#wait til she finds out about lash extensions

[the-badger-mole]

I have this idea for an ATLA fic that has our intrepid team meeting aliens and accidentally getting "abducted". The aliens are us (and other inhabitants from around the universes, but it's basically a generation ship). I have no real reason for wanting to do this except to have the characters interact with things from our world without having to set a story in our world.

Also, I just really want to have a moment with Ty Lee reacting to the fact that she can have bright pink hair (one of the aliens is an aspiring hair dresser) and there is a whole scene of Ty Lee seeing all the different hair possibilities and an never wanting to leave the ship. Is this fic ever going to get written? Who knows? I just like thinking about it and I thought I'd share.

[dovewingz]

talk about ur ocs <3 & if they have any; what are their theme songs, zodiacs and erm opinions on each other

*kisses u* /p

i do actually have an oc blog but *pushes that away* im waiting til i actually start working on the story to use that more. anyway ill talk a bit abt the main trio of friends >:)c

shadowpaw, doepaw and beechpaw are all best friends and i love them very much <3 <3 doe + beech are siblings, beech + shadow are a little bit....... y’know 😏,  doe + shadow are just friends im still fleshing their individual dynamic out

they all have playlists (here) which sort of have no context spoilers for the whole story but OH WELL. i could figure out their actual zodiacs by working out when exactly they were born but uhhhh i dont rlly believe in astrology so i’ll just put their personalities below. if any astrology bitches (endearing) see this and want to assign them zodiacs from those go wild

anyway im gonna keep going heres more info on their individual relationships :3c

doepaw + beechpaw: very close but tbh the only reason they hang out together is because their friends happen to the same lmao. their parents are Highly respected so they sorta feel the weight of the world on their shoulders. they deal with this in very different ways. doe overthinks her every choice, fearing that one wrong move will result in the whole world turning against her. beech “lashes out” in a sense, where he breaks the rules and ignores all the hard expectations on him, he doesnt let himself get trapped in the present for too long! this leads to Shenanigans

doepaw + shadowpaw: these two are still getting developed... but doe rlly appreciates shadow because hes one of the only cats who sees her for HER rather than as an extension of her parents. hes initially not very friendly to her bc of his own family issues but as he gets to know her, he learns to trust & rely on her :] she has a v nurturing spirit and shadow tends to soften when hes with her

shadowpaw + beechpaw: simply best friends™ but, like, that doesnt quite Feel Right??? neither of them can describe it so they just dont! unspoken feelings bless!! it took a long time for shadow to warm up to beech but beech just kept trying to befriend him (think this post) and eventually they became inseparable! they both constantly find ways to break the rules + are pure chaos together. shadow uhhhhh he can be a bit codependent and beech pretty much always wants to spend time with someone and talk and Do Things so their dynamic works pretty well........... for now

all together they are the literal embodiment of those t-shirts....... “i get us into trouble” “i somehow make it worse” “i get us out of trouble”

personalities

shadowpaw [+] loyal, protective, committed, retentive, hardworking [=] blunt, bold, stubborn [-] impulsive, defensive, antagonistic, unfriendly, avoidant

doepaw [+] compassionate, empathetic, attentive, responsible, polite [=] quiet, careful, obedient [-] perfectionistic, non-confrontational, indecisive, self-doubtful,

beechpaw [+] optimistic, friendly, hopeful, nonconformist, devoted [=] forward-thinking, energetic, forgiving [-] impulsive, facetious, restless, disorderly, dependant (gets bored easy, relies on constant attention/stimulation)

[bastardsonofday]

Rise Up

AU where Feyre died during the first task. 

So this was part of the Angst!Bingo prompts that I started doing and then I decided this could be a longer fic so that fic is still to come and this is more a... prologue fic. 

Prompt: Dystopia

ao3

Rhysand swallowed thickly. To be honest he was surprised there was anything left of Lucien Vanserra, but Little Lucien was as hot headed as a child and as persistent as the seasons. This was the fifth time in the last three months that Lucien knelt before Her. She’d let him keep his second eye, so that he could watch as people (and sometimes he, himself) paid for his sins, and yet he kept making them. His metal eye had been ripped from his head, it was mounted on her throne, as if a rare gemstone. It swiveled and swirled, as it was still some how connected to him, seeing whatever it saw.

“Again, Lucien?” Amarantha tsked. She tapped a manicured finger against her chin. “I’m starting to think we should make your cell permanent.”

Lucien glared at her defiantly with his remaining eye, a fire burning inside.

“What? No cute comeback?” Amarantha crooned. A sadistic smile began to light up her face. “Ah, that’s right!” She turned to the arm of her throne and picked up a thick piece of rotting tongue off of a spike decorating the chair. It crawled with maggots and flies buzzed around her hand. Rhysand had spoken to her about it on multiple occasions, but she wanted to keep it until it was no more. “Your punishment for the last time you pulled something like this. Really, Vanserra, someone should teach you manners. I blame your father, really.”

Rhysand saw Lucien’s jaw tense.

“What to do… what to do… You know Lucien, I actually like you. Maybe it’s because I see myself in you… see you in me...” She smirked. She loved the flaunting, the show. “See you... in me...” The words rolled across her tongue and Lucien, to his credit, didn’t flinch. “That’s just it… isn’t it?” She waved a hand dismissively at Rhysand and his stomach dropped into his knees.

No.

No no no no no no no no no-

“Rhysand, darling, you’re dismissed from your duties tonight. It seems I will have to tame Lucien’s fiery spirit myself. And maybe...” She looked down at Lucien’s lap, then dragged her eyes back up to his face. “Take away some of his toys.” no no nO NO NO NO NO-

Lucien’s mouth opened slightly in shock, his breath came faster in what could have been frantic. NO NO NO NO-

“Amarantha.” The word fell from Rhysand’s mouth before he could think about the repercussions. He hoped, at the very lest, it sounded stony.

Amarantha stilled and the air turned to ice. “Yes?” The question was almost innocent. Almost.

“I’d-miss you tonight.” Rhysand said. Mask on. Mask on. You’re nothing but a mask. This is an act, play the part.

“That’s sweet darling, really.” Amarantha said in a low voice, just for Rhysand to hear. Just for the chill to crawl down his back. “But I’m sure you could find someone to spend time with.”

“Please.” Rhysand whispered, barely able to get the words out. In for a penny, in for a pound. Lucien’s eyebrows raised just slightly.

Rhysand bent over Amarantha’s throne, his mouth sucking on Amarantha’s ear. “Please.” He said again, only for her to hear.

A grin curled at Amarantha’s blood-red lips. “I do like to hear you beg.” She hummed.

Rhysand took the hint. He dropped to his knees, carefully, slowly bending ‘til he reached her shoe. “Please.” He whispered, kissing her toes. He moved up slightly kissing her again. “Please.” Rhysand could could feel her eyes on him as he moved up Amarantha’s body, pleading all the way. Amarantha was glowing in the limelight, he knew from experience. She sure did love an audience.

“Please.” He begged her when he reached her knee, nipping at the skin. He felt her involuntarily tense. Good, if she was tensing like that he wouldn’t have to do this much longer.

“Please.” He breathed when he reached as far up as her hemline would go, licking the edge.

“Please.” He begged as he pushed his fingers inside her hitting all of her favorite spots first, so he could stop doing this.

He could feel their embarrassment. He flashed into one of the voyeur court members minds, picking a random High Fae. Thankfully none of the other ex-High Lords. Through this Fae’s eyes he checked in on Lucien, who’s face was turned away… for privacy?

Rhysand slipped out of the Fae’s mind, this was too painful to do much less watch. Rhysand waited until her eyes fluttered closed and she let out a long deep sigh. Slowly. Rhysand pulled his fingers out of her (he’d had enough practice to retract them not so fast as to ruin her euphoria, which could be every dangerous to anyone around her), “please,” he whispered once more.

Amarantha’s eyes fluttered open and she stared at Rhysand, waiting. She wanted to see how far he would go.

In for a penny…

Rhysand brought his slick fingers to his lips and licked them clean.

Amarantha stood, brushing down her skirt. She knelt down to Lucien’s level, twirling a strand of his red hair between her fingers.

“Say thank you, Little Lucien.” Rhysand froze. How did she know that nickname? “Rhysand just saved your...” She paused looking at his lap, pointedly, “littler Lucien.” Amarantha grinned. “I supposed that means you own him.” She stood briskly, waving a hand, and Lucien Vanserra was dragged away.

Rhysand walked into the jail cell. He never got to see it when Feyre… when she was alive, and since she’d died… well Rhys hadn’t want to been reminded of what… could have been.

Lucien jumped, wincing as he did. He stared at Rhysand. His eye flicked back and forth, taking Rhysand in. The little amount of light from the open door glinted on Lucien’s mask.

Rhysand took a step forward. Like a vacuum Lucien’s walls fell away. Rhysand was bombarded with one sentiment. Back.

Rhysand stumbled from the force of the thought. Lucien stared at Rhysand, daring him to get closer. Rhysand sorted through the information that had flooded from behind Lucien’s walls, regaining his footing. It had been so long since Lucien had dropped his walls. Centuries.

Why are you here? Lucien thought at him.

“I wanted to check on you.” Rhysand said softly.

Lucien rolled his eye, his thoughts blasting loudly what he believed Rhysand could do with that concern.

Right, the mask. Rhysand reminded himself, all Lucien saw was Rhysand’s mask.

“As appealing as that suggestion sounds, I think I’ll pass.”

Lucien made a rude gesture.

“I came to see you.” Rhysand said after a pause.

Why?

“Maybe that’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Lucien laughed darkly. Of course, part of your cruel games. Why would I expect anything less? Tell Amarantha to fuck off.

“You think I’m down here because of Her?”

Oh so it was your idea to rub the salt in? My bad, your senses of humor are too sadistic to tell apart.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of me making sure you didn’t have to-”

What? Be at her mercy? Oh yeah, because this is so much better.

“What did she do-?” The words slipped out before Rhysand could stop them. All that cut him off was the pain that Lucien threw at him.

Rhysand whimpered, his knees bending under the pain, but he stayed adamantly in the memory.

Amarantha had taken her time. She’d dragged a nail against Lucien’s back, digging and digging into his back. Lucien wouldn’t scream. Only when her nails began scraping muscle did he occasionally cry out. She would heal him, then go back to her carving.

Lucien lost time during then. Slipping in and out of his security mindset, where he went during the excess of time when she implemented her favorite punishments.

When Amarantha was finished she left him in a pool of his blood and tears. She ordered the guards that no one was to see him until she came back.

Lucien didn’t remember what happened next. He assumed he was asleep from the pain—shutting down. He heard her heels clicking on the floor, his body jumped into overdrive.

Amarantha’s guards dragged in a full length mirror.

“I thought you might want to see it.” She’d said as the guards strong-armed Lucien into contorting (a feat he could never do alone with the searing pain radiating from his body) correctly to see. “It is your body after all.”

Lucien’s eyes roamed over the old lashing scars, Rhysand remembered them himself. Lucien had cried out to Feyre (the name still pained Rhys, everything had screamed to help her, to save her, to beg the other High Lords to. But he couldn’t. He’d had Velaris to think about), warning her about the oncoming Wyrm. She had listened, but her human reflexes were too slow, and she had been swallowed whole.

What shocked Rhysand from the remembrance of his mate (the word stung) was what had been carved into Lucien’s back.

Rhysand threw up.

He was out of the memory, Lucien watched him hatefully.

That word…

Happy now? Lucien snarled in his mind, like fingers raking over his brain.

“Lucien… I-”

Poor, poor Little Lucien…

How did she know about the nickname? Lucien asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t tell her.”

Lucien’s shields flew back up after flinging a single sentence at him. Black walls of anger which burned at the touch.

Sure you didn’t, whore.

Lucien’s back flashed in Rhysand’s mind.

His anger and shame were understandable.

Lucien broke eye contact with Rhysand, a clear dismissal.

Rhysand wondered if they could ever be civil to one another, but with the word carved into Lucien’s back he was sure that was now impossible, if it hadn’t been before.

Rhysand left the room, thinking about what Lucien had been marked with.

On one hand, he was surprised that Amarantha would admit a breach of control like that, but on the other hand it made perfect sense. This was what would have eaten at Lucien the most. Then again, Amarantha had Rhys by the balls, so the word didn’t exactly reveal a lapse in power, though Lucien existing seemed to.

He had forgotten to thank Lucien, for continuing to fight even if he didn’t.

Though, he assumed, now with that word by extension he did in a way.

He could feel it whispered across his skin and it sent chills down on his body. He pulled his clothes closer around himself. As long as Lucien was fighting Her, defying Her, so was that word on his back, which meant so was he.

Rhysand’s.