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#interspecies
fatehbaz · 7 months
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[E]very [interspecies] meeting in fact reminds us that the being we meet is and always shall be strange to us […]. When beings meet there is a distance between, such that in encountering the slug we also encounter something beyond the slug – a multitude of life we cannot sense. [...] So despite shared histories and the close proximity in which slugs and [humans] live, the slug retains a certain darkness as a creature apart; something is held in reserve […]. And so fleeting awareness of the irretrievability of the lives of others intensifies poignancy, such that despite a gulf separating the [human] from other creatures, some connection, however fleeting, is made to something – however strange. Refusing to dismiss the everyday and the banal is an ethical response. […] Slugs are there: sliming, chomping, and oozing around quietly and that should be enough to give them consideration.
[Text by: Franklin Ginn. “Sticky lives: Slugs, detachment and more-than-human ethics in the garden.” Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers, Volume 39, Issue 4. 2013. Bold emphasis added by me.]
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So, can an insect speak? And if yes, do we understand it? Wittgenstein maintained that ‘if a lion could speak we would not understand him’, by which he implied that we do not share the ‘form of lion-life’ that would make lion language fully transparent to us […]. A similar insight was [...] expressed by [...] [a twentieth-century] honeybee researcher [...]: Beyond the appreciable facts of their life we know but little of the bees. And the closer our acquaintance becomes, the nearer is our ignorance brought to us of the depths of their real existence. But such ignorance is better than the other kind, which is unconscious and satisfied.
[Text by: Eileen Crist. “Can an Insect Speak?: The Case of the Honeybee Dance Language.” Social Studies of Science, Volume 34, Issue 1. 2004. Bold emphasis added.]
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Animal studies scholarship tends to emphasize animal-human relations, encounters, and similarities. […] Jellyfish and other gelatinous creatures [...], however, float at the far reaches of our ability to construct sturdy interspecies connections [...]. Uexkull’s theory […] insists upon multiple worlds […], a capacious admission that a multitude of other creatures dwell as part of worlds that humans cannot readily or completely access or grasp. Three-quarters of a century later Terry Tempest Williams wonders what it would be like to be a jellyfish. […] [She] writes: “Perhaps this is what moves me most about jellies – their sensory intelligence […] the great hunger that is sent outward through the feathery reach of their tentacles. Imagine the information sought and returned.”
[Text by: Stacy Alaimo. “Jellyfish Science, Jellyfish Aesthetics: Posthuman Reconfigurations of the Sensible”. In: Thinking with Water. 2013. Bold emphasis added.]
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Although we cannot ‘speak’ with nonhumans in any straightforward way, what we can and more importantly do do is become articulate with them in various ways. [...] If there is a way out of this historical impasse [alienation, climate crisis, global ecological degradation], [for some] it is not to be found in attributing some of ‘our’ qualities to ‘them’. It “would not be a matter of ‘giving speech back’ to animals […]. Perhaps the task is not to seek to compare the dance language of bees […] with human language, the ‘intelligence’ […] of Monarch butterflies with human intelligence, […] but rather (or at least in addition) to find a way of thinking about these ‘remarkable things’ that grants them positive ontological difference in their own right. […] [It] is concerned with what is always a multitude of others rather than a singular other […]; and it is radically nonanthropocentric […].
[Text by: Nick Bingham. “Bees, Butterflies, and Bacteria: Biotechnology and the Politics of Nonhuman Friendship.” Environment and Planning A: Economy and Space, Volume 38, Issue 3. 2006. Bold emphasis added.]
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Starfish may seem to be still, but longer attention [...] shows them [slowly] moving, changing. [...] Then there are beings [like some insects] that experience hundreds, thousands of generations within a human lifetime. For such beings, the memories, learnings and modes of passing on experience are, it almost goes without saying (yet it must be said as it is so often not), radically different from any human’s in terms of the ways they experience change. The immensity of the alterity is, literally, incomprehensible to humans. We can't know what these beings know. But we can be aware that they have knowledges and experiences beyond us. [...] [W]e should know they live and experience and think beyond us. We should seek respect and be aware of how our lives are entangled […]. It is not abstract, or empty.
[Text by: Bawaka Country et al. “Gathering of the Clouds: Attending to Indigenous understandings of time and climate through songspirals.” Geoforum Volume 108. January 2020. Bold emphasis added.]
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plzfeedmebread · 1 year
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What Do I Tell My Friends Family?
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Word count: 5086
Pairing: HUMAN Miles Quaritch x Female NA'VI Reader Tags/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, rare pairing, possibly dark content, smut, adult themes, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, lust, older man x younger woman, under age reader (16), degradation, nsfw, dubious consent, dirty talk, orgasm, orgasm denial, foul language, choking, vaginal fucking
Author's Note: This came to me in a day dream. Listening to this song. Set in the same idea I have for Lie of Providence, where you're able to communicate with the spirit of Quaritch in a Dream. Though it's a bit different there. Won't be included in LoP. Have kept reader's appearance vague in some parts so imagine it as you will.
| 1 | <next chapter>
*by clicking keep reading you understood the contents there within*
You shouldn’t want this. You should not be feeling like this. Oh Great Mother, the shame is near unbearable. Yet you are powerless to stop yourself. You want him, this you know. He is a man. Not like the boys of the clan. Immature, stupid boys who know nothing. No, this is a man. You have no doubt he would treat you the way you deserve. Or perhaps, the ways in which you want to be treated.
It started as a childish crush; a flight of fancy. A silly little thing you were, developing feelings for a man you only see in a shared Dream. You enjoyed watching him flex those oh so strong arms, the expanding of that broad chest with each precious breath. Each movement deliberate, no energy wasted in the fluidity of his being. He was taller than you then.
But time passes and it brings with it changes you weren’t entirely expecting. Becoming taller than him at 17 was a given. You’re almost 7’5” now, and will surely keep growing till you’re at least your mother’s height. What you did not expect however, was the swell of your chest. The women of your tribe you notice, do not have such large breasts. They are small, extenuating their lithe form, the agile body of Huntresses. But here you stand, barely an adult, with tits bigger than your hands. Your hips are noticeably wider too.
As time made you older, so too did it make you bolder. You care not if his gaze meets yours as you shamelessly stare down at him when he trains. You openly watch him do any human ritual, especially when it involves him testing the limits of his physique. And you notice too, how his gaze lingers on you. His eyes travel up and down your form when he thinks you do not notice. You eat up the silent attention. You sure as shit weren’t getting it from the young boys of your tribe.
Sure, mother and father tried their best arranging future mates for you. But every meeting of the family, you seem to be the only one to notice the boys’ upturn sneer. To them, you were always a freak. Proportionally wrong. A half-breed.
Your friends tell you not to worry about it. Boys are stupid anyway and wouldn’t know a good thing even if Eywa herself was prostrated before them. Yet you can’t help the jealously that rips through your very blood when they speak of stolen kisses and secret rendezvous. They do not make tsaheylu, as that is sacred and meant for their future life mate, but that doesn’t stop them exploring their baser desires with equally eager boys. And as the days to weeks to months pass, the frustration of it all builds until you are bursting at the proverbial seams.
And when the dam finally breaks, so too does your rational thinking. You are sick of your feelings being rebuffed by these stupid, immature boys. And you are equally as sick of this bizarre dance you’ve entered with Quaritch. If his soul is going to share Dreams with you, and so blatantly eat you with his gaze, then by Eywa does he owes you some actual attention.
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And so tonight you are going to put your plan into action. You adorn the least amount of beads and thread you possibly can, barely covering your nipples let alone the rest of your chest. You wear a loincloth with a thinner cut fabric in the back, it easily gets eaten into the swell of your ass. You’re sure Quaritch is going to like that, if his roaming eyes are anything to go by. The final touch are some pretty feathers in your hair which you let hang lose and un-braided. You take your ikran and fly somewhere else into the forest; you do not want to be disturbed this night and Eywa forbid your family asks about what you are wearing (or lack thereof).
You find somewhere suitable to lay your head for the night, the flattened top of a nearby tree. Your ikran makes themself comfortable elsewhere, far enough to give you privacy, but close enough to hear you call should you need them.
You sit on your haunches and take a big calming breath. You look up to clear sky. Eywa has blessed tonight with warm breezes and a dazzling display of stars. The forest is alight with bioluminescence and it brings you a sense of comfort. And with that, you lay yourself down and close your eyes.
---
The Dreamscape too, it would seem, has taken the shape of Night. As you have hoped, you are immediately in a Human settlement. You think it is perhaps Hell’s Gate, but something is different. You cannot tell, but it feels different. No matter. These are irrelevant details. You are here on a mission.
You let pure instinct guide you into and through a building. You are drawn to him and he to you. Finding him is never difficult. As you traverse the halls, you are thankful you do not have to bend as to not hit the ceiling, though were you fully grown it would probably be a problem. You immediately stop in front of a door. He’s in this room. You take a moment to steel your resolve. You do not want to back out now. Not when you’ve already come this far. You take a deep breath, then press button on the side.
---
Quaritch finds it strange. To know oneself is dead. To be a wondering soul, bound to The All Mother. To say he was surprised to learn she was indeed real, would be an unprecedented understatement. Yet she does not speak to him. But he can feel her influence wherever he wonders. Most surprising though, is You.
By Eywa’s grace, the two of you keep sharing Dream spaces. He’s sure you’re not dead though your spirit visits him often. And he’s also sure of one other thing; you must be sweet on him. Never in his waking life, and apparent afterlife, would he have foreseen something like this. A savage girl, the daughter of the traitor Jake Sully, developing a crush on him.
It was cute at first. When you were small. But you’re not a child anymore. And he has, to his disgust and pleasure, taken notice. He thinks of the way you tease him, swaying your hips with purpose when you jog ahead so as to walk in front of him. That damn tail flicking whichever way to draw his attention. When you puff out your chest when you show him how good you’ve become with bow and arrow. Oh yes, he’s sure you’re doing this shit on purpose. And you stare! You openly stare, and when he catches you, you don’t even try to hide it. The audacity of it all.
He’s not even sure if you’re considered an adult by your people’s standards. He never once cared to learn about the filthy natives’ culture. If he remembers correctly, you had mentioned to him last time he saw you that you were 16, coming on 17. You were complaining about some dumb teenage boy in your clan. Something or rather about not finding you attractive. He let you vent your frustrations by manifesting an appropriate sized gun turret in the shared Dreamscape for you.
You mounted the machine without hesitation, and shot at nothing in particular. Your frusted yells drowned out by the loud rhythmic expulsion of bullet rain. And while you had your cute little moment, he watched as your supple body jiggled and bounced oh so wonderfully.
It’s wrong, he knows it. To lust after such a young teenage girl. But you’re not exactly human.  
He rubs the back of his neck frustratedly; doesn’t even notice he’s manifested himself in his old quarters, a place of comfort.
---
He tries to clear his mind. Think of something, anything else. But it all comes back to you. Fuck you’re a God damn tease. A succubus sent by Eywa to torture him. God dangling a piece of Eden in front of him, just out of reach.
What he wouldn’t give to bury himself deep into that pretty little cunt of yours, a hand grabbing fistfuls of your hair as you cry out in pain and pleasure. He wants to leave pretty purple bruises up and down your skin. Mementos he hopes you carry out with you into the waking world. He wants every one of those pathetic teenage boys to know who you really belong to. Show them how a real man lays claim to what’s his. Typical savages having no fucking taste. There’s a tent in his pants now, and he’s about to reach in and relieve himself when the sound of the door sliding open catches his attention.
Speak of the Devil and so shall She appear.
When the door opens you stop yourself in the door way. There he is, standing in the centre of the room. He’s wearing that black singlet you love so much; the entirety of his arms are exposed as well as part of that divine broad chest. The giant window ceiling lets in the natural light of the night awash the room in gentle moonlight.
You’re blushing hard, you can feel the heat spread up from your neck and dust your cheeks. There is a gentle heat forming between your legs as you keep staring.
“Well hey there Sweetheart. Now aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes…” Quaritch is the first to break the silence. His eyes start from your face, and slowly he rakes it down to your loin cloth and back up to face; not before lingering on your chest you notice.
“Now you didn’t have to get all dressed up pretty for lil’ old me—or should I say, dressed down?” You smile shily, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. “Come closer darlin’, let me get a good look at’cha.” He’s smirks at you mischievously.
You obey without thinking and step into the room to stand before him, the door shuts behind you instantly with a quiet swoosh.
When you’re this close, the height difference is a bit more apparent. His head height is perfectly situated at your breasts.
He hums approvingly, then gestures behind him for you to take a seat on the bed. When you, he standing in front of you, arms crossed on his chest. You bite your lip noticing the bulge of his biceps, your tail flicks excitedly behind you. He chuckles when he notices.
“Now tell me, [Y/N]—” it takes a great deal of willpower to stop the whine threatening to escape your throat when he says your name in that delicious accent. You audibly inhale. “—what exactly is it, that you think you’re doing Sweetheart?”
You decide you to feign ignorance. It is far too embarrassing to simply come out and say it. You want him to say it; want him to be the one to admit it first. He wants you just as much as you want him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Colonel,” you see the slight tense in his arms when you address him by his title; ‘oh he definitely likes that’. You place your hands in your lap, lightly squeezing your breasts together with your arms. You see his eyes shift down to stare at your cleavage, you can feel your nipples teasing through the bare fabric. He licks his teeth and you inwardly shudder at the action.
“Oh ho, I think you do, you little fucking tease. Now what I’m wondering is, does your Dear ol’ Pa know you’re here? Presenting yourself in front of the enemy like that.” Quaritch bends forward so he’s eye level with you. “I wonder how disappointed he’d be right now. Guess his sweet little [Y/N] ain’t so innocent after all, huh?”
“I do not want to talk about my Father right now Quaritch,” you huff at him frustratedly. You don’t want to think about your family right now, that’d be a sure-fire way to kill the mood before it’s even begun.
“Oh? Then, what is is that you want to do, [Y/N]?”
“You know exactly why I’m here Quaritch…” you avert your eyes, too embarrassed to make extended eye contact. You don’t see him lean closer, moving to the side of your head to whisper directly into your ear.
“Come now you’re a big girl [Y/N]. Why don’t you use your big girl words? Be a good girl, and tell the Colonel what it is that you want?” You audibly whimper. He moves to the front of your face again, grabbing your chin in his hand, forcing your face forward.
“Now I’ll ask again—What is it that you want hm? What is your plan here?”
“Eyes on me baby,” your ears perk forward at the new moniker, eyes immediately fixed on him. Oh Great Mother this man is going to break you.  
“I—I—want…”
“SAY IT.”
“You! My plan! You were my p-plan! It is you that I want! Please Colonel!” You all but yell when he commands you. You squeeze your eyes shut, the shame and embarrassment too much after such a declaration.
You hear Quaritch hum approvingly and can practically hear the smirk in his voice.
“Well, aren’t you just sweet?”
His lips crash onto yours suddenly. Both of his hands are on either side of your head, holding you firmly in place. He doesn’t move at first, testing to see your reaction. When he feels you tilt slightly to one side and gently push up into him, he deepens the kiss. You’re a mess of teeth, saliva and tongue. Hot breath mingling in each other’s mouths. By Eywa does he taste divine. Better than anything you could have possibly imagined. Heat pools at the base of your belly. The tiny flicker of a flame come to life. You stupidly wonder if the boys of your clan are even a fraction as skilled as he.
“I can feel ya thinkin’ about something you shouldn’t be, naughty minx.” He says when he breaks away from you. He pushes your collar bone forcefully enough for you to fall back onto the bed with an oof. You lean up on your elbows to look at him at the foot of the bed, your legs planted firmly on the ground.
He uses his legs to kick apart your legs and stands in the space between.
“Let me clear that pretty little head of yours…”
He leans onto the bed, presses his right thigh firmly against your sex, his hands are on your hips holding you in place. A pleasured gasp escapes you, the sudden unexpected feeling of pleasure sparks from your core through your entire body.
Satisfied that you won’t move, you can feel him move his hands up the expanse of your body, thumbs pressing into you as he traces the stars painting your skin. Upward he travels till he reaches your chest. Your breasts are exposed to the open are, your meagre coverings having fallen wayside when he pushed you back before.
He delicately traces the glowing pattern of one breast, before he gives you a gentle squeeze.
“Hmmm~” you murmur at the feeling, warmth pooling at the precipice of your legs. He grabs you, one in each hand, and starts kneading you firmly. The rough callouses of his palm causing delicious friction upon your nipples. He feels them peak into his hands and squeezes you tighter.
You can’t help but moan. You’ve never been touched like this at all by anyone else. It feels nothing like when you do it yourself. No, this is so much better.
He swings his left leg over you, resting on your side, his right leg presses harder onto your cunt as he leans forward. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue into your mouth; immediately seeking you out to fight for dominance. You feel the slick of your cunt coat your loin cloth.
He breaks the kiss to plant kisses on the underside of your jaw. Slowly he starts licking the dots there, tracing down your neck, and he sucks hard on the flesh there, catching the skin between his teeth. At the same time he pinches both your nipples between his forefinger and thumb roughly.
“Fuck!” You exclaim loudly, the pleasure in your body starting to burn. Each nerve is set alight in pleasured brilliance. You body demands more friction, so you rub your greedy clothed pussy up and down his thick muscular thigh, drenching his pants leg in your juices.
“Aww is that all for me? Well ain’t you just a peach,” Quaritch teases you when he feels the wetness upon his leg. He looks down and inspects the darkening hicky on your neck. Satisfied with his work, and continues to leave more on either side of your neck. Not content yet, he starts leaving them along your collar bone. All the while you grace him with the sing-song of your voice, openingly moaning in pleasured ecstasy at his ministrations.
You feel his hands vacate your chest, his leaves a wet trail as he traces his tongue along one swell. He gives your nipple an experimental lick causing you to make the cutest mewl. And when he takes your whole nipple into his mouth and starts sucking like a starving man, you can’t help the profanity that escapes your lips.
You push harder against his leg, enjoying the feeling of his strong muscles rub against your neglected clit. The pleasure from your cunt and tits pool together in your belly. A gentle coil of a promise starting to form. The build up stops suddenly when Quaritch moves his leg from your sacred conjunction. But before you can even complain, you watch as he moves his entire body lower until his face is between your legs.
Your embarrassment is renewed tenfold. You lay your head back and cover your face with both hands; too bashful to watch what’s about to happen. You aren’t completely ignorant, your friends made sure of that, sparing no detail of their escapades.
You obey his command, pushing yourself up on your elbows to stare down at the man poised at your nether region.
Quaritch laughs quietly at your display of embarrassment. He unties your loincloth with ease. When he takes in the sight of you, he cant help but suck in a large breath through clenched teeth. The stars painted on your cunt glow brightly in the moon light, the nectar of your arousal flows freely from your slit. A Waterfall of Eden before him.
 
“Now that just won’t do Sweetheart. Eyes on me, I wanna see those pretty eyes while I eat this pretty pussy.”
He nods approvingly and lowers himself once more, his eyes never break contact with you.
You inhale sharply when you feel him flatten his tongue against your slick, giving your slit one long slow lick up and over your clit.
Louder and louder you moan, there is no need to keep quiet here; there is only the two of you blanketed in soft moonlight.
He presses his hands into the groves of your hips to hold you down as he gets to work eating you out proper. Up and down he licks between your folds, sucking on your clit finally, in between. He cleans you up good, drinking deep of your honeyed nectar you so graciously give him.
He listens to every keen, mewl and moan. When the pleasure becomes too much you’re on the flat of your back once more, eyes closed in blissful ecstasy. Each hard suck on your clit pulls tight the coil in your core, the fire burning brighter with each passing moment.
And just when the tension on your belly threatens to snap in glorious orgasm, suddenly the feeling stops completely. Quaritch having ceased his ministrations.
“Delicious, thank you for the meal.”
You whimper unabashedly, tears threatening your eyes as you look down at him with a confused lidded look.
“So sorry Sweetroll, but the first time your cumming is going to be on my cock; no exceptions.”
You watch with bated breath as he undoes the belt around his waist. Eagerly does he free his throbbing cock from the confines of his pants. He’s already so fucking hard as he starts slowly pumping himself. He sees you bite your bottom lip as you drink in the sight of him. You lick your lips eagerly.
He feels himself twitch in his hand at the thought of you on your hands and knees as he throat fucks you till your insides are raw. But he’ll save that for another time. Right now the sweet musk of your cunt is beckoning him, and nothing is going to stop him answering the call.
He gathers some of your nectar to spread up and down his member, before he lines himself up with your entrance.
He looks down at you, eyes meeting yours.
“You ready baby? I don’t think I can be gentle,” you nod in response. He rubs his thick tip up and down your slick, gathering more of your nectar. When he finds our entrance, he slowly pushes in just the tip, gauging your reaction. Your eyes close as pleasure assaults every nerve of your body. You feel your cunt immediately drench, excited at the prospect of being utterly fucked full. He can’t help it, seeing your face like that, hearing you sing like that? His resolve all but shatters. In one fell fluid motion he pushes all of himself in up until the hilt, meeting no resistance.
The suddenness of him, feeling his long hard cock stuff the entirety of your pussy, you can’t help the scream that rips itself from your throat. There is a pleasure you didn’t think possible, but also a dull pain from the sudden stretch. You can feel the hairs of his crotch brush against your clit. He isn’t moving though, waiting for you to adjust to this new feeling.
“[Y/N]…Can I?” He’s trying to ask if he can move in between laboured breath. You nod almost immediately. The dull pain nothing you can’t handle.
“P-please move Quaritch,” you beg and he hums in response. You feel him lift both your legs, holding them up at the knees. He pulls out slowly till the tip, then slams back into you.
“Aaah!” You yell in pleasure at the friction gracing your inner walls. Quaritch takes in one deep breath, and he starts pumping into you with all the force he can muster. He is not gentle. He leans over your body, pushing your legs up and apart, granting easier access to your welcoming cunt.
It’s all too much, all too good. The pleasure is insurmountable. Touching yourself will never bring you pleasure like this. Each time he slams back into you, he crashes against your throbbing clit; lightning sparks through your veins, each nerve ending singing a chorus of pleasure, your body is burning in the flames of desire.  
You feel the coil tightening; the build-up of orgasm approaching far quicker than you anticipated.
“Fuck—fuck you feel so good baby,” Quaritch starts praising you. Despite the size disparity, you are tight, perfect, made just for him.
You can’t answer him with words, the only sounds escaping your swollen lips are sing-song moans. It strokes his ego something deep, to see you like this; folded in half, hair framing your face like a [h/c] halo, your face dusted in deep blush. And oh, the faces you make. You can’t be this cute. It should be illegal. If this was Earth, it would be illegal.
But he’s not on Earth. And you’re not Human. Such delicate sensibilities don’t apply out here 4 light years away. Besides. Eywa presented you before him oh so generously, and it would just be impolite to refuse such a gift.
“Q-Quaritch—I’m—” You can’t seem to get the words out, your orgasm approaching without mercy. He knows it though. The squeezes of your drenched cunt warning him. But he’s not ready for you to cum yet. He’s got one more little thing he wants to do.
“Don’t you dare cum [Y/N], you hear me? That’s an order,” he doesn’t relent his pace, the bastard. You close your eyes tight, trying through sheer force of will not to cum.
“Y-yes Sir,” he all but growls the moment you call him that, and you can’t help but smile cheekily. You feel his pace slow to deliberate thrusts. He doesn’t say anything but you feel his hands remove themselves from your legs and hear him fidget with something. You open your eyes in time to see him brandishing his belt in hand.
“Now hold still darling,” he instructs as he, without question, ties the belt around your neck, wrapping the leather around his left hand in tight coils.
“Do you trust me?” he asks as he smirks down at you. Your hand traces the belt around your neck, and your eyes meet his. You stare deep into those blue pools; he is brimming with lust, desire, and something so much deeper. You can’t explain it, but you trust this man with every fibre of your being.
“Yes…I trust you,” You give him the sweetest smile you can muster, and hold your left hand. He threads the fingers of his right hand through yours.
He picks up his pace, returning once again to that brutal pace before. He thrusts and hard as he can, pounding into your cunt with all the strength he has.
“Yesyesyesyes!” You chant eagerly, feeling your orgasm build up for the third time. Without warning, Quaritch pulls on the belt. It tightens around your neck, cutting off your oxygen.
Your eyes widen in sudden panick, reasling you can barely draw in any air. And that feeling, the leather as it bites into the skin of your neck, the tightness in your chest at the lack of air, it is delicious. Your cunt squeezes unabashedly around Quaritch and he huffs with a smirk.
He lets go of your hand then, you bring it up to your throat, grabbing the belt to try and relieve some of the tension.
“No you fucking don’t—!” Quaritch pulls tighter, and with his now free hand, grabs a hold of your tail—and pulls.
Your shut your eyes at the pleasure, tears falling freely down your face. Drool seeps from the corner of your mouth hanging open. No sound escapes your parted lips.
“Such a good girl, you take my cock so well [Y/N]! No one will ever fuck you like I do! Don’t you ever forget that, you God damn hear me?”
You are unable to form any words, the only sound you can muster is a strained moan. Good enough for him.
“That’s it baby—FUCK—Take it all of me like the slut that you are. Throwing yourself at those boys, knowing full well you belong to ME!”
That does it.
The coil in your belly snaps violently, your pussy grabbing his cock in a tight vice as your orgasm wracks your body in glorious ecstasy. You ride the high for all you’re worth. The only sound your able to make is a quiet choke as you struggle to breath, eyes rolling back into your head.
Black spots appear along your vision from the lack of air. But you don’t care, your cunt is still cumming and hard, gushing relentlessly, bathing Quaritch in your heavenly nectar.
You feel his thrusts falter as you continue to squeeze him without mercy. And after a few final pumps, he cums with a load growl. He’s coating your slick walls in his hot seed. He pumps a few more times into you weakly, his hold on the be belt slackens, rewarding you with glorious air once more. You gasp greedily, taking in long slow breathes.
You lay there for a time. Drenched in all manner of bodily fluids. The smell of sex permeates your senses, and you blush, embarrassed suddenly by the activities. You feel Quaritch slowly pull his softened cock from you, the feeling of his cum slowly seeping from your slit giving you a dull pleasure.
Your hole feels utterly abused, but the pain throbs pleasurably, you find you don’t mind the feeling. You feel Quaritch untie and remove the belt from your neck. He hums approvingly at the bruise left in its wake and plants a kiss to your sensitive skin.
He moves up over your jaw to your lips, planting soft kisses along the way.
He kisses you deeply, you can taste yourself on his lips and it almost reignites the fire within you.
When he finally pulls away from the kiss, he’s staring down at you. There is something unreadable in his expression. He opens his mouth to speak. But when you blink, he’s gone.
The room is gone.
Instead, your eyes are greeted with the blinding light of morning; your senses suddenly assaulted with the burgeoning life of the day.
You sit up and immediately notice your clit is sensitive. You smile to yourself; your body must have cum while you dreamt. You stand and stretch, feeling utterly refreshed. You feel a bit bad leaving so suddenly, but that was out of your control. You’ll be sure to apologise in the next Dream.
You call for your ikran, and make the short journey back home. You are trying very hard to remember to wipe the stupid grin from your face. You make your way back to the family nest in the trees, grabbing the extra garments you hid near where you leave your ikran.
Everyone in your family is awake already. You can hear the sound of idle chatter and the smell of breakfast hits your nose. Good, you are practically starving. You don’t bother trying to be quiet as you make your way up. Just as you pull yourself up and onto the platform, it is your brother Lo’ak who addresses you first.
“Ahhh look who finally decided….to…” his voice trails off when he looks up to you.
“What the—WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR NECK?!” Kiri yells as she immediately stands up and rushes over to you, cold hands immediately on you, turning you this way and that.
Your neck?
Oh.
OH!
Oh no…
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Author's Note: Thanks for reading!!! Hope it was to your liking! Apologies for any mistakes. It's 1am and I have working in the morning lmao TwT
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zimthandmade · 25 days
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Do you remember these? I desperately want more art of them. I want them to go on silly little adventures.
(extra sketch for the brave ones hihi)
----- My other socials Commission Info Let's drink some Ko-Fi! 🍵
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bloodybosom · 2 months
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You know the strange ox that if you kill it Dammon dies? I bet that thing has the infernal hots for him. I want to watch its ooze body slip over Dammon and plug all his holes. Have him so udderly (huehue, pun) debauched by being inside of it that he fills it with pockets of his hot splurts of cum until he's completely drained.
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
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𝒃𝒊𝒎𝒃𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒍𝒍
🍯our little farm masterlist🍯
summary - the reader gets a call from her parents, they ask her to look after their farm and hopefully get their newest addition to mate with the cow hybrids. what happens when it's not the cows bull ari sets his sights on, but instead, it's the reader?
warning - interspecies, dumb bimbo reader, angst, smut, swearing, fluff, creampie, breeding kink, voyeurism, spying, masturbation, dirty thoughts, slight manipulation, talks of masturbating.
18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, and the dividers are by @royalsweetteaa and @firefly-graphics
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING
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You yawned, walking groggily to the kitchen. You felt the exhaustion settling into your bones from the long drive over. Your parents had asked you to come and look after their farm whilst on vacation. They explained that one of their newest additions is refusing to mate with the cow hybrids. You happily agreed, having nothing better to do where you lived. 
Your hands rub your eyes, walking over and starting the coffee machine. Your plump breasts practically spill out of your soft yellow nightie, the lace ending just below your ass as you lean over to grab the ingredients for your breakfast. Your cute pink mug is filled to the brim with vanilla-flavoured coffee. You take sips and prepare some banana pancakes with a side of oatmeal covered in yoghurt and berries.
Once everything is prepared, You walk outside and sit down. You take in the sunrise and the beautiful colours of the sky as you eat. Not noticing the newest addition staring daggers in your direction, his head tilted to the side as he tried to figure out who this stranger was. His darkened blue eyes take in your skimpy pyjamas, tongue flicking out as he appreciates the sight. And it finally clicked. Ari knew that you were the one he wanted to mate with, not these whorish cows that kept throwing themselves at him.
You hum as you finish breakfast, your belly full as you stand. Heading back inside to prepare for the day, you walk to the kitchen, placing your dishes in the sink before heading to your room. You pull out your skimpiest denim shorts— the perfect pair that hugs your ass— and a tiny white shirt— one that forms perfectly around your plump breasts. 
You giggle as you pull your clothes on before bending over to put your cute little farmer boots on. You get up and head into the bathroom, brushing your teeth before returning, feeling ready to get to work. You make your way out of the house and head to the crops to tend to those first. 
After all the work you have done, you feel dirty. But that doesn’t stop you from heading to the animals to care for them. You don’t notice that you are being watched, too busy smiling at everything around you. You wave when you see the neighbours. Having met the owner and their helper Colin, you’ve learnt they have the same problem with their bull Ransom. You won’t admit it, but you’ve had dirty thoughts about Colin. Your tongue darts out, wetting your lips as you think of him all dirty and on top of you. The many nights you’ve spent with your vibrator between your legs with the thoughts of him there instead were too many to count.
As you pass the cows, you smile and wave. “Hey, ladies!” You continue to giggle as they wave back, happily strolling through as you work. When you enter Ari’s closed-off area, you look around curiously. You’ve never met a bull hybrid before. You push a loose strand of hair behind your ear before you jump, as a huff can be heard from the side of you.
You turn, and a giant smile appears as your eyes connect with beautiful blue ones. “Hi! I’m Y/n! You must be Ari!” You squeal, stumbling closer to him. Your eyes are wide as you take in his giant form, practically drooling at his bulging muscles and the panty-dropping defined lines across his stomach. You stick your hand out, feeling giddy with being in his presence. 
Ari’s brows furrow, puffing his chest out, and he notices how your eyes follow the movement. His large hand fills yours, shaking it slightly. He takes in your form, seeing how much tinier you are to him. “L/n’s daughter?” You nod, soft giggles escaping you as you take in the nasty scar on his face before following it and looking at his golden rings.
“Yeah! I’m looking after the place!” You grin, “Apparently, I’m supposed to help you mate with the cows?” Your brows furrow, pouting as you try to figure out how to do that. Your head tilts to the side, looking up at him with confusion. “How do I do that?” 
“You don’t know how to…?” Ari tilts his head also, studying you. How you look at him with a dazed look is different for him. “What if I told you that it’s better and healthier for a bull to mate with a human instead of a cow?” 
You blink, eyes widening even more. “It is?” Ari nods, holding back the smirk that desperately wants to appear. “Huh… My dad never told me that… Okay…” You nod, believing his words as he seems older than you. Your eyes slowly drag down his body, stopping at the spot between his legs, brows furrowing as you become curious. Ari watches as a look of wonder appears on your face, he opens his mouth to ask you what you're looking at, but a sound of shock leaves him as you slither your hand through the fence and poke his softened cock. “Aww! It’s so cute! Hello, little guy!” 
Ari huffs, feeling shocked and offence shoot through him as you continue to coo at his cock. He utters what the fuck as you just stare at him wide-eyed. A grunt escapes him, gaining your attention back up at him. His brows are raised. “Are you done?” Your lips go between your teeth as your eyes flicker back down before connecting with his eyes again, a slight nod following. Ari huffs, his eyes take in your outfit. “What are you wearing?” 
You frown, looking down at your outfit. “What’s wrong with this?” You look back at him, doe-eyes filled with tears, plump lips pouted as you tug on your shirt. Unknowingly exposing your cleavage to him, your thighs clench at his rough look.
“It’s too… It’s not proper for the farm, but… Never mind, you wouldn’t take advice from someone like me anyway.” Ari turns, holding back his smirk as you call for him to wait. Your soft voice was begging for his advice on what to wear. He turns, facing you again with a straight face. “Well… A nice short dress would be easier to work in…” He clicks his tongue inside his mouth as he watches you stare up at him, eyes still clueless. “But, if you want to be seen as a disappointment….”
“No! I don’t! I will change into the appropriate farmwear tomorrow!” You babble, gripping the fence as tears fall from your eyes. 
“Good girl.” A smile appears on your face at Ari’s words, feeling pride beaming inside you. You say your goodbyes before skipping back to the house, feeling your stomach grumble. Never having felt so free before, you enter the kitchen, gather ingredients for dinner, and begin to prepare some pasta, your mouth watering as the scent of food enters your nostrils. 
Once the food was ready, you served yourself a bowl and sat down. You scoff it all before getting up, walking to the kitchen and placing the bowl into the sink, ensuring all the dishes are clean before groggily heading to the bedroom. You strip until you are completely bare and unknowingly give the hybrid outside a show. Ari’s hand moves up and down his massive cock as he watches you strip from your dirty clothes. Your soft hands glide down your nude form, and he grunts as he covers his body with his cum. 
You climb into your soft bed and fall into a blissful sleep.
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The sound of a rooster wakes you from your slumber, and you roll over and groan. Burying your face into your fluffy pillow, you can feel your muscles begin to relax again as sleep tries to take over. Slowly, you get out of bed and head into the bathroom. You turn the shower on and wait for the water to become boiling hot before getting in.
A sigh of relief escapes you as the water begins to relieve your tense muscles. You wash your hair and body, ensuring you are clean and ready for the day before hopping out and drying yourself. You head back into your room and open your closet, pulling out a tiny checkered white and blue dress that fits snugly against your body. 
You pull it on and place a white headband into your hair, pulling your boots on before heading into the kitchen. Repeating what you did the morning before, starting up the coffee machine and making yourself some breakfast. Once everything is ready, you sit outside and enjoy it all. Finishing your food and coffee, you head inside and place them into the sink before heading back out to begin work.
You skip around, tending to your chores and harvest some fruit that appears to be ready. As the day passes, you snack on the cherries in your basket, heading to where the animals are and waving to the cows as you pass them by. You make sure they have everything they need before you go to check on Ari, hoping that he approves of your outfit.
Ari’s eyes are locked on your lips when you enter, licking his lips as he watches you slowly bite into the cherry. His eyes slowly move down and take in your dress, huffing in approval. “Hi! Did you sleep okay?!” You squeal, skipping closer to him. You happily chew on the cherries as you beam up at him, hoping you’ve made him proud with your dress. “Did I do good? You were so right about it being easier to move in!” Your doe-eyes blink as you wait for him to answer.
Ari smiles, straightening his back as he stares down at you. “You did well. You’re such a good girl for listening to me.” He smirks slightly as he watches you clench your thighs together, his praise getting to you. “But I do need you to do something for me.”
You launch forward, eyes wide. “Anything!” Ari bites his lip, having to think of something else as he feels his cock twitch. 
“I accidentally dropped something over there and can’t reach it. Do you mind grabbing it for me?” You nod, practically buzzing as you wait for him to tell you where it is. He clears his throat, and his ear twitches as he holds his desires back. “It’s just over there.” You nod again, quickly heading over to where he’s pointing and bending once you’ve found it. A groan slips from Ari’s lips as your glistening cunt is in view, and his cock begins to swell and grow as he stares. 
“Here it is!” You stand, holding the bell in your hand, before turning around and bouncing over to the giant creature. Your eyes fall on his hardened cock, causing them to widen as your mouth opens in shock. “Where’d my little guy go?” You pout as you stare before looking up at him, saddened that he’s gone.
Ari blinks, slowly grabbing the bell from your hands and placing it over his head. The cool metal rests against his neck. “Sadly, he won’t make his appearance until I’m empty, but unfortunately, I don’t have a human to mate with for that to happen.” Ari pouts, pretending to be sad.
A whimper escapes you. “I can help! I’m human!” You whine, batting your eyelashes up at him as you pout. 
Ari shakes his head, “No. I couldn’t ask you to do that, and it has to be someone extraordinary to be able to be filled by me.” His head lifts when a sob leaves your plump lips. He notices the heartbroken look on your face.  
You nod sadly. The feeling of happiness that you felt had been drained. “Oh… Okay, well… Have a good day.” You give him a sad smile, turning to leave.
His brows furrow, quickly reaching out and grabbing your wrist. “What, no. Why are you leaving?” 
You turn back and look up at him. “You said it had to be someone extraordinary… I know I’m dumb, but I also know when I’m not wanted.” You sniffle, smiling through it all. 
A sigh leaves his lips, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean you weren’t special, I thought you’d turn around and say you were, but obviously, I should’ve just accepted your offer to help.” 
You blink up at him, the tears brimming as you pout. “Really? I’m special enough to help you?” Ari nods, and a giant smile appears as you bounce up and down. “I’d be happy to help, Ari! Please, can I help?!” Ari feels his cock twitch at your eagerness and the sight of your wide eyes. He nods, causing you to squeal and quickly go to the gate, opening it and entering his area. 
You excitedly skip over to him and crash into his large body, his massive cock pokes your tiny form, and you can feel your knickers dampen from the feeling. Ari grabs you and lifts you as if you weigh like a feather. You feel your cunt throb as he does this. He carries you over to the stacks of hay. Ari sits and places you on top of him. He groans at the feeling of your bare cunt touching his swollen cock. 
“You want to be split open by me, little one?” You nod, whimpering and gripping his bulging biceps, humping your dripping cunt onto his throbbing member. “But, you’re such a tiny little baby. How could you possibly fit something as large as my cock in your small hole?” He taunts, hands gripping your hips as he moves your body.
You whine. “It’ll fit, please. Stuff me full of you!” Your head bobs up and down, repeatedly repeating ‘it’ll fit’ as you babble. Your head falls back, feeling blissed out before the fun begins, and your nails dig into his flesh. “Please! Force your cock into my small cunt! Fill me to the brim! Please!” Your eyes roll back as Ari lifts you and begins to push his thick tip into your hole. A pornographic moan leaves your lips as your cunt swallows his cock. 
“Oh! Jesus fuck! You’re so fucking tight! Much better potential for a mate than those whores over there!” He huffs, nostrils flaring as he stops his eyes from rolling to the back of his head. “You think they’ll be jealous that I’m stuffing you with my massive cock and not them?” You nod, eyes squeezed shut as you bounce up and down his cock, soaking him entirely with your juices. His large hands help fasten your pace, pounding up into you. “My good girl! Soon you’ll be full and carrying my babies! Do you think your dad will be proud of you for helping me?” 
Your mind is fuzzy, lazily nodding your head before planting it into his neck. “Wan’ be full o’ you” Your words come out jumbled, barely finding time to breathe as his cock splits you open but in a good way. A whimper escapes you when Ari pulls the front of your dress down, causing your plump breasts to bounce free. He launches forward, latching his lips onto your aroused nipples. His tongue swirls around them, licking and sucking. Your hands move up and into his hair, gripping and tugging as you are overwhelmed with pleasure.
His swollen and full balls slap against your ass, and his arms wrap securely around your waist as he slams into you faster and harder. One of your hands moves toward his horns and grip tight. Screams of pleasure escape you as your walls tighten and squeeze his throbbing base, desperately trying to milk him dry. 
“M’ close!” You pull your body as close as possible to him, feeling yourself spasm around him.
“Cum, little one!” The moment those words fall from his lips, your back arches, and your cunt sucks his cock deeper inside you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and for a moment, you black out as your juices squirt out of you, covering him and everything around you both. “Fuck! You feel so fucking good! Ready for me to fill you up?” 
“Yes! Yes! Please!” Whimpers and groans escape you both as large amounts of cum spurt out of Ari, and deep into your womb, there’s so much that it begins to leak out of you and onto his lap. “So good! So good!” You hold onto him, whining as you feel him in your stomach. You sag into him as the exhaustion sets in.
“You did good, little one. Get some rest. I’m not done with you yet.” He whispers, stroking your hair as a whine leaves you, feeling his cock begin to harden and grow inside of you. 
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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seiya-starsniper · 5 months
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All Wound Up (Dreamling) - AO3
Rating: E | Status: Complete | Chapters 1/1 | Words: 3.1k
Summary:
Hob hadn’t realized he had a hair pulling kink until now, but perhaps he didn’t. Maybe his entire kink was just Dream.
Hob realizes Dream has a thing for having his mane tugged. He takes full advantage of the situation.
Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Centaurs, Centaur Dream of the Endless, Human Hob Gadling, Hair-pulling, Hair Kink, Rutting, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Pining, Friends With Benefits
Dedicated to the absolutely wonderful and talented @amielot, thanks so much for letting me play other sandbox of your Horse Girl AU! 💖💖💖
Special thanks to @lyriclorelei and @rooftopwreck for the beta read!!!!
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Today's problematic ship is Leto Atreides and Ghanima Atreides from Children of Dune
Brother/sister incest
Interspecies
Requested by anonymous
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quock-ko · 9 months
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June 23 2011. When the afternoon came, pigeon and chicken already behaved more freely. The pidge even started to copy the chick's manner of walking: raising the leg quite high and for a moment clenching the toes before lowering the leg for the next step. It was funny to see a pigeon walking in such a chooky way.
The chick also teached her other, very useful skill: an ability to peck the seeds fast. Before that, the pidge's eating skills was clumsier.
There were some crowing coos and angry beak swings, but only a couple of times. I've decided to bring the chick back to my aunt next day, but maybe they would befriend each other more, if the chick would stay a bit longer.
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fatehbaz · 1 year
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In one of the oldest poems in English literature, [...] The Seafarer not only provides us with one of our first ornithological references in the English language, but also [...] written description of birds evoking place, being associated with a distinct landscape. This poem is not alone, however, in suggesting to us how birds could inspire a feeling for place more than 1,000 years ago. [...] Hidden in the names of towns and villages are the ghostly traces of birds conjuring powerful identities for people in the landscapes and settlements of early medieval England. [...]
Among this rich repository of names [in Britain], birds rank in their many hundreds as vitalising elements and markers of medieval places – more than any other class of wild animal [...]. Among the cranes and crows, eagles and pigeons and geese (to mention some of the more commonly named birds), there are also less expected species. Who would imagine the mulch-and-mud snipe secretly probing the worm house as place markers in Snitterfield (Warwickshire), or fairy-flitting titmice roving through trees as the spirits of Masongill (Yorkshire), or yellowhammers like fireside embers in the winter hedgerows in Amberley (Sussex)? [...] What was it about birds that so caught people’s place-imaginations?
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One avian order that demonstrates birds’ place-shaping potential especially well is the owls. [...] [T]he tiny village of Ulcombe [is] nestled in a gentle fold of the North Downs. Its name is listed in the Domesday Book (1086 CE), and it means ‘the owl’s valley’. [...] [O]ur word for this order of birds descends from one of just two Old English words for all owls: ule, pronounced ‘oooo-l’ (the other is uf, of which there are very few records.) Ule is a very ancient [...] utterance. [...] The onomatopoeic potency of ule implies not only how owls themselves materialised and existed as sound [...], but that this also affected how people experienced the places in which they heard these sounds. On some level, those places named after owls (Ulgham, Outchester, Oldberrow, Ullenhall, Ullenwood) were identified as soundscapes as much as landscapes [...].
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Other ‘sound birds’ appearing in place names besides owls, however, suggest [...] bioacoustics as [...] distinguishing properties of a place’s atmosphere. Take bitterns, for instance, those specialists of reed-bed living, who have perfected invisibility [...]. We know bitterns best by the eerie, sonorous booming of male bitterns that ‘bombleth in the myre’, as Geoffrey Chaucer describes it in ‘The Wife of Bath’s Tale’. In names like Purleigh (pūr + lēah = ‘bittern clearing’), then, we are confronted again by places defined according to a particular, evocative sound. Even in the 18th century, when the draining of much of the old Fens surrounding the Ouse Washes was already well underway, Daniel Defoe is drawn to ‘the uncouth Music of the Bittern … so loud that it is heard two or three Miles Distance’ [...].
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Like the tawny owl, of course, [the cuckoo] has a very distinctive song. Its famous call (immortalised in the medieval song ‘Sumer Is Icumen In’) is equally matched by the bird’s reputation as a herald of summer. Species such as cuckoos and swallows are only present for part of the year in Britain, meaning they were mostly absent from those places that came to bear their names. How was it, then, that they still came to imbue locations such as Swallowcliffe or Yaxley (the Old English for cuckoo is geac, pronounced ‘yay-ack’) with such defining and enduring resonance? These summer birds bring a place to life, as it were. [...] Cuckoos, like so many British birds that are threatened or extinct, would have been much more abundant in the Middle Ages. Yaxley, on the edge of surviving cuckoo strongholds in the former Fens, would have thronged to their calls. Now these places, and many like them where the birds of their names are absent, are solemnly displaced, the names creaking in the wind like dilapidated pub signs [...]. We can sense that displacement in the sprawl of modern suburban environments too, which [...] assign bird nomenclatures to roads and residential spaces (Sandpiper Drive, Nightingale Way, Lark Rise, Goldcrest Mews…) where the species named are nowhere to be seen [...].
[B]ird place names [...] alert us [...] [to] the rich forms and possibilities of ecological dwelling, which shaped how people perceived and responded to the local worlds around them. [...] We need these spirits of place.
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All text above by: Michael J. Warren. “Home and the birdsong.” Aeon. 12 December 2022. Essay edited by Sam Haselby. [In this post, bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me. Presented here for commentary, teaching, criticism purposes.] Essay published by Aeon at: [aeon.co/essays/british-place-names-resonate-with-the-song-of-missing-birds]
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angelofalls · 1 year
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[OC] Amani (Lion) and Valdr (Dragon) 2 cover art pieces of a comic idea I'm lowkey developing on the side for fun. Can't say when I'll unleash the actual pages, it's not my main focus at the moment but hope to make it happen someday!
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thetisming · 7 months
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"i'm a monsterfucker" okay but what do you think of interspecies ships. and are you normal about them
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bloodybosom · 9 months
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do.. do you think larian left minsc unromanceable because they couldn't figure out how to explain that it's actually boo piloting the mech, ratatouille-style when you're getting taken to pound town?
like yeah yeah "he's gotta be packin' schmeat" this and "morons are the ones who truly clap cheeks" that, but (and i say this with all the light and love in my heart), the man would barely be able to manage tipping water out of a boot if the instructions were written on the heel. there is NO way he knows where to stick it in, boo would surely have to be advising him on that.
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
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𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐫𝐦
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welcome to mine and @royalsweetteaa’s little farm.
18+ only please, do not copy, repost or translate our works. You are responsible for your own media consumption.
೫˚🍯❀ *ૢ🌻೫˚🌞
𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
೫˚🍯❀ *ૢ🌻೫˚🌞
!warning! these fics will include inter-species (bull hybrids) relations, size differences, innocent kink and age gaps.
೫˚🍯❀ *ૢ🌻೫˚🌞
𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐬:
𝒃𝒊𝒎𝒃𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒍𝒍 - pairing: bull-hybrid Ari Levinson x farmer reader.
೫˚🍯❀ *ૢ🌻೫˚🌞
𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒅 - pairing: bull-hybrid Ransom Drysdale x farmer reader. @royalsweetteaa’s work.
𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬:
𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞
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Today's problematic ship is Antisepticeye and Chase Brody from Jacksepticeye universe
Interspecies
Power imbalance
Abusive
Requested by anonymous
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