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tannertan36
AnasAbdin

titsay
Cosmic Funnies
trying on a metaphor
Misplaced Lens Cap

roma★
will byers stan first human second
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

oozey mess
ojovivo

Love Begins

#extradirty

Product Placement
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me

Kaledo Art

shark vs the universe
One Nice Bug Per Day

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Xuebing Du
seen from United States

seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Austria
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Australia

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye

seen from Australia

seen from Australia
seen from Vietnam

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
@aamos
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Hiatus
((I’m... going to have to announce a hiatus. I’m sorry.
I’m an emotional trainwreck who apparently doesn’t have neither will nor energy to concentrate in anything else than already established romantic relationships between my characters.
I mean, there are so, so many wonderful muses I’d love to ship with mine but I don’t have the confidence to voice those thoughts so I just stick with the ships (canon, au and ooc) I’ve made with Suula/Teeri!mod. Call it a lack of self-confidence if you may, to me it’s just me being the trashiest trash to ever walk on earth
So uh, in short, I’ll be returning to rp once I’ve gotten over this rubbish phase! I’ll be still checking in ofc so if anyone has any advice for this situation I’d be happy to hear it. I can also be reached through my not safe for work personal blog.))
Notion Of Absence
((EEEAÄEAÄKDSHJKnjds I can't believe I forgot I still had three threads to reply to :''D The thing is, I'm leaving tomorrow to go to Lapland with my family and won't be back home until 8th of March. I'm not sure at all if I can write any replies during the next week (depends if I can get to a decent computer) so I'm sorry!
Have fun meanwhile though and Aamos' askbox is always open! 8)
Here's an unamused Suula:
Even a Hare [Aamos & Lamaenor]
"Inquisitor Aldataur." The Justiciar bows slightly at the waist, hand at her heart, "We are glad you could come."
Lamaenor tilts his head in greeting, the setting sun glinting off his half-moon glasses, “Anything to serve the Dominion.” He answers smoothly, brushing a hand over his gold-embroidered robes. Raakion steps behind him carefully, his eyes a bit haunted, the slightly uneven movements of his head more reminiscent of frightened prey than anything else, “Have you met my son?” Lamaenor continues, his voice still cool and smooth, “Raakion, say hello.”
"Hello." Raakion parrots, immediately, his shoulders not relaxing until Lamaenor gives a soft smile.
The Justiciars eyes lingers just a bit too long on Raakion before she gives a sharp nod in greeting and turns back to Lamaenor.
"We are in great need of your services." She takes a measured step to the side, allowing Lamaenor to pass her and walk by her side, "We are quite lucky an Inquisitor of your caliber is here to help."
"I got as much from your letter, Justiciar." Lamaenor replies, his long black robes sweeping the carefully polished stone, "There is no need for flattery, tell me instead what the Dominion needs from me." The soft and polished stone becomes uneven and rough as they enter the area where the prisoners are kept. The air is stale and heavy with enchantments. Raakions nose twitches slightly at that, at the magic in the air. Lamaenor and the Justiciar are unmoved.
"We captured a squadron of Stormcloaks last week, sir." The Justiciar starts, her hands primly at her side, "On them, they carried a lot of sensitive information pertaining Thalmor movements."
"Ah. And you wish to know from where they got this information?" Lamaenor nods, "I still do not understand why you need my help. I am sure you have fine interrogators here, any of them should be able to break a Nord -"
"They were professionals, with a level of sophistication quite rare in Stormcloaks. Most of them were old Legionnaires, some of them Redguards." Lamaenor makes a soft sound at that.
"Ah. Some Nightshade under their tongue, I assume?"
"Yes. When we captured them, they took out as many of us as they could before poisoning themselves."
"Then comes my next question," Lamaenor says softly, "I am good, but even I can not interrogate a corpse."
"One of them, a Dunmer, survived."
"Why would a Dunmer support the Stormcloaks?" Raakion asks from behind them, quieting with a wince when Lamaenor sends him a glance.
"Not all Dunmer live in the grey quarter, Raakion, and not all Dunmer came here after the Eruption. Some are more Nord than the Nords themselves." Lamaenors voice is soft, but his eyes are sharp.
"Not the case with this one." The Justiciar sneers, "A weakling, in every sense of the word. We doubt he was even part of the company, it is more likely he was either a servant or a slave."
"Still -"
"He is mute, Inquisitor." She stops outside a cell, pauses to look up at Lamaenor, "And even if he were not, he seems unable to recall anything of import. But you know, as well as I, that servants hear far more than they think they do."
Lamaenor is looking into the cell, his smile small and amused. He nods, “I understand.”
The Justiciar opens the cell with a press of her hand, untying the locking enchantments without a word, “You have full rights, Inquisitor. Do what you must.”
When a small streak of light falls into the cell, onto the small, shivering form in the cell, Raakion pulls a soft, unnoticed breath.
As if stumbling upon a Stormcloak camp filled with commander-tier soldiers on guard wasn't enough.
There had to be a Thalmor attack.
It has been days since the camp was seized and every soldier not killed in the process - along with the Dunmer - brought into custody to be interrogated. Aamos hadn't heard much but from what he could gather, there was a lot of sensitive information in the play. He knows enough of these things to know that it wouldn't make his situation any better - it would make everything much worse.
Aamos himself had been interrogated again and again, by the present moment he has forgotten how many times exactly, the officers mostly getting annoyed at his handicap when he got too weak to lift the pen to write. They certainly didn't save the whip on him.
The cell door opens and he inhales sharply when the bright light hits his face. He has no idea how much time has passed since he was last... visited. He's cold, oh so cold and weak from hunger but he manages to find the strength to lift his head to look up. There's an old mer, Aamos can't make out his facial features against the backlight but for some reason he feels frightened. Oh, but there's another person behind him... Aamos looks, and a lump forms in his dry throat.
That certainly can't be Seron, can it?
The Dunmer beams. It has been a long time since he’s made anyone happy and the Altmer’s response to receiving the wreaths makes his smile even bigger. Aamos nods enthusiastically and just gives the other a third wreath.
Making them only cost him his time, after all, and coins shouldn't be a part of making someone happy.
Kade pursed his lips in a smile, though his brows creased ever so slightly in worry. Why wasn’t the other saying anything? The thought that the mer was secretly —or not so secretly if he felt he was too good to talk — looking down on him made his stomach hurt a little. But the Dunmer wasn’t being unfriendly otherwise! How confusing… Maybe he couldn’t speak?
Nevertheless the Altmer broke out into a smile once more and accepted the third crown, wasting no time to place it snug on his head. The perfect fit! With a giggle he placed a hand over his mouth and hunched his shoulders out of sheepishness. “Th-Thank you! Oh, you’re very kind! What a nice thing to do for Heart’s Day…” His gaze swept over the impressive amount of crowns before glancing back up at the other. Ah, he had Thavrin’s eyes. So lovely! “Did you make these all yourself?”
Aamos can't believe how happy this is making him. When the other mer asks about the wreaths, he happily nods, his posture straightening just the slightest in pride. He is not skilled in many things at all, but flower crowns - those he can make.
He then seems to remember something and puts down the wreaths from his lap, then shuffles through his pockets for a bunch of previously written notes. He gives one to the Altmer, again with a smile. His cheeks aren't used to smiling so much so it's straining but he can't really help it. The note reads,
'Please tell about these wreaths to your friends, too! I have made a lot and it would make me the happiest to see them all go! Happy Heart's Day!'
Aamos can’t help grimacing when the overwhelming stench of alcohol fills his unaccustomed nostrils and he tries to lean back, with little success.
He manages to shrug at the comment and wiggle a hand in between them, pointing at his throat and shaking his head. If he understands he understands, but Aamos doesn’t count on it.
The question is almost ridiculous, although the Dunmer suspects it has plenty to do with the inebriated state of the cat. However, at the moment he is more confused than scared and he firmly shakes his head.
He didn’t seem to notice the Dunmer attempting to get a little space between them, too busy sniffing and investigating their hair at the moment, but he did jump a little once the squirming started. The Khajiit drew back a little, cocking his head at the gesturing directed towards the mer’s throat. He observed blankly for a few moments, gentle confusion on his face without comprehension. However, it seemed to finally occur to him that he was still embracing the poor stranger, letting them go with a touch of reluctance. The warmth was nice, but maybe giving the stranger free use of their hands would enlighten him further as to why they weren’t just speaking to him.
…oh.
"C’n y’not talk at all, or d’you not know…Cy…Cyrodi-….?" J’hasi huffed, finally getting a little frustrated with his sluggishness of tongue, but left his sentence off there, hoping that the stranger understood what he meant.
The loss of warmth is a little disappointing to Aamos as well but he is relieved to gave regained his personal space.
The Dunmer cannot help but smile at the Khajiit's attempt of forming a coherent sentence. He briefly opens his mouth, points at his throat again and shakes his head just like a moment ago.
Situations like these occur so often lately that Aamos wonders how in the Oblivion he can't remember to carry his notebook with him everywhere.
…DA-verse Terv, the tervaelf :I Rogue/archer, a Dalish dumbass with tiny feet.
minttu made me do it i am not to blame for becoming too invested in tHIS
((I SPENT TOO MUCH TIME ON IT... I'm sorry I'm not so sorry for reblogging this here but also here is another pic))
((Egrhgrggghhh sorry for not being here lately, a friend dragged me into the sinful pit of DA self-insert characters and it seems I am not going to get up from there for a while...
((So instead of Writing Replies™ I drew my fav lil shits in moe style--))
An absolutely awesome mod who never fails to brighten up the dash with everything they post! You have wonderfully creative characters, with jaw-dropping art that really brings them all to life! We all look forward to seeing what the future has in store for our sweet Aamos!
((Oh man oh man OH MANNN
that is such a joy to hear, thank you so much! I'm so happy someone somewhere thinks this well about me and my babes, and especially Ammy. Ghaaaaahhh I need to lie down ;_;))
((Reputation meme: absolutely precious muse and a mun who's always super-sweet and always makes my day with gorgeous art.))
Not Your Usual Prey [Aamos | Raujel]
The words are sharp but Aamos doesn’t seem offended - just a little sad. He takes the notebook back and writes, this time a little faster as he starts to recover from the fright.
'I've never had a voice. I apologise for this awkward way of having a conversation. I do have a couple of poultices you can have, if you want to.’
He hands the book back to the mer, wondering if he should have just stayed quiet— still and let the other take his weapons and leave without trying to talk to him. The bearded stranger seems rather annoyed and the Dunmer can’t really blame him.
He doesn’t take the book this time, simply peers at what’s written and snorts. “Don’t take this the wrong way, squirt, but you look like you’ll need those poultices more than I do. There ain’t always gonna be trees to climb.”
How the mer is still alive at all is baffling in its own right, if he can’t fend off a skeever or two. Poor sod’s probably confined to settlements and the most well-travelled of roads. Ugh. What a life.
“Anyway,”He pulls his javelin free, and heads on over to the second felled skeever to retrieve his axe. “It’s safe to come down. I ain’t gonna bite.”
Squirt. Aamos can't recall the last time he was called that and despite the circumstances, it sounds oddly affectionate. Which can't be the case, Aamos has to remind himself. Sitting high up in a tree is not one of the best places to fall into reminiscence anyway.
He smiles lopsidedly at the mer and nods, it is indeed good to know that he won't get bitten. About that whole coming down thing, though... The Dunmer shifts closer to the tree trunk while looking at the ground between his dangling feet.
He is a little too high to be comfortable with jumping down, and the more he stares at the ground the more nervous he gets. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Aamos carefully lowers his torso onto the branch, wrapping his arms around it and slowly nudging his butt towards the edge. He must be a terribly sad sight but he doesn't care and squeezes the branch with all his strength before pushing his lower body over the edge. He shuts his eyes tight, hopes his arms will hold and before he even notices his body is slung down, the tips of his toes touching the grass under him.
With shaky arms he pries his hold off the branch and drops down, standing still to give his legs time to stop trembling.
The inn is not far away, Falkreath is not a big village, after all. Aamos glances at Dagon once in a while as they walk. He seems sweet but timid and the blond mer smiles a little, wondering that perhaps that is why he hadn’t bumped into him before.
They get to the Dead Man’s Drink (a dreadful name, Aamos thinks) and he pushes the door open. They find a table for themselves and Aamos writes again, showing the note to the other.
'What would you like to have? You can sit here while I get it.'
Dagon hadn’t said a word since they had started off towards the inn, mostly because he wasn’t sure what to say or even how to say it. He twists a strand of his red hair around and around his finger and glances at Aamos out of the corner of his eye every once and awhile, to try and get a better look at him. He seems nice, at least, that’s what Dagon could make out so far. He did, after all, offer to buy him drinks even though Dagon was the one that bumped into him…
He pulls up a chair, as they pick a table, and sits down a little awkwardly and then reads the note that Aamos had written. ”Oh! Um… s-some, uh, cheap wine w-would b-b-be fine. …Thank you,” He made sure to add that quickly after, not wanting to be rude.
Aamos smiles at the other Dunmer and nods. He feels strange for being the responsible one but it's not a bad kind of strange.
He goes to the counter and writes his order down for the innkeeper to read. The said man glances at the note and without batting an eyelid brings a bottle of unlabeled wine. Aamos nods his thanks to the man and gives him the payment before returning to the table with the beverage and two tankards. It's not anything fancy but then again, neither is the inn.
Good Neighbours [Aamos/Elatos/Val]
Having gotten used to his own tiny cottage, Elatos and Val’s place seems even more homey than he would have thought. The difference between the two houses is vast, otherwise. This one actually looks like someone could live here. The furs give cozy softness to the room and suddenly Aamos realises how tired he is. Before he can dwell on it, Elatos talks to him.
My notebook? Oh. Bafflement in his gaze, Aamos looks at the attentive mer and gives him a nod and a smile. That would indeed make things easier for all of them.
He steps towards the centre of the room and turns to regard Val while rubbing the rest of the wetness from his eyes with his sleeve. The man is putting the firewood away, looking even larger than before in the small space. It probably requires plenty of caution to not bump into door frames and such when you’re as tall as a Dremora, Aamos thinks and lets out an amused sigh, suddenly the image of Val accidentally hitting his head every time he walks into a house in his mind.
Relief of finally being in a safe place can do weird things to people’s heads and Aamos isn’t an exception.
"… Is something the matter?"
Val, noticing that he’s being watched as he takes off his heavy furs and hangs them up, looks back at Aamos with raised eyebrows. It’s not a threat, nor even a thinly-veiled suggestion that Aamos ought to stop staring, rather a genuine, sincere question. If Val had wanted Aamos to stop staring, he would have said so.
"Here we are." Before the question has time to linger in the air, though, Elatos returns with some paper and something for Aamos to write with. "That’s better, isn’t it. Have we got a fire going yet, Val?"
"Yes, yes. And some stew shortly, as well."
"Ah, that’s what we like. Now then, Aamos." With another broad, warm smile, Elatos gestures towards the table, offering Aamos a place to sit. "How have you been? I should think we’ve got some catching up to do, haven’t we."
Aamos is about to shake his head as an answer when Elatos returns with the papers and a cloth-wrapped piece of graphite.
The mention of stew almost makes his stomach growl again and he nods at Elatos, returning the heartwarming smile. They indeed have. Aamos walks to the table and sits down, almost immediately starting to write. His brows slightly furrow in concentration, his thoughts being a little scrambled after tonight's adventure.
'I can't tell you how happy I am to see you again, you and Val both! I owe you my thanks and more, especially Val.
It has been so long. I'm so sorry for not writing to you, I fell ill a few months back and got well enough to walk around only four weeks ago. Bonebreak fever, better keep away from that.
Other than that, I have my own cabin now. It's not much, just a small drafty room and a tiny garden to grow vegetables in. I guess it's on the opposite side of Falkreath from your home, since I haven't stumbled upon you before.
How have you been, well I hope? Any adventures?'
He hands the paper to Elatos, smiling a little nervously. He hasn't written this much in a long while and it feels a bit embarrassing - despite writing a lot his whole life, he is not particularly good at expressing himself through written words. It could have something to do with the small number of people who actually have wanted to know what he has to say.
aamos replied to your post “Heart’s Day! ☺”
Too startled (and a bit scared), Aamos can’t but stand there as the furry stranger latches onto him. It’s… not entirely unpleasant but the Dunmer has no idea what to do. He blushes slightly at the slurred words anyway. ((HAHA AHGDHS J’HASIIIIII))
J’hasi hummed, briefly rubbing the stranger’s cheek with his own before pulling back far enough to see the mer’s expression. He hiccuped before his head cocked a little to the side.
"Yyyyyer shorta quiet." he mumbled drunkenly before his ears pricked and his eyes widened a little. The Khajiit leaned forward, almost going crosseyed as he stopped with his nose just barely in front of the mer’s own, unfortunately giving them more than a good whiff of the spirits on his breath.
"I didn’ shhhcare ya, did I?" he said in a loud whisper, as if he was trying to keep the whole forest from hearing him while being completely unaware that his volume was only a touch quieter than his muttering.
Aamos can't help grimacing when the overwhelming stench of alcohol fills his unaccustomed nostrils and he tries to lean back, with little success.
He manages to shrug at the comment and wiggle a hand in between them, pointing at his throat and shaking his head. If he understands he understands, but Aamos doesn't count on it.
The question is almost ridiculous, although the Dunmer suspects it has plenty to do with the inebriated state of the cat. However, at the moment he is more confused than scared and he firmly shakes his head.
What's my reputation? What do you think when you see my URL?
((Come on Val, look how happy Elatos is
and Aamos made that one just for you))