#insects my dearly beloved

[wyyrmwood]

New canvas goofin

[gtgbabie0]

✧The gentleness of your love✧

{you give Helaena a gift}

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The gardens of the red keep are the only place in kings landing where you feel at somewhat peace, where you’re not weighed down by politics, it’s the only place where you and Helaena can love freely without the prying eyes of the court.

You watch in admiration as the Princess Helaena scans the pages of her encyclopedia, how her face lights up when she turns to a page about her favorite little critter or how she smiles gently as she reads new information, you couldn't help the slight stutter of your loved filled heart as you took in her beauty, the way her hair framed her pretty face, how her skin glows beneath the afternoon sun and the gold that was woven through her blue dress brought out the color of her eyes, you sigh lovingly, how can someone be so perfect?

"Good afternoon Princess Helaena" you tease bowing at her as she chuckles at you softly, rolling her eyes at your silly antics.

You were highborn yourself, and your house has supported house Targaryen for generations you had grown up in the red keep as a result of this and you often found yourself thanking the gods, old and new, for granting you with such luck because without it you would have never met your lovely Helaena.

"Good afternoon my butterfly" she smiles gently as you take a seat next to her on the blanket she had neatly placed down over the lush grass, the princess leans into your side placing a quick shy kiss on your cheek before quickly busing herself with her book.

“No need to be shy now Helaena” you giggle tucking a stray piece of her soft blond hair behind her ear as your thumb gently grazes her pink cheeks, “No one is around” you whisper as she leans into your touch.

Helaena doesn’t mind it, your gentleness has always brought her much comfort, so she finds herself filled with want and desire when your lips finally find hers, so much so that she pulls you closer, she doesn’t want to let go, ever.

However the kiss comes to a soft end, the both of you smiling widely with pure joy, “Before I forget— I had a jeweler make this, for you” you softly whisper suddenly feeling awfully bashful as pull the small velvet bag you kept hidden beneath the many layers of your dress.

“You didn’t have to” she giggles as you insist, urging her to open the small purple bag, you watch as her nimble fingers pull the string open how she ever so carefully takes out the Valyrian steel necklace, gasping softly at the butterfly that adorns the chain and the beautiful blue Larimar gemstone that sits within the wings of the insect.

You smile as she gently caresses the charm between her thumb and forefinger, “It’s beautiful— thank you dearly” she whispers as you shuffle closer to her, telling her how happy it made you happy to see her smile, “Would you?” She asks handing you the necklace.

“I would be glad to my dear love” you take the butterfly necklace from her warm hands as you move to sit behind her, gently moving her hair to one side of her shoulder bed draping the Valyrian steel around her neck gently, your fingers grazing against her skin ever so slightly as goosebumps raided her skin, closing the clasp you sit in front of Haleana, and suddenly your breath catches in your throat.

The way the steel shines in the afternoon sun, how the blue of gemstone in the shape of a butterfly glows against her collar bones bringing the beautiful color of her eyes out, she’s so ethereal it makes you completely breathless, you can’t help but feel a little flustered at the sight of your beloved Haleana.

“You are simply breathtaking my lovely” you gush kissing her pink cheeks, her hands coming to cup your face.

“As are you my butterfly” she smiles giddily at you before enclosing her lips on yours, bringing you into a sweet heavenly kiss.

She lays down on the blanket, her head resting against your lap as she hands you the book she was reading, “Read to me?” She asks with a hopeful look in her eyes.

“As you wish Princess,” you say taking the book from her and reading about all types of facts about different insects, here in the gardens of the red keep everything is perfect, no bother with politics just your love for each other.

If the people of the faith looked down on your and Helaena’s love then why did the gods make it so sweet?

The gardens of the red keep are the only place in kings landing where you feel at somewhat peace, where you’re not weighed down by politics, it’s the only place where you and Helaena can love freely without the prying eyes of the court.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

☾⋆AN/ I’m currently reading fire and blood and it’s a lot.

Anyway I think Helaena is so interesting I hope they explain more of her character next season because she’s amazing!! Hope you enjoy~~ <3

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Girls Group 2 Round 3 Match 7

SUBMISSION PROPAGANDA:

Nausicaä -

"She falls into the 'weird girl who can strangely talk to animals' category of autism. She has a connection to the toxic jungle and the insects that live in it, but also to the other animals that live outside of it, like her fox squirrel Teto. She manages to calm him down while he's freaking out. She's also a hashtag girlie in stem. She's researching the toxic jungle, and managed to discover that it's not the plants that are toxic, but the soil itself. She has a whole underground laboratory hidden under her castle where she grows the plants and observes them. She's extremely compassionate and headstrong. When someone disagrees with her she just. Stares at them and smiles until they relent. She has expressed feeling more at home in the jungle than with other humans, feeling like she's not a human herself. There's a scene in the movie where she lays down on the ground and cries because she loves the sand so much."

Mai -

"I need you to understand how utterly flat of affect this girl is. I need you to understand that nine times out of ten she communicates nonverbally and almost never shows emotions in any blatant or obvious ways. Even when she does explicitly show emotion on her face it's incredibly slight and subtle. And you want special interests? Her special interests is playing pranks on people. Her special interest is fucking around. With you specifically. She shows affection towards her friends by fucking with them. She loves them dearly and at the end of the day shows that. She's probably queer. She loves dogs. She's The weirdgirl in a show where everyone including the male characters are weirdgirls. And did I mention her affect is flatter than a board? Mai Nichijou my beloved."

[calamity-unlocked]

Whatever happened to "A Theory In Butterflies and Other Insects"? Noticed it's at 19/20 and hasn't been updated since last year.

Apologies if you've been asked this before

It's been asked before, but I don't mind!

Two things happened to atobaoi; first my gap years were over, I moved out, went to college, the whole shebang. I have considerably less time for personal projects than I did back then. The other reason is that my mental health took a nosedive and I've been suicidally depressed for over a year now. Little hard to focus the creative energy into such a huge chapter of a show I am not really invested in anymore.

Process is about 20% - I have everything outlined and the first two scenes are fully written. It'd probably be about 20-25k when finished. I do still plan on finishing it.

Honestly, now that my previous hyperfixation has mostly died down, there's a big chance i'm picking it up again soon. Writing is surviving for me, and atobaoi is my dearly beloved. Can't say when, though. Might be two months, might be two years.

If you, or anyone else for that matter, don't want to wait that long, feel free to DM me and ask about my outline, I'll happily give you the details for how it will end.

[puella-peanut]

So I have some questions regarding your silverusso Lead Us Not Into Temptation drabbles which live rent free in my head and which I am obsessed with. You say so much with saying so little, and I just ankdjsksns. 

So: How did Terry and Daniel meet? Terry was a priest-in-training right? What made him interested in religious life? Why is being an altar-server so important to Daniel? Is it because he likes it, or because he's with Terry? I get the impression that Church/parish life is a big deal to Daniel and also his Mom. Why though? Kreese is so sinister in this, really in a less is more way. He says that priests aren't what they used to be, but something with Johnny apparently happened a long time ago (??) “The Lawrence incident happened when you were Parish Priest,” Silver says sharply, but Kreese remains unfazed.WHAT INCIDENT??? WHAT HAPPENED?? He also just laughs when Terry tells him he won't hurt Daniel. Damn Kreese. So is sexual abuse happening/has happened in this parish? Rosary beads click nearby—less like prayer, more like pincers of a terrible insect, Silver thinks. He watches how the candlelight hones Kreese’s weathered face into something foul. Amazing lines and imagery. So dark and sinister in such little words. how come Kreese is still at the parish if he did sexually abuse Johnny? 

Why are Daniel and Terry so close? Why isn't Daniel's mom or anyone else concerned about the inappropriate relationship between Terry and Daniel? Why is Terry so into Daniel, and why not someone else? (not that i want that lol) Nothing has happened between them yet...right? What will happen? 

Wow, thanks a lot, Anon for the kind words! You have some really great questions here with regards to this drabble set of mine. Definitely made me think!

Here we go! (Long under the cut)

How did Daniel and Terry meet? 

After the death of Mr. LaRusso from liver cancer, eight year old Daniel and his Ma move from Reseda, California, to The Bronx, New York City for Lucille's new job.

The LaRusso's are very much on the lower end of the working-class, getting by on food stamps, social services—and later on, assistance from the Church. Their home in the Bronx isn't really the best place either to live or to raise a vulnerable little boy, and Lucille worries about this very much.

But there's not much she can do as a widowed woman with a simple factory job in the 1950s, later 1960s. So, staunch Roman Catholic that she was raised, she does what she always does, and moreso in times of trouble—she clings to the Lord. She clings to the Church.

Naturally, within two days of their arrival, she takes Daniel with her to do the rounds in their new neighborhood—and find a Church. They do fairly quickly; stumbling across a beautiful stone building with stained glass saints peering into the dirty street. Upon entering, Lucille kneels down to pray for the dearly departed soul of Mr. LaRusso, say a decade or two, and maybe go to Confession while she's there. She does not notice little Daniel slip away while the rosary beads slip through her fingers. He gets lost, and after wandering around a while, eventually finds a small, candlelit chapel. He's tired, he’s overwhelmed by everything—this new state, his new home, this new Church, and of course, the loss of his beloved father. He starts to cry and that's when young Terry—Seminarian Twig—stumbles upon him.

He hears the child first, and then sees, in the flickering candlelight, a tiny, miserable figure in patched overalls and old shoes. Twig takes a step towards the boy both in curiosity and in an attempt to comfort him, and then the child looks up—and Father in Heaven, those eyes. Tear filled; dark, long lashed and large. Reminding him of a fawn. He approaches him very slowly and the boy watches him, sniffling. Twig's shadow falls on the child even as he sits down beside him. He places a hand on his tiny shoulders. 

“What is it, little one?" he asks softly, reaching in his cassock's pocket for a handkerchief to wipe the boy's face. "Why are you crying?"

The boy looks up, lets his face be wiped—and tells him. 

A little while later, Lucille hears footsteps approaching, one pair evenly paced, the other half skipping, half walking. She turns around and sees her boy holding the hand of a very tall young man. A priest? A Seminarian? She begins to rise, but then Daniel runs up to her with a bright smile and a warm hug, and says, stumbling over his pronunciation and forgetting to keep his voice down, "Ma, Ma, this is Sin-narian Terry!" 

And before she can gently scold him for running off, Terry steps forward and oh-so-charmingly and kindly introduces himself. Lucille finds herself rather warming to this young man who has, apparently, been so good to her little boy. She can't help but smile. 

That’s the first mistake. 

Terry was a priest-in-training right?  What made him interested in religious life?

Yes, he was a young Seminarian when he met eight year old Daniel, and already in possession of a Bachelors in Theology. He was, at that time, earning a Masters, and working towards becoming a Diocesan Priest (which he is currently when the drabbles take place).

Terry, then Twig, was the child of dirt-poor Irish immigrants who were staunchly Catholic. Just like Daniel, he spent hours in Church growing up, soon enough considering it a second home. As a child, he served as an altar-server, and later on the Church pianist; still later on lending his time as a Sunday School teacher, and an after school caretaker—being good with schoolwork and kids. He himself went to the connected Jesuit school on a scholarship where he was an excellent student, and took an interest in religious life, helped also by his deeply pious parents who encouraged him to think of a vocation. 

I will say that Twig was more interested in the Theology, Doctrine, and history of the Church from a scholastic and intellectual viewpoint (being very brainy)—the religion part came rather second, though the idea of life after death and eternal-life was appealing. If he wasn’t raised so staunchly Roman Catholic, I feel he would be a deeply philosophical, and even spiritual, agnostic. 

(It also helped that Twig never had any interest in girls whatsoever, Anon, so marriage never interested him.) 

Why is being an altar-server so important to Daniel? Is it because he likes it, or because he's with Terry? 

Daniel doesn’t have much going for him, Anon. He’s from a very poor family, he goes to a rundown public school where he’s bullied, sometimes, when he can’t make himself invisible enough—and he’s often alone, what with his Ma working such long hours for such little pay. There’s nothing much to keep him entertained, no one who really pays him attention, and cuddles and pets this sweetheart like he so craves. He is his Ma's light and joy, but she's bone tired almost always, and has very little energy left for her son.

Daniel does like attention; he enjoys being in the spotlight for reasons that aren’t associated with bullying, or his poverty. But he also is genuinely a sweet child with a kind heart, and loves to reach out and help where he can. He likes that he can do things at Church to help out, may it be gluing endless paper stars for the background of the children's nativity, or arranging the flowers in the sanctuary, or helping the First Communicants prepare for their First Holy Communion. It makes him feel needed. Necessary. 

And Terry—excuse me, Father Silver—is someone who has always made room for Daniel from the start. Has never made Daniel feel like the outsider he is in most other places. One could say that Daniel feels most at home with Father Silver because he has made himself into this comforting—if powerful—presence. And well, Daniel simply loves being by his side, Anon. Loves being...wanted. It makes Daniel feel...well, good, knowing that the now Parish Priest still makes time in his busy schedule for seventeen year old boys who have nothing to offer him but themselves. 

I get the impression that Church/parish life is a big deal to Daniel and also his Mom. Why though? 

In difficult times, people often find something to cling to, to comfort them. For some, it is friends or family. Others, their work. Still others liquor, or drugs. For Daniel and his Ma, the Church and the Lord were there before them, and will remain long after. They are constant, a rock; unchanging, enduring, and eternal. After their lives changed so abruptly when the beloved Mr. LaRusso passed, Church and God still remained as immutable as ever. That's a comfort like nothing else. An anchor grounding them both. 

But the Church, especially in those times, was and is so much more than just a place of prayer and worship! It’s a school, a place of socialization, community events and gatherings, baptisms, weddings, funerals. Picnics, get-togethers, community reach-out, a confidante, a place of help in times of need and trouble, a food pantry, a place of social-aid, religious education and tutoring, a place of music and concerts, travel (pilgrimages), gossip...etc. 

Kreese is so sinister in this, really in a less is more way. He says that priests aren't what they used to be, but something with Johnny apparently happened a long time ago (??) “The Lawrence incident happened when you were Parish Priest,” Silver says sharply, but Kreese remains unfazed. WHAT INCIDENT??? WHAT HAPPENED?? 

I can't say for sure what the incident in question was, Anon. For all we know, it could have been a simple misunderstanding that escalated into something well-publicized between Father Kreese and Johnny Lawrence (who was a seventeen year old teenager at the time—the same age as Daniel is in the drabbles, oddly enough). It also, however, could have been something of the far more sinister variety—it might have been grooming, blatant sexual abuse. It might even have been that either Father Kreese or Johnny saw something the other was doing and took it the wrong way (or the right way!), and it ended up as quite the scandal when they told. 

...I will say this though, Anon. 

Johnny Lawrence is currently in jail. He will be for a long time. His life is over, pretty much. What did he do? I’m not sure. Is he innocent, wrongly accused? Is he the guilty party? Was he justified in what he did? Who can say? But something happened to make him turn out the way he is, and/or do what he did—I’m just not sure what that something is. 

He also just laughs when Terry tells him he won't hurt Daniel. Damn Kreese. 

Damn Kreese indeed, Anon. 

So is sexual abuse happening/has happened in this parish?

I left this ambiguous on purpose, Anon. It’s up to you to draw your own conclusions. 

Rosary beads click nearby—less like prayer, more like pincers of a terrible insect, Silver thinks. He watches how the candlelight hones Kreese’s weathered face into something foul. Amazing lines and imagery. So dark and sinister in such little words. 

Thank you! 

how come Kreese is still at the parish if he did sexually abuse Johnny?

But we don't know what Kreese did, Anon! Only he and Johnny know what really happened (though Terry knows a lot more than even Kreese suspects), and that was several decades ago, and now more of a lingering, hazy memory for their Parish. (And Johnny's in jail so he can't say anything, can he?) Father Kreese managed to find a way to stay on somehow. Though he was removed from his role of Parish Priest for "the incident", which ruined his ambitions of becoming Bishop, then Archbishop, leaving him a bitter man—though still smug that he still managed to stay at the Parish while Mr. Lawrence got the short end of the stick. Ha. 

For all intents and purposes, Father Kreese is an elderly man now, and has been retired for a while. The Parish has half forgotten him…

Why are Daniel and Terry so close? 

Perhaps it’s due to the fact that Daniel’s father passed away when he was so young that has had something to do with the way he’s latched onto Terry, Anon. Terry came into Daniel’s life when he was a child, vulnerable, sad—and lonely. It was easy to make such a lasting impression when the aforementioned things carved such deep holes into Daniel, and left those areas raw and exposed. Longing to be patched up and filled. At that time, Terry didn’t seek to do this deliberately and have the boy cling to him. It just...happened. Terry, and by extension, the Church, offered Daniel friendship, comfort. Attention. Affection. In the Church, Daniel found routine, stability. A home away from home, and somewhere that was warm and welcoming. In Terry, Daniel found a wonderful mixture of a father-figure, an older brother, a mentor, and also a friend. It would be odder if they weren’t close at this point, Anon. 

Why isn't Daniel's mom or anyone else concerned about the inappropriate relationship between Terry and Daniel? 

But...what exactly is inappropriate, Anon? That Father Silver—well-loved Parish Priest, charismatic, kind, brilliant, surely he can be a bishop, even a cardinal someday, and so handsome that some ladies think to themselves after Mass what a pity it is that he is celibate and cannot marry—has taken little Daniel under his wing? This poor boy with no father, and a mother who is more ill nowadays than not—yet who remains so adorable and precious. Little sunshine. What's happened except Father Silver being so kind and a comfort to the child; remaining a mentor and a friend? Teaching him, doting on him, advising him? A shining example of a man in this boy's life, especially during those turbulent teenage years when all boys need a father, a leader. A man. No, Lucille is so very grateful to have this excellent Priest take a shine to her sweet, fatherless boy. 

...Though certainly Anon, the elderly of their Parish still remember the scandal between the now retired Father Kreese and that angry, violent blond boy, what was his name? James, Jamie or something. They never did know what exactly happened, but it was much talked about and publicized, those awful Protestants and godless atheists having a field day with their beloved Parish!!—and certain sour naysayers still wag their tongues either which way. But even the elderly cannot deny Father Silver's spotless reputation and charming demeanor. No, no; all they think when they see Father Silver and little LaRusso side by side is that all growing boys need a man like that in their lives! 

(Father Kreese's opinion rather differs on the matter. Make of that what you will.)

Why is Terry so into Daniel, and why not someone else? (not that i want that lol)

Oh Twig, my Twiggy. He was never popular growing up; he was poor, plain (until he wasn't), socially awkward, and also a first generation Irish-American (a terrible combination for those times), and didn't have a friend to his name. A constant outsider. He therefore buried himself in his studies, in his music, in his Church life. He knew where he excelled, and being ambitious and proud, chose to develop his brain rather than his social life. He had acquaintances, not friends. He was close to no one, not even his parents, and who had both passed by the time he was nineteen. That was another reason he was drawn to the more solitary life of priesthood, as he was more or less used to being alone. That was also why he was drawn to Daniel LaRusso; another outsider, looked down on for being Italian, fatherless, poor, unambitious true—but dedicated, hardworking, and loyal. And so sweet it nearly hurt. 

(And well, Daniel has always been almost painfully cute, but as of late, has turned into such a pretty little thing. Oh dear.)

Nothing has happened between them yet...right? 

Unless you're counting Father Silver's lingering touches and Daniel's increasing confusion—then no. 

What will happen? 

Oh, Anon.

Anon. 

[dreaming-for-an-escape]

My Heart, My Body, My Soul chapter 11 Sneak Peek! Also, yes, I canon Helaena as Asexual in my story :)

Helaena’s stitching came to a stop. “Aegon?” She softly called out, lilac eyes blinking rapidly.  

Aegon acknowledged Helaena by sending a hand wave without even looking at her. His violet gaze lingered on the twins. His eldest son and only daughter were looking at him with tilted heads and similar expressions of wonder. His youngest son would have probably done the same but he was asleep in the cot near Helaena. Aegon cleared his throat, struggling to find the words before he went onward with his search.

“Brother, why are you here?” Helaena questioned with no attitude, only confusion.

Aegon had made it perfectly clear once Maelor was born that he no longer wanted to bed her. For Helaena it had been a most wonderful day hearing him say so because she wasn’t eager to bed him again either.  

Truthfully, Helaena had never been eager to bed Aegon, and the desire never came with wanting to do that with anyone else. During those few times they laid together there’d been no pleasure on her end, just as she knew Aegon took no joy either when being with her. Although she knew his reason was because he’d rather bed other women.

During their moments of intimacy, Helaena would close her eyes and think about being in the royal gardens, out in the sun and fresh air, reading about her beloved insects. She got more joy out of that than being with her eldest brother. But as much as she dreaded the marriage bed, Helaena needed to endure it for duty as explained by her mother from a young age.

Aegon’s drunkenness, although disliked by her and many others in court, at least made the venereal act quick those few times they were together. Now Helaena had three children, two boys and a girl. Having not one, but two sons meant she didn’t have to worry about repeating the intimate act.

Helaena loved her children dearly, and would forget at times that Aegon was their father. It was a fairly easy thing to do since her brother didn’t spend as much time with them.

Therefore, the princess was confused as to why her brother barged into her chambers while their children were also present, and watched with perplexion as he threw around her personal belongings as if he were looking for a certain item.

[thefroggypond]

hey. hey. heyyyy. ❇, ☁, and/or 📎 for insect plzzzzzzz

hab gift of fren as well 🪲

HALLO HALLO

insect my beloved i love them so dearly i- *puts them through the horrors*

❇️- their most prized possession (aside from blip, their lil robot frog) is this old journal that belonged to their creator. it’s all they have left of him and they keep it hidden away most of the time just in case something happens. aside from that they also value their friends n family n such -w-

☁️- they do these little robot beep/chirp noises when they’re happy :3. think the cat activation sound but. robot (the spine hears them all the time but you didn’t hear that from me no sir)

📎- their blue matter core is on their back. nobody really knows why it just. is back there. they have a cover for it that’s in the shape of a beetle though so that’s cool :)

and thank u for the friend.

🪲🫐

he has snacks now

[sheepon]

I'm stuck thinking about bugs!! Hobby entomologist rant!!!

When I move I have to leave my collection behind for biosecurity reasons, so I'm looking up info on collecting etiquette for Tasmania. The laws, permits needed, etc. In the US, there are plenty of state parks and forests that are chill with you insect collecting, foraging, and sometimes even taking plants home to plant. In Tas, it looks like this is very much not the case. I'm left thinking about my hobby. I love it. I love catching bugs, I think it's a ton of fun. I love spending time pinning them, the care it takes and being able to see all kinds of detail on them that's so much harder to see from afar. I love that it gets me out in nature, I love spotting new ones, I love that it makes me research and ID them. And as I've starting collecting only very sparingly now that it's not for classes, I love that each specimen reminds me of a time and place. I hold so dearly the funny little guys from my sand dunes trip in Colorado the other year! I will miss them :c tachinid fly, my beloved... On the other hand, I am killing living things for hobby. I am selfishly taking lives in order to obtain their bodies. On the other other hand, I've got excuses in my brain. I'm labelling everything meticulously so I can donate them when needed! And insects are r-selected! There are so many, because so many will die anyway! And I kill so, so many more insects when I drive my car out to go hiking, or when I walk around, or when I accidently let one fly into a building it'll never find its way out of. Really I guess I'm just uncomfortable because I want to keep doing this hobby even though I know it's kind of selfish and maybe wrong. And I have a gut feeling that maybe Tasmanian bug nerds might maybe look down on me for it. It feels like it'd be more forgivable if I at least had a spine about it. It's not lost on me though, that I don't really feel bad about fishing. Somehow it's forgivable if you at least are going to eat what you kill. Even though that means I'd kill more trout in my lifetime than I'll ever kill any single species of insect. Ough.

[riddlecrux]

our souls are knit into one II

Chapter I (ao3), Chapter II (ao3), Chapter III

Summary: A trapped wolf would bite its paw to escape the trap, but Lyrra can only tremble when the dragon’s grumble grows louder, closer to her small person. The ground shakes when its enormous body stops, awaiting its master command. She can feel the heat, crippling her with dread when the darkness suddenly changes into blazing inferno - the roar of the animal almost shattering her eardrums. Even if she feels herself jerk, she doesn’t move. The ridges of her spine go rigid, cold tremors travelling along the whole length of her.

Please check the tags on ao3! If you wish to be tagged on the upcoming chapter, please leave a comment.

vi 

These days, after the peculiar scene at the training grounds, Helaena and Lyrra gained a third companion to their daily endeavors. At first, he stumbled upon their reading session - his leather jerkin basking in the sunshine as he sharpened his sword. He hadn’t said a word, but whenever Lyrra paused at the story she was reading aloud, she could feel his eye upon her. Searching and probing. A thrill of unease seemed to cocoon her as she tried to make herself invisible, as much she could. Then, the second prince started appearing in the princess’s chambers with a lazy excuse of seeking solitude - she would catch him staring at her hands while she embroidered small dragons along the handkerchiefs. His presence was oppressing, not in an unkind way, rather than that in a more powerful one. Wherever he went, the air seemed to change - her lungs contorting under the heavy quality of his persona. 

She would always pretend he wasn’t there. 

But glancing at the sea and ships with him on her right side, unnerves her. 

Looking to the other side, she sees Helaena observing ants on the stone balustrade. A content smile on her face, as if she didn’t care about anything around her. Her silver hair blowing on the gusts of wind create an otherworldly image of her family beauty succession. 

‘What do you see whenever you look at those ships?’ The princess’s airy voice stops the surrounding them melancholy. ‘You do that often,’ she adds, playing with tiny insects. 

‘I make up stories,’ Lyrra half laughs, twitching her hands in front of her. ‘If the sailor is leaving his family or if some blindsided lover ventured on the deck to return to his beloved,’ she closes her eyes and inhales. His scent is overpowering their space. ‘Sometimes I picture myself there. Going back home,’ her lips part with a shaky breath that dies somewhere in her throat. ‘But mostly I imagine the wonders of the world and what could await me out there,’ she sends a reassuring glance at Helaena, her own warm palm patting Lyrra’s in a silent moment of shared understanding. Then, the princess slowly turns around and makes her way towards the blanket laid nearby, leaving Lyrra in proximity with her brother. 

She thinks she can hear him maneuver, the leather stretches with his movements, but her eyes never leave the horizon. His breathing changes, from the tones of it, it quickens - a breeze shuffling around them. It brings more of his scent - one that she has become acquainted with. The world seems to quiver around them, she supposes. There’s only them and the last of today’s sunlight. 

‘What do you see, my prince?’ Her treacherous mouth moves on its own accord and if she was frank she not only surprised herself but also Aemond. His sharp features tense under scrutiny of her gaze - the prince’s profile stark against the orange sky. The eye patch blocks her from seeing his emotions swirl inside his lavender eye. An obstruction that somehow Lyrra finds endearing. 

‘Nothing,’ he grunts, and before he leaves, his roguish hand puts a dearly beloved carved wolf on the balustrade. 

Looking at her lost gift, her ice heart breaks a little. 

vii

Some nights, she wakes to the sound of Helaena’s cries. 

They’re heart-wrenching, attacking her from every corner of her chamber. The castle and its inhabitants barely rise a brow at the tortured sounds coming from the princess’s bedroom, and Lyrra’s chest spasms each time she hears the door slam against the wall. Then, she quickly pulls a night robe and tiptoes to her only friend’s room. 

In the daze of hurt and pain, she helps Helaena wash, breathe and sleep. 

As she sings sweet nothings to her, brushing her long tresses with her hands, Lyrra longs to vanish along with the Targaryen princess in the bare lands of the North. When the older woman falls asleep, clean and tucked under the covers, she slips away from her room - her dried tears forgotten on her cheeks. 

Each time she passes the second prince in the shadows. 

Nor she or he speaks a word. The silence between them says everything. 

viii

She thinks she cannot bear it anymore. 

Her legs hurt from the running, but each step brings her closer to the Queen. Each one closer to the judgment she seeks for the actions of the crown prince. There should be a punishment, anything in truth that could be done to prevent Helaena’s torment. If there’s anything she could help her with, Lyrra’s willing to take the burden of it. 

When she’s ushered to the Queen’s chamber, her resolve sharpens - the cold of her blood rushing through her as she squares her shoulders as if she was ready for a battle. 

‘It needs to stop,’ she whispers when her majesty finally looks up at her. ‘He’s hurting your daughter, and I can’t do anything to prevent it,’ the irrational fear sparks inside her chest when Alicent’s gaze clouds with regret and pain. It quickly disappears and when she stares at her, Lyrra knows she has walked in the trap of her own making. 

‘Entertain him,’ the Queen demands. Something cracking at the edges of her soft command. 

Stupid girl, she cries inside. 

Foolish heart, yet she nods. 

ix

The tears don’t stop when Lyrra stumbles from the stairs. Her yellow dress dragging behind her, its material ripping on the sharp edges as her body heaves with panic. 

Justice is cruel. 

Her heart squeezes in a trepidation and along with it her whole body - one misstep, and she hurtles down in an ungracious fit of sobs. They wreck her bones when she tries to muffle their sounds with her shaking hands. She shouldn’t have expected anything from the people who are only interested in the war. But from the mother of a child? She has been wrong. 

‘What are you doing here?’ She blinks and starts when the shadowy figure of the crown prince emerges from the opposite side of the corridor. The fear she has felt before pales in the terror that envelops her when he slowly crouches in front of her. The cruel gleam of his stare sends shivers down her spine, a tremor lodges itself in her chest when his white hand grips her neck. 

Lyrra notices faded bruises on his neck, and so many scratches, that for a moment she becomes slack, realizing who gave him those. His hold is brutal, painful - some of her hair twisted between his fingers burn her scalp in an unforgiving pain.

‘I asked you a question,’ Aegon’s lips create an awful smile when he witnesses her discomfort. 

‘Running an errand,’ she lies, his free palm coming to her chin and closing on it with an unhinged force. Her body flings backwards, but he holds her against him, his body heat penetrating the front of her dress. 

‘Do you know what punishment is wrecked upon those who lie to the king’s successor?’ His voice grates Lyrra’s ears when he leans to whisper his poison. ‘You don’t, do you? Shall I demonstrate it then?’ 

Not waiting for her answer, he pulls her upward, bruising her arms with the force he uses on her. He shoves her hard, like cattle. 

Then he leads her to the unknown. 

x 

Nights in the North are full of dark sky - no stars in sight. The vast wilderness and snowy fields stretching behind Winterfell’s walls used to bring her comfort on the sleepless nights full of terrors. The desolation of her land always reminded her of herself - a shell of an earth covered in ice. Even if the winter wind sang songs of her ancestors, the one she longed to hear for so many moons never reached her. 

Nevertheless, she has been keeping her watch, on the battlements surrounded by the darkness and embracing it wholly. 

She should have known that different types of dark could be as terrifying as the knowledge of her birth. As the crown prince's hands shove her around the Red Keep, she believes that even through the darkest nights in the North, she hasn’t been afraid. Her back hurts from the harsh slaps, and the last step on the stone stairway is swept from her legs when he just pushes her forward. If not for her quick reflex, her face would have caught on the ridge of the spiky ground. 

Lyrra blinks, but the darkness is overbearing and thick - her senses alert when Aegon grabs her arm and drags her deeper into the ether. 

‘Kneel and face me,’ the little man spats, and her heart wrenches in its naive hope of the slight chance of help coming from the upper part of the castle. Yet, in her performance of submission, she slowly does as he orders, gray eyes sharp and empty when her knees touch the cold stone underneath her. Breathing through her nose, she tries to think about possible outcomes of this torture, however nothing prepares her for the bone chilling sound erupting behind her back. 

A trapped wolf would bite its paw to escape the trap, but Lyrra can only tremble when the dragon’s grumble grows louder, closer to her small person. The ground shakes when its enormous body stops, awaiting its master command. She can feel the heat, crippling her with dread when the darkness suddenly changes into blazing inferno - the roar of the animal almost shattering her eardrums. Even if she feels herself jerk, she doesn’t move. The ridges of her spine go rigid, cold tremors travelling along the whole length of her. 

The crown prince snickers, an ugly sneer present on his face in the dim light of lit torches. 

‘You see how small and insignificant humans are?’ He taunts with a haughty manner. ‘You better remember that,’ the venom drips from his words, but the far away look in his eyes is even worse. As if there was truly nothing inside him, no emotion. Her lips move, yet no sound escapes her, the breathing dragon still near her - its tail swishing the layers of dust. Aegon then speaks, tangled words she’s not accustomed to, and a second passes before her hair flies in a tangle of wisps and tresses around her from the beast’s breath and closure. 

The hot snout presses against her back as she almost whimpers. 

Almost.

The wolf inside her roars with anguish, her bones coated in ice. Never fear, her brother used to say, never let it consume you. And with the dragon behind her, Lyrra’s gray eyes stare straight into the violet ones. 

Undefeated.

xi

‘Brother,’ she snaps her gaze at the silky tone of the second prince, hovering behind Aegon like a shadow - more like a viper rather than human. His tall frame contrasts with the fire playing on the stone walls as he makes his way towards them, stalking. He is almost invisible, the sound of his steps barely audible when he finally steps out from the darkness and basks in the torchlight. The silver of his long hair shines like the sword he has equipped to his side, his one eye staring at her with an intensity that could easily burn her just like the dragon’s flame. 

‘What’s the meaning of this?’ his sharp features betray nothing, but the lavender hue in his irises beacons her hope of ending this frivolous misery. With a trembling hand, Lyrra swipes strands of hair from her face, the beast’s snout still pressing onto her shoulder blades. The rumble of the giant dragon sends shivers down her spine. Her heart catches on its rapid beat, Aemond’s profile becoming her focal point - like a safeguard. 

‘A manner of a lesson,’ the shorter man replies, a gleam of triumph passing behind his lifeless eyes as he finally breaks his stare and looks at his younger brother. ‘And what are you doing here?’ A pale brow rises as he sweeps his gaze through the material of the cloak the second prince is wearing. 

There is a tension in Aemond’s jaw, a muscle pulling hard when he softly hums at the question aimed at his person. His single eye seeks Lyrra’s wide ones, still frightened yet with resilience hidden inside them, and with a small and almost faint frown he lowers his head. Then the brothers start speaking in the language she’s not well-spoken in, their voices clashing in the stone cavity of their space. Whereas Aegon’s tone is brutish, angry, Aemond’s is silky, steady and much more threatening. It feels like hours before the crown prince yells in her direction, and the oppressing presence behind her finally vanishes. 

Her body locks itself in, and without the dragon behind her, Lyrra leans forward - her hands shaking while she grips the debris and dirt with loud exhales. She should have been ashamed of showing such weakness before them, however, the fear coursing through her blood overpowers the strength she knows she harbors somewhere deep inside herself. All her life, she had known nothing but the peace of her snow covered lands and her ancestor's deep comfort of protecting their people and family - blinking at her clawing fingers, she lets the shame overwhelm her. If anything, without her physical prowess, magical creatures at her command Lyrra always hailed herself as intelligent enough to decipher why she was pardoned. 

Political balance, a wager that she represents. 

Her brother’s army and support is much desired on both sides of the upcoming war, and with her being a friend to the family, she supposes she can’t be treated like a rag doll. She won’t let them use her as they please, not when she holds as much power as them - one mishap and her scroll could change the tides of the battle. 

Squaring her shoulders, she painfully slowly stands up, her yellow dress dirty and teared at the bottom makes her look like a pathetic excuse of a notable Lady. The ribbon tying her tresses forgotten somewhere on the ground. 

‘I shall excuse myself, then,’ her words break the silence like a wolf’s howl and when she moves away from this madness she can feel the very well known stare, traveling down her back, burning her with a brand of safety she so desperately craves. 

xii 

She doesn’t make it to the first floor when her arm is yanked back. She stifles a scream, but a rough hand clasps her mouth before she can even whimper from the impact and shock surging through her veins. She and her captor quickly whirl in place, and suddenly she’s pressed against the wall of a desolate chamber, with rows of books glooming beneath the dust circling in the air. Her eyes hurt from the specks of it trying to assault not only her sight, but also her throat. And it’s in the nanosecond of the halo of a half lit candle, showering the room in an exquisite aesthetic, and a vibration of her breastplate when the scent of the person holding her inwardly makes her relax.

Blinking the unshed tears, Lyrra’s gaze traces the ragged bones of Aemond’s face, his almost translucent skin glowing like a star on the winter’s night sky.  With a slow measure, she travels along the hard beauty of the man in front of her - still as the Weirwood tree, cold as the ice sliding down Winterfell’s walls. The oddity. The unanswered question. Somehow, somewhat, she can’t stop looking at him, at his jagged scar that looks too raw, too painful to easily forget. 

‘My prince,’ she trembles when his hand hovers above her neck, a magnetic feeling stretching between them when she reaches his eye. Blazing at her with a fire that licks her insides. 

‘I didn’t consider you lacking common sense,’ he drawls, a sly smirk on his full lips as he pins her down with his unyielding stare. The fluttering in her abdomen vanishes at his tone, a prickling sensation of annoyance replacing this… This what? 

She shrugs from his presence and faces him from the other side of the interior. ‘What have I done to resort to such observation of my character, my prince?’ Her dress tears a little more when she stomps on the hem of it accidentally. The sound makes him look at her state and something reflects in his lavender eye, but in a moment it’s gone - replaced by the hard iron she’s used to see. 

‘Don’t be dense,’ he replies in that soft manner she catches herself yearning to hear whenever he accompanies his sister and her. He’s a man of few words, rarely gracing his listener with sentences of his own thoughts. The closely tightened armor he wears must be heavy, she thinks while picking on her sleeve with an odd anxiety. 

‘You put the blame on me?’ Lyrra doesn’t want to sound betrayed, but the edges of her question are laced with sound defying hurt. Her chest spasms with anger, so hot and bright like the dragon’s fire. ‘I’ve vouched for your sister’s safety, and you dare to point fingers at me? At my lack of character?’ He breathes through his nose, a wild look on his face when he assesses her raging form. She feels small under such scrutiny. The prince almost devours her with the way his eye darkens - slowly tracking the shape of her neck and then… towards her heaving bosom. 

A pause. ‘Nobody wanted you to do so,’ there is a hard note that begs obedience, but she’s not a meek dog, she’s a wolf after all. 

‘Is seeking justice truly a thing only some people are entitled to?’ Her hands gesture wildly at nothing in particular, an unnerving emotion overcoming her senses. ‘I don’t believe so,’ she stops her pacing and with a heavy sigh faces her companion. He morphs into something she hasn’t yet witnessed, a tender light shines in his eye, a delicate frown appearing out of nowhere on his angular face. He looks almost like a child, one that heard something he had wished to hear for an eternity. ‘Everyone should be vouched to seek justice, no matter the situation,’ her lips are dry and without a hesitation she wets them with her tongue. 

Her chest moves with the power of her short speech, each breath drawing his attention and cracking this angelic like mask she saw for a few seconds. Both of them remain silent, unmoving yet exploring each other’s breaths and their paths, the structures of their necks and skin - his hand flexes on his side, fingers curling into a fist that catches her attention. It’s as if something has coiled inside her too, something heady and unknown.

There is nothing, just the two of them, in this space where no one else has dared to venture into. A trapped secret, its taste encompassing Lyrra with a lull of electricity shooting through her body. 

She caves in, a soft sound escaping her when he makes one step towards her. ‘Is it so terrible to be just and kind?’ Her gray eyes weave into his lavender one - a tenderness she hasn’t expected coating his Targaryen features. ‘Am I so, dense and unfit, just because I care for the people I cherish?’ The tension between them is almost palpable, his scent intoxicating her senses. 

‘Kindness will get you killed,’ his whisper is the last thing she hears before he leaves her utterly alone and confused. 

[blnk338]

My dearly beloved blnk,

I’m afraid this will be my last correspondence of the day, due to my lack of sleep. But setting that aside you may in fact refer to me as pipebomb, if you so wish. I also may not be as eloquently as thee but I will my try my best to meet thy standards.

And to proceed with our previous conversation, I not only have a big interest in marine mammals, but land mammals as well. Do you know much about spotted hyenas other than their infamous laugh? We’ll if you don’t, you may be surprise to find out that they are also matriarchal animals as well. There is a single leading female for the entire clan. Clans tend to span from 8-80 members on average. But unlike orcas who are very family oriented, in hyena society, it’s every hyena for themselves. Females tend to be 30% bigger than males from birth so they already have a physical advantage from the very beginning. They also have a semi-complex hierarchy. Even the lowest ranking female outranks the highest ranking male.

When born, Pups immediately inherit their mothers ranking, so if a pup happens to be born a daughter to the matriarch, she will have it easy for the rest of her life (as long as her mothers keeps her position). A male born to the matriarch however will only have her ranking until he is of age, after that he will be forced by his mother to leave the clan and fend for himself to find his own clan. This is done to avoid inbreeding (this happens to all males born into a clan).

The next fact can make people quite uncomfortable, so if learning about animal anatomy can make you feel queasy, then please proceed with caution. Female hyenas have penises. It’s more of a penile clitoris, but a penis nonetheless. This is due to the extremely high levels of testosterone during pregnancy. A male cannot physical mate with a female without her full consent. A true win if you ask me, the bare minimum really but a win.

In short, female spotted hyenas are girl bosses. They slay until the day the die. I hope this hasn’t bored you to death, and if you’ve read this far, I thank you.

Sincerely yours,

Pipebomb.

pipebomb,

the sun has risen over the horizon and i am pleased to read what i have on hyenas! they are quite the creature

while i do not have any fun mammal facts, i was a bug kid, and allow your eyes to feast upon... this!!

now that you've seen this wretched thing, remove its image from your mind. weevils are foolish, dinky little creatures

allow your mind to go somewhere far nicer, far cuter, and gaze upon this endearing critter instead

this is a jumping spider, cute, fuzzy, and full of love

these intelligent little creatures will hop around-- yes, actually jump unlike many other insects-- sometimes for travel, but mostly for hunting!! and guess what... these little fellows are venomous!! but just like daddy longlegs, they don't have the bite to hurt humans!! they'll use their venom to paralyze prey... but to us? oh they're fuzzy little things

they can also be trained!! oh and they can dance! they can dance if they want to! they can leave this world behind!

their big eyes give them fantastic sight-- so yes, they can see you!! but they're quite unique in their seeing abilities. to put it simply, big eyes mean color, small eyes mean black and white

here are a few of my favorite babies

the white moustache jumping spider

bagheera kiplingi

the bold jumper

[thescribeoflostmemories]

Lovelorn (Fan-idea artifacts)

Weapon: Kodoku

It has no definite form but it is a deadly curse, a poison if you would call it that. It cannot be stopped once it fester within someone. Very useful to bend the whims of others under your command. It can take lives if the maker wishes do so. Only a very few alchemists have manage to make it into a reality, though their progressive realization would lead their damnation.

Artefacts: Lovelorn set 

Flower: 'Clematis Giselle'

'My lovely Lady, you and I will have a happy ending.' - The knight

A young Giselle had wed to a noble hearted man on a happy occasion, both love each over equally to no end. Few days prior, they were merely two lonely strangers. Unaware of the haunting malice that looms over her shoulder.

Plume: " Giselle's Pinion" 

'You've married an Icarus, my dear sister. I will not attend a wedding that will only result in blood tears!'

It all started with a little doubt placed by him, thinking of that her betrothed would commit infidelity over something insignificant. Yet her love for him never seem to dwindle, since her fiancé has never done anything wrong. If she had investigated carefully instead of placing blind trust, maybe perhaps she had listen to her dear elder brother. Day in, day out after their spoken vows, she grow tired of a wordless love. Slowly but surely not one glance at her way, it drives her mad.

Sands: " Wedding bells "

'Our love will be everlasting' -the knight

That was the promise to her when they spoke their vows, to lift her up in her darkest of times. To fill her chalice with his, yet at the end of the tunnel he presents to her, have no egress.

And so she left to wander around for someone who would actually spend time with her. Of course this made her husband go feral over her 'betrayal'.

As his heart was unstable and could as well murder him from this 'so-called' love. Yet, it raises a tingling sensation, akin to hunting fresh game in the woods. Embracing it, only for a shadow to perfectly fit him.

Goblet: 'To be or not to be'

'I shall be your wine in your goblet, my love. With this, my life will never separate from yours. '- The knight

The knight haven't forgotten his vows, yet when he saw her smiling at someone who isn't him, infuriates the chivalrous man. Lives reaped under her nose, citizens indict her as a cruel witch leading her to him.

Circlet: " Burning passion."

'Beautiful, a lovely flower crown to commemorate our anniversary, on top of their funeral!' - Ah'dula

At last he reveals himself, "My love." They heard a voice like thunder, looked up. Behold a ghastly pale horse, the rider is coveted man, shrouded in darkness. Amongst the throng of faceless people is his beloved on the ground, with no head on her shoulders. "To think I were to spare such insects like yourselves." And just like that, all life were snuffed out like a candle light.

Until this day, the man with such hideous appearance is in search of his dearly wife. They say he helped kindred souls like him to be happy with their loved one, by blessing them with the knowledge of the Kodoku.

[writedisaster]

vamptober day 13: We Gather Here Tonight

        Janet’s never officiated a funeral before.  Duh.  She’s not a priest or anything.  There probably is a kindred priest somewhere, living his absolute worst unlife, but she’s never met him.  And it’s not like they could go to a kine priest with this particular request, so.

        She goes over her notecards again.  The words all sound so trite, so meaningless.  How could she ever put this into words?  She sighs, tucks the cards into the front pocket of her jeans, and heads out of the tent to face the mourners.

        In preparation for the ceremonies, she’d borrowed incense from one of the fire-eaters.  It smells like grape kool-aid, but it adds an important element to the ritual of the thing.  Barney, already waiting by the makeshift dias, offers her a light.  Solemnly, she lights it and places it in the holder in front of the polyester-lined shoebox serving as casket tonight.

        Clearing her throat, she turns to the straggly crowd.  “Dearly beloved,”  she starts, which sounds fake as hell.  “Guys,”  she tries again, which is also bad, and then settles on “Squad,” which draws nods from the audience.  She clutches the notecards and presses onwards.

        “We’re here tonight to celebrate the life of the one and only Blood Roach.”  Someone in the audience lets out a wail.  Janet pauses for a moment, but when the sobber shows no sign of letting up, she continues her speech more loudly.

        “When I first met Blood Roach, I was just an anxious, uncertain fledgling, and she was just a cockroach living in my trailer.  Over the too-brief time we had together, I became the brujah you see before you tonight, and Blood Roach became a friend, companion, team mascot, and truly fucked-up creature.”

        Choking up, she hands the notecards to Barney, who continues bravely.

        “I think we’re burying a piece of all of us with Blood Roach tonight,”  he reads aloud.  “Literally, because we all fed her our blood to see what would happen to a cockroach that ate vitae.  Which was cool.   But also... metaphorically.  Because of how much she meant to us.”

        “To all of us,”  Janet continues.  One or two voices in the crowd shout agreement.  “Blood Roach’s soul may have departed.  She may have been 'a threat to the masquerade’ or 'some kind of fucking abomination’ or 'an insect, guys, come on,’ but as long as we remember her... as long as we unlive our unlives in her honor... Blood Roach will continue to bring us together, to remind us of the joy in the world, and to stand as a shining example for freaks everywhere.”

[gloriabomfim]

Part 1: In 10 Comical Montages - Joanne Thinking Joy is Dead

Montage 1: The Panic Phone Call [Joanne is frantically dialing a miniature phone, her eyes wide with panic.]

Joanne: (frantic) "Hello? 911? My baby Joy… she's not moving!"

Montage 2: Searching High and Low [Joanne is searching under the couch, in tiny drawers, and even inside a cereal box.]

Joanne: (worried) "Joy! Where are you, sweetie?"

Montage 3: Checking the Fridge [Joanne opens the fridge, and suddenly Joy pops out from behind the milk carton, giggling.]

Joanne: (relieved) "Oh, there you are! You little rascal!"

Montage 4: The Fake Funeral [Joanne has set up a tiny mock funeral with tiny insect friends, complete with tiny tissues.]

Joanne: (dramatic) "We gather here today to say goodbye to our beloved Joy."

Montage 5: The CPR Attempt [Joanne is doing miniature chest compressions on Joy's tiny body.]

Joanne: (panicking) "Breathe, Joy, breathe!"

Montage 6: Tears and Tissues [Joanne is dramatically wiping away tears with a miniature tissue.]

Joanne: (teary-eyed) "I can't believe you're gone, Joy."

Montage 7: A Tiny Obituary [Joanne writes a tiny obituary with a miniature quill pen.]

Joanne: (sobbing) "Joy, you will be dearly missed."

Montage 8: A Visit to the 'Afterlife' [Joanne constructs a little 'Heaven' for Joy out of cotton clouds.]

Joanne: (whispering) "Rest in peace, my sweet Joy."

Montage 9: A Monument of Grief [Joanne builds a small statue in memory of Joy, surrounded by wilted flowers.]

Joanne: (sighing) "Forever in our hearts."

Montage 10: The Joyful Return [Joy suddenly emerges from behind a curtain, giggling.]

Joanne: (astonished) "Joy? Is that really you?"

Part 2: After Joanne Thinking Joy is Dead - Joanne and Joy are Hugging

[Joanne rushes towards Joy, overcome with relief. They embrace tightly.]

Joanne: (teary-eyed) "Oh, Joy, I thought I lost you!"

Joy: (giggling) "Silly mommy! I was just playing hide-and-seek."

[They share a heartwarming hug, and Joanne peppers Joy with kisses.]

Joanne: (joyful) "I'm so grateful you're safe, my little bug."

Joy: (snuggling) "I love you, mommy."

[Together, they bask in the warmth of their reunion, their bond stronger than ever.]

[seashellblue]

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle (Part 11)

Throwing my old story ideas into the infinite void of the internet! Instead of, you know, deleting them, and throwing them into the infinite void of the digital recycling bin instead.

Click here if you want an explanation that makes more sense.

Wrapping up the story of Royal Spider with a character list, scuffed worldmap, and incomplete dictionary.

Enjoy:

Kura-Juta (Nephila Clavipes)

To train one's entire life for a singular goal is how Kura-Juta lived. She did not laugh, she did not rest, and when the children of the rebellion played, Kura-Juta trained. A ghostly white face that never smiled, Kura-Juta lived only to take back what belonged to her, until everything went wrong. Separated so far from her goal, with it possibly out of her reach forever, Kura-Juta must adapt to a world that went on without her. Over time, the ice around her heart melts in the presence of new and old allies, making her a more balanced ruler when she takes the throne.

Kura-Keto (Nephila Clavipes)

A long time ago there was a fair and just queen, the stories would start, and like all fair and just things, the world struck her down in her prime, they would end. Beloved by all there was know queen more well-known than Kura-Keto, but when her children were slaughtered before they even hatched, she wasted away, supposedly from grief.

Ka-Kiko (Maratus Volans)

While nearly all spiders live in the spider kingdom, Ka-Kiko has never even left the remote part of the insect lands his clan called home. Though he's a traveling performer, he relegated himself to a small corner, on the far end of the continent, where kingdom bugs are a rarity, his only experience of them is with arrogant soldiers looking for Arths that are just trying to escape their pasts and live new lives. An acrobat at heart, he uses his natural talent for judging distance to perform tricks and flips few other could dream of, all while showing off with brilliantly coloured fans that might have a few blades in them, not that he ever told you that. When Kiko meets another spider, one who claims to be a Kura, his curiosity is peaked, either they really are the daughter of the legendary Kura-Keto, or they have the guts to claim to be, either way, Kiko is in for the ride.

Ly-Zida (Latrodectus Hesperus)

Ly-Zida was no one, and she did not care. She had everything she could ever want out of her life, stability, health and a daughter she loved dearly. Zida was different from others, in her child she saw a connection, one that nobody else could understand, she wouldn't abandon her only child, she would protect her at all costs. And then Kura-Keto died, and Vara-Yetn became queen, but Zida didn't care, politics were not her interest, that is, until they had to be. Vara-Yetn wanted soldiers loyal to her and her alone, so she plucked Zura's beloved daughter right out from under her. That is where the legend of the rebellion's leader begins, and under her (metaphorical) wing, Kura-Juta would become more than capable of restoring the world Zida once loved, the one where it was safe to raise a child.

Ly-Quro/Ze-Krea (Latrodectus Hesperus)

Unlike her assassin siblings, Quro remembers what it was like to be out in the world, to interact with others without needing to proforms on their "tests." What, or rather who, she remembers the most clearly is her mother, yet, she can't seem to place her name. In an attempt to search the royal census, for a name that didn't exist (as Vara-Yetn had changed hers from Ly-Quro to Ze-Krea), Quro was banned from a mission, her only chance to escape to the outside world, and her friend Johi was sent instead. Although not extremely resentful (Johi had shown her only kindness, and who knows, perhaps this mission will help him see more clearly) Ze-Krea still waits, hoping that maybe she can meet the person from her warmest memories.

No-Johi (Eriauchenius Workmani)

No-Johi entire life has been training and fighting, he could count the number of times he's seen the sky on one hand. And although his closest friend Ze-Krea always questioned their treatment, he never did. Even if the training, and the punishments were always painful, there had to be a good reason for it, right? No-Johi has little to no social skills, and isn't very good at thinking for himself. When he's paired up with an unknowing Radi to take out his first target, he can barely communicate with him. Over time No-Johi begins to question things, why did they never teach him how to survive in the wild? It's almost as if they didn't want him to be able to live without them. As Radi teaches him about the world, No-Johi begins to see him both as a mentor and a friend.

Vara-Yetn (Misumena Vatia)

Va-Yetn was a nobody from a backwater village that no one remembers. She was never strong enough to fight for herself, to protect herself from others. This breed in her a voracious desire to become powerful and strong, by any means necessary. She would become the most powerful spider of all Ju-Rata, and nobody would take that away from her. Although Va-Yetn wasn't physically strong, she had a wicked mind with a lack of morality that helped her rise through the ranks of the royal court. After becoming Kura-Keto's closest advisor, Va-Yetn took control, and after destroying Keto's eggs, she had a subordinate poison the queen, until nobody was left but her, taking on her kingdom's royal name Ra, becoming Vara-Yetn. In part because of how she gained access to the throne she is paranoid about losing it, leading to restrictive degrees and the training of child assassins, who would be loyal only to her.

Xoru-Ryda (Tegea Atropicta)

Xoru-Ryda is a survivor, world-wise Ryda left his home clan and life of comfort to see the world, even if it sees him as only a foreigner, scavenger, beast. Although never trained, Xoru-Ryda is a powerful fighter, as he's hunted for himself everyday of his life, using a paralytic venom to its fullest effect. When Vara-Yetn offers him an ancient relic of his people, Ryda decides to take her job offer of killing and disposing of Kura-Juta. Yet, when the time comes to finish the job, he just can't do it, he's a traveler, not an assassin, instead he decides to leave her behind, so that she can live, far away from danger.

Ri-Zozi (Micrathena Sagittata)

Ri-Zozi was and is a free spirit, traveling between clans to meet and make friends, but as she grew older, she realized that Vara-Yetn was strangling the kingdom she called home. The paranoid queen nervous personality, which had served her well as an advisor, was causing her to make decisions that put safety of herself over the freedom of her subjects. With all the resources of the crown spent on increasing border security, in anticipation of a cross-kingdom war, along with a suspicious secret project, there was nothing left for the people. In Kura-Juta, Zozi sees the bravery and trust that Vara-Yetn lacks.

Tu-Mora (Centruroides Vittatus)

Tu-Mora's nomad band were one of the few that strayed close to the borders of the spider kingdom. Sneaking out one night, he was captured by the border guards, who believed he was a spy forecasting an attack by the scorpion clans. Imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit, Mora was later freed by rebels, but due to increased security, they could not sneak him back across the border to his waiting family. With no way back home, Mora chose to work with the rebellion, aiding both Zozi and Juta.

Se-Veli (Osmia Lignaria)

Se-Veli has spent his life as a scribe within the walls of Xawi, as the child of a wealthy merchant family, but he's always dreamed of more, of visiting the foreign lands he's only read about in the books and scrolls of the royal libraries. When his life is put in danger because of a robber fly attack, and he's saved by Kura-Juta and Ka-Kiko, he sees an opportunity to travel the world with them. Sure it'll be dangerous, but isn't everything? And while Juta might protest that they don't need the extra weight, Kiko knows that having a learned and connected insect like Veli is essential.

Lehi-Razu (Apis Mellifera)

Lehi-Razu is as sweet as the honey her kind is known for. Always in the mood for helping other, under her reign the quality of life for bees throughout her kingdom has shot up. Though she travels throughout the bee kingdom, Lehi-Razu's main palace is in Xawi, from there she can manage relations with wasps through their nearby city Parepa, as they are close both in blood and in alliance. Lehi-Razu's biggest fault is that she's perhaps a bit too peaceful, she would avoid a fight, even if it was for the right reasons, if she thought she could, she could never bring herself to send her own people to fight and die for her.

Lyso-Myha (Rhytidoponera Metallica)

After aiding the queen of ants with an outbreak of cordyceps, she promises to send one of her best warriors to aid Juta, her own daughter, in fact. Though, this is not as generous a gesture as Juta may believe, Myha, while trained and raised as all ant princesses are, to be dangerous and worthy, is so far from the throne that even traveling to the kingdom of spiders could not make a noticeable increase in distance. Still, ever-positive, Myha tries to make the best of her situation, if she can help Juta reclaim her kingdom, maybe she can escape the shadow of her parents, and many sisters.

Lyso-Tula (Rhytidoponera Metallica)

Lyso-Tula is queen of the ants, living by a strict code of honor. When an unstart spider enters her kingdom, claiming to have blood ties to her one of her closest friends, Kura-Keto, Kura-Keto refuses to acknowledge it. Not without proof. If Juta truly deserves to be queen, then she will have the virtues of one, patience, humility, and duty.

"Mentor" (Parasteatoda Tepidariorum)

The figure from No-Johi's nightmares, this spider remains a presence in his life long after he leaves the underground citadel in which she trained him. Whenever he doubts his motives, or questions why he is being asked to kill, he need only think of the shadow that stalked him at night, and all the spiders that disappeared under her care.

Ju-Rata Dictionary

A - Ja Abdomen - Nadobene Ahead - Deheda Ant - Tana Antenna - Natonase Antennae - Natonane Appendage - Pedenape Ask - Kasa Asked - Dekasa Assassin - Asanisk Blue - Lebu Bottle - Bolotele Bug - Gubuda Chelicera - Celihera Chelicerae - Celireha Chitin - Tihociho Choice - Hekiko Claw - Cala Compound - Monodoci Crack - Racika Eight - Tegihe Exoskeleton - Xoke Xekone False - Falesu Fang - Fana Fangs - Fanagi Far - Rafa Freak - Fareka Go - Jo Gorge - Roje Guard - Gurada I - Ji Idiot - Tolidi Limb - Limibi Of - Fo Paper - Parepa Pedipalp - Palapedi Pincer - Penaki Poisonous - Sunosa Pun - Nupa Queen - Qunene Read - Reda Script - Sikipeto See - Sese Setae - Setaje Sick - Kessis Tavern - Tavuto The - Hete Thorax - Xorato To/Too - Ko/Kou Warning - Warina Wax - Xawi Welcome - Welomeca Xorato - Thorax

[leggerefiore]

what would our precious twins do(headcannons) if their s/o is afraid of bug and ghost type pokémon and Starts to scream the very Moment they see one?

literally half their pokemon are bug type, s/o is dead lmao

also i love chandelure, one of my favourite pokemon of all time only beaten by malamar.

▲Ingo▼

● He nearly has a heart attack when you let out an unexpected scream. You were both in the back areas of the subway, while he was finishing some routine check-ups. It was very normal, with you chatting and inquiring about some of the duties he was preforming. However, it appeared that you had wandered off from him at some point. Knowing how dark certain areas could get, he sent Chandelure to help guide you around and eventually back to him.

● His feet echoed loudly against the oblong tunnels that he had grown so accustomed to. In those moments, they had shifted from a comforting hideaway from the large crowds often present within the station to a nightmarish hellscape preventing him from seeing to your safety. His navigational skills are wonderful, at least.

● Following the sound of your voice, he finds you curled up with your knees pressed to your chest and hands blocking your face from view. Chandelure hangs a few metres before you, terribly confused and slightly curious. The ghost pokemon chirps at the appearance of its beloved trainer and swings happily. Ingo sighed in both relief at your safety and irritation at what had you screaming.

● You explain your fear of ghost and bug type pokemon which makes him cock his head to the side noticeably. The Subway Boss momentarily wonders if you knew what half his team was comprised of. Crustle and Chandelure would never harm you in any way. He wonders what caused you to gain such a fear? Ingo's first pokemon was a Litwick whom he found (and still does find) absolutely adorable. (Part of the reason his Chandelure was so strong was the hugs he smothered the poor thing in when Emmet was too busy, or he wanted to be more independent of his twin.)

● He demands to work on your fears because it will be extremely difficult to live together if you scream or flinch whenever Crustle or Chandelure are simply relaxing about. You will be carefully and cautiously introduced to Crustle as they're a bit more easygoing than Chandelure. The insect will carefully observe you before scurrying over to your chirping for the treats Ingo had given you. It's both terrifying and cute to you, they are like a very, very weird dog. Crustle will attempt to sit in your lap afterwards. They are very friendly.

● Chandelure, on the other hand, swings around you playfully, wanting to get to know the person who makes their trainer so incredibly happy. This is the equivalent of meeting Emmet again, as the luring pokemon is family. The pokedex entries may paint it was a horrifying so soul-stealing creature, but this one would never do any such thing (unless someone should threaten the twins or you). You reach a careful hand and stroke its ethereal body carefully. They sing an unearthly gleeful cry for you.

● You're likely to get over your aversion, at least in the special case of your boyfriend's pokemon as they care about you as dearly as the man himself. Also, you'll appreciate the soft light the ghost emits during a 3am water trip to the kitchen.

▽Emmet△

○ The Subway Boss leaves you in his office while he was to settle a dispute among two employees. He apologises profusely and promises to be back before his shift on the Double Line starts proper. He's gone for around fifteen minutes trying to tell two grown men to stop fighting like little children about break times when a loud scream resonates throughout the station. Emmet freezes. That was your voice. He's immediately running back to his office with his strange gait.

○ People were rudely shoved out of his way as he rushed through a crowd of commuters to the administrative area. He normally would be kinder, but you could be in danger. The younger twin would never forgive himself is something happened to you in the security of his workplace. Everyone learns to just move out of the man's way while he runs at scarily fast speeds.

○ His office door is ripped open, and he sees that you're apparently unharmed. You are, however, standing on top of his desk, screeching at his poor Galvantula. Emmet's shoulders drop at the scene, and he nearly starts crying from relief. Though, that was certainly a strange way to play with the electric spider pokemon. They turn to face their trainer with a soft trill. At least Galvantula was enjoying themselves.

○ You have to explain to him that you are terrified of ghost and bug types because it genuinely went over his head for a moment. Emmet is honestly confused by your fear. You did know half of his team consisted of those types, right? You did know he literally breeds Joltiks, right? He intended to give you a special one as a gift, too. The younger twin explains that his pokemon would absolutely never harm you in any way, but that doesn't seem to fix it either. What made you afraid of them? He ponders this while Galvantula is clinging to his midsection like a koala. He loves bug types and his brother loves ghost types (well, at least the Litwick line). (He literally has a small army of bug children who love him dearly. Good luck escaping the insects.)

○ He'll want to help you get over your fears. Galvantula and Durant both are going to be free to roam around your shared home whenever you move in together, so you'll need to be able to at least deal with them. Emmet wants to introduce you to Galvantula first, but you refuse after your last experience with them. It makes the younger twin pout like a child. He instead brings out Durant. The iron ant pokemon doesn't really care about you so much as the food you have for it. They greedily take it before scuttling off to it nearby. See, this is why Emmet wanted to use Galvantula.

○ When you finally let him bring out the tarantula, they scurry up to you with strangely adoring eyes. Then they endeavor to climb you and cling to you like they do their trainer. You force yourself to stay calm while a pleasant warmth emanates from the electric spider pokemon. There's a low hum the reverberates throughout their body. It's all astonishingly relaxing. You'll subconsciously run a hand through the dandelion fur on their body. A happy chirp leaves them. Suddenly, you're fine with one bug pokemon.

○ In the end, you will likely still dislike most bug type pokemon, but it's hard to hate Emmet's Galvantula when they so clearly love and adore you as much as the man himself. Their heated blanket of a body is much appreciated in the Unovan winters.

[getlitaesthetic]

Hi! I’ve been hesitant to send this since your ask box is so overfilled but I’m gonna shoot a donation to your paypal to justify it to myself gkjdkjd, could I please get a matchup?. I’m 5’1, she/her, kinda chubby but working on building muscle, heavily tattooed with like, cute cat designs & kirby. Dress kinda masc w short hair and usually some kind of suit blazer & t-shirt combo. Been told I have a high pain tolerance. [1/3]

[2/3] INFP-T, VERY bad at talking so tend to either nervously ramble or just stay silent depending on the vibes of the situation, try way too hard to be an optimist but am naturally kinda pessimistic and self-critical. I love cute things & animals and usually end up being the therapist of my friend group. If I had an evil S/O and thought me or the people around me were in danger, I’d stay and just try to ignore all of the bad stuff they do and pretend everythings fine.

[3/3] I’m scared of insects & needles and desire… happiness I guess? (NOT gonna happen in the Devildom though!). I like to sing & dance and am honestly not great at either but I do my best!!. TBH would probably get mauled trying to feed some kind of wild dog or something before any of the demons could even lay eyes on me haha. Ty so much in advance and sorry if this is a hard one to match! ;A;

————-

This is... the first time anyone has actually paid me for my writing. I absolutely cannot thank you enough or explain the ridiculous range of emotions I went through seeing that, but know I love you so so so dearly for it. Hopefully you like this, I tried to make it extra good, but let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you to make it better!! 💖💖💖

—

I match you with: Diavolo

It isn’t what you thought it would be. You never anticipated being snatched up by the Prince himself, and why would you? He wasn’t the one you had your eyes peeled for. No one could blame you, not really, under the circumstances.

It was first semester when the guidance counselor took an interest in you that was just a little too intense. You could feel your decline, but could not halt or even slow it. You became more critical, more pessimistic than you’d ever been before, retreating into yourself as a slow building wave of doubt washed over you. The Avatar of Envy was feeding on your psyche, poking into your dreams and playing ping pong with your confidence, drawing you closer but your friends held you strong until he lost interest. You thanked the universe that they were there for you the way you were there for them. So from then on, you watched for Envy.

Only a few weeks later, while applying for a position at the tea shop, did you encounter your next suitor. The tall, slim, well dressed butler who smiled and blinked at you with far too many eyes. Running was not an option, so you offered a hesitant curl of your lips that you could only hope was not a sneer or grimace, and you must have succeeded because the next thing you felt was his hands on your waist. His desire for you was deep and sharp, you could feel the pinpricks of it as he took viselike grip on your wrist and led you to the palace, telling you of all the wonderful things you were going to experience at his side. Already, he told you, he could tell that you were worth loving.

Unfortunately, Barbatos was not the one you were meant to be with. The whirlwind day wasn’t over (was it only a day? Only a week? Only a nightmare?) when you entered the palace, instantly spotted by the Prince.

“Oh!” Diavolo exclaimed. “You’ve brought me a new toy! You always were so wonderful, Barbatos. Get her cleaned up, will you?” The demon’s displeasure was evident in the slight tightening of his grip on your wrist, but he smiled good naturedly, and led you away.

And that was how you ended up here, sweet dove, all dressed up so far from your usual style, in a gown fit for the consort of the Demon Prince. It was how you found yourself on your knees in the throne room, at the feet of a man much larger than you, and prepared yourself for the inevitable moment he chose to stake his claim.

You offered a hesitant smile as he lifted your chin with one long, curving claw, looking into your eyes with an intensity that shot to your core. Everything was fine. You were fine. Weren’t you? Still alive and dressed so pretty, shouldn’t you be grateful you avoided such worse fates?

Then, for the first time, you truly understood pain. It is a lesson you would never forget, because you would be reminded every hour of the remaining 261 days of your life.

Enjoy the gala, beloved, and all the ones to come. You’re bound to be the center of attention.