sure. blame the guy who’s a huge idiot who causes a lot of problems, again
AnasAbdin
Cosmic Funnies
d e v o n

No title available
Acquired Stardust
almost home
RMH
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Peter Solarz
🪼
DEAR READER

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
ojovivo
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
art blog(derogatory)

roma★
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
dirt enthusiast
No title available

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Türkiye

seen from United States

seen from Spain

seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Indonesia
seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from South Korea

seen from Türkiye
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Pakistan

seen from Malaysia
seen from Paraguay
seen from Türkiye
@allmouth
sure. blame the guy who’s a huge idiot who causes a lot of problems, again
You laugh like a little girl, and inside you think like a martyr.
The Brothers Karamazov, Fyodor Dostoevsky (via saberwood)
Keanu Reeves in Point Break (1991) dir. Kathryn Bigelow
danny wishes that he’d been able to meet with the prince under better circumstances; that he may have been able to attend one of the afterfeathers he’d been invited to for the past few years. but he knows the prince has understood, has tried hard to help. “knock knock.“ announces his presence, looks hesitant in the presence of royalty, and of that human who acts like he knows him all the time. “jus’ wanted t’ check in. i - i’m sahry this happened, ya highness. i sweah-ri’m gonna make it right.”
❝ ——— commander shepard. ❞
Livithia perks up at the sight, sits up a little straighter, ruffles his tail feathers in a show of joy. What an honor! What an overdue blessing! ( He only laments that he cannot welcome the man more properly, in true alula fashion, with feasts and festivities and gifts! although, he suspects that the Commander would not care for the display either way. A pity. )
❝ You must allow me to apologize. I am a rather poor sight at the moment. ❞
Airyana presses into his shoulder, hiding his bare face from their unexpected guest, and Livithia cups the back of his head, smooths his hair and head feathers affectionately.
❝ Forgive my son, as well. Among our people, we show our true faces only to our flock ——— our family. He does not mean to be impolite. You simply caught him unawares. Why don’t you go sit with Hunter for a while, my boy, hm? ❞
Airyana obediently rises, careful to keep his face obscured as he moves to take a seat beside Hunter, presses into his shoulder now.
❝ Both of our masks were lost during the fighting, and I supposed that my own was not worth the effort of replacing. I apologize if my appearance frightens you. Humans have seemed to be the most “put-off” by my eyes. ❞
He offers a smile that he hopes is reassuring.
Just wanted to check in. I’m sorry this happened, Your Highness. I swear I’m gonna make it right.
A sadness blooms beneath Livithia’s breast at the knowledge that the Commander blames himself, believes himself to be the only one tasked with carrying this burden. ( He looks exhausted, looks like he’s been crying, and Livithia only now remembers that Commander Shepard hasn’t gone out of his way to the hospital to visit him. )
❝ ——— ah. I suppose that I have been impolite, as well. My apologies. Your teammate — how do they fare? ❞
Airyana shifts beside him, rustles the cushioned fabric atop the chair seat to circle arms ‘round Hunter’s neck, tucks his second arms into his chest, curls up into something comfortable so that he might attempt to sleep. ( Livithia forgets how young Airyana truly is, how much this war and loss have affected him, affected everyone. Even the grand, immortal Commander Shepard is tired. )
❝ Do you have children, Commander Shepard? Do they fare well? I would never presume to understand the pressure that comes with being hailed as the “Savior of the Galaxy”, but I hope that you do not lose sight of yourself. None of this is your fault, and it is not solely up to you to rectify it. Take care of yourself, Commander. Do not allow this war — or the Reapers — to take more than they have. ❞
for the first time since their arrival, liv and hunter are alone; airyana only now just leaving to take a walk (get an autograph from commander shepard for me! he’d joked). now, hunter crawls into the hospital bed beside liv, curls up as close to him as possible. he strokes his feathers, carefully, and after a long silence, hesitantly speaks up. “i... feel like i should rejoin the war effort,” he says, with an almost uncharacteristic seriousness. “i know i won’t make much difference, but...”
livithia has only had two thoughts since arriving upon the Citadel, broken and burned, clutching his terrified son to his chest: he failed, and Commander Shepard was right ( — not that he never believed him at all, like most people. As a matter of fact, Livithia has been one of Commander Shepard’s most outspoken supporters, and has worked tirelessly since the man’s “death” two years ago to gather resources, supplies, knowledge on how to fight a war without the only man who saw it coming ——— and, he understands now that it could never have been enough. )
He wishes that the knowledge could be a comfort, but the only thing that he can see are the dead bodies of his parents, his children, his people, the ruins of his planet. ( There are other alula who were off-world at the time of the attack, he knows. He has seen one or two here, on the Citadel, a doctor and a merchant who could scarcely believe that their prince had made it here in almost one piece, and he has children who were off-world as well — including the only of his children who was not an alula, an asari named Lyvea. Regardless, he cannot shake his feeling of loss, utter hopelessness. There is nothing left of Croone, and the dead cannot be brought back. )
Airyana was so adamant that he receive medical treatment once they arrived, but he refused ——— until he collapsed in the marketplace, shortly after purchasing a replacement mask for his son who couldn’t bear to abandon the alula tradition of only showing your face to family. ( Livithia can no longer bring himself to care, doesn’t mind the stares and murmurs from other aliens. ) When he awoke, with Airyana pressed into his shoulder, gently weeping, Hunter holding his hand and his talon, the true extent of his injuries finally occurred to him. He could feel his wings bandaged and wrapped behind him, could tell that they had been broken, could see bandages around his chest and legs and feet, could feel the cannula in his nose. ( At least he couldn’t feel any pain, but he attributed that to the IVs in his arm. )
His son and his love both looked so miserable, so disheveled, and it broke Livithia’s heart to be the cause of it. He allowed Airyana to remain for a while, stroked the boy’s face, even preened his feathers a bit, before gently suggesting that the boy go get something to eat, get some air, get out of this stuffy hospital room, hm? We were never meant to be so cooped up, my boy.
The boy protested, because of course he did, because he is Livithia’s son and he has always been so strong-willed and stubborn-headed ——— but, eventually, he relented, because he is intelligent as well and more than likely understood that his father wished for a few moments alone with Hunter.
Get an autograph from Commander Shepard for me!
❝ Commander Shepard is here? at the hospital? ❞
Someone on his team got hurt, Airyana offers, with a touch of that boyish rebellion in his voice and arms folded across his chest. ( He truly does not wish to leave. )
❝ ——— ah. I see. Offer him my condolences, but do not trouble him too much, son. Although, I would like to speak with him whenever he is available. ❞
With a nod, Airyana finally departs, and Hunter wastes no time in crawling into his bed, curling into his side, gently stroking ( what remains of ) his feathers. Livithia pillows his cheek atop Hunter’s head, embraces him with as many arms as he is free to move, closes his eyes to relish this moment as much as possible / to pretend that he is back home in his nest and not confined to this dreadfully uncomfortable bed. Tears threaten from behind his lids, but to cry now feels selfish, so he swallows them down.
I feel like I should rejoin the war effort.
Livithia wishes more than anything that this were another joke that he could laugh at, reply with Wouldn’t that require doing real work?, but he can tell by the way that Hunter’s voice softens, falls heavy onto his chest, that he means it, and it’s more than Livithia can stand.
I know I won’t make much difference, but …
❝ ——— enough. ❞
Livithia sounds more like a father than a worried lover, but it’s the only way that he can hope to maintain any semblance of control over himself. His arms tighten around Hunter, and he presses a lingering kiss to the top of the man’s head.
❝ You are more capable than you have ever given yourself credit for, my love. Should you wish to fight, you have my undying support, and my firm belief that your contribution will be anything but small. However, ❞ here, he falters a bit, swallows past the growing lump in his throat, ❝ if you are only doing this because you feel as though you have something to prove … then, I would rather you did not. There are other ways to assist that will not put you in danger. I cannot bear to lose anyone else. ❞
then, lightheartedly, with a smile on his face and in his voice,
❝ Besides, Airyana has been holding on to your identification tags since I was admitted — and, between you and me, I do not believe that he would let them go easily. I have seen him toying with them when he thought me otherwise disposed — and, since you couldn’t possibly rejoin without those … ❞
dreamseat / pretty human!
“ ———————— OH, WOAH. ”
he said it once when he was first apprehended by these bird alien guards, and now, forced to his knees in front of his target, bird alien royalty, he says it again, in absolute awe of the beings he’s seeing before him.
truth be told, he had zero idea going into this contract what he’d be up against. he knew the alula … well, existed. he knew croone existed, knew vaguely what the alula looked like because he knows all about the annual afterfeather ( it’s hard not to, when the tabloids eat up the fact that the esteemed commander shepard is too busy to attend despite invite after invite: sure, the guy is busy, but can he really hate parties as much as he says he does, too ? ).
perhaps it’s in his favor that the humans don’t pop up on croone as much, because hunter has to wager that death would have popped up on his agenda much sooner otherwise. he’d have gotten exactly what was coming to him, at any rate. he didn’t even have a clue what more to expect, going in ; had no idea what their security was like, how hostile they were toward intruders, how he was going to sneak in —— his best plan was to stroll right through the front door and wing it. that’s how he does … practically everything.
but, now, here he is: forced to his knees in front of royalty, with nothing left to defend himself but his own tongue. here he is, staring in the face of at least four dozen eyes, roughly, more than one pair of arms and the most beautiful feathered frame he has ever seen, and maybe he’s a little starstruck, and maybe he’s prepared to rip up that contract and turn around and go home, if he can’t sit on this dude’s lap.
have you ever seen an alula ? what were you told of us —— of me ?
“ u - uh, not up close, ” he answers, tries hard not to stumble over his words like this is the first time he’s ever had a crush ; but he’s so distracted by the finger and talon on his chin, and how close their faces are, and he has the most prime view of this guy’s face, even if most of it is covered by an ornate mask. he gets the most prime view of the way his feathers shake open, of the way everyone else in the room seems the gasp and bow, and hunter has no clue how rare of a sight this is but he certainly knows there must be some importance to it.
that makes it all the more captivating.
“ to be honest, i, uh … didn’t really do my homework before swinging by. ” he attempts a weak, nervous chuckle. “ yanno, i only hear rumors, and i know about that big shindig you guys throw: yanno, the one i somehow don’t get invited to. ” oh, he hopes the joke sticks. “ so i just figured i’d wing it — haha, get it ? wing it, because, uh … i don’t usually do the whole ‘ killing ’ thing — i was just cleaning some asari’s apartment five days ago — but, apparently they couldn’t get anyone else to do it, so. everyone else probably had somethin’ penciled in that day. you get it. ”
if he’s rambling, it’s only because he’s still a little bit starstruck, and he very much wants to stay alive.
“ i mean, i’d love to not die today. if i gotta cancel out of this active contract right now i gotta pick up another errand fast. a dude’s gotta eat ‘n pay rent, yanno. also, if i am the one leaving here alive, does that mean someone else is gonna get the chop ? just wondering, uh, ‘cause that’s kinda how it sounded. ”
just because the alula are not a warmongering people does not mean that they are a peaceful one. It is how they have ensured their survival, amongst countless enemies that would stop at nothing to wipe all of them out if it meant acquiring their resources, their wealth, their influence across the galaxy. ( The alula are, above all, intelligent. It is why they have been so successful in all of their endeavors ——— and, it is why they are still alive to boast about them. )
All of that aside, Tailfeather rather resents being perceived as “hostile”. Since its foundation, the leaders of Croone have worked tirelessly to ensure that the planet is one of prosperity, acceptance, and a simplified style of living that no other race has achieved since life first sparked across the cosmos. ( It’s difficult to walk on Croone without tripping over an opulent artwork, an alula drunk on aromabis, couples and threesomes — and, sometimes, even more than that — making love in the streets. The alula value hard work, ambition, entrepreneurship above all else — but, they also value knowing when and how to unwind. )
— and, none of this is to say that there are no internal conflicts amongst the alula: claims of intellectual and artistic theft, relationship disputes ( because, while the alula are free and open with affection, they mate singularly and for life ) ——— all of which are settled with leks, violent battles that take place within Croone’s grand Coliseum.
To be honest, I didn’t really do my homework before swinging by. I only hear rumors, and I know about that big shindig you guys throw: y’know, the one I somehow don’t get invited to. I just figured I’d wing it — haha, get it?
The human’s joke ruffles some feathers amongst their company — including those of Tailfeather’s own son, one of the human’s captors who twists the man’s arm into a more severe angle as punishment — but, Tailfeather finds it funny. He even laughs, gently, proffers a smile that shines beneath his mask.
❝ ——— the Afterfeather? Ah, yes. Your Commander is the only human who has ever been invited, and he never accepts. Perhaps it has soured my people’s perception of your species. ❞
He’s only teasing, although there are some who sincerely have taken offense. Tailfeather simply shrugs them off. The Commander has done far too much for all of them for Tailfeather to take his rejection to heart.
❝ Perhaps, next year, I will send his invitation to you, instead ——— although, I will need to know your name, and you will need to survive this encounter. ❞
I don’t usually do the whole ‘killing’ thing — I was just cleaning some asari’s apartment five days ago — but, apparently they couldn’t get anyone else to do it, so. Everyone else probably had somethin’ penciled in that day. You get it.
❝ You are beholden to no one, then, and go only where credits take you ——— a mercenary. ❞
A fool, his son chimes in, which prompts Tailfeather to release the human, raises his hands in a gesture to silence his son.
❝ Peace, Darkwing. I do not believe the human intends any harm. Release him. ❞
The second guard obeys without hesitation, but Darkwing’s talons are reluctant to loose their hold — only for a moment, because he is ill inclined to disobey a direct order from his prince father. Once the man is freed, Tailfeather offers a hand and a talon to help him to his feet, waves over a servant holding a platter of fresh fruit, plucks a small, dark berry from the mix and gently presses it to the human’s lips — a peace offering, a suggestive invitation.
❝ Berry? It will not harm you, I promise. These are one of our greatest exports, and I have it on good authority that your people, in particular, are quite fond of them. ❞ Tailfeather takes one for himself, waves away the servant, links two arms through one of the human’s own and begins to usher him out of the throne room. ❝ Carry on, everyone. I wish to speak to our guest in private. ❞
Tailfeather leads him down several halls, awash with grand decoration and bustling with activity and merriment, until eventually arriving at a large “bed”room — except, there is no bed, only a nest tucked into a corner, topped with stray plumage and pillows and downy coverings.
❝ You said that you do not kill people, ❞ he states as he lies himself down, pats the space beside him in a wordless invitation for the human to join him. ❝ Why, then, would you accept a contract to do so? Why did you not simply take the money and run? Perhaps you haven’t received any yet. Why did you come here, if you weren’t going to kill me? to warn me? How very noble of you, mercenary. ❞
Tailfeather places a hand on the human’s chest, tucks his mask beneath the man’s jaw, lines his throat with sweet, soft kisses.
❝ — and, before you tell me that you really were going to kill me all along, no mercenary of any clout would have allowed himself to be captured so easily. Shall we instead do something a bit more — worthwhile? ❞
With another hand, he removes his mask, pulls away to allow the man a good look at his face.
❝ ——— and, we shall see where your loyalties truly lie. ❞
❝ look at us: having coffee while my husband and children are away. How improper. ❞
Still, she wears a sad smile as she saunters up to Benji, places a steaming cup of coffee in front of him before sitting beside him with a cup of her own. ( What’s “improper” is the way that she’s chosen to prepare her coffee in a mug that reads “Best Mom Ever”, which she only just received less than a week ago for Mother’s Day. She wonders if her children would still think so highly of her if they knew about Benji. )
❝ It’s good to see you, ❞ she says after a bit of silence, murmurs softly into the space between them. To say that this is the first time in a long while that she’s spoken so softly to anyone or felt so full in anyone’s presence would be a lie, but she cannot deny that seeing Benji makes her feel fifteen again — a doe-eyed young woman in love with her older brother’s best friend. ❝ How long has it been? Twenty years? and, you’re still just as handsome as when we were children. It’s criminal. ❞
Shame bubbles up in her stomach for even entertaining the thought, but it’s all that she can do to swallow the desire to reach out and trail the edge of his salt-and-pepper jawline, smooth his hair away from his forehead, kiss him, just once, just to stop thinking about it! ( Ever since Daniel told her that Benji had reconnected with him, she’s been consumed by thoughts of him — and, ever since Daniel told her the truth of why Benji so suddenly disappeared from their lives, she’s been haunted by the knowledge that she wasn’t good enough for him. )
She isn’t a fool. She knows that it doesn’t matter anymore. She knows that Kaidan is the most wonderful man in the entire world, and that she’s blessed beyond imagining that he chose her over anyone else ( — and, she could never regret her children, the truest loves of her life. She just can’t help but wonder what her life might have been like with Benji, had he given them a chance. )
❝ I still think of you from time to time, you know; more so, ever since my brother told me you’d returned ——— and why you left. ❞ A slow sip of coffee, a sidelong glance at him through her periphery. ❝ Did he try to tell you not to contact me? He’s always understood how I feel about you. ❞
She doesn’t speak in a past tense. She doesn’t take it back.
❝ Make no mistake, I am very happily married. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for Kaidan or our children, and I have no intentions of betraying his trust or his love for me by doing anything illicit with you ——— although, foolish though it may be, I do still daydream of a life where I am with you, where you did not choose my brother over me. ❞
Another sip of coffee, a quiet laugh.
❝ You might have spared me the agony of my first marriage. I can only assume that you would not have hit me. ❞ @dreamseat!
❝ let me guess: another assassin. ❞
Tailfeather sits atop his throne, gilded and glittering, wings flitting lazily behind him as they’re preened by servants. He rests his weight atop an elbow, taloned arms folded at his waist, fourth arm fiddling with his hair and head feathers. It’s difficult to tell beneath his mask, but all fifty-four of his eyes are alight with amusement ( as they always are when ambition beyond ability brings aliens to his doorstep ) and his lips are curled in a smile.
Two of his most elite guards are forcing the would-be assassin to his knees before him, second set of arms pinning the human’s behind his back. ( A human! Tailfeather so rarely sees humans, cooped up in the daily operations of Croone as he is ——— and, especially considering that Commander Shepard consistently neglects his invitations to Croone’s Annual Afterfeather. )
Tailfeather is so enraptured, in fact, that he rises to his feet, shoos away his servants with a wave of his hands and an unfurling of his wings, approaches the human with a curious cant of his head.
❝ I must say, a human is a most welcome change of pace from all of the krogan and batarians that wind up scuffing my floors. Tell me, ❞
he murmurs, bends forward at the waist until the eyes of his mask are level with the humans, hooks a finger and a talon both beneath the human’s chin and gently, sweetly, raises his chin.
❝ have you ever seen an alula? What were you told of us ——— of me? ❞
Tailfeather coos low in his throat, alluring, lifts his tail and shakes his feathers open. The display is grand, exciting, eye-catching! The servants and guards gasp, frill their feathers, bow before the rare sight, the rare gift! ( Why bestow it upon a human ——— and a would-be assassin, at that? )
❝ Do you still believe that you will be the one to leave here alive? ❞ @dreamseat!
Jake: So, I can either bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes, or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute.
Amy: Jake nO THAT’S NOT HOW YOU BAKE COOKIES.
Jake: FLOOR IT?
Amy: JAKE NO
Jake: HOW ABOUT 4,000,000 DEGREES FOR 1 SECOND
Amy: JAKE YOU ARE GOING TO BURN OUR HOUSE DOWN
Jake: I’M GOING TO HARNESS THE POWER OF THE SUN TO MAKE COOKIES
Amy: JAKE P L E A S E
#soulmates