#⋆.˚Rooted from the bottom bloomed into a tree⊹₊⟡⋆

[idesani]

⋆.˚Rooted from the bottom bloomed into a tree⊹₊⟡⋆

[heavenbloom]

🇵🇸 BEFORE YOU READ: BOYCOTT TLOU, AID, DAILY CLICK.

don’t skip over this. do what you can!

now playing: hold on — the internet

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, no plot, sub!ellie, oral (e!receiving), slight nipple play (e!receiving), hickeys, ooc probably, not proofread

it wasn’t a lust that gnashed its teeth. it wasn’t the all-consuming, foolhardy desire ellie was used to. no, this was foreign and torturous in its creeping. it twined through her ribcage and constricted her lungs, the roots of a tree scrabbling for the fresh soil of her heart.

this was more than clandestine journal entries or fumbling love songs in the comfort of her room. when she looked at you, what an angel, her very blood sang with hymns of your beauty.

each smile cast her way, each compelling stare, brought a new wave of something saccharine, blood rushing to her cheeks and rendering her throat dry. she’d never been robbed of words the way you snatched them from the tip of her tongue, with an absentminded, innocent brush of skin on skin.

there was a throb, an ache, within the very depths of her that demanded attention, yours alone. one touch, her soul silently begged. just one fucking kiss.

it was surreal, the reciprocation. she couldn’t quite believe it when her back hit your soft mattress, her cheeks a vibrant watercolour wash of pink. even as you stripped her unbearably slowly, she couldn’t keep her hands off you, if only to confirm that this was real.

when she laid bare beneath you, your hands gripped her wrists, pinning them to the side of her head gently. she let out something animal-like, a high whine bubbling from her chest as she felt the flame of your lips flicker down her neck languidly, taking their time as they trailed to her collarbone and reached the small swell of her breasts. a starlight of freckles danced across the skin there, with two rosy buds just begging for attention.

you kissed the skin there, delighting in the anticipatory way her chest heaved before you gave in to what she so desperately wanted.

your tongue swirled around one nipple, then the other, before latching your mouth onto one of them. a gasp rose from the girl beneath you, the velvet of your tongue causing her to arch her back slightly into your teasing touches.

“so worked up already…” you murmured against her burning skin.

she squirmed and twisted her wrists in response, as impatient as ever. although she could have easily broken from your grasp, she kept them down, suppressing the urge to touch your hair and hold your head closer to her chest.

you kept lavishing attention onto her, alternating between scattering sweetly stinging love bites across the flesh and sucking on her perky nipples. you could feel each tremor and deep, gasping breath, her body thrumming with life and need underneath you.

after her breasts were littered with the blooming purple-red of hickeys, you lifted your head to look up at her face.

a whine rose in her throat. “why’d you stop?” her usually deep and even voice was now wavering and raw with desire and desperation. auburn strands of her short hair were swept over the mossy green of her eyes, her pupils blown out and animalistic.

your fingers, phantom-light, slid from the bottom of her ribcage, down the plane of her stomach and to her warm cunt. your fingers grazed her slick folds, a sigh escaping her lips.

it was obvious she wanted your mouth elsewhere.

your lips followed the trail of your fingers, openmouthed kisses down her abdomen until you stopped at her cunt. a shiver passed through her body as she felt your breath ghosting over it.

you admired her cunt for a moment, pink and glistening in the dim warm light. you spread her folds with your fingers, the sound of it already obscene.

another tremor passed through ellie as she propped herself on her elbows. there was a wanton pinch to her eyebrows, her swollen bottom lip drawn between her top teeth. you would have loved to kept her teetering on the edge of pleasure, but who were you to deny her? she had already melted for you, syrupy and heady, like dissolved sugar.

your mouth met her pussy, lips delving into the slick sweetness that laid there, a sigh leaving your lips and reverberating against it. you licked a stripe up her slit, the taste of her arousal ambrosial. her cunt was petal-soft and heavenly on your tongue.

her fingers, in a frenzied movement, pushed your head further into her cunt, a moan puncturing the air, melodic and rippling through the air. your tongue swirled around the stiff pink bundle of nerves in response before your mouth closed around it and sucked gently.

your gentleness was a thing that ellie craved, the way your tongue carved out the purest of ecstasy from her depths with languidness and a few meaningful strokes.

her body writhed, hips bucking against your face in a plea of more, more, more. you were more than happy to oblige, tongue diving deeper as your nose nudged against her clit.

the swell of her oncoming orgasm was roiling within her, her entire body shaking beneath your ministrations. her thighs quivered in the heat of your fingers as you held them spread open for you.

with a burst of tension within her, her body began to convulse and tighten, a string of fragmented words and praises leaving her lips, broken up by unabashed whimpers and gasps. her head was thrown back, hair sticking to the base of her throat as she poured out pure euphoria from her being.

you lapped at her juices as if it were a thing of the gods, something to savour and worship, until you were certain the tremors in her body subsided.

you lifted your head, mouth and chin smeared with her wetness still, to get a better look at her. her breath came out in deep, drawling gasps, green eyes vibrant with the halo of a post-orgasmic glow.

with gentle movements, you propped yourself over her, brushing away the sweat-soaked hair from her face. you brought your face down, lips connecting with hers. she tasted it then, herself and her fervent desire for you, on the silky whisper of your tongue against hers.

her heart beat rapidly, with a newer thing coiling in her veins. she wanted more.

[causenessus]

try again

part 0.3. FEELING A LITTLE DAPPER

“she still has his contact in her phone. some days she still looks through their old texts; at the last conversation they had, without even knowing it’d be their last. other days, she hovers over the delete button, but she’s never hit it. she could never sever her last tie to him. she wants to believe that maybe their lives are intertwined, sewn together in some way. she looks at the prunus mume tree right outside her office window as she cleans up the place a bit. it had to mean something, right? to her, it didn’t signify a lot, just forever. it was a heart-twisting reminder of him every time she saw it, and she wonders, did he recognize the tree? when he walked into her office and stared out her window, did he recognize it as the one that bears his favorite food? her head instinctively turns to look at it every time she passes it by, much like she used to do when she’d walk by his house when they still lived close to each other, even after they stopped talking. it’s not like there’d be anything new about the tree she hadn’t already seen; the flowers were blooming from the branches dancing in the wind, and its roots were peeking out from underneath the ground, but she still can’t help turning her head every time she walks by it. she can’t ever stop herself from looking at anything that reminds her of him. which is funny, because she sees him in everything; every song is about him, every story is about him–he was everything to her, and he still is everything. he’ll always be in her life. not a lot, just forever.”

content warning: lighthearted joke about being an alcoholic

.

.

.

"when you walked in, i just stood still. i said, 'i'm sorry, love, i have no will. if i try to move, i'll break and spill. tired is the burning sea that calls me to the bottom like a stone. and i'm sinking alone.'"

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

today has been a day...so if this is a crusty boring chapter i am SO sorry

i tried i promise

when the tea gossipers gc moved in they all ended up writing like a document with multiple agreements

some of which being a cycle in which they will all cook for everyone, or if they're feeling lazy, they have to treat everyone out (but there's a $40 limit on how much they have to pay, anything more than that is either split between the rest of the three roomies or they'll each pay for their own drinks. tldr; there's lots of holes and amendments to this rule)

iwaizumi (although this applies to everyone, it's mainly for him since this is required in the rest of their jobs) is sworn to secrecy because he lives with three people who all specialize in dealing with serious cases and personal lives

omi is very admant about recycling. and he makes sure to wash out everything before it's recycled so that it's done properly (i'm projecting)

the tea gossipers went out to a sushi restaurant first before akaashi and y/n agreed it was too peaceful there and they wanted to go to a bar to drink (they're both only slightly tipsy atp, y/n doesn't feel like getting blackout drunk today and akaashi debating it rn)

the peas in a pod gc went to onigiri miya once omi got home when osamu stood there listening to atsumu explain the situation and try and convince omi to text y/n while omi ignored him the entire time

and then texted y/n five minutes later bc he couldn't hold himself back anymore

and as mentioned in the beginning :) y/n has kept his contact and a pfp of him from when he played volleyball when he was younger

taglist: @eggyrocks @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @iiwaijime @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru

[eggedbellies]

This is one of my dealer's choice commissions! Thank you anonymous, this was fun!!

Title: Midnight Search Wordcount: 1848 Kinks: tentacles, eggs / oviposition, suspension Synopsis: Jackson is a cleric with a job to do; get some flowers for a healing potion. Of course, they only bloom at night - and it seems something moved into the bog whilst he was away...

“Now ain’t this a damn fine idea?” Jackson heaved a great sigh from the very bottom of his chest, striding across the slightly boggy ground, deeper into the darkness. His bleeding heart had, once again, driven the cleric off in search of an unusual herb. There was no doubt that this stubborn curse required a very specific potion and, like the fool he was, he’d not ordered in any of the dried and powdered one for quite some time. No doubt a result of the particularly muggy summer, cracking open his reserve had revealed rather a fragrance of rot. Just wonderful. So now, here he was, letting his good boots get soaked with muddy water, heading off to find a flower as night truly fell.

“S’better fresh, at least,” he mused, wondering if he should’ve dragged on armour over the standard robes he’d taken to wearing. But getting a ponytail into a helmet was a nightmare, and whilst the bog was not the most pleasant place to take a trek, well, monsters were few and far between out here. Sure, he’d fallen off of the adventuring life and settled, it seemed; let himself soften down a bit, get a bit of a belly. But that was the nice thing about living out here, just being a local cleric, taking care of his community. Jackson was proud of what he did, dangit, and he wasn’t going to let a little thing like having to venture out to get ingredients stop him from making a cure.

The light was fading rapidly, but that wasn’t a bad thing – this particular bloom only opened it’s petals at night, but it was easiest to spot in the twilight. His boots squelched, the sucking water-mud mixture drawing his legs down with increasing power. Last time he’d been along here, he didn’t remember the bog being quite so deep… the edge of his robe was soaking quickly, unpleasantly sticking to his legs. Eugh. Gross. Murmuring a low incantation, sunlight glowed softly from his hand, casting the twisted trees around him, creating distorted shadows that he stoicly ignored.

Driving onwards, the trees got thicker and thicker, and still there was no sight of the soft pink glow of the flower that he needed. Damnit. There had to be something – this was definitely where he’d found them wild before. Casting his eyes up into the canopy, searching for any hanging by slender vine, he missed the roots that were rising just above the surface of the water – and with a yelp, his foot caught in it, casting him straight down into the pool with a loud splash. A moment later, cursing loud enough that a few birds took flight, he managed to drag himself onto a higher patch of ground, shaking water roughly off his robes. But it was too late. Soaked to the skin, Jackson reached up to squeeze his ponytail, grimacing. The light had flickered out, his concentration lost in the fall.

“Damnit to all Gods and Hells,” he muttered. This might be a lost cause. And now there was something wet and cold on his leg, probably a leech, which, ew. His hands began to reach down, searching for the offending insect, just as it occurred to him that whatever it was – it was far too big to be a normal leech. Eyes starting to adjust more to the dark, they caught the sight of something thick, shiny, rising out of the water, winding up his ankle – and then everything was cold and wet, liquid rushing up his nostrils as the cleric squirmed and fought, unable to cast a spell as he was yanked unceremoniously through the water. Just as he accepted that consciousness was about the fade and death might be around the corner, he was thrust into open air.

Gasping raggedly, he scrabbled hard, hands gripping at rock, mud, trying to pull away from whatever the hell was still wrapped around his leg. Twisting around, he aimed a kick, but succeeded in nothing more than entirely losing his boot. In here, there was a soft glow – from where he had no idea, but it suffused the small cave in an eerie pink light – and the air was unexpectedly warm, even if it was still damp. There, rising out of the water in front of him, a mass of lumbering tentacles. No beast he recognised, or had ever seen before - “What in the Gods-damned hells,” he gasped, coughing and spluttering, “are you?!” aiming another kick, even if it was bare foot, he wasn’t sure what was going to happen here. He didn’t know many violent spells, a healer by trade, but as he tried to summon up a simple ‘ignis’, it was too late.

They were everywhere. Soaking and slimy, and yet unbelievably strong, binding his wrists, jolting him up towards the ceiling. The ragged gasp was choked off, body covered in a writhing mass in what felt like a split second; one forcing it’s way into his mouth, coated in sweet water as well as something intensely earthy and natural. The sensation of his clothes being torn away was barely perceptible, all he could feel was every inch of those strong tentacles sliding over his body. Thick, pressing in to every part of his body, rubbing between his legs, spreading his cheeks, cupping his balls, stroking along the length of his cock… around his torso, over his thighs, and arms, and neck, not an inch of him was being left untouched. Struggling to gasp in air past the one that was wriggling into his throat, unable to get out a single word, more focused on just breathing, Jackson let himself relax.

There was no way out of this. And seeing as his cock was getting harder and harder, body tingling all over, he might as well enjoy it, right? Actually, the tingling was getting more intense by the moment, fogging everything over with a veneer of pleasure – whatever this damn thing was, it must have some kind of aphrodisiac in it’s slime – he had to get out of here – but as the goo oozed into his mouth, he was sucking on it like it was the sweetest nectar he had ever tasted. He couldn’t seem to stop, by the gods, it felt so good – something wrapping around his cock, now. It was drawing it down into something cool and so very, very wet – and all that thought went out of the window as the first tentacle began to push it’s way into his pucker.

“Oh, fuck -” he groaned, although it came out more like a garbled “hfh” because of the tentacle oozing down his throat. The tentacles were spreading his legs further, as if to gain more access, inch by inch of surprisingly thick tendril working it’s way into his orifice. His cock twitched, rock hard as the petals wrapped around it began to pulse and tug. He cried out again, trying urgently to roll his hips into it, needing more, more – but the tentacles were holding him tighter, forcing his trembling body to stay entirely still as tears rolled down his cheeks – not pain, but bliss, his body entirely accepting it’s invader. And still it sunk inexorably deeper – before releasing a spurt of cool fluid that made his whole body shudder as one, burning so hot that the coldness of the tendrils felt like a blessing.

It seemed happy with the depth it had achieved, now, starting to thrust. And oh, Jackson had never felt so much like a toy – it was using him, fucking him, like he was nothing more than a hole. It felt so good – his brain was lost in the fizz of aphrodisiac goo and the deep pleasure of being fucked hard. His cock twitched again, then again – and he came hard, right as the tentacle struck deep again. Every drop was drunk down, but he didn’t seem to go flaccid; whatever the hell this thing was doing to him, it seemed like it was going to drain him dry. The thought sent a cold thrill through his spine, legs twitching erratically. Fuck, hell, damns and gods, he never wanted it to let him go. The thrusts were rough, bouncing him despite the way he was being held. His body was relaxing, allowing him to stretch, taking a thickness he never imagined. Eyes rolling back, everything became just a wash of warm light and being used…

And then, suddenly, it froze. Totally still. Whining, Jackson tried to wriggle, to grind, but it wasn’t moving. Just as his eyes were starting to open, wondering if it was about to digest him, something began to press hard against his pucker. It was thicker than even the tentacle, bulging it out, but there was no doubting it was going to come in. It pressed inexorably, millimetre by millimetre, and then – with a faint pop – the egg entered him. Shuddering violently as he released a pittance into the tube around his cock, Jackson went utterly limp – not that it made a damned difference to the grip around him. But there was nothing to do. Slowly, it rolled up inside him, shockwaves of pleasure before it popped loose and settled deep inside him.

Then there was another. And another. Before long, a whole parade of round eggs were squeezing into his body. Jackson shuddered. The tendrils started to loosen their grip, just enough to allow for his rounding belly. A rough gasp escaped past the drooling tendril in his mouth, struggling to get enough air before let alone now that it felt like his very lungs were being compressed. Pop, press, release, swell – he rocked in the grip as best he could, starting to feel like a balloon, the tentacle sliding in deeper with his sheer weight. As the last egg popped inside, Jackson shuddered through a completely dry orgasm.

And then the tentacle began to loosen. He was being lowered. The grip around his body began to drop – thinking that he was falling, his arms flailed, grabbing at anything – and then he was being pulled again, dragged through water. Enough forsight this time to inhale first. The rush, now somewhat reduced by the size of his over-swollen belly – his sore hole, twitching spasmodically – the feeling of the water pressing on him – he almost came again just from being rushed back to where he was found. Dumped unceremoniously on the stream, he panted in air, crawling just a few steps away before his legs spread. Overstretched as he was, it took only a few strokes of his overly tender cock before all the eggs were rushing out, splashing back down into their pool. When he could think again, rubbing his tender belly with one hand, Jackson looked up at the starry night he could see through the gaps in the trees.

Then, languidly, he lifted up his other hand, still clutching whatever it was he’d grabbed from the ceiling of the cave. The soft pink glow of the flowers stared back at him.

“Oh, you’re fucking kidding me --”

[kaynanarie]

JourneyTober! Day 5 - Lotus

            Through the heart of the forest, a gentle brook weaved its way between tree roots and stubborn stone. Sunlight danced along the surface of the crystal-clear water, the current slow but deep. Speckled rocks and flittering fish could be seen all the way down to the bottom. It flowed over a rocky outcrop and into a tinkling waterfall before continuing its leisurely journey.

            “This is the perfect place to rest!” Jen declared. She dropped her backpack and perched on a nearby boulder to admire the scenery. Behind her, Monkey huffed but accepted the impromptu break. “It’s so peaceful. And look at all the flowers!”

            Decorating the side of the waterfall, lotuses were growing out of the craggy surface, delicate pink blossoms swaying against dark stone.

            “They’re so lovely; too bad they’re way up there. They must be pretty tough to grow so high up.”

            Jen dug around in her pack, handing Monkey her calabash. He took both gourds to fill with water while Jen laid out some fruit to snack on. Instead of the usual creek-side refill, Jen turned to find Monkey scaled halfway up the cliff face, already filling the second calabash directly from the waterfall. Jen just shrugged it off, leaving him to his business and munched on a handful of slightly squished berries.

            Despite the warm day, the shade was cool and the brook’s mist on the breeze was refreshing. Taking a deep breath, Jen closed her eyes to enjoy the serenity of the forest. Birds twittered in the air overhead. Leaves rustled and whispered from their branches. The gentle babbling of the brook blended into the soothing ambiance.

            Then the tranquility was shattered by a surprised yelp and loud splash.  

            Whirling around, Jen found Monkey in the pool at the base of the waterfall. He waded back to shore, his clothes and fur soaking wet. Even his poor tail was flattened and dripping water.

            “Oh my god, what happened?” Jen asked, yanking a blanket from her backpack and hurrying to him. Monkey didn't answer, face flushed and eyes averted in embarrassment. “Are you okay? Here, use this to dry off.”

            Jen tried to hand him the blanket but both his hands were full. One was still clutching the ties of the gourds. The other was holding something new. When Monkey noticed Jen’s gaze, his face burned brighter red and his tail lashed anxiously behind him. Before she could figure out what it was, the object was practically shoved in her face.

            It was one of the lotuses, freshly plucked from the waterfall. It’s delicate, pink petals were still sparkling with water droplets. The full bloom was wider than her palm and soft to the touch. She gently took the flower from Monkey’s grasp, eyes wide as she glanced from the gift back to him.

            “Did you pick this for me?” Jen asked, her cheeks turning a rosy hue.

            Monkey gave a curt nod, shuffling nervously in place. He still refused to look up, studying the patterns of water dripping off his frame. As touching as the gift was, seeing her monkey so miserable was too much for Jen to bear.

            “Why don’t we just camp here for the night? I’ll get some firewood and we can get you dried off, okay?”

            Again, Monkey only nodded but relaxed a bit at the suggestion. Tucking the lotus behind one ear, Jen unfolded the blanket and leaned in close to wrap it around his tall figure.

            “Thank you for the flower, it’s beautiful,” she whispered by his ear before pressing a soft kiss to his furred cheek.

            Monkey froze; eyes wide, wet fur puffed out, his tail stock-still. A surprised little chirrup rumbled from his chest when Jen pulled back with a giggle. By the time his senses returned to him, Jen had already skipped out of the clearing for firewood, leaving Monkey to ponder the all-too-brief kiss.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------(It shouldn't have taken me all day to write this and yet.)

[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

Mr. Sandman

Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

The Cursed Trio | Borderline

...

"Do you ever miss home?" Suguru asked out of the blue, eyes trained on your nightstand where a picture of your trio stood. A hat sat beside it.

It was from the night they took you to some sushi restaurant that served the sushi in this little train. You'd been so obsessed with it that you had begged them to come back the next day.

In fact, you came back so frequently that the owner gifted you with your very own train conductor's hat. And since you never came alone, Gojo and Suguru also got their very own hats. (One would also come with you if the other couldn't make it, but never once have you gone alone. It's like your own little hang out spot)

You, who had come back from a rather shit mission, tiredly looked over to Suguru's green. A shrug to your shoulders as you thought the question over.

"Sometimes...I try not to think about it so I distract myself with stuff."

Suguru chuckled under his breath, you've always been ridiculously blunt

"What was it like?" You softly groaned, throwing the First Aid kit into his lap as you settled near him. "If you're going to ask questions like that, you might as well bandage me up." And he did, without a second.

(he hated how the higher-ups have been working you down to the bone, and so suddenly too. Every day, your eye bags became more pronounced and wounds littered your body. You had a new scar on your top lip, on the side. It went with the one on the side of your left cheek. The one that looked like lightning's veins)

You sat there, on your bed wordlessly observing him clean up your wounds with such care it would make the sky cry once again. This entire day it's been raining non-stop, it's the reason why most of your clothing is dripping wet. The curse had been a particularly shifty one, evading your chains effortlessly much to your annoyance

Ah. It's raining again

Then again, rainy days are the best days to sleep in

"It was ... Nice, I guess. Neither good nor bad, it was what it was. You know? 'though, I do have this memory that I can't seem to let go of."

Suguru spared you a glance as he continued wrapping up your knuckles having just finished cleaning them with peroxide, you barely felt a thing. (While you do carry around a curse-energy imbued weapon, you have this strange preference to wrapping chains around knuckles and punching the shit out of curses. It's cathartic, you like to say)

"Which is?"

You hum, "At my old middle school, there was this giant tree. We all loved to climb it during recess time --- well, everyone else climbed it. I tried, really did. But for some reason, no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't reach its top. I settled for hanging around the bottom, but then again, sitting on the roots hurt me. So I just chilled on a bench, far from the tree yet still in its shadow. And I would watch as the others climbed it with no effort."

Suguru snorted softly, "That's a strange memory to hold on to." His words earned a short laugh from you, "I know. I think I remember it because I like how it changed colors with the seasons. Felt like it rained gold."

He finished wrapping your knuckles, quickly moving to the next hand as he shifted the limb into his lap, "...did you do it?"

You didn't even have to ask to understand what he meant, you never did. "Nah...did carve my name into it though. So I guess there's that."

"Why didn't you?"

You paused to ponder, "I think I...just accepted not being able to climb it as my fate. I could only admire."

A silence bloomed not long afterwards. By the time words were spoken once more, your head laid on his shoulder. His work with your knuckles having been finished a while ago, still your bandaged hand remained on his lap. Fingers entwined as he hummed a tuneless tune under his breath, the sound barely audible over the whirring of the air conditioning.

"What about your family?" "Alive, at least." "No more than that?" You felt his green thumb rub circles on the white strips, soothing away the red that bloomed on them. You knew what he meant, "No more than that. Not..not yet."

"Okay."

A heartbeat later, "Where's the cotton-head?" "Higher-ups sent him on a mission, he'll be back later today. Miss him?" You said nothing, focusing on slowing your breathing even further. That was all he needed to know,"Hehe, he'll be over the moon when he finds out." Turning your head, you warn the male with a light bite to his shoulder earning yourself an amused huff, "Fine, fine."

It's only then, mid-bite, that you see a thin silver thread hang from Suguru's neck. Snaking your unoccupied hand up to his chest, you carefully pulled the necklace out from under his shirt's collars.

A moon within a sun, "Satoru said he wanted us to match."

An eclipse, how fitting.

You shifted back into your previous position, this time though, you lay your head on his full shoulder than just the side. "Ha, he's the sentimental type. Would've never pegged him for it."

"That why you never call him by his name even though he explicitly told you to do so, on numerous occasions?" You made a face, pulling away from his shoulder --"I need you to be dumb, Sugu. You're too observant, it's annoying."

He laughed one of those deep laughs --- it's one of those that makes you breathless as you watch him with a smile of your own. The sight of a laughing soul is nice. They tend to glitter when they do so.

You would never admit it out loud.

You liked to watch him

His soul was a rather unique one, much like Gojo's. Except his case was far more unique than Suguru's. Gojo's had layers similar to an onion, the sight of him kept you on your toes at all times. On the contrary, Suguru felt more of a fogged mirror. You could wipe your hand on the condensation, except no matter how many times you wiped, the image would remain blurry.

Two lovely puzzles

All for you to solve

Yeah, they can never find that out

Ding!

Checking your phone, you see a new message notification on your lock screen. It's Ieiri asking if you're free right now

It seems that Suguru had read the message because the next thing he says is," I'm gonna go get some sleep." He delicately placed your hand back into your lap like it was made of glass. You frown.

"You're an idiot, Suguru." He hummed, walking out of your room. "Yeah, I just might be," he said. Shutting the door behind him, the silence too loud for your taste

Might as well see what Ieiri wants

There's a wooden bridge, right of the main building. Under said bridge, is a little spot you and Ieiri made using large stones as seats, where the two of you can speak in somewhat privacy. While the water embraced your naked toes (for free?), the light of nature glimmered on its surface tickling them.

Jumping down from the side of the bridge, you sighed at the sight of Ieiri already holding out her cigarette, waiting for you to light it as per agreement.

Usually, a dark pink, she's now a purple. The boundaries of her being a bit jagged --- upset.

You sat down on your rock, smooth and cold from the night's chill. "What happened?" You took a pink lighter out of your coat's pocket, cradling her end as you lit it.

You watched her with a careful eye as she tilted her head back, strands of hair dancing with the light breeze as she did so

One single drag, one single exhale, two lone words were all it took to completely destroy your world.

"I know."

Your whole being completely shatters with that one sentence. Such a short thing of a sentence, yet it's enough to have strike lightning into your soul.

Clicking your tongue, you proceed to take off your flats. Lightly shivering as you dip your feet into the cold water of the stream.

"Didn't think this is how the night would turn out."

"Didn't expect to find out what I did, but we both can't have what we want now, can't we?" There was an edge to her voice, sharp like the blade you use to slice through curses.

"How long?" "Long enough." This wasn't like the silence from earlier. It was hard on the lungs, thick enough to suffocate.

Gesturing for the box of cigs, she gingerly hands it over to you. Watching you with a scrutinizing eye as you take out a stick and light it. But you don't smoke it. The plume doesn't even meet your way as the wind guides it away from your area. And yet, you keep it there. Tucked right between your index and middle, silently watching the orange eat away at the paper until it reaches your fingertips.

You don't even wince when the fire burns your skin.

"Why?" You sighed, answering your friends question. "In the beginning, I didn't have much of a choice. It's either, I do it or I'm out."

"Out?" "Dead." "Ah." Another inhale. "I stopped not long after. I just...couldn't do it anymore." Were you lying?

Another exhale, "They deserve to know." "They do."

She glanced your way, "Will you?"

"Eventually."

"So what, you'll accept your fate? Death?" What a confusing woman.

Ieiri groaned in exasperation, her jaggedness dulling, "Why? Why did you do it? What could have possibly compelled you to do it?"

"No." "No?!" "No. Change the topic or I'll leave."

You might as well, you've already done enough damage as it is

That kept her quiet. No more was said as the two of you sat there, under the wooden bridge listening to the running water at your feet. She couldn't bring herself to say something, just as you couldn't bring yourself to utter a sound.

Too much, too little time. That had been the problem in the first place. Way before you had even arrived in Japan. If only you had had enough time perhaps things would've been different.

No, no. They would have been different, you're sure of it.

You took a deep breath --- you can't do this anymore.

Standing up, you made a move to walk away. Still, Ieiri called out for you, "What will you do now?"

You could see a familiar figure walking your way, a stupid grin on his face as he waved at you like a maniac

You smiled a sad smile

Not the first, and most definitely not the last of it's kind

"Make up for it."

And, you left.

...

(A/N): Well, that was a lot. Wonder what that was all about. Ngl, the idea came to me halfway into this and I was genuinely debating whether to go for it or not. But I mean, if it adds to the plottttt. Also, it just makes sense

Song Inspo: Mr. Sandman - SYML

It's obvious Suguru wanted to ask more, I wonder what he wanted to ask.

Why is Gojo's soul like an onion with layers and Suguru's a fogged mirror? What does that mean?

What exactly does Ieiri know?

And what do you mean 'too much, too little time'? What exactly did you do that dying is your consequence?

Originally, it was supposed to be "Alive and well." but I changed it to "Alive, at least." 😳

I wonder if there's any symbolism here...

Drop a comment

Feel free to buy me a 🦩

Hope you enjoyed!

[snarky-art]

Daphne coronation day fit idea

Not sure if I’m totally happy with it but it’s a start at the very least

She went through this ceremony before she died when she was 4 and started working with The Flame, but she wasn’t wearing the front headpiece with the cyan gem in it that time. She was wearing the other one with the additional flares on the outside of it and the purple gem, the one used for the heir that’s using the flame. The cyan one is simply for an heir for the royal family. She wears it this time since she is no longer the holder of The Dragon Flame.

This ceremony is done this time after Marion, Oritel, Bloom, and Daphne have a long and serious conversation after Daphne is healed and in a much better place mentally and physically about what Bloom and Daphne would like going forward for their positions. It’s decided Daphne shall remain heir and next in line for the throne and Bloom shall remain holder of The Dragon Flame and second in line, allowing her more flexibility to visit between Earth, Domino, and wherever else in The Magical Realm she’d like to go.

Ceremony details below the cut!

Before the ceremony starts she steps into a fire at the beginning of the hall to mark her feet.

She'll have her eyes painted with soot and her forehead and the center of her lip will be marked with it too during the ceremony by an elder who has worked and trained with The Flame.

She will then dip her fingers into flame and bury them into the soot at the bottom of it (Dominions have decent fire resistance don't worry, and Daphne is especially resistant, virtually immune. The reason she got burns before dying is a mix of her body struggling to function without The Flame by focusing on the most basic functions needed to survive and because that fire wasn’t regular fire. It was imbued and caused by such potent magic with a great ill intent and want for destruction)

The ceremony is then completed and she is given a staff made from The Great Tree's wood with foliage wrapped over it and a gold egg with imagery of The Great Tree (pictured in the second image in this post) and is declared the heir proper.

Soot in different places mean different things

For the eyes, the visions of The Dragon, showing It’s will

The mouth, to speak It’s will

The forehead, to give the being It’s ideas and wisdom

The hands, to enact It’s will

And the feet, to follow It and go where It wills There's other options too for people with different disabilities, but those are the basics and the ones Daphne is doing.

For the order the 3 circles symbolizing birth, life, and death, are meant to be read in that are shown in repetition throughout the imagery, they can technically be read either way, but typically the cycles of birth, life, and death are read from bottom to top

For The Tree, it shows how life begins at the roots, where The Dragon is said to be sleeping under it, then the trunk, life as it grows, and the leaves, death, since they are the thing that wither and fall

Same on the face paint. When people die, their last breath is said to return to the dragon. So for it to be on the lips, as that's where the last breath is taken, it's typical for that. Life continues so long as breath passes through the neck, and the base of the neck is where that breath is shown to start, or at least that is what older customs believed and dictated when these ceremonies first started as remembered in Dominion history, and it has stuck ever since.

And then for it to be on the top of the old Flame symbol, it starts in the tinder, lives with the body of the fire, and then death at the top where it withers and flickers faintly.

I explain more in depth some stuff and other bits of symbolism found in Dominion culture in this post about Bloom’s Mythix also if you want to check it out!:)

[leaves-and-inks]

Quinn Cyprus has a warm attitude and a reassuring charm, but hidden behind his easy smile is a past he’s never stopped running from….

Character sheet for my bg3 tav, Quinn (and one of his animal companions)!! I really wanted to practice rendering things like fabric and skin, esp. in different lighting situations, and also refine my style (I went too long not drawing lips lol). I had fun working on this and learned a lot! It was good to try and figure out his design too, especially in color. It’s different than how I dyed his cape/armor in-game but I don't have mod support yet and there's only so much you can do with the regular dyes 😅 He did also end up with Volo’s blue eye, for Reasons. (maybe I’ll make a comic on it, but tbh I’m still figuring out that part of his backstory lol).

[ID: Several Illustrations of a man, as well as a Cara Cara, on a textured tan background with a cream border. In the bottom left is the text: “Quinn Cyprus” handwritten in multicolored bubble letters. The man has tan skin with freckles and a partial beard, and two different colored eyes. His left is his natural brown eye and his right is a blue eye. He has several facial scars; a wide one across the bridge of his nose, a small one at the bottom of his lip, and two slash-like scars in his left eyebrow. He has a dagger tattoo wrapped in a vine on his neck, directly in the center. He also has a short mullet, with dark brown hair and white sideburns. In the main illustration, a bust, Quinn is on the bottom left of the page wearing a green and white shirt. He has a calm smile. To the left is a close-up on the downturned dagger tattoo. The vine that wraps around it ends in a wilted flower blooming at the tip, and it also has roots up at the end of the handle. Above is another close up of a tattoo drawn to be flat on the page; branches of a cypress tree. The second Quinn drawing is above that. He lays down in a field, resting against a western saddle and saddlebags. He's wearing the same green and white shirt, as well as green pants, and brown cowboy boots with a white toe tip. He looks up wistfully at the sky, with one hand over his stomach and one leg bent up. On the right of the page is Quinn standing in front of an explosion, reaching for a handheld crossbow at his hip. He’s wearing a woolen poncho/shawl, which dramatically flies over the opposite shoulder, chaps with some fringe, and leather armor over his torso. He also wears a wide brimmed hat that casts a shadow over his surprised face. His right hand reaches behind his back, holding a dagger, which only the blade and half of the hilt can be seen. Below him is the drawing of the cara cara, its wings partially unfurled, and its head turning right. It looks at the first drawing of Quinn, a green dotted line cutting across the canvas from its eye to his eyebrow scars. Four pointed stars are scattered across the page./end ID]

[the-red-thread-that-strangles]

Family trees

The day Akai Shuuichi is born, his father plants a sapling.

A weeping willow, as is custom for his time of birth, raised from seed to sapling by the young couple while Mary was pregnant, put onto the earth at the same time as the child. While not as strong as the oak, or as regal as holly, they hope their son will grow to be just as flexible, able withstand the adversities life will surely throw at him.

.

As the child grows, he's taught to take care of his birth tree. It grows rapidly, and needs trimming each season so it stays healthy, so perhaps sooner than he should, Akai gets to hold the pruning shears, snipping away where his father tells him to.

.

He plays under it - he's too young to climb it yet, and so is his tree. It sways gently in the wind, a mosaic of light and shadow across his face as he weaves through the branches, laughing without a care in the world.

.

He gets a baby brother, and really annoys his mother that one time by hiding the both of them under his willow's branches.

.

By the time he's ten, the willow is as tall and lovely as it could be. In spring, the catkins bloom, small and hidden, without fragrance, but still buzzing with activity. The child is equally unobtrusive, unbothered by the insects. One of the branches has been allowed to grow sideways, close to the ground, and Akai is often found lazing around on it, napping or reading, shielded from the rest of the world.

.

By the time he's 15, the willow has reached full maturity.

It's only natural, then, that so has the boy of days-gone-by. He leaves his roots behind, branching out to find the one he lost.

.

Akai runs to the last place he called home when his cover is blown, to lay low and recover for a few months.

His family home has been abandoned for more than a decade now. Family friends have been checking up on the grounds to make sure there are no squatters, and a gardener came by every year to make sure it doesn't look completely abandoned up front, but the small garden behind the house is wild and overgrown.

He spends his time trying to undo the damage time and abandonment have wrought.

Some are beyond help.

His father's mighty oak has fallen, withered from within. He spends a week cutting it down into firewood for the winter, although it's likely he won't be here for it.

His brother's rowan needs pruning, having grown wild and unfocused, though there's a lovely set of wild roses that's grown beside it. He can't bear to cut them all down, so he just trims both of them down to size.

Below his willow, small white flowers that dwell in twilight have grown, their blossoms wilting in the late summer heat. It's a shame he didn't get to see them bloom. Poison ivy has started wrapping itself around the bottom of the tree. It might be poisonous to humans, but it won't hurt the willow while it's healthy, so he leaves it be.

If it's weak enough to be consumed by the ivy, then so be it.

.

He's not there to witness it, but when he's thirty-two, the willow is struck by lightning. The ivy burns with it.

.

The next time he visits, the willow is starting to wilt, itself.

Lack of care during its prime hasn't done it any favours, and it's probably really only still in shape because the ivy has wound itself around the stem quite tightly. In fact, the burnt and blackened parts, destroyed past recognition, are covered by it, making it appear healthier than it really is. But Akai has cared for his tree for years and years; he knows it will soon be time to cut it down in order to not become a hazard.

It's a bit of a shame; birds are singing in its branches, bugs and bees have made it their home, and when he kisses his lover behind a veil of leaves, for a moment, the world narrows in on just the two of them.

(He should've brought Rei sooner.)

.

They stay for a month, their first real vacation in years now, watching as the leaves turn brown and then, finally, fall.

While they wait, they tend to things - the house, the garden, themselves and each other. It's a far cry from the lives they usually lead, bringing with its own set of challenges, but they manage to weather them, together - even if it is strange and sometimes difficult for the other to be around at all times. This is the path they've chosen, the one they want to travel together. They're not backing out easily.

Which is good, because getting the necessary phytosanitary documentation for bringing a branch-turned-sapling to Japan is a bit of a pain.

They leave the old willow behind, cut up into firewood, the ivy grown in too deep to separate. One day, their ashes will be scattered together.

.

They dig a hole, together, and plant the sapling in the company of friends and family.

Just like the child it was bound to, long ago, the willow comes back from the dead in their new home. Theirs is a small house in the outskirts of Beika, much more of the grounds they purchased together dedicated to creating a garden.

For now, Akai tends to it. Eventually, his husband will retire there, too.

.

The seasons come and go, the years pass, and eventually, the willow is large and lovely, though a little lonely, standing tall and proud on its own. Flowers may grow in the meadow beneath, but all trees are kept a certain distance, to preserve its majesty.

It's Rei who makes the suggestion one evening as they're reading in the study, pointing to an illustration of 'àitason', the married vine.

For rather obvious reasons, they've never quite gotten back into drinking heavy liquor, but on occasion, they do enjoy a glass of grape juice, fermented or otherwise, and Rei's been pushing for growing some grapes of their own. He used to leave his husband free reign (leading to lots and lots of hydrangeas), but now that Rei's retired too - and hey, even a couple years early, Akai's counting it as his win - Rei's got his own ideas for what to do with their garden, nitpicking and nagging in that passionate way of his that just shows how much he cares. Akai wouldn't have it any other way.

So he agrees.

.

Despite their shared experience - Rei getting dragged in under grumbled protests many times throughout the years, though he eventually relents that it is actually quite pleasant to work side by side with Akai again - it takes them several years and just as many attempts to get the grapes to stick.

It tastes like defeat, every time they watch the vines wither and die, never even reaching the willow's tall branches. But if they've kept anything from the tumultuous days when they first started dating, it's their attitude to keep trying and trying to make things work. If a couple of years in a long-distance relationship, stationed on different sides of the globe, haven't managed to disentangle the pair of them, a streak of horticultural failures won't break them either.

They're revitalizing their life together, now that they can, and this challenge is just adding spice.

Shuukichi's twins save them, eventually, clambering up the tree to wrap the vines several times around a branch to steady it. Akai had insisted he could do it just fine, and then Rei had knocked the walking cane from his hand and caught him as he stumbled, stealing a kiss and handing the can back. While Akai prefers Rei's breathless 'yes', his cheeky 'no' is almost as good.

And when the vines still hold onto the stem in a gently curved arc after a storm, and Rei kisses him silly, well, it's just the two of them again, like so many years ago.

.

The willow turns twenty-five, and the pair of them renew their vows beneath its branches. They've taken good care of it, this time around; it will last a good twenty-five more, though the same might not be said for them.

Weeping willow is an accurate name for the occasion- they've never expected to make it this far, and now that they have, it's worth celebrating their roots.

The days are getting longer and harder, but their love is still growing softly and steadily, gently winding around them.

They've managed to produce just enough grape juice to give each of their guests a shot glass' worth.

.

The willow is growing old and rugged, despite good care.

Their gardening days are over, and so the plants are mostly left to their own devices unless family comes by to help out - which is every two weeks, when Masumi comes by and brings her kids. Grumpy teens they may be, but Akai once was one himself - he knows how to get them to open up about their interests, when to drop a spy fact to impress them.

Akai's been slowly losing his vision, leaning on his husband for support and descriptions. Rei's laughter, quiet, but true, by his side when he strings them along is his greatest joy. Maybe he did learn a thing or two from his husband's machinations.

.

They sit, one afternoon, under willow and vine, taking a nap. Akai doesn't wake up anymore, finally having found peace.

Rei keeps his husband's ashes, so when he, too, passes, they can be scattered together.

He doesn't have to wait long. Without Akai to grasp for support, there's little to hold him anymore, and soon he, too, collapses.

.

Together, they return to the earth from whence they came, under their beloved willow tree.

[repo-net]

EO5-Styled intros for the stratums from EO1 and EO2!

I finished playing EO5 a while back, and one of the things I really liked about the game were the short narrated sequences that played when you reached a stratum for the first time. The voice actress kills the role, and just the music slowly kicking in as she introduces just what you're about to get yourself into - aaahh, it's so good.

To help practice a bit of my description writing when it comes to locations and short tidbits of lore, I decided to try my hand at doing my own renditions of these sequences for the EO1 and 2 stratums! Hopefully they look alright, eheh.

Spoilers under the cut!

EO1

Every adventurer has a dream: whether it be for glory, for riches, for knowledge, or for purpose. Without fail, all of them flock to this mighty tree.

Regardless of the purity in their heart, the first step into these vast greenlands is filled with ambition.

That very same ambition is what has led to the end of so many. And yet for you, it may just be the start…

The legendary story born from hope blossomed here.

The first stratum, Emerald Grove

Descending down the stairs, a new layer of the labyrinth welcomes you.

Darker than the last, the tropical wilderness buzzes your ear with the sounds of trickling water, and cries of a new set of beasts.

Those who basked in their success of survival of the basics; learned far too late…

… That here, nature reigns supreme.

The second stratum, Primitive Jungle

Conquering the lord of the jungle, a mesmerizing sight shines against your eyes.

A moist scent wafting in the air, with a cobalt hue that makes one forget you’re still within a forest.

A queen of the insects lies in wait here, and below even her grasp is a mystery only a handful have seen, yet one question continues to prod.

Has that secret been forgotten by age, or has it grown into something more?

The third stratum, Azure Rainforest

Layer after layer of blooming life, comes to a harsh, arid halt upon this new arrival.

These wastelands filled with long stretches of beige and grains scraping against skin, is the very home of an ancient race.

They speak of a century-old pact, fully ready to defend their turf. To hide what’s below, and to see what’s below.

Wills even in the face of death are about to be tested here.

The fourth stratum, Sandy Barrens

Only the cursed king on his throne in the abyss remembers that golden age.

A world overwhelmed by verdure and promises of revival. A time and tragedy that only one man can tell the true story of.

Structures and mechanisms that you have never seen the likes of, with memories so distant, but so near all the same.

The mysteries that have been kept under for a millenia, it is your destiny to unravel them and see for your own - the secrets of Yggdrasil.

The fifth stratum, Lost Shinjuku

Below even the origin of creation is a place past the naked eye. 

A system of organs solely out of the blood dripping from stratas above, drenching the pulsing and veiny walls with a sickening red.

Screams and wails of agony from a creature tortured by its purpose, engulfing itself in this cavern to take its revenge on trespassers that were never meant to reach here.

For descending to the roots of this labyrinth, its very core will stop at nothing to engrave you into it.

The sixth stratum, Claret Hollows

EO2

The second saga of a legend already born, or the first for the arisal of new ones.

Whoever the author may be, this story begins all the same, with an invitation from a new land to ascend to heights yet to be reached.

These grassy woods that surround the bottom of the mighty tree…

Mark the intro for an adventure unlike any before.

The first stratum, Ancient Forest

Pushing through the daunting beginning trials, an opening paves way into a new flavor of woods.

These orange lands filled with prickly tails and segwaying paths; they provoke the explorers with a dilemma.

Will you grit your teeth through thorns for instant gratification, or will you dance with the roars of beasts seemingly undentable?

Be decisive, lest you go a route that leads to a pitiful end.

The second stratum, Auburn Thicket

Biting through fragile flesh, as soon as getting past the heat of the thicket.

Grazing against the adventurers, a stinging test from the polar opposite on the journey up north.

This icy surface, disrupting the pursuit towards the top, has spelled the end of many tales thought to be on the road of destiny.

Pass by these freezing storms, and at the peak awaits a tragedy long foretold; yet this is only one of his many, many failings.

The third stratum, Frozen Grounds

Lagaard knew not what was past those snowy acres, until they arrived; and now - they continue to soar.

Like the monsters and curious souls that reside here, these pink, rosy blossoms mark the start of heights never been reached.

Through echoes heard upward, each footstep through this cherry territory serenades the adventurers.

Keep on climbing, recite a long lost grail, and you’ll be one step closer to the heavens. But tread carefully - the war ahead may overwhelm even those chosen by fate.

The fourth stratum, Petal Bridge

The world was once overtaken by Earth itself. Those fortunate enough, built a stronghold to survive.

Centuries passed. And eventually, not even the stronghold could hold its strength. 

The one constant… was him. 

Renewing it to his liking, a phenomenal palace not even fairy tales could mold. A castle glistening with gold, proudly idling above the skies where no one could reach him. No matter how long it takes. No matter how many will be lost.

Despite all the years, he’s always kept one promise burned into his mind.

“Humanity must survive.”

The fifth stratum, Heavenly Keep

Eternity - a word no mortal could understand the true weight of. 

An eternity of mistakes. An eternity of lives lost from obsession. 

An eternity of abominations created by his hand. Yet not one was worse than his first.

Over his created heaven, was a forest so eden, so seemingly tranquil; yet nothing was more dangerous. It’s a sanctuary with just a singular purpose.

A forsaken prison, to house his darkest criminal.

The sixth stratum, Forbidden Wood

[acourtofmenandthirst]

The Fox & The Hound

Eris x Reader, based off a request! I combined this with an idea @azsazz came up with a long time ago, so this was the perfect combination! Featuring baby Lucien, he's only about 1-2 years old (I have no idea how old kids are when they're walking/talking, etc. so just go with it lol)

Warnings: Beron being an asshole, rabbit stew

Word Count: 2.6K

Eris crossed over the stony bridge, officially leaving the grounds of the estate for the dense forest before him. Lucien watched as the Forest House grew smaller and smaller, the farther Eris carried him into the woods. Eris patted his back, cradling the babe close to his chest. With his chubby cheek pressed to Eris’s shoulder, he garbled a few words of nonsense, grabbing at the brown piping on his eldest brother’s jacket. 

Carefully stepping over the piles of leaves and loose rocks, Eris’s hand rubbed over Lucien’s back, keeping him calm as they escaped the loud household. Eris was quick to pick up on the telltale signs of his father’s anger, the yelling between his parents ensuring things would turn ugly fast. He took Lucien from his room, where he was surely able to hear the shouting echoing off the stone walls, and made haste for the foggy woods. 

Eris had spent the past many decades of his life taking his brothers out of the house in moments such as these, shielding them from the abuse he wished someone would have protected him from. Many years were spent in the river beside him, teaching each of his brothers how to fish, showing them how to hunt, set traps, and wield their fire. Lucien, the youngest of the unruly boys, seemed to invoke a special kind of anger in their father, something Eris wasn’t sure Beron even knew the root cause of - it was what Eris prayed to the Mother above about each night: that his father didn’t truly know. 

He propped his brother at his side, hooking his arm around the babe tightly, turning him forwards to see the expanse of the forest in front of them. Lucien blabbered on, something about the colors on the trees, red and lellow - Eris didn’t try to hide his smile. But he continued on, pointing things out to Lucien as he expertly followed the trail between the trees. It was a path Eris carved himself: dry grass trampled beneath his horses hoofs, flattened under Eris’s own boots; he walked that path a million times to your little cabin on the outskirts of town. 

Without any warning at all, the older male swooped toward the ground and plucked a blooming flower from the earth. Lucien exploded with laughter, tiny fists grabbing at Eris’s coat, legs kicking at his sides. The babe’s bright eyes shut as his cheeks reddened, nothing but pure joy at his brother’s antics. Eris tickled Lucien under his arms, in which he knew he barely actually touched him through his many layers and thick corduroy jacket; but he squealed nonetheless, perhaps just happy to be spending time with his older brother.

“This,” Eris began, once Lucien had calmed. “Is a Celosia.” Lucien’s eyes widened, mouth dropped open in awe. Eris twirled the spiky red flower between his fingers, showing his brother the new object. He caught the drool forming on Lucien’s plump bottom lip before it fell to his coat, wiping his knuckle against the babe’s lip before tickling his nose with the tip of the flower. He handed it to Lucien, whose smile widened as he grabbed the plant with both hands. “Gross,” the older male muttered, wiping the baby drool off on the side of his pants. 

As he approached the small clearing near the river, Eris caught sight of a hole buried deep under a tree root. He inspected the area, catching sight of a pair of glowing eyes. Lucien’s attention shifted to the approaching fox, crawling cautiously out of the dark cavern. Eris stood still at the edge of the nest, watching as one approached, followed by another, and another. They walked around Eris’s feet, swirling between his legs like how the mist curled around the mountains. 

Lucien hurled himself forward, arms outstretched towards the fuzzy foxes. Eris caught the babe quickly, leaning over to set Lucien on his wobbly feet. He managed to hold himself upright, but only until one of the foxes lunged toward him, standing on its hind legs to sniff his curly red hair. Lucien fell on his bum, nothing but laughter and smiles as his hands came up to pet the animal. 

Eris smiled, settling down on a large rock beside the den. He ran a hand through his own hair, loose against his forehead, and glanced up at the sun. It was nearing sunset, leaving the sky streaked with orange and red, kissing the tops of the darkening trees. He turned his attention to the ground when something pulled on the hem of his pants - expecting Lucien, he turned his head with a small smirk, prepared to meet his excited brother. With a quirk of his brow, his lips pressed into a firm line, watching as the dark brown paws clawed gently at his leg. 

The fox peered up at him with a tilted head, spiked ears propped up in curiosity. Eris mirrored the animal, turning his own head as he tried to shoo away the small kit. Those trousers cost more than he cared to admit. With a shake of his leg, the fox ran around his other ankle, waiting for Eris to settle back before crawling over his boots again. 

Lucien giggled in front of him, waving his hands around as the other foxes jumped around him. The older male huffed, pushing himself to his feet, grabbing Lucien and hoisting him away from the rowdy animals. “We gotta get going,” Eris said to him, straightening out his little jacket. “It’s getting late.” 

Lucien’s eyes widened, staring up at his brother in disbelief. As Eris took a step forward, away from the skulk, Lucien started screaming, yelling out in irritation. Eris shushed the babe, patting his back as he continued on down the path, but Lucien was not to be calmed. He twisted and turned in Eris’s arms, reaching out for the one fox following them. 

Eris pressed forward, taking longer steps, hoping to lose the kit - but to no avail. The farther the fox followed, though, the softer Lucien’s screams were, and no longer was he squirming in Eris’s grip. “Come, come,” Lucien called, reaching over Eris’s shoulder out toward the animal. 

The tall male stopped in his tracks, holding his leg out to try to stop the fox. It simply walked around him, plopping down on the soft earth, waiting for Eris to continue. Lucien twisted, calling to the kit, who was seemingly only waiting for Eris’s next move. 

“My dogs will eat that thing,” Eris muttered, trying to wrangle Lucien in his arms. 

But with no sign of stopping - Lucien or the fox - Eris huffed. “Fine,” he sighed, mostly to himself. “Let’s all go then.” He began trudging down the path again, letting Lucien fawn over the animal that trailed closely behind. 

The minute they approached your cabin, though, Lucien smiled, turning his attention to the tiny front door. You’d stuck more flowers into the pots beside the landing, Eris noticed the dianthus, pointing it out to Lucien, too, who seemed fond of the purple petals. With nothing more than two knocks, Eris let himself in, ducking his head to step inside.

You met the males in the living room, as you wiped the flour from your hands, greeting the both of them with a smile. While Eris dropping by in the evening came as no shock to you, the extra visitors were a pleasant surprise. Lucien made grabby hands for you, leaning far away from his brother. You plucked him from Eris’s grip, happy to see the babe, despite the pull at your heart as you cradled him to your chest in a hug. Eris frequently visited you, but you knew he only brought Lucien when things turned sour at home. 

Lucien wrapped his arm around your neck, grabbing a fistfull of your hair as he planted a slobbery kiss to your cheek. “Hello, Lu Lu,” you crooned, cradling his head in your hand. You twirled his red curls, much like his older brother’s, and propped him up on your hip.

Eris rolled his eyes, in jealousy no doubt, placing his first finger under your jaw and turning your chin away from Lucien, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. The babe in your arms was already distracted by something beside him; you followed his line of sight to the open doorway. “Brought a new friend?” You asked, eyeing the small fox sitting in the open doorway. 

As Eris moved to shut the door, the kit jumped through, landing on the hard oak floor. You cocked a brow at the male, who shrugged in response and loosed a sigh. Don’t ask. 

You made your way to the kitchen with Lucien held sturdy on your hip, leaving Eris and his pet in the living room. Lucien giggled, sticking his hands in the pile of flour on the counter. He slapped his hands together, shrieking as it made a cloud in the air. You placed the small ball of dough in the cast iron baking dish, helping Lucien to sprinkle some of the powder atop the bread. “Good job,” you hummed, trying to wipe off his hands with the apron hanging off your waist. 

Lucien mumbled some incoherent words, to which you adamantly agreed, nodding along with his ramblings. You made sure the babe was held on your opposite side as you moved to the oven, placing the dish in with your other hand. You kept him as far away from the oven as you could, but he reached out for it. You weren’t sure if it was the innate fire simmering in his veins that made him grab for it, or if it reminded him of Eris, the male who ran hotter than that oven at most times. You liked to think it was the latter.

Eris was simply drained after caring for the babe all afternoon. He sat slouched in your small dining room chair, legs spread out into the walkway, shoulders shrugged and arms sprawled out on either of the arms. The fox was curled up, laying over the bridge of his boot, tail curled up into its chest. You slowly made your way to the table he sat beside, bringing him the mug of tea you’d been sipping on. 

You plopped Lucien on the rug, the babe stumbling over to where Eris and the fox were so well relaxed. The fox yipped when Lucien made to pet its fur, shiny crimson coat so captivating in the faelight. “You don’t want any babes of your own, my beloved?” You stood across from him, eyeing his exhausted state of being. 

He heaved an exasperated sigh. “Our children would be much better behaved.” He stared into space, eyes unfocused, but in Lucien’s direction, where he was crawling around on the floor, behind the fox, mimicking his sneaky walk. 

You tut at him, running your hand over the side of his head and through his hair, mucking up his wild hair. You dropped down in his lap, smiling to yourself as his arms wound around your waist and he nuzzled his chin in the crook of your neck. Your hands fell to his, tracing the warm skin over his knuckles. He hummed against you, relishing in your sweet smell - the flowery scent of your hair and aroma of freshly fallen rain that laced your skin. 

“Leaf?” Lucien questioned, drawing both of you out of your daze. His small hand ran over the fox’s tail as his golden eyes washed over the red fur.

“That’s a fox, Lucien.” Eris was so tired.

“Leaf,” he said again, more desperate, pointing at the fox.

“He’s naming him, Eris,” you whispered, dropping your head back against his, your temple resting against the top of his head. 

“Fuck no, we’re not naming him Leaf.”

“Fuck,” Lucien repeated, stumbling over the word. You smacked the back of Eris’s hand, but the male only laughed, burying his face into your neck. 

The two brothers stayed for supper, feasting on the tender rabbit stew you prepared. You and Eris took turns ripping up small pieces of bread and meat for Lucien, who sat happily propped up on Eris’s lap. You gazed longingly at the male beside you, elbow propped up on the table and head held in your palm. He shed his jacket long ago, donning just his white buttoned shirt with the collar half undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

Lucien’s sweater had hand embroidered leaves on it, large orange maple leaves - the telltale sign of Autumn. You’d fretted immensely as he grabbed a fistfull of carrots from the stew and failed to actually get it in his mouth, dropping it perfectly onto that cream colored wool. The chunks of meat that had fallen from the table were happily lapped up by the small fox, who sat perched on its hind legs. 

When you’d moved to the sofa after dinner, Lucien was quick to fall asleep. Laid perfectly on the warm expanse of Eris’s chest, the babe’s arms and legs were sprawled over his older brother. You ran your fingers over Lucien’s back, lulling him into a deep slumber. His lips were parted ever so slightly as you listened to his steady breathing, the only other sound accompanying the small fire in the hearth across the room. 

Eris watched your fingers trace patterns over his brother’s back, in the same manner you did on him when he fell asleep in your arms himself. It surely did the trick on him, why wouldn’t it work on his brother? He couldn’t help that envious feeling, the anxiety he felt with sharing the one good thing he’d found for himself. Maybe it was that possessive part of him that made him want to keep you tucked away on the outskirts of the small town, away from his real life, his home, his family. That in some irrational corner of his mind, he’d lose you should he get too close, should he share too much of his life with you. He felt guilty enough bringing Lucien there, to your home, in escape from his father.

He was basically falling asleep himself, though, with you tucked up close to him, the warmth of your touch heavy at his side. His forehead rested against yours, your arm pressed into the couch yet still curled around his bicep. His hand fell to your knee, thumb brushing over your leg through your thin dress. He was content to lay there, for all of you to fall asleep on your soft sofa. But his mother would be expecting him to return Lucien soon, the routine of him taking his brother from the house becoming much too normal. 

“I’ll have to get this little one to bed,” Eris whispered, voice barely audible. 

You smiled, twirling one of Lucien’s curls between your fingers. You loved seeing Eris care for his brother, the soft side of him you barely bore witness to. With a slow turn, you cupped his cheek in your palm and pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He was quick to blush, scarred face tinged with pink. But he brushed it off, moving to stand before you, keeping Lucien held tightly to his chest. “I’ll be back later tonight,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

As Eris moved, the fox - once tucked into a ball, sleeping beside him - shot to attention, staring at him from the couch. With a roll of his eyes, he sighed, holding out his hand for the fox to hop into his palm. It crawled its way up his forearm, latching onto the light fabric. “Come on, Leaf, let's go home.”

[besotted-eros]

Eren x Reader (WoC) 18+

Summary: The ocean sends you a man stuck to a piece of driftwood, and he knows you in a way you don’t know yourself. Masterlist here

Chapter: Epilogue

In his final moment, something flashed before Eren's eyes.

It blocked out the sight of Mikasa, flying towards him. She approached with a ferocity he couldn't recognize, and a love that he did. Her tears trailed across his tongue, leaving the slight taste of salt that made Eren's shiver with memory.

Mountains fell in response.

Mikasa moved fast, so fast and quick and her body was brittle flashes that stung his eyes and filled his vision with worlds, worlds, world.

A red scarf that flickered atop of wall Maria. Waves reflecting off of blonde hair. The taste of meat, a kick in his stomach, an ill timed laugh, a glint from cracked glass, a rivalry.

These tumbled over each other until they stopped dead at the coast of an island, at copper feet covered in sand. Then, the memories yielded to her.

Her dark hair floating in water, her dark eyes peering at him from behind a guarded face that broke bit by bit, and broke him even faster. Her soft body, her hard tone, the way she healed a man who had done nothing but rip and tear through the viscera of the world.

In that last moment Eren saw nothing but her.

He allowed himself that, that momentary disappearance into her shelter as though he had ducked under an awning from the storm. He could shake himself free from a sopping coat, kick off muddied shoes. He searched for her warm hearth blindly, wanting to fall into her plush bed and realise that everything was nothing but a dream. Conjured between making love and waking to a world that offered no sharp silver blows, only a brown hand upon his clavicle.

Mikasa swept closer.

Eren knew he would die like this, but he didn't want to.

Who would?

He wanted a future. He wanted a life. He wanted to be a baby, a child so sinless and unaware of the monsters under the bed and in the nape of his neck. He wanted Mikasa's protection, Armin's solace.

He wanted to be their friend again.

And he wanted her. He wanted her kitchen table. Her pillow. Her bathtub and her neck. He wanted to be the man she pulled from the depths, the man she thought worthy of saving.

Her love, her love. He drowned his soul in it, it seared his veins, burning so bright it cast shadows on the figure approaching him and dulled the glint of the blade. But it did nothing to soften the edge. There would be no friends to protect his foolhardy heart this time. There would be no lover to breathe life into salt stricken lips.

Because Eren was no longer deserving of wants.

The feel of her blossomed like a supernova, and for his last breath Eren breathed only her.

And then there was a blooming gape.

And then nothing.

Truly nothing.

It was a hill like any other.

This one had a tall tree, gnarled branches reaching up to stroke the uninterested face of the sky. The landscape was dotted with dozens of these hills and this one sat perfectly average. Not too high, not too low. The perfect height for you to stare up at the grave that nestled between the ancient roots.

His killer stood between you two. The one that Historia spoke about reverently. She stared down at you, her angled face impassive during her assessment. But no recognition yet. Had Historia warned her of your arrival? It didn't matter. This was a pilgrimage that no one could hinder.

You both stepped forward at the same time, pausing in unison, eyes widening simultaneously. She had seen how you touched the wrap that crossed your chest. Another breath. A realization, softer than the morning dew that wet the bottom of your skirt.

She knew who you were. And oh, how much it hurt her. You could feel the spine of her soul snap with the way her mouth tightened. But you couldn't concern yourself with that now, unless you wanted yours to follow close behind.

She stepped off the worn path and became nothing but a red road marker as you made your way to his eternal side. You couldn't stop your feet if you tried.

You stared down at the small stone. It was so unassuming. Docile and stagnant. So unlike him. It didn't feel right. He was always steaming, always on the precipice of some magnificent blazing collapse like a dying star, ready to swipe clean the face of the world. His body deserved to be incinerated, for his flesh to writhe and scream and flicker until it disappeared.

Yes, fire suited him more.

"You should have burned." You whispered to that great nothing. You knelt on the grass, tentatively placing your palm upon the ground. You tried to feel where it was different. Where it raised, betraying the seed planted underneath. Was he just a skull yet? Was the flesh still clinging to him? The same flesh that you had pressed love to, that you had cradled against your lips and pulled at in the moonlight.

You traced the soil like you had traced his jaw. You followed the hollow of his cheek bone against one of the roots. The rise of his brow against the crest of the hill. The touch of his hair on the grass.

Your Eren.

You inhaled deeply, past the anger that had twisted your throat for months now. Maybe a year. You had kept the knots hidden, too busy trying to heal the gaping wounds he had left behind. But now they threatened to choke you.

"You chose."

Your hand tightened on the grass, ripping the delicate blades. A misdirected fury.

"You chose. I can't get over that. Even if you thought it was inevitable. You didn't rage. You didn't fight against it. You **chose**." You seethed, the sharp scent of the grass offering itself to your mouth as you brought your hand to cover it. You didn't want these words to keep falling, you didn't know how you'd gather them after.

Your heart felt like a mountain. You worried you would be crushed from the inside out.

"You stomped over this world. But my island is untouched isn't it? You could destroy the whole fucking world. You could kill thousands." You were laughing, hot tears tracking down your cheeks to settle on your throat. "But you left that alone. Now I realise why you wanted me to stay so bad. Now it just feels like I live in the foot prints you left behind."

The wind seemed to laugh with you, coaxing your hair from its bun. You sat back on your heels, exhaling slowly. You reached out to trace the engravings on the stone skin. The words were tender. You searched yourself for jealousy and only found mourning.

"I won't visit you again. " You swore. "You don't deserve that. You deserved to have drowned." You spat, your voice heavy with betrayal. The vitriol churned your stomach. You resented the world that put this taste in your mouth. The one Eren curated. "This is the last time. So, know how important this meeting is."

You reached behind you, carefully extracting the bundle on your back. It squirmed in indignation.

You laid your son beside his father's gravestone. His tiny fist waved a greeting, round lips pushed into a pout at the sensation of the cool grass.

"Little bird, this is your father."

He blinked, decidedly unimpressed. It wasn't lost on you how alike they looked. Your son's wide green eyes, the colour of pine trees you had left behind. You cried when he had first opened them. Clutching him to your sweaty chest, his wailing filling your ears like a melody. He was real. He was life. The only life it felt Eren had left behind.

"I thought I'd break the Jaeger curse with him." You said glumly to the stone, allowing your baby to grab your finger and flail it desperately. "But he won't be a Jaeger. I don't know if he'll ever know you beyond the monster that you left to us. Just by the history books and soldier's stories. But not as his own. He'll never know you as his own." You paused, wondering if you were being cruel. To what? To eventual dust? Could you be cruel to him, even?

" The ones who did know you are still healing."

The child gurgled in agreement and you smiled despite it all, pinching a fat cheek. The breeze played with his hair, showing you the curls that mimicked yours. You took a moment to feel the soft down before you laid down beside him. Eren'sgravestone was to your back and you curled your son against your stomach, breathing in the scent of soft soap and warm milk.

"I miss you." You whispered into the ground. "I miss who you were. The person they tell me you were. I miss what we could have had." A pause as the infant drifted to sleep in his parents embrace.

"I miss who you could have been. A father. A friend. You could have changed the world for the better. I saw it in you." You rolled onto your back, turning your head to stare at his grave stone. It was cold. Nothing about him should have been cold. You were overwhelmed by the urge to throw yourself upon it. To keen like a widow doused in black. You should be tearing your hair out, you should be beating your chest to expel the grief.

But your love of him was always quiet. The loss would be the same too.

"I'd have married you. We'd have had another baby. You'd have died in bed beside me. But it would have been a good life, Eren." You leaned forward to press your forehead against his cold Stone. "But you would have been mine." Your voice cracked, and you allowed it. You were tired of being strong. You weren't allowed to mourn him. No one but Hisu would understand. "Wouldn't that have been enough?"

Your answer was over your shoulder. You turned to look at it, at the unobstructed view of Paradis. None of those grand imposing walls that had greeted you when you were first set upon the island. The people had began to spread out, tentatively reaching across the trenches (that looked too much like feet) to settle down in green pastures.

It would never have been enough.

You sat there until the footsteps were too close to ignore.

"I'm sorry."

It felt like the right thing to say, even though you couldn't place what you were apologising for.

"Me too.'

Her voice was soft, and sounded unused. You wondered if she did much but tend to the grave. She had ignored all requests for court or for army. Hisu had worried if she listened to her own body's demands too.

You stood up, turning to look at Mikasa properly for the first time. Her dark eyes were steady, hands held poised beside her. But there was a tremble in her lip, and you saw her gaze slide to the baby clutched in your arms. You tightened your hold instinctively.

Here was a woman you were connected to by love, and by spilled blood. She had severed that connection herself. She had cradled his head how you cradled his son.

How cruel of Eren.

"I'm sorry." You repeated bleakly and she shook her head.

"Don't be. Not for him." So she knew it was a boy. Maybe she was in this world more than Hisu let on.

"Would you like to hold him?" You asked, and you saw the agony plain on her face for a moment. It almost made you stumble. It felt like a mirror. But she raised her arms, and you crossed to her almost gratefully.

She took him reverently, careful not to disturb his sleep. Her touch was novice, but you knew that she would rather fall herself than drop him. She pushed back the cloth from his forehead, dark eyes searching his face. She touched him reverently. As though he was a relic.

Your eyes traced her profile, meeting the weary black circles and hard brow. She turned to look at you and you knew she saw the same. Grief was a better equalizer than any.

"I can't believe he made something so beautiful." She whispered, and you nodded in return. You couldn't speak if you wanted to. "What is his name?"

"Krueger." Her eyes flicked to your face. You didn't know why you chose it either. But she repeated it softly to the child, like a prayer.

"We're tending to the only things he left. That aren't..." Her voice trailed off. You wanted to find the words for her, but couldn't. That aren't broken, destroyed? None of them felt right. Instead you looked out upon the world without walls, and wondered what it meant to rebuild.

[lorei-writes]

One Sunny Afternoon

Keith x Maeve (@keithsandwich 's OC) Fluff (?) ~500 words Content Warnings: none

@keithsandwich I was wondering when may be a good time to send it your way, but then I realised there's no such thing as bad time or a good time, so... Here it is? I hope it's a pleasant surprise.

Bumblebees buzzed in blooming clover, hundreds of hairy abdomens brushing against the white petals as a swarm of bees rushed ahead to another meadow. Shielding her eyes from the sun, Maeve turned her face towards the far end of the village, last few houses flickering at the very edge of the pasture. Something flickered between the faraway trees, further than her vision could reach…

Bumblebees buzzed in blooming clover, hundreds of hairy abdomens brushing against the white petals as a swarm of bees rushed ahead to another meadow. Shielding her eyes from the sun, Maeve turned her face towards the far end of the village, last few houses flickering at the very edge of the pasture. Something flickered between the faraway trees, further than her vision could reach…

Another something dropped on her head, a wide straw rim cutting away at the azure sky above.

“You’re goin’ to get burned,” Keith said. He said.

“Thank you. But I didn’t expect to see you now. I thought you said you weren’t interested in this inspection?”

Keith raised a quizzical brow. His mind took a pause, his lips pursing to then twist into a grin. “I ain’t, but I’m not lettin’ him blew it either.”

A large hand shot up, disappeared from within her field of vision, to then come down and take away the clouds. Keith tugged the hat further down – Maeve fought him, batting at his arm, and the pin in her hair only loosened, and loosened, until the knot at the back of her head fell apart. As if a dam broke, black waves cascaded down her shoulders, unrelenting current of hair drowning out her face, even if just for a moment. Maeve pushed the unruly strands back, eyes darting around to search for the lost accessory. Too slow, or perhaps Keith was simply too fast, the golden pin glinting, tucked behind his belt.

“He should have given ya a hat, not a pin. Wouldn’t want to see ya pretty skin get all red and hurtin’.”

Her eyes narrowed at his smirk. “I could have both.”

“No.”

Playful winds tousled Keith’s hair, combed their fingers through the ashen brown curls to then pull at his cape, few wayward gusts getting lost in the skirt of Maeve’s dress. Gold flickered at the very bottom of his eyes, eternally surprised as their hands touched, both of them reaching to hold the hat down… and she…

...so small, so delicate…

So fragile…

… as if she herself could be stolen from before his eyes, snatched away, taken directly from his arms, lifted somewhere, far beyond his hopes, outside of even his dreams…

“Keith?”

Her fingers entwined with his, roots taking firm hold of his feet. Whatever he felt, Keith pushed it back, hid it behind a smirk.

“Let’s go, Blackbird.” He pulled and Maeve followed. How could she not?

Sweltering sun seeped through the canopy of branches above, horses swaying in their trot, undulating air turning dry land into a sea. Maeve brought her mare to a halt, urgent chirping of juvenile starlings luring her towards a nearby tree hollow. The entirety of Jade shone crystallised in her eyes, her lips parting as beaks emerged, starved and pleading for a meal. Father-bird zapped through air… The silence, however, was momentary, gone before it fully settled, perhaps scattered by flutter of the wings.

“Watcha thinking about, hm?” Keith asked, laughter curling the ends of his words.

“You. I was thinking of you.”

He did not need to ask why.

You've seen a typo? Let me know!

Tag List: @lancelotscloak @starlitmanor-network @violettduchess @pathogenic @fang-and-feather

@tele86 @rinaririr @keithsandwich @cheese-ception @bis-enti

@claviscollections @queengiuliettafirstlady @sh0jun @lucyw260

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

[aisling-saoirse]

Plant Profile: American Witch Hazel - Hamamelis virginiana

Today's plant is better known for its use as a facial toner but this year I've witnessed a mass-bloom (the yellow dots in the image above) so I want to re-introduce you my ultimate late fall favorite!

Witch-Hazel refers to members of the Hamamelis family, containing about five species, 3 of which are found in the eastern US and the other two in Asia. Our species of focus is the American Witch Hazel, a wide growing, often dominate understory shrub/tree common throughout forests of the American East. The plant has a lovely arching growth habit (Image 2 above), alongside trails in older-growth tall mountain forests, one always can spot witch hazel by a tunnel effect along the trails framed by its branches.

For a quick technical analysis, Witch Hazel has oval alternate leaves that are asymmetrical and have rounded lobes along the sides (image 3 of pressed leaf). The bark is a grey or reddish brown with small lenticels (image 4 of 'trunk') and typically grows in clusters sprouting from deep roots. Typically the plant reaches about 20' in height and 20' in width, as I usually only see specimens this large in very old portions of woodland my assumption is that it takes many decades to achieve this stature.

The flowers themselves are divided into 4 portions with yellow ribbon-like petals present from October-December (image 5, 6, 9). The flowers are extremely fragrant in wet weather and mornings, the scent usually fades in drier conditions. Flowers lose their ribbons and recede into this hardened portion connected to the stem called a calyx (it looks like a rounded pod which can have about 4 seeds in it). The seeds actually shoot out of this pod as a dispersal method around the next fall.

I brought up flowering because like many species in the northeast, there is never a consistent year for these things, while I see witch-hazel flowers every year I don't encounter blooms prolifically unless it's exposed to a lot of sun light. From my experience, a mass-bloom (in which every tree has noticeable blooms like image 1) occurs every 5 years about, I've noticed this in my forest since childhood but others may have more frequent encounters than me.

American Witch Hazel has a large range and is found throughout the Eastern US. The Northern limit of its range is Nova Scotia to Wisconsin staying mostly east of the Mississippi River south until its South Western Limit in East Texas and Northern Florida to the East. Allegedly disjunct populations also exist in Lost Maples Texas and the Eastern Sierra Madres of Mexico but those are fairly isolated from the main range.

There are two other Hamamelis species located within the same range. H. vernalis: Ozark Witch-hazel, which is a common horticultural specimen due to its reddish yellow blooms coming out just before spring and is naturally restricted to the Ozarks. H. ovalis: big leaf witch-hazel is a new species discovered in 2004, found only in one watershed in Mississippi and Alabama; this species has much larger leaves and red mid-winter blooms. Most people are unlikely to encounter these in the wild at all.

Hamamelis virginiana can grow in both acidic and alkaline conditions, though I tend to find the densest populations on protected north facing slopes in mature forests near where water travels. I've also found it on pure rock on mountain top balds in New York before (image 7 above). This is because in the North, American Witch Hazel isn't as limited in habitat as in the Southern portion of it's range where it's generally restricted to only cove forests and bottom lands. generally there is an association with the Witch Hazel and decent moisture.

Speaking of moisture, Early English settlers (shown by Native Americans) used witch hazel branches as dowsing rod to find underground water sources. Sticking branches in the ground, and watching which portion bent upon encountering streams. It's likely the name 'Witch' in Witch Hazel derives either from Middle English 'Wiche' for 'lively' or Anglo-Saxon 'Wych' for 'bend' describing this use. [Info from US Forest Service].

Witch Hazel is also a protector of the forest following disturbance. In a Canadian Journal of Forest Research Study by Taylor Benton, analysis found that where large scale canopy loss was present H. virginiana was found to increase it's basal area growth (think spread) by over 300%. This indicates that in the presence increased light and nitrogen, the dominate understory species are able to protect seedlings by increasing canopy shade!

In my own forest I've noticed this where Ash has died back, the Witch Hazel flowers more prolifically and frequently as well as becoming denser (Image 8 Witch-hazel in flower above a stream)

Now what are the ecological relationships associated with American Witch Hazel? This species specifically provides one of the last insect oriented pollen sources prior to winter (other witch-hazel species often bloom in early spring), so species like the owlet moth which are active in winter, and late season bees get a food source from it. The leaves are occasionally predated by a gall wasp which forms many odd tents on the leaf in favorable conditions.

Propagating Witch-hazel for those crazy like me should be aware it is not an easy plant to start. The seeds require a period of moist cold stratification, then warm, then another cold (think 90 days of fridge, 90 days in warmth, 90 days in fridge) then it'll begin to germinate. If you have a full specimen you can attempt layering (which is covering a low branch in soil allowing it to root). You can take softwood cuttings in spring but they have to be kept frost free the next winter.

Finally Landscaping advice! Witch-Hazel is best utilized in partially shaded non-south facing or moist areas in partial sun. While it loves total shade in its natural environment it really preforms much better in a garden with some sunlight. American Witch-Hazel also is a better performer in the scent category rather than a showy floral display, most horticultural specimens are derived from hybrids between Chinese, Japanese, or Ozark Witch-hazel (image 10 of possible H. vernalis cultivar above) as their coloring is much more interesting compared to our local powerhouse. However it must be said that American Witch-hazel is resilient and has some flower color variation (oranges and pinks) which are absent in other species.

So this has been my plant profile on American Witch-Hazel, please go into the woods and smell the haunting yellow blooms while the mass-bloom is still occurring. Happy Hunting to my Eastern American followers :)!

[felassan]

Let's talk about these new images & the new/clearer looks at images from the Dragon Age Vinyl. (first, read this post hhhh). under a cut for length.

These resemble the map of the Fade in DA:O.

This one with the eluvian is labelled as the "Black City" side of the flip mat merch item. behind the eluvian is a flower-like pattern. and this is the first time I remember [? could be wrong] seeing the 'roots' of the 'tree statue' structures. from root, to trunk, to branches. [interestingly with root and branches looking like veins, lyrium veins, Titan veins..]. an eluvian shattering in the context of the "Black City" - again the splattering, the shattering..

and I looked up and saw the seven gates of the Black City shatter, and darkness cloaked both realms.

were/are the seven "gates" eluvians? ^^ they are portals and a gate is type of portal.

On the left here is Grey Warden imagery - griffon, sword, Joining Chalice with darkspawn blood drop.

I can't make out the two middle images - is anyone skilled with image manipulation able to unskew them?

On the right here, the four circles pattern looks similar to the pattern on Solas' Hermit Tarot card. and in the middle is the sense once again of an eclipse - in the very center, a sun-like shape/representation of the sun. and behind that, two overlapping spheres/two shadowed spheres.

Codex entry: Old Elven Writing

This elven writing found in the Arbor Wilds is so old as to be incomprehensible. There are whispers from the Well of Sorrows. It's impossible to understand the entire text, but certain parts suddenly reveal a shadow of their original meaning. "In this place we prepare to hunt the pillars of the earth. Their workers scurry, witless, soulless. This death will be a mercy. We will make the earth blossom with their passing." For one moment there is a vivid image of two overlapping spheres; unknown flowers bloom inside their centers. Then it fades.

And here is our first clear look at the Black City version of the art. we can now make out details in it that we couldn't the other day. the 'feel' of the image is that the sunrays emanating from the dragon/just behind the dragon cause/caused the now-Black City to destabilize and crumble. the wings and foliage also have a color gradient. at the bottom, gnarled and blackened, where the rot set in and is spreading. it spreads upwards to marr the little amount of gold that there is left, killing the foliage in the process.

but the main new exciting detail here is the heads held in the wings. there are 6 of them and they have elven ears. on their helms are the 'Evanuris headpiece/symbols'. seen from different angles in some, but it's these symbols nonetheless. you can match them up, like so:

After matching up the heads to these symbols, only the central one, the biggest one, is left out. and as you can see, what does match that is the Black City dragon's horns (recall they or the dragon itself changes from the Golden City version of the art to this one) and the staff of the figure facing the dragon in the Golden City version of the art.

close up of that figure shows they have pointed elven ears.

here's an Elgar'nan asset from DA:O. compare the horns with the staff top, the Black City dragon horns and the symbol in the biggest semicircle.

I still speculate that the figure and therefore the second 'Black City' dragon is Elgar'nan (with the first dragon being Mythal). opposite Mythal, he's the leader of the gods, the Zeus. that semicircle and symbol is the biggest. There isn't another big one because Mythal was murdered, and of course there isn't a ninth because that's Fen'Harel. I wrote in my last post on this,

left, silvery dragon - Mythal? right dragon (which is gold-toned despite the blackening) - Elgar'nan, after he’s approached her [maybe as the figure on the rock promontory] and then murdered her and taken her place as the god, ruler, dragon who presides over all? moon and sun, moon dragon and sun dragon, beauty and destruction.. the shape of the 'right-hand’ dragon’s horns match the evanuris headpiece on the ring which is in the biggest hemisphere, and of the 7 gods those headpieces apply to (9 Evanuris, minus Mythal and Fen'Harel), the 'biggest’ naturally is the patriarch leader opposite Mythal, Elgar'nan.

husbands killing, betraying or doing acts of violence against their wives is unfortunately not a rare thing. and in the lore this has happened before. Andraste (with her Mythal-like crown..) was betrayed by Maferath. Conobar betrayed Flemeth, the human woman whom the spark of Mythal - betrayed herself by other Evanuris - crawled to. the spark of Mythal "clawed and crawled through the ages" to Flemeth when Flemeth cried out for help. there is a reason Flemeth is the vessel the spark of Mythal joined with, their stories are similar. Dalish lore and the memories of ancient elven lore we see in DA:I sometimes show that Mythal sometimes had to temper Elgar'nan's fury or defuse situations involving him. of course, just because Elgar'nan was the main culprit of Mythal's death didn't mean that he did it alone or acted alone. other Evanuris were involved. Solas says "and in their lust for power they killed her". in their lust for power, the City was blackened.

the question is, what do the Evanuris heads in the dragon's blackened wings represent? ofc it's another version (really different art style etc) of this event. the heads/symbols, the City blackening.. it's the same event being depicted. but the way their body-less heads hang there in the blackened wings, dark and connected to the corrupted tree.. it reminds me of the theories connecting the Evanuris to the Blight somehow. "What the Evanuris in their greed could unleash would end us all. Let this place be forgotten. Let no one wake its anger. The People must rise before their false gods destroy them all." The Balrog Theory. Andruil travelling into the darkness of the Void and returning, twisted and mad. stuff like that. that's what the heads in the wings remind me of. so other Evanuris ("they") were involved in Mythal's death, and they were up to something shady "in their lust for power" that was giving 'not great for the world' vibes.

also, stylistically the choice to show their heads like this also reminds me of the faces in the borders of the beautiful map that came out with the Tevinter Nights book. those borders not only also contain two different dragons facing off from each side of the map but a bunch of celestial body, sun/moon and eclipse imagery...

anyways, we also get a more detailed clearer look at the Golden City cover art and in this we can see -

this is the door/gate to the Golden City in this Art. and idk, it just reminds me of this dragon Mythal mosaic or this Mythal dragon statue.

also -

soo is Elgar'nan is one of the "Evil Gods" that has Thedas in their sights? that mural could be read as implying that there were two returning or at least lurking ominously. All 7 non-Mythal-non-Fen'Harel gods coming back or being at risk of coming back in one game could be too much both in terms of irl meta-resources for development (there are lots of other things going on in Thedas to cover as well) and too much as a threat, if I was a writer I personally might handwave most of them to the side like "oh yeah, 5 of them got corrupted/stuck/lost forever over the Ages since while they were trapped and only Elgar'nan and [Other One] remain to pose a threat. they're still looming and ominous though". yknow?

but who knows, this was just one guy's take. to be further updated on all things gaming news reviews and discussions, stay tuned right here on yongyea, I'll see you guys next time, yong out

[mistresskayla-blog1]

Reclaiming Purity

Lyn's Writing Event Day 8

May 8th: Week 2: Andromeda  (plant – Lily of the Valley – white bell shaped flowers in spring)

Characters: AU - Dr Mikhel Astrov x OC Cassandra   (18+)

Fandom: Richard Armitage – Plays – Dr. Astrov (Uncle Vanya)

Dr Mikhel Astrov character was created by Anton Chekhov in a play called Uncle Vanya

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: age play, angst, kissing, natural decay, smut,  

A young woman, with wavy brown hair is laying in a field, lily of the valley surrounding her in the warmth of the sunny spring. She ties up her hair from her face with a scrap of string from her bound books. Her journal lay open in the grasses, pencil holding its place among the pages. The breeze was warm and it smelled of flowers and blooming grasses.

Cassandra rolled back to her book, and started sketching again, the blooms of the flowers she was drawing blowing in the breeze. She sipped some water from a travel jug, and set the stopper back into the hole, making a suction sound. Birds chirped and flew overhead, playing in the afternoon breezes busy with their chores. Cassandra smiled up at the sun kissing her cheeks. When she brought this back to the Doctor, she knew he would be pleased. But would he be so pleased that he entertained more with her?

----

              Gripped by anguish Dr Astrov sits at his desk and weeps openly. The trees in his forest are dying, dying from some organism he cannot control. Mushrooms are creeping up all over the forest, bright red and shelf like at the base, indicating a rash of what the dendrologist called, “heart rot”.

He couldn’t believe it. He had worked months tirelessly with his assistant Cassandra replanting the fields and protecting the larger deciduous trees from this plight. Dr Astrov felt helpless and utterly broken. He pulled the cork out of the bottle on his table, and poured it into a glass, nearly overfilling it, then just gulped down the fruit bearing liquid directly, putting his lips to the bottle. He took a gasp as the brandy burned down his throat. And coughed a bit, rambling as Cassandra came into his study.

She moved the bottle as he went to grab it again, “mm No, that’s mine” Astrov slurred. Cassandra shook her head and took it across the room, “No, that’s enough. We cannot fix this issue with drinking. You know that doctor”. He smirked at her, “well then can we fix it with something more fun than drinking”. Cassandra smiled coyly, “Not, -- look what you have been doing to my notes, its all” she acted disgusted, as she cleaned off the desk and removed her journal from the desk. Dr Astrov turned to her as she wiped her journal off with her skirt.

“I was reading that”, Astrov said, growing slightly annoyed, “And I think you may be onto something”. Cassandra looked amused, “Oh, do you? Is that the brandy talking?” Astrov burped and stood up, “No, no, no look, look,” he snatched the book from her hand, “Its all in here, the way you drew the bells on this plant, if we let them grow around the bottom of the tree like a girdle, than maybe we can prevent the rot from even touching the root of the tree”.

Cassandra looked at him, with endearing grace, “I know that, I wrote it”.

Astrov looked at her, smiling broadly, “Its brilliant!” he grabbed her face between his hands, squishing her cheeks and placing a triumphant kiss on her pursed lips.

He dropped his hands straight away, and stepped clear of her, “I,… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that” he walked back over the desk, trying to busy himself with his papers, running his hand through his fallen brown locks.

Cassandra still a bit stunned, leaned against a bench and looked down a moment, “Its, fine, really” she tried to hold back a grin. She had wanted him to kiss her for a long time now. Cassandra had worked with the doctor, training under him for about 18 months now and this was the first time he had seriously touched her.  

Astrov turned back towards Cassandra, leaning against the desk, “I, just wanted to say, (looking at his feet, than back up to meet her gaze) I have really appreciated your help this past year, and all the work you are doing, trying to sort me out (he scratched the back of his neck, looking back at his desk)”. Cassandra nodded, “Of course, yes. I am honored to do it, Doctor. Really”.

Astrov looked at her, moving towards her again, “But, its not appropriate for me to take advantage of your; virtue and grace, when, I”  he trailed off, and held himself back from touching her, while Cassandra stood in suspense desperate for him to touch her.

“Doctor” Cassandra, “Mikhel?” 

Astrov looked at her, “my name on your lips sounds, (smiles) beautiful, Can I kiss you?”

Cassandra nodded.

Astrov moved towards her again, taking her face in his hands more gently, and when there lips met, the lightest brush of skin and heat to skin. They both held their breaths, then sighed gratefully into each other’s mouths. Astrov pulled her close with his hands around her waist. Cassandra’s hands moved into Astrov’s hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. Astrov deepened the kiss in response, and then lead her back to the desk. He pivoted his body, carrying her against his chest, and boosting her into the desk. He swept things off of it with a crash of papers and tools, and leaned over the desk, kissing her neck and moving towards her skirts, her knees rising up.

---

Cassandra was panting and excited. After waiting so long, he was finally going to touch her, in the way she had been fantasizing about, been writing about (thankfully in a separate journal). Her head was swimming with thoughts and anticipation. Astrov continued his kisses, moving down her throat, and reaching for the buttons on her blouse, muffled he groaned into her breast, “You smell like those flowers”. Cassandra smiled, holding his head against her breast, “I’ve wanted you for so long,” she breathed.

Astrov came up from her cleavage, her blouse opening further, her belly exposed to the open air of his breath, “You… wanted me?” his voice was a question in between his heart thundering in his ears. Astrov looked over Cassandra, “The first day I saw you, I was hooked, and then you shared with me your mind, and your comfort, I… I never thought, I”. He kissed her passionately again, and Cassandra ran her fingers through his soft hair.

Cassandra spoke through her kisses, “I.. never.. thought.. you would..” Her hands digging into his hair deeper, as they kissed. Astrov kissed down her neck again, and into her soft and inviting cleavage. His beard tickled her soft sun kissed skin and she giggled. His lips trailed down her belly then, moving lower. Cassandra’s need was palpable, her core throbbed at his every touch.

“yes” she bid him, as he looked up at her again, heat in his eyes, as he moved to her skirts and moved them up against her thighs, his hands slowly moving in season with his lips. He started at her ankles and up the slope of her calf, and he nibbled behind her knee, and she let out a gasp, looking over the billow of her work skirt. He chuckled, “you liked that?”  She sighed a ‘yes’. And he continued onto her inner thigh, Cassandra’s breath gulped in a nervousness, and Astrov felt her tense. He paused, “I can stop, if your not,” he trailed off, resting his head against her thigh, seeing the curls damp against her knickers.

Cassandra whimpered, “I want you to,”

Astrov groaned under his breath, and licked the inside of her thigh, all the way up to her knickers. He scooped his hands under her bum and slid them down, discarding them casually on the floor, as he shifted onto his knees, and buried his face in her nubile curls. His breath toned husky, as he took in her scent and kissed her folds softly. Cassandra cried out at the delicateness of it. Astrov’s hands caressed her ass, and her thighs, moving in to touch her, but for now, he wanted to just taste her. Drink in her essence, his cock twitched in his trousers as her scent hit his sharp nose. He nudged his nose against her sensitive clit, and she moaned beautifully.

There she was spreadeagled on the desk, her skirt billowing over the Doctor, on his knees before her, in total submission to his cause. He moaned against her sex and licked playfully parting her sweet folds with his tongue. It played at her entrance, and pushed his way in a little, feeling her tightly wound around his tongue. His cock strained against fabric even more. He pulled her closer, deepening his kiss and his tongue into her core. Cassandra moaned a little louder, grinding against his face with her burning need. Her core was swimming in this sensation, wanting to build this over and over again. Cassandra was so excited she barely noticed the wave overcoming her. Astrov moved his tongue faster, and rubbed her clit with his thumb, strumming her along, knowing exactly how to make her complete her ascent into madness and relief, his breath against her mound, “Tell me..” he panted. Cassandra sat up on her elbows, pushing her skirt out of her way to look at him, “Please doctor, I want you inside me”. He smiled broadly and sucked on her clit, pushing his finger inside her, as he stood up, hunched over her and worked at getting his trousers off. She climaxed against his finger and he groaned in acceptance, pulling out slowly as she shuddered, her cunt wet and creamy now, ready for him.

Astrov teased at her entrance, stroking his cock in his hand, making it slick, at the tip. Cassandra mewed at him, her legs gripping at his hips, drawing him closer, “Easy, easy my dear,” he cooed back at her in his deeper voice. Astrov leaned down between her legs and kissed her mouth again, her flavor mixed with the brandy on his breath was intoxicating and she caressed his hair again, keeping him close. Astrov moved and pushed into her entrance, Cassandra gasped as the stretching of her flesh against his intrusion, had her seeing stars. Her pussy gripped his cock so tight, Astrov shuddered and gaffawed, sliding deeper, Cassandra’s tongue entered his mouth and danced with his. They were joined now, and their hearts thumped in unison. Astrov began to stroke into her slowly and shallowly, easing it in and out, she adjusted well and still she clung to him with limbs and cunt. His arousal was at its peak and he wanted to thrust faster and harder, but he steeled himself to continue to go slow, for her benefit.

Cassandra, panted against his ear, as he held steady, letting her pussy throb around his shaft,

“Please, please,” she begged, “Please more”.

Astrov did not hesitate, he sunk all the way in and she cried out her legs gripping him harder, her hands digging into his shoulders and hair. He shuddered again, “God, you feel so good,”

Cassandra smiled playfully, as she whispered against his beard, “harder”.

That pushed him over the edge and Astrov started to pump against her pressure, building them both to the summit, to the wave that would inevitably crash against both of them in bliss. The heat inside his loins was growing and growing. And inside her core, Cassandra was overwhelmed by all the sensations, her body simply reacting to his, and in righteous chorus of expletive joy.  Astrov kept at it, moving faster and faster, a little harder, and a little faster. Sweat was gathering at his brow, he tore his shirt open, and she clawed at his chest. He looked at her, deeply as he came close to his edge. Cassandra’s walls clamped down on him and he seized, pulling out quickly and spilling himself onto the floor. She clamped against the emptiness, for mere seconds, as his fingers slid into her and he pumped again and again as she shuddered over him.

Astrov dropped to his knees again and feasted on her, licking her clit and making her scream against her sleeve, biting down, as his fingers and tongue and lips just suspended her in utter pleasure. She shook on the desk, as he held her legs over his shoulders. His tongue quieted to languid licks against her folds, and peppered her thighs with kisses, before he replaced her skirts, and helped her up to a stand. He stood, above her, and kissed her sweetly on the mouth, his hands cradling her face again. Cassandra looked up at him with sleepy eyes. He smiled as he looked at her, “Such a treasure, I’m so glad to have the wonder of all of you, thank you, Cassandra”. Cassandra was still swimming in her waves, but she was stable in his arms, and that is what mattered. He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom, lying down next to her, still half dressed, there limbs lying softly with each other. He kissed her forehead, her eyelids, her cheek, and finally her mouth. Her eyelids drooped heavier, and he whispered against her forehead, “Rest now”, in his soft and sultry voice.

Raspy and confused Cassandra mumbled up at him, “What.. what happens now?”

Astrov looked at her, “you mean with the trees?” 

Cassandra burbled up a giggle,

 Astrov smirked, “oh you mean with us,”

Cassandra nodded,

“Let’s just learn to grow together” Astrov smiled and kissed her again, gently. And held her close to him all night.

END?

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