#crystal springs FACTS

[safyresky]

the elf clauses reminded me!! I've been meaning to share THIS Crystal Springs FACT of the day for a haute minute: Jack created the Abominable Snowman to show Jacqueline how to make a sentient snowman. She then proceeded to create Frosty.

The Abominable Snowman goes by Abby and Frosty is basically her lil sibling. Frosty is a sweetheart who gives big Pillsbury Dough-boy Vibes and is just the most naive lil guy bc Jacqueline made him when she was like, four (hundred). They live in the Pole to this day and Abby is FIERCELY protective of Frosty, and ALSO of Jacqueline, which does cause problems when people are mean to her bc Abby will not hesitate, BITCH.

Frosty has to talk her down 🤷🏻‍♂️🤷🏻‍♂️

[kscribbs]

Doin a lil close-y-up-y, bc the other image was super duper zoomed out. And bc I simply cannot get enough of these two.

[theblueflower05]

Crawling Back to You

(Part Two of First Love/Late Spring)

A/N: So like, I’m really excited that you guys seem to be digging this story. I was hesitant about it just because there’s so much of my own Na’vi/Metkayina lore thrown in there. Thank you for all of the kind response.

Word Count: 8k+

Warnings: From here on out, this story will be extremely explicit. Minors DNI. If Aged Up! Neteyam isn’t your thing, please exit to your left. Let’s all respect each other's boundaries, please.

Angst. Self deprecation. Alcohol consumption. Smut. Mutual masturbation. Fingering(fem receiving). Nipple sucking. Breeding kink. Scent marking. Public sex(if you squinttttt)

Summary: Neteyam returns from his Motnaui and isn’t in much of a celebratory mood when he realizes that he’s scrapped any chance of having a mate for Fertility season…or has he? Neteyam x Reader

Series Masterlist(all parts can be found here)

Previous< First Love/Late Spring

Next>: Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea

Secret's that I’ve held in my heart

Are harder to hide then I thought.

Maybe I just wanna be yours- Artic Monkeys

The brilliant Pandoran sun beats down on the crystal blue waters, fragmenting into bursts of light under the surface of the waves.

The Motnaui is intense, Neteyam’s lean frame isn't made for the open ocean but over the months as he trained intensely with the Metkayina hunters, he gained muscle he didn't even realize his body could retain.

His shoulders are broader and thighs thicker. He can keep up with the clan, he can help row the boats without his arms giving out on him.

Neteyam hasn't felt this way since they had fled the safety of the forest. He’s useful again. He’s worked hard to regain his title of Hunter.

Warrior.

Brother of the people.

He sense’s it as they jump between the endless maze of isles. Hunting and sleeping on the beaches under the open night sky. Swapping stories around the small campfires.

They don't see him as an outsider anymore. No, he is Metkayina. All of the hunters treat him as such. Clapping his back. Embracing him tight. Sharing in the whopping joy as he makes a clean, merciful kill.

They listen to the Omaticayan legends he tells the and fill him in on the lore of the sea.

The four days out at open ocean are needed and he feels sure footed now. Knows that he will always have a place in Awa’atlu. He can't wait for Lo’ak to complete his Iknamaya next cycle, to get to feel this feeling of deep belonging. Of acceptance.

The tattoo forever etched into the the skin on his on his shoulder burns. Throbs all the way down his elbow, ends right above his wrist. The permanent swirling ink a symbol of his place among the reef.

His third birth is as beautiful as his second. He is a man, twice recognized.

Neteyam reminds himself of that fact as he sits down next to Tonowari one night. The stars are sparkling and the dimming light of the dying fire makes the hulking chief look larger than life.

Still, the younger man gathers his courage.

“I wish to mate with Y/N” Neteyam states firmly. He had been Olo’eyktan in training for over a decade back in the forest. He uses the voice he’d take on when speaking of important matters “I would like your blessing to do so, sir”

Their brothers and sisters in the hunt surround them. Either asleep at the late hour or lost to their own conversations.

Or maybe they just know not to interrupt this important exchange. They only listen in with peaked ears and envious hearts.

Tonowari’s features go stern, his strong brows pulling together “Before my T’smuke returned to the great mother, I promised her that I would always take care of her daughter as though she was my own. I love Y/N as I do my children. Do you understand that, Neteyam?”

Neteyam is nodding “Yes sir, of course”

“She is a good woman. A very important member of our community, if I allow this courtship I have to be certain that you will honor that. That you will honor her place among us, and be serious about what that means for your own”

Neteyam mules over the words, thinks he knows what they mean. He will be marrying into the royal family of the Metkayina. He will be bound by blood to the clans chief. His future children will have a claim to the title of Olo’eyktan or Tshaik, third in line should anything ever happen.

“I am very serious about her, I will work hard to give her all that she deserves. I will build us a Mauri to raise our family in. I will dedicate my life to her and the tribe” It is not a vow lightly made, Neteyam knows this.

He had never been one to be fickle about responsibility.

It’s only when the intense expression on the Olo’eyktans face shifts, a broad smile stretching across his mouth, that Neteyam feels his posture untense.

Tonowari claps him hard on the back and offers him the leather flask of strong liquor that the hunters pass amongst themselves-

“Then you have my blessing” Tonowari laughs as the younger Na’vi man almost chokes on the burn of the Kava.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

When they return to the main island of Awa’atlu with their abundant catch they are greeted warmly by the clan. The giant horns are blown, drums play rhythmically. Children scream joyously and women dance scantly clad in ceremonial drab.

Its busy and blustering but there's only one thing on Neteyam's mind.

Only one person.

The same woman who had plagued him since his arrival all those months ago. You’re as elusive as the receding tide and he had become accustomed to having to look for you. To having to seek you out in a crowd, to go searching for you.

You hadn't seen him off and he hasn't spoken to you in many days. He misses you. It's an ache that he wants to soon remedy, that he knows he’ll never have to feel again. Not with Tonowari’s blessing fueling him.

Since he was young, Neteyam had wanted to be bonded.

He’d dreamt of sharing that special connection with another individual; the way that his parents did. He craved someone to cherish him, to take care of him and in return he’d do the same for them. He itched for a woman to braid his hair, to bear his children. To bury his cock in every night and wake up to every morning.

He was a simple man with a big heart and a lot of love to give. And he wanted to give it to you.

He just has to find you first.

Neteyam tries not to worry when he can't catch sight of your petite frame. Not one peek of your long hair or seafoam eyes. He couldn't scent the natural perfume of florally herbs that always seemed to surround you-

“Neteyam!” It’s Tuk.

She collides with him hard. Many years of being a climbing post for his siblings is the only reason he doesn't topple over. Is able to catch her mid air and hold her to his chest.

He’s greeted by his family-

And only a moment passes before he can notice that something is wrong.

It’s written all over Kiri’s face. In his mothers expressive eyes and the glances his father throws him as he embraces the Olo’eyktan from across the way. Even Lo’ak gives him something akin to a small glare.

“Whatever is going on, it will have to wait” Neteyam decides out loud, slowly lowering his baby sister to the ground. “I need to find Y/N, have any of you seen her?”

Kiri’s mouth opens and shuts, as though she’s trying to figure out what to say and it frays his nerves. His legs are antsy, burning with the need to run. To seek you out- still on the high of the hunt.

“I don't have time for this-”

“Brother, wait. It is about Y/N” Kiri grabs his elbow, keeping him still.

He doesn't like her tone.

Likes the expression on her face even less. She looks too serious, it doesn't suit her at all. Kiri had always been as airy as a tree sprite- carefree and bubbly.

Call it a gut feeling or the simple ability to read the room. He just knows whatever she’s about to tell him isnt going to be pleasant.

“What happened?”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

His sister pulls him aside, into the mangrove tree’s and away from prying eyes and ears so that she can relay what she’d heard. Fill Neteyam in on what he’s missed.

He listens to every word…and they settle like stones in his stomach.

“Y/N thinks that you have accepted an offer of courtship from another woman”

“I didn't- I’d never!” Neteyam hisses in protest, shaking his head. It’s all one big misunderstanding. He has to make find you, shake these thoughts out of your head. Make you see-

“But you did,” Kiri replies firmly, her mouth pulled into a grim line.

She explains the meaning of the Lei’s.

The gravity of him accepting one from another female and Neteyam hasn't felt so small in many years. He’d been forced into adulthood early. Taken care of his siblings from a young age and then was thrust into the war with the RDA before he had even fully come out of adolescence. He was wise beyond his years, that’s what everyone had always told him.

He doesn’t feel that way now.

He’d fucked up, made a mistake that could very well cost him the future that he had worked so hard to secure since coming to the reefs-

And he hadn't even meant to! He’d been as naive as a baby, as ignorant to Metkayina traditions as an untrained child-

He wants to scream in frustration. Wants to kick the absolute shit out of himself. Instead he listens to his sister, his hands shaking as he balls them into fists.

You had been devastated. Heart broken. Wouldn't talk to anyone or come out to eat. Couldn’t stop crying-

“Enough” He pleads, he can't hear anymore of it. Guilt rises in his chest like bile.

Imagining what the last days had been like for you as he’d spend them having the time of his life, galivanting with other hunters. Getting drunk and having carefree fun-

“Kiri, what do I do?”

She sighs. It’s so rare to see her older brother like this. He’s always so solid. So strong and stable. It’s unnerving when he loses his composure. When his carefully built walls come down

She had known that the whole thing was a miscommunication and had tried along with Tsireya to convince you of that fact. But you wouldn't hear it, and avoided her at every turn.

You and her brother are both such stubborn dumb asses. Rubbing at her temples Kiri prays to Eywa for strength. Sully’s stick together.

“We fix this”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As the evening eclipse starts and the sun disappears in the sherbert sky the beach lights up.

Bonfires roar, their flames tall and burning bright.

The air is filled with the smell of roasting Paokpak(island boar) and fish. Huge pots full of dishes that Neteyam had never seen line the long wooden table set up at the center of the celebration. Barrels of Kava have been brought out. The strongest of Metkayina liquors, brewed and stored for decades in airtight containers. Made from berries that are extremely hard to harvest.

This is a time for celebration, to gorge on the hard earned harvests the hunters have brought back. To celebrate the newly rited adults and prepare for the Fertility Season.

The beat of the drums is hypnotic. It's sexy and primal. It's a tune that all Na’vi know in their chest, one that their hips move to as if of their own accord.

Children play, Women sing, stories older then the briny deep are told. The air is electric; so full of magic and unity.

And yet, Neteyam is on edge.

He had been since his rude awakening earlier in the day. He’d spent his afternoon running around like an Austrapede with its head chopped off. Desperately trying to solve the issues that he hadn't meant to create.

After hunting down the culprit to all of this mess, a pretty lei made up of sunset orange lilies which he’d given to Tuk almost automatically after it’d been given to him, he returns it to its owner.

Seychelle is haughty. Rightly upset and shrilly confused as she takes the token of her affections back. Neteyam’s apology is poor and he knows it, he backs away before she can throw her drink in his face.

Tsireya had told him this was the only way to remedy the issue- to refuse the offer for courtship so that he could be open to be with another. The younger girl had been so relieved when he came to her, begging her to help him win back your affections.

“I knew you are a good man, that you don't have a mean spirit”

Tsireya is as eager as Neteyam to see her cousin happy. She doesn't think she could spend another night listening to your inconsolable weeping.

The last obstacle is the hardest.

You refuse to be anywhere near him. Are forced into the festivities because of your family standing, but pretend that Neteyam simply does not exist.

At every turn you evade him.

Sandwiching yourself between the hulking muscle of Ao’nung and Tonowari at the buffet table. Dancing in an enclosed circle of swaying women. Flitting away in a plume of smoke when he approaches you with your favorite ripe fruit in hand; leaving him standing there stupidly. Palms stained by the juice of the Lionberry as he squeezes it in frustration.

You’re hauntingly beautiful in the firelight.

He hates the fact that he’s not the only who notices it. The way the other males consume you with their carnivorous gazes makes him sick. His fingers clench and his knuckles crack of their own accord.

Long dark hair pours down your back in bouncing waves. The top that you wear clings to you like a second skin; the pearls and seashells glittering in the warm hue of the flames. Your own Lei, pink and pristine, is still resting on your throat. Many intricate bracelets and anklets clink as you walk and he cant take his eyes off of the way that the back of your tweng sits on your pert ass-

“Go talk to her” His dad suggests gruffly as he watches his son watch you. It’s getting hard to stomach at this point, all of that longing palpable and souring the atmosphere.

“She doesn't want to speak to me” Neteyam mutters. Trying not to feel too bad for himself. And failing.

Neteyam hadn't thought his return from Motonui would be like this. He’d envisioned a lot more kissing, and alot less moping.

“Woman aren't as complicated as they seem, son. You don't need some grand gesture-”

“Says the man who tamed Toruk after his first fight with his mate” Neteyam interrupts and Jake snorts at his unusual outburst.

His eldest son is usually so very put together- it's entertaining to see that a woman could bring out this side of him.

“I have nothing to offer her. Back home in the forest I could have given her- everything” Neteyam sighs as he admits what's been on his mind since he’d begun pursuing you “There’s no reason why she’d want to be with me, I’m aware of that”

Jake pulls his son close.

His first born. The apple of his eye. Neteyam was good to his core, and anyone who knew him could see it. Jake was so proud of him and wondered if this lack of self confidence came from the fact that he probably didn’t tell the boy of that fact enough.

“All that girl wants from you is reassurance. That’s all you need to give her, everything else will come with time. If she wanted to mate for status she would’ve done it long before you got here, kid. ”

Jake had been shitty at motivational speeches since his stint in the military. You would think his time as reigning Olo’eyktan would have given him some kind of skills. But still, his words are a bit clunky. But sincere.

After a moment, Neteyam gulps at the Kava in his hand. Drains his cup and then squares his shoulders before he’s off.

Eyes set unyieldingly on the prize.

Jake grins. If a good ol’ pep talk doesn't do it- liquid courage sure will.

You’re half heartedly participating in the conversations going on around you, just distracted enough that Neteyam’s able to stalk over. Unnoticed until he’s standing right infront of you-

“Y/N” His voice is firm, he wonders if you know how hard it is for him to keep it as such. “I see you”

Up close he can see how swollen your eyes are. How exhausted you look. You just nod, muttering out a quiet “I see you” in response.

Everything about your body language screams that you want to be left alone. Your arms are crossed over your chest, your ears tipped low. Your tail curls around your ankle and your nose keeps scrunching up.

He wishes he could let you be,

But you make him selfish. You bring out a side of him that wants to take. Has to be satiated or he’s going to lose his fucking mind.

“I must speak with you” He states his intentions, clear. Ignores the way Ronal glares daggers at the side of his head.

“I don’t think-”

“It will only take a moment. But I ask for the privacy to explain myself to you. If after you hear my words you still do not wish to talk to me I will respect that”

You glance at your family before responding to him. Sharing a look with both Ronal and Tsireya. Your cousin smiles encouragingly, your aunt gives a barley tolerant tilt of her head.

You sigh and nod, but step away from his hand when he offers it to you. It's an obvious rejection, but Neteyam tries not to dwell on it. His tail flicks anxiously behind him.

“We may speak in private. Come” your voice is low, before you begin to lead him away from the festivities. Down the beach until the firelight is in the distance and the beat of the drum is a low hum on the howling wind.

The storms will start soon. The sea is choppy, the clouds rolling in and the breeze cool.

It’s hard to find privacy on the sandy shores, intertwined couples can be found scattered along the waters edge. Lips locked. Speaking lowly and intimately.

Neteyam is pretty sure that one of his fellow hunters has his mate twisted into a mating press- if her breathless whimpers are anything to go by.

He avoids their writhing bodies, ignores the way it makes his own core tingle.

Fertility Season is all but here. The entire clan falling under its low boiling energy.

All he could think about as he had been out on the open ocean; is that this cycle he wouldn't have to spend it alone.

He’s not sure that is the case anymore.

After more walking, completely in silence, the two of you come to a mostly desolate area. Quiet and still, as private as it’s going to get.

You stare out at the cresting waves and Neteyam knows he needs to say something, anything. But all he can to is look at you.

At the way that the moonlight illuminates your silhouette, at the dusting of turquoise bioluminescent freckles that are scattered across your nose.

“I-Um-” You start, and that wont do. He cuts you off quick.

It is only him who needs to explain himself. “Let me start by apologizing to you. I am so sorry, Y/N”

You appear as though you’re going to start crying and if you do, he’ll lose all his carefully cultivated cool.

So he presses on.

“I had no idea that accepting Lei’s was a courting symbol here. I don't know how to make you believe me but if I had know I would’ve never-” Neteyam lets out a long shaky breath “I can only swear to you that in the future I will be more mindful of your clans traditions”

Time ticks by. The moon shines and the waves crash against the shore.

“Our clan” you break the silence, your voice gentle and melodic. “You passed your Iknimaya. It is your clan as much as mine”

He wants so desperately to hold you. He has for months, but the need is almost unbearable at this very moment.

“If I have lost my chance. Please, tell me now” it’s a plea. Because it hurts to look at you. If he can not have you- if you do not want him, he will accept it. Somehow. But being alone with you like this and not knowing is killing him. “I will…I’ll leave you alone, if you want me to”

You scoff, not looking away from him. Refusing to meet his eye, still staring blanky at the waves. “You act as though I am the one who accepted someone else’s offer. I have never wanted you to leave me alone, Neteyam”

“I’m sorry” Does he sound as idiotic as he feels? He surely hopes not.

“You already said that”

“Please, look at me”

“I can’t” you whisper- hissing at him warningly when he outstretches his hands “I- I don't want to ever feel like this again. You need to tell me what you want from me because I do not know. I will get confused again, if you do not tell me what we are doing”

He can tell by your expression that you are serious, and even so. He cant fucking believe it. Had he failed at courtship so immensely that you really don't know? He’s stuck in his head for a moment too long.

It makes you anxious, makes you back even further away.

“Please-” He’s all but begging, yet

you avoid his touch again and it feels like blades.

Your shrill warning hiss rings in his ears.

He returns it with a snarl of his own when you continue to refuse to let him touch you. Can't help it, the need to rebuff all of this uncertainty around the union that is so special to him is strong.

He grips the top of your arms, his long fingers holding your biceps.

You finally look at him. Your round eyes wide and vulnerable. Filled with unshed tears and unspoken questions.

“I want to mate with you” He starts because if you need to hear it all, word for word, then he’d tell you. “I want to build my life here with you by my side. I want us to have a home that will never know war-”

A tear rolls down the swell of your cheek.

“I-I want you to choose to be with me” He swallows, the lump in his throat getting bigger, higher. Threatening to choke his vocal cords “I will be good to you. If you let me”

His family had always required him to be the rock. Had leaned on him to take on the role of caretaker, he had had to keep it together. Keep them together. It wasn't easy for him to break open like this. It went against his very nature, all that self preservation he’d learned early.

But you need this. And he thinks he might too.

“Neteyam-”

“I will ask you again. If I have lost my chance tell me now”

Have mercy on him.

“I understand if you want to be with someone who can offer you more. I won’t fault you for it” he doesn’t know why he feels the need to tack that on. Why the self deprecating thoughts manifest their way into words that hurt for him to speak “I don’t have much here. But I’ll build it, for you”

Your muscles tense under his palms and he prepares himself for the rejection. The physical blow of it-

But then, you melt. Loosen. Your entire body sags fully into his grip. That pinched expression on your face slips away. Your full lips part and your eyes soften, brows furrowing together.

You look at him like he is something precious. Like you can see him- and he thinks you might be the first one who ever has.

He’d known it in his bones. Since the day he’d arrived. Since he’d first spotted your face in the crowd.

“Oel ngati kameie” you whisper, your hand coming up to cup his jaw. “Oel ngati kamei, Neteyam. I see-”

He leans heavily into your hand. His forehead clunking against yours, pressing hard. The contact stings, but its welcome. He needs it.

He needs.

“I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care what you have or don’t have. You know I don’t.” you murmur urgently, he can feel the words against against his skin.

When you press a whisper light, tentative kiss against the sharp of his cheekbone, something snaps. Something that had been strained and barely held together just breaks.

His control, he realizes as he crowds you.

As his fingers dig into your arms and he presses the line of his body against your own firmly.

You’re so soft everywhere. So much smaller than him. He’s all lean muscle, tall and hard. You’re pliable skin, a layer of blubber to keep you warm in the deep. So different from the women he’d grown up with. Your hips are wide, thighs pillowy.

You’d give him healthy children. His hindbrain howls.

When he captures your lips he hopes you realize that there’s no going back. That this is until death. He’d go to his grave before he was robbed of this again.

You gasp, sweet and small, and he eats it. Consumes all of the air in your lungs. You’re good at holding your breath anyway, right?

“Neteyam” you whine, pulling away, your lips wet and your pupils wide. You’re shaky, already a bit disoriented and he wants to keep you. Protect you. He’ll give you anything if you just keep looking at him like that.

“Are you ok-”

You reach up on the tips of your toes, slamming your lips back against his before he can finish his words.

Your hands tangle into his braids as you try to gain traction, pull him down to your level. Get a better hold on him.

Its intense, dizzying. You kiss him like you’re dying and maybe you are. Maybe you’ve been slowly dying since he first got here. Every moment that you hadn’t been able to be held by him had killed you- a slow torturous death.

You drag him down. Do you know he’d follow you anywhere? Under the waves, down onto the soft sand. He cups the back of your head, shelters your neck as he bullies his thin hips between your dense thighs and pressed you against the ground.

The months worth of tension isn't released gently, because it can't be.

The kisses are bruising. Wandering hands and desperate tongues. It’s carnal, Fertility season making both of your minds cloudy as you try to dig into each others flesh.

Nothing is close enough.

With a whine, your fingers slip under Neteyam's multilayered choker. Using it as leverage to tug on as you thrust your hips up violently. The heat at the apex of your legs grinding against his covered erection dangerously.

“Ah-” he gasps wetly “Easy, Narlor. Easy”

“Sorry” you simper, panting. Trying to get a hold on the feelings rushing through you. One hand gripping his necklace, the other slipping into the back of his hair, brushing the nape of his neck “I want- I dream about it all the time”

Fire rushes down Neteyam’s spine, both at your words and your feather light touch to his kuru. He wonders if you touched yourself after those dreams. If you had to take the edge off like he had. He shudders at the thought-

You’re kissing at his neck again, at all of that sensitive skin under his braids, near his ears.

Your quick touches are everywhere. Rushing all over his body. Manicured nails scraping over his skin-

“Ugh,” he warbles out as your curious hand disappears under his tweng.

Its a tight fit as your fingers dance along his hard cock. Delicate and teasingly light. He’s going to come all over himself like some inexperienced teenager that had never gotten a taste of pussy before if you don't. Slow. Down.

“Tell me about those dreams of yours. What’d we do in them?” Neteyam teases, his lips moving against the corner of your mouth. A distraction for both you and himself.

You can't form words, not as you feel how big he is. As you cherish the fact you’ll never be empty again. He's hard and pulsing in your hand and you want him inside of you. Your mouth, your cunt. You don't care. You want to be the only one who gets to feel him, no one else can ever-

There’s only one way to ensure that.

“Tsahelyu” you whimper, “Please Neteyam. Need it”

He slows down a bit, his head spacy but not totally lost. The bond is everything. It’s the most important aspect of Na’vi culture “I can't bond you here”

“Why?” its a petulant whine, your hips pressing against his again.

“I’m not going to bond you on the cold ground, Yawne. Out in the open”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind” you press and he chuckles, shaking his head “you could have me anywhere you want me”

It’s the raw honesty in your voice that drives him crazy.

Devotion in a way that makes him lightheaded.

He can't give you Tsaheylu yet, he wants it done right. He wants you tucked in a mountain of blankets with a warm fire going- at the height of Fertility Season. The ancestors watching over you as he intertwines himself into your soul for the rest of time.

“I will have you” He assures you, dragging his mouth across your clavicle, his long fingers working the strings of your intricate top loose “And you’ll have me. But you have to let me do it right”

You hate waiting. You tell him as he suckles his way across your chest. Moaning as he finally gets his mouth on your soft breasts. Your fist his braids, shivering as he feasts on your skin.

“I’ll make it worth your while” Neteyam promises between mouthfuls of supple flesh “You’ll want for nothing. I’ll give you anything”

He’s humping down into you, unable to stop his hips from shifting. His cock seeking your warmth. You’re right there, he could just-

“Please” you shiver, like you know what he’s thinking. Like you can read his mind and all the dirty thoughts that cross it.

You can't take it. All of his hesitating.

You’d heard that the Omiticayans were more reserved, more traditional when it came to mating but he was going to drive you crazy.

You push on his chest. Gentle yet demanding.

He doesn't want to remove his mouth from your breasts but he allows it all the same. His lips swollen, a thin string of spit connecting him to your tender nipple as he stares at you with questioning eyes.

Neteyam lets you push him off of you before he goes down onto his back, the sand grating against his shoulder blades as he lays flat. You grin the entire time. Your eyes sparkling with excitement. With hunger.

You look as horny as he feels and it kills him.

Your fingers pluck at the at the delicate ties of your tweng, loosening it until it falls from your curvy hips.

“Y/N” he warns as you then reach for his own. Tugging at the leather straps of his loincloth. He raises his hips, helping you shimmy it down his long legs.

“You can't bond me” You whisper as you straddle his waist, your small hands using his broad chest for balance, palms on his pectorals “Not yet anyway”

“Mhmm” Neteyams murmurs as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You're hot and dripping wet, the center of your legs steaming as you rub it against his groin.

“That doesn't mean you cant touch me” you coo at the man under you as you slowly begin to undulate above him. Your hips circling as your head lowers to tongue at the underside of his jaw.

“Shit” He curses in English, gasping at the night sky as you drag damply across his lower stomach .

“Yes?” you question him as you reach for his hand, leading it exactly where you need him most.

“Yeah” Neteyam assures, fingertips dipping where you're skin is plush and dripping- right in between your spread thighs “Yeah, Yeah”

Your hand is still leading his, cupping him firmly against your pussy as he feels how much you need him. You hadn't been the only one dreaming of this. You had danced behind his eyelids for months. His brain had played tricks on him, desperately splicing together mismatched audio in an attempt to conjure up what you would sound like when he finally got to have you.

A shivery keen escapes you when he presses on your swollen bundle of nerves and nah. His imagination couldn't hold a candle to this.

It’s not just how you sound its how you look.

Sat on top of him, resting on your knees with your chest bare save for that brightly hued Lei. Your kiss bruised bottom lip is skewered between your sharp teeth as you worry it in keyed-up concentration. Blue eyes low, your long eyelashes almost fluttering against your cheeks as you stare down at him.

It’s how you smell.

Ripe and earth wet- his mouth floods as he inhales lungfuls of it, your juices are all over him. His waist, coating his hand . Everywhere but right on his tongue where he wants it the most.

Exploring you where you’re the most vulnerable is slippery, your pussy swollen as he traces along the folds. Your clit beats with your pulse under his touch, inflamed and you cry out.

“Awe, baby” he tuts. Your hips chase him in jagged little movements, unsure and needy and it’s enough to get him grinning. You’d been so sure of yourself when you’d pushed him down and climbed on top of him.

Yet here you are a whining mess of his thing in his lap.

There’s no room to tease, he wants to watch you come all over him. Everything still feels too over sensitive. Too new and easily breakable. You’d spent the last near week questioning his feelings.

Neteyam had his words. He could wax to you poetic until your ears bled,

But he had this too. He needed to make you feel a way that no one else could and as he sunk his long digit inside of you he realized that this was better then any conversation. This felt like the most natural way to express all of his emotions, you sucking him in knuckle deep felt so right.

Velvet soft and vice tight, he’s hard between his own legs from just the feel of you. Just knowing that this was his.

You, your heart. Your body. Your tiny little cunt.

Tiny but taking him so well, not just one finger. But two. Then three. Your body moves like the crashing waves behind you, intense and wild. Shoving down onto him so hard that his wrist starts to ache with the demanding press.

“More” you pant wetly into his neck “Faster. Net-please”

He figures out that faster means harder, and harder means he has you all but vibrating on top of him. Bouncing in time with every thrust of his digits. The arm that isn't preoccupied comes around you to hold you steady as he finger fucks you until you're a squealing mess.

This isn't the first time Neteyam has done this.

There’d been girls back home. One girl in particular that didn't take it too personally that he needed tension relief from the war raging around them and not the arranged soon to be wife that everyone had been trying to shove down his throat back them.

This isn't the first time he’s done this but it’s the first time he’s felt this.

He nuzzles your head out from its hiding place in his shoulder. He has to watch your face, needs to see the way he’s making you fall apart.

This is the first time he’s felt the all consuming pull to be with another person. He wants you like this always. So close to him that he could taste the perspiration from your panting breaths.

You tighten up in his arms, going rigid as your pleasure crests. Your pussy fluttering and mouth gaping. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You’re orgasm is ethereal, raw and fervid.

It’s a glance at Eywa. He sees the great mother on your face as you writhe atop of him.

It’s alot, he can tell. Fuck he can only imagine what you’re feeling if it had been this intense for him. Neteyam lets you hide again after a moment. Your hair covers your face as you shake and he thinks you might be crying, but he just brushes a hand down your damp back. Soothing you back down from the high.

The stars are brighter, even as the clouds gather in gluggy gray storm clusters. Everything seems a little bit more beautiful with his fingers still inside of you. It pains him to slide them out, missing the tight clutch of you once his wet fingers are exposed to the cool night air.

Tsaheylu, you’d begged him earlier. His kuru throbs and gooseflesh erupts all over his body just thinking about bonding with you. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything.

You nuzzle against him, nosing at his cheek. Your lips ghosting at the corner of his own.

“You okay?” you wonder. Your voice deep and husky. So sexy it makes his eyes close for a second.

“I should be asking you that”

“Mmm, no need to ask. I feel so so good” you assure him, starting to sit up a little “I um-I kind of got really into it. I’m sorry”

“Sorry?” Neteyam questions, keeping his grip on you as you start to squirm. Not in pleasure this time. But in shame, the embarrassed kind. Coming down from the pleasure haze, that anxious edge comes back. Unsure even as you’re on top of him. “Don’t say that. Why would you be sorry right now?”

You huff, nose scrunching. Ears flicking “I made a mess all over you”

It might not be very nice but he can't help but laugh at you. His pearly white canines on display as he hoots, the belly laughs jostling you from your perch.

“What!” you grumble, but smile all the same. “Stop”

“Hmm. I love messes like this. Feel free to make messes like this anytime” his fingers, still glistening come into view as he brings them to his mouth. Your eyes widen, glued to him. At the slight suction of his cheeks as he licks them in earnest “See. Easy clean up, you’ve got nothing to worry about, Pretty”

You taste as good as you smell. His tastebuds tingle as he swirls the new flavor around. Complex; a sweet musk that he wants to bathe in. He’s acutely aware of the way you watch him, your sweet cheeks burning at his lewdness.

When he frees his fingers with a pop, he gasps as your tongue surges in his mouth.

Tasting yourself on his spit.

Fuck.

He lets you kiss him breathless. Lets you run your sloppy kisses all over his face, down his chin. Across his neck. He arches into it all, gives you all the room you need. He’s well aware of what you’re doing. Working your strong scent into every inch of his bare skin.

Scent marking is a vital part of Na’vi courtship. Ancient, ritualistic and respected. Practiced by your ancestors before the first songs.

It’s makes something in him pur, knowing that you want him to smell like you.

“I think that's enough” He grins when your tongue dips into his navel “They can smell me, baby. You did a very thorough job”

The pout on your face is beyond cute as you sit up on your knees. The little ‘hmph’ sound so adorably out of place in the highly sexually charged situation “But I wanna smell like you too. How will anyone know I’m yours if they can’t smell it?”

Neteyam's nostrils flare. His ears swivel on his head and his tail gives a good lash at that. You want to be marked by him too. Are willing to parade his scent around all of those assholes in the clan that have been trying to win your affections, even when it was clear you were uninterested.

“Lay down” It’s an order, spoken softly but directly and you follow it at once. A giddy smile on your face as you lounge on the sand.

You are a vision.

Hair sprawling and messy behind your head. Your legs spread, back arched. Pretty nipples pebbled hard and on display. The only thing covering you is the floral necklace around your svelte throat.

It doesn't take him long at all. He strokes his striped cock firm and efficiently. Too many years of having to get himself off fast enough not to be caught has made his practiced movements almost perfect.

You’re looking at him like that again. Adoration clear as day on your face. Soft for him. You see him-

“Ol Ngati Kamiel” your voice is saccharin as you speak and he grunts violently as he comes.

Ropes of it land on your belly, across your exposed chest. It’s almost too much when you reach down swiping into the translucent, sticky, mess and start rubbing it into your smooth skin. He collapses shakily beside you, needing to collect himself for a minute before he helps your cause.

It’s the most intimate thing the two of you have done all night, laying together. Basking in the afterglow. Your scents mingle, dancing together in the evening breeze and Neteyam wants to imprint this memory somewhere deep.

The festivities are still raging- and you really do need to get back. It’s an important night. Your clan wants you there, the two of you need to make your rounds. Keep appearances. He won’t keep you from your duties, no matter how much he may want to.

After a quick dip in the ocean, removing the filth of love making but still wearing the strong scent of each other's pheromones, you begin to redress.

Neteyam watches. Highly distracted as you shimmy back into your tweng before looping your top around your shoulders. He works clumsily at the leather of his loincloth.

“Wait-”

The two of you are starting the trek back to the bonfire when he reaches out to halt you. His fingers play with wreath of lilies around your neck and his eyes bore into yours pleadingly.

The smile you give him is more radiant then the silvery moons that twinkle in the inky sky.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Even at the late hour the ceremonial bonfire still crackles with life. The festivities have ebbed into something slower, more intimate.

The adults of the clan are all that’s left, children long gone and tucked into their beds or dozing off against their parents' side.

Kiri sits on a carved log, in a circle of familiar faces.

Her mother and father had left not long ago. Tuk had been fighting slumber but succumbed after the Elders crooned a particularly slow song about the Sky and Sea’s forbidden love. Jake had hoisted the young girl up and bid everyone adieu, swaying on his feet as his wife hissed at him about how after all these years, he still couldn’t handle his liquor.

Now, Kiri listens to stories as she sips slowly on her cup of Kava. Enjoying the pleasant burn;

But not willing to end up like her dumb as rocks brother who is sprawled on the ground. Lo’ak is all but unconscious, every time he opens his eyes they are unfocused and hazy.

That’s what he gets for trying to out drink clan members twice his size. He’d been on the losing end of the drinking competition from the start- he was just too stubborn to see it.

Lo’ak is lucky Tsireya doesn’t care much for drinking, and is more than willing to tend to him. She keeps trying to force him to drink water and nibble on bits of food.

Ao’nung isn’t faring much better; he stares at the moon with a dopey smile as he sings, incredibly off tune, to the song that fills the air. A gaggle of girls surround him. Each hoping to catch his eye.

It’d been an all night thing, affections being thrown at him while he ignored it all too easily.

“My bed will be full this season, I’m not worried about a thing” he’d shrugged it off when asked about it.

Roxto’s boisterous laugh had dwindled down when Kiri shot him an extremely unamused glare.

She’s debating on leaving Lo’ak to sleep on the beach for the night when out of the shadows comes her eldest brother; who had been missing for most of the evening.

The hours had bled away and Kiri had tried not to worry too much about the confrontation that was going on just beyond the jovial bubble of the Metkayina celebrations. You had been distraught and Neteyam had never been good at voicing his own emotional needs-

Huh.

It looks like she had nothing to worry about.

The grin on Neteyam’s face is shit eating. It’s the smuggest she’s ever seen him. Even at his first Inknimaya, back with the Omiticaya, he hadn’t reacted like this. All head raised high and walking on a cloud.

You tug him along behind you, you guys’ fingers tightly intertwined. Your hips sway excitedly as you bounce along the sand. Kiri’s brother's chest is puffed out in obvious pride as he follows your footsteps.

Around his neck is Lei made up of vibrant pink flowers. It matches the one in your hair, that sits kind of lopsided now.

As the couple gets you closer, and Kiri catches a whiff of your approaching bodies, she wants to wretch. You’re drowning in each other's scents and it’s quite obvious what you had been up to all night.

“So gross” Kiri gags in accusation once you’re both in earshot.

You two owed her so big. She thinks naming one of your future children after her would suffice.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Okayyyyy. This was so fun to write and I already have Part Three brewing! TAGLIST IS CLOSED.

So like. Lots to address here. Tons to talk about. I’m gonna start the conversation but I hope you guys continue it in the comments.

1. The Motnaui is something I completely made up(…yes after watching Moana and taking inspiration for the name) lol it’s a ritualistic hunt that newly anointed hunters and warriors go on after their Metkayinan Iknimaya’s. I know all the different clans Iknimaya traditions would be different and I thought this would be cool.

2. I read a story in the Avatar fandom where the liquor they drank was called Kava and it just stuck in my brain. I know Kava is a drink in real life too, but for the sake of storytelling, please think about them as completely different things. The drink in this story is more of a wine/moonshine mixture deal. Would really fuck your ass upppp.

3. Fertility Season is obvs totes made up. Why is it rainy during it? Because I myself would want a week of non stop loving making with a nice little fire going, under lots of blankets with it chilly and rainy outside. And at the end of the day I’m writing for me lol

4. NETEYAM IS A SWEETHEART WHO STRUGGLES WITH HIS SELF WORTH JUST LIKE THE REST OF US. Please listen to the Artic Monkeys while you read this chapter(wanna be yours, do I wanna know, 505. THE LONGING)

5. Expect more POV’s to come! It will always be mostly rooted from Y/N’s point of view but I love touching base with all of the other characters. It’s so fun. I’m thinking a snippet of Neytiris in Part Three!

[delirious-donna]

There’s A Girl In My Tub [Part Two]

story summary: Your best friend lets you crash at her place over the spring break since you have nowhere else to go. Little did you know that it isn't actually her place. Instead, it belongs to a tall (grumpy) hot guy who finds you in his apartment–her brother.

chapter summary: Kento walks in on a woman he doesn't know neck-deep in his bath. What is he meant to do now?

pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader

warnings: reader described as having hair that can be put in a ponytail, SFW

Part One | Series Masterlist | Part Three

The mistake was clear from the second he lunged inside the bathroom. Where he had presumed to find his younger sister submerged in his tub, sat a woman he did not know splashing and spluttering from both the shock of being jump scared and the bubbles that shot up your nose.

Kento wasn’t sure what his predominant emotion was, whether it be complete mortification for interrupting someone bathing or indignant anger at the complete stranger using his apartment like some kind of luxury hotel.

“Who the fuck are you?” The stranger half yelled, half spluttered.

Realisation dawned on him like icy dread spider walking up his spine. What had meant to be a practical joke was no longer looking so funny.

“You’re not Karin…” He said matter-of-factly.

At this point, he was simply stating the obvious. What he found interesting was the comprehension that he could see illuminated in your eyes. You might not be Karin, but you knew who she was. The connection between the two of you was what he needed to establish next, or well… after he found out your name.

“I’m Nanami Kento, and you’re in my bath. Who are you?”

His eyebrow cocked in a mixture of continued annoyance and the first hint of curiosity. Given that you were familiar with his sister meant you weren’t some crazy intruder, not that he thought that in the first place given your luggage in his room and the fact that you couldn’t have gained access without a keycard and code.

You offered your name in no more than a timid squeak, and he didn’t recognise it. He huffed a tired exhale and turned towards the door to give you a modicum of privacy. His mouth opened to speak, but you beat him to the punch, silencing him effectively with your more confident tone.

“Look, can we not hash this out whilst I am naked in your bath? Give me ten minutes, and I’ll meet you in the living area,” you enthused, hands gesticulating wildly. It sent a flurry of bubbles into the air which Kento watched before giving a curt nod of agreement and stalking out without uttering another word.

He needed a drink in the worst possible way, even if it was only early afternoon. It was going to be entirely necessary to indulge in his top-shelf liquor to help with his current predicament.

Once more, he glanced at the haphazardly packed case open on his bed. This time studying the contents a little more closely. Perhaps he should have considered doing this earlier, as one glance was enough to confirm that even the style of clothing was so unlike his sister, not to mention the stuffed animal, which he guessed resembled a bunny rabbit despite its ragged appearance. Karin hadn’t been one for stuffed toys, preferring dolls and the pretty furniture to fill ornate dollhouses growing up.

Speaking of his dearly beloved sibling, Kento fished his phone from his pocket as he made his way back to the kitchen. He cradled it between his ear and shoulder whilst selecting a crystal tumbler and a bottle of scotch. The ringing went to voicemail. Of course, it did.

“Karin, call me. I don’t appreciate surprises, and you owe me an explanation.” He kept it short and sweet, his specialty. He pushed the phone across the kitchen island and turned to lean his back against the pantry door.

What the hell was going on? He mused silently, swirling the dark amber contents of his glass before bringing it to his lips and swallowing a healthy mouthful. The liquor coated his teeth and burned his throat as it slid into his mostly empty stomach.

Everything had happened in such a rush that he couldn’t even picture your face as he waited. He hadn’t thought to get a good look at you, not when the circumstances were so intimate–vulnerable even. Not for the first time today, his palm scrubbed down his face. What must you think of him? You were this–he floundered for a moment in thinking of how to accurately describe you–young woman, naked and trapped in a room with one exit. An exit that he had blocked with his body.

He groaned, pressing the cool crystal tumbler to his temple and rolling it across his forehead. This was exactly the type of situation you saw in horror movies, except he wasn’t some crazed killer on the hunt for young virgins or any young women for that matter, but he would understand if you were fearful of him. It would only be logical.

As if summoned by thought alone, the soft pad of your socks alerted Kento that you had finished with the bath. He glanced sideways, eyeing the simple black leggings and an oversized sweater emblazoned with the logo of Karin’s college, and some pieces of the puzzle fell neatly into place.

Your hair was mostly dry except for the ends that had been splashed by the unexpected dunking they had received, the strands tied loosely into a ponytail that softened the stern expression plastered across your features.

Standing with the kitchen island between you as if it afforded you some semblance of protection, Kento tried not to smile when you folded your arms across your chest and tilted your chin in his direction. The sleeves of your sweater engulfed your arms so completely that only the tips of your fingers showed. He admired your courage in the face of a stranger, a male one at that, and one that could likely impose his height and weight against you if he so inclined. Sure, he admired it, but it was also incredibly dumb.

“Did you enjoy your soak?” He asked, taking another sip of scotch to hide the quirk of his lips.

Your eyes narrowed. Damn, he hadn’t felt amusement like this in the longest time. Some would claim that he didn’t have a funny bone in his body, but they were wrong. Kento simply didn’t entertain cheap humour, and this situation was far from bargain basement.

“I was. That is until this massive oaf leapt inside screaming like a maniac and scaring the life out of me.”

That was enough to wipe the smile from his face. Kento straightened and set his tumbler down. He ran a hand through his hair and endeavoured to end this charade right here and now. To hell with the fact that you amused him, he didn’t know you from Adam.

“How do you know Karin? And I am not an oaf, for the record,” he added with what sounded even to him as a touch of petulance.

You rolled your eyes. “She’s my friend, maybe even best friend, actually. We go to the same college, different majors though. How do you know her? Are you her dad or something?”

It was Kento’s turn to narrow his eyes. He could see it for what it was, a direct jab at him, but you didn’t truly believe he could possibly be her father, or at least he hoped not!

You picked at your nails whilst the silence lingered on. He debated whether to rise above your petty attempts at riling him, but something stopped him. Kento was the level-headed one, always reasonable, however, something about you crept beneath his skin.

“Can’t be that much of a best friend if you don’t even know that she has a brother… that would be me, by the way. Hi. I’m the brother, and this is my apartment. I do hope this is some kind of elaborate joke.”

Sure enough, his aim was true. Your face crumpled at the truth he laid out so cruelly. Instead of feeling some sense of triumph for gaining the upper hand, he resigned to the guilt settling heavily in his chest. He almost rubbed at his heart but stopped at the last second.

Why did he care? That’s what he really wanted to know. Yes, you were cute. He was a man after all, he could appreciate your soft feminine features, but he was hardly known as a man who sought out the company of the opposite sex often.

Kento pinched the bridge of the nose. It was upsetting to watch you fold in upon yourself like this, your shoulders hunched inward and your head bowed low. He cared, and that was surprising. He wished for that spark of confidence to ignite again, longing to kick himself for being the one to douse it in the first place.

“I’m… I’m sorry. That was cruel of me, but you did call me her dad!” He tried to rationalise his outburst, and he was glad when your head snapped up to scrutinise him. “We’ve started on the wrong foot. Can you blame me for acting a little irrational? I’ve never found an intruder in my home before, let alone a naked one in my bath. Why are you here?”

Without a word, you stretched out a hand for his near-empty glass, swallowing down the remnants in one gulp. You hissed through your teeth, dancing on the spot whilst the potent alcohol slid into your belly to warm you. Kento cocked his eyebrow but chose to remain silent.

He had so many questions. Why you were here in his home was curiously not at the top of the pile, but it seemed inappropriate to be querying your age and probing your interests at this point in the conversation. Not to mention, you were his sister’s friend, nothing more.

Nothing more, Kento.

“Well, your darling sister told me this was her place, and that it was empty right now. Clearly, neither part was true, and I will be taking that up with her as soon as she answers her damn phone!”

“Hm, so Karin is avoiding your calls too. Curious.”

You blew out a long breath, the strands of hair framing your face dancing around and… Kento glanced away, refusing to acknowledge the desire to fix them behind your ear.

“Aren’t you on spring break? Why aren’t you shacked up in some overly loud and raucous resort? I’m certain that’s where Karin will be right about now.” Kento rolled his eyes at even thinking about it. He well remembered his years in college and how he loathed this time of year. It was his idea of hell.

Scrunching your nose in distaste, you walked around the edge of the kitchen island and hopped up to sit yourself closer to him. Again, he cursed your trust. He could be lying to you. He could have nefarious intent. So why did it make him want to protect you all the more?

“No thanks. I’d rather catch up on some classes and prepare for the new semester, but…” You trailed off, eyes lowering to your fingers which continued to fidget incessantly–an annoying habit he noted.

“But what?” Kento got the sense that he wasn’t going to like your answer much. He braced for it, both palms flush on the marble countertop and coaxing you into maintaining his steady eye contact.

“I don’t have anywhere else I can go. My parents are renovating, and I can’t afford to rent a place for two weeks, at least not somewhere actually habitable.”

Kento froze as the weight of your words washed over him. There was a chance that Karin was truly being a good friend since she had been aware of the business trip he was meant to be on right now. It would be so like her to help out a friend in need.

Was he meant to toss you out on your ass? He was within his rights, of course, but could his conscience allow it? It was obvious you weren’t lying or exaggerating to gain his favour, you looked just as uncomfortable telling him the truth as he did hearing it. This whole situation was a mess, and he didn’t see a clear way out of it.

Well, shit…

[chaedomi]

LITTLE MERMAID

SUMMARY . unable to witness your death a second time, your sister desperately strives to change your fate, even if it meant ridding of others to prevent it.

CHARACTERS . ARIADNE VALENTINE

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female child reader, platonic, ooc, violence, abuse, death, unhealthy relationships (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 1.8k+ / MASTERLIST.

LETTERS . i have only read up to chapter 17 in Becoming The Villain's Family when this idea just spawned. so, the timeline in which i wrote this fic will focus more so on the scenes in the beginning.

HERE’S A fun fact. Did you know that if you were to encounter a Mermaid, the higher the chances are of encountering a Siren as well? In addition to the creatures viewing each other as family, because of a mermaid’s delicate nature, sirens are naturally possessive of them. They become drunk and hypnotized by a mermaid’s affection, and thus, diligently fulfill a mermaid’s desires to preserve the shine they thrive off of. It’s an interesting tale, to learn the charmers become the charmed. However… if The Mermaid were to ever fall, so will The Siren as their main source of warmth has died. They will descend into madness and become the hostile nature they are known for or even worse, willingly succumb to the hands of death.

In the past, both you and your half-sister, ARIA, led a pitiful life. Throughout your years, your stepmother would force your sister to consume a potion, rendering her speechless, whereas yours will gently hug you, encouraging you to always remain neutral. It was confusing and painful, as it seemed those were the only moments your mothers cared about you both. Your stepmother, quiet as a mouse, and your mother, apathetic as a heart of stone.

During those times, you and Aria were grateful for each other, more so Aria, as she would cling to your tiny body crying and trembling while you tenderly kissed her cheeks and wiped away her tears.

Eventually, the truth came to light when you were the age of five, and your sister, ten. Through the season of spring, your mother passed, inclusive of your stepmother, who apparently went mad and took her own life after hearing of your mother’s death. By eavesdropping on the maids, it was then you both learned of each other’s identities, Aria, a Siren, and you, a Mermaid.

Sirens, gaining the name of the ancient monster, that flowed through your stepmother’s blood, through their songs, they possessed people, treated them, controlled them, and shook their emotions. Mermaids, gaining the name of the mythical creature, that flowed through your mother’s blood, through their tears, they shed milky crystals that held the power to repel a siren’s song. With those tears too, they were capable of granting grand wishes whether great or small, destructive or creative. Despite how dangerous their power was, they were harmless and good-natured.

Twelve years ago, your father had kidnapped a Mermaid and a Siren, presenting them to the world as they were originally known as myth. That Mermaid was your mother, and The Siren, your stepmother.

Your mind was too young to understand the information told and realize how dire the situation was. So, it worried you to see your sister in a constant state of panic and tears every now and then. You had asked her several times for the reason for her grief, but she brushed your concerns off each time, snuggling closer to you. And your worries slowly diminished as well as you returned the hug. Till… it happened one night when your father was unbelievably drunk out of his mind.

It was sudden, you were telling a story to your sister while she clung to you before your father barged inside the room, a wave of hatred visible in his eyes. One thing led to another and your sister was dragged outside the room by the hair. Even though you couldn’t make sense of what was happening, the sword that was tightly grasped in his hand as he took your sister away, was enough for you to spring into action. A silly game of tug-of-war it was, you, screaming your lungs out while you pulled at the hem of your sister’s nightgown, and your father, effortlessly dragging you both, to where he pleased. What it took to stop him, was the perfectly sweet voice of your sister, and the solid gems that fell from your eyes as you wept. He resembled a total madman, reaching toward you both as he cackled about the materials he could possess. You could only cry harder as your sister hugged you, burying your head against her chest.

Your lives were horrific beyond that point. Living the lives of a Mermaid and a Siren, you both were forced to mature quickly, learning and hearing unspeakable things. Becoming caged animals, you were pressured to fulfill the greed of scum. And despite all the abuse you suffered, you continued to push smiling, even when the exhaustion taking a toll on your body became more visible with each passing day.

Such a selfless soul you were too, quick to jump to others' needs instead of yours. Whenever your sister silently wept after a song, you would rub her head in comfort, sweetly hushing her as she lay in your lap. Whenever she was angry, you would squeeze her hands, attempting to calm the brewing storm in her heart. Whenever she felt as though she couldn’t make it, you would kiss her cheek, saying that she has done so well.

She, of course, soaked up every affection you provided. Too occupied wallowing in her sorrows and the comfort she will receive afterward from you, she forgot that you were also affected, dealt with the same ill-treatment, as well as that you had your limitations. So when the day arrived when you had no tears left to cry, her heart shattered.

It was a pitiful sight to witness, your sister in a mess as she cried desperately to you, begging for you to stay. You wished that you could, but the longer your head rested on her lap, and her cold hands held your cheeks, you felt more of your life fade away. So you forced yourself to cry, to shed one more tear, and it fell.

With that tear, you wished, that perhaps in another lifetime, both you and your sister could enjoy your days in endless glee, like free birds soaring in the sky.

As you drew your last breath, your sister too accepted her death, willing to perish alongside you. You were her joy, her motive to continue her days. But, when you left, so did those things. And she sang her last song, calling to whoever could come and console her weeping soul. Even when her savior came and held her in his arms, your sister’s eyes never left your corpse as she continued to sing. Maybe, if she died, she’ll be reunited with you in the depths of hell, unknowing of the white glow that shone by your corpse as she closed her eyes…

…So it came as a great surprise when she reopened her eyes not to hell, but to a lovely floral scent wafting in the air… As it dawned on her that she reverted to her ten-year-old self her head immediately snapped to the spot beside her on the bed, a lump visible under the duvets. With a shaky hand, she slightly tugged it downward… revealing your adorable face.

She almost cried there on the spot, leaning forward to press a kiss against your temple. She remembered that wish you made on your deathbed… could this outcome be a result of your wish being granted? If so, she will not take it for granted. Your father… who ruined both of your lives, she will inflict vengeance on him. She will save you from your fate no matter what it takes.

“MY YOUNG Lady, you seem upset. Is everything alright?” Dana asked, chuckling lightly. Damn right, she’s upset. And no, she’s not alright. Can’t she tell? She was considered to be weak physically, but, god, the sight in front of her filled her with so much rage that she was capable of snapping the spoon in her hand in half.

The maid assigned to you was just doing what she ought to do, heeding your commands. If you tell her to bark like a loyal dog, she will do just that and obey your orders. So, naturally, if you had instructed her to spoon-feed you the food brought to the table, the maid would oblige.

Aria's teeth sunk further into her bottom lip, listening to how you squealed and laughed in glee when the maid gently wiped the crumbs off your face, chuckling along with you. Why were you acting so sweet and loving to someone you just met? She was there longer than that maid ever was, no? She was the only one there for you when you suffered, so rightfully, whatever abnormality or emotion you may feel, she is the only one allowed to witness it.

"What is it you don't like, My Young Lady?" Tearing her eyes off the sight that sickened her greatly, she stared blankly at her caretaker, who contrasted her expression with a beaming smile. She was so focused on the scene that she hadn't realized her body moved on its own, scribbling messily on the piece of paper she used to communicate.

She slowly wrote again. “You don’t like the maid, My Young Lady?” Dana tried to hide her amusement over the situation, albeit terribly, I may add, the fingers pressed against her quivering lips a dead giveaway. “So, that’s why you have that frown… Young Lady, are you perhaps jealous?”

Jealous? The feeling inside her body burns too hot for it to be deciphered as jealousy. What she felt was a pure unspoken rage that could tip over at any given moment. Such anger she felt… was similar to the night she confronted her drunken father after she awoke as a child. In short, she didn’t want this maid to just leave. She wanted her gone. Entirely.

“Hmmm…” Dana frowned at Aria’s discontent. Pinching her chin in thought, she glanced in your direction. “The Other Young Lady does not know how to use cutlery correctly, hence why she always seeks assistance. However… Ah!” Dana snapped her fingers as a thought popped up. “Why don’t you feed The Other Young Lady instead?”

The rate at which Aria immediately perked up was comical. Eyes sparkling like fine jewels, she was practically buzzing in her seat! Satisfied that she made her Young Lady smile, Dana quickly moved to update your maid on the change of plans.

You were very confused when your maid abruptly stood from her chair, big-doe eyes staring when she stood near the doorway with a large smile plastered on her lips. But when your sister approached you, taking the spot the maid sat on to feed you, all questions vanished. You were already glad to see your sister just… there, so, think of the wave of happiness that rushed over you when she wrote she wanted to feed you!

The food served became tastier now that your sister was the one feeding you. And with a full mouth of food and eyes that glimmered in admiration of your sister, you huffed out an ‘I love you’ as best as you could. It was a bit gross to see some bits of food fly out of your mouth, but the warmth that clenched her heart from your genuineness overpowered her disgust. Smiling fondly, she wiped your messy mouth before leaning over to press a loving kiss on your forehead.

Your happiness truly is the source of her own happiness. Keep smiling for her, she will do anything to preserve it and anything for you, her little mermaid.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

[babysfirstpentagram]

Ostara, The Beginning of Spring:

Deities:

Brigid

Celtic

Goddess of fire, the home, and the end of Winter. 

Her holiday is technically Imbolc, but I felt the need to add her because she is, in fact, a spring goddess

Ēostre/Ostara

Anglo-saxon/Germanic

Goddess of Spring

This is her holiday, as it was named after her. There are myths about her spanning from Germany to England. 

Persephone

Greek

Goddess of Spring and the Queen of the Underworld. 

Her celebration of the return to the overworld is April 3rd. 

Flora

Roman

Goddess of flowers and the season of Spring

Jarylo

Slavic

God of vegetation, fertility, and springtime

He is called many different things depending on the country he is being spoken about in. 

Eiar

Old Greek

Hora of Spring

A hora is the goddess of a season.

Crystals of Spring:

Emerald

Known for its calming nature, bright green color, and the rest it takes to get an emerald shiny. 

May’s birthstone and a gemstone associated with Mercury. 

Aquamarine

A stone of rebirth, peace, and wisdom

March’s birthstone and a gemstone associated with Saturn

Moss Agate

A stone known for its connection with Earth, confidence, and creativity.

Moss agate is a stone of the Moon and of Earth.

Green Aventurine

A stone of wellness, prosperity, and abundance. 

Associated with Venus

Golden Apatite

A self help stone that boosts creativity, confidence, and manifestation. 

This stone is associated with Mercury

Herbs of Spring:

Chervil

Chives

Dill

Lemongrass

Lime leaf

Mint 

Marjoram 

Oregano

Parsley

Rosemary

Tarragon

Thyme

[moonstruckme]

Whimsical! reader with remus where they were previously doing long distance but then reader moves in with remus and sees snow for the first time? She's all :O at the snow and he's all :D at her like he's just mesmerized and thinking of how much he loves her and how cute and perfect she looks to him and how much he wants a home with her<3😩

(If you write this, can you add a bit of their ldr! Before moving in And the other boys?)

Ily! You're an actual saint<3

Thanks for requesting sweetheart! I couldn’t quite figure out how to work in the other boys without it feeling forced (at least to me) but I hope the rest is alright <3

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader ♡ 1.1k words

It had taken a lot of coaxing to get you to go to sleep the night before. You’d been glued to the window, watching with wide, awestruck eyes as little crystals drifted down to the earth, glowing under the streetlights and crisp white against the dark sky. Remus isn’t sure if he’d ever felt so peaceful, watching you watch the snow, your cheek resting on your folded hands as the darkness outside grew deeper and the fire in the grate smoldered down to nothing. You’d spent a few minutes out in it earlier, before Remus convinced you it’d be way more fun in the morning, once the snow had a chance to pile up. Even so, you’d been reluctant to let it out of your sight. 

So he can’t say he’s surprised that he’d woken up this morning to see your side of the bed already empty. 

He finds you in the same place you’d been last night, perched on the edge of the couch, looking out at the pristine layer of snow that glitters in the sunlight. You’re already dressed. 

“I thought you’d be outside,” he admits. 

You turn around, looking even happier than usual to see him. “I wanted to wait for you,” you say. “Are you ready to go out?”

Remus’ heart swells. He presses his lips together, feeling his mouth curve anyway. “Yeah, I can be ready. You should’ve woken me, dove.”

He goes to the coat closet, pulling out his jacket and a spare for you. He grabs some too-small boots, too. Neither of you had thought about the fact that you don’t own any real winter wear until the snow came in last night, so his things will have to do for now. He finds a pair of gloves Lily forgot last spring that should fit you. 

“I didn’t mind waiting,” you tell him, stepping into the boots. “It’s fun just to look at. So pretty.” 

“Mhm.” Remus can think of something else that’s pretty, but it’s too early in the morning for flirting. 

You keep glancing out the window while you tug on gloves, a jacket. He’s never seen you this excited. It’s so adorable Remus isn’t sure his heart can stand it. He plops a hat on your head and spots your hands trembling slightly, just enough to give you trouble with the buttons on your coat. Remus pushes them aside gently, doing the buttons himself. 

When you step out into the crisp air, the first thing you do is put a boot in the snow. It sinks in nearly up to your knee. You look back at Remus, wonderstruck. Then you turn around and tip back, waving your arms this way and that to make an angel in the fresh powder. He has to help you out of it once you’re done. 

He shows you how to pat the snow between your mitts to make a snowball, and you throw one right at the front of his jacket. Your laughter rings out, as crisp and clear as a silver bell. Remus makes a mental note to never let you enter into a snowball fight with James and Sirius; they go right for the face, and you’re too kind to retaliate. 

When you make a snowman, you insist upon going inside to grab some of your rocks and things to make his face. He ends up with dried flowers for a smile and heterochromia. 

It’s only once Remus realizes how much snow has ended up in your boots that he makes you go inside. He makes hot chocolate while you lay your clothes out in front of the fire and barrage him with questions. 

“Do you ever see those little white foxes when it snows like this?” 

“Arctic foxes? No, not really. I think they mostly stay in the arctic.” 

“What about white owls?” 

“I think I’ve seen some lighter ones before, but not completely white. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” 

“Will we have a fire every night that it’s snowy?” 

“If you want.” Remus sets your hot chocolate in front of you, the mug heaping with marshmallows. “Careful, dove, it’s hot.” 

You take it and smile at him. “Thanks.” You look back out the window, blowing on it gently. 

Remus grins as he watches you. Your cheeks are still pink from the cold and your eyelashes are wet, the flakes that had been caught in them melting. The air between you smells like hot chocolate, woodsmoke, and hominess. He wants to do this with you every day. 

It’s impossible not to think about how much has changed since you moved in. Just a couple of weeks ago, he would’ve woken up thinking about how long it would be until he could call you. He would’ve complained about the cold over the phone and you would’ve hmm-ed sympathetically in that gentle way of yours before admitting that the cold actually sounds pretty nice to you. Remus would have been sitting right where he is now, looking out the window by himself and describing the snow to you, hearing your voice in his ear rather than watching the rise and fall of your shoulders in front of him. 

Today, he got to wake up knowing that if you weren’t next to him, you were nearby. He got to see the delight on your face, button your coat for you, bury your hot chocolate in marshmallows. He gets to watch your damp lashes twitch, pretty eyes moving from the window to his face.

“What’re you thinking of?” you ask, turning in your seat to face him. 

It’s still too early for flirting, but not perhaps for earnestness. “I’m just glad you’re here,” he tells you. 

Your lips curve, and you take your hot chocolate in one hand, using the other to intertwine Remus’ fingers with your own. Your palm is warm from the mug.

“I’m glad, too,” you say, leaning forward to peck him on his chin.

Remus sets his mug aside to chase you down for more, grasping the side of your face as he sets his lips to yours. Fuck, you’re lovely. So lovely his chest is aching with it. Lovely inherently, and also for letting him do this, your cheek dimpling under his touch. Your lips curve against each other, a mirror image. Remus’ heart feels full to bursting. 

“Do you think we can stay here today?” you ask him, index finger rubbing against his and chin bumping into his own. “We could watch a movie, and I’d like to collect some pine cones if I can.” 

Remus presses another gentle kiss to your lips. “That sounds perfect.” His voice is raspy with want and tenderness, and you rub his finger again in understanding. 

You push your nose into his. “I’m glad I’m here, too,” you repeat.

[anthurak]

So one of the amusing realizations I had watching Unhappy Campers is that while I love Helluva Boss as a whole and had a great time with this episode (great to finally see some Millie development and see how her and Moxxie deal with conflict), when it comes to deep-dive analysis and theory-crafting I’m pretty much only interested in talking about Loona and Octavia

And wouldn’t you know it, despite spending the whole episode napping in the I.M.P. boardroom and possibly doing some dry-erase graffiti, I still managed to find something that has some pretty interesting implications for our favorite Goth Wolf.

See, the big world-building development this episode is giving us our first look at the ‘Asmodean Crystals’ that were first alluded to in the season premiere, which allow travel between Hell and Earth and seem to be the standard way that demons are able to conduct business on Earth.

However, in addition to portaling to Earth, we learn in this episode that Asmodean Crystals also allow the demons wearing them to assume a human disguise. Definitely a useful ability, and also has some fun implications going forward; namely that if/when I.M.P. starts using an Asmoadean Crystal of their own (as hinted by Stolas’s research), we’ll probably get to see full-on human disguises/designs for Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie XD

However, what I find particularly intriguing about this reveal goes back to the first time we saw demons using human disguises; Spring Broken.

In hindsight, it’s pretty easy to guess that Verosika and her crew used one or more Asmoadean Crystals to get to Earth and back to Hell in this episode. What I’m curious about is whether the same is true of their disguises? Ergo, are Verosika, Vortex and the rest of her succubi/incubi crew able to assume human disguises on their own, or were those disguises simply created by the crystal(s) they were using? And if it’s the second option, then that has some VERY INTERESTING implications.

Because guess who has been shown taking a human disguise WITHOUT the use of an Asmoadean Crystal?

Yep. Loona.

Really, if it turns out that most demons have to use external means/devices to take on a human disguise, then Loona being able to disguise herself all on her own starts feeling VERY significant.

I mean, consider the fact that the only other demon we’ve seen specifically assume a human disguise all on their own is STOLAS. Heck, given how she doesn’t use one, it seems like not even Octavia can do it.

In hindsight, the way Loona gets a flashy transformation sequence alongside Stolas may have been a way of conveying that this is actually some pretty high-level shit Loona is pulling off.

As to where Loona may have picked up this ability? Well, reading between the lines we kind of have to assume that Loona must have taught herself how to use the Goetic Grimoire with little-to-no outside help (it’s hard to imagine Stolas giving her lessons) to the point where she knows how to use it better than even Octavia. So who’s to say she hasn’t picked up a few other tricks from that book as well...?

Basically, this is all giving yet more hints that Loona secretly has a serious talent for magic, and I think that could lead to some very FUN developments/twists down the line.

[tfyoulookingatgiuxs]

Hello!

Could you possibly do a cute opposites attract for Billy Hargrove? Not like a nerd reader, more like a flower child in a way. I think the idea would be very cute and funny.

I hope you have a great day!

•Interesting. I've never written something like this but I'm determined to be happy to try. In any case, I am ready to satisfy your request again. I want to point out how the word "flower child" stuck in my mind, making the reader a true flower child, in the literary sense. I hope you like it!

Sunflower

Billy Hargrove x FlowerChild!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: The late warm spring afternoon in Hawkins looked spectacular. The flowers were blooming and the sweet breeze touched you making you feel like you were in a fairy tale. But the day had other plans in mind for you and you never thought you would find him.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Fluff, slight angst? fem!reader, no use of Y/N, your surname is Williams, bad language, opposite attract, sigarettes, daddy issue.

𝐀/𝐍: Request from @unamused-boss ,I hope I have satisfied your request! I apologize for any errors and I also hope that I have exceeded your expectations. Sorry for my english this is not my native language. Please support and reblog! Hope you enjoy this one. (DIVIDER NOT MINE)

It was a late afternoon in Hawkins. Spring had just begun and the flowers had just bloomed, coloring an isolated part of the forest forgotten by everyone. It was like an enchanted place, you had to go through the woods to get there but you didn't mind walking a bit. It felt like a real paradise, it was like your secret place. No one could get there, only you knew how to get in and you knew how to get out.

Every day after school you go there. School could be hard and going there among the greenery and flowers made you happy and let your emotions shine through.

The flowers that surrounded you were all sunflowers, a truly infinite field, with the presence of a few daisies.

You had always been a girl with elegant feminine tastes, high grades but also a strong and difficult character. Nothing could make you happier than nature and flowers in general. You had a nice green thumb, you knew how to grow and plant. This is due to the fact that your uncle worked for a long time in the countryside and when you went to visit him for the holidays there was always something new to learn.

Today you headed there once again, full of happiness. The sun warmed you as you walked through the green tall grass. You sat down, letting the fresh air and surrounding sounds carry you away. The wind, the birds singing..."Holy shit!" you heard in the distance. You reopened your eyes in confusion and saw something you never expected to see. Someone had managed to get to your secret place. The worst thing? It was Billy Hargrove.

Billy Hargrove was a boy who went to the same school as you, he was lazy, didn't work hard at school and only thought about having fun and going to parties drinking like crazy. Besides this, he was also a very attractive boy, with long blond curls and crystal blue eyes and a nice physique. In short, aesthetically he was very handsome, you couldn't deny it, but otherwise he wasn't really your type, he was your opposite, you couldn't hope to get along with him.

You hadn't spoken to him much, you had only tutored him last year to help him with his grades. Needless to say, he tried to persuade you by convincing you to do his homework but luckily you were smarter than him. Now he had improved, but it was clear that he didn't want to study or think about his future.

From the way he was fidgeting you could tell he got lost "Hey!" He screamed as soon as he saw you, most likely he didn't recognize you. You stood up from where you were sitting as the skirt of your white dress fluttered. Billy looked at your figure, you were more enchanting than ever and perhaps he had never noticed it until now. You got closer and Billy did the same thing. "Look who's here, Williams." he said sarcastically "Nice to see you Hargorve" you also added a note of sarcasm but still keeping a certain lightness in your words "You can call me Billy" he winked at you and you rolled your eyes.

To be clear. You don't hate him. You know he was teasing you and obviously you didn't get carried away by his games. He was just different and as much as you might hope for redemption from him, you had to accept the fact that Billy Hargorve was the same old bad boy who will never change, and that everything good he had is gone.

"Did you get lost by any chance?" You asked looking at the field and he took a cigarette out of his pocket and you ignored him "What do you say? Do you think I'm a guy who loves remote places?" He looked at you with an obvious look as he lit his cigarette. The nauseating smell of tobacco pervaded you while with one hand you tried to get rid of the bad smell "No, but apparently you love the woods. In short, to come here you have to go through the woods, so excuse me if I ask you, but what do were you doing there?" Billy didn't answer you for a moment, he could have said "it's none of your business" or "Don't mind any fucking business that doesn't concern you Williams" in a more vulgar way, but he didn't. Even though he could be harsh, he wasn't that bad after all and it wasn't appropriate to use such forced language in front of a damsel.

"I was... walking" he didn't add anything else while his curls fluttered a little from here to there. From his tone you felt like he wanted to tell you something, but he decided not to. Maybe he had a rough day? Or maybe he's just in a bad mood? You've started to speculate. Although curious about what that walk meant, you decided not to say anything else and responded with a simple "Okay" and then silence fell.

"And you? Why are you here? Is the little damsel lost too?" You crossed your arms at his typical womanizer nickname "Oh no. I'm not lost. I come here often" He raised an eyebrow as he blew smoke from his plump lips "Why? What's great about being here looking at nothing?" You laughed slightly "You can't look at anything! Being here relaxes me and helps me to... detach myself from reality" you said the last words with a sense of sadness.

Life could be really mean and even cruel, and the worst thing is when you have no one to ask for help. When you think that nothing can help you get up and move forward, but in the end you understand that even something abstract or something concrete like an object, or anything that is not human can help you in your difficulties. Yours was nature, this secret place of yours that you wished you had discovered sooner. Few perhaps couldn't understand what you find so beautiful in plants or landscapes, and honestly not even you could explain it. Billy, on the other hand, remained silent and looked at you and then threw his cigarette on the ground and crushed it with his foot "Nonsense, you can't detach yourself from reality" his tone was serious and you looked at his features, he was angry? No. He was injured.

"As much as you try, reality is always there, you can't ignore it, much less detach yourself from it..." he continued and then he met your eyes and let out a cough "...so, Here. I find it difficult to understand what you find here Williams, maybe you're strange" he finished the sentence as if nothing had happened, as if what he had said before didn't matter. You approached him and Billy looked at you carefully "Can't you? Or maybe you don't want to?" Hargrove looked at you as if shocked "From the way you speak it's as if you want to detach yourself from reality, but you decide not to, is it perhaps because you're more worried about what happens in reality? As if every little distraction could cause something bad than not can you ignore it?" At that moment, a face never known to you formed on the face of the boy with golden curls, a different Billy you had never seen before. It was like vulnerable...

“I'm sorry, maybe this makes you uncomfortable.” You panicked. You hadn't even realized your words let alone that maybe it might make Billy uncomfortable in some way. You tried to compose yourself and walked away, changing the subject "Now I can take you back out of the woods, I know the way to-"

“My father” you were interrupted by his voice which now seemed to have taken on a different tone “What?”

"My father i can't ignore." You didn't say anything, letting him continue "I always tried to think about other things, maybe focusing on going out for parties or going to basketball games. But when I did that, my father made my life even worse, making it total shit" the wind blew was lowered and Billy in the meantime leaned with his back on a nearby tree "You're right when you say that 'I would like to detach myself from reality but I can't' because I realized that I can't do it..." his words were so genuine, so sincere, but at the same time so suffering. It was as if the Billy you knew wasn't there. They weren't his words, yet they came out of his mouth.

Instinctively you placed your light hand on his forearm and he looked back into your eyes "It's never too late to try again Billy. Don't let just one person ruin you, because then you'll end up regretting it" you replied and then you smiled. He wasn't convinced, but you were willing to let him know. You gently grabbed his hand and he let you do it, as if he was enchanted by your touch "Come with me" you said and together you walked through what was the field of sunflowers.

"You know, the first time I ended up here I thought how the day couldn't get any worse. I was lost too. But I don't think I found a better place to be" the blue-eyed boy looked around and he was like carefree "Here you don't have to fear anything, here you are safe and not even your father can hurt you" you reassured him and your hands melted. Hargrove continued to remain silent and then sat up enjoying the wind caressing his face and simply nodded.

"Can I tell you something Williams?" You nodded "Sure" he got up and took a sunflower and cut off the stem. You felt bad when the flowers were pulled down but you decided not to say anything. He looked at it carefully and then glanced at you "You like flowers right?" You nodded again "So much" Billy continued to stare at you and then with his free hand he placed a lock of your hair behind your ear, placing the flower in the same place "Then you will know what the sunflower means" your cheeks turned red admiring Billy's face with enchantment "I'll give it to you, it suits you" your heart stopped beating for a moment when the boy with golden curls smiled at you and then walked away.

You watched his figure. The sunflower symbolized the sun, therefore the light of life. When you gave a sunflower to a person it was to tell them how sunny and cheerful they are. You didn't think Billy was capable of such a gesture or even that he knew the meaning of the flower. Apparently you didn't know Billy Hargrove for all intents and purposes.

What was it you said? "As much as you could hope for redemption from him, did you have to accept the fact that Billy Hargorve was the usual bad boy who will never change, and that everything good he had was lost?" It turns out you were very wrong.

"So, will you help me out of the woods or not?" He turned around noticing that you weren't following him "Yes" You shook your head coming back to earth "You must not tell anyone what I told you, I would like it to stay between us, clear Williams?" You nodded, laughing.

From that day on you began to see Billy Hargrove with different eyes.

[safyresky]

Now, I'm not writing these parts in, but it's very important to me that you all know. That in the final five chapters of Crystal Springs. while everything is going down. Scott is repeating the mantra DON'T ASK JACK ABOUT MY ROOF in his head, over and over, because if he doesn't he will ask about the roof, and Carol has already given him the Principal glare MULTIPLE TIMES, and 7 and a half lectures on how NOW IS NOT THE TIME

[lmelodie]

I've decided to post this a day early as a nice cleanse from the frowny shot. Because God i love them so much. I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE DAMN IT! I almost legitimately cried while making this because I was listening to the most sickeningly sweet love songs on the planet. They live rent free in my head!!

[hyunnie04]

snow falls

i hope this cute lil fic would be able to warm you up in these cold winter nights <3 my song rec for this would be PP1 by frakkur (best played while reading ^^) two quotes inspired by lsfm yunjins holiday note

summary: you and jisung play in the snow.

pairing: childhood friends! han jisung x reader

genre: fluff, one sided pinning (? perhaps...)

the night was unforgivingly cold tonight. the sun had set not long ago, leaving no more warmth to comfort you. winter had always made the sun retreat back to the clouds earlier than it used to. the roads were icy and the houses in your neighborhood were covered in white crystal sheets. but that did not stop you and jisung from going out, only wearing two layers and scarfs haphazardly thrown over each other’s shoulder.

“wait up!” cheery giggles from the two of you are muffled by the snow. footsteps trek through the white heaps, leaving a trail of shoe-shaped tracks littered all across the snowy landscape. ignoring the bitter cold that stings your lungs, you two both ran.

it was silly, sneaking off outside this late at night during negative temperatures and with barely anything on. you felt like a child again, whisking your best friend to god knows where and him just following along anyways. it was just like the old days.

upon seeing a sliver of the familiar concrete sidewalk that used to greet you everyday, you both finally stop under a tall street light. it's warm, heavily contrasting against the snowfall and the stark darkness of night. a ray of light somewhat offering refuge over your figures.

“it’s so... so cold...” he sees you shiver, rubbing your palms together in a futile attempt to warm yourself up. jisung watches you blow out a puff of air. he could see your hands pale as they get colder, pulling the ends of your coat a little closer to your body.

i want to hold your hands.

the words are lodged uncomfortably inside his throat, itching to be spoken. jisung wants to desperately say it out loud. but he doesn't.

“i wonder when is spring going to start.” you say while sighing wistfully, closing your eyes. you seemed to have stopped squirming from the temperature now. the winds roar occasionally, sending a flurry of snowflakes upwards and into the sky, as if to whisper "not yet."

he stares longingly at your solemn expression. noting- memorizing every detail of your face. his gaze lands on your lips, tight lipped and closed; opposed to the grin that he so fondly remembers loving.

it's silent, but jisung is no stranger to it. the quiet understanding between you two was something to be treasured in all those years of friendship, knowing when the other doesn't want to talk.

your eyes open, grinning softly when they land on him. jisung decided long ago that your smile is his favorite thing in the world. you see his cheeks increasingly redden as you kept staring, chalking it up to him just being out here.

jisung had a lot of friends now. he was grateful to be close with a good amount of them but, none of them understood him like you did. friends come and go in jisung’s life, but not you. never you.

a painful but welcomed constant in his life was also his feelings. the juvenile infatuation with you from all those years ago had never dwindled, in fact it grew larger and harder to ignore as he got older.

jisung follows your hand as it slowly reaches out to the sky, the tiny delicate snowflakes melt as it makes contact with the warmth of your palm.

“you look beautiful.”

a smile easily makes it out of your face as you look to him right after. his hands are practically numb, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. he hears his own heart thump loudly in his ears.

you gaze into his eyes for a second, tilting your head in question. he realizes words go unnoticed. the onslaught of snow drowns out his confession. he shakes his head with a smile. jisung decided that it was for a different day.

“you’ve got some on your hair,” you laugh, leaning in to brush away the snowflakes with your bare hands. jisung’s ears burn again from the proximity, making him freeze in place.

your hands fall to your side, upon seeing his reaction, hands twitching lightly.

both of your faces, now tinted with a rosy hue and the cold nipping at your noses. puffs of foggy air comes out everytime either one would breathe. it seems like eternity, the way you stare at each other.

“i'll warm you up.” jisung finally smiles, opening his arms wide to slot yourself in. you grin once more, diving in with much enthusiasm.

he was content in holding you close, offering the warmth you needed. maybe he’ll never really know how you feel but, jisung would gladly stand in the frigid cold, if it meant staying here with you. maybe spring would come faster this way.

[razzzzberrysorbet]

So uhhhh this is my first post lemme know if you liked it or want more!

My Modern! Atwow Headcanons!!!!!

Includes: Neteyam, Lo’ak, Kiri,,Tsireya, Ao’nung +y/n ofc 💜

(I edited this btw so if you alr read this and it’s different that’s why 😉😉)

Neteyam:

Darker skin then lo’ak

He had dreads about shoulder length

Probably has his hair tied up alot

Baggy cargo pants + hoodie/baggy tee are his go to!!!!!

Can def see him thrifting

Not really a teachers pet but is very respectful and does his work! Is a fav amongst teachers

Is probably in a bunch of advanced classes

Can see him doing track in the spring and football in the fall

Puts his jersey in your locker so you can wear it when you go to his games!!!!!!

Can he him being pretty toned and lean rather than buff

Tall😉😉😉😉

Is such a sweetheart to everyone!!!!! He loves helping people, very nice person (mom taught him well)

Can see him working at a sneaker store + lifeguarding in the summer with Lo’ak

Skincare queen 🩷🩷🩷

He loves when you come over so you guys can do face masks and watches movies (bro needs to confess already)

Is popular at school but I feel like he would be oblivious to the fact almost the whole school knows him😭

If his class is close he will wait outside of the room so he can walk you to class!!!!(so nice)

Out of all his friends he probably talks to you the most

Is so smiley around you!!!

Is so oblivious to other people’s crushes on him it’s kind of annoying

Smells soooo😫😫😫😫😫😫

Lo’ak

Is a class clown for sure 😬😬😬😬

But he’s actually really funny!!

Is best friends with like all of his teachers

Def listens to rap or soul/funk

Sneakerheaddddd

WEARS NIKE TECH U CANT CHANGE MY MIND!!!!!!!!

Light skin

Keeps his dreads short

Can see him having sum blondes pieces tooooo

He is totally a “where my hug at” and “hey mamas” type😪

Screams “AYO WHERE MY HUG AT” from across the hall way sometimes Tsireya will run away from him😭😭

Basketball + Track 😛

Probably only keeps his grades up so he can keep playing sports….

Has many friends very popular!!!!!!

His snap score is like a million 🥲

Gaslights the teachers into thinking he doesn’t have his AirPods in

Is loud…..

Is a trash talker during 🏀 fosho and is extra with celebrating

Honestly has THE WORST diet but somehow is really fit?

Checks himself out and flex’s 24/7 💪 💪

Is actually pretty famous on tiktok????

Charlie Damelio who????😍😍😍

Kiri

Earth tones on her>>>>>>

Pretend to not to know lo’ak😭

Sleeps in all her classes yet is passing???

Room filled with crystals/incense

Has like 2 or 3 close friends

Wears waist beads !!!!

Wolf cutttt

Probably dyes her hair lot

Sassy queen

RBF for sure

Is such an artsy person can see her painting and sculpting

Has her 1,000 year old beat up converses 💀

Keeps trying to get you and neteyam together!!!!!

Not super popular or into popularity tbh

Her desks are always covered in random drawings

“🙄”go to face 😭😭😭😭

Tsireya

Is actually the sweetest girl ever!!!!

Such a girls girl

Def has a big sweet tooth and alot of candy

Gifting is her love language

Does very well in her classes!!!!! Can see her doing extra curriculars too!!!!!

I see her doing volleyball and dance w/you

You and her are besties for life!!!!!

You guys have been dancing together forever!! 🥹🥹🥹🥹

Does lo’aks makeup/ he pretends to not like it but is secretly loving it

She deff loves pastels and pink!

Omg her makeup and outfits are so cute!!!!

Loves matching with Lo’ak and you ofc

People pleaser to the max just wants people to like her🩷

Has 3 or 4 close friends but she’s honestly friends with everyone!!

You guys talk one time now she’s saying hi to you everyday 😭🥹🩷

Very girlie and feminine

Her room came straight from Pinterest

Polynesian baddieeeeee

Never ever excludes anyone makes people feel so loved

Cheers for lo’ak at his basketball games

Tries to convince you neteyam is crushing on you

Sleepovers with her 😚😚😚😚

Ao’nung

Um RBF much????

Since you and Tsireya are childhood besties that means you and Ao’nung have known each other for so long!!!

Whenever you are over in tsireyas room he will come in and flex in her mirror 😒

Basketball for sureeeee

Parents forced him into learning piano and hes actually so good???

Might not seem like it but such a caring brother

Oh no?? Tsireya forgot her lunch

Don’t worry! Ao’nung already brought it!

She needs money? He’s handing her his wallet while rolling his eyes “🙄🫴💳 “

He’s honestly so protective over you

Barely tries in class but is super smart

Probably wears muscle tanks to school-

Plays basketball with Lo’ak in thier driveway

Ok but his biceps….

Quiet but known 🩷

Is friends with neteyam but mostly for your sake

Sarcastic king

Lifeguarding + teaching swim lessons

Deffffff wears puka shell necklaces

He’s pretty tall and teases you for being short

Natural smirk 😫😫

Triangle method ummmm???????😧😧😧

Always offered to get you something whenever he goes out

“Hey im going to the gas station, want anything??”

Has all of ur baby pics😭😭😭😭

Plssss ur so embarrassed whenever he shows Neteyam

(Sorry if that was long lolll)

Y/n(you)

U and tsireya do/did dance together 🩷

Omgggg there are so many videos of you guys dancing

Straight A student cuz ur a baddie

Oblivious to neteyams fat crush on you?????

Jewelry Jewelry Jewelry

Ao’nung and Neteyam probably have ur bracelet on their wrists

Ur house is THE ultimate hang out spot

You and lo’ak do so many tiktok dances together 😭😭

You always cling onto neteyams arm when you guys walk together don’t let ao’nong see🫣

Unlimited amounts of clothes…….

Y/n ur literally so popular and you don’t know it!!!!

Helppppp you have guys falling to ur knees 🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️🙇‍♂️

Lip syncing queen?????

Everyone loves you you’re so sweet and genuine🩷🩷

Ur photo album is full of pictures of all your friends

Wearing neteyams jersey to his games (y/n how have you not figured it out yet????)

I see you working with tsireya and Kiri at the mall

Dancing your whole life your so good!!!!!

AirPods in 24/7

Girl you got so many boys wrapped around your pinky how to you do it??????

Weekly hangouts with neteyammm

Omggg k ur baby pics are all over tsireya and ao’nungs house like?????

You and the girls filming Grwms😭😭

U love kids and babies (tuk)

Um imma need that workout/makeup/skincare routine pls 😁😁🤲🤲🤲🤲

(You can totally change dance to whatever sport/hobby you want I just put dance cuz I love it!)

[aesethewitch]

Personal Protection: Surviving the Holidays

I'm of the opinion that far too many people around this time of year are fucking around, and it's high time they get to the finding out part. With major holidays right around the corner, many of us will be facing relatives we'd rather not see, parties we'd rather not go to, and conversations we'd rather avoid or exit as soon as possible. Political spats, unwanted opinions, snide remarks -- I believe that what you give out, you ought to receive back.

So, obviously, let's do some magic about it.

There are three main components to my method:

The Bubble;

The Quills; and

The Shake

The Bubble

Exactly what it sounds like, "the bubble" is the outermost layer of protection around you. It's the barrier between you and the unpleasantness you're trying to keep out.

The bubble can be one item carried or worn (such as a hat, crystal, or charm), or it can be multiple. I usually spring for two items, one to absorb/recycle and one to bounce/return to sender.

Absorb:

I've got a relative who is, at their essence, a fucking downer. That would be fine if not for the fact that if they're having a bad time or are mildly uncomfortable, it's about to be everyone's problem. This kind of negativity is something to absorb, not bounce. Sending it back would only double their misery, and that's no good for anyone.

So, instead, I have a special charm that I make for occasions when I know they're going to be around. It consists of a little piece of sponge that's sat in salt for a while atop a transformative sigil. The sponge, once fully charged and ready, will absorb the negative energy and recycle it into more positive feelings.

This means that their negativity won't impact me at all, and I actively improve the atmosphere. Their bad attitude can't do anything if everyone around us is only getting good vibes. The charm is powered by the exchange of negative to positive energy, so it requires no charging. However, it's smart to discard the sponge once it's done its job.

Bounce:

But sometimes, somebody's got to face real consequences. There are some things I don't want to deal with at all. Like gross political opinions from my conservative, religious family members. Or questions about having children.

The idea of the bounce is to reflect things before they reach me. It's a sort of glamor spell that projects an aura of "don't bother." It essentially lets me be passed over for conversations I want to leave or avoid entirely by bouncing attention away from me.

Negative energy, bad vibes, whatever you want to call it -- the goal is to return it to where it's coming from. Someone who's being an asshole will feel like an asshole. If it works right, they'll stop talking altogether because they're so irritated with what they're saying. I've had aggressive, vocal relatives go completely silent because they were receiving their own rancid energy back to themselves instead of the attention they were hoping for.

For me, this spell takes the form of a charm on my keys. It's a form of an evil eye charm -- not the blue-eyed stare you most likely think of, but another symbol meant to distract attention from me to it. It's a little pewter casting of the fig sign, an old and obscene gesture. It works on malevolent spirits best, but it does a great job of repelling unfortunate people, too. It bounces their nonsense back to themselves, often causing confusion, which forces them to reconsider what they're saying.

Again, this lives on my keys, which live in a key bowl when they're not clipped to my pocket or belt loop. The key bowl has a multi-purpose charging setup for the keys, my wallet, and other assorted charms I might wear when I go out.

The Quills

Sometimes, things get past our main line of defenses. That's fine, it happens. But under these circumstances, it happens because someone has deliberately crossed a line. So now, they get the quills.

When I say "the quills," you should be picturing something like a porcupine. Adorable, yes, but fuck with it at your own risk. Those quills aren't just for show, and neither should yours be. This is your second line of defense, and it's where we turn to offense.

Accordingly, the quills aren't passive spells like the bubble. These require conscious activation and direction to give you maximum control over their output. You can make your quills passive, but I often find that baneful workings work best when you're specifically choosing to use them.

Yes, baneful, and let me be perfectly clear: The goal is to harm whoever's crossed the line. You're not just returning to sender. You're catching what they've thrown at you, lighting it on fire, and pitching it back at full force.

To that end, there are two approaches I typically take (and are you sensing a pattern? I like to do things in twos). One spell to sharpen the tongue and give as good as I've gotten, and one to induce the smallest of lingering curses on the target.

Sharpen

The whole point of the quills is to make yourself an inconvenient, difficult target. Part of being difficult to swallow is not going down easily. Often, the answer is to avoid the conversation or problem altogether, but it isn't always possible. Or satisfying.

Sometimes, you gotta take a bitch down.

For me, this charm needs to do two things. It should boost my confidence in standing my ground and add some oomph to my argument. I have a pin with a particular design on it charmed for this purpose. The needle operates as the quill for stabbing (the oomph), and the design provides the confidence. Anointed with my Fuck Off Oil and laid in a dish of salt, garlic, and red chili flakes, the pin becomes extra spicy and effective.

This one has to be recharged each time it's used. It always lives on the same jacket, but I'll anoint it regularly to keep it fresh. If I use the charm on someone, I'll take the pin off at the end of the night and set it in the spicy salt mixture.

Linger

By far one of the most effective methods for reducing nonsense from unpleasant people I interact with regularly is lingering consequences. When someone associates bad luck with interacting with you, even on a subconscious level, they tend to avoid you.

Consider this the "slow poison" on the quills. The goal isn't to ruin their life by any means (although, I suppose you could...). It's just to make yourself unpalatable on an instinctive level. Think of how poisonous frogs are brightly colored to display that they're, you know, deadly. That's what we're doing here.

I prefer to use something kind of dangerous. Something you can hold onto and point with is best, in my experience. I've used a broken piece of glass, a rusty nail or screw, and various thorns. Right now, I'm using one half of a rusty pair of old cooking shears. The handle broke, but the blades are still sharp as hell. Waste not, and all that.

Anoint whatever the sharp, dangerous thing is in an oil infused with herbs and spices of your choice (again, the Fuck Off Oil is a good example). Or, if you prefer, coat it in something like hot sauce, urine, rust, or other corrosive and unpleasant things. Once prepared, stow it in your bag. Or your glove box, if you drive, since this makes a nice on-the-go curse to cast at shitty drivers.

You don't need to pull it out for it to work, but if you can get to a safe, secluded space (like a bathroom), it can help you focus. When you're creating it, you should set up an activation word, phrase, or motion. I prefer a motion -- something like tapping wherever the object is, a swirling movement with my hand, and then pointing at the target.

The curse you place is up to you. I tend to go for something like feeling nauseous or getting a headache. The spell should draw a connection between them being nasty to you and the unpleasant feeling, whether overt or subconscious. They'll be more cautious and reluctant to be a dick to you afterwards.

The Shake

Like a dog. Get that shit off of yourself.

No matter how thorough you are, there are always gaps and particularly stubborn people getting into them. Something they say just sticks to you like a burr, sharp and irritating. Or depressing, maybe.

The idea behind the shake is literal. You're forcibly removing the heavy weight or annoying itch someone else has placed on you. The shake isn't necessarily an item like with the bubble and quills. It can be, but it doesn't have to be.

Essentially, the steps to the shake are:

Identify what feels bad

Shake that shit

Resume normal activities

Maybe it's the neurodivergent in me, but physical movement is incredibly soothing. Self-regulation tactics are essential for survival. Transforming that into a little spell ritual at the same time is just two birds with one stone.

When things get overwhelming or I can feel my bubble failing to keep everything out at once (such as if a fight breaks out or someone decides to go in depth about one of my triggers), I remove myself from the situation. That's the first step. Retreat to a safe place, whether that's outside, in my car, in the bathroom, or elsewhere that's quiet. The second step is to figure out where in my body the anxiety or bad feeling is sitting. Often, it's in my shoulders and hands, but sometimes it's elsewhere.

Step three is to fucking shake. Shake those hands, roll my shoulders, jump up and down. Whatever it takes. As I do, I'm forcibly dislodging everything unpleasant out of myself and into the open air. And because I've got the negativity-absorbing bubble, it'll take the bad feeling and repurpose it into something more positive. Then, once I'm better, I can go back.

Again, you don't need an object for this, but you can certainly create one. Options would be comforting items, fidget toys, or even something like a joint. Sometimes, you just gotta blow smoke about it. You know?

Fun fact, though: You could also carry a vessel to contain the Bad Feelings for later use instead of letting your bubble absorb them. This comes in handy for people who are particularly abusive... as an example of what you want them to experience under the force of a more involved cursing.

If you like my work, consider throwing a tip my way! Supporters get early, exclusive, and extended access to my work for as low as $1.

[superprincesspea]

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 1 - Spring

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

~~~

Though summer had not yet fledged, the stifling heat in the keep of Storms End had become intolerable for every soul residing in the castle.   

Usually, you enjoyed the warmth of sunshine and would happily sit and bask in its glory for hours on end, but this was no mere heat. This was humidity. Hot and wet, lingering in the air and drenching heavy clothes to clammy skin.   

You couldn’t escape it even when the sun went down, and everyone was miserable, too lazy to do anything more than sit and swelter and too uncomfortable to find any rest.  

You, however, had other ideas.   

You’re Father had strictly forbidden any of his daughters from leaving the keep without an escort and, even then, he did not readily allow it. But you had always been a somewhat unruly child and as a young woman you had certainly not become more obedient.   

No, quite the opposite, you’d grown accustomed to doing as you pleased regardless of your fathers demands. He had daughters enough for obedience and you had no ambition to become a well-trained pet for him or any other man.   

So, when breakfast was finished, you escaped the keep, ducking between the watchful eyes of your fathers' guards before wandering down to the pebble beach below the imposing castle walls.   

Down here was the realm of smugglers and pirates but it had been years since the caves had been used for any nefarious purposes. So, you were alone, the beach clear except for the gulls which landed on the rocks before sweeping out across the waves.  

As expected, the air here was much more tolerable if you could forgive the stink of seaweed and salt. More importantly, you could enjoy your own company while the creeping tide chased at your feet.  

It was a risky game, daring the water to soak through your shoes and you didn’t want to spoil them. You wanted to take them off and hitch up your skirt to feel the cool lick of the bay's glistening sea. How refreshing, how scandalous, how irresistible ….   

Your shoes slide off so easily as do your stockings before you find yourself tucking your skirt and chemise into the waistband of your dress.   

It’s a precarious thing, exposing the bare lines of your legs for anyone to see and, all the while, you find yourself craning your head back and forth to check for prying eyes. But you remain alone down here, and the water feels as good as you’d imagined. In fact, it's bliss enough for you to finally take pleasure in the heat of the midday sun and, like a cat rolling on a cool stone floor, you relish it.   

Ice smothering your legs while fire kisses your cheeks. The only sound is that of the waves and the occasional cry of a gull which, after days spent listening to your sisters complaining, is the sound of absolute serenity.   

In the following afternoons, your secret trips down to the beach become routine. Even though the weather is not as insufferable as before, you like the solitude and the feel of the water on your legs. But it isn’t enough, and it hadn’t taken long before you’d began to toy with the idea of submerging yourself into the depths of Shipbreakers Bay.   

What would it feel like to have salt and sand tangled in your hair? To float on the waves? To be suspended between air and earth in a crystal sea?   

Those questions have tantalised you beyond rational thinking and, if you wait any longer, it might be too late to find their answer.  

Already storms are on the horizon and when they arrive, this little stretch of pebble beach will be underwater for the foreseeable future. So, with this in mind, you’re wearing a gown that fastens easily in the front and, though the wool is far too hot for the climate, you do not plan on wearing it for long.  

After removing your shoes and stockings, you do your usual checks. Looking up and down the beach to ensure you’re still alone while your fingers dally at the knots on your dress before finally conceding to unfasten them.   

One by one, you loosen the ties while the prick of frightened delight coats your skin as the fabric becomes looser and looser before sliding to a pile at your feet.   

Without your dress, your chemise billows about as if the wind has fingers which grasp and pull, urging you to freedom. But you need no encouragement, your mind was already set the moment you woke up and, when that happens, there is little chance of dissuading it.   

You pull your chemise over your head and the wind snatches it away, sending it through the air like the sail of a ship before it snags on a boulder further down the beach.   

Your heart is in your throat as you retrieve it, wondering what excuse you could possibly imagine to explain the loss of your undergarment. The answer is none. You have to be more careful. Yet careful is the exact opposite of what you’re being.     

In all the excitement, you’d almost forgotten that you were standing on the beach wearing nothing more than a necklace which rests at the hollow of your neck, catching the sunlight. But you are naked. The breeze cool against your flesh, your nipples tightening to hard buds.   

You laugh at the absurdity of the situation just as a chill of unease ripples down your spine. If someone sees you now, it will be a scandal so terrible you’re not sure you could survive it. Yet that does not stop you from opening out your arms to embrace the air.    

It isn’t often a high-born woman or any woman at all gets to choose her own actions but you’re choosing one now. Perhaps this will be the only time you ever swim in the bay, perhaps you will hate every moment of it, but it doesn't matter. At least for a single afternoon, you can be completely in control of your own autonomy. Men take such freedoms for granted but you will savour it.   

With careful steps, you make your way into the bay, deeper and deeper until the water comes up to your chest and the cold bites harshly into your skin. You know you will grow accustomed to the temperature as you had done on previous days, so you keep moving, letting the blood flow into your limbs and the warmth return.  

When you’re ready, you duck your head under the waves without regard for how you will explain your wet hair when you return to the keep. Instead, you dive down, propelling yourself through the water until your lungs begin to burn and you’re forced to surface.  

With each dive, you can hold your breath for longer and swim further and the cold becomes a forgotten thing. You’re like a dolphin or a siren, a creature of the sea, flipping through the water with what feels like grace, and you know one thing is certain- Today won’t be the last day you’ll swim in the bay, not when it feels like this- or so you think.   

With the sound of waves crashing against the wall of rocks beneath Storm’s End and the rush of water all around you, you’d be forgiven for not hearing the beat of dragon wings as they fly overhead.   

No, too consumed by your own amusement, you don’t even notice the large shadow grazing the beach or see where Vhagar lands on a tuft of grass barely a stone's throw from where your clothes are strewn across the pebbles.  

All you know is one minute you’re ducking under the water and the next, the sun is bright on your face and a tall black figure is standing on the beach.  

A man .   

Your heart plummets, the bay choking down your throat as you gasp and inhale a mouthful of water. Perhaps letting yourself sink and float away from all consequence would be the better option, but you resign yourself to whatever reprimand is waiting for you on the beach, coughing and spluttering as you move closer to shore  

Wiping your eyes to bring the figure into focus, you expect to see your father or perhaps Ser Maurin Selmy but the person on the beach is an almost stranger. A man you have never met yet recognise by reputation alone.   

Aemond Targaryen.  

“Your Grace!” you exclaim, concealing yourself beneath the waves with little success. Afterall, he’s close enough for you to see the sigil stitched onto his doublet so you’re in no doubt of how easily he can see you- even with one eye.  

A mischievous smile lights up his entire face as he glances at the black and yellow clothes piled at his feet.  

“My Lady Baratheon?” he suggests, his manner surprisingly soft spoken yet commanding enough not to be lost against the waves, “you seem to have misplaced your gown.”   

“I was taking a swim,” you say rather absurdly, and he laughs to himself before moving closer and bending down on one knee. Not close enough to be caught by a wave but close enough to touch the water, which he does with great care, carefully removing a single glove to dip his fingers in the surf when it stalks towards the toe of his boot.  

“Far too cold for my liking but do not stop on my account,” he smirks, his good eye peering once more beneath the waves.   

You wrap your arm a little tighter around your chest as though it will prevent him from seeing the curve of your body and the rise and fall of your nervous breaths but, of course, it doesn’t. The water is like glass and your bare skin shines brightly in the sun.  

You’ve never been so exposed before, not even in front of your handmaid who only enters your room when you are already wearing your chemise. So, this is beyond anything you can imagine, and shame would have burned on your skin if it wasn’t for the cold seeping into your bones.  

“Your Grace is right; the water has grown cold. I should like to get out.”  

He raises his eyebrow, his tongue licking lazily across his lip before his smirk returns.  

“Suit yourself,” he says, standing upright and towering even taller than you’d remembered. But he doesn’t walk away, he remains rooted to the sand, the waves daring to reach out and sully the soft suede of his riding boots.   

“Your Grace?” your teeth chatter and his smile inches even deeper into his cheeks.�� 

“My lady?” he says, toying with you and seeming to enjoy every ounce of your humiliation before he slowly steps back to where your clothes are still spread on the rocks.    

Using his boot, he kicks your dress up into his hands and you think, for a moment, that he’s going to steal it away, but he doesn’t.   

He tosses it a little closer to the water, grazing your body with one last look before he turns to face the wall beneath your Fathers keep.   

In all this time, your heart has not stopped racing and your muscles are beginning to tighten painfully. Still, you wait another minute, hoping Aemond will leave altogether but he does not, and you have a choice to make.   

Withdraw from the relative safety of the water and risk being seen,  or remain in Shipbreakers Bay for the rest of eternity. So perhaps, when you think of it like that, you have no choice at all.   

Bracing yourself, with a wary eye cast towards your escape route, you force your feet to move forward. Emerging with gooseflesh and chattering teeth yet cheeks burning hot enough to rival the sun.   

You scoop up your dress, cursing yourself a thousand times over while your numb fingers struggle with even the simplest task. You can barely hold the fabric, let alone dress yourself. Yet more than anything, you curse Aemond and that’s before you notice him glancing back at you.  

You pause, breathless with fear though you know you should be moving faster, dressing quicker, running away. But you’re like a frightened deer under his scrutiny.  All you can do is stand there; the dress clamped against your body.  

He could do anything to you, and it would be your fault. You had done this. You had disobeyed your father and all sense of propriety to leave yourself vulnerable and completely at the mercy of a Dragon.   

Mercifully, Aemond’s gaze only lingers for a moment before it returns to the wall, and you move far quicker than before. Hurriedly pulling your arms into sleeves before fastening two of the strings in haphazard knots.   

Though Aemond Targaryen might be a Prince, he is certainly not a gentleman. He glances at you again but this time you’re feeling bolder.  

You blow out a huff of bad-tempered air, displeasure oozing from your every movement as you snatch up the rest of your clothes and make haste towards the slope which leads back to the keep.   

You need to get away from him as quickly as humanly possible. But your escape is hindered by bare feet on jagged pebbles. You can’t ignore the sharpness and you don’t dare to stop, leaving you to slip on your shoes in an awkward half hop as you try to maintain the momentum of your furious exit.   

Aemond, on the other hand, has no such hindrances and catches up to you with little effort, stepping into your path and blocking you again when you try to skirt around him.     

Frustrated, you hold your ground knowing that in a physical fight between yourself and Aemond, you would certainly not be the victor. But you would not cower either.  

“Will you not tell me your name, Lady Baratheon?” he asks, as though this was some ordinary meeting between strangers.   

“I think your Grace has known quite enough of me for one day!” you snap through gritted teeth, your temper growing shorter as your body grows colder.  

He laughs softly, bowing his head, “perhaps another day then.”  

You expel a gasp of complete disbelief. “I shall endeavour to avoid it!”  

Aemond’s smile broadens, and he seems surprised, even somewhat delighted by your candour as you push past him with a complete disregard for his name, his size, his strength or his dragon.   

“Then we will see who is the victor,” he calls after you, but you ignore him.   

You would rather die than ever lay eyes on Aemond Targaryen again!  

~~~

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[esamastation]

Shizuroth, in which author had a intrusive thought and instead of waking up in the Sun and Moon Dew Flower body, Shen Qingqiu Transmigrates again.

-

Shen Qingqiu hadn't exactly been expecting anything. Dirt, maybe, a forest perhaps - a clearing with a beautiful spring and impeccable Feng Shui preferably, but with Airplane-bro doing the arrangements he hadn't really put much hope into that. Either way, coming out of a plant, he figured there'd at least be soil.

Metal ceiling with bevelled corners and fluorescent lights was definitely not something he'd been thinking about. Hell, he didn't think he'd ever see fluorescent lights again! His new xianxia world didn't even have the concept of electricity, never mind making use of it beyond some lightning-based attacks, and even if he, as an immortal master, lived long enough to see technological progress, why would electrical lights become a thing when night pearls already exist? Never mind glowing talismans and various crystals and gemstones, and honestly, glowing moonlight snail worms in a lantern - and besides, the rules of xianxia basically forbid modern technology, because would it even be xianxia anymore at that point?

And that's completely beyond the point here.

Shen Qingqiu sits up, still staring at the fluorescent light in the ceiling. It's got a slight greenish hue and emits constant low hum of electricity. It looks painfully, incredibly mundane and utterly real.

Maybe it's a dream? He's dreaming of his past life. That has to be it.

Shen Qingqiu looks down and knows none of what he sees. Well, he recognises it - curtains on a frame at each side of his bed, uncomfortable looking chair sitting beside it, a metal bedside table, laptop with sorta janky angular design… Everything looks like it's made of metal, from the walls to the doors to the desk. 

It's definitely no room Shen Yuan had ever lived in. It kind of looks like a hospital bed, but in no hospital he's ever been in.

Pushing the flimsy blanket off himself, Shen Qingqiu moves to stand up, only to stop and stare at his bare knees. He's only wearing modern underwear and the fact that his legs are hairless isn't a surprise - Shen Qingqiu's body is perfectly smooth all over, of course, because xianxia - he's used to that. It's their shape that's new.

His knees look muscled. They begin from - thicc - equally muscled thighs and continue onto shapely calves, and - and who has muscled knees? Honestly, they look like something that belongs to Liu Qingge, not him! Liu Qingge would have muscled knees!

Shen Qingqiu wasn't weak, alright, he trained, he practised with his sword, he could handle himself. He was a master of martial arts too, okay! But, uh, he didn't… exactly… look the part. Nor did he want to! That kind of shape took a lot of work to maintain, and with the Without a Cure poison -

Ah!

Shen Qingqiu quickly puts a hand on his - tight, so tight, flat, faintly ripped, definitely muscled, and now that he's looking, is that a noticeable bulge in his very tactical looking boxers, holy shit, okay, not the time - belly and circulates his Qi.

Correction, he tries to circulate his Qi.

It feels like he's trying to stir a pool of fresh cement with a spoon. There's energy there - a great thick mass of energy - but it doesn't flow. It barely even reacts to his crude poking.

This body hasn't ever cultivated - and yet it is practically bursting with power.

Oh, is that how the Sun and Moon Dew Flower body works? That makes sense. Of course, it's new, so it would've never cultivated, it wouldn't have a shaped core. Honestly, he should be grateful that it has any energy at all! He might've come out of his resurrection without any power at all! Having this much energy to mould into a new core is a blessing. And his veins…

His spiritual veins feel a little burnt somehow, but that's not too bad! Probably just a side effect from all this energy roaming freely in his body. Shen Qingqiu's body has damaged spiritual veins too, he's used to working around it. And either way, the Without a Cure is gone! That's already a huge leap forward for him, even if he had to start from scratch.

Running a hand up and down his - washboard abs, holy shit - stomach, and feeling long hair - so familiar he almost didn't notice - falling down his back, Shen Qingqiu looks up and then frowns.

New body doesn't explain the room he's in. It doesn't explain the electrical lights. It doesn't explain -

A hand rips aside the left side curtain with a screech of metal rings on a metal frame, and a doctor steps into view.

It's unmistakably a doctor, with a white lab coat and clipboard, eyeglasses and irritated expression and everything.

"So, you're up," the man says, looking at him down his nose and sniffing. He takes out a pen and turns his attention to the clipboard. "Well then. How do you feel?"

Shen Qingqiu reframes his world with the swiftness of a practised transmigrator and a liar and hangs his head as though it hurts. Hair falls to curtain his face, hopefully hiding his expression. It's surprisingly pale. Hm. "What happened?"

Oh, nice, his voice is almost the same. A little lower, maybe, but familiar enough.

The doctor glances at him. "Confusion," he says and marks it down. "Not a common symptom for you. What else?"

Shen Qingqiu hesitates, unsure, and looks down at himself. He's got muscles on muscles, and his internal energies feel like a concrete truck ready for a pour, but aside from that there's no clues as to what he's supposed to say.

System? He thinks warily.

He gets the mental equivalent of a busy signal. Which is a… really weird sensation, really.

"What else?" the doctor demands impatiently.

Shen Qingqiu, uncertain, asks again, "What happened?"

The doctor narrows his eyes at him and then scoffs. "The assistant misjudged the dosage. I should've never let him handle your injection, but what's done is done. You received three times your maximum, and your body shut down briefly to accommodate."

… What? What is any of that even supposed to mean? Aside from that last point… that sounded far too familiar. "My heart stopped?" Shen Qingqiu asks slowly, pushing his long bangs back from his face.

"Only for a moment - we didn't even need to resuscitate you, your body recovered on its own - a notable new mutation, which has been added to your file, but unlikely to be very useful going forward," the doctor says, looking at the clipboard again. "It's likely only applicable to specific circumstances, and you shouldn't rely on it in the field. Blood loss will kill you eventually, even if your heart can restart itself, so don't count on it even as a last resort."

… Yeah, Shen Qingqiu has no idea what to make of that. "I wasn't planning on it," he says and clears his throat. This place and this guy is starting to give him the creeps now. "I feel fine now. Can I go?"

The doctor tsks at him, marks something down and tucks the clipboard under his arm. "Fine. Your next dose is in two weeks, on the 17th. Don't miss it."

Shen Qingqiu hums, noncommittal, and misses his fan. If these doses killed the new original goods, he's not sure he'd be taking any more, not if he had any choice. 

The doctor scoffs, reminding Shen Qingqiu for a moment of himself in a weird way - what the original Shen Qingqiu might've looked like for original Luo Binghe - and turns to leave. "Get out of here then, Sephiroth. Your clothes are in the closet in the back."

"... Thanks," Shen Qingqiu murmurs and then lifts his head, feeling his face go slack in shock. There's a strand of pale - silver! - hair in front of his face and thankfully the doctor is already out of view and can see his reaction, because, what…?

… What did the man just call him?

-

So, there was a Whole Train of Thought that brought us here.