seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from Ukraine
seen from India
seen from Algeria
seen from Türkiye
seen from Netherlands
seen from Algeria
seen from Türkiye
seen from Australia
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seen from Türkiye
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seen from United States
seen from China
I wish I could erase or forget the feeling the dream gave me about you, but I can't. I hate it. I would be okay if you apologized and owned up to the bullshit you did towards me. I wonder how long I can be quiet? How long do I have sex with you and act like everything is okay? Because it's not okay. I'm bothered at the fact, I'm just around for connivence. Or I'm just around because you'r bored😓.
HC#2 The Isle of the Blessed was not so long ago an island thriving with life and magic. It had places for Priests and Priestesses and others to live, a temple, forests, orchards, fields. It was beautiful and the shadow of it that we see on the show is nothing compared to what it was, what it could be again. Nimueh misses it, she used to climb the trees and lay around in the sun when she didn't have lessons or other work to do.
This is gorgeous. You’re killing me.
This headcanon is legitimate.
(And I’m wildly inspired to create some accommodating art of young Nimueh in a tree.)
Spellcasting Far Back
@notatpeace
It was a late night with Rowena’s spellbooks open and surrounding her. Her dark hair was frayed out of its carefully pinned plance and her wand was in hand, twisting and flicking to weave this spell and that spell.
“Perhaps I could talk to one of the ancient wizards or witches to help me figure out this spell.”
Her candles burnt low and Rowena massaged her temples. She’d been blessed with progressive parents that ensured her education in more than simply letters and embroidery. But oh how she wished for some sort of school so that other witches and wizards could learn as well. Away from the prosecution she had heard about.
She picked up her wand and swished, flicking it with her intention of speaking with an ancient wizard or witch. Faint popping sounds greeted her and Rowena barely had time to react when she was pulled through time and space, only to land in a set of chambers that were not familiar to her own.
“Hello?”
It was Uther’s idea that if both his children were going to move away to attend the same college, they live together. It was the only condition he set for them and in return they’d get a beautiful penthouse walking distance from campus. They needed to look out for each other. That’s what Uther said.
Morgana and Arthur argued about it for a few months before actually moving away but they came to the conclusion that if Uther was getting them a penthouse, it’d be big enough so that they wouldn’t run into each other. Morgana’s bedroom in one wing, Arthur’s in the other. They’d each have their own space while still being in close proximity to one another.
It was the beginning of their second year of college now. They both had made their separate groups of friends, and some friends in common and they were doing pretty well in the whole rooming together department, minus a few arguments but flatmates always have arguments.
It was a littler after six in the evening when Arthur showed up, sweaty and gross from rugby practice. He tossed his gym bag on the floor and took off his sweaty shirt, tossing it over a chair in the living room before making his way to the kitchen in hopes Morgana had made dinner.
ϟ
Art gave a very masculine yelp when he felt a hand grab at his arse. He’d just finished up his rounds for the morning. Once he righted himself up again, he turned to see it was--
“Well, if it isn’t Princess Charming?” he asked with a smile. “To what do I owe this handful?”
‘rough touch’
Send ‘rough touch’ and the generated outcome will be used for a small drabble scenario or starter { tw violence, possible noncon/dubcon implications, nsfw }
11. Your muse slams mine against a wall hard.
Gwen grunted at the force with which her back hit the brick wall, pushing the air from her lungs. Morgana had shoved her hard and pinned her with the entirety of her forearm across Gwen’s chest. The darker girl was grinning, though. “Now there’s the fireplug I know and love,” she commended Morgana, easily slipping from the hold and walking back around so she was in the open space of the room again. “All right, let’s try it again. See if you can pin me a second time.”
'Marry Me'
Put ‘MARRY ME’ in my ask and see how my muse responds.
Gwen blinked, taken aback, then arched an eyebrow, smirking a little. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not, Morgana,” she said. “Dunno if I ought to give you an answer or not.”
