#Rusty Rally

[rusty-rex-banger-rallies]

Planning and Executing a Successful and funny Fundraising Road Trip

Do you often fantasize about a fantastic vacation you might take? Imagining all the amazing places to see and activities to partake in at the destination is a lot of fun. However, it normally takes a lot of preparation, such as checking times, purchasing tickets, and making reservations. It can be a real challenge. Yes, planning a fantasy vacation can be time-consuming and expensive, but the rewards are well worth the effort.

 If you've decided to take a vacation, what do you do first? It's true - you get to decide where you're going. Which comes first, Disney World or New York City? Are you planning on going to a Charity road trip like Yellowstone or a state park like Grand Canyon? Beginning a fundraising effort without a clear target is like stating, "I don't know where we're going, but I hope we get there!" when setting out on a road trip. (Don't really make much sense, do they?)

 Your group's efforts for the entire year should be focused on reaching your annual goal. Regardless of whether your Banger Rally Videos operates on a calendar year, school year, fiscal year, or something else entirely, you still need to establish this ultimate aim.

 The financial objectives of your company should be primarily determined by the constraints of your budget. In other words, how much of the annual budget will need to be raised in order to cover the costs? Put this year's "major target" in writing and make it a goal.

 Assuming you already know where the money is going in Charity Banger Rally, the next step is to divide the total into more manageable chunks.

 Picture the various events, raffles, and candy sales that your group hosts as the roads that lead you to your goal. Therefore, the fundraising objectives for any given campaign or event will vary at www.banger-rally.co.uk The total sum of the goals should be greater than or equal to the annual target.

[papierboa]

do not spend 8 hours learning how to model and rig in blender oh my god kill me

[cerisesparadise]

this one's for you — lee heeseung

pairing - basketball captain!heeseung x supportive girlfriend!reader

genre - fluff, established relationship, university au, sports au

warnings - rivalry (it's just friendly competition between enhadream though lol), mentions of kisses - lmk if there's more!

wc - 1.7k

sypnosis - In the midst of a fierce rivalry between two universities, Decelis Academy of Excellion faces off against NCIT - Neo Culture Insititute of Technology - in a championship game. As tension builds on the court, his girlfriend’s unwavering support becomes his secret weapon

mentions - nct dream as the opposing basketball team (my engene czennie heart <3)

a/n - hi!! i'm cerise!! i wrote this because i was scrolling through tiktok and saw clips of movies like "she's dating the gangster" and "high school musical", so ofc, the first person to come into mind was heeseung. though this isn't the first time i've written something, it is the first post on this blog (i'm so rusty- i apologise :') ). so here's to my first post - hope you enjoy reading!

also- i know heeseung's jersey in the header pic says 11 but for the sake of the story pls pretend it's 01 </3 | bookshelf

The atmosphere in the arena is electric, buzzing with excitement and anticipation. Tonight, Decelis Academy of Excellion is facing off against their long-time rivals, NCT Dream from the Neo Culture Institute of Technology. This isn’t just any game; it’s the championship finals, a battle that both teams have been gearing up for all season. The stakes couldn’t be higher, and the entire university has turned out to show their support.

You sit among the packed bleachers, the air thick with school spirit as students wave banners and shout team chants. It’s a sea of blue and white, the colours of Decelis Academy, and you can feel the pride radiating from every corner of the gym. As the clock ticks down to game time, the anticipation grows, every heartbeat syncing with the excited chatter around you.

Down on the court, Heeseung, the captain of your university's basketball team, Enhypen, is warming up. He’s the embodiment of focus and determination, his eyes scanning the court while he practises his shots. You can’t help but admire him — the way he commands the game, the way he leads his teammates with both skill and charisma. But tonight is different; it’s not just a regular match. This is a culmination of years of rivalry, and the pressure is palpable.

As the lights dim and the spotlight shines down, the announcer’s voice booms through the gym, introducing the teams. The crowd erupts in cheers as Heeseung and his teammates take the court, and you can see the camaraderie among them, the bond forged through countless hours of practice and shared goals.

You pull Heeseung's oversized varsity jacket tighter around yourself, the warmth and scent of his cologne comforting. It’s your way of feeling connected to him, even as he prepares to lead his team into battle against NCT Dream. You watch him with pride, knowing that this game is more than just a championship; it’s a chance to establish Decelis Academy as the reigning champion over their rivals.

As the game unfolds, the tension builds with every point scored. Heeseung’s skill is undeniable; he moves fluidly, orchestrating plays and rallying his teammates. The score is neck and neck, and with each possession, you can feel your heart racing alongside the crowd.

With only two minutes left in the game, the score is tied, and the tension is at its peak. You can’t help but bite your lip, every second feeling like an eternity. Suddenly, Heeseung catches your eye. You can tell he’s feeling the pressure, but then, as he glances your way again, he does something unexpected.

He taps his chest twice, subtly, then points at you. You don’t realise what he’s doing at first, but then he mouths something, clear even from across the court: “This one’s for you.” 

Your breath catches. Before you can process it, Heeseung is back in motion, his body moving like it’s running on pure instinct. Flashes of memories flood his mind, reminding him why he fights so hard for this victory.

He remembers those late night practices, standing alone on the court as the gym echoed with the sound of his dribbling. Suddenly, he hears a familiar voice. “Come on, Hee! Just one more shot!” It’s you, sitting on the bleachers with a smile that lights up the dark gym. You’ve been there every night, keeping him company and offering encouragement even when he’s exhausted.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs, shaking his head, and with renewed determination, he sinks the next shot effortlessly. Your applause echoes in his mind, pushing him forward.

The day before the championship, Heeseung had been a bundle of nerves, pacing in his room. You sat next to him, holding his hands and looking him in the eye. “You’ve worked so hard for this. Just remember, win or lose, I’m proud of you, Heeseung.” you said softly.

His heart swelled at your words, grounding him in the moment. “Thanks, babe. I’ll make you proud,” he promised, and in that instant, he believed he could conquer anything.

He remembers a time when he had been feeling down after a particularly tough loss. You surprised him with his favourite snacks, setting up a little picnic on the bleachers. “You know what? You’re still my number 1, no matter what. That’s your jersey number for a reason, Hee.” you said, your eyes sparkling with warmth.

“Really?” he asked, his heart lifting at your words.

“Absolutely! And besides, I’m always here to support you,” you assured him, and he couldn’t help but smile at how lucky he was.

Then there was that one practice where he felt like he just couldn’t hit a shot. Frustrated, he threw the ball down, running a hand through his hair. You stepped in close, your expression sympathetic. “Hey, even the best have off days. Remember when you taught me to shoot? I thought I’d never get it!” You demonstrated a dramatic air ball, making him burst into laughter.

“You’re right,” he admitted, a smile creeping back, “But you eventually got it, didn’t you?”

“Exactly! And you’ll find your rhythm again. Just give it time,” you encouraged, and he felt the weight lift off his shoulders, renewed with confidence.

During practice, you had always cheered from the sidelines, celebrating even the smallest victories. “Yes! That’s it, Hee! You’re on fire!” The way you looked at him, full of pride ignited something else inside him. He wants to replicate that joy on the court tonight, not just for himself but for you.

The memory fades, and he focuses back on the court. The countdown begins, and he recalls your unwavering support, how you’ve always been his anchor.

On the court, players from both teams are moving in a flurry of motion. Heeseung calls out to his teammates, his voice cutting through the noise. “Jake, move to the left! Sunghoon, set the pick!”

“Got it!” Jake replies, darting into position while Sunghoon takes his place, ready to block an incoming defender.

The crowd roars as Heeseung manoeuvres through the opposing players, sweat beading on his forehead. He catches a glimpse of you in the stands, your eyes locked on him, radiating support. That glance fuels his determination even more.

“Stay focused!” Jungwon shouts from the perimeter, eyes scanning the court. “We need to take control of this game! Make every second count!”

“Let’s go, Decelis!” the crowd chants, the rhythmic clapping reverberating through the arena.

As the game continues, Dream counters aggressively. A tall defender lunges at Heeseung, trying to steal the ball. “You think you can get past me, Captain?” Jisung taunts, grinning.

Heeseung smirks back. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, Park!”

He swiftly dribbles around him, passing the ball to Jay, who quickly takes a shot from the three-point line. The ball sails through the air, but the tension rises as it bounces off the rim.

“Get the rebound!” Heeseung yells, sprinting toward the basket.

Riki is there, leaping high to grab the ball before it falls. “I got it!” he shouts, landing solidly and passing it back to Heeseung, who is now at the three-point arc.

“Take it, Hee!” Sunoo calls, eyes wide with anticipation.

With the clock ticking down, Heeseung feels the pressure mounting. He glances at the scoreboard, then back at you. He taps his chest twice and points at you, mouthing the words “This one’s for you.”, dedicating the victory shot to you. He breathes deeply and launches the ball just as the buzzer sounds, the world around him fading to silence.

The ball arcs through the air, time slowing as it nears the hoop. Heeseung holds his breath, and for a moment, the entire gym is silent, every eye glued to the ball.

“C’mon, c’mon!” Jake whispers, his hands clenched.

Suddenly, the ball swishes through the net, and the arena erupts into a symphony of cheers. Heeseung pumps his fist in the air, a triumphant smile breaking across his face as his teammates rush to celebrate with him.

“Let’s go! We did it!” Jungwon shouts, engulfing Heeseung in a hug.

“That was the cleanest shot ever!” Riki exclaims, high fiving him.

“I told you he’d make it!” Sunghoon laughs, slapping Heeseung on the back.

As the crowd continues to roar, Heeseung looks over to the stands, where you're beaming with pride. The moment feels surreal; he knows this victory is as much yours as it is his. You leap from your seat, your heart racing as you push through the flood of fans and teammates, your eyes locked on Heeseung.

“HEESEUNG!!” you shout, your voice nearly drowned out by the roar of the crowd. Adrenaline fueled your every step as you sprinted towards him.

In an instant, you’re in his arms, jumping into him as he catches you effortlessly. The world around you fades as you both laugh, your heart soaring with pride and love. He spins you around, and as blue and white confetti begins to rain down from above, it feels like a scene from a fairytale.

“I can’t believe you did it!” you exclaim, breathless and beaming.

“Thank you for believing in me,” Heeseung replies, his voice warm and sincere. “I couldn’t have done it without you, babe.”

With a quick glance around, he pulls you in closer, leaning down to capture your lips in a victorious kiss. The moment is electric, the soft flutter of confetti swirling around you adding to the magic. It drifts through the air like tiny stars, each flake catching the light and highlighting the joy of the moment.

“Get a room, you two!” Jake shouts playfully, laughing as he joins the cheering crowd.

“Captain’s got a new strategy – distract the opponent with romance!” Sunghoon jokes, earning a chorus of laughter from the team.

As the teasing continues, Heeseung pulls back slightly, still holding you tight, his forehead resting against yours. The blue and white confetti dances around you, settling on your hair and shoulders, but all you can focus on is the warmth in his eyes.

“Let’s celebrate together,” he says, eyes sparkling with happiness. The energy of the crowd only amplifies the warmth between you, solidifying this victory as one you’ll both cherish forever. 

© cerisesheaven — please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, copy, or alter any of my works. thank you angel!

[iridecsense]

his brother’s keeper - m. 

 ⤷ summary: after yet again pining for his brother’s girl, newt finds himself stuck between his brother and the woman he is in love with...quite literally.

𓇬 word count: 8.0k 𓇬 pairing: theseus scamander | fem!reader | newt scamander 𓇬 genre: smut, porn with a little plot  𓇬 rating: 18+ 𓇬 warnings: profanity, depictions of spiked drinks 𓇬 kinks: voyeur, cuckholding, breeding, creampie, menage et toi, oral (fem recieving), anal mdom/femsub/msub 𓇬 author’s note: Something you can think of as a sequel to rumors, or a stand alone one shot. I will definitely not see the pearly gates after this, I am so sorry in advance! I may be a bit rusty so please be gentle and accept this late Christmas gift as a New Years surprise. Expect more from me soon. ;)

     It was usually in conditions like these, when the streets of London were slick with cool wet, and the biting cold spread mist from hot mouths filled the air, that made a time meant for cheer and love, one of desolate solitude for those less fortunate. Whatever the circumstances may be, it is in these times Newt Scamander often found himself alone. Though, if you were to ask him yourself he would deny the accusation and snarkily ask if one could ever be truly alone when surrounded by magnificent creatures. Despite the best efforts of his brother, who cared for him most earnestly, Newt hadn’t spent the holidays with him in years. 

      He had his reasons to be sure. Back when Theseus was engaged with his childhood friend Leta, there was no doubt an awkwardness. The younger Scamander brother was in love with the Lestrange girl. To see his brother have what he had longed for since he first met her put a strain on his heart. Newt was not bold in any sense of the word. Being forward with a woman never came easy to him. When he’d lost the chance to win Leta’s heart he swore that when he found himself enamored by another woman he would make it clear to her his affections.     In came Tina Goldstein, an American auror who he found himself entangled with on a trip overseas. He felt something for her—a kind of attraction that was different from the one he felt for Leta, but an attraction nonetheless. Tina was tall and beautiful and treated him with more respect than anyone ever had. But even that effort fell short. Tina had become more dedicated to her work and her sister. There was no room for him in her life at the moment. The two drifted apart succeeding the events of Grindelwald's rally in Paris. He returned to London, and she to her own affairs.     That had been nearly three years ago. Newt did well on his own, he felt. His creatures keep him busy enough. Getting through the day was easy. The nights were the hardest. At night there wasn't anything busying his mind from thinking of you.     Newt started to believe he was cursed to always fall in love with women he couldn't have. Whoever it was must have been especially cruel to make him fall for his brother’s girlfriends. That could be the only explanation. Otherwise,  he was just a sick, perverted man who desperately needed therapy. Little did he know two things can be true.    It wasn’t as though it were intentional. When it came to Leta, he had loved her first. Theseus just happened to get her. You, however, was something he did not expect. He was acquainted with you, only knowing and conversing with you when Leta was involved, considering you were her friend. It wasn't until she died that he got to know you better. During that time, Newt stayed with his brother and swore to stay by his side and help him and the ministry in capturing Grindelwald. Theseus grieved, and Newt was there to care for him, and so were you.     You would come by with food and insist on helping clean the apartment. The gesture was kind, especially when you were going through your own grief. Newt wondered if you used your kindness and instinct to help others as a way to distract yourself from the pain you truly felt. He was able to prove his theory right after many nights alone, drinking gin and fire whiskey, when he got to know you more intimately.     Theseus never knew, but in those first few months he spent grieving, Newt had grown rather fond of you. You were funny, kind, a great cook, and you listened to him, something no one else really did. The day he discovered your relationship with his brother he was disappointed, to say the least. Once again, Theseus had managed to take someone else he cared about. Newt often wondered how different things would have been if he had kissed you that night as you so desperately wanted him to. The same night when you had drank one too many gin and tonics and found the Scamander family album hidden in Theseus’s bookshelf. That night you somehow wound up on top of his lap, flipping through embarrassing baby pictures and evidence of his pubescent awkwardness. You were too drunk to notice how tense he was underneath you, or how with every shift of movement, or every laugh you chuckled, your ass pressed against his crotch.     When you came across a picture of Newt his mother had taken of him on the first day working at the Ministry when he was sixteen, you gushed over how ‘adorable’ he looked. Newt blushed. Then you said something he didn't expect.     “I see what Leta meant. You were always cute.”     Newt didn't know what to say. You positioned your head on his shoulder to look up at him. Newt was never good at eye contact, but he found it hard to tear his eyes away from yours.     “You have pretty eyes,” you slurred suddenly with a smile stretched across your lips. He could smell the alcohol on your breath your faces were so close.     “So do you,” he said, surprising himself with his own brazenness. It was true. You had two pretty (e/c) eyes like none he’d ever seen, even when they fluttered and stared blankly up at him in an intoxicated daze. But it was only with the help of the three glasses of gin he had earlier that helped him say it aloud.     Your smile grew wider. Your hand went to cup his left cheek. “I never understood Leta,” you mumbled. “How could anyone look past you?”     He’d wanted it so bad. To feel your lips against his would be his greatest reward after all he’d been through, after all his shortcomings. If he were a lesser man he would have taken advantage of your drunkenness. But you could barely sit up on your own, and he couldn’t tell how long it would be before you lost consciousness and fell asleep on the couch as you had done several times before.     “Kiss me, Newt,” you asked. “Please.” It was the first sentence you hadn't slurred since the gin entered your bloodstream. In a moment of weakness, his hand caressed your cheek. His thumb swiped over your bottom lip and he heard your breath hitch in your throat.     You were so beautiful and there you were, begging him to kiss you. Begging for something more by the way you pressed your body into him and looked desperately at his lips through half-lidded eyes. And maybe if he had four gin and tonics instead of three he would have given you what you wanted. But he was more sober than you and he respected you far too much to take advantage of you in your current state. What he had to do afterward took all his restraint.     The next day you greeted him in the kitchen with the same kind smile you always gave him as you prepared breakfast. The matter was never brought up again and Newt assumed you simply didn't remember. He saw no point in bringing it up himself. Before he knew it, it was too late. Theseus had set his eyes on you and wasted no time claiming you as his. Newt could not touch you, no matter how badly he wanted to.     And so, once again, Newt found himself in love with his brother’s girl. Constantly keeping her on his mind, constantly yearning for her, but always stepping back. He was still close to you, which only made it harder.     For the past year, he’s kept the secret of that night. But that wouldn't stop him from thinking of it, and all that could have been, just as he was doing now, lying in his bed with his hand wrapped around his cock. If only he could have you with him now and feel your skin on his, taste the salt of your sweat, and feel the heat of your body. He could only imagine. But even in his imagination he was the happiest man on earth. Theseus must have felt like God.     Unbeknownst to him, he would get a taste of that feeling the very next day. In the morning when he woke up, he found an owl waiting for him with a letter. It was an invitation, from you no less, to join you and Theseus for a Christmas dinner later that evening. In truth, Newt had been so busy tending to his creatures the past week he had forgotten how close Christmas was approaching, let alone that it was Christmas Day.     The thought of spending an evening with you was enticing. It was Theseus’s presence that made him second guess. He loved his brother, that was no question. He probably loved his brother more than anyone else in the world, which is why he could sit silently as he continuously watched him have everything he ever wanted with no protest. That didn't mean it was easy. It was hard to see you with him, even harder than when he had to endure Leta with him. At least then he had Tina as a distraction. Now there was only you and he could see no one else better than you.     Had it been Theseus who sent the letter he wouldn't have agreed to stop by. He might not have even replied. But since it was you, and only because it was you, he sent an owl confirming his arrival.     On the other side of things, you were ecstatic. It had been some time since you'd seen Newt and you considered him one of your closest friends. You knew Theseus would love having his little brother visit for Christmas and felt it would be the perfect present for him.     You had told Newt to come a couple of hours earlier than when you would be expecting Theseus. When you opened the door you greeted him with a bright, toothy smile and open arms. Newt hugged you back awkwardly and stepped inside.     “Everything is cooking in the oven now,” you said. “I’m just finishing up the pie for dessert. Come, have a drink in the kitchen.”     Newt followed behind you. You looked adorable in the tacky red and green Christmas sweater you wore over your long white dress. You made him a drink and started on your creme pie.     “It’s so good to see you, Newt,” you told him. “I was afraid you couldn’t make it. I know how busy your creatures keep you.”     “It’s good to see you too,” he replied. “Bunty insisted she stay and help while I am away. She claimed she had no other plans.”     You pouted your lips. “That’s awful!” You said. “You should have told me! I would have gladly invited Bunty over if I knew. No one should be alone on Christmas.”     Newt smiled softly. There you go again, always thinking of others. As the two of you sat in the kitchen you caught each other up on your lives. Things were going great for you, Newt discovered. You had recently gotten a promotion and received a medal for your efforts spying abroad for your department and gathering intel on Grindelwald and his acolytes.    Newt told you about his own travels abroad, searching for and rescuing creatures whenever he could while doing his own work for Dumbledore to support the cause. He told you stories of the places he’d been and the creatures he’d seen, even promising to let you visit his home to see them for yourself. “They’d love you,” he said.     Before he knew it, the two of you were sharing a glass of wine on the couch while the food kept warm. Then you shared another, and another, and another while you both waited for Theseus to return.     “He works later these days,” you tell Newt. “There’ve been days where he doesn't come home at all. Just stays up there, drooling over papers in his office. I worry about him sometimes.”     “That’s my brother,” he says. “Always working harder than anyone else. Always having something to prove. In some ways I’m jealous.”     You chuckled. “Jealous? How so?”     “He’s always so,” Newt paused, searching his brain for the right word. “Dedicated. Determined. He sets his mind on something and won't stop until he does it. He’s always been like that.”     You turned to face him next to you on the couch, sitting on your legs and propping your elbow on the back of the couch to lean your head against your hand. You peer at him quizzically. “But you’re like that too.”     Newt scoffed. “No I’m not,” he chuckled as he took a sip of his wine.     “Yes, you are!” You insist. “You’re very determined and dedicated to your animals. You have done things many others are too afraid to do; all to protect the things you love. Even Theseus admits you are much better suited to be an auror than he is.”     Newt raised a curious brow, a coy smile on his face. “Really?”     You nod. “He’s very amazed by you—admires you, even. As do I. You’re very brave, Newt. No one is more determined or dedicated than you.”     “There is one person,” Newt muttered.      “Who?” You asked, genuinely curious about his answer, prepared to playfully berate him for his humbleness.     “Theseus.”     “Well, he doesn't seem to think so,” you say.     “But he is,” Newt quipped, whipping his head to look you in the eye. The energy in the room shifted, and though both your brains were fuzzy from wine, you could tell the moment had gone from playful to serious.     “He is,” he continued. “He wanted to become head boy and he did. He strived to be the best auror at the ministry and he is. He wanted Leta and he got her, and when he wanted you, he got you.”     You were silent as you listened, unsure of where exactly Newt was going with his ramblings.     “I could never do that,” he admitted. “If I could, you would be with me now, not him.”     Now it was the wine talking. You were surprised. Newt’s face was red, but at this point, it wasn't clear if it was because he was embarrassed, frustrated, or tipsy.     “What do you mean, Newt?” You asked, your voice soft and sweet. His expression softened, and he looked at you in such a way your heart fluttered in your chest.     “You are so beautiful,” he proclaimed, making your face burn hotter than it already was. “I should have told you that a long time ago. If I were as forthright as Theseus I would have told you I loved you the night we almost kissed a year ago on this couch.”     Newt chuckled at your stunned expression, unable to say a word. “You don’t remember, but you were beautiful then too. You sat right here in my lap and you held my face in your hand and begged me to kiss you. I would have if you weren’t intoxicated. I wanted to talk to you about it the next day but you had already forgotten—”     “I didn't forget,” you spoke finally. Now it was Newt’s turn to be surprised.     “What?”     You put your wine glass down on the coffee table and scooted closer to Newt on the couch. Your knees touched his thigh, but neither of you moved.     “I didn't forget,” you repeat, clearer this time. “We were drinking while Theseus was asleep in his room one night. I had found your family album and we looked at it together when I asked you to kiss me.”     Newt frowned. “If you remember then why didn't you say anything?”     “I was embarrassed,” you reveal. “When you didn't kiss me I thought that I made a fool of myself. That you rejected me. When you didn't say anything afterwards I figured that was it. That you just wanted to forget and stay as friends.”     Newt couldn't believe his ears. All this time you had remembered that night and thought he held no feelings for you. He was spiraling in his head, you could tell by the way he distantly stared into his glass of wine.     “Newt?” You called out to him, taking his glass and replacing it with your hand.     “This is what I mean,” he said finally. “I wasn't determined. If I were like Theseus I would have talked to you regardless of whether or not I thought you remembered. I would have told you how wonderful it felt holding you in my arms and how desperately I wanted to press my lips against yours and taste you on my tongue. I would have told you how much I love you.”     Your stomach turned excitedly at Newt’s words. You squeezed his hand tightly. “Newt...”     He stopped, realizing what he just said. “I...I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I don’t know why I’m saying these things.”     “That would be the veritaserum in the wine,” said a deep voice behind him.     Newt turned around and found his brother, Theseus, standing under the archway to the foyer.     “Theseus,” He stammered and quickly stood to his feet.     “No need to get up, brother,” he said calmly. “It wasn’t as if I didn’t know.”     On the couch, you held up the wine bottle and inspected it. “How did veritaserum get into the wine?”     “I drugged it,” Theseus said simply as he walked past Newt and took a seat across from the couch in an armchair.     “Why the hell would you do that?” You asked Theseus angrily.     “Because this morning you said Newt accepted your invitation to dinner. Because I knew the real reason why Newt hasn't visited me in months is that he feels guilty for loving you knowing you’re with me,” he explained. “And I didn't want to have a Christmas dinner with a brother who resents me and sulks across the table pining for you. So, I put veritaserum in the wine I knew you wanted to drink tonight and left the two of you alone, hoping my baby brother would finally confess his feelings. And he did! Now we all know.”     You shot up from your seat and glared at Theseus. “This is cruel Theseus. You had no right!”     “I will admit it was slightly unethical, but I don’t see the harm in it. Aren’t you glad that Newt confessed his feelings?”     “Yes,” you answered instantly, though, of course, not of your own free will.     Theseus then turned to Newt. “And don't you feel better having finally told her?”     “Yes,” Newt admitted.    Theseus smiled. “Good! Now everything’s better.”     “You aren't upset?” Asked Newt.     Theseus looked at him as though he were confused. “Why would I be upset?”     “You’re not upset that I’m in love with your girlfriend?”     Theseus pursed his lips in thought before shifting his eyes to the half-empty bottle of wine. Standing to his feet, he walked towards the coffee table and grabbed the bottle by the neck. He took a swing of the truth-spiked wine and put it back down.     “Why don’t you ask me again.” He said.     “You’re not upset that I love y/n?” Newt once again asked.     Theseus smiled almost tenderly at his brother. “No.”     The older brother walked back to his chair and sat down, leaving you and Newt stupefied. “I do, however, wonder how you feel, darling.” He said, now turning his attention to you.     You furrowed your brows. “Me?”     “Do you love Newt back?” Asked Theseus.     Newt’s eyes fell on you. Your mouth opened and took a breath in preparation of your answer, but it closed as soon as it happened. Your glare on Theseus sharpened.     “What are you playing at, Theseus?”     “Don’t try fighting it,” he said. “You won't be able to lie so just answer. Do you love him?”     Your eyes flickered over and connected with Newt’s, who was looking at you expectingly. Your eyes softened and the tenseness in your shoulders fell away.     “Yes,” you whispered.     Newt couldn't believe his ears. Everything happening at this moment felt surreal. Just a few minutes ago he thought he had embarrassed himself once again, having confessed his feelings to his brother’s girlfriend right in front of him. He was prepared to be punched and thrown out and for his brother to hate him for the rest of his life. But instead of being angry, Theseus was encouraging him. He encouraged you and finally, he got to hear you say words he’d only dreamt of you saying. You loved him. Oddly enough, despite how it came about, Newt couldn't be happier.     “Kiss her.”     Newt was pulled from his thoughts and his shared gaze with you. You both turned and looked at Theseus who sat cooly in the armchair.     “Didn’t you hear what she said?” He asked. “She loves you! Stop standing there like an idiot and kiss her!”     “Theseus—” you began to speak, but Theseus stopped you.     “It’s okay, love,” he assured you with his gentlest voice. “Let him kiss you.”     The energy in the room for the second time that night, all because of Theseus, who ironically was the calmest person in the room. But there was something about the aura permeating from him that domineered over everyone else. His gaze burned into them as he stared, waiting for Newt to do as he commanded.     Every part of him wanted to turn around and walk out the front door and never speak of this again. He would go home and lay in his bed and do his best to fall asleep and forget everything that happened here tonight. Every part except the one that wanted to turn to his side, take you in his arms, and kiss you the way he should have that night. It was that part of him that won over all his better judgments.    In an instant, Newt’s lips were on yours. He held your face in his hands and pressed his body flat against yours. You were taken aback. You’d even yelped when his lips first touched yours. It was a while before your body finally relaxed and you closed your eyes, leaning into the kiss. Your lips began to move with his and he felt your hands lightly grip the sides of his waist, still unsure.     Theseus leaned back in his chair and said nothing as he watched. Newt’s tongue darted from between his lips and licked a stripe over your own. Your mouth opened for him willingly and he wasted no time exploring your mouth. He moaned at the taste of you. The feeling of your tongue swirling around his made his cock twitch in his pants. You could feel it against your thigh and your breath hitched in your throat.     “Don’t stop,” ordered Theseus with his hand over his pants, palming at the growing hardness straining against the fabric.    Newt kept his mouth on yours, only moving his grip around your face down to your hips. Your hands fisted the fabric of his shirt and you pressed your body into him, yearning to be closer. Newt stumbled back until the backs of his legs hit the couch and he broke away from the kiss to sit down. He spread his legs outwards and pulled you down onto his lap. You straddled his waist and his hips bucked upwards, longing to connect. A soft moan fell from your lips and he swore hadn't heard a more beautiful sound. Soon lips were back on yours.     “Tell her how pretty she is, Newt,” Theseus instructed.     Newt pulled from your feverish kiss and pushed your hair from around your face. “You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he said. You looked down at him through half-lidded eyes dilated with lust. Your lips twitched into a smile as you began salaciously grinding your hips against him, feeling the bulge of his dick against your slick heat. Newt hissed and watched you from below, moving his hips along with you, admiring your form hovering above him as you pulled your sweater over your head and threw it on the floor.     “Show him just how beautiful you are, sweetheart,” Theseus commanded. His voice was low and husky. He watched the two of you closely, palming his own arousal.     It was of no concern to the two of you, however. Newt was so encompassed by you he could barely pay any mind to his brother watching across the room. Of course, there were thoughts screaming in the back of his head telling him how fucked this whole situation was, but they were nothing more than muted whispers compared to you rubbing against his cock.     Just as Theseus commanded you showed Newt how beautiful you were when you took a hand and pulled down one of the straps to your white dress and freed your arm, repeating the same to the other. Taking his hands from your waist you brought them to your chest and helped him pull your dress down around your waist, revealing your breasts.     You felt Newt’s cock jump at the sight of you. He could only stare slack-jawed as you placed his hands over your beasts and guided him in pressing them against each other in a continuous circular motion while you rubbed your clothed clit against him. Your soft pants filled his ears as his low grunts filled yours.     “Newt...” His name fell breathlessly from your lips.     He had pumped his cock to the thought of you moaning his name many times before, but it barely held a candle to what it felt like to hear the real thing. Your name fell from his lips just as easily and he once again captured your lips in a heated kiss while he massaged your breasts.     Across the room, Theseus had his hand wrapped around his cock, slowly sliding it up and down as he watched his girlfriend shamelessly hump his little brother. You were the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. The way your hips moved against Newt could rival even the best of strippers. Your pretty moans filled his ears and he couldn’t help but reminisce about the many times he'd made those same sounds come out of you. To hear it in person is a gift. To feel your lips was a blessing. To feel your tight cunt wrapped around his cock was the best thing a man could ever feel. There is no greater present than fucking you, and Newt didn’t even realize that Theseus had just given his brother the best Christmas gift a man could ask for.     “Tell her what you’re thinking, Newt,” Theseus breathed.     Newt licked his lips. He did his best to gather his thoughts which were wall focused on you.     “Go on,” you said through shaky breaths. “Tell me.”     Newt moaned and pressed a trail of kisses on your bare shoulder and neck. “I’m thinking about how amazing you are,” he grunted out. “I’m thinking about how long I’ve wanted you and how good it feels to finally have you.”      You loved hearing Newt praise you. You loved the feeling of his hands and lips on your hot skin.  “Keep going,” you urged, moving your hands up his chest to unbutton his shirt.     “I think you’re perfect. I think that Theseus doesn't realize how lucky he is to have you,” he said boldly, piquing both your and Theseus’s interest. “You should have been mine. I would take good care of you—f-fuck!”     You had reached the top of his pants and unbuckled his belt, unbuttoning his pants and pulling out his hardened length. He wasn’t bigger than Theseus, but he certainly was thicker. Your hand slid up and down his shaft, only stopping to collect the precum leaking from his tip on your finger to put them in your mouth. He watched in awe as you licked and sucked your fingers clean.     “God, I want you,” he growled in your ear as your hand reached for his cock. “I want to be inside you. I want to feel you,” he said through labored breaths.     “Give him what he wants, love” Theseus spoke up. “Let him feel you.”      You sat up on your knees and hovered over his hips. Pulling your panties to the side with one hand you used the other to guide Newt’s member to your center. Both your breaths caught in your throats when he entered, stretching you open with his thick cock. Feeling you around him was unlike anything he could ever dream or hope. You were slick with arousal and he easily slid in and out of you, filling you up in all the right places. Your moans filled the room as Newt sucked on the supple skin of your neck. His hands and fingernails dug into your soft skin as he held you close and it felt as though the two of you were the only ones in the room.     Newt’s name sweetly slipped past your lips. Yours flittered through the air from his own. His hips rolled into yours with a precision you had no idea he was capable of. If he’d allowed it, the two of you would have lost yourselves in each other, forgetting the third presence in the room. But that wasn't going to happen.     Standing from his seat, Theses moved towards the couple and took a seat next to them on the couch, his hand still wrapped around his dick. “Does it feel good, my love?” He asked you.     “Yes,” you breathed.     “Does my little brother make you feel good? Do you love the way his cock stretches your tight little hole?”     You moaned at his dirty words, lulling your head back as Newt's lips wrapped around your nipple. “Y-yes,” you stammered, your hips rocking faster against Newts. “I love it. I love the way he feels inside me.”     “I know you do,” Theseus hummed, his breaths hastening. “You want him to make you cum don’t you, baby?”     You nodded excitedly and Theseus smirked.     “Newt, help her cum,” he said. “She likes it when you speak to her. It turns her on hearing all the dirty things you’re going to do to her.”     “Is that true?” Newt asked you once he pulled his lips from your pert nipples. “You want to hear all the things I want to do to you? Like how I’m gonna fuck your sweet cunt until you’re shaking a quivering under me? How...How I’m gonna fill you up so full with my cum you’ll end up with twins!”     He and Theseus laughed.     “See,” Theseus chuckled as he lifted the fabric of your skirt to reveal the sight of Newt’s cock pumping in and out of you. “She likes it! Look, she’s so wet your cock is soaked!”     Newt looked down and marveled at how wet you were. You took him so well and his cock disappeared inside you with ease. Newt held the skirts of your dress up so he could watch—so they could both watch.     Theseus’s hand rubbed the inside of your thigh. “Do you want me to touch you too, baby?” He asked politely.     You opened your eyes to look at your handsome boyfriend. He had long since undone his tie and unbuttoned his own shirt. His large cock was being tugged by his right hand and you nearly drooled at the sight of it, suddenly missing the feeling of having it shoved down your throat. You loved it when Theseus touched you. His hands were always precise, knowing exactly where to pinch, caress, and stroke. Like how he was rubbing your thigh right now, knowing how sensitive the skin on that area was for you. Your eyes connected and you ached seeing how dark his once baby-blue eyes had become.     “Yes,” you nodded.     Theseus wasted no time pressing his fingers on your aching clit. He rubbed your most sensitive part while his hand teased his own cock. Between his fingers and Newt’s dick plunging deep inside you, your body buzzed with pleasure. The air in the room grew hot and sticky and a symphony of soft moans, grunts, and pants melded with the sound of skin slapping against skin and the slick wetness of your dripping cunt. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening and your eyes shut, desperately chasing that feeling.     “Are you close, darling?” Newt asked once he felt you tighten around him.     “Y-yes!”     Theseus’s fingers rubbed faster to help you get there. “Watch her, Newt,” he urged. “When she comes, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ll ever see.”     Newts darkened hazel eyes trained on you. His grip around the dress wrapped around your waist tightened and her wrapped it around his arm and held your hips steady. His hips snapped upwards, changing pace. You bounced on his cock, your moans growing louder and louder.     “Cum for me, please,” Newt begged, now reaching his own release. “Let me see it. I want to see it. Show me, my love. Show me how beautiful you are when you cum. Please show me.”     He pressed open-mouthed kisses on your chest and neck, his eyes never leaving your face. Theseus’s breaths quickened as well, his pace on his cock matching the pace of your hips rising and sinking on Newt’s member. One of your hands wrapped around the base of Newt’s neck, taking a fist full of his hair. The other grabbed Theseus’s wrist and held his hand in place over your clit. A few more pumps and several flicks was all it took for your body to seize up, tightening around Newt's cock as your whole body trembled. Your moans caught in your throat, struggling to escape. The knot inside your stomach had broke and you came harder than you ever had in your life.     Newt came not long after you, sputtering your name as he did so and holding your hips down, burying his dick deeper inside you and making sure every drop of his cum spilled inside. “F-fuck,” he choked out.     Theseus had cum too, clear, white ribbons of his seed spilled into his hand and onto his abs. He wiped up what had spilled with two fingers and held it up to your lips. You were still dizzy from your orgasm, but it didn't stop you from obediently opening your mouth to suck Theseus’s cum from his fingers. Newt watched as you did this. Your skilled tongue licked and wrapped around Theseus’s long fingers promiscuously, ensuring you cleaned up every last drop.  It was enough to get him hard and twitching inside you again.     “That’s a good girl,” praised Theseus with a smile on his lips. “Isn’t she a good girl, Newt?”     “The best,” Newt agreed.     Theseus pulled his fingers from your mouth and replaced them with his tongue by reaching up and pulling you into a deep kiss. It was slow and purposeful, as if he were trying to show off in front of Newt who had no choice but to watch uncomfortably as your tongues swirled passionately in each other’s mouths, earning your soft whimpers. Inside, he hated how much it turned him on.     As you both pulled away, you captured Theseus’s bottom lip between your teeth and playfully tugged it away before letting go. Theseus’s hand quickly flew to tightly wrap around your neck, keeping your eyes trained on him. He smirked. “Look at you, darling. Still asking for more. Aren't you tired?”     Your hand reached down to grip his cock as an answer, making him laugh. His grip around your neck tightened.     “What? Was my brother’s cock not enough for you? You need to have mine as well? Or perhaps you want us both at the same time. Is that it? You need me and my brother to fuck you senseless like the greedy little cock whore you are?”     You clenched at the thought of having both Scamander brothers filling you up at once. Newt felt it and your increasing arousal started to drip down his balls.     “I think she does,” said Newt. “Will that satisfy you, my love? If Theseus and I fucked you within an inch of your life and pumped your selfish cunt full of cum? Tell us you want it.”     You’d never seen this side of Newt. You didn't even think he was capable of saying such filthy things. He was always so sweet and temperate, being shyer than demiguise. But here he was, spurring you on with his debaucherous words. It only made you want him more.     “I want it,” you say and salaciously grind your hips into Newt, making him hiss due to how sensitive he still was.     “Beg,” Theseus demanded. “Tell us how badly you want it.”     Your cheeks burned red hot from embarrassment. Theseus smirked mischievously because he loved watching you squirm. You always begged so nicely for him with your pouty lips and round doe eyes. His little princess. He only wanted Newt to see and appreciate it too.     “Please,” you begged shamelessly. “I want to feel you both inside me. I need to feel it. I want it so bad. I want to make you both feel good.”    “You want to make us feel good?” Theseus repeated. “Such a sweet little girl you are, wanting to please us. But we all know your secret.”     Theseus turned to Newt. “Should we give her what she wants?” He asked.     Newt looked up at your pleading eyes, so sweet and innocent despite them begging for him to fuck you. How could he ever deny you?     “Yes,” he said finally. With that, Theseus picked you up with ease and carried you upstairs to the bedroom. Newt followed behind and once Theseus placed you on the bed he began fully stripping himself of his clothes. Newt followed his brother’s actions, closing the door behind him and peeling off his shirt and pants. You watched them under the candlelight, admiring the two beautiful brothers and their different bodies.     You’d seen Theseus naked a hundred times before but it never ceased to excite you. He was large in every sense of the word. He was tall and had a wide, muscular chest with strong arms and thighs to match. Newt’s body was new and different. Newt was tall as well, only a couple inches shorter than his older brother. Surprisingly, Newt was more muscular and lean. His abs were more pronounced and taut in comparison. Both brothers were freckled, the younger of the two having more of them with accompanying scars. They were beautiful. Having two gorgeous men naked in front of you made you feel nervous and self-conscious. Without realizing it, you had pulled your dress up to cover your body. But Theseus was having none of that.     He crawled over to you on the bed, moving your hands and pulling your dress back down to your waist. Newt sat on the bed as well and pulled the dress down the rest of the way, discarding it on the floor. Theseus trailed kisses up your stomach, chest, neck, and face until he reached your lips. He kissed you passionately and tenderly, reaching for your right hand to intertwine his fingers with yours while Newt peppered soft kisses up your legs and thighs. Their attempt at relaxing you and distracting you from your thoughts worked, and you melded with them both.     “Theseus...” you whispered against his lips because you knew how much he liked hearing it. He shushed you, pecking the corners of your lips.     “Just relax, darling,” he muttered. His hand left yours to grab your thigh, spreading your legs apart.     Newt’s kisses lingered on your inner thigh, nipping, sucking, and biting the sensitive flesh. You trembled under their touch, not sure what to expect next. Theseus hovered over you on your right, covering you with kisses and massaging your breasts while Newt neared dangerously close to your core.     “Such a sweet girl,” Theseus said between kisses.     “I wonder if she tastes just as sweet,” said Newt.     “She does,” Theseus confirmed. “But you’ll just have to taste for yourself.”     The sudden feeling of Newt’s warm tongue licking a licentious stripe along your heat made you gasp. He kissed and sucked on your lower lips, occasionally darting his tongue in and out of your entrance. He licked up and down your dripping cunt before finally swirling his tongue around your clit. Your hips bucked and twitched as he drew figure-eights with his tongue over your sensitive bud. Theseus held your right leg while Newt held down your left, ensuring you kept your legs open for them.    “F-fuck, Newt,” you sighed and closed your eyes, resting your head back into the fluff of the pillow.     Theseus was sucking the skin at the crook of your neck, determined to leave a mark. His hand on your thigh trailed closer and closer to your center until his skilled fingers reached your entrance under Newt's chin. He easily slid his longest digit inside and curled it upwards, instantly finding that spot he knew so well. He pumped his finger in and out, making sure to brush against your g-spot. Soon he added another finger and quickened his pace. Between Newt’s assault on your clit and Theseus’s fingers deep inside you, you were ambushed by another orgasm. White flashed behind your eyes and your hips spasmed. Newt sucked on your clit and Theseus vigorously fingered your hole as you rode out your high until you became too sensitive to touch and begged them to stop.     “No, no, no, baby,” Theseus muttered in your ear. “We can’t stop now,” he said. “We haven't ‘fucked you within an inch of your life’ yet.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. They weren't done with you yet.     Newt came up from between your legs and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. “Can you taste it?” he asked. “Your sweetness. I can’t get enough of it. I don’t think I ever will.”     Your lips chased his, wanting him to kiss you deeper. You were sandwiched between the two men, Theseus at your back, and Newt before you. You felt Theseus’s cock press flush against your ass while Newt's poked between your legs.     “Are you ready for us, darling?” Theseus asked as he nibbled at your ear.     “Yes,” you answered against Newt’s lips before he slid his tongue back down your throat.     Being as gentle as they could, the two brothers eased their cocks inside of you, introducing you to a whole new sensation. You had never been stretched out like this, with two cocks filling your holes at once. It was strange and slightly uncomfortable at first. They knew this, which is why they took their time, distracting you with their mouths and whispering sweet nothings in your ear, and ensuring you were okay.     “You’re doing so well,” they’d say.     “You feel so good.”     “You’re so wonderful, darling.”     “Are we hurting you, sweetheart?”     “Relax for us, my love.”     Theseus’s hand once again found your clit and he began lightly circling it with his fingers to give you some relief. It didn't take long for it to work and your body opened up for them with ease. They pushed deeper inside, inch by inch until they were fully sheathed in your flesh. They both whispered their own set of curses, letting out soft grunts and moans as they began slowly rocking their hips into you.     “Fuuuck,” Theseus moaned. “This ass is so fucking tight. You’re being so good for us, darling.”     “So, so good, love,” panted Newt. “You make us feel so good.”     Your high-pitched mewls and pretty sighs were like music to their ears. They completely engulfed you, body and soul. The world simply slipped away and nothing else mattered besides them, Theseus and Newt, making you feel better than you had ever felt before. You couldn't get enough of them, nor could they get enough of you. You were intoxicated by their scent, their bodies, and their moans. In your minds, you all tried to comprehend how lucky you all were to be in this moment. Nothing could be better than this. Nothing.     “This is it, isn't it?” Theseus panted in your ear. “Your secret. You’ve always wanted this. To have your holes stretched out by our cocks. Does it excite you, my darling, fucking two brothers? One just wasn't enough, was it? You had to have both. Well, now you have it. Now you’re taking our cocks like the good little girl you are, just like you wanted because we decided to give it to you. You should thank us. Go on and thank us, darling. Tell us how much you appreciate being filled up and fucked, blinded by your own pleasure.”     “T-th...Thank you,” you choked out, tears brimming your waterline. “Thank you so much! I wanted this. I always wanted this!”     “Good girl,” Newt praised, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Such a good, good, girl for us. We’re glad to give it to you...Whatever you want, y/n. Whatever you want—a-ah!”      Newt’s thrusts got faster and sloppier, as did Theseus’s. They both worked hard to bury themselves deep inside you. It came to a point where both their cocks were brushing against your g-spot, one after the other. You felt the knot in your core again, that delicious, evanescent knot tightening, ticking like a bomb about to explode and send you to your euphoric escape.     “Oh, God!” You gasped, digging your nails into the skin of Newt’s back and Theseus’s thighs. “Don’t stop! P-please...right there! S-Shit, I love you!” You proclaimed. “Both of you. God, I love both of you so much!”     This seemed to excite them even more, something you didn't know was possible. They thrust into you faster than they ever had before, their winded breaths filling your ears.     “I love you,” Newt breathed. “So...so much...More than anything.” He kissed your lips.     “I love you too, darling,” grunted Theseus. “My sweet girl...Always.” He kissed your lips too.     In that moment the three of you bonded, body and soul. You all came at once, their bodies falling flush against you, twitching in satisfaction. For a while you just lay there as they held you and listened to the sound of their breaths while you waited for the sweet, buzzing feeling to dim. When it did, Theseus got up to fetch a towel from the bathroom, leaving you and Newt cuddled up on the bed, whispering sweetly to one another. They helped clean you up and embraced you with their warmth. You just stared at them, sharing kisses, twirling hair, giggling, holding hands, and gazing lovingly into their eyes. There wasn't much to say. You all knew. You didn’t need to say it. You could feel it in the room. You were complete.     “Do you smell something burning?” Theseus asked suddenly. You and Newt sniffed the air and your eyes widened like saucers.    “THE FUCKING TURKEY!” You gasped, and struggled your way out from between your two lovers, picking one of their shirts from off the floor to cover yourself as you ran downstairs to save what was left of your forgotten Christmas dinner.     Newt and Theseus smiled to themselves and chuckled. There was an awkward silence as they lay there alone, both unsure of what to say or do next.     “I do know how lucky I am, by the way.” Theseus was the first to speak.     “I know,” said Newt.     Theseus turned to his brother. “You can be lucky too...If you want.”     Newt blinked, not fully believing he’d heard what he thought he heard.     “She loves you,” said Theseus.     “She loves you too,” Newt reminded him.     “I know. And we both love her.”     “And we both love her.”      It was as simple as that.     “Thank you, Theseus,” said Newt.     Theseus scoffed and playfully pushed Newt’s shoulder.     “Happy Christmas, Newt.”     “Happy Christmas, Theseus.”

[theladyofbloodshed]

Chapter 34

One more chapter and an epilogue <3 (this is a sad chapter)

The field lay in ruins. Corpses – their own and Hybern’s – were spread across the muddy plain. Arrows jutted from limbs, blood and gore soaked through each court’s uniforms so they were united in a rusty red. The soldiers from Hybern who hadn’t been quick enough to winnow away were being rounded up for questioning.

Azriel would take stock of it later. Would stop and measure the magnitude of what they had done once his mate was in his own arms.

He was barely holding himself together. Feyre offering him the memory of what she saw through the Cauldron’s power had nearly broken him. Only Rhysand’s hand clamping around his upper arm to follow him where he winnowed stopped Azriel from inciting further bloodshed.

Carranam.

It was unheard of. A bond so rare – so deadly in cases – that even mates weren’t prepared to try. How had Eris known that Nesta was his Carranam?

Not his. Never his.

The Autumn Court had no tents. They’d arrived too late, already in the thick of the fighting, to prepare them. Where was Eris?

Azriel’s breathing was a wet rasp. His wings screamed in protest with every moment. There were cuts on his body that needed seeing to, some more pressing than others. He’d broken ribs, gashed open his ear. None of it mattered. Not until Nesta was with him.

‘Can’t your shadows-’

‘They are searching for her,’ he ground out before Rhys could finish.

A number of the Vanserra brothers were already winnowing away their army back to their golden oak-covered lands. If Eris had dared to take Nesta... If he thought in some way that a Carranam bond meant more than a mating bond…

‘There,’ said Rhys gently. He pointed towards a clearing by the edge of the trees where Helion stood near Eris, blocking Azriel’s view.

Azriel forced his power to rally and winnowed them both to close the gap.

‘Get your hands off of her,’ Azriel snarled.

Nesta was unconscious in Eris’ arms. The flush upon her cheeks made his stomach knot. Golden light swirled around her body from Helion’s healing gifts.

‘She has delved too deeply into her power. And another’s,’ said Helion with a knowing look to Eris. ‘She will live, but her body is exhausted.’

Rhysand’s grip on his arm hurt. His high lord dug his fingers into Azriel’s skin like blunted blades to anchor himself.

‘Put. Her. Down.’

Eris gave an easy smile, one a snake might wear. ‘Nesta and I are Carranam. She will be returning to my court where she belongs.’

A shield shot between them – the violet edges a tell-tale sign that it belonged to Rhys.

‘Nesta belongs in the Night Court,’ his high lord stated.

Eris gestured to the cut across Nesta’s palm. Many had seen their display against the king. Whether others would realise that Eris had shared his power with Nesta was another headache to be solved later. All Azriel wanted was his mate in his own arms.

Azriel said through clenched teeth, ‘Did you have to cut her palm so deeply?’

Blood still dripped from it. Eris hadn’t bothered binding it. He’d hurt her. Ran a knife across her skin.

He was practically vibrating with anger. His mate had chosen to die. Had spent a night with him, knowing she would walk into the arms of death the next day. And she would have done it alone. She’d deceived them all to face the king. The image of her being thrown by his magic, the bruises on her face-

Her blood drip, drip, dripped onto the earth.

‘Az.’

‘Give me my fucking mate.’

The colour drained from Eris’ face at the shadows poised to strike him, shield or not. Even Helion stepped away, his magic recoiling with him. He felt the grip of Rhys on his arm release as Eris carefully lowered Nesta upon the soft grass too.

Azriel had one singular focus. He didn’t care for Rhysand’s words advising him not to be rash. Nor Helion’s advice about her magic.

The moment that he cradled Nesta into his arms, he winnowed back to the Town House.

This was the female he loved. The one he wanted to spend his whole life with.

And he was so fucking angry with her.

Fuck the Carranam bond. Nesta had laid in his arms, knowing she was going to wriggle away from the others and offer herself as a sacrifice. Did she think her life meant so little? That it could be easily thrown away?

Azriel wouldn’t live if she died. There could be no future without her.

Even with fury roaring in his blood, Azriel did his due diligence as her mate and stripped off her spoiled, blood-soaked leathers. Her knees were bruised and a nasty-looking one spread across her ribs. They had matching breaks then. He washed her hands first then bound the cut on her hand, tying it tight to cut off the flow. Nesta’s hair was darkened by blood, so he held her over the bath and did his best to wash it before cleaning the rest of her body.

His anger refused to soften even as he tucked her into bed and stroked her face. Azriel’s mind began to wander. Had she done it to get away from him? Was it a punishment because he’d gone to fight with damaged wings? Was Nesta trying to give him a taste of his own medicine?

Quick steps sounded down the corridor and Azriel braced himself for whoever it might be.

Rhysand loomed in the doorway.

‘Az, I need you back there.’

‘No.’

‘It is your duty to-’

‘No,’ he snarled. His thumb brushed against Nesta’s fingers. ‘I don’t care, Rhys. This is my most important duty. I will be at my mate’s side until she is well.’

Rhys’ shoulders slumped. There was blood and mud splattered up his face. ‘Az, we have a mountain to manage. Cass is heading to Illyria to let families of fallen soldiers know. I need to manage Hybern’s soldiers and speak with the other high lords. I need you.’

‘No.’

‘Feyre and Elain are going to burn their father’s body in lieu of a funeral. Nesta should be there.'

The burning anger inside of Azriel’s chest threatened to loosen itself on his high lord. ‘Can’t you fucking see she’s unconscious?’

Rhys stepped back, wariness widening his eyes. Slowly, he said, ‘I expect you at my side, Azriel.’

‘Don’t pull rank on me. If it was Feyre laying here, nobody would cleave you from her side. Do not expect me to desert my mate.’

For a short while longer, Rhysand lingered then departed with a wearied sigh. Any other time and Azriel would be right at his side. There were more important places for Azriel to be now.

Even when the others returned, late into the night, Azriel did not move from Nesta’s side. She remained unconscious, her breathing slow but even. He allowed Madja to enter the room and check her over. A nudge of her magic would help her to heal quicker. The others knew better than to invite him to join them downstairs where the most expensive barrels of wine had been brought out to celebrate. He was in no mood to celebrate. Azriel had almost lost everything.

For two days, Azriel remained steadfast beside his mate’s side. She stirred a handful of times, but remained deeply sleeping for most of it. He stole fragments of sleep whenever his head slumped for too long. His shadows turned traitor and instead of pricking him to keep him awake, they allowed him to rest for longer than he wanted. Nobody could move him from Nesta’s side: not Morrigan, as much as she pleaded; not Rhys or Feyre trying issue orders; and certainly not Lucien who had likely been sent in as a radical choice to offer information about Eris and the Continent as bait. Azriel would not be moved.

His anger softened. The sharp edges were rubbed smooth.

With every hour that ticked by, Azriel’s anger morphed into sorrow. He couldn’t imagine the burden that had been upon Nesta’s shoulders – the target that Hybern had painted on her back for protecting her sister. The fear that must have gripped her in those moments where she lured the king to her. She was selfless, reckless, and brave. Azriel stroked a length of her soft hair. As much as he despised Eris Vanserra, if the male hadn’t shown up then Nesta would be dead. He didn’t like to owe a debt to any, much less the Autumn Court heir – but when it came to Nesta, there was nothing that Azriel wouldn’t give, wouldn’t owe to protect her.

On the third night, she woke groggily, grasping at her throat. Carefully, Azriel trickled water onto Nesta’s tongue. She ended up drinking most of the jug before blinking heavily at him and settling back down onto the pillows, a hand clinging to him.

***

There were wounds inside of Nesta’s heart that she would never recover from. Her extended sleep had only worsened them. When she woke again, at the dawn, Azriel set to running a shallow bath for her and requesting food from the wraiths.

They went through the motions of him caring for her as she slowly settled back into her body. It felt foreign and wrong.

Nesta did not want to be here.

Not in this house.

Not with these people.

None of it.

For every invitation to join them for dinner, to drink with them in the lounge, Nesta refused. Azriel took her lead and acted as a buffer to her sisters’ requests even though he’d press her on the refusal. Nesta wouldn’t give him an answer. She couldn’t tell him that she hated herself. Hated how many lives she’d ended in the war with a stroke of her power. Hated that she was bound in some way to Eris and not wholly Azriel’s anymore. Hated closing her eyes and seeing the lights spark out from her father’s eyes as his neck was snapped. Hated to think that she could lose Azriel one day. It was better to close down and push him away. It would hurt less when she lost him if he hated her.

After a week of her hibernation, Azriel tried to tempt her outside. He offered the library which she refused and even a tea shop that she liked in Velaris, but she refuted that idea too. Each time that she rejected his ideas, Nesta saw his face fall a little more. She had to keep cracking him bit by bit then he’d realise she wasn’t worth his time. He’d find somebody better, somebody brighter, who could give him what Nesta couldn’t.

‘We’ve been in this room a long time,’ he said gently. Azriel reached to run a finger down her arm but Nesta moved from his path. Each night, he’d lay beside her in the bed but she’d toss his arm off repeatedly until he stopped trying.

‘And what is that meant to mean?’

He looked towards the window where twilight was settling in outside.

‘Fresh air might help.’

Nesta’s nostrils flared as she stood. She hauled the window open so that a strong wind blew in – and with it the promise of autumn arriving. ‘Fresh air.’

She hoped to see his eyes darken. For his siphons to pulse with warning so that she could have confirmation that she was pushing him to his limits. Nesta wanted Azriel far from someone like her.

He stood and closed the window, blocking off the howl of the wind. ‘You understand exactly what I mean.’

‘If you want fresh air then leave. Nobody has asked you to be at my side morning and night. It is unwanted.’

He had a way of emptying himself. Azriel kept his expression perfectly vacant. He was too difficult to read. Even his shadows sat still behind him.

‘I am here because I love you. Because I am your mate.’

‘I don’t want you here,’ she hissed.

‘Madja has agreed that you are well enough to try and use your magic again.’

‘I have no magic,’ she protested. It was a lie. It swirled and ached inside of her. Eris’ own magic had entered her body, scorching the veins in its wake. She was different because of it. Her magic thrashed at the sides of its cage, desperate to practise its new facets.

In an even voice, Azriel replied, ‘I will leave tonight, but you will have Elain or Feyre here in my stead.’

‘I didn’t realise I needed a nurse maid.’

‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘Because I don’t know what you might do if you are alone.’

Nesta’s heart gave a sorrowful lurch. ‘Leave me alone.’

He did as she asked, but within a minute, perhaps less, Feyre entered her bedroom. Her sister’s presence was maybe worse than Azriel’s. He was at least content to let her sit in silence or read. Feyre did not stop with her never-ending stream of questions or narrations. She talked of their father, of the funeral where she turned his body to ash, and it took all of Nesta’s strength not to scream at her sister to be quiet.

And so it was.

If Azriel wasn’t occupying the chair in her room, it was Elain or Feyre. Nesta stopped responding to them. Stopped answering their questions. She only ate when Azriel loomed over her and threatened to feed her like an infant if she didn’t hold the fork herself.

The war had ruined her. Every day became harder and harder to push herself through.

When Feyre one day snatched her hand unexpectedly, Nesta had no time to ask what she was doing before they arrived in her favoured tea shop. Azriel was already there, her favourite tea brewed and waiting for her.

Nesta couldn’t give him hope. There was something rotten inside of her. It would ruin him if she let him in.

Like an insolent child, Nesta sat upon the chair opposite Azriel and refused to drink her tea. She folded her arms across her chest and stared at him. She ignored his quiet utterings, pleading with her to drink. Ignored Feyre’s bubbly chatter. They had tried to ambush her – but Nesta was an unstoppable force of stubbornness. They would not find her malleable.

The further two attempts at integrating her back into society were as disastrous. One had been to swap her bed mate to Cassian who she had easily managed to grind down by making a grab for his wings multiple times until he relented and backed off. The second had been to bring the dinner to her room including all eight members of the household. From the wary expression that Azriel wore, she knew it had not been his idea to invade her personal space – and he was the one who ended it by ushering them all out.

‘I just want to help you,’ he said, the stress of the last three weeks beginning to weigh on him. There were bags beneath his eyes. On the nights that he stayed in her room, he no longer assumed a place in the bed. He’d bring a blanket to sleep on the floor or the chair, but he rarely slept. He had been harder to push away than Nesta thought. He was as stubborn as she was.

‘I do not want your help. I do not need it.’

‘Then what do you need?’ He pleaded.

To hurt him. To push him away for good, Nesta had to aim low at wounds that hadn’t healed for him.

‘I want Eris.’

The words landed. A vindictive part of her wished she’d used his name sooner. It made Azriel’s wings flare. All seven of his siphons rippled with colour.

‘I want to be with Eris. He is my Carranam.’

‘You don’t even know what it is.’

‘He is mine,’ she said, knowing that each word would hurt him. ‘He will train my magic then we-’

‘You’ve sworn to the Mother a dozen times that you have no magic,’ he said swiftly, cutting into her speech.

There was one wound left. One last way to make Azriel bleed so that he was as repulsed by her as he should be.

‘I want to be with Eris because he is the son of a high lord. He is what I deserve. And you...' she fumbled. 'You’re just…’

The words lodged themselves in her throat. Nesta couldn’t do it.

‘Say it,’ he said softly.

Nesta ground her teeth together and held her chin up.

‘No,’ Azriel murmured. ‘Say what you want to say, Nesta. Tell me what I am.’

Her whole body gave an involuntary tremble.

In silence, Azriel pulled a bag from beneath the bed and began sweeping through her clothing, throwing it into the bag. The three books that she had on the bedside table were tossed on top along with a spare pair of shoes. Azriel wrapped and arm around Nesta then threw her over his shoulder. The dig of his bony shoulder made her stomach ache. She smacked his back – tried to scratch his wings – as he manoeuvred her through the bedroom and down the stairs.

Her hissing and spitting like a cat roused Feyre who darted from the office downstairs.

‘Put her down,’ she demanded.  

Azriel ignored her and continued striding through the house with Nesta hauled over his shoulder.

‘Azriel, what the fuck are you doing?’

He exited the Town House.

‘I’m her mate,’ he said. ‘I’ll decide what’s best for her.’

Nesta sucked in a breath as shadows wrapped around them, disfiguring her vision.

When they stopped, a cold wind blew through her hair.

She recognised the wooden cabin at once. The wildflowers which had been as high as her thighs last time she’d visited were brown and wilting as the summer waned. Stars were scattered through the early evening sky.

She couldn’t be here.

‘Take me back,’ she begged.

Azriel gently set her onto her feet. ‘No.’

‘I don’t want to be here.’

The front door opened and light flooded through the gap.

She scrambled to find purchase on his chest. ‘Please. Take me back to Velaris. I'll be better. Please.’

Azriel’s hands settled on her arms, pinning them to her sides. It wasn’t anger in his expression. Nesta wished it was. No, Azriel looked utterly defeated.

His mother met them quickly, concern pulling her dark brows together.

‘Nesta isn’t doing well,’ he said bluntly. ‘The city isn’t a good place for her.’

Rovena nodded in sympathetic understanding. A warm hand stroked between her shoulder blades and it took all of Nesta’s strength not to break into a sob from the touch alone.

Without a further word, Azriel turned and walked a handful steps away before winnowing into nothing.

[uispeccoll]

#VoicesFromTheStacks

Los Bailadores Zapatistas and the Latino Native American Cultural Center

Last week, the Latino-Native American Alumni Alliance (LANA3) gathered on campus to celebrate more than 50 years of the Latino Native American Cultural Center (LNACC) at the University of Iowa.

In 1971, three students—Rusty Barceló, Ruth Pushetonequa, and Tony Zavala—founded the the Chicano Indian American Cultural Center, later renamed the Latino Native American Cultural Center (LNACC). In it’s five-decade history LNACC has hosted events like cookouts, powwows, and dances; published literary magazines and newsletters; held rallies, boycotts, and protests; and sponsored a variety of other educational and social programs.  

The Libraries’ Special Collections and Archives recently acquired new materials from LNACC, including these beautiful dresses handmade by students in Los Bailadores Zapatistas, a baile folklórico troupe on campus. Baile folklórico encompasses many different types of traditional folk dance stemming from various regions of Mexico and cultural traditions, often with Indigenous and Spanish influences.

Los Bailadores Zapatista’s was formed at University of Iowa in the mid-1970s and aimed to “increase the education level and understanding of mestizo dancing and music, and to share our mestizo culture with the university and community population.” Los Bailadores performed on campus and throughout Iowa and the Midwest, often accompanied by the singing group El Conjunto Chicano. They visited other campuses and performed at community events and festivals. In 1978 they attended the National Ballet Folklórico festival in Kansas, and six students traveled to Mexico that summer to learn traditional dances.

Celina Espinoza, the groups instructor, taught the other members how to sew costumes, which are representative of traditional dance attire worn in different regions of Mexico. The group performed dances from the states of Jalisco and Veracruz, as well as from northern regions of Mexico and what is now the Southwestern United States.

Los Bailadores Zapatistas was just one of several student organizations affiliated with LNACC that brought Chicano art, music, and culture to audiences on the University of Iowa campus and beyond. To learn more about Los Bailadores and the Latino Native American Cultural Center, visit us in person or online at the Iowa Digital Library, check out our past blog posts on LNACC, and see the full finding aid to this collection here.

--Anne M, Olson Graduate Research Assistant

[englishstrawbie]

Ooh. I really like prompts 9, 11, 12, 29, & 51, so whichever most inspires you of those for Marina would be nice to read!

Thank you for the prompts! I took three of these (9, 12 and 29) and combined them into one ficlet. I hope you like it, I'm a little rusty! 😊

>>>>>>>>>>

Carina pauses just inside the door of Joe’s bar, her eyes sweeping the room as she looks for her wife. She is momentarily distracted when she spots Jack and Travis on the far side, arguing over a microphone as they fight to be heard on the karaoke machine. Vic is nearby, her face scrunched up and her hands covering her ears, while Cutler, Larsson and Kline cheer them on.  

Carina bites back a laugh as she resumes her search. She finds Maya at the bar, perched on a stool – her usual spot, the same seat she occupied all those years ago when they first met; the same seat she always gravitates back to subconsciously. Andy sits beside her as they knock back a shot of something Carina knows they will regret in the morning. She resists the pull to go straight to them, holding back as she takes in Maya’s outfit. She is wearing a pair of dark jeans and a simple tee, the already short sleeves slightly rolled to show off the muscles in her arms.

Carina feels a familiar stirring inside of her as her stomach flips – no, not flips. It somersaults, the kind that would win a gold medal at the Olympics.

“DeLuca!”

She turns towards the call of her name to see Ben waving a bottle of wine at her, offering her a glass. She shakes her head at him, her hand instinctively running over her stomach. They haven’t told anyone about the embryo transfer, deciding to keep this one to themselves for now.

When she looks back towards the bar, Maya is grinning at her, calling her closer. Carina moves through the crowds and greets her wife with a kiss. Her lips taste of salty fries and tequila as Carina sweeps her tongue over them.

“What took you so long? I missed you!” Maya says when their lips part, her words a little slurred.

“You’re drunk!”

“And that’s my queue to leave,” Andy says teasingly.

As she stands up, she reaches out and squeezes Carina’s arm gently, her eyes bright and sparkling. It is easy for Carina to guess what they have been talking about.

“You told her,” Carina says as she slips onto the stool that Maya has pulled closer for her.

“It’s Andy,” Maya says with a shrug, “she doesn’t count. And…” She holds up a finger and points it in the direction of her wife. “I am not drunk.”

Carina chuckles, a small shake of her head as she calls the barman over and orders a sparkling water.

“How was work?” Maya asks.

“Busy,” Carina laments. “Two mamas – twin sisters – who wanted to give birth to their babies at the same time. Except one was crowning while the other was only six centimetres dilated.” She sips her drink. “When I give birth...”

She stops herself, silently berating herself for getting her hopes up too high. After all, the IUIs didn’t take, she isn’t getting any younger and the knowledge that time is running out for them weighs heavily on her.

“I mean, if…”

“When,” Maya says. She reaches out and takes Carina’s hand, waiting for Carina to look at her. “Hey, it’s okay to be optimistic.”

Carina opens her mouth to object, but Maya interrupts her again.

“When.”

A small smile passes Carina’s lips and she nods, but doesn’t say the word out loud again, doesn’t want to jinx them. Instead, she leans in and kisses Maya, lingering a little longer this time as she feels the day’s tension leave her body.

“How’s the party?”

She looks over her shoulder to where Sullivan and Ross dance, ignorant of the celebrations going on around them, their eyes only on each other. They had kept their engagement secret for several months, fearful of the reaction they might receive, not only from 19 but from the powers that be within Seattle FD. They need not have been worried about their family at 19, though, as the team had rallied around them and insisted that they celebrate at Joe’s after work.

As the happy couple move around the dancefloor lost in their own little world, Carina smiles to herself, knowing that feeling very well as she is transported back to her own wedding day when she couldn’t keep her eyes off Maya. Especially in that dress.

“Better now that you’re here,” Maya says.

Carina can’t help but roll her eyes at the corny line, but she melts at the endearment anyway.

“Do you ever think about doing it again?”

Carina looks at her, lost. “Think about what?”

“Getting married again,” Maya says.

Carina laughs. “You’re more than enough wife for me, Maya,” she says.

“No,” Maya says, “I mean… do you ever think about marrying me again?”

“I think you’ve had too much tequila.”

“No!” Maya says. “I mean, maybe…”

Carina quirks an eyebrow, watching as Maya shifts in her seat, turning her body to face her.

“I’ve been thinking,” Maya says. “We rebuilt our foundations. We had a second first date…”

“Twice,” Carina reminds her.

“… we started over and I… I fell in love with you all over again. Every day, every time I look at you, I think I fall a little more in love.” The corners of Maya’s eyes crinkle as they shine at her, so full of love that Carina’s heart swells. “I promised myself that we’d take it slow, that we’d take our time making sure that our foundations are really strong this time.”

“They are, my love.”

“I know,” Maya says. “But all of a sudden there’s Liam…”

Her smile widens at the mention of their son.

“…and a house, and IVF, and I never got to ask you to marry me again. Because I never asked you the first time, not properly, not the way you deserve; and I wanted us to have a second chance at that, too.”

“Maya,” Carina says, taking Maya’s hands in her own, “I asked you, remember? I got out of that taxi and I asked you to marry me. And yes, it was messy, but I love that it’s part of our story.”

“So do I,” Maya says. “And I’m not trying to rewrite our history. But I never thought I’d be so lucky, especially not in this lifetime, and I want to celebrate that. Me and you and Liam and…” Her eyes drop to Carina’s belly. “…whoever else might come along.”

Carina’s eyes widen as Maya slides off her stool, her face determined. Definitely too much tequila.

“What are you doing?”

“What if I asked you right now? What if I got down on one knee, right here in this bar, and asked you to marry me?”

“I’d think you were crazy!” Carina laughs.

A few curious glances are thrown their way and Carina grabs Maya’s hand, tugging her closer before they draw too much of a crowd.

Maya looks at her stubbornly. “Would you say yes?”

There is a nervous lilt in her voice that doesn’t go unnoticed and Carina softens. The answer is an easy one.

“Bambina, I would say yes every time.”

She smiles as she pulls Maya even closer, their lips crashing together, not caring that they have an audience. She thinks she hears a wolf whistle from across the bar and doesn’t know if it is meant for them, but Carina ignores it anyway, too wrapped up in her wife’s embrace to think about anyone else. They are breathless when they finally break apart, but Carina keeps Maya in her arms, burying her face into her neck and inhaling the lingering scent of her perfume. She wonders how Maya will propose, and whether it will be a big spectacle or somewhere quiet; if she will be surprised when it happens or if she will see it coming. Her heart flutters with excitement and she tells herself to be patient.

“So,” Maya says with a conspiratorial tone, “since you’re feeling so agreeable tonight, do you wanna sing karaoke with me?”

Carina tips her head back and laughs loudly.

“Absolutely not!”

She ignores the playful pout on Maya’s face, slipping off her stool and grabbing Maya’s hand.

“But I will dance with you.”

As she walks towards the dancefloor and listens to her wife’s laughter behind her, Carina’s hand rests on her stomach one more time. Maybe, just maybe, all of her dreams are coming true.

[albino-parakeet]

Name: Llyr (They/Them)

The skytober drawing they originally come from

Some tid bits about Llyr

Born some time between Season of Prophecy and Dreams, but went missing until Performance.

Picked up surfing shortly after reappearing and instantly became obsessed with it

Makes surfboards as a side hobby and is willing to help anyone who's damaged their boards

Like a ball of energy. Always moving.

Has a scar that stretches across their mid section from a horrifying encounter.

Due to them being injured during their moth years, their flying is very rusty. Always collides with at least one sky kid anytime they fly

Their bad flying actually helped them make their first friend after returning.

Outfit is a Rallying Thrillseeker suit that they painted to match Adva, their Dino companion.

Feather head accessories also worn to mimic Adva

Cape is more penguin like than Performance guide cape.

A little taller than average moth starting height (Height 5 based on this Sky height chart)

Some backstory (not all of it yet) about Llyr and Adva under cut

Llyr's backstory. (Reads more like a storyboard cause idk how to write.)

By the time Llyr reappeared, Season of Performance had started. Thankfully they aren’t alone and are almost always followed by what looks to be a large “light creature”, who is just as animated as their Sky kid friend.

Adva, a Beipiaosaurus, was a gift from a kind Shepard that helped Llyr during their time recovering in the underground city after a scary encounter with one of the more territorial creatures. They named her Adva because of how small she was when they received her, but soon realized the name would be ironic due to how fast she was growing. Adva, is their partner in crime during most of their adventures and acts somewhat like a service animal for Llyr. She helps Llyr calm down during moments of high stress and anxiety, letting them lie down and focus on the texture of her feathers until they relax and catch their breath.

The Dinosaur Fan Season that's mentioned in this

Some extra doodles of them cause I love them:

[stellarislune]

Asirel x Pet | impromptu fic

Or what happens when Pet 'ran' away without a trace one day.

ASIREL's POV

"Are you sure that these tactics will give us more profit?"

"Surely, the losses will be big. I beg to disagree."

"Perhaps we should do this instead.."

"I highly doubt the effectiveness of the.."

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Flashbacks of the meeting drilled a headache down into my brain.

It's another one of those days where the court just keeps toeing their feet out of line. If I snap back, they appease me with their façade of docileness.

Even with all the power and reputation in my grasp, the fact that I am younger than most of those greedy, old zealots mean that I am lower than them. At least, that is what they believe.

Sigh.

If I crack at the smallest slight against me, it'll be a big damage to my invincible, shiny image.

Asirel.

The most powerful man with powerful connections all over the world. I scoffed to myself. The throne is a lonely place for the Almighty.

Creakkk.

The door opens to my favorite chamber as of late; the room that belongs to my favored Pet.

At this time of the evening, they're usually up and about. Either playing with knives and darts, reading, or simply exploring the room in their idle time. I have not allowed them to come out ever since that fiasco where they tried to use my personal lessons on others. Not that I left that fool gloating over having stolen what was mine — they won't be able to bring mortal possessions in whatever position they are in right now.

What greets me, however, is an empty, silent room devoid of light from the chandeliers hanging above. There's knives scattered on the floor, splattered with what looked like blood. A soft breeze runs past me, so I turn my head towards the window. It has been broken—whether it has been broken in or out however, I do not know.

It's a moonlit night. Its rays illuminated the room dimly, yet with enough light to identify whatever it is on the ground. Several bodies, probably dead, all scattered unceremoniously against the walls in various directions.

"What games are you playing, Pet?", I mutter to myself, exasperated yet also intrigued. This is surely not the first time this has happened.

My Pet has gone to feed, perhaps. Unsated by these.. lucky fools. I think. They always return to me.

Suddenly, the waft of air brings something that smells strangely familiar. The scent.

It brings back the smell of rusty cages, bleek-looking faces, and a rot of something that has never seen the light for ages—during the first time that I have met them.

It's the faint scent of inhibitors.

I turned the lights on.

The bodies in the dark now have faces on them. Seeing such a mess in this room has never been surprising. Pet always feeds as if they have been starved. Like a feral beast without a leash. What shocks me is the fact that the men, albeit beaten up and bruised, appear to be alive.

I knelt down, putting two fingers on one of the men's neck and, indeed, there's a pulse. These men have fought, that's obvious enough. To think that they were toyed by my Pet is a huge possibility, yet something compels me to think that something is definitely, definitely, wrong.

With haste, I grabbed my phone. Calling one of my attendants to check on the CCTVs all over the place. My hands, which were once burning with annoyance and anger from earlier, felt cold as ice.

"Check every footage. Every nook and cranny.", My voice was deep, commanding. Somehow, it sounded shaky against the static. "My Pet is somewhere in this vicinity. Rally my men and find them." I grit my teeth as I put the phone down.

This isn't the first time that you've disappeared. It's not the first time that you have escaped from my grasp, only to be dragged back again.

But this.. this is the first time my heart has beaten this fast.

Surely, you will return. Right?

[wonderful-magician]

My rewrite of starlight express except it's just a detailed song list

Disclaimer: this is just for fun! And also some mentions of the race 4 crash and the stuff surrounding it. Along with characters like greaseball and Electra in not so pretty lights. Though I believe they both improve as people and are good people after the show!

You can completely ignore this post! If I sound a bit negative at all just know that starlight express is literally my favorite thing in the world right now and I would give every character a smooch on the forehead.

Basically I have my dream song list that has no rules. No time constraints just fully compliant to my AU. Mostly inspired by Broadway, the Vegas pre-recorded races, 2015 Bochum and original London. All horribly mashed together with glitter glue. (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠) Except instead of just showing off my dream song list. I'm also going to explain how each song played out in a setting that one could call a movie or tv show. I was originally going to draw every song but that's simply an exhausting sounding idea when I've already started a project for drawing every character.. anyway, to my ranting!

No control sequence

My Starlight express doesn't take place in a child's imagination. Instead of a full control sequence. We just get AI control announcing the national race!

Rolling stock

Rolling stock takes place early in the morning. Rusty wakes up early to watch the diesels get pumped and ready in the early hours. As rusty still has some time before he needs to grab the coaches for the busy day. And he somberly watches the big strong diesels.. greaseball is mostly hidden by the shadows but looks absolutely awesome! Featuring his great shades even though it's dark out.

Call me rusty/new intro song

Rusty no longer gets mocked immediately by the diesels. Instead rusty skates off to wake up and grab the coaches. The disgruntled and unprepared coaches whine and warn rusty about the day as they know his plans to race. Call me rusty is a great intro song for rusty and it wouldn't mind the original being used. Though truly I feel like rusty just deserves a good I want song that's more clear about his desire to win the races to prove the power of steam! ( His wish is to win! Not get pearl. )

Lotta locomotion

The introduction for the girls. They sing a lotta locomotion while rusty pulls them to the main yard but keeps taking detours. Trying to show off his skills yet the girls keep mentioning that he's simply not a popular engine nor is he very attractive to most train standards. Though pearl is silent and somber whenever it's brought up ( she likes him )

Shortened he whistled at me, new lyrics

Once they reach the yard. Rusty rushes off to get the freight and leaves the coaches in the main yard alone. Pearl gets in an argument with Buffy and Ashley. As she defends rusty from their criticism. And Dinah just shakes her head. Pearl sings an improved solo about her desire for an engine to whistle at her. ( Implying it's rusty. )

Freight

Pearls solo is suddenly interrupted by a loud horn. As the freight train is pulled in by rusty. The girls mock the freight trucks and the trucks mock the coaches. Though they have a friendly relationship even if they mock each other. Insert the introductionsss. Once freight ends. They start to rally for the noon race.

National engines

Standard national introductions. Not much to say.

AC/DC

Electra and the components show up fashionably late for the races. Electra is introduced as powerful and show stopping like always. A superstar that wasn't even expected to appear. Electra's hypnotizing powers are shown more clearly. As he magnetizes and influences pearl. And she's amazed by him. To Rusty's distaste.

Pumping Iron

Electra is suddenly interrupted by greaseball. Who had been watching from afar since the nationals. greaseball attracts Dinah and pearl, all the components, and CB and flat-top. Greaseball is shown to be the leader of the diesels and the strongest in the yard.

Coda freight

Electra and greaseball start to tussle as they are both strong engines desiring attention and leadership. And they challenge each other to the race. Rusty interrupts them and they mock him. Before they start the march.

Pearl you're honored

Everybody needs a partner. Pearl is invited by Electra ( purse.. ) to race. Pearl originally refuses but purse gets Electra himself to make an appearance. And his magnetism begins.

rewrite of make up my heart

The song is remade to be both a pearl solo. And somewhat a gag song. For pearl is shown having a dilemma. Wanting to race with rusty but she is being hypnotized to race with Electra slowly as the song continues. Everytime she turns to face the two boys they are behaving. And Electra looks favorable, rusty looks rather lame. But when she turns- Electra is mocking rusty and pushing him around with purse. The other components come out and pearl decides to race with Electra. Rusty is heartbroken.

Race 1

There's me

Dinah is upset with greaseball cheating during race 1. ( Not realizing that CB was the main one actively cheating for GB. She's just mad that GB hit a national. ) she cries and takes a break from GB. And is comforted by CB who is upset to see his closest friend crying. The song is more comedy focused. Putting emphasis on the silly ways CB tries to help Dinah. Which cheers her up.

Poppas blues

CB helps Dinah back to the coaches. And we follow him and rusty return to the main yard. Where poppa has appeared to endorse rusty for wanting to race. And sings his song while the freight dance. By the end of it. He realizes that rusty is upset. And finds out that rusty is super upset and hurt from being mocked and left. Poppa decides to race in Rusty's place ( to Rusty's dismay. ) and races with Belle the sleeping car...

Belle the sleeping car

Belle is shown sleeping and poppa wakes her up. She sings her song. ( Rusty has some less than stellar words to say. Even though she's implied to be his adoptive mother of sorts. ) And she goes off with poppa to race.

Crazy and engine of love tidbit

Rusty approaches pearl again. Begging her to race with him instead so that poppa and Belle don't race. She calls him crazy and the song starts. As he tries to court her back ( with a lil bit of engine of love. ) She gets close to saying yes but is pulled away by the other coaches.

Starlight express

Rusty, defeated after being rejected and mocked so much during the day. Sings starlight express as the day ends. And he falls asleep knowing the next day will have the next race. ( And he's worried about poppa, and pearl. )

Race 2

The OLC rap/silver dollar

After poppa Is injured from the race but places first place. They debate if rusty can replace him in the lineup. As they debate. The grand prize is revealed. ( And the people who want it most. Are hinted. ) Rusty couples up with CB, who supports his ability to race throughout the rap.

Rewritten pearl twirl

Greaseball and Electra get in a tussle. GB bonks Electra on the head and his magnetism ceases. Pearl gets mad at Electra and moves to go to rusty. Before she's stopped by greaseball. He flirts with her and she's receptive ( who wouldn't be. ) Dinah is heartbroken by greaseball but he claims it's just some fun and it'll only be for the race. And pearl doesn't say anything to Dinah

Uncoupled

Dinah sings a sadder version of uncoupled. ( I hate it when she's treated like comedy relief! ) as she's upset that she feels betrayed by her boyfriend and her best friend. And she sings of her feelings of low worth.

Girls rolling stock

Ashley and buffy come over to comfort Dinah after they see her crying. They're both mad that greaseball treated her in such a way. ( It's also implied that Buffy and Ashley are a couple. ) and they mention some boundaries that need to be set. Before cheering her up with a song.

Dinah you're honored

Purse collects Dinah to race with Electra. ( Who was still upset about losing pearl ) And she doesn't put up a fight.

wide smile

CB is shown alone. Before he's trailing GB. And speaking to Electra through his radio. Before assuring greaseball that he's still working with him. Before skating off to Electra. And sharing his plans to crash Rusty and steal the silver dollar to Electra. Electra is shocked and allured by the plan. And trusts CB even as CB sings of his crimes. The components are distrustful of CB.

Race 3

Right place right time

The Rockies come in to explain to rusty that the system is broken. And that he'll never win because the rich and the popular control who wins and who loses. and rusty simply has no chance in ever winning against somebody like Electra or greaseball. As rusty is still reeling from being injured and betrayed by CB.

Starlight sequence

Rusty is defeated after the Rockies finish their song. And he sits down in pain from his injuries and his mental exhaustion. He screams for the starlight express and is visited by them. They inform him that he doesn't need help. and simply needs to believe in himself and do what he needs to. As the tides are in his favor.

Dustin/Dinah's disco

Dustin also had seen the starlight express. And is found by rusty. The two confide in each other for being mocked by the others. And they partner up for the last race. / Dinah rejects and yells at Electra for being a jerk. And a whiny brat. Electra is hurt ( despite it being deserved as he won't stop talking about getting second place. And deserving to get first. ) couples with CB. ( To the components dismay )

Race 4

One rock and roll too many

After the horrific crash that occurred during race 4. CB, Electra and greaseball are utterly miserable. Nearly shutting down as their bodies are wired together somewhat and broken. CB is the weakest. But they sing their song in sadness. And the silver dollar is yanked from CB after he passed out.

Only he snippit

Back to pearl. Pearl is shown singing a few lyrics from only he as she is alone. And reflecting over what happened during the races and before.

Only you

The duet between Rusty and Pearl. Pearl declares she will try her best to not let others stop her from staying with rusty. And rusty declares he'll protect her. Smooch smooch ( I LOVE THEM )

Ending dialogue

Poppa is stern with CB. And gives the silver dollar to rusty. The components are harsh to their master and teach him a few words. And Dinah makes up with GB. Saying they need to set each other's boundaries more. But she still loves him ( and he still loves her. Smooch. ) and he apologizes for cheating and messing around.

Light at the end of the tunnel

Honestly this song gives me major during the credits so just imagine a bumping credits scroll lmao. Even better? One of those 2010 animated movie dancing credits shdhdbdb

OKKK IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ASK ME I LOVE TALKING (⁠θ⁠‿⁠θ⁠) this was fun to write. I REALLY LOVE TALKING I might make more posts like this but I'm unsure

[fayrobertsuk]

Mount Snowdon's name is officially changed after 5,000 sign petition - Mirror Online

I went on Google for something completely different, but this made me punch the air in jubilation, so you might be interested to see it too.

In case you're not familiar with the background, this is important because, despite rallying massively over the last 70 years or so, Welsh is still very much a language at risk. And when I say "at risk", I mean "subject to a campaign to drive it into extinction that very nearly worked and still might". Welsh speakers of my grandmother's generation and earlier were subjected to corporal punishment and shame tactics (see The Welsh Knot for one particularly notorious example), and workers to disciplinary action for speaking Welsh in school or workplace. In Wales.

And since tourism has been a huge source of income for the country (increasingly important, arguably, since so many coalmines and steelworks were shut down), using English placenames to be, I guess, less off-putting for visitors, has been increasingly the norm. Which means that the arguably far more beautiful (in Welsh or more directly translated into English) names are dying out, as locals forget them too.

One of the reasons I get quite passionate about this, is that I'm the last person in my family to speak Welsh much beyond the usual "good morning", "exit", and "welcome to Wales", and I'm a second language speaker at that, horrendously rusty. Another is, I guess, the guilt of the voluntary exile – what can I do but shout about it from far away and make occasional forays back to Duolingo's Welsh course?

Anyway, it's no longer Snowdon but Yr Wyddfa (Uhrr Wuthvah - th hard like though or that) and not Snowdonia but Eryri (Err-urree), emphasis always on the penultimate syllable (Yr WYTHfa, ErYri).

[robot-roadtrip-rants]

So I finished Unremembered Empire...

Actually I finished it like a week ago, I've just been wrangling with some gnarly insomnia and haven't had the brainpower to post. Ending thoughts:

For some reason I was under the impression that Vulkan was stark raving mad and stark raving naked when he charged Konrad Curze, and I'm deeply disappointed that he wasn't. Would it make sense? Probably not. Would it be fucking wild? Absolutely. I can only shake my head at Abnett's cowardice.

Does Curze have any motive beyond, "lol killing fun"?

Lion and Guilliman just fucking jumped Sanguinius as soon as he got off the ship, didn't they. Dude must have been so happy to see his brothers, and then they just cram a crown into his hands.

Euten rallying the Shattered Legions was phenomenal. Can we just make her their temporary primarch while they're on Macragge? They could use a mom, is all I'm saying.

I know it's a very serious moment, but I find the unexpected orbital drop to be such a hilarious concept. Baffled Macraggans getting bombarded by equally baffled Dark Angels. Imagine having a drop pod land in your neighborhood, and now you have these deeply embarrassed Astartes on your porch apologizing for blowing over your garage. Everyone comes out to stare. Someone's grandpa is convinced that the Word Bearers are attacking and has to be restrained from opening fire with a rusty old lasgun. A small child keeps escaping her parents to tell the Dark Angels that their armor is the wrong color. The Arbites are trying, and failing, to hustle everyone back into their homes. And then the Ultramarines come tearing in like the most deranged traffic cops to ever dog the streets. I'm gonna write fanfiction about this, mark my words.

[urwendii]

Me: I will not write anymore.

Also me: 🤡

Set during Lara's time amongst the Remnants and before Jacob's identity reveal. Idk, hes tagging along her shenanigans i suppose.

Fandom: RoTB

Pairing: Jacob x Lara

Rating: G

Wordcount: 768

It is funny he thinks while watching Lara hangs one hand from a pole of rusty metal, her body agile like a cat, unheeding of the hold of gravity – That Jacob is the one with the immortal soul and the more-than-natural abilities while feeling overly human in his old skin, filled with flaws and regrets. She is human too, more than him anyway, and even if extraordinary by all standards, her physical abilities seemed to be the one truly Blessed by God.

His heart is in his throat when he watches her run along a narrow beam of rotten wood, jumping meters away and hoisting herself on the ridge from her ice axe alone. And she does this without breaking a sweat, wearing that ancient armour she has found in the Archives that triggers conflicting emotions from deep down his chest.

Jacob is probably one of the oldest beings on earth by now - aside from his former army stalking the old ruins of his Greatest Sin, he has seen miracles and feats deemed impossible turned into reality. To take him by surprise, ask of you to go beyond his millenium of existence, something that a few weeks until now, he would have been unsure to ever experience again.

And yet. And yet, Lara came barrelling into his life as if placed by the Hand of God Itself, dressed of stubbornness and clothed in a thrive - desperation - to survive he is all well acquainted with.

The path she is balancing on right now is as lethal as forgotten siberian trails can be when encased in blue ice but Lara is quick on her feet, and soon enough she has made it to the other side of the large river-made canyon where the ruins of a once mighty Byzantine building stood.

It is both strange in a way and eerily familiar to see how she blends with the surroundings. The weak winter sunlight peering through the cracks of the rocks above them turn her well-worn armour into a gilded silver beacon his eyes track over the roaring river between them.

He feels he should be praying for her safety - and he does, seeing her so certain and defiant of her own fragile mortality; something she has no idea at how precious it feels, only when one has lost its mantle does one truly comprehend the blessing of an ending. Still, Lara jumps and climbs and defeats all obstacles as if it was any other day's menial task, she goes and solves millenia old riddles and puzzles and unlocks mechanisms Jacob has thought their secrets lost to the flow of time and his caged memory.

"Jacob, you've got to see this!"

Her voice breaks through his musings, excitement tilting her accent even sharply. He hides a smile. For all his Faith and history as the Prophet, there is something queerly right in watching her unearthing religious relics and noble heirlooms.

The time of Kitezh has passed long ago, by his own foolish doings. To her, it is a legend, its history a marvel. She walks the ruins with eyes wide in wonder whereas Jacob only sees blood and death and his damnation. He has been idolised by thousands, has lived ostentatiously in clothes of silk, crowned with gold, spreading the words of God, rallying entire cities to his cult. When Kitezh was built he had been King if not in name and had lied and lied and cheated because the Divine Source isn't Divine, but it is Ancient and Knowing and it had ensnared this young greedy man he once had been. And for all his preaching, God forgives him, he had been too weak to end his folly.

There is nothing good in remembering his time amongst those ruins.

Until her that is. Lara waves at him from a miraculously still standing balcony, a golden chalice in the other hand and a smile that would have made entire armies bend the knee in supplication.

"Look at this Jacob. This is from Constantinople! Incredible." She goes on describing more history he has been witness to. Not that he can tell her. The place where his soul should ache and throbs in something that resembles a warning. He thinks of Sofia and Alya and many others lost to time.

He thinks of God and Mercy. He watches Lara bounces her way back amongst sharp rocks scattered amongst treacherous waters, perfect balance, almost a Divine dance. Like a priestess bringing salvation to a sinner, he hopes she can grant him that which he cannot have.

An ending and a respite. Jacob smiles at her, tiny and proud and starts plotting his own downfall.

[happyunbday2u]

Malloy Twins headcannons

- Turk is a minute older - Turk also got the muscle genes while Virgil got the smart genes… at least more then Turk - their first argument was when they were 3 and they both wanted to watch a different kids show - Virgil’s the more sensitive twin, he cried in Titanic - Turk is a nickname his full name is Tuckerman Malloy but he hates it - they like to wrestle for fun - Turk always wins - the reason Rusty knew about them was because another guy who had worked with the twins said they were amazing get away drivers - he didn’t mention the constant arguing - when Danny and Rusty went to recruit them they were arguing, in the middle they were arguing and by the end they were arguing just after agreeing to go to Las Vages - Turk calls Virgil sweetheart because his first girlfriend called him sweetheart and as the twin brother has never let it go - Now he calls anyone sweetheart in his circle of 'I will deny this but I care about them' - If no one noticed he called Danny sweetheart in Ocean's 13 - if someone joins in on one of the twins making fun of the the other, the second the other twin leaves the twin who had just been calling him a ‘dumbass bitch with a brain the size of a ant’ will turn to that someone with the most menacing glare ever - ”listen here you little shit I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but if you says that to my brother again I will run you over with my car” - randomly calls the other stupid pet names both to annoy the other- - “VERMIN!” “TURKEY!” “VIRGIN!” ”TUTU!” "BITCH-" - and for that ‘random moment you decide to be nice to your sibling’ affection - ”… hey Virgie you want McDonalds?” - ”Hey T I got tickets to a Monster Truck Rally wanna come?” - there as never been one time that they haven’t been arguing except for two things: Monster Truck Rallies are awesome and X-Men - They fear nothing... except losing the other. They may argue alot but god forbid anything happens to the other like getting shot in a heist gone wrong or break a bone even if its something small like accidently hurting the other in roughhousing or one accidently cutting themselves while doing dishes - For example one time they were roughhousing and suddenly Virgil yelled out ow and Turk went into full panic mode _ "NOBODY FUCKING MOVE! ARE YOU OKAY!? DID YOU BREAK SOMETHING!?! DO WE NEED TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL!?!?!" - Turns out Virgil just landed on his arm too hard and it was enough to hurt but not break - "Oh thank god..." just tackles him "MOTHERFUCKER YOU MADE ME WORRY-" - No one on the team has let him live it down, they found it adorable of course but it's their job to tease each other

[tumblrisweird]

Operation: REDLINE, a Lancer Campaign

The group I play Lancer with recently finished Dustgrave, and we've decided to swap around who's GMing. I'm up now, so I'm dusting off my worldbuilding skills and making a custom campaign for my group to play.

Last time I made a custom campaign for a TTRPG was one for D&D 5e, like, 8 years ago. I was running it in person, but never finished it. (Side note, I do still wanna go back to it some day.) What I'm saying is that I'm gonna be pretty rusty.

Anyway, I'm gonna go over the details (I've worked out so far) below the cut. If my players somehow find this, beware of spoilers.

<BROADCAST BEGINS>

LOC: "Good morning, racing fans. Welcome to LOC & LOU, your number one source for mech racing. Today we've got something very special for you."

LOU: "Very special is an understatement! This is nothing less than the greatest spectacle you’ve ever seen! I’m talking of course about The Grand Carina Race."

LOC: "While mech races are by no means unusual, this one is special for two reasons. First, instead of being a sprint, it is a marathon across multiple systems throughout the Carina nebula, requiring multiple near-light jumps."

LOU: "That's right! It will be a test not only of speed, but of endurance and teamwork as well. Teams of 2-6 Lancers will accompany an experienced ship pilot on a journey to a far off system and back, encountering all manner of threats and challenges!"

LOC: "The second reason this race is so special is the hosts. The race was created by the elusive and mysterious Voladores of the trade ship Sientelo. They have promised that the winners will have access to all manner of unknown and unique treasures. While there’d be good reason to doubt this claim from anyone else, the Voladores have more than earned their reputation as merchants of the rare and powerful."

LOU: "Slots for racing teams have rapidly filled up, but there is still one open: the hotly contested Wildcard slot! Does your team have what it takes to win the race? Will you even be able to make it in? Gather your team, find a ship, and enter today!"

<BROADCAST ENDS>

Operation: REDLINE (working title) is a two-mission campaign for Lancer. Players (beginning at LL2) will be part of a team hired to be the crew on a ship competing in the biggest race in this arm of the galaxy. They will be riding aboard a a ship with a near-light drive trying to beat several other teams and their ships. As all the ships max out at 0.995 c, the actions the team takes during encounters and narrative scenes will be important to winning the race!

Main inspirations for tone and content are the movie Redline (which the title references) and real life distance races like the Cannonball Run and the Dakar Rally. I will make another post in the future with the session breakdown, as I have it worked out so far.

[angelmelon]

So I was tryna figure out: how would the Younique staff fit into my little story?? Several of the characters have pretty cute looks, I didn’t wanna throw em away or make them terfs

well, solution!! For at least a couple of em, anyway.

reminder that TERFs literally CANNOT ALWAYS TELL that people are trans… they are so often wrong it is comical. A TERF bar could more than likely let in trans women without knowing or batting an eye… in my rewrite, Younique only profiled Ginger, Cherish, and Kaiya because they were so open and proud. Often why TERFs pick us trans folk out to begin with!! If you’re too proud, too open, too showy, they’ll try to take ya down. It sucks, but it’s why I’m so proud to be me. I’m so proud of my transgender siblings, because everyday we face the worst from society, and here we are, still standing.

I did change up Shanzay and Parniya’s styles quite abit… god, you can tell that there’s only *one* kind of lesbian Rusty thinks should exist. The diversity of women is a beautiful thing, and I wanted to show just how differently these two butch lesbians can present themselves, because there is more than one type of butch lesbian. (RUSTY.) People should dress how they’re comfortable, however the amount of characters were supposed to like who have the exact, plain style bothers me. People look different, even those within the same subcultures and similar presentations. I want to highlight that!!

Anyway, on to the character bios!!

Shanzay Binti Meriam!! Malaysian-Australian She/They, Transfeminine lesbian

Shanzay used to go to Younique with her girlfriend Parniya regularly, speaking with other regulars who took no issue with their trans identities. Shanzay is a confident woman who runs women’s martial arts classes with her girlfriend and her mother, Meriam. Unfortunately, after learning of the hateful incident at Younique regarding the GAP gang, Shanzay, Parniya, and several other regulars were horrified to learn of the hateful nature of a staff member of Younique. They took the issue to the owner, only to learn that this is standard behavior for the staff, and that a large majority of the staff are loud and proud transphobes. Shanzay and Parniya felt completely horrified that their less cis passing sisters went through this, not to mention that they had given their patronage to such a hateful business. They rallied many Younique regulars to take their leave, and to give their support to the GAP gang, giving their money to the PayPlease fund that would eventually help the girls open up GAP, their trans friendly nightclub. Shanzay now works for GAP as a bouncer, and is good friends with Kaiya particularly, bonding over their shared pride and love for their families.

Parniya Amira Gallus!! Iranian-Australian She/her, Transfeminine intersex lesbian

Standing at nearly 6’8, being transgender and intersex, and suffering from chemical burns at a young age, Parniya is not a very average looking woman. She is very quiet and mellow, and doesn’t wish to draw much attention to herself. Because of her wallflower nature, it’s no shock that the transphobic staff of Younique looked right past her and her girlfriend Shanzay whenever they walked in. Parniya identifies as a butch lesbian, though she still embraces her feminine side often. After finding out about Younique’s transphobia against the GAP gang, Parniya was particularly shaken. Even after rallying other regulars to leave with her and Shanzay, Parniya doesn’t go out nearly as often anymore. She wears much more makeup now, perhaps in an attempt to pass more, like she believes she will run into Younique staff again. Parniya does remote graphic design for GAP, and as a result is well acquainted with Theodosia, and has quickly become good friends with her. They bond over a shared love of old princess stories, as well as their passion for art and other women.