#Maybe moonflower or green moonflower

[frenchgremlim1808]

since I was procrastinating I went to the wiki to search for stuff and I noticed something interesting.

So everyone knows that that a lot of the character names are kinda little jokes or messages. Like keiji shinogi kinda sounds like the Japanese name for cop.

So has everyone knows shin and sou named are opposites. Sou mean"lies" since it's an anagram from USO, the actual word for lies. Shin means "truth". But i feel like we don't focuse on their last name a lot.

Tsukimi means moon and hiyori means sun. The moon can only shine because of the sun radiance. The moon can only envy the sun, despite the fact that the sun Is a radiotactive ball of fire and explosion.

But some life like the darkness of the moon. Just like some flowers. Yknow moon flower that one.

That's why now I'm officially calling greenbling (shin and kanna) moonflower. So here's is the official names of every greenbling pairing

Greenblings= kanna, shin, Kugie

Kizuchi sister= kanna, kugie

Moonflower= shin and kanna

Cursed greenbling=kanna,shin,Kugie,sou

[seattlesellie]

e. williams — moonflower.

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

synopsis: it’s ellie’s birthday, and you have three gifts for her. a moonflower bouquet, the latest savage starlight, and a pin from joel. maybe, you even have a fourth one.

warnings: smut (mdni), established relationship, dom!ellie, sub!reader, inexperienced reader, loss of virginity (r!), first time everything, loads of praise, loads of romance, cute little slaps, and as weird as it is to include this in these warnings; mentions of joel and ellie’s complicated relationship.

an: finally finished it. this is very very fluffy, as smutty as it may be. if you love flowers this one’s for you <3 i truly could have made this longer but i was super self conscious so i might post a little blurb instead!! constructive criticism and all comments n discussions are very much appreciated. thank you for being patient and sweet i love u 💗

enveloped up in a baby blue ribbon, it sits pretty on top of your duvet. the latest edition of “savage starlight” — ellie’s favorite comics series, and a bouquet of flowers. when you picked them out just for her— forehead glistening under the radiant june sun, you noticed a singular flower that set itself apart from the others. blinding white, trumpet shaped— it’s lemon fragrance wafted through the thick air. it's petals were curled up, but you decided to keep it nevertheless. you’ve never seen one quite like it. when you brought it to your house, along with the fresh daisies and the garden roses, you noticed something bizarre, and oh so beautiful.

the odd flower bloomed underneath the moonlight that snuck itself inside the big window of your room. as the white petals unfurled, there you stood— awestruck.

⋆˙⟡♡

you decided to bring it over to louisa, the frail old lady who ran the jackson community garden.

“s’quite beautiful, isn’t it?” you told proudly, taking a whiff of the flowers creamy white petals. louisa ran her fingertips delicately over the flowers green stem, and just like you— louisa was awestruck.

“oh dear, it certainly is. how did you… manage to find it?” louisa probed, and your heart skipped a beat. your relationship with ellie was new, and fresh as a daisy. your face flushed, but you told louisa— your precious confidant, nevertheless. “ellie’s birthday’s coming up soon… so i, was picking up some flowers for her. s’not much, i know… but,” you scratched your arm, feeling extra timid. “i think ellie will like them. i… hope”

louisa smiled soft heartedly, the aged skin around the sides of her eyes folding itself and forming three little lines. somehow, it felt like the old lady knew more about you two than you did. “she’d be a fool not to”, she assured, and pressed tightly on your shoulder.

“i would have asked you if you were in love… but, no need to.”

“how come?”

“it simply shows, pumpkin’”

louisa sighed deeply, and began guiding you towards the humble old basement, where she stored all of her gardening books.

ipomoea alba, the tropical white morning-glory, jimsonweed, or for those of us who are a tad scatterbrained— moonflower. the moonflower, is the most romantic flower of all. it is dreamy, and mysterious, and it yearns for the warm embrace of the sun, but it also requires a cold caress of shade. it slumbers amidst the daylight, closing and hiding its delicate petals up, but during the night— it blooms, and it’s magnificent. as wispy and precious as the moonflower may be, the bloom may also be deadly.

it reminded you of her.

⋆˙⟡♡

ellie and you had numerous conversations about things that were… hypothetical. if you were a planet, which planet would you be?, if you were an animal, which one suits you best, would you say?, make it more specific, even— if you were a bug, what bug would you be? ellie told you were a butterfly, and that she would be a spider.

“don’t… spiders eat butterflies?” you probed, your head resting on top of her shoulder. it was a quiet, chilly night in jackson, and for some reason, being around ellie made you feel scorching. ellie huffed and chuckled, “yeah, think they do”

“well… that sucks” you noted, as a loose strand of ellie’s auburn hair tickled your cheek. ellie thought for a while, and then chuckled again. she did it quite a lot, chuckle to herself without saying a word. “i wouldn’t… eat you though. i’d… build a little web around you. protect you from the other spiders. you could be my personal butterfly… pet, thing”

you hummed, being caged in ellie’s spider web didn’t actually seem all that bad. in fact, it had a certain charm to it. but, wait… “wouldn’t being around me make you hungry?”

ellie’s breath caged in her throat.

it already does.

“guess i’d have to fight against my urges” she rasped, and you nodded.

if you were a butterfly, ellie would be the brave spider who protects you.

if you were a lily; who blooms during the daylight, the resurrection of spring, the goddess oestre, enlightened and wise, ellie was your missing piece. the moon to your sun, and the darkness to your light. the universe thrives because of it’s harmonious balance, and so do you.

⋆˙⟡♡

sugar, flour, cocoa powder, salt, two fresh eggs, a cup of milk, and one cane of sweet vanilla. the chocolate cake was damn near perfect. writing her name on the cake with a thick layer of vanilla icing was extremely precious and necessary to you. woefully, the can was nearing on empty, so— the cake read; “happy birth, el”

you impishly giggled to yourself. sounds like ellie’s going to give birth. with one more dip of your finger inside the rich ganache, you came to a firm and final conclusion— it was heavenly, the perfect balance of sweet and chochlaty bitterness. the secret ingredient that must have made it as amazing as it was, was the espresso powder you traded for a bargain. or maybe, maybe it was love.

“ugh, quit it. cheesy” you silently mumbled to yourself.

⋆˙⟡♡

the weather was hot, and the air felt thick. you always deemed it funny, ellie being a june baby and hating the heat. the town bustled with noise of chatter on a busy monday mornin’, and maria stood with her arms crossed against her chest in the corner. she seemed to be in the midst of scolding a guilty looking tommy, and next to them, were a handful of children giggling in the background.

balancing the chocolate cake, alongside with the gifts sitting inside the brown paper bag (with the pretty blue ribbon you clasped onto it), and the flower bouquet was hard. waddling around the town, on your way to ellie’s house, no wonder you nearly dropped it all on the floor when you bumped into a large man, that hit your front like a stone.

“oh— uh, easy there, kiddo”

you could recognize that rasp and that texas twang everywhere, even when your eyes were squinted, avoiding the rays of the sun.

joel.

you hastily managed to balance it all together again, apologizing profusely to the middle aged man— whomst you almost smashed the entire cake onto. he wore a black button up, it seemed… festive. huh. “headin’ to see ellie, i assume?” joel rasped.

you nodded and smiled politely. you’ve never been completely alone with joel, and most importantly, you’ve never talked to him about ellie. things between them were… complicated. you didn’t know why, and sometimes— you were too afraid to even ask. it all seemed too sensitive. ellie would nearly wince when his name was mentioned, and her eyes would fill with something that seemed like sorrow, or regret, or anger. usually, all of those emotions— all at once.

“that her gift?” he pointed towards the brown paper bag.

“mhm! savage starlight. s’the latest edition… i think”

joel smiled softly, and hummed in response. his eyes too, were filled with something that seemed to hold a droplet of sorrow and regret, but no anger though. different than ellie’s.

“she’s still into it, huh?”

“she’s obsessed” you giggled. truthfully, she had a good reason to be. savage stralight was fucking awesome, you grew to realize. it was even more awesome when she read it to you in the dark, cuddled up in her squeaky bed, holding a flashlight to illuminate the written words. when you dozed off, she’d continue reading out loud, maybe to herself, or maybe for your subconscious to absorb.

“i have… this, thing, uh—“ he shifted awkwardly, and began searching for something in his pockets. joel took it out, and showed it to you while holding it in his palm. the thing he mentioned, was a golden, diamond studded pin of the fallen apollo 1. it was beautiful, highly detailed, it’s unmistakable shine reflecting the rays of the sun.

“found it last week while i was patrollin’”

“it’s… woah” you marveled, running a delicate finger over the polished metal.

“is she… still into the space thing?” the stony man asked with a slightly shaky voice. something in you had to physically fight the urge to pull him into a warm hug.

“yeah… we… well, we went to look at the stars the other day”

joel placed the pin in your hand, and wrapped your fingers around it. “could you give it to her? don’ gotta say it’s from me. tell her you found it”

you nearly choked up.

“joel… you should come with me”

joel sighed, and smiled softly again. joel wasn’t into smiling, but you made ellie smile, and that made joel smile.

“maybe next birthday, kid”

joel, just like louisa, knew ellie loved you before she did. and joel, saw his girl turn from a sulky, sullen teenager, to someone who looked like she had something, someone, to live for.

⋆˙⟡♡

12:00pm, and exactly three knocks on ellie’s wooden door. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t filled with anxiousness. being anxious around ellie wasn’t a strange new feeling. you had butterflies swarming around your belly when she looked at you, had butterflies when she talked to you, especially when she used that one tone, when she got out of the shower with only a small towel wrapped around her glistening body, you had butterflies, or better yet— a painfully lage bee colony growing in your tummy. when she kissed you softly, the bees calmed down and were a little more subtle, you could imagine them having black oogly heart eyes— but when she kissed you roughly, forcefully against the wall (or against the concrete floor that one time), the bees buzzed uncontrollably, and somehow flew down to a lower part of your body. when she grabbed your waist and gave it a squeeze, as she ravished your mouth with her wet tongue, they went even lower and…

well, anyways— ellie made you nervous. handing her her gifts made you nervous and having her first birthday with you made you even more nervous. you were a fuzzy ball of nervousness and anticipation, and now ellie opened the door and you nearly dropped the cake on the ground.

again.

usually, ellie would greet you with a shy “hey”. exactly a week ago, she added a “babe” to it. (the belly bee colony buzzed and they were tremendously loud, you thought ellie could possibly hear them — so you had to hold on to your tummy) today, ellie greeted you with blown out eyes and a gasp. “oh…”

“happy birthday” you mumbled adorably as if it was a hushed little secret, too shy to look her in the eyes. ellie was too shy too, a coy smile painted on her lips, rosy cheeked, with her hands clamped in two fists inside her oversized grey sweater (it’s june, she would not let that hoodie go). her pupils were glued to the “happy birth, el” written in white icing.

when she felt bold enough to look you in the eyes after not speaking (just staring) for one whole minute, as soon as she caught your gaze— your orbs began dancing around everything you saw, purely avoiding her look but with a huge grin plastered on your sweet, overly excited face.

would it be stupid for ellie to tell you that she loved you right now? because it was getting incredibly hard not to.

instead of a (perhaps) misplaced i love you, ellie decided a pure “thank you” would be have to suffice. she held the door for you, and you shyly tiptoed in. when you placed the chocolate cake on top of the oakwood counter along with the paper bag, you felt ellie’s hands shyly creeping up to your waist, pulling you in a tight hug. “you really… really, shouldn’t have” she whispered. her voice was still groggy, lazy, raspy.

it was her morning voice.

funnily enough, this was your first time hearing it. you never stayed over past 2am— the night was dangerous in your eyes. the night meant going to sleep, it meant staying in her bed, and it meant sleeping with her inside of it. the idea of a night with ellie felt as if the bee colony in your stomach was about to erupt and explode and splatter everywhere.

“you know i don’t… celebrate these things” ellie rasped again, breaking you off from your idle thoughts. you placed your hand over hers, and giggled. “s’not a thing, el… it’s your birthday”, ellie hummed in agreement, and you continued. “besides, it’s an—“ she planted a soft, chaste kiss on your neck. it made you shudder and it made your voice break. “an… excuse to eat some cake”

“just cake?”, ellie sighed, her raspy voice tickling your cheek.

“mhm” you nodded, distracted as ever.

“whats in that paper bag then, huh?”

the flower only blooms during the night, and savage starlight was meant to be consumed with the help of a trusty ol’ flashlight, under a thick blanket. the sun was still out, so the moonflower slept. for the comics, you wouldn’t need a flashlight, and that would simply demolish all of the fun.

the sun was still out so unfortunately, ellie will have to sit and patiently wait.

you pull yourself out of her hug, and waltz away slowly. “well… paper bags for later”, you tilt your head, drawing out your words just to tease her and then some. “so, not gonna show you what’s in there”

ellie raises a brow, a slight half smirk creeping up on her face. saying ellie was a patient girl, would be similar to saying a cat doesn't walk on four. technically, it could… be biped, but— well, wouldn’t quite work. so similarly, patient and ellie couldn’t quite work either.

“you gonna say no to me on my birthday?” she jests, pulling her arms and crossing them over her grey hoodie ridden chest.

“oohh…” you nod twice, “so now you do celebrate these things?” you teasingly raise an eyebrow, mirroring her stance. ellie chuckles and it comes out from deep within her throat. she squints her eyes, “you’re such a tease”

she must not know one of the bee’s just stung the insides of your own stomach and dropped dead. or maybe it’s not dead yet, because you can still feel it’s erratic buzzing and the venom makes you feel as if you’re about to pass out.

“mhm… it’s okay, i’ll wait, babe” — there’s that babe again, and the little bee is definitely dead by now.

“can we eat the cake outside? s’nice, warm… we could do a picnic!” you chirp, each and every single one of your words laced with that syrupy sweetness that makes ellie melt.

ellie smiles and feels a little blush creeping up on the apples of her cheeks. “could do… whatever you want, it’s your cake” she states, and you roll your eyes at her sweet humility. “s’not my cake, it’s yours” you mutter serenely as you point towards the vanilla icing. “see? has your name on it and all”

ellie tries plunging a slender finger into the icing, a foolish attempt to taste it, but you slap it away, a faux pout forming on her face.

“can’t taste my own cake?”

“nope. outside” you speak, popping the p’.

“yes ma’am”

⋆˙⟡♡

you take a sip of the freshly squeezed lemonade, a droplet of sour and sweetness flowing down from the corner of your lips. ellie— propped up by her elbow, brings her thumb and wipes it away. “so messy” she jives playfully, putting the pad of her thumb in her mouth and joyfully sucks on it. she’s squinting her eyes, attempting to avoid the rays of the sun, and you giggle impishly. “can i finally taste my cake now?” she drawls.

impatient as ever, ellie doesn’t even bother pulling out the white plastic fork. instead, she shoves her hand into the cake and takes a big bite. her eyes shut as she devours it, humming at the taste. with her mouth full, she utters “happy birth, el, huh?”.

you breathlessly laugh and nudge her arm away so she almost falls on the checkered, red and white picnic blanket. “sounds like… mmh, fuck, this is good”, she licks her finger — “sounds like m’giving birth”

“i didn’t have any more icing left!” you raise your tone brightly. ellie looks you in the eyes and swallows a sly smirk. this time, it’s your turn to wipe some residue off the corner of her lips. you taste it, and god damn was she right— it’s finger lickin’ good.

“i think that like, when we have babies, you’d be the one to give birth… not my thing. don’t want some… little intruder in my stomach”

before you have time to answer, ellie bites the insides of her cheeks and feels like slapping herself in the face or burying herself 7 feet in the ground. she’s talking about having babies with you?!

she’d smack herself so hard right now if she could.

for you, however, it’s becoming insufferably hard not to start jumping up and down and ripping your hair off in excitement.

“let me get this straight…” you begin, and ellie’s convinced you’re about to tell her that she’s too much and leave. “an intruder, as you put it, can live inside my belly for nine whole months, but not inside yours?”

ellie has to stop herself from breathing a sigh of relief. “it’ll suit you, is all i’m sayin’”

ellie manages to eat half of the creamy chocolate cake all by herself. she was never one to have a big appetite, did you sneak something inside of the batter, perhaps?

maybe it’s love, ellie wonders. she scolds herself internally, quit being such a sap. it’s definitely the espresso powder her taste buds managed to pick up on.

laying face to face with her eyes closed, you manage to count some of her splattered freckles. one… two… fifteen…, some of them grew darker, tanner. ellie’s chest rises up and down, and you almost think she must have dozed off like a little kid having a post—dessert nap, until;

“hey” she whispers.

“hi” you whisper back.

ellie opens her eyes, a soft, lazy half smile adorning her face. she bites her bottom lip, “can i open my present now?”

impatient.

you shake your head softly. “nuh uh, sun’s still out. sorry, els”

she wants to scoff but she loves it when you call her by that little nickname. “but…” you look down shyly, reaching out for your pocket. “i ran into… joel, on my way here” you speak quietly, afraid of saying the wrong thing. ellie blinks twice, and clears her throat. taking it out of your pocket, you place the little precious pin in between ellie and you. ellie only looks at it, doesn’t touch. you can’t quite describe the expression on her face. surprised? dreadful?… doubtful, maybe, and a tad curious perhaps. “he wanted me to give you this… s’the fallen apollo eleven, i think”

ellie let’s out a quiet chuckle.

“apollo one”

she lifts herself up, taking the pin in her hand. her green eyes begin examining it, brushing her fingers on the golden metal. you sit quietly for a while, allowing ellie to be one with her thoughts. she doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, really. sorrow? regret? tears threaten to fill the brim of her eyes, so with her back to you, she sighs deeply and swallows them up. you bring your hand to lay a small caress on the small of her back, and ellie gazes to the side. she grabs your hand, and plants a small kiss on to your fingers. “ellie…” you silently whisper, and ellie sniffles.

“it’s alright, m’okay” she assures, and lays herself on top of the blanket again. her hand still holds your fingers, and you bring them around her thumb and squeeze. “thank you” she voices. before telling her that you’re not the one she should thank, a small tear flows down her cheek. you’d wipe it away, but ellie grabs your other hand and interlocks her fingers with yours. “sometimes it… fuck—“ she laughs, it occurss to both of you you’ve never quite seen her cry. “it’s okay” you comfort. keep going, you got her. ellie deeply sighs, “feels like i don’t deserve any of this”. the tear is hanging from her chin now, then flows down to her neck. you don’t ask her why, because now is not the time, but you’ll ask her one day. for now, all you do is assure her that she does. and for once in her life, she actually might start to believe it.

⋆˙⟡♡

apparently, chocolate cake, raspberry jam and some bubbly champagne (that you stole borrowed from the tipsy bison) can really get you two going. after hours of aimless giggling, tummies hurting from all of the fine delicacies, it’s time for your favourite past time— ellie and yours hypotheticals corner. naturally, with your head laying on top of her firm chest, you’re the one who starts. “okay, so… plants”, you gush. “mhm, so plants” ellie repeats, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your half covered shoulder. “which plant would i be?”

ellie thinks for a while— you two really take this seriously. she hums before responding, puffing some air from her nose. “chocolate plant, for sure”

interesting. you thought she’d say a certain flower, a delicate one, a soft one, one that blooms in the day. chocolate plant. “intersting… why chocolate? — ellie doesn’t quite know either. perhaps it’s because she loves chocolate and she loves you, and the champagne is making her feel giddy and silly and you’re her little chocolate bean, plant thing.

“cause it’s tasty” she responds, and you almost settle on that except… you seem to have an important anecdote you have a blinding urge to point out.

“well, it makes zero sense. you’ve never even tasted me”

that she hasn’t. yet.

ellie’s breath hitches inside her throat and she nearly chokes on her spit. do you know… what you’re doing? you muttered that sentence so innocently, so absentmindedly, and of course she hasn’t tasted you, but did that thought occur in your mind like it did in hers? you’re still smiling, patiently waiting for her response, and ellie can’t help but feel so… well, she couldn’t quite put her finger on what she was feeling. her cheeks however— light up in a shade of dusty pink.

“imagine if you like, ate me! i’d probably taste so…”

sweet? intoxicating?

“gross!” you exclaim, exaggerating and blowing your eyes out. ellie’s cheeks calm down a little, the pretty pink diminishing slowly. “thank god you’re not a cannibal…”

nah, she thinks she might be something worse.

slowly, ellie pushes her body closer to yours. you feel her faint breaths on the tip of your nose. “tickles…” you murmur, and ellie huffs out and smiles. it’s that smile she gives you before saying something. the way her eyes dart from your lips to your eyes… it makes you feel vulnerable, coy, and it’s as if she’s studying you, taking in your features one by one. perhaps, she loves seeing the way your eyelashes flutter like small butterfly wings when you feel her gaze on you.

“i have tasted you though” she rasps, her voice low and husky. her eyes are focused on your lips now, as hers slightly part, and then close up again. “you have?” you mumble, shy under her gaze. she hums, bringing the pad of her thumb to your lips again and pulling on your bottom one slightly. this time, you don’t have lemonade juice running down your chin. this time— the gesture is truly just for her. those lips… she thinks.

“you taste… good. and sweet, like…”, your lips curl up to a smile. “chocolate?” you complete. ellie hums again, her palm cupping your cheek. you feel warm, how are you always so warm? — even when you’re shivering cold, warmth is all she can feel.

“and vanilla… and coconut” she caresses your cheek with her thumb. you giggle, “you’ve never even had coconut”

“nah, but i can imagine…” — and oh, imagine she can. is this the champagne talking? it must be it, because that fizzling bubbly voice in her head would not let her go. funny, she doesn’t even feel drunk. “you taste sweet too” you state, nearly purring into her hand as she keeps delicately caressing your skin. she chuckles, “no i don’t” — and she’s right. she doesn’t taste sweet, in fact, she tastes minty and earthy and it makes you feel dizzy each time.

slowly, ellie gets her face even closer to yours. she sees your eyes twinkling, and she swears they shine brighter than every star she’s ever seen. back in the old times, nasa would have a field trip exploring your orbs. they might even find new galaxies in there, and ellie wishes she could explore each one. she really should have been an astronaut.

“ellie?” you quietly whisper. ellie nearly gets lost in the way you say her name, but responds to you nevertheless. “yeah babe?”

“can i taste you? to prove how… sweet you are?” — she knows you mean her lips, regardless, that dusty pink turns a deeper shade of crimson. she thinks it’s absolutely adorable, how you still feel the need to ask. however, she forgets that she asks you that question each time as well. can she… kiss you here? right below your ear? that feel good?

she doesn’t respond with words, but with actions. she cups your cheek harder now and with fervour, and she knows she needs to be romantic but she’s famished, so as soon as she feels your lips part— she plunges her tongue deep inside and you surrender to her domination. almost like a waltz, your tongues dance together, swirling around each other and tasting— and she still doesn’t taste all that sweet, but you do, and it makes her brain feel like mush. you whimper into her mouth and it almost sounds like your “els”, and she knows she needs to come out for air soon and break off the kiss but how can she? how can she when you’re so damn sweet?

her hand dips lower, placing itself on your throat, and she gives you that little squeeze (that she realised must have made you feel good, because you always had chills when she did and she could feel them), and this time— you really did whimper out her name. ellie groans, but you abruptly break the kiss, holding on to your stomach. she pants slightly, before releasing your throat from her grasp. “did i do something?“ she asks quietly.

thing is, she truly didn’t. in fact, it was that damn bee colony that did. she must have heard them buzzing and flying into each other and bumping into your stomachs walls and dip even lower and— “can you hear them?” you question— and you’re panicking slightly, she can tell.

“hear who?”, ellie looks around, but nobody’s there. intruders? clickers? you must have drank too much, but you really hadn’t so…

“it’s so fuckin’ stupid…” you whine, lowering your head and hiding your face in the crook of her neck. ellie still thinks you must have heard something for real— and by all means, it is real, just not… like that. “hey” she encourages, placing her hand on the back of your neck. if she dares to even move it to the front of it, you’d panic again and be totally screwed. ellie notices you’re holding on to your lower stomach, “does it hurt?” she questions, worrisome.

“no… no, s’not that…” you voice, an octave higher than a whisper. “just when… when you kiss me? like, when you kiss me like that, you know?”, you hide your face again, and ellie’s worried sick— oh god, you hate it. you hate it when she kisses you.

you take a moment to gather your thoughts, you can explain this.

you breathe deeply, and ellie still holds the back of your head. “you know how people say… that you have… butterflies, when you’re around someone you like?”

“uh huh” ellie sighs. she gets it now. you don’t have those butterflies. you get sick when she kisses you, it makes your stomach hurt and you hate it and hate her and she knew you were too good for her and fuck.

“well, mine feel more like… well, they feel violent. it feels like i’m going to explode. i call them my bees, my bee colony, it’s so fucking stupid and i feel like they’re everywhere—“

oh.

ellie laughs (finally), breathlessly so, and she giggles and squeezes your body closer to hers and you continue to ramble, your voice slightly muffled by the fabric of her hoodie. she’s going to squeeze you so hard you might die, and you start banging your hands on her chest and you’re embarrassed, mortified at your little confession and the bees are so mad! they're calling for a conference call and you nearly explode.

“babe, babe—“ ellie calls out, forcing your head out of her neck and nearly begging you to look at her. you don’t though, you shut your eyes tight as she looks at you and thank god you do because she looks so amused but so enamoured she nearly doesn’t even want you to look.

“you wanna know what i have?” she probes, and you finally open one eye to take a peak. “no!”, and immediately— you shut it again. “i don’t have butterflies either” she calmly states, playfully pressing on your nose so you can huff out and look at her. when you do, you expect to see a smile— but instead, you’re faced with a serious expression, ellies eyebrows furrowing.

“i have wasps”

“wasps?” you doubt her quietly.

“mhm…” her lips part and she licks her bottom one before she speaks. “more like… tigers, or like, lions. way worse than yours. i mean, i’m in terrible condition”— she chuckles, and she just might be.

her words don’t comfort you, in fact, they make you buzz even louder.

doe eyed, you look up at her. “lions?”

“mhm” she nods. lions that might just tear you apart on the grass if you keep on looking at her like that.

this time, when she kisses you again— you don’t hold on to your stomach, you place your hand on hers. as the bees grow even louder, crashing into each other and ruining your slippery insides, you swear you can nearly hear her own lions roar alongside with your buzzing. she grabs your neck and squeezes it again, you nearly shriek, and ellie groans into your mouth and she’s the one to stop, but for an entirely different reason now. “inside?” she murmurs, staring at your glistening, kiss swollen lips and at the drool that runs on one corner. “please…” you whine, and ellie’s eyes nearly roll to the back of her head. please…? she repeats in her mind— and oh fuck.

⋆˙⟡♡

so she takes you inside, your hand in hers.

with the chocolate cake and the bottle of champagne and it’s glasses far forgotten, the sweet raspberry jam slowly melting away, the chocolate cake growing into a chocolate… pudding, the ants are sure to come. how pitiful, that bees will always triumph over them, and the wasps— or the lions, well, they triumph over everything.

what ellie wants to do right now, is take you up to her bedroom and ravish you in all your glory, but you’re no forgetful fool. with everything else washed away, how dare you forget her presents?, her moonflowers?

“ellie!” you exclaim, squeezing on her hand. “it’s nighttime! your birthday presents…” you wiggle out your eyebrows.

shit— she nearly forgot, she’s pretty sure that if someone placed an actual living and breathing dinosaur in her living room she wouldn’t even notice because you keep on rendering her a distracted mess.

besides, its your own fault, because how do you do that? how do you go from driving her crazy and making her want to eat you on the grass, to making her heart flutter and burst inside of her chest the moment after? you’re a magician, a witch, what the fuck are you? not a fairy— that’s for sure, fairies are scary.

“so… you wanna open them up or not?”

she wants to open you up. no, no! bad ellie! that’s definitely the champagne still talking (it’s long gone.)

“fuck yeah”

you grab the paper bags (with the little blue ribbon), and drag her upstairs. you physically drag her, because for some reason, opening her presents is making her incredibly nervous. you expected her to be more eager, to snap the bag out of your hand as soon as you allowed her, but instead— she sits on the bed and just waits. she’s waiting for you to hand them out to her.

the nervousness seems to eat you up as well, tummy aching (still the bees, but also some normal excitement)— and as you hand her the bag, a few questions start to arise.

what if she hates it? what if she hates flowers? what if she’s allergic to the ipomea alba, what if she starts sneezing and coughing and dying?! or what if she already managed to get over savage starlight? (in a matter of two days…) what if the cake sucked and she was lying all along and you’d disappoint her and she dumps you and—

“HOLY FUCKIN’ SHIT!!!!!!!!!” — she yelps, you didn’t even notice she opened the damn bag!

“this is…..” her eyes are bright and she smiles so big it nearly damn hurts the apples of her cheeks. “savage fucking star— fuck! s’the latest fucking one! how did you even manage to, fuck— gotta fuckin’ kiss you right now or i’d die”

ellie practically pounces on you, kissing you all over your face. cheeks— two kisses on each one, your nose, your forehead, your chin, both of your earlobes, “close your eyes, gotta kiss ‘em too”, your jaw, your neck…

“are you into me or something? cause it looks like you’re super into me, giving me this fuckin’ gift… dude. if you have feelings for me…”, she places her pointer and her middle finger on your chin and makes you look up at her. you stifle a giggle, “you gotta just tell me, might be into you too” she pecks your lip slowly and you instantly melt.

“we have to read it today… but only eight pages! gotta save it up”

she nearly buries her entire face in the comic book pages. she sniffs, “shit… even smells new” — a layer of fine dust adorns it, so you know it doesn’t.

“rented it from the library!” you chirp, the concept of libraries being one you merely only read about.

“there’s… something else in there too…” you begin. for some reason, giving her those flowers you picked makes you even more nervous. she curiously looks up at you. “there's more?”

you bend down to grab the paper bag off of the wooden floor. the moonflowers’ petals opened up, and there you were— awestruck again. “you can’t give me more things… it’s too much i don’t…” deserve it? you know she thinks so. regardless, she looks up at you adoringly, as your hand tremors and you lift the flowers out of the brown paper bag. you look at them, trying to decide if maybe you were just being delusional, maybe they’re not nearly as pretty as you thought they were when you came across them for the first time. perhaps they’re…

“woah…” ellie gazes at them, wide eyed. she doesn’t even know the meaning of them but yet she is nothing but mesmerised. “wh… what flower is this?” she asks, running her fingers on their dark green stems. when she reaches their creamy white petals, she moves her fingers even more delicately. caressing it, her knee nudges yours.

“moonflower” you reply silently, watching ellie’s digits adoring the bloom. “it’s… it’s really pretty”

you take a deep breath. “i picked it up cause… it reminds me of you”, you exhale, fiddling with your fingers. when she notices, she puts her hand, the one with the flowers in it— on top of yours. the room is quiet, except for ellie’s shallow breaths.

“it um… well… first of all, it’s beautiful, like you”, you flush, and ellie flushes as well. she swallows deeply, and involuntarily, a small “fuck” escapes from her throat.

“and… they’re not supposed to grow in jackson. it was purely by accident, so they’re special… like you, and uh… well, they only bloom during the night, which is why i waited. they’re strong, and they’re deadly, i mean— the venom is… so don’t… eat it, i guess.” you chuckle, and you barely even notice two fat tears streaming down your cheeks. “they remind me of you because they’re the prettiest flowers ive ever seen, and when i saw them… i was kinda of like… woah, just like what happened when i saw you for the first time, remember?” — ellie sniffles, and ellie’s crying. “so… you’re my moonflower”

ellie doesn’t know what to do. she looks up, covering her face with her hands. she wipes away a stupid tear, and then wipes away your precious one.

one whole minute passes.

“if i ever…” she begins, swallowing hard. “if i ever lose you? i think i might die” — because the moonflower needs sun to live, and you’re her sun, her lifeline.

you take her face in between your shaky palms. ellie’s lips hold a slight tremor, and then she laughs.

“i’m in love with you”

you don’t have to say it back. you really don’t, because again — actions speak louder than words. your soft lips meet her slightly chapped ones, and ellie hums into the kiss. different than the one before, this one is gentle, dim, the lust hasn’t disappeared— it’s still there, but it has something more to it, not diminishing it, just hovering above. could you guess what it is?

“i love y…” you whisper out, attempting to break the kiss, just if you could simply say this one thing, but ellie knows, she knows. she pulls you by the back of your neck more forcefully now, deepening the kiss. because you couldn’t finish your sentence, you pout— but ellie suckles on your bottom lip and wipes your silly pout away. her hand goes lower, from the back of your head to hold on to your waist, and she squeezes the covered flesh. you moan into the kiss, tasting her spit and her tongue, and oh god— the bees. you think you might have just another precious gift for her. one she’s been waiting for, one she’s been fantasising about, one that you’ve been fantasising about. when you moan into the kiss, ellie breaks it. she’s staring you down, panting again. “think i… have… one more gift” you whisper, and ellie— her lips parted, nods once. “one more?” she rasps, squeezing your waist again and pulling you up to straddle her. “mhm”, you hiccup as you feel yourself snugly pressed up against her.

she places one hand on your thigh, simply caressing it back and forth. the more up she goes, the more your breaths become uneven and so do her’s. it’s not entirely an unfamiliar territory— you've been seated on her lap a few times before (seven, but whos counting? she is), but this is… different. “whats your gift, huh?” she teases. you? are you going to be her gift? you always have been…

you whine when she traces small circles with her slender fingers on your clothed inner thighs. you whine and it makes ellie throb— you’ve never quite made that noise before, and she yearns to pull every single noise you could possibly make out of you. a whimper, a moan, god— a scream. she feels like she’s about to explode and christ, you’re still fully clothed.

like a hunter examining it’s prey, ellie moves her face forwards, and then downwards, towards your neck. she places a few chaste kisses, “ah! tickles…” ellie chuckles darkly, yearning to “tickle” you once more. she plants two more delicate, tickling kisses before suckling on the flesh. at first, her tongue meets your skin and she laps up at it. then, her teeth bite into it, and you nearly jump. “sorry… that hurt?” she asks, and really, she’s not sorry at all. “feels…” ellie cuts you off and sucks again. this time, she’s determined to leave a mark. “oh… feels…” you continue, shuddering in her arms like glass. she hasn’t even touched you, not really, and yet everything feels damp. your face, from your tears and from her tears and from spit, to the flesh of your neck that’s being sucked on and played with, down to the small wet patch inside your panties that you’d be mortified if she noticed.

when she finishes the assault on your neck, she moves up to your lips again and grunts when she sees how your lips were already parted, just for her. the kiss is slow, wet, her tongue kitten licking your own. it’s nasty, really, wet smacking and sucking noises filling the air. almost involuntarily, your hips start moving and grinding up against her thigh. ellie moans deeply. “mmph… yeah?” she teases, or at least tries to, because her voice is shaky and turned on to the max. she helps you move slightly, and my god she needs to take your pants off and feel your naked heat against her like this. when she thinks about what it must be like for you— she imagines your fat pussy lips squished up inside your panties, grinding on her thigh and she nearly loses it. she wants to help you grind harder… could she make you cum just from that? cum inside your pants whilst using her thigh? “fuuuck”, ellie groans and lifts her hand up, nearly smacking your ass but it ends up just landing on her own leg.

“s’not fair… what you’re doing…” she murmurs in your ear, “what did… what did i do?” you respond back, your voice high and needy. ellie doesn’t even know what she meant to say. all she knows is that it’s not fair. it’s not fair how you make her react and feel like this, the way your eyes glisten isn’t fair, the way you grind up on her thigh and make those sounds isn’t fair, the way you make her feel sticky and mushy and wet — without even taking your clothes off, isn’t fair.

still moving with fervour on top of her legs, her hand is dangerously close to where you need her the most. she nearly cups it, flips you over and ravishes you whole, but she stops herself. “can i please… take your fuckin’…” she rasps, running her short fingernails on your sides. she’s not scratching, but it’s not an entirely gentle movement either. she doesn’t know where to start, should she ask you to take your top off? your pants? — maybe she should just ask you to go completely naked. she settles on the little top, however.

you lift the fabric up slowly, but you do it out of nerves. as much as ellie wants it off, she lets you take it slow. you peel it off, exposing your skin inch by inch— do you even know how bad you’re teasing her right now? “ah, fuck” ellie groans out. when the shirt meets the top of your head, it gets stuck there for a second. you giggle nervously, your lacey bra on full display, and ellie considers just leaving you there to struggle by yourself. if your eyes are covered by the material, maybe you won’t notice how hard she’s staring. “need some help there, babe?” she teases as she leans back on her elbows. your laugh is muffled, and ellie chuckles. how are you so goddamn sexy and adorable at the same time? after ten whole seconds of struggling, ellie lifts it up for you. “there, good girl… wasn’t that hard, right? just needed my help?” she teases, and god is she mean— that little twinkle in her now much darker green eyes making you feel like your ears are about to melt off.

swiftly, ellie begins planting soft kisses all over your collarbones. her hand isn’t touching your breasts quite yet, but it’s hovering on top of them, and then you realize— she’s waiting for your approval, for your yes. you put your hands around her neck and push her forward, which makes her hands land on top of your breasts. ellie moans as soon as she feels them, and even though they’re covered by fabric — the lace is thin and she can feel your hardening nipples. she runs her thumb over the swollen buds and you shiver. “knew you’d be sensitive…” she murmurs to herself against your skin. “what did… uh, what did you say?”, you stutter, and then she looks up at you. “said…” she flicks it and you buck your hips. “fuck… knew you’d be sensitive”

she knew… you’d be? “you’ve, uh… thought about this before?” — and ellie chuckles, fully laughs nearly. if you only knew how many times she’s thought about this you’d probably crumble like a danish biscuit. “too many times” ellie confesses, and she almost gets too embarrassed to admit, but she swears she can feel a little wet patch on her jeans so she knows you must have thought about this as well, perhaps more than she has — but not likely. “i have too” you murmur shyly, and there it is.

“oh, really?” she asks, kissing right in between of your tits and making you jolt. if her lips feel this good on your chest… your eyes roll back to the top of your head. “so you’re just as filthy, huh?”, her right hand lands on your ass with the smallest smack, she knows she could make it hurt if she wanted to (and she does), but not yet. you jump and squeal, and in a random burst of confidence — “m’filthier…” you whisper.

with that, ellie grunts and takes your tits in her palms, she kneads the swollen flesh, pushing both of your breasts together and kisses right between the formed cleavage. “bet you’re filthier…” she whispers, opens her mouth so her tongue can stick out and lick between your cleavage line. when she does so, she brings her hand to your back and unclasps your bra with just her two fingers. she lets it cascade down, and she notices how shy you get, trying to bring your hands to cover yourself up. ellie is faster than you, and grabs both of your wrists so you can’t. you’re fully exposed, and ellie’s all pants and heavy breaths. when you try to wiggle yourself out of her grip, your tits move and bounce in the slightest, and ellie’s in trance. “you’re so… fuckin’ pretty” she takes your hard nipple in her mouth and you wince as soon as you feel her pink muscles wetness. “that feel good huh?” she takes your other breast in her hand and toys with it, palms it and making it shake.

with hungry kisses, she lays you down on her bed. you buck your hips forward, and ellie parts your legs with her own. she runs her hands all over your body, and before kissing you again, she stops. “els?” you ask, but ellie ignores you. ellie takes her top off, and fuck you’re nearly drooling. she wasn’t even wearing a bra, and her pretty pink nipples are just as hard as yours. you’re staring, and it’s ellie’s turn to go shy. “you like… ‘em?” she giggles, “shit, nevermind”

you don’t expect it, but ellie grabs the brown paper bag and pulls the moonflower bouquet out of it. “wh… what are you doing?”

“don’t worry about it” — she places the flowers on your chest. for some reason, your ears start to burn. “hold ‘em like that for me?” she asks, and you do. with ellie straddling you, it almost looks like she’s about to pull out a camera and take a picture. “perfect…” she murmurs, “feels like i marked you. s’over for you, you’re mine, y’know that?”

you think you’ve always known. “yours” you whisper coyly, giving her that toothy grin that makes her melt into a puddle. she leans forward, kissing the tip of your nose. “yours who?” she kisses your cheek, and then below it, and then on your jaw. “yours… ellie” — and she must be smiling, because you can feel her lips curl up on your skin.

she kisses you everywhere, on every scar, every blemish, sometimes she bites, but then soothes it with her tongue. you’re growing impatient, the pressure down your panties becoming insufferable. before she unbuttons your pants, she unbuttons her’s. she pulls them down, to sit right below her boxers covered ass. she comes up again, kissing on your tummy, and then — she puts her ear to it. “m’hearing them…” she murmurs. “they're… talking to me, the bees are begging me to fuc—“

“ellie!” you call out, embarrassed. you try and muffle your giggles with your hand but it’s all for nothing, because when she pulls your pants down you gasp. she takes a moment to stare, she could just stare at you forever, she thinks. ellie toys with the waistband of your panties, running her pointer finger on the line. she’s breathing heavy, and you’re nearly wheezing. she bends down to kiss your sopping covered cunt, “oh fu— wait!” you call out.

“i’m… i feel, i’m too shy i can’t…”, ellie smiles and kisses it again. she knows you are. “feels like i might—“ you cry out, feels like you might what?

“explode!”

“you might… but i got you, yeah?” ellie coos, and this time, she doesn’t kiss it, she runs her tongue along the wet patch. she wiggles it from side to side and fuck, she can taste you already and she thinks she might be addicted. your thighs tense and they involuntarily wrap around ellie’s head. she chuckles, and parts them apart. to soothe you, she runs her fingers on your inner thighs and caresses you gently. she kisses your clothed clit and she swears she just felt it pump. “awh… yeah?” she coos again, and it feel like she’s talking to your pussy and not to you. you whimper and drop your head back, and she sucks on it. she’s making the fabric grow nearly sheer with her tongue, and when she sees the outline of your pussy lips she moans deeply. “so wet…” she murmurs to herself, “this all for me, huh? did i do something?” she looks up at you, and your eyes are tightly shut, not even in a place where you feel like you can talk.

you’re fuzzy everywhere.

“can you answer me?” she warns, but chuckles when she sees your back arching as soon as she pulls your soaking wet panties to the side. you hum, “all f— for you”, but ellie doesn’t even hear it, because she’s faced with the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

your glistening folds, the tiny swollen button on top, and your hole practically clenching in and out over nothing and she thinks she might just die. she spits on it with a small “ptu”, watches as her warm saliva cascades down from your clit to your inviting hole. when you clench, your hole absorbs some of her spit and she groans deeply. “fuck that’s cute”

you’re panting, a sweet harmony of “please, ellie!” escaping your lips, and when you accidentally muttered a pathetic, squeaky “puhleaseee!” ellie scratched the idea of slowly, butterfly kissing your cunt till you’re begging and began placing an open mouthed kiss on it.

as her tongue meets your clit for the first time, you clutch your thighs around her head. it happens twice before she forces them open, “quit that, gotta see you” — she warns, and you listen because you just do. “look at me” she instructs, her voice muffled by your sweet pussy in her mouth. her tongue laps up the wetness from your hole, brings it to the top of your clit and sucks. ellie hums, she was right — you really are fuckin’ sweet. “so good…” she murmurs, “doin’ such a good job”, truly, you aren’t even doing anything, just squirming and whimpering under her touch. she moves her tongue around and you swear you just felt her spell something with it, “ellie!” you cry, and ellie’s breath hitches down her throat so she comes out for air and spits on your cunt again. she rubs the wetness with her fingers, then separates your pussy lips with her thumbs so she can see all of you.

you’re just like a flower, she thinks. slowly, she places her tongue on your clit again, but with her fingers on it still, she begins toying with your tight hole. she merely teases it, probing your entrance with her ring finger. “gonna put it inside, that okay?” she asks, but you’re unresponsive, a blabbering mess who doesn’t even remember her own name. ellie chuckles, she could probably do anything she wanted. she slips it inside, feeling your gummy walls squeezing her in, and she moans right when you do. “oh… gosh, ellie!”

“so fuckin’ tight” she whispers, returning her mouth on your clit and suckles deeply. she adds a second finger and now you’re gone, fully consumed by this filthy, pleasure filled monster. “i think m’gonna!” you cry and ellie whimpers out, nearly going cross eyed when she notices you’re toying with your nipples just like she did. “explode?” she breathlessly says. “c… cum!”

“good fuckin’…” she wants to complete that sentence, but instead her tongue dips lower and her hands push your thighs so your knees are pushed up against your chest. it goes even lower, licking your tightest entrance, the one that’s never been explored, not even by your own hands, and when she flicks her tongue upon it and then immediately goes back to your swollen clit you’re—

“cum’… m’cumming! m’cumming!” and yeah you are, ellie thinks, and slaps one of your thighs. you're jolting when you do, her name leaving your mouth like a prayer, and pray as much as you want but heaven will not be the one that accepts you, perhaps it’ll be purgatory, but with her in it it’s more than perfect. “uh huh… cum for me”

when you do, you see stars, and ellie sees moonflowers.

she laps up your saccharine juices, sucking them off her fingers one by one. you’re feeling faint, buzzing everywhere, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. ellie looks up at you, eyelids half shut. when you see the index finger that was deep inside of you just a moment ago, go inside her mouth, her pouty pink lips around them and she’s lapping it up and she’s greedy— you cringe a little. she’s tasting and tasting and humming, “told you… you’re sweet”

[marimbles]

happy holidays @0ellestrid0! I was your secret santa for @mlsecretsanta 💜

I don’t know much about solarpunk but I was intrigued by the concept and wanted to give it a shot! hopefully this is ok. random silly solarpunk AU ideas under the cut hehe

since solarpunk is about solar power and green/eco-friendly societal structure, I figured plants would be central to an ML solarpunk AU. it’s cool to imagine a version of Paris with lots of green areas and clever, space-saving, clean-energy solutions. I like the idea of the dupain-chengs having their own greenhouse where they grow ingredients for use in the bakery. And I wanted marinette to have her own greenhouse too where she grows plants that she uses as fibers and dyes for making clothes! So that’s what I drew here. Chat Noir likes to help marinette in her garden and he nerds out about the plants which she thinks is very cute:)

The plant in the middle is associated with ladybug and chat noir. I love sun/moon symbolism and that seemed to fit a solarpunk AU really well so I ran with it haha. in this AU I thought tikki could be a spotted sun beetle and plagg could be a black moon cat (or panther?). sun beetles would be associated with the sundrop plant (first image), and moon cats would be associated with moonflowers (second image). chat noir’s tattoo is a moonflower and in my mind ladybug would have a matching one that’s a sundrop.

The moonflower is inspired by the actual plant of the same name, which blooms only at night, except I wanted to also make it bioluminescent bc that’s cool lol. (I’ve been playing lots of tears of the kingdom and I always love the blue nightshades and silent princesses that glow blue in the dark!) irl moonflowers are actually a type of morning glory, which typically bloom in the morning in full sunlight and then close up at night. so in this AU the sundrop is the corresponding plant (since “sunflower” is already taken, haha) and it would also glow, but only during the day when it’s blooming.

I thought maybe sundrops and moonflowers could have magical effects and marinette is experimenting to discover them. maybe there’s stuff about them in the grimoire and she’s trying to unlock special powers for her and chat noir. maybe those effects and the symbolism of the plants could help her understand more about her and chat’s roles and abilities and potential and even help her discover the key to defeating hawkmoth…hmm… (I really haven’t thought too deeply about it lol I just like glowing plants)

As for their outfits…I was just trying to make them look sort of “punk”-y 😂 I feel like in all the punk AUs like steampunk, cyberpunk, etc, people are always wearing goggles and boots and aprons and vests and stuff with pockets and zippers and arm braces. So. I made a vague attempt fjdkkd

anyway thanks for humoring me with my rambling lol I hope you enjoy and that you had a good holiday!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 38

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: I've been awake since 2am.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

After breakfast, you get ready to go into town with Frigga and Hela upon their vaunted ladies’ trip. An air of uncertainty persists around what exactly that means. Flowers, shopping, and what else?

You try not to let the mystery overshadow the Odinsons’ hospitality. You’d hate to come across ungrateful after all they’d done. Odin and Frigga hadn’t asked for anything in return all while receiving you with an open hand. Just like with all things, you go along to get along.

The drive has you in a sort of trance as you watch the landscape pass. The lush greens and speckles of violet and pink across the fields, thickening to looming forest of coniferous pines and towering oaks. Finally, the wilds thin into even ground and open into a township with a painted wooden sign.

The buildings are old but well-kept. Not like the large city with its pitted brick and steaming sewers. Every street here is like those that surround Laufeyson’s own estate. Curated and pristine. Just like the Odinsons themselves.

You pull in at a large gated lot. The iron barrier is overgrown with flowers and as you enter, you gape around at the expanse of petals and stems. You’ve never been anywhere so spectacular.

You trail behind Frigga as she browses the selection. You shy away from Hela but she’s hardly concerned with you as she admires a bunch of dark roses. You peer around as an assistant approaches at Frigga’s signal.

“What do you think, dear?” Frigga calls to you, “we want white for the event. Lilies, baby’s breath, gardenia?”

You blink and give some thought, “what about daisies?”

She smiles, “daisies, so simple but pretty.” She turns to the assistant, “do you have many?”

“We should have a few boxes ready for delivery,” she answers.

“Wonderful, we will have some daisies. Oh, and we could have some wisteria hanging. Mm, and miss, white tulips? You have those too?”

The assistant scribbles on her pad, “we can do those as well.”

“Hydrangea,” Hela insists as she approaches, standing behind you, “for the posts.”

“Yes, certainly, hydrangea,” Frigga repeats with a sharp point to the assistant. “Oh and lastly, I spoke with Val about the moonflowers, tell me they’re ready.”

“Yes, Mrs. Odinson, we have those set aside already.”

“Good, good,” Frigga remarks, “well, we’ll look around a bit more and let you know if anything else is required.”

“Yes, Mrs. Odinson,” the assistant nods and prompts strolls away.

“You wouldn’t like a splash of red, mother? Maybe some black?” Hela muses, “this Walpurgisnacht will be blinding.”

“Oh, tosh,” Frigga dismisses, “we have a theme. Which reminds me, darling,” she turns to you, “do you have a white dress packed?”

“White?” You blink, “um, no, I didn’t…”

“Not to worry, it’s why we came to town,” she tweets.

“Oof, mother,” Hela cringes. 

“Well, I know you certainly don’t have suitable attire,” Frigga reproaches.

“Actually, I’ve a marvelous white jumpsuit selected for just the event,” Hela challenges, “I can listen, I just often choose not to.”

Frigga gives a pinch look before she returns her attention to you, “well then, our task will be easier. I think chiffon might be nice…”

“You know, mother, I do feel as if I’m being replaced,” Hela snickers. You send her a guilty look but her smile holds no malice. She winks and arches a brow. “And yet I do think this little creature will look delectable in white.”

“Mm, yes,” Frigga side-eyes her daughter, “you do have a way with words, don’t you?”

“Oh, pardon me, I should be more like my brothers, would you prefer Thor,” Hela mocks and reaches for your hand, taking it as she caresses it emphatically, “oh lady, you are beautiful, I should wonder if what you hide under your skirt is equally as stunning–”

“Hel,” Frigga exclaims, mortified as she snatches her grasp away from you.

“Ah, alright, Loki,” Hela clears her throat and stiffens her posture, adjusting a non-existent tie, “yes, you are rather adequate. Hm, very acceptable.”

“Don’t,” Frigga commands, “you didn’t have to come if you’re only going to make a joke of it.”

“Oh, mother, that’s simply what it is, a joke,” Hela bats her lashes, “loosen up. Is that not what this day is for? To enjoy ourselves?”

Frigga sighs and shakes her head as she turns away. Your mouth slants as you watch after her nervously. Hela clucks and flicks her fingers dismissively, “once she has a taste of wine, she’ll let go.”

✨

You stand in the fitting room, staring dreadfully at the two hangers. One chosen by Frigga, the other by Hela. They are both beautiful but you’re not certain either of them suit you. You feel the long chiffon as you mull over the choice.

“Well, darling, let us see,” Frigga calls through the curtain.

You wince and recoil. You pull down the longer of the two, the flowy chiffon that caught Frigga’s eye. The one-shoulder cut cinches to draped skirt which drowns you. You look at yourself in the mirror and frown. The fabric seems to drown you.

You turn with a swish and pull back the curtain, stepping through awkwardly as you tug the skirt out of the way of your feet. Hela makes a noise somewhere between a snort and a gasp. Frigga fawns and daintily touches her cheeks.

“Oh, gods, that is gorgeous, isn’t it?” She comes forward and pinches a fold in the skirt.

“She looks like she’s caught in a snowstorm,” Hela muses, “please, she won’t be able to do much in all that.”

“I suppose,” Frigga backs up and folds her arms, “but I like the style, perhaps we might find something similar with less length.”

“Try mine,” Hela demands.

You look between them, not daring to argue with either. They seem to do enough of that. You spin and sweep behind the curtain once more. You shed the chiffon layers and pull on the satin sheath. There isn’t much to it. Thin straps and not much length, a slit up your thigh. It’s more lingerie than a dress.

You peek out shyly before you make yourself come out. Frigga’s face flushes and her lips part. Hela smirks and tilts her head as she bites her lip.

“Oh, fabulous,” Hela remarks.

“She cannot wear that,” Frigga throws a hand up.

“Why not, she has nice legs.”

“That isn’t… appropriate.”

“Well, mother, she can’t dress like an old matron either.”

“It was a perfectly nice dress–”

“For 1912,” Hela shoots back.

You shrink before them and let their back and forth fade into the background. You glance over the rack of white garments and zone out. You just want this to be over. You’re tired of being pulled back and forth like a game of tug-of-war.

Your name draws you back and you focus on the women watching you. You wince and teeter on your feet, “sorry, I was distracted.”

“I was saying,” Hela intones, “we should let you choose.”

“Me?” You blanch.

“Well, it is your dress,” Frigga utters reluctantly.

“Oh, but I… don’t know much about… clothes.”

“Never too late to learn,” Hela insists, “go on, have your pick. Surprise us.”

You glance back at the rack and wiggle your fingers. You slowly approach as the two other women retreat, still muttering to each other. You push through the hangers; too heavy, too stiff, too sheer.

You think you like this one. A simple sheath lining with a mesh overlay, little crepe flowers sewn into the out later. The straps are slender but the bodice is straight cut. It’s wonderful and dreamy. You take the hanger and quickly scurry back behind the curtain.

You switch out the short dress for your pick. You look at your reflection and nearly stagger. You love it. It’s adorable. You go to the curtain and brace yourself. What if they don’t like it? You exhale and ready yourself for disappointment.

You step through and the women face you. Neither say a word as they look at you. They consider you, eyeing you head to toe. Oh no! It’s hideous, isn’t it? You have no taste.

“I love it,” Hela chirps, “what about you, mother? Isn’t it gorgeous on her?”

“I… it’s so… you,” Frigga squeals, “yes, it’s perfect. And the little flowers. Ugh, amazing.”

“Really?” You stand on your toes nervously.

“You must have it,” Hela insists, “next, shoes… the pairing must be perfect.”

“Shoes…” you murmur. Does it ever end?

✨

Your day doesn’t end after the boutique. The tumultuous night slumps in your shoulders and droops in your eyelids as the hours stretch on. Your next stop is a sleek white building with sparkling glass doors. As you enter, the sterile lobby has you minimizing yourself in fear of staining the pure white tile or breaking the crystal counter.

Frigga and Hela strut towards the woman who stands behind the glass table and greet her breezily. She welcomes them by name as you trail behind like a mouse. You don’t belong here. Not a place like this. You might be with them but you’re not one of them.

Once more, you sink into a daze, trying to distance yourself from the present. From those feelings of unbelonging. Those old wounds from the schoolyard when you stood by the fence and kicked rocks, not daring to provoke anyone with an errant gaze.

“Dear,” Frigga jars you as she gently touches your arm, “did you have ID?”

“ID?” You say dumbly, not processing her request at first.

“They serve alcohol so it’s required to check-in,” she explains.

“Oh, um, yeah,” you clumsily grab your purse and unzip the top. You dig out your ID card and hand it over. Frigga has a brief glance at it before handing it over. The twitch beneath her eye worries you; has it expired?

You wait as Hela taps her short nails on the counter top. Finally, the woman behind the counter approves you for entry. You still don’t really get what this place is. There’s no signs aside from the marquee in swoopy cursive; Hvergelmir.

Another woman appears and takes you through an angular doorway. You’re guided to a private room with robes on hooks, cushioned benches and small cubbies. You watch Hela and Frigga as they remove their heels and set them on the low rack. You do the same, doing everything they do at a delay.

They tuck their bags into the cubbies and undress without shame, keeping only their underwear on as they wrap themselves in the silken robes. You face the corner as you strip and pull on a robe yourself.

It isn’t until you move on to the next room that you realise what this place is. A spa. You’ve never been to one but it’s exactly like you’ve seen on television. You recline as a woman smears your face with a mask and places cucumbers over your eyes. It’s relaxing even if it feels a bit strange.

After laying there for what seems like forever, a woman comes in to offer stemmed glasses of sparkling wine. You remove the sliced veggies from your eyes and accept one in kind with the other women.

“I think I might get a wrap,” Hela declares, “I need the cleanse.”

“Mm, I think I might do the steam room,” Frigga drawls before she sips from her glass. You take a tiny sip, reminding yourself of your last indulgence and the disaster that followed. Hela downs half the glass in a single gulp.

“What about you?” Hela looks at you pointedly. “Would you like to join me for the seaweed wrap?”

“Um, what is that?” You ask.

“Oh, darling,” Frigga sits up and grabs a leather folio, “have a look. You can choose whatever you like.”

You accept the little booklet and open it up to the laminated inside. You read through each item and the description below. The steam room sounds uncomfortable, you’re not a fan of sweating, and the seaweed thing sounds slimy…

“Mud bath?” You read allowed.

“Good choice,” Hela praises, “I might join you after my wrap.”

“Oh, okay,” you close the book and put it on the small round table close to you.

Frigga picks up the small golden bell and rings it. The same woman appears and Frigga lists off the treatments for each of you. She’s led away first, then someone comes to fetch Hela, and finally, you’re taken away by another woman with a high ponytail.

The woman helps you cover your hair with a towel and hands you back your wine glass. She leads you into a room with long rectangular tubs filled with reddish brown muck. She points you to one at the end and you put your glass on the little ledge that juts out from the side.

She helps you remove your robe, “you can keep your underwear on if you like. We can provide a fresh pair after, but you may want to remove your bra.”

You nod and dip your head down to unhook your bra. She reaches to take it and you hesitantly hand it over. She hangs your robe from a hook on the wall and leaves you there. Alright, so you just get in?

You step over the high wall of the tub and lower yourself into the warm mud. It doesn’t feel too bad. You slide around slightly before you’re able to find your bearings and reclining against the slanted back. Is this relaxing? 

You close your eyes but not for long. You end up staring at the lines between the ceiling tiles. You stir the mud with your fingers. You feel childish, like you're making mud pies.

You stop as you hear voices. You peek over for just a moment as someone else enters. A tall woman with a swirl of black hair escaping the towel on her head strides in, her tall figure draped in one of the ivory robes. The attendant takes her to the tub across from yours.

You try not to watch as she opens her robe, revealing her sleek body shamelessly. She eases into the tub with a sigh and the attendant leaves. You keep your eyes up as tension fills the space.

“The mud is nice today,” she says, startling you.

You nod and look at her as she stretches her arms around the walls of the tub. Her chest is barely concealed by the muck.

“You don’t come here often. I’ve not seen you around.”

You shake your head, “first time.”

“Ah,” her blue eyes gleam, “special occasion?”

“Erm, not really, I… Walpurgisnacht,” you pronounce the word delicately.

“That’s not for a few days,” she intones.

“You know it?”

“Yes, of course, everyone around here does. And this year, with Frigga hosting, it will be a spectacle.”

“You know Frigga?” You wonder.

She laughs, “of course I do. Who doesn’t?” Her tone is dry and her expression haughty, “how do you know her?”

“Um, I… work for her son,” you utter flatly.

“Thor?”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you correct her.

“How amusing,” she smirks, “what’s your name?”

You answer, your chest binding up tightly. You feel like you shouldn’t be talking to her. Something about the way she grins.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she purrs, “I’m Sif. You might tell my ex-husband I send my regards.”

You swallow dryly and stare at her. Your heart is pounding and your ears ringing. Sif? In the flesh? She’s absolutely gorgeous. You can see why she haunts the Odinsons. She’s perfect. 

Now you know why you will never live up to Laufeyson’s expectations. Why he’s so hard to please. Compared to her, well, you can never compare to her. She is immaculate.

[echo-goes-mmm]

Moonflower #17

Masterpost

Previous

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Warnings: implied domestic abuse

Iris woke up with a throbbing headache. She had been tucked into bed, which she didn’t remember doing.

The morning light filtered through her windows, and it made her head pound.

But in order to close the curtains, she’d have to get up.

Iris groaned and pulled her blanket over her head.

“Oh good,” said a quiet voice. “You’re awake.”

It took her a moment to recognize that it was Kit. “What time is it?” she mumbled. 

“Twelve after ten.”

Alarm ran through her, and she shot up. She winced.

“Take it easy,” said Kit. “It’s your day off.”

“Oh thank god.” Iris fell back against her pillows, vaguely nauseous. Kit stood next to her bed, amused. 

“Did you even go to bed?” she asked. 

“I slept.”

“In your room?”

“You were drunk. I wanted to keep an eye on you.”

“Thanks,” she said, closing her eyes. “Could you go get me some breakfast? With orange juice?”

Iris was aware she was whining, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at the moment. She could have asked Kit to magic away her hangover, but she deserved it for drinking so much. Served her right.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Kit left, and Iris lay in her bed, trying to will herself to shower. 

The need to use the bathroom eventually forced her out of bed.

Showering did make her feel better, and the floral soap lifted her mood.

By the time she had finished and gotten dressed, Kit had breakfast waiting for her.

“Have you eaten?” she asked, uncovering the french toast and pouring herself coffee.

“Yes,” he said.

“Good.”

Kit sat on the floor as she ate, and Iris could see a strong dark green coming in at his scalp.

“Your hair isn’t black, is it?”

He seemed startled by the question. “No,” he said simply.

“It’s changing color,” she continued, “You’ve got some green coming in. I take it that’s good?”

A faint smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Mhm.”

Slight disappointment coursed through her.

It seemed that for every day Kit had a conversation with her, he’d be nearly silent the next.

“Let’s get some sun after breakfast,” she suggested. “I’ve been inside all week, and you need to pick out where your garden will be.”

“I get to choose?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Kit shrugged halfheartedly. Getting words out of him would be difficult today; she could tell.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he had said that first evening. Maybe he just needed a topic.

“Have you thought about what you want to do with it?” she asked.

“A little.” Iris waited, taking a sip of her orange juice.

“I… I’d like it to look like home,” he explained, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. “Just a bit.”

“Are you going to plant some wild roses?”

Kit nodded. “If I’m allowed.”

Iris stood from her chair. “You can plant whatever you want, Kit.”

“Even a tree? Ivy? Berry bushes?” he asked, following her out the door.

“I did say whatever you want.” Brennan greeted them with a nod, and they headed down the hall. “I’m not particularly interested in gardening, Kit. I don’t care what you plant; go wild.”

Kit brightened beside her, and Iris hid a smile. He was sweet, and he deserved a place that was his; that he could choose himself.

The late morning air was warm, slightly humid, and she assumed that was good for a plant fae like Kit.

He seemed to soak in the sun, and he truly looked much better than before.

Jeff was weeding a flower bed, wheelbarrow beside him and trowel in hand.

“Good morning, Jeff.”

Jeff looked up, and squinted in the bright sun.

“Morning, your majesty.” His eyes slid over to Kit, who winced. “Morning… you.”

“Hello,” said Kit. 

“I’ve offered Kit a spot on the grounds. Something just for him to look over.”

Jeff didn’t look pleased, but he knew better than to argue with her. “Fine with me,” he said tightly. 

“Great,” Iris gave him a sunny smile. “Thank you for understanding.”

Jeff softened a little before turning back to his work.

They wandered the gardens; Kit looking around for the perfect spot.

“Anything catch your eye yet?”

“Sorry,” he said.

“No, it’s fine,” she reassured him. “I don’t mind. I could use the exercise.”

They rounded a corner, and Kit stopped.

“What is it?”

“I, uh, I like that corner over there.”

Iris followed his gaze. The high garden wall met the castle, and the castle wall curved inwards, creating a small nook. It was empty, save for a tree that created a patch of shade against the sun.

“What do you like about it?” she asked lightly, curious.

Pink tinged Kit’s cheeks. “It’s quiet,” he said. “And out of the way. And, um, it looks nice for a nap,” he added quickly. “And the walls… I don’t have to worry about someone sneaking up on me.”

Iris recalled how James Harbor had boasted about catching Kit with an iron-laced net while he slept.

“Then it’s yours.”

___________________

Three days later, and Kit dozed under the oak. It was the perfect temperature; warm but not hot, and he curled into the protective roots of the tree.

A robin sang sweetly in the branches, and Kit hummed along.

Iris was busy in a meeting, and he had wanted a nap to pass the time.

He was right about how peaceful it was.

It seemed like this spot had been forgotten about, and he liked it that way. The perfect little oasis; where he could be left alone.

“Mr. Kit?”

Or not.

Kit yawned, stretching out. “Hm?”

“I- I need some help.”

Kit’s eyes flew open, and in front of him stood the red-haired maid from before. David.

He had a black eye, and he was holding a rucksack.

Kit sat up. “What happened?”

David sniffed, lip trembling, and Kit noticed his slight sway.

“Hey,” he said, softly. “Come here.”

David sank into the grass, and Kit scooted over to sit next to him.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” said David. “I- I should b-be at home. But I don’t want to go home anymore.”

His breath smelled like alcohol.

“Have you been drinking?”

David nodded, resting his chin on his legs. “I thought it would help,” he said. “It always helps Dad.”

“It doesn’t really work that way.”

David burst into tears.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” he sobbed. “My face hurts and he takes all my money and now we don’t have anything for food because he spent it all and he gets mad at me for it and-”

David gasped for air, and Kit pulled him close. David wept into his shirt.

“I-” Kit worked his jaw, trying to sort out what he could and couldn’t say. “Are you hungry?” he settled on. Food never hurt anyone.

David nodded. “Y-yeah. We- we ran out of… I really tried. I really did.” His voice was so small, and anger bubbled in Kit’s chest.

“Let’s go get some lunch, and we’ll figure something out.”

David sniffled. “Okay.”

taglist: @paintedpigeon1 @cupcakes-and-pain @loserwithsyle @cepheusgalaxy @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @virtualbreadtale @bitchaknso @starfields08000 @honeycollectswhump @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

[the-mortuary-witch]

SELENE

WHO IS SHE?

Selene is the Greek goddess of the moon and lunar deity. In Greek mythology, she is said to be the daughter of Titan God’s Hyperion and Theia and sister of Helios, the god of the sun, and Eos, the goddess of the dawn

BASIC INFO:

Appearance: Selene is often depicted as a young and beautiful woman, with flowing hair and a silvery or golden aura. In some representations, she is shown riding a chariot or a team of oxen. In other representations, she is shown wearing a diadem and a flowing gown, holding a torch or a lunar disc. Her appearance is often depicted as radiant, shining and otherworldly, embodying the power and mystery of the moon and the night sky.

Personality: she is often depicted as a serene and mysterious Goddess with a quiet and ethereal presence. She is associated with the natural world and the passage of time, and is often depicted as a gentle and nurturing figure who brings comfort and stability to those who call on her. Selene is also known for her ability to inspire dreams and visions, and is often depicted as a source of wisdom and insight. She is often depicted as possessing a gentle and soothing energy, and is seen as a figure of illumination and peace.

Symbols: crescent, torch, chariot, billowing cloak, bull, stars, moon, horse, lunar cycle, torch, and bull horns

Goddess of: the Moon

Culture: Greek

Plants and trees: willow, moonflower, lavender, wisteria, oak, lilac, birch, rose, dandelion, jasmine, and forget-me-nots

Crystals: freshwater pearl, star moonstone, peristerite, black pearl, cats eye moonstone, gypsum, spectrolite, Tahitian pearl, adularia, girasol quartz, satin spar, frosterly marble, green calcite, nacre, pearl, blue topaz, rainbow moonstone, feldspar, howlite, selenite, labradorite, moonstone, and orange calcite

Animals: horse, bull, mule, and ox

Incense: frankincense, rosemary, guaiac, orris root, and tonka bean

Colours: silver, blue, white, and grey

Numbers: 3, 28, and 30

Zodiac: Cancer

Tarot: The Moon, The Star, and Temperance

Planets: Moon

Days: Monday, Pandia, Noumenia, Heliogenna, and Mounykhia (maybe)

Parents: Hyperion and Theia

Siblings: Helios and Eos

Partner: Endymion

Children: fifty daughters, Pandia, Ersa, The Menai (Menae), and Musaeus

MISC:

• Selene was sometimes associated with Witchcraft and sorcery.

• She had many lovers and was often depicted with the mortal prince Endymion.

• She was the mother of several Gods.

• Selene was said to have a close relationship with Leto, mother of Apollo and Artemis.

• She was sometimes associated with the harvest, cycles of growth, and decay.

• Was often associated with the Phases of the Moon, and is said to control the cycle of time.

• She is often depicted wearing a diadem, a shining crescent on her forehead, or a shining veil.

• She has the power to inspire sleep and dreams, and is often invoked by those seeking guidance or insight.

• She was worshipped as a Goddess of prophecy and dreams, and is often depicted with a lunar disc or a torch.

FACTS ABOUT SELENE:

• Selene is often depicted with a crescent moon headdress.

• She was often venerated in ancient Greek religious ceremonies.

• Selene was often invoked in poetry and literature.

• Her radiance was believed to have a calming influence on the world.

• Selene's worship was intertwined with the practice of lunar divination.

• Her mythology inspired artistic representations in sculpture and painting.

• Selene's influence extended to the realm of astronomy and celestial observations.

• Her name is derived from the Greek word for "moon."

HOW TO WORK WITH SELENE:

Working with Selene involves connecting with the energy and symbolism associated with the deity of the moon. Some examples include performing rituals dedicated to Selene and offer her gifts and prayers during the new, full, or crescent moon, contemplate the symbols associated with Selene, such as the moon, stars, and night sky, connect with nature and work on balancing your emotions and inner wisdom, and make a lunar calendar to track the phases of the moon and their effects on your life.

PRAYER FOR SELENE:

"Oh Selene, maiden of the moon,Your brilliant light shines upon me tonight. As the tides rise and fall, so too does my spirit ebb and flow. In your silver light, I find solace, and in your dark embrace, I find peace. Grant me wisdom and guidance, as the phases of the moon guide me on my path.”

“Thank you for illuminating my journey,And for the mystery and beauty that you bestow. Blessed be, Selene. So mote it be."

SIGNS THAT SELENE IS CALLING YOU:

• A strong fascination or attraction to the moon and night sky.

• Desire to explore your intuition and inner wisdom.

• Sense of being drawn to lunar rituals or practices such as moon bathing or moonstone work.

• Experiences or dreams related to the moon, night, or the sea

• Feeling of needing to balance your emotions or connect with your inner feminine power.

• Sense of comfort or connection to the darker aspects of the natural world.

• An increased awareness or fascination with the cycles of the moon and the passage of time.

• A sense of serenity, mystery, or introspection in response to natural surroundings, such as a quiet night sky, a peaceful forest, or a calm body of water under the light of the moon.

OFFERINGS:

• Moon water.

• Dew.

• Glitter/shiny objects.

• Olive oil.

• Water.

• Fruit.

• Moon-shaped things.

• Flowers.

• Photos or depictions of the moon and/or stars.

• Honey.

• Nephalia (wineless libation)

• Statues of horses.

• Cakes.

• Milk.

• Crystals: moonstone, quartz, selenite, and pearl.

• White foods in general.

• Depictions of horses and/or bulls

DEVOTIONAL ACTS FOR SELENE:

• Learning about moon phases.

• Donate to organizations helping new mothers in need.

• Sing or play music for her.

• Greet her when you see the moon in the sky.

• Take care of your mental and physical health.

• Go on a moonlit stroll.

• Learn about moon magic.

• Honour her on the full moon and the new moon.

• Write or read her poetry.

• Staying up late.

• Watching the moon.

• Learning about the different types of moons (Supermoon, Harvest Moon, etc).

• Star gazing.

• Learning about the constellations.

IS IT SAFE TO EAT OR DRINK AN OFFERING I GIVE TO HER?

It is generally safe to consume an offering you give to Selene, as it is intended as a symbolic act of devotion and reverence. However, if you have any concerns about the safety or suitability of the offering, it is advisable to use common sense and listen to your own intuition before consuming it. Additionally, while it is common to incorporate organic, nature-based offerings like water, wine, or fruit into rituals or offerings for Selene, you may want to avoid offering toxic or harmful substances

[lgbtqreads]

hi! i’m looking for some nonbinary/trans books. preferably middle grade, maybe younger YA. queer joy is a bonus!

You got it! There are all MG, with asterisks signifying books coming later in the year:

Trans Boys:

Obie is Man Enough by Schuyler Bailar

The Ship We Built by Lexie Bean

Dear Mothman by Robin Gow

The Other Boy by M.G. Hennessey

Too Bright to See by Kyle Lukoff

Trans Girls:

Zenobia July by Lisa Bunker

Joy, to the World by Lisa Bunker and Kai Shappley

Melissa by Alex Gino

Gracefully Grayson by Ami Polonsky

The Deep & Dark Blue by Niki Smith (Graphic Novel)

The Ojja-Wojja by Magdalene Visaggio (text) and Jenn St-Onge (illustration) (Graphic Novel)

Nonbinary MCs:

*Deephaven by Ethan M. Aldridge

Moonflower by Kacen Callender

Alice Austen Lived Here by Alex Gino

*Green by Alex Gino

*The Lonely Book by Meg Grehan

Skating on Mars by Caroline Huntoon

*Elle Campbell Saves Their Saturday by Ben Kahn

Both Can Be True by Jules Machias (Genderfluid)

The One Who Loves You Most by medina – A

Rabbit Chase by Elizabeth LaPensée and K.C. Oster (Graphic Novel)

Tiger Honor by Yoon Ha Lee

Sir Callie and the Champions of Helston by Esme Symes-Smith

The Beautiful Something Else by Ash Van Otterloo

Spin With Me by Ami Polonsky

Jude Saves the World by Ronnie Riley

Ana on the Edge by A.J. Sass

Ellen Outside the Lines by AJ Sass

Camp QUILTBAG by Nicole Melleby and AJ Sass

The Fabulous Zeb Watson! by Kevin Sylvester and Basil Sylvester

The Best Liars in Riverview by Lin Thompson

The House that Whispers by Lin Thompson (Amz)

*The Otherwoods by Justine Pucella Winans

There is also very significant nonbinary representation in Different Kinds of Fruit by Kyle Lukoff, Twelfth by Janet Key, and A Touch of Ruckus by Ash Van Otterloo.

In younger YA, there's not a ton, but I'd definitely give a shout to the genderqueer paranormal Out of Salem by Hal Schrieve, and I think the trans girl graphic novel romance Cheer Up! could work too!

(If you want all these links on one page, and/or to track ones coming up even further in the future, here's the MG page: https://lgbtqreads.com/middle-grade/)

[oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat]

Ferns & Flowers

Guess who finally rewrote and revived a lost fic? Very excited to post this because it got yeeted into the Aether by Tumblr, but I revived it. Hurt/Comfort because I am weak. Enjoy!

This is also made for this year's @intrualityweek (2023)! Day 5, Gifts. The alternate used to combine with it is Flowers. I only wrote for one of the days because I have too many other projects to finish and get out.

Part 2 coming soon.

(a lil present for @rataticaisdreaming)

Pairing: platonic Intruality, gen

Trigger/Content Warning: intrusive thoughts, gory commentary, sexual humour, past domestic violence (mentioned), gun

Description: A florist and a botanist work in similar fields of study, yet they've never became acquainted. Who knew one little trade-off would begin such a strange friendship?

[Masterlist] | ao3 link | Next

[Read under the cut]

Remus never once thought he'd be so interested in plants, not until he learned about the poisonous ones and took up a career in Botany.

As a botanist, and as Remus, he'd named his own little shop after one of his favourite hyperfixations. Dahmer's Plant Hoard definitely attracts a variety of people, but who would Remus be to judge? Some come for the poisonous plants to study. Some come for the non-lethal ones to add to a gift for someone. There are even the times when Botany students will come in and ask to study a plant for a paper.

Supply usually outweighs demand in his field, but there's always outliers. A few of the more popular plants need to be restocked every now and then. Luckily, his shop is across the street from a florist, who seems to have every flower imaginable. He hadn't met them yet, though they work in similar fields. It's about time, anyway. Remus needs more moonflowers for an order due in a few weeks, and the florist would be the perfect person to buy them from.

This florist owns their own shop, and they tend to have lower prices than most places do. That, and customers always talk about how kind and generous they are. At least, from what Remus has heard.

Remus closes up his shop. It's been a slow and boring day, and perhaps meeting this florist will give him some excitement. He goes through a last-minute mental list. All his plants are watered, his cash register is secured, and the spare gloves are put away in their respective space. Everything is locked up as he leaves his plant business, wondering how the florist will be. Maybe they'll be as eccentric as he is! Or they could be a murderer in disguise. That'd be funny. As long as they aren't boring.

Crossing the street, he swears he can almost hear a dolphin whistling in the distance. He dismisses it as the wind.

But there's hardly a breeze blowing by.

~~~

The flower shop is called Pawprint Florals, written in a pretty blue font on the sign.

Remus can see the pastel colours from outside through the display windows. Blue, green, and some other colours decorate the walls. There's puppies and baskets of all kinds of flowers painted neatly, giving the inside quite a kiddish look. It's bright and vibrant, almost to an annoying point. Still tolerable, though. I mean, Remus isn't one to shy away from obnoxious colours and things. He literally dyed his hair radioactive green during his entire high school career; he couldn't care less about 'annoying'. 

Walking in, a small bell chimes. A donation box sits on the counter, where the florist messes with a bouquet of ferns and forget-me-nots. The donation box is decorated with pawprints and tiny penciled hearts. It says something about a local animal shelter needing funds for maintenance and food upkeep. It smells like an assortment of flowers, Remus notes as he spots a glass door behind the counter. It reads 'employees only'. Probably leads to the greenhouse. Where else would you get all those flowers and flora? Shipments take forever, ya know. Better to grow and store what you've got. 

As soon as Remus comes up to the counter, the florist abandons the bouquet and sets it down somewhere safe behind the counter. They flash a cheerful smile, pushing up their round-framed glasses on their nose.

"Hi, and welcome to Pawprint Florals! How may I help you today, kiddo?" they say just as cheerfully as their smile.

Remus blinks for a second at how utterly joyful this person is. Of course, before he leans against the counter in his chaotic glory and flashes a toothy smirk.

"Did ya know if you made moonflowers into tea, it would kill anyone who drank it?" is Remus' response.

The florist pauses, a little hesitant with that kind of information, but keeps their smile on their face.

"Are... are you looking for moonflowers?" they ask.

Remus hums, nodding his head.

"Oh! Well, I may have a few in the back," the florist pulls out a pen and a notepad. "Who are they for? I can make you a note for them."

They look down briefly to scribble something- probably about the moonflowers- before looking back up and changing their smile to a softer kind one. It's less than their previous smile, but it captivates Remus nonetheless. This florist is very pretty. And cute, considering their outfit.

They wear light blue overalls with a white-greyish undershirt. There's a floral-themed sticker nametag right above where their heart is, the name Patton written in a fun font. The florist- Patton, Remus' brain corrects him- has freckles all over their face and what he can see of their arms. Sandy-blonde curls. Dirt smudged on one cheek. Their nametag has the italicized pronouns they/them right under their name. 

They are so adorable.

Remus must've been staring at this human version of a golden retriever because Patton makes a concerned head tilt at him.

"Are you okay, kiddo?"

They frown slightly, and Remus wishes the smile would come back.

"Absolutely! As okay as maggots eating a cadaver."

Remus' grin convinces Patton of the truth, though they cringe at the mental image of a bug-infested corpse.

"Uh, alright then... for your order, who do you want it dedicated to?"

"No one! I need it for my shop 'cross the street."

"Oh, you're the botanist! I've been meaning to run into you. This is perfect, actually."

Remus watches as Patton waves him to come behind the counter, following them over to the greenhouse's door. They unlock it, shoving the key into a hidden pocket on the inside of their overalls. The duo heads into the greenhouse.

There are shelves upon shelves of potted flora, ranging from common roses to even a few rare Chocolate Cosmoses. Fairylights hang across the ceiling, glowing with blue and green and white. They illuminate the entire greenhouse in pretty mood lighting. There's a hose near the back surrounded by a couple of watering cans. A brown door, labelled 'storage', sits at the end of the elongated space of nothing but flowers and occasional succulents.

"I don't have a lot of moonflowers right now, sorry about that. I do have a shipment from a friend coming in soon, though. Uh, but that could take about a week or two," Patton explains as they lead Remus towards the back.

Remus is only half-listening, however, gawking at the flowers and how many of them are poisonous.

They could kill me swiftly and horribly, omg.

This florist is starting to grow on him, quite a lot.

"Aside from that, I was hoping you could help me? There's a flower here... not that one. Um, somewhere in here that I'm a little stumped on."

Remus perks up at the sound of a challenge.

"What kinda flower are we talking? Poisonous? Toxic? So lethal ya can't even touch it?"

Patton just nods.

They end up in front of a singular potted flower, a couple pairs of gloves sit nearby the pot. Patton hands a pair to Remus before taking a pair themself, though Remus half considers tossing the gloves away. There've been plenty of times where he hadn't used gloves when he should've and still lived. A few times his friend had to call poison control and banned him from handling certain plants for a few months. But eh, he always survives.

But when he goes to just throw the gloves in a random direction, Patton gives him the most paternally safety-first look he's seen in a long while. He decides to just put on the gloves for now. He can f*ck with toxic plants later.

"Safety always, kiddo," they start, tugging on their gloves and gesturing to the flower. "This little guy keeps wilting and I don't know why."

Patton frowns. Remus takes a glance at it.

"That's because ya gotta keep 'em outta the Sun, duh," Remus playfully rolls his eyes at the florist.

"Oh."

Remus snorts at Patton, causing them to smile and chuckle at themself.

"Good to know, thanks."

"Eh. Now, moonflowers?"

"Oh, right. Like I said, not a lot- keep the gloves on, please."

Patton gives him another pointed look, and Remus scoffs but listens. They head a little further towards the back to the moonflowers. True to Patton's word, there isn't a lot. Just a few, looking lonely in their pot. 

Damn, they weren't kidding.

Eat the flowers.

Maybe later.

"Like I said, I'm getting a shipment of them in about two weeks. Sorry it's not sooner," Patton says. 

Remus hums. The moonflowers that are there, though few, are well taken care of. They reach for the sunlight flowing like a waterfall into the greenhouse. Their blossoms are full and vibrant. Patton is definitely a good florist, keeping these flowers healthy. 

"Welp, I got an order I need some for... but I'd need more. You said f*ckin', uh, two weeks? Right?" Remus asks. 

Patton gives him a frown at the cussing, but they nod anyway. 

"My order's in three weeks, so maybe... a trade?"

Patton considers it for a moment, admittedly not expecting to be offered a trade. 

"I don't think I have anything I'd need, though. I don't mind just giving you some of the flowers."

Remus raises an eyebrow but says nothing. They're pretty and kind and selfless? Not wanting or needing anything in return? He highly doubts that. No one is completely selfless. True Altruism is absolute bullsh*t.

"Oh, cum on. Nothing? Nothing at all? Not any more help with some toxic plants?" 

Patton hesitates. 

"Well... it feels weird to ask for something in return."

"Butt?"

Remus snickers to himself at his own joke. The florist doesn't even catch it, fidgeting with their gloves for a second. They sigh, stilling their hands. 

"I do need some help with a few other no-no flowers..."

"Then it's a deal! Give me some of your moonflowers in a couple weeks, and I'll help ya with your lethal poisons," Remus offers his hand to shake as he speaks delightfully. 

"Okay..."

Patton extends their hand and shake Remus'. They offer a smile, and Remus returns it with a cheeky smirk. 

"Neat! Now, how do ya think moonflowers taste?"

"...what?"

~~~

It's been about a week since their initial deal was made, and some sort of chaos-filled routine comes to be. 

Remus visits Patton and their greenhouse every evening, making obscene and mildly sexual jokes that the florist doesn't always catch. He tells them unsettling facts or just asks these off-hand questions that are completely unrelated to the duo's current discussion. It throws Patton off, which Remus finds all the funnier. As the week progresses, they slowly become mildly used to it.

They talk about many things during their visits. As Remus helps Patton with their poisons, the florist will start a random topic and they two go from there. It always goes in nonsensical directions. One minute they talk about some weird movie they've both seen, and suddenly it turns into epic tales of their youths or how they're coping with the Horrors™ (aka: life situations). They grow closer rather quickly, both liking this little agreement they've made.

Now it's a week since the deal, and Remus visits again in the evening. He welcomes himself in the closed shop, having a spare key Patton had lent him for the time being. He goes behind the counter, into the greenhouse. The fairylights are on as they always are. Only one problem.

Patton isn't there.

They're always there before he is, considering they own the shop. So them not being there, or even being first, is... well, a first.

Few things unsettle Remus. This is one of them. 

Where could they be? 

Dead in a fire? Buried under the ground? Imagine if they were crying out for help, no one there to hear them scream.

Remus winces at his thoughts, but he doesn't entertain them. The florist is probably just late, for whatever f*cking reason, and they'll be there soon. Yeah, they're fine. Definitely fine. 

A door opening and the bell chiming at someone's arrival startles the botanist out of his head. He tenses, freezing in his spot. Remus doesn't think he heard key, which means it can't be Patton. Who else could it be? An intruder?

A murderer, come to take you like they took Patton?

He grabs the closest object, a trowel, as he ignores his thoughts. Raising it to attack (if need be), Remus creeps out from the greenhouse and back into the storefront. He crouches behind the counter as he hears footsteps growing louder. His heart beats against his chest, his legs burning with anticipation of might-get-killed. As soon as the intruder is close enough to the counter, Remus pops up and aims the trowel at the mystery murderer. Said mystery murderer yelps in surprise, and Remus hears the pistol get cocked before he sees it. He immediately raises his arms up, not wanting to get shot. He processes who it actually is as they sigh in relief. 

"Oh god, I'm so sorry! Are you okay, Remus?"

It's Patton. With a gun. Patton has a f*cking pistol. 

Jesus, just when I thought I figured this motherf*cker out. 

Patton stares at him with very guilty and concerned eyes, uncocking their decorated pistol and taking the magazine out. They flip the safety on, pocketing the gun and the magazine in separate places under their trench coat. Remus lowers his arms and sets the trowel on the counter, exhaling from all the adrenaline. 

"...Remus?"

Remus looks at Patton, the pretty and lethal florist he hopes to never piss off, and cackles lightly at the situation. 

"I'm great! Most fun I've had in while," he grins. 

Patton's shoulders ease, and they exhale their own breath from the tense moment that just happened. 

"Good, good..." 

As Patton trails off, Remus takes a better look at them. Their trench coat is dotted with rain (their glasses the same), they have tired eyebags under beautiful eyes, and their face... their face holds tear streaks hidden amongst freckles. Actually, their eyes do look a little red and... oh. Oh, they've been crying. They're upset. 

"Pat-Pat, what's up?"

"What?"

"Who do I need to maim? Ya look like rainclouds."

"Oh."

Patton sighs deeply, sounding older for a moment. They hesitate, shifting their feet. Looking away from the botanist, they join him behind the counter. 

"I'll explain while we sort out some flowers," their voice sounds small and soft, and god.

It hurts to hear them like that. It hurts Remus' chest, and he wants to shove whoever hurt them into a woodchipper. 

He follows his friend into the greenhouse, the pretty fairylights making them look sadder instead of cheering them up. Usually, such colourful lighting brings a smile to their face. Tonight is different. 

Patton tugs on gloves absentmindedly, and so does Remus. He doesn't want to worry them right now. They both head towards the middle section of the long hallway of flora, stopping in front of a pot of many buds. Remus vaguely recognizes the type of flower, but he's mostly focused on the florist. 

"Um... so, I'm not sure what these ones do. I'm also not sure why they're taking so long to- to bloom," they speak softly still. 

Remus nods along, keeping an eye on his fellow plant enthusiast. They sigh again, putting their hands on the shelf by the pot and lean against it. They hang their head. 

"I don't know how to talk about this."

They're not referring to the poisonous flora in front of them. 

"Well, no one's forcing you if it's too much," Remus offers a chance to back out, to try distractions instead of conversation. 

"I know, kiddo. Thank you," Patton offers a sad smile as they turn their head to look up at him. "I just... I like to think there's a good side to everyone."

Remus stays there by their side, a steady presence. 

"Some people get mistreated and get angry at how they've been treated. It's not their fault that someone hurt them. And- and some people are wary because they're not sure who is genuine. Some people are good outright, some aren't. I don't want to judge what I don't know."

A fond gaze appears in Patton's eyes.

"Some people are unsettling or weird, but they remain just as good as everyone else."

Remus' heart feels warm. 

Patton turns to stare at the toxic flower, their gaze hardening.

"Some people prove me wrong. Not everyone is good, not really. My friend always says there's always outliers to every data collection, and he's right more times than I can count."

Remus raises a worried eyebrow, starting to catch on. 

"So, an outlier...?" he prompts.

Patton nods, glaring now at the damn plant in front of them. 

"My mom raised me and my siblings on her own, even though she was married. I'm the oldest, so I always helped her with the littles. She's the strongest person I know, and I love her more than anything." 

They grip the shelf.

"And he never stopped hurting her. It didn't- it didn't matter if we were there or not. He'd relish in the pain he caused her. Sometimes, it was like he wanted us to watch. A frickin' sick bastard."

Tears prick at Patton's eyes, angry. Remus stared in genuine shock at hearing the florist call someone a bastard. This b*tch sounds like a real piece of sh*t. He'd love to bury them alive on Patton's and their family's behalf. 

"I haven't seen him in years. No contact, per court order. Mom doesn't know, but... he called me. He has my frickin' number."

Angry tears fall and hands shake. Patton trembles with emotion as they speak, a sharp edge has taken to their voice. Their breathing picks up slightly. 

"He has no right to be in my life. He hurt my mom. I'm going to poison him and put him under the frickin'- frickin' ground. I just- he- god."

Patton stands up, no longer leaning on the shelf nor glaring at the poor plant. They hide their face in their hands as they cry quietly, taking in shaky breaths. Remus immediately gathers them in his arms, hugging them tight as cry out their distress. He's going to kill this motherf*cking jackass, but Patton needs him first. 

"If you're gonna poison someone, then you'd have to hide the body. It's too much effort. Do ya know how much dead bodies weigh? They're f*cking heavy," Remus says. 

Patton grips his hoodie with their gloved hands, trying to focus on breathing in. Remus smells like fresh soil and some odd concoction of flora. It's calming, and Patton takes another deep breath to take the smell greedily. 

They eventually sag in Remus' arms as they calm down, and the botanist holds his florist close. 

"D'aw, tired little florist. Do ya think if your flowers had legs, they'd pole-dance or something?"

Patton snorts at such an absurd image, causing Remus to smile. They both stare at each other for a moment before bursting out into laughter. It makes the fairylights seem cheerful again, basking them in pretty blue and green and white light. 

"I bet they'd have hairy human legs-"

Patton gasps, "That's worse."

They giggle at the thought of human legs attached to stems and flowers, imagining them in a cartoonish way. 

After a little bit, they both settle. Patton easing themself out of Remus' arms, and he lets them. They glance at the flowers they were supposed to sort out. 

"It's getting late, Pat-Pat." 

"Yeah, but the flowers..."

"-will be here in the morning. Cum on, why not tell me about this mom of yours. She sounds badass."

Remus offers his hand, and Patton smiles as they take it. 

They leave the greenhouse, completely forgetting that they're both still wearing the gloves. They forget about the trowel on the counter, the gun under Patton's trench coat. They leave Pawprint Florals, locking the door behind them. Patton makes a decision, since Remus hasn't seen their home before. 

"Come to mine? It's out of the rain," they offer as the rain persists. 

Remus lights up at the offer.

"F*ck yeah! Now maybe I can see where the f*ck you got a gun."

Patton chuckles at him as they get in their car, the florist in the driver's seat. 

"By the way, Pattie? If ya ever need someone to off your bastard," Patton glances at Remus as he speaks. "Well, it goes unsaid."

Patton knows what he means. They give a fond look.

"Thanks, Rem."

"Anytime, Patio." 

Patton starts the car as Remus buckles up for once, heading down the road as they laugh to Remus' random comments. 

~~~

It's two weeks. Remus and Patton have grown a whole lot closer, especially after the thing with Patton's murderous intent. Amazing how fast you can get attached to new friends, huh?

It's their last visit, this time in mid-afternoon. Patton had apparently closed shop early, eager to finally give their friend the moonflowers. He'd been waiting a while for them. 

Well, 'eager' isn't exactly right...

There's that underlying worry of him disappearing after the trade is made. They're no stranger to friends leaving as soon as they aren't useful anymore. Patton's excited, they are! But it's just... what if Remus leaves after this? What if, deep down, all he wanted were the flowers?

A bell chime announces his arrival, and Patton puts a smile on their face. Though they're worried, it's a genuine smile. It always makes them smile to see Remus. 

"Hey, Pat-Attack! Ya got my poison?" Remus is cheerful as he walks in, lighting up as he spots the florist. 

"Yep! I brought the bouquet out already." 

Patton, with gloved hands, grabs a big bouquet of moonflowers and hands it to Remus. There are more than plenty of flora for what Remus needs. He looks up from the beautiful poison, catching a sad glint in his friend's eyes. They smile, but it seems to be the smallest bit sad. 

Well, that won't do.

"Oi, what's with the sad? I can f*ck someone up," Remus asks.

"What- no! Remus, I'm fine."

Remus instantly raises a doubtful eyebrow at them. 

"Try again, Patio."

Patton stammers for a second before closing their mouth. They huff. 

"It's nothing. I just... will you come back?"

Remus looks at them, confused.

"To your shop? Probably. You work here."

"No, not- that's not what I meant."

"If I'll come back... after the trade?"

Patton nods sheepishly. Remus' face softens. 

"Ya couldn't get rid of me if ya tried! And many have tried. They fail every time, heh."

That eases the florist and the sad glint goes away. 

"Now, wanna see my shop? Someone's gonna have to help me with these babies," Remus gestures to the moonflowers with his eyes.

Patton smiles wider, bouncing on their feet. 

"Yes! Omg, what kind of plants do you have?"

"Anything you could possibly imagine! C'mon."

The friends head out from the flower shop, crossing the street. The air is crisp, windless and pleasantly chilly. They both wear some form of warm layer to avoid getting cold. 

As they enter Dahmer's Plant Hoard and into Remus' greenhouse, they chatter excitedly between each other. The gifts of flowers and becoming friends bring them to smile fondly as they do so. 

[brooklynislandgirl]

@silverjetsystm {{part two of this because tumblr is complete clown shoes}}

Once she's satisfied that he has no more head-trauma then she moves on. Still gentle. Each caress intended to give as little pain as possible considering. Beth feels the crispness of the dense curls that cover his chest. A lick of shame runs up the back of her neck when her hand sinks in. Gives her the belief that it would be just as soft if she pressed her face against him to listen to the steady beating of his heart. The scar she cannot ignore prevents her from indulging in that little luxury. Lends a skitter to the weight of her fingertips in hesitation. The scar itself is old. Jagged and shaped unmistakably to her eyes like the glyph for a Theurge moon. While Beth is a nurse, she too is a gardener in multiple senses of the word, and he knows it. "Moonflower might be too on da nose," she murmurs. "Mebbe night blooming jasmine. Easy to coax into a vine, but I'd be careful. Not true jasmine, it's actually part of da nightshade family. I could put a list togeddah for you based on ease of cultivation, scent, beauty…any criteria ya might like." While he's numb she tugs a rib back into place, its chipped off point dangerously close to puncturing a rib. Psychic surgery if he wanted a clinical term though she thinks the System is content to know her skills are both hard won through study as they are a blessing from the universe. Nothing that will leave any further marks on his skin, though Beth does stray from practicalities now and again. Tracery of fainter marks, the outline of his ribs for her own satisfaction and nothing to do with easing pain and breath. The faint dapple of freckles that in some cases would attract her seafaring kin in their own species. She catches her own actions and hopes that he doesn't notice the difference in her hands. Their weight, their purpose, their uncertainty. She draws them away, knowing the spell-work is nearly complete. It will be as if tonight never happened. One less burden on the body already so terribly abused. This is the evil of fathers and the shackles they place on their children, a garden of misery and pain. Ostracization from the simplest of comforts. She thinks maybe she likes haole gods even less now, these grand patriarchs that are thieves of the worst kind. "Mmmm?" Beth is a strong swimmer by nature. All lithe muscle and intimately familiar with sea, lake, stream. Despite that she barely keeps her head above the dark and deep waters of his voice and thus misses the levity in the words that tumble down his lips. Green woods rise to meet night sky. "If you want…I could write you some." Winsome with a touch of diffidence.

[dogday-shines-bright]

Morning glory

Moonflower

Tea rose

morning glory; any special talent that you have?

"Special talent? Oh, I can bite my own tail!! And I can look my elbow! Look! Bleeeeehh-"

"Oh, and I can play the guitar!"

moonflower; what’s your favorite color?

"It's yellow, like the sun! And blue, like the sky! Or maybe green... Oh well, I like all colors!!"

tea rose; what’s something you always wanted to do but were too scared?

"I don't think I'm scared of a lot of things... Oh, wait. I always wanted to visit the deeper parts of the factory, but it's too dark... Maybe if I had some company I could go?"

[dingusships]

hmmm trying 2 think of an ask for u since you're bored... what do you think is happening in the bunker Right Now

Hrrmmmm

Honestly the this is a VERY good question it made me think a lot

and the answer is

nothing! abandoned :)

I feel like maybe the “endless dark” or w/e it was was directly related to the cult stuff murdoc n them were getting mixed up in. Somehow for some reason Ace knew Some Big Shit was gonna go down & kept tabs on them (anyone remember that anonymous spoof twitter account w the green pfp? 👀) but wanted to get the hell out of dodge for whatever moonflower was planning. BUT luckily the big demon thing was defeated, the big event was thwarted forever & the band departed to new york shortly afterwards. Ace, no longer needing to hide, met up w them to supply the fake passports that would get them to India (“friend of murdoc’s”? 👀 who else would it beee).

Now he’s out of the bunker, reunited with his gang, and (hopefully) (for the most part) staying out of trouble :’)

[didilovesdick]

15 Questions for 15 Friends

Tagged by @elwon 💞

Are you named after anyone?

Unfortunately not, the story behind my name is very boring. My parents opened a book and said “okay that seems cool”. The end.

When was the last time you cried?

Wednesday.

Do you have kids?

Nahhh there’s still time.

What sports do you play/have played?

Swimming and I went to the gym for a bit, didn’t like it.

Do you use sarcasm?

Yes, especially with good friends.

What's the first thing you notice about people?

Uhmm the face or if they’re taller than me.

What's your eye color?

Green.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Thriller

Any talents?

Ehm idk, bowling maybe?

Where were you born?

In a big hospital.

Do you have any pets?

I want a caaaaaat :( but I can’t have one right now.

How tall are you?

Not so much

Favorite subject in school?

Latin literature probably

Dream job?

Pilot, literally just a dream

Everybody pls do this if you see this and find this fun

as well! ✨

@celeste-moonflower

[lowkeyclueless5137]

Rarepair Halloween Story Pt.6

Pair: Malleus x Idia x Azul

Prompt: Under the moonlight

Warning: This part contains gore, body horror and blood

Disclaimer: this part contains chapter 7 Spoilers

He was running... Just like in his nightmares.

Except that this time... It was real. As real as it could be. It hurt, it was wobbly and his weight felt much more different. It was difficult to move around, to breathe. Everything was painfull and he could only cry.

But even that he couldn't do, because he was scared he will be seen. No one could see him like this. No one should ever see the horrible being he was. He was big, yes, but the forest had tall trees, enough for him to hide and wait for everything to calm down.

And he only ran in there, aimless, only the thumping of his feet on the ground and the shuffling of the leaves and grass filling his ears.

Splash!

Slipping a bit, he caught himself in time as he looked down. He stepped in water, in a river. Taking some breaths, he looked down, at the water. The moon was reflecting everything with it's delicate light and he could see a bit blurred his own image.

Except as the water gained again a steady flow and the image became less blury, Idia saw his own face, scared and confused. 6 eyes were looking back at him, all of them being his and his only. His hair returned to the blue flame, although dim, weakly swishing around. His lips were black, stained and dripping with blot. Gently, he touched his own cheek with his hand, which was covered in blot, the long Claws threatening to tare up his pale skin.

What happened to him? Was this the moonflower's doing? So many questions were swirling in his mind. His sides ached and he could only look at his reflection. At what he had become, all because of an accident. So many unanswered questions and currently, his mind was shuffling in all parts to even figure out what question should he put first.

"Malleus! This is ridiculous!" a voice. Idia felt how his body was overcomed by pain, shifting yet again into something else, covering his mouth with his hands as he felt the world around him getting smaller. His vision was hazy again, he felt dizzy and his limbs felt as if they were on that stretching torture device. Everything felt wrong again and Idia bearly scrambled to leave his initial place, hiding behind some more wider trees, looking at the said newcomers.

Malleus was holding a green flame in his hand as Azul holded his other arm, both wondering through the forest. "I am certain that beast has our darling. I can feel it..." "Malleus... What if it kills us?!" "What if it kills Idia? Maybe he's alive! I have hope!" Malleus mused. It was clearly on the verge of snapping, given the situation, but Azul was worried as well, hugging the fae's arm tightly.

Azul feared that he won't only lose Idia. Malleus feared that Idia would be gone if he wouldn't act up.

And Idia looked and listened. He was touched. For a moment, he was willing to just go to them. His body again was twisting and his pain was trying to subdue itself, but Idia again was reminded of his current form. In his current gaze, Malleus and Azul both looked not even bigger than 2 hamsters, going around the forest aimlessly.

And also, a hunger was creeping in. An urge to eat, as if he didn't eat anything in months. His mouth felt watery and Idia only backed up, in fear of fulfilling those animalistic needs.

Crack!

"what was that?!" Azul asked as Malleus immediately turned to face the sound. "perhaps a much smaller being... We should investigate..." The Fae declared. "Malleus... I'm scared..." Azul mumbled. "We will find Idia... I will purge that blasted creature and get our darling back. I promise..." Malleus reassured.

Idia only scurried away. Back! Back! Back! He had to hide and go back! Don't let them see him. Don't let anyone see him like this. All because of his negligence. All because he wasn't careful and wanted to try out things.

Really, Idia seems to never learn his lesson.

At least this time, he is the one paying.

As he should.

Splash! CRASH!

Again stepping into another part of the river, Idia wasn't fast enough to catch his fall, meeting harshly the ground as he groaned. Everything was on fire, way too hot! It hurt and it was blurry and wet. His tears were just staining his monstrous face as he whimpered there, no more strength to lift his body again.

Was this... How he's going to meet his end? Well... At least it wasn't a boring death. Something wierd to think in your last moments, but Idia wasn't picky now. He had no right to be.

He made out 2 figures approaching him, so he tried to curl up more, despite how the pain increased with each limb moved. The 2 figures stopped and whispered in between them, before one came closer. Of course Idia tried to scurry back, roll or do something to put more distance.

But it was his inevitable end.

He closed his eyes shut, hoping for everything to be swift and painless. He doubted it would be like that, seeing that already his whole body was ablaze with pain. But he waited, until everything would just fade. The silence was overwhelming.

"Fae of Maleficiene"

Idia blinked, not thinking that he heard that right. But he immediately found himself somewhere else.

It was still night, but the moon was shining gently, bathing him in it's veil like light. He was in a field, all alone, silence taking over everything.

It was calm... Oh so calm that Idia simply laid down, closing his eyes and smiling as he took in the calm. He was normal again and the grass was like the softest mattress he ever laid on. Was this how heaven felt like?

"Idia..."

Oh...

Jolting back up, Idia was met with both Azul and Malleus. The shorter of the 2 immediately slammed himself into the fire head, hugging him tightly. "Idia... You're alright..." He mused. Malleus smiled as he joined in the hug.

And Idia started to cry. It wasn't cold, it was warm and cozy. It was safe and Idia couldn't believe it. It had to be a dream. He had to be dead and this was just an illusion. "No... This isn't true..." He pushed aside. "Idia... Please... In the real world... You are-" "A monster! That's what I am..." Idia snapped, flames gaining an orange tint.

"Darling... I... Cannot hold this too much..." Malleus reasoned. "Please... Calm down..." "Calm down?! CALM DOWN?! I killed someone! I attacked people! I-... I almost hurt you 2! Ortho... Oh gods, Ortho! What if I hurt him too?!" Idia stammered out.

In response, the world was staring to shake, the ground cracking up slowly. "This is horrible..." Idia again teared up, blot crawling at his leg. Azul tried to reach out to him, but Malleus grabbed him by the shoulder, panting. "I can't hold it anymore." He mused.

And for everyone, the ground cracked and all 3 of them were engulfed by darkness. For Azul, it felt like a splash of ice cold water. For Malleus it was like falling on concrete. But for Idia, it was just numb. He didn't know where he fell, on what he fell or if he even hit something.

All he knew was that it was black.

~~

Next Part

Previous Part

[echo-goes-mmm]

Moonflower #13

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: none

Iris scanned the letter in her hands. She’d gotten several over the past week; all concerned with the fae currently sitting at her feet. 

Clearly it was a mistake to announce to the court that the fae might consider war over Kit’s kidnapping. The letters were full of urgency and fear, and only time would soothe the public.

Ugh. She should have been more careful.

But then again… she never asked Kit if it was possible.

She glanced down at him. He was leaning against her chair, eyes closed, and half dozing.

“Kit,” she said, keeping her voice low to not disturb the quiet room, “Is… is anyone coming for you?”

“Hm?” Kit’s eyes fluttered open.

“I mean, do you think anyone is looking for you? Would your, uh, government be upset that you’re here?”

“Oh.”

Kit thought for a moment, his face blank.

“No. I’m not important enough to be reported missing to the prince. I don’t know if he'd be upset.” Iris put down the letter.

“You don’t have any concerned family?”

Kit shrugged. “I didn’t live in a grove with other nymphs.”

Iris wasn’t sure exactly what a fae grove was, but she could guess.

“What about your parents?”

Kit looked vaguely uncomfortable. He twirled and stroked a section of his hair, and Iris could see glints of dark green in it.

“I’m a proximity child,” he said, as if admitting something.

“What does that mean?” 

Kit looked away, focusing on a spot on the wall. “When a grove is big enough, faerie children can form from the surrounding magic. They’re usually taken care of by the grove.”

“Usually?”

Kit looked up at her, a faraway look in his eyes. “I’m not very sociable for a nymph. Too… solitary for a grove.”

Kit sounded like he was repeating someone else: ‘Not very sociable for a nymph’. 

Hmph. He seemed plenty sociable in the few glimpses of personality she was able to see. 

The very few glimpses. Kit was living right across the hall, and she knew so little about him. 

Guilt tugged at her stomach.

“I never really asked, but what kind of nymph are you? Tulip? Oak tree? Morning glory?” she guessed. Wasn’t a moonflower a type of morning glory?

Kit hesitated. “I think humans call them dog-roses. It’s a climbing bush.”

“Sounds pretty.” Kit looked away. 

“Yes,” he said.

He folded his hands into his lap, as if he had nothing else to say.

Shy, her mind supplied. 

“Do you miss-” she faltered. That would be a dumb question. Of course he would miss home.

“Tell me about where you lived,” she suggested. “Was it nice, even without a grove?”

Kit nodded. His hands came up to plait a section of his hair, a tiny little braid he did and undid and did again.

“There was a stream, with fish. Some meadow with long grasses and ground nesting birds. Rabbits and mice. Berry bushes. I liked to nap in the shade of the woods when it got too hot. It wasn’t a very big territory, but it was enough to hunt in. I had some neighbors, too.”

It was a pretty bland description, and maybe Kit just didn’t want to talk about it.

“Did you have a, I don’t know, a burrow or something?”

A corner of Kit’s mouth twitched upwards, amused.

“No. There was a witch briar in the meadow that I grew into a hut. I dug out the underneath and layered it with pelts. The thorns kept out the unwanted, and the branches were thick to keep me warm in the winter.”

“Witch briar?”

“Dog-rose. Same thing.”

“Oh.”

Kit hummed. “There was a nest of birds,” he added quietly. “Every spring, they came to live in the branches of my bush.”

There was sadness in his voice, and Iris felt pretty bad for bringing up what had to be a painful thought; that he’d miss the birds this year. And the next. And the next after that.

“I could have Jeff plant some dog-rose in the gardens,” she offered. 

Kit ducked his head. “No, thank you,” he said woodenly. “I’d rather he didn’t.”

“Well… maybe you’d like to plant them, then? I’m sure he won’t mind.”

He shook his head. “Thank you, but I really wouldn’t want them… there.”

“Why not? I thought you liked the gardens.”

Kit’s left ear twitched. “I don’t.”

Iris frowned, confused. “I’d like to know why, Kit,” she said gently. 

“It’s so… manicured. Sterile. Everything is cut and shaped, and there’s so much bare space. It’s unnatural.” Kit’s lips curled into a snarl, but he soon dropped the expression. “Sorry,” he added.

Another spark of personality, and Kit was apologizing for it.

“I guess I never thought of it that way.”

Kit didn’t say anything.

“What if we set aside some part of the gardens for you? You could do whatever you want with it.”

He turned and looked at her, surprise and something unreadable in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he said. “I… I appreciate it, but… why?”

Iris shrugged. “Why not? It might help you feel less homesick.”

“It’s almost fall,” pointed out Kit. “And I don’t think Jeff would be very happy.”

“So? There are plants in fall. And I’m his employer,” said Iris. “He’ll deal with it.”

Kit’s eyes began to look a bit shiny, and he looked away again.

“What do you want in return?”

Iris frowned. “Nothing. It’s a gift. For free.”

“...oh.” 

His voice was small, and choked up, and Iris turned back to the letters and pretended not to hear him softly crying.

taglist: @paintedpigeon1 @cupcakes-and-pain @loserwithsyle @cepheusgalaxy @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @virtualbreadtale

[fumikomiyasaki]

💋 any ship- harbor chaos- >:D

A little flirt

Around this day Mythra invited Marleigh over to her dorm cause they tested some new robotic machines in the lab today, yet even if one after another worked very well... eventually Mythra had to fix some of the modells on her own cause they had some troubles... Marleigh assisted her but seeing her pretty girlfriend make sure her pants still fit on while she kneeled down to fix it Mythra had a light chuckle... as Marleigh leaned up again Mythra already drew her chin to face her and gazed at her.

"Darling, you can be glad we are alone cause with this view thanks to those pants you would be drawing many eyes to you.~"

"I would say its a sucess if it got you staring. I could be a model for you later." She winked back at Mythra as she put her wrench back onto her belt.

As Marleigh turned around however her Girlfriend slightly pinned her to the nearby table leaving a small neck kiss on her. In the end a small lip stick stain being left on there.

"You know this means revenge, Sweetheart?"

"I can take anything you give me, my dear Darling."

In the end the both of them left the Lab to Mythras room in an effort to clean up all the smeared Lipstick from another but at least also with the assurance the robots would work... after all the two girls were professionals in that regard.

A faint light shimmered all around Shirrira as she strolled through her dormitory as usual... feeling a sudden shift in presence as some crystalized shards glided past her in the air... eventually forming a light breeze before she noticed a light behind her and who came to visit.

"I hope you don't mind the surprise visit, my beautifull Moonflower."

He took her hand gently and placed a kiss on it as she gave him a warm comforting nod.

"Odel, did you sneak past the others? Even I barely sensed your presence."

"Its a new spell, but I had to see you right away after I found this."

He placed a small blue crystal necklace into her hand but it seemed like one part was missing.

"I assumed... I wanted to deepen our connection... close the distance between us more so... I thought bringing our two halfs together."

He placed the Necklace around her neck gently as he revealed he was wearing a matching one, pulling her smoothly into an embrace and locking the necklaces together, his eyes having a more sly look to him as he held her.

"I see... two halfs make one... you are quite the charmer."

"I just... wanna cherish my loved ones... show you how much you mean to me any time I can. My beloved.~"

He softly cradled her neck as he leaned down for a kiss... some of his magic still floated around them like pretty lights those small crystals seemed to nearly reflect his feelings.

A hint of redness was in her face after he withdrew from the kiss.

"Can you stay a little longer?..."

"For as long as you like, even if it means the whole night."

In previous annoyance Keisuke just wanted a calm space to get a rest eventually he found a nice tree shadow where he could lean back for now and rest... get a little nap after her wrote something to calm him down a little... and drifted into the world of sleep... slowly he felt something.. like a cloud leaned under his head soft as if embracing his sleep even more... he drifted some more untill eventually he felt like slowly opening his eyes.. and what he was met by was a sweet smile, Green eyes in the color of green apples accompanied by the smell... before suddenly worrying cause this wasn't a dream, Carol actually kneeled over him. As he leaned up slowly he noticed where he was laying, right on her thighs, blushing a little.

"You really need to watch out where you fall asleep, you get neck pains lying on the ground itself for too long. I thought maybe a I could assist you."

She pushed her glasses up and winked at him as he slowly calmed down.

"You could have waked me up and told me."

"I am sorry... you really were just too cute mumbling in your sleep.~"

"C-cute..." His heartbeat increased a little but his reaction enabled her a little more to continue.

"I don't mind you leaning against me if you need rest, I hope you can be comfortable around me and get some rest. If its my thighs or maybe... my chest... If you want to continue I can still read something and you can lay back down."

"N-no I am fine..."

They both got off the ground as Carol dusted some dirt off her legs and bend down a little... as she held her book under her arm she leaned forward to him and pulled him with her other hand down for a sweet kiss... lingering a little on his lips before showing him a happy smile.

"There is always Private lessons if you want me to yourself too and need some rest.... or maybe some more attention from me~ I would love to give you some more but sadly I am busy right now."

"Carol..."

"I just like teasing with the Private lessons don't worry, for you I always have the time but well, lets both work hard and then get a reward for it later, alright Handsome? <3 "

"Hmm-mhh..."

While she walked away with a pep in her step of happiness he was still a little red and dumbfounded... at least Souta wasn't here to tease him about it... but he had to calm down till he was back to haunt him.

[wishingforatypewriter]

Other Powers

For Baatar Jr. Week (Day 6: Power) @baatarjrweek

When Tai was born, Toph had planted her feet in his general direction and declared him an earthbender, though his powers didn’t manifest until four years later. When Avani learned to crawl, she bore labyrinthine tunnels through the gardens and it took Kuvira’s seismic sense to find her in them, always caked in dirt and with moonflowers enmeshed in her hair. And when Priya’s peals of laughter split the air, his wife’s steel bracelets rattled like wind chimes, the metal singing in response to their infant daughter’s jubilation. 

When Baatar’s mother called them thrice blessed with prodigies, Kuvira’s face glowed with pride—while Baatar suppressed an eye roll—and when she fell pregnant again, the matriarch made no secret of her wish for a fourth earthbending grandchild. 

But Jae’s infancy came and went without any sign of a capacity for bending revealing itself. “Wait and see,” Kuvira had said, and “Give it time,” his mother advised, but years passed, and despite the family’s unceasing interventions, Jae was never able to make so much as a pebble move. 

“He’s at it again,” Baatar said as he glanced out a window, watching his six-year-old son run through a sequence of earthbending stances his older sisters had drilled into him. 

Kuvira drifted to his side and gazed out at the training field. “His form is flawless,” she said, shaking her head slightly. Baatar tried not to chafe at the hint of regret in her voice. “Maybe we can find him a master in the nonbending martial arts.”

“I don’t know if that helps.” Baatar sighed. “He doesn’t want to fight; he wants to earthbend. Anything short of that just winds up disappointing. Trust me, I would know.” 

“Maybe you’re right,” Kuvira said. “I’ll try talking to him again.” 

Baatar rested a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “Let me go this time.”

She nodded and he slipped out the back door to make his way to the training field. He watched his son go through the stances again, his face set in hard determination—much like Kuvira’s when she was focused on a task— before intervening. 

“Jae, would you like to come up to the workshop with me?” he asked. “I’ve been working on some new designs, and I could use your help.” 

“Maybe later, dad,” he said. “I need to keep working on these moves so I’m ready when my earthbending comes in.”

Baatar took a deep breath, preparing himself to give a variation of the talk his father once had with him. To be a Beifong born without the power of earthbending felt in many ways like being a bird without a song. That had been Baatar’s reality for years, decades, before he came to terms with his own skills and limitations. But it would not be his son’s if he had any say in the matter. 

“It’s true, you could develop earthbending in a few months or a few years.” He took a seat on a pile of earth discs. “But you could also be a nonbender, like me.”

“But probably not, though, right? Tai and Avani and Priya can all earthbend, so why would I be the only one who can’t?” 

Baatar forced himself not to look away from the pleading look in his son’s green eyes. “No one can really say why some people have bending abilities and others don’t. There are geneticists who’ve dedicated their entire careers to the question.” 

“Dad, what’s a geneticist?” 

“A scientist who studies heredity and the variation of organisms and…and that isn’t really important now,” he said. “The point is, bender or nonbender, your mother and I love you and will always be proud of you.” 

“Does being a nonbender mean I’ll have to become an engineer?”

“Of course not,” Baatar said, “but I’m here if you ever want to learn.” 

Jae seemed to think this over for a moment. “Can we design a super fast car?” 

Baatar smiled. “The fastest.” 

“Really? Then let’s go!”

As he jogged to match his son’s pace back to the house, up to his workshop, he hoped the powers he could offer—of innovation and design—would be enough to fill an earth-shaped void.