#( if I'm a bird ; poppy meadowes )

[pherelesytsia]

Who did this to you? - 8

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend's house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing 

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part6 Part 7 Part 9

The clouds wandered on, a lonely wanderer travelling across oceans and meadows, hills and rugged mountains painted in snow. White greyed, darkened and blackened, turned into pure doom, darker than black. The wind howled, screamed and screeched and the branches, crooked fingers, waltzed in all directions.

Silence blanketed the car driving down the path bordered by fields and trees, but it was not unpleasant, cruel, forcing nonsense to fall to shatter it. Shocked, Y/N noticed with widened eyes they had arrived at the open gates of the estate she called her home. At a rapid pace, the car drove on and on, past other parked cars and parked between them in different shades of the deep ocean. The motor wasn't roaring, turned off and the chanting of the birds sitting in one line on the lowest branch invaded the car smelling of alcohol, petrol and leather. The wind knocked on the automobile. Polly gulped, turned and rested her hand graced by a golden ring cautiously, almost shyly, on Y/N´s lap, but the shivering and shaking woman painted in blue and red, lightened by streaks of purple, did not flinch nor speak her mind. Carefully Polly´s fingers slid across Y/N´s calf and pulled the thick fabric higher to hide the exposed skin. Polly pronounced her name and pulled Y/N out of the dark and dreary thoughts, summoning goosebumps all over her flesh.

            "Thomas is fine. He knows what he's doing. Nothing will happen to him." Polly assured calmly, guessing the reason for the fear in the widened eyes and sweaty palms.

Faintly Y/N smiled.

            "I know, but I'm worried about him. About Poppy. There was blood, too much blood. I thought it was the new wallpaper she had told me about. They, she and her mother, redecorated the house. The pattern, it looked like flowers, large and smaller dots." she replied.

Exhaling, Y/N closed her eyes veiled by tears once fixed on the distance, watching the sun, the rays breaking through the travelling clouds heralding a day full of terror.

            "I'm sure your friend is fine, too. Thomas will take care of her." the woman continued with a gentle, encouraging smile on her features, kissed by the orange rays.

Polly cleared her throat. The smile fainted, and the wrinkles deepened. She didn't need to search for the right words, had already pictured during the ride what she would say to Y/N if their paths should cross, but all Polly wanted to say had dissolved, had lost its meaning.

            "We're home Y/N/N. Ada is waiting, but before we go inside, I want you to know that we are sorry. We have not been good to you, to put it nicely. Please forgive us and I speak on behalf of the whole family. John was the one who opened the door for your friend. After we realised what had happened, we were looking for you. I hope you will give us a second chance even if we don't deserve one. We will understand if you want to leave. We won't hate you for your decision." Polly continued and squeezed Y/N´s hand.

Y/N turned, ignoring the nearly unignorable pain trying to elicit a hiss from her, and turned to face Polly. She wanted to start a sentence; lips parted, but no tone escaped the sore throat. Y/N stared past Polly towards the door, flying back and forth in the fresh morning breeze. Ada ran towards the car as if chased by a ghost, had left the door wide open, ran on tiptoes and hissed and cursed like a witch as the stones dug deep into the soles of her reddening feet. The hem of the dress danced in the breeze. Gasping for air, Ada spread the large checked blanket, usually resting on the floor next to the sofa. The wind painted her cheeks vibrant red, lighter than her evening gown.

            "Come, Y/N/N, we will protect you." Polly assured in a calm, slightly quivering voice, but Y/N heard no falseness, no lie in it.

Y/N could not utter a reply. The air, hinting of winter, invaded the car. The women shivered and balled the hands into fists. Ada hushed a greeting, spread the blanket, glanced at the wounds gracing Y/N´s body, down on the battered feet and the shivering limbs. The pain in her chest deepened at the sight of the shadow of a woman, read in her eyes what she had been through. The lip was chapped. The traces of a fight were evident on her cheek and throat. Ada tossed the blanket over her shoulder, noticing Y/N was covered in one. Wordlessly Ada helped Y/N out of the car. Soft curses blurred with whimpers. Whispering soothing words, Ada pulled Y/N away, closer to the house, kicking the door of the automobile shut and gesturing for Polly to pursue. 

            "I've prepared a bath for you. I'll help you upstairs. If you don't want to bathe, I can put a bucket of water next to the sofa. You can at least warm your feet." Ada said.

With every step, every slight movement Y/N made, the once brilliant white material slipped and revealed more wounds, swellings, and darkening spots not fading in the golden tide of the sun's rays, but grew even darker. Blue turned to green, lit by purple flashes and red veins carrying blue blood. Patiently Ada waited, and stared back at Polly, walking hastily after the women.

            "Thank you. I think the bucket will do. Maybe I'll get in the tub later." Y/N replied meekly, as if speaking to her mother, fearing the answer would enrage her, but none of what she expected happened.

The chilly breeze blew through Y/N´s hair one last time. The door slammed shut, and the keys jingled, chanted a song that faded quickly. All doors were closed and locked. Curtains touched. The first aid box, not battered, holey neither with a worn handle nor dented corners, rested open on the table. Scissors, and spotless bandages lay next to bottles of high-proof alcohol, freshly washed not dried glasses, cigarettes and silver needles drowning in alcohol. Blankets covered the sofa, to which Ada led Y/N and a down pillow. The white porcelain bowl graced by blue vines and flowers was in the middle of the crowded table. Smoke rose from the cup, sweet lavender, and banished the unmistakable stench of blood and gore.

            "May I offer you some soup?" the question was unnecessary, asked out of politeness.

Y/N turned into a tree, rooted deep into the ground, not moving. Her arms swayed forward. Questioningly, the two Shelby's exchanged glances, searching for the reason for the fear in Y/N´s eyes, unable to find it, but then, after a moment that seemed not to pass, Ada took a step forward, let go of Y/N, took the polished pistol and hid it under the table, still handy but out of Y/N´s sight. Polly placed her hands down on Y/N's shoulders, trying not to cause her any more pain, let the blanket slide to the floor and carefully pressed the young woman down on the sofa. Ada wriggled back towards them, took the blanket still hanging over her shoulder and laid it down on Y/N's legs, covering them, reached for the pair of fluffy socks, wiped away the dirt, small stones, dust and dried mud, and put the socks on Y/N´s feet.

            "It's okay." Ada breathed before Y/N could protest.

Smiling, Ada looked up, wiped her hands on her long dress, picked up the bowl filled with soup and placed it carefully in Y/N's lap, handing her the silver spoon.

            "Here, Y/N/N, eat. I'll fill you a bucket with warm water in the meantime. Polly will keep you company. If you need anything, if you feel sick, all you have to do is tell us and we will help you. You are still in shock." Ada said in a calm voice.

Gulping, Ada crouched next to Y/N.

            "We should have taken you into our family. I am sorry, we are all very sorry. It's understandable that you don't want to see us, you have enough reasons to hate us. The only thing I can do is to promise that we will do better. If you need time, I have a friend. She owns a small cottage a few miles away from town. There is a pond and a small forest. It's lovely. I could arrange that you could spend a few days or weeks there." Ada continued.

Y/N merely nodded, unsure of what to say, not knowing how to respond, and kept on smiling. The two women watched Ada as she rose from the ground like a phoenix from the ashes and strode away. Polly leaned closer to Y/N, tidied the blanket and hinted that she should eat, that it would do her good. A soft thanks escaped Y/N, smiled at the women who wordlessly indicated that she should finally start eating and so Y/N did, dipping the silver cutlery into the depths of the bowl whose end she could not see, watching the thinly chopped vegetables slip from the spoon and as the warm liquid flowed down her throat, Y/N realised how hungry she was and ate greedily.

Time had lost its meaning. Y/N had emptied the contents of the bowl. The last piece of sliced carrots had disappeared, yet she did not place it on the table, continued to warm her fingers on the ceramic bowl.

Heels clicked against the dark wood, had put shoes a hue darker than the evening dress. Cautiously, Ada continued walking with her eyes fixed on the troubled waters, fearing the warm liquid was about to spill over the golden rim. A towel, white with a few washed-out stains, hung over her right shoulder, the towel she always used when a brother standing on the edge of the world was carried inside the house. The floorboards groaned, and Ada stopped and noticed Y/N had finished the soup she had cooked for her.

Out of the corner of her eye Polly noticed how Y/N´s eyes were growing heavy and she leaned forward, took the bowl and placed it on the table. The young woman wanted to protest as Polly told her to rest, to say that she had to stay awake, that she wanted to wait for the return of the brothers and her husband.

            "No, Y/N, lay down. You can stay with us or you can go to the bedroom. We will keep watch and if you need anything, you can call us.", "Polly, we should take care of Y/N's wounds first." Ada interjected.

            "That won't be necessary. That can wait. Alfie has taken care of her wounds it's just dirt and scratches. The wounds are not life threatening. Y/N rest, close your eyes. I promise I will wake you up if Thomas is home." she replied.

Carefully Polly pushed Y/N backwards. Her heavy, throbbing head sunk into the pillow. Closing her eyes, Y/N sighed in relief, exhaled as the blanket fell down on her body. Birds chirped, the howling ceased and lulled her to sleep.

            Polly leaned forward happily and noticed Y/N had fallen asleep.

            "Thomas told me that Alfie has taken care of Y/N. No deep wounds or else I would have taken her to the hospital. We can take care of it later." Polly reported.

Ada rose, set the bowl aside on the table, sighed deeply, nodded, listened to the woman and turned to the fireplace, the blazing flames feasting on the wood and fed by the howling air hinting of winter.

            "She was beaten up. I didn't see any bullet wounds. Did Thomas tell you what happened or who is to blame?", "He has a guess, but he couldn't tell me anything specific. It all happened too fast. The gang has Y/N's girlfriend in their grip. At least that's what he thinks. The house was trashed, destroyed, and I think I saw bloodstains on the floor." she breathed softly.

Her eyes kept sliding to the slumbering figure, kept glancing at her right side and noticing with relief that Y/N was still asleep, her eyelids neither twitching nor her lips twisting into a pained grimace.

            "Alfie's going to show up any minute. Thomas called him. He fears someone might pay us a visit." Polly whispered in Ada's direction.

Ada perked up, grinned, felt the weight of her weapon at her side, settled down in front of the blazing flames, gnawing on wood and fed by air on the armchair, threw the pillow to the floor on her side and crossed her arms in front of her body.

            “We don’t need someone to protect us.” Ada stopped.

A soft knock silenced Ada. The women exchanged glances. The rustling, and shuffling of shoes and feet, softly uttered words, the closing of the door and the jingling of keys followed by low grumbles couldn’t awake Y/N from her deep slumber, lying on the sofa, a princess in the shadow of the vigilant dragons.

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[arctrooper69]

hello i come rolling in with a fic request because i adore your style of writing, but please don’t feel pressured! i understand you probably get a lot of requests

could you do a wolffe x reader fic (probably fluff or hurt comfort) where it’s based on “annie’s song” by john denver? i have an image of them slow dancing in the rain in a meadow in my head but you don’t have to include that

thank you so much!! 💚💚

This is such a beautiful song 😍 I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get this to you! I hope I captured the essence of the song for you!

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Come Let Me Love You

...Let me lay down beside you. Let me always be with you. Come, let me love you. Come love me again...

Warnings: Bittersweet angst. Allusions to Order 66.

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Closing your eyes, you could almost pretend like it wasn't real - like there wasn't a war outside.

The sunlight danced upon your skin in a sweet embrace of a comforting warmth. If you kept your eyes closed, it felt like home. The smell of lilacs drifted through the trees; the long grass tickled the bottoms of your feet. They were here - all of them. Your boys in white. The same in face but their eyes told stories of their own. Some faded, flitting about as ghosts - only here to guide brothers still standing - but all were clad in armor of their chosen colors. They seemed content. No war here, only peace. The sleepy crashing of ocean waves, wind whispering through the sky and the feather-soft song of birds floated through the air in gentle harmonies of a melody you couldn't begin to describe. Familiar - yet an ethereal mystery.

"Dance with me, Mesh'la?"

The words sounded strange coming from the mouth of a battle-worn clone. Grey armor worn by a scarred face with one eye replaced by cybernetics. Intimidating; observant; yet kind and gentle in touch. Only you could see the man beneath the solider. That side of him made itself known for you and only you. What was once a weakness he hated, now became his strength to carry on.

Commander Wolffe was never one to give in so easily. Neither were you. He couldn't wrap his head around whatever cosmic force demanded that he hold you close. The angry storm of battle that raged within him seemed to quell - commanded into a silent peace - simply by having you near.

In a dream, the simple melody seemed to swell with pearls of youthful laughter as he took your hand and spun you around. If he could drown himself in that beautiful sound, what a way to go it would be.

Drifting through the waving grass, he held on tight as if upon letting you go, he'd float somewhere far away.

In a trance, together you drifted, like time itself did not exist. Nothing existed save for the grizzled Clone Commander and the object of his desires.

A gentle hand lifted your face to meet his eyes. Rough and calloused fingertips that soothed like sand.

"I have to go, Mesh'la. Duty calls."

Your lips moved as if to whisper a soft, mournful plea, yet no words were spoken.

Please don't go. Not yet.

As if called down by the pain of parted lovers, a misty rain began to fall. The universe itself was crying, mourning the violent innocence of artificial creation. Yet the rain was not all for sorrow. It felt cool and comforting - as though to sooth your fears - like the lips that ran gently across your face, telling you that everything would be okay.

Come, let me love you.

"One more dance?" The words came softly, slipping out as little more than a whisper - but you knew the words were heard.

"One more dance, my love. One more song."

The rain continued to fall, lightly tapping the leaves, wetting the soil where flowers bloomed - one for every fallen brother.

He was all around you. Strong arms guiding you through vibrant petals of red in a field of poppies that danced in the sweetness of a summer breeze. The aroma of a musky cedar and lonely petrichor intertwined and spiraled upwards emanating from somewhere around you. His scent - the one with which you had associated him from the first time he'd spoken to you down in the gardens of the Senate building that fateful morning.

Around and around he spun you, holding you together with arms that you supposed were strong enough to hold the world - dancing in the rain to that strange enchanting melody. Everything else apathetically faded into nothing as you let him fill your senses with that pure, yet melancholic bliss.

"Won't you stay?"

Let me lay down beside you. Let me always be with you.

Never let me go.

***

The low rumble of a brewing storm woke you with a strange gentleness. You lay unmoving beneath the sheets, unfocused eyes gazing blankly through the ceiling as though trying in vain to retreat back into the Commander's longing arms. The sensation of his lips lingered on your skin as you touched your cheek, fingers brushing the ghosts of his kisses. They came away wet. Only now did you realize the falling tears were your own.

Something had happened. The world was different now. The galaxy was grieving. You could sense it in the air and smell it's metallic sorrow in the rain as it fell outside the open window. A feeling of wrongness pervaded your senses. It was mournful and empty.

Commander Wolffe wouldn't be coming back this time.

Maybe someday. Maybe not ever.

Like being led once more through an unfamiliar dance, you rose and took the dress you'd lain out the night before. It hung lightly down to the knees, adorned with red poppies.

Perfect for dancing.

Quietly you hung it back on the wall. You would wait for your soldier.

Come let me love you.

Only then would you dance again.

Come love me again.

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[foundtherightwords]

The Firebird - Chapter 3

Pairing: Prince Paul (Catherine the Great) x OFC, fairytale AU

Summary: When Paul, a spoiled young prince, spots a strange bird in the forest near his palace, he impulsively chases after it, hoping to both escape from and prove himself to his disapproving mother. Thus he is plunged into an exhilarating adventure across a magical realm populated by enchanted princesses, dangerous monsters, and powerful wizards, an adventure that may change him more than he can ever imagine.

Chapter warning: some mentions of blood and injuries

Chapter word count: 4.1k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Chapter 3 - Wraith and Rumor

Paul was woken by the gnawing and the rumbling of his stomach. He sat up, stretching out his limbs, stiff from sleeping on the cold, hard ground, and readjusted the wig that had fallen off in the night. In the morning, the world looked more familiar—not familiar in the sense that he knew where he was and where he needed to go, but familiar in the sense that the trees were now trees instead of guardian spirits and toadstools were toadstools instead of teasing imps. Paul wondered if they only came alive at night, in a reverse of the curse that plagued Zhara. When he woke up, the girl had transformed back into the bird and was perching on top of his cloak, watching him with inquisitive eyes. It was strange, but when she was a girl, Paul had thought her manner birdlike, and now, when she was a bird, he couldn't help but notice how disconcertingly human her gaze was.

"Can you understand me?" he asked, feeling rather foolish.

She tilted her head. He took that as a "yes".

"So how far is it to this fortress? I'm absolutely starving and could do with some breakfast."

She hopped away. Paul rushed to pick up the cloak and his blood-stained cravat and follow her. His hope for breakfast was soon dashed when she only led him to a bush. It was true that the bush was full of ripe berries, gleaming black like jet beads amongst the leaves, but after having nothing to eat since the previous evening except for a gulp of birch sap, he was not exactly looking forward to berries for breakfast. Still, there was nothing else to eat, so as Zhara started pecking enthusiastically at a berry, Paul shrugged and popped one in his mouth as well. The berry exploded between his teeth, so much sweeter and juicier than the strawberries and cherries from the gardens of Tsarskoye Selo. He picked another, and another, and another, until his hands were stained purple and only the unripe berries were left. He looked up at Zhara, shame-faced. She rolled her eyes at him, but her chirps sounded more amused than irritated.

Paul was still licking the berry juice from his fingers when Zhara led the way out of the grove and into the meadow. She flew a little down the stream that murmured along the forest, then stopped and tilted her head at Paul, clearly waiting for him to catch up. Paul hurried to follow her, but his steps slowed in astonishment as he took in the landscape around him. The meadow spread out under the endless summer sky like a green velvet blanket, with a coverlet of wildflowers that nodded and swayed in the breeze. Most of these Paul recognized—cornflowers as blue as the sky above, ox-eye daisies with their friendly yellow centers and milk-white petals, delicate crimson poppies, lacy wild carrots, proud, spiky thistles—though like the berries, they looked bigger, their colors brighter, their scent more fragrant than the flowers of the world he'd left behind. Even the bees and butterflies that buzzed between these seemed more alive, and when he looked more closely, Paul could have sworn he saw tiny faces peeking out from between their wings.

They walked across that vast meadow, keeping the dark forest on their right and the stream on their left. It was slow going. The bird-girl flew as long as she could—her wound had stopped bleeding, but her wing was still weak—then resorted to hopping on the ground for a while, before trying to fly again. Eventually, Paul couldn't take it anymore and offered her his arm. She looked at him with those human, haughty eyes but refused to move.

"Come on," he said. "At this rate, I'll have a beard down to my belly before we can find Baba Yaga." She relented and hopped onto his arm, though she held herself rather stiffly as she made her way to perch on his shoulder.

Paul didn't know how long they walked. His wonder at the landscape soon waned. As the sun rose, even the bees and the butterflies—or the creatures that looked like bees and butterflies—fell into a kind of stupor, so it wasn't difficult to imagine he and the bird-girl were the only living things in the vast, empty meadow. It put him in mind of the Great Steppe of Kazakh—not that he knew what it was like. With a jolt, Paul realized that he knew so little about his empire, the empire he hoped to rule one day. All he only ever knew was Moscow and Saint Petersburg and the surrounding countryside.

Questions crowded into Paul's mind, and, because he had no one else to talk to, he started voicing them out loud, despite knowing that the girl could not answer him. How far away the fortress was, what sort of creatures they might meet, could she understand other birds and animals, how much she knew about his empire, how many Russians had ended up in this land and how many inhabitants of this land had ended up over there, and whether they ever found their way back. To all this chattering, the bird-girl only tossed her plumed head and moved a little further away, to the very tip of his shoulder, without making a sound.

His legs, not used to such prolonged exercise, started to tire, but when he tried to sit down for longer than a few minutes, the bird-girl would chirp crossly by his ears and peck at his arms, so he would reluctantly stand and walk again. However, by midday—judging by the sun and by the twisting of his stomach—he was too exhausted to go on. The berries seemed a long, long time ago. His scalp itched and sweated under the wig, his feet were blistering, his hip felt bruised where his sword had been tapping against it, and his legs were like two logs ill-fitted to his hips.

"This is unbearable," he groaned and slumped down on the grass bank of the stream, causing the bird-girl to tumble off his shoulder. She struggled to her feet and shot him a look of pure loathing. "You can bring Baba Yaga to me once you find her, but I'm not taking another step."

Ignoring her furious twittering and jabbing, he lay down, burying his face in a clump of clover. He was letting its sweet smell cool him down when suddenly Zhara gave a screech of warning and poked at his head through the wig. Paul yelped but was too tired to push her away. He only raised a hand and gave her a feeble swipe, as one would a fly. She pecked him again, at the back of his hand, her beak surprisingly sharp.

"That hurt," he protested, raising his head to glare at her. She was frantically gesticulating with her beak, and following her movement, he saw what she was trying to gesture at.

A figure was coming toward them across the field, an unmistakably female figure. She was dressed in a flowing white dress, and there was a wreath of cornflowers in her hair, which was the color of ripe wheat.

"Oh, blessed be the Saints," Paul breathed out. "I was beginning to think this entire place was devoid of people. You there! Can you help us?"

The figure turned slightly, but she was too far away and her hair was in her face, so Paul couldn't see it very clearly. As he started toward the figure, Zhara flew into his face, hitting him with her wings, squawking angrily, trying to drive him toward the forest. Paul stepped back in confusion, and then alarm, not just because of Zhara's fury, but also because he'd noticed something odd about the way the figure on the meadow was moving. She wasn't walking. She was gliding. And there was a scythe in her hand.

The figure drew near, and Paul saw she was no girl at all. But he couldn't tell how young or old she was, for her skin had rotted away like that of a corpse left under the sun. Her nose was gone. Her eyes were two shriveled, empty sockets. She opened her ruined mouth in a silent scream, and a blast of scorching hot wind came out of that gaping hole, hitting Paul in the face, dizzying him and sending a sharp pain across his skull. He fell on his back as the wraith bore down on him, her scythe raised high like Death.

Zhara flapped her wings at the wraith. Sparks flew, but the wraith's hot breath immediately blew them out. Zhara turned and pecked at her injured wing, drawing blood. She then flung the drops of blood at the grass at the wraith's feet. Fire erupted from the blood, and the dry roots from last year's growth caught at once, spreading quickly to the ragged hem of the wraith's dress. With a furious scream, the wraith swung her scythe, hitting Zhara with the handle, hurling her across the meadow. Paul lunged after the bird-girl. He landed painfully on his belly but managed to stretch out his arms and catch Zhara in his palms, just before she fell into the stream.

Turning her back on them, the wraith busied herself with moving the scythe across the burning grass, putting out the fire. While the wraith was distracted, Paul scooped Zhara's limp body into his arms and stumbled across the meadow, across the stream, and into the cover of the trees. The wraith rushed after them, only to lurch back as though slammed into an invisible wall. Still running, Paul risked a look behind him. The wraith swirled and shook her scythe, but it was in vain—she couldn't cross the stream. With a final shriek of impotent rage, she dissolved into a dust devil, leaving the meadow just as peaceful and pretty as it had been.

In the safety of the forest, Paul tried to catch his breath. He looked down at the red-and-gold shape in his hands and sighed in relief to see her getting to her feet, her feathers a little ruffled but otherwise looking none the worse for wear. "You couldn't have warned me that there were demons in the field attacking people in broad daylight?!" he said hoarsely, afraid that if he raised his voice, it may bring the wraith back.

Zhara wriggled her neck and shoulders apologetically. Before Paul could ask what they were going to do next, her eyes widened in fear as footsteps founded in the distance. Paul jumped up. But no, the wraith had no footsteps. It was only a muzhik, a peasant, sauntering through the trees with a fishing rod on his shoulder and swinging a string of fish in one hand, seemingly without a care in the world. The man hadn't seen Paul or the bird-girl yet, hidden as they were behind a big oak tree.

"That's not a monster in disguise, is it?" Paul asked. She shook her beak. "All right, then there must be a village nearby. They will have food there, maybe even a horse—" Before he could finish, she had hopped out of his hands and slipped into a bush at the base of the oak. "Fine!" he grunted. "Stay here if you want, but I won't starve for you!" He would show her that he could survive in this world without her help.

He came out from behind the tree and hallooed to the muzhik. The man came toward him at once, smiling amicably, and Paul felt a little easier to see that he looked no different than the peasants of his empire, in a coarse linen shirt, woolen breeches, and bast shoes. "Good day to you," the muzhik said. "Where did you come from and where are you going?"

Paul hesitated, wondering how much of the truth he could tell without sounding like a madman. But then again, perhaps the people of this land were used to strangers turning up out of nowhere. "I'm searching for Tsar Afron's fortress," he said, ignoring the man's first question. "But when I was walking across the field, we—I was attacked by—by—a—" He wasn't sure what to call the wraith.

The man understood at once. "Ah, I see, you've had a run-in with our Lady Midday!" he said, clapping Paul on the back. "You were lucky to escape with your life then. A fair few of my fellow villagers had lost their heads to her, before we knew to avoid the meadow at noon." Paul whitened, but the man only laughed. "Best stick to the forest, lad, at least until the sun is past its hottest."

"Do you know how far it is to Tsar Afron's fortress?"

The man scratched his beard. "A couple of days' walk from here, I reckon."

Two more days! Paul didn't know if he could bear walking for two more days with nothing but tree sap and berries to eat. "Is your village nearby?" he asked. "Does anyone have a horse or a carriage for hire?"

"Horses!" The muzhik laughed. "What would we be doing with horses? But you're welcome to stay with us for the night. The village is just yon that rank of oaks there. Come, come! We're but a small village, but you'll find us friendly enough. Anyone who's survived Lady Midday deserves some hospitality."     

With one last look at the bush where Zhara was hiding, Paul followed the man through the forest.

Though the man said the village was "just yon", it took them until mid-afternoon to reach it. It was indeed a small one, only a handful of wooden huts scattered around what looked like a chapel that stood in the middle of a clearing. There was no cross on the onion-shaped dome of the chapel, and Paul wondered what sort of God, or gods, these people worshipped.

His arrival seemed to be a great source of interest to the villagers. In such a small place, words soon got around that Timofey Arkadyevich had brought home a stranger, someone who had survived Lady Midday, and they came out in droves to stare and point at him and laugh openly, just as the toadstools had the night before. Paul kept his chin up and squared his shoulders, but he couldn't stop the heat from rising to his cheeks and prickling his insides. When some little imp, no doubt egged on by his friends, ran up and tried to snatch his sword from his belt, he snapped, "Keep your hands off me, you brat!"

The boy shrank back with quivering lips, and the villagers' faces turned stony as they called their children to them and took them home. The muzhik—Timofey—cleared his throat, embarrassed, and Paul's face burned again with a different kind of shame.

Timofey led Paul into his izba, a small, one-room hut. Paul hesitated to enter the dark interior. He had been taught that the peasants were little more than a faceless mass to be controlled. Those who joined the army were all sullen or desperate, and Paul only selected the ones that had been whipped into shape—quite literally—for his brigade.

But now, his hunger overpowered his hesitation, and the promise of food pushed his feet forward. Most of the hut was taken up by a cook stove. A table and two benches stood by one window, a spindle and loom at another, and a small bed at the corner made up all the furniture. Yet for all its small size and simple furnishing, the place was spotless. The walls, ceiling, and floor were scrubbed to a shine, the curtains were white as snow, and there were pots of cheerful red geranium at the windows.

Timofey handed the fish to his wife, whose cheeks were as red and cheerful as the geranium, and told her to make a fish pie and put the rest in a stew.

"You'll have to forgive the village folk," he said to Paul. "We're simple people and not used to strangers. You must have come from very far away."

"Yes, very far," Paul said cautiously. Timofey eyed his clothes and wig but said nothing more.

The stew, which had leeks and turnips in it, was very good, and the pie, with its buttery, crumbly pastry, was even better, though at this point, Paul was so hungry that it could be sheep brains and rat tails for all he cared. Only when the gnawing in his stomach stopped that he remembered Zhara. He was still angry at her for not warning him about the wraith, but he realized, with a slight prick of conscience, that their encounter with the wraith had probably left her weakened and in pain. Besides, it was getting dark soon, and this close to the village, someone may stumble upon her in the forest. He couldn't leave her to fend for herself. After all, she was his only hope of returning to his world.

During the meal, Timofey and his wife kept asking about his journey and what he hoped to do at the fortress. Paul kept it vague, not knowing how much he could reveal. Baba Yaga may be real in this world, but people may fear her and think it foolhardy to go searching for her.

He reluctantly turned down Timofey's offer to stay the night. While Timofey's wife was wrapping up a rye loaf, some hard cheese, and a string of bread rings in a napkin for him, Paul remembered something else and asked, even more reluctantly, if she had some women's clothes to spare.

"Women's clothes?" she repeated, eyebrows disappearing into her headscarf. "What would you be wanting with them?"

They must be thinking that he was some sort of debauched libertine. "They're for my—companion," he said.

"A lass?" Timofey asked. "Why didn't you bring her here then?"

"And what happened to her clothes?" the wife chimed in.

Their curious looks made Paul's temper flare once more. The audacity of these peasants, to question him so boldly! With difficulty, he reminded himself that they didn't know who he was. But surely, they would know Zhara. Even the leshy knew her...

"If you must know," he said, bristling, "my companion is Tsarevna Zhara Artyomovna of Arthania, and she has suffered a great..."

He trailed off, as an astonishing change had come over his host and hostess. Timofey's sunburned face went white under his beard, his wife's cheeks lost their ruddiness, and both made a warding gesture with their arms.

"It—it can't be!" the muzhik stammered. "They're all dead! The entire kingdom! She killed them! And her brother, the new tsar, has put a price on her head!"

"If you're with her, then please, don't hurt us!" Timofey's wife ran into a corner, took some clothes out of a trunk, and flung them along with the bundle of food at Paul's feet. "Please take these and go away! We never did you no harm! Leave us alone! "

They truly seemed out of their wits with fear. Bewildered, Paul picked up the food and the clothes and left. He could hear every door and shutter throughout the village slamming shut behind him as he went.

Could it be true? Could it be that the bird-girl was not a cursed princess, a damsel in distress in need of rescuing, but an evil sorceress? And if it was true, then what did she want with him?

Paul wavered at the edge of the forest, uncertain of what to do. He could continue alone. He could find the fortress and ask for help. But then he remembered the leshy and the wraith, and how Zhara had saved him from them. Even if it had all been a ploy to gain his trust, he had to admit that the likelihood of his survival rather increased with her around. With a sigh, he plunged on.

It was fully dark by the time he found the oak tree where he'd left Zhara. She was still there, hidden behind the foliage. Her face lit up upon seeing him, and brightened even more when she saw the clothes and food he brought back. When she emerged from behind the bush, dressed in the ill-fitting chemise and sarafan, she looked more human, less ethereal, even with a flame flickering on the tip of her finger like a candle. "How do I look?" she asked, smiling.

"Very well," answered Paul stiffly.

"I'm really sorry about earlier today," she said. "I truly didn't know there was a Noon Wraith on that meadow. I just thought we ought to keep to the stream to avoid getting lost."

Paul shrugged. "It's fine."

She didn't seem to notice anything amiss in his tone, absorbed as she was by the bread and cheese, which she was tearing into with gusto. "This is excellent," she said, between mouthfuls. "You have no idea how tired one gets of berries and seeds."

Paul sat against an elm tree and watched her. She had wrapped his cravat back around her wound, which was bleeding again, and the beginning of a bruise was blooming on her cheek, where the wraith's scythe handle must have hit her. He went over what Timofey and his wife had said, how frightened they had been, but he couldn't quite believe it. This fragile-looking girl, a murderous witch? No, it couldn't be true.

"I hope you found a way to pay the villagers for these," Zhara said. "Or at least thank them sufficiently."

Paul, who had never thanked anyone for anything in his life, realized that the idea hadn't even occurred to him. But he didn't say so. Instead, he said, "I didn't have a chance to do either. They chased me away."

She looked up. "Why?!"

He decided there was nothing to do it but to speak truth. "The villagers said that your entire kingdom was massacred," he said slowly. "By you."

The piece of bread froze halfway to Zhara's mouth. "Did you mention my name to them?" she said in a horrified tone.

"Yes."

She put the bread down on the napkin. "No, no, no..." she groaned, hands reaching up to grip at her braid. "What have you done?"

"What have I done? What have you done?!"

"I didn't do anything."

"Then why does your brother have a bounty for your capture?"

Her hands shook, and a spark flew out of her fingers. She squeezed her palms shut. Paul began to think that perhaps it wasn't wise to confront someone who was wanted for mass murder, especially when that person could shoot fire out of her hands.

"Because he wants me dead." Her amber eyes flashed. "It's all a lie told by my brother to legitimize his claim to the throne. He was the one who killed our father and destroyed any of the boyars that dared to oppose his rule. He was the one that cursed me."

The tale was a familiar one to Paul, and it only increased his suspicion. Could it be that the girl knew of his mother's rise to the throne and was using it to gather his sympathy? "I thought you were cursed by Koschei," he said.

"It's a long story." The girl looked at Paul. "You don't believe me."

"I don't know what to believe."

"Why would I lie to you?"

This was exactly what Paul had been asking himself, and even now, he had no satisfactory answer. "To gain my trust, to get me to help you."

"Help?" The girl let out a derisive laugh. "Why would I need your help? How have you helped me, exactly? You've been nothing but a burden. I could've been halfway to Tsar Afron's fortress by now if it weren't for you!"

Getting berated by two women in the span of two days was more than Paul could bear. He jumped to his feet as though stung by a bee, and stormed off.

"Yes, leave!" the girl said. "Get yourself killed and see if I care!"

He kept walking without a look back. Through the trees, he could see moonlight glimmering silver on the stream, and he remembered to keep it on his right as they had during the day, though he didn't dare leave the forest. The muzhik had said the wraith only appeared at noon, but better be safe than sorry. He would walk all night if he had to. He stumbled over roots and got his feet tangled in the undergrowth, but he righted himself and walked on. He would show her—he would show them all—that he could survive.

Then he heard the girl scream.

Chapter 4

Taglist: @ali-r3n

[dansnaturepictures]

10th September 2023: Martin Down

Flora and fauna photos taken today in this set: 1. Hawthorn. 2. Devil's-bit scabious, I was captivated by swathes of this one of my favourite flowers. I'd only seen them in the New Forest before the ones I saw at Old Winchester Hill two weeks ago and it was great to see some here as it's the main caterpillar food plant of Marsh Fritillary one of the star butterflies of this site. We don't often come at this time of year so had never seen these flowers here before, it was great to see good numbers of them therefore. 3. A bright looking mossy rose gall. 4. A marvelous Meadow Brown, we got some smashing views of this enduring butterfly and remarked during the walk about how the species goes on from the start of summer until the end outlasting many others, they're a welcome constant over the summer. 5. Chaffinch that I heard calling well too. 6. Buttercups. 7. Some quite late lady's bedstraw which I made the most of. 8. Common toadflax another of my favourites. 9. Bee on bramble flower with blackberries and hawthorns nearby. 10. Black-eyed Susan in the emerging sun this evening when home.

Perfect for Wildflower Hour on Twitter's seed head theme tonight I liked zooming in on many flower seed heads on the walk including wild carrot, yarrow, hogweed, knapweed, creeping thistle, ragwort, marjoram and old man's beard. It did feel a bit like summer winding down when out and it was overcast here with the brown fields around, a place we normally visit when brimming with insects at the height of spring into summer (there were still a fair few about today of course), and a lot of the flowers had gone over (again, there were many still about though) but it was good to appreciate that they can still be beautiful after they flower. I saw the flowers of some of these too and centaury, eyebright, wild basil, dark mullein, pineappleweed, field/small scabious, hemp agrimony, pretty honeysuckle, ivy including some covered in bees which was nice to see, speedwell, self-heal and some poppies in the famous adjoining poppy field were other highlights. Rose hips, sloes, elder and privet berries were other fruit highlights. Small Copper again, Common Blue, Speckled Wood, Small White, Small Heath and a splendid fresh looking Peacock were other good butterflies to see. Veneer moth, Southern Hawker, horse fly, hornet, possible wasp, Long hoverfly, possibly the rare Large Marsh Grasshopper and spiders were other highlights. It was brilliant to see two Redstarts, what an autumn I'm having for seeing them at different places. Kestrel in the air, Magpie, vocal Woodpigeons, Blackcap, Whitethroat, Stonechat, Swallow, Skylark, Linnets, loads of colourful Goldfinches which was great to see and Great Tit were other standout birds. It was good to see bee in the garden on the Black-eyed Susan, Goldfinches out the front and Collared Doves out the back and fly before bed last night at home, with an epic Buzzard view on the way back from Martin Down.

[chaitec]

( jenny boyd, cis female, she/her ) · you know, the gossip in new york city is insidious and gossip about a muggleborn like poppy meadowes seems to constantly be afloat. what i know for a fact, though, is that they’re a twenty four year old receptionist who graduated as a slytherin from hogwarts. apparently that inclines them to be a bit opinionated and tempestuous when she rolls out of bed in the morning. as a member of the resistance ( vetted member ), i feel bad that they’ve resorted to taking up the moniker mars. 

alright, so bear with me as I give some background on the meadowes fam, which is essentially my own headcanon: back during the first wizarding war, dorcas meadowes was one of three adopted children of the meadowes, both of whom were pureblood wizards who sought to build a family while also providing a home for children left to their own ; two of those children turned out to be wizards, while one did not, and were thus considered a squib due to the fact that the children were thought to be biologically theirs. thus, poppy’s family line comes from this one squib, who I think would be her great-grandfather 

the meadowes family is very big, and there’s about seven children in all, two of whom are biological and five are adopted, one of which is also poppy’s biological cousin after she lost her family when she was a baby

all in all, a very loud and busy household, and poppy was not one to be ignored, mainly because she could cause a good amount of damage if you didn’t keep track of her, but also because she always adored attention

as they recount it, the meadowes family knew almost immediately that poppy was a wizard -- things were known to levitate, and if she was angry or upset or sad, those things would be flying around the room like a tornado ; poppy’s magical education, then, started at the same time as she started her regular education, and, gained control over her magic relatively easily

she went to hogwarts, of course, and was relatively popular ; joined a lot of clubs and did The Most TM 

decided to move to NY after graduating both because she wanted to ‘find herself’ and because her best friend was moving there too ; she realized how risky this was, but she also felt the pressure of living up in comparison to dorcas and hoped that she could help the resistance in whatever way they might need 

she can be A Lot but she has a heart of gold tbh ; definitely needs to mature some more

[rebeccathenaturalist]

So I am mildly obsessed with the various and sundry fuzzy caterpillars that show up in droves this time of year. We have tons of Isabella (Pyrrharctia isabella) and Virginia tiger moths (Spilosoma virginica), spotted tussock moths (Lophocampa maculata), and even the occasional western tussock moth (Orgyia vetusta), but I found a new one to add to my iNaturalist records today--the large gray dagger moth caterpillar (Acronicta insita)!

I was at the Tarlatt Unit of Willapa National Wildlife Refuge for my third and final tour I'm guiding for this year's Wings Over Willapa birding and nature festival. Tarlatt is part of the South Bay Unit, and I really love it because it has several distinct habitat types--meadow, vernal pond, freshwater wetland, mixed conifer forests of various ages, an old apple orchard, and of course the tidal wetlands around Tarlatt Slough. The meadow was full of insects, to include several caterpillar species. We saw this one as we were backtracking to head over to view the restoration that's been done at the south end of Willapa Bay. Where other fuzzy caterpillars have been sort of bottle-brush in configuration, this little critter looks like it got into the hair gel XD. In fact, I think I know where I've seen that hair before...

(No offense to Johnny Rotten, of course; if I'm comparing you to one of the coolest critters I've seen lately, consider it a compliment.)

Anyway, the whole tour was a success; we got to see a belted kingfisher, kestrels, a spotted sandpiper, some of the last yarrow and California poppy blooms of the year, the apple trees with red-breasted sapsucker holes, coyote scat, and a dead shrew that will likely become coyote scat soon. A perfect day, complete with a new addition to my Fuzzy Caterpillars of Pacific County roster :)

[wolviecore]

OC Theme Meme (Cause I'm bored):

Name: Matthew 'Mutt' McNamara

[ COLORS ] crimson. red. brown. orange. yellow. green. dark green. olive. khaki. shamrock. blue. dark blue. purple. lilac. pink. black. white. teal. mint. silver. gold. grey.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. fog. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. magic.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. lean. piercing. tattoos. lithe. moles. dimples. athletic. lanky.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amber. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. grain.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. bow. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. telepathy. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. pyre. teeth. rifles. words. wealth. knowledge. charm.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. bitter. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. ice-cream cream. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. french fries. ambrosia.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. house plants. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. boxing. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. history. libraries. books. comic books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. flight. climbing. running. freerunning. exploring. yoga. meditation.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light . war. peace. money. power. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. bittersweet. happiness. luck. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. secrets. lies. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. kisses. hugs. revenge. lust. regrets. passion. spontaneity. potty mouth. recklessness. cautiousness. compassion. practicality. chivalry. tradition. patience.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. wildflowers. flowers. petals. thorns. weeds. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. poppies. galaxies. stardust. sky.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. crickets. birds of prey. singing birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. rats. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. livestock. foxes. jackals. martens.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. heavy armor. medium armor. light armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. sweater. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. flower crown. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. duster. trenchcoat. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. ties. uniform. fancy shoes. leather jacket.

[mioriia]

𝕾𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖟𝖚𝖌𝖆𝖜𝖆 𝕾𝖆𝖓𝖊𝖒𝖎 𝖃 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 ➸ 𝕻𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘

●▬▬▬▬▬๑⇩⇩๑▬▬▬▬▬●

Headcanon of the day!

Sanemi is a difficult obstacle, getting a reaction from him is harder than they thought it's would be but when they do, let's just say that it's worth it the try.

●▬▬▬▬▬๑⇧⇧๑▬▬▬▬▬●

↱ Request by Drakodisa from wattpad ↲

I love this man even though he scared me a lot when he first appeared but somehow or someway he ended up being one of my favorite characters. I know a lot of people hate him on his first impression when he hurt Nezuko but I didn't hate him at all when I read the manga maybe it's because he reminds me a lot of an old childhood friend (who is no longer with me now :,3) Anyway you're probably don't like it when I'm talking so onto the story!

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Summer comes fast, as music turned up to full volume. The sky blazes blue and the sun is a celebration of yellow, free and bright. The trees rise to the occasion, donning their best verdant hues, and everywhere are the flowers, the scattered rainbow that they are.

The flowers are a new masterpiece each day, changing the frameless scenery, gazing upward at the ever-present sky; they are the warmth of the land that give thanks to the warmth of the summer sun.

In the late summer wind are the red flags of the poppy petals, a living masterpiece of nature. Though they grow unnoticed by so many, they are more to my eye than a monet or any artwork that brings their likeness in beautiful strokes of softest bristles.

They are the rainbow that arises from earth and water, yet can be nothing without those golden rays. Each day of these playful months will come in moments, the gift of the present, lived in barefoot dances, wind-tousled hair, laughter and song... the layers of winter left in some forgotten closet.

The forest hums with life all around you as you twirl about, gazing up at the canopy, searching for the birds that sing sweetly. The sun breaks through the cracks, lighting up the dirt path ahead of you, decorated with outgrown roots, wildflowers and fallen leaves that crunch beneath your bare feet.

You trudge on, taking in the fragrance of minty grass and the damp earth. Each breathe is like water, fresh and cleansing, flowing freely into your lungs. Your eyes scanning the beauty of nature as you walked slowly, taking your time to get through the forest.

The forest is the orchestra of the mind, playing one enchanting symphony after another. Her leaves dance to an unheard beat, whispering their songs to the wind. In here, sheltered by the mighty trees, is every kind of life, from the humble beetle to enchanting birds of every colour. You hold your hands up to feel the cascading light, a brilliant white shaft illuminating the path that takes you onward and home.

And with that, you run, feet kissing the land. Perhaps a little while ago, you would have balked at idea of running so far and fast, now that you relish the prospect. These feet were made to travel at speed and as light as the paws of a lioness. Breathing steady, heart strong. It was like you were born to run.

As you ran, like the winter breeze colliding into inanimate objects and crashing waves hitting the shore line. Like eagles soaring across indigo skies and a herd of cheetahs racing through verdant meadows. Your (long/short), (hair's color) locks whipped back and forth behind you like a fiery tale as you flung yourself over sharp rocks and heavy tree trunks.

You didn’t know where you were nor did you know where you were heading. You had no idea what time it was and you had no clue what day. All you knew was you had to keep running forward. Not stopping for anything. After all, you were going to see him again no matter what happens even when you got yourself lost in a forest while thinking of seeing your lover again after a mission.

❝Wait for me, Sanemi! I'll be home soon... I hope so...❞

♧⌞⌝⌟⌜⌞⌝⌟⌜⌞⌝⌟⌜⌞♧

❝What the hell were you thinking?❞

A fresh milky white bandages were wrapped around your right knee. You laugh awkwardly, scratching your cheek nervously as you were sitting up on the bed after the insect pillar, Shinobu was done wrapping your injured leg.

You waves your hands above your shoulders, trying to explain the situation to your boyfriend who was currently scowled at you defiantly with his sharp eyes ❝I was only testing... uhh gravity! Yeah that's it❞

Uh oh, you made a mistake there.

His eyebrows were twitching in annoyance at your attempt of covering up your mistake  ❝Hey... Do I look like a dumbass to you?❞

As he murmured this in a low threatening tone, an irritating mark appeared on his forehead as you began to sweat nervously more than before, slowly moving away

❛What should I do now! He's pretty mad... Wait❜ You thought about it for a moment, trying to form the words to say in order to change the situation where you won't died. Well it's not like he would murder you on the spot but he will give you a rough ride to hell though.

❝Hey, Sanemi do you have a band-aid?❞

❝Huh?❞

Glancing around the room to see if there was anyone else in the room, once you were sure that there was no one nearby to witness. Your (eyes' color) orbs met his dark purple ones, a bashful expression plastered onto your face.

❝Because I just scraped my leg falling for you❞ cheeks dusted with light shades of red, placing your hand against your chest as you said this, staring into his eyes.

You weren't lying either, you did rush yourself just to see him after weeks of being separated from each other but it was the first time you caught him off, the first time you even saw his rough expression melted.

He immediately turned around as you were facing with his back on you, you stared at him in surprise, confused by his sudden silence till it's finally clicked in.

❝Aww, Sanemi. Are you embarrassed~?❞ You teased with a playful tone, wrapping your  arms around him, hugging him from behind.

❝S-Shut up!❞

❝Hehe, I love you❞

The sight of his ears turning red at your statement was enough to tell you that he felt the same way in his own way of showing it in silence.

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A/N:

Okay that pickup might be bad cuz I don't know, do I look like a flirting person to you xD? I would died from embarrassment before I could finish the whole thing lol

[sundaymorningwalk]

Hello readers, it's that time of the week again.

I wake at 6.30am and just lay there for a while wishing it was summer and was light outside.

Knowing have to get up I slowly and quietly climb out of bed just like the gaffer does in the week when I get a 10 minute free bed.

Before getting dressed I must go downstairs and get the dinner on.

So boiling a saucepan full of water I place our gammon joint in it to boil out some of the salt.

Whilst the pan is warming I chop an onion into large chunks and place them in the slow cooker with a couple of star anise.

I turn the hob down to a simmer and go for a wash and to get dressed.

Quite mild out today so it's on with the purple velvet shorts, polo neck top, calf length white socks and my favourite Apiddas sliders (can't believe they misspelt them in the Adidas factory.

I'll put on my brown corduroy jacket in a bit as I have to remove the gammon from the pan and place it in the slow cooker. I fill the cooker with full fat coke and leave it on low to cook for the next 6/7 hours or so.

Finally, at 7.14am I unlock the backdoor and I'm off on another #sundaymorningwalk

Spitting slightly but it's 10 degrees so it's refreshing on my face as I make my way to the lake.

After all the rain and wind recently there are lots of fallen branches everywhere and the Babbling Brook is filling up to almost breaking point.

Up ahead I see my first dogger of the morning, brushing her hairy hound and attempting to put the loose fur in the nearby bin, but the breeze takes hold of it and blows it away.

I wish her and her Alsatian a good morning as I stroll on past.

I spot movement in the hedge and see a tiny little Goldcrest a beautiful little thing but it's scared off by the approaching dogger and her growler.

Over the SOTV bridge onto the industrial estate I march and it brings me to the main entrance to the lake.

Crossing Battens Drive the new Lidl taking shape on the grounds of the old squash club and nightclub Racquets.

The lake is pretty quiet at the moment, maybe the spitting rain has put a few joggers off.

Approaching the yachting club I notice lots of trees have been felled, I'm sure there is a good reason for this, maybe diseased? I don't know.

Just a round the corner the birdman of the lake is surrounded by birds eagerly waiting for seed, some pecking at his pockets to try and steal the whole bag.

We nod a greeting and I'm off on my way, past the totem pole and off in the direction of the five tunnels.

The swollen River Arrow to my left beautiful meadow to my right.

Lots of birds out this morning, robins and tits plentiful.

I cross the one lane bridge near to a tranquil little spot next to the river, I've often thought about resting here in the summer with a flask of Bushmills and a good book.

Up the hill and over the bridge that crosses Papermill Drive, I stay on the path which skirts Church Hill.

I look left and something in the hedgerow across the hill which leads to the Bomford Hill memorial catches my eye.

It's bright red and can only be one thing, a poppy wreath, blown from the memorial by the strings winds that Eunice brought.

I cross the sodden field, feet getting wet and I think of the old soldiers the memorial stands for, my feet will be dry in half our, theirs remained wet for years.

Retrieving the wreath from the bush I place it back where it belongs saying a silent thank you as I place it on the ground.

Just past the memorial is a path, which I follow hoping it will bring me back to the estate.

Near a bench the path suddenly ends, down a steep bank I can see it resumes. Maybe the council ran out of money to join the two paths together?

Into Redstone close and familiar territory, I cross the road and make my way past the school and home.

Down the garden to feed the birds before entering the kitchen and the faint smell of cooking, didn't expect too much as it's only been in for an hour or so.

I take the gaffer a brew up, to find her sitting up in bed, the white glow off her phone lighting up her gorgeous face.

Quick chat then it's back downstairs for a coffee and a reminisce.

A quick welcome to our new members who have joined over the past week, keep your eyes peeled for AST's take a snap and send them in.

Whatever you're up to today have a great Sunday everyone and hope the storm didn't leave you with too much damage.

Until next time when we're out on location once again

Ta-ra for a bit

[vanus]

What are your oc’s aesthetics?

BOLD any which apply to your oc!

Remember to REPOST!

Feel free to add to the list!

I'm doing galaino bc I've been thinking abt him nd his tall grandson all day

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. magic.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises.canine.scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos.lithe.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns.slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks.mud balls. pyre. teeth.  rifles.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace.leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. poppies.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. crickets. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. rats. livestock. foxes.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. french fries. ambrosia.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games.computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. comic books. magazines. cds. records.vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating.climbing. running. exploring.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. sweater. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet.helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt.sash.coat. jacket. duster. trenchcoat. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. ties. uniform.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. kisses. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. revenge.

tagged by @gayterenus! Thank u drow!!!!

ill tag @theloblollypinetrees @tevintage @nerevarmeme nd else that wants to do this!

[damnhedidthat]

You know to distract myself from... myself, I'm going to throw you into a sort of initiation and say all the fucking questions. All of them. Accept it and loathe me to the end of your last breath.

You’re right, I loathe every inch of your being.

jasmine; what mythical creature do you wish actually existed?

The Greek gods, goddesses, and deities.

lavender; soundcloud or vinyls?

Vinyl. If I’m going for outdated might as well go for ancient.

primrose; what book does everyone right now need to read?

Oh god. I don’t know what books have been published. I’m going to play it safe and say Sight Of The Damned by Josh Neer.

lunar mist; do you like wearing other people’s shirts/jackets?

Never had the opportunity. Don’t know why I would.

bird of paradise; what was the best thing that happened to you this month?

Being knocked out for twenty four hours.

gardenia; what’s a promise you’ve recently made to yourself?

To finish Hal’s system by Sunday.

lion’s fairytale; would you rather be the sky, the ocean or the forests?

The ocean.

whirling butterflies; would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

Yes.

marmalade skies; do you plan your outfits?

No.

apricot drift; how do you feel right now?

Tired.

everlasting daisy; what’s the last dream you remember having?

Drowning.

queen’s cup; what are you craving right now?

Caffeine.

lavender dream; turn ons/offs?

Offs: Extended foreplay, slow pace, cheesy dirty talk, “knocking”.

water lilly; when was the last time you cried? why?

Don’t remember.

lily of the valley; did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize?

No.

winterberry; do you bite or lick your ice cream?

Bite.

honey perfume; favorite movie ever?

Shaken Hold (2403)

desert rose; do you like yourself?

Sure.

snapdragon; have you ever met or seen in person a celebrity?

Yes.

night owl; how many countries have you visited?

Most. About 12.

heliotrope; have you ever been in a castle?

No.

creams and sky; what’s the craziest/bravest thing you’ve done?

Died.

lantana; what’s on your mind right now?

A combination of sleep, homicide, and work.

pumpkin patch; what’s your zodiac sign?

Sagitta.

tulip; name 5 facts about yourself.

I don’t like the color yellow.I live in a second floor apartment.I own a sentient Roomba.I have three middle names.Portions of my nerves are soldered to cybernetic components.

daphne; do you believe in karma?

No.

queen of the meadow; ever been in love?

No.

wisteria; whom do you admire and why?

Not really anyone.

angel’s face; what was your favorite bedtime story as a child?

I don’t recall being told any bedtime stories.

remember me; did you make someone laugh today?

I don’t know if I did.

iris; do you believe in ghosts?

No.

lilac; if you could go back in time which time period would you visit?

None of them. They’re all awful. 

caramel kisses; would you want to live forever? why/why not?

No. Absolutely not. I’m already being forced through one lifespan, don’t throw any more my way.

primula; what makes you sad?

Can’t think of much.

rain lily; was today typical? why/why not?

Yes, with the exception of Mint.

queen anne’s lace; who do you trust the most?

Myself. Maybe Rox.

lady’s slipper; what did you have for breakfast today?

Didn’t. 

forget me not; do you have any regrets looking back in your life?

Sure.

lunaria; what’s your favorite fictional universe?

The પ્રાચીન વન, originally penned by હા અબ્રાતી but later re-conceptualised by یوهان پیشینی. I still prefer the original.

violet; favorite tv show?

Don’t watch TV much. Probably Burnt Roast.

sunflower; share a favorite quote.

“Stop fucking up the second chance when you weren’t given a first one.”

snowdrop; what does your ideal day look like?

Sleep.

tiger lily; do you have any hobbies?

IVR. Haven’t played in a while, though. Cooking. Reading. I don’t have much time.

peony; share a small random book passage that means something to you.

જંગલમાં કોઈ સમુદ્ર નથી. જંગલમાં કોઈ શહેરો નથી. જંગલમાં કોઈ આકાશ નથી. જંગલ છે અને અમારી માતા પૃથ્વી છે અને અમારી આત્માઓ યોદ્ધાઓ છે. અમે યોદ્ધાઓ છીએ જેઓ ભટકતા, યોદ્ધાઓ જે વિશાળ વિસ્તારમાંથી પસાર થાય છે, યોદ્ધાઓ શ્વાસ લે છે. અને જ્યારે આપણે શ્વાસ કરીએ છીએ, ત્યારે આપણે સમૃદ્ધિ શ્વાસમાં લઈએ છીએ.

tea rose; what’s something you always wanted to do but were too scared?

Leave.

honeysuckle; do you usually date people your age or older/younger?

I usually don’t date.

sweet pea; who means the world to you? why?

Hal. He is a version of myself that I hated, but separate from my body I have grown to love.

love in the mist; best books you’ve ever read?

Anything by હા અબ્રાતી.

foxglove; who is your favorite cartoon character?

Don’t really watch cartoons.

magnolia; coffee or tea?

Coffee.

crown imperial; would you rather be extremely rich or extremely loved?

Loved. I have plenty of wealth as it is.

snowflake; are you a dog or a cat person?

Neither. Dog if I have to choose.

bell flower; what is your biggest addiction?

Caffeine.

cosmos; do you ever think about the galaxy?

Yes.

moonflower; what’s your favorite color?

Gunmetal grey.

freesia; do you have a good relationship with your parents and siblings? why/why not?

Siblings, yes.

sundrop; are you a morning or a night person?

Night.

poppy; have you ever dealt with a mental illness?

Yes.

clover; how would your friends describe you?

Nonexistent situation.

dandelion; do you consider yourself and extrovert or an introvert?

Introvert.

lilly; what’s something you love watching/reading but you are too embarrassed to admit you do?

Burnt Roast.

anemone; describe yourself in 3 words.

What a jerk.

lotus; best memory as a child?

Visiting one of the exterra colonies.

angelonia; what is your eye and hair color?

Orange, and natural or current? Naturally black, currently blond.

dahlia; do you like crystals?

Sure.

buttercup; if you could change one thing in the world, what would it be?

Everything.

baby’s breath; what’s your hogwarts house?

Ravenclaw.

calendula; biggest pet peeve?

People who take longer to do things than they need to.

blanker flower; would you rather go to a cocktail party with your best friends or stay home and read a book/watch a movie with your pet?

Stay home.

blazing star; share a secret.

I don’t have any that I can share. Sometimes Hal curates my porn. That’s pretty much all I’ve got. I forgot to buy groceries last week.

carnation; would you rather live longer or happier?

Happier.

petunia; who’s story is your biggest inspiration in life? why?

Can’t think of any.

bluebell; do you wear glasses?

Yes.

nymphea; forest or river?

Forest.

orchid; do you like exercise?

Sometimes.

pansy; do you like poetry?

Sometimes.

morning glory; any special talent that you have?

Is intelligence a talent?

[dansnaturepictures]

Eight of my favourite photos taken in August 2023 and month summary

The photos are of; Turnstone at Hill Head, Wall Brown at Shipton Bellinger, Double-striped Pug moth at home, Common Darter and Wasp Spider at Lakeside Country Park, clustered bellflower at Old Winchester Hill, mushroom at Millyford Bridge in the New Forest and view with great heather at Ibsley Common in the New Forest.

August was another exciting wild month for me, and for birds movement was the operative word. The beginnings of the autumn migration allowed me to pick up sweet year ticks in Pied Flycatcher and Whinchat, key birds of my year with Wheatear and Spotted Flycatcher enjoyed too. At the start of the month this created some memorable lunch time walks at Lakeside with Cormorant and Common Terns unusual birds there dropping in. Nuthatch and Kestrel were standout different birds to see there this month too. Linnet, Whitethroat, Sandwich Tern, House Martin, Great Crested Grebe, Peregrine, Buzzard, Kestrel and Sparrowhawk including at home were other standouts across this month.

For butterflies it was another exquisite month, with Red Admiral including in the garden, Speckled Wood, Small and Green-veined White, Meadow Brown and Gatekeeper dominating as another amazing Big Butterfly Count drew to a close. Resplendent Small Copper and cheery Small Heath re-emerged into the year well with Brown Argus seen well at Lakeside and some final Purple Hairstreaks there what a year I've had for them, and I had some amazing valuable chances to see again blockbuster species that have been some of the icing on the cake of my butterfly year such as Wall Brown, Brown Hairstreak, Silver-spotted Skipper, Chalkhill Blue and Adonis Blue.

The month rather belonged to moths and dragon and damselflies, with a strong surge in moth sightings combining new ones that it was fascinating to learn and ones I am familiar with day and night. The White-point, Double-striped Pug, a fair few Small Dusty Wave, Light Brown Apple moth, Morning-glory Plume, Common Nettle-tap, Common Crimson-and-gold Moth and a Mint moth that came in the garden were key species. This month was a deep delve into Common Darter with many varied ones seen especially at Lakeside and golden chances to enjoy them, with Southern Hawker and more so dazzling Migrant Hawker ones I enjoyed seeing many times real defining species of the time of year. Banded Demoiselle and a fair few Blue-tailed Damselfly as they re-emerged into the year were great to see too. Onto mammals and my first Fox of the year was a treat, with Fallow and Roe Deers as well as New Forest Pony enjoyed too and a Hedgehog at home. It was a great month of area of wildlife I'm less familiar with, headlined well by a moment of my year seeing that Wasp Spider at Lakeside. A Common Sun beetle in the garden and Fox moth caterpillars at Ibsley Common were good to see too. Crickets/grasshoppers including Long-winged Conehead and Roesel's bush cricket, bees, waps and hoverflies, other beetles and many mossy rose galls which fascinate me were other summertime delights.

It was of course an excellent showing of flowers this month, with autumn gentian, wild marjoram, wild basil, round-headed rampion, purple loosestrife, common toadflax, clustered bellflower, gypsywort, red bartsia, water mint, bird's-foot trefoil, devil's-bit scabious, eyebright, rosebay willowherb, lady's thumb, tormentil, yellow-horned poppy, mallow, thistles and the common and bell heather that painted the landscape purple on the wonderful New Forest walks we had key species seen. As the year turns a bit fruit captivated me this month from sloes to blackberries and more in between, and following all the wet conditions fungi thrived in many places I went with some great mushrooms seen. I took in some sensational local vistas in high summer which was a pleasure, and it was great to be outside so much. Have a good September all.

[dansnaturepictures]

9th September 2024: Whinchat and goosefoot at Sandy Point on Hayling Island, views, leaves and Speckled Wood at Lakeside Country Park and hollyhock and Pied Flycatcher a mesmerising and sumptuous bird which I'm overjoyed to see and add to my year and a great run of seeing birds in the autumn migration lately at Northney Paddocks on Hayling Island on a brilliant first weekday of my week off today.

Spotted Flycatcher, Greenfinch, Chiffchaff, yarrow, speedwell, blackthorn sloes and hawthorn berries were other highlights at Northney Paddocks with a great mix of birds including Stonechat, Wheatear, Grey Wagtail, Common Gull and Sandwich Terns as well as Red Admiral, pretty yellow-horned poppy, sea kale, rock samphire and sow thistle seen at Sandy Point. At Lakeside this evening a great selection of butterflies including Small Heath, Common Blue and a fair few Small Whites, Great Crested Grebe, Moorhen, Magpie, great willowherb, meadow crane's-bill, pineappleweed, guelder rose berries and rowan berries were great to see.