#in their training exercise more difficult than it needs to be

[tectosilicates]

Marco is a real MVP for not only tolerating but being besties with cadet-era Jean. Patience of a saint. How did you do it.

[flowercrowncrip]

Today (July 19th) is Changing Places awareness day!

[Image description: a photo of the changing places toilet with the features listed below /end ID]

What is a changing places toilet?

A changing places toilet is a toilet which can be used by disabled people like me who can’t use a standard accessible toilet. This may be because someone needs extra equipment, and/or room for carers to help them. The main features of the changing places toilet are:

Lots of room! Changing places toilet must be at least 12 square metres. This means that there is plenty of room for a wheelchair user to turn around as well as room for up to 2 carers.

A peninsular toilet! This is a toilet which has enough room on each side were wheelchair to be positioned for transferring. As with standard accessible toilet there are grab rails on each side.

Accessible washbasin! The washbasin must have room underneath for a wheelchair user. An adjustable height washbasin is preferred.

A ceiling hoist! This allows people who cannot transfer independently to be able to safely get out of their wheelchair. A person brings their own sling which is hooked onto the hoist allowing them to be lifted.

An adult size changing table! This allows people need help with undressing to use the toilet, or help changing incontinence pads to have their needs met safely and with dignity. Without a changing table, many people have to resort to lying on the toilet floor to change their pads which is unsafe, undignified and unhygienic.

Why raise awareness?

The lack of changing places toilet means it’s hard for disabled people like me to leave the house. It’s limits our ability to socialise, access work/education, exercise, travel, and even attend hospital appointments. (In the UK there are only 93 hospitals with a registered changing places toilet).

I have to plan my entire life around the few changing places toilet that exist, which massively shrinks my world. It’s incredibly difficult for me to travel (less than 2% of train stations in the UK have a changing places toilet), go days out, visit the hospital, and otherwise experience the world outside my house. Hopefully one day every event like Pride or music festivals will have a mobile changing places toilet, and there will be public changing places toilet with 24/7 access in every town, as well as changing places toilets in public buildings like leisure centres, libraries, museums, cinemas, tourist attractions and shopping centres.

More info including what you can do to help the UK campaigns for more changing places toilets can be found at changing-places.org

[sheryl-lee]

.

hey so i apparently have had a rare idiopathic degenerative joint disease that has been attacking my jaw structure/function since i was a kid. and the only permanent solution for it is upper jaw surgery and a total temporomandibular joint replacement :)))

[barcaatthemoon]

awkward || keira walsh x reader ||

Keira likes you, but doesn't really know what to do about it.

Keira watched from the sideline as you juggled the ball around. Grace and Ella were cheering you on, your former Manchester teammates eager to see you set a new personal record for yourself. The media cameras were also on you, and Keira was glad that she was far enough away to not get caught staring. At least that was what she had thought.

"Oh God, don't tell me that you're staring at (Y/n) again!" Georgia exclaimed as Leah laughed. Both women had been watching Keira stare at you, and they both took note of the blush on Keira's cheeks at being caught.

Truthfully, neither of them minded Keira's crush on you. Since the breakup with Lucy, both Georgia and Leah had been worried about Keira. There had been a few dates with different girls that Keira had mentioned in passing, but nothing that ever stuck. Leah was kind of glad that nobody really managed to hold Keira's interest for too long, not when you were also very single.

"You should talk to her mate," Leah suggested. Keira dismissed Leah's comment with a scoff. You and Keira had known each other for years now. Your homes had been within walking distance in Manchester, although, Keira had been with Lucy during that time.

"No way, Keira would never talk to (Y/n). She's way too awkward," Georgia pointed out. Leah laughed at that, unable to argue against the shorter woman. On paper, you and Keira couldn't have been much more different from one another. However, Leah knew that your differences would help to balance each other out.

"Not to mention that (Y/n) is very obviously with Grace. I mean, look at them," Keira said. She hoped that would be enough to get them off of her case, but instead, it caused both of her friends to start laughing. "What's so funny?"

"That would be like us dating, you dummy!" Leah exclaimed.

"Whatever, let's just drop this," Keira huffed. Georgia and Leah shared a look as they let Keira walk off ahead of them. There was still a bit left to do at practice, and Keira kept her distance from her friends. That wouldn't have been an issue if you didn't assume that Keira was just the odd man out and paired yourself up with her.

"So, um, Sarina said that everyone needs a partner for the next drill, and it looks like Georgia and Leah are already together. I don't know if you were planning on going to Lucy or not, but Grace hates doing this drill with me. Do you think that maybe we could work together?" Keira had no idea why you were so nervous to speak with her. She knew that she didn't have the friendliest of personalities, but you didn't act that way with anybody else. If Keira hadn't completely convinced herself that you liked Grace, she would have thought you liked her.

"That's fine. Trust me, there's nobody worse to do this with than Lucy. I was her training partner for years," Keira joked. You let out a small laugh, glad that Lucy and LJ had already paired up with each other. Almost all morning, several of your friends had been trying to get you to talk to Keira. Ella and Millie were on the verge of just making a literal sign for Keira to ask you out on a date. They were sick of watching you just stare at her longingly and knew that if she transferred to the WSL, it would only get worse.

The two of you didn't talk much, but Keira found herself utterly lost a couple of times. It wasn't her fault, not really. The sunlight just happened to hit you at the perfect angle several times during the exercise. Keira knew that she was on the verge of ruining her starting spot if she didn't clean her act up around you, but you made it so difficult for her to focus on anything.

"Nice passing," Beth teased as she nudged Keira. Keira was about to open up her mouth and say something when you stepped in between them. Beth was nice, and you knew that she didn't mean it as more than a little rib, but you still felt a little surge of protectiveness over Keira.

"She is one of the best passers on the team. Who knows how wide I'd be going on a daily basis if not for Keira showing me pointers." You put your arm around Keira's shoulders. All you were paying attention to was Keira, so you missed the way that Lucy and some of the others were quietly making fun of you. Lucy knew about Keira's feelings for you, and she knew that it would be a death sentence to openly pick on you in front of the midfielder for any reason. "Thanks Kei, I'm really lucky to get to play with you."

"Y-yeah, no problem." Keira tried to seem confident, but she faltered. Beth rolled her eyes and walked away as Keira muttered under her breath, "You're so cute."

"What was that? Sorry, the pollen is making my ears feel a bit plugged up," you said. Keira's face turned red immediately, and for a moment, she thought that she was in for it.

"I, uh, I said you look like a boot," Keira blurted out. Your face fell a bit as you sat with her words. It had to be an insult, but it wasn't a very good one. You had heard Keira effortlessly knock people down a few pegs, so you knew that couldn't have been what she really said.

"Um, okay then…" you trailed off awkwardly. You began to rescind your arm from around her shoulders, but Keira stopped you.

"Wait! That wasn't what I said. I said that you were cute because you're really cute, and I like you a lot. Maybe when there's a break in schedules, we can meet up somewhere and go out."

"Are you asking me out, Keira Walsh?" you asked. You couldn't believe it, not really. Keira had been one of your biggest crushes since you signed to Manchester City's youth team. Georgia had finally stopped being teased as the fangirl when the girls noticed your very obvious crush on the very taken Keira Walsh. Now, things were different, and it seemed that she was the awkward one between the two of you.

"I am? Yeah, I am asking you out. I like you a lot, and I'm willing to work through a lot of things to give this a shot. So, I really hope that you think about what I've asked you, and get back to me," Keira said. You bit your lip as you pulled her in close. Keira looked a bit surprised as you pressed a kiss to her cheek, but she didn't say anything about it.

"Grace is spending the night with Alessia, Ella, Mary, and Millie, so my room is open. I'm not saying that we, you know, do anything, but you should come over and watch movies with me. There's a horror marathon on tonight, and I just hate watching scary movies all by myself." The last bit had been a bit of a lie, but you wouldn't let such a good opportunity to have Keira over and cuddling with you go to waste.

"I'll be there right after dinner," Keira promised you. You beamed at that, and gave her one more kiss on the cheek before racing off to the showers.

[cllightning81]

Academic Change

Summary : Everything's changing and the only way you know how to deal with it is by crying. Ollie's there to help though

Pairing/s: Oliver Bearman x Reader

Word Count : 0.8k

Masterlist

Oliver Bearman Masterlist

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A/N : Oh, how I needed an Ollie last night when this exact situation hit me.

It had reached a new academic year, but this year was different. You've finished high school and are now on your way to university. Ollie was signing with Haas, which meant his life was about to get more difficult. However, the worst part about it all was your best friend was moving away to go to university. 

You’d heard the horror stories about best friends that move away and slowly just lose connection until it was like there was never a friendship there in the first place. With all the change that was happening over the next six months, you could feel the anxiety kicking in. 

Ollie was back home for the break between Monza and Baku and you couldn’t be more grateful because during that break you had to say bye to your best friend and it was worse than Ollie leaving almost every week. 

She understood you in a way that no one else could, there were millions of inside jokes that would be shared between you, inappropriate jokes that would have strangers or other people complaining about but that was your friendship. 

It wasn’t until you were lying in bed blocking out the neighbours party that it really hit you. Noah Kahan’s ‘You’re Gonna Go Far’ playing into your ears as the words suddenly hit more than they ever had before. 

Before you knew it, the tears had started falling down your face as the panic set in that actually she was packing up her car and being wherever she was. You’d tried not to cry for months about her leaving, but suddenly, everything was just far too much. 

Ollie who was lying next to you in bed also blocking out the neighbours party with his own earphones in except this time scrolling on tiktok glanced over at you instantly spotting the tear tracks that had been on your face as you swapped from your normal playlist to your sad playlist needing to just let all your feelings out. 

His arms wrapped around your body, pulling you closer to him as he ran a comforting hand over your back in an attempt to help calm you down however you were too deep into your crying session by now. 

Soon Ollie figured you’d been crying enough and took your phone swapping over to some ‘relaxing sounds’ that in reality just made you want to use the bathroom but you didn’t have the energy to fight him. 

His hand gently pulled your wrist closer to him as he messed about with your smartwatch to start the breathing exercises that were programmed in by whatever company you’d previously bought it from. As you followed the instructions from the watch, you could feel the anxiety of losing your best friend leaving your body and your heart rate dropping back down to normal. 

Ollie sighed, letting you remove your earphones and place your phone on the bedside table before pulling you back into his body 

“I know it’s hard, darling. Trust me, I know, except I was the one leaving everyone behind. I know it from both points of view, and you just need to remember that what you have won’t disappear overnight. You’ll meet new people on your course even if it’s a small course and you’ll never forget about your memories with her. I know your anxiety is through the roof right now, and you don’t deal well with change, but remember I’ll always be here. Even if I’m in Italy or Australia. She’ll always be there whether she’s ten minutes away by bus or half an hour by train” Ollie took a breath, pushing some hair out your face and wiping stray tears from your face 

“Change is hard, and it’ll always be hard for you because that’s just who you are, but I love you for it and remember you’re the first from your family ever to go to university. That’s an achievement. You’re also doing a medical degree technically. I love you” He smiled, and you nodded 

“I love you too. Thank you” Ollie nodded, pressing his lips against yours. 

Everything was changing, and as hard as that was to admit, unfortunately, change was always going to happen in life, and although your facetimes were starting to become irregular, they were still happening. 

No matter what happened in the next few months, at least you always had the memories that you’d created over the past three years at high school. Because you’d left all those friend groups that turned out not to be right, and now you had your best friend. 

It was going to work out, and Ollie knew that after a couple of weeks you’d understand that. 

“Come on time for some ice cream” Ollie hummed, getting out of bed and throwing you over his shoulder, causing you to giggle and cling on for dear life. 

Sitting you down on the counter in the kitchen, Ollie raided the freezer, handing you the carton of ice cream with a spoon as he told Alex to play songs from both your childhoods. After all, much like your best friend, he knew how to make you happy. 

And to quote Lauv “The story never ends”

Coming Soon

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[tacticaldiary]

Can you write something about Simon being a little to rough with reader and they end up having bad bruises so they hide it from Simon and when he finds out he goes a little crazy and won’t touch them until reader snaps and tells him they need his touch

Painless Bruises

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

It really wasn't a massive deal, but she knows Simon would withdraw if he saw the evidence he left behind on her.

Masterlist

It's almost as if the day had a personal grudge against her, bringing along the hottest day of the year the one time she has to wear something unsuitable for the weather.

She itches the skin of her neck that's not covered by her black turtleneck, the long sleeves of the shirt sticking uncomfortably to her skin as she runs laps around the training centre.

Bruises.

Hand shaped bruises circle her forearms, a deep set shade of purple, and a particularly nasty one lines her collarbone, just under the juncture of the slope of her shoulder.

Thankfully she can blame the heat that creeps up her face at the thought of how she got them on the intense cardio they were doing. They were set to be dropped off in Serbia for a mission in 6 days, so the 141 was busy preparing for clearing their physical evaluations before they were dispatched.

Skin against lips, and the rustling of sheets last night. Simon had just gotten back from a solo mission somewhere up north and they hadn't seen each other in over a fortnight. Needless to say, when they did get a moment alone in his room last night things had gotten a little more intense than usual.

Rough, calloused hands held her arms in place, heavy breaths and feelings that could not be put into words exchanged under the light of the moon. She hadn't minded his grip, it had just surprised her. Simon was not a gentle person by any means, rough around the edges and as standoffish as the definition could get, but he had never been harsh enough with her for the evidence to linger into the daylight.

When she'd woken up the next day, catching sight of her arms, guilt pooled in her gut. She didn't mind it, it's not like they hurt particularly bad, but she knew if Simon saw them he'd withdraw.

It was an instinctual feeling, but she knows she's right. Simon had...a difficult past, one he rarely shared with her but she'd heard enough to know that he'd never want to hurt the people he loved.

She was afraid that bruises inflicted by him, especially ones as ugly as these, would make him blank and pull away, or even worse: treat her like she's fragile.

She didn't want a gentle Simon, she wanted him in all his brash, rough glory.

"Come on Gaz, the lass is running circles around you!" Soap heckles as she passes him by. She can't help but stifle a snort when she hears Gaz yell back an insult, a good few paces behind her. Ghost was standing next to Soap, watching the pair finish their last lap. His eyes follow her, bore into her as she passes. Him staring quietly is nothing new, but she can feel the questions from his gaze from halfway across the room.

She'd slipped out of his room before he'd woken up, and had forgone meeting him in the mess hall for breakfast to figure out how exactly she was going to hide the marks from him.

Slowing down after her last lap, she plops down on the ground with a sigh, gulps down the water bottle Soap pushes in her hands, the cool water a nice reprieve from the sweltering heat and sweat. Going to tug her turtleneck away to let some air hit her throat, her fingers freeze on the fabric when she feels Ghost's gaze on her again. Slowly lowering her hand, she clears her throat and turns her attention to Soap and Gaz bickering.

"You've got a big mouth for someone who can't outrun me either, MacTavish." She snickers, making Gaz grin.

"We're both in second place, mate." The man laughs, clapping Soap on the shoulder before offering a hand to pull her up. She accepts gratefully, feeling her legs burn pleasantly from the exercise.

She doesn't anticipate Gaz grabbing her forearm to pull her up. He grips right over her bruises and tugs her to her feet. It's just her luck that she can't manage to swallow down the strangled, muffled sound of pain in the back of her throat.

"You alright there?" Gaz lets go of her, brows furrowing. Ghost seems to have moved closer, ever the silent person.

"Fine." She swallow, her arm stinging. "Just...got a stitch in my side." Waving off the grimace Soap gives her, she's about to move on, ask if any of them would want to hit the bar with her after this, when a gruff, low voice speaks up.

"Roll them up."

She blinks, her stomach twisting as she turns to look at her Lieutenant.

"I'm fine, Ghost-"

"I didn't ask." He cuts her off. "If you're injured, better to get it fixed than ignore it."

"Good thing I'm not injured then." She offers him a smile. The other two boys glance at each other.

"Sergeant." There's a sense of finality in his tone, from which she knows it's an order. Meeting his eyes, she silently pleads with him to change his mind, a staring contest with a brick wall. Resigning herself to her fate, she relents, taking a deep breath and gingerly rolling up her sleeves to her elbows.

The sharp hitch of Simon's breath is only apparent to her after months of leaning the tiny quirks of his body.

"Steamin' Jesus, how'd you mangle that up so bad?" Soap exclaims, grabbing her hand and turning it this way and that. Gaz whistled low, eyes narrowing.

"That's some nasty bruising " Gaz frowns. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine." She snatches back her arm, shoving her sleeves back down. "Not as bad as it looks, trust me." Avoiding Simon's gaze is harder than it's ever been, but she chances a split second peek at his expression.

His eyes are the only part of his face visible, but they've always been the most expressive part of him if one knows his quirks. Right now? Right now Simon has the same look he sported when that building came down on Soap after one of his explosions malfunctioned from being rigged incorrectly.

Upset and muted horror. She can tell his brows are knitted tight under his mask, his jaw clenched because he knows.

"Medbay, now." Is all Ghost says, a hand on her shoulder leading her away from the group. Her protests fall on deaf ears as they exit the room, the others not questioning their Lieutenant.

The walk down the hallway is suffocating, and Simon's grip immediately retracts once they're outside. He takes a left down the hall and she hesitantly follows.

The medbay is to the right.

The barracks are secluded this time of the day, everyone out and about, so it's the perfect place to have this discussion. Not that she wanted to have it in the first place...

"Want to explain why you didn't tell me?" Is the first thing he says. He sounds angry, and only the most seasoned of his partners would recognise the edge of concern in his voice. "You think hiding something like that was a good idea?"

"I wasn't hiding it, I just-"

"Bullshit. I hurt you." He states, a flash of pain quicker than she can catch in his eyes. "Why didn't you say?"

"Because it's fine, Simon!" She exclaims, grabbing his arms, hoping he understands. "You didn't hurt me, we just...got a little carried away. It's alright, they don't hurt bad."

"I was too rough with you." A slightly strained voice that tugs at her heart. "Fuck, I'm sorry." The apology spilled out of his mouth unprompted, and for a moment she's left shocked because he's the last person to apologise for something unless absolutely necessary.

Which means he really believes he did something terrible.

"I forgive you." She says immediately. "There, problem solved, right?"

"No, that's not how this shit works." Simon clutches onto the back of his neck, agitated at himself. "I didn't...fuck, I didn't mean to..." Something dawns on him and he meets her eyes with a newfound sense of dread. "Where else?"

Her pause is enough to give him his answer.

"Show me." He demands.

"Simon-"

"Take it off." He tugs at the bottom of her shirt. His fingers never brush against her skin.

Taking a deep breath and seeing no way out of this, she lets her shoulder sag and concedes, shrugging off the turtleneck and leaving her in a short sleeved undershirt. His eyes snap to the bruising on her collarbone, his jaw tightening.

"Don't apologise again." She says when he opens his mouth to talk. "I'm not fucking fragile, Simon. I can take a hit or two, this is nothing."

It's the wrong thing to say, the worst thing to say judging by the way Simon instantly recoils, taking a step back at her words.

"I'd never hurt you on purpose. Never." He says quietly.

Ghost is a silent person. His footsteps never detected, melting in the shadows and slitting throats before anyone realises he's even there.

But he's not quiet. Never quiet. Never with her, at least.

"I know." She soothes, moving to close the distance but pausing when he shakes his head. "I worded that badly..."

"I wouldn't...I'm not-"

"You're nothing like your father." She states, pulling the words out to lay out for the both of them. "I trust you, Simon. I trust you every day with my life on the field, and my heart in our bedroom." She gestures to her bruises. "I don't blame you for any of this. The both of us were too occupied to pay attention to be considerate and hell, I liked it."

At his skeptical look, she continues on. "If it makes you feel better, the day you lay a hand on me is the day I beat your ass into the ground."

"I'd let you." He says gruffly, straightening up slowly.

Gently, he takes her hand, turning it over to bare her forearms. Gently brushing a thumb over the purple and blue, his eyes flicker to her face to scan for any discomfort. When he finds none, he directs his gaze back to the bruising, his mind somewhere else.

She lets him have a few moments of silence, knowing full well that this wouldn't be the end of this.

"I'm sorry." He says again, gently brushing his fingers over her collarbone. "Won't happen again, love."

                                · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  

Their quick, secret touches throughout the day had always sparked her to life.

Whether that be a gentle brush of their arms while they walked down the hall, or a quick squeeze of a shoulder after a harsh day of training. Inconspicuous touches that carried more meaning to them that met the eye.

She can count on one hand how many times Simon has touched her over the past three days, even if four of her fingers were blown off.

It's frustrating. Always busy, never standing within the length to reach out and touch, always out of his room when she'd knocked and peered in at night. He'd redirect her whenever she tried to initiate anything, even a friendly hug. Once he'd legitimately stepped away from her, and she's not going to lie, but it stung a little.

Needless to say, she was itching to corner him.

As she waits outside the meeting room where he currently is with Price, she thinks about how she knew this would happen. She knew he'd withdraw and refuse to be near enough to touch her properly, and it's driving her up the wall because godammit she misses him.

He knows he's fucked the second he walks out, pinned with a glare that promises consequences if he doesn't follow her. With a quiet sigh, he trails behind her until they're in her room, the door clicking shut behind them.

"Did you need something, love?"

"Funny you should ask." She deadpans. "You drive me insane sometimes, you know that Simon Riley?"

It's a little funny how he straightens up with the use of his full name, more at attention. She'd have poked fun at him in she hadn't been as angry.

"Do you think I'm fragile, Simon?" She snaps. "That I'll break if you breathe on me? You've been practically ignoring me for three days, pulling away. Walking away." When she strides closer to him, he doesn't move back. "And I swear to all that is holy, if you don't stop with this bullshit, I'm going to well and truly snap."

A pause.

"Well, someone sounds desperate." The poor attempt at deflection makes her even angrier. She grabs his hands, guides them to her shoulders and squeezes hard. He lets her, watching quietly.

Quiet. God, she hates it when he's quiet.

"Touch me. Just...you won't hurt me, Simon." She sighs at the feeling of his hands on her, burning even through her shirt. "You know you won't, you're just afraid."

"Not afraid." He grunts, curling his fingers around her shoulder, something she considers a small win. She can feel his hands twitch with the desire to abandon his self control and pull her closer. It almost makes her smile to think the distance is impacting him just as much.

"Then what?"

"Just...wary."

"Well stop it, then." She huffs. "I need you, Simon. I can't go about my day knowing that my damn boyfriend won't touch me because he think I'm fine china."

"You're one of the best soldiers." He rolls his eyes. "You and I both know you're anything but breakable."

"Then quit acting like a selfless asshole and-" She cuts herself off with a gasp when his hands slide to her waist, pulling her into his body. Warm and all encompassing, her blood sings at the contact after so long.

"This is what you wanted?" He hums, finally conceding. She shivers, feeling his chest rumble under her cheek.

"Yes." She sighs. "See, wasn't so hard, was it?"

He doesn't answer for a moment, the both of them taking a second to settle back down into their skins, feeling the familiar press of dips and curves pressed against each other. She rests her cheek against his chest, hands coming up to grab onto his back.

"I'm alright, Simon." She whispers. "We're both okay."

His grip tightening around her like it usually does is the only answer she needs, the press of his lips onto her head through his mask making her sigh contentedly.

This.

This was more than okay.

Requests Are Open!

(03/07/2023)

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Eleven

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: None. Gwyn and Y/n bond over books. Azriel and Y/n get even closer — this had me kicking my feet and screaming internally and externally

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Rhysand’s training sessions always started with him sliding over ten objects: a book, a piece of jewelry, an article of clothing — anything he could find with meaning for you to discern.

“This one is Mor’s.” You held the red satin box in your hands. Two months ago you would have only been able to tell him who it belonged to. Maybe nothing at all. The meaning held by the object was weak. The jewelry too new. Unworn. But now you could harness your power with more precision, like you’d finally been handed an image of the puzzle you were trying to complete so you knew what to look for. “You bought it two months ago at Cizero’s as a Winter Solstice gift.” 

“And what is it exactly?” 

The box was still closed. 

You pushed your power forward, imagining light slipping in through the seam of the box. An image flashed in your mind. It was blurry, but held onto its form long enough for you to make it out. 

“Drop earrings. Rubies,” you said with a straight back before dropping the box into Rhysand’s open palm.

He smirked and clicked it open. Gold banded rubies hung from the backing like bloody tears, each drop separated by a diamond that flashed brighter than the stars in the ever darkening sky. 

You dared to smile, staring at the jewelry with a level of satisfaction you hadn’t felt since being handed top marks as an apprentice. 

“Very nicely done.” 

The box disappeared back into his desk beside a glimmering gemstone the size of your fist wrapped in tissue paper. 

It’s probably for Amren. You thought to yourself. Azriel told you she loved shiny things and hoarded her treasures like a crow. Hence why she’d yet to return from Summer with Varian. 

You moved on to the next portion of your exercises. With a feather light touch, Rhysand laid his hands on your palms, your wrists, your forearm, your shoulders. He moved up and down your body, waiting a minute for you to control yourself before touching the next flash of exposed skin. It was still difficult to completely contain your power, but you were getting better at moving it around your body. When he reached for your hands, you slid the magic up to your chest. When he reached for your knees, it moved down to your ankles. It was a delicate dance, like the curling of ocean water away from the shore or the splitting of a river around a stone. 

You did what you could to experience the touches with a clinical detachment and Rhysand did as well. He was careful. He stopped the moment you let out a gasp of surprise at the feeling of warm skin pressed against your own and there wasn’t an ounce of judgement written in his beautiful features when you trembled beneath his touch. 

“Take your time,” he said encouragingly.

For him, touch was a necessary part of life. He always had an arm slung over Cassian’s shoulders or wrapped around Feyre’s waist. He fell asleep with his mate pressed against him and he walked around the River House with Nyx on his shoulders and Velaria curled up in his arms. But there were also mornings when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, the feeling of Amarantha’s red-tipped nails dragging down his chest like she wanted to take more from him than just his body. Those were the days Feyre knew to give him his space. 

“Take all the time that you need.”

Rhys stepped away. You steadied your breath and took time to record your progress in the journal you kept close by. Although there was no true way to quantify your learning, your Day Court training never left you and you wrote down what little could be put into words — for posterity’s sake. Then maybe the next Clairvoyant the Mother willed into existence would have an easier time navigating this than you. 

Gwyn found you squirreled away in your usual reading room, back bowed over a flurry of books and note pages like a reed in the wind. You reached for the mug on the desk only to find it disappointingly empty. Unlike the River House, the Library did not fuel your caffeine addiction with reckless abandon. 

She floated over, abandoning the cart of books she’d been tasked with returning that night. Her legs were throbbing from the split squats Cassian had coached her through that evening, and she was desperate for a break. 

“Some light reading, I see?” she teased, sinking into the seat across from you. 

You looked up, eyes red-rimmed and swollen. It took a few moments for Gwyn’s shape to come into focus. 

“What?” The word slurred coming out of your mouth.

She tapped the ever growing pile of papers beside you. Your manuscript: 120 hand-written pages and counting. When the book became too frustrating to handle, you abandoned it in exchange for another productive task. Even if the 120 pages you’d reproduced were utter garbage.

You groaned, forehead slamming against the wood with a clatter. Thoughts of white blood cells, lymphatic vessels, and innate and acquired immunity knotted in your brain like the world’s worst game of cat’s cradle.

Gwyn would have found it amusing if she didn’t know just how much time you spent within the mountain. You’d effectively been adopted by the priestesses. Lurking here and there like a cat coming in from the cold. And you were just as disapproving as a stray. Gwyn would often catch you among the stacks, mumbling about the disorganization and how you couldn’t work in such paltry conditions. 

“Cauldron boil me, I’m sorry for asking.” Gwyn raised her hands in surrender. 

You let out a great, heaving sigh. “It’s not you.” 

“Oh I know it’s not me. You look like you’ve been dragged through a gutter.” 

You blinked wearily at the lovely priestess.

“A very clean, well-managed gutter.” She grinned. Her skin shone, reflecting the pale, fuzzy moonlight that filtered through the window above and doused the library in a silver sheen. 

“Thank you, Gwyn.” 

“Anytime.” She drummed her nails against the table, the beat of it almost sending you to sleep. “How long have you been here today?” she asked with concern.

“I don’t know. What time is it?”

“After midnight.” 

“Oh.” 

“How long?” Gwyn repeated and you dragged a hand down your face. 

“Seven hours? Give or take?” Your stomach growled. 

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” 

Gwyn grabbed you by the end of your robes, tugging you up several floors and down an unfamiliar hallway until you stopped in front of a teal-blue tapestry. Selkies, sirens, and water nymphs dove in and out of rippling waters highlighted by iridescent beads. She flung it to the side and pressed her hand against the bare stone. The slab sank into the wall and then slid open to reveal a cream-colored room adorned with bundles of babies' breath. 

“Sit,” she commanded, pointing to the neatly made bed. You swayed dangerously on your feet. 

“I’m really fine. I didn’t mean to bother you.” 

“Sit. Down.” She cut you with a lethal gaze Nesta would be proud of. 

You snapped your mouth shut, shuffled across the carpeted floor, and sank into the queen-sized bed. You played with the ties of your robe wrapping them around your finger, then unwrapping them, then wrapping them again.

King Tiberion, third of the Nachmanian line, born Aschieron Cambria Nostrus Tiberion Dalgna to Effel Taul and foreign-born…

Found dead at a young three-hundred-and-ninety-two years of age at the hands of her brother. Spell cleaver or not, Ingrid…

Something like a lock and a key. Magic that’s perfectly complementary might be afforded the unique ability to seal… and break… gods I’m tired… 

There have only been seven recorded Shadowsingers in history: Lovania Vallant born 895 in the age of Alders (see ref. 18992HBG Carstairs), Gherald Dashiv born 1459 in the age of — 

Gwyn snapped her fingers in front of you, pulling your mind out of the hurricane of thoughts. You were a strange creature. You spoke little, moved about the Library as quiet as a mouse, and you had an interesting habit of running your fingers along every book on the shelf. Back and forth, back and forth you’d run along before jerking to a stop like one of the books had caught you at the end of a fishing lure. 

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” you repeated. 

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“Some would say that’s a good thing. It would make me incredibly trustworthy, at least when it comes to responding to things. I’d be terrible at keeping secrets, unless I was very careful about how I went about things. You know how it is. With the things.” 

Gwyn huffed with silent laughter and opened one of the cabinets in her small, makeshift kitchen. “Eat.” She commanded again and you were too slow to catch the sleeve of biscuits she tossed in your direction. It bounced off your forehead and landed in your lap. “I’ll be right back with something more substantial.” 

The door shut with a puff of air and you were left to chew on the chocolate and orange biscuits in silence. 

Gwyn’s room faced the city and you saw the lamplights burning through the windows that had been cut into the mountain rock, mimicking the stars that twinkled overhead like salt poured onto black glass. 

Cream satin sheets caught the moonlight until it glowed and you had the sudden urge to tip back and fall into oblivion. You could work for a long while, so long as you didn’t sit still long enough for the exhaustion to catch up to you — which you were doing now. 

You shoved another biscuit in your mouth, now almost halfway through the sleeve. It helped settle the hollowness in your stomach so you could pick yourself up and move over to the bookshelf. 

Bodice ripper, bodice ripper, murder mystery, bodice ripper, romantic comedy, found family adventure, spy thriller, bod—

Your face went red. Damn.

The priestess chose that moment to return to her room carrying a tray laden with bread, orange slices, and a thick mushroom stew leftover from dinner. She froze, pale cheeks turning a dusty rose as you silently pushed the book back onto the shelf. 

“Dragon-born? Really?” You shoved a burning spoonful of stew in your mouth and drowned the stale crust of bread, waiting for it to get sufficiently soggy enough you could chew it.

Gwyn groaned and buried her face in her pillows. “It was a phase.”

“Must have been a very long phase. You have the whole series and I know it took her thirty years to write them all.” 

Her head shot up. “How do you know?” 

“I read the first book.”

You sat up straighter, back pressed up against the closet that housed her daily robes, ceremonial garb, training gear, and Valkyrie armour. 

“So how can you judge me?!” 

“It makes no anatomical sense, Gwyn!” You threw your hands up in the air. “She’s four feet shorter than him. He’d sooner tear her in half before giving her any pleasure, and I’m not talking about his claws.”

The priestess scoffed. “Have some imagination, Y/n.” 

You huffed and pulled out a notebook from your ample pockets. You both spent the next thirty minutes going through hastily drawn sketches that would have disappointed Feyre to no end testing out your imaginative capabilities. Gwyn couldn’t stop smiling at you as you moved your hands through the air with animated fervor. Half of what you said didn’t make sense, but she would blame it on your sleep deprivation. 

You had Gwyn in stitches. The female hung off the bed, red-brown hair brushing the ground as she gasped for breath. You looked like you were sitting on the ceiling, black robes pooled around your knees like shadows. 

That sobered Gwyn up a bit. It was a real shame she liked you as much as she did. It made it harder for her to stay mad at Azriel.

And as if you read her mind, you asked, “Why don’t you come around to the River House?”

“What?” She wasn’t laughing anymore. 

“Why don’t you come to the River House?” You asked again. “You’re close friends with Nesta. You’re part of the Inner Circle. You have a guest room there, but I haven’t seen you at the house.” 

“Do you even spend enough time at the River House to know?”

“Yes.” 

Gwyn sighed and straightened up, folding her legs neatly beneath her on the bed. “Some… Some things happened a couple years ago. I won’t bore you with the details and I don’t know if I even have the right to tell you everything, but it’s colored the way the Inner Circle works now.”

“The details are the most important part,” you murmured, “I wish I had more details. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel like such a stranger in that house.”

“You’re not a stranger,” Gwyn reassured you. “Is that why you spend so much time here?” she asked with genuine curiosity. 

“Yes and no. It feels closer to home here. Even if your lack of organization has made my job ten times more difficult. I don’t see why you haven’t adopted any kind of classification system. It’s a small library. It would be very easy to implement.” You sighed and rubbed your eyes. Gods, you were tired. The feeling came and went in waves. “I shouldn’t complain though, everyone has been incredibly kind and welcoming. Especially Azriel.” 

You wrapped your arms around yourself, fingers fluttering against your shoulders. You tucked your chin into your elbows and tried not to think about that glorious night of sleep with only Azriel and his shadows. Waking up with his chest rising and falling on the floor beside you.

You were falling for him and you knew it. Gods did you know it. Or maybe you could convince yourself you weren’t falling yet, but it was a steady march to the cliff’s edge and you weren’t stopping anytime soon.

Gwyn felt her heart stutter. “Oh? He’s usually so… quiet and… reserved.”

You thought about it for a long while. 

“I don’t think he’s nearly as quiet as everyone believes him to be,” you said thoughtfully, “I think he just speaks in his own way.” 

 You were right about Godswood and The Gallows. 

The letter arrived on your desk early in the morning. 

The Bookkeeper, Taunum Hyst, was found trying to burn books in the western greenwoods along with some texts from Argot’s. He fought back against the guards sent to retrieve him, but he didn’t know what he was doing. Even now he’s confused and adamant that the last three weeks have been a blur. There’s a daemati at work here. Someone other than Henna. Rhysand knows, if he hasn’t already told you.

I’ve sent a translated folktale in old Bauldish and Common, and another in Demnyon along with the others you asked for. They might be worth looking into to help with the book. I hope you’re enjoying your stay at the Night Court. Happy hunting and stay safe. 

~ Helion 

You were right. 

You dropped the letter, hands coming up to your mouth as you took in a deep, shaky breath. You knew Taunum Hyst. You could picture his salt-grey braids and coal-black skin. He’d helped perform the funeral rites for your mother. Hell he’d managed to make you laugh that terrible day. 

 Your stomach turned. If there truly was another daemati left in the Day Court that could help explain the killings. Either the Librarians could have died trying to keep the knowledge in their minds safe, or the daemati had made them kill themselves before moving onto their next victim. You didn’t know which was more tragic. 

The clock rang eleven bells and you hastily folded up the paper, dropping it into the box along with the rest of your father’s letters.  

“I think this might be the first time you’ve ever been late,” Rhysand said with an amused smirk. He leaned against the doorway to his office, ankles crossed over one another. Did that male ever stand normally? 

“It is the first time.”

“Of course you would know that.” 

You smirked, pushing open the door to find—

“Azriel?” 

The Shadowsinger stood with his hands neatly folded behind his back. “Y/n?”

“Cassian!” The Lord of Bloodshed leapt in front of his brother, arms spread wide. “I’m also here. Nesta couldn’t make it with Valkyrie training.” 

Feyre rolled her eyes with affection. She reached for Rhysand’s hand without thinking and he accepted with barely a glance. They were two magnets, always pulled towards one another in space.

“What’s going on?” You glanced back and forth between them all. It had always been just you and Rhysand during these lessons. 

“I thought it would be good to start practicing with other people when it comes to physical touch,” Rhysand explained. Azriel’s nostrils flared. “You’re getting comfortable with me, which I’m happy about. But I want you to get comfortable with everyone else too.” 

You told me you wanted another debrief about the Mortal Lands. Azriel was loath to admit that just the thought of touching your hand was making his heart race like a schoolboy. 

And I do. Rhysand said rather smugly, as if he already knew Azriel was freaking out inside. But I also know you wouldn’t have agreed to this if I asked you ahead of time. It’s amusing to see you like this, brother. Have you forgotten how to touch a female? His violet eyes glittered with mischief.

Azriel swallowed, eyes trained on you as you mulled over Rhysand’s comment and nodded. You wanted to be comfortable too. Comfortable in your body. Comfortable with other people touching you.   

You thought of what it might feel like to have Azriel’s hand tucked beneath your chin, not just his shadows, and shivered. 

Azriel nearly choked when you started undoing the ties of your robes. The gold embroidered fabric slipped off your shoulders in a soft hush that had Azriel going rigid. You wore traditional Night Court fashion beneath your Librarian robes — a tight black shirt revealed the gentle curves of your arms, the cut of your collarbones against your chest, the thin band of flesh around your stomach; a breezy skirt with slits cut into the sides that revealed flashes of your thighs with every movement you made. 

Feyre, Rhysand, and Cassian all shared looks, nearly bursting out laughing at the way Azriel’s shadows were in flight around him. A swarm of bees buzzing and murmuring about how beautiful you looked. 

Azriel had seen many fae in his time in various states of undress. He’d seen males and females in the Court of Nightmares parade about in scraps of silk and lace. He’d taken countless lovers to bed. Bodies were something he knew well. Something he knew intimately. But he had never felt so flustered as he did looking at you like this. He thought his heart might just burst in his chest.

Cassian elbowed Azriel in the ribs when you weren’t looking and one of Azriel’s shadows looped around his ponytail and pulled. 

“Ow.” Cassian rubbed the back of his head with a grin. “Rude.”

You felt rather ridiculous standing in the center of the room with your arms and legs stretched out to the side. 

“Right arm,” Rhysand called out. 

Cassian bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet, fists held loose by his sides with the lightness of a male a quarter of his size.

You squinted. Is he… is he about to punch me? 

Cassian read the alarm on your face and grinned, hitting you with a tap gentler than rainfall. 

You snorted, but felt nothing. Perfect.

You had to be grateful for Cassian’s light-heartedness. He had the worry melting off your shoulders. With every limb that Rhys called out, Cassian would do a little dance before punching you or kicking you. At one point he even faked a blow to your face, spinning up to you before leaping into the air and shooting out his right leg. You didn’t flinch as his boot swung an inch away from your face. You could smell the rubber soles of his boots. 

“You missed,” you teased. 

Cassian pouted, turning around to walk back to the wall now that he was finished with his piece. Azriel looked ready to tear his head off his body. 

You’re lucky you missed. Azriel’s eyes screamed across the room. You’d be a dead man if you hurt her.

Cassian winked and blew him a kiss.

Feyre was next. You practiced brushing against her like you would do in a crowded street complete with the obligatory fumbling of apologies. 

“Oh good heavens.” Feyre fanned her face like the old, upper-class women in her village used to do and laid on that sickly sweet accent they all had. “I’m so dreadfully sorry.” — They never were. 

She shook your hand and touched your shoulders and looped her arm around your waist. That was the part that had you worried. You slid your power away from every inch of your skin, wrapped it up like a secret, and held it deepin your chest. 

“Good.” Rhysand smiled and Cassian punched the air. 

You breathed deeply and gave a small bow like you’d just finished a performance. But there was still one person you were meant to touch today, and they made you the most nervous of all.

Azriel stepped forward, a picture of calm. Inside, he was raging like a storm. He kept his hands firmly grasped behind his back, wings pressed so tightly he felt his shoulders start to ache. 

You took a step forward as well, tilting your head back to look at him. You felt the grip on your power falter when he held out his hand palm up like he was asking you for a dance. Months ago at the Summer Solstice ball you’d been approached by a number of males hoping for a song with their hands at your waist and at your shoulder. The prospect of that kind of touch had terrified you then, and it still terrified you now but for different reasons. Because this time, you wanted it. 

You wanted him.

You gently slid your hand into his, feeling the scars roll beneath your soft skin like the mountains that surrounded Velaris. Your breath caught in your throat, but before Azriel could rip his hand away you held on and squeezed reassuringly. 

You’d read hundreds, if not thousands, of romance novels in your time. You’d consumed them with a ravenous hunger, surviving on them when real touch felt like a hopeless dream and the loneliness became too much to bear. And in nearly every single one of them, the first touch between lovers was described as an explosion of color. A dangerous shaking of the world down to its foundations. A cataclysmic event. 

But you were surprised to find that they were wrong. They were all wrong. Azriel wasn’t destroying anything. He was mending. 

It felt like a re-centering. The shifting of a leaning tower so it stood upright again. 

A blissful silence. 

Azriel cradled your hand in his, thumbs smoothing over your knuckles. He couldn’t help what he did next, couldn’t have stopped himself even if Helion stood at his back with murder in his eyes. 

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your hand with such reverence, such tenderness, that you swore your heart was glowing in your chest.

“Why don’t you try a hug, Y/n?” Rhysand suggested when Azriel had straightened. “If you want.” 

You looked down at your feet where shadows swarmed, and then up at Azriel.

“What do you say, Y/n?” Azriel murmured softly. His words were for you and you only. “Where would you have me touch you?” His hazel eyes caught the light before scattering into a thousand brilliant colors. 

Wordlessly you ran your fingers down his arms, tracing the shape of the muscle beneath the leather. You held his hands and gently led them up to your waist, gasping when he made contact. His warm fingers brushed the exposed skin of your waist before sliding around to your back. 

You balanced on the tips of your toes, looping your arms around his neck before resting your face in the hollow between his neck and shoulder. He smelled like leather and the mountains. Wind and rain and nightfall coalescing into something so uniquely him you could pick him out in a room of thousands with your eyes closed.

It started out as a loose, misshapen thing, your hands and his arms searching for the right grip to hold your bodies together. But once you found it, you were lost.

Azriel wrapped his arms around your back and waist, hands splayed out like he was absorbing you into him. And you were no better. You buried your face in his neck, lips pressed up against the curve of his throat so you could feel the rhythmic rush of blood through his veins. 

He refused to be the first to let go. The roof could cave in. The floor could drop out from beneath your feet. He would not let you go. 

Your tears started out slow, coupled by ragged, shallow breaths. 

“I’ve got you, Y/n,” Azriel whispered. “I’ve got you.”

How long had it been since you’d been held like this? A hundred years? Two hundred? You thought you’d learned to live without it, but now that it was yours you didn’t think you’d ever, ever be able to give it up. You were at the cliff’s edge now and without an ounce of hesitation you flung yourself over and into the abyss.

With Azriel, controlling your powers didn’t seem like such a difficult thing. Later that evening when you lay in bed staring up at the ceiling, you realized you hadn’t been thinking of control at all.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

Y'all... THEY FINALLY TOUCHED EACH OTHER! And not only that, BUT HE KISSED HER HAND!!! And! They fucking HUGGED!!!!

[beemochi-art]

PAX AND ARIEL! Simpler times, Happier times. Back when everything thing made sense and nothing mattered but each other.

Orion comes from a higher background. Thanks to alpha trion, Orion was able to become an archivist and get proper medical treatment for his condition, he loves learning all he can about everything but history is what he likes most.

While training for his position as an archivist apprentice. He noticed a cleaner in the halls. She was out of place for the job she was taking on. A pretty femma hauling big ass loads of trash out of the building and then coming back for more, getting her beautiful plating dirty and not giving a shit about it. She was super strong too. He was enamored. Orion was also curious how she has such a difficult and dirty job when she could easily be doing something else, She was beautiful. Plenty of companies were looking for secretaries. When she had a break He gained the confidence to talk to her.

On Ariel’s side he walked up and she was instantly attracted. They got to talking and she simply answered Orion’s question with “I have my reasons.” She brushed over the subject and asked him out on a date. Orion was dumbfounded but ultimately ecstatic.

Things moved pretty fast. (They Rizzed each other) They were both incredibly comfortable in each other’s presence and pretty much spent most of their free time hanging out, cuddling, flirting, doing things in places they shouldn’t. Orion tried to hide his condition from her the best he could in the beginning but ultimately just caused more harm to himself. He thought she would leave if she found out because it’s a rare condition but a debilitating one. They exact opposite happened Ariel would educate herself about his condition to try and help him best she could, caring around extra inhalers and doing venting exercises. Orion’s condition would never go away but her being there and making sure he was taking care of himself made him need his inhaler less than he usual did.

Ariel is a lower class mecha. Most of her past and information is either unknown or she’s unwilling to share. Orion never pushed her. She’s a bit of a troublemaker and seems to go wherever she wants too (rule breaking is new to Orion). Ariel’s job is shitty, the mechs she works with are bottom of the barrel scum and don’t like Orion. But she refuses to quit for whatever reasons. But it has short hours so she has more time to hang around Orion. She sometimes is self deprecating and tells Orion he could do better, and that she would only cause problems for him. He doesn’t care tho and would do anything to convince her he’s not going anywhere.

After dating for like a year or two, they agreed when Ariel had all her ducks in a row, they would conjunx. Orion wouldn’t mind conjunxing her that day but it was her decision.

That however that didn’t work out.

[chowadoe]

so more on that role reversal au...

Shadow (created as a Weapon Against Humanity) who was eventually raised, and exploited, by G.U.N to become Humanity's Ultimate weapon and Sonic, found by Robotnik

some more expanded thoughts below ^_^

SHADOW - G.U.N AGENT

Shadow was initially created with the intention of being a Weapon Against Humanity. after a life-altering incident, G.U.N. takes Shadow into their custody, raising him to become one of their top agents, exploiting him.

he's constantly under government surveillance... inhibitor rings (developed by G.U.N.) are clamped onto him like a shock collar so he is unable to tap into his full power. (Shadow has neither tested nor does he know the extent of his strength.. he has never tried removing them. G.U.N. is the only one who can remove them.)

the hypocritical method in wanting their weapon (cough trained dog) to exercise and develop restraint on his own terms, and yet forcefully acclimating him.

Shadow’s aware of his past. Definitely struggles with Existential dread about why he’s on Earth and what he was made for. he wants to (and feels like he should) do good, but if he was initially made with destructive intent… is he compensating this way? is this what he really wants? no.. he shouldn't think like that.. Maria would want him to be good..

If not to make the world the better a place, if they still treat his kind as inferior and sometimes, even a threat to the whole human race, does humanity and this planet still deserve its rite for redemption? What is humanity? Is that something he’s capable of, as a weapon of mass destruction?

what is he trying to prove here? His docility? His ability to be obedient and be, by human standards, good? what does that mean in a world that may never accept them, and much less him- a synthetic and all-unnatural organism forged from humanity’s worst and an alien race only capable of Evil and wrongdoing. a being so perfectly suited for any and all forms of persecution. Humankind’s scapegoat. He thinks about Maria.

Maria remains a guiding light. Back then, she would sneak Shadow out to gaze upon the Earth, her former home. She misses it, the lush greenery, the sun, the people. she hopes that Shadow will get to experience what it’s like.

au shadow is emo edgy in a sad wet adult 40yo cat leon kennedy kind of way. au sonic is emo edgy like a 14yo that found out you could buy a tattoo gun on amazon without a license. I know nothing about resident evil

when he's not on a mission, he's usually in his "room" (extremely generous word for containment chamber/training facility.) he's like a hamster in a cage with toys to play with . (treadmills. race tracks. dummy robots. Ak-47s.) He's allowed to freely roam HQ from hours 6am-10pm, and if not, he is usually escorted by a guard, unless its Rouge sneaking him out. But beyond that, it's not like the ultimate lifeform needs that much sleep, and it'd be bad to have their ultimate weapon roaming the halls without supervision. but let's say there's the occasional nocturnal scavenger providing him a bit of nightly mischief that even the most complicated most difficult to navigate ventilation system cannot keep a natural-born burrower out..... (haha)

SONIC - ACCOMPLICE

Robotnik’s “accomplice” (adoptive son?)

Sonic goes along with Robotnik’s schemes but has his own ulterior motives .. after all, working under someone is still infringing on his sense of freedom, independence, and pride.

He only rlly helps out Robotnik out if it helps him… robotnik makes some new tech that tickles his , esp if smth that happens to enhance his existing abilities. sure he’s more than capable of doing things on his own but what’s better than to play with his new toys with his already existing toys (GUN. shadow.)

and if he manages to break them in a day then he’s found an issue that robotnik needs to troubleshoot immediately. eggman should really be Thanking him!

his only known goal atm is to find things that stave off his boredom. from what Shadow's gathered at least. but maybe there's more...

has a very bad No Good Fixation on shadow's inhibitor rings for whatever reason. wonder that could mean.

Still fucking around with roles and nothing's rlly set in stone. Im just kind of giggling kicking rocks and throwing pebbles in the water to see what lands ^q^

Rouge is still there! A contractor for G.U.N. A Recovering/reformed Jewel thief who joins the task force (maybe?) 

the gang is also there! still brainstorming roles though. emrmmm

[fen-luciel]

Jealousy part 1

Part 2 here

Warnings: age gap/toxic behavior

Vernestra-Padawan reader/jedi Qimir

I'll update the tags as the story progresses, there should only be two more parts.

I'm not sure how far I'll go with certain behaviors, so leave a comment and let me know what you think <3

(This first part is to provide context, the other two will set the story in motion)

Becoming a Padawan was a lifelong dream. Of course, I was young, so my view of the world and what I would experience in the coming years was very limited. The idea of being taken under the wing of a more experienced Jedi master, learning many more techniques, the missions, the travels, all the people and aliens I could meet... I was bursting with happiness.

Not that the exercises at the temple weren't stimulating, I was glad to have made friends, to have developed a routine with them, but I was ready for something new.

So, when I was finally introduced to my future master, I was bursting with joy. I recognized her immediately, it was hard not to. Vernestra was an important member of the Order, involved with the Senate, and was known for her numerous successes. It was an honor for me to receive that position by her side.

Over the years, I had been recognized as an excellent future Padawan, with the ability to learn quickly, a strong sense of observation, and a positive and kind character that always accompanied me. I was often praised for the way I presented myself to others. In short, everyone saw a bright future for me, but I had difficulty seeing it myself. I was young and inexperienced and I believed that the important thing was to follow the rules, the rest was just a part of me, something I did naturally.

I imagine that becoming Vernestra’s Padawan was just the confirmation of that golden path everyone saw me on, but I was too caught up in the newness to really think about it.

However, I soon realized that I lost the balance I had created up to that point, I lost some friends, some simply due to distance, others were... cold towards me.

I didn't understand what had changed. I would never have accused anyone of feeling emotions like jealousy or anger towards me, we were children. Missteps were normal, and we were taught that it was right to face them and learn from them.

But if you asked around, many would have described me as someone who never made mistakes, who always responded with a gentle smile, a comforting word, a hand on the shoulder, or even just a pleasant company if you needed to vent. Perhaps that was the problem. I appeared too perfect in the eyes of others.

And yet, the Master didn’t make me feel that way. She taught me everything calmly, I followed her every step, she reprimanded me harshly, but always with care. She soon realized how much I sought validation in everything I did.

It was stronger than me, I believed I was always making a mistake, that I was in the wrong. After all, who was I to say something was right or wrong? I was just a Padawan. A child.

And anyway, it wasn’t the Jedi’s job to give answers, but rather to push people to understand for themselves.

Even though it was a concept I found difficult to grasp myself.

Anyway, that’s how I met Qimir.

He was Vernestra’s former Padawan, now promoted to Jedi Knight and independent in his duties, but he often visited us, either to seek advice from his old Master or just to ask how she was doing. I found him very sweet.

The first time I met him in person, I already knew his name. He had managed to stand out as soon as he started his duties as a Knight. Among the younger ones, there was a sense of reverence towards him even though we had never seen him in person. And besides, it was rumored that he was terribly handsome, not that it particularly interested me at the time.

I remember I was in the library with Vernestra, she had assigned me some basic readings to start my future physical training. Young ones are already taught at an early age to defend themselves and to learn various positions, but it was more about building an understanding of your Force signature, learning to trust your senses. The real training would then be individual for the student once they had a Master, so she had recommended these introductory readings on the various forms of combat and their use.

Those were afternoons I remembered with particular affection. Sitting in silence, she would take a more suitable book or bring her work documents on her datapad, and the hours would pass in an instant. Sometimes, I would glance at her to see what she was doing. She noticed every time, smiled slightly, and gently scolded me, telling me to return to my tasks.

I was happy. I felt cared for, appreciated, but not in the cold manner of a teacher with their student. It was a feeling I didn’t quite know how to place in my heart, and it worried me a bit, but I kept my doubts for another day.

On one of those quiet afternoons, I met Qimir. The room was particularly deserted that day, so the sound of footsteps approaching could be heard clearly along the shelves. Thinking it was the librarian, I didn’t pay much attention and remained with my nose buried in the book. Even when he stopped in front of our table I didn’t pay attention. Then, a deep male voice I didn’t recognize spoke Vernestra’s name.

Curiosity flared up in an instant, and as the two began a light conversation next to me, I slowly raised my gaze, the book almost serving as a shield, my hair partly covering my eyes. In front of us stood a young man in his twenties, dressed in the classic brown Jedi Knight attire, speaking casually to Vernestra. His slightly long, smooth hair, a light smile, and dark eyes framed by a chiseled jaw.

It was the first time I saw him. And the first time my heart beat so fast in my chest.

I didn’t know if it was because he was undeniably a handsome guy. I had never been too interested in that sort of thing, and anyway, it was forbidden for Jedi to have too impure thoughts. It was more... his aura. The amused smile but attentive eyes, the neat but relaxed posture... he seemed to shine with his own light. It was what I felt when I saw a member of the council, when I glimpsed Master Yoda in the corridors, reverence, respect, a bit of fear.

He was captivating, and he seemed to be aware of it.

I didn’t even realize that I had been staring at him longer than I should have. He noticed the insistent gaze on him. I must have looked quite ridiculous, a young girl hiding behind a book while staring at the great Jedi Knight, but the smile he gave me right after almost took my breath away as I blushed, perhaps for the first time in my life.

“And you must be the new Padawan who took my place. Nice to meet you, I’m Qimir” he said, extending a hand, and after casting a nervous glance at Vernestra, who was smiling at me, I hugged the book to my chest with one arm, my palm tingling, unsure whether to return the handshake.

Another inner turmoil came with that first touch. His hands had long, slender fingers, marked by numerous calluses, probably from gripping the lightsaber or the various missions he faced. It was just another reason why I started to admire him. I could see all the dots connecting in this figure that represented everything I wanted to become. A Jedi. A reference point for those in need.

I said my name in a low, timid voice, and he leaned towards me with a slight frown “Such a small voice, are you always like this, or am I making you nervous?” he joked, but I bit my lip, not knowing what to reply, I pulled my hand away, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he began to gently rub my knuckles with his thumb.

“Leave her alone, Qimir. She’s shy, don’t start with your teasing” Vernestra scolded him, at which he let go. I hid my hand under the table, clenching it into a fist, my skin tingling.

“Sorry, sorry. It must be a relief for you to have someone like this after me” she sighed but didn’t deny it either, at which I let out a smile and he, noticing, winked at me.

That was the first time I had dealings with him. But soon I began to see him everywhere. When he wasn’t on a mission, he stayed around the temple, so I encountered him in the corridors, in the halls, in the meditation room, and he always had a kind smile for me.

He made me feel special even though I knew it was a selfish feeling. When I managed to study with other Padawans in the library or practiced in the courtyard, he always stopped by to give me a nod. My friends were jealous, but I wasn’t really offended. Qimir was... kind.

It was like seeing the Force alive and pulsing around him. It was impossible not to look at him, not to wish that he would glance at you even just once.

Everyone wanted to be like him. Charismatic. Confident. Everyone wanted to be his friend.

One of the first missions I did with Master Vernestra was another point of contact. Being young, I wasn’t yet allowed in particularly dangerous scenarios, not to mention that if there was one thing I was lacking in, it was combat. I followed the Master almost everywhere, political life was just as important in a Jedi’s path, and I had to understand the mechanics early on for when I would be older, even though they were often more moments of leisure.

The meetings lasted hours, often discussing places, people, and things I knew nothing about. I tried to stay focused, but it was really difficult, and even Vernestra thought I shouldn’t strain myself too much, so she let me roam around, maybe continue studying, or even just take a little break.

One day, ready to depart, we were loading the luggage onto the ship. We were going to spend a few days on Hoth, and I was incredibly excited since I had never experienced a planet with that kind of climate before. As I was lost in my thoughts, a light knock interrupted me. At the foot of the ramp, Qimir gave me a half-smile "Is there room for me too?" I was still intimidated by his presence since we had never really spoken before. I opened my mouth several times, glancing around awkwardly, not sure if he was teasing me or if I was too stupid to understand what he meant.

"I hope you didn’t bring your usual baggage" Vernestra said behind me, gently placing a hand on my shoulder. I looked at her, confused "Excuse me Master, is Qimir coming with us?" I struggled even to pronounce his name, it felt like an insult to do so, as if I didn’t have enough experience to earn such a privilege.

"What, you don't want me around?" he smiled as he walked up the ramp. I squirmed uncomfortably, realizing the embarrassing situation I had caused "N-no, I didn’t mean that—" He smiled even more, but Vernestra intervened again, scolding him "Give her some space Qimir."

The plan was simple: it was a diplomatic mission, and Qimir had joined us to study for a few days with his former master. I didn’t know exactly what he needed, but he wanted her advice. We left a few minutes later, and I avoided the control room like the plague. I only entered once to ask how much longer it would take, burning alive under Qimir’s gaze, then I shut myself in the bedroom and did my homework.

Hoth was as beautiful as it was freezing. But it was worth it; I had never seen such an immense expanse of white, the ground soft underfoot from the snow, the ice mountains, creatures I had never seen before. Vernestra stopped to talk to some locals, and I approached the enormous door overlooking the ice field. I wondered if the entire planet was like this. Did anyone live in those isolated areas? How could anyone survive in such a harsh climate?

A gloved hand rested on my back, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I turned, expecting to see my master, but under the hood, it was Qimir’s dark eyes that looked at me with a gentle smile on his face.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" he asked before turning back to look at the white expanse before us. I nodded hesitantly. Nervous about speaking to him, I bit my lip but managed to gather the courage "Do you know... if there’s anyone who lives in these lands?" He looked at me, puzzled, and I quickly corrected myself "I mean... besides the local species. Or aliens accustomed to these temperatures. Do you think others could live in a place like this?" He let out a small amused puff, "Well, we actually know for sure. There are many bandits or pirates hiding in these lands. Mainly to hide something, you know, it’s not worth sending search teams into snowstorms for a single man" he explained.

I made a sound of acknowledgment, but he continued "And if we’re talking about others... I think so. Someone who likes solitude or seeks peace. It seems like a good place not to be found" At that point, I turned toward him "Completely alone? It seems..." sad. But I was afraid to say it out loud, sadness wasn’t one of those emotions a Jedi should typically feel, but it felt natural to feel melancholy at the thought of people wanting to lose themselves in nothingness, to never be found again.

"Sad?" he seemed to read my mind "You see, emotions are very complicated to recognize. What might seem sad to you might mean peace to others. As Jedi, we often take many emotions for granted, but we often forget to give them context" I listened, hanging on his every word.

The conversation seemed... strange in some way. It made sense. Of course it did, he was older than me, had more experience in the field, and knew what he was talking about. I should have just nodded and thanked him for sharing those words.

I ignored the burning sensation I felt and thanked him in a faint voice It felt silly to do so, but it was the least I could do.

He smiled at me and gently took my hand "Let’s go, we need to warm up a bit. Trust me, in two more minutes, you won’t be able to feel the tip of your nose" he joked. I stifled a giggle and let him lead me inside toward the rooms. I didn’t know if it was because we were both wearing gloves or because of the conversation we had just had, but I didn’t feel uncomfortable being held by the hand.

A couple of days later, I was alone in one of the bases scattered across the ice. Vernestra was in a meeting and had forbidden me from attending due to the sensitivity of some of the information that would be exchanged. The problem was that these places weren’t particularly full of people or things to do. Yes, there was a bar area, but after the third cup of hot chocolate, I was afraid of pushing my stomach to the limit, so I stayed at the entrance, my feet in a pile of snow as I doodled or made small, questionable-looking statues.

I was so engrossed in the crooked little house I was shaping out of the ice that I didn’t notice the snowball being thrown in my direction.

I let out a startled yelp when it hit the hood on my head. I spun around just in time to see Qimir burst into laughter "Why did you do that?!" I stood up quickly, brushing the snow off my head.

"You looked so bored, I woke you up, didn’t I?" he chuckled.

I glared at him with a pout while he continued to laugh, so I decided to get revenge.

I bent down to grab a pile of snow, quickly making two balls. I threw the first one, but he easily dodged it.

He turned with an arrogant smile, ready to boast when the second one hit him square in the face.

I burst into laughter. He wiped the snow from his nose, his smile gone before bending down to grab more snow.

I shouted his name, realizing immediately what he was about to do, and started running through the snow with him on my heels. We didn’t even have time to make proper snowballs, we just grabbed the snow in our hands, compacted it as best we could, and threw it at each other in a never-ending war. Sometimes I noticed people giving us amused looks as they arrived or departed from the base, but I didn’t care, I was so happy that, for the first time, I didn’t even care what people thought of me.

An hour later, Vernestra called us back, giving us a confused look. She sighed and sent us to dry off. I felt a bit embarrassed at that moment, and I apologized for the childish behavior, but she smiled at me and assured me there was nothing wrong with what we had done.

In the end I took a full shower someone had left dinner on my bed, considering how long I had been under the hot water. I ate and, putting on one of the heavy local pajamas, decided to step out into the hallway to ask the Master what we would be doing the next day. I knew she wasn’t in bed yet, based on her nightly habits.

I walked down the hallway on the second floor, where the various guest rooms were located, when I noticed that her door was already open.

I approached slowly and immediately recognized Qimir’s voice.

"I’m just saying, if we block the main routes, they’d be forced to come out into the open" With a sense of curiosity, I pressed myself against the wall to peek into the room. The two were looking at an old map spread out on the table.

"I agree, but it would take too many resources, and we don’t know the exact times or routes. It would take a lot of time" she replied wearily. Qimir, standing next to her, bit his lip before flashing one of his smiles, "Or... we could sneak in"

She sighed again "The point is the same. We don’t have the resources—"

"I’ll go in myself. I’ll cut the power right under their noses, and—" She interrupted him with a wave of her hand.

"Do you realize what you’re saying? Sneaking in like a thief, and then what? Even if I let you do it, they could still escape, and..." He circled the desk, positioning himself in front of her, his back to me, so I barely heard what he said "No one said we need them alive—"

A sudden thud made me jump. I pressed my hands to my mouth, paralyzed, afraid they had heard me "No. Stop this nonsense, Qimir."

I don’t know what they said after that, I was too busy slipping back into my room, the conversation I had just overheard spinning in my head.

Sometimes, as a Jedi, you had to make drastic choices, right?

Or at least, it seemed that way.

I tried to forget about it and went to sleep.

[riptidekissesblog]

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓhey girlies, ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓv

as promised, here are 15 things that helped me seriously level up. I'm so sick of seeing the same things on every blog post and it's just like stay hydrated!!

try new hobbies until you find ones that bring you the most fufillment!! (examples to try: art, crochet, writing, making music, photography, gardening, cooking)

find YOUR exercise, whether it's yoga, pilates, sports, weight training, dance. I can't stress this enough.

I know meditation seems cliche, but it really can help clear your mind and bring balance. a tip that helps me is to visualize your tongue relaxing, almost like it's floating. that will help silence your mind so you can fully surrender.

pay attention to your diet. so much of what we eat is processed junk food. try to eat 80% Whole Foods and 20% processed foods. meal prepping really helped me also not buying junk food at all. this step seems difficult but i promise there is a healthy alternative to most of your favortite foods. remember, you are what you eat ;)

when it comes to beauty, the simpler the better (its also cheaper!!) some things I would invest in would be coconut and castor oil because they can be used on everything. also a gel nail kit and a good electric razor for your face. the more you obess on every detail the more it will consume you. you are enough and don't need a million beauty hacks. (also sun-in works nice for natural highlights)

no company is better than bad company, don't accept low-vibe behavior from ANYONE

make an it girl playlist with upbeat songs from rihanna, lady gaga, katy perry, marina, and other 2000s hits. I don't know what it is but those songs will bring out the inner goddess in you.

don't compare yourself to anyone!!!! everyone is on their own journey, focus on yours. everyone has their own energetic signature. be yourself. stop wanting to impress others.

listen to binaural beats if you have blocked chakras or want to attract wealth, love, luck etc). they're also super relaxing.

give up all your limiting beliefs, anything is possible if you want it bad enough. it's gotta be someone, why couldn't it be you?

go with the flow, things happen for a reason. if you find yourself regretting a decision, remind youself that the other choice may have been worse, how do you know??

take ownership for your problems, the only one to blame is yourself. i am a firm believer that you can change anything you don't like about your reality. you deserve happiness.

live in the moment. ask yourself are you enjoying the moment, if not, what can you change. if you can't change anything, LEAVE. protect your peace girl!

stop insecurity from the root. you don't love yourself becuase you haven't worked on yourself. you are a garden that needs watering. i promise, once you complete this list you will love the person you become.

surround youself with love. do every task out of love. speak every word from a loving place. love everyone. we are all human.

i really hope this helps. this list came from YEARS of self-work. i created this blog so girls can learn how to become their most healed beautiful selves.

love you girlies!! ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

[ghcstao3]

(x)

It’s… different, having a teammate held for a genuine interrogation, and not just for some qualifying exercise they’ve all had to participate in.

Soap and Ghost’s fight hadn’t been very fun, for as long as it had lasted. Nothing like their spars where teasing remarks were made around skillful manoeuvres, where at the end of everything they knew what limits could be pushed and what boundaries to respect. Instead it was fought dirty, viciously, and only because Soap knows Ghost was he able to stand his ground at all.

In the end, though, as the targets were detained or killed and the illegal fighting ring shut down—Soap came out victorious, when Ghost had been tranquilized.

The lighting is hardly any better in their makeshift interrogation room, but it’s enough to show Ghost’s withered state since his capture; gaunt cheeks, new scars, hollow stare. He hadn’t come into the arena with a shirt, so he doesn’t have one now—and it hurts Soap to see the outline of his ribs with every haggard breath he takes.

Soap is off in the sidelines as Price pokes and prods his lieutenant for answers—Soap had been deemed too injured to risk getting close, even when Ghost had been restrained. He holds a melting ice pack to a swollen, split lip with the one arm that hadn’t been recently dislocated and reset. He’ll admit that Ghost did a number on him.

He just prays they can get the lieutenant back.

But as the days stretch on, it gets increasingly difficult to hold onto hope. With no information, no signs of breaking, no signs of Simon—he might become a lost cause. And Soap doesn’t think he’s prepared to accept that yet.

Two weeks later, after they’ve moved location and shifted accommodations, Price resigns to finally let Soap help. He’s in much better shape, though the same can hardly be said about Ghost; he barely eats, hasn’t spoken once, and no one on the team is sure he’s really been sleeping.

Soap’s approach is slow. Ghost has already been roused and restrained yet again, perhaps only to be pushed and questioned to no avail like every other time. He barely spares Soap a glance upon his entrance into the room.

Their eyes properly meet for the first time in years when Soap kneels on the ground before Ghost, almost pleading. As if in prayer.

Simon’s eyes were always warm. They were the colour of Simon’s favourite tea, flecked with honey gold when the light hit his irises at just the right angle. Now, his gaze is frigid, his eyes nearly black. It takes everything within Soap not to mourn then and there.

“I’m sorry,” Soap murmurs. “I was supposed to have your six.”

Ghost stares at him with indifference, his attention in a faraway place. Soap misses his lieutenant now more than ever.

“I’d understand if you never forgive me,” Soap continues, itching to reach out and touch, “but I at least need you to come back, yeah? Please, Simon.”

Ghost’s jaw twitches almost imperceptibly.

Against all orders Price had given Soap, and against all training that has Soap’s instincts screaming—he leans his head against Ghost’s knee. He exhales shakily and just… sits like that, for a little while. Ghost doesn’t move, so neither does Soap, and maybe this will be the best thing the sergeant could get ever again, so he relishes.

Soap almost misses the hitch in Ghost’s own breathing, but he certainly doesn’t miss trembling, curious fingers dragging through his mohawk, now nearly overgrown. Soap freezes.

Ghost’s voice is nothing more than a hoarse whisper when he speaks, but Soap’s heart is pounding loudly in his chest as he listens anyway.

Quiet, broken, and nearly inaudible, something slips from Ghost’s lips for the first time in two weeks.

“Johnny.”

[harunayuuka2060]

Twst Unveil Event Part 6

Philomela: You want to change the location you've chosen?

Silver: Yes. If it is possible.

Philomela: Hmm... I would've granted your request; however, you're up next. It would be difficult for me to make last minute changes.

Silver: But... Didn't you say that it isn't a problem to you?

Philomela: ...

Philomela: *laughs*

Philomela: Clever kid! Alright! Let me hear your reason first!

Silver: ...

Silver: I realized that the location I've chosen is nothing compared to what Sebek and Floyd had chosen.

Philomela: Hm? You think that Enchanted Garden is nothing?

Silver: Huh?

Philomela: Listen here, Silver.

Philomela: It might seem that it doesn't pose any threat, but trust me. That garden is one of the places you should never underestimate.

Silver: ...

Philomela: Still, if you really want to change it, then I'll have to respect it.

Silver: ...

Silver: No, it's fine. I'm sticking to my chosen location.

Philomela: *smiles* Good.

Leona: Yuurin!

Yuurin: Leona-senpai?

Leona: What was that, huh?!

Yuurin: ...

Ruggie and Jack: ...

Leona: *looks pissed*

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: I won the second match, Leona-senpai.

Leona: Yeah, congrats. But that's not the point!

Ruggie: Shishishi!

Malleus, Sebek, Epel, Floyd, and Jade: ...

Epel: Is Leona here to scold him or what?

Jade: He must've been worried.

Floyd: Eeeehhh~ So Sea Lion is here for me too~?

Sebek: It might be! Because you attempted to drown Yuurin!

Floyd: Hehe~ You're just jealous that our match was more exciting than yours~.

Sebek: WHAT DID YOU SAY?!

Malleus: Sebek, calm down.

Sebek: Krk... Yes, Waka-sama...

Epel: *sigh*

Yuurin: *has introduced Leona to Philomela*

Philomela: Ah, you look strong! You should join our wrestling competition next time!

Leona: No, thank you. I'm too lazy for that.

Yuurin: Philomela, can I ask you to prepare a room for Leona-senpai?

Philomela: Of course. But isn't he here to watch?

Ruggie: Nah. His heart is too fragile.

Jack: *nods in agreement*

Leona: *glares at them*

Ruggie and Jack: ...

Philomela: I see. So he's like Akane, huh?

Leona: Huh? What about Aki— I mean, Akane?

Philomela: She always worries for Yuurin. It never came across to her that her brother received blessings from the gods.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Aren't we all, Philomela?

Philomela: Yes. That's why I will never understand your sister.

Philomela: Us from the Kingdom of Heroes have always been adventurous!

Philomela: Danger excites us!

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: I have to disagree on that.

Philomela: That's your opinion. Haha!

Leona: ...

Leona: Let's change the subject.

Leona: Who's the next person to fight Yuurin?

Philomela: Silver.

Leona: Huh.

Ruggie and Jack: ...

Ruggie: *whispers to Jack* He's already crossing out Silver from his list.

Jack: *whispers back* List of what?

Ruggie: Yuurin's potential suitors.

Jack: ...

Philomela: Our third match is about to begin!

Philomela: Are you ready fighters?!

Yuurin and Silver: Yes!

Leona: *frowning*

Malleus: You do not need to worry, Kingscholar.

Malleus: Yuurin will be alright.

Leona: I don't need your reassurance, lizard.

Sebek: How dare you?! You should be grateful that Waka-sama is showing some concern to you, human!

Leona: I don't need it. And I don't care.

Malleus: *smirks* Well I hope Yuurin win against Silver.

Leona: ...

Leona: Huh?

Malleus: Silver has been trained by Lilia.

Malleus: There is a chance that Yuurin might lose this match.

Leona: Are you making me laugh?

Malleus: I'm only stating the possibilities.

Leona: Grr... *smirks* Then I hope your Silver won't lose.

Malleus: *smug face*

Epel, Jade, Ruggie, Jack, and Floyd: ...

Floyd: Looks like Damselfish can't afford to lose now~.

Epel: So is Silver.

Jade: Hm. Everyone, has anyone seen Rook?

Epel: Oh, Rook-senpai is doing some warm-up exercises in preparation for his match.

Jade: I see.

Yuurin and Silver: *have been sent to the Enchanted Garden*

Silver: This is...

Yuurin: ...

*The Enchanted Garden is a place straight out of nightmare — with heavy storms and lightning striking the ground.*

Leona: What the heck?

Philomela: Ah, one of the most beautiful places in the Kingdom of Heroes. Hahaha!

Ruggie: This is going to be difficult for both of them.

Philomela: I doubt it.

Leona: What do you mean?

Philomela: That place is being taken care of by a nymph, who Yuurin rejected.

Leona and the others: !!!

Silver: I don't understand. This is not what I imagined this place to be.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: It is a beautiful place. Though you'll get to see it after the nymph who's protecting it is no longer mad at me.

Silver: I see.

Philomela: ENOUGH TALK! START FIGHTING!

Yuurin and Silver: ...

Yuurin and Silver: *proceed to take their fighting stances*

Sebek: SILVER! DO YOUR BEST AND WIN THIS!

Epel: Sebek, can't you just watch quietly?

Sebek: Hmph!

Malleus and Leona: ...

Ruggie: Damn. These two look so serious.

Yuurin and Silver: *seems to be thinking the same thing*

Yuurin and Silver: *charges at each other, aiming to grab other's shoulder*

Yuurin and Silver: *fends off each other*

Yuurin and Silver: *creates distance then attacks again*

Epel: Holy shit—

Malleus: *smirks*

Leona: ...

Leona: What's going on? Why does it seem to me that Yuurin is slowing down?

Philomela: The garden is restricting his movements, providing an opportunity for Silver.

Leona: ...

Epel: Yuurin is slowing down?

Philomela: Yes.

Philomela: Watch closely.

Yuurin: *her steps look heavy whenever she moves*

Epel: Wait... Is the gravity... different for him?!

Philomela: Haha! You have a keen eye! Yes!

Leona: ...

Ruggie and Jack: ...

Yuurin: !

Silver: *has finally managed to grab Yuurin's shoulder*

Silver: *quickly pulled her leg and pushed forward; both of them falling to the ground* *then stayed on top of her*

Leona: That little—!

Malleus: Looks like the match has been decided—

Yuurin: *uses sweep; knocking Silver off-balance by hooking his hip with her leg, then used her other leg and upper body to create a momentum and flipped him over*

Silver: *is genuinely impressed*

Malleus and Leona: ...

Leona: What were you saying again, lizard?

Sebek: SILVER! THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO BE AMAZED!

Philomela: *laughs*

Yuurin: *doesn't waste any second and immediately applies the Ezekiel choke by gripping his collar with one hand and sliding her other arm under his head, positioning her forearm against his neck*

Yuurin: *applying downward pressure with the hand gripping the collar while using her forearm to compress his windpipe*

Silver: !!!

Silver: *tries to escape*

Yuurin: *doesn't budge no matter how he tries to move*

Silver: ...

Silver: I... give up.

Yuurin: *lets go of him* *sighs in relief*

Silver: *coughs; catching his breath* .

Silver: I need... to train more.

Yuurin: Just say when and I'll help you.

Silver: ...

Silver: *smiles* Thank you.

Philomela: Our winner— Yuurin!!!

Silver: I'm sorry. I lost.

Malleus: *smiles* That is alright. You did your best.

Sebek: Hmph! I told you to win!

Leona: Yuurin, how are you feeling?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: My body feels sore.

Leona: ...

Leona: You should rest a little.

Philomela: Yuurin! That was amazing! *picks her up and hugs her tight*

Leona: !!!

Leona: Hey!

Yuurin: ...

Philomela: One more match! *laughs*

Yuurin: Please let go of me.

Epel: I feel bad for Yuurin. His match with Silver must've exhausted him.

Jade: Honestly, I think it was more of the garden's fault.

Floyd: *nods in agreement*

Rook: Oh la la~.

Rook: *amused smile*

Rook: Our match will surely be interesting, Monsieur Tranquille.

[greenqueenhightower]

Alicent's Harem of Useless Boys: A Green Council Scene in 2x05 Analysis:

The scene opens with a shot of Alicent’s hands on the small council table. As the camera slowly moves upwards we see Alicent's worried expression. Grand Maester Orwyle reports on Aegon's condition and adds: "There are more injuries within, injuries we cannot see." Alicent flinches. How much does this comment describe the state of her own soul.

"I'm not sure he will ever wake". Alicent makes a conscious effort to appear strong and obscure any display of emotion that might make the male council members think of her as vulnerable and weak. As much as it pains her to think about the possibility of her son's death, the small council isn't the place for her to expose her agony. She is sitting on that council as a Queen and an advisor. She must put any personal feelings aside. She is ready to play her part as a politician.

"We must name a regent to take his place until he recovers. Or does not." Alicent self-regulates by tapping her nails on the hardwood before her. She stands up and states how the small council ought to proceed next. They should capitalize on the battle at Rook's Rest and let the smallfolk hear about the King's heroic deeds. Then, it is she who first recognizes the need for a regent to rule in his place.

"I myself served in this role for my husband. I am well-prepared to do it again." Alicent knows it will be difficult to take all the council members to her side as she vies for herself as a regent. The camera cuts to all of them, Ironrod, Orwyle, Tyland, her son Aemond, Larys, and Criston, as Alicent reveals her eagerness and readiness to rule. I'm exceptionally struck by the shot where Alicent has stood up, presenting herself as both a sacrifice and a means of salvation, evidently stating: "Here I am, your new regent" and the council does not even dare look at her. They are unwilling to consider the possibility of having Alicent, a woman, rule over them let alone lead or save them. They have no need for a female Messiah, no more than they require a female King.

"And here I had forgotten." Alicent responds sarcastically to Ironrod's comment about her unfitness to rule, having only done so in a time of peace. Alicent is no stranger to difficult circumstances. Her restraint from impulsive violence, trained leadership qualities, and acute sensitivity towards the good of the smallfolk are exactly what this realm needs. Why don't they see her point? Who else has ruling experience? Certainly not Aemond, whose rash actions have caused two catastrophes already? Doesn't anyone fear what else Aemond might be capable of if he gains more power and the authority to exercise it any way he likes?

"The obvious choice is his immediate successor, Prince Aemond." The council members willingly blind themselves to the dangers of naming Aemond as regent. There is a moment of awkward silence as Alicent seeks supporters within her council. She turns to Criston who avoids her gaze yet again.

"Experience is valuable, yes, but the Dowager Queen is a woman." Grand Maester Orwyle is the only one to speak in her favor but is quickly silenced by Ironrod and Tyland who imply a lack of strength for their side if a woman is to rule. Alicent affirms how suited she has proved to be for the role before she turns to Larys, her ally, for support.

"What would it say if, in response to Rhaenyra's crowning, we raised up a woman of our own?" Alicent breathes more heavily as she understands that the nature of her being completely sidelined and bypassed for her unruly son is political. They are not expected to be taken seriously by their fealty houses and allies who have offered their support precisely because they dislike the idea of having a woman sit the Iron Throne. The basis of the Green agenda has come to be reduced to the patriarchal principle. Aegon should have been crowned instead of Rhaenyra because he was the first-born male heir. Any male heir in his place will do for the Green cause, regardless of whether he is the best choice and irrespective of any consequences to the realm. It simply does not matter.

"It's agreed then." Alicent sits back down and Aemond assumes the place of regent. Scorned by her lover, her allies, her son, and the rest of the council, Alicent experiences disillusionment with her own political ambitions. Right in front of her eyes, the men in her life conspire to silence her as they pursue their own goals. Larys did not miss a beat to expose Criston's betrayal to sting her. Does he hope to salvage a relationship with her? Does he now gloat over his triumph for making her feel like a complete fool for sleeping with one of them and doing favors for the other? Does he relish seeing her tower of trust in them both crumble, as the power slips through her fingers? Larys' gaze seems apologetic; Criston cannot bear to face her yet again.

"No one is to leave or enter, save with our consent." As the men in the council resume making their plans, the camera is fixed on Alicent who recognizes the little value placed on all she's done and sacrificed because she’s a woman. Alicent, who the entire time effectively hid any emotional vulnerability associated with femininity, now disassociates, shakes her head in dismay, breathes heavily and tears up, reveals her anguish over Aemond's decisions, and has the pangs of utter rejection engraved on her face. Alicent knows that closing the gates is a bad idea, yet she says nothing. Does her advice have any value anymore? Alicent finally discovers that her political prowess as a ruler is reduced to that of a spectator. There will always be someone contesting and undermining her grasp for power because she was born out of the Targaryen male-dominated world. But what hurts more at the moment, is the revelation that she supported it.

Or worse, that she gave birth to it.

She is once again a prisoner to the narrative that she so wished to escape, and her captors sit right next to her at the same table.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Hi guys!

After the last one, I needed another with fluff and easy love, so this just come from my imagination. I hope you will like it ♥

Resume : Motherhood is hard, especially when your better half is in training camp far from you.

TW : Little Angst, but fluff :)

PART 2 IS HERE!

______________________________________________________________

Alexia and you met when she was going through one of the worst moments of her life. It was when the footballer made her ACL. For your part, you had graduated as a physiotherapist a few years ago and were looking for a new challenge. When you heard that FC Barcelona were looking for a new physio, you didn’t hesitate to apply. It was hard, but by some miracle, you got the job. The managers didn’t tell you that the job was for the women’s team, but it suited you even better.

A month after you arrived at your post, Alexia began to follow her treatment after her operation. You’ve been assigned as Miss Putellas' special physiotherapist, probably a bit of a probation. You’ve been warned that she might be difficult to handle, her injury having affected her otherwise than physically.

And it was true, in the first few sessions, she barely spoke. She was polite, said hello, thank you, and goodbye. For your part, you remained calm while being empathetic. As you were told, she seemed even more troubled psychologically than physically and you could feel her pain. So you searched about her favorite songs and you made a playlist for her during your massages or during her exercises.

Over time your relationships relaxed and you found yourself eagerly waiting for the time of day when you would have to take care of Alexia. You obviously noticed her beauty and the aura that reigned around her. A friendship and mutual trust was quickly created between you two and she gradually confided to you. On trivial things at first, before your discussions become deeper.

She told you about her father, her family, her fear of not being able to play again and the difficulties she was experiencing with the Spanish Federation. You were shocked to learn what was happening and immediately felt angry. And the first feeling you had was a vital desire to protect Alexia from all this. And the other girls you’re playing with at FC Barcelona as well of course, since you’re the one who plays nurses on the bench at all their matches. But Alexia was coming first.

The first time Alexia could start running on a machine now, you could have cried of joy and relief. She was recovering well, even faster than the best prognosis. And seeing such a sincere smile come back on her face was something really comforting for you. The embrace you exchanged that day gave you chills you still remember.

The day she returned to the team for her first training on the pitch, you were there too, but in the back. Her friends/teammates welcomed her with big smiles and hugs, but at the end of the training she came to you. She once again took you in her arms and whispered a thank you in your ear. No need for long speeches, you knew perfectly well how much this word meant to her.

While you expected this to signal a new distance between the two of you, Alexia surprised you by asking if you were free the same evening to go for a drink. It surprised you, Alexia having the habit of not changing her schedule meal, back to school or bedtime. But when she stuttered "For like, you know, a d- a date?" you couldn't say no.

The rest is history and here you are years later in an healthy, loving et happy relationship. You even got engaged last Christmas.

Alexia always wanted to start a family and your heart melt every time she was interacting with a baby or child. On your second date, she asked you if you wanted children, testifying to the importance she already attached to a future family life between you two. You answered positively, because yes, you wanted to have children and with Alexia would be amazing.

So, a month ago, you welcomed into your lives Santana Eli Putellas. A perfect photocopy of Alexia, even if you were the one pregnant. Thanks to modern methods, you were able to transfer her egg into your body. It was much easier for Alexia’s career, even though she was more attentive to you than ever.

The same eyes, the same mouth, the same hair, the same face, the same look. Even Eli couldn’t figure out which of the two photos was Alexia and Santana when faced with this plot. It’s almost disturbing, but the idea of having created a second perfection in this world suits you perfectly.

Except that even perfection has its difficulties and you realize it more than ever today. For some reason, Santana hasn’t stopped crying since her afternoon nap. Despite her clean diaper, her full stomach, her usual afternoon stroll or her favorite nursery rhymes, you were unable to calm her down. So much so that you couldn’t even answer Alexia’s messages, who went to training camps for the national team.

Even if this camp is held in Barcelona, the team lives in a hotel for a few days, before flying to Canada for their first match. Your lack of answer probably explains why you find yourself having to answer a call from your fiancée after 9pm. You hesitate before answering, your physical state must be scary and Santana is always sobbing on your shoulder. But knowing Alexia’s protective lioness instinct, you’d rather not worry her any longer.

"Hola mi Amor" you try a smile when a frowning Alexia appears on the screen.

"What happened? Why didn't you answer to my text? I was beginning to believe that something serious had happened to you"

"Don't worry, we are fine"

You were still rocking Santana on your shoulder, putting your phone on the counter of your kitchen. After bathing her, you put on her pajamas in the colors of FC Barcelona and she is currently digesting her second bottle of the evening. Whereas normally she takes only one before falling asleep to wake up at midnight and then around 6 am. This baby is really perfect. Except that today something seems wrong.

"Are you sure? You look exausted mi vida"

The concern on Alexia's face is deep and you don't want to worry her. You don't want her to believe that you can't take care of your daughter for a day either. Alexia only left this morning after all.

"We are fine Ale, I pr-"

"Does the best goddaughter in the world make her Mama miserable?"

Mapi’s face suddenly sticks to Alexia's, certainly so that she can also have a glimpse of Santana. Choosing Mapi as godmother was the best idea, the tattooed one being the most adorable with Santana. A chaotic godmother certainly, but you know perfectly well that she too would be ready to take out her claws to defend Santana if necessary.

"Kind of, but everything is under control" you laugh, before realizing that she wasn't listening to you at all, cooing sweat words to Santana. "Did I suddenly become invisible?"

"Not for me" Alexia answer with tenderness in her voice. "I miss you both of you so much, I don't know how I will survive two weeks so far away"

"You will be perfect, as always mi Amor"

She smiles at you, Mapi having a side conversation with your daughter, and you see the concern coming back.

"Can you promise me that you are fine?"

You bite your lip and sight. It was not fair of her to play the sincerity card. She knows that you can't lie to her, even when you want to make her surprise, you have to ask the help of someone.

"Look, she's just having a bad day that's all. Tomorrow will be better."

Alexia opened her mouth to speak and most certainly contradict you, but noise next to her announces the arrival of other people. You smile when you see Ona and Ingrid appear on the screen, Mapi pulling the sleeve of the Norwegian to almost stick her face to the screen ("Look at her, how is she so cute?").

You greet them friendly and discuss with them a few more moments before feeling that Santana starts to agitate again. Before Alexia can see how bad, you tell them you’re going to put her to bed. After promising Alexia to write to her as soon as Santana sleeps, you hang up and gently lift your daughter to put her face up to yours.

"Now that you’ve heard Mama and your Godmother, maybe we can get some rest yeah?"

After a final diaper check, you enter your daughter’s room and sit on her rocking chair. His blanket between you two, a little melody and a lull, it should go well and quickly.

An hour and a half later, you must realize you’re not. Santana continues to struggle with sleep and has begun to cry again. Seeing her like this ended up making you cry. After walking around your house trying to put her to sleep, you went back to her room. You don’t know what to do anymore.

You were thinking about calling Eli or your mother for help when you hear noise on the ground floor. Which shouldn’t happen, since you’re alone in the house with Santana. You listen despite the cries of your daughter and your hear footsteps, making you shiver. Holding your daughter close to your heart, you rush to the kitchen to grab a knife. Putting Santana safely in her crib might have been smarter, but you can’t bring yourself to leave her alone while a danger lurks in the house. The baby stopped crying, like if she understood that something bad is happening.

The noises of footsteps approach the kitchen and panic fades to give way to a cold determination. You have to protect your daughter no matter what. Sticking your back in the fridge, you raise the knife you hold in your hand, ready to hit the figure that enters the room. But...

"Wow! It’s me Baby! It’s me!"

With both hands in the air, Alexia looks at you with wide eyes less than a meter from you.

"Alexia? Wha- what are you doing here?"

"You weren't answering my text again and I... Can you put this knife down please?"

"Oh... Yes, sorry."

You were shaking. The sound of metal that the knife makes when you put it on the marble of the worktop resonates in the room.

"I was too concerned to leave you both alone."

Alexia confesses with almost shyness, certainly fearing that you would take this information badly. You could have, a few hours before. Exhausted from this day, you carefully avoid your girlfriend’s gaze.

"I’m so sorry I scared you. Can I have her?"

Santana started to squirm in your arms and cry again and you gently reach her to Alexia. With a natural ability, the blonde forms a small nest with her arms to accommodate the little body of your daughter. She calms down almost instantly and only then do you realize you have tears in your eyes. After admiring Santana for a few moments, Alexia looks up at you and notices it too.

"Come here" she says, extending her free arm to you.

You cuddle against her, hiding your face in her neck. Her arm squeeze you thigh against her. Her smell helps you to relax and you mumble against her skin.

"I don’t understand what I did wrong today"

"Probably nothing mi Vida. Just like you said, she's just having a bad day. Let me take care of her and go take a hot shower and put on comfortable pajamas, alright?"

You hesitate for a few moments, but Alexia kisses you tenderly before gently pushing you towards your bathroom. You end up obeying, enjoying feeling your muscles relax under the hot water. When you get out, the condensation masked the mirror above the sink. After putting on Alexia’s shorts and t-shirt, you go looking for her in the calm of your home.

She delicately closes the door of Santana’s room when you appear in the corridor.

"Is she asleep?" you ask, incredulous.

Alexia answers with a simple smile and a nod, before taking you into the living room.

"How did you do it?"

"As usual"

Alexia shrugs while smiling and you sighs. That’s what you did, but you are still convinced that Santana simply miss Alexia. You’d rather not say it out loud, though, fearing it would prevent Alexia from focusing on her professional obligations.

"When do you have to go back?"

You try not to pout by asking her the question. It was the deal anyway, you knew very well what could happen when you decided to have a child.

"Not tonight, I informed the coach. I have to be in training tomorrow morning anyway."

The information makes you much too happy, you who promised not to prevent Alexia from following her professional ambitions. But you cannot hide your smile and you stick against her again, in search of affection and tenderness. Accepting your request, Alexia tightens her two arms around you, allowing you to feel perfectly safe.

You stay here for a while, simply taking advantage of the other’s presence. Alexia’s hands play with the tip of your hair while yours fondle her lower back tenderly.

"Did you eat?" you ask her after a few moments.

"No. What about you?"

You pout and Alexia doesn’t need any other words to answer. You just haven’t had time to swallow anything since your breakfast shared with the pretty blonde.

"Let me cook you something. It’s your turn to go put on your pajamas"

You let go of her arms and put a tender kiss on her lips, happy to have her with you when it was absolutely not planned. A few minutes later, you find yourself cooking a fideua, Alexia’s favorite.

Lost in your thoughts, still exhausted from this day, you don't hear Alexia’s steps coming in your direction. You’re too tired to jump when you feel her arms go around your waist, her lips kiss behind your ear making you smile.

"It smells very good mi Vida"

"That’s good because it’s ready"

You tiptoed to grab two plates, paying particular attention not to make too much noise to avoid waking Santana.

"Why don’t we sit on the couch and watch the television?"

Alexia’s proposal surprises you, but you willingly accept. You sit on the couch, letting Alexia settle against you this time. After all, she too is probably tired from her training. Seeing her eat your dish with enthusiasm makes you happy and you find yourself admiring it rather than feeding yourself.

"You're starring"

Alexia smiles and glances at you, making you smile back.

"Perhaps, but it's certainly by admiring you as soon as I have the opportunity that I was able to clone you" you joke softly.

Alexia laughs and puts her plate and cutlery on the coffee table, as you did a few minutes before her. She turns around abruptly before throwing herself into your arms, making you fall over on the couch. Seeing her so spontaneous with you while she tends to constantly master her image makes you melt. And when she puts dozens of kisses all over your face, you can’t help but giggle.

"I guess today’s not the day to tell you I want a big family?"

Her mischievous smile makes you roll your eyes.

"We’ll talk about it in like two years, if you don’t mind."

[dazaiandhislovelybandages]

does it have to be angst? i was gonna ask for married levi/reader with kids post war but 🥺🙏🏻 for angst maybe it could be about his injuries, with reader giving comfort?

Providing Comfort {Levi Ackerman}

A/n: thank you for requesting. Generally you can request whatever you want but I don't think I would actually write the request with him having kids. Anyways. I hope you like the comfort one.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

Trigger warnings: mentions of injuries, self doubt, low confidence, mentions of not liking oneself, mentions of painkillers

You knew the first months after the war were going to be the most difficult ones. It wasn't just because of the fact that everyone would have to get used to the new world but also because of the trauma everything had left behind.

"Just give me another... one of those little damn things." Levi groaned and despite your attempts to help him lie back down on the bed, he sat back up.

"Aspirins?" You let out a sigh and sat next to him.

The most difficult part in reality was trying to help the most stubborn man you knew with getting accustomed to his new daily life. For better or for worse, Levi refused to follow or at least understand the orders the doctor had given him. On one hand, it was understandable; he was used to constantly moving, training, going on expeditions and fighting, there was no way he could accept laying in bed all day in order to heal his injuries. On the other... it saddened you. He was colder than he had ever been, barely talking to anyone and when he did, his words cut deeper than any knife.

"Whatever that is. Just give it to me."

He had started making progress though, you had to admit at least that. In the beginning he wouldn't even tell you when or where he was in pain. It was like a guess game, you would squeeze his knee and pray the pain was too much for him to try and hold back any groans or expressions.

Most of the times it worked.

Then he figured out that he could take aspirins whenever he was in pain and ever since then he refused to let them go. But the doctor's visit yesterday had left him with zero options than to stop taking them.

"The doctor said no, Levi."

"Couldn't care less."

And you couldn't do much about it either. Even batting heads with him felt strange since having been under his command for so long usually meant him giving the orders and not vice versa.

"Maybe doing the exercises the doctor told you would help with the pain... just saying." A small awkward pause followed, small enough to feel as if centuries had passed until Levi shook his head. It didn't need a lot of thinking to figure out why he refused.

The following days after the war ended, Levi and who knows how many others were in the hospital. Unlike some people and like others, Levi didn't get out of there unscathed. The only injury he had partly accepted was his missing fingers which was both because it occured before the war started and also because he proved to himself that he can still do everything just perfect without having all five fingers.

Neither you nor him understood how you came to live with each other but unbeknownst to you, it was more of a comfort than a nuissance to him. However, he still had his... issues. The last thing he wanted was an old member of his team to see him at his worst. Not even Erwin had achieved something like that.

"I can help. I promise it will only help with the pain."

As much as he hated it, it wasn't as if he had much of a choice.

"All you had to do was ask."

Helping him with his exercises didn't take more than half an hour. Levi was a perfectionist and you knew it. He wasn't doing it to get the pain to go away but to prove to himself that he was in charge of his body. All of his life consisted of constantly proving something to himself.

"Are you planning on nagging me about it?" He reached out for the hot cup of tea you had prepared for him with a sigh.

"Maybe." You replied with a smile.

He had made much more of a progress than you had imagined. Not once had you imagined you'd see him finally relax his shoulders and lean back on the couch comfortably, holding his cup of tea in his peculiar way.

"Go on then."

It would take much more time to completely open up to you, let you provide him with proper comfort but for now and for the past few weeks, he was fine with you talking his ear out. It kept him mind off the pain and in one way or another it felt more comforting than the warm cup of tea he was holding.