#v: blue red green skies

[wingboundwarrior]

Magic...

Ah. She should have known. He is bettering himself in the use of magic. Obviously. And just as a pegasus knight must work with mercenaries before they can join a squadron, he, too, did his share of mercenary work. The concern that’d been burning through her is eased, for the moment.

Interesting, though, that the study of magic is, indeed, so tied to the study of religion, to nature itself. She wonders if he — like most people from that side of the continent — believe in Saint Elimine and her God, or if he prays to the Mother Earth and Father Sky. Perhaps he prays to no one at all. She hopes his life is not so mired in misery that he’d’ve come to the same conclusions as her, though...

“Forgive me for not noticing. Your ability speaks to your dedication to your craft.” Her smile is kind, but... somewhat tiny. She wonders what the end point is, for him, if it isn’t to work as a mercenary one day. Honing his skill, for... what? “So... that is the only reason you fight in this company? To keep Lady Priscilla safe?”

My Lord’s Son

[barbieaemond]

A snake in the bosom

Moodboard by the queen herself @zae5

PAIRING: Prince Regent Aemond x Lady!reader

WARNINGS: dark Aemond, angst, public humiliation, semi public sex, p in v, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), religious kink, knife kink if you squint, overstimulation, light choking.

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

Author’s note: House Peake were green loyalists during the Dance. Shout out to @zae5 who helped me brain storming this filth 🫶

taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @chompchompluke

The skies rumble as they always do when preluding a storm. But it’s different this time. The thunder echoes in your chest, sliding through your ribs and then rattling them to break free.

A warning, the Gods’ way to seal what cannot be undone. They greet this new day, this new order, with blinding lightning. The Wood seems bathed by the early morning light, and yet the owls will soon resume their sentry task on the branches of these ancient trees.

A new flash forces you to look up and you think you can see them, the Seven, leaning out from their perches, pointing a finger at a woman like any other, with her bowed head devoted to obedience and her tight corset to choke to death any desire inside her heart.

And you did.

You stopped going to the library, you kept your eyes faithfully down, weeding out the need to caress the silver through your gaze, to feel the cold alabaster carved into angles so precise and sharp as to be exhausting.

You stopped lingering on the delicacy of long white fingers turning pages, on white knuckles around the sword, rippling with veins, blue and green as snakes crawling underneath. 

Not looking didn't do much good.

It's all burned into your eyelids, and the more you don't look the more your mind betrays you like a stab in the back, evoking slender hands and an arched mouth that lazily pulls itself up into an omniscient smirk.

It happens so often that you've come to terms with it. Desire is a shadow that follows you step by step, crawls into your bed as you lie with your husband, makes you close your eyes as you peak and in the darkness that shadow is finally flesh, pulsing and weighing on you, but it is not.

It shouldn’t and it will never.

The lightning tells you can no longer hide, there is no way to stall now, no way to trick the King about the allegiance of your family. It is easy to fool a fool, more so when he’s willing to make himself one in front of a woman. But the King is burned. His cries of pain can be heard outside Maegor’s Holdfast, until the Maesters are merciful enough to give him milk of the poppy.

The throne is empty, the Kingdom has no ruler. But the Gods are snickering with thrill and dread.

Not for long.

“My lady, there’s a storm coming.”

You turn and see your maid clutching a cloak to her chest to shelter from the wind. "Please, you should go back inside.”

You nod tiredly, walking on the thick grass, dragging yourself back within these walls in which days seem to pass following two different times.

There’s the real, urgent one, a military up and down of whispers and promises, pawns moving and ravens coming and going, breaking or forging alliances as easy and quick as their wings flapping. And then there’s your time, dilated, obscenely slow, like molasses. It sticks to your fingers, prevents you from picking up ink and parchment and write, cheat, whisper what you have easily spilled from the worn out lungs of your husband.

“Men sing like parrots in their final throes, remember that. They’d tell you anything when they think with their cock.”

Samantha had been right. But your sister is playing her game in Oldtown and Old Town is not the Red Keep. There are no eyes on the walls there, or ears behind the portraits. There’s no shadow trailing on her path, clouding her mind enough to look away from the game. A game of life and death, your father reminded you in his last letter, the scolding clear in the way the feather had pierced the parchment in some points. The answer was nowhere but in your head, and you were too ashamed to even confess it to a Septa, let alone put it on paper. There’s a snake crawling in your garden of lies and instead of chasing it away, you’re nursing it in your bosom.

You slow your steps upon glimpsing your husband. He’s striding towards you along the corridor. There’s a slight furrow between his brows, one that you have been able to recognize on the faces of many within this fortress. But it's more severe now, or maybe it's just that shadow that makes you see a new man, a stranger.

Has his hair always been that dull and mousy? Has his posture always been so unassuming?

They have since that night in the library, the sin whispers.

“Husband.”

“I’ve been looking for you. We have been summoned to the throne room.”

“Is something the matter? Is the King—"

"The King lives. But the Maesters believe it is best to confine him to bed. Come, Prince Aemond is waiting for us." he grabs your arm and you walk with him, glad that he can’t see the shadow falling on your face at the mention of the King’s brother.

The throne room is so dark that servants are hurrying themselves to light more candles. Every now and then a new lightning flashes from the large windows, making the Iron Throne an eerie sight at the center of the Hall.

There are a few Lords of the court with their ladies, and they seem just as lost as you as they see you and your husband halting before the ancient seat.

Whereas not more than a moon ago, Lords and Ladies would have had to wait hours to be received by Aegon, the new ruler is not long in coming.

The huge doors open and Aemond Targaryen stalks the room carrying the same storm breaking outside. He makes a striking figure, ominous; the lighting pours on his long silver hair making them look like moon rays.

A dreamy picture, were it not for the conqueror's crown on his head and the sapphire in plain sight.

It is the first time you see him without the eyepatch, the first time anyone has seen him without it. They said he wore it so as not to frighten the ladies, but the one-eyed Prince is done hiding. And if fear is all he can muster, so be it. It serves him well for what will come.

He halts before the Iron Throne and takes a good look at the little gathering. You can’t help but trail your eyes on his lean and tall figure, wearing a dark green doublet made of velvet. But it’s the sapphire that catches your eye, and the long scar marring his marbled face.

You remember that one. You remember it shamefully clear while disappearing along with his head beneath your gown.

“My lords” he starts lacing his hands behind his back “As you may know, my brother is in no condition to rule. Thus, according to the law, in case of physical or mental incapacity of the sovereign, the younger brother must bear the weight of the crown.”

There is a shy, almost uneasy passing of glances between those present, but Aemond ignores them altogether. “I will not style myself as King. You will address me as Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm."

Silence falls upon the huge Hall until a loud thunder seem to awaken one of the lords who hurriedly bends his knee before the Prince. "My Prince, I renew my absolute loyalty to you and your—“

"Get up, my Lord, I did not summon you to hear you pledge your loyalty.” He says in a bored tone, darting his eye at the man “Rest assured, if I had any doubt about it, Vhagar would be feasting on your corpse as we speak.”

Silence falls once more and Aemond revels in it. He can smell fear, just like the creature he rides. “But you did raise an interesting subject.” he tilts his head and looks at Lord Peake, your husband, with a benevolent expression stretching on his face. “Lord Peake, if I asked you to pledge your loyalty to me and my family, would you do it?”

You dare not to raise your head, keeping your eyes glued to the ground, but you can sense your husband’s uneasiness, the sound close to one being insulted as he addresses the Prince. “Prince Aemond, my loyalty to your Grandsire and the Dowager Queen has never wavered and it never shall.”

The Prince nods slowly, seemingly pleased by the answer, and keeps his gaze down for a few moments before casting a sharp glance at you. You can’t see it but you can feel it.

“That is very noble of you, Lord Peake. But I can’t help but wonder, is your lady wife of the same mind as you?”

Lord Peake looks puzzled, shifting the weight on his feet “My Prince, my wife is—”

“No.” Aemond cuts him off, darting a single look at the Lord before returning on you “Let her speak.”

With a deep breath, you look up, shrinking under his violet eye and the sapphire ominously glinting of his own light. “My prince, I am saddened that your Grace would think I’m nothing but loyal to your brother, the one and only heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Every day, I pray the Gods to heal him from his burns and give him strength to—”

“Hush.” He says, raising a hand to stop you. “That’s enough.”

You shut your mouth nervously, tensing all the more as he looks at you, unblinking, for a long moment before his lips stretch into a slow, cunning smirk.

“You know, I spoke to your distant cousin once, Lord…something Tyrell. He said something very interesting to me.”

You keep a blank face even when dread starts to run down your spine. Despite the distant kinship, there’s always been bad blood between Tarlys and Tyrells. 

“He said to be very careful with Tarly women. Pretty vapid things, he said, hiding a viper’s bite.”

“I am neither my prince.” you state calmly “I’m just a woman like any other, serving my husband, my house, my King.”

“Hmm.” He ponders, the smile lingering still. Then, he picks something form his pocket and asks “What is this then?”

Despite the darkness, you could recognize that seal with eyes closed. And that seal, now, in this room, clutched by Prince Aemond’s fingers, is a death sentence.

“This is not the seal of House Peake.” he rightly says.

You look down, mustering your courage, and say “No, your Grace. That is just a silly token of love between two sisters. I use it to send ravens to my sister in Oldtown.”

“I see. And why do you hide it?”

“I do not, your Grace.”

“Lying to the King may cost your head, my Lady. You’d do well to remember that.”

“Wife…” your husband takes your arm, searches your face with an anxious stare “What is going on?”

“The White cloaks found it.” The Prince informs him “when I made them search your rooms.” He looks back at you and raises an eyebrow “For a token you’re supposed to be so fond of, I may suggest placing it somewhere else than the bottom of an old trunk.”

“Am I on trial for sending letters to my sister?”

“Yes. Considering the circumstances under which these ravens were sent. Ladies give letters to their maids, they do not go personally to the rookery, more so in the hour of the bat.”

Courage leaves you like a gust of wind. You thought you had been clever, careful. Why would anyone take notice of a court lady simply taking a walk in the early hours? And even if they had, they would have dismissed the thought at the first distraction. But not him.

“You think I would not notice? I may be half blind but I can assure you, my lady, I see everything.”  He throws the seal on the ground and resumes his soldier-like posture, standing tall and domineering with his arms laced back. “What did you tell your sister? Knowledge about our war plans? Are you secretly siding with the Blacks? I’d advise you to choose your words carefully. From them depends whether you’ll see the next dawn or not.”

Your shoulders slump a little, like a doomed creature sticking its head in the noose.

“My father asked me to spy on my husband to gather knowledge about the green army at Rook’s Rest. But I did not send any raven. I stopped since—"

“Since what? Do continue, my lady, I think your Lord husband is keen to know why his wife stopped playing him like a fool.” He leans his head forward, like someone desperately willing to hear a big secret, but your tongue is a dead thing in your mouth.

“No?” he inquires as silence stretches “Fine, I’ll tell you. You see, Lord Peake, recently your Lady wife seemed to have developed a sudden interest in the library.” the prince says with a little grin “I’m aware of this because I am myself an avid reader. In fact, your lady wife and I have been keeping each other company lately. A rather…intimate company.”

Some of the ladies start to whisper at your back, and you know what kind of words they’re labeling you.

“Wife.” Your husband calls, and this time his voice is steel “What is the meaning of this?”

You open and close your mouth, unsure whether it is worse to tell your husband how you’ve played him or to confess your sin.

“Come, don't deny it now.” the Prince goads you “All the hours you've spent, all those late nights did bear fruit, did they not? You've betrayed your house and the Crown, yet what sweetness it was to have gotten a taste, I'm sure your husband would agree.”

Lord Peaks looks utterly bewildered, shifting his gaze between you and the Prince like a dead fish.

“Oh, so he hasn't after all.” Aemond laughs “A pity, for your treacherous essence reeks of the most bittersweet nectar. Tart, but delicious.”

Your husband’s face is whiter than a sheet for a moment, followed by a red veil of anger and shame. The latter is in plain sight in the way you keep your head down; the Gods have stopped pointing their finger at you and left you in the claws of a much crueler creature. Namely, your own desire.

 “Search her.” Aemond orders returning to a stern face “And search her thoroughly.”

“My prince?” asks one of the guards.

“Women can be sneaky with all those veils and layers. Lose the corset.”

The cloaks look at him puzzled, just as you and your husband and anyone else in the room, but the guards know better than to disobey the King. 

One of them goes to stand behind you and starts pulling the laces of your dress, another is busying himself with lowering your sleeves.

Your eyes bore to the ground with the purest humiliation as your chest gradually grows exposed. You could raise your hands to hide your breast, but you have nothing to hide, not anymore.

You know it and Aemond knows too. He’s not doing this because he thinks you’re hiding something. He’s doing so for his own pleasure—to see you bare, to finally make you come out of your den and stop hiding from him. 

You dare not look at him but you can feel his eye lingering on you, on your body; you can sense the ghost of a delighted smirk on that wicked mouth. 

He takes an unreasonably long time before he gives a short nod to the guards, at last satisfied with your public humiliation. What drives your husband to move is not regard for you, but for his own dignity. What are women if not property of men? And however ruined you are now, Lord Peake will not have talk of his wife standing with her breasts out in the Throne Room.

But just as he leans down to you, the Prince speaks “You may go, Lord Peake. All of you.”

The Lord stalls, looking lost at his Prince.

“You can wait outside. She stays.” Aemond commands.

His eye is boring into you as he walks down the few steps with leisure, lingering on the sole of his boot before resting it on the ground. “She needs to learn the price of her disobedience.”

Your husband hesitates, looks at you with lingering disdain and a veil of fear that keeps his eyes wide open, but he can only bow his head.

When you’re left alone the Prince, save for the guards on the four sides of the hall, you dare to look up and see his eye blazing, a cunning edge to it.

He starts circling around you, and what’s left of your dignity makes your hands fly up to cover your chest.

“You said you stopped writing to your sister. And you stopped coming to the library.” he starts with a collected and calm voice. “Why?”

“You know why.” you mutter.

“You better drop this condescending tone if you want to leave this room with your head on your shoulders.”

“Apologies, my Prince. I did not mean to offend you. But I dim you wise enough to understand why I thought it was best to keep my distance from you.”

He stops his circling for a moment “Enlighten me.” and then he’s pacing again.

You swallow, smelling ashes and smoke on his trail. “It was a sin.”

“Hmm. Which one?” He asks somewhere behind you. Out the corner of your eye, you see him slightly leaning towards you, silver rolling past his shoulder as he cocks his head to one side “Your betrayal or the fact that you let me feast on your cunt like a common whore?”

You swallow again. Shame is still coiling in your belly, but there’s also something else on hearing those words coming from his mouth, recalling that night. This man has just humiliated you in front of the court and yet you crave for him to get closer.

“Both.”

“Both?”

“I did not want to.” You say and it’s true. And this, this is the last chance you might have to avoid the pike, or worse, Vhagar’s fangs. “My father forced me.” You say turning your head left and right as he resumes his pacing behind you “I don’t know which kind of deal he has struck with Prince Daemon but I swear it, my Prince, I said nothing about Rook’s Rest, I—“

The word dies on your tongue along with your breath as you feel the coldness of a sharp blade against your throat.

“I should slit your throat here and now.” He whispers dangerously, you can hear his teeth gritting. His arm is pressing on your chest, keeping you locked against him. “What else Lord Tarly ordered you in all his great wisdom? Mh? To seduce me? To play me like a fool, like you played my brother and your husband to gather knowledge about our armies and report it to my uncle and his whore?”

“No, I—" you try to say, but he presses the blade firmer and you choke a gasp, unconsciously grabbing his arm.

“You will speak when I say so.” He seethes, pulling your arm back with his other hand, painfully twisting your bone until a moan of pain escapes your mouth.

It awakens something inside him, something savage that makes him collide his body against yours “Hmm.” He coos darkly in your ear “This brings me back to that night.”

He swiftly twirls the dagger, sheathing the Valyrian steel, but his hand is quick to resume his caging, sliding on your half-covered breast, looking down your shoulders at your bare chest.

His fingers are cold as they slowly travel up, but they lick flames on your skin, making your nipples harden. “Do you remember, little snake? I do.” he runs the tip of his finger on the hard sensitive skin and you whimper softly “It was hard to forget the sounds you made.” He speaks to your neck, his breath scorching “I could hear them when I fucked my hand at night. You made me sin so many times. Was that part of the plan too? Did your father force you to moan my name while you peaked on my tongue?”

“Please…” you sob quietly, feeling fire nestling in your belly at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his bulge against your lower back.

“Do you moan like that when your husband fucks you? Mh?”

He wants an answer, and he pinches one of your nipples when you don’t please him.

“No…”

“No? I thought so.”

Your body reacts on his own, clenching for how his voice in your ear pools like liquid fire below your stomach. You can see his delighted smirk out of the corner of your eye. “You better speak now, little one. Not even the Gods can save you from the spike. Why would they? They turn their backs on traitors and sinners. And you dared to sin with a Kinslayer. You have only me to beg for mercy.”

“You don’t want to kill me.” You choke when his hand laces around your throat.

He would’ve done it already. He might still do it, but his pressing hardness on your back tells you otherwise.

“No. I have a better use for you.” he says squeezing your neck “I will make an example out of your treacherous mouth. They will look at you and be reminded of the mercy of my crown.”

He steps back and you have little time to catch your breath as he sits on the Iron Throne with the confidence of a God on his perch. The candles mix with lightnings, making the blue of the sapphire and the obsidian of the crown shimmer in a disturbing way.

He rests his arms along the forged swords, his long legs almost sprawled out on the ground. “Come and pledge your loyalty, my lady.”

Your heart hammers in your throat as you swallow. This is a game of life or death, but not now. Your two times have merged into a perpetual dizziness and you’re sinking into the claws of your desire like quicksand.

“No.” he admonishes with a voice like honey when you dare a step closer “On your knees. Like the sinner you are.”

You sink to the ground and his eye goes down with you, smirking with something savage flashing on his face. “Go ahead.” He says spreading his legs around you. “Take your blessing.”

You raise your hands slowly, close to his belt but when you start unbuckling it you find there’s no tremor in your fingers. And he’s too quick to notice. “You wanted this, do you?” he asks “Did you close your eyes and pretend to suck my cock instead of your husband’s?”

The buckles clink together as you finish the unbuckling but he suddenly leans over you, gripping your cheeks with a hold of iron.

“Answer me.”

“Yes.” You quickly, shamefully say.

The left edge of his mouth pulls up tiredly, omnisciently. “How? Like this?” In a blink his long fingers breach your mouth, hitting the back of your throat until you choke on them. He pulls them back just slightly, grazing your tongue, and he looks at you with a lustful blaze in his eye.

“Suck.” he orders, and you oblige, keeping your eyes on him as your mouth close around his two fingers, sucking gently and twirling your tongue around the skin.

“Hmm.” He croons with pleasure, leaving your mouth abruptly to lean back against the throne, sliding a little on the ancient seat to push his crotch before you. He makes haste of pulling his cock out, giving it a few tugs while he keeps looking at you, at the longing darkening your eyes and wetting your gowns.

You take hold of his hard hot length, all veiny and leaking from the tip and it’s only natural for you to close your lips around it. You have obscenely dreamed of this.

He lets out a loud gasp, gripping the throne with his hands as your head goes down, taking him all in. It hits the back of your throat with a lewd choking sound; you breathe through your nose, resuming your holy punishment once you have adjusted to length and girth, sucking hard and fast.

"Greedy little thing.” He praises with his eye growing heavy with pleasure “Easy. Easy, now.” he goads you to slow down, and you do, looking up to see him watching you closely, his lips parted, his breath slow and puffed.

“Fuck—” he curses, titling his head back but keeping his eye fixed on you. “See? This is the only good use for your cheating mouth. And you look so pretty.”

The ache between your legs is unbearable, you’re swollen and wet, you can feel your undergown dampening.

“Are you soaked for me, hmm? I bet you’re dripping all over the Conqueror’s swords.”

You have no way to answer as you keep bobbing your head up and down, a sinner worshipping her own sin.

“Open your mouth—wide” he orders and you do, drooling all over him as he starts to thrust harshly in your mouth.

“Yes. Like this, yes—fuck” He pumps in and out, bucking his hips, hitting your throat on and on while he moans helplessly and loudly, as only a King on his throne can.

“Hollow your cheeks.” And when you do it, something snaps inside him. He grabs your hair, pulling at the roots painfully while he keeps fucking your mouth frantically, choking your breath. But you don’t mind. This could be your last day, your last hour breathing. The snake is sucking at your bones and you welcome the poison.

“Enough.” he croaks when he was starting to breathe too fast, too close to the end. “Get up.”

Your knees ache as you pull yourself up but he’s so quick in lifting up your skirts and grabbing your waist to make you turn and sit on his lap, facing the Throne Room. The Guards are exactly where they’re supposed to be, blind and deaf to what they can perfectly see and hear.

“Let me give you my blessing, now.” Aemond says spreading your legs on the throne, making you wince as you feel his hot fingertips on your wet aching folds. “You’re soaked.” he states proudly, smiling with victory next to your ear.

He draws lazy circles on your bundle, sliding down your dripping lips, slowly, too slowly. You buck your hips against his hand and his chuckle travels up and down inside you, rattling your bones like thunder.

“Please…” you cry when his fingers brush your swollen lips once more.

“I should summon back your husband. So he’d see how his pretty wife begs to be fucked by her Prince like a whore. Shall I?”

You grab his hand, pressing it to your core and he dips a finger inside, spilling a loud moan from you that makes him bite your ear as he feels your hot walls clenching around him.

“Fine. We shall let him hear it.”

He brings his soaked fingers to your mouth, sticking them inside to make you taste yourself, and then he takes your wrist, trapping it on your stomach with his hand. He easily slides his cock inside you, moaning along with you into the haunting silence of the hall. His thrusts are deep and quick, desire has consumed him too, for too long. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh are only barely muffled by your frantic gasps. Your eyes are closed in a painful bliss, his hot labored breath dampens your neck as he fills you to the hilt.

Your throat is sore with lack of air as you turn your head and he slams his mouth against yours, filling your mouth with his scorching tongue, biting your lip and sucking until it’s swollen. All of this while relentlessly rutting into you, giving you violent bursts of pleasure that make your moans high-pitched and loud, so loud that everyone outside these walls can hear them. Your husband will hear them, the guards are definitely doing so.

“Fucking Gods, you feel so good” He pants in your mouth “You really wanted this. Your cunt is squeezing my cock like a vice. That husband of yours never fucked you this good, did he?”

“Gods—” you whine, squeezing your eyes shut but he grabs your chin with his free hand, forcing you to turn your head. “The Gods cannot hear you now. They’re deaf to the pleas of sinners.” with his free hand he clutches your bundle and he starts to torture you, drawing fast circles, while his length keeps rutting harshly. “Lucky for you I’m more merciful than the Gods.”

The tension in your belly is unbearable, it makes you cry obscenely and the sound only pushes him to go harder, faster.

“Please—I—I can’t—Gods—”

“You can’t what? Mh?” he nothing but growls, thrusting once more and then again. “This is your retribution.” He says baring his teeth “You failed your family for this. You lied and cheated. Now fucking—take—it” his last words punctuated with three deeper thrusts that make you whimper and roll your eyes back.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to reach your peak, letting out a long moan matched with sloppy shakes of your body against his. But he doesn’t stop, chasing his own pleasure as you whimper and sob with overstimulation. His hand keeps moving on your apex, all sticky with your pleasure and you grip his arm, trying to stop him. “Please—I can’t take it anymore—please my Prince—"

“You can and you will.” He promises “Give me one more. Come on, little traitor, just one more.”  

You’re not late in granting his wish, trembling all over him and curling your toes with spasms in your muscles.

He groans loudly beneath you, teeth clamping down your shoulder and he stills completely, coming inside you with a choked sound of relief vibrating from his throat.

You whimper softly, feeling him pulsing inside you, but he grabs your waist and forces you to stand up. You waver on your weak feet, his hand is around your arm but only to firmly push you away from him. Falling on the ground, you look up to see him fixing his breeches, hair all disheveled and a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Guards.” He says hoarsely, catching his breath, and two white cloaks stand at attention, their faces blank, pretending to be oblivious to what they have just witnessed. “Take her to my chambers and have the maid give her moon tea.”

Then he looks down at you, his face is wild and yet viciously focused. “We’re going to find a way to send your husband back to Starpike.” He says grazing your lips with his long fingers. “You’re not leaving my chambers anytime soon. In the time being,” his hand grips your mouth harshly, his voice eerily calm “You will write to Oldtown in your own hand, and ask my uncle to send me the head of Samantha Tarly.”

You widen your eyes with terror and he smiles, sweet and poisonous. “And remember, little snake. If I find you near the rookery at odd hours again, I will cut your throat in your sleep. Such a waste it would be. I’d rather have you choking on my cock than your own blood.”

He leaves without another word and you’re left on the ground. You can’t beg mercy to the Gods now, you will have to beg for his and his alone.

thank you so much for reading!! 💕

[madeline-ronpa-ask]

Welcome to Madeline County!

Welcome welcome! This is a silly blog I thought about making based on a discord server RP that was based on an AU of The Mandella Catalog! If you’d like to know more on the AU, please see this link to a doc made by @/pristina29! (You’ll need it to understand most of this lmao)

We are currently on the 2nd Season of the game, so there’s that bit too. (when that doc drops I’ll link it aswell dw :3)

If you’d like to join the server, just jump on in and join the fun!

(TW: THE SERVER HAS MENTIONS OF CANIBALISM (Mentions of such topics will be avoided as much as possible on the blog))

ASK RULES:

No NSFW. I feel like this is a given but still. This blog is being run by and asks are answered by minors. Dont.

No RP/M!A asks please! The answerers would rather not RP on Tumblr due to already having the server RPs /lh

Please be sure to clearly address the chars you’re asking! Nobody likes their ask being mixed up w/ another char!

Please be patient with responses! It can be a lengthy process as we all have our personal lives/answering styles!

I’ll edit the rules as I see fit

~ Admin Cookie :3

——————————————————————————————————

CURRENT ASK ABLE CAST (Including Represented Deserts and Living Status):

S1:

Hosts:

Cesar Torres ~ Strawberry Cheesecake - Deceased

Mark Heathcliff ~ Blueberry Muffin - Deceased

Adam Murray ~ Apple Pie - Deceased

Jonah Marshal ~ Lemon Tart - Deceased

Participants:

RED Spy (TF2) ~ Cherry Chocolate Bûche De Noël - Alive

SMG4 ~ Vanilla Cake - Alive

Elizabeth Afton (FNAF, Casronpa!AU (Another server lmao)) ~ Strawberry Ice Cream - Deceased

Jay Merrick (Marble Hornets) ~ Keylime Pie - Deceased

Ludwig Beilshmidt (Hetalia) ~ Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte - Alive

Daniel Mattews (Saw) ~ Forest Cake - Deceased

Hansel Strudel (OC) ~ Candied Green Apple - Deceased

Googleplier (Markiplier Ego) ~ Blue Artificial Doughnut- Deceased

Meta Knight (Kirby) ~ Custard - Deceased

Melodie (Brawl Stars) ~ Starburst Candy - Deceased

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) ~ Strawberry Shortcake - Alive

Peter Spankoffski (Hatchetfeild) ~ Hot Chocolate - Deceased

S2:

RED Scout (TF2) ~ Boston Cream Doughnut - Alive

Mario (Mario and the Music Box) ~ Spaghettiesis Ice Cream - Alive

Marchionne Evangelisti (MATMB) ~ Chocolate Bunny - Alive

KAITO (PJ:SK, Base Vocaloid) ~ Blueberry Ice Cream - Alive

Cielomort (Fragaria Memories) ~ Starry Toffee Cake - Alive

Abbiy (Among Us OC) ~ Pockys - Alive

The Witch (AKA Trixie) (Slay The Princess) ~ Poison Apple - Alive

Alex Evergreen (OC) ~ Chocolate Chip Cookie - Alive

HABIT (EverymanHYBRID) ~ Dark Chocolate Mousse - Alive

Robin (Teen Titans, Fears to Fathom!AU (Another Ronpa lmao)) ~ Blueberry Yogert Parfait - Alive

Feliciano Vargas (Hetalia) ~ Banana Gelato - Alive

Robin (Batman/Superman: World’s Finest) ~ Apple Crumble - Alive

Poppy Skies (OC) ~ Rose Latte - Alive

Izumi Sou (ARSMAGNA) ~ Blueberry Cheesecake - Alive

Celestine (Pokemon S/V Protag OC) ~ Blue Raspberry Snowball - Alive

Kiku (Hetalia) ~ Dango - Alive

King DeDeDe (Kirby) ~ Strawberry Blueberry Shortcake - Alive

The Tailor (Rain World HUMAN!AU) ~ Raspberry Lemonade Ice Cream Float - Alive

Magolor (Kirby) ~ Gâteau Invisible - Alive

Peri (FO:ANW) ~ Ube Cake Roll - Alive

Folly (Regretavator) ~ Black Licorice - Alive

Fridge DJ (It’s Time For The) ~ Tootsie Roll Pop - Alive

Spectators (under cut due to lenghty list):

Scout’s Mother (TF2)

RED Heavy (TF2)

RED Medic (TF2)

BLU Scout (Jeremy) (TF2)

BLU Scout (Jenny) (TF2 OC)

SMG3 (SMG4)

Luigi (MatMB)

Mario (SMG4)

Mario (OG)

Luigi (OG)

Cassidy (FNAF Movie)

Evan (FNAF, Casronpa!AU)

Vanessa (FNAF, Mascot!AU)

El Tigre (Yes, from the Nicktoon)

Alfred F. Jones (Hetalia)

Rin Kagamine (PJ:SK, Base Vocaloid)

Len Kagamine (PJ:SK, Base Vocaloid)

Willmesh (Fragaria Memories)

Lauren (OC)

Kirby (Kirby)

Bandanna Dee (Kirby)

Sailor Dee (Kirby)

Grusha (Pokemon S/V)

Kieran (Pokemon S/V)

Tim (Marble Hornets)

Patrick (MLAndersen0)

Collector (The Owl House)

Akira Kurusu aka Joker (Persona 5)

Raven (Teen Titans)

Starfire (Teen Titans)

Lists will be edited as more chars become available to interact with.

[kckt88]

Rooks Rest & The Silver King.

Summary:

The dragons dance and a Regent is crowned.

Warning(s): Swearing, Dragon Battle, Injuries, Blood, Anger, Resentment, Argument, Smut, Rough P in V sex.

Word Count: 3020.

Author Note: A companion piece to Wedding & Consummation/Bath Time/Arrival(s)/Mother & Father/Petitions & Final Tributes/The Hand, The King & The Dragon/Dragonstone/Blood & Cheese/A Time for Grief/The Gullet/Taking of a City/Harrenhal and the Rivers/The Gods Eye, The Fallen Queen & New Beginnings.

But can be read as a one-shot.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Picture credit: Battle at Rook's Rest by Kamil Winczewski @hive_mind_3ddesigns

Aemond stretched his arms across the bed and panicked when his hand met the cold empty space next to him.

“Vaera” said Aemond as he shot up, looking wildly around the room.

“Husband”

Aemond looked towards the lounge area and breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted Vaera and Rhaegar sitting together, eating breakfast.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” asked Aemond as he clambered out of bed and pulled on some breeches and a loose tunic.

“I didn’t want to disturb you” replied Vaera.

“Daddy. Sit” said Rhaegar patting the seat next to him.

Aemond smiled slightly as he sat next to Rhaegar, who was busy colouring.

“What are you drawing?” asked Aemond curiously.

“A picture for Aemon. Mama said we could put it in his special place” replied Rhaegar.

Aemond took Vaera’s hand and squeezed it tight.

“Are you, ok?”

“I’m ok” replied Vaera quietly.

Since she had almost thrown herself from a window in the Red Keep, it had taken some time for Vaera to come back to herself.

Aemond and Rhaegar were a constant presence by her side. Helping her during her darkest days. Where they would curl up together in their chambers and hold each other until the darkness ebbed.

Even though his ashes had been entered into the great sept. Aemond had a special plaque made in the gardens for Aemon. Despite his desire to be just like his father, Aemon always loved the gardens, especially when he would chase after Rhaegar the pair of them would roll on the grass together giggling.

It gave Vaera a sense of comfort, as she would often spend hours just sitting in front of Aemon’s plaque talking and reading his favourite book.

Her other salvation came in the form of Cannibal.

Her fiercely loyal dragon who gracefully took to the skies with his rider and flew for as long as they both needed too. Sometimes Brightfyre would accompany them, the dark blue scales of Aemon’s dragon shimmering in the sunlight as he broke through the clouds, chirping expectantly at Cannibal who had no qualms about keeping his hatchling in line as he would often throw a customary snarl in his direction.

But the war between the Greens and the Blacks still raged.

Aemond was still no closer to discovering what had happened to Lucerys and the realm was up in arms over the murders of Jaehaerys and Aemon.

Something had to change, Daemon still held Harrenhall and Rhaenyra remained holed up on Dragonstone.

Aegon had grown tired of his grandsire’s inaction and lack of progress, so he removed him from his position as Hand of the King and temporarily promoted Ser Criston Cole instead.

The former Kings guard offered a more aggressive strategy.

One that involved Aegon, Aemond and their dragons. Vaera offered to help but it was imperative that she remain in Kings Landing.

Her Cannibal was the second largest dragon in the world, and he would provide an ample defence should the need arise.

In addition to the dragons Vhagar and Sunfyre, Aegon and Criston marched out of King's Landing with 100 knights, 500 men-at-arms, and three times as many sells words: thus about 2,400 in total. The forced addition of men from Rosby and Stokeworth would have increased this to slightly under 3,000 men by the time they reached Duskendale.

First they reached Rosby and Stokeworth, whose lords were Blacks but had been captured in King's Landing during the initial coup, and agreed to bend the knee in order to spare their own lives. Having secured their submission, Aegon’ s host passed bloodlessly through both castles and even added their strength to his own.

During the sack of Duskendale, Lord Gunthor Darklyn was beheaded for treason. Most of his household knights submitted to King Aegon, although a few loyal knights decided to follow Gunthor in death.

Then they marched to Rooks Rest, where a trap was set for the Blacks.

Lord Staunton closed the gates of Rook's Rest, but he was unable to prevent Criston from burning his fields or killing his smallfolk and livestock. He asked for assistance from Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen by sending a raven to Dragonstone.

Nine days later, Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen Who Never Was, and her dragon, Meleys, the Red Queen, arrived above Rook's Rest to aid Lord Staunton.

However, Criston was prepared and had his archers and scorpions fire at Meleys. The dragon was largely unharmed by these attacks, and she responded by burning Criston's soldiers with dragon fire.

Meleys was then attacked by King Aegon atop Sunfyre and Aemond atop Vhagar. The aerial combat between the two dragons of the Greens and the one dragon of the Blacks not only saw the death of the Red Queen Meleys but Rhaenys and Aegon were severely injured.

Aemond, Criston, and the surviving Greens took Rook's Rest and killed Lord Staunton and his garrison of one hundred soldiers.

Rhaenys was sent back to Driftmark to recover from her injuries and Aegon was carried back to Kings Landing atop Vhagar with an injured Sunfyre returning to the dragon pit.

The severed heads of Lord Staunton and Meleys were paraded through the streets of Kings Landing in a show of the Greens victory over the Blacks.

Vaera however grateful that her grandmother Rhaenys had managed to survive, did not take too kindly to the treatment of her dragon Meleys.

“You are the rider of the mighty Vhagar, the last living remnant of Aegon’s conquest, how could you desecrate the symbol of our house in such a manner” snarled Vaera.

“I did what needed doing. She would have killed Aegon”.

“But to parade the head of my grandmothers dragon through the streets of Kings Landing as some sort of trophy. It’s sick” said Vaera.

“That dragon was responsible for the deaths of hundreds when she burst through the floor of the dragon pit, the people of Kings Landing need to see their King defending them”.

“Whatever you say Aemond” retorted Vaera as she hauled Rhaegar into her arms and stormed out of the room, leaving an irritated Aemond in her wake.

During the battle of Rooks Rest, Aegon suffered a number of burns and had broken his leg and arm.

He was far too injured to properly serve the realm as its King.

So, the decision was made to crown Aemond as regent until Aegon recovered.

Vaera stood with Rhaegar as she watched Criston place the conquerors crown on Aemond’s head.

As he sat on the Iron Throne, the Lords present lowered themselves to one knee and pledged their support to Aemond Prince Regent of the Seven Kingdoms.

In the aftermath of Rook’s Rest, the Red Keep, had become so eerily quiet. No mindless gossip or laughing children running through the corridors.

No words were spoken as the people of Kings Landing held their breath to see if King Aegon would survive his injuries.

Before this, on the nights when sleep would escape them, when Aemond was still a constant presence in their chambers, the nights when he had been demanding, ravenous and insatiable.

The nights when his slender fingers moved over the soft womanly curves of her body, the nights where he would nestle himself between her thighs and press his mouth against her hot wet cunt, her breathless moans echoing around their chambers.

But those nights were nothing more than a faded memory. Aegon’s injuries, and the deaths of Aemon and Jaehaerys had cast a dark cloud over the Red Keep.

Now, Vaera could count on one hand, the dwindling number of times she had seen her husband in the wake of the Council naming him Prince Regent in his brother’s stead.

Vaera cannot stop the resentment that forms deep inside her as she watches him get dressed.

The scalding wretched blackened thing that slithers and coils in her stomach like a snake as he presses a brief kiss her cheek before he leaves, slipping seamlessly from their chambers like the ghost he was.

She almost despises it, this nameless ugly thing that has robbed a husband from his wife and a father from his son.

This thing that keeps taking and taking, even more still.

The deep-seated resentment continues to grow and fester even as he slips into the bed behind her sometime during the night, pressing his body against hers, before drifting off almost immediately after looping his arms around her.

Sometimes she would remove herself from his grasp and go sleep in the nursery with Rhaegar. Night after night she would lie staring at the ceiling wishing her husband would pay her some semblance of attention.

But the crown weighed heavy and the responsibility even heavier still.

One night after seeing Rhaegar to bed, she finds Aemond sitting silently in their chambers, staring into the fire.

"Husband" said Vaera, watching as Aemond flinched at the bite in her voice.

The urge to snap at him grows and festers like a wound.

Yet before she can utter a word, a flash of crimson catches her attention.

Vaera’s eyes flick to the side briefly to see his crown, the crown that belonged to his brother, placed on top of her vanity table, the ruby twinkling at her as it caught the low glow emitted from the fire.

Vaera stands over the crown, staring down at the blackened metal. Every time she sees it, the uglier it becomes, this relic of long dead Kings, the beginning of the Targaryen dynasty.

It paled in comparison to the crown her grandsire Viserys once wore.

This thing was as dark as a shadow, all consuming, sweeping over the Red Keep and everyone in its path. Leaving no room for the light.

The longer she looks at it, the more she loathes it. This object that has stolen her husband and deprived Rhaegar of his father.

She’d had enough.

“All you care about is that damn crown” snapped Vaera.

“What?” asked Aemond his single amethyst eye widening.

“You heard me. This thing, this ugly disgusting crown. You care more about that, than you do me or your son” snarled Vaera as she took hold of the crown and launched it across the room.

The clang of metal hitting the wall, echoed around their chambers.

“Everything I do is for you and Rhaegar” snarled Aemond as he rose sharply from his chair.

“Yeah right. You’ve been far too preoccupied with those insufferable pricks on the council to even notice me or Rhaegar” retorted Vaera.

“I have a duty to the realm, I cannot fail” said Aemond.

“But you’ll happily fail in your duty as a husband and father” quipped Vaera.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT” shouted Aemond his lip curling.

“No how dare you. Ever since that fucking crown touched your head, me and Rhaegar have been nothing but an afterthought to you” snarled Vaera.

“That’s not true”.

“Yes, it bloody well is. Haven’t you noticed that Rhaegar no longer calls for you to read to him at bedtime, or how he never asks you to take him to see Valaerys anymore?” said Vaera.

“I didn’t ask for this” exclaimed Aemond as he wrenched off his eyepatch and threw it on the chair.

“Didn’t refuse it though, did you?” snapped Vaera.

“How could I? Aegon is injured. Jaehaerys is dead, and Maelor is naught but a child. I’m next in line for the throne. I have to be the one to wear the crown”.

“Even if at the cost of your wife and son?” asked Vaera.

“What do you mean?”.

“You don’t care about us. All you’ve ever wanted is that crown and now you have it. I hope it was worth it” said Vaera.

“Worth it?” questioned Aemond.

“It cost Aemon and Jaehaerys their lives. It might even claim the life of your brother and yet you still clamour for it like a desperate child wanting to be fed” said Vaera.

“How can you even say that?”

“Because it’s the truth. Maybe if your grandsire wasn’t so relentless in advancing Aegon as heir, this might not have happened. Aemon might still be alive. Jaehaerys might still be alive and Luke-“ said Vaera.

“-I thought you understood. Aegon is the first-born son, the Throne was his by right”.

“What if I was my mother’s heir instead of Jacaerys? What if I was in line for the Throne? Would you still be saying the same then? Or would you snatch your own sons birth right from under him?” screamed Vaera.

“It’s irrelevant. You are not your mother’s heir. She passed you over in favour of that strong bastard boy of hers” replied Aemond.

“I will take Rhaegar and leave Kings Landing. Leave you and your fucking crown”.

“YOUR NOT FUCKING GOING ANYWHERE” snarled Aemond viciously.

“Going to stop me, are you? How exactly are you going to do that when you barely pay me any attention. I bet you wouldn’t even notice that I’d gone” balled Vaera.

“You will not leave me. You will not take my son” ordered Aemond as he drew himself to his full height and stared down at his wife, his lip curling.

"I will fly my Cannibal across the narrow sea and you will never see either of us again" threatened Vaera as she stood against Aemond, her body pressed against his.

"NO YOU WON'T!"

“I shall and you will never-“ stuttered Vaera as Aemond suddenly lunged forward and pressed his lips to hers.

Vaera ripped herself away from Aemond. Staring at him as she put a hand to her mouth.

The resentment swirling in the pit of her stomach was now morphing into something else. The dormant fire of their relationship was roaring to life once more. Coursing through her body.

One kiss, that was all it took. She needed more. She needed him.

Suddenly Vaera wrapped her arms around Aemond's neck and drew him in back in.

Their kiss was rough and vicious. Consisting of teeth and tongue.

It had been so long since they’d shared any form of intimacy.

Aemond backed Vaera towards the bed, his hands tearing off her shift until it was a ragged mess on the floor.

It was an eruption of frustration and passion. Hands everywhere, grabbing, scratching, and pulling at one another.

Aemond took a brief minute to yank off his tunic and shirt before he shoved Vaera on the bed, her back colliding with the mattress with a soft thump.

His body covered hers as he sucked and licked the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Vaera moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.

Aemond pulled away to unfasten his breeches and push them down, freeing his hard cock.

Vaera lay back on the bed, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

Aemond runs his hand up and down the length of himself, eyeing his wife with an animalistic hunger, a smirk on his lips as she parts her legs for him.

As he guides himself to her entrance, she barely has a moment to adjust before he is pressing his cock forcefully inside and stretching her brutally, causing her to cry out.

“FUCKING TAKE IT!” spits Aemond, wrapping a hand around her throat while the other digs into her hip, pulling her aggressively against him to meet each one of his hard thrusts.

Vaera can’t think of anything but the intense pounding thrusts that greet her, causing her to wail and moan, causing tears form in her eyes, before running down her cheeks.

Aemond sets a brutal pace, his hips crashing into hers.

“YES! YES! AEMOND!” screams Vaera.

“FUCK!” shouts Aemond as he feels her cunny clenching around his cock.

As Aemond’s hips begins to falter in their movements, Aemond snakes a hand between their joined bodies, his long fingers expertly circling her pearl, causing heat to bloom in her stomach.

He presses down more firmly, making faster movements against her bud making her shudder, as a sudden warmth crashes over her in waves making her cry out, her cunny tightening around him.

“AEMOND!!” screams Vaera as her hands claw at his back.

“Fuck!! baby, that’s it come all over my cock!” growls Aemond as he moves to grab the headboard, bracing himself as he continues to pound his hips against hers.

“A-Aemond” gasped Vaera.

With a loud animalistic groan, Aemond stills, leaning over his wife, his cock pulsating as he spills his seed deep inside her.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” asked Aemond quietly as he observed the reddened marks that littered his wife’s pale skin.

“No” whispered Vaera, the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Y-Your crying” muttered Aemond.

“I-I’m not crying because I’m hurt. I-I’m sorry for what I said” whispered Vaera as she pressed her face into Aemond’s side.

“Vaera” exclaimed Aemond, wrapping his arms around his wife’s shaking form.

“I would never leave you and take Rhaegar. I just feel like I’m losing you. Ever since Aegon was crowned everything has gone wrong” sniffed Vaera.

“I know” murmured Aemond pressing his lips to Vaera’s head.

“We’ve lost Aemon and Jaehaerys. Luke’s dead and we don’t know if Aegon will recover. Your grandsire said crowning Aegon would prevent a war, but it started one” replied Vaera.

“We had no other option. If your mother took the crown, she would have killed us”.

“Y-You don’t know that for sure” whispered Vaera.

“Yes, I do. Her rule as Queen would never be stable, there would always be discord and calls for Aegon to be King. He is Viserys’ first-born son. In order to secure the throne for herself, she would have to put us to the sword. Then there’s Jacaerys, a known bastard. Do you really think the realm would accept him as King once your mother passed” said Aemond firmly.

Vaera shook her head, she knew what Aemond was saying was right. War was inevitable.

“We need to be together in this Vaera. We cannot be divided any longer” urged Aemond.

“I know” muttered Vaera sadly.

“You and Rhaegar are my sole reason for existing. I would gladly lay down my life if it meant the both of you were safe”.

“No. Aemond” sobbed Vaera desperately clinging to Aemond.

“I just need you to know how much you and Rhaegar mean-”.

“-Love you so much” said Vaera.

“I love you too” replied Aemond.

[askinkiskarma]

Cruel Summer | Chapter V: This Love (alternate ending)

Pairings: Neteyam x (f)Human!Reader

Word Count: 8k words

Warnings/notes: fluff, smut, all the feels, Neteyam x Reader being the cutest

Synopsis: "Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one's life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one's side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illustration flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps loveunfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath."

A/N: Please read this before you read the final chapter x

Besties, if you're here, enjoy a much happier alternate ending to Cruel Summer.

I will leave my notes at the end of the chapter. Ily besties, enjoy!

: ̗̀➛ listen to the Cruel Summer playlist here : ̗̀➛ masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x)

Clear blue water

High tide came and brought you in

And I could go on and on, on and on, and I will

When Neteyam left the first time, he did so because he thought he was protecting you. That despite the heartbreak he’d have to endure, despite how much his heart and mind were screaming loudly, agonisingly that he should stay, he refused to put your safety at risk. He refused to let who he was and who his parents were be the reason you would ever be in harm’s way. So he didn’t fight it. And he left. The first time he agreed to mate with someone else, was because he didn’t know any better. He didn’t know how he felt, he didn’t know how you felt. Once again, he was willing to do something despite his own wishes and desires, because he thought it would aid in the clan’s peace and prosperity. 

But now… now that he knew, now that he had this last day, now that he knew what it was like to love you, to hold you, to have you, Neteyam knew that for the first time in his life, he had to be selfish, and he had to stand up to his family’s expectations of him, and for him. Because it wasn’t fair. It had never been fair, the way he was treated, but he never complained, because he knew there were sacrifices that had to be made in order to be who he was: the prince of the Omaticaya, the son of the Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto. But he was no longer a prince, and his dad - no longer the Olo’eyktan or the Toruk Makto. His father forsook his own and Neteyam’s titles and Neteyam was nobody now. Just another person in a sea of people on Pandora, and although not his ideal turn of events, it did come with certain perks. 

“No.”

His dad rose an eyebrow, a expression he reserved purely for very specific circumstances, and it seems Neteyam’s only refusal in this life was important enough to warrant it. 

“Father… I love you. You know this. I love this family more than anything in this world, I have been more than happy and willing to do anything and everything you have ever asked of me, but this I won’t do. Not anymore. Not when Lo’ak is in love with Tsireya and his union wouldn’t hinder his own happiness and purpose for the rest of his life. I can’t do this anymore. I have lived for almost 20 years with of myself hidden behind a facade, with so many sacrifices that kept getting heavier, until one day, I felt I could no longer bear them all without collapsing. There was only one thing in my life, one person, that helped me through it, and I had to leave her once. And it broke me, dad, and I still did it, because I thought it was the right thing to do. But I won't do this, I won't leave her again. Not when I just got her back."

Skies grew darker

Currents swept you out again

And you were just gone and gone, gone and gone

Neteyam found you at the beach, staring into the distance, back turned away from him and he was so happy, to be able to know he did the right thing for once, and he chose right, and he chose you. 

“Vol…” 

Your soft sniffles took Neteyam by surprise, as did your face, littered in tears, eyes, nose and cheeks red and swollen. Neteyam exhaled, a sharp tug of pain gnawing at his insides, and he sat next to you, turning until he faced you, until he tugged gently at your mask so you’d look at him, until he could tell you that there was nothing to cry about, not this time, not anymore.

“You heard.” 

You nodded meekly.

“Yeah… your mother, uhm… she was talking about it when I went to check on Kiri.” 

He smiled at you, and you frowned, not understanding why this was in anyway a smiling matter. 

“Vol… I said no.” Your shocked expression only deepened his sense of euphoria, so excited to be able to tell you this, to be able to watch your expression change as you got to hear everything he had to say. 

“What did you say?” 

In silent screams

In wildest dreams

I never dreamed of this

“You heard me, Vol. I told father no. You know, all my life, I used to think the way humans lived was bad. That to ever put your needs on top of the people you loved’s ones is wrong, and immoral. My parents gave me life, my clan gave me a purpose, Eywa gave me a plan - to be Olo’eyktan, to be Toruk Makto’s son and worthy of it, to continue the lineage and the bloodline I was born into, to protect my people. And I intend to keep to that and honour it to the best of my abilities, but Vol, I learnt through it that there’s nothing wrong with being a little selfish sometimes. It doesn’t mean that you don’t love or appreciate these things, or that you’re not grateful. It means you understand that you only have one life, and at the end of it, you need to choose what life you want to flash before your eyes as you go. And I want you. You’re my life, you always have been. I want to love you, and not hide it. I want to see you everyday, I want to wake up in your stuffy, tiny bedroom, which happens to be my favourite place in the world because it has you in it, and your morning face, and your eyes as they stare up at me as soon as you open them. I want to walk through the forest, and watch you grow and teach you how to fight. I want to fight for my people. My people, not the reef people. So I told them no. And we’re going home, Vol. You and me.”

“It’s my turn now. It’s my turn to be selfish, and choose you.”

“Remember, you once told me humans believe in this concept of parallel universes. That in this immense universe we are in, there are actually other ones, parallel to our own, in which reality differs. There are infinite realties out there, they say, each of them slightly different to the other. In a different reality, maybe you and I never met. In a different reality, for some stupid, incomprehensible reason, I say yes. Maybe in another one, you leave me, or I die at the hands of the Sky People well before my time should be up. Maybe things don’t work out for us in every universe, but this one. But we have this one. I have control over this one. Maybe this universe is the only one in which I get to love you fully, and you get to do the same, and I’ll be damned if I let the opportunity pass me by.”

“I just got you back. I just got you back. I’m never letting you go again.” 

You cried, letting it all out. All the hurt of hearing the news being spoken to you, all the relief of hearing it contradicted, the confession which you’ve longed for what felt like all your life. You cried in his chest for how overwhelming these past few months have been, for how much love you had to bury, for the future that you’ll now get, the one that felt like a dream or an out-of-reach fantasy, but it would be real, and finally within your grasp.

This love is good, this love is bad

This love is alive back from the dead

These hands had to let it go free, and

This love came back to me

He consoled you, so infinitely happy to be able to say these words to you, finally, and held you as you cried, removing his own tears that were lazily falling down his face at the relief of it all. He’d never have to let you go again. 

“Neteyam… I can’t ask you to leave your family for me. This is too much, you can’t do this.”

He smiled and gently removed your hair out of the way, so he could look into your eyes, so you could see how serious he was, how intentioned his decision. 

“Vol, you’re not asking me to do anything. It’s my decision. And this isn’t just about you. The Sky People never saw me. They don’t know who I am, I don’t look like my dad at all. I like the reef people, and I like this place, I swear I do, but I love the forest more. I miss home, I miss the Omaticaya. I don’t care if I never get to be Olo’eyktan anymore, I just want to be who I was always meant to be - a warrior of the forest people, and your mate. Ok?” 

“Now, we have a day left before Lo’ak’s ceremony and our departure. You’re finally mine, and I am yours. We have one more day in this place, let’s take advantage of it.”

“Come on, Vol. We can’t leave without another swim.” 

In losing grip

On sinking ships

You showed up just in time

You took a detour back to the village and stopped on a different beach, isolated and reclusive, full of greenery and sandy beaches, that you decided was now your beach, your own little portion of heaven in the reef, that Neteyam promised would be for just the two of you, for the rest of time, even after you were gone. It was a silly fantasy, of course, but in your minds, when you were together, the world was quiet and catered to you, the world was just there to be a witness to a love beyond belief, so good, and pure, so mighty and extraordinary that without a witness, might be considered just a fable, a story to tell kids at night, to keep lovers hopeful in trying times. He was happy to know he’s once more learnt your body like he used to know it back home, and ecstatic at how he would once more get to put his lessons to good use after today, and from tomorrow, every new scar, and new curve, every new freckle or mole, it would all be always be familiar to him again, he’d be there to witness it, to learn it with you, to love it for you.

“We still have a few hours before eclipse is over, what would you like to do?” he says, and you smirk, as you get up from your spot next to him and straddle his hips, running your hands over his toned body, muscular and powerful, so different to most Na’vi men you knew, and you thanked Jake Sully for the whatever human genes made it so this was the man laying beneath you, the man you got to see unravel before you, as you started lazily grinding on his length, matching his moans as the feeling of pleasure and relief built up in you. 

“I might have one or two ideas.” 

“You’re insatiable, you know? You’ve already had one or two ideas.” 

“You have 3 months of ideas you have to make up for, ’teyam. I’m just getting a headstart.” 

Your slick coated his cock as you continued moving, languid, unhurried motions, as you took your time to feel him, for him to feel you, because you had time. You had all the time in the world, and from now on you would make sure to cherish this, every step, every touch, every kiss, every orgasm, because you knew what it was like to be without it, and you now needed to have this etched in your mind, forever. So you would take your time. He growled, his canines on display and you found it so hot you increased your pace.

“You’re such a fucking tease, Vol.” you smirked again, loving the untethered, flurried look he had about him - eyes shut tightly, head pushed back, thin layer of sweat coating his beautiful skin.

“Good things come to those who wait, ‘teyam.” You rose from your spot, just enough to be able to line his cock at your entrance, just enough to be able to slowly sink back down, slowly, carefully, adjusting to his girth, a little easier now that you were stretched slightly from the last few orgasms, that you were still drenched in a mixture of both your cum and slick. 

You lowered yourself as much as you could, stopping when he hit your cervix and curved slightly until a small bulge appeared in your lower abdomen, that he missed no time in caressing, in pressing until you squirmed on him. 

“So beautiful. You’re so beautiful on top of me, Vol. So beautiful with my cock buried in you.” 

His hands wrapped around your waist, fingers overlapping as he lifted you gently and back on him, and you cried out at the exquisite stimulation, at the pace he set, until it was so good it was overwhelming, and until the desire and pressure built up inside you reached a highpoint and exploded inside you, until your third orgasm made your legs buckle and make you fall deeper on him. The extra simulation from his length stretching you beyond what you could stand, and his thumb circling your clit, made you squirt all over him, gushes of liquid dripping down his cock and past his thighs, on the ground. Your throbbing walls squeezed him and he groaned wildly as he came in you, and you felt so full, so satisfied, so spent, so fucking good. 

This love is good, this love is bad

This love is alive back from the dead,

These hands had to let it go free, and

This love came back to me

You fell unceremoniously on his chest, allowing the high to settle down as you listened to his lowering heartbeat and his progressively more relaxed breaths. You were so calm, so content, your life for the past few months felt almost like a bad dream, and you couldn’t imagine it outside of this moment anymore, couldn’t imagine not loving him everyday, not having his arms around your body as they were now, couldn’t imagine how your life would have turned out if you didn’t show up here in the first place. You made a mental note to thank Norm for talking you into the best decision you’ve ever made.

 

“I figured out what I want.” Neteyam says all of a sudden, and you raise your eyebrows, confused at his words. 

“Hmm?” 

“Our little bet in the water? I beat you to it, and I was supposed to tell you what I wanted and you were supposed to do it.” 

“Ah, yes.” You say, almost impossible to perceive that that was just yesterday.

“So what do you want, 'teyam?” 

“I want you to promise that you won’t name our kids some name from some movie or tv show without at least consulting me first. My dad wanted to name Lo’ak Louie and my mother almost had a heart attack. He tried again with Tuk, and my mum raced him out of the tent with a knife when he suggested Rachel, and I don’t want to do that to you, Vol.”

Your eyes widened and the tears pooled in them as you threw your head back and laughed, a real laugh, probably the first real laugh in months, since before he left. 

“But Rachel’s a good name, no?” It was meant to be a joke. Just a teasing, light joke, and you wiggled your eyebrows at him as you stood on his chest and peppered kisses on his neck for as long as your breath allowed you, laughing at his groans and rolling of his eyes.

It was his turn to do the same to you, his feathery attacks tickling you and you were so happy, so so happy, it was hard to not feel tears pool in your eyes at the thought of him, of your past and your present, about how much more different the future could have looked under different circumstances.

“You’re crazy, Vol.”

“Eh, you’re right. It’s just ok. What about Chandler? I think that Chandler Te Suli Neteyam’itan just rolls off the tongue, don’t you?”

You tightened your arms around his torso, and pulled him as close to you as you could. He sighed, and you tried to keep more chuckles from slipping through as he huffed in fake annoyance.

“You’re a menace. You have to promise me!” 

You nodded reluctantly, knowing that you would agree to whatever name he wanted anyway. It was a small price to pay for a lifetime of happiness, one that you’d pay over and over again, every day of your life, as long as you got to keep him.

“I promise, ‘teyam.” 

This love left a permanent mark

This love is glowing in the dark

These hands had to let it go free, and

This love came back to me

You woke up in his arms as eclipse was almost over, and your heart swelled at the sight of him, sleeping peacefully, snoring softly, his chest raising and falling with each breath, and you felt yourself transported through time to all the other times you’ve found yourself in this exact spot, how many times you’ve seen him like this, comfortable and vulnerable and completely yours… except now he was actually yours. He was yours. You couldn’t help the wide grin that followed as the fact slowly sank in, still something so fantastical to you, it was hard to comprehend, hard not to let your mind ruin it by thinking of all the worst-case scenarios, of all the things that could be going wrong, of all the ways this could end badly. You shook your head in an attempt to push the bad thoughts out, and the motion woke him up, slight panic on his face until his eyes found yours, and it immediately melted, replaced by a shining smile and tender kisses on your neck. 

“Good morning, ma Vol.”

“Good morning, sleepy. You know, you’re really pretty when you sleep.” You laughed as a slight blush made his cheeks purple, and he took off your mask to kiss you, and you moaned, deepening the kiss, pushing all the boundaries, and your tongue past his lips, until it hurt, until he had to force the mask back on your face. 

“Why do you always take things too far?” 

“Because one of us has to, ‘teyam.” 

Neteyam chuckled as he buried his face in your hair. You were right about that. You’ve always been the brave one. He always thought you would have been a sight to behold as a Na’vi. You had no fear. You always went after what you wanted, and fought with an iron grip for what you believed in. When you were both 10, you and Lo’ak were fighting over a toy, and even though he was so much bigger than you, you worked so hard to make sure you got that toy, you put all your might into it, your entire body into it, and even went so far as to bite Lo’ak so he could let go. He still got the toy, but it was dented and almost broken when he did, and you said something that Neteyam will never forget: everything I let go of has claw marks on it. That was a complaint at the time, said in huffing and puffing, with puffy red eyes and an adorable pout, but Neteyam thought it was something that defined you as person your whole life. You held on to what you loved, until it bled, until there was nothing left. You were the one that kissed him first, that asked to have sex. You were took the risk, because you knew it was worth it, and he was so grateful. You came here, despite the pain and the hurt, despite not knowing what you’d find, and gave Neteyam a chance to finally be the brave one, at least once. He owed you his whole happiness, and he’d make sure you’d never forget it. 

You rose to your feet, finding it hard to put on your clothes when all you wanted was to stay here with him, with the soundtrack of the waves crashing on the shore and the birds chirping away eagerly. He looked at you, admiring your body that he could never get over or used to, that he’ll continue to worship and cherish, that he’ll forever strive to know better than he knows himself, because what better way in there to live than buried and lost in you?

“I will ask you one last time, Neteyam. Are you sure you want to do this? Because you can’t change your mind after today. You’re stuck with me.” 

Neteyam got up from the ground, and picked you up with ease bridal style, his long braids tickling your neck. 

“Vol, the only thing in the world I want is to be stuck with you forever. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. And I know that now. Confessing to you, hearing you say you felt the same way, for the first time in my life, I felt free. Like I finally know who I am and what I want. I want to go home, and I want to be with you. That’s it. No titles, no tsaheylu, nothing will ever mean anything if it’s not done with you. So let’s just go watch my brother get some, so we can start our life together.”

You smiled and traced your fingers over his features, caressing his forehead, and nose that scrunched slightly under your touch, and cheeks and lips, and your smile widened as he shuddered beneath your fingertips. The man was whipped, and you were glad. Cause you were, too, so it was only fair. 

The ceremony was beautiful. She was beautiful. Tall and turquoise skinned, with luscious, long, curly hair and a supple, jewellery-adorned body, she was everything Lo’ak could have ever wanted, and based on the few stories that Neteyam’s told you, she was. Jake insisted that you stayed. You were family, this was a happy time, and you should be here to celebrate. And so you stayed. And you watched as the Tsa’hik symbolically bound their destinies together with a piece of woven thread. You watched as she brought their heads together and made them recite words of promise and forever, looking into each other’s eyes, praying to Eywa for a fruitful mateship and for healthy offsprings, and you cried happy tears, excited tears, when you realised that your little brother was getting to spend the rest of his life with someone he loves, someone kind and compassionate, who is a good balance to his flamboyant, irresponsible personality, who can mend his heart and show him what it’s like to be put first, the way he’s always wanted. You look at your own mate, and at the rest of your family surrounding you, and you’re happy it’s all finally out in the open. That they can finally know, that in their midst, the greatest love story they have ever seen was born and thrived, and they got to be privy to it. And you were glad that they didn’t take it nearly as harshly as you thought they might, and that the world won’t get to miss you, and miss him, for it will finally know a love like yours, a love that is beyond this life and the next, a love that stories and songs will be written about, a story others will aspire to. 

After the ceremony, you had to watch as they left, just the two of them, headed towards the Tree of Souls, where you were just a few hours ago, and knowing what they were going to do made you act out in fake nausea, because that was your baby brother and you didn’t want to imagine him doing things that would imply that he’s finally an adult, and he’d one day have his own kids to traumatise. You assumed Neteyam felt the same, as he looked uneasy towards where the pair was headed, and you laughed and tried to distract him, and yourself. You tried to think of anything else, like Tuk, and Kiri, like Jake and Neytiri, like the beautiful beach and the sea and the animals inhabiting it, like how this place truly was a living, breathing paradise, and how you’d love to visit as often as you could, which you assumed you would have to, since Neteyam was coming with you. 

“So…” Norm started, scratching his head awkwardly, as the crowd dispersed after the ceremony. “Anyone want to address the elephant in the room, or…?” 

“Right…” Neteyam said, taking a step in front of you, essentially shielding you from what you assumed was his mum’s deadly gaze. “I broke the news to my family yesterday… that I am coming back home. I will be returning to the forest with you, as that is my place, and my home. I have been in love with one person, my whole life, just one person, and I know it’s strange, and maybe hard or difficult to understand, but mother… if anyone should understand, it’s you. You fell in love with dad, despite the clan’s expectations, and the Tsa’hik’s... with a human. And look what happened, look what it ended up being. It ended up being everything. I know you don’t approve right now, and you’ve always given her a hard time, and I tried to understand, but now I will ask you to understand. Understand that she is the most beautiful, empathetic, intelligent, capable person I know. That she didn’t choose to be human, or to be born here, on this planet her body isn’t made for, but she gave it her all, and her best. And she made the best of her circumstances. And she’s brave, and she has a strong-heart. Like you.” 

You felt yourself tear up at Neteyam’s words. He didn’t have to do this, you said to yourself. It didn’t matter anymore, you liked to believe. All these years of needing, craving a mother’s love, some sort of acceptance, it was childish fantasies, you lied to yourself. You didn’t want it anymore. You wanted nothing more. You saw Neytiri approach and gently move his son out of the way. In a turn of events you never saw coming, she kneeled by your side, so you could be eye to eye. She was smiling. 

“You… you saved my Kiri. And for almost 20 years, I watched you be my kids’ sister, their confidant, their best friend… and now their love. For so long, I let the things that haunt me in the middle of the night guide me, and push me away from what I knew was right, because I was scared. Because it is hard to deal with the losses I have had to overcome when you are a walking, talking reminder of them. But you’re not like them. Just like my husband isn’t… just like Norm and Max aren’t… just like Spider isn’t. Thank you, for taking care of Kiri… and for taking care of Neteyam. And while I still have my reservations and concerns, I also have faith in my son, and in Eywa, and she brought you two together for a reason.” 

Then, out of nowhere, she hugged you. Your skin was getting pricked and scratched from her beaded clothes, but you didn’t care. You just stood there, stunned and awed at the interaction, so much so that you were startled as she reached for your limp arms and wrapped them around herself, chuckling slightly. You couldn’t help tightening your grasp on her, and crying in the crook of her neck. You wanted it, even now. Even after all these years. You wanted nothing more. 

“I am sorry, child. I’m sorry I wasn’t the mother you never had, and always needed. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you because of my own shortcomings. But I am here now.”

“Thank you.” 

The ride home was quiet and peaceful, a sense of solace as you sat in front of Neteyam, flush against his chest on his beautiful ikran, who was cooing affectionally, as you were patting it on the back of the neck, taking in the beauty of Pandora, that you didn’t quite notice on the way here, too preoccupied with seeing him again to care. You held Neteyam’s arm and comforted him, and despite knowing he made the right decision, despite the happiness overflowing around him at getting to go back, getting to go home, getting to keep you, you knew he was sad about leaving his family behind, sad at the sea of growing pains sometimes ebbing, but now definitely flowing in his life that was rapidly changing and evolving, paying little mind to the whiplash it was leaving in its wake. It would be an adjustment for both of you, for the Sullys and for the whole clan, but one that you were excited to brave through with him. 

The days were slow, and dragging, as you continued to train and learn to be one of the people, but they were also incredible satisfying, and exciting, and joyous. Because your new teacher was kind, and patient and loving, and you got to take him home every night. And where he got to teach you the ways of the Na’vi, and how to fight, you got to teach him how to be human, and how to love. Where he took so much out of you during the day, he got to pay for it by giving it to you, over and over, during the night, until you both passed out on top of each other in exhaustion and bliss. Where he spent the days mostly in silence and giving subtle commands, he spent the nights showering you in kisses and confessions, whispering how much he loves you in your ear, how lucky he is to have you, how he’s never thought happiness like this could even exist. 

And the best thing about it was your friendship never changed. You still made fun of each other, and told each other everything. You laughed and cried together, you shouted at each other in anger in annoyance, you bickered and fought and made up, and it was easy, like breathing. Like it always has been. 

Your kiss, my cheek, I watched you leave

Your smile, my ghost, I fell to my knees

When you're young, you just run

But you come back to what you need

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

“Happy birthday, Vol.” 

“So, how would rate your 19th birthday compared to your 18th?” 

You thought about it for a while. 

“Well, I can say it’s had a lot less booze, but a lot better sex.” You both laughed while your head was rested on his shoulder, as you watched your favourite season of your favourite show, sprawled in bedsheets, his naked body glimmering in the dark and reflecting in your eyes as you took his beauty in, that you never got accustomed to, no matter how many times you saw it. When the credits rolled in and the music faded, leaving a dark room behind, silent apart from your breaths, that were getting laboured once more as desire built up in your core yet again, you straddled him and watched his face get closer to yours, until your lips met, until his tongue explored your mouth and neck, leaving traces of him on you, until your hands trailed his chest and abdomen, lingering over his abs, until they reached what they were looking for, until he made you scream, over and over, until you let him. 

“You’re a fiend.” 

“I’m a fiend?! What about you?” Neteyam shook his head, and you scoffed and rolled your eyes at what you thought was a preposterous statement. 

“Let’s think about it. Who seduced who the first time? Who was drunk off their ass and asked to fuck, huh?” 

“Who kept getting boners around their best friend until one day she had the guts to do something about it, huh?”

He rolled you off of him with ease and pinned you to the ground, smirking and pushing his hips into your still dripping core. 

“You know why I kept getting boners, Vol? Because I could smell you. I could smell how wet you were around me. Your scent drove me nuts for so long. It still does. You intoxicate me. You drive me fucking crazy, Vol.” 

You said nothing as you looked in his eyes, as your heart fluttered much like the butterflies that were digging their way through your stomach.

“‘teyam…” He shuts you up with kiss, tender and soft, so unlike his words or actions, and you melt into it, and the fear creeps in your chest as you fall for him deeper, as you half-consider just telling him, just coming out with it, because fuck, you loved him and this wasn’t helping. 

“I have something for you. Birthday present.” Suddenly, he got off you, leaving you a breathless mess, and retrieved something from the pile of clothes on the floor. He plopped himself next to you and pulled you close, until you were resting his head on his torso, and you snuggled into him, glancing at the object in his hand curiously.

His words were soft-spoken and quiet, almost bashful, and you noticed his heart picking up speed, thumping loudly in the ear that was pressed tightly against his chest. “I didn’t know what to do for your birthday, considering you’re already blessed with the best gift in the world… my presence in your life, that is…” you snickered sarcastically, and he continued. “…but, every time I go on a mission, I think of you, and your voice that tells me to be safe, and I see your eyes looking back at me as you stitch my wounds afterwards, and I make it a point to grab a pebble at the end of each mission, to give to you. But, for one reason or another, I never did. So here.” He grabbed your hand in his, turning it upwards so your palm was facing the ceiling, and dropped the item in it. 

A necklace. A gorgeous, stunning, impossibly beautiful choker, with tens, if not hundreds of beads and pebbles of different colours and textures woven into it. It looked majestic, fit for a queen, or a Tsa’hik, and you felt tears pool in your eyes at its meaning, at how long he must have been collecting these for, with you in mind, at how long it must have taken to make, at how much it meant to him, and now to you. He took it from you and you held your hair so he could fasten it around your neck. It fit you perfectly, and you smiled up at him, raising an eyebrow. 

“How did you know it was going to fit?” He smiled and your fingers caressed your cheek, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 

“Let’s just say I’ve had my hand wrapped around your throat enough times to have a pretty good frame of reference.”

You couldn’t help the blush in your cheeks, or the way your reached back for your new gift so you could trace your fingers over it, imprinting the feel of every bead in your mind, thinking of each one and trying to correlate it to a time, or a place, to a hunt or a battle he was part of that you weren’t, but how you were ever-present in his mind. 

“Do you like it?” 

“I love it, ‘teyam. Thank you.” 

“Making this necklace, it was a good reminder that you have been the only constant in my life since I was born. No matter how much my life has changed, how much I changed, you’ve always been there to brave the storm with me. And I love you, Vol. You’re my best friend. Forever.” 

“Forever.” 

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

The high of the dream lingered as you woke up, as you had to deal with its remnants that were tattooed in your mind, as you had to once more breathe in the fact that somehow waking up is better than what you just left behind, that despite how amazing these memories were, the reality of the man you love snoring softly next to you was infinitely better. It was, it always was. It was hard to find the will to get out of bed when he was in your bed, naked and comfortable, and all you wanted was to take advantage of the fact that it was your birthday, and he should be submitting to your every whim right now, and the first thing you wanted was him, deep inside of you. You smiled as you realised this day somehow stopped belonging to you two years ago, and you couldn’t find it in you to be upset about it, not when it was a reminder of this formidable love and where it all started. 

After a long, tiring, satisfying morning, you got up from the bed and showered, finding comfort in the water hitting your skin and untying the knots in your tense muscles. When the two of you made your way through the village to join everyone for breakfast, you were greeted with a myriad of screams of happy birthday, from humans, avatars and Na'vi alike, and you felt a surge of joy in your heart, and a swell of gratitude for the unforeseeable change in attitude from the people of the clan. For the first time in your life, you felt welcomed here, and you didn't know whether it was Tarsem's influence, or Neteyam being back, or the Na'vi having another reminder, now that the Sky People were back, that not all humans are inherently evil, or your strenuous effort to be one of them and join in the battles and the training, but regardless of what it was, it was a gratifying change. Neteyam smirked in your direction, and you scoffed at the way he’s been acting weird all morning, a stupid smile plastered on his face. 

"Birthday girl, come on. We've been dying to give you your present." Max had the biggest smile on his face and an item you couldn't place in his hand. 

"Here. Happy birthday, from all of us." 

You raised an eyebrow. 

"From all of you? That's a big present." 

You took the curious contraption in your hands and twirled it around. It was lanky and weird, and it looked old, before your time, and even their time. You noticed as you inspected it that it had an eyepiece that resembled that of a microscope.

"That, kid, is called a stereoscope. Look into it." 

You did, and as you put your eyes in the socket, a big picture of... cells came into view. But they weren't cells you've ever seen before. 

"What is this?" 

"Those, kid... are your cells. Actually, if we are being specific, they are your future Avatar's cells." 

The stereoscope fell from your hands and you were happy Spider had catlike reflexes because it looked precious and unique and you didn't want to break it, but God, in that moment, you really couldn't care less. 

"What did you say?" 

"You know all the things we got from the humans that we didn't know what to do with or what they were? Well, we figured it out, kid. You, Spider and Max are all getting Avatars. And their technology massively improved, too. They're growing like crazy, it shouldn't take more than a year. By next year, you might be able to take it out for a spin."

This love is alive back from the dead

These hands had to let it go free, and

This love came back to me

You turned around and looked at Neteyam, who had tears in his eyes, and you jumped in his arms, and screamed, screamed at the top of your lungs, because what the hell was this and how could you be so lucky to get everything you’ve ever wanted? As if the universe was willing to reward you for 20 years of hurt and inaptitude and incertitude and unfairness, and you had to admit, it was doing a good job at redeeming itself. 

“Vol… I think Eywa has heard my prayers. Vol, I love you so much, and you’re mine, forever. And one day, you’ll take your Iknimaya and your own ikran, and you’ll have your place among the people. And one day, our kids will run through these tents and through these forests, and their laughter will fill these caves and our hearts, and I can’t wait, I can’t wait to keep you, and to love you every day, for the rest of my life, and to thank my lucky star that I found you, and you found me, and you chose me.” 

You raised your hand to your necklace, that you wore every day now, thinking of all it represented, touching every pebble - each one, in your mind, a memory, or a touch, or a kiss, or a laugh, each one an i love you, an I miss you said to each other, each one a second, a minute, an hour, a day, a month spent together, each one a new memory you’d get to make, a touch, or a kiss, or a laugh you’d get to experience every day, each one an I love you or an I miss you you’ll say until you ran out of breath, you embraced it all, and embraced him, too - for good measure.

“Forever.”

This love left a permanent mark

This love is glowing in the dark

These hands had to let it go free, and

This love came back to me

A/N: there it is, besties. the happy ending to cruel summer. honestly, i just wanted to say a massive thank you if you managed to reach this far. when i started this blog, a few months ago, and posted the first chapter of illicit affairs, i did it on a whim, i did because i thought why not? Now, 2000 followers later, I get to write so many stories I never thought I'd ever get to, or even think of, and it's all because of you.

Cruel Summer means a lot to me, as i think it signifies my growth as a writer, my growth on this platform, and as a person learning through deal with my own personal issues through my characters. I loved writing it so much, I cried so much, probably more than with any other story I wrote, and I hope I managed to make you feel something, and maybe think, bc that's all I want, that's all anybody that does any sort of art can want i think.

Thank you for coming on this journey with me, and I hope you stay for what's next, bc I'm not done, as long as there's still people that want to be here. I love you and am very grateful to all 2000 of you.

Taglist: @liluvtojineteyam @pinkpantheris @fanboyluvr@bananafruityawne @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @netemoon @www-interludeshadow-com@jackiehollanderr

[lovebillyhargrove]

Harringrove Seasons au. All credit for the idea belongs to @akioukun ❤️

Billy's not the only one who doesn't want to let go. Inspired by "Summer moved on" by A-ha, listened to on the loop (the only way to listen to great songs imo). 08/09 are my most fav months and if I could wander the August/September woods forever, I would

Song lines are italicized

***

Summer's moving on, Steve knows it is. He can feel it slipping away with every passing day, with every leaf turning its colour, with every colder night and every flock of birds leaving for warmer places. Summer is losing its hold, and the more power he gets, the less he wants it.

Bright joyful green is fading,

And the way it goes you can't tag along.

Steve's meeting Billy on the brink of the forest, where the fields spread wide, rolling down the hill like a vast canvas.

He has come prepared.

"Remember the flower crown you gave me? I kept it until the flowers wilted and then I put it in the river and let it be taken away by the current."

Billy is looking at Steve, a question in his deep clear blue eyes

"I want to give you a gift as well."

Steve is holding a necklace made of orangey red rowan tree berries

"It will look beautiful on your tanned skin. Let me put it around your neck."

Billy lets him, and it does look good.

"I love the fiery colour. Thank you."

Steve can see that Billy is pleased.

"I'll keep it. The berries will dry up, and I can still wear it."

"You are right. But wait, that is not all."

Steve gets down on one knee and picks up a big crown of red and golden leaves

"A crown for a crown. This will look wonderful on your sunlit hair."

He puts it on Billy's head, and they both smile because summer looks beautiful and just a tiny bit peacocky.

Steve's pointing at a large leaf pile, a bed of yellow, red and orange

"Lay down with me, summer."

They are laying in the heap of crunchy leaves, where it is so warm and cozy, Billy's eyelids immediately turn heavy with sleep. It's quiet and peaceful all around.

Billy doesn't fall asleep though.

They are watching the clouds sail by, slowly drifting to faraway alluring lands

The clouds are distant and silent. They have seen it all. One might think they are indifferent to the things they witness, and one might be right. Or wrong. Maybe all the rains that accumulate themselves in those dark gray thunderclouds are from all the sorrows the skies have watched unfold, and all the storms are tears, shed in compassion and anguish.

Summer and autumn have come together.

Lost in the moment.

Moments will pass.

Memories will remain as long as we keep them.

Billy is shuffling and huffing in slight annoyance.

"The silly bugs are tickling my feet."

Steve laughs and hides his face in Billy's chest, inhaling that sweet sweet summer smell

"Stay,

He's whispering

Don't just walk away."

And Billy answers, tree branches swaying and meadows singing

"I'll stay.

I'll stay another day.

A day just like today,

With the sky the bluest blue,

And forests all shades of yellow."

This is enough for Steve.

Everything around them is whispering

☀️🍂 E t e r n a l f o r e v e r e t e r n a l 🍁☀️

It echoes in Steve's uneasy heart and dulls the yearning.

Seasons can't stay.

But they always come back.

Also this and this

As always, a huge thank you to @dragonflylady77 for being the absolute best 💖

[cellody]

DWC: Day V

MIRACLE & TENSION @daily-writing-challenge MENTIONS: @rylandfalkov, @twosidedsana & @vixannya​ (The Elements)

Air.

Ironic, really… considering how much the last two elements had seemed like a fresh breath of that. Knowing what he’d now be getting into made him want to hold his breath. Thank the gods, too, that signs had been set up to remind the once-upon-a-time acolyte about what exactly would be around the bend—and how untamed that subject matter would continue to become the later the hour grew.

Lance was an adult, though. He was sometimes teased for not looking it and more-often belittled as a crybaby but that was exactly why he wanted to be able to say he partook in every art room; he wanted others to see it as a miracle and reconsider what little they knew about the cellist. Yes, he had fragile health that paired with his lightweight form and hushed volume, but there was a lot of strength that could come from softness. That underestimation in question was one such feat.

...Now or never, then. A deep huff in was drawn before slowly letting it out ounce by ounce, step by step, and heartbeat by heartbeat. Here, he was ushered from the admiration of paintings to the admiration of bodies—the emphasis on ambiance and food replaced by the emphasis on lustful entertainment and drugs. That was not to say these rooms were drawl in comparison to what Lance personally favored, but they did succeed in illuminating where the eyes were to wander as his own faintly-glowing pair of greens took it all in once paused by the doorway.

The stage was ethereal. So... sleek. The architecture here seemed made up of marble accenting and pillars that reached illusioned skies of gray, distant threats of thunder flowing right along with the club’s rumbling beat. Seemed Lance had just wandered in when some sort of suspense had been building up amongst the dancers because all the lights in the room dramatically and suddenly dimmed so that only those beside seating and along pathways could keep people from tripping. The music halted all the same. For a moment… the only thing that could be heard as everyone turned in hushed confusion was a breeze skirting leaves across the dancers’ feet—or where they would have been, for in the next instance, spotlights mimicked lightning and every pole lit up when the performers upon them expertly dropped into sideways splits mere inches above the ground. This caused quite a lot of loose layers to fall open or altogether off of each flexible pair of hips, and this, in turn, clearly had the entire room erupting into whistles and applause.

Now that vision was restored and servers could resume treating those in attendance, Lance was stopped by a particularly height-blessed troll with abs adorned in silvery-blue paints. The waiters were as different from the prior rooms as what sat upon their offered trays; rather than suit-like uniforms, they donned little more than the dancers had and finger foods were replaced by a myriad of joints. Before Lance’s face even had time to react with a baffled blush in both ears, the gentleman cooed, “What do you crave?”

The smaller of the two cleared his throat and unraveled his fan to fidget with. “Um... just—just water, please.”

A curious, squinting gaze swept up and down the luthier’s appearance. “Water for the lamb,” he grinned. “Coming right up.”

Water... for the lamb? Brows knit. It wasn’t until the troll had turned to begin filling an empty glass upon his platter that Lance announced, “Actually... some red wine. I’ve no preference on brand.”

Blood for the goat.

Something about this got the troll to quietly cackle as he made the switch to head for the bar (where the softer alcohols sat less asked for), nodding. The dancers appeared to wrap up their assigned time in the same moment as another bout of hearty clapping followed each performer’s bow. Murmurs and conversation casually replenished the room and Lance took this moment to try and find a spot further in lest he become honed in on by one of the more private workers. However…

“Good to see you somewhere other than The Antonidas Memorial~”

Lance’s pacemaker-synced bracelet blipped to signify a hiccuping pulse as he wheeled around to greet the face of one he was sure had just been reenacting cursive lines with arms and legs above the stage. His requested glass of wine was being held out in offering though he neglected to realize this until four more seconds of staring. “—Ryland?”

“Ahh~! My name is remembered.” Heavens have mercy; that grin was about as bright as the spotlights had been. The wine was lifted to catch those spring eyes and outstretched a second time so that Lance could accept it with a murmur of thanks. “I about bumped into the bartender on my way to my break! Offered to deliver this as an apology. Much different than your usual tea, hm?”

“Right,” he blinked, lashes briefly fluttering as recognition dawned on him. That was it—they’d spoken a few times at Fancy Cakes though it’d been years since he last attended one. And… Ryland was far more covered up back then. And sharing in Sana’s company. Here and now, singled out, the feeling was entirely different. Foreign, even. “I-I can’t believe you recall me after so long…” Half a smile was mustered after forcing his first swallow of Dalaran Red lest he become dehydrated. “—I am afraid it is my curse to only ever catch the ends of performances but the climax of that one was magical.”

Hands now freed of their delivery went to playfully poke at each of those livestock-akin horns that birthed many a nickname. “You’re quite unique! Pretty sure I remember Sana making you squirm a bit, too; never would have expected you here. Aaand thank you very much! Does that mean you are enjoying yourself?”

Good. Lance’s ego was non-existent but that seemed to make the demon in him purr once; being brave enough to fish out other’s compliments had been precisely what he desired in cutting tension out of his social life. “Yes, very much so. So far, at least.”

“So far?! However may I help make sure you stay pleased?” A rather literal wink and nudge was delivered to that smaller waist.

Again, his throat cleared. How amusing it must have been to watch Lance feign interest in everything but the sparkling specimen before him—still covered, even, where it mattered, by drapery. “Well… since you are dancing here…” Ryland took to emphasizing that fact by swaying his hips. “…perhaps that means you know Vixannya?”

An amused groan sounded off when the half-elf stopped. “Really, Lance,” was drawled through a grin. “Yes. I think she’ll likely be around the red carpet or Fire room the most. Why, am I not what you are after?” It was worth one last teasing try, at least.

He knew full and well what Ryland was insinuating whether it was just a part of his job or something (impossibly) genuine... but he wasn’t sure how best to reply without potentially offending the poor man. It thus took him a moment of bashful shrugging before he recited, “I really only came for the art—of which you are a part of. But I’m more of a viewer than a…” His nose wrinkled. How to put it? “…kinetic… enthusiast.” The thought of mentioning his partner back home had also come to mind multiple times already but he knew that wasn’t always a deterrent when so many people nowadays were into polyamory. He thus harbored the name like some sort of schoolboy’s secret.

“Bah. I get it; I’ll keep my dick away.” Pat, pat went a glitter-dusted hand atop Lance’s head meant both to offer a brotherly sort of gesture and dispense some of the material into his hairline. Had to help the timid thing get into the party vibe somehow.

Lips perked into a smile per that bluntness and then a chortling grin when someone unknown brushed past Ry and copped a feel of his rear. As expected, this completely stole the almost-naked man’s attention and he turned to stalk after the giggling lady. Lance, meanwhile, deeply inhaled the aroma of his drink just above its mauve surface, sipped, and closed his eyes. This was… kind of nice.

Just then, however, somewhere in a not-so-distant room of activity, a crescendo of vowels burst forth through the muffle of walls. “Aoohh~!”

Nevermind. Time for the gallery.

[ratiosalaryman]

TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER!

I. favourite colours: greens and black

II. favourite flavours: pumpkin, mint, dark chocolate

III. favourite genres: Sci fi, fantasy, historical fiction (Shogun is being remade!)

IV. favourite music: I am a metal head, hard rock type, but love me some pop music. I really listen to just about anything, including rap, and occasionally k-pop.

V. favourite movies: ...I am not sure. I like so many. I go through waves of different movies every year. Korean zombie during halloween, Ghibli when I'm depressed, LOTR any time, I guess if I had to pick a favorite, it would be gangster/ detective noir movies like The Godfather or China Town.

VI. favourite series: Honestly, right now? Chainsaw Man. And of course JJK. I really like Made in Abyss but I definitely don't reccomend that to anyone so if you watch it please don't judge me as a person ahhh. I really liked Dorohedoro. I am a big fan of Better Call Saul, Mindhunter, and True Detectives.

VII. last song: I uh rediscovered Linkin Park's unreleased stuff. Fighting Myself.

VIII. last series: I am working on Evil, of course JJK as it comes out, and I just started Blue Eyed Samurai.

IX. last movie: ..The Hangover (i'd never seen it ok)

X. currently reading: Red Seas Under Red Skies by Scott Lynch and Mastery by Robert Greene

XI. currently watching: This dumb commercial on youtube.

XII. currently working on: Holiday season as a bartender. Still looking for a software engineering job. Writing more often since I have sorely missed it.

Tagged: @mcwscollective Tagging: @cursedcalamity @circusmxnkeys @strawdxll @inun4ki @sukunxa @ofovertime @foraltruism @6cular @parieha

[find-the-devil]

V. Wave

All of the ocean’s terror comes from the unknown. The yawn beneath the blue that you can only see with eyes open beneath the surface. Born from the 320 000 or so worldwide drownings each year. It’s that unseen, unheard hand that pulls you by the ankle, the little currents that crawl on sand, sweeps up shell fragments, and small rocks and swells and grows and blooms to steal you away. Those that either keep you among the depths, use your rot to feed or let you float to the topmost waves to be found bloated and sunburned and mutilated. Missing eyes, teeth, skin, hair, fingertips and nails, with innards hanging from a jagged, devoured hole in your abdomen. Whatever seagoer spots you won’t be sure if you’re an errant log in the distance or something once human. He will keep his engine on and leave that mystery with the tides.

What you are now will be at the mercy of the unrelenting strength that ebbs and flows with rhythm and calm. 

Robin never feared the ocean. He’d been one or two times in his late thirties, corralled by the call of bigger things, taller buildings, longer roads, different people, something new. He never learned how to swim. His childhood was spent by the lakeshore. Fishing, canoeing and the like were taught and learned with an intrusive amount of supervision. His grandfather had drowned a week before his birth.

He dipped his feet in the cold water, let the silty sand weave in and out, between his toes, felt the hot sun beat down on his back, accompanied by the pleasant burn that warmed his skin, one that subverted every precaution he took, marked his body with an all encompassing red mark that stung to touch. He’d liked the ocean, for what it’s worth, and the city, with all its vitality and jubilance, but found himself reeled back into the treeline after a few years. 

He hadn’t thought about the beach since he’d left it.

Rob saw waves now in the swaying pines, he watched the rhythm of the breeze on tall-standing leaves and grasses. Bend forward, stand up straight, lean down, snap back up into place, repeat until the wind ceases. There was a movement in the motionless forest and field below, curling eddies of air that flowed through the stalks. Whirlpools disturbed the blades and weeds. That silencing sound, like being told to keep quiet, soothed from afar, without a hand on your shoulder to steady you as you wept. 

He felt water trickling by his feet, soles bare in the soft, damp grass as he stared up into the abyssal sky. He hadn’t wet himself, he’d checked. The water around his ankles was cool, stung his skin as it rose to mid-shin, then fell away, waning into a dark he couldn’t see. The soil on which he stood was not mud, but closer to gritty sand, and the grass seemed to shrink back into the earth from which it grew, shimmying back into whatever seed it had come from. 

He wondered absently for the garden and the house behind him, but watched as the waves lapped at his feet, shimmering like a watery ink under white light. This beacon shone not only in the skies, but smaller, the size of his fist, from a small fishing ship that floated in the ebbing tides on the furthermost edge of the cornfield, just past the forest line, green blades shivering against the metal hull. Its name was written, but unreadable from a distance, faded red paint chipped and illegible. The sound of waves hitting the small boat filled the night, the wind nearly stopped entirely but still a faint, oceanic breeze could be felt against his dewy skin, beads of sweat lining his brow. The corn changed, evolved in front of his wide opened eyes, into some marshland weed growing from the mucky pond floor, water trickling forth from the wall of liquid that seemed to stand of its own volition. 

The tinny boat was unmanned, it creaked and groaned as the tide jostled it, rocking it every which way the waves went, with the gentleness of a cradle rocked by a summer’s warm breeze. It inched closer with the pond’s movements, away from the trees, white light guiding its journey. Rob questioned : what would happen when it reached the edge? Would it fall into the shallow water pooling at his feet, or would it turn back, bouncing off of whatever invisible forcefield kept the pond together?

He felt something move just on top of his feet, a catfish, like those he’d caught as a young boy, perhaps a stray clump of algae. Frigid and slimy, it sent a shiver up his leg that coursed along the length of his spine before fizzling out at the base of his neck and disappearing into his shoulders. An urge flashed through him; swim through the pond weeds, climb inside the boat. The white light in the distance rocked with the wind and waves, hull moaning with the rhythm like that of wheezing breaths.  The floating water’s surface wavered with a breeze, as a quiet hum trembled through the earth, like someone holding a note for as long as their lungs allowed them. It was an all-encompassing song.     

Distantly, a tremendous sound, like an arena shouting and yelling, chanting and urging on their strongest fighter, rang out in the night, from deep within the pines. A noise, like bones breaking and cracking accompanied it, like a fast rattling sound, as if a windchime made of brittle, hollow sticks was shaken by a violent gust of wind.    

The earth trembled and water rippled around his ankles. Vibrations, like that of a struggling diaphragm reverberated through the air as a booming, thunderous noise drew closer with haste and dreadful intent. 

Soon, the moon was obstructed, no longer shining dimly from behind the wispy clouds. Now all he saw came from a small white light that drew nearer. A mountain had erected itself among the trees and it moved like satin in the wind, undulating as one body, encompassing the world, pillaging the woodland in its wake. 

The wave, like a crashing avalanche of liquid rocks and stones, littered with tree columns and carcasses and soil, fell forward as if tripping over itself, with all its might and force, as if lost to its own whim, as powerless to keep itself from hurtling forth as Robin would be to stop it. 

He watched it’s approach with more curiosity than fear, held tightly by something he could not feel but that restricted his every motion, save for breathing and a slight hand tremble as the boat in the distance began to arch with the water, light slowly rising overhead like the mounting sun. 

The wind screamed, a chest-tearing cry, bloody from the vigor of it. The sound reverberated against the titan that swelled and grew and bloomed above. The howl could not cease, it pained Rob’s ears, made them bleed, trickle down his neck into the water rushing at his feet. He fell to his knees, dropping into the knife-like rapids, each successive stream of water cutting coldly at his legs, like blades of ice. 

The wind only carried the sound, it did not make it. The wail erupted from Robin’s throat. His lungs hiccuped in a desperate attempt to stop the carnage wrought upon them by the scream, but he only grew louder, drowning out the wave’s cataclysmic, quaking voice. 

On impact, the cold front split his skin into icy lesions, as every bone in his body fractured, as if shredded by the might of the behemoth that fell upon him. Lungs burst, pierced by his shin gone astray, he cried still, numbed by the chill and inhaling water only to force it out by the insurmountable will of whatever was dying in his chest, his heart perhaps, or his soul that drowned with him, unable to escape the weight of the ocean that had found itself above him. He lied, beaten, crushed and overpowered among the ruined grasses in the inky depths of the sea, with only a white light, the size of his fist, as his bearing. 

**

“That must’ve been something.” spoke Ennis, as Rob awoke without notice, sitting up in the grass, clawing at firm ground as he panted. Seeing the man’s face, he continued “I reckon a bad dream, you were squirming and humming or something, twitching your hand.” 

“Wh-huh?” he replied, barely enough usable breath in his lungs to get the sound out. 

“I don’t know, but hey, you’re good now.” he was kneeling in the grass, tending to the coyote pelt. “After you showered you came out here, you fell asleep about 10 minutes ago, I’m not sure how much you remember, but you look pretty spooked so I thought I’d remind you. Y’know, bearings and all that.” 

“Memory’s fine.” he said somewhat weakly, as if winded. “What time is it?” he finally met the man’s eyes, although he remained otherwise disoriented

“Half past 1:00. Are you sleepin’ alright, on the whole? Don’t want you passing out, fainting from fatigue or any of that.” he asked, with a slight worry to his tone, brow furrowed. He set his blade down into the grass, loosening his grasp on the hide. 

Robin had been sleeping better than he should have. He knew that. Every night he lay one room over from a man who’d killed off a hefty chunk of the town’s limited population. But his rest had been as good as it was at home. He wanted to feel bad, icky, disturbed by the fact that he was doing well, but couldn’t, rather he felt something adjacent : this should bother me a Hell of a lot more than it is.

Robin knew his skin was thicker, more of a crust than a layer. A certain apathy, not learned, not taught, not even enforced, had grafted itself to him sometime in the womb. He’d always been less reactive, less shocked, less outraged in the face of tragedy and horror than those around him. Everyone likened it to a maturity his other actions never manifested. He remained childish into his twenties, and boyish into his forties. Only now, in his fifties, had he finally hit adulthood, in the emotional sense. And yet still he was unoffended by all that is vile. This absence of disdain is what led him to detective work, he found himself engrossed and beguiled by every blood trail. 

He heard crows call in the distance, hidden from view within the pines. 

“I’m sleeping fine.” he replied at last, with a small shrug as he untensed his shoulders, looking over the bone-dry field, feeling the dewy grass on his sock-clad feet. “I guess the food might’ve knocked me out.” 

“Good to know. Old man needs a rest after his meal.” Ennis teased, a hint of a smile in his dark eyes as he continued working the coyote’s fur. 

“Shut up. 10 years and you won’t laugh in the face of a good nap. Oh, and word to the wise : have an alarm. You’re gonna wake up next Tuesday with your head on the wrong way otherwise. ” he answered with no real offence to his teacher-like tone. 

The other man huffed again, muffled slightly from behind the mask that covered his mouth and nose. Pollen drifted in the cloudless sky, bright under the shining sun and lazy, moving in the slow air eddies. The deciduous trees, aspens of some kind, shook and shivered overhead, leaves rustling, sending a pleasant hissing sound into the atmosphere. The breeze blew balmy, hot, like a gust of pure heat. Ennis’ wavy hair clung to the beads of sweat on his forehead as he worked, and Rob felt a wet trail down his spine, seeping into his shirt. He watched the warmth rise.  

“You got anything for lunch?” Robin spoke, rising to his feet with a quiet grunt, brushing off blades of grass from the back of his jeans, smoothing his grey hair with one hand. 

“Whatever you find in the kitchen. The way I see it, my house is your house for as long as you’re here.” Ennis replied, “There’s enough coyote to last for weeks, but there should be some bread, butter, jam, stuff like that.” he wiped the sweat from his head with his forearm. 

“And I’m not gonna find a human head in there?”

“I don't eat people just like I don’t eat fertilizer.” Ennis replied plainly, with a small shrug.

Rob nodded, tilting his head as he considered his point. 

“D’you want anything?” 

“I’m in a bit of a hairy situation.” he answered, lifting his arms, displaying his open palms, covered in coyote fur. 

The position, his knees on the grass, hands open, facing the sky, sun gleaming on his golden hair, a slight haze in the air, the skin of a slain beast across his legs, gave the moment a religious quality, as if the man in his ivory mask had his palms upturned in reverence or prayer. The lonely sound of wind, a deep whistle in the pines gave Rob a sense of solitude in the presence of the other, calming, like the feeling of a moment alone after a tenuous time with unsavory company.  

He caught a glimpse of the new garden, it’s hand riddled with small rodential teeth marks and lesions as he began to bloat. He turned on his heels and headed inside, shutting the door with a small click lest the house’s cool be invaded by the outside’s sweltering heat.

[jakobdodson]

2022 in Music

Here is a note about the music I listened to in 2022. I hope you enjoy it!

Favorite Albums of 2022

Blue Rev - Alvvays

Banger after banger after banger on here!

Favorite Songs:

After The Earthquake

Tile By Tile

Belinda Says

Bored In Bristol

A Light For Attracting Attention - The Smile 

This is essentially a Radiohead album with a jazzy twist. Accordingly, it belongs here, among my favorites of the year. 

Favorite Songs:

Speech Bubbles

Open The Floodgates

Free In The Knowledge

Skirting On The Surface

Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You - Big Thief

My most anticipated release of the year that easily surpassed my highest expectations. It explodes into several beautifully creative directions and where it could overwhelm with its ambition it tends to endear and make you smile.

Favorite Songs:

Change

Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe in You

Flower of Blood

Red Moon

Promise Is a Pendulum

12,000 Lines

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Runners Up

Dawn FM - The Weeknd 

Once Twice Melody - Beach House

LABYRINTHITIS - Destroyer 

Ice, Planets, Lungs, Mushrooms, and Lava - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard

Dripfield - Goose

Music for Animals - Nils Frahm

Liked It

Misadventures of Doomscroller - Dawes

I’m Not Sorry, I’m Just Being Me - King Hannah

Good and Green Again - Jake Xerxes Fussell

Hell on Church Street - Punch Brothers

Time Skiffs - Animal Collective

Ants from Up There - Black Country, New Road 

Humble Quest - Maren Morris

The Joy of Music - Ben Rector

The Jacket - Widowspeak

Underground Complex No. 1 - Typhoon 

Fear of the Dawn - Jack White

Omnium Gatherum - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard

Giving The World Away - Hatchie 

Break Me Open - S. Carey

Romeo & Juliet - Ryan Adams

One is One - Delta Spirit

Two Ribbons - Let’s Eat Grandma

Big Time - Angel Olsen

Preacher’s Daughter - Ethel Cain

Cruel Country - Wilco

The Loneliest Time - Carly Rae Jepsen

Surrender - Maggie Rogers

Teeth Marks - S.G. Goodman 

Take It Like A Man - Amanda Shires

Sons Of - Sam Prekop & John McEntire

Chloe and the Next 20th Century - Father John Misty

Reggae Film Star - Damian Jurado

Freakout/Release - Hot Chip

Will Of The People - Muse

WE - Arcade Fire

Birds In The Ceiling - John Moreland

Profound Mysteries II - Röyksopp 

sandhills music - Ben Seretan

The Blue EP - MORE&MORE

I’m Sweating All the Time - Wormy

Heartmind - Cass McCombs

The Liar - John Fullbright

Midnights - Taylor Swift

Changes - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard

Rolling Golden Holy - Bonny Light Horseman

Into the Blue - Broken Bells

I Walked With You a Ways - Plains

Laminated Denim - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard

ILYSM - Wild Pink

Being Funny in a Foreign Language - The 1975

And In The Darkness, Hearts Aglow - Weyes Blood

Schvitz - Vulfpeck

MUNA - MUNA

Cowboy Ballads, Pt. 1 - Jesse Tabish

Drew Winn - Drew Winn

Can I Take My Hounds to Heaven? - Tyler Childers

Blue Skies - Dehd

Harry’s House - Harry Styles

Ali - Vieux Farka & Khruangbin

Meh

Quitters - Christian Lee Huston

Chris - Ryan Adams

Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers - Kendrick Lamar

Plonk - Huerco S.

Palomino - First Aid Kit

Alpha Zulu - Phoenix

God Save the Animals - Alex G

No Rules Sandy - Sylvan Esso

Not from 2022

Ram - Paul McCartney, Linda McCartney 

Plum - Widowspeak

Tago Mago - CAN

Ege Bamyasi - CAN

Night Moves - Bob Seger

Dots & Loops - Stereolab

Haven’t Listened Yet...

ForeverEverAndEverNoMore - Brian Eno

Empire Central - Snarky Puppy

Björk - Fossora

Yeah Yeah Yeahs - Cool It Down

FM - Ryan Adams 

Entering Heaven Alive - Jack White

V I N C E N T - FKJ

Inside Problems - Andrew Bird

Kumoyo Island - Kikagaku Moyo

Dropout Boogie - The Black Keys

Headful of Sugar - Sunflower Bean

Everything Was Beautiful - Spritualized

Electricity- Ibibio Sound Machine

(watch my moves) - Kurt Vile

You Belong There - Daniel Rossen 

El Mirador - Calexico

Unlimited Love - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Things Are Great - Band of Horses

caroline - caroline

Pompeii - Cate Le Bon

The Dream - alt-j

Anaïs Mitchell - Anaïs Mitchell

Laurel Hell - Mitski 

Silver Sash - Wovenhand

Concerts Attended in 2022:

The War on Drugs - Cains Ballroom - Tulsa, OK - 6/4/22

John Fullbright - Fassler Hall - Tulsa, OK - 10/2/22

Spoon - Austin City Limits - Austin, TX - 10/9/22

Goose - Austin City Limits - Austin, TX - 10/9/22

Kacey Musgraves - Austin City Limits - Austin, TX - 10/9/22

Luke Combs - Paycom Center - Oklahoma City, OK - 12/9/22

The Book of Mormon - Eugene O’Neill Theatre - New York, NY - 12/21/22

Links to past lists:

10 Albums that changed my life

2012

2013

2014 

2015

2016

2017 

2018

2019 

2020 

2021 

_________________________________________________

Happy Listening!

Jake

[genxjamerican]

Lila Iké Ft. Joey Bada$$ - Fry Plantain (Official Video) Lila Iké Ft. Joey Bada$$ - Fry Plantain (Official Video) Stream “Fry Plantain” here: https://ift.tt/cgFNHnt Directed by: @djuvii AD: @aka.ruppi DP: @jxsseixmes Producer: @cedestial & quillakat Production co: @djuvisuals & @tnonc PA/art dept: @onaricowan gaffer: @chevotic grip: @forthe.cv/ture location manager: @ayahreece, @edgeaholic makeup: @tonishakong @beautygallery_bykesh hair: @molded_by_mel_ styling: @quillakat bts: @cedestial @raheempurville @rochenaaa Follow Lila Iké: https://ift.tt/q0A7f5n https://ift.tt/FusgCP3 http://www.twitter.com/lilaikeja https://ift.tt/XavkDWU https://ift.tt/JjRclhk Lyrics: Fry plantain pon Sunday morning Fry plantain pon Sunday morning Head start spin when time me walk in Fry plantain pon Sunday morning Fry plantain pon Sunday morning Head start spin when time me walk in Well bright and ting this Sunday morning A plate a fry plantain, that’s what we start wid Tea pon the side, we sip that real slow Mint leaves smell nice, we pick what we grow, yeah Mountainsides Birds fly by Light blue skies Yuh deep red eyes This my kinda vibe Nah no neighbor, no Riddim a flow so we n’affi even bounce it low, no And it’s my favorite thing Linking up with you pon a Satday evening, yeah, yeah You know I’m loving the vibe You wanna keep me smiling Gotta wake up to my ... Fry plantain pon Sunday morning Fry plantain pon Sunday morning Head start spin when time she walk in Fry plantain pon Sunday morning Fry plantain pon Sunday morning Head start spin when time me walk in Yeh! Bad Mon! Ah, you know I love you like cooked food You fuckin’ wit a good dude If you ridin’ with me baby ain't no way you could lose Welcome to the winning team You could tell me anyting And everyting will be alright You could stay with me tonight Girl if that's what you would like It take a real woman make a home feel warm inside Promise I won’t bite unless you got a sex appetite The thought of you keep my mouth watering, can’t even lie Got me fiending for a slice of that apple pie You the apple in my eye Want to drop my Johnny appleseed in you and grow a apple tree So we can live happily You like soul food to me These other girls is Applebee’s That home cooked meal Traditional feel (yeah) ‘Cause I believe what we eat got the power to heal or to kill (facts) The energy is real and I don't take this shit for granted (never) Take my hand and let’s enjoy the fruits of seeds we planted Fry Plantain pon Sunday morning Head start spin soon as me walk in Soft brown skin girl, tell me where you been Me cyaa stop fi grin, in your love mi drowning Fry plantain pon Sunday morning Fry plantain pon Sunday morning Watch you head start spin when time me walk in Fry plantain pon Sunday morning Fry plantain pon Sunday mor- Aye, yuh head start spin when time me walk in Me wah you gimmie dat Fry plantain And breadfruit Gimmie mi ackee too, you know how I do Yeh me like yuh vibe when you whippin’ it up Inna me kitchen, you tuff Green juice drip in a cup Likkle skellion, onion sautéed You know you deh pon the mission all day Sharp blade slice right through No, you nah play Sip likkle Chardonnay, yes a dat me wah babe Yeah Aye gimmie me fry Fry Plantain Every morning Yeah yeah, yuh done know how it go ennuh baby Likkle breakfast inna the morning Really really like see you inna me kitchen, ennuh Yeah, Fry up some fry plantain Likkle ackee Likkle breadfruit And we d’even have to do it inna di kitchen alone, ennuh We can go a di river side Bush pot style Oh gosh! #FryPlantain #LilaIke #JoeyBadass #MusicVideo via YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NFv1EPx7xfU

[wingboundwarrior]

@loyaldeserter

A wyvern. A huge, scaled creature, many times the size of her pegasus, green-hued, large reptile eyes, fangs and claws and ready to pounce and sink forward.

She’s seen wyverns before, of course. But she’s also seen this specific wyvern before. She’d been in the sky, over a mountain, when a man on a wyvern joined her side. She’d turned to attack, but Mark’s frantic waving had caught her attention. “He’s just joined up with us!” she’d signed over. Fiora had stayed her weapon at that point, fighting alongside unfamiliar ally. But now...

Now, this wyvern was trying to get a rise out of Huxley.

Even Huxley, the stalwart and calm, was nickering uncomfortably at the way the wyvern was interacting with him. And with those claws, even a swipe made in play could be fatal. Fiora was running to her steed’s side in moments, making a faint clicking sound in the back of her throat. Hearing, Huxley obediently backed up, giving just enough room for Fiora to interject herself between the wyvern and him.

“Easy, now,” she tried to soothe. In truth, she didn’t know wyverns well enough to know if he was irritated or excited... “You have to settle down.” That was delivered in her best serious, warning mom tone, which — having raised two little sisters and tamed a pegasus — was rather pretty good.

One-Eyed One-Horned Flying Green People Eater 🐉

[tricotea]

okay so a large part of me starting this blog is that i am v inspired to share my work and plans the same way a lot of knitting youtubers and knitting podcasters do so here is my humble attempt of doing it in textpost format.... this will probs be a long post so under the cut we go !

first off i wanna start off with my fall moodboard (this idea is heavily inspired by emily from high fiber knits on yt much love to her) that i just made on canva lol

i think if i were to give this one a name it would be medieval scholar autumn lol. medieval not in the riches and jewels and such way but in the cobblestones and horse drawn carriages and those white and cream buildings with dark brown wood beams all across them if you know what i mean. it's crisp weather and chilly nights and county fairs and clear blue skies and just a very vibrant autumn. the more scholarly side of it to me is hot milk tea and browns and creams and not necessarily dark academia (bc i think that has become too oversaturated and now everything qualifies as some sort of academia esque thing and i've decided that FOR ME its cringe and i dont care.) but like books and reading and stufying and studying groups because well i neeed to romanticize school because i have to do it now. now that i am taking a class and also working i really need to keep the motivation up and like. this will help bc i love pretty pictures. another thing i was heavily inspired by was this package of milk tea flavored kitkats that had a nice red and green tartan pattern on it now i don't like red and green together it always reads christmas to me but the pattern combined with the tea really spoke to me. tbh i don't know how often i would really go for this much orange i had a very specific vision in mind when making this moodboard but i feel like the aesthetic isn't fully captured, and that's okay ! i'm trying to learn and really internalize that moments are not things to have and own, and certain feelings and blips of time and that perfect slant of light, or scent of something sweet on a cool breeze, or sky just the right shade, cannot and should not be kept forever. they are there to exist and be experienced, and if they are forgotten later that's okay. it doesn't have to be owned to have mattered. all this to say that maybe the vibes aren't exactly right and i won't wear all of these on the perfect day for the perfect vibe because that doesn't exist outside of pinterest lol. on we move.

before the patterns, a disclaimer: i will not make all of these patterns, i know this. i might not even make or finish any of these patterns lmao i have work and school and while that doesn't take up all of my time, i am still a very beginner knitter (still haven't finished my first garment lol) and do not have the skills or the money or the time to invest in all of these patterns no matter how much i want to. i have other hobbies too ! and that's fine ! honestly a lot of the reason i am making this post is because i 1 love explaining my thought processes 2 i love planning stuff and 3 mmmm categorization. big fan of ravelry bundles its my jam. honestly im not even 100% tied to the idea that aesthetics and trends and seasons (in the fashion and style sense, not the natural phenomenon) are even a good thing or something that aligns with my morals and values. i just like pretty pictures and matching things around and stuff.

okay pattern 1 and the most likely one i am to cast on is the tonight top by lily kate france! i would use malabrigo sock in the colorway ivy, as i got this yarn as a gift from my friend when she was in paris <3 not much to say about this pattern in regards to what i would do with it, i just think it would be a nice way to learn some new skills and show off the beautiful green earthy yarn. and even tho it's not bright orange lol.

pattern 2 and now we're going in no particular order is the winter's pullover by ozetta. again really nothing special about this one but i do think a hand knit cozy sweater is a goal of mine just as a knitter and this one fits the bill! can never go wrong with a thick cozy sweater in fall

pattern 3 is the honeycomb cardigan by sedna yang which again, cozy cabled cardigan can't go wrong with that. do i think i will be knitting this any time soon? absolutely not. but i do think it fits the vibe very well even tho i will not be able to purchase yarn for it lol that is too expensive for me rn

pattern 4 is the romy sweater by sandnes design and tbh i'm not sold on this one. mostly picked it for the colorwork being reminiscent of the afformentioned medieval buildings with the dark wooden beams across the outside but. well i'm not sold. it does fit in as a cozy oversized sweater but idk if it's different enough from the others to really get me to wanna make it.

pattern 5 is the cadogan sweater by lily kate france and omg i do really love this design. like overall i just feel like it fits in with the vibe really well and is still modern and fun and new and feels like something i would by at a retail store so . !

pattern 6 is these tartan mitts by carolyn kern, although i wouldn't knit the mitts themselves, just use the tartan pattern and transfer them onto some different patterns, namely : the sirius skirt by charissa (which originally has a houndstooth pattern that also fits in but i have a vision in mind) as well as a sort of cape/capelet pattern as a little matching set thing. i have 2 patterns in mind for this, the butterfly cape by sj kim and the beauxbatons academy of magic capelet by dana williams-johnson. on the butterfly cape first, i love the sleeves and how they look in the photos on ravelry, but all of them include a belt and i really don't have any belts and am not a belt wearer so i'm not sure how this would really fit into my wardrobe and how often i would wear it. it looks beautiful but i'm not sure how much i would reach for it.... it also seems like the sleeves are connected to the lower body, giving it that butterfly wing shape, but that would limit movement and well. one of my goals in life and in my style is to never wear pieces that limit movement and make me more aware of how i can and can't move my body and draw my attention to how i'm moving around in life so like. there is that. now, the beauxbatons capelet is more of what i'm looking for and it looks easier to slap a pattern on there and not have too much trouble... however it is from the official harry potter knitting book which i do not support in any way shape or form. i have absolutely no qualms about pirating the book itself and taking the pattern from there, but the idea that it's connected to jkr puts me off of it a little bit. either way both of them look like they make beautiful finished objects, i just have to decide which one to make lol (if i make any at all. out of this tartan pattern mini collection i would probs make the skirt first and go from there)

pattern 10 is the agave by tricot design mcl and what drew me to this was the drawstring detail at the front. i don't think i would necessarly knit the full garment but maybe adding the detail to something like the milly skirt by sandnes garn at the bottom hem as like a little nod to the more medieval side of my plans and aesthetic.

okay finally pattern 12 is the penny gloves by petiteknit. a classic. cute. practical as gloves for when my steering wheel in my car gets cold. a fun small fall accessory when i'm not really an accessories gal.

and that's all ! in no way am i knitting all of these, this is an aspirational thing that also is mostly for my planning brain. honestly i think i might like planning out which garments to knit more than actually knitting them. either way happy knitting !

[fantasy-hub]

Ramon and the Nine Divines

Character meme based off the divine pantheon from the Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. Bold what definitely applies to your character, italicize what could apply under certain conditions

1.) AKATOSH The pattern of a dragon’s scales / Bronze statues / The concept of infinity / Fatherhood, biological or not / Hard-earned & long-lived wisdom / A strict mentor but a kind guide / The terrifying passage of time / Sundials / Heroic sacrifice / Martyrdom, wanted or not / A crone that knows all / Older than the bones of the earth / Victory that tastes like ash / Blood-red rubies / The reason being "because fate wills it so" / Right versus wrong / Divine justice / Almost godlike / A dragon’s roar that shakes the land / An array of blazing comets / The violet-red sky at dusk / A fire that never goes out 

2.) ARKAY A well-sealed tomb / A stone-built mausoleum / The stillness of graveyards / Moss growing over headstones / Graves so old that the writing is illegible / The fragility of mortals / A murder of crows / Pitch-black skies with no stars / A sudden chill / Superstitions / Visions of the dead / Funeral rites / Burning a body to release the soul / Digging up dirt with your bare hands / The call of a raven / A new moon / A memento mori / Black butterflies / Soulless eyes / Taking one's last breath

3.) DIBELLA Embracing femininity / Comfortable in the nude / Soft skin / Rays of sunshine through the clouds / Hazy sunsets / Hypnotic gaze / Accepting of all / No judgment / In love with love / Painting with a lover / Bathing in rivers / Blooming gardens / The afterglow of sex / Sensuality / Lover of fine arts / Swans & doves / Long hair over the collarbones & shoulders / Kisses over bare thighs / Luminous pearls / Slices of oranges, fed by hand / Golden mirrors

4.) JULIANOS Scholarly debates / Curiosity / Willingness to learn / Vast libraries of untapped knowledge / Leather book-covers / Late night studying / Mountains of scrolls / Games of logic / Runes / A weathered journal /Pressed flowers / Watercolor paints / Ink-stained palms / Glasses slipping over the nose / A teacher that truly teaches / Remembering history so it shall not be repeated / Enjoying puzzles & riddles

5.) KYNARETH A silver mare / Wispy clouds over a mountaintop / The scent before it rains / Soft caresses of grass against uncovered skin / The vast blueness of the sky at midday / Pale blue roses / Darkening clouds as a storm rolls in / The pitter-patter of gentle rain / The thundering of a heavy downpour / Four-leaf clovers / Healthy green fields / The whistle of the wind against your ear / Pure white butterflies / A mother bear with her cubs / Nymphs that live near creeks and rivers / Nature spirits who help those who respect the world and hinder those who don't / Helping others even at great cost / Secretive meetings / A beautiful melody / A soft-toned voice / Not a mother, but a mother enough

6.) MARA Fields of golden wheat / A gentle lamb sleeping amongst its siblings / Unconditional love / True compassion / The miracle of birth / A newborn’s first cries / A mother’s all-encompassing love / Remaining tender despite cruelty / The sweetness of honey / A soothing lullaby / Weeping willow trees / Looking to the skies for consolation / Sharing bread / Forehead kisses / A sense of safety / Warm palms / The arrival of dawn / Summer evenings / Ducklings following their mother / Sweet reunions / Allowing yourself to be vulnerable with another / Watching children grow / Protecting the innocence of the youth / Marrying for love, not for duty or honor.

7.) STENDARR Choosing to be merciful / Healing balms / Blessed waters / Caring for the ill, elderly, or the young / Clasped hands in prayer / Warm, golden light / Cleansing / Bloodied palms / Unable to wash the guilt / A lifted curse / A fever breaking / A cool cloth against the forehead / Stopping the bleeding with your hands but it won’t stop / One life lost is one life too many / Remaining brave against all odds / Telling the wounded that they will live because you will do everything in your power to make it so / Hatred of war because of who it truly affects

8.) ZENITHAR A hefty bag of coins / A busy marketplace / Spices from far-away lands  / The calls of sea-birds / The scent of saltwater carried through the breeze / A storm over the sea / Turbulent waters / Dark depths / Worn maps / A good deal / Walking along the waves / The sail of a ship / Collecting seashells / New cultures / Where the sea and sky meet / Watching the sun disappear below the horizon / Finding the north star for guidance

9.) TALOS A guttural scream that comes from the soul / A sense of impending doom / Cold betrayal / Undying loyalty / A greatsword that takes both hands to wield / The sound of a blade being drawn / Rough leather / Dark, earthy colors / War cries / Shining steel armor / Scars that never fade / Pyrrhic victory / Season of war / Broad shoulders / A broken crown / Brotherhood / The fight for freedom never ends / Secret worship / Snow-capped mountains as far as the eye can see / Freezing waters / Having to choose between being right or being happy

Tagged by: @maidmyth, technically Tagging: Anyone who wants to!

[cerebraldischarge]

Plato's dead hand and the -isms of our day

The Greeks wrote stuff on wax tablets. I wonder if there were marital misunderstandings due to the malleable material being left out in the summer glare. Despite all the lies we have heard in the past twenty years or so, hot summers have existed back then. They rocked the cradle of our civilization, sometimes gently, sometimes not so gently.

It’s also a myth that the Greeks could not perceive blue. Their skies were not burgundy or gray, they saw the same wavelengths we do. Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=omPGq_cu58Y

Paradox, perhaps, but the human tendency to divide (both things and people) into categories is one of the most universal. Greeks and Barbarians, Hebrew and Goyim - that’s the most primal distinction: Our Kind and Everyone Else. Then, as our vocabularies, libraries, and some people’s access to too much free time grew, more categories were established. Incidentally, this is akin to the process of generating more and more color words. At first, cultures differentiate between light and dark; then red enters the picture; then the dividing lines between blue, green, yellow, brown, pink, and so on are drawn - all the while looking at the exact same visible spectrum, except for a few unfortunate males (or perhaps fortunate, as they are the ones who see through man-made camouflage the most - which goes to show that “survival of the fittest” depends to the utmost extent on the environment into which the fitting occurs).

Perhaps we are at the beginning of such a proliferation of definitions. The basic distinction starts with Healthy (people you agree with; the majority breed) and Unhealthy (people who are different - perhaps with more or less limited perceptions than average, perhaps with skills adapted for different environments, perhaps a diminished or elevated capacity for empathy, or any other “weirdness” that is externally perceivable). Then the latter category starts being divided along the gradient of how useful they are to the Healthy ruling class, or how well they blend in, or how exotic but harmless they seem, or how compliant they are in their own exploitation. (Excuse me for using somewhat left-bent language here, but when it comes to people who have been stripped of their agency through chemical means, often from childhood and not merely learned to victimize themselves for temporary gain, the word “exploitation” seems very much appropriate to me.) There is now a whole damn book detailing the minutiae and shades of being Unhealthy (which, obviously, doesn’t mean they are actually unhealthy, just as non-Greeks or non-Jews aren’t inherently inferior either - it’s just a cultural framework).

Following the proliferation of definitions, the recognition of the spectrum nature of the categorized phenomena occurs, as historically observed: we still talk about distinct hues to children, but everyone implicitly knows that electromagnetic radiation is a spectrum, and these “colors”, as well as a bunch of other things (radio waves, gamma rays, and so on) differ only in their wavelength, but fundamentally are the same thing. With races, it’s a bit more complicated because they are more culturally than biologically constructed (and whoever tries to argue with this fact only does so because he is trying to prove the superiority of his own group, which is a laughable idea - if you really are superior, prove it via your own actions, don’t piggyback on the deeds of your ancestors). With some of the categories of neurodivergence, this gradient-spectrum nature is becoming recognized (the autism spectrum comes to mind), but the overarching notion (that even ChatGPT espouses, referring to it as the “current consensus in the field”, by the way) still seems to be that there is a “standard”, there is a “normal”, a “superior race” to which everyone else should conform either through changing one’s mindset with the help of a trusted authority figure (therapist - indoctrinator), or through chemical alteration (mandatory addiction), or a combination of both methods. Within the spectrum of human sexuality, similar trends can be observed - a gradual recognition of a spectrum-like nature combined with ironclad resistance from certain groups who feel threatened as their hegemony gradually erodes or loses meaning.

We are born Platonists. The human mind, at its most unrefined, likes to think in distinct, concrete categories. Nouns are the first thing every young human learns. This is a cow, that is a cat. This is a circle, that is a triangle. This is big, that is small. We grow out of it to some extent - “hot” and “cold” are replaced with a numerical scale, the color wheel becomes familiar, and so on. But there is something primordially comforting in things like man/woman, sane/insane, rich/poor, positive/negative. (Incidentally, I have a notoriously hard time categorizing emotions as either positive or negative, because when I show someone an erotic piece I wrote, which to me is full of good vibes and pleasant feelings, I often get the response that it’s “dark” or “depressing” - and when I express raw pain, people sometimes think I’m joking or trolling; and these incongruities have been a part of my life since the beginning. I used to be frustrated by this - now I just try to understand it.)

Some people get so damn close to realizing that the people they were told to categorize as Unhealthy (thus, not fully human, at least until “recovery” is completed, if that’s deemed to be possible) are actually people too. They parrot the fact that we all experience states labeled Unhealthy throughout life. But somehow the dots don’t get connected. Bodily autonomy doesn’t get recognized. All I wanna know is: why?

[delicatelysuperbasement]

AMIZADE Temporal Sábado, 24/10/2016 Que a cada amanhecer do seu dia nasça contigo uma flor. - [ ] Que cada sorriso teu, seja as pétalas que torna esta flor mais completa. Que cada pensamento positivo, seja o caule... que a sustenta. Que cada passo para a vitória, seja a terra que alimenta. Que cada gesto teu, seja o sol que fornece energia, e que o brilho dos teus olhos, seja a beleza e a simplicidade desta flor, que me embriaga com o seu perfume e me encanta com seu carisma. Esta flor que desabrocha em seus pensamentos e me transforma em você... Uma flor que vai permanecer intacta às mais diferentes épocas, aos mais inesperados destinos, uma flor que nunca vou permitir morrer. Sabe porque? Porque ela é linda como você e porque todos a chamam de AMIZADE. ## Convido-o ouvir: com legenda em português e letra da música em Inglês. Creio num Mundo em que vivemos necessário olharmos mais a nossa volta a "ARTE" música tem seu valor. Louis Armstrong - What a Wonderful World - legendado https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D67lR7Qy_wk * Letra Português Que Mundo Maravilhoso Eu vejo as árvores verdes, rosas vermelhas também Eu as vejo florescer para mim e você E eu penso, que mundo maravilhoso Eu vejo os céus tão azuis e as nuvens tão brancas O brilho abençoado do dia, e a escuridão sagrada da noite E eu penso comigo, que mundo maravilhoso As cores do arco-íris, tão bonitas no céu Estão também nos rostos das pessoas Vejo amigos apertando as mãos, dizendo: Como vai você? quando realmente eles estão dizendo: Eu te amo! Eu ouço bebês chorando, eu os vejo crescer Eles vão aprender muito mais que eu jamais vou saber E eu penso comigo, que mundo maravilhoso Sim, eu penso comigo, que mundo maravilhoso Oh Sim! * Letra Inglês "Some of you young folks been saying to me " Hey Pops, what you mean 'What a wonderful world'? How about all them wars all over the place? You call them wonderful? And how about hunger and pollution? That ain't so wonderful either." Well how about listening to old Pops for a minute. Seems to me, it aint the world that's so bad but what we're doin' to it. And all I'm saying is see what a wonderful world It would be if only we'd give it a chance. Love baby, love. That's the secret, yeah. If lots more of us loved each other we'd solve lots more problems. And then this world would be gasser. That's wha' ol' Pops keeps saying." I see trees of green, red roses too I see them bloom, for me and you And I think to myself What a wonderful world I see skies of blue, and clouds of white The bright blessed day, dark sacred night And I think to myself What a wonderful world The colors of the rainbow, so pretty in the sky Are also on the faces, of people going by I see friends shaking hands, sayin', "How do you do?" They're really sayin', "I love you" I hear babies cryin', I watch them grow They'll learn much more, than I'll ever know And I think to myself What a wonderful world Yes, I think to myself What a wonderful world Oh yeah! https://www.letras.mus.br/lou.../2211/traducao.html%EF%BB%BF 

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