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urdreamydoodles · 25 days ago

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Bat-Family x Fem!OC

How they handle your relationship with your dog

Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne (aged up), Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, Selina Kyle & Kate Kane

The return of the great, the beautiful, the unique... Mr. Pickles!

Jason Todd aka. Red Hood

- Jason was initially skeptical about your small, fluffy dog, Mr. Pickles. He wasn’t the kind of man who saw himself as the “cute dog” type, and the idea of having a pet that couldn’t fend for itself felt foreign to him. Yet, the moment he met Mr. Pickles, his gruff exterior cracked. The little fluff ball waddled up to him with wide, trusting eyes, and Jason, against all odds, melted. He let out a grumbled “You’re lucky you’re cute,” as the dog pawed at his boots, earning a chuckle from you.

- Over time, Jason became surprisingly attached to Mr. Pickles. He’d grumble about how ridiculous it was that the dog needed sweaters in winter and would roll his eyes at the sheer number of toys you’d bought. But you’d catch him sneaking pieces of his dinner to Mr. Pickles when he thought you weren’t looking, or lying on the couch with the tiny dog curled up on his chest while he read.

- Jason found humor in Mr. Pickles' lack of brightness. He’d mutter under his breath about how the dog walked into walls or barked at his own reflection, but you noticed the fond smile that tugged at his lips every time. “He’s not the smartest, but he’s got heart,” Jason would say, scratching behind Mr. Pickles' ears, his rough hands gentler than you’d ever seen.

- With you, Jason handled the balance between teasing and indulgence. He pretended to groan when you insisted on bringing Mr. Pickles on outings, but he’d always make sure to carry an extra bottle of water and snacks for the dog. “You spoil him,” he’d tease, but he was no better—making sure Mr. Pickles’ leash was securely fastened and standing protectively between him and any potential danger.

- On quiet nights, Jason would sometimes watch you and Mr. Pickles with an almost wistful expression. Seeing the two of you together softened the jagged edges of his life. “You two,” he’d murmur, pulling you close, “make me believe in good things.” And with Mr. Pickles snoring softly between you both, Jason found a rare kind of peace.

Dick Grayson aka. Nightwing

- Dick was utterly delighted when he first met Mr. Pickles. “This is the fluffiest dog I’ve ever seen!” he exclaimed, crouching down immediately to introduce himself. The dog responded with enthusiastic tail wagging and jumped into Dick’s lap without hesitation. “Looks like we’re already best friends,” he grinned, flashing that signature charm that made your heart flutter.

- He had a natural knack for handling Mr. Pickles, easily matching the dog’s playful energy. Whether it was throwing a toy across the room or initiating a game of tug-of-war, Dick seemed to genuinely enjoy spending time with the little fluff ball. He’d even create obstacle courses in your living room, guiding Mr. Pickles through them with patience and encouragement, clapping like a proud dad whenever the dog completed a “challenge.”

- Dick adored how much joy Mr. Pickles brought into your life. He’d often catch you giggling at your dog’s antics—whether it was the way he tumbled over his own paws or barked at a falling leaf—and join in your laughter. “He’s got your energy,” Dick would tease, pressing a kiss to your temple while the dog rolled around on the carpet, blissfully unaware.

- Despite his easygoing nature, Dick was fiercely protective of both you and Mr. Pickles. He’d instinctively pick the dog up when crossing a busy street or shield him from larger, more boisterous dogs at the park. “What?” he’d say when you teased him about it. “He’s family.” That simple statement warmed your heart more than you could express.

- On lazy mornings, you’d often wake to find Dick sprawled across the bed, Mr. Pickles snuggled into his side. He’d glance at you, sleepy but content, and say, “I think he likes me more than you.” You’d roll your eyes, but the sight of the two of them—your energetic, kind-hearted partner and your adorably clueless dog—made you feel like the luckiest person alive.

Tim Drake aka. Red Robin

- Tim’s reaction to Mr. Pickles was a mix of curiosity and mild awkwardness. “He’s…very fluffy,” he said when you first introduced them, his hand hovering hesitantly over the dog’s head before finally giving him a gentle pat. Mr. Pickles wagged his tail enthusiastically, oblivious to Tim’s initial uncertainty. “Does he do tricks?” Tim asked, trying to find some common ground with the little dog.

- It didn’t take long for Tim to warm up to Mr. Pickles, though. His analytical mind led him to research everything there was to know about small dogs. “Did you know their sense of smell is 40 times stronger than ours?” he’d say, sharing random facts as Mr. Pickles sprawled across his lap during one of your late-night movie marathons.

- Tim’s patience with Mr. Pickles was one of the things you loved most. Whether it was dealing with the dog’s clumsiness or his tendency to bark at inanimate objects, Tim never lost his calm. “He’s just trying to protect you,” Tim would say, crouching down to reassure Mr. Pickles after a particularly loud outburst at the vacuum cleaner.

- With you, Tim’s interactions around Mr. Pickles were quietly endearing. He’d bring home small toys or treats he thought the dog might like, and he always made sure Mr. Pickles had a comfortable spot when you were all relaxing together. “He’s part of the team,” Tim would say with a shy smile, and you’d feel your heart swell with affection.

- Late at night, when the world felt still and quiet, you’d find Tim at his desk, working on a case. Mr. Pickles would often be curled up on his feet, a tiny, fluffy sentinel keeping him company. “He’s a good dog,” Tim would say when you came to check on them, and in those moments, you realized just how seamlessly the two of them had fit into your life.

Damian Wayne aka. Robin (Aged up)

- Damian was, predictably, unimpressed when he first met Mr. Pickles. “What is this…creature?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as the fluffy dog sniffed curiously at his shoes. Despite his initial disdain, you noticed the slight softening in his expression when Mr. Pickles wagged his tail and licked Damian’s hand. “Tt. It’s not very intelligent, is it?”

- Despite his aloofness, Damian couldn’t help but form a bond with Mr. Pickles. You’d often catch him sneaking small pieces of food to the dog under the table or letting him sit in his lap during quieter moments. “It’s merely tolerable,” Damian insisted whenever you teased him, but the way he gently scratched behind Mr. Pickles’ ears told a different story.

- Damian approached caring for Mr. Pickles with the same precision and discipline he applied to everything in his life. He insisted on taking the dog for walks, ensuring that Mr. Pickles received proper exercise. “If he is to remain under our care, he must be healthy,” Damian explained, but you knew he secretly enjoyed their outings together.

- When it came to you, Damian’s interactions around Mr. Pickles were surprisingly tender. He respected how much the dog meant to you and went out of his way to accommodate him in your shared life. Whether it was ensuring Mr. Pickles had his favorite spot on the couch or making sure his water bowl was always full, Damian’s subtle acts of care melted your heart.

- Over time, Damian began to regard Mr. Pickles as more than just a pet. He’d occasionally refer to the dog as “our little knight” and even crafted a tiny, makeshift cape for him. Watching Damian interact with Mr. Pickles—his guarded nature giving way to moments of unguarded affection—only made you fall for him even more.

Barbara Gordon aka. Oracle / Batgirl

- Barbara’s face lit up the moment she saw Mr. Pickles. “Oh my gosh, he’s adorable!” she exclaimed, crouching down to let the dog sniff her hand before scratching behind his ears. Mr. Pickles responded with an enthusiastic bark and an attempt to climb into her lap. “Looks like I’ve got a new best friend,” she teased, winking at you.

- Barbara was a natural with Mr. Pickles, effortlessly balancing playfulness and care. She’d create little games to keep him entertained, laughing as the dog chased after a toy or tried (and failed) to catch his own tail. “He’s like a tiny tornado,” she said one evening, watching as Mr. Pickles zoomed around the living room.

- Her warmth extended to both you and Mr. Pickles in equal measure. Barbara loved how much joy the dog brought into your life and always made sure to include him in your plans. Whether it was finding dog-friendly cafes or suggesting walks in the park, she embraced Mr. Pickles as part of your relationship.

- Barbara’s tech-savvy nature even came into play. She designed a custom GPS tracker for Mr. Pickles' collar, “just in case,” she said with a smile. You couldn’t help but marvel at how thoughtful she was, always going the extra mile to ensure the dog’s safety and your peace of mind.

- On quiet evenings, Barbara loved curling up with you and Mr. Pickles on the couch, a warm blanket draped over the three of you. “This,” she’d say, her voice soft as she rested her head against your shoulder, “is my favorite kind of night.” And with Mr. Pickles snuggled between you, his little snores filling the room, you couldn’t have agreed more.

Stephanie Brown aka. Spoiler

- Stephanie instantly fell head over heels for Mr. Pickles. The moment you introduced them, she squealed, scooped up the tiny fluff ball, and spun around the room with him in her arms. “This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen! How did I not know about him sooner?” she gushed, her bright energy matching your dog’s boundless enthusiasm. From that moment on, Stephanie declared herself Mr. Pickles’ honorary co-parent.

- She treated Mr. Pickles like he was her little sidekick, even going so far as to create a tiny “Spoiler” mask for him out of purple felt. “He’s ready for action now,” she announced proudly, setting him down to watch him stumble adorably over the mask that partially blocked his vision. “Okay, maybe not crime-fighting material, but he’s got the spirit!”

- Stephanie loved to narrate Mr. Pickles’ every move, often giving him a dramatic inner monologue as he wandered aimlessly around the house or barked at nothing in particular. “Oh no, the vacuum is attacking again! Must defend my humans at all costs!” she’d say, mock-seriously, while you laughed at her antics. Her playful approach brought endless joy to both you and your not-so-bright dog.

- Her bond with Mr. Pickles only deepened because of how much he loved you. Stephanie often teased you about how Mr. Pickles followed you around like a little shadow, but she found it endearing. “I don’t blame him; you’re pretty lovable,” she’d say with a wink, curling up next to you and pulling Mr. Pickles into her lap.

- On your lazy days together, you’d often find Stephanie lying on the floor, nose-to-nose with Mr. Pickles, whispering secrets only they seemed to understand. “He’s telling me he wants more treats,” she’d say, feigning innocence when you caught her slipping him an extra snack. Watching her interact so lovingly with your dog only made you love her more.

Cassandra Cain aka. Orphan

- Cassandra’s first interaction with Mr. Pickles was cautious but curious. She approached the tiny fluff ball with quiet grace, kneeling down and extending her hand for him to sniff. Mr. Pickles wagged his tail enthusiastically, and when he licked her fingers, a small smile crept onto her face. “He likes me,” she said softly, as if surprised by the dog’s instant affection.

- Cass quickly grew attached to Mr. Pickles in her own understated way. While she wasn’t as outwardly playful as others, she showed her affection through gentle gestures—carrying him when he got tired on walks, petting him in slow, deliberate strokes, and sitting cross-legged on the floor so he could curl up in her lap.

- She had a knack for understanding Mr. Pickles’ needs, almost as if she could read his body language. Whether it was realizing he wanted a belly rub or sensing he was anxious during a thunderstorm, Cass was always there to comfort him. “He’s brave,” she once said, cradling the trembling dog in her arms during a storm. “Like you.”

- Cassandra adored watching you interact with Mr. Pickles. She often sat quietly nearby, her dark eyes soft with affection as you played or cuddled with your dog. “You’re good with him,” she’d say, her voice filled with quiet admiration. Seeing your kindness with Mr. Pickles deepened her love for you in ways she couldn’t always put into words.

- On peaceful nights, the three of you would sit together in serene companionship. Mr. Pickles would curl up between you and Cass as she leaned against your shoulder. “He’s family,” she’d whisper, her fingers brushing against yours, and in those moments, you felt an unspoken bond between the three of you that words could never capture.

Duke Thomas aka. Signal

- Duke was instantly charmed by Mr. Pickles’ fluffy, carefree demeanor. “Okay, I wasn’t prepared for this level of cuteness,” he admitted, crouching down to pet the dog. Mr. Pickles responded by jumping on Duke and licking his face, earning a laugh that made your heart skip a beat. From then on, Duke was completely on board with having a small, slightly clueless dog as part of his life.

- Duke was a natural when it came to keeping Mr. Pickles entertained. He’d play fetch with boundless energy, chase the dog around the yard, and even teach him a few basic tricks—though Mr. Pickles’ limited intelligence made it a bit of a challenge. “He’s trying his best,” Duke would say with a grin as Mr. Pickles spun in circles instead of sitting.

- He often used his downtime to bond with both you and Mr. Pickles. Whether it was watching movies with the dog sprawled across his lap or taking long walks with the three of you together, Duke treasured those simple moments of connection. “This is nice,” he’d say, his arm around you while Mr. Pickles sniffed happily at every blade of grass in sight.

- Duke loved how happy Mr. Pickles made you. He’d often point out how your face lit up when your dog did something particularly silly, like chasing his tail or barking at a shadow. “He’s a reflection of you, you know,” Duke teased, nudging you playfully. “Adorable and a little ridiculous.”

- On quiet evenings, you’d often find Duke lying on the floor with Mr. Pickles curled up against his chest. He’d glance up at you with a warm smile and say, “I think he’s claimed me as his favorite.” You’d laugh, but deep down, you knew Duke had a special way of making everyone—dogs and humans alike—feel loved and safe.

Selina Kyle aka. Catwoman

- Selina’s first reaction to Mr. Pickles was a mix of amusement and mild disbelief. “You have a dog? And this is it?” she asked with a smirk, crouching down to inspect the fluffy little creature. Mr. Pickles barked excitedly and pawed at her, and to your surprise, Selina scooped him up with practiced ease. “Well, aren’t you a little charmer?”

- Selina’s bond with Mr. Pickles was as playful and mischievous as she was. She’d dangle toys just out of his reach, encouraging him to leap and spin in an attempt to catch them. “He’s got spirit,” she said with a grin, watching as the dog tumbled over himself in his excitement.

- Despite her teasing, Selina was fiercely protective of Mr. Pickles. She’d glare at anyone who so much as looked at him the wrong way during walks and once threatened a stray cat that hissed at him. “No one messes with what’s mine,” she declared, scooping Mr. Pickles into her arms and stroking his fur to calm him down.

- Selina loved to spoil both you and Mr. Pickles. She’d return from errands with fancy dog treats and designer accessories, joking that “even the fluffiest member of the family deserves to look good.” Seeing Mr. Pickles prance around in a tiny leather collar she’d picked out always brought a smile to her face.

- At night, Selina loved to lounge with you on the couch, Mr. Pickles nestled comfortably between you. “He’s got good taste,” she’d say with a sly grin, watching the dog drift off to sleep in your lap. “But then again, so do I.” And as she leaned in to kiss you, you couldn’t help but agree.

Kate Kane aka. Batwoman

- Kate was initially indifferent about Mr. Pickles, more focused on you than the small ball of fluff at your feet. “He’s…cute,” she said diplomatically, her sharp eyes softening slightly as Mr. Pickles sniffed at her boots. When the dog barked happily and wagged his tail, Kate let out a reluctant laugh. “Okay, maybe a little more than cute.”

- Her affection for Mr. Pickles grew quickly, though she’d never admit it outright. You’d catch her sneaking him treats when she thought you weren’t looking or giving him gentle pats while pretending not to care. “He’s your dog,” she’d insist, though the sight of him curled up at her side told a different story.

- Kate’s protective nature extended to Mr. Pickles in surprising ways. She’d insist on accompanying you to the vet, making sure his leash was secure during walks, and standing between him and any potential threats. “He’s small; someone’s gotta look out for him,” she said gruffly, though her soft smile betrayed her.

- With you, Kate loved to tease about how spoiled Mr. Pickles was. “You know he owns this house now, right?” she joked, watching as the dog sprawled across your bed without a care in the world. But her playful remarks were always accompanied by a warmth that made you feel like your little family was complete.

- On nights when the world felt too heavy, Kate would sit with you and Mr. Pickles in comfortable silence, her arm wrapped around you and her hand resting lightly on the dog’s fur. “This,” she’d say softly, her voice low and steady, “is what makes it all worth it.” And in those moments, you knew she meant every word.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

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The House Guest 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The drive into town, or the few shops that cluster together at the midpoint of the backroads, is quiet. As you lazily steer around the long bends. As you come in sight of the beer store banner, you squint into the rear view. Bucky’s been so silent, you’re half certain he’s asleep.

He sits with his arms crossed as he stares out the window. His eyes could be closed. As you roll into the gravel lot, he clears his throat.

“Not much to this place,” he comments.

You give a start and shift into park, “nope.”

He nods as he unbuckles his seat belt and sits up, “quiet.”

“Very,” you agree.

He makes no other comment as he gets out. You really can’t tell how he meant it. Does he like the quiet? Hate it? Does he long for the New York rush?

You push yourself out of the car and head for the front door. He steps ahead to get the door and you thank him. It’s not too unusual. A lot of the men in their plaid fleeces insist on doing the same. You enter and greet Dustin behind the counter.

“Foster sending you ‘round again?” He asks.

“Mr. Foster’s drying out. At least his wife says so. And I told her I wouldn’t bring him anymore gin.” You explain.

“Ah, you got company,” Dustin comes to the end of the counter, “Dustin, and you?”

He holds out his hand. Bucky shakes it with his gloved one and introduces himself.

“Ha, boy, fingers’ cold already? Must not be from around here.”

Bucky sniffs and drops his hand. He has both covered. It’s probably best he not draw attention.

“Yeah, came up from the States,” he says. “Not a fan of the Canadian beer though.”

“Ah, you like piss water. Well, head to the back, you’ll find that yankie river water.”

You chuckle and shake your head. You go down the middle aisle and Bucky catches up to you with a grumble. You notice his glower as he peruses the cases.

“Don’t take it to hear. That’s just Dusty. If you’re a hockey fan, don’t mention it unless you wanna hear about the Leafs for an hour.”

“Right,” he nods and grabs a green case. “More of a baseball fan.”

“Don’t mention that either. He’s a Jays fan.” You head down the far aisle and peruse the smaller bottles. That should be enough.

“Thought you don’t drink,” he comments as you pick out the brown bottle.

“Rumcake. I’m gonna check in on the neighbours later this week. Make sure they’re okay. Plus, you add a bit to some fried bananas. It’s great.” You explain.

He drones again and clicks his tongue. He probably doesn’t care much about the neighbours or your mother’s rumcake recipe. You go to the counter and put the bottle down. As you reach into your pocket, Bucky leans the case on the edge.

“Charge hers with mine,” he takes out his wallet and slips out some bills.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Least I can do,” he insists and hands over the money, “Sir, you keep the change.”

“Boy, this is a beer store, we don’t take tips,” Dustin scoffs.

“Then put it in that charity box,” Bucky shrugs and hauls up the case. “Got somewhere else to go?”

You take the bottle and say goodbye to Dustin before you follow.

“Groceries,” you say as you follow him out.

You fish around for your keys. What pocket did you put them in? You stop beside the driver’s side and search for them. Of course, you locked the car.

Frustrated, you set the bottle on the car roof. You look down as you continue to pat your jacket. You finally find them and then you hear it. The subtle friction of the bottle slips down the curve of the roof.

You panic and try to catch it. As you do, you press against the wall that appears behind you. Bucky reaches over your shoulder as he saves the bottle. You get your keys free and teeter between him and the car. He backs up.

“Got it,” he says.

“Uh, thanks,” you hid your discomfort. You weren’t expecting him to be so close.

He easily carries the case under one arm and takes the rum with him around the passengers side. You unlock the doors and he opens the back to put the alcohol in front of the seat. You swing into the driver’s and get yourself situated.

You’re overthinking. He probably didn’t even realise how awkward that was. You put your keys in the ignition as he drops in through the opposite door.

“Real friendly around here,” he remarks as check the rear view.

You reach over to grip the passenger seat as you crane to see behind you. By accident, you grab his shoulder. He grunts and you release him quickly, grabbing the seat instead.

“Sorry,” you say.

“It’s fine,” he shrugs and you slowly reverse, hooking around to put your car straight.

You rescind your hand and turn forward, steering out of the lot and down to the next street. There, the grocery store is a bit more lively with the early risers. You draw up and park again. You get out and he follows suit.

He grabs a cart before you can. You’re not sure if he’s being overly helpful or what. You walk beside him toward the front doors. As you do, Cathy comes out with a paper bag in her arms. Before you can hide, she shrilly calls your name. Great.

“Oh, haven’t seen you lately,” she smiles beneath her fuschia lipstick. “Oh my,” her heavily lined eyes flick to Bucky, “and who is this? Don’t see a lot of new faces in Caribou.”

You glance over at your escort as he stops the cart.

“This is Bucky. He’s visiting Canada.” You say.

“Visiting? Oh, how wonderful,” she walks up the side of the cart, squinting at him. She never wears her glasses. “Ah, look at him. Strapping.” She grabs his square jaw.

“Um, Bucky, this is Cathy.”

“Look at those eyes,” she squeezes him so her acrylics sink into his cheeks. He looks stunned by her latch on him. She is one of a kind, especially around there.

“Uh, nice to meet you,” he speaks stiffly as she stands on her toes to inspect him.

“About time you found yourself a handsome young man,” she lets go and he brings his hand to his cheek.

“Cath, it’s not like that,” you chuckle. “It’s nice seeing you but we gotta grab some stuff.”

“Oh, don’t let me stop you. Oh, the pharmacy got some of those new ones. You know... the ones with the ribbing,” she winks.

You take a moment to catch her meaning. Your lips part but you don’t have much of a response. Bucky shifts beside you.

“Gotta be safe,” she smirks, “anywho, if I was you, I’d be in a hurry too.”

You set your chin and grab the side of the cart. You pull it along and Bucky goes with it. The silence is stifling.

“She was nice,” Bucky says as you enter the store.

“She’s... Cathy. Don’t mind her,” you say as you stop at the shelf of pears.

“Been a while since anyone called me young,” he snorts as he lingers with the cart.

“Well, around here, you might just meet a few of your peers. Or close to,” you mutter, paying overly much attention to the pear. You’re too embarrassed to look anywhere else. As usual, Cathy has to make her little comments. “You mind grabbing some maple syrup? I uh... I’m almost out?”

He doesn’t respond right away. He wheels the cart up in front of you and backs up, “think I can manage that.”

As he turns, you almost feel bad. You don’t want to treat him like an errand boy. You just need some space. You’re still getting used to someone else being around. All the time.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #drabble #the house guest #mcu #marvel #captain america #winter soldier #avengers

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babyjakes · 1 year ago

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〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | monster fucking

pairing | steve rogers x fairy!reader

warnings | me knowing nothing about fairies. reader is in "fairy heat"? bruce captured reader (potentially inhumane conditions for fairy-keeping?) soft sweet steve. size kink LOL. th-thumb riding? fingering. p-pinky fucking? stretching. multiple orgasms. squirting. praise and encouragement that makes me feral. pity kink? is that a thing? if it is, i think i have it.

word count | 1,225

an | i've never written monster fucking (or really anything super fantasy-oriented) so please be kind!! wasn't expecting to get sooo into this, but like there's just something about reader being literally so tiny that steve's pinky stuffs her to the brim that's making me all 🥲🫠😩

what if bruce was off working in some top-secret remote location and brought you back with him: a sweet little fairy he'd captured while working out in the field, just as you were entering your fairy heat 🫠

maybe you're just about 7 inches tall, with the body/proportions of a grown young woman. he's been conducting research on your species for quite some time, so he's able to determine basics like your age, your likely place of origin, etc. he's thrilled to have caught you at the start of your heat

what's your fairy heat? i made that part up simple, it's the span of several days that occur around the same time every month when your body's at its prime and looking to breed. you become insatiably horny, almost to the point of it being debilitating, and all you can focus on during your excruciating waking moments is fucking yourself on anything of appropriate size in sight

you're kept in some sort of incubator in his lab, a glass box that's a few feet by a few feet wide and deep. the bottom of the enclosure is made of a soft cushiony material, making any spot a good spot to lay down and rest. miniature food and water bowls are set out for you, and a bright lamp hanging from the ceiling of the box shines 12 hours a day. it's a pretty miserable existence, your makeshift habitat nothing close to the wide open flower fields and prairies you're used to, but it allows the scientist to observe you closely without any distractions or interfering variables. and since you're in heat, you aren't too worried about where you are or who's taken you. all you can do is writhe around on the soft floor of the incubator in desperate, horny agony

maybe one day bruce is out of the lab, but he told steve he could come check out his new findings and maybe keep you company if you'd let him. when he enters the room and sees you lying there, squirming and struggling weakly, of course the supersoldier's heart is instantly hurting for you 🥺

he approaches the incubator slowly, not wanting to startle you. but pretty quickly he realizes that you're paying him no mind; you're too preoccupied with your discomfort. he takes his time observing you, standing right in front of the glass box as his huge frame towers over you. bruce told him a little about your condition and the science behind it. it made him blush, but he accepted it like he would learning about any other species and their unique reproductive habits

"poor thing," he hums to himself as he watches your tiny body wriggle in distress. he's stunned by how pretty you are. you have the most delicate little face, and your translucent wings with their iridescent shimmer look like something straight out of a fairytale movie. you're completely naked- bruce removed your scraps of moss carpeting and leaf clothing when he found you. but it's not strange or offputting in the slightest to steve. he just thinks you're beautiful, such a stunning little creature that seems too precious for this world 💕

he notices the plugged openings in the glass wall that allow bruce to reach in and work inside the enclosure. carefully removing the rubber inserts, he reaches a large hand in, wanting to offer you some comfort if you'll take it. you're so tiny that you could nearly crawl right into the palm of his hand and curl up if you wanted to

but snuggles are the last thing you're looking for in this moment. when you see his huge hand lying there, palm up just a short distance away from you, you weakly crawl over, wings drooping in exhaustion. you couldn't fly at the moment if you tried

steve is a little surprised as you hoist yourself up onto his thumb, your tiny legs dangling on either side of it. it only takes him a moment to realize what you're doing- his cheeks turn bright red as you begin rolling your hips desperately, a faint feeling of wetness forming on the pad of his finger as you leak your glistening juices all over him

"oh doll-" his voice is dripping with pity and concern. he doesn't try to stop you, just watches as you so needily try to relieve yourself. as strange as the situation is, he can't help but find your primal actions endearing, in a way

he continues watching sympathetically as you grind your tiny little pussy down against his large digit. his heart swells at the way you place your hands down in front of you, trying to keep yourself upright as you rock at a steady pace. just a few moments later, he sees your little body spasming and realizes you've reached orgasm by merely riding along on his finger. "oh my," he hums thoughtfully, watching as your precious little toes curl in delight

your face is much happier after your climax. steve watches curiously to see what you'll do next, staying silent as you climb off of his thumb and move to the other end of his splayed-out fingers. as you lie yourself down on your back and spread your legs out on either side of his pinky, he's again blushing deeply. "o-oh, hey little one-"

he watches as you begin pushing down to press the tip of his smallest finger up against your leaking hole. seeing how much you struggle to maneuver against him, steve takes even more pity on you. "here, doll. let me help," he decides, bringing his other arm through the unused hole in the glass. he moves it over to lift your back up gently, supporting you in a sitting position as he carefully begins easing his smallest digit up into you, smiling affectionately as you let out a soft sigh of relief

"there you go. that's it," he's murmuring encouragingly as he carefully fucks you with his pinky. your little pussy is so tight around him, he's surprised he's able to fit. but you're taking him so well, and there's something so sweet about the way you look as you sit here in his hands, letting him stretch you out over the smallest finger he has 💕

"good, just like that" "such a pretty little thing you are" "that feel good, doll?" "just keep taking it, sweetheart" "so good for me, keep going" he's not sure if you can understand his words, but there's something he finds satisfying about talking to you this way

he can somehow feel your second orgasm approaching, your walls growing a bit tighter around him as he works up his pace a little more to carry you over the edge. "there," he's humming proudly, smiling as you manage to squirt out forcefully against him. your come ✨literally sparkles✨ as it coats his finger

as you're floating down from your high, he strokes your hair with his thumb as you lean up against the rest of his hand that's behind you. your eyes are droopy, your body no longer writhing in discomfort. as questionable as his actions might've been, it's clear he's taken care of much of your discomfort- at least for now

whyyy was this hot 🫠🫠 maybe i need to write fantasy shit more often lol

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dandelionsresilience · 8 months ago

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Good News - May 22-28

Like these weekly compilations? Support me on Ko-fi or $Kaybarr1735! Also, if you tip me on Ko-fi or CashApp (and give me some way to contact you if it doesn’t automatically), at the end of the month I'll send you a link to all of the articles I found but didn't use each week - almost double the content!

1. Scientists Invent Healthier More Sustainable Chocolate

“The new chocolate recipe from researchers at ETH Zurich uses more materials from the cocoa pod that are usually discarded, including more of the pulp as well as the inner lining of the husk, known as the endocarp. […] The resulting chocolate also [was “deliciously sweet” and] had 20% more fibre and 30 percent less saturated fat than average European dark chocolate[, and] it could enable cocoa farmers [to] earn more from their crops.”

2. Vermont Is Coming for Big Oil, Making It Pay for Decades of Climate Pollution

“Legislators in Montpelier are on the brink of enacting the "Climate Superfund Act," modeled after the federal Superfund law, that seeks to make oil, gas and coal companies pay for damages linked to historical greenhouse gas emissions. […] Companies would be held liable for the costs associated with […] floods and heat waves, along with losses to biodiversity, safety, economic development and anything else the treasurer deems reasonable[, that were caused by their emissions].”

3. Important bird habitat now protected in the Rocky Mountain Trench

“Grassland-reliant species in the Rocky Mountain Trench now have more protected habitat thanks to a new [270-hectare] conservation area near Cranbrook. […] About one-third of the Skookumchuck Prairie Conservation Area is forested[…,] Most of the site is a dry grassland[…, and] Three hectares of wetlands add to the landscape diversity and offer crucial benefits to wildlife and water systems in the area. This conservation gem also provides habitat for endangered American badger and excellent winter range for elk, mule deer and white-tailed deer.”

4. Lemur Week marked by 70th breeding success

“A wildlife park has celebrated its 70th lemur breeding success ahead of a week raising money to help save the endangered primates. […] The park's open-air Madagascar exhibit is home to 31 free-roaming lemurs and was officially opened in 2008. […] Females are only sexually receptive for just one or two days a year, leaving a small window of opportunity for males to father offspring. […] The two playful siblings, one female and one male, were born to father Bernard and mother Hira.”

5. Innovative material for sustainable building

“Researchers introduce a polymer-based material with unique properties. This material allows sunlight to enter, maintains a more comfortable indoor climate without additional energy, and cleans itself like a lotus leaf. The new development could replace glass components in walls and roofs in the future.”

6. Isle of Wight eagles don't pose threat to lambs as feared

“While there had previously been fears that the eagles would feed on livestock, such as lambs, the project has found no evidence of this. [… “W]hite-tailed eagles effectively steal meals from other predatory birds[, which is] a really important ecological role that had been lost within the landscape and is being restored.” [… The birds’] population was boosted by a chick last year – the first time the species has bred in England in 240 years.”

7. Breakthrough discovery uses engineered surfaces to shed heat

“Cheng's team has found a way to lower the starting point of the [Leidenfrost] effect by producing a surface covered with micropillars. […] The discovery has great potential in heat transfer applications such as the cooling of industrial machines and surface fouling cleaning for heat exchangers. It also could help prevent damage and even disaster to nuclear machinery.”

8. New malaria vaccine delivered for the first time

“A total of 43,000 doses arrived by air today from UNICEF, and another 120,000 are scheduled to show up in the coming days. […] They're the first vaccines designed to work against a human parasite. […] Across four African countries, these trials showed a 75% reduction in malaria cases in the year following vaccination of young children. […] The Serum Institute of India, who will be manufacturing the new vaccine, says a hundred million doses will likely be available to countries by the middle of next year.”

9. Urban gardening may improve human health: Microbial exposure boosts immune system

“"One month of urban indoor gardening boosted the diversity of bacteria on the skin of the subjects and was associated with higher levels of anti-inflammatory cytokines in the blood. The group studied used a growing medium with high microbial diversity emulating the forest soil," [… whereas] the control group used a microbially poor peat-based medium. [… N]o changes in the blood or the skin microbiota were seen. […] “This is the first time we can demonstrate that meaningful and natural human activity can increase the diversity of the microbiota of healthy adults and, at the same time, contribute to the regulation of the immune system."”

10. Cities Are Switching to Electric Vehicles Faster Than Individuals

“[M]ost large cities have adopted some kind of climate goal, and some of them are buying EVs for their municipal fleets at a faster rate than the general public. And that progress could speed up as more EVs enter the market and as cities get educated about grant funding and tax incentives that were passed over the last four years.”

May 15-21 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

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winxanity-ii · 11 months ago

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JOIN US FOR A BITE

ship: polities x fem!lotus eater!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 6.1k a/n: Y'all forgive me, i'm currently addicted to EPIC: The Musical 😭😭😭 i had to get it out......so because i'm such a random ass person, expect a few one-shots of these 🥴

★·.·´🇪‌🇵‌🇮‌🇨‌: 🇹‌🇭‌🇪‌ 🇲‌🇺‌🇸‌🇮‌🇨‌🇦‌🇱‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

In the dappled shade of overhanging trees, you, a daughter of the Lotus Eaters, moved with the silence of a whisper.

The island, your home, was a place of serene beauty and hidden sorrows, where every berry and leaf held stories untold.

As you foraged, the unexpected sound of low voices sliced through the quiet, a rarity in this secluded paradise.

In the heart of the island, where the sun played peek-a-boo through the lush canopy, you were lost in your routine of foraging, the familiar, comforting task providing a rhythm to your day.

The island was your sanctuary, a place where each leaf and berry whispered stories of peace and forgetfulness.

But today, an unfamiliar murmur shattered the symphony of rustling leaves and distant waves—a discordant note that prickled your skin.

Hiding wasn't something you Lotus Eaters did often; your island was a haven, not a battlefield. Yet, instinct took over, and you found yourself crouching under the embracing shadow of an overhanging tree, its leaves casting a mosaic of light and dark around you.

Your heart thudded a frantic rhythm, trying to drown out the low, masculine voices that sliced through the serenity of your world.

You couldn't catch their words clearly, just fragments floating through the air like leaves caught in a breeze—"too worried," "need to relax"—phrases that seemed out of place in the tranquility of your island.

Your curiosity piqued as their voices faded, swallowed by the whispers of the forest. The urge to look, to know, overpowered your hesitation, and you peered through the veil of green, your gaze snagging on flashes of gold.

Gold here was not a common sight. It wasn't woven into your garments or hoarded in chests; it was a color of the sunsets, not of men. Yet, there it was, adorning these strangers in the form of armor, glinting with a promise of other worlds, other wars.

Your breath caught at the sight of their swords, tools of harm so alien to your way of life, and a chill skittered down your spine.

They were heading toward your village, toward your people who knew no harm.

Panic, sharp and urgent, spurred you into motion. You couldn't just sit and watch. The safety of your village, of the gentle souls who had never known the cold bite of steel, was in your hands.

As you darted through the underbrush, the island blurred around you, a whirl of green and brown streaked with your anxiety. "Strangers are coming," you rehearsed in your mind, "armed strangers, with intentions as unclear as the shadowed depths of our waters." Your feet knew the way, carrying you faster than thought, driven by a need to protect, to warn.

Reaching the village felt like emerging from water, a sudden rush of air and noise. Your people, your family, they were all there, living their peaceful lives, unaware of the disturbance heading their way. You gasped for breath, words tumbling out in a rush, "Strangers… armed… heading this way…"

The village's rhythm halted, eyes turning to you, a mixture of confusion and concern blooming on familiar faces. Kio, your elder, stepped forward, his presence like a calm in the storm. "Tell me everything," his voice was the steady beat of the drum, grounding and solid.

As you recounted what little you saw and heard, the weight of responsibility bore down on you. You were a community that thrived on harmony and understanding, yet here you were, the harbinger of potential discord. "I saw their swords," you confessed, the words heavy, "weapons that shows tales of war and death."

The air was thick with unspoken fears, with the weight of what was to come. You stood there, amid your people, feeling the shift in the breeze, a harbinger of change, unwelcome and unbidden.

In that moment, you realized that the sanctuary of your island was no longer a given—and you can't help but wonder what the arrival of these strangers heralds for your people, for your way of life, and for the harmony that has always been your world's heartbeat.

As the last echoes of your warning hang in the air, a sudden rustling at the village's edge cuts through the stillness. You barely have time to finish, "We must hide!" before the underbrush parts, revealing the very strangers you feared. The village, usually a bastion of tranquility, pulses with a mix of apprehension and curiosity.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to the darker-skinned man, whose presence seems to command the sun's rays, casting a warm glow on his deep-toned skin.

He stood out with a demeanor that contrasts sharply with the tense atmosphere, his short, dark curls restrained by a golden headband that speaks of valor yet does not overshadow his approachable aura. His face, framed by a full beard, is alight with a friendly smile, his brown eyes reflecting a depth of wisdom and kindness, suggesting a soul seasoned by journeys and battles yet untouched by their harshness.

He is clad in a heroic ensemble that marries form and function—a chest plate of polished bronze that narrates tales of past skirmishes, worn over a tunic vibrant against the natural backdrop of the village.

Golden armlets encircle his muscular arms, shimmering with each movement, while a belt with intricate designs anchors a leather skirt, designed for the dual demands of agility and protection. His attire is completed with greaves and sandals, hinting at readiness for both celebration and conflict.

Beside him, a man with lighter skin presents a stark contrast, his rigid posture exuding a sense of urgency and latent power. His armor, less adorned yet no less formidable, speaks of a life spent in strategy and combat, his expression one of focus and resolve, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a commander's vigilance.

You watch, your gaze hardening, as Elder Kio and the other respected leaders step forward, their arms spread in a gesture of welcome that's as much a part of your culture as the lotus itself; it's a silent offering of peace and welcome, a tradition unbroken for generations.

The children, with their innocent faces peeking out from behind their mothers' skirts, gawked at the men, their usual playground of earth and sky momentarily forgotten.

The mothers, though curious, held their children close, sensing the shift in the wind, the ripple of change that these strangers brought with them.

A greeting that's supposed to be met with gratitude is instead met with tension.

The lighter one, his armor catching the sun's rays, draws his sword in a swift motion that cuts the air and the brief moment of peace.

The reaction is immediate. The elders halt in their tracks, their expressions morphing from open welcome to guarded caution. The villagers, their voices once rising in a harmonious welcome, now fall silent, their songs of greeting dissolving into a tense hush.

The children, sensing the shift, draw closer to their mothers, their expressions morphing from excitement to a dawning unease.

"Stay back!" the command ripples through the gathered crowd, a stark contrast to the open-hearted reception offered by your people; it acts as chilling reminder of the potential danger these strangers represent.

The villagers, once buoyed by curiosity and the novelty of new faces, now retreat into a wary distance, their initial welcome cooling into a collective apprehension; unused to such intensity, leaned in, their eyes flickering between the sword in his hand and the stoic expressions of their elders.

Yet, you, alongside the village elders, remain steadfast, your eyes locked on the two men who've disrupted the peace of your haven.

"We're only here for food," the lighter one said, his voice carrying the weight of command and desperation. "I need enough to feed 600 men."

The word 'food' echoed through the crowd, a simple yet profound need that resonated with every villager. Your people, always so giving, now faced a dilemma as the shadow of the upcoming drought season loomed over the island like an ominous cloud, now facing the prospect of feeding an army.

Elder Kio looked worried; his face, etched with the lines of countless smiles and furrowed brows of concern, now bore a look of deep contemplation. He's seen a lot over the years, and you could tell he was trying to figure out what to do. His eyes, reflecting a storm of thoughts, met the soldier's—an exchange brimming with the weight of unspoken negotiations.

With his stance firm and his expression unyielding, the pale one held Kio's gaze. The elder's eyes, usually reflecting pools of calm, now mirrored the tumultuous sea of issues before him.

The island, a paradise of peace and plenty, was unused to such extreme demands, and Kio's hesitation was a testament of the conflict within—a battle between the inner desire to extend a hand in hospitality or the impending need to safeguard their future against the looming threat of scarcity.

Before Elder Kio could open his mouth to offer a bit of help despite future trouble, the soldier cut him off, sensing the hesitation, sharpened his stance, "Stay back, I'm warning you," he repeated, his sword gleaming menacingly in the sunlight. "If we don't get back safely, my men will turn this place into blazes."

The threat hung in the air, stark and chilling. A collective shiver ran through the villagers, a silent wave of fear that you felt keenly. Your own reaction was immediate—a frown, a tightening of your jaw, an instinctive readiness to defend your home against this thinly veiled menace.

Yet, from across the clearing, your mother's calm gaze met yours. Her presence, unswayed by the lotus's usual soporific effect, served as a silent beacon of restraint. Her eyes, so like your own, whispered a message of patience and wisdom, cooling the fire of your indignation.

Around you, the elders, those first-generation Lotus Eaters who seldom displayed such collective lucidity, stood with a shared gravity. Their usual, dreamlike detachment was replaced by a sharp, collective focus, a rare and telling shift that spoke volumes of the gravity of the situation.

"Odysseus, my friend, it's okay to greet the world with open arms, no need to be harsh," the darker one spoke in a gentle tone, trying to dispel the tension; his words, meant to soothe, seemed almost out of place against the backdrop of his companion's stark ultimatum.

The lighter one—Odysseus—still on edge, shot a glance at his friend, his expression a mix of frustration and urgency. "We need to find food for our men, Polites," he insisted, the weight of his responsibility evident in his voice.

The villagers watched, a silent audience to this back-and-forth between the two men.

Elder Kio, after a moment of anxious contemplation, stepped forward, his voice steady but his concern clear. "We can offer you some of our reserves," he said to Odysseus, "It's not much, but we're willing to share what we have."

With a nod from Kio, a few of the women villagers moved toward the storerooms, their steps hesitant but determined. Kio then turned his gaze to you and a small group of young villagers standing nearby.

With a subtle but firm nod, he signaled for you to assist in gathering the provisions.

Watching you all get into action, Polites' face lights up in with relief, nudged Odysseus. "See? You were worrying for nothing," he said, a small smile playing on his lips.

Just then, a young child, innocent to the tension, approached the men with a tray of refreshments, among them the lotus fruit. Polites reached out, his hand hovering over the fruit, drawn to its vibrant hue.

Odysseus's hand shot out, stopping Polites just in time. "Wait," he cautioned, eyeing the fruit with suspicion.

And as the little boy who had offered the tray turned to leave, Odysseus called out to him, "Hey, wait a minute, boy." His voice, firm yet not unkind, prompted the child to halt in his tracks and look back, a mix of curiosity and wariness in his eyes.

The boy, clutching the hem of his shirt, took hesitant steps back toward the two strangers. His gaze flitted between the fruit in Odysseus's hand and the stern look on the man's face.

"What's this?" Odysseus asked, holding up the luminescent fruit for the boy to see. The child, now standing a safe distance away, glanced at the fruit and then up at Odysseus's questioning eyes.

"I-It's what we eat here," the boy replied, his voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of the watching villagers. "It makes people happy."

Odysseus exchanged a quick, meaningful look with Polites, who wore an expression of dawning understanding mixed with concern. The child, sensing the men's unease, added, "It's good… it helps people forget their sadness."

Odysseus, still locked in his silent communication with Polites, missed the approach of an older teenager who came to retrieve the young boy. The girl, with a respectful bow, offered a gentle apology for the interruption, her actions protective as she guided the boy to stand behind her, his curious eyes peeking out from her leg.

As the villagers began to place baskets filled with an assortment of foods beside the men, Odysseus turned his attention to the girl. "Is what the child said true? You eat these?" he inquired, gesturing towards the lotus fruit in his hand.

The girl nodded, her eyes fixed on the ground, a hint of defensiveness in her posture. "Yes," she confirmed softly, "we use the fruit as a base for many of our meals." Her hand swept towards the growing pile of food offerings, which included more than just the fruit, illustrating the variety in their diet.

When the girl and child left, Odysseus picked up one of the fruits. "Look at this," he said, holding it high, its seeds emitting a faint glow. "Do you see how it glows? This is a lotus fruit. It's not just any food; it affects your mind, traps you in bliss." He then turned to Polites with a stern look, his words sharp and clear. "If we indulge in this, we could become like the lotus eaters here, essentially addicts lost to their escape, detached from reality."

With a gesture that carried a mix of disdain and warning, Odysseus dropped the fruit to the ground, his hand swiftly brushing against his pants, as if to rid himself of its influence.

You returned to the scene, arms aching slightly from helping to transport the village's food reserves, only to catch Odysseus's dismissive gesture as he dropped a lotus fruit to the ground. His words, laden with disdain, hung heavily in the air, criticizing the very essence of your people's way of life.

You felt a surge of emotions as you stood there, witnessing this display of ignorance. Anger bubbled up inside you, mixed with a deep sadness.

These outsiders didn't understand. They didn't see that the lotus fruit, while powerful, was not a chain but a choice for many who came to your island seeking peace from their troubled pasts.

You knew the stories well—of travelers and wanderers, lost souls who found solace on your shores, much like your own parents had.

You were a child of two lotus eaters who had discovered love and a new beginning amidst the island's gentle embrace. Unlike the outsiders' assumptions, you all lived in harmony, connecting deeply with each other's hearts and minds, a unity that was rare and precious.

Odysseus's words, though meant for Polites, echoed through the village, casting a shadow over the offered hospitality. The villagers' expressions shifted from welcome to wariness, their eyes reflecting a mix of hurt and disappointment.

The notion that your home, your culture, and your people were reduced to being labeled as 'useless' by those who knew nothing of your world cut deeply.

It was a stark reminder of how the outside world viewed the lotus eaters—a place of forgetfulness and oblivion, not healing and community.

The tension in the village was palpable, a thick veil of unease that hung over the villagers, all felt but unseen by Odysseus and Polites. Polites, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, took a modest step forward, his head slightly bowed, exuding a sense of genuine remorse.

"Lotus eaters," Polites addressed the villagers with a tone full of sincerity, "I apologize for the misunderstanding. We, as soldiers, must remain vigilant and at our peak, which means we cannot partake in your lotus fruit." While his apology was sincere, it didn't sit well with the villagers.

The fact that it was Polites apologizing, and not Odysseus—the one who had actually insulted the community—only intensified the villagers' resentment and frustration.

The villagers exchanged glances, questioning why the man who had caused the offense hadn't stepped forward to make amends himself.

Elder Kio, masking the village's collective discomfort with a practiced ease, responded, "The cave," he stated simply, his voice imbued with a reassuring calm that seemed to gently brush away the lingering tension.

Polites' interest piqued. "A cave! You're saying there's a cave where we could feast? Where might we find this food-filled cave?" His tone carried a mix of curiosity and relief.

Kio, with a gentle nod, extended his arm eastward, as if presenting a gift. "Eastward…There lies a cave you seek, abundant and generous, just as our village strives to be. It'll take 3 days and 2 nights to reach."

Gratitude washed over Polites' features, lighting them up with a grateful smile. "Thank you!" he exclaimed, his appreciation clear.

"You are most welcome," echoed the villagers, their chorus of voices a blend of politeness and restraint, a testament to their enduring hospitality even in the face of discomfort.

Kio then turned to you, his next words taking everyone by surprise—including you. "We also offer a guide's service to lead you there," he said, gesturing toward you. "She's the best on the entire island."

You felt a jolt of responsibility as all eyes turned to you. As Kio's gaze met yours, a silent message passed between you, clear and unmistakable.

You could almost hear his unspoken strategy: Feed them to the beasts, since they want to behave as such.

Understanding Kio's underlying intention, you stepped forward from the crowd, now the focus of Odysseus and Polites' attention. "I need just a moment to prepare," you told them, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of thoughts inside you. "Then, you'll guide me to your ship to gather more of your men before we start for the cave."

As you stepped out to meet Odysseus and Polites, their eyes landed on you, taking in your appearance for the first time. The tropical sun of your island home cast a warm glow on your rich brown skin, highlighting your beauty and the distinctiveness of your village's attire.

You stood there, embodying the spirit of your people with your attire that was both practical for the island's warmth and symbolic of your culture.

Your outfit consisted of a dark brown loincloth, complementing your skin tone, paired with a bralette fashioned from sparkling beads that caught the light with every movement, signaling your status and style.

Your hair, a cascade of back-length, fuzzy locks, was adorned with beads whose colors denoted your age and status within the village.

At 19, the azure and emerald beads woven into your hair were a vibrant mix, reflecting your youth and vigor, and marking you as one of the youngest warriors and hunters of your people.

Your arms bore white tattoos, striped patterns that ran up to your shoulders, interspersed with specks of blue and seafoam green, signifying your prowess and skill.

Around your lower stomach and navel, intricate grayish designs sprawled, symbolizing your single status and fertility, a visual marker that you are of age and ready to bear children, aligning with the island's traditions and its deep-rooted connection to the cycles of life and continuity.

Beauty marks dotted gracefully along the bridge of your nose and over your cupid's bow, drawing attention to your face, enhancing your natural features, and expressing the unique blend of strength and elegance that characterized your presence.

Polites' reaction was immediate as his gaze swept over you; his brown cheeks flushed a slight shade of pink, a subtle but telling reaction to your striking appearance. There was an unmistakable look of admiration in his eyes, a clear indication that he found you to be perhaps the most beautiful woman he had ever encountered.

Under his breath, awestruck, he murmured a phrase that likened you to the goddess of beauty herself, "By Aphrodite's grace…" His words were a whisper, a testament to the impression you'd made on him, acknowledging your beauty as one that could rival the goddess's unparalleled allure.

Even Odysseus, whose heart was steadfastly anchored to Penelope, couldn't ignore the striking presence you radiated.

While loyalty to his wife remained unshaken, he recognized the undeniable fact that your beauty was something extraordinary, a rare and captivating elegance, one that could easily stir the hearts of men and gods alike.

He thought to himself that your beauty was such that, were it known beyond this secluded island, it might provoke kingdoms to vie for your favor, much like they once did for Helen of Troy—igniting conflicts driven by desire and admiration.

You quickly made your way to your family's tent to collect the necessary items for the journey ahead. Inside the small, familiar space, you grabbed a satchel, packing it with essential items: a few lotus fruits, a canteen of water, a bow and arrows, and a knife, which you secured around your thigh.

As part of the preparation, you began to apply dark paint to your face, a method used by your village's hunters to meld into the night, a tactic you knew would serve well in the environment you were about to navigate.

Your mother entered the tent, her face etched with concern. She understood the gravity of your task, her maternal instinct overshadowing the usual lotus-induced calm. "I know you can handle this," she said, her voice laced with a mix of pride and worry, "but be cautious around those soldiers. It's not the giants that I fear for you, but the company you'll be keeping on this journey."

Your heart softened at her words, touched by the depth of her concern. Your mother, with her gentle spirit and enduring strength, had faced her own harrowing journey before embracing the lotus's forgetful peace.

The fact that her past might include such dark experiences, particularly involving men, made her caution all the more touching.

It was a reminder of the life she led before the island, the trials she endured, and the refuge she found among the lotus eaters. Her concern for you now, in the context of being alone with the soldiers, was a reflection of her own vulnerabilities and the protective love she held for you.

You met her gaze, your expression resolute, offering reassurance. "I'm the right person for this," you affirmed, echoing the confidence Kio placed in you. In a gesture steeped in your village's traditions, you pressed your forehead against hers, a moment of silent solidarity and affection that transcended words.

Pulling back with a smile, you reached into your satchel and gently placed a lotus fruit in her hand. She returned your smile, a gesture of mutual understanding and love, before consuming the fruit. Her eyes soon glazed over, a serene calm washing over her as the fruit's effects took hold, guiding her back to a blissful repose next to your father.

With a final, affectionate kiss on her forehead, you ensured she was comfortably resting before turning your attention back to the task at hand.

Your face now marked for the hunt, your gear secured, and your heart steeled for what lay ahead, you stepped out of the tent with a determined stride, ready to confront whatever challenges awaited with Odysseus and Polites.

As you traversed the winding path with Odysseus and Polites, the latter seemed increasingly eager to engage with you, his intrigue clearly sparked by more than just your striking appearance.

Polites' attempts at conversation were persistent, as he ventured to break through your focused demeanor with a series of stuttered, simple questions.

"So, um, do you… do you always assist with… such tasks?" Polites inquired, his voice wavering slightly as he sought to learn more about you.

You didn't immediately respond, your attention fixed on the journey ahead, but his persistent curiosity eventually drew your gaze.

When your eyes finally met his, he was met with a flush of embarrassment, his cheeks turning a noticeable shade of red. He offered a shy, somewhat awkward smile, his hands fumbling with his shield in a nervous gesture, betraying his unease under your scrutinizing look.

"And, ah, the… the paint," he stumbled on his words again, gesturing vaguely towards your face, "Is it… for camouflage, or…?" His question trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air, incomplete.

You observed his flustered state for a moment, the warrior seemingly at odds with his usual battlefield composure, now unsettled by the simple act of conversing with you. His earnestness, juxtaposed with his bashfulness, painted a starkly different picture from the soldierly demeanor you'd expected.

Odysseus, observing his friend's futile efforts, couldn't help but interject with a scoff. "I'm not sure why you're bothering," he remarked to Polites, his voice tinged with a mix of amusement and disdain. "She's probably lost in the haze of lotus fruit, like the rest of them here."

This assumption ignited a spark of anger within you. Up until now, you had maintained a composed silence, but Odysseus's words struck a nerve. Turning to face him, your eyes flashed with indignation.

"How dare you," you began, your voice slicing through the tension like a blade, "judge us so arrogantly?" The words tumbled out, sharp and unrelenting. "Men like you—soldiers—are the very reason why so many seek refuge on this island. Some of us are survivors of village plunders, forced to witness the atrocities committed by armies, the horrors inflicted upon innocent lives."

Your gaze intensified, boring into his as you took in the full measure of the man before you. "You inflict unspeakable horrors and drape them in the guise of glory, yet you stand here, with blood still staining your hands, daring to pass judgment on us? On how we choose to heal our wounds?"

Odysseus's eyes shifted away under the weight of your accusation, a flicker of discomfort, perhaps even guilt, crossing his features as he was confronted with the stark mirror of his actions.

You paused, ensuring your next words hit home. "You know nothing of our resilience," you continued, your tone edged with a cold clarity, "And for your information, offspring of lotus eaters, like myself, aren't as affected by the fruit's power. We retain our minds, our memories, and, most importantly, our judgments."

The air hung heavy between you, charged with your spoken truths. Odysseus, now looking away, seemed momentarily lost for words, the usual confidence of the seasoned warrior faltering under the weight of your piercing glare and the bitter truths it conveyed.

In this moment of silence, Polites saw an opportunity to shift the atmosphere, perhaps lighten the heavy load of the conversation that had just transpired. He ventured to draw your attention away from the discomfort, eager to see a different side of you beyond the anger and the pain.

"So, uh…" Polites began, a cautious optimism in his voice, "Do the… lotus fruits taste like… regular fruits, or are they… different?" His question, awkward yet sincere, seemed to pierce through the lingering tension.

Your initial reaction was to maintain your guarded demeanor, but something about his genuine curiosity and the awkward earnestness in his attempt sparked a different response within you.

A soft laugh escaped your lips, not mocking but genuine, a sound that seemed to momentarily lift the heavy cloak of your responsibilities and the grim realities of your world.

Polites' reaction was immediate; his smile widened, his cheeks flushed with a renewed sense of hope as he heard the lightness in your laughter.

It was a sound, he realized, that he wanted to understand more, to hear again, not just as a distraction from the weight of the journey ahead but as a glimpse into the person you truly were beneath the warrior's exterior.

Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't so bad after all—a thought that, for a fleeting moment, allowed you to see him not just as a soldier from a foreign land but as a person capable of recognizing and respecting your humanity.

Over the two days spent guiding Odysseus, Polites, and the other Trojan guards to the cave, you noticed a shift in your own defenses.

While Odysseus and his men maintained a distance, treating you with a detached wariness or outright indifference, Polites pursued a different path. His presence was a constant by your side, his demeanor gentle, marked by a curiosity that felt genuine and devoid of judgment.

His questions, simple yet insightful, sparked conversations you hadn't anticipated. "What's life like on the island for you?" he'd ask, or "Have you ever tried Pastelis?" His inquiries, far from the prying or strategic, seemed to stem from a place of genuine interest, a desire to understand your world and perhaps to find common ground.

Even when the group settled down for the night, Polites' attentiveness didn't wane.

As the others succumbed to sleep or took up their watchful posts, he remained by your side, sharing stories under the blanket of stars. His tales of battles fought alongside Odysseus, of distant lands and fierce confrontations, offered a glimpse into his life beyond the armor and sword.

On one particularly windy night, as the campfire flickered and cast its glow on the weary faces of the slumbering soldiers, Polites drew closer to you.

With a thoughtful gesture, he unfurled the cape attached to his armor and draped it around the both of you, creating a shared warmth against the chill of the night.

There, beside the dwindling bonfire, with the sounds of the night around you and the rest of the troops lost in their dreams or watchful silence, a different kind of connection began to form.

The stories he told, imbued with his personal experiences, fears, and triumphs, resonated with you, bridging the gap between your worlds. His willingness to open up, to share the realities of his life beyond the battlefield, painted him in a more humane light, contrasting sharply with the silent, stoic figures of Odysseus and the other guards.

By the third day, with the cave's looming presence just a few hours away, your initial resolve began to waver. Polites' consistent kindness and attention gradually chipped away at the wall you had built around yourself; you found yourself engaging more with him, answering his questions, sharing glimpses of your life and views, which you hadn't expected to divulge.

His attentive nature, so starkly different from the others', made you see him in a new light—not just as a soldier but as someone who might truly be seeking understanding and connection.

The thought of guiding them into potential danger, particularly the danger represented by the giants' cave, made you question not only your mission but also the potential consequences of your actions for him and his companions.

As the ominous entrance of the cave loomed in the distance, you halted atop a hill, the wind carrying your firm words to the group of soldiers. "This is where I leave you," you declared, your voice echoing a mix of duty and unease. "I must return to my village."

The soldiers, heeding your announcement, resumed their march toward the cave, but Polites faltered, his steps slowing as he turned to cast a lingering glance in your direction. Odysseus, noticing his friend's hesitation, paused, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

Polites' internal struggle was evident, torn between his obligations and the connection he felt with you.

After a moment's contemplation, he jogged back to where you stood, his hand extended, revealing a small, shimmering coin. "This is an Ithaca gold coin," he explained as you examined the coin with a mix of curiosity and surprise. "Consider it a memento," he added, a gentle sincerity in his voice.

His next words were softer, imbued with a shy yet profound promise. "After we complete our journey, after I ensure Odysseus's safe return to his kingdom, I will come back for you," he vowed, his eyes searching yours for a reaction, revealing a budding warmth and longing.

In a fleeting moment, Polites leaned forward, his forehead gently pressing against yours, an intimate gesture that held significant meaning within your culture.

You felt a surge of emotion, your heart fluttering with a blend of surprise and warmth, as you realized he not only remembered this detail from your conversations over the past three days but also understood its deep significance.

This forehead touch, a symbol of profound trust and affection, was reserved for those you hold dear, those you would trust with your life.

The fact that Polites, a man from a world so different from your own, had not only remembered this but chose to express his farewell in such a manner, spoke volumes of his respect and growing affection for you.

Leaning back, Polites adds a tender kiss on your forehead; his hand then gently caressed the side of your face, a silent affirmation of the bond that had formed between you.

With a final, meaningful glance, Polites turned and hurried to rejoin his companions, leaving you with the weight of his promise and the gold coin in your hand.

After Polites' departure, you stood there, the Ithacan coin clutched tightly against your chest, a tangible reminder of the connection you'd just acknowledged. Odysseus's gaze lingered on you, his expression one of contemplation and perhaps, newfound respect.

Defensively, feeling the intensity of his stare, you challenged him with a sharp "What?" Odysseus exhaled deeply, his sigh carrying the weight of realization and regret.

"May the gods bless you," he finally said, offering a small nod of acknowledgment, a gesture that seemed to convey his admission of having misjudged you and your people. It was an apology, unspoken but clear in his demeanor.

As he turned to leave, your name on his lips as a farewell, you found yourself compelled to act. "Odysseus," you called out, causing him to pause and look back.

Approaching him with averted eyes, you reached into your satchel, the rustle of leaves underfoot marking your hesitant steps.

From your bag, you retrieved a lotus fruit, its familiar weight a contrast to the swirling emotions within you. Extending your hand, you offered the fruit to him, your voice a soft murmur, "Just in case you need it…" Your words trailed off, laden with an unspoken wish for his well-being, your gaze drifting past him, lingering on Polites.

There he was, amidst his fellow soldiers, his laughter a bright sound in the dense forest, his smile a vivid image that tugged at your heartstrings.

With that silent offering, you turned away, leaving Odysseus to contemplate the fruit in his hand, his expression a mix of gratitude and confusion.

As you walked back to your village, the gold coin Polites had given you felt heavy in your hand, a symbol of promise and longing.

Your steps were slow, each one a reluctant move away from the hilltop and the cave, away from the man who had unexpectedly captured your heart.

The promise of his return was a fragile thread of hope, and as the distance grew, you clung to it, letting the silent plea echo in your mind, a mantra to guide you through the days ahead…

Please come back to me, Polites...I'll be waiting.

A/N: my babbyyyyyy pollie 🥹❤️❤️❤️ also, testing out my hand at extravagant/poetic like descriptive writing for a college class, so forgive me if I went overboard with the imagery/visuals 🙈🙈

#xani-writes: polities fics #epic the musical #epic the ocean saga #epic the musical fanfic #jorge rivera herrans #the ocean saga #polites x reader #epic the musical x reader #greek mythology #greek gods #the odyssey #the odyssey x reader #polites x you #polites x y/n #etl #the troy saga #the cyclops saga #x reader

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breelandwalker · 2 years ago

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Simple Moon Spell - One Dozen Wishes

Intent: To create a jar of potential wishes, to be used as needed.

Materials:

Small Jar

Whole Bay Leaves (12)

Moonlight

In addition to their usefulness in spells for protection, wisdom, and healing, bay leaves are a potent ingredient for wishmaking. This spell does not specifically create a wishing spell, but it prepares a small supply of leaves for future spellwork, using the fulfilling energy of the full moon to pre-charge the component.

Obtain a bag of whole bay leaves. These can usually be found in the spices and seasonings aisle at the grocery store, or you can order them from a botanical supplier if you wish. Prepare a clean, dry jar with a lid as you see fit. Select twelve leaves, as whole and unbroken as possible, and place them into the jar. Cap the jar and leave it to soak up the moonlight on the next full moon evening.

When you have need of some wishmaking magic, take a single leaf from the jar, write your wish upon it, and use it in your spell. The use of the leaf depends on your casting method - you can include it in a jar or sachet charm, cast it into fire or water, or bury it to help your desired results grow, to name just a few.

Use the leaves as needed and when the supply is exhausted, you can pick twelve new leaves and refill the jar.

Happy Witching! 🔮🍃

#witchcraft #witch community #witchblr #baby witch #spells #green witchcraft #witch tips #moon spells #lunar magic

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prythianpages · 1 year ago

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Cruel, Wicked Thing | Eris x Reader

summary: you are betrothed to Sawyer Vanserra yet that doesn't stop the eldest Vanserra from wanting you.

warnings: I can't really think of anything? this isn't really fluff or angst, just eris longing. slow burn maybe?

a/n: this can be read as a stand alone imagine but it's a part two to this. I intended the second part to be something else but then I ended up writing this scene and it didn't really fit the vibes I was going with so I decided to just post it separately.

As Eris steps out into the courtyard gardens, his gaze is immediately drawn to you. You’re seated upon one of the stone benches that faces the grand water fountain, the one where he first met you. His steps slow, compelled to take in the sight of you. The sun’s light filters through the clouds, caressing your features with a golden glow as you delicately turn the pages of a book. A gentle breeze rustles through the Autumn trees, creating a ballet of falling leaves and causing loose strands of your hair to dance in the air. As the wind carries the sweet scent of rose and honey to him, Eris inhales deeply.

Among the fluttering leaves, a single one lands atop your head, a delicate crown bestowed by nature itself. Yet, you remain unaware. You’re completely lost to the realm of literature in your lap. The same way Eris is lost in you.

He wonders if he should turn and walk the other way. Much like he has done in the weeks that you’ve moved into the Forest house. He doesn’t want to avoid you but the magnetic pull you exert is thrilling yet fear-inducing. So he's resorted to studying you from afar. He knows you enjoy walking around the gardens, reading and hanging around the stables. He knows you well enough to know you don't belong in a cruel court such as this one.

Yet, the Cauldron has unequivocally marked you as someone special to him and he finds himself wary of the potential depth of affection you might set ablaze within his guarded heart. It’s laughable, how someone as sweet and pure as you is so dangerous to him.

You are engaged to his younger brother, Sawyer. And Eris? He’s engaged in the delicate balance of playing the role of the perfect son—perfect heir—all while conspiring against his own father. He cannot afford to harbor any weakness nor does he want to drag you into the depths of his hell.

But as he looks around the gardens, he confirms there’s no one else around. He then decides to indulge himself, even if only for a little bit.

As he walks toward you, he deliberately steps on the fallen leaves, allowing them to crunch under his boot. The intentional sound announces his approach and has you looking up. Your eyes widen in surprise as you sit up straight.

“Lord Eris.”

The corner of his lips quirk up and he greets you with the same formality. “Lady y/n.”

His fingers reach out to delicately pluck an orange leaf from the crown of your head. The touch lingers longer than necessary, and “accidentally,” his hand brushes against the softness of your cheek as he lowers it. The lingering contact leaves you slightly flustered, a soft blush creeping up on your face—a reaction he takes delight in.

“I’m surprised you haven’t run away,” he remarks.

Eris knows the past three weeks have been rough for you. He’s not only seen it as you chased Sawyer, your unfortunate husband to be, like a lost puppy but he’s also felt it. On occasion, he sends one of his hounds, Clover, to cheer you up. Even the vicious little creature has fallen victim to you, revealing a softer side in your presence. One she normally only shows Eris.

Your father, a busy and highly esteemed merchant, departed as soon as he signed your marriage contract, leaving you to navigate the Autumn Court alone. Sawyer barely gives you the time of day. It’s a double edged sword because though Sawyer is content with neglecting you, he is the lesser evil of his three remaining brothers.

Sawyer’s disinterest for you, however, often leaves you vulnerable to his two other brothers, Hunter and Oliver. Hunter, who much like his name, always has a thirst and desire to give chase to anything that isn’t his and Oliver–well, Oliver lusts after anything with two legs. The thought of them touching you–hurting you–sends a fire to course through his veins. It reaches his hand, small flames emerging from his fingertips and the leaf in his hand succumbs to ashes. He brushes them off, feigning nonchalance, grateful that you're unfazed.

With a deft motion, you dog-ear the page you were on before closing your book and gracefully rising to your feet. Upon realizing his attention drifting to the book in your hands, you swiftly hide it behind your back.

“Why would I run away? Maybe, I’m right where I want to be.”

As his gaze lifts to meet yours, a flicker of surprise and curiosity dances in his amber eyes. Bold words. Unlike you. Despite your hands held behind your back, the subtle nervous twitch of your arm muscles is not lost on him.

“But you’re unhappy,” Eris says and he almost expects the emotions churning within you to come to surface. For you to agree. For you to complain. He leans in closer to you, willing to listen.

You do none of that, though. Instead, you force a smile onto your face. One that fails to reach your eyes. "I'm very happy.”

“Well, you’re very convincing.”

“And you’re very nosey.”

Eris lets out an exhale through his nose and you shrink back, worried you have offended him. The small smirk that lifts the corner of his lips soothes your concern. “I kind of have to be, angel. This is my court and I am to rule over it someday. It is my duty to be aware of everything that goes on.”

“Perhaps, I should start with finding out what had you so captivated earlier.” Eris adds, eyeing the book you continue to conceal behind your back.

You take a step back, fingers tightening against your book but it’s useless. In a heartbeat, the book disappears from your grasp and reappears in Eris’s thanks to his magic. He holds it up in a taunting manner and you’re running after him.

“Eris!”

A spark ignites in his amber eyes as he recognizes the title, and a chuckle escapes him at your adorable yet desperate attempt to reach for the book. He holds it higher, taking full advantage of his height.

“You shock me, angel. I didn't pin you to be the type to read–”

“Please give it back.”

Eris pauses for a moment in deep contemplation. You are asking so nicely–begging, more like it. But he finds that he likes the way you’re madly blushing at him too much. He shakes the urge to give into your puppy dog eyes. “I don’t think so…shall I start reading where you left off, hmm?”

Panic flashes in your wide eyes as you desperately lunge forward to retrieve your book. However, Eris's quick reflexes had him turning away, causing you to trip over the pavestone. With Eris's body no longer there to block your path, you found yourself tumbling into the water fountain with a loud splash.

The water is cold and has you gasping, goosebumps rising on your skin. You lift your gaze and though you glare at him, he finds it adorable. Absolutely endearing. He tilts his head back in laughter and the sound softens your gaze.

Eris is still laughing when you hold out your hand to him expectantly. “What?”

Your eyebrows knit together in disbelief. “Aren’t you going to be a gentleman and offer me your hand?”

Unspoken desires stir within him as he gazes at your outstretched hand. In his eyes, there's a subtle ache, a silent wish to offer you more than just his hand. The wave of your hand has him breaking from his thoughts. This time, he takes it. He fails to notice the gleam in your eyes as he does. He doesn’t realize his mistake until it’s already too late–until he’s falling into the fountain and on top of you. Quick reflexes save your book from the water, while one hand is planted at your side to avoid the full weight of his fall.

“Not so funny now, is it?” Your laughter dies in your throat and your voice embarrassingly losing its vigor as you both find yourselves unexpectedly close in the watery aftermath.

Wide amber eyes, bathed in the warm glow of honeyed hues, lock onto yours. His chest is pressed against you and his nose is so close to yours, they’re almost brushing. All you can hear is the soothing sound of running water and his soft breath. You can feel the warmth of it too and the way his chest rises and falls with every breath.

“You cruel, wicked thing,” he murmurs, voice dripping in velvet, capturing the not so subtle shift in your gaze from his eyes to his lips.

He does the same, also well aware of how close he is to you. Gods, you’re dangerously close to him and as your eyes flutter shut, anticipation charges the air. A mere inch closer, and he could savor the allure of your lips—your pretty but devilish lips. The mere notion sets his heart aflutter. The golden string, binding you both together, seems to tug at him insistently, reeling him in.

Closer, the bond in his chest sings. Closer–

A series of distinct and deliberate chimes has both of you abruptly turning your heads towards the grand clock that oversees the gardens. Eris suppresses a sigh. He has to go but doesn’t want to leave. Reluctantly, he pulls away and rises to his feet, stepping out of the fountain. He then offers you his hand, helping you up. When your shoes slip along the fountain’s tiles, he chuckles and helps steady you by bringing you close to his chest.

“Thanks,” escapes you in a breathless whisper, the frenzy of your mind leaving no room for any other words.

Once you’re back on steady feet, he distances himself from you, careful not to betray the protest of his heart. While you wrap your arms around your cold, trembling form, your gaze lowers to the book he safeguarded through the entire ordeal. Eris summons every ounce of strength to resist the urge to rush towards you and warm you with his kiss. He has to leave now.

“I’ll return your book to you,” Eris promises, smirking at the small sigh of relief you let out and mischievously adds: “Once I’m done with it.”

Then, Eris leaves before you can say a single word. Before you can unravel his resolve further. You’re dangerous, he reminds himself. A cruel wicked thing that beckons a wayward soul like his to crave entry into heaven. Not just any heaven, but yours.

a/n: what type of book do we think the lovely reader was reading? lol I do have 2 more parts planned for this little au and maybe more 👀 depending on how the other 2 parts go (they're both inspired by songs and i'm literally just going with the vibes now since I'm really indecisive on how I want to go with this au. I have so many ideas.)

#eris x reader #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra imagine #eris vanserra #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #eris angel au

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theoccultmoon · 2 months ago

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Herbal Allies: A Beginner's Guide ☪

When we think of herbal magick, it’s easy to picture exotic, hard-to-find ingredients mugwort from a far-off land or frankincense gathered from ancient trees. But the truth is, magick can be found in the plants right outside your door. Today, we’ll talk about how to build a connection with these everyday allies and use them to deepen your practice.

Start by Observing ☼

Magick begins with awareness. Spend time outside or with the plants in your home, whether it’s a sprawling garden, a single potted herb, or wild plants in a nearby park.

Observe their growth patterns, textures, and how they react to light, water, and your touch. Does the plant feel vibrant, slow, or protective? Each plant carries a unique energy signature, and tuning in will help you sense its magickal potential. Keep a journal of your observations note how the plant changes with the seasons, any interactions you have with it, or simply what draws you to it.

The Energy of Everyday Plants ✧₊⁺

You don’t need rare herbs to create powerful magick. Common plants like dandelions, clover, or even rosemary from your kitchen hold immense potential:

Dandelions: Resilience and adaptability, great for spells focusing on strength or new beginnings.

Clover: Traditionally linked with luck and protection.

Rosemary: A kitchen staple for cleansing, memory, and energetic protection.

Take time to explore the plants in your environment. Look up their traditional uses in folklore or magickal practices. You might be surprised by the treasures growing in your own backyard.

Communicating with Plants୨ৎ

Plants are living beings, and connecting with them on a spiritual level can enrich your practice. Here are a few ways to establish a relationship:

⟡Meditate near the plant: Sit quietly and focus on its energy. How does it feel to you calm, vibrant, or grounding?

⟡Touch and listen: Gently hold a leaf or flower and see if you can sense any shifts in your energy.

⟡Speak to the plant: Thank it for its presence and offer it water or compost as a gesture of gratitude.

Ask for guidance or permission: If you’re harvesting a leaf or flower, always ask permission. You may feel a sense of “yes” or “no” in your intuition honor it. The more you engage with a plant, the more its energy will resonate with yours.

Using Herbal Allies in Magick✧˚ · .

Once you’ve built a connection, there are countless ways to work with plants in your magickal practice, I'll leave here some examples:

⟡Herbal Sachets: Combine leaves or flowers in a small pouch for protection, love, or prosperity.

⟡Offerings: Use a sprig of rosemary or a handful of clover as a symbolic offering to your deities or spirits.

⟡Sigil Crafting: Press a flower or leaf and use it to decorate or enhance your sigils.

⟡Teas and Infusions: Brew plants like mint, chamomile, or lavender for relaxation and spiritual focus.

Always harvest respectfully never take more than you need, and leave enough for the plant to thrive.

Building a Relationship Takes Time ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

Working with herbal allies isn’t just a one-time act. It’s a relationship. The more you engage with a plant, the deeper your understanding of its energy will grow.

Take time to learn the folklore or history behind the plants you’re drawn to. Document your experiences in an “herbal grimoire,” where you can record their uses, personal observations, and any spells you’ve created with them.

Herbal allies don’t have to be rare or expensive. The plants around you whether in a garden, a park, or your own kitchen are full of magick, waiting to be discovered. Take time to connect, listen, and learn from them.

Have you worked with local plants in your practice? Share your favorite herbal allies and their stories I’d love to hear them! (:

#witch #witchcore #witchcraft #witches #witchy vibes #green witch #chaos witch #nature #plants #garden #plant witch #nature witch #witchy tips #witch community #witchblr #plantblr

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oaresearchpaper · 9 months ago

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#Cicer arietinum (L.)#Water stress #Terminal drought #Relative water content #Leaf water potential #Photosynthesis rate

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enchantedwitchling · 7 months ago

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Unlocking the Mysteries: Divination for Beginner Witches🔮✨🖤

(GIF not mine!!)

Divination is the practice of seeking knowledge of the future or the unknown through various methods. It’s a way of connecting with your inner wisdom, the universe, or spiritual forces to gain insight and guidance. While some see it as predicting the future, many view it as a tool for introspection and understanding the present.

Why Do We Practice Divination?

Gain Clarity: Divination helps clarify confusing or difficult situations, providing insights that may not be immediately obvious.

Make Decisions: It can assist in making informed decisions by highlighting potential outcomes and factors to consider.

Connect Spiritually: It fosters a deeper connection with your intuition, spiritual guides, or higher self.

Self-Discovery: Divination often reveals inner thoughts and feelings, aiding in personal growth and self-awareness.

Prepare for the Future: While it doesn’t predict the future in absolute terms, divination can highlight trends and energies that might influence future events.

Popular Methods of Divination

Tarot Cards

What It Is: A deck of 78 cards, each with symbolic imagery and meanings, used to gain insights into various aspects of life.

How to Use: Shuffle the deck while focusing on your question, then draw cards and interpret their meanings based on their positions and your intuition.

Oracle Cards

What It Is: Similar to tarot, but typically with fewer cards and more flexible themes, often focusing on specific guidance or affirmations.

How to Use: Shuffle and draw cards as with tarot, focusing on the guidance you seek. The meanings are usually simpler and more direct.

Pendulum Dowsing

What It Is: A weighted object, often a crystal, suspended from a chain or string, used to answer yes/no questions based on its movements.

How to Use: Hold the pendulum steady and ask a question. Observe the direction it swings (e.g., clockwise for yes, counterclockwise for no).

Runes

What It Is: Small stones or pieces of wood inscribed with ancient symbols, each representing different energies or concepts.

How to Use: Draw runes from a bag while focusing on your question, then interpret their meanings and how they relate to your query.

Scrying

What It Is: Gazing into a reflective surface like a crystal ball, mirror, or bowl of water to receive visions or impressions.

How to Use: Sit quietly and gaze into the surface, letting your mind relax and observe any images, shapes, or messages that appear.

Tea Leaf Reading (Tasseography)

What It Is: Interpreting the patterns left by tea leaves in a cup to gain insights.

How to Use: Drink a cup of loose-leaf tea, leaving a small amount of liquid and leaves. Swirl the cup, then look at the patterns formed by the leaves and interpret their meanings.

How to Carry Out Divination Safely

1. Create a sacred space

Prepare Your Area: Ensure your divination space is quiet, clean, and free from distractions. Light a candle or some incense to set a calming atmosphere.

Protective Circle: Consider casting a protective circle or saying a protective prayer to safeguard your energy.

2. Set a Clear Intention

Focus Your Mind: Be clear about what you want to know or explore. State your intention or question aloud or silently before you begin.

3. Ground and Center Yourself

Stay Balanced: Take a few deep breaths, visualize roots growing from your feet into the earth, and feel grounded and centered.

4. Respect the Process

Be Open and Respectful: Approach divination with an open mind and respect for the process. Avoid trying to force specific answers.

5. Interpreting Responsibly

Use Intuition and Logic: Interpret messages using both your intuition and logical thinking. Remember that divination often highlights potentialities, not certainties.

Avoid Scary Predictions: Refrain from making alarming or ominous predictions. Divination should empower and guide, not frighten.

6. Conclude and Close the Session

Thank and Release: Once finished, thank any spiritual guides or energies you’ve called upon. Gently say, “Thank you for your guidance. This session is now closed.”

Put Away Tools: Store your divination tools in a safe and respectful place, and cleanse them occasionally to remove residual energy.

7. Ground Again

Rebalance Your Energy: After the session, ground yourself again by eating a small snack or holding a grounding stone like hematite.

8. Journal Your Insights

Record Your Experience: Write down your question, the divination method used, and the insights gained. This helps track patterns and deepen your understanding over time.

Final Thoughts

Divination is a wonderful practice that can enrich your witchcraft journey and provide valuable insights into your life and the world around you. As you explore different methods, you’ll discover what resonates with you the most and develop your unique approach to seeking wisdom and guidance.

Happy divining! 🌙✨🔮

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uncharismatic-fauna · 3 months ago

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Frolic with the Fire Salamander

The fire salamander (Salamandra salamandra) is a species of salamander native to the deciduous forests of central and southern Europe. They commonly reside near sources of water such as ponds or streams, but can also be found under logs and leaf litter in moist environments.

Fire salamanders are so named for their bright yellow and black coloration, which serves to warn away potential predators. In addition to their unique look, S. salamandra is also noted as the largest salamander species, at up to 25 cm (9.8 in); females are slightly larger than males. The two are otherwise indistinguishable outside the breeding season, when the area around the male's vent swells.

Depending on their region, S. salamandra breed at different times of the year; those in colder climates begin in June or July, while populations in warmer areas mate in October. Males seek out females on land, and after a brief courtship ritual he deposits a packet of sperm for her to pick up. The eggs develop internally throughout the winter, and the female gives birth to 20-75 newly hatched larvae in the following spring. These larvae live in ponds or slow-moving streams for 3-5 months before fully metamorphosing into adults. Individuals can survive for up to 14 years in the wild.

The bright coloration of fire salamanders is a form of aposematism; warning predators of their toxicity. The skin secretes a highly potent toxin, which can also be sprayed directly at potential threats. However, only adults have this ability, so juveniles may be victim to birds, frogs, fish, and mammals like weasels and foxes. S. salamandra in turn consumes mainly insects and invertebrates like earthworms, slugs, larvae, beetles, and centipedes. They do most of their foraging at night, and rarely stray far from their small home territory./

Conservation status: The fire salamander is considered Vulnerable by the IUCN. Their main threat is from the chytrid fungus, which can wipe out entire localities. Populations are also threatened by habitat loss, as they require both pristine waters and dense forests to thrive.

Photos

William Warby

Quentin Martinez

Christian Jansky

#fire salamander #Urodela #Salamandridae #true salamanders #salamanders #amphibians #deciduous forests #deciduous forest amphibians #europe #central europe #southern europe #animal facts #biology #zoology #ecology

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tapwater118 · 5 months ago

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Tap Water Productions Presents:

What’s the Deal With Evil Leafy?

Seriously, what’s her deal? What’s with all the chasing and the people-eating and the potentially-possessions? Where’d she even come from? Am I actually gonna answer any of these questions? Well, keep on reading, dear readers!

Hello, internet! Welcome to BFDI Theory!

A Crash Course in Evil Leafy

Before we can find out what Evil Leafy is, it would help to know where and when Evil Leafy is. Here’s a tabulation of all of Evil Leafy’s canonical appearances:

Evil Leafy’s first appearance is in BFDI 17, where she is one of the 30 recommended characters that could potentially join the show (recommended by MrOrange890). She fails to get enough votes to join, and is summarily sent to the LOL.

Her next “appearance” is in BFDI 25, where Leafy can be seen “turning into” Evil Leafy after Golf Ball accuses her of stealing Dream Island. Strange, but Bubble did briefly turn into Evil Bubble in BFDI 20, so maybe it’s just a visual flair?

Evil Leafy does not receive enough votes to join season two, so in BFDIA 1 she is sent to the LOL with the rest of the rejects. Evidently she escapes at some point, as she appears in BFDIA 2 to chase Book, Ice Cube, and Spongy through the Evil Forest. Book and Icy escape, but Spongy trips, allowing Evil Leafy to “sink into” him.

In BFDIA 3, Spongy is shown no worse for wear as he spits out Evil Leafy. She is quickly frozen by Gelatin, who takes the time to write on her back. She unthaws later as she is seen “sinking into” a frozen Flower in BFDIA 4. Notably, strange dark vines seem to grow out of Flower when this occurs.

Like Spongy, in BFDIA 5a Flower spits out Evil Leafy, again none the worse for wear. Evil Leafy then spends some time chasing Tennis Ball, Golf Ball, and Rocky through the Evil Forest, before consuming them as well as the entirety of FreeSmart.

Evil Leafy serves as the setting for BFDIA 5b, as it is revealed she contains an entire world within her being. Also notable is that the BFDI crew are not her first victims: various other objects can be seen living in this world, all of whom met the same fate as FreeSmart. Lego Brick confirms that there are in fact thousands of recommended characters trapped within Evil Leafy; she’s been quite busy off-screen.

(Most of) FreeSmart escape Evil Leafy in BFDIA 5c, who proceeds to give chase once more. Book and Ruby successfully kill Evil Leafy with a large weight, alongside Puffball and Fries. As TB, GB, and Rocky (as well as Firey and Gelatin) need to be recovered in BFDIA 5d, it can be assumed that they either died within Evil Leafy during 5b, or died when Evil Leafy was crushed. If the latter, it can be assumed that all of the other objects in Evil Leafy die as well.

Evil Leafy takes a leave of absence until BFDIA 6, where Team No-Name accidentally revive her by looking into a leaf-shaped mirror in the ˥IΛƎ Here Hotel. She gives chase to them, during which she phases through a window, causing Tennis Ball to remark that “she’s growing stronger.” Interesting.

As she’s about to catch Team No-Name, she hears Coiny repeatedly saying her name elsewhere in Yoyle City. This gets her to prioritize WOAH Bunch and FreeSmart over the helpless Team-No-Name. As she apparently cannot go underwater, she ends up causing the two teams to see-saw on the dehumidifier for some time.

After fruitlessly chasing WOAH Bunch across the dehumidifier, in BFDIA 7 Firey Speaker Box evidently has enough of her shenanigans and freezes her, causing her to fall into the flooded building. For one reason or another, she is absent when WOAH Bunch drain the building, and she is not seen again for an even longer period of time.

After a four episode absence, she returns in BFDIA 12, and after killing Bomby (note that her sinking into him actually does kill him, unlike the other times she has done this) and being harassed by a bunch of concert-goers, she becomes all buddy-buddy(?) with Pan Flute, and ends up doing her strange vine thing without even sinking into him like with Flower.

In BFDIA 13, Pan Flute decides he is done with Evil Leafy’s shenanigans and duct tapes her to the wall, which apparently is enough to contain her. That is, at least, until Leafy utters the word “Who?” in context of wondering who recovered her. This sound somehow burns away the tape, allowing Evil Leafy to go free.

Throughout BFDIA 14 Evil Leafy chases the contestants across the islands, notably causing her strange vines to grow through the islands. This comes to a head when she chases FreeSmart through the pirate ship, and after Book narrowly escapes being captured, she confronts them one last time while standing on the surface of the water, and Needle crushes her with the ship.

As the rest of BFDIA hasn’t released yet, we don’t know what happens to Evil Leafy during that time. She evidently sticks around, as she can be seen stalking TB and GB in the Science Museum in IDFB 1, though oddly does not give chase unlike her previous appearances.

After IDFB, Evil Leafy is seemingly gone. She never shows up, and none of the characters even mention her. In BFB 6, Diamondcup67 submits her as a recommended character, but even then she doesn’t actually appear; she’s been replaced by a cardboard cutout of herself.

Her sudden disappearance thus begs the question:

What Happened to Evil Leafy?

Unfortunately, it’s all but impossible to tell. Whatever happened happened during IDFB, which is a huge knowledge gap in terms of the timeline. However, I have ideas of things that could be related :

The Desertion of Yoyle City

Strangely, despite calling Yoyle City their new home during BFDIA, the contestants seem to have long abandoned it by BFB 1. Seeing how closely Evil Leafy is tied to BFDIA and Yoyle City (through the ˥IΛƎ Here Hotel), there’s reason to believe she might have something to do with this.

Something to note is that the BFB grasslands are not the same as the BFDI ones, as evidenced by Golf Ball’s Underground Factory; it still has the old grass around the entrance, as she had to move it to this new location. The new grasslands are also seemingly closer to Yoyleland than the old ones, as Yoyle Mountain can pretty much always be seen in the distance, whereas it is never visible in the old grasslands. This could imply that the desertion was hasty, or that there was no way to easily cross the Goiky Canal (or even the Evil Forest).

(Some confusion may arise about these actually being two separate locations, seeing as they’re both referred as Goiky several times, but Goiky could just be the name of the greater location that encompasses both grasslands, and potentially Yoyleland too.)

Also interesting is that Barf Bag is seemingly unfamiliar with Yoyleland; when she is teleported there in TPOT 4, she expresses how Yoyleland is her “lifelong travel destination,” as well as getting excited over getting to see a yoyleberry for the first time. This is very odd, seeing as if IDFB were to continue as purported, Barf Bag would be freed from the LOL at some point and would have had at least some time to explore Yoyleland. Did Yoyle City get abandoned in the middle of IDFB, such that Barf Bag was released from the LOL in the new grasslands?

Everyone’s Okay With Leafy Now

In IDFB 1, Leafy is still an outcast from the rest of the group, still being metal, hiding in the bushes, and throwing knives at people. When we next see her in BFB 1, she’s been accepted back into the fold of the cast, conversing with both newbies and veterans in her usual Leafy way with no objections from anyone (except Firey, but everyone already knows what his issue is). Why the sudden(?) change in group opinion?

Maybe this could be written off as the newbies both outnumbering the veterans and not knowing about the theft of Dream Island (seeing as how Eggy and Lollipop were seemingly completely unaware of the incident, and even Gelatin, a BFDIA veteran, only had cursory knowledge of it). But she still interacts in a cordial manner with a decent amount of season 1 veterans, and any that still have a problem with her have their issue unrelated to Dream Island (again, except for Firey).

Maybe Leafy does something to gain back the group favor? Maybe something related to Evil Leafy? There is an obvious connection between the two, as suggested by BFDIA 13. Is there some encounter between the two that causes Evil Leafy to stop showing up? Is this the reason they move out of Yoyleland? I have an idea that I’ll get to soon, but it’s mostly speculation right now. There are many questions that unfortunately do not have answers right now.

So, that begs the question:

What even is an Evil Leafy?

There are two main aspects of Evil Leafy I want to bring up.

The first is her strange aversion to water. In BFDIA 6, she refuses to chase her prey into the water, even though they are sitting ducks at that point and she clearly prioritizes WOAH Bunch over the much drier Team No-Name. Additionally, in BFDIA 14 we see Evil Leafy standing on top of the water on Teardrop’s island. She absolutely does not want to go into that water.

And honestly, it makes sense why; after she falls into the water in the beginning of BFDIA 7, she isn’t seen until BFDIA 12. A four episode gap! That’s even longer than when she got crushed in BFDIA 5c! For some reason, water is especially dangerous to her, and while she isn’t afraid to go near it, she absolutely will not go in it of her own accord.

(Also worth noting that, as Needle likely submerged Evil Leafy when crushing her with the ship, we might not actually see her for a few episodes. If my theory holds water (heh), she most likely will not be in BFDIA 15. Ah, bugger. I forgot about the stinger where we see her safe and dry inside the ship. My bad. Ignore this paragraph.)

Secondly is how Evil Leafy gains her power. Tennis Ball remarks that Evil Leafy is “getting stronger,” and we don’t just have to take his word for it. Her “sinking into” move goes from being nearly harmless in BFDIA 2 and 4 to directly killing Bomby in BFDIA 12. Also, her strange vines go from needing to sink into someone to grow (BFDIA 4), to just needing to be near someone (BFDIA 12), to being able to grow anywhere regardless of if anyone is present (BFDIA 14).

I think they made it fairly clear where this power is coming from: in BFDIA 13, Leafy is the one who indirectly gives Evil Leafy the strength to burn away the tape and free herself via her confusion at being recovered. This goes back even further; despite likely being free from the LOL for some time during BFDI season 1, Evil Leafy is nowhere to be seen. You know when she does start showing up? When Leafy is exiled to Yoyleland.

Evil Leafy is an Anti-Leafy, the polar opposite of Leafy. Leafy is green, Evil Leafy is red. Leafy has been shown to love water, while Evil Leafy hates it despite (presumably) also being a plant. Leafy loves being nice to people, while Evil Leafy is seemingly built on detest for all she encounters.

Well, you say, Leafy is prone to lashing out at others. Does this mean Evil Leafy can remain docile around others? Yes! In BFDIA 12, Pan Flute treats her with kindness (at least initially), and in turn Evil Leafy does not harm him despite having every faculty to do so. Leafy and Evil Leafy are polar opposites. Two halves of the same coiny.

So, back to my idea I mentioned earlier; we can see that Leafy’s negative feelings apparently give power to Evil Leafy. Heck, even that moment I called strange in BFDI 25 could play into this: the negative emotions Leafy feels in that moment transmitting power to Evil Leafy. So what ultimately causes Evil Leafy to vanish?

If Leafy’s negative emotions give her power, it would only make sense that Leafy’s positive emotions drain that power. When Leafy got accepted back into the cast, I can only imagine she felt elated at that. She’s back with her friends! She can laugh and play and be nice to them just as she could before. Sure, some might still not like her, and she may still get sad and angry at times, but if you ask me I don’t think it can get much worse than “exiled to a distant land for years.”

Maybe she even precipitates the move out from Yoyle City. Yoyleland is a haven of bad memories for her, it would make sense she wouldn’t want to live there. And seeing as she makes some friends with some newbies (or at least gets on their good sides), they may want to follow her, eventually leading to everyone leaving on a “when in Rome” principle.

When Leafy is happy, what does that mean for Evil Leafy? Literally it means that her power is drained and that she cannot continue her reign of terror, but metaphorically it means that Evil Leafy is not necessary anymore. Evil Leafy showed up when Leafy was at her lowest (barring BFDI 16/17, but I’m willing to write that off as a form of Early Installment Weirdness), and she leaves as soon as that low point is over.

So that’s what Evil Leafy is. Even if not physically, at least she represents Leafy’s broken psyche. Leafy is unavailable, Leafy cannot handle the current situation, she remains exiled in Yoyleland. So Evil Leafy, the Anti-Leafy, the antithesis to all things Leafy, steps into the picture. And when Leafy becomes available again, Evil Leafy is gone. Leafy’s sorrow literally imprints itself onto the world, as if reality is saying “Oh, you don’t want Leafy? Then you can have Anti-Leafy instead. See how much better that fares for you.”

and that’s all I really have to say. sorry if this is a bit all over the place, i wrote it over the course of a week and had several new ideas in the meantime, so some rewriting had to be done. And with my luck bfdia 15 is going to instantly disprove all of this, so yeah for that

#bfdi #bfb #bfdia #tpot #bfdi evil leafy #evil leafy bfdi #bfdi leafy #leafy bfdi #ultra yap fest

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