#Oh my fucking god. Especially because I was looking at the shell thing like ''oh yeah that sounds exactly like how the

[abyssalpriest]

This gets into shit I can't talk about but it fascinates me seeing the leap from grace and gentleness when humans start talking about Lev's rulership and specific like.............. Ugh god how to word that. A specific time and place when he was involved in the ruling of a certain group of spirits humans are connected to like. Talking about Ahi, who is a more permanent split-off of Lev's energy (like how I said Lev takes multiple bodies I guess) as Vritra where humans are like fucking terrified of him... Hearing about Triton I'm like no yeah actually this DOES sound like you, it sounds like when humans connect to you ruling your plane and doing your off plane stuff instead of you interacting with humans as Father Of Humanity

........... Actually lmfao. I've just metaphorically drawn some random lines on a chalkboard as I spoke and I stand back and look and it's a symbol I recognise very well.

[madamechrissy]

Preview of Keep This Low Key Ch 2

Choso x F Reader- explicit - FWB

It's here! - Chapter 2

You wake up the next morning in a strong pair of arms, with a thigh pressed up between your thighs, you flush when you realize where you were, in your best friend’s arms. Arms the squeeze you just a little tighter, his breath hot on your neck, tickling you and making you tremble, then he shifts his thigh, and fuck it’s pressed even more, and you’re arching up for it without thinking.

He moans softly, you feel his long dark lashes fluttering against your cheek, you are tense against him. “Mmm, g’morning.” He mumbles, burying his head back in the crook of your neck.

“G’morning, Cho.” You say softly, he pulls you even closer now, pecking little kisses down your neck, it feels way too good, too natural.

Not once had you felt like this.

Was it because you’ve known him like the back of your hand forever? Possibly, not having to worry if you look good, if you’re done up enough, to just be a little bit of a mess next to him was so comfortable. But also, it didn’t feel odd in his arms, you’d knocked right out, and now you feel that same thrill you did last night, remembering the pleasure he gave you.

You’re blushing now, cheeks hot, vivid images of his dark hair between your thighs, those violet eyes as his tongue ring had done wicked things. You’re getting wet just thinking of it, and he tenses himself behind you, arm tightening, his breath catching in his throat. You’re sure he can tell, making you embarrassed.

“You’re so hot there.” He whispers, and you cry out just a bit when he presses up once more, your hand clutches the pillow under it tightly.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m…”

“Sorry, for what? Being sexy.” Fuck you adore your best friend, his kisses against your neck turning hotter, his mouth opening, tongue lapping at you, making you shiver with desire, coursing down your body. You shift, and he moans again. “Fuck.”

“Sorry!” You cover your face, and he gently pulls your hand down, turning your face to look at him.

“Stop apologizing. Do you want me to get her off again?”

“Fuck, yes. But I wanna do things to you.”

“You can get me later.” He says, pressing up once more, and now you’re shamelessly rubbing on his thigh. “Oh my god, fuck.”

“Choso…” You whisper, eyes dropping to his lips, glossy as he licks them slowly, a big hand pressing against your tummy.

“Let me get you off, angel.” You shake your head, making him smile a bit, running his fingers down your tummy, rolling against your clit now, pressing his thigh up further, you’re bare aside from his big shirt, dripping down his sweats. “Oh my god, you feel so good, you’re this wet for me?”

“Shush, supposed to be… friends…”

“Friends who fuck, hmm?” You nod weakly, eyes fluttering shut at his gentle circles, as you keep grinding on his thigh helplessly. “So then I can talk to you like that, if you want.”

“I want.” Is all you manage, getting wetter and wetter as your hips move, his fingers hitting the perfect rhythm, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Then let me tell you how good you feel against me.” He pulls his thigh back then, you whine out at the loss. “Aw, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” He murmurs, so fucking sexy, your silly Cho Bear, it wrecks your mind.

Now he is pressing his cock against your back, you feel how hard and thick he is, when he grabs a thigh and brings it high over his leg, and plunges two fingers in your pussy now. You’re pouring more all over his fingers, weakly crying out at how good it feels, reaching a hand back to grip his hair, pulling his lips to yours as you turn your head back to him.

He moans, still fingering you so good you can’t stand it, you want so much more, especially that thick cock against you, fuck it felt so big, you ache to see it, to feel it. Choso’s tongue ring hits your own tongue, clicking gently against your teeth, as you suck on it playfully, earning more of his moans, more of his fingers.

“Close, Cho… m’close.” You whisper, and he looks at you with those dilated eyes, fingerfucking you faster, scissoring his fingers in and out, you’re so close you shatter at it, and he’s watching as your eyes roll back, as your mouth is open, you think you must look so dumb-

“Oh, you’re so pretty.” He says instead, and you begin to climax, it washes all over your body, you’re pulsing around his long fingers now, and he eases, slipping them out to toy with your clit, making you jerk.

“Sensitive.” Your voice is faint, you’re reaching behind you to find him, earning his own moan, his eyes fluttering shut, he keeps torturing your clit, until you’re close again, this time overstimulated. “Do you um, wanna fuck? Or want me to suck you?”

“Both, and add wanna eat you again.” You giggle breathlessly.

“You’re a freak, Cho Bear.”

“You really haven’t seen much freak yet, angel. But you’re so cute and nervous, I love you like this.” He brings his fingers to your lips, and you are sucking yourself off of him, stroking him over his sweats as he bucks into your palm.

Coming soon! <3

[crguang]

HI HELLO SHALOM INTERRO ??? THOUGHTS ??? HOW DO WE FEEL ABOUT CHIEF BEING THE PERSON TO BREAK THE PARADEISOS LOBOTOMY

ABSOLUTELY FUCKING INSANEEEEEEEEEEE. UNBELIEVABLE. WHAT????????! they are intrinsically linked together. at once by the shackles, paradeisos, loss of self, mutual liberation and their inevitable end perceived by others. they’re literally the same. shalom pre-lobotomy is chief pre-awakening; refusing to be controlled, full of vitality, hatred and defiance (as defined by having freedom). i have so many thoughts in my head and it’s hard to concretize them all but the language shalom used to talk about how chief opened the door for doubt in her mind stroke me, it’s so violent. “rift” “corrupting” “shattering” “beast/monster” “tore me apart”… it really conveyed how shocking of a transition it must have been for her to suddenly feel those “unnecessary emotions” that had been taken from her for 8 years. even more, it must be so surreal to understand that you’ve been dissected in two, dehumanized and objectified while simultaneously being able to gaze upon that part of yourself that cries in indignation. if she was truly emotionless it wouldn’t mean a thing, but she’s not… she’s so incredibly self-aware. i think this is what makes it so sad for me, knowing you have an expiration date based on your usefulness because you were “made” for one purpose while being able to feel pleasure and have desires, etc— to understand the weight of what has been snatched from you by people who think themselves righteous when they’re really just a bunch of fear-stricken cowards would have anybody go crazy. seeing what paradeisos did to her made me so sick. the apathy with which they treat every threat to themselves is shocking but straight up mocking her will to live for herself by calling the monster they’ve made using (a part of) her Rebel made my stomach churn like that is so disgusting… shalom is aware of the severity of what paradeisos did to her and it’s sick that she has to risk everything just for less than a 1% chance of success that doesn’t even include her survival mind you. im just SICKK

to think she was so full of life and fighting spirit and is now reduced to “resigned” looks and smiles, compared to an instrument and a doll— oh my god sev it made me so uncomfortable. i know that during the loyalty test in the consciousness observatory or whatever, she was essentially embodying paradeisos but reading her being described as “doll-like” “void” and such was so tough… for chief to get that impression of her being an empty shell, expression that shalom uses again in the end to describe herself, then for shalom wonder if she’s even human afterwards made me so sadddd 😭 i do like these two excerpts though because i feel like it describes the duality of her character well, the surface level at least. the fact that she is capable of being genuine and has mastered the art of “embodying paradeisos” so that they wouldn’t notice that flaw makes her impossible to figure her out without diving into her psyche. even chief couldn’t understand her fully, she wont be able to now that she’s forgotten her. she’s so wonderfully complex and her interrogation portrayed that concept super well.

ive talked about shalom and her smiles before but another thing that’s always struck me as odd was that she kinda laughed too much for an unfeeling robot. im not talking about her cute little chuckles either, yeah sometimes it’s only to add to her manipulation but at the end of flora unfurl, when all of her plans were coming to fruition and in the face of coquelic’s rage, she was laughing then still. her laughs and smiles are sometimes so inappropriate but her laughter especially stood out to me and i didnt really know why until this one scene… it takes more effort to fake a laugh than to fake a smile like she does all the time; from what i remember she wasn’t mocking coquelic or being unnecessarily cruel, but when she burst out laughing i was so confused exactly because it felt unnecessary and out of place, like what happened in that scene. laughter is often accompanied by emotion and during a time where rationality couldn’t explain the motive behind her action, schorl immediately scanned her for defects like that’s insane. the level of scrutiny she’s constantly under is impossibly oppressive— “try to rectify such purposeless physicalities”?! cant even laugh anymore because of woke. can’t voice her thoughts, can’t be fully genuine with the person who freed her from rationality, she literally cannot do shit omg. all of herself has to be available to paradeisos’ sterile gaze every second of every day… she’s used to that scrutiny but ughhh it’s not fair and it’s not how human beings are treated. shalom i will save you from this prison if it’s the last thing i do

despite it all, she has her small pleasures and it makes me want to scream and die. the way she “plays” with schorl by having it scan her meaninglessly, how she enjoys catching people off guard and observing their reactions, the way she’s always making fucking jokes?! so important to me. shes so unserious. shalom making jokes that fall flat because they’re in the middle of a heavy topic or issue is so important to me. “haha your garden’s better off with me than dead right? kidding, heh” and “why should i give a fuck about humanity?… just kidding! love these people” is so 😭😭😭 i genuinely find her hilarious because she doesn’t relieve any tension at all, she is NOT meant to be comedic relief 😭

back to her and chief tho…… is it not absolutely crazy how she was acting like they were once married with three kids before chief got amnesia. mind you they met ONCE before, officially. ONE TIME. and she was like “you made a lasting impression on me” “we’re friends” “i wanted to see you/my own subtle yearning to see you again” “we held hands like this once before… i still remember the touch” “being apart from you, i cant help but worry” SLOW DOWWWWWWN. MY GOODNESS. i know chief changed her life but shalom was so intense from the get go like she wants that cookie so effing bad. they used the words “tender” “intimate” and “gently” too often for me to believe they dont want each other like. and why was the hand holding written like a fanfiction— matter of fact, this whole thing was written like a fanfiction because why am i reading about the exposed skin of shalom’s collarbone, her pushing chief onto her bed then essentially climbing into it as well to whisper in her ear WHILE encouraging her to choke her?!?!?!?! what was even happening. lesbians make me sick. what a freak. i actually dont know how many times ive called shalom a freak while playing the first 2 interro phases

wish i could add all the screenshots from the choking scene but tumblr’s a BITCH. but this whole thing was insane. LIKE INSANE. this is gayer than 000 kissing chief. this is gayer than being a housewife for the assassin that kidnapped you. reconnecting with an old “friend” you cant remember yet feel an undeniable familiarity and connection towards and allowing yourself to be vulnerable and exposed in front of her regardless of ulterior motives… soulmates across space and time and circumstance idkkk, at the end of the day the one who can understand shalom the best if given a real chance is chief idc they’re mirror images of each other. shalom was so genuine in the interrogation room despite chief being suspicious of her like im sure of it now. the fact that they freed each other is forever ingrained in my heart, that is the most precious gift they could’ve given to each other even if it was done unconsciously from chief’s part. ALSO the fact that the one moment we hear the most emotion from shalom is when she’s at chief’s bedside telling her to come back? yeah. exactly.

let me stop yapping but there are many things that are escaping me that made me go “holy fuck”, i have a hundred screenshots and recordings just from her interro like it really blew my mind. shalom’s character is a bit clearer to me now and it really does put everything into perspective aaaaaa im aching to write for her properly this time

[poppy-metal]

no thoughts just day dreaming about college! infidelity! love triangle! artashrick ( i can't remember the ship name for all 3 idc idc ) listening slumber party by ashnikko. oh to go to some dive bar, do a shit ton of tequila shots ( as encouraged by patrick and tashi whilst they're dating ), smoking a joint patrick also pushed onto you in the alley behind said bar and choosing that song for your karaoke song after being peer pressured by patrick and tashi. ( the timelines of the song release and challengers do not match up i don't care ) everything seems wayyy too real when you accidentally glance at patrick whilst doing drunken karaoke a few too many times when the song talks about eating tashi on the mf couch and how her spit tastes like juicy fruit ( real lyrics for those not familiar with the song ) and all of a sudden art and patrick realize that despite how femme you are, you fucking LOVE pussy, especially tashi's

need her to to come up behind me and grind me against her like she's fucking me on the dance floor - patrick and art fucking vibrating in their seats - patrick is torn between joining and watching - he joins eventually when tashi throws him a look, and then you're between them - tashi at your back, patrick at your front.

giving poor art a show - three of the hottest people he knows, grinding like if there wasn't clothes between you, you'd all be inside eachother. he has to shift around and adjust his hard cock in his jeans.

thing is, it's not really cheating if patrick was aware the whole time - "you've been eating my girls pussy?" and there's not an ounce of anger in his voice, just heat. tashi is behind you anyway, and she's sliding her hands around your waist.

"someone has to." you tell him and his lips quirk.

"she eating yours?"

not yet, though she's expressed desire too. you focus on her in bed - because you fear how vulnerable you become when you're submissive. you don't want to grow attached to either of these people, not really. they're dangerous.

"she runs away whenever I try." tashi hooks her chin on your shoulder - her hands slide up your dress. "you should let me," she tells you, and patrick presses closer and you're trapped between them. patricks hard - you can feel him against your hip - and your lashes flutter. you tip your head back against tashis shoulder. "tonight." she adds.

"what about your boyfriend." you ask, breathless. you're forgetting why it's a bad idea to slip under their seductive pull.

said boyfriend noses along your throat - he's so tall, he has to bend down over you to do it. you feel warm all the way down to your toes when he does it. skimming along your skin.

"what about him?" tashi giggles. her lips nip your ear, she pulls the lobe between her teeth, tugs on it. her tongue is hot as it licks the outer shell. you shiver against her, your back arches right into patricks hard chest. "he's been wanting to watch."

"mm" he hums his assent. "you'd be hot as fuck together."

you think about it. you want too say yes. you feel the pull with them - you know it would be hot. you know you'd cum - and it would probably be transcendent. but you don't think you could remain in control. you barely have the upper hand when it's just you and tashi - and it's only because you put so much enthusiasm into making her cum on your tongue that she's too limp afterwards to try too hard to recuperate. it's that way on purpose. if it's patrick and tashi together though, two vs. one - so hot and intense and dominant.

"it'll be fun." tashi coos. "he could hold you open for me - you could finally let me at that little pussy you've been meaning to give me." god, her voice is so hot when it gets low like that. all feminine and soft - "I want to get my tongue on you."

you gasp - and you break free. hot and dizzy in the head. they let you go, part and then come back together easily. you don't have to glance back to know they're already skin to skin with eachother - kissing. and you think that's part of it. nothing is serious with them. it means nothing.

you rejoin art at the booth. he shifts nervously and you blink in suprise at the martini in front of you. you look at the boy across from you and he ducks his head. "you mentioned liking it, so i..."

"you ordered for me?" you ask, smiling.

he shrugs, glancing away. his face is flushed pink. you lean forward to sip at your drink, hiding your grin. he's looking out at the dance floor, probably out at patrick and tashi.

"they're all over eachother, huh." you stir your straw.

arts eyes float back to you. he flushes even more, if that's possible. it gets up to the tips of his ears. "you seemed to like it."

you shrug - "it was just dancing." you leave out their proposition to take you back to their place. you lean forward, enough that your tits nearly spill out of your dress and art eyes dart down, just like you wanted them too. he swallows. "do you want to dance with me, art?"

he does, you can tell. but he's a modest boy. patrick had warned you about his friend on your way to pick him up - 'he's a good boy.' he'd said. and tashi had grinned, twisting to look back at you. 'he wears a cross necklace. it's fucking adorable.'

he fumbles - "um." he tugs on his ear, awkward with it. eyes flitting between you and the dance floor. "im - I'm not very good at it."

you sit back. "that's okay." you tell him. you've decided you want something else, anyway. "you want to get a cab back?" you tilt your head. "they'll probably be out there for awhile."

art looks almost relieved. you have to bite back a giggle, considering your plans. "yeah," he says, and start to slide out of the booth. you think you really like his hair - you want to touch it. imagine gripping it later, seeing the blonde tuffs between your fingers. he pulls his wallet from his pocket and drops a few bills on the table. "do you think they'll mind....?"

"I doubt they'll notice."

you let art lead you out of the bar - you think being between patrick and tashi made you feel all out of sorts, out of control, out of your depth. art donaldson - he's cute - he's kind and sweet. corruptable, still. you'd have the control in your hands, definitely. you'd rock his world tonight - and put the other couple out of your mind.

it would work. totally.

[bl00dlight]

A Song of Shadow & Flame

CANON Dark! Aemond Targaryen x OC niece Targaryen. | SERIES

Warnings - Mentions of SA, child on child violence, graphic description, fatherlessness, Aemond gets fucked up, morally grey slay, questionable fathering, where are their parents?

Author's note ● Well, this is it. This is the last 124 AC chapter before we pick up six years later. Thank god, lets get to the SMASHING already!!! I just want to also state, that yes Visenya has raging father issues and yes that absolutely is going to evolve into something more disturbing, this may turn into a dead dove fic, purely because of the psychological fuckery I am about to pull. But hey, that's canon for ya. My girl has major problems. She IS going to make Aemond worse. Oh and this isn't edited, sorry for typos. I'll get to it later.

Word Count ~ 3.5k+

Index

i ● ii ● iii ● iv ● v ● vi ● vii ● viii ●ix ● x ● xi ● xii ● xiii ● xiv ● xv

vi ~ 'An Eye'

123 AC

They charged through the rock pools, making their way to the alcove which contained the lower passage into High Tide. Visenya had let go of his hand by now, she hadn’t muttered a word, too fuelled by adrenaline and disgust, but mainly shame. Shame for what Aegon did to her, shame she was too fearful to stop him.

As they came to the darkened impasse, Aemond’s hand reached to grasp her wrist, and Visenya’s eyes widened as she felt the warmth of his hand coil gently, a poor attempt at affection. She looked to him, her gaze one of shock… her heart swelled at the action, a glimmer of vulnerability in her eyes, though his beamed with uncertainty.

Aemond's gazed sternly at the Princess, her silver hair glimmering under the torch light. No one had ever retaliated against Aegon, especially not for him...no one had ever bothered – not even his father. Aemond’s gaze softened as he glared at her, he felt shame rear its biting head in him as he recalled how little he had done to do the same for her. His grip upon her wrist slid down slightly, until his hand met the palm of hers, enclosing like a shell, as if done in thanks. Though Aemond did not know how to say such things, how to express it. Even this felt terribly odd, his brow furrowed.

Stillness settled, and the two young Targaryen’s stood face to face, their hands intertwined. The princess was in shock, her eyes gleamed with a slight affection for a moment – something warm tugging at her chest before she met the hard and dour gaze of his. She felt herself grow disturbed by the action, suddenly snapping out of the moment and ripping her hand away.

“What do you think you are doing?” She whispered intensely, her expression darkening before she could gauge why. Visenya wasn’t even sure why she pulled away.

Aemond looked down at his empty hand and then, met her gaze, “You defended me.” His voice plain, clinical.

“No one will believe you.” She gritted her teeth, her eyes beaming with tears as she went to turn. Fear and guilt overcame her, she couldn’t let him see how such affection warmed her heart for she could barely admit it herself.

The young prince scoffed, “I did not intend to speak of it.”

Suddenly Visenya whipped around fiercely, her gaze mad, as though his actions upon her were cruel. Aemond grew confused as she stepped towards him once more.

“Do not do that again!” Her voice a harsh whisper.

“What?” The boy shook his head, watching as she narrowed her eyes.

“Did you think we were friends? I took pity upon you! Pity, because you are but a dragonless bellyacher who was made to fuck an old whore.”  The words fell from her mouth before she could stop herself. She was livid and terrified of herself, she felt like a dragon gnawing at old bones. Visenya turned again as silence dropped quickly between the two.

As the princess turned, Aemond felt his heart shatter. He wasn’t sure what he felt for Visenya, what spurred him on to hold her hand, but her words confirmed everything he had already thought. Vain, spoiled, evil little… “Bastard.” He spat.

Visenya took a breath as the word rang, her heart felt like it had been ripped from her chest, as she turned her head to gaze upon his stiff and arrogant expression, “What did you say?”

“You are a bastard-“ Aemond’s brow flickered, tilting his head in a smug, flat gaze.

Visenya felt her rage pierce through her, her hands suddenly meeting his chest as she shoved him straight to the floor. Her gaze unrelenting, brutal as he looked up to her with a wrath so apparent his very face heated. Aemond rose to his feet, fists clenched as he grasped her arm with all his might, The Princess winced, his grip tight and unyielding.

Aemond felt something beyond his understanding burn through him, his gaze no longer cold, but heated by years of pent up fury, his words like knives as he twisted her wrist, “You and your pitiful brothers may shove or taunt me all you like. It changes nothing, Visenya! You are bastards born of your mother’s whoring.”

Visenya winced again, finding the strength in her to rip herself away as angry tears fell. She clutched the tender flesh of her wrist before her words came out with a desperate intent to hurt him, “And you are a dragonless, second son, who despite being a boy grown likely still wishes he could suck at his mother’s tit!”

“I care not for what the likes of a spineless slut calls me.” His voice cold as his demeanour was composed rapidly.

“Slut? You… did you just?” The princess coughed out, stuttering in disbelief as she clambered back.

“Indeed. Your behaviour is far suited to Flea Bottom than the Red Keep. You did not protest my brother’s leering upon you until he acted upon it. You weeped out of fear, once his attentions transcended your liking. However, any honourable woman would have refuted his comments in the beginning. Not you though, for you are vain and indulgent, so it is no wonder Aegon took a liking to you, he only pursues those who he knows shan’t say no.”  Aemond’s voice matter-of-factly.

She nearly jumped upon him again, though his words made her ache beyond what she had ever felt. Shame beckoning through her like dragonfire, “You blame me?”

“Yes.” The prince nodded.

Visenya roared, lunched forward as she raised her voice, though Aemond did not flinch, “Your brother is a rotten degenerate, would you say the same if it were to happen to Helaena?”

The prince gave her a judgement look before speaking with arrogant clarity again, “It would not. My sister would not engage with such attention.  Perhaps you should take after her beh- “

“Your sister is a witless doll!” She raged forward, tears streaming as she clenched her fist.

Aemond’s expression flickered with anger once again at her cruel words of his sister, his tone warning, “Do not speak against her.” 

The young princess scoffed and laughed harshly, her tone outraged and contrasting his cool composure, “You have spoken far worse about my brothers and my mother! In fact, there are many things I might say, Uncle. Your brother is a lecherous craven, your grandfather a scheming traitor and your mother is a treacherous…. viperous cunt!”

Aemond felt his cheeks burn brighter, he wished to strike her… no to grab her by her hair and smash her pretty face against the rocks, watch it splatter upon the rocks. She was nothing, a bastard. A cruel girl with a wicked tongue; a whorish mother and a lech for a father. Before he knew what had happened he felt the harsh sting of his hand after it made contact with her damp cheek.

Visenya’s face turned, her hand clutching her cheek as tears fell. The Princess winced, his hand had whipped across her face so swiftly, leaving her no time to react. Slowly, her eyes met his and a long, bitter silence was exchanged before a familiar dark voice rang.

“Visenya?” Prince Daemon stood, cooly observing the two young Targaryen’s, his eyes glazing with a slight rage as it was clear he had seen the tail end of the events unfold. In fact, he had heard the bitter words of his daughter and nephew echoing throughout the impasse. His face stern as he looked upon his Visenya, then flickering to Aemond with a cold, warning glare. The young Prince took a step back, his eyes coming to the ground as he felt his uncle’s glare bore into him. Not him. Aemond thought.

Her eyes widened upon seeing Prince Daemon, his demeanour calm, unaffected as he extended a hand. “Come. Your mother sends for you, Princess.” Daemon’s voice carried softly throughout the cove, and Visenya said not another word before walking to him, gripping his hand as he led her away.

He brought her through the door leading into High Tide, she looked up, terrified. His gaze seemed familiarly dark as he dragged her along. Visenya whimpered, begging for him to look down upon her, to soothe her as tears fell, her heart filled with dread before she pleaded, “Please, do not tell mother… I.”

With a sudden grunt Daemon turned and forced them both into a shadowy nook within the hall, his hands forcing her shoulders into the wall as he looked down, he muttered lowly, “I care not for your murmuring Visenya. Not today. You swore you would cease this endless trouble making, and now I come to witness the Hightower boy provoked to the point of putting his hand upon you!”

Visenya shook her head, disarmed by him once again, “He-“

Daemon grabbed her chin, shaking his head as his words grew firmer, “Enough! Do you understand the difficulty that comes with me refraining from intervening? Nyke care daor qilōni fucking rhēdan ziry, nyke care bona ziry keliton lēda zȳhon ondos striking ñuha tala's laehurlion!” I care not who fucking started, I care that it ended with his hand striking my daughter’s face!

As he looked upon her frightened gaze, how the tears fell down his daughter’s sweet face, the grip upon her chin loosened as it came to cupping her cheek gently. Visenya continued to look up at him with simpering eyes, she understood her father’s wrath. This was his wife’s funeral after all, and here she was again causing more trouble than need be. Making matters worse within their House.

Daemon’s tone softened further, he sighed and regained a sense of authority, “So yes, I shall tell your mother, and yes you shall deal with the consequences, as shall the Hightower boy. I want justice and if I cannot seek it, Rhaneyra shall.”

The princess merely nodded at her father’s words, she watched his expression unfolded before her, feeling the warmth of his hands wipe her tears from her cheek. Daemon gripped her chin again, forcing her head to side so the light would catch upon her face, revealing what that little Hightower swine had done. He stroked the tender flesh as whispered cooingly, noticing reddening bloom upon her pale skin.

“Issi ao ōdrikagon?” Are you hurt?  He crooned gently, still examining her face before pulling it to centre.

Visenya shook her head, her gaze and tone fierce, “Daor” No.

A wry smile came to the Rouge Prince’s face before he chuckled lowly, amused by his daughter’s stern front, “Nēdenka zaldrītsos.” Brave little dragon.

His gaze lowered again as he spoke more sternly, rage coiling within him as he thought to what his nephew had done to her, Daemon’s eyes met hers, “Se hembar jēda ziry raises iā ondos naejot ao, kessa sagon se mōrī ēza ondos.” The next time he raises a hand to you, shall be the last he has hands.

Visenya shook her head, a need to admit the truth of it; that it was she who incited the fight once again, “Nyke inditan zirȳla, kepa.” I pushed him, Father.

Daemon’s brow flickered in surprise, not of his daughter initiating the trouble – but for the odd look of shame within her eyes about it. He grunted lowly and scoffed before speaking, “I’d imagine he deserved it, dōna riña” Sweet girl.

Her gaze weakened, she knew the truth of it, and this time; no, Aemond didn’t deserve it. She was the one who was cruel to him. He had tried to reach out, tried to find some sense to her actions, letting himself display the faintest hint of vulnerability and she punished him for it. If Daemon knew… knew that she had let Aemond’s hand linger upon hers, felt such warmth in her chest, such overwhelming affection– he would surely look at her with disgrace.

Visenya leaned in as her father’s hand brushed against her face softly, before pulling her in to a swift embrace. The small affection he could only give to her when none other might be watching. She let him believe her to be innocent, to have been justified in her actions against Aemond. Just for the simple fact, it would keep this brief moment of shared love going. Just so she would not have to watch as his doting eyes hardened. Yet, there was a dull ache that settled in her chest, a pulling familiar to her. Guilt.

How could she admit that her own pride, was wounded so easily that she was able to use her tongue as though it were a blade. That she was able to shove him without remorse. Visenya locked away those threads of thought, locked them away so she did not have to face the truth. It was her who ached, not him. Not Aemond. No, she only meant to inflict her own pain back upon him, and did so, so that she might close her eyes at night peacefully.

●

Upon that very night, in the early hours of the mourn, Visenya laid in her chamber, sleeping soundly. She felt soft hands gripping her arm shaking her to wake. The muffled whispers, like gossamer in the air as the Princess groaned softly. Her eyes opening dazedly, seeing a glimpse of moonlight locks atop a small frame. Baela.

“Sister… sister wake up…” Her light voice fluttered as she shook Visenya further.

The elder princess stirred properly, slowly sitting up, “Baela…?” She yawned lazily and leaned back, noticing her youngest sister, Rhaena standing aside – the young girls expression frazzled.

Visenya felt herself shift upwards at her sister’s worried look, concern coiled as she whispered, “Sisters, has something happened?”

Baela nodded, “You must come… somebody stole Vhagar!” She exclaimed softly.

Before Visenya knew what had happened, she had haphazardly thrown on her night robe as her siblings dragged her out from her chamber. Her eyes widened further as the sight of her two brothers, stood in the hall.

“Jace? Luke? What are you-“The princess furrowed her brows, panic ensuing within her as her eyes flickered between the dark haired boys. The halls of High Tide were deathly quiet, with only the sound of the low rumbling tide to cover their whispers.

“Come sister, we must go! Somebody has- “Jace whispered softly in the darkened hall, before he could continue, Visenya stepped forward and shook her head.

“Yes I know, somebody stole Vhagar. I suggest we all go inform the Sea Snake.” Her voice firm as she looked upon her array of siblings. Their faces coiling in protest.

Jace gritted his teeth, challenging her, “No! We shall go ourselves.”

The princess swiftly leaned forward, gripping her young brother’s arm, she felt frustration burn through her, “I am in enough trouble as is, if something happens it shall be who is blamed for not putting a stop to this!”

Jace, with all his strength pushed at Visenya’s chest, forcing her away from him. The two exchanged a startled look before he cleared his throat and spoke again, “We are going sister. Come or don’t.”

Visenya simply stood in the hall as she watched her siblings disappear into the night, her gaze wide, shocked by Jace’s actions against her. Fine, if he were to treat her in such a way, let them go get themselves harmed! She thought, though as more time passed she could not help but feel that familiar pull of regret stirring. No, she couldn’t let them go by their lonesome.

Without another thought, she ran after them, looking around to see where they may had gone too. The Princess crept around the main halls of High Tide, peering to try and find her siblings. Logically, they likely went the route of the alcove leading out to the shore, she crept down the passages, hearing familiar voices echo.

“It’s him.” Rhaena proclaimed.

“It’s me.” A deeper one responded; the haughty spite rife on their tongue.

“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon!” She retorted back.

Her heart thundered as saw the warm glow of the opened door to the alcove, she knew it was her siblings in there, and the other voice, well, how could she not recognise his… Aemond.

“Your mother’s dead, and Vhagar has a new rider now…” Aemond beckoned.

Rhaena’s tone fierce, “She was mine to claim.”

As Visenya approached the door, her wide eyes were met with the scene. Her four siblings all opposed a smug Aemond, she peered through, wanting desperately to join in the confrontation, though she knew she couldn’t. Not with what had already happened today, not with her mother’s reputation already waning.

The silver haired prince raised his brow smugly, and sneered as he stepped forward, “Then you should’ve claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.”

Just as the words left his lips, Visenya’s eyes met his and for a brief moment she saw the anger increase tenfold as he noticed her gaze, so much so in the split second he had been distracted, Rhaena charged, growling at Aemond, instantly being thrown to the floor by him. Baela charged, punching him squarely across his pale face and he fell to the sand a low grunt leaving him.

Just as he had fallen he rose, with swiftly precision striking Baela, knocking her to the ground leaving her wincing. Aemond snarled, leaning over the young girl as she clutched her cheek, shuffling away from his hammering voice, “Come at me again and I’ll feed you to my dragon!”

In response, Jace charged but Aemond evaded his throws before the silver haired boy threw Jace to the ground – a sudden cry of Luke rang in Visenya’s ears as she watched with horror as her small brother lunged upon Aemond and his fist ram straight into Luke’s small face, forcing him too, to the ground.  Luke’s cry filled the alcove before Aemond looked up again, scoffing as he saw Visenya peering once more. Suddenly, Jace lunched once more, pushing Aemond to the floor and one by one her siblings descended upon him.

She didn’t know what to do, nor why she couldn’t move or speak. It was like one of those horrid nightmares where she found herself unable to scream or unable to run – just awaiting doom to befall her. Her eyes locked on the sight, her four siblings kicked and punching at Aemond as he writhed upon the ground whining. Baela’s fist repeatedly struck him in the chest over and over again until Aemond managed to shove Jacaerys to the floor, then Baela.

As Luke raised his fist in anger, Visenya all but gasped as Aemond gripped her younger brother’s small neck she nearly stumbled down as she saw Aemond’s blooded face sneer.

His hand rising up with a large rock gripped, ready to strike Lucerys head. “You will die screaming in flames just as your father did!” Aemond proclaimed, his voice gritted and wrathful before he looked up once more, the word practically spat from his mouth, “Bastards.”

Lucerys weeped, struggling against his much older Uncle as he choked for the slightest full breath, his voice simpering “My father’s still alive.”

Just like that, a wry haughty expression came upon Aemond’s face, as he looked to Jace letting his hand fall to his side, “He doesn’t know, does he, Lord Strong?” The silver haired boy flashed a satisfied scoff before the sharp sound of an unsheathed dagger rang.

Visenya’s heart nearly dropped as she found herself finally able to move, her feet forcing her down the few steps as she looked upon the sight of her brother pointing a dagger to Aemond, she cried, “Jace!” Her feet soon reached the sand as she stopped herself, Baela and Rhaena looking over their shoulder in fear, cowering backwards as Visenya reached for them, swiftly forcing them away. The boys began fighting once more and Jace was back upon the sand whimpering when she turned her head.

As she did so, the princess stepped in front of her half-sisters and slowly moved towards Jace as he clambered on the floor. Aemond stumbled back for a moment, regaining his footing before raising the rock up over Jace, Visenya’s eyes widened in fear as she froze, unsure of what to do.

Her gaze came to Aemond’s pleading for him to stop and as he looked at her, her chest nearly caved in upon itself as nothing, but a breathy snicker left his mouth. He was taunting her, enjoying the look of fear and helplessness upon her face as he dangled the rock over Jacaerys’ head.

Neither he nor Visenya noticed as Luke picked up Jace’s dagger and suddenly a throw of sand made its way into Aemond’s eyes causing him to break the contact with Visenya and wince in pain. As he looked back, there Luke was her small, harmless little brother clutching the blade, standing before Aemond and with a fierce pained cry, Luke slashed the blade across Aemond’s face.

It happened in seconds, before she could even register the violence before her, she only saw how Aemond had toppled to the ground, the blood splattering upon Luke’s face. Their Uncle’s unfamiliar cries of pain filling the space as he clutched his face. She hadn’t seen what was truly done, but she did see the blood pool from beneath him, tainting the white sand below.

As the Ser Harold came thundering in, she felt the small body of Luke lunge into hers, his arms wrapped around her tightly, the stench of Aemond’s blood now staining her nightrobe. She slowly embraced her little brother, pulling him tightly against her, tucking him away as she watched the writhing Aemond.

For a brief moment the silver haired boy’s wide eye met hers and princess turned away from him, shielding Lucerys from the mess he had made.

○vii○

[azrielslostshadow]

Lemon Mousse

Word Count: 2264

Author’s Note: sorry for the wait lovelies. you know how it goes with finals and work and everything else that life throws at you. should i continue this series? lmk what you think. 

pt.1, pt.2

“Huh, I figured you might not be back for a while.” 

azriel’s head shot up at the sound of your voice. you were beauty and grace and light and love and oh gods you were looking right up at him. “w-what?” did he seriously just stutter? he’s the shadowsinger! he shouldn’t stutter or panic. especially not in front of a faerie who probably couldn’t even care less about him and what he does outside of buying lemon-flavored pastries that he doesn’t actually eat. 

“well, I just assumed that you wouldn’t be coming in since the High Lord announced his trip to the Summer Court?”

of course! for the last few months, whenever azriel’s come in he’s ordered extra pastries just to talk to you longer, and when you asked what they were for he had said something about sharing them with feyre and rhys. 

“oh- well yes of course, but they aren’t set to leave until tomorrow so i thought i’d stop by.”

he watched as you tilted your head, brows furrowed and a pretty pout on your lips, “i must be mistaken then. i thought feyre said they were meant to leave today?”

“change of plans. something about a meeting rhysand had forgot.” azriel was a terrible fae. lying to a beautiful shop owner all because he was to afraid to ask her to dinner. he figured he should muster up the courage soon before she found out that he actually hated lemons and sweets. 

“well, besides the lemon tarts- is there anything else i could get you?” azriel had never seen you look so dim. 

“anything new for me to try?” azriel wasn’t even going to eat it, but he wanted to make you feel better. you always lit up when you talked about your treats. 

“just the mousse.”

azriel was shocked. you normally made it a point to be kind, oftentimes going out of your way to get him out of his own shell. “i like mousse.”

he was hoping you might engage in the lighthearted, flirty banter that you usually did, but was disappointed when you only let out a small huff of acknowledgment and moved to grab the dessert. you gave him his total, a tense smile, and sent him on his way. 

he felt like his heart had been squeezed out of his chest- like he had done something wrong. especially when you didn’t even try to stop him from tipping. 

------------

“now i’m no genius-”

“coulda told you that myself, cass.”

“but i think she knows about your little crush.”

once azriel returned to the house of wind, he immediately told cassian and nesta what happened. he thought they might be able to help, but clearly he was wrong.

“first of all.” he began, “there’s no way she knows about my crush. i happen to be the fucking shadowsinger thank you very much.”

his brother chuckled, “so you admit that you have a crush?”

“i admit that you’re a pain in the ass.”

“oh gods.” nesta was losing patience with the spymaster, “this is seriously starting to get so pathetic, azriel.”

“i don’t know what i did! or if i even did anything? we barely know each other, she- she could be upset about anything!”

“except you know her well enough to know something is bothering her?”

“anybody with eyes could see that she wasn’t okay! it wasn’t something special.”

“you should go check on her.”

azriel looked at nesta like she’d grown a second head, “what?”

“go right before she closes.”

“nesta, i already went once today! if i go again she’ll think something’s up.”

“oh what? like that’s a bad thing?”

“yes!”

“wait,” cassian’s face scrunched up, “i thought you liked her?”

“he does.”

“so what’s the problem?”

“he’s scared she’ll like him back.”

azriel sulked into the couch cushions, “i’m right here.”

“we’re well aware.”

------

regardless of how annoying the couple was, azriel still found himself outside the brightly colored shop five minutes left before closing. choosing to ignore his nerves, he pushed past the doors and into the bakery. 

“i’ll be right out!” you called from somewhere in the back. 

azriel figured this conversion would go one of two ways: 

      a. you’d kick him out for bothering you about something personal or

      b. you’d actually want to tell him what was bothering you.

either way he supposed it was best if he just swapped the sign to closed and locked the doors, then he made his way past the counter and into the kitchens. 

it was exactly how he had envisioned it to be. warm and inviting albeit a little chaotic. Flour covered the countertops, a couple of dishes were in the sink, and the floors needed to be swept, but it was entirely you. 

“oh-?”

azriel turned and you might as well have ripped his heart out of his chest, “love?”

your eyes were red and your mascara had smudged beneath your lashes. it was clear you’d been crying and he’d give anything to make sure you were never burdened with tears ever again. 

“sorry, az. i’m actually just about to close so if you don’t mind-”

“what’s happened?”

“i’m sorry?”`

“are you okay?” he meant to ask the question kindly, but it seemed to him that he’d failed when you immediately began to sob, “gods, i- i am so sorry! i didn’t mean to upset you!” carefully, he moved closer to you, hands spread out like you were a wild animal he didn’t want to spook.  

“no- you didn’t i-i just,” you took a deep breath again and before he could ask another ridiculous question, you were crying again. 

“oh, love.” he moved closer before he immediately stepped back again. he didn’t want to frighten you or make you any more uncomfortable than he already did. 

but then you began to cry harder. 

he was unsure of what to do. stepping away made you cry harder, which is what he figured should have happened if he moved closer. you were shaking, trying to hold yourself together and all he wanted was to just hold you. so he gathered up all of his courage and prepared himself in case you pushed him away, and moved to wrap his arms around you.

he half expected you to scramble away from him. azriel knew he was a rather intimidating faerie, he was taller than most, his wings were wide, his hands were terribly scarred, and his whole demeanor normally screamed run away now if you want to live. he assumed if he was lucky you would freeze, but still let him hold you. 

instead, the second he touched you, you wrapped your arm around his middle, burying your head into his chest, and gripped his shoulders like you were afraid someone might tear the two of you apart. 

for a moment azriel didn’t move, shocked that you actually wanted him. 

once he recovered, however, he placed his arm around you, one hand on your hip and the other on the top of your head, bringing you closer to him. 

the two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, holding each other tightly in the lemon-filled kitchen, until you lifted your head from his chest, tears dripping down the sides of your cheeks and an, “i’m sorry.” leaving your lips in a defeated whisper. 

“don’t be.” he moved to wipe away your tears, cradling your face in his large hands, pride surging trough his veins when you leaned into his palms. “if you’d like, we could talk about it?”

you began to pull away, “it’s dumb. nothing really.”

azriel was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them. he had been trained to see through a lie, and you were clearly inexperienced in the art of deception. he pulled you closer before you could hide away from him again, “no, it’s not.”

you took a moment to gather yourself, wringing your hands, eyes bouncing around the room at anything that wasn’t the illyrian warrior before you, “does feyre hate me?”

“what?” this was the last thing azriel thought would have upset you. feyre absolutely adored you! she spoke of you often to the inner circle. 

“i just- i just want to know if i’ve done something to upset her. she was the first friend i made in velaris and now she never comes in anymore!”

azriel wasn’t sure what to do. he’d taken feyre’s place as your regular so that he could talk to you, but he never thought it would hurt your feelings. “she doesn’t hate you.”

“well, clara from the night shift has been telling everyone she does. that she got tired of my lemons and only sends you in out of pity!”

“the night shift? the bakery down the block?”

“yeah- with that horrible gray brick!” you grumbled, “her whole building looks like a fucking cinderblock with no personality whatsoever.”

he couldn’t help but lt out an amused snort- he’d never seen you angry before. he thought you looked quite like a mouse, “it is rather ugly isn’t it?”

“with horrible pastries too! i’ve never had such a bland, powdery scone in my life! i’m not sure why our high lady would ever prefer that to mine.”

“she doesn’t.”

“azriel. she hasn’t been here for months. most of my customers came in because they thought she loved my desserts. now business is slow, except for when you come in and your fangirls follow-”

“fangirls?”

“they always come in after and ask what you’ve ordered and get the exact same thing! i’ve had to start lying to them- you know i can only make so much of every treat!”

“love-”

“look if feyre really prefers clara’s treats, she really doesn’t need to send you in to make me feel better okay?”

“she’s never sent me in here.” 

you froze at his words, “what?”

“well, except for the first time.” azriel wasn’t about to ruin your friendship with feyre or your business just because he was afraid to admit his crush. 

“what the hell are you talking about? you get a lemon tart almost everyday!”

“i wanted to see you.”

“azriel-”

“i hate lemons.” azriel let out a breath at his admission. when your brows furrowed and you could only blink at him he began again, “and sweets. but i wanted to see you again, so i convinced feyre to let me come in for her.”

“i don’t-”

“i was too nervous to ask you out to dinner and i didn’t want to ruin my chances of getting to see you again so i kept it to myself. i’m sorry i made you feel like you lost your friend. i’ll tell feyre that she can come in again and I won’t bother you anymore.” azriel turned to walk away from you and out of the bakery when you grabbed his wrist, preventing him from leaving in embarrassment. 

“you hate lemons?”

“i ugh- yes.” he looked to the ground like a child being reprimanded by their mother. He couldn’t focus not with you touching him. and especially not when you moved your fingers from his wrist to grip his hand in both of yours, bringing it to your chest, and pulling him closer to you. 

“you came in every day to buy lemon-flavored pastries when you hate sweets and lemons?”

“yes.”

“and then you basically paid me double every single time?”

“yes.”

“because you were afraid i might say no to dinner?”

“well when you put it that way-”

before he could defend himself, words tumbled out of your mouth in a rush, “i was thinking about adding on to my menu.”

“what does that have to do with-”

“a new drink menu.”

“i’m not following.”

you smiled up at him, “bitter coffees, protein shakes, limeades, maybe something themed around the inner circle?”

“love-”

“maybe infused milks too? for nyx of course.”

“i really don’t-”

“you’d have to come in, you know- to try them?”

azriel realized that you were giving him an opening. you wanted him to keep coming in, you wanted to see him again. but you weren’t pushing him away or forcing him to ask you out if he wasn’t ready. 

“yeah. i would, wouldn’t i?”

he watched as you let out a soft sigh of contentment, “walk me home?”

he couldn’t think of something he would enjoy more than walking you home, “of course.”

he watched as you finished closing up shop, leaving the dishes for one of your employees in the morning. then as the two of you began walking away from the yellow bakery, you looped your arm through his and smiled before leaning in to whisper something in his ear, “you could’ve asked me out the first time you came in, I would’ve said yes- still would.”

“yeah?”

“mhm.”

after that the two of you walked in silence for a while- comfortable, not forced. 

eventually you stopped in front of an old building that azriel thought fit you perfectly, “yours?”

“yeah. thanks for walking me home, azriel.”

he scratched the back of his neck, “anytime.”

you squeezed his hand before walking up the steps and unlocking the door then you paused, “azriel?”

“yes?”

“my door’s always open.” you turned to him one last time, “dinner’s usually around eight, and i’ve got this nasty habit of making too much food for one person ya know?”

he smiled brighter than normal, grateful that you were the one to make the first move, “well, we wouldn’t want all that food to go to waste now would we?”

fin

Taglist:  @andrewgarfield2022 , @azzydaddy, @off-beam, @elsie-bells, @goldentournesol, @bsenpai-blog, @leeknows-wife, @weirdo-fun, @graciereads, @thecraziestcrayon, @marigold-morelli, @hollyismentallyillhelp, @gamarancianne, @philosopherstoned, @maraudersrry, @acourtofmarvels, @fall-myriad, @ruler-of-hades, @bangtanbecks, @lahoete, @brekkershadowsinger, @lotusnegra, @dream-alittlebiggerdarling, @topaz125, @athena-roy, @tcris2020, @annaeli211-blog, @cullenswife, @fanworrior , @abewitchingwillow , @ksuumin , @naturakaashi , @marina468 , @theravenphoenix26 , @forsiriussake , @mich0731 , @elizarikaallen, @and-i-swear-we-are-infinte, @laylrin

[hannahssimblr]

The crying is relentless. All morning and well into the afternoon. It's not constant, but it is consistent, a cycle of heavy, self pitying sobs followed by these silences where I imagine she forgets what she's so sad about, or curses Evan out instead, which, if it were me, is what I would be doing. I can't understand why any person is really worth this much anguish, especially ones that don't wash their hair.

“Ah, Shell,” Jen mutters under her breath, “he’s just a stupid fucking boy, enough already.” 

The brilliant sunlight of early May streaks through the windows and over the pages of our textbooks and notebooks strewn all over the carpet. With the summer exams approaching I have accepted that it’s going to be like this all month, study, revising, shovelling snacks into our mouths and then studying some more until our eyes feel like shrivelled little raisins in their sockets. But I have nowhere else to be these days, so I am happy to spend them on my stomach in the sun with Jen, writing flashcards and highlighting entire pages about chemical erosion and igneous rock.

“Did you see him at school this week?” I ask around the pen jammed between my teeth. 

“Who? Evan?”

“Yep.”

“Unfortunately. With Carlie.”

“Oh, crazy. He moved on quickly.”

She tuts and shakes her head in disgust, “He’s horrible. He has no shame, full on knowing that Michelle can see him shoving his foul slug tongue into Carlie’s mouth, in broad daylight.”

“Mm, nothing good ever happens in broad daylight, does it?”

 There is a bang, crash and wallop as Michelle comes down the stairs and straight into the room. I steel myself defensively, waiting for, I don't know what, maybe for her to start giving out to me or screaming that I need to get the hell out, not that she’s done that yet, but there’s always a chance. I bet she would if she was feeling crazy enough.

But maybe we've caught her at a good time, because instead she looks startled to see me, while also appearing different, more vulnerable than I'm used to seeing her now that the makeup she usually rings her eyes with is absent for the first time since she was about fourteen. It feels risky to look directly in her eyes, but I can't really help myself. It's like some layer has been peeled away, and she's the girl who used to be my friend.

“Um,” she utters, voice cracked and hoarse from crying, and drags the heel of her hand beneath her still dripping nose, “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I can go.”

She hesitates. 

“Let him stay,” Jen grumbles, “He’s just studying, he’s not going to bite you, is he?” 

“Okay,” Michelle says in a voice just above a whisper, and hovers there for another few moments as Jen goes back to flipping through her geography book, no doubt taking nothing in.

“Did you need something?”

“Not really.”

“Alright.”

Flip.

Flip.

Michelle gently clears her throat, “Is it… is it for the summer exams? All the study, like.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll probably fail mine,” a feeble laugh, “and dad will be thrilled with me.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand, given the circumstances.”

“I don’t think so,” she comes a bit closer, her stockinged feet padding over the carpet, and I don’t move a muscle as she approaches us, afraid to make a nuisance of myself. She perches on the edge of the sofa and folds her hands in her lap. “I think I should probably study,” she comments absently.

“If you want to,” Jen says. 

“I have so much work to catch up on…”

“Well,” Jen spreads out her fingers and gestures to the mess of paper and books on the floor like she’s presenting a gourmet meal, “you’re welcome to join us any time, babe.”

I sense Michelle’s eyes on me but I deliberately keep mine fixed on my book. The last thing I want to do is put her off the idea and then, God knows, get blamed for any and all fail grades she ends up getting.

“Hm, maybe,” she says, and leans to pluck at the corner of one of the English book covers, “I honestly know nothing, I can’t remember any of King Lear, never mind the poetry…”

“All that Shakespeare stuff is Jude’s domain, actually all of it is his, I'm clearly the idiot in the room…”

I pipe up sheepishly, “If you need help going through stuff, you know, I can, but if not it’s obviously fine too.”

“Hm,” she says, and slides to the floor with us, “Maybe. I’ll see.”

Jen gives me a secret smirk. “She'll see,” she mouths, and just like the sneaky wink she follows it with, I have absolutely no idea what she means.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Admire: Part 2

A follow-up to Admire that takes place the following morning. NSFW.

Amelie Wildheart woke with a start.

I’m not at the Elfsong Tavern.

I’m not at home.

I’m not at Wildheart Manor.

I’m not in a tent.

OH.

She remembered the previous night---she and Rolan confessing their feelings, touching, cuddling, and then falling asleep I guess? Smiling, she stifled a giggle when she felt Rolan squeezing one of her breasts and grinding against her generous backside. His tail was wrapped around a plush thigh. Awww he’s still purring. That’s so cute. “Rolan?” She whispered. “Love?”

“Do I truly wake holding the woman of my dreams?” He murmured, the hand on her breast slipping lower to cup her soft lower belly. “Is she here, or am I dreaming of her again?”

Godsdamnit, why does he make me blush? “She’s here.” Amelie closed her eyes as her mouth quirked into a smile. “Though she’s frankly amazed that she slept like this.”

“Hmph. You’ll hear no complaints from me, my dear. Why, what do you normally sleep in?”

“Shirt and shorts. Nice and comfy.” That reminds me…I should grab a few more pairs of shorts from home. She rolled over to face him, and he pressed a slow, lazy kiss to her lips. “And you, Master of Ramazith’s Tower?” She teased, running a hand over the ridges on his bicep.

“Nothing if I can help it.” Rolan snarked as he brushed some of her dark ginger hair behind a pointed ear. His eyes left hers and instead focused on her ear. “M-may I?” Upon seeing her nod, his clawed fingers traced the shell of an ear. “So delicate and pretty---just like the rest of you, my love.”

Amelie let out a snort. “There is nothing about me that is delicate. Are you aware that one of Portyrs said I’m built like a brick outhouse?” Drunken twat yelled it in front of everyone at Mum’s nameday ball a few years ago. I ended up running up to my suite and crying for the rest of the night while Mum threatened every Portyr in attendance.

Not surprisingly to me at least, he rolled his eyes and kissed her briefly, the hand on her ear traveling down to her upper arm. “Tasteless swine.” He caressed her, humming thoughtfully. “No one should ever say that to a lady but especially not to you. You are…” The glint in his yellow eyes turned mischievous. “I could show you how lovely you are, darling, if you—”

Be bold and brave, Mia. She kissed him hard and tangled her fingers in his hair. Breathless when she broke the kiss, she nuzzled his nose. “I want you to show me everything. All of you.”

He laughed.

What is so funny?

“Greedy little thing.” He chuckled as he gently nudged her to lay flat on her back and slipped off her smalls. “You want everything?”

She nodded; golden eyes wide. Just. Fuck. Me. Already. Rolan. My. Love.

With a snap of his fingers, his own smalls were discarded. As he straddled her, his hands ran up and down her belly and sides, the look in eyes quickly filling with lust. “I will give you everything, sweetheart.”

A gasp escaped her as she felt the tip of his tail behind him tease her clit. “Oh gods…yes…please…more…”

“And you beg so prettily too! How wonderful.” He cupped one of her plush breasts and squeezed gently. “How many more sounds will I get out of you, hmm? Each one more delightful than the last.” Rolan leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Are you alright? Is it too much?”

Oh. My. Gods. Amelie chuckled a little as her long arms went around his neck and shoulders. “I’m fine, love.” Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it. “I just…I’m a bit nervous. Never done this before.” WHY DID YOU SAY IT?!?!?

“Fear not, my dear, because I’ve done considerable research on this very subject.”

Don’t giggle. Don’t giggle. She barely held in a giggle as she pulled him closer. “What on earth does that mean?”

“It means that I’ve read extensively—”

Her golden eyes were full of mirth. “Lots of smut then?”

He growled playfully and nipped an earlobe. “Hush you! It means your dashing gentleman should know how to please you.” Kissing his way down her body, he felt like he was in heaven. “How I have wanted this…yearned for it…to be able to worship and adore you…” He’s touching me like he can’t get enough. Like he really does want this. Wants me. Sensing her tensing up, he stopped and glanced at her. “What’s wrong? Is it too much? We can slow down, darling—”

Amelie placed a finger to his lips. “Stop. It’s not too much. It’s just…you really want me? I know I’m not—”

“You’re the one I love---of course I want you! How could you think otherwise?!” He snapped. He then closed his eyes and shook his head. “Forgive me, the thought of you thinking you are not the loveliest person to ever exist is incredibly frustrating.” With a smirk, he sat on his haunches, a hand massaging a one of her plush thighs while his other hand stroked his oh goodness me are those ridges throbbing cock. “Do you not see what you do to me? One look from you sets me aflame.”

She placed one of her fair, freckled hands on his that rested on her thigh. “And one touch from me?”

“A balm to cool and comfort me…to let me know you’re still here. Now I do believe,” He gave her thigh a squeeze. “I promised to please you. Relax, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.” Before she knew it, he dove to the ginger curls at the apex of her thighs. He lapped at her, kissing and touching all of her within reach. “You are divine…perfect in every way…” He moaned. “What I dreamed of is nothing compared to the real you…”

“You dreamed about me?” Does he mean what I think he means? If he does, then that’s incredibly hot.

Nuzzling a thigh, he grinned. “Oh yes, sweetling. So many glorious fantasies…ones I hope we can share.” He turned to kiss one thigh and then the other. Oh gods there’s his tongue right on my—FUCKING HELLS!

“Rolan, gods please…” Without thinking, she reached for his horns and tugged slightly before letting go. “Oh my gods, I’m so sorry, love!”

“Damnit, woman---pull as much as you like. My hair as well. Whatever you need. After all, as your suitor and lover, I’m to see to all your wants and needs.” He smirked and then focused his attention back to her cunt.

Amelie attempted to roll her hips, but he stopped her.

“No, no…let me have my fun…” He muttered, his yellow eyes staring at hers with more than a little mischief in them. “Greedy little thing…”

She whined, her hands tugging on his hair. “Love…ah, don’t stop…”

He let out an annoyed huff and continued to feast on her, his clawed fingers gently caressing and squeezing her soft thighs.

Closing her eyes, Amelie felt her pleasure twist inside her, threatening to snap at any moment.

The next moment, in fact.

Rolan lapped at her release. “That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it. Such a good girl. So good for me.” He then moved over her and guided the head of his oh fuck me those are ridges cock towards her entrance. “You’re going to take me so well. My perfect, darling lady…”

Fucking hells. I’m done for.

She let out a frankly pathetic whine and yanked his face towards her, her lips colliding against his. “Rolan,” she breathed. “Please.”

“Please what, sweetling?” He demurred.

“Get inside me, for fu—AH!” Amelie realized quickly that his very very much ridged member was sliding into her, inch by torturous inch.

His head dropped to her shoulder. “You are so…fucking wet…better than anything I could’ve dreamt…better than any fantasy…” Rolan panted and then soon after bottomed out with a loud groan. “Perfect…simply perfect…” Pressing kisses to her shoulder and neck, he whispered, “Tell me when to move, my love…”

“You can move…gods, you’re big, love…” she breathlessly giggled, wrapping her long legs around his narrow waist. “And um, if you want to…come inside…you can…got a tea…from Halsin…” Now fucking rut into me faster, Rolan!!!

He barked a laugh. “Greedy little thing! Already knew you had my heart, did you? That I’d want you so soon? Greedy…greedy…” His thrusts grew faster by the second, and his tail wrapped around an ankle. “My greedy little Mia…”

Amelie squeezed her inner walls, causing him to moan wantonly. “I like being prepared…just in case…things went well…” Her hands roamed over his back. So many ridges. So sexy. He feels incredible. Never expected a wizard to be so strong, but I found one!

On one practically hard thrust, he moaned, “I do so love a woman who’s prepared. Good girl.” He could feel her climax quickly approaching as she gasped softly, whispering, “Come for me, dearest…come for me…” Unlike her first orgasm where it came slowly in waves, this one felt like something inside her snapped. As she panted, he pressed kisses along her jaw. “Good. So good. You feel magnificent, darling…”

All she managed to get out was a breathless, “R-Rolan,” before his narrow hips stuttered then stilled with a loud groan. As he spilled inside her, his body relaxed into hers. Her hands gently caressed his back, murmuring sweet nothings. He began to shift to roll off, but she shook her head. “Just a minute, love. Please.”

“As you wish,” he sighed, more than happy to rest on her. And he can’t keep a hand off my boob. He really likes those. Rolan then chuckled. “Gods, to think I still have to work today after doing this.”

She traced one of his ears and grinned. “You don’t necessarily have to work…”

He rolled his eyes. “Temptress. No, I must work. There’s so much to catalogue, experiments to conduct, studying the artillery…the shop! The bloody shop too!”

Okay, maybe less distractions and more offering assistance. Whether he’ll accept is another story. Before she could stop herself, she began to ramble. “I could stay and help if you want. I’m not sure what exactly all that entails, especially experiments, but I’d like to think I’m a fast learner—"

He silenced her with a quick kiss, then muttered a spell to clean them both, and stood. “Don’t you have a city to save, darling?” He teased but Amelie noticed something more---a look of fondness in his yellow eyes that made her feel unspeakably happy.

“I think I can spare a day to help you and have someone else take my place in the party.” But gods, the teasing from Astarion, Shadowheart, and Jaheira is going to be terrible. She rolled on her side to face him, covering herself with a blanket. “It’s not all saving the world, you know.”

Rolan barked a laugh. “Oh right yes, your ladyship! You must save all the puppies, orphans, and refugees as well!” He pulled on his smalls and trousers as she watched. How is he so good looking? How? “In all seriousness, while I could use your help, my love, please give me time to sort through things." Returning to bed, he sat and ran a hand through her hair. “That way, I can give you tasks I believe are suited to you. It must make sense…must be logical.”

“So not me trying to run alchemical experiments and possibly exploding?” She laughed softly. Yeah, that is a terrible idea.

He bent to kiss her head. “No. Gods, no. Despite that, you should…can you…stay today? You need your rest.” You can say that again. “Please?” He looks so cute and awkward and blushing. “I-I would appreciate the company.”

Amelie nodded and tipped her head to capture his lips in a slow kiss. No. Not now. Later, yes! She very reluctantly pulled away and smiled. “Of course, love.”

“Good, good.” He so awkwardly but CUTE pat her head before giving her one last kiss as he stood. “I bet you don’t even take time for yourself, darling.”

“I try to rotate everyone in and out of the party, so no one feels left out, but…” I’m always there. I’m always the lead. I’m always the one who makes all the decisions. “Not me, no.” Everyone relies on me. I can’t let them down. I can’t let Mum down. I can’t let Rolan down. If I do, then we become mind flayers, and the Absolute takes over the Sword Coast. I can’t…I must…

She had not realized her eyes had closed as her thoughts raced nor did she notice that Rolan, now dressed in his robes, was sitting next to her again and holding her hand. “Which is why you’re staying here. No companions to bother you.” He thought for a moment then grinned. “How about this, sweetling? I’ll make us some breakfast and then study the artillery in bed with you.”

“Lovely, but what am I to do?” she chuckled.

He kissed her knuckles then stood and headed towards the door. “Why, rest naked in my bed, of course!”

As if that’s the most obvious thing in the world. Sure is, love.

And yet, that is exactly how the day was spent.

Not that either of us minded.

[shawnflowers]

shawn michaels headcannons <3

gonna get my writing game up 😤 so this is how you and shawn meet (this was an idea i had for a long one shot but i turned it into this instead (if you want a full story i always can do that hehe))

: ̗̀➛ warnings: fluff! hint of smut!

*ahem* so, i’d say this starts with you being a new photographer for the wwf

yknow you’re around the ring, capturing all of the exciting shots but you also dabble in backstage activities and snapping candids of the wrestlers

welllllll shawn spots you in your second week there. you’re walking around backstage with your camera, readjusting the shutter speed and the exposure levels you would need once you head out to the ring. you hardly notice anyone blatantly staring at you as you’re stuck in your own little world.

he’s perhaps a little starstruck

he wonders why he hasn’t seen you around before. because fuck fuck fuck that body of yours is absurd (and you’re also gorgeous)

he happens to spot you with hunter right next to him so he asks him, “who’s she?”

hunter turns to see who he’s talking about, spotting you in the distance as you’re making your way to gorilla. “oh that’s y/n i believe, she’s new. a photographer.”

and that’s all it took before he went sailing over to you, one thing set on his mind. i gotta make her mine

the rest was history as they say

you were completely smitten by him

you saw through his heartbreaker persona almost immediately, instead falling for the man that would hug you from behind and place his chin on top of your head

shawn most certainly would open every door for you, and makes sure to open your car door every time as well

you were really timid when you first started working there — feeling completely out of place with all of these incredible athletes that were also incredibly intimidating. but he was your gateway into a great experience at the company.

once he took you under his wing and introduced you to the rest of his little goon squad, everyone wanted to get to know you better and wanted you to get great pictures of them.

but of course shawn wanted you to get the best photos of him while he was wrestling which wasn’t hard to do because he’s incredibly photogenic

“when I jump off the top rope, can you make sure you’re on my right? I think that’s my good side.”

“every side is your good side, shawn.”

“even my backside?” *smirk*

“especially.”

and i mean, do we even have to talk about the sex? yes

he loves loves loves when you praise him. “no one touches me like you, baby.” “god, shawn, you’re stretching me so good.” “you looked so hot tonight. it took everything in me not to jump you in the ring.”

and in turn, you love love love a little degradation. “you’re my slutty baby girl. isn’t that right?” “look at you, crying those pathetic little tears. i know you can take more.” “does my baby want her release? gonna have to try a little harder than that.”

also. yeah. the camera is definitely involved. sometimes you get pictures of him, but shawn is adamant on taking your photo too. both in cute ways and in incredibly intimate ways. there was almost a mixup of those photos and work photos once

and so on and so forth 😮‍💨

but love is in the air nonetheless. you’re the best thing to happen to each other.

that kinda scared shawn at first ngl. he wanted to make you his yet he wasn’t exactly ready for full commitment. but once he got to know you he realized he never wanted to separate from you again. he couldn’t possibly think of you spending time with another man without getting all sorts of jealous. so, he decided he was yours as much as you were his and that was the best decision he ever made

he broke you out of your shell while you managed to keep him under control. it was the perfect balance

: ̗̀➛ nose boops to you

[starheirxero]

OH GOD, EVERYTHING IS HAPPENING, EVERYTHING'S GOING ON-

I AM SCREAMING, KICKING, CRYING, RUNNING UP MY WALLS, DRAMATICALLY THROWING MYSELF ON THE GROUND AND WAILING-

FIRST SAMS FUCKING PUNCHES AND KNOCKS ME TO THE GROUND, AND THEN MGAFS GIVES ME THE FINISHING BLOW- FUCK EVERYTHING-

OH GOD, WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN-

First of all, we finally reunited with old Moon…BY GOD, DID I MISS THIS SNARKY BASTARD- I am so happy, to see him again!!! He's so nonchalant and blunt, especially towards people outside of his family- It makes me so nostalgic!! His similarlities to Eclipse are clearer than ever, honestly!

Everything about it just makes me so emotional, I can't even begin to describe it-

He's on that same old beach where he gave up his life, the same old beach where he showed empathy and compassion more than ever before, the same damn old beach where he was the more selfless than he'd ever been- It is making me sick to my stomach/pos

He still loathes himself so much, still looks down on himself and his mistakes. He has never been able to let go of it, he'll always hold on to the mistakes he made. One of these mistakes is leaving a part of his code behind, which in turn created Eclipse. His hatred for him comes from the hatred of himself, because Eclipse is the embodiment of everything he hated in himself.

But even though he hates himself, even though he buried himself underneath a mountain of mistakes, he will never regret protecting his family. He has always been a big brother, always been a protector, no matter what! Even after everything, they are the only thing on his mind. I'm going to fucking cry, man-

God, he adores them so much! Everytime he talked about them, I teared up!

He adores and treasures Sun with all of his heart, and only wishes for him to be safe and sound and happy! He knows his brother, knows he's blaming himself, and wants so badly to put a stop to it! But he can't, because that would involve a conversation, and he cannot bare to hurt him more than he already has.

He wants to thank Monty, who has been his emotional support, his best friend. Old Moon is anti-social, apathetic towards anyone outside of his family, even another version of himself, yet Monty got through to him, time and time again. Monty, in their own right, was family too! The two of them always got each other out of the gutter.

God, when he talked about Lunar and Earth, I legit started to cry a little-

He always wanted a sister. He always wanted a little brother. He wished he could've met them, wished he could've gotten to know them, wished to have loved them as much as he loved Sun!

He did know Lunar, but he never had the chance to truly get to know them. Everything he said about them is honestly just so sweet, and shows old Moon beyond his shell.

They were just a kid in a shitty situation, made with a purpose they never wanted.

Old Moon has a hard time caring for others, yet he looked at this child, who needed help and guidance, and took them underneath his wing without hesitation. Tragically, though, he always kept his distance. I don't think, he quite saw, how much they looked up to him. He always kept them at arms length, because he had hurt one brother, and was afraid to hurt another, afraid to open his heart. Yet, despite this distance, he would've ripped Eclipse apart for what he did, without mercy.

God, I can only imagine what his dynamic with everyone would've been like, especially with Earth, who is so incredibly different from him!

Old Moon is such an intriguing character to look at! Especially with how obviously different he is from New Moon!

I want to analyze him so bad, but my brain just won't cooperate👀

I'm really glad, New Moon got his reassurance though, and even learned from Old Moon, it seems!

Now, as for MGAFS….NO, GOD NO, PLEASE EVERYTHING BUT THIS-

THEY WEREN'T JUST SEPARATED- THEY WERE PERMANENTLY TORN APART, NEVER TO REUNITE AGAIN- THEY CAN'T DO THIS, I CAN'T HANDLE THIS-

BLOODMOON'S REACTION TO HIS BROTHER'S DEATH- HE TRIED SO HARD TO KEEP A STRAIGHT FACE, BUT THE MOMENT THEY TRIED TO LEAVE, HE STARTED YELLING- HE HAS NEVER BEEN ALONE, ALWAYS ONE HALF OF A WHOLE. NOW HIS OTHER HALF IS GONE, AND HE IS ALONE, AND HE WILL NEVER BE WHOLE AGAIN-

I ALSO READ YOUR INTERPRETATION OF BLOODMOON'S LAST LINE, AND IT HAS BROKEN ME- THEY COULD'VE BEEN GOOD. THEY COULD'VE BEEN FRIENDS. THEY JUST DIDN'T WANT TO BE CHANGED, DIDN'T WANT TO BE LIKED AS SOMEONE THEY'RE NOT. THEY JUST WANTED TO BE THEMSELF, YET THEY NEVER WOULD'VE BEEN ACCEPTED THAT WAY-

XERO, WHY MUST YOU DO THIS TO ME-

-Stardust

YESSSSSYESYEYSES I DIDN'T TALK MUCH ABT THE TSAMS EP BC I GOT SO DISTRACTED BY MGAFS BUT EVERYTHING U SAID FOR REAL !!!!!! THE BEACH AND THE CONVO THEY HAD AND AAUAGGGHH

I was honestly so worried that there was going to be a sudden change in how Old Moon acted but seeing him just still wholeheartedly be him made me experience sooo many emotions. Like u said, the similarities between him and Eclipse are just wholly on display and it's like,, oh yea! you are who he stems from!

AND YEAH ALL HIS SENTIMENTS ABT MONTY + SUN + THE BROTHER N SISTER HE NEVER GOT TO KNOW. BURSTS INTO TEARS!!!!! For how little people he cared about, he made up for in caring about that small handful of people with his whole entire soul, even if that care could be convoluted and confusing and ultimately hurtful, he never wanted it to be like that. He just wanted the best :(

AND THEN THE LAST MESSAGE FOR NEW MOON AUGHHH I CAN'T EVEN. DIES EVERYWHEREEEE

AND THEN MGAFS. FUCK. I KNOWWWW I KNOW I KNOW IT FUCKED ME UP SO BADDD. THE FINAL BLOODMOON'S DESPERATE YELLING AT THE END FUCKED ME UP EVEN WORSE TO TOP IT ALL OFF I CAN'T EVENNNN.

AND SHAKES YOU SHAKES YOU THEY COULD HAVE BEEN SO EASY TO ACCOMMODATE FOR IT DRIVES ME INSANE!!! THEY WANTED CONTROL OVER THE ONE THING THAT IMPACTS THEM THE MOST, OF COURSE THEY WOULD HAVE DENIED ANYTHING ELSE!!!! THEY COULD HAVE HAD IT ALLLLL AAAAOAUHGHHHH

[nukenai]

So I love chatting with vendors at cons, especially TFCon. They're always Cool Dudes in their 40s/50s who have been collecting Transformers since the dawn of time and they like meeting fellow weirdos, especially younger people. Especially absolute freaks like me who run up dressed like Rodimus while wearing booty shorts.

I was at this one booth and I was looking for a specific figure so I asked if he thought he had it - he said maybe, so I started to look. I shuffled through my purse and vaguely held up my Drift figure, and said "it's for him", like haha joke. (Looking for Jetstorm)

He instantly made a confused face and said, "I don't recognize that Drift". And I said oh, he's the regular American deluxe release, I just repainted him. He asked very politely if he could see him. GOD HERE WE GO

I've had lots of people go "Wow that's really cool! Great job!" about my repaints and custom stuff and I appreciate the comments so much. I don't have much confidence in anything I do, but I am very passionate about when I do custom stuff to toys or Gunpla.

THIS MAN. He was legitimately stunned. He told me my Drift repaint was amazing, and the detail work was incredible. I very shyly thanked him and said I customized my little Fixit, too, and he went NUTS WHEN HE HELD HIM. Then he literally CALLED HIS FRIEND OVER and said "Hey man, come here! You have to see this Fixit she painted!"

The three dudes at the table were legitimately gawking at my, I thought "pretty good, but took a lot of time because I'm obsessed so there's A Lot" repaints. Fixit in particular he was VERY impressed by, because I had filled in the indent in his chest. To be fair that was a nightmare but like omg? And he REALLY loved that I added the blue details to the wheels, and was impressed by my straight lines. I mentioned I totally disassembled Drift, painted the pieces individually, and put him back together, and the guy looked like I'd just shot him LMFAO. HE'S A VERY SIMPLE FIGURE IT'S NOT SUPER DIFFICULT...

So then he asked me the most insane question I've ever been asked in my life:

"Do you have a business card? Do you do this professionally, like as a paid job?"

UHHHHH EXCUSE ME SIR I JUST ADDED DETAILS TO MY ORANGE HUSBANDS AND MADE ONE OF THEM THE CORRECT(TM) ORANGE... HELLO...??????????

So I told him no. He asked if I had a website where I posted them, or social media. I mentioned how I started using my Instagram for that stuff but got lazy and forgot and I just share reels all day. The guy insisted I take HIS business card, in case I was ever looking for parts, or things to customize... He really wanted a place to go see more of my work, and I was very sorry to tell him that I am not actually someone who really knows what I'm doing... but I didn't totally deflect the compliments. I was so unbelievably thankful and told him that no one had EVER reacted this way to my work before. (even saying "my work" is bizarre like it's just a thing I do... it's not My Thing...)

He joked about wanting me to paint some of his minis, LOL, and I said a lot of my friends do that but that's kinda beyond my scope. I started when I was disappointed with a lack of details in some of my figures, like my TMNT 2012 Metalhead, but then I was like. I can add some black on his shell. I can fix him up... and it kinda spiraled. My second significant custom was turning my Stegosaurus Chase figure show-accurate. You can tell it's an early one bc it's ROUGH and I almost wanna get another one to redo and compare...

Buuuut anyways. He was legitimately having customers look at my stuff and one guy wanted to show his wife. I was deeply confused but extremely flattered.

Then a 20 year old kid I had talked to about RiD earlier found a Drift I didn't have (the one that fucking launches his children across the room), and I laughed and said I'd take it. Table guy said "For you it's half price, 5 bucks!"

Then he gave me a Rodimus Robot Heroes for free. And one of those old blind bag figures of Drift for a dollar.

This was one of like 20 amazing interactions I had just in the dealer room. I wound up buying THREE NEW DRIFT FIGURES because I am EXTREMELY NORMAL AND COOL ABOUT HIM

I mentioned this in an earlier post but it got to the point where I rounded a corner and a random fucking guy ran over to me, brandishing a Drift figure, and called out "ARE YOU THE PERSON LOOKING FOR RID DRIFT?" and I was like OH MY GOD?? I HAVE THAT ONE BUT THANK YOU??? WHAT??? and he was like OKAY I HAD TO MAKE SURE! and ran away and I never saw him again. I have no idea who that guy was. He was not working a table he was shopping.

But I am The Rodimus Woman Looking For RiD Drift, For Some Reason now, I guess.

What a fucking con

it's 2am goodnight

[vaguely-concerned]

so sad that we didn't get a follow up game for andromeda if for no other reason then because I never got to play out the full arc of my ryder looking hauntedly at himself in the mirror realizing he very much is his father's son in more ways than he's strictly comfortable with

(by default sara always seems to me to be the twin who's the most obviously like alec -- with small variances based on how you play her if she's the PC twin, she's always presented as more driven, competetive and academically minded than scott, who's framed in the family dynamic more as the underachiever/slacker fuckup twin. as an example, see: the conversation you have with alec about the sibling who's in coma at the beginning of the game. when you're scott they bond over joking that sara would be so pissed to be out of commission because she's been planning to be the first to scale every mountain, and when you're sara it's that scott never liked to get up in the morning anyway, how typical of him. (even in jest I feel like this indicates a slightly unpleasant dynamic where one of the few reliable tactics that work for sara to get connection with her dad is for both of them to turn on scott to mock him. which like. very real type of interpersonal dynamic that exists, and one of the character aspects I like the most in andromeda for all that it's uncomfortable, it feels quite subtle and well observed.) you can make sara a bit more neurotic/nervous and awkward and/or charmingly dorky when playing as her and you can make scott a bit more serious, but these aspects of the characters hold true no matter what. which for the record I absolutely love! it's the thing the hawke family also provides in da2, being able to see the dynamics that lead to your character being the way they are alllll the way back and building on it.

hOWEVER with my scott. this apparent disconnect between himself and his dad in terms of character traits (and the lack of communication in that relationship that stood in the way of letting him see that his father was a lot of other things behind the fragile hard outer shell of him than he wanted to show) means that as time goes on scott is fucking blindsided by all the common traits that start popping up under pressure. which you can actually start to introduce in the game itself, too -- if you choose mostly the logical and casual options, it's almost freaky how much ryder starts to sound like a younger and more irreverent version of their dad. (the most interesting version of liam's loyalty quest for me is actually the one where you go full professional and chew him out afterwards, and as liam storms off you can practically SEE ryder arrive at the thought 'oh my god I have become my father' in real time fhdsakj. in general some of the most interesting moments in me:a to me happen when you manage to break away from video game people pleaser mode.)

especially the things alec was willing to do to not lose his wife, to not be alone, he'd rather she be alive and pissed with him than gone forever because that's how desperately he needed her to exist... I think one day scott will look up and go '...oh fuck' at realizing the lengths he would go for someone he loves, and that he has the means to do it too and would make his father's (very bad to be clear) choice all over again if push came to shove. keeping horrible secrets is just the family tradition what does it matter if the weight of them grows heavier and heavier to bear over the years these are family heirlooms you know. I mean, my guy romanced reyes, so you already know he's got something deeply deeply wrong with him lol but this horrors of love side of him only adds to it. scott ryder got his fundamental lack of inner peace from his father and his social skills and abysmal taste in men from his mother

[rillils]

so um, so maybe i'm addicted to prompt generators. that might be a thing. hm. *screeches into the void*

rating: T wordcount: 1378 tags: fluff, crack, established relationship, bearded Steve because i've got a soft spot for him, general silliness, dorks in love, domestic bliss, aaand that's it i think

If life was fair, and not plotting to give Bucky an inappropriate boner in the middle of a crowded beach, then for once Steve might deign to look like any average guy enjoying a hot summer day with his man; rather than, you know, put to shame the rest of humankind with his luxuriant, marble-carved, sexy lumberjack league, mouth-watering presence.

But nope.

He walks out of the ocean with seafoam lapping longingly at his ankles, looking for all the world like Aphrodite and Magic Mike had hot writhing sex right there on the shore, without ever getting a single grain of sand in any uncomfortable places, and nine months later he happened, with his thick thighs and his tapered waist, and droplets of saltwater gliding down the slick planes of his torso like liquid diamonds. (Which Bucky will stoically abstain from licking off Steve’s skin. Not because he’s feeling especially strong today, no – just so they don’t end up charged with public indecency. Again.)

Steve’s face, though, as he splashes eagerly towards him, is the face of a kid who just spent the better part of an hour frolicking about in the water, flushed and animated, ecstatic, and bearing the promise of one hell of a nap sometime in the near future, out of sheer exhaustion.

He seizes Bucky by the waist with his big wet paws, and presses a victorious kiss to Bucky’s mouth, nearly causing him to drop his ice cream bar. Yes, the one Bucky bought just so he’d have an excuse to step back, and enjoy the newly familiar sight of Steve Rogers having the time of his life, in the most joyful, delightfully mundane of ways.

He should get to be this carefree every day. Bucky feels very strongly about that.

“Come back in, honey, come on,” Steve cajoles, wearing the biggest, goofiest grin Bucky’s seen on him in months. Possibly since the day he caught this very man hurtling down their driveway on a hoverboard, at breakneck speed, obviously, because the original S.G.R. device only has one setting, and that setting is called ‘STEVE YES’.

Now that was an experience. It would have taken some pretty heavy divine intervention for him not to go crashing straight into the trashcans, Bucky considers distantly – and God must have thought it wasn’t worth the hassle, if the big oaf was just going to pick himself up and try again anyways.

“In a minute,” Bucky promises him. Because, while there might be a universe out there where he’s actually capable of denying this guy something he wants, that universe is definitely not this one.

“Come on, the water’s great!” Steve presses on, his meaty hands squeezing gently at Bucky’s waist, deliciously cool against Bucky’s sun-warm skin. He’s like a big puppy begging for another treat, buzzing with energy, glowing with it from the apples of his flushed cheeks to the sparkling blue of his eyes. He is, for lack of a better word, fucking precious.

Bucky slides his free hand up Steve’s chest, metal fingers stroking appreciatively over the dark whorls of his chest-hair. It’s ridiculous, how quickly he’s ready to give in.

“At least let me finish my ice cream, first,” he says, waving the thing under Steve’s nose. He could swear Steve’s ears perk up, like he’s only just noticed the little stick in Bucky’s hand.

“Oh,” he says, and it’s a pleased kind of oh. “Can I have some?”

“’course. Here.”

Rather than passing the ice cream over to him, Bucky just lifts it to Steve’s lips, inviting him to take a bite.

Eyes crinkled with some secret pleasure, Steve leans in. The thin chocolate shell breaks with a crisp, satisfying crunch under his teeth, the creamy vanilla filling kissing his bottom lip and lingering there, helpless, until Steve collects it with a slow sweep of his tongue, never one to leave someone behind. The soft mmh he releases goes straight to Bucky’s gut, warming him from deep within.

He smiles, like he’s been trying to hold back and he just can’t help himself anymore. “Is it good?”

Steve gives him the Look – the one he gets in his eyes sometimes, when the toe-curling intensity of his gaze tells Bucky that he’s thinking about them – them in their bedroom, stumbling their way through the door with groping hands and tangled legs, laugh slipping into moan slipping back around into laugh, or on the kitchen counter, making the cabinets shake and the bag of sugar spill everywhere, or in the broom closet, caught by a mid-morning frenzy like they were last Saturday, quick and frantic and muffling each other’s moans, as if somebody might have walked in on them any second. And they’re in public, so Steve can’t do anything about it; but Bucky can tell he’s filing away all the words he wants to say and saving them for later, when he can lavish them straight onto Bucky’s sweat-slick skin.

“’S nice,” Steve rumbles, gaze dropping to Bucky’s lips for a long, deliberate moment. “But I know something better.”

A sweet shiver rolls down Bucky’s spine. “Do you, now.” He palms the side Steve’s neck, thumb circling over the delicate skin behind his earlobe, and pulls Steve to him, meeting him halfway into the kiss. Steve’s lips part gloriously for him, the hot caress of his tongue slipping the taste of chocolate and vanilla into Bucky’s welcoming mouth, spiked by a thrilling hint of salt.

A few drops of saltwater drip from Steve’s beard to land on Bucky’s bare chest, and from there trickle down his stomach, skirting his navel to soak into the waistband of his swim trunks, following a path Steve himself has traced with the tip of his tongue many a time.

Only too soon, Steve nudges his chin into Bucky’s own, pulling away, and Bucky chases his lips for one last peck before he lets go.

Steve looks back at him, his eyelashes fanning darkly, thick with moisture. His eyes come alive with his smile, gleaming with the pure, blinding joy behind it. Openly adoring, they are, in a way Bucky couldn’t perceive any more clearly if Steve were spelling it out for him.

He thinks Steve knows (how deeply, desperately) he feels the same way. He thinks he should tell Steve more often anyway, just in case.

“You gonna join me, then?” Steve asks, all sun-kissed freckles and hopeful eyes, hands giving Bucky’s hips a playful little wiggle. Silly man. Bucky would reach up and pluck the sun out of the sky for him, if he only asked.

Bucky grins, and hopes it doesn’t scandalize any onlookers, with how obscenely fond it must be. “What about my ice cream, though?”

The curl of Steve’s mouth turns unexpectedly mischievous.

“Just hold it out of the water,” he says, and with no further ado, he swoops in to hook one arm behind Bucky’s knees and hoists him up, startling an undignified squeal out of him.

“What–! ”

Steve beams down at him, an almost manic glint in his eye. “Let’s go!”

And with the enthusiasm of an excited golden retriever, he goes bounding towards the glittering waves, kicking up wet sand behind them. Bucky grabs onto his broad shoulders, partly just to feel the firm muscle there, and partly out of a last-minute sense of self-preservation.

“Steve!” He calls out, laughter ripped out of his chest, sudden and shocking, as they splash a bunch of shrieking children on their path. “Put me down, you punk-ass manchild–”

“Nope,” says Steve, relenting only once the water’s reaching up to their chests. There, he stops, swaying gently with the tide, and shifts Bucky in his arms until he’s got Bucky’s legs wrapped around his middle, gathering him close. “I’m your ride for the day.”

And how could Bucky ever object to that? The ocean dances sweet and placid around them, warm under the midday sun, and the man he loves wants him here, tucked in the circle of his arms.

“Fine,” he says, pressing the word to Steve’s lips with a slow kiss. Fine, have it your way.

His last coherent thought, before Steve licks expertly into his mouth, is that they might not escape the public indecency allegations today, after all.

[saltminerising]

1, If you're looking for a reason to hate ancients: baby sandsurge

------------------------------------

2. day 48 of absolutely hating the new naming scheme for ancient genes. I hate it with every single fiber of my being and every time i'm geneing a new dragon ancient or otherwise I find a new reason to hate it. I hate hate hate hate it. it sucks so bad and it makes things so difficult for me when looking things up in the data base and in the AH the dragon breed should be right by the gene name like it used to be. it made it so much easier CAUSE LIKE IF I'm looking for genes! My eyes automatically go to the *end* of the listing name! Cause that's where the Gene Name is!!! SO WHY CANT THE DRAGON BREED STILL BE THERE urgh uggh complain complain

------------------------------------

3. desperately want a wingless earth ancient whose secondary is centered around either an armadillo-like or tortoise-like shell. please undel please i need it so bad

------------------------------------

4. Auraboa hatchlings are SO UGLY and no one is talking about it

------------------------------------

5. I always feel so bad for people who make skins for ancients in the skin contests. Like, obviously they won't win because their skin covers most of the line breaking genes. Idk I just feel like they don't think about it lol

------------------------------------

6. I'm in ice and I'm actually praying for the crystalline gala gene to be cute snowflakes. If earth people can get colourful floating rocks, we can get colourful floating fucking snow, oh my god. I'm so Extremely tired of the "zomg dragon is frozen over" theme, there are a morbillion festival skins for ancients that already do that, especially gaolers which will be one of the breeds that gets the gene. Like can we have some nice snow please. Please god.

[letters-from-the-4077]

3x11: Adam's Ribs

Dear Dad,

Remember that flu season back in ’32? When it felt like you were gone every night jumping to every single household with a kid in it because everyone all got sick all at once? And how it was after mom died but you decided that I was old enough to stay home alone, only for you to come back on that Tuesday to find me throwing up my guts all over the floor?

Good times. Terrible times, actually, but despite my pacifistic tendencies, I’d fucking kill to go through that again than the fresh hell that is my current hell. I nearly wrote you this letter from the latrines, which is terrible on multiple levels, especially considering I was actually looking forward to write to you this time.

I’ve said before that one of these days I’m finally going to snap, and even though I’m still in one piece, I’m not convinced that it’s an uncracked one. Eleven days. Eleven straight days of liver of fish, making our own damn never ending season of seafood up in Maine truly dwarf in size. Eleven straight days and I’m half convinced that each subsequent day was just the previous one’s leftovers! The fact that they’re serving us kidney at all blows my fucking mind, and over a week and a half of it for every meal has me half convinced that I’ve dreamt it all up.

They don’t tell you about how every grueling day feels like a dream, same motions, same food, same jokes, just different supporting actors underneath my scalpel. 

On the seventh day God rested, and on the eleventh day Hawkeye Pierce fucking cracked. Like I said, there’s only so many days where a man can eat liver of fish. Trap and I made this ridiculous plan—honestly, dad, I didn’t think about it working or not. I just needed something to break up the monotony. Anything. ANYTHING.

You know the place in Chicago I told you about however many years ago? The one that had the best barbequed ribs in the entire country? Couldn’t remember the name at first, but it’s Adam’s Ribs. 

Adam’s Goddamn Ribs.

A couple of pulled strings and a hell of a lot of favors somehow managed to bring us back to Chicago. Or I guess Chicago to us. It doesn’t matter- the only thing that mattered is that we somehow fucking managed to get Adam’s Ribs in the worst corner of all of Korea and Igor cooked them up and hell dad, they were the best damn things I think I’ve ever smelled in my life. 

Course, ambulances poured in the second I had my hands on them, but it made for a hell of an OR session. That’s how they should be teaching speed for MASH surgeons. Nevermind the live rounds and constant shelling, just put the idea of tantalizing, edible food on a stick right above a surgeon and you’d get the fastest cutters in the West. East.

But, oh father, I know what you’re thinking now: why the reminder of the great flu season of 1932 when so far the only thing your dear child has spoken about has been spare ribs from the great state of Illinois?

Here’s where the story gets good. And by good, I mean fucking terrible.

Great OR session, by the way. Took out enough shrapnel out of intestines to build a full new bomb, and not a single patient lost. Igor reheated the ribs for me and Trap and we had what could only be described as the greatest midnight snack in the history of the entire war. Or not just in the war, but in the history of the entire world. We headed back to our bunks more full than after a Thanksgiving spread, and not even Frank’s sniveling could change a thing.

That is before a solid and conscience five minutes had passed.

Five minutes. Five lousy minutes of euphoria that just nearly made me forget about the terrible place that I’d been forced into. And then I spent the next hour and a half, throwing up every single bit of edible food. Made the worst flu pale in comparison, I’ll tell you that much. Couldn’t even make it to the latrine the first time, and I think I scared the wits outta Trapper since it probably sounded like I was vomiting up my organs right outside his side of the tent. 

He’s a good man, Trap. Picked me up off the ground like you would’ve and helped me stumble to the latrines where I could continue throwing up every bit of goodness that I had managed to make for myself in this camp. Practically held my hair back like I was his girl, believe it or not. 

I’m writing this letter from post-op, you know. Trap’s got himself convinced that I managed to get food poisoning from the long trip that the ribs made in order to get from us. Not sure how he’s reached that conclusion given that he has exactly zero symptoms, but hell, I’m not volunteering any other explanations to him.

Between you and me, I think I’ve become a bit of a cuckoo, if you can read between the lines there. 

I mean, what sane person would practically stage a mutiny just to get food from a specific restaurant that he couldn’t even remember the name of in the first place? If Henry was just 2% more done with my shit, he could’ve gotten me in real trouble. Hell, if Henry was any other CO, I’d probably be on trial with a death sentence looming over my head for the shit I pulled just to get the first real food I’d have since stepping foot on that plane. 

All that just to throw it up a few minutes later. I may not have snapped quite yet, but I’m cracking, dad. 

I hope next flu season is kind to you up there.

Love, Hawkeye

Previous | Next

[shaunamilfman]

Wanted to share some Random YJ headcannons I have for the girlies.

Shauna:

- Despite not showing it she needs a lot of physical touch, always needs to be next to or holding her s/o in some ways, holding pinkies, grabbing her s/o’s belt loop. Whenever she gives hugs from behind she ALWAYS rests her chin/head on your shoulder.

- BARNES AND NOBLE DATES!!! Reading each other to sleep is a love language, sharing books and leaving notes in the margins for each other, giving recommendations, it’s all so important for her.

Jackie:

- She does in fact have a hoard of stuffed animals on her bed that she loves probably more than her s/o, you will have to sleep with all of them piled around you when you sleep at hers because she says she’ll “Feel bad about putting them on the floor for the night”

- (However if you also have a special stuffed animal she is unnecessarily jealous of it and will take it out of your hands as you sleep and takes its place)

- Legit can think of any excuse to have either of you touch each other “Hey babe can you rub some sunscreen on my shoulders I can’t reach.” “Oh my god you look so tense let me give you a massage” “Is there any way you can help me roll out my leg? It’s soooo sore from practice.”

Van:

- Adores lego sets, her s/o has to physically pull her away from the lego section at target.

- If you guys ever go for walks in the park or on the beach, she will always bring back the “coolest rock/leaf” to give to you

- LOVES ice hockey cause of how violent it is

Nat

- Infuriatingly good at Mario Kart

- Absolutely adores horror movies but she especially loves terrible horror movies, bad plot? terrible acting? Awful monster makeup? that’s her shit.

- Despises winter because she gets cold easily but LOVES snow, she’s absolutely mesmerized when its snowing outside, she’s basically plastered to the window looking outside

Lottie:

- Ma’am cannot regulate her body heat so she will 100% go in for a hug and you’ll jump back cause her hands are FREEZING. She will then attempt to warm her hands by putting them under your shirt.

- Absolutely DESTROYS people in Monopoly and the worst person to play with. No mercy from her at all. She becomes a whole different person.

- Will always scoot over towards you in the night when you’re sleeping so when you wake up her side is completely unoccupied, she is pressed up against you and you are hanging off the edge of the bed.

damn this is some good shit bro. i don't have much to add this is quality work.

i love the idea of like subtly touchy shauna. the belt loop thing is so real. you and Shauna writing back and forth to each other in the margins if the book your both reading??? you both have a specific color pen for it so when you reread you can always tell who said what.

Jackie Taylor def has an army sleeping on her bed that you gotta sleep around. your spooning her while she's spooning a giant fucking stuffed animal. she makes you turn them all face down/away when your fucking her fr. Jackie taking your fav stuffed animal from you so you can hold her instead?? her ass is so petty omg.

ugh van is such a cool rock girl omg. she brings you weirdly shaped leaves and cool shells she finds. you have to have a whole shelf dedicated to her little gifts she brings you.

Nat would kick your ass at Mario kart idk why that's so true. she doesn't buy in to cart strategies either she just full sends it on link. nat and the universal monster movies??

i do HC lottie as always cold. mentioned before that she presses her cold fucking feet against you while yall are sleeping. she has no shame with the hands thing all of your friends think she's coping a feel in front of them the first time she does it. lottie matthews always steals your blankets you wake up shivering with one leg off the bed every night