#The crown is in its own hammock

[circuscountdowns]

unused comic panel I tested coloring on

[fanaticsnail]

Cuddling: Zoro

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

Word Count: 1,600+

Themes: Roronoa Zoro x m!reader, mdni, 18+, smut, NSFW, penetrative sex (Zoro receiving), lazy morning sex, cuddle-fucking, pre-established relationship, love making, feelings, Zoro just wants to be close, saliva mentioned as lubricant.

Notes: I just had a craving for some softness with the man. He needed it.

Nestled against the variety of pillows reinforcing your hammock, a warm arm drew itself over your stomach and tugged you towards the broad slab of muscle behind you. The temperature of his bare skin on your own was overwhelming most of the time.

The green-haired swordsman ran hot, especially after being wrapped in blankets and warmed within their weight for several hours of nightfall. You wriggled gently within his clutches, trying to make yourself comfortable in this new position by extending your knee up to grant you some room to yourself.

“Nmmm-, closer,” Zoro mumbled sluggishly, tugging your body to lay flush with his own again. Expelling a groan from your throat, you put up no fight when he pulled you further within his encumbering embrace.

“Zoro,” you protested verbally, your smile twitching up in the corners, “This is as close as we can physically be. I can feel your heart thundering in my own chest from here.” A small, raspy chuckle rumbled from his throat against the back of your neck.

Both of you were barely awake, feeling the gentle rise and fall of the waves crashing against the hull of the thousand sunny. The sweet gull-song from above felt crafted as your own private symphony alongside the propulsion of the large ship.

Zoro softly drew his lips down to the crown of your head, pressing gentle kisses against each place that found his fancy. A twitch of the morning was found against your ass, causing you to smile as you felt your own rising in your briefs.

“I can get us closer.” Sneaking his hand down over your waist and beneath the elastic, he began softly using his calloused hands against your cock. Beginning at the base, he gently rolled your velvety skin within his palm and fingertips, halting at your sensitive tip, before slowly pumping downwards again.

Rolling your hips in time with his motions, your ass began to grind against his cock. A deep, rumbled groan fled from his throat while he felt his need begin to stain the front of his own briefs with his own precum. You chuckled alongside him, shaking your head before arching your neck back to meet his lips.

Lazy smiles meeting, eyes fluttered closed and both of you began enjoying the feeling of your lover’s hands against your flesh.

Zoro’s arm tucked it's way beneath your neck, finding itself wedged between you and your pillow. You moved your hand beneath his briefs and gently found his cock. Thumbing the slit at the tip of his shaft, you began rolling it in time with the lazy pace Zoro set with your own.

Gasps fled one another’s lips as you continued your barely awake kisses. Zoro and your own hips moved in time to the motions, rising and falling with each roll of the tide. As Zoro’s cock continued to leak of its morning dew, you took some onto the pad of your index finger and slowly drove it down towards his puckered entrance.

Zoro’s brow furrowed as his smile broadened, moving his legs to part to give you more access to his body. Gently tapping at the hole, you gently massaged his balls with your palm before slowly disappearing the tip of your finger into Zoro’s ass.

“That how it is, huh?” he mumbled against your lips, his smile only ever growing as you continued working him open. “Come here.” He nudged your torso, rolling you over in his arms and releasing your cock from his grip.

One arm over your shoulders, the other hooked around the small of your back, he continued mouthing at your lips and gasping as you gently worked his ass open to take you. Your motions were still lazy and slow, every moment drawn out with your embrace being as close as he could possibly make you both.

Removing your finger from his ass, you hooked your thumbs over the waistband of his briefs and pulled them down his large thighs. He rose his knees, rolling them together to kick them off the rest of the distance, leaving him completely bare.

“You next,” he groaned, nudging your thigh with his knee in an indication for you to lose your own briefs. You chuckle at his eagerness, pressing a quick kiss against his lips while hooking your thumbs beneath your own briefs and drawing them down your legs.

Interlacing your thigh within his, your pecs remained flush against his while you began gently grinding your cock against his. Each lazy roll of your hips had Zoro’s groans fleeing from his mouth into yours. Need began pooling in your stomach while you softly rocked your body atop his.

“Want me to suck your cock a bit before-.” Your words were halted by a deeper kiss soldered to your lips like iron to a poker, Zoro simply reaching between you and lining your tip up with his puckered hole.

“Just put it in. I'll be fine.” He attempted to ease your cock in, but you held your hips back and refused to press on.

“Zoro, I'm not going in dry,” you shook your head, moving your lips to his jaw and pressing a soft kiss against his chin. Zoro groaned, gently moving the hand clasped at your waist and used his saliva to pool in the center. Taking ahold of your cock, he pumped your shaft with the added lubrication, causing your breath to hitch and your kiss to morph into a needier bite against his skin.

“This should do it,” he groaned, pressing your tip to his ass once more, “Go on. In. Need to be closer to you.” He eased your cock inside his tight entrance, the ring of muscle expanding while he sucked in a hiss at the intrusion.

Wincing at the tight pinch and stretch of your cock entering his ass, you attempted to soothe him with gentle kisses against his shoulder.

“Should've let me go down on you first, Zoro,” you empathetically reminded him, pressing several slow and soft kisses up against his jaw and cheeks while he took you inside himself. You slowly reached between your bodies, gently rolling his velvety cock within your hands in a bid to put him more at ease and not tense up.

After a moment, his lips parted and he began to huff and pant at the feeling. His cock twitched as he rolled his hips in a bid to fuck himself on your cock, prompting you to softly kiss him lightly against his neck. He swatted your hand away from his cock, reaching down and gripping your ass in his calloused fingers and eagerly tugging your body into him.

“Closer,” he gasped, his voice still clinging to the morning while he shifted his hands back up to hook you into his arms. Your voice crackled and fuzzed out low groans to intertwine with his, just as your thighs were woven in and out of one another's. Zoro's knee bent up and butterflied out to the side while you lazily rocked your hips to lie flush with his.

Chest to chest, stomach to stomach, your lips continued to find his while the morning sun cascaded through the curtains. Your abs rolled Zoro’s cock up and down in time with your languid thrusts. Wrapping your arms around the middle of his chest, you both felt as flush as you could be with one another.

The blankets clung to your ass, only a barely-there, soft movement rocked the two of you. If anyone should enter your shared quarters, they would simply assume your bodies were just moving to the subtle rock and swell of the waves. Your tip brushed with Zoro’s prostate, causing him to whimper a little in your mouth while his lips found yours once more.

Zoro’s hips began rolling softly in time with your thrusts, both of you feeling your need begin to rise and swell in your the pit of your stomach. While your bodies both desperately wanted to give in and buck wildly to use one another to sate the other’s need, the desire to be close with one another took over.

Always gentle, always soft, your motions were as close with one another as you could be while you stole this moment together. As your needs overcame you, there was nothing more than an extra swell and grind of your hips against Zoro’s.

Clutching you ever tighter into himself, he ushered you just that little bit faster by means of his own hips. You got the hint, feeling your release edge ever closer.

Lips never leaving one another's, Zoro groaned softly into your mouth while you picked up your pace, your stomach grinding against his cock the longer you thrust into him. Zoro’s balls sucked up into his stomach, feeling his abs tighten as his thighs shook with reaching the pinicle of his high.

“Mmmgh-,” he muffled against your lips, desperately clutching at you while you continued to hit that deep, spongy point within his body, “Gonna cum-...”

"Cum for me, Zoro," you groaned, stealing his breath and clutching him tighter against you, "Not far behind you."

Nodding while your lips mouthed at his skin, you continued your actions, keeping your pace the same while you felt your own need fizz within your abdomen. With a soft cry out, Zoro’s cock spurted his release between your bodies. He bucked his hips a little with yours, providing friction to his cock while his ass contracted around your own.

With his release causing him to clench his puckered entrance around your shaft, you met him in his bliss with your own. Grunting into his lips, you bucked into him while your desire for the swordsman met its peak.

Slowly rolling and riding through your high, you stilled your motions after you felt the final wave of lust flee from you. Buried within his body, you made to pull away your cock to only feel trapped by his leg pinning your own.

“Just stay like this a minute, would you?” Zoro whispered, pressing his lips to your temple and rubbing soft circles against your back with the pads of his thumbs. “Wanna be close like this. Stay.”

"You and your closeness," you rolled your head to place your chin on his larynx, "Close enough for you?"

"Yeah, this is good." He smiled down at you, his eyes creasing up at the corners.

With a final press of your lips to his chin, bodies still joined with one another, both of you softly whispered out the other’s name with your affection rolling easily off your tongues.

“I love you.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @jadeddangel

🎶 Happy Birthday to Me🎶

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

[celestialprincesse]

more 141 summer/vacation stuff?

I love them your honour🫡💖

The sky turns a vibrant orange as it settles over the foamy ripple of the water, the air warm and soft as it dances across your skin, goosebumps rippling in its wake. John is already settling a thin blanket over your shoulders, making you hum happily in response, a sound which has him dropping a little kiss to the salty hair at the crown of your head.

Gaz settles on the porch swing at your side, a hairbrush and clip in his hand despite the countless times you've told him that he doesn't need to do that, and that you can wrangle your salty mane yourself, he's insistent. With gentle hands he gathers up your hair into sections, moving one over your shoulder with a chaste kiss to the back of your neck as he begins brushing through his current section with gentle deftness, humming along to the song you've got playing quietly through the little speaker Johnny got you for Christmas last year. "Never would've pegged you for a Lana fan." You murmur lowly, leaning your head back into his touch. "You play this album all day every day - s' like Schrodingers cat." "You mean Pavlov's dog?" You laugh brightly, shoulders jostling with the motion. "Yeah, whatever."

"What's got you two havin' a laugh?" Simon's voice makes you turn your head back to the entrance of the house, where he leans against the doorframe with an unopened whiskey bottle and some precariously balanced glasses. "Psychology major over here." Kyle huffs, giving your hair a little tug as Simon places the bottle and glasses down on the table and Johnny comes along onto the porch afterwards with a makeshift ice bucket that has you giggling, a sound which stirs something in all of them. "Ice?" Simon, who's shed his balaclava in the heat, looks up at you as you nod, decanting some ice into your glass and pouring two fingers of whiskey into the crystal before handing it over.

You don't even realise he's done with your hair until Gaz is pulling you into his side, hooking his arm around your shoulders whilst Simon lifts your legs up and places them down on his own, absently tracing patterns into your skin which remains uncovered by the denim of your shorts.

Johnny settles himself on the hammock strung up between the supports of the porch, removing his travel sketchbook from where it resides in his pocket and turning to look at you, Simon and Kyle curled contentedly up with one another, observing every little detail from the way Simon brings his cigarette up to your lips when you look at it, to the way Kyle runs his fingers through your hair.

Soon enough, John is also on the porch with a cigar case and his own drink, settling on one of the other porch chair and looking at the lot of you with a quiet sort of love you all reserve just for each other.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Got halfway through this before deleting it because there was too much potential for it to be platonic 😛

[heartfullofleeches]

Hey did you ever end up posting that yandere plants one with the bee reader and I missied it?? Was looking forward to that one

(I have not. A drable for you, chief)

The queen has requested another harvest.

What impeccable timing.

Climbing from rubble and frayed vines, vegetation and ash falls from your hair and shoulders. Extra care is put into your wings as you brush them off for the flight ahead. Held by a loose spine, you blow the decades of dust off your new find - kicking spray particles into the air. Through water eyes you read the books cover - fuzzy tension building at the base of your nose.

It's another picture book.

They're going to love this one-

"Ahh... Achoo!... 'Cuse me."

Apologizing to the thin air around you, you unhook the fine straps of your satchel and toss the book inside. You turn your gaze to the hole in the ceiling as your wings flutter, feet kick-starting your ascent as you rise. The mellowed glow of the fog casted sun greets you first as you exit; a jungle of greenery and constructs waiting the earth below and as far as the eye could see. You climb up onto the ledge of the building and leap off into a nose dive for the ground - wings swooping into mobility before your body hits the trees. Flying lose did have its risks, but nothing beats the floral air in your hair when heading home - reminding you of those counting on your return.

Scouting the known galaxy for resources, your crew landed on this planet in a time you no longer recall accurately. Overtaken by plants of all variety, it seemed like the perfect harvest - until it wasn't. As unaccounted cargo, you were sparred the horrors they faced at the hands of the planet's few remaining natives. Asleep during the bloodbath you woke crowd by the new inhabitants of this land - sentient creatures grown from rich soil and crimes against anatomy.

Their creators feared what they had created and went to war destroying what they had birthed with their own hands - wiped out in the end by their superior strengths and numbers. Despite this carnage, they were a peaceful race and tried to rescue your crew, but failed. Finding your journals tucked into your sleeping arms they enlisted your aid as a florist in the upkeep of what remains of their home in exchange for their pollen and a roof over your head.

Base in sight, you speed through the thick fog in your descent to its open doors. A planetarium with an open ceiling has come your home in this time. You missed your comfy bed, but a hammock under the stars surrounded by those you now held dear was just as nice. You enter the building, breath fleeing as your snatched from behind. Not a step through the door and you're suspended in the air at the waist by hanging vines.

"And just where have you been, my sneaky little pest?"

Thorn-like claws grace your cheek, curving up to the crown of your head where they cautiously prod at your sensitive antennae. Amused, they chitter in delight as you struggle in your blinds - most likely held by another member of the collective. Beyond the palms of their woven hands, this one was covered near entirely in stained prickles. Violet petals spiked from the upper half of their hair and draped over their mocking grin

"You know you aren't allowed to leave without a guide. What ever would we do if our heart was taken by those savages, hm? I think a punishment is in order, don't you?"

"Seems so if they can't obey simple rules. With that lovely picture on knot tying they brought us the other day, I'm sure we can get up to lots of fun before the others figure out where we are."

Lowered closer to the floor, strong arms embrace you from behind and lead your head against their chest. Small, hanging buds sprouted up the lengths of their arms mark their class - their reddish yellow hue staking their typing. Cooing ever so cloyingly sweet in your ear, it rubs the humanoid half of its face against your cheek.

"You were scheduled to start the day with us. Don't you love us anymore? We may not be as approachable at the others, but we adore you all the same."

You swallow hard, trapped between a wall and thorns. "Thistle.... Honeysuckle.. but I can never find you two."

"But we're always watching. Can't let you get into trouble. Or pick a favorite. If you accept us as your guards for the rest of the week maybe we'll let you go. If not...."

The vines tighten around your hips - released almost instantly as they're snipped by an unseen party. You stumble forward, caught and picked up by another pair of arms.

"What have I told you two about picking on them? One more time and I'm sending you both to the greenhouse.... Are you alright, darling?"

Bright as the golden sun, their petals almost blind you as you look up. The leader, and the first floral creature you met - Marigold was your sworn protector even from those with you in their care. A strict, yet understanding calm to the storm life in the compound was. As they set you down, Thistle scoffs.

"Always the spotlight stealer. Would you keep it down before the others realized they've returned?"

It's a bit too late for that.

"Y/n? Y/n back?!"

"Oh, I was so worried I fear I may start wilting!"

"Y/n, Y/n! We have a ripe patch of peaches for you!"

From the shadows of the trees and handmade structures comes the entire horde. They push through each other getting to you and overwork your brain with their chatter. Over a dozen bodies crowded around your lone figure. Through the sea, the shortest of them swims through the crowd and manages their way up to you - head centered at your navel. Head cocked, they seem to be staring to your lips.

"Cuckoo? Is everything alright?"

They smile. Grabbing your shirt, you're bent forward into an open mouth kiss. All the commotion ceases immediately as a wave of surprises washes over them all. Patting the walls of your cheeks their segmented tongue, Cuckoo only pulls away when they're torn from you. Lifting the smaller flower by its shoulders, Thistle clenches their teeth tight.

"What on earth was that?"

The question was genuine. None of them were fully traversed in the act of kissing beyond brief tellings in the books you brought to learn more about the planet left behind for them. Agriculture and construction were common reads, but if they got lucky you'd find old story books, comics and novels. Cuckoo holds up a page from one of those very stories - the couple displayed entangled in a heat of passion with lips locked. Heads staring over their shoulder snap in your direction. You'd used the direction to scramble away and travel further into their lair.

"I wanna try..."

Even Marigold couldn't save you now. Taking advantage of your gift of flight, you dart into the air aiming for the second floor where your bedroom stood.

"I would love to help you all, but I need to get started on my letter for my queen. She has requested more pollen, and I wasn't able to get one out in the last run. As soon as it's out of the way, I can come back and we can - Ah!"

Fashioning a lasso from their vines, you're dragged down into the frenzy with no escape in the near future. As is your life with the horde.

-

A queen sits alone on her throne. Letter opener gripped in her palm, she stabs it though her throne as the words describing your escapade slash through her heart. Stomping the battered floor, her veil of submission cracks.

"This has gone on for too long. My garden is in shambles and so will this kingdom until their return."

The servant at her feet keeps their voice low. "My queen... Their service there is doing quite the opposite. Our reserves are at maximum capacity and with the treaty there's no need for war and needless casualties. I know of your bond and I am sorry for your lost."

Like an arrow, the queen's dagger rips through the air and anchors in the wall behind the servant. Golden blood beads in a line across their cheek. Unbridled rage and disgust seeps from her icy glare like poison. She refuses to look directly in their eye, staring off at the shoulders behind them.

"Get. This. Traitor- OUT. RIP THEIR WINGS AND LEAVE THEM FOR DEAD. if they aren't on my wall by dawn, I will take yours as payment."

Eyes wide, the servant lunges for her robes as the guards take their arms. "My lady, please! You cannot do this! I was trying to make things better! Y/n will never forgive you!"

She spits.

"And cut out their tongue."

Screams echoing down the halls, the queen curls up in her throne - clutching the pillow you kept every night and the flower you sent in your distress. Her sweet idiot of a bumblebee. Why did you have to run off? Sure she was stressed, but with her prized florist and sweet little bumblebee she could've conquered the universe. Someday you'll be in her arms and garden again - laughing the night and dawn away.

Someday

[tojigasm]

Cute things Jake does with you ♡♡

♡ Sometimes, the two of you will wander around the forest, Jake pointing out wildlife to you to watch you smile in excitement, stroking a hand down the dip of your back while you continue on. The two of you sometimes find little opening patches of grass among the forest floor, settling down among the flowing grass to relax in the ambiance of your home. You'll rest in the sun, tail swinging gently and ears relaxed against your hair, twitching ever so slightly as you hear Jake maneuver around next to you. When you wake, he's running his hand over your shoulder softly, not to wake you but just in a comfort. The touch pulls you into him as you sit up, the grass flowing against your skin softly. "Made this fr'you," his ears fall back bashfully as he holds up a folded flower crown, multicolored flowers and grass strewn among the vine of it. Immediately you're sequealing, sitting up onto your knees and dipping your head for him to put it on. He does so with a smile, chuckling at your excitement of the gift. You jump around, giggling and thanking him before sitting back down, pulling his hands into your lap, "teach me, I wanna make you to one too!" And you best believe he wore the flower crown you made for him until it fell apart.

♡ When the two of you are walking together, whether it be throughout the forest, across the roots that spread out across the sky, or near the abandoned base camp, Jake will always hold your hand. Massaging your knuckle and kissing your cheek ever so often as you both wander along. Almost always, his tail will find its way to your own, stroking the length of your own before linking your tails together. When ever your tails do link together, he always squeezes your hand, and you can sometimes catch his ears fall back <333

♡ When Jake rides his Ikran, Toruk, or Bob, he'll pull you up to sit in front of him on the saddle. Holding you by the waist and kissing your cheek ever so often, "you're so pretty," he'll whisper, stroking his hand on your hip softly.

♡ Jake will always be gentle with you when the two of you bond, either keeping a hand at the base of your neck and placing your foreheads to one another or squeezing the soft of your hand when doing so. Once the two of you make the bond, he shivers and sighs softly, "You feelin' okay?" <3333

♡ At night, Jake loves to rub your ears. Massaging the tips or petting at the base of them, he does it mostly because of how easily it brings you into a deep slumber, curled up beside him and tail linked with his own.

♡ Jake adores your nose. Sometimes, he'll walk right up to you while you're cutting fruit, squat down, and place a kiss on your nose and then go right back to whatever he was doing beforehand. He's learned not to boop or squeeze your nose though, last time he did that, you hissed and tried to bite him

♡ At night, when you can't sleep, he'll tell you stories about Earth, about the mountains and the animals there, and his brother. You'll sometimes ask him if he ever misses it, if he wish he could go back, and he always shakes his head, "why would I go back, I have everything I could ever want right here." Tickling your ribs softly. <33

♡ He really likes to bring you cool rocks he finds when he returns from hunts, calling you over to your hammock, "y/n, c'mere, wanna show you something." You'll sit beside him near the fire and watch as he puts different rocks down in front of you, explaining why he likes each one. "I want you to have this one because it's a pinkish blue, and It reminded me of you." You keep the rock and have it put together with your clothing so that you always have it <3

♡ Jake will literally pull your tail to get your attention. He's done it once, and it didn't end well. And he'll continue to do it because it's so tempting for him.

[hyukassubi]

🪡 16 | Booty So Big That Bed Broke But That Letter Got His Heart Broke-n

♡𓂃 Pairing -> (Former) Knight! Huening Kai x Seamstress! Reader

♡𓂃 Synopsis -> Growing up, you never believed in purpose, nor destiny. Simply following the path of life, becoming a royal seamstress didn't at all seem like a bad idea. Only thing is, it wasn't your idea.

Your best friend who just so happens to be the crowned prince knows what it's like to grow up having limited choices, and Prince Kang Taehyun doesn't want the same happening to you. The commander knight, in turn, has other plans for the future. After Huening Kai closes a profound chapter of his life, he seeks refuge from the chaos of his past, opting for a cozier lifestyle instead.

... And it just so seems that those plans wouldn't be fulfilled without you.

♡𓂃 Wc -> 1,312

Forget your tasks.

Forget your pending assignments.

Forget your fashion projects and orders from the Queen.

That night, no needle nor thread came between the tines of your fingers.

Instead, on your bedside, drenched in a milk-white nightgown and blue fleeced cardigan, exuding the highest forms of hot girl behaviour you possibly could that cold winter night… you put your feather pen to work, a trail of words falling right behind it…

Huening Kai was toast. Not literally.

He spent a tiring eighteen hours of capturing their first dragon, only to realize it was the offspring of a much larger, much more sinister mommy dragon…

“You know, I didn’t expect the mother to look so…” Yeonjun tossed half a bag of hot cocoa over a jug of warm milk. “… actually, I shouldn’t say anything. If there’s a mother, there should be a father too, right? I may be a flirt but I do not condone to homewrecking because homewrecking is not hot, not cool, at all.” Yeonjun filled a rusty mug up with hot chocolate. “Here, help yourself.”

Huening Kai slumped over his air-mattress-sleeping-bag contraption.

It popped at the weight of his cheeks.

Huening Kai’s left eye twitched.

He grabbed the hot cocoa from Yeonjun’s hand. “Thank you.”

Yeonjun was fighting between feeling sorrowful for his commander or bursting into tears (not from sadness). “You can sleep on my bed tonight. I’ll buy you a hammock first thing in the morning.”

Huening Kai slurped a good chunk of that not-so-well-mixed hot cocoa. “Saving me from that ‘only one bed’ trope, I see.”

Yeonjun felt genuine concern for his commander.

Before saying anything, there was a thump at the front of their tent.

Every single knight within the vicinity audibly flung their swords out.

Yeonjun blinked twice.

He set his own hot cocoa down, zipping open the tent. “Hello?”

A blue robin pecked at the tent. In its feet, an envelope.

Yeonjun took the letter from the kind bird, wishing it a good night and a better tomorrow, winking at it, or at least trying his best to.

The blue robin flew away.

And all the other knights were back to sleeping in their little yellow tents. Maybe. Maybe not.

Yeonjun hummed upon staring at the envelope, pacing around the tent mindlessly. “Hmm… It’s from the castle.” He passed the sheet of paper to his Commander Knight. “Says its for the eyes of Kai Kamal Huening and Kai Kamal Huening only. I think it's important.”

“If it’s from the castle, it should be important.” Huening Kai ripped open the envelope and…

Stained paper, raunchy cursive scrawled upon every line like a boat on the surface of calm waters.

A letter.

A letter with your handwriting.

… Hello Hyuka,

It’s Y/n, and, I’m sure I’m not the first person that came to mind when you received this letter but hey, it’s me. I know last time things didn’t go too well, and we were clouded by emotion to really think straight about what we were saying anyway but that moment in your bungalow was real, and what we felt was real, guttural, even.

I honestly don’t know what I’m saying right now either, hehe. Point is, I wanted to write to you, because I want us to be okay again. I know we won’t be able to see each other for some time. For a long time. But I don’t want to keep things stiff and awkward for too long now, and… yeah. How’s… everything? I mean, I hope everything’s going well. I hope you’re doing okay. Tired, for sure. Drained, even.

But I know there’s nothing you can’t handle, after all, I’ve seen the way you fought so so many times. I’ve been feeling a little out of it too, honestly, but that’s okay! Because I know I will be okay, and you will too.

Is there anything I can help you with, though? Is it cold there? Do you need earmuffs or a sweater? I’ll sew a puffy hoodie if you’d like, or… is there anything on your mind that you want to talk about? I’m here for it, I’m here for you. I could send over my mom’s cookies, I know you’d love them. My dad’s currently restocking some flowers, business hasn’t been doing too well since it’s snowing. Is it too much? I can send them one at a time so it feels like you get a gift everyday :) As much as I want you to stay strong throughout the whole journey, I want you to stay happy, too, above all else.

And if you’re ever feeling low, just know that you have me, that you get to talk to me and I get to talk to you and, yeah, ink and paper isn’t the same but it’s what we’ve got and I really don’t want to lose touch with you, not completely. I apologize for writing such a cluttered letter :’))) I know it seems all over the place, because I am all over the place, but, yeah, stay safe out there, slay a dragon, get some rest, stay strong, you got this, um. Love you lots <3333333333

Kindest regards, your biggest fan and one and only true friend who coincidentally knows how to knit a Christmas stocking or two.

…

“…”

“… Kai? Commander? I don’t mean to rush you but it’s been half an hour and your eyes are looking kinda red.”

Huening Kai had to re-read that letter at least a good thirty-eight times.

“It must be serious, is it?” Yeonjun poked up from his air mattress, because, yes, he’s used up the time for skincare, changing into his pajamas, a good tune on his kalimba, a self-portrait session, a stretch routine, a vacation to the Bahamas— “Do we have more intell on the dragon? Did the King disband the mission? Kai Kamal Huening you’re actually killing me right now. Do we have to—”

“No… no. It’s not from… him.”

Yeonjun didn’t take any more time to connect the dots, puzzle the pieces, light the bulbs. “Oh my God oF COURSE IT’S GOTTA BE THAT SEAMSTRESS CHIC!”

Huening Kai physically jumped off his deflated air-mattress. “STOP SCREAMING!” Huening Kai screamed.

“I’M NOT SCREAMING.” Yeonjun jumped over to his side and tugged at his shoulders.

“WHY ARE WE—” A huff. A breath. A twelve second meditation session. “Okay. okayokayokayokayokay. Alright.”

“Commander be spitting bars.”

Huening Kai shrugged his shoulders, getting his fellow knight off of him, looking to where his pillow was at, lying down. “I’m hyperventilating, okay? Wait no actuallyI’mnothyperventilating I’m okay just… give me some time alone.” He turned to the side fetal position and draped a blanket over his body all in one go, eyes screwed to the sheet of paper.

At times like these, Yeonjun could not believe he’s a Commander Knight.

But it was cute.

He was cute.

Yeonjun smirked, going back to his own bed, thankful Huening Kai had forgotten about their previous trade offer. “Alright sweet cheeks, good night.” He did not mean that literally.

And at some point, in the middle of the night, like, ten minutes after they’ve talked, Yeonjun looked up at the window of their tent, closed, but not blackout shut. “You know, it’s nice knowing our Commander Knight has a safe person he can smile and giggle about.”

Huening Kai blinked away, disrupted after his forty-fifth re-read. “Is that a bad thing?”

Yeonjun did not answer, not directly. “There are so many people out there who care about you, Kai. I don’t wanna list them all down right now but even if you don’t think a whole lot of people care about you, you got your seamstress buddy on your side and that’s… absolutely a good thing.”

♡𓂃Tags: @sweetheartsaku @imcringebutimfree @i-like-to-read-at-4am @pengningie @marloree @stormy1408 @blossommi

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Reblog & review if you like my work !!

[ccghastly]

you got me curious! What are your headcanons for the citadels towers? or do you have any really niche hcs?

Mad Max Fury Road Headcanons

Hi Anon! Thank You SO MUCH for asking! It really does mean a lot to me. To answer this I'm gonna have to go on a bit of a rant, as I've thought about this too much and have put far too much detail into these particular headcanons. I'm also gonna be answering this back-to-front.

I hope that's okay.

War Boys and Bedrooms

(I really didn't mean for that title to look so much like an innuendo, but I'm not mad about it)

We're starting with the Niche Stuff cause I think it's a bit more interesting and fun to read.

Most Warboys sleep in The Pit, the lowest level of the second tower.

In the early days, when there was less space, it was tradition for crews to carve and dig out the walls, making their own alcove to claim. This has largely fallen out of practice, as the turn over rate of the warboys leads to there almost always being empty alcoves to claim. Infighting over alcoves that are considered 'the best’ remains rampant. 

Warboys are also known to carve out personal nooks just about anywhere the wall depth allows, rules were quickly implemented about what walls can and cannot be carved into, to prevent the citadel from coming down around their ears. To circumvent uncarvable walls, Warboys will embed hooks into the walls or ceiling to securely suspend beds and platforms, building these nests absolutely everywhere. 

Imperator alcoves are called ‘grottos’. They’re among the highest levels of the second tower, have windows, multiple rooms, bedding, and direct access to aquacola.

The Coma-Doof Warrior was granted his own Den as a reward from Immortan for his singular talents, at his own request most of his rooms are open to the sky(for premium sunbathing), with many hammocks of varying sizes strung up in every room. His rooms have the same amenities as an Imperator's Grotto and are connected to a smaller lower floor that he arranged to be given to his Drummers and crew.

Warboys commonly bunk in alcoves with their crew, in nooks within the dorms that are unofficially separated by role, in a personal nook/nest, (rarely)in their imperator’s grotto, or in an alcove with their friends allies.

The general opinions of the warboys on the bunks goes, from least cushy chrome to most: Nest, Nook, Alcove(commonly just ‘Cove’), Grotto, Den, Trove(Immortan&sons rooms), Vault(the wives)

Now onto the more nitty-gritty stuff!

The Citadel: Towers, Levels, and Floors

In my headcanon the towers of the Citadel are organized into Levels and Floors, typically with multiple floors making up each level. Every level and some floors are named, ostensibly for ease of reference, but mostly for my amusement. Each rank of person in the Citadel is separated into a different level within the towers. We'll go tower by tower.

The Levels of the First Tower of Citadel, listed highest to lowest(with named floors):

The Garden

The Crown(Vault, Trove(Immortan&Sons), Gallery/Balcony)

Immortan’s Court(Parlour(milkers), Aviary(high breeders))

The Levels of the Second Tower of Citadel, listed highest to lowest(with named floors):

The Greenery

The Doof Den(Coma-Doof's rooms, Drummers Alcove)

The Grottos(Prime's Grotto, Furiosa's Grotto, etc)

The Court(Nursery(cubs), Roost(damis), Abbey(low breeders))

The Kennels(pups)

The Shops(Wheel Shrine, Blood Bank, Organic-Mechanic/Bloodshed, Garage, TradeHaul)

The Lift(the floor that is the lift’s main stop, which is its own level)

The Pit(Wreck(recreation), Mess(cafeteria), Clay Pools, Dorms, Alcoves)

The Third Tower

Staffed by and home to lifted wretched and a few full-lifes to manage them, it contains:

The Kitchens,

The Mill & Mill-rats,

Waste-Workers,

Plumbers,

Tannery & Tanners,

GateKeepers rooms,

Etc.

(are you meant to give 'etc' its own bulletpoint? I've no clue)

I hope all that makes sense. If anyone has any questions I'd be more than happy to answer them!

[meganechan05]

...My Writer Brain is the worst... ( ；∀；)

The Choice Made That Day

Rita/Morfonia (+HimeRita Friendship)

Description: A choice was made. But what was the cost?

Spoilers for King-Ohger Episode 28. Based off of Episode 29's Preview. Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Hurt/No Comfort

[Would I put this on AO3? ...I dunno. I kinda don't want to bc it's painful and i already added 2 Angsty chapters to the J&B collection today...]

Gloved hands placed the crown on her head. "I'll leave Gokkan to you, Morfonia."

She shook her head as her King started to walking away. "Wait... Wait! Rita! Don't go!"

Morfonia reached for the air in front of her as she sat up in her bed, only to find herself in her room.

She grabbed her glasses and got out of bed, running out into the halls of Zaiban Castle.

"Ah. Supreme Justice."

She ignored the calls. She's not Supreme Justice. She's not.

She ran towards the end of a hallway, opening the door. "Rita?!"

She stopped when all she found was what once was Rita Kaniska's personal office. Cleared of books and documents as all that was left was the furniture. The only sign that it was once the former King's office was the large Moffun plush seated on the sofa, gazing back towards the new King.

Take care of Moffun for me, okay?

She walked over to the large plush, taking a seat next to it before burying her face in its soft fur. Tears began to stain it as she cried.

"You idiot..."

~

Rita gazed up at the ceiling of the abandoned warehouse, swinging on the webbed hammock. They were surprised at how comfortable it was and felt grateful of Jeramie to make one for all of the former Kings. Not exactly the first time they slept on anything but their own bed. Something they were often chastised for.

Mou! You need to sleep better or it'll be more work for me!

They felt their heart clench at the reminder of Morfonia. They couldn't help but to wonder if she's okay. Sure, Gokkan was fine the past few years, but only because there wasn't an enemy to fight and no danger coming to the planet and the people.

Morfonia can defend herself, but she wasn't a fighter. Rita knew she could take on Gokkan's Neutrality, but to fight to protect the people would be hard for her. Especially now when the former Kings were forced to take the Calibers with them by orders of the new Kings. Without the power of the Shugods, the new Kings wouldn't be able to defend themselves like they can.

"Oi. Former Judge. Mind coming down?"

They craned their neck to look down to find Yanma and Himeno.

"We need to discuss some plans and need a mediator," Himeno said," You're still holding onto that impartiality, aren't you?"

Rita sighed before climbing down, grabbing a web twisted into a rope to slide down to the ground level. They stuffed the small Moffun they had into their jacket before joining the others.

"We left our countries to them to protect everyone! We can't just have whoever joins us fight our people!" Gira argued," Fight each other, especially!"

"Not like we have a choice. They're good, but not enough to stop a war if our people begin acting out against each other," Yanma muttered," Having those bugs up there interfere only makes it harder."

"Well we have to do something," Jeramie said," It took over two years for humans to accept Bugnarok as fellow people, but we know there are some that are against us. I cannot allow a war between two sides again."

"Kaguragi. You still have spies loyal to you, right?" Himeno asked.

"Whatever shall you mean?" Kaguragi asked, feigning innocence.

"We have no time for deceptions," Rita said," We need the truth for the sake of our people whether it's for our countries or others'."

Kaguragi sighed, hearing the anger in the Judge's voice. "While they are loyal to me, they are also loyal to the throne. Kuroda can't do anything for me now that I've made him Lord and everyone answers to him. But they have told me there are many all over the globe willing to help us take down the Galactinsects as a Resistance."

Rita's hold on their Caliber tightened. "Resistance?"

"Only be name so far depending on development. Especially if the enemy has someone with a mind-controlling ability that caused this mess."

"That's true. They were all controlled so the enemy will attempt that once again," Himeno said," They're playing with this planet like a game. What knows what that monster will do?"

Rita felt their heart clenching again.

"Then Gokkan needs to be a priority," they said.

"Heh?" "What?"

"Surprised to hear you say that, Former Supreme Justice," Jeramie said," May I inquire your reasoning?"

Rita tightly held their Caliber. "While all countries have their role in maintaining peace between the people, everything must be overlooked by international law to maintain fairness. If they take over Gokkan first, there's a high chance in chaos. Unfit people becoming rulers, regulations that show bias. Even a possible war."

"That's true. Taking down the country that keeps trouble out of each other's streets and protecting everyone would only make things harder for the others to control," Gira said," I think Morfonia once said that everyone there is a criminal or once was. If they were manipulated into a prison break or something, it could mean a lot of trouble."

"But we can't exactly barge right in," Yanma said," Gokkan's an impenetrable fortress in the middle of nowhere. And we obviously can't rely on the Shugods to fly us in." He looked to Rita. "You know it best. But how we get there will take time."

Rita kept their gaze to the ground, knowing he's right. "I'll figure something out. Our main concern requires resources."

The meeting continued on, discussing priorities and positioning spies should they be able to recruit any. Rita tried not to zone out, their mind wandering back to Gokkan.

They went back to their hammock once finished, needing space. They grabbed onto the rope when a hand rested on their shoulder. "What?"

"You miss her, don't you?"

"That doesn't matter."

"I think it does."

They were pulled into a turn, facing Himeno. "That's not part of the discussion," they said, their tone warning her to leave them alone.

"You're not King anymore. Which means you shouldn't hold yourself to Absolute Neutrality. While you're right about the world falling into further chaos without Gokkan's laws and regulations, we all know very well who their main target would be. If everyone in Gokkan are convicts or ex-convicts under your rule, then-"

She was cut off by a stressed yell from Rita.

Rita knew she was right. They knew everyone in Gokkan hated them. All Gokkan Kings were hated. That was why they were worried now that the title has officially been passed down.

They knew criminals wouldn't find their sentences just even if it was. They would take any opportunity to take down the Kings when they had the chance.

Rita knew ever since they took the throne. Of the horrors they faced. Of those who would attempt to attack them in and out of court had those working for them didn't interfere or they didn't train for such moments.

Morfonia wasn't ready for that. She wasn't ready for the true horror of being the Supreme Justice.

But they couldn't say anything. They didn't have a right to. Not anymore. Especially now when all of the former Kings were sent into exile after stepping down.

They felt a pair of arms around them, accompanied by faint floral perfume.

"It's okay to be worried for her. It's okay to cry for her, too, Rita. That's why we agreed on protecting Gokkan first. Morfonia will understand... I promise... So don't hold back for her sake."

Rita felt their body trembling at her words. Like a dam bursting after seventeen years of bottling up their emotions to be the strong King Gokkan needed to stay afloat.

They crumpled to their knees as Himeno held them, tears running down their face but unable to let out a sob. Their hands tightly held Himeno's arms to keep themself grounded as they shook.

All that could be heard in that building were the faint sniffles from the judge. No one willing to stop them.

No one wanted them to for their sake.

[noblebs]

The drip, drip of water off stalactites echoes from miles deeper in the tunnels, achingly loud in Orion's ears compared to its own shuffling footsteps. The oil lamp in its hand drives the shadows into a frenzy, jumping between the crevices and pockets in the rock. Orion keeps its eyes forward and hurries down the declining passage until the walls fall away around it. The chamber is too wide and deep for the light to catch any hint of an end, though the ceiling still hangs unevenly no more than 10 feet above the ground, so low in some places that even Orion's mother Aries has to duck. It walks far enough into the cave that it can't see the tunnel it came through, stranded in the deepest dark, then sets its lamp on the ground, reaches its arms straight up, and calls in the most miserable, sniffling voice it can muster, "Lacerta?"

At first, only its echo responds. Then a distant scuffling, the dull click and scrape of arched claws across stone. In the furthest, dimmest reaches of the lamp, the ceiling undulates—a camouflaged back finding shape before the creature crawls upside down toward Orion. Once overhead, a long limb stretches down, reaching with spindly finger-like appendages to scoop it off the floor. A series of leather straps and buckles sling across Lacerta's chest and right limb, so Orion can hammock in the folds of his wing without straining the delicate skin or risking a fall. It cradles there and curls its arms around Lacerta's long neck. "Oh, child," his raspy voice coos, "What is the matter?"

"Augustine." Its voice trembles with the effort not to begin crying again. "Fornax and Aries said I can't see her anymore."

A rumble punctuated with soft clicks emanates from Lacerta's body and vibrates through Orion, a familiar comfort. "Ah. I'm afraid that's not their fault. She was old, my little changeling."

"I'm not a changeling!" it protests, a knee-jerk indignation that breaks through its grief. Lacerta kisses the crown of its head. It furrows its brow. "You are much older than Augustine, but I can see you all the time."

"It's different for humans. Faerie doesn't sustain their bodies like it does ours." Lacerta reaches their hindlimb down to pick up the oil lamp and hands it to Orion. "Augustine lived here a terribly long time, longer than she would have on the human side, but there is nothing your mother or parent or even I could have done to keep her."

It sniffs. "But I miss her already."

"I know." Lacerta folds their wing to hold Orion closer. "Your heart is far more tender than even Fornax's ever was. Ze and Aries have learned, each in their own ways, how to protect themselves from the heartbreak of living alongside mortality. You will have to do the same."

"What about you?" Orion holds tight to its straps as Lacerta creeps forward, worming between stalactites and natural pillars.

He hums, considering his words. "I have been under this mountain a very long time. I don't remember my last loss, but I still feel it. It will never leave me alone entirely."

"Then Aries and Fornax found you," Orion chips in, eager to show off what it's gleaned from stories and eavesdropping alike. "And now you have me. You'll always have us, Lacerta."

Lacerta smiles at it, but their beady black eyes avoid its gaze, and the gentle resignation in their voice makes Orion cling tighter to listen to the fading rumble in their chest. "Loss is inextricable from love. Many fae convince themselves they are immune to loss, but our time, however long, is finite, just as it is for humans. But we all are better for having loved just the same, so I treasure my ghosts. Do you understand?" Toward the back of the cavern, a narrow tunnel snakes further down into the depths, too low for large upright creatures to fit through without getting on hands and knees. Lacerta can flatten themself enough to wriggle in, and Orion is still small. Here at the mouth of the tunnel, a nest of blankets, toys, and spare lantern oil await it—a hideaway deep in Lacerta's domain.

"But it doesn't have to be like that, does it?" it argues as it climbs out of its harness. "Aries and Fornax are powerful, they could find a way to keep Augustine with me if they really wanted to. They just don't care enough, that's what you said."

Alarm flashes across Lacerta's face, and Orion braces itself for a stern warning. "Orion," he sighs, and his forlorn tone is somehow worse than anger. "It's not a matter of whether we can, or even want to. We shouldn't. To even try would have consequences beyond imagining." He twists and dismounts from the ceiling to curl around Orion's makeshift bed and shelter it against the cool damp. "Better to cherish what time you have with those you love. And someday, when you are older, the forgetfulness of immortality will dull the sting."

Orion pouts but swallows the argument trying to squeeze out between its teeth. If it's supposed to value its time so much, what is wrong with clinging to every second that it can afford? What harm could possibly be too great a risk if it proves its devotion? But Lacerta watches it with an apprehensive expectation, his gaze upside down now that the rest of his body is oriented to the ground. "I understand," Orion lies.

Lacerta nods, satisfied, and grazes their claw through its hair. They have never scratched Orion, and as always it leans into the touch to prove to its parent their talons don't scare it—a tiny ritual that always makes Lacerta smile. "Sleep, darling. Tomorrow we will mourn Augustine properly.” Orion extinguishes its lamp; in the complete darkness, with the soft growl of Lacerta’s breathing to lull it asleep, Orion promises to itself to never be so careless as to forget.

[skytrust2]

Top 10 places to scout in Kerala

Top 10 places to scout in Kerala

There are 28 states and 8 union territories in India, and one of the most unique and popular among them is Kerala. Located on the southwestern coast of India, Kerala is the crown gem of India, and its cultural diversity will completely knock you out. In this article, we will show you the beauty of “gods own country” and the bougiest spots this beautiful state has to offer.

Kerala is a land of natural beauty and diverse traditions that have evolved over centuries. This state’s vibrant culture is a unique blend of different religions, languages, and traditions, all coexisting in harmony. This is a place where you can relax, rejuvenate and immerse yourself in the natural beauty and culture of South India. We are pretty sure that at this point, you’re all set to pack your bags and explore this place but wait. At least check out the top reasons to visit this wonderland.

Top Reasons to explore Kerala

To inspire you to visit this tranquil haven, we have taken the task to jot down a couple of reasons why you should explore this fantasy state. After you’re done reading this section, we can guarantee that the next step you will take is going on your devices and bagging the best package from Book My Bharat.

A complete haven for foodies – Keralan food

Every bite from a Sadhya (Keralan thali) is like an explosion of flavors in your mouth. If you visit Kerala and even 20 years down the lane, if you don’t remember anything: you will always remember the cuisine. The cuisine of this region features a variety of delectable dishes, including Keralan fish curry, Karimeen pollichathu, Fish moilee, Malabar Parotta, pumpkin and lentil curry, and Palada payasam. To enhance the dining experience, these dishes are typically served on a generous green banana leaf.

Serene backwaters

The backwater of Kerala can easily be defined as a labyrinth of tranquil lanes of water formed by 900km of waterways, which either flow in separate directions or merge to create the gorgeous lagoons, lakes, canals, and rivers that mother nature has to offer. You can sail along these idyllic waters and glance upon villagers going about doing their daily work. You can also make your experience a trance by spending your night in a boathouse, where you can slowly drift along these calm waters while a trained crew is on their heels to prepare sumptuous meals for you.

Beaches that look like paradise

The beauty of visiting a coastal state is that you escape the hustle and bustle of life and spend time on a beach. You can chill on the hammock, try surfing, or just run down the beach towards the water to feel like the main character of a movie. You can also try canoeing, kayaking, snorkeling, and scuba diving. 

cultural gem

Kerala possesses a captivating culture that is sure to fascinate visitors. Explore the Jewish synagogue, which boasts stunning Chinese tiles, beautiful Belgian chandeliers, and traditional period furnishings. The Santa Cruz Cathedral Basilica, built in the Gothic style, is another must-see attraction in Fort Kochi. To cap off an evening of exploration, enjoy a Kathakali performance, a classical dance that originated in the 17th century. 

Sightseeing – a treat for your eyes

Kerala is blessed with the Western Ghats, a UNESCO World Heritage Site that boasts a rich history dating back even further than the Himalayas, and backwaters to die for. Each view of Kerala offers a cinematic experience that you will remember forever. Now that you know the top reasons to visit Kerala, it’s time to plan your itinerary and explore some of the must-see places in this beautiful state. From the iconic backwaters of Alleppey to the historic Fort Kochi, the majestic Athirapally waterfalls to the tranquil Varkala Beach, Kerala has no shortage of stunning attractions that will take your breath away.

Places to visit in Kerala

Munnar

Munnar is the most popular site in Kerala and is graced by millions of visitors yearly. Located in the Idukki district, this place is 1,600 meters above sea level. A heavenly experience awaits you with limitless tea gardens, meandering lanes amidst misty mountains, and fragrant spice-filled air. Munnar boasts numerous attractions, including tea estates, Mattuppetty Dam, and Eravilulam National Park, to name a few. However, the serene and laid-back atmosphere of this place truly captivates you and leaves you yearning for more. 

Kozhikode

Kozhikode used to be the capital of the Zamorin kingdom. This city is blessed with natural beauty and is soaked by rich cultural heritage. There are many places to explore in Kozhikode, like Thusharagiri waterfalls and Kappad beach, which is still remembered as the iconic location where Vasco Da Gama first set foot. Kozhikode is also home to the biggest Dam in Kerala – Kuttiyadi Dam.

Alleppey

Alleppey, also known as the Venice of the east, is the nucleus of backwaters in Kerala. The entire place is a scenic paradise revered for its mirror still water, picturesque lagoons, and nonchalant beaches. This place is an epi-center of thousands of houseboats, which makes it an ideal location for tourists. They can swiftly drift along the tranquil waters and appreciate natural beauty at its best while sinking their teeth into authentic Keralan delicacies.

Trivandrum

Trivandrum, also known as Thiruvananthapuram, is the largest city in Kerala and the most sought-after tourist hub in Kerala. This city is an amalgamation of culture, history, beaches, backwaters, lagoons, and hill stations. Kovalam and Varkala are the most popular beach towns in Kerala and have cemented their position as being one of the most popular locations to explore. This place is also home to the wealthiest temple in the world – Sri Padmanabhaswamy temple

Kochi

Kochi, also known as Cochin, is one of the most urban spots in Kerala. This city is situated on the shores of the Arabian and Laccadive Seas. If history serves right, Kochi used to be a key spice trading center on the west coast of India, and that’s how it got the title of “Queen of Arabian Sea.” Kochi can easily be defined as a blend of multiple cultures, with some of its influences being from China, Portugal, and Great Britain.

Varkala

Varkala, located in the suburbs of Trivandrum, is on the verge of becoming the fastest-booming ayurvedic resort in Kerala. This is graced by a lot of tourists worldwide, who come to this blissful location in search of ayurvedic treatment. There is a beach in Kerala called Varkala beach, and commonly known as Papanasham beach. This beach is known for having holy powers, and when you dip in the water, all your sins will be washed away.

Thrissur

This place is blessed with a rich cultural heritage and numerous archeological findings. Visitors can read about Thrissur’s deep-rooted history, politics, and historical learnings through monuments and museums. Thrissur’s numerous attractions showcase the district’s historical, political, and religious inclinations, as demonstrated by its diverse range of monuments and museums. Some noteworthy sites include the Guruvayoor temple, Archaeological and Arts Museum, Shakthan Thampuran Palace, Chettuva Backwaters, Chimmony Wildlife Sanctuary, Kodungalloor Kovilakam, Vilangan Hills, Athirappilly Falls, and Thrissur Kole Wetlands.

Wayanad

Huddled amongst the peaks of Tamil Nadu and Kerala’s western ghats and borders is a quaint and pristine plateau of Wayanad. This Natural gem is located at 700 to 2100 meters above sea level. It is thought that the origin of the name Wayanad can be traced back to the term “vayalnadu,” which refers to the region of paddy fields. The entire landscape of Wayanad is blessed with prolific valleys and a range of mountains covered with mist.

Nelliyampathy

If you move 60 km away from Palakkad, you will be graced by an alluring and delightful hill station called Nelliyampathy. This gift of mother nature ranges from a varying height of 467 meters to 1572 meters. The Pothundi Dam, built during the 19th century, is a well-known picnic destination that boasts of its stunning environs and delightful boating experiences. Visitors can also enjoy the scenic views from the Seetharkundu viewpoint, which is another popular attraction. According to local lore, Lord Ram, Lakshman, and Seetha Devi sought respite at this very spot during their exile.

Athirapally

Athirapally is an iconic village located in Kerala that is highly acclaimed for its Athirappilly waterfalls. It stands 1000 feet above sea level on the Chalakudy river, with the river being located at 80 feet. These are the largest waterfalls in Kerala. Because of this, they are called the Niagara of India. Vazhachal waterfalls are considered an acquaintance of the Athirappilly waterfalls because they are located 5km away from it.

[daggerblacker]

Song of the Sample

Song of the Seadog Chapter One

Plot Summary:

23-year-old werewolf archpirate Ydriza “Riz” the Seadog of Darkmaw enjoys the simple things in life: Conquering friends, foes, and innocents alike, then folding worthy lands into their empire, the lawless, forever-expanding Darkmaw. At the heart of which is Riz’s crowning achievement, the Library of Ydriza, the world’s most comprehensive collection of rare and ancient texts. When news of a mysterious fire consuming every scroll, painting, and tapestry makes its way back to the Seadog mid-sail, for the first time in years, Riz makes landfall. Coming face to face with their neglected subjects, and head to head with a fiery fellow she-wolf, a knight Riz bit years ago known as Malmor, still defending the wimpy would-be prince of the conquered land. When a hate-date between the two gives Riz’s first mate the chance to stage a mutiny, take charge of the fleet, and take the prince captive to trade for his own daughter, both knight and pirate take to the sea. Malmor, for the prince she swore and failed to protect. Riz, to win back their water-logged throne as the driven, brutal, unbeatable Seadog of Darkmaw. All the way, grappling with their different morals, vicious, vengeful, opportunistic enemies, and complicated, yet undeniable, bond.

Short prelude:

Cross-posting SONG OF THE SEADOG Chapter One til the Patreon review clears and I can post the full link. This is probably my favorite opening chapter of any project, because I just immediately establish Riz as an asshole. Chapter found below Read More if that's still a thing.

PART ONE: SCOUNDREL RAMPANT

CHAPTER ONE

They oughta bottle the scent of iron and salt, nothing gets the ladies going like blood over the ocean. Nothing, maybe, than the musk of wolf’s wool. All mingled in my tilting cabin, the perfume of a wave-rocked execution flowing down the deck like I’d ordered Grim to let it. Red rain sliding between the floorboards above along with late, lazy golden rays of sun.

Good. The heat would bake the red stains into the sea-softened wood. In that way, even traitors had their use. There was no way to tell if the rumors about my poor leadership were the rigman’s creation, but he was spreading them. That was enough to justify the mauling, instead of the traditional marooning. One was reserved for crewmates who had slipped up thrice, the other for sniveling, gossipy scum.

I felt along the wall beside the canvas hammock I called a bed. My fingers found the little hidden notch in the blackwood. Inside the recessed cabinet, a clean, if tattered, rag hung over a fishscale-bound book. I was careful not to drip on the edition as I took the rag, patted my face dry. One thing was for sure, that rigman hadn’t gone out without a fight.

Five rhythmic raps came at the holey door behind me. Grim’s signature knock, to the tune of some ancient sitcom theme he fancied. One drum of the knuckles per syllable: ‘Ev-ery Where You Look…’ His grizzled voice followed, “Captain?”

He didn’t bother to wait for my reply, never had. Jerking the lop-sided door open to peer into my cabin. I waved him inside, “The innards weren’t swept until they stopped steaming, I hope.”

“Not a second before,” Grim grunted with a nod, the three gold rings threaded through his upper ear jingling. Despite the happenings above, his black boots were spotless while mine were covered in a burgundy sheen. His traditional garb dry--big-brimmed hat to flowing red velvety cloak--while my ruffled black linen shirt still dripped freely. Oh, well. That was why Grim had had the metal-plated floors installed.

Grim was about a decade older than me, somewhere in his early thirties to my twenty-three, with emeralds for eyes and a curly brown beard cascading from that thin sliver of ever-pink face. His complexion pale and rosy to my bark-brown. His mug fresh and unmarred to the web of long scars etched across my nose. While I had taken to the sea only after that fateful bite, the resulting infection, he’d started out my age as a cabinboy, working his way up. But not to the top. He said, “I’m glad you’re sitting down. A dorsaldog just arrived--”

I snarled into the rag, pulling it away to look down into the burgundy stain of my face, wrinkled on my lap. “You know I prefer the crew acclimate to radio communication.”

“Learning curve.” Grim dipped his chin, tucking a stray curl into his hat. “There’s good news, and bad news. Which do you want first?”

My boots thudded on the metal cabin floor as I hefted myself out of the hammock. Grim started at the sound. His hand landed on the hilt of his silvery white cutlass, the curved blade glinting in the narrow shafts of dying light. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were stalling.”

Grim cleared his throat, straining to brighten his voice. “The good, first, then. Well, morale is high onboard eighty percent of the fleet, Captain. The rest is sure to follow in line after the example you made of the rigman.”

Fodder. “All thanks to your intel, First Mate Grim.” I crossed the room to pat his shoulders. My hand trembled where it rested next to his throat, fingers shivering over with black-fur, until every pale nail was claw. “Now, the real news.”

Grim ran a thick, calloused hand down his face, using his own sweat to smooth his beard. A pirate’s sweat was as versatile as rope: Grease before a hot date, oil in a pinch when tending to rusted rigs, sustenance in times of greatest strife. “It’s Shriekshore.”

It took me a moment to place the name. Darkmaw was nine liberated vassal-states large, now, and always in need of supplies. Caring for the details was Grim’s job, keeping the goods coming was mine. So I hadn’t so much as set foot on conquered land in three years. “Is that the one with all the snapping ivy?”

“No,” Grim rocked on his heels, eyeing the rickety door. He gulped. “It’s the one with the rocky beaches, white sand, and--and the library...”

The roar that ripped through me left my throat raw, and my voice hoarse. “Spit it out, Summer!”

Grim drew his silver, curved cutlass with a jolt, and it clattered to the floor between us. This wouldn’t have been the first time he’d pulled a blade on me. I didn’t judge him. Today wasn’t the first time he’d witnessed a mauling, self preservation was a healthy instinct. That’s why he was First Mate, because he didn’t skirt around what everyone else did: The only reason the empire didn’t have a monster baying at the shore was because the monster ruled it all.

He blushed, “Radicals, Captain. We don’t know who exactly, but the Missives send word of an arson attack. There’s evidence accelerant was strategically traced throughout the structure.”

I kicked the sword, and it slid to the toes of his boots. “The structure?”

Grim knelt to pick it up, hesitating a moment before sheathing the cutlass. “The Library of Ydriza is no more, I’m afraid.”

Tens of thousands of priceless, ancient artifacts. Scrolls containing recipes that hadn’t been replicated since the twenty-first century. Statues of long-fallen rulers lifted out of the deepest depths of the Ichor. Tapestries darned from ocean-eaten remnants with strange words and even stranger images: People hunting woollen, land-bound creatures swallowed up centuries ago. Forests stretching on into oblivion, bearing swollen colorful fruit. Women turning into wolves.

For years, my scouts scoured the far corners of Lanor. Five-thousand never returned. Lost to the cause, I’d reasoned. Swallowed by the shadowy corners of the world in our righteous effort to reclaim what the Ichor Ocean took from our ancestors long ago. To remember the world before Lanor, that unflooded Earth.

What was worse, the final piece had only just been put on display, in the last remaining hall after the first exhibits crowded much of the main castle. A complete wing dedicated only to ancient fiction texts. “There’s no reason to divert the whole fleet. The Blue, Green, and Red volleys go on as planned to intercept the fishers. Evacuate everyone evenly among them, take the dinghies. I can’t risk showing up in one of those dinky things.”

“Captain--”

“Don’t argue, there’s no time to discuss this. I’m taking Black to Shriekshore while the firestarter’s scent is still fresh.”

“I take no issue with that, Riz,” said Grim. “It’s just that the surveyors know their way well enough without me. These radicals are unpredictable, and there are strange stories flying out of Shriekshore every week. Talk of an armored beast--”

“The land-ridden have wild imaginations.”

“I’m coming with you.”

He left to ring the heavy, silver bell over the main deck. The ship gave a chorus of metallic groans as the crew roused, lurching out of their hammocks. After the execution at dusk, the news of a mass re-assignment would be welcome. This way, too, they could spread word of the punishment. Some rumors were good, the kind that only emphasized the Seadog of Darkmaw’s brutality. It had, after all, been eight years since I’d dispatched of Captain Monty Mallard.

That was the difference between Grim and I. The Pirating Index was his handbook, and history was mine. One didn’t become Captain by asking nicely, and one didn’t command with a heart in hand. Fresh blood, fresh legends, fresh fear, that was how you kept a crew in line.

When I emerged, hours later, only a smattering of the fleet was still in sight, lingering on the horizon. Black steel barques bobbing, flags rippling over sails full of wind. The merewolf crest woven into each swimming fang-first across the sky, paws galloping, scaled fish tail splashing in the place of hind legs.

The same crest that had flown high above the library.

For hundreds of miles in every direction, above, the black star-crowded night sky, below, the dark, deep blue Ichor. Was I only imagining a hint of the scent of smoke on the cool breeze?

At the helm, the spokes of the steering wheel spun slowly where it was lodged in the center of the control panel. I watched through the wide, fortified window, there, as Grim flitted around the deck. Adjusting the sails so they followed the wind, but also lined up with the lamps along the tallest mast. I threw a lever, two bold yellow beams flickered to life along the tallest mast, each pointed in opposite directions, aimed at the sails so a mist-shrouded, golden projection burst forth, the black shadow of the merewolf riding the light to bound over the ocean. An intimidation play.

This was a trick Grim had taught me. Even if he was a goody-goody, Grim was a pirate from ruddy flesh to pale bone. He knew when to lean away from stealth, and into one’s own mythology. Shriekshore would see me coming, as would the firestarter. And I had a feeling she’d be waiting.

(Scene Break in Document)

Unlike the rusted metal platforms from the first blue waves lapping up and over the country--sideways on their stilts from how hastily the government slapped them together--Shriekshore was true land. The only true land for hundreds of miles in any direction. Not floating, not tethered, but an island city built on sprawling, hilly dirt ground. Every state in Darkmaw was a scrap of ancient Earth.

The swaying golden grass dappling each hill waved at us from afar, that signature warm breeze wafting over the valley like the welcome breath of some god. Orange light flickered in the windows of the boxy clay, pale blue houses dotting the seaside while the glass spires cropping out of the inner city glittered with neon. Shriekshore had once been named after its idyllic weather, Springport favored for its active trading routes. Of course, then, all the incoming riches had rolled uphill to Windlift Castle.

Before the spires had risen to house the thousands flocking to newly-conquered Shriekshore, the castle had been the tallest structure on the whole island. The outside dignified and marbled, the inside a mosaic of kings past and kings to come, a kaleidoscope of color. Tile, fabric, stone, paint, and clay.

Now, the tallest hill was bare except for a blackened stone base. I’d been a fool to expect ruins. Lanor winds could carry a sailor away if she wasn’t careful. Dust, now. I had to remind myself that. It was all dust.

I docked Black at the narrow, wooden walkway, shivering on its stilts as a pair of hat-clad pirates emerged from the slender, silver lighthouse on the powdery beach. Grim retracted the sails while I used a crank next to the control panel to drop anchor. No use idling, we were gonna be here a while.

Grim climbed down the metal ladder attached to the side of the ship, but I dove over the deck headfirst. My boots were strapped to my ankles to keep them from slipping off as my feet came undone.Twisting into paws, black fur straining to fight free of my shoes. My human feet would’ve shattered on impact, but my wolf joints were springy and strong.

One of the missives avoided my gaze, kneeling on the water-worn wood, but the other nodded. Either at me, or Grim, behind me. It was hard to tell. Her eyes did flick to me when she said, “My sincerest condolences, Captain Oakum.”

I waved, striding past both of them. “Save the sorry words for couple’s therapy.”

The man next to her was young, no more than eighteen or so, with an oversized hat tilted on his head. He piped up, “Captain, would you like a pint at the new bar? Have you heard of it?”

“Let me guess,” Grim grumbled to my back, “The Bar of Ydriza?”

The young missive paled, stammering, “Ydriza’s Drinks and Eats, sir.”

Grim righted the missive’s hat. “Captain Oakum has no time for such dalliances.”

“Yet,” I cut in. The sand was so fine, it flowed around my soles as water would. I untied my shoestrings, undid the straps, to step into the moon-white ocean. “I don’t have time yet. First, the library.”

The older missive launched into a spiel I knew she’d practiced, a log of backed up messages. One from Captain Bonesbane, something about a day to rue and his life in shambles since blah, blah, blah. Another from someone or other who’s farm had been seized by a group known as the Jackals. Nothing new, the missives were charged with drawing up overall status reports, not keeping careful watch. The lighthouse was motion-sensored and automated, fit for my modern city. No spying monarchs, no cameras, no order. Out of my paws, that was meant to come from the people up.

An elderly woman drew the curtain at the window of the nearest clay dwelling, her face pressed to the glass. Her eyes went big as the color drained from her cheeks. I watched as she hurried to untangle the cords in her grasp, that expression hardening into a good, long glare as the curtains dropped so I wondered if the material was thin enough for her to look through.

I turned to the missive, urging her closer to me. “Why haven’t these hovels been demolished?”

The older missive removed her hat, fiddling with the brim as she answered, “Well, Captain… Not everyone’s agreed to plug into the grid--”

“Then don’t ask them to!” I snapped. The younger missive crumbled in the sand, clasping his throat as if to shield it from my fangs. The more experienced one, however, didn’t flinch. Didn’t so much as blink. “Make them. I expect all these clay dens to follow my library before the morning. Have I made myself clear?”

She nodded. “Yes, Captain.”

“Good,” I grunted. “I’ll hear the rest, later. Return to your posts, we’ll take it from here.”

The young man bowed, quickly--a holdover from his days as a squire, perhaps--and bolted to the lighthouse in the distance. His older companion, though, lingered, looking from me to Grim. “As you wish, Captain.”

She strode off.

Grim and I found the stone steps at the edge of the beach. The staircase climbing a steady cliffside up and into the city. Green grass fighting free of the sand peered down at us, bristly on the bottom of my feet when we reached the top. It frittered off into the main road, paved over with the captive architect Jori Tinsley’s special blend of sand, crushed stone, and pearled bits of metal: The melted remains of my enemies’ swords.

These shined metallic spots were cold as I stepped onto the street. Though the sun was long-set, there wasn’t a dark window in sight. I admit, I had to shield my eyes a moment to adjust to the harsh light. Blinking signs advertising low-entry games of King, Fell, Fallen. A screen on the side of a glass tower blaring previews of skin flicks even a pirate would, could, and did blush at.

Just a deep inhale gave me enough information to know my suspicions were correct. The fire-starter had stuck around, all right. Had marked the entire island, just about. Her scent pungent with sweat, a dash of accelerant, a touch of rust. A hint of cologne, but not hers.

I could’ve narrowed in to pick up on specifics. When she’d been where, and doing what, but I widened the scope, instead. Three-hundred thousand residents and their three-hundred thousand exhales of detail-riddled breath. Age, location, what they’d had for breakfast. Spiced waterberry wine, boiled beachbulbs, the finest butters cultivated from dorsal-dog milk. Above all, though, was the reek of hornhoof manure.

It was a distinct scent that tickled at my gag reflex. Even in the days just after I razed the largest farms to build my towers, the plow-hornhoofs’ shit would accumulate on my freshly-paved roads. Well, progress had its snags, right?

A mewling, feral eight-ear with a long, fluffy, striped tail trotted down the sidewalk ahead of us. It was in good shape for a street-prowler, with just three tattered ears, and an assload of crust built up around its big green eyes.

Grim leapt out of the way of the thing as it approached, but I let it come up to me. Didn’t have to call it, animals were born with the ability to recognize werewolves. Its tail curling around my ankle as I swept my thumbs over its face, swiping off all the rubbery grit. The eight-ear’s purple tongue darted out to lick my hand before it padded off, and we turned onto the most gruesome street yet.

The alleyways were rivers of garbage. Scraps of rotting wood jutted out of stained cloth bags, floating amidst green juice that smelled worse than a water-bloated corpse. Grim grunted. “That’s what Fiona was getting to. The issue of trash disposal--”

“Fiona?” A scruffier-looking eight-ear pounced on a rat as it feasted on a molded melon.

“The missive, Riz,” he said. “She’s been serving you for five years.”

“I don’t need the details, Grim,” I said. “I’m more of a big picture gal.”

“Well, the ‘big picture’ is there’s no where to put the stuff. The states have just been shuffling it between each other.”

We crossed the street to avoid passing a particularly nasty-looking alleyway. “What’s that got to do with me? They’ll figure it out.”

Further into town, markets with fruit from all over Darkmaw--from the black, prickly gigaplums of Almera to the tiny, clustered blue-veined fruit of Fangsfyre. I watched a woman in a tan cloak exchange a small, cloth drawstring bag for a cart’s worth of groceries. “What of the currency?” I said. “Don’t tell me they still exchange gold.”

Grim risked placing an arm around my shoulder, steering me away and up another flight of stairs. This one up a steep, grass-blanketed hill. “Old habits die hard, Captain.”

We climbed, and my heart grew heavier with each step. Thud: A bright brown vase depicting strange aircrafts escaping Lanor. Thud: Marble busts of presidents of the twenty-first century, dirt encrusted in their wrinkled foreheads from just as long ago. Thud: Water-worn paintings of the First Wave, one of three to slam into the country and submerge us for good. Lapping tides tinged with cloudy froth like the mouth of some rabid beast, sea creatures from the depths of the blue abyss overtaking the land in their many-armed and jawed hordes.

History is heavy like that.

At the top of the hill, all was still, even those waist-length golden stalks. Not even the wind disturbed such a gravesite. The blackened stone base of Windlift Castle, the Library of Ydriza, was lone at the head of the hill overlooking Shriekshore. Every wall was swept away, every painted window, every mural of my feats at sea splashed across the ceiling to conceal the long-dead Kings.

My eyes stung, and I clasped a hand over them. Not in front of Grim. Not in front of anyone. “Leave me.”

“Riz?” Grim clasped one of my hands, but I yanked my fingers free.

“That’s not a suggestion, Summer,” I barked, whipping my forearm across my face to dry it before spinning on my heels. Face-to-face, his pink nose a hair’s breadth away from my snarling maw. “It’s an order.”

So he waited at the threshold of the base while I stepped inside.

The floor was as grand, if ash-stained, as ever. A sweeping gallery, fit for more than a King. Maybe I’d have it polished as a memorial to that grand thing it had supported, once. The most important structure on Lanor. All my hopes and dreams and sweat and blood and bite.

My legs gave out under it all, and I marvelled at the ghost of a building. In the center of the floor, the cold, still heart of a waist-high blackstone well remained, if singed. The rusted metal hatch cranked shut. The freshwater well was the one thing strategically preserved in the carnage. All else was incidental--a scorched shadow of the bust of an empress--or lost to time.

When I regained the ability to stand, I dragged myself across the floor. There, a proud and intricate pillar had stood, carved of driftwood. Here, a delicate record player, ever-humming the crackling, staticy tune of Ella Fitzgerald and Duke Ellington’s “It Don’t Mean a Thing (If It Ain’t Got That Swing.)”

Doo-ah, doo-ah, doo-ah, doo-ah, doo-ah, doo-ah, doo-ah, doo-ah.

Only smoke on the wind, now. Fire can consume even sound, even music, even life. Water can, too.

Fat tears clouded my vision for minutes on end while my nose constricted like the Ichor Vipers of yore around those fabled ships. At last, I came to the end of the retched floor. Even though every column was gone, a lone, fire-mottled door still stood at one scorched exit of seven. Though the length of the tall door was marred with ash and deep, deep scars, the doorknob was pristine. A glass bulb with folded paper figurines inside that I knew were positioned to re-enact some sunken mythology of serpents and apples and wisdom and women.

I managed a chuckle. Just what I needed, another reminder of life’s cruel humors. Still, if this was to be my relic, so be it. Any reminder of my library was precious, if bitter.

The door chattered where it stood as I approached it. It was already so brittle, all the doorknob would need was a good pull. So I gripped it, twisted it hard. Close, but no ink. The whole door was still intact enough to swing with my arm.

On the other side of the door, a woman in bronze armor gripped the other end of the doorknob, her black cloth-bound fist closed around the mangled, metal, wirey remains of the lock keeping it in place.

She had the stocky build all Springporters sported, and the bushy, black brows to match. The island-wide skintone of black so muted, the outline of her seemed almost blue. An armored, living re-creation of lightning lacing cloudcover. Her hip-length hair gleamed in the moonlight. Pulled through a long slot in the center of her helmet in the traditional way, so it appeared to be a river of shimmering, liquid obsidian. Each strand as old as her oaths, I knew. Her eyes the color of dark honey harvested from sea-bees in times of starvation. Because those motherfuckers stung like a son of a-- “I wanted to ask before coming in, my grace.”

Her voice had that textured brogue the port-folk were favored for, and the appeal wasn’t lost on me. A chill playing along my shoulders at the sound as the hairs on the back of my neck raised like hackles. Venom dripping from the roof of my mouth, threatening to spill out.

Behind her, a shivering six-foot-tall man with knees as knobby as any gnarled hill in craggy Letsland squeaked at the sight of me. He couldn’t have passed for a native Springporter if a witch rode out of a dream of Atlantis and slapped his royal ass with her wand. The princeling Kaleel Windlift was pale as the Shriekshore beaches, with flashing, long-lashed, two-toned eyes. Gray glinting in the top halves of his irises, while deep blue anchored the other. Only a few families, now, had Liftfield genes strong enough to present the signature two-color eyes. Let alone the silvery locks, each strand translucent, and glittering like spun starlight.

“Captain,” I corrected her. “That’s ‘Captain’ to you. I’m not of your little landcub’s ilk.”

I let go of the doorknob, but she held on from her end, squeezing her slender fingers through the circular hole where the other knob had been incinerated to clasp it. Even she, though, seemed unsure of what to say next. Drawing one sweaty palm along the crest on her breastplate so the symbol--a helix tied at either end so it doubled as an infinity sign--was obscured in a thick, wet sheen.

I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her or the princeling in three years. Not since…

My eyes glided over the knight’s forearms, clad in thick leather padding, bronze plates sewn onto the outer ends of each armguard. There was no way to make out the bite. Not like it would look the same after so many years, anyway.

All that blood. My fangs ringing against the bone.

“I expected you,” I admitted, “but I gotta admit, Mal, you didn’t seem like the type to play with fire.”

Malmor the Gallant let go of the doorknob for a moment to flail, balking, before regaining her grip in either sense. “I’m taking up lots of new interests,” she spat. “Collecting, for one. Rare items, just like this doorknob. Once you burn, and conquer, and kill, it belongs to you, right?”

There was something new about her, yet. A blaze behind the eyes so that jolly twinge to them seemed more mania than glee. I would know. So I didn’t push her. “Keep it. It’s your right,” I said. “It belongs to the people of Lanor.”

She didn’t miss a beat. “The people of Lanor don’t belong to themselves.”

So things weren’t so different, after all. “I know who you belong to, Malmor.” I looked to the princeling, and he yelped as if I’d bared my teeth, hugging Malmor’s shoulderplate.

Though his clothes were fine and delicately-woven, bright fabrics of the silver and pale blue that royals used to wear, they were no where near as decorative as the originals garb. Indeed, all the prince had to show for his royal heritage were his eyes, his silver-blond locks, and a triangular scrap of his royal blue childhood cloak clinging to his back. Well, that and--

A shortsword rattled in a metal sheath attached to his belt. Tink, tink, tink, tink, tink. An anxious song I smirked at. Even at eighteen, that Windlift telekinesis was untrained, unsharpened to that fatal edge the King and Queen had lorded over Springport. That the Liftfield clan brandished over Lanor. Before me, anyway. “Mal, you got to talk to her, fine. Let’s go.”

Mal shrugged him off of her shoulder. “I don’t want to talk to her, highness. I want to dethrone her.”

“Them,” I said, hovering in the doorway over her and the princeling on the shallow stone staircase. We never had gotten to introductions, and port-folk were slow on the uptake when it came to thirty-second century norms. Monarchies don’t freeze time, they rewind it. “I’ve long-grown out of your land-ridden genders. And you can’t dethrone someone when there’s no throne to sit upon. Tell me, landknight, how can you so long for that monarchy yet destroy the only remaining monument of it?”

Mal scoffed. “My prince is the only monument to the true rule of this land I need.”

“Yeah you, because no one else cares, Mal.” I leaned in the crispy doorway, sizing the knight up. The get-up was new, yes, and dual-purpose. Conceal that bite, and prevent another one. Back when we were twenty, and the prince just fifteen, she’d only worn a squire’s canvas shirt. Even before the bite, she’d had a wolf’s speed, dashing in front of the prince as I moved in for the ceremonial mauling.

It wasn’t the princeling’s fault his folks wouldn’t bend at will--and didn’t have a daughter my age to whisper promises of peace to over waterberry wine. Only about half of the states surrendered, so the rules were clear, while the warnings ran scarlet. Up until then I hadn’t left any survivors, no pleading mates, no baying mind-changers at the wedding of my fangs to their flesh.

Then again, up until then, I’d never left anyone only bitten.

So the prince lived without so much as a strand of that cloud-colored hair harmed, and that foolish squire lived, too. In thirty-one sixteen, she’d writhed in the dirt before the blood-flooded palace. Barking and raving, so feverish even her eyes grew redder. Indeed, for days they would bleed. But I didn’t stick around for that part.

I don’t know what it was, exactly. Because I was impressed at her bravery, stunned by her stupidity, or shocked at having, at last, lit the match in me I swore I’d never strike in another. Not without ending them. I fled to the sea, and they fled to the city. Work on the Library of Ydriza began in my absence.

Then, her face had been gnarled with anger, then illness, on the ground convulsing before the prince. Now, Malmor’s brow was worn. As brightly as her eyes burned, her soul simmered, I knew. It was all in the curve of the lips, just a half-frown, just the dregs of anger after the fire tore through most of the fuel. How did the saying go? A sailor’s mouth is only as clean as the one kissing it…

Maybe it was too late to save my library, but I could save myself the trouble of a do-over. Aye, princesses and pirates often frequented the floating bar orbiting Rotsworth under clipped names. The only way we could be sure to avoid assassins, and those that might agree to anything we said out of fear instead of fun and pleasure. It was customary to reveal one’s full identity before parting. Three times I’d made a convincing argument for a princess to abdicate. The old two-degree takeover. I was going about this the wrong way. I had to quench the landknight’s ire with pillow talk, not smothering.

I didn’t need to fall over myself to convince me, she’d been a fierce sight three years ago. Unflinching, dagger drawn against an impossible opponent: Me. Malmor bulky, then, and even more so, now, thick cords of muscle threaded around each arm. Brave, boiling with rage, and strong enough to lift a whalecamel. In other words, just my type.

This time, I would stay. Soften at her touch so she saw the Seadog of Darkmaw--the Scoundrel of Lanor--was just a title, after all, and I was only a lover. “Do you like imported beer, my lady?”

“That’s the only kind of beer since you ‘developed’ all the farmland…” Malmor growled. “Not like I’d share a pint with the likes of you.”

There was that hiccup. Courting did usually come before biting for most. “I just mean that it’s about time we saw eye-to-eye.” I wrenched the doorknob out of its position, while Mal’s hands twiddled the hilt of her sheathed greatsword, and rolled it around my palms. “Like, if we’d spoken before, you’d know the King’s farmland network was sapping fresh water so quickly a fifth of all Springporters died of dehydration over the course of just two years after he took rule.”

Malmor didn’t dispute this, rubbed her armguard, the one on her left forearm. “Now all the residents would rather die than eat that strange food your raiders keep hauling to our shore.”

“Let’s discuss everything, then. All grievances. Neither of us stands to gain from these hilltop pissing contests.” I motioned to the stone floor with one hand. “You’ve lost a castle, I’ve lost a library. Net zero, we’re square as kincorn beans. Let’s put this whole thing to bed, shall we? Talk it out over drinks at that new bar downtown.”

“What decisions could be made without my prince?”

I chuckled. “What leadership experience does beast-bait over there have?”

“He doesn’t need experience,” she was quick with her retort, “It’s in his blood. Everything you have you’ve stolen.”

“Propaganda,” I waved. “Something else we can discuss, tonight. The Windlifts and their relatives stole an entire world when they took the wells, I only stole it back.”

Malmor half-drew her sword, one foot of the black steel four exposed. That thick, black brow furrowed. A moment of her silent thoughts. Wordlessly, she regarded Kaleel.

He nodded in big, cartoonish movements, as if trying to use his head to fish an agreement out of her mouth. “This has to end, sometime,” the prince noted. “So many have died, already.” The man’s mouth twitched, but he forced a smile. “No more stunts. I only have you, Malmor.”

The knight nodded. “We talk,” she said, sheathing the rest of the blade. “Woman to woman.”

I winced. Womanhood, just another skin I’d shed when I was bitten. I knew it was just a common honorable phrase, a slip-up. The landknight reaching for the handiest applicable words in her modest, land-bound vocabulary. If she required my patience in the endeavor of progress, that was just what Darkmaw stood for. “When I took to the sea, I washed my paws of all that gender stuff and saw myself as I am.” I corrected her, “Wolf to wolf.”

It was Mal’s turn to flinch. She kneeled on the step she stood on. Bowing, kneeling, grovelling. Land customs.

I urged her to her feet, extending my arm. She rose to inspect my hand, finally extending her own. I clasped her wrist. After a beat, she clasped mine. The pirate’s goodbye. With the other hand, I pressed the glass bulb into her palm. “Don’t forget your doorknob.”

[teal-fiend]

I’m back and here’s a story about pirates 

Content: unwilling prey, implied digestion, implied fatal, prey pov

The navy man could hardly comprehend that he was being swallowed until he fell into the stomach. 

Captain Charles Philips of the royal navy had seen dozens enter this very same stomach. From the outside. Mostly sailors from their warring nation, but other pirates, outlaws; Enemies of the crown. 

And so he knew that there was nothing he could do to get out on his own. Struggling is useless. The first thing he did was wrap his coat over any exposed skin. It wouldn’t protect him from the digestive process forever, but it would buy him time. To negotiate.

“We had an alliance Sterling, why are you throwing it away?” He grunted as the stomach squeezed him tightly, already trying to churn him up. The navy man said in a strained voice, “you’re putting yourself in danger, if you kill me the bounty will be on your head.”

Philips heard the pirate captain’s voice above him, and felt it vibrating all around, “are you really that naive captain? You won your war, so our contract has ended. The crown doesn’t want anything else from pirates except to get rid of them. I’m just taking the first step in the waltz of our renewed rivalry.”

“No, no Sterling, listen to me. The crown still has its use for you. You’re a powerful ally, you would not just be thrown away. You would be pardoned - but only if you let me out. If the royal navy finds that you’ve turned on one of its captains, you will be killed. Please, you can’t come back from this.”

Philips heard a laugh that made his heart sink, “oh it’s not just you who's in trouble Captain; while we’re having this little chat, my crew is capturing your ship. And I think my second in command is better than yours. You’re not the only one who’s going to end up in a pirate’s gut today. It’s you and the rest of your sailors.”

The cold sunken feeling in the navy man's chest turned into a kind of nausea, and then into a dark red rage as he lashed out at the rubbery flesh that closed in around him- Kicking and pushing outwards with all his anger induced strength, only to find the stomach fighting him back; compressing him inward harder than before. Like the hug of a boa constrictor, he couldn’t move at all and with every breath it squeezed tighter until he felt a wave of heat wash over his body and a lightheadedness that made him truly panic for the first time since he was swallowed. If he fell into unconsciousness now, he would not wake up.

After that outburst, his belly was starting to get more bold. It was starting to churn in a quicker rhythm, and acids were beginning to seep through the navy captains’ clothes. He grit his teeth through the pain, and tried to regain his calmness, but his heart was beating frantically and he was trying to suppress his anger at the thought of his crew being helpless out there, led by the idiot officer Hurley - but it wasn’t his fault, it was Philips fault for trusting a pirate at all, and now his crew was going to pay for his mistake with their lives.

Philips felt an outside force pressing slightly down on him, he imagined that the pirate was rubbing his belly, either enjoying the post-meal fullness, or trying to coax the navy man into fighting back some more. But he wasn’t going to fall for it again. 

“I- I thought we were friends. How could you do this to me? To my crew?”

“I did give you a courtesy that I usually would bypass, I waited for the contract to end. I could have betrayed you sooner, and none would be the wiser, but I waited.” Captain Sterling yawned, “You had the chance to flee us. But you stuck around… you stuck around too long.” 

Philips felt the world shift and tumble as the pirate captain stood up, walked a few paces over to a hammock and lay down.

“Sterling, what are you doing? Get up,” Philips pleaded. He knew that the pirate falling asleep was just as much a death sentence as it would be if he were to black out. There would be no more discussion, no chance for negotiation. The pirate would digest him in his sleep and no amount of struggling would wake him up. The navy captain had seen it before a thousand times. Once he fell asleep it would be over. And then he’d wake up a while later with a soft round middle, what remained of his meal moving through his intestines. 

“Don’t fall asleep, please, talk to me. We can figure this out.”

Philips could feel the predator’s hands resting on top of him, as he sighed in satisfaction.

“It’s too late for that, Captain Philips. You know how long it takes me to digest big meals, I need to get started so I'm ready to sail out of here tomorrow. Since there will be nothing left of your ship by the time we’re done with it, I don’t even know if the crown will know what ever happened to you. It will be a mystery forever. But I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re already sending the message to cut off any privateers, so we need to remove ourselves from the royal territory as soon as possible. This is just a parting gift that I’m taking for myself before we say our goodbyes.”

Philips barely heard the end of Captain Sterling’s statement as he was overcome by a warm blackness that finally rendered him unconscious as the belly gurgled at him, descending upon him like a pack of wild dogs.

[solomons-cooking]

Camping with an Outdoorsy MC: Date-ables/Brothers Headcanons

I got inspired by my post about Mammon liking the outdoors (link)

I also love to camp, its what my summer consists of.

As for everything with me, this is self-indulgent

Lucifer:

Type: Cabin

Would rather eat Solomons cooking than wear a flannel

Complete Dad energy

Brings everyone toothbrushes, towels, and amenities

Wants to show off that he can light a fire without magic (he does it with magic and thinks that he fooled everyone)

Loves the sound of the babbling creek

Drinks too much

Lights off fireworks, i imagine him just laughing the whole time, and drunk stumbling to light them

Likes to watch the sun rise

Is the first one awake, but lets everyone sleep in

★

Mammon

Type: Cabin/tent

Actually VERY skilled at outdoors stuff

Lights a fire without magic

Loves to go on walks

Wants to spend as much time with MC as possible (including sneaking in their tent at night)

Hiking/mountain climbing enthusiast

Loves lightening bugs (doesnt harm them)

Loves the idea of being with you by the fire, under the stars

Lights off fireworks with Luci and its v wholesome

An idea: mammon in cargo pants

Has a multitool and uses it

★

Levi

Type: Glamping pod

“Camping is for Normies”

(Secretly doesn't mind)

The lake nearby has water creatures!

Wants to get Henry 2.0 a friend: Lucifer says no

Has his streaming set up in the pod

Pod MUST be temperature regulated

Only comes out at night

^^ UNLESS its swimming time!

References Animal Crossing

Takes MC swimming in his demon form; they find lots of cool things (you know those videos of like stuff you find in the river/lake that people lose? i love those videos idk)

★

Satan:

Type: Hammock

Also brings earplugs

Read book in hammock like a cutie-pie

Looks at stars in hammock with said book like a cutie-pie

Thinks his brothers antics are amusing while camping

*zen satan*

Has a book about botany and asks MC to go on a hike and learn

Pranking Lucifer is priority

Brings a multitool but doesnt use it (just for show)

★

Asmo:

Type: Glamping pod

His camping clothes are hella cute

Like asmo in a light colored flannel with a turtleneck? Fnewnfwf

Would LOVE to cuddle under the stars

He actually decorated his pod (you know we are only staying here for like 2 nights right?)

Takes pictures. Of. Everything.

Complains

Asks MC to go skinny dipping in the lake nearby ( a cute and relaxing moment )

Gathers wildflowers and makes him and mc a crown (Simeon too since he also helped gather)

★

Beel:

Type: Tent, next to Belphie

Gathers firewood, brings a whole tree back

Has his own cooler for his food

Tries to use a fishing rod, just grabs a fish out of the river with his hands

Mega macho beel

Takes MC and Mammon on a mountain hike

He takes walks with Belphie a lot, sometimes they would just sit on a rock and talk.

He brings stuff for s'mores! (he isnt very patient so someone will have to make them for him)

★

Belphie:

Type: Hammock

Sets up a makeshift “star viewing room” (bed sheets between trees, soft lights, all the bedding and pillows ( all bug repellent )

Sleeps practically all day so he can stay up all night and stargaze

Lets Satan stargaze with him, you, and beel.

Tries to do some outdoor activity like hiking or fishing with beel, but he gets injured???

Frequently takes walks with Beel, just bonding walks and enjoying eachothers company

^^ My heart. I think they do that canon tho, like take walks and have bro bonding time wfkjfffhf

★

Diavolo:

Type: Tent

Excited kid energy

Wants to experience human world camping

Family bonding!!!!

Tries to implement the “no magic allowed rule”

Hates his tent, sleeps with luci in his cabin

Thinks the crayfish are neat (accidentally stepped on one (it lived ))

Messiest smore eater in all the 3 realms (how did he get it in his hair??)

Tells embarrassing stories of Lucifer but follows up with stories of amazing things that Luci has done

★

Barbatoes:

Type: ???

Knows what's in store and questions your sanity

Hates this

Wants to leave (he portals back to the devildom)

He literally left

(he makes a quick appearance to aid simeon in gathering flowers/roots/bark for tea!)

★

Solomon:

Type: Tent

Fucker knows how to camp

Brings the bare minimum to survive

Knows a lot about foraging for food

Goes on mushroom hunts and its really cute

Tries to cook /rip

^^^Ends up making fireworks that luci and mammon use later

Likes the campfire smell (i imagine this is what solomon smells like 60% of the time anyway)

★

Simeon:

Type:Cabin

Afraid of bugs

Doesn't really care for camping, only came bc MC and Luci

Loves wildflowers and starts to gather some for MC (Barb appears for this to help)

Brings board games!!!!!!! (jenga gets pretty rough)

Teaches MC how to skip stones on a lakes surface

Imagine- being outdoors with Simeon and his shoulders in the sunlight and his eyes and his smile weoifhiefhweofhw

★

[maybankiara]

91 and 100 with Jiara wedding? 😍

about a year late and super cheesy, but thank you for requesting this!

91:  let’s run away and get married. 100: forever?

‘let’s run away and get married,’ says jj, a bright smile on his drunken lips.

they’re fresh out of high school, barely eighteen, with the whole world waiting for them. neither is going to college because fuck learning like that, they can do better just living their lives, and the plan is to go on that surf trip. 

or at least, that’s what kiara thought. 

‘right.’ she laughs and takes another swig, cuddling up into her boyfriend of two years on the hammock. ‘we could do it on the surf trip.’

‘we could.’ jj’s arms wrap around her and pull her closer as he plants a kiss to the crown of her head. ‘we could do it anywhere we wanted. just get hitched. tell the world this is it, we’re done looking.’

‘we could do it in yucatan,’ says kiara, adding onto the joke. 

she feels him sigh a little; in the distance, happy screeches come as their friends splash around in the ocean. she feels his arms tense, but his fingers twirl one of her curls, and the steady beat of his heart speeds up ever so slightly. 

‘i meant it,’ he says. ‘every word of it. i’m done looking.’

‘jj---’

‘no, i’m serious, kie.’ he pulls back and looks at her, hands steady on her shoulders, thumbs brushing over her collarbone. his gaze is intense, electric as always, even under the pale moonlight. ‘i want to run away with you and get married somewhere magical.’

kiara swallows the lump in her throat and then in the smallest voice, says: ‘but we’re just eighteen.’

‘well, are you planning on being with someone else when you’re nineteen?’

‘of course not!’

‘twenty?’

‘no!’

‘twenty-five?’

‘are you just going to keep going?’

‘i could,’ he says, and the first hint of a smile is back. his hand goes to cradle her face and she leans into it, feeling its warmth, the slight clamminess. ‘you’re it. and if you feel the same, why wait?’

kiara is quiet for a few moments, just studying him. she takes a mental image of his face and combines with another image, one from when she was thirteen and she attended her cousin’s wedding. the groom looked all done up and polished and so did the bride, and she swaps their faces with hers and jj’s, and maybe, just maybe, she can see it. 

still, she kisses the open palm of his hand, before taking it in her own. ‘because forever is an awfully long time to promise someone.’

jj smiles, softly, gently, vulnerably, and she sees him wide open to her, wearing all that makes jj maybank right on his sleeve in that moment. ‘i promise you forever even without anyone else hearing it, and then again and again until the whole world knows it.’

kiara giggles, until she realises he’s still being serious. it’s alcohol, making him a poet, but it’s jj, behind those words. it’s all jj.

her jj.

she looks over at their friends and knows she wants to spend the rest of her life with them in it. she looks at jj, and knows she feels the same about him. 

and really, there’s no difference between the rest of her life and forever.

so she kisses him. ‘okay.’

'okay?’

‘mhm,’ she says. ‘are you sure that’s what you want to promise?’

he looks at her with more love in his eyes than she’d ever seen before. ‘forever?’

‘yeah.’

jj kisses her. ‘in a heartbeat.’

she lets her head fall on his chest and he pulls her close, again, until they’re just a tangle of limbs and hair and a shared bottle of beer, discarded somewhere between them. 

yeah, thinks kiara, forever sounds like a good amount of time.

(she never says yes, technically, and after jj makes her aware of it, she keeps trying to do it and he keeps telling her it’s too late. it’s a bit of an inside joke -- technically, they’re not engaged, because she never said yes, and it’s funny, somehow.

to jj. 

kiara finds it slightly irritating.

but she does get her chance a few months later, in yucatan of all places, with nobody but their friends and a priest to witness the event -- it’s a beautiful day, as it always is when they’re together, and jj holds her hands as he says his vows, which are not much different than his proposal.

the familiarity of the situation soothes her anxiety, and if she was ever questioning doing this, it’s all gone. how could she?

after all, in her vows, she promises him forever. 

‘it’s an awfully long time to promise someone,’ she says, smiling, and gives his hands a squeeze. ‘but there’s no one i’d rather promise it than you.’

sarah cries and cleo makes fun of her for it, but so does john b, and pope just says they’re a match made in heaven, with john b accidentally confirming it’s their turn next. 

kiara and jj spend their wedding night with their friends before crashing in a hammock next to their tent, because why would they rent a place when they can just exist, freely, in nature -- as they’ve always wanted?

as they lay together, curled up as they were the night they got not-engaged, kiara seems that forever is starting to seem like an awfully short time to promise jj.)

[comiiical]

open to men who bottom

connection: neighbours, friends, exes, delivery guy coming to bring materials, garden dude, up to you. all but a thief, because a thief would get yeeted XD. (and family is too tightly set so unless you’re officially so avoid that too)

it was a rare view to see allen outside the house, rarer in deed, was to see him enjoying the sun, but the artist was in a mood to delight himself with nature and not surrounded by metal and the heat of the fire. instead, he had decided to go outside, and enjoy, for once, his own yard. he had worked on it, cut the grass, tend the plants, and, checking in case anyone could be seeing him, giving some bright life to the apple tree that crowned his garden, then, using the hammock by its side and enjoying the shadow that it brought to his face, laid down on the fabric. wearing no more than a very tightly filled brief, with a big big big +18 symbol on its front, one leg bent and the other spread to the side, giving himself space to breath and find the biggest comfort possible. ears filled in with the music that came from his airpods, and the music that played within the house. yes, he was enjoying himself for once. and what life had given him.

[hollyhomburg]

You make me flutter (Vmin x Fairy! Reader)(Drabble)

W.c: 1.8k

A/n: this is just pure fluff. i have no excuses other than that i saw that video and completely melted at the idea of vmin finding fair reader while they where looking for four leaf clovers! please enjoy this and tell me if you liked it 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Jimin and Tae are on a date (their 4 year anniversary date to be exact) looking for a four leaf clover in a field when they find you- a fairy sleeping among the clovers with cute little iridescent pink and green wings, huffing out little puffs of fairy dust as you sleep

jimin is so awestruck by you that he doesn't notice Tae stepping close, shoving him at the last moment. tae narrowly avoids stepping on you and startling you so bad that you flutter awake and strain your wing. They’re so apologetic and since you can’t really fly- they insist on taking you with them and taking care of you at least until your wing heels. You agree shuddering to think of all the mean cats or hawks that might prey on you if you can't fly away.

you pout and complain once you see the state of all of their houseplants cuddling up onto one of the leaves of their fiddle leaf fig and putting your hands on your hips pouting “you’ve done her so so wrong- what? have you guys never heard of watering more than once a month?” both tae and jimin shrugging bashfully- apparently their neglected house plants all have some nasty things to say about jimin and tae.

You decide to stay with the boys who have sweet smiles and nice hair to hide behind when you stand on their shoulder. you meet their friends- yoongi who scares you because he reminds you of the cats that used to chase you when you lived in the wild, namjoon who has dimples so deep you could hide in them, and seokjin who looks pretty enough like a fairy that you ask him if he was one. 

this question is created by laughs by taehyung and jimin and a bashful smile by namjoon and seokjin. There have been rumors about fairies turning human after they get close enough to them- but you’ve never put too much stalk in those ghost stories. seokjin just laughs good naturedly - winking after he tells you that he has no idea where you might have gotten that idea. the rest of their friends just groan- now he wont shut up about how he’s “pretty like a fairy!” 

You become a fixture at their apartment, riding on their shoulders from place to place while your wing heels. You take naps in the pockets of their oversized hoodies, make a hammock out of one of tae’s silk scarfs, and flutter around their heads when they oversleep in the morning your wing slowly healing- but not well enough for you to sustain flight yet. 

And in the evenings they make you a bed out of a soft fluffy cushion shaped like a heart and feed you little dollops of whipped cream on spoons until you're so full you can barely fly. until taehyung has to carry you- you cuddling up and hugging one of his fingers to his chest so that you don’t fall off, refusing to let go when he plops you down onto your bed. 

(many a night taehyung and jimin have woken up to you cuddled between both of their pillows, and taehyung groans a little and pokes fun at the way you get their sheets all messy with fairy dust but jimin knows taehyung really doesn't mind) 

You don’t seem to have much interest in human food beyond sweets like ice cream and fresh fruits like strawberries that you might have encountered in the wild. you love the little cakes and macarons. cutting those like jimin and tae would cut a cake when jimin brings you them home from the bakery.

Jimin tells himself it's just a special treat but if that were true then he probably wouldn't buy you them every chance he gets, leaving early one morning just to get to the bakery when it opens. bringing back an assortment of sweets so that you can try them all and find the ones you like best. 

Jimin wouldn't do that for no reason right? even if that reason was just loving the way that your wings will flutter fast like a humming birds when you taste something you really like. lifting you partially off of their table with how happy you are. 

when you finally do heal enough to fly you stick around for a few days and taehyung and jimin learn to leave the windows open so you can come and go- you’re never gone for more than a few hours at most. but taehyung still finds himself worrying. you’re a small fragile thing and he hates to think of you getting stuck in a gutter or being surprised by a big bird or even falling asleep on the hood of a car and having it drive off. 

you bring them back four leaf clovers and tae holds you close in his big hands and says “why would we need a good luck charm when we have you?” the longer you stick around, the more worried they get that one day you’re going to just up and leave and head back to the cloverfield you once called your home. jimin finds himself worried every time he shouts for you and you don’t come- worried that you’ve finally moved on from them. But no- when they ask- you tell them that you won't leave.

you like their company too much you tell them. you like feeling small and protected when they let you curl up on their chests while they take a nap. or ride on yeontans back to travel quicker around their small house on the outskirts of seoul. “You know flying seems much more convenient” tae would comment wryly one day, “yeah but tan’s fluffy!” you’d comment happily, the little puppy jumping and running in circles with you on your back.

They both heave sighs of relief when you tell them you’ve decided to stay. neither of them needs to ask the other to know why they dont want you to leave. it’s always written on their faces. whenever tae catches jimin watching you as you struggle to learn how to cook in your tiny form, fluttering back and forth through the window to go fetch more herbs from the neighbors garden 

tae would complain that it’s technically stealing- but you’re the one who actually charms the plants to grow as well as they do so Jimin convinces him the occasional sprig of thyme is proper payment for your services. and jimin see’s taehyung's fondness every time he heads back through the grocery store to pick up another thing of ice-cream for you. 

they’re a little hopelessly endeared by you, taehyung finds it hard to concentrate on the days when you flutter back and forth through the open window intent on working as many dandelions and pink clovers and daisies as you can into his hair. you always pout when he has to take them out, almost angry. jimin finds it so cute how you look at all the human clothes magazines and ask them if they have anything more your size.

One day you fall asleep all spread out on jimin's shoulder and without thinking he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your head saying softly “i wish we could show you more of the human world” before softly falling asleep. Only to wake up to you full sized in their bed! and completely nude! your little fairy clothes completely torn to shreds!

and after a mini crisis where everyone ends up screaming in surprise, and taehyung and jimin throw some of their clothes at you to try and cover you up. they’re so happy! you looking down at your hands, checking your back to find your wings gone accept for a faint tattoo against your skin, a weird irradiances in the pattern of your wings. You didn’t tell them a true loves kiss could turn you human! but you’re not upset by it now they can finally show you all the human world has to offer!

You end up falling over a lot, you're so used to your wings being able to steady you when you get off balance- but now its taehyung and jimin that catch you when you start to fall. sometimes holding onto you a little longer then they should. 

They take you on dates to movies (which scare you a little) and dates to the botanical gardens and riverside park (which are your favorite) and jimin and tae learn quickly that they need to keep their fridge fully stocked with whipped cream or else you’re going to try to wander out into the human world to find some on your own.

you still go back to the clover field occasionally, little day trips on the weekends, sitting with them heaped on top of a blanket, winding clovers into crowns so they can wear them on their heads, both of them lulled into sleep stretched out on either side of you. taehyung with his head in your lap and jimin with his face pressed into your knee. 

and when jimin and tae wake, they find little clover rings tied around their fingers, you looking shyly down at them, hair spilling wild over your shoulder the same way it used to when you where a tiny fairy always a little wild and unkept but beautiful. “i saw on the movie-”

 “tv” Taehyung corrects, looking at the clover on his finger, “the tv” you correct yourself. your fingers brushing softly over the swell of his cheeks, his lips, your other hand lingering on jimin's side as he lifts up his hand to get a better look at the ring on his finger 

“That people give each other rings when they mean alot to each other- is this okay?” jimin sits up and pulls you close to kiss at your cheeks, cupping both of yours in his hands, the ring soft and sticking out on his finger, 

“Of course it’s okay little lovely, we love it, we love you” it startles taehyung how true those words are, they might never have said it but they do love you, all of your quirkiness, the way you still talk to the plants every morning when you water them, the way you’ll still press your face into their hair when you’re feeling shy, the same way you used to hide when you where barely taller than a glass of water. 

“Now we’re just going to have to give you one” Tae teases, making you blush and jimin giggle. they meet each others eyes and lean in at the same time to press kisses to your cheek and the corner of your lips making you turn a color pinker then the clovers on your fingers. 

(the sound of their laughter rattling off into the edge of the woods where a few dozen small pairs of eyes linger- watching the three of you lounge in the field, another of fairy kind lost to the curse that is human love. Some of them are a little angry with you- at least seokjin still drops off a basket of bread occasionally- they haven't seen you in months! but oh well- as far as curses go, human love is a curse you’ll gladly bear)

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ (Please reblog and comment! likes are nice but they do little to support content creators)*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧