#Prince Scallop

[kindercelery]

can i pat edward v?

Sure vro

[regretevatorconfessions]

might be a horrible hc but:

Emerson has a secret interest in the decay of organisms

i can't explain why i think this....i just think he does for some reason.

-Prince Anon

i don’t know why but i really love this actually. interesting hc

[ravenous-feast-of-love]

Pyun pyun! Bunny is here 2 ramble about his feelings. Feel free 2 do what you’d like with this, bunny doesn’t care if it gets posted or not as it just wants 2 express its love for you in the hopes that you’d appreciate it. Bunny didn’t wanna bother you with this in DMs in case it was weird… and it rarely sends asks, so it wanted to send one. ૮꒰ “ . . ꒱ა

Bunny is so so grateful that you allow it to serve you. Bunny’s favorite part of its day is doing so. It wants to devote itself to you forever and ever!! Bunny would have no purpose without his God. Bunny needs and relies on you. Bunny doesn’t know what to do with itself when you aren’t around, it just spends its time waiting for you. Everything else is boring. Bunny is glad it has a use to you and loves being your pet! Bunny wouldn’t mind at all if you locked it in a cage, away from the world. Bunny doesn’t need anyone else besides its owner. It’s just a stupid pet anyways, obviously, you know what’s best for it! It’s lucky it has such a caring owner to look after it. You’re always so nice to bunny… and patient with it too, somehow. You always make bunny feel so reassured that you wouldn’t leave it to the point that bunny ends up feeling silly for even thinking those things in the first place. Bunny feels so so safe around you. It cries (/pos) over how nice you are to it, ehehe… pathetic, but true. Bunny is overjoyed to worship such a kind God. It adores getting to talk to you every day. Bunny is glad it’s in a position where it’s able to devote itself to you as much as it does! It’d do almost anything you ask of it. If you desire something, then bunny will always do its best to provide! Bunny wants to stay by your side for as long as possible and be the best pet that it can be for you. You are so important 2 bunny and make bunny so incredibly happy!!! Bunny loves its God very much ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

- 🐇

Since you insisted~

Ah, can words truly satisfy as an answer bunny? Even I don’t know. It’s all the same words over and over again. You know the drill. ‘I’d keep you in a cage’ or ‘I want you to only look at me’ and the classic ‘SQUISH SQUISH SQUISH’. I fear it may tire out one day.

I must say though, they are all words that come to mind, unfiltered and unadulterated. I can’t help but think of the same things every day, it all becomes repetitive. But it’s only a product of a mind, like a railway train, chugging round and round the tracks, the circuits it is bound to.

And you may be wondering ‘O Prince of Longing! Am I one of the many stops your divine train of thought stops?’ And the answer is… Yes. Yes it is.

Seeing pictures of your kins reminds me of you. Watching others interact reminds me of you. Being sad reminds me of you. Etc. etc.

How is a mere stray bunny able to soothe the heart of a wistful God so well? I’m afraid I haven’t the answer. Don’t you think it’s pathetic, that I satiate this hunger by clutching onto you for life? Shame on me. I have a Blessed Beloved I look after, yet somehow, someway, you have left me spellbound, just like the fading ghost.

And how this bloody heart aches, knowing I can’t help any of you.

Is a God truly a God if he isn’t your saviour?

Again, I haven’t the answer.

So many humane feelings I’m not yet familiar with, so many foreign words that never cross my mind.

‘i love you’

How could one loves such a meek excuse for a Prince?

[prince-lear-official]

I CAN BREAK FREE

-@mogyona-the-chaos-creator

..who the hell?

[paletapessoal]

Scallop Shell, sapphire, diamond and gold “Lion’s Paw” Brooch, ca.1942. Commissioned by the Prince de Boncampagni.

[golden-sandwing]

Albatross family

King Albatross and Queen Emerald

After the death of Queen Lagoon (the cause of death was not revealed) Prince Albatross's wife assumed the throne with him, Albatross became a respected king for having animus magic

Albatross is mentally healthy and has more freedom in relation to his magic, his wife has always helped him in Lagoon's relationship to control his life since the shell accident that took out the claws of Princess Sapphire, Albatross's older sister.

Princess Manta and Prince Eel

Princess Manta is the kingdom's royal general, she was excellent in her tests and studies, besides being intelligent she is very strong in combat, Lagoon wanted her to be a servant or advisor but she refused and her parents let her be a general

Prince Eel is the royal advisor and also the best storyteller in the kingdom, he is extremely intelligent and always studies something in relation to the tribes in addition to always looking for evidence of animus and guiding exams to find out if there is another animus in the tribe

Princes Current and Scallop

Current is a young dragon and the oldest among his brother and his cousins, he and his brother are the two sons of Prince Eel, they only have their father, he trains to be a guard and protect his family

Scallop is Eel's second son, he is the same age as his cousins, who is 4 years old, he studies with them and he wants to be a great storyteller like his father

Prince Fathom and Princess Pearl

Fathom and Pearl are the two children of princess Arraia and a servant called Reef (her husband) Fathom is a young animus dragon and apprentice of his grandfather Albatross, in a year he will be old enough to leave to meet another supposed animus in the kingdom of night

Pearl loves making shiny accessories and giving them to her family, she really wants to be an animus but she doesn't have an animus so her brother Fathom tries to cheer her up by taking shiny stones and turning them into little animal statues for her.

Fathom, Pearl and Scallop hatched a year after Lagoon's death so they didn't meet her

[cressida-jayoungr]

One Dress a Day Challenge

August: Fantasy & Sci-Fi

Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time / Gemma Arterton as Princess Tamina

What really makes this costume for me is the filmy cloak. It looks simple at first glance, but on closer inspection, you can see that it's covered with delicate embroidery in pale gold. There are floral-looking roundels all around the border, and the hood has small flower and vine designs as well, in addition to a scalloped edge. The dress underneath is fairly basic, but it reinforces the cream and gold color scheme.

I also think they way they've done her hair is very pretty, with the pearls and silver ribbon braided into it.

[writing-fanics]

Need prince eric angst please thank youuu. Reader leaving the castle after he fell in love with Ariel and Vanessa stuffs. And Eric just realizing at the last moment when the reader is packing up.

•… you made your choice …•

Prince Eric x Reader

.warning: angst

a/n: decided to have eric realize when its far too late

You didn’t know how to feel at this moment, watching from afar as Eric and Ariel quietly walked through the castle hallway drenched. A smile on both their faces acting like two teenagers, who snuck out for a night of fun.

You remembered, when the two of you would do the exact same thing. Taking a carriage to the village and spend the entire day together. When the two of you would dance together in the village. You always felt as if you were in a dream a dream you didn’t want to wake up from.

Eating the best Jamaican Festival, you’ve had in your entire life. Even going back for seconds. and then to end the night stargazing, sitting on a blanket by the lake. Him telling you about the star constellations.

Moments like that were forever engraved into your memory. You watched, as he stared at Ariel going up the stairs to only stop placing the hat on his head smiling. Before turning back around and continuing up the stairs.

You looked down at the ground as you wished, he looked at you the same way he looked at her just now. That same look of longing You gave him but he didn’t return.

Grimsby appeared behind Eric seemingly out of nowhere, and you backed away slipping away into the darkness. Eric looked up from the hat, and in the corner of his eye. He saw you walking away, and could’ve sworn he saw a tear streaming down your cheek.

.•.•.••..

He wasn't even yours to lose and yet you still couldn't comprehend that part. Watching, as the one you love falling in love with another is such a painful thing to witness. Knowing that you were too late.

You've often tried to confess your feelings for Eric but would fail miserably. Freezing up in place the words getting caught up in your throat to get the right words out. You've attempted to, telling him in letter form to only rip up the letter before being able to hand it to him. You would mentally hit yourself for being too scared too shy, and such a coward and shout at yourself to just tell him.

"Y/n?" A voice called out quietly. Glancing over your shoulder you saw Eric standing there, holding the hat. You quickly composed yourself and turned towards him forcing a smile on your face.

"H-How was your evening?" You asked, and he looked at you a smile growing across his cheeks, "Quite, amazing actually." He said, and started to tell you about the day he had with Ariel. and it broke your heart.

"T-That sounded like..." You paused for a moment, trying to compose yourself again as tears welled up in your eyes, "So...much..fun." You strained, as you looked at him your smile faltering a bit. He continued, to tell you about the day he had each felt like a jab to your heart, and even so when he brought up the boat ride with Ariel and how they almost shared a kiss. But the boat, that they were in had tipped over. Which is why his clothes are currently drenched.

Keeping a straight face, You looked at him and smiled. "I-I, gotta go." You said, and he looked at you for a moment, "oh, okay." He watched, as you walked away and something in him told him to go after you, but in the end, he didn't

'Stupid stupid stupid!'

'God, why do you have to be so pathetic'

You internally shouted at yourself, for being too timid to even confess your feelings for Eric when you had the chance. The guilt slowly eats you up inside. As you entered your room you slumped over the bed, landing face first on the matress. Tears brimming your eyes, as you nuzzled your head into the matress.

After a bit, you lifted your head and gazed towards the scallop seashell on the nightstand. Reaching towards it you held it in your hand, craved it on the inside.

E + Y/n

You smiled softly, as your thumb gently rubbed against it. You and Eric, did this years ago back when the two of you were fourteenn And you never once did you forget that moment. Even then, you were just as timid as you are now. You stared at it and tears streamed down your cheeks, as you held it in your hand.

"Eric, what're you doing?" You asked, and watched as he carved both of your initials into the scallop seashell. Your heart swelled, watching him do so. And once he was finished, he handed it to you.

"I love it." You said, looking at him and he smiles looking at you, and just then Grimsby called out his name. "Sorry, but I have to go." He said, and you nodded in response staring at the seashell in awe. Before you could react, he planted a kiss on your cheek. Causing you to tense up and your cheeks to turn bright red. Your heart was pounding against your chest, as you brought your hand up to touch where you felt his lips.

"That's it, I'm going to tell him my feelings tomorrow and if he doesn't accept them then.." You said, looking down at the seashell. "Then....I'll have to live with it." You said, falling back onto the bed and continuing to stare at the seashell before closing your eyes, falling into a dreamless sleep nervous about tomorrow.

Morning came faster than you thought, and you swiftly got outta bed and prepared for the day. Also mentally, prepare yourself to confess your feelings to Eric. Despite being tired you felt happy but also nervous, and honestly scared.

So you put a smile on your face and grabbed the seashell and made your way, to where you thought Eric might be. Rushing, down the hallway and accidentally bumping into one of the servants.

When you opened the door to the outside balcony where, the dining table was, your heart sank. Seeing him standing beside a girl wearing a purple dress. So he finally found the one he wanted to be with. There was no point in you trying to confess your feelings any longer, he found the one he wanted and it wasn't you.

Staring at the seashell, gripping both sides of it with your hand. Both of your hands shook, as you snapped it in half letting it fall to the floor before rushing back inside the castle towards your room.

Eric was confused and out of it, as he was underneath the trance of Vanessa. As he walked towards the door back inside the castle, he glanced down noticing the familiar-looking scallop seashell now broken in half. He knelt down to pick it up, one side said E and the other Y/n.

"Y/n." He muttered, before shaking his head as if snapping back into a trance and walking back inside the castle. to prepare for the engagement party.

Once back in your room, you grabbed all your clothes from the wardrobe and started packing everything into your bag. Were you being rash? Yes, but you couldn't stay here any longer and deal with the constant heartbreak. You wanted, to go home back to the island where your sister is and live with her.

Suddenly there's a knock at the door, "Come in," You said, and you wished you hadn't said that, cause who opened the door no one but Eric. He seemed confused, noticing you packing your bag.

"Oh, it's you shouldn't you be preparing for the party?" You asked, looking at him he seemed dazed and confused, almost out of it.

"I-I found this seems someone might've-"

"Why're you packing?" He asked, and you looked at him and rolled your eyes, "I'm going to see my sister." You said, and he looked at you.

"Oh," He said, still holding the broken seashell. "Are you coming back?" He asked, and she looked up at him.

"Probably, not." You said, putting in the last of your clothes and tieing up the back to close it tight. "Why not?" He asked, and you looked at him, "I have my reasons. "

"what reasons," Eric asked.

"not saying." You said

"Why not?" He said.

"Because." You said.

"Is it bad did something happen?" He asked

"Eric, just drop it." You said, looked down, and sighed. Picking up your bag and placing it over your shoulder, as you walked passed him you paused for a moment and turned back to look at him. "Wanna know why? Seashell.. E + Y/n.." You said, before walking down the hallway leaving him alone standing in now what was once your room.

Leaving behind a few things he'd given you over the years, something in him wanted to call out for you but something was holding him back. 'E + Y/n..'

He thought on that for a bit until it finally struck him like a wave, and he mumbled something under his breath. Opening up the palm of his hand and holding both pieces of the seashell together, "Eric and Y/n" He mumbled, and not even Ursula's spell could hold him back.

Cause the moment he said that, he dropped the broken seashell on the ground and ran after You. Hoping, that it isn't too late.

[extranthaeic]

(camarilla) prince occuden.

[Image description: A flag with seven horizontal stripes. The 2nd, 3rd, 5th, and 6th stripes are all scalloped facing outwards. The 2nd and 6th stripes are very thin. The colors of the stripes, from top to bottom, are: deep red, blue-black, muted red-orange, light gold, and the first three colors in reverse. In the center of the flag is a rounded hexagon colored light reddish gray and thinly outlined in blue-black with a shadow behind it. Inside of the hexagon is a blue-black crown. End description.]

a flag for those who are (camarilla) prince occudens! the occupation of (camarilla) prince from vampire: the masquerade strongly influences one’s identity.

one may identify as a "camarilla prince" or just a "prince" - i’ve included "camarilla" throughout the post to avoid confusion with more general uses of "prince."

the term "prince" is not gendered in the context of vtm, but users may use different gendered substitutes if they prefer.

the flag colors are inspired by the masqueradevampic flag, plus gold for royalty. the crown symbol is by smashingstocks on flaticon.

tagging: @occuden-archive, @radiomogai, @rwuffles

[world-of-wales]

CATHERINE'S STYLE FILES - 2023

1 JUNE 2023 || The Princess of Wales along with Prince William attended the Royal Wedding Ceremony of Crown Prince Hussein and Rajwa Al Saif at the Zahran Palace in Amman, Jordan.

Catherine opted for -

↬  Embroidered Floral Gown in Pink by Elie Saab

↬  Pink Diamond Statement Wedding Gift Earrings (possibly from the Jordanian Royal Family)

↬  'Charlie' Clutch Bag in 'Gold Glitter' from Wilbur and Gussie

↬  Scalloped Sandals in Beige by Prada

[kindercelery]

Trick or treat (do these Kinder Surprise Eggs by any chance contain any spare nephews with claims to the throne?)! :D

Hmmm let’s see- oh?

You get…. Edward V and Richard Duke of York!! (So that’s where they’ve been….)

[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 1)

Prologue | Chapter 2

Content Warning: Soft, safe, unwilling vore

Word Count: 2.1k

------ Chapter 1: A Typical Royal Dinner ------

Six years later… 

Crown Prince Ronny, the adult heir to the throne, sat down at his usual spot at the table, on the right-hand side of his father, the king. King Richard claimed his rightful place at the head of the table, and Princess Bianca, the youngest by about two years, sat across from her brother Ronny. The king’s personal guard Ajax, his shadow, stood discreetly off to the side behind his seat, ever watchful. 

Ronny, dour as always, glared at his sister, who stuck her tongue out at him in response. He scoffed superciliously and removed his gloves for dinner, folding them neatly on the table. He was rescued from having to converse with his loathsome family members by the servants, who came in balancing plates loaded with vittles. Ronny sat in a gloomy silence as Chester, the royal food taster, checked each entrée for poison. He curled his lip with mild disgust when he was given his portion: prime rib, sautéed swiss chard, and scalloped potatoes, with a human dressed in a light sauce. 

Bianca had a similar reaction, poking and prodding the tiny woman on her plate with her fork. The woman winced, but stayed silent and didn’t try to run, knowing the consequences of resisting giant royalty would be far more gruesome. “Daddy, when are we going to get more humans? It’s been a while since the last tribute.” 

King Richard wiped his lips daintily with a napkin as he gleefully swallowed the human on his own plate. “Hmmm… it’s been a while, hasn’t it? We are certainly overdue for some fresh meat.” 

The giantess princess perked up. “If so, can you order some little men this time? Pleeeeeease? Ladies are fine and all, but they’re all we ever get, and I want a handsome boy to play with…” She pouted, scraping her fork with an obnoxious screech on her dish. Her human repast covered her ears and grimaced. Ronny rolled his eyes. 

The king gave his daughter a knowing smirk and chuckled lightly. “I’ll see what I can arrange, my darling.” He picked up his knife and cut into his meat, which leaked blood onto his plate. 

Ronny shook his head and dug into his own meal, flicking the human carelessly off his slab of prime rib. He didn’t understand his father’s obsession with tiny maidens, or his sister’s fascination with miniature men. Why couldn’t she be normal for once and content herself with an attractive giant instead? Humans were fine for eating, when he was in the right mood, but otherwise Ronny found them to be gross vermin, clambering around with their wiry legs like bugs. Distracted by his thoughts, he failed to notice his tiny female side dish had crawled off the edge of his plate. He put a bite of meat in his mouth, and his face puckered with detestation.  

“Ugh!” he groaned, spitting the offending meat back onto his dish without concern for decorum. “Nasty!” His face turned purple with rage. “Bring me the royal chef!” he bellowed. The servants scrambled to obey. Soon enough, the obese chef rushed into the dining room, huffing and puffing with the effort. 

“Yes, Your Highness? How may I best serve you?” he asked nervously, wringing his hands and picking at his blond mustache. He was sweating profusely, his skin ruddy with exertion. 

“Bucky!” Ronny roared. “This food isn’t fit to serve to a dog! The meat is cold in the middle and saltier than the sea! Dumping a mountain of salt on such a bland cut doesn’t improve the flavor, you cretin! I’m a prince, and I deserve only the best, not this offensive rubbish!”  

His temper flared as he got worked up into a frenzy. He stood up out of his chair and gesticulated with his hands aggressively. “You’re a sorry excuse for a cook, you worthless piece of shit! Just look at these vegetables! Wilted strings reeking of too much garlic and swimming in watery juices! And these potatoes! Unpalatable texture, lumpy and uneven, tasteless paste! Unacceptable, reprehensible slop!” 

He picked up the plate and hurled it against the wall with all his might, shattering the porcelain and staining the wall and expensive carpeting with juices. The servants hurried forward to clean up the mess in a hush. Nobody was especially surprised by his tantrum: The servants were accustomed to unhinged outbursts from the royal family. Ronny ignored them and continued to verbally berate the chef, who pointedly stared at his feet. Ronny shoved his finger into his fat chest as he ranted in his face, spitting and swearing. After several minutes of screaming at the top of his lungs and frothing at the mouth, Ronny finally cooled down, dismissing the silent chef with a contemptuous wave of his hand. His face changed from pink back to its usual pasty shade. He crossed his arms petulantly and slumped in his chair. 

“Good job, Ronny,” King Richard praised, grinning wide. “Sometimes you need to put the commoners in their place and make them fear you.” He chomped down on a bite of meat, clearly enjoying his meal despite his son’s scathing condemnation of its quality. Ronny shrugged, still scowling. The servants, so inferior to the royals as to be invisible to them, cleaned up his mess in the background. 

Bianca was unperturbed by Ronny venting his spleen, continuing to toy with the human on her plate as she ate the food around her. Eventually, she got bored and lifted the poor woman up by her leg, studying her wriggling with a cold inquisitiveness. She lowered the tiny woman headfirst into her mouth, licking her face and closing her plump lips around her torso before slurping her flailing legs inside with the rest of her body. She sucked on the delicious morsel for a while, shuffling her from one cheek to the other, before sending her off on a trip to her stomach with a hearty gulp. 

She watched as the servants flitted anxiously back to the table, bringing with them a sumptuous feast of roasted partridge and yams for the picky prince. He sulked as the royal food taster sampled each portion and cleared the food for consumption. The servants backed away, sweating nervously as Ronny tasted the partridge. The bratty prince raised an eyebrow and grunted, but didn’t complain. The tension dissipated among the servants and they disappeared into the background again, relieved not to be on the receiving end of another explosive fit. 

“Hey, Ronny, what happened to the human in your food?” Bianca queried.  

Ronny shrugged as he continued to shovel food into his mouth. “Fuck if I know. She probably ended up as a red stain on the wall.” 

King Richard frowned. “What a waste.” He gave Ronny a stern look. The aura in the room subtly changed, as if the air itself chilled. “Don’t squash your humans so carelessly, Ronny. They are valuable, and we can only extract so many without them revolting against us.” 

Ronny stiffened. “Of course, Father,” he mumbled, casting his eyes downward. “I won’t do it again.” The king assumed a milder expression, accepting his words, and the mood lightened again. Ronny repressed a shudder. 

“I never understood why you don’t just conquer the human kingdom, enslave the populace, and farm them,” Bianca remarked, tilting her head. “Wouldn’t that make more sense? Then you can have as many as you want.” 

The king sighed and shook his head. “Unfortunately, it’s not that simple. Haven’t you noticed the humans that are here for a long time tend to lose their unique flavor and vitality? That’s because, if they’re not fed and cared for well, and they grow sad, they become frailer, weaker, and less appealing to the palate. That’s why over time we need fresh tributes, and why I usually dispose of them, when they are no longer of any use to us for our personal pleasure.” 

He licked his lips as he finished the last bite of his dinner. “I prefer my humans to be free-range, so to speak, and of high quality. That standard of health isn’t possible if they were all forcibly imprisoned. Happy humans also multiply in greater numbers, which is even better for us. Let them have their silly little kingdom, go about their lives, and exist in blissful ‘freedom.’ As long as they give us our rightful share and don’t complain, I will be content.” 

He inserted his fingers into his pocket and pulled out a small, trembling woman. “Of course, as you know, not all humans go stale! I still have my favorites, like my cute sweet little Millie, now don’t I?” He grinned roguishly and nuzzled her with his nose. 

“Y-yes, of course, Your Majesty! I would never want to disappoint you!” the poor creature squeaked, out of fright rather than affection. Ronny looked away, repulsed by the display. He hated his father’s distasteful perversions and could hardly stand to watch. Bianca stared at him with jealousy, wishing she had a tiny man to kiss and pet and play with. King Richard always exclusively requested maidens as tribute, and she was fed up with his selfishness. She was used to always getting what she wanted, so the fact that she couldn’t have one irritated her to no end. 

The servants cleared the dirty dishes off the table and brought slices of cheesecake for dessert. King Richard removed a small vial from his pocket full of a glowing blue potion and dripped a drop onto Millie’s head. Her face paled with dread as her body absorbed the substance, a magical anti-digestion fluid that would keep her unharmed inside his stomach. He pressed her into the soft dessert with his index finger up to her shoulders. She turned her head away from him, and Ronny spotted quiet tears glistening on her cheeks. The prince switched his attention to his own dessert and ate in silence, ignoring the display.  

King Richard scooped up Millie with his fork and licked the sweet filling off her body, chuckling at her small whines of discomfort. He gently enveloped her in his mouth, humming with delight. After slopping his tongue all over her and sliding her against the inner walls of his teeth, he took another bite of cheesecake and rolled her around with it, sucking it all up with pleasure. He continued in this manner until he finished his entire slice before finally gulping down the small lady. 

Ronny hastened to excuse himself from the table, grabbing up his gloves. As he lifted them, he noticed an abnormal weight inside, caused by a small, shivering lump. He flipped the glove and dumped its mystery contents out on the table, only to discover the food human that he thought he’d thrown across the room was hidden inside. She tumbled out and landed on the hard surface with a splattering of sauce. 

Ronny glared at her, then at his fancy gloves, soiled inside with sauce. “Ugh! Look what you did, you filthy little rat! These gloves are ruined!” He flung the gloves away, his dark eyes flashing as his white-hot wrath returned with a vengeance. The woman’s eyes widened and she cowered before the giant man looming above her like a mountain. She had already narrowly escaped death when he smashed his dinner plate against the wall; she knew what he was capable of with his volatile temper. 

The giant prince slammed his fist on the table next to her, startling her to her feet. Even standing up, she was shorter than his stacked fingers; he could easily crush her in his grasp like an insect. Her legs turned into useless rubber beneath her as she comprehended the futility of resisting and collapsed to the table. Ronny unclenched his fist and grabbed her up, raising her close to his face. 

“Vile, foul worm,” he grumbled as she whimpered helplessly in his hand. “I’ll make you pay for that.” He knew humans hated to be eaten, so he shoved her into his mouth and swallowed her hard, sending her straight to the fleshy prison in his midsection. King Richard grinned with approval as he observed his son. Ronny stormed off in a huff, stomping on his gloves and kicking them to the side on his way out. 

He clomped down one of the many stony corridors of the castle, fuming with irritation. He could feel the human fighting inside his gut as she was jostled about by his rapid steps. That idiotic human deserved her punishment. Those gloves were custom-made, based on the measurements of his hands, and now he’d have to order a new pair from the royal tailor. Such an inconvenience! 

Chapter 2

[mercurygray]

hiya, merc! could i please request 5. scallop from the june prompts list for marion? <3 — @shoshiwrites

Funny story - you and @antinousw1ld gave me the same word for Marion! I'm sorry if either of you wanted something with nutritional value. This is...just smut. 1920s AU smut.

🌶️🌶️🌶️warning!!

The city was hot.

New York was currently in the deep idle hours of July, one long slow slide of dripping sweat and soaked through handkerchiefs, all of it accompanied by the low oscillating drone of the electric fan and the near-futile swing of newspapers and comic books. By noon the city had ground to a near-standstill as everyone retreated inside to close the shades and dream of the sounds of a dripping icebox.

Neil Harding was hot, too - and normally he didn't hold with shirtsleeves, but there wasn't any way around it the way this heat was going on. The band of his hat was already soaked through, and his vest, too, was already unbuttoned, the small of his back soaked with sweat underneath.

There was some relief from the heat in the marble lobby of the apartment building, but not much. The doorman had also done away with his dark jacket, looking up from his racing paper as Neil came inside, jacket over his arm.

"Winning or losing today, George?" Neil asked with a grin.

"The way it's going I think we're all losers, Mr. Harding," the doorman said with a shrug. "Did well on that tip, though, sir. Pasadena Nina came in running."

Harding smiled and winked. If the cost of keeping his doorman happy was a couple of two dollar wins here and there, who was he to deny it? "Don't tell anyone where you got it, you hear? Any mail for me?"

"Nothing today, sir. You're a brave man to be out in this heat, if you don't mind me saying, sir."

"Someone's got to keep the world running, George." He took the stairs two at a time up to the third floor, pockets jangling as he went.

The apartment was quiet, even without the usual street noise, and the blinds that usually kept the room flooded with light were closed. Neil left his hat by the door and looked around, observing the purse by the door, the umbrella still in the coatstand as he locked the door behind him. "Pink? Pink, are you here?" No answer.

He loosened his tie and glanced into the kitchen - also empty. Perhaps she, like the rest of the city, was taking a nap.

"Marion?" He poked his head into the study, and then moved down the hall to the bedroom door, still open. "Darling, you here?"

The sleeping woman stirred only a little, and Neil only smiled. Let her sleep - she was a busy woman, too. Lover, mistress, girlfriend, partner -- all of them and none of them at once. A prize for kings and princes, certainly - or, in their absence, of local vice barons, of which he considered himself a pretty prime example of the species. And, in the moment, just about the prettiest thing he'd ever seen, lying on top of the white cotton bed coverlet in a short shell pink negligee that sleep had contorted high on her hips, straining against a breast. His eye rested for a moment on the curve of her feet, following the line of her leg up, up, up, to the neat scalloped edge of the garment, tantalizingly close to the dark whorl of hair between her legs and all the delights therein. Neil allowed himself a smile at the thought and sat down at the end of the bed to take off his shoes and socks, pulling his tie free of his collar and standing back up to get to work on his shirt.

"Well, don't be quick about it."

Neil turned around, hands on his buttons, and smiled - she'd woken up, looking perfectly wanton with her hair everywhere and her negligee halfway to hell already. Marion smiled and sat up a little, resting on her elbows. "A girl likes to enjoy the floor show every once in a while, you know."

Harding grinned. "Oh, she does, does she?" He slowly shrugged out of his vest and undid another few buttons on his shirt. "And what's a …working boy get for his time these days?"

"Depends if I like what I see," Marion replied, watching him undo his belt and let it fall to the floor. "Did you get what you wanted with Red?"

"The source is good," he replied, making a long show of taking off his shirt. "We got what we needed and then some." He paused, looking down at her on the bed. "I'm sorry you couldn't be there."

She shrugged. "I ran some errands and came home. It's too hot to be out in the streets. Decided a nap was a better use of my time."

His hand paused on the button of his trousers. "Must have been …awfully tiring, those errands."

But she saw what he was doing, and sat up a little more, drawing her knees up, the negligee falling back to expose her entirely, her eyes fixed firmly on him as she did it. His mouth was suddenly dry, and he resisted the urge to sigh. "That just means I'm very well rested."

Neil smiled and undid his trousers, letting them drop so that he was standing at the end of the bed in his underwear, perfectly aware that he was already dripping with sweat. "It's a little hot out, Pink," he said mildly, as though he were thinking of denying her anything.

Her hand moved to the front of her slip, opening her thighs a little wider to cover herself with a spread palm. "I could start without you," she threatened, as if it were anything like a threat, and Neil felt himself stirring at even the suggestion of the thing,

"Now, now," he said, his eyes following her hand. "The working boy wants to do a little bit of honest work today, Miss Brennan." He climbed on to the end of the bed, crawling carefully between her legs and spreading them just a little wider with his own knees so he could lean in close and kiss her. "Give a fellow a chance." The back of her hand was brushing the front of his shorts, cock twitching a little at the nearness of them. "The streets are too quiet," he remarked with a grin. "They're gonna hear you downstairs."

"Let 'em," she replied, sliding her hand along his shorts. "It won't just be me."

[mahou-mogai]

Girlprincemagigirl / Bifauxnenmagigirl

[pt: Girlprincemagigirl / Bifauxnenmagigirl /end pt]

A gender under the gendermagigirl system(link) connected to being a girl prince or bifauxnen(link) and a magical girl. Girl princes, princely girls and bifauxnen are connected to girls who are especially masculine, whether in appearance or behavior, but in a way similar to a fairytale prince.

Not exclusive to girls just people who are especially connected to the tropes of girl princes and magical girls

[flag id: a rectangular pride flag with 13 horizontal stripes. the stripes are mirrored at the center and outward in are: a thin scalloped stripe, a medium width simple lace stripe with hearts, a thin stripe, a thin scalloped stripe, a thin beaded stripe, a thinnes stripe, and the center stripe has a large bow in the center. hanging down from the center stripe is a beaded line with small bows hanging down. the colors top down, mirrored at the last are: black, dark red, bright red, white, light blue, blue, and pink with a darker pink outline. the bows hanging down are a medium blue. /end id]

[banner id: a banner with two sets of red and dark red lace at the bottom with a white outline. to the left is a small Cure Chocolat. in the center it reads "made by Mod Chocolat" /end id]

[macbetha]

makoharu au concept from the void // witch haru x werewolf makoto // cw blood

Makoto still fears witches as if he were nothing more than a toddler.

Like most of his consuming little quirks, he can blame the superstitions on his lycanthropy. Werewolves have an ingrained weariness towards any mysticism beyond what is earthen in nature. Herbal remedies are acceptable, but nobody in his old pack harvested plants that grow near lakes.

“The sickest witches come from the water,” an elder used to say, lisped by her fang. “They drown themselves to achieve power, then drown others to maintain it. Water magic is sacrificial and ruthless. They will take any form to lure you under, and you are going to want to take their hand when they reach for you, child, but you must remember: a witch never lets go.”

A witch never lets go.

_________

Makoto blurts, “Does the vampire prince know you’re here with me?”

Haruka doesn’t respond, continuing to sprinkle ingredients into the cauldron. Makoto’s face is flushed from the heat, yet the sweat pattering from his hairline feels like ice.

He tries to firm up his voice. “Are you attempting this ritual on behalf of the prince?”

Haruka’s drawl comes out much smoother. “Are you more afraid of Rin than me, Tachibana-san?” The witch looks at him with an eerie indigo halo around his pupils. The narrow sharpness of his face, accompanied by the long tendrils of his bangs, presents quite a sight.

Makoto’s blush deepens and Haruka resumes his work, appearing satisfied. Makoto focuses on the embroidery along the witch’s trench collar, hoping to distract himself. Scales run up Haruka’s throat in jagged, blistered swirls. They match the witch’s hair almost perfectly, like black stars.

The cauldron’s whispers make Makoto flinch. With chiming silver jewelry, Haruka disarms him with another lazy stare. “Your time for fear is dwindling,” the witch says. The lone freckle at the corner of his eye is gray. “I won’t make this choice for you. Stay and get paid or leave.”

Irritation flares in Makoto’s gut. “What do you even need werewolf blood for?”

“A ritual,” Haruka drones with a biting air of sarcasm. He rolls his eyes, the whites catching the light with a filmy iridescence. “Just as the ad stated.”

Steam hisses over the cauldron’s lip. Makoto says, “Are you going to hurt people with the knowledge you gain from this?”

“Obviously.” Haruka looks offended by the question. “You’ve given me no inclination to think that you can stomach the specifics and I never agreed to share them. You answered the ad knowing this procedure involved no questions asked. I wouldn’t be paying you a small fortune otherwise.” Hesitation prickles across his expression and he tongues his lip ring. “For the record, your part in this experiment will be anonymous to all except me. I won’t incriminate you. My word is yours.”

Makoto snorts bitterly. “I wasn’t aware witches could make promises.”

Haruka just blinks. “Did you want me to secure it with a blood oath?”

Makoto laughs. He’s potentially losing his mind in a single night but something about Haruka’s deadpan disposition really sold him, and he’s glad to hear himself laugh one last time.

Haruka is surprised in his own quiet way. “You’re strange,” he mutters.

Makoto smiles, defeat prickling behind his eyes. “Yeah, I know.”

Haruka finishes his preparations and Makoto knows that he is truly out of time to keep straddling the fence. He can practically taste a forest night on the back of his tongue, cold and earthy, the lake shore wet and sucking. Haruka’s spindly hands look quite inviting.

Makoto finds the resolve to steady his breathing. “Will it hurt?”

Haruka’s ear, scalloped near the tip, twitches like he didn’t hear that right. Then the witch squints and seems to understand. Makoto was not braced for those delicate lips to pull into a smirk. “Not in the least,” Haruka says.

Makoto’s heart leaps at that tone. He tries to decipher the witch’s amusement and begins to grow twice as dizzy. “Are you saying this will feel…” He blinks rapidly. Excitedly. “Good?”

Makoto always was an open book and Haruka reads him like his favorite spell. “I’ll make you feel very good.”

Haruka reaches out. Makoto imagines tracing the curve of his wrist with his tongue, letting those silver rings sizzle against his teeth.

Like sinking into deep oceanic black, he takes the witch’s hand.

[buttered-water]

Student Profile: Scallop (may add more in the future)

Scallop, Prince

Tribe - Seawing

Winglet - Pearl

Colour - Deep Green

Relatives - Princess Tsunami (sister), Princess Anemone (sister), Prince Turtle (brother)

Clawmates - Ochre (Mudwing), Darkstalker (Nightwing)

Favourite subject - Scavengers 101

Least fav. subject - History. Specifically seawing history

Physical characteristics - large, wavey, luminous markings; royal wing markings; average size, slim, can usually be seen wearing jewellery in the shape of three moons on his neck, big scar in the shape of a dragon claw across his face and claw marks along his body caused by Coral

Other characteristics/personality - Straightforward, fidgety, trouble sitting still, loud about what he wants and how he feels (specifically his goal to challenge Queen Coral and take the throne) Can’t take no for an answer, quick to take charge—Doesnt like being told what to do. Has a collection of scavenger items and equipment (including weapons, trinkets and, mostly strange objects that make noise he says scavengers call “instruments''; he has been advised not to bring them to classes), asks lots of questions (not objectionable, however, he often talks over teachers and other students), agitated whenever someone shows support for Queen Coral (monitor in case it leads to aggression, suggest counselling), “According to Queen Coral, Scallop doesn't understand royal seawing succession. She mandates that he takes history classes specifically focused on seawings” - Webs; loves singing and making noise on his "instruments"; vocally talented; Rumours have started to spread that Scallop is a part of the terrorist organization H.A.T.D (Humans Against the Tyranny of Dragons. most likely fake but continue to monitor just in case), one bad event from completely breaking down

The next member of the Pearl Winglet is probably going to be Ochre (mostly cause I have so much I have to say about him)