#day 12 summer

[hkthatgffan]

Well, I'm 23 now!

Happy start of June and the first month of Summer, everyone.

And a very happy start of Pride Month to all my LGBTQ+ friends and followers. You're all awesome!

Art by Agentkelly13

[env0]

If l all the worlds a stage, my bathroom is one of it's many set pieces.

[leonisandmurex]

Favourite royal summer outfits

Royal summer 2024 challenge

[camelspit]

some of yall werent around for the garwin era and it shows

[shes-some-other-where]

June of Doom Day 9, Day 12, Day 25

“I made a mistake.” | “I can’t stand seeing you like this.” | Guilt

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Contains: royal whump, lady whump + dudewhump, restraints, gagged/muzzled, death mention, grief, collar (implied), threats

WC: 740

One grievous mistake

“Would you like to see your sister?”

The seer nodded, clenching his jaw around the bit between his teeth. How humiliating it would be to have her see him like this: weak, overpowered, bound, reduced to such a pathetic state. But his pride withered. Stronger, much stronger, was the need to know she was alive.

The usurper smirked and departed without another word, though it seemed he did not tread far. His voice, full of harsh, throaty notes that bespoke a deeper darkness than his cold grey eyes conveyed, drifted in through the open door as he gave orders to the guards outside: “Bring the girl.”

The girl. Not the princess, not Her Highness. Her title gone, sundered and burned on the pyre of their old life. Along with their family. Along with . . . everything.

The girl—his sister—the only family he had left.

The grief struck him so suddenly and with such violence, he gagged on a wave of nausea and convulsed in panic that he would die after all, choking to death on his own despair. Dead. They were dead. His mother, his father, his brother, who had still been round-faced and bright-eyed with youth. Tenacious and wild, outspoken and courageous.

And dead.

Yet he, a crown prince deserving of no crown and nobody’s veneration, lived. Why? What had stayed the usurper’s hand, stopped that blade from spilling his blood, too? A stroke of cruel mischance? An unhappy, wretched mistake?

It was clear, all too clear: his whole life had been one grievous mistake.

What if . . .

“Now. Hold still.” The usurper reappeared suddenly, clutching something in his hand. The seer shrank away, but where he could go? Nowhere.

Something pressed against his neck, snug and cold. The seer went rigid, certain he was about to be strangled, but the pressure did not tighten.

“There.”

No yanking, no choking, and no explanation. Whatever the prince had hung around his neck, it caused no further pain, but its purpose remained a mystery.

“What is this?” the seer demanded, but if the prince understood the garbled question, he did not deign to answer.

At that moment, rapid footsteps caught his attention, pattering down what sounded to be an echoing stone staircase, then over the dungeon floor.

“Let me in to see him, please!”

His sister’s voice gasped through the rank, rancid air. He straightened, dizzy with relief—and with concern.

She burst through the door.

A disgruntled-looking guard followed her, clinging tightly to the tail of a rope whose other end was wrapped around her wrists. She strained, trying to reach the seer, as he did the same in an effort to reach her, shouting uselessly into the muzzle.

“Let her go, you bastard!”

She seemed, as far as he could tell, unharmed: a faint crimson stained marred her throat, as if blood had dried there and then been weakly washed away, and she still wore her nightclothes, diaphanous and revealing to her captors in a way that made his stomach turn. If she realized or was bothered, though, she hid it well.

“Please,” she said, her eyes wide and desperate as she pleaded with the usurper, “untie me, let me go to him. Look at him—what have you—”

The prince tutted, grabbing her arm and wrenching her toward him. As the soldier released the end of the rope, the prince lifted her bound hands as if to inspect them. “What’s this, now? Disgraceful. What did you do?”

“Nothing,” she said, pale as her nightgown, “nothing, I just—”

“She was fussing with the window when we went to get her,” said the soldier, cutting her off. “Trying to get it open. Looking for a way out.”

“Is that so?”

His sister didn’t answer, instead stealing a glance away to meet her brother’s gaze.

Quick as lightning, the usurper slapped her.

She cried out, her head whipping sideways, and the seer roared. Neither protest changed a thing.

“I asked you a question. Is it true? Were you trying to open your window?”

“Yes, but—”

Once again, the soldier spoke over her, letting her protest crumble into defeated silence. “Leave to speak, Your Highness?”

The usurper smirked. “Granted.”

“This one will turn on you, my lord. On us all.” The soldier fingered his sword, eyeing the two former royals with distaste. “She isn’t worth the trouble she’ll cause. Let me kill her for you. Let me kill them both.”

June of Doom Masterlist

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@juneofdoom

All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.

[wiiildflowerrr]

@Ashton5SOS: Sharing this feeling with you... this is the first time I’ve seen my record in physical form! Thanks for the kindness everyone! And thank you for listening. Have a fulfilling and restful holidays 🙏 speak soon ❤️

@Calum5SOS: Gorg. Such timeless artwork.

@Ashton5SOS: 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I love you bro

12 December 2020

[iero]

I can say I hate summer all I want, but there is truly nothing like blasting a song that reminds you of summer in your car with the windows down and you singing along. Makes you feel truly alive for real.

[sometimesanequine]

6.12.2024

[something-tofightfor]

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #15: Frankie Morales - A Kiss After Pain

If you remember last summer, I took prompt requests for a series of smooches. It never got finished, and I apologize for that ... but this one WAS finished and has been languishing in my google docs for almost a year.

What was the delay? I couldn't post it until the story reached the point where you knew Frankie's secret. But @the-blind-assassin-12 .... it's happening. And this one is all for you.

Word Count: 1,796 Rating: M, for implied sex and a lot of angst ... and some blood. Takes place between chapters 9 and 10 of Liminality.

In the short time you’d known him, you’d never seen Frankie as agitated as he was that afternoon. 

You weren’t scared of him - you hadn’t ever been, even after finding out what he was. I should have been. It should have terrified me. But instead, you’d felt sympathy for the man - someone that hadn’t asked for what he was enduring, someone that took things seriously and tried his best to keep himself under control even when most other people in his position wouldn’t have been able to.

“Frankie, if there’s anything I can do, I need you to …” Shaking your head, you sighed. “I wish you’d just tell me.” 

“You can control it.” He was running his fingers through his hair, the Standard Oil ballcap you’d grown used to discarded on his couch. “Not a hundred percent of the time, but enough. Enough that you don’t need to fucking …” He growled, spinning away from you and striding toward the back door, both hands balled up onto fists and hanging by his sides. He won’t change here. He won’t let himself get worked up enough, even though the moon’s only a couple days away. “You don’t have to fucking hurt people. You have enough goddamn control to…” He trailed off, rocking back and forth.

“Maybe you’re the exception.” Standing, you slowly crossed the room, stopping short of touching him, even though you wanted to. “Maybe not everyone has the self control you do, Frankie. Maybe you not knowing what you were capable of and being wary of it all helped and -”

“No.” It was close to a snarl, the sound low in his throat as he stiffened. Keep it together, Frankie. “I’m not fucking special. Even Ashley agreed with me about the control thing.” He lowered his head, taking a breath. “It’s easier when you’re born into it because you have help controlling the urges. But she said that her entire line - and everyone else they’ve ever come into contact with - have been able to control themselves even in the beginning.” 

You shivered, crossing your arms over your chest. But why do these other wolves just want to kill? What is it about them that make them … “The Chaos line just wants attention, then. If they’re all aware that they’re hurting people, it’s by design.” He agreed with you, a humorless laugh at the end of it. 

“I’ve worked so hard.” He turned to face you, a deep frown on his face. “So hard since it happened to control it. To control myself. I just want to live my goddamn life and not worry about someone knocking on my door one day and -”

“Someone like me, you mean.” Covering your mouth with one hand, you closed your eyes. “Because if I figured out that this isn’t gators or bobcats, then someone else will, too. I can’t be the only one looking.” 

He nodded, eyes locked with yours. “And not everyone is like you. Not everyone would listen. People shoot first and ask questions later.” He glanced up, taking a long breath. “Like me and Redfly did in Colombia. Like the five of us did on so many missions. Like -”

“Hey.” You reached out then, laying a hand against the center of his chest. “You’re getting off topic here, Morales.” His heartbeat thumped against  your palm, the man’s skin hot through the thin material of his t-shirt. “The next full moon, we’ll get him.  You won’t have to worry about this asshole putting you in danger anymore.” 

“You sound so sure.” He rolled his eyes, stepping away from you. “What if it doesn’t happen that way? What if he’s always a couple steps ahead of me? What if I can’t keep you or the guys from -”

“You know why I’m here, Frankie.” Chewing on your lower lip, you narrowed your eyes. “You know what I’m willing to give u -”

He cut you off when he raised a fist, slamming it into the tabletop with a crack of his knuckles. 

You hissed in pain at the sound - and the sight - but Frankie didn’t even flinch, the man’s fingers flexing as he replied. “That’s not going to fucking happen.” He turned to face you again and you watched in horror as his bloodied knuckles dripped onto the tile floor. How is he not … that has to hurt. He - “I already put you in danger by not telling you right away. It’s not happening again. Not now, not -”

“Frankie, you’re bleeding.” Forcing yourself into motion, you moved past him and into the kitchen, grabbing a towel and turning on the hot water. “Your hand has to be broken, something cracked when you hit the table, and -”

“It was the table.” He was right behind you, the man’s voice low again as he leaned in to speak into your ear. “It does hurt, but it’s fine. It’ll heal. Give it a couple hours and it’ll be like nothing happened. Shit heals faster the closer it gets to the moon.” The table? He cracked the table? His left hand snaked around your waist and the right one came into view as he extended his fingers over the sink. “Just some bloody knuckles. Nowhere near the worst it’s been for me.” 

You sighed as he spoke, a tiny smile creeping over your lips as he flattened his palm against your belly, pulling you back toward him. I know it isn’t. “At least let me clean them off for you. Can’t have you bleeding all over the place.” He nodded, chin resting on your shoulder - and you got to work. 

You were gentle with his hand, guiding it under the trickle of water and letting it rinse the blood from his skin. The cuts were shallow - more bruises than anything else, but his knuckles were swollen, and you felt him wince when you used your thumb to rub antibacterial soap over them, ensuring that the area was clean. Not that it matters, according to him, but … still. 

“You know I’d do whatever it took to keep you safe, right?” He kissed the side of your neck, lips lingering against your skin. “Not only do you know my secret, but you know about Colombia, too, so that makes you … one of us.” Your heart thumped at the label, even though it wasn’t new information. But…  

“Hmm. With that, you’d think that maybe me not being around anymore would be a good thing. I’m a liability, Frankie. Not just to you guys, but to whoever the other person is, because … because I know what to look for. I know what to …” You trailed off when he reached for the taps, turning the water off and then urging you to spin and face him. “What?” 

“It would not be a good thing.” He moved closer, pinning you between his body and the counter’s edge, the man’s gaze intense. “Not even close.” His nostrils flared as he contemplated his words - and yours - and when Frankie spoke again, you heard resolve in his voice, the man trailing one bruised knuckle over your cheek. “You might know what to look for and what to do when you find it, but I know what it feels like to be the thing you’re looking for. I know what happens when we’re not … us anymore. And I’m going to use that to hunt this motherfucker down.” 

His eyes flashed gold as he spoke, Frankie’s handsome features turning sharp for a moment before they softened. 

You still weren’t scared, but you did feel fear - not for you or for him, but for whoever was behind the attacks. Because he won’t give up. This isn’t just about keeping people safe, it’s about … him getting to live his life. It’s about getting to watch his daughter grow up and … “You are.” Nodding twice, you closed your eyes. “We are. And I’m going to help you as much as I can.” So that maybe I can finally live my life, too. 

You took his wrist between your fingers and twisted it, finally breaking eye contact when you pressed your lips to his knuckles. You kissed each one in turn, and when you were done, you looked back up, not knowing what to expect. 

But instead of uncertainty or unease, Frankie looked absolutely wrecked, the man’s lips parted and his brow furrowed, his eyes on your face. You didn’t know how he’d respond, but you didn’t expect him to nearly moan out your name, surging forward to kiss you without warning. 

He ripped his wrist from your hold and used that hand to grip the back of your neck - not tightly but securely, his other hand sliding beneath your shirt and up the center of your back, the heat of his palm trailing like fire over your skin. 

There was nothing hesitant about the kiss. Frankie didn’t hold back, and you would have been lying if you’d said that part of you wasn’t thrilled that you were able to get that kind of reaction out of him after only knowing him for a couple months. But who wouldn’t be? He’s… 

He tugged on your lip with his teeth and then released it, running his nose alongside yours before he kissed you again, your mouth open and waiting, the point of his tongue meeting the flat of yours, almost daring you to challenge him further. 

You did, one hand gripping his shirt and bunching the fabric of it against your palm as you moaned into his mouth, your other hand pushing on his hip and wordlessly urging him to back up so that you could follow. 

He was dangerous and you knew it. 

He’d been that way for years before Colombia, Frankie’s instincts and willingness to do what needed to be done allowing him and his friends to survive countless unthinkable situations. But he was also loyal to the people he cared about - and based on the things he’d said to you and the way he’d treated you since your first meeting, you’d worked yourself into that circle almost unwittingly. And that means everything. 

He pulled back to breathe, pressing his forehead to yours and stroking over the line of your jaw with his thumb. “Frankie, you -”

“If I don’t let you go right now, I don’t know that I’m going to be able to. And I can’t… I can’t promise I’ll be able to rein myself in today.” 

You made your choice  - if there even was one to be made -  in an instant, your grip on him tightening at the same time you inhaled sharply, the hand on his hip sliding back so that you could urge his lower body against yours. 

“I don’t want you to. Ever.”

—

[aropride]

i have 12 days til school starts up again. main goal in the meantime is to develop a new fetish. preferably a cool one

[mourninglamby]

sour bitter kind of sweet

[hersurvival]

Go find yourself a man

Who's strong and tall

And Christian..

[tarowrr]

not sure what to caption this one

august 17th, 2022

[vascarl]

Day 2: Massam

38-44 microns, 150-380mm staple length.

Very pleasant to spin.

[shes-some-other-where]

June of Doom Day 10, Day 12, Day 17

“Can you hear me?” | Fear | “You don’t want to do that.” | Struggle | Grief

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Contains: royalty whump, restraints, death mention, murder mention, fantasy drug/potion, threats

WC: 620

Mark my words

A door creaked open. Light flashed, illuminating his prison: a dark dungeon cell with a single door, thick wood with only a tiny, barred opening through which a guard might peer to inspect his prisoner and ensure he still drew breath. It swung wide, swaying on its rusted hinges. The seer flinched at the door’s ominous croak.

In stepped a man he’d never seen before.

“Seer-prince,” said the stranger. “Or, rather, former prince.”

The seer thrashed in his chains, choking on words he didn’t have the time or wherewithal to plan. Stifled words of rage and confusion—and fear.

“Your family’s line is ended, and you are a prisoner,” said the stranger. He folded his arms, watching the seer’s struggles coolly. “The former king and queen are dead. You serve a new queen, and a new crown prince.” He smiled. “Me.”

Dead. “No,” he tried to say. “No!”

“Yes. Killed, too, is your brother. And your court. Nothing remains.”

“My . . . brother . . . ?” Only seventeen. Brave and brash. Dead.

“Slain with my own blade. I slit his throat.”

The grey eyes glinted, as if he knew was the seer would ask next. As if he anticipated it.

“My . . . sister . . .” He coughed, forcing out the garbled syllables, as shock and panic burrowed into him even more.

Dead?

The usurper grinned. “Alive.” He chuckled. “And she will remain so, if you do as I say. So, listen well.”

Too much, too fast. His parents and brother, slaughtered. His sister, living—but where? Hurt? What had happened to her? Had she witnessed the murders? Had this killer really kept her alive? To what purpose? Was it too much to hope for? What if this so-called prince was lying?

And how was he to know, locked in a dungeon, with no memories to fall back on because he’d been too much of a coward to face his visions every night?

“I said, listen, seer.”

The voice was cold and cruel, sneering and harsh, but it was not wrathful. It did not shout. Its patience was wearing thin, but that patience endured. For now.

With no other option, the seer looked up. The usurper’s image swam and wobbled.

“I own you now,” said the usurper, “and your fascinating little magic trick.” He smiled. “Ah—yes—I know about your visions, and how you chose the path of weakness to avoid them. There will be no more of that. All you see? Mine to know.” He stepped forward and crouched, and though he lowered his voice, the words only seemed to grow louder. “You will spill every secret, and your precious sister lives another day.”

The revulsion, the thought of coping with the visions every night for the rest of his life until they finally destroyed him, had him shaking his head in horror.

“Oh,” said the usurper softly. “Mark my words. You don’t want to refuse me. I will not make this kind, merciful offer again. So. In case your soft, drug-addled brain didn’t comprehend the first time, I will repeat myself once. Do you hear me? Only once.”

The seer stilled, bile burning hot and rancid in his throat.

“You are mine to wield and to control. There will be no more suppressing of your visions. If you don’t learn to control this gift of yours, and if you refuse to share what you learn with me and the queen you now serve, I will kill your sister in front of you, and then it will be your turn, and your family’s bloodline will be ended once and for all.”

The tears in the seer’s eyes spilled over, soaking into the heavy muzzle that rendered him unable to acquiesce. The chains fell still and silent.

The usurper prince smiled again.

June of Doom Masterlist

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@juneofdoom

All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.

[wiiildflowerrr]

@Ashton5SOS: A smile like this that only exists when we are on the stage rockin with you guys. See ya soon on the road. Xx

12 August 2016