#owl jewelry chest

[councilofcastamere]

ADORNMENTS | AEMOND TARGARYEN X DAERON’S TWIN!READER

a b r i d g e m e n t : your older brother Aemond loves to shower you with gifts. one day, you’ll pay him back.

TW: smut, targcest, oral (f receiving) penetration, riding, missionary, childhood love,

A/N: reblogs but most of all comments are immensely appreciated!

Aemond couldn’t remember the day when you drew your first breath alongside your twin brother, Daeron. All he knows is that the Gods had shined light upon him that day.

He had gotten blessed with the only one that could have ever drawn his attention like it did.

Like you did.

4-year-old Aemond witnessed the sunlight shining upon your face as Queen Alicent flaunted you in her arms, Daeron held in the King’s arms.

Your laughs could only be translated into melodies as they entered the prince’s ears. Your skin was almost porcelain and your eyes were peacefully closed. You were wrapped around the purple blanket as if you were a present.

His thoughts felt overpowered by a desire to hold you. He climbed up next to his Queen Mother and tugged on your blanket, signalling to hold the new blessing that came into his life.

“Aemond wishes to hold his new sister,” Alicent remarked, smiling as she looked down upon him. She very carefully positioned you into his small arms, staying close as to keep an eye.

“A family man, he will be.” the king laughed, very carefully swinging Daeron in his arms.

Aemond, ignoring the speaking of his parents, wrapped his small arms around your small body, regarding you as if you were a gem to keep in his palm. He held you closer to his chest, and brought his lips to your forehead, before hesitantly returning you to your mother.

And as you turned older, you grew only closer to him. It was as if he were your shadow, and you were his. You would do everything together.

He was infatuated with you, always opting to bring you your favourite pieces of jewelry, your favourite silk dresses and your favourite flowers.

Eventually, you shared your first kiss with him.

It was the hour of the owl, and you were holding a candle to your chest, waiting for the prince to sneak into your chambers. Your hair was tied up into braids, which made for a beautiful updo.

“Sister.” you heard a voice. it was Aemond’s.

But it didn’t sound all too delighted.

“Aemond?” you ask softly, observing him sitting on the edge of your bed. “What happened?”

He didn’t wish to tell you, but your angelic voice compelled him as if he was answering the gods.

“…they gave me a pig.” he murmured, passionately angry. his fists clenched at his side and he didn’t dare look you in the eye.

You knew what he meant. You always pitied having him watch you ride starfyre. You only prayed he could get one of his own.

You crawled over to him, his back facing you. You delicately rested your chin on his shoulder, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“If a dragon doesn’t like you, I don’t like a dragon,” you murmured, whispering into his ear. “You over any dragon, big brother.”

Just then, his head turned to you. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. You felt your throat go dry, and you liked the feeling. You liked having him look at you like that.

You closed your eyes, and the second you did, you felt his slightly chapped lips on yours. You savoured the feelings for a couple of seconds, before attempting to brush your hair out of your face. His hand eventually came up to your rosy cheeks, cupping at your jaw, while your hands settled themselves on top of his unoccupied hand.

You very gently pulled away, smiling at his lips.

From that day on, it was sealed.

He was infatuated with you, always opting to bring you your favourite jewelries, your favourite silk dresses and your favourite flowers.

You loved it, and as you blossomed into a woman of age, you remained appreciative of his efforts.

But you wanted more. You wondered if he loved you so much, why hasn’t he bedded you yet? It made you insecure. What if the kisses mean nothing, and he only sees you as a sister, not good enough to bed?

You didn’t wish to come to conclusions, or accuse him of anything, but you only prayed you were able to ask him without feeling humiliated.

After all, what if he felt pressured after you asked him, and it won’t be as good?

You wrote all of your concerns down on a small paper, your quill clumsily spilling over some of the characters. You carefully folded it into a heart and left it under your pillow.

Which was a mistake.

Imagine Aemond’s shock when he came into your chambers to place your newest present under your pillow, only to find the paper.

Imagine his guilt as he reads how his little dragon has been feeling neglected.

And imagine his lust at your words, having everything you wished he’d do to you written down on the little paper.

You were inexperienced and some of the things made no sense, sure, but he got the idea of what you wished for.

So he did the only thing he knew how to do. Wait for a better time. He carefully stuffed the paper back under your pillow, and the present back in his hand.

With a swift turn, he departed your chambers, his golden locks cascading behind him. He’d have to make you see his love, sooner or later.

And that evening, you did not notice anything amiss when you strolled inside, your handmaidens at your side.

You opted for a pretty green dress, your hair beautifully done into a loose braid. You wore your green earrings to match your gown. Your nails were washed and clipped thoroughly, and you insisted on a clean bath before all of it.

“I’ll speak to you later!” you called out to your handmaiden as she left you in privacy. you always knew where Aemond would be waiting for you. you loved times like these, where you could dress that gorgeously only to be with your pretty big brother in your chambers.

You quickly settled on your bed, reading a small book Aemond got you from the Vale about different mountains. Aemond always knew what you liked, to your delight. You’d even wondered if he had any hidden presents here.

Time felt like an eternity as you waited for Aemond, and you began to doubt his arrival. Your eyelids began to close but you were insistent on waiting some more moments.

You tried to, but your slumber overtook you, and you ultimately lost yourself to the night.

Only then had he come in.

You had drifted up to slumber, your beautiful gown lifted past your hips. Silly girl, he thought, watching your glistening cunt spread out into the cold air. Your beautiful eyes were closed, hair sprawled all through your silken pillows, and soft sighs leaving your lips.

You looked so beautiful, the true image of Valyrian beauty.

His footsteps just forced him to close the proximity. It was out of his control.

And as you lost yourself in slumber, you missed the way his hands slid up and down your beautiful legs, lifting one as he pressed a kiss to the heel of your foot.

No, that wasn't enough. A kiss on the ankle will do.

Perhaps a kiss on the calf.

And he couldn't make any excuses any more, his lips hastily trailing up to your upper thighs, his hands hastily thrown over his shoulders. His mouth pressed an open kiss to your cunt, losing himself in the heavenly taste of your confined flesh.

You shifted slightly, your beautiful back arching as you let out a sleepy moan. Poor girl, you probably thought it was a dream. A mere reflection of the desire that occupied your mind.

Aemond was well aware of your feelings. Your beautiful gaze always drifted onto him, sitting on his lap as he read you a book about Valyrian gods, his clothed cock rubbing against your pretty clothed cunt every time you tried to read for yourself.

So, who was he to not reward you for your patience? His tongue gently penetrated your hole, licking all around the throbbing beauty. Your beautiful lips made the sweet melodic noises he'd soon become addicted to, his tongue poking your hole faster, causing you to squirm and your hips to buck into his face.

"Ae-amond?" you groggily whispered, gasping at the sight of him between your legs, his lips glistening with your juices.

"Hush, sweet sister," he replied, kissing all around your thighs and the lips of your cunt. "It feels... pleasurable, does it not?"

All you could do was nod, too tired and too riled up to fight your common sense. You cracked a smile, your feet gently pulling him closer as he kept ravishing your swollen hole.

"Aemy.." you whisper, bucking your hips. "What if mother comes to bid me goodnight?"

He hummed, his tongue working on devouring your pink delight. His hands squeeze both of your thighs.

"How much I do not care," he uttered, a hand rising to grope your soft breast. "I could die a happy death in between these legs."

"But then you wouldn't see me again." you chuckled, bucking your hips into his face. his smirk widened as his one eye trained on yours as if it was a hypnosis.

you cried out as his tongue lapped at your folds, quickly flipping the two of you so you could do it at a pace of your own. your hands gripped the headboard, and you brought yourself to move your hips as if it were a swing.

his eye was still on yours, and under your folds, you could still feel his smirk.

"ae-aemy." you pant, moving your hips in a circular motion. "I-I..."

"I know, sweet sister," he replied, gently lifting you off him. you whined at the loss of proximity and felt the cold air on your bare skin. "The best thing hasn't happened yet, however."

you could only manage whines and moans as he guided you backwards, your cunt moving from his mouth to his cock. your hands held on to his shoulder, your thumbs slightly pressing into the sides of his neck. you felt the warmth of his hands on your hip.

"Careful..." he warned, slowly easing you down on his cock. you felt the thick length slowly opening up your virgin hole, your face red with unease.

his eye flickered up to you, and he let out a smirk as you attempted to sink to his cock, his tip kissing your cervix.

his hands slid up from your thighs to your round ass, firmly massaging the skin. you looked at him, and pressed your lips to his as you let the feeling sink in.

“Do I start to move?” you murmured against his lips, face uneasy with pain. “It hurts, Aemy.”

“I know, my sweet.” he whispered against your lips, lips trailing across your jaw. “It hurts for a maiden’s first time.”

You nodded, and could only bite your lip as you slowly moved up, with his hands shifting to your hips, massaging circles into them.

Aemond only wished he could take it faster, to finally feel himself marking your womb as his. He had loved you for years and absolutely hated the fact you did not feel loved. At the end of the night, he decided, you would feel loved.

You slowly moved yourself back down, and you winced in pain. You locked eyes with Aemond, only to find his eyes closed. He pulled your body down to press your lips against him, your moans of pain muffled.

Your agony slowly began to dissipate into pleasure, and you could feel the prince’s soft moans as he thrusts his hips up, filling you up. You moaned in pleasure as you bounced, your hands on his chest.

His veiny hands reached up to your hair, undoing the hair your handmaidens had spent an eternity on. It allowed for your beautiful locks to cascade down, covering your pink nipples.

“Aemy…” you moaned, breathless gasps leaving your mouth as his skin slapped against yours, your round breasts bouncing a sight for sore eyes. “I-I love you. Too much. Only y-you.”

His eye snapped open at that, and he quickly flipped you two over, towering over you. His lips marked your neck as you writhed and arched. His hands groped your breasts, moving your hair out of the way.

“Shh, sweetness,” he whispered, his nose brushing against yours. “I know. I know.”

His large girth split you in half and had you gripping the sheets, your legs widening even more open.

He could only let out moans and groans, concentrating on filling you and making you feel pleasure.

“One day, we will do this to bear children,” he tells you, kissing along the side of your face. “You will become my wife, and always stay at my side.”

You could only smile, rolling your hips up.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked with a slight grin, kissing your chest and collarbone. “Waiting on me each day, each night. Wrapped in my sheets and eager to welcome me.”

You nodded eagerly, his hands pushing your knees to your chest. Your face was red, with tears streaming down your beautiful eyes.

You panted and kept panting as you felt a knot tighten up in your stomach. You breathed heavily, your walls clenching around his length.

“Aemy!” you cried out, thrown between the sheets as you wildly threw your head back, hips bucking ferociously against him.

You bit your lip, face red and teary as you came close, holding him closer to you.

“Let it out,” he murmured, nose rubbing against your neck. “Listen to me.”

You obliged, and as the knot in your stomach snapped, sticky white juices came sprawling out, clenching around and milking his meat.

His eye rolled back at the feeling, and he let out some more thrusts, before slowing down immensely and pulling out, frowning at the loss of proximity.

“Sit still,” he ordered, and you did as he asked, while you felt your chest being painted with his creamy juices.

“Now…” he panted, pulling you to lie against his chest. “Do you still doubt my love? Do you still wish for me to prove my love?”

“Hm?” you shot up, heart jolting at his question. did he read the paper under your bed? gods, you could have died right there.

“Hm?” Aemond mimicked you, placing a finger under your chin and lifting it to make you look at him. “I don’t wish for you to ever doubt my love. Ever.”

You only nodded, kissing down his chest causing his heart to soften.

Aemond had finally bedded you, and you couldn’t wait to repeat it all.

[newlyfoundwren]

Something I don’t think is talked about enough when it comes to Percy Jackson is that the female characters are allowed to be pretty.

The most obvious example of this is Piper because of her character arc of going from her literally crying her eyes out to try and make herself look ugly when she gets claimed to fully embracing and reclaiming femininity and using her charmspeak like it’s her sharpest dagger is top tier writing and nuance from a middle aged man.

But I think an example that isn’t talked about enough is Annabeth. Annabeth, written by anyone else would fall into the trope of “stoic female badass that is hyper logical and doesn’t do makeup and emotions and needs a man to make her soft.” But in Percy Jackson, Annabeth is allowed to wear jewelry, (the owl earrings in titans curse and the coral necklace she got from Percy).

But also the way Percy describes her. Yeah she’s hot when she’s covered in monster dust about to slit someone’s throat but just the way he describes her naturally, not in danger, not super dressed up, but when he sees her again in the last Olympian.

“My heart did a little relay race in my chest when I saw her.” (Page 46)

Or just a few pages later when they were doing cabin inspections.

“I found myself staring at her”… “I mean, sure , she’d always been cute but now she was starting to be seriously beautiful.” (Page 70)

It’s little things like this that just elevate the writing from an action-adventure/fantasy book about going on quests and fighting the gods to a true masterpiece.

TLDR: the books are great because women get to be realistic and not caricatures

[zevrra]

JJK—

synopsis: just some random hc’s i have for the men of jjk!

tags: fluff only, the men of jjk, nanami kento, choso kamo, geto suguru, gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, hc’s, short & sweet

creator notes: will make a part 2 for this >:3

nanami !!

— is totally that “i will take care of you in every aspect” guy but i secretly think he’s pretty possessive too

— doesn’t get jealous easily

— flip flops between being a total morning person (on his days off) but the days he has to “work” he’s the opposite

— love/hate relationship with coffee bc he def drinks 8 cups of it every morning and feels gross after he does it

— the epitome of cleanliness and perfect hygiene

— like 100% he uses top of the line shampoo and body washes and after shaves and cologne!!

— ALWAYS smells good and it’s a mix of amber, some kinda wood, and probably something soft like vanilla

— feel like he’s cheap when it comes to stuff for himself but anytime it involves you, he’s buying you the best of the best

— leaves you notes all over the place whether it’s on the fridge, next to your side of the bed, sending flowers to your work space with a note attached, all just to tell you how much he cares and loves you

— willingly works overtime for you :3

choso !!

— sleeps until 4 pm every day

— a true night owl, mans HATES the sun

— feel like he’s super photogenic but hates taking photos unless you’re taking them

— would work any electronic like an elderly man

— “i can’t find the settings on this thing. where is it i’ve been looking for it for 15 minutes!” “it’s right here” “oh. how did you do that?”

— either has no scent at all or smells like iron/cinnamon/or straight up blood im so sorry skshskhkdhsk

— you both match everything from jewelry, especially rings, to outfits

— sleepy eye bags 24/7!!!

— takes a 5 minute shower but sits in the bathroom on his phone watching the loudest videos he can for 45 mins before he gets in

— loves spicy food!!

geto !!

— leaves gifts in your rooms without a word

— is the type to “i saw it and it reminded me of you so i got it”

— loves wholeheartedly. full chest, heart, mind, body, and soul

— willingly hands you his hoodie after he’s done wearing it

— quality time & gift giving is his love language!!

— heavy on quality time, he wants to sit or stand beside you and just coexist 24/7

— matching tattoos and piercings

— scary guard dog bf!!!!

— actually doesn’t mean to be but he kind of loves it a lot when other guys run away from you(him)

— his pet names for you range from “babe” to “stinky” and everything in between

— probably smells like sage & citrus

— he takes the longesssst showers ever and always invites you to them

— let’s you braid his hair, falls asleep every time you do it

gojo !!

— wants to touch you constantly!

— you’re either holding his hand or sitting in his lap anytime you two are together

— loves loves loves hugs

— gossip QUEEN! omg he’s so nosy

— “did you HEAR about this????” and it’s either the most basic information or straight up gossip gold

— always emphasizes the MY in his pet names for you

— “oh my love!” “my darling.” “hmm my princess?”

— a jealous, jealous man >:3

— loves to show you off until someone other than himself looks at you jshsjshk

— is the type of dude who acts all funny and tough in public but the second it’s just the two of you, at home, he wants to be babied and have his back scratched 24/7

— doesn’t tell you when it’s going to be chilly out so he gets to tease you as he hands you his warm jacket

— plans surprise dates all the time

toji !!

— is never caught wearing anything other than sweat pants

— wore a suit once for your first date and then never put it back on

— his love language is probably a mix between physical touch and gift giving

— has a hand always placed on your thigh!!

— his favorite season is winter and when you ask him why he just says he likes the cold

— it probably also has to do with wanting to keep you warm too

— is the type to: “i hate wearing bracelets” “ok ill just take it back” “no fuck you i’m gonna wear it and never take it off”

— literally keeps everything you give him in a box so he doesn’t lose them

— uses 13 and 1 shampoo

— calls you his old lady(affectionate) unironically

— smells like cigarettes and cheap ass beer KSHSKHS

— when he’s actually clean and sober he probably smells more like heavy wood and fire/smoke

— is a massive HEATER when he sleeps and he always sleeps on his back

— sleeps in the nude

[phoenix--flying]

a collection of random pjo hcs that are canon to me

ethan nakamura and drew tanaka are stepsiblings

annabeth and luke had snake like teeth - their incisors are sharper then normal

lee acts like a crow, collecting shiny things like rocks and jewelry

the titans called alabaster 'little general' to annoy both him and atlas

annabeths pupils dilate differently, either blowing too big like an owl or shrinking to a slit like a snakes

lee and gracie are full siblings

lou was in the army, died during the war and then came through the doors of death

luke has another scar across his chest/abdomen from ladon

kronos branded all the half-bloods in his army 🤗

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: you hadn't been sure what to feel after demanding Ajay bring the others. bring everyone. it'd been reckless, stupid. Wally you had figured had been fine, perhaps even Ajay too, but everyone? it had either been the dumbest thing you'd ever done or the smartest. thankfully, you'd learned enough about the others to know what topics to avoid and which to use to your advantage...

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.22

You sat in the dining room, the French doors closed for privacy. Your family was in various positions around you as they helped you study the pile of file folders your mother had exhumed from the enormous wooden chest in the basement.

The dining room itself was large yet cozy, eclectic, lived in; it was where your mother brought her clients for readings and spiritual counsel. A round table took up the middle of the room; a tea tray and plates of finger foods were placed in the center where a hokey crystal ball normally sat. Shelves along the back wall were stuffed with books from the Barnes & Noble witchcraft section, boasting titles like, "A Witch's Guide to Garden Magick," and, "Spells & Incantations for a Better Life."

The plum-colored ceiling was decorated in constellations that Andrew had painted the week before your mother began marketing herself, and the wood floor was covered in a layer of Persian rugs thrown here and there that had absorbed the heavy musk of the incense your mother burned during sessions.

It was a beautiful room, to be sure, and you hated every inch of it. All the frivolous bits and bobs that encouraged people to believe a lie mocking you from their perches. Portraits of people who meant nothing to your family; taxidermized crows and owls and foxes. A mounted stag's head, because why not? It added to the rustic, sorcerous atmosphere.

"What about Rhonda Botezatu?" Ginny inquired around the stem of her cigarette holder. She was done up in a silk kimono, purple hair peeking out from beneath a bronze turban. An homage to Old Hollywood starlets who'd aged into roles they'd rather die than assume. Her thin fingers and wrists were bedazzled with chunky costume jewelry, but her neck remained bare. Apart, of course, from the delicate silver pendant she rarely removed.

You couldn't help smiling at her. She was absolutely marvelous.

"Rhonda..." You began, trying not to peer down at the notes. "Died April 1964. Murdered by Alfons Manfredo, the guidance counselor. She was really into Beatnik Culture and was going to study Engineering at UC Berkeley." You wilted, looking down at the yearbook photo paperclipped to Rhonda Botezatu's dossier. Rhonda stared up at you, the hint of a smile on her lips, clever eyes bright beneath layers of eyeliner and mascara. Your heart lurched.

"I used to watch her and her younger sister, Daria, when she was a child. Her parents were neighbors." Ginny divulged, using her cigarette holder to point out the window as if to indicate the exact house. "Her older sister, Yetta, was a pain. Refused to babysit; too busy husband-hunting, but Rhonda was a hoot. Questioned everything." Ginny chuckled, rolling her eyes, "Pecked at me all day, asking this and that. Couldn't shut her up unless I put on a record and let her dance out all that energy." Her eyes went distant, a fond expression settling into her features. "Precocious. Would've changed the world if she'd been given the chance."

Your mother huffed, hovering over you as she rifled through the mound of documentation. "You skipped Janet Hamilton."

"Ooh, that idiot," Ginny slumped forward dramatically, an impression of being utterly disgusted by something. Your mother cleared her throat with intention, eyes narrowed in distaste. Ginny sighed and rolled her hand regally in your direction, "Alright, chicken, tell us what you know about her."

You stifled a giggle into the back of your hand, sharing a fond look with Andrew at Ginny's antics. "Okay, Janet. She died in 1960, but...I didn't see how...did I miss that?" You asked, scanning the sheet of paper you'd pulled from the dossier.

"No, sweetheart," Nanna assured, "There's no record of it that I ever found. Of course, by the time I started gathering information, a lot of time had passed." You could tell she was trying very hard to search her memory. Unfortunately, however, it seemed she kept finding only blank spaces.

"It was an accident of some sort," Ginny piped up. "Broke her neck somehow. Falling down the stairs, I think."

Nanna frowned, shaking her head at herself, "I vaguely recall some mention of it...honestly, you'd think I'd remember." The laugh that bubbled out of her was strained, tinged with disbelief. "She was my math tutor." A glance at Ginny to confirm, "I could've sworn it happened right before I started middle school."

"Don't look at me," Ginny scoffed, "Maybe you should scribble it down before you forget to again." She looked at Andrew, roping him into the joke, "You need to get your mother checked out, Drew, before she starts forgetting your birthday."

Positioning her reading glasses just above the tip of her nose, Nanna plucked the paper from your hand, adding, in beautiful cursive, a note about Janet's death. "You did forget his birthday last year..."

Ginny took a quick sip of her sherry, rushing to defend, "Oh pish, I did not. I told you, the gift was delayed." And then, as a side note, "Poor Reggie really is losing his mind," though she didn't sound worried about her old friend cum antique dealer. Rather, it was a pitying statement of fact, said in the manner most elderly people use when discussing each other's senility. She put her sifter down and whipped a taunting stare at Nanna, "You know, Babbigail, had either of you listened when I suggested you try the Sudoku, you wouldn't be losing your marbles quite so early."

"Oh, baldercrap," Nanna retaliated, "I'm just as sharp as I've always been!" She narrowed her eyes, mock-accusing, and presented to the room, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were cheating."

"Cheating?"

"I wouldn't put it past you to use spells all willy-nilly for your benefit."

Nanna winked at you when Ginny scoffed, outraged, straightening her spine and puffing out her chest, "Oh, how very dare you! My own sister!? Implying I would ever turn my back on the Circle!" She lifted the back of her bejeweled wrist to her brow, "Judas!"

You and Andrew dissolved into fits of laughter at the theatrics. Ginny and Nanna bickered often, always making a show of it for everyone's entertainment. It was one of many reasons that you were glad you were all under the same roof, even when it got crowded sometimes.

Behind you, your mother wasn't as amused by the performance, scoffing as she patted your head, reminding you to, "Focus, sweetheart, you only have two days to memorize all of this." She flashed an annoyed look between Nanna and Ginny, "If you two are finished, maybe we could get back to it?"

Ginny sagged sideways against the back of the chaise longue, waving dismissively with her cigarette holder, "No need to get worked up, Alice. The girl has plenty of time to sort all this out." Still, she gestured for you to move on to the next student.

Bernadette King, died in 1969 after tragically falling from a height in the old gymnasium. Then Dawn Burton, died in 1972 by accidental electrocution. Next was Yuri Vyarheychyk, a transplanted Belarussian boy who'd somehow fallen head-first into a kiln during a pottery lesson in 1978, succumbing to severe burns before the ambulance had arrived.

"Are you guys sure I should go there?" You asked, face twisted in concern as you absorbed the seemingly endless pile of information on the table, evidence that too many awful things had transpired at Split River High before now. "It sounds kinda dangerous."

"You'll be just fine," Ginny said, "You're too important. The Awen won't let anything happen to you." It sounded like something a great-aunt was obligated to say, those reassurances that you were the 'most specialist of special children.' In a world where you'd witnessed something profoundly horrific take someone you'd considered more special than yourself, your great-aunt's statement was of little comfort.

Nanna reached across the table and petted your hand affectionately, tacking on, "You have nothing to worry about. We've all attended and we're just fine. Your sister actually really enjoyed herself."

You gave her a tight smile, "If you say so," then accepted the next dossier Andrew pulled out of the pile.

"We're getting into the 80s, now." He informed, eyes twinkling as he stared over your head at your mother. "Starting with the totally hunky football star—"

"Don't start," Your mother warned. You could feel the look on her face, something eye-twitchy and vexed.

Andrew snickered, rising to the challenge, and tapped his finger on the photo clipped to the front of the folder. It drew your attention down to a face that—your breath caught, an unusual warmth blossoming within you as you took in the young man grinning up at you from the photo. The print in the top right corner said his name was 'Walker Clark'. He was...hot. Like center-of-the-sun hot. Soulful, brown eyes, kissable lips, hair swept back in a perfect 80s poof.

Andrew whistled, long and punctuating, forcing a blush to rise on the arches of your cheeks. "I think girly's got a crush," He ruffled your hair obnoxiously, "Aurora had the same reaction when we put her through the paces. 'He's so hot, oh my god,'" He mimicked in a high falsetto, "'If I could see ghosts, I'd literally ask him out, I don't care.'"

"Rory had to do this too?" You wondered, eyes never wavering from Wally's handsome face.

"Of course she did, chicken. Everyone has to. Even your grandmother had to and she can't see ghosts." Ginny explained.

"But why? If Nanna and Rory can't see ghosts, what does it matter?"

Nanna smiled sweetly at you, "Understand, dear, abilities don't always manifest fully at an early age like yours did. Before Aurora entered high school, her empathy was very subtle. Then, in her junior year, out of the blue, she could identify each ghost without batting an eye. If the Ciorcal of the Craft allowed it, I bet she would've had whole conversations with them without needing to see or hear them."

You knew Aurora's empathy was acute, how she could wield it like a weapon or a gift depending on her mood. You'd never tell her, but you found it pretty remarkable. Almost envied her for it. Your life would be much easier if you couldn't see the dead.

"That's why we do this, chicken. It's a contingency, just in case our powers manifest late or they mature faster than we have time to do something about it." Ginny elaborated and it made sense. Similar to Aurora and Nana, Andrew hadn't had any indication that he would develop Connectedness until much later, but now he gleaned incredible things from objects on command.

You didn't realize you'd been staring at Wally's photo the whole time, not once looking up to acknowledge those around you, until Nanna leaned over and voiced, "He was very handsome, wasn't he," obviously having been observing your predicament, "And so respectful. His mother and I were in a book club together with some of the other moms from the school." Suddenly, her tone shifted, turning solemn, "Bea was hard on him, though. Drove him to be the best." She sighed, "I really felt for him."

You listened with half an ear, more interested in pondering what Wally had felt about the pressure his mother supposedly put on him. Had he been equally as motivated? Or had he buckled under the weight of expectation? A tiny sliver of your soul yearned to have the chance to ask him, ignoring for the moment the Rule that your whole family lived by.

"Come on, sweetheart," Your mother's voice interrupted your thoughts, "we have a lot to go through and 2004 is going to be tricky." She flipped open Wally's folder, thus forcefully removing his face from your line of sight, doing for you what you hadn't been able to do for yourself. You exhaled a shivery breath, swallowing thickly as you accepted the first of three typewriter-typed pages. Your mother pointed to the third line of the second paragraph, "Alright, let's start here..."

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Ajay had smuggled you into the school and up to the roof, managing to keep you from being caught. There had been one close call when Barry had treaded around a corner, flashlight up, demanding to know if anyone was there when your sneaker had squeaked against the linoleum. You'd watched in fascination as Ajay had manipulated his ghostliness to his advantage. He'd marched right up to Barry who, as a living person, had been unconsciously driven to avoid the invisible obstacle, his brain having fed him some rationalization or excuse that had sent him on his way. Piece of cake.

Presently, you stood near the roof's edge, fidgeting nervously as Ajay helped two people over the raised side of the portal, one after the other. You gulped, your heart beating faster and your palms clammy as you took in who they were. Rhonda Botezatu and Charley Morino. Fuck...shit... Instantly, you regretted telling Ajay to bring everyone. God, could you get more stupid!? This was such a bad idea, your mother's voice reverberating inside your skull threats of squalls and storms and ill-fated summonings. Despite the desire to stand your ground and do this for Simon, your soul trembled in despair, unable to shake the feeling of failure after years and years of being told not to let them know you can see.

You squirmed under Rhonda and Charley's attention, your eyes flicking up to their faces and then back down to your shoes as your nerves began to fray. God, Simon, you fretted, I hope it's worth it. 'It' being all the possible repercussions you could face should anyone discover what you'd done. And the more who knew what you could do, the more it was likely that someone would find out.

As you contemplated your friend, a shadow flickered over Rhonda's shoulder. A there-and-gone impression of movement that had wobbled like hot air rising from a desert road. You squeezed your eyes shut and opened them again, seeing nothing to indicate what you'd witnessed had ever occurred.

"Isn't that the chick Wally was hung up on a couple of years ago?" You heard Rhonda ask Charley as they approached. Strangely, they moved as if they intended to make room for someone else between them, but, as you checked on Ajay's progress at the portal, you didn't see anyone else emerge.

"I'm not sure..." Charley answered her, openly studying you through slitted eyes; suspicious, cautious, clearly unsure what he thought about you. Still, he emanated a warmer, more welcoming aura than Rhonda who was all attitude and cool eyes. "If it is, we owe him a massive apology."

Rhonda didn't seem to agree, "She'd better make it up to him. Took him forever to stop sulking."

You were both pleased that Wally's friends had his back and cowed at the reminder that you'd basically gaslighted him in sophomore year, and Rhonda seemed keen to hold that against you. Surreptitiously, you kept peeking behind Rhonda and Charley, willing the universe to be kind and deliver Wally's fortifying presence to you. With him beside you, you felt you could handle Rhonda's cutting remarks and Charley's weighted stare.

As if on cue, the connection began to rumble and roll inside you, rising with more interest as you felt Wally get closer, and your heart started to pound for an entirely different reason.

"So," Rhonda started as she stopped two feet in front of you, arms crossed and expression tightly controlled, "You can see us."

You didn't know what else to say apart from, "Yep," wincing as it fell out of your mouth.

Rhonda's glare turned lethal, "And you didn't think that maybe you should try and help us?"

"I—"

"Oh, no, wait, that's right, you decided to help Ajay and leave the rest of us to rot, is that it?"

Charley reached out and touched her arm, sending her an expression of warning before returning his attention to you. "I am curious about why you decided now was a good time for a big reveal?" He asked in a roundabout way, tone sprinkled lightly with denigration.

That, at least, was a simple answer. "Simon's in trouble and I want to help get him out of it."

"Right," Charley looked at Rhonda, briefly seeming to cast behind her, then looked back at you, "The o t h e r living person who can see ghosts. Are you guys part of the same coven or...?"

As sarcastic as he sounded, you sensed his genuine interest and decided to expand on—wait, "Simon can what?"

Ajay's words from earlier flew out of the ether and into your head: "Everyone just got over Charley keeping Simon a secret." Well, fuck me sideways. At the time, you'd been too distracted by the fact that Ajay knew about you and Wally. Then that, of course, had been eclipsed by Ajay's purported friendship with Aurora that she'd never bothered to disclose. With all those thoughts vying for attention, your brain had swiftly filled in the blanks about Charley and Simon with something that made enough sense to keep you from poking at it. Charley, you'd guessed, had kept Simon a secret like most teenagers keep their crush a secret from their friend group. To avoid getting teased.

Thinking about it now, you realized that was the second-most idiotic thing you'd ever come up with after encouraging Ajay to give you an audience with a bunch of ghosts you were supposed to avoid like the plague.

"Are. you. fucking. k i d d i n g. me!?" You dropped into a crouch, top half folded over your knees as you dug your fingers into the back of your head, wholly and utterly defeated by the endless siege of fuckery that had been unleashed since last Friday.

"We'll take that as a 'no'," Rhonda remarked, sounding as though she was checking her cuticles. "So, what are you? A necromancer or something?"

"No," You said miserably into your knees. You rose, rubbing your temples as you tried to process everything while simultaneously explaining, "And I'm not a witch, either, so you can forget about that coven bullshit."

You were getting riled up, angry, confused; Simon could see ghosts, too? Seriously? That could have made the conversation you and he had had on the swings a helluva lot easier, dammit. But, nooo, he'd kept that to himself. And, honestly, fuck Aurora, too, because you'd spent the last three years of your life on edge and constantly alert when you could've, maybe, given fewer shits?!

Another odd, shadowy flicker distorted the air almost directly in front of you but you ignored it, your frustration gaining momentum because, fine, yeah, you hadn't said anything to Simon either, but what the fuck anyway—!

Just as you were about to scream into the void, a warm, calming sensation swept over you, the familiar scent of Wally's cologne and the pomade he used in his hair curling under your nose like a cartoon wafteron. You tilted your head up, eyes immediately locking on his, and the tension seeped out of your muscles. Wally's steps were measured, his jaw tight, shoulders squared as if he was fighting to control himself from jumping on you.

Right. Ajay had insisted that you and Wally act as if you'd never interacted. Earlier, it'd been easy to agree, the connection subtle and at ease; now, you weren't so sure. The syrupy-slick sensation lulled you into a dreamlike fog, transfixed by Wally's closeness. You watched Wally's throat bob when he swallowed, eyes drifting to his lips before slowly tracking back up to meet his heavy-lidded gaze.

"Hi..." You said, voice catching as Wally neared.

The others observed with assorted expressions of confusion and intrigue, Rhonda asking, "Whaaat the hell is happening?" to which Charley replied, "I have no idea..."

Ajay explained on your behalf, tone entirely put-upon, "It's the cRaZiEsT tHiNg. I noticed it before. Like they have some kind of mYsTeRiOuS cOnNeCtiOn drawing them together..." Glimpsing at him, you saw Ajay's features had flattened, his demeanor projecting exactly how done with everything he was, yet you couldn't find it within yourself to care. Wally was right there, gazing at you with soft eyes and a lopsided smile.

The flicker appeared again, though, unlike before, an almost physical energy came with it, arcing outward from its source into your front, forcing you back a step. A look of alarm spooked Wally's face. He lurched forward a step, simultaneously bringing his hand up as if to place it on something.

What happened next happened so quickly that you almost didn't catch it. As soon as Wally's hand made contact, a featureless silhouette popped into existence. You couldn't make out who they were, could hardly register anything as you stumbled backward another step in surprise, the back of your leg hitting the low ledge that lined the roof. From there, gravity took over, pulling you down as you teetered precariously over the wrong side of the ledge. Everyone reacted at once, Rhonda and Charley reaching out, Ajay yelling and grabbing the silhouette, and Wally—

"No!" Wally shouted as he leapt forward, grabbed you by the front of your sweater, and hauled you tightly against him before you plummeted several meters down onto the concrete below. He whirled around, planting himself between you and the ledge, his nose in your hair, heart hammering under your palm, panting from the adrenaline rush. His embrace was viselike, keeping you together as a jolt of fear shot through you.

"Are you okay?" He asked, eyes the size of saucers as he cradled your face in his big hands.

You peeked helplessly up at him, a lump in your throat and pressure behind your eyes, Jesus Christ, you'd almost joined them in the afterlife...but that wasn't the thought that blared in your head like an air raid siren.

"Do it again." You commanded, breathless, gripping Wally's arms and encouraging him to turn around. "Touch whatever you just touched again."

He blinked at you, dumbfounded, obviously not understanding what the hell you were on about.

"Whatever you just did," You instructed, "do it again," placing your hand on his shoulder to show him what you meant. Although he continued to stare at you like you'd grown a second head, he released you and moved back. You marveled as he stepped forward a few feet, picked his hand up, and then placed it down seemingly in midair. Except it wasn't midair. It was a shoulder that became visible under the weight of Wally's hand.

He shot you a peculiar expression, eyebrows drawn in doubt, "Uh...like this?" And then he stepped aside.

You gasped, going very, very still as your mouth fell open and your eyes bulged, a single, quivering utterance tumbling out of you. "Holy shit."

Everyone, including Wally, watched you in wonder, completely oblivious to the miracle that had just occurred. Everyone including—

"Maddie!?"

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY-ONE - PART TWENTY-THREE

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

[latoyalestrange]

heirloom

s. sallow x reader

summary: drabble based loosely on this request. to be honest i think if i wrote this with any angst at all it would be too painful lmao so here is a fluffy version where sebastian gives you his mother's necklace and its just a really sweet moment.

words: 630

warnings: fluff, establish relationship, sebastian being hot and dominant, aged up seb and mc, not edited!

you'd gotten an owl from sebastian during free period while you were studying in your dorm.

Meet me near the lover's lookout. Urgent.

S

you instantly smiled at his scribbles. you'd missed him all day, having a completely different class schedule than his. deciding not to waste any more time, you quickly fixed yourself in the mirror and left to meet him at your designated spot. it was a short walk across the hogwarts lush grounds before you could spot him pacing on a nearby hill with a small, cobblestone courtyard on top. the autum leaves danced in the breeze around him and the sunset made it look like his skin was glowing. you didn't notice the smile that instinctively appeared on your face as you quickened your pace. his expression mirrored yours as you caught his eye when you approached.

"ah, love. there you are." he sounded relieved as he opened his arms for you to curl into, kissing the top of your head when you closed the gap.

"i missed you all day," you mumbled into his chest, taking in his comforting scent. "what was so urgent?" you craned your neck to meet his dark eyes that looked like tiger's eye stones in the sunlight. you could see his face shift as he swallowed, his tie seeming tighter than before around his neck.

"i...have something for you." he patted his pockets frantically after stepping back, looking in his pockets nervously. a blush formed on your cheeks, he was always giving you little gifts to remind you of his love for you. he wasn't the best at writing poems but he was an incredible shopper.

"ah, here..." he dug in the pocket of his trousers and held the small contents out to you in his hands. you saw a delicate, sparkling chain with a brilliant stone pendant that changed colors when you shifted it in the light.

"oh, sebastian..." you were breathless as you stared at the gem in his hands. "it's stunning!" your hands covered your heart as if to protect it from the overwhelming sweetness.

"it was my mums." he looked down at the necklace in his hands adoringly, a sad, but content smile on his lips.

"oh, you don't have to--" you began to refuse, but he interrupted you.

"i want you to have it." his eyes finally met yours again, smile still unfazed. you couldn't find any words as he walked around you, brushing your hair to the side. his fingers ghosted over your neck, sending bumps across the skin around them as he wrapped the cool metal around your neck and clasping it together. he fixed your hair once he was finished and pressed a loving kiss to your temple, comforting you slightly. you looked down at the jewelry that now decorated your bosom with amazement, taking it in your gentle palm. he came back into your view, relishing in the sight of his family heirloom around your neck.

"i don't deserve this, sebastian." you shook your head, feeling entirely unworthy of such a beautiful and meaningful gift. he stepped towards you, palming the side of your face with his toned hand, forcing your gaze to lock with his.

"hey, none of that." his eyes trailed down to your lips, then to your chest. "you are to never take it off. understood?" you didn't have the courage to protest as you saw him looming over you with such a firm grip on your face. you nodded instead.

"understood." it was your turn to trace your eyes over his plush lips, silently begging for contact. it was visible in the way you bit down on your lower lip with anticipation. he granted your wish, your lips connecting tenderly. you huffed as he pulled away.

"good."

reblog if you made it to the end!

[evewasheretoday]

More (Movie) Heathers Headcanons but it's their habits!

Heather Chandler:

She always carries a mint tin.

Tucks a strand of hair behind her ear when she's annoyed.

Taps her foot when she gets impatient while waiting.

She always wears a signature piece of jewelry to either flaunt her family's wealth or the fact she's at the top of Westerberg's social hierarchy.

Starts every morning before school with tea.

Organizes every thing she has— her books? They're all alphabetically in order on her bookshelf. Her tea? They're all in order by what type of tea they are.

Heather Duke:

She bites her nails when she's nervous.

Bites her lip when she's thinking about things really deeply.

Twirls her hair when she's anxious.

Hums softly to herself when stressed.

Crosses her arms to her chest when annoyed.

She either sighs or rubs her forehead when she's frustrated with something.

Heather McNamara:

If she has a pen and she's thinking about things more than she usually would, she's going to click it repeatedly.

Taps her fingers on things (usually and specifically desks) when she's distracted by something.

Doodles on her notebooks during class when she's bored.

Always has a pack of gum with her for relaxation or fun.

She doesn't notice it but she intertwines her hands together whenever she's talking to someone.

She taps her foot when she's waiting but unlike Chandler, it's usually when whatever she's waiting for is exciting (a date with Kurt or Ram perhaps).

Veronica Sawyer:

She starts every morning before school with a cup of coffee (Chandler tells her it's the reason why she always looks terrible in the morning).

She's a night owl who stays up late at night writing in her diary.

Carries her diary and pen with her everywhere— Girl's washroom? She still has it with her even there! Needed or not.

She may or may not know about it but she has the tendency to clench her fists when she's annoyed.

She shakes a bit when she's mad.

She walks around in circles - back and forth - when she's thinking about things deeply.

[butchgambit]

In light of butch gambit (& femme rogue soon #trust) gaining traction (amongst butch versions of many others), I thought it'd be fun to share my rogue and gambit headcanons here! I'll place it under a read more since it's long :]

(little disclaimer: some of them are already in canon but rarely touched on again or is only implied so I've listed them here anyway in case y'all are wondering why something's listed that seems familiar!)

general Gambit hcs:

permanent burn scars on his hands & forearms + faint scars on his palms as well

has moles all over his body + shoulder freckles

has beauty marks all over his face

tan/sun kissed complexion (slightly darker than canon)

eyes glow into his signature pink when he's visibly angry or using a lot of energy of his mutation 

broad shoulders with a slightly curved waist + a little tummy 

hairy body but usually prefers to keep his facial hair to his scruff/stubble

has rounded cheeks but a chiseled chin & nose

has matching scars with rogue from being impaled with her (see: X-Treme X-Men (2001) #16-#17)

has faint scars on his back, knees, & legs

has a crooked/hooked nose 

prefers gold jewelry

had his ears pierced in multiple places (lobe, upper lobe, helix, tragus, flat)

paints his finger nails occasionally

loves to buy cringey matching shirts with rogue to wear around the house

gets matching items for the cats & him

stress cooks/bakes

has slight eye sensitivities to bright lights

tends to be a night owl but makes sure to be awake before rogue to make her breakfast & coffee 

more personal Gambit headcanons: 

intersex stone butch on T 

t4t butch4femme

top surgery scars that formed a flame like appearance

has undiagnosed audhd 

has ptsd & sexual trauma he masks

fidgets with his cards or things he keeps in his duster pockets

cut off the headpiece to the X-Men uniform so his hair would stick out bc he thought it looked stupid 

prefers to keep his hair neck/shoulder length until it starts to bother him 

loves having his hair played with by rogue 

has an intense hair care routine 

has a hard time letting rogue help him with tasks around the house 

has chronic pain in his hands & arms 

gets phantom burning pains all over his body when his antarctica trauma gets triggered

^ gets triggered by extremely cold weather + during the winter but he deals with it better with time & with rogue's help + reassurance

quit smoking but chews on items when he's distracted or stressed 

gets jealous & possessive over rogue but then feels guilty about it 

love language ranking is quality time —> words of affirmation —> physical touch —> acts of service —> gift giving

enjoys taking candid photos of rogue, the cats, & the team + has a general love for photography

keeps a flash of all the photos he's taken in a safe so nothing happens to it 

has rogue help him with doing testosterone injections since he's afraid of needles & medical things due to trauma

general Rogue hcs:

extremely curly hair + dark brown

her white patch of hair covers the top half & flows down into a stripe towards the middle of her hair

her eyes are more of a bright hazel green

has perpetually rosy cheeks

freckles along her nose & cheeks & a few scattered towards her forehead

has pouty full lips

has a warm yet slightly pale complexion due to covering up

light scattered freckles on her shoulders, back, & chest

has dimples & a soft, round face

her nose is less of a button nose & more downturned at the tip

has toned arms & legs but a soft belly & pronounced curves

has a matching scar with gambit from being impaled in the heart (see: X-Treme X-Men (2001) #16-#17)

^ the healing factor she absorbed from wolverine made it not as prominent as gambit’s

prefers gold jewelry & likes to wear some of gambit’s

has faint scarring all over her body from before she had absorbed any healing factor

has beauty marks on her nose & cheeks

wears clip on earrings since they're easier

pretends to hate the cringey shirts gambit buys but wears them more often than he does

stress cleans & bakes

always cuddles with the cats in the mornings before getting out of bed

doesn't talk & only makes noises in response to gambit until she's fully awake/had her coffee

tends to be clingiest (/pos) in the mornings & before falling asleep

attempts to make gambit’s favorites when he's having a bad or rough day until he ends up cooking with her to help

is incredibly stubborn, much more so than gambit

prefers baking & is better at it than cooking

personal Rogue hcs:

nonbinary high femme lesbian

t4t femme4butch

is autistic + has ocd & ptsd

has sexual trauma

even before her mutation she struggled with lots of touch which only then furthered when it manifested

makes sure her gloves are always the right texture

pulls at her hair & fingernail skin when frustrated or overwhelmed

tries to befriend any animal or critter that she can/will let her

doesn't mind getting a little dirty outside but too much can trigger her ocd

her southern accent gets extremely pronounced the angrier she gets

has sensitivities to touch & sounds due to her own mutation & the other mutations she's absorbed

enjoys reading romance, thriller, horror, & fantasy novels

enjoys watching super cheesy & crappy movies

picked up painting as a hobby to help her work through when her mind is busy or through her trauma being triggered

love language ranking: words of affirmation —> physical touch —> quality time —> acts of service —> gift giving

gets jealous & possessive over remy who indulges in it which makes her smug

has a skincare & hair routine when she has the time

makes gambit join her in her skincare routine & got them matching headbands

loves the little touches from gambit either on her skin or over her clothes

buys Gambit cute band-aids to put on him after helping with his testosterone shots

[cheezieypoofz]

can I get uh…

Stan x Fem!Reader x Craig SFW & NSFW poly relationship headcanons pls 🙏 ?

take ur time & hope ur doing well :3

,,, HEADCANONZ

Ztanley Marzh x F!Reader x Craig Tucker

ZFW & NZFW Dating Headcanonz!

DIZCLAIMER: headcanonz are hard for me to write, zo i will only write headcanonz for my mutualz. alzo, ztan might juzt be the hardezt character for me to write, zo i zend my deepezt apologiez to moon if it'z not up to her ztandardz alzo i think i lied when i zaid there waz gonna be more nzfw headcanonz than zfw- i went a little overboard teehee. i'm zozozozo zorry if it zeemz ruzhed!!!

WARNINGZ: pet namez, mentionz of zex, zub&dom mentionz, mentionz of threezomez, waizt grabbing, implied p in v & p in a, ztaig mentionz

ZFW

; How did you three get together?

; You most likely forgot all about each other, luckily enough, Bebe wanted to have a little get-together with all her friends from high school (my dumbazz couldn't think of anything elze-)

; After maybe a year or so of catching up, becoming friends, and then developing crushes on each other, confessions are made

; I feel like Craig would fall first, and confess first

; Craig was definitely on the more open-minded side of being in a poly relationship, Stan, still being open-minded, but a little reluctant

; Being reluctant only because of what others might think, he's a little paranoid

; But, you need not worry, after weighing the pros and cons of dating both you and Craig, he agreed to the proposal

; The relationship is... rocky—at first

; They both have some issues to work out, everyone does

; But everything's better when you work it out in a group

; As long as you're patient with them, the relationship will turn out just fine

; After a couple months, and everyone figures out how the relationship works, it definitely goes from rocky to chaotic

; In a good way!

; Stan is more on the affectionate side, wanting to shower you and Craig with love

; His love language is physical touch and quality time

; Craig's being words of affirmation and acts of service

; Craig is the one who plans out all the dates, Stan only occasionally plans the more physical dates—hiking, biking, skating, skiing/snowboarding, etc.

; One of y'alls favorite dates is a picnic under the stars

;  Definitely being Craig's favorite because he can geek out; it's the entire reason why he planned it to begin with

; Stan is the type to buy y'all matching items, whether that's bracelets, shirts, pins, body jewelry, necklaces, or just anything really

; You three go stargazing together pretty regularly

; You better like animals, cause Stan LOVES them, and Craig refuses to live without Stripes NO. 7

; I feel like Stan would be trying to be a veterinarian in college, and Craig aiming to be an astronaut (and no, you can't change my mind on thiz)

; Craig loves to use pet names, but only basic ones—babe, hunny, sweetheart, etc.

; Stan rarely uses pet names—hun, sweetie, babe, and, angel

御負け ,,, OMAKE

; Craig is probably more active in the afternoon, while Stan is definitely a night owl

; They have greasy ass hair (i will die on thiz hill)

; They both use 5-in-one shampoo

; Craig seems like a smartass but is a dumbass, Stan's a dumbass through thick and thin

; Craig and Stan fight over who'll pay the bill during a dinner date, and you end up paying for it when they're not paying attention

NZFW

; The first time between the three of you was... awkward to say the least

; But, it's okay, you three got the hang of it after a bit

; Their favorite position is probably DP Cowgirl

; Maybe because it was the easiest to do—the easiest once you figured out where to put your knees at

; You and Stan, chest to chest, while Craig leans over you, hand gripping onto your waist

; Stan likes to look at your face when y'all fuck, it just gets him going to watch your face contort in pleasure

; And Craig?

; Craig just likes ass, man

; They're so competitive, they turn everything they can into a competition

; They'll literally fight over you man

; Stan looks like he whimpers and whines (zorry chat, ztan iz not a heavy dom in my mind)

; Craig is on the quiet side in bed, only letting out groans and grunts every now and then

; In my eyes, Stan is a switch leaning towards sub, and Craig is also a switch, buuuttttt

; Craig prefers to dom and will in most situations

; Craig is the type to degrade you, and so is Stan

; But Stan also likes to be degraded, yet he also likes to be praised

; I feel like Stan would like to be called Stanley when he's in the mood to be more submissive

; Stan looks like the type to crack a couple jokes when being intimate, he's still a bit serious though

; Craig is serious, there is no joking around

; He honestly gets pissed off when Stan starts joking in the middle of sex

; Which works out in your favor, but they don't need to know that

; Remember how I said they wear competitive?

; Yeah, they definitely compete to see who can get you to cum first

; Either that or who can get you to cum the most

; Craig likes to give you and Stan hickeys

; But Craig likes it when he gets hickeys too, it proves that y'all love each other

; Stan LOVES when either you or Craig bite or kiss his neck

; Craig doesn't have a high sex drive, I just don't see it

; Stan?

; I wouldn't say he would be as high as Kenny, but MAN

; It's fucking up there

; Craig is the one who usually does all the aftercare stuff

; Stan is too fucked out to do anything

; Craig will usually draw a bath for you and Stan, or start up a shower for y'all

; Then he'll carry you to bed, making sure to tuck y'all in all once and cozy

; Craig still likes to use pet names—slut, babydoll, sweetie, and love

; Stan's—my sweet angel, slut, whore, and baby

御負け ,,, OMAKE

; If you're not in the mood, but Stan and Craig are, they go to fuck each other on the couch

; And Craig will always dom if that's the case

[cameronspecial]

Before The Last Petal Falls (Part 10)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Sexual Innuendoes

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Five years later and life couldn't be more perfect for Y/N and Rafe Cameron.

A/N: Merry Christmas Eve to all who celebrate and happy holidays for those who do not. This is the final part of the Flower Universe and I am so excited for you guys to read it. I hope you guys really enjoyed this universe and have fallen just as in love with this version of Rafe and Y/N as I have. Thank you for reading!

Masterlist

The sudden pressure of little bodies on their bed awakens Y/N and Rafe from their slumber. Y/N opens her eyes to see her children staring intently at her. “Good morning, Mama,” Jack whispers as if he is trying not to wake up his father, which seems strange because he already woke both of his parents up by jumping on the bed. She smiles at her eldest and sits up to bring him into her lap. She can feel Rafe shifting on his side of the bed to bring Anna into his. “Good morning, my loves. How did you sleep?” she asks, kissing them both on the head and one on the lips for her pouty husband. He knows she expects the children to answer, but Rafe does before they do to be a little cheeky. “I slept great. I had a wonderful dream where you were wearing that red lit-.” “Okay, that’s enough from Daddy,” she jokes, covering his mouth with her hands because she knows where he is going with that dream. The children are oblivious as to what is happening and just cuddle themselves into their parents' chests. The call of sleep causes their eyelids to be drowsy. 

The quiet that overcomes the family is interrupted by the pitter-patter of the youngest Cameron child running into the room with a little doggie stuffie in his hands. Lucas runs over to his mother’s side of the bed and makes grabby hands to be picked up. Y/N leans over and brings him to sit between Rafe and her. They both wrap an arm around the boy to make sure he doesn’t feel left out. “Mommy, isn’t that your doggie?” Anna questions upon seeing the little stuffie in her brother’s hands. Y/N nods her head against Jack’s head, “Yes, baby. But I gave it to Lucas last night because he had a nightmare. It’s going to protect him like your owl or Jack’s dolphin protects you guys.” Rafe smiles down at the toy with a fond memory. “Why don’t you tell them how you got the doggie?” he suggests, ready to finally reveal the truth to his wife. 

“Sure, When I was a little bit older than you, I really wanted a doggie and when I brought one home that I found, Gramps made me return him to his owner. And that made me really sad, so Grams and Gramps got me this stuffie to make me feel better.”

“Actually, your parents didn’t get it for you. I did.”

“What? If you did, then how come you let my parents take the credit for it?”

“Because it wasn’t about the credit, my rose. It was about making you happy, which it did so I was satisfied with the result.”

“Wow, even at six years old you were absolutely whipped for me, Cameron.”

“Excuse me, I’ve been in love with you since we were five. Hear that, kiddos, your daddy played the long game and got the girl. Take that as your lesson,” Rafe describes to his children, kissing the three of them on the head. Y/N shakes her head at him and goes to get up from bed. “Let’s go make breakfast,” she orders, helping Lucas off of the bed. Rafe looks at her with a smile, “Let’s. But kids, make sure mommy sticks to toasting the bread, we don’t want the house to burn down.” This causes the three Cameron siblings to laugh their heads off. 

——

Y/N is in her home office working on her new manuscripts, when she hears the giggles of her children coming from behind the closed door. “My loves, you can come inside,” she announces, putting a pause on her writing to see what the kids are doing. Anna opens the door and lets her twin walk in first then her little brother before she goes in. The three kids run toward their mother with beaded jewelry in their hands. Rafe is not far behind them. She smiles at the gifts in their hands and takes each one of them into hers to be examined. She puts them on her, “Wow, these are beautiful. So I take it you guys liked the arts and crafts class.” The children nod at her remark and go snooping through her bookshelves. 

Jack finds a book that catches his eye and pulls it from the shelf slowly. “Mama, who is Percy Jackson,” he wonders, bringing the book over to his siblings for them to look through it together. They didn’t mean to teach their three-year-olds to read, but since Y/N practically read to them every second she could, they were prone to picking up reading eventually. Rafe and Y/N give each other a knowing look. She beckons for her kids to come to her and Rafe, who is standing behind her with his arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Well, Jack. He’s who you are named after. And Anna and Lucas are also named after people from that book,” Y/N explains, letting the kids look through the book. “Mama, why does the book have writing in it? You don’t like to write in your books,” Anna inquires, trying to read some of her father’s handwriting. This time, it is Rafe’s turn to answer. “Because Daddy wrote in the book for Mommy. He gave Mommy those books for her birthday. Each one tells her how much he loves her,” he kisses Y/N’s temple to prove the point. 

“Is that why you named us after the characters in the book?” Anna asks, which is met with nods as a response. Lucas takes the book into his hands and waddles closer to his parents, “Read, please?”  Y/N smiles down to her son and takes the book into her own. She places the annotated copy back onto her shelf and takes out a different edition of the books. “Of course, my loves. But we are going to read this copy because the other one is just for Daddy and me.”

——

The children’s favourite place in the world is the bookstore their mother owns. They love sitting behind the counter in the little chairs she bought them and reading to their hearts' content. Usually, Anna and Jack will take turns reading to Lucas. Normally, Y/N doesn’t censor what they read, if they want to read a middle-school chapter book, then she won’t stop them. However, after her three-year-old twins almost read Fifty Shades Of Gray to their one-and-a-half-year-old brother, she decided she needed to have some rules as to where the kids were picking out their books. The kids are currently in their chairs reading a copy of The Battle of The Labyrinth, while Y/N works on her manuscript between customers at the cashier. 

“Okay, so I ordered more copies of Icebreaker and more of those little cat bookmarks that have been selling so much,” Rafe informs Y/N as he makes his way out of the backroom. After they had gotten engaged, Rafe quit his job at Cameron Development and moved in with Y/N in London. She was struggling a little bit with the business management side of owning a bookstore, so Rafe offered to help and he just never stopped. Ward was beyond angry with Rafe for making that decision, but it didn’t really bother Rafe because he was angry at his father too. However, once the twins were born and with the help of Rose and his daughters, Ward saw past his anger and asked to be a part of his grandchildren’s lives. Rafe and Y/N didn’t forgive him right away, but for the sake of their children, they eventually forgave Ward and now, they FaceTime him once a week so he can see the kids. 

Y/N looks up from her computer and acknowledges that she heard him. He rounds the counter and rests his arms around her waist and his head on her shoulder. He tries to peek at what she is writing, but she quickly closes her laptop before he does. “Hey, you know you aren’t supposed to read it until it’s in the editing stage,” she chastises, turning in his arms so her arms can wrap around his neck. Rafe lets out a chuckle, “I know, but I can’t wait to see what happens to Damian. The last one ended on a cliffhanger. Although, I have a few new moves in the bedroom that I think you might want to add. It might help some poor fellow out.” He whispers the last part into her ear and she feels the heat rise to her cheeks as his breath hits the back of her neck. She giggles while shaking her head and gives him a quick peck on the lips. 

The bell above the door jingles and a voice pierces the quiet of the store. “Auntie Lace is here and she has brought gifts for her Cameron dumplings.” Lacey enters the store with a small bag in her hand and smiles when the children run over to her, screaming her name. She gets a hug from each kid and in return, they each get a cookie. They say their thanks and run over to their parents with hopeful eyes that they get to eat the sweet treat in their hands. The three of them cheer when Y/N gives them a thumbs up and they run to their chair to eat them. Y/N’s heart melts when she sees Anna and Jack each split their cookies in half to give Lucas a half each after he accidentally drops his on the floor. Rafe grins at the scene and goes to give the twins a smaller cookie from the cookie cart. 

“My second gift is about to walk through that door, right now,” Lace declares, turning towards the door and pointing. Right on time, Mason and Mabel, his fiancée, walk through the door. The children excitedly abandon their cookies at the sight of their uncle and aunt to give them both a hug. “Hello, kiddos. I’ve missed you so much,” he says, crouching down so that they can be carried by him. Jack is being piggybacked, while Anna and Lucas are being carried in his arms. 

Lacey’s restaurant opened up down the street from Y/N’s bookstore six months after Rafe and Y/N’s engagement and the Cameron family have dinner there every Sunday. She has really embraced the single-wine aunt title and she loves the children to death. The kids often spend nights over at her house when Y/N and Rafe need some time to make them more siblings. Mason met Mabel a year after Y/N and Rafe’s engagement. He had just moved to Toronto permanently and she was his next-door neighbour. The story goes that they did not like each other at all when they first met. He had the habit of playing music really loud and her fiery self didn’t stop herself from banging on his door to turn it down. However, a blackout, caused by a bad snowstorm, forced them to stay in the same room as each other because he didn’t have anything for a source of light except for his phone and this was when their love story began. 

Mabel laughs as Mason plays with his niece and nephews, and they eventually move on to asking her questions about the wedding. “Auntie Mabel, I don’t want to be a flower girl. Can I please be a ring bearer like Jack?” Anna begs. Y/N knew this was coming. Being twins meant that Anna and Jack wanted to do the exact same thing as each other, and Y/N and Rafe weren’t ones to say no just because society deemed something to be only for boys or for girls. Mabel smiles sweetly at the little girl and takes her into her arms. “Of course, you can, sweetie. Maybe Lucas can be my flower boy? Would you like that Lucas?” Mabel offers. Lucas turns towards her at the mention of his name with a smile on his face, “I flower boy.” He happily claps his hands and continues to repeat the phrase. Everyone awws at how adorable he is. “How about you close up shop a little early and we go get dinner?” Lace proposes. This is met with agreement from the children, who never turn down the offer of eating Aunt Lacey’s food. 

——

After a joyful dinner and a little bit of chaos getting Mason and Mabel settled in the guest bedroom, Y/N and Rafe can finally lie down for the night and get some rest. They both lie on their sides facing each other with a sleepy look on their face. Sparky is at the foot of the bed. Rafe reaches out for the book-shaped locket secured around her neck and opens it up to look at the picture inside. The picture of him and Sparky has been replaced with one with their children in it as well. He smiles at the picture and gives it a kiss. Y/N watches him with adoring eyes. “You know, I think I am going to need a new picture for the locket,” she mutters to him, taking his pendant into her hand. Confusion crosses his face and he responds, “Why would you need a new one?”

“Well, I think it’s missing someone.”

“What do you mean? It has Jack, Anna, Lucas, Sparky, and me. Who else could you need? I mean, I guess we can choose a picture with you in it too.”

“No, I’m not talking about me. This person will probably be here in around nine months.”

“Why? Where are they? Are you talking about your parents? Are they coming to stay with us? It can’t be Mason. He’s already here.”

She mentally face-palms herself and giggles at her husband’s cluelessness. She shakes her head, bringing herself close to him. She brings his hand onto her stomach, “No… they are currently right here.” It takes Rafe a moment to process what she said, but when he does his face turns to elation. He presses kisses all over her face, “Can’t believe we get to do it all over. I really am winning at life.” Five years ago, Rafe never thought he would be here. He didn’t think he’d get his dream woman back or the house or the children. And now, he has all of it. Rafe Cameron feels so lucky that all his dreams came true.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @f4ll-for-you @winterrrnight @maggiecc @magicwithaknife @loves0phelia @jiarapamuk @blisslove @baby19sthings @thelomlisrafecameron @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

[the-golden-comet]

✨🏴‍☠️OC Deep Dive Tag🏴‍☠️✨

Thank you for tagging me here, @mysticstarlightduck ! I’m gonna lightning round for Peter from Peter Hart

Phobias: None known

Other fears: Losing Benjamin and crew members/found family

Pet peeves: Smokers/Any smoking

3 items you can find in his bedroom: sword, rum, Benjamin storage chest

What does he notice first in a person? How much wealth they’re carrying

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is his pain tolerance? With 10 being the highest pain tolerance: 9.5

Does he go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? Fight mode, usually with a flintlock if available, or his scimitar.

Does he come from a big family/are they a family person? Peter is an only child to his biological parents, but his found family is his crew, who he inherited after Captain Johnathan Hart’s death. His gang is his everything, and he loves his large crew of dads (and Benjamin) very much.

What animal represents him best? A hart :)

What is a smell that he dislikes? Cigar/carcinogen smoke

Has he broken any bones? He’s dislocated his shoulder several times, but other than that no.

How would a stranger likely describe him? “Peter the Golden”….that notorious pirate with the golden hair? The one that robs ports and is wanted in more provinces that I can count on my fingers and toes? Would do anything to accumulate wealth and fortune, even if that means holding people at ransom? That guy?

Is he a night owl or a morning bird? More of a morning bird, but he has taken helm rotations at night when needed.

What is a flavor he hates and a flavor he loves? Hates the taste of blood, loves the taste of Benjamin rum.

Does he have any hobbies? Shooting contests, knife throwing at a target, singing sea shanties, dancing, fishing, frequenting taverns, sparring, free-climbing up cliffs.

Boom, surprise birthday party! How does he react to surprises? Bad idea. Peter has a gun and a happy trigger finger. If you’re lucky to not get shot, he’d have you in a headlock until you can explain yourself/tell him that you mean no harm.

Does he like to wear jewelry? Yes! Peter wears rings on all his fingers. They also double as pairs of “brass knuckles”

Does he have neat or messy handwriting? Messy. Very messy.

What are the two emotions he feels the most? Confident glee, and insanely romantic love for Benjamin (and psychopathy as a not-so-hidden third state of being)

Does he have a favorite fabric? Whatever his father’s clothes are. So….cotton?

What kind of accent does he have? British (voice headcanon below)

Thank you for these deep dive questions! I’m going to leave this tag +open for anyone else who wishes to take the OC deep dive as well! ✨

[sailoryooons]

The Iron Ring | Epilogue | pjm (m)

❀ Pairing:  fae prince! Jimin x human! female reader

❀ Summary: After finding a mysterious ring while cleaning out your late grandmother’s attic, you receive the unlikeliest of visitors: a fae prince who claims you have something that belongs to him. Discovering the fairytales your grandmother told you are true is the least of your problems when you’re taken to a world dangerous and unfamiliar.

❀ Word Count: 5,831

❀ Genre: fantasy au, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: Jumping around and no clear timeline, unexplained things because this is just a shortly little tie-up for scenes we didn't get in the final chapter, explicit language, sexually explicit content including hand jobs, grinding, unprotected vaginal sex, nipple play, a lot of spit and making out and overall passionate sex in a bathtub, Jimin and reader being simps TM, reader being a wicked little bitch in her scene with Jin honestly we stan because the Jiminfication of reader

❀ Published: December 9, 2022

❀ A/N: Here is the promise epilogue for just a handful of scenes to put the cherry on top of the massive overhaul that was the last chapter of this series. If reading the side character stories is something you're interested in (like Yoongi and Khione or Hoseok and Taehyung etc.) please let me know here. This sex scene is brought to you by SZA's new album thank you

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Series Masterlist | Series Playlist | Previous Chapter

“Stop fidgeting,” you giggle, swatting at Jimin’s hands as he adjusts the collar of his button up again. He’s already pulled it away from his neck several times, complaining that the human shirt-style is far too restricting for his taste.

Jimin’s taste is open chest shirts that reveal far too much skin for lunch with your mother, but convincing him that had taken a lot of begging. And kissing. And moaning.

“Your fashion here is dreadful,” Jimin huffs, crossing his arms. You’ve put him in nice jeans, a button up shirt and let him keep his earrings and jewelry on for meeting your mother. Though he wears a glamour to seem less faerie, Jimin stands out. “My chest was made for ogling.”

People are ogling anyway. Jimin has turned heads all morning as you walked into the store to buy him an appropriate outfit for lunch, and as you walked into the French café tucked in the corner of a shopping district.

Even your waitress had given him a glass of water with trembling hands, red cheeks and a stutter. You couldn’t blame her. Even dressed as a pedestrian, the King of the High Court was a work of art to look at.

“Just admit you’re nervous,” you hiss at him. “It’s okay to be nervous, you know?”

Jimin glares at you, green eyes darkening. You can sense that he’s nervous through your mating bond, but you’ve also gotten better at reading Jimin in general.

When you returned to your world a few days after the Battle at High Tree, as they’ve come to call it, you’d discovered that two days had passed. While Jimin assures you that time is different and sometimes it might be a year that passes, your world is almost always moving slower than Faerie.

Entering your grandmother’s home that first time had sent such a wave of relief that you were alive and well that you had sat in your room with walls painted of her life story for an hour and cried. When you finally felt strong enough to call your mom, it was deep into the hours of the night.

You’d become a bit of a night owl, of course.

Meeting your mom sparks your own nerves. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw her and told her everything. She had barely survived the shock of your slowly changing ears and your tales. And you had barely survived the shock of learning that your father, though not half-fae, had someone far in his bloodline that was a part of the Summer Court once upon a time.

I always knew where my mother came from, you mother had whispered, watching you with haunted eyes. But after the loss of your father, it was easy to turn it all into dreams.

Years of frustration with her had melted in that moment. You could understand now, why she had thrown out your books of magic and fantasy. Why she had been steadfast in having Namjoon curate a normal experience for you in a normal world.

The thought of losing Jimin… well it inspires understanding. Sympathy.

You don’t expect your mother to accept your half-in-her-world-half-out approach right away. And she doesn’t. The tightening of her mouth and the strain in her voice during that conversation was evident. She doesn’t want this for you and yet, she knows it’s in your nature.

Like me, once she had said. Like your grandparents and your father.

Now that you’re intimately familiar with the fae, you can see those traits in your mother. When she enters the café, she commands the room the same way Jimin had. She is sharply beautiful, with angular features that would look strange on anyone else. But her chic style and eye for aesthetics lends itself to the powerhouse of her beauty.

The chair scrapes sharply against the brick patio as you shoot to your feet. Jimin looks up at you, frowning as you ring your hands nervous as your mother approaches. For Jimin, this is a new version of you. One that is timid and awkward.

You’d never really been timid with him, even when you were afraid.

“Hi,” you greet your mother, voice high-pitched and reedy. Her gaze is sharp as a blade as she regards Jimin, lips pursed. She ripples with tension as she hesitates at the chair across from you. “It’s nice to see you.”

Jimin stands and walks around your chair, surprising you both. He bows at the waist, not a full ninety-degree angle but deeper than the king of the High Court should to anyone – especially a mortal. He looks up at your mother, a gentle smile on his lips and eyes glittering.

“It’s an honor to meet you. Thank you for taking the time to meet me.”

She looks down her nose at him, eyes narrowing a second before she nods and pulls her chair out. “Of course.” Her tone is tight, but it softens a bit when she looks at you, lips twitching in an almost-smile. “It’s not every day your only child runs off to her grandmother’s native land and comes back with a boyfriend.”

Jimin settles next to you and sips his water. “Mate.”

Her eyes narrow at him, unperturbed. “I heard stories about you as a child. Boyfriend will do for now.”

You hold your breath as Jimin swallows his water and places the glass on the table. Though he has come a long way with his biting wit and razorblade attitude, there is a moment of tension before he bows his head. “I like you, I think.”

With a humph your mother picks up a menu. “We will see if you suffice.”

Letting out relieved laughter, you lean back as Jimin slides a hand on your thigh and gives you a squeeze. You realize everything is going to be okay.

-

The throne room of the High Court needs work. The dais of diamond is scuffed, the glass throne has long since been shattered and gathered dust, and the floor to ceiling windows of glass with gold inlaid art have long since been broken, covered in grime, or cracked. Though Jimin’s court – and by association your court – is slowly coming together and there are fae returning to restore their homelands, it’s slow work.

Which means the throne room simply won’t due for an audience, which dampens the dramatic flair you wanted for your upcoming meeting. Nonetheless, the study that you’ve discovered tucked in a corner overlooking a flowing stream and garden is just as well.

Today, the windows are cast open. It’s light and airy, with a fresh breeze spinning the spider silk curtains and airing out the smell of old books. There are hundreds of tomes in the shelving that line the walls, in languages and symbols you can’t begin to read.

Though small, the study is beautiful. An ornate desk of gold with curling, filigree designs stands in the middle over a blush rug. Like everything in the High City, the palace is made of floor to ceiling windows of spelled glass and diamond.

It’s like the world is spun in gold, Jimin whispered as he led you through the palace, all clear ceiling and gold chandeliers.

Behind you, the afternoon sun throws the room in a shade of rose and pomegranate. It’s warm at your back where you stand behind your desk with your arms linked behind your back, chin set. A fine set of china sits on the desk, the teapot steaming with the scent of rose and lemon.

A knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts. You tell them to come in, lifting your chin a bit as the double doors swing open to reveal a set of guards and your visitor for the next hour.

Seokjin looks beautiful as ever, sweeping into the room in his all black, the sigil of his court stitched in silvery finery over the heart of his tunic. His hair has gotten longer and you see twinkling stars throughout the inky strands.

Stopping just short of your desk, Seokjin links his hands behind his back. He looks healthy, golden skin glowing and dark eyes swimming with fathomless cosmos that did not exist when he was possessed not long ago. Now you see the endless night in them, the dark fire of being a Shade, the whispers of the sky.

Neither one of you speaks, regarding one another. Seokjin is a king – the stars in his hair, though blinking in and out of existence like sentient beings - is crown enough. Your guards close the door and though you cannot see beyond the broad frame of the Night Court king, you can sense his Dreadwolf in the hall.

“You look well,” you offer, voice even. Seokjin gives away nothing. “Would you like some tea?”

“No bow?”

Your smile is razor thin – a trait you’ve picked up from Jimin at court. “I could ask you the same. You’re in my home at my behest. However, if it pleases the Night Court’s pride to be addressed so formally…” You dip slightly, not quite at a forty-five-degree angle, but close enough. “Welcome to the High Court, King Seokjin.”

His lips twitch, so minute you almost don’t catch it, but you sense he almost smiles. “You’ve spent far too long with Jimin.”

“You’d have bowed to him first.”

“You are my court until you marry him.”

It’s hard not to wince. It is technically true. You’re the granddaughter of Yvaine, and a member of the Night Court. The only Shade the Night Court has, beyond the king who currently stares at you with a knowing glint in his eye.

“Would you like tea?” you sigh, gesturing to the steaming pot. “It’s your favorite.”

“Trying to win me over?”

“I don’t have to,” you fold your dress against your legs and sit. You flick your eyes to the seat in front of your desk and he tentatively does the same, not quite leaning against the back of the chair. “You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t agree with me.”

“I thought it would be a funny little adventure.”

You pour him a cup, rose and lemon filling the room. “You can needle me all you want, but you know just as well as I do that you have to name me heir.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“No, I suppose that might be true. But with the rumblings of how close your court was to losing you, you having no heirs, and the fact that Jungkook can serve me because my bloodline is enough…” You tsk at him. “Your options aren’t great. So needle me all you want, Seokjin. But like calls to like, and in both blood and bone, the Midnight Tree recognizes me as the heir to your throne.”

“Why are you so interested in being named heir, hmm? Looking to continue Malik’s work with Jimin and impose your authority on the other courts again, starting with you claim to my throne?” He takes the tea and blows over it. You watch the water ripple, sensing magic. You roll your eyes – you’d never poison him. “Whatever will the other courts think?”

“They think that Jimin and his mate fought to dispel an evil from this land, saved the Night Court from obliteration when their king was at risk, and that the High Court would never do something as stupid as a conquest while they are weak and rebuilding.”

“So that’s it. You’re weak and need allies.”

“We have allies.” You feel the thunder in your voice. “You need allies, Seokjin. And I offer this meeting as a courtesy. Naming me heir does nothing for my court. My status does not change – I am the mate to the king of the High Court, I am a Shade of the Night Court, and they call me Cythraul’s Bane these days. What does title to heir of a court I don’t desire offer me?”

Seokjin sips the tea as his jaw works. You watch him with a flat expression, giving away nothing. The truth is – there is something in it for you to be named heir. You can rightfully claim the things that once belonged to your grandmother – heirlooms, houses, lands that you can sell for things that the High Court now needs.

But Seokjin doesn’t need to know that you’re looking for this title for nostalgia and money purposes. You and Jimin have already worked this out – Seokjin needs you more you need him. He needs the protection of an heir that wants nothing to do with his throne, the commitment to the Shade bloodline, and the security of hushing rumors that his little half-niece is stronger than he is.

Seokjin sets the cup on the desk. “You pick up the game fast.”

“I had a trial by shadow fire.” You don’t miss the opportunity to throw the world play in there, to barb him. Even as loose allies, you’re not friends. There is too much estrangement there. “You live an eternity. You have time to think about it.”

He hums. “I’ll consider it.”

It’s as close as a concession as you’ll get from him. So you smile, full of teeth when you lean back in your seat, pleased. “Tell Jungkook to come in. I’ve grown fond of him since he nearly ripped your head off at the Battle at High Tree.”

-

Night lily blooms in the dark green house that Jimin has given you in an empty, and otherwise unneeded room in the palace. Though it took a lot of troubleshooting – and a lot of Jimin’s help – you were finally able to suspend the room in night.

Of course, it isn’t night like the Night Court. It is artificial night, powered by a crystal that feeds off as much magic as you put inside of it to mirror the magic of the Night Court that lives inside of you. It’s a bit of clever channeling that requires a tiny amount of energy, but it makes you happy.

Especially when you see flowers from the night court with their glow in the dark throats and speckled petals, and dripping neon sap. Your heart squeezes as you grin at the lilies, straightening up from your crouch just as someone comes in.

You turn to look over your shoulder as a figure slips into the room, a single orb of fae light leading them down the dark, twisted hallways that lead beneath the castle. Namjoon grins when he sees that you’re not so in the dark as it appeared, extinguishing his light.

“Hi!” you gush, running up to him. With Namjoon, you don’t have to be the king’s consort. You’re not an heir. Or a Shade, or a bane of anything. You’re just you and Namjoon is just Namjoon, who smells like vanilla and spice when you throw your arms around him, holding him tight. “I missed you.”

Namjoon, as it turns out, is hundreds of years old. He was one of your grandfather’s best friends, and watched over him when Oberon and your grandmother left Faerie long ago. Namjoon’s ever watchful eye turned into more as he discovered the wonder of the human world.

At first, you had been angry with Namjoon. Angry for deceiving you, angry for altering your memories, angry for… so many things that you realize now, he was asked to do by a friend he had known for a lifetime, only to watch that friend die suddenly. For your grandmother, who was the last familiar face.

For your mother, who begged him to give you once chance at normal.

Though it hadn’t worked out, you were enjoying not normal. And you were happy to discover that Namjoon was no different in Faerie than he was in the human world, loving the ancient tombs of the library, tending to plants in the Citadel and studying the High Tree.

A member of the Summer Court he might be, but Namjoon is a roving Faerie at heart, who has found far too many things like e-books and newspapers and museums in the human world. He is fascinated by the moral ability to ache and hurt and make music, write and paint in such small amounts of time compared to eternity.

But he still visits. Like today, when you promised that you would show him the night garden you had been working on.

Letting you go, Namjoon holds you at arm’s length, two dimple popping out proudly as he smiles down at you. “Come on,” he says eagerly, shaking you a bit. “Show me what you’ve grown.”

-

Night in the High Court isn’t eternal, but it’s beautiful. Millions of stars paint the sky, thousands of collars and so close, you feel as though you could reach your hand up to touch them. You can see them now, flittering through the glass ceiling of the recently-finished throne room.

You’re not much for sitting on the throne. It feels ridiculous and a bit tedious to sit in an opulent room made for appearances. Well – you are working. You’ve been sharing audiences with Jimin all day, listening to the rapidly growing members of his court and trying to settle land disputes, claims to long-abandoned homes, problems with infrastructure, nixies gone wild.

The usual.

Though you find it anxiety-inducing, hearing all of these problems that the people Jimin’s court are plagued with regularly. Jimin sits in these all day. While you move about the High Court’s lands on his behalf and work with the new citizens and repairing parts of the palace, Jimin almost never leaves the throne.

You admire the way he will sit there for hours. He never cuts anyone off, he never dismisses a single person who wishes to speak with him, and Jimin lets none of the lords wishing to reclaim lands that aren’t theirs push him around.

Now, you watch as a centaur bows deeply before turning to leave the room, having been granted a larger pasture for his heard, who had been defending it for a long time once the cythraul began to come through the High Tree.

When the double doors to the throne room boom closed, and the guards bow deeply at Jimin’s dismissal, your mate finally melts into the chair, eyes closed, head pressed to the high back. Exhaustion weights heavy on him, despite how beautifully he’s dressed today.

A midnight blue tunic hangs artfully on his frame, the chest cut low to reveal tawny, smooth skin. He has necklaces on, little stars and moons and hourglasses that you’ve found all over the High Court. It seems that time and rotating spheres of planes and universes are a popular motif, and you’ve since learned that with his full powers of the High Court, Jimin is able to perform magic far beyond that of the Night Court.

Freezing objects in time in space – though he can’t freeze time itself yet – aging things forward and backward. Sensing portals and dimensions and becoming energy sensitive are all things that he remembered when he was much younger, but is once again trying to grow into.

Leaning over the arm of the chair, you brush your fingers through his silver locks. He’s grown out his hair substantially. It’s pushed back by a silver circlet with the seven stars of the courts, and an earring catches the moonlight as he tilts his head to lean into your touch.

Jimin almost purrs under the gentle raking of your nails against his scalp. He quivers under your touch, head lolling to the side as he lets go completely. You grin, seeing how much your tired king reacts to your touch.

It’s hard to get over.

“Come on,” you whisper. He whines when your hand drops from his hair and you stand. “Don’t out, it’s beneath you.”

He’s pout increases, bottom lip stuck out as he looks up at you with glossy, green eyes. Jimin has a talent for switching between a doe-eyed sweetling and a siren-eyed vixen at a moment’s notice, something that he increasingly weaponizes against you. Not that you mind.

“It’s not,” he assures.

“Fine, remain seated on your throne. I’ll just run myself a hot lavender and orange blossom bath while you- “

Jimin brushes past you, his steps silent and gait smooth like a dancer. You love the way he spins around to face you, a grin on his face. He moves through the world like a velvet ribbon, graceful and elegant as is common among the fae.

“Thought so,” you grumble as he offers you a hand and a smile.

Coming up with a palace staff is difficult. It isn’t like the Night Court, where there have been generations of faerie loyal to Jimin and the royal family. The old staff members of Malik’s court were few and far between after the collapse of the High City, and those who remain haven’t known Jimin for a long time.

Earning trust among the fae is not common. So the palace staff is small, mostly made up of allies that he made when he was in the Night Court, and a few High Court faeries who were recommended by Hoseok and even Seokjin.

Then there is, of course, the occasional Nightingale who appear and disappear on a schedule you don’t yet understand, but has been put in place by Yoongi and Khione to assure that you aren’t murdered in your sleep.

You don’t hear from them much, but you did come to your room one day to find a mysterious tomb on the history of the Night Court, it’s laws and practices that you used in your battle of wits with Seokjin. It did not have a note, but there was an unmistakable symbol that you could not remember the shape of the moment you looked away from it.

Khione, though maybe not a friend, is an excellent ally.

The palace, like the rest of the city, sits on a network of moving bodies of water. There are pools and caverns underneath the building that have pools of water that move slowly into the large lakes beyond the city limit, and over the waterfall that empties from the basin where the Citadel lives.

Because of the easy access to water, the palace has its own unique plumbing and water filtration system that turned on when Jimin poured his magic back into the High Tree. It’s like the entire place was built by a maker to respond to the magic of those who live inside of it.

That is, at least, what you gathered from Yoongi’s explanation of the building.

Inside of the en suite bathroom is rough-cut crystal dub, hewn into the floor of the bathroom. You have to be careful getting in and out of the steps once wet, but the rose quartz glows warmly when you enter and tap one of the gold spouts. Water spits from it immediately, rushing hot and steaming to fill the deep tub.

Jimin stands staring in the doorway, too tired to do much beyond admire the way you pop open a jar of salts to pour it under the running water. Next, you dig out dried lavender, sprinkling it over the filling tub, following by dried orange rinds.

You glance over your shoulder at Jimin, his eyes cat-like in their study of you. You beckon him over with a finger. He doesn’t hesitate, drifting toward you wordlessly before stopping right in front of you, looking down through full lashes as you begin to untie the two strings that hold together the collar of his shirt.

“What’s the point of the strings if you keep such an open collar anyway?” you muse, letting your fingertips brush over his warm skin. His breath stutters slightly and you smile. “Are they really there for modesty?”

“You’ll have to ask Rika.” You drop the strings and push the shirt backward over his shoulder. It falls down his middle and waist, before dropping to the floor. “I’m not in the artistry of making clothes.”

“Hmm. You give them ideas. I see you down in their little studio sometimes, pouring over sketches.”

Jimin’s skin is perfect. He is golden and warm, flesh smooth under your fingertips as you brush your hands down his chest and over is stomach. You poke his soft flesh and he flexes, making you giggle and slap his abdomen lightly.

“Show off,” you huff, fingering the button on his trousers. “Don’t flex your muscles for me.”

“I thought you liked them.”

“As insufferable as your personality can be, I rather like that instead.”

With a sharp movement, you pull Jimin’s trousers down. He’s in linen undershorts, like briefs but not. And he’s semi-hard just from your teasing touches and words. Jimin notices you looking at his clothed cock and grins. You go read, realizing your mistake when he grabs you by the chin and pulls your face toward his.

“Huh,” he clucks, nose brushing yours. He’s so close that his lips touch yours when he speaks, your gasp swallowing his words. “I think you like something entirely inappropriate.”

“Entirely untrue. Faeries don’t lie.”

Jimin half laughs, half growls as he kisses you.

The kiss is scorching, his mouth hungry and all-consuming as Jimin licks into your mouth. You moan in surprise against him, tilting backward with the force of his onslaught but his hands are on your waist, already hiking up the fabric of your dress as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth.

Kissing Jimin makes you dizzy. He always kisses you like his survival depends on it, sometimes slow and sometimes fast, but always starving for you and wanting more. He makes little sounds of desperation between the kisses, catching his breath in pitchy tones that drive you absolutely wild.

Jimin’s hands feel like heaven when they grip the soft flesh of your inner thigh, massaging and pulling you close to him as he peppers your jaw and throat with kisses. Each one leaves a wet trail fresh on your skin, more tongue and teeth now that you’ve ignited the want in him.

It’s hard not to let him rip the dress you have on, made of dark blue silk with cape shoulders and silver broaches at the shoulders. When you convinced him to gently take it off, his movements grow softer, more reverent than greedy.

“In,” you laugh between the wet smack of your mouths. “You need to relax.”

“I’m wide fucking awake now.”

“Be wide awake in the bath. Let me take care of you.”

It wins him over. Jimin doesn’t take his eyes off you as he bends down and pulls his briefs off. From your peripheral, you can see his cock spring against his stomach, dark tip swollen and begging for attention with pearls of precum.

You’re torn between wanting to drop your eyes to his cock as he stands and watches you peel your slip off, nipples hardening in the cool air under his heated gaze, but you keep your eyes on his. You could lose yourself in those deep, green pools.

“What?” Jimin asks, hint of a laugh in his voice. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?”

“You have moon eyes.”

You flush, feeling warm beyond the heat of lust. “I just love you.”

Jimin gets a look on his face for a moment, one you don’t understand. For a split second you feel insecure about the admission, standing naked in front of him and telling him that. But the next, the anxiety is gone as he scoops you from the floor, making you squeal as he steps into the warm water and sits down in it carefully.

Water laps over the side, the smell of lavender and orange filling your senses as you breath in. Jimin flicks his finger toward the faucet and the water stops – a trick you have yet to manage – and leans back against the rose wall of the tub, pulling you with him.

Your knees scrape lightly against the rough bottom but you don’t care, coming alive under Jimin’s touch as he settles you over his waist. You can feel his heavy cock brushing your stomach as you straddle him, shotting a thrill through you.

For now, he seems intent on swallowing you whole again, bringing wet hands to tangle in your hair and yank your mouth flush against his.

The mixture of warm water, Jimin’s touch and the gentle brush of his tongue makes your brain fuzzy. You float as you kiss him, your fingers knotting in the hair at the back of his neck, holding him close.

Slowly, you lower yourself a little more, grinding on his cock. You both whine in between spit-slicked kisses, a shudder going through you as you seek friction on his velvety shaft. You’re dripping for him, making the glide even easier as you roll your lips lazily, smiling against his mouth when he lets out a loud curse.

Jimin’s hands go to your waist, submerging under the water. He doesn’t take control, but his grip is hard, dimpling your skin as he grips onto you, letting you tease both of you. It feels like you’re tingling all over, heat rushing through your veins. His cock head nudges your clit and you let out a wanton sound, letting your forehead fall against his shoulder, slick with water and sweat from the heat of the water.

“Fuck,” Jimin rasps, lips pressed to your ear. His tongues snakes out, licking your lobe playfully. “Fuck please don’t tease me.”

“Oh, am I teasing you?”

“Enaid.”

The name shivers through you, a ripple of love and a million other feelings. You reach a hand down between you, firmly grabbing him in your hand, giving his cock a gentle squeeze as you lightly stroke him.

When Jimin is at your mercy, he sounds so beautiful. He leans is head back, face tilted toward the ceiling, mouth open to let sighs escape through pillowy lips. You watch him, the way his neck has light pink splotches as he grows flushed, thighs twitching underneath you as you pump him.

A grin spreads over your face. Seeing him like this is your favorite. Hair presses against his temples and he squeezes his eyes shut, trying not to lose himself entirely to your hand.

Thankfully, you don’t make him wait longer.

The crown of his cock catches your aching hole and you hiss between your teeth, ring of muscles clenching as you slowly sink down on him. It feels like you can’t breathe, every inch of his thickness stretching you to the max until you’re seated and he’s fully sheathed in your fluttering walls.

It takes quick breaths to adjust, your panting against his neck earning a hum from him as his fingers dig painfully into your hips. “Fuck,” he whispers. “So fucking tight.”

“Feels fucking full.”

“Yeah?” he mouths messily at the side of your jaw, voice a low whisper as he says, “Fuck yourself on my cock, baby. Make me feel good.”

Your eyes nearly roll back in your head at the request. Leaning away from him, you put your hands on his shoulders for balance, slowly rolling your hips into a languid rhythm. You can barely breathe at the feel of him inside of you, so fucking deep that you can think of nothing but Jimin.

There’s no rush. Jimin lets you find a pace you like, picking up speed when you feel comfortable enough. It feels divine, the way your walls hug his length, the way his tip hits deep inside of you. You laugh a bit, head dropping back as you sink down on him again.

“Hmmm?”

You moan his name as you take a moment to gather enough thoughts to answer his question, most coherency scattered to the wind. “Feels like you’re in my stomach,” it comes out whiny and pitchy. “It feels really fucking good.”

“Keep going, baby. You look so fucking beautiful like this.”

Jimin leans forward, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking generously. You give a high-pitched squeal, the stimulation adding as you grind yourself on him, clit rubbing against his pelvis. You’re dizzy and overheated, Jimin focused on flicking his tongue devilishly around your pert bud, your eyes rolling back in your head.

Fucking Jimin always feels different. Even at this lazy pace, you feel like you’re going to fucking lose your mind. An orgasm gathers deep in your stomach, a swollen raincloud looming in the distance. You move a little harder on him now, water splashing over the side of the tub as you increase the size of your movements.

“Fingers,” you beg him as he lavishes your tits. He pulls his mouth away with a lewd pop, looking up at you with swollen lips and glassy eyes. “Please.”

He understands. Jimin’s mouth meets yours, a messy exchange of moans and spit. It’s sloppy but it’s good, especially as his hand slides down your abdomen, fingers finding your clit. You gasp into his mouth as he applies gentle pressure, slowly circling your bundle of nerves until you’re shaking on top of him, barely able to keep it together.

Jimin senses your coming apart, increasing his attention on your clit as he begins nipping the column of your throat, sharp teeth pinching your skin, rough tongue laving over it to sooth the sting.

“Shit,” you gasp, shaking above him. “Gonna – fuck.”

“Come on,” Jimin urgers. He plants his feet on the bottom of the tub, helping you as he thrusts gently up into you. “Come all over me.”

Hiding your face in his neck, you feel your orgasm open up on you. You clench hard, muscles clenching and a scream working its way out of you. You shudder in Jimin’s arms as he fucks you gently, letting you ride your orgasm, shaking and crying in his lap.

It sends him over the edge, Jimin curses and crashing his mouth with yours, sucking your tongue into his mouth greedily. You meet him with the same hunger, so fucking overwhelmed with the heat of his desire for you, for the way he makes you feel, for the way he whimpers your name between teeth and tongue.

As you come down, you catch your breath in his arms. He leans his head back, letting you lay against his neck, just trying to level yourself again. It always takes a bit, trying to come back down from the post-orgasm bliss. Jimin responds in kind, eyes closed, hand drifting up and down your spine.

“I love you,” he murmurs, eyes still close. Your eyes flutter open, looking up at him. “And I like when you look at me like that. So keep doing it.”

You laugh and close your eyes, just happy where you are. “Okay.”

Another day closes with you in Jimin’s arm, and your forever grateful for that one ring in your grandmother’s attic.

Previous Chapter

[auroraburst-1721]

gonna post and share the info of the tribes i just posted >:]c

edit: added the other three :]

🔥Skywing🔥

Characteristics & Traits

Largest wing-to-body ratio in Pyrrhia

Feathered wings

Have most characteristics/traits of birds of prey (i.e, beaks, scaled talons, etc.)

Very thick hide underneath feathers/downy coat

Whip-thin tails

Thin, muscular build

Large barrel chests to hold their lungs, which are bigger than most due to the high altitude where they most commonly live

Short/medium length, curled horns (can be curved in any direction)

Come in a variety of warm colors

Eyes are mostly yellow, gold, orange or red

Markings come in a variety of shapes and sizes, though most resemble common ones found on a multitude of bird species (blue jay, peregrine falcon, etc.)

Eggs look ordinary, looking like exceptionally large robin eggs, light blue with darker blue speckled along the shell

Gender Dimorphism

Males are decidedly more colorful in the markings department, like in some species of bird, the males are more brightly colored to attract a mate

The ends of their feathers are able to be a multitude of different colors, mostly ones that compliment their warmer hues and make them stand out more

Female also are able to have bright colors, but they aren't as vibrant as males

When a dragon decides they want to be a different gender or no specific one at all, their body changes along with their mindset (ex, male > female; colors get more diluted and shrink in size slightly. female > male; grows in size and colored ends get more vibrant. their voices also change pitch. non-binary are mostly between female and male traits, they have their own characteristics that are their own category) 

Mutations

If the egg with two chicks survives, it's almost always gonna have one fire-scale chick and one flameless chick (rare occurrence of having normal chicks)

Rare possibility of an egg having two chicks inside (if more than two, the egg dulls and hardens. same thing happens if any eggs are duds)

Fire-scales are always gonna be brighter hues of the Skywing colors

Flameless, on the other hand, will be duller and more pale

Both will have a chance of having cooler colored eyes or even feathers

The two chicks, if being raised together, will have a stronger bond than others, being twins

Some dragons have been known to be born having some patches of scales or little differences, though they’ll be ridiculed and/or bullied for it anyways

Fire-scales can't control their temperature, resulting in burn wounds

Thankfully, an Unknown Animus dragon had gifted an enchanted chest that provides a selection of specialized, enchanted jewelry to be given to the fire-scale in order for their fire to not hurt others. it cannot be touched by ones that have malicious intentions. if that happens, the dragon that tries will be permanently burned around their necks, forming runes stating their attempted thievery, shaming them for life

Wings vary in size and design (ex. owl, ravel, falcon, robin, pelican, etc.) 

Royal Lineage

Royal Skywings are commonly seen to have gold markings, reflecting like actual gold

Markings are mainly seen on their wings & tail feathers

Their beaks are much more curved, unlike other Skywings, which have smaller ones

Bigger in size and height compared to others

Traditions

They've soon gotten rid of the Fighting Stadium, repurposing it to a fledgling area, volunteers helping young dragons to use their wings for the first time

They have a flying tournament every year and just have a lot of different games and events for the whole tribe (helps w/ moral & bonding family/friends closer together) 

Temperament

Commonly short-tempered

Have a 'higher than thou' complex

Very prideful and vain (mostly)

Most of them take offense very easily

Very competitive towards each other and others

Courting

Hunts down valuables/gifts for potential mate (shiny pebbles/rocks, animal pelts/scales, rare gemstones etc)

If gift is accepted, both will fly to a private spot to sing to eachother, melodious croons and chirps

Shows off crest and tail feathers to display colorful ends/markings in hopes of further impressing potential mate with soft bugles

After acceptance, they will proceed to do a mating flight/dance, risky moves, fire and interlocked talons. Trust fall similar to birds of prey

Both venture to find a place to call home, one gathering materials for a nest while the other scouts the area, making sure it is high enough and safe for raising young

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

🐝Hivewing🐝

Characteristics & Traits

Hard exo-skeleton over their bodies, smooth and shiny

Very sharp spines, scales and other extremities

Stingers on the end of their tails, sometimes on the inside of their wrists and fangs (paralysis)

Dark markings akin to bees/wasps

Always a hue of yellow, orange and red paired with dark brown/black markings

Insect wings (comes in a variety of shapes)

Sharp, curved horns with thorn-like protrusions littering it (always a dark color)

Eggs are laid in combs, like bees/wasps, covered in a sticky amber-like saliva that hardens over a few minutes

Gender Dimorphism

Males are slightly broader

Females have longer, skinnier tail

Females have a larger tail (not unlike queen bees and other insects)

Mutations

Hivewing chicks are hatched with almost no dark markings, they develop when they hit a certain age

Chicks’ wings are delicate and fragile, needing gentle, tender care 24/7 until they’re strong enough to be left alone

Sometimes Hivewings can hatch as Albino and/or Melanistic

Melanistics are generally a bit more common than albinos

Albinos don’t ever have dark markings

Some Melanistic chicks are able to have lighter colored markings, basically switching where the colors are normally

Chicks develop their stingers when their markings start to darken and/or their wings are strong enough to hold them up in the air

Royal Lineage

Royals have a bigger tail and stinger than normal female Hivewings

Fangs stick out from their upper jaw, making them look a lot fiercer

Wings are larger and have a specific ‘royal’ pattern

Queens are able to produce honey that is specially made to give to any Hivewing chick, either to turn them into a Royal or give them strength if weak and/or a runt

Traditions

Have a room where eggs were to be held and looked after by the Queen (guards were always guarding them to make sure the Queen didn’t mess with her future tribemates)

Specific Hivewings are able to produce honey, allowing them to make sweets and certain products to feed newly hatched chicks

Temperament

Short-tempered

Used to be fierce and aggressive (wasps)

Now they’re more docile unless provoked (bees)

Scholarly like the Nightwings, though not as well known

Courting

Has an instinctive dance every Hivewing knows to test if they're a match, wiggles their tails and shakes their wings to make a buzzing/clicking noise

If they accept each other, they give a sting to their shoulders, making sure that others know they are mates

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

🌿Leafwing🌿

Characteristics & Traits

Wings look like leaves

Fins going down their spine to the base of their tail. has small bulbs to help with sensing changes in the air

Comes in shades of green, yellow/gold and brown (sometimes hues of red and orange)

Has frills like the Rainwings

Since they are somewhat descended from Rainwings, they have fangs that has a weaker poison in them

Unlike other tribes, Leafwings have the ability to absorb the sun’s energy, allowing them to eat infrequently

Eggs look like seeds, 'blooming' at the top when they get close to their hatching date

Gender Dimorphism

Male fins are slightly larger by about 2-3 inches

Male fins and frills are more sharp, while females have curved fins and frills

Females have slightly rounder and smaller horns

Females have longer tails, able to help them anchor to branches and trees easier

Mutations

Rare few chicks are born with the ability of ‘Leafspeak’, giving them control over plant-life

Varies on strength, some are only able to speak/feel plant-life or make them grow faster while others are able to control a large amount around them, rarely ever full trees though

Rare chance of chicks to be born with a completely unusual color (ex, blue, purple, gray, white, black etc.)

Melanistic and Albino is a rare possibility

Royal Lineage

Royals have gold underlying their eyes, looking like eyeliner

They possess two extra pairs of sensors on their heads, giving the impression of a “crown” of sorts

Traditions

They have a similar sun-bathing habit not unlike Rainwings

To protect their young, the dragons that have stronger Leafspeak make plants form a protective and hidden shelter for them to hide and stay safe

When fledglings come of age, they’re tested by an Elder to find out if they have ‘Leafspeak’, being asked to reach out to young saplings or seeds and encourage them to grow/sprout sooner, sense their feelings or ask them to move to a different spot

Temperament

Decidedly more hostile towards other tribes due to the war between Hivewings and Leafwings

Much nicer once others are proven to be trusted in the tribe

Courting

 Makes horn adornments for potential partner/mate

If gift is accepted, they flap and move their frills in sync

After they both accept the other, they go for a flight in the jungle/forest, dodging plants in their way

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

🦋Silkwing🦋

Characteristics & Traits

Butterfly shaped wings with a multitude of patterns and colors (no shades, ex: black, gray, white)

Short nub horns (colored to match talons/claws)

They have scales, though they don’t make up most of their body

Silkwings aren’t born with fully developed wings, they have to molt/cocoon at a certain age like caterpillars turning into butterflies and moths

Very soft fur and antenna, freshly hatched have soft downy covering them completely until they come of age to get their wings and scales

Very vibrantly colored, commonly having more than one or two colors and having a variety of patterns and markings covering their form (mostly genetic)

Eggs are small and white, sticking to each other

Gender Dimorphism

Females are slightly bigger and have softer, silkier fur

Males have more colors on their wings to get more attention from potential partners

Females are fluffier and have a bit more muscle

Mutations

Fire-silk: genetic passed down from the sire, making their silk glands hotter and able to burn like fire

Fire-silks are sought after due to the Hivewings using them to fuel their lights and special silk fabrics

Very rare to have an Albino or Melanistic chick hatch

Fire-silks have a distinct pattern hidden in their wings once they develop them, always in the shape of flames or sparks

Albinos are sensitive to light, have worse eyesight, causing them to wear goggles to protect their eyes from further damage

Melanistic Silkwings don’t have vibrant colors, coming in much darker hues

Albino Silkwing silk-glands produce a much finer, delicate silk, making it very hard to harvest without damaging it

Melanistic Silkwing silk-glands produce a stronger, thicker silk, very useful for weaving armor pieces together (almost as strong as steel)

Royal Lineage

Royal descendants of the past Queens have been killed to stop any future rebellion towards the Hivewings… though some lucky few have slipped behind the scenes…

Royals’ wings are more reflective, having a distinct pattern of a darker color spotting along the edges of their wings like monarch butterflies

They have a small stinger in their tails hidden underneath the soft fur

Fur has shiny, reflective strands, able to be seen when light hits them at an angle

Horns are etched with faint streaks of silver/gold

Traditions

Silkwings cocoon their eggs in a special, sticky and strong silk, hanging them on the walls of their homes to protect them (if dragons try to break the cocoon, they’re greeted with a sticky mess of seemingly melted silk covering their talons. Very difficult to get off without the help of a Silkwing)

They’ve forgotten their more important traditions due to their tribe forcefully being merged with the Hivewings...  

Temperament

Docile

Friendly

Very skittish

Non-confrontational (other than a select few)

Courting

 Weaves accessories from own silk, uses dyes to make them more eye-catching, adding personal traits relating to potential partner

when/if gift is accepted, they rub their wings together to make a soft humming noise, nudging the other’s snout with a soft chirp

Finishes off with pressing their silk glands together, allowing silk to intertwine

[marblecarved]

your muse’s aesthetics.

bold what applies to your muse and italicize what sometimes applies to them. please repost, don’t reblog !

colour: red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green. magenta. pastels. bubblegum pink. blood red. ivory.

elements: fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. thunder. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. clouds. light. dark. shadow.

body: claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. ears. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. slender. trained. piercings. tattoos. strong. shape shifting. svelte. long hair. short hair. dark circles. big. small. prosthetic. experimented. cyborg. halos. horns. wolfish.

weaponry: fists. sword. dagger. spear. scythe. bow and arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. power loader. flamethrower. metal rod. shotguns. needles.

material: bronze. gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. copper. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. yarn. slime. ivory.

nature: grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. holly. lavender. lilies. petals. thorns. sunflowers. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. snow. ice. roots. flowers. ocean. river. lake. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. swamp. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. stars. clouds. mountains. fungi. cliffs. sunlight.

animals: lions. wolves. black panther. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. roaches. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantis. crows. ravens. misc. lizards. frogs. bears. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dinosaurs. dragons. felines. foxes. centaurs.

foods and drinks: sugar. salt. water. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. vanilla. cookies.

hobbies: music. art. piercing. watercolours. gardening. knitting. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. fencing. riding. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self - defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. poetry. philosophy. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. cello. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. synthesizers. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. tree climbing. running. vivisection.

style: lingerie. armor. cape. dress. robes. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. legging. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendants. hat. goggles. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. pauldrons. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. pantyhose. stockings. thigh highs. eye patch. collar.

misc. balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. realism. loneliness. anger. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. lovers. loyalty. smoking. alcohol. drugs. kindness. love. hugs.

tagging: you ! if you see this on your dash and you would like to do it for your muse, feel free to steal this !

[lokihzra]

so i’ve kinda been working with loki (barely at all, i’ve never really made an offering or altar, i have dedicated jewelry and stuff to him) but i’ve noticed signs from him recently. dreaming about foxes, seeing flies and a spider and today i went to do something and prayed he wouldnt try and use a spider to scare me because i know he likes to fuck around. He didn’t scare me with a spider but instead an owl (owls are bad luck in my culture and i do not like them at all) I was having a cigarette and heard an owl hooting, asked if it was him and asked for a sign and then i heard a squirell talking and it sounded like it was laughing at me and i instantly knew it was him.

he was with me for a few minutes, i felt comfortable and calm as soon as i came inside, also felt like someone was touching me but then it stopped and suddenly my chest got tight and i felt anxiety rising up. I asked for confirmation that it was Loki still here, because i didn’t feel it was and i read that other trickster gods like to pretend to be Loki.

I asked them to show me angel numbers, they showed me 5555, asked them to show me a redhead on TV and they showed me three different redheads. I still felt off tho. So i grabbed a necklace prayed for it to be blessed and used it to ask specific questions.

do you have 4 children with sigyn, they answered yes and my stomach dropped. asked if he helped protect asgard by building them a barrier and he said no. I knew right then they werent loki so i asked them to leave and my pendulum stopped moving, i kept asking and they just kept telling me to rephrase until finally they gave up when i asked if it really is loki, it just barely swung towards no.

n e ways, i feel the deity is still here (unless it’s just my anxiety) and was wondering how i get a deity to leave me alone and or identify who this deity was

[godkilller]

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁    𝙰𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂 :

COLOR.       ——     red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, pink, black, white, teal, silver, gold, grey, lilac, metallic, matte, royal blue, strawberry red, charcoal grey, forest green, apple red, navy blue, crimson, cream, mint green, magenta, pastels, bubblegum pink, blood red, ivory.

ELEMENTAL.      ——        fire. ice. water. air. earth.  rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. thunder. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. clouds. light. dark. shadow.

BODY.       ——       claws. long fingers. fangs. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. ears. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. slender. trained. piercings. tattoos. strong. shape-shifting. svelte. long hair. short hair. dark circles. big. small. prosthetic. experimented. cyborg. halos. horns. wolfish.

WEAPONRY.        ——       fists. sword. dagger. spear. scythe. bow & arrow. hammer. shield. poison. venom. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katana. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. power loader. flamethrower. metal rod. shotguns. needles.

MATERIAL.        ——        gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. copper. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. yarn. slime. ivory.

NATURE.       ——       grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. holly. lavender. lilies. petals. thorns. sunflowers. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. snow. ice. roots. flowers. ocean. river. lake. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. swamp. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. stars. clouds. mountains. fungi. cliffs. sunlight.

ANIMALS.       ——       lions. wolves. black panther. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. roaches. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantis. crows. ravens. misc. lizards. frogs. bears. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dinosaurs. dragons. felines. foxes. pigeons. centaurs.

FOOD & DRINK.      ——      sugar. salt. water. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. pomegranate. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. vanilla. cookies.

HOBBIES.       ——        music. art. piercing. watercolours. gardening. knitting. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. fencing. riding. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self - defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. poetry. philosophy. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. fiddle . cello. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. synthesizers. harp. woodwinds. brass. trumpet. flute. drums. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. tree climbing. running. vivisection.

STYLE.       ——       lingerie. armor. cape. dress. robes. suit. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. legging. trousers. jeans. skirt. shorts. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendants. hat. goggles. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. neck tie. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. pauldrons. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. pantyhose. stockings. thigh highs. eye patch. collar. no makeup.

MISC.       ——        balloons. bubbles. cityscape. landscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. ripe. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirror. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. realism. loneliness. anger. laughter. screams. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. lovers. loyalty. smoking. alcohol. stories. drugs. kindness. love.

tagged by: i stole it tagging: @dokuhai, @keikakudori, @owabisuru, @madestars, and you!