#Among Us Teal

[sciartherp]

Rodamrix AUA Characters as Human HCs

I’ve doodled Human designs for a few of the imps before, but I felt compelled to show off updated designs/HCs for.. just abt everyone. Will be using this picrew bc there’s so many ppl, and will only be doin main plot characters, but feel free to request other characters!! Part of my HC for Among Us is that all crew members are required to have a strip of hair dyed their suit color and wear articles of clothing associated with their color in order to more easily tell who’s who!

Will add a separator to ensure this post doesn’t take up ur entire dash LMAO

Starting off with Crewmates!

Yellow (Any Pronouns)

Blue (He/They)

White (He/Him)

Green (He/Him)

Lime (They/Them)

Brown (He/Him)

Tan (They/Them)

Dr. White (He/It)

Teal (She/Her)

And here are the Impostors!

Red (alternate) (He/Him)

Glitchy (main) (Any Pronouns)

Fortegreen/Olive (Any Pronouns)

Pink (Any Pronouns)

Purple (He/They/It)

Indigo (He/They/It)

Peepaw Dark Slate Blue (He/Him)

The Twins (Both He/They)

[amongdestiny-qu33n]

The guys don’t get enough love

HERE THE GUYS

[weheartstims]

Howdy to round off the Drawn Together cast can I request a Captain Hero from Drawn Together blue stimboard? Thank you so much

Captain Hero (Drawn Together) with various blue stims!

🔷|🔹|🔷 🔹|🔷|🔹 🔷|🔹|🔷

[peculiar-potato]

The Prequel “PREQ” Crew

(consequences series crew 1/4)

Lore dump about them under the cut :)

The first crew to embark on a series of missions led by space exploration company MIRA. They were named the “prequel” crew in hopes that their mission would be the start of something amazing. The group of ten highly-trained astronauts was sent to a faraway planet Polus to research and obtain a rare mineral that MIRA needed for a top-secret project. Unfortunately, something went very wrong very quickly, and they were forced to make an early return- with five members of their crew reported dead.

The crew’s return was met with significant delays on account of ship malfunctions, but upon their arrival over two years later than expected, one of the returning crewmembers reportedly wasn’t quite himself. MIRA attempted to study what was found to be an alien parasite who had infected one of the crewmembers, colloquially known as the “impostor”, but an unfortunate accident resulted in an explosion, killing the impostor and all but one of the crewmembers.

Records relating to this mission and the experiments afterwards are classified, but there is speculation that contact with this impostor may be connected to the later downfall of the CONQ crew.

The one remaining crewmember has been reassigned.

Next Crew ->

[amongus-orange]

Did you know there's an among us fighting game? I didn't know there's an among us fighting game

[ryescapades]

rin itoshi + nsfw + "don't act so shy now" please!!! thank you sm <3

→ EVENT OVERVIEW  

prompt: 11 - “don’t act so shy now,” characters: itoshi rin (bllk) x f!reader contents: nsfw mdni !! overstim, fingering, squirting, implied multiple orgasms, petname (baby), use of y/n once, teasing, lmk if there's more :') wc ~ 1k (not proofread!)

a/n: tysm for participating anon! wrote this as an expansion to this little brainrot i had yesterday

itoshi rin is getting restless.

the heat on the practice field is oddly suffocating, the clothes sticking to his back feels strange and icky, his goals aren’t hitting, his passes are lukewarm at best and impractical at worst, his teammates are more irritating than usual… among other things.

he’s fucking restless, and the aforementioned issues are not even the source of it.

rin slouches on the bench, leg bouncing as he reigns in the urge to literally bite his infuriating teammate's head off who’s sitting beside him and has been prattling on and on about the match. his coach had told him to sit the second half out, considering how much of a joy he had been acting the past almost half an hour.

his phone buzzes again in his duffel bag by his feet, the vibration sending his teeth grinding against each other in agitation. he pulls it out and immediately opens the message app to your contact just as another text from you comes in.

and there it is. the root of all his problems.

‘have i told you i missed you today? no?? i miss you rinnie :))‘ the text reads. and it would’ve sounded completely innocent if not for the image attachment you’d shared along with it.

it’s a selfie of you in the mirror, looking all pretty and absolutely his while wearing one of his jerseys. no pants, no bra, and no underwear. rin found that out from all the other– how many was it again? probably seven or eight pictures you’d sent prior to this one.

a wave of feverishness rushes inside his veins, flowing down south and making his blood boil until he can feel his pants tightening at his groin. his control is persisting on a fine thread, waiting to snap just at the right moment–

his phone vibrates in his hand. one text of ‘i think she misses you too lol’ and another scandalous photo that insinuates the heaven between your ridiculously sinful thighs later, rin thinks his mind has blacked out from that point on. the last of his control splinters and fractures into bits, and he’s already gathering his stuff from the ground before he heads towards the exit with no more than a muttered “i’m going home,” towards his coach.

the drive back feels like a nonexistent event to his brain, and so is the moment he steps through the threshold, teal hues darkening when they connect with your pair of frozen, unblinking eyes as if resembling a deer caught in headlights. “r-rin? you’re back early… how was–”

everything passes by in a blur and the next thing you know, rin has you sat with him on the bed, back against his chest and jersey bunching on your navel as he pulls another earth-shattering orgasm out of you with his fingers. “come on, baby. you can give me one more, can’t you?” he murmurs against your ear.

tears clump your lashes together, and the hitched breath erupts into a broken whine when rin starts another ruthless pace, his middle and ring fingers thrusting in and out of your sopping cunt to make you fall over the edge again.

“rin–” your hips buck in his hold as you barely notice the drenched sheets underneath your ass from how much you’ve been coming. “‘s too much, i can’t–” you whimper, thighs shaking from the overstimulation and threatening to close before rin hooks one of them beneath his and keeps a firm grip on the other, hindering you from hiding away.

“should’ve thought of that before sending those pictures to me,” he tuts against the side of your head and relishes the way you squeeze around his digits, soaking them with your slick and cum even more. his own arousal grows, digging further into your back and pushing against the constraint of his pants as your hand weakly tries to push him off.

wouldn’t be surprising if there’s already a wet patch there but he’ll take care of that later. for now, you need to be taught a lesson first after teasing him like that.

there’s a dirty cacophony of wet squelching sounds, your moans and his grunts that continues to echo in the room. rin pays it no mind, moving his thumb to rub harsh circles on your swollen clit instead. your eyes roll to the back of your head, the constant drag of his deft fingers against your sensitive walls making you delirious and drunk in an unstable cloud of maddening lust.

another broken sound spills from your parted lips as more slick visibly gushes out between his fingers, causing you to turn and hide your reddened face in his neck. “don’t act so shy now. didn’t you say this pussy missed me? i’m just giving her what she wants,” he gruffly says before gripping your chin to make you watch him play with your body as he pleases.

that familiar heat pools in your stomach, burning up your entire body in a flame of carnal desire as your next climax approaches. rin, however, is becoming impatient. he did mentally decide for one last time before he fucks you on his cock, after all.

desperate now more than ever to get on to the latter part of his decision, his fingers keep the relentless pace on your poor cunt as he rests his palm on your lower belly and gently presses down.

there’s a slight pause in your labored pants, the air getting stuck in your throat before you keen, a sharp and dizzying sense of pleasure colliding against your very mind, body and soul like a tidal wave. you’re once again thrown off the cliff, shattering and coming undone with a ruptured cry of his name tearing from your mouth.

“shit, y/n.” he curses, unable to take his eyes off the sight of you squirting on his fingers as his cock throbs even harder, your cum dripping down to his wrist in an obscene trail.

holy fuck, that might’ve been the hottest thing rin has ever experienced in his entire life.

i’m ovulating don’t look at me taglist open !

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[littlelamy]

HI AGAIN I hope I can send more requests cause I'm kinda obsessed with obx again 😔😔

but could you do some more of jealous rafe? like, maybe they're at the beach, he gave her a bikini for her birthday so they went for her to use it for the first time and then she's tanning and some guys are looking at her 😭

I just love jealousy so much

a/n: thank you for sending a request! 👙 sorry if it’s too long, im obsessed with jealous!rafe, and yes, send as many requests as you want!

the sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the beach as you and rafe strolled along the shore. it was a perfect day for the ocean—warm, inviting, and with just enough of a breeze to keep you cool. rafe had surprised you with a tiny bikini for your birthday, and today was the day you’d finally wear it. you could still remember the look on his face when he handed you the gift, a mix of excitement and nervousness.

“you really think i can pull this off?” you’d teased, holding up the bikini, a delicate fabric in shades of teal that seemed to shimmer in the light.

“you’ll look amazing,” he’d replied, his voice confident, but you noticed the slight flush creeping up his cheeks. “trust me.”

now, standing on the sand, you felt a rush of exhilaration mixed with a hint of nerves. rafe was watching as you adjusted the straps of the bikini, the fabric hugging your body perfectly. you could see the admiration in his eyes, but there was something else—an undercurrent of tension that made your stomach flutter.

“you look incredible,” he said, the sincerity in his voice causing your heart to race. you smiled, feeling a swell of confidence as you sauntered over to your towel, ready to soak up the sun.

you settled down on your beach towel, stretching out comfortably. the sun warmed your skin as you closed your eyes, reveling in the moment. you could hear the gentle crash of the waves and feel the soft breeze tousling your hair.

rafe, meanwhile, was nearby, laying back on his towel but keeping an eye on you. you could sense his gaze on your skin, and it made you feel both flattered and a little self-conscious. you knew he was proud of you, but as time passed, you could also feel his tension building.

you sensed a shift when a group of guys strolled past. they were loud, laughing, and clearly enjoying the day, but as they caught sight of you, their laughter faded into awed silence. you felt their eyes on you, and a rush of warmth crept up your cheeks. it was flattering, but you also noticed rafe’s demeanor change instantly.

“can you believe these guys?” he muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening. “it’s like they’ve never seen a girl in a bikini before.”

you turned your head slightly to glance at the group, catching their wandering gazes. they were whispering among themselves, pointing in your direction. a knot formed in your stomach, unsure of how to react. you laughed lightly, trying to brush it off. “it’s just the beach, babe. it’s not a big deal.”

“not a big deal?” rafe shot back, his tone sharper than you expected. he sat up, his eyes narrowing at the guys as they continued to gawk. “they’re practically drooling over you.”

“rafe, come on. it’s just a few guys having fun,” you said, trying to ease his frustration. “you know I’m with you.”

“i know that,” he snapped, his fingers digging into the sand beside him. “but it doesn’t mean i have to like it.”

you could see the jealousy radiating off him, a heat that contrasted with the sun’s warmth. it was an emotion you’d seen before, but this time, it felt amplified. “are you jealous?” you teased lightly, hoping to lighten the mood.

“of course not,” he replied too quickly, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. “i just…don’t like seeing other guys looking at you like that.”

you propped yourself up on your elbows, studying his expression. there was something adorable about his possessiveness, but it was also a little concerning. “rafe, you know you don’t have to worry. i’m yours.”

“yeah, well, it doesn’t make it any easier to see,” he grumbled, glancing back at the group, who were now openly whispering and laughing again. one of them, a tall guy with dark hair, even made a show of flexing his muscles, clearly trying to impress you.

you couldn’t help but chuckle. “oh please, they’re just being goofy. it’s not like i’m going to go running off with them.”

rafe’s eyes darkened. “you’re right, you won’t. because they don’t know you like i do.” his tone softened slightly, but you could still feel the tension simmering beneath the surface.

deciding to change the subject, you stretched out again, putting on your sunglasses. “how about we take a dip in the water? it’ll cool us off.”

“you mean me cool off while you’re out there looking that sexy?” he replied with a smirk, his eyes still following the group of guys. “not a chance. you’re staying right here.”

you laughed, enjoying the playful banter. “come on, rafe! don’t be such a baby. just because i’m in a bikini doesn’t mean anything.”

“no, but it’s just the principle of the thing,” he muttered, his gaze finally breaking away from the guys to settle on you again. “besides, you’ll just attract more attention.”

“i’ll take my chances,” you said, sitting up fully. “or are you afraid someone will try to sweep me off my feet?”

“as if,” he scoffed, finally relenting. “just remember, they’re all losers compared to me.”

“that’s the spirit!” you exclaimed, standing up and brushing off your towel. you grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the water, your laughter infectious.

the moment you stepped into the ocean, the cool water enveloped you, refreshing against your sun-warmed skin. rafe followed closely behind, still slightly on edge but unable to resist your enthusiasm. as the waves lapped at your legs, you turned to him, splashing some water playfully in his direction.

“you’re going to pay for that,” he warned, a grin breaking through his earlier tension.

“oh, is that a challenge?” you replied, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“absolutely,” he shot back, lunging toward you and catching you off guard. you squealed as he pulled you under the water, laughing as you surfaced, shaking the droplets from your hair.

“you’re going to regret that!” you said, trying to keep your breath steady from laughing so hard.

but as you turned to face him, you caught a glimpse of the guys from earlier still watching, their heads turning as they pointed in your direction again. you felt a twinge of discomfort but brushed it off. rafe, however, was not as easily distracted.

“look at them,” he muttered darkly, his smile fading. “they can’t take a hint.”

“it’s fine, rafe!” you insisted, trying to reassure him as you waded closer to him. “they’re just jealous of you.”

“jealous of me?” he repeated, incredulous. “that’s a stretch.”

“why wouldn’t they be? you’re hot, and you have a gorgeous girlfriend in a tiny bikini. it’s a win-win for you,” you teased, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

“you really think so?” he asked, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.

“absolutely,” you said with conviction. “but you need to relax. they’re not going to steal me away from you. you’re the one i want.”

rafe looked at you for a moment, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “yeah, but… it’s hard, you know? i just want to keep you safe.”

“i get it. but you’re not going to lose me. i promise,” you said softly, taking his hand and squeezing it. “i’m all yours.”

he seemed to contemplate your words, the jealousy simmering down as he relaxed into your touch. “okay, fine. let’s enjoy the beach, then.”

you spent the next hour splashing around in the waves, laughter echoing through the air. rafe finally loosened up, playfully chasing you through the water, his earlier jealousy fading into the background. you both ducked under waves, surfed the gentle swells, and lost track of time. everything felt perfect.

eventually, you decided to take a break and sunbathe again. as you laid back on the towel, you noticed a couple of the guys from earlier still glancing your way, whispering amongst themselves. rafe must have noticed too because you felt his body tense beside you.

“there they go again,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest, a protective stance you found endearing.

“rafe, come on. let it go,” you said, trying to suppress a laugh. “it’s not like they’re going to come over here and ask me out or something.”

“no, but they’re looking at you like you’re some kind of prize,” he snapped, his frustration bubbling back to the surface.

“maybe i am,” you teased, but you could see the seriousness in his eyes. you turned to him, your expression softening. “i’m not going anywhere, rafe. you’re the one i want to be with. no one else can change that.”

he shifted closer, finally meeting your gaze. “you really mean that?”

“of course. besides, they don’t know what you’re really like,” you said, reaching out to stroke his arm. “they can look all they want, but they’ll never understand what we have.”

“i guess you’re right,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “i just… don’t want anyone thinking they have a chance.”

“they don’t. i’m yours, remember?” you reminded him, leaning in for a soft kiss. it was tender and lingering, filled with the warmth and promise of your bond. when you pulled back, you saw a flicker of relief in his eyes.

“yeah, i like the sound of that,” he said, a small smile breaking through. “yours.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0

[brainddeadd]

Neteyam had always known the forests of Pandora as his home—the thick, twisting roots, the towering trees, and the song of the creatures hidden in the leaves. But here, everything was different. He was surrounded by an endless expanse of water, the bright turquoise of the reefs so different from the dark greens he was used to. And as he struggled to adapt, it was you who captivated him most.

He noticed you one day, gliding beneath the waves like you were born from the ocean itself. Your teal skin shimmered under the light filtering through the water, each movement effortless and fluid as you twisted among the colorful coral and schools of fish. You belonged here, completely and unreservedly, and he was struck by your beauty and grace.

When you emerged from the water, droplets tracing the curves of your skin, your laughter like a melody on the sea breeze, he felt something shift inside him. You turned and caught his stare, an amused smile curving your lips.

“You must be Neteyam Sully,” you said, tilting your head with curious eyes. “The forest boy.”

He scratched the back of his neck, feeling unexpectedly shy under your gaze. “That’s right. I… I haven’t exactly mastered the water yet.”

You laughed softly, a sound that seemed to lift his spirits. “That’s alright. We’ll start small. The sea takes time to understand.”

Over the next few days, you became his guide, teaching him to move with the water rather than against it. You showed him how to hold his breath, how to navigate the currents, and how to dive deep without fear. He was a quick learner, but he knew the truth—you were the reason he wanted to learn.

One evening, as the sun began to sink, casting golden rays over the water, you and Neteyam floated side by side, watching the world dip into night. Silence fell between you, comfortable and deep, until he finally spoke.

“I never imagined I’d feel this way about… all of this.” His eyes shifted to you, nervous but unwavering. “Or about someone I barely know.”

Your expression softened, and you reached out, your fingers brushing his hand beneath the water. “Pandora’s full of wonders, Neteyam. Maybe you were meant to find this one.”

With a smile, he gently took your hand, pulling you closer, heart racing with a certainty he hadn’t expected. In that moment, beneath the fading sun and the endless ocean, he knew he was exactly where he belonged—by your side, a part of your world.

[fr0stf4ll]

A court of Shadows and Moonlight - Part 2

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the wake of looming war and changing traditions, a gifted healer returns to the Night Court after centuries of wandering the continents. Tasked with stepping into Madja’s legendary role, she must guide reluctant healers, soothe wounded warriors, and face the entrenched prejudice of Illyrian leaders. But as she mends torn wings and broken spirits, an unexpected bond awakens between her and the Night Court’s enigmatic Spymaster. With rivalries simmering and a dangerous threat looming on the horizon, she must reconcile duty and desire, learning that true healing can extend beyond flesh and bone—if she dares to embrace the light hidden among the shadows.

word count ; 4k

notes; hello hello, thank you so much for all of your comments on the last part. I'm so happy that you guys want to read more of the new fan fiction. Here is the part 2, please don't hesitate to comment or to ask to be on the tag list. Bisous bisous

previous ✧ next

Early morning light painted Velaris in gentle pastels, the snowy streets glowing beneath a sky that hinted at a clear day ahead. The hostel’s front step creaked softly as you left, having already arranged to keep your horse and belongings there for a few more nights. With your cloak drawn tight against the crisp winter air, you stepped onto the cobblestone path, the familiar scent of the Sidra mingling with the freshness of newly fallen snow.

You knew the way well enough, even after centuries away: to reach Madja’s quarters, you had to skirt the edge of a quiet residential district, pass through a small courtyard where a fountain tinkled with ice-rimmed water, and turn down a short lane lined with lanterns and blossoming plants enchanted to survive the cold. Before heading straight there, though, you caught a whiff of something enticing—fresh pastries, warm bread, the sugary hint of glazed treats.

Following your nose, you discovered a small bakery tucked between a tailor’s shop and a candle-maker’s stall. Its sign hung overhead, carved wood depicting a loaf of bread and a swirl of steam. The door, painted a soft teal, stood slightly ajar, letting out the heavenly aroma. Inside, rows of sweet rolls, tarts, and delicate pastries awaited. You remembered how Madja always had a fondness for morning pastries—she used to claim that a little sweetness helped start the day on a kinder note.

Stepping inside, you selected a variety of treats: sugar-dusted pastries, flaky croissants, and small fruit-filled buns that gleamed with syrup. Alongside them, you chose a crusty loaf and a few savory rolls for balance. Wrapping them carefully in parchment, the bakery’s clerk smiled warmly, admiring your thoughtfulness. You paid without hesitation, a slight grin touching your lips at the idea of surprising Madja with these morsels of delight.

With your package of pastries cradled in one arm, you pushed open the door and stepped back onto the street. Distracted by the lingering taste of sweetness in the air and the memory of Madja’s grateful smile, you didn’t notice the tall figure coming around the corner until it was too late.

Your shoulder collided with something solid—very solid—and you stumbled a step, clutching the pastries protectively to keep them from spilling. Looking up, you saw a broad chest encased in fighting leathers and, as your gaze traveled upward, a pair of strong, dark wings folded neatly behind his back. His face was turned toward you now, brows lifted in mild surprise. He was tall, toweringly so, with an air of alert strength that suggested he rarely found himself caught off-guard.

“Pardon me,” you said quickly, voice low and genuinely apologetic. You stepped aside, adjusting your hold on the parchment bundle. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene or lose these treasured pastries to the snowy ground.

For a heartbeat, you noted the faint surprise in his eyes—he’d expected perhaps a greeting or a challenge—but you had no time for curiosities now. You had a meeting to attend and pastries to deliver. Without waiting for his reply, you nodded, a brief dip of the head, and continued on your way.

The sounds of the city moved around you: distant laughter, the whisper of wings overhead, and the muffled crunch of your boots in the snow. You cast one last curious glance over your shoulder, the winged male already merging into the morning bustle of Velaris. Then you pressed forward, heart light with anticipation. Soon, you would be face-to-face with Madja again, and this time, you came bearing both sweets and your renewed commitment to the healing art she had first taught you.

You had barely raised your knuckles to knock on the old wooden door of Madja’s office when it swung open with a gentle creak. Standing just inside was your old mentor, her silvered hair braided neatly, the familiar warmth in her eyes gleaming even brighter than you remembered. Before you could utter a word, she stepped forward and wrapped you in a gentle, enveloping hug.

The scent of herbal poultices and clean linens—scents forever associated with her—filled your senses as you leaned into the embrace. For a moment, all the centuries and miles you’d traveled fell away, leaving only the memory of countless afternoons spent under her watchful guidance, the hush of the healing rooms, and the soft murmur of her patient instructions.

“My dear child,” Madja said, her voice trembling slightly with joy, “it feels like a lifetime since I last saw you.” She held you at arm’s length, scanning you from head to toe. “Look at you, so grown, so poised. It’s hard to believe you were once that quiet apprentice peeking around doorways, curious about every tincture and suture.”

You smiled, a surge of tenderness filling your chest. “It’s been too long, Madja. I’ve been… everywhere, I think.” You lifted the carefully bundled pastries and bread you’d carried all this way. “I know how fond you are of sweet treats in the morning, so I made a stop on my way here.”

Madja’s eyes lit up at the mention of food, the lines at their corners deepening with delight. “You remembered my weakness!” she teased, ushering you inside and closing the door with a gentle push. Her office had changed little: jars and vials lined shelves, each meticulously labeled; scrolls of medical diagrams were rolled and tied with ribbons; a comfortable armchair waited near a small, round table. A thickly woven rug covered the floor, and a window let in gentle winter daylight, illuminating dust motes that drifted lazily through the air.

As you set the pastries on the table, Madja peered at them with undisguised pleasure. “Oh, look at these,” she breathed, selecting a delicate fruit-filled bun to inspect before taking a small bite. The way her face brightened was like sunshine on fresh snow—pure and sincere. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this. Not just the pastries,” she added quickly, laughing, “but you, my dear. Knowing you would return gave me such comfort these last months as I considered my retirement.”

Her words stirred something soft inside you, a gentle ache of gratitude and affection. “You knew I’d come back,” you said quietly, resting your hand on her arm. “I never forgot your lessons. Everywhere I went—Summer Court, Dawn Court, even across the sea—I carried your voice in my memory. It guided my hands, reminded me of compassion and patience in the face of suffering.”

Madja smiled, the emotion shining in her gaze. “Oh, child. That means more to me than all these treats combined. And trust me,” she said, biting into a sugar-dusted pastry, “that’s saying something.”

You both laughed softly, the sound rising and falling in the small, familiar space. Outside, the city hummed with life, and the snow continued to lend a quiet hush to the streets. But here, in this moment, you and Madja were safe in the past made present—teacher and student reunited, ready to pass the torch and write the next chapter of healing in the Night Court.

“Come,” Madja said, beckoning you to sit. “Eat with me, and tell me of your travels. Then we’ll speak of what must be done next. We have so much to catch up on, my dear. So very much.”

Time slipped by like melting snow beneath a warming sun. One conversation bled into another, memories overlapping with new tales as you and Madja shared a quiet feast of words and understanding. Seated by her small, round table, you sampled the pastries you’d brought and she sipped a mild herbal tea, letting it cool on her tongue as she listened with rapt attention.

You spoke of the Summer Court’s lush jungles and how their healers used exotic flowers to treat fevers. You described the Dawn Court’s libraries, where you learned surgical techniques from scrolls older than the High Lords themselves. You detailed the human realms and distant continents, where you discovered remedies made from plants that grew only under strange red suns. And, with a hint of satisfaction, you recounted the new healing methods you developed—mixing herbs in precise measures, using controlled spells to mend bone and flesh faster, more cleanly than ever before. Every word you offered up was met with pride in Madja’s eyes, as if the knowledge you’d gathered were the rarest jewels.

She questioned you about your power, the subtle magic that allowed you to sense illness and pain with startling accuracy. You admitted it had grown stronger with practice: now you could slow a hemorrhage with a whisper or soothe a maddened mind with careful, empathic focus. Through it all, Madja smiled quietly, nodding now and then, her delight and approval like gentle applause in the hush of her office.

Eventually, though, the mood shifted, and the laughter died down into a more somber tone. With a careful breath, you ventured into more painful territory. “I heard about the last war with Hybern,” you said softly, your gaze drifting to the distant window where a smudge of pale sky marked the passing of morning into afternoon. “I should have come back sooner, but I was too far—lost in the deep continent. By the time I got the news, it was already over. I… I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help.”

Madja’s expression grew gentle, understanding etched into every line. “It was a hard time for all of us, child. Many who lived through it bear scars not only of the flesh, but of the heart and soul. The war was brutal, and there were moments when all seemed lost. But we survived—at great cost, yes, but survived nonetheless.” She reached over, placing her hand over yours. “You cannot blame yourself. The world is vast, and news travels slowly. You followed your path and gained what we now need.”

You met her eyes, searching them for certainty. “And now you say… a greater danger looms?”

Her shoulders rose in a slight shrug, but her eyes hardened with quiet resolve. “Yes. Rumors stir—more than rumors, in fact. Whispers of powerful forces converging, alliances hidden in shadow. The next conflict may surpass anything we have ever witnessed. The time will come when Prythian, and perhaps the world, will need every skilled hand, every healer who can do more than close wounds. They will need a leader who can guide healers and armies alike, someone who understands not just medicine, but people. Someone who’s traveled far and wide, who knows how to adapt and improvise.”

Your heart squeezed gently in your chest, understanding dawning like the slow rising of a sun behind storm clouds. “That’s why you’re retiring,” you said, voice hushed. “Because you can’t help as you wish anymore, and you believe I can.”

Madja nodded, eyes shining with conviction. “I’ve given my centuries to this court, to its people. But my hands grow stiff, and my eyesight dims. I know my limits, my dear. And I know your capabilities—greater, more flexible, better suited for what is coming. I trust you to take up my mantle and lead in ways I no longer can.”

A hush settled between you, broken only by the distant murmurs of Velaris and the faint crackle of a log shifting in the hearth. You saw in Madja’s face not only the mentor who guided your shaky first steps, but a visionary who understood when to pass on her legacy.

You bowed your head, acknowledging the weight of this new responsibility. “I will do my best,” you said softly, resolve steadied by her faith.

Madja’s smile returned, quieter but no less sincere. “I know you will, my child. It’s time for the student to stand at the helm. And this city, this court, will need you more than ever before.”

Azriel’s POV

“It’s really happening,” Cassian said, disbelief coloring his tone. “Madja’s actually retiring.”

Azriel stood near the window, wings folded neatly behind him, his dark gaze drifting between the three others in the room: Rhysand, Feyre, and Cassian. They had gathered in a private meeting chamber with a broad table at its center. Beyond the glass, Velaris shimmered under the soft winter light, a gentle hush settling over the streets below.

Feyre leaned against a chair, her voice quiet and steady. “We knew this day would come. She’s served this court for centuries—long before any of us held these positions.” There was a reverence in her tone, as if recognizing that an era was ending.

Rhysand, standing beside her, tapped a folded piece of parchment against his palm. “Madja sent a message this morning,” he said, his voice level. “She wanted us to know that her replacement has arrived in Velaris.”

Cassian crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Already here?” he repeated, frowning slightly. He didn’t sound angry, just unsettled by the rapidity of this change. It wasn’t that any of them doubted Madja’s judgment; rather, it was strange to think of someone else stepping into her role so swiftly.

Feyre shifted her weight, curiosity and concern mingling in her eyes. “Do we have a name? Any details?” She glanced first at Rhysand, then at Azriel, as if seeking confirmation that all would be well.

Rhysand’s violet gaze dipped to the parchment. He unfolded it and scanned the lines. “Her name is Y/N,” he said. “She left centuries ago to travel the courts and even beyond Prythian’s borders, expanding her healing knowledge. Madja describes her as someone she raised after the first war with Hybern—an orphan of that conflict. She took the girl under her wing, trained her, and now says she’s more skilled than ever.”

Azriel remained silent, his shadows stirring subtly at his shoulders. If Madja trusted this Y/N to succeed her, to guide the healers of the Night Court, then that spoke volumes. He could sense the unease mingled with acceptance in the room. Changes like this did not come often, but when they did, they tended to carry immense significance.

Cassian exhaled, one hand lifting to rub at his neck. “If Madja believes in her, we should give her a chance. Still, it’s hard to imagine anyone filling Madja’s shoes.”

Azriel caught Rhysand’s faint smile, a subtle tilt of the High Lord’s lips. “We’ll arrange a meeting today,” Rhysand said, setting the note aside. “We need her expertise, especially if the rumors we’ve been hearing prove true. If a greater conflict is brewing, we’ll require a healer who can lead effectively and adapt quickly. Madja wouldn’t hand us just anyone.”

Feyre nodded, the tension in her posture easing slightly. “Then we should welcome her properly,” she said softly. Azriel noted the determination in her eyes—Feyre had always been good at making newcomers feel at ease.

Cassian grunted in agreement, leaning back as if resigned. “Fine. Let’s meet her.” He didn’t sound hostile, simply accepting that times were changing again, as they so often did.

Azriel finally moved from his spot near the window, stepping closer to the table. Outside, the snow-dusted city remained unaware of their deliberations. This Y/N must be formidable, if Madja thought her worthy of such a mantle. He exchanged a glance with Rhysand, who gave a faint nod, understanding passing silently between them.

They would meet her soon, and then they would know if Madja’s faith was well-placed. Azriel let the thought settle in his mind like a quiet promise: a new ally, a new guardian of life and health amidst all the uncertainties of a changing world.

Later that afternoon, standing in one of the House of Wind’s halls, Azriel and the others awaited the arrival of Madja and her chosen successor. The space was quiet, warmed by braziers that chased away the winter chill lingering outside. Feyre stood to Rhysand’s right, her posture poised and welcoming. Cassian hovered nearby, arms crossed but relaxed, appearing more curious than wary now. Azriel took his place slightly behind Rhysand, shadows flickering softly around his shoulders, keen eyes focused on the grand doors.

He heard them before he saw them—the soft padding of footsteps, the gentle murmur of Madja’s voice as she guided her protégé. Azriel noted a subtle change in his companions: Rhysand and Feyre straightened a fraction, their gazes sharpening, while Cassian let out a quiet breath. The old healer’s arrival was expected, but who accompanied her was still an unknown that drew all their attention.

The door opened smoothly, revealing Madja first. She moved at a calm pace, the lines of age and wisdom etched into her face. At her side was a taller figure Azriel instantly recognized. He stiffened, remembering the morning’s brief collision. He’d caught only a glimpse of her then—enough to register her beauty, but not the details. Now, with the bright lamplight and open space, he could take in every nuance.

Y/N was indeed a High Fae, Azriel guessed, based on the gentle taper of her ears and the timeless look in her eyes. She stood tall, her posture neither arrogant nor meek, just quietly assured. Long hair, light brown and lustrous, fell behind her back, with small curls at the ends that softened the lines of her figure. She’d tucked the strands behind her ears, revealing a face that mixed elegance with warmth. Her eyes were a deep, rich blue—Azriel thought of midnight skies reflected on calm waters—steady and clear as she surveyed the room.

A soft smile curved her lips, genuine rather than practiced. He recalled how quickly she’d left him this morning, offering only a brief apology. Now, seeing her fully, he understood why his memory had clung to that brief encounter. Hers was a beauty that felt natural, not forced—grace in the set of her shoulders, kindness in the soft curve of her mouth.

Madja stepped forward, inclining her head to Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and Azriel. Her companion followed, a respectful dip of her chin acknowledging their status. Azriel watched as Y/N’s gaze flicked over each of them—first Rhys and Feyre, her eyes brightening with recognition of their roles, then Cassian, and finally coming to rest on him. For a heartbeat, their eyes met, and he could have sworn he saw a hint of amusement there, as if she, too, recalled that small mishap by the bakery.

He did not look away. He simply acknowledged her presence with a subtle nod, shadows stilling around him, curious and contemplative.

Madja offered a small smile of encouragement to Y/N as Rhysand and Feyre stepped forward. The High Lord’s posture was relaxed yet attentive, violet eyes reflecting quiet curiosity, while Feyre’s calm warmth radiated outward, creating a welcoming atmosphere. Cassian, still a step behind, nodded in greeting, arms loosely at his sides now. Azriel watched it all unfold, shadows settling into a content hush around him.

Rhysand’s voice was smooth and cordial as he broke the silence. “Madja, thank you for coming. We received your message,” he said, inclining his head to the old healer. “And this must be Y/N, your chosen successor?”

Madja nodded, gently touching Y/N’s elbow in a familiar, reassuring gesture. “Indeed. As I explained, Y/N has returned from her travels—more skilled and knowledgeable than ever. I believe she will serve the Night Court well, especially with what may lie ahead.”

Feyre’s gaze shifted to Y/N, her expression warm. “Welcome home,” she offered simply, the sincerity in her tone unmistakable. “We’ve heard much about you—and I’m sure we’ll have plenty of questions.”

Y/N’s smile deepened, the tension of meeting these influential figures easing a fraction. “It’s an honor to be here,” she replied, voice carrying a steady calm. “I’m grateful Madja trusted me enough to call me back. I hope to prove worthy of that trust.”

Cassian snorted lightly, not unkindly. “If Madja trusts you, that’s already a high recommendation. The rest, I think, will fall into place soon enough.”

Madja tilted her head in gentle agreement. “We will not rush this transition,” the older healer said, her tone practical and kind. “I’m not disappearing tomorrow. For the coming weeks—perhaps months—Y/N and I will work side by side. She will get to know our healers, understand their rhythms, and learn the intricacies of how our wards are organized. By the time I step back fully, she will have found her footing and earned the confidence of every healer under this roof.”

Azriel quietly observed Y/N’s reaction to these words. There was no flash of panic, no tension coiling in her shoulders. Instead, just a measured acceptance, as though she’d been preparing for this for a long time.

Y/N nodded, turning her gaze to Madja briefly, then to Rhysand and Feyre. “I appreciate this gradual approach. It will give me a chance to reacquaint myself with the Night Court’s traditions. I’ve learned much elsewhere, but integrating it here—especially if a war is on the horizon—requires care.”

Her mention of looming conflict stirred something in the air. Azriel noticed how Rhysand’s jaw tightened just so. Feyre’s eyes flickered with a hint of steel beneath their kindness. Cassian’s grin faded slightly, replaced by a sober light in his hazel eyes.

Rhysand offered Y/N a small, approving nod. “Caution is wise. We will likely rely on your skills, your counsel, and your ability to coordinate healers in the field if trouble does come knocking.”

Feyre chimed in softly, “We’ve seen how vital good healers are, not only for soldiers but for civilians, for stabilizing morale. Your presence isn’t just medical; it’s strategic.”

Y/N’s lashes lowered briefly, acknowledging the weight of these words. “I understand,” she said, a calmness threading through her voice. “Healing is more than closing wounds—it’s about maintaining hope, ensuring that fear doesn’t consume everyone. I’ll do my best to uphold that.”

Madja’s smile warmed the room. “You see why I chose her,” she said quietly, pride evident in every syllable.

Azriel inclined his head at Y/N, a quiet gesture of respect. She seemed to notice, meeting his gaze for a fraction before turning back to Rhysand and Feyre. He thought back to their brief encounter that morning—the quick collision, the apology, her hasty departure. Already that memory seemed distant, replaced by the impression of a calm, capable presence who might very well become an anchor in the uncertain times ahead.

“Well,” Rhysand said, after a moment, “I suppose all that remains is to officially welcome you into this role. Y/N, you have our full support. In the coming days, we can introduce you to the healers, and you can start making your own assessments.” He paused, a faint tilt to his smile. “And, of course, do not hesitate to call on any of us if you need assistance.”

Cassian smirked softly. “Just don’t ask me to bandage anyone’s wounds—I’m all thumbs with that,” he teased, the tension in the room easing into something lighter.

Feyre rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. “Ignore him. He’s quite good at following orders when it counts.”

Y/N let out a gentle laugh, and even Azriel’s lips curved slightly, the corners of his mouth barely lifting but enough to notice. The wind seemed to ease outside the windows, the hush of snow falling quietly on Velaris’s spires. Within the House of Wind’s halls, the new healer had been welcomed, the path of her mentorship and eventual succession laid out clearly.

Madja’s eyes shone with satisfaction. “Then it’s settled. We’ll begin tomorrow morning. Y/N, I’ll show you around the wards, let you meet a few of the lead healers.” She glanced at Rhysand and Feyre, and then at Cassian and Azriel. “The rest will follow naturally.”

Azriel considered the moment: transitions were often fraught with uncertainty, but here, in the presence of trust and openness, they felt manageable. He said nothing more, content to stand by and watch as a new cornerstone of the Night Court’s strength stepped quietly into place.

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[romaevelizz]

Far to Familliar

Severus Snape x Fem!Professor!reader

summary: New year means having to teach sixth years how to brew an Amortentia potion. Personally Severus most disliked potion having to endure the same smell, but this year he smells something different. A familiar smell but different.

warnings: cursing, small age gap(bout 5-6 years), hufflepuff!reader, Maverick is used as a last name(kinda self indulged ofc),

As the end of the first trimester approached, the atmosphere in Hogwarts grew charged with anticipation—and trepidation. For Severus, this marked the dreaded time of year when he had to oversee the brewing of the Amortentia potion. Known for its complexity and emotional fallout, this potion stirred up feelings and reopened wounds he preferred to keep buried. It was a notorious unit for both students and him, as it often led to the revelation of hidden affections and, inevitably, heartbreak.

Severus found himself seated at the long table in the Great Hall, his dark cloak enveloping him like a protective shroud. He mentally prepared himself for the chaotic lessons ahead, bracing for the inevitable array of disastrous attempts at potion-making by the teenagers under his instruction. He could still vividly recall the laughter, tears, and arguments that erupted whenever someone inadvertently exposed their deepest feelings for another through the potion's enchanting aroma.

What troubled him most was the haunting scent of Amortentia itself—an evocative mixture that, over the years, had become inseparable from his own memories of what he could only make out as love. He loathed the bitter reminder of his unrelenting feelings for a woman who had long since departed from his life. The whiff of that potion always transported him back to a time filled with both warmth and sorrow, forcing him to confront the guilt that lingered after her death.

Over time, he had reconciled himself to the inevitable encounters with that familiar trifecta of scents—honey, apple spice, and ginger. Each element was a reminder of both joy and grief, binding him to memories he wished he could forget but could never escape. As he sat there, Severus silently cursed the potion, aware that it would once again peel back the layers of his guarded heart.

The sound of students talking around them echoed through his ears as he rubbed his temples irritably, “Everything alright Professor?” a soft voice asked. Looking up Snape's eyes meet the young Earthology professor's eyes, a concerned look in her eye her brows frowned. He watched her for a moment as she sat down to the right of him, moving her teal dress robs as she did so, once settled she pushed her curls out of her face turning towards him.

“Everything is just fine…” he drawled.

She hummed a small smile had pulled her glossed lips up, “You have to brew the Amortentia, a personal favorite I presume.” she teased.

He scoffed lightly, not in a rude way but humored. “You could say..”

“Well, I hope it goes well. Let me know if you need anything.” she offered.

He expressed his gratitude to her before they both returned to their meals. Severus found himself developing a genuine fondness for the new teacher. Though she had been at Hogwarts for some time, her youthful spirit set her apart among the faculty. The head of Hufflepuff, she was cherished by both her students and peers for her kindness and selflessness. Her capacity for empathy was something he admired deeply.

Severus realized he enjoyed her company more than he often admitted, and he hoped she felt the same. She had a way of gravitating toward him, and it was clear to her that they had formed a friendship. At first, Severus tried to distance himself, convinced that it was best for her. He remembered that day when Dumbledore had asked him to accompany her into the Forbidden Forest to gather a herb she needed for her class. It was during that outing that she had bravely confronted him, wondering if he held a dislike for her since he had been keeping his distance. Those few exchanged words had opened a door to understanding.

In truth, his avoidance had stemmed from a worry that he made her uncomfortable. But after that conversation, everything changed. They began to talk more freely, and soon, he found himself seeking her out for supplies and support, realizing how much her presence brightened his days.

There were moments when they would sit side by side, grading assignments together, and her presence brought a sense of comfort that was hard to describe. Conversations flowed effortlessly, often marked by shared knowing glances that spoke volumes, and a dry, sarcastic humor that only they understood. He cherished how she had a knack for calling him out when he was being unreasonable, as well as how fiercely she defended her students, even when they tested her patience just as much as they did his.

He still vividly recalled the first time she cried in front of him. Concern etched on his face, he gently asked if she was alright, and in an instant, she broke down. With her head resting against his chest, her body trembled with sobs, and he found himself instinctively wrapping his arms around her, holding her steady until she found her breath again. Afterward, he brewed her some tea and patiently listened as she poured out her feelings, offering a supportive shoulder and advice whenever she sought it.

He would always remember how she expressed her gratitude, her words wrapping around him like a warm embrace. Over time, they developed a deep understanding of one another that many would describe as intimate, revealing the strength of their bond in a world that often felt overwhelming.

Manirva would make points to call out their friendship that maybe there was more to it which he’d always brush off. Not because of her, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have feelings for her. But he couldn’t confess when he smelled another woman in a love potion. He wouldn’t hurt her because he was guilty of being in love with another, and simply what if she didn’t feel the same? There he would simply have ruined a perfect friendship, he enjoyed her company too much to ruin their bond. Not to mention she was significantly younger than him, so why would she waste her time on a grumpy man? Manirva always rolled her eyes at the excuse she was an adult capable of seeing something good, somebody perfect and capable of giving her the things she deserved.

He Wished Manirva wouldn’t put ideas like that in his head, that he allowed himself to think like that. Cause in truth Manirva was right, she was perfect for him, she was extroverted and full of love, she pushed Severus in situations he deemed uncomfortable or not his scene. He’d let her to, god if it was anyone else he would never. He’d never teach students how to dance with another professor, he’d never make small jokes to amuse the people around him. He’d never ask for another’s opinion, or value one opinion as he did hers.

He liked that his dry sarcastic remarked could make her giggle, he loved the sound of her laugh. How her voice would get a bit higher and quicken when she was excited. He did admire her, her warm complexion matching her aura, how she always wore a beautiful smile, how her eyes always remained doe like, how she talked with her hands and body, how she was always so considerate of her students. He’d never admit it but she surprised him when she got upset for the first time at some 5th year boys disrespecting her and her class she scolded them, her voice stern but she never raised it. He liked seeing her like that. The first time she scolded him, his heart beat heavily in his chest he couldn’t help but grin which only made her angrier. How she scoffed glaring at him, soon to storm away.

“What are you grining about Severus.” A voice teased.

“Nothing mind yourself professor Maverick.” He spoke quickly turing his head away from her.

“Boo don’t be like that whatcha thinking about..” She asked again leaning on the table in front of them her body closer to his. God she smelt good, she always did. She wasn’t even that close to him but the smell of fresh vanilla, shea butter, and the strong smell of lilies as if she rubbed their pollen onto herself, She smelt sweet yet floral.

Turning to face her he said “Thinking about how many teens are gonna end up bothered and hurt by the potion they're oh so excited to brew.”

Her jaw dropped “Severus!” she pushed at him. he chuckled lowly “It happens every year also meant one last couple I have to separate in the halls.”

“That's terrible..” she spoke a smile still on her face, Severus only shrugged. The great hall soon began to empty, students headed towards classes. Y/n smiled at him before leaving herself, he watched her as she left her curls bouncing behind her, the satin rob gliding behind her.

As classes began student gathers around Severus as he began to brew the example for them. He wanted to walk them through every step to ensure they will do it correctly. He’d take his time answering questions as she walked them through, soon he’d have them start as he continued. Students would quietly talk amounts them selves asking their professor questions just for clarification. As he started to finish up, he smelled something sweet yet floral. It didn’t smell of honey, apple spice and ginger as it once did.

No, it smelled of Lillies, fresh vanilla and shea butter.. The sweet aroma hitting his nose, Severus stoped blinking hard to collect his thoughts for he’d just stop talking in the middle of instruction. He glanced up noticing the sixth years still looking at him, too bad for going unnoticed. Severus quickly wrapped his lesson up, letting the student to work amongst themselves. Severus couldn’t help how fast his heart was beating, he was in love with her. He wanted to feel relieved, he was even but again where did her feelings lye?

The end of the day came pretty quickly, the lay period of the day being a prep for himself. As he walked though the halls he was stoped by Manirva and Albus “Severus would you be interested in observing Professor Mavericks lecture with us?” Dumbledore asked.

“Now why would I do that?” he questioned his brow raised, he was gonna go but didn’t wanna make it painfully obvious to the women that stood next to the headmaster.

“Oh come, Severus, it gives you something to do. Plus we both know you want to anyway.” she smiled at him.

He merely rolled his eyes at her playful comment as she impulsively grabbed his arm, her enthusiasm radiating like the bright autumn sun. When they finally arrived, a rich, earthy aroma enveloped them, a refreshing scent that had the power to soothe even the most troubled minds. Severus couldn't help but admire her classroom; it felt as if it had been tailored specifically for her vibrant spirit.

The structure resembled an intricate glass greenhouse, the walls primarily composed of crystal-clear windows that showcased a breathtaking view of the winding river and the majestic forest beyond. Sunlight filtered through, creating a warm, golden glow that illuminated the space.

Inside, the room was a beautiful tapestry of agriculture, each carefully arranged without a hint of chaos. Vines hung gracefully from above, their tendrils curling playfully, while vibrant flowers in varied hues added splashes of color to the serene environment. The ceiling, open to the sky, invited nature's elements inside, allowing birds to flit about and the gentle breeze to playfully rustle the leaves. It was a sanctuary of growth and life, reflecting her passion for the natural world and inviting all who entered to take a deep breath and appreciate the beauty around them.

Severus watched intently as she moved gracefully around the classroom, engaging her students with animated gestures and an infectious enthusiasm. She cast warm smiles at the professors seated in the back, momentarily breaking the professional atmosphere with a touch of friendliness. Unlike the customary robes she usually donned, she wore a stunning dress made of satin, a delicate shade that shimmered between cream and soft gold.

The dress featured long, fitted sleeves that hugged her arms elegantly, while the bodice clung to her figure with a tailored silhouette. As it cascaded down, the fabric relaxed and flowed, creating a gentle, flattering silhouette that gave the impression of ethereal movement. The neckline of the dress sat high, framing her face beautifully and stopping just at the base of her neck, while the back was artfully designed with a slight opening that ended just above the bottom of her shoulder blades.

This design revealed a glimpse of the tattoo that adorned her back, piquing Severus’s curiosity. He had often wondered about the size and artistry of it, a mystery he never dared to inquire about. He suspected it spanned a considerable portion of her back, possibly trailing down her arm, yet she had always kept it concealed beneath her robes until now. The dress accentuated her figure perfectly, hugging her torso down to her hips before falling away softly, emphasizing the graceful lines of her shape.

Her long curls, usually cascading around her shoulders, were swept back in a playful yet messy arrangement held together by a simple clip, allowing the full view of her radiant face. In this moment, she appeared both elegant and approachable, a striking image that captivated him as she continued her lesson, lost in her passion for teaching.

“You’re staring Severus.” Manirva whispered a smirk on her lips. He could hear Albus chuckle next to her.

“Quit it.” he hissed, causing the older women to giggle quietly.

The lesson soon came to an end student leaving her class as well as the headmaster and Manirva, the class room seemed to be still. Severus soon approaching her hands fidgeting behind his back.

“What keeps you, Severus?” She asked as the tall man walked towards her.

“Thought we would walk after.” he spoke.

Her eyes roamed over him, taking in every subtle shift in his posture as she noticed a tension in his shoulders that suggested he might be feeling nervous. Her head tilted slightly to the side, her curiosity piqued by the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. "That's all? You seem like you have something more to say?" she inquired, her voice laced with both intrigue and a hint of challenge, encouraging him to reveal what was clearly weighing on his mind.

She sensed an underlying tension in the air but chose not to press the issue. Severus, on the other hand, felt a restless urgency bubbling within him. His fingers itched to reach into his pocket, where the small vial lay hidden, and offer it to her. With a heart full of hope, he silently prayed that she would catch the faint, intoxicating scent that lingered around him. He yearned for the moment of recognition, convinced by Minerva's encouraging words that there was a possibility she could truly see him for what he was. Yet, the thought of disappointment loomed over him like a dark cloud; the very prospect of her not feeling the same way sent shivers down his spine, amplifying his anxiety. It was a delicate balance of hope and fear, one he could hardly contain as he awaited her response.

“Sev— You can talk to me, You seem bothered..” she spoke up.

He took a small breath “Smell this for me would you, need another person to see if the student made this right..” He lied holding a small vile out for her.

Seeing the potion seemed to make her nervous. A noticeable swallow came from her, her poster becoming more straight. “How come not ask Manirva? she’s more skilled in potions than I..” She was, she was nervous.

“Perhaps, but i’m here with you… I take your intellect into consideration.” He spoke carefully, his eyes still watching.

She turned her gaze momentarily, her eyes drawn to the delicate vial nestled in his hands, its contents swirling with a soft pink hue. Slowly, she leaned closer, her intent focus unwavering as she inhaled the potion’s fragrant aroma. It was clear to her that this potion had been crafted with meticulous care, each ingredient harmoniously blended. The scent enveloped her senses—a warm blend of rich sandalwood intertwined with the earthy notes of herbs, creating a symphony of fragrance that felt almost ancient.

There was also a deep undertone of musk, an essence that hinted at secrets whispered and stories untold. As she breathed in, she caught a whiff of old parchment, soaked in ink, evoking memories of dusty tomes filled with forgotten knowledge. Her heart raced slightly as she looked at him, peering through her fluttering lashes, and her voice emerged like a gentle breeze, barely audible yet filled with sincerity. “I say the potion is perfect...” she murmured, the words hanging in the air like a delicate promise.

The two professors stood closely together, the warmth radiating from their bodies creating an intimate atmosphere. In the stillness of the moment, Severus could distinctly hear the rhythmic thumping of her heartbeat, a sound that seemed to echo and fill the space between them. He glanced at her, curiosity etched across his features. “What is it that you smell?” he inquired, his voice low and deliberate, as he sought to understand the sensations that intertwined them in this charged silence.

Her mouth opened slightly only to close for a moment. “I smell sandalwood, musk, mixture of herbs, and old parchment.”

Severus breath became still, his eyes never leaving her. He watched as she moved his hand causing the potion to go towards his nose. “Now tell me..” she spoke her face close to his, “What is it you smell Professor?”

“I smell vanilla, not fresh but sweet vanilla. I smell shea butter and cashmere, and lillie’s like the strong pollen that comes off them.” He spoke watching her expression. Her face seemed to stay still but the smallest twitch of her lip and how her brows raised was enough to show that she was just as relieved as he was.

There was a sense of relief between the two, a quiet relief. The fact the both had held back for so long just to realize they had feeling for each other. No, that they were in love with one another.

“So when were you going to say something..” She asked playing with her fingers.

Snapes brow raised “How could i have been so sure.. I didn’t want to ruin what we had if you didn’t reciprocate the feelings I hold for you.” He said.

She smiled a small snort coming from her “Severus, i fear i was very loud in the way i felt for you… You think all the things the words my actions were casual? just friendly?”

That made his stand up a bit straighter “ Well..” he couldn’t say anything because now that he thought about it she was right. He was just scared.

He covered his face with his hands out of embarrassment, his how could he have been so incompetent. He could hear he soft laugh, the feeling of her fingers peeling his hands off if his face. Greeting him with a warm smile, “Sev no need to be embarrassed, i’m just glad you feel the same.” she spoke out of relief her eyes looking over his face.

Her hands fell from his face to his chest, “May i kiss you?” he asked suddenly.

“Please do.”

His lips met hers carefully, his hands holding her face gently as he kissed her a soft groan leaving her as their lips met. Their lips moved in sync, the kiss anything but quiet he tilted her head back deepening the kiss. Her grip on his robes became tighter pulling him closer to her. Shifting his body he pushed her against her desk. For only a moment they pulled away admiring each other or a seconded. He lifted her a bit so she sat on her desk, his hands readying on the sides of her as she held his face while they kissed. Perhaps it was the heat of the moment, but as soon as her back fell against the wooden desk and things fell off, she really couldn’t care less.

Severus hands felt up her sides as he kissed on her neck, soft moans left her lips the beautiful sounds making Severus forget any self respect he had for himself in the moments. His grip on her dress tighten the sudden sound of buttons poppingcaused him to stop. His eyes met hers only resolving a look of ‘forget it’, so he did pulling her back up in the window behind them he could see her bare back. The tattoo she only seen the top of run down her spin and bleed off into flowers and vines. If he didn’t have any human decency he’d have her right then and there, she slowed her self to be vulnerable with him and that was something he’d never take advantage of.

The sudden knock at the door caused him to drop her leg and pull her up and off the table quickly, a whisper of reparo and her dress was fixed. Straightening them selves up as the door opened the came face to face with Albus and Manirva.

“Hello!— is there anything i could help you with professors?” Y/n choked out clearing her through of a sudden stutter.

The older professors shared a glance to one another a mischievous grin on the two. “Oh nothing Dear just came to see if you and Severus where going to come and join us for dinner.”

God was it already Dinner time, Severus though. They had gotten carried away with themselves. He watched as Manirva walked up to her her hands carefully fixing Y/ns collar and her thumb whipping under her lip.

“Seemes you made a mess of her.”

“Pardon?” the both said to her.

Manirva pointed to her lips “Have to say Severus never thought a dark cherry would look good in you.” she giggled turning on her heels.

The two younger professors looks at one another and needles to say they weren’t gonna get away with it, smeared lipstick, messy hair and rosy cheeks. Not to mention the mess of school work that had fallen from her desk.

shit.

“Well let you clean up, shall we be expecting you for dinner or are you both going to eat in Your Chambers?” Albus hummed and silly grin hidden under his beard.

“uhh- I think we’ll stay in, we’ll see you at breakfast.” Severus spoke up.

“Ahh, alright you two. Remember you both have class in the morning..” Albus said walking towards the door.

The door soon shut, the pair both groaning quietly for how badly they were just caught. The two weren’t ever going to hear the end of it.

[emsartwork]

ALL OF DAPHNE'S TRANSFORMATIONS. INCLUDING UPDATED NYMPHIX.

Previously Fairy of the Dragon Flame now Fairy of Embers. She doesn't have any transformations others than these because she was fast tracked into the nymphix path, and unlike the winx the majority of fairies don't pursue additional transformations past enchantix. (i think Daphne would be interested in Dreamix tho, so maybe I'll draw that eventually.

Her major color shifted after dying and being revived, which is shown in her winx and enchantix.

other lore and design notes below!

I changed her major color from orange/yellow to more of a teal/green because. she just doesn't look good in yellow I'm sorry I really tried but it wasn't working. Also little updates to her hair color, nothing huge tho. Daphne's primary motifs are a branching "Y" shape and a double oval/tear drop. She's a pants when possible girlie and a one set winger(yes her nymphix looks like it have multiple wings but they all merge into one stem on each side) . Her scars from her Sirenix being ripped out of her caused her winx/enchantix to change a little to cover them(mostly seen in the arms) due to insecurity. Her Dryadix/nymphix flower is a daffodil! because pun Daph-Daff, and Daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings (also creativity, energy, resilience, forgiveness and vitality). Her Harpix wings aren't super specificly patterned, but she has darting wings common in small song and seed birds (robins, finches, brown birds etc.) the coloring is referential of a Shrike (also called a Butcher Bird), because Daphne was. incredibly dangerous and if she had sided with the ancestral probably would have been given a moniker similar to Butcher of Domino or Daphne the Slaughterer. (some people do call her these but its mostly among people who dislike Domino/The Royal Family.)

Lore! Daphne doesn't have a great sense of self, she was planned as a necessary successor to Marion/the dragon flame in a period as the ancestral witches were escalating their attacks and search for the dragon flame. Bloom was a back up baby in case both Daphne and Marion got dead and basically worked as intended haha. Daphne was also much more publicly involved in the kingdom than many of the other royals in winx (Stella, Aisha, Krystal and even Galatea to an extent all had rather sheltered upbringings) in a way Daphne is much more like Sky and Thoren in the since that none of them really had the space to develop their own personality outside of their familial duty.

Daphne's 1st winx and enchantixes are as direct a copy of her mom's Enchantix as you can get with transformations, right down to the more greenish tint of her major color. Growing up Marion used her fairy form liberally, so that, combined with being the next Dragon Flame holder left a deep impact on Daphne's subconscious. Daphne was also heavily influenced by Faragonda during her Alfea and Nymphix Quest years, but since she was older this isn't as deep an influence. After being revived, Daphne's years of defining herself as her connection to Bloom causes her major color to shift more blue in response to her trauma. Daphne is slowly starting to develop a sense of self outside of her titles/connections but it's unlikely her major color will shift again unless she has another major trauma.

(for the record the Winx do have trauma over the timeline I have laid out that would potentially cause their major colors to shift but I didn't do that for a couple reasons 1, their colors are iconic and make them easily recognizable as characters; 2, I'm a tired bitch. )

[ana-cantskywalker]

Ok but imagine Hera on Lothal, still on maternal leave from having Jacen, doing whatever she can to help rebuild the city while she can't be out fighting.

Imagine her, dead on her feet from having a baby but still helping the relief work to those most affected by the Empire. Helping the elderly who had been displaced for being less useful to the empire.

Imagine her meeting an elderly woman with teal-blue eyes that almost look familiar, and immediately feels a connection with her. The woman is kind and asks Hera why she is so weary, Hera tells her about Jacen. She gives her advice on how too get him to sleep through the night.

Imagine her talking about her own son, born all those years ago before the Empire even existed, with her eyes and his father's dark hair. Her little boy who she'd known was special since the day he was born, who had been chosen by the then respected Jedi to train among them. Her little boy who she missed dearly and worried about daily, especially when the Jedi were marked as terrorists.

Imagine Hera sharing stories of the Jedi that were apart of her family, and how much she missed them daily, about how she both worried and wished that Jacen had the same abilities as his father.

Imagine Hera asking her what her son's name was, on the miniscule chance one of her contacts might be able to find intel on what his fate was, and the woman responds

Caleb Dume

[amongdestiny-qu33n]

Just a small drawing I was working on all last night lol

I’m so tired lol

(yes, it’s a redraw of smth under the cut)

SCREENSHOT FROM RODAMRIX VIDEO I REDREW

[heavenbloom]

BEFORE YOU READ: consider donating to Palestinian families in need here.

𐚁 — 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐰 | 𝐬. 𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐫

song: charlotte — hope sandoval & the warm inventions

summary: with rage and vengeance sweltering in her heart, love is something distant to sadie now. she’s still sweet on you, though — but only ever under the amber hue of lantern-light, stretched upon dusty sheets.

warnings: 18+ mdni. smut and a little bit of angst. porn with little to no plot, afab fem reader, fingering (r! receiving), tiniest amount of nipple play, semi-public sex (?? they’re in a tent so…), she puts her fingers in your mouth, pet names used (honey, seeetheart, darling). mentions of sadie’s past marriage and grief, canon timeline, mentions of guns, mentions of violence and death. kind of sad??? not proofread

a/n: this one’s dedicated to @catfern because without her i never would’ve played rdr2 🫡

Her heart is buried elsewhere, among the kindlings of her old life. What tender creature that laid inside that chest of hers remained where it was broken, beneath the ashes of home and husband.

You knew this when you first saw Sadie; her eyes wide, fearful pools that drank in ambery flame-light. You knew it when she arrived back at camp one day, the nagging sorrow evolved into something with teeth; the tang of gun smoke clung to her shirt and her slender hands were caked in the grit of a sin you didn’t wish to know the details of.

You’re aware of it even now, sprawled across tattered sheets and peering up at her in the warm glow of a single lantern. The same eyes and hands that tear open early graves in the daylight are now preoccupied with you; sweetly. Warmly.

The honey blonde tangle of her hair brushes against your collarbone as she leans over you, her lust-heavy gaze appraising you from top-to-toe. So close, you can smell the bite of gunpowder and the dry sweetness of hay lingering on her dusty clothing. There’s always a lick of danger that surges, electric, up from beneath her surface.

But she is never jagged with you. Her holsters lay like half-forgotten mementos, the gleaming handles of her guns glinting for attention but garnering none of it from her.

Revenge seemed a distant call now as her coarse fingertips kissed up your sides, slipping up the curve of your hips to the crook of your waist. Her skin is searing against the air-cooled body beneath it, and she can’t quite reel back the smile that graces her lips when you melt, so instantaneously, at the sensation.

It felt good for somebody to offer her all-encompassing trust again. To wish for her touch, to crave it and to respond so earnestly, even if no drum of love beat within this heady rhythm.

Her hands ghosted over your ribs, sprawling as they ascended to the supple flesh of your breasts. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat as the pads of her thumbs brush over your already stiff nipples, back arching like a branch in the breeze, bowing towards her.

Sadie laughs at this, and the sound is as warm as milk and honey on a drowsy night. It runs down the notches of your spine, balmy as it pools in the centre of your core. Repining fingers hook into the knotted teal neckerchief she’s wearing, and she tuts as you pull her body closer.

“Patience, honey,” she attempts to chide, but the word left her half-heartedly. When has she ever been patient?

The ghost of teeth and tongue graze over your neck, hot air tickling as she tugs at the buds on your chest. Softly at first, then harder, until your body sings shakily with a want for more.

One hand traces a fiery path south. Down, down, down, until she is met with it; silken and soaked, welcoming her so sweetly.

Something hybrid and base, a laugh twisted up in a sigh, leaves her lips. She parts your folds gently, the sound already obscene despite her feathery touch. Your hips lift off the sheet, a beckoning.

She wastes little time as she slides two fingers into your velvety walls, kissing a butterfly trail up your jaw as she does.

The speed of her movements is melodious with the grinding of your hips, the near-blinding desire for more of her, any of her. They reach deep and heavenly, ambrosial pleasure sliding thick through your veins as she curls pumps them in and out.

Her lips find their way to your hair, and they whisper honeyed praises into it, a cooing chorus of sweetheart’s and that’s it in the guitar-stringed voice you have come to adore. She pecks your temple and your quivering brow as your cunt flutters around her digits.

Your moans crest the quietness of the night, soaring to a crescendo as you shudder beneath her. Sadie clicks her tongue. It’s too late, too crowded, in the camp. Although she doubted any of those crooked folks would mind, a part of her wants this sliver of heaven for her own selfish self.

“Shh, shh,” she breathes against the shell of your ear. The hand that was on your chest now hovers above your agape mouth. “Gotta keep quiet, darlin’.”

You feel the pads of two fingertips skim along the bitten-red lips and you know just what to do. You take her middle and ring finger into your mouth, the corners of your lips slick with drool as you suck on them.

The sight of you, with eyelids flickering and velvet tongue laving over her rough skin, makes her own cunt throb in her trousers. Debauched, all for her…

She curls her fingers inward as her thumb joins the symphony, rubbing tight, determined circles on the swollen bundle of nerves above. She’s set on it now; seeing you come undone on her fingers, a mass of shivering limbs and saccharine bliss. She needs it.

Her fingers in your mouth twitch on your tongue as you slur worshipping words around them. Cool metal presses against your chin, an added layer to your ecstasy. Her wedding ring, glinting beneath the obscenity of your lips.

You crack open your bleary eyes to look at her as the pressure roils within you, threatening to break. Chestnut eyes, half-lidded, stare back, and a blush blooms from her golden nape up to her sharp-lined cheekbones.

In this lighting, beneath the haloing glow, with her tousled waves slipping from her plait and her rosy skin, you could imagine it. Loving her. Being loved by her.

Your peak washes over you, crashing over you like frothy ocean waves. Your body trembles beneath her roaming gaze. She doesn’t stop, not until the tremors pass, until your voice quiets around her fingers.

When her fingers slip out from within, Sadie lets you reach for her. She doesn’t protest when you pull her close and she doesn’t move when your limbs tangle with hers.

Chest-to-chest and hip-to-hip, your breath evening out as she traces a finger across your swollen bottom lip. Kissing your forehead, even as the sheen of gold on her left finger is a reminder of why she shouldn’t.

Yes, her heart is a burnt, battered thing. But it still exists, doesn’t it?

In the hushed aftermath, she thinks she feels something. Weak, hesitant, but a heartbeat nonetheless.

[huntressao3]

Finally introducing Nolly’s owner, Lady Bianca!

Age: 38

Gender: female

Lady Bianca is one of Lady Margaret's daughters, a Glukkon virgin queen with a razor-sharp focus on claiming her mother’s throne. At 38 years old, she is among the youngest of her siblings and carries herself with an air of superiority. Slender and poised, Bianca prides herself on her elegance, always dressed in high-end gowns tailored to emphasize her lean frame with the her favorite fur trimmed gown being made from the fur of rare albino fuzzles.

Bianca's haughty and pretentious demeanor defines her interactions. She is quick to belittle those she deems inferior, including her own sisters, whom she sees as either unworthy or too brutish to lead. She believes herself to be the embodiment of sophistication and the rightful heir to the Magog Cartel throne. However, her high standards and condescending attitude leave her with few genuine allies. Her sharp tongue and disdain for those she perceives as less cultured isolate her from her family and peers alike, with one notable exception: her pet Mudokon, Nolly, who Bianca purchased eight years ago when she was ten in mudokon years.

Bianca was drawn to Nolly due to her calm demeanor and odd coloration, teal and lilac with golden feathers and lovely blue eyes, which Bianca claims “complements her aesthetic”. Now eighteen, Nolly serves as a loyal companion to her mistress with Bianca treating her with a bizarre mix of affection and condescension. Nolly seems to be the only things that softens Bianca’s sharp edges, with her still confiding in the mudokon in secret, knowing she won’t betray her.

Bianca wholeheartedly believes that she is the most fit to take their mother’s place with her using her wit and appearances to undercut her sisters with her sometimes even enlisting the help of Nolly in her schemes. Whether or not her refinement or strategy will get her the throne or leave her as an out-of-touch relic remains to be seen.

Finally managed to get something out after taking a long break since tomorrow is my birthday and I wanted to get something nice out for all of you before then! Let me know what you think of Nolly and her mistress

And here is a higher quality image of the two of them together

[potstism]

❤️‍🩹 my take on a PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder) flag 🧠

clipart .png credit

i had been waiting from months to a year to see someone design a flag for PMDD since i'm not very confident in my own ability, so i decided to go ahead and bite the bullet with an attempt. this is currently planned to just be a draft and may be subject to change with new updated versions in the future.

TW FOR MEDICAL TRAUMA/ABUSE: although this topic is not very widely discussed, or at least doesn't seem to be commonly present, online among the disabled community, my personal experiences with PMDD have made acknowledging its existence as well as its consequences quite necessary to me. as of the time of writing this, i am 19 years old, and when i was 15 exactly this time of year (as well as the first similar incident a couple months prior), i had an intense hyper-emotional episode the week before my period that was so bad i ended up getting institutionalized at a psych ward against my will and have never been the same since. for years now, i've been on a birth control pill that suppresses my cyclical hormones and prevents my period from occurring most of the time.

before getting into the stripes' meanings, there are two factors to explain behind my thought process:

dark teal is considered to be the awareness color for this disorder, although i went with a light aqua color because i think it looks better with the pink, and it's in the same family so i believe it still works.

pink is meant not to represent femininity necessarily since uterus-owners can come in many different gender expressions, but rather fit with the vibe of internal organs, especially since pink is closely related to red which is how warm blood appears (and is a key element of uterine cycles).

as for the stripe meanings, here is my proposal for each single word:

awareness ─ suffering from premenstrual dysphoric disorder is a very real thing that happens to müllerian individuals everywhere. according to the cleaveland clinic, which i am an active visiting patient of, about 10% of people with our reproductive body types who are at least of minimum pubescent age may be affected by it. although it does not tend to be a risk toward physical health, it is often a deadly threat to our mental state and well-being, which can lead to suicidal ideation.

strength ─ i consider this to be an invisible disability, with most of the symptoms taking place within our internal worlds and fighting a constant battle with negative thoughts + emotions. in addition to this, physical symptoms also arise and can cause severe discomfort before menstruation even begins. all of this happens within the confines of our own homes, and we tend to suffer through it alone. people who do not have PMDD probably fail to realize how strong we have to be in order to get through this difficult time repeatedly & endlessly, despite their well-intended efforts.

diversity ─ this is intended to have multiple meanings, and to include anything i may not have come up with so far. for one thing, there are plenty of different experiences to be had with this disorder, such as varying levels of cramping + sickness or depression + anxiety. on another note, not only do our bodies each work differently (some may also have endometriosis and/or PCOS, which are also intersex conditions, as a double-whammy), but many of us do not conform to societal ideas of gender despite all having these parts in common. there are infinite possibilities to mix & match with presentation & identity, which is not limited by biology.

flesh ─ although many factors are involved in this process, including hormones, PMDD centers around the uterus, which is an internal organ. the flesh represents the physical aspects of this experience, and how we must take great care of our bodies in order to ease how we feel.

pain ─ there is so much physical + mental pain that builds around this disorder, which deserves to be recognized, sympathized with, and treated. the deep pink (to me) somewhat resembles what ibuprofen & benadryl pills look like; painkillers & antihistamines respectively (i'm not sure if anyone else needs the latter, but my skin's condition gets really reactive when i go through my cycle).

anyone is free to reblog/use accordingly, although you may have to be mindful of permission/credit with the uterus imagery from the source!

tagging for reach (it may not fit your gimmick exactly, so feel free to ignore if you're uninterested, or reblog somewhere else!): @idwl @satyrradio @spaghettimakesflags @obnebulant-mogai @caeliangel @intervex @arco-pluris @beyond-mogai-pride-flags @radiomogai @themogaidragon @neopronouns @mad-pride @disabilitypride