#aurmeric

[myreia]

A Question of Home

Rating: Explicit Characters: Aureia Malathar, Aymeric de Borel Pairings: Aurmeric Words: 2143 Notes: An unplanned sequel to A Question of Desire. Set the night before Baelsar's Wall. Read on Ao3

I need to thank Lucia later, Aureia thinks distractedly.

It occurs to her that she and Aymeric are very fortunate there was no one in the halls. She has been to the Carline Canopy and its associated inn more times than she can count and the halls are never empty… Not that she can give it much thought much attention right now. Not with her legs locked around him and her mouth firmly on his.  

He lifts her easily, fumbling with the handle before he pushes his way inside. Her chambers are small and modest—little more than a bedchamber and a connecting bathroom—but Mother Miounne insisted she be given a room with a view. The windows are large, the gorgeous detailing on the border only enhancing the beauty of the forest beyond.

Aymeric nudges the door closed with his foot and breaks the kiss, casting an eye about her room. Small lanterns hang on the walls, illuminating the room with a warm glow. Though the decorations are simple, it is well-furnished and inviting—and a complete disaster. Though Aureia has spent little more than five minutes in here, the room is already a mess. Her pack on the floor, its contents upended. Extra clothing strewn about, some hanging off the back of a chair, some piled haphazardly on the dresser. Only her weapons—staff, rapier, focus, the tools of her trade—are set away with any care, positioned respectfully in a corner.

It’s always the same whenever she arrives in a city. Some habits are impossible to break.

He coughs, covering a laugh, and leans his back against the door.

“What?” Aureia says, brow furrowed.

“I see you have approached Gridania with your usual flair,” he replies, a smile playing across his lips.

She tilts her head, scanning his face from her position above, and threads her fingers through his hair. She can never help herself; she has always loved playing with his hair. Humming with satisfaction, she bows her head and nuzzles his cheek. “Is that a criticism?” she murmurs.

He laughs and adjusts her weight, hoisting her higher. “An observation, perhaps,” he counters. “That you live in a state akin to a maelstrom—”

She trails her lips across his jaw. “Oh?”

He inhales sharply. “I wouldn’t change a thing. Though a thought has occurred to me, for the next time you visit Ishgard—”

She cuts him off with a kiss. He groans softly, leaning into it, and she laughs with delight. “Save it for later,” she murmurs against his mouth.

She can feel him smile.

Aymeric shoves off the door, carrying her across the room with quick, powerful strides. Aureia tightens her legs, squeezing her thighs to prevent herself from sliding down. She kisses him fervently, her hands drifting from his hair to cradle his face. Her heart flutters, the heat of anticipation already coiling deep within her.

They have reached her bed.

“Don’t put me down,” she breathes. “Not yet.”

He chuckles, eyes shining bright. “Whyever not?”

She loops her hands around his neck and draws herself upright. “Because I enjoy being taller than you,” she says with a little wriggle, testing his grip. “For once.”

His hands press into her rear. “Ah,” he replies, his gaze flickering over her. He lingers on her face, her collarbone, her breasts. The intensity is enough to make her blush. “If you want me on my knees, you need but say.”

She cocks her head, raising an eyebrow, and whoops with surprise as he loosens his grip, setting her on the bed. Her coat flips out behind her, the rich red fabric vibrant against the bedspread. He cradles her, a knee pressed against the mattress, and kisses her as she kicks off her boots. Her breath hitches as he trails from her mouth to her ear, gently caressing the lobe. When his tongue flicks against the tip, she all but melts, a little moan escaping her.

Chuckling huskily, he trails kissing down her jaw and her neck to her collarbone. His fingers are already pulling her shirt from her trousers and tugging at the buttons.

“Aureia…”

He mumbles her name against the hollow of her throat, his breath warm against her skin. Her hands brush against his as she claws at her clothing, eager to have it undone. She tears the buttons—she doesn’t care, she can fix them later—and pulls her shirt open. He sinks to his knees before her, his nose skimming her sternum, and kissing her collarbone, the tops of her breasts, her stomach. She gasps at his touch, heat pooling between her legs.

A low hum murmurs deep in his throat as he reaches her trousers. Unlacing them quickly, he hooks his fingers into the waistband and peels them away with practiced hands. The room’s cool air ghosts across her skin, sending shivers down her spine as he grips her hips and pulls her to the edge of the bed. His palms slide across her thighs, coaxing them apart—

And then his mouth is on her.

The first touch sets her senses aflame. His tongue glides through her folds, sweeping through her with unrestrained ecstasy. She gasps, swallowing a moan as he flicks her clit, trembling with pleasure. He chuckles at her response, his tongue roaming across her, through her, drifting in intoxicating circles. Her head tilts back, her hair brushing her shoulders, and she closes her eyes, giving into the sensation.

“Gods…” Her hands tangle in the bedspread, twisting fistfuls of it between her fingers. “Aymeric, I—”

He shifts his weight, relishing the mewling noises he coaxes from her with every lap of his tongue, and slips a hand between her thighs. His fingers press hesitantly at the entrance to her cunt, gliding through the slick heat. She groans and spreads her legs further apart, her hands now threaded in his hair.

“Go on,” she breathes, chest heaving. “Go on, please—”

He obliges. She moans, tugging gently at his hair as he slips two fingers inside her. Exhilaration clouds her mind, pleasure rippling through her with every thrust. He sucks her swollen clit, stoking her desire, urging her towards the edge. She gasps his name, chest heaving, and shatters beneath his touch. Her hips buck, nearly throwing him from her, but he holds her tight, kissing her through the throes of bliss.

Exhaling a long, satisfied sigh, Aureia glances down, her fingers still in his hair. Aymeric draws back and looks up at her coyly from beneath his long, dark lashes, grinning from ear to ear. He rises up and kisses her gently, cradling her back as he pulls her close.

“Content?” he murmurs.

She smiles and loops her arms around his neck. “With you?” she replies, breath still ragged. “Always.”

Her hands wander across his chest, toying with the thick fabric of his uniform. She fiddles with the clasps and belts, slowly shedding one piece after another. It’s not easy maneuvering around someone so much taller than her, but she manages, flicking away his hand whenever he moves to help. Soon, his robes and armour are a collection of blue and gold on the floor.

Aymeric stands naked before her, skin glowing warm in the lantern light, and cups her cheek. Leaning into her, he kisses her once, and lets them fall into the bed, pulling her on top of him. She straddles him and shrugs out of her coat, letting it slip from her shoulders to her elbows. The pleats flare out behind her, draping over her rear and across his legs.

She pauses, sensing him watching her with that captivated look he saves only for her. With an impish smirk, she tucks her hair behind her ears and rolls her hips against him. He grunts, face flushed, and his teeth scrape his bottom lip.

“Content?” she challenges, arching an eyebrow. Her gaze does not leave his face as she fiddles with her breast band, quickly undoing the knots and clasps. She pulls the garment free and tosses it aside, toying with her breast as she grinds against him.

He stares wildly, drinking in the sight of her. It is so rare to see him speechless, and yet tonight he has no words.

Not that she needs them. He hardens against her, responding to her touch. Leaning over him, she presses a quick kiss to his mouth. Then she reaches between them and takes his cock in her hand, guiding into her slick heat.

He groans, trembling, as he slides into her. She locks eyes with him, setting the pace, breathless at the feel of him moving inside her. He grips her hips, adjusting her position, and slips his hands beneath her open coat and shirt. His fingers rake across her back, mindful of the scars, marveling at the feel of her body against his.

She quickens the pace, heart hammering in her chest. Her body is alive with an energy to which no spell—thunder or otherwise—cannot compare. She bucks against him, guiding their paired pleasure to its zenith, sweat clinging to the nape of her neck and beneath her breasts. They move together, panting and breathless, lost in this moment they have carved out for each other.

He gasps as he comes, her name a jumble of vowels on his lips. She pulls free, falling against his chest, and he wraps an arm around her. He slips a hand between her legs, seeking her clit, and sweeps a finger across the slick, sensitive nub. She quivers, consumed by her blooming pleasure, and kisses him, moaning against his lips as he strokes her to her finish.

Lightheaded and dizzy with desire, Aureia disentangles herself from her coat and shirt, lobbing the garments onto the floor with the rest of them. She collapses on top of him and buries her head in the crook of his neck, clutching at him as if she can never let go. He holds her, those strong arms wrapped around her, and kisses her forehead.

They lie there for some time, tangled together, watching a sliver of moonlight on the hardwood floor. Outside, the woods dances in the wind, the canopy’s leaves black against a deep purple sky strewn with stars. Aureia has never felt more at peace. She wonders if it is the same for him.

“The thought you had earlier,” she says after a while. She props herself up on an elbow and runs a hand from his shoulder to his forearm, staring intently at their hands as she twines their fingers together. “What was it?”

He chuckles and presses a kiss to her cheek. “While your propensity for staying in inns is charming—”

She shoots him a look.

“—and logical,” he adds quickly. “I thought that perhaps you should consider a more permanent solution?”

“We’ve been over this, I’m not staying at House Fortemps. I can’t, not after Haurchefant—”

“Aureia—”

“I’m happy at the Forgotten Knight, it’s what I’m used to—”

“Aureia.” He runs his fingers through her hair, tucking a lock behind her ear. “I was not speaking of House Fortemps.”

She meets his eyes, a lump forming in her throat. If he is proposing what she thinks he’s proposing… No. They can’t. The uproar it would cause. He’s too important, too crucial for Ishgard’s advancement, he can’t involve himself in a scandal. At least not so openly.

 “Aymeric, I…” She exhales a long breath. “I don’t know about that.”

“Even so, you should have a place to call your own. In that way, no matter how far your duties take you, you will always have a home to return to.”

Her stomach twinges.

Home…

Can she even call Ishgard home? Does she even dare? Home has brought her nothing but grief. She fled her first home, sending herself into permanent exile for the atrocities her family committed. Not along ago, she called Ul’dah home, but she lost that, too, to treason and greed. It’s a sad tradition, one that makes her heart ache if she thinks on it for too long: whenever she chooses a place to call home, it is inevitably ripped away from her.

She can’t bear to let that happen to Ishgard. To him.

Then again, that he even dares to ask her that question now, when they are on the brink of so much uncertainty and chaos… It is nothing but a demonstration of how much faith he has in her. Neither of them know what will happen tomorrow at Baelsar’s Wall, but there is no doubt in his mind that she will return to him.

Just as she always does.

She smiles and curls into him, grateful for his warmth. “I’ll think about it,” she says, resting her head on his shoulder. “That’s the most I can promise.”

[444names]

the entire article on canini (tribe) from wikipedia + tolkienesque and russian forenames

Aarim Abdarasip Abnon Achindion Adarion Adondil Adragonwë Adury Afoddan Afont Agafastr Agaldoge Agaláf Agamin Agavian Agavin Agavudill Aglór Agorniel Aihiono Aihir Ailens Alion Allian Allsevoll Amburine Aminikar Amitted Anatárin Andimilm Andoce Andog Anfakip Angorin Aniend Animirsa Annar Aradree Arahalmo Arahel Aranur Ardagor Ardir Aregilan Areley Aresepped Areus Argen Argor Argymnor Arimrod Armer Aronor Arottonus Arviar Astiu Atamrotin Atangwas Atarkyan Augdogrob Auglan Aulad Aulethal Aurmer Avaitan Avder Avdeslana Avdista Avego Avegon Avelas Avelent Avends Averaham Averd Aviarfin Avinamros Aviped Avith Avksi Avkton Avraeg Avreth Avsec Avsen Avsich Avudossë Avulvent Avvan Avvant Avvatr Badûn Balack Baregas Barkya Batinae Belan Belato Belelwë Belethow Belron Beraereꞓ Beran Berey Beril Beriocyn Berry Boftel Bolcwik Bolenna Brahirsa Brant Bravianwë Burmalgor Cabor Carkyar Carmal Castinaid Celava Celetalan Ceoark Cestembel Cilavra Cilya Clast Clorba Coloth Colvel Comin Daeus Dandet Danya Danyata Darasin Darilm Deluil Deras Derus Devorn Diful Dorador Dwine Dwinennad Déalente Déotrim Eislav Elagapior Elavgus Eldilo Eldwyn Elemmar Eleph Elrongdor Eluka Enasist Endbe Ensisil Erearia Erena Erober Ervid Eucalmo Eurenil Eutely Expanara Exted Eäred Eärely Eärenes Eäres Eäreus Faltroma Famin Famir Famlim Famrana Famronwë Fanten Feassë Ferattor Feritan Fimilmast Finar Fincan Fincoya Findily Fodre Folaw Forother Frodrim Frostened Fréaw Fungen Furos Furwenya Fëanth Fília Fílibûn Fíliběnah Galdhor Gamlian Gaperind Gelfhis Gelum Genne Giman Gimin Gimind Gimirin Gliilad Gline Glirë Glora Golatar Goldin Golenca Gopus Gorachar Gorana Gorus Gothel Grapeleo Grildan Grinerth Grion Grionir Gropica Gross Gríant Haikhîm Halen Harvengwë Heleglu Helimbol Henowmar Heram Herth Herthéod Holfhen Hormarand Horonin Horostam Hostoid Hunírdeph Húriong Iběnaina Iland Illavid Ilmas Ilros Imbrand Imilzôn Imron Imurons Infantis Ingolass Iniclas Inisa Inzinyë Islar Islastery Islavrim Istjarand Isubolgel Ivaldoth Josence Kakov Kilmair Kipern Knoccina Kowynus Kílingen Ladmin Ladras Laharan Lanteus Lavakum Lavia Lavvanim Lendor Lentemy Lethos Limlod Lopetar Lopha Loser Lubog Lubor Lubtr Ludir Lumbo Léomergo Léoth Lúthamir Magales Magon Mairon Makiya Maldoce Mamillata Mances Mannair Maran Maranti Maritë Maulemes Meghâl Meninzil Menne Mentemena Merin Milka Millack Millata Mithreril Monna Morookes Mstaldwyn Mstennar Míritte Nastoh Nelpina Niellay Nimei Ninad Ninoceli Nomagapet Noviewor Nákhôn Oddan Odracir Oldoros Onduil Orria Orthorn Ossalcha Ostonomir Paletul Palmorgy Pamin Pectel Penia Perdim Pessë Phado Phylob Phyur Picomir Poriamdír Poslaghâl Preuky Prikal Primon Radakt Randir Ranimirus Ranya Reatr Rephall Rohil Rotto Rundelly Rútha Sardam Scron Shofther Shord Sifamber Sipesil Sisenomy Skumentan Smabarko Snomardir Snopeoar Socyomel Speriked Stasi Stocyon Subomes Sviel Súrin Talos Tancand Tanderigo Tanenwë Tanist Taral Tareg Telmor Temerum Temma Tendentic Tendur Terdey Teril Thernia Thesortz Thinican Thosec Threthir Thrya Théodgs Tinotin Tinya Tionwë Toron Torondus Tossi Trion Tryothode Turodrór Tyate Túrië Ullsel Ulpina Umbaláf Urfiya Vadrah Vadûna Vakulë Vanten Vatulfin Veldar Venocyon Venwë Veregoth Viafan Viely Vithrepre Vlimbaray Volian Vorts Vseus Waeus Whised Winaikir Womily Wortz Yeasy Yekal Zerry Zilya Éodgs Éoromir

[gronglegrowth]

Nalihhidroth fashion, plus @ladyhlaalu's Aurmer.

[thebastardgreenlady]

Not sure what I was going for here but I drew a random Aurmer on the back of my book

[smileys-mega-art]

This character is called Malum witch something for evil due to thair perpose for creation however this specific android would rather work as a butler for the hero's son phidically the character is ancient but the software that makes thair personality is around 17

This carecter is cored in a metal scale like armour witch can open slightly and shoot fire via a magic enchantment that works as a thruster.

They are also genderless being a robot but look feminine becouse to make more thair maker wanted to make them more flexible while resembling a humanoid form. They go by she and her due to people often thinking she is girl in aurmer

She has the ability to mimic actions by repeatedly viewing them during tests with a friends of the hero they became attached to a butler uniform and wishes to serve.

They are 4-7

They view the scientist who ran her tests to be her mother and the scientists wife as well.

Her tests consisted of qiuzes fights and races but they were humane.

[myreia]

2. “Go rest.  I’ll take care of it.” for aur and aymeric? :O?

A Question of Desire

Rating: M (for some sensuality, nothing explicit) Characters: Aureia Malathar, Aymeric de Borel, Lucia Junius Pairings: Aurmeric Words: 1791 Notes: Set the night before Baelsar's Wall (don't spoil me, I haven't done the dungeon yet). This is still fairly early on in their relationship, but we are ignoring the Aymurcrilda drama for now. Prompt: Prompt #2 - “Go rest.  I’ll take care of it.”

Twilight has come to Gridania, casting a purplish-grey hue across the forest city. The first stars peak through a break in the trees, twinkling quietly. Lanterns flare to life one by one, illuminating the maze of walkways and bridges, guiding folk home. The city hums with life and laughter, its citizens going about their lives as they always do, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing on their doorstep.

For one more night they can continue as they are. For one more night they may know peace.

Aureia watches it unfold from her position on one of the Carline Canopy’s upper floors. It has become her safe haven for the night, a place away from the endless barrage of questions and concerns. Though she had wanted to deploy for Baelsar’s Wall immediately with Thancred and Yugiri, practicality won out in the end. She has been pushing herself too hard and brazenly as of late. Though tonics keep the fog of exhaustion at bay, even she has her limits. Her mind is sluggish, her reaction time poor, her focus jumbled. A year or so ago, she would have pushed through, but now…

Now she knows better.

“Lucia said I would find you here.”

She smiles at the familiar voice and cranes her neck, looking over her shoulder. Aymeric stands in the threshold, still in uniform. His piercing blue eyes soften as he lingers on her face, observing her with quiet affection. Warmth floods her, flushing across her cheeks. She’s still not used to how quickly he changes from the grave, relentless commander to a man shamelessly and hopelessly in love with her. He has never told her has much, but she doesn’t need him to. No matter how far apart their duties take them, the joy he feels when he sees her again is palpable.

He cannot hide it. It is not in his nature.

“Habit,” she replies as he approaches her. “Always need to get the lay of the land. It helps me think.”

He draws up beside her and looks outwards, his gaze sweeping the path to the aetheryte plaza. “I can understand something of that, I think. But I must admit, stepping foot here…” He pauses and inhales a deep breath, catching her eye. “Aureia, may I admit something that is at once terribly foolish and terribly self-serving?”

A gentle breeze rustles her hair, blowing it about her face. “You?” she replies, raising an eyebrow. “Self-serving? Now, this I have to hear.”  

“I am envious of you.”

“…me?”

“The places you have gone, the people you have witnessed… You are a wanderer at heart, travelling the breadth of Eorzea, touching the lives of those you meet in ways large and small. Ishgard’s isolation has served not only to divide Eorzea from Ishgard, but Ishgard from the world. There are many great wonders beyond our borders, and perhaps our lives are made worse without them. Would that I could join you someday.”  

Her smile fades and she exhales softly, looping her hands together. “It’s not self-serving to wish to travel,” she says firmly. “You’re allowed to want things for yourself.”

“Perhaps. But not now. Not with so many things left uncertain—”

“Ser Aymeric?”

The reaction is instantaneous. Together, they turn as one and to find Lucia in the entranceway. The knight observes them quietly and cocks her head, her gaze passing from one to the other.

“What is it?” he asks.

Lucia straightens, quickly falling into a respectful stance. “Your counterpart in the House of Commons has duly requested a formal update regarding our involvement in the Alliance’s venture,” she announces. The annoyance in her tone is palpable. Aureia does not doubt that if she had any other choice, she would have chosen not to deliver this message.  

He closes his eyes and passes a hand across his face. “Now? Very well, I will—”

Aureia puts a hand on his shoulder. “Surely this is something you can trust to Lucia,” she says. “She is your second-in-command, she speaks with your voice. Surely you trust her to do so, no?”

In the dim lantern light, she can swear she sees Lucia smile.

Aymeric flounders. “Of course I trust her,” he says. “But—”

“Very good, ser,” Lucia interrupts. “I will draft a response on your behalf. And, if it is not too bold of me to say, ser, perhaps you should take the time to enjoy a night without paperwork for once. Allow me to take care of this.”

He sighs, shoulders slumping.

Lucia bows. “I will see to it that you’re not disturbed,” she adds, doing her best to hide a triumphant little grin. “Fury knows you need a break.”

“Me?” Aymeric says wearily. “Or her?”

“Both.”

Giving Aureia a pointed nod, Lucia disappears through the threshold and out of sight.

“By the Fury,” Aymeric mutters, turning back to the balustrade. “She shouldn’t—”

“She’s right,” Aureia interrupts. “You can’t do everything yourself. In fact, you shouldn’t. There comes a time when all leaders must delegate their duties. Besides, Ishgard isn’t going to break if you look away for a minute or two.”

“You say that, and yet…”

His words hang heavily in the air. After a year and a half of constant crises, it seems Ishgard can only manage stability in two week increments and only with Aymeric at the helm. Which, when she thinks about it too much, is distinctly unfair. He has given Ishgard too much of himself, and, as thanks, the nation turns around only to ask for more.

Aureia cranes her neck and shoots him a glare. “I am being serious,” she says. “Whatever you feel you owe to Ishgard, it doesn’t change the fact that you are still your own person. It’s not wrong for you to have time to yourself. It’s not wrong to have hopes and desires. You are no less honourable for that.”

Aymeric does not argue her point. Falling silent, he glances down—quite a distance, as the top of her head barely reaches his shoulders—and brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. Her breath catches in her throat, her heart aching at the touch. Though there is no reason to hide her heritage here, she keeps her hair down, her pointed ears covered, more out of habit than anything else. The gesture may be small, but it means more to her than words can say. She fled Ul’dah with pieces of herself chipped away. When she arrived in Ishgard, it was easier to hide the damage behind a wall of ice and stone.  

It is only recently that the wall has come down. She can’t return to her former self, but she can at least take comfort in who she is now.

“Give me some grace, Aureia,” he says teasingly, cupping her cheek. “I am new to this line of thinking, but I am trying.”

“All right, then,” she counters. “Give me a list.”

His eyes widen in shock. “A… list?”

“Three things you want for yourself—and no less than that.”

“…right now?”

“Right now.”

He trails his fingers to her chin, lifting it upwards. “I can think of one,” he murmurs, meeting her eyes.

Her heart flutters. She wraps an arm around him and leans in, reaching for the hand at his side. “Go on,” she says, threading her fingers with his. “I’m listening.”

“Though perhaps it is better shown than spoken. You did speak of desire earlier, did you not?”

She nods, exhaling a trembling breath, and grips his hand. Taking that for her answer, he stoops, pressing his lips to hers in a soft, but fervent kiss. Her heart pounds, her face flushed with warmth, her fatigue from the day and fears for tomorrow evaporating in an instant. She melts into him, kissing him back with unrestrained joy. She has never felt safer than when she is in his arms—just as he is never more at peace than when he is in her company.

He draws back, his lips a hair’s breadth from hers. “Aureia…”

Sensing his hesitation, she loosens her grip, casting an eye across the balcony and the city beyond. Though they have some privacy this high up, they are not fully alone. A glance in the wrong direction from any of the passing pedestrians on the path below would raise more than a few questions. And while she is not afraid of their burgeoning relationship, she does not want to attract more gossip than she already does.

She steps away.

“No.”

The word rumbles in the back of his throat. She pauses, eyes wide with surprise, a tingling feeling rolling down her spine. The assertion with which he said it makes her head rush. Rising up on tiptoe, she loops her hands around his neck and pulls him into her. She kisses him—quickly, desperately, as if this could be the final one. He groans and turns his head to the side, deepening the kiss. Her lips part. His breath is hot in her mouth, his tongue gliding by hers, the kiss now brazen and fearless. She can feel him shaking, swept up in the thrill of it all, the overwhelming ecstasy of carving out this moment for themselves, despite their circumstances.

If she has learned anything in the past two years, it is that there is no time. No time for anything at all.

Pulling her away from the balustrade, he sweeps her into an embrace, hands on her rear, and lifts her up. She laughs, fingers tangled in his hair, and wraps her legs firmly around him. She is higher than him now, and bows her head to kiss him, her hair falling about their faces in a tangle. She has always found a special delight in his strength, how easily he can carry her. Most of her days are spent with a certain level of measured control. To give that up, to relinquish it wholly to someone she trusts…

Her heartbeat quickens, desire coursing through her. She feels it so rarely, and yet with him it easy. Simple. She is forever grateful.

She nuzzles his cheek. “Aymeric,” she murmurs, her lips brushing his ear. “Come to my chambers.”

He shifts, adjusting his grip on her, and stares rapturously at her for a moment, taking in every detail of her face. “Gladly,” he says. “Willingly. I have been waiting for you to ask since your arrival.”

She raises an eyebrow, unable to hide her grin. “All that time? Your composure is admirable.”

He doesn’t dignify her teasing with a response. Kissing her openly, he carries her from the balcony and down the hall to her rooms.

There will be time for duty when the sun rises.

[myreia]

Heavensward: Sohr Khai The sky is the domain of dragons How wilt thou contend with such mastery?

[myreia]

A reunion in Gridania.

[myreia]

One of the many reasons I love using ao3 is the download option.

I started writing a sequel to Divergence of the Heart last week and it took until today for me to realize that I had saved over the original file in my OneDrive... by giving it the same wip name.

That would have been a 50k completed fic lost if not for the fact I could download it from my ao3 profile, toss it back into a word document, and save it with the rest of my fanfics.

Problem solved. Nothing happened. No imminent disasters, I am a perfectly functional human being who knows what they are doing at all times. 🫠

[gronglegrowth]

Space god of the Aurmer.

Aurmer belong to @ladyhlaalu/@ladysaintamaryllis.

[gronglegrowth]

Aurmer? In Morrowind? It’s more likely than you think

[gronglegrowth]

Flow

[gronglegrowth]

Royal Aurmer. @ladyhlaalu...

[gronglegrowth]

Space god Aurmer?

[gronglegrowth]

Some rough concepting for Aurmer clothes. The Aurmer belong to @ladyhlaalu.

[gronglegrowth]

I didn't post this earlier but here's a quick concept for some Aurmer weapons for @ladyhlaalu