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#lost prince
damedechance · 1 year
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The Sea Has Many Voices
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The Sea Has Many Voices
Read on AO3 | Pillars, Part 1
Pairing: Gwynriel
Rating: Explicit (for violence, sexual themes, and eventual smut)
Summary: One fateful Night in the Kingdom of Illyria, assassins break into the castle, effectively eliminating the entire monarchy. Gwyneth Berdara, newly appointed knight, is tasked by the General to find the Lost Prince, of whom she's only heard in stories. While Cassian attempts to hold the monarchy together in the power vacuum created by the attack, Gwyn enlists the help of her friend, Nesta Archeron, in finding this Prince, who just might be their only hope. If only Prince Azriel had any interest at all in occupying the throne.
Everyone, say hello to Prince Az! I'm excited to finally post this introduction. I did write a little sneak peak, alternate ending a long time ago: Pillars from the Sea, if you'd like to read more. But for now, here's a snippet of Chapter 1 (see below).
Standing with her hand on the door handle, Gwyn had already come face to face with hesitation and swallowed it whole. Her pulse was still frantic, and her breathing had never quite calmed, but that feeling of imminent doom was beginning to fade, as she turned the handle, and swung the door open.
Moonlight streamed in through the King’s bedroom window in a brilliant white beam that shot across the room and landed perfectly upon his opulent bed. It made the sapphire blue of his blankets impossibly deep–like a crystalline sea. The whites of his sheets made crisp. It revealed the fine grain of the wood of his headboard, and cast the intricate carvings in stark relief. An entire hunting scene, of men with bows and stags with impressive antlers. A fur laid across the foot of the bed, gray and soft, and the gauzy curtains around the bed rustled across it in the errant breeze coming in through the window.
Gwyn would have paused anyway, at that gentle sight alone. But at the center of the bed, laying on his back, was King Armaros.
He wore his night clothes, white and translucent, and decidedly common looking. His long, peppered hair was unbound, in disarray across his pillow, and matted on one side of his head. His face was turned towards her, and his mouth was wide open, slack and unhinged. His eyes bore into her, vacant and already clouded over with something milky white.
On the side of his head, right at the soft spot of his temple, was a gaping hole. Thick, black clots of blood collected around the edge of the wound, with pieces of white poking out. Bone. Someone had hit him with so much force that his skull had caved in, that blood leaked down from the wound in streams towards his eyes, his nose. The injury must have been fresh, because he was still bleeding, soaking through the pillow and blankets.
And because standing over him was a dark figure, a silhouette leaning across his body with a knife held in the air. The moonlight glinted across the steel, caught on the beading blood that must have still been hot. This intruder had plunged the knife into the side of the King’s head, mere moments before she had walked into the room.
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pixiedust111 · 1 year
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Another subtle parallel between them!
And the funny thing is, both of them actually ended up being a princess/prince.
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turkishpashaenjoyer · 2 months
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MY OC’S SERIES P. 3
Xavier Toa
He/him
Aquaponian
Demisexual
Is an angel and air & water bender
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violetrains · 8 months
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Instead of telling men to repress their emotions to appear stronger we should encourage them to sing incredibly dramatic ballads to process their emotions like in fictional movies. Maybe the world would heal faster. And also it would be very funny.
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These are my personal favorites.
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rennelelorren · 3 months
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Hi~ I`m with some Aang and Zu
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oh and somehow this one was funnier like sketch or idk :_b
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gentletrees · 7 months
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Some doodles from different scenes of @ssreeder 's fanfic LIAB! I literally drop everything when you upload QuQ <3 thank you for putting so much effort into this fic, it really shows! I love it!
Really wanted to capture the two most heartbreaking moments of the last few chapters - two very, very different reunions with very different underlying emotions.
And the last one is a doodle after reading the most recent chapter - Zuko wearing his hair in a messy ponytail, dressed in expensive clothing - moments before disaster :))
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dearest-alexander · 10 months
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THERE WAS ONLY ONE CHAIR because presumably, the queen doesn't understand Eric's fascination & servants keep away out of respect for him. So, there's no use having chairs around since nobody hangs out with him here. The implication that he must've felt alone for years until, well, her. They're twin souls. I'm gonna sob in the corner real quick.
AND
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This should not be applauded, but that mofo knelt on the floor afternoon 'till evening so she can sit (or not, she might be sitting on a box here) on the only comfortable seat in his library. like a fucking gentleman. 
A prince on his knees, literally and figuratively. gddamn it, disney.
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lostprincepoetry · 1 year
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in my childhood bedroom
because I have one of those now
exiting a shower where I'm finally
barefoot
no more flip flops
no more communal living
but I've never felt less independent
.
my clock an hour forward still
since no one bothered to change it
"why would i?
it's your space
i never go in there anyway"
.
but it's not my space
it's the ghost of a sixteen year old
who never knew they'd get this far;
their brain stunted by a disease
that shut the world down.
.
living out of bags
for a just under a month
withering away in a shoebox
of what i used to be
who am i?
why am i here?
when can i go home?
.
"but you are home!
you're here! you're back!
isn't that wonderful?"
.
wonderful is the space
where i am not constantly reminded
of my ever changing mind and body
and the consequences
of growing up.
.
useless reunions with faceless masks
of shells of people made of cardboard
and scotch tape pretending i am
their favorite
when we haven't spoken in months.
comments on my nose piercing
and how long my hair has grown
"haha, thanks, it's practically
a mullet now"
but not acknowledging how
I Have Grown
how
I Am Different Now
how
I Will Not Be Treated Like A Nobody Anymore
.
this grown out shave now a mullet
that jumpscares me every time i pass
a mirror, mind reeling
of those kids who shouted
doused in red white and blue
"shut the fuck up, you stupid dyke"
and my mouth Closed.
(they said they'd rape me or shoot me first, if they were going to do it.)
(no one believed me
then or now)
.
my hair hums something like
reclaimation
and something else like a
purple bruise
you can't help but poke
maybe one day I'll get out of this town
and forget all the masks and
bags of clothes
and not living here or living there;
the limbo of it all.
but for today
I force myself to put down my scissors
and kiss my dog goodnight
hoping and praying (dreading)
that tomorrow comes sooner
———
~there's no place like home for the holidays by
lostprincepoetry
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acorndudesworld · 7 months
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My boy Chicken Little brushing his crest alongside other of my favorites Disney protagonists Milo Tatch.
Im so glad to see this little buddy after all this years!
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egophiliac · 8 months
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Of the TWST cards you own, which is your favorite (or favorites of you can't decide)?
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(not that I'm still salty over that, nope, no way)
seriously though, this turned out to be harder to answer than I thought! I did actually manage to pull Stitch Lilia (THANK YOU TWSTFEST for the free bonus keys!) and he's absolutely adorable, I've literally been doing random battles just to watch him surf around and high-five Stitch. a fine addition to the Lilia collection!
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in terms of proudest/most unbelievable achievement, that is 100% when I somehow managed to pull every single Scary Monsters card except one (only missing Rook!). I think I used up all my luck on that one, but at least it was for the Halloween cards! (after Scary Monsters and Glorious Masquerade, I'm so afraid of what this year's Halloween event is going to be, what if they look amazing how am I supposed to save my keys nooooo)
if I REALLY have to pick one, though...there is actually one card that I think I would call my favorite! he just makes me happy every time I look at him. :>
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dailydccomics · 3 months
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the Wonder Girls are not going out that easy Wonder Woman #5 art by Daniel Sampere and Tomeu Morey
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Halloween prompts year 2 day 18
Danny raced through the ghost zone in a panic, how had he missed this? Appearently vlad had released Pariah Dark from his coffin again and got smeared into a paste. The mad king had then went into another dimension, hoping to conquer it and gain more power and skeleton soldiers only to be met in battle by a group of powerful warriors calling themselves the Justice League. Vlad had somehow survived the initial butt kicking and tried to use ghost tech to finally take the king down.
Unfortunately for him, pariah saw him coming in the reflection of a lady warriors blade and killed him.
Somehow the fight dragged on halfway across the US until they got to New Jersey where some billionaire guy was hosting one of his kids 18th birthday bash at his mansion. Pariah appearently crashed threw the roof, a hero dropped the weapon they had taken from Vlad and, in an effort to save his family, Brucie Wayne took the weapon and warned Pariah not to come any closer to his kids.
Pariah mocked him and raised his weapon to a young man with a white streak in his hair they was spayed across the floor in a daze.
Next thing anyone knew the King was dead.
Bruce Wayne had killed the previous king in single combat.
Bruce Wayne was the new Ghost King
Bruce Wayne was sitting on the throne in Pariahs keep looking very unsettled.
Crud. Danny needs to keep this guy and his kids safe doesn't he?
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rainingriversofyou · 2 months
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Jude x Carden - The Cruel Prince - Artist: scribbubbles
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barrowsteeth · 2 months
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It's as if you've become someone else. I don't recognize you.
PRINCE WILHELM'S BIRTHDAY YOUNG ROYALS | 3.05
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acarillustrated · 6 months
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hi my name is august and for the past week or so i have become so consumed by thoughts of avatar the last airbender that it is actually ruining my life and relationships.
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yeah so unfortunately i can only be completely insane about this so i have to stop before it consumes me or at least manage the fixation i have for this early 20s zutara au
+ mai bc its really a shame that they didn't resolve her story outside of her relationship to zuko. so i think she starts fight club. which gradually turns into a gladiatorial ring
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edit: im typing up everything that i wrote in the drawing bc it just occured to me that not only is my handwriting a mess, but it's also cursive
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katara: How do you live in this hot ass country.
zuko: What about that literal glacier you live on, hm? Do you see me complaining?
Image 2
Zuko: my plan right now is to soft launch democracy for the Fire Nation. like, i don't think we can do that now because we're so weak, but 10-20 years down the line?
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Zuko: Honestly, my plan right now is to rule for a couple generations and fix everything that my father and my grandfather did , and then establish a democracy.
Katara: why not a democracy now?
Zuko: because the people of the Fire Nation don't know the truth about their own history. they've been fed propaganda for a hundred years. they need to be able to make informed decisions before i can do that.
Katara: and after that?
Zuko: after that im fucking off to the earth kingdom to take over my uncle's tea house and you will literally never hear from me again
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from left to right "katara" "need to redo the face" "this is chief katara to me. this is her at around 19/20 to me" "Anime katara. this anime shit is easy" "fire nation katara. putting her at about 14 y/o" "this is a screencap redraw"
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me: hello greenpeace
katara: after my mother died i had a lot of unchecked rage for the world, so my dad signed me up for tai chi classes to, like, calm me down but i ended up still angry but also really good at tai chi
katara: i feel like im doing well all things considered
me: katara is so special to me. she is a fully realized creation to me. so casual. so passionate about the world. one thing about her is that she is an activist. she has a strong sense of justice. fuck. the train jumped lol
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mai: zuko, im starting a gladitorial ring and i don't know the legality of it so if you could just change the laws as i go that'd be great
zuko: yeah sure that sounds great
zuko, but smaller: wait what.
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mai: REF, ARE YOU BLIND?! WHAT KIND OF CALL IS THAT!
background guy: woah holy shit
captioned: "Mai starts a gladiatorial fight club
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doormatty3 · 4 months
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Ocean Eyes: Chapter 1 (Orm Marius x Reader)
Masterlist Ao3
Ocean Eyes Masterlink
Summary:
[Orm Marius x Female Reader] [Orm Marius x You]
The ocean has always fascinated you - the ebb and flow of its water, the marine life in the sea and the wild and untamed beauty it exudes. Your attempts to explain this fascination have always fallen short. But when you meet Orm at the seaside one rainy day you find, that he just understands.  You offer to show him around since he is not from the city. And you are intrigued by his rather strange quirks and his regal demeanour.  After all, how could you not? When his eyes mirror the ocean itself, deep and incredibly blue. OR: You impress Orm with the surface world and he impresses you with his Atlantean cock
Wordcount: 4134
A/N: This is the first chapter for a (probably) 4-5 chapter fic
Also: Our boy Orm deserves some love so this happened.
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Normally, you actually like water; after all, it’s an integral part of your life as a marine biologist. 
You’ve spent countless hours immersed in the briny depths, studying the mysteries that lie beneath the surface. In the embrace of the watery depths, you’ve unravelled the secrets of hidden ecosystems, marvelled at the kaleidoscope of marine life, and witnessed the symbiotic dance between predator and prey. The ebb and flow of tides, the rhythmic movement of ocean waves – these are the elements that typically elicit admiration and wonder from you. 
However, this affection for water does not extend to rain, especially when it chooses to make an unannounced entrance when you’re out for a walk along the seaside.
As the heavens open up unexpectedly, you find yourself caught off guard, the rhythmic pitter-patter of raindrops on the sand disrupts the usual symphony of your thoughts. A muttered curse slips through your lips, a reflexive response to the inconvenience of precipitation, and you hastily reach for your umbrella.
The once-clear sky, a former blue sphere, now cloaks itself in shades of grey, as you struggle with the umbrella, desperately attempting to shield yourself from the sudden downpour threatening to soak you through.
“Thank god,” you mutter under your breath when you finally manage to open the umbrella before being drenched. 
As you trudge along the wet sands, your now open umbrella in hand, the lack of shelter becomes painfully apparent. The vast openness of the seaside, which had promised freedom and expansiveness, now offers no refuge from the relentless rain. 
The sea, once a source of inspiration, now seems indifferent to your plight, its waves crashing rhythmically as if mocking the irony of a marine biologist seeking escape from the rain. 
Amidst the relentless downpour, your attention is drawn to a solitary figure at the edge of the beach. Despite the bad weather and the onslaught of rain, the man remains unwavering.
His gaze is steadfastly directed towards the open expanse of the ocean. 
Even from afar you can tell that he’s completely soaked, his blonde hair clings stubbornly to his head, and his clothes adhere to his form like a second skin.
Intrigued by the enigmatic scene, you find yourself pausing in your own battle against the weather, momentarily captivated by the man’s unwavering focus. The rhythmic cadence of the rain seems to fade into the background as you observe the drenched stranger.
Curiosity propels you towards him, each step accompanied by the squelching sound of wet sand beneath your shoes.
Instinctively, you move closer to the man on the edge of the beach, extending the canopy of your umbrella to encompass both of you.
He turns around, surprise evident in his expression, as if awakening from a deep reverie. It becomes clear that your approach went unnoticed, his focus entirely absorbed by the vastness of the open ocean. The sudden shelter you provide seems to bring him back to the present moment.
As your gaze flickers over him, you find yourself inadvertently appreciating the details of his appearance. His smooth skin contrasts with a well-groomed stubble, and his piercing blue eyes hold a hint of depth, perhaps mirroring the expanse of the sea he was lost in moments ago. Expressive eyebrows, a straight nose, and pink lips contribute to an overall attractiveness that stands out even amidst the dampness and the downpour - perhaps the rain even intensified this as your eyes follow the path of a raindrop as it traverses his forehead and nose, eventually dripping from the tip.
Despite the adverse weather, it’s evident that he takes care of himself. The rain reveals the contours of a muscular physique beneath his soaked clothes. A defined chest, broad shoulders, and sculpted arms speak of a physicality that has weathered more than just the current storm.
A quiet “thank you” escapes his lips, accompanied by the subtle curve of a smile that plays on them. As he holds your gaze, his blue eyes reveal more than words convey. There’s an intensity in his look, a depth that suggests the weight of unspoken thoughts resting behind those expressive eyes.
As he breaks the gaze and turns back to the open sea, his presence lingers, all-consuming, and you find yourself unable to simply walk away. Instead, you remain rooted in your spot, holding the umbrella over both of you.
The rhythmic rise and fall of the waves draws your attention, each wave pooling onto the smooth surface of the sand before dispersing like foam. The ocean, in its relentless dance, momentarily recalls its waters, leaving behind a glistening trail of wet sand in its wake.
As you stand there, sheltered under the umbrella, the tableau before you becomes a canvas of contrasts – the vast expanse of the open sea, the ephemeral beauty of the waves, and the tangible presence of the stranger beside you. The sound of raindrops on the umbrella becomes a quiet rhythm, harmonizing with the natural symphony of the seaside.
It really has been ages since you allowed yourself to simply take in the beauty of the ocean and breathe. The thoughts of work, responsibilities, and the hustle of daily life seem to dissolve, rendered insignificant in the face of the vast, timeless expanse of the open sea.
Under the shared umbrella, the ceaseless rhythm of the waves becomes a soothing lullaby, and the salty tang of the sea air fills your lungs with a refreshing breath. The worries and stresses that usually occupy your mind are momentarily eclipsed by the sheer tranquillity of the moment.
With each inhale, you absorb the invigorating sea breeze, and with each exhale, you release any lingering tension. The rain, which was once an inconvenience, now feels like a gentle cleansing, washing away the mental clutter that often accompanies the demands of everyday life.
Normally, your beach walks are just a way to clear your head with familiar surroundings but nothing more than that. So you sift through your thoughts and you ponder the possibility of having seen the man before but his regal demeanour and striking looks leave no trace in your recollections.
Breaking the comfortable silence, you voice your curiosity, “I haven’t seen you here before…” He turns to you, fixing his intense gaze on your face, awaiting your words. “Are you from here?” you inquire.
A subtle smile graces his lips, a fleeting acknowledgement of your question. His hand glides over his chin, tracing the stubble that accentuates his features. Your gaze follows the motion, noting the details - the thickness of his hands, the length of his fingers, and the neatly trimmed nails.
“No,” he begins, and as if sensing your curiosity, he offers a bit more insight, “I’m from far away. I’m… just passing through.”
Despite the cryptic nature of his words, you find yourself captivated by the mysterious charm he exudes. His subtlety and intensity draw you in, leaving you with a desire to unravel the layers behind those enigmatic blue eyes.
“Well then, it’s nice to meet you!” you express with a genuine smile. Taking the initiative, you extend a hand in introduction.
In response to your greeting, he graces you with a full-blown, toothy smile that illuminates his face. His eyes sparkle, reminiscent of sunlight dancing on water, and the skin around his eyes crinkles with the warmth of the expression.
You… want to see that more often, you think. You’d like to be the reason for that infectious smile, to be the reason behind the sparkle in his eyes, and to cast away the haunted look that seems to linger within their depths.
“Happy to make your acquaintance,” he responds, his hand enveloping yours with a firm grasp. As his long fingers curl around yours, a subtle current of electricity prickles at the point of contact, and you find yourself missing his touch when he drops your hand.
“I’m Orm,” he introduces himself.
“Orm,” you test the pronunciation of his name, and you catch the flicker of his eyes as they briefly lower to your lips.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that name,” you remark, your curiosity piqued. 
In response, he shrugs, a somewhat sheepish expression crossing his features. “As I said, I am not from here,” he adds.
“If you ever need a tour guide, let me know,” you offer, extending a friendly invitation. His eyebrows raise in response, and you catch a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “I know a few nice places… some even provide a better view of the ocean.”
As a gust of wind swirls around you, the dampness of your clothes coupled with the cold air sends a shiver down your spine, and goosebumps emerge on your skin. The sudden chill causes you to freeze, the contrast between the warmth of the moment shared under the umbrella and the elements outside becoming palpable.
In contrast, you observe Orm, still drenched but seemingly unaffected by the cold.
The offer to be his tour guide hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, a subtle fear creeps in. Was it too forward? Does he wish to cut the conversation short, politely concealing any desire to decline?
A sense of relief washes over you as Orm’s response breaks the brief tension. 
“That would be nice,” he says, his eyes straying back to the expanse of the ocean as if lost in thought.
The soft pitter-patter of the rain envelops you both in a cocoon, creating a serene backdrop to the moment. Despite the logical inclination to seek shelter and escape the rain, something within you resists the notion of leaving. A peculiar reluctance binds you to the spot as if an invisible force tethers you to Orm’s calming presence.
Standing beside him, you feel a sense of grounding and tranquillity it’s a sensation that you haven’t experienced before - well, if you’re honest with yourself, you have felt it before. It’s the same feeling you get near or in the ocean.
Maybe it’s his eyes. His deep, blue eyes seem to hold all the mysteries of the sea, mirroring the tranquil rhythm of the rain and the timeless expanse of the ocean.
____
A few days later you see him again and you find yourself back at the same spot.
Today, the weather is vastly different - there’s no rain, and the sun graces the scene with its warm glow.
As you approach the familiar location, the memories of the previous meeting flicker in your mind. You wonder how Orm will look in the bright sunlight - he had already been a vision when completely drenched.
When he comes into view, you find that he’s even more striking than before, 
He is clad in a basic black shirt and matching slacks, the fabric sits snugly on his broad frame, accentuating the contours of his muscular body. The sunlight enhances the contrast, casting a play of shadows that dance along the lines of his thick body.
The blonde hair, now dry and therefore lighter in the sun, is neatly combed back, reflecting the sunlight like strands of golden thread, creating an almost ethereal aura around him.
His gaze is fixed on the sea again. With his head held high and arms folded behind his back, there’s a regal air about him.
“Orm! Hey,” you greet him, genuine warmth in your voice as you approach, happy to see him again. As he turns around to face you, there’s a radiant smile on his lips.
The sunlight adds a gleam to his features as he returns your greeting.
“So, what do you want to see?” you ask Orm, eager to tailor the experience to his preferences. “Have anything in mind?”
He responds with a gracious simplicity, “No, I leave that in your capable hands.”
You can’t help but feel a subtle warmth creeping across your cheeks because he really is rather sweet and charming.
So you clear your throat before speaking, “I promised you some nice places to see the ocean, so let’s do that.”
With a subtle gesture, you signal it’s time to leave, and you start walking with Orm following closely behind. As you set the pace, you observe him adjusting his strides to match yours, a small yet thoughtful gesture that makes your heart beat faster. It’s rare that a guy just does that without having to be asked.
He slips his hands into his pockets, seemingly unsure of what to do with them.
“We’re gonna have to drive a bit,” you mention, looking up at Orm, and tugging your lip between your teeth, “Is that fine for you?”
You gesture towards your small blue car and watch Orm’s gaze as his eyes shift from you to the car before nodding slowly, “Sure.”
As you lead the way, Orm walks behind you, and you notice a hesitation in his movements when you reach the car. He doesn’t do anything until you open your door, watching your movements. To you, he looks a bit lost, as if he’s unsure about how to open the door. But you disregard that thought, it is probably just your mind playing tricks.
As you both get into the car, the doors closing with a reassuring thud, you settle into your respective seats.
“If you need more leg space, feel free to adjust the seat,” you offer, considering he is taller than you.
 He meets your gaze with those striking blue eyes before nodding, “Sure, but I’ll be fine.”
Orm’s gaze wanders around your car, and you notice his eyes catching on the seashell chain dangling from the rearview mirror. His hand raises, and his fingers delicately trace over the hard exteriors of the shells. The gesture carries a certain intimacy as if he’s unravelling the stories embedded in each shell.
The image in your mind briefly diverges, envisioning those deliberate touches on your skin with the same care and intensity. You swallow dryly as you try to remember why you’re here - to show him some spots, to be his friend, not to fuck him.
As you start the car, the engine humming to life, you catch what seems like a subtle jump in the corner of your eyes from Orm. However, you dismiss it, attributing it to a trick of the mind or perhaps a momentary startle that often accompanies the sudden sounds of a car coming to life.
“Do you mind fastening your seatbelt?” you ask, your concern for safety evident in the request. Sure, he’s muscular and fit but in case of an accident that won’t help him much sadly.
Orm nods in acknowledgement, and his eyes meet yours as you secure your seatbelt before mirroring the motion.
He is rather strange.
_____
The drive unfolds in a quiet contentment, accompanied by the soft murmur of the radio playing music at a low volume. Orm, for the most part, gazes out of the window, seemingly lost in thought or captivated by the passing scenery. As the sunlight plays on his face, casting gentle shadows, you find yourself fascinated by the play of light, accentuating his features.
At some point you start humming, caught in the melody of a song and even sing quietly along. After a few beats you notice that Orm’s gaze is fixed on you now, an intensive look in his blue eyes as he studies you with a depth that makes you feel vulnerable.
As you become aware of it, a blush creeps across your cheeks. To your surprise, Orm responds with one of those sweet smiles before breaking eye contact and redirecting his attention to the scenery outside the window again.
“We’re here,” you announce to Orm, bringing the car to a stop. The engine’s hum fades as you turn it off, and you both step out.
You brought him to a medium-high cliff site.
The cliff, standing just a few feet above the ocean, is characterised by weathered stones, carved over time by the relentless touch of the water. It’s not a typical beach setting, but the raw beauty of the scene never fails to captivate you.
Below, the waves crash with a rhythmic symphony, their energy echoing against the stone walls in a natural percussion. Each surge sends sprays of seawater into the air, catching the sunlight like a cascade of liquid diamonds before dissipating into the sea breeze.
The sun, hanging high in the sky, bathes the entire scene in a warm, golden glow. It casts its warm embrace upon the waves, creating a dazzling display as the light interplays with the water that reflects the brilliance of the sun. The golden rays catch in the frothy crests of the wave.
A small path, worn by time and exploration, winds its way down the cliffside side presumably leading to a beach down below.
In the stillness of this remote haven, away from the clamour of the city and the watchful eyes of the world, the air carries a purity that is both invigorating and calming. As you close your eyes and inhale deeply, the crisp, clean air fills your lungs, creating a sense of tranquillity that is uniquely serene.
As you stand there a realization dawns upon you - you’ve never brought someone here before. Yet, as you stand there with Orm, the decision to share this sacred place with him feels instinctive, as if his presence harmonizes with the essence of the surroundings.
Deep within your consciousness, a recognition stirs, an understanding that his eyes mirror the tranquil beauty of this place. There’s an unspoken connection between him and the sea, a sentiment that resonates with the rugged cliffs, crashing waves, and untamed nature surrounding you both. It’s as if his very presence is an extension of the landscape - a kindred spirit to the ocean.
“Beautiful,” Orm’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie, prompting you to turn around and face him, finding that his gaze is fixed on you, not on the breathtaking scenery that surrounds you.
“Yeah, I come here to think - I just feel like I can breathe here,” you share, offering a glimpse into the personal significance this place holds for you. 
As you speak, you notice that Orm’s eyes remain glued to your form, not wandering to the sea. His intense gaze seems to linger on you as if captivated by something beyond the natural beauty of the landscape. You feel your heartbeat in your whole body and electricity coursing through your skin.
Orm steps closer his intense blue eyes never leaving yours. With a gentle touch, he lifts a wayward lock of hair that has fallen in front of your face and tucks it behind your ear.
The gesture is tender, a subtle connection that transcends words. The proximity and the soft touch create a moment suspended in time, the crashing waves and the untouched beauty of the surroundings fading into the background. 
Your breath catches in your throat, momentarily you forget to breathe as you feel his warm skin on your face.
You can’t help but notice the vibrant glow in Orm’s eyes. The sunlight catches in the deep blue hues, and they seem to come alive with a vivid intensity. His gaze, vibrant and open, mirrors the brilliance of the sun that bathes the surroundings.
At that moment, his eyes are a reflection of the untamed beauty of the sea, filled with depths and mysteries that seem to echo the vastness of the ocean. 
Orm’s proximity brings with it an enveloping scent that fills the air around you. It’s a fragrance that captures the essence of the sea, a symphony of the breeze, sea salt, and the unmistakable aroma of the beach. 
As you breathe in, the familiar notes of the sea transport you to the shoreline, the rhythmic sounds of the waves echoing in your mind. 
It is as if he’s water itself.
In the silence, with Orm’s hand gently cradling the side of your face, you notice the subtle movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. In a moment of courage, you decide to close the distance.
With a small, bold step on your toes, you reach for his lips, closing the gap between you and Orm. The kiss is a gentle meeting, a fusion of shared connection and unspoken emotions. The crashing waves and the sea breeze seem to hold their breath as if nature itself is pausing to witness this intimate exchange beneath the warm glow of the sun.
Orm’s response is immediate and enveloping. Instead of pulling back, he wraps his strong arms around you, pulling you even closer against his frame. The kiss deepens a mutual exchange that goes beyond words. The embrace is strong and intimate as if the crashing waves below have found their echo in the connection between you and Orm.
Time seems to slow, and the kiss becomes a shared moment suspended in the tapestry of the cliffside sanctuary. The scent of the sea, the warmth of the sunlight, and the touch of his lips create a harmonious symphony, blending with the timeless rhythm of the waves below. 
You feel Orm’s stubble against your skin. The subtle scratch of his facial hair becomes a grounding force, connecting you to the present moment, reminding you that this is happening.
It is as if your entire being comes alive.
Every touch, every nuance of the kiss, is a vibrant testament to the living, breathing connection between you and Orm. 
Breathless, you break the kiss, and as you look at Orm, he appears positively ravishing. The sea breeze plays with his tousled hair, and the sunlight casts a golden glow upon his features.
His eyes reflect a sense of wonder as if the shared moment was something extraordinary and beyond expectation. And then, with a captivating smile, he pulls back slightly, tracing his tongue over his bottom lip, savouring the taste of the kiss.
“That was unexpected,” Orm says, his intense gaze unwavering as he keeps his eyes firmly on you.
“Unwelcome?” you question,  searching for reassurance.
“No, I didn’t say that. It was most welcome,” he assures you with a warm smile, his eyes reflecting a genuine appreciation for the shared moment.
“It’s different from what I thought or expected,” Orm mumbles quietly, his expression turning thoughtful, the words almost lost in the hushed tone.
“What?” you ask, a hint of confusion in your voice, urging him to repeat himself since you didn’t quite catch what he was saying.
“Oh, nothing,” Orm dismisses with a subtle smile, as if choosing to keep certain thoughts close to himself and not to elaborate further. 
You lose your train of thought as soon as Orm reaches for your hand, giving it a subtle, reassuring squeeze, telling you without words that you shouldn’t worry about it.
Orm gently releases your hand, his attention drawn to the scenic surroundings. Taking a few steps forward, he moves closer to the edge of the cliff, where he peers down at the undulating water below. 
In the soft glow of the sunlight, his features come alive, it paints him with warmth, casting a radiant glow that enhances every detail. The light highlights the slight tousle of his hair as the wind delicately weaves through it.
Orm turns to you again, his eyes reflecting a deep appreciation for the surroundings. “I can understand why you come to this place,” he says, his voice carrying a sincere tone. “It really is something special.“
You nod in agreement and offer a warm smile. “Are you hungry?” you ask because the rumble in your own stomach suggests it’s time for a meal. Orm seems to ponder for a moment, considering the idea, and then he agrees with a subtle nod.
Curiosity piqued, you ask, “What do you feel like eating?”
His response is straightforward. “I’d like a burger with fries and a Guinness.”
A grin spreads across your face as you reply, “I know a spot that serves good burgers. I’m not too sure about the Guinness though - but I’m sure you’ll find something.”
Orm nods in satisfaction and you suggest getting back to the car.
“Lead the way, oh guide of tours,” Orm says, his choice of words eliciting a snort from you at the quirky phrasing.
As you both settle into the car, you take the driver’s seat and start the engine. 
Without many words, Orm carefully places a hand on your thigh. 
Initially, it’s just the featherlight touch of his fingertips, but when he senses your ease, he gently lays his hand down, spreading his fingers to cover as much space as possible.
The warmth of his touch seeps through the fabric of your jeans, a searing heat that radiates from your leg, enveloping your entire body. Turning your head towards him, you find his gaze fixed on you and in response, you offer a warm smile.
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