#HUNT .01: sunlight

[lightning-etc-lord]

Generals of the Xianzhou.

[lightning-etc-lord]

Snow lion <3

hugs 🦁

[lightning-etc-lord]

Mr. Jing in the night.

When he walks up to the stage, a sudden expectant silence follows. Jing Yuan is dressed pretty well— with a black sleeveless turtleneck that displays his biceps and forearms, cropped just under his chest to allow a good view of his abdominal muscles. He wears pants, too. Red ones that hug his thighs perfectly, the leather of it displaying the curves at each flex of muscle. And he knows he’s going to give a show, knows he’ll be the center of these people’s eyes. It only makes him more mischievous.

The pole is a friend, one that he knows well. Jing Yuan greets the pole first by spinning around it, then turns towards his audience with a sheepish grin— and grips the bar with both hands before launching his body up, hooking a leg around the pole as his muscles flex to hold his weight. He’s upside down, giving a spin, until his hands leave the pole as well and all holding him two meters above the ground are the muscles of his thighs. The clothes, although covering well, can’t hide how strong his legs are. Jing Yuan rolls his hips to the rhythm of the music, then trade his position to stand upright, both feet on the ground once more. As the music becomes more energetic, he climbs the pole again, this time holding himself with both arms and letting his legs dangle a little. Every movement is slow, even though the music is beginning to go too fast. Until he hooks another leg around the pole, bending his waist backwards to the middle, following the rhythm of the music with his arms and neck instead.

After a show of pure strength, the man hoops off the center of the platform to mingle with the customers. He dances while walking, coming up to y/m/n with a grin that is both devious and innocent at the same time. Naughty. Yuan climbs on y/m/n’s lap, bringing one hand to their neck while the other traces their lips. He tightens his grip on their neck slightly, and licks his own lips, clearly full of ill thoughts. All the while, his hips keep rolling to the rhythm of the music, never actually leaning all of his weight over the customer. He links their hands eventually, allowing touch. Once both hands are on his abdomen, Yuan raises his arms to motion accordingly to the music once more, flexing his muscles to let the customer feel just how hard he works out.

Once the exploration is over, he winks to y/m/n, smirk on his pretty lips. And then he’s gone, sliding his body one last time against his customer’s before he’s climbing back to the pole. Yuan holds it with both hands above his head, skin glistening with sweat and glitter as he keeps dancing, turning and tossing his own body to give all kinds of views. By the end of it he’s breathless, cheeks pinkish, but his mischievous smile doesn’t die. He knows very well what he’s looking like and isn’t apologetic at all. "Interested in a VIP session? Just ask for it at the entrance."

[moonlight-prose]

PICK YOUR POISON

➻ 01. ATROPA BELLADONNA

a/n: the october season calls for me to delve into the grotesque and gothic story ideas i save up year round. so that's what this is! i love the idea of logan howlett stuck with an immortal reader. but there's a twist. our lovely reader isn't a mutant, but someone cursed to live life in the worst way possible. i hope you enjoy the small journey these two go on and happy spooky season!

summary: life as a lumberjack gives him the freedom to pretend he's human. that he hasn't lived enough lives to leave him withered and weary. ready for the grave that will never come. until he happens upon an unmarked grave in the middle of the forest and his life changes forever.

word count: 4.2k+

pairing: lumberjack!logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: NOT EXPLICIT BUT DARK THEMES AHEAD, gothic themes, horror, necrophilia (kind of!), death, graves, vomiting, tw: blood, feral reader, poison, immortal!reader, curses, witchcraft of some kind, chance encounters, they're both a little unhinged in this one.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

The forest is silent save for the rhythmic thump of an axe against wood. Life doesn't exist in the small sphere of dead branches and fallen leaves. No bugs, no birds. The wolves hunt elsewhere; the prey have all but abandoned a place where death permeates the air.

What was nature to do when someone so unnatural had been laid to rest?

He knew he was too far from the predetermined area. The yellow tape was marked for trees ready to be chopped down. But the sound of the men laughing about some bar they found had set his teeth on edge—a rush of anger from deep in his chest now resurfacing quicker than he liked.

Some days were better than others. Some days he could join in on the laughter, make simple conversation, and pretend to be normal.

Other days he felt the clawing urge to bite and snap and dig his claws into flesh rear in his head. Try as he might, he couldn't ignore that unhinged sensation. Even if he wanted to. On those days he preferred to be alone. Away from humanity, separate from what they wanted from him.

They saw him as a man.

Not an animal.

That should be enough to appease his restless spirit; give him some peace after so much chaos.

His teeth ground together in his clenched mouth, sweat sticking to the back of his neck despite the cold weather. The axe felt like an extension of his arms. Hacking away at the base of a tree he knew would make enough noise to draw attention once it tipped. That didn't deter him from repeating his swing. From baring his teeth and growling through it in order to dig out what calm he could.

The blade wedged itself halfway into the bark before he heard it. The stifled scream of a woman. His body went stiff, head whipping around to see if someone had followed him. The instincts from before—days spent as a soldier still burned into his nerves—began to overtake his senses as another muffled scream pierced his eardrums.

He left the axe behind, heart thumping an unsteady beat in his chest as he made for the forest. Trees blocked what little sunlight poured through dense clouds; the air a murky fog that chilled his lungs with each breath. He could taste the sap dripping off tree bark on the tip of his tongue—his mind clinging to the edge of sanity as he moved.

Twigs snapped beneath his boots, leaves cracked with the weight of his body, but Logan couldn't think about moving silently. Someone was getting hurt. He could practically smell their fear. The heady coagulated tang of blood spilled over the forest floor.

"Hello?" he called out, emerging through the thicket of branches.

A small clearing gave way to what little light remained in the afternoon. Petrichor lingered in the pockets of clear air, familiar enough to set his earlier anxieties aside. Fall in Canada shepherded rain forward with a heavy hand.

He knew the woods would be soaked come morning. Any signs of life lost to the pelting drops of rain that dragged hail right alongside it.

His feet stopped at the edge of freshly packed dirt, a shovel tossed to the side with a dent in the metal large enough to resemble the size of a skull. Sucking in air, the hair rose on the back of his neck when the shriek sounded again. Pained. Anguished. As if someone was fighting to claw their way to the surface.

"Fuck," he gasped, dropping to one knee—fingers burrowing in the moist soil and heaving it over to the side. "I'm here. I've got ya!"

Another muffled cry filtered through the layers of dirt as he dug with heaving breaths. Sweat prickled along his forehead, dripping down his temple. The brine of salt dripping onto the already muddy area. What hope he could grasp onto began to slip through his fingers; now dragged beneath the surface of an already haunted forest.

Logan stumbled back when a hand shot through the dirt, piercing the ground by his foot. He sucked in a sharp breath, eyes wide as an arm appeared, fingers grasping for leverage in the loose topsoil. He'd never experienced terror before. True fear that lingered in the bottom of his chest, echoing a solemn tune he wanted to rip from his flesh. But the sight of someone clinging to life filled his lungs with water.

You could feel it. The dirt and stones that packed themselves beneath your nails, slicing open what remained of the once pretty nail bed. It happened later this time. Took longer than you expected. Crimson blood mixed with the black soil as you vomited what stuffed itself into your lungs; the impacted earth was too heavy for your body to hold onto and thus the result remained the same.

Somehow it felt worse each time.

A cry of agony pierced the brume—splitting open the silence that could no longer exist. And with another heave, you managed to free yourself from a shitty dug grave with barely enough dirt to cover.

Sucking in a lungful of air, you collapsed to the ground. Body nude and streaked with mud. You couldn't tell which parts of you were sliced open this time around, could barely make out the color of the trees through the thick layer of fog. But the leather brown boots two feet away caught your attention instantly.

With a whimper, you lifted your head—eyes latched onto the broad man above you who looked ready to lose his breakfast, or join you on the ground. Perhaps both with the way his paled face stilled at the sight of you.

Of course, the time it took to return would fuck up your plans for solitude. Of course, you would have company at the worst possible moment.

This part was never easy.

"Hi," you meekly rasped, voice entirely gone from how many times you screamed.

Harrowing silence became the space that hung between your body and his. You curled your toes to force the blood back down through your veins. Hands holding an unsteady shake that would take a good hour to dissipate. You began to notice the color of his flannel—a deep umber with lines of brown. The scent of cedar permeating the air; sap a thick sweetness you could practically taste in the back of your throat.

Senses took a few moments to return back to their original vigor. Yet you couldn't allow yourself to slip into the you from twelve hours ago.

Not when the man still watched you, eyes overflowing with dread. You wondered if he was real. Would he flinch if you swung a fist at his shin? Or was your dilapidated mind conjuring him in a hallucinatory haze you'd eventually break free from.

Pushing yourself up on trembling limbs, you managed to contort your half paralyzed body into a sitting position. The feeling would return to your numb core; the steady drip of life slowly seeping back into your veins the longer you remained still.

Movement seemed to puncture a hole in his stupefied mind—yanking him back to reality. He dropped to one knee with a heavy exhale. "Who the fuck did this to you?"

You wanted to laugh. You nearly did laugh.

How were you meant to tell this complete stranger that you in fact...did this to yourself?

"Are you cold?" he asked as if you still held the capability to speak.

When it became clear you had no intention of offering him any sort of explanation, he promptly cussed under his breath. Hands stripping off the brown leather jacket that hung over his clearly muscled form. You tried to shake your head, hoping he'd get the hint and simply leave you alone.

The cold didn't harm your already frozen skin. Not when a rush of blood coursed through you—pumping an unhealthy amount of adrenaline back to your now racing heart.

He draped the heavy fabric over you anyways, securing it to cover what skin he could. His eyes fixed on the side of your face. What a goddamn gentleman. Hilarity of this entire situation flickered brightly in your mind, forcing a jolt through your body that had him rearing back a few inches.

He must not be used to the sight of someone coming back from the dead.

No one would be. Unless they understood your current predicament.

"Do you have someone I can call?"

Again...silence became all that lingered in your mirrored confusion. You pleasantly discovered that you liked the sound of his voice. He felt his stomach churn with the eggs he scarfed down an hour and a half ago. Oh what a hapless pair you made. Two strangers bound in this tight knit bond of befuddlement.

"Can you speak?" He pushed for you to give him something.

You nodded, trailing the curve of his jaw with your gaze. If you had to guess his profession, you'd pick lumberjack. That made the most sense as to why he found himself standing at the foot of your grave trying to help you escape it.

Although you supposed he might have just been on a stroll through the woods; seeking time to himself. An escape from the busy world above ground. You peered into his clouded hazel eyes - plucking what you could from her expressions alone. This was a man who didn't seem drastically horrified by the sight of you coming back to life. Rather lost in murky thoughts of how.

Again the aforementioned question you loathed answering left his plush lips.

"Who did this to you?"

Sighing, you felt the blood begin to rush to your legs, a tingle of awareness entering your system. You were coming back from the state of rigor mortis. Which meant that stick around here would no longer be an option. As much as you were inclined to entertain the idea of getting to know him, the reality was far too bleak for him to accept.

He was a mere human, you were something else. It would never work.

“What’s your name?”

Agitation clearly lined his nerves the longer he crouched beside you. He’d never receive the knowledge he wanted, never get to the bottom of this otherwise grueling mystery. The longer you stayed, the harder it would be to leave. Putting him out of his misery now was the only option you had.

The only one that might guarantee his safety.

“Please. Let me help you.” His sincerity struck your heart, causing it to twist until the jagged edge of pain spread through your entire body.

They always sounded this way.

Hopeful. Intrigued.

Too many people, too many broken souls.

The path of your existence was littered with unsalvageable pieces of those you allowed to wander into your life. You refused to say goodbye to someone who clutched your love too tightly. Who never understood what this meant—the horrid depth of what you were forced to endure. You’d never be able to find freedom in love, never find hope that things might one day be different.

Eventually your curse would kill them in the end. And you—the sole survivor—would be left to pick up the fragmented shards of your armored walls.

With a pained groan you stumbled to your feet—legs shaking like a fucking fawn right after birth. He shot up beside you, hands outstretched in case you collapsed. But after so many years, you’d grown used to the sensations of a body that fought against you. The sight of him made you grin; a man so large, so imposing, somehow looked small compared to your mangled body.

Oh, how you’d remember him.

Tucking his kindness into the depths of your heart—fondly looking at it more often than you’d ever admit.

Dragging the leather jacket off your shoulders—much to his dismay—you tucked it back into his grasp. For a brief moment, you traced the shape of his eyes with your gaze. Solidifying the hazel in your mind, the hints of dark umber speckled through the iris. Eyes that would haunt you for years to come.

You wanted to ask what caused him such anguish—what had he been through—to hold an unfathomable amount of grief in eyes so tender.

“Thank you,” you whispered, the unbearable scratch in your throat dissipating the longer you were alive.

“Wait–”

With surprising quickness, you walked past him, trembling with each step. Your stomach gnawed at your insides—the vacant sensation in your body determined your next course of action. Where you were heading with no need for direction.

This wasn’t unusual. Hours spent in the ground was bound to force your body to find its sustenance one way or another. Even if you weren’t technically alive. The adrenaline would wane, leaving you rattled—in a panic about the way your soul plunged into an infinite expanse of darkness. A place with no path.

Over the decades you managed to get a handle on your body;s tells. The routine it formulated to deal with the ancient magic coursing through your veins. Sparks of a past self never to be touched again; no matter how much you bargained.

Heavy footsteps trailed after you, entirely unaware that silence wasn’t his forte. He still clutched the jacket aimlessly, unaware that the temperature dropped rapidly the longer he remained outside. You’d grown used to the behaviors of men who found you. Their incessant need to follow, to see if they could get away with what they wanted.

The same fucking song and dance; a battle you learned to evade swiftly and without mercy.

You stuck to the carved pathway created by your own footsteps trekking the same ground over the span of many years. Those who worked this deep in the forest rarely stuck around to find out who dared to live this far away from humanity. Many assumed an old psychotic woman, man, or spirit, resided in the run-down cabin.

Others whispered of a witch cursed to roam in darkness for all eternity.

Though both were merely myths spread by bored townsfolk.

You often wondered what they would do if they found out that neither strayed far from the actual truth.

Each year that came and went people dared themselves to check—to see for themselves if the stories held a bit of authenticity to them. They more often than not, left scared out of their wits at the sight of a naked woman trailing dirt in across the threshold of an archaic home.

Your shadow persisted in his personal mission—five feet away, lumbering through the silent forest like a bear with no real direction. Scaring him off should have been your first priority. You knew the longer you sanctioned this behavior the harder it’d be to get him to fuck off.

Although you couldn’t deny the instantaneous attachment you felt for a man with such a tortured soul.

Perhaps some part of yourself could see the fragments that went missing harbored in his heart.

Like a fool, you continued on the familiar trail—giving yet another aimless person leeway in your life. Regret hung heavy in your heart—a promise of what would inevitably come to pass screaming in the icy air.

Your breath forms a cloud with each puff; the exertion far too much for your freshly revived body to handle. Later when you were adjusted once more, the remorse would return within each stiff joint that pleaded for an ounce of rest. Whether you wanted to partake in the act never remained up to you—rather an inescapable future that awaited you with open arms.

The cabin stood on the remnants of an old cemetery. Bits of cracked stones that once housed names were scattered around the front. Moss clung to walls built of worn in bricks that had seen better days. You liked each part of your home. The haunting beauty that kept others out, gave you the solace you needed on days like this. Here you could pretend you were a normal person, not someone stuck with the scars of wounds that never remained.

Of pain you held no proof of.

The path was lined with plants of varying species. None of them should have survived the weather in Canada, yet like you they persisted.

Just as fucking stubborn and determined to remain alive.

Kicking a loose stone over, you reached for the rusting iron key lodged into damp dirt. The man stopped speaking long before he followed you here. Probably coming to the same conclusion they all did. You were not going to listen to a single thing that came out of his mouth.

You had to hand it to him. He knew where he stood in a situation like this—given your relatively calm exterior.

The door creaked with a weathered groan as you pushed it open. A bag of grave dirt hung on a nail in the wall to your left, an old shovel stood propped against the entryway, and a trail of dried herbs were suspended from the ceiling. You inhaled the scent of home with a grin; finally at ease within the place you knew well. A line of hooks held blankets for this very situation—heavy wool lined coats beside them.

Instead of grabbing one, you reached for what was still tucked in the pocket. The thud of his boots against the front step echoed loud in your ear. That seemed to be all you needed to hear the warning bells signal in the back of your mind. Allowing him to shadow you had been fun, but the truth still glared in your direction.

You didn’t know this man—you never would.

Better safe than sorry.

Spinning your heel, you jammed the silver dagger against his throat, forcing him to stumble back. His hands clutched at your wrists, eyes wide with the shock of what just happened. You didn’t want to admit that a small part of you liked seeing him this way. Yet no fear could be found in the darkened hazel. Merely a hint of concern—pity.

That only served to piss you off. He dared to follow you home, thinking he could enter your house without permission. In such a case as this you faced him with the fire that fueled your inhumane rage. The match struck against your heart, igniting sparks that existed long before he was ever born.

“You’re not welcome here,” you spit, eyes narrowed and lips pulled into a snarl.

He held every right to look at you as if you were a feral animal he accidentally cornered. You knew you resembled one. Right down to your hackles being raised—bloodlust burning in your glare. If he wasn’t careful, he would wind up with a split open throat and you’d have one hell of a mess to clean.

“I’m not gonna hurt ya,” he murmured.

“You followed me home.”

Swallowing thickly, Logan felt an old familiar ache rise in his chest at the sight of you. He’d been where you stood once. Desperate to be left alone; angry at a world who abandoned him. The thought of you believing the worst in him left bile climbing the back of his throat, shame burning hot in his stomach.

“Just wanted to see if you were okay.”

You grinned yet a dullness remained at the center of your eyes. “I’m alive. You can go.”

“You crawled out of a grave,” he growled.

Only to be met with one of your own. “No shit.”

“You live alone.” The knife pressed down against his skin, red welling to the surface in an instant. “Who put you there?”

“That’s none of your fucking business.”

You held no reservations against cutting him open. You’d done it before and would do it again in a heartbeat. Logan could see that clear as day. This wasn’t about him attempting to help. He’d surpassed that half a mile ago when you began to walk it off like you knew what was happening. And perhaps he was stupid to keep standing there in a pathetic attempt to tame you.

But he needed to know what happened.

Simply for the sake of his own sanity.

“I won’t hurt you bub,” he echoed, releasing your wrists with a soft exhale. “That’s not why I came.”

The anger dulled like the blade of your knife at the sound of his voice. Putting your faith in someone to uphold their words wasn’t something you excelled at. In fact, you found it was easier to bite first before you even bothered to bark at them. A feral animal who held no sense of safety—who thrived in bitter chaos and would until the very end.

But for the first time…you found yourself unable to fight against someone who stood before you like a mirror from a past life. The anguish in his eyes resembled your own. A fractured window that spilled light along the darkness, even if it didn’t belong. Even if you were born to exist in the vacant nothingness they put you in.

“Help me out here,” he murmured.

Before you could silence it, you laughed. Short and stunted and still layered in the gritty rasp from earlier.

“Fuck you.”

He sighed, stepping forward—his throat opening even further. You expected him to flinch, cuss loud enough to scare the varying corvid that often perched in the trees, but all that remained was that damn sincerity. The echo of a man who you somehow understood exactly what ran through your mind even before you let him in on the secret.

Logan kept his eyes locked on yours, even when his body screamed for something else. He wasn’t a stranger to having a blade to his throat, nor to violence in general. But even with the intent of killing him clear in your gaze, he knew something else stirred beneath the surface of your mind. He latched onto the quick pace of your heart, clamoring for a deeper look behind the walls of your impenetrable armor.

“I know what it’s like.” Your eyes went wide for a brief second before you resumed your previous stance. That remained enough for Logan to feel he touched on exactly the right thing.

“You don’t know anything.”

“Believe me bub,” he retorted, lips curling into a half-hearted grin. “I know what not dying feels like. Even if you want to.”

The breath was punched from your lungs, body going still as the waves of disbelief washed over you. He grasped your wrist gently, prying the knife from his throat, and you watched his skin stitch itself back together. The only remnants of your violent act was left in a stain of red he promptly wiped off.

You had half a mind to try again. Test the proof he so blatantly showed you without an ounce of shame. He seemed to catch onto your interest quicker than you expected—his palm spreading wide beneath yours and hand forcing the blade along his skin. A gasp fell past your lips at the sight of his body healing rapidly—the cut nonexistent within seconds.

Logan felt pride pierce his chest. Unfamiliar and yet entirely welcome.

“How…”

“I’ll explain it bub,” he uttered, drawing your attention back to him. “If you tell me the truth.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

He huffed, moving close enough to feel the warmth emanate from your bare skin. “I’m pretty good at spottin’ bullshit. Someone put you in that grave.”

“Yes.” Blindly you reached for a jacket behind you, slipping it on as his eyes took in the small bits of your home he could see. “I did.”

His head snapped back to you, lips set in a firm line. “What do you mean you did?”

“It’s a long story.” You waved your hand as you tied the jacket’s belt around your waist.

“I got enough time to hear it.”

Turning back towards the entryway of your home, you didn’t bother to bite back the smile that bloomed across your face. Somewhere in the back of your mind the voices of years past shrieked in horror at the choices made in the past hour.

How could you drag another soul into the darkness? Torture them with the duress of your life—of what you were forced to endure. Was it merely to appease the growing ache of loneliness that gnawed at your heart. A constant hunger you could never satiate.

He didn’t deserve what came next.

No one did.

But you were a selfish person who had tolerated far too much—who gave up every piece of your heart to keep others safe. For years you claimed you were better off alone. Only for the sight of his ability to fracture that part of yourself in two, burying it in a shallow grave with the hopes of no resurrection.

One day you’d come to regret your choice. You always did.

Tonight however you would give yourself this. Time spent in the company of another, even if it might end in a tragic disaster.

“Would you like some dinner?” you asked over your shoulder, too afraid of what his response might be.

His lips pulled into a grin as he crossed the threshold of your home—placing his jacket on the now vacant hook. “I’d love some.”

note: i handwrote a giant portion of this & proceeded to type it on my brother's laptop. so if there's mistakes forgive that. i don't have a laptop rn and i'm working with literal scraps.

[strawberri-blonde]

01 - Handjob - Neteyam

01 - handjob : happy kinktober!

Summary: You greet Neteyam after training and he looks too good not to be given a handjob.

Warning: Literally said in the summary handjob, but there’s also kissing, nipple play other heavy petting.

Masterlist

In the healing chamber, the sweet melodies of your humming mingle with the rhythmic symphony of the mortar and pestle in your skilled hands. Though preparing herbs can be demanding, you approach it with unwavering purpose. Guided by the teachings of the tribe's healers, you expertly identify and distinguish the beneficial herbs for treating various ailments. Mint, Nolina, and other carefully selected spices are ground and blended, fragrant filling the air. This healing ointment soothes inflammation, heals wounds, and relieves headaches and stress.

You diligently grind and crush the herbs patiently and precisely, transforming them into a fine paste. As you create the solution that will serve as medicine for your people, you embrace this sacred duty with utmost dedication. Yet, amidst the laborious process, you find joy. The delightful aroma of the crushed and ground herbs envelops your senses, bringing a sense of fulfillment and contentment.

Lost in the sight of your finished work, your attention was solely consumed by the paste, causing you to unintentionally miss the approach of Mo'at. The revered tsahík of the Omatikaya, also known as the clan's spiritual leader and the beloved grandmother of Neteyam, your mate, gracefully made her way towards you from behind.

Feeling her warmth and powerful embrace, you tilted your head to the woman. "Tsahík, I finished all the work that you had requested to be done for the upcoming hunting season." The older woman offered you a smile before nestling herself to your side.

Mo'at gazes upon the meticulously crushed herbs, her eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of pride. Your dedication and skill shine through, evident in the quality of your work. A warm smile graces her face as she nods approvingly. "You've truly outdone yourself, dear," she praises, her gaze shifting towards you. She gently transfers the paste into a nearby jar, ensuring its safekeeping. A sense of accomplishment and connection envelops the room as she touches your shoulder.

Slowly cleaning up your area, you turned to Mo'at with a smile. "Thank you, Mo'at. You're a wonderful mentor, and I'm grateful for the wisdom you share with me."

Mo'at's smile radiates warmth as she nods in affirmation. "Guiding our people and sharing my wisdom is my sacred duty. I have imparted my teachings to you with great care, dear, and I will continue to do so, just as I would with my daughter." Her hands rest gently on your shoulders as she leans in for a heartfelt embrace. The delicate scent of herbs lingers on her clothes and hair. With a tender gaze, Mo'at encourages you, "Now, go forth, for my grandson awaits for you after his training. Make your way to him and continue on your path." As she turns to depart, your purpose fulfilled, a sense of gratitude and determination fills the air.

You finish up what you were doing in the tent and look out to see the sun is more than halfway out of the sky. You decide to head to the training grounds, which is probably where Neteyam will be, as Mo'at suggested. You take your time and enjoy the outdoors, breathing in the fresh air of Pandora. You reach the training grounds and see several Na'vi kids practicing their skills. You spot Neteyam in the crowd with his fellow Omaticaya clan members. He is in the middle of a fight with another warrior, trading blows and kicks back and forth. You settle in to watch, amazed with how the lowing sun rays looked on his skin.

For a fleeting moment, your eyes fill with delight as you witness Neteyam's athletic body gracefully move under the sunlight. A magnetic attraction pulls at your heartstrings as you observe his fluid and precise movements. Each powerful punch and kick he delivers to his opponent captivates your attention.

As the wind gently tousles Neteyam's micro braids, the sun illuminates his muscular physique. With a forceful push, he drives his adversary backward, landing a flawless kick to the warrior's chest, causing him to stumble and fall. In that victorious moment, Neteyam's gaze meets yours, and he playfully winks, acknowledging your presence.

A rush of warmth engulfs you like wildfire as a glimmer in Neteyam's eyes reveals his carefree and playful nature. However, ever the respectful man, he swiftly redirects his attention to his companion, offering a nod of respect and admiration. The air crackles with anticipation as your body seems to get hotter.

Your sweet mate nods you off, making you smile softly, understanding that he had to finish up loose ends before he could leave. You watch with pride as Neteyam finishes his practice with his fellow warriors, seeing him bow respectfully towards the group.

You lean in closer as the sunlight bounces off the sweat on his skin and highlights his defined muscles. You gulped as those honeycomb orbs stared back at you with a smile. Neteyam then moves his body to make him look almost graceful as he glides through the crowd of people to reach you. You feel your heart beating faster as you watch him with pride, your feelings of admiration and desire towards him deepening.

Neteyam approaches you, his broad and muscular frame filling your field of vision. He wraps his strong arms around you, embracing you tightly. You inhale deeply, taking in the masculine scent of his body and enjoying the feeling of his arms around you. "Hello, my yawne," he murmurs softly, nuzzling his face into yours. "I missed you," he says, his voice filled with love and affection. He presses his lips gently against your forehead in an intimate gesture. You feel your heart racing and your stomach flipping as love and desire rise within you.

"I've missed you even more," you whisper, rising on your tiptoes to capture Neteyam's eager lips. Surprised momentarily, he swiftly regains his composure, enveloping you in a tight embrace and returning the kiss with intensified passion. Your hands grasp onto his glistening chest, finding comfort in the touch of his meticulously crafted cummerbund, a symbol of your unbreakable bond since the day he soared through the skies on his Ikran with you as his trusted companion. You presented it to him during the early stages of courtship, a gesture that holds deep meaning for both of you. Neteyam wouldn't have it any other way. You were and always will be his beloved.

The warrior pulls away, burying his face in your hair and kissing your neck and collarbones. His warm tongue leaves a trail of desire behind. Whispering in your ear, he playfully says, "Didn't realize you missed me that much, but who am I to complain?"

You drown out the onlookers, reveling in the attention as they witness the bond between you and Neteyam. Their gazes confirm that you belong to each other.

So, you ignore the world as Neteyam's lips slowly explore your body. Hot and deliberate breaths caress your skin, while his words of affection fill your ear. Lost in pleasure, you moan and bury your face in his neck, savoring every touch. You yearn to be consumed by him, to lose yourself entirely in the intoxicating haze of desire. The world can wait, the tribe can wait, but the feeling of Neteyam cannot.

You pushed slightly at his chest and stared at him with understanding, lust-filled eyes. "Follow me." Your breath catches in your throat, and your cheeks burn with passion.

Neteyam grins down at you, a glimmer in his eyes. "Lead the way," he says, his voice low and sexy. You take his hand and lead him away, your body shaking with nerves and excitement. You look over your shoulder at him, giving him a seductive smile before continuing.

Your heart races as his fingers slip around yours, and he follows you, his body so close to yours that you can almost feel his breath on your neck. You're unsure what you're about to do, but it's hard to ignore the urge inside you. You bring him to a secluded spot underneath a towering tree. You look around, realizing no one else is present, but you don't care if you have an audience. you lean close to Neteyam. "I want you," you whisper seductively, pulling him closer.

Your heart races as his muscles flex underneath his skin, guiding him against the massive trunk adorned with crawling vines. The vines bear large greenish/purple leaves half the length of your body. Some leaves even find their way underneath the both of you as your lips meld together in a fierce and passionate kiss. The exotic foliage surrounds you, the rustling leaves adding to the moment's intensity. With each touch and caress, your desire grows, your bodies entwined in a dance of passion and longing. As you both pull away, breathless and dizzy, the hunger in your eyes speaks volumes of the desire that still burns between you.

Your hands fiddle with the leather cummerbund, slipping it off his body to feel his strong muscles. And Neteyam couldn't help but lean down to continue to kiss you. His tongue explores the depths of your mouth as you become lost in the sensations. You passionately kiss him, your lips sliding and dancing with his with each movement. In the distance, you can hear the sounds of the clan.

But your mind only seemed to focus on two things. Neteyam's lips on yours and your hands. They genuinely had a sense of their own as they reached the slightly hardened cock. The warrior groaned deeply into your mouth, sending vibrations down your throat as you squeezed the clothed member. "Fuck, Y/n, you just don't even realize what you do to me."

You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement as you playfully nibbled on his bottom lip, your fingers still fumbling with his growing member. Pressing him closer against the sturdy tree, you couldn't resist teasingly remarking, "Let me see then?"

Neteyam is surprised at your bold comment but doesn't resist or deny you. "Anything for my beautiful girl. " His lips parted slightly as he smiled and nodded at you. His expression hints at mischief; you know you are in for an amazing experience. "Go on, muntxate. What are you waiting for?" You reach for the waist ties of his loincloth, fumbling with it for a moment before it gives way. With a satisfied grin on your face, you pull the garment down. You look down at what is now presented to you and feel a wave of desire wash over you. Neteyam smiles at you seductively as you begin to explore his length.

"That's my girl," he whispered, his lips meeting yours in a passionate yet fleeting kiss. Pulling away, you couldn't help but gaze down at his member. With a firm grip, you slowly slid your hand up his shaft, marveling at the sight before you. His length nearly reached the entirety of your forearm, and as your thumb caressed the pulsating vein at the base, it disappeared beneath the light pink tip. The sight left you with a mouthwatering anticipation.

"Love your cock Teyam." Neteyam lets out a growl, grabbing your jaw in his hand as you gain eye contact. "I love you." His lips pressed against yours eagerly, and you kissed him back with equal force.

He lowers his hands to the lower of your back, with one cupping your butt and the other around your tail, keeping you firmly wedged against his warm body. You reached between the both of you, taking him in the palms of your hands, jerking his dick while twisting your wrists cohesively.

You feel Neteyam's strong body tense as your hands continue to work his throbbing cock. Groans escaped his wet lips, causing you to feel electricity spark through your skin.

"Yawne, fuck, I love you." He mumbles as you pull away from his lips to kiss along his jaw. Feeling your lips kissing the sensitive areas of his skin, the warrior couldn't help but thrust it into your hands. "You're driving me crazy."

You giggle out, kissing him, applying an open-mouth kiss on his lips, moving back down towards his nest, trailing towards his chest, reaching his nipples. "I like driving you crazy." Neteyam didn't have time to reply as you kitten licked his nipples, earning an immediate response.

His breathing became fast, and his cock twitched and throbbed in your palms. Precum leaked from his sensitive tip, making your stroking much more accessible and allowing you to fast your jerk motions. "Fuck, yawne, so fucking," your swollen lips wrapped around his nipple, sucking hard, twirling the sensitive bud in your warm mouth. "Y/n, my good girl." He tugged on your tail, making you clench your thighs together from the growing need you were experiencing from hearing his heavenly moans.

His hand left my soft bottom to tangle his fingers in your braids. Your eyes looked up from sucking on his chest to see his eyes closed and mouth ajar. Knowing that you were making your mate feel good, you couldn't help but feel prideful.

You pulled away from his chest slightly to look down at his swollen cock. Your strokes increased, and his thrust quickened. "You're so hot, Neteyam. So grateful you’re mine." You moaned out, noticing how tense his abs and upper legs seemed to be getting.

"Yours, baby girl." Neteyam panted out, leaning his head against the bark, feeling the ecstasy of the pleasure he felt from your hand working on him. You jerked his entire length while flickering your wrists, squeezing so tight. "Since the moment I met you, muntxate." A broken groan left his throat as one of your hands dropped toward his balls, giving them a little attention. "Make me feel as good."

"Good," you whispered, your lips eagerly seeking his once more, unable to resist the overwhelming desire. The knowledge that he was nearing his peak only fueled your passion further. "I adore bringing you pleasure, Nete. My powerful and loving partner. It's exhilarating to know I'm the only one to witness you in this state." Your words carried a seductive tone directed straight toward his arousal.

His hands tightened around your tail, and his fingers tugged on your roots as his movements quickened animalistic into your hand as you continued to jerk his cock. His kisses became messier, and his whimpers escaped his throat, allowing you to swallow them. You felt him shudder underneath you.

"Y-y/n, fuck." Neteyam's words weren't coherent as he spilled his cum all over your hands and stomach, painting you in white ribbons. Feeling the warm liquid litter your skin, you didn't stop jerking until Neteyam's hand slipped its hold on you to place them on your tired wrists.

You feel Neteyam's hands slowly and gently caressing your wrists, the soft touches driving you wild with desire. You lean against him to keep him close, unable to get enough of him. He kisses you slowly again, dragging it out for as long and passionately as possible. The feeling of his soft and warm lips on yours sends electric impulses through your body.

Your heart races, and you feel the blood coursing quickly through your veins. "So good to me, muntxate,"

You smile seductively at him, your body tingling and your mouth warm. The air is heavy with lust and desire but also joy and love. You are happy to have found Neteyam, and he is pleased to have found you. "Gonna reward you for being a good girl." You giggled as you brought your hands to your face to lick them clean of Neteyam's salty goodness.

"You really are going to kill me, Y/n." Collecting the rest of the cum that painted your stomach, you can't imagine being with anyone else, and you are so happy to be his.

How do we like the first post for Kinktober 2023? feedback is much appreciated!!!

~ Caroline

[lightning-etc-lord]

She's under the best care.

Jrh exchange kids for a day. Jingyuan gets silver wolf ^^

[witch-of-the-writing-desk]

WIP 01 Alastor's Road Trip.

Summary: Alastor leave for a hunting trip to capture and eat a legendary deer that has an interesting side effect (This was supposed to be a PWP fic with Alastor and reader/OC who is basically Hachishaku sama)

It was early morning in the pride ring, as the sky was still a dark red. Alastor was driving along a road leaving Pentagram city, his destination a hunting lodge. The lodge called Artemis Game reserve and sporting goods; The most diverse game reserve in all of hell truly a sportsman paradise at least that's what it says on the brochure. What better way to spend his vacation than enjoying the splendor of the great outdoors.

As Alastor drove along the road he started to take in the sights. He was definitely wasn't in Pentagram city anymore ,and just started to cross the third circle of Pride. To jazz up his road trip literally he had grabbed one of his favorite things of the modern age. A cassette tape he had several of them in fact. It was Niffty who'd introduced him to the splendid little treasures, like records they had an side A and side B. And the best part was he'd could play music in his car with out commercials genius. Now the greats of the Jazz age were in the palm of his hand, like his favorite Cab Callaway. He popped it in the cassette player pushed play and Cab's voice filled the truck the song the "Between devil and the deep blue Sea".

Tapping along to the instrumental on the steering wheel, alastor started to take a look at the sights route 666 is supposed to be lovely this time of year.

@an-idyllic-novelist @forbidden-sunlight @amusingmusie

[absentmindedadmirer]

Twisted Wonderland Word Association Drabbles Pt. 1

I wanted to practise writing Twst characters and stuff so I made a little game by using a random word generator and spinning a wheel to see what twst chara to attribute it to.

So... ===

01.           Burn || Malleus 

Malleus thought was familiar with the sensation.  It was simple enough to raze the forest he ran off to in his childhood, green flames flickering as it ate up dry branches. Fire warmed his face as he held it at his fingertips. His senses were used to it: the smell of ashes, the sight of wickers of the fire eating up everything it could, the feel of the flames dancing on his fingertips. He scarcely burned himself while performing spells now.  He remembered when pushing a stool over to the cauldron that Lilia was stirring some meal in. The smell wafted into his nose as he felt the heat steam onto his cheeks as he clambered on the stool and stood overhead the pot. Lilia, who was over at the cutting board, long hair tied in a ponytail, held his hand out when he noticed Malleus, yet Malleus didn’t hear what it was before he felt pain shoot through his fingers as they came into contact with scalding metal. He wound his arm back immediately, tears springing in his eyes, as black and pink hair flitted over him as Lilia grabbed his hand, uttering reassurances that Malleus would be alright.  So he was familiar with the sensation of burning.  Or so he thought.  As he walked through Night Raven College. Not many people acknowledged him; those who did ended up shrinking away and pretending to have not seen him. It felt cold.  However as he passed through the corridor, he saw the Ramshackle dorm leader, surrounded on both arms by those two Heartsabyul underclassmen, as the first years were so glued to the hip. When their eyes met Malleus, they refused to shy away like many people had. Instead, they waved over to him.  “Hey! Tsunataro-!” They turned to him and smiled brightly at him and Malleus felt his heart jump. Heat crept up into his face. …And he discovered a sensation of burning that he never felt before. 

02. Tree || Rook

Leona cracked an eye open to see metal glint off of the tip of an arrow, loaded on a crossbow, aimed right at his nose.  He grunted, annoyed, but before he could pull on it and throw it as far as he could– the faint rustling over his head, the same that woke him up, stopped. And a deafening crack snapped Leona’s other eye open. Blonde hair  littered with leaves and mud and limbs  went plummeting to the ground. The heap of the ground shook as Leona heard a familiar crazed laugh.  “Haha, I almost got you~!”  Green eyes shimmered in the sunlight as Rook Hunt smiled at him. 

03. Wild || Jamil

“Yo, Jamil!” Ruggie Bucchi had waved his hand in greeting to him and Jamil was so close to walking off but the guy had made his way next to him. It wasn’t bad to talking to Bucchi, the two seemed to connect over the pain of looking over royals but Jamil would rather just not interact with people in general.  “Heard you and Kalim went babysitting his siblings back at Scalding Sands. How did that go-?” Jamil sighed. He only just came back from that with as many migraines as Kalim’s siblings numbered.  “All in all, horrid.” He looked off to the side as he recounted, “ I had to prevent 18 housefires, stop 5 chandeliers from being demolished, 27 vases from being knocked over and 34 instances of crayon on the walls.”  Ruggie laughed– a hyena indeed as Jamil felt mocked by Bucchi’s pure glee in his misery.  “Man, that’s wild.  I’m glad Leona doesn’t have any siblings to look after. Cheka mostly follows him or Leona hands them over to the Heartsabyul kids.” Ruggie held his arms behind his head as he whistled, “Children sure are tough to deal with, huh~?”  “Oh no.” Jamil scoffed. “That was all Kalim.”  And Ruggie laughed louder. 

04.         Jar || Azul

“I foresee  a business venture.” Azul’s voice was tinged in anticipation and Jade noticed his glasses flash. He, along with his brother turned to see what Azul had sought out,  to see ginger hair bouncing around as Cater Diamond hummed, tapping hurriedly at his phone.  “You really can make a business venture out of seemingly nothing.”  “Ooh~ Can you make something out of this then, Azul?” Floyd held up a jar of an unidentified substance. It was nearly black and neither liquid nor fully solid.  “What is that?” Azul looked away from his business prospect (supposedly) to look at the thing in disgust.  “Stuff I pulled out of the shower drain.” Floyd looked bored while saying it, looking away with a frustrated look in his eyes. Meanwhile, Azul screeched. “Why do you have that?!” 

05.         Mercy || Idia

“NOO-!”  Idia’s  fingers scraped across the stone flooring, to no avail because of how little they were of a grip, all chewed and uneven.  Two hands grabbed at his ankles as they pulled in opposite directions like how one would split a piece of string cheese.  “Oh, come on! I take really good pics-!” Cater pulled on Idia’s right foot. His shoes were already gone, he had lost them trying to crawl away from them the first time.  “I brush my little siblings’ hair all the time!! I can do yours for sure-!” His left foot was being pulled by Kalim as he tried to assure Idia of his ‘experience’.  “You two don’t have to do anything. I will make sure it looks acceptable.” Vil said in an even tone and Idia remembered when he first approached Idia, saying that he wanted to use him as a model for a client who was asking to model longer hair. It was ridiculous, Idia figured he was as  photogenic as a withered raisin.  “That’s not fair, you said if we got him, we could help-!” His voice lowered as he muttered, “Could get in some nice pics during that too.”  “Yeah-! I can totally do a good job!” Kalim asserted and Idia felt the two arms lug him away. This was as outrageous a kidnapping as a comedy anime with 3/5 stars.  “Now, come on, Idia.”  Idia’s nose hit the ground as he dragged across the floor. He numbly calculated the time it would take for him to gain the event SSR in a game he picked up a few weeks ago. He was ridiculously attached to one of its characters and he would die to get the event card. Crunching the hours, AP, energy, he thought of the time he would lose having Kalim curl his hair …He was going to miss the card by 5000 points.  Someone have mercy on him. 

=== Whwhwhw it was fun I think. I kinda want to practise more with these goofballs, so if you want to request the first word that comes to the top of your head and/or a character, please do!!

Sketchie's Fandom Archives || Writing Masterlist

[tina-mairin-goldstein]

First and Last Line Tag

Rules- In a new post the first and last lines of the last ten fics you posted.

I was tagged by @sarcasticsciencefictionwriter. Thanks!

(First lines are green, last are blue, pick whatever colors you like)

1)Caraval

Social interactions of any kind were not Will Graham's strong suit.

Leaving Hannibal trapped outside, with whatever was making Winston howl.

2)Try to Change the Ending

Long before Kaecilius had ever set foot in Kamar-Taj, she had seen him.

She smiled and sank into him, standing with him, watching the snow.

3)Untangled

Even in a world with a magic, there were tales of mystical, powerful things, things beyond your average wizard.

Hopefully they would catch up in time.

4)Brumal

There was life in the Underworld, though some might not believe it.

But until midnight, the world, the winter, was theirs.

5)The Kissing Bough

Theseus had said a speech would be easy, after saving the world.

"Those two are certainly going to need more nudges than this down the road..."

6)His Shadow Suspended on Dust

It had taken him a long time, but he had finally done it.

Jack Crawford would never give up the hunt.

7)Estivel

He was the only one who noticed the corruption.

This was what he had been born for, and he accepted the beauty of it without once looking back.

8) Autumnal

He craved the sunlight and all that came with it.

And that certainly made up for the price of godhood.

9)Fragments

Normally, Will Graham appreciated the sounds of nature, the sounds of absolute silence, while he fished.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Will."

10)Haven't Been the Same (Since I Expired)

The day after the election for the International Confederation of Wizards, blood ran in the dungeons of Nurmengard.

His enemies were still out there, after all.

Okay, I wasn't going to link them all, but anyone interested can find them on my AO3 account Tina-Mairin-Goldstein. No pressure tagging @keepmeinmind-01, @inastarlesssky, and @pragnificent and anyone else who wants to play can consider themselves tagged.

[itsuki-minamy]

"AYAKA – SIDE STORIES 01" (Part 02/04)

BROTHERS 02: KURAMA HARUAKI & JINGI SAGAWA

TRANSLATION: NARU-KUN

* List of Chapters

An Aramitama was crying.

While spinning like a tornado, he would swing his eight arms and destroy whatever he hit.

It was like a storm of malice that cut fields, felled trees and stone walls. The constant roar of the wind sounded like a scream of agony.

Poor thing.

Kurama Haruaki feels helpless pity for the supernatural beings that wreak destruction.

A block of stone was blown by the wind from the Aramitama, brushed the hem of his hunting clothes and hit the railing behind him. Steel railings were smashed into dogleg shapes and stones were smashed to pieces. With that behind him, Kurama stepped forward.

"Oh, pathetic vitality that has become stagnant and polluted. I will exorcise your suffering."

And Kurama crossed his arms.

"Between heaven and earth, empty and endless, move and finally come out."

The Aramitama turned to him.

Red eyes glued to the raging wind widened. The vitality that floated in the surroundings moved towards Kurama as if it was drawn to him. It became the current of the atmosphere, the wind, and began to revolve around Kurama.

An Aramitama has no intelligence. However, instinctively, the Aramitama recognized Kurama's vitality as "something that makes it difficult for him to exist". Extending his eight arms, the Aramitama rushed towards Kurama with the force of a hurricane.

The golden fan was flung open.

To hide his mouth, Kurama turned his fan forward. The gold-rimmed key shone faintly in the sunlight. Kurama swung the fan from right to left, like a good dancer dancing for a moment.

The Aramitama's charge drifted far to the left.

Caught by the hand of an invisible giant, the Aramitama began to spin around Kurama as if he was being forced. He stretched out his eight arms and struggled to grab hold of Kurama's body, but was never able to escape Kurama's path.

Kurama kept dancing. He was also spinning on the spot, pulling his legs, stretching his arms, and swinging the fan constantly.

Kurama was now producing a large tornado. When he turned, the atmosphere changed, and the wind from the Aramitama turned into a tornado entangled in a tornado. The eight arms that were in front of Kurama gradually lost their strength, and began to sway as if they were responding to Kurama's fans and enjoying dancing in the wind.

"Nothing is called the beginning of heaven and earth, existence is called the mother of all things."

When Kurama chanted that spell, the entire tornado began to glow pale gold. The flowing vitality eliminated the Aramitama's stagnant vitality and he was about to eliminate it. Aramitama himself, as if pleased by this, extended his eight arms and pointed them towards the sky.

A golden glow enveloped the Aramitama.

Eight arms stretched out into the sky, the red eyes caught in the center turned into golden bubbles and melted in midair. Like a receding wind, the golden bubbles rose up in a tornado and were sucked into the heavens.

Before long, Kurama stopped dancing.

Nothing was left behind. You couldn't even feel the sway of a gentle breeze. A veil of tranquility fell everywhere.

Kurama raised his face.

His usual calm expression had returned. He closed the golden fan with a snap and returned it to his pocket.

As if on cue, a young man jumped from the railing of the embankment.

"Hey, Haru-nii. Are you done?"

Jingi waved his hand slightly with his usual sloppy face. Kurama let out a small sigh and looked up as if to reproach him for such an act of kindness.

"You're too late, Jingi. I finished everything."

"Ok, then, originally it wasn't a job two people could do."

"That's right. It's a job you should do alone."

When he said it without hesitation, Jingi was unable to answer and remained silent. Kurama slowly climbed onto the bench, one step at a time, a smile on his face.

"In the first place, you're the one who said that you wanted to appease the Mitama because you needed money, so why did I come earlier?"

"No, well, that's... a lot happened. I helped an old lady who was in trouble on the road."

"Hmm. Where is she from? I have to say hello later."

"......"

Kurama was smiling. It wasn't that he was angry. He has been seeing his brother like this for over ten years. It's not that kind of relationship that will make you angry, shocked or abandon him.

But where it must be pressed, it must be pressed.

Upon reaching the embankment, Kurama tapped him on the shoulder.

"But don't worry, Jingi. You still have work to do."

"What is it...?"

Kurama turned around. A desolate field stretches there. Fortunately, it was fallow land, so there was no crop damage.

"It must be hard for the people in this house to clean up after themselves. Please help me with that, Jingi."

"......"

Jingi made a very unpleasant face. He knows this because they have known each other for a long time. The act that this younger brother hates the most is none other than "work". In particular, he thinks that he would be better off dead than doing simple, tedious, persevering work like cleaning up afterward.

Of course, Kurama doesn't care about such things. If you want compensation, you have to work for it.

"Then please, I'll give it to you, Jingi."

"Oh, I'm coming!

Shouting as if he had given up, Jingi went down the embankment. Kurama nodded in satisfaction when he saw her back.

++++++++++

"This is the last time!"

He threw the large stone caught in the field back into the original river bed and it collapsed on the spot.

His entire body was drenched in sweat, and while he was out of breath, Jingi wiped the sweat from his forehead. He had already taken off his jacket and was only wearing a T-shirt. He covered the areas that could be covered with the pulse patching technique, but all other areas were manual labor. His entire body creaked, telling him that he would definitely have muscle pain tomorrow.

"Haru-nii! It's over, damn it!"

Still crouched, Jingi turned his head and looked toward the bench. Under the sky that was turning redder, Kurama was sitting calmly on the edge of the bench.

"Yes. Thanks for your hard work, Jingi."

Kurama, smiling and drinking tea, looks like a jizo or something. In fact, all around him were rice, vegetables, sake and other offerings, in other words, gifts from the islanders. Kurama, who has appeased many Mitama as the priest of the Kasen Shrine, is very popular among the islanders, and even if he passes through the path, he will receive things.

Standing up and starting up the embankment, Kurama lifted the teapot next to him.

"Would you like some tea? Tomi-san in the back made it for me. I have some for you."

"No, it's okay, I'll have this drink."

Jingi took the four-sided bottle, put it directly into his mouth, and began to drink. The sweet alcohol slid down his throat and his insides heated. He let out a breath and sat down on the spot.

"Ah, I'm tired... or rather, Haru-nii, if you're just looking at me here, please help me."

Kurama smiled slightly.

"I can't do that. It's a devotional job, so I can't get my hands on it."

"If that's the case, there's no point in being here. You should have waited somewhere warmer."

"My brother is working for the first time in a long time. Isn't it your brother's duty to watch over you?"

Jingi sighed quietly. If he was someone other than Kurama, he would have simply pointed out, "You shouldn't be watching, you should be helping". But this brother says it from the bottom of his heart. Look at Jingi with the affection of the family, not with duties and responsibilities.

Precisely because he knows that, Jingi didn't raise his head to Kurama.

Kurama brought his mouth close to the teacup and then looked inside. He looks like he ran out of tea. Kurama suddenly directed his attention to the bottle Jingi was holding and handed him a cup of tea.

"One for me too."

That was fine, Kurama is fresh mouthed. Jingi smiled wryly and tipped the sake bottle.

"Okay."

Totto-totto-, the teacup was filled abundantly while making a pleasant sound. After waiting for the sake to settle down, Kurama took it to his mouth. The white throat moved up and down two or three times, and Kurama let out a satisfied sigh.

"Yes. I like it, it turns me on."

"Is that so? Are you cold?"

"Oh, of course. It's still time for hot sake to be delicious."

Suddenly, the brothers' eyes met. They didn't need words. They nodded to each other, rose to their feet at the same time, and began preparations for withdrawal.

He returned the teapot and teacup to Tomi-san in the back, and for some reason, it was decided that the reward would go to Jingi. It was rare for Jingi to do this kind of simple job, but for some reason, when she got close to Kurama, he turned like this.

"Come on."

Kurama was walking down the sidewalk with Jingi, clutching a four-sided bottle in one hand. His face was slightly drunk, and he had been repeatedly hiccuping for a while now. If other people were doing the same, they'd be sloppy drunks, but when his brother's drunk, there's a happy atmosphere.

"Hey, Haru-nii. It's dangerous, come a little closer."

"Hmm? Oh, that's right. Fufufu, thanks, Jingi."

Kurama smirked as he staggered closer to Jingi. He should have been reasonably strong against alcohol, but it might be because he drank the sake from the teacup in one go. When he was worried about whether he could reach his destination safely, Kurama suddenly took something out of his pocket.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Haru-nii, that..."

"Oh, this? Fufufu, it's alright. Chatarou and Yako chose it. Are you jealous?"

"No, it's just a cell phone, right? Everyone has one."

"Is that so, isn't it? Oh, my, this is so easy to operate!"

"That's because it's for children. It's the first time I've seen a twenty-year-old wearing something like this..."

"Well, it's better to be easy than hard, isn't it? Well, that's it… What are you trying to do?"

Kurama stopped, turned his head and began to think. After that, he suddenly turned his cell phone towards Jingi, pointed at the messaging app.

"Hey, Jingi. What's that red thing in the upper right?"

"What? It means you have unread messages. What's that?!"

"Is incredible?"

"Haru-nii, you didn't reply! Look at this, you've been receiving confirmation messages from Chatarou many times!"

"Chatarou, ah, that's right! I was thinking of telling Chatarou that his job was done! Great, do your best!"

With a bright expression on his face, Kurama patted Jingi's head. Although he was weak, he was willing to accept it.

Kurama looked at his cell phone again. He blinked several times with his eyes wet with alcohol and, for some reason, crouched down with the sake bottle at his feet.

"Well, if you want I'll show you. Click here... then..."

"......"

"Press the white area, then... "F" "O" "R" "C" "H" "A" "T" "A" "R" "O" "U"..."

"......"

"Hmm? Hey, okay? How can I make the "letters" smaller?"

"Don't worry! Lend it to me!"

Jingi grabbed Kurama's cell phone and sent a message to Chatarou at high speed. "I'm done with my work, so I'm going out for a drink. Just do it right away."

No matter how you flip it, it's a line Kurama is unlikely to say, and Chatarou will probably get confused, but that's not what Jingi knows.

"Yes, it's over! That's enough, don't use your cell phone!"

When he handed back Kurama's phone, he clapped for some reason.

"Oh, that's amazing! I'm sorry, Jingi. After all, you are a reliable little brother."

"Oh, I'm not at all happy to be praised for something like this..."

"But is it okay? Maybe it's too soon and it won't arrive properly?"

"Eh?"

Kurama crossed his arms and thought. He's always been fluffy, but now he's twice as fluffy because he's drunk.

"If you go too fast, you might make a wrong turn or get stuck somewhere. I'm starting to feel uneasy. Would that message get lost?"

"That's not going to happen, what are you saying?"

"Hmm. Just in case, let's send it by another means."

Kurama didn't seem to have heard Jingi's words at all. He put his cell phone in his pocket and took out something else in his place. It was a note on Japanese paper and a brush.

He scribbled something on a notepad and tossed it into the air. Concentrating on the fluttering notes, Kurama signaled at a speed that didn't draw attention.

"Humanity, earth and sky! Each one of us, the arts and crafts of our husbands, return to your roots!"

A localized tornado erupted, entangled the memo and propelled it into the sky. The note flew over his head like a bird into the sky at breakneck speed.

Looking at the stunned dedication, he nodded in satisfaction.

"With this, I should get to Chatarou properly. Come on, Jingi."

Looking at Kurama's back, who began to walk quickly, Jingi replied weakly.

"No, you don't need a cell phone, you..."

++++++++++

Izakaya "Usagi" has many advantages, but the biggest one is that you are free to bring your own food.

Of course, there is a fee per seat, but still, it's cheaper to bring as many snacks and sake as you want, and if you pay for the ingredients and technical fees, the owner, Azuki Mitarai, will cook you a decent dish. In Ninoshima, where there are many people engaged in agriculture and fishing, it was truly a dream shop.

That's why Kurama and Jingi visited "Usagi".

"Oh, Kurama-sensei! That's weird!"

"Sensei! Thank you very much for the other day! Thanks to you, my wife is fine!"

"Sensei! Have a drink! It's my treat!"

As soon as he entered the store, the customers welcomed Kurama at once. Kurama greeted with a smile, responded to the handshakes and gratefully accepted the alcohol and food they offered him. It was also nice not to show unnecessary restraint or concern, and it was one of Kurama's virtues.

Kurama, who was in high demand, was finally given a seat at the table in the center of the store. On the other hand, Jingi delivered the offerings received from the residents to Mitarai.

"Azuki-chan, I beg you to do this. Keep it nice."

"Okay, but I'll take the exact price. The bill won't be paid this time."

"Huh? Well, that's it, hahahaha..."

"Don't fake it by laughing."

Unlike Mitarai, who had a calm look, Jingi's gaze wavered.

Kurama thought with a drunken head. (My brother is in trouble.) Then it was his brother's turn.

"Okay, okay, I've got this place. Let's pop, pop!"

The interior of the store exploded.

"Oh, Sensei!"

"Are you sure you want me to do that...? We didn't do anything."

"But that's what Kurama-sensei said. I'm grateful here..."

Kurama tilted his head. He really didn't understand why everyone was so upset. It occurred to him that his comments were interpreted as "treat everyone".

Jingi noticed the same thing and rolled his eyes and said:

"Wait, wait, you cheeky bastards! Why would Haru-nii buy from you?"

"Of course it's fine! Everyone's portion is also my present!"

Jingi opened his mouth wide and the drunken guests cheered.

"Uooooooh, as expected of Kurama-sensei! Higher humans are different!"

"Sensei! Bring as many bottles of sake as you can! Sensei, I'll order it for you!"

"Sensei, I will follow you forever!"

"Sen-sei! Sen-sei!"

"Sen-sei! Sen-sei!"

Kurama laughed and waved to the applause that rained down. Jingi said bitterly as he sat down across from Kurama.

"Hey, Haru-nii! Are you alright?! Even the Kasen Shrine can't afford it!"

"Well, that's good. It's a celebration of devotion to work."

"No, I just happened to work today, and it's not like I'm going to get a job."

"Oooh?! Did you hear that?! Looks like Jingi is going to get a job!"

"What?! That devastating dedication!"

"Jingi's Dedication?!"

"A worthless dedication!

"Stay in line there. I'll hit you one by one!"

He got angry and kicked his seat, but the same number of sake bottles as the number of guests were pushed, and they were thrown back to their seat. The sake cups were lined up in front of Kurama, and they poured one after the other without worrying about spilling.

"Come on, Sensei! First of all, come over here!"

"Yes."

For now, Kurama held the sake cup in front of him high.

"Good luck then."

"Cheers!"

He didn't remember much after that.

He only remembered the hands of the owner who brought the food, his expression of devotion as if he had swallowed a sour bug, how he toasted each time a new customer arrived, and how many people asked him for advice, but his drunken head closed. But he couldn't quite understand, and when he repeated "I see" and "I see", the conversation somehow went smoothly.

Before long, those hours had passed, and when the only people sitting at the table were Kurama and Jingi, he suddenly said:

"How is Yukito-kun?"

"Eh?"

Jingi, who was drinking chuhai, looked at Kurama with dark eyes. Up to that point, he's been drinking gallons. "Ah...", he let out a voice that sounded just like he remembered it, and Jingi laughed out loud.

"That reminds me, I heard you met him the other day. Somewhere in the woods. I don't know what to do, but please tell me, thank you."

"Thank you? What?"

"Well? He mentioned that he was able to get home thanks to you. He got lost?"

Kurama thought with a drunken head. It is true that he met Yukito during a bath in the forest, but he didn't think he was lost. All Kurama knows is that they had tea together and had a good time chatting.

Jingi then slammed his body against the back. Suspending the handle of the cup with just his little finger and turning it (Kurama thought it was dangerous, he shouldn't do it), he said without looking at anyone.

"Well, is it okay for me to be his teacher? Isn't it better that I be Haru-nii? You have two apprentices of the same age."

It's not like he's complaining. Jingi is not that kind of person. He was just expressing a question that had just popped into his head.

Indeed, Kurama thought. Jingi isn't necessarily qualified as a hookup master. Little serious and irresponsible, living from day to day. No matter how much a person likes Jingi, he can't deny that he is given such an evaluation.

But Kurama smiled and shook his head.

"That's not true, Jingi. Luckily, you're fine as his master."

Jingi looked at Kurama. He had a look as if he was asking, "Why?"

Kurama closed his eyes thoughtfully and answered.

"Of all of us, you are more like his master than anyone. You are similar in his ugly parts, but you are also similar in his amazing parts. That is why you are perfect for Yukito-kun, my master's son."

"......"

"Aka and I probably won't be as good as you. We won't be able to open Yukito-kun's heart. That's why he's okay with you, Jingi."

Jingi gasped slightly. It must have been because his head was half asleep. Kurama didn't quite understand who he was talking about.

He just took a small breath and laughed.

"Then. Well, if Haru-nii says so, I will remain his master in silence."

"Yeah. That's fine. That's fine."

It was then that he lost consciousness for a moment.

Before he knew it, Kurama was being shaken by someone. When he opened his eyes and looked over there, he seemed to be the owner's face. With a slightly concerned look on his face, he shook Kurama's shoulder.

"Sensei, Kurama-sensei, we're closing the shop. Damn those guys, they made him drink until he was like this…"

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry, Mitarai-san. It's alright, I'll prepare..."

"Hmm? Are you going to walk along the river bank?"

For some reason, while drinking canned chuhai, Jingi, who was sitting in front of him, asked curiously. Kurama smiled wryly. Sleeping for a moment, his thoughts woke up a bit. The difference between Kurama and Jingi is that he likes sake, but not enough to drink.

"No, it's the end of the day, Jingi. Go home properly for today."

"...Yes."

Seeing his younger brother nod more obediently than usual, Kurama smirked and reached for his kariginu's chest.

He serched and serched.

He serched again.

Kurama then looked at Jingi. With a troubled smile, Jingi's expression suddenly clouded over.

"Jingi."

"What's happen?"

"Apparently, I lost my wallet. I think it was when I faced the Aramitama."

"Eh?"

The matter seemed problematic. If Jingi said the same, he'd probably be cussing, "Liar, you runaway bastard!" There was no way the famous Kurama could do such a thing. Before long, his gaze remained on Jingi's twitching face, as did Kurama.

At that moment, Kurama, with a completely innocent smile on his face, said to Jingi:

"Then please take care of me, Jingi."

"Even so, you really listen to what Sensei says, you bastard. To think that he would just go looking for his wallet."

Mitarai muttered something like that as he cleaned the shop.

To his credit, Kurama was allowed to wait inside the shop. Although it is spring, the nights are still cold. It was a political consideration that he couldn't throw at a celebrity who was still drinking sake, but Kurama didn't notice that and grabbed the cup of tea he had just drunk with both hands.

"Yes. He's a reliable little brother."

He said it sincerely and drank the tea.

[ryuzakemo128]

Original Characters Headcanons Part 1

Author's Note: These are the original characters I will be using for my original writing from time to time. If you want to request headcanons for any of them feel free to do so.

Masterlist 01

Masterlist 02

[Part 2] - Coming soon

Tara

She comes from a long line of ancient witches who were hunted in the time of the Witch Trials.

Merlin is her raven familiar who can speak, and he's been with her since she was a child.

Her powers are unpredictable, often manifesting in unexpected ways.

Her powers came on her thirteenth birthday, and she almost burned down the house trying to control them.

She lives in a cottage on the outskirts of town, hidden away from prying eyes.

She has a deep love for nature and animals, which is reflected in her magical abilities.

Her favorite spell is one that allows her to communicate with animals, and she often spends her days conversing with the local wildlife.

She has a scar on her left arm from when she accidentally transformed into a hawk during a botched spell.

She's self-taught, relying on old grimoires and her own instincts to hone her craft.

She takes care of animals like geese, ducks, quails, chickens, cats, and dogs at her home.

She has a greenhouse and a garden where she grows herbs and vegetables.

She is careful not to reveal her true identity to anyone, as she knows that it could put her in danger.

Her favorite color is green, which symbolizes growth, renewal, and nature.

Her raven familiar, Merlin, is her closest confidante and advisor.

Samantha

Samantha is a witch who lives in a quaint little cottage in the woods. She inherited her powers from her grandmother, who was also a witch.

She has an affinity for potions and brews magical elixirs that she sells to local shops in the nearby town.

She has a pet rabbit named Peter Cottontail who has the unique ability to turn invisible when scared.

Her favorite time of year is autumn, when the leaves change color and the air is crisp. She loves brewing potions that capture the essence of the season.

Her cottage is adorned with candles, herbs, and crystals, creating a cozy and magical atmosphere.

She has a large collection of rare grimoires that she uses for research and reference.

Her favorite spell to perform is one that can make people laugh uncontrollably.

She spends her weekends volunteering at the local animal shelter, where she helps find homes for abandoned animals.

Amelia

A fae princess, Amelia, has a pet fox named Loki.

She also specializes in healing magic, which she uses to help her people.

Her cottage is surrounded by a lush, magical forest that is home to all manner of enchanted creatures.

She has long, flowing hair the color of sunlight on leaves, and her eyes are the shade of moss.

Amelia loves music and often plays a small harp made from enchanted wood.

Her favorite time of year is the summer solstice, when the fae realm is at its most vibrant and alive.

She is known for her gentle nature and kind heart, often going out of her way to help those in need.

Despite her royal status, she prefers simple clothing made from natural fabrics like linen and wool.

Lily

Lily is a mermaid who lives in a secluded lagoon deep within the ocean. Her cottage is made entirely of coral and seaweed, blending seamlessly into its underwater surroundings.

She has the ability to control water, which she uses to communicate with other sea creatures and navigate through the ocean.

Her long, flowing hair is the color of the deepest blue sea and cascades down her back like a waterfall.

She spends her days swimming among the schools of fish and playing with dolphins in the lagoon.

Her favorite pastime is composing hauntingly beautiful melodies on her enchanted conch shell, which echo throughout the ocean.

She has a pet seahorse named Neptune who can change colors to blend in with his surroundings.

Lily's cottage is adorned with shells, pearls, and other sea treasures she has collected over the years.

Despite her solitary life, she is content and at peace with herself, enjoying the simple beauty of the ocean and its inhabitants.

Marianna

A incredibly wealthy fae, Marianna, has an affinity for glamour and beauty. She possesses an enchanting voice that can mesmerize anyone within hearing distance. Despite her love for luxury, she is deeply concerned about the environment and often uses her influence to promote sustainable practices.

She crafts her own clothes and accessories using rare fabrics and precious gemstones, which often catch the eye of even the most experienced fashionistas. Her home is a testament to her exquisite taste, filled with priceless artwork and antiques from around the world.

Marianna is known for her philanthropic efforts, often donating large sums of money to various causes. However, she remains somewhat reclusive, preferring to avoid the spotlight and maintain her privacy. Despite this, she is deeply loved and respected by those who know her.

She lives in a large estate on the outskirts of the fae realm, surrounded by lush gardens and a stunning natural landscape. The estate is guarded by powerful magical creatures, ensuring that Marianna remains safe and secure at all times.

She has several pet cats , all of which are magical in their own right, and spends much of her free time reading or practicing her musical talents on the harp. Despite her many luxuries, Marianna remains grounded and humble, always aware of the responsibilities that come with her immense wealth and power.

She has an alchemist laboratory hidden deep within her home, where she spends countless hours experimenting with new potions and elixirs. Her knowledge of magical substances is unmatched, and she often uses her expertise to create new spells and enchantments for friends and allies.

Jasper

Jasper is a powerful and respected vampire, known for his wisdom and diplomacy. He has held numerous positions of authority within the vampire community, always striving to maintain peace and stability. He is deeply concerned about the balance between the supernatural and human worlds.

Jasper possesses an air of regal elegance, which is amplified by his ageless beauty. He is fluent in several languages and has a vast knowledge of history, politics, and culture. He is often sought after for advice by both vampires and humans alike.

Jasper is committed to promoting tolerance and understanding between the various supernatural races. He frequently hosts gatherings at his luxurious estate, where representatives from different factions can come together to discuss issues of mutual concern. Despite his age and experience, Jasper remains open-minded and adaptable, always willing to learn from others.

Jasper lives in castle along with his male lovers, all of whom are also vampires. The castle is situated on a hill overlooking a small village, and its towers and turrets are adorned with stained glass windows that cast a kaleidoscope of colors throughout the castle's interior.

Jasper is an avid collector of art and rare books, which fill the castle's numerous rooms and corridors. He has a particular fondness for ancient manuscripts and illuminated texts, which he studies extensively in his private library. Despite his passion for knowledge, Jasper is also known for his love of music and dance, often hosting extravagant balls in the castle's grand ballroom.

Jasper is a talented musician himself, playing the violin with a virtuosity that rivals even the most accomplished human performers. He also has a secret garden on the castle grounds, where he spends hours lost in thought or composing new melodies. Despite his many responsibilities, Jasper remains dedicated to the pursuit of beauty and creativity, both in his own life and in the world around him.

Ember

Ember is a vampire from Italy, known for her beauty and charm. She's been living for centuries, and her life is filled with intrigue and danger. Despite her immortality, she's haunted by memories of her human life and the love she lost.

Ember was a nurse, caring for the sick and injured during World War II. She met a handsome soldier named Lorenzo, who captured her heart. They fell deeply in love, but their happiness was short-lived. Lorenzo was killed in action, and Ember's grief turned her into a vampire.

Now, Ember wanders the world, searching for meaning in her immortal existence. She avoids other vampires, preferring the company of humans whom she can control without resorting to violence. Ember's beauty and allure make it easy for her to blend in with society, but she remains an outsider, always looking in.

She became a chef for humans in the late 1980s, opening a restaurant called "Blood and Roses." The menu features dishes with a twist, incorporating ingredients like garlic and sunlight into the recipes. Her culinary skills are matched only by her ability to manipulate people with her words and actions. Despite her best efforts, Ember can't escape the loneliness that comes with her immortality.

She currently lives in a renaissance era mansion that was in her family for generations, located in the heart of Florence. The mansion is filled with priceless art and antiques, but it's also a prison for Ember. She longs to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin and the touch of a loved one. Her existence is a constant reminder of the love she lost and the life she can never have again.

[lightning-etc-lord]

"The Seat of Divine Foresight could gift you... and our Astral Express friends with a few personal refrigerators." Jing Yuan can't conceal the genuine smile on his face, and the slight tint of color, too. "Perhaps a few Luofu furnishings as well? That way, you will be able to remember your true home whenever."

I heard in passing that the food of the Astral Express is not labeled, but in occasion, a few particular items could be. Is that so? If the answer is yes, who in the Astral Express would be more keen to doing it, and who'd be the one eating said labeled food?

If we are going to be realistic about it I would label certain items whether because I like them or need to eat that specific item for x reason. Caelus however is prone to be a little thief, like a raccoon in a trashcan. So often than not, labels mean nothing to him.

[dansnaturepictures]

21/01/23-Blog 1 of 3: Winnall Moors-Post 1: The story of the visit

I had had the idea for a little while to visit Winnall Moors on a weekend morning, the reserve I started visiting occasionally on my Winchester in office working days over the summer/autumn that would currently be too wet to do with work clothes/shoes on. It was largely just to see this lovely spot again but also felt a good idea especially on a sunny morning with the amount of photos we’ve seen online from there of late of Kingfishers and other things. So my Mum and I did it today in perfect sunny conditions and had an amazing time this morning.

We saw one of the Kingfisher pair, the “red-lipped” lady within minutes of walking up the Water Vole trail getting some fantastic views. Then further around adjacent to North Walls Recreation Ground the other side of the water we got phenomenal views of the male dashing around and still in the exquisite sunlight. We spent some glee filled minutes entranced by these angelic wonders. It was sensational to see them at different points along the river, getting some of our closest ever views the male especially of one of our favourite birds and a species we have known for so long, and we saw these Kingfishers dive to hunt more times than we ever had before today. It was brilliant to watch their face of focus poised on the sparkly water then see them plummet and linger on the water’s surface a bit. This set today apart from any other sightings we’ve had of them, and really made it a big experience and moment. They’re a bird we always love seeing and we’ve seen so well this year already, but this allowed us more focused time zooming in on a bird and was so thrilling. They said on BBC Winterwatch last night get out this weekend and find a natural spectacle and this for us felt like an inspiring one. This is a bird I always feel so fortunate to photograph and is real adrenaline stuff for me with my history of taking a few years to get photos of one and how much the prospect excites me and it was paradise today for photo opportunities, it was a rare occasion I got top chances for photos of the bird and others with both my DSLR camera with big lens on and bridge camera playing to their different strengths. I took the seventh picture in this photoset of the male bird, my next post up shortly has ten more Kingfisher photos I took today. It was lovely to get chatting to a few others here enjoying the bird.

But it wasn’t all about the Kingfishers as we saw so much else here today. Leading the other sightings was one that I had a hope of seeing that we hadn’t yet this year which I had heard here before, a Cetti’s Warbler. We heard it’s fluent and energetic call then saw it scuttle along low bits of vegetation over the water hearing others too and my Mum saw another. One of my birds of the year so far, a smashing year tick and cracking view of it. The other two big stars here this morning were Redwing and Buzzard, getting excellent views of a few of the former a divine thrush. Some of my best views this winter perhaps of a brilliant and beautiful bird I took the second picture in this photoset of one. As I had seen here before on I believe my last visit where I walked around at a lunch time (I had a further one in November I believe where I just ate lunch at the entrance) a majestic Buzzard stood as master of the marsh on a dead tree. And one also thrillingly flew into trees right by us which we got astonishing views of. I took the tenth and final picture in this photoset of the latter. 

Top views of Wren as the sixth picture in this photoset shows, exciting Goldcrest again after yesterday and star birds of my week Siskin and Chiffchaff seen as well as Sparrowhawk were other highlights. Adding nicely to the freshness and wonder of being out early in the day was bird song at the nearby car park, Robin singing beautifully and Great Tit I seem to recall. I enjoyed seeing catkins especially at the nearby car park, possible frosted thistle leaves as the fifth picture in this photoset shows, possible daffodil shoots under water and cleavers.

It was also just so nice to be out early on in such a lovely day the weather was great, appreciating the soft winter sunlight bringing to life the woodland with epic bare trees seen well alongside pines, reedbeds and riverine habitat with nice views of hills and into Winchester. The crispness of the day was memorable too with frost and ice on show again, I enjoyed a stunning sunny frosty view of the green out the front as we left with a Robin nestled into the forsythia hedge which was a great start to the day with Mute Swans seen from my room this morning nicely flying at a distance. I took the first, third, fourth, eighth and ninth pictures in this photoset of views at Winnall Moors today. What an enriching and stunning morning in nature.

Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first Cetti’s Warbler of the year, Kingfisher, Great Spotted Woodpecker and Jay more of my long term favourites seen nicely too, Buzzard, Sparrowhawk, Carrion Crow seen well, Feral Pigeon, Blackbird, Redwing, great views of Robin, Blue Tit, Great Tit, Long-tailed Tit, Dunnock, Wren, Chiffchaff, Chaffinch seen well, Goldfinch, Siskin, Goldcrest, Mallard, Moorhen, Cormorant and I seem to recall Woodpigeon and Grey Squirrel.

The rest of today’s posts are here: https://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/707085601005010945/210123-blog-2-of-3-winnall-moors-post-2-ten and  https://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/707087041049034752/210123-blog-3-of-3-mercer-way-romsey-following

[rcgalities]

in the great land of luyuin, DHARYA YRSAOTTIR of HOUSE NORÕRI begins their journey towards the isle of glass. known to be COMPASSIONATE  and PERSISTENT, their suspected INSECURE and GULLIBLE habits might prove to be their undoing. if the bards could compose a song for them, it could tell stories of  A SMILE AFTER COMPLETING A HARD TASK, EYES THAT ALWAYS SEE THE GOOD IN EVERYTHING, THE SWEET SMELL OF ORANGE BLOSSOMS, GETTING BACK UP AFTER THE HUDREDTH TIME FALLING DOWN, SOFT HANDS CAPABLE OF GREAT VIOLENCE. the glass throne whispers to the LADY OF NORÕRI / MONSTER SLAYER IN TRAINING and it is said that their loyalties lie with HOUSE NORÕRI. only time will tell if the WITCHER has what it takes to ascend to the throne.

01. BASICS

FULL NAME: Dharya Aerith Yrsaottir. NICKNAME(S): Dhar, Dharie, The Winter Sun. TITLE(S): Lady Of Norõri, sister of the ruling lord. AGE & DoB: 85 & Unknown (celebrated on the tenth day of Sun's Dawn). GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis Woman & She/her. OCCUPATION:  Monster slayer in training.

02.PHYSICAL APPEARANCE, ETC.

FACECLAIM: Landy Li. HAIR: Shining, straight black hair usually up in a high half pony tail, often adorned with silver jewelry when not training or hunting. EYE COLOR: Dark brown that looks almost black when in the shadows and lightens a bit in sunlight.  PIERCINGS: Two on each earlobe. CLOTHING STYLE:Simple and practical, yet beautiful dresses, mainly in pastel colors on her every day life and black when training or hunting. Doesn’t wear a lot of jewelry except for hair accesories. SIGNATURE SCENT: Orange blossoms, cinnamon, and iron.

03. PERSONALITY.

LABEL(S): The benevolent, the warrior princess, the pollyanna, the paradox. POSITIVE TRAITS:Compassionate, persistent, enthusiastic, hard working, sociable.  NEGATIVE TRAITS:  Insecure, gullible, overly trusting, self critical, perfectionist. ASTROLOGY: Aquarius sun, Virgo moon, Cancer rising. MBTI: ISFJ (The defender). TEMPERANMENT: Sanguine. MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic good. HOGWARTS HOUSE: Hufflepuff. ELEMENT: Air.

04. FAMILY, RELATIONSHIPS, ETC.

MOTHER: tbd. FATHER: tbd. SIGNIFICANT OTHER: tbd. SIBLING(S): Audun Yrsaottir, lord of norõri. OTHERS: tbd.

05. BACKGROUND.

One cold morning, without anyone having adverted it, a baby wrapped in a yellow blanket, was left on the steps of the Norõri Stronghold. Her lips were tinted blue and her little hand was clasped around a crumpled piece of paper reading only one word 'Dharya'. The Lady of Norõri, surprised by the babe who should by all means have frozen to death already, and having already taken in three other children, decided to adopt this girl as well.

The youngest of the four Yrsaottir siblings, Dharya grew up without want of anything. Though her mother was often away, her eldest brother made sure she never lacked guidance and attention, and like a little duckling, it was common to see her follow him everywhere.

Dharya gained her moniker easily. Like the winter sun, she became a constant and welcome light in the dark hallways of the stronghold, a warm presence in every room she walked in. It was always easy to make her laugh and she trusted too quickly. All of this to say, it was truly a surprise for many when she decided to start her witcher training.

The training was as daunting and ruthless as it was promised to be. Dharya's small constitution and gentle nature didn't take easy to the torturing rituals and conditioning thrown upon her. Her laughter resounding through the halls was replaced by muted screams of pain and howls of exertion; her once pristine skin became riddled with scars. Many times she was told to quit this madness, even her mother, a proud monster slayer,believed that she did not have what it took. And yet, she persisted.

She kept rising every time she fell, bandaged her wounds and swallowed back the pain. Every night she would go to her chambers, bloody and broken, and vow to herself to do better the next day. And just like the sun in winter, every morning she would rise again, sore but determined, as radiant as the day before.

With time it became easier. Dharya's persistence bore its fruits, she managed to go through the process, and she became a full-fledged witcher, even if she was still not allowed to take on missions on her own.

Her sweet nature remains, and anyone who doesn't know her would not guess what she is by her appearance or demeanor alone.

[fishrpg]

2024-01-09: Hex 6,5 (Forest)

The scent of fallen leaves and damp earth percolates through the breeze.

Notable Feature: Dungeon (Druid's Tree) 

Medium size dungeon with 10 rooms

This site of abundant wildlife is a sacred site for druids in the area. It is a tower that has been both carved and grown inside a partially-hollowed giant redwood tree. It functions as a nursery for dangerous plants, a repository for rare seeds, and a source of power for the druids. Despite being without windows, the dungeon is lit by the tree's magical heartwood. The light shifts from dim to bright alongside the sunlight outside the tree.

Sometime in the past two days, a wanderer sneaked inside the tree looking for shelter. The wanderer, an elf named Gaelith Kerwin (adolescent male elf thug), became intoxicated and disoriented after eating some dangerous fruit. In a panic, Gaelith has begun destroying plants and injuring the heartwood in an attempt to escape. The tree screams in a language only the druids can hear, and thus the druids are unable to get close to the tree because of the how loud the screams are.

For anyone willing to brave the tower to help, the druids have requested a priority of operations. Save the heartwood first, then save the plants, and if possible, the last priority is to save Gaelith. If the tree is saved, the druids agree to reward the party with a single magical item called the Whispering Leaf. When the leaf is placed in the hollow of a tree or log and and a request for aid is whispered to the leaf, the leaf will disappear. A druid (likely not known to the party) will approach the party in 1d6 hours and assist them to the best of their ability for up to 24 hours.

Note: I won't be listing the full contents of treasure hoards and such because that took more time than I have available.

Hidden: Amphitheater of Malice

A priestess is chanting in an empty amphitheater while a severely-injured man lays on the ground nearby. The priestess is called Sister Aurelia (adult human female priest) and is suspicious of the party's approach. Her voice is ragged and hoarse, because she's been chanting almost nonstop for several hours in an attempt to silence and seal away the malicious whispers. Dozens of disembodied whispers try to goad the party into maiming or mutilating themselves in every language imaginable. This is the fate that has befallen Sister Aurelia's colleague, Brother Grigor. Between chants, Sister Aurelia asks the party to stabilize Brother Grigor and get him to Murlington (Hex 4,4) as soon as possible for medical and spiritual care. 

Hidden: Hogging the Spotlight

Inside a freshly-painted trading post called the Redwood Trading Post, an enthusiastic druid known only as The Moss (young adult nonbinary human druid) is keen to let everyone know about a recent theft in their midst. Two young men, Buck and Tomas, absconded with a prized truffle-hunting hog, presumably in an attempt to make money. The group headed northwest toward Hex 2,6 but are probably in struggling through Hex 3,5 when party is contacted. The Moss wants the hog back alive, but they are not concerned with what happens to Buck and Tomas.

Encounter: Not Dead Yet 

A flock of 6 vultures seem to be following the party closely, and far more stealthily than usual. The vultures continue to follow the party until they reach the overturned wagon of huckster named Reedy Wahler (adult male human scout) seeking to trade at the Redwood Trading Post. Reedy is willing to offer two potions of healing as a reward for assistance, but each potion has been diluted and restores half the usual HP (round down, minimum 1) 

[lightning-etc-lord]

"The bottom bunk certainly suits you, Xing-ge." He's totally smirking, the little shit.

Gege, do you sleep on the top or on the bottom of the bunk?

I don’t even have a bunk bed- ahem but, if I had to choose the bottom bunk.