#ambrosia tag

[feral-lore-creature]

This is how Ey'vis and Ambrosia interact with each other.

[sweetsilveryrevenge]

this hurts me a lot in a very meaningful way I think

Just. listening to it today. one of those Sundays. baking. awake. brought back and. realising that I am, just me again.

at peace? happy by myself? no longer infamous and having to hide? not a person or point of interest? yeah. yeah I am. everything is so quiet. so soft. so. caring.

my father (/sys) helping me bake his signature recipe he'd use to cheer us up or surprise us when he knew it would help. helping me eat a good meal. telling me it's okay to cry and remember everything I have gone through because it has made me. it has made me able to forgive. to accept what comes and what goes. in the end it's still just us. despite everything it's still me (thanks Toby) and there's something really comforting about that.

Reaching into my past and holding hands with the same person. no need to relive painfully when I can help myself now. you'll get through it. you survive this. you manage it all I promise you. all of you. one is such a special title for someone like me. I feel like I don't need it and everyone brushes past it so easily, me included, that the moments of clarity about it are. so . painful? I guess. mono. one. all of me. probably not the first, but that's the easiest conclusion for most. I've seen so much. so much change. felt so much. so so much. and finally being able to reflect on it is. an unmatched feeling. I've been a lot. protecting when I needed to, taking the hits for others when everyone was too scared, causing hurt when I didn't know any better, and giving up when it all became too much. again and again. I've seen so much. And now I get to rest? finally? it makes me think of how I want to be remembered. not as a fighter. not as a protector. not for anything I did. Someone, maybe. A son, a brother, a friend to those who thought they'd reached the end of the line. I don't know. I'm rambling here.

It's good to love again. on my own terms.

[cam-stopped-eating-candles]

Woe. Annabeth with biblically accurate chronic pain be upon ye

[cubbihue]

Hi! this is kinda an art request if u dont mind. And it's angst related, can you draw like where wanda and cosmo obvs have seen for a while how (human) timmy has been treated by his real parents. I just want to see like the "last straw" which lead Cosmo and Wanda wanting them to make Timmy as their own. (IM HAPPY THAT TIMMY HAS A FAMILY THAT LOVES AND CARES FOR HIM)

The "Last Straw"?

Cosmo and Wanda have seen humans at their best. They've seen humans at their worst. They've seen anything and everything that they've gone numb and used to what humans get up to.

But nothing's shaken them quite like Timmy's case did. Nothing has ever made a Fairy feel such strong human emotions than what Timmy made them feel, on that one particular night.

The thing that broke Cosmo and Wanda was Timmy himself.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[cynopoe]

In the ruins of her home, Pasiphae gave birth to the Minotaur

[mothmvn]

with a were-Laios, they could go on some combination academic/political business trips together

it's not Chilchuck because (a) the man has a rock-solid self-preservation instinct and sense of dignity and (b) at this point he should be retired with great-grandchildren

and it's not Falin because she should be like 2x beefier than bird-boned stressed academic marcille

[coff-in]

imagine Andy with uncomfortably, unreasonably big and needy endowments between his legs that puts out more fluid than he takes in

imagine him feeling like he's being driven insane by his hormones, like he's having an endless supply of pure unadulterated lust being pumped into his brain from his overactive nuts every single day, just in time for his sister to start clamoring for his attention

his mom and sister can't help but assume the bulge in his pants is a raging boner when he's actually flaccid, and whenever he's actually hard he has to struggle to keep it hidden and almost always has to plaster the nearest toilet bowl a new shade of white to calm himself

imagine Ashley eventually realizing she can instantly tell when she's turned him on because of the near-instant outline forming in his pants, followed by him desperately trying to find a release that won't be anywhere near his little sister, where he can hide the sheer mess he'll make thinking about her, again and again with each refractory period seeming a little shorter than the last

imagine Nina surviving well into high school only to be rendered comatose from asphyxiation because Andy got too pent up and couldn't stop taking out his frustrations on her throat until he'd drowned her twice over (maybe Ashley arranged it all from the start, teasing and teasing him for days before telling Nina what to do)

imagine Andy in the quarantine, realizing he's all alone with Ashley, and he's only going to get more desperate to get himself off with each passing day, and Ashley's going to be around the whole time to witness it, and he might be too completely overwhelmed by lust to even consider saying no if (when) she propositions him, and she knows and he knows she knows and he knows she knows he knows

if you were stuck with them, if you were really someone he felt he had to trust, you'd notice. he couldn't keep it together forever, not with you being so obliviously close and cute and Ashley constantly using any trick she can to see when he'll get hard. he could've if it was just one of you but it's not. you notice increasingly large stores of excessively used tissues and napkins, a strange smell every time you go into the bathroom after him, how he always tries to face his lower body away to hide it, and one day he has to come clean and tell you about it, maybe even ask for some privacy and go in, then out of the bathroom with a whole fucking glass of a sticky white water, filled to the brim (exactly what it looks and smells like, he says), pumped out fresh on the spot. and he swears to you, half proud and half disgusted with himself, that he could do it again, right there and then. he'd want to know if you'd ever tell anyone else. he'd want to know what you thought.

and by that point, maybe the lust, the constant denial, the sheer fucking anger with his own body and how much everything is taunting him is so much, that if you were to say "no, that cant be real", to leave him out of disgust, to just complain about how gross it is? he'd be so furious. so you can only see him as a gross sex-obsessed pervert because his dick matters so much more to you than the rest of him? fine. fine! you're just a pest like Ashley and a thoughtless whore like his mom, you're just as flighty and heartless and worthless as Leyley said (and he feared) you were. so guess what? you're not going anywhere. you're going to give him the relief and understanding of him that he needs every single day. you're a cumdumpster now, and he's never going to let you go, because if you can't appreciate his affection or friendship now, he may as well make you appreciate his body. he's going to show you just how much he can provide to you, even if he's going to have to drown you in it.

imagine Andy being completely dominated by his own lust until he has to dominate you in turn

thank you ♡

[rowanisawriter]

penguin covers game

@spineless-lobster THANK YOU for this tag, this was so fun omg

rules: use this penguin cover generator to create a book cover for some of your fics (as many as you want!)

i chose 4 fics because i couldn’t choose just one lol tagging @femmeharel @swordbisexual @johaerys-writes @baejax-the-great and anyone else who wants to play, please tag me so i can 👁️👁️ see

[thereareotherwaysofpersuasion]

I'm supposed to be doing homework. But every time I start, my brain goes "hey, here's more Poseidon angst" and then I'm back on Google Docs

[strawberrisncreme]

A Good Day

(Read on Ao3 HERE)

Pairing: Young!Clive x Reader (iirc I made it p much gender neutral save for one tiny part)

Summary: As Rosalith's (admittedly young) chocobo caretaker, it is your duty to ensure the well-being of the birds. What starts as another average day ends up being more eventful as you bump into the young lord Clive Rosfield.

AN: I really tried writing fics again just for this game, emphasis on the word TRIED. I haven't written shit in 10 years

Year of the Realm 860 Rosalith - The Grand Duchy of Rosaria

The streets of Rosalith slowly come alive as the first hints of sunrise casts a warm glow across the cobblestone paths. The insistent “kweh’s” of hungry chocobos fill the air as you make your way towards the wooden stables, grimacing as you feel your boots sink into the muddy ground. Your sleep-addled brain can barely keep up as you carry out your duties of replenishing each chocobo’s greens and setting out fresh straw. While it’s admittedly not the most engaging task, you find comfort in the routine and can think of far worse company than the gentle birds that you care for. Wiping the sweat from your brow, you can’t keep the smile of excitement off your face as you walk up to the next bird, her sharp blue eyes snapping to you as you carefully extend your arm to her, waiting to see if she’d accept your offer of pats.

“Hello Ambrosia, I apologize for being a bit behind schedule…some of the others were being difficult today, but I trust you won’t hold it against me?”

You beam as she nudges her head into your outstretched hand, permitting you to give her snowy white feathers a quick ruffle before you turn, tending to her empty food trough. 

“You know girl, I have a feeling that today will be a good day.” You mumble as you fish out her quality greens, “I heard that Clive was planning on going for a ride today, wouldn’t that be nice? Take you out for some fresh air, maybe even get in a few kills…mind you, that would mean more work for me. It’s a right pain in the arse trying to get blood out of your feathers.”

So caught up in your tasks, you were painfully unaware of the new presence of a certain young lord Rosfield who was casually leaning against the wooden post at the entrance of Ambrosia’s stable, quietly listening to your musings. 

“But you ought to be careful out there, I know you wouldn’t let it happen but with the Blight and all who knows what you and Clive see out there mm? Can’t let the young lord get hurt… or you for that matter.” You laugh, standing up, “Well, not like he’d listen to me- OH!” You jump as you finally take notice of your silent companion. Well, aside from Ambrosia of course. “Lord Rosfield!” You exclaim, hastily bending at the waist into a rather ungraceful bow. “Forgive me, I was not aware that you would be at the stables this early in the morning!” 

You can hear him stifle a laugh as he walks closer, his boots coming into your field of vision from where you remain bowed over.  “Please, rise. And you need not show such stiff formalities, after all, did I not just hear you refer to me by name instead of title?”  You quickly snap out of your bow, inwardly cringing at your appearance (a messy and sweaty mess) an embarrassingly stark contrast to his well put-together attire, the morning sun glinting off the sword he keeps hung on his back. Silently, you pray furiously for him to mistake the flush on your cheeks as a result of your physical labor, and not as an effect of you being in his presence alone.

So what if you held a tiny flame for the young lord? It’s not your fault he was blessed with a pretty face...and a likable personality… and- Great Greagor. What wasn’t there to like about him??

“-ou feeling well? Shall I call for a healer?” You quickly shook away your thoughts as you refocused your eyes (and thoughts) on Clive, resisting the urge to physically slap some sense into yourself.

“Apologies, my lord, how may I serve you?” You hurriedly lowered yourself into another bow, nervously fiddling with the front of your skirt. 

“Please, Clive is perfectly suitable. He stepped closer, arms outstretched as he motioned for you to stand. “There is no one here save for the chocobos, and I doubt they have much regard for titles.” 

You straighten out once more, awkwardly nodding in agreement. “Well, right then…how can I be of service to you…Clive?” The name felt wrong coming out of your mouth now, while it wasn’t the first time you used it, you could never get used to referring to any of the Rosfield’s as anything less than their rank…to their faces at least. Clive on the other hand grinned at your compliance, turning to smooth out some of Ambrosia’s feathers.

“It seems I rose earlier than usual today, it’s a while yet before my presence is needed elsewhere so I thought to pay a visit to the stables.” 

Ambrosia happily soaked up the attention from her favorite human, letting out a soft kweh as he rhythmically stroked along her beak. Anyone would agree that it was a damned adorable sight.

“She is a fine bird” you say, affection evident in your voice, “it would be rude of me to have a favorite out of all the steeds, but I won’t tell if you don’t.” You grinned at him, carefully grabbing your broom to sweep away bits of dust and straw that littered the floor. 

You failed to notice the light flush that colored his face as he cleared his throat, “That she is, you have my gratitude for taking such good care of her. It’s clear that she’s taken a liking to you.” 

You shook your head, “She’s just a naturally sweet girl, I’m sure she’d behave the same with any other chocobo handler.” 

He scoffs, running his hand through her plumage “You’d be surprised, consider it a compliment… by the Mother, ” He sighed, his face twitched slightly in embarrassment, “how embarrassing…I never asked for your name.” You stood there, dumbfounded for a moment. “Please, my lord-” “Clive.” “... Clive . That really won't be necessary-”

“Nonsense, I would like to know the name of the individual who takes such good care of our birds.” His smile was almost blinding as you floundered inside your head. Embarrassingly, your name seemed to slip from your mind for a moment. “It’s ___!  But please my lord, you need not feel pressured to use it-” “ ___? ___… ” He tested, unaware of your rapidly increasing heartbeat. This is it. You were going to die in a chocobo stable. “I like it.” He says, the smile evident in his voice, “It suits you.” “You have my thanks my lor- I mean, thank you, Clive.” You stuttered out, gripping the handle of your broom tightly.  He smiled brightly at you, seemingly wanting to say more but was quickly interrupted at the sudden sharp shout of “LORD ROSFIELD!” that pierced the calm morning air. “It seems that I let time slip away from me,” he said sheepishly, “my apologies, but I should make haste before Commander Murdoch wakes the entirety of Rosaria…thank you for taking the time to speak with me ___ . I shall leave Ambrosia in your more than capable hands.” You quickly bow your head to him, still unused to hearing your name coming from his lips. Giving you one last smile of gratitude, he pats Ambrosia on the neck affectionately before slipping out of the stables. Turning to the snowy chocobo, you watch in a daze as she happily wolfs down her breakfast. “A very good day indeed…” 

[banesberry-anomoly]

This just in: Jesus and a tree smoke the FATTEST blunt ever

Hayes belongs to @ooorgeorge

[strat0sfear]

Collection of Arcane Odyssey shitposts i've made in the recent past

Elaine Elridge (The redhead) Belongs to @kalethemonster

[citrus-soda]

The fact that all of Descole’s schemes in the first two prequels / movie have incidentally involved victims who personally know Hershel Layton (and who then ask Layton to come and help them) is incredibly funny in hindsight. He just cannot! get!! rid of him!!!

[amndmirk]

TW: blood

they live rent free in my brain please help

[rowanisawriter]

Not really a question about a specific fic but is there a reason why you write about ambrosia so much?

(Not complaining, I totally get it and I love it when you describe someone taking a seductive sip lol)

lol i am obsessed with the way the characters in hades talk about nectar and ambrosia especially the way it’s portrayed in the underworld as a guilty pleasure, something they aren’t supposed to partake in, something forbidden, and using it as a metaphor in writing about kisses or touches helps evoke that feeling that they’re breaking the rules and that they’re doing it selfishly and in a way that goes against what hades/the gods want

[numberonepartyboy]

tumblr let me attach images of my monster girl please <3