#like the old robe now being used as a sash

[angelltheninth]

the jealousy i felt when mizu pinned taigen and akemi to the ground ☹️🤚, can we have reader getting jealous and being all sulky and pouty the whole day when mizu's flirtatious side comes out when dealing with people??? i can imagine reader ignoring mizu and mizu sighing at her stubbornness trying to explain herself

This started off one way and then ended up well, here. How did that happen?

Pairing: Mizu x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, very suggestive, jealousy, grinding, making out, self-doubt, possessiveness, neck biting, mention of sex, flirty Mizu, jealous Reader

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: Originally this was very, very fluffy, and then I said but what if it was just a little bit smutty?

You were beyond seething at the sight of seeing the inn keeper's daughter flirting with Mizu. She was more then just flirting, she was also touching her, tracing her hand softly up Mizu's arm even if Mizu tried to shrug her off. Some people really don't respect boundaries.

Staying at inns and keeping a low profile was always necessary, sometimes being in the less popular ones was a better move, gets less eyes on you. Well except for the eyes that also followed Mizu where ever she went. Like yes, your girlfriend was handsome and hot as fuck, but that didn't mean that other people could flirt with her so blatantly!

"And here is the rest of your coin back, I'm sorry to keep you waiting young samurai. And little lady." The old man was back. Great, now after Mizu counts all her change you can go to your room. Your single room. That you will clearly share.

Mizu seemed content and put her coin purse away, her hand always hovering next to her sword. "Thank you. We'll be on our way then."

"Are you sure you'll only be here for one night? There are many bad people here and we could really use the protection of someone skilled. I'm sure if can work out a deal or two." You saw Mizu trying hide her smirk.

"Sadly we can't stay long. We're very busy people. Thank you again for your generosity. Make sure to alert us if any guards come looking. This is such a beautiful place we don't want it to get burned down in a fight." Mizu would never hesitate to burn a place down and tear it apart if needed but she was quite tired right now. You understood that. What you didn't understand was why she kept standing there while she was being looked at like a piece of meat.

You didn't utter a word to her while you walked to your room but Mizu did make it a point to put her arm around you. You could have slapped it away but at that point it was more pettiness that drove your actions. The silence wasn't a bother while you changed for bed either. She was used to it, so many days traveling alone before she met you.

Mizu was more then comfortable changing around you, a trust you won over the years in which you knew her.

"It seems like we'll have a peaceful night tonight." Mizu walked up behind you and embraced you. "Or if you'd prefer," you sucked in a breath as her lips found your neck, "we could take advantage of being on a warm, soft bed." Her hands played with the front of your robe, tugging on the sash to let it fall open.

This time you did slap her hands away and even pushed your body away from hers. She was surprised to say the least, his pretty blue eyes wide and her eyebrows vanishing into her now free hair.

"Maybe you should go and ask the inn keepers daughter." You didn't spare her a glance as you set your robe back into place.

"Why?" God this woman was so...

"Because Mizu..." You sighted heavily and rubbed your temples to get rid of the upcoming headache, "She was moments away from begging you to fuck her. The worst part? I think you were enjoying it." Crossing your arms was done more in a protective gesture then an angry one.

"I wasn't-"

"You were flirting with her. It's so easy for you isn't it? One smirk, one a few not rude words and people are ready to jump into bed at you. Honestly sometimes... I don't even know why you're still with me." You didn't mean for your voice to crack the way it did.

Silence washed over the two of you, no longer comfortable even by Mizu's standards. "Won't you look at me?"

"No." You mumbled.

"Stubborn brat." Mizu's hands locked around your wrists and turned you around. You tried to pull away from her grip but she wasn't letting up, only stepping closer.

"Mizu..." You warned and narrowed her eyes at her, "Let me go right no-" She cut your angry rant off with a kiss, chasing your lips even when you pulled away. Your feet slipped on the bed covers, sending you both toppling down, Mizu pinning your hands against your head, not pulling away even when your teeth pressed together.

Her lips were tightly pressed against your own, her grip locked around your wrists and her hips pushing your legs apart. "Finally looking at me." The smugness in her tone shouldn't have been so attractive, you were supposed to be angry with her right now. "I'm used to the kind of attention I got from her. It can get really lonely on the road and when you're a man, or presenting as one, there are certain expectations when it comes to interacting with women who flirt with you. Flirting like that was more of a necessity then anything more. I suppose over time it became a natural response for me."

Blue eyes followed your tongue as it wet your lips. "You could have said no."

"I should have. That was my mistake. One that I will work on." Her hands moved down to your shoulders, revealing more skin under the dim light of the candles. "But don't think, even for a moment, that she's the one I want." You had just enough time to take a breath before she was kissing you again, trying to convey her apology and her desire. Nimble hands moved further down, stopping just before touching skin.

You gasped into her mouth, a sound that she loved hearing. Embracing her tight around her shoulders you kissed her back, opened your mouth and let your tongues slip and roll around each other, pulling apart barely, strings of saliva falling apart in thing strings.

The familiar touch of Mizu's fingers skimming along the inside of your thigh made your legs open wider, but at the same time, "You're tired Mizu."

"I've had sex in worse conditions than this." That wasn't the brag she thought it was. Okay, maybe it was a little impressive. Just a tiny bit.

"Horny demon." Her lips spread in a smile as she cupped your ass cheeks and pushed you upwards.

"You're not any better. I don't have to touch you to make you wet. You could probably get off from this couldn't you? These light touches and my kisses." It didn't help that you rolled your hips against her right at that moment. "My pretty girl. How could I want anyone else?" Mizu didn't want to stop kissing you yet. With every kiss you felt her getting closer to you, until finally you felt her thigh between your legs.

"Mizu." You whimpered, gathering all of your strength to push her away. You didn't want to look down and see her thigh being wet. Instead you focused on her eyes, her face, "I appreciate this but I won't have you collapsing from the lack of sleep. Again. Not for sex."

Pouting was something was something you'd never get used to from her. "Are you sure? I told you I can keep going. You're already close as i-!" Mizu moaned against your shoulder at the bruise you were in the middle of sucking against her neck. You let go with a wet pop, nodding at your work. "Brat."

"Only for you." Mizu gave you one more kiss before she moved away. You hissed at the sticky slickness that coated your thighs as you turned to your side and let her spoon you. "Do you think you can kiss me in front of her tomorrow." You were reaching extraordinary levels of petty right now.

"If it will make you happy." She pressed one last kiss against the back of your head before the fight was put behind you, replaced by pleasant, and slightly horny, dreams for the both of you.

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Cry for the Moon

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |

Pairing: Zuko x firebender!reader

Warnings: a few sprinkles of strong language i guess

A/N: I am really happy that you have enjoyed the first chapter! The updates may be generally slow, depending on how much free time I have (mainly at night). I hope this doesn't upset anyone ^.^

Taglist: @annonymatic @yoongiesstar @lost-inthe-v0id @lokigodofmyheart @4l3x1s @potato87123 @asciendo @angelruinz @unamused-boss

Fixing the golden sash of your crimson robes, you leant the railings of the ship, your amber eyes focused on Azula. After verbally making the captain regret the day he was born, the Princess had moved onto her training. Not that she needed any more of it – you were sure that there was little to none she could improve further in her skills and techniques; however, Azula tended to get quite difficult when you shared this particular opinion with her. Hence, you kept your thoughts to yourself and watched the Princess train.

As Azula’s advisors, Lo and Li were there as well. Even the thought of having to interact with the sisters brought you on the verge of throwing out – you despised them both dearly for you could see how their so-called advisory was corrupting Azula day by day ever since Ursa left. Of course, your feelings were mutual. Lo and Li didn’t approve of you being tender to Azula, of you taking care of her as if she was your responsibility; however, they knew very well how good of an ally you were to the Princess, which didn’t allow them to speak ill of you.

Azula stood perfectly straight, holding her fingers in her hand. Then, she started to move her arms in a circular motion to generate lightning. Once the bolt was ready, she fired it into the sky.

“Almost perfect.” Lo said.

“One hair out of place.” Li finished her sister’s word.

You didn’t hide the way you rolled your eyes.

In an aggressive way, Azula pushed away that loose strand of hair away. “Almost isn’t good enough!” She wasn’t pleased with herself, leading her to generate lighting once more and fire it off into the distance.

Sending a warning look at the old women, you walked towards your best friend. “Have I told you before how much I admire the way you use lightning?” You told her with a warm smile on your lips. The strong wind of the open sea was messing with your hair which was already put in a neat top knot. “Perhaps these moments are the most that make me envy you.”

Azula shook her head. “As long as it is not perfect, it doesn’t matter how much you admire the way I use it.”

Over the years, you have learnt to be patient with Azula – it was very much like dealing with a broken child, one needed to hit the right notes at the right time. “Sweetheart, it is perfect.” You insisted, keeping your tone soft and tender. “You have never seen the way your posture stays still even though such powerful energy is using your whole body as a pathway. And you certainly don’t know how magnificent it seems when one gets to see the reflection of your own lightning in your own eyes.” You could see the edge of Azula’s lips curling upwards. “It is terrifying – yes, but it is quite hot, too.”

You had to be careful when you wanted to compliment Azula – she didn’t like it when someone complimented her just for the sake of flattery. You had to mean it and the chosen timing had to be precise – just like now. Her technique was excellent, she could generate lightning with little to no difficulties. At such a moment, further criticising her would only contribute to Azula’s already damaged inner self.

Sometimes, the little girl in her just needed to hear some genuine compliments coming from the heart.

Winking at the smiling princess, you started heading to the kitchen. “I am going to make tea – would you like some as well?”

Azula shook her head as a frown formed on her face. “You and your tea obsession sometimes remind me of Uncle Iroh,” she muttered with an annoyed tone. “And I don’t like it.”

You shrugged indifferently. “I love tea – you should learn to love me like that.”

In fact, it was indeed Iroh who was responsible for your appetite for tea.

[Time Skip]

You stood behind the Princess, as if you wanted to melt into the shadows. Upon reaching land and finding the Banished Prince’s place of stay, Azula insisted you accompanied her during her first encounter with Zuko after three long years. Of course, for you, it too was going to be first time seeing Zuko after all these years. On the way, you gave it your best to tune down your shivering. It wasn’t because you were cold – if that were the case, your breath of fire could get rid of the shivering – no, it was because you were too nervous to look into Zuko’s amber eyes one again.

When Iroh and Zuko came back to their place of stay, Iron placed several seashells onto the table, failing to notice you and Azula at first sight. “Look at these magnificent shells!” Iroh said enthusiastically as he held up a shell. “I’ll enjoy these keepsakes for years to come!”

Zuko was in simple, grey robes with red stripes on the edges. After losing the Agni Kai against his father, he had shaved most of his hair but hadn’t touched the top knot – just like every other person would do in the Fire Nation. “We don’t need any more useless things! You forget, we have to carry everything ourselves now!”

His temper has got only worse as it seems, you thought with an arched brow. Just like a hurt animal, he is barking at everyone around him.

Iroh and Zuko both turned their look to the table as Azula spoke calmly from the corner. “Hello, brother. Uncle.”

For a brief moment, time seemed to freeze as your amber eyes met that of Zuko’s. You tried to understand what he was feeling from the look in his eyes but instead, you found yourself being carried to a distant memory from long, long ago.

“I will be back before you know it,” Zuko said as he cupped your face – his face wasn’t healed so he had his left eye covered. “I don’t want to see you wasting your tears because of it.”

“Please, Zuko.” You muttered between your sobs. “Let me come with you!”

Hearing Zuko silently speaking your name made you come back to the present moment. Without speaking to him, you nodded at his direction and then placed your right hand on Azula’s shoulder. Upon seeing the emptiness in your eyes when they were set onto him, the longing expression on Zuko’s face disappeared, leaving its place to anger.

Using anger to drown everything else he might feel – he is going to regret this but it will then be too late.

“What are you doing here?” Zuko asked Azula with an angry tone.

Azula held up a shell in her hand. “In my country, we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions.” She spoke with a sarcastic tone, causing the edge of your lips to curl upwards. Right now, you found yourself enjoying how Azula toyed with her prey.

Three years ago, you wouldn’t think twice as you interrupted during such a moment.

However, the only bit of affection you felt at the present moment was towards Azula and no one else in that room.

Azula stood up from the chair and walked towards Zuko and Iroh. “Have you become uncivilised so soon, Zuzu?”

“Don’t call me that!” Zuko glared at Azula.

Iroh was trying to establish a calmer environment. “To what do we owe this honour?” He asked with a clearly upset tone.

“Hmmm... must be a family trait. Both of you so quick to get to the point.” Azula said as if she wasn’t related to them both at all, which raised an urge to raise an eyebrow at her but you kept it to yourself. Azula broke the shell she was holding. “We have brought a message from home.”

You started walking towards the princess with small steps as you talked. “The Fire Lord has heard rumours of plans to overthrow him and thus, he has changed his mind.”

Azula nodded, taking the word from you. The two of you carried out this play as if it were a theatre piece. “Family is suddenly very important to him, being the only ones you can really trust.” Waiting for a reaction from the Banished Prince, Azula paused briefly. “Father regrets your banishment. He wants you home.” Upon not receiving any feedback, a frown appeared on her beautiful face. “Did you hear me? You should be happy. Excited. Grateful. I just gave you great news.”

Iroh responded instead of Zuko, which was apparently enough to irritate Azula. “I’m sure your brother simply needs a moment.”

“Don’t interrupt, Uncle!” Azula got loud furiously. You placed your hand on the small of her back gently, which caused Azula to turn her piercing glare to you.

“Azula, please, you are better than this.” You spoke with a soft tone, which seemed to baffle Iroh to a great extent. Little did you notice the shock inside Zuko’s eyes turn to longing and jealousy. “Controlling your temper should be a simple walk in the park for someone like you.”

Azula gave you a small nod as the fury in her amber eyes lessened slowly. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face her brother. “I still haven't heard my thank you.” She spoke with an annoyed tone. “I'm not a messenger. I didn't have to come all this way.”

Finally managing to look away from you, Zuko shook himself and then started stuttering. “Father regrets? He ... wants me back?”

“We see that you both need time to take this in, don’t we, Princess?” You asked as you looked at Azula from the corner of your eye. She nodded at you. “We will come to call on you tomorrow. Good evening.”

Zuko kept looking behind you even long after you and Azula left their place of stay.

[Zuko’s POV]

The turmoil he felt within was about to drive him mad.

He didn’t know what he needed to reflect on: the fact that his father finally wanted him back after three long years, how his great failure at the North had hurt his pride or the way her amber eyes didn’t shine with love anymore.

Of course, he had spent sleepless nights ever since he was banished, thinking about what she was doing without him, how she was going to welcome him the next time they met, whether she has already moved on…

Zuko knew it would be foolish to hope for her to have stayed at the same place he had left her; however, he couldn’t have been ready for the coldness and emptiness in her eyes. For all his life, those amber eyes would shine the moment they saw him. Her memory had always brought Zuko nothing but warmth and peace. Until today.

It was obvious that the way he left her had scarred her in a way Zuko hadn’t anticipated. It felt like she had ripped that special place in her heart – where their memories, their affection for one another would rest – and burnt it into ashes.

However, she was still capable of showing affection, showing compassion. It wasn’t entirely gone – no, there just wasn’t anything left for Zuko anymore. For Azula, on the other hand… Oh, the Banished Prince didn’t remember being surrounded by that green could of jealousy before. It tasted bitter and it left one longing – longing to be shown the love he was once oh so used to feel.

I want it back, Zuko thought as he sat on the hill, watching the sun go down, colouring the sky in its crimson shades. I want her to look at me the way she looks at my sister. I hate the coldness in her voice. We were meant for each other!

Deep down, he knew very well it was all his fault but he wasn’t ready to admit the truth just yet. It was there, a silent scream, reminding him of every terrible thing he had done that day, he had said that day. Deep down, he understood the reason behind her coldness, behind the distance, behind the lost feelings…

The truth, however, was more bitter than the jealousy. He couldn’t admit it, he couldn’t accept that he was alone responsible for losing her.

Zuko shook himself. No, I haven’t lost her. Not yet. Slowly, he stood up, ready to head back to the hut. Once I am given my rightful place – by my father’s side – I will make it up to her. It was promised that she will, one day, be the wife of the future Fire Lord. I intend to keep my part of the promise.

[Time Skip]

“I told you they would come,” Azula muttered under her breath, keeping her voice to a minimum as you both stood on top of the ramp leading up to the ship.

“I must admit, I am disappointed.” You spoke with an equally low voice. Your eyes followed the Banished Prince as he and Iroh approached the ship. “I would have expected Zuko to be smarter than that.”

You could tell that Azula gave it all not to roll her eyes at your remark. “Oh, please – as if you don’t know my brother at all.”

As Zuko and Iroh walked up the ramp, procession guards stood on either side of them, forming an aisle. You realised that Iroh seemed rather suspicious as he averted his eyes between guards – he probably knew very well that they both were walking into a trap.

The guards closed the aisle when Iroh and Zuko reached the ship. “Brother! Uncle! Welcome! I'm so glad you decided to come.” Azula spoke, keeping up her façade perfectly. You simply nodded at them. For a brief moment, your eyes met that of Zuko’s – he didn’t even try to hide the longing reflecting through his amber eyes. However, you couldn’t risk being distracted, hence you quickly turned your eyes away, keeping up the strict face.

“Are we ready to depart, Your Highness?” The captain asked Azula.

The Princess nodded with a sweet smile on her face – you didn’t remember Azula showing such a smile with an audience. “Set our course for home, captain.”

The urge to smirk was too strong, you had to try quite hard to keep it to yourself. She does know how to play, you thought as you fixed your eyes on Azula. I love it.

“You heard the princess!” The captain shouted to the crew. “Raise the anchors! We are taking the prisoners home!”

It didn’t even take a second for you to turn to the captain with a sharp look on your face, your beautiful features being darkened by the fury raising within you. You idiot! You had only one damn job to do – one single thing!

The captain widened his eyes in realisation at his mistake as he looked at Azula; Zuko and Iroh were taken by surprise. Azula, on the other hand, carried the same fury inhabiting your face. You knew that if it weren’t for the importance of keeping the prisoners on board without letting them escape, Azula would have already chopped off the captain’s tongue.

“Your Highness, I …” The captain stuttered nervously but he quickly lost his spotlight as Iroh started to send fire blasts at the guards. Zuko threw the captain off into the water, stomping furiously towards Azula and you.

“You lied to me!” Zuko shouted at Azula, angrily.

Azula smirked. “Like I have never done that before.” The Princess held you from your arm as you both walked away, leaving the Banished Prince behind. You were confused as to what Azula’s plan exactly was but it seemed like she trusted the guards to capture him.

“Azula,” you spoke with a low but strong voice. “The guards won’t be able to hold them back. Don’t underestimate your enemy.”

“Ah, please,” Azula’s voice was overmuch condescending. “It’s Zuzu we are talking about.”

Before you could start lecturing Azula, you both turned back upon hearing Zuko blasting off two guards off the ship. He charged at the two of you with fire draggers in his hands but you could easily tell that his main goal was to reach Azula.

Iroh shouted at Zuko, telling him to leave the ship, but Zuko being himself, completely ignored the only sane thing to do at that very moment. The edge of your lip curled upwards as Azula easily dodged all of Zuko’s attacks – you didn’t even have to intervene.

“You know, Father blames Uncle for the loss of the North Pole. And he considers you a miserable failure for not finding the Avatar!” Azula talked as Zuko panted for air and for the first time since the previous day, Zuko was seeing the true face of his sister. “Why would he want you back home, except to lock you up where you can no longer embarrass him?”

Zuko conjured up two fire daggers again and leapt into the air, sending a powerful fire blast at Azula. You extended your arms forwards, palms resting against each other as you jumped in front of the fire blast. The flames went by you, losing their strength as your body acted like a shield between the siblings, protecting Azula from the flames.

As the smoke drifted away, Zuko’s eyes widened with shock and disappointment when he saw you standing there. Taking a deep breath to disconnect your emotions from your actions, you punched forward a wave of flames. At first, it seemed like Zuko was frozen in his place, unable to move as your flames flew at his direction, getting closer by the second.

Then, at the last moment, the Banished Prince rolled to the side. He wasn’t even capable of dodging the attack. Not because he was too weak – he was anything but weak – no, it was because he had never known this you before. He didn’t know what to do.

You had never let your flames get this close to him before – even back then, when everything was different.

“You always go too easy on me!” Zuko protested as he helped you to your feet. “I have seen you regret others the day they were born while training – why do you always hold back when it is just the two of us?”

A small smile formed on your lips as you walked towards the table to grab a bottle of water. “Zuko, do you truly believe that you will have to fight me someday?” You asked and paused for a moment to drink the water. “I mean like out there, in the world.”

“Of course not!” Zuko answered without even thinking about it. “You… Why would I have to fight my future wife?”

“See, this is exactly why I use different methods.” You said as you took small steps towards Zuko, who had a confused expression on his face. “With others, I have to show them what awaits them if they dare cross me someday. But with you, I can simply focus on the training.”

Slowly, you cupped Zuko’s face, standing on your fingertips, and placed a small kiss on his lips. The Banished Prince carried the hints of pink on his cheeks. “Since you won’t ever get to stand on the other side of my flames, you have nothing to worry about.” Zuko wasn’t able to hide his smile. “I will always be by your side.”

You felt as if you shared the same flashback with Zuko – time seemed to freeze around the both of you. Memories from a distant past started to flow in front of your eyes. However, this shared state didn’t last as you were both drawn back to reality with Azula, shooting fire towards Zuko.

For a split second, you felt the urge to jump between Zuko and the blue flames but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

Zuko jumped to his feet and continued to duel Azula, the two eventually making their way up the stairway leading to the central control area of the ship. Before you could follow them up, Azula knocked Zuko to his feet with a blue fire blast, the Banished Prince landing roughly at the bottom of the stairwell.

Your eyes widened as you realised Azula was getting ready to generate lightning. However, you knew very well where you loyalties lied; hence, you took another deep breath to let the chains of the feelings go away. With enough attention, anyone could see the hints of humanity leaving your amber eyes.

Azula moved her arms in a circular motion, generating the lightning to fire the bolt at her brother.

Suddenly, Iroh stepped in – you didn’t even notice him going up there – and grabbed a hold of Azula’s right hand as if he could take away the lightning. Your eyes widened with shock when you saw Iroh literally redirecting the lightning, causing it to strike a far-off cliff side.

Holy shit, you thought to yourself, your mouth wide open. Iroh redirected the fucking lighting! I didn’t even know such a technique existed in the first place! Oh, I would give up everything to learn that!

Well, maybe not everything but a significant amount.

Admiration left your body when Iroh kicked Azula off the ship. “Azula!” You shouted and jumped after her into the water, without even thinking about staying on board to at least hinder Zuko from escaping. When it came to Azula, you tended to let go off everything just to be sure she was safe.

“The royal guards are nothing but weights,” Azula spoke angrily after arriving the shore. Quickly, she used her firebending to dry off herself. “Unnecessary weight needs to be gone.”

You raised an eyebrow at her while using the same technique, hot steam was radiating off your body. “What do you have in mind?”

Azula smirked, her clothes were already completely dry. “We will be paying some old friends a visit.”

As you followed her to the ship, you couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes. “So I won’t get to see my boy for a while, eh?”

“Your dog,” Azula put an emphasis on the word dog while speaking, causing you to roll your eyes for the second time “could have made it to my list of useful people if he had used some of his time for training instead of fooling around.”

“No wonder he is intimidated by you.” You muttered under your breath. “Well, anyway – who are these old friends?”

[sunfyresrider]

A Helping Hand | Alicent Hightower

Tags: porn with plot, Alicent being a tad creepy, voyeurism, masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, we all need a friend like her! Word Count: 2364 Author’s Note: My short return to the hotd fandom!! (It’s a scary place.) I noticed I’m vastly better at writing intimate scenes between women than men🤔

One of Alicent’s favorite places to relax and relieve the stresses of the day was at the private sauna within her luxury apartment building. The old cooks that lived near her rarely ever used it, making it a place of solitude. That day was no different; Alicent stripped out of her usual expensive fabrics and put on a silk robe, packing her bag with the essentials and making her way to her place of solace.

As she approached she was pulled from her peaceful thoughts, her ears catching an almost inaudible noise. Someone, more specifically a female, was in the sauna. She pressed her head against the wall, listening intently to the sound. They were none other than muffled sighs of pleasure and quiet whimpers. Whoever it was, they sounded like they were having fun. Alicent peeked around the corner, and just as suspected, the door was cracked, and the light shone through the gap, revealing her friendly neighbor.

You looked nubile and young, the heat of the sauna made your skin shine with sweat and the flush in your cheeks was mesmerizing. Alicent watched your heaving chest with desire, your breasts bouncing freely, only constricted by a pair of bikini bottoms. Your legs were stretched out in front of you, as you rubbed your clit through the thin fabric, your head tilted backwards.

Alicent didn't know why, but she felt like a voyeur. You were too beautiful to ignore, and watching you pleasure yourself, hearing the lewd sounds your pussy made her mouth water. You were having trouble finishing, the thin layer of fabric separating you from your climax only working to frustrate you further. Your moans of pleasure quickly turned into a sigh of annoyance, you began to sit up, preparing to leave and give up on yourself.

She was nothing if not generous and Alicent owed you quite a lot, always offering your help in taking her dog out for walks or babysitting her children. If there was any time to repay your kindness, it was now. Her eyes locked with your wide ones as you looked up in shock, you just got caught!

She stepped out into the open and slowly closed the door behind her. Alicent let you admire her, watching you gulp, your eyes darting from her hardened nipples to the sash keeping her robe closed. “Having trouble?” She asked, slowly making her way to your spot on the bench, careful to stay within your view as she sat next to you.

You didn't know how to respond, all you knew was that this woman was as gorgeous as she was intimidating. And this was one of the most embarrassing moments of your existence. “M-Mrs. Hightower, I- I didn’t-” She cut you off with a smirk, a soft laugh escaping her. Alicent reached behind her and grabbed a bottle of massage oil, slowly pulling it from her bag. “No need to apologize, I’ve seen worse in my years.” She pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear as she looked at you, her eyes flickering from your face to your chest, back to your eyes. “I can help you, if you want. It's the least I can do for all the work you do for me.” She trailed the tips of her fingers across your jaw as she spoke.

Your mouth felt like sandpaper, the heat of the sauna making your skin flush more than ever. You swallowed thickly as you looked at her, your mind swimming. What was the harm? You always thought Alicent was gorgeous, you only did those tasks to be able to get her attention, but now that she was sitting in front of you, it was difficult to speak. “Y-yes please,” you managed to stutter out.

Alicent flashed you a toothy grin and stood up, her fingers slowly undoing the sash of her robe as she looked down at you. She stepped closer and pressed the fabric against your chest, slowly sliding the robe down off her shoulders, exposing herself to you. Your eyes couldn't help but fall to her breasts, they were so round and full, your eyes never seen such perfection. Whatever issue you had with becoming turned on was washed away.

She leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You let out a quiet gasp as her breasts pressed against your bare skin, she let out a giggle at your reaction. Her hands slipped under the strings, unhooking them as she whispered into your ear, “don’t be shy, it’s just me love.” Alicent continued to press gentle kisses against your cheeks as she slowly pulled the strings apart, exposing your breasts to the steamy room. She sighed in approval at your perfect form, letting her hands wander over your body.

Alicent slowly pressed you down on your back, you gazing up at her in awe. She grabbed the massage oil, dripping the cool liquid across your chest, coating her own hands. ���It’s good to take things slow at first,” she spoke as she began massaging the oil into your skin, focusing on your breasts. You whimpered at the sudden contact, it had been so long since someone touched you like this, you couldn't help but melt under her skilled hands

Alicent looked over your body, licking her lips as she saw you respond to her touch. She needed to see you cum, and the only way she was going to do that was to work her way between your legs. Her hands worked unbearably slow as she massaged lower down your body, spreading it across your navel and thighs. She paused for a moment, enjoying the sight of you laying in front of her.

You looked up at her with pleading eyes, she was so close yet so far from where you needed her. Her eyes never left yours as she leaned forward, kissing your neck. Your breathing hitched in your throat as her teeth scraped against your skin. She continued to press open-mouthed kisses, moving from your neck to your breasts, taking your hard nipple into her mouth and suckling on it.

You let out a quiet gasp, your fingers tangling into Alicent's soft hair. Her hands finally slipped under the thin fabric, and you could feel her fingertips brushing your clit as she wettened the area. Purposefully massaging everything besides your sex.

Alicent pulled away from you with a wet pop, a smile spreading across her face as you tried to catch your breath. She gave you another gentle kiss before she sat up, sprawling your legs across her lap as she slowly slipped off your bottoms. Alicent smirked down at your dripping cunt, “such a beautiful pussy.” Her fingers brushed against it, causing you to buck your hips into her hand. She shushed you softly and stroked your cheek with her other hand, reassuring you as she massaged your lips.

“P-please,” you whimpered out, desperate to be touched by her. Alicent let out a quiet laugh. She pressed a finger against your entrance, testing the waters, before slowly pushing into you. She curled her finger, her eyes glazing over as you clenched around her. Alicent slowly pumped her finger into you, waiting for your breathing to slow down, her other hand still holding your cheek. Your eyes were heavy-lidded as she slipped in a second finger, poking at your spongy spot.

You mewled at the stimulation, She leaned forward again, this time her lips wrapping around your nipple, taking it into her mouth. Alicent swirled her tongue around the hardened nub, her hand beginning to move faster, her other hand sliding down your stomach. Her nimble fingers circling your clit, teasing it softly.

You let out a loud moan, your body beginning to tremble, your walls began to tighten around her fingers. Alicent didn't stop, continuing her ministrations, desperate to bring you to your peak. "That's it, youre doing so good for me baby," she cooed to you, her breath hot on your skin. The sauna quickly became filled with lewd noise, her fingers pumping in and out of you. Alicent let out a low growl, "you gonna cum for me?" She asked, her voice deep and sultry.

You looked down at her, your eyes meeting her hungry gaze. She pressed your clit harder, her fingers circling faster as you stared at her. You let out a loud moan, “Y-yes m’gonna cum.” She leaned forward again, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, your tongues meeting for the first time. You mewled into her mouth, her fingers repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

Your back arched off the bench as your orgasm washed over you, a loud moan leaving your lips. You came hard against Alicent's fingers, her lips swallowing every sound you made. She continued to rub your clit, helping you ride it out as she helped you through it. "Good girl," she cooed, peppering kisses all over your body as she slowly pulled her fingers from you. She brought her hand to her mouth, sucking your juices from her fingers, humming quietly. She opened her mouth, a loud pop following, pushing her fingers into your mouth.

“You taste so good, baby. I wanna taste more of you," she pureed as she pressed wet kisses onto your ear, “sit on my face, please.” You blinked away your post-orgasm haze, Alicent's words ringing in your head. "O-okay." You stuttered out, lifting yourself off the bench, standing in front of her. You could hear the excitement in her voice as she shuffled backward on the bench, giving you enough room to straddle her head. Face sitting was a first for you and you couldn’t help but be nervous.

You were in a state of limbo, too embarrassed to make the first move, so Alicent did for you. “Trust me love, you won’t crush me.” She wrapped her arms around your thighs, pulling your dripping cunt down to her waiting mouth. You sat your knees on the bench, hovering over her head waiting for what to do next. She looked up at you with a mischievous smile, licking her lips before leaning forward and running her tongue through your folds. She let out a low groan as you came in contact with her lips, your juices coating her tongue.

“O-oh fuck!” You moaned out, placing a hand on the back of her head. The feeling of her tongue against your sensitive clit was more than you could bear. Alicent gripped your hips tighter and sucked at your aching bud, “you have another in there for me? Don’t you?” She asked, a smirk forming on her lips as you whimpered above her, “m’yes, Mrs. Hightower.” She ran her tongue along your folds, swirling around your clit, slowly pushing her tongue into your hole. You clenched around her tongue, the sensation making you quiver.

You couldn't take the teasing, Alicent could feel you begin to tremble, "Please!" You begged. "Use your words, baby." She purred, pressing wet kisses along your thighs. "L-let me cum." You practically moaned out, desperation lacing your voice. Alicent quickly complied, pulling your thighs closer and burying her face into your cunt. She pushed her tongue back into you, your head spinning as you fell forward, grabbing the bench above her head. You let out a loud whimper as she wrapped her lips around your clit, her tongue flicking against it.

You began to grind against her face, coating her in your juices. Alicent’s tongue skillfully moved against you as she sucked, your fingers tangling in her hair. You began to tremble, her nose brushing against your clit with every movement. Her hands slowly crept down her stomach, massaging her own clit. "A-Alicent," you choked out, your grip in her hair tightening.

She pushed you against her, continuing her oral assault as she continued to finger her own sensitive spots, "I know, baby.” She cooed. Alicent let out a whimper of her own as she began to approach her finish, the vibrations of her voice making your eyes roll into the back of your head. Alicent's movements became more erratic, she sucked your clit into her mouth, swirling her tongue around your sensitive bud. You gripped the bench tighter, your walls beginning to tighten as you got closer.

“You gonna come with me, sweetheart?” She asked, her voice muffled. "I-I- yes!" You choked out, your legs beginning to shake, your body starting to feel like jelly. Alicent gave a low hum in approval, you could feel her smirk against you as you began to fall over the edge. Her tongue skillfully worked faster, her own moans of pleasure radiating through you.

You felt her legs tremble, Alicent's eyes screwed shut as she came undone. She let out a loud gasp, her lips connecting with your clit again, continuing to lap at it. Your walls tightened around her tongue, her moans vibrating against you, forcing you to cum. You threw your head back, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as you came, Alicent drinking up all of your ecstasy. She slowed her ministrations, languidly kissing and licking your slit as you came down from your high.

She continued her soft licks until you moved off of her, collapsing on the bench beside her, panting heavily. Alicent quickly recovered, her face plastered in a Cheshire grin as she rolled onto her side to face you. She leaned forward, kissing your forehead, her hand playing with a lock of your hair. "I'm sure you're exhausted, i’ll help you get cleaned up. You can use my jacuzzi if you’d like," she offered, kissing your lips. You couldn't help but melt under her touch, she was so gentle and caring.

“Yes, Mrs. Hightower,” you murmured in reply. She let out a soft laugh at your response, giving you another quick kiss. “No please, call me Ali now.” You couldn't help but grin at her request, nodding your head in reply.

[celestialholz]

The Anatomy of an Outfit (aka 'holy fucking Continuum THE LOOK™)

Y'all know I haven't seen a single STP episode since 2.9. I would rather gargle with acid than go near this show ever again frankly, but, well...

... Good sweet sanctuary what the fucking hell is THIS. :O (@tennant, clearly a fellow appreciator of all things ancient god, must be thanked profusely for these glorious few shots I'm about to show off. <3)

I called this lovely, lovely man returning about ten minutes after he 'died', but I don't think any of us were expecting his outfit to slay THIS HARD when he did. And not only is it the sexiest thing my fortunate eyes have ever had the pleasure to absorb, but it also happens to be very, er... well let's be real here, it's ridiculously Qcard-coded.

Let's break it down, shall we?

We'll start with the obvious: it's maroon and black. This look appears to be a mad fusion of his Encounter at Farpoint judge robes (which is fair, we end as we begin), and his husband of forty years' captain's uniform. That piped shoulder's hugely reminding me of this, in fact:

It's the inverse! You know, the same look, flipped? Because they have perfectly distinct personalities but are also mega gay???? Costume department allies fr.

The delightfully dramatic sash Q's rocking is also interesting - it places maroon at the centre of the outfit, and is its grandest statement, which makes it an excellent example of the importance of the colour to its wearer. This is the clothing equivalent of him having mon capitaine tattooed across his essence, which... well yeah, valid. Canonical facts. It's worn across virtually his whole chest, too, because nothing says 'that's my husband' more than having him literally held against your heart.

It's a different era of captain, across two shoulders - the old teasing, and the new love.

Also, this fucking brooch.

Now, whilst I doubt they've given even John de Lancie a piece made of actual rubies for a fifteen-second scene, the stones here are very clearly meant to evoke them. And rubies are interesting for several reasons:

They're Picard's birthstone, his birthday being July 13th;

They're symbolic of power and protection. What follows is some of the interesting info I've picked up from internet gemology on rubies:

... Huh. Resolve disputes. 'Dispel anger,' when we've seen a darker Q in this series. And 'protective powers'... mm, how many times has Q saved Picard's life again? What did we get up to, six?

... 'Romantic love.' 'Devotion.' Uh-huh.

This brooch is also evocative of the Navaratna, or this thing:

The brooch itself is clearly stylised, but it features eight gems orbiting a central larger ruby (which is meant to be the sun by the way, as though this motherfucker wasn't already evocative ENOUGH of the sun here or here), and is an important cultural and religious symbol in Hinduism. What's it symbolic of, exactly?

... Oh, nothing much. Just... just this.

... Like I said, nothing much, just the whole concept of Qcard in fucking jewellery form.

The brooch's also, as the wife @porgthespacepenguin pointed out, an eight-pointed star.

... Have I mentioned yet that I fucking detest this show? Because I really fucking detest this show.

There's nine rubies on it, as well. Picard's in his nineties.

So, let's recap:

Nine of Picard's birthstone for his ninety years

Sun symbolism, AGAIN

Celestial relationships

Beyond space and time

Romance

Prosperity

Protection

Resolution

So, all that, from a brooch worn over an outfit that looks suspiciously like Picard's, which has a sash across it in Picard's colour.

... And I'm supposed to believe that Qcard isn't endgame? You're really going to gaslight me to this degree right in front of my salad, you absolute bastards????

Guys, when you inevitably wipe this shitshow of a Star Trek from your collective minds like I'm about to do, just... take this with you. Take the fact that everything about this outfit and this SHOW has said all along that Qcard is endgame, until they couldn't be arsed. Until they lost their balls for the pathetic few who might have naysayed it.

Patrick, and certainly John, deserved so much better. I'm glad that at least someone on this set understands that. (I see you, costumers. I see you, and I love you.)

Just going to... just going to stare at the absolute fine-aged wine of a man that is John de Lancie for a moment, before I lose my whole shit. He calms my soul, you see.

HIT THE SLAY KING JOHN <3

[ashmaenas]

Ash's guide to getting shit done (aka how I survive. Kinda).

Disclaimer: This is just stuff that (mostly) works for me. I can't make any promises that your type of brain worms are the same as my brain worms. They may be a totally different species.

Music. I find that I am very music motivated, and I can kind of hack my brain into doing certain things by listening to a Specific type of music every time I do them. For example, every time I want to clean I listen to 50s music and my brain goes 'Ah yes, you should be mopping the floor around about now.' It's very effective when I actually remember to do it.

Clothes. In much the same vein as music, wearing outside clothes tells my brain it's time to be Alert. Again, it only works when I remember to do it.

Starting step. This one is a bit dubious because the beginning is the hard bit, but with some activities (like showering) I'll do an easy action (getting naked in the bathroom) and my brain will kick into the correct mode for that activity. This works maybe... 40% of the time, but that's still better than nothing.

Doing something else. Occasionally, I simply Can't Do The Activity but I'll have enough spoons to at least do something. In that case, I'll just trick my brain into being productive by incentivising it with organising stuff. So I may not be able to study but I will be able to compile resources for every topic I need to research based on the syllabus. It's not what I needed to do, but it will make my life easier later on.

Half ass it. The perfectionist in me hates doing this, but doing something badly is still better than not doing it at all. I've reframed this as 'doing the bare minimum is still doing it' and this method helps me with things like basic hygiene, cleaning, studying, eating ect... When I have next to zero spoons. An example would be that a sink bath isn't as effective as a shower, but at least I'll feel a bit cleaner.

Have someone watch me Do The Thing. This doesn't work if they tell me to do the thing because then my brain goes "Well, now I'm not doing it," and everything is difficult, but if I voluntarily have someone in the room then it makes it easier for me to do tasks. Sometimes. Unless I was already in the zone. Then my brain says no again. It's kind of a hit or miss but it may work for you.

Turn on the Big Light. I actually don't recommend this one, because I don't recommend that other people voluntarily cause themselves distress in order to get things done, but it is a last resort for me. Turning on the big light makes me feel a bit like a rabbit being hunted for sport. Namely, stressed and alert. This helps me get tasks done because the quicker I do them, the quicker I can turn the light off. On one hand, it is effective. On the other hand, it's horrible. 10/10, would not recommend.

Disguise it as something fun and automatic. Confession: at this point the only exercise I get is late night bedroom dancing and skipping (to music) with a skipping rope I made out of an old bathroom robe sash and a shoelace. I'll listen to danceable music and the urge will be there, so I fulfil it and get some Movement™ in at the same time. It works because it's something I'd do anyway, but it's also beneficial.

If you're the type of person who can just do things easily without having to have a hundred different strategies to wrangle your brain into submission then you're probably a bit confused right now. To that I say, don't worry about it!!

Go get a snack with the convenient cues your body sends you when you need to eat, and get started on that minor task that you won't spend all week in a state of procrastination paralysis and terror about.

If you're like me and everything is difficult (except sometimes the things that everyone else finds difficult—either that or except some super niche skill that is not regarded as useful by society) then I'm proud of you for making it this long and I hope you found at least one of these useful. Feel free to reblog with your own strategies for Doing Tasks and surviving life (seriously. Anything helps).

[house-of-stone-at-sunrise]

Spotify Wrapped - Miss Americana & The Scarf

The video opens on this pair, Miss Americana and an anthropomorphized red scarf they are standing inside TS right eye. Being hidden within her eye they are just below the skyline, between the Cornelia St sign and the dice roll. There are two shots of them. In the space of a few seconds the sun (her pupil) rises behind them as they meet, join hands, drop hands off-camera, but then come back together and press against one another back to back, they disappear in a literal blink of an eye just before the final zoom out. The sky is blue, fluffy cartoon clouds go by, seagulls fly through the shot, and orange-red leaves fall from the mask worn by the scarf.

Miss Americana is one of the few characters completely unmasked in the video only glitter obscures her face, I interpret this as her being a facet of TS who is more exposed to the public eye, she wears a tight pink dress with a giant bow covering her chest, very feminine, she's wearing the Miss Americana title spelled out in black friendship bracelet beads like a beauty pageant sash. The black and white beads are a notable contrast to the blue/purple/pink beads of the other friendship bracelets worn by Mountain Taylor. Both of her wrists are covered in bracelets and I think that her earrings are made of tiny versions of those beads too but they're all illegible, the earring looks like lazy daisy petal outline.

Daisies have history in Taylor's lyricism "I once was poison ivy, but now I'm your daisy" and in her online public presence particularly in the run up to the launch of Lover and in the context of her relationship with KK.

The Scarf is a woman clad in a loose red satin robe layered with a giant red pointed scarf, aside from a toothy smile her face is obscured by orange leaves (shades of a Cheshire cat smile.) The leaves that make up the mask are the same colour as the flames of the burning house and the leaves in the snow-globe/crystal ball. Her left hand is always hidden.

The All Too Well scarf is represented another time in the video, wrapped around a cat in the foreground, but, TS says that whenever we see a cat it's just to remind us that she really likes cats so maybe that one is ignored by association?

Miss Americana is most obviously paired with The Heartbreak Prince, so does scarf-lady represent the prince as well or is the prince just absent? If so were they ghosted in favour of 'the castle' or are they just missing a direct representation because every figure in the video is part of her personal mirror-ball? All Too Well og version was on Red and the scarf represents innocence/girl-hood, is that something she could be reclaiming or, uh, re-gifting, through Miss Americana in the Lover era?

Pageants are pretty universally a feminine pursuit, and in the TS universe they're something that can be worn as a mask, and something that might be avoided to frustrate old fashioned expectations. In MAATHP "no cameras catch my pageant smile" as she ripped up her prom dress "running through rose thorns" when she saw the political landscape and ran for her life. In Dorothea the muse is "Skipping the prom just to piss off your mom and her pageant schemes."

In MAATHP she addresses a You throughout the song, no pronouns, but "the damsels are depressed"/"we're so sad, we paint the town blue" it's easy to read THP as being female. It sounds like an apologetic plea to a lover a - you know I love you but this is a terrifying time of loaded dice and there's an unfavourable scoreboard so lets not fight with each other lets just run away together and we'll come back to this battle when the time is right. I can't help but wonder if it was originally written as Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Kid.

The image of a rising sun in music always reminds of the song House of the Rising Sun which despite the popular radio version has its origin as a folk song in which the protagonist is either a prisoner or a prostitute or both. The idea of being trapped/caged/locked in to a certain image is a theme throughout Taylors work. Of course there are more obvious connections to Taylors own work, Lovers pre-launch name was Daylight, and the song Happiness references "a glorious sunrise" both of which I've blogged about here before with the general theme of Sunrise being a metaphor for coming out of the closet. Sunrises generally signify beginnings, it's interesting that in this clip the sun rises over this relationship but never sets, just becomes hidden away.

The seagulls in this clip reference a prevalent part of the imagery for 1989 both og and re-recording, they have long been rumoured to be covert symbols of sapphic love in the TS universe. Here are some 'lesbian seagull' references if you're curious. :) [1] [2] [3]

Eye Theory is another really straight-forward link to this clip and as it's a well established piece of gaylore so I'm just going to pop a link to the @9w1ft master-post. [4]

[1] https://www.nytimes.com/1977/11/23/archives/extensive-homosexuality-is-found-among-seagulls-off-coast-of.html

[2] https://medium.com/ostem-ucsd/how-lesbian-seagulls-changed-the-gay-rights-movement-dd88493da8e0

[3] https://genius.com/Engelbert-humperdinck-lesbian-seagull-lyrics

[4] https://9w1ft.tumblr.com/post/707733730978037761/been-seeing-a-lotta-people-on-twitter-asking

[sweetestofchaos]

Blackthorn Ch 2 Teaser | M.YG

Pairing: Dragon Prince!Yoongi x Impundulu Princess!Keena Genre: Fluff AU: Soulmate, Strangers to Lovers, Fantasy, Arranged Marriage WC: 1.1K Warnings: Mentions of drinking alcohol, Seokjin gets screen time Rating: PG Summary: Prince Yoongi

a/n: Please keep in mind that this teaser isn’t betaed and will most likely be touched up once the finale edit is ready. Excuse any mistakes for now. Moodboard made by @egocypher. 

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Chapter 2 coming Friday 10th at 1:40 pm est

Emperor Min clapped his hands twice and Seokjin led the Princess to her seat right next to him on the prince’s side of the throne room. Every member of council on the left side was young, all sons and grandsons of the advisor on the right side of the room. Prince Yoongi’s royal council was a sea of brilliant and eager minds. Once his time came, the young Prince would rule with great power at his disposal. 

“Tonight, we join together to welcome our dearest friends from the Escistan nation! The King and Queen have entrusted us with the well being of their greatest treasure, the Princess Keena. During her stay, the Princess will learn the ways of our people and share her own knowledge with us as well. It is a time of learning. A time for the old to make way for the new.” Emperor Min spoke clearly as he glanced around the room.

The warriors who guarded the Princess were dressed in black and navy-blue outfits that mirrored the ocean at night. They sat mixed with the Princess’ personal servants from both her home and the palace. Aga and Minho sat behind the Princess and Seokjin while Mingi sat with Izaso a few tables down.

“Princess Keena, it is my greatest honor and pleasure to welcome you to the Min Empire. Please treat this palace like your home and savor this time abroad.” Emperor Min raised his goblet high in the air and the Princess copied his motion. “You will always have a home here within these walls. To the ancient dragons who came before and watch over us, I swear it.”

Emperor Min’s eyes flashed a molten brown as he drank deeply from his cup and Princess Keena chirped loudly in answer to the oath. Everyone raised their cups and when the Empress and the Prince’s eyes flashed gold the whole room drank in silence before the emperor clapped his hands again and music started to play. Princess Keena set her cup down untouched. She smelled the alcohol, and it made her stomach churn. Seokjin noticed the displeasure on her face and beckoned a servant over to do away with the drink.

“Would you prefer tea, Princess Kenna?” Seokjin offered and the Princess nodded her head. “May I suggest the honey mint tea? It will refresh your palate with each course of the meal tonight.” 

“That sounds wonderful, my Lord. Thank you.” 

“Please, call me Seokjin. Now, bring the Princess some honey mint tea. Two scoops less than I drink.” Seokjin ordered lightly and the servant quickly scrambled off. “You are in for quite a treat tonight, Princess Keena.”

“I would expect nothing less from the Min Empire. I have heard tales of the extravagant parties only some are invited to have seen.”

At the Princess’s words a group of eight women and two men entered the room and stood in the center for all to see. They were dressed in yellow robes with large white flowers on them that were tied at the waist by a large pink sash. The outfits looked different from the hanbok that most of the guests were wearing. Two of the women held instruments in their hands that the Princess had never seen before while the others held ribbons. Princess Keena watched with large eyes as the group started to play music and dance.

The ribbons swirled and swayed in the air; a picture painted without words that disappeared within moments. Their movements were stretched out and flashy, colors mixed and pulled apart as they created something new. Again, and again these dancers jumped and sashayed across the floor. The Princess was enraptured by their flawless movements like spirit fish born out of water.

“What are they wearing?” Princess Keena had leaned over and asked Seokjin about the different robes and Seokjin’s eyes crinkled in the corners as he laughed, high and squeaky.

“They are called Yukata’s.”

Aga watched for the cue that the dancers were finished before he glanced at the door across the room. A flash of green caught his eyes, and he smirked behind his cup as he downed the soju easily. The dancers left the center of the room and before the silence could be missed a fast-paced cadence was banged out on the drums. Princess Keena’s brows furrowed at the familiar beat, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep the squawk in her throat from sharing her excitement. Four women and two men, dressed in the traditional Escistan garb filled the center of the room, light on their feet. They wore large, feathered headdresses in shades of green and blue while their faces were covered in white tribal paint that mirror the Impundulu’s wings. Their twists and locs were down around their shoulders freely and the drumbeat picked up, the candence faster and Aga started the chant, loud and proud as the dancers started to move on the floor. 

Their outfits were bright and colorful, large golden gorgets hugged their throats, decorated with white beads and jade gems. White and yellow silk cloth wrapped around the women’s chest with small black beads stitched along the hems. A set of seven waist beads with a thick leather belt sat on their waists. Black lapas with green and yellow patchwork wrapped around their hips and strands of multicolored beads and feathers from the yellowjacket-magpie hung from the belt. The beads and feathers splayed in the air as they jumped from side to side, their feet stomped to the beat and hands clapped, raised high in the air. It was a celebration of a new life, a new start for the Escistan Kingdom as they joined forces with the Min Empire. It brought tears to the Princess’s eyes, and she joined in with Aga’s chant. 

As the Princess’s voice rang out her people all joined in, and the royal family all smiled. It was a sight that shocked many in the room. The prince almost never smiled because it made him look like that smiling child that used to be attached to his mother’s skirts. It was a wonderful sight and filled the room with a new hope. Hope for the next generation that was to take over the Empire. The dance came to its end and the dancers all bowed before the Princess with their arms across their chests. Princess Keena grinned, and when she spoke her praise no one could ignore the loud whistle that ended each word. The Princess was pleased, her dark eyes now a striking silver that made Seokjin do a double take.

[himbowithapen]

Monsterfucktober - Day 5, Minotaur

Rhea’s troubles didn’t begin when she entered the great and terrifying Maze of No Escape, nor when a lawmaker in the emperor’s good graces came onto her a bit too much and tried assaulting her. In fact, she found it funny when he slipped a hand up her dress only to clasp his palm around her testicles. No. Her troubles began when she was told that being a woman meant retiring her gladiator armour.

“But I like my armour! I know it’s…” She looked at it, hanging on her wall, clean as could be. “It’s a bit boyish, but I like it!”

            “I know, I get that. But they don’t let women fight in the wars, and now that you’re a woman, you can’t fight anymore.” Sapria, her friend since childhood, had spent most of the day with her, sorting through all of her gladiator gear to rehome it.

            “But what if I need it? What if my homes invaded during the night by a thief?”

            Sapria threw her an old, unpolished sword. It clattered against the stone floor, losing some of its dust. “Here, you can fight thieves with that.”

            Rhea picked it up. It was her first sword, the one she’d trained with and set aside the day she was awarded a spear. She began toying with it. “Can we be a bit gentler with this? These are precious memories.”

            “I’m sorry.” Sapria fished out one more piece of armour and sat down. “I’m very new to this. I figured you’d be eager to get rid of it, leave that part of you behind it.”

            “No– yes– I’m not sure. I’m eager to leave being a man behind, but, well, it’s like starting from scratch.” She sighed. “I get why so few of us go through with it. It’s hard to fully transition. I only know as much as I do about being a woman thanks to you.”

            “Thank you. I get worried sometimes; maybe I’ve overlooked something, or I’m teaching you the wrong parts of femininity. But I’m glad this whole process of ‘throwing away your past’ is working out for you.” Rhea said nothing, and was focused on her old sword. Sapria investigated the armour more. “Hey, what is this for?”

            “Oh that? That’s my codpiece.” Sapria threw it across the room without even a thought, and the pair of them laughed until they needed fresher, less dusty air.

Rhea was on her way to deliver her old armour, dressed head-to-toe in robes which she and Sapria had designed and sewn for her. The sash went up along the middle of her back, parting either side of her neck, and then flowing down the sides of her chest before tucking into her belt. The centre of her chest was entirely exposed, which was great for her as carrying all her old armour in the middle of the day caused her to break quite a sweat.

            It was there that one of the emperor’s officials took a liking to her. He wasn’t awful-looking, but the same couldn’t be said for his character. Few in her area liked him, but somehow he never lost his position. He stopped her mid-journey, tried only a little to flirt, and then went straight for her skirt. She would have broken his fingers on the spot, but her box was too heavy to let go of for even a second, and the experience had stunned her too much to act.

            From there, she may as well have been taken straight to the maze. There was no trial, no appealing to the emperor, just a quick glance and ‘take this man to the maze’, then she was gone.

When she was thrown into the maze, Rhea was stripped of her dress. She was also denied her armour, her sword, or even a tunic. She went in naked, with nothing to help her but her experiences. In the time she’d spent scavenging for food and water, Rhea had fought and killed seven beasts that made the mistake of labelling her as food. She skinned them, ate their flesh, and moved on. By what felt like the sixth day—she couldn’t tell since the maze was carved into a mountain—she had two weapons, a torch, and enough pelts to dress her twice over. It was at this point, when she was prepared for anything, that she met the minotaur.

It was eight feet tall, with a cow’s head and a hairy, human body. Its bare arms, bare legs, and bare torso were all coated by thick brown hairs. Rhea looked it dead in the eye, adrenaline pumping through her muscles, when she noticed something was off about the creature.

            “I thought you’d have horns.”

            The minotaur stopped dead in its tracks and tilted its head. “No…?”

            “Did you lose them?”

            It huffed, then propped itself against one of the maze walls. “That’s not– normally people don’t– why are you talking to me?”

            Rhea shrugged. Her expectations for this creature of legend fell short. Even its voice wasn’t as deep and booming as she imagined. “Why not?”

            “Huh.” It went quiet for a moment. “Sorry, I’m very used to the whole ‘aaarggg, I’ll kill you’ routine. It’s strange—refreshing, but strange—for someone to ask about me before.”

            As she heard it speak more, the sound of its voice shone through; the smoothness, the accent. Everything clicked into place in her mind. “You’re a woman…”

            It chuckled. “That would explain the lack of horns.”

            “I’m so sorry– I didn’t realise. Please, forgive me.” She felt her cheeks turn hot and went to hide her face.

            “Hey, hey. You’re alright. Do you have any idea how many men have come in here and gone ‘aaa you foul beast!!!’ to my face?” it laughed. “I’ll overlook your mistake, on account that you recognised I’m half human.”

            Rhea smiled from behind her palms and lowered them. “Thank you. I’m Rhea by the way.” Relief flooded her; she never would have suspected the minotaur of legend was a woman, or friendly.

            “I’m Penelope. Want a drink?” Rhea nodded and the minotaur beckoned her to follow deeper into the maze.

Eventually, it led her to a large chamber. Decorations lined the walls: there were gold pieces, ornaments, a skeleton pointlessly guarding a pile of armour just like what she was on her way to throw out before being cast into the maze. In the very centre of the room was a large bed, complete with plump pillows and a huge blanket.

            “I like what you’ve done with this place. It’s very homely.”

            “Thanks. Some of it came from my father when he threw me in here.” Penelope rummaged in the pile of coins until she pulled two full bottles of wine. She sat at one end of the bed and offered Rhea a seat. “I hate him, but a girl’s gotta sleep, right?”

            “Yeah. I hear you.” Rhea accepted one of the bottles and started drinking with her.

            “So, tell me about yourself. What brings you to my lovely halls?”

            She took a massive glug of wine. “Oh it’s one heap of bullshit. You wouldn’t want to hear it.”

            Penelope leaned in. “Go on… I haven’t heard a good story in… well years. You have to indulge me.”

            As she saw her up close, Rhea realised how strangely pretty Penelope was. Her head had an even spread of smooth, glossy hair running all over it, her nose looked delicate to the touch, and her eyes; her eyes were dark and beautiful. The long eyelashes she had added to it all; she was effortlessly feminine, far more so than Rhea felt she’d ever managed. She took one last gulp. “Well…”

In the hour, she’d gone over it all: her past, her transitioning, Sapria’s suggestion to get rid of her armour, and the pervert lawmaker who she imagined killing at night. But the wine flowed heavily, and by the end of her story Rhea began joking in ways she normally wouldn’t agree with. “It felt affirming, in a weird way. He took one look at me on the street and decided he wanted me. Sure, he wanted me in a bad way, and I certainly didn’t want him, but I’m looking to find some good in all this, so there it is: he affirmed my gender.”

            Penelope choked on her drink and laughed some more. “Wow. I’ve been told I was too hopeful and optimistic, but you, you could find good in a maze full of monsters.

            “I found you, didn’t I?”

            Penelope turned away. Rhea’s smile dropped immediately and she tried to figure out what she’d said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. You’re not a monster, I meant you’re—“

            Penelope turned back around. Her lips were caught in a quivering smile and her cheekcs were flushed. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Sorry, I just needed a moment.” She took another big swig. “I umm…” then she trailed off.

            “Hmm?” Rhea went to stoke her arm. “You okay?”

            “I think I like you.”

            Rhea felt her chest flutter and her groin tingle. She looked Penelope in the eyes, feeling stunned. She felt unable to speak, unable to act, and suddenly the memory of that lawmaker came flooding back into her head, and she forced herself to snap out of it. “I think you’re really pretty.” Her hand didn’t waver from Penelope’s arm.

            “You do?” Rhea nodded, and Penelope’s eyes widened. “But look at me! Look at my cow’s face, my hairy body, my hairy tits!” She reached up and smacked her large breasts with her hands. They bounced, disturbing the otherwise regular pattern of her hair-coated body.

            Rhea stared at them as they moved, and felt saliva in her mouth. “You make it work. Trust me, you’re sexy.” Immediately, she realised what she said and put the almost-empty wine bottle down before covering her mouth.

            “Gods, you’re getting me all flustered.” Penelope took one more sip and put her bottle down too. “I think you’re sexy too. I love how okay you are with being vulnerable and how comfortable you are no matter how you dress.” They both sat there, trying to contain themselves, before Penelope spoke again. “Could I… kiss you?” Rhea was speechless, but nodded vigorously at the suggestion. Penelope began to lean in, closing her eyes, and Rhea did the same.

            Their lips met, and Rhea felt fireworks go off in her mouth. Not long after their lips touched, their tongues emerged, greeting each other affectionately before exploring their homes together, deciding which one was best to move into. As Penelope’s mouth was far larger, and her tongue was half-akin to a cows, both their tongues remained in her mouth while the rest of their bodies came closer. Rhea’s clothes slipped off, Penelope’s legs parted, and before long Rhea’s fingers were pulsing between the minotaur’s legs.

In all her lessons on being a woman, Sapria had left no stone unturned. They were close, platonically, so much so that on more than one occasion Sapria had derobed and taught Rhea where to touch another woman to give her the best orgasms—she had called it the ‘secrets of Lesbos’, and swore she would only teach fellow lesbians, “lest the men start thinking they know how to please women as well as we do.” Rhea now knew one thing about women that eluded even Sapria: minotaur clits are massive.

            Penelope’s whole body, in all its muscular glory, contorted wildly at Rhea’s touch. She enjoyed watching her squirm, and kept what Sapria had taught her in mind: be light on the clitoris, the g-spot isn’t very deep, use the middle and ring fingers. Rhea was so focused on pleasuring her, she barely noticed the whimpering, or that she kept speaking with her hand over her muzzle. “Oh yes. Oh yes. Oh yes. Oh–OH YES.” Those sounds of satisfaction turned her on, and she fingered her with even more dedication until Penelope’s screams of pleasure echoed off the chamber walls. She was so loose, and Rhea was going at her so hard and fast. It became inevitable that her fingers would slip in past the knuckle, even though she didn’t mean it. “OH FUCKKKKK.” Penelope’s legs quivered and her free hand went to her breast; she squeezed her nipple and rolled it between her finger and thumb, moaning loud enough to make the walls shake. When she was done, Rhea was exhausted, and her arm was dripping up to the elbow.

“Fuck. Me. That felt fucking fantastic.” Penelope’s breaths were heavy, and her heart was racing.

            “You’re so hot, even your moans are sexy.” Rhea was resting on top of her, brushing her hand against the minotaur’s hairs while listening to her body with one ear to her chest. “Fancy giving me a go, or are you all tired out?” She laughed and lightly gropes one of Penelope’s hairy breasts.

            The minotaur shot up. “Fuck. Yes.” She pinned Rhea to the mattress and kissed her neck. “How about I find something to fuck you with?”

            Rhea’s face turned red. “Like… from behind?”

            “Mhm. Like the sound of that, darling?”

            Rhea wasn’t sure if it was the idea of being fucked in one of her holes, or the nickname, but her heart fluttered. “Yes, please.”

Penelope released her and strode over to the pile of armour. The skeleton did nothing and stared up at the ceiling, as it had been doing since Rhea had first entered the room. After a minute of rummaging, Penelope returned with a metal piece attached to some strings. “I believe this codpiece would fit nicely with some oils. What do you think.”

            Rhea grinned and got on all fours. Almost instinctively, Penelope put the metal piece to her groin, pointing out as if it were concealing a boner. Rhea put her hand around it. “Take me, Penelope.”

            In only minutes, tears streamed down Rhea’s face as Penelope widened her ass hole with the oiled up metal. Propped up on her knees, with her face buried in the bed’s plump pillows. Rhea felt ecstatic as she took it all inside her. “Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. FUCKKKK.” Her hands gripped at the head board, her body shook from the sensation, and her teeth were gritted around one of the pillow cushions.

            She felt the piece leave her completely, and Penelope commanded her. “I want you to slap me.”

            Rhea got up and wiped the tears from her face. “What?”

            “Slap me. Like you mean it. Your hands were so big and good when you were finger-fucking me and I want to feel them again. Now slap me and I’ll fuck you on your back.”

            Something was different about her tone. Penelope had acted so submissive before, but now she was aggressive, dominant. Rhea liked it. She stood up on the bed, slapped the minotaur right across her face, and felt her breath leave her body as Penelope’s grip pushed her onto her back. “Fuck, you slap good.”

            “Thanks, it’s the soldier training.” The codpiece went into her ass once more, and suddenly Rhea was almost speechless. “Oh. My. Gods. Keep. It. Up.” She could only manage one word at a time between thrusts. Soon she gave up speaking entirely, and instead just whimpered and moaned while Penelope filled her to the brim. When she finally came, she saw stars. Then she collapsed in a sweaty heap, and Penelope went to fetch them both some water.

            “I think I like it here.” said Rhea, giddy with joy.

            Penelope handed her some water. “Want to stay for a while? I know you have a lawmaker to choke, and your friend, but Gods I’d be lying if I said the idea of you staying here didn’t make my insides tingle.”

            Rhea drank, then thought for a moment. “I’d like that. Then, once we find the exit, we can leave together.”

            Penelope laughed and lay down beside her. Without words, the two found each other’s embrace. “I’d love that. We’ll start tomorrow, darling.”

            “Thank you. I can’t wait to, dear.” Exhausted and satisfied, Rhea fell asleep in Penelope’s arms. Penelope kissed her on the forehead and settled down with her for the first good night she’d had in years.

[laiqualaurelote]

Tagged by @leupagus, @auntieclimactic and @kiraziwrites to post the last lines of my current WIPs (thank you all three of you, I’m very excited about YOUR WIPs). I decided to take “last line” to mean “last line written” rather than “last line in the fic”, for the pure and simple reason that the last line of all the men and women merely players is the epilogue, which I wrote even before I was sure how the fic would end, and I do not wish to give up spoilers for that.

1.  In the house in Richmond, the staff had gone home for the night. Rupert wouldn’t be back for hours, and when he did, it’d probably be with that cow Bex. Rebecca went through the unlit corridors, unclipping her earrings, unzipping the top of her dress so she could breathe. In stockinged feet, she padded to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of Malbec, savouring it in the silence. Tomorrow she would do it, she told herself. She’d call the lawyers, call Sassy, call her mother. She was going to begin the long journey back to being Rebecca Welton once more. Starting tomorrow, everything would be different. Satisfied, she left the glass in the sink to soak and went upstairs to bed, where she slept soundly through the end of the world.

2. “Please don’t ask me,” says Trent. “I’m trying to run a business here, not play a supporting character in a romcom.”

3. Dear Henry,

Ted got me a cat for my birthday! He is a tortoiseshell. Daddy is mad about it because he specifically said I could not have a cat, and has been saying so since I was four, and Ted did not consult him first. We have named the cat Fred, and even though we are Crimms he is a Lasso, because Fred Lasso is a great name for a cat. When we told Daddy so he shouted: “Oh for the love of God” and stormed upstairs. Ted went after him. Now they’ve been up there for ages. You know how they are. It’s okay, I don’t care. I have Fred now. I enclose a blurry photo of Fred as it is very hard to keep him still. Please say you’ll come over for Christmas and then you can pet him in person. He is so very dear. 

Love, Cressida

4. The assassin hoisted the window sash and slipped onto the sill. The desert wind ruffled the tips of his hair under the hat, which in the moonlight I saw was cut like a bob, with the fringe worn long. “Call me Ping,” he said. “And I’m no gentleman. I’ll be seeing you, sister.” Then he was gone.

5. “Fear your editor more than you fear your newsmaker,” says Sasha. “That’s what Gertrude used to say. And I’ve had some bloody terrifying newsmakers, let me tell you, but I never had any problems with that rule when she was in charge.”

6. “Oh, she’ll take him back sooner or later,” says Ariadne. “In the meantime, he has us. We’re his sassy gay friend. Well, you’re gay, and I’m sassy.”

7. Arthur puts down his teacup. “It’s okay. I’m going to level this fucking teahouse first.”

8. “A bold ask,” said the old woman. She looked down; the light fell upon her face, and the years from it. Now she was a young woman, young as Rey. Her robes were palest cream and the braided crown of her dark hair glittered with gems. “But I give it to you freely, who have walked my son’s halls and lived. I am Leia of the evening star. These are my hours. I am the daughter of the shining day and the gathering dark, sister of the dawn. I loved a mortal man and bore him a terrible son.”

I tag @justplainsalty, @nandalorian, @glamorouspixels, @swallowtailed and @aberfaeth, and anyone else who would like to reveal the last lines of their WIPs!

[laeorinel]

22. People who’ve influenced them greatly :3

Ooo this is a good one, with a slightly long-ish answer.

From her time on the Steppe, there are three. Khaliun of the Hotgo, Temulun of the Mol and Tuya of the Kha.

Khaliun was the woman who found Samara after she failed her trial to become one of the Tumet and raised her for a few years among the Hotgo. She taught her how to fight and survive but also gave her a tribe and name she did not have to earn, though it was not the name she now bears. To the Hotgo, Samara was known as Gan, "the bold one", whose face always wore bright red paint because of her sometimes explosive anger, a tradition she continues to this day.

Temulun tried to shape Samara into a devotee of Azim and Nhamma, even going as far as to give her a new name. Sarangerel, or "Moonlight" in the Auri tongue. Through her visions from the elder gods, she knew Samara was bound for greatness, but Samara rejected the woman's teachings, seeing the Mol's reliance on the Elder Gods as a weakness, especially when it barred them from acting. The relationship between the women broke down completely when the Hotgo were attacked by the Dotharl. Temulun had foreseen the event and forbade Samara from going to their aid, as staining her hands with blood would interfer with her ability to listen to the Elder Gods. This led to Samara essentially choosing to be exiled, as she went to fight the Dotharl while wearing pure white robes, returning days later with them stained crimson. To this day, no matter what armour she wears, she always wears a sash of deep red cloth either across her body or tied at her waist.

Lastly, Tuya was the one who encouraged her to leave the Steppe behind and seek out a new path for herself in faraway lands. She was also the one to give her her current name. Samara, or "Guardian" in a slightly different version of the old auri tongue used by the Raen.

Among the Scions, they have all influenced her in some manner, but Urianger likely tops the list. Given his innate curiosity, he was one of the first Scions who took the time to learn about her and her people's customs instead of just throwing her at the next primal/enemy.

He was also among the first to figure out some of her weaknesses, like gaps in her knowledge about how various forms of magic work. Samara is someone who learns via practical use and how something feels, not via traditional teaching methods like reading a mountain's worth of books. He was also the first to realise she was largely illiterate, relying 100% on her echo to translate everything and being totally lost when reports and books were placed in front of her. He slowly but surely taught her most things she wished to learn between missions and saving the world, though her handwriting is still rather hard to read.

During Shadowbringers, he pretty much acted as a matchmaker for Samara and Thancred, because those two are too stubborn, emotionally dense and worried about "what if's" to consider trying to become a couple without someone pushing them towards each other. This may or may not have nearly driven the man insane.

[mc-illustrations]

New outfit in celebration of reaching LV5 

[blackkatmagic]

Could I please request a drabble with Mace meeting Jaster? Time travel shenanigans would be loved and heart-eyed, but are not required.

“A Jedi is hiring a Mandalorian for a job?” Jaster asks, one brow raised, and can't help the thread of incredulity that creeps into his voice. “Perhaps you're confused, Jetii, but our people have been enemies for millennia.”

“I'm well aware,” the Jedi says, unmoving. Jaster has, admittedly, never been quite this close to a Jedi, and he can't help but be faintly impressed at the man’s stoneface, particularly given the bright-eyed Chalactan girl peering around his side. Her hands are hooked into his sash without any apparent fear of being shaken off, or any apparent concern for her Master’s dignity, and Jaster finds himself reluctantly amused despite the man’s temerity.

“Oh?” Jaster asks, leaning back in his chair. His blaster is within easy reach, and the Jedi is far enough away that Jaster has the advantage. “Bold of you to approach me with a job offer, then.”

“Is it?” the man asks, and reaches up, folding his hood back. Jaster stills, startled, because he hadn’t thought there were Korun Jedi—Myles has always been very insistent that the Korun people have their own Force traditions, and outsiders aren’t welcome to step into them. He’s a handsome one, too, tall and broad shouldered, with a lean strength to him that even the loose, comfortable robes can't hide. Steady, he meets Jaster's eyes, and says, low, “It seems to me, Mand’alor, that our status as enemies means no one will suspect me of having hired you.”

Ah, Jaster thinks, smiling. Like that, is it. He hums, then says, “Jango, who don’t you show this lovely padawan the gardens? I'm sure she would like to see them.”

“What?” Jango demands, outraged the way only a fourteen-year-old can be. “Buir, I'm not leaving—”

Jaster levels a pointed look at his son, and his mouth snaps shut. He scowls, deep and affronted, and crosses his arms over his chest. “You shouldn’t be meeting with a Jedi alone,” he says grumpily. “Myles is going to yell at you.”

“Myles will survive,” Jaster says, though it’s likely true. “Master Jedi, I hope you don’t object to speaking privately.”

“Of course not,” the Jedi says, perfectly calm, and glances down at his padawan. “Depa. Be polite.”

That is, Jaster reflects wryly, an incrediblyfamiliar tone of voice. He’s willing to bet the girl gets herself into almost as much trouble as Jango, given how practiced it sounds.

And, on cue, the girl beams up at her Master without hesitation. “I'm always polite, Master Mace,” she protests, perfectly, wickedly innocent. Mace doesn’t answer, just sighs, and Depa laughs, rising up on her tiptoes. She hauls him down, no thought given to dignity, and plants a loud, showy kiss on his cheek, then hops back two steps and turns that smile on Jango, who freezes like he was just dipped in carbonite, his eyes going wide.

She is, Jaster thinks with amusement, a very pretty girl. He wonders how quickly Jango will manage to stick his foot in his mouth this time. Within ten minutes, judging by last time. Jaster doesn’t precisely have high hopes for their interaction, but at least this isn't the daughter of a high-profile client that Jango is going to offend. The Jedi needs them, not the other way around, and given Jedi morals, he likely won't turn to the Death Watch the instant he’s insulted.

“Depa,” Mace says, a warning, but Depa ignores it, grinning at Jango and folding her hands behind her.

“I would love to see the garden,” she says cheerfully. “Jango, was it?”

“Jango Fett,” Jango says, only a little mulishly, and takes a careful step forward, like he’s worried she’s going to bite him. “It’s this way, I guess.”

He couldn’t sound less enthusiastic if he tried. Jaster rather suspects he is.

As the door slides shut behind their two witnesses, though, Jaster's amusement fades slightly, and he turns his gaze on Mace, narrow and thoughtful as he considers the man, his presence on Mandalore, the quiet, entirely understated way he arrived.

“This isn't a mission from the Jedi Order,” he says, weighing. “I might even go so far as to say they have no idea of your presence here.”

“They don’t,” Mace says bluntly. “I'm here on my own business, and acting on information the Jedi Council isn't privy to.” There's a pause, and then a rueful curve just touches one corner of his mouth. “Believe me, Mand’alor. I do not go behind the Council’s back easily. This is vital, and I'm willing to provide the funds to prove it.”

Jaster smiles, a little humorless, a little thin. He’s not fond of being played, and this sounds very much like Mace is trying. “I have plenty of credits, Master Jedi. Why should I find yours any more appealing than anyone else’s?”

Mace doesn’t hesitate this time, just raises his chin. “Because I have something that is far more valuable than credits,” he says calmly. “I can provide you with information.”

It is, Jaster will admit, a tempting prospect, but he’s still wary. “Jedi information? Access to the Archives, perhaps? If I wanted dry Jedi tomes on political law—”

“No,” Mace interrupts, flat, and takes two steps forward, until he’s right across Jaster's desk. “Far more important and immediate information. Such as the name of the traitor who will kill you. And the location of Jango Fett's older sister.”

Jaster freezes, hardly daring to breathe. Arla was gone by the time he’d made it back to the Fett homestead on Concord Dawn, and no trace of her has ever surfaced. Jaster has been looking, because Jango speaks of her endlessly, but—

“That,” he rasps, voice half-caught in his throat, “could be considered blackmail, Master Jedi.”

Mace tips his head. “Proof of my desperation,” he says, and there's no self-consciousness to it, just blunt honesty. A pause, and then he says, faintly rueful, “I’ll give you her location whether you take the job or not. The Death Watch has her.”

Jaster was afraid of that. He breathes out, slow, careful, and—the willingness to offer up half of his bargaining chips makes him more inclined to trust Mace, even if a flicker of wariness still remains. “And the job is?”

Mace doesn’t waver, doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t flinch. “I want you to assassinate the senior senator from Naboo. Sheev Palpatine. He’s a Sith apprentice.”

Of all the things that Jaster was expecting, that most certainly wasn’t among them.

It takes him a long moment to scrape together a coherent response, another still to get the words right. “Apprentice,” he echoes. “Usually, an apprentice follows a master. Who is the Sith Master, then?”

“A scientist and a banker,” Mace says coolly. “Palpatine is the more dangerous target, and a better duelist. I can handle the Master, but the apprentice I would leave to someone more adept at assassinations.”

It would hardly be the first time the Mandalorians have been hired for such a thing, and Jaster is more than willing to do it. Knowing that Mace will be fighting his own battle allays some of Jaster's fears as well, and he leans on one arm of his chair, considering the man.

“A fraught mission,” he says, “on both parts. You have a plan, I assume.”

If anything, Mace looks amused at that. “The Jedi do not plan,” he says, a trace of humor in the words. “I trust the Force to see me through, however. And as I am training Depa, I will have all the time I need to see things through.”

Jedi, Jaster thinks, and doesn’t roll his eyes. Quite. “And would you care to tell me where you got this information, Master Jedi? Particularly about a traitor within the ranks of the True Mandalorians. I must admit that one surprises me.”

Mace is silent for another moment. “From the future,” he finally offers. “I traveled back with the help of a Force nexus. In the time I came from, the True Mandalorians were wiped out, and the Sith won.”

Something cold slides down Jaster's spine, and he rises slowly, comes to his feet to face the Jedi. Mace meets his eyes, holds his gaze, and—

He looks tired, Jaster thinks, calculating, considering. Tired in a bone-deep, weary way that Jaster had managed to miss before, buried as it was by his determination. Traveled back from the future, through time itself, and Jaster didn’t know such a thing was possible.

Not possible for most people, he thinks, watching Mace. And not optimal even for this one.

“Very well,” he says after a long minute of silence. “But on the condition that you stay here and provide your information throughout the mission. I won't have a Sith kill my men because you think you have better things to do.”

The relief that slides over Mace's expression is subtle, but—Jaster catches it easily. “Agreed,” he says. “We will rely on your hospitality, Mand’alor.”

“Jaster, please,” Jaster says, and moves around the end of his desk, taking Mace's arm. Muscled, he thinks, and that’s likely a good sign. Not a useless Jedi, hopefully. Not if he’s certain he can take on a Sith. “I think the use of first names is allowable now that you're my guest.”

“You have a liberal interpretation of guest,” Mace says dryly, but he doesn’t pull away as Jaster leads him out of the office, and Jaster is willing to count it as a win.

[On AO3]

[exovapor]

My first attempt at headcannons for the guys as children.

RAPH:

Fully blown oral fixation, a soothing mechanism for insecurities.  Stealing bottles and binkies from his brothers when Splinter wasn't looking.   

He would mainly steal from Donnie (hence D’s leaner frame).  

He targeted Donnie because Donnie’s personality made him was less likely to wail about his missing bottle and more likely to whimper in solitude.  Mikey was a wailer, drama queen in the making.

So attached to his oral soothing rituals that Splinter had to resort to hiding the binkies from Raph when it became obvious that he was WAY too old to be sucking on them.

Always referred to pacifiers as his binkies (never used the word pacifier or passey).

Once his binkies were “stolen away”, he started sticking other things in his mouth instead.  All his crayons, pens, and pencils would be chewed beyond recognition.  He swallowed more than one toy on accident (and had to wait to get it back...ew).  Eventually, moved on to more acceptable items such as lollipops and toothpicks,

What were his insecurities?  Total Middle Child Syndrome...jealousy.

Being the physically ‘bigger’ brother but not the eldest, he always had to submit to Leo’s authority.  Which made no sense to him.  He was big enough to take care of himself.

Resentful that Splinter didn’t think he was responsible enough to watch himself when Splinter left the lair on errands. 

Always thinking that Splinter favored Leo.  (It wasn’t true, Leo just carried responsibility well and could be trusted to make good decisions).

Always thought if they had a Mom that he would be her favorite and not Leo.

Would often watch TV shows with strong female characters and image them as his mother.  HIs favorites were Nell Carter and Roseanne Barr.  He liked their Direct-No-BS-Attitudes.

Another insecurity?  Not fond of the dark.  Needed a light source of some sort on at all times.

Had a Gloworm Doll he slept when until he was....well....he still has it.  It lays on his bed but he doesn’t sleep with it!  It’s just there, you know, it is sentimental.

Still sleeps with a night light on though.

Mikey:

Was a pretty calm baby, as long as he was dry and fed.  If he wasn’t, total water works!

His personality was chill; however, with four others to cater to him, he was used to getting his way.  (Youngest Child Syndrome)

You had a toy he wanted, he wailed until he got it.  

You were watching TV and he wanted to watch Sesame Street, he cried crocodile tears until Splinter, or Leo, made you change the channel.

Was the one who took the longest to potty train.  Splinter still thinks of that lesson as his most fought after achievement as a father!

Oh, and Mikey didn’t like keeping his diapers on either....so, watch where you step!

Was that nudist child, always taking off his clothes and running au naturel all day long.

About the only article of clothing he ever put on voluntarily was his superhero cape.  (What a sight!  Supehero, naked kid).

Would steal Raph’s chewed up crayons and pens and draw on every surface in the lair...then blame it on Donnie. (poor Donnie...not that Splinter ever believed Mikey).

Had a major crush on Barbie.  Watched all her commercials with enthusiasm.  (And God FORBID if you changed the channel during a Barbie commercial!)

Had his own Barbie doll that he’d cuddle with every night.  Actually, still has that Barbie, but she lost her clothes long ago.....also falsely blamed on Donnie.

Other childhood crushes include Kelly from Saved By The Bell, Ashley Banks from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, and Topanga from Boy Meets World (although he and Donnie often fought over her).  

Well...that is until Mikey discovered Bay Watch.

Donnie

Was a very quiet, observant baby.  Generally, very calm and non-demanding.

He out grew toys just as quickly as his stretching frame out grew clothes.  They just didn’t keep his interest.

Learned to walk, talk, and potty train all in the same week 

Splinter was grateful for the potty training skill but the talking skill brought headaches.

Donnie was that “why” kid.  

Everything he saw or that was said to him, he had to ask “why”.  Then, when you gave him an answer, he’d ask “why” about the answer!  He wanted to know everything about everything...the kid was exhausting.

Nearly 24/7 Splinter had a lanky kid following him around asking why this and why that.  Splinter was ecstatic when technology advanced enough for Donnie to research information on his own.

Well, that is until Donnie found the more...au naturel... side of the internet.

Splinter still believes Donnie was the poster child for the implementation of Parental Controls.

The only actual toy that Donnie really took to was his plush Hulk Hogan doll.  Splinter thought it was cute that Donnie attached so strongly to the red bandana figure, it must of reminded Donnie of his older brother Raph.

Strange how often Donnie beat up on that doll though...like he had some pent-up aggression towards his bigger brother for some reason.

Donnie and Leo were the wrestling fans of the family.  They would never miss a show.  Jumping around and grappling for hours afterwards and usually breaking something in the lair to Splinter’s dismay.

Fought with Mikey over Topanga from Boy Meets World, because she was so cute AND smart, until he discovered Madame Curie (smart science women are HOT!).

Got tattled on, to Splinter, by Leo, for knowing a “Madam”.

Still to this day prints out pictures of Madame Curie photoshopped in a dominatrix outfit and posts them randomly in Leo’s room.

Leo

A very CLINGY baby.

The type that will not sleep unless you are holding him and then will wake up the moment you try to put him down.

Even in the crawling stage he would chasing Splinter to wherever he was and cling to his robe.

Cooking?  Leo’s hanging on to the robe.  Washing dishes?  Leo’s hanging on to the robe.  Meditating?  Leo’s crawled into your lap.  Showering?  Leo’s crying outside the shower stall until you get out.

In fact, the only way Splinter taught Leo to walk was to take the sash off his robe and put it in the toddler’s hand so that Leo thought he had a hold of Splinter.

Enjoyed watching wrestling with Donnie, loved to practice the moves on Donnie so that he could be experienced enough to use them on Raph.

LOVED board games as a kid (namely Clue, Risk, and Battle Ship).  Heck, who’s he kidding?  He still does!  Don’t ever agree to play with him, you’ll be playing for HOURS (food and sleep be damned!).

As a kid Leo grew more focused on winning his father’s approval through helping to parent this brothers.  

Bonus?  He got to boss them around!

When Splinter would leave the lair on errands he would leave Leo in charge, Leo it called it “Do What Leo Says” time.

More often than not, the entire time was spent with Leo and Raph arguing and the two younger brothers running amuck.  Donnie surfing God knows what sites on the internet and naked Super Mikey trying to see if turtles can really fly.

Love to tell Raph that he saw monsters under their beds or ghosts in their rooms just to even the score for causing trouble when Splinter left the lair.

Feels slightly bad about that now....after all, this HUGE hulk of a brother still sleeps with a Gloworm for goodness sake!

[mysewingadventures]

How To Tell Victorian Clothing Apart By Decades

First and foremost, Karolina Żebrowska made a video about this quite some time ago explaing everything in detail, but I just wanted to make my own little checklist and mention some things that I’ve noticed for myself. Of course, this list won’t be foolproof as I’m only going to talk about the most popular styles at the time and people technically could have made a regency gown in 1900, but... that’s not the point. For the sake of being able to show everything with pictures, I’m going to leave the Regency period out as I’ve already made a separate post about it.

The Victorian era is commonly packed into the visual of a brown bustle dress and/or the typical wide dresses of the Civil War, but the Victorian era actually spans over 64 years and many, many different styles.

Queen Victoria was crowned in 1837, so let’s start in the 1830s.

The 30s were wild, and that’s one word to describe it, but that mostly goes for the first half of the decade. Huge sleeves and full skirts were the thing, often in patterns inspired by wallpaper. That’s right - stripes, florals and anything that stood out was the hit. The off-the-shoulder look is just as important though, that’s what creates the round shoulder shape, together with the puff sleeves. The waistline sat a little higher than the natural waistline and was usually adorned with a belt. In the second half of the decade the sleeves started to "travel downwards", as in they started smocking or gathering the top part of the sleeve and just leave the pouf at the bottom.

The 40s left the puff sleeves and bright patterns behind, leaving high necklines, tighter sleeves and lowered the waistline to its natural position. Something very popular was the gathered front of a bodice and that trend even lasted into the early 50s. Skirts grew a little wider, requiring more support from layers upon layers of petticoats.

With the 50s here, ruffles came into fashion. If you see a wide, ruffled skirt, it’s probably from the 1850s. Some bodices extended over the hips now and almost looked like coats. Another important aspect: the pagoda sleeve. And obviously it’s important to note that the crinoline was finally patented in 1856. No more layers upon layers of corded petticoats! But this meant that dresses could be even wider than before. However, keep in mind that in the 50s, the crinoline had a round shape whereas in the 60s it started to become oval and extended further towards the back.

With the 60s, ruffles went out of fashion and synthetic dyes were invented, this meant brighter colors for a wider population! Actually, synthetic dyes were already invented in 56, but just like everything it took a while to make all the colors and really catch on so I’m counting it towards the 60s, because that’s when brightly colored dresses really took off. I find that especially evening dresses look very similar to 50s evening dresses so for me the best way to tell them apart is to look at the shape of the crinoline. Not to mention that a lot of people certainly continued to wear or slighly altered their 50s dresses but with a new crinoline.

Now we’re in the bustle era - the shape of the crinoline became slimmer but extended further towards the back, creating the bustle. I still find myself struggling telling mid 70s styles apart from the 80s, but there are some things I look at.

Firstly, the shape of the bustle. Early 70s style bustles are still pretty wide compared to the later silhouettes. Generally, you can say that in the 1870s, the profile of the bustle has a more gentle curve, the curve is not as steep. Also, a lot of 70s day dresses have trains. Many people actually started recycling old 18th century gowns into 1870s dresses so you can see a lot of inspiration and similarity in the shapes and how the dress is put together. The collars often mimick those of 18th century gowns and the back is draped like it was on a Robe à la Polonaise. Towards the very end of the 70s, bustles went out of style and women wore their dresses without a bustle.

Now on to the 1880s. Like I mentioned, the style was very similar but the bustle came back into fashion and became steeper. The necklines on day dresses were high and the collars weren’t square anymore. The draping of the overskirt still stuck, but the skirts became overall a little less wide. Very popular in the mid 1880s was draping the overskirt asymmetrically. That is the best giveaway if you’re unsure. Trains on day dresses still existed but weren’t as common as in the 70s. And once again, towards the very end of the decade the bustle went out of fashion, this time for good.

The 90s - certainly my favorite decade in the 19th century. Big sleeves were back! But no off-shoulder day dresses and the waistline was at its natural position. Pretty much all skirts were now straight in the front and gathered in the back - a very popular look. The size of the sleeves and the width of the dress reached its peak in 1895 and after that it all decreased in size again until the puff sleeve went out of fashion in 1898-99. Bodices had a slightly looser fit than in the decade before but were still tight-ish.

Now, the Victorian era only lasted up until 1901, but I’ve decided to add the 1900s to this list just because I really like that decade as well and think the clothes are really pretty.

So, in the 1900s the silhouette changed once again. Now, loose lace blouses were all the rage and the so-called pigeon breast silhouette was created with the help of an s-bend corset and a lot of stategical padding, a frilly corset cover and a loose gathered bodice. At the waist, you’d usually find a silk belt called a sash that matched the dress. The straight front skirts stayed but changed their shape slightly to be bell-shaped and flare out at the bottom. A lot of lace was used for gowns as well as frills and dainty details. But on the other side, a working woman would usually just wear a light colored blouse with a usually dark skirt and wear a belt to tie the outfit together.

So this was my way to tell the decades apart! I specifically love 19th century fashion because every decade is so different from the one before and it’s so fascinating how quickly styles changed back then.

[azems-familiar]

Tell me about the corruption arc Bestie

oh bless you are going to get Such a textwall and i do not even care

what i am currently most emotions about is. how Revan's entire outlook shifts so gradually through the war that she doesn't even realize it's changing/changed! like, she gets to this point where she ends up literally not able to completely remember why she went to war in the first place - it was about revenge, wasn't it? wasn't it? hasn't it always been about- saving the galaxy and about destroying the Mandalorians and about winning?

and like! it hasn't! when she first went to war it was out of compassion, it was this determination that she would do the right thing when no one else would, because the galaxy was being BROKEN and no one was stepping up, and what are Jedi if not compassionate, and what are Jedi if they do not stand by the oaths they took when they were knighted? and like- yes, she was determined to win, but she was determined to win so that no one else would suffer the way the Cathar did, so that she could find justice for their deaths, and the line between justice and vengeance can be so blurred at times but there is such a clear difference at the same time and what Revan ended up doing at Malachor- it's the latter, not the former. violence begets violence begets violence and it's a cycle and in committing a genocide against the Mandalorians to make them pay for a genocide of the Cathar it's just perpetuating this cycle, and early Revan would've- seen that, or at least known it wasn't the right way to end this!

but she gets so caught up in her own legend that she loses all of it. like- how to put this into words in a way that isn't just exploring it through prose. she has the mask and it's originally the symbol of her promise, of her commitment, but it becomes this symbol for her and for her victory from the moment she wins her first battle with it, and the Jedi who follow her, who took her name as their cause, they already see her as their leader. and the Republic starts talking about her as a hero and tying this all to the mask, and it just keeps getting worse and worse as she wins more and more because she is being heralded as this savior and she was told from a young age that she was meant to save the galaxy and she'd never thought it was true, not really, but now- well, she starts to doubt. she starts to believe, maybe, that she really is meant to

and like. the sacrifices are such a huge part of this, i don't know if i can completely explain it. Cassus Fett is out here constantly pushing her to see how far she'll go, and the problem is, the strategies work. she uses people as pawns and it's this constant. sacrificing the few to save the many, and it works but it takes its toll on her. it gets her seeking out absolution from Alek and it gets her justifying it to herself as sacrifices are necessary in war because sometimes, sacrifices are necessary for the greater good and war, this war, is for the greater good, so it follows from there, and originally it's a justification but she comes to believe in it because her sacrifices are winning, not just battles but the war, and she's constantly being told by so many people that she is saving the galaxy and it all just- sinks in. and the mask becomes her in all the ways that matter, because she cannot stay human and cope with everything she's done, everything she's killed.

and also! she has to be right at all times. every decision she's made in this war, it has to be the right one, because if it isn't - if she was wrong - she made these choices for her pride and her pride alone, and she can't handle that. she has to be Right and the Mandalorians, especially Fett, have to be Wrong, and she can't see any shades of grey in this (despite Everything she does being this mess of grey) because she can't confront the fact that her own pride is what lets her really lean into this savior thing. she has to be better than the Mandalorians because if she's not-

if she really is the same as they are, then what was all of this for?

and like. she is angry, she is arrogant, she is proud, these are her flaws, her faults, and combined with this desperate need to prove herself that stems from how she was always regarded as too angry and too attached and too dark by a lot of the Jedi growing up, especially a couple certain masters who i will not name but would like to murder, it all just snowballs into this. she has to be the legend because she has to prove herself and also she needs to Win and she needs to be Better and she needs to do all of this and she physically cannot do it as a human. so she makes herself both more than and less than one. and more than this, like! there's this whole thing where. she cannot accept responsibility for her own role in all of this. she cannot lay the lives of everyone she's sacrificed for her victory on her own shoulders, otherwise she will break, because she is twenty-two years old when she goes to war and twenty-five when she gives the order to activate the Mass Shadow Generator and that same compassion that led her to go to war makes it impossible for her handle the Guilt of everything she's done.

so she turns. and she lays it all at Cassus Fett's feet. because he is the one who drives her into these sacrifices and he is the one who pushes her and he is the one who- on and on and on, she turns him into the villain and the scapegoat and like - yeah, the Mandalorians are at least half at fault for all this, but no one is forcing her into this. (except Vitiate, all of this has been Vitiate from the very beginning, and that's why it's all a tragedy because there were no right answers and at the same time Everyone was right and there was never any other way any of this could end - Revan will always go to war and Alek and the Exile will always follow and Malachor V will always burn) she makes Fett into the personification of all her guilt and she turns it all into anger and she declares that she will get revenge on him for everything he's made her do and so she kills her guilt in the dirt on Dxun, stabs Fett through the gut with his own spear and takes the breastplate off his still-living body to turn into her own armor as proof of her victory, and in his final moments he tells her that they are the same and she looks at him and says that is why you have to die because no one, no one can know that in the end, she Is just like them. that when pushed into a war, she fights for the thrill of battle, that she wants the victory more than she wants anything else, that she is no longer a Jedi and she isn't sure what to do with that.

Fett dies, and then Revan turns, with a golden beskar breastplate and a red sash added to her black robes, and she goes to Malachor V and she kills Mandalore and she shatters the Mandalorians into dust for all their crimes (for all her guilt) (for all her rage and bitter determination and the last dying shards of her compassion). a planet dies, the Mandalorians die, and a war is won and the Republic is saved but that isn't enough. it's not enough. she no longer knows how to be at peace, she has turned herself so successfully into the mask and the legend that without the war she does not know how to exist and so she- goes to find a new one, because the galaxy isn't ever going to be saved.

and the worst part of all of this is- there's this moment, this battle. the second battle of Althir. she's been making bigger and bigger sacrifices but she's never directly fired on her own people before, but this battle - it was all a trap, of sorts, and she is losing, and there is this moment in which she has to choose between a strategic retreat to save her fleet and her people, or a victory, or winning even though it means deliberately killing tens of thousands of her own people to do it. and it's sort of this point of no return for her when maybe things could be different - maybe she could turn back, maybe victory doesn't have to be all-important to her - and then they can't, and she can't, and it does. and she gives the order to kill off a third of the ships she has with her for that victory.

and she does not mourn it.

because sacrifices are necessary in war.

and in the end, living up to the legend she's made herself into - being it, completely and utterly - has become the most important thing to her, more important than saving lives.

and this - it's why she falls, in the end. she makes the conscious choice to become Sith (she was very much hovering on the edge of the Dark, but she wasn't completely fallen) after escaping from Vitiate, because the Jedi weren't strong enough to defeat the Mandalorians, and like - it's not the same, but also, yes it is. it all leads here. everything she has ever gone through leads to this moment, standing on Korriban, surrounded by dust as red as the blood that soaked it a millennium ago with the cold wind stretching her cloak out behind her, when she ignites her violet lightsaber and names herself Darth Revan.

(Revan, still, because her name is not a name, it has not been a name in years, her name is a title in the mouths of her Jedi and her soldiers and her enemies, Revan, Revan, save us, Revan, kill us, Revan, lead us to victory.

and she will.)

[azazelsconfessional]

((so i was gonna open up my askbox again but I got distracted doing this and watching streams i think idr what i did the past few hours, buuut there's something I need to cover first, especially since there are so many new people around! Hello! Especially since so many of you are playing OCs/MCs.

Don't worry, it's a tip to hopefully help you along! It may get a little long, especially as I try and provide examples. . .but hopefully it'll help.

I'm gonna talk a lot about OCs but this applies to canon characters too a bit. It certainly helps.

Tl;dr, you should have a character profile page.

(also remember that tumblr mobile doesn't really have direct access to Pages made with the Pages function on desktop, so you'll have to link them manually in your pinned or description or host them on another site(I used Google Docs in the apst) or in a regular post(this makes it very easy to lose as a forewarning) for maximum accessibility!)

(rules pages are also really really handy if you have alot of resteictions.)

So, in general, OCs have a bit of a lower reception rate in rp. Idk if that'll be the case here with MCs because they're, well, the main character. Housamo is also a series that lends itself well to OCs pretty well, especially non-human ones, but I figured I'd warn for that.

BUT. That doesn't mean you shouldn't play an OC! It just means there are things you need to keep in mind!

Think of all of the OCs you've seen--you all seem to be fun and wonderful people, and your characters are surely interesting. But. . .if you don't tell anybody about them, nobody will know what's going on or where to start, which makes asking questions a little hard, right? That's easier to work around with MC characters--we've played the game, we know the story, we know the characters, so we can figure out questions fairly easily based on that alone and go from there.

But with other OCs, especially those that don't represent charactera from mythology or fiction like many other characters in housamo do, there's like. Nowhere to start. We may see a face or some dialogue, but otherwise we don't have a frame of reference.

That's where a profile comes in!

Azazel-mun, I don't want to share all of the info about my character at once!

What if I don't know everything about my OC yet and want to figure it out along thw way?

The profile doesn't have to be super detailed! At most it shoule include things like the character's name and age and probably things like their location, profession, grade in school or place of work, etc., and anything you'd notice on the surface like their apperance. It's never a bad thing to include a description of their personality too, or a small section about their history/background. Little things that even you should probably know, too.

You can also section your profile off a bit into things like "surface info," "meta info," "things you could easily figure out about them," etc. That way, no one can spoil themself. Making lists like this can help you think these things through if you haven't already as well.

Let's use Azazel, a character that you probably know already, as an example here. I don't have a profile set

Name: Azazel

Species: Fallen Angel; Capra Therian - an anthropomorphic Goat (?)

Gender(pronouns): Male(he/him)

Age: difficult to calculate; several thousand years old?

Apperance age: hard to say, he's not human. Adult.

Origins: banished from his home world of Eden, has been in the human world for several thousand years

Profession: Priest of dubious denomination, most likely Catholic or Protestant; teacher at Daikanyama Academy; de facto head of the Missionaries Non-Profit charity Organization; supervisor of the Aoyama Missionaries

Role & Rule: Watcher; Revelation - allows him to see anything within the territory of the Aoyama Missionaries and anywhere the pages of his Artifact see

Apperance: Azazel is a 5'10"(180cm) tall, anthropomorphic goat of ambiguous breed, with fawn fur all over his body and lighter fur on his head and around his neck. He has brown, riged horns which curve out and back. Though his eyes are often closed, when opened they're red. He always carried around a leather bound bible with an eye on the cover, and is never seen without several chains on his person, although only the one(s) around his neck can be seen unless he's undressed.

He wears a black priest's cassock with a maroon sash and a capelet of the same color, with the same eye as on his bible on the shoulders of the cape, and brown dress shoes. The front of the robe is always open to expose his bare chest and the chains beneath.

Personality: Azazel is kind and doting, very fitting of both a teacher and priest, although his openly flirtatious, lustful, and secretive nature causes others to distrust him. He doesn't mind this at all. He has a strong adoration for humans, and values love in all of its forms more than anything. He's a bit of a passive person, often being unmotivated but working hard regardless, and seems to prefer to watch others and the world go by, although he won't decline most invitations to take part in it. He is always aware of anything that happens within the extensive territory of the Missionaries, and seems to know and see just about everything about anyone he meets, from their surface to their soul. . . .

If you know Azazel, or take note of some of the wording or question marks, you'll note I didn't explain everything(although I may have shared more than you want to.) This is just a bare bones exampe of how I do my profiles--but it can get even more bare!

I'll do two this time, a more vague version of Azazel's, and another that obscures information all together, using the same or a similar format to the above.

Name: Azazel

Species: anthropomorphic goat

Gender(pronouns): male (he/him)

Age: unquestionably an adult

Origins: Eden

Profession: Priest; teacher; head of a charity NPO; member of the Missionaries

Apperance: Horned goatman of slightly above average human height. Light brown fur, blond fur-hair, red eyes. Wears priest robes and a gold chain around his neck and chest. Carries around a bible with an eye on it?

Personality: Kind of eerie, but friendly and affectionate. A little flirtatious, especially towards humans. Seems to know everything about people for some reason?

Compare it to the one before--see how I've left even more things off or left things ambiguous while still sharing what's necessary or surface level? However, it's also not as engaging or as informative as the other one where I gave more information.

As someone who plays him, profiles like this aren't as helpful for me lol since he knows so much about everyone and everything, having a lot of details helps me play my character!

Now, as helpful as this is, this is also a character you probably know. So how about I do this with an OC? Normally I'm extremely detailed in my profiles and such, especially for OCs, sharing headcanons and ideas for relationships between characters. But, again, I'll try and show how you can show some info while leaving some up to people to ask about to later be filled in.

Name: Kezia

Faceclaim/Art Source: [this is where you would put where you get the art for any icons you use--if you draw it yourself, say so; if you use official art from a series, credit the name of the character and the series; if you use picrews, link the specific picrews. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN PERMITTED TO USE. DO NOT STEAL ART. IF YOU CAN'T FIND THE CREDIT, ASK SOMEONE TO HELP YOU, DO NOT JUST SAY THAT IT ISN'T YOURS. DO NOT USE ART YOU HAVE NOT BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION TO USE OR THAT ISN'T FROM A SERIES OF SOME SORT.]

Species: Human

Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)

Age: mid 20's~early 30's?

Apperance age: older than she looks?

Origins: Tokyo?

Profession: Professor; Witch

Apperance: A fidgety woman who looks older than she is. She looks anxious and confused as often as she looks curious and confident. Wavy light brown hair. Often carries around schoolbooks and is never alone, always with a Rattus Therian and often with a Nyarlathotep.

Personality: seemingly anxious, but curious and exploratative nonetheless. On the awkward side, but can still keep up with the Nyarls that accompany her. Gets into trouble when she gets ahead of herself in exploring and learning about the arcane, but her Rule allows her to disappear easily.

History: Has always been curious about magic and attempted to run through a Gate when they began to open up. Performed a summon and brought a certain transients to Tokyo and recieved her familiar and the magic to use her Rule as a result. Currently teaches at a college. She stumbled into a certain someone while attempting to explore time, and became a fan ever since.

That tells you a fair amount, doesn't it? Even for someone you don't know? It may even raise some questions that you could ask. At the same time, it doesn't tell you that much, and that can be as much of a hindrance for coming up with questions as saying too much can. It's really up to you what's too much and too little. Here's a more detailed version! Some things have been left vague or confusing in such a way that they could be filled in after being revealed through asks and play. That way, people are encouraged to/given ideas of what to ask--and you can still share things in the long run.

Name: Kezia

Faceclaim/Art Source: [N/A]

Species: Human

Gender(pronouns): Female (she/her)

Age: mid 20's~early 30's?

Apperance age: somewhere in her 30's, maybe even a little older

Origins: Tokyo, with some sort of connection to at least one other world

Profession: Professor of [?] at [?] Academy; Witch

Role & Rule: [?] & [?]

Artifact, Summon, Familiar?: Always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and some sort of man-rat? She also carries around a book that's labeled as a Grimoire, but it's rare for someone to be both a summon-user and an Artifact-user. . . .

Apperance: A fidgety older woman wearing a labcoat and a witch's hat. She looks quite stressed and has trouble sitting still. Her ashy brown hair is thin and a little wavy, with some strands of gray. Although she often squints, she doesn't wear glasses. She carries around a lot of books relating to maths and sciences and one labeled 'Grimoire' decorated with arcane symbols from Gehenna and Old Ones. She's always accompanied by at least one Nyarlathotep and a very short, bearded man who can best be described as a brown rat therian with a human-like face. Sometimes there's a normal rat on her person or in her pockets.

Personality: Kezia is a fidgety and anxious magic practitioner. She's very curious about other worlds and has been since the Gates appeared in this Tokyo since she was a child, however she has been pursuing magic before then. She often appears somewhat confused about or fascenated by even her usual surroundings, but, at other times moves through the world with confidence even in unfamiliar territory. She also likes rats and other rodents, and as such will often avoid felines and birds of prey. She has a tendency to disappear, seeming to walk through walls despite assuredly being alive.

She's a little bit awkward with people, but somehow keeps up with Nyarlathoteps nonetheless. She's a good teacher, once she figures out how to explain things in ways others can understand easily, but can be a bit difficult to follow and flighty up until then. Aware of this, she's rather patient, if a little down on herself at times. However, she most often simply has her mind elsewhere. Despite this and the company she keeps, she's relatively sane. . .most of the time.

She shares a name with a witch from the world of Old Ones who made a pact with Nyarlathotep, believing him to be the Devil. . .and the ratman always at her side uses the same name as that witch's familiar as well. It's. . .probably just a coincidence. . .who would rightfully make a pact with Nyarlathotep?

History: Kezia is an adult human from this Tokyo before the apperance of the Gates and construction of the Walls. She's explored various witchcraft pursuits since she was a child, with what was originally a mere imaginative curiosity and fascination. After the arrival of the Gates when she was still young, she snuck over the fences built around one and attempted to go inside the massive pillar of light, which she attributes to the reason she often seems to struggle with her vision. Several years later, she performed a successful summon and she recieved her familiar, Brown Jenkin, transformed into a somewhat therian form from one of her pet rats, and was given some powers from Nyarlathotep. She has no discernable control over any of the chaotic creatures, however they seem to spend time around her regardless.

At present she's a professor of a subject that interests her at a certain college. She's had other dangerous run-ins due to her excitement over the arcane and "darker" arts, but doesn't seem to show any signs of stopping. However, after an incident in an attempt to explore time itself, she encountered a certain guardian of time and feels reluctant for once to explore it further. . .although she's become quite a big fan of his.

. . .i ran out of steam amd kinda lost track of where i was going. idk if that helped at all really. But maybe it did! I hope it did. You don't need to use any of those things exactly by any means, but that's the kind of thing you usually see in profile pages. Basics like someone's name and birthday and age and apperance and a little about their personality, maybe some history. Oftentimes things like powers and weapons and the like. Interests, hobbies, ways they could be intereacted with, etc. Just stuff that'd help you know the character.

I write everything in paragraph form, but everyone is more than welcome to use a more script format. I love making profiles, myself--it really helps to think about the character and details about them. Normally I make really, really detailed profiles, but maybe I'll try and be more simple about it this time around. depends on how i'm feeling.

I know this seems weirdly hypocritical given I don't have one but when I first made this blog there were like four of us including myself. I didn't see the need for a rules or profile page because I didn't anticipate that there'd be so many of us or, like, people from other fandoms or who aren't familiar with certain characters. I'll rectify that soon hopefully. But I figured I'd pass along this idea/knowledge to others.

. . .I'm gonna go reopen my askbox now. Feel free to send asks again, ask about this, etc! You can send me an IM too if you want. I'll properly close up the guest event tomorrow. I'm real tired rn lol so idk how much i'll get done, but i usually do things super late at night my time, so i have some time to pull my shit together haha))