#object land emerald

[t4x208]

me giving object land love and support part 1

[lazy-ahh]

Ello~! I was wondering if I can make a request with Mohawk Mark X Starfire Male Reader! Just thinking about them interacting makes me think it’d be cute and funny, especially if Mohawk Mark’s the first person Reader meets and Reader kisses him to learn his language ^_^

LOST STAR

pairing mohawk! mark grayson x (tamaranean/starfire) male reader

when a tamaranean crash-lands on earth with his powers locked behind strange cuffs, the last person he expects to meet is mark grayson—mohawk, piercings, and all the attitude of a pissed-off superhuman. but after a very unconventional first encounter (involving lips, language barriers, and zero personal space), the two find themselves tangled in something neither expected. now mark’s stuck babysitting an alien who follows him like a lovesick comet, touches him like he’s something sacred, and looks at him like he’s the entire damn universe. worst part? mark’s starting to like it.

taglist @hhoneylemon , @queermaeda , @yujensstuff , @thebatsgreatestfailure , @roryroro

the sky was a lazy blend of orange and pink, the sun sinking low behind the rooftops and stretching the shadows of trees and telephone poles into long, crooked fingers across the quiet suburban streets. mark grayson—invincible, not that the name really mattered—was sprawled on the edge of a rooftop, one leg swinging idly over the drop while he chewed on the inside of his cheek. bored. so stupidly, mind-numbingly bored.

nothing ever happened in this dump at this hour surprisingly. no rampaging villains to put through a wall, no collapsing buildings to prop up last-minute, not even a damn bank robbery to spice things up. just the same old houses, the same old people, the same old nothing. he sighed, tilting his head back. maybe he should just bail—go home, flop onto his bed, and finally read the new issue of seance dog that had been sitting on his desk for two days.

he pushed himself up, rolling his shoulders, ready to take off—

"invincible."

cecil’s voice crackled through the earpiece in his right ear, sharp and no-nonsense. mark groaned, tapping the device. "what."

"we’ve got an unidentified object approaching earth at high speed. trajectory puts it landing in your area. intercept and assess—neutralize if it’s a threat. you know the deal."

mark’s lips curled into a grin. finally.

he barely had time to glance up before something streaked across the sky—a blur of green and purple, moving way too fast to be a meteor, way too alive to be space junk. it slammed into the park across the street with a boom that rattled windows and sent birds scattering in panic.

mark didn’t hesitate. he kicked off the roof, the air whipping past him as he dropped down, landing hard enough to crack the pavement near the smoldering crater you’d left behind. dust swirled in the air, thick and choking, but as it cleared—

there you were.

and oh, this just got interesting.

you were… colorful. like, stupidly colorful. not in some tacky, neon way—more like the kind of vibrant that made mark’s brain stutter for half a second. your skin was a warm, sun-kissed gold, like you’d been dipped in honey and left to glow under some star. your hair—wow, your hair—was a wild mess, strands floating slightly as if gravity had given up trying to tame it. and your eyes. bright, glowing green, like two emerald suns blinking up at him, dazed but sharp.

mark’s gaze dragged lower, slow and deliberate, drinking in the sight of you like he’d just stumbled across something precious. yeah, you were built like him—lean but layered with tight, coiled muscle, the kind of body that spoke of battles fought in zero gravity, of limbs trained to twist mid-air and strike like a comet. but where mark was all rough edges and impatient energy, you were polished. sleek in a way that made his throat feel weirdly dry.

your outfit didn’t help. deep, royal purple—the kind of color that shifted in the dying light, almost metallic, like liquid amethyst poured over your skin. it clung to you perfectly, hugging every dip and curve of your frame, leaving your arms bare and flexing, biceps tensing as you tested the cuffs. the fabric looked smooth but impossibly tough, like it could take a hit from a plasma cannon and barely singe.

then there were the details—the silver metal sleeves encasing your forearms, running from wrist to just beneath the swell of your bicep. sleek violet boots, fitted like they’d been forged onto you. and that collar—high, armored, framing your jawline and flaring over your shoulders like some kind of alien royalty. it gave you this… presence. like you hadn’t just crash-landed in a park. like you’d meant to make an entrance.

mark’s lips quirked. space prince. a really pissed-off one, judging by the way you were glaring at your restraints.

interesting.

mark's eyes dropped to your wrists, where thick, pulsating cuffs glowed with an eerie violet light. they weren't just restraints—they were alive with foreign tech, humming like a trapped wasp nest, their surfaces crawling with strange, liquid-metal runes that shifted under his gaze. you groaned through clenched teeth, the veins in your biceps standing out as you wrenched against the cuffs which were flashing brighter in response as if mocking your efforts. a frustrated snarl ripped from your throat, one that made the hair on mark's arms stand up—there was something distinctly predator about it.

"well, well," mark drawled, his arms crossing over his chest, fingers tapping an impatient rhythm against his bicep. "looks like earth's got itself a new intergalactic tourist." his lips curled into that trademark smirk, the one that usually made people nervous. "let me guess—not the welcome party you were expecting, right?"

your head snapped up at that, those glowing green eyes narrowing. for a second, you just stared at him like he'd grown a second head, your nose wrinkling in a way that might've been cute if not for the dangerous glint in your eyes. when you spoke, it was like listening to a storm given voice—words that rolled and crashed in impossible rhythms, some syllables sharp as broken glass, others smooth as molten gold. the sounds curled through the air between you, carrying the scent of ozone and something distinctly not-of-this-world.

mark blinked, his smirk faltering for half a heartbeat. "uh. yeah," he said, shaking his head as if that might dislodge the foreign sounds from his ears. "no idea what the hell you just said."

your expression darkened, those glowing eyes flickering like a dying neon sign. he saw the exact moment you gave up on communication—your jaw tightening, the muscles in your shoulders coiling like springs. then, in a burst of motion so fast it left afterimages, you were gone. one second you were there, kneeling in the smoldering crater, the next you were nothing but a comet's tail of emerald and amethyst streaking upward, the shockwave of your takeoff sending dirt and debris spraying in all directions. the air where you'd been shimmered with displaced energy, the scent of burnt ozone hanging heavy in your wake.

"oh, hell no," mark growled, the words tearing from his throat as he kicked off the ground hard enough to crater the pavement beneath him. the air screamed past his ears as he shot after you, his mohawk flattening against his skull from the sheer velocity.

the chase was a goddamn lightning strike—you moved like starlight given form, all emerald and violet streaks against the twilight sky. you banked hard around a skyscraper, your restrained hands somehow not slowing the fluid way you carved through the air, dipping between buildings with impossible grace before rocketing toward the distant tree line. mark gritted his teeth until his jaw ached, pushing his limits to match your speed. you were quicker, yeah, but he was all stubborn rage and earth-born grit, refusing to let some cuffed-up alien outfly him in his own damn city.

the forest came up fast—too fast. the two of you crashed through the canopy in an explosion of splintered branches and shredded leaves, the scent of pine resin thick in the air as you skidded to a stop in a small clearing. dirt and debris sprayed outward from your landing, the impact sending small creatures scattering into the underbrush. you spun to face him, your cuffed hands held in a defensive position despite the restraints, those glowing green eyes burning like solar flares in the dim light. your chest heaved with each breath, but your stance never wavered—balanced, dangerous, like a coiled spring ready to snap.

mark barely had time to flash that infuriating smirk before you lunged.

your first strike shouldn't have been possible with bound hands—a vicious, glowing green haymaker that left afterimages in its wake as it rocketed toward his jaw. mark barely ducked in time, feeling the superheated energy of your fist singe the tips of his hair as it passed. he countered with a sharp jab to your ribs, but you twisted mid-air with impossible flexibility, your knee coming up in a brutal arc that connected with his diaphragm. the impact lifted him clean off his feet, all the air rushing from his lungs in a pained "oof" as he skidded backward through the dirt, his back slamming against an unfortunate sapling that snapped in half from the force.

"the hell—?!" he wheezed, his vision swimming as he struggled to draw breath. his ribs throbbed where you'd hit him—that shouldn't have hurt so damn much. why the hell do your hits feel like freight trains?

you didn’t let up. another punch—sharp, precise—aimed for his ribs. a spinning kick that nearly took his head off if he hadn’t ducked in time. every movement was fluid, calculated, like you’d spent years mastering how to fight even with your hands bound. mark blocked what he could, arms stinging from the impact, but damn, you were good. not just strong—trained. like someone had carved you into a weapon and set you loose.

"alright, enough," he growled, finally snatching your wrist mid-swing, his fingers locking around the smooth metal cuff. you snarled, muscles straining as you tried to yank free, but he held firm, his grip unrelenting. "i’m not trying to fight you, dumbass!"

you froze. your chest heaved, sweat glistening along your temple, those glowing green eyes locked onto his with an intensity that made his pulse stutter. for a heartbeat, neither of you moved—just the sound of ragged breathing between you. then, slowly, your glare softened into something uncertain, almost curious. you huffed, nostrils flaring, before your gaze flicked down—to his lips.

then—

you lunged.

mark’s brain short-circuited. one second, he was glaring at you, ready to snap another insult—the next, your mouth was on his, warm and burning, like kissing sunlight given form. your lips were softer than he expected, but there was a roughness to it, a desperation that left him dizzy. your scent flooded his senses—something wild and electric, like ozone and crushed juniper berries.

he didn’t even realize he’d started kissing you back until you pulled away, and god, his body moved before his brain could catch up—chasing your lips in a hazy, instinctive daze, as if you’d stolen the air from his lungs and he needed it back.

you broke the contact with a quiet smack, licking your lips like you’d just tasted something fascinating. your tongue darted out, slow, deliberate, as if savoring the flavor of him.

"there," you murmured, your voice smooth now, laced with an accent that curled around the words like smoke. the glow in your eyes flickered, satisfied. "now i can understand you."

mark just stared, his lips still buzzing with the phantom warmth of yours, his heart hammering against his ribs like it was trying to escape. he could still taste you—something sweet and foreign, like starlight given flavor. "...what the fuck."

his hand rose slowly, the back of it dragging across his mouth in a rough gesture, like he could wipe away the lingering sensation. it didn't work. "what the hell was that?" his voice came out strangled, higher than usual.

you blinked, your glowing green eyes wide with sudden concern. the way your brows knitted together was almost... cute. damn it. "i am sorry," you said carefully, each word deliberate like you were testing how they felt in your new tongue. your head tilted slightly as you spoke. "my people... we learn speech like this." you raised your cuffed hands slightly, fingers brushing your own lips in demonstration. "lips must touch. to know words."

mark's face burned hotter. "so you just- what, kiss people to talk to them?"

"yes." you nodded earnestly, then hesitated. your nose scrunched as you searched for the right words. "but... not for... pleasure? only learning." you gestured between the two of you. "now i understand you. but your face..." your hand hovered near his cheek, not quite touching. "you look... burned? did i hurt you?"

"no, i'm not- that's not-" mark sputtered, running a hand through his mohawk in frustration. he could still feel the shape of your mouth against his. "it's just... humans don't usually do that, okay? we learn languages the boring way. with books and shit."

your glowing green eyes widened, the light in them pulsing faintly with genuine surprise. "that sounds... very slow." you said it with such sincere, heartbreaking pity—like mark had just confessed he still walked everywhere instead of flying—that his lips twitched despite himself, a choked laugh threatening to escape.

mark groaned, his calloused palm dragging down his face hard enough to briefly distort his features. "unbelievable," he muttered through his fingers. "welp, there goes my first kiss. first alien i meet, and they're a total weirdo."

your head tilted slightly to the side, those luminous eyes blinking once, twice. the movement was so distinctly not human—too smooth, too precise—that it sent an odd shiver down mark's spine. "weer-dee-oh?" you repeated carefully, the unfamiliar word rolling awkwardly off your tongue. your nose scrunched adorably as you tested the syllables. "this is... a bad thing?"

the innocent question, paired with your utterly serious expression, finally broke mark. a sharp bark of laughter escaped him before he could stop it. "oh my god," he wheezed, shoulders shaking. "you're killing me here." he waved a hand vaguely in your direction, struggling to compose himself. "no, it's just- yeah, okay, maybe a little bad. but mostly... you're just different. in a... in a way that makes my brain hurt."

you considered this for a moment, then nodded solemnly. "then i will be... careful with your brain." you said it with such grave sincerity that mark had to bite his lip to keep from laughing again.

the sudden crackle of cecil's voice in his earpiece nearly made mark jump. "invincible. report. was that explosion our new visitor?"

mark sighed, pressing a finger to his ear. "yeah, yeah. we're all good. turns out tall, glowing, and stab-happy here isn't actually—hey!" he interrupted himself as he caught you twisting your wrists violently against the cuffs, your teeth gritted in frustration. without breaking his conversation, he reached over and snapped the remaining restraint like it was a stale breadstick. "—isn't actually a threat. just... real enthusiastic about first impressions."

"you're telling me you've made peaceful contact with an unknown extraterrestrial in under five minutes?" cecil's dry tone could've withered flowers. "should i alert the press about your stunning diplomatic skills?"

"shut up," mark muttered, pointedly ignoring the way you were now staring at him with those big, glowing eyes—like he'd just saved your family and your cat instead of breaking some stupid cuffs. your fingers flexed experimentally, green energy already crackling around your freed hands. it was... distracting. "look, they're harmless. mostly. just... really into the whole kissing thing."

a beat of silence. "...i'm going to pretend i didn't hear that."

"good call," mark said, watching as you shook out your wrists, that ridiculously grateful expression still plastered on your face. he pointedly turned his back, feeling his ears heat up. "anyway, we're cool here. no invasion today. probably."

"your confidence is overwhelming," cecil deadpanned. "anyway, bring them to headquarters immediately—the guardians and i will want to assess this situation properly."

"what? no, he's fine—" mark started, but cecil cut him off.

"that wasn't a request, grayson. headquarters. now." the line went dead with finality.

mark groaned, turning back to see your stupidly earnest face. "stop looking at me like that," he grumbled, crossing his arms. "it was just some cuffs."

you blinked, then smiled—slow and bright like a sunrise. "to you, maybe." your newly freed hand reached up, almost hesitantly, to brush against his arm. "to me... it was everything."

mark's stomach lurched violently, like he'd just missed a step going downstairs. that uncomfortable warmth spread from his chest up to his ears, burning under his skin. oh, this was so not good. with a sharp turn, he pivoted on his heel, deliberately facing away from you so you wouldn't see how flushed he'd become. "anyway, we gotta move. looks like we're taking a field trip," he muttered, voice rough around the edges as he started walking a little too fast.

you blinked, your glowing eyes widening slightly as your head tilted at that perfect, infuriating angle that made your hair sway. without hesitation, you floated after him, keeping pace effortlessly. "field... trip?" the words sounded foreign in your mouth, your accent wrapping around them curiously.

"yeah," mark grumbled, dragging a hand through his mohawk. he could already imagine the interrogation—cecil's piercing stare, the guardians' skeptical looks, and god, if his dad got involved... his shoulders tensed at the thought. "to meet my coworkers. and my boss." he shot you a sideways glance, trying to sound casual as he added, "try not to kiss anyone this time, okay?"

you gently shook your head, the motion sending little emerald sparks dancing through your hair. "there is no need to worry." your voice was soft but certain, like this was the most obvious thing in the world. "i won't kiss anyone else other than you."

mark's steps faltered. he whirled around so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. "what do you mean by that?" his voice came out embarrassingly high-pitched.

you looked at him with mild surprise, those luminous eyes studying his flustered expression with open curiosity. "i meant that i'll only ever kiss you if i needed to learn more of the language." a small, knowing smile played at your lips as you added, "though, i doubt i'd need to."

mark's brain short-circuited. the way you said it—so simple, so matter-of-fact—left no room for argument. that uncomfortable warmth in his chest bloomed hotter, spreading down to his fingertips. he swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of how close you were standing.

oh. he was so completely fucked.

(≧∇≦)ﾉ☆

mark absolutely hated this. hated how you floated after him everywhere like some glowing green shadow. hated how you’d tilt your head at every little thing—vending machines, pigeons, traffic lights—like they held the secrets of the universe. hated most of all how cecil had dumped babysitting duty on him with that infuriating smirk. "just keep him out of trouble, grayson. how hard can it be?"

it was impossible. you were a walking disaster wrapped in purple uniform. yesterday you’d tried to "help" him stop a bank robbery by smiling brightly at the thieves and asking why they needed the money, as if you were going to try out to talk-no-jutsu them into not doing the crime anymore. the day before, you’d somehow set a hot dog stand on fire because "the meat tubes smelled sad and wished to be free." and now? now you were hovering two inches behind him as he tried to buy coffee, your chin practically resting on his shoulder as you stared at the cashier with terrifying intensity.

"dude. personal space," mark grumbled, elbowing you back gently. you didn’t move—just blinked those stupidly big eyes at him and whispered "the small human is giving you paper with numbers. is this a threat?"

mark’s eye twitched. "it’s called money, space case." he shoved a twenty at the cashier before dragging you away by your wrist, ignoring how your fingers immediately curled around his like some overgrown, alien puppy. "we’ve been over this. no interrogating minimum wage workers. no ‘investigating’ trash cans. and for the love of god—" he yanked you back as you started drifting toward a police horse, "—no trying to communicate with earth animals!"

you pouted, all soft lips and wounded dignity, your glowing eyes shimmering with genuine concern. "but the furry one looked lonely."

mark's stomach did that stupid, traitorous flip again—the one that made his ribs feel too tight. he hated that most of all. hated how you'd somehow woven yourself into every fucking corner of his life these past four weeks. you were practically living at his house now, curled up on his couch like some exotic housecat whenever his mom made tamaranean-friendly snacks (which she learned for hours from your instructions). debbie adored you, always saving the snacks just for you, laughing at your terrible attempts at earth jokes. even his father—stone-cold nolan grayson—had started giving you those barely-there smiles when you correctly answered his space trivia questions.

the guardians treated you like some precious child they had adopted. darkwing let you fiddle with his tech. war woman sneaked you candy. even cecil, the human embodiment of a migraine, had gruffly admitted you were "tolerable and nice for your own good." everyone loved you. and mark? mark was so, so fucked.

what he hated most were the nights. those quiet, vulnerable nights when you'd slip into his bed after nightmares about your crashed ship, wearing nothing but his stolen seance dog hoodie (now permanently smelling like starlight and something sweet) and those stupid black boxers that rode too low on your hips. you'd curl against him like a contented star, your warm fingers tracing constellations across his cheekbones, his collarbones, the hard planes of his chest—always to the rhythm of that damn song he'd first introduced to you. he never told you to shut up whenever you would hum or even sing the tune, not because your voice sounded nice or anything, but because it just so happened to be his favourite song. your humming vibrated through his skin, your breath warm against his neck as you studied him with that reverent gaze, like he'd hung every fucking star in your sky.

mark would lie there, barely breathing, his heart pounding so loud he was sure you could hear it. he'd focus on keeping his muscles relaxed, on not shivering when your fingertips brushed his nipple accidentally, on pretending he didn't notice how your thigh kept sliding between his in order to tangle your limbs with his. and if his cock stirred in his sweats, thick and heavy with want? well. that was just biology. didn't mean anything. couldn't mean anything. because if you realized he was awake, if you saw the desperate hunger in his eyes, if you felt the way his hips twitched toward your touch—

it would ruin everything. and mark couldn't lose this. couldn't lose you. so he stayed still, stayed quiet, and let you have these stolen moments—even as they slowly drove him insane.

(≧∇≦)ﾉ☆

"i've always been curious about these tiny little metal things on your face." your voice was soft with wonder, fingertips hovering just above his skin like you were afraid he might vanish. slowly, so slowly, you traced the silver buds by his eyebrow, following the curve like it held some cosmic secret. your touch drifted down, feather-light, to brush the labret piercing at the bottom of the corner of his lip. when your thumb accidentally grazed the fullness of his bottom lip, mark's breath hitched—just for a second. "why did you get them?" you whispered, glowing eyes searching his.

mark had learned many things about you these past weeks. like how you were practically made of starlight and touch, always finding ways to connect—a hand on his arm when laughing, fingers threading through his when nervous, your entire body pressed along his back when curious about what he was doing. at first, it had been shy little brushes, like you weren't sure you were allowed. now? now you draped yourself over him without hesitation, leaning in close to whisper terrible jokes in his ear just to feel him shake with laughter.

("you know," red rush had said once, smirking as you clung to mark's arm like a vine, "most humans don't just... climb their friends like jungle gyms."

you'd just nuzzled into mark's shoulder, completely unbothered. "but mark isn't most humans." and damn if that hadn't made his chest feel too tight.)

mark had thought about setting boundaries. once. for about five seconds. then you fell asleep on his chest during movie night, and the idea evaporated like morning dew.

now, with your fingers still tracing his piercings, mark swallowed hard. "dunno," he muttered, trying (and failing) to sound casual. "thought they looked cool, i guess." a beat. then, softer: "my mom cried when i came home with the first one."

your glowing eyes crinkled at the corners. "i think they're beautiful," you murmured, thumb brushing his lip again—and okay, that was definitely on purpose this time. "like... constellations. but on your skin instead of the sky." your other hand came up to cradle his jaw, your touch warmer than any sun. "may i...?"

mark's heart was doing that stupid pounding thing again. "may you what?" he breathed, already leaning into your palm.

instead of answering, you closed the distance between you, pressing the softest kiss to each piercing—first his eyebrows, then the corners of his mouth. when you pulled back, your smile was brighter than any supernova. "now i'll always remember how they feel," you whispered, like it was some precious secret.

mark was pretty sure his lungs had forgotten how to work. "you," he croaked out, voice rough like gravel, "are such a weirdo." but his traitorous hands were already dragging you closer, fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips as his forehead fell against yours. the words came out thick with something he wasn't ready to name—something that burned in his chest whenever you looked at him like that. and god, that smile—the one that lit up your whole face, the one that was only ever for him—it sent a wave of heat crashing through him, turning his cheeks and neck an embarrassing shade of pink that matched the sunset bleeding through his bedroom window.

"is that still a bad thing?" you asked, already shifting like this was your rightful place. in one smooth motion, you straddled his thigh, your legs bracketing his like they were made to fit there. your arms looped around his neck with practiced ease, fingers playing with the hairs at his nape like you'd done this a thousand times before. mark's breath hitched as your weight settled fully against him—the firm press of your ass against his thigh, the way your biceps flexed under his fingertips, the heat of your bare skin where his shirt had ridden up. and fuck, if he didn't focus real hard on the ceiling, he was going to lose his mind over the unmistakable press of your cock against his stomach, barely concealed by those stupid thin boxers you always stole from him. he was just wishing you didn't notice the raging boner in his.

mark swallowed hard, his own traitorous body responding in kind. "no..." he managed, voice muffled as he buried his face in the curve of your neck, inhaling the scent of starlight and his own shampoo on your skin. one hand came up to cradle the back of your head, holding you close like you might disappear. "not with you." his lips brushed against your pulse point, the words spilling out in a whisper he couldn't take back. "never with you."

exactly 4.6k words, i'm honestly a tiny bit impressed lolol. anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this one-shot! i'm not gonna lie, i didn't know where i was going with this but yeah :]

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (8/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, fingering, mutual masturbation, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence, some kind of sexual harassment ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

"You are pathetic, like all your kin. Thank the gods you don't make me warm your bed, but your child asks about you and I don't know what to answer. That her father would rather spend time with whores in King's Landing than with his own daughter?" She heard her mother's hiss as if from afar, seeing darkness all around her, recognising in the vague outline of objects that she was standing in the corridor, by the door of her chamber.

How old could she have been then?

Had it really happened, or was it just a dream?

For some reason, her head hurt a lot.

"The Red Keep is no place for a little girl. Should I take her there to watch the lords around my brother fucking kill each other for power, let them marry her off to the first better rich old fool?"

"Would you rather she live without a father? Will you flee from that duty too?"

A long, uncomfortable silence ensued, which after a while was broken by the bitter, disappointed voice of her father.

"She resembles you too much."

She opened her eyes, feeling that the light was blinding her. She muttered, twisting on the soft bed, hearing someone's conversation fall silent a moment later.

"My Lady?"

She glanced sideways at the figure of the Maester leaning over her, his hand touching her head.

"Thank the gods, the fever has subsided. How do you feel?"

She swallowed hard, trying to remember what had happened and where she was, confused and frightened, feeling like her skull was about to explode from the pain.

And then she remembered.

His full lips pressed against hers, his hand between her thighs.

And a dim memory of what followed, the blow and her fall, his voice in the darkness, his hot breath on her face, the outline of his jaw in the candlelight, his sticky, hot kiss.

Sleep, little sister.

Your brother will stay by your side.

She sighed, tired and resigned, recognising that this was surely just a dream, her desire for someone to be there for her, to care and look after her.

She wondered if Lady Floris felt satisfaction now.

She knew she had partially earned it – despite knowing her cousin was betrothed, she did not push him away when his lips pressed against hers and his hand went under the fabric of her robe.

She acknowledged with surprise that she did not resent her.

"My head hurts a lot." She confessed at last, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

The Maester nodded in understanding, handing her some herbal infusion in a cup.

"Drink this, my Lady. It will soothe the pain. You should spend the day resting." He said.

They both shuddered as the door to her chamber opened: her cousin stepped inside dressed in an emerald tunic, his hair slightly damp, as if he had just taken a bath, tied back with a black ribbon.

"Leave us alone." He ordered, looking at her calmly with a gaze from which, for some reason, her heart beat harder.

"Your Highness." Said the Maester and bowed, disappearing after a moment behind the door.

Prince Aemond approached her lazily and surprised her as he sat on the bed beside her, leaning towards her, his hand touching her forehead as if he was checking something.

"Throughout the night, your body burned with fever. Thankfully, it's waned." He murmured, saying it more to himself than to her, sliding his fingers down her face, brushing his thumb against her cheek.

She felt a pleasant warmth in her lower abdomen as she realised that what she felt was not a dream.

He had really stayed with her.

She swallowed quietly, unable to look away from his gaze, her hand involuntarily touching his wrist.

"Will your betrothed forgive you?" She mumbled out, the guilt she felt like a needle stuck in her heart.

She didn't know this girl, but she had taken something from her.

She blinked as her cousin grinned broadly, a glint of madness in his gaze from which her heart pounded harder in her chest, the space between her thighs pulsed greedily around nothing.

"She is no longer my concern." He whispered, forming the letter o out of his mouth as if he were mocking, amused by the situation.

She looked at him for a moment and shook her head, not understanding what he was trying to say.

"What do you mean?"

"I have broken our betrothal. Just moments ago, at a meeting of the Small Council, I introduced to the assembled guard who was assigned to you, and whom Floris dismissed. No one else walked down the corridor, as they would have been spotted by the other guards. Her jealousy was a danger to the Crown. What if she thought she should also attack my sister, Helaena, fearing that I might also cohabit with her? My brother agreed with me that she could not remain in the Red Keep and left it at dawn today." He hummed, clearly pleased with himself, trailing his fingertips along her neck – his words made her eyes widen in disbelief.

He had simply sent her away.

Had this been his plan all along?

Had he kissed her then, in the library, hoping Floris would see it and do something ill-considered?

She didn't know why she felt an unpleasant stab of disappointment and regret, her eyebrows arching in sadness as she lowered her eyes, trying not to cry.

"What's that look? Hm?" He asked, catching her gently by the chin, lifting her face towards him so that she looked at him again.

"I admire how thoughtful everything you do is. Every step, every detail. Every gesture and sound." She whispered, feeling an uncomfortable tightness in her throat, fighting not to show him weakness.

"You think I planned this." He concluded, cocking his head to the side. "I wish I had. But you must believe me, dōna hāedar, that it was merely a matter of coincidence."

Dōna hāedar.

Sweet little sister.

"Lord Baratheon will not leave it like that. He will break the alliance." She whispered, and he snorted, leaning towards her, sinking his hand into her hair.

"So I'll take Vhagar and explain the situation to him. Mmm, I could take you with me – you would present to him the injustice that has befallen you at the hands of his daughter, and then you would warm my bed in one of the chambers in Storm's End." He said lightly, as if he thought that, indeed, this was a great plan with a guarantee of success.

"You would force him to listen to what you are doing to me." She sighed as she felt his thumb run over her lips, parting them, sinking his finger into their fleshy, moist structure.

She shuddered as his hand slid down to the material of her nightgown, untying it, a moan of surprise stuck in her throat as he spread it open, exposing her bare breasts.

"– I am a free man now, hāedar –" He gasped, leaning lower – her hands clenched into fists on either side of her head as the tip of his pink, wet tongue ran lazily over her hard, puffy nipple. "– and as your big brother, I have precedence in your bed –"

She threw her head back with an innocent, girlish moan as his lips clamped around her nipple, sucking on it gently as if he were a baby – her hands in some involuntary reflex entwined in his long white hair, pressing his face against her breast, feeling the shudders and pulsations surging through her cunt each time his tongue rolled around the sensitive spot.

"– ah –" She gasped, involuntarily rocking her hips, feeling this kind of sensation for the first time in her life – she didn't understand what purpose it was supposed to serve and she felt exposed, but on the other hand what he was doing was wonderfully pleasurable and exciting, her body responding to his caresses eagerly.

She bit her lower lip, trying to hold back her smile of satisfaction when his hand, clenched earlier on her breast, slid down her stomach lower, pulling impatiently at the material of her nightgown, searching blindly for the warmth between her thighs.

They both moaned, and her fingers pressed his face tighter to her body as his fingertips dug into her dripping folds, swollen with desire – her legs bent at the knees spread involuntarily, shamelessly asking for more.

He released her breast from between his lust-swollen lips and looked at her as if he had completely lost his mind, his gaze dark and shining as he lay down next to her on his side, guiding her hand to the twitching bulge in his breeches exactly as he had the evening before.

She didn't know why she was so willing, why when his forehead pressed against hers and their lips found each other in a passionate, loud kiss, filled with their sigh of delight, her fingers undid the buckles of his tunic and untied the material of his breeches, reaching fearlessly for what lay beneath them.

He closed his eyes and sighed, his body shuddering as he felt the gentle touch of her smooth hand on his erection, hot with desire, throbbing all over under her fingers. His free hand in some subconscious, helpless reflex sank into her hair, his lips melting with hers in a sweet caress seemed to seek reassurance that this would remain their secret.

The tips of their tongues licked against each other with their grunts of delight as his hand sunk into her leaking, silky cunt, circling around her small, delicate pearl while hers trailed over his throbbing manhood, teasing it.

He was hard as a rock.

"– squeeze it –" He breathed out into her mouth between one click of their wet lips and the next, taking his hand from between her thighs for a moment, clearly wanting to show her what he meant.

She opened her eyelids with difficulty, dulled by the sensations and his slick tongue sliding between their kisses down her throat, peering curiously at what she was touching. He stopped the caress for a moment, their faces pressed together, their gazes directed downwards.

"– here – right here – just like that, all the way to the top –" He whispered in a voice trembling with desire.

A quiet, helpless groan broke from his lips, enveloping her in the warmth of his breath as she obeyed him, clasping her fingers at the very base of his long, pink cock, squeezing it to the very tip of it, thick and smooth, dripping with his own wetness.

"– how is it possible for something like this to fit inside a woman? –" She mumbled and heard him smile, his hand returned back between her thighs, running warningly over her leaking slit.

"– I'll show it to you myself – one day –" He murmured, his lower lip running over hers in a gesture inviting her to another kiss, which she accepted with unprecedented eagerness, letting his hand sink into her hair to pull her closer, refusing to let her escape his starved mouth.

"– harder –" He demanded in a voice hoarse with desire between their loud, passionate kisses, and she smiled involuntarily under her breath – her hand, in accordance with his desire, clamped tighter on his root, causing him to let out a surprised, boyish moan from his throat.

Her heart fluttered harder in her chest at the thought that she didn't know he was capable of making such sounds.

So innocent.

Now, in this moment, he was helpless, vulnerable to hurt.

He craved.

And she couldn't waste this chance.

The space between her thighs was delighted with her plan, feeling his fingers circling around her swollen bud with cruel precision, their breaths heavy as their tips pushed against her entrance, opening her on their thickness.

"– lēkia –" She breathed out, a startled, sweet moan of euphoria bursting from her lips directly into his throat as his fingers forced their way deep inside her, only to slide out and repeat it all over again.

He sighed as she squeezed his swollen erection tighter in response – their hands found a shared rhythm, their hips rolling back and forth at the same time, their lips melting into hot kisses filled with excitement and impatience.

"– don't stop – mmm –" He purred into her lips, panting hard along with her, shivers of wondrous delight shaking her body again and again each time his fingertips hit the sweet spot deep inside her, from which she felt the tickle in her lips and nipples.

"– I – o-oh, gods –" She whimpered, feeling her inevitable peak approaching, his hand from her hair slid lower to her breasts, clamping down on it as if he himself was trying to hold back the inevitable.

"– go on – come on my fingers –" He exhaled, and those words were enough to make her body shake with a sweet shudder, from which a startled, innocent moan escaped her throat – she felt his fingers stop moving inside her, wanting only to feel her fleshy walls pulsing around their length, sucking them inside her.

"– hāedar –" He whispered and gasped all over with a sigh of relief when, after her next sure squeeze, his pearly, sticky release spilled over the snow-white material of her nightgown.

They lay like this, panting heavily, welted and sweaty with emotion, pressing their foreheads against each other, his hand lingering on her bare breast and deep inside her womanhood while her fingers stroked gently his throbbing, quivering manhood.

Despite what they had done, and that it was certainly a sin, there was also something innocent about it – their desires were pure and sincere, devoid of subtext, seeking only the release of tension, closeness and security.

When she opened her eyes she saw that his gaze was fixed on her chest, his lips slightly parted in a deep, uneven breath.

She thought he longed to do what he had always done with his lover – to sink his face between her plump breasts and allow himself to be embraced by her – but he knew that she knew his secret and that if he did so, he would expose himself to ridicule and confirm his brother's words.

She lifted her free hand and gently placed it on his, inviting him to sink his fingertips deeper into the soft structure of her bosom – he sighed when he looked at her, as if he didn't know what he thought of it himself, and after a moment he leaned down and nestled his face into the crook of her neck.

His hand remained on her breast – encourage by her gesture, he played with it between his fingers as her arms embraced and cuddled him into her, and he didn't push her away or say a word.

Looking down at her fingers sticky with his spend, her other hand combing lazily through his long white hair, she thought she had tamed not one dragon, but two.

They were both silent – there was something safe about that. It seemed to her that they both knew that whoever spoke first would show weakness – not of flesh but of character – and neither of them could afford to do so.

Desire was like thirst or hunger, obvious and needing no explanation, indicative of nothing more in fact it was.

It didn't need feelings.

"Criston Cole is gathering our army. He and my uncle will soon march for Harrenhal." He hummed, enveloping her neck with his warm breath, his hands closed over her breasts and her womanhood moved, stroking both places, making her shiver.

He shared his knowledge with her because he was proud of himself and felt a sense of satisfaction – he sought confirmation of his genius, her praise and understanding, her gaze of admiration that he so desperately desired.

Or was it a test?

Was he telling her this because he wanted to see if she contacted her father?

They both shifted position, lying on their sides, looking straight into each other's eyes – there was something in his gaze and grin that filled her with anxiety.

"Daemon is expecting our answer. What he doesn't know, however, is that Cole will actually head off to a different location."

She blinked, looking at him confused.

"Why?" She asked and sighed as he gently took her hand in his, looking at her in simultaneous concentration and excitement, as if he was delighted that she had asked about it.

She thought in disbelief that he was acting like a little boy.

He confided in her.

"– your smooth hand is Dragonstone –" He said, placing her hand on the bed and pointed with a circular motion of his finger to the sheet around it. "– all around it is the sea –"

"– this –" He murmured, his other hand sinking lazily into the skin of her exposed, bare breast, making her involuntarily clench her thighs. "– is King's Landing – and this –"

He whispered, slowly running his knuckles down her smooth stomach, a quiet sigh escaped her lips as his fingertips sank gently into the fleshy, moist folds of her soft womanhood.

"– this, dōna hāedar, is Harrenhal – everyone desires it, for it is the fortress that opens the way to the North – moreover, it is currently besieged by your father –" He gasped, teasing her throbbing slit with his fingers, causing her lips to part in a ragged breath, feeling the pleasant tingle of pleasure run down her spine.

She felt with shame that her nipples had hardened, pointy and sensitive, her little cunt all swollen from the waves of tickling ecstasy into which his words and touch had brought her.

"– this –" He continued, sliding his fingers, wet with her moisture up her thigh and knee. "– this is Winterfell – and with it the whole of the North –"

"– however, there is another important, inconspicuous place –" He said contentedly, returning his hands to her palm, his fingers running over her wrist. "– here is Rook's Rest – a small fortress that allows my sister-whore to cross to the continent – however, if you cut it off –"

He said and made a movement with the side of his hand across her wrist, as if he were cutting it off with a dagger.

Her heart thumped harder in her chest as she suddenly comprehended.

"– you want to cut her off from the land –" She muttered and he hummed, cocking his head, his lips curved in expression as if her words gave him satisfaction and tickled his ego.

"– does your brother know about this? –" She asked, and his expression changed – his jaw clenched in displeasure, his iris turned black, his brow straightened.

Her question frustrated him and destroyed his pleasant vision, she thought as he took his hands from her warm body.

"– Aegon did not devote his life to the art of war or the complexities of warfare – he preferred to drink and play with his whores –" He said with a wide smile that, if it were not for the look in his eyes, she might have considered joyful.

She knew, however, that he was furious.

She raised herself up on her elbows, letting the material of her nightgown slide even lower, exposing her shoulders and stomach.

"– don't do it – tell him –" She muttered, and he stood up, infuriated, and immediately tied the material of his breeches, displeased with the direction this discussion had taken.

"– I don't recall asking you for your opinion – it was a mistake to introduce a woman into these complicated, masculine matters –" He said coldly in a tone that suggested that one more ill-chosen word on her part and he would lose patience despite everything that had happened between them.

She, however, knew that what he was doing would sooner or later lead to a catastrophe of which she too would become a victim.

She had no intention of dying because of his pride.

"– your brother sees you as a threat – he is disturbed by your behaviour and is tense in your presence –" She said, looking at him pleadingly.

He, to her surprise snorted and laughed, looking down at her, a wide grin on his face.

"– he's afraid of me –" He said in a way as if it was his great achievement for which she should praise and kiss him.

She shook her head feeling that her face expressed terror.

"– yes, he's afraid of you – and that's not good information neither for you nor for me – gods, you can't let him stop trusting you – you're balancing on a thin line and forgetting that it doesn't matter if he fits the role or not, he's the King –" She said in a breaking voice, feeling her heart pounding like mad in her chest.

He stood over her with his lips slightly parted, breathing loudly, as if he was boiling inside, not knowing what to make of her words.

His gaze fled lower for a moment, to her breasts, as if her bared flesh and the memory of the pleasure they had given each other distracted him, and then back to her face.

He was silent.

He hesitated.

This was her chance.

"– I beg you to tell him – in the solitude of the chamber, so that no words are said in public – so that he cannot accuse you of plotting behind his back –" She whispered, shifting towards him on her hands, settling herself finally in front of him on her knees, looking up at him pleadingly.

He swallowed hard and clenched his hands into fists, as if struggling to restrain himself from touching her – her gaze fled down to the material of his breeches, under which his manhood pulsed.

"– this fool will demand Harrenhal – he won't understand – he wants great fortresses and great victories, not realising that war is composed of cunning and guile –" He said quietly, looking her straight in the face, his lips parted as if he was thirsty and she was a fleshy, wet fruit.

"– so let's convince him together – I know how to speak to him – he enjoys me and my honesty – he'll feel he's making important decisions, even though they've long since been made for him –" She said, breathing hard as he did, feeling how much she was risking by conversing with him so directly.

She saw something sinister flash in his eye, his tongue running over his lower lip.

"– do you let him touch you? –"

She blinked and snorted in disbelief, shaking her head as if she wasn't sure if he had really asked about it.

"– no – his tongue doesn't burst in between my lips and his hand doesn't seek the heat between my thighs –" She said and they both fell silent, panting quietly, as if something in her words aroused both her and him.

They shuddered and pulled away from each other as they heard someone's footsteps outside the door – her hands immediately covered her shoulders and breasts with her nightgown, while he quickly buckled his tunic.

When a quiet knock sounded she glanced at him and only spoke up when he looked as if nothing had happened between them.

She thought with amusement that because of their elation, his hair didn't look as perfect as usual.

"Come." She called out, and a servant came in with a tray, saying that she had brought the morning meal for her as prescribed by the Maester.

Her cousin left without a word, letting her eat in peace, and she exhaled heavily, spreading a piece of bread with berry confiture, thinking she was treading on thin ice.

She was neither his lover, nor his sister, nor his servant, but a chaos of his desires and needs.

Gods, have mercy on me, she thought.

To her surprise, as she was being examined by the Maester, who was looking at a large lump on her head, the King walked into her room.

Aegon seemed pleased that she was alive and looked healthy.

"– ah, you're awake, cousin – great news – Baratheon's whore is on her way back to her home – my brother never liked to have his toys destroyed – and I will not allow any of my family to be harmed in this fortress again –" He said lightly, walking over to the table, taking one of the jars that contained the herbs brought by the medics – he shook it, raised his eyebrows in disapproval and set it down.

She did not reply, deciding that silence in such a situation was safer.

"– he was never able to hide his jealousy or his displeasure, you know – he was forever walking around with his mouth curved in disgust, proud and vain, with his nose in his big books, as if they would make his other eye grow back –" He muttered, pacing around her bed, looking around the room.

"– you're a dragon rider and my cousin, and he gave you such a small chamber – it's inappropriate – I'll assign you another, better one, with a view of the sea – Lady Floris slept in it before, but I think she won't haunt you in your dreams – you'll be content –" He said, looking at her, and she nodded and smiled involuntarily.

"– that's it – that's the spirit – I like it – you should see Sunfyre – have you ever been in Dragon's Pit? –" He asked, as if hundreds of thoughts were going through his mind at once, and he was unable to focus on any.

"– no, my King –" She replied softly and hissed as the Maester touched a spot on the back of her head that was all sore and swollen.

"– forgive me, my Lady –" He whispered, and she nodded.

Aegon didn't seem to see this and simply went on.

"– we will travel there this afternoon, by carriage, so as not to strain you –" He said and seeing that the Maester wanted to state with certainty that this was not a good idea he raised his hand in the air, showing him not to interrupt mid-sentence. "– the fresh air will certainly do her good, and we won't spend much time there –"

Whether she wanted to or not, she had to go.

She didn't do so reluctantly, though, for indeed, she wanted to see the other dragons and the great cave they lived in.

However, as soon as the carriage doors closed behind them she realised what the true purpose of this journey was.

"I want Daemon to answer for the death of my son and I need you to help me convince my brother that I should set off to fight with him. He doesn't agree and every time he does it, he humiliates me in the eyes of the Small Council." He said with regret and frustration, from which she swallowed hard.

Oh gods.

She looked down at her hands, feeling the panic rising within her, standing between them as if between two walls that were moving closer and closer, finally colliding with each other and crushing her at the same time.

"The King must remain in King's Landing. Without you there is no point in all this." She said, looking at him expectantly.

She clenched her hands on her knees when she saw that his jaw clamped shut in rage, his eyes red from tears as his fist hit the carriage wall with all its force.

"– he's my son – you don't understand it – you're not a mother – my children are my biggest pride – they are sweet, good and kind, and now – now my son is locked in a cold stone sarcophagus underground and he's probably scared –" He mumbled out, burying his face in his hands, as if he believed that a decapitated child could wake up.

Despite the absurdity of his words, her throat tightened in sympathy, tears of sadness gathered under her eyelids as she looked at his huddled, distraught figure.

"– he's not suffering anymore – he's in a place where no one can hurt him again –" She muttered, and he sobbed loudly, as if he was only now allowing himself to truly grieve.

She swallowed hard when he reached out his arm to her, placing his elbow on his knee.

"– can you hold my hand? –" He gasped, choking on his own tears, and she felt a single, heavy tear run down her cheek.

Her hand grasped his, and his fingers tightened on hers as he cried and cried and cried.

Some part of her felt the need to embrace him and comfort him, she feared, however, that he might take this as an invitation to something else, something she did not want.

She didn't desire him that way, and his brother's fury would be immense.

So she held his hand in hers until they reached Dragon's Pit.

Sunfyre looked like a dragon straight out of fairy tales told to children – slender, long, shining as if he were made of pure gold he looked proud and towering. She smiled when she saw that the beast had pressed its head against its master's chest, and Aegon kissed its scales as if his dragon was also his child.

Something moved her at that sight, at his genuine joy and laughter.

She realised with horror that his younger brother had never smiled.

Not really.

The journey back to the Red Keep passed as she listened to his stories about their father.

"My father, and your uncle mostly forgot about having more than one child. The fucking cunt of Dragonstone was his favourite. His heiress to the throne even though he had a first-born son, for whom, after all, he had opened the womb of his first, beloved wife. Apparently he did so against her pleas, and her cries were heard throughout the fortress. And yet, my mother and my grandfather say that I should follow his example. That he was a wonderful, merciful king." He said, looking at her with a smile full of amusement, however, there was something else in his gaze: pain and fatigue.

He had not slept well for many months and only found comfort in wine.

"And your sister-wife? What is she like?" She asked, though she did not know why.

Aegon fell silent and the amusement disappeared from his face – he stared blankly out of the carriage window for a moment, as if musing.

"Her person is an eternal mystery to me. I don't usually understand what she says. But she is gentle and kind. She does not humiliate me, although she, of all our family, has the most reason to despise me." He said finally.

She swallowed silently, thinking that there was something childlike and innocent in his words, sincere and helpless, a cry of despair and a plea for help that no one answered.

She wondered if he and his brother knew how much alike they were.

She wanted to say it and had it on the tip of her tongue, but after a moment she realised that her cousin would kill her if he found out that she had described his weaknesses to his brother.

She had to balance the two of them so that they both loved her.

In some way.

When they returned to the fortress she immediately headed to her chamber, dreaming only of a warm bath.

As she stepped into her small room she reached into the back of her gown, grabbing the ties of her bodice, and opened her mouth, wanting to call out to a servant to help her.

"Where have you been?"

She looked back, terrified, clutching at the heart that had stopped in her throat hearing his cold voice – she saw his silhouette sitting on one of the chairs like a statue, his face stony and blank, his gaze dark.

Exactly as it had been when she had first seen him.

"With the King." She replied truthfully, reaching her fingers trembling with anxiety into the back of her gown again, pulling at the thin, bright ribbon, causing the whole dress to loosen.

She saw his lips tighten in fury, his nostrils twitching in a deep breath as if he was trying to control himself and not lash out at her.

"For what reason?" He asked further, tilting his head in curiosity, his wide grin indicating that he was on the verge of exploding.

"He wanted to show me Dragon's Pit and Sunfyre." She said without lowering her gaze, knowing that she could not show him fear.

She jumped up and took a step back, terrified when he suddenly burst from his chair with such fury that she only had time to snort for air and he was already at her side, grabbing her aggressively at the waist, slamming her body against the bedpost.

She sighed, resisting him passively as his free hand lifted the material of her skirt with a sharp movement, her hand gripped his wrist as his fingers sank into her womanhood and pushed against her slit, causing her discomfort and pain.

"– no – it hurts when I'm not prepared –" She exhaled, looking him straight in the eye.

They both breathed hard as something like satisfaction flashed across his face, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smirk full of contentment at the realisation that she wasn't wet.

That she didn't desire his brother.

He took his hand away and let her go, taking a step back and looking at her for a moment in silence.

"Mmm. I have come to you with another matter. From now on, our lessons will be held in my chamber. I wish to ensure that no one will…disturb us." He hummed softly, suddenly completely calm and pleased, the fingers of his hands rubbing against each other as if he was excited by the vision.

She sighed quietly, leaning the back of her head against the wooden column, feeling her cunt pulsate all over at the subtext she heard clearly in his words.

"So that no one disturbs my education, as I understand it?" She asked quietly, his gaze fixed on her hot and filled with something combining lust and madness.

"Indeed. What I wish to teach you requires much concentration and the privacy of the chamber." He said, and she felt her lips part wide in a thirsty sigh.

The corner of her cousin's mouth twitched in a grin, as if he remembered something, and then he moved towards the door, glancing at her over his shoulder with an expression from which a shiver ran along her spine.

"Wear the same robe as the last time. And let your hair down."

[vestaignis]

Парк Кёкенхоф в Голландии – парад весенних луковичных цветов.

«Страной тюльпанов» часто называют Голландию. Королевский парк цветов Кёкенхоф (Keukenhof) или Сад Европы – замечательное зрелище, приобщиться к которому ежегодно приезжают сотни тысяч туристов. Парк расположен в 30 км от столицы Нидерладов, в небольшом городе Лиссе (Lisse). Около 7 000 000 луковиц тюльпанов и других цветов высаживают на этих землях каждый год. Более пятидесяти миллионов гостей со всего мира побывали в Кёкенхофе со дня его основания.

Уникальные сады в парке Кёкенхоф выполнены в различных стилях. Не удивляйтесь, если, гуляя по английскому саду, вы вдруг окажетесь в японском оазисе или столкнетесь с многолетними вековыми растениями, окруженными тюльпанами, нарциссами, гиацинтами и другими благоухающими соцветиями.

Сегодня площадь Кекенхофа составляет 32 га; на 15 километров протянулись его пешеходные дорожки. Удивительную атмосферу создаёт сочетание прекрасных чистых водоёмов, изумрудной зелени лужаек и раскидистых старых деревьев. На глади прудов плавают грациозные лебеди, которые совершенно не боятся людей. Великолепный парковый ландшафт дополняют каналы, фонтаны и скульптуры. Среди уютных пасторальных пейзажей есть и национальные символы Голландии. В парке установлена ветряная мельница, оборудованная смотровой площадкой и разводной мости�� через канал. Для детей здесь создана мини-ферма с настоящими домашними животными.

Цветочные орнаменты и бордюры можно увидеть здесь повсеместно. Тематические цветочные мозаики изображают популярные объекты и достопримечательности (Биг Бен, Тауэрский мост и другие оригинальные композиции привлекают множество зрителей).

Keukenhof Park in Holland – a parade of spring bulbous flowers.

Holland is often called the “Land of Tulips”. The royal flower park Keukenhof or the Garden of Europe is a wonderful sight, which hundreds of thousands of tourists come to see every year. The park is located 30 km from the capital of the Netherlands, in the small town of Lisse. About 7,000,000 tulip bulbs and other flowers are planted on these lands every year. More than fifty million guests from all over the world have visited Keukenhof since its foundation.

The unique gardens in Keukenhof Park are made in various styles. Do not be surprised if, while walking through the English garden, you suddenly find yourself in a Japanese oasis or encounter perennial century-old plants surrounded by tulips, daffodils, hyacinths and other fragrant inflorescences.

Today, the area of ​​Keukenhof is 32 hectares; its pedestrian paths stretch for 15 kilometers. The amazing atmosphere is created by the combination of beautiful clean ponds, emerald green lawns and spreading old trees. Graceful swans swim on the surface of the ponds, which are not at all afraid of people. The magnificent park landscape is complemented by canals, fountains and sculptures. Among the cozy pastoral landscapes there are also national symbols of Holland. The park has a windmill equipped with an observation deck and a drawbridge across the canal. For children, a mini-farm with real domestic animals has been created here. Floral ornaments and borders can be seen everywhere here. Thematic floral mosaics depict popular objects and attractions (Big Ben, Tower Bridge and other original compositions attract many spectators).

Источник: //www.botanichka.ru/article/park-kyokenhof-korolevstvo-vesennih-lukovichnyih-v-gollandii/, /holidaygid.ru/keukenhof-unikalnyiy-park-tsvetov-v-, /koveles.livejournal.com/10715.html, ://www.tripadvisor.ru/Attraction_Review-g188597-d195228-Reviews-Keukenhof-Lisse_South_Holland_Province.html.

[auren-zagarra]

Hello! I hope you’re having a good day!

English is not my first language so forgive me if I make any mistakes.

Can I request Malleus with a female lover who is quite greedy and hungry? Not hungry for food, or greedy for jewels and lands, but for his love and undying attention, for him. She doesn't just want to be close, she wants to consume his essence along with everything he can offer her, as if fusion were the only way to quench her aching stomach.

I’m sorry if this is weird or confusing 😭

draco et reginae

Content Warning: Mallues x f!Reader, sexual content, greedy sex, MDNI

Characters Count: 5990

In the old tales - those whispered myths of princes, fairies, and kingdoms ruled by thyrans - dragons were always cast as greedy beasts. They hoarded coins that no longer held meaning, conquered kingdoms they could never rule and stole away princesses not for love, but for possession. But perhaps the stories were never quite honest. Perhaps the dragon’s hunger was not for gold or dominion, but for the forbidden. For that which shimmered with defiance, pulsed with life, and whispered, “you were never meant to touch this”. Oh, how exquisite it is - to hold what fate had never intended for your hands. And maybe, just maybe, the dragon never desired to own the princess… but to be destroyed by her.

You were Malleus’ princess, yes… but in truth, you also played the role of a dragon. It was not he who hoarded treasures or casted flames across kingdoms - it was you, with your greedy hands pulling him closer, your lips devouring his like fire hungrily kissing the edge of a temple. Your body moved against his with a need that transcended flesh, seeking friction not just for pleasure, but for something deeper… raw love. You did not fear him, as so many others did. You did not tremble before his blood or his otherworldly power. No - your soul sang for it: you craved not safety, but to give yourself wholly to the fae prince, to become the object of his longing, the creature of his most sacred desires. You longed to be undone beneath his touch - not as a victim, but as a willing offering, like a sacrifice for a mortal god. You did not wish to be saved, you wished to burn with him - your soul linked to his in a dance more precious than any crown, any throne, any fairy tale.

To say he wasn’t intrigued by this side of you would be a cruel and graceless lie. No, Malleus was enchanted. And you could see it in his eyes, those ancient emerald flames flickering with something dangerously close to amusement… and devotion. In your hunger, in the way you reached for him with reckless desire, there was no fear. And how could he not be drawn to that? How could a being so accustomed to the noble life not be captivated by the one soul who sought not his throne, nor his power, but his touch? You wanted more - more of his kisses, more of his presence, more of that strange, inhuman love he offered. It was not the love of a human prince, full of poetry and fragile promises. It was boundless as the night sky and deep as the roots of the earth. And still, he could never deny you.

Yes, Malleus Draconia, the fae prince feared across generations, held power vast enough to bend reality itself - yet in your presence, he was willing to kneel. You, who could command him with a whisper, not through magic but through the sacred weight of your longing. He would do anything you asked - not because of weakness, but because you were the one asking. And for all the histories carved in his name, all the might thrumming in his veins… he had never known a force more absolute than the spell you cast with nothing more than your gaze. He was a creature feared by many, and yet, before you, he was entirely, exquisitely at mercy.

You were straddling his lap, hands tangled at the nape of his neck as you pulled him down, as if you could tether a star to your gravity. The kiss you shared was no gentle caress - it was war, worship and surrender all at once. Tongues moved in a desperate rhythm, a dance choreographed not by grace, but by the hunger that smoldered between you. There was no time to think, no breath untouched by fire. You tried, for a moment, to keep your composure - to wear the mask of control, to remain dignified in the presence of a prince. But how could you? How could you when the man before you kissed you like he wanted to burn away every trace of that restraint? Malleus didn’t want you composed. He didn’t want your practiced elegance or polite restraint. He wanted your chaos and craving. And as he felt your body press closer, felt your fingers clutching at him with a desperation as primal as it was sacred, something within his chest stirred - a rare, fierce flutter. His heartbeat - usually slow and steady - stumbled for you… for the mortal who dared to kiss a king like she owned him. And at that moment, he welcomed it. The frenzy. The fall. The way your need fed his own… Because if this was madness, it was the kind he would gladly drown in.

Perhaps the moment you truly descended from your divine grace was the instant he entered you - slowly, yet with a hunger he could no longer restrain. There was a trembling care in his touch, as if he feared the sheer intimacy might unmake you both. And still, beneath that gentleness, a fire burned - quiet, intense. You remained astride him, your body trembling as his hips rose to meet yours, setting a rhythm that felt more like ritual than mere desire. It was a dance unbecoming of saints and angels, a liturgy of flesh that would never be sung in cathedrals - yet it was no less holy. Each thrust, each gasp, was a delicate desecration - and oh, what a beautiful sin it was. You clung to him, arms wrapped tightly around his form, seeking refuge in the one place where time and titles held no meaning. Your moans, soft and breathless at first, gave way to something more raw, more urgent - your voice lifting his name like a sacred chant.

“Malleus…”

And how sweetly you spoke it, not with fear, but with need - with love. Your voice trembled like candlelight in a darkened hall, every syllable gilded in longing. He was power incarnate, a being respected and feared - but in this moment, he was yours entirely. Yours to guide, yours to take, yours to call. And he answered not as a prince or dragon, but as a man helpless in your greedy arms. This act, wrapped in velvet darkness and moonlit grace, though born from desire, meant something deeper… something divine in its defiance. And so, if this was sin - if you had indeed fallen - it was into something far more exquisite than heaven could ever offer.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: Alchemy

Some scholars say alchemy comes from the Greek cheo, meaning “I pour” or “I cast,” since much of alchemy has to do with the working of metals.

But many believe the word comes from the Egyptian Khem, meaning “the black land” (land with black earth), and see that as indicating Egypt as alchemy’s place of origin:

The Arabic article al was added to Khem to give alchemy.

Alchemy is an ancient art, at the heart of which lies the manufacture of a mysterious substance called the Philosopher’s Stone.

Later, as the science (some call it a pseudoscience) progressed, the article was again dropped, to become chemistry.

Alchemy certainly is the early history of chemistry.

The Philosopher's Stone - the highly desirable and legendary object that is said to transform base metals—such as lead—into gold.

However, the gold in this instance symbolizes not just the valuable metal, but enlightenment and eternal life, and Alchemists are concerned with their own spiritual and personal development as well as the pursuit of the seemingly unattainable goal.

The Chinese differentiate these different kinds of alchemy as nei-tan (the alchemy of spiritual transformation) and waitan (the straightforward “lead-into-gold” type).

The motto of the Alchemists is Solve et Coagula, meaning “Solution and Coagulation.”

The work of the early Alchemists was necessarily a secretive and clandestine matter, and its secrets are still held within a rich encrustation of symbols, pictures, oblique references, double meanings, and riddles.

Alchemical symbolism features animals, birds, colors, and parables as well as archetypal symbols such as the Cosmic Egg.

The key tenets of alchemy are encompassed in something called the Smaragdina Tablet, or the Emerald Tablet.

The tablet is said to have been found by Alexander the Great in the tomb of Hermes Trismegistus (Hermes the Thrice Great) who is the founder of all things alchemical.

The Alchemical Tradition exists/existed in Ancient Egypt, China, and India, but its most recent incarnation was in medieval Europe.

Those who dabbled in alchemy include the famous and the infamous, such as John Dee (astrologer to Queen Elizabeth I), Paracelsus, Albertus Magnus, Christian Rosenkreuz, Nicholas Flamel, and Isaac Newton.

Some of the chemical treatises are befuddling to even the most learned of scholars, but the very word “alchemy” is almost in itself a symbol, conjuring up images that are magical, mystical, and marvelous.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[leighsartworks216]

How the LADS men would react to some of my favorite games

All x Reader (separately, and it's not the main focus)

Picking out games for them all was kinda difficult, bc I have so many favorites and I wasn't sure what they'd react to or how they'd react. But I'm pretty happy with these

Based on this post

Warnings: crackfic (kinda?), one horror game, slight angst with Zayne, swearing

Word Count: 1,123 (oh hell yeah)

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form (Psst fill this out to be tagged in future fics! - Updated to include Xavier)

Xavier:

I think Xavier would love The Outer Worlds

I mean,, it’s a game that takes place entirely in another solar system where you crash land in an escape pod on a strange planet and gotta figure out how people here work without letting them know you’re “not from here”

They literally call the player “The Stranger”

I think he’d love looking up at the sky in game

Every one of the sky boxes is gorgeous but Emerald Vale especially

I think he’d find a safe area in game and put it on just to stare up at the sky (and fall asleep too)

Tries to choose the best outcome for every situation

Which means fucking over the government and not feeling an ounce of guilt for it

But fucking over the underdogs even for a minute feels awful

Has to ask you which choice is better or how to get the best outcome

Scarily good at fighting with melee weapons

Esp considering the heavy reliance on guns

Accidentally min-maxes the characters

He’d also love Coffee Talk

The music is so calming he usually ends up falling asleep to it

Spends a lot of time and consideration into every drink

Draws a little bunny in the lattes every single time

Probably accidentally clocks the plot twist of the game on the very first run

Tries making you the drinks irl and uhhhh he shouldn’t

-

Zayne:

Of the games I’ve played, I think The Silent Age would be very interesting for him

Helps solve the puzzles (even if you’ve played it before)

Says he finds the art style to be “charming”

Sits through every piece of dialogue no matter how long and doesn’t go forward until he comprehends it

Gets so concerned when Joe starts coughing

Generally doesn’t like seeing the bodies

It makes him unsettled and has him thinking about those he’s lost to such gruesome deaths

The twist at the end absolutely fascinates him so much

And the SECOND twist pulls him out of it

Was lowkey hoping it would be something more… fantastical

But does have to admit that horror in the now-mundane is interesting too

I also would LOVE to watch him play Ace Attorney

Could you IMAGINE???

“This is illegal.” “I know, but so is murder.” “They don’t cancel out, you know.”

“If somebody on the witness stand is overreacting that much to one small detail, I think the judge should be a little more concerned about it.”

He’d kinda love Miles Edgeworth ngl

Understands exactly what he means with the entire “unnecessary feelings” business

Wishes the autopsy reports were more in depth, for his own amusement

Accidentally says “objection” when you’re trying to lie to him about not taking care of yourself

Can’t live it down for the next week, at LEAST

-

Sylus:

Little Nightmares, straight up

He finds the concept absolutely fascinating

Doesn’t play, but enjoys watching you play

“Careful, kitten. His long arms almost grabbed you.” “YES, THANK YOU, I NOTICED.”

Loves to see you so panicked and freaked out

Laughs if something small makes you jump out of your skin

But he does try to comfort you after chase sequences when it feels like you’re having a heart attack

Pulls you into his lap and promises to protect you

Will not complain if you choose to stay there for the rest of the game

Helps you solve puzzles if you’re struggling with them for too long

But he always asks to know if you want the answer

He doesn’t need you pouting and upset just because you couldn’t figure out how to do something relatively simple

Warns the twins not to scare you for a while

For their own safety tbh

You have a gun and you WILL use it

He’d also like watching you play Animal Crossing

You can and will bully him into joining

Will catch the scary or difficult bugs for you if you’re struggling

Doesn’t need to look up any guides to find the real artworks

The very second he can get his hands on the cat cap, it’s going to you

Might ask what color you want, but he’s more likely to pick it for you so its a surprise

Wraps it up too

“Sweetie, I got you a gift.” “Awe, really?.... Really, Sylus?” “Put it on, kitten.”

Luke and Kieran have their own town

It’s extremely flushed out and scary how impressive it is

Runs turnips with them so you have nearly a billion Bells to spend on anything you want

He lets you design his house, even if you make it silly

-

Rafayel:

Tell me why my first thought was Pokemon Art Academy

He would love it tho

Sitting on the couch together, watching over your shoulder as you follow the tutorials to draw the Pokemon

They turn out like shit but he claims to love them

Passing it over to him is a bad idea, but he won’t stop whining until you do

Creates an entire masterpiece

That creature is in a damn candid shot, shaded and everything

You should have known it was a terrible idea to show him the game

When he doesn’t feel like painting or just needs a break for his mind, he’ll play it

Honestly I see him at one of his own exhibitions, standing in the corner and playing it

Thomas complains to you about it all the time

Rafayel texts you about how much the Pokemon miss you and want you to come over :’(((

Beats the game

Somehow

Not just the lessons either, literally every single drawing they give you to do, he does it

When you look at the gallery, you can see when you stopped playing and when he took over

He’d also love Little Inferno

Sings the jingle all the time until you’re threatening him to shut up

Doesn’t honestly understand the appeal at first

He can literally make and control fire, why can’t you just give him some stuff to burn and he’ll do it for you

But he slowly gets the appeal

Especially when the batteries explode

Hates the pooping cat plushie with a passion

“If that thing ever shows up in a claw machine, we are NOT getting it.”

He either fully completes the game, combos and all, or he gets to the second catalog and gets bored, no in between

Will happily watch you play tho

Loves the way you focus on trying to decipher the clues for the combos

No shame, WILL be looking up the combinations and WILL spoil them for you just to bug you

May plan a date around throwing shit into a fireplace and watching it burn in real life

There’s a fire extinguisher nearby, just in case

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44

[voidcat]

siren!togame x sailor!reader.

gender netural reader as always. slight mention of choji if you squint. thinking about our siren wbrk talk with mari again so have this... i forgot i wrote this during my tumblr break LMAO

when you first meet the siren with emerald eyes and silky hair, you find yourself too immersed in his captivating looks that you forget why youve been staring in the first place.

he is an odd one, not a man, but one.

it's not everyday for people in your line of... business to be running into his kind, although there has been a suspicious increase in their activity, but this one piques your interest entirely and completely.

recent news about a blond siren causing havoc, all fangs and feral, already off your mind, you approach the odd one on a day neither too cloudy nor sunny- just ideal, just perfect.

pleas and concerns your crew has voiced already gone, falling on deaf ears, you approach the creature, not captivated, nor enhanced-- that is, if you dont count fascination with curiosity as a subclass of that.

you're not fazed by his lack of surprise, but make a mental note when you notice he's not the talkative type.

his kind is bold, loud and clear, showing themselves off, "hello world, i am here, see me and feed me." or that's what the widely accepted opinion of them is.

as you draw closer, you spot he is not alone on the broad rocks and rubbles. seals who exchange equally confused gazes with one another stare at you and him, taking his stance as no danger posing.

it feels weird, to have finally reached the object of your goals for the past months. long days and nights of spotting this siren that is not like any other and now here you are, face to face with him. no longer just exchanged glances by the small window of your cabin that you were certain you made up in your head.

resting his chest against his palm, he wears a smug yet gentle expression. you're unsure if it's the eyes that make it genuine or the curled up corner of his mouth that makes it cocky.

by the time you'll know him as togame and more than just an 'odd one out' of his species, it won't take you many conversations, but it'll take a long time. such as the fate of being a feeble human on a ship and a feared creature of the sea.

getting onto the edge of the rock, you take one step further, resting your elbow there, mirroring his position as you rest your chin against your fist.

"so, what has gotten a beast like you tied down to a bunch of rocks? tired of us already?"

you're odd, togame thinks. normally sailors detest his species- if they can get over their fear. anyone within their peak form would be killing for this opportunity, to capture one, get years long revenge and so on.

instead, you approach him like a sailor to a maiden back on land, after eyeing her up all night, paying for her drinks across the pub...

smiling coyly, you wait, your gaze never wavering, ignoring the odd colors in the back and the confused sounds the seals make.

"maybe it's because i've simply have something better to do." he says and you halt, "got my crew right here." he follows and watches as your smile drops, confusion taking over.

he counts, 1, 2, 3... 10 seconds it takes for your eyes to dart between the seals behind him and Togame himself- still confused, until your eyes land on shells and torn off pieces of coral spread on a flatter rock between all of them.

a game?.. you wonder, tossing what he said to the side for now, how it implies they attack simply because they're bored.

well, certainly the blond one is- at least from what you've seen, all his attacks on ships, he seems to be living off the thrill of it, not caring as long as he swims away freely at the end of the day.

"A game, then." you voice your guess, gathering your initial confidence. or maybe it's lack of care, Togame isn't sure of it just yet.

"hmmh" he hums in agreement, as he turns to exchange looks with the seals. "care to join? we can teach."

the whole exchange from start to finish feels off. distant in a corner with no one knowing your exact location- all you've learned so far, even if he said those intentionally or not, and you swear those seals are an endangered species in these waters- last seen at least a century ago.

so they come out just for him? or for all of them? the questions swarm your head, you don't even realize you've been leaning further and further, slowly, your expressions long gone, face now blank, try to decide on a dominating emotion to display.

he seems to take this as confusion and giggles. breaking his pose, he leans towards your direction and holds out his hand "no need to be afraid now, we don't bite."

and within these words alone, you know it deep down, simply and with your entire heart that he means it- no siren voice involved, no odd feelings rising.

maybe that's how they truly lure their victims. no magic voice behind it but simply their charms. yet you are ready to take your chances.

taking another step further, you take his hand and let him pull you up to the rock he's residing on, genuinely, innocently, to play a game.

[disgruntledexplainer]

Deltora, a subversion of fantasy tropes (or perhaps more accurately going back to it's roots)

@yellow-eyed-green-crocodile OK, here we go.

Deltora Quest is a children's book series. It consists of 16 books, though it exists in an expanded universe which contains another 12 books, not counting Tales of Deltora, Secrets of Deltora, and Monsters of Deltora (as well as the little-known extra book The Land of Dragons, which contains about half of what's in Tales of Deltora plus 3 additional stories which you can't find anywhere else).

The books were written during that time when Scholastic was doing it's darnedest to get kids to actually pick up a book and read. You know, the era of Animorphs, Secrets of Droon, and other books like that. Pre-harry-potter stuff. But deltora always stuck out as somewhat... odd.

For one thing, the setting. Deltora is a land absolutely INFESTED with horrifying monsters. we're talking lovecraft-level stuff. indeed, these things are so powerful that going toe-to-toe with them in conventional combat is laughably absurd. I mean, just look at this thing:

each of those little globes is a stomach the size of a PERSON. a sword ain't doin SHIT against that thing. and it wasn't even the primary monster from the book it came from. do you know what was? THE SAND IT'S STANDING ON. YES, THAT ENTIRE DESERT IS A SINGLE MONSTER.

there are also dark sorcerers, capable of, for example, turning an entire town into a fetid swamp in a split second, and deflecting any weapon directed at them. the main villain is a sorcerer of such incredible power that he makes zeus and odin look like chumps.

in order to defeat these creatures, the main characters are consistently forced to use their wits instead of their weapons.

but this isn't what I am writing this post about. every fantasy book has monsters of some kind. probably. no, what REALLY stands out about the Deltora Quest series is the BELT.

this is the Belt of Deltora, a composite magic item formed from 7 gems, each linked to the power of the land, bound together by a belt made by a simple blacksmith who united the seven tribes of deltora and became it's first king. it is considered the single most powerful mystical object on the continent, and uniting it is Deltora's only hope for survival.

except from a generic fantasy perspective, it kinda sucks.

in most generic fantasy settings, the characters are attempting to accumulate magical power which they can use to engage their enemies directly in combat; alternatively, they may be trying to build a big enough army or something similar. but the gems don't work like that. lets take a look at what the gems can actually do, shall we?

the Diamond: Gem of Strength or Fortitude, can give physical strength, fortitude, and courage to the wielder, as well as the ability to cure diseases in the person who touches it. it punishes those who attempt to take it in a dishonorable manner with misfortune. It can allow the wearer to telepathically communicate with and heal Diamond Dragons, and a nearby dragon of it's type boosts it's power, and vice versa. it also has this weird synergy with the topaz where the topaz can summon the strength of everyone who believes in the wearer (in a metaphorical sense) and the diamond transforms that belief into physical strength.

the Emerald: Gem of Honor, dulls in the presense of evil or at the location of a broken vow, is a remedy for sores and ulcers, and is an antidote to poison for whomever touches it. It can allow the wearer to telepathically communicate with and heal Emerald Dragons, and a nearby dragon of that type boosts it's power, and vice versa. Note that out of all the dragons, emerald dragons are arguably the biggest and most powerful. It might have other powers as well, as it's potential isn't as well explored as the other gems.

Lapis Lazuli: Gem of Luck or Providence, protects the wearer from evil and brings good fortune. also may have some subtle effect on the weather, though that hasn't been confirmed. it is arguably the most powerful of the gems for the protection it provides, but the nature of it's power is ill defined, and certainly outside of the wearer's ability to control. It also allows you to detect the location of the Opal as if it were a compass, and is more powerful when in close proximity to it. It can allow the wearer to telepathically communicate and heal Lapis Lazuli dragons, and a nearby dragon of that type boosts it's power, and vice versa. If the opal has it's power boosted by a nearby opal dragon, the Lapis Lazuli's power is also boosted if they are close to each other.

Topaz: Gem of Faith, can allow the wearer to make contact with the spirit world during a full moon. the character can see ghosts, and sometimes the spirits of the hallowed dead (those who are in heaven) will appear to the character and given advice, those this is extremely rare. It also clears and strengthens the mind and protects the wearer from the terrors of the night (also ill-defined). It's powers are all strengthened during the full moon. It can allow the wearer to telepathically communicate with and heal topaz dragons, and a nearby dragon of that type boosts it's power, and vice versa.

Opal: Gem of Hope, has the power to give glimpses of the future and can enhance the wearer's vision, and it can also fill the wearer with hope for the future (which helps counteract the panic that the visions of the future often produce). It can detect the Lapis Lazuli like a compass, and is more powerful when in close proximity to it. It allows the wearer to telepathically communicate with and heal opal dragons, and a nearby dragon of that type boosts it's power, and vice versa. If the Lapis Lazuli has it's power boosted by a nearby lapis lazuli dragon, the opal's power is also boosted if they are close to each-other.

The Ruby: Gem of Happiness or Love, it grows pale in the presense of evil, or when misfortune threatens it's wearer. Can be used in conjunction with the emerald to fully distinguish between danger, evil, and vow-breakers, since their powers overlap a little. It wards off evil spirits (also ill-defined) and is an antidote to snake venom, and also apparently repels snakes and venomous creatures in general. It allows the wearer to telepathically communicate with and heal ruby dragons, and a nearby dragon of that type boosts it's power, and vice versa.

The Amethyst: Gem of Truth or Wisdom, changes color in the presence of illness, pales near poisoned food or drink, and guides the wearer toward sincerity, security and peace of mind (AKA calming the wearer when touched). It also boosts the power of Toran Magic. By A LOT. It allows the wearer to telepathically communicate with and heal Amethyst dragons, and a nearby dragon of that type boosts it's power, and vice versa.

True, this is a lot of variety in powers, but with the exception of the Diamond most of this is pretty useless in combat. Especially given that the sorcerers in this world can do things like call lightning down from the sky, or create and control thousands of soldiers made out of goo. And compared to the combat capabilities of end-game weapons of other setting? it's chump change. it should be noted that the gems DO NOT allow the wielder to control dragons, only telepathically communicate with them, meaning that the King of Deltora must still negotiate to get any help, and the Dragons are rarely cooperative, even in the face of their own extinction. The gems don't give you the ability to control the elements, warp space and time, kill with a thought, fly, or turn into a glowing giant (whatever the anime adaptation might say to the contrary).

No, what the gems allow the user to do is: keep a level and clear head, detect potentially dangerous situations, and heal people of ailments.

but here's the thing; given what I said about the monsters in deltora, any of the spectacular kinds of magic would be pretty much useless. The Shadow Lord is beyond anything any mortal is capable of fighting; he has integrated his twisted will with the spirit of half a continent, and has experimenting with new and more twisted kinds of magic for thousands of years. Frankly, even by the standards of most "dark lords" like Sauron, Melkor, and Galbatorix, he is unimaginably powerful. a direct confrontation with him is laughable.

so then, why is the Belt considered one of the most powerful objects on the planet?

Well, because what it grants isn't power.

it grants FREEDOM.

freedom is defined as "the power, rooted in reason and will, to act or not to act, to do this or that, and so perform deliberate actions on one's own responsibility. By free will one shapes one's own life. Human freedom is a force for growth and maturity in truth and goodness[...]" -Catechism of the Catholic Church section 1731

in other words, Freedom, properly defined, is not the ability to do what one wants; that is power, not freedom. Freedom is the ability to do what one NEEDS to do. Freedom to protest. Freedom to preach. Freedom to worship. Freedom to defend oneself both physically and legally. These are freedoms.

Now lets look again at what the belt enables one to do. It allows one to clear and calm one's mind and strengthens one's will, heals, protects from certain kinds of danger, and allows one to heal others. These are not powers, they are FREEDOMS.

oh yeah, and I forgot one more of these freedoms:

WHEN ALL THE GEMS ARE PUT IN THE BELT TOGETHER, THEY PRODUCE A MAGICAL SCREEN WHICH BANISHES DARK MAGIC AND THOSE WHOSE SOULS ARE TAINTED BY IT.

it is not combat power, but it is a power FAR GREATER THAN ANY COMBAT POWER COULD EVER FEASIBLY BE

In a sense, this subverts normal fantasy tropes by going back to its roots. When JRR Tolkien wrote the Lord of the Rings, he wrote a book about simple working class and middle class people defeating an evil by DESTROYING POWER (with a One Ring being a kind of stand-in for power itself in all it's forms). yet, it seems that every writer since has taken a look at his work and gone "look at all this cool world-building and monsters and magic! but the protagonists and themes are kinda lame. I KNOW, i'll REPLACE those complex and nuanced themes with EDGY GRIZZLED WARRIORS AND POWER-HUNGRY SORCERERS, and make the story all about CONSOLIDATING AS MUCH POWER AS POSSIBLE TO DEFEAT SOMEONE WHO HAS ALSO CONSOLODATED AS MUCH POWER AS POSSIBLE, BUT IN AN EVIL WAY. sometimes they even have their characters performing actions which are completely morally bankrupt (razing cities, killing civilians or surrendering enemies, etc), and justify it because "main villain is worse". because in other words, most fantasy writers decided to completely rip off all of tolkien's world, down to the very creatures that inhabit it, but HORRIBLY INVERT the themes

Meanwhile, Deltora seems to do the opposite. It doesn't copy Tolkien's world. there are similarities; the Shadow Lord is kinda like Sauron if you squint a little. but the world is populated with plenty of creatures that don't line up at all, and even those that are similar are only superficially so. meanwhile, Emily Rodda (the author) took a look at Tolkien's themes, smiled and nodded, and proceeded to ELABORATE UPON THEM. The kingdom of deltora fell because the rulers detached themselves from the needs of the common man and physically separated themselves from them out of cowardice. the shadow lord twists and destroys nature to produce his horrific experiments which mirror in many ways modern genetic engineering. the battle is won not through force of arms, but through planning, cleverness, and uniting the tribes under a common cause.

there are other things, like how each gem corresponds to one of the seven virtues, or how so much emphais is put on using logic to solve problems, and similar things, but this post is long as it is, so i'm going to stop here.

[donelywell]

ANGEL ISLAND October 2

As soon as they land on the previously floating island, Knuckles clocks Sonic in the face, making him drop all of the Chaos Emeralds he has.

Once Knuckles spots how dull the Emeralds are, he yells a storm at Sonic. Sonic crankily yells back that it’s all Eggman’s fault that this happened, he just fell for his bait. Knuckles laughed at this, calling Sonic feeble minded, but Sonic retorts that Knucklehead has fallen for his lies way more times than he has. Chip looks confused and scared as the 2 go quickly from fighting words to fists and kicks. Tails just looks tired, quickly breaking up the fight by reminding Knuckles that they’re here because he sent him a call about the Master Emerald acting strange.

While waiting for Tails to finish running a diagnosis on the Master Emerald, Sonic got bored and challenged an arm wrestling competition with Knuckles. After the arm wrestling, Sonic goes off and gives Chip a tour of Angel Island.

>Minigame

(You play as Sonic arm wrestling Knuckles, Chip is the referee.

The objective is to be faster than Knuckles can react when Chip says 'Go!' If you're faster than Knuckles' reaction time, then you win! If not, he absolutely destroyed you at arm wrestling.

And there is no cost to entering the mini game, but there is a risk/ reward situation.

If you win, you collect the rings Knuckles drops from the damage, if Knuckles wins, you lose some rings from taking damage.

You can enter the mini game at any time outside of playing acts after you make it to Angel Island.)

Tails and Knuckles go to the Master Emerald Temple to run a diagnostic. Turns out, the Master Emerald has power, but it seems to be locked away for some reason. So it’s basically just a glowing gemstone at the moment, unless you have a connection with it like Knuckles, but it only sounds like muffles to him at the moment.

Knuckles realizes that Tails is worried about something else, but he’s not sure what. But instead of asking and possibly making the kit uncomfortable (like he has done before), he just simply pet the kit’s head and purrs (Knuckles' purrs are very low). It always seems to help him relax.

> Angel Island Day Act 1

(Sonic just runs around Angel Island, use this as a way to help adjust to the controls)

Meanwhile, Sonic and Chip are having a tour of the floating island, with the final stop being one of the many Chao Gardens there. Chip immediately takes a liking to the place, and the Chao like him too. They all eat plenty of fruit and play around until Sonic gets a message from the communicator that it’s time to head back to the Temple.

When Sonic and Chip return, they catch Knuckles and Tails trying to find a way to recharge the Chaos Emeralds. The theory is that when the Chaos Emeralds are recharged, the Master Emerald might unlock its power and connections again.

Knuckles tries to remember an ancient writing he read once while patrolling Angel Island years ago, but Eggman destroyed it when he crash landed on the island back in Sonic 3 & Knuckles. He does recall something about Gaia healing the Emeralds though. Sonic pops in saying he heard Eggman talk about the ‘Gaia Manuscripts’, but he isn’t too sure since he was in a lot of pain at the time. Tails has a bright idea.

Tails races back to the Tornado, explaining that he met a Professor in Spagonia who specializes in researching the Gaia Legends, if anyone can help them with this predicament, it’s him. Knuckles and Chip straggle behind, with Knuckles grumbling that Tails should really stop getting these traits from Sonic. (Knuckles joined the party!)

Apotos

Spagonia/ Mazuri

[llondonfog]

Wailing about “you love me so you’ll love my child” but w melleanor and silver

"—and do not let Vanrouge within twenty meters of the kitchens, is that clear, Counselor? Inform the kitchen staff that they have my exact permission to maim him on sight with the nearest sharp object. Oh, do not duck your face like a quivering kitten as if I cannot see that grimace, Counselor— that man has survived much worse and scraped through with life and limb and still persists to terrorize us all with his presence, isn't that right, my dear one?"

From within her arms, Lilia's child coos and babbles something far more intelligent than her trailing, fretful advisors back at her, and she taps a dark painted talon delicately against its plush cheek in fond agreement.

Lilia's child.

Meleanor rolls the words silently within her mouth, holds them there to taste the strange, but pleasant, flavor of their meaning.

Of all the fae in all their lands, who would have ever dared to dream that Lilia Vanrouge would take to a child like a fish to water, or a fledgling to the skies?

She can still hear him now, grumbling and griping so about the burden of children, their helplessness and neediness as unnecessarily weak creatures. In a rare form of mercy, not once did she pry— for how could she, when she knew the answer even if it was not in specifics? When fae were perishing at the hands of humankind's avaricious cruelty, how could she dare chastise him when she was so certain that Lilia's bitterness only existed towards himself?

Her hypothesis had been proven correct when her most trusted General had been present for Malleus' hatching, a softness that she had only seen once before smoothing the harsh lines of his battle-weary gaze. Perhaps she had the right of bias; it was only correct that anyone melt at the sight of her darling son, chirping and mewling miniature fonts of emerald flame.

But that softness had reappeared tenfold when Lilia had knelt before her in the privacy of her chambers where no other fae save for two were ever allowed, revealing the swaddled contents of his cloak with a desperate, fervent need for approval.

He woke for me, she remembers her oldest friend confessing in a voice choked with awe and an emotion that had nearly frightened her (her!) with its intensity. Meleanor, do you understand what this means? He is the son of our enemy, lost and forgotten by time, and he woke for me.

Oh, she had understood as perfectly then as she does now. It was for that reason alone that she had stayed her hand from where it had been readied to smite the child from Lilia's arms, to strip it from existence out of fear that it had somehow bewitched the one fae with more reason to detest humanity than all the rest.

True love was so rare in this world; it had taken her centuries to find her heart's desire. How could she wrest that from Lilia, as he kneels before her and bares his soul, staring down at the sleeping infant cradled in his arms with a delicate strength she did not know him to possess and the dazed look of a parent struck with the dazzling knowledge that the child they hold is more perfect than any creature alive on the earth?

She could not— the proof of which rests in her arms and happily teethes on strands of her gleaming hair, warm and soft and heavy in the sweet way of babes.

"And that is why we cannot allow your pathetic wretch of a father to ruin the celebration of your first blessing, isn't that right— Silver?"

[novankenn]

What kind of drunk do you think Salem is?

Interesting... I wonder? MWHAHAHAHAHA let my brain CREATE!!!

/==/

Cinder's face was ashen with dread. She had just received a notice from Watts, that their Queen... Salem would be visiting to "inspect" Cinder's operations in Vale. Only one problem, aside from the fact that evil incarnate was going to be dropping in for a friendly visit... Salem apparently had arrive and has been in Vale for a full fourteen hours!

Cinder pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, trying to calm herself down as she picture whether she was going to immolate Watt's balls or his hair first. The sound of her scroll ringing, drew her from her pleasant plotting of Arthur Watts demise.

Cinder: Roman? What are you...

Roman: I found your boss lady...

Cinder: What? Where? How? WHERE?

Roman: Ah... which of those questions do you really want answered first?

Cinder: WHERE?

Roman: Junior's Club.

Cinder: Say what?!?

Roman: She's at Junior's Club... (hung up on)

Cinder: EMERALD! MERCURY! TO JUNIOR'S NOW!!!

/==/

It took the trio ten minutes to get from the safe house to Junior's. The bouncers well aware of who they were stepped aside instantly to let them enter. Inside they found the place packed with costumed party goers...

Mercury: Well that accounts for the lack of city wide panic...

Cinder: Just find her and start BEGGING as soo as you do!

Emerald: Uh... um... Cinder?

Cinder: WHAT?!?

Emerald: Over there...

Cinder followed the direction of Emerald's outstretched hand and blanched. There straddling the knees of a young blond man was her boss... the Queen of the Grimm.

Mercury: Is she letting him do body shots?

Cinder: Preposterous! She would never...

Emerald: Yep! That was a booby-shot if I ever saw one.

Cinder: Ah... urkk... arrrr... let's... let's go.

The trio shouldered their way through those party goers that stood, or rather danced between them and their destination. Cinder ground her teeth as the closer they became the more truthful Mercury's observation was. Salem, the Queen of the Grimm. Evil Incarnate, an Immortal Witch of unparalleled power was allowing some blond haired buffoon to pluck shot glasses from between her breasts with his... mouth.

Salem: (hic) Soooo... much (hic) funny! (hic)

????: (hic) you... you... (hic) is beau... beauti... beautiful! (hic)

Cinder: Ahem! Miss...

Salem: CINDY! (hic)

Cinder: ...

Mercury: ...

Emerald: ...

Cinder and her associates watches as Salem, Evil Incarnate struggled to rise from her perch on the young man's lap, only to stumble and pull the young man from his seat and send them both crashing to the floor... and erupt in a fit of giggles and laughter.

Cinder: Cindy?

Mercury: ...

Emerald: ...

Salem: (hic) you... you... (hic) were... were... um (hic)... um...

????: right? (hic)

Salem: (hic) Yeppers! (hic)

The highly intoxicated pair struggled to their feet, and stood there grinning drunkenly at each other as they weaved, totally ignoring the presence of Cinder, Emerald and Mercury.

Salem: Dances (hic) Jauney? (hic)

Jaune: (hic) Okay! (hic)

Cinder: ...

Emerald: ...

Mercury: ...

The pair vanished into the crowd on the dance floor.

/==/

Seventeen hours later, Cinder and her team were forced to exfil Salem from not only the motel room she had shacked up in, but also Vale's proper. The whole ordeal throwing Cinder's careful preparations out the window.

/== 3 Months Later ==/

Mercury is sitting with Jaune at a "Noodles are Us" stall. The two having become fast friends after the events of that fated night.

Mercury: So how was she when you met her?

Jaune: Sad, lonely. She needed someone to talk to, and cheer her up.

Mercury: Oh... cheer her up? Is that what you kids are calling it?

Jaune: (blushing) I said I was...

The clatter of a something plastic landing on the counter interrupted Jaune's rebuttal. He turned his head and smiled.

Jaune: Cindy! Would you like to...

Cinder said nothing but pointed to the counter and the plastic object she had tossed there. Confused Jaune picked it up... and then fainted.

Cinder: Please pick him up, and bring him with you. We're leaving.

Mercury: Huh? What's going on? What about the plan?

Cinder: Cancelled. Now please pick up the Queen's "Baby-Daddy" and let's get out of here.

Mercury: ...

/==/

Utter & Complete Insanity Story Collection

/==/

A/N So I think I went off the rails here... and missed the mark... but ENJOY!

[ravenwriter16]

Lune: *after trotting out of the lecture hall with its prize, it vanishes into the shadows. Only to reappear in an unoccupied room of the castle & into the closet.*

Sol: * rearranges a nest of blankets and filled to the brim with its & Lunes hord. Anything that was star shaped as well as several star mana crystals.*

Sol & Lune: *after adding its newest prize the 2 cuddle up contently with their star cut ears lineing up.*

(Will draw this at a latter date lol. So if u wanna give an example of what the mana crystals look like)

/Previous/

*The gems glow white. The sphere looking rocks had small bumps, some being sharp points*

Eclipse: *Walks into room* Where did I put that book...

Eclipse: *Looks over the room until eyes land on the closet* Did I...

Eclipse: *Walks over and opens closet. Looks down at Sol and Lune and the crazy amount of Star Mana Stones.* Oh boy...

Eclipse: *Kneels down and picks one stone up* So THIS is where all these things have been going...Do you both just like shiny objects? I could give you some less dangerous gems if that's the case.

Eclipse: *Snaps his fingers and dark red light wraps around the mana stones, replacing them with sparkling emeralds, diamonds, rubies and sapphires.*

Sol & Lune: *Look up at him*

Eclipse: *Smiles and holds up a finger to his lips* Let's keep this our little secret, okay?

[karasucatt]

Hello!

So, I was scrolling back through your posts (getting distracted looking at Sonic fanart), and I noticed an AU of yours called the "Free Wind AU."

I'm intrigued. What exactly is this AU (because my first thought was something like a mermaid/siren AU)? What kind of lore do you have for it?

I would really like to hear more about it (if you want to share)!

Have a wonderful day/night! 💜

I really love your art style, btw. And the Fae AU you have going on!

(...looking through your pinned post. I'm gonna go through all the AUs you have linked, lol)

Okay okay I wanted to draw more Free Wind AU and actually write it (I have one chapter already pre written I’m waiting to write more and also get further in my current wips) but I love it so much so I WILL lore dump

‼️Spoilers ahead if you just wanna wait for the fic/art/idk‼️

Okay so I came up with the concept after reading Tides of Chaos while listening to atla and went “Wait… What if Sonic absorbed a chaos emerald and literally just became one?” Similar to how Yue is tied to the moon spirit.

The AU is ment to kinda be silly with some potc vibes while also being kinda dark since Sonic was taken from his home and pretty much raised as an object from the ripe age of eight. He’s saved from his situation on his 20th bday by a bunch of pirates who were like “dude wtf??” Becuase they’ve done bad things but the condition Sonic was in was worse (Starline is the master of medical malpractice)

Shadow is a mer with a bad leg in his ‘land’ form so he uses his sword as both a weapon and a cane. He got his injury escaping Black comet, a cult dead set on making the second coming of Chaos and they believed that Mer were the key to that. They had two test subjects, Shadow and another Mer named Maria. In their escape Maria was injured to the point she couldn’t shift to her Mer form. Due to this, she’s extremely weak thanks to her connection to the ocean being cut off.

She lives with her and Shadows savior, a human Professor named Gerald whom had been exiled from his home to the remote island ARK, while Shadow sails the seven seas as a pirate.

That’s what I’ve got for now so yeah!! Thanks for letting me rant lol

[jonnysinsectcatalogue]

Ebony Jewelwing - Calopteryx maculata

This is one of the most beautiful and eye-catching specimens to behold in Ontario. This specie is easily recognizable thanks to its lustrous green body (which may be more prominent in males and more subdued in females) and broad wings which are all dark or have a smoky look. Actually, if you look closer at the leading (forwardmost) edge of the wings, you may notice that they too are emerald colored! Other North American Calopteryx species may appear similar in terms of form an iridescence, such as the Sparkling Jewelwing (C. dimidiata) and the Superb Jewelwing (C. amata). However, from the images I've seen, all of these Broad-winged Damselflies have some degree of distinctly clear wings. They might have a small patch or section on the wings that are black, but the majority of them are otherwise clear (aside from their veins), much like typical Odonates. Looks like identifying this beautiful summer flier is quite simple then. Look for them perching by water and occasionally fluttering to find a better spot. If you intend to photograph such a beautiful Damselfly, approach them slowly and remain persistent. They're always watching out for things around, friend and prey alike, and they have no plans to walk to a new location, only to fly as their legs aren't suitable for walking. Instead, the legs are better equipped to grasp, land, perch and climb up plants or similar vertically pointing objects.

It's worth noting that the wings of the Ebony Jewelwing actually darken over time after it emerges from the water and fully matures and spend more time perching and flying. If you compare the first 6 pictures to the remaining 4, you can see this for yourself. Individual variation is always a factor, but it's likely the individual from 2022 was relatively "fresher" compared to the one from 2024. While the wings may darken, the white spot on the female's pterostigma - seen in both of these two stunning individuals - will always remain. Since the wings of this summer Damselfly are dark colored in both males and females, I sometimes wonder how significantly their wings contribute to their thermoregulation as they bask in the sun. With their smoky to dark shading and their surface area, the wings are likely powerful absorbers and radiators of heat as the insect perches. Furthermore, looking at the perching positions of these individuals' abdomens in these images while at rest (sometimes between the wings, sometimes not), the abdomen may be shifting to try and minimize prolonged exposure to heat. It's also worth considering that the more metallic/reflective bodies of male Ebony Jewelwings deflect heat differently compared to the darker bodies of the females (although these individuals were quite gleaming). Food for thought, I suppose, and maybe it's something I can look for the next time these insects are spotted fluttering by the neighborhood stream.

Pictures were taken on July 8, 2022 and July 1, 2024 with a Google Pixel 4.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 2000

Warnings: none

Part XXII | Part XXIV

The first night sleeping alone in your cottage didn't turn out well. Horrors of your past reappeared and you had to again watch getting your mother killed. It was that kind of dream you couldn't wake up from even though you wanted to, and you probably made too much noise.

"Y/N," slightly hoarse, but soft voice called for you, cold and wet snout touching your face. "Y/N."

Even without opening your eyes, you knew who it was. Hot tears slid down your face, uncontrollable sobs the only sound breaking the silence of the night. The nightgown soaked in cold sweat, stuck uncomfortably to your body. You were trembling. One heavy paw touched your forearm, then gently embraced you. The snout sniffed your face and cheeks, licking your tears away with small cat-like licks.

You moved closer to him, hiding your face in the fur of his neck as you held onto him. He didn't speak, your name and a few short simple words were the only thing he managed to say so far. But under your cheek you heard the frantic beats of his heart. He was probably worried. Your throat was sore as if you screamed for a long time. You must have scared him.

"I'm sorry," you sobbed. He shook his head and made a small whimpering sound. Tamlin moved, carefully climbing into your bed. The old bed creaked under his weight. He was so huge that only a small space was left on mattress for you. You two had to huddle together to fit in, but you didn't mind. He tugged you closer, holding you with paws as best as he could in this form, you hugged his torso.

This helped, his closeness and warmth scared the fear away and eventually you calmed down enough to fall asleep again, lulled by the sound of his rhythmic heartbeat and deep breaths.

You opened your eyes and looked around the foggy rose garden. You knew this place, you already visited it once in your dream. Without hesitation you headed to the pedestal where you found Tamlin last time. This time it was empty. You wanted to call out his name, but your throat closed up and no voice came out. You tried it again with the same result.

You slowly twisted around, hoping to see him somewhere nearby, but instead your eyes landed on a sprawling tree with low branches. It definitely wasn't here last time. There was something you couldn't explain, that drew you to the tree and so you followed your instinct. The tree seemed to be very old, its trunk was covered with soft green moss. Sighing you ran fingers over it and a few drops of a dew rolled all the way down to your wrist.

"Why are you crying, Y/N?" Well-known voice came from somewhere behind the tree. You hurried there, expecting to find him sitting down between roots. What a disappointment when you didn't find anyone. Did he play a hide-and-seek with you?

"Why are you crying, my pretty rose?" A hand reached down from a branch above your head, his long fingers wiped a tear off from your cheek. Your gaze snapped up in surprise. There he was, half lying half sitting on the branch, looking down at you. Tamlin looked sad, his emerald eyes dimly shining in the shadow.

"You're awake," you breathed out. His face still reminded a cold stone of statue, but there was a hint of life in his eyes.

"Have somebody hurt you?" His mind seemed to be just as hazed like the last time, but at least he was awake now.

"No.. it's just.. a memory.."

"Memories," his glazed eyes were gazing to the distance straight through you. "I have a lot of painful ones. Like the day you left.."

"I've returned," you squeezed his hand lingering on your cheek. "Do you hear me? I'm here with you now."

"No one comes back to me.." his voice was deep and cold now. You wanted to object, but the dream faded away.

You woke up in embrace of strong arms holding you on a naked broad chest that gently brushed your cheek with every breath. You were still tired. Sleep was the only thing you craved now, luring you to the world of dreams once again. You closed your eyes, pressing into the warmth of the smooth skin.

Wait!

Your eyes snapped open wide, your hazy mind cleared.

Hands? Chest? Skin? Could it be?

You abruptly sat up. Tamlin groaned in his sleep, his face half hidden under the messy strands of blond hair. His hands reached for you, trying to pull you back down.

"No, Tamlin, wake up," you pushed against him, overexcited with the sudden improvement.

One emerald eye cracked open a bit, gazing up on you. With another groan his long form curled around you, naked as the day he was born. You gasped, your face, ears and even neck set ablaze. You tried to avoid looking down where you could feel his manhood pressed to your hip, the thin nightgown hardly a barrier between you.

"Tamlin," you stiffened. His name came out in a high pitched tone.

Finally, he woke up. As soon as he noticed the state of his body, he fled from the bed and taking the pillow with him, he pressed his back against the wall and the pillow to his intimate parts. He watched you startled, trying to find his voice.

"It's okay," you stuttered, looking everywhere but him. "I ..saw nothing."

He blinked and fought a smirk that threatened to spread on his face. "I know," he rasped. Even though he could speak again, it seemed to cause him problems.

"Do-does it hurt? I mean your throat," you asked. Meanwhile you took a spare blanket from small basket at the foot of the bed, offering it to him. He accepted it with a small smile. You turned to the window and looked out to give him privacy. It was cloudy and windy morning, although you didn't notice any of it. Your mind kept swirling around the expanse of smooth skin you just saw and quite impressive length you felt.

"A little bit." He touched your elbow. Carefully you looked back at him. The blanket was wrapped around his hips, too low and showing too much of his skin, but it was better than before.

"I'll brew you a tea that will make you feel better. When Lucien comes I'll ask him to find you some clothes, but until then this have to be enough."

"Thank you."

His eyes roamed over your body as if he saw you for the first time after a very long time. You felt too underdressed and too self aware under his piercing gaze. You crossed arms on your chest in a poor attempt to hide at least something.

You cleared your throat. "I-I think I should change," you choked out, nervously fidgeting.

However Tamlin didn't move a bit, his eyes still fixed on you. You swallowed hard, your heart rate increasing. He took the last step that separated you, and swept you into a tight embrace. Your lungs filled with a rain and earthen scent, the most comforting smell ever. Pressing his nose to the crook of your shoulder, he shakily inhaled.

"It's really you," he murmured. "I thought I just dreamed you out."

Your heart melted at those words and you hugged him back. "This isn't dream. I've returned."

He stilled. "How long can you stay?" he whispered, his voice dull.

"As long as I want," you laughed.

His body relaxed. "Thanks the Mother," he sighed. His embrace tightened so much you couldn't breathe.

You patted his shoulder. "Tam, I can't-.."

"I'm sorry." His grip little bit loosened. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah."

His fingers tangled in your hair, stroking them lightly. "I missed you," he rasped after a while.

"Really?"

"Really."

"I missed you, too," you whispered in a small voice. "So many things happened.."

"Did.. did he treat you well?" You knew who the he was.

"Well, yes. They all were kind to me. My brother especially." There was probably something in your voice that wasn't so convincing. You felt a small sting at your back as Tamlin's claws came out.

"Uhm, I apologise," his hands fell down from the small of your back, untangling from your hair and he stepped back hiding them behind his back. You stopped him, pulling on his wrists and entangled your fingers with his. It felt so right that you had to smile. He seemed to be confused.

"I hoped you would come to see me," you swallowed, smile disappearing.

"I-.. I couldn't," he looked down to his bare feet, ashamed.

"I know, so I came to you."

Tamlin kissed the back of your hand, pressing it to his cheek. "I dreamed about you often. So often that I sometimes couldn't tell the reality from dream," he admitted.

"I had a few vivid dreams, too. They helped me at times."

He frowned. "Helped?"

"Yes, I didn't remember a thing until recently. It was hard to adjust to so many strangers and unfamiliar house and everything at first. It got better when Rhys helped me with the memory loss."

A muscle twitched in his jaw. But before he could say something, the door downstairs opened and closed.

"Are you awake yet?" Lucien called. "I've brought some fresh bread for breakfast and even picked up some of those herbs you use in tea."

Tamlin gave you a tight smile that promised you would continue another time. You nodded.

"Give me a minute," you shouted. Tamlin left your room, so you could change. You thought he would go down to talk with Lucien, but when you opened the door, he stood there waiting for you.

You found Lucien seated at table, swaying on the back legs of chair, hands behind his neck.

He turned to you with fox-like grin, some teasing remarks already on the tip of his tongue. When he saw frowning Tamlin with hands crossed on his bare chest standing behind you, his eyes widened. He lost balance and fell down, hitting his back and head hard enough to see stars.

When he was getting off the ground grunting, you started to laugh, immediately followed by Tamlin's deeper laughter. Lucien muttered something about naked beasts, gentlemen and ladies and winnowed away. In few minutes he returned with arms full of clothes. While Tamlin dressed in your room you prepared breakfast. Lucien, of course, helped you.

"How did you do that?" he muttered with undeniable interest.

You shrugged. "I did nothing. When I woke up in the morning, he was already.. back."

"I knew that you could help him, but I've never even imagined that he could improve so fast. He was.. completely gone. At this rate I think soon I'll be able to return to my friends. They already miss me, you know."

You wished you could say something, but there was nothing. You've grown fond of him these past few weeks. He was easy going person, chatty, funny at times, it was hard not to like him. But he had his own life to live. You knew he wouldn't stay forever.

"What is that face for," he teased you. "Already miss me?"

You rolled your eyes and grinned.

Fortunately, Tamlin was back and could speak again. You wouldn't stay alone with nothing to do and haunted by your past.

A single thought of your High Lord and the sight you got that morning made your pulse quicken and cheeks flush. When he returned dressed in simple green trousers and white shirt you almost spilled the tea you were setting on the table. You wondered what had changed. Why your body started to react to him like this so suddenly.

Unable to come with any explanation, you seated down and stuffed your mouth with bread that Lucien brought. The three of you ate in unusual silence.

Taglist: @impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot @acourtofimagines @harahettania