#false bird of paradise

[jemichiart]

Saimiris, also known as Squirrel Monkeys, are really small monkeys that live in the rainforest canopy of South America. Here, I drew one accompanied by a White-necked Jacobin, checking a Heliconia plant for a sip of water or a tasty treat. This artwork is dedicated to a teacher that I encountered in a train by chance. She was very enthusiastic about monkeys, so that inspired me to paint this little guy. If you see this, this is for you! I should draw more monkeys, they are a lot of fun. ^^ This is also available as a print on: https://www.inprnt.com/gallery/jemichi/saimiri-and-jacobin/

[paulpingminho]

[faguscarolinensis]

Heliconia rostrata / Hanging Lobster Claw at the Denver Botanic Gardens in Denver, CO

[clairity-org]

Missouri Botanical Garden 9/26/23 by Sharon Mollerus

[helluvatimes]

False Bird

Heliconia schiedeanaor False Bird of Paradise after a downpour. Photo credit: Jonathan Chua.

In the original capture, the background was actually brighter than this. That has been ‘burned’ and darkened in post to accentuate the raindrops. The image has also been cropped to move the heliconia flush against the right edge.

[papillondusublime]

La poétesse et l'oiseau doré (partie 10, c'est la fin je vous jure haha)

Ainsi parla grand-père : "Tourne le dos au genre humain, Avant que tes éclairs Se perdent dans un obscur coin.

Avant que la tristesse Alourdisse bras et paupières, Refuse les caresses Précédant les départs amers.

De faux espoirs, arrose Le cœur bleu de ta dulcinée. Que dans son sein reposent Ruisseaux de défuntes années.

Auprès de ces eaux claires, Là où sa face elle contemple, Promesses mensongères Sont arbres verts qui l’hiver tremblent.

Pour son front éraflé, Ils servent d’ombre protectrice. Du vent prêt à gifler L’abritent feuilles de jadis.

La vue des pommes d’or Pour rester en vie lui suffit. Ses soutenus efforts Donnent foi en guise de fruits.

Qu’importe si s’immiscent Dans sa bouche arrière-goûts fades, Tant qu’aux futurs délices Jamais elle ne devient froide!

Sois marchand d’illusions : Vends-lui des trésors éternels. Y croire sans raison D’enfers fait paradis sans ciel.

Tant que la longue attente En elle plante images vives, Tu seras, sans descente, Présent au bord des mêmes rives!"

Ainsi, reine sans trône, Je rejoins la nuit aveuglante. Suis-je idole ou icône? Demande aux vagues déferlantes.

À toi qui m’es fidèle, Je veux offrir mes dorées plumes. Colle-les à tes ailes Pour t’écraser comme l’écume. »

-Poésie: extrait de "La poétesse et l'oiseau doré", à lire dans "Genèse d'une femme" par Marine Mariposa, disponible gratuitement sur https://sites.google.com/view/papillondusublime/gen%C3%A8se-dune-femme -Image: ''Satan in his Original Glory'', William Blake

[sanarsi]

Gardens of Eden

Din Djarin x goddess!f!Reader

Summary: Another bounty hunt goes wrong when he comes across a creature whose influence changes his view of everything. Warnings: +18, MDNI, mention of using weapon, goddess!immortal!reader, reader has long hair which can change colour (you will understand), sub!Din (by reader’s power), unprotected PIV, loving sex, soft!dom!Din, creampie Wordcount: 3,4k An: First shot with my fav Pedro boy. For a long time I resisted writing something with him because I thought it had to be perfect. Din is my first love, that's why he and my fav band together create a mind-blowing mix for me. Sooo hold my beer bc I’m just getting started ;) Music I worked with: Take Me Back To Eden - Sleep Token

Masterlist

He had never been in a place like this, a planet full of greenery and colorful flowers like something out of a story about what paradise could look like.

As a bounty hunter, he had been in places that were more look like hell. It was rare for his bounties to be in places like this. The energy that reigned around made it easy to fall into a sense of security, but he knew better than to allow himself to have false feelings.

The transmitter in his hand flashed more frequently, assuring him that he was well on the way to target. His finger rested on the blaster trigger, ready to disarm his opponent if necessary.

His careful steps prevented the slightest sound, giving him the opportunity to create a surprise effect. The quiet chirping of birds echoed in the background, and wild animals fled in panic, sensing danger.

Everything here seemed peaceful, unlike what was happening elsewhere in the galaxy. The dense forest barely let in the rays of the three suns shining high in the sky, yet everything was bright.

The tracker blinked harder, catching his attention, the red light letting him know that his target was within reach.

He looked ahead, putting the device in his pocket and took a few cautious steps before he spotted a clearing ending the forest border.

The birdsong was drowned out by the increasingly distinct sounds of running water. He stopped behind one of the trees and slowly began to look around the exposed area. With the trigger of his blaster, he moved a few leaves blocking his view and then his gaze fell on you.

You were sitting on a large rock by the stream, giggling as you dipped your hand in the water. Your long white hair blindingly reflected the sun's rays and the translucent white material of your dress flowed down your body.

You looked like a living example of innocence.

Din couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way you gracefully moved your fingers across the surface of the water, sitting completely unaware of the threat that he was.

A gentle smile adorned your face, adding to your charm, and he had to admit that he hadn’t seen such a beautiful sight in a long time.

He had seen a lot in his life but he had never experienced such conflicting emotions as you had stirred in him. He knew very well that appearances were deceptive and you could have turned out to be the worst thing he had to fight so far but he simply couldn’t…

He couldn’t shake this strange feeling that he had stumbled upon something beautiful, innocent and flawlessly good. As if some greater power was letting him know that he even shouldn’t have aimed a gun at you.

He stepped forward to get a better view of you, but as it turned out, it was a bad decision.

A dry branch snapped under his weight, piercing the space like a shot. Everything around fell silent as you straightened like a string and looked in his direction. His heart stopped for a moment as he looked into your eyes and saw fear in them.

He cursed himself in mind and slowly walked out from behind the trees, spreading his arms to show that he meant no harm.

Unfortunately, your reaction was the opposite of what he wanted to achieve.

Your hair changed color from shiny white to blacker than the forgotten ends of space in a second. He watched this in shock, slowly approaching you and to his surprise, you didn’t move an inch.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, and to confirm his words, he slowly put the blaster behind his belt. You didnkt even notice, continuing to stare into his black visor, and even though he was wearing a helmet and thick armor, he felt naked under your gaze. “Please,” he added more gently.

His words didn’t work.

The blackness of your hair seemed to only deepen with each step he took. He didn’t know where the feeling of desperation had come from in his body, for you to trust, that he didn’t have bad intentions towards you; or at least not anymore. And it was this desperation that made him fall to his knees a few steps away from you.

Surprisingly, it did just that, your hair lightened a few shades, matching the greynes of his beskar. Your watchful gaze began to examine every inch of his body as if you were assessing the threat he posed to you.

“You’re a bounty hunter,” you noted.

Your voice didn’t match your appearance at all, sharp and commanding, as if you had lived much more than he had. As if you had lived centuries.

“I am,” he confirmed, feeling deep in his bones that trying to deceive you was purposeful. His honesty made your hair lighten a bit and your eyes filled with interest.

“And yet, you don’t want to hurt me.” You raised an eyebrow, wanting to let him know how absurd his words sounded.

“I don’t,” he replied without a moment’s hesitation.

He didnkt know if it surprised you or him more, after all, he had come here for one purpose and he had the impression that you knew it very well.

His answers were short and honest, giving a sense of sincerity but even that didn’t seem to convince you.

“So why are you in full armor and armed?” you asked even though you knew the answer. This wasn’t the first bounty hunter or even Mandalorian with whom you had the pleasure to dealt with.

“It’s part of my culture.”

Yes, you’ve heard that answer before.

“Indeed,” you nodded thoughtfully, your gaze dropping to the shiny beskar again. You had never seen a hunter who looked as majestic as he did, which made you interested in him even more.

Din watched as you finally flinched to look at him from a different perspective, your hair getting closer to its original color with every passing second.

“I can’t trust you.”

Your gaze met his again as if there was no helmet on his head at all.

Your words were completely justified and yet, there was a tightness in his chest that made him realize how much he wanted— no, needed you to change your mind.

Before he could say anything, you stood up from the stone and slowly walked over to him. The sheer material of your dress gave him a perfect view of your entire body, but his gaze was still fixed on your eyes.

“Stand,” you said and there was no room in your tone for his protest.

He obediently rose from his knees, forcing you to look up as he now towered over you.

“I don’t trust you,” you declared, plunging another dagger into his chest. Your sharp gaze made him understand that he was too weak to let you stab again.

“Then make me earn your trust,” he said it confidently and really meant it. He was willing to go as far as he had to.

His words hung between you, finally letting the birdsong and the rush of the stream reach your ears.

The grey slowly began to give way to white with each passing second as you thought about his words and what was behind them.

“I exist beyond any religion.”

These words should have caused a red light to go off in his head, but nothing like that happened. Instead of common sense and the Laws of the Way, a small flame appeared in his body, drawing him towards you. There was nothing in your look that could suggest that you wanted to force him to do something, on the contrary, you were giving him the opportunity to leave.

But the seconds passed and he still stood there, worse, he nodded, giving you a sign that he had made a decision. A decision that start the downfall of his beliefs.

“Your way does not lead here, Mandalorian,” you said as if he didn’t know.

But he did. Better than anyone before him.

But that worry died faster than it appeared the moment your hands found their way to his armor. Despite the beskar separating you, he could have sworn he felt your burning touch.

Your attention focused on the clasps of each protector that you slowly pulled off of him and Din couldn’t do anything but watch your face as if hypnotized.

You carefully placed each piece on the grass, showing his armor the respect he was grateful for.

A sharp intake of breath sounded through his modulator as you knelt before him to remove the protectors from his thighs. The sight was definitely too stimulating for him, and you could see his cock smacking the material of his pants. You didn’t comment on it, but to his surprise, you leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his bulge. A shameful groan escaped his throat as his dick twitched, eager for your closeness.

You straightened up, leaving him in just his clothes and helmet. Your gaze didn’t meet his as you continued to work on each clasp, revealing his arms, chest, stomach, legs, every part of him that was decorated with scars.

“Will you tell me their story?” you asked, running your fingertips over the wound on his right chest.

Shivers ran through his body at your gentle touch.

“Each one of them,” he blurted out on a ragged breath.

His answer brought a gentle smile to your face, and he didn’t miss the way your hair flashed white again. You felt good again. Safe.

He wanted to ask about it, but as the words formed on his tongue, a dozen other questions suddenly appeared so he just kept quiet. He preferred to blame it on his own flood of thoughts rather than the fact that your gaze was rendering him speechless.

The sparkle in your eyes seemed even brighter than your snow-white hair. For a moment he lost his breath and then he twitched anxiously, feeling your hands on the edge of his helmet.

You waited.

One second, two, but there was no sign of resignation from him, so you continued.

The fresh air brushed his cheeks and then his hair, bringing a strange feeling of relief. He didn’t expect this after he willingly let his helmet be taken off. He expected negative emotions, anger at himself and his tormentor. But when he saw you without any barriers, he couldn’t feel anything but desire.

His dark eyes, dressed in small wrinkles, radiated with warmth but also emptiness.

He seemed lost, not in an endless galaxy but in his own mind.

A curved nose that hid a thin lips surrounded by the same dark stubble as his irises. To that, messy hair from constantly hiding his identity from the world.

He was beautiful. Wounded by life but beautiful.

“You look tired,” you said sympathetically, lifting a hand to stroke his stubbled jaw.

He let out a shaky breath as he felt you.

Like— he really felt you.

His eyes closed on their own and his head tilted, clinging to your hand. His mind barely reached the memory of the last time someone had been this close with him. And he had to admit it felt good. The closeness of another person was so rare for him that he forgot how addictive it was.

You allowed him a moment of tenderness that he needed after so many years of loneliness and watched with affection as he snuggled into your touch.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he almost purred with pleasure.

“Will you let me to show you more?” you asked.

His hand covered yours before he began to place soft kisses on the palm of it. He didn’t even know how to describe what he was feeling; desire was too weak a word.

He felt hungry.

And that hunger seemed to keep growing.

The rough stubble irritated your skin and the soft lips brought relief. Every inch of his skin screamed for your attention. You saw how broken he was deep inside, how much he needed what you could give him.

“Please,” he moaned desperately.

“Then kiss me.”

That command made his gaze fall back to your face. He seemed in disbelief, searching for something that doesn’t exist. He found nothing in your eyes that could suggest the opposite of your words.

He didn’t need anything more.

His hands landed on your jaw, holding you hardly as his lips crushed yours even harder. You moaned, not expecting the force he used. He didn’t hold back, couldn’t hold back, allowing himself to drown in the moment as he hungrily began to kiss you. His tongue quickly found yours, forcing you to submit to his guidance. This time, you were the one who began to melt under his touch.

You kissed him back, wanting to give him as much as he needed and even more.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Lay down,” he said, overcome with the need to claim you.

You shivered, looking at him like a defenseless animal. You backed away from him as much as he would let you, before he followed you like a shadow as you laid down on the grass.

His lips attacked yours again in a thirsty kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, trying to catch your breath with every chance he gave you because there weren’t many when his tongue didn’t want to stop caressing yours.

His large, warm hands slowly began to roam your body. Your dress was no barrier to feeling him as should.

He ran his fingertips over your breasts, teasing and bringing your nipples back to life. You moaned, thirsty for his attention in that place which he didn’t give you. Instead, he dug his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips. You wrapped your leg around his, pulling him closer to you.

His hard cock brushed against your core, making him hiss. He couldn’t hold back his instincts any longer, so with slightly too aggressive movements, he began to pull up the material of your dress, and only when it was all wrapped around your waist he was satisfied enough to pull away from you and look down between your bodies.

He was panting heavily from the kisses and allowed himself to stare at your temple for so long that you began to arch with desire. His cock quivered painfully at the thought of being inside you.

“Din,” you begged. His name on your lips sent a wave of shivers down his spine.

He looked at you, wondering how you knew his real name, but when he saw you, he was speechless again.

Your hair was lying around your head, and it wouldn’t have been strange if it wasn’t for the fact that it was now in a shade of light red.

“Please,” you moaned, digging your fingers deeper into his scalp. He couldn’t think straight seeing you like this, lying beneath him and craving his touch.

He wanted to give you what you needed, he wanted it so badly, but he was afraid that after so many years of celibacy he wouldn’t be able to satisfy you, and he really wanted to see you fall to pieces because of him.

“Cyar’ika…” he began hesitantly.

“Stop talking,” you cut him off, sliding your hands down his cheeks. “I want you inside me.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. “Just enter me,” you almost begged, feeling your core throb with desire.

So he did as you asked.

He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed into you. He rested forehead against yours, overwhelmed, reveling in the warmth and wetness you greeted him with.

A feeling of bliss attacked all of his senses at once. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so good, like he was right where he was supposed to be, like he was home.

Your moans mingled as his cock sank fully inside you. He shuddered as you began to clench around him, wanting more.

“It feels so good,” he whispered, and with a groan, he began to gently move his hips. He didn’t want to leave your core for even a second, so he simply ground his hips against yours, constantly filling you all.

You shivered, digging your fingers into his shoulders at the constant feeling of stimulation. Your cunt throbbed around him like she never wanted to let him go.

“Yes, so good,” you moaned, overcome with pleasure that was building inside you. You hugged his arms tightly, surrendering yourself completely to his care.

The gentle movements he fed you with were more than perfect for you to feel what kind of man he really was. He needed someone to show him how to take care of each other and that’s what you wanted to give him today. His heavy breath was lost in your mouth which constantly showed him how good he made you feel; your kisses were everywhere.

He finally forced himself to watch the blissful expression on your face. You looked beautiful, overcome with pleasure, your eyes closed and your lips parted; but what fascinated him more, was the way your hair turned redder with each thrust of his hips. He focused on that and entered you harder noticing the color suddenly darken.

So he thrust again-harder.

You howled as you felt the traces of your orgasm begin to show in your core.

Din began to experiment, he entered you slowly and gently, and after a moment he plunged his cock into you with animal strength. Your hair gave him a show of different shades of red and he quickly understood how that magic had worked.

So he began to do everything to make your hair the reddest it could be, such as a color of blood.

He found the perfect pace and intensity with which he caressed your pussy until you cried out of pleasure under him. He felt as if he had unlocked a forbidden ability that allowed him to know what you felt.

Suddenly everything made sense; black when you were afraid, red when you felt pleasure.

And he had to admit that red suited you the best.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he gasped, clenching his jaw as the pleasure began to build in his core too.

Your hair began to flash like a transmitter that led him to you, letting him know that you were fighting against the last barriers that separated you from fulfillment.

“Come for me. I know you want to,” he whispered against your ear, sending the missing stimulus through your body. The orgasm overshadowed your senses and gave him a unique spectacle as your hair ignited like living fire. Your pussy began to throb on him and he couldn’t fight the pleasure you were pulling him into.

He growled, cumming inside you in several bursts until his balls were empty. The orgasm momentarily blurred his vision and left his body trembling. The experience of such an aegis after so many years was overwhelming for him.

He wasn’t experiencing his peak, almost panicking from the intensity of it but then your fingers had a grounding effect on him. The gentle touch of your hands brought him the desired feeling of stability.

He looked at you with a drunken gaze and the first thing he noticed was your warm smile, only later the delicate pink color of your hair.

Tenderness.

He found himself wanting to learn what each remaining color meant. He wanted to be present for everything so he could learn to read you like an open book.

His breathing slowly calmed down under your touch. You stroked his cheek, watching a million emotions that flew through his eyes. You were silent, allowing him to experience, understand, and accept his own emotions, something he didn’t experience often.

“What are you?” he finally asked the most important question. You smiled tenderly and pulled him into a gentle kiss.

This gesture ignited something inside him, making him realize that he would like to feel this every day when he woke up and fell asleep.

“I am everything.”

[aniyas-weird-writing]

Thank you for answering my question. Could I request MK intros for two kombantants who find out they both like the reader. Such as Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Laing, Kung Lao/Liu Kang and Fujin/Nightwolf :)

Thank you for the request! Of course, this seems like a fine idea and I’m excited to write about it!

Kombantants finding out they like the reader. (MK11 Intros) (2/3 drafts)

theme: ‘fluff’, rushed.

warnings: none

Kung Lao/Liu Kang

Kung Lao: Y/N has eyes for me, Liu Kang.

Liu Kang: Your pride knows no bounds.

Kung Lao: What? Mad you know it’s true?

Kung Lao: Y/N and I are going to train together today.

Liu Kang: Mind if I join?

Kung Lao: Aren’t you training with Raiden, Liu Kang?

Liu Kang: I don’t think Y/N would like a prideful man such as you.

Kung Lao: I don’t think Y/N would like a weak man such as you.

Liu Kang: Then why is it I’m Earthrealm’s champion, and your not?

Kuai Liang/Hanzo Hasashi

Kuai Liang: I have taken a liking to Y/N.

Hanzo Hasashi: So do I, Kuai.

Kuai Liang: Let the best man win.

Hanzo Hasashi: Y/N would make a fine Shirai Ryou.

Kuai Liang: False. They would be a fine Lin Kuei.

Hanzo Hasashi: She’s hot, not cold.

Kuai Liang: Y/N’s favorite flowers is the Bird of Paradise.

Hanzo Hasashi: How do you know that?

Kuai Liang: She said so last night.

Nightwolf/Fujin

Nightwolf: The Great Spirit admires tough females.

Fujin: I admire Sonya Blade as well.

Nightwolf: The Great Spirit was referring to Y/N.

Fujin: Y/N proposes an idea.

Nightwolf: And what is that idea, Fujin?

Fujin: We stop fighting over her.

Nightwolf: The Matoka females are almost extinct.

Fujin: A tragedy indeed.

Nightwolf: Y/N is my only hope.

And this concludes this request! Thank you sm for requesting this!

req from: anon

[corviiids]

i see you tagging Joker Persona5 (his christian name) on that crossdressing post but . . . Have you written him crossdressing-

Lala scrutinises him for a long moment before plucking a fresh q-tip from the packet and smudging his Cupid's bow. Ren feels pampered--observed--the way he might if he were a doll, but it's not an altogether bad feeling. It's kind of nice. Definitely not the worst way he's been observed this year. Far from it, really.

"I think you're decent," Lala decides.

He'd expected, maybe, some level of surprise from her when he'd asked her about this. Some lighthearted teasing, perhaps? Shouldn't have. She's a consummate professional. It's almost a shame, because maybe if she'd interrogated him about it he'd be forced to verbalise what exactly this feeling is. Now he's just going to have to figure himself out without the comparative comfort of doing someone a favour.

Lala turns him to the mirror.

No grand revelations there. It's Ren in the glass, it's just Ren in a dress. He doesn't feel any different. Doesn't feel any nicer, doesn't feel more right, any more himself. Just Ren in a dress.

Prettier, though.

He adjusts his belt, self-conscious.

"You like the colour?" Lala asks him. She's still holding the lipstick; it's a sweet, cool red. She's businesslike. "We could go darker if you want, but you're young. Bright is good."

"I like it," Ren says.

"Dress isn't too tight?"

"No."

"How you feeling?"

Mostly the same. A little more painted. It's been a year of finding comfort in some kind of veneer like it's a trade. Hiding his eyes to swap vulnerability for a roguish streak, for instance, or for a bit of plausible deniability. His glasses are off now. He'd asked, but the false lashes were too long and they'd smudge the lenses, or so said Lala. And of course the domino mask is nowhere to be found. Ren's face is exposed. But it's painted.

He tilts his head and watches his mirror self do the same, inquisitive like a bird of paradise. The gloss makes his lips look pursed all the time. Lala's shadowed his eyes, too, made them glittery and hooded. It's a wide-eyed look that makes him look curious and mysterious all at once. Doesn't look like him, but it does. Feels like meeting a twin and then taking her place.

Lala is watching him. She's too professional to let that knowing expression pierce her own immaculate makeup.

"You're coping well with those heels," she offers, and does not ask further.

"Thanks," says Ren. "I think I can take my shift now."

"Watch that lippie if you eat or drink," she warns him. "It'll smear. Anything else you want, hon?"

His mirror self tilts her head again, coy. No mask. Joker winks out from a sparkle in her eye.

"Do you have gloves?" Ren asks.

[revumajiosu]

Holly fursona time! She is a Greater Bird-of-Paradise :)

Click below for more cool sketches yay yippiee!!

I had a lot of fun designing this one - it took a LOT of experimentation for me to get the colors and that wack tail to look just right. Definitely my most complex RTVS furry design (hoping to eventually upload the others in due time!)

I chose the Greater Bird-of-Paradise because of the color scheme, as I already knew I wanted to represent Holly with some kind of tropical bird/avian furry, and was especially enticed by their long fluffy tails. Drawing that was definitely a learning experience.

I also wanted to give her a sort of "Big Bird-like" puppety proportions, with long legs and big hands (the false-paw pads were a last minute creative decision), which ultimately might make her the tallest fursona of the RTVS lineup. We'll see about that when I get to them.

[paulpingminho]

[levshany]

Where’d you get the name Hamayun? Is it the name of the type of bird Philip is?

Short story:

Hamayun is the name of a bird creature from slavic folklore

Long story:

Hamayun is a bird of paradise, the messenger and herald of the gods. She sings for people and predicts the future for those who wish to know it. She's wise and knows everything about the origin of the world. Able to cast a dream with a glance. Her cry portends happiness

Hamayun is described either as a bird without legs and wings, forever flying with her long tail, never landing on the ground, or as a being with the body of a bird and the head of a man. Her head and neck are often adorned with jewels

Phillip is not biblically accurate Hamayun. He is much bigger, definitely not from paradise, and his cry doesn't portend anything good. Then why this design couldn't be called "harpy", which is more familiar to people? Well, because we already have Eda. I didn't want people to make unnecessary associations with her, so I decided to take something from fairy tales that were read to me as a child

Turned out that between Phillip and Hamayun it is possible to draw a couple of interesting parallels: they are similar with their wisdom and pride, and different in that Hamayun is the true messenger of the gods, while Phillip is false

The name "Hamayun" in my AU is used as an analogue of "Belos". Phillip was given this name by people. He did not come up with it. "Belos" doesn't exist in my story, neither as a name nor as a character. Hamayun is cruel, but only towards those who come to him with evil intentions. He kills people, but he doesn't have the mindset that humanity deserves to die. Therefore, calling him Belos in this case is incorrect

Thaaat's it

[randomficrecss]

Eruri fic rec <3

Part 1

ugh they are so perfect, this is one of my most fav ships ever!!

these are gonna be all longer fics like 90K+ words but i’ll definitely post another part with shorter ones!

The Blue by bowowline

E | 176.1K | 14/14 | Hitman Levi, AU modern setting, Slowburn, Smut

“Look, kid. Don’t listen to what Uri says, you hear?” Kenny combs his hair with his hand, although there’s not a single strand out of place. “Don’t ever listen to him. You only have one kinda people you have to listen to. You know that, yes? Who do you listen to? Tell me,” he orders, kind of frantic.

“I only listen to the Family,” Levi says absently.

As a child, Levi refused to finish a job. He has not made one blunder after that. Twenty years later, fate catches up to him again.

Birds of Paradise by obiwhat12

No rating (check tags) | 94.9K | 14/14 | Hurt/Comfort, Sick Levi, Domestic Fluff, PTSD

On an expedition gone awry, Erwin and Levi find themselves stranded in the forest, fighting for their lives. They are graced with no other option except to put their faith in one another, despite their vast differences.

Under the same bright stars, they discover a new kind of consolation in each other that neither has known before.

In These Fallen Leaves by masksarehot

E | 210.2K | 32/32 | Temporary Character Death, Post-Canon, Hurt/Comfort, Smut

[Post-Basement canon-divergent AU] Ten years after the end of the war, Levi, still heartbroken over Erwin's death, is living out a quiet existence with a few Survey Corps survivors. But signs are beginning to surface that Erwin is not truly dead, and they're getting too vivid to ignore...

This fic explores (canon-divergent) choices that the survivors made after Erwin's death and their consequences for the world. It's also about healing, and Erwin and Levi learning to put words to things that have always been unspoken between them. And beneath it all are the paths, whispering to them that the fate of Paradis still rests upon their shoulders...

Corps-à-Corps by onthearrow (loved this one)

E | 223.6K | 25/25 | AU fencing, Slowburn, Smut

Meeting people in New York City is hard. When Erwin’s last good friend moves away for greener pastures, he joins the local fencing club in his Upper East Side neighborhood in hopes of rekindling both an old hobby, and his wilting social life.

-OR-

The newest member of Levi's fencing club has it all it all-- money, a highly successful career, overbearingly good looks. Levi doesn't have any of that. But he sure as hell wants Erwin Smith anyway.

The Means by calacreda

E | 130.2K | 16/16 | Post-ACWNR, Pre-AOT, Prostitution, Slowburn

'He hears him say “Do not tell a soul, Levi” and wants to laugh. Tell anyone? To what end? So that others have the images that Levi now has running through his head; of grabbing hands and harness marks, hard words and soft lips, of lies upon lies upon lies in a desperate attempt to get to the truth?'

Levi begins to notice Erwin leaving HQ alone and not returning until the dead of night.

Slow-burn, pre-show Eruri.

He Chose Titans by masksarehot

E | 486.1K | 43/43 | Semi-Canon Prequel, Truama, Fluff, Smut

Erwin swore he would never again be distracted from his fight against the titans, but when an unexpected bond begins to form with Levi, he must decide whether he will follow his heart or his head.

Mail Order Spy by 35g (Jaackdaw)

M | 230K | 24/24 | Slowburn, Espionage, PTSD, Fake/Pretend Relationship

2091. Titans are no longer the frail oddities they once were. They're changing, growing. Governments aren’t changing with them. The International Military Police is tightening their leash. Erwin Smith orders a spy.

Dresden by hedera_helix (one of my all time favs)

M | 334.4K | 26/26 | AU, Historial, WWII

When Levi acquired his false identification he knew that the key to survival would be to stay unnoticed and to contain the bitterness and anger he feels inside himself. As the tides of war start to turn against Germany, however, Levi finds himself in a position to make a choice.

CODA by crownlessk_ing

M | 222.2K | 27/27 | AU 80’s, Musicians, Canon Disabled Character, Period-Typical Homophobia, War Flashbacks

France, 1986 - The last time Erwin was in Paris, he had it all. Youth, love, success, and his place in some of the most prestigious orchestras of the world. His cello had been his faithful companion through it all, and many said Erwin was the most talented cellist of his time. With such a bright future, it was easy to pretend everything was perfect.

But a lot had changed in ten years.

Now, all he had left were ghosts in his shadows, blurred memories of what used to be, and a body broken beyond repair.

He hoped going back to where it all started would be enough to recover what he’d lost: his ability to hold a cello, to feel, to love. He’d been wrong so far. But there may be another soul just as broken as his, someone who was also wandering in search of their own missing pieces.

Final Tour by gouguruheddo

M | 131.9K | 22/22 | Friends to lovers, PTSD, Modern America, Mid-Life Crisis, grief/Mourning, Trust Issues, Hurt/Comfort

It's been twenty years in the army, and Levi is finally home--retired, bored, directionless. The world has moved on without him, including his friend Erwin. He struggles to learn to adjust, to deal with his nightmares, to flourish in a world he's never understood, only to find that Erwin is dealing with the same thing.

Pledge by EllaBesmirched (El_Bell)

E | 123.9K | 15/15 | AU college, Frat Boy Erwin, ex-thug Levi, Slowburn, Light Hazing,

Levi is not in a fucking frat.

The Laws of Survival by pasiphile

E | 120.8K | 7/7 | Slowburn, Dom/Sub Undertones, PTSD, Non-binary Hange

His friends are dead, and now he’s trapped in a world where he has no voice, no control, and no one on his side except for the bastard who forced him to join in the first place.

Trust doesn’t just grow in one day.

Vespers by Valisi (series)

E | 109.5K | 12 Works | read tags

A series of stories detailing Erwin Smith and Levi Ackerman's private life together. Pieces can be read individually or as a whole.

Some pieces will reference things that have happened in past parts of the story, but it's nothing so major that you'll feel left out.

[hundredsspoons]

Nice Wizard of Oz reference

But seriously, Sunday had me rolling my eyes the whole story like he really was just spouting a bunch of religious drivel based on unprovable historical assumptions, fallacies, emotional extremes.... but that was the point, wasn't it? I don't want to say Sunday wasn't at fault here, because he is an adult and clearly extremely capable, but he was groomed from a very young age by Wood to be the sacrifice for Order. Wood picked up these orphans without any outside connections to raise, and even turned the simple act of finding a wounded bird into a lesson about the pointlessness of ambition (and thus the necessity for order). As the apparent(?) highest authority in Penacony, Wood no doubt played a crucial role in Sunday becoming a notpriest early in his career, where he learned about the dark underside of Penacony's dream economy, and then the head of the Oak Family. After the person closest to him left Penacony, Wood used it as an opportunity to isolate Sunday further from Robin by revealing how she was hiding her injury, (thus instilling the idea that she lies to Sunday/Wood tells Sunday the truth/the world is dangerous for Robin and needs Order). There's no way in my mind NO WAY that Wood thought for a SECOND that Sunday would let Robin become the chord master and trap herself for eternity in complete isolation. He was forcing a false binary where it HAD to be either Robin or him. And since Sunday couldn't let that happen to his sister, it had to be him. If Wood had genuinely wanted Robin to be the chord master, he could have easily trained her like he trained Sunday to embrace the Order, but there's no evidence that he so much as breathed a word to her about it.

I really love how Penacony has played around with the relationship between Christianity and consumerism and the cultishness of both, but like. I was interested in my own reaction because. I sympathized with Sunday's turmoil over the inequality of freedom and his obvious love for his sister, but I didn't really like him? His arguments were tired, his perspective was limited- frankly I found him kind of annoying. But yeah, that's because he was absolutely raised in a cult. And I didn't like him because he was saying and doing extreme things without any flexibility. Like a cult member. I had assumed that he was represented by the crow/raven in official art, but now that we know that's Wood, it means that Sunday is probably Also represented by the caged bird? And what an interesting concept. That the victim is mistaken for the abuser/manipulator. Because Wood hides behind the curtain while Sunday stands center stage espousing the unlikeable nonsense Wood has instilled in him. And thus takes all the heat. Of course, applying the label of Victim(tm) to Sunday would be really reductive; there's no denying he did horrible things, but like I really want to reflect on how my immediate reaction to his situation was kind of like, 'Who would be stupid enough to believe this nonsense?' instead of having any compassion or thoughtfulness about the wider context.

And I wouldn't be surprised if Sunday Did Know that Wood was doing all this. Like Sunday confronts him near the end, but I think Wood's teachings about the Order were just so engrained at that point that Sunday felt like he had independently come to the conclusion that Order was needed even if he knew Wood had been training him for this moment all along.

It's also interesting considering Sunday's thoughts on the strong and the weak. He views himself as someone strong enough to guide all of Penacony towards a perfect paradise and believes he has a responsibility to protect the weak from themselves and the harshness of reality, but Wood clearly singled him out as a vulnerable person. Firstly, because he was an orphan obviously, but Wood could have chosen to groom Robin instead. He knew that Sunday was the more susceptible child to his teachings of Order.

[sunyandmony]

New au time😭

I can't come up with a better name so just slide along with it;-;

It was a God of its own little world, the life that surrounded it was truly unnatural yet.. Breathtaking. To think that it created all of it under the circumstances of the universe. Sure, time was broken before, but it managed to fix it. Somehow... And got life back on the surface of what he called 'paradise', its second chance to be better at the job it was given.

And yet, the creation it made was not perfect as meant to be... You, the first living being of this universe... You were definitely special, but you were also dangerous. It could not rid of you now, could not turn back.. It made a huge mistake, but couldn't take it back now- not when you stood in front of it with such admiration and devotion for a being that only brought darkness and dismay along its path. Despite your devotion, which it accepted, it wasn't like it'd let you go live on your own, whatever life had been growing by itself was dangerous, and so, you were kept just at eye range.

Your God was always strong, always wise and always one step ahead of you.. You knew this was the right choice, your God is always right. And you never doubted it.

That all changed when new life appeared, and your God pushed you aside to care more for the others. You were still faithful nonetheless, and every bit of attention, every glance, was taken in consideration by your human eyes. But... On that day, the last glance your God gave you before vanishing was... Not right... Not a way a God would look at the most faithful of followers..... And since than, you have been left under the care of a 'false' God, who was just under the Original' right arm always, now ranked up to take the said place. You doubted the disappearance of your God, and continued praying. You did not believe in the new God shown right in your face, or the fact your own God could've been the true fake... You weren't planning on changing your mind any time soon. You believed in your God more than yourself. And that was just a simple fact, there was far more than what was shown on the outside. A simple day in your life always consisted of first thing praying for exactly 3 hours before moving on to eating and than to your duties, which weren't even that many.

Everybody took you as the 'non-faithful' type towards the actual God, but you didn't care. Even your friends thought so, and that was painful at once. But you had to do it for their sake, they were drifting away from the truth unlike you. There is NO other God than THE Original, and that was it for you. Nothing more or less.

You are still the same person on the inside though, careful, gentle and curious as a human would be. The earth and the living beings you weren't allowed to see before were truly beautiful, from small bugs to flying birds and to freely roaming foxes.. Truly something to admire.. You assumed your God just didn't know they were harmless as the reason it didn't let you go far. Definitely, even a God makes mistakes!

....

...

..

.

That's about it y'all- Motivation gone💔

[jillraggett]

Plant of the Day

Saturday 3 June 2023

Growing in a tropical glasshouse this Heliconia rostrata (false bird of paradise, hanging lobster claw) was putting on a show. This large, evergreen perennial has leaves up to 2m long and produces hanging inflorescences made up of bright red bracts, each tipped with yellow and green, with small yellowish-white flowers which in the Americas are pollinated by humming birds.

Jill Raggett