#a nest of spies

[artifacts-and-arthropods]

Strange Bedfellows: these unprecedented photos show a leafcutter bee sharing its nest with a wolfspider

I stumbled across these photos while I was looking for information about leafcutter bees, and I just wanted to share them, because they're really remarkable. The images were captured by an amateur photographer named Laurence Sanders, and they depict an unprecedented scene that has garnered the attention of both entomologists and arachnologists.

The photos show a leafcutter bee and a wolfspider living in the same burrow.

The leafcutter bee (Megachile macularis) can be seen fetching freshly-cut leaves, which she'll use to line the inner walls of her nest, while the wolfspider sits at the entryway to the burrow; as the bee approaches, the wolfspider moves aside, allowing her to enter the nest, and then she simply watches as the leaf is positioned along the inner wall.

Once the leaf is in position, the bee and the spider seem to inspect the nest together, sitting side-by-side in the entryway. The leafcutter bee seems strangely at ease in the presence of the wolfspider, which is normally a voracious predator, and the wolfspider seems equally unfazed by the fact that it shares its burrow with an enormous stinging insect.

The man who took these photographs discovered the peculiar scene by accident, and he then captured a series of images over the course of about two days (these are just a few of the photos that were taken). During that two-day period, the bee was seen entering the nest with bits of foliage dozens of times, gradually constructing the walls and brood chambers of its nest, and the spider was clearly occupying the same burrow, but they did not exhibit any signs of aggression toward one another.

The photos have been examined by various entomologists and arachnologists, and those experts seem ubiquitously surprised by the behavior that these images depict. The curator of entomology at Victoria Museum, Dr. Ken Walker, noted that this may be the very first time that this behavior has ever been documented, while Dr. Robert Raven, an arachnid expert at the Queensland Museum, described it as a "bizarre" situation.

This arrangement is completely unheard of, and the photos are truly remarkable.

Sources & More Info:

Brisbane Times: The Odd Couple: keen eye spies bee and spider bedfellows in 'world-first'

iNaturalist: Megachile macularis

[barrymccaulkinem]

if theres one thing the average tf2 player of today needs to improve on its protecting your medic #shitmedicmainssay

[shroomanddoom]

Today I Learned

Alright I learned 2 fairly dumb things on stream today. 1)I need to start having a "pre-stream checklist" which includes the obvious stuff of making sure all my stream info is updated and the sound balances work. This ALSO will include things like "Fucking Eat Something", "Fucking Drink some Water and have it on stand by", "make sure the cat is satisfied so he doesn't try to knock over your fucking mic" 2)Engies rely very heavily on the voice lines to know when spies are fucking with their shit, so this leads to some very funny moments when dealing with 3 turtled engies on a CP map last point with just your revolver.

[azsazz]

Growing Pains

Daddy!Azriel x Mommy!Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Will we ever get more info of how Az was during readers pregnancy with each baby(I really want to see his reaction when he found out you were having a girl for the first time),Just asking ;)))))

AKA: Snippets of Azriel's family growing.

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 3117

_________________________________________

Wren:

“Azriel, I’m fine,” you insist, though your back aches as you try to pick up the kitchen towel that had accidentally fallen to the ground. You have no idea how you’re going to pick it up. You can’t bend over like you used to, not with your full, round belly in the way. “I still have an entire month, and then some.”

Rhys has decided to send your mate on a mission. He’d argued vehemently, asking the High Lord to send one of his spies instead, but Rhys had been adamant Azriel was the one to go. Why, you’re not sure. Azriel hasn’t divulged that information, not wanting to worry you.

What he doesn’t know is that it only worries you more.

“Love, you can’t even pick up the towel,” he argues, sliding around the counter to pluck it from the ground. You sigh, setting your hip on the counter, but it does little to ease your muscles. What you really want to do is sit down and not get up until the babe arrives.

“I don’t need to pick it up,” you argue. “I was just doing it to be nice since I know how tidy you like the house.”

Azriel raises a brow. “So you didn’t need it for anything?”

“No.”

“And what would you have done with it if I weren’t here?” he teases. “Left it on the floor?”

“Maybe,” you shrug. “I could’ve just gotten a new one from the linen closet.”

“That,” Azriel steps in front of you, swooping down to peck a soft kiss to your lips. You melt into him immediately, falling into his warm embrace. His hands come to the base of your spine to knead at the tight muscles there and you sigh in pleasure. Those shadows must have told him about your tender back. They can be useful, sometimes. “Sounds like it would’ve been a good idea.”

You hum in response, lost to your mate’s touch. He’s a godsend, this one. The cauldron picked perfectly. “I still don’t need a babysitter.”

“I know,” Azriel soothes. “It will make me feel better about leaving you though, love. I don’t want to worry about you while I’m gone.”

You don’t want that, either. Don’t want him distracted while he’s on a mission.

“Okay,” you give in when he kneads against a particularly tight knot in your spine. Gods, those hands…you could take him right to bed, maybe even convince your mate to give you a full body massage instead. Yes, that would be nice. “Cassian can stay.”

You refuse to move to the House of Wind. You’d rather be comfortable in your own home, especially since you’ve just begun nesting. Hence, the towel on the floor. Weirdly enough, you wanted that very piece for part of your nest because of all of the times you’ve seen it in Azriel’s hands, twisting it aimlessly between his fingers while conversing while he cooks, thrown over his shoulder while he slices and dices fruits and vegetables. Strange, but you haven’t stopped thinking about it since you felt the urge to collect objects from around your home to comfort yourself with.

So, if Azriel wants you to have a babysitter while he’s gone, the babysitter can join you here.

“Cassian’s going to have the best time rubbing my feet and making me breakfast,” you smile, thinking of all of the things you know you can get your mates best friend to do for you. You know he’ll do it without compliant, because he’s secretly trying to get you to name your first born after him.

Not happening.

“Give him hell, love.”

Basil:

“He wants cake, the baby wants cake,” you defend, stuffing another bite of cake into your mouth. “The baby wants the cake.”

Azriel huffs a laugh, more than amused at your sweet tooth during your second pregnancy. It’s been difficult to get you to eat anything that isn’t coated in chocolate or pumped full of sugar.

Wren, nearing a year old, giggles in his father’s lap. He reaches his hand across the table to your plate, eager to share in the sugary goodness. You lick the icing from your lips and scoot your plate closer to his grabby hands, more than happy to share your treat with your son.

You’re surprised your mate, who has an insane sweet tooth of his own, isn’t getting in on this cake. It’s delicious, the icing creamy and fluffy. The cake is moist, and the moan you let out when you bit into it was almost one you’d be embarrassed about, if you were paying attention to anything other than the dessert.

He’s been letting you eat your fill before even attempting a bite, more so because only a few weeks ago, he’d eaten the last macron, the one you’d been saving for a midnight snack. This babe did not want you to sleep, kicking and squirming inside of you nonstop, more than eager to meet the world. You’d burst into a fit of tears when you noticed your treat was gone, and couldn’t reign in your emotions until Azriel had come home with more than half of the pastries in the case from your favorite shop. Elain even threw in some of her freshly baked pastries after hearing what happened, and you almost lost yourself to another fit of tears at how nice that was of her.

“We’re supposed to be choosing a cake for Wren’s first birthday,” Azriel reminds you gently. Then, teasingly, he says, “Have you even actually tasted the cake with how quickly you’re eating, love?”

You peg him with a look, swallowing down the bite of cake in your mouth. He’s right, this is about Wren, not the baby inside of you who only seems to wiggle around more with a sugar high.

It’s difficult to place the fork down in front of you, but somehow, you manage. You turn toward your son, who hasn’t seemed to notice the way you’d been sampling all of the cakes in front of you. By sampling, you mean inhaling. You’d been inhaling the cake samples in front of you. All seven flavors.  

“Wrenny,” you ask the boy currently mashing a bite of cake onto a napkin. He’s enthralled in the texture, and doesn’t even notice your grimace at the ruined treat.

Azriel slips his hand into yours in comfort.

“What kind of cake do you want for your birthday, baby?” You ask, grabbing a fresh napkin to help him clean up. He protests with a shout, squirming on his father’s lap. Azriel tries his best to soothe the boy, but you’ve disturbed his playtime, and you’re going to pay.

“Come on, buddy,” Azriel smooths the furrow between Wren’s brows. You sit back in your seat, smoothing your hands across your stomach when your son kicks close to your bladder. It’s only a matter of time before he hits his mark, and then your day out at the Rainbow with your mate and son will be over. “Which one do you like best?”

Wren stares at the cakes. Some more gone than others. He reaches for a red cake that’s almost entirely full. You liked that one, but it wasn’t better than the chocolate slice with chocolate frosting. That one only has a small bite left.

Your son grabs a handful of the cake and flings his arms around in excitement. You plant a hand over your mouth as the cake goes flying, only to land in Azriel’s hair. Your shoulders shake with laugher, tears welling in your eyes at the look on your mates face.

Azriel’s grin is blinding. He laughs freely, something he might not have been comfortable doing in public years ago. This, this is all he’s ever wanted. You. A family. A life.

You help your mate rid the cake form his dark locks as much as you can. Frosting sticks to the strands, pulling them this way and that. You swipe at a glob of icing that made its way above his lip, and he stares at you with simmering eyes. The kind of eyes that got you into this situation in the first place. He’s going to need a shower when he gets home, and, if you can put Wren down for a nap, maybe you can join him, too.

When you’ve successfully cleaned as much of Azriel as you can, he plops your son down into your lap and shoves the pile of napkins closer to you before standing.

“Where are you going?” you ask as Wren reaches out for his father. You snag a napkin and his chubby arm, beginning to clean him up.

“I’m going to tip the staff for the mess we made,” he says easily. His eyes are sparkling with amusement and something more, something you can’t wait to get home to. “And I’m going to buy a chocolate cake to bring home with us, since you liked it so much.” He nods to the nearly gone slice on the table, and your heart swells in your chest. You love him so, so much.

Zuzu:

“It’s a girl?” he whispers, voice raw with emotion. Tears flood your eyes at the utter awe in your mate’s eyes. Of course, she has her father wrapped around her finger already.

Azriel places his hands across your stomach. He’s kneeling in front of you, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so vulnerable, not even when he admitted he loved you for the first time, nor when you gave birth to your first and second child. But this little girl growing inside of you, she’s unlocked something special inside of Azriel, and you know that in this moment, that she’s going to have the most loving, protective father there is. And you’re sure her brothers won’t be far behind with that mentality.

She’s the first female born into one of the Inner Circle’s families. Four boys, but not a single girl. And now, everything has changed. You know she is going to be surrounded by so much love, she’s going to be so spoiled. You’ve had conversations with Feyre and Nesta, Elain too, about how cute the female toys and clothing were in the shops lining the Sidra. They all begged you to have a girl when you announced your third pregnancy, placing bets with their mates on whether or not you’d bring a little girl into the family, and their pleading has all paid off.

You can’t wait to tell them.

Azriel kisses across your stomach. You thread your fingers through his hair, allowing him this time with his daughter. It’s sweet, more than, to see him like this. He’s so in love with her already, you can see it in the way his wings wiggle with excitement, the way his thumbs stroke the soft skin where his daughter is growing inside of you.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispers, finally raising his gaze to look at you. He doesn’t move away, instead resting his chin on your stomach. “We’re having a girl.”

You can’t help your smile, a tear escaping your eye. He’s wanted a daughter for just as long as you have, and you promised not to stop having children until you had a girl, but soon, with two boys and one girl, you don’t think you’ll stop until this little one has a sister to play with as well.

You can see the same sentiment in your mates eyes.

“We’re having a girl,” you agree, lifting his chin so you can kiss your mate.

Jax:

“Azriel,” you squeeze your eyes shut through the uncomfortableness of a contraction. Your mate’s hand is strong on your lower back, his other arm gripped tightly in your grasp. “I love you, but are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

“Easy,” Azriel replies gently. His touch is soft but firm as he helps you to your bed. It’s set up with all of the essentials for giving birth, and with this being your fourth child, you’re more than prepared. The little one has been a fairly easy pregnancy, as if each moment spent in your womb was better than the last. He wasn’t eager to meet the world like his older brother, Baz, who kicked you relentlessly for nine months straight. It was almost as if the babe inside of you enjoyed the comfort you provided, but his father and siblings are more than excited to meet the new member of the family.

Your water broke this morning over breakfast with your family. Baz had burst into a fit of giggles over his waffles, pointing and shouting about how you’d peed your pants. Wren, your oldest, perked with excitement, knowing exactly what that meant. He’s slipped from his chair, offering you a tight hug before scampering to his room with his little brother in tow, talking all about how they were going to get to see their cousins while you had another baby.

Zuzu, just one, was covered in whipped cream, giggling and gurgling and making a mess with the sweet cream. You had torn Azriel’s attention from where he bopped a bit of cream onto her nose, and, after a quick once-over, worry lacing his hazel eyes, his face melted into something sweet when he caught your smile, the happy tears in your eyes.

Your son couldn’t choose a more perfect day to enter the world.

“What do you mean?” Azriel asks, pulling back the covers. He’d be latched to your side until the babe entered the world, whenever that may be. Could be nearly an entire day, like Wren, or mere hours, like Baz and Zuzu.

“You’re talking about letting the male who gifted Baz a real blade for Starfall when he was only 3, watch our boys for the night.” You had agreed to the plan at first because you didn’t think Cassian was all that serious about it, but now that it’s really happening, you can’t help but worry.

“Cassian wants this more than anything, love,” Az replies, helping organize the pillows behind your back. When all is to his liking, he sits on the edge of the bed, caressing your face. His hazel eyes are soft, a comfort that you lean into, or as much as you can with your belly in the way. “He’ll be fine. Rhys and Nyx are going to be there too,” he reassures. And well, that doesn’t make you feel that much better. Rhys and Cassian and four children under 6. They’re in for a night. “And Zuz is getting all loved up by her aunties tonight.” Your daughter is spending the night at Feyre’s with her sisters, and you know that if anything, Rhys will have no problem calling in backup for the mischievous little boys.

“You’ll check in on them ever hour?” You ask, trying your best to get comfortable. The babe in your stomach gives a little kick, and you place your hand on your stomach, whispering down to him. “Soon, little guy, soon you’ll meet the world.”

“I’ll check on them every ten minutes if you want me to,” Azriel promises, placing his large hand over yours. Like the babe knows you and your mate are showing him affection, he kicks again. “But I don’t want you to worry. You need to focus on getting little Jax out.” He says the babes name like it’s the best he’s ever heard. He’s done that with all of your children, though. It fills you with warmth, his strong presence eases you into the comfort of your bed.

Malos and Knox:

“A sister!” Zuzu screeches in her uncle’s arms. You wince at the sheer volume of your four-year-old daughter, but you won’t scold her even through one of the hours old newborns in your arms squirms at the sound. She can’t help her excitement at the sight of her little sister, kicking out her tiny legs in demand to be released from Rhys’ clutches. He laughs and tries to situate Zuzu better in his arms. He looks to you for action, and with a soft nod of your head, he lets your daughter down.

Azriel, who has just handed Knox off to Feyre, who has tears in her eyes, quickly catches his oldest daughter around the waist before she can launch herself onto your bed and disturb the snoozing babe.

“Daddy,” Zuzu whines, but clings tightly to his shirt. Azriel immediately smooths her hair back from her face, disheveled from playing with her brothers all morning at her uncle’s house while you gave birth to the two newest members of your family. “I want to see my sissy!”

“Sissy’s sleeping,” he parent’s gently, bringing her closer. He sets Zuzu on the bed but stays close. “You need to be gentle, Zuz. She’s brand new.”

“Brand new,” Zuzu echoes, but you’re not entirely sure she knows what it means. She’s completely distracted by the small bundle in your arms anyway, her dark eyes glowing with delight. She looks up at you, wide-eyed, and you can’t help but smile at your daughter. “She’s mine?”

“She’s your sister,” you laugh softly. You position Malos in your arms so Zuzu can see better.

“Wow,” she whispers, awe in her tone. She softly reaches out and brushes a finger across her sister’s chubby cheeks. The babe makes a noise and Zuzu snatches her hand back to her chest.

“It’s okay, Zuz,” Azriel says gently. “She’s just saying hello.”

Zuzu nods at her father eagerly, then returns her attention to Malos. “Hello, little baby. I’m Zuz. I’m going to be the bestest big sister ever! I’m going to teach you so much, and nothing like our naughty brothers can show you…” She babbles while you share a loving look with your mate.

You were worried how Zuzu might react to a sister. She’s been surrounded by boys for four years, and right now, you can see that this is something special, something pure between the two girls.

“What are their names?” Feyre asks, placing Knox carefully in your arms while your sons join you and the rest of your family on the bed. Jax climbs directly into Azriel’s lap, clinging to him like a monkey. He peers down at the babes in your arms with curiosity.

Wren and Baz settle on your other side, leaning over to see both of the babes. They look just as excited as the rest of your family, and this moment right now, surrounded by your family and the people you love the most, makes everything worthwhile.

You smile at your mate, who gives you a soft nod of encouragement.

“Their names are Malos and Knox.”

[star-suh]

Sea of Thieves

Bang Chan x Male Reader

cw: pirate au, top chan, bareback, rough sex, dacryphilia, non-con/dubcon, musk kink, restraints/use of shibari (kinda), degradation, spit, cumming hands free, fingering, blowjob, rimjob, a belly bulge mention.

—

yn was escaping from the law, he had just become the most wanted after stealing the black pearl from the royal family. with no other way out, he boarded a ship as a stowaway, hoping that it would take him to a place far away from there, but unbeknownst to him, he had made a serious mistake. he didn't know it, but he had boarded the ship of the pirate christopher chan.

chris was known for getting what he wanted, he doesn't care if he has to kill for it, he'll do it, a player who slept with the daughters of the kings of the areas he visited and then stole their precious jewelry and had loot in gold coins. truly a motherfucker.

chris was going downstairs to secure his treasures, then, he heard a sound, he dismissed it at first thinking it was just a rat. “fucking plague” he snarls, while moving one of the big chests a tiny vase fell from the top of one and fell right over yn’s head making him emit a whimper. chris turns his head quickly to the sound “that’s not a fucking rat” he furiously stomps to where he heard the sound. pushing chests and nests aside he found a man covering his mouth, fear plastered on his face.

“the fuck you’re doing here…” he asks. yn shakes in fear, his first reflex was to throw something at the pirate and run. he climbs the stairs and when to the top of the ship just to find out it already sailed, he was now in the middle of the ocean with nowhere to escape, seeing no other way he was already to jump when something hit his head. the world around him became blurry while he fell to the wooden floor. then suddenly everything turns to black.

in a dark room with only the dim light of a candle. the sound of a slap echoed on the room accompanied with a “wake up bitch”. yn opened his eyes, confused, “where am i?”

“in my boat” someone responded. yn tried to follow the voice then his eyes met with a face, a handsome one, but he was angry. “are you one of those spies that fuckers send to steal my treasures?” he stands up, walking towards yn, each step echoed in the room as if a giant was coming near the prisoner. chris tugged on the rope that was preventing yn to move. he was suspended on the roof in a rather uncomfortable position. the rope went all the way to his neck, circling it, then going down his body with lots of knots here and there, on his wrists, torso and feet. unbeknownst to him, the pirate chris, tied him as if he was going to practice shibari.

the ropes on his ass were uncomfortable, they were positioned as if he was wearing a jockstrap, the ropes highlighting his clothed ass.

the interrogation went for almost like an hour, yn’s pleas annoyed chris but his tears were causing something to him, something hardening in his pants. at first chris ignores it thinking it was because he hasn’t slept with someone these past couple of days, maybe it was because he was alone on the ship now, right?.

the pirate tried so hard to avoid that growing burning sensation on his crotch but failed. something about yn’s flushed and helpless face, the tears sparkling due to the dim candle’s light.

“please i just want to get away from these lands” he said, “if- if you help me i can give you something in return”. the last part catching chris’ attention, “what?”. “i have something that if you help me to sell it you can buy a new ship with it.. hell even 10 ships if you want” yn quickly offers “let’s split my treasure in half, just.. just take me away from here”.

chris was dumbfounded, what was that thing that he had that would cost so much but his dick was still aching, it was begging to be freed so he added something more to the proposal, “we have a deal but.. i want something more” he moves around yn then positioning himself behind the prisoner. his fingers doing circling motions on the other’s clothed ass and then grabbing it full with his hand “let me take care of this” as he said that he rips yn’s pants, exposing his back entrance. “what the fuck” yn yells but his protests are quickly muffled by chris’ fat manly dick swinging in front of his face. the pirate undoes a knot so yn’s head hangs lower and he can take all of his dick on his mouth “put that mouth to better use. whore” chris put all his shaft inside it at once, making yn gag. he starts slowly then increased the speed. everytime he pulls down to go back and slam his junk on that wet cavity lots of saliva dripped to the floor and yn’s face. “watching you cry made something to me, so you should take full responsibility for it. be a good manwhore and swallow it all”.

“open wide” he keeps demanding, his balls slapping against yn’s face. yn obeyed and chris forced him to deepthroat him.”you’re skilled at this huh?. it makes me wonder how many dicks have you sucked before”. the pirate keeps slamming himself against the restrained man as if he was some kind of toy made just for his pleasures.

while he waits to cum on yn’s mouth he starts to spit and finger his exposed hole. his trust were sloppy now, signaling he was about to cum, in one of the his cock slipped out of yn’s mouth. the stowaway asks “what are you doing to my ass?” he was about to keep protesting but chris’ cock enters again on his mouth, he shushed him, “keep on sucking me bitch boy. i’m just preparing you for later”.

chris spat, fingered, slapped and kiss the other’s ass, it looks as if he was making out with his already puckered hole, “look how he’s winking at me. he wants me so bad” chris joked about yn clenching onto nothing but soon he would have the other’s tongue inside to clench on it.

yn wet gagging sounds filled the room, he was trying to swallow all the sperm the pirate shot inside his throat, it was a lot that he choked on it, coughing out some of the liquid. “i almost die, you bastard” once again yn’s complaints were ignored because chris was only focused on sucking his hole ‘this motherfucker is so good with his tongue’ yn thought, the anger on his face being just a facade to hide the pleasure he was receiving.

chris rearranged the rope and the knots leaving yn still suspended on air but this time his legs are wide open so the pirate can get an easy acces to his hole “time for real fun” he jokes slapping his tip on the wet hole. “don't fucking put that thing on me.. it's too big” he cried, “don't worry bitch boy” the pirate reassured in a mocking tone that didn't convince yn at all.

“let me use that used hole” he muttered, ramming all his shaft inside at once. tears formed on yn's eyes accompanied with a guttural moan “what's up bitch boy, you can’t handle me” he laughs at how pathetic yn was looking but his hole feels good so he's not gonna complain.

he put his calloused hand on yn's mouth “you're crying it's getting on my nerves” using it as a way to pound yn harder, every inch of it making its way on yn's insides. once in a while he stops thrusting to spit on his shaft as if it was a lube. the warm sensation of the spit making yn ‘feel funny’ causing that he clenches even more.

minutes later yn was free, except by his hands that were tied behind his back. he'a riding the pirate who got tired of doing all the work, “come on, move faster” he demanded slapping his hand against yn's cheeks. “hngh” he squirmed, still feeling the hand imprint burning in his ass “yes sir” he accelerated his pace. gushy sounds echoed in the room, accompanied by the crashing waves outside the ship and some moon light.

chris locked his arm around yn's neck and thrusted like a beast, forming a bulge in yn's stomach “wait. ahhh~” and as if it was a fountain yn's dick spurted cum everywhere, white drops falling on his body, the floor and even some on the walls.

“hahaha” chris laughs, amused of what he just saw “look at you cumming just by your ass. and you swear you're not a bitch”.

yn legs tremble, the tiredness and overstimulaton mix hitting him. “don't sleep on me i still have to fill you up” the pirate cooed, moving his hips slowly in a sensual manner. knowing that he could stay the rest of the night being drilled by that fat dick and seeing that he's falling asleep he decide to made him cum faster.

he grabbed chris’ neck getting his face closer towards him and kissed him, tongues battling to control each other's. meanwhile he moves his hips faster meeting chris’ thrusts that never slowed their pace, “what's gotten into yo-” he was cut by yn sloppy kisses. he was determined to make that bastard cum no matter what.

few thrusts later the pirate cums, yn’s walls sucking the milk out of it like a milking machine, “holy fuckkkk” chris slurred “you know how to work with that hole of yours”. he didn't pull out until the last drop was emptied on yn, his face resting against the stowaway's back, “shit that was good” a smile creeping on the pirate's face while yn just nodded tiredly…

yn wakes up in a bed, with new clothes, he climbs the stairs to look for the pirate, “hey bitchboy you're awake” he waved “yeah but my ass is sore. and stop calling me like that” yn replied, brows furrowed showing how annoyed he was. “tell me about the treasure” he asked with a serious tone and yn told him about the black pearl and how he got it. they planned to stay with it but knowing how dangerous it will be when everyone finds out they have it they decided to sell it and split the coins in two.

“i'm gonna reunite with my crew, see you later” chris said and turn his heels to go back to his ship, “why did you say see you later?” yn asked, being quickly responded by chris “i have a feeling that we will meet soon again” he says while doing some vulgar signs with his hands and sticking his tongue out, “you're disgusting” yn yells and chris just laughs at him showing the middle finger.

[asunsetgrace16]

✧ 𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚⎥𝗖𝗕98

The Chicago winter has fully set in by the time Connor has some time off. To ward off the chill, Y/N added several fluffy blankets to their bed, and now between her and extra coziness, it’s almost impossible for him to get out of bed in the morning. Luckily today is the start of the break for the Four Nations, so nobody set their alarm last night. 

Connor jolts awake in a panic, worried that he missed his alarm before remembering that today is a sleep-in day. Eventually they will have to get up, but there is lots of day left. Connor doesn’t even bother rolling over to reach his phone and check the time, simply stretching his legs out a bit before whacking something solid with his foot. He pokes his head up briefly and spies Frankie, who meows from the foot of the bed. Burrowing deeper into the warmth of the blankets, Connor rolls onto his side at the same time Y/N sleepily blinks her eyes open. 

“Hey,” she whispers to him, unwilling to disturb the moment. The room is dim, the clouds and heavy curtains blocking most of the watery winter sunlight, however little there is this early in the morning.

“Hi,” Connor whispers back. He brings a hand up to brush some hair behind her ear, draping an arm over her waist and sliding the other under her head. Frankie stands and stretches, before padding softly up the other side of Y/N.

Their lips brush in something you can barely call a kiss. Y/N tucks her head into his neck and presses a soft kiss to Connor’s sleep-warm skin, smelling like cloves and him. Their legs tangle together as Connor holds her tighter, mumbling mostly unintelligible sweet nothings low in Y/N’s ear. His slow heartbeat and lingering cologne, her coconut shampoo and socked feet because if her feet are cold, she doesn’t sleep. The warm nest of blankets and wrapped up limbs, with Frankie curled up with them makes for an irresistible concoction of sleep and sticky-sweet comfort. Nothing beats a slow morning, and it is even better when Connor is there to drift back asleep with.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Cannibals [Chapter 5: Sapphires and Cinnamon]

Series summary: You are his sister, his lover, his betrothed despite everyone else’s protests; you have always belonged to Aemond and believe you always will. But on the night he returns from Storm’s End with horrifying news, the trajectories of your lives are irrevocably changed. Will the war of succession make your bond permanent, or destroy the twisted and fanatical love you share?

Chapter warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), references to war-related violence, Targ chaos terrorizes poor innocent House Corbray, Red and Jace have a lovers' quarrel, interesting news arrives from the Riverlands, bats!!!

Word count: 7.4k

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Like game pieces on a board, he moves the coins he’s using as tokens around the ink-and-parchment Westeros that is rolled open across the table. He’s been underwater for weeks, but now he can breathe again. Aegon is starting to heal, through the worst of the danger and unlikely to die, and he has been tucked away someplace no enemy will find him: an unassuming farm in the countryside surrounding Rook’s Rest, under the protection of the knights of his Kingsguard and tended to by requisitioned maesters. Criston’s infantrymen and cavalry have rested and healed and reorganized to fill the gaps in their ranks following the battles to subdue the turncoat houses of the Crownlands. Yesterday, Aemond rode Vhagar to the stone gates of Claw Isle and accepted a tremulous, tearful surrender from Bartimos Celtigar’s lady wife, in whose care the castle was left. Rhaenyra will receive no further gold from the region, and she will find the treasury of King’s Landing empty, the wealth once stored there split and hidden at Tyland Lannister’s suggestion in Braavos, Casterly Rock, and Oldtown. She will try to tax the smallfolk to fund her war effort, and they will rise up and murder her. That, at least, is Aemond’s hope.

Criston walks into the room. He’s just come from the rookery, where ravens arrive carrying news from Green spies and allies throughout the Seven Kingdoms: the Triarchy will send ships to combat the Sea Snake’s fleet; the Hightower army in the Reach has won battles at the Honeywine, Tumbleton, and Bitterbridge; the Lannister army in the Riverlands triumphed at the Red Fork and Acorn Hall; Cregan Stark is marching south from Winterfell with ten thousand men to fight for Rhaenyra, and they will need to be dealt with.

This will all be over soon, and I can go home. Home to my family, home to her.

“Daemon is restless,” Aemond says, repositioning his coins. “He will tire of enduring Rhaenyra’s orders in the capital, and he will fly elsewhere on Caraxes. He yearns for battle, I know him. A hero’s glory, perhaps even a hero’s death. When he leaves King’s Landing, I will go there on Vhagar and kill Syrax, Vermax, and this new dragon Sheepstealer. I will retake the capital and then leave Daeron as its protector in my stead while I hunt Daemon. Daeron has proven himself in the Reach. He’s growing up.”

Faintly, fondly, Aemond smiles. But Criston appears stricken.

“Bad news,” Aemond says for him. “From where?”

“The Red Keep.”

“Mother?” He fears that Rhaenyra will have her executed like Grandsire, though this would be a grievous mistake. The people love the queen dowager, who has lived among them nearly all her life and selflessly nursed King Viserys while Rhaenyra seduced her uncle, plotted Laenor Velaryon’s death, and secluded herself and her vile nest of bastards and villains on Dragonstone.

Criston is hesitant to begin. Perhaps he isn’t sure if Aemond should know this. “No, your mother and Helaena are still held in the dungeon, captive but in relative safety. Jaehaera and Maelor are wards of Rhaenyra. I would assume she’s trying to win their affection and then arrange politically advantageous betrothals.”

There has been a name left out. Aemond stares up from his map, waiting.

“She’s been taken out of the city,” Criston says.

An impossibility, an irrationality. “What?”

“I don’t know where to, or for what purpose. But she’s not in King’s Landing.”

Aemond says nothing for long, cold, grey minutes. The sky outside beckons in the coming winter like a nefarious houseguest, one who shares your dinner table and then slits your throat while you’re asleep. When he finally speaks, his voice is low but fierce. “She’s no threat to them.”

“She isn’t.”

“She can’t travel by dragon.”

“No,” Criston agrees. “So they must have transported her by land or sea.”

Aemond shakes his head. “Why would Rhaenyra do that?”

Criston’s dark eyes are afraid. “I don’t know.”

“Where might they have sent her? Where could she be?”

“Anywhere, Aemond,” Criston says helplessly. “Anywhere.”

And it rises in him like magma through the earth: a scorching venom that pools in the capillary beds of his lungs, a fatal heat that burns away flesh and bones and reason.

~~~~~~~~~~

Rain falls from the sky, sea spray erupts from the waves, stinging eyes and the abrasions on your skin from falling on the rocks over and over again. You are a child, and you are tracking Vermithor on Dragonstone. The mist is so thick that Criston and the guards have lost sight of you, and you can hear them shouting for you to wait for them, but you can’t, you can’t, you’ve wanted this for years and now it’s about to happen. You can feel the volcanic stones, black and serrated, quaking as the Bronze Fury stomps in his hovel. The cave is shrouded in fog, but you know he’s in there. He is growling, a sound like thunder. You can see the glinting gold of his eyes.

“Vermithor!”you command him in High Valyrian, holding out your hands, your maroon gown billowing around you in the vicious wind. Strands of long silver hair are torn from your braid. Blood runs in thin rivulets from your ravaged palms down your wrists and forearms. Saltwater burns like fire in the gashes on your feet; you’ve lost your shoes while scrambling over the rocks. “All my life I’ve dreamed of you, and now we will fly together at last. We will be bonded to one another until death. We will preserve the realm and burn our enemies. Serve me, Vermithor! Serve me!”

He emerges from his cave: a colossal skull covered in scales and spines, steam rising from his nostrils, jagged fangs bared, eyes that are at once reptilian and mindless and wrathful and sage. He is a century old and unfathomably mighty; he is an inheritor of the sacred magic of Old Valyria. He judges you with eyes like kindling flames.

“Red, step back!” Aemond yells from where he watches, his black cloak like a banner in the wind, closed at the neck with a silver chain and with a constellation of silver buttons in the shape of Vhagar’s wings across his shoulders. He is the only person who has kept pace with you. “Give him room! Let him approach you!”

But Vermithor is yours, there is no other possibility, in your heart he has always been yours, he has been the beast you claimed in your soul when you first heard his legends as Aemond read them aloud to you, Aegon, Helaena, Daeron under the heart tree in the Godswood of the Red Keep, and now you will climb onto his back and fly with him and meet Aemond and Vhagar in the mist-grey sky. From deep in his throat, the Bronze Fury snarls.

“Vermithor, be calm! Don’t you recognize me? We are meant for each other. We belong to each other. The dragon egg I was given in the cradle didn’t hatch so I could come here and find you instead. I am not afraid of you. I will not flee from you. Serve me! Serve me!”

“It’s not working,” Aemond tells you with dawning horror. “Get away from him! Red, get away!”

“Serve me, Vermithor!” you scream, and now you’re terrified, because his jaws are opening and dragonfire is boiling up into his mouth, crimson and glowing. “No, no!”

You try to run but the heat is already everywhere, and the air is suddenly too hot to breathe, and when you touch your face with your bloody hands you can feel your cheeks blistering. And then something collides with you like a lance striking a jousting knight, and you are thrown to the ground. It’s Aemond, and he is shoving you down into a crevice between two slabs of black basalt, and when instinctively you try to push him away—you’re always fighting him, something wild to be tamed—Aemond pins your wrists to your chest and shields your body with his, shrinking from the lethal heat of the world outside and burying his face in the velvet of your gown.

Then Criston and the guards and the Dragonkeepers are here, and with their ancient spells the Dragonkeepers convince Vermithor to retreat into his cave. When Aemond helps you out of the crevice, you see that the buttons on the back of his cloak have melted, and if the attack had lasted even a moment longer he’d be dead.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you wake in your bedchamber at the top of a tower of Heart’s Home, Jace is already gone. You peer through the window and see him strolling in the castle courtyard with Lord Leowyn Corbray, both of them bundled up in heavy furs; there is a layer of powdery snow on the ground, just as high as the ankles. The pine trees of the surrounding forest sway in the cold mountain wind. Servants lead horses in and out of the stable. And you wonder randomly: Do they have bats in the Vale?

Maids hear you walking around and file into the room to show you the clothes your closet has been stocked with through House Corbray’s generosity and help you dress. They try to distract you, but you notice anyway: one of them strips the bed and takes the sheets away, blotted with a watery, pale pink stain of blood. You’re sore, but not terribly so, just enough pain to remind you—when you move in certain ways—that you are wed to Jace, and that he took you last night as any husband would, and that now you could be carrying his dark-haired heir. The thought stuns you; you’ve never been more than ambivalent to the prospect of bearing children. Your dreams were of Vermithor, and marrying Aemond, and being possessed by him in every sense possible. Motherhood would come later, and you had always assumed you would one day begin to dream of that too.

Do I dream of it now?

No, you feel in your bones. Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

The colors of the Vale are chilly and weak like the sky. The maids show you velvet gowns of dusky rose, icy blue, moss green, dove grey. After some consideration, you choose the blue. Then you wander the castle, your drafty stone prison, your new home. There are no tapestries of the Hightower or wrathful dragons or lovers ensnared like knotted threads, no familiar faces. Heart’s Home is austere, its primary embellishments being candlelit chandeliers and rugs made from dead animals, and the loudest sound you hear is the whistling of wind through cracks in the walls, frigid air that howls in from the Mountains of the Moon.

After much exploration you find the rookery, where ravens squawk in their cages and bed down in mounds of straw, and through the window is a view of snowcapped mountains that stretch on endlessly like a sea. There is no table to write on, and you see no parchment or ink or quills, and you don’t know which raven (if any of them) is trained to fly to Rook’s Rest. It doesn’t matter; you can’t write to Aemond without endangering your family held hostage in King’s Landing. And even if you could, what would you say to him?

Aemond, I’ve married Jace and I did it to save you. But don’t fear for my safety. I am protected here, I am content enough. I have no dragon, but I can help fight the war in my own way. Jace seems to like me. I might even be beginning to like him too.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” someone says, and you whirl to see Lord Corbray’s wife filling up the doorway.

You do not bow or curtsey. As a princess, you outrank her. “Lady Caroline.” No. Not quite. “Lady Carolyn. Lady Carolina.” Then you remember. “I am so sorry, Lady Carolei. Forgive me.”

She laughs boisterously. “Carolei is a common name in the Vale, but not elsewhere, I’ve been told. My closest friends here call me Lady Caro, you can feel welcome to do the same.”

“Lady Caro. Please allow me to apologize again.”

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary. I’m sure you had a late night.” Her eyes—large and round, almost bulging, and a very pale blue—sweep from your feet to your face. “But you didn’t have too bad of a time with it, I think.”

“The maids took the sheets,” you say like an accusation.

She smiles, perhaps a little guiltily. “As High As Honor,” she replies. “They are the words of House Arryn, but all the great families of the Vale aspire to be above reproach.”

“And you are a great family.” It’s more of a question.

“We are not grand or wealthy, that’s true,” Lady Caro concedes. “And I can imagine our little castle cannot compare to King’s Landing or the Hightower of your Mother’s house. But we are dependable and honest. What Queen Rhaenyra has entrusted us with is a tremendous privilege. We will abide by her instructions, and endeavor to satisfy her every request.”

“So she wanted to know that I bled.”

Lady Caro shrugs—I can’t tell you that—and then signals for you to follow her. “Join me in the Great Hall. We’ll have some cinnamon tea.”

The Great Hall of Heart’s Home is about the same size as your bedchamber in the Red Keep, with two rows of wooden tables and a crackling fire in the hearth. When you look into the glowing embers, you are reminded of Vermithor’s flames. Cool overcast light falls like snow in through the windows. Lady Caro gestures for you to sit with her at the table closest to the fire, and maids bring you fried eggs and bacon, fresh bread, butter, blackberry jam, and cinnamon tea, milky and aromatic and very sweet.

“It must be difficult for you,” Lady Caro says thoughtfully as she slurps her tea, steam wafting into the air. “Being so very far from your family. Even if they are traitors.”

She seems to be testing you for a reaction. You gaze into your tea and try not to let tears well up in your eyes as you think of them: Mother and Helaena in a dungeon, Jaehaera and Maelor with strangers, Jaehaerys and Grandsire dead, Daeron at war, Aegon burned, Aemond hating me once he learns of my betrayal. None of us are in the same place. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. “But you must be far from home too. Women get married off and sent across the world, it’s nothing new.”

“This is true,” Lady Caro muses. “I am originally of House Coldwater, and if you think Heart’s Home is plain and remote, I hope you never see Coldwater Burn. You’ve probably never even heard of it.”

“It’s up near the Fingers,” you say softly, remembering Aemond showing you dots littering the Vale on one of his maps, warm firelight, teasing hands, his lips murmuring against the shell of your ear. “The colors of its banner are blue, red, and white.”

She gasps and presses a palm to her chest, delighted. Her already ruddy cheeks flush pinker. “Mother have mercy, they teach that in the capital?”

“I have an interest in geography.” No, you don’t; but Aemond does.

“Do you embroider or sing?”

“Neither. Not well, anyway. Helaena works miracles with a needle and thread.” Absently, you touch your gown where beneath the pale blue velvet a scar runs from your left collarbone down to the top of your breast. So does Aemond.

Lady Caro observes this curiously, peering at you over the rim of her mug. “How did you occupy yourself before you came here? I do want to make you feel as comfortable as possible.”

Because you are kind? Because Rhaenyra told you to? Or because I might be the queen myself someday? “I spent a lot of time with my brothers and sister,” you answer honestly, dolefully. And I kept bats. You decide to omit this. “We all had our crafts. I made mosaics out of seashells.”

Lady Caro titters. “Seashells? Well, they aren’t exactly abundant, but there are some out near where the river meets the Narrow Sea. I’ll see if I can have a bucketful brought to you.”

“I can collect them.”

“The water is very cold, and the current powerful.”

“I like to choose my own shells. You can send knights to watch over me, I’m not hoping to drown myself or anything.”

Now Lady Caro laughs loudly. “Drown yourself! The things you say, princess…”

You decide to try to make conversation to encourage her affection, as Mother would want you to. “Do you have children, Lady Caro?”

“Oh yes, five of them. Four died though. Awful luck, isn’t it?” She goes somber, staring blankly out the nearest window for a long while, leaving you unsure of what to do or say. Eventually, she returns to the Great Hall and is cheerful again. “My daughter Jessamyn was married into House Mallister of Seagard. I get to see her and the children once every few years. And she’s nothing like you.”

You smirk cautiously. “What does that mean?”

“It means she’s very sweet and agreeable and naïve.” And then Lady Caro winks at you, and you realize you might be becoming friends. “Not like a Targaryen.”

You drink your cinnamon tea and think of last night, feeling a strange brew of fondness and shame and relief and loss. “Sounds a bit like Jace though.”

“Yes, well,” Lady Caro says, then wisely leaves the rest unspoken. He’s more of a Strong, isn’t he?

One of the Great Hall’s heavy wooden doors creaks open and Jace strides inside, wearing black accented with red and a bear fur coat overtop, speckled with snowflakes. More flurries are melting in his hair. You stand to meet him and he takes both of your hands. You smile uneasily, not knowing what to expect; then Jace playfully kisses the knuckles of your right hand, and after that your left, and he beams at you.

Instead of a greeting, he says: “We have a few more days together, then I have to go away.”

It’s the second time a man has told you this. “Go where?”

Jace shrugs evasively. No one is allowed to tell you anything. “Do you like horses?”

“Sure.” Aemond used to take you to visit his war horses, all towering and temperamental: Rusty, Apple, Fox, Ladybug, Pomegranate. Then he would watch as you stroked their forelocks and their downy muzzles, his remaining eye fixed on you, imagining sins that never felt like damnation but rather searing, tumultuous waves like an ocean of blood.

“Good. I’ll show you the stable.” Jace kisses you, a quick peck for modesty’s sake since you aren’t alone. He grins and licks his lips. “Mm. You taste like cinnamon.” Something warm, something red. He turns to Lady Caro. “Thank you for making us feel so welcome. The queen will be pleased to hear of your devoted service to the crown. We know that this is an imposition, and we appreciate your generous sacrifice.”

“Nonsense,” Lady Caro replies, and she seems to mean it. “It’s no imposition. It’s an honor.” Then she rises to her feet. “Let me find some boots and a fur coat for the princess.”

Once you are properly guarded against the cold—wrapped in a thick coat of fox pelts—Jace links his arm through yours and leads you outside, and you tread together through the shallow snowfall toward the stable.

“You’ve probably never even seen snow before,” Jace says, and you agree even though this isn’t true. You saw snow here in the Vale when you were very young—you don’t even remember which castle Mother and Father had been visiting on their royal progress—and that was the trip when Aemond pushed you into a frozen river and you caught a chill that almost killed you.

“Jace?” you ask, cutting him off mid-sentence. You hadn’t meant to interrupt him; your mind had been wandering.

He looks at you with some trepidation, as if he’s worried you might have a complaint. “Yes?”

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

He blinks at you, then exhales in a relieved chuckle. “You’re asking why I’m nice?”

“You never liked me before. And you had no reason to.” In your eyes, I was a traitor. If you could tell what I’m feeling, you’d know I still am.

He ponders how to answer as you walk. Now his expression is serious. “I always knew that when I married—to whoever it was, although for most of my life I believed it would be someone else—that would be it for me, and I would never be estranged from her or take another lover. There are so many families with…” He pauses, and you watch him closely. “There are so many children who suffer from the indiscretions of their parents.” There is a bloom of ashamed, gory pink in his cheeks, and you know he is speaking of himself, and of all the bastards anywhere in the world who have ever been made to feel lied to, less than, disgraced, disavowed. “I swore to myself that I would be a good husband and father, and that my own household would be…wholly uncomplicated.”

“So you would act this way with anyone. With whoever you were wed to.”

“Well…” He smiles softly. “As it turns out, there are things I like about you.”

“Really?” you tease, grinning, and when you reach the stable you shove the door open and step inside onto a straw-strewn floor. There’s no biting mountain breeze here in the shadows, and the body heat radiating off the horses makes the air more hospitable. Jace seems surprised you didn’t wait for him to open the door for you. “What things?”

“Several things,” Jace says, then—now that you are alone aside from the horses nickering and chomping on hay in their stalls—wraps his arms around your waist and holds you from behind, kissing the side of your neck. You have to resist the reflex to fight him off so he can overpower you, pin you to the floor, fuck you as you hiss and claw at him and tell him to stop. Jace wouldn’t understand it. Jace would be horrified by it. “Here,” Jace whispers, skimming a hand over your gown where he made you bleed last night. Then his palms travel up to your breasts. “And here.” Then he nuzzles your silver hair as he gently unfastens your braid and inhales deeply. “And I like this too. Although I’d be interested to see you wear it in a style that is a little…softer.”

“Softer?” you echo doubtfully.

“You’re not a warrior,” Jace says as if he thinks you will want to hear this, as if it will comfort you. It doesn’t. “And that’s alright. You can be soft. You can be ladylike.”

You don’t feel very much like a lady. You feel like a kettle full of boiling water, like lava bursting up through the cracks in the earth, like dragonfire hemorrhaging from a beast’s gaping throat. Now you and Jace are on the wooden floor of the stable, displacing straw as you kiss hungrily and pull off each other’s coats. Jace climbs on top of you, and you think: I can’t do this again, not like last night. I want to be fed too.

Jace stops to marvel at your face, his thumb skating over the curve of your cheekbone. “I want to make it as good for you as it is for me,” he says solemnly. “Last night it was over so quickly, and…I didn’t…I feel like I could have done more, but I don’t know…I’m not sure if…”

You grab his right hand and lace your fingers through his. “Can I show you how I touch myself?”

Jace’s eyebrows go up. “You touch yourself?”

“Don’t you?”

“Well, yes,” he admits bashfully, blushing. He does this a lot, you are learning. “But I’m a man.”

You smile. “Women experience longing too, Jace.”

“Yes,” he says, and now he’s breathing quickly and it sounds less like he’s merely intrigued and more like he’s begging for it. “Show me. Please show me.”

You take his hand and guide it beneath your gown, up the length of your legs, stopping where you are slick and needful, an ache so deep it hurts like the cramps when your blood arrives each month. You place two of Jace’s fingers on the right spot—he keeps inadvertently moving his hand just off the mark, and each time you put it back where it belongs—and lead him into a rhythm, a tight swift circling and pressure that makes your thighs open wider for him and your spine arch.

Jace murmurs as you pant on the stable floor, shadows on your face and straw in your hair: “Is this okay, am I hurting you at all?”

“You can press down pretty hard,” you assure him. “You won’t break me. I’m not glass.”

He’s trying not to lose his focus. “Okay…okay…”

“Jace,” you gasp as you sling your arms around the back of his neck and cling to him, your hips rocking, and he moans and kisses you—deeply, passionately, gluttonously—and under your dress his hand suddenly strokes you so forcefully it’s almost painful and then it’s on you, that feeling better than anything else on earth, being opened, being dragged under, being ignited, being devoured until you go weak and limp and boneless, aftershocks throbbing and your lips smiling drowsily. “Jace, Jace, Jace,” you breathe dizzily, still holding him.

He is gazing down at you, awestruck. “When can I watch you do that again?”

“Soon,” you purr through Jace’s dark curls. “Now…your turn.”

You are barely aware of it as he pushes the hem of your gown up to your waist and frees himself from his trousers, and you only come back to Jace when he enters you—your flesh still tender from last night, but wet and wanting him—and he is careful as he slowly pushes himself all the way inside, trying not to hurt you again. Then he thrusts and you are stunned by how good it feels, like your climax made everything more sensitive, more ready, more flawlessly tailored to fit with him. Jace doesn’t last much longer than the first night, and yet just before it’s over there is the ghost of something, a vague desire that is building, and you think next time (or the time after that, or the time after that) you will be able to finish again, and you will be drained like a slaughtered animal with its throat cut and its body hung by the feet, every last blood drop purged and collected in a bucket to be used for fertilizer or pig feed.

Lying together exhausted on the stable floor, you twirl one of Jace’s curls around your finger and—purely by instinct, because it’s what you and Aemond used to do—whisper to him in High Valyrian: “I love how you touch me, thank you, I needed this, I needed you.” But you can tell by the way Jace turns to you, startled and a little self-conscious, that he doesn’t understand what you said.

“I know some High Valyrian, of course,” he explains quickly. “But I’m…I’m still learning.”

“Oh.” It doesn’t come easily to him. Because he’s a Strong, and the Strongs have nothing to do with Old Valyria. And then, to temper the blow: “I can help you practice.”

“Who taught it to you?” Jace asks. He is suspicious, then hopeful. “Helaena?”

You should lie to him, but you don’t. At some point you have to start letting raindrops of the truth seep in. You are going to share a household with Jace, your bodies, your futures, your children. You want him to understand who you really are. You can’t pretend forever; already, it is stifling, a constant and trudging effort, a vanishing until you are transluscent like clear water. You are reminded of all the times when you’ve tried to hide pieces of yourself to please Mother, whose Hightower blood was washed away by the grim, intoxicating magic of the Targaryens. “No, Helaena doesn’t speak High Valyrian except when giving commands to Dreamfyre. She can understand it fairly well, though.”

Jace nods, studying you, but he doesn’t say anything else. The phantom of Aemond stands in the far corner of the stable. You think: I am a traitor to both of them, I am a house of no banners. After a moment, you ask Jace for your very first favor.

“I want Helaena freed from the dungeon in the Red Keep,” you say. “I understand Rhaenyra’s distrust of Mother, but Helaena is innocent. She should be confined to her chambers and permitted to see her children. And allowed to walk in the garden sometimes too.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Jace says distractedly.

“You know Helaena. She is gentle, she is fragile. She deserves compassionate treatment.”

“So did Luke,” Jace replies; and though he takes your hands and helps you to your feet as horses snort and paw at the straw-covered floors of their stalls, he averts his dark gaze—an inheritance from his bloodline, the indomitable lineage of the First Men—and doesn’t meet your eyes.

Two days later he departs Heart’s Home for a destination that Lord and Lady Corbray know, surely, but you don’t. Jace bids you farewell at the edge of the field beyond the castle walls as Vermax waits impatiently for him across the clearing, not liking the mountain cold, not liking you. Jace wears black and red as he almost always does, the colors of his mother’s house. His curls are ruffled by the breeze, his red cloak flowing down from his shoulders like a trail of blood.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Jace touches your cheek, then your chin. “I’ll miss you and all those things I’ve discovered I like so much.”

You smile back. You have the beginning of a headache—a throbbing above your left eye, a fuzziness in your thoughts—but you’re trying not to show it. “I’ll be here.” Where else could I go?

“I love you,” Jace says, and then looks at you expectantly. It takes you a minute to realize he’s waiting for you to say it too.

You open your mouth, but your pulsing skull is clamoring with prayers you cannot voice. Please protect the family I have left. Please don’t find a way to kill Aemond. At last you manage: “I love you,” but it sounds hollow and unnatural and cold, like stark snowcapped peaks and the gales that shriek through them.

Nonetheless, Jace is satisfied. He tilts up your face to bring his lips to yours and then treks across the field towards Vermax, leaving footprints in the fresh snow. His sword hangs from his belt. He practices with knights in the castle courtyard each day, and he’s not bad, you’ve observed anxiously. Not as good as Aemond, but not bad.

That night you see the shadow of something interrupting the moonlight that floods in through the window of your bedchamber, and when you push open the glass a bat lands clumsily on the sill and then scrabbles inside. You squeal with delight and scoop it into your arms. It’s a male and a different sort of bat than the ones in King’s Landing, larger in size, black and white in color and with long fanlike ears. He sniffs at you and gazes up with small but intelligent inky eyes. Then, as a mark of friendship, he begins to lick at your fingertips.

“And what do you eat, huh?” you coo as you pet him. “Probably not honey or fruit if you live way up here in the mountains. Probably just bugs. Should I try to catch you some spiders tomorrow? This decrepit old castle must be full of them.”

You have to name him. And this is an opportunity to break all your old patterns. You could call him Seahorse for Jace’s false house, or Dragon for his true one. You could call him the High Valyrian word for bat or wings. You could name him after something black, the color that Jace favors. And yet as you hold him, old memories come screaming back to you, Aemond helping you tend to your bats, Aemond protecting them, moments of kindness and understanding that you now fear were illusions.

He never said he loves me. Not once in eighteen years.

You keep waiting for a glimpse into Aemond’s mind, a stabbing pang of loss and longing when he realizes you’ve been taken away, but it never happens. You keep waiting for him to find you and descend upon House Corbray with fire and blood.

Aemond, where are you? Aemond, have you forgotten me?

“Sapphire,” you whisper to your new bat—your only bat—and he looks up at you as if he knows his name.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jace is gone for weeks, and in his absence you try to learn how to be his wife. You ask Lady Caro to teach you how to wear your hair like the ladies of the Vale: soft waves, sedate buns knotted at the nape of the neck, delicate wisps that frame the face and blow in the harsh mountain wind. You attempt to cultivate an affinity for pale impassionate colors. You distract yourself so you don’t think of Aemond. You catch spiders and moths in secret to feed to Sapphire when he visits you each night. You spend days practicing quiet, feminine embroidery—ruining yarn scenes, piercing your fingertips with needles—until you give it up and fling the cursed tangle of threads away and return to your strange fixations that once confounded Mother.

Lady Caro sends knights to accompany you to the mouth of the river, and you wade up to your knees in the icy water plucking rare shells out of the silt and the pebbles. You are not permitted to collect bones from the forest—there are bears and wolves and shadowcats—but you arrange for the hunters to give you what’s left of the carcasses once they’ve been skinned and butchered. The carpenters give you boards of wood and the blacksmiths forge you a small iron mallet. Sometimes Lady Caro stands in the castle kitchen watching you boil animal bones in a caldron or in your bedchamber as you shatter shells and paint the shards with glue, and she shakes her head, surely thinking: What is wrong with these Targaryens?

You don’t dare to make any mosaics of Aemond. It’s too dangerous, and too painful, and too revealing of what you’re truly feeling. So instead you piece together visions of the rest of them: Aegon smirking over a goblet of red wine, butterflies landing on Helaena’s outstretched palm, Daeron riding Tessarion, Mother smiling at Criston, Jaehaera and Maelor playing together in the garden of the Red Keep. You hang them on the walls of your bedchamber and at night you sleep better.

When Jace and Vermax return to Heart’s Home, you and Lady Caro are in the inaptly named Great Hall sipping cinnamon tea and nibbling blackberry oatcakes, and Lady Caro is telling you about her flock of grandchildren who reside at Seagard on the shore of the Sunset Sea. “Jasper is clever but terribly loud, and then Joy won’t talk to humans at all but loves her cats…” She trails off as your husband rushes into the room, his steps buoyant, his red cloak flying behind him.

“Welcome back, Prince Jacaerys,” Lady Caro says as she stands to greet him. “I hope your travels were comfortable and all your ventures went well.”

“Very well,” he says, grinning, alight with victories that are yet unspoken. Lady Caro dismisses herself to give the two of you privacy, promising to bring cinnamon tea for Jace. As soon as she is gone, Jace bolts to the table.

“What happened?” you ask he sits opposite of you. The hearth throws off rage-colored heat.

Please let this be peace and not violence. Please don’t have harmed anyone I love.

He is beaming as he takes a messy bite of a blackberry oatcake, crumbs falling down onto the table. And he must have decided that he can begin telling you his secrets now. Perhaps he trusts you; perhaps he knows there’s nothing you can do to sabotage him anyway, no ravens to send, nobody to inform. “I found someone to ride Vermithor.”

The realization sinks inside you, dark and heavy, an anchor, a sickness. You murmur, knowing it is pointless: “He was supposed to be mine.”

“Well…he didn’t agree.”

This hurts you; Jace doesn’t seem to notice. You think of the tiny wooden Vermithor that Aegon once carved for you, and you wonder if it’s still on your dresser in Maegor’s Holdfast or if Rhaenyra has burned or broken it, or mistaken it for something of no value.

“Corlys’ bastard Addam has claimed Seasmoke,” Jace continues, as if this could not possibly be anything to you but good news. “Vermithor and Seasmoke are now helping Mother to safeguard the capital. Daemon and Nettles…” Jace gestures awkwardly. There was a falling out with Rhaenyra. “They’ve taken Harrenhal as a base in the Riverlands. So we needed more help in King’s Landing, and we found it.”

We have two battleworthy dragons. Now they have six. No wonder Jace is so pleased.

“And there are still other unclaimed dragons,” you say dully, nauseous with dread.

“Yes,” Jace agrees. “But unfortunately, Aemond realized what we were doing. So he took possession of Dragonstone, and he and Vhagar are always back and forth from there, and no one can approach the island and risk him happening upon them.” Another bite of his blackberry oatcake, more crumbs, more casual chewing. “Which brings me to my question for you.”

“For me?”

Jace nods. “I need you to tell me what he’s going to do next.”

You stare at your husband inanely. “What?”

“Aemond is the problem,” Jace says, more agitated now. He devours the last of his blackberry oatcake. “Even with all the dragons we have, it’s going to be difficult to destroy Vhagar. Our new dragonriders are inexperienced, and Daemon, he’s…” Jace waves a hand. “Unreliable. Self-serving. But you were there at the Red Keep with Aemond when he and Criston were drawing up their plans, and therefore you can help us.”

You lie immediately. “I don’t know anything.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Another lie. “Really. He didn’t discuss it with me.”

“Then tell me about him,” Jace says impatiently. “I know he’s good with a sword, but he must have weaknesses. Does he have lasting pain from his maiming, does he have vices that distract him?”

I’m not convinced I knew Aemond at all. “I’m not going to help you kill him.”

Jace glares at you incredulously. “How do you think this ends?”

“Rhaenyra promised Mother that Aemond would be spared, and you were a part of that bargain—”

“We said we would let him live if he’s still alive when the war is over, but we can’t win the war if he and Vhagar are seizing castles and territory and burning our men and supplies and nobody can stop him!”

“Does he know that…” You swallow, your throat burning. “Did Rhaenyra send him a raven to tell him about our marriage?” About my treason, about my ruining?

“No. Why would we provoke him like that? Why would we put a target on my back? The realm will be told when the battles are past and the surviving Green loyalists must be convinced to bend the knee.”

You close your eyes and you can’t picture Aemond as a warrior; you can only see him as a child with stitches and agony, as a man who gave you forbidden, bewitching pleasure. “I don’t know anything. I can’t help you.”

“I did as you asked,” Jace snaps. “I persuaded Mother to give Helaena more freedom, I ensured that Alicent is healthy and that Jaehaera and Maelor are well cared for and never lonely. I can probably even save Daeron. But Aemond must be stopped.”

“He’s my family too—”

“I am your family now!” Jace roars, jolting to his feet and pounding on his own heart. “Me and my siblings, and my parents, and my children, not them!”

One of the doors of the Great Hall swings open and Lady Caro is there with a tray of cinnamon tea and fresh blackberry oatcakes. She gapes at you and Jace, too shocked to remember to be polite. It’s too late for her to pretend she hasn’t heard. She stalls, trying to think of something to say.

“I believe we’re having venison for dinner,” she announces with feigned cheerfulness.

Jace looks at you one last time—with disappointment, with fury—and storms out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~

He doesn’t come to bed all night, and you leave the window wide open so Sapphire can glide in and visit you: hanging from your bedposts, scrambling over your blankets, and then vanishing shortly before daylight. You have a headache that worsens until you are half-blind and sick to your stomach, and the maids hear you retching and bring you toasted bread and ginger tea and a bucket and wet cloths to cool your face.

Lady Caro wanders in and sits down beside you, her weight shifting the feather mattress, and pats your shoulder sympathetically. “I think you should tell the prince that his efforts have been successful.” To produce an heir, she means, and you’re convinced she’s wrong.

“That’s not what it is,” you moan, burrowing under the blankets. “I’m sick all the time.”

“You haven’t had your monthly blood since you’ve been here,” Lady Caro says gently, and of course she knows this because of her maids, her spies. You stare up at her vacuously, unable to comprehend it.

Pregnant with Jace’s child?

And this feels like a final severing of any possibility that Aemond will ever want you back. No other man was allowed to lie with you. Now Jace has wed you, bedded you, bred with you, turned your coat.

You force yourself out of bed and let the maids dress you and comb your hair, nursing the ginger tea—unappetizing, but good for nausea—as you gather your courage. You aren’t sure how to tell Jace. You aren’t sure that you want to see him at all.

Your skull still throbbing and your bare feet unsteady, you stumble through the cold stony corridors of the castle until you hear men arguing spiritedly in the Great Hall, their voices rumbling like thunder. Inside you find Lord Corbray, a number of lords and knights, and the maester of the castle. Jace is bent over one of the tables and reading, then rereading, a letter that the maester must have brought from the rookery.

Lord Corbray is saying: “They write that he has already razed Darry, Blackbuckle, Claypool, Swynford, and Spiderwood. The noble houses are constructing scorpions, but even with them, how many bolts would be needed to kill Vhagar? She’s massive, she’s monstrous. The Northmen are marching south, but now they’re saying they won’t go beyond the Twins without Caraxes and Sheepstealer as escorts, and can we count on Daemon for anything…?”

Jace looks up and sees you standing in the threshold. His dark curls hang over his bloodless face; his eyes are staggered and fearful. And twistedly, horribly, there is a flash of light that burns radiantly through the murky gloom of your skull and your ribcage, a forbidden vindication, a rapture you can never reveal.

Aemond remembers me? Aemond longs for me?

Jace says: “He thinks you’re in the Riverlands.”

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave you (Pt. 79)

(Sneak peek)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: It's Hoseok's turn to breed you through your heat, but Namjoon won't let him have it easily.

Tags: Heat sex, knotting, group sex, Sub! m/c, Dom! Namjoon, Sub! Hobi, d/s, threesome, comparing knots, Cumplay, size kink, big dick Namjoon, womb fucking, belly bulge, slight inflation kink, breeding kink, clit torture if you squint, overstimulation, voyeurism, squirting, messiness kink, inspection kink, humiliation kink, implied cuckolding, very brief human furniture, implied puppy play, puppy space Hobi, collars, dominance displays, porn without plot,

W/c: 10.7k

A/n: ahhhhh here it is <3 the second part of last chapter that i split last minute <3 more filth but at least it's hobi filth <3 keep your eyes wide open on the ending! this one is a bit of a cliffhanger <3

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Namjoon leans down, pressing a kiss to your nape. Meanly pressing in further, harder. You are so hot inside, the heat fever tearing through you now that you have a little food in your stomach and more energy to burn. Warm and wet and tight. Your eyes roll back and Hobi can do nothing but watch.

But Namjoon's pace stutters. It's understandable. This is the 5th knot he’s given you in as many hours. It's sometime after mid-morning and it's been probably around 30 hours since he's slept at all. Namjoon's only human. Even the pack alpha can't last forever.

Hoseok's honestly a little surprised that Namjoon hasn't tapped out yet, that his knot isn't ready to fall off.

But Hoseok watches his pace falter and Hoseok's lip lifts. It's an instinct to growl. Namjoon spies it, hackles raising.

Alpha instincts are a peculiar thing.

“You think you could do better?” Namjoon taunts, a little playfully. Arms bulging as he holds himself up, trusting harder into you. Almost in retaliation. Hobi blushes and looks away, successfully chastised.

Hoseok shouldn't be intimidated, Namjoon might be the pack alpha, but Hobi has still seen him put his shoes on the wrong feet before and leave the house- too many times to count.

The growl comes out of his mouth before he thinks better about it.

Namjoon stops moving.

Hobi clamps a hand over his mouth in surprise and the snarl becomes a whine. “Yes! No! Maybe- I think I-.” Hobi hovers unsure, bashful at being caught snarling at the pack alpha. Across the nest Jin lifts his head, woken up by it, hair all fluffy.

Namjoon is not one to let this kind of thing slide especially not during a heat.

Namjoon slides out of you, long and hard and hot. You whimper. You don't like feeling empty. You try to push back on him but are stopped by a hand pressed blank your pussy, Namjoon's fingers brushing your hole, fucked open and messy. Gaping just a little and dripping a pretty spiderweb like strand of cum down onto the nest.

You whine. Loud and grating. Hoseok's instincts make him want to gnash his teeth. It sets him on edge. Across the nest, Yoongi turns, distracted from his task of trying to convince Jungkook to suck on a straw instead of trying to suck on his dick. Alarmed at the sound of your whine and the desperation in it.

“Alright alright, calm down,” Namjoon says, kind of laughing through it, kind of high. Namjoon is the picture of restraint- he's not a knothead. He's not like Hobi. He doesn't snarl and push and fight at another alpha challenging him- No.

Namjoon looks at Hobi, a mean glint in his eye. Namjoon can get a little scary when he's got something to prove, even scarier when he's got a job to do.

Your collar is there by the edge of the nest, taken out when Jimin put on his, black with a golden puppy tag, the twin to Hobi's red one. Your pink one is showing its wear. It's worn at the hole in the buckle, the one that fits you nice and loose. Perfect as a handhold.

Namjoon points and Hobi gets it before he's even registered that he's following a nonverbal order. Flushing as he takes off the bell and then tries to hand it over.

But Namjoon just eyes your throat expectantly.

Making one sub-collar another is- well-

Hobi's hands stutter, shaky with anticipation as he tries to fit it around your throat. It takes him several tries to get it latched properly. Namjoon’s cock twitches as Hobi looks up for his approval. You push into his hands, purring loudly. No longer displeased at not being filled if you can teeth at the scent gland on his wrist.

Namjoon pulls back and away from you. Heavy cock throbbing and pulsing dully. There is a bit of whiteness, leftover cum, that covers Namjoon’s cock. Milky at the tip and pink. your pussy lips are also red and a bit inflamed from the ceaseless friction of his balls flopping forward and hitting where you’re sensitive. namjoon pries you open with two fingers, showing hoseok that you’re already so wet on the inside, full of Yoongi and Jimin's and Tae’s cum not just Namjoon's.

But not Hobi's, not yet. Namjoon should fix that.

Namjoon lets you go and reaches for Hobi's collar and puts it on him with out a word. so deep down in alpha space that even his teasing goes quiet. He tests the give of the collar, pulling hoseok this way and that until he’s satisfied with it. Hoseok whines at being pushed around, tugged almost until he falls over, but he lets Namjoon do it. Obedient.

Namjoon pulls him over to where he sits behind you, almost between your legs.

Namjoon palms blatantly between your legs checking with a dimply smile to make sure Hobi's watching. You mewl. But Namjoon just grins at Hobi. His fingers still hooked in his collar.

You mewl loudly and Namjoon puts his fingers back where you want them. His words summoned at last. "Oh don't be a brat, alpha's right here pup."

Hoseok's cock twitches at being manhandled, especially when Namjoon slides that hand down Hobi's midline, feeling him up and Hoseok lets him. Hoseok would let Namjoon do anything. he doesn't even flinch or growl when Namjoon pushes his thigh apart and pushes down his boxers. Palming his cock, examining him. Wrapping his big hands around it and testing where his knot will form. where it's already half popped. Rubbing at the sensitive skin and slight bulge with talented fingers that have Hobi panting in seconds.

It gives Hobi no small amount of pride that his hand does not cover all of Hobi's cock. He's still sizable. Hoseok's scent fluffs out a little stronger at that.

Namjoon has one hand in you, hooked into your hole to soothe you, and the other wrapped around Hobi's cock. he has both of his pups, right where he wants them. He tugs at Hobi's cock once, twice.

“Show me then, show the pack alpha that you know to breed.”

Coming Saturday December 28th @ 5pm EST (time Zone Adjustments Below)

[whiteeyes-is-a-mad-scientist]

Too snapping turtle

Who is the current seawing queen? What is she like?

"Queen Isopod is the kingdoms current queen after a seawing ambush killed her mother and sisters. A small and pale seawing with eyes always on the brink of bursting into tears. The crown is awkwardly balanced on her head as its a bit too heavy and bit too big for her.

To summarize, she is completely lost in panic and worry. Some say it was due to the sudden death of her mother and others believe it is because she never wanted nor expected the throne. She was tossed into leadership with no warning. Leadership during a war where all eyes are on you for what to do. An especially heavy crown thanks to Pearl and her... strong... leadership style.

She never leaves the deepsea palace because of these worries. A big reason Argile made the earring...

Many on the seawing council take advantage of this anxious state she is in. As one whisper of possible spies or traitors sends her into a panic, she'll do anything to keep herself safe. I honestly feel quiet sad for the young queen. She had no time to grieve and I fully believe she never left that night her mother died.

More alarming is how her usually shaky run away fear is turning into an angry violent fear. Ive seen long respected generals get dragged away to shark nests for failing to catch someone she found to be threatening.... this isnt her though... it cant be...

Her new council member Prawn has become close to queen... suspicious he is..."

-Snapping turtle

[absolutebl]

Lovesick 2014 versus Lovesick 2024

Rebooting the OG BL, Thailand? Are you sure that's wise?

I don't think anyone is ready for the depths I'm about to go to. But the gauntlet was thrown and comparisons must be made.

Generally when an IP is being remade by a different country I try to cut it slack and evaluate based on fresh eyes and different standards. But this is an actual reboot, not a reinterpretation.

Challenge accepted, Thailand.

A tiny bit of background......

I was one of those who watched Lovesick (LS14 aka the original) early on in my BL journey. No, not when it was airing, but the BL cut when it was first put up on YT (or maybe it was grey first?) hard subbed by fans way back before Netflix picked it up (and then dropped it). So yeah, it's been a while. and I LOVED it. I've rewatched it MULTIPLE times.

I like YA narratives and I enjoy high school BL and that is probably all Lovesick's fault. But nostalgia is a toxic emotion, so I'm trying to give the reboot (LS24 aka the new version) some credit.

But for those who don't know Love Sick is The Original Thai BL. Do not argue. It just is.

The plan is to do a general round up and comparison of broad aspects of script, filming, and acting at the very end, but as it airs I decided to do a "watch off." You ready?

And now......

Boys in Blue Shorts

LS24 Episode 1 versus LS14-s1 Episodes 1, 2, 3, 4 

They did a smart thing tailoring the whole thing down to just the BL thread from the original. And removing the opening party sequence is definitely a win.

However, with less time spent on all the ensemble characters in the opening three episodes, it’s a lot harder to keep such a large cast of characters straight (irony), especially the music club.

Also they materially damage the evolution of Noh & Phun's romance by losing the actual first sleepover and the "eating out with the girls" scenes, which really bonded the two boys in friendship prior to the "water fight crash into me" romantic beginning. By skipping to just the first flush of romance, PhunNoh feels rushed.

* UPDATE!! Spies report in that a lot of the stuff I complain about missing in the 2024 version is in the uncut version on iQIYI. (Which is longer by as much as 25%!) So I am rewatching it there and updating this post accordingly.

We got the entire arc of their first brush with love in just episode one of LS24. Which comes off as fast and cliffs-notes esk. However, it's more in line with modern Thai BL (which is rarely slow burn) and also more sexy and physical, less intimate and emotional. 

I've never liked the first two episodes of LS14, but episodes 3 & 4 are killer. Not to mention important to the plot and to the history of Thai BL.

In the end, because the cutting floor choices impacted the weight and emotional resonance of the main romance thread, I’m (still) going to give this one to the original. But you absolutely must watch the uncut version of the new version, it makes a massive difference.

2014 wins (but only just)

LS24 Episode 2 versus LS14-s1 Episodes 5, 6, 7 

The "Phun sick at Noh's house" is a lot more flirtatious in the new version but I missed the shoulder in the car and Noh snapping at Aim from the original. But I like Noh choosing to be a bolster pillow and offering himself (rather than being coerced), and the near kiss is better in the new version.

The new version also makes Phun more pitiable, like he sees Noh as a place/person of refuge. I like that a lot better for his character (and queerness).

Making Aim’s quandary (and personality flaws) nested in an actual queer crises (similar to Phun's) is a better tactic for sympathy, so this second ep really got me with some nice modernizations.

Phun freezing Noh out strikes hard in both versions but we lost Noh's identity crisis and Phun's crisis of conscience this time around.

The "letting go of the hand" is more powerful in the original, but it was also pretty good in the new one.

I hate to do this but, I have to......

2024 wins 

I say this knowing that the hand in the bookstore is and forever will be one of the most iconic moments in BL history.

If you disagree with me you can, literally, talk to the hand.

LS24 Episode 3 versus LS14-s1 Episodes 8, 9, 10 

The drunken confession, kiss, and the escape to the beach.

No kiss in the new version (which is WILD), but the old version hardly counted either.

In 2024 they have to make Phun have a long term crush and Noh be softer over gay feels to compensate for a tighter timeframe. These changes I don’t mind, but it does modernize the BLness of it all.

I really like that Phun was questioning his own sexuality when he initially asked Noh to fake date, and that the real reason was that he was testing himself. That is, frankly, more realistic to a queer coming of age, and makes the fake dating plot lest stupid. And it makes Phun a more likable character.

The shouting confessions in the new version were really cute too. As was the crying.

But I’m sad that we got no kiss and no back hug or chin down hug.

The original is so much more poignant, and so much more messy and so much more teenage about everything.

I cried in the original and I didn’t in the reboot.

"If it takes no time at all to fall in love, why does it hurt so bad to say goodbye?" 

Whatever way that script is translated, it’s a great line. 

Ep 10 from 2014 is a real dud tho. 

Argh! What to do? This one is a draw. 

No winner. 

An interesting thing about this show i never thought about during my many watches of the original: Phun has a harder time, even though he brought it on himself, partly because Noh is accustomed to being like where Phun is not. Phun, as the rich kid, is used to being envied and admired even respected. But not genuinely liked. The fact that Noh genuinely liked him for him (and not what he has) is a huge reason he can't let go.

I think the newer version showcases Phun's character in general a lot better than the original, and yeah I do think that is partly a superior actor this time around. Sorry, White.

LS24 Episode 4 versus LS14-s1 EPisodes 11, 12 & LS14-s2 Episodes 1, 2 

Earn loans the money and sports day commences.

Necklace drama and Phun’s jealousy, especially in the council room, is better in the new version. It’s just more vicious and petty and appropriate to teenagers. Plus a proper kabedon.

I did miss the face touch, forehead kiss, and “we don’t actually belong to each another” line. 

Argh that was SUCH are great line.

Not to mention the iconic standing in the street:

But, again, the opening eps of season 2 back in 2015 were very much not good, so condensing them down is an improvement.

Decisions, decisions.

No I can't, it's a draw again.

No winner.

LS24 Episode 5 versus LS14-s2 Episodes 2, 3, 4

Sports day continues, Phun thwarts Earn, the overalls scene du jour. 

Earn, the original, remains one of the greatest queer role models ever put into a BL. There is just no contest, sorry not sorry.

He is the King.

The new version has a public shoulder lean plus and epic "MINE" glare. You know I love a claiming.

But the big after party is much better in the old version.

But the switch of Golf’s character to Grace and the reason she left the school is absolutely genius and possibly my favorite change that has been made in the new series so far.

Oh but I really LOVE the drunken bathtub scene in the original.

This is a hard call.

But I simply must give it to the original. (Super props on Gracie tho, nice call 2024.)  

2014 wins 

LS24 Episode 6 versus LS14-s2 Episodes 5, 6, 7, 8, 8, 10

This new version speaks out loud more of the angst and messiness. The original let that simmer and be shown more than it was told. Interesting twist on the video evidence. 

(I love the tiny side couple of tough kid + the dork of the music club. Nice little ship, that.)

And...... We’re done with the beach visit already? The original took 4 eps! Which definitely could’ve been condensed down. Still no sunrise after sleeping in lawn chairs, no confession no nothing. Also lost one of the most iconic lines in all BL by leaving that section out.

It’s a terrible feeling, not knowing where the line is between us.

It’s so good. Hard to forgive the new version for losing it. Not to mention there's no Noh calling Earn to ask for his advice and Earn being torn over what to do with a bisexual crisis. Also "morning kiss krab."

But episode 9 of the original is entirely unnecessary and large chunks of 8 and 10 are as well. I can’t believe I entirely blocked out forgot about the singing competition. I mean, this is me, I always fast-forward through most of the singing stuff, but I forgot this whole part of season two.

Again, I lament the loss of iconic moments from the original script more than anything else, but because of the sheer quantity of superfluous flack in the original, and the fact that the new Phun is the prettiest pouty baby, this point has to go to the new version. 

2024 wins

LS24 Episode 7 versus LS14-s2 Episodes 11, 12, 13, 14

New Phun’s bitch face really is exceptional. I kind of enjoy everybody ribbing the two of them because they have no idea what’s actually going on. 

End of the auditions and the “repairing the couch Earn flirts” scene. Phun v jelly. I do like the way Earn puts it in this one, basically “I can’t fight against you if you don’t even know what you’re fighting for.” AKA you aren’t a worthy opponent. 

He’s nicer in this version. In the original, the confrontation between these two was much nastier. 

I love how Noh consciously winds Phun up in this version. It was really nice to see Noh get a bit of his own back. Of course Phun is sulky about it. He didn’t deserve to be rewarded with Noh’s confession but at least he didn’t let it just rest there, but gave his own back. We lost the problematic “not gay” line in the new version, which is very good. BUT we also lost the original shouting “I like you” across the court for all the nongs to overhear. Which is sad. Plus new version has much less Pete. Original ep 12 was epic.

We lost the phone flirting from the original, which was very cute. So I did very much miss that. 

The party at Noh’s. 

In the original, this has probably the best sequence of scripting in BL history. (Noh & Golf through the door) Where Noh talks about what it means to truly love somebody.

Mostly because they cut that bit out in the new version, I’m afraid I have to give this one to the original.

2014 wins

LS24 Episode 8 versus LS14-s2 Episodes 15, 16

The clip is discovered, the after effects of the party, the showering with Ohm, and the confrontation over Aim.

Okay so the post it love note of sweetness is better in 2024.

The Per/Win story arc never interested me in 2014 and I’m not enjoying it in 2024 either. But Mick & Ohm are better in 2024. Nong Mick is a standout character, and a brilliant glow up in this version. Confident little shit (affectionate). 

Helpful boyfriend Phun was darling. The bits where they are together as a couple really are the best. It’s when the rest of the world intrudes that things goes south.

I absolutely loved Aim's confrontation with her mother in the new version. It was stellar. And something that would never have been depicted 10 years ago.

Ah those classic high school trials and tribulations when your boyfriend has footage of your girlfriend with another girl. We’ve all been there.

Honestly, this is a much more messy and much better break up for Aim and Phun. More dramatic and more public. I like that change. 

All that said we lost Earn and the rejection in the theater. Still this one was an easy call:

2024 wins 

(How crazy, by the way, that as I type this: Ngern is opposite Oat OF ALL PEOPLE in Fourever You, Pineare and Sammy are ALSO in that show, August is finally in a leading role in a different remake, Addicted Heroin, Gunsmile is BACK in a cameo and this is the show he returned too away from GMMTV. We live in wild times.)

LS24 Episode 9 versus LS14-s2 Episodes 17, 18

The music competition ends + the big break up.

I like Earn’s sincerity and open admission in the new version, and I like how genuine and delicate Noh is coping with someone crushing on him. Probably because he knows how painful it is from the other side.

The conversation between Phun and Aim was much better and more kind in the new version, too. 

Noh’s cute pink raver cartoon outfit was everything. 

All in all I’m not wild about the original episodes of this segment. Sure there were a few things that I missed but none that I remembered well enough without the rewatch. So for this and that great communication around the break up: 

2024 wins

Since the number of the old episodes being squeezed into the new version has gone down, I’m assuming they aren’t planning on encompassing all of Season 2 in 2024. I suspect we’re gonna lose the camp in the forest section. Which is a shame, is has some of my favorite scenes.

LS24 Episode 10 versus LS14-s2 Episodes 19, 20, 21

2024 Phun actually turns into Dangerous Babygirl when he is flirting, who knew? (Dangerous Babygirl is a new archetype I have just invented. Yes, I'm pleased with myself.) Noh, who is a nice goodboy, doesn’t stand a chance. Neither does Jeed, since Phun has damn near perfected “back off bitch" face.

The arm drape public claiming, it gets me every time. It has done since SOTUS. I love to see it show back up again in a show that's already harkening back to the early days. It's like they used a trope that wasn't in the original to remind us of the past.

Nong Mick is hands-down my favorite character in the new version. I love him so much I can’t stand it. Consistent Nong King behavior. He uses his cute for evil and I love it.

The dunk tank part is better in 2014 and very funny. The kiss not kiss is a thing (and was a thing at the time) but I'm hoping we get a much better one in 2024 so I wasn't sad to see it left out this time. The one thing Thailand learned before most other BL producing countries was that boys can kiss (but it would take another 3 year and MaxTul to learn 'em good.) The concert at the convent is too long either way, but it’s much longer in the original. So for that alone the original gets docked. You know me and singing. 

That said, Phun stealing Noh from the two girls is pretty epic in the original. Hard to beat. As is Per and the screaming girls. But that Per scene wouldn’t work in 2024 with his character since he's a completely different personality. Also that level of comedy kinda requires Sing to execute.

Finally we get the confession on the agreement become a couple.

Noh is a lot more game and sweet and kind and less awkward in the new version. And since secondhand embarrassment is rough for me I prefer this new one. Sure, it still feels like the 2014 is more authentic to this kind of high school queer experience. (Maybe that’s because Noh's confused awkwardness is old-fashioned and so am I.) But 2024's lap sitting and crying together was truly spectacular.

All in all a hard choice, but I'm afraid I have to say:

2024 wins 

LS24 Episode 11 versus LS14-s2 Episodes 22, 23, 24

Waking up together. first date, the famous piano scene, Yuri's lament + Yuri catches them kissing. 

This is where the teen awkward comes to the front of the class and misspells it's name...... in both versions. And it’s always a challenge to watch because Phun is so ready to come out to the world (despite the fact that he’s more at risk with his family) and Noh is so not ready (despite the fact that we know his family and friends would be happy for him). 

It stands in contrast to their personalities too, Phun who is reserved and introverted, while Noh is cheerful and outgoing. And yet it always felt (and feels) very true to character as well. Noh wants to be liked and he's scared of being teased. Phun is more sure of himself, and with fewer quieter friends.

All the couples are so sweet in the new version where as, frankly, in 2014 one I only ever gravitated to Phun, Noh, Earn, and Pete.

In this episode (11) I enjoy how they're using all these likable side couples to foil our main couple by depicting all the different ways coming out (and being out) can go: from the good to the bad to the ugly. It amplifies the angst and the pacing in this episode and it highlights that both Phun and Noh are correct in their (un)willingness to be openly together. Because they really don’t know what the consequences might be, or even if there are consequences. 

In general, this segement was full of pining, angst, and communication issues and I thought bundled together in 2024 made for a much more tense and engaging sequence than the original. So this was an easy win for the new version (even if I would have preferred a real kiss).

2024 wins 

Also props to wardrobe (HA!) for Noh's off duty outfits. I love his punk goes to Disneyland (with preppy boyfriend) aesthetic.

LS24 Episode 12 & 13 versus LS14-s2 Episodes 25, 26, 27, 28, 34

The away competition, the book carrying, pizza party, meeting the aunt, starting to act like a couple. pun v dad 

I like getting more Phun/Dad conflict backstory in the new one.

But I thought that Noh freaking out and coping with what he had to do to break up with Yuri in the older version was more authentic.

That sad I’ve never been wild about how resistant Noh is in the original to kissing and physical intimacy. That still bothers me, even though I know it’s a sign of the 2014 times. I like the more comfortable physical affection between the two characters in the newer version.

The confession to friend group was good in both versions but 2014 is ICONIC. The teasing Phun was way better than 2014. Still, the physical intimacy was so much better in 2024 so for me......

2024 wins

(close tho)

The matchup is getting a little uneven at this juncture we seem to be jumping around and borrowing bits from other parts.

LS24 Episode 14 versus LS14-s2 Episodes 35

They moved the Pam bit from the end earlier, which is actually a good idea. Although I would’ve removed it entirely. 

They also substantially took steps to fix Phun‘s dad character in the new version. I really liked that a lot. (I guess we know which political party that dad belongs to this time.) 

Honestly? The teaching part (prior to finals) in the original is one of my favorite mini sequences in BL. But the new version was even better. I didn’t think they were gonna beat it out. But they did.

Them sneaking around to sleep together at the camp never gets old. And I mean that, since it’s been 10 years and it still gets me in the throat. So good.

This is a hard call, but if they’re gonna cut out Noh giving Yuri the shirt, and Yuri’s defensive now in the girls bathroom......? The old one is definitely gonna win. As it stands right now I’m gonna give this one to the older version. But a lot of the changes that the new one made I really appreciated so I reserve the right to change my mind after the final ep.

2014 Wins 

LS24 Episode 15 versus LS14-s2 Episodes 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 36

I’m quite pleased that they kept most of the stuff in the forest. And I actually like that they swapped it around so that this was the end of the series.

I think it makes for a better more satisfying ending. I like that they didn’t have Pete pine.

But. Still. Heaven forfend they give us an actual kiss. That part I did find very as disappointing. Frankly, these two would’ve done fine with a smooch.

I don’t know. In the end I think there are points in either version's favor. Neither of these Love Sicks really come out on top.

They’re both kind of representative of their time although this new one managed to be oddly nostalgic in ways that didn’t have to do with the original so much as what they chose to keep about that original.

I think, just because of the iconic nature of that last shot and the breaking of the forth wall that I'm going to hand the final to the original.

2014 Wins

The Leader Board

2014 = 5 points

2024 = 7 points

Other Factors

Script 

When they cut down this show for the new version, we lost some of the greatest and best lines ever scripted in BL of all all time. A few of them could’ve been left in. Because of that, because they didn’t keep the very best parts of the script (which is soem of the best parts of the whole show), despite the fact that they could have...... 

2014 Wins hands down 

Music

The music in the new version was band and unoticicable, but the music in the original was memorable and iconic (if not to my personal taste). Another easy win for the original.

2014 Wins

CAST 

Main couple 

I actually think that the leads in the new version are better actors than White & Captain. I know this comes off as heresy. But I just think they are superior in terms of subtlety and nuance. I also think that the new pair had much better chemistry. It feels like these two were workshopped whereas the originals definitely were not. For couple chemistry, especially at the beginning? 

2024 Wins 

Side couple 

Ohm & Mic had even less screen time than in the original, but not by much. And I have to say partly because of the actor switch between seasons in the original, that I liked this pair a million times better in the new version. 

2024 Wins 

Friendship group

The friendship aspect of the music group (Noh and Ohm's relationship in particular) is incredibly important to this story. Without it, the fabric of the piece feels substantially less robust. Therefore the original has to win in this regard. 

2014 Wins

Noh 

There is something endlessly appealing about the clumsy rawness of Captain's performance in this show. His version of Noh is just so utterly endlessly likable. And he has a genuinely adorable and an appealing screen presence. Progress did a good job, but Captain is just a little bit more charismatic.

2014 Wins 

Phun 

I am a bit of a sucker for a boy who’s good with his eyebrows, and Almond just does better eye work than White ever did. Also he shows and expresses his genuine interest and even attraction in Noh way better, probably in part because of how BL has changed in the intervening decade. But also, sorry White, Almond is just a better actor than you were back then.

2024 Wins 

Yuri 

In the original, Yuri starts out as endlessly annoying, but goes on an incredibly satisfying and quite brilliant character arc to become one of Noh’s best friends and one of the great supporters of his growth and a major linchpin of the show. There’s absolutely no way the newer version could ever compare to the original. 

2014 Wins 

Aim 

While I prefer the actress in the original, I really liked the depth that queerness gave to Aim's character in the new version. It made her a lot more relatable and understandable, even though it was a bit of a copout. It also allowed her to stay part of the narrative. I really like having the mean girl be a lesbian. It makes what she and Phun are doing to each other a little bit more like a mutual beard confusion situation and less like cheating. It’s also more feminist than punishing a female for sexual proclivity. Therefore, I’m gonna give this to the new version. 

2024 Wins

Earn 

This is a really really hard one, since Earn is my favorite character. And possibly one of my favorite characters in all BL. The original source of my ever present second lead syndrome, quite frankly. But, in the end, I can’t deviate, Ngern just set the bar so high. I'm so happy he's returned to our screens.

2014 Wins

Pete 

I know he’s a minor character, but I always  loved poor Pete , and in the original August was one of my favorite actors. (And my number one pick to star in a BL.) I really loved that the new version made both these characters honestly gay, but the original kinda didn’t have that option. Still, despite my love, I’m calling this one a draw since the first Pete won for character and the second Pete won for story. 

No winner 

FINAL TALLY

2014 = 11 points 2024 = 11 points

I swear I didn't intend it to come out that way.

(source)

[peachdues]

full disclosure, one of my favorite dynamics in TGW is not Miko!Reader x any canonical character, but the one between her and the old crone that raised her

“Out all night!” The old woman threw her a withering glare before she returned her attention angrily stabbing at the firewood with her poker. “And no need to ask what it was you were up to! Shameless!” 

Y/N did not answer; she could not, for she was unable to summon any sound in her throat. 

“One would think you’d set a better example for the young girls! You are the heir to this Shrine, and yet you spend your nights having romps in the hay –” 

The head Priestess’s shrill voice melted beneath the loud roaring in Y/N’s ears. She clapped her hand over her mouth in an effort to squash the whimper she felt building in her chest as her lungs constricted and tears welled hot and fast in her eyes. 

“--Do you have anything to say for yourself, anything at all –?”

No, she didn’t. There was nothing she could deny, no barb she could hurl back that was sharp enough. Even if the old woman hadn’t spied them emerging from the garden hut or their tearful goodbye at the gate, as Y/N strongly suspected she had, there still would be no hiding what she’d done. If her empty futon hadn’t given her away, then the rumpled state of her clothes and the rat’s nest that had been made of her hair, certainly would.

All Granny would have to do was tug the collar of her charge’s kosode to the side to see how Giyuu had seared his devotion into her skin.

She couldn’t hide what she’d done, nor would she want to. Nothing she’d done was wrong; chastity wasn’t a requirement for inheriting the Shrine and she’d always known she’d never marry. She couldn’t spoil herself if she willingly offered herself to him, knowing she would never get herself back. Not fully, anyway.

She would not apologize; she did not feel sorry. Not one bit.

Defiant, Y/N lifted her chin high, her nails biting into her palms as she willed herself to become steel; to tell the old crone that she would not say sorry for making a bad example of herself once more.

The moment she met Granny’s eyes, full of anger yet so full of worry, she burst into tears.

[uncleasad]

“Home safe, Kate Bishop.”

So back in Chapter 3 of @the0fi’s lovely Kate Bishop/Yelena Belova fic Red Post-Its (which I read because 1) they’re a fantastic writer and 2) they said you could see a bit of Hosie in there, and, yeah, as promised 👍) there’s a scene involving Kate, Kamala, and Yelena, where Kate hopes certain events don’t end up in one of Kamala’s fanfics. And, well, we never got to see if they did (which I suppose means they didn’t), but my mind wouldn’t let go (never mind I’ve only seen one of these characters!). So a few days ago it gave birth to a tiny little fanfic for another fanfic involving writing fanfic! Fics all the way down! Ficception!

—

“Home safe, Kate Bishop.”

“Home safe, Kate Bishop.”

“Home safe, Kate Bishop.”

“Home safe, Kate Bishop.”

Kamala Khan played those words over and over on her own journey home. She and Kate had planted a trap for a bunch of thugs in a warehouse, and things didn’t go quite according to plan. Nothing they couldn’t handle, really, but a Mysterious Stranger suddenly appeared and provided an unexpected assist…beat the crap out of all of the thugs near Kate. (Well, all but one, who’d managed to knock Kate to the ground.) And then the stranger helped Kate up and uttered those four words before disappearing into the night. “Home safe, Kate Bishop.”

The voice was steady, belying any emotion, but there was something about it…the tone? the cadence?…that made Kamala sure there was more to it. It was accented, Slavic…probably Russian, maybe from Brighton Beach? And definitely female.

Kate had never mentioned a partner. Or a trained friend, for that matter…besides Clint. And this Mysterious Stranger…Mysterious Friend…was definitely too professional to be one of the LARPers. Was she a spy? The newest Marvel’s mind continued to spin, considering the possibilities…this was even better than her fanfiction!

There was definitely an undercurrent of not just concern, but tenderness, in the woman’s voice, Kamala was sure of it. Maybe it was a gut feeling? But she knew she wasn’t imagining it, playing those sounds over in her head again.

When she’d asked Kate, “Who was that?!” the CEO-by-day, Hawkeye-by-night had answered “A friend,” but the smile that took over her face told a different story.

Was Mysterious Friend Kate’s…girlfriend?

Kate’s girlfriend, an international agent, a foreign spy?

That would be one reason for Kate never to mention the woman to Kamala. Not that she thought Kate was doing anything wrong; she was sure the new Hawkeye had thoroughly vetted Mysterious Friend. And not that Kate was in any way obligated to reveal her private personal life, either; they were teammates, not sisters.

The Pakistani-American teen’s imagination began to run wild. Maybe the two met when Mysterious Friend dropped in to help Kate in a fight in a warehouse, not unlike tonight. Ever since then, they’d been passing each other in the city in the way that only spies do. Secret rendezvous in coffee shops, where they stole longing glances at each other across the room, leaving love letters taped to the undersides of their respective tables. Passing each other on the subway, pressed against the windows, cars going in opposite directions. Perhaps one time they both found themselves in a crowded elevator, slowly moving towards each other as the occupants got in and out on various floors; eventually, they were pushed together, shoulder-to-shoulder, in the back, the tips of their fingers touching. And watching over Kate, silently, in the shadows, as she patrolled, perhaps taking out unseen threats to her girlfriend with a thrown knife, never making her presence known. Except Kate would know. She would feel Mysterious Friend’s love radiating through the city, helping to keep her safe.

When she arrived home, Kamala rushed to her room and opened her laptop, starting a new fic. This was too good not to write. She began to type.

“Home safe, Kate Bishop.” Hawkeye had just taken out a nest of petty crooks when a knife-throwing mysterious stranger had emerged from the darkness. The only prior indication of the stranger’s presence had come moments before, when the glint of steel in the moonlight caught a knife in mid-air, a knife that had then embedded itself in the right gastrocnemius of one final crook. He was either trying to escape or to get the jump on the dark-haired heroine, whose back was to the man. Whichever was the case, it didn’t matter to the stranger. Kate Bishop whirled around upon hearing the crook scream in agony and then crumple to the ground. She had an arrow nocked, drawn, and aimed in the direction from which the knife had come, even though she had neither seen nor heard it. When Hawkeye caught sight of the stealth suit emerging from the darkness, she lowered her weapon—and an enormous smile spread across her face. “Thanks,” she greeted the mystery figure softly, the smile being joined by a blush spreading across her cheeks. If the Mysterious Stranger had acknowledged the gratitude, it was imperceptible. The figure then spoke a single line of heavily-accented English, “Home safe, Kate Bishop.” She—for there was no doubt the voice was feminine—then melted back into the shadows whence she had come, leaving Kate Bishop alone with the neutralized crooks. Kate Bishop whose face was hot, red, and giddy. Kate Bishop whose heart was beating rapidly, but not from adrenaline nor from danger. Kate Bishop, whose fingers traced her lips as she remembered the feeling of another set of lips pressed against them. Kate Bishop who, in that moment, was no longer a deadly archer, but instead a besotted schoolgirl. “Home safe, Kate Bishop.” The words echoed in her head as she restrained the incapacitated crooks for the authorities. “Home safe, Kate Bishop.” They followed along with her as she moved through the city. “Home safe, Kate Bishop.” They were not a request nor an order. “Home safe, Kate Bishop.” They were a promise. “Home safe, Kate Bishop.”

FIN

—

No idea what Kamala’s fics might be like, or what her internal monologue might sound like, or, well, anything 😳 But this idea was too good not to write, and that line, those four words, wouldn’t leave my head, so here we are. Enjoy, I hope?

(Now also on AO3.)

[mikaila-orchard]

I had a thought about Spy x Family that I'm not sure either people have ever considered or are ready to accept.

It's the perfect franchise with which to do a crossover with Scooby-Doo. I'm dead serious.

Consider. Mystery Inc. takes a vacation to Ostania because that's just how you do when you're white teenagers in the 60's. They meet the Forgers by happenstance around the time they hear a story about an utterly haunted downtown area. It's actually a part of town that is a nest of secret police and would be terrorist activity. But because they hear ghosts, they're like "Well, gang! Looks like we got another mystery on our hands!"

And from there it's Spy x Family humor and Scooby humor weaving together like the perfect tapestry.

Velma leads the investigation and Mr. Magoo's her way past so many secret police and spies.

Daphne and Yor beat up a room full of mooks together.

Loid is chasing after a target, almost loses them, but then the target gets stuck in one of Fred's Rube Goldberg traps.

Yuri gets dangerously close to catching Loid or Yor in the act, but is waylayed by Shaggy in an extended barbershop skit.

And of course Anya gets into shenanigans with Scooby and Bond.

By the end of it, one or more characters just look at the gang and all their bullshit and go "Who the hell are you!?"

And they go, "According to popular opinion? Just some meddling kids and their dog."

Oh, also whenever anyone asks them about Scooby, they say "That's just how dogs are across the pond."

Also, also the Gang believes every cover story the Forgers give them because of course they do. The Forgers aren't dressing up as ghosts or ghouls to scare people. What reason would they have to lie about anything?

[chief-ravenfeather]

So if a group of Pyros is called a push then what about the others

Edit: a flare of Pyros or flash/flame

For engineers i feel like it should be called a rangle

Edit: a nest being the home of a single engie or a rangle

Soldiers would be categorized as a flock but have their own special name probably a military word like battalion or company

Edit: I would say army but it is kind of on the nose

Spies could be a sneak, like a sneak of spies.

Edit: I like a cloud of spys

Snipers are a lone animal and wouldn’t group up normal but when they do it’s call a mob like kangaroos

Edit: a bush of snipers is also a good one

Scouts is just a swarm, also uses flock

Medics could be a craze also could use flock

Edit:

Demos are an explosion

Edit: Demoknights are a charge

Heavys depend on the type of heavy either its a rush or another for friendlies

Edit: Heavys are a barrage

Thanks to one post now I’m thinking about this.

Also any suggestions for names for funny group names is welcome. I want to draw some of these when I get the chance.

I want to give credit where credit is due so people give suggestions goes here :) Thank you very much for sharing your thoughts.

- @almondrootwc

- @hp-mineccraft

- @ghostwitch145

- @microwavedice

[gortashs-skidmark]

KAR’NISS HEADCANONS and CANON Facts about DRIDERS - for my monster fuckers out there - get out of bed, come get ya’ll’s food -

I used they/them for Kar’niss. They literally canonically do not have genitals. It doesn’t mean they’re non-binary they could have preference but idfk what they go by and being inclusive is fun.

Not proof read. Will be grammatical errors. 18+ MNDI, MATURE CONTENT FAR BELOW WITH FOREWARNING.

CONTENT WARNING: mentions of suicide, gender mentioning, impact of philogynistic Drow society, sterile peenid cum, smut if you read down far enough, self hatred, religious trauma, religion themes, murder, killing, blood suckin’

Canon first, to back up Headcanons

𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕾𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕾𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕾𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴

Okay, let's start with CANON FACTS ABOUT DRIDERS, so ya’ll can dig deeper into the Kar’niss iceberg.

Info Source: Forgetten Wiki Realms

Utilizes 4th and 5th Edition DND lore

CANON

What is a Drider and How Do They Live?

- a Drider by definition is; “drows that had been transformed from the waist down so they had the body of a spider. The transformation was typically a punishment for failing a test of Lolth”

𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕾𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽

- Driders are transformed into Lolth’s Image, supposedly. They are transformed using a Yochlol process.

- Yochlol; “a lesser type of tanari’ri demons also known as Handmaidens of Lolth, although the term “handmaidens” was used rather loosely. The Queen of Spiders had these 8 limbed abominations infiltrate Drow Societies, normally undetected”

- they have four forms available: ooze, humanoid, spider, and gaseous. Their typical (Drider) forms are 8 feet tall and weigh 160lbs. They’re often Black Widow spiders with fangs.

𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕾𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽𝕯𝕽𝕺𝖂𝕾𝕻𝕴𝕯𝕰𝕽

- Driders are canonically sexless!!! Lolth didn’t want to have an army of enemy Drow spider babies against her. Clusters of hundreds of spider babies and colonies aren’t possible. As cute as that is.

- they cannot safely live among Drow Society and are outcasts, they leave after they’re turned.

- They’re violent hunters. They’re filled with shame and fear. Explains his dialogue.

- Most of them are suicidal and want to die in battle bc they’re miserable.

- THEY DRINK BLOOD EVERYBODY. They need to sustain life and drink blood every 4 days. I wonder who the unlucky’s at the tower were.

- usually Drow end up killing drider’s for Lolth. Drider’s are super cautious when dealing with Lolthite Drow.

- immune to all poison, they sap your strength, can poison and paralyze for up to 20 minutes. Their dark vision is shorter than regular Drow. Have really really good stealth. Like crazy good hiding skills. Sometimes they’re spies for Lolth among regular Drow society.

- they have about the same abilities at Lolth Sworn Drow that are blessed. But they’re outcasts.

- THEY ARE KNOWN, to be mentally unstable and it’s hard for them to feel fear. When Kar’niss tells about staying in the light he’s mad not fearful.

- Driders walk like spider but cannot walk on ceilings. They’re too fucking heavy dawg.

- only about half of Driders can spin webs.

- the process of turning into a drider is similar to wyll’s, for visual and mental understanding. And it can be undone with a Wish spell.

- Driders typically live alone, or with 1 or 2 buddies. More rarely they can live in nests of other Driders (heaven forbid you walk into 7 Driders living together)

- calling a Drow “eight legs” is seen as a threat

- it’s possible for Drider Living to be temporary with the spell Spiderform, or specialized spell Dridershape.

What is the Rite of Passage given by Lolth?

- it determines loyalty and strength.

- it’s a battle to the death between Drow. The testée(hehe) and a slightly stronger tester.

- Lolth’s loyalty test was placing the Drow against a friend, family, lover, ally who the Drow trusted. Is your god higher than your relationship? Something of that effect.

- if the Drow didn’t have friends or family, a Cleric of Lolth who wasn’t super into their religion was the tester.

- 3 outcomes; the subject that one took the corpses power for a month, you die and your soul is collected by Lolth, if you don’t win or kill the enemy you’re turned into a Drider.

- Drow can suffer memory loss of the entire event (Shar and Lolth have to be on the same wave length) and then Lolth will accuse them of murder of another Drow, which is illegal in Drow Society. So they’re outcasted.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔

Headcanons

• Kar’niss was turned into a Drider because of betrayal. I think that’s why theyre obsessed with being loyal to their moon lamp. They would’ve been obsessed with Strength if they failed that part of it. (They have 127 hp on explorer dude)

• Drow hate the light, they really do. But Kar’niss loves their lamp like a moth. They are so obsessed with the voice in their head and the lamp they carry. I think the Absolute is their new Jesus, obv, but they didn’t need a tadpole to prove it (although they have one bc you can see inside their mind)

• putting a tadpole in their brain was a loyalty test.

• they lived alone before. I think living around other Drider would’ve slightly improved their mind. Even if they’re all mentally unstable. Suicidal roomies with the same mental problems.

• they still carry some pride, and they’re righteously snide with all the Absolute followers. They’ve found some grace again in the Absolute, after they Failed their Loyalty Test.

• They hate Drow. Completely. Look at what an evil-by-godly-nature did to them.

• can’t have sex. 1) they’re kinda mindless 2) they don’t have the genitals bc of Lolth.

• they can feel intimacy. They do a little spider dance to impress you.

• sometimes you clap your hands to communicate with their tippy taps. It’s your silent language you made with them.

• the shorter extra arms near their abdomen, you find them cleaning and wiping blood off themselves with it. Flicking and wiping in a very spidery manner. Uses it like an extra pair of arms. They’ll hold shit with them if you ask.

• their fractured mind is filled with loyalty, light, and determination. You cannot rip this sucker away from the Absolute. The Absolute accepts all and that’s why they love their new Goddess.

• you could convince The Emporer to give them their own mind but then you’ll have to do recon and emotionally de-attach them from the Absolute.

• if you have Minthara in your camp, and you’re tryin’ to romance Kar’niss, you’re getting twice the challenge. She hates them, and they hate her. They’re not buddies, for a long time. She’s Lolthite and a vengeance paladin.

• They get really offended if you squish spiders instead of gently relocating them out of the way, or just leaving it be. They take it personally.

• They’re not fuzzy. Not one bit. They have a hard shell, shiny and rigid. They’re black-widow adjacent. Their fleshy abdomen and face don’t get poked often but it’s the comfiest part to lay on.

• you could boil their legs like crab meat.

• they have traction alopecia like jojo siwa. Not their fault they have extra eyes.

• some of their eyes are blind, or have near/far sighted problems. They have just okay dark vision but the extra eyes don’t help. You tend to guide them via extra web string or they memorize the way your gait walks.

• females have the worst eyesight, thought both sexes use frequencies disturbance on their webs to see. They use the extra eyes for light and motion, they’re kinda really bad at seeing.

• Kar’niss spins webs, they love to chill in hammocks they spin for themself, and you. It’s super cozy and sticky and warm. They will make intricate woven patterns of webs for you to look at (maybe they’re part orbit weaver). Your favorite is when they leave it overnight to collect dew drops.

• Kar’niss has a super phlemmy hum when they talk, it’s very comforting when you’re against them. They also use it as frequency to communicate with you, the deeper the more dangerous, it almost sounds like a roar when they yell. The lighter and more purr-like, the happier they are.

• they’re really cold. Their hard outer shell, and need to feast on blood (they lack it), means they don’t have blood that pumps through their body. Their webs are warm tho.

NSFW BELOW

¥ Kar’niss can’t fuck you with Spider Dick, but if you really want them to have a sex, then they’re sterile. No Spider babies.

¥ if you do give them a sex, it’s at the lower abdomen on their Drow body. Idk kinda hidden. And it’s cut. (Lolth hates men that’s why I think that). It’s rigid, long, the base gets a hard spider shell.

¥ if you don’t give them a sex, they fuck you with those shorter extra appendages near their abdomen. Those are their extra set of arms (in spider terms)

¥ their nails (fucking claws) are super sensitive. You can’t cut them. They’re more like cartilage, and it’s not unpleasant to be fingered with.

¥ their body is super sensitive and aware. They have that 6th spider sense and they’re good at being quiet, if you ask. You could attempt to pleasure them by stimulating their chest, neck, stomach, certain spots on their spider parts, especially the underside of their spider legs.

¥ they just like to be cuddled and holed up with you. They’re not super fleshy, not terrible comfortable, but they love your soft body.

¥ you let them drink blood from you, sometimes. If you’re into that. Astarion has some competition then.

¥ they’re not poly. Although the spider in them would say other wise, they’re still human most days. They need a lot of attention towards their problems and jealousy is something that comes easy to Kar’niss. Not even up for a one night threesome.

¥ if you’re a girl (she/her), they treat you like you’re above them. It’s natural from their original society. Like it’s a bit weird the way they do it. You gotta talk to them to reassure you’re on the same level. Gotta break that habit. Even in bed you’re like okay this praise is turning in a weird direction.

¥ if you’re a man or they/them, they feel more comfortable immediately. It’s common ground. They do not have to suck up out of habit. Which leads to great sex.

¥ you can feel the cut on their lip when you kiss. You can taste the days of hunger they go without blood. Their nails lightly trace down your back. They kiss you lightly, more often than not.

¥ if they’re kissing you hard, it means in that moment they’re feeling an incredible amount of emotions. You can indulge or take a step back. Kar’niss doesn’t feel a lot but when they do it’s important.

¥ they enjoy it when you praise both of their bodies. They get a little flustered about their spider body but you can show them it’s just as beautiful as the rest.

¥ they’re technically naked at all times. Armor isn’t comfortable. They’re bearing themselves at all times. You have access to their body at all times. By body, I mant pednis nd bawls.

¥ their spider dance, is meant to be mating. It’s gonna charm the pants off of you. It’s like Wyll but more cute-bug-core. With a sense of purpose. They will do different dances, and combine purring/humming frequencies toward you with their taps to woo you.

¥ the spider dancing is a lot of abdomen twitching and hip shaking. It’s a jittery court.

¥ btw fun fact; when jumping spiders wave and kinda dance, they’re signaling others to catch prey. :)

¥ male black widows tend to get eaten after giving their sperm to females, the fact Kar’niss is male, is also pretty rare. They should’ve been eaten by a female by now. When you eat their cum it’s alarming on a spider sense level. They know their sterile but like you’re supposed to store it in your body until you want babies. Which is also not possible unless you’re gith. And Kar’niss is sterile, by the grace of Lolth.

¥ Kar’niss was supposed to be a one night stand. Black widows are incredibly solitary, and only meet up to breed, and possibly be eaten after. They feel lust, but they’re not expecting feelings from you after. The fact you even want to breed with a freak like them gets them all giddy and prepped.

¥ after mating, Kar’niss does feel inclined to try and woo you again. A dance, a dinner, play music, give presents (webbed prey neatly wrapped on your tent step). Thought incredibly spooked. They don’t know how you’ll respond.

¥¥¥Don’t bite them during sexy time it scares the fuck out of them.¥¥¥

¥ I am making them out to be very spider like but they’re also just as human. They hum music, sit/looks like crouching on their legs. They can be playful if you open them up. They find comfort in touch and words.

𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚔𝚊𝚛'𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚔𝚊

Checkout my Tiefling Canon Facts for fanfic writers and fanartists! more stuff like this coming soon :) or my masterlist <3

Currently working on; He Who Was Headcanons with Shadar'kai facts and events

[bestiarium]

The Tsenahale, the ancient giant eagles [Navajo mythology]!

In the distant past, humans were hunted by a group of giant, terrifying monsters collectively known as the Naye’i. Though mankind persevered, they were spread thin and had to live in hiding and in fear. The Naye’i were a diverse group of strange monsters, all of which enjoyed hunting and eating humans. Among them were the Tsenahale, a pair of colossal bird monsters somewhat resembling giant eagles.

They were born from a pile of eagle feathers and they enjoyed grabbing people with their enormous talons and carrying them to the nest, where their unfortunate victims would be eaten by their young. The Tsenahale employed ravens as spies, and these minions told them the hiding spots of humans.

One day, a group of gods and humans came together on a mountaintop and performed a ritual upon two small images of a woman: one made of turquoise, the other made out of a white shell. The group sang a magic song and turned these two small images into real women, fashioning a body for both out of deer skin, corn and magic. These two women were named Estsánatlehi and Yolkaí Estsán, meaning ‘changing woman’ and ‘white shell woman’ respectively. They were left on the mountain, clueless and lonely, but after four days they began to explore their surroundings.

Estsánatlehi, the elder sister, was impregnated by the sun while her sister was impregnated by a waterfall. Four days later, both siblings realized they were pregnant, and another four days later they gave birth to two baby boys, which would later be called the Hero Twins of the Navajo people. As the sisters were not human, neither were their sons, and in only four days they had reached the age of twelve.

As the boys grew older, they longed to meet their father and set out on a journey to find him. Along their travels, they met the spider spirit, a kind old lady who told them that they were fathered by the sun. Spider gave the two young men a magic charm made from eagle feathers, which were potent because they were plucked from living eagles. She also taught them magic to prepare them for their quest, and so they set out to find the sun. This journey is an important story in Navajo religion: the hero twins overcome many challenges and strange creatures using wit (rather than strength), Spider’s magic and the protection from the wind, which had grown fond of them.

Eventually they reached the house of Tsohanoai, the sun god. They found his wife and told him that they were fathered by the sun.

When Tsohanoai came home (and hung the sun on a rack on his wall), he was angry at the intruders, who were too afraid to say anything. This silence was then broken by his wife, who was furious at her solar spouse. After all, if these two young men were indeed his sons then it meant he had been unfaithful to her. So Tsohanoai made them pass a series of deadly trials to prove that they were indeed children of the sun god, and they succeeded using the help of the wind and their eagle feather charms. Tsohanoai admitted defeat, these two lads were indeed his children, and so he armed them with magical weapons so that they could set out and slay the Naye’i. The boys received armor made from flint, an enchanted stone knife, and a series of powerful magical arrows. Upon returning to the world of mortals, one of the twins shot a lightning arrow at the Tsoodzil (which is called Mount Taylor today) and made a large cleft which is still visible to this day. And so, the two heroes set out to fight the Naye’i.

After successfully killing two of the giant beasts, the older brother left to fight the giant eagles, the Tsenahale, which made their nest on a tall black mountain which was shaped like a bird. He had received the name Nayenezgani from his brother, meaning ‘slayer of the Naye’i’. Before arriving at the nest, however, he heard the mighty sound of the monster’s wings, which sounded like a whirlwind, and the beast grabbed the boy in its talons. The Tsenahale dropped its prey from a great height, and the fall would surely have killed Nayenezgani if he didn’t have Spider’s magic feather charm.

Clever as always, the hero decided to play dead until the monster’s children approached him and tried to eat him. Nayenezgani hissed and the giant chicks recoiled, telling their father that this human was still alive and had hissed at them. The monster ignored it and told them that no human could survive a fall like that, so they probably just heard the sound of air escaping from the corpse.

Then the Tsenahale left and Nayenezgani immediately got up and pointed his magical arrows at the chicks. He demanded to know when their parents would return, and where they usually landed. The young birds told him everything he wanted to know, and so Nayenezgani set up an ambush. When the male and female Tsenahale returned, he knew exactly where they would land and shot them with lightning bolt arrows.

Upon seeing their parents dead, the chicks were terrified, but Nayenezgani was wise and thought it would be unjust to kill them too. Instead, he used his magic to turn one of them into an eagle and told it ‘You will provide bones for humans to craft whistles, and feathers to use in their ceremonies. The other chick was turned into an owl and Nayenezgani said to him ‘your hooting will be used by the humans for divination’. And so, instead of growing up to be man-hunting monsters, the chicks were turned into animals that were useful for mankind.

Now the beasts had been slain, but the slayer was stuck in the giant nest with no way to reach the ground below. As luck would have it, the bat spirit happened to pass by and offered to help the young man down in exchange for the feathers of the Tsenahale. Bat put these feathers in her basket, and Nayenezgani warned her not to enter the nearby sunflower field while carrying the monster feathers. Bat ignored his warnings, however, and as soon as she set foot among the sunflowers, all the feathers turned into birds and a large variety of birds suddenly flew out of her basket and dispersed among the world. And that is why there are so many bird species today.

Bat, having no feathers left to embellish herself, was so ashamed of her appearance and decided to never go out during the day. And that is why bats are nocturnal animals.

Sources:

Whitman, W., 1925, Navaho tales, Houghton Mifflin, 217 pp.

Locke, R.F., 2001, The Book of the Navajo, 496 pp., p.102-120.

Feltes-Strigler, M., 2023, A la découverte de la terre sacrée des Navajo – Histoire, légendes et paysages de la Terre-Mère au Ciel-Père, Tredaniel, 249 pp.

(Image source 1: The Giant Eagle by Hurcem Kucukdogan)

(image 2: the hero twins, source: Melvin Bainbridge)