#this year's fauna was really really good

[parameciam]

can't believe that i saw them live past saturday! it was insanely good (and i thought i was going to be crushed, several times, but no xd)

also can't believe this album is from 2004 D':

opening with this song was an excellent decision. ahh the whole setlist was amazing and fun! and in an unexpected turn of events i was able to see instead of being subjected to my usual curse (having someone stupidly tall in front of me XD) and even got really close to the stage :3c

the stage had excellent sound quality too, i was surprised for once. i hope next year's festival gets even better :D

[faunandfloraas]

You make me want to listen to FNF every time but I hate that song it makes me SO sad

someones not catching uuuuuuh uhhhhh uhhhh upppppppp

[headspace-hotel]

There was this post a while ago where somebody was saying that Cheetahs aren't well suited to Africa and would do well in Midwestern North America, and it reminded me of Paul S. Martin, the guy I'm always pissed off about.

He had some good ideas, but he is most importantly responsible for the overkill hypothesis (idea that humans caused the end-Pleistocene extinctions and that climate was minimally a factor) which led to the idea of Pleistocene rewilding.

...Basically this guy thought we should introduce lions, cheetahs, camels, and other animals to North America to "rewild" the landscape to what it was like pre-human habitation, and was a major advocate for re-creating mammoths.

Why am I pissed off about him? Well he denied that there were humans in North America prior to the Clovis culture, which it's pretty well established now that there were pre-Clovis inhabitants, and in general promoted the idea that the earliest inhabitants of North America exterminated the ecosystem through destructive and greedy practices...

...which has become "common knowledge" and used as evidence for anyone who wants to argue that Native Americans are "Not So Innocent, Actually" and the mass slaughter and ecosystem devastation caused by colonialism was just what humans naturally do when encountering a new environment, instead of a genocidal campaign to destroy pre-existing ways of life and brutally exploit the resources of the land.

It basically gives the impression that the exploitative and destructive relationship to land is "human nature" and normal, which erases every culture that defies this characterization, and also erases the way indigenous people are important to ecosystems, and promotes the idea of "empty" human-less ecosystems as the natural "wild" state.

And also Martin viewed the Americas' fauna as essentially impoverished, broken and incomplete, compared with Africa which has much more species of large mammals, which is glossing over the uniqueness of North American ecosystems and the uniqueness of each species, such as how important keystone species like bison and wolves are.

It's also ignoring the taxa and biomes that ARE extraordinarily diverse in North America, for example the Appalachian Mountains are one of the most biodiverse temperate forests on Earth, the Southeastern United States has the Earth's most biodiverse freshwater ecosystems, and both of these areas are also a major global hotspot for amphibian biodiversity and lichen biodiversity. Large mammals aren't automatically the most important. With South America, well...the Amazon Rainforest, the Brazilian Cerrado and the Pantanal wetlands are basically THE biodiversity hotspot of EVERYTHING excepting large mammals.

It's not HIM I have a problem with per se. It's the way his ideas have become so widely distributed in pop culture and given people a muddled and warped idea of ecology.

If people think North America was essentially a broken ecosystem missing tons of key animals 500 years ago, they won't recognize how harmful colonization was to the ecosystem or the importance of fixing the harm. Who cares if bison are a keystone species, North America won't be "fixed" until we bring back camels and cheetahs...right?

And by the way, there never were "cheetahs" in North America, Miracinonyx was a different genus and was more similar to cougars than cheetahs, and didn't have the hunting strategy of cheetahs, so putting African cheetahs in North America wouldn't "rewild" anything.

Also people think its a good idea to bring back mammoths, which is...no. First of all, it wouldn't be "bringing back mammoths," it would be genetically engineering extant elephants to express some mammoth genes that code for key traits, and second of all, the ecosystem that contained them doesn't exist anymore, and ultimately it would be really cruel to do this with an intelligent, social animal. The technology that would be used for this is much better used to "bring back" genetic diversity that has been lost from extant critically endangered species.

I think mustangs should get to stay in North America, they're already here and they are very culturally important to indigenous groups. And I think it's pretty rad that Scimitar-horned Oryx were brought back in their native habitat only because there was a population of them in Texas. But we desperately, DESPERATELY need to re-wild bison, wolves, elk, and cougars across most of their former range before we can think about introducing camels.

[ihavetoomanyocsdealwithit]

Yuu has the audacity to ask a question. It leads to some interesting moments  

Jade Leech, Rook Hunt, Vil Schoenheit, Floyd Leech

Jade Leech 

“Jade, can I ask you a question?” It’s not often that the library is so packed that you end up sharing a table but if it had to be with anybody, at least it was Jade.  

Jade wasn’t naturally academically smart. He took a lot of notes and studied in order to come out in the middle. There were folks that thought he was simply keeping his head down, but Yuu found out by accident. She knew Jade was incredibly street smart and people savvy though, no matter what grades he got. It worked in her favor though, as Jade let them copy notes from last year in exchange for not sharing the information anywhere. Not that Yuu planned too, but they weren’t going to pass up such an opportunity either.  

“Of course, I will assist in anyway I can.”  

“Do you have any books that you would recommend for scavenging for local flora and fauna in the woods back at Ramshackle? I’ve tried searching through the library but it’s a bit too vague for what I need.”

If Yuu had blinked, they would have missed the brief surprise and delight on his face.  

“Well,” he sets his pen down, “As the president of the Mountain Lovers club, I’m sure we could discuss that during our meetings. If only you were a member.” he sighed  

“If only Crowley would allow me to join any clubs.” Yuu muttered, “I know it's a requirement for first and second years to be involved in at least one, but he says I have far more to offer as his unofficial assistant. Unpaid is more accurate but what do I know.”  

Jade smiles, the one that matches his brothers. Wide and full of teeth.  

“Leave Crowley to me, dear Prefect. You just meet me in the morning behind Ramshackle. Bring a basket and your camera, oh, and dress warm. It'll be cold for you.”  

He writes some extra instructions on a slip of paper and collects his things, turning left at the library doors. Damn, that was straight to the headmasters’ office too. Jade really doesn't play around when it comes to the Mountain Lover's club.

While Yuu isn’t able to attend every meeting, the Mountain Lover’s club apparently includes trips to other countries, recipes cooked in the Ramshackle kitchen as well as appreciating cultures and crafts made by various peoples which slowly starts to decorate the rickety dorm into something interesting and unique. Jade becomes a different person as a traveler and seems to find joy in just exploring and discovering all the different ways that people create and eat and live.  

After he graduates, Yuu gifts him the book that the two of them created, with pictures and descriptions of all the Night Raven College fauna and flora, their uses, if they are edible, and different recipe and potion ingredients, the regions it comes from, and even snippets of stories and memories they share.  

Jade is not an emotional man, but when he asks you to come with him on his next expedition, his smile is full of joy.  

Rook Hunt

“Rook, can I ask you a question?”  

Rook looks down from his spot in the tree, a camera perched in his hands. “Amazing eyesight, Mon Trickster! I did not anticipate being found. Ask away, but be quick, less Roi de Lion suspects me.”  

“Are there any plays or poetry books that would be good for a beginner? I read a lot back home but I know there is cultural and historical context I'm going to be missing-” 

“I am so happy!” he practically drops the tree, taking both of her hands to kiss the knuckles, “I would be happy to help you. Come, come!”  

Oh, they are going to the library now. Right now. Ok, Yuu should have expected that.  

Rook is always excitable, but he’s mindful as well. Picking out smaller volumes at first, and adding some reference materials, putting a few back as he asks questions about what she has already read or what she typically enjoys. He also writes out a list for audio books and radio performances. Thank the Seven that Crowley finally got them a phone and they could excuse the data usage for school.  

“I have the films I would be willing to lend, but I would ask you be incredibly careful.”  

“Oh, I don’t have a TV or any type of DVD player at Ramshackle. We try and keep the places as authentic as possible. It helps when the ghosts come to visit on Hallow’s eve.” They don’t have wifi either and their electricity runs off a backup generator, but Yuu doesn’t mention that. They are distinctly aware of how rundown Ramshackle is, but they try not to advertise how badly.  

“What dedication you have to your dorm and the history of Night Raven College. We may do so in Pomefiore!”  

And that’s how they end up having movie night basically every Wednesday night, sometimes with other Pomefiore members or even Vil himself refreshing on the classics. Rook would sit close by, quietly explaining certain contexts and even joining Yuu on reading through some of the poetry books. His passion comes out more with his knowledge than his speech in those moments, and it’s...nice. Normally Rook is the most reserved person she knows. He’s family is still a mystery, but she’s learned more about his beliefs and insights into how he perceives life in general. 

“This is how I met Roi de Poison, you know. He enchanted me at first sight, but his mind...he understood my passion for theater, music and beauty. He respected me, once I proved that I loved him for more than his looks and roles.”  

Crazy fan he might have been in the past, it was definitely more of an equal relationship once you saw past the surface level. Yuu eventually started picking a few habits and fashion tips, slowly becoming a bit more refined. Elegant even, she might say.  

When she hesitantly asks for help with other things, it's easier each time. Help with skincare routines, or experimenting with make-up, what colors work best and how silhouettes come across. It’s never been this fun to experiment with her style. It helps that Rook, while thinking certain things definitely work, will be gentle in the things that aren’t.  

“They do not enhance your beauty,” he says, sounding like Vil, “And you are already magnifique.”  

He is the first person that she shares her book of stories with, the precognitions that she has  

“Do you think fairy tales are fiction?” He asks her, quietly skimming over the passages of Snow White. The Fairest Queen is barely mentioned, but without her, there is no story.  

“Living here feels like a fairy tale, but if it is, you’ve made it a wonderful dream.”  

Rook looks at her, a surprised chuckle slipping out. Before he can hide it, his nose crinkles, a smile wide enough to show his gums, and Yuu thinks it enhances all the best of him.  

Vil Schoenheit 

“Vil, may I ask you a question?” 

“At least somebody paid attention when I went over manners. You may.” Vil says, as he adds in some sort of lilac powder. Normally, they wouldn’t have any classes together, but with Yuu acting as an ‘assistant’ towards the teachers to make extra cash, they got to see the second and third years more than even the other first years in their dorms.  

“How do you make time for it all? Between the acting jobs, getting good grades in school, indulging in potionology and homebrew makeup in your limited free time, it seems like you get so much done with just as much time as the rest of us.”  

“Thank you for noticing.” Vil says, looking up from his potion work. “And yes, I do keep a very organized schedule. Every minute is planned and my down time is spent decompressing efficiently.”  

“Is there any articles or techniques you would recommend? Or a template you used?” 

“You could just ask me for help, you know.” he retorts, huffing a bit.  

“I know I could, but I also want to be respectful of what you have on your plate.”  

“Ah, potato...I have plenty of time, especially in this season. I don’t schedule anything this close to finals. Come sit with me this evening for dinner and we will talk goals and progress markers. There is more to this mentally than most people think.”  

Vil is a bit less than impressed when he sees just how much Yuu accomplishes for Night Raven College with no credit and makes a note to talk to the teachers and Crowley about getting her properly compensated or at least. But overall, it goes well, making time for exercise, hobbies, studies and even some time with him. Telling her about the techniques he used and actually practicing them were two different things, and some things are just easier to show rather than tell.  

“Alright, let’s start here.”  

Mindfulness, ironically for somebody outside Scarabina, is important to Vil. Sinking fully into the experience of his daily life, looking at all the colors, enjoying his foods with no screens, or just enjoying the quiet while he removes makeup. His decompress is like a valve that he releases in minutes throughout the day, not hours at the end of it.

“This takes practice. Don’t discourage yourself if you don’t get it every time, eventually it will come more naturally.”  

And it does. Over the months, Yuu feels more productive than ever, even finding time to wonder about her own style. It is a bit embarrassing when Vil enters Ramshackle to use the Guest Room to study and sees her hastily trying to wash off eyeshadow. 

“Oh, spudling, not your color. No, no, here.” He sits, and teaches, a bit harshly at times, but he wouldn’t be Vil if he wasn’t direct. Much like Riddle, he fully believes that people can reach his level, and sees no reason why they shouldn’t. And while Yuu will never be Vil pretty, she certainly feels more beautiful and confident now than she ever has before.  

It isn’t until Vil is reviewing one of his performances that Yuu makes a comment, some offhand remark about the script not quite matching the vernacular expected for the period, that he invites her to sit and review more.  

Yuu doesn’t think it’s anything spectular, it’s kind of obvious, but apparently it wasn’t to the rest of the audience.  

Vil sits at thier usual tea table in the Night Raven Gardens, and slides a ticket over to her.  

“If you have time. I know you recently picked up a few photography jobs in town that would be a shame to miss. Rapport with clients is key, you know.”  

It’s the red-carpet event to a 5th year anniversary movie he did as a child. All glitz and glam, showing just how much they have grown as actors and people since their debuts. It’s a milestone even for Vil, the first and only role where he was played a supporting role that wasn’t a villain or antagonist.  

“What colors are you wearing? I might have something that compliments.” Yuu asks, already going through their mind for anything suitable in Ramshackle.  

“Well,” Vil preens, opening his laptop. “We will just have to buy something together to ensure we match, won’t we? When are you free?” 

It’s so small Yuu almost misses it, but hidden underneath his painted blush is a heated blush, quiet and pink and delighted.  

Floyd Leech

“Floyd, can I ask you a question?”   

Floyd doesn’t even bother looking up from his spot at the table, “Better not be a boring question Shrimpy, or I’ll squeeze ya~” 

“Where do you go to get your shoes repaired?”  

His head snaps up just a bit, left eye brighter than usual.  

“Ace had mentioned that your sole had torn during practice,” Yuu continues, feeling like they have to explain themselves with how intensely he was staring, “But the next day it had been stitched back on like new. There are some fantastic leather boots from the old NRC uniforms that I'd love to use, but I’m trying to find somebody who won’t butcher them or tell me they aren’t repairable just cause there old or out of style, you know?”  

Floyd nods, eyes still searching before ultimately just shrugging his shoulders. “Hmmm...at least it wasn’t boring. Meet at Monstro Lounge at 6 lil’ Shrimpy, bring the shoes!”  

He walks away before Yuu can even say that they have to meet with somebody else, but that really isn’t a possibility when a Leech brother has demanded your attention. Looks like you’ll have to reschedule with Deuce.  

The Monstro Lounge is fairly steady, though Yuu has never seen it slow. Always some sort of deal or exclusive that sets these rich bastards running through the doors, even if it’s just so they don’t have to deal with the lines in the cafeteria or cook their own food.  

Jade waves you in, taking the box from your hands in a gentlemanly manner, and leading you to the side. Floyd is quick to intercept, mumbling a thank you before his long strides leave you almost jogging.  

“Alright, let’s see what we are working with.”  

The dorm is clearly shared between him and Jade. Crisp white walls, a seashell and sea motif on the desk and headboard and some floating shelves that look vaguely like drift wood, exactly what she expected from Octanvinelle. But that’s about all the two sides have in common. Jade’s is organized, of course, but notable is the terrariums on the shelves and a stack of geology books tucked into the corner, along with photos of places he may have been or plans to go.

Floyd’s half is a mess, yes, but it’s organized chaos, like looking at Ace and Deuce’s dorm. High protein snacks are tucked on the shelves, completed 3D puzzles, and...fashion magazines? Huh, he did say that merpeople didn’t really have a reason to wear clothes so land peoples being so obsessed with it would be interesting, especially in different regions or cultures. And the trends are constantly changing. It actually started fitting, the more Yuu thought about it.  

Floyd set the box on the desk, picking up the shoes and bending them this way and that, pressing on the heel or pinches the toe.  

“You’ve taken good care of them,” He says, “The stitches are loose and the nails need to be hammered back in, but the leather is clean and strong. I’d get some new leather laces though, the wax on these has completely frayed from misuse. How old are these?”  

“They're from back when Ezra and the others went to school, but they don’t have a great concept of time.” Floyd raises an eyebrow. “Oh, the ghosts at Ramshackle.”  

“Huh, no wonder it felt like the place was trying to kick us out.” Floyd walks over to the walk-in closet and Yuu has to double take. She would have mistaken the closet for Jade’s! On the left, the clothes are hung neatly on the rack except for the everyday items like the basketball or school uniform which have their own spots hung neatly on the door itself. Below that are clear boxes that seem to hold all sort of tools. Are these hobbies that Floyd has picked up and gotten bored with?

But the right side of the walk in closet is just racks and racks of shoes. Wing tip dress, loafers, even a few kitten heels and red backed stiletos. All perfectly shined and displayed.  

“Floyd, you repair your own shoes?” Yuu taking the box he hands her.

“When you are as tall as me and Jade, you end up having to customize and fix a lot of your own clothes, unless you wanna pay some stupid prices, and standing there while they pin and stuff is boring. I’d rather just do it myself.” He takes out a wicked looking needle and a stand, securing it to the desk with a flick of a lever. “Which pair is your size?”  

“Oh, these.” she says, picking up a pair of loafers and ankle boots. “I can’t afford for you to do this for me Floyd. I don’t have the funds right now.” 

He just leans against the table with a laugh, “Oh, I aint doin’ it for free. Your gonna pay me by letting me keep a pair, specifically those.”

He points to the bottom of the box, a pair of thigh high riding boots from what she can tell.  

“Those are the ones in the worst shape?”  

“Oh, I won’t be able to get them to their original form, but I can lengthen the sole and toe area a bit, add a heel, and have a wicked pair of thighs high stilettos that’ll have even Betta fish jealous~” 

“With your legs, you’d look really good in a skirt.”  

They both blink.  

“Shit, sorry, my mouth ran-” Floyd laughs, something softer than usual.  

“Your damn right Shrimpy.” He smiles, “I do look damn good in a skirt. I prefer dresses though.”  

He takes a seat, motioning for her to take the other side, sets the shoe inside the stand, and starts explaining the process. It doesn’t always make sense but he’s clearly passionate about it.  

This might be a truer version of him, Yuu thinks, seeing him carefully take out a rusted nail to pull out a fresh silver one from an even smaller box. One that isn’t bored or moody, but just...getting able to do something that actually interests him.  

“Hey Floyd. Do you want to go thrifting with me and Kalim on Sunday? I think you’d have some interesting things to say about some of the finds, especially the clothes mart. They literally have a bin of vintage pieces for a dollar a piece.”  

He leans back, and does that smile again. All teeth but his eyes relax, all boyishly charming.  

“You got all the audacity in the world, don’t you?” He chuckles, “I’ll get my shift covered.”  

[bisexualoftheopera]

Twisted Wonderland Love Languages

Heartslabyul

Riddle: words of affirmation (his mother was not good for his self esteem and he often doubts himself)

Trey: quality time (sit by him as he bakes, keep him company. He's a simple man)

Cater: words of affirmation (he's depressed, we all know it. Reassurance that you love the real Cater and not just Cay-Cay is greatly appreciated)

Ace: physical touch (he likes holding you, not much to say)

Deuce: gift giving (he might not have a lot of money but he crafts the loveliest little things for you. He tries his best to get the little details right and make it pretty but sometimes he gets frustrated. He tries his best)

Savanaclaw

Leona: all of them (he's used to being second fiddle, the second born, all that. Show him you love him, constant sleeping and all, by doin this for him. Tell him you love how determined he is, tell him he's smart. Maybe play chess with him, give him cuddles, redo his braids when they come loose)

Jack: physical touch (wolf boy needs to be touching you, he doesn't know why. His tail wags when he does too, he's ashamed but as much as he pretends to grumble, he won't stop touching you)

Ruggie: words of affirmation (reassurance that he isn't just a sneaky thief with sticky fingers, that you actually trust him. He love) gift giving (he doesn't have much and sometimes he thinks he likely never will. Little homemade gifts always make his heart soar, you actually put time and effort into the thing for him? He love so much)

Octavinelle

Azul: physical touch (as shy as he is, he loves being held) words of affirmation (body issues from his past still creep up so a little reassurance is nice)

Jade: quality time (he likes going hiking with you, pointing out different fauna. Be there, show interest, the eel relishes in it)

Floyd: physical touch (he squeeze. He love when shrimpy squeeze back)

Scarabia

Kalim: physical touch (baby loves being held, he loves it so much) quality time (given his large amount of siblings he doesn't really get alone time so he'd love to spend some time just the two of you)

Jamil: words of affirmation (poor baby is full of doubt because he was always in Kalim's shadow) acts of service (he's used to taking care of Kalim and serving others so he'd love it if someone would take care of him for once)

Pomefiore

Vil: words of affirmation (yes, he knows he's beautiful, he knows he's awesome and all that. But being typecast as a villain all the time gets a man down, even him)

Rook: physical touch (if he could envelop you constantly, he would. Only thing stopping him for now is classes and Vil)

Epel: gift giving (farmboy works with his hands a lot, he likes crafting and giving you what he's made. Make sure you keep them all)

Igenhyde

Idia: words of affirmation (poor fire boy is shy and always feel crappy, reassure the man) acts of service (maybe you entered a draw to try and win one of his favorite game related things, maybe you brought him a snack while he grinds levels. Show him you care)

Ortho (platonic): quality time (he likes spending time with the people he loves and he loves you like you're part of his family)

Diasomnia

Malleus: all of them (good luck because this pouty dragon will definitely be showing you so much love in so many ways and he wants it shown in so many ways too)

Lilia: quality time (he doesn't have much time left by fae standards (maybe 100? 200? years) it's a pity he only met you now. He definitely loves spending time with you and won't hesitate to take any opportunity presented)

Silver: quality time (he spends most of his time falling asleep which isn't ideal for dates and such but he's trying so hard to stay awake for you. Make sure he knows that being in the same room is still quality time)

Sebek: gift giving (fae express their love this way, of course he'd do the same. He's fae! What did you expect from him, human?) words of affirmation (he's insecure about being half human. He isn't as strong, he won't live as long, he gets judged by other fae for being half human. He's not human enough for the humans and not fae enough for the fae. Reassurance (word of the post) is key)

[fever-fluff]

Take my Hand

Synopsis: Azriel really wants to hold your hand, but he's afraid that he'll hold it too tight.

(I've been obsessed with writing something that focuses on Azriel's hands. Because of how it was too late to save his hands when his brother's burned him, I'm wondeirng if he ever had to relearn things when they finally healed himself.)

Word Count: 2k(Not Proof Read)

Sometimes he had wished he had burned in the blaze of heat centuries ago, that the months of relearning how to make a fist with his fingers and then splay them wide again hadn’t tunnelled itself so far into his memory that he could still feel the anger, pain and frustration of not being able to do what infants could. But the years had rolled on, one into another and even with all the Illyrian healing in the world, Azriel would never be able to go back to a time where his hands were just… hands.

He was supposed to meet you today, outside the little bookstore you and Nesta frequented so many times you knew it better than your own rooms. That was an hour ago. But the pains that sparked from his fingers up through his arm had left him twitching so uncontrollably that he couldn’t even lift the cup from its saucer this morning without the tea sloshing over the sides.

He could hear Madja’s hum of disaproval in the back of his mind as he changed his hands from the almost boiling water in one bowl to the icy cold in another. He’d been slacking on the regiments she’d given him all those years ago. With the dexterity he needed to wield his blades, Azriel was supposed to vigilantly keep up with the hot and cold baths and rigorous stretches and ointments so he wouldn’t lose their complete cooperation, but in the past few months he’d avoided them to no end.

If he were being honest with himself, it had started much earlier than that. Seeing so many round him now that didn’t fail in menial bodily functions had left him feeling lesser than, so he’d reduced his routine week by week, then day by day, until he’d relied solely on what his body could do to stop his hands seizing up. What an idiot he was.

The twitching had finally ceased, but his hands had locked into a half-made fist and he grunted with frustration, asking the house to send a bowl of melted wax so he could attempt to bend his fingers back to where they should be.

Submerging one, he began to think of you. Had you left? Or were you still standing outside the sage green door with the potted plants littering the entrance, wondering if he’d stood you up? It had been too long for you to think he was running late, and he cursed himself to Hel.

He’d imagined your first outing over and over again since you’d said yes a week ago. How he’d fly down to you, no Illyrian leather in sight, instead complimenting your dress his shadows had described perfectly with the slacks and shirt he’d chosen after tearing at his hair all morning. He wouldn’t bring any flowers, remembering your distaste for uprooting harmless fauna and instead he’d offer you something hot to drink to keep you warm in the crisp air of the afternoon. You’d smile and thank him, asking if he was ready to go inside and he’d grab you hand, giving it a kiss as he hummed his yes. He wouldn’t let it go the entire time you scanned the bookshelves. Until you’d finally begin choosing your reads for the coming days and he’d offer to carry them for you, holding them securely imaging it was you instead. Once you were finished, he’d hold the bag of books in one hand, while reaching with his other and lacing your fingers together. The day would carry on much the same, and his hands would always be there, either at your waist or your own, always making sure you were still by his side – that he was not imagining any of it.

But that’s all it was in the end – his imagination. His hands were no good for soft touches. He was always grabbing things too lightly or too tight, never just right. They showed him for the brute he was, that he was not meant for delicate things like you.

Slowly bending the first of his fingers back, Azriel heard the slightest rap of knuckles on his door, and he announced himself before he even thought to check who it was. But the soft footsteps he had become so used to picking out over the rest of his loud family had his head snapping up to face the opened door and see you, a small smile on your face with sad eyes. “Is this a bad time?”

His wing barely missed tipping the bowl of wax on the floor as he spun to face you, hiding it and his once again shaking hands behind his back as he called your name in surprise. Shadows flitted around him, making for your figure in the door and swirling at your feet. Their movements displaced the fabric of your dress, the skirt of it flowing with the black tide. You looked so much more than beautiful, blowing whatever his imagination had conjured up earlier out through the open window. All Azriel could find himself thinking of was how soft you looked when you filled the stretching silence once again with your voice. “I was worried. You didn’t show and I thought Rhys might have called you away. But when he said he hadn’t seen you since breakfast, well… I really didn’t know what to think.”

“I -” Gods, why did his own words have to fail him now? “I have no excuse for leaving you to wait. I’m sorry.”

You nodded, “Apology accepted. But Az, if you didn’t want to join me this morning, you could’ve told me. I didn’t want to make you feel like you had no choice but to hide away in you ro-”

“I wasn’t hiding! I – I wanted to come, truly, I just…” Azriel sighed as he placed his hands back in front of him, the shaking and curling fingers on full display in front of you. “I’ve tried everything, but none of it’s working. I just, I wanted today to be perfect, but I should’ve known it would be me that ruined it.”

There was no gasp of surprise as he’d imagined when you inevitably found out about his lacking. Only Rhys and Cass were privy to his condition, Feyre, her sisters, even Mor had been left in the dark for years now on his request. But you had slowly walked toward him and now reached for his hand to peel the hardened shell of wax back, dropping it into the rest.

Guiding him to the bed, he sat and watched as you silently picked up vial after vial of oil on his dresser, putting them down as you read each label until you found what you were looking for.

He said nothing as you tipped some of it into your hands, rubbing them together to warm them after being out in the biting cold for an age, all thanks to him. You reached for his, only stopping to ask him a simple ‘may I?’ before he agreed, and you took his right hand in between your delicate fingers.

Slowly, you pressed and kneaded the aching skin and muscles, setting the fingers that refused to move back with careful movements. It was tediously long, one of the treatments that he avoided almost all of the time because his own could never fix the problem. But you never complained, never tired from the repetitive nature of it once. When the shakes had finally eased, and his fingers could once again flex and move with little stiffness, you moved to his left; using the same care and diligence on it as you did the first. It must have been a couple hours before you finally retracted your hands from his, resting them in you lap as you smiled up at him. “There. Any better?”

Azriel felt the first drop hit his cheek and roll down until it fell, the rest soon following. “Where did you learn to do that?” He couldn’t tear his eyes form yours, even when his vision blurred from the tears. You had done something no one ever had. After everything he had done – leaving you to wait, sending no word of why, then sitting here with you like a buffoon as you tended and cared for him as no one else had. How could you still look at him like that, with so much warmth?

You blushed under the question, “I asked Madja to show me, in case you needed help when no one else could do it.”

He bristled, no no no no no. “Did Rhys tell you? Did Cassian?!” He’d kill them, he’d kill them both for putting you here. But you waved you hands in denial of his words. “No. No! I – I just thought that it would be something you might need… you know? I know that Illyrian healing is one of the most potent there is, so for your hands to be so scarred, I just thought that maybe it wasn’t all surface level…” Your voiced had filtered out as you finished explaining, but Azriel couldn’t even believe the words that had reached his ears.

You had gone to Madja, or your own choosing, to ask for something no one else had thought of in the time they had known him. “You did this for me?”

“Well, yea. You’re always taking care of me. I just wanted to take care of you sometimes, because I know its nice to receive it. So why shouldn’t I return the fav- ”

Azriel hadn’t even let you finish before he’d moved to place his lips on yours, stealing the intake of breath you’d taken in surprise. He was right, you were soft, and delicate, and just, everything. He moved his now still hands to hold you as he wanted to this afternoon – wrapping one round your waist as the other placed itself to cup your neck. You preened as he pulled you closer, legs tangling slightly and your own hands, the ones which had cared for him so wonderfully, reached for the front of his shirt and pulled on the fabric to bring him impossibly closer. You were incredibly open to him, inviting everything he gave you with warmth and just as much delight as he did. it was impossible to pull away from you, and even as he gained the strength to do so you had chased his mouth with a slight nip to his lower lip. His hum swallowed by you, tongue teasing the seam of his mouth until he opened up just as much as you had, and he became engulfed by you once again.   

This time it had been you who pulled to break away from him. He forced himself not to follow as you had done earlier, opening his eyes and finding yours already looking at him. Your cheeks had flushed, and he noticed that somehow you had come to sit on his lap, legs tossed to the side while your dress pooled around you both. He supposed he looked no better, even less so with the grip he had on your waist and neck. But you didn’t seem to mind. Not at all as he worked the skin underneath in a silent apology to sooth whatever pressure he had inflicted.

“Thank you”

Your eyes closed at his words and touch, leaning forward to peck his lips one more time. “Anytime, Shadowsinger. Anytime.”

He should ask to redo your missed outing this morning, should apologise one more time for leaving you to wait. But with the way you had curled into him, Azriel pushed his thoughts back. He’d make it up to you later, he promised himself. He just wanted to hold you for a little while longer.

[theblueflower05]

Mi Ti’ong(In Bloom)

A/N: Usually I try to keep my readers pretty ambiguous so that everyone can envision themselves, but this ones gonna be a little more distinct. If that isnt your jam, please dont read! No use of Y/N. Reader nicknamed Flora. Based on the character from Winx Club! And this art!

Word Count: 6k+

Warnings: Size difference kink.Mature Language. Smut. Overstimulation. Oral sex(female receiving) Neteyams a munch, it’s canon now.

Summary: Neteyam can have anyone and yet he only wants you. A small human who can usually be found among the flowers. Neteyam x Human! Reader

Sugar, honey, iced tea. Bumble bee on the scene.

Yeah I’d give up my bakery to have a piece of your pie, ugh!

-See You Again, Tyler the Creator.

The forest is alive, the beating heart of Eywa felt in each and every leaf among the trees.

Every glowing piece of flora and fauna, every creature whose calls echo through the vastness.

This time of year is special and it's as though it is known. Deeply and primitively by all. The rains had come and gone, nearly a month of bruised skies that had bogged down the village and its daily life.

But as they always do the skies cleared, and the sun made its reappearance. Glittering and glimmering- triple rainbows breaking out in kaleidoscope like figurations. Beaming down with all of it’s warmth and vitality.

The earth is well fed and fertile, the soil rich and blooming with new life.

It’s that new life that brings the talioang(water buffalo like beasts) back. The creatures return in great migrations to the lush pastures of sweet new grasses to have their babies. The fish swim upstream, battling the roaring rivers, to spawn. The fruit hangs heavy and ripe in the trees. All around there is nothing but full bellies and joy.

This period of abundance is the Great Mother’s gift to her children.

It had always been Neteyam’s favorite time of the year.

Everything lush and bursting with life, the excitement a low constant hum amongst the tribe. The Great Hunt is coming and his father had given him the okay to take lead.

In his nineteen years, he had never been appointed with so much responsibility.

Jake tells him it will all be fine, nothing but easy smiles. This will be good. A fantastic way to show the clan that he’s ready to take on the title of Olo’eyktan once his father steps down. Although he manages to keep is calm and cool demeanor in public, he’s so fucking nervous he can barley function.

It’s why he’s here, trudging through the branches.

The village is buzzing with excitement. Everyone wants a moment of his time, their voices overlap as they wish him good luck.

Question his competence as head of the hunt.

Subliminally hint that hunters twice his age have never gotten the chance to do what has been so freely handed to him.

Remind him that their daughters are pretty. Unmated. Makes the best steamed Teylu. Are fertile and willing to give him strong children-

Fuck.

The moment he could, he’d slipped away. Disappeared into the foliage and had booked it deep into the trees, desperate for a moment alone. For a moment of silence and the peace of being away from prying eyes.

He doesn't even really know where he’s going.

Only that he just needs to be away. If only for an hour. He needs to recharge his ever draining social battery, to get his head on straight before tomorrow's hunt.

Neteyam has always performed his best under pressure.

Things that made others balk and cower ignited something in him. A need to fight. To prove himself- it’s not the prospect of high adrenaline and stampeeding hooves that makes him squirm. It’s all of the attention its garnering.

He know’s fully well that being the next Olo’eyktan means that attention comes with the territory. But that doesnt mean the thought of everyones focus on him doesnt make his indigo skin crawl.

He’s leaping aimlessly between vines when he remembers his sisters earlier proposition.

“Come with me and Flora to the watering hole today! The waterfalls are so pretty during this season- We’re going to go swimming!”

It’d been tempting this morning, and now it is even more so. He could use a dip in the cool waters and Kiri was always an ear to vent to when he got overwhelmed. He’d clear head and then leave-

He wouldn't get stuck staring at you.

Again,

No.

He can't pinpoint exactly when this happened.

It was like one night you were just another human at the Outpost. Another familiar alien face he’d grown up around. Just like Spider you’d stuck close with the Sully children. Your cheeks always flushed beneath your exo-mask and your fingernails always dirty and caked with mud from the hours and hours you’d spend tending to any and all plants that came in your line of vision. You were always so soft. Too soft for his liking sometimes. You’d cry at just about anything whether it be one of those old Tawtute movies the scientists played at the lab or the sight of an injured shimmyfly.

And then suddenly gone was that snotty, teary little girl he’d always known. And in her place was…you. A woman grown. Beautiful and bold- and there was strength in your softness now. You’d proved him wrong so many times- made it clear that you weren't another responsibility he’d have to shoulder-

“I can take care of myself, Neteyam” you’d insisted, never letting him carry your heavy baskets or tend to your scraped knees.

It’s maddening, the way that you shrug off any and all of his advances drives him fucking insane.

Neteyam approaches the secluded bank of the watering hole that his family loves best slowly, keeping in the treeline. Just out of sight. Just like he’d expected he finds you and Kiri on the familiar sands. Kiri is lounging in the sun, eyes closed and humming a pleasant tune to herself-oblivious to anything around her. He’d have to chastise her about her complete lack of situational awareness later.

You’re knee deep in the lake- tending to the water lilies that grow close to shore. Your back is to him but he bets your nose is all scrunched up, just like it always is when you’re around anything green and growing. His eyes drink you in greedily. All of your sun kissed skin is on display in the tiny faded pink panties you don for swimming.

He’d never found humans particularly pretty before you. The intense differences in their bodies had never appealed to him-

But Eywa, are you something to look at.

Time had been kind to you, and as you’d grown your body had morphed into something goddess like. You’re a real looker, his father had claimed. Would’ve been a total knockout back on Earth.

You’re all plush curves. Your breasts are pert and sit like rip hanging fruit on your chest, your hips wide and thighs jiggly and thick. And your waist…he’s sure if he put his much larger hands around them, his fingers could touch. He could cage you in his hold.

That thought has him biting his tongue, hard enough to taste metallic. You turn a bit, your laughter chiming over the glittering water like soft wind at some dry joke Kiri made.

Your hair color is light, lighter than any Na’vi’s and falls down around your shoulders in thick waves. He can only make out the side of your face but your full lips are pulled into a coy smile and your light jade eyes sparkle and all hell. Neteyam is so gone on you.

You’re like nothing he’s seen and definitely nothing he’s had.

And since his Iknimaya he’s had his first pick of the women of the clan.

He’s tasted passionate huntresses and flexible dancers alike and none of them satiate his thirst. None of them are able to replicate what he can only imagine you might taste like. It’s almost pathetic how many women he’s had and how many times he’s almost called out your name as he emptied his seed.

Neteyam’s more discreet about his romps than his brother, that’s for sure- but still. It’s a known fact that he’s an unmated male at his prime and that comes with a certain appetite. He can have anyone he wants, any Omatikayan woman would be glad to spend a night with him.

Yet somehow he’s lurking, hiding in the bush. Watching you longingly. Simpering like a pre-teen and pining over the way that the sunlight plays in the strands of your hair.

He shakes himself from his embarrassing reverie.

No one would be able to tell that just moments before he’d been debating on stroking his cock to just the sight of you, lurking in the trees like a creep. No. As he approaches its with his head held high and a sharp smile on his handsome smile.

“Brother!” Kiri grins, sitting up once she clocks him.

“What are you girls up to?” Neteyam greets. Cool as a cucumber.

“Nothing much, just been here since dawn. The waters so high this year!” Kiri picks up a fruit from beside her, peeling at its tender meat “everyone’s been out here today-on the other side, but no one knows how to get to this spot so we’ve had the beach all to ourselves”

You’re coming in from the lapping shore, beaming at him “Look at all the paysul(waterlily) that’ve bloom! I’ve never seen this many- isn't it amazing?”

“They are very beautiful. The rains were hard this year. I’m surprised the flooding wasn't worse” Neteyam tries not to focus on how tiny your chest covering- the bra as you call it- is. He turns his attention to his sister instead.

“Where’s Tuk, I cant believe she’d miss a chance to swim with you guys”

“She’s with mom, stuck on weaving duty since she tore grandma’s favorite tapestry” Kiri snorts because her baby sister had thrown a complete fit when she had been told she couldn't come “What about you? I thought you we’re too busy to hang out with the likes of us”

“I was able to make a little time for my favorite girls” Neteyam jests, amused by your eye roll and Kiri’s scoff “Plus, Lo’ak told me you need some humbling. Seems you forgot who’s the best diver in the family”

“Oh, you’re on, Teylupil(penis face/dick head)”

After stripping down to only his cloth, his cumberband and com left on shore, he slips into the cool refreshing water with a pleased “Ah”. Enjoying the gentle current against his skin-only to be tacked under the surface by Kiri and all of her bony lanky limbs moments later.

The sun soaked afternoon is filled with laughter and splashing. It’s exactly what he needs.

The three of you play in the river like children. Neteyam and Kiri go at it like the always do- careful to be gentle with your smaller form as you join in. It’s easy to forget the looming pressure of the hunt while he’s jumping from the rushing waterfalls and racing his sister, discreetly preening when he wins and you cheer him on with little claps.

Eventually you all tire.

Kiri floats on the water and goes to that place in her head that she so often does. Completely at peace to be surrounded by nature. She claims it’s when she can best hear Eywa.

Neteyam keeps a bit of an eye on her to make sure she doesn't randomly fall asleep again. Hoping she’d have the sense to get back to the beach before that happened.

Water floods his face and goes right up his nose.

His head snaps to you, spluttering and wiping at his eyes, “What the hell?”

You just giggle innocently before disappearing beneath the surface.

Neteyam’s tail flicks with interest.

He decides to let you get your little head start. His heart speeds up with the promise of a hunt before he starts his chase.He might be bigger then you but you're quick and slippery. Your mask giving you the advantage of not having to come up for air like he does.

When he grabs your ankle, so sure he’s got you, you all but kick him in the face to get away.

You little shit.

Fine.

If you want to play dirty, then he’s game.

He allows you to think you have a chance. That you may be winning the little game. You’re heading for the waterfall, planning to hide behind it.

He’s bigger and more trained than you could ever hope to be.

It only takes one well planned move and you’re done.

He yanks a hold of you, secure. He holds you then, your back against his chest and his strong muscle corded arms wrapped around you from behind before propelling the both of you through the pounding waterfall and into the small, closed off cave behind it.

“Neteyam!” You whine, squirming in his hold like a fish and he just laughs because honestly. He can barely feel it. You’re trying to escape with all his might and he’s holding you the way he might hold a child throwing a tantrum.

He leans in close, burying his face in your wet hair, close to your ear “I win, Sylaung(flower)”

He feels you shiver in his arms and it just makes him hold you tighter. He could keep you like this forever, if you’d only let him. Instead he can feel without you even saying so how hesitant you feel about this

“I think I deserve a prize” he pushes on even further and you give him a confused, side ways look. He so graciously allows you to turn in his hold until your chests meet, face to face.

“Like what?” you wonder and you’re too cute. You’re looking up at him, struggling to treading water with your smaller legs- Neteyam lifts you higher, until you’re bracing your hands on his broad shoulders and he’s holding you above the current. Supporting you totally.

“Well what can you give?” His inquiry is almost condescending and you shrug.

“I’m fresh out of gold stars” you tease and he barks out a laugh. Do you think he can't tell? That he can't see the way your cheeks flush and your pulse hammers beneath the delicate skin of your throat?

“What about a kiss” he offers offhandedly and your face scrunches up in a glare automatically.

“You don't want to?...”

“Why do you make fun of me like this, Neteyam” It’s not often he hears your voice this hard, soured by embarrassment and self doubt.

“I’m not making fun of you” he insists with a sigh “I don't know why you always say that. When have I ever given you the impression that I’d do that?”

You won't meet his gaze. Your green eyes flick, anywhere but on him. Zeroing somewhere behind his back. All too interested on the rocky cave wall.

“If it wasn't for this damned mask” Neteyam husks, low and sincere “I’d kiss you right now”

Even still, you don't seem convinced. Won't look at him until he takes your face in his hand, his fingers gentle but insistent. They grip the mask at your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Why don't you believe me?”

“I’m nothing like the Omatikaya women you’ve been with” you say plainly like it's so obvious. Like it's a problem.

“I know”

“You didn't even like me growing up. You thought I was annoying”

“That isn't true-”

“It is” you insist haughtily “you’d make fun of me for talking to my plants”

He doesn't mean to laugh, really he doesn't. It’s not the time for it and it just pisses you off even more. He doesn't let you out of his arms even when you swat at him. “Listen, I’m sorry. I think it’s very sweet the way you talk to your plants. I want you to talk to me just like that, please”

That earns him a little giggle and he feels very pleased with himself.

You play with his hair often, most times it's mindless. A way to distract yourself. Your small deft fingers twirl along his adorned braids. He craves the scritch of your manicured nails on his scalp.

“How do you want me to kiss you? If I have my mask on” The interest in your hair is only just veiled. Your attempt at being nonchalant fails.

“Hmm” Neteyam feigns thinking, face screwed up “I think I could come up with a few ideas”

A few thousand more like it. You were the star of all of his fantasies. You, twisted and contorted into positions that would surely make you blush. You, with your mouth hanging slack in pleasure. Screaming his name-

But you hadnt agreed to that. You only, just barely, agreed to let him kiss you.

When he leans in its slow. Slow enough to give you time to push him away.

The waterfall roars in the background, white noise, but even it can't drown out the thunderous beating of your frantic heart.

Then his lips are pressed against your throat, gulping in the sweet scent of you. He cant kiss your mouth, but he can kiss the sweet, smooth column of your neck. Your clavicle. Your quivering shoulders. The heavy flesh of your breast. His kisses are open mouthed, his rough textured tongue dragging over your skin, leaving saliva trails in their wake-

You gasp sharpley when drags the skimpy fabric of your bra down so he can get at your pebbled nipple. He’s just about to suckle, when the moment is broken.

“Guys! Where’d you go?!”

It’s Kiri. Obviously awake from her nap like meditation time.

Your eyes go comically wide and Neteyam reluctantly releases you. Not wanting to get caught with an armful of pretty, half naked human. He’s thankful for the cold water and the way that he can hide the hardness tenting his tweng.

He catches you by the wrist before you can dip beneath the falls-

“We’re not done here, Sylaung” the promise leaves his lips fevor laced and full of heat.

You can only gulp and nod dazed, “I still owe you a kiss” your sweet voice reminds, before you’re ducking back under the water.

Leaving him dazed and buzzing for a moment before he gets it together and follows.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Days later he still hasn't gotten his prize.

Although he’s celebrated by his clan, praised for his successful hunt, he feels like something is missing.

The Harvest Season and its celebrations are well underway. Every night there's dancing and singing around the large bonfires we’re fragrant spiced tailong meat roasts. Neteyam is highly decorated; feathers adorn his freshly braided hair and he's donned his most ornate cumberband. He’s hauntingly handsome

Spider and Lo’ak are sat near the main fire, laughing heartily and sharing a leather gourd full of liquor between themselves.

Spider’s obviously drunk and eyeing Kiri hungerly as she dances with Tuk- he’d never do that sober. Not with Neytiri so near. Lo’ak is lounged out, an attractive female in his lap. She giggles madly at whatever filth his little brother whispers in her twitching ear.

Jealousy bubbles acidicly in Neteyam’s belly and again, he wonders where you are. Why you arent here, in his lap. Letting him woo you.

He figures he’ll have to go to you then, if you won't come to him.

First thing to do is find you.

“Hey, Spider!” the human man is the best place to start. Spider’s eyes are glassy under his mask and still. His friend is excited to see him, greets him with a hand shake and a small hug.

“Neteyam, man! Where have you been all night?”

“Around, you know how it is” Neteyam shrugs, sitting sown on the log, accepting the gourd and taking a swig of the thick sticky sap inside. It burns all the way down.

“This partys essentially for him- I’m surprise you we’re able to get away from dad” Lo’ak shit-talks, like he always does. It’s good natured for the most part “I thought he might throw you a parade or something. Call in the clans-”

“Fuck you, man” Neteyam chuckles, shaking his head at Lo’aks theatrics. “Don't be jealous”

“Jealous of dad? Nah” Lo’ak “Now the women you’re getting? That I might be jealous of”

“Hey!” the girl in his lap, a weaver from a modest family, squrims, pinching at his shoulder “You’ve got all the woman you need for the night, sayrip”

She squeals when Lo’ak squeezes her tight around her middle and blows wet raspberry kisses into her neck.

Neteyam just rolls his eyes and shares a little look with Spider. By the next eclipse, Lo’ak wouldve moved on. He has a knack for loving and leaving.

“Why arent you out there, bro? I saw Amitsa giving you the eyes! She’s so hot and she doesnt ever give anyone the time of day” Spider juts his chin and sure enough. The woman is giving Neteyam longing looks from across the fire. She’s a pretty thing and her sultry voice is renowned in the tribe. He’d be lying if he said he wasnt attracted to her “You’re not gonna go try to get at that?”

No. He’s not.

“Uh” Neteyam scratches the back of his neck “I was actually looking for Flora, I havent been able to find her around lately”

Of course, that sets of a exactly what he knows it would.

His brothers are assholes and have teased his merciesly since discovering his obsessive crush. Spider knocks his much smaller shoulder against Neteyam’s and Lo’ak hoots with laughter.

“How someone can be pussy whipped for pussy they haven't even had is beyond me” Lo’ak snorts and Neteyam gives him a warning growl, his lips snarled up.

It’s nothing he hadn’t heard before.

Lo’ak finds it endlessly amusing that Neteyam had his eye on you, the tiny human he’d grown up so lukewarm about. It had always been his siblings; Kiri and Lo’ak and Tuk that were close with you growing up. Neteyam had never shown a speck of interest until your figure had grown curvy and supple-

“Piss off, I wasn’t asking you” Neteyam gives his best big brother stare down. His golden eyes hard and unimpressed before looking to Spider, hairless brows raised “You know where I could find her?”

“Listen man, she said wasn’t interested in hanging out with anyone tonight” the human man starts with a sigh and Neteyam’s growl is low and warning “-but I’m sure you can find her where she always is”

Neteyam wracks his brain for a moment “The Greenhouses?”

“Bingo” Spider nods, an almost sympathetic look in his eye as he watches Neteyam jump to his feet and set off.

Lo’ak sniggers and the girl in his lap scoffs and mutters something about “shameful, being that twisted up about a tawtute” but Spider says nothing.

Instead his plixr hazed eyes focus on the figure dancing close to the firelight. Kiri lets out a twinkling laugh at something Tuk says and yeah. Spider understands Neteyam. He understands being completely obsessed with something you’ve never had.

Instead of taking a note from his much braver brother, he lifts his mask and takes another shot of the acidic syrup.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Neteyam could make the trek through the forest to Hells Gate in his sleep..

He’d spent a good chunk of his childhood retracing these exact steps, headeded for the familiar concrete fortress that made up the last human outpost on Pandora.

Neteyam had always been far too similar to his mother, for countless reasons. But his distaste for everything industrial was one of the main reasons. As he got older he spent less and less time here. Couldnt be found in the cold echoing hallways like Lo’ak and the girls coul

But even he could admit.

There’s something beautiful about the Greenhouses.

With their dome like structure, the big glass buildings are a fortress for the humans. Inside they’re as hot and humid as the Pandoran rainforests- but circulating Earth air so that the fruits and vegetables that are native to Terra Firme can grow, even on this alien planet.

Neteyam makes his way inside, plugging in the codes into the keypad and letting himself in through the pressurized doors that slide closed right behind him. His eyes are peeled, taking in all of the foreign greenery, hoping to catch a flash of tanned skin or light hair in the cracks between trees.

The Greenhouses are huge. There’s orchards of apples and oranges and long deep garden beds full of root vegetables. Enough to feed the Hell’s Gate settlement throughout the year, to trade with the People of the Omaticaya.

No matter, he’s a blooded hunter after all.

He hones in on that training as he tracks your path. Your footprints along the cement floor are light, and really you barely leave any trace of yourself at all. You float along with light steps and Neteyam truly thinks if you had been born one of the People you would’ve made a fine huntswoman-

He finds you in the shade of the orange trees. You’re up on a stool, gathering the plump fruit and humming a pleasant little tune.

You’re ethereal in artificial sunlight.

You’re something out of the books that Norm used to read to them when they were kids. His favorite had been the one about the boy who would never grow up and the island of Neverland. And the tiny golden dust covered pixi that flitted from page to page.

A fairy.

A being not quite real. Too gentle and feminine to exist.

He likes the tawtute clothes you wear. The small top that clings to your breasts like a second skin and the flowy patterned skirt. Of course if it was up to him you’d only ever wear the garments of the People- or even better, Nothing at all.

You reach too high, strained up on your tippy toes and Neteyam feels irrational fear at that. At all of your delicate skin and breakable neck-

He’s beside you in an instant and he doesn't need a ladder to reach the high hanging fruit you’d been struggling for. He grabs the fruit with one hand while the other stabilizes you, his big palm spread out across the small of your back.

You gasp at his warm touch. Your head snapping in his direction and legs going wobbly.

“Neteyam!”

“Flora” He sighs as he urges you down from the ladder, takes the heavy bucket of fruit from your hands “You really do need to be more careful”

You splutter for a moment, still shocked at his sudden arrival “I- ugh! I was fine!” you insist haughtily “It’s not like I don't do this all of the time. You didn't need to come help me, I can manage perfectly fine on my own”

“Need to help you?” Neteyam cocks his head a bit.

“Yeah…I mean. Why else would you be here?” you ask, scratching awkwardly at your arm for a moment “Tonight's the celebration. You really should be back with the clan-”

“As should you” He cuts you off firmly. Not liking the way that you’re trying to separate yourself from the tribe. From him “I have not seen you for days. Do you not want to feast with our people?”

You sigh, looking away from him. Biting at that plump ever pink bottom lip of yours. Always shy, he knows he needs to bring you out of your shell. You’ll find a way to run away from him again if he doesn't.

“I didnt come here to help you” Neteyam admits because he’s selfish and because you’re too beautiful. Even more so, since you’ve been hiding from him. Avoiding his attention.

“Oh really?” you’re not coy by nature but there's something in your eyes. In the way you’re looking up at him “Then what are you here for?”

“My kiss”

Your pupils expand, just the tiniest bit but he can see it. He can see it all. Every inch of your pretty face, unbridled by that cumbersome mask you usually are forced to don. He can see every freckle and blemish- and the way that a blush creeps across the apples of your cheeks.

“A deals a deal” Neteyam insists at the prolonged silence. At your nervous flicking gaze.

“Okay” is your sweet reply and he can only stare at your plump lips. A man with one thing and one thing only on his mind.

You don't protest when he reaches for you. When his big hands go around your waist and tug slowly until he’s enveloping you in his chest. You fit so perfectly, right under his sternum. Stare up at him with wide eyes that flutter closed the closer he inches his face towards yours.

The kiss is wet and electric and Neteyam wants to eat you whole.

Any awkwardness that comes from the size difference is soon overcome by the desire that simmers between you. You let him lead, always so willing to go with whatever flow he may give. Let him nip at your delicate bottom lip until he can almost taste the metallic twang of blood. Let him stick his much bigger tongue into your warm mouth, and then down your constricting throat.

As you make little gasping choking sounds, he imagines it's his huge pulsing cock stealing the air from your lungs instead.

You gasp for breath when he pulls away, as he trails kisses down your soft jaw. He cant stop, wants to taste you everywhere. Every inch of skin. He know it must be overwhelming- if your heaving breaths and mewls are anything to go by, he knows you’re feeling every inch of the mind spinning need that he is.

Still,

No matter how much he gropes at you with rough hands and drags spit soaked kisses over your neck and chest, youre so good for him. Such a good girl. Holding on for any ride he might take you on. Your fingers twined in his silky braids arent there to push him away, but to pull him closed.

When he grasps you by the back of your thighs and hoists- you wrap your legs around his slim waist, your ankles hooking at his lower back.

The helpless noise you make goes straight to his groin.

Neteyam lies you down on hard floor. He’d rather have you in the warmth of his Kelku, or under the stars, but at least here he can get at your maskless face. At your bare lips. Once he’s cradling your head safely and tucked in between your spread thighs he's at you again. Ravenously.

You’re so docile, so eager to let him take whatever he wants.

“Flora” he husks into your hair and you shiver.

“Yeah?”

“Flora” Neteyam brings your little body even closer.”You have no Idea. I have to have you. I need-”

You squeak needily “You can have whatever you need” and gasp when Neteyam kisses your cheek. Your lips. Your jaw. Your neck. Your nerves are on fire and your hips grind against his.

“I need this body. I need to see all of it, you drive me crazy” Neteyam armits as he tugs on your top and you help him pull it up over your head. You dont wear a bra, why would you? Your pretty rosy nipples are all on display for him. Pebbled and begging for attention, He laps slowly with his wide textured tongue at the puffy nub.

He suckles like a newborn until you’re chivalry and making hurt little sounds, until your pretty chest is covered in blooming bruises.

And then he’s dragging his wanting mouth down. Past your heaving ribs and over your soft belly. Neteyam hikes the flowy material of your skirt up high, until he can bend down and poke his head underneath.

“Oh!” you gasp, writhing a bit. Your thighs trying to close on instinct.

You’re so wet for him, the smell of it is thick and heady and he digs his nose into your inner thigh and snuffles. Its mouthwatering.

And it bit mortifying, from your end. Having the large man with his head buried under your skirt as he sniffs at your core-

When he licks a fat stripe over you, wetting up the thin material of your panties you cry out. No ones ever touched you like this and here he is, licking at your clothed pussy. Over and over until the fabric is translucent and sticky with your flowing juices.

“Please” you mewl, gathering the fabric, yanking until you can see him.

Its filthy and erotic. The sight of his hulking blue body between your trembling tanned thighs. So alien. So taboo-

“Please what, sylaung?” Neteyam taunts, his golden eyes meeting yours. They shine with mirth, and lust. So much lust. When he noses at your pink flowery panties you throw your head back, eyes squeezed closed. Unable to take the sight any longer “You want me to take care of you?”

“Yes” you sob because you’re pulsing and you can barley breathe you’re so horny “Please take care of me with your tongue”

Neteyam strips you then, out of your skirt and cute little panties and you’re lying under him. Naked and flushed and wanting.

He shoulders himself exactly back where he wants to be. Where he’s always wanted to be.

“Don't worry, I’ll take care of this sweet pussy for you”

Oh god. Your head is spinning.

You can barely think as he kisses on the jiggling fat of your thighs.

“I’m sorry” you gasp.

Neteyam hums right against your core and you can feel the vibrations throughout your entire body “What for?”

“I’m so messy” you whisper, that pink blush blooming all over your body.

Groaning, Neteyam can't wait any longer. Your flavor bursts along his taste buds. Tangy and earthy and decadently sweet. He’s had his fair share of cunt before, but he’s never tasted a humans and he’s shocked at how saccharine it is. It’s sticky and coats his mouth and throat. His lips and nose and chin as he digs in.

“Neteyam!” You wait.

“Fuck. Oh, Eywa. One Second” Neteyam sits up and adjusts himself where his painfully hard under his tweng and the ache in you deepens. You try to be good, try to be still as he leans in and licks at you again. Kisses your pussy in that same beautiful passionate way he kisses your lips.

He’s good. Too good at this. He’s had too much practice and you never had a chance againts that oversized mouth.

“Holy fuck” the words sound even more vulgar in your honeyed voice “Fucking hell, Nete. Nete. I’m almost there”

Neteyam grin is hidden between the lips of your pussy. He doubles down, letting you hump and soak his face. Then lapping back at inside of you in a repetitive and ceaseless rhythm, One that has you shaking, arching up off the ground. Your plush thighs closing, clamping around his head as you come.

Your orgasm cinches tight and rushes around you, inside of you, out of you with a gush of slick. It’s so deep. So strong, that it takes a moment for you to truly peak and it leaves you in a daze. Out side of your body as you fuck up againts Neteyams mouth like a wild animal.

You’d never come so hard in your life and it takes a while for you to recenter.

Once youre able to focus past the rushing in your ears, the first thing you notice is Neteyam’s face streaked with wet. Your blush blooms across your cheeks as you both breathe unevenly into the quiet.

“Did that feel good?” Nereyam knows it did, but still. He needs to ask. Needs to hear you say it.

You giggle, girlish and airy as your dainty hand releases his hair and cups at his cheek “So so good. I’ve never felt anything like that before”

His grin is all too feline and seeing those white canines gleam so close to the most sensitive part of you is a little alarming.

“There’s so much more to come, yawntutsyip” Neteyam promises, leading back down. His fingers play with the jiggle of your thigh- so different then any of the Omaticaya women he’s had You squirm a bit, clearly overstimulated, but keep your legs spread anyway.

Neteyams long digits prod gently at your pussy lips. You’re oddly pretty here. All red and rosy and inflamed, like that blush he loved so much on your cheeks. He spreads you with two fingers so that he can look at you inside. At your quivering pink folds and your tiny little hole that clenches when he runs his finger along it.

“You’re so small here” he whispers, completely hypnotized by it “So fucking tight. You’ll never be able to take me”

You whimper unhappily “Don’t say that. I want to- please just try”

“Shh,” Neteyam soothes your cries. Your dazed worries. He distracts you with his tongue, as it swirls over your throbbing clit. It feels a bit like sandpaper to your nerves, but you can get enough.

When his finger begins to breach you, you hold your breath.

Its big, but youre so loose from your first orgasm, so desperate to be filled that he sinks in until the hilt.

Its maddening after that and you grind the back of your head into the hard concrete under you- your eyes closed and your mouth hanging open. The sounds you make are feral and raw-

Neteyam fucks you open with one and then two fingers until its easy. Until the sweet stretch doesn't burn- instead its slippery and wet.horribly wet as Neteyam feasts on you as he fucks you with his fingers-

“Too much-Fuck” you weakly try to pull away from the assult of pleasure but he he’s too strong. Pins you down. Makes you take whatever he wants to give you.

When he lifts your hips up even higher to take a curious lick at your puckered asshole you white out.

This orgasm isnt like the first. You sink under the waves of this one. Your muscles cramp with the intensity. You cant come back to yourself, you can’t cling to anything but Neteyam. You cant even scream.

He’s everything, as he soothes you. As he makes you feel things you’ve never felt before.

“H-hurts” you whimper, eyes filling up with tears. Pussy aching.

“Just a little more baby” Neteyam huffs as he licks at you and stuffs the hand that's covered in your cum down his own tweng. It lubricates the fast and furious pumping of his fist along his rock hard cock.

He cant fuck you tonight, thats something the two of you will have to work up to. He’ll teach your tiny body to take him. To crave penetration.

But with his tongue buried in your pulsating pussy and your scent all around him its easy enough to pretend. Easy enough to imagine shoving himself into you slowly. Stretching you’re ruined. Your hole would never be the same. You’d forever gape because of him-

Neteyam comes with a roar and dirties his loincloth up like a teenager.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Later, after he’s cleaned you both up the best he can and gathered you to his chest. After he’s taken a sip from the breathing mask and nuzzled ar your wispy soft baby hairs that are plastered against the side of your sweaty head-

That he has the urge to read that book again. The one with the fairies. As he watches your slumbering face, your nose scrunching and lips pursing, he thinks the onlt thing missing is the gossamer wings,

His own little fairy.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

AAAAAAND we’re done.

First and foremost I want to give the wonderful @oakbuggy her accolades. Her Neteyam x Flora art inspired this fic 100%. A couple months ago I actually messaged her begging her to let me right this for her because I just couldn't get over this crackship of dreams. Thank you for being so patient with me. I hope you enjoy that overstimulation, baby!

PLEASE GO CHECK OUT HER ART. It’s sooooo delish.

This was a monster to write because I just had so many different ideas of what I wanted to do with the two of them and couldn't pinpoint where exactly I wanted the plot to go. Even now its a bit messy but still. I’m a fucking sucker for Neteyam x Flora and I would be more then happy to write more of them if thats something everyone would be into.

Please give me some feedback. What did we think about this writing style? Do we like the Y/N route more?

Until next time sweet honey bees!

[night-raven-tattler]

What's your ideal type?

Summary: What would be the best traits for their potential partner to have?

Characters: Octavinelle dorm (Azul, Jade, Floyd) × GN!Reader (separate, romantic)

Other parts of the series: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings: none

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Azul's ideal type would be...

Someone witty. Azul is a smart guy who likes being entertained. While his way of achieving that is less... for lack of better words, aggressive than the tweels', he enjoys a good mental game. If you can carry a good conversation with him, he'll remember you.

Someone who doesn't pressure him into making decisions. He is someone whose independence is very important to him. On top of that, his signature spell literally revolves around choice as a concept, so he understand the importance of it. Someone as stubborn as Azul will keep his distance if anyone tries to influence his free will.

Someone who appreciates music. He's a pianist and a good singer, which are skills that require a lot of practice and hard work, something Azul is known for. He will appreciate any genuine praise, but if you ask him to teach you more about music or, Sevens forbid, you want to duet with him, all of his three hearts are yours.

Someone who doesn't mock him, not even when teasing him. If you really know Azul, you know how bitter he is towards the people who have brought suffering onto him. The words they said are ingrained into his brain, controlling his choices for years after they were spoken to him. I'm not saying to constantly uplift him, but bringing up old wounds will only push Azul away with low chances of getting any closer again.

『••✎••』

Jade's ideal type would be...

Someone whose next move he can't accurately predict. It's kind of easy to catch the attention of any of the tweels, but it's also easy to lose it. The key to keeping Jade's eyes on you is to make him believe he's had you all figured out, then do something unexpected. Being a little unpredictable, even when you think you're outside of Jade's vision, will pique his curiosity.

Someone who plays along his little tricks and schemes. Jade is not an honest person: he always has some ulterior motive, hidden behind carefully worded questions and statements that he uses to poke and prod for information. If you try to help him and his twisted game of detective, he will certainly find you amusing, if not helpful.

Someone who goes exploring with him. Just like his brother, Jade has a fascination for the land above water, and he loves learning things about the fauna and flora. Someone who understands his appreciation for nature and genuinely embraces his curiosity will have a bit more of his appreciation.

Someone who doesn't try to understand him. Jade is very careful not to reveal too much about himself. Being awfully private with himself, he won't open up to just anyone. So he will appreciate someone who doesn't try to pry into his business too much. At the end of the day, Jade can be many things: a bartender, a vice housewarden, an informant, but he'd like to be seen as "just Jade" sometimes.

『••✎••』

Floyd's ideal type would be...

Someone who isn't intimidated by him. It's a surefire way to catch his attention. Even if you just pretend to not be intimidated by him, he'll stick around and try to push all of your buttons, test your limits, squeeze all that he finds interesting out of you.

Someone willing to teach him more about land folks. Everyone knows that Floyd has quite the interest about land folks and their customs. He wants to know more, so don't be afraid to throw random land people things towards him every once in a while. If it's something he didn't know about, he'll tell you to prove it. Congrats, he won't leave your side for a couple of hours.

Someone who doesn't compare him to Jade. Since he's the more polite and responsible one, Floyd gets compared to his brother pretty often, and some people even assume he's the younger twin. It is exhausting to have his other half be given as example on how to behave time and time again. If you reassure him he doesn't have to be like his twin, that being Floyd is just fine, it'll pull at his heartstrings.

Someone who takes his mood swings in stride. From people thinking he is a threat to people who just find him annoying and hard to work with, no one really takes Floyd's mood swings seriously. That doesn't mean he'll open up if you asked him "are you okay" and "what happened". Still, it would be the first time someone outside of his family reacted like that to him. It will baffle him, in a good way.

[i-will-cry-you-a-river]

Based on this post

The Proud Immortal Demon Way was a clusterfuck. Master Airplane was a fucking hack of an author who should never ever be allowed to write papapa. The characters were complete idiots, so blind and stupid and Shen Yuan suspected the close proximity to the abundance of aphrodisiacs was to be blamed for the lack of intelligence points. The plot was nonexistent, the fantastic flora and fauna was forgotten for more pointless papapa. However!

However…

Shen Yuan had to admit. The fanarts and fan merch did not do justice to the beauties residing in the universe.

That hack of an author could not write porn. But his characters really were peerless beauties. One would think if the beauty standards were this high that everyone was a peerless beauty, they should be considered as normal.

One would think it wrong. If he could, he would take back his comments on this specific topic; their beauties really were peerless.

One, like the blooming peach blossom, charming and deceptively sweet; another like the oak tree, tall and reliable; and another like the prettiest blue iris, knowledgeable and lovely. It was a disaster.

Back then it was only the blackened protagonist and his life sized body pillow that made him go through a sexuality crisis. As a shut-in, the people he met with never really made him feel warm under the collar, so being gay was only a theoretical experience for him, only having crushes on fictional people. Now, on the other hand, it was a completely different experience.

He couldn't even step outside of his bedroom without feeling like an emotional wreck. The minute he does that-

“This discipline made breakfast for Shizun!”

The radiant halo of the protagonist blinded him day after day; his precious white lotus is just the cutest and purest, fluffiest sheep ever. Shen Yuan can see the future Emperor in him, the husband of hundreds of pretty flowers, but he was still just his 17 years old discipline, so filial and full of wonder.

Ah, Binghe, such a good boy for this master…

“This master is thankful. Go along now, your shijie is waiting for you,” Shen Qingqiu waved his fan. His little white lotus pouted as if Shen Qingqiu would believe he wasn't excited to spend time with his future wife. He encouraged the two of them to spend time together, and he was certain that the sweet and touching young love bloomed under his careful watch. He was like a fairy godmother…

[-10 protagonist satisfaction points]

Shen Qingqiu sighed behind his open fan. Luo Binghe started to become a homebody, which, as a past homebody himself, knew was a slippery slope and even with all the lost points, he had to make sure his white sheep left the bamboo house. Staying home was great, but when you were the future Emperor of the Three Realms, defeater of countless monsters and husband of a triple digits harem, you just had to learn how to be open to new experiences. Sorry, Binghe…

“Yes, Shizun! This discipline will leave now.” Luo Binghe bows, and it takes everything not to touch and pat his fluffy head.

“Good. This master expects excellence from his disciples.”

“Yes, Shizun. This discipline understands and will do everything to exceed Shizun’s expectations.”

Such a filial discipline! Such a sweet white lotus! This one is truly a scum villain to do what he needs to do.

[Host is-]

I know I know! You don't have to remind me![(⁠ب⁠_⁠ب⁠)]

Shen Qingqiu sighed, hiding his shame and regret behind his mask. He really was just a scum villain.

With a conscious decision to not think about the future, he ate his breakfast instead, noting the protagonist’s amazing cooking powers. He would miss this after Luo Binghe gets married and starts to cook for his wives instead.

Maybe the guy he finds for himself will be good at cooking… nothing compared to the protagonist, of course, but nobody can be compared to him. That would be unfair for his potential partner.

However, even though he'd been Shen Qingqiu for three years, he hasn't yet found anybody for himself. He tried to flirt, he tried to see who might be gay other than him - statistically, there should be SOMEONE, right?! -, but no results.

The Sect Leader immediately brother-zoned Shen Qingqiu through his and the original good's past bond, which was quite unfair in Shen Yuan's opinion. Yue Qingyuan was a fine specimen of a man. Strong and reliable, just the kindest man Shen Qingqiu ever met. He was the perfect man, THE husband material. Yet, the original good has been so cold to him, cruelly causing his death, even though they were like brothers. Shen Yuan wouldn't have minded the Sect Leader as his husband; someone loyal and powerful, someone who could protect him from his blackened lotus. So unfair…

His Liu-shidi, the prettiest man alive, was so straight, only the protagonist was straighter than him. Shen Qingqiu was honestly sad for him; all the women in PiDW belonged to the Emperor. He was quite tempted to find a way to punch Airplane Shooting Towards Sky in his face for making Liu Qingge straight. Look. Shen Yuan was a weak, weak man; if Liu Qingge would show the slightest inclination to be at least bi-curious, he would be all over his shidi in a heartbeat. That man, honestly… it was no wonder the author killed him before the plot. Liu Qingge was typically the Second Male Lead, who was the boyfriend of all readers. (He definitely would have been Shen Yuan's fictional boyfriend, that's for sure. Maybe if he would have stayed alive in the novel, Shen Yuan wouldn't have minded the lack of plot that much. Liu Qingge would have definitely made the whole thing a thousand times better just by being alive. Like he did it now. The best times of the week were when his shidi visited him to spar or to cleanse his meridians.)

Shen Qingqiu had high hopes for Mu Qingfang. The doctor was quite queer in the sense of being weird. He hoped he was queer as in gay as well. However, the only time Shen Qingqiu tried to flirt with him, resulted in a two day stay at Cang Qiong mountain under constant supervision. That was a quite humiliating result, if he could say so.

Shen Qingqiu bit back a groan. No matter; that was just the peak lords he kept close contact with. He had the whole universe to find that one (1) gay person who would be happy to spend that depressingly short amount of time with him until he was still alive. He might have only five years to live, before he would become a human stick, but he would NOT die as a virgin disaster gay. He would remain a disaster gay forever, but he would lose his virginity before his death, damnit!

Now, volunteer, where are you?

Here they are

[its-your-mind]

ORV as textposts 35/???

[Photo ID - seven images from the ORV manhwa with text pasted upon them.

The first image shows Han Sooyoung gesturing toward Kim Dokja while she talks at him angrily. A Tumblr post by user thefunniesttags is pasted upon her. It shows an AO3 tag that reads, "insults: the sixth love language."

The second image shows Kim Dokja looking at his reflection in a subway door with blood on it. Some blood is positioned to appear to be placed on Kim Dokja's cheek. The text post is by Tumblr user sometimes-love-is-enough and reads, "yeah i turned your boyfriend into an unreliable narrator. sorry. yeah, he's exaggerating aspects of the story to cast himself in a better light. he's obscuring the narrative he doesn't want to think about. he's misrepresenting others to further his own ends. yeah, i think he's doing it as some sort of emotional defence mechanism. his story cannot be trusted. sorry."

The third image shows Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja looking toward each other with the rest of their body facing the viewer. The visible part of the speech bubble pointing toward Yoo Joonghyuk reads, "something you wanted to tell me." The speech bubble pointing toward Kim Dokja reads, "No, I was just admiring that ugly mug of yours." The text post is by Twitter user @/AZIRACROWS and reads, "the BEST ships always include someone who is clearly on the spectrum and the most depressed man you'll ever meet"

The fourth image shows Kim Dokja looking at a transparent wall of papers with typed text on them. The text post is by Twitter user clit "the spook" buttowski (@/BIGVICEE) and reads, "Men really be having little ass waists for what. WHAT YOU NEED THAT FOR WHORE"

The fifth image is a close-up of Yoo Joonghyuk with a pained expression and yellow and blue lighting around him as he looks at his left hand. The text post is by Tumblr user blazevillain and reads, "YES he is a MASSIVE BITCH but hes also BISEXUAL and a PUNCHING BAG and ALMOST DIES AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK. AND hes my little meow meow."

The sixth image is a close-up of Kim Dokja adjusting the collar of his white cloak while looking over his right shoulder at the viewer. A thought bubble above him reads, "I forgot that he was right here." Two speech bubbles are below him with the first one covered by a Tumblr post by user greelin that reads, "he lived. served cunt. died. got resurrected. served even more cunt." The second original bubble reads, "If I die again, I'II die for good."

The seventh image shows Yoo Joonghyuk panting and sweating while holding two swords with blood dripping on his swords and hands. A quiz result is pasted near the bottom of the image. It reads as follows:

Your Result:

Ancient Fauna

crocodiles are hundreds of millions years old or whatever. mooses are remnants of the ice age. creatures that are young and yet have seen more of this earth than man ever will. who are flesh and blood and alive and yet move as if they exist on a different plane to us. and yet are so real and a part of things. you and these strange liminal creatures confound, sometimes you're being hit by cars or turned into purses and then sometimes giving a look that speaks of aeons gone and aeons to come

/End ID]

ID by @incorrect-web-novels once again 💙💙💙 my deepest appreciation!!!

[serverusslaype]

Shameless

potential Snape x professor!reader fic?

Shameless Masterpost

so, this was just a thing i typed up late last night because late night snape cravings hit and i honestly just wanted to write something. it's not perfect, of course, but where else to post it but on this beloved, yet cursed site?! <3

i have a few parts typed up so if people enjoy it, i'll post the other ones. just a heads up, i'm not entirely following the book/movie, sort of just making it up as i go.. so please, do not come for me, it's just a self-indulgent fic at this point. :,) considering i have not really proofread this properly, forgive me for any mistakes lmao

also, i've made the reader a hufflepuff because i am one, and so it's easier for me to write .. also cos i feel like i suck at writing as other houses lmfao

anyway.. here we gooooo..

"You look lost in thought, my dear," Professor McGonagall turned to you, tilting her head in a concerned fashion. You wet your lips and turned to face your older colleague and blinked - a pathetic attempt at trying to ground yourself. She'd caught you daydreaming again. "Everything alright?" She questioned quietly, a kind smile picking at the corners of her lips.

You tore your gaze away from the subject of your attention and looked to the Gryffindor Head of House, who was seated to your right. 

"Oh," Clearing your throat awkwardly, you nodded at her. She didn't look too convinced. "Just a long day, I suppose." You lied and glanced down at your hands that were clasped together in your lap; fingers fidgeting nervously like you'd just been caught doing something you shouldn't.

McGonagall didn't look satisfied nor happy with your answer, but she didn't want to press you - that wasn't her business. The older witch was respectful in that way, and for that you were grateful. You offered her a small smile in return to reassure her.

The older woman raised her brows in a disbelieving manner, her twinkling eyes studying your blank face as if trying to decipher what on Earth was bothering you. It felt like you were back in school at Hogwarts all over again, in trouble for breaking the rules or something similar. But you weren't, you were a fellow professor at Hogwarts now, in fact, you were the new teacher for Herbology. Professor Sprout had retired last year and Dumbledore had offered you her position, his memory still serving him well as he remembered you'd always had a thirst and passion for the fauna and flora side of magic. Before that, you were teaching Astronomy.

Currently, you were sat in the Great Hall with the other professors, waiting for Dumbledore to do his usual announcement at the beginning of a new year.

"I don't like it when you lie to me, Y/N." McGonagall gave you a sad look, placing a comforting hand on your fidgeting ones. She stilled your anxious movements and you sighed deeply. Out of all the professors at Hogwarts, you got along the best with the older witch, she had always looked out for you back in school and now. You'd probably say that Sprout was your next closest colleague considering you shared an intense interest for Herbology, so you were sad to see her go.

You didn't say anything in response to Professor McGonagall, you only sucked in your bottom lip and chewed on it for a brief moment before Dumbledore's familiar voice rang out through the Great Hall.

"Good evening, and welcome to another year at Hogwarts," He began, stepping up to the golden owl lecturn, his arms flailing about dramatically. "Now, I'd like to say a few words before we all become too befuddled by our excellent feast. First, I'm pleased to announce that Professor Y/N L/N will be taking over the mantle of Herbology, as Professor Sprout chose to retire at the end of last year. I am very confident that she will be a great successor to our previous Herbology professor." Dumbledore announced, turning to give you a warm smile. You stood up and smiled and waved sheepishly as the students and other fellow professors gave you a round of applause, all of them giving you kind and encouraging smiles.

As your eyes flicked round the table of your fellow professors, you got caught in the gaze of none other than Professor Severus Snape. You sucked in a quiet breath, feeling your body go rigid under his cold gaze. After that, you quickly seated yourself, focusing your attention back onto Dumbledore. Over the past year, you'd unfortunately grown a slight affection for the broody man. You weren't sure why, considering how short and cruel he'd always been with you, but maybe that's what did it. A masochist at heart, perhaps? Surely, that was unlikely for a Hufflepuff like you.

McGonagall noticed the tension, and she immediately leaned towards you, glancing at Snape. "Don't worry yourself about Severus." She hummed to you, offering an encouraging smile. Your fingers rushed up to massage your temples.

"I'll try not to, but I'm probably going to come into contact with him more often now, no? Since he will probably come looking for potion ingredients from my classroom?" You groaned, braving another glance at the raven-haired Potions Master. You felt your cheeks betray you, a light shade of pink tinting them as he met your eyes once more. You quickly looked away. If you were going to keep this under wraps, you were going to need to train yourself not to blush at such small things.

"Well, yes," McGonagall said hesitantly. "But I'm sure he will look to come knocking when you aren't there. He's not the most... socially adept man." She pursed her lips momentarily and you met her gaze, scoffing quietly. She let loose an amused chuckle at your reaction. "You know that, of course." McGonagall added, leaning back into her seat. You hummed in agreement.

"Next on the agenda, I would also like to welcome Gilderoy Lockhart as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." Dumbledore's booming voice tore you from your thoughts, and the name he mentioned caught your attention. Gilderoy Lockhart? Wasn't he a famous author?

You looked up curiously, trying to spot him in the crowd of teachers. There he was, standing proudly with a million-dollar grin plastered on his too-perfect-looking face. God, what an ass, you thought to yourself. He wasn't bad looking, but he just seemed to think everyone was there for him. Obviously.

"He's not going to last until the end of the year, surely." You commented, trying to hide the amused grin that was desperate to make an appearance on your face. Suddenly, Lockhart looked over to you, as if he sensed you were talking about him. You quickly wiped off the grin on your face and politely smiled at him, praying he didn't see your previous expression. It didn't seem like he did, as he just winked at you instead, making you cringe inwardly.

You had to refrain yourself from letting your head hit the table out of embarrassment. Gods, how many people just saw that awkward encounter? Surely the whole bloody school considering the man was still stood up. You slowly sink into your chair, wishing it would swallow you up.

The next day soon came, and you were up early in the morning, ensuring that the greenhouse-classroom was set up perfectly for your first class of second-years. You'd thought it would be fun to start off the year with an interesting and easy, practical lesson. So you chose to teach your students about the Devil's Snare - a dangerous plant that can kill if you did get tangled in it unless you kept calm and relaxed within it's deadly grasp. You were aware that Professor Sprout had gone over this last year with them, but you wanted to remind them of the dangers that this plant possesses. You potted some of the plant into small containers and spread them out over the long table, placing a small warning sign in front of it to ward off some of the more.. courageous students. Particularly Slytherin ones - you weren't discriminating against them, however in your experience they were usually the troublemakers.

"Professor L/N," A familiar, deep voice came from behind you, almost making you jump out of your skin from how deep in thought you were. Spinning around on your heel, the skirt of your dress twirled with you.

"Professor Snape, to what do I owe the pleasure?" You smiled politely at the dark-haired wizard, clasping your hands in front of you to show some sort of composure and confidence. Despite this, you could still feel your cheeks heating up as Snape prowled towards you slowly, his face still cool as stone.

"An unusual job change from being the Astronomy teacher to the Herbology teacher." He commented, glancing over your new classroom with a frown. The Potions Master stopped just short of a metre in front of you. Snape's cloak engulfed him, and you were reminded of the times you and your friends had nicknamed him the Bat of the Dungeons back in school. He truly did embody the look of a bat perfectly, making you wonder if he had based his robes off of one.

"If you remember correctly, I had a passion for both subjects." You replied nonchalantly, though slightly curious to see why he had paid you a visit. Snape hummed disapprovingly at your reply. Clearly, the man didn't approve of any student that excelled in any other subject than Potions.

"What can I help you with, Snape?" You turned back to adjusting the pots of Devil's Snare on the long table, retrieving your wand from your robes and casting a charm to create a dark rain cloud to sit atop of the plants to ensure they were comfortable. Snape watched you, clearly intrigued.

"I need some asphodel roots, if you will." Snape stated, making you turn to look at him with a cocked brow. He continued to stare down at you with a disdainful expression on his pale face, making you want to curl into a ball. "A student of mine neglected the task of retrieving some." He added with that look of disappointment still on his face. Snape's tone was harsh, and you could tell he was pissed off, this task was below him. Obviously.

You let an amused huff slip out of your nose, a smile picking at the corner of your lips as you just imagined the bollocking he gave that student for forgetting something so important, especially in his class. He instantly cast an angry glare at you, and you wiped the smile off of your face almost immediately. The man might not be your professor anymore, but he still scares the shit out of you for sure and you weren't willing to take your chances today.

"Ah," You nodded softly, avoiding his stony eyes. You cleared your throat and padded over to your row of plants, looking underneath the wooden fixture for the jar of asphodel roots you kept. "Brewing Draught of Living Death?" You questioned awkwardly, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that enveloped you and Snape. A curt sigh left his lips at your pathetic attempt at making small talk.

"I'm astonished you know what I require it for, Professor L/N, considering you were rather... academically inept in your potion classes." Professor Snape said coldly, making your jaw clench. It was no secret, you were shit at potions, and Snape always made sure you were aware of it when you were in school. Again, why were you crushing on this cruel man? The word 'masochist' came to mind again. Nonetheless, why were you even helping him? He clearly has no respect for you.

As you continued digging through your storage unit, you finally spotted the jar of asphodel root behind some empty, dusty jars. You retrieved it quickly, suddenly wanting Snape to leave as quickly as possible. After his cruel comment you weren't exactly inclined to keep his company.

As Snape held out his hand demandingly to take the jar from your grasp, you whipped it away with a fierce frown on your face. You may be a shy, little Hufflepuff, but you did not like it when people spoke rudely to you.

"You know, it helps a lot when you have a teacher you like." You said to Snape, holding his cold gaze. It's true, you're more likely to enjoy and perform better in a subject if you like the teacher that is teaching it.

"I did not come here to squabble with you, Miss L/N." Snape rolled his eyes, reaching again for the jar in your hands but you held it closer to your body. You clenched your jaw as he disregarded your title. He wasn't stupid, he was clearly doing it to get under your skin, and it was working.

"It would suit you better to respect the people that are willing to help you, Snape." You bit back at him with narrowed eyes. You passed the jar to him hesitantly, balling your fists in a small fit of rage as he took it from you. "And it's Professor L/N. I'm not your student anymore."

Snape arched a disapproving brow at you, turning around to sweep out of your classroom, his black cloak billowing out behind him like a bat. Gods, he was infuriating! You wondered how the hell the other professors have dealt with him all these years. The bastard didn't even thank you either!

He'd left you in a sour mood, and now you had only ten minutes until your class of second-years arrived. What a git.

part 2!

there it is,, i hope you enjoyed this late night idea, let me know if you did with a like or a comment, whichever you prefer. then again, you don't need to do either! 🩷 :)

[joelalorian]

Petals of Affection - Part II

A floral mystery in three parts, featuring Jackson!Joel x f!reader

Summary: A secret admirer gifts you a different flower and a riddle ten times before you put the clues together and discover that he's been right in front of your face the whole time.

Written for @morallyinept's Flora & Fauna challenge. Please check out all the wonderful works created in Jett's honor!

Word count: 1,996 (twas a good year, jk)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, humor, cursing, gratuitous use of poor floral descriptions, scheming, clueless reader, fluff, eventual smut, alcohol, food, coffee, terms of endearment. POV flops around like petals in the wind. Reader has no physical description aside from having hair that gets frizzy with humidity and often dirt-covered hands, because greenhouses, ya know? No use of y/n, none whatsoever.

Dividers courtesy of the wonderful @saradika-graphics. Gif chosen because of the wonderful floral wallpaper ;)

Thank you for all the wonderful comments and reblogs on Part I. You make my world a brighter place!

Part I | Part III | Masterlist

Maria’s question had you second guessing everything you thought you knew. Her tone held a hint of something in her voice, like she knew more than she let on. Could the mystery flower giver really be Joel?

You tried to picture it, his broad form bent over the pots in the greenhouse late at night, large hands clipping the perfect flower to pair with a riddle. Or him hunched over the table, tongue poking out between his pouty lips as he concentrated on writing romantic riddles The vision elicited a giggle. It just didn’t track. A nice dream, but it couldn’t possibly be real. It had to be someone else, right?

No flower waited for you when you returned home from your shift yesterday and you didn’t know how to feel about that. Did the mystery person plan on leaving you more clues or was that it? The four flowers and riddles were not nearly enough information to figure it all out, despite thinking about it constantly. So, you hoped for more.

If nothing else, you thought, knowing someone in town cared enough about you to share in your passion for the unique love language of flowers warmed your heart. You wanted to bask in that for as long as possible.

You wouldn’t dare say your life in Jackson was boring – really, it was anything but that – rather, this mystery was a variety of excitement and intellectual stimulation that you hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. Shame that you sucked at riddles, though. The grand effort was almost wasted on you.

These thoughts occupied your mind all morning as you readied yourself for another day spent in the greenhouses. At first, you couldn’t figure out why you were hyper fixating on it all. It hit you suddenly, the reason you enjoyed the notion of this secret admirer. You were lonely and longed for something… more.

A hint of movement on the porch, spotted from the corner of your eye as you sipped a cup of coffee, drew your attention. Your body moved for the front door before your mind kicked into action and wrenched the door open to find a flustered Ellie staring wide-eyed up at you. Bent over with her hand on another flower left on your porch, it appeared you caught her in the middle of something.

“Good morning, kiddo,” you greeted with a curious smile. “You’re up and about early this morning.”

Standing up straight, Ellie rubbed her hands on her jeans and stepped up to stand next to you. “Uh, yeah. I was, um, coming to see you. Wanted to know if you needed help in the greenhouses today.” Gesturing to the flower, she added, “This just caught my attention before I could knock.”

The explanation sounded reasonable to you, and you had no reason to distrust the sweet teenager. Bending down, you scooped the flower up. “Sure, that would be great. Why don’t you swing by after lunch. I have a few things you could help with.

“Great!” she exclaimed, an octave too high, before clearing her throat and going for a more subdued response. “Sounds good. So, um, looks like you have a secret admirer, huh?”

You laughed. “That seems to be the word on the street. I keep getting lovely flowers, but I have no idea who’s sending them.”

“You can tell me all about it this afternoon. Maybe we can figure out who the mystery man – or woman – is.” Ellie raised her eyebrows a few times in quick succession, drawing more laughter out of you.

“Alright, kiddo. Get outta here. I’ll see you later.”

Once Ellie jogged away, you turned your attention to the flower in your hand – a large blossom, with creamy white petals. A magnolia, the very symbol of perfection. As always, you held it up to your nose, breathing in the floral fragrance that held a spicy punch underscored by a hint of musk.

The note, written in that same nondescript print that you were beginning to love, read:

Moments with you, the answer rings true.

“I’m not doing it again, Joel!” Ellie shouted, barreling through the front door breathlessly. “She almost caught my ass this morning!”

Seated on the couch, enjoying a moment of peace with a cup of coffee on a rare day off from patrol, Joel jumped as the door slammed against the wall, no doubt leaving a dent in the drywall for him to fix. Hot liquid sloshed in the cup, and he winced as a few drops spilled over onto his hand. “What happened?”

“Your little girlfriend opened her door just after I placed this morning’s flower on her porch.” Joel frowned, fearing the jig was up, but Ellie waved him off. “Don’t worry, your cover hasn’t been blown. Yet. I made it seem like I was coming by to talk to her and just found the flower.”

Impressed, he asked, “Do you think she bought it?”

Rolling her eyes, Ellie glared at him. “Of course she did. You doubting my acting skills, asshole? I’m stuck helping her in the greenhouse this afternoon because I couldn’t come up with anything else quick enough, so thanks for that.”

Relief washed over Joel. He wanted to see this plan through, to show you there was more to him than meets the eye, that there was depth to his character and he’s capable of being romantic and thoughtful. “Cry me a river, kid. A little hard work’ll do ya good.”

Ellie huffed, turning to head through the house to her backyard apartment, but not without a parting shot. “Yeah, well, it’d do you good to grow a fucking pair of balls and just ask her out already!”

“Is that so? Have you asked Dina out yet” Joel shouted back, not letting her have the last word. He smirked as the back door slammed closed.

The pattern continued over the next few days before it suddenly stopped. And no matter how hard you tried, you could never catch the culprit in the act, leaving you as clueless as ever to their identity.

On Tuesday morning, you received a beautiful iris, a particular favorite of yours with the classic fleur-de-lis shape. In your eyes, the answer lies, the note read.

Tuesday evening, a vibrant red lily waited for you as you returned from the greenhouses. The soft, subtle scent a marked contrast to the fiery petals. The note especially fitting for such a flower: Lost in your beauty, the answer is a duty.

A small bouquet of pink lilacs awaited you on Wednesday morning, their relaxing fragrance wafting through the kitchen as you placed them amongst the others. Longing for your touch, the answer means so much.

No flower arrived on Wednesday evening, but a eucalyptus greeted you as you left for work Thursday morning. It was an odd choice, you thought. And you had no idea where it might have come from – you didn’t have any in the greenhouse. The note didn’t make much sense to you either, but it fit the pattern of the others. Evergreen thoughts of you, the answer is in the dew.

The final flower waited for you Thursday evening. You ran a little later than usual, getting caught up in planting some of the flowers you received that you didn’t have among the existing greenhouse collection. As you worked, you found yourself questioning when someone would have snatched some of the flowers gifted to you. The mystery person had a gentle hand, none of the plants were damaged and blossoms were taken from clean cuts. Whoever it was, they respected the flowers and you enough to be careful as well as stealthy.

After completing an inspection of the flowered plants in the greenhouse, you knew which one would find that evening, having spotted the evidence of recent trimming. A salmon-colored rose, the hue a lovely shade of pink, with the softest petals. When you arrived home, your fingers gently rubbed a petal of the rose, savoring the silky texture, as you read the accompanying note. Remember my love for you, the answer is in you.

Something told you the rose was the culmination of the floral adventure, that no more flowers would be placed on your doorstep. On Friday, you moved the flowers and the corresponding riddles to the dining table, arranged in the order you received them. Writing the most relevant meanings for each new flower on the accompanying note, you hoped and searched for some defining clue with each new flower, but still nothing.

You needed help.

“Should I be worried that she hasn’t figured it out yet?” Seated at the bar in the Tipsy Bison with Tommy, Joel began to worry that his plan wasn’t working out as he, well, planned. His biggest fear being that you didn’t return his feelings, he hadn’t accounted for you not putting the puzzle pieces together.

“Nah, we came up with awesome clues, brother. She just needs to put it all together,” Tommy replied, taking a large pull from his drink. Swiping the back of his hand over his mustache, he added, “Maria’s over there now, nudging her in the right direction.”

Joel nodded, sipping at his own whiskey.

“The bigger question, I think, is what are you going to do once she’s figured it out? Please tell me you have a date planned after all this pining.”

“I have somethin’ in mind,” Joel said. “I think she’ll like it.”

“Oh yeah? Ya gonna tell me or is that a big secret too?”

“I’m gonna take her to the ol’ botanical gardens we found – the ones where I got some of those flowers. It’ll blow her mind.” Joel smiled at the thought of you seeing the gardens for the first time. It was a long ride, and the gardens were an overgrown mess, but you’d still be in awe of the plethora of flowers.

Tommy stared at him, amazed at both the lovesick look in his brother’s eyes and the romantic nature of the date. He’d never seen Joel like this, never knew him to have a romantic bone in his body, but it looked good on him.

“You sure are gettin’ sappy in your old age,” Tommy teased, unable to help himself.

On Friday night, determined to solve the mystery, you and Maria combed through the clues over a bottle of wine.

“Ok, let’s just start from the beginning and go over every detail for each flower,” Maria suggested. She arrived with a legal pad and pen in hand, remnants of her old life as a prosecutor. Adamant that the answer had to be right in front of you, she took notes as you reiterated each flower, its meaning, and associated clue.

You cracked open a second bottle of wine as you stared at the information on Maria’s notepad.

Jasmine – love, romance – Joyful moments shared, the answer lies in the air.

Orchid – love, thoughtfulness, charm – Overwhelmed by your grace, the answer hides in this place.

Eustoma – appreciation, admiration – Endless thoughts of you, the answer is in the view.

Lavender – devotion, serenity – Lost in your scent, the answer is present.

Magnolia (white) – perfection – Moments with you, the answer rings true.

Iris – hope, trust – In your eyes, the answer lies.

Lily (red) – love, passion – Lost in your beauty, the answer is a duty.

Lilac (pink) – intense love – Longing for your touch, the answer means so much.

Eucalyptus – strength – Evergreen thoughts of you, the answer is in the dew.

Rose (salmon) – desire, excitement – Remember my love for you, the answer is in you.

Reading it over and over until the words blended together, rearranging themselves until it the answer made itself clear.

“Holy shit! I got it!” you declared excitedly; eyes still focused on the clues as your heart pounded in your chest.

“Fucking finally,” Maria mumbled under her breath, but you didn’t catch it. A little louder, she said, “Ok, show me what you got.”

tbc

Smut in the next part, I promise!

[grison-in-space]

Man, Robert Kaleski really is a great counterexample to that whole "the lone autistic eccentric, immersed in his dogged study and obsessions, is the genesis of truth!" trope that you'll sometimes see "aspie supremacists" trot out as part of a justification that autistic (or ADHD) people are Better, Actually.

My good bitches, sometimes what happens is simply that dogged pursuit of one's own pet theories blinds us to the truth of corroborated sources, experimental evidence, and hypothesis testing.

Just because someone is autistic and fixated on a special interest doesn't mean they're right about it. Sure, you can see how someone might look at Dalmatians and cattle dogs and come to a conclusion that some of one might have influenced the other. I reckon that by the 1930s, when the first appearance of the Dalmatian lore appears, Kaleski had enough exposure to Dalmatians to know that they are all born white or almost white and develop the characteristic spots as they grow—just like his beloved heelers develop roan and speckles as they grow. Dalmatians are all almost certainly homozygous for a modifier mutation adjusting the expression of roan that is not found in cattle dogs, but Kaleski can be quite forgiven in the 1930s for not knowing that: the study in question only came out last year. However, he might easily have realized by inquiring to kennel clubs, a Dalmatian club or breeder in his country, or simply perusing various books of British dog breeds — a self admitted enormous pastime! — that his timeline of a dog breed standardized in 1890 being infused to any great degree into his familiar cattle dogs before he personally would have observed evidence of the cross in 1904, after nearly twenty years of studying cattle dogs, is impossible.

Unfortunately, despite his careful observation of things that he felt confirmed his theories about dog function and evolution, he failed to look for any facts that were difficult to reconcile with them. Scholarly study of natural history would immediately have poked holes in his frankly batshit bonkers theory that bears were descendants of Tasmanian devils while dogs and cats derive from thylacine. Miacis was discovered in 1872. Cuvier had famously and correctly identified marsupials as a parallel clade to placental mammals a full century before, in 1816. There was abundant information available to Kaleski with which to test his theories about natural history and the known consensus of the evolution of his local Australian fauna.

Special interests encourage us to absorb, collect, and integrate information that might not strike a neurotypical person as interesting. But there is absolutely nothing about that interest which protects us from collecting and absorbing incorrect ideas, connections, and justifications as we amass our hoards of knowledge. We have to test our own assumptions, every step of the way.

[shimaen]

Sy shizun au

Sy transmitting as a random rogue cultivator many years before the protagonist is even born.

He starts looking for the protagonist but in the way he finds a homeless child that just looks like him, they are not the exact same, but they could easily pass as family. He ends up helping out this child, he felt strangely attached to him, bringing him to his lil cabin near a forest, one of his many hidden safe zones.

The child, Sj, comes in a package with his older brother? Yqy. The 3 of them don't start as teacher and students, much less a parental figure, Sy is not a child, but he must be just 5 or 6 years older than them, but Sy becomes a safe space, he provides them with basic necessities and more.

They grow up respecting him, and he teaches them what he knows, and could be useful. Thing is, the system determines that his work in that era is done, and needs to send Sy to fix the next problem, so one day, 4 years later after meeting his 2 lil gremlins, he goes into the forest, just a normal fauna and flora exploration for Sy, he goes alone with almost nothing, after all he is not going far, they all know this.

But Sy doesn't come back.

They wait until midnight

They are still searching by sunrise

They are losing hope after a week

They think that he must have abandoned them, it was too good to be true, but it still doesn't makes sense, Sy left most of his stuff in their little cabin, all his money, his sword, his trinkets, his fan. If he abandoned them, why did he leave all his stuff too?

They don't want to think that he may have died. It isn't fair. They would prefer that Sy just abandoned them, but they know (they hope) that Sy isn't like that. Years pass, and the plot somehow reconnects, Sj becomes a peak lord, and Yqy the sect leader, they gave up searching a long time ago and just accepted the most probable "truth" Lbh enters the story, and in one of his night hunts, he separates from the group.

He ends up in a section of the forest that looks a bit wilder, somehow more mystical. He reaches a big tree, ancient looking, it almost looks alive, and in the middle of it, there is this crystal, ancient amber filled and pumping with energy, maybe the beating heart of the forest? And there is something in the middle, a figure seemingly sleeping, it looks like his shizun, but not quite, maybe a bit younger, even Lbh doesn't realize until he has his hand pressed against the crystal, blood from his earlier wounds accidentally smeared against the amber, and the figure opens its eyes.

Haha funny au Lbh helps a really confused and out of it Sy out of his amber cocoon and brings Sy to the were they were staying just to discover that his teammates went back to the sect without him So imagine the shock of an Sj that was going to look for his student when he Sees this child carrying a full adult that seems to be unconscious, he was going to scold lbh when he actually sees the face of the man, and it feels like time stopped

[tarot-archives]

Modern AU! Laios Headcanons

He lives somewhere in Northern Europe. Laios grew up in a close knit community that’s far from the city.

He finds the people and the place to be dull since not much happens in his home. He has frequent nature walks and it started his interest in biodiversity at a young age.

His mom bought him a a travel book since he liked traveling too much as a child. His top places include those with amazing fauna and exotic food.

His top activities include: snorkeling in the Philippines, birdwatching in the Amazon, and an endless amount of food trips.

at 18, he was conscripted to the military since it was mandatory for his country. He hated every second of it and was itching to get out.

After the military, he took a break year and did various part time jobs anywhere that isn’t his village.

He went to college again at 20. He chose something with animals so general Biology. He regrets not choosing Marine Biology because of how cool the experiences are.

His clubs include culture clubs (because he likes hearing about other cultures) and photography club (his new acquired hobby).

He eventually shifted to Marine Biology and graduated BS in Marine Biology.

His main reason for shifting is venturing into the deeper waters of the ocean. He finds the fishes there to be amazing! (despite looking scary).

During his work leave, Laios will complete the to do list he had as a child. He wants to see more birds, more mammals, more creatures (but has developed an interest in eating exotic things!)

He wants to take up Wildlife Biology but he needs a masters degree so maybe after a few years.

Since joining the photography club, he takes really good pictures now. He sends them to Falin—who’s also in her own adventure around the world.

He hates octopus after trying to eat a live one and almost choked to death, landing him to the hospital. He has disinterest for cephalopods now.

AN: I wanted to try something new with laios and it’s him with marine biology. It’s just me but my school’s marine biology is really cool. they get to answer their exam, i scuba gear, while under the sea. i think laios would want that too. Also, i think marine biology fits him because he wants to explore the unexplored, humanly terrifying creatures of the deep.

[porcelain-siscon]

!! WARNING WARNING WARNING WARNING !!

!! APPROACHING HORNY DOLL ZONE !!

If there is an appropriate greeting for whatever time it is where you are, insert it here. If we know each other well and if we're close, you can call me Fauna. If not, call me Foci, as in the plural form of Focus. If you wish to name me yourself, we must be extremely close. You can refer to me with it/it's, sister/sister's, or she/her as far as pronouns are concerned

Beyond this point you will find untagged incest, untagged noncon, and untagged ageplay. There are many more things that will be untagged as well. I don't really believe in DNI lists, as I only really have a single DNI: absolutely no minors

I am a 300ish year old 9 year old doll, so I am technically over 18. More importantly, I will be your sister and you will be mine. If you are not female, you will be. If we are not related, we will be. I will stop at nothing to have as many sisters as possible

I also write. I write many stories, many about myself some about dolls in general. Many of them are on tumblr, but the easiest way to find them are in the Ao3 links below, which I have helpfully sorted based on if they are explicit or not

General Audiences

Second First Steps

A story about a doll that has trouble walking and the steps that sometimes need to be taken to give it just a bit more freedom

On the Use of a Doll as an Arcane Focus

A foreword to a treatise about a magical application of dolls

Orrery

A brief look inside a doll's chest

Human Removal Therapy

Some of the steps needed to turn from a human into a doll

Uncanny Valley

The creation of a doll and the loss of a sister

Humans Don't Look Up

A doll stargazes by default

Explicit

All in Your Head

Dolls aren't really alive, are they? So it's fine to do whatever you want, right?

Turnabout is Fair Pain

Dolls can't consent, but that doesn't mean they can't resist

Keep Playing

Sometimes giving into your desires means no turning back

Getting to Know Your Sister Doll (ongoing)

Sometimes a doll's very presence is so intoxicating that you can lose your inhibitions and give into your desires

Similarities and Self-Loathing (ongoing)

Chloe loves her sister, she just hates how she loves her

You Ruined a Perfectly Good Daddy Dom is What You Did! Look at Him! You Gave Her Dysphoria!

I feel like there's nothing I can say about this one that the title doesn't give away

Sometimes I will post works to tumblr before they go up slightly edited on AO3. These will generally be tagged with #dollposting but also #onlydolls if they're explicit

Other notable tags: #lizposting is when my headmate Liz is posting, hence the name #mysteryposting is when my other, unnamed headmate is posting, which is rare