#leshi

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Staring down at your plate doesn’t quite feel comfortable, and looking up into his eyes as you chew through the tartness feels like torture. Looking back down for the fifteenth time only adds to the awkwardness and frustration felt from your inability to breathe normally. Each bite is slightly varied in sweetness and sourness, and what would otherwise be a rather pleasant summer dessert finds itself sticking to the roof of your mouth.

You don’t know if the tightness in your chest is from swallowing too soon or lingering fear, but you reach for the glass to wash everything down all the same.

“I’ve never seen someone both so frightened and ravenous at the same time,” he says with that same smile he’s been wearing since you first arrived at his doorstep. You finally make an effort to meet his gaze more steadily as you lower your emptying drink.

“I must have been running around in the heat for longer than I thought. I’m sorry,” you smile awkwardly. Too many teeth, you think to yourself while trying to discreetly lick at the lingering syrup in your cheeks. “My manners are not the best right now.” Your eyes drop down to your hands, noting the newfound deep coloration within your nails from the blackberry dessert dish he had offered you.

“Oh, there’s no need for you to be sorry for anything, my dear.” He finally offers you some reprieve from the intensity of his staring and stands up from his chair. As he passes by, your shoulders loosen a little and you momentarily consider licking your fingers while he’s not around to see.

A soft handkerchief is placed into your lap before you can indulge in any further kind of dessert-crazed behavior and he falls back into his seat with an amused look. “Relax,” he breathes the word so softly you almost feel inclined to do his bidding. But the tenseness returns all the same, and you still feel the hot rush of your pulse in your thighs from searching for Laurel.

Right. Laurel could still be out there. And you’re here, sitting in some cozy cottage in front of some… creature? Man? You’ve yet to address his ears, and you don’t want to come off as rude on top of crazy. The deep ache of hunger in your stomach and hoarse voice caused by the lengthy fruitless search has left you with nothing but dizzy acceptance. You don’t know if you’re seeing things at this point or if he’s some kind of alternative fashion guy, but he calmly guided you through your near-sobbing state earlier and you feel more than enough shame from that.

“Would you like me to leave-“

“No,” you interrupted him before he could even release the sound of ‘V.’ You clean your shaky fingers with the soft cloth, meticulously going underneath each nail to avoid looking up at him again. “It’s your home, and I just barged in, why would I tell you to leave?” You’ve somehow found your voice but only to defend some stranger. An odd, but welcoming and kind stranger. A stranger who’s offered you something to eat but with no silverware? You feel like an idiot. What the hell was wrong with this guy? The alarm bells in your head have been going off since you first stepped in. You need to leave.

“I should go, I’m sorry about all of this, like I said, I’m still looking-“ you didn’t even realize he got up again in the midst of your panicked words and he’s already ushering you back into the softly creaking chair.

“You’re in no state to go out into the forest like this, I’m sure you know that.” You can feel his words from behind your neck and it only adds to the growing sickening sensation of stress-induced nausea. You can feel the beginning of goosebumps forming on your arms, and something primal inside of you begs to make your legs run once more.

“It’s-“

“Fine? No, it’s not at all. Stay.” You can still hear how the words leave the shape of upturned lips and you wonder just how stupid you were to knock on that door in the first place. “You’re lucky you came here, you know,” his words echoed through the opposite within your mind.

Distantly, you wonder to yourself if it’s all just paranoia. You wish you could just calm down. You wish he would just sit back down again. You wish you never came here with Laurel. You wish you would just-

“Breathe,” you feel a gentle touch on your shoulder, and another traveling down to where your heart continues to thump wildly against your chest.

You freeze. Is this seriously happening? Before you can protest, you feel a small squeeze on your shoulder. It somehow was threatening, comforting, and goading all at once. You decide to try, regardless of how ridiculous you feel in the moment.

You hear a shuddering breath that you would have thought was yours if not for feeling it directly behind you. “Out,” he continues to instruct as a part of you questions if he’s somehow savoring your panic. You quickly shut the thought down in an effort to cooperate with the exercise that is clearly for your benefit, not his.

“In,” it was the fourth time now, and you could feel the slight pricking of his claws against the softness of your clothing. You had sobered up enough out of your panic to notice them by now and finally find it in you to ask suddenly.

“What… um, who are you? Or, I guess I meant-“

He laughs, but it sounds more like he had been waiting to let out this particular sound just for when you’d finally ask. “I know what you mean, human. You can call me Leshi. But now you must tell me your name as well, I insist.” He moves to lean over you slightly, finally standing within your direct view once again. His ears seem to twitch at the sound of your name. “I knew it would be as lovely as your face,” he seems to sigh and you suddenly feel a very different kind of panic.

“Thank… you?” You don’t know if you want to laugh right now or cry again from how out of control you feel in this scenario. Your brain decides on yet another nervous smile before you can stop yourself. Then you pause and realize the odd way he addressed you. “So… uh, you’re not…?” You once again think to yourself that Laurel must have spiked your water with something incredibly special today.

“Not what?” He replies too easily, too close in the way he looms over you with those dreadfully blue eyes. You might have called them ethereal if it weren’t for how dead they looked, and how your blood froze still in your veins every time they’d lock with your own.

“Human?”

He seems to grin more genuinely this one time, the rich darkness of his lips reminding you of the treacly mess still on your plate as they split to openly show off his many fangs. His more unusual features are becoming increasingly apparent to you, and you realize you’re the one staring now.

“No,” he says while lowering himself to meet your gaze directly. Somehow his kneeling was more intimidating than the ominous looming. “No one here is.”

You didn’t really know what to say in response to that. You don’t even know why you asked. Were you hoping he would make a joke? Neither his presence nor his words were in any way helpful in assuaging your concerns. You conclude that this man is insane, and you may or may not be even more unwell than you previously thought.

He pouts at your lackluster reaction. “I know that look. You don’t believe me, do you? Don’t tell me you’re going to say something annoying like ‘am I dreaming?’ Or worse-“ You stop him by rising to your feet, the action itself bolder than you were. But you wanted to have a better look at him, now that curiosity was getting the better of you. The sensation of overarching dread was beginning to turn into a dull afterthought by now and you had already come this far.

“Your ears…” You start, unsure of where this was going anymore. He seems to welcome the inspection and plops down where you were sitting, offering himself to you. “My ears?” He prompts, rather unabashed in his own eagerness to hear what you could possibly have to say. His fingers lace together in his lap and he tilts his head a little lower, deliberately offering you a better view. You couldn’t help but be curious about how soft his hair was, seeing the way his bangs fell forward only adding to the untimely attraction.

“Um… I wasn’t going to ask to touch them.”

“You weren’t?! Why not?” His response was rather dramatic.

“Why would you want me to touch your ears?”

“Why wouldn’t you want to touch my ears?”

You pause, the temptation too great to back out. “Do you want me to…?”

“Do you want to?”

He clearly was playing with you. But you took another daring step forward. “Yes…?” He takes hold of your forearm, pulling you closer as his fingers slowly traveled to meet your own. They danced closer to the soft white fluff and you stiffen before any contact could happen.

“Are you… sure?”

He groans. “Yes, yes, just touch them already. I’ll answer your questions later.” Your finger grazes the outer part of the fur and you aren’t disappointed by the softness. Your attention falls on his claws once again, noticing their sharpness. You notice how he keeps them from digging into the tender flesh of your palm, how he must be able to feel the fluttering of your heartbeat. His grasp remains firm but not unpleasantly so.

“Why are you letting me do this?” You finally ask after some silence, your index finger still slowly tracing the same bit of snow-white fur. He looked so serene now. You could hear, no, feel a low sort of rumbling… was he purring or something? “Because, I figured it would help you calm down. And it has.” He finally releases your hand as he says this, but not without letting a claw ghost past your inner wrist to make his point.

“But do you like it?” Confusion and doubt overcome you once more, but he doesn’t answer immediately. You haven’t pulled your hand back. “Aren’t you a sweet one?” His eyes crinkle with an adoration that feels too thick and saccharine, as sudden and odd as everything that has happened in the last hour. You let go.

You want to apologize for everything again, and you want to tell him that you don’t know what is wrong with you or today. You feel like you’re in a fever dream and every single decision you’ve made, every single event you’ve experienced today has all been in your head and you’re some kind of lonely depraved freak. You feel like you’re somehow taking part in some kind of horrible and offensive act, and you don’t know how to make it stop. You feel like you should be ashamed for every single thing you’ve done in your life up to this point, like you’re some kind of a constant unsavory mess and-

He calls for you and interrupts what would have been infinite spiraling. “You really don’t let yourself enjoy anything, huh?” He snorts and grabs your unfinished plate, the leftover sugariness now beginning to crust over. Your throat tightens and you can feel the undesirable burn of emerging tears, but something inside of you finds a fraction of control again and you stop yourself. “I’m not sure you understand the kind of situation I’m in right now. I’m lost and in the middle of nowhere and I haven’t been able to-“

Your words are cut off as he suddenly pushes into your mouth a soft blackberry, a little bit of the still-warm pudding getting on your lips. You’ve never been more disgraced and weirdly worked up at the same time over such a simple action. “Why won’t you-“

“You’re not going to find her.” He says simply, picking another and raising it to your face once more. “You two must have been separated. It’s quite common, you wouldn’t be the first.”

“What?” You feel a horror like no other overcoming your body. Before you can even begin to say anything, sweetness arrives on the tip of your tongue once more. “Stop it,” you snap at him and shove his hand away. His ears rise up at the aggression. He leans back slowly, taking his time to lick at the pudding leftover from feeding you.

A hot flush of rage travels up your neck. At the same time, a tingling cold worry creeps up your spine. Is he lying? Why would he? Why is he treating all of this like it’s nothing?

What have you done to yourself?

“Your reaction is fair,” he says with a calculated calmness. “But it won’t change anything.” He’s looking elsewhere now as he speaks, eyes following something beyond the window behind you. “You’re not safe here. And you should know that leaving is not in your best interest either. Other fae aren’t anywhere near as patient as I am.”

“Fae?” You repeat incredulously, the fantastical notion pulling you from your outburst momentarily. “You’re telling me you’re some kind of fairy?” You blink at him with some judgement. He snickers. “What’s with that look?”

Your brows furrow and you scan his person again. “Don’t fairies have wings or something? Why are you a bear?” He looks almost offended at this question. “What, am I not pretty enough for your tastes?” Without thinking or missing a beat, you instantly say “No! You’re very pretty! You’re beautiful. But bears aren’t really what come to mind when you hear fae?”

He doesn’t respond for a moment. There’s a smirk on his face this time. “Beautiful, you say? Very pretty?” He draws out the words, standing at his full height for the first time since you’ve entered his home. You don’t realize you’re taking steps back until you see how many he’s taken forward, and the wooden counter behind you tells you you’re not getting any further.

“Why don’t you say it again?” He cages you in with his arms, and you now can see at this distance the now poorly-concealed freckles adorning his face. You feel enthralled in a way that simply shuts off your brain. He’s breathtaking. Literally. You can’t do anything but stare at him all bug-eyed like a fool.

“You’re very beautiful,” you tell him more shyly than the last time. “But you’re not listening to me.” He drinks in every single detail of the moment. The obvious discomfort and conflict you feel. Your scatterbrained tendency to not know where to keep your eyes. The delicious blush that subtly appears on the apples of your cheeks. He thinks of how your back curves against the countertop and how he could just keep you here all day, indulging in your every overreaction. He just wants to see how much of him you can take, how much bullying you can endure before losing all composure.

But that will have to wait. Yes, he has more than enough patience to strategize and plan for the longer game when it comes to his prey. And he’s never found a more willing target before. There’s something special about the way you show so much without even realizing. About how you clearly want him to keep leading you on, but hold back right before the best part. He feels like he’s on the edge of a high only you can provide and he doesn’t know if he wants it to end quite yet. So he leans forward, just one more inch, and inhales. To think clearer, to remember how he likes to do this properly. Then he finally finds it in him to pull back.

“We shouldn’t talk in the kitchen.”

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Fun fact I have not fully reread this finalized version I am basically just throwing a grenade full of paragraphs I’ve edited more than enough times to be (not?) satisfied with and then running away

What’s ridiculous about me making this is I’ve had an empty doc I occasionally type random notes and ideas in and then delete constantly for 5012 (character from ADWD/my profile picture in case you don’t know him definitely check that out) and I keep planning and trying over and over again to write for him but absolutely nothing satisfies me no paragraphs not even a sentence to start the story but then I just made this like that???

Anyway feel free to give feedback if you are gracious enough to even sit through and read all of this as this is the first actual fic I’ve ever written and published online since middle school and even then I only wrote two incomplete horrible VERY stereotypical y/n and CEO (I mean it, I was a big lore Olympus fan at the time 😭 oh webtoon days of my youth) meme level stories so idk about quality for this but I hope you enjoy some of it at least and please let me know if there are any moments where I messed up the perspective. I tried to leave this as blank as possible, outside of I suppose a more anxious personality type for the reader character. Feel free to insert an OC, yourself, nothing, etc. idk what I did here but I can’t stop thinking of Leshi and daydreaming for him and I’m happy I started writing again more than anything else hehehe.

Something else that’s weird about what I wrote here is the fact that ALLLLLL THIS PLANNING AND RESEARCH FOR 5012 HAS BEEN GIVING ME NO WRITING PROGRESS BUT THEN I JUST DID ALL OF THIS FOR LESHI FROM NOTHING??? This took me like two back to back at night sittings. ALL I HAVE ENDED UP SEARCHING UP FOR THIS FIC IS BLACKBERRY COBBLER RECIPES WHILE TRYING TO THINK OF HOW HE WOULD MAKE IT IN A FOREST (magic potions hopes and dreams is the answer btw) oh and what polar bears do with their ears when they’re happy lol because I like to imagine he enjoys being told off/it kind of riles him up but also makes him happy and I had to try and figure out what ear movement I think is both accurate and makes sense for that?? Idk if I got it right but it’s a creative decision for a fanfic that’s mildly self indulgent WHO CARESSSS YOUR HONOR WHO EVEN CARES I JUST WANT TO WRITE FOR CHARACTERS I LOVE

Also I wanted to make this something deeper but then suddenly lost the magical voice in my head that was trying to write a thriller and it turned into me really wanting to touch Leshi’s ears and idk maybe this is chapter 1 of a bigger Leshi fic or just one experience or something of the many different interactions I imagine he has had with previous humans who’ve fallen in the trap who knows

I guess it would make sense for a bigger Leshi fic to start nicer and lighter with random moments of doubt/almost horror before a big twist kind of thing that’s how I figure his route will start out. Sunshine and rainbows to being chased by a serial killer apex predator.

I can definitely see the quality dip from the first few paragraphs to the last but I low key don’t care and I don’t think anyone else does so enjoy the Leshi who is still holding back and indulge in some polar bear petting idk

Can you guys tell I really like blackberries and desserts with them and keep really badly trying to make a connection between the blackberries and Leshi can you guys tell I have assigned Leshi this food/vibe for some reason

Feedback or suggestions of any kind are very much welcome

If this gets any engagement anyway idk. I kind of want to write this whole encounter specifically from Leshi’s perspective maybe but some of this kind of WAS narrating his perspective?? Idk I think I mixed up a lot of past/present/future tenses in this and it’s largely because of the no planning and random choice to do this second person style by the time I was already typing it. Second person is somewhat new for me. All of this is. I haven’t written anything beyond quick sudden OC ideas in my notes app in years. Why the awful polar bear man made me suddenly do paragraphs doesn’t make sense to me either

I do notice that I overuse adjectives and kind of use too much stuttering in dialogue because I struggle with indicating the exact tone/ways the words would come out when spoken and idk how to fix that that’s just what happens every time I write dialogue that isn’t literally script format and I fear I am doomed to just keep doing it that way but if I turn my brain off when I (don’t) reread what I write and imagine the scenery this is the best way for me to put into words what I’ve loosely been daydreaming about and WHO EVEN CARESSSS

I’m adding all these extra comments because I’m afraid someone else will say them and think I haven’t already thought them BUT ALSO I WELCOME CRITICISM I crave it even ANYWAY CAN WE HAVE MORE LESHI FICS ON TUMBLR PLEASE I NEED LESHI FOOD

season 5, episode 5: Fallen Idols

Sam finds some seeds in the victims’ stomachs that came from a Balkan forest once inhabited by the pagan god Leshi. Despite previously having recognized an extinct plant species, Sam initially describes the seeds as “unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.” He figures it out eventually.

At around 28:45, Sam's laptop screen is briefly shown, displaying an image of a seed labeled “bugeraenun procerae” (which is not a real species) and text describing the corresponding plant as shrublike, producing “starlike minute flowers that bloom only once a year at midnight.” Many plants only bloom once a year, but the specificity of "at midnight" suggests that the supposed flowers only open for a short time in the middle of a single night, sort of like night-blooming cereus cacti, although there is no reason why every bud should bloom on the same night. A longer flowering period is much more practical, facilitating the simultaneity of flowering across individuals. I am not certain whether plants can control or coordinate when they bloom. In any case, the seeds shown on screen look a lot like peach pits, being relatively large, dark, and textured.

There are two shrubs which bear some small resemblance to the fictional plant. The first is similar in name, the second only in description.

Subreddit r/destiel user xain_the_idiot points out the existence of Calotropis procera, commonly called giant milkweed or Apple of Sodom. The latter name and its Biblical significance fit very well with the show's themes. Like other milkweeds, this species does produce small starlike flowers and rounded seed pods which can be a few inches long (bigger than the seeds in the show). The pods are meant to split open to release the actual seeds, which are tiny, flat, and attached to white fluff which carries them off in the wind. Apple of Sodom does not strictly bloom at night, nor is it endemic to Balkan forests. It is native to Africa and Asia, and is not rare or endangered.

Cestrum nocturnum, the night-scented cestrum or night-blooming jasmine, bears flowers composed of pale green tubes nearly one inch long, ending in white five-pointed star shapes. The flowers bloom at night and release a strong scent. The seeds are round, but smaller than those in the show, and are white and smooth when fresh. Night-scented cestrum is native to Central and South America but has spread to other continents and is considered invasive in New Zealand.

Various Artists - Women Against the Oppressive Regime organised by DIACI Community (DIY Podcast about Women in Georgian Music Industry)

He’s a noble treeant Vengeance Paladin/Swashbuckler rogue multiclass.

As a young sapling his parents were cut down before him leaving the opera. Now he seeks Justice in a world that denied it to him.

His name?

Spruce Wayne

Aka

Known by many as "Elf Giants", Leshin are the dour protectors of the ruined groves. They roam within the last remaining forests of the world; guarding the fauna within from potential hunters.

Leshin are a dying race in the Great No-Man's Land. Their homes were long destroyed and they cling to whatever still remains. Some have turned murderous, while others have become nihilistic and depressed. Yet their hope and dedication to the preservation of forest life, is what keeps this ruined world from wasting away.

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Made 12th of September 2022