#ancient tea tree

[coworkerjonathan]

If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the craziest thing you’ve witnessed/experienced at your workplace?

It's so hard to choose. It's mostly minor things, everything can be explained away anyway. And usually it's noticing something that seems out of place, rather than seeing something actually "happen" - like how we keep finding feathers indoors even though there is no windows nearby.

But you asked about crazy, not supernatural. The craziest thing might have been the bird war a couple years back just based on how long it went on.

Currently we have a couple hundred, maybe almost a thousand crows in the trees around the institution. It didn't use to be this way. There used to be several hundred pigeons and some seagulls around. I enjoy birds, so watching so many of them was a pleasure, if intimidating. However, it seemed like the factions didn't get along.

I remember sensing that something was different even before I found the first dead birds. Mostly pigeons, some crows. Over the next weeks I would find more and more cadavers, ripped apart corpses missing their heads. I cleaned up some of them, but it was honestly too many. I got lucky, I think, since I never saw any of the attacks themselves.

There's no longer any pigeons around the institution. During my shift I have to walk past the giant trees though, covered in black feathers with little eyes reflecting my flashlight in the darkness. These days I prefer to turn it off.

[wallpapersmonster]

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[meeshnut]

Another 2024 Spring Green!

This one is knocking my socks off? It’s almost woody, and subtly sweet.

I’ve done the first 4 steeps at 85°C ~10 seconds, but I might bump it to ninety for the next one and see where we’re at.

Last picture under the cut for exclusive spring preorder tea pet. Monkey is still unnamed if you have any ideas.

[nekoashiii]

Pairings: Dragon!sylus x reader

Notes: sorry for dying I’m back now, I got sick, and I hate this respectfully I will write a better piece once I’m feeling better.

Warning: mentions of dead deers, Beast!Sylus.

The first time you saw Sylus, you thought you were going to die.

Not because he attacked you. No—he stood still at the edge of the clearing, wings half-folded, steam rising from his nostrils. His skin shimmered like obsidian, black horns curving back over a crown of tangled white hair. He was… massive. Nearly seven or more feet of muscle, talons, and silent, menacing power.

He approached one day while you were outside, picking some carrots from your little farm outside of your cottage house.

And he dropped a dead deer at your feet.

Just—thump. Right there. Legs curled awkwardly, neck broken, but it was still warm.

You stood frozen, eyes flicking from the deer to the dragon-man and back again. He said nothing. Just stared, red eyes unblinking, tail twitching like he was waiting for something.

“…Do you… want me to cook it?” you asked weakly.

He blinked. Once. Then turned and vanished into the trees.

The second time, it was gold.

He didn’t make a sound at dawn. You just stepped out of your cottage one morning and there it was: a heap of raw gold nuggets and coins, like someone robbed an entire mountain.

You stood on the porch with your tea, staring at the glittering pile and blinking hard.

“…Is this a trap? Or maybe—maybe the forest spirits finally accepted my offerings of mushroom stew.”

You knelt down to inspect the coins. They were ancient. Some of them had runes you didn’t recognize. One had a dragon engraved on it. You poked it.

A low growl rumbled behind you.

You jumped, turning to find him again—towering, hulking, silent. Red eyes fixed on you.

“You again?” you whispered. “Okay, this is… this is getting a little weird.”

He stepped closer. You backed up.

“Did you lose this?” you asked, pointing at the gold. You knew how much dragons like treasures or shiny things, and getting barbecued by a dragon was not on your to do list this morning. “I can… help you carry it back?”

He stared. Then, slowly, he said, “Take it.”

You hesitated. “I mean, I guess I could keep a few—”

His wings twitched. “Take it.”

“…Okay.”

You picked up one coin.

He exhaled hard through his nose, clearly unimpressed. With a frustrated snort, he turned and walked off again, stomping like the very earth offended him.

The third time it happened, it was rocks—shiny ones. Polished quartz, opal, raw moonstone, the kind of stones that sparkled like water under moonlight. You found them lined across your windowsill one morning, arranged carefully as if someone had studied where the light hit best.

You sighed, fingers brushing over the smooth surfaces

“This again…”

The forest was silent behind you—but not for long.

A rustle. Then heavy, deliberate footsteps. Heat crawled up your spine before you even turned.

And there he was.

Sylus.

Towering, wings partially unfurled, horns gleaming in the dappled light. White hair tangled from wind and weather. Red eyes, burning like coals, locked on you.

He stood still. Staring.

You stared back, heart stuttering in your chest. “You again…”

He didn’t speak, not at first. He just nodded to the rocks with a barely perceptible tilt of his head.

“You brought these?” you asked, voice unsure.

He exhaled heavily, a deep sound from the pit of his chest. Then, in that low, growling voice, he said,

“Take them.”

You hesitated, brows furrowing. “They’re… beautiful, but why do you keep bringing me things? The deer, the gold, now these—”

“You not… understand?” he asked slowly.

You scratched the back of your head, awkward. “Understand what?”

He stared at you, expression unreadable, and then sighed—deeply. He looked down, broad shoulders slumping just a bit. Like a man who had tried very hard to follow the sacred rites of his kind and was now at the end of his rope.

Was he really this doomed?

“You are human,” he muttered. “But… pretty.”

Your cheeks flushed. “Um… thanks?”

He looked up again, eyes intense. “Good scent. Good eyes. I like your laugh.”

That only made it worse. Your heart kicked up in your chest.

“I brought prey. I brought gold. I brought treasure. I make nest warm. You live in it. You eat. You make funny noises when happy.” He stepped closer, voice rough, sincere. “I protect you. I fly over your roof at night. I scent-mark the trees so no male gets close.”

“You… what?”

He blinked once. “You are my mate.”

You froze.

“M-Mate?”

“Yes.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. A hundred things crashed into each other in your brain. The gifts. The constant watching. The deer. The way he always appeared when you left your cabin too far behind.

“Wait,” you said softly. “The deer was… a courtship gift?”

He nodded.

“And the gold?”

“A dowry.”

“…The rocks?”

“For your nest.”

“…Oh my god,” you whispered. “I’ve been accidentally accepting your… your dragon proposal this whole time.”

His tail flicked. “Yes.”

You groaned, covering your face. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“I am dragon,” he said, almost stubborn. “I bring gifts. You are meant to understand.”

You peeked at him between your fingers. “Well, we’re very different, because I just thought I was being haunted by a very generous forest spirit.”

His nostrils flared. “I am not a spirit. I am Sylus. And I chose you.”

Your chest tightened at how… earnest he sounded. There was no guile, no smooth charm. Just raw, beast-like devotion. He’d been courting you the only way he knew how. And you’d been accepting everything without a clue.

“You said I’m your mate,” you said carefully. “But what if I don’t feel… ready for that?”

His eyes flickered. “Then I wait.”

You blinked.

“I do not take,” he said. “I give. Always. Until you give back.”

You stared up at him. “Even if it takes years for me?”

“I live long. I can wait.”

Your heart felt too big for your chest.

Then you reached out—slow, cautious, and brushed your fingers over the back of his hand.

His breath caught.

“…I’m not saying yes,” you whispered. “But I’m not saying no.”

His wings twitched slightly, his tail curling around your porch like a barrier. You half expected him to roar or make some triumphant noise, but instead He lowered his head to your hand, and pressed his warm, scaly forehead to your palm.

A growl, low and soft, rumbled from his throat.

It sounded like a purr.

Weeks later…

You sat on your porch, legs tucked under you, a blanket over your lap. The shiny stones had been arranged into a little circle beside you. A bowl of soup sat nearby.

A shadow passed overhead, followed by a familiar gust of heat and wind.

Sylus landed quietly for someone his size. He approached slowly, claws tapping the wood.

“You are back” you smiled.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out something small—clumsy, handmade. A necklace you’d woven with leather cord, threaded with one of the moonstones he’d brought.

You held it out, and he stared, surprised.

“You said dragons give. But I want to give something too.”

He took it, slowly, like he thought it might disappear. His claw curled around it carefully.

Then, with deep reverence, he tied it around one of his horns.

“I will never remove it,” he said.

You laughed softly and leaned back against his warm side as he sat beside you.

You still weren’t sure where this path would lead.

But he was warm. Loyal. Fierce.

And most of all, he waited for you.

You looked up at the stars and smiled.

“…Maybe being with you wouldn’t be so bad.”

[beloveds-embrace]

(In which you are a witch living in the woods, and yet the crown’s knights, rather than bringing you to be executed, have taken to protecting you in exchange for your services. Inspired by @nightunite, so all credits to them! (I forgor to add this at first im so sorry </3))

The forest had always been a place of mystery, its ancient trees and thick undergrowth concealing stories older than anyone alive. Deep within its heart, where sunlight filtered in golden beams through the canopy, stood your cottage. Ivy curled up its stone walls, and a garden thrived in the clearing. Wind chimes, crafted from bones and stones, tinkled softly in the breeze, their melodies laced with protective enchantments.

You were a witch, but not the kind whispered about with fear and suspicion. The knights of the realm knew you well- not as a threat but as a keeper of secrets, a healer, and a source of quiet, unassuming power- a companion to turn to when things got rough. You gave them charms and potions, warded them against misfortune, and offered refuge when the weight of their duties grew too heavy. In return, they brought you herbs, rare ingredients, and protection from the crown.

And now, that very same forest seemed to hold its breath as Captain Price approached your cottage, his figure blending seamlessly with the shadows of the trees. You felt the subtle hum of your wards shifting, recognizing the familiar presence and allowing him to pass. By the time his knuckles rapped softly on the door, you were already reaching for the latch with an eager smile.

“Evening, Captain,” you greeted, as warm as the crackling hearth, and stepped aside to let him in. “Come in before the chill settles.”

He nodded in thanks, ducking under the low frame of your door. “Evening, love,” he murmured, setting a small bundle wrapped in cloth on your table. “Brought you some chamomile and wild mint. Picked it near the south clearing on patrol and thought you’d probably have better uses for them than me.”

“Always so thoughtful,” you unwrapped the herbs and inhales their fresh, earthy scent, while John simply watching, a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “These are perfect! Thank you, John, truly.”

Your fingers moved with practiced ease as you began sorting the herbs, placing them into jars and tying some into small bundles to dry. The rhythm of your movements seemed to ease the tension in Price’s shoulders as he sank heavily into one of the wooden chairs by the hearth, his eyes on you and only you.

“Tea?” you offered, even though you were already reaching for your collection of loose leaves. You bustled about, waving a hand with a glittery, starry shimer left in the wake of your movements; teapot and teacups toddled around in formation, going to their stations.

“Aye, tea sounds nice. Thank you, love.” He said, removing his helmet and setting it on the table.

You chose a blend of lavender, chamomile, and a hint of rosehip, brewing the mixture in the pot that had seen countless evenings like this. As you poured the steaming liquid into a cup, you murmured a soft incantation under your breath- just a touch of magic to soothe his weary spirit and exhausted body. A soft ting! came as the spell took hold, and for a split second, wispy hands curled around the cup before disappearing.

“Here,” you hummed, handing him the cup. “For peace of mind.”

Price sipped the tea, his gaze fixed on the fire crackling in your hearth that waved at him. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that had developed over years of quiet visits and late nights spent together.

“Long day, John?” you asked gently, breaking the stillness. Your brows were furrowed, leaving creases in the skin of your forehead.

He nodded, hand curling around the cup, and sighed. “Long patrols, longer nights. The crown’s getting twitchy, and it’s falling on us to keep the peace.”

Your face softened. “And yet you still find time to bring me herbs. You’re too good to me, John.”

He glanced at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve done more for us than you realize. The men sleep easier knowing you’re out here, keeping watch in your own way.”

You looked away, focusing on the charm you’d been crafting earlier in the day. Made of braided black thread and adorned with tiny iron beads, it hummed faintly with the protective magic you’d woven into it.

“I made this for you,” you said, holding it out. “It’s for endurance- to keep you strong during the long days ahead.”

Price extended his arm, letting you tie the charm around his wrist. “Thank you, love.” He said, his voice low and sincere. His eyes lingered on yours, a quiet warmth in their depths.

When he stood to leave, you followed him to the door, pausing as he adjusted his armor. As easy as breathing, he tilted his head down as you stepped closer, pressing a kiss to his temple. The bristles of his beard brushed your cheek, and he stilled, letting the moment stretch.

“Take care, John.” You whispered, your hand lingering on his arm.

He nodded, his expression unreadable as he placed his hat back on his head. “I’ll make sure no one stumbles too close,” he said, tone firm- a promise he’s repeated many times, and never once broken. “This place stays yours, and no one will ever know.”

As he disappeared into the trees, the wards around your home seemed to settle, reassured by the promise of the man who had always been your quiet protector. You returned inside, the faint scent of chamomile lingering in the air, a reminder of the steady presence that kept your world safe.

It was not just him, of course, and you eagerly awaited the visit from the other knights who have kept your secret.

Masterlist.

[ohisms]

↪     𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 , HISTORICAL 〳 FANTASY edition !   (  a  collection  of  25  settings  based upon the period 〳 fantasy genres ; meant  to  inspire  drabbles  or  be  used  as  prompts . WILL be updated .   )

001. the interior of an elegant carriage .

002. seated at a large dining table set with an elaborate meal .

003. the shadowy corner of a lively tavern .

004. the top of a light house during a raging storm .

005. along the dimly lit corridor of a large manor .

006. the damp , dark brig of a pirate ship .

007. the ruins of an ancient structure lost to time .

008. a theater hall brimming with attendees .

009. the bustling streets of a market town .

010. a sun - drenched vineyard .

011. along a boardwalk overlooking the sea .

012. a moonlit cemetery full of weathered graves .

013. on horseback , deep in the woods .

014. a luxurious drawing room smelling of tea .

015. a sprawling dragon roost , hidden atop craggy mountain peaks .

016. a war - torn battlefield .

017. a beautiful cathedral bustling with churchgoers .

018. within a crammed opera box during a performance .

019. an elegant tearoom serving afternoon refreshments .

020. a lakeside pavilion on an especially hot day .

021. a sprawling network of underground catacombs .

022. a hidden glade in the middle of the woods .

023. the deep , dark dungeon of a castle .

024. a market square full of fruit and fineries .

025. a baker's shop smelling of wonderful pastries .

026. the quiet stables of a large estate .

027. on the outskirts of a magnificent water fountain .

028. in a dimly lit library , hidden amongst the books .

029. among the high walls of a hedge maze .

030. at the front desk of a warm , homey inn .

031. under the protection of a gazebo as it rains .

032. on the landing of a busy train station .

033. a gambling hall alight with raucous laughter and drink .

034. a pristine infirmary , mostly empty .

035. on board a huge ship making a long voyage .

+   20  more  setting  prompts :    6 / 01 / 2024

036. in a sunlit garden adorned with blooming flowers .

037. at the edge of a serene forest lake under a starry sky.

038. within a quiet corridor of a castle during a lavish ball .

039. in a bustling blacksmith's forge , sparks flying .

040. on a rocky cliffside overlooking a vast ocean .

041. in a quaint village square during a festival .

042. within a secret chamber hidden behind a bookshelf .

043. in the grand atrium of a luxurious hotel .

044. along a narrow brick alleyway in a crowded town .

045. within a busy marketplace in a desert town .

046. on a tranquil beach at sunrise .

047. in a cozy cottage with a crackling fireplace .

048. at the helm of a majestic airship soaring through the clouds .

049. in a grand library filled with ancient tomes .

050. on a bustling harbor dock as ships come and go .

051. within a magical forest where the trees glow softly .

052. in an apothecary's shop filled with herbs and potion .

053. at a secluded cabin by a dangerously quick river .

054. within the opulent throne room of a powerful ruler .

055. in an enchanted glade where fairies dance in the moonlight .

[soulshaped]

let me get what i want this time

remus lupin x reader | friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, slow burn

a/n: please, please, please let me get what i want by the smiths will never ever fail to remind me of remus. i was going to make this one part, but i got carried away… there will be more parts i promise!!! this is year 1 

wc: 5.1k

The moon taunts him from where it rests so very far, far away. It is the picture of serenity against the dark night sky and it seems to him as if even the surrounding stars kneel to its great light, head bowed, praying.

Son of the moon, obey me, let go and give in, give in to the wolf, just for the night

The voice is clear, booming and omnipresent, and Remus knows he can not escape it. But still, he is just a boy. He hasn’t received his letter from Hogwarts yet, and he does not know if he ever will. His bones begin to break, over and over again. The skin of his back tears, opening and closing to reshape itself over his growing form. He writhes on the cold, wet cellar floor until the transition becomes just bearable enough for him to roll to a stand, unsteadily. His teeth sharpen, his eyes darken under the moonlight. He is in complete agony, he is alone, and he is just a boy in the body of a wolf. 

The next thing he remembers is the sun kissing the horizon at dawn, waking up gently, like him. The lightened sky is just bright enough for Remus to see the silhouette of his fingers without squinting, confirming that he has the hands of a boy once again. It would be brighter if it wasn’t for being in Wales, if it wasn’t for the days of unbroken clouds above him. He’s not particularly sure where in Wales they are by now, having moved around so often and so quickly for as long as he can recall. Even his earliest memories are of packed bags, rushed whispers, night drives. Loving fingers wound tightly around his little wrists, pulling him deeper and deeper into the mountains. Away from his little home on the coast with the bushels of wildflowers and tall grass he yearned to play in. He wanted to stay there, he wishes he could’ve stayed forever, but it’s far behind him now. 

His father should be coming to free him soon enough. There are heavy metal bars on the windows above him, though Lyall’s magic was doing most of the work to keep the wolf’s chaos contained within the basement walls. Remus knows that he does not mean to be cruel – that his parents are only out of options, not of love. They tried for years and years to find a cure, or even temporary escape from the monster always lying dormant inside of him. The healers had nothing to add to the limited knowledge they had already acquired from ancient books, they knew nothing at all. So Remus knows his parents have only ever wanted what is best for him. But the cellar is cold and damp, his head is pounding incessantly and he yearns for laughter, he yearns for the house by the coast. He prays to a God that he’s sure doesn’t exist. 

Dumbledoor shows up at his doorstep a few moons later. He enters through the front door, blown like a great wind. Lyall and Hope greet him politely, but Remus can see the shock hidden beneath their calm demeanor. He can see how Lyall’s hands have a mild quake as it meets Dumbledoor’s calm, warm palm. Remus shivers too, in hope of a new life. He stands behind his father, but the older man spots him quickly and slips him a small grin. It was nearly imperceptible and it felt like a gift. The tea is still warm when Dumbledoor stands to leave. The meeting was short and concise. Remus would be attending Hogwarts come next September. The life he longed for suddenly seemed close enough to taste.

Fall comes faster that year. Just as the tips of tree branches begin to shine in a golden hue, Remus stands on a train platform surrounded by more people he’s ever seen. He finds his only comfort in his father’s warm, steady hand resting on his shoulder. The train conductor blows the horn in final warning and Remus turns to find his mother holding back tears. He can’t seem to find the right words to say. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Oh, darling, don’t ever be,” Hope kneels down to meet his anxious eyes before continuing, “we only want what’s best for you.”

She picks up his case, pulls his nimble fingers over the handle and covers her hand over his in a quiet, gentle embrace.

“Hogwarts is waiting for you, Remus.” 

He smiles toothily and bids them a farewell, promising to owl as soon as he can. He braces himself as much as possible before stepping onto the train and is immediately overwhelmed by the flurry of fellow students rushing about the corridors, presumably searching for their friends. Luckily, he quickly finds an empty train cart. 

At least what he believes is an empty train cart.

In the very moment he sets his case down, a boy with brunette hair and crooked wire glasses pops his head out of what seems like thin air beside him. His head is excitedly floating about as his body (Remus hopes exists) is still invisible to the eye. 

“Hiya! I’m James Potter!”

“Um… wha-”

“Oh! Sorry mate, I was hiding from my friend, Peter. I really wanted to scare the trousers off of ‘im.”

James’ body is instantaneously visible as he grips a glimmering blanket in his hand. He bundles it up to rest as a messy lump in the space between them. 

“So… what’s your name?”

Remus opens his mouth to answer when he’s ambushed once again. This time, by a very flustered, freckled boy out of breath.

“James,” he squeaks in relief, “there you are, I’ve been looking for you all over this train!”

Remus assumes this must be the Peter that James was referring to. He looks towards Remus with a curious gaze, as if he was nervously sizing him up. It confused Remus greatly, as he didn’t really see himself as threatening, but maybe it was the scars. No one has ever really seen them, outside of his family and himself, so he couldn’t exactly predict a stranger’s reaction to them. He feels the heat traveling rapidly to his cheeks and turns his eyes to the floor. He can almost hear the wolf laughing at his own timidness. 

“Well, I was trying to scare you, but he found me first!”

“Who’s this?” 

“He was about to tell me before you rudely interrupted us, Pete,” James says without a hint of malice.

Remus looks up to be faced with widely different expressions. While Peter’s eyes are slightly narrowed, James’ eyes are wide and enthusiastic, paired with the widest smile he’s ever seen. It’s infectious and he can’t help but smile back. 

“I’m Remus. Remus Lupin.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lupin.”

“Hey! Who are you lot?”

Another head pops into the compartment, which seemed to be growing smaller and smaller by the second. Remus sees the long, black hair first, before a very clean, cut boy with striking grey eyes comes into focus. 

“I’m James Potter, that’s Peter, and that’s Remus. And now, you’re caught up!”

“My family hates yours,” the stranger declares confidently as he pushes in the rest of the way, “it’s perfect.” 

He plops down across from Remus and next to Peter in a great huff. 

“I’m Sirius Black. Anyone want a chocolate frog? I’ve bought about a million to just peeve off my mother.”

Peter jumps in excitement as Sirius empties an entire sack solely dedicated to chocolate frogs. Remus' stomach rumbles with anticipation, it was going to be a very eventful year it seemed. 

The journey passes too quickly, Remus thought, even quicker with the company. As the train pulls into the station, Remus can just make out the aged stone walls on the very top of Hogwarts’ pointed towers. As the carriages pull them closer and closer to the castle, Remus feels a pull of anticipation from the growing pit in his stomach. He knew what was to come in the Great Hall; the Sorting Ceremony had terrified him for weeks, ever since Dumbledoor paid him a visit in Wales. 

He knew Lyall was sorted into Ravenclaw when he attended Hogwarts, a house known by all of the wizarding world for their daring intelligence and wisdom. What if he was sorted into a different house, what would his father think? What if he was sorted into Slytherin? He had felt the harsh disdain and fear in Sirius’ gaze when Slytherin was brought up as a possibility, as if the entire house was a stain on Hogwarts itself. Remus swore he was going to be sick at this rate, maybe he could miss the ceremony entirely and be unsorted. 

Two girls and a boy with long black hair sat across from him and the boys in the Great Hall. His hair was much shorter than Sirius’, and it was cut bluntly, adding a harsh sharpness to his frown. One of the girls had red hair that flowed gracefully down past her shoulders that were bouncing in excitement. The other was more distracted, her nose buried in a muggle book he’d heard of once or twice before. She had an incredibly peaceful smile, in such great contrast to the other boy that it was almost amusing. The more Remus looked at her, the more at peace he felt – all of the noise in the Hall dimmed around him in the nearness of her calm demeanor, a needed break. He looked away immediately when she turned up to meet his unintentional stare, red flushing across his pale skin. But when he peeked at her again from the corner of his eye, he saw that she was turned towards the front of the room now with the same, kind and knowing upturned lips. 

To his relief and (equally as intense) shock, Remus was sorted into Gryffindor. All four boys now sit under the great red and gold banners together. James’ is unable to contain his proud exclamations at all of them, seemingly getting more obnoxious and simultaneously admirable by the second, while Sirius’ head seems to be forever hidden in his arms as he softly bangs his head into the wood he rests on. 

“I’m as dead as dead can be,” Sirius groans into the table, “Walburga is going to hex me into the next century.” 

James smacks a hand on his back, but leaves it resting there, gently. 

“It’ll be alright mate, we’ll be right there with you, together! We’re Gryffindors now! All of us! There’s nothing we can’t do, we’re unstoppable!” 

His energy was undeniably infectious, even pulling a smile out of Sirius who lifted his head to rest his chin on his hands instead. 

“Potter, we get it! Enough, please, for the love of Godric, just let us all eat in peace for a moment,” the red head, Lily, exclaims from a few seats away. 

The other girl, (Y/N), bursts out laughing with her head thrown backwards. 

“Girls… who even decided to invite them anyway…” James mumbles, only ever so slightly disheartened by Lily’s scolding. 

Remus smiles so hard, he finds his cheeks hurting from the tension. He hopes this feeling lasts forever.  

-

The fall of his first year passes in a blur. Sirius’ birthday is the height of the season, with all four boys deciding to pull their first grand prank in celebration. Though Professor McGonagall did not seem to appreciate the exploding toilets as much as Sirius did. 

Moons are just as difficult, even with Madam Pomfrey’s much needed aid, but Remus finds the break from his friends and schoolwork make his returns to normalcy more exciting than he could’ve ever imagined. It’s everything that he yearned for, and yet he’s still awaiting the inevitable fall of the curtain. To reveal what he’s secretly always believed, that this great life was never made for him, that there has been a grave error in placing him, of all people, in the midst of all of this incredible joy. He’ll wake up, one day, and the fantasy will cease to exist. It would be much more believable than his current reality. 

It doesn’t help that so much of what his friends know is a complete fabrication, but it does help that he is the only one constantly worrying about the entanglement of his own lies. No one, to his knowledge, has come to suspect anything, yet. Remus thinks that this may still be due to the distracting excitement of their first year practicing unbelievable magic, but he’ll never be one to kick a gifted horse in the mouth, however temporary. 

He tries to push aside these incessant thoughts and draw his attention back to his work scattered across the table before him. The library is eerily quiet as the evening draws to a close, but he welcomes the silence wholeheartedly. The joints in his knee continue to seer with pain with every wrong step, a result of the most recent moon, but he finds that the complete stillness of the library at this hour helps.

Suddenly, a loud crash sounds a few feet away and Remus jumps. In the same moment, a girl yelps.

“Shoot!”

Remus hurriedly glances around him to find you picking up a concerningly tall pile of books. He can barely see your face behind them. As he starts to arise from his seat to help, pain shoots so far up from his knee he can practically feel it in his throat. He sits back down quickly. 

You manage to balance the pile on the corner of the long table and stand back in a huff. Your eyes meet his own in shock.

“Oh! Remus, hi!”

“Hi, (Y/N). That’s a lot of books.”

“Tell me about it, I don’t know what I was thinking, really, taking out so many,” you sigh.

“Couldn’t help yourself, I suppose?”

“Seems like it, huh?”

For the most part, the first year boys in Hogwarts seem to be in a constant state of annoyance towards all girls, any girl. Godric knows Lily and James have been bickering non-stop since the Sorting Ceremony. 

But, Remus likes you enough, he thinks. You’re really nice to him and you laugh at almost anything. It makes him want to laugh and he isn’t used to it, it’s never come as easy to him as it does to you. He would never see peace again if he ever admitted his real thoughts to the boys, though. They would definitely think of it as a clear betrayal of everything they stand for – girls are the worst. 

“Sorry for the ruckus, by the way, you seemed to be really focused.” 

“It’s alright, wasn’t really doing much anyway.” 

“Well, in that case.”

You plop down into the seat across from him and immediately take the first book perched on the very top of your mountainous pile. He looks at you questioningly. 

“At least one of us should do something productive in this silent library.” 

So the two of you sit peacefully, on opposite sides of the table, reading. Remus isn’t sure how long you’re really there for though. The next thing he remembers is waking up and wiping the drool from his chin as Pince looks down at him in reprimand. 

“You have a bed, Lupin, I suggest you use it.” 

Remus clumsily shuffles to a stand and starts to gather his things when he spots a single chocolate frog resting inches away from his quill. There’s a note attached in scratchy writing,

‘Sleepyhead!!!’

A corner of one of his blank parchments is torn off. Remus carries the frog happily in the pocket of his robes as he limps past Filch, grumpily hanging Christmas garland in the halls. 

-

The holiday season rushes towards them in a hurry, carrying with it a new air to the castle. Maybe it is the layers of snow blanketing the surrounding land, barricading students indoors and leaving them to sprawl lazily across common rooms, deep into the night. Maybe it is the anticipation of their well-earned breaks, buzzing like electricity through their tired fingertips as they rushed to complete their final assignments. Or maybe it is, simply, a combination of all of the above, creating a surge of unrealized energy that seeped into the very walls of Hogwarts. Remus can nearly feel it in the soles of his shoes beneath him as he leaves his very last class before break. It seems as though his friends are a victim to this as well, considering he can hear their yells from three corridors down. He finally approaches the group, their noise reaching a peak as he nears, whilst James and Sirius wrap around his and Peter’s shoulders as they lead them back to the Gryffindor tower. Conveniently so, Remus supposes, as he hears several cauldrons explode at once behind them. By the end of dinner, rumors of ruined classrooms and chalkboards signed with utmost sincerity from the Marauders would be the talk of the school.

“The Marauders, huh?”

“I think it’s catchy,” James grins. “Don’t you think so, Remus?”

“Well, it’s definitely the best of the ones we came up with.”

“And it looks even better written down,” Sirius sighs happily. 

Peter squeaks, “For the whole school to see as well!”

Remus awakes earlier than usual the next morning, eager to soak in just enough of Hogwarts to get him through the holidays. The guilt of dreading his return to Wales is overshadowed by the upcoming full moon, the memory of the basement, and the tired eyes of his father that will follow. The reality of his life, despite his best efforts in ignoring it, is waiting for him on the train platform, just a few hours from now. The overcast sky mirrors his darkening mood, but the incessant snoring from the beds beside him inevitably makes him smile. He knows he will desperately miss the feeling of never being alone for long, even if it’s only for the next few weeks. 

As he swings his legs off the edge of his bed to come to a stand, he accidentally knocks something onto the floor. He doesn’t remember leaving anything at the end of his mattress the night before. It’s a bundle, wrapped (horribly so) in festive paper and when he picks it up gently, he finds more of them resting on top of his comforter. 

They’re presents. For him, supposedly, at least according to his name scribbled messily on the tags. 

The most expensive ones, a huge box filled with dozens of chocolate frogs and a brand new quill set, came from James and Sirius, respectively. Peter got him a box of Bertie Bott’s along with a nice note thanking him for his help in classes, wishing him and his family a Merry Christmas. Madame Pomfrey gifted him two small vials, a Pepper-Up potion and a Sleeping Draught, presumably anticipating his moon at the end of the month just as he was. 

There was one more, the only one addressed to him in fancy cursive. It was a muggle book, Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier, wrapped in a big red bow with delicate gold trim. It was in rough shape, clearly used, with small markings in familiar handwriting all over the text. He’d seen you reading it once as he passed you by in the halls, but he didn’t think you’d seen him. There was a note as well, politely wishing him happy holidays with your name written in the same pretty cursive at the bottom. 

“Found your presents did you, Remus?”

Sirius was sitting up from his open four-poster bed across the room, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

“Uh, yeah,” he responds, quickly tucking the book under his covers. 

The curtains from the bed on his left rip open aggressively, revealing James’ wide smile, 

“Well?! Do you like them?”

“Of course! I’m sorry I didn’t–” Remus turns away, unable to stop his cheeks from heating up, but hoping he can still hide them. “I didn’t realize you guys were getting me gifts. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything yet.”

“Don’t worry, Remus, I’m sure we’ll like whatever you get,” Peter chimes in. 

Before he can respond, Sirius throws a quick glare towards Peter on the other side of the room,

“Remus doesn’t need to get us anything, if he so pleases.”

“We don’t need anything in return, Remus. It was just a little something from us, no biggie, really,” James responds, more sincere than ever before. It was almost unnatural, given his usual joking tone laced into his every word. 

“Thanks,” Remus directs at them before throwing Peter a smile, hoping to quell the much too wounded look on his face, “and I’ll definitely be owling you guys your gifts for Christmas Day.” 

They moved on from the subject quickly then, their stomachs rumbling out for breakfast. Remus reminded himself to carefully pack the book you’d given him in between his cloaks later, just so he was absolutely sure your note wouldn’t get damaged. 

-

For most students, returning to Hogwarts castle in the thick of winter was an unpleasant experience. Even after the constant excitement and adrenaline that comes with the holidays, students quickly descended into restlessness almost as soon as they stepped foot back on the snow-covered land. It wasn’t uncommon to overhear the groans and pleas for spring – the inevitable months of rain that would wash away the snow and bring new life. They were desperate for something brighter, something livelier. 

Luckily for everyone, the Marauders seized all of this pent-up energy with vigor. Winter was officially the season of mischief, and they had a high standard to uphold after their iconic pre-Christmas prank. Remus found himself returning to the dorm after long days in the library only to see Sirius and James whispering and cackling at the foot of his bed more often than not. To their credit, they had various texts splayed open on their laps, though none of them were related to their courses in the slightest. 

Remus, on the other hand, thought his research skills could be applied better elsewhere. He’s already read most of the beginner and elementary books in the library, after all. 

Ever since he found a hidden cubby behind a small tapestry in one of the corridors on the way to Transfiguration (completely by accident, it was Severus’ fault for practically pushing him into it), it was all he could think about. It tugged at his attention constantly – in classes, in the common room, in his dreams. His curiosity for all of the other hidden spots throughout the castle–there must be hundreds in an establishment of this age–could not be quenched, not until he’d found them all, or most of them, at very least. 

James’ invisibility cloak became infinitely useful for his purposes and given the endlessly gracious nature of his personality, he never once asked Remus what he needed it for. Remus would have told him, told all of them actually, if they asked. But they hadn’t yet, so he didn’t mind having a non-wolf related secret to himself. It almost made him feel normal. 

He didn’t need the cloak tonight, though. It was still early and a while before curfew; the sun had just set when Remus finished his work, casting the sky in a mixture of pink and purple hues as he walked along the open hallway past the Transfiguration courtyard. It is getting closer and closer to spring now, and he has been able to push his boundaries of discovery even farther than ever before with the weather on his side. He’s found nooks and crannies all over the castle, so many, in fact, that he’s begun to wonder whether he should draw up a map soon. He’s thinking about this one particular spot tonight, behind a statue of an awfully hunched back lady with one eye, that he’s sure is something… if only he could find just the right spell…

As he turns the corner, Remus stumbles upon the first spot he ever found, behind the tapestry, same as before. Almost mindlessly, he pushes aside the thick, dusty fabric, not knowing what he was expecting to see. He nearly jumps out of his skin when all he can see is a dark mop of hair hunched over onto a dim ball of light. As the thing, whatever it is, turns around, he opens his mouth to scream. For a second, he thinks he is screaming, before he realizes the sound is coming from your mouth instead. 

The gears finally begin to click into motion as his eyes dart from your familiar face (currently looking horrified) to the wand in your hand casting the Lumos charm. In your lap rests a rather large novel that you had snapped closed in your panic – it was The Count of Monte Cristo. 

“What’d you do that for?!”

“Me?” Remus gapes at you. “You! You’re the one curled up creepily behind the tapestry!” 

“Well… leave me to be creepy, then!” You huff. “What are you doing? Sneaking around peeking behind all of the castle’s tapestries?”

“I–I wasn’t… it’s none of your business!”

You narrow your eyes at him as the outer corners of your lips tug upwards slowly, as if directed by a puppeteer with a string. It sends a chill down the length of his spine, and he convinces it’s the residual fear from when he hadn’t known it was you. 

“Alright, then.” You drop your annoyance instantaneously, shrugging your shoulders as if you really can’t be bothered. 

“At least help me out of here, would you, Lupin?” 

He quickly wipes his hands on his robes, just in case, before offering up his palm. Your small hand slips into his with ease as he tugs you lightly up and out of the hole. It’s cold, much colder than his, but he tends to run hot. It feels nice. Once you’re in a standing position, however, you unfortunately take your hand back to rest on top of the book in your arms and Remus isn’t able to relish in the physical touch for as long as he would’ve liked to. 

“Shall we head back, then? It’s almost curfew.” You say distractedly, glancing down at your wristwatch. 

“Sure,” Remus shrugs. 

You don’t ask him again about why he was looking behind the tapestry, and he doesn’t ask you about your choice of reading spots. Thus, the pair of you are left in relative silence, with only your footfalls echoing along the cobblestone walls, in tandem. 

As the Fat Lady portrait accepts the password and swings open, Remus gestures for you to enter first. He quickly follows, stepping into the toasty common room to find you stopped in front of his friends and Lily, lounging on the couch. All of their eyes morph into various different expressions–confusion, suspicion, amusement, a mixture of all of the above. Sirius’ eyes look especially full of mirth, but just as he opens his mouth, Lily kicks him from where she lays on the carpeted floor. You and Remus exchange a quick, confused look, causing Sirius to actually scoff. 

“Well… anyway, bye Lupin.”

Lily walks over and winds her arm around yours, tugging you up the stairwell to the girls’ dormitory. 

Remus sits down in front of the fireplace, facing his best friends, looking down at him questioningly. 

“What?”

“He dares to ask us what?” Sirius guffaws.

“Are you two… friends?” James asks, one eyebrow raised in a slight curve. 

Remus shrugs, “I don’t know… I guess? I’ve only talked to her a few times.”

He doesn’t dare mention your Christmas gift, definitely not now, maybe not ever. 

Sirius frowns, clearly displeased with his response. “You better not replace us with her.”

“Of course not. Girls suck anyway…”

It lacks the confidence Remus was aiming for, but it seems to do the trick. Sirius laughs, James smirks, and Peter nods, all in agreement. They quickly move on to other topics, mainly discussing the upcoming prank they’ve planned. Soon enough, their yawns become more and more frequent and they head to bed. 

Remus finds it hard not to smile as he remembers your angry expression after being scared.

-

Spring comes and goes quickly, and not before long, the sweltering heat of summer becomes almost suffocating. The Shrieking Shack, in particular, is unbearable in the heat. Still, he is dreading his return to Wales. 

At the end of course exams, when all his first year work has finally come to a close, Remus gets a letter delivered directly from Professor McGonagall. The look on her face is unclear as she hands it to him–it doesn’t seem as though it is good news. But surely, if he was being kicked out of Hogwarts, if they decided that the wolf was too much, too dangerous, they would tell him in person and not through a letter. 

He sits on it for much longer than necessary. It’s one of the last nights in the dorm, when all of the other boys have gone to bed with light hearts, he sits with his own in the pit of his stomach. It weighs heavier and heavier with each breath, so he tears open the letter in a blind panic, just to try and rid himself of this feeling. 

His eyes scan over the words as fast as he can, but it’s a short letter and the meaning fails to make any sense. He goes back to the top, reading it slowly this time. It tells him to go directly to St. Mungo’s to meet his parents, as soon as he arrives at King’s Cross Station. It provides some vague instructions on how to get there, before ending with a few explanatory words. 

Please ask the front desk for Hope Lupin’s floor and room number upon arrival.

Remus is many things, but he is not shocked. He is guilty, for feeling so much dread about returning home, all while his own mother was sick and stuck in a hospital, likely wishing to be anywhere else. Maybe, if he hadn’t spent so much time angry at himself, angry at the world, maybe things would be different. Maybe if the wolf never existed, Hope would still be healthy. The stress, after all these years, couldn’t have been good for her health. Remus is many things, but he is not shocked. He was not foolish enough to ever let himself fully believe that he could be happy here, finally get what he wanted. Misery seems to always follow him wherever he goes, even all the way to Hogwarts, and he wonders helplessly if he will ever be free from it.

[valkyrie1435atla]

Part 17: A Thankless Job

Next Part

Part 1

Previous part

Masterpost

CW: quite a lot of blood, gore.

notes:

缬草根 xie2cao3gen1 - valerian root, of the valerian flower, which contains valproic acid- C8H16O2 - Anticonvulsant; It can treat seizures and bipolar disorder.

麻沸散 ma2fei4san4- a herbal oral anesthetic used in ancient china, it’s exact ingredients are unknown, but many believed it contained powdered cannabis or monkshood.

Corydalis flower/root, Turmeric, Ginger Root, and Safflower all contain pain-relieving compounds.

YiSheng’s burn salve is a mixture of aloe vera, honey, and tea tree oils.

This is the longest part yet!

Yishengs logbook:

早上-六點三十二

病人：祖寇王子

這早甲板上祖寇王子突然的昏倒。甲板水手然洱 來接我。艾洛將軍幫我把王子抬到他的住處。

受伤原因已查明.

一切都染成了紅色。我的心靈被鮮血染紅

[solarlyls]

𝒲𝓪𝓲𝔱𝗂𝗇𝖌 𝚛𝖔ᵒ𝓶 𝔦𝒹𝑒α𝓼 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

𝒫ixie ℋollow 𝒲r

⟡— Stroll through a forest where giant flowers sway gently and towering mushrooms cast soft shadows. Rest in the heart of an old oak tree, and spin beneath a sky scattered with endless stars, their glow that stretches across the quiet night.

To step into the reality you desire, take a handful of pixie dust, let it slip between your fingers, and as you scatter it over yourself, and think of your destination. The path will open.

𝒜bandoned 𝒞astle 𝒲r

⟡— Walk through the gleaming white marble halls of your castle, or dip your toes in the waves along the shoreline. Dance through the corridors, whether alone or with a companion.

To enter the reality you want, find one of the locked doors, unlock it with a special key, and step through.

ℳermaids 𝒢rove 𝒲r

⟡— The mermaid’s grove, where sparkling freshwater shimmers and the morning sunlight kisses your skin as you pause for a moment of peace, or dive in for a swim if you’d like. Swim beneath the surface, exploring the depths at your own pace.

To enter the place you seek, choose one of the many lilypads, whisper a wish into the breeze, and let it guide you.

ℳusical 𝒯heater 𝒲r

⟡— The grand red velvet curtains rise, revealing a stage set just for you, waiting for your story to unfold. Sing, act, and step into the role of your dr self in this waiting room, taking a break in the dressing rooms or mingling with others between scenes.

Recreate a moment, a memory, a glimpse of the world you long for. And when the final bow is taken and the curtains close—you’ll find yourself in it.

𝒢arden 𝒲r

⟡— A maze, a garden, a hidden sanctuary. Wander through paths lined with blooming flowers and willow trees, or let the warmth of the nearby lake embrace you. If you’re feeling bold, step into the maze, its winding paths that shift with every turn.

Somewhere within, the right path awaits. Find it, and it will lead you to the reality you wait for.

𝒩ature ℬurrow 𝒲r

⟡— A hidden neighborhood nestled in nature, where cozy houses are all connected, their walls woven with vines and their doors open through small burrowed tunnels. Step through one, and you’ll find yourself in another home, another story, another moment.

But tread carefully, because some of these burrows don’t just lead next door. Some lead to an entirely different reality.

𝒲ater 𝒫alace 𝒲r

⟡— A palace where the floors ripple beneath your feet, made entirely of shimmering water. Some rooms hold glassy pools, inviting you to swim and drift in the waters of your royal home.

But be mindful, some of these pools are more than they seem. Step into the right one, and it will carry you into another reality.

𝒢olden ℋour ℱorest 𝒲r

⟡— A calm, inviting forest bathed in the endless glow of golden hour. Willow trees sway gently, their long branches brushing against lakes sprinkled with drifting petals. The air hums with the soft rustle of leaves and the distant calls of unseen creatures.

Linger too long in the shade of an ancient tree, step into a sunbeam at just the right moment, and you may find yourself somewhere entirely new.

𝒯reetop ℋouse 𝒲r

⟡— Houses nestled high in the trees, connected by sturdy ropes that let you wander from home to home, suspended above the ground. Swing from the branches, dangle in the open air, and drop into the safety of woven nets below.

But be mindful of the height, if you fall too far and if you let go with just a little too much belief, you might slip through more than just the air and find yourself into a new reality.

𝒜lice ℐn 𝒲onderland 𝒯eaparty 𝒲r

⟡— A whimsical tea party in a wonderland of your own making, where all your favorite people and creatures gather around a table filled with endless treats. Laughter fills up the air as you dance, sing, and share stories between sips of tea and bites of delicate pastries. Wander through the twisting maze, or step onto the giant chessboard and become a piece in the game.

But choose your tea wisely, one brewed with reality petal herb carries more than just flavor. With a single sip, you’ll find yourself slipping into the reality of your desire.

[sa1ntn3k0]

Snow Leopard Gojo (∩˃o˂∩) ♡ nsfw!

The sun perched high in the sky, its golden rays filtering through pillowy clouds that drifted lazily like overstuffed cotton balls. They played a tiny game of peek-a-boo with the light, casting dappled shadows over Tokyo University’s sprawling campus before leaving, bathing the world again in a warm, buttery glow. You tilted your face upward, savoring the breeze that tousled your hair, a gentle, vanilla-scented kiss from spring. This was your favorite kind of day: bright enough to lift your spirits but soft enough to keep the world from feeling too loud. Perfect for the oversized cardigan you’d thrown over your pastel-yellow mini dress, its airy fabric fluttering around your thighs like sunlight given form.  

Your morning lecture, unfortunately, had been anything but luminous. Your Professor’s monotone voice had dragged through the hours like a knife through cold, stiff butter, dissecting a research paper on quantum physics that might as well have been written in ancient Aramaic. You’d doodled bunnies and cartoon cats in the margins of your notebook, your mind wandering to the cafe you loved, the one with the heart-shaped mugs and the barista who always added a sprinkle of cinnamon to your chai. But getting there meant braving Shibuya’s chaos: the screech of trains, the tsunami of suits and school uniforms flooding the crossing, the neon signs that buzzed like angry wasps. Just thinking about it made your shoulders tense.  

No, today calls for compromise. You’d settle for the sleepy little shop near FamilyMart, even if their tea tasted like water with a dash of sugar. Slinging your tote bag higher onto your shoulder, its pastel patches of Miffy and Hello Kitty clinking gently against your thermos, you stepped onto the sidewalk, your strappy sandals tapping a quiet rhythm against the pavement. The dress you wore hugged your curves sweetly, its buttercup hue mirroring the sun, while your lips glimmered with a gloss that smelled like strawberries. You’d dressed up for no one in particular, really, but there was joy in feeling pretty, even if only the breeze noticed, and unfortunately that perv two seats behind you in class.  

The cafe’s bell jingled as you entered, its air thick with the aroma of stale croissants and bitter espresso. You beelined for the refrigerated case, grabbing a bottled milk tea and a pastry swirled with pink strawberry cream, its flaky layers far too enticing to leave without. Back outside, you claimed a bench beneath a cherry blossom tree, its petals drifting around you like confetti. The first sip of tea was cloying and underwhelming, but the pastry? Too good. The cream burst on your tongue, tart and sugary, and you closed your eyes for a blissful second-  

Rustle.  

Your thick lashes fluttered open. The bush beside the bench shivered, leaves trembling gently. No wind stirred the air. You leaned closer, squinting, as the rustling came again, more insistent now. A tiny, pearlescent paw poked out, followed by a puff of fur so impossibly white it seemed spun from moonlight. Your heart squeezed... A kitten!  

“Hi, baby,” you cooed, crouching low, your dress pooling around you like melted sunshine. The creature crept forward, and- oh.  

This was no ordinary kitten.  

Snow-leopard cubs weren’t exactly part of Tokyo’s urban wildlife, but there he was: a miniature king of the mountains, his fur a tapestry of charcoal rosettes and ivory silk. His paws were comically oversized, velvety pads as pink as bubblegum, and his tail, thick and banded with shadow, swished with mischief. But it was his eyes that stole your breath: twin pools of Arctic cerulean, glowing with an almost otherworldly intelligence. They locked onto yours, unblinking, as he toddled closer, his little nose twitching at your pastry.  

“Hungry, huh?” you giggled, breaking off a crumb. He lunged, a blur of fur and enthusiasm, snatching the treat from your fingers with a tiny mrowp! “Hey!” you gasped, but the scolding died in your throat as he flopped onto his back, the stolen prize clutched between his paws. His belly was fluffier than a ball of sugary mochi, and when he purred, it sounded like a tiny motorboat.  

“You’re a little thief,” you murmured, scritching the soft fur beneath his chin. His purrs vibrated, and he nuzzled your hand, his pink tongue rasping against your thumb. That’s when you felt it, a slim ribbon of leather around his throat. A collar? You coaxed him onto your lap, heart hammering as you traced the tiny tag.  

Satoru, it read, in curlicue letters.  

A human name for this definitely not-human creature. Your thumb brushed the tag again, half-expecting it to vanish like a dream. But Satoru merely chirruped, batting a paw at your hair, his claws sheathed. He reeked of wet grass and mischief, but also… loneliness? You glanced around. No frantic owners in sight, no posters pleading for a lost cub. Just you, this mysterious little being, and the sudden, unshakable sense that fate had dropped him into your path.  

Finders keepers, right?

“Alright, Satoru,” you sighed, bundling him against your chest. He curled instinctively into the warmth, his nose tucked into the dip in your collarbone. “You’re coming home with me.”  

The train ride was a blur of whispered coos and stealthy cuddles. Satoru slept the entire way, a living, breathing heat pad, his paws kneading your cardigan into a doughy mess. By the time you reached your apartment, he’d claimed you as his personal pillow, his purrs vibrating through your ribs. You deposited him gently on your bed, a nest of floral quilts and plushies, and watched, smitten, as he stretched, his tiny claws catching the sunlight.  

“Mama’s gonna kill me if she finds you,” you whispered, smoothing a thumb between his ears. He blinked up at you, those galaxy-blue eyes crinkling with what could only be… smugness?  

No, that was silly. 

The Great Bath Incident�� began, as most disasters do, with way too much optimism.  

Two days. Two days of Satoru’s reign of terror had left your apartment smelling like grass and dirt. His fur, once as pristine as freshly fallen snow, now resembled a dust mop dragged through a dusty corner of your living room. He’d rolled in something unspeakable during his 3 a.m. zoomies, something that clung to him like a vengeful ghost and made your nose crinkle every time he trotted past.  

“Okay, baby,” you announced, scooping him off the windowsill where he’d been sunbathing like a tiny, furry emperor. “Spa day.”  

Satoru’s ears flattened. His light azure eyes widened into saucers, pupils dilating with betrayal.  

“Mrrrp?”  

“Yes, mrrow,” you said firmly, marching him to the bathroom. “You reek of dirt and tuna.”  

The bath itself was… a spectacle.  

You’d prepared meticulously: hypoallergenic honey-scented shampoo (the fancy kind for “sensitive babies,” according to the label), a stack of baby pink Hello kitty towels warmed in the dryer, and a rubber ducky you’d impulsively bought because look at his face, how could you not? Satoru took one glance at the filled tub, hissed like a deflating balloon, and attempted a gravity-defying backflip out of your arms.  

“Nuh uh! No escaping!” You wrestled him gently into the water, his paws slapping the surface in protest. Bubbles foamed around him as he yowled pitifully, his tail thrashing like a fluffy whip. “You’re fine-it’s warm, see? Warm!”  

He was not convinced.  

Satoru transformed into a soggy gremlin, all claws and drama, splashing enough water to water a small farm. His squeaky protests echoed off the tiles, a bomb of bratty chirps and growls that somehow still sounded way too adorable. You couldn’t help but giggle as he tried (and failed) to scale your Miffy shower curtain, his soapy paws slipping comically.  

“You’re such a baby,” you cooed, scrubbing between his ears. His fur lathered into a marshmallow fluff, revealing the striking black rosettes beneath the grime. “Look how pretty you are! So handsome! Yes, you!”  

He paused mid-squirm, tilting his head at your praise. His whiskers twitched.  

“…Prrt?”  

“Very handsome,” you confirmed, booping his cute little nose. “The handsomest little snow boy in all of Tokyo- hell, the world.”  

Satoru looked way too full of himself, his tantrum momentarily forgotten. He allowed you to rinse him, though not without a few half-hearted swats at the showerhead. By the time you reached for the heated towel, he’d morphed into a docile little loaf, his fur gleaming like spun sugar.  

“All done!” you chirped, turning to grab the towel-  

Sploosh.  

A sound like a wet mop hitting the floor.  

You froze.  

Then came the drip-drip-drip of water, the creak of the tub, and-  

“Ahem.”  

A voice.  

A human voice.  

Deep. Smug. Somehow familiar.  

Your spine went rigid. Slowly, so slowly, you turned.  

There, lounging in your now half-empty tub like a pampered sultan, was a man.  

A naked man.  

A gloriously, infuriatingly beautiful naked man.  

Your brain paused.  

He was all lean muscle and snow-white skin, his physique carved so sharply, it made your cheeks burn up, heart race fast. Damp white hair clung to his forehead, framing a face that belonged on a Renaissance painting, sharp jawline, pink, plush lips quirked in a smirk, his strong neck held a baby blue leather collar, and eyes… Oh.  

Eyes like glacial lakes, bright and bottomless, flecked with starlight. Satoru’s eyes.  

Your gaze darted higher.  

Oh no.  

White ears twitched atop his head, velvety and tipped with ink-black fur. Behind him, a tail as thick as your thigh swayed lazily, its leopard-like rosettes glistening.  

“Hey,” the man purred, resting his chin on the tub’s edge. His voice dripped with mischief. “What’s up?”  

You screamed.  

Not a dignified scream. A full-throttle, horror-movie-worthy screech that rattled your strawberry mint toothpaste tube off the sink.  

“Wh-WHAT?! WHO-HOW-”  

He blinked innocently, tail swishing. “Aw, c’mon, princess. You’ve been calling me ‘handsome’ and ‘baby’ for days. Don’t act shy now.” His voice was all smooth, like honey, but so mischievous-like, you felt way too many emotions.  

Your face combusted. “THAT WAS FOR A CAT!”  

“And yet here I am.” He stretched, water sloshing as he raised his arms above his head, displaying a torso that could’ve been chiseled by Michelangelo. His underarms bore fluffy white hair, the amount of hair only a grown man could have. “Better than a cat, right?”  

You hurled the pink towel at his face.  

He caught it effortlessly, grinning with a flash of faintly pointed canines. “Feisty! I like it.” Wrapping the towel around his hips (thank God), he rose from the tub, droplets cascading down his- Nope. Don’t look. Don’t you dare look. 

You looked.

His lower half was… Wow. His abs were more defined when he stood, a fluff of white hair ran down his belly button, you could see the outline of his hung dick through Hello Kitty’s bow, and you felt blood rush, fast. You wanted to pass out, wake up to your baby, not some hot dude! 

“S-Satoru?!” you squeaked, scrambling backward until your spine hit the door.  

“The one and only!” He winked, flicking a wet ear. “Thanks for the bath, by the way. And the gourmet lamb chops. And the snuggles.” His tail curled playfully. “You’re a way better pillow than my last owner.”  

Your mind reeled. The all-night zoomies. The picky eating. The smugness. It all clicked into place like a cursed jigsaw puzzle.  

“You-you’ve been a human this whole time?!”  

“Hybrid,” he corrected, leaning against the sink with infuriating casualness. “Snow leopard genes, human charm. Cute, right?” He flashed human jazz hands, claws retracted.  

You gaped. “Cute?! You destroyed my Miffy lamp! You jumped on my boobs!”  

“Hey, you’re the one who kept cuddling me while you slept.” He smirked, stepping closer. His tail brushed your ankle, impossibly soft, annoyingly wet. “Not that I minded. You’re really warm, and man, your tits are soft as-”  

Your face flamed. “OUT. Get out of my bathroom! Put on clothes! Explain yourself!”  

Satoru chuckled, low and rumbling-a sound that vibrated straight through your bones. “Don’t got any, smarty pants.”

You lunged for the door handle. He was faster.  

A big, human hand (warm, genuinely huge) pressed the door shut above your head, caging you in. His scent enveloped you, honey shampoo, snowfall, something wild and electric.  

“Relax,” he murmured, leaning down until his nose nearly brushed yours. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Unless…” His gaze dropped to your pillowy lips. “…you want me to.”  His breath was minty, smelling of the kitty toothpaste you rubbed those fangs clean with a few minutes ago.

Your breath hitched. “Wh-”  

Ding-dong!  

The doorbell rang.  

Satoru’s ears pricked. “Expecting someone?”  

Your blood turned to ice.  

“…Mama.”  

His smirk vanished. “Shit.”

End, for now. Hehe.

Whoop! That was fun, I love snow leopard Gojo, he's so… Ugh, need him. Of course, will be continuing, want to lean this into a smutty fic, so stay with me! I'm super busy with my classes but I’ll try to upload asap! Also, I see reader as 18-21, or higher if you think of grad school or whatever. Satoru’s his 29-year-old self!

[glitchy1938]

I didn’t see rules for requesting so I’m sorry if this isn’t something you’d be interested in

but what about the beasts (you don’t have to do all of them if you don’t wanna) with a reader who gets visions of the future and past? Like they’ll occasionally just pause, get this vacant look in their eyes for like 30 seconds and then change what they were doing? Maybe they have a almost knowing look on their face as people speak to them, like they’ll occasionally just know more then they let on.

I hope you don't minde that I add my OC in this story, hope you like it !!

Maybe... If I change it....

[Beasts cookies x reader]

You were the only cookie with the vision who can see the future and past, you were also an ancient, so most of the time, the cookies asked you only about their future, if they'll have what they want, ect... It was insupportable, but you were more worried about the other Ancients, your friends...

Specially Blueberry Milk cookie, mystic floor cookie, Burning Spice Cookie ans Red Chocola cookie... These were your closest friends, but you started to see what would happen to them... You saw by only looking at them, how all of them were devoured by the darkness and got corrupted and how Red Chocola die by trying to stop them but got almost killed if her creatore didn't heal her while she was trapped like all your friends in the tree....

You didn't want this to happen, you loved them too much to see the vision of their future becoming corrupted... If only- But wait... Yes YOU can change this... ! You can maybe fixed what have made them broken !...

Blueberry milk Cookie

• He was the cookie of knowledge, he can tell when there is something conserne you. He got a little worried.

• He was surprised that you actually came very time he feel overwhelmed but the cookie who doesn't stop questing him, like you replace him so that he can relax or take a break.

• You also helped him a lot with the chores, whenever he can't do two things, you're right next to him anf doing it instead of him, and he's very grateful for that.

• Sometimes, he catch you looking at him and he ask you if you were alright, and you reply by saying 'yes' most of the time. He's really concerned about you and he want to help hou as much as you did.

• He really like your jokes if you make some, or if you sing it really help him with his poems, he's grateful to have a friend like you... But he can't help but to be conserne when you look at him and being sad...

"My My, you really are something when you sing dear friend" he said while you two where at his garden and drinking tea, you just smile him back, happy to make him smile, "Oh, you know me, always happy to make others happy !!". He then take a sip of his cup, and saw you glare at him... But.... You seem.... Like you were... Sad...

He was worried "Are you feeling alright friend ? You seem concern ?... Is everything alright in your kingdom ? Are those cookies too much to handle ?" He asked as he look at you. You were startled and shake your head and just made a fake smile "Oh, don't worry, it's just how responsible it is to use your ability on EVERY cookie until the night, but worry not, it's you and the others who are much more important..!"

He look at you surprised by your words... Did you see something that could happen to him and his friends ??... Why won't you tell him.. but, he doesn't want to get you worried too much about him so he let go... For now..

Burning Spice Cookie

• Now this man... You knew how was this Kingdom, for him as he described, it was boring, even when Red chocola came to have a little fight to have some fun, it was still boring to him.

• He was surprised when you dragged him out of this Kingdome for the first time, showing new things that seem to intervened him, and it was never the same place you took him every night, you always managed to find new places to show him.

• He was a very grumpy man, but is glad to see other thing than what the same boring cycle hid kingdom was. But he saw the look on your face when he get too bored or when he argue with Red Chocola Cookie when they fight.

• It was like.... You were scared.... if him... He didn't want to scare you !! He may have a grumpy side, but he wouldn't never ever, EVER ley a finger on you or yell at you ! He.... Care deeply for you...!!

• He can see in your eyes that, when you look into his eyes for a second, you were scared of sad.. He want to know what concerns you so much about him, he doesn't want to push you too hard to tell him but he will ask you none stop how are you doing and take care of you

You two just came back from a festival and you were just laughing of how much fun you two had, he looked at you while you were eating some gummy, but also saw some reed on your eyes... Have you not sleep ??

"Hey, why haven't you sleep ? I told you to stop overworking yourself !" He said a little annoyed by that, you look at him surprised and than touch your face... "Does that show too much...?" You whisper, he looked at you for a few moments before he pick you up with one arms and start walking back to his kingdom.

"h-hey !! What are you doing ?!" "Picking you,what else." He replied still holding you. "You always overworking yourself and that piss me off. I... I care for you you know... So... Don't lower yourself too much okay, but most of all what are you so scared or sad when you look at me?!" He said looking back at you, you look to the ground... You wanted to tell him what would happen to him, but you decided not to, but.... "I'm scared...." You whisper to him as he look at you surprised..."Scared ?... Scared of what ?" He asked.

You remember what you saw in his future, how cruel he became, destroying many cities and villages for his fun, and his horrible laugh.... You were scared of HIM. But not wanted to shock him, you say "of if we will all still together and we don't all including me feel into the darkness..." He then stop walking, he thought for a second and the. Sight. "Firefly." He said as you look at him... "I... Promis you that even if I'll be into the darkness... I'll NEVER EVER hurt you. I wouldn't even dream of harming you !" You two looked at each other and you give him a soft smile, thanking him for this promise.

Mystic Flour Cookie

• She didn't expect you and some of your guards to come and to hear you saying that your guards will protect her from the greedy cookie that comes to her to fulfill their wishes.

• She was happy to see you, don't get her wrong, she's just curious about why do you keep asking her how was she feeling every day or giving her meals so that she can eat or go to sleep.

• You almost baby her when she's going on a walk alone, you mostly following her behind but she can still feel your presence.

• She like your musics, she can listen to your voice rambling about anything you like, or hearing you singing make her relax. But she starting to also see how you look at her.

• Did she do something ? Have you see something happening to her ? She really want to ease your mind, but also want to know what concerns you about her. She know your ability and that made her worried about you....

You two were at the garden as you were singing a calm song for her to relax,she was smiling at the sound of your voice, "you have an angelic voice, I must say" she said when you finished, you look at her surprised and blushed a little because of the compliment "Oh ! Thanks, I-I really appreciate it ^^" a small silence surrounded you two.

She look at you, and saw some reed on your eyes, she then told you to come closer and to lay with her on her lap, you decline but she just took you and place you in her lap as she brush your hear, you soon feel more relaxed when you feel her soft touch.

"Dear, I want to help you as much as you helped me, may you tell me what made you so concern about me ?" She asked, you looked at her and that turn you face away from hers, you didn't want to make her worried about you... You just hoped that the guards you came with will be able to stop the greedy cookies to come any closer to her.

"I-I... I'm just worried about those cookies.... Just like me, we both have some powers for making wishes come true to them, and I can't help but to worry about you...! I don't want them to hurt you...!!" You said as you suddenly hugged her, she was taking by surprise but gently give you back your hug, telling you that none of this will never happen.

That she was still with you and the other Ancients, and she'll never live your side.. maybe you can truest this time...

[meeshnut]

Made time for a little Ancient Tree Raw Pu’er as my first tea time in a fair bit.

When I don’t have time to sit with it I brew bagged tea, but there’s always something special about brewing my loose leaf tea and just being there with it.

[harridansibyl]

Personal associations/interpretations of the dark/mystical houses (4th, 6th, 8th, 12th)

4th house

twisted tree roots, cultural practices, heirlooms, photo albums, inherited features, traditions, the mother, past lives, generational trauma, picture books, garden beds, childhood homes, ancestor altars, hand written recipe books, hearth, squeaky wooden floorboards, genealogy archives, caves, oak trees, baby wrap carriers, emotional security, cultural heritage, building foundations, photo albums, genetics, laundry lines, swing sets, property, mines, crops, sanctuaries, the chest and heart, home steads, fields, farms, root cellars, harvests, pots on stoves, brooms, backyards, agriculture, vines on trellises, handmade blankets, grandparents house, laundry baskets, attachment styles, singing lullabies, history, deep emotions, instincts, the unconscious, summer, waxing moon, vase of flowers, bath time, picking berries, celebrating holidays, chicken coops, older sisters, family gatherings, stone paths, forest walks, ancient structures/buildings, ancestral languages, cupboards, staying in

6th house

vitamins and supplements, morning routines, pharmacies, tasks and lists, doctors offices, health food stores, stomach medicine, hygiene practices, journals and planners, schedules, herbal teas, personal rituals, emergency kits, dog walks, lymphatic drainage, caregiving, donating blood, examinations and checkups, meditation, colour coordination, sticky notes, gastrointestinal problems, folded laundry, labels on everything, retirement homes, hand washing, braided hair, herb gardens, filing cabinets, face masks, kombucha, detailed diagrams, volunteer work, medicine cabinets, cleaning supplies, shelves, acts of service, skin care, organic linen, gauze and stitches, stress-induced illnesses, essential oil/herb baths, house plants, instructions, repetition, holistic medicine, giving advice, yoga studios, "gut feeling," bone broth

8th house

altars, divination, near death experiences, candle wax, feeling crushed by a heavy weight, grave dirt, red/dim lighting, funerals, double income, control, the underworld, cheques, insurance, heirlooms, ghost sightings, power imbalances, crime documentaries, ouroboros, bank accounts, grief and loss, shadow work, the womb, manipulation, scrying mirrors, Russian nesting dolls, keys, mortuaries, tests from the universe, pendulums, crime scene tape, the phoenix, projections, credit scores, animal bones on a forest floor, blood stained sheets, metaphysical shops, spiritual attacks, deep emotions, snakes, dead flowers, late autumn, wedding veils, envelopes, full moon, muddy boots, shadows at the corners of your vision, scarab beetles, inner processing, experiencing crisis, inherited possessions, natural disasters, sexual trauma, psychological studies, ancestral connections, cracked dolls, veil between realms, mental illnesses, deep connections, intimacy, reincarnation, torture devices, keys, whirlpools, the sound of sirens, unconscious fears, intense first impressions, pushing limits, feeling bound, scratches on walls, ten of swords

12th house

abandoned places, liminal spaces, long winters, shadowy figures, reoccurring dreams, repeated patterns, fog-filled forests, self analysation, inner worlds, cave systems, unfinished basements, hallucinations, solitary confinement, empty parking garages, spiral staircases, substance abuse, trapped in purgatory, hidden beneath the surface, maladaptive daydreaming, hospital hallways, confines of society, waning moon, moths, wandering aimlessly, disconnection from the world, psych wards, healing others, tired eyes or dark circles, chronic mental illness, suppression, addictions, hiding places, overnight shifts, unexplainable experiences, past life karma, exhaustion, cobwebs, others projections, catacombs, bird cages, premonitions in dreams, prescription bottles, self destructive patterns, late night walks, misty lakes, the feeling of walking out of the movie theater at night, identity crises, blurred faces, empty public transport, astral projection, comas, diary entries, dissociative episodes, shape shifting, generational trauma, observing people, mirrors, padded rooms, the afterlife, chain link fences, paradoxes, feeling misunderstood, repression or memory loss, hikikomori, the freeze response, disappearance, waiting rooms

[shiftthemoon]

THINGS YOUR DRS REMIND ME OF ✷ sunlight, or moonlight?

✺ TABLE OF CONTENTS :

harry potter dr. fantastic beasts dr. percy jackson dr. fame dr. mermaid dr. f1 driver dr. httyd dr. game of thrones dr. hunger games dr. marvel dr. spider-man + spiderverse dr. marauders era dr. arcane dr. vampire dr. pirate dr.

psssst!!! post's layout was ib hrrtshape!! my fav mootie ever,, ♡

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ harry potter dr.

your hogwarts reality feels like rainy afternoons, where clouds cling to the sky like an unspoken promise. it’s libraries that smell of leather and parchment, the kind where you breathe in and suddenly remember things you’ve never lived.

• it reminds me of the soft hum of the cranberries’ “dreams” or the low ache in radiohead’s “exit music (for a film).”

• it feels like the gothic spires of edinburgh, dark green scarves blowing in the wind, and the cold stone streets of york.

• movies like dead poets society and stardust carry the same weight, that blend of whimsy and melancholy, where magic isn’t just magic—it’s rebellion, it’s survival.

• this dr smells like earl grey tea, sharp with bergamot, and the flickering glow of a candle dripping wax onto an old oak desk. it’s virgo sun with scorpio moon energy: structured, mysterious, aching with purpose.

• autumn is your season—cool winds, warm fires, and leaves crackling underfoot.

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ fantastic beasts & where to find them dr.

this dr is gold filigree and vintage maps, the kind you get lost in, only to discover yourself in the borders. it’s the delicate art of understanding things bigger than you—creatures, love, alchemy.

• it’s the nostalgic drawl of jeff buckley’s “hallelujah” or fleetwood mac’s “the chain,” songs that sound like they were written by ancient souls.

• feels like london, fog rolling off the thames at dawn, or somewhere quieter, like oxford or canterbury, where history whispers to you in cobblestone cracks.

• watch the theory of everything or midnight in paris, for that subtle sense of chasing something you’ll never quite touch but will die trying to understand.

• it smells like leather gloves and ink-stained fingers. it feels like cancer venus — taurus mars — gemini mercury energy: tender, protective, but a little guarded.

• winter. always winter. the kind of cold that bites, but you endure it because it reminds you you’re alive.

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ percy jackson dr.

camp half-blood hums like cicadas at twilight, drenched in summer heat and the salt of the sea. it’s friendship forged in battle, love found between cracks in the earth.

• this dr is nirvana’s “come as you are” and smashing pumpkins’ “1979.” chaotic, nostalgic, but alive.

• it’s greece in all its ancient glory—the ruins of delphi, the waves crashing at the cliffs of santorini. but it’s also the rugged coastlines of california, where myths could hide in the spray of the pacific.

• the movies the perks of being a wallflower and the goonies echo this vibe: coming-of-age stories tied with adventure and heartache.

• it’s that faint copper smell of blood and the earthy scent of olive trees. sagittarius rising — aquarius mercury — aries mars energy: reckless, bold, chasing freedom with no map in hand.

• summer. long days, wild nights, golden sunsets.

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ fame dr.

this dr is glitter in your veins, like electricity is the only thing keeping you moving. it’s the hum of the spotlight, the chaos of dreams colliding with reality.

• this one is björk’s “human behaviour” and radiohead’s “high and dry.” a little experimental, a little tragic, but undeniably iconic.

• it’s new york city, obviously—broadway lights cutting through the smoke, or maybe los angeles, a city burning with ambition.

• black swan and whiplash—these movies carry the same brutal hunger, the obsession that eats you alive but makes it all worth it.

• it smells like sweat and perfume and cigarette smoke, all blending together under flashing lights. aries moon — leo sun — gemini venus energy: fiery, intense, unapologetically raw.

• spring—the season of beginnings, of things growing, of chasing what could be.

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ mermaid dr.

this dr feels like the ocean’s lullaby, where the waves carry secrets and the moon pulls your heart like a tide. it’s otherworldly and yet familiar, like a dream you wake up from, still tasting salt on your lips.

• it sounds like enya’s “sail away” or the cure’s “lullaby.” haunting, ethereal, but grounding.

• the turquoise waters of the maldives, or the dark, stormy coasts of cornwall, where cliffs meet an endless horizon.

• the shape of water and ponyo—love stories where the sea breathes life into forgotten places.

• it’s the smell of saltwater and seaweed, the sting of ocean spray against your cheeks. pisces sun & neptune — taurus moon energy: dreamy, fluid, a little lost but beautifully so.

• late summer, early autumn—those blurry in-between days when the air holds onto its warmth just a little longer.

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ f1 driver dr.

your f1 dr feels like adrenaline in your veins, the roar of engines, and the wind whipping against your face. it’s speed, competition, but also the camaraderie of shared obsession.

• it sounds like oasis’ “champagne supernova” and the killers’ “all these things that i’ve done.” songs that echo triumph, heartbreak, and everything in between.

• monaco glitters in this dr: yachts anchored in the harbor, the narrow streets drenched in sunlight. but it’s also the neon-soaked nights of singapore and the deserts of bahrain, where the air hums with tension.

• movies like rush and ford v ferrari capture the heart of this dr—rivalries, passion, and the pursuit of perfection.

• it smells like burnt rubber, sweat, and the metallic tang of engines. aries sun — capricorn mars — aquarius uranus energy: fiercely competitive, always chasing the next thrill.

• summer, specifically those late august days when the air is electric with possibility.

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ how to train your dragon dr.

your how to train your dragon dr is wind-tossed hair, wild laughter, and the freedom of flying. it’s the untamed beauty of a world that doesn’t quite exist but should.

• it’s muse’s “starlight” and florence + the machine’s “dog days are over.” songs that feel like they could lift you into the clouds.

• it smells like the briny ocean, dragon scales warmed by the sun, and the smoky scent of campfires.

• the cliffs and fjords of norway, the volcanic shores of iceland—this dr is rugged and alive, filled with places where magic hides in the landscape.

• movies like spirit: stallion of the cimarron and brave echo this vibe: freedom, connection, and the push against expectations.

• it feels like sagittarius moon & jupiter — aquarius moon energy: wild-hearted, always exploring, always yearning for more.

• spring, where the world blooms and feels untamed, uncharted, and full of life.

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ game of thrones dr.

your game of thrones dr is fire and ice, betrayal and loyalty, the sharp edge of power balanced with the fragility of hope. it’s a world where survival is its own form of poetry.

• it’s joy division’s “atmosphere” and led zeppelin’s “stairway to heaven.” haunting and raw, filled with the weight of kingdoms rising and falling.

• the ancient castles of scotland, the desolate beauty of the sahara, the twisting streets of dubrovnik—places where history feels alive, where whispers of power still linger.

• movies like gladiator and kingdom of heaven hold the same pulse: grand, epic, and dripping in drama.

• it smells like blood, snow, and the faint sweetness of wine. scorpio rising — capricorn mars & mercury energy: intense, strategic, magnetic, but dangerous if crossed.

• winter—long, harsh, and unforgiving, yet filled with moments of beauty that steal your breath.

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ hunger games dr.

your hunger games dr is survival carved into your bones, rebellion written in the ashes of the world. it’s the quiet rage of the oppressed turned into a wildfire.

• it’s nine inch nails’ “hurt” and linkin park’s “in the end.” desperate, raw, and relentless, but with a thread of hope.

• the forests of appalachia, the industrial grit of detroit, the sprawling deserts of utah—it’s a patchwork of places where survival feels elemental.

• movies like children of men and the road share this dr’s heart: bleak and brutal, but deeply human.

• it smells like damp earth, gunpowder, and the acrid scent of fire. capricorn mars — virgo venus — leo rising energy: unrelenting, ambitious, and forged in hardship.

• autumn, when the air turns cold, and the trees burn with color, reminding you that beauty exists even in endings.

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ marvel dr.

your marvel dr is the blur of action and humanity, larger-than-life stakes grounded in the intimacy of love, loss, and choice. it’s heroes who bleed and villains who cry.

• it’s u2’s “with or without you” and audioslave’s “like a stone.” powerful, aching, and utterly cinematic.

• new york city pulses through this dr: the skyline glowing at night, the chaos of people, the hidden corners where stories unfold.

• movies like the dark knight and logan carry the same weight: gritty, emotional, and built on moral gray areas.

• it smells like leather jackets, rain-slick streets, and the metallic tang of battle. aquarius sun — leo mars — gemini moon energy: visionary, a little distant, always fighting for the greater good.

• spring and fall—transitional seasons that feel like the calm before and after the storm.

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ spider-man + spiderverse dr.

your spiderverse dr feels like swinging between skyscrapers, the air electric with possibility and purpose. it’s chaos and connection, a kaleidoscope of choices and the weight of responsibility.

• it’s the strokes’ “reptilia” and gorillaz’s “feel good inc.”—gritty, pulsing, and full of edge.

• the streets of brooklyn, the neon haze of tokyo, or the rooftops of chicago, where the city is a character all its own.

• movies like blade runner 2049 and tron: legacy carry this vibe: sleek, emotional, and larger than life.

• it smells like rain on pavement, fresh paint on a graffiti wall, and the ozone tang of lightning. aquarius mercury — gemini mars — libra moon energy: inventive, unconventional, and sharp-witted.

• spring—when the world starts to bloom again, full of fresh starts and untold stories.

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ marauders era dr.

your marauders dr is all late-night laughter and whispered secrets, rebellion scrawled in ink and moonlight. it’s the ache of youth, of moments that feel infinite but are fleeting.

• it’s pink floyd’s “wish you were here” and fleetwood mac’s “rhiannon.” bittersweet, timeless, full of soul.

• feels like the hidden alleys of london, the rolling hills of wales, or the misty forests of the scottish highlands.

• movies like the breakfast club and dead poets society carry this dr’s energy—complicated friendships, rebellion, and nostalgia for a time that might not have been perfect but was yours.

• it smells like old books, cigarette smoke, and the faint sweetness of butterbeer. libra moon — cancer sun — pisces venus energy: romantic, thoughtful, and deeply tied to relationships.

• autumn, when the world feels crisp, nostalgic, and alive with change.

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ arcane dr.

your arcane dr is a masterpiece of contradictions—gritty streets juxtaposed with glittering innovation. it’s a world of broken dreams and endless ambition.

• it’s placebo’s “every you every me” and radiohead’s “no surprises.” raw, haunting, and brimming with unspoken emotion.

• zaun is the heart of this dr: neon lights cutting through the smoke, the underbelly of progress. piltover looms above, all gold and power.

• movies like v for vendetta and ghost in the shell share this vibe: revolutionary, futuristic, and deeply human.

• it smells like oil, soot, and metallic sparks. pluto & mars in aquarius — scorpio moon energy: transformative, innovative, and unapologetically intense.

• winter—the cold amplifies the tension, the longing for warmth, the fight for survival.

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ vampire dr.

your vampire dr is velvet and shadows, the allure of eternity balanced with the weight of it. it’s beauty that bites, darkness that whispers, and immortality that aches.

• it’s bauhaus’ “bela lugosi’s dead” and depeche mode’s “enjoy the silence.” moody, sensual, and timeless.

• feels like prague at midnight, the foggy streets of victorian london, or the endless forests of transylvania.

• movies like interview with the vampire and crimson peak embody this dr—hauntingly beautiful, filled with danger and longing.

• it smells like old wine, wax-dripping candles, and the iron tang of blood. scorpio sun — libra venus — pisces mercury energy: intense, magnetic, and deeply tied to the unseen.

• late autumn, when the world is cold and still, and the nights stretch on forever.

⊹₊ ✰ ⋆ NOW READING ┋ pirate dr.

your pirate dr is salt spray in your hair, the endless expanse of the horizon, and the reckless freedom of a life untethered. it’s treasure maps and tempestuous seas, loyalty forged in fire.

• it’s the rolling stones’ “paint it black” and led zeppelin’s “immigrant song.” wild, untamed, and unapologetic.

• the caribbean islands, the rocky cliffs of ireland, or the misty coasts of the azores—where the ocean feels infinite and alive.

• movies like pirates of the caribbean: the curse of the black pearl and master and commander echo this dr: swashbuckling adventure, grit, and loyalty.

• it smells like saltwater, rum, and the wood of a well-worn ship. sagittarius mars — pisces rising — aries sun energy: adventurous, daring, and always chasing the next horizon.

• summer, especially in the golden haze of dusk, when the ocean glows like molten gold.

[sovietpostcards]

What are your favorite cities that you've traveled to?

St Peterbsurg hands down. Other than that, I really like Sochi (sea, mountains, Soviet-era neoclassical architecture), Samara (wide river Volga, an endless beach line, Art Nouveau architecture and so much history), Vyborg (European vibes, Northern nature, and the Alvar Aalto library). There's still a lot I haven't seen in Russia!

Some small towns I thoroughly enjoyed are Kolomna, Suzdal and Izborsk.

Kolomna is in Moscow oblast, lots of tourists these days. There's an ancient Kremlin and lots of small museums and shops and cafes. It had one of the nicest cafes I've ever visited, there are small tables scattered across the farden. I sat under a blossoming apple tree and had tea out of a porcelain cup. It was divine.

Suzdal is in Vladimir oblast, part of the Golden Ring. It's like you're back in the 15th century or something. There's nothing higher than 2 floors. There are dozens of churches. I was there a number of years ago, we rented a real wooden house. Our host supplied bliny for breakfast every day, and fresh crunchy cucumbers were in unlimited supply.

Izborsk is in Pskov oblast near the Estonian border. It has ruins of a 14th century stone fortress and some even earlier remains (dating back to the 7th century). (SEVENTH.) It also has many lovely museums and shops and cafes—all things that I love. :D

I want to explore more of those, I love the feeling that you went back in history!

[m1d-45]

the eye of the beholder

summary: shields were a vital part of any combat. you knew, of course, that your lover was capable of summoning one with his vision, but you’ve never been on the receiving end of it…

word count: 1.5k

-> warnings: nope :] petname "my dear" is used towards reader once

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @arienic || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

liyue was well guarded. millelith studded the streets of the harbor like jewels across rings, well averting most thieves or would be criminals. it was hard not to feel safe when walking along any street, with the rare exception of some of the further-out docks. even then, you’ve never really had reason to worry; in part, of course, due to the company you kept close.

zhongli was… eccentric, to put it kindly. he dressed in thick, heavy suits even through the most unbearable summers, he bought any manner of strange stones or old strains of tea just to take pride in spending fatui money (how he got away with this, you didn’t know), and he made a habit of seeking out every historian in the harbor just to prod at them with his knowledge of history. he gave no clear reason for any of these things, chalking it up to “personal preference,” “it’s not like they’d miss the money,” and “simply seeking knowledge” respectively.

you knew this, and you loved him for it. every time you went to his house, he had some new trinket or teacup lining his shelves. he was a collector, mainly of amusement and knowledge, and often brought you along on his adventures. he brought you everywhere: to the higher end of feiyun slope, where just a single stone cost more than your house, to the deep edges of the lower harbor, the air thick with humidity as he pointed out the various streaks of wear on the cliffsides. to dunyu ruins, because he heard a rumor not of ancient treasure or unimaginable glory, but of a geoculus.

geoculi were as common as the birds in the sky, with very few adventurers having the time or skill to move them. deceptively heavy, rooted in place by binds of geo energy, and those that did manage to haul them to a statue of the seven were rewarded with barely a glimmer in the wind. despite their legends, oculi were common across every nation, and were only about as interesting as a strange bird to most of the public.

naturally, your partner had reportedly been trying to acquire one for months now. why? for fun, it seemed. and so you set out beside him, past bubu pharmacy and out into the plains.

aside from settlements, liyue was mostly wild land. tianqiu valley was overrun with treasure hoarders, cuijue slope covered in geo elementals and ruin machines. and yet, despite going out on similar trips with zhongli several dozen times before, the worst injury you’ve had is a minor scrape from tripping over a tree root when he wasn’t looking. he was quick with his spear and fine with his words, not to mention that most of the various gangs and thieves knew his name well by now. if you didn’t know better, he’d almost look like an easy mark: a well-dressed man with a slow tone and silk gloves, like he wasn’t in the think of jueyun karste searching for ore.

they learned quick. you’ve fully seen a fatui member stop and walk the other way mid-patrol when he walked by, which while strange was perfectly fine by you. no conflict, no need for worry, just him and whatever sight he felt like showing you that day.

today, you approached a wide, open basin set into the earth. one half was covered in ruined stone and overgrown vegetation, only broken by pins of red torchlight. within, two massive statues guarded the entrance to yet more ruined buildings, the half-crumbled body of another laying not too far away. in the center of it all was a pool of water with a stone pedestal in the center, holding a rusted chest. far above that, however, was your beloved’s target: a shimmering geoculus, spinning lazily in the air.

how were you going to get it? no idea. how were you going to get down there in the first place? not a clue. what was the pale dome around it and the pond? you had to stop asking questions you didn’t have the answer to.

zhongli hummed, satisfied, his shoulders shifting back a bit in pride. he took your hand in his, leading you closer with a whisper to “watch your step, my dear.”

he found a path like it had personally called his name, the one corner of the sheer stone that had walkable ground. tucked between the cliff face and a wall of the ruin, he went down first, leading you down after, never letting you fall. he never once slipped, as if his boots had spikes that drilled into the earth and weren’t high end dress shoes. the perks of a geo vision, you supposed…

the path was steep and your hands were admittedly unsteady by the end of it, but before you knew it you were standing on solid ground. his arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you toward him, a soft kiss pressed to your cheek as a quiet reward for your tenacity.

the geoculus was hidden within a strange dome of anemo, three oddly-carved pillars spaced around it. near one of them was a floating wisp over a mossy stone, which flew to the pillar with the sound of faint bells when touched.

“an unfinished seelie court,” zhongli mused, looking around the basin. one half was overgrown with vines hanging down from the upper level, and the other was blocked by a gate with some sort of puzzle waiting to be solved.

naturally, he turned to the mess of vines, holding out his hand for you again.

“stay close. we don’t know what might be inside.”

you do, following as he cut down the foliage, listening over the sound of your breath for the seelie’s chimes. the walls were covered in greenery, but where they parted were intricate geometric patterns, sharp spirals cut into the stone. the air was cool, the stone quiet, moss cushioning your steps. if you were being honest, you thought zhongli was being a bit overcautious; but liyuen ruins were more challenging on the mind than the body. you were more likely to find a seelie than an arrow in your shoulder… though you’d be lying if it wasn’t endearing every time. who wouldn’t feel special, with such a pretty man so concerned for their safety?

you didn’t think much of your surroundings when the room opened up, still searching for the seelie that seemed to be nowhere. but you heard no bells, no chimes, just your shoes on the floor and the clank of heavy gears from high above.

fine. so maybe he had a point about danger this time. broken clocks and all that.

your eyes tracked the sound to the ceiling, not minding the arm the stretched in front of you. whatever was moving, it sounded heavy, old, rusted metal falling through the gaps in the stone beams. the heap pushed itself up only unsteady feet, studded with gears in indecipherable script. it was easily twice as tall as you were, if not taller, and you suddenly understood every precaution he’d given you about the dangers faced in the plains.

your fear didn’t get the chance to set. the floor glowed as geo condensed, the sharp snap of zhongli’s arms pulling a stele from the earth, directly between you and the machine. in an instant, pure geo energy coalesced around you, a paper-thin layer of shining gold that you felt more than saw.

you were not one for combat. you were not a vision wielder, not an adventurer, not a pirate or guard or anything of the sort. you had never once been with zhongli in a fight, and though you were grateful for that…

time had slowed to nothing. all you could see was the gentle shield wrapped around you, an almost physical pressure that settled into your mind like water soaking into sand. assuredness, confidence, security kept tight around you as the shield shined. you felt safe, a bone-deep sanctuary that made it a little hard to breathe, if only from surprise.

it made sense, somewhat, that shields would protect the mind as well as the body. you lifted a hand, pressing it against the delicate film, resonance buzzing where you touched.

the earth shook beneath your feet, pulling you from your thoughts. just as you moved to step out from behind the stele, zhongli returned, eyes scanning over you for harm before sweeping you close to his chest. he held you tight, warm and protective and between him and the shield you felt as if you could cry. indemnity flowed in your veins, the world falling away, the weighted air keeping you grounded.

“let’s go home, darling.”

you blinked, pulling yourself out of the deep warmth of the jade shield. “what about your oculus?”

“i can fetch it another time.” he pulled away just enough to kiss your temple, keeping his arm around your waist as he led you out of the ruins. “your safety matters more to me than any gem.”

the shield didn’t last you saw the sun, but the sense of shelter long persisted.