#amariahellcat

[kerra-and-company]

Idk if I'm late or not but sending this fuzzy boy I almost stole from my dad's ♥️♥️ he was a cuddly little thing. I hope you're doing ok!!

Even if you were late (which you're not, still sick over here unfortunately xP but doing a bit better today!) I would still gladly accept this fuzzy boy!!! He looks so FLUFFY and I love him <3 (and thank you a bunch <3 <3)

[mystery-salad]

🚓 🏝 🧸 for pair of your choice! :D

Oh this is a fun set, let's see.....how about Tvelle/Logan for this one! I forgot to give that duo any love in yesterday's questions!

🚓 | which one is most likely to get arrested

Tvelle, who actually does have a criminal record lmao! Juvenile record a mile long, then a few minor crimes along the lines of disturbing the peace and breaking some things she shouldn't as an adult. Logan has exasperatedly bailed her out of jail a handful of times.

🏝  | their ideal getaway

A nice beach vacation along with Tvelle's other partners, a nice long stretch of beach with room for Logan to relax with Tvelle, and for Logan to keep relaxing while she starts full out water wars with the others.

🧸 | which one is the little spoon & which is the big spoon

Logan is the big spoon purely out of size necessity. The two would be jetpacking otherwise lmao. It's fun but not as cozy!

[intern-seraph]

#9 for the prompts?

you have seen neither hide nor hair of fina yet but for context: this is post-hot and pre-s3. her story is in an au where there are 3 commanders and also trahearne lives. context over—

(yes i am addicted to trammander, what about it)

9. “I know for a fact that you’re not ‘fine’.”

“I’m going into town later today,” Fina calls from the other room. “Do you need anything?”

Trahearne nods, remembers she can’t see him, shouts, “I need a new pot of ink!”

She pops her head into his bedroom, her lips quirked in a tired smile. “Black?”

“Unless you’d like to mix it up?”

“Perhaps I can find some of that color-changing ink.” She steps fully into the room and sits down on the side of his bed. She watches him as he writes his current letter—a long and formal notice regarding the selection of a new Pact Marshal. He pauses and cranes his neck to look at her. There’s a familiar forlorn glint in her eye.

“That would be lovely. You don’t have to, though. The ink can always wait; I have enough to get through the day.”

“While I’d love to spend the whole day with you, I do need to go shopping sooner than later.”

“I know. I’d just like to spend time with you.”

The tips of her ears tint gold and she looks away. Her fingers curl into her skirt. “Y... eah.”

“Are you alright?”

Her ears fold and press back against her skull. Her shoulders hunch up and she presses her lips together. “I’m fine.”

He braces one palm on the desk and rises. She refuses to look him in the eye, but he can feel shame wafting off of her. “I know for a fact that you’re not ‘fine.’”

She flinches. He moves to sit beside her and sets one hand on the small of her back. Her muscles relax a fraction. “I’m fine, really,” she repeats, even as her voice trembles.

“Look at me, please.”

“I—”

“Please.”

At first, her movement is stiff, but slowly she turns to look at him. Her eyes, already bloodshot and puffy, brim with tears. Her lip quivers. “I’m sorry, I know I must look pretty pathetic,” she whispers.

“Nonsense.” He reaches up with his weaker arm and thumbs away her tears. She leans her cheek against his palm and covers his hand with hers. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid.”

“If it’s affecting you like this, it’s not stupid.”

“I-if you’re certain… alright.” She takes in one long, shaky breath. “I just… ever since we left Maguuma, I can’t stop thinking about, well, everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I kept failing at every turn. Naseera and Aviena, they’ve always been so amazing a-and so good at this job, but I’m— Trahearne, I’m just so useless. I’m supposed to be a leader, but I can’t do anything right.” He remains silent and holds her against his side. She sniffles, then continues, “Even before Mordremoth, I couldn’t manage to do one thing right. You should have demoted me as soon as you heard about what happened with the plato—”

“That was not your fault. Demoting you would be doing exactly what the enemy wanted.”

“But it would have been the right choice! No matter what I do, people die because of me! I’m useless as a Commander. You, Naseera, Avi, all of you would be better off without my butting in.”

“Stop it. You have always been a valued member of the Pact.”

“You nearly died! I nearly… I almost… I had Caladbolg, I was really willing to do it and I almost did!”

“Because I asked you to!” He doesn’t realize that he shouted until he sees the shock on her face. Trahearne takes a deep breath, then leans in to kiss her forehead. “But you didn’t do it. And I’m here, alive. Because of you.”

Fina presses her face into his chest and grips at the back of his shirt. “Is it okay if I don’t go shopping today?”

“Of course.” He pulls her in close and rubs circles between the small, gnarled growths of knotted bark on her shoulder blades. His thumb runs over one bump. She shudders and holds him with a stronger grip. “We can cuddle, if you’d like?”

“Mhm.”

They both fall back onto the bed and settle against each other. One of her legs curls up and her knee rests in the space where his own would have been. Her body thrums with a strange sort of heat that doesn’t seem entirely natural, but that’s alright.

“I think,” he says into her vines, “that we all left part of ourselves in the jungle. None of us are the same people that we were a year ago, dear.”

“I can’t just leave my mistakes behind me, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“I know. But dwelling in them does you no good. You have to forgive yourself.”

She puffs out a steady breath. Her forehead butts up against his chin. “I’ll think about it.”

[sylvari-bouquet]

❣️ 💚 for Nettle!

❣️— When do they first say I love you?

It’s been a while, but I think it happens first over a letter that Nettle sends to Nisienn, when ze’s heading off to Elona in the start of PoF? Since their relationship had began to grow after meeting in early lw3 times, but ze just couldn’t confess face to face, at least not until later.

💚— How do they make their partner feel better?

I think Nettle is best with words, giving encouragement and consoling Nisienn. Ze also brings small gifts whenever ze visits him.

[miragecounseling]

#6 for those prompts if you're taking them??? :>

ah sure!!!! ^^ i love how when i was reading through those that was the one that caught my eye the most haha

“Stop it! I can’t just forget what you said! Nothing is the same between us stop acting like it is! How am I just supposed to go back to acting like normal after last night?”

---

A sharp knock pulled Prima out of her thoughts. She’d been mindlessly tidying up her makeshift office in Lion’s Arch, trying to get accustomed to the never-ending noise outside her window. 

Rytlock suggested the temporary move so she’d be at the center of everyone else, making it easier for them to come visit her to discuss their next move... or to bring flowers and soup every week like Heidi. 

The person knocked again, a little harder this time.

‘Impatient,’ she thought, chuckling to herself, ‘Reminds me of a certain Syl-’

She opened the door and there he stood. His orange glow illuminated his face in the dark hallway and he couldn’t quite meet her gaze.

“Canach...” she said barely above a whisper. 

‘Was it to greet me or to check if she was dreaming,’ Canach wondered. 

“Uh, come in, please,” she said.

He mumbled his thanks and walked past her, taking note of just how little was in the room. Prima was big on practicality on the field, but at home she loved trinkets, mementos, fashion from every corner of Tyria but none of it was displayed here. 

“Commander-”

“Canach, please,” she wasn’t often stern, so the sudden change in tone from her previous awkward and nervous one took him by surprise. 

He cleared his through, “Prima. Rytlock asked me to deliver these to you.”

He placed a bundle of pages on a nearby table, unable to hand them to her directly. He thanked the Pale Mother for his inability to sweat like humans or norns, because he was sure he’d be sweating bullets if he could. 

“That’s all, it was a pleasure. I’ll be on my way now.” he made his way to the door but the blonde norn quickly stepped in front of him and placed a hand on his chest. 

“Stop it! I can’t just forget what you said! Nothing is the same between us stop acting like it is! How am I just supposed to go back to acting like normal after last night?” her lip quivered as she spoke. She took a deep breath in and steadied her breathing, refusing to cry before the conversation had even truly begun. 

“I wasn’t myself last night Co- Prima. I’d been drinking, my tongue was loose,” he tried to keep his face emotionless, terrified of letting her in on his true feelings.

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Canach. Look I know I... I’m not ideal, I’m not picturesque or exciting. But I don’t deserve to be treated like a monster. I mean this is the first time you’ve been able to look at me since last night!” she broke his gaze, her cheeks heating with each word she spoke. 

“You’re not a monster, you’re not... you don’t even understand...” Canach stumbled over his words.

“Then help me understand. Last night you told me you felt the same, now you look like you’d rather be back in the jungle, facing a pack of pocket raptors with nothing but Faren’s loincloth to your name.”

A small smile appeared on his mouth, it always amused him how she could be so serious and entertaining at the same time. 

“You’re my Commander, the leader, the visionary, the...,” he sighed, stopping himself from gushing, “I’m the convict, the criminal, the gambler. A good fighter only for those with enough coin. I know your sappy Snargle Goldclaw books like to teach that opposites attract and true love conquers all but I don’t think that applies to the Commander.” 

Prima knew she wasn’t winning this fight, so she dropped her arms to her side and walked around him. She picked up the papers he had put down and began reading through them. 

“Tell Rytlock thank you for me.” she said, not bothering to turn around to address him. 

Canach took an unsteady breath in. Part of him wanted to turn around, take her in his arms, and show her that he was wrong. That they could work and together they could face anything the world threw at them- rogue Gods and elder dragons be damned. But Canach couldn’t ask her to stoop down for him. She deserved her place atop the pedestal Tyria put her on- shiny, golden, and beautiful.

He watched her for a moment as he stood with the door open. 

‘Turn around, tell me not to go,’ he pleaded with her in his head.

‘Come back to me, promise you won’t go,’ she thought, tears falling onto the papers she held in front of her.

Quietly he shut the door behind him. His face remained dark in the hallway as he walked back into the city.

[ashalsdream]

ღ 💕💘💝 for pair of your choice? :>

Since I’m LOVING them right now, Aquilius & Aeris, Aeris belongs to @fellis-world

ღ: who is more likely to initiate hand-holding in public?

Aquilius. He will hold the boyfs hand as much as he can, he is a soft half-kitty

💕: who is more likely to make huge declarations of love in front of other people?

AQUILIUS. He’s very loud & likes the world to know that Aeris is his but on the other hand, is usually chill when people tell him to calm down

💘: who developed a crush on the other first?

Aquilius imprinted on Aeris if that counts? Sounds weird I know but Aquilius has charr blood! he’s quarter charr and he went all soft kitty when he first met Aeris and it was basically him going “oh, this is why I’ve never been in love. I was waiting for you” and then spent a while trying to think of an excuse to talk to Aeris. 

💝: who spends more time (possibly overthinking) what presents to get the other?

Hmm, Aeris. Aeris is a soft nervous bean who doesn’t quite know how to treat his lover but loves him anyway! 

Ask me about my ships! 

[resonatingfern]

#51 &/or #70 for the softest dorks?

Slightly suggestive, but what can I say?

“You’re warm.”

-

Eskel wasn’t one to sleep in.

There was often too much to be done in the morning, and if he disliked anything it was an unfinished task. Most days he was up before the sun, his boots pulled on and scarf — clumsily sewn by his daughter, but treasured nonetheless — tied around his neck. His footsteps could be traced and followed through the pasture and about the barn, following a pattern made by years of practice.

It was a surprise to Leilani, then, when she opened her eyes to the morning sun and found Eskel still beside her, his arms enfolding her and cradling her close to his chest. At first she thought he may still be sleeping, but when she looked up at his face it was alert, his eyes watching her with the familiar glow of affection behind them.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

His voice, deep enough that she felt the rumble of it in his chest, threatened to send her back to sleep. She blinked slowly, pulling herself to full consciousness.

“Good morning,” she replied, and adjusted her spot within Eskel’s arms, though there was little space left between them to breach.

“You’re still here,” she added, still trying to make sense of his presence. It was no complaint; Leilani would take any extra time in bed with Eskel that was given.

Eskel chuckled and gently brushed back a stray lock of Leilani’s fern-like hair. He let the strand fall between his thumb and forefinger, then tucked it behind her ear. Leilani could feel his other hand glide along her back, sending a deep shiver through her body.

“You’re warm,” he said, his hand furthering its roaming around her waist and down her stomach.

He brought his lips to her neck, kissing the pattern of her skin. He was warm, too, Leilani noticed. Like always, a radiating, full warmth that spread to her body and filled her with thoughts of home and belonging.

“Not as warm as you.”

Eskel paused and lifted his lips from Leilani’s neck long enough to look at her face. A smile played on his lips, matching the glimmer in his eyes as he took in the way the morning sun left patches of golden light on her cheeks.

“I think we can change that,” he said, and his hand began to move again, this time dipping below Leilani’s stomach. His fingertips grazed her thighs, his touch delicate and light as he steadily worked his way between her legs.

Leilani burrowed her face into Eskel’s chest, effectively muffling the sound that escaped her. The morning wore on around them, chores left undone in favor of a few more hours spent in bed.

[squigglysquidd]

Sunlight for the asks?

Gold is a rather rare color for a turian’s plates, right up there with deep reds or bleached bone white. Sure, there are plenty of sandstone turians, but they never quite get the luster to their plates that comes with the rare genetic - well, mutation. Without that luster of true gold, they don’t really stand out with in a crowd.

Not like the way Aeson does ....

Rumbling at the thought, Damocles watches his friend pull up the nets he’d set earlier before dawn had even brightened up the sky. He had nothing to do today, so he tagged along while Aeson tended to his fishing, the two simply shooting the shit and sharing in some alcohol.

He doesn’t notice Aeson’s proud thrum when he glances over and shows him a particularly large fish that’s sure to make a large sum of credits in the market. He’s too preoccupied with the way the sunlight dances across his friend’s plates, of how it makes them glisten.

Damocles knows telling Aeson he’s gorgeous will only embarrass his friend, having seen it plenty of times when strangers have complimented him. Aeson is modest, only proud in the small things that - usually - end up benefiting someone else. Tending to his friends, that’s what Aeson enjoys, not being told stupid things like how he looks when the sun hits his bare back as he turns from Damocles to pull up and check another net.

So Damocles stays silent, only grinning when Aeson brings up another successful catch and wrangles it into the small tank that holds his catches. Even if Aeson doubts his own visual appeal, Damocles knows he’ll be right there to give his friend a boost of self-confidence whenever it comes a time that his younger friend needs to preen himself in order to impress a date. It won’t take much because he knows, even now in a fisherman’s coveralls with some oil from the engine on his hands and arms, Aeson is a sight to see.

Damocles sits and considers that he really does like the color gold.