#kaeli originals

[kaelidascope]

Not that anyone has context for my OCs but this is totally them

Redraw trend from Twitter of that one DBZ drawing

[mistyrealmsart]

Trying to visualize some ideas I’ve been playing around with…

[narrans]

Stellar Allies | Part Five

GT July | Stellar Allies | Part Five

Words: Overbearing, Out of Reach, Distortion

The question lingered in the back of Cliff’s mind for a few moments as the situation settled over him. It made perfect sense that Ol’oih, their newfound alien companion, would probably have crew members with him. If that thing that was in the sky was their ship, the pieces that broke off were probably also escape pods and not just meteorite debris as he and Jax originally thought.

With that being said, Cliff’s mind drew a complete blank. When they realized how close Ol’oih’s escape pod, what they thought was a meteorite, had landed, they’d abandoned all observation on the other chunks that broke from the main body. If he thought about the trajectory of where the main body was going, it was possible for them to maybe find out what happened to one of the pieces.

On the other hand, it was equally as possible th-.

“What did he ask?” Jax’s voice made Cliff jump. He’d been so focused trying to solve the question and the issues it presented that he completely forgot about keeping his friend in the loop. He looked down into the crate and saw Ol’oih’s hopeful features gazing back at him while Jax’s face held minor annoyance that he had to wait for Cliff to translate since he was the only one with a direct line of communication to the alien.

“I… sorry. He wanted to know if we knew what happened to the rest of the crew. I’m guessing the thing we saw falling from the sky last night was the main ship, and he wants to know if we know anything about the others,” stated Cliff. He looked down at Ol’oih and swallowed the dryness forming in his throat. “How many others were a part of your crew?”

“There are seven of us total,” Ol’oih pathed, not hesitating when being asked. He felt like he could trust these two, at least at the moment, and he needed to know anything and everything he could before planning his next move. “There is Captain Immott Imai, second-in-command Adda Noz’ex, medical officer Scix’en Trok, our two technical specialists Arcal Kor and Valaih Du’uhl, and then cultural specialist Q’crul Kaelis. Also, as stated before, I am the linguistic specialist. I was meant to be a translator and dialogue analyzer on our information gathering mission.”

The names came so quickly from their six-inch-tall alien companion that Cliff had no hope of trying to memorize or pronounce any of the names correctly. He doubted he could even list one of the names at the moment and instead continuing to listen as Ol’oih continued “pathing” to him.

“We were in orbit and descending in our ship to harness clearer readings when something happened aboard our ship. I do not know if it was an electrical issue or if we were struck, but whatever the case we began entering the atmosphere and had to abandon ship,” Ol’oih pathed as he felt a wave of sadness sweep over him.

I don’t even know if they’re alive. Best case scenario, they managed to rendezvous with the observation team here on the ground and are trying to track either my pod or my suit. Worst case scenario… they’ve been found.

Ol’oih remembered hearing stories and reading books written about the human race, and much of the literature read like a horror story. Capture. Torture. Containment. Uncooperativeness. Destruction. Granted, in those stories the alien race was often the aggressor, but Ol’oih’s people were different.

We’re Stren, not some warring race like the Off’el. We wouldn’t hurt them. It’s why we’re here – to gather information to see if they’re ready for true first contact. Are humans more like us? Or like the Off’el?

“Um… Ol’oih?” He looked up and could read it in the boys’ faces. Though nonverbal communication was limited from their various intercepted transmissions, the miniscule alien could tell that the information they boys had was going to be minimal and disappointing.

Amazing how much I can read just in their faces. It’s like my ciferi. Interesting.

“Yes?” Ol’oih pathed, making sure to speak with intention rather than let his internal thoughts mingle with what he wanted Clifford and Jaxson to hear.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t know what happened to your crewmates,” stated Cliff with a disappointed shake of his head. “We saw the big piece go by and probably crash north of us, but not any of the other fragments. That’s all we know. If anyone else was watching the sky last night, they’d probably be all over the area by now looking for meteorite fragments and maybe finding pieces of your ship.”

“And that’s if a hobbyist got to the pieces first. You know how close we are to Area 51? We’d be lucky if a hobbyist found what was left of your ship. If the government or other organization got to it first, there’s no way we’d find out wha-” Jax was cut off by a stern glare from Cliff, which Ol’oih immediately picked up.

“Wait. What was that? Please! Do not be dishonest with me now. Why did you cut Jaxson off? What is Area 51? And your… government? That is your elected republic officials, yes? Do they… know about us? About life beyond your orbit? Please! Clifford! Jaxson!” Ol’oih pathed. He could hear the desperation in his tone and hoped Cliff would understand how distraught he was.

And Cliff did.

He didn’t mean to shut down his best friend, but he was hoping to give the information a little at a time to not scare the alien. The last thing Cliff wanted was for the little guy to go rogue or hostile, especially while he was physically attached to the alien’s tail-like appendage. The fluctuating gradation of colors rippling over Ol’oih’s skin told Cliff that the alien was feeling distress and uncertainty, and rightfully so.

“Clifford? If you know something, I urge you to share it. Please! If my crew – my friends – are in danger, I need to try and help them. C-can you ask Jaxson to… to… explain? O-or you could! Please!” Ol’oih pathed again, boldly taking a step toward the boy’s hand and laying his palms against the base of the boy’s index finger.

Cliff hated he and his friend had contributed to it, but there was no changing it now. Cliff sighed and exchanged a look with Jax, who had obviously picked up on the fact that he’d shared a bit too much too fast based on the sheepishly guilty look on his face.

“He… wants you to explain.” Cliff gave a nod to his friend and, understanding his meaning, Jax jumped into the conversation. This time, however, Jax was obviously being a bit more precise with his words. He had just began talking as if it were just him and Cliff. It hadn’t occurred to him in that exact moment that the alien wouldn’t know about the conspiracies and rumors about what Jax was referring to.

“I… sorry. I didn’t want to scare you or anything,” apologized Jax. “It’s just… there’s a lot of weird stuff that happens. Um… do you know what a conspiracy is?”

“Conspiracy? No. Define, please,” pathed Ol’oih. He continued to take long, deep breaths to keep his body from thrumming nervously to the point where he might panic or shut down entirely.

“He doesn’t know what it means,” translated Cliff.

“Oh, um… well… a conspiracy is technically defined as a ‘secret plan by a group to do something unlawful or harmful;’ however, people… that is, us humans, sometimes use the word conspiracy when referring to something that may or may not be true because we don’t have enough evidence to back it up. There is supposed ‘evidence,’ but sometimes it comes from an unreliable source. Make sense?” asked Jax.

When Cliff shook his head, obviously translating for Ol’oih, Jax continued.

“Um… okay. Here’s an example. Some people don’t think that humans landed on the moon. Even though there are pictures and stories and all sorts of other pieces of ‘evidence,’ some people think it is a conspiracy – a lie – to cover up the truth that we never set foot on the moon. We say it’s a conspiracy because the people who are telling us that we landed on the moon are secretive and part of a larger organization that may or may not have an agenda.” Jax felt like he didn’t explain everything well, but Ol’oih seemed to be understanding because he looked back to Cliff and then back to him as Cliff translated once more.

“So, tell him about Area 51.”

“Right, so. Area 51 is a military base owned by the government. A lot of people, myself and Cliff included, think that Area 51 is a place where our government hides the existence of aliens from us. There have been countless stories and sightings of ships, in theory, but nothing has been confirmed officially. There are countless conspiracies that there’s UFO testing and alien research that goes on there, but no one really knows because everything there is classified as top secret and no one who works there will talk about what they actually do.

“Now, we actually live not too far away from Area 51, this top secret testing facility, which is what worries me because if we saw your ship, other people who work there might also have seen it and are investigating it right now. I was saying if we were lucky that others, like Cliff and I, might’ve gotten to the crash sites first and might be helping you and your crew; and that if we are unlucky, the people who work there might’ve gotten to the wreck sites first.

“Sorry… I… I’m sorry. I should’ve thought before blurting out stuff like that. I really hope your crew is okay,” said Jax as guilt constricted his chest. He was so used to talking openly with his friend about these kinds of things that it wasn’t even a second thought for him to think about what this information could mean to Ol’oih who, after hearing this, immediately felt faint.

Head swirling and body taking over, his legs buckled and he fell backwards completely limp. Thankfully, Cliff and Jax had both reached forward and caught him before he hit the hard ground. It only lasted a few seconds, but blackout was enough for Ol’oih to realize how dire his situation really was.

They’re not like us. How could we have missed this? Years of observation and we missed this? We knew about their wars and crimes against one another, and we’ve had our struggles too, but to know they’re more like Off’el?

Ol’oih had to know if his crewmates were okay. They had to be! Forcing control back over himself, Ol’oih pushed himself against the boys’ hands until he was upright and waited for the nausea to subside before daring to path back to Cliff again. There was one way he could tell if they were alright or not, but he couldn’t do it alone.

“Clifford, please. I need your help. I need to know if my crewmates are okay.” Images of his friends flashed before his eyes, and he intentionally allowed those images to path to the human boy. Simple things. Them eating meals together. Studying as a group. Leaning back in their pods as they started their expedition here to Earth.

“Woah… Did you just?” Cliff could have sworn that, as he blinked, some of Ol’oih’s memories flashed before his eyes like photo negatives from an old film camera. “Never mind. What can we do?”

“My escape pod. I need it. Please. It possesses equipment to locate their transponders. Also, a current map of our location, specifically that area Jaxson was referring to,” pathed Ol’oih. He knew he must sound overbearing at the moment, but that didn’t matter. What he needed was out of reach and this was the only way he could have peace of mind.

The alternative was far too distressing to consider so soon after he’d managed to find solace in these human allies who had found him.

“Y-yeah. Definitely. Um… Jax, would you grab Ol’oih’s escape pod? He says he’ll be able to find his crewmates with the tech he’s got on it,” said Cliff.

“Sure thing.” Jax carefully tilted his hand so Ol’oih was sitting entirely on Cliff’s fingers while he ran over and grabbed the pod from its hiding place.

“Ol’oih, it’s going to be okay,” Cliff reassured. “We’ll find them.”

I hope so, but what state will they be in when they’re found? Ol’oih wondered silently to himself.

Jax finally managed to pull out the escape pod and carefully set it down in the middle of Cliff’s bedroom. Both boys exchanged an awkward glance, knowing the pod wouldn’t fit inside of the crate comfortably. They knew they needed to bring Ol’oih to the pod, which meant picking him up. Feeling the urgency, Cliff decided to bite the bullet and addressed the issue head on.

“Um… Ol’oih? Is it okay if I… pick you up?” asked Cliff.

“Pick me up? What?” pathed Ol’oih.

“The pod won’t fit directly into this crate here, so we can either tilt the whole thing after pulling out the dishes and stuff, or I can just lift you out really quick and set you over there by your escape pod,” explained Cliff.

If he was being honest with himself, Ol’oih didn’t like the idea of being held. Some of the other beings his people interacted with on a daily basis were as large as humans and, as part of training, they had to simulate being held or carried in a plethora of positions.

Still, it made him uncomfortable.

His comfort, however, wasn’t the primary concern.

His entire body now almost completely consisting of yellow and gray hues, he pathed back, “That is fine, though I would prefer crouching to being encased.”

“Fair enough,” agreed Cliff. He gingerly slid his hand under Ol’oih’s feet while keeping his left hand nearby for stability and because Ol’oih’s tail, or “addon” as he called it, was still firmly imbedded into his flesh. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

Cliff inhaled a steadying breath as he lifted Ol’oih’s entire body up off of the ground. The little six inch tall alien was lighter than expected, and his balance was a bit unstable. Cliff guessed it was because his tail probably acted as a counterbalance when on unsteady surfaces, like that of a cat, and that he couldn’t use it at the moment and instead resorted to gripping onto Cliff’s fingers for dear life. It was fascinating to feel all four fingers on each hand grasp individually onto the ridges of his fingers, but Cliff would revel in the interaction later.

The moment the back of his hand was resting on the ground, Ol’oih rushed over to his ship and climbed inside, partially jerking Cliff forward since he hadn’t disconnected his tail.

In the pod, Ol’oih crouched and began typing as fast as possible any and all commands to ping the members of his crew. The lights flickered for a moment, making his heart sink, before glowing dimly. The image was a bit distorted, but the module was ready to receive instructions, and that’s exactly what he intended to do with it.

If they’re relatively close, I should be able to signal their transponders. It’ll let them know I’m pinging them.

The signal went out and Ol’oih held his breath as the screen dimmed and crackled. His thrumming body was making every part of him shake in anticipation. It was unnerving. Every element of training had prepared him for the worst case scenario, but living it was an entirely different matter.

Please… please Ove… let them be alive and unhar-…

Through the distortion on the yellowed, flickering screen, thirteen dots appeared. Ol’oih couldn’t believe his eyes. Not only were the dots clearly visible, but they were also clustered together and, if his readings were correct, not too far away.

The real question was whether or not they were in this infamous “Area 51.”

“Clifford. Do you have the map? And could you or Jaxson mark Area 51 on it?” Ol’oih pathed, looking eagerly up at the two boys.

“Got it,” said Jaxson, as if he already knew what the miniscule alien was asking for by a simple look. In his hands, he held the tablet down so that Ol’oih could better see the screen. His eyes flicked from the instruments in his pod and then back to the screen in Jaxson’s hands.

Both human boys held their breath as they waited for some kind of indication. Neither wanted to be the first to break the silence. The air around them was saturated in anxiety so tangible it could be cut with a knife.

Then, they saw it happen.

Ol’oih’s shoulders slumped and his head hung low.

No… are we… too late? Cliff wondered.

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Previous

Beginning

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

@gianttol #gtjuly #gtjuly2024

[kaelispurple]

Heyy guys! This is my first post on tumblr, and I wanted it to be an Introduction to my Rainworld OC, I've just started playing Rainworld 2 days ago as I've finally got the money, and I've been hooked ever since. Im still getting used to drawing Slugcats so my Artstyle for them may be a little wonky..

Her name is Kaelis, Unfortunately she's an orphan... And she's deathly afraid of Lizards, Especially the Green ones because of it.. A pack of them were the ones that took out her entire family.

I'll be posting more art of this lil orphan baby soon enough, I am busy with some other things so It depends on how sooner I can finish them for me to post more art!

Also, the second image is from sickassalien on Twitter incase ya want the original image.

[in-a-mountain-pool]

The Dragon Boy - Chapter One

Aemond x Fem!Dragonseed OC Kaelys Waters

pronouns: She/her (afab)

rating: Teen and Up Audiences

warnings: Angst, Romance, Major Character Death

word count: ~3600+

summary: Chaos unfolds after the battle at the Gods Eye. After his defeat, Prince Aemond Targaryen is declared dead, laying at the bottom of the great lake. Upon hearing the news, Kaelys Waters, a Dragonseed from Aemond’s past defects from the Blacks, and stumbles upon a mysterious enigmatic dragon with a broken wing. Tending to its wounds and reminiscing of her childhood infatuation, she mourns the passing of the Prince Regent. Love deepens amid a whirlwind of emotions, culminating in a heart-warming tale of love transcending magic and curses, uniting two souls against all odds.

Originally posted on AO3

A/N: Hi everyone! Here it is, this is my submission for @hotd-bigbang! I'd like to give a huge thank you to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for putting together this wonderful event, and for being so understanding of my chaotic writing process! It was an absolute pleasure getting to work with @cyeco13 , who has produced some of the most gorgeous artwork for this story (I literally teared up opening her messages!), thank you so much for capturing Aemond and Kaelys so perfectly.

Thanks for reading! To begin with, this was intended to be a one-shot but due to some circumstances beyond my control, I have decided to break it up into two chapters. Chapter two will be posted this time next week!

As always likes, reblogs and comments are not a requirement, but lovely to come online to.

The nights were cold in the Dragonpit, without the loving embrace of a mother or a father to shield you from the harsh land of Westeros, where frigid winds would pierce through like icy daggers. You had been there as long as you could remember, your earliest memories buried under years of neglect, left outside the pit in nothing but a tattered moth-eaten shawl. In a twist of fate, the Dragonkeepers had taken you under their wing, the first girl in history to be welcomed into the ancient order of guards. 

You, a nameless orphan, were christened Kaelys, and raised as their own. But life had been hard and food scarce. Amidst crumbling stones of the pit, life was a relentless test of your mettle, a crucible of endurance. As the only girl, the other boys of the order would revel in their power and torment you relentlessly. They were the bane of your life, their taunts and physical assaults a painful reminder of the harsh realities that defined your existence.

In the dead of night, when the hunger had finally become unbearable, on stumbling feet you’d crept into the Red Keep, hugging the stone walls, searching for a scrap of whatever you could find. Within the fortress, an eerie stillness reigned supreme, a collective hush falling over the walls as if a great secret dwelled inside. Company was sparse this late at night, save for the sporadic appearance of a Goldcloak on patrol. During your tutelage you had mastered the art of silence, moving with a grace so profound that even the most vigilant of men might mistake you for a shadow in the night. You’d had to, growing up around the majestic and terrible beasts of the House Targaryen.

The only light you had seen in the imposing halls had been a small crack under a great set of wooden doors and the smell of old parchment. Curiosity got the better of you, and you gently pushed forward to take a peek…

Inside was a small boy with silver hair, a boy you recognised… 

It was him.

The boy without a dragon. 

Prince Aemond Targaryen. 

When the door creaked your heart froze as the child whipped his head around with an almost otherworldly reflex. 

Aemond stared at you for a moment, his head tilted over slightly to the side. The boy's violet eyes held a quiet curiosity, gazing at you in the same manner you’d seen him study the dragons inside the pit. 

In a small yet commanding voice, he called out to you, standing up slowly from his solar. 

“... Who goes there…? What might your name be, girl?”

Not a word left your lips, your face panic-stricken and pale as the moonlight creeping through the bay windows of the library. 

A quiet but exasperated huff left his cat-like mouth, and a look of dissatisfaction decorated his delicate features. 

“That’s not very polite, is it? You should at least tell me your name. I promise, I won’t tell on you.”

Aemond attempted to make eye contact with you to no avail, met with a wall of silence. A soft scowl fell over his face, like he’d perhaps thought something might be wrong with you. Or like you were a puzzle that he wished to solve. 

Finding your courage you shifted out of the shadows, eyes searching the halls around you for the slightest movement in the dark. 

“... Kaelys, My Prince. ‘My name is Kaelys.” You croak out in a pathetic tone, giving a rather poor curtsey, copying the movements you’d seen his sister, the Princess Helaena practice to the knights at the tourney months earlier. 

You wobble slightly as you ascend from the floor, the scrap of your dress hem catching under your sandaled foot. 

The boy smiled and chuckled before you, nodding with a little grin like he’d finally made some progress. His curiosities were still present as he beckoned you into the warm library and eagerly offered you a seat beside him. 

“Well, good evening, Kaelys. … Why, if I might ask, are you here in the Keep, all alone?” Aemond whispered, leaning forward to inspect you.

“... ‘was hungry, my Prince. P-please, don’t call the guards. I’ll leave quietly. Quiet as a mouse! ‘Won’t even know I was ‘ere!” You uttered fearfully, your hazel eyes locked to his, begging him silently.

Lilac eyes widened and peered into yours once more. 

“Hungry…?” Aemond asked, like such a thing was unthinkable to him, brought up amongst such riches. After a moment, his eyes fluttered and his bottom lip trembled.

“I won’t call anyone. No Guards. C-Come with me.” Aemond extended a pale shaking hand to you, waiting for you to take it. 

“T-The kitchens should have some supper for you. I’d certainly be more comfortable with you not being out here… all alone in these halls.” 

“Kitchens?! I- can’t! If I’m seen there I’ll get the lashing of a lifetime!” You whispered frantically, staring down at the boy’s hand, elegant fingers reaching out to you. 

How could you touch him? It felt wrong when you were so grubby and dirty, to mar something so fair and beautiful as him, like you might leave an immovable stain on his perfect skin.

The words tumbled out in a way most unnatural to you. What was it about this boy, a Prince no less, that made you feel you could trust him? You seldom ever spoke, not even to your mentors. You had only ever felt safe with your dragons. 

“T'aint proper. The Dragonkeepers stay in the pit. We eat in the pit. Sleep in the pit. I’m… not a Lady. Not Royalty.” You mumble, gesturing to him and looking down at his velvet boots next to your dirty feet, remembering your place. 

Not once did he ever lower his hand, almost as if he was trying to tame you like a wild animal, like one of his family’s dragons in the pit. He approached you with caution, but with an unmistakable respect and patience that made your heart anxious. 

“Kaelys…? Do you have any place to rest your head at night?” Aemond questioned you in a gentle tone, peering into your tired eyes. “Does someone look after you?” 

“Mother and Father are dead. Left me outside the Keep. Dragonkeepers feed me, but… we’re often hungry.” 

Aemond seemed stunned into silence. The realisation that the tiny girl in front of him, of no more than 12 years, was alone. Truly alone. The longer he was silent, the more uncomfortable he became. The thought that a girl, so young and vulnerable, had already lost everything she’d ever had or could ever hope to own. She’d never really had a chance, and it just wasn't right.

The boy straightened up and stood taller, a determined resolute look in his pointed features. 

“You’re coming with me. And before you say another word, I’m not going to tell on you. In fact, I won’t tell anyone. Not a soul.” His tone had changed, much softer and caring than it had been moments before.

You had heard stories about the young prince. He was lonely, and studious, the polar opposite of his raucous brother, Aegon. Perhaps he had just wanted a friend? Underneath the silver hair and the riches of his house, he was a lanky sort of boy, on the cusp of something greater than himself. So unsure, and so desperate to connect. 

Ever so cautiously, you reached out to take his hand in yours. Next to him, your hand looked so careworn and grubby, unworthy. He saw the dirt under your fingernails, and the weeks of grime on your dress, yet he never faltered in his grip as he discreetly led you deeper into the Keep along lonely corridors to his chambers. 

Once inside you couldn’t believe your eyes. You’d never seen such grandeur, the table filled with foods from all over Westeros, and all for the supper of one boy. There were meats piled high, roasted beef and potatoes, boiled vegetables and breads. Decadent sweets glistened in the candlelight, with mounds of delicate lemoncakes, sugared biscuits and candied fruits.

His room was filled with treasures and trinkets from all over Westeros and Essos. A dothraki sword adorned the wall above his bed, and a coin collection was scattered across his bed, with gold, silver and coppers of all shapes and sizes dotted about like stars upon his midnight blue blankets. Large shells almost as big as your head decorated a large desk near the balcony desk. You’d later discover they had been taken from a bay in Volantis by his Father, and he’d been drawing them in a notepad. Marble carved dragons were placed in order of size along his mantle, with random shards of dragon glass decorating his chaotic but organised desk. But best of all was a worn plush of Balerion the Black Dread, shoved underneath his pillow, sewn by his wet nurse when he was a child.

As Aemond stepped inside, he reluctantly set down your hand, keeping a gentle eye on your expression. Your eyes were wide with wonder taking in the lavish food he readily offered you like it was nothing.

“... D-Don’t worry, Kaelys. That food is mine, mine to give you. Made by the finest cooks in the Keep.” Stumbling a little, he stepped behind you, and it took you a moment to realise that he intended to pull a chair for you to sit on. 

Almost like he would a real Lady. 

“Here. We- we can eat together, if you like? Like friends do.” 

Slowly he started to make up a generous plate for you, with a selection of meats and vegetables to give you back your strength. With a shaking hand, he placed it in front of you, nodding and digging into his own.

Through a mouthful of food you finally start to speak once more, stealing timid glances at the young Prince.. 

“... Friends? D- Do you have many friends… that you play with?”

A heavy silence fell upon the room as the boy drew into himself for a long while, the only noises the clatter of silverware and the late drafts of the night. Aemond spoke in a careful manner as to try to not let his feelings betray him. His voice began to break and the awkwardness began to seep out of him, reminding you he was just an adolescent boy, with the weight of a dynasty upon his shoulders.

“No… I rather suppose I don’t. In truth, It is… hard for me to make them.”

You felt a deep need to reach out and support him, or to at least make him feel less alone, the boy who’d let you into his world. 

“Me too. I don't have any friends neither.” You whisper, brushing the pad of your index finger against the back of his hand… And then rather unexpectedly, Aemond laughed, making you retreat once more.

“Either… You don't have any friends, either.” He chuckled again, covering his cat-like smirk with his fingers. 

Sensing your displeasure and discomfort he gave you a soft look and pushed a lemon cake towards your plate, resting his chin on his hand as he studied you. He watched you for a while, as you picked at the crystallised peel in awe, giggling when your face puckered at the foreign sour sensation of the citrus in your cheeks. 

Your eyes danced around the room as you ate, falling upon the small collection of little wooden knights left haphazardly before the roaring fire. You didn’t have any toys. You hadn’t ever been allowed to be a child.

“Would you- would you like to play with them? I can teach you all about my knights!”

Aemond's face lit up with unabashed excitement, youthful enthusiasm radiating from his every pore as he eagerly settled onto the floor beside the knights. In that moment, his age became evident in the meticulous grace with which he handled the toys, delicately extending them towards her, all the while tenderly bestowing each with a name. The boy spoke passionately, more animatedly than she had ever seen him in the dragon pit. 

“This here is Aegon the Conqueror. Do you see? Each knight has their own dragon, and they ride together into war.” 

As Aemond rambled on passionately , you couldn't help but find yourself joining him there in the warmth of the fire, legs crossed and shyly tracing the beautiful handmade figurines like they were made of glass. 

“... She is beautiful. The big one.” You gesture bashfully, a rare smile gracing your face as he offers you the wooden toy. “... Vhagar.”

Aemond’s eyes widened, aglow with an innocence and wonder only a child’s eyes could muster.

“Yes! You know of Vhagar? And do you know why she is so special? 

“She’s the oldest dragon in the whole world.” You say almost instantly, staring at the wooden dragon in admiration. “She was Queen Visenya’s dragon.”

Aemond’s eyes flickered with a glimmer of surprise, as if your knowledge of Vhagar had caught him off-guard. 

“Yes, she was!” He admitted, his words imbued with a quiet reverence. “She still soars above our world to this day, a testament to her indomitable spirit. And, you know, one day, I’m going to be the one to mount her and take to the skies.”

Aemond'sAemonds gaze fixed on you, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, as if he had entrusted you with a treasure trove of secrets known only to a select few. 

“... Do you want to know another secret?” The boy asked with a small grin on his face, handing you yet another dragon.

Aemond drew in a deep breath, and his face lit up with a soft blush as he spoke the next words.

"I have a special wish, you know," he confided, his eyes locked onto Kaelys, eager to gauge her response. A hint of uncertainty lingered in his gaze, but his sincerity shone through. 

"I want more than just a dragon, Kaelys. I want you to be my best friend."

And with that declaration, a unique bond was sealed. From that day forward, together you had embarked on clandestine adventures within the labyrinthine walls of the Red Keep, where you uncovered hidden nooks to play and whisper secrets to one another. Conversations had spanned countless hours, a symphony of dragon tales, and epic tales of knights and princesses that seemed to breathe life into the ancient stones of the castle and the dragon pit.

In each other, you had found your first and only true friends, kindred spirits divided by society. And when he’d finally claimed Vhagar, she had become your whole life, bringing you both even closer together. 

He’d shown you what it meant to have a family.

… But if only you had known then, the horrors that would soon come to pass, dressed in colours of green, gold and black.

War had come to Westeros.

It had felt like the end of days, a tragedy painted with vicious strokes of fire and blood. The very ground beneath your feet had shaken, the winds had howled as dragons danced above the skies of the Riverlands in violent flashes of greens and reds, and clashes of razor sharp teeth. Brothers and sisters rode into war for a cause that no longer made sense, as kin marched upon kin, and dragons raged against dragons. History was dying, old magic was fading, all because one man, one King, had made a choice born from love. 

But how could love ever endure in a world such as this? How could you fight for a Queen who ordered the death of an innocent child? Or a King that paraded the head of such a gracious beast as Meleys through the streets of Flea Bottom? How could hope live on here at the end of all things, where flames paint the skies, and babes were torn from their mother's arms? 

… Helaena’s arms. 

Since you’d heard the news from the other Dragonseeds’ on the battlefield you wouldn’t dare speak his name out loud. Bile would rise in your throat at the mere mention of him, the One-Eyed Prince, the Kinslayer, all of these names they’d given him, to the boy with violet eyes who’d captured your heart all those years ago.

He had met with his Uncle, your Mentor, above the God’s Eye only a week before. The village folk spoke of a fierce battle, with dragonfire so hot and so ferocious it was like the sky itself had been set aflame, and the Doom of Valyria had raged once more. The two beautiful beasts were said to have torn each other apart, Caraxes the Blood Wyrm sinking her teeth into Vhagar’s neck, before being disembowelled and crashing into the great lake below.

He, had always been so careful, even as a child, it was no wonder he’d chained himself so securely to the saddle. Daemon had known this and used it to his advantage. It had been you who had told Daemon so, you who had taught him how to tie the chains to keep him safe. Neither man nor dragon could have survived such a fall. Even a Targaryen Prince.

And now he was gone, it had felt like you might as well have drowned with him there in the God’s Eye. When your tears had fallen, you had insisted you had cried for Daemon, though the others who truly knew you had known better. 

The smell of the summer flowers in the Godswood had filled your dreams, the sounds of children’s laughter, the warmth of his hand in yours. Braiding hair as white as snow, the flash of lilac in the candlelight of the Red Keep at night. Since you’d departed for Harenhal as a Dragonseed of the Black’s, you’d carried a piece of him in the pocket of your riding jacket, a small wooden carving of Vhagar he’d had made just for you. Every night you’d gripped it tight and wept for the loss of her… and her rider. 

For you, the war was over. There was nothing left to fight for. 

No one left to protect.

Under the moonlit sky, you rode through the darkness, leaving behind the tumultuous Black's encampment. The biting cold couldn't compare to the numbness that gripped your heart. The horse beneath you felt unfamiliar, its warmth offering no solace compared to the fiery passion and adventure that once accompanied your dragon, Bhaesys.

The battlefield had claimed her, just as it had claimed Vhagar and him. 

Daemon, the architect of destruction, had torn apart not only your dragon but also your life, leaving the House of the Dragon in ruins and the land scarred with suffering.

With no clear destination in mind, you rode relentlessly for nearly a month, only to find yourself at the God's Eye. The vast expanse of tranquil waters reflected the sun's rays, masking the grim reality that all was not well in the world. Despite its majestic appearance, the God's Eye was a tomb, a silent witness to the ravages of war.

It became evident that you couldn't bear the weight any longer—the months of conflict, the years of hardship and camaraderie. Your love for him hit you with an intensity that felt like a physical blow to the gut. 

He was gone, forever. 

The memories flooded your mind—the sound of his voice, the echoes of laughter in the Red Keep's libraries, the sparkle in his violet eyes as you soared through the skies together.

Violent screams, unrecognisable even to yourself, reverberated across the still lake. Tears streamed down your face as you collapsed to your knees at the water's edge. Nettle's words echoed like a death knell, the cruel truth seeping into your soul: 

"They couldn't retrieve a body." 

He would never receive the burial befitting his noble lineage, never rest in the Great Sept with his ancestors.

Clutching the small wooden carving of Vhagar, you gripped it so tightly that it pierced your skin. Anything to distract from the sharp, agonising emptiness in your chest. The God's Eye, once a place of beauty, now mirrored the desolation within you—a stark reminder of the irreparable loss that had befallen your world.

It was night before you could wretch yourself away from the water’s edge, taking refuge in a large cave in the woods nearby, overlooking the Isle of Faces. Stepping into its deep interior, you were met with a pervasive dampness and bitter cold that clung to the air, accompanied by a low, wispy draft that whispered tales of undiscovered mysteries, cautioning against the disturbance of ancient stones better left untouched.

Guided by an inexplicable force that seemed to emanate from the recesses of your very heart, your feet carried you further into the cavern's depths. The very essence of the cave resonated with age and magic, invoking echoes of legends that spoke of the Children of the Forest and ancient tales of the First Men that had woven themselves into the fabric of these lands.

As you delved deeper, the surroundings cloaked you in an intensifying darkness, each step marked by the crumbling of wet gravel beneath your feet. Until suddenly, a strange warmth in the air began to prickle at your skin, humid and dank in a way that clung to you. 

This was no ordinary hollow. 

The pervading silence, almost otherworldly in its nature, gave way to an unsettling deep rumbling that resonated through the core of the earth beneath your feet. Turning a corner, the growling intensified, growing deeper and louder until a sudden realisation dawned upon you - a recognition etched in the core of your being.

The feeling was unmistakable, a sensation so familiar to you from a lifetime spent in the depths of the Dragon Pit.

Awe and trepidation mingled as the truth unfolded…

You stood in the majestic presence of a dragon. 

[dlcallie]

Yknow considering the fact my drifter was originally in a relationship with Kaelli Entrati in my mind (upon hearing casual by Chappell Roan i have made it more like Kaeli is keeping this info from her family afraid of what they would think but drifter wanting to be out in the open[i know this is highly unlikely but i like the drama ]) this new update is really funny to me. Cus i know for a fact it would send my drifter into a bi panic upon seeing the hex.

And Its also funny to think about Albrecht grabbing her by the shoulders being like did you fuck my granddaughter Drifter

[sylvianasart]

Been doing some lore stuff for my custom craftworld. Poking around Aeldari symbols and a bit of language. So allow me to introduce:

Ra Shelwe

"Ra Shelwe" is supposed to mean something along the lines of "Song of Soul/Light" in a kind of lamentation way. Very dramatic. Wiki told me "Shelwe" means "Song of". "Ra" was just pulled from Maugan Ra and Kaelis Ra, referring to "Harvester of Souls" and "Destroyer of Light"; and, without any more info, I assumed it meant light/soul as similar meaning (like a persons "inner light"). Though honestly that could refer to the Destroyer/Harvester pairing instead. Ehh, afaik there isn't any canon on the meaning of many Eldar words, if someone tells me otherwise I can always change my mind xD.

Symbols were referenced from Andrew Hick's collected Eldar stuff. The main insignia for the craftworld is made from a variation of the "soulstone" symbol using some wraithguard fins (? terminology?), and a tear of Isha. 'Cause dramatic eldar. The background symbol is "Salvation". Again, full of drama.

Overall the banner idea and layout was based on some inspiration from some craftworld banners my image search turned up, that apparently came from MirageKnight32 on DA. They're pretty cool, go check them out.

Anyway, lore-wise, Ra Shelwe are a reclusive and don't get involved much in the galaxy (I've only managed to field them in like 5 kill team games, and 1 larger game, in the last 4 years). They made some beeeg unspecified mistakes in the years immediately following the birth of she who thirsts, which has left them few in number, wraith focussed, and FULL of angsty guilt. (If I remember this population make-up is kinda similar to Iyanden? Kinda similar colour scheme too really. Hence why I originally put Iyanden's insignia on my Dire Avenger's flag though.)

Now to hate myself as I try to paint this onto every vehicle and banner. Can't use those standard eldar transfers anymore :D

[violentdesires]

@wickedlvly \ DE' MEDICI , violet .

HER FIRST INSTINCT is to laugh , to question violet's sobriety or tease that she must be having delusions of grandeur - - - - but no such thing falls from her lips . the unseelie princess runs a hand through her hair instead ( an attempt to collect herself and process the information that was just shared with her ) . there are not a lot of people that she trusts , but her friend has become one of them . there is no point in lying about this either and besides ... kaelie can feel the power that radiates from her now , something that could not be sensed before . still , it is not easy to wrap her head around the fact that violet is , well , not just violet . it takes a couple of breaths before she feels ready to talk , head tilting to the side . ❛ so i am no longer the bad bitch in this equation ? fantastic . ❜ her lips pucker into a pout as she studies violet . ❛ i liked you being the baby vampire , but oh well . at least we know why you happen to be sexy enough that even i would hit on you , right ? ❜ using teasing as a coping mechanism might not be very original , but it keeps her somewhat sane . ❛ oh my god . ❜ she exclaims once she realizes that she is being kind of selfish . this is not just about their friendship . it's about her friend . ❛ okay . can we just ignore everything i said ? how are you ? are you ... processing this any better than i do ? ❜

[kaelidascope]

On one hand, I'm relieved to see that it isn't just me suffering in the engagement department whereas I used to get flooded with comments and the like every time I dropped something. It isn't the only reason why I've moved from fanfic work to original work, but it is part of it. The last round of engagement on the latest MM chapter was abysmal, and while I know it's not a reflection of my quality in writing, I kept beating myself up over the possibility that I took too long to update it and people gave up on it/forgot/fell out of love with my work because I as a creator was not performing good enough. It drove me into a bit of a depression for a while.

On the other hand, this is making me rethink my stance on never telling my favorite authors how much they have inspired me to take off with my writing career. This is going to get a little lengthy but I want to talk about it so bear with me here.

Closed circles know how much of an insane, unhinged fan I am of certain writers, yet I have never actually said a word to them. I think I left one comment on maybe two fics that went unanswered (which is fine. They're not active in the fandoms I'm in anymore and I'm just some guy out of probably hundreds all saying the same thing. They're not gonna reply to me) but apart from that, you wouldn't catch me dead actually admitting how much the works mean to me. But why?

I guess I was far too proud and too terrified of being let down if I exposed myself like that. Despite the fact that these authors were literal catalysts for borderline impossible feats I have done within the last year, WELL RECEIVED FEATS at that, I swore I'd never tell anyone how inspiring they were for me. (Unless a casual friendship has been established. I have had the tremendous honor to able to talk to some of my inspirations one on one but under incredibly lucky circumstances)

I had a scenario in my head that these were the cool kids, and if you ever got picked on at all for admiring anything, you know damn well you never tell the cool kids about your admiration. I was afraid that they'd take one look at the work that was inspired by theirs and laugh at it in their enclosed circles. I wasn't going to risk having my confidence crushed and lose the motivation to continue working on my projects by being a fan.

I know not all authors do this. Every time someone comes to me and tells me I've inspired them to be a better writer, I literally frame it in a collection of screenshots I have saved on a hard drive. Every. Single. Time. And I know anyone else would tell me that if the person I admire would actually be cruel enough to mock an up and coming writer, then they're not worth admiring. Which I agree with! But try telling that to sensitive little Kaeli that safeguards their interests with the fiery defensiveness of a feral bear on cocaine.

But then I see posts like this, and I put myself in their shoes. I don't know them. They could be a jackass but they could also be like me - someone who bases a lot of motivation for project completion based off of whether or not people even care to see it completed.

This is all a very long, round about away to say that who cares if the author you build a mini-shrine for in your brain thinks your cringe for liking their work? Odds are they probably need to hear that you liked it so much, it inspired you to do something with that feeling. We all need to hear it. They inspired you and now you're making something that will inspire someone else. To be a creator is to share that passion everywhere you go. There's nothing cringe about it.

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[teefa85]

So now that we've finished the Mochi Mayhem Event, it's time to talk about the Paldean Legendaries in the Muse Universe. No, not gonna update all the old posts since I'm lazy...y'all just get a once a generation Legendary Update post any DLC...

Ogerpon, the "Loyal" Three, and Pecharunt are all from Crystaland. Pecharunt probably came about due to some corruption in the Crystals effecting a peach, thus the Poison Type (having a world of full magic with Pokemon can explain so much). It then empowered and enslaved other Pokemon to create its retainers. However, they broke free of its control after the Crystals were purified and all went off to other parts of the Region.

Meanwhile, Ogerpon was a shy lil' creature that just lived near Foresta. Still debating having a cute friendship between her and Kaeli.

-

On the other front, we've got Terapagos. Which was recently summoned as of this writing (Jan 2024) and its origins before that are unknown. Scientists in Northland were trying to make portals to other dimensions and accidentally got this. Escaped and ended up in the derelict Karloon Shrine. But its power is slowly leaking out and in July there will be a huge explosion of power to coincide with ANOTHER experiment which creates a series of underground tunnels of crystal. Which will begin allowing Terestalization in my muses' world.

The experiment that is going to go wrong in July will also bring forth all of the Paradoxes. One past and one future in each region, with them holing up in specific areas. Do note that the Paradox Swords and Paradox Beasts count as "one" for this case as I could not separate them, though both groups are not in the same region. The underground caves also house a ton of them, and a bunch were spit out in the island where my muses' Warrior Academy was on.

In fact, when this happens, they're going to be at an aluni event with their kids (most of whom are in school already) and many of the children go on an adventure with various Paradoxes.

The list... Koraidon and Miraidon have made their homes on Mt. Stavery in Elemen. There's a lot less of them than the other Paradoxes, but still more than one like in the game proper.

Great Tusk and Iron Treads live in the Gayas Island Caves under Linze in Westland.

Brute Bonnet and Iron Hands live in the Dankirk Dungeons in Northland.

Slither Wing and Iron Moth live in the Alive Forest in Crystaland.

Sandy Shocks is in the Karakka Desert in Manaland, while the Paradox Swords are in the route between the Empire's Northtown and Southtown in Manaland.

Iron Thorns is in the Abandoned Mines while the Paradox Beasts are in a forest north of Terazzi in the Lens Alliance.

Scream Tail and Iron Bundle live in the Death Mountain Caves in Hyrule.

Roaring Moon and Iron Valient live in the Phantom Hill Caves in Lakeland.

Flutter Mane and Iron Jugulis live in an Abandoned Factory in Soshen of the Southern Island Alliance.

[elysiium]

❛   ──   𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈   . . .  auraline wayne .

it’s been a while since we’ve seen aura in the shadow world. the seelie resides in faerie and reminds us of sun-kissed skin, dancing in the rain and wild flowers. rumor has it that they might have a connection to seelie court as the seelie queen, but only time will tell where their loyalties really lie. until then, only one thing is certain : the descent into hell will be easy for the ethereal.

❛   ──   𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒆 .

name . . . auraline ( pronounced au-ra-lean ) wayne .

nicknames . . . aura , linie .

species . . . seelie ( faerie ).

age . . . over 330 , appears around 28 .

date of birth . . . the spring equinox .

place of birth . . . the queen's spire , faerie realm .

pronouns . . . she , her .

sexuality . . . demisexual , demiromantic .

residence . . . the queen's spire , faerie realm .

languages . . . english , portuguese .

❛   ──   𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 .

doppelgänger . . . bruna marquezine .

height . . . 5.4 ft , 1.65 m .

hair color . . . dark brown .

eye color . . . brown .

notable features . . . her eyes change hues depending on her mood . they are naturally a light brown , but become darker when angry and upset or lighten to a honey-gold when she experiences joy and happiness .

❛   ──   𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 .

parents . . . amara and zagan , the two original faeries .

siblings . . . kaelie morais ( half - sister ).

familiar connections . . . leopold wayne ( husband ) , celeste wayne ( daughter ) , alina wayne ( daughter ) , ryella wayne ( daughter ) , alexander wayne ( father - in - law ) , tbd wayne ( mother - in - law ) , calahan wayne ( brother - in - law ) , three other brother / sister - in - laws .

pets . . . fuego ( red - tailed hawk ) , faramir ( unicorn ) , leora ( hellhound ) , cassiopeia ( husband's immortal owl ) , aurelis ( husband's hellhound ) , a variety of wild animals that live around a private cottage owned by her and leopold .

❛   ──   𝒉𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚 .

a product of a secret love affair between the two original fae : amara , the seelie queen , and zagan , the unseelie king . her father's identity was kept a secret from auraline and both courts . a curse was cast on auraline not long after her birth . an unknown sickness overtook her : if she were to stay in the realm , she would die . amara was forced to give her only daughter away ; she was exchanged with a changeling child ━━━ aura to live with mundane parents and the human child taking her place , growing up with loving fey parents in the queen's court . she grew up not knowing she was fey or royal . her human parents knowing she was different , but did what they could to provide for her still . . . until one spur of random magic drew the attention of their village . aura was branded a witch and had to run away . a few years later she was discovered by a warlock , leopold wayne . he took her under his wing : she learned what she was ( fey ) but more than that he gave her a home . after years of friendship , feelings blossomed into more . he gave her the world and she spent two decades with him , loving and promising to be his ━━━ forever and a day . until the day faerie consumed her . she longed to find her family and the seelies allowed her entrance to their realm . . . if she came alone . it was a difficult decision , but with her husband's blessing she ventured forward in the land . for a time , she would come back to the mundane world to see him in between her search ━━━ until one day she didn't . to those in the outside world , it seemed she disappeared without a trace . in truth ? queen amara kidnapped and trapped her . she remained under her cruelty and beauty ( no matter how many times she tried to escape ) until amara died due to her own folly , leaving aura as the new ruler of the realm . the weight of the crown changed her . the first few years of her reign , she was cold , distant , trying to establish herself as the ruthless leader her mother wanted her to be . it was by her hand that the spell to trap everyone in the faerie realm occurred . her motives were her own , but she never imagined how dire the consequences would become . it was this that finally reunited her with leopold . the first weeks was difficult being around him , both hurt and angry over her actions . but neither one of them could fight the feelings they still held . they gave into one another , rekindling their relationship . two years after casting her spell , there was an attack on the faerie realm . it left the realm damaged and the veil thin ━━━ her world now tied closer to the mundane , within central park of new york city . though time has passed since , the queen still feels as if she is failing her people and her kingdom ; however , with leo now as her king , she leans on him to blossom into the queen her kingdom needs and deserves .

❛   ──   𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 .

familiar . . . potentially more half - siblings .

romantic . . . none .

platonic . . . her ladies - in - waiting , her queen's guard , regular guards , advisors of the seelie court , just more members of the seelie court .

❛   ──   𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒔 .

psd & template by @goodvibesrph .

[kaelidascope]

It them <3

[rubiegak]

" do you want to show me where trans people have said they have it harder then women? and where they insert themselves into ‘female spaces’ which wouldn’t be classed as them inserting themselves in as trans women are women "

the existence of the terms "tma" and "tme" show it pretty overtly. people in practically any leftist/lgbt space will put either of those terms in their bio to denote their "privilege", that privilege being that they aren't trans women (I.e usually female). The issue with that is that trans women are male, they hold privilege over any female person regardless of what their gender identity is. Have you ever noticed how much trans women mock trans men and their struggles, and how often trans men are shut down by trans women? How much of the trans movement and discussions of trans rights revolve specifically around trans women? How meek and quiet and scared trans men are to center themselves in what should also be their community? Does it not maybe set off an alarm that these supposed "women" are blatantly displaying their male socialisation over female "men"? Is that not crazy and absurd to you? I used to be the same as you - I fought terfs on my original blog, I told them to kill themselves and said many misogynistic things towards my fellow women. And it was noticing the way trans women refuse to let go of their male socialisation and supremacy especially in order to be misogynistic that made me realise I might be on the wrong side of history. Personally, I don't want to support misogyny. If you do, that's your business. In terms of them inserting themselves in women's spaces... lia thomas is a pretty famous example im certain you're familiar with. He was even banned recently from ever competing with women again. Look at the various accounts on tiktok with completely untransitioned males talking about how they yelled at women in the bathroom for telling them to leave. There was one I believe named Kaelie. It's not hard to find. There are many examples.

unless you stop hiding behind anonymous asks im really not reading all of that. if you want to have a serious conversation we can but ur obviously just gonna act stupid when its all anonymous

[likestvrlight]

𝐯𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚  𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬  𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧  𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞  𝐣𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬  ,  “  i  will  be  back  enough  that  we  can  have  the  other  option  sometime  .  ”  she  shrugs  .  “  so  we  will  have  the  other  option  another  time  .  ”  she  shrugs  again  .  she  knows  kaelie  does  not  withhold  such  promises  out  of  punishment  ,  and  in  many  cases  ,  vala  wouldn’t  remember  —  she  never  had  with  vik  .  but  inês  is  special  . she would remember for her family now .  “  it  depends  .  she  won’t  fly  the  first  few  times  ,  though  .  will  have  to  get  used  to  her  dragon  first  .  ”  she  reaches  out  to  stroke  her  fingers  along  lacey  .  “  she  may  be  different  due  to  me  being  an  original  .  i  would  not  know  ,  though  ,  since  aspasia’s  magic  interfered  with  talia  .  ”  she  hums  .  “  what  if  that  is  his  preference  ?  what  makes  you  happy  .  or  perhaps  you  tell  him  that  you  would  like  to  know  his  preference  ,  even  if  he  still  insists  on  yours  .  ”  

the unseelie princess hums while her friends talks to inês . ❛ i think i am starting to understand why she loves you more than me . ❜ she jokes . ❛ i never promise that we are going to have the other thing another time . ❜ which is not a form of punishment or anything of the likes , but . . . kaelie would not even remember which choices they had that night . ❛ do you know when that is going to happen ? her first shift ? ❜ she wonders while she glances at the baby in her arms . lacey looks like a perfectly normal baby , but that makes her wonder even more . ❛ is that something that has to happen consciously after a couple of years , or could it happen any time now ? ❜ chocolate brown eyes glance at the blonde and she nods before she lets out a long breath . ❛ as nice as that sounds , it can be a problem . see , if my happiness matters more than anything else , i never know what he would prefer . ❜

[wineisdivinepdx]

Launching 7 Cider Cocktails At Virtue Farm This Month

Greg Hall asked me to develop a cider cocktail program for Virtue.  I R&D’ed the cocktails during the slow first quarter of 2023 & we launched all seven earlier this month. I never thought I’d have this much fun creating the lineup. It was a blast. Just being able to wrap my head around what’s possible utilizing only cider and no other alcohol to make tasty drinks was a fun challenge.

I was also able to heavily lean on Rare Tea Cellar in Chicago.  I have a great deal of respect for what they do, and their various teas created a layer of complexity in each cocktail [selection pictured below]. I also got to work with other sweeteners such as molasses, concentrated pear juice from Seedling Farms and barley syrup, which was really enlightening, making texture without hard spirit addition.

Another ingredient I enjoyed incorporating into the lineup was Jeffrey Morgenthaler’s lime cordial, if you haven’t made this yet, please give it a go [recipe here]. It’s so good. And I finally got to use saffron. I’ve been wanting to play with saffron for a while. I created an infusion with Michigan-made Vernors, saffron and Rare Tea Cellar Emperor’s Lemon Meritage tea. Culinarily and philosophically, I love mixing lowbrow and highbrow together. This elixir does that, is crazy delicious and creates the most complex cocktail of the menu, The Alchemist’s Apprentice.

Also very fun was teaching the crew the menu and watching them make & serve the cocktails. Two of the lineup are made in a cocktail shaker, the remainder are either built in a mixing glass or highball-style, made directly in the serving glass. There’s even one seven-touch cocktail in the mix. Something we eschewed at Shift Drinks, but was fun nonetheless to develop for Virtue.

The marketing of these cocktails started yesterday. Check out the first Instagram Reel here. I love the Wes Anderson aesthetic. Thanks to Seth, Sara, CK, Kaely and Charlie for making these vignettes. I can’t wait to see the rest.

VIRTUE FARM CIDER COCKTAIL MENU

The Alchemist’s Apprentice Our Abeille cider with house made Vernors infusion of saffron & Rare Tea Cellar's Lemon Meritage, Peychaud's & Regans' bitters, Forbidden Forest Lapsang Souchong mist. Served up in a coupe. This drink was inspired by Sam Ross' modern classic Penicillin.

Blue In The Face Blueberry Mitten cider with Rare Tea Cellar’s Emperor’s Peppermint with fresh mint & orange bitters. Served in a bodega glass on the rocks. A refreshing apéritif.

Cider & Sand Fresh orange juice, L'Aperitivo NA Vermouth, malted barley, Rare Tea Cellar's Bourbon Vanilla Chai, Seedling Farms pear syrup & our Cherry Mitten cider. Shaken hard, served up in a pub glass. This drink is our variation of the classic Blood & Sand.

The Golden Palmer Goldenhour cider, Rare Tea Cellar's Regal English Breakfast tea, fresh lemon juice & cane syrup, stirred and served in bodega glass on the rocks. The cider version of a classic Arnold Palmer.

Memed & Mocked Jeffrey Morgenthaler's lime cordial, Rare Tea Cellar's Forbidden Forest Lapsang Souchong, our Maple Mitten cider, Angostura bitters. Served up in a coupe. A cider version of a classic Gimlet.

Mending Wall Rare Tea Cellar’s Bourbon Vanilla Chai, Matriarch pear-ginger cider molasses, our original Mitten cider & orange bitters. Served on the rocks in a bodega glass. Our take on a classic Stone Fence.

Rural/Metro Rare Tea Cellar’s Cran-Apple tea, fresh lime juice, cane syrup, orange bitters & topped with our iconic Brut cider. Served up in a pub glass. A cider version of a classic Cosmo.

Should you find yourself in Fennville this summer, I hope you get to try one of these, please. Make sure you say, “Hi!” too.

[rarealdcresults]

NUVO, in Pittsburgh (November 20-22, 2015) [2016 Competition Season]:

Mini Solo:

Sarah Hunt - “Winter” (Lyrical) - 4th Place / High Gold

Junior Solo:

Jessa Kinter - “Tonight” (Contemporary) - 7th Place / High Gold

Brooke Kosinski - “That’s Life” (Musical Theater) - 9th Place / High Gold

Haley Vrolijk - “Porcelain Doll” (Specialty) - Did Not Place / High Gold

Kylie Edwards - “Origins” (Jazz) - Did Not Place / High Gold

Junior Group:

“Spare Change” (Contemporary) [Brooke Kosinski, Haley Vrolijk, Jessa Kinter, Kylie Edwards, Nina Cergnilia, Sarah Hunt & Selah Curran] - Did Not Place / High Gold

Teen Solo:

Kaeli Ware - “For You” (Contemporary) - 4th Place / High Gold