#evergreen symbolism

[hexora]

Winter Associations

Snowflakes: Symbol of uniqueness and individuality, each snowflake is considered magical.

Icicles: Used for spellwork related to clarity and insight.

Winter Solstice: A powerful time for rituals celebrating the return of the sun's energy.

Evergreen Trees: Symbolize life, protection, and continuity during the cold months.

Yule Log: Burned during Yule celebrations for prosperity and protection.

Holly: Represents protection and brings good fortune during winter.

Mistletoe: Used for love spells and protection against negative energy.

Frost: Associated with transformation and purification.

Frozen Lakes: Symbolize stillness and reflection.

Northern Lights: Magical displays in the winter sky, believed to hold spiritual energy.

Wolves: Guardians of winter realms, associated with intuition and instincts.

Candles: Lit for warmth and enlightenment during the dark months.

Hot Cocoa: Used in kitchen witchcraft for comfort and grounding.

Spiced Cider: Associated with abundance and the warmth of hearth and home.

Winter Faeries: Spirits that thrive in the winter, known for mischief and playfulness.

Fur and Wool: Materials associated with warmth and protection.

Citrine Crystals: Linked to the sun's energy, bringing positivity during the dark season.

Winter Animals: Bears, hibernating creatures, and migrating birds symbolize survival and adaptation.

Warming Herbs: Cinnamon, ginger, and cloves for spells related to warmth and protection.

Frosty Windows: Scrying through frost patterns for divination.

Winter Moon: Perform rituals under the light of the cold, bright moon.

Snowy Owl: A symbol of wisdom and magical insight.

Snowball Fight: Playful energy and bonding with nature spirits.

Winter Gardens: Indoor plants associated with winter magic, like poinsettias.

Silver Bells: Used in spells for communication and summoning spirits.

Sleigh Bells: Carries a sense of joy and celebration.

Ice Skating: A ritualistic dance for balance and grace.

Winter Goddesses: Invoke deities like Skadi or Persephone for their winter aspects.

Fir Needle Essential Oil: Used in aromatherapy for grounding and focus.

Frozen Waterfalls: Symbolize the temporary pause in the flow of life.

Snow Hares: Represent transformation and adaptability.

Crystal Snowflakes: Used in rituals for clarity and purification.

Winter Altar Decorations: Incorporate seasonal items like pine cones, acorns, and silver ornaments.

Winter Winds: Believed to carry messages from the spirit world.

Ice Magick: Creating and using ice symbols in spellwork for stability and stillness.

[thejuniorage]

The Christmas tree holds more than ornaments – it holds centuries of tradition and meaning. Join us on a journey through time as we explore the rich history and symbolic significance behind the beloved Christmas tree.

[happyk44]

Hestia, walking in with an oddly-shaped wooden vase: Look what I found! It's so beautiful, who would wanna throw this away?

Zeus: A blind man who recovered his sight? Please. Get it out of here. Pine has no place in this home. It's the wood of poor people and outhouses.

Hestia: You know, Zeus, I live here too, okay? I think that gives me the right to add things that make me a little happier during these perilous times.

Zeus:

Zeus: You're wrong.

[anniteslifine]

minecraft damage sfx

[ailurocide]

Are we doing spoiler plant facts now? Why do the Evergreens exist?

Orange lilies are beautiful flowers that only last a few weeks, but its color and scent are both very striking!

[honey-rye]

Yuletide with the Hamatos

[idkimnotreal]

i am aware i live in a subtropical climate. to me, autumn is just synonym with warmth - cool nights and hot days, sometimes just warm. it is rare for us to see cool or even cold days in autumn.

yet most people have ingrained in their minds the hollywood idea of the four seasons. it is taught to us in schools in southern brazil that our states have four well defined seasons (the three southern brazilian states), because it sets us apart from outer brazil. and it is true that we have four well defined seasons, however, they are not the same as new york city seasons.

so when people hear it’s autumn now they expect it to be cold. i don’t. i just expect to see pristine clear skies because the humidity drops and there is less heat in the air, which equals less water. i expect that even when the sun is at its zenith in the sky, the breeze is still cool and one can find respite in the shade, when in summer the humidity suffocates you with its wet embrace even in the thickest of shades.

autumn to me is like a hangover. it’s like what happens when summer is over (well, duh). it’s a morning headache after the heat of it. it’s eating cold food out of the fridge. it’s sitting on a toilet just after it’s been used by someone else. you know, that feeling, like it doesn’t really belong, like you’re not entirely there. i don’t know. liminal? maybe. it’s a transition - a limbo between two states, between summer and winter. and, on top of that, it’s also our very own autumn, not comparable to autumn anywhere else in the world. it’s its own thing.

autumn has always been my favorite season, at least ever since i’ve had one. it’s the season of possibilities. the euphoria of new year’s and carnival and vacations is over, the heat is finally over, yet the year is still young. and it’s the only season when it’s just going to get cooler and nothing else. there’s an entire winter ahead of us.

i just love the subtropical autumn. and i wish more people knew about it and appreciated it for what it is.

[brianchilton]

The Christmas Tree and Biblical Symbolism of the Evergreen

The Christmas Tree and Biblical Symbolism of the Evergreen

By: Brian G. Chilton, PhD | December 23, 2022 During the Christmas season, many symbols and traditions come under the scrutiny of heresy hunters. One of the most prominent symbols that come under attack is the Christmas tree. Granted, it is true that trees have been used for pagan worship throughout the centuries. Early Germanic peoples used to worship the Oak of Thor. It was later cut down by…

[kareningalls]

Christmas Trees

Why do we have Christmas trees at this time of year? How did this tradition start? In ancient times, before Christianity, many people believed that those plants that remained green during the winter protected them from evil spirits. It was a common belief that the sun was a god who became ill and weak causing cold and dark days to remind them that the sun god would soon be well. In the early…

[shihabaakil3]

AlPHABET STRICKER PACK

shihabaakil3.redbubble.com

[biteofcherry]

Yours to have

Bad Moon Rising Masterlist

Alpha!Ari Levinson x omega female reader

summary: It's the ceremony of your mating with Ari.

warnings: mystical vibes of ancient rituals; a/b/o dynamics; a pinch of exhibitionism; slight breeding kink; primal kink; shifters; shifter!Ari; wolf!Ari; shifter!Reader; no bestiality

word count: 5.4k

Author's Note: This is a tad different take on the usual claiming/biting in the a/b/o universe. The magic is more at play here in forming the mating bond, not the actual biting. As you read, you'll understand what exactly I changed about it and why. Also, a person called godi appears in this piece. The title of godi refers to a priest/ess of old pagan religions, leading mystical rituals (it's mostly Old Norse origin, but here it's simply used as a term to name the pack's sort of priestess).

The little sip of black currant liqueur you took before all the guests gathered in the wide, unfenced backyard didn’t help easing the tempo of your heart rate, as you finally took a step outside. 

The silvery sphere of the full moon rose above the treetops, crowned in a gold and reddish halo as if the goddess herself knew of the special celebration about to take place. 

Both packs were present - or you should say one pack, as now your people were merged into one under the rule of Ari. People stood to the sides, making a wide path for you to cross toward the arch weaved of evergreen branches, where your future mate awaited along with the pack’s godi. 

It was the redhead who stole curious glances your way ever since Ari’s pack started mingling with yours. What you saw at first as some sort of jealousy, because Ari kept his claim on you known right away, relentlessly so, turned out to be mere curiosity. Perhaps also a mystical knowledge, which a godi was supposed to possess. 

Her name was Alara and she was going to lead the ceremony of your mating. 

Times were modern, shifters tended to bind themselves in very human-style weddings, but the Alpha had to honor old traditions. Especially if he chose to mate with an Omega. It was a stereotype as old as time and as such was expected to follow the ancient traditions. 

In the weeks leading to the ceremony you spent some time with Alara, who taught you every step of the ceremony. It wasn't common knowledge, though there were parts of it passed on through generations via spoken tales. Like you were aware of the fact the ceremony had two phases and only a very few, selected shifters would be present for the second part.

The rather primal part. 

Tiredness should weigh on your tense body, since you woke before dawn, but the anticipation and shot of excitement kept you fully energized. The early morning was part of tradition, as well. You walked into the woods with the first rays of sun to gather greens for the wreaths you were going to weave for yourself and your mate. 

Mugwort, chamomile, wild ferns, St. John’s wort and a few twigs of juniper. You wore yours on your head as you slowly crossed through the backyard. In your hands you carried the twin wreath for Ari. 

You were going to crown him with it, as a symbol of you choosing him to be yours. Later, when the second part of the ceremony started, he would take yours off of your head, as a symbol of taking your nonexistent virginity. 

It was laughable, if you were cynically honest. Neither did you choose Ari, not really, nor were you a virgin. Not for a long time. 

Something that Ari didn’t seem to care about. 

Like he didn’t care that you were much older than overly fertile young women he could have chosen from. A small part of you found it quite pleasing, that he didn’t chase after girls half his age, but voiced his interest in you - someone who was merely a few years younger than him. 

You walked barefoot, your simple white dress flowing around your ankles. It was no point in buying an actual, elegant wedding dress, considering you wouldn’t be wearing it for long once you got to the second part of the ceremony. 

You wore no undergarments either. 

You didn’t think Ari’s aware of that fact, but the way his gaze slid up your body as you approached him suggested he might be.

Then his eyes settled on your face and a certain lightness seemed to turn his irises aglow. There was seriousness and respect for the traditions carved onto his handsome face, but his mouth curved at the corners slightly, soothing and encouraging you.

Ari was barefoot, just like you; wearing elegant, linen pants and white shirt that was buttoned only halfway up. 

It was so characteristic of him, you noticed. Over the weeks leading to your mating you’ve had enough opportunities to spend time with Ari - usually not out of your own volition, but because he was crossing into your space and inviting himself over. And most of the time at least two top buttons of his shirts were undone.

You wondered if it was some poor style choice, or if he ran so hot that he needed them unbuttoned.

Those thoughts invited others, more brazen. If he’d walk around the house without a shirt? If he slept naked? Questions you tried to convince yourself you didn’t care for, but which you’d very soon learn the answers to.

You stopped in front of Ari, lifting the wreath in your hands for him to admire. When he bowed his head, you put it on him. A startling flutter to your heart sprinkled warmth through your limbs as you looked at him crowned with a wreath you weaved. 

Lanterns cast amber glow across your bodies as you placed your hands in Ari’s. It was neither their warmth, nor the evening’s sweet dispersing incalescence, but a simmer of heat ignited in your belly when you touched him. 

Ever since he marked you with his cum, feeding you a dollop of it, it seemed your body attuned to his closeness with growing hunger. 

You tried not to imagine how worse it could get once he fully claimed you. 

Alara bound your hands with colorful ribbons; each for a different vow you spoke. Then she lifted an ornamental chalice, filled with sweetly smelling mead and a pinch of herbs. 

With your hands bound, both you and Ari carefully took the chalice. He lifted it to your lips first. Pleasant thickness of it coated your tongue and slid down your throat, leaving a burning sensation that only spurred the fire in your belly. 

In the books regarding mating ceremonies you read about a particular ingredient that used to be added to wine or mead for the bride to drink. According to Alara that hasn’t been done in at least a century and you really hoped she was truthful. It would be really disgusting if you were made to drink Ari’s cum in front of everyone, even if it was only a splash of it. 

Apparently it used to be added to strengthen the bride’s desire for her mate. 

You knew it would work. You still remembered how your body responded to the taste of Ari when he caught you. 

You tipped the chalice slightly when it was Ari’s turn to take a sip; his eyes a glowing blue that seared through you as he held your gaze over the rim. 

With your hands still bound, Ari pulled you forward. He took your mouth in a bold kiss that burned stronger than the rich alcohol you just consumed. Loud cheers resounded around, but were faded compared to the pounding of your own blood rushing through vessels as you melted under the demand of Ari’s lips. 

There was amusement and giggles as you and Ari worked your hands free of the bindings. No scissors or claws could be used to cut through them, you had to work the knots together. Then the bundle of colorful ribbons was placed in a small, carved box. 

You gasped in surprise - the sound dispersing on your palate - when Ari kissed you again. 

Hands completely free, he grabbed you fully, dipping you backwards as his tongue dipped between your lips. The chorus of applause included a few howls. 

You felt a little dizzy (and a lot hot) when Ari pulled back. If not for his arm loosely wrapped around your middle, you may have swayed. Eyes glazed, though you weren’t certain if it was due to the potent mead, or the reality of mating Ari hitting you suddenly; you stared up at him. 

With the spark in his iridescent irises, you sensed he was equally excited for the next part as you were terrified of it. 

But your fear didn’t make you flee; not this time, at least. It was that kind of fear that lured to follow into the darkness and experience the thrill of being consumed. Curiosity and apprehension combined into an addictive kind of sensation. 

Was it why you felt that spark of arousal whenever you ran away and Ari gave chase? 

The first thought making you run could be of rebellion, of trying to free yourself of the Alpha’s clutches. But the chase made it into heady titillation. 

The unknown of the mystical, sacred part of the ceremony spiked that fear, but the aspect of doing it with Ari - whatever raw, dirty act it would be - heated your body in anticipation. 

Alara addressed the gathered people, calling upon them to feast in joy for your union. Then she took one of the lanterns and led a small procession deep into the woods. Five other shifters fell into step behind her - three of Ari’s pack and two of yours. Chosen for their hierarchy in the pack, they were granted great honor to be witnesses to the second part of the ceremony. 

Though you briefly wondered, if Dante wasn’t asked to do it also as some sort of twisted power play. He was a member of your old pack and it seemed Ari respected his knowledge, experience and dedication to protect people. However, there was no doubt Ari would have learned that you and Dante used to date. 

It ended more than three years ago, the two of you remaining somewhat friendly if distanced. But male shifters tended to be extremely possessive. Ari was borderline so. It wouldn’t surprise you if the honor to participate in your ceremony wasn’t also Ari’s way of emasculating Dante in case he harbored any lustful thoughts of you. 

Ari’s fingers intertwined with yours as you followed Alara through the darkness of the woods. The lantern was merely symbolic, as your shifter senses allowed all of you to move through the night quite easily. 

When you reached a wide clearing, the five shifters spread around, taking positions in a spread semi-circle. Alara led you forward to the middle of the meadow where a few items had been prepared in advance. 

“You shall undress each other, so the Moon can bathe  you in her glow,” Alara’s voice was soft and melodic, her lips curved in a gentle smile, but her eyes were sharp and wild. Gold swirls painted on her face seemed to pulse with life.

Breath hitched in your throat when Ari’s hands smoothed along your shoulders, the straps of your dress easily giving in as he pushed them off. Leaning close, he reached behind you and unzipped the short zipper of your dress, then pulled the delicate fabric off your body. 

Trying not to think of being completely naked in front of him - and in front of five other shifters! - you unbuttoned his shirt, one small button after another. Your fingers itched to explore the expanse of Ari’s chest, but you stifled that craving and managed to touch as little of his skin as possible as you pushed the shirt off his shoulders. 

Staring at his chest, you popped the button of his pants open and lowered the zipper. You couldn’t make yourself look Ari into the eyes, fearing to see the heat in them and perhaps a sense of dark, lustful victory. 

It was better not to peek down, too. The glimpse of Ari’s cock you got when he came all over you after he caught you in the woods was enough of torment in the past few weeks; tempting your body into overdrive as you dreamt of it. 

You stepped away from the pile of clothes and faced each other. Heart pounding in your chest, you finally lifted your gaze to Ari’s face. Without Alara’s prompting, as if he knew each step of the ceremony by heart, Ari took off his wreath and placed it at godi’s feet. 

Then he reached for your wreath. In a slow, gentle move, he took it off. 

It was only a symbol, one you previously rolled your eyes at, but the moment Ari’s fingers gripped the green weaves and deprived you of them, a light, pleasant sting pierced your core. 

Your wreath was offered at Alara’s feet as well; the godi served as a conduit of the Moon goddess. 

“Shift.” The command was simple, unyielding enough that you didn’t protest, even though you were surprised by it.

When Alara taught you stages of the ceremony, she didn’t mention letting your wolf out. You hesitated only a few seconds, before you gave in to the pull itching beneath your skin. For a split of a second you got to admire Ari’s wolf with your human eyes, then you were seeing him through your wolf’s. 

You were a streak of silver, light coloring that some of your former partners expressed to be the moonlight itself crushed into fur. Though you weren’t the smallest of wolves, placing yourself as rather average among shifters, you seemed tiny compared to Ari’s wolf. 

Your Alpha was a beast of fairy tales. So big and domineering. His thick fur was a spectrum of bronze, with some streaks glinting gold, some reddish, the tip of his tail as dark as black. 

In that moment it hit you how perfect of a predator he was. As a human you noticed his scent that blended him so easily with the forest - pine and moss and resin. His wolf form blended into the woods even deeper, allowing him to gain the upper hand in any season, any part of the land. 

Ari’s paw dug into soil as he made a move toward you. Something flicked through your hindbrain, or perhaps it was your human side all along, but you suddenly felt the need to bolt. 

To tease him, maybe. Or perhaps you couldn’t suppress that remnant of rebellion against this union.

Your wolf barely managed to turn around and start forward when Ari leaped. The massive wolf crushed you to the ground, your wolf yipping as he trapped you beneath him. Then his jaw locked on your neck, sharp teeth piercing enough to be a warning. 

A shudder rippled through you, your head dropping down in submission. Ari snarled and for a moment you found yourself scrambling to understand what he wanted. But your wolf knew. With another pitiful yip she went lax, surrendering completely. A lick of approval soothed the spot where his fangs nipped you.

Slowly, Ari eased back. You remained in your position, not daring yet to move. Then suddenly a low growl of his reverberated through your bones.

It yanked on that shifter thread inside you, forcing an immediate shift. 

Never before had anything like it happened, it was always your own volition to change into wolf form and back into human. And Ari just proved to you how much power he held. 

Alphas supposedly possessed that ability - to force any shifter into immediate change, but you never saw Dimitri do it to anyone. You didn’t think Ari’s done it to scare you, or belittle you in any way, rather you felt it as his help to guide you into the next step of the ceremony. 

Yet it still elicited a scary realization, how truly he could overpower you. If you ever ran away in your wolf form, he could command your immediate shift into human and gain more advantage. 

Ari gently helped you up onto your feet, having shifted into human form himself. The care and respect he showed contrasted with the display of raw power. 

Your gaze shifted to Alara, a glint of offense at not being prepared for that part of the proceedings. She only smiled as she beckoned the two of you closer.

“The wolf’s submission had to be natural, had to be earned,” she explained. “If I warned you of it, then it could provoke you to either fake it, or fight it just out of spite.”

You wouldn’t tell her that you felt your wolf submit to Ari weeks ago, when he tackled you to the ground after chasing you through the woods. The bitch gave in then. 

Alara picked a bowl filled with sweet scented mixture. Linden honey, cloves, lovage and crushed cranberries for the red color. She lifted it up to the sky, muttering a string of blessings, or spells, or whatever curse. Then she lowered it towards Ari. 

“Under the Moon’s keen eye, brand what’s yours to have.” 

She held the bowl as Ari dipped his hand in the mixture. He marked a spot on your temple first. Then smeared the honey across your mouth. Your lips parted, letting the sweet taste in. And letting a little gasp out when Ari’s hand left streaks of sticky concoction across your breasts.

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Ari’s eyes when he dipped both his hands for more mixture and then splayed one on your ass and his other palm over your abdomen. 

He crouched down to better drive his fingers up the inside of your thigh and then along the juncture in your hip, before ending the sweet swirl in the thatch of your hair right above your softly pulsing clit. 

Each streak he painted on your naked body seemed to seep into your skin and feed to the fire already burning you with need. 

A thought to chase Ari’s fingers with your mouth, to suck them clean so he could slip them into your wet pussy, flashed in your mind. It was Alara’s voice addressing you that stopped you from making a fool of yourself. 

“Under the Moon’s keen eye, brand what’s yours to have.” She tipped the bowl your way. 

Fingers dripping with red stained honey, you reached up to touch Ari’s temple. When you brushed your fingertips across his mouth, you almost pouted in disappointment he didn’t nip at any of your digits. 

Focusing on regulating your breath, so you didn’t pant, you used both of your hands to mark Ari’s huge biceps. Then, just because you were getting needy and annoyed with yourself because of that, you scratched his chest a bit as you smeared the mixture across his pectorals. 

Perhaps you saw it in the way Ari’s eyes darkened, or maybe it was already the bond building between the two of you, but you felt certain that he liked when you scratched him. 

Your eyes followed the line your fingers drew along the thatch of hair leading down Ari’s belly and lower. Scooping more honey from the bowl, you knelt at Ari’s feet and dragged both hands up his muscular legs, until you gripped his ass.

Your breath quickened as you stared at the half-hard cock rising toward Ari’s belly. Slowly, you swiped your hands from the back of his thighs to the front, using all of your melting will to not taste him right away.

Instead, you boldly looked up. Ari’s pupils were blown wide as he stared at you - on your knees, lips inches away from his cock, about to mark it as a part of him for you to have. Holding his gaze, you wrapped your fingers around him. 

If it wasn’t for Ari’s self restraint, you probably would follow the instinct, the hunger tempting you to move your hand and start what would inevitably happen in a few minutes anyway. After all, sex was the culmination of the ceremony. But Ari’s own fingers gently caught your wrist. 

He helped you up. Again that night. 

For as amused as she had to be, Alara didn’t spare you a knowing, mocking look. She put the bowl away and picked another dish. This one a simple terracotta pot, bearing marks of time. 

“For Nature, the Mother of us all,” Alara intoned, “make a pledge to the earth to show your readiness to fall in with the cycle.” 

Ari knelt down and started digging with his bare hands while you filled both hands with seeds and flower bulbs from the terracotta pot. Kneeling on the ground as well, you planted them in the furrow created by Ari. Then both of you covered the seeds with soil, your hands joined as you did so. 

You washed your hands in the bassinet with fresh water that Alara placed beside you. She poured into it what was left of the honey mixture, then dipped a small bouquet of ferns in it and used them to sprinkle the mixture over you and Ari.

“Blessed be this union!” Alara bellowed, hands stretched high toward the night sky. “Moon, our goddess! As you cast your light upon your favored, embrace his mate. Through the eyes of the witnesses gathered here, watch as they seal their claim on each other.”

Arms slowly dropping, Alara stared at you as she took a few steps backwards. Silence stretched in tense anticipation. 

It dawned on you then. That was the most important part. The culmination.

And there were people around, about to witness your coupling. 

Ari’s hand cupped your chin, preventing you from looking anywhere else but him. No one else should matter now. No other shifter, no woodland creature, nor the stars peppering the sky. There was only your mate. 

He tilted your head back slightly and leaned in. Tip of Ari’s tongue flicked against your bottom lip, licking off the sweetness. Lips trailed sticky kisses across your cheek, until his breath tickled the shell of your ear.

“You’re ready, little Omega,” he purred, slipping a hand between your thighs. 

At the bold touch of his fingers spreading your slick folds, your hands flew to Ari’s shoulders. Fingernails of your right hand needled his skin, while you gripped a fistful of his hair with the other. 

“You’re already mine,” he sounded more than pleased; he sounded drunk on victory after months of chase. “But I’ll pound it into your tight pussy, so you feel that bond with every step.” 

He growled in satisfaction as you moaned, rocking your hips into his hand. He stretched you with a firm stroke of his fingers, driving in two at once and pressing the heel of his palm into your clit. 

Gripping the back of your neck with his other hand, Ari kept pumping his fingers and curling them until your juices were spilling over his palm. 

“Ask me!” He demanded, licking off more of the honey around your mouth. 

“Alpha,” your voice was raspy and breathy, “fuck me! Knot me. Claim me!” 

It was only your heart soaring and fluttering like a hummingbird trapped in grip, though it felt as if the earth itself shuddered beneath you from the force and heat of Ari’s kiss. 

Perhaps there were more potent, illegal roots added to the mead Alara made you drink earlier, or to the honey mixture that soaked your bodies. Or maybe it was the vowed bond that grew taut and intense in its demand to be fulfilled in the most primal way.

Whatever spurred it, made you desperate. Needy. Your mouth opened pliant to Ari’s, ready to swallow whatever he fed you, ready to offer pleasure in return. Your hands roamed over his body; touching and squeezing and scratching. 

When he eased his fingers out of your fluttering cunt, you almost whined in protest. But then he was gripping your hips and flipping you onto your hands and knees. 

Your hindbrain took over, the wolf bitch coming to the surface just beneath your human skin. But it wasn’t only the wolf side that craved the warmth of Ari’s thighs pressing against the back of yours. Your human side wanted it to. The woman who resisted his claim was eager to bend forward and offer herself. 

One of Ari’s big hands gripped your hip, the other moved between your bodies to guid the tip of his cock into your entrance. 

With a broad lick up your spine, Ari laid his weight above you. He nipped the nape of your neck, more playful than he did in his wolf form, and you instinctively followed the unspoken command. You stretched your arms forward and dipped your upper body low, cheek pressed to the ground. 

“Good little Omega,” Ari purred, kissing your neck. 

A loud cry spilled from your lips, resounding through the clearing, maybe through the whole forest, when Ari sheathed himself inside you in one stroke. 

He paused. To relish in the feeling, or to give you a moment to adjust - if it was the latter, you didn’t think it would help. Ari wasn’t some monstrous beast to have a dick you couldn’t take. It was impressive, but in very reasonable size. And yet, something about it made you quiver in fear (and excitement) of being split in half. 

The first languid thrusts drew moans from both of you. Ari drove deep on each push, forcing your pussy to give up completely and nudging your cervix on a few passes. Then his pace increased, his filled heavy sack slapping against your clit. 

Rough fingers dug into your hip, undoubtedly leaving bruises that would bloom later. His other hand roamed below your body, squeezing your breasts, teasing your belly. Ari’s mouth was in constant movement along your neck and shoulders: kissing and licking, teeth grazing your skin in a prelude to the bite. 

You pushed up against him eagerly; the embarrassment at the sound of the skin slapping and wetness squelching on each thrust burned away. You didn’t care! Didn’t care who watched, or how loud you were, how you dripped. There was only need for more of Ari; need for him to help you chase that release you’ve been yearning for since your lips touched his. 

Fingers gouging the soil, you keened when on the next thrust Ari’s cock grazed a spot that instantly had you clenching around him. 

He groaned; the sound deep and low, sinking into your skin where Ari’s mouth hovered on your shoulder. 

Your pussy pulsed, tightening around his dick, and he only made things worse still fucking into you relentlessly; prolonging the madness of your fizzing pleasure and tipping you into another climax. 

Your scream rose as the blinding aftershocks of your orgasm were joined by the pain-and-pleasure shot of Ari’s teeth piercing your skin. 

He bit into the crook of your neck, his jaw locked mercilessly as he drew blood and mauled your skin. Few seconds later Ari gurgled his growl of pleasure with a mouthful of your blood, as he bottomed out inside your quivering cunt and his knot inflated. 

Another tremor rocked you, albeit softer, but stretching into infinity. A simmering orgasm that seemed to go on and on and on as spurts of thick cum filled you. As if each splash of Ari’s spend instigated a tiny climax. 

Harmonized howls resounded in the night, for the first time reminding you of the audience you had. The five chosen shifters who had to change their form into wolves at some point, though you didn’t even register when. 

You stayed locked with Ari for long minutes, your labored breaths synchronizing. Ari’s teeth retracted, his tongue soothing the wound. 

You’d be wearing that scar for months. Many more would be added, you suspected. Due to his possessiveness, or his primal nature so close to the surface, but you were certain Ari would be biting you every time he fucked you. He was going to leave marks of possession so visible other shifters would instantly drop their gaze upon catching a sight of them. 

Only you would be wearing the bite. While mates tended to exchange bites, so each was marked as claimed, an Alpha couldn’t be bitten. Not even by his mate. 

For an Alpha a bite meant a loss of status, a chink in his power; it would be a sign of weakness and submission. Traits an Alpha couldn’t display.

But there were other ways a mate could mark an Alpha. Which is why you felt that need to scratch him from the beginning. To rake your nails down his back and over his chest, leaving deep red lines of your own possession. 

Still a little breathless, you reached one of your dirty hands behind you. Prickling Ari’s neck with your nails, you turned your head enough to kiss him. 

Slowly, Ari pulled back and moved your body along with him. You rose onto your hands and knees. Knot almost deflated, he withdrew from you inch by inch. Copious amount of fluid spilled out of you; a glistening mixture of your slick and Ari’s cum. 

It splashed onto the soil in thick drops; right over the seeds you planted earlier. 

With his arm across your front, Ari helped you up into a sitting position, serving for you as his recliner. Your head rested against his shoulder as he kept you spread; kept you exposed so the Moon and the others could see you dripping down. 

Alara knelt at your side, bowing her forehead almost to the ground then lifting it. She placed her right hand on top of Ari’s where it rested low on your belly.   

“As your essence has fertilized the seeds in the soil, may the Moon’s glow bless your fruitful coupling.”

Her hand didn’t linger, but Ari’s stayed splayed on your abdomen as Alara scooted back. You didn’t roll your eyes at the obvious eagerness to get you pregnant (both from Ari and the pack’s godi) only because you were still quite overwhelmed with the intensity of the whole ceremony. 

Also because there was still need thrumming in your pulse.

Alara signaled the other shifters and they approached in a practiced formation, back in their human forms. They each picked the dishes that were used in the ceremony, then followed Alara out of the clearing. 

You and Ari were left alone. 

His hand stayed on your belly, the other sliding up between your breasts, fingers curling around the front of your neck. Ari trailed small, soft kisses along your shoulder, then scraped your jaw with his teeth.

“This is what I imagined from the moment my eyes set on you for the first time,” he confessed, the undertone of pure satisfaction clear in his voice. 

“You wore a crown of flowers for the festivities and I knew I’d be taking off your bridal wreath and locking you on my knot.”

A tremor blew goosebumps on your skin. That very first evening you sensed trouble from catching the attention of an Alpha, but then you didn’t yet know how severe his determination was. He’d chase you to the end of the world to claim you. 

You twisted in his arms, facing him and climbing into his lap. You cupped Ari’s face, smudging dirt over his cheeks. You could’ve held onto your resentment and rebellion, making the whole experience and nearest future a very miserable for you both. Somehow, you couldn’t make yourself do that. Not even that morning, when fleeting thoughts of giving a last run crossed your mind. 

You were Ari’s now. As he was yours. 

He’s shown you over the weeks that he’s ready to build this relationship with you. If the way he led the pack was any indication of how he’d be as a mate, you had a chance of creating something indestructible. 

“And now you have me.” You rolled your hips, enjoying the twitch of his cock against your thigh. “Are you going to gloat?”

“A little bit,” Ari shrugged, flashing you a sexy grin. 

“Mostly-” he palmed your ass and pulled your hips upward- “I’m going to worship you.”

He dropped you down onto his cock, hissing in pleasure as your heat enveloped him again. Your small moan at the stretch made his eyes ignite. 

“Come, little Omega,” Ari laid down on his back and you braced your hands against his chest as you sank fully onto his cock. “Take me. Take your mate.” 

Ari groaned as your nails drew more lines across his body, leaving pink trails that would gain in color in a few hours. 

With his hands squeezing your ass, he urged you down as he thrust up into you. Your nails needled deeper, giving him a meek reflection of the sting you felt each time he bottomed out. When he knotted you again, you’d undoubtedly draw blood. 

Then he’d sink his teeth into you again, stating his undisputed dominance even as he allowed you to claw him.

Your wolf growled her pleasure at the prospect. 

[bed-of-ashes]

sighs. sorry if any of this has been done before but im literally going to school for botany and im a literature analysis nerd so. here we go

I personally find it really fascinating Ivory is mistaken as "Ivy" and she has to redirect people away from that. Aside from being an interesting way to introduce a character, there's symbolism potential here. Take it with a grain of salt because obviously, it's a Jonathan Sims situation, it's the creator's name. However. Ivy is a plant, a living organism, and that automatically means a lot more considering this is The Plant Themed Horror Minecraft. Ivory, meanwhile, is . . . dead. It's dead biotic material from an animal. It's prized for its rarity, making it a symbol of wealth if you possess it. Interesting for a servant

Ivy on the other hand is common and well known, fairly easy to obtain. This basically just says that Ivory is far more than meets the eye to the other serving staff

(it's also the name for all those super fancy colleges. You know the ones. Minutes later Clownpierce is informed that Ivory might be "stunted"—she is not an ivy.)

Also I just think it's funny that the head butler assumes she has a plant name because he's so used to the Hemlockes lol

Speaking of hemlock I'm sure this has already been noticed but symptoms of hemlock poisoning include vomiting and restlessness. Pyro didn't seem unsettled by it at all, however. All he does is ask for coffee. A common "settle your stomach and wake up" remedy, but also really great at erasing scents. Wonder if they're being poisoned by someone else or doing it on purpose

White pines being a symbol of peace tho is insane because god it is not peaceful here

hemlock is the name of an evergreen tree as well, named after the poisonous plant. Notable other evergreens mentioned include ivy and white pines.

the symbolism of evergreens is kinda in the name but yeah, longevity and resilience are kinda the keystones here. a little ironic but hey

[violetmoondaughter]

Many are the faces of the Hellenic God Dionysus, but the duality of his nature is sometimes connected with two specific plants associated to the god. Dionysus relates to many plants such as Fig, Oak, Pine, Vine and Ivy, these two are specifically connected with two opposite faces of the god. 

Grapevine starts its annual growth cycle in spring with bud break. During spring and summer, the plant grows and after flowering the vine sets the fruits that are usually harvested in early autumn. Following the first frost the leaves begin to fall as the vine starts to enter its winter dormancy period. The following spring, the cycle begins again. Following the same annual cycle Dionysus is seen as a god that is reborn every spring, bringing during the hot season prosperity and abundance before disappearing in winter. Grapevine grows thanks to the hot weather and humidity and so it represents the warm fertilizing humidity power of the god. Grape is used to create wine which is the drink sacred to Dionysus because of its ability to release mental faculties.  

Ivy on the other hand, blossoms in the autumn when the vines are harvested and bears fruit in the spring. As an evergreen plant, ivy needs cold weather and humidity to grow and flower.  Ivy vines crawl as snakes and in the myth, ivy appeared soon after the birth of Dionysus to shelter the child from the flames that burned the mother's body. To its freshness was attributed the virtue of dispelling the ardor of wine, so Dionysus was believed to have commanded his worshippers to crown themselves with it. Ivy, in contrast to the vine that bore fruit bearing vitality and exaltation, produced a poison that sterilized and had medicinal virtues that were refreshingly depurative and narcotic. The plant is also connected with thunder and lightning and was believed to have the power to protect from lightning and cure sore throat and cough. 

Thus these two plants sacred to Dionysus are contrasted with each other in an eloquent contrast: the vine, drunk with light, is a child of heat and returns the rays of the sun by warming, with its libation, bodies and souls, while the ivy shows itself to be cold in nature; indeed the sterility and uselessness of its first sprouts recall night and death. 

Their affinity is rooted in the very essence of the dual-figured god, whose nature is expressed from the earth by means of them: light and darkness, warmth and coldness, intoxication of life and breath of death that withers everything; the multiplicity of the Dionysian aspects struggling with each other and yet conjoined with each other is manifested here in vegetal form, stands in struggle with itself and prodigiously transitions from one form into the other. 

Dionysus rules over all moist and hot creatures whose symbol would also be wine, as a hot and moist substance. In wine, heat is made ardor drink of fire that overwhelms everything, that ignites the soul and the body. But the moist heat is contrasted with the moist cold that as a Dionysian element, is manifested in ivy, a plant that greens even in winter when the Dionysian festivals take place.

[crustaceousfaggot]

So I've been thinking a lot about the setting of Disco Elysium. Specifically it being set in late winter/early spring. It's not something I've really seen anyone else bring up.

I mean, the symbolism seems pretty obvious right? Spring is the time of new beginnings, winter is ending and we're entering a time of potential and rebirth. Definitely nothing new. But I think it goes beyond that.

I live in one of the coldest major cities in the world. Not *the* coldest, but you'll be hard-pressed to find a city with over 1,000,000 inhabitants that gets colder than it gets here. Winters are long and brutal and difficult, and when the soil itself is frozen and covered in a foot of packed snow it's really hard to believe that the world could look any other way.

And don't get me wrong, winter is beautiful. The world is quiet and picturesque. There's none of the usual dirt and debris in the streets because it's all buried under the snow. The way that fresh snow sparkles under street lights at night is one of the most breathtakingly gorgeous things I've ever seen.

It's early April right now, and the snow is melting. It's not all gone, but it's getting there. When the air starts to warm up there's this feeling of excitement and anticipation in the air. Spring is here, and any second now the world will be bursting with new life and beautiful greenery.

But it's not. Not yet.

For about a month and a half after the snow starts to melt, the world is grey. No glittering snow, no budding flowers, no swirling red leaves, just puddles of brown water and lawns of brown grass. It's like winter had ended, but the world has yet to realize that it's supposed to be spring. Until it remembers, we're all trapped in a world where there is no season at all.

Sometimes it snows, but the snow never sticks around. Sometimes it rains, but the rain never brings flowers in its wake.

That last month of winter, that first month of spring, whatever you want to call it, is my least favourite time of year. I heard it described once as "the long-preserved corpse of autumn, finally allowed to rot", and that phrase stuck with me. There are eight month old leaves on the ground, skeletal and bleached grey by a winter trapped under the ice. Without the snow to cover it, you can't ignore just how much we've let our city go to shit. The trees are bare and skeletal, and even the evergreens look washed out and grey when they're not contrasted against the snow. Most of the birds aren't back yet, so the only sound outside my window is the ever-present hum of traffic.

It's impossible to ignore the movement and the sounds of humanity, but at the same time the world has never felt so stagnant.

I think there are all sorts of comparisons you could draw here, some of which hold up better than others. The one that first comes to mind for me is sobriety- the line "Full recovery will take years, though. It’ll be depressing. And it’ll be boring. Don’t expect any further rewards or handclaps." from the "Waste Land Of Reality"o thought is one which really stuck with me on my first playthrough, and one which feels especially appropriate here. But that's just one angle.

How much of this was intentional? I don't know. Probably not most of it. Part of me just wanted to go on a little tangent about the seasonal purgatory I'm trapped in once again. But I genuinely don't think there could be a better time of year to set a game like Disco Elysium. That bleak dusty shoulder season, where all the ugliest and most honest parts of nature and civilization are on display. The time of year where I've gone through the ringer and come out the other side, but everything still looks and feels like shit. It's just a different kind of shit.

Spring isn't here. Not yet. And when it does come, it won't fix anything. There will still be garbage on the ground and pollution in the air, there will still be class inequality and senseless violence and I will still be mentally ill.

But still.

For the first time in months, I can feel the wind against my skin without it hurting.

Whatever that's worth.

[emilybeemartin]

I have three more designs to go with Boromir's "The Captain's Kit" design! Behold:

The King's Kit

Aragorn's design features Anduril, the Evenstar jewel, the Elessar elfstone (just to pull the books in), the ring of Barahir, the crown of Gondor, and his ranger's gloves and pipe, surrounded by athelas flowers (props to @erynalasse for suggesting athelas!). I know his crown isn't really part of his "kit," but like I said in my previous post, he's basically just Dirty Wild Man with Boromir's Vambraces until he gets Anduril.

The Marshal's Kit

Eomer's design features his helmet, shoulder guard, breastplate, decorative buckle, and sword, surrounded by simbelmyne flowers. Side note: Eomer's armor is THE prettiest of anybody's by far, it's sooooo gorgeous.

The Prince's Kit

Legolas' design features his bone-handled knives, soft boots, bow and quiver, and a seagull feather, surrounded by forest leaves. I kept wanting to add symbolism that I've developed over the years in fic (I always associate Legolas with mountain laurel leaves and flowers, as a woodland evergreen re: "greenleaf," and I often give him antler-bone jewelry and a seal ring) but I made myself stick to book/movie imagery.

You can get these, and Boromir's design, on t-shirts, journals, pillows, transparent stickers, and as prints. If you'd like to see them on other merch, just let me know. Also let me know if there are issues with various items; I'm still not entirely sure how Redbubble handles it's clothing categories, so if you want it on a specific type of shirt and it's not showing up, I'll try to fix it.

Emily B. Martin on Redbubble>

[meiieiri]

LATE NIGHT SNIPPETS [FT. JUJUTSU KAISEN]

❁—CHARACTERS: suguru geto, gojo satoru, nanami kento, megumi fushiguro

warnings: mentions of death and violence in megumi’s part ( T ^ T )

a/n: now this one got so bad it took me two days to write. ALSO, have ya’ll seen the new episode? WASN’T IT SO GOOD? like the symbolisms and the many artistic references to buddhism and enlightenment was just so GLORIOUS??? and yea, my heart hurts knowing what’s about to come. anyway so much for that. here are some new drabbles to keep us relatively happy in the meantime, prompts are open, btw!

༊*·˚ GOJO SATORU

you think it's charming to see satoru try. he's not as half-assed as people think he is when it comes to devoting his time and effort to the things close to his heart. and for better or for worse, that included you.

his hands gently rakes a hand through your hair, your back pressed to his broad chest. he stops every now and then to untangle the unruly bits with the wide-toothed comb he held between his lips as he painstakingly lathered your locks with the new shampoo he just bought for you, the same one you’ve been eyeing whenever the two of you are out on your supermarket runs.

he treats the entire affair of doting on you, bathing together, as if he were perfecting an art form, and he — a mere blushing apprentice — utterly lost and in ruin in the presence of his ethereal muse. his head drops against your shoulder where a loving kiss makes a picture perfect landing that not even the most proficient trapeze artists can achieve. he cradles you close to his naked form but there was nothing overtly lustful about the entire affair (which is unlike the both of you, by the way, satoru was normally insatiable when it comes to his sexual desires).

there was only an intimate quiet — the kind of passing moment devoid of any unnecessary words and contemplations of love or adoration because there was no need for such futile philosophical bullshit when faced with an absolute truth that needs no explaining, no theorizing, no rationalizing for satoru knew, that in this horrible world riddled with lies, his love for you extends into the limitless void.

“i love you,” he mumbles sleepily into your ear, his eyelids drooping, his breath becoming more even by the second owed to the comforting warmth of the water in the bathtub.

it doesn’t hurt to say it every now and then, though.

༊*·˚ NANAMI KENTO

the warm ambient light of the overhead lamps above you illuminates the dark space of your living room, revealing the adonis-like features of kento, the shadows only seem to accentuate the contours of his defined cheekbones, the slight outline of his perfectly-shaped lips and his masculine jaw. you don’t know how you could have caught the eye of someone so beautiful, so…otherworldly.

he was like a monarch butterfly, a warm ball of fire that danced in an evergreen meadow, so guarded and scarce in his movements in fear that he’d burn the entire valley down with just a subtle flutter of his wings. but since you so desired to burn into cinders, who was he to deny your wishes? a yelp of half-surprise and sheepish laughter slips out from your lips when he suddenly sends you into a romantic dip, catching you by surprise, your heart racing in your chest.

“kento!” you lightly slap him on the arm which only causes him to throw his head back in delighted laughter.

and to the sound of the piano’s crescendo, and the singer’s luscious alto tone, he picks you back up, righting your positions, leading you in a slow dance. he sways both your forms side to side, sometimes hoisting his arm up to allow you enough space to innocently twirl around in time to the climax of the song playing on the vinyl player and in time to the sound of his heart breaking.

oh, how he desperately depended on you and you don’t even know it.

you wouldn’t even understand it if he articulated just how mystified he was to hold your smaller hand in his larger hand, to walk beside you for a thousand miles and not even feel an ounce of fatigue, to naively dance with you like this barefoot in the kitchen at two in the morning, to be able to call you his and him yours.

the song nears its end, the bell-like notes dissipating into the air. you try to pull away, suddenly remembering the dirty dishes from dinner earlier which you so carelessly abandoned in the sink but kento only tilts your chin towards him, his breath hot against your lips, “i’ll do the dishes later. dance with me again?”

༊*·˚ GETO SUGURU

a snort of laughter escapes suguru upon hearing the latest gossip you caught wind of in the teacher’s lounge earlier today . “so, i take it kento has a girlfriend now,” his eyelids flutter close when your dainty fingers lightly massage his forehead with a cool moisturizing balm that smelled absolutely divine with the earthy undertones of tea tree balm and aloe vera.

“engaged, at least that’s what shoko told me,” you correct him and he scrunches his nose in displeasure. you smooth away any of his stray bangs, and the soothing action causes him to sigh contentedly, basking in your butterfly-like touch.

to suguru, this was home — spending the midnight hours braiding one another’s hair, chatting away about anything and everything with your silly little skincare masks on, the humidifier in your room in its maximum settings spewing out the comforting aroma of yours or suguru’s favorite essential oil depending on who wins your little match of rock-paper-scissors, chaste kisses and most of all, you. “what are you staring at?” you ask, breathless, when you notice how his raven eyes stared up at you with so much wonder.

his hand lazily comes up to cup your cheek, memorizing each crack and bump of you as if tonight would be the last time he could ever do so. maybe he was selfish — as many mortals are — to want to beg the gods for time and the stars to stop turning, halting their perpetual orbit, so that he may savor this moment just for a while longer. and a while longer. and a while longer. ‘till eternity herself, in her humiliation, feels cheated.

“my entire world.”

༊*·˚ FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

you were woken up by his shikigami, the arctic dog wagging its tail excitedly as it tries to climb up your bed. you blink away the remnants of your slumber, yawning. “what are you doing here, cutie? where’s your dad?” you affectionately pat the creature on the head and it lets out a happy bark, leaning into your touch. wait a second. if the shikigami had appeared, then, megumi must surely be up and about somewhere in the house. you pull on your silk robe to go look for him when you find only moonlight on his side of the bed.

you eventually find yourself in the living room’s main balcony which functioned as a sun room of sorts. you find megumi hunched over, watering can in hand, seemingly in a daze, he diligently waters the many potted plants you’ve collected over the years. you shake your head, beguiled at the sight, leaning against the glass door.

“your orchids were starting to wilt,” he replies when he senses your presence, a touch of sadness in his voice. he’d gotten you those orchids for your anniversary as the two of you were on your way home from a backbreaking mission in shizuoka. he’d been horrified to see it practically wasting away in the scorching summer heat. “…i…i had to do something,” he swallows thickly, a few tears pooling at the crescent of his green orbs.

you instantly understand. you walk over to him, hugging him from behind as he works. his breath stutters, his grip on the watering can slackening. it falls to the ground in an unceremonious clang! something uncoils within megumi and right then and there…he weeps, falling into the sanctuary of your arms, his tears staining the fabric of your robe, glistening like the most precious of jewels serendipitously unearthed in the forgotten mineshaft that is his heart. “shhh,” you hush him as he continues to cry.

he could have saved that little girl.

if only he’d been faster. if only he didn’t freeze up in front of that curse. if only he hadn’t been his usual second-rate mediocre self even for just a second, maybe she would have lived. “what if it had been you?” his ivy green eyes are filled with abject fear. “what if—?”

“—then, you’ll come get me,” you reply without a second thought, your voice as soft as a spring night’s dewfall, your hand comfortingly raking through his disshelved raven hair. “i know you will.”