#and you can kinda see him in the dialogue

[c-oupsie]

okay, my love, i am here to officially request ruining vernon with some kind of vibe around these dialogue prompts "do you know how long I've been waiting for this?" and "Use me. Fuck Me. Do whatever you want, but god, please touch me"

like that general vibe of desperate vernon wanting to be ruined and used??? i am feral at the mere thought

you can go wild with the rest of it, and you dont even need to write it smutty if you don't want, just do what you feel it right, bby. i just request the vibes, man, the vibes.

i fear i will go insane and ramble forever if i don't send this rn omg

luv u bby 💗

[9:12AM] - vernon

ⓘ college student! vernon x tutor! f! reader — college au, SMUT (MDNI), reader is mentioned to have big tits and thighs and some pubic hair, kinda bottom! vernon, sloppy make out, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, handjob, spitting, overstimulation, bodily fluids (cum).

1.8k words — note. thank you for requesting, my love! (and thank you @haologram and @beomcoups for beta reading ‹𝟹) you know I love writing a desperate vernon, so I had a field day with this one. hope you enjoy ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ )

oh,

oh,

oh, fuck.

this is not what you're used to seeing during your advanced arithmetics tutoring private lessons, but alas, you're not one to complain; not with such a delightful sight first thing in the morning.

not when said sight makes your eyes twinkle, your heart pound, and your pussy clench impossibly tight around thin air the more you look at it—the more you look at him, your favorite student sitting on his single bed, back resting on the wall behind him, eyes closed and head thrown back, his usual adidas sweatpants pulled down just enough for his impressive dick to be free of restraints as his slender fingers jerk it off with expertise.

and your eyes lock in on it, completely entranced by how flush, and long, and curved, and pretty it looks—just like you always imagined—just like its owner: vernon, a second year student that, although actually pretty good in arithmetics, begged you to tutor him for an exam he just couldn't seem to pass. today was supposed to be the final session before his test, but with the scene unfolding in front of you, you suppose that's not going to happen.

to be fair, you should've texted him to let him know you'd be coming over about half an hour earlier than agreed—but how were you supposed to know that you'd be catching him like this? moaning and groaning and whimpering while desperately milking his own cock? so desperate he didn't hear your knocks, or you opening his bedroom door?

and fuck. you know you should turn away and erase this moment from your mind, but instead your eyes trail up from his dick to his blissed, completely fucked out and sweaty face. his lips are full and plump and red because of all the slow torture his teeth are putting them through in a futile effort to stay somehow quiet and not be heard from his roommates—the same ones who let you in just moments before.

your naked thighs start rubbing together, seeking some kind of relief, but all it does is make you even hornier. you can feel your own arousal slowly trickle down your inner thighs, eyes again locked on his angry cock, leaking and leaking non stop as it gets fucked with his hand.

then, a deep, guttural moan leaves vernon's lips, and you quickly go to look up at his expression, only to find him already looking at you. desperate, frantic—needy. you gasp at how intense his look is.

“____” vernon's voice is broken, breathless, his hips now jolting with every stroke. “please, please-”

“fuck…” you whisper, the knot in your lower stomach starting to tighten as he whines your name, as he begs you to help him in the prettiest, dirties way. 

you're getting dizzy just looking at him—and there's no way you can resist him, so, heart pounding, you turn to lock the door and seconds later, you find yourself standing between vernon’s spread legs.

you groan as you throw your backpack on the floor, eyes never leaving his clouded, lustful ones. how someone can look this fucking pretty and pliant, just waiting for your next move, is a wonder to you.

“hands off.” you say all of a sudden, and his eyes widen. hesitantly, he stops stroking himself, his pink tip drooling with precum, but he doesn't unwrap his hand. you click your tongue, then, bend forward so you can face him. 

“____ …” vernon whimpers when your minty breath hits his flushed face, his adam’s apple bobbing at the sight of your full tits being held up by your tank top—the sluttiest one he’s seen you wear thus far. the amount of times he’d gotten off with them in mind, dreaming about kissing, licking, fondling, fucking them was embarrassing. 

thoughtlessly, his fingers start moving on his shaft again, but you hastily grab his wrist. 

“off.” 

and this time, he obeys, the look in your eyes causing a shiver to run down his spine, and he can’t help it when he groans: “use me. fuck me. do whatever you want, but god, please touch me.”

at vernon's words, your pussy clenches, another trickle of arousal running down your hot skin. you don't think you’ll ever hear anything hotter than this, from a pretty boy like him nonetheless, for the rest of your life.

you're so fucking wet.

“do you know how long I've been waiting for this, nonie?” you mewl, your thumb tracing his bottom lip while your other hand drops his wrist, your fingertips now lightly tracing the veins on his length. he shudders. “wanna know how many times I pictured you saying those words to me?” you continue, your voice charged with raw lust. “how many times I’ve had to hold myself back from pulling these fucking sweatpants down?” 

he forces his eyes to stay open, forces himself not to cum the moment you spit on his cock and wrap your hand around it before starting a slow, lingering up and down movement—however, vernon's eyes do roll back a little when you push your manicured thumb inside his mouth. 

“and hell, do you never put underwear on? or is it just for our tutoring sessions that you skip out on it?” you lightly squeeze his weeping cock, thighs rubbing together when he moans around your finger. “god, I could see your cock twitch every time I took a glance at it. bet you loved watching me drool at how hard and big it looked under these.”

vernon's dick throbs in your hand, his hazel eyes jumping between your eyes, tits and fingers covered in his precum. 

“fucking perv.” you mutter, popping your finger out of his mouth to grab his wrist and bring his hand to your chest, the little black tank top you picked today doing nothing to hide how hard your nipples are for him.

“god–” vernon’s voice cracks when he gets a hold of your boobs, his long fingers wasting no time before starting to knead them, and his warm, sticky with sweat palm, paired with the rough fabric rubbing against your sensitive nipples causes a whimper to leave your lips, pussy pulsing under his mesmerized gaze.

in a swift movement, he pushes down your top, and his length twitches in your hold when he finally sees them naked because, as always, you had— “no bra…” he breathes, admiring your perked up nipples with a dreamy look. if he didn't start toying with them the second after, you probably would've giggled at how adorable his face was.

“yeah. made me a perv too. look—” you whine, your hand still jerking him off painfully slow as the other reaches for the one button holding your skirt up. you unbutton it, and the cloth falls down to the floor, revealing your bare, drenched cunt to his eyes. “look what you do to me, nonie.”

he could see your arousal dripping down your legs, the morning rays dancing on the skin of your plush thighs, and the sight of you, your pretty, fiery eyes looking down at him, glorious body almost naked between his thighs, pretty pussy on sight, his own hands playing with your tits while yours stroke his dick—

fuck– vernon wonders how he still hasn't busted the fattest nut in the universe.

“you’re–” he gasps out, “so, so, gorgeous-” he barely manages to say before your lips finally smash against his own with a high-pitched moan coming from you. and as you whine and whimper in his mouth, your tongues clashing for the first time, all he can think is how much better this is compared to all of the wet dreams he’s had about you.

and then, he can feel it– can feel his high approaching, fast. your hand’s strokes become quicker, more expert, and he can barely fucking think as he can feel your knees sinking on the bed, now straddling him.

“wan’” he struggles to speak, mind clouded by so much pleasure he feels as if he’s about to see the golden gates, but still, his hand slides from your full tits to your hips. his words are muffled when he says: “wan’ you to feel good too–” 

your hips jolt forward when his slender fingers trace your pussy lips and the little patch of hair on top, before immediately finding your clit—throbbing, waiting to be played with. and so, vernon does.

he wastes no time trapping it between his fingers and teasing it with his thumb, making you gasp and yelp in his mouth desperately, your hand struggling to keep a steady tempo jerking him off, your kiss becoming sloppier, messier by the second. 

“s-slow down—” he’s the one to beg when he can feel his balls and abs starting to tighten, his high imminent. “ple– fuck– no-” he continues, but instead, you keep going– even faster, your melodic moans, your bouncy tits his hand is still kneading, your warm pussy as he continues toying with your clit only speeding the process.

“don- don’ hold back, nonie–” you almost sob, nails raking at his scalp as if begging him. “cum for me. wanna see you cum–”

and vernon is but a man—a man who’s been having a crush on you for months. a man who's been jerking off for a good twenty minutes before you walked into his bedroom. a man who truly hopes this isn't the nth dream he has about finally getting to have you. a man who, even if he’d love to make you cum first, he knows he’s reached his limit—so, he cums.

he cums with a whimper, his eyes crossing, and with his hands fondling the soft skin of your thighs. and god, does he cum a lot. thick ropes of release shoot out and land on his stomach and torso, half covered by the black zip up on him as he moans and gasps your name. 

that’s almost enough to make you cum too, your cunt dripping even more as you help him ride out his high, your lips drinking in his every sound and sigh. then, after what feels like forever, vernon pulls back from your kiss and, if you could, you’d take a picture to immortalize the moment.

he’s unsurprisingly gorgeous, even more post-nut. his eyes are glazed, his cheeks are deep red, and so are his lips: full and puffy after being tortured by yours. 

then, a glint in his eye, and a finger tracing your drenched folds before it slowly teases your entrance.

“this is the last time I’m coming first.”

⨯ taglist: @aaniag @dokyeomkyeom @soonsgrl

[blackstar-liveblogs]

Alright, potentially last post of the day.

I did not only watch Krow, but I also tried to find Scott across the POVs as much as possible, because man was discussing lore and spilling more important lore pieces for his character off-stream.

What I catched tr!Scott did and say today (any referenced dialogue will be heavily paraphrased) (also read more cuz not a short list of events):

- He jumpscared Owen and asked what happened after he left the day of the ball.

- Owen: We failed and they (the three chosen) vanished.

Scott: ... See, this is why you don't do the maximum effort.

- Owen: So yeah, Aimsey is gone forever.

Scott: Oh- What do we do now then?

Owen: I mean, I don't know, our faction leader is still here-

- Scott mentioned that he returned to the castle to retrieve his things. A Keeper was there but not replying, so he went around and took his designated shulker box, then another Keeper showed up and he basically said ''I only took my stuff, I swear.''

The Keeper also gave him the Teal Titans' base painting.

- Scott showed Owen that during the first game of the ball he grabbed the materials for a Maze. He held onto them, waited if a team ever asked for them, but none ever did, so now he's going to make his own Maze.

- Owen briefed Scott on what the Keepers said of ''now that your most valuable members are gone, let's see how you manage the quests'' and showed him the quests. Then, mentioned that the three vanished are permanentely gone. Scott was taken aback but asked if he was sure.

Owen: I think it's hopeful thinking, to be honest.

Scott: You... don't want Aimsey, Ros and Pangi to come back?

Owen: (Laughs) Moreso Ros.

Scott: Yeah, I get it. Like, if someone you don't like disappears, you would not want them to come back.

Owen: Exactly.

Scott: I can understand some of this stuff.

- Scott parted ways to grind cyan dye and wool for the quests. Also discovered that Bad's farm already had sheeps with cyan wool, and both him and Owen concluded that CPK did that earlier that day.

- Scott showed up again at the castle while Foolish, Tubbo, Ros and Bek were talking.

They talked a bit about the Maddening, the corruption and how it could be affecting Ros. Foolish mentioned that between Ros' changes in behaviour was ''less violent.''

Scott: (Turns to Ros) Wait, you don't want more violence? (Kinda excited silly chanting). No more violence! No more violence!

Ros: I mean... what kind of violence?

- Foolish proposed that Scott and Ros should be attached to the hip (or something like that).

Scott: ... Why would I need to be attached to the hip with Ros? (Turns to Ros). Not that I mind, you've been lovely with me so far.

Ros: Oh, thank you...

And he gave her golden apples.

- The conversation turned very loud, which made Scott overstimulated and he irish goodbye'd out of there. He went to find Pangi at his house.

- He asked if he was okay. Pangi told him about the Null and how Aimsey and Ros got affected by the corruption, but he is fine. Scott pointed out the purple on his arm, but Pangi brushed it off as ''his mind it's fine and doesn't know why.''

Scott said that what he thinks is that all three of them went through a traumatic event and might need time to recover, just like he needed time to adjust after he was a snail.

They talked about the corrupted people with clear evidences, like Pili and Aimsey. Scott actually did not know Aimsey had a purple eye until Pangi pointed it out.

Scott mentioned the people who were fully reset and came back fine, so they don't know how it exactly works. He also thinks that Owen came back more sane, so he doesn't really dislike the conversations they have.

- Ros joined the conversation eventually, and Scott reassured her the same way he did with Pangi, mentioning his own experience. Here is where we get the new important piece of information for his character.

Scott: I asked about the Null to see if it was something similar to where we were when we were snails. (Pangi told him it was like a never-ending tunnel). I think what we felt was like a... warm box.

And

Scott: I don't know anything from before I was a snail, I just know... feelings that I had. But I'm re-learning everything, which is kinda hard when everyone on this land resorts to violence so quickly.

(OP side note: tr!Scott showing to be fond of his ''giant snail buddies'' always coming back to meeeeeeee).

- Scott mentioned his observations that some people were shocked that they were back or the fact that they could come back at all.

- More people joined in at Spawn. Krow eventually did too, and again, my crumbs when Snoozer put Foolish on Krow's head.

Scott: Wait, Krow, you have him hostage, go go!

Krow: Oh yeah! (Runs to the water).

Scott: Drown him, drown him!

- He offered Ros the Teal Titans' HQ as a place she could go if she wanted to rest and be alone, and that she did build it after all, he just did the interior.

Ros did not remember this, so he pointed out where it was and saw her leave.

- He gave golden apples to Snoozer.

Shortly after, Scott logged off for the day. I don't think he had any chance to talk with Aimsey since they were very busy with their contract mission alongside Sneeg. But I'm not entirely sure, I did not witness everything that happened today nor every stream, people are free to correct me.

But he was doing what he usually does. Gathering as much information as he can of the situation to understand it and form his point of view. Also loving to have more crumbs of his lore.

Is it like really bad to hope he and Krow get to do lore together once he knows about who he used to be? (I am not that hopeful Freddie and Jonnaay will log on soon gkbgk).

That I want to believe he was not told about yet, because it's quite an important revelation for his character and man was off-stream fjvfkgkh.

Let's see how it plays out.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

filler

[buwheal]

We can't hear it Spam, but it's real to you. I get auditory hallucinations a lot, and usually what helps me is a distraction. Maybe... name 5 things you can see? Or make paper airplanes with old messages, or draw some pictures. Otherwise, I'm sure someone has a crossword or story they can send you to help you out!

[miyku]

[sotc]

I FINALLY BEAT TRESPASSER AOUGHHHHH i am feeling so much. I LOVE YOU DORIAN. I LOVE YOU SOLAS. I LVOE YOU BLACKWALL. I LOVE YOU COLE. I LOVE YOU JULEIC. I LOVE YOU TRESPASSER MUSIC. I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE MY INQUIZZY AGAINNNN

[jaxieus]

I think something is wrong with my copy of monster

Timelapse 👇

[mugentakeda]

the tapping of his fathers pacing on the tile is almost enough to drive him mad.

“don’t let your brother’s incessant whining cause you to falter. this is merely a short visit to discuss the matter at hand, and then you’re on your way right back to ba sing se. he will try and whisper doubt in your ear.” the firelord stops to shake a finger at him. “do not listen to him for anything! i will help you in the best of my ability to have this taken care of.”

“i’m not,” iroh snaps impatiently, digging his palms into his eyes. “i’m not listening to him, father. he doesn’t care for lu ten and he doesn’t have to. he has his house and i have mine. empty words have little meaning to me at the moment.”

his father purses his lips. the sting of his stare digs down to the core.

“you say that,” azulon snaps, “but i believe this to be a family affair. its possible lu ten was taken advantage of because he was too busy protecting ozai’s wife and ozai’s children to protect himself. if that’s true, then ozai owes him. i don’t give a damn if he cares about him as his nephew or not. lu ten honored his house, so he shall honor lu ten in return by shutting his trap for once.”

iroh doesn’t have the strength to respond. he’d left ba sing se in a rush after receiving the news, and ordered the shipmen to get him back home on the double. he’s sick, he’s tired, he’s terrified and angry, and he misses his son something awful. the last thing iroh cares about right now is what ozai does or has to say.

there’s a heavy, sad sigh from above him. azulon slowly makes himself comfortable on the sitting cushion next to him, grunting as his bones creak. he sets the knocked over teacup straight again and refills it. the familiar heat and fragrance does nothing to soothe iroh, however.

“there is nothing i can say to make you feel better as of right now,” his old man mutters, sitting the teapot back down with uncharacteristic gentleness, “nor can i say anything sure about ursa or the children. but lu ten, he…. he is a remarkable young man. thick skinned and ornery. lightning generation at only 21, can you believe that? he beat you by a whole year. you must have faith in him.”

“it’s not about having faith in my son, father, of course i have faith in my son. but i have no faith in whoever has- has stolen him from me!” iroh suddenly exclaims, gesturing wildly. azulon flinches as his hands come dangerously close to knocking over the tea again.

your boy flagrantly disrespected you and stayed home to laze around, ozai had hissed, his narrow eyes locked straight up at the throne. both were kneeling before their father’s throne, side by side. i don’t know why you even bother. if he thinks he’s so grown up then he can save his own skin.

iroh didn’t bother to respond. he has nothing to say to his brother even on the best of days. all his life, he’s been nothing but a background character to iroh. always insisting on holing up in his room or office, never joining family dinners or celebration banquets. never one to offer his congratulations, but expects his older brother to offer his. yet, he always liked to think his word was of any significance to iroh. that he was always to be heeded. respect to his elders only means something to his little brother if there’s something to be gained.

flagrant disrespect. lu ten did not disrespect him if iroh never directly asked or ordered anything of him in the first place. he implied it, and lu ten pushed back. it hurt, but it would’ve also been the boys first true venture outside the fire nation. so iroh understood the hesitancy.

iroh would’ve just had lu ten by his side in his war council anyway. he would’ve never seen the battlefield or the city until iroh leveled it. not a spot of green would be spared by his men.

he had envisioned himself shooting a hole right through the flimsy palace wall with his lightning, and his son by his side. winning.

nothing has gone the way you made it out to be, great spirit. i don’t feel very lucky, as of late. the evening sun peaking through the tall windows of the corridor offer his thoughts no response. the general sighs heavily, and continues on his way.

the royal procession had gone through the beach house, along with the rest of the island. not a trace left behind. no sign of a struggle, either.

the procession claims it’s like they vanished out of thin air, sir, jee had whispered.

delicate situations such as this one call for holding the ones you trust most closer than ever. thus, iroh took only his personal guards from ba sing se back with him. jee is a rugged and introverted man, one that iroh knows can keep a secret, so he has been acting as his messenger man and valet for the time being.

another member of his most trusted circle is one of his longest working servants, one that belongs to iroh’s house personally. her name is su, and she is a stout woman around his father’s age. stern and silent, but trustworthy. she was the one that kept a close eye on lu ten from a distance during the periods of time iroh wasn’t around in his youth. she had been the midwife at his birth, she had been the one to pick the wet nurse.

and she had slipped iroh a journal outside of lu ten’s room. leather bound and stained in a deep red, with delicate embroidery of lotus flowers decorating its cover. it looked like something the lady ursa would gift him.

i came across this left behind in lady ursa’s garden, your highness, she had murmured fiercely. i snatched it right up and held it for you upon your return, lest it fall into the wrong hands.

the dark, warm silence of iroh’s own chambers is a small comfort, but the cold leather of the journal in his hands chains him to the cruel reality.

one of the vows iroh made for himself when lu ten came into puberty was that he would never violate his son’s privacy. he’d like to think that his son’s life possibly being in danger is a good enough reason to break it, but it still feels… wrong. especially now that he’s an adult himself.

it’ll be like eating a dollop of wasabi, he tells himself. spicy and painful one moment, then fading tingling the next.

with a sigh, he cracks it open to the back page. a few lines of familiar scrawl.

and the reason i torture myself trying to ignore all these things about him that bother me is because….

he looks away, shame crawling up his back. the candle sitting at the corner of his desk flicker along with his irregular, fear ridden heart.

a dollop of wasabi, he reminds himself. he opens his eyes again with a long breath and looks back down at the journal once more.

…well, that’s the crux of it. i just don’t know how to finish that sentence anymore.

that tells him a whole lot of nothing.

iroh flips the page back again, and is immediately overwhelmed by completely filled pages. then startled, by the sheer amount of times his own name pops up to his searching eyes among walls of scrawled text.

unease curls in his gut, like a dragon slowly rising from a slumber.

the ink doesn’t look too old. and su had said she found it in the lady ursa’s garden. and then jee said the royal procession claimed the fours’ trip to ember island was only to last three days, tops.

and as far as iroh knew, lu ten had been keeping quietly busy after iroh’s departure to ba sing se. lu ten willingly buried himself in paper work, always hunting for things he had the power to make into his business. training with lightning generation was grueling, and took hours, on top of the meditation necessary. and it takes a clear mind to even work with lightning, so…

had he done something recently to upset lu ten, and didn’t realize it? what things about iroh did lu ten torture himself trying to ignore? dramatic wording like that is difficult to overlook.

the general thinks back to how well his son can hide his emotions. lu ten’s court face beats even ozai’s, so it made him a gnarly pai sho opponent, but… he never did the backhanded comments. he can lie, but he’s a man of action before a plotting one. so you’ll never see the storm coming until it hits you directly in the face.

the letters he got back from him in ba sing se were… neutral. unbothered. he hadn’t seemed very troubled at the palace gates during his departure, either. tired and a bit wary, maybe.

but now that he thinks about it, the way lu ten looked at him had been… strange. his eyes had an emotion swirling in them that the general couldn’t read.

he rapidly rolls over the most recent letters in his head, the days right before leaving, trying to think of what he might have done to set lu ten off-

…the tiff they had on the evening before iroh’s departure.

he had forgotten about it completely.

spirits, he’d forgotten about it by the time he stepped foot on the shore. the elation of finally arriving at ba sing se, the first big step toward fulfilling the biggest thing he’s wanted to accomplish his entire life, the ultimate win, decades of planning and dreaming, inspired by agni herself…

he’d been caught up in the heat of the moment.

it didn’t even turn into an actual argument, that’s how small the tiff had been- a few things thrown back and forth during their private dinner, and the rest of it had been spent in awkward silence. iroh had let his hurt get the better of him, and he got testy.

the only thing that spoiled his ongoing luck, his relief of finally being able to go and crush his country’s most stubborn opponent, to make the second biggest win since sozin- was his own son not joining in, or showing any interest.

and that wasn’t even it. the closer iroh and his advisors got to bringing their planning to a conclusion, the more withdrawn lu ten became. whenever iroh brought it up, his son would close like a firelily in the night.

i assumed you were above teenage rebellion, iroh had muttered. i understand you want accomplishments of your own, but-

teenage rebellion? you’re joking, right? why do you always insist on- on patronizing me whenever we don’t agree on something? if you think you’re gonna guilt trip me into changing my mind, you’ve got it all wrong.

the disbelieving, ever so slightly shriller tone lu ten’s voice took on reminded iroh of his mother. she always had the habit of raising her voice a few pitches when she got upset. it reminded iroh of a coyote-eagle, once upon a time. the older lu ten got, the taller and leaner his face and physique became, the more time they spent apart, it’s like a vivid repeat of his mother. he even became a hand talker when iroh hadn’t been looking, just like fuhua.

(are habits hereditary, or had fuhua died after running away, and came back to haunt him?)

it’s probably best to start a bit further back in the journal. it might provide the context this father needs. he flips the pages for a few moments, and stops at random.

i spoke with a gentleman from the earth kingdom today during my observational trip through the colonies closest to the homeland. if you didn’t look close enough, you would’ve thought him to be any old fire nation fisherman, but i know green eyes when i see them.

his wife was a sailor that hails from caldera city. they met across the seas, in a neutral port town. they have two young twins, just barely older than zuko and azula. isn’t that something?

now, that is something iroh never bothered doing when he was a young man- it’s only now that his joints won’t let him run around chasing skirts anymore that he’s become a people person. but he’s proud of his boy for taking that initiative and having such a sense of responsibility, to go and mingle with the common man. an empathetic ruler that’s popular with his people will have the surest and furthest reaching authority, after all. iroh couldn’t name a single councilman off the top of his head that would be willing to even breathe the same air as a commoner, much less a colonial mutt.

however… this isn’t a colonial. he’s too keen on the idea of his family members’ abductors being petty, revenge seeking crooks from the earth kingdom to be okay with the idea of his son even conversing with one. for all they claim to be true and steadfast, them sneaking in and attacking an unarmed woman and her young children in their beach house just to get back at iroh is all too realistic of an idea.

but lu ten wasn’t unarmed. lu ten is one of the strongest men in the fire nation, and iroh isn’t even being biased about that. it takes prodigy to conjure lightning, and mastery to control it. and lu ten was very protective of ursa and the children- almost too protective. back in the day, during celebration parties at the palace, lu ten would damn near prowl around a pregnant ursa to fend off the careless crowd, lest they bump into her and jostle her. and he’d only been just a young teenager himself, so it was like watching a polar bear puppy that thought itself a snarly guard dog.

then a few years ago, there had been an incident where lu ten claimed zuko’s instructors were smacking him around. he’d grabbed both of the men by the collar and dragged them both viciously through the palace and right out the door- only after the sharpest scolding iroh’s ever heard since his mother was still alive. he’d never seen his son so angry. he’d chuckled at the way those old instructors had babbled apologies and fell to lu ten’s feet, while patting ursa’s back gently as she floundered.

no, it’s doubtful that an old fisherman had anything to do with it. earth kingdom or not. this is just something he needs to talk to his son about once he’s found. it would take a group of very strong benders to take lu ten down, at the very least.

he was wisecracking and friendly. we talked about his business, the officials that take care of the town and the surrounding environment, how he met his wife. he even shared his lunch during our time together- grilled fish, fragrant with sumac and citrus, and a chilled earth kingdom style mint tea. it was refreshing and unique, and i want to do it again. you’d think the fire nation would pick up these little things as it expands, but it just drowns it all out. i’m not sure if that’s a good thing. what made the food good was its earth kingdom style and seasoning, after all. what made the man interesting was his earth kingdom raised manner.

…what made lu ten think it was a good idea to write such things in a journal, and then be so careless to just forget it in ursa’s garden? he’ll have to thank su for her keen eye. if someone lacking critical thinking happened to pick this up and turn it in to his father, he’d have to deal with his son having allegations of sedition on top of everything else.

iroh, personally, is more than happy to let all traces of chilled tea get drowned out. it’s a frequent and light hearted debate between a father and son, the do’s and don’ts of tea. iroh is a stickler for tradition and enjoying the natural flavors. the fire nation boasted only the most fragrant flowers to enhance only the most delicate flavors of only the finest tea blends, after all.

his son claimed it all tasted like dinky dirt water, and stubbornly stuck with his cold hibiscus teas with herbs, and his heavily spiced and creamed saffron teas. it had been a big joke back then, but now… not so much.

a whole lifetime of a father making his son tea, sharing one of his passions. conversations over tea, tea for soothing a sore throat after screaming matches with councilmen, tea to wash down sea water accidentally swallowed at the beach. traditional methods, ceremonies, porcelain pots precious enough to buy a whole town- but it’s dirt water. yet an old fisherman from their greatest enemy shares ice water with a few mint leaves in a tin cup, and its unique.

and he wants to do it again.

the personal betrayal somehow hurts more than the blatant treachery written out plainly on the paper.

to be honest, i think that it’s a great shame that a good man like that has to be careful on his own property-property he paid for with his own money and built with his own hands- due to being from the earth kingdom, even if he has a strong marriage to a fire nation citizen. i thought about it for a long time, and realized that even if he wasn’t loyal to the crown, i didn’t mind. i don’t get angry at the idea, and i don’t think i ever have. i didn’t even think about it until i left. he made good company, offered to share his food with me, and introduced me to his beautiful children as if i was his new neighbor. i think community like that is something the fire nation needs. especially the nobility, who you’d think all have iron sticks shoved up their asses.

interactions like that are the most important ones to me, because they challenge me the most. i hate to cheapen that by thinking i just enjoy being challenged to spite my traditions and elders, or to be contrarian. that’s what coming of age means to me- looking inward, and asking the big questions.

…this can’t be why lu ten has been so distant lately.

the general slowly shuts the journal in dull horror. how long has this sickness had time to fester his son’s soul?

he swallows hard, and gingerly slides the journal in the folds of his robes. under no circumstance can anyone get their hands on it.

and later, when his gut quits churning and the candles around him quit threatening to set his room on fire, he’ll read this whole journal, front to back. brand every sentence, every symbol into his eyes. then he’s gonna burn it, bring his son home, and ask him what the hell he’s thinking.

the next morning, after letting the foul scent of burnt leather fade from his chambers, iroh finds jee.

“what can i do you for, your highness?”

“i need you to bring me the finest bounty hunter money can buy,” iroh murmurs. there’s a madness in his eyes and in his grip now that he’s had time to ponder the contents of his son’s journal, and what they entail. “and no matter what, it stays between us. i do not care what measures you must take to keep it that way.”

jee swallows hard and salutes with purpose. the poor man must be able to his see stress all over his face, but he’s barely containing himself the way it is.

this was no kidnapping. the blasted earth kingdom has everything to do with it, naturally, but it was no kidnapping.

jee returns to him that evening, followed by a lovely young woman, head to toe in black leather. her gait oozes confidence, and her narrow eyes scream danger.

this is definitely not the kind of finest iroh meant by finest bounty hunter money can buy, but he’ll take it.

“…i’ve, uh. fulfilled your request, your highness,” jee says. he looks flustered, and is clearly refusing to even glance at the woman.

“with a few breaks in between, i’m guessing. your collar is uneven, soldier,” iroh deadpans. he’d call it a shame if he wasn’t curbing an episode at the moment.

jee makes a faint noise of distress and fumbles with his uniform, blushing a deep red. iroh realizes that was the wrong thing to say at how the fair lady scowls at the crude jab.

she shoves past jee with an aggressive shoulder clip and crosses her arms before the general.

“i was promised a shitload of coin in exchange for some missing royals,” she says, voice clipped. “i don’t like to work with your kind, but good money is good money. and i can promise better and quicker results than any phony bounty hunter in the world- my companion is a shirshu. she can sniff out a rat from a whole continent away.”

a shirshu, eh? it would seem my luck has made its return after long last.

“impressive,” iroh praises truthfully. he’s a weak man for crass and foul-mouthed women. “i’d like to take a look at this beast, and then we can discuss the details and prices. i also hope you’re alright with keeping this transaction under wraps, my dear.”

she sneers. “you can call me june. and i’d highly suggest keeping a few steps away from my nyla, for your own good.”

jee clears his throat. “i’d listen to that one, sir. her creature is something else.”

iroh hums pleasantly, and keeps a few paces behind june as they go. a strange calm has washed over him now that the universe finally makes sense to him again; he has a few more people he’d like to question, and he’ll be all set. then sooner, if he’s lucky, rather than later, his sister-in-law, his nephew, and his niece will all be found and returned home, safe and sound. his son will be in his arms, whole and unharmed. ba sing se will simply have to wait.

and if they’re lucky, the dragon of the west won’t have thought up a better solution to finally grinding their sorry ashes into their own dirt by the time he gets back. but regardless, he will win.

[demodraws0606]

Would I be shot to death if I said TPOT is better at writing certain emotional/serious moments than Inanimate Insanity (though it is on a case by case basis).

[passerinesoncaffeine]

the irony of one the first main things established about omori as a character is that he's known for his great memory as if he hasn't lost the entire fucking plot repeatedly for years.

like he has a great memory!! if you don't take into account He's Actually The God Of Repression.

[maxiwaxipads]

Romarriche - “Your company is one of a kind… I would never lie to you. I would never say a half-truth or be quiet.” “What is it in your mind, Merold?” “Hearing your voice, complaint or not—it is music to me either way.” Merold - “If there is one constant in this world… Let it be you.” “You’re the cruelest and the kindest thing that happened to me.” “…If only you continued to look at me like that.” Romarriche - “…Merold?” Merold - “But~ It’s only a minor case of bad-mood-itis.” “So Romarriche, spoil me with a spar, will you?” Romarriche - “Merold.” Romarriche - “Look at me.” Merold - “…” Romarriche - “Is something… Wrong?” Merold - “Instead of a spar…” “I might want to lie down on your lap after all.”

[hp-lonesome-actual-art]

Another batch or Mr. Puzzles quick sketches. I kept forgetting to draw his side pocket in the last couple ones. Random character featured in the little comic-ish Live Interview is some version of doodlesona. Can’t guarantee the dialogue will be believable/sound in character for Puzzles because honestly I’m still working on understanding his talking style and when he sarcastically jokes around or when he chooses to be serious and drop performance act. But in the off chance you wanna read it goes from left to right with reading

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

The Endless Sea Between Us

sapphic fantasy romance between a witch who lives in a sea cave after her family died and was cast out from her village, and an banished mermaid who’s curious about humanity

they create a magical rune to swap species, both desiring the freedom each other’s homes promise

but when they start to grow closer the mer-turned-human is kidnapped by a witch-hunting prince and taken to his castle, and the witch must chase them down to save her

f/f, demi MC

[ruairy]

.

[the-acid-pear]

I have yet to keep inspecting the sweepstakes, I need some air and food first, but I might as well share what I've been thinking about Mike today, because I heard of an interpretation saying Mike was a camera man for Spamton which ... Is very interesting. Like for me this makes me think of Mike as someone who admired Spamton, someone way smaller than him, definitely younger imo, who simply excitedly followed along with the orders given. I mean, up to a certain point. I mean this feeling is reinforced in the q&a when asked about Mike, that makes Spamton get very defensive, almost protective. In my eyes it almost creates this almost platonic familiar bond dynamic whatever. But like this is just a shot in the dark, bc what we know is, 3 lines, period. But if when chapter 3, 4 and 5 come out and Mike is there and I'm right about these things then I'm gonna feel like a god tbh.

[givemaycoffee]

Oh my god. I just wrote an essay in the comments of a fanfic and I was like Wow, I sure had a lot to say.

And then I remembered I actually took my adderall this morning XD