#Nefelibata

[macsoul]

☁︎ nefelibata ☁︎

Imaginação

toda minha vida gira em torno de imaginação

sonhos e imaginação

ai de mim! se não fosse minha mente imaginativa

ela me salva desde sempre

não consigo encarar a realidade por muito tempo sem querer me matar, sem sair correndo e nunca mais voltar.

[ghstlymess]

Descrevendo paisagens

Naquela noite, nuvens carregadas preencheram o céu,

mas não despejaram uma gota d'água se quer, o clima se tornou quente e abafado como uma estufa

a insônia estava presente, meu coração estava triste por alguma razão oculta à minha percepção, minha mente se dispersou em mil coisas insignificantes apenas para não focar no vazio que me sondava

não vi as horas passar, de repente um vento leve começou a soprar, abri a janela e ali estava o dia a clarear

o vento tinha separado as grandes nuvens opacas em pequenos chumaços cinzentos e os primeiros raios de sol os pintaram de laranja, o céu estava lindamente azul, era o fundo da tela que a vida começava a pintar novamente com a esperança de um novo amanhecer.

- minhas visões

[shellsan]

Hey! So, I just binge-read Nefelibata and I just needed to tell you how much I enjoyed it, the tension between Naru and Mai, how much Mai has grown, Lin’s entire existence, how you built up the case, just everything, everything, everything.

I truly understand how much college cuts down your time and that sometimes you just can’t make yourself write an specific piece, but if you ever do continue it, I’d love to read it and I guarantee you that I’ll be one of the first ones hyping you up.

Thank you for devoting your time to create such a wonderful piece of work.

Sending you love 💖💖💖

A million years later, but this was an amazing ask to discover when dusting off this box and realising i missed so many things coming in (which i'm so sorry for😭)

This was so sweet, and I'm so so happy to hear how much you enjoyed that fic of mine that I started on a whim. 3 years later and my university/work/life balance is improving slowly and I'm writing more and more, and finally finishing that fic is on the cards, so I hope you'll enjoy it when that does eventually happen! Your support means the world to me, seriously, and hopefully by the years end, you'll get to see the conclusion to that fic at last. I'm estimating 2 more chapters for the finish, but we'll see how we go.

[nonperfect]

Cloud-walker.

Nefe era una mujer encantadora. Algunos dirían que era una soñadora incansable, de ese tipo de personas que viven en una realidad distinta pero mejor: llena de florituras, pensamientos positivos y colores preciosos. Era muy querida por su familia, amigos y vecinos.  Los días de sol, la veía en su balcón, mirando el cielo y sonriendo con una expresión de felicidad envidiable. Me saludaba,…

[maarteroba]

De Fake a Paparrucha... cómo ser un nefelibata

Escribí una breve entrada en LinkedIn, donde decía que si en nuestros idiomas tenemos palabras que ya definen una idea, es de estúpidos ir a otra lengua a apropiarnos de alguna en un afán de esnobismo o abierta incultura.Utilizaba como ejemplo una que se ha convertido incluso en un arma política y de manipulación de incautos. Me refiero al vocablo inglés “Fake”, que se utiliza para referirse a…

[dreamerpills]

hello! do u still do request can i ask if u can do yan!scp073 x scp!reader

for some details:

the reader is a safe class cause she doesn't want to hurt people and see them in pain she has healing powers as she usually heals staff or gurads who are injured and she is a total sweetheart!

what will happen if they meet? (u can add any plots and things u wanna add)

*thanks if u are uncomfortable u can decline*!

Ooo I’ve finally got an ask! Sorry, I’m quite late with this. Hope short scenarios will be okay!

consumed by jealousy once again.

Yandere Scp073 x fem reader

Warnings: obsession, implied stalking, corruption, pessimistic thoughts, insecurities, mentions of murder, jealousy

*not proofread, please do notify me if I have missed out a warning, might add some things after posting

How did you both first meet? “…”

• Cain is quite the desirable lad. He’s polite, well-mannered and crosses his legs when seated. Time has carved wisdom into the cadavers of his body; he speaks with many words he’s memorized from dictionaries and occasionally mixes up phrases from different languages.

• When you first met Cain, your sweet and kind nature allured him. He became.. curious, so to speak. Strangely obsessed with admiring you while you’d work with people. Becoming a tad bit jealous when your attention wasn't fixated upon himself. He wouldn't let these thoughts come to light. Not now anyways.

•Always, Cain offered a helping hand. Did you need any assistance carrying that heavy bag? Or perhaps you wanted a glass of water? You could always see him at your service, watching your skilled hands heal others with a passion.

How much time did it take?

“…”

• It had taken him a few months to develop feelings. Cain first believed it was a wonder, why hadn't you excluded him from your table where you would sit? Did you not find his voice uncanny?

•He had only adored you even more after that.

• He had once asked what your occupation in the foundation was, what the foundation declared your function as a cog in one of their elaborate machines. This was the depressing reality. Cain had learned not to question it. They had stuffed his mind full of knowledge to the point he swore it snapped at times, piece by piece.

• Although he had his own mental burdens, Cain would never place them upon you. Endearing innocent soul, let him kiss you to death.

Does his emotions remind him of any past experiences?

“…”

• Cain loathes the feeling of jealousy consuming his heart, it reminded him of a very dark time. Where he had slaughtered his brother out of the same envy he experiences now, just desiring to be injured in any shape or form so he could feel your fingers blessing his cold, still-beating heart and not some guard or doctor undeserving of your touch.

• A rational part of his mind was disgusted at his concerning thoughts. He justified it with a wild vigour.

How would he show his undying love?

“…”

• Sometimes you’d find plastic flowers tucked away in various places, they were always crimson-coloured Morning Glorys and Black roses with sloppy red paint in the shape of a heart. You had giggled and suspected Cain. Though you had never confirmed your thoughts with the man himself. Darling, Sweetheart Cain. Made of sugar and liquorice.

• Every time you discovered your bouquet of flowers, you noticed the hearts had been painted less messily and with more ease, the streaks of red paint precise and pristine.

• Cain felt awkward at the thought of confessing his ever-growing feelings for you. He would only admire you. How your face looked when you smiled, how you rambled about Josie the half-cat’s fluffy pelt and the most adored feature of yours, the way you’d praise him when he did a good job.

•Don’t ever let yourself think he’s going to let such a precious flower like you wilt in his needy grasp.

[meaninglessblah-writes]

trick or treat!!

I hope you don't mind some belated Mobinos for your Halloween prompt 💙

"Ruby is going to owe me big time," Jugend bemoans from the bathroom sink. The tile makes his voice reverberate through the hotel ensuite to where Alte is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"You wouldn't miss this for the world," Alte counters, watching Jugend's reflection in the mirror as the man painstakingly applies eyeliner. It's a good look on him, making his eyes pop like emeralds. Alte can't find it in himself not to stare.

Jugend leans back to inspect the whole effect, tilting his face to and fro. "She insisted," he counters, plucking a stray eyelash from his cheekbone. "Her Halloween parties are always beyond extravagant."

Somehow, Alte doesn't believe hell or high water could have prevented Jugend from attending Ruby's party.

It's good to see him letting loose, though. They're wrapping up a tiresome week of mergers and deal brokering in New York City. Kanin's due to arrive tomorrow, but Jugend had decided to kick off the festivities a night early.

Entice club's annual party seemed like the perfect opportunity for Jugend to let his hair down — figuratively and literally.

Apparently satisfied with his make up, Jugend's eyes flick up to find Alte's, drinking down the full effect of his face paint. He'd elected to go with a skull, painting the hollows of his cheeks and the tip of his nose in coal black. The bright white bones extend down his décolletage, marking out each one of his ribs beneath the cut of his open leather jacket.

Alte had joked about colouring the scar over his lung into a vibrant red bullet wound, but the chastising look on Jugend's features had killed the suggestion in the cradle. Alte still thinks he cuts an impressive figure, brown eyes glistening from the hollows of his painted sockets, hair gelled into an acceptably stylish mesh. Perhaps not as adventurous as his partner, but definitely in the Halloween spirit.

Jugend straightens from his lean over the sink, corset slipping down his chest an inch, and beckons Alte closer. "Come lace me up."

Alte approaches dutifully, taking the green ribbons Jugend offers into his palms. The laces slide like satin through his fingers. Alte makes sure to pull the bindings tight between Jugend's shoulder blades before he ties them off neatly.

It has a wicked effect on Jugend's waist, pulling the length of his torso into a seductive curve that Alte can't look away from. It takes two attempts for Jugend to catch his attention long enough to ask Alte to pass him his witch's hat.

"So you like the costume, then," Jugend summises smugly, preening under the vanity lights.

Alte slides his palms down his lover's waist, admiring the feel of the leather and heat beneath his touch. Jugend stills beneath it, cheeks growing a little rosy in the mirror when Alte presses a kiss to his shoulder. "That's an understatement."

Jugend turns to face him, green corset laces bright in the mirror's sheen. The green eyeshadow over his lashes makes his bedroom eyes look all the more pronounced when he tilts his chin down to murmur against Alte's lips, "Hurry up and kiss me before I put my lipstick on, then."

Alte winds his arm around Jugend's hips, pulling their bodies flush.

"Yes, sir."

[allergic-to-four-leaf-clovers]

what do you mean I can't stay up until my Online Father™ comes online because he's literally on the other side of the world?? so what if it's 2 am?? I'm just a silly guy

[simplenefelibata]

i just saw this, thank u, what a lovely rec! <3 thank u for your words and the summary, and the praise for the world building. really, it's an honor❤️

p.s: i imagine which subplot you didn't like bc it's been highly controversial, i had to take the risk tho, lol!!

Drarry Fic Recs!

I've written very little the past week because I've been on a reading rampage. Stating up front, I'm a speed reader. Oh my! I usually read something everyday but set it aside at night when I do most of my writing. These stories, though, just took me in and I couldn't stop. They run the spectrum from a Regency A/B/O WIP to a 580K Dystopian Voldemort wins with a Draco and Harry you will never ever forget. These fics are all on AO3. So let's get started...

Let's start Light: Seeking: pet carer for Bartholomew (four-year old rescue greyhound, no special needs) by @gallifrey1sburning (14.5K, 2020). The fic is non-magical AU and features overworked, recently dumped, lawyer!Draco. He and his previous partner had adopted a rescue greyhound (Bartholomew). The poor beast needs care during the day, walking and such. Enter dog-walker extraordinaire Harry. It's lovely and it reads true to their characters. Pansy plays a very Slytherin role in putting these two together. It's not too fluffy but is definitely sweet in just the right amount.

Follow the Water by @xanthippe74 (38K, 2020). The atmosphere the author created for this fic is so gorgeous. You can picture and almost feel the breeze of a spring day. The heat of summer relieved by brooks, forests, and rivers. It starts on a Spring day with Harry taking a long walk from the Burrow because he doesn't feel like going home. He has a boring job and leads a boring life. He comes upon Luna's house, now rebuilt into a one story stone home. He finds Draco, Pansy, and Greg visiting Luna. Soon he is coming every Saturday to work in the garden, cook, and other things as they put together an outdoor camp. The whole fic takes place on these weekend adventures and mostly outside in the fresh air as the group bonds. While this is a light fic, it is not fluffy. They are children recapturing a youth most never got to experience. So come enjoy Pansy reading romance novels, Draco singing, a promise of flying kites, spending the night in tents, and taking long hikes. Oh, and finding Love.

Strawberry Fields (bitter bites) by @eddietoz (54K, WIP 15/18) And now we come to the Regency A/B/O. I mean really, do I need to say more than Omega!Draco who was caught with the gardener in Malfoy Manor being sent away to live with his aunt and cousin in Godric's Hollow, where he quickly insults the most eligible Alpha, one young Harry Potter who is joining the Navy. Captain Harry returns five years later and the fun ensues. Well not for Harry who has had his heart broken by his childhood sweetheart. Draco, still trying to redeem himself after the incident in Wiltshire and insulting Harry, meets with Captain Potter and they devise a plan for Harry to win back his love and Draco be redeemed. This may or may not backfire. You can feel the A/B/O heat in this fic, but given the era, everything is repressed and societal norms of courting must be followed. *fans myself* The author is still updating. The 14th chapter went up a little over a week ago (update...chapter 15 just went up). I haven't found many Drarry A/B/O fics of my liking (besides Embers by @shiftylinguini), but this one is like a Jane Austen/HarryPotter/ A/B/O crossover. Delish!!!!!

Where all the Veins Meet by @saxamophone (146K, 2023) How good is this fic? It's so good I read it despite it being the usual type I normally wouldn't. I'm not a fan of depressed, 'woe is me' Harry after the war. Not that he wouldn't have problems...most definitely. I just usually stay away from depressed!Harry for my own sake. However, the author won me over on this one. It takes place right after the war and through the summer of 1998. Harry's friends are trying to support him by showing up at Grimmauld Place to be with him. They love him. But, Harry, is so confused on what is him, who he is now that Voldemort is not only physically gone but also gone from his head. He becomes...shall I say...dickish. But still they love him. He meets up with Draco by accident in a museum, and this continues. They become almost friends. Draco (on parole having to take Muggle studies) is living with his Slytherin compatriots and they aren't doing so well either. Especially Pansy. Meetings continue, trust builds, friends aren't happy (some furious) when they find out. But in all this confusion, a light appears at the end of this tunnel. Beautifully told, heartbreaking, but resiliency and forgiveness is found.

And now for the beast of a fic I mentioned up top. I'm giving two links as the Completed original is in Spanish and was just completed a few weeks ago). The second is the translation that is not yet completed and I believe will take quite a while to do so. Desolación by SimpleNefelibata (2023). Desolation translated by JhonnyBotello01. (24/67 ~200K). Here is the summary: Harry Potter was dead. The war was over. The whole (UK) Wizarding World was finally under Voldemort's regime. And Draco Malfoy was part of the most inner circle to the Dark Lord. Eight years after the Battle of Hogwarts, and with the sudden apparition of Hannah Abbott at the Manor door, Draco is faced with desmanteling all the hard truths he's learned to live with. The fic comes down to one point, Nagini disappeared before being killed by Neville and one Narcissa Malfoy has been in Azkaban for 8 years for treason (lying to Voldemort about Harry being dead). And Draco has spent 8 years moving up the ranks so he could get her released.

I'll say up front, do not come near this fic if you cannot read torture. The author gives this warning: This story takes place in a dark world. It will touch themes like slavery, torture, violence, sexual abuse, and death in VERY grusome ways, as far as detailing them graphically and explicitly from the start, with the idea to not romanticize these themes. Take this seriously.

There is a Resistance, there is an Order and there is a BAMF Harry Potter who is now a seasoned warrior. He's surrounded by the most faithful including one Minerva McGonagall and, of course, Ron and Hermione. The Weasleys, Luna, Theo,and Kingsley all play starring roles, too. On Voldemort's side, Greyback, Theo, and an OC are front and center.

When we meet up with Draco Malfoy, he is a member of Voldemort's highest inner circle the Nobilium. Draco, called by the name Astaroth, is feared by all as he is the potion and spell maker of the Darkest kind. He discovers his mother has died at Azkaban and she is his world. The only person he truly loves and cares for. He breaks. He knows the master he's been serving was responsible but his father has been blamed and is in Azkaban, too. Narcissa saw something at the end of the Battle, but couldn't be broken to tell what it was. What she knew would be the turning point for both sides. Draco meets with the Order and despite almost everyone telling Harry not to do it, Harry brings him into the fold...well kind of...

The worldbuilding for this dystopian fic is amazing. The storytelling so very very original. The characterizations of Harry and Draco, masterful. And almost every chapter will have you on the edge of your seat. There is no let up.

I will say, there is one subplot towards the end, I detested and couldn't buy into it. But when you write a 580K fic, you cannot please everyone. I stand by that this fic is masterful despite this issue.

Now, how did I, who doesn't read or write Spanish finish this fic? I read the translation version, which is terrific and then switched over to the original story and read it on my Iphone. You're given a choice there to read it in English. Okay, its a google translation which massacres each and every pronoun and translates Draco calling Lucius PaPa into Potato. LMAO. But I was so hooked, I had to know what happened. If you have patience, I advise subscribing to the translated version. If you can read Spanish, I'm highly jealous of you!

Hope you find something you enjoy reading here. And remember to comment with love on what you read.

I seriously have to get back to my writing now.

[shellsan]

hey I world like to ask are you gonna continue with Nefelibata on ao3? love it

In short, absolutely. That fic will be finished, hopefully by the end of year but otherwise at some point. It's not being abandoned.

[i-am-nefelibata]

Hi everyone!

As you know I have a PJO Oc and as for now I haven’t shown everything I have prepared for her, and the reason is that I don’t know if people will like it :’).

I really wish to show her more but I don’t know if I should draw her, write or maybe both…?

Anyway I really hope that if I decide to show more if her you’ll get to love her as much as I do <3

Lots of love, nefelibata.

[simplenefelibata]

Okay, so, first of all, it depends on which kind of fic you're writing.

I wrote this fic, and as you may see, it's so long omfg. Desolación required a lot of thought behind, so I used a notepad to structure the world. How would the Minister work? How would the hospitals, orphanages, or justice work? I wrote pages and pages of just the logistics of the world and important aspects of the story. Then, I wrote what the principal plot-line would be. Then, every principal character's storyline from the moment the fic started (chronologically) until it finished or they died, and how it'd connect to the principal plot. Then, I sketched a timeline in chronological order of the most important events. And as it was an enemies to lovers trope, I needed to write Harry's and Draco's storyline too first. Like, what would they think of the other once they reunited, or when would they start forgiving/empathizing with each other?

Once I had all of that, I finally planned what every chapter would be about. For example: Ch 1: Draco wakes up. We see his daily routine, we get brief explanations about his relationships, and see peaks of his pasts. He goes to the Minister and once he comes back, Hannah is trapped in the guards of the Manor. He tortures her. She says something about his mom. He goes to see her. Narcissa is dead.

And so and so and so.

THEN I started writing.

That's what i'm used to do in longer fics: plan beforehand and then start writing the fic. Obvs i had scenes that i couldn't get out of my head so i wrote those too (in a very drafty way just to put them out there), but i'm used to writing from the beginning to the end and not disorganized, so that way i get excited to write some specific scenes that are far away from where i start. but that's me. You may get more enthusiastic if you write the scenes you really really really wanna write.

Now, i had four fundamental things when I wrote Desolación:

1. Rage

2. Lots of free time

3. A beta reader

4. An unstoppable love for correcting

Dedicating at least 2 hours per day to write is a must, it doesn't matter if it's one hour in the morning and one in the evening. I put myself a limit of three days. Every three days I needed to have a new ch. It didn't matter if it was mid, bc then I would have the chance to correct it and I love that; putting the sauce and changing poorly written prose to something better. Ugh i love that.

Also, having a beta reader that tells you what you're doing good or wrong is great bc you look forward to them reading and giving you feedback. And, well, having a strong motive (in my case: rage) to continue and see this fic finished was what drove me to be this methodic.

So, I'd recommend to structure first. Ex: if the fic is about emotional growth, plan what the process is going to be for the characters and how it's gonna be achieved i.e actions, relationships with other characters, events outside of their control, etc. After doing the hard work you can start having fun writing without worrying about timelines or plot-holes. But that's just me. A lot of people just enjoy writing to where the story takes them. That doesn't work for me bc i lose motivation pretty easily and i get stressed when i don't have a guideline to follow with ease.

I need help from fic writers. Especially long fic writers. I need advice.

How do you write a long fic? What's your process compared to writing short ones? (More questions in the tags below).

[gwendolynlerman]

Untranslatable words (part 3)

Here are part 1 and part 2. I have also made other posts with untranslatable words in Spanish and German.

Arabic: غرفة [ḡurfa] (the amount of water that can be held in one hand), يقبرن [yaqbirna] (literally “may you bury me”, wishing that a loved one outlives you because of how unbearable life would be without them)

Bantu: mbuki-mvuki (to shed one’s clothing spontaneously and dance naked in celebration)

Dutch: gezellig (cozy, nice, pleasant, sociable), struisvogelpolitiek (literally “ostrich politics”, an evasive style of politics that fails to address problems by either ignoring them or by creating a false sense of security through ineffective measures)

Finnish: poronkusema (the distance a reindeer can comfortably travel before taking a break, around 7.5 kilometers/4.7 miles)

French: feuillemorte (of the color of a faded, dying leaf), l’appel du vide (literally “the call of the void”, the inexplicable draw of the dangerous and unknown future), noceur (someone who goes to sleep late or not at all or one who stays out late to party)

German: Drachenfutter (literally “dragon fodder”, the gift a husband gives a wife when he is trying to make up for bad behaviour), Kabelsalat (literally “cable salat”, cable clutter)

Greek: μεράκι (intense passion)

Hungarian: szimpatikus (nice, likeable)

Japanese: ぼけっと [boketto] (gazing vacantly into the distance without thinking about anything), 風物詩 [fūbutsushi] (the things that evoke memories of a particular season)

Hawaiian: ʻakihi (listening to directions and then walking off and promptly forgetting them)

Hindi: जुगाड़ (jugāṛ) (a process or technique that lessens disorder in one’s life, making it easier to manage or more convenient)

Icelandic: tíma (not being ready to spend time or money on a specific thing despite being able to afford it)

Indonesian: jayus (a joke so terrible and unfunny it can’t help but make you laugh)

Inuktitut: ᐃᒃᑦᓱᐊᕐᐳᒃ [iktsuarpok] (the act of repeatedly going outside to check if someone is coming)

Italian: commuòvere (to move in a heartwarming way)

Malay: pisan zapra (the time needed to eat a banana)

Norwegian: forelsket (the indescribable feeling of euphoria experienced as one begins to fall in love)

Portuguese: nefelibata (literally “cloud-walker”, one who lives in the clouds of their own imagination or dreams or does not obey the conventions of society), saudade (a vague, constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist, a nostalgic longing for someone or something loved and then lost)

Russian: разлюбить (razliubit) (to fall out of love)

Sanskrit: कल्प [kalpa] (the passing of time on a grand cosmological scale)

Scottish Gaelic: sgrìob (the peculiar itchiness that settles on the upper lip before taking a sip of whiskey)

Spanish: cotisuelto (someone who insists on wearing their shirt tails untucked)

Swedish: mångata (the roadlike reflection of the moon on the water), smultronställe (literally “place of wild strawberries”, a special place treasured for solace and relaxation, free from stress or sadness), tretår (on its own, “tår” means a cup of coffee and “patår” is the refill of said coffee, so a “tretår” is therefore a second refill)

Tagalog: kilig (to experience shivers and suffer pangs from strong emotions, usually romantically)

Ursu: گویا [goyā] (a transporting suspension of disbelief, an “as-if” that feels like reality), ناز [nāz] (the pride and assurance that comes from knowing one is loved unconditionally)

Wagiman: murr-ma (the act of searching for something in the water with only one’s feet)

Welsh: glas wen (literally “blue smile”, one that is sarcastic or mocking), hiraeth (homesickness, nostalgia, a longing for somewhere one cannot or will not return to)

Yiddish: לופֿטמענטש [luftmentsh] (literally “air person”, someone who is a bit of a dreamer)

[shamanfox]

The Alchemy of Lost Words

In the hush of kenopsia,

where the echoes of old syllables gather like dust,

I wander through the abditory of forgotten tongues,

their weight pressing against me

like the silent gaze of an unseen watcher.

Each word, a relic, a ghost,

a sillage lingering in the folds of time,

a scent half-remembered from a life

I can no longer place.

Somewhere, in a world where breath is gold,

I find myself unraveling—

a nefelibata drifting between the spoken and the unsaid,

feet hovering just above the xeric earth,

an exile to both air and gravity.

The brontide murmurs low in the distance,

a warning, a heartbeat, a god sighing in his sleep.

And beneath the umbrageous hush of the forest,

where psithurism whispers through smaragdine leaves,

I hear them call—

words no longer spoken,

or perhaps never meant to be.

A single touch, a breath against the page,

a syllable that coruscates in the dark—

language is alive, burning, waiting.

I speak, and the world shifts.

I name the lost, and they return.

In this moment, I am both speaker and spell,

both poet and prayer.

For words are not merely ink on a page,

but blood, breath, body.

A soul breaking into sound.

A pulse, a metanoia,

a new becoming.

And so I bleed them—

hiraeth, for a place I have never known.

Dépaysement, for the moment I realize I am elsewhere.

Lutalica, for the self I cannot define.

Aeviternity, for the space between what was and what will be.

I let them shape me,

reshape me,

until I am nothing but language and light,

spilling into the spaces where silence once lived.

For this is the alchemy of words:

to lift the dead from their slumber,

to cast a spell of meaning onto the void,

to speak the unspeakable,

and in doing so,

to become it.

Obscure Words & Definitions

1. Kenopsia – The eerie, haunting atmosphere of a place once bustling with life but now empty and abandoned.

2. Abditory – A secret or hidden place where precious things are kept.

3. Sillage – The lingering scent left behind in the air, like perfume or a fading memory.

4. Nefelibata – A “cloud-walker,” someone who lives in their imagination, detached from reality.

5. Xeric – Extremely dry, often used to describe barren landscapes or climates.

6. Brontide – The distant, low rumble of thunder before a storm arrives.

7. Umbrageous – Full of shade or shadows; dark, mysterious, or overgrown.

8. Psithurism – The sound of wind whispering through trees or rustling leaves.

9. Smaragdine – A deep emerald-green color, often used to describe nature or gemstones.

10. Coruscate – To gleam, flicker, or sparkle brightly like stars or lightning.

11. Metanoia – A deep, fundamental transformation in thinking or way of life.

12. Hiraeth – A deep, nostalgic longing for a home that no longer exists or that you can’t return to.

13. Dépaysement – The feeling of being in an unfamiliar place, out of one’s comfort zone.

14. Lutalica – The part of your identity that doesn’t fit neatly into any category or label.

15. Aeviternity – A state between time and eternity, where something exists outside of normal time.

[meaninglessblah-writes]

Hi, for the prompts, could you do number six and sladick? Thank you!!!

My pleasure! Thank you for your prompt ❤️

"Please," Dick murmurs, and bites back whatever request he might have had behind a knuckle. Slade pauses, his hands on Dick's knees, thumbs stroking the soft skin there in idle circles as he admires the young man spread out beneath him. "Speak up, little bird," Slade instructs, and reaches a hand down to grab himself, guiding his crown up the cleft of Dick's ass. Dick shivers on the sheets. "Be gentle, please." Slade huffs a voiceless laugh, amusement singing alongside his arousal. "One might think this was your first time, Grayson." The flush that settles like a bruise, deep and red over Dick's cheeks, speaks louder than any confession. Slade stills. "Grayson?"

Prompt me again!