#swoop of hair at his ear my beloved

[f1-stuff]

São Paulo GP '23 // P8 -> P7 in Quali

"We got unlucky there with the weather. We were one of the last cars to leave the pits. With the cold tyres and the temperatures dropping...we missed the chance to do a good lap..."

[twentycuben]

right side of my neck / 너의 광산

synopsis. just riki letting you baby him and tease you since your his beloved girlfriend. !warnings tooth rotting fluff ? ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

ps. I love u. very short btw !

"pretty boy, can you pass me that please?" you called out to your unaware boyfriend sitting across you, when he heard your words his heart skipped a beat and almost choked on his water. —you noticed how flustered he was yet said nothing, only a wide grin on your voice. "what—? what did you say, babe?" he blinked, waiting for you to repeat your soft words that melted like butter in his ears.

"can you pass me that please?"

"no—no. the other thing."

"hm? uh. pretty boy?"

riki didn’t except you to actually repeat those words but it was devastating on how badly it took a toll on him. he wanted to make sure you thought of him was tough and mature, but you calling him pretty boy.. he couldn’t process properly. "don’t call me that."

"why not? your blushing." you smiled softly again, riki realized and looked down to his feet, before quickly grabbing the bottled water right next to him, giving it to you without looking in your eyes. "thank you, babe. I love you"

"I… I—I love you too." he ruffled his hair, trying to control his stutter but he couldn’t help it.

you couldn’t help but chuckle at your boyfriend ruining his hair, he would always stutter saying ‘I love you back’. "I just wanted to say "i love you" for the first time without stuttering, but that failed miserably.." he sighed in embarrassment, but you were so whipped.

you hurriedly wrapped your arms around the boy, he held you so softly and with him being much much more taller than you, it was extremely comfortable to be in riki’s arms.

his left hand wrapping around your waist, eyes not leaving yours. making sure you know how much affection he has for you, riki was really tired of you being the one flustering him.

he delicately caressed your face, you were blushing like a rose and he was just adoring you. holding your face with his free hand, before giving you a kiss on the lips.

riki continued to kiss you gently until pulling away to look at you, "your lips are really warm." you said, missing the feeling of your boyfriends lips.

riki didn’t say anything but just staring at you, how were you so pretty? he just wanted to swoop you off your feet and admire you. "I just.. just can’t stop staring at you." he admits, "you’re so so pretty and I love you." he pouted, he wanted you to baby him.

your hand landed on his mandu cheek, poking it with heart eyes. "angel.. stop.." he chuckled, gently removing your finger from his cheek. he finally swoops you off your feet, bridal style.

"I’ve cornered you pretty girl! I’ll make sure you stop teasing me!

twentycuben

I was watching high school musical while writing this btw.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

HIIII!!!!‼️‼️‼️‼️🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

I haven’t been on lately, I have some other questions too but genuinely I just want to get this out of the way because I genuinely want him so bad😭😭

So, it was my birthday yesterday and I’m just gonna be honest man, it was not good. I’m twenty now but it just feels weird?? Like I don’t know what’s happening?? I barely even celebrated, I wasn’t given the chance.

So how would Dominic be on his beloved’s birthday?? Would he do anything special?? Throw them a party with gifts?? Just genuinely anything his strange ass would do??

It can be taken as SFW, NSFW, or both!! It doesn’t matter to me🫶🫶

I hope you are doing good and all is well!! :]]

Oh also, would you ever consider writing anything for Hotch from criminal minds?? I’ve had the most INSANE crush on that man for years now, i’m just genuinely curious.

-🦝

Hello there, my Sweet 🦝 Anon ! Happy (late) birthday <3 ! I understand how difficult life can feel when you're thrown from one life stage into another, but I would like you to know this: everyone develops at their own pace. Everybody takes different amounts of time to acclimatise to new situations, so don't feel the need to rush into adulthood and its many daunting expectations ^^.

As for your birthday celebrations, I do hope you'll get the chance to fully indulge in them on your next birthday. But don't feel like you need to wait until then, my Sweet ! Celebrate whenever you want to because every day is a blessing; you don't need an excuse to pull out the festivities to mark the passing of another year, my Dear <3 !

Also, yes, I absolutely WOULD consider writing for Hotch - I have a monster crush on him, too ^^

As for Dominic:

TW: Manipulation, Vague Implication of Suggestive Material, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except 'You'.

♡ You just KNOW Dominic's going to use this special occasion to: a.) make it all about him (and his crippling saviour complex), and b.) spoil you silly.

♡ He organises a surprise party for you. Has a failsafe in case you hate it - to pin the whole affair on Marilyn, accrediting her for this wonderful party - despite inviting an optimal number of guests to keep you within the zone of relative comfort; not too many to lose yourself in, but enough where you can retreat with ease.

♡ At the first sign of discomfort, he's absolutely going to swoop in like the self-perceived hero he is and take you somewhere quiet, somewhere where you can open up to him, thank him for rescuing you from the stuffy atmosphere of the party, etc.

♡ Just stroke his ego, basically.

♡ He knows he needs to buy something inconspicuous enough that you, your family and Marilyn won't feel uncomfortable with him giving such a luxe gift. but it also needs to be extravagant and personal enough that you'll appreciate it.

♡ He'll settle on something the two of you discussed in private - something borderline utilitarian so it doesn't end up a decorative paperweight.

♡ An article of clothing, an ornate lighter, a novel so rare its publication is believed to be a myth; those sorts of things. Items that carry weight - both physical and emotional. But things you could never afford yourself.

♡ Objects that will indebt you to Dominic. Even if your birthday is supposed to be one of the few times of the year where you can receive gifts without feeling the need to repay those who give you them.

♡ Dominic can't extinguish the prickle of his ego swelling as you approach him after everyone's splintered off into their groups, thanking him profusely for your gift before asking him with a soft smile when his birthday is, what he'd like, and...how did he know it was your birthday, anyway?

♡ He smiles.

♡ "I know everything that happens in this neighbourhood," he tells you. A lock of hair slips before your eyes. He tucks it behind your ear. Can't have your saintly view of him obscured now, can he?

♡ "It'd hardly do if I didn't know when my favourite neighbour's birthday was, would it?"

♡ You figured he could've gotten that information from absolutely anyone.

♡ And he'll let you keep believing that fantasy for as long as he needs. Especially since seeing you with your beloved birthday gift fills him with a makeshift warmth that he believes is love.

♡ Dominic has never truly cared for birthdays - both his own and those of others - but for the first time in his life, he can't wait to see what you get for him. What little surprise or favour he can pull from you when it's just the two of you alone.

♡ And trust, he'll do everything in his power to make sure you're more than willing to bend over backwards for his thanks by his next birthday.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

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[amethyst-crystalfly]

hi! Diluc reacting to accidentally hurting s/o while training w/ them? He feels rlly guilty and promises to help u get better because he thinks it’s his fault.

thanks you!

A/N: Ooooohhhh hello there! I really like this prompt! Thank you for the ask! This is my first time doing a request and I am so excited! Let’s see what we can cook up 🧪 welcome to my blog and I hope you have a pleasant stay! 🤍🎀

Warnings: mentions of blood, like a LOT of it, mentions of injury.

Character: Diluc

Kiss it Better

The hours right after Dawn are your favourite. The air is filled with chirps of birds and the cool Mondstadt breeze brings a certain sense of peace with it. This is also the time you get to train with your beloved partner, the roguishly handsome wine tycoon of Mondstadt, Diluc. The flaming red of his hair matches the early morning sun. You have never felt more alive, as you do now, training against him in a clearing just outside Dawn winery.

He is strong and his movements are steady, his high ponytail doesn’t seem to have a single strand out of place, even though he is drenched in sweat. Your agility never seems to stop amusing him. You could feel droplets of sweat trickling down your back. But oh it feels so good. Neither of you are quitters, the playful competition is infact the best part of it all! You swipe your sword at him and he swoops past effortlessly. His movements are like that of a mountain lion. But you are no less admirable yourself. You dodge his attacks and parry his sword with just as much grace. It’s like you two are locked in a dance . Each matching the other’s movements flawlessly.

Oh but the sun is starting to feel hotter today. As expected in the middle of July. You both had been going at it for a while now. Your breaths were paced out with little pants in between now, but neither of you wanted to give up. Did the sun seem brighter? Was the heat getting higher? Or was it all in your head? You really should have had a better breakfast this morning. Why did your sword suddenly feel heavier? Your ears were buzzing. You tried to shake off the feeling with a quick shake of your head. But oh! You felt Diluc’s sword hit your side, the same moment he realized that you missed the dodge.

The blunt edge of the wooden sword crashed against your ribs sending you flying off your feet. Everything was happening so quickly. You felt your head knocking against something hard sending a sharp jab of pain through your body and then nothing.

Diluc couldn’t believe his eyes, you missed! You didn’t dodge! How is that possible?? You always dodge! He saw the exact moment your eyes started to look out of focus, but it was too late. His sword was in motion and he tried to soften the blow, but it was too late. And then he heard the sickening sound of the sword hitting your body. It was all playing out in agonizingly slow motion for him, yet he couldn’t do anything, as the impact knocked you away. Then your head hit that rock and he felt his heart beating through his chest. He rushed to you instantly and found your blood already drenching the grey rock crimson. No no no this can’t be happening. He used his handkerchief as a makeshift bandage to stop the bleeding. You were loosing so much blood. He swooped you up in his arms and rushed back to the winery.

“Charles!! Adelinde!!” Diluc called out as he neared them, they rushed to your aid. They had never seen their young master in such utter state of panic since…it didn’t matter now. You needed immediate help! One of the maids instantly went to fetch a doctor. Adelinde had tended to multiple wounds of the Dark Night before, but this one, it needed stitches. Blood gushing from your bleeding temple had run all the way down your neck, and mixed with the sweat it was a terrifying image. Your breath seemed shallow and pained. One of the maids, brought a rag and a bucket of water to clean your wound, but Diluc simply thanked her for it and started cleaning your face and your neck with his own hands. Carefully he swiped the wet rag over your face and neck. He was not thinking, right now his priority was making sure you were okay. Barbara burst in through the door, and quickly ushered everyone out so she could begin working on you. Diluc too had to leave, although he was reluctant but he knew that it was necessary.

Once outside the room, it all started sinking in for him. He could still hear your sharp cry of pain as the sword connected with your side. He could just pray that he was able to soften his blow enough to not break a rib. He felt waves of guilt wash over him. It was all his fault, it was him. He never wanted to hurt you. He was so sure you would dodge like you always do, that he didn’t think of holding back. Why didn’t he realize earlier that you were not okay. He was internally cursing himself as he bent over clutching at his hair. Tears started streaming down his face. Tears of frustration at his own failures, tears of guilt, pain and of fear, the fear of losing you. He never wanted things to become this way. Yet here he was. Pathetic.

Barbara opened the door and Diluc shot up to his feet, jostled from his world of inner conflicts. She saw the worry in his eyes and her heart broke for him a little. She always thought of him as somewhat of an elder brother. She tried to calm his fears the best she could, she said that you were going to be okay. The bleeding had stopped and she put in about 6 stitches on your forehead. Your ribs were bruised but no signs of breakage, there was some internal bleeding, but she healed it to the best of her abilities. She showed one of the maids how to change the dressing of your bandage, the stitches will take a little while to heal.

“She needs rest, plenty of it, not even light activities, her wound is pretty deep, thankfully it was not the back of her head” Barbara said. After prescribing some medicines she offered whatever words of comfort she could and took her leave. She could see it in Diluc’s eyes that no words of comfort would sooth him right now, unless they were from your lips.

Diluc gently opened the door to your shared bedroom, and found you laying there still on the bed. The gentle rise and fall of your chest the only indication of your beating heart. The maids had changed you into a one of your soft white cotton night dresses. Barbara gave you some painkillers to help. The dosage was strong enough to lull you into a gentle sleep. Diluc vowed to take it upon himself to tend to you, to repent for his sins.

You woke up the next morning to the sound of pleasant bird chirps, a gentle breeze wafted in through the open window as if softly caressing you with its healing touch. Your peaked from underneath your lashes at the soft morning light washing the room in its pure light. You felt a weight on your hands, and looked to discover Diluc asleep on the bedside clutching your hand. Your head throbbed a little at the movement and your groaned at the sudden pain. This woke Diluc up. He was surprised to see you awake. You tried to sit up, Diluc was instantly there by your side, helping you, he put a pillow against the exquisitely carved headboard to ease your discomfort and propped you against it gently. He silently offered you a glass of water from the bedside which you didn’t realize you needed till you drank it, the delicious cooling effect of the water felt healing to you. You sighed happily with your eyes closed as he carefully took the glass from your hands and placed it back down. You opened your eyes and cracked a sleepy smile at him, “good morning handsome”. Diluc had not said a word till now, you realized why as he instantly broke down after seeing you smile. He kneeled by the bed with his arms around your waist, with his head down. You could feel his body shake with the tears spilling down his pretty face.

“I am sorry I am sorry I never meant to hurt you I love you so much I am sorry” he kept saying as he poured his heart out to you, he revealed all those thoughts that had been tormenting him, all the painful what-ifs that had been holding him hostage, he confided all of that to you.

You let him say it all, as you quietly ran your hands through his hair, offering him comfort. When he finished, you took cupped face in your hands and made him look up to you in your eyes. And you said intently, meaning it with all your heart, “it was not your fault love” you could see the tears brimming in his eyes as you continued. “ I am okay am I not? You controlled your movements the best you could, I know it, if you had not slowed yourself in time, archon knows I wouldn’t get away without a single broken rib, I faltered because of my own fault, but you saved me” you sighed, “to be honest, I should have told you that I wasn’t feeling well, I know you would have understood and taken care of me, just like you did now, but my silly pride got in the way, I didn’t want to give up…if anything I am sorr”—- you couldn’t finish the sentence as Diluc captured your lips in a kiss. You leaned back, tugging at his collar, and he joined you in bed with you. Saying all the things he left unsaid with his kiss, it was not a hot kiss of burning desire, but a gentle kiss of affection, care and love. He cared for you deeply and he promised to never let you go.

🩷🤍🩷🤍🩷🤍🩷🤍🤍🩷🤍🩷🩷🤍🩷🤍

Find more work here ☀️ happy browsing!! ^o^

If you can and want to please consider supporting me on https://ko-fi.com/amethystcrystalfly 🌸 (it’s a cry for help at this point) But If you are also struggling like me I hope you find the support you need and I am grateful for your like and for your existence💕 You matter, don’t forget that. I love you *wishing on my eyelashes for your happiness*

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Seduction

Ah! A new pairing for me! Please enjoy some canon pining!

Prompt: Seduction - Mutual Pining

Pairing: Celebrían x Elrond

Words: 570

Warnings:/

Celebrían pursed her lips pensively.

The face staring back at her in dismay from the beautifully ornamented mirror—a gift bestowed upon her by her host—was not an unpleasant one, and she straightened resolutely.

She distinctly remembered her mother’s indulgently mocking expression whenever their conversations inevitably turned to Elrond; it was not uncommon for Lady Galadriel, a hereditary meddler, to take an undue interest in things that were theoretically beyond her purview.

“He seemed quite taken with you,” the beloved and dreaded wife of Celeborn had smiled, making her only daughter grimace in dismay. “I wonder why he didn’t…”

“Come to you and whine into your ear?” Celebrían had cut in ungraciously. “I’m sure you’d have enjoyed that.”

“Ah, pugnacious,” her mother had teased. “You get that from me, no doubt. Well, daughter mine, if those unconfessed affections I thought I’d sensed are indeed reciprocated, I’d urge you to make the first step. Honourable men can be…hesitant when it comes to these things.”

At that time, Celebrían had been patently unwilling to hand her mother so easy a win and had stalked away as proudly as possible.

Now, though, these words of wisdom echoed through her mind as clearly as at the moment they’d been spoken.

“Very well,” she said to her reflection. “I shall do what needs to be done.”

Pinching her cheeks—pale with anticipation—and adjusting her hair, she nodded at the mirror one last time and flew down the stairs to corner Lord Elrond as soon as he left the long, mind-numbing meeting he was presently attending.

No doubt, the endless, monotone droning of the other participants would, by now, have worn down his formidable defences, and she could swoop in when he was at his most intellectually vulnerable.

She would usually not have thought of herself as an overly vain creature, but she was purposefully wearing her most revealing dress and had cavalierly dispensed with the bejewelled hairnet she should have worn if she’d wanted to uphold the persona of the sweet-natured, patient maiden.

Hastening down a noisy hallway, Celebrían made it to the door of the emptying chamber just as Elrond stepped out, absorbed in a conversation with her mother.

“Mother,” she greeted cuttingly. “I’d like to have a word with Lord Elrond, if you’d excuse us.”

As soon as the heavy door was closed carefully behind them, Celebrían mustered up her courage and promptly crowded the visibly perplexed object of her unspoken desire against a massive table, littered with papers and maps.

“Milord,” she purred. “We’ve been acquainted for quite a long while, and I’ve been under the impression, at least, that you don’t find me absolutely abhorrent.”

She smiled coyly; maybe, that coquettish euphemism had been a little too much, but she was desperate at this point and refused to leave this room without having achieved anything.

“Milady,” Elrond exclaimed, shocked. “Surely, you must have noticed how ardently I admire you.” He fell silent, his eyes wide with apprehension. “Forgive my word choice—I was not prepared to—”

Looking at his crestfallen, flushed face, Celebrían suddenly felt a twinge of guilt for having seduced him into declaring himself before he was ready and comfortable to do so.

“That is well,” she whispered kindly, pressing a demure kiss onto his burning cheek. “For I have been waiting too long to hear you say these words. We share the same yearning then!”

-> Masterlist

@tolkienpinupcalendar Here's another one from me <3

@fellowshipofthefics Here's some LOTR-adjacent fic from me!

[rosella-writes]

and here's the thing, I was looking at the prompt list and I was like but what if. what if I also sent one for Loghain & Tabris uwu

❛ you’re not getting rid of me that easily.❜

>:] thank you beloved. For @dadrunkwriting

Rating: T Words: 617

~~~

The Warden was naught but a girl, but she carried a familiar sense of indignant rage — it did not help matters that she still wore her hair in two braids, pinned at the nape of her neck, as the ladies in Denerim did. The rage — and the blonde wisps of hair coming free of her plaits — was as familiar to Loghain as the back of his own hand. 

But he blinked, and the remembrance of his own daughter was gone. 

Rosalie Tabris still paced before the fire. She had not removed the armour she’d met Riordan in, and it was stained with an echo of blood in its seams from her encounter with Loghain’s second in command. Loghain doubted that the rusty red would ever come out. 

“You heard the man,” Loghain grumbled. He turned his gaze towards the hilt of his sword, and picked at the leather wrapping it until it swung from his hip. “He plans to take the fall, but if he fails —”

“He won’t fail,” Rosalie snapped. 

“If he fails,” Loghain repeated, and he heard the same tone in his voice as he’d used in conference with Cailan, “we must be prepared. It must be one of us. Better that I make the final blow, if I am to be any further use to Ferelden.”

The fire crackled on the grate. Rosalie’s pacing resumed, and her boots clicked on the stones. “I could leave you at the gate. Guard my retreat, prevent them from following and cutting us off. That’s how your mind works, right? You’ve got it full of military strategies and —”

“No,” Loghain sighed. 

Rosalie halted in her tracks and glared at him through lividly gold elfin eyes that reflected the fire near her feet. “You’ll do as I say.”

He felt a sad smile crease his craggy face. “You will not be rid of me so easily.”

Rosalie’s jaw tightened. Her ears flicked back, one at a time, with the force of her anger.

“We will remain at one another’s backs,” he insisted. “I am surprised at you. You should know better than to give me a chance to repeat the same tactic I used at Ostagar.”

Her expression did not change, but the droop of her ears still betrayed her. “I had hoped,” she finally grumbled, “that you would, in fact, quit this particular field. It would be utter folly to kill off all Fereldan Wardens in one fell swoop.”

Loghain shook his head tiredly — his braids brushed his shoulders with the motion. He closed the distance between himself and the Warden with a few loping strides, then took up her hand with awkward hesitance. She turned that hand into a fist between his palms, but she did not jerk it away. 

“Against all odds,” he muttered, “I have grown fond of you. You are a better friend than I ever thought to find, and all despite the harm I have done to you and your family. Let me give you this.”

Rosalie’s glare was scorching, but her eyes were no longer hard mirrors of flame. They instead were oddly glossy and wet as they stared up at him from beneath furrowed brows. He gave her hand a quick shake of emphasis as he went on. 

“Think of your bard. Think of the flowers you have yet to give her. Think of the songs she has yet to sing to you. I would not deprive you of them, not when I have so little life of my own worth living.”

Rosalie finally lowered her gaze and clenched her eyes shut — two tracks of tears fell down her cheeks, cutting through the dust upon them like rivulets of melting snow.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

hello there! i would like to request a matchup! ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

fandom: obey me!

gender: female

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: pansexual

zodiac sign: gemini

appearance: i'm around 5'10/around 175 cm, my hair is currently black (i dye it a lot), i have green eyes and round face; people usually think i'm younger than i actually am. i have 6 ear piercings and a sun tattoo which i love sm, i like to experiment with different makeup styles

personality: i'm an introvert, not too social. shy but only at first. either 100% or 0% energy, nothing in between. quite sarcastic, i can get emotional really fast though. i'm loyal and honest, i tend to get stressed very easily. i often find it hard to go out of my comfort zone

likes: animals (i have two cats and a dog!), books/mangas, baking, music, rain

dislikes: heights, darkness, crowds, snakes

extra fun fact: i collect plushies~

that's all, i hope it's okay!<3

MatchUps~

(My matchups are still closed, but I am doing this for a kind friend doing a match-up for me! I will post as soon as I am mentally ready to reopen my Match Ups again! Thank you all!)

Obey Me!

Satan

Headcanons~~

Satan enjoys your innocent looks the most. He associates your innocence with his beloved cats, who are so cute and innocent.

Satan asks for many reading dates with you and loves it when you two can swap books and discuss what you like and dislike about the stories. He even has taken hand a time or two at Manga. Maybe you can convince him to read more.

Satan is also an all-or-nothing person, especially when it comes to his Sin. He only reserves 100% of his energy for you once you start dating. He will be his usual self-present but has yet to fully invest any other time, primarily if it involves Lucifer's plans.

Satan will assist you in any task out of your comfort zone for the price of a few private cuddles. He will ensure you are content and happy before he worries about himself. Please don't tell his brothers that.

Let him pick out your jewelry. He thinks it is a personal way for him to show ownership over you if he gets to choose all the jewelry adorning you.

He loves your animals. Even though he isn't much of a dog person, he will make an exception for you. Your cats, though, are treated like gods in his presence.

Satan enjoys a rainy day spent sitting indoors with you, playing soft ambient music, and reading a new book together.

He will steal your cat plushies only to make you a warm nook in his room for you to curl up in.

Blurb~~

It was a cool day in hell. Rain softly pittered on the roof of the place you call home. With it being a weekend, the House of Lamentation was packed, especially since Lord Diavolo and Barbatos came over accompanied by Simeon, Luke, and Solomon. The house was lively as everyone played games, ate food, and, of course, argued over nothing at all. For you, however, this was indeed hell.

Now you loved the brothers, the angels, the lord, and even Solomon. What you hated is how this giant house suddenly felt too small with its many people. You were not enjoying being crowded by everyone, so slowly, you went to the back of the room for some fresh air. Little did you know your demon was overseeing you to ensure you were alright. Once safely away from the others enough to finally breathe, Satan swooped in and took your hand. He guided you to the library where you two could hide; lucky for you two, Mammon had just said something foolish, so all eyes were on him.

Once safely nestled in the library, Satan was wrapping you up in a blanket, turning on the record player, and pulling out the new book you had got him. Gently, he rested you against his chest, allowing you to get comfortable. After a few protests and worries that the others will notice, he calmed you and began to read to you. Hours had to have passed when the brothers finally realized their numbers had dwindled, and they searched for you. Imagine the horror on Mammon's face when he finds you and Satan cuddling, fast asleep.

[polutrope]

Hi! If you're still taking the Silm phrase prompts, Finrod + shadows of things that were yet to be? — @emyn-arnens

Thank you for the prompt! This is quite a bit different from my usual. I experimented with writing a draft by hand, and this is what came out.

~1400 words of child Finrod, recounting the experience of one of his first forebodings. On AO3.

I was born in Tirion, in my father’s wing of the Palace, but I was still a babe when Mother first brought me to Alqualondë.

When I told Father this story, he asked, “How do you remember that?” But I remember everything, like Grandfather Olwë who they say has the longest and clearest memory of all the Eldar, at least of those who made the Journey to Aman (he says his brother Elwë remembered more). As the Noldor, my father’s people, have the greatest skill in craft and lore, the Teleri, my mother’s people, have the greatest skill with memory. For the Teleri call themselves Lindar, Singers, not only because they have the most beautiful voices, but because they perceive the world and their lives within it as a Song. Each emotion a note, each experience a chord, each event a whole movement. Songs, at their root, are stories. And when you make stories of your life, you never forget. 

Sometimes, we even remember things that have not yet come to pass. This is called foreknowledge or foretelling. It is not unusual for the Eldar, Father says, but I am very young to have such powers (as he calls them). He didn’t say as much, but because I can hear minds even when they do not speak with voices, I know that he thinks this particular foretelling should not be possible in the Blessed Realm. Perhaps he is right that this memory is not a foretelling at all but thoughts and images my mind put together in a story to help me make sense of them. But Queen Míriel died in Aman, so perhaps what I saw on that first visit to Alqualondë could happen also.

Mother had me swaddled to her chest in a sling, and her voice purred in my ears as she held up one arm to point: “See, Ingo? There is the great mansion your grandfathers built together. Olwë envisioned its rounded shapes and its roof like cresting waves, and Finwë made it strong using the language of numbers and patterns.” The wind was whipping my soft hair around my face and she stroked it back. “But come, let me show you the most beloved creation of our people.” I felt the rhythm of her footfalls as she walked us down the pier. “For in the building of ships we received no aid from the Noldor. Ossë taught us this craft before we came to these shores.” She took her arms away from me for a moment, to help her up the ladder onto the royal swanship.

My head fell back and I saw the tall mast reaching up, up, up into the sky streaked with pink and gold. The sky is never as bright and blue here as it is in Tirion, for the Pelóri stand between Laurelin and the coast. Mother was still speaking to me in her lilting voice, bouncing and cupping my little body with both hands, but her words faded to a murmur of sound without meaning. 

“Stop them!” a voice cried, and my sight was obscured as with a grey gauze. “They are manning the ships! Stop!” Something whizzed past at the very edge of my field of vision, and I looked down to see what it was. Perhaps a seabird swooping low. I looked up at Mother, but she smiled at me and showed no sign of noticing. 

Again something flew past and I knew it for an arrow. I had only seen anyone use a bow once, when we visited Uncle Nolofinwë soon after I was born. Cousin Findekáno had been in the courtyard practising his shot with a bow made for play. But these arrows flying between the shadowy veil between the present—on my mother’s chest, a bright warm day—and the memory of what would be—dark, dark as the blackness of sleep, and full of shouts—were long and swift and some struck the ships so hard their points drove right through. Someone screamed. I did not see them fall, but I heard the splash that swallowed the scream in the sea. I had never heard anyone scream that way, as if all their voice was loosed at once. It pushed a scream from my lungs, too, and Mother’s lips stopped moving and she held me closer and hid my eyes against her chest. But that was worse, because it hid the bright day so that all I could see now was the dark memory full of shouts and clanging metal and whizzing arrows and bodies falling in the water. 

“Shh, shh,” she said, bouncing up and down to comfort me. I pounded my fists against her chest, pushing so I could see again with my eyes. Then I found her face, and she was smiling and started to sing. Mother’s songs are powerful. She pulled me back from the shadowy place. “Are you hungry?” she asked when my tears had stopped. No, I was not hungry, but I could not tell her because I could not yet shape words with my mouth. “Come, let us go back and find you some fishcakes. Would you like that, my golden star?”

Later, when I could speak with words, I did not tell anyone of that memory. By then I had many other memories layered on top of eachother, both of things that had been and things that would be. Most were joyous, and those ones I made into songs that made others smile and laugh and sometimes cry, but always with happiness. I did try, once, to put the memory from the swanship into a song, but it made my heart tighten and my stomach twist and I did not think it would be fair to share such unpleasant feelings with others. 

Then a few days ago, Turukáno (he is my favourite cousin) came to visit us in Alqualondë. Our mothers took us to the beach, and we built sandcastles and splashed in the waves. While we were playing, Turukáno suddenly went very still and his skin was full of tiny bumps as if he was cold, even though it was an especially warm day and there was no wind. I hugged him to warm him with my body but he did not move for some time. When he came back, and met my eyes, he didn’t say anything. We went in and wrapped up in our towels, and Mother gave us juice and melon and soon he was smiling and laughing again. 

But I was not able to put out of my mind the strange mood that had come over my friend, so when we were tucked in bed for sleep, I asked him what had happened. 

“It is nothing,” he said at first. But Turukáno and I shared everything, so I asked him again. Then he told me what had frozen him with fear: it was the same memory, or very similar, I’d had on the swanship with my mother. 

It was not the first time Turukáno and I shared a memory. We share dreams often, sometimes on purpose, so that we can be together even when he is Tirion and I am in Alqualondë. But we’d never shared this sort of memory. Poor Turukáno had never even had a memory of the future before!  

When Father came in to check that we were asleep and found me holding Turukáno and Turukáno crying, of course he was worried. But I wouldn’t tell him what happened, not then, because Turukáno was so scared already. 

“I promise to tell in the morning,” I told Father. 

So I did, I told him this morning, because I did not want him to worry. I think it would have been better if I had not, because he has been walking about the home all day fretting with the hem of his tunic. I heard him asking Mother if he should tell Anairë, because of Turukáno, and if she thought we should make a journey to Lórien to ask the Vala’s aid in “interpreting memories”. 

But Irmo knows the Theme of Arda, what if we discover that the memory Turukáno and I shared is true? I do not think I could live with that certainty. I know that Turukáno could not. Father will not force me to go, and I won’t. It is safer, I have decided, for some memories not to be put into speech or Song. 

Thanks to @cuarthol for the beta!

[basilone]

'Glide' and 'deep' for our beloved Buck Cleven? Juno xx

The amount of recalibrating I did to keep this away from the gremlin part of the brain that was cryin' out for smut... 🤣I think this one became a lot of fun in its own right, though! It can sort-of be a companion piece to this one, as we take a closer look at Gale during his interrogation and get some scraps of what his bond with my OC Lottie is like. (And apparently, Gale gets a little belligerent when he's in pain. Who knew. 😂)

Glide / deep

His face hurts. He’s pretty sure there’s a tear in his jacket sleeve. His ankle is screaming murder at him until he sits down in a chair that makes the rest of his body hurt with its rigidity. Blood and cotton are waging a war in his mouth.

Spit it up, Gilly. Her voice dances on the periphery of his being, past the sharp cuts and the dull pain that makes him want to curl up into a ball. Don’t hold that in, ain’t good for ya – and if he focuses just enough, he can feel the brush of her thumb on his chin – never swallow a beatin’, Major, just spit it back out. Put it where it belongs.

He sucks in a breath. Spits blood into the glass.

“That is a waste of a good drink,” says his interrogator. Voice too glacial to be disapproving. Voice too controlled to be much of anything meaningful. “Not a man for alcohol, I take it?”

Gale rolls his head back. Looks down his nose at the too-clean desk. Would smile at the small spatters of blood that escaped the glass if he felt his face could still move that way. He can practically feel the glass splinters in his cheek tremble and burrow deeper with each movement.

I need to get that looked at, he thinks, feeling something giddy swoop through his belly at the inanity of the thought. Benny’s going to have kittens about it. Unsanitary.

Out loud, he rattles a breath into the silence. “Buck Cleven,” he says evenly, trying not to wince at the b’s or e’s his mouth is shaping around. “Major.” He pauses. Lets his rank hang in the silence for a moment. “O-three-nine-nine”– he coughs –“seven-eight-two.”

“Buck? You are not Gale Cleven, Major?”

I haven’t been Gale to anyone in a damn long time, asshole. “Buck,” he asserts.

“We need to know you are who our papers say you are, Major.” That same even voice again. Prick. His knuckles itch. “Are you or are you not Gale Cleven?”

Gilly Gale Cleven of the three-five-oh, his mind sing-songs, and he smiles through the pain. “Buck Cleven, Major,” he says again, focusing on the glint of his interrogator’s glasses. Focusing on the slicked-back hair and the self-serving smirk. Lot would be begging to punch him by now – please, Gilly, lemme at him – and his hand nearly curls into a fist in her absence. “O-three-nine-nine-seven-eight-two.”

“I see.”

You can’t see a goddamn thing because that mustachioed knucklehead of a Führer sticks his hand up your ass and makes you parrot his nonsensical bullshit all goddamn day. Gale disguises his snort of laughter as a cough. Remembers Lot’s drawing from about a week ago – sockpuppet Nazis, painstakingly sketched out while tucked against his side in the crush of a too-busy pub – only because the man sitting in front of him now looks like her drawing come to life.

“Something funny, Major Cleven?”

Gale smiles back. You wouldn’t get it.

“I always like a good joke,” the man continues. “You Americans are very funny sometimes. Are you a funny man, Major?”

If he closes his eyes, he can hear Lot’s laughter play into his ears over the persistent radio static he has not quite managed to shake since the crash. He likes that laugh – full, booming, fearless – almost as much as he likes seeing the scrunch of her nose above her mask. Gilly, stop distractin’ me, she’d admonished, reaching over just to slap his arm. We got a ways to go yet, and you ain’t helpin’.

“No, you are not,” concludes his interrogator, who’s clearly never seen Lot’s eyes sparkle with joy over something Gale said. “You are a more serious man. A good pilot, if these tales of you gliding your plane to a landing without engine are true.” His fingers tap a folder that contains far too many papers. Far too many pictures, too. “A studious man with deep thoughts, aren’t you? We appreciate men like you here in Germany, Major.”

Gale summons the blood in his mouth until his gums feel encased by only cotton. Aims. Spits. The desk, once too-clean, spatters red.

“Buck Cleven,” he says, smiling past the pain, feeling the shards of glass dig deeper and deeper into his skin. “Major.” Knows he’ll stay that, even if he won’t fly again. They should promote Lot next, but she’s bound to do something stupid like wind up in the cell next to his. A ways to go, you and me. “O-three-nine-nine”– he laughs –“seven-eight-two.”

“We do not appreciate difficulties, Major.”

You’re gonna hate Lottie when she gets here. “Buck Cleven,” he repeats. I’ll never be Gale in this country. “Major.” And I’ll make damn sure you don’t forget it. “O.” Where are my men. “Three.” Where is Benny, is he okay. “Nine.” How many others survived the crash. “Nine.” All that paperwork and you still don’t know what matters most in a man’s life. “Seven.” Hope Marge will get word back to base that I’m okay once you let me write her a letter. “Eight.” Like an ouroboros, biting its own tail. “Two.”

His one-fingered salute is the loudest thing in this silence.

[madaboutmunson]

Eddie Month WIP

So my ambition for @eddiemonth is to use a brand new AU, and write a fic for each week, incorporating a prompt from each day into it. Can I do it? I hope so. Anyway I've decided to stick with Steddie (my beloved) buuuuut, the AU is going to by late 50's Chicago. I'll add some pics of my version of the guys below, and this is a chunk from my Week 1 fic, around the prompt 'Crush' I hope you like it!

Also massive thanks to @thefreakandthehair and @nostalgicbones for creating this event. I absolutely love Eddie, and am so excited to see what everyone creates for this month! ================================================

Stupid Cupid

Eddie hurriedly bustles his way past them, briskly walking away, and doesn't look back. Not even once, as his pulse thunders in his ears. The city seems to swell and contract as the anxiety starts to weave its way into him, and he might have walked right on by the grocery store if not for the uneven sidewalk.

He manages to get his hands in front of him, preventing his face from meeting the pavement and scrambles to his feet.

“What? Not even a postcard?” A thick Chicago accent rings out. Eddie starts to feel the defensiveness rise in him. He’s going to give this joker a piece of his mind. It's only his first day here, and already, it's going to hell. It's a stupid joke, anyway, which makes no sense at all because he didn't trip. He fell. Couldn’t this moron even see that? He dusts off his new clothes and notices a small tear in the knee. And that might be the final straw. Eddie screws up his face in rage. Fists clenched at his sides, one finger extended, ready to point right at this guy.

“No! Not even-” Eddie begins angrily as he turns to the voice. But all language and oxygen leave him, and all he can do is take one gulp of an inhale like a human goldfish.

Standing in front of Eddie right now is something he can barely comprehend. A miracle has occurred, and it doesn't seem like the rest of the world has noticed because it's carrying on like this isn’t even happening. He can vaguely hear the cars and the shouts of others, but they are all starting to dwindle. It was like someone was turning the volume down on planet Earth, and all he could hear was his own heartbeat and breathing.

Then, almost like a vignette is placed over his vision, blurring and darkening the edges, he can only focus on one thing.

The man of Eddie’s dreams.

Physically, at least.

He is right there.

Like the great animators in the sky plucked him out of his mind and drew him into existence.

Had he not put his hand out in time? Was he, in reality, currently knocked out by the fall, and that's why he can see this guy now?

He’s about the same height as Eddie. His hair is neatly cropped, not shoved away and hidden under a hat like his own. It’s side-parted, with a perfect swoop of brown, neatly combed and styled hair. Save for a few strands that hang over his forehead, rebelling against the pomade. His light brown eyes are shaped with a slight slope downwards, giving them a natural, hooded, adorable sadness, just like Elvis himself. But these are larger, which made them infinitely easier to get lost in. But there isn’t an ounce of sadness in the rest of that face as a cocky open-mouthed smile spreads across it. Tucked in the corner of his lips is a toothpick that rolls, as his tongue is idly toying with from inside his mouth as he looks Eddie up and down. 

Then there are those rose-blushed lips of his. They looked so soft, in direct opposition with the perfectly chiselled jaw they rested above. And all of this with a backdrop of olive skin littered with beauty marks. As if this guy needed any more indicators of how beautiful he was. Jesus.

Eddie dares to give him a rapid look up and down, and it is also awful news because not only did they give him the face of an angel, but they had to provide him with a body that would launch a million classical sculptors across all time into action. His shoulders are broad and sit atop two very pleasantly muscular arms. The white cotton t-shirt embraces them, one tighter than the other as it's rolled a little higher to hold his pack of smokes. The fabric stretches over his chest to reveal the mounds and dips of an anatomical landscape that Eddie is sure he would happily sit and admire for longer than any national landmark this fair country had to offer. Then the killing blow by this everyday garment is struck by how it falls and clings to his stomach, revealing he’s even got a little slightly soft tummy on him. Eddie is starting to feel light-headed. This cannot be real.

Then Eddie notices something else, he’s wearing an apron, and in his arms is a crate of apples. He fucking works here. Oh god. Oh, god, no! Eddie starts to feel like he's overheating, and he’s eyelids flutter unintentionally.

“You ok dere, buddy?” The man’s smile and amusement take an eighty per cent plummet as they look over Eddie with concern.

He’s overwhelmed by everything happening right now, the whole day of mistakes leading up to it, questioning if it was even the right choice to come to the city in the first place. If all of these things were glaring warning signs, pointing him to go back home to Hawkins, stop chasing stupid dreams, and get a job with his Uncle Wayne at the factory. And this…this man at his local store of all places spelt trouble for him. He wasn’t good at hiding his thoughts or feelings, no matter how hard he tried. 

That was it decided. He would turn around now, go pack, and go home. This was a stupid idea. Eddie feels a tightness across his shoulders start to spread, his palms heat up, and he realises he’s been staring into space for the last few seconds. 

He tries to run, but his legs suddenly feel like lead, and though he’s stopped, the world spins around a few more times. Instead of the street being in his eye line, the horizon starts to fall, and all he can see is the sky before he feels his back hit something, but it's not hard like the ground. Soon, the horizon returns, as does the street and the face of an angel, moving him to sit on the ground outside the store, next to a pyramid of oranges.

“I need ya to sit right here, ok buddy. I’m gonna get ya some water, alright?” the angel’s mouth moves, and Eddie watches it seriously to make sure he can hear every one of his precious words.

He pats him on the shoulders, steps toward the store door, and pauses before looking back and tilting his head, “Whats ya name?”

He is still a little dizzy, but he knows the answer to that question, “Eddie.” he replies quickly. 

The man smiles hugely and repeats his name like he’s testing it out. He places his toothpick behind his ear, “I’m Stefano, yous can call me Steve. Most do,” he gives him a little two-finger wave and disappears inside the store.

[f1-stuff]

Austin GP '23 // Thurs Interview

"Without Qatar, I was thinking I could (catch Fernando). After Qatar... I'll still give it a go - not with Fernando or Lewis, or anyone. Just for my own sake, keeping it pushing until the end of the year like I always do."

[reallyromealone]

FORTUNE TELLER 11

Part 10 🔮 current 🔮part 12

Warnings: sexual abuse, panic attacks, drugging, self harm, cross dressing

🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮

Koko smiled as he and Sanzu were left alone with their little dove, poor (name) fiddling with his fingers and tried to make himself as small as possible under Sanzus piercing gaze "you can't go out today but that doesn't mean we can't have fun in here" Koko said almost lovestruck as he sauntered over to the seer "and we can have fun, can't we?" His question was rhetorical but (name) nodded in fear of what could happen and Koko just grinned "good boy"

Surprisingly, Kokos version of fun was fairly tame.

Fortune telling with cards.

(Name) was just thankful it wasn't him doing the fortunes.

"You can't tell your own fortunes so let me tell you yours!" Sanzu wanted to put a bullet through his skull but didn't say anything as he glanced at (name) who looked a little curious about the tarot cards before him "you never got your fortune read before?" Koko asked as he saw the look of confusion that was painted on (name)s face "well who knows, your fortune could be fun!"

(Name) didn't know how that could even be possible given his current situation but who knows.

Maybe this place will burn to the ground with them all in it.

Koko seemed giddy as he let (name) shuffle the cards "now pick three cards and set them face up the way you lifted them"

(Name) tentatively placed the cards from the top of the deck onto the table"w...what do they mean?" He asked softly, jolting slightly as Sanzus hand made it on his hip, rubbing circles and teasing the others waistband.

"Hmm let's see... Oh my" Kokos eyes were wide as Sanzu rested his head on (name)s shoulder, breath tickling his ear "what is it?" He asked with a raised eyebrow "his future will basically freedom of the unknown... Oh no wait it's a future of bondage and tragedy" Koko said passively and Sanzu grinned, his scars reminding (name) of devil horns "bondage... How fun"

All (name) could think of is that this fortune basically spat in his face that he could never be happy.

He could never be free.

Sanzu recognized the look that washed over (name), that was the look he had before he freaked out.

Tears rolled down (name)s cheeks as his nails dug into the palms of his hands to the point of blood shed "don't worry starlight, we will make it all better"

That made it worse.

(Name) began hyperventilating as Sanzu pulled him close and in one fell swoop used pressure points to (name)s body to force his body to relax, in his hazed and panicked state be could hear Sanzu tell koko to grab the cocktail.

Shit.

He had to be calm, fuck fuck fuck!

He could feel the needle press into his neck and within minutes his body felt numb "you were doing so well too..."

Sanzu was surprisingly gentle as he cleaned up the wounds on (name)s hands, wrapping them "now, Koko has a surprise for you" Sanzus grin was manic as he lifted Bontens beloved up up and over to the sitting room where Koko had a bunch of expensive bags and such "don't worry, we can still have loads of fun!" Koko said pulling out something (name) definitely not agree to with a sound mind, Sanzu grinning at the piece.

RIIIING

RIIIING

"Speak" Sanzu hissed into the phone as Koko took his sweet time taking off (name)s shirt, the white haired man kissing (name)s temple as (name) swayed around to a non existent song.

"Koko, the king wants (name) at Bonten headquarters"

Koko sighed and out (name)s shirt back on "I guess dress up with have to wait till later"

(Name) never touched sunlight, the two making sure no cops could even get a glance at (name).

It would ruin the surprise after all.

The other six Bonten men looked happy, even Mikey looked less...well Mikey.

(Name) was placed in Mikey's lap, head lulling on the others shoulder as Ran walked over with dental putty "open wide angel" ran said as Mikeys fingers opened up (name)s mouth and the sight had no right being erotic to Ran but it did.

Mikey pressed (name)s jaw closed to get the imprint "you stole my mouth...." (Name) slurred with furrowed eyebrows once ran removed the putty and plastic piece "don't worry starlight, we just copied your teeth"

"Why...?"

"Don't worry about it, here have a macaron" Kakucho pressed the cookie to the others lips and watched (name) munch on it "so what did the little stoner do?"

"Koko read his fortune for fun and he lost his shit at the fortune" Sanzu said simply "he was doing so good too, well at least now he is more compliant"

"Hey, (name)" Mikey said softly, catching the others attention and (name) sluggishly turned to look at him "sleep" he said kissing the corner of (name)s mouth before applying pressure to a pressure point and watching him go limp.

The summer air felt nice around (name) as he stood on a balcony looking out to the street.

"What are you doing out here?" Mikeys voice rang out behind him and wrapped his arms around (name)a waist in a loving embrace and (name) gently touched the man's white hair, the strands soft between his fingers before gripping tightly and in one fell swoop pulled them both over the railing.

(Name) smiled as his body made impa---

Naoto wanted to vomit as he looked at the charred body before him.

All the markers fit (name).

But... Something wasn't right.

It didn't add up, why go through all that effort just to kill him.

"The tests came back, it's not a match" the mortition said to the detective "the teeth are fake, it almost fooled me but it's resin"

"Then that means he's still out there"

He would save (name) or so fucking help him.

(Name) no longer left the building, they kept him locked away like a decorative doll.

Something for their eyes only.

(Name) expected them to use him again, why wouldn't they? He's practically a cheat code for them.

They brought people to him, had them bound and gagged as they did mundane things like eat breakfast and Bonten acted like it wasn't tense, talking away as if a beaten man wasn't half conscious at the table with Rindō tasing him every so often to keep him awake.

(Name) tried not to make eye contact with the man whom he had yet to be introduced to, trying to think of anything else.

They dressed him in traditional women's clothing, high quality garments and had him sit either in their laps or on a cushion on the floor as they did things.

It was incredibly dehumanizing and it took everything not to throttle Mikey, he had witnessed Mikey's strength when someone tried attacking the blond.

It was horrifying.

"It's time starlight" Rans voice rang out once they finished eating, practically forcing (name) to eat these days.

Ran held (name) seemingly with so much care and love as he led him to the victim, (name) was no longer allowed to wear gloves after scratching Koko in a fit of panic.

The headaches post reading got worse.

He thought his head was going to explode at this point.

God he just wanted it to end.

Naoto had people watching the building he's seen Bonten frequent the most, waiting for any sign of (name) so he could get a warrant.

He was so close he could feel it.

It was never going to end, was it?

(Name) had done three readings today, now he lay on Mikey's bed, the silks freezing as Mikeys room was always cold.

The drugs made it impossible to fight back with anything, including Mikey's advances.

Nothing could get rid of... Of what Mikey's done to him.

What they all had done to him though they hadn't...done that yet.

Thank god.

They had a makeup artist come in, doing (name)s makeup pretty and making him unrecognizable "were going somewhere special, to many eyes in Tokyo trying to gaze upon you" Kakucho said softly to the semi drugged man, (name) staring at him with a cold expression as he wasn't drugged enough to be giggly and loopy.

He just struggled to formulate proper sentences and was very hazy and wavy.

There was an issue in the garage, a cop tried bugging it so they had to disguise him to take him outside, making him look like a beautiful woman to throw people off.

It was pretty convincing too.

"So behave, good boys get a reward"

Bonten had a compound Osaka, having it converted to be an ornate cage for sweet (name).

(Name) was brought down via elevator, Takeomi keeping a hand on his hip and Ran had an arm aroud his shoulder.

Naoto knew his plan would work.

He knew what he did would force Bonten to bring (name) outside, the criminals dressing (name) up as to smuggle him without issue as (name)a face was plastered on missing posters around Tokyo and besides...

Naoto could recognize those eyes anywhere.

That was (name).

Rindō noticed Naoto speed walking closer and sighed, pushing (name) into the first car as he, Mochi Sanzu and Koko stared down the detective "can we help you detective? We're quite busy" Koko said condicendingly as he clicked the car door shut.

"Who was that?"

"Who was who?"

"That person!"

"Detective, I don't have time for these games" Koko said with false exhaustion "we have places to be, now if there's nothing more to say" Koko said shutting down the conversation and Naoto gritted his teeth as they drove off.

Rushing to his car, Naoto wasted zero time following the two black SUVs that contained (name).

He wasn't going to lose him again.

He owed him that much.

[tiredassmage]

contract negotiation

And the promised ficlet to go with the bounty hunter-Tyr run post, lol.

Lana Beniko requires one last piece to move forward with her plans to infiltrate Zakuul. The final link is personal, and he's not particularly pleased to see her - nor is his new partner. But he'll listen. Not for her. But for their target. R: Teen for some language. Hyroh belongs to beloved @hyrohkaah

The club music fades behind her as she walks down the dim hall, tucking her datapad tighter to her side. She really shouldn’t have been as surprised as she may have been that her contact had slipped into the… channels that he had. She had, however, managed to fail to be surprised that he’d been so hard to even find, let alone worm her way into his circle enough to…

Well, Lana frowns briefly at the thought. He’d probably noticed her entrance into his orbit rather early. He just-

A soft thunk accompanies the brief flash of light off a lithe blade hurled across the room. Lana instinctively takes a step to the side, though as her gaze follows through, the blade finds its mark with ease in the center of a battered target. The outer rings are relatively untouched.

Her gaze flicks back across the room. Perfect follow-through form, even over the table. Pale storm gray eyes flicker over her above black fabric drawn across his lower face. His hair’s a bit shorter than she remembers last seeing and it’s… not such a strict cut. The lack of supervision’ll do that.

The man straightens and flicks a wrist at the small droid idle in the corner. A few beeps and whirs precede it slowly making its way to the door. It slides shut behind the machine.

Lana’s eyes narrow slightly. “You were hard to find.”

A huff sounds from the man as he sinks back into a seat. “Not hard enough, it seems,” he growls slightly - in a distinctly Rim drawl lacking any familiar sharpness from Dromund Kaas.

But still distinctly Cipher Nine to her ears.

She sniffs and rolls her jaw, turning to face him and untucking the datapad from her shawl. “Yet you still agreed to meet me.”

His sharp eyes slant the slightest touch as his chin tilts up. He gestures to the empty seat beside him - plush, though worn red barely betrayed by the back light gleaming from panels low to the floor. If she hadn’t known him already, she might’ve wondered how he could make out the target on the other side of the room.

“Don’t make me regret it,” he warns.

Lana takes a seat as Nine pulls the pistol from the holster at his hip and sets it out on the table. For now, the barrel faces the door. Lana passes him a frown, but his eyes don’t flinch from hers as he tugs down the bandana. Swirls of black ink - or is it paint? - mask his jawline in a swooping pattern.

She never would’ve taken him for the type.

A sharp, elusive smile appears across his lips. Of course he’d follow her thoughts. “I’ve already run into some of your friends,” he says, voice low and prowling, threat still lacing every syllable despite the even way he sits with her, like they would have back on Rishi.

Lana’s lips thin into a grim line. “I assure you, I was not on your trail for your… work.”

He snorts. “But you won’t deny that you knew of it.” He tilts back into his seat heavily, buckles clinking faintly on his jacket. It somehow seems to drown out the low drone of club music still humming in the walls.

She frowns and drops the datapad on the table pointedly. “When one of my former agents-” She carefully sidesteps around naming him ‘Cipher.’ “Is taking shots at what few political figureheads are left in the Empire, yes. It may have been part of my job to notice.”

Nine’s lips peel back briefly. If he could have growled like the Cathar… She’s certain he would have. “I’m not interested,” he grunts with a dismissive flick of a hand at the datapad.

“This isn’t Imperial.”

“Fuck off,” he mutters. One hand races up to scrub along his jaw. “They’re dead, if you’re still looking for them.”

Lana crooks a brow. “I hardly have time to be looking for a few corpses in this, even if I was here for the Empire.”

His pale eyes latch back onto her with venom. The smile across his lips only turns up, but there’s an icy stillness to him she’d have a hard time forgetting. “And isn’t that just the crutch,” he says. Nine shakes his head. “I’m not interested,” he repeats sternly, each word firm and clear. “You know, who would have thought Hutts and corporate suck-ups could be more upfront than Sith?”

“This is about your Jedi.” She exhales sharply. Nine had been testy with her since Rishi, but she didn’t have time for this. Not now.

The man went statuesque still across from her, smile vanishing silently from his lips. His eyes flicker from her to the datapad and linger for a moment before they drift back. He rolls his jaw carefully. “Don’t you dare,” he breathes.

Lana folds her arms across her chest and nods to the datapad, unlocking it preemptively. He’d listen. “This isn’t Sith Intelligence, Nine,” she says quietly. “They weren’t a fan of my… inquiries.”

His eyes narrow. He hesitates a moment longer. Then, he leans forward and swipes the datapad from the table. “No,” he drawls, “I wouldn’t imagine so.”

“I can’t make guarantees,” she warns as he starts to sift through the information. “But the timelines corroborate.”

He finds the security footage, the official press releases from Zakuul, the claim an ‘Outlander’ had assassinated their Emperor. His jaw shifts so slightly it might have been just the light flickering off the screen if she hadn’t been watching him so closely.

One of his hands flexes tightly into a fist before he reaches to cover his mouth. “No one should have…”

“The Empire and Republic have both kept quiet on what happened to the fleet,” Lana says. “That’s what has taken us so long…”

“‘Us?’” Nine echoes, crooking a brow.

He wasn’t going to miss that. Of course. Lana sniffs. “Theron Shan and I have been in contact to trade information. It’s only been recent.”

He puffs out a faint breath - not quite a snort or snide laugh. Regardless, his eyes move back to the datapad without further comment. His fingers toy along the edge of the screen for a few moments longer.

“You need into Zakuul?”

Lana nods. “And you are still one of the best field agents I’ve seen. And…” Nine’s eyes narrow at her, but she tilts her chin up. “I dared to think it would be important to you.”

He takes in a breath, but they’re interrupted by a ring on his comm. Nine holds up a hand to keep her silent and taps in to answer. Whatever is said makes him frown for a moment as he eyes the datapad before his gaze flicks to the door.

“Yea,” he finally gives back into the comm, “Send her in.”

Lana’s head tilts. Nine only sets the datapad down and stands, collecting his pistol off the table and returning it to his holster.

“Hey, Ky.” A woman with short, dark hair greets as the door opens again, though her brown eyes quickly jump between him and Lana and her head tilts. “Sorry, I… didn’t know you had company?”

“Mako.” Nine gestures her in and indicates the last remaining seat. “You’re not interrupting. My… old associate here was just introducing me to a potential job.”

“Oh. You’ve worked together before?” Mako’s brow knits at Lana’s golden gaze and she frowns, eyeing Nine cautiously. “You… gonna introduce us?”

“Yes, Ky,” Lana chirps as she folds her hands in her lap, expectant eyes settling on the former Cipher as he and Mako sit down. “I’m sure you haven’t lost your manners.”

Nine kicks her leg under the table. Lana’s smile merely widens a touch. “Lana Beniko, Minister of Sith Intelligence,” Nine says with a sweeping hand.

“Former Minister,” Lana chimes in as Mako tenses.

“Ky?” she hisses.

“Easy, Mako,” Nine says, holding up a placating hand. “She’s…” A faint frown briefly slips over his lips and disappears just as quickly. “Alright.” Mako frowns a bit harder. Nine sighs and shrugs. “It’s… complicated. Just… trust me.”

“Soo.” Mako leans over to elbow him, still eyeing him suspiciously. “What’s the job?”

Nine chews on his lip for a moment before he pushes the datapad towards her, ignoring Lana’s questioning look and disapproving thinned lips. “Take a look for yourself”

Mako raises a doubtful brow before she accepts. “Zakuul?” Nine nods and Mako’s gaze flicks to their would-be sponsor. “And what interest would a Sith have in this?”

Lana starts to answer before Nine shakes his head. He inhales slowly. “Because… Hyroh, Lana, and I… all have history.”

Hyroh. That was the name in some of these files - an important Jedi that'd gone missing, suspected to be this 'Outlander' Zakuul was on about. Mako’s brow tightens and a frown cautiously settles over her lips. “What kind of history?”

Nine’s fingers play restlessly against one another. “We worked together,” he says quietly, “several years ago. Against a threat bigger than any one side of the war.”

“We’re in need of that strength again,” Lana interjects carefully. Her golden eyes linger over Nine as he watches the loop of information and images across the datapad screen with a cloudy gaze. “Theron won’t be able to join us, not yet.” She dares to reach across the table and rest a hand over Nine’s arm - he blinks. “I couldn’t trust anyone else with this, Nine.”

“Nine?” Mako's eyes narrow at him.

He rolls his jaw again and carefully pulls away from Lana’s touch - she lets him, hands returning to her lap - and clears his throat quietly. “I won’t ask you to come with me.”

Mako nudges his arm. “C’mon, Ky,” she says, “You don’t have to. You… You’re not…” Nine’s eyes level with hers calmly. Mako’s features tighten and her lip trembles slightly. “You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

Nine’s gaze drops briefly to his hands where he’s linked them on top of the table. He nods as he looks back up. “This is… personal, Mako.”

“You are not going alone!” Mako slams a fist into the table. “Not after the Kaasi job!”

He frowns slightly. “I’m not,” he says. Mako initially tenses, looking ready to leap into an itemized defense of her point, but he raises his hand and staves her off a moment longer. “I’ll still need a team for reconnaissance, won’t I?”

Mako eases back into her seat, flexing out her fist. “Good,” she says. “So… when do we start?”

A smile flickers faintly across Nine’s lips. “Well, Lana?” he muses, leaning back in his seat and looking back to the Sith. “Sounds like you have a deal.”

“Good.” Lana indicates the datapad again. “Give me your contact information and I’ll start forwarding details over the next few days. Is there anything else I should be aware of, given your current… status?”

“Mako?” Nine leans forward and starts to enter their new contact information in for Lana’s records. “Send a message to Vector,” he says. “I won’t leave him in the cold over this. We load out by the end of the week though, affirmative?”

“On it, boss.” Mako nods and slips out of her chair, slipping out of the office.

Nine waits until the door closes before he looks back at Lana again. “Thank you for this,” he says quietly. “Even if you should have told me sooner.”

Lana clicks her tongue with a mild hiss of annoyance, cuffing him on the arm as she stands and collects her datapad. “You made yourself so hard to find.” Nine scoffs.

“Lana?”

She pauses where she’s started for the door, turning to look over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“If we do this,” he says, “You take me all the way. I’m not leaving him. Not again.”

For a moment, her expression remains neutral, contemplative. She takes him in carefully again - head to toe. The battle-aged eyes, the careful pattern of black paint just narrowly obscuring fresher scaring along his neck and jaw, the dark leather jacket hugging his shoulders and swooping low to drape down the back of his legs, the few holsters she can see and her imagination filling in the rest.

Kyranthe Rayne watches her back, just as studious. But she knew Cipher Nine, can feel the sharpness lingering in eyes that still reflected the vengeance of a Kaasi storm. And she’d known something of the man that’d answered to Tyr Deckard, ex-Cipher and independent agent of the Empire - an Imperial ghost story in the flesh.

Her lips thin. “I fear that will compromise your judgement, Nine,” she says evenly.

“I’m not negotiating.”

“I know,” Lana sighs. “I couldn’t stop you if I tried.”

Nine’s jaw tightens again. “Neither will they,” he says quietly. “I’ll see you around, Minister.”

Lana rolls her eyes and turns again to leave. “Don’t call me that. You know I hate it.”

She can feel Nine’s prowling smile on her back as she steps into the hall.

[everlastiingiimmortals]

For Veturas (or to the mun if he can't answer smh), but other than your beloved wife: Are there any other gods/goddesses you consider friends? If not, then do you have a good opinion about them as an individual overall? Are there any you wouldn't mind making friends with?

THANK YOU!!! Unprompted. Always accepting!

The gyrfalcon stares unblinkingly at you from its perch on a branch. Moments pass. You shiver, waiting for an answer, but the silence stretches on. Your breath clouds in the frigid air. You feel stupid; maybe this animal is not the Winter God, but just an animal after all? What are you doing here, standing in the middle of a frozen forest talking to a bird in the hopes that it would respond to your naive questions? Asking a god about friends... The notion of its ridiculousness hits you suddenly and you huff, wiping the frost from your lashes and turning to leave. The snow crunches underneath your feet.

There's a flutter of feathers -- the falcon follows.

You've heard the stories. The abyssal gods are the cruel, unpredictable kind, and even the Cold One is not free of viciousness. Few dare to actually enter his domain, for fewer ever return alive. The raptor's gaze is sharp as it glides in lazy circles far above your head. You keep your eyes down, fixed on the trail of your own footsteps.

You are lucky the snowfall is not heavy, nor early. The prints have not filled in yet.

Just as you reach the edge of the forest, where the ice-covered altar of the Winter God quietly stands, the silver falcon swoops slow and wide, fluttering to a halt right beside the marble structure. Wings and tail become a cloak, feathers become skin and hair. He is tall, far taller than you anticipated. One hand seems chiseled out of Everice, matching the frozen pauldron on his shoulder. His hair is the same silver as the feathers that had adorned his body only moments prior, and the silverwood mask of a snow leopard obscures half his face. You find yourself wondering what color his eyes are -- people say many things: that he inherited the eyes of the Abyss like his brothers, that his eyes are the deepest blues of the most beautiful nymph to have ever lived, that his eyes are like ice crystals, and clear, that his eyes rival the Northern Lights themselves. Only when the head of Veturas, Father of the Auroras turns to you do you realize you are staring, and you quickly look towards the ground and grip your coat tighter, the blood roaring in your ears.

You are either very lucky, or about to die, standing just beyond the border of his domain.

There is silence once again.

Then the god sighs, and you feel it in your bones more than you hear it.

Friends... His voice is raspy and hoarse, as if unused for a long time. It reminds you of the shifting and echoing cracks of a lake that's been frozen solid. Only a mortal would ask that of a god. The words scrape around in your skull, bringing a headache. You feel as though you ate something cold, numbing the roof of your mouth. You steal a glance upwards; his lips do not move as he speaks.

When the gods laugh and celebrate, I slumber. When they bicker, I do not participate. When they call for me, I do not answer. I spurn the Sun with my wakefulness. The Wind lost parts of his domain to me. I have no interest in mingling with the arrogant and vengeful. Only to Spring do I yield; only Life do I greet.

The god steps forward soundlessly, and you feel the air chill further around you. You flinch and keep your gaze fixed to your feet as he brushes past like a frigid gust, heading into the forest. When you feel brave enough to look back, all that's left is the rattling of the trees in the wind. You still feel the throbbing pain of his voice in your head.

And only the Moon and Innocence do I love.

You remain rooted to the spot for a while before finding the will to move, stumbling forth on shaky legs back home. The sun is setting soon, but fortunately the wolves seem absent tonight.

Congratulations. You encountered Veturas, God of Winter, in a good mood. Next time you may not be so lucky.

[fourseasonsfigs]

Fuguihua Couple

The name of this fig set is 富贵花夫妇, which googling around tells me is perhaps a play on 花开富贵, blooming flowers bring prosperity, an auspicious New Year's greeting.

富贵花 is also the name of the Desert Rose, a bright pink flower that is considered lucky:

(thanks to David Clode on Unsplash for the beautiful picture!)

I'm thinking that, in the classic way of layering meanings in Chinese, this also refers to Zhehan's bright pink jacket from the Vogue photoshoot that's the inspiration for Zhehan's fig (and chair).

Here's the pictures of Zhehan in his Lanvin jacket:

This outfit is much beloved in the fandom for the "dragonfruit" pairing with Junjun's bright pink LV suit, which will be the subject of a future fig post!

Speaking of Junjun, we have a two part inspiration for him. Here's the inspiration for his chair (and his pose):

This picture was in a shoot he did for Tiffany (which is also immortalized in fig form, see here). The fig maker specifically wanted his LV outfit, however (yep, also in another fig incarnation here), so here's the outfit inspiration:

This is not my favorite LV look of Junjun's, but I'm clearly in the minority here just given the figthusiast interest in this leather jacket!

This set is just chock full of details! Before we even get into the figs themselves, the chairs themselves are amazing. They are one piece with the figs, so no removing them here, but that's just as well I don't have to worry about gluing.

May I just say how much Zhehan is a delight in this set! I love the swoop of his hairstyle here, and how the fig maker perfectly got that wisp of hair floating over his forehead. I also adore his insouciant pose combined with that delightful expression it's all just flirty, casually confident, and super expensive.

Our precious Junjun is looking a little haughty here, with what I think of as the classic Very Serious Model Face (fig tm). Again, the posing is great here, which you'll be able to see in better detail as we rotate around the figs.

The detail on the chairs here is just beautiful. I also love how Junjun's a bit posed back in the chair, whereas Zhehan is sitting straight up, not even using the backrest, with his gorgeously perfect posture. Zhehan's posture and carriage is unparalleled, at least in my experience - I have never seen a man with such effortlessly (appearing) beautiful posture. It's strong and elegant at the same time, just incredible. It's actually the reason I was inspired to start taking Pilates, in an attempt to re-align my posture from someone that works at a desk job all day.

Anyway! back to the figs. You can see some of the beautiful tiny detail of the LV iconography on Junjun's suit and tie, which is frankly extremely impressive given the insanely small size the factory is working at here. It's also a good shot of his Tiffany rings.

This angle is CUTE. They look like they're having a very cozy chat, and you can practically see the personality in Zhehan's eyes! We have more of the different postures here, and of course some really beautiful detail on the chairs. Not a bad shot of Zhehan's earring, too.

Not a ton of further detail from this angle,but you're starting to be able to see more of Zhehan's longer hair in the back.

Which you can see more of here! I'm always delighted by attention that is paid to details that can't normally be seen, so the detail on the backs of the chairs is wonderful to me.

We're getting some of Zhehan's elegant hand pose here!

Oh interesting - can you see the bit of a notch on the back of Junjun's head? It almost looks like he was designed to be actually leaning back in the chair the way he's doing it in the original pose picture. Which makes total sense, I bet that is actually the design and the factory just glued him a bit more upright. Maybe his feet wouldn't have been able to touch the ground if he had been leaned back more. I might check (VERY gently) to see how secure the glue is and if I can wiggle him down at all.

Yeah, I think I can definitely see a notch there! Well, either way I'm happy, it's a great fig!

This is a particularly good angle to see the detailing on Junjun's outfit, as well as the mole on his ear (this fig maker always includes that detail!). As someone who actually really loves LV, I am so impressed with the detail on the jacket and the tie. We also get a nice view of Zhehan's layered look here, with the teal belt and printed turtleneck and necklace under his white shirt.

From the top down they really do look like they are having an extraordinarily elegant fireside chat.

More great detail that no one will ever see (but you, dear figthusiast!)

Material: Resin

Fig Count: 244

Scene Count: 18

Rating: Handsome and classy!

[link back to Master Fig Index for more posts]

[seelestia]

v v true!!! oooh omg i remember watching coraline. i'm not much of a horror movie fan (says the one who writes stuff like yandere lmao) so honestly speaking that movie creeped me out esp the eyes halkjfdlakjsd i'm a scaredy cat yup- corpse bride was a delight to watch tho! comfort movies... hmmm. here's the thing, i... i don't watch a lot of movies hahahh 

both you gotta do both. remember to not always give in to that charming smile and scold him sometimes lmao awh lil tsundere lia and the deredere ayato.... new trope unlocked? ;) hsldjfl that sounds very cute and adventurous...... i'd imagine if i caught you two sneaking about at night i'll shut my lips (nepotism at its finest-) and silently sends you away- oh dear hello professor zhongli fancy seeing you here so late at night wow sure is sunny tonight huh haha haha oops i mean moony uh um heh-

THAT WOULD LITERALLY BE ME omg i'll nestle right onto his sides and tuck myself in a floofy blanket and fall asleep hearing his soft breathing. heizou would talk your ears off throughout the movie. somehow predicts the movie's plot within the first ten minutes of watching. welp since the movie's spoiled anyway let's just sleep 😴 

ooooh i am e.x.c.i.t.e.d!!! lmao oh no is this my cue to swoop in to grab zhongli's hand and propose like "I HAVE MONEY YOU CAN USE IT"-

lia. lia i have seen you fawn over scara on your priv. you're down bad. the gremlin man has taken hold of you hsldjfklsd have you seen his teaser? and the voicelines? my god. i am so glad i'll be pulling for him. dw i shall take a lot of screenshots hehehehehehe

we've got meteors and air blades falling from the sky.... next we know al haitham's burst would be durians falling from the sky or something- /j

you're finally welcoming your beloved in your arms!!! woooo!!! so. when's the wedding gonna be at- /lh

it's ok if their back aches we can always pull them aside and persuade them to spend time with us with a massage ✨

well, rin jie, you're stuck with me because i love horror movies (but i prefer psychological horror that makes me take a step back to think) 🤫 i am linking my arms with you so you cannot escape as we speak, hehe. (/lh) and dw abt not being much of a movie watcher, comfort comes in many ways and objects like food and blankets and zhongli's arms—

i am pretty good at scolding people without being a spoilsport (and i always happen to get attracted to brats with brains heizou and scara), so rest assured ayato is left under good supervision! >:) AND I SWEAR I AM A HOSTAGE-TURNED ACCOMPLICE... rin jie, your kindness will be the kickstart to my nepo baby era. (/j) but i'll do my best to make you proud! you can trust me on potions and herbology ;D i think ayato would excel at charms and have lots of interest in the study of ancient runes?? but wbu, what subjects would you and oh-so gracious professor zhongli would teach?? hehe, my fav couple to tease and giggle at as long as i don't get points off hufflepuff >:3c (/lh)

and i've gotta say that zhongli genuinely looks like he'd be the warmest and coziest to cuddle out of all the men?? i'm not sure if it's the earthy color palette he has, but i still gotta hand it to you 🤧 ayato's is also cozy since you get bonuses of having your hair smoothened and played with whilst you snooze on his chest or maybe i'm just biased, HELP??

yes, i've finally put aside my pride to admit that i am now an official scara kisser. i can't believe i have way more posts on my priv about denying scara instead of expressing my love for ayato 😮‍💨 i'm not sure if you played thru the interlude quest but lmk if you did because that quest was the final push for me personally, UUUUUU. OH AND DO SEND ME THOSE SCREENSHOTS 👀 make him do a michael jackson spin in the air (/j)

I SAW ALHAITHAM'S LEAKS... and iirc, the names for his talents are literally topics in physics??? THIS MAN 😭 good luck getting him soon, rin jie! it seems yaoyao will be on his banner?? she's super cute, but i'm still waiting for kaveh tho fhejkskek. OH AND I HOPE YOU'LL WIN THE 50/50 FOR AYATO TOO! <3 this update's 2nd phase is about to be my spending phase because i'll be pulling for ei on 50/50 after i get ayato 🤧 i think ei + ayato will be a good combo, so i'm really hoping i get her! if not, then guaranteed for alhaitham maybe?? or i'll save for another rerun or for future fontaine characters >:)