#happy pride month the continent

[hungerofhadarr]

… Me and my Babe Relax

And

Catch the Manic Rhapsody …

#The Witcher #dandelion #dandelion the bard #geralt of rivia #whatt the fuck is the ship name again #google told me to go fuck myself #Geralt/Dandelion #Thank god I can extract lineart and make it fun colours . From traditional art to traditional ( with an extra kick ) #geraskier #fuck it i’ ll use this one #happy pride month the continent #hozier lyric for the description woe take it

[lazyalani]

| Itoshi Rin × [F!Reader]

| Silence

| angst, hurt no comfort, no happy ending, rin does not know how to show his feelings, rin is in too deep for sae's acknowledgement, reader just wants him to be happy, rin is scared to try, reader understands where he's coming from but is also tired, swearing, rin is so angsty type

| Summary: Rin's silence always is the obvious answer.

| Blue Lock Masterlist

| Main Masterlist

Every arguement,

The sound of rushing footsteps and heavy pants collides with the sound of the continous banging of soccer balls on the ground.

You breathe heavily when you reach the park, putting your hands on your knees for support. It isn't that bad, you think. It helps with the raging cold of the night, you pant on your scarf. You take one last deep breathe and stood up straight, staring at the boy kicking the balls without a break and running around.

Rin, however, doesn't even notice you staring at him, nor did he notice someone even came. Too focused, concentrated on the balls, or his thoughts?

You match the frown in his face, does he not see you or is he ignoring you? You rolled your eyes, this is the first time you get see each other in months because of that stupid Blue shit or something and he doesn't even bother to go to your house and greet you? What a brat.

"Rin...." You call out and he visibly snaps out of his thoughts, eyes widening and the balls misses the goal.

He takes deep breaths, slowly standing up straight and going over to a bench to drink water.

"[Name], what are you doing here?" He barely acknowledges, not even looking at you and wiping his face.

every word we can't take back,

You try to calm down your temper, not wanting your first reunion in months to be a bickering contest or whatever the lukewarm shits he says.

"Can I not greet a friend after months of not seeing him?" You tilt your head, raising an eyebrow and sitting cross legged, leaning on one arm across the bench he was sitting on.

He stays silent, fueling you even more.

You sighed heavily. "Rin, what have you been doing all this time?"

"Training."

"Why haven't you contacted me?"

"Phones weren't allowed inside---"

'Cause with the all that has happened

"But they are once a player reaches a certain amount of goals and requests it." You wonder if he's surprised you know, if he is, he certainly has amazing control of his expressions, because not even a move of a brow was shown, and he stays silent once more.

You closed your eyes and leaned your head back to the fence. "Your mom told me you got your phone back, yet I never even got a reply, not even until now. What's the matter, Rin?"

"I just forgot."

"The same damned excuse over and over again." You sneer and he finally shows an emotion, frustration.

"I was busy, I am busy."

"Would it make you less of a better player to reply even just a single word?"

Before you knew it, it had turn into a shouting competition, just as it always has.

I think that we both know the way that this story ends

Wait, it hasn't always been like this, hasn't it? How had those small and petty arguments led to this? Before, it was always you and him bickering over the single chocolate Sae has left and over the other half of the chocolate twin popsicle Sae bought. Before, it was always resolved with just Sae buying another. Before, it was just you and him trying to train you at soccer. Before, it was just you and him sleeping at Sae's bed and making him sleep on Rin's room. Before, it was just you and him racing to the park. Before, it was just you and him smiling and laughing about the most random things. Before, it was just you and him secretly making fun of the kids who slip and fall and Sae either berates you or joins you. Before, it was just you, him, and Sae, having the best times of your lives.

Now, it's just you and him shouting. Now, it's just you and him fighting for your prides. Now, it's just you and him barely even talking. Now, it's just you and him as less than friends. Now, there's no more Sae.

"Why can't you take a hint and see that I don't care?!"

Now, it's just you.

Then only for a minute,

Oh, where had the sweet boy gone?

His words stabbed you right on the heart. Bullseye. Bullshit.

You didn't know what to say, or what to do. You wanted to punch him, slap him, kick him, scream at him. But what would you even say? What can you even say? What good would that even do? Oh, he's already won this competition alright.

Oh, where had all his promises gone?

All those promises of never leaving each other. Never leaving like Sae did. Never letting emotions win. Never letting a day pass without making up. Never letting things go too far. Going to ask you to be his girlfriend someday. Going on sappy dates and peaceful movie nights. Going to say I love you before the day ends. Keeping every promise made.

Where had it all gone?

You didn't know. All you knew was if you asked him, he would've said he didn't either, or he would've never answered, like he always did. Oh, right, it wasn't always like that, huh?

Oh, where had that caring boy go?

Into the shadow of his brother, you would say if asked. Drowned in the hurtful words thrown at him by the same brother he loved with his everything. Mourned for the acknowledgement and attention of the same brother who promised to become the best striker in the world with. The same brother who shattered their dream.

In that moment, Rin knew it was over. But why is it that he wanted to swallow everything back?

I want to change my mind,

He thinks he should take everything back, but the lump on his throat and his ego says otherwise.

Oh, where have your promises gone, little boy?

Inside my brother's shadow, he'd answer if asked. He knew he was in too deep into his 'revenge', but he can't help it. This is how he's always been. One goal, one direction, straight ahead, going as far as he can, and never looking back.

Oh, where have your promises gone, young man?

Inside the trapping walls of the soccer ball, he'd answer if asked. Before, it was you and him trying to teach you soccer. Now, it was you and him fighting because of soccer.

Now, he just left you hanging.

'Cause this just don't feel right to me

Oh, sweet boy, where have you gone?

Into the depths of my ego, he'd answer if asked. In too deep, too far gone to even come back. Not willing to sacrifice the things he worked so hard for. Not willing to show how much you really meant to him. Not willing to be vulnerable. Not willing to be weak. Not willing to be looked down on by his brother. Not willing to give in to anyone.

Not even to you.

Oh, sweet girl, what are you willing to do?

Everything, she'd say if asked. But I've already done everything. I've tried everything, why won't he notice it? I did everything for him. I tried everything for him.

You scoff and laugh bitterly, a tear cascading through your cheek, finally allowing yourself to break. "All these years, I have done everything just to pull you up. I have done everything to not let you kill yourself for your pathetic little brother complex. I have done everything not to let you die from exhaustion. All these years, I have done nothing but to love you, just like we used to to each other." You say, letting everything out.

I wanna raise your spirits,

"Yet you have done everything to push me away. To cast me aside when you decided to go after your brother. You decided to chase after the same person who casted you away like you did to me instead od staying with me, the same person who fucking stayed with you throughout everything. I was there when he wasn't. I was there when he left. But you still wanted to chase after him after everything. I always wondered why but I figured I just wasn't enough." You brushed your fingers through your hair, tears continously falling down your face, but you didn't bother to wipe them. You wanted him to see the damage he dealt without a care in the world.

He stayed silent, as he always has, ever since that day. And for the first time in forever, you, who has always known how he felt like inside, didn't know about the burning feeling he feels on his eyes. The burning sensation he feels as his eyes and nose reddens, you think it's because of the cold. Because you think he doesn't even have enough care to feel your pain.

"I changed myself to be the desperate girl who just wanted just for you to notice me again. All these times, I supported you and encouraged you even when your parents wanted you to stop soccer because of what happened. I patched you up when you got bruised and injured. I brought and gave you your pens, papers, notebooks, books because you kept forgetting them for prioritizing your cleats and soccer ball. I brought them even when I knew I was gonna be late over and over again because I didn't want you to fail. Because I knew failing would get you out of the soccer club you loved so much. I was there when you needed a shoulder to cry on. I was there when you needed to rant. I was there even when I knew I was only going to be casted aside again and again. And you know why? Do you even have a single fucking idea why?!" You exclaimed, standing up, voice getting a little bit louder every sentence.

He leans his back and head on the fence, closing his eyes shut, a tear finally falling down. But he doesn't care to wipe it either, too tired to care.

You see it, but you didn't care, that was nothing compared to what you were feeling all these years.

"All these years, all these times, I just wanted to see you smile again." Your voice cracked as you stared him, eyes full of intense emotions.

I want to see you smile, but

He opens his eyes and lets himself get lost in yours. Maybe, just maybe this time, he could let himself get lost in you. Maybe, he could be strong enough to ignore his pride and ego.

know that means I'll have to leave

Staring in your eyes now, he feels even more drained. How ignorant could he have been to not notice how tired you were? Or maybe you just hid it so well. You've masked your true feelings so well that he couldn't notice. Or maybe he just didn't care enough to try and see through it.

And you finally let it all loose, now that you finally let it be seen, all he can see is a shell of the sweet girl he loved. He wonders if this was how she felt all this time.

Oh, young man, why did it only sink in to you now?

Lately, I've been, I've been thinking,

A small part of you, a deep part of you, and a special part of his inside of you hopes he would say something. That he would try and save your falling relationship, whatever it is. Just something.

And a big part of him, the deepest part of him, a special part of you inside him hopes that he could take everything back. That he could restart. For the first time, he wishes life outside soccer has a restart too. A kick off. Then he'll let you take the ball.

He'll let you set the curve and control the game, his game. And then let you get far away first so that his brother's shadow will never catch up when you score a goal you'd take control and never let him have the ball that made him this way.

So that when you make a goal, he'll see that smile that made his little heart fall again. and not the face full of tears infront of him right now

I want you to be happier, I want you to be happier

But he doesn't.

He doesn't say anything. He isn't strong enough afterall. Not strong enough to keep the ego inside him. Not strong enough to push the lump on his throat.

In this game, he doesn't let you take the ball. His ego doesn't let him. His ego leaps up and crushes your dreams, making its way to the goal, pushing past everything and everyone, never looking back.

For the first time in both of your lives, you walk away.

When the evening falls,

For the first time in your life, you were the first one to walk away.

"I should've turned my back on you ages ago."

He swears his heart breaks again over and over again when he saw the life in your eyes drain.

Oh, where has the sweet girl gone?

He blames himself. Ofcourse he does. Deep inside he has always blamed himself. Deep inside he has always seen how your shoulder drops and smile fade away when he reject another one of your hang out plans. When he tells you an excuse why he ditched you.

He wonders if all of this wouldn't have happened if he was just stronger. If he was just strong enough to take his brother's critism. If he wasn't so vulnerable.

He wants to blame it all on his brother. As he always has. The blame is always on Sae. He always blames everything on his brother. Because he couldn't accept him changing positions. Because he was too stubborn. Because he was so naive.

He wonders what could've happened if he decided to let go of his brother's shadow? Would he had have asked you to be his girlfriend by now? Would he had have given you that plushie you had wanted so much? Would he had have won you the pikachu plushie on the arcade? Would he have been watching a movie and cuddling with you right now?

And I'm left here with my thoughts,

His heart breaks over and over again again at the thought of you living a happy life without him. What a hypocrite, he thinks to himself. He pushes you away but doesn't want you to be happy without him.

The thought of you spending your life with another person, with another love that isn't him, brings a tub of boiling anger to his heart. He thinks he's an asshole, a fucking prick, a shitty douchebag, and he knows it. He doesn't want you to give up on him.

But then again, he's drained all your love for him, hasn't he?

And the image of you being with someone else

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock angst #lazyalani #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #rin x reader #blue lock x female reader #bluelock x you #itoshi rin x you #itoshi brothers

[flowerandblood]

The sweetest fruit (8)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Valyrian! • female ]

[ warnings: oral sex, sex content, smut, angst, dirty talk ]

[description: (Anon Request) Aemond is to meet his future wife from Essos, in whose veins runs the blood of Old Valyria. They’ve been engaged since they were kids, but he’s in no hurry to get married and he’s not happy about her arrival. His future wife, however, turns out to be someone completely different than he expected. Smut, angst and a lot of sexual tension.]

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

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After an unpleasant incident between Aegon and Lady Vhassar, the king and queen decided that he would be sent to Sept for a few months, to be completely isolated among the monks, without alcohol or women, to think things over. The prince had insisted he wouldn't go anywhere, but Ser Criston and the other guardsmen gave him no choice.

Lady Vhassar and her husband watched with satisfaction from above as the prince left the keep through the courtyard under escort. The bruise on Lady Vhassar's cheek was almost invisible now, in a slightly yellowish color.

However, she wore it with pride, as a proof of her fidelity and devotion to her husband. From that event, she began to be treated with more respect and esteem, removing from her the patch of an ordinary lady-concubine from Essos.

Aemond looked at her intently. Even though she didn't bring up the subject, he couldn't help feeling guilty.

From the moment she confessed to him that she reciprocated his feelings, their passion in bed, though intense and brutal at times, was also filled with tenderness and care that he had not known before. He saw that he began to take great pleasure in slowly making love to her, as their bodies were pressed together in a strong embrace.

It turned out that when they talked to each other and exchanged opinions, they were a surprisingly calm and harmonious married couple. His wife knew exactly his daily schedule and adjusted her activities, so that afternoons and evenings could be spent together.

He noticed that she no longer looked at other men and sought their attention. At the sight of him, when they encountered each other in the corridor, she smiled sweetly and happily, running lightly towards him. He didn't tell her, but she touched him with her devotion and the warmth he felt from her.

From the moment he took off his eyepatch in front of her, when they were alone, she had been taking it off herself. She said she loved seeing her husband's face and was happy to be the only one to see him as he is. His scar and missing eye didn't deter her.

She helped apply ointments when the pain became unbearable again. She didn't even flinch as he took the sapphire stone out of his eye socket to let his skin rest. It didn't impress her at all.

She was always the one who surprised him with new ideas for spending time, including in bed. This time, however, he had a plan. He had obtained permission, albeit reluctantly, from his mother and was finally able to share it with her. He pursed his lips as he gathered up the courage to tell her.

"I want to get to know your homeland." He said finally. She looked at him, surprised, not fully understanding what he was talking about.

"Do you want me to recommend a book to you?" She asked with a smile, thinking he was talking about the customs and traditions of her continent. Aemond looked at her intensely.

"No. I want to fly with you on Vhagar to Volantis." He spoke seriously and calmly. His wife stared at him in disbelief, for a moment obviously thinking that he was joking. Seeing that his expression hadn't changed, she covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes shining with happiness.

"Really?" She asked quietly, barely holding back the excitement that was building in her body. A smirk appeared on his face at her question.

"Yes. These are the lands of our common ancestors, full of places I'd like to see." He said with satisfaction. "I've already arranged everything with my parents."

Lady Vhassar threw herself into his arms, unable to contain the euphoria that flooded her muscles. He ran his hand through her soft, flower-scented hair and kissed her forehead. His wife cupped his cheeks in her hands, forcing him to look at her. Her eyes sparkled in the sun.

"When will we fly?" She asked quietly.

"Tomorrow morning."

***

Lady Vhassar could not sleep at night from excitement. She kept squirming in her husband's arms, tossing and turning, causing him to grunt in displeasure. He pulled her tightly against him, her bare back pressed against his chest. He wrapped her in an iron embrace in his arms, burying his face in her hair.

"Stop fidgeting, woman, and let me sleep if I have to command the dragon tomorrow for so many hours of travel." He said impatiently. She pressed her lips together humbly, snuggling into his arms, pressing her breasts against them.

"I'm sorry." She whispered softly. "I'll try."

She felt her husband's manhood throbbing hard against her buttocks. She smiled to herself but didn't move, not wanting to annoy him. She heard him only sigh heavily, frustrated. His hand cupped her breast and began to massage it, his nose touching her neck. A pleasant shiver ran through her.

"You woke me up." He grunted low, his hand sliding down to her thigh.

He took her from behind, just like the first time they did it together. Only when he came inside her, panting heavily, all hot and sweating, did he fall asleep in a peaceful, deep sleep.

He woke up first, before the sun came up. He didn't have the strength to open his eye. The smell and warmth of his wife cuddled up to him, intertwined with his body, made all he dreamed about was to sleep on.

He knew, however, that they had a long and hard journey ahead of them. He propped himself up on one elbow, sleepy, and kissed her lingeringly on the cheek. She hummed low, dissatisfied that he had changed such a pleasant position.

"Wake up, sweet wife. We must set off." He said, running his hand over her back and hips. She moaned softly, pressing her face against his body, her eyes still closed.

He sighed heavily, took her in his arms, and lifted her. She sobbed as he carried her, wrapping her legs tightly around him. He sat her down on the table in front of him, brushing unruly strands of her hair out of her face.

"Wear what we've been talking about. The journey will be faster than the ship, but inconvenient. Do you remember everything I told you?" He asked, and she rubbed her eyes sleepily. She nodded, resting her forehead against his shoulder, unable to make any effort.

"What are you going to do when we approach Vhagar?" He asked, wanting to make sure she remembered everything.

“Wait until she accepts my scent. Don't speak Valyrian to her to not confuse her. Don't make any sudden movements." She mumbled, nestled into him with her eyes closed, partially extending her doze.

He kissed her bare shoulder with a sound of contentment.

"Very well. Get dressed."

***

Aemond had sent their bags to Volantis a few days earlier, informing his wife's parents of their future arrival. The servants had prepared provisions for them in advance, and they set off on horseback to where Vhagar was. Ser Criston accompanied them to see that everything went according to plan.

As they arrived, Lady Vhassar could see a cliff and a great rise beyond the forest. She followed her husband, saying nothing, looking up at the sky to see if Vhagar might appear above them. Aemond had told her not to talk to him, so she didn't ask him anything. He stopped and looked at her meaningfully, then turned his gaze to the hill.

Only now did she realize that it wasn't a hill, but a great, coiled, sleeping dragon, its body rising and falling. Even in her imagination she had not thought that Vhagar was so big. She swallowed hard, her eyes filled with shock and excitement. She smiled widely at her husband, and he, seeing her reaction, kissed her head.

"Dohaeragon, Vhagar! (Serve me, Vhagar!)” He shouted loudly at her as he approached her alone, obviously wanting to wake her up. Lady Vhassar thought with a smile that he had a pleasant accent. Even though he could speak their native language, the thought of her speaking it fluently blocked and embarrassed him. They spoke only in the common language.

Lady Vhassar felt the ground quake beneath her feet, as the dragon slowly lifted her great head and turned to Aemond, looking at him expectantly.

Dragon inhaled loudly, smelling a new scent, her head bent towards her. She saw that her husband motioned for her to stand still and not move. Lady Vhassar, looking at her with horror and delight, thought she looked like the great lizards that she had often seen in Essos.

"Lykyri, Vhagar. Lykyri. (Easy, Vhagar. Easy.)” He said, putting his hand over her big mouth. The dragon leaned lower and blew hot air at her from her nostrils, which quickly turned into steam. Lady Vhassar coughed.

Vhagar put her head down in front of her after a moment, looking at her. She wanted to go over to her and touch her, but stopped herself, remembering her husband's remarks. Aemond extended his hand to her.

"Come." He said, his voice quivering with excitement. His wife came over to him, her legs trembling slightly. He led her to the long lianas that hung from the big seat at the top. She knew that she had to climb up there and sit down.

It wasn't an easy task, her arms weren't as well trained as his. He secured her from below, climbing up behind her, making sure she didn't fall.

She finally sat astride the saddle, exhaling loudly, looking around with a smile, obviously very pleased with herself. Aemond tied several ropes around her waist to make sure that she didn't fall. He surprised her with a sudden, greedy kiss, his tongue sliding between her lips, colliding with her own in a sticky, wet dance.

He couldn't contain the happiness and excitement he felt at the thought that his wife was riding a dragon with him. He pulled away from her, spun around in the seat, and commanded her to grip tightly around his waist. She humbly did as he asked, feeling how hard his and her heart was pounding.

"Soves, Vhagar! (Fly, Vhagar!)” He exclaimed, and the dragon rose sluggishly to her paws. Lady Vhassar pressed closer to her husband, feeling everything around them tremble.

Vhagar began to walk faster and faster and threw herself into the abyss, spreading her wings. Lady Vhassar squealed softly, feeling a weight and speed she had never known before.

She only calmed down when Vhagar rose high and spread her wings completely, her movements stable and repetitive. Aemond looked at his wife, saw that she was pale, her eyes wide.

"Everything's fine?" He shouted at her, because of the strong wind around them practically nothing could be heard. She nodded and smiled slightly.

Only now did she begin to enjoy the wonderful views that spread out below them. She thought, she might have given him paradise in bed, but he was the one who really took her to heaven. She clung to him tighter at the thought.

The journey was long and hard. They made several stops to eat, stretch and drink, but sitting in this seat for so many hours without being able to change position was very uncomfortable. All she wanted now was to lie down in her bed in Volantis.

She regained her energy and good mood as soon as she saw the walls and the great lantern of her city. She was touched, because in her heart when she left her home she thought she would never see him again.

Aemond had to land with Vhagar far enough away from built-up areas, on a large hill, so that the dragon would have enough space to herself and not pose a threat.

Her brother, Vhogar, rode out to greet them. He jumped off his horse and ran to her as soon as he saw her. They threw themselves into each other's arms, and Vhogar spun her several times. He lowered her and took her cheeks in his hands. He frowned as he saw the remnants of the bruises under her eye.

"Since iksis ziry? Bisa dyni encore iksis pyghagon ao? (What is it? This monster is beating you?)” He asked enraged, not knowing that Aemond understood every word he said. Lady Vhassar was about to reply quickly to correct him, but her husband was quicker.

"Nyke qringaomatan naejot mīsagon zirȳla hen ñuha lēkia. (I failed to protect her from my brother.)” He said low, looking away. Her brother looked at him in surprise, then laughed, shaking his head.

"Nyke geptot ñuha mandia isse go aōha mīsagon. Nyke geptot zirȳla konīr se ziry māzigon arlī pyghagon bē? (I left my sister under your protection. I left her there, and she comes back beaten up?)" He asked enraged, but she clamped her hand on his arm, looking pleadingly at him.

"Ziry gōntan daor gaomagon mirros naejot nyke. Ziry umbagon syt ñuha valzȳrys naejot henujagon nyke mērī isse se tistālion. (He did not do anything to me. He waited for my husband to leave me alone in the chamber.) She said quickly. She felt,that the atmosphere was tense and it all sounded very bad.

"Nyke jorrāelagon ñuha valzȳrys, lēkia. Ziry māstan kesīr lēda nyke, naejot mazverdagon nyke biare. (I love my husband, brother. He came here with me to make me happy.) She said calmly.

Her brother's face softened as she said the words. He looked at her husband, pursed his lips, and nodded, remembering that he was talking to the king's son after all.

"Forgive me, my prince. Saying goodbye to my sister was very painful for me. I was infuriated that someone had hurt her in my absence." He said, trying to put his feelings into words with a little more respect. Aemond looked at him blankly. He was boiling inside with rage, but he knew that he was right and he wasn't going to argue.

"I know, my Lord. I was as furious as you when I found out about it myself."

The three of them set off on horseback towards the city. Aemond immediately felt that it was much hotter around them than in Westeros. He had to take off his leather coat and jacket.

He was left in only a nightgown and trousers, and he still felt like he was about to melt. He no longer wondered why his wife could walk naked around her chambers in the summer. The heat must have been unbearable.

At their grand villa, her father greeted them, opening his arms wide to her. He also noticed a bruise on her cheek, but she lied that she slipped after taking a bath. Aemond and Vhogar looked away at her words, not wanting to broach the subject and spoil the evening.

Her father arranged a great feast for them. Aemond noticed, surprised and horrified, that some of the people were practically half-naked there. Everything was visible through the delicate, translucent materials. He didn't know where to look. His wife squeezed his hand, seeing his uncertainty and embarrassment.

"Don't pay attention to it. You'll get used to it soon." She said softly, and he nodded without speaking.

Although the couples moved before them in a dance far more sensual than that in Westeros, Lady Vhassar did not leave her husband's side at the table. She was asked to dance several times, but she replied that she had no strength for that after the journey.

He knew it was just the opposite - her buttocks must hurt immensely from sitting, and she'd be better off getting up and dancing. She just didn't want to leave him alone among complete strangers. He squeezed her hand under the table. She looked at him, suprised.

"I'm tired. Will you show me our chamber?" He asked, feigning indifference. They both knew that once his wife showed him their chamber, she would stay there with him. She nodded with a wide smile.

They said goodbye to her parents, informing them that they wanted to retire after a hard journey. They moved forward between the cool sand walls, so different from those in the Red Keep.

Lady Vhassar opened the door and they entered a spacious, huge room with a wonderful view of the city from the balcony.

Beautiful paintings of plants and flowers were painted on the walls. Her bed was covered with a large canopy, probably separating the sleeper from the insects, that flew into the chamber at night. His wife looked at him with a smle.

“Here I spent my entire childhood thinking of you, my husband. What are you like. How do you look. How do you say. What do you smell like?” She whispered, looking at him over her shoulder, as she untied her leather jacket.

Her rider's outfit perfectly fitted her curves, her breasts and buttocks which he had kissed and fucked so passionately in recent days. He felt pressure in his manhood at her words.

"And what am I like?" He grunted, not moving, looking at her expectantly. She smiled at his words. She took off her jacket and started unbuttoning her pants.

"You have a wonderfully low voice. I love it when you're deep inside me and talk to me." She whispered sensually, wetting her lips with her tongue, looking at him defiantly. His lower lip dropped slightly at her words, his chest heaving uneasily. He started to unbutton his pants.

"And your big hands. You hold me so tight with them when you fuck me." She purred, laying down on the bed in only her chemise, sliding it off her shoulders, showing him her beautiful, firm breasts.

She heard him swallow hard at the sight and she smiled widely. She was surprised that she still made the same impression on him as she had at the beginning of their acquaintance. She stared at him expectantly, watching him.

He walked unhurriedly towards the table where there were bowls of fruits that looked similar to the ones form their wedding night. He took one of them, cut into triangular pieces. It seemed meaty and juicy. He took a little on his fingers and licked it. It was cool, watery and sweet. He thought that was exactly what he needed.

"And your lips. They are full, they kiss and caress so wonderfully.” She grunted in satisfaction, as she saw him slowly making his way towards her. She saw that he was holding a piece of watermelon in his hand.

He stood over her. She took his free hand and slowly placed it on her breast. She massaged herself and pressed against his fingers, squeezing her eyes shut. "I don't think I need to explain to you that I love your tongue the most."

A smirk crossed his face at her words, letting her guide the movements of his hand, enjoying the softness and warmth of her breasts. He knelt in front of her, looking at her adoringly. He thought that they were made for each other. With his other hand, he placed the fruit on the bedclothes.

It was so brittle that a slight pressure was enough to break it apart under his fingers. She shuddered, looking at him with a sweet smile as his finger dipped in the flesh and ran over her other, exposed nipple.

It was so hot that he knew the cool fruit must have felt wonderful. She closed her eyes and hummed contentedly, delighted at how resourceful he was becoming.

She moaned sweetly as he leaned over her, the tip of his tongue teasing her nipple, trying a new and wonderful taste. He pulled away from her, feeling her whole body tremble under his touch.

"Is my tongue the only part of my body, that gives you pleasure?" He asked softly, looking at her expectantly.

"Of course not, my husband." She murmured encouragingly.

She was usually the dominant one. She took what she wanted, always made sure that she enjoyed everything. But with him she didn't have to worry about that.

She knew her pleasure was a priority for him and she could relax by focusing on teasing him. Aemond smiled to himself at her words and reached for the fruit again, scooping up a little more, than before with his thumb.

He put his finger to her mouth and she obediently parted her lips, allowing him to slide it inside. She sucked and licked it with her tongue, purring in delight, the wonderful sweet taste melting in her mouth.

She released his finger with a wet, loud sound. She parted her lips in contentment as he stood up and lowered his pants, his manhood throbbing all over, swollen and hard.

"Do you want to taste something new, my wife?" He asked low, stroking her chin with his finger. She smiled slightly and nodded her head.

She pursed her lips, feeling the wetness between her thighs as his hand sank into the soft fruit. He wiped all his manhood with it, making it dripping with juice. She thought it was the most perverted sight she had ever seen.

She immediately knelt in front of him on the bed, her tongue licking him up and down to see how it tasted. She purred contentedly, taking his wet cock in her hand, licking him further. His breathing quickened, his hand found its way into her hair.

"My good girl. I need you so fucking much. You know that?" He asked, looking at her as if she was the only reason he was still sane. She looked at him tenderly and lewdly at the same time, smiling sweetly.

"I know." She purred, taking him all in her mouth, sliding him all the way down her throat. He tipped his head back with a sound of delight, loving that she never compromised. No kind of intimacy embarrassed her, everything they did was completely natural and desirable for her.

When he had fun with Alys he only came in her mouth. He didn't want bastards like his nephews. With his wife, all he wanted was to come deep inside her, to fill her with his seed, to mark her with his presence. He had never felt so fulfilled as then.

That's why, even when she satisfied him with her mouth, he didn't fall asleep until he sank deep inside her, felt her wonderful warmth and came hard into her core.

He loved falling asleep inside her, and when he had to slip out, he watched with delight as his semen flowed out of her. He felt then that she was only his, and he knew that she loved that feeling herself.

For this reason, despite her wonderful caresses, he slipped out of her mouth and lay on top of her. He slid his tongue deep into her lips, tasting himself, licking her with grunts of delight. His hand found her swollen, sore clit, which he teased and massaged with two fingers.

He knew that when he touched the point directly it caused her pain. What she liked most was when he touched her all around, creating a slow, hot feeling in her lower abdomen. He smirked as she moaned softly.

Every once in a while his fingers slid into her wet, dripping entrance, teasing her. Her thighs parted invitingly before him, but he, unmoved, returned to earlier caresses. He felt her nipples hard with desire, pressing against his chest.

"Please, put him in me already" She whispered helplessly that what he wanted to hear. He looked at her with a smirk. He teased her entrance with the tip of his member, without putting him in.

"That's what you want, sweet wife? Do you want to feel how much your husband needs you?” He asked tenderly, breathing quickly.

"Yes, please, please, ah!" She moaned, leaning back as he entered her suddenly, slowly, sliding all the way inside her, pushing against her fleshy, wet, throbbing walls.

"You're so warm inside." He whispered in delight. He couldn't help himself and started to move inside her. He always promised himself to tease her longer, to get more of her sweet moans, but all he had to do was feel her and he was lost.

His cock moved on its own, seeking fulfillment, wanting to cum inside her, and her walls tightened around him, wanting to keep him inside.

They both began to pant, speeding up, their movements more aggressive and violent, his thighs slapping against her buttocks with a wet, perverted click. They stared at each other in delight, panting heavily, his thumb teasing her clit once in a while, making her shiver.

"I love you." He whispered suddenly, amazed at his own words that came out of his mouth spontaneously.

He loved her, because she traveled with him on the dragon, as befits his wife. He loved her, because she gave up her favorite activities, so he wouldn't feel alone in her homeland. He loved her, because she thought about his feelings and his needs, wanting nothing in return but reciprocation.

Her soft, startled groan answered him. She gripped his buttocks hard, his thrusts brutal and sure, massaging her where she needed it. She looked at him helplessly, unable and unwilling to hide her feelings anymore. She had never been so devoted or faithful to any other man before.

"Me too." She gasped, feeling she was on the verge of consummation, their bodies slapping each other with sticky, loud slaps, his hands clenched tightly around her hips. "Gods, I love you so much"

He leaned over her and kissed her, their lips and tongues colliding in a wet mess of their hot flesh and saliva. They gasped into each other's mouths, writhing under each other. They came moaning loudly, convinced that all of Volantis could hear them.

Aemond squeezed his eye shut as he felt his hot seed spill over her insides, filling her again. He stared at her, his eye filled with adoration and fulfillment. His wife reached up and stroked his cheek. She smiled at him warmly.

“I want to bear your children.”

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @aemondsfavouritebastard @watercolorskyy @astral-blossoms @randomdragonfires @amirawritespoorly @apollonshootafar @bellameshipper

Others: @ethereallocs @bellameshipper @tssf-imagines @menaosama @it-is-getting-better @danielle-leah1997 @czegochceszlol @strangersunghoon

#aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd aemond #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfic #aemond smut #aemond the kinslayer #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!oc #aemond x wife reader #aemond fandom #aemond fluff #aemond angst #aemond targaryen x you #dark aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell x reader #hotd smut #hotd x reader #hotd fluff #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon

[blacksapphhicmaddonna]

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH, ALPHABET MAFIA

just a few reminders:

- first pride was a riot

- black & BIPOC queer people are the foundation of our entire nation and the global culture

- we owe most of our rights and progress to BIPOC trans women/femmes and different communities of lesbians, trans/gnc folks and elders.

- trans people have always existed, they are ancient and indigenous to many cultures and places and are SACRED.

- I’m glad you’re here and there is community out there for you, waiting with open arms. Don’t give up just yet, please.

- rainbow capitalism isn’t liberation

- we are all we have, be fucking better to each other

- lesbians have done so much for lgbtqia+ people and should maybe idk stop being erased for no reason

- biphobia is real and just bc your ex cheated on you doesn’t make it bi folks fault, you’re projecting babe

- being queer doesn’t dissolve white privilege, pls touch grass

- be safe at pride. they’re coming for us all and we need to protect ourselves.

- not everyone wants to use the word queer/dyke/fag etc. I’m glad you reclaimed the slurs used against you, me too, but not everyone wants to and you need to respect that. LGBTQIA+* exists for a reason.

- the black and brown belong on the flag.

- the A is for asexual/romantic or agender, not ally.

- get some pussy (or whatever you do (or don’t do)) and make space for joy! because black/queer joy is revolutionary and fucking righteous just as much as our anger is, too

- Juneteenth coming up too, issa parade in my city fr

- asexuals/aromantics belong at pride. Period. Full stop.

- safe sex is the best sex

- get tested!

- it’s okay to not watch the news. america is hell, go take a nap

- people 100% know themselves better than you ever will, people are who they say they are and you don’t get to decide that for them. respect pronouns, identity, etc. or argue w ya mama/god/someone else cause it ain’t finna be me ❤️

- you deserve relationships that feel safe and actually are safe. Don’t settle.

- learn your queer history. they won’t teach us. they took our elders from us.

- Black LGBTQIA+* history IS Black History.

- we all need to be thankful to the house mothers and the ballroom scene and those who gave us what we have now, regardless of who you are.

- don’t call yourself a stud if you’re not BLACK. wit a capital B and at least one BLACK parent.

- not everyone is out. happiest of pride month to y’all. you’re still gang and we love you just as much. 💗

- our collective liberation lies in the fact that we are all tied to each other. if you’re down for the gays but not the theys, you’re not as decolonized as you think you are.

- shout out to fanfiction writers who have been single-handedly providing queer art/content/representation for years while the industry continues to make a mockery of us or intentionally leave us out. one thing we gonna do is help someone find their queer awakening, and get that story right. love us 🤪 go team

- your life means something. it’s important beyond comprehension. you look good. your ass is fat (if you want it to be). get the mullet as a lil treat.

- LGBTQIA+* people across the board have ALWAYS existed in literally every culture and every continent (and Antarctica counts if you count the cute lil gay penguins😌). Don’t let them tell you different. We are not a “mInOrItY”, we have been MINORITIZED. we are not small, we are great and mighty and have ALWAYS been here. And we always will. We exist in the future just as we have existed in the past. We stand on the shoulders of MASSIVE collective ancestors. If that’s not an indication to keep going, keep fighting, keep laughing, dancing, voguing, and keep showing up authentically - then I don’t know what is.

- it’s gonna be ok baby. pinkie promise.

#pride month #pri DEMON th #black sapphic #sapphic #nonbinary #gang fr #rainbow shit #alphabet mafia #gay shit boutta ensue fr #they/thems assemble #munch szn #pansexual ig

[likecanyoujustnot]

ACOSF- Feysand’s pov

Part 3: The labour

A/n: last part 😤😤. Sorry it took so long. I hope I captured the emotions right. Feedback and even recs of what to write next is appreciated.

Again it’s really long.

Rhysand

Nesta had been kidnapped. Taken into the blood rite. The fucking blood rite. Fully grown Illyrian males went in there and didn’t come out alive.

Plus the other two. Gwyn and Emerie, Cassian had said.

I knew Gwyn, we had taken her in after what happened at Sangravah, offered her a place in the library, which she had gratefully accepted. I’d spoken to her on a few occasions, she’d gone through absolute hell at the hands of those Hybern commanders. I knew Azriel didn’t regret killing them.

And Emerie. One of the unlucky Valkyrie females to be clipped even after I made it illegal. She owned a shop in Windhaven, Cassian had visited there a few times before she went to the trainings. I’d winnowed her to training when I was free, spoken to her, got her recommendations on how to handle a few of the Illyrian issues with the females.

Feyre was stressed, three females were in the blood rite, Cassian and Azriel had gone to the continent to save Eris. Everything had gone to shit.

Even as High Lord I couldn’t interfere, it would give the Illyrians the right to hunt and kill me. Laws would not stop them if anyone stopped them from doing a millennias- old tradition.

I sat in my office, signing more papers. Building permits, shipping nonsense, etc.

Rhys

Gods I loved the sound of her voice. It come so close to losing her, thanks to my pride and tendency to burden all my problems alone. I’d spent the last months doing everything I could to make it up to her, but also to keep her happy and take both our minds off what was coming. I’d make her breakfast in bed, we’d take long walks across the Sidra, I’d show her my favourite places from the area surrounding Velaris. But it wasn’t enough. Sometimes I would catch her staring into space, hand on her stomach. I’d pull her into my arms and we would both cry. For the life we wanted, but might never get.

Yes Feyre, darling?

I was so grateful, so grateful she had forgiven me, we’d fought, we’d cried but we’d made up.

My water broke.

The pen in my hand snapped.

That’s not possible you’re no where near full term. Fuck no.

I know that.

We’re supposed to have more time, more time for me to save her, save us.

I ran out of the house and winnowed to her art studio without hesitation. She sat in front in front of an easel- a half-finished rendition of Thesan’s palace in front of her.

Sure enough the was wet staining the front of her leggings, she was crying.

“Rhys-” I ran over and pulled her to me, as tight as I could. I kissed the top of her head as she started sobbing, tears streaking down my own cheeks. I was going to loose her, seconds before I myself lost my life.

I reached out in my mind for Madja, praying the healer would be free.

My lord,

It’s happening, her water broke.

That’s… not good.

I’m taking her to back to the river house, meet me there.

Yes my lord.

“Feyre, darling we have to get to the river house, Madja will meet us there.” Feyre was still sobbing into my shoulder. I picked her up, bridal style, and winnowed to the front of the river house.

I kicked open the door, and Mor ran down the stairs, Elain close behind her.

“Rhys, what happened?” My cousin ran up to us, peering at Feyre.

Feyre screamed. Contraction.

Elain paled.

“Madja is on her way.”

“She can’t be going into labour now, you’re supposed to have months.”

“I know Morrigan.” I snapped, I set Feyre on the bed. “I think it was the stress from Nesta and the others being in the blood rite.”

Mor nodded, face pale, lips drawn. “I’ll go get some towels.”

Elain knelt down on Feyre’s other side, taking her hand.

“Feyre…”

Feyre opened her eyes and looked at her sister. “Elain.”

“It’ll be okay. I promise, we’ll find a way to save you.” Elain looked over at me. “Won’t we?”

“We will.”

My lord I’m outside the house.

“Madja’s here, I’ll go get her-”

“No! Stay Rhys, please.” Tears were shining in my mate’s eyes.

“I’ll go.” Elain stood up and exited the room.

“It’ll be okay, love.” I pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Don’t lie to me Rhys. We still haven’t found anything, Nesta is in the blood rite, Cassian and Az are on the continent, and we’re…” going to die.

She rested her hands on her stomach.

“Feyre, you should try shifting, it might be worth it, if there’s any chance it could save you.”

“Rhys-”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

Madja walked through the door, bag under her arm. Elain close behind.

“If labour has already begun, the wings are already tearing her apart.”

I winced. And Feyre flopped back, turning into my chest.

My stomach dropped. No. That was our last option.

Feyre

I was going to die.

And Rhys was going to die with me.

Mor came back with some towels and placed the, on the bed beside me. “How are you doing?” Her voice was soft.

“I’m oka-.” I was interrupted by a contraction. I screamed.

Amren appeared in the doorway. “How is this happening?” Rhys must’ve told her about the labour.

“It’s probably the stress, Elain said your sister is in the blood rite.” I nodded at Madja. “Nasty tradition. Feyre I’m going to have to take the leggings off.” I nodded again, unable to form words.

“So… what do we do?” Mor’s voice was shaky from where she stood, hand on Rhys’ shoulder.

He looked lost, face drawn and eyes downcast. “I-” my mate’s voice broke. “I don’t know.”

“There has to be something.” Amren’s voice was uncharacteristically panicked.

The scent of blood filled the air.

Fuck.

Feyre. Rhys’s voice filled my mind.

Yes?

It’ll be okay, sweetheart.

No it won’t, Rhys, we’re both going to die. Nesta might already be dead, and who knows what’s happening to Cassian and Azriel.

Hours went by, I hardly felt as Madja poked and prodded me, tried everything to get Nyx to come out alive, and without killing me. The others spoke in quiet voices, trying not to disturb me as all my strength went into trying to heal my body. Contractions would take my body and Rhys would hold me as I screamed.

“What if she doesn’t make it…” Mor

“This is not fair…” Elain

“The babe is stuck…” Madja

“You Illyrians and your stupid anatomy…” Amren

“Open your eyes, Feyre.” Rhys.

He was stroking a thumb along my forehead. I looked up at him. His eyes were red.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” I reached a hand up to cup his face.

I screamed.

Rhys sat up suddenly.

“Azriel.” His voice came out choked.

The heads of the other four females turned to Rhys.

“He’s alive. So’s Eris, but he can’t winnow.” Mor looked disappointed at hearing that the Autumn Court prince was alive.

“What about Cassian?” Amren acted like she didn’t care most of the time, but deep down I knew she did.

“He’s been taken.” There was gasps around the room. “Briallyn.”

The human queen, turned crone by the cauldron.

“Az says she’s going after Nesta.”

“Where is Az?” Mor voice was panicky.

Rhys rattled off a location and Mor kissed my cheek before running out of the room.

“Do you think Nesta is alive?” Elain’s voice was quiet.

“Probably.” Amren turned to my sister.

“She must’ve used the crown on Cassian.” Rhys said, voice filled with worry for his brother.

“Well then why not take Azriel as well? That would’ve been the strategic decision, he knows more about how the court works than Cassian, he’d be less detectable too.” Amren contemplated

“Because Cassian means something to Nesta.” My voice was croaky and hoarse.

Everyone looked at me.

“Think about it, there are more ways to hurt someone than physically, you take someone they care about, whose life they wouldn’t dare risk. Their mate.”

“You knew.” Rhys’s tone was soft.

“I suspected, it would explain why Cassian put up with her for so long, why he kept pursuing her. You thought so too.”

He corner of his mouth turned up. “I did.”

There was a loud crash downstairs.

“Mor.” Amren said.

Two sets of feet ran up the stairs and the door was thrown open.

Azriel’s eyes widened as he took in the room. He walked over to the side of the bed and knelt down next to me.

“Feyre. I-”

I cut him off with a scream and he flinched.

“I’m so sorry.” He continued. He looked over me to Rhys. “We put Eris is one of the cells in the Hewn City until we can make sure he’s not still under the crown’s control.”

Rhys nodded. “Thank you.”

“What do we do about the rite?” He scanned the room.

“We can’t do anything. If we interfere they will kill us.” Mor said as she sat back down next to Amren.

“It’s a bullshit rule.” Azriel spat.

“One we can’t ignore, boy, so you’ll do best to keep quiet until we hear something from one of them.”

“I can’t believe they were taken.” Azriel stood up and ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck.”

He was concerned, he had been training them for months.

“You trained them well.”

Azriel glared at Amren, he had said the same thing to comfort Cassian when he was panicking earlier. He had been calmer then, his face was pale now and eyes holding worry.

“So we wait.”

I closed my eyes. The eventfulness of the last few minutes had tired me out. Rhys still sat next to me on the bed, laying at an uncomfortable angle so he could be close to me.

Rhys.

Yes?

I’m scared.

Me too.

I don’t want to die. We’ve come so far, defied death twice, it can’t end like this, it just can’t.

We’ll find a way, sweetheart, we always do. It’ll be okay.

Madja sighed.

Worry filled Rhys’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

“I still can’t get the baby to mo-” She was cut off by Rhys’s exclamation.

“Fuck.”

“What is it?” I grabbed his arm.

“The wards at the house of wind have been breached.”

“By what.” Mor stood up, looking like if Rhys said the wrong thing she would run over there to kill it.

Azriel’s shadows swarmed, some of them rushing out of the room.

“Two people, females.” He paused and looked at his brother. “Your Valkyries are back, Az.”

Azriel slumped back onto the couch.

“Wait, two?” Elain spoke up for the first time in ages.

Azriel’s shadows came back. “Emerie and Gwyn.” He relayed. “Rhys, they’ve become Carnythian.”

Rhysand

Three females went into the blood rite, two came out Carnythian. Carnythian. There are only four living Carnthians, and two of them were in that room.

“Not only did they survive the rite, they’re Carnythian?” Mor’s eyes widened.

“Yes.” Azriel looked like he wanted to winnow out and make sure the two were okay, but stayed out of loyalty to myself and Feyre.

I reached out in my mind and told Nuala and Ceridwen to go check on Emerie and Gwyn, make sure they weren’t injured, and that anything they needed they had.

I pulled Feyre into my chest and pushed her hair out of her face.

“If they’re alive then Nesta has to be right?” She asked.

“I don’t know.”

So we waited, for anything. Madja was running around and grabbing things from her bag, pressing on Feyre’s stomach to try and coax the baby to move, pressing her hands into my mate’s body, trying to save her.

It was then I felt it. That presence in my mind, Cassian.

“Mor, Az.” They both looked at me. “Go to the top of Ramiel. Cassian is there.”

Mor let out a sob and Azriel started muttering. They both rushed out of the room.

“Is Nesta there?” Elain asked me after a while, eyes full of hope.

“He didn’t seem to be overly distressed, so she should be.”

Feyre screamed. I glared at Madja. It was hard for me, seeing her in this much pain.

The door was flung open and Mor ran in, followed by my brothers and Nesta.

I had to keep reminding myself it wasn’t her fault she was taken into the rite, even if it did cause Feyre’s early labour.

Cassian’s face paled and Nesta’s eyes widened.

Madja didn’t look up as she said. “I’ve turned the babe, but he’s not descending. He’s wedged in the birth canal.”

Amren gasped.

“She’s losing too much blood, and I can feel the babe’s heart in distress.”

Fuck.

“What do we do?” Mor asked.

Cassian and Azriel came up behind me, placing their hands on my shoulders.

“There is nothing we can do, cutting the babe out of her will kill her.” Madja said.

“Cutting it out?” Nesta demanded, and I glared at her.

“An incision along her abdomen, even one carefully made, is an enormous risk. It’s never been successful. And even with Feyre’s healing abilities, the blood loss has weakened her-”

“Do it.” Feyre’s voice held so much pain.

“Feyre.” No. There had to be another way, I wouldn’t lose her.

“The babe likely won’t survive.” Madja’s voice was soft, but uncompromising. “It’s too small yet. We risk both of you.”

“All of you.” I felt Cassian’s eyes on me as he said it.

“Do it.” Even on her death bed, body being torn apart, I admired her for her tone. No fear, only pure determination in the voice of the High Lady. She looked up at me and I felt my heart break. “We have to.”

I nodded slowly, tears lining my eyes.

Nesta and Elain approached the other side of the bed, heads lowered as Elain started praying.

I was trembling, Cassian’s hand tightened on my shoulder as my power flowed into Feyre, trying with all that it could to heal her.

Madja got off the bed and returned with knives and tools, but I barely saw it looking down at my mate.

Beautiful. Strong. The most important thing in my life.

Doomed.

We both were.

“Go into her mind to take the pain away.” Madja said to me.

I blinked and cursed myself for not thinking of it sooner.

Elain had grabbed Feyre’s other hand.

“Feyre darling-”

“No good-byes.” Feyre’s voice was strained. “No good-byes Rhys.”

And I physically felt my heart shatter as her eyes closed.

There was no sound when my son came up, as Madja passed the unmoving boy to my crying cousin. Tears fell down my own face.

Madja swore.

And I began screaming.

I knew what was happening, that she was losing her grip on life as I lunged for my mate.

Feyre

I could feel death.

It hovered.

Around me, my mate and our son.

I could feel it over the yelling of the healer, the pleading of my sister, the crying of my friend as she held my lifeless baby, the screaming of my mate, the grunts of his brothers as they held him back.

I could feel it.

Death opened its arms to me, getting ready to take me as my breathing thinned.

And this wasn’t like last time.

Death seemed to whisper to me. There aren’t seven high lords here to save you this time, Cursebreaker.

There was a golden light.

But I ignored it as I slipped further into Death’s arms.

Rhysand

Cassian and Azriel were holding me back, fourteen combined siphons blazing with the force it took to hold me.

All I knew was I had to get to Feyre.

It was a primal urge now. Get to my mate. Get to her before death does.

These bastards.

There was a golden light.

Amren gasped.

Nesta.

She was wearing the mask, the crown sat atop her head, and in her arms was the harp.

She had all the items of the dread trove.

No one had done that and lived.

Nesta walked to toward the bed. Toward Feyre.

I surged for her. I was not letting her anywhere near Feyre.

Nesta held up a hand and my body went still.

Feyre’s chest rattled, and I knew that was her final breath.

I knew it as Nesta plucked the twenty-sixth string on the harp.

And Time stopped.

I was able to move again. I lunged against the hold my brothers had on me. Amren stepped next to us and hissed. “Listen.”

Nesta was whispering. “I give it all back.” Her shoulders heaved as she wept.

My head was shaking. And I could feel my power raising like a wave. I couldn’t tell if it was me or the reaction to my mate dying.

Amren grabbed the nape of my neck, her nails digging into my skin. “Look at the light.”

And there was light. Flowing from Nesta’s body into Feyre’s.

Nesta still held her sister as she kept repeating. “I give it back, I give it back, I give it back.”

I stopped fighting my brothers.

No one moved. Not Mor holding the too small bundle in her arms, not Elain, who had stepped back from the bed, not Cassian, Azriel or Amren standing with me.

The light flowed all over Feyre, down her arms and legs, over her pale, lifeless face.

A delicate tendril of light floated over to Mor. Toward where my son was wrapped up in her arms. It set the baby glowing.

Nesta was still whispering. “I give it back, I give it all back.”

The light kept filling them. It lit my cousin’s face and the shock was thrown in stark relief.

“I give it back.” The mask and crown tumbled from Nesta’s head and the light exploded. Blinding and warm, throughout the room.

It faded and dark ink was splashed on Nesta’s back. She made a bargain with the cauldron.

I lunged for Feyre, and this time I wasn’t held back.

I ran to my mate.

Feyre

My eyes opened.

Death was gone.

No longer hovering in the room.

Almost like that golden light had scared it away.

I blinked at Rhys, tracks of tears running down his face.

Then I turned to Nesta.

“I love you too.” I whispered, and smiled. Nesta sobbed and launched at me and hugged me.

A wail went up from the other side of the room.

Mor was weeping as she walked over to us. The baby in her arms wasn’t small, as I had seen in my glimpse before exhaustion had claimed me. No, this was a healthy baby boy. With thick dark hair and wings.

I sobbed and took Nyx from Mor.

I barely heard Madja as she said “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you developed an Illyrian’s anatomy.”

Rhys put his arm around me as we cried and laughed and took in our son.

He looks like you. I said into his mind.

How dare he.

I laughed again.

Madja approached us. “Let him feed.”

I bought the baby to my breast. Awed.

It hurts

But Rhys wasn’t looking at me.

Rhysand

I whirled to Nesta, who had slid off the bed and stood next to the mask.

I surveyed her.

My sister-in-law.

I fell to my knees, grabbing Nesta’s hand. “Thank you.” I wept, head bowed.

She had saved Feyre, and Nyx. I knew we would never be the best of friends, but for this, I would try.

Nesta dropped to the carpet in front of me. She lifted my face in her hands, before throwing her arms around me.

And I hugged her.

Feyre

“He’s asleep.” I said as I walked up to where Rhys sat on the couch

“Thank the Mother.” I sat in his lap and he pulled me into his chest. “I would’ve helped you.”

“Yes well, you’ve had a big day.”

It’d been a week since we’d almost died.

Rhys went to the windhaven with Cassian where the General had killed the males responsible for taking Nesta and her friends into the rite. Rhys had made it clear what happens if anyone who did not consent to being apart of the rite was forcefully taken and thrust into it ever again.

He’d also dealt with the last of the issues surrounding Eris and the Dread Trove.

I’d wanted to help, but he’d insisted that almost dying warranted a couple weeks of rest.

Plus we weren’t getting much sleep with Nyx’s crying and constant hunger.

The people of Velaris were rejoicing.

They had a prince. For the first time since Rhys’ accession almost 500 years ago they had a clear heir.

We’d been sent well-wishes and gifts from all across not just the court, but Prythian and beyond. Including a stuffed white wolf from Viviane and Kallias, a card with no more than 5 words from Keir, a basket full of little toys from Miryam and Drakon, a few of those fish I’d had at Adriata wrapped up and spelled not to go bad (for when you’re good tired to cook- read the card) from Tarquin and Cressida.

It made my heart warm to see all these people who cared and would one day get to meet our son, (except Keir, we were going to avoid that for as long as possible).

“I did say everything would be okay didn’t I?”

I laughed and smacked his arm.

But he did.

I had my mate and son. I’d somewhat healed my relationship with my sister.

Everything was okay.

Again, thank you for reading, the other parts are on my page, feedback, comments and reblogs appreciated.

#acosf feysand pov #acotar #feysand #sarah j maas #feyre archeron #rhysand #acotar fanfiction #nesta archeron #acosf #cassian #feyre x rhysand

[melanieph321]

Dusan Vlahovic x Reader - Boss Me Around Part 3/6

Reader is a former yacht girl now newly moved to Turin, Italy for her job as a real-estate accountant. There she meets Dusan Vlahovic, a former client of hers, a client she never thought to see again. However, with Dusan being Readers new boss their past becomes a liability. Nevertheless the spark between them still lives. This story is a romcom with both His and Her POV!

Enjoy!

Your first month in Turin was the perfect description of hell, and it made you seriously contemplate your life choices up until now. Your living hell situation wasn't because of your continuous struggle with the city's public transport system. No. Your living hell situation was caused by one man and one man only. Your boss, Dusan Vlahovic.

"Yeah, this is wrong. You'll have to redo it."

At this point you thought of him as a robot on autopilot, because every week when it was time to hand in your calculated reports of the companies revenues, Dusan seem to always find a way to belittle you by dismissing your work for the slightest and miniscule errors.

"It's just a spelling correction Mr Vlahovic. I'm sure you can interpret what I meant to write." It was strange, addressing him by his last name, however he made it very clear during your first week on the job that addressing him by his first name was a no no, and that he would  ignore you if you  did. To him Miami must have been a hallucination. A shame, because to you it had been very real.

"Interpret?" He frowned. He had been typing away on his laptop as you stood before him, presenting the weekly revenues. This was the first time he took the liberty to actually meet your eyes, however he did not seem happy to see you. "Interpret." He repeated, this time shaking his head with disappointment. "Y/N, you must not take your job very seriously if you're asking me, your boss, to interpret such an important document as the company's revenues."

His raised but steady voice, sucked all of the air out of your lungs and the room. And in the back of your head you prayed that you wouldn't shed a tear at the mercy of Dusan Vlahovic.

"I will not have it." He said, shutting his laptop.

"I...get that." You said, speaking through the sharp rasorblades that cut deep in your throat.

"Do you, Y/N?" He smiled, an evil and sarcastic smile. "Do you really?"

"Yes. I do. I really do. It's just that you've asked me to redue this revenue three times already and I'm starting to fall behind on other priorities."

"Then you must not be the greatest at managing your time, don't you think?" He leaned back in his desk chair, legs spread wide like some form of powerplay. It was only powerful to you because you had gotten to know the size of him more than once in Miami, and the memories of those nights now made you feel sick to your stomach.

"I want the papers on my desk before the end of this day, got it Miss Y/L/N."

"Sure." You muttered and with trembling hands went to retain the documents on his desk. You headed back to your office knowing that it was the last time your boss would ever get to talk to you in that way. You'd hand in your two weeks notice along with the revenue.

********************************************

Dusan took pride in being the first one to arrive and the last one to leave his office. It showed his commitment and the passion he had for his job. Others should take after him. Matter of fact, he should be working on a biography about his road to success. He came from humble beginnings in Serbia. Back then his dream had been to play professional football, but his parents had been right to push him towards higher education. Today he owned real-estate in three of the worlds continents. He was successful indeed. The only thing he felt to threaten that success was being taken care of. Yes, she put up a good fight trying to please his ridiculous commands but in the end she seemed to have had enough. Like any sensible person would. Dusan had found Y/N's two weeks noticed amongst the revisions of documents she had presented to him before she left for the day. He held it in his hand in the elevator on it's way down the now abandoned office building. He admired her calligraphy as it was exceptional. It was a shame that she hadn't gotten around to tell him about her higher education in accounting. Maybe then they could have avoided this mess in the first place. Then again, Dusan and Y/N hadn't spent their time in Miami getting to know each other. They had spent their brief time together getting to know each other's bodies. He suspected that she had previous experience with that sort of arrangement. Another reason he felt a need to get rid of her. What if the board found out that he had hired a former harlot as his accountant? It would be scandalous indeed.

Dusan stepped out of the elevator holding up his car keys in search for his Range Rover. It was Friday, which made the car harder to find, since a lot of his employees had the habit of abandoning their vehicles at the office and heading straigt to the bars in town. Dusan wasn't like that. He used his Friday's to unwind at home, not to party. He got into his car longing to cook the steak in his fridge that had been marinating over night. He would prepare it along with a homemade risotto, a recipe from a friend. He left the parking lot a happy man on top of his job and his life, that is, until a strange sight made him drastically turn his vehicle back around.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

He had pulled up to the bus stop where she sat, arms crossed to shield herself from the night's cold.

"What does it look like I'm doing." She hissed. "I'm waiting for my bus."

"You don't have a car?" He  ignored the attitude she had spoken to him with. He assumed that her newfound confidence was fueld by her annouced resignation.

"No, I don't have a car." She huttured. It was a cold night, too cold for someone wearing heels and see-through stockings.

"Get in then, I'll take you home." He said. He was in a good enough mood to do her the favor. However she snorted in his face, shifting to face another direction. Away from him. "Is that a no?" He frowned. He wasn't angry, just annoyed.

Y/N turned to face him, clearly upset. "That was a hell no, Dusan. As in no fucking way am I getting in a car with you."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" Her eyes widened. "Dusan, you must not be aware of the type of asshole you are."

His shoulders fell. Thank God she couldn't see him through the cars rolled down windows. "Asshole?" He wasn't familiar with the term. Nor had anyone called him that before. He didn't like it. "If you're reffering to our encounter earlier today, you must know that I am in the position to give you my honest but objective opinion."

"Bullshit!"

"Pardon me?"

Y/N, stood but did not approach his car. "Your opinions of my work has not been objective and you know it." She said. "I've been living here for a month and almost everyone in your office has taken the time to get to know more about me. Everyone but you."

Dusan frowned. "I don't see how that has any relevance to...."

"You haven't tried to get to know me Dusan because you know me better than anyone up in that office. And pretending not to, makes me highly suspicious that nothing you've said to me has been of objective matter."

God she was gorgeous, he thought. The way she wasn't having it, the way she saw through his bullshit.

"Just admit it. This is about what happened in Miami, the fact that I didn't tell you that I was moving to Turin right after graduation."

"Y/N, you never even mentioned that you were a student when we met." Dusan yanked the handle to the car door, stepping out onto the street. "Or that you were applying for a job in accounting."

"Why would I?" She snapped. "You told me you were from Serbia, what are you doing in Italy, huh? And as far as I know I didn't owe you anything on that yacht but my company, that's what I was paid for."

He snorted. "You were paid to do a little more than that."

She gasped, and the slap was anticipated. Dusan rubbed his cheek to mend the pain. "I wasn't..." She stood trembling, tears streaming down her face. "I wasn't paid to...." She lowered her head to the ground, wrapping her arms tighter around herself.

"Fuck me." Dusan sighed. He wanted to offer her his coat, but something told him that his concern would be excused for pity. "Y/N, please let me..." He stretched out his arm, offering her his hand. "Let me take you home. The time tables for the bus are different during the weekends."

"Great." She laughed, although he was sure that she didn't find it funny.

"Great" He chuckled

"What's so funny to you?" She frowned.

"I just realized..."

"Realized what?"

"That I am...an asshole."

Her expression withred seeing his smile. She nodded. "You really are."

"Would I still be considered an asshole if I drove you home?"

"Yes." She said, but took a small step forwards. "But a less worse asshole than you were this morning."

He grinned. "That decides it then. Get in, I'm taking you home."

#fanfiction #football imagine #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst #dusan vlahovic #dusan vlahovic imagine #dusan vlahovic x reader #juventus #turin #italy

[dflogerzi]

Musings

I don’t know about anyone else, but I truly feel low in how things are currently playing out with the BRF. I suppose it just goes along with the trajectory of the world itself... 

I keep thinking back to this young optimistic girl all those years ago in 1981. Just out of college, a girlfriend and I had planned for almost a year to head across the pond from California and see the dream. Europe. And we were going to be in London for the royal wedding. In those days young people from all over the world would pack their backpacks, purchase various train passes, and tour on very little money all over the UK and the continent. 

The months came, we spent three in total, and had mapped it out carefully to be in London for the wedding day itself. I had for most of my young life been an art and history lover and I was in absolute heaven. Back then the city was not the same as in these times. I did see the changes darken slowly through the years as I traveled often, but there was a golden haze in 1981. Smiles, decorations, flags, and on every corner souvenirs. You felt so safe zipping around on the underground, all were kind, and London felt like my own personal playground. We all fell in love with Diana of course, she was the fairytale. And I became a royal watcher for the first time.

Through the years as I watched through the lens of my own busy life her boys were born, raised, the dramas and traumas ensued, and I can tell you exactly where I was when I heard of the crash and then her death. As I lived in California there was not much I could do to express my sorrow, so I hung flowers on my door. It was a terrible week, and I had not one girlfriend or acquaintance that did not feel exactly the same. 

Time passed, William married, and I got up in the middle of the night to watch and beam at my TV with happiness and pride. And I did the same for Harry. I was one of those that was so happy for him. Finally he met a woman to start a life with who loved serving it seemed, and he could set down roots and continue his role as a huge part of the Monarchy’s future.

Never, ever, ONCE did I ever imagine we would be where we are. What Harry has done has made Edward VIII look almost tame. It is beyond belief to me that a son of Diana would take these despicable actions onto a global stage and work to destroy a legacy spanning over a thousand years. 

I have been feeling depressed. I am in low spirits for these developments, and for our world in general. Gone now are the chances for optimistic youths to travel freely, learn in person, and experience life in different places and cultures. It was not perfect when I came up, but it was golden in my memories... And no one can take them away. I could cry right now in the joy of them. I was so blessed. Thank you God and my angels.

I just had to write. And wander. And grieve. And although William will never see this and that is fine... my thoughts are with him and his family daily. I pray he finds strength as he navigates these terrible days. I hope I am here one day to see the good that will come. May he stay safe and blessed.

Thanks to anyone who got through this. Hug your family. We are promised nothing. 

Done with the writing of it. I suppose I will feel better. But I doubt it. 

[vshamru]

happy disability pride month to everyone who has continence issues. you are beautiful, you are loved, your body is a thing of wonder. may your next load of laundry be easy and may you experience the joys of fresh clean clothes often.

#txt #disability #incontinence #disabled #continence issues #im seeing a doctor about mine in a few days and I’m nervous

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

I'd love to hear more about Not a Soulmate AU

Not a Soulmate AU is a Geraskier fic where most people are born with soulmarks the color of their soulmate's eyes on their face. Jaskier is one of the very few born without a soulmark, which makes his aspirations of becoming a bard challenging. People don't take him seriously when he sings about love and romance, since the cultural perception is that love between soulmates is the only kind of True Love.

And then he meets Geralt, the first person he's ever met who also doesn't have a soulmark. (Most witchers do have soulmarks; Geralt is an outlier.) The fic is kind of stalled at this point, because I wrote the first 5K words in a rush, got to the point where Jaskier and Geralt meet, and realized that I hadn't actually figured out a plot yet. I know I want Jaskier to kind of desperately imprint on Geralt at first, since he thinks this might be his only chance at True Love, before he grows up a bit and gets to know Geralt as a person, rather than an ideal. I just haven't figured out how they get to that point yet or how long it will take.

Snip under the cut, since it's kind of long.

“Had this composition been handed to me by any other student, I would think I was looking at the work of the greatest bard of the decade.”

The warm little glow of pride in Jaskier’s belly is doused as surely as the time Valdo woke him by dumping ice water on his head. “What?”

Professor Weiss puts aside the parchment. “Julian, you must understand. People don’t just want a pretty song, they want to feel something when they hear music. Love, lust, anger, sadness. No one will listen to a bard with no soulmark sing about romance and believe a word he’s singing.”

“I can sing about romance.” It’s a child’s protest, Jaskier knows, as useless as when he promised Priscilla that he really did love her, that his lack of soulmark meant nothing compared to what he felt for her.

The old man sighs and shakes his head, pale blue eyes filled with pity. “Perhaps, but the people of the Continent won’t see it that way.“

Jaskier opens his mouth, remembers that he has months to go until graduation, then closes it.

“You still have options,” Professor Weiss says kindly. Honestly, Jaskier would prefer if he were a bastard about it. “Professor Andersen is searching for a new teaching assistant. I’d be happy to recommend you. Many talented songwriters make good coin writing songs for other bards to perform.”

“No.” Jaskier’s hand twitches towards his composition, like he can shield it from the very suggestion. The thought of those words—all the grief and loneliness and longing—being sung by another bard makes him feel nauseous.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” Professor Weiss says. “But no court on the Continent will employ a bard without a soulmark. I’m sure you know better than anyone that those without soulmarks make people… uneasy.”

“Then I won’t sing at a court.” Jaskier feels angry tears prickling the corners of his eyes. “I’ll travel the Continent, sing for the common folk.”

The professor heaves a sigh. “And you’ll consign yourself to a life of hungry, cold nights.”

Jaskier doesn’t want to sit here anymore and listen to this, especially when he can’t help but fear that the old man is right. “Thank you for the advice, professor. If I may go?”

Professor Weiss nods his permission.

Jaskier makes it two steps towards the door before the professor says, “Julian?”

Jaskier turns, swallowing back the bitter taste in his mouth. “Yes, professor?”

“I’ve taught at Oxenfurt for nearly fifty years,” Professor Weiss says. “In that time, I’ve seen six students without soulmarks pass through the bardic college. Their names were Agata Snyder, Simon Ludvic, Kristoph Meyerhoff, Mikhail Johansen, Lydia Kovac, and Gregor Friedrich. Have you heard of any of them?”

Jaskier shakes his head.

“That’s because not a single one of them made it as a bard. Lydia took orders at the Temple of Melitele and Kristoph had a somewhat successful career writing songs for other bards. The others tried their hands at being bards. None made it. Most went out on the road and were never heard from again.”

Jaskier swallows hard. “That won’t be me.”

He can tell from the look on Professor Weiss’ face that the old man doesn’t believe him. “I genuinely hope that’s true, Julian."

Ask me about my WIPs!

#the witcher #geraskier #ask games #ghost's writing

[amphiptere-art]

The Shadow wars part 1

Timeline / characters.

This is an original story of mine that I have had since I was merely a child. Created sometime near the end of my junior high although, ideas and a certain events were created earlier than that. (I also will note that this is not connected to wings of fire at all. I was not aware of the book series until I was into The 10th grade in high school) Due to having original story for so long it is gone through many revisions and many changes. Some that are still going such as character names and smaller events to flush out the timeline.

This also means that I'm not going to describe everything about the world and every detail. This thing is big. There are so many different things about this world that I created over years The gods, the people, the religions, the culture, shape of the planet, many other stories connected to the world. It is a very large expanse that this specific story takes place. And I will only be describing vaguely certain elements.

I also really marking things that I desperately want to change with a (CN) which means childhood name. As most of these will be names that are rather childish or simple. Although I will be using it for certain events that are either screwy or need to be changed to fit lore better.

I'm going to go through the timeline first and then go to the characters.

This is the pre-story people will need to know.

The Shadow wars is a time in history when dragons (which are the main protagonist) were mostly solitary and existed on a single continent. Named dragona (CN) The dragons were also separated by species and magical class. As the three elements that dragons possess nowadays were not a thing and dragons usually only possessed one element, although there was always cases where they could still learn their secondary element.

This led up to a hierarchy being made. We're usually the strongest family (usually processing a secondary element) would become the king of a region. There was one king for each element. And usually only one species for each elemental king.

The elements were fire, water, plant, rock, Air, electricity, metal, undead, ice, star, beast, Spirit, light, and shadow. Each king ruling over a specie. Western dragons being ruled by light, shadow and undead. Wyverns with fire and air. Asian dragons with water and star. Drake's with electricity and ice. Basilisks (or salamander) with plant and beast. Linworms with rock. Wyrms with metal. And amphiptere's with spirit.

These different kings were often that ends at each other. Small wars popping up. Soon a council of Kings emerged. And they would meet every 3 months. This helped keep the peace for a while But each element has their assumed behaviors. Fire was always assumed to be easily angered. The undead was usually perceived as creepy and unnerving. The air was always thought to be pompous. They were perceptions of almost every element and therefore every dragon group.

One of the worst impressions was placed upon the shadow dragons. The power of Shadow controls lower emotions. Coming out as anger, sadness, forgiveness. While the power of light also controlled emotion it controlled the higher ones. Happiness, excitement, pride. But as the Shadow dragons powered sad emotions so did the perception of their people. They began to be perceived as the bringers of misery. Almost anything bad was placed upon The Shadow dragons.

The light dragons did nothing to help. Despite the fact they ruled over the same species, And even could be mistaken for one each other as they carry the same features. They heightened the rumors. Did all they could to confirm other dragons suspicions of the Shadow folk. And soon a discriminatory council meeting was held. And the shadow dragons were driven out of their home. Away from the The continent of dragona (CN). And onto a isle on the pole. Suffering in a place of freezing weather and total isolation. A small isle in the middle of nowhere.

It is after event called "Banishment" that many of the shadow wars timeline begins.

The Shadow dragons lived on this isolated isle for a while. To the point that they grew numerous. The isle became crowded. Unable to hold their people without cities and towns stacking up on each other. The king of the Shadow dragons had grown complacent. (As of in the story he remains unnamed and probably will never be.) He has a son. His son is named Shadon.

Shadon grew up and had two sons. His first son was named viserin. They were an albino. Meaning that despite being a shadow dragon he looked like a light dragon. Which caused his father to hate him. So he became whatever his father wished of him. Becoming a spy and assassin for his family. Becoming well versed in shadow magic and was able to travel to the main continent through Shadow tunnels. Blending in perfectly with the light dragon folk. But despite his many achievements viserin was still hated by his father.

Shadon had a second child to make up for the mistake of viserin. This child's name is currently Shadow (CN). Shadow was a recluse. Not well versed in magic, combat, or anything for that matter. But he still was seen as the Golden child due to his deep black pelt. Blending into the shadows despite not using magic. He was a young and innocent soul. Not broken by war.

Soon shadon became impatient. He wish that his father the king would do something. He craved to go back to the mainland. As he was born there on like a son's. And when nothing happened over many many years. He decided to take it into his own claws.

The shadow king was found dead. Only two know how he died. And both keep their mouths shut. Shadon ascended to the crown. And with it, set a devilish plan in place.

The meeting

Shadon went to a council meeting in the first time in eons. Sneaking into the temple used for such meetings and taking a seat in the now Dusty chair. Most of the council dragons were shocked. The only one who showed outward anger was the light dragon king. As he believed that he had gotten rid of the misery bringers. Shadon made his case. Asking that the Shadow dragons be returned to the continent as despite the Shadow dragons being gone, wars and misery still continued without their presence.

They refused. Although much of the council was 50/50. The sway of the light dragon king caused almost all to vote against shadon. Shadon pretended to leave. Only to say a secret word and for his son viserin and many other assassins to leap out of the shadows and kill them all. Leaving only the light dragon king to stay as witness. Shadon promising him that he was going to witness the fall of the entire dragon kind.

Shadon went back to the aisle. Discussing a grand meeting with all the people. Hyping up their anger, sadness, and all other emotions towards the dragons of the continent. He promised sweet revenge. And soon all Shadow dragons on the aisles or up in arms for his cause. They were going to make the dragons of the continent pay. They were going to take back the continent by force.

The invasion

Shadow (CN) could only watch as his people armed for war. I'm being a young teen he had never seen such things before. Happy to live contently on the aisle even in the crowded space. Viserin watching on from the shadows of the light dragons. Keeping track of the panic that Shadon murders had caused. Soon the entire Isle of Shadow dragons were armed. And during the brightest part of the day they flew out to the continent. Coding the sky black as a flew overhead.

Many dragons of the continent called it the day the sky turned into a void. Shadow dragons fell from overhead. Attacking everywhere. The Shadow dragons had grown exponentially in number. Left alone for so long without worry a small wars or different poisonous plants and sicknesses that the continent caused. They outweighed many of the armies that tried to stop them. Defeating many by number.

Soon the war became slower as different lines were drawn. But shadon knew this would happen. Telling his people to camp out on the edges of the continent. Essentially trapping the continent dragons inside their own home. Unable to leave without fear of crossing a Shadow dragon territory.

Viserin was a course a part of the wars. Still a spy and assassin. Killings light dragon generals from within their own ranks. Shadow (CN) was disheartened by all the events. To him his father had grown mad. And the more and more the war continued, the more it seemed like that was the case.

Soon Shadons lust for power grew much bigger. And with the added room Shadow dragons could grow more and more in number. Soon he set out his dragons attack any continent that had dragons on it. Even if they were not associated with the kings at all. Soon it seemed like the whole planet was edged by dark shadows.

The locked isle

The war grew old. But the people still suffered. What resistance was left of the continent dragons was nearly gone. Turning only into defensive measures to keep what they had. Many other continents were also suffering, But one had a hope. The locked aisle (changed from the locked door island) was an isle that allowed for someone called the writer (once called, and sometimes still called the dreamer) to pass through into the physical world of the planet. (Which is written as the locked door by the writer)

The many dragons from the continent held hope that the writer would come and save them from Shadons evil. As the writer was a god. One who could change the ripples of Time and the shape of the world. Higher than the three gods. Higher than the celestial gods. Higher than the elemental gods. The writer was the ultimate God that controlled everything that happened. (The writer is of course, me).

Some dragons were sent through the portal in order to recover the writer. And Shadon was not pleased by this information. Sending out many of his best troops to the locked isle. This included himself and his sons. The dragons in the isle (which were mostly peaceful) fought back against his invading forces. Hoping to hold off the mad King until the writer did something about him.

The writer did emerge but they did nothing about Shadon. Simply happy and content to come inside world that they had written. As a God not wishing to mess with the happenings of the world. Or perhaps wishing to keep the problem so the story could reach a better conclusion. The dragons of the continent did not realize this inner philosophy, and therefore continued the beg the God for help.

Shadon of course did not know these things. Setting out whoever he could hunt for the writer. Believing that if he killed the God that no one would stand in his way. Shadow, of course dragged into this, was also sent out to search for the writer. And eventually he did.

A darker hope

Shadow (CN) was able to find the writer. But due to not agreeing with his father's actions did not harm them. And he promised not to tell of their location either. The writer of course thanked him but said that even if he tried It would be rewritten, and would never happen in the first place. Shadow (CN) was a course confused. And but said nothing else. Simply wishing to leave and tell his father the lie.

The writer stopped him. Asking that if he did not agree with his father's decision then why not stop him himself. Shadow (CN) of course told them that even if he did, his kind would still be patronized. And the writer asked if he truly believed that that ending would be what they would write. That they would leave the story on a hopeless ending.

Shadow (CN) was of course confused before realizing their meaning. But still they said that they could do nothing. He was weak, meek, not versed in magic. They were practically a nobody. Only given power by association to his father. But the rider quickly shut him up stating that even if he could not hold power above his father. He could at least prove to the continent that Shadons own son did not agree.

Shadow (CN) thought about the idea. Leaving the writer with a thank you and heading home. Shadow (CN) of course knew that what the writer said was true. There was a part of him that was afraid. He knew his father would probably attack him if he did anything. But the writers words strung true in his head. So he decided he was going to stand up to his father.

It was after a fight that Shadow (CN) approached his father. The defeated continent dragon's fleeing in the background. He yelled at Shadon. For causing an already bad impression of his people to get worse. For extending out of war the only needed to be towards the continent dragons. For not completing his objective of making sure the Shadow dragons happy by continuing on the war.

He attempted to attack his father. At this point the fleeing continent dragons stopping to watch. His father was of course much stronger than him. And was one to use trickery to win. Shadon was outraged by his son's treachery. Intending to kill him. Pinning down his son. Claws raised high to land a killing blow. Before the world stopped. And blood trickled down his neck.

Fading of the light

Viserin. Who had been mostly quiet about his father's actions, slit his neck. Viserin did not agree with his father. And he was not going to let Shadon kill his brother. The one he had soothed and cared for for years without his assistance. Who had helped him with the grief of the death of the previous king. Their grandpa. Who had been killed in cold blood in front of them. He, who had taken on all his brothers punishments and bereavement. He was not going to let him die.

Shadow (CN) was shocked of course. Watching as his father's body sputtered and fell. A familiar pain washing through his body as he looked at the Frozen figure of his father. Viserin did not let him look upon it long. Taking him away. Only giving a passing glance to the continent dragons before flying off.

The continent dragons were a course in of course in an uproar. And the new council of Kings now understood the shadow dragons were being unfairly treated. While the king of the Light dragon still held resentment. His word was old. Seeing as now almost every king was new except for him. So The new council called out too shadow (CN) and his brother. Asking for a meeting.

Both appeared. Feeling uneasy in the presence of dragons that had treated them so terribly. The council of Kings agreed that the Shadow dragon should be let back into the continent of dragona. Some of the kings only agreeing to do so in hopes that another large scale invasion would not happen. The brothers agreed. Shadow (CN) became the new king despite the fact that viserin was older. Viserin complaining that it was him who actually decided to take action and that he was only his sword.

And so the Shadow dragons returned to the continent of dragona (CN). Settling down in the home they had been kicked out of. Hoping to start new bonds without the need of war.

This ends part 1 of The Shadow wars.

It is after this that part 2 of The Shadow wars happens. Shadow (CN) has a twin egg. And dies of old age. Unfortunately there are still much discrimination against his people. No matter how much he tried to get rid of it. The two twins that hatch from the egg try to solve this problem in their own ways. Starting the story I call-

falling siblings.

But that is a story for another day

Character descriptions

I have never once drawn these characters. Only a vague impression of their shapes in my mind.

All Shadow and Light dragons look like your generic d&d dragon. Known to me as Western dragons. Having four legs and two wings. Light and shadow dragons in particular have fins that run down the entirety of their back, neck and tail. These fins of course can be in different positions but are always there. Otherwise they are exact copies of each other except for color. Of which light dragons are usually white, while Shadow dragons are black or gray.

Shadon

Sharon is a relatively bulky dragon. His fin is lower. With the spines that make up his fin popping out like spikes. His crown of horns is quite short. Having three horns on each side that taper downwards before abruptly pointing back up, getting longer the higher up the crown you go. He has large broad wings. And a tail with a high sail. He also has another "Fin" that goes along his side, But the fin part of it is relatively gone and is basically just spikes. His colors are relatively gray. With accents of deep maroon red.

Viserin

Viserin is of course albino. Causing his skin to be a white rosy pink. With the characteristic red eyes. He has a high set Mohawk fin. Also following his father with a high sail on the end of his tail. His crown of horns is relatively sharp. Having two on each side that point straight back. He is a relatively thin but bulky build. With long thin tapered wings. He also has fins that are on his hocks and wrists.

Shadow

Shadow has always been the most generic base for what Shadow dragons look like. A general soft build with a consistently sized fin going all the way from head to tail. Although he does have two that act as ears just above his horns reaching down to his chin. reaching the high sail Mohawk height that his brother has. He has standard straight but wavy horns that you would find on any dragon illustration. He has always had quite detailed hands though. Which unlike Shadon look nimble. He also is jet black. With only his fin acting as a gradient against his dark body.

The old Shadow King

I have always envisioned him with a double fin that was standardized like shadows. Looking relatively like viserin if he wasn't white. Although would always have a fat belly.

The light dragon King

This character will get a more detailed description later. As he plays a better part in the twins story. But in short he is a radiant white dragon. His body shape is very much similar to viserin. But without the fins on his hocks and wrists. Instead he has two broader fins that line his wings. Often creating the effect that he has two pairs of wings instead of the one pair.

That is all to this character descriptions I care to describe for this section of the story.

So what are you guys think of this story that I've had for ages. I know this isn't Sun and Moon related. But I have loved this story since I was young. And I'm still doing things to improve it. I mean there's three arcs for goodness sakes.

I decided to post this mostly because of what I was talking with @synthcoyote about. As I have many many many stories that are not connected to the Sun and Moon show that I love with all my heart. This one is just the oldest.

#original story #original writing #my oc #dragons #The Shadow wars #The locked door #Shadon #viserin #shadow (CN) #The Shadow King #The light King #stories of the locked door #SW1 the meeting #SW1 The invasion #SW1 darker hope #SW1 fading of the light #SW1 banishment

[warlock-enthusiast]

"You're the smartest person I know."

Prompt number: 5 Fanfiction Fandom: D&D homebrew campaign Rating: PG Characters: Veldarin, Arcelm (@feylen ) Warnings: non apply

The libraries of the Feywild were filled with wonders and monstrosities alike. Veldarin still suffered from a wound that was caused by a book biting his arm, clearly not happy about being picked up from the shelf. And just a few hours earlier, one had sprouted wings and found an escape through a broken window. He’d need to convince Titania that sometimes accidents happen and appeal to her pride and beauty.

That always worked with the leader of the summer court. 

Currently, he paged through a retelling of the childhood of some long forgotten hero. Back when the continents still were united and ruled by a class of people that are no longer remembered. He’d spend months now to better understand how the Gods brought such ruin and destruction to their world and then simply left them for a century or two. Wars waged, civilizations rose and fell, and they simply watched.

No wonder that other presences tried to smuggle their way into the heart of mortal souls. 

An exasperated sigh echoed through the air and Veldarin took the volume with him to get back to the table that he shared with his the only other person in this vaste, private library. It truly never hurts to be on good terms with the courts and indulge in their politics and parties. 

Arcelm sat in a high chair, back hunched and glasses almost sliding from his nose. His hair was unusually messy and ink was splattered on his fingers. Strange to see him like this, because normally he took pride in looking polished and ready for wherever adventures might lead them. Veldarin understood the frustration. They followed a rather intricate puzzle and were not an inch closer to solving it. 

“I wish I could understand this better. It’s difficult to read.” He looked up and his eyes appeared red and swollen from the constant reading. They’d need to take a break from research soon and enjoy some of the markets. Indulging in some ripe fruits and souvenirs for the loved ones that had stayed behind in the normal plane. Not everyone seemed interested in setting foot back into the Feywild and the shenanigans that always happened. 

Veldarin kissed his forehead. "You're the smartest person I know."

“As if…” He poked out his tongue and looked a little less tired, but annoyed by Veldarin’s words.

That earned him an impressive display of rolling his eyes. “Ha-ha. Not sure if that will help us.”

“It’s not all about bookish knowledge. Empathy matters as well.” Shrugging, he took the seat right next to the half-elf.

“Not to mention seducing a handsome, older Drow gentleman, which is no small feat after all.”

“Probably not, but I like pointing it out.” Smiling, he took Arcelm’s hand and pulled him up. The sudden movement pushed him against his chest. 

“Time for a break, I think.”

#fictober23 #veldarin #arcelm #aesis #headcanons #d&d

[anystalker707]

Home

Pairing: Frank x Reader Word count: ~ 2 100 Genre: Comfort / Fluff Summary: Frank is finally back after touring for a long time and delayed flights.

Requested by @lubbockshusband [How about after my chem being on tour frank is just tired and wants to be home to his s/o (...)]

Despite the long months that dragged by, the house still feels awfully empty and way too silent. It’s right, though—getting used to this isn’t an option. The days feel awfully longer, and not even hours spent working or on facetime seem to make time decide to go any faster.

Something about seeing Frank’s pictures on tour doesn’t have only this anguish and longing twisting in my chest, but also pride and happiness, which diminishes the desire for him to come back so soon; he enjoys it far too much, even more after so long. Nonetheless, I still want him here, to hug and kiss and cuddle, to prepare my favorite dish when I’m too lazy to cook anything.

Everything has been feeling worse during these last days, though, given how Frank was supposed to have arrived earlier in a flight that ended up not happening and had the band stuck in another continent for a few of days so far without the— Well, I wouldn’t say they have no foreknowledge regarding when they’re coming back, I’d say that just I have no idea of when they’re returning because they didn’t inform me on anything. Typical of them, in a way, but still doesn’t fail in making me worry.

Fuck it, next time I’m packing it up and going with him, it doesn’t matter what my boss says.

A sigh escapes my nose—maybe a little heavier than it should because even Soup is whining as she nuzzles my leg lightly. She is looking at me when I turn to look at her, and I don’t know which of us feel worse about this, but I still try to have her lighten up a little, petting her head before I slide open the door to the backyard; the sound is enough to even have Lois show up from God knows where to go outside, so Soup ends up following her.

“Right,” I mumble, tapping the pen repeatedly against the paper in a hope it’ll help me ground myself easier so I can actually make a list of what I’ll need the next time I go to the grocery store instead of staring at the paper sitting on the marble counter all night long.

This shouldn’t be so hard. Things aren’t like that just because Frank isn’t here, right? I hate how it feels like my fingers just don’t grip the pen right, my toes just can’t sit together comfortably against the ground, and my clothes sometimes feel too rough against my back, and—

“Fuck!”

Did I hear it right or am I hallucinating things? I hold my breath, frozen still, making sure I’m making no noise.

“Fucking shit!” The sound of rattling follows, finished by a thud.

Alright, I’m fucking sane. I think. I put the pen aside to go to the living room to check, and there stands Frank with his back turned to me and his bag by his feet while he struggles to set his guitar case and another bag down. He continues cursing under his breath, probably undoing some of the straps and soon his other bag meets the ground.

“You’re back already!” I move to close the door, enough to have him look at me with wide eyes, and help him put the guitar case down. “Couldn’t even let me know you were on the way back?”

“Sorry!” Frank purses his lips, groaning as he nudges his bag with his foot so it won’t fall over, and maybe he nudges it for more times than needed with a stress that takes over shamefully fast. “I got too caught up on things, I just couldn’t wait to see you!” His voice grows whiny the way it always does when he arrives home after a long day, overwhelmed, and something shifts and warms up in my chest with it, finally having all the feelings inside it settle down once his arms are around me for a hug, his face buried in my shoulder. “It was so good! The tour, I mean! These last days have been so stressful, though, I—” Frank interrupts himself with a sigh, which is followed by his stomach’s grumbling.

A smile tugs on my lips and I press a kiss to the side of Frank’s face, nuzzling him a little. He still smells a little different, but it’s just a small edge that doesn’t make him any less comforting. “I’m sure it was, and I can’t wait to know everything that happened! Why don’t you take a shower to calm down and relax for now while I fix you some food, then we can talk, hm?”

“Yeah, right,” Frank breathes as he starts to pull back just to stop midway, his hands resting on my forearms to give them a soft squeeze as if reassuring himself it’s real. A wide grin tugs on his lips whilst a soft sigh escapes my lips; my heart flutters.

“Remember to breathe and go!” I roll my eyes, cupping the side of his neck to bring him close enough for a soft kiss before I pull away—because he won’t do it himself—to walk back to the kitchen, giving his ass a light slap when I walk past him. He is still grumbling on his way upstairs, but he never receives the attention he seeks with it.

Relaxing and calming down are two things that Frank hardly does in general, hence there’s no real surprise in how he clearly remains in his vibrating-in-excitement state when walking into the kitchen again with his wet hair combed back, some shorts and an old band shirt. He’s about to say something, sucking in a breath, but his words are replaced by a gasp as he runs to the backyard. Soup barks once and it’s more than enough for me to know what’s going on; I chuckle, glancing through the glass doors while I serve Frank’s food.

“Frank?” I call, hopefully loud enough. “Come eat. You know they’ll follow you.” I move to grab a can of juice from the fridge and he still doesn’t show up, only doing so when I’m about to call for him again, walking into the kitchen with a poorly suppressed smile under my glare. Shaking my head, I put the can down, watching him finally take a seat after struggling to walk down the kitchen without stepping on—or tripping over—Soup and Lois. “So?”

Frank’s features fall softer, still with happiness lingering on them, as he takes the fork in hand and hums softly, messing with the food a bit, pausing a little and only then I notice Soup sitting next to him with her head on his lap whilst Lois is probably by the other side of the chair, given his glances. “Well, you know most of what happened, of course.” He tilts his head with a light shrug, leaning in to bring the fork to his mouth. Not like Frank was able to spend a day without at least sending me a thousand texts, which could also be accompanied by a call or facetime, which also lasted over an hour, regularly. “But yeah, the last days have been complicated since the flight was canceled and stuff. Like, I don’t know how Ray could fucking keep calm during all of it.” He rolls his eyes as he reaches for the can juice.

“Or maybe it’s about how you guys were too desperate about all of it.” I scoff mockingly—he has a point, whatsoever, I know how anxious the guys can be and how they probably already had plans for when they returned home, just for everything to be ruined in short notice—and pull a chair to take a seat across from him.

Frank twists his mouth, scoffing, and sips on the drink. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Go on,” I chuckle. Fuck, I missed everything about him, from his presence to the little tantrums. I reach for the can, taking a sip of it as well, maybe because I really want it, maybe because I just crave more interaction with him. The way he glares at me playfully snatches another chuckle from me terribly easily.

Frank hums, pursing his lips. “Right, so we had to find a hotel so we could stay in the city until the next flight and stuff. I didn’t really know what was going on because I didn’t really talk their language and stuff, and I was too desperate,” he mocks my tone while scrunching his nose, compelling me to snort.

The house finally isn’t so empty anymore. It’s also warm—not that it was exactly cold before—and comfortable again. None of us shut up for a single moment, no matter if we’re telling each other the things we already talked about before just because the urge to hear more of each other’s voice in person is huge. Keeping myself from touching him in some way the whole time is impossible. Like he’s a fucking mirage. Six months are so fucking long, way too long.

After all this time, it’s difficult to even leave each other for a couple of minutes, as if one of us were to disappear just for the lack of the other’s presence. Pathetic, yes, hopeless even. Either way, things are fine again when we’re finally under the covers, snuggled together in the comfort of our bed. It doesn’t even take Frank five minutes and he’s putting his phone aside on the nightstand after messing with it for a moment—probably turning on the do-not-disturb mode given how the notifications decrease—before he moves over to lie on top of me.

“Oh, my God,” he practically groans into my chest, shifting around until he finds a nice position, with his cheek pressed to my shoulder whilst his breath fans over my neck. “I missed this so bad...” His words run one into the other, almost as if he were melting.

“Yeah, me too.” A smile tugs on my lips, and I take a moment to feel his chest moving against me as he breathes, inevitably synchronizing it for a few seconds, which pretty much goes in vain since he’s still breathing rather fast. “F—”

“What about you, though?” He asks, letting his fingers fidget with the creases on my shirt. “How were these last days?”

“I had just been working, mostly.” I give in with a sigh, hoping I will help him calm down by running my fingers through his hair, taking my time on the strands on the back of his neck since he always loves it when I mess with his hair there. “Monday was a very busy day, but I finished everything a little before lunch both today and yesterday, so I was mostly hanging out with Soup and Lois. I was actually making the shopping list when you arrived.”

“Sounds like Monday sucked.” He clicks his tongue. “Did you add burgers to the list? I’ve really been wanting to eat some. Or homemade pizza, y’know.”

“I don’t think so, but we can add it to the list tomorrow.” I hold back a yawn; I don’t want to sleep just yet, I need to spend at least a little more time with him.

Frank gasps softly, and shifts as he brings himself up on his elbows. “Well, but what if we forget about it? It would really suck, I really want to cook with you again! You could even take the day off so—”

“Frank.”

“—we can spend the whole day together, y’know? It would be—”

“Frank!” I can’t help but to glare at him; my heart heaves with how he pouts, looking at me with wide and lost eyes. “Frank,” I say softer this time as I bring him closer again to resume his previous position against me, “you said you’ve been craving it lately, so I’m sure you won’t wake up tomorrow just not craving it anymore. Not to mention that you’re back now.” My fingers run through his hair again, sometimes scratching his scalp just the way he likes it. “We can do it whenever. You don’t need to worry, okay? You’re home. Just relax. There are no canceled or delayed flights anymore.”

A long silence follows, and Frank’s breathing slows down gradually, eventually matching mine instead at the same time the tension unravels away from his muscles and he shifts a little around me until finding a position much better than the previous one, though still lying on top of me, with our legs tangled, and allowing me to play with his hair.

“It’s good to be back,” Frank sighs, letting his forehead press to my neck as he shifts closer, his eyelashes tickling my neck. “I missed you so bad. I love you so much. Too much.”

“Yes, I know how it feels.” I smile hopelessly. “I love you.”

_____________________

tagging list: @trans-ylvania | @newgirlinhell

#poison.fic #my chem #my chemical romance #fan fic #fan fiction #frank iero x reader #frank iero #x gender neutral reader #x male reader #x female reader #x non binary reader #mcr #mcr x reader #oneshot #x reader #imagine #mcr imagine

[sanguivor]

Okay. I can't take it any longer. I NEED to ask you to tell us more about Velthryn, if you'd like to just. Dump anything about her, her backstory, campaign, art, what she looks like, whatever. I wanna KNOW.

I am so incredibly happy for this ask because Velthryn is my pride and joy, she's the best thing I've ever done, and she breaks my heart.

she's my very first d&d character and I played her for over three years in a campaign with my friends, we finished it last year actually and I'm still thinking about it. everything about the campaign was homebrewed, from the setting to the lore and the history of the people that live there, and it's so incredibly rich and detailed it's incredibly impressive considering that was the first time my friend dmed anything, so the story and the plot are entirely him but everything Velthryn was like the weirdest love letter between the two of us. I'm so incredibly proud of how her personal story played out.

I've talked a bit about her before (I have a tag for our campaign here) but never went into detail because I managed to keep her backstory a secret for THREE YEARS for plot reasons so this is the first time I'm going in depth about her like this I'm excited.

Velthryn is an assassin rogue moon elf from the far north, a land constantly blanketed in snow and ice even in the summer months, and under near constant night for most of the year. she's specifically from the Black Cathedral (Astaeran in Mavel'en, the archaic language moon elves speak) which is one of only two places inhabited in the far north, the other being the city Leirion, and both are inhabited solely by moon elves - the rest of the continent is separated by mountains, superstition, and sometimes the moon elves blades.

the Black Cathedral is a cult where generations of moon elves are raised in isolation to make offerings and prayers in blood for the Night Father so he might usher in what moon elves call the eventide, endless night and sleep not just for them but everything and everyone. a gentle end of the world. Velthryn was one of five moon elves called Nightdaughters, who are chosen every half a century to bring death to what the Cathedral call the five fated to die on the continent. just before the start of the campaign she and her sisters (Maevan, Ylaria, Helle, Honoria) found the first of the five; a farmer and his children still asleep in the early hours of the morning, and their deaths were not gentle. Velthryn, raised with the belief that death was a gentle mercy, could not reconcile the bloodlust she shared with her sisters so she did what no Nightdaughter should ever do or has ever done. She fled, and by sheer luck or fate ended in the company of the three others who should have been her sworn enemies but ended up being her greatest and only friends.

knowing full well a Nightdaughter who abandons her pilgrimage and her sisters should take her own life or be hunted by her sisters Velthryn stayed with what became our d&d party not because she thought the Cathedral was wrong but because she thought she could fix what she and her sisters had done. She was going to give a proper end to the five fated to die, give a proper prayer to the Night Father.

and for the next three real life years I got to figure out how Velthryn would navigate a strange world without the safety and familiarity of her sisters and their pilgrimage, how she would come to terms with the knowledge everything her Cathedral taught her was a lie, from the pilgrimage's purpose to the very existence of her gods, I got to make the heartbreaking decision in session where she sacrifices herself in place of one of the five fated to die in an attempt to save them and to atone for leaving her sisters, her pilgrimage, her god and her belief, only to come back from the gentle peace of death by the very god she died for who wanted more from her. she watched and felt most of her sisters die, dealt the killing blow for Maevan, she and Ylaria spared one another but went their separate ways, and Velthryn returned to the Cathedral alone. the campaign ended with Velthryn realizing the only mercy she could give the Night Father was the gentle peace of death, and as his last Nightdaughter she was the one who held the blade that brought the end to the old gods, whether they are or ever were gods no longer mattering.

she also once did 144 points of damage in a single attack. I LOVE assassin rogues <3

she's incredibly quiet and soft spoken, a good liar not because she's charismatic (the opposite actually) but because her expression is as unchanging as ice, she's intimately familiar with death and killing but she's not cruel, does not abide needless suffering. the first time she spilled blood on solid ground free of snow she slipped on it. she killed an oni single handed in two turns of combat (my dm is STILL mad at me) before anyone else had a turn. she's so unnerving she spooks horses just by being near them, and she hates them for being foolish and clumsy. she's so unused to sweets she thinks they're gross. she has a passive perception of 24, absolutely nothing got the drop on her. she's a rogue but she can't pick locks or pickpocket to save her life. her party had a paladin and a cleric and she was somehow the most devout of all of them. her fave colour is purple because of the purple in the arctic lights. she's my babygirl she's a murderer she's my everything <3

visually I've always had Vel compared to a ghost, piercing white eyes and hair with unnaturally pale skin in constant contrast to the black garb gifted to Nightdaughter's and her uncanny ability to disappear (+17 stealth by the end of the campaign lmao) she's often likened to a specter in appearance and thematically throughout the campaign. she was fully supposed to die but post campaign she's replaced the previous Elders of the Cathedral who she and the party killed in revenge for what happened to her and her sisters, it's the only time she was never merciful in her killing, and with centuries ahead of her she means to ensure the old gods rest is not disturbed.

I have a tag for her: x

two playlists: x + x

and a pinterest board: x

also a tag for her complicated love and rivalry with maevan: x

and a playlist for them too: x

there are so many different things about her I haven't even touched on, like the fact she and Maevan took the places of the fourth and fifth meant for sacrifice, but soooo much of the lore and campaign plot ties into the other party members and those aren't my stories to tell (though feel free to ask @mismageus about Áine, the little sun elf cleric who's saved Velthryn's life in more ways than one I know she'd love to talk about her)

anyway thank you soooo much for the ask I love talking about Velthryn <3

#this was so much longer than I expected lol #lipsie #asks #heretics campaign

[muldxr]

Hey Laur 💕 Just wanted to say happy disability pride month and happy 32 to the ADA! Thank you for trying to raise awareness! If you're feeling up for it, would you like to share some disabled artists or advocates that we should know more about? As a designer I'm always striving towards more accessible and inclusive works and try to continously educate myself, clients and interns/students, so I am always grateful for new perspectives! Thank you and sending so much love your way 🤟

Hi, of course! We celebrate disability pride year round! (alternatively: I'm posting this ask outside of July because I wanted to put together an intensive list)

[ Disabled Artists/Creators: ]

Christine Sun Kim (Korean-American deaf woman. she works as a sound artist and has done a Ted Talk. her art famously depicts issues between the hearing and deaf worlds)

Lachi (black blind woman. singer and advocate for accessibility and visibility in the music industry. she has a youtube series documenting her journey.)

Troy Kotsur (white deaf man. long-time actor respected by the Deaf community who finally got his mainstream recognition through CODA, now trying to break through in activism)

Youmee Lee (Korean-American deaf woman. an artist w/ many medias such as animation, clay, painting, and digital art.)

Donald Rodney (black disabled artist who passed away in 1998 from sickle cell anemia. his art heavily centered around his experience being ill, alongside other topics such as racism, inequality, and bodily autonomy.)

Sam Slupski (white, chronically ill, non-binary writer and content creator. they discuss their experience with OCD, chronic illness, their gender journey, and is otherwise a very calming lifestyle blog!)

Chuck Close (white disabled artist with dyslexia, prosopagnosia, and paralysis. his work focused on abstract photorealist portraits of people.)

MANY MORE: Raul Pizarro (visual artist w/ muscular dystrophy), Mari Katayama (multimedia artist and amputee), Phelan Conheady (deaf content creator), Christy Brown (artist and writer w/ cerebral palsy), Riva Lehrer (painter and writer w/ spina bifida), Meeya Tjiang (deaf digital artist and designer), Keith Salmon (blind landscape artist), Nabil Shaban (actor and activist w/ ostogenesis imperfecta), Frida Kahlo (painter w/ chronic pain and spinal injury). Even more here!

[ Disabled Activists: ]

Judith Heumann (white Jewish disabled woman. wheelchair user. activist, author. if you know disability history, she's been around since the civil rights movement.)

Ebony R. Gooden (black deaf woman. frequently discusses her intersectional experience and boosts other black creators.)

Sarah A. Young Bear-Brown (Meskwaki deaf woman. advocate for deaf indigenous rights. link is to her twitter. she also frequently creates facebook vlogs and has a shop.)

Alice Wong (AAPI disabled woman. wheelchair user. activist, public speaker, author. founder of the Disability Visibility project.)

Quinns_quirks on twitter (AAPI non-binary neurodivergent deaf adoptee. shares their experiences about being a transracial adoptee and its impact on their life, as well as other topics.)

Sukhjeen Kaur (chronically ill activist in South India, founder of a startup called Chronically Brown.)

MANY MORE: Chella Man (deaf creator), Madison Russell (queer wheelchair user), Riah Person (autistic advocate), Victor Pineda (activist and consultant w/ muscular dystrophy), Jules Dameron (deaf queer filmmaker), Javed Abidi (activist for disabled employment), Aaron Rose Philip (disabled model), Haben Girma (deafblind lawyer and author), Molly Burke (blind content creator), Liam O'Dell (deaf journalist)

Final Note: If you consume any of these creators' works and find them enlightening, consider monetarily supporting them if they have direct links!

#disability #disabled community #ref #anon i hope you're still around! sorry for the wait!! #i'm not putting this under a read-more because it needs to be read #i put so much work in this #disclaimer - this list isnt all encompassing there's probably a ton more wonderful creators i couldnt find #also i recognize the prevalence of white people in these spaces - possibly due to visibility & accessibility to resources #(moreso on twitter) #while there's some growth in new creators/advocates i feel like there's still so much to do!

[toa-kohutti]

A Gift The Great Spirit Left Unnamed Chapter 4:

Peaceful

Ohmeni returns to be healed again, but this time under less dire circumstances.

I can’t remember exactly how long it was when I returned to the village, but if I had to give a figure, it would be a month or so. I hadn’t strayed far this time, staying on the Southern Continent, but wrapping the whole way around the coast. It had taken plenty of time, and I had gotten into a few scraps, but I was still much stronger than before the fight with that venomous Rahi that destiny decided for me. I was nursing a wound, having wrapped some poorly-made flax fabric over my right arm, my biceps somewhat torn and armor damaged, but I was able to make it through the week as I completed my route around the island. 

My arm smarted as I walked, enough to bother me, but not making me dull and mindless. I had survived much longer with much worse, and there was a certain pride in that. But I wasn’t looking for pride, I was looking for peace. And so, a wave of relief washed over me as my boots scraped against the dirt and stone as I stepped over the hill and saw the scattering of huts against the coast, a rickety dock with a few boats forming a tiny, makeshift port. I didn’t even know the name of the Koro, but it was a welcome sight nonetheless. 

I nearly skidded down the hill, my ankles pointed sideways as tiny stones scattered underneath my feet. This far, I could see a few Matoran, one of which shot up and put their flattened hands above their eyes to clear the light from their vision, before turning around and talking to their peers. News of my return slowly spread, and a group abandoned their work to gather around and see. I was used to others being surprised when I appeared, usually because of my stature, but it was still a little strange to me to see them all gathered around to discuss me with apparent interest. They didn’t seem like they were gawking at me, more excited. 

When I made it over, they shuffled over as a group to let me through, but I decided not to stride through first. Instead, I figured I ought to greet them. I pulled myself into a squat, still much taller than the Matoran but a little closer to their level. 

“Hello,” I said, warmly, despite my voice being weighed down slightly by pain. “It’s good to see you all.” A hustling whisper spread across the crowd, with one particularly alert and interested Matoran stepping forward to speak. 

“You’re Toa Ohmeni, right?” He said, cocking his head. His black-and-brown armor was a bit of a standout in a village filled with tones of blue, but he seemed to fit right in with them anyway. “What brings you back here? Are you here for the fire tonight?” If it wasn’t for his interested tone, it might come off as rude, but I was sure he meant it in earnest. 

“Well, I came back to see Pysie,” I twisted myself slightly to show them my arm, wrapped in the scratchy flax, hearing one Matoran give a quiet oh of sympathy. “But I’m happy to see all of you.” That caused another small bustle in the crowd, and as they enjoyed that tiny bit of excitement, I tried to count them, landing on about nine, with a few starting to join the fray. 

“Us?” The Onu-Matoran who had spoken first broke the bustle in surprise. “What do you mean?” Pairs of eyes looked at me with wonder, masks of many colors barely hiding the little lights. 

“Well, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have made it out,” I explained. “I owe you all. I’m planning to stay for a time, and pay you back for your village’s kindness.” Now that had excited them. The mumbles and whispers were much louder, anticipation sweeping through the growing crowd. As they talked among themselves, a familiar mask showed up, blue and orange. It was Gava! She hadn’t spotted me yet, it seemed, but when she did, I could see her rushing over in excitement. 

“Ohmeni!” She half-shouted, skidding to a halt in front of me, clearly giddy at the sight of me. She halted suddenly, startled, before dropping to the ground in a gesture of respect. “I-I mean, w-w-we welcome you, Toa!” She scrambled to perform the ceremonial welcome, causing the other Matoran to do similar, but much less coordinated motions. 

“Everyone, everyone!” I said, stifling a laugh at their awkward attempt at reverence. “It’s alright, you don’t need to do all of this. You’re welcoming enough already.” The Matoran lifted their heads slowly, until a familiar thunk sounded. 

“Don’t you go putting ideas in their head, Toa, and especially not today.” Turaga Puigren’s walking stick gave a rhythmic thunk as she walked forward, letting out a scratchy tut-tut. “They need practice, don’t they?” 

“Well, I don’t think so.” I said, rising. “Your village is perfectly welcoming. It’s why I’ve returned, after all.” I pointed out to the blue-and-white elder. It was seen as improper to disagree with a Turaga like that, but I didn’t particularly care. What mattered more to me was letting the Matoran know how much I appreciated them.

In reply, she let out a creaky groan. “No respect for tradition.” She scolded gently before turning towards the gaggle of Matoran. “Let her through to Pysie. And get back to your work.” She tapped her stick on the ground, causing them all to shuffle around. She was harsh, yes, but the village seemed happy despite it, or maybe because of it. Gava was the only one to not shuffle to the side, instead walking towards me and taking my hand as she did before to lead me to the hut. 

We began to walk towards the hut, still with my hand in hers in awkward fashion. I was bent down and half-stumbling as I was led by Gava, who was already unusually short for a Matoran, and myself in turn unusually tall for a Toa. I waited for a moment when most of the village was out of earshot to speak. “You know, you don’t have to do that whole thing for me.” 

“Turaga Puigren is a stickler for old ways,” She whispered, as we reached the hut. “If you didn’t figure that out already.” Her tone seemed a little sour, but I could tell that she appreciated her Turaga from my last visit. She went into the hut first, releasing my hand. Smart, because it would be near impossible for one of us to not tumble if she didn’t. 

When I ducked into the hut that held the village’s healer, I sighed in relief, swinging my sack off my shoulder and over the blade-like armor on my torso as I heard an excited gasp. Sure enough, when I looked, it was an excited Pysie. 

“Ohmeni!” She said, shooting up into an alert kneeling out of crossed legs. “You’re back!” She seemed to be so overjoyed to see me that she didn’t notice any damage to my frame. Luckily, Gava politely cleared her throat, hoping to get Pysie’s attention where I needed it. 

“Sorry, sorry.” She said, a bit sheepishly. “What have you come here for?” She tried to shift back into the personality of a healer, but it wasn’t quite working out for her, the excitement of my arrival clearly bubbling underneath her placid tone. She looked me up and down, before spotting my arm, and reaching for it, taking my hand. 

I felt something jump inside me, like I was startled, but without fear. Her other hand ran up my arm to gently grasp the flax and unwind it, revealing the gash in my arm, half-healed already. A tinge of embarrassment at not being the strong and perfect Toa shot through me, but I didn’t shy away from her touch, fighting the tiniest shame and letting myself be open to her. 

“You set my expectations a bit high last time,” She said, gently tracing the gash in my armor, causing me to shiver a bit. “I can get this fixed up in minutes, and you can get back on the trail today.”

“I’m not leaving today,” I said, with a bit of confidence in my voice despite the embarrassment of the situation. “I’m staying for a day or two. I want to show my gratitude to your village for saving my life this time.” 

“...Really?” She said, looking me right in the eyes with surprise in her gaze. “I thought you were a wandering Toa. Don’t you need to get back to, you know,” she gave me a slight shrug, “ Toa things? Saving Matoran?” 

“Well, normally, yes,” I conceded. “But…” I trailed off before a slightly sly smile formed behind my mask. “Somebody told me that I need time to rest,” I said, taking a slight bit of pleasure in catching her in her own advice when I probably shouldn’t be. “And I trust that certain somebody’s advice after what she’s done for me.” 

“...Oh.” She said, her gaze sinking down and her voice filled with a measure of  embarrassment. “Well…” she searched for words before stammering, struggling to form a coherent sound. I decided to try and help her out of it by changing the subject. 

“Speaking of showing gratitude…” I said, reaching for my bag and opening it. “This is for a certain someone.” I drew a protodermic disk cast in a mostly-opaque white, with etchings of swooped lines and straight ones forming the image of a tube with things traveling through it, the etching filled in with a natural green color, along with the digits 5-7-5 in one of the broad curves. 

Gava perked up, cocking her head to look at the Kanoka I had produced from my bag. “Is that a…” She trailed off, her excitement clearly struggling against the need to be professional. 

“It is,” I said, holding the disk out to her. “A Kanoka from Le-Metru, just for you.” She grabbed it quickly, gently lifting it out of my hand and immediately holding it up to her head. It looked massive next to her, being slightly shorter than the average Matoran. She looked funny, but her earnestness was truly wonderful, and worth the effort I went to in order to bring one to her. 

“Five… that’s Le-Metru, obviously,” she thought aloud, a finger tracing the digits. “Seven… that’s regeneration, and five means it’s pretty powerful…” She was amazed at her gift, and I looked to Pysie, and saw her smile at her apprentice’s excitement. I couldn’t help but grin. 

“All correct.” I said, chuckling a little to Pysie, who returned my laugh. “I had to trade a bunch of scrap to get that. It’s hard to find good Metru Nui disks outside of Ta-Metru, but I managed somehow.” Gava looked up to me with grateful, honest eyes. 

“...Thank you for letting me see this. I’ve always wanted to see a Kanoka in the protodermis.” She nodded solemnly before holding it out to me, expecting me to take it. “Not even the traders have these.” 

“It’s yours, Gava.” I said, to her amazement. “You can keep it. Just be careful. Le-Metru disks-” 

“They fly farther, I know!” She said, giddy at her new gift. “I’ll be careful, I promise!” She said, as Pysie shot me a glance that told me she wouldn’t be that careful. “Can I go outside?” She asked Pysie, to a nod as she hastily left, a pile of tablets falling over in her wake. 

Pysie shook her head as the pile settled, making a quiet, grinding clatter. “That’s very nice of you, but I hope it doesn’t have consequences,” she said. Foolish Matoran were the result of many cautionary tales in Metru Nui, and the ones about the damage a disc could do were unfortunately true. “Especially today, when she has a lot of work to do.” 

“I had to do something to repay you two,” I said. “And besides, I figure that will sate her wanderlust for a time. At least, I hope it will.” 

“I hope so too,” Pysie said wearily, before turning back to me with a renewed attitude of care. “Now, let’s get you fixed up.” She grabbed my hand again, running her hand up my arm before taking a deep breath. “I can fix this without taking your armor off.” A finger of hers began to glow softly along with her mask before she gently pressed it into my flesh, causing me to gasp in pain before the gentle, healing warmth began to soothe me. 

“Ah…” I let out a hissing gasp before I exhaled, remembering to breathe. The feeling of her healing touch was less intense than before, but it felt satisfying. My body took it in like I needed it, and I closed my eyes and let my body embrace it. Her finger gently slid down the gash, slowly mending the muscles underneath her touch. It was only a few minutes, and this time I didn’t pass out. I could appreciate it all, every moment of healing sublimating through me. It was a tiny, wonderful moment of peace. 

When her touch broke, I looked at her, my eyes not fully open. I saw her gaze meet me, filled with… surprise? Her expression was unknown to me, and it took a few seconds to realize that I, too, must be looking at her strangely. I turned away in embarrassment, feeling sparks of shame course through me. I reached for the floor of the hut to ground myself, but before I could, she touched me again - and the shock coursed through her. 

“Eep!” She gasped, recoiling. “I wasn’t expecting that,” She said, a visible shiver running through her. “I almost forgot you were a Toa of Lightning.” 

“I’m sorry.” I said, shamefully. I didn’t want to hurt her, ever. And I did it again, the same way as last time. “I tried to-” 

“It’s okay.” She cut me off, putting both hands on my shoulders. “I’m not mad at you, okay?” She said, tilting her head to the side a little. “Besides, the feeling is… interesting.” She said, in a tone that quietly revealed this was a confession. 

Interesting? How could being zapped be interesting? I held any questions back as I let her touch me, and gently breathed out, trying to release any tension before I spoke. “…Do you have anything I can patch my armor with?” I said, flexing my now-healed arm. 

“I have a Kiril, silly,” she pulled out the mask that I had forgotten about and turned away to change them, “Now come here.” I held my arm out again, sheepishly, as she pressed a glowing hand matching the blue-glowing mask to my armor, causing it to knit itself back into proper form. It took less than three minutes to be done, or at least done to my standards. “Do you want me to fix the rest of this plate?” She said, pointing to a scratch that hadn’t pierced my armor, which the Kiril had started to fix but didn’t finish. 

“...No, that’s too much work for me to put on you.” I said, thankfully. “You’ve done more than enough for me.” I felt bad making her do this work now that it was done, despite the fact that I made my way here for it. “Thank you, Pysie.” I said, my voice carrying a serious weight to it. 

She smiled, putting her hand on my left shoulder and looking into my eyes. “It’s my pleasure.” She meant it, I could tell. But… why? How could doing this work for someone who isn’t even giving her a single widget be a pleasure? But it was for her, somehow. Our gazes locked, staring into each other’s eyes, silently, watching each other, trying to read something out of each other. We held that for a moment, until we heard the sound of the hut’s door opening and Gava walking in. 

“Thank you so much, Ohmeni,” She said, as Pysie and I quickly separated and turned to face her. She was too busy looking at her disc, still pristine, and thankfully, seemingly unthrown. “This is probably one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.” She stared at it as she flopped on the floor, the impact of her hind end on the ground making the pile of tablets shift and become even more messy, paying no mind to it as she did so. Her wonder-induced obliviousness helped save us from the thing that we both were seemingly worried about - being caught doing something strange. As I watched the Matoran marvel at her gift, I started to think to myself. What exactly were we afraid of? And why did we both want to just touch and stare at each other? It wasn’t anything I’d ever heard of in other Matoran or Toa. Pysie seemed to fidget a bit awkwardly as her body language revealed that she was urging me to speak. 

“You’re welcome, Gava,” I said, finally breaking the silence. “I thought that you would like it.” A trite answer, but an honest one. The awkwardness still hung in the air until Pysie spoke, breaking the quiet tension.

“Well, I guess you’re all better now, aren’t you?” Pysie clearly struggled to find a way to broach whatever she had to say, but she turned to me with a bit of excitement in her eyes. “So why don’t we get out of this hut? There’s still some time before the fire!” 

“I, uh, yeah!” I stumbled over my words, trying to match her energy. “I mean, not that this hut is bad or anything, but-”

Pysie started towards the door. “Come on. You need to see some more of Gavo-Koro!” She coaxed me out, still failing to draw Ghavialia’s attention, swinging her arm towards the door. “Besides, you look like you can carry a lot of firewood!” She teased me, successfully drawing out my laughter. 

“Alright, alright,” I giggled, before following her out of the door and into the warm, sunshine-filled coast, happy to go wherever she would lead me. 

#bionicle #bonkle #bonkles #my writing #bionicle fanfic #bionicle fanfiction

[floral-poisons]

FLORAL POISONS MAGAZINE PRESENTS: THE SCARABIA ISSUE FT. AN INTERVIEW WITH KALIM AL-ASIM, CROWN PRINCE OF SCARABIA

Issue #43: The Scarabia Issue

This month, Floral Poisons had the honor of interviewing two of Scarabia’s stars: Crown Prince Kalim Al-Asim and the next Royal Advisor Jamil Viper.

This is truly an honor, Prince, to be in your presence. Your generosity is known throughout the whole continent!

Kalim: Please, please! There is no need to be formal! You may call me Kalim!

But Kalim seems so…informal!

Kalim: Nonsense. We are friends, are we not?

I guess we are. First, I think there’s a question a lot of our readers have been wondering about and that is your family.

Kalim: My family! Oh, I love them all! I love being a big brother the most! I take great pride in taking care of my siblings and making sure they are happy.

And how many siblings do you have?

Kalim: I have six! So if you include me, it means my parents had seven children in total! We’re quite big!

Does it ever get tiring? Watching over your siblings?

Kalim: Never! I enjoy spoiling my siblings and spending time with them. The day where I ascend the throne will be tough because then it means I won’t be able to spend as much time with them as I can now. Although there are times where I do skip out on my duties as prince to be with my siblings or go into town!

Isn’t that troublesome for you though?

Kalim: Not really, no. I can actually finish my work in a reasonable time if I concentrate enough. I just have a problem putting my siblings before everything else! My youngest sister just turned seven too! She’s getting so much older!

I see. It’s very noble that you care for your family.

Kalim: Family is at the center of a lot of cultures and that rings true for us in Scarabia. It is true also for your own culture, yes?

Ah. How could you have guessed? Well, I guess it’s quite obvious.

Kalim: Then it’s easy to see why I care so much about my family. Personally I think the kindness and generosity I learned because of my siblings helps me with the citizens of Scarabia.

Ah, yes. I’ve listened to some people talk about you. They’re excited for the day you ascend the throne, Prince Kalim. Your hospitality and friendliness knows no bounds!

Kalim: Well I firmly believe there shouldn’t be a barrier between me and the rest of the people. They are my people after all. For example, one of my primary goals currently is to remove the patron requirement for academic institutions. I believe everyone is worthy of an education and there are plenty of families who are unable to earn the letter of recommendation from a patron to enter these institutions. Furthermore, I aim to eliminate private institutions because they pose a similar barrier.

I’ve heard about these plans. Does it not concern you that the wealthier class and aristocracy will do anything to prevent such things from happening?

Kalim: It doesn’t. I’m not banning tutors or anything! If they can afford tutors, then they can use it. They may choose to educate their children at home if they wish. But this privatization of education is much more dangerous than it seems. I have traveled outside of Scarabia, of course, and have seen how other countries run with private education. It acts more like a business than what it truly is: a necessity. Everyone deserves education. Pomefiore, Octavinelle, Heartslabyul. They all do the same thing. And as a result, there is a gap in education that matches the gap in wealth. As rulers, I believe we should strive towards providing opportunities for our citizens, not holding them back.

You are very noble, Kalim. I will say that, unfortunately, there are people who don’t feel the same way. I do think you will inspire change as Scarabia is a country of academics and magic, coming in second to Diasomnia. They will follow your example.

Kalim: Wow. I sure hope so! That’s kind of frightening actually, the idea that when I rule, if I rule, the entire continent will have eyes on me.

I’m certain you will perform very well regardless. Shall we talk about lighter matters? There are some questions our readers have sent in specifically for you!

Kalim: Wow! Really? That’s amazing! I would love to hear about it!

Question 1: How does Prince Kalim like his tea?

Kalim: Oh that’s so easy! I like a lot of milk with mine and a dash of sugar! Cardamom, nutmeg, and cinnamon is a must! Sometimes, to spice it up, I’ll replace one of the spices with lemongrass!

Do you like your tea piping hot? I personally do. Sometimes my partner goes out of his way to tell me I’m a masochist with how hot I like my tea and soup.

Kalim: I feel like there’s no other way to drink tea! Though I wouldn’t like mine boiling hot. Perhaps it can best be described as between hot and lukewarm.

Question 2: Who would you consider your best friend?

Kalim: That is such a hard question! I love all my friends! But I guess if I had to choose, it would be Jamil. He’s always there, preventing me from getting in trouble and making sure I don’t get poisoned! He’s truly amazing! And I guess also (Y/N) (L/N) of Wonderland.

You mean the crown royal of the country of Wonderland?

Kalim: Precisely! We actually spent a lot of time together as kids! (Y/N) came to study here in Scarabia! It was such a fun time. I wish I could go back to those days. Arguably I’ve been friends with (Y/N) longer than I have Jamil.

And finally, Question 3: What is your favorite kind of magic to practice?

Kalim: Oh easy! Light magic! Funny enough, Water magic is my specialty but I’m equally as talented when it comes to Light magic!

Well that’s certainly interesting. A lot of readers thought you’d say Water magic because of how talented you are at it.

Kalim: Am I?

Aside from Azul Ashengrotto of Octavinelle, you are probably one of the most talented mages in terms of Water magic. The control, the quantity, the quality. It’s a talent!

Kalim: Well I have spent my whole life attempting to perfect it! So it’s nice to know that people acknowledge my hard work!

I’m afraid that is all for our interview. Thank you so much for joining us Prince Kalim!

Kalim: Of course! My sister absolutely adores Floral Poisons magazine so I had to accept when I received the letter.

Prince Kalim, you gave us a wonderful interview! This issue will certainly sell out across the continent in no time!

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #scarabia #kalim al asim #twst high fantasy au