angelic-baby18-deactivated20230:

kissing his thighs while jerking him off to watch him arch his back and moan like a slut 🥺😵‍💫🥵😳💗

warchiefwindrunner:

“i’m looking respectfully” well i’m looking carnally. i’m looking like a whore

quietlotus:

Quiet Lotus Heart Seeds

pathologising:

This blog is my house so plase be respactful

dawnera:

lvsckgrlss:

:

oh to be evil together

happyheidi:

(via)

starandagun:

A Shepard-Vakarian March 15th

Naturally, the Hierarchy has their own version of the ides of March.

(Because I have a headcanon that the humans and turians have very similar versions of the Ides of March and I am a history nerd.)

‐—————–

That’s it?”  Disappointment colored Garrus’s words.  He looked for all the world as if somebody had kicked his pet varren, mandibles drooping comedically.  Rania would have found it quite funny had she not been shocked.

“What do you mean that’s it?!”  She spluttered.  “Twenty-three times is rather excessive!”

“It’s tame.”  Castis rumbled.  Garrus crossed his arms, nodding in agreement with his father.  “Really, you honor a man who died from only twenty-three stab wounds.”

“And it’s only one day.”  Garrus pointed out. 

“Clearly you’ve done the right thing by bonding with her, Garrus.”  Castis decreed.  “You will both come to Palaven during Martae and she can experience a proper celebration of a proper assassination.”  His subvocals thrummed with amusement as Rania fixed him with a glare.

“I am not eating intestines.” 

“Fine, you can wear them.”  Garrus deemed.  “If they get tossed at you-it’s supposed to be a year’s worth of luck if they land on you.” 

“I am not wearing them!”  Turian mating and bonding rituals, Rania was glad to engage in.  Family rites?  No problem.  Social events?  Getting a little better, but it depended on the social event.  Same for holidays.  In this case, the turian holiday of Ida Luci.  A week-long festival that fell during the turian equivalent of March 15th, Ida Luci celebrated the fall of one of the last turian imperialis rulers—or rather his removal.  Cipritine had been his capital, and during the coup had caught fire and burned for a week.  Urban (or technically ancient?) legend held that his former subjects had celebrated as the city had burned—after killing him with extreme prejudice.

Naturally, Ida Luci was an official state-sponsored celebration of the Hierarchy.  A weeklong celebration of food, parties, games, and partial workdays.  Dramatic reenactments of the assassination and the events leading up to it were popular as theatrical plays and media-shows.  In a more recent development in the past few years, the turians had adopted the practice of making pinatas—and it was now common to see cardboard and paper-mache versions of the unfortunate imperialis ruler being destroyed by both children and adults for the goodies that had been hidden inside. 

“This is not a request, Rania, it is an order from your father-in-law.”  Castis was not above abusing his rank as the Vakarian family head for-in this case, his own personal amusement.  And turian pride, of course.  On this, Castis was certain Garrus would also agree. 

“If anything, you can wear your people’s clothing—it will not be too out of place.”  The human clothing of ancient Rome and Greece also bore some resemblance to ancient turian wear.  Castis watched as Rania groaned, closing her eyes and gently resting her forehead on the desk.

“Do I even have a say in this?”  She asked, her words muffled.

“No.”  Garrus and Castis said in unison.