#fern green wool

[ivys-garden]

More Minecraft ideas, what part of Minecraft needs improvement?

You're wrong, it's ponds.

Ponds, lakes, lava pools. They all suck in Minecraft, they end up just being big holes in the ground with nothing interesting about them that make the landscape ugly and hole ridden

Now you might say “Ivy, literally no one cares” and to that I say, wheesht and accept my ramblings ya donut

So, how do we fix Ponds? It's simply really: make ponds generated structures.

Ponds would now be generated structures taking up one chunk, with an actual human made design to make them, you know, look good. There would be, say, 100 or so different designs to stop them looking to samey (they'd be so small that something like that would be feasible)

Lakes would be done similarly, only with the key difference, they would be made up of 4 chunk “cells”, each making up a corner of the lake.

ponds and lakes in plains or forest biomes would be made of blocks like mud and dirt.

Ponds and lakes in deserts (or oases if you want) would be made up of grass and sand

Ponds and lakes in tundras would be frozen over on the top layer of the water and with clay spawning around the water

Now, let's see some things that can be found in ponds and lakes:

Frogs

Nothing new here, frogs and frogspawn are most common ponds, pond frogs also only come in the green frog varietie.

Perhaps the oasis can have a desert rain frog variant that gives a purple frog light

Toads

Toads and toad spawn can be found in lakes and ponds in forest and plains biomes. Toads emerge from toad spawn in the same way frogs do. Toads have an exaggerated size, being double the size of the frog

Toads come in several colours (Green, Brown, Yellow, Orange and Lime) but these colours do not harbour any game mechanics (in other words: sorry but there are no toadlights)

Toads will eat all mobs with wings, that being the Parrot, Chicken, Phantom, Bat, Bee and the player if they are wearing an elytra, so watch out.

All the aforementioned mobs are scared of Toads, making them and effective deterrent to phantoms in particular

Cattails, Reeds, Rice, Algae and Papyrus

I'll just do all the plant life stuff at once (these will generate dependent on the pond or lake cell)

Algae is a new decorative blocks that can be placed on water

It will connect to other blocks, creating an unbroken surface across the water

Algae has a bright green hue and can be found in both ponds and lakes with the same frequency

Papyrus is a new plant that spawns naturally in the oasis, it is used as a more efficient way of making paper as it can be bonemealed and only one papyrus is needed to make paper

Rice is a plant that grows in water in lakes and ponds spawning in cherry groves.

Rice can be used in two recipes:

Rice Bowls:Putting rice, a bowl and any meat together will craft a rice bowl

This food source that can be eaten twice, eating the meat and then the rice

Sushi: putting rice, dried kelp and one fish into a crafting table creates Sushi, a foodsoarch that can be eaten instantly without playing the eating animation, not very nutritious but good in a pinch

Cattails are a purely decorative plant found in ponds and swamps

Reeds are more common around rivers and lakes, being a fern like plant that grows two tall.

Reeds can be used to craft a new item: Pan Pipes

Combining 3 reeds and 3 string will create pan pipes, these can be played to draw passive mobs towards you so long as the button to play them is held down.

Pan Pipes can also calm neutral mobs like wolves, iron golems and bees, but doing this instantly focus the Pan pipes into cool down

Pan pipes have a cool down double that of the Goat Horn

Bagpipes

By putting Pan Pipes, 3 iron nuggets, 3 red wool and 3 green wool together you can make Bagpipes.

Bagpipes have durability on top of having the same level of cool down as Pan Pipes. Bagpipes cannot be enchanted.

Bagpipes have the ability to PERMANENTLY pacify all hostile mobs in the chunk the player is in.

Bagpipes will break after 10 or so uses

Willow and Palm

Willow and palm are new wood types, Willow spawns around lakes and ponds and Palm spawns around oases.

Willow has a dark Bluish-green colour, complementing mangrove, where as Palm is a desaturated pale white

(These will generate depending on the pond or lake cell)

(Part 1/3)

[aloysiavirgata]

She walks in beauty, like the night

Scully in the simplest, blackest silk. Scully pale, moon-kissed, vulnerable. Scully’s hair and eyes like where the stars are born.

***

Scully comes to him when even the moon is all but asleep, like a single calla lily from a secret admirer. Unbidden. Unexpected.

Unparalleled.

“Mulder,” she says, outside his open door, in a negligee that last shade of sky blue before it goes pitch black.

Spaghetti straps and a low décolletage, though not shockingly low. Lace trim, mid thigh. It looks like something Katharine Hepburn would wear to slap you.

Not you. Him.

Specifically him.

She looks up at him through her heavy-lashed, heavy-lidded eyes.

He stares at her for his own sake because deep in his 12 year old heart, no one would ever, ever, believe that nerdy Fox Muld-

Scully takes another step closer onto the sad oatmeal carpet of his hotel room. She has such pretty ankles, she has such pretty calves. She smells like honeysuckle and hot bike tires and buttery lobster rolls and the sweetest, purest moments of his life.

She tips her face up to him, Agent Scully does, all eyes and lips and cheekbones like a geometric proof.

“God,” he says. And he means it.

***

LA belongs to the sun and Scully is a San Diego baby but he knows, he knows, she is an East Coast girl at heart. He knows she loves the first retinal purple-orange sunrises of America and the first sapphire kisses of night. He knows she loves the stars by which her father learned to navigate. He knows she loves the distant moon.

He knows she loves blue crabs and wool duffel coats and khaki shorts and aspires to East Hampton in her most secret, silent heart.

One day he will make love to her in London because she will, he knows, hark to the call of the City. She is a creature of old stone and lichen and liminal space.

She is the answer to Samson’s riddle.

***

He’d rented a jet black ‘57 Chevy Bel Air because Christ, this girl. Abductions and cancer and the most awful brutality and stolen ova and Christ; this brilliant, moonbeam girl.

She sees the car and she says nothing. But her eyes, her eyes. Her Star of India eyes.

Scully sees the car and she smiles, shy. Scully squeezes his hand.

***

He fucks her - hard, desperate - in the Chevy out over Mullholland and she cries out for him because even Saint Teresa writhed in ecstasy.

He kisses her the way a mariner kisses his homeland soil because she is his human credential. He kisses her like a Torah scroll. He shudders, murmurs I love you, I love you into the hot, sweet dark of her mouth.

***

She is bleeding, just a little. She is bleeding in the warm caress of a Southern California night. She is bleeding as though she were a virgin and maybe she is; maybe there is sex and there is fucking and there is making love and there is This.

Are you there, god? It’s me, Dana.

She touches his sleeping rosebud lips. She touches his funny nose and his beautiful jaw and she doesn’t say I love you aloud like he had because she’d learned it was shameful. She’d learned to salute.

But it’s 3 AM, neither properly morning nor properly night. It’s 3 AM and she isn’t LA pretty, not by a long shot, but she’s here with him, with Mulder, who is very LA pretty and has money besides.

She’s too short and too pale and her nose is patrician rather than cute and she gets burnt instead of tan. She doesn’t laugh in the right places at movies. She likes copper because it burns green, she likes moths more than butterflies, she can quote Jane Austen’s most acerbic lines.

She thinks of Mulder swimming hard across the Vineyard tides, Mulder with his cinnamon skin in the whipped cream breakers. Riding a red fixed-gear along Lake Tashmoo, tugging his tiny sister along. Mulder basking on the beach like a young god of summer. Mulder with his heart afire like Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque.

Her father is dead and look, look Mulder has such a tender soul even if he’s Jewish and atheist, Daddy. Mulder has eyes like fern moss.

“I love you,” she says, her eyes brimming with tears, her eyes bright as the newest stars.

[curiositydooropened]

Ranged • 01: Firetower

You and Steve have been sent on a missing person's case, a park ranger in the Cascades went missing from his post after reporting a large area of downed trees. Could be something up your alley.

Pairing: special agent!Steve Harrington x special agent!Reader

Wordcount: 5742

Warnings: very slowburn, this fic is episodic, coworkers to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore, weapons, fighting, murder, viruses, decay, monsters *This chapter contains mentions of animal harm, blood, vomit/nausea, potential character death, and whump/bad injuries - also hey, I'm not a doctor and this fic is free, so my inaccuracies might bug you. xo

This blog is 18+ only. I do not give permission for any of my fics to be duplicated, reposted, or put into AI. Thank you!

Navigation • Fic Masterlist

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Moodboard • 00: Prologue • 02: Home [Coming Soon]

Fire Lookout Tower 647 - Cascades

Fog blanketed the forest floor and just beyond, it coated the tops of trees, covering pine needles in vast, rolling smoke. Everything lacked saturation up here, everything but verdant moss and fern and branch, a sea of grey and green, damp and deep. The sunlight filtered in way far off, to the West, but everything out of its reach had begun to groan under the steady pelt of plummeting rain.

Rain pittered and pat against the tin roof and into the quickly filling bucket in the corner. Its splash zone had been haphazardly mopped with a shaggy old towel. 

You watched the landscape shift beyond the clouds, wrapped in wool socks and a flannel blanket while your partner took his turn retrieving fire wood from its drying spot beneath the tower.

His presence was announced by the groaning of stairs and the creaking of a rusted spring on the door. 

Steve had only smiled a handful of times since you met him, a painful stretch of soft features, the wrinkle never leaving his brow. To be fair, your job rarely warranted more than a polite grimace to townsfolk whose crops you’d left ablaze, whose family members you’d left on a slab.

Today was no different.

“This place is a shit hole,” he grumbled, rolling cut wood from his arms onto the ground in front of the stove. 

You hummed, knowing better than to argue something so trivial before he had his dinner.

He hunched to stoke the fire, now mere ashes and embers that glowed red in the little iron stove. He was soaked to the bone, dark hair clinging to his forehead and around his ears. He’d have to cut it again before your next return to Base. 

His hands were bright red, nipped cold and hard-worked, and you rolled your eyes at the pair of gloves he’d left on the rickety card table near the door. 

“Fucking rain,” he muttered, shoving kindling in hopes for it to catch.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself upright and reached for your own rain slicker on its hook. A puddle had formed and seeped through the floorboards, creating a patch of darkened wood that ringed with all puddles that had come before. “I’m going to get water to boil.” 

“Be careful.” 

The spring creaked. Rain gushed from dips in the roof and splashed loudly against rocks on the hillside. 

You glanced back at Steve. He was hunched in front of a started fire, worry etched between his brows. 

He shrugged. “I slipped at the bottom of the stairs.” He gestured to the mud that streaked his left pant-leg. “Be careful.”

You nodded and stepped out into the deluge.

The window coverings provided a good roof for the porch, save a few leaks here and there, and you clung to the side of the building as your guard rail to round it. You’d put empty buckets on the south end. All five of them had all overflowed. 

You picked the lightest one. You’d managed to haul it back across slippery planks, dozens of feet in the air, to the door before your right foot slipped out from under you. With a yelp, and the sting of bitter cold against your ass cheeks, you fell. The building teetered under your shifted weight, and you clung to the railing with pinched breath.

The spring creaked. Steve stood at the door with lumbered shoulders and that same frown, looking down a freckled nose at you. He picked up the bucket with one hand and held his other for you to take. “I said, ‘be careful’.” 

While the water boiled and Steve grumbled about canned meatballs, you stripped out of wet jeans and remained in damp Long Johns, removing your socks and hat and gloves to hang near the fire. 

The sun had already dipped far to the west, catching on split clouds in purples and oranges before it was swallowed up again by the grey. 

“You get the radio working?” Steve sighed, adverse to the quiet. 

You shook your head and stirred tomato paste around in the pot. After many meals with Steve, you were sure he grew up in the kind of household that only ate their meals on trays in front of the television. He could never really sit and appreciate the stillness. “Go ahead and tinker with it. Is there a game tonight?” 

“There was,” he deployed a long antenna and fidgeted with a few dials. Static buzzed from the plastic between his hands. “Might be too late. What time zone are we in?” 

“Pacific,” you explained. “Two hours behind.” 

You felt lighter after food. Warmth settled over your chest and shoulders, and you huddled further into your blanket. 

Steve’s hair dried a little, and you managed to coax him into taking one of your spare hats. The stitches stretched over the circumference. With a sigh, you slowly ripped out the project you’d been knitting and cast more stitches onto your needle. 

The radio hadn’t worked, too far out of reach to hear the score, and it had been discarded. Instead, Steve hummed, and the fire crackled, and your needles clacked against one another. The rain had died down, too.

“Think we’ll find him?” He asked, picking at the frayed stitching on the baseball he’d been tossing around.

Your target was the missing tower keeper, a man named Les Joplin who hadn’t reported in a few days after he’d gone in search of what he had described to dispatch as a rotten cropping of trees in the east acreage. 

You glanced back up at Steve, never knowing if he wanted you to answer honestly or not. Your fingers kept pace. Knit, purl, knit, purl. “Hope so.”

“My grandmother used to knit.” He nodded to the project slowly making way in your hands. 

You hummed. You’d heard this story before. A few months back, you began to notice a pattern to the information Steve had given you about his former life, only snapshots, hand-picked. You wondered if he had been trained this way, or if he still didn’t trust you.

The repeated stories didn’t stop you from prying for more.

“What’d you call you grandmother?�� You asked.

“What do you mean?” He frowned back at you.

“You know, ‘grandma’, ‘granny’, ‘nana’?”

He snorted, rolled his eyes, tossed the ball a few times. “Grandmother.” 

You cocked a brow. “Grandmother? What, like the Queen?” 

There it was, the softest uptick of the corner of his lips, a flash of amusement in his eyes as he rolled them. “Exactly like the Queen. I was lucky if I got to address her as anything other than ‘ma’am’.” 

Another peak behind the curtain. You snickered and pressed on. “Mom or Dad’s mom?” 

“Uh…” He frowned again, mulling something over. “Mom’s. My dad’s parents were old as shit, died before I was born.” Another insight. 

“How’d they meet, your parents?” 

“Huh?” He blinked back at you, brow in a proper frown now. “I don’t know.” 

You’d lost him. You’d pressed too hard. With a sigh, you turned back to your knitting. Knit, purl. Knit, purl. 

He shook his head, and his sleeping bag shuffled as he stood and stretched. He set the baseball back on the little table, and it rolled until it met the pot of leftover spaghetti sauce. “Listen, I’m gonna take a leak, and we should probably think about getting some sleep. Early morning tomorrow.” 

You nodded, tucked your knitting back into your bag. “I’ll wash the dishes.” 

“Thank you.” He said, and he exited the little hut. The stairs creaked his whole way down. 

“Robin? No. No, Robin, no.” 

You awoke to Steve’s muffled cries. His sleeping bag shifted around a twitching body.

This wasn’t the first nightmare, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. You didn’t know who Robin was, and the fear in his voice dimmed your hope that she’d lived.

You swallowed to clear the sleep from your vocal cords before speaking his name into the darkness. It took several tries, a full shout, to snap him out of whatever version of Hell his subconscious had pulled him in, and when he did rouse, it was with force.

He shot from his pillow, gripping the hilt of a knife stashed under it, and glanced around the room. “What is it? What’s wrong?” 

You sighed, tucked your face into your pillow, and murmured. “I’m cold.” 

“What?” He peered at you. 

It wasn’t a lie. The fire had gone out, and your toes had numbed slightly, and you’d argued with him when he agreed to the floor, so you were sure he was cold too. Maybe that had caused the nightmare. “I’m cold. Will you just get over here, please?”

You heard his groan, and a shuffle of sleeping bag as he pulled himself upright. His back and shoulders were silhouetted, broad and hunched. He wound his sleeping bag up between his fists, joints cracking as he made his way over to your cot. 

“Is there room?”

You shifted impossibly closer to the wall and hugged your sleeping bag to you to expose just how much room was left on the little cot. Not much, if you were being honest, but you were cold, and you had hoped your presence beside him might calm the terrors that plagued him.

He spread his blanket out beside you before asking if you needed a sip of water. 

You shook your head, but watched as he ambled across the room to the rickety card table for a swig from the canteen. 

The rain had stopped, but fog blanketed the windows on all sides. The sloshing of the water in his bottle sent a shiver through you.

“Alright, I’m coming,” he grumbled, and returned to slide himself into bed beside you. 

His arm came up first, once he’d settled, and you stiffened under his hold.

“What’re you doing?” You rubbed at tired eyes, trying to catch any glimpse of the curve of his nose.

“Warming you up, don’t make it weird.” He looped you in, scooping your sleeping bag up between the two of you. His other arm reached around your middle and pulled you close.

You weren’t surprised at his strength. He’d offered you a helping hand with more than one injury in the field. You’d seen him pull women and children from burning buildings. That one time he hauled a sheepdog from the river, both man and beast soaking wet and panting, dog tossed around his broad shoulders. 

“Better?” His gruff voice fanned your forehead, deliciously warm. 

You hummed, reaching aching cold hands out to warm against his chest. 

He hissed under your touch and wrapped your fingers up in his own. “Didn’t I tell you to sleep next to the fire?” He scolded.

“No,” you hummed, letting your eyes grow heavy again. “You told me to take the cot.” 

He grumbled something incoherent and adjusted on the tiny pad beside you. You knew he’d complain about a crick in his neck in the morning. 

“Night, Steve,” you mumbled. 

His nose tipped itself against your temple, and he sighed. “Get some sleep.” 

He slept after that. 

—

The rain made rivulets of mud and Earth. Where trails once climbed the mountainside, rocks and boulders now fell, surging into teeming river beds. 

Your boots squelched beneath you, each step a slip away from disaster. 

Steve stood a few yards ahead, more surefooted. He whipped at overgrowth with the business end of a machete. “Joplin!” He cried out, startling a few birds from their perches.

You glanced around, hand around the gun strapped to your thigh, just in case. If Joplin was eaten by a bear out here, or worse, you had to have confidence in protecting yourselves. “Les!”

Steve called your name. He stood with his machete extended, scrubbing at his tired eyes with the palm of his other hand. 

Just beyond him, the forest had been blighted. Root to crown, these massive conifers were decimated. A widow maker forest, limbs fell at odd angles, having melted from the trunk. Green grass and fern and vine turned to black ash. 

You cursed under your breath and took careful steps to meet your partner to ensure the ground didn’t swallow you whole. When you reached him, the rancid stench stung in your nostrils, watered your eyes. “Well, guess he wasn’t kidding.” 

You glanced back up to the fire tower, now a mere speck on the horizon. 

Steve’s jaw clenched. He nodded. “I’m gonna look for holes. Call it in, will you?” 

With a sigh, you stripped the heavy pack from your back. Your shoulders ached in relief. “Be careful.” You warned, and watched as he took off at a slower pace into the patch of rot. 

You kept an eye on him as you dialed, service spotty, but you were quickly patched through to dispatch. “Yeah, hi.” You offered up your badge number, called in reinforcements for a controlled burn. 

“How big is the affected area?” The woman on the other lined cracked her gum between her molars. 

You glanced around at the rot. This was small, relatively fresh. A chill rolled down your spine. You looked from Steve to the blanket of mist rolling downhill from the clouds. “About ten acres.”

“Alright, hon, we’ll get someone out there in the next day or so. Are you in need of emergency evac?” 

“No, we’re good to hang out until the crew gets here. Thank you.” She hung up first, and you pushed the antenna back into the device. Before you could shove it back into your bag, however, you heard a cry, a moan, really, in the distance, carried on the wind, prickling the hairs at the base of your neck.

“Steve?” You called out, standing up straight to survey the area. 

You heard it again, to your left.

You swung around. Steve was gone. You were alone.

You took off on a run to where you’d last seen him, careful not to trip over any loose roots, trying not to bump any more precariously hung branches from their roosts hundreds of feet in the air. You called for your partner, still clutching the piece at your side in one hand, the satellite phone in the other. 

The noise was louder now, a grunt and a groan, two noises, two distinct voices. 

You stopped, surveyed your surroundings, posted up on the good side of a half-rotted stump. 

“Can you walk?” Steve’s voice hissed from nearby. 

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. You swung around, gun out, pointed toward the sound. 

“I broke it,” another voice, unfamiliar, croaked. They were beneath you. 

Rounding the stump, you found a hollowed out bit of ground wherein your partner was hacking away at the vines curled around the leg of an emaciated older man. This man was coated in mud and slime, curled hair sticking to his head. You sighed in relief and holstered your weapon. 

“Les Joplin?” You asked, taking a few steps to the edge of the hole. 

Both men jumped. Steve frowned back up at you before hacking away at another root. 

Les gulped, nodded. Shit, you’d left your pack at the edge of the rot. 

“Think you can limp it back to more solid ground? I’m going to call for an airlift.” You uncurled your knuckles from around the phone to dispatch the antenna and dial the number again. 

Les winced, teeth grit, sweat streaking the mud on his forehead.

You pulled your partner’s gaze. His jaw ticked. He pushed hair from his eyes with the back of his hand. He nodded, threw the man’s arm over broad shoulders. “Alright, count of three?” 

—

The rain came back as the air lift set down. Propellers pummeled large drops at you, sideways rain that stuck your clothes to your skin and cut off your breath.

You squeezed Les’s wrist as they strapped him to the gurney. His teeth chattered, face gray beneath a shiny mylar blanket. The ventilator obscured everything but his eyes, tired, frantic. 

Steve spoke to the team. He was shouting, but you couldn’t hear his voice over the wind and the slap of rain. 

Your hair stuck to the corners of your mouth.

Steve backed up to your front, shielding you behind his slim frame. He lifted a hand to wave as the helicopter ascended, clouds bending and melting beneath it. 

When it was a high enough altitude, Steve linked a large hand around your wrist and tugged you upwards, through wind-whipped grass and mud, toward the lonesome fire tower. 

The stairs were just as slick as the grass, and Steve kept a firm grip at your waist. To hold you upright or himself, you weren’t sure, but you felt anchored nonetheless.

When you finally summited, the world around you coated in a thick, grey cloud, you began to strip the soaked clothes from your body. Steve began to lodge firewood from the corner of the room into the little stove. 

“We have to go back out there,” he grunted, lighting a match to kindling before tossing it in. 

You groaned, unsticking your long-sleeve shirt from your back to wheel it over your head. “After lunch.” You pled.

You tried to stand your ground and not cower as Steve’s gaze swept your frame. He licked at pink lips, hair stuck to his face, his own clothes three shades darker than they were when you’d left the tower that morning. 

“After lunch.” He conceded, unbuttoning his shirt. You watched his back muscles shift beneath the outline of a white tank top, the moles placed hither and thither. 

You slipped a dry t-shirt over your head and began boiling water in a pot.

Steve’s knees were pulled to his chest, toes wiggling in dry socks. 

You finished first, famished from your earlier excursion, and continued your knitting. The rhythmic clack of needles a metronome to the rain against the tin roof and pouring from spouts, the crackle of the fire, the steady in-take-out-take of your breath. 

Steve eyed you warily, cheeks puffed around a meatball. He chewed, swallowed, and gestured with a fork toward the project in your lap. “What’re you making?” 

“A hat,” you pinched your smile.

He reached between you to wrap thick fingers around the ball of yarn like a baseball. He pressed the fiber for a moment before nodding, licking something from between his molars. “I really like that color.” 

You agreed. The burgundy would bring out the warmth of his eyes, the flush of his cheeks when he bickered with you.

“It felt good right? Helping Joplin.” 

His words startled you, stitch slipping off the needle before you could catch it. 

You blinked back at him, watched the worry etched between his brows, wondered what he could possibly be thinking, and you forced a bright smile. “Yeah, Steve, it felt great. That’s what this is all about, right? Saving people.” 

He nodded, shrugged, tongued at his molars. 

You can’t save everyone.

You picked your stitch back up and carried on. A few phrases turned in your mind, questions you’d posed to yourself before you dared ask him. ‘Doesn’t every save feel good?’ ‘Do you think Les’s leg’ll be okay?’ ‘Who couldn’t you save?’

You glanced to the spot on the floor where he had been tossing and turning the night before. ‘Who’s Robin?’ You couldn’t. You knew he’d throw himself into one of those broody nightmares, and you had a job to do. 

“So,” you bundled your knitting and stuffed it back into the bag you brought it in, “what’re we thinking? Demodog? Demogorgon? Grizzly?”

“Yeah, you wish it’s a Grizzly.” Steve snorted, making to wash the dishes. 

You did wish it was a Grizzly. At least you could shoot a Grizzly, watch it fall with a groan and lie peaceful against hard ground. Demodogs meant tunnel dwellers, a pack. Demogorgon meant portals. 

“Hey, before we head out there, can I ask you something?” He stood with his hands full of items to be washed, hair finally drying into wisps of curls near his ears. 

“Shoot,” you pulled yourself to a stand, rolled your stiff shoulders, got a little closer to the stove to warm your hands.

“Do I talk in my sleep?” 

You had half a second to make your decision, and “No” came out faster than that. You weren’t sure why you lied, maybe it was the same reason you hadn’t asked him about the name he’d been crying out for. You had a job to do, and you couldn’t afford a sulking partner ten steps ahead. 

His scowl proved he was weighing you up, trying to call your bluff. Apparently he convinced, he shrugged, and said, “Oh, well, you do.” Then he opened the creaky door and let himself outside to do the washing up.

—

The rain continued as you hunted. You slipped twice, twisting an ankle on a bunch of rocks hidden behind tall grass, but you’d had worse, so you persisted until the internal ache wore off and the external ache from the cold had you gritting your teeth. 

“I fucking hate this place.” Steve dropped another meatball into the grass beside you. “It reminds me of that…” He glanced around, in the air, searching for phantom airborne monsters.

You hadn’t gone into the other dimension, not for long enough to really get a feel for it, not like Steve. You knew it was cold and damp and miserable though, and these mountains were starting to feel just as desolate, just as grey. 

You came to the rot again, stench heavier under the blanket of ozone. 

Steve pressed his lips into a whistle, low and slow, coaxing whatever may be lurking. 

Your finger found the trigger at your hip. Bullets didn’t kill an inter dimensional creature, but it’d sure as Hell slow it down.  

Without a response to his call, you carried on, following him and his endless trail of meatballs past the stump in which you’d found Les Joplin. Steve poked his head inside, but vines had already begun to seam it up, devouring the flesh of the tree that rot there. 

“Do you remember what direction he said he saw it?” You asked, back to Steve as you surveyed the area. It could be anywhere, whatever it is. It was probably watching you now, smelling you, sensing you. 

“Let’s head East,” Steve signaled.

You doubled back and headed toward a particularly treacherous outcropping along the hillside. Boulders carved rivulets in the landscape, water gushing over rock and stone in glorious splendor.

Your big toes were beginning to ache from the cold, and the sound of rain and wind and now waterfalls was hurting your ears. With a huff, you seated yourself on a soaked rock and pulled your pack from your back to salvage a chocolate bar. 

“What’re you doing?” Steve snapped. He’d already trudged a good distance from you, and must have stopped when he didn’t hear the patter of your feet behind him. 

“Maybe it was a deer,” you offered, ripping back the mylar packaging and indulging in one semi-sweet bite. It didn’t melt instantly, your teeth and jaw too cold to warm it.

“It wasn’t a deer.” That permanent crease in Steve’s forehead stuck out under a curl of wet hair. 

“Come have a bite.” Your teeth chattered, hand extended. The chocolate was instantly pelted with rain.

Steve sighed and took a step toward you, and then promptly disappeared.

—

The cavern was deep, about ten feet high and thirty feet wide, a whole expanse of the forest that had just sunk in on itself. It looked like the vines hadn’t quite worked their way here, but the blight and the rain had washed away bits of the mountainside. The outcropping fell into the land and Steve had fallen into the rocks.

“Don’t come any closer!” He shouted, teeth grit in pain. He adjusted his leg, and you saw the blood spill from his knee cap to discolor his pant legs. 

“I’m going to radio for help. How bad is it? Do you need to tourniquet it?”

“No , it’s just a scrape.” He lied through his teeth. “I can’t see how far this goes, so go slow, and be careful.” 

With a nod, you made for your pack, muttering under your breath about your bossy partner, always getting himself into trouble. Then the breath was swept out of you as you free-fell into the cavern, too. 

Your ankles rolled, the one from earlier crying out from added injury, and you jaw slammed closed on a portion of your tongue when you hit the cavern floor. It was softer than you expected, wet mud and dirt breaking most of your fall. 

Your name echoed with the pounding of your heart as you regulated and pull yourself to a stand, brushing mud from your hands to your thighs. Water rushed into the cavern from above. Not enough to cause concern, but you stared up at the hole in the sky with a grimace. 

Steve called your name again, and you turned to face him. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, eyes wide with worry. 

You shrugged, nodded. “My ankle hurts.” 

“Is it broken?” 

You assessed the injury, tried to roll it back into place. A sharp, shooting pain spilled up your spinal column. You nodded. “Probably.” 

“I told you to be careful.” Steve scoffed from his lean against the far wall. He’d made no effort to rescue you.

“Is your leg broken?” You mapped your way to him, a slow and steady course through rocky terrain. Each step limped, you gripped the roots tied into the walls beside you. 

“No,” Steve shook his head. “Just a bad cut.” His large hand shook, pressed to a gash that was dying the rainwater red. 

“Well,” you sighed, “if the meatballs weren’t good enough…”

“Shut up,” he shifted in place, hand outstretched to help you over the last huge boulder. “Careful, sharp bit there.” He nodded to a likely culprit, a jagged bit of rock that stuck up at an odd angle. An odd substance pooled near the bottom, and you tried not to wretch when you realized it was likely the fat from Steve’s thigh. 

“We need to get you off your feet.” You instructed, carrying his weight to help him find a good bit of stone that was flat enough, but not too slippery for him to rest. It proved to be quite the undertaking. 

“It stopped raining,” he mused when he’d settled, the two of you wedged into a pit of mud that looked out of the gaping mouth onto grey skies. 

He was right. You hadn’t noticed it beneath the swell of water surging downhill, and the patter that continued on the other edge of the cave, but the rain had stopped, or at least slowed.

“Did you play baseball in high school?” You asked, picking through the rubble for a hefty enough sized rock. 

“Why?” Steve asked, perturbed by your questioning, but you noticed, for once, he didn’t have the energy to argue. 

You could imagine him playing baseball, chewing sunflower seeds in the dug out, hiking around the bases in those tight little white pants. You smiled and tossed him the rock. 

He caught it one-handed, clearly annoyed you’d thrown it in the first place. 

You pointed to the spot you fell. “Throw it really hard. My pack’s up there. Might knock it into the hole.” 

“Your pack-!?” Steve closed his eyes, took a few calming breaths. Then he shot you a look before hocking the rock as far as he could throw. It was very impressive. 

You both waited with bated breath, but the impact created no further damaged, and you slumped into one another, asses wet and legs throbbing. “I have my flare,” you explained, patting the inside pocket of your jacket. You always kept one, and a lighter, filled, just in case.

Steve sighed. “Me too.” He was just loopy enough to flash you a tired smile. 

“Alright, big boy,” you shook at his bicep to keep him alert and shrugged out of your jacket to remove your sweater. The air was warmer down her, and damp. Your breath fogged. “You’re going to have to stay awake until morning. So it’s time to tell me a story.”

Steve winced with each adjustment as you wrapped your sweater around his leg to aid with pressure. His hands still trembled, flesh of his palms bloodied, and you elevated his leg a little higher, pushing him into the mud at his back. 

“What kind of story?” He asked, teeth chattering. 

You hunched beside him and took both of his bloody hands into your own. The whole place smelled of Earth and iron. “Tell me about Indiana.”

He groaned and rolled his eyes.

“Come on. What position were you on the baseball team?” 

He grit his teeth and shook his head. “I didn’t play baseball. Track and field.”

You smiled and unzipped his coat to let yourself in, arms wrapped around his trembling frame. You pressed your face to his throat, nestled under the crook of his jaw where stubble had begun to poke and scratch. “Alright, tell me about that then. Did your high school sweetheart cheer you on from the stands? Steve, Steve, he’s our man, if he can’t do it, no one can!” You actually managed to rah a chuckle out of him.

He winced again, his chin bouncing into your head. “She wasn’t a cheerleader. She was on the school paper.” 

You changed your tone, put on a Trans-Atlantic accent. “Aaaaand they’re off. Steve Harrington takes the lead. Have you ever seen anything quicker on its feet? A horse, maybe.”

He snorted, swung his arm around you. “Has anyone ever told you how obnoxious you are?”

“You have,” you nodded. “A number of times. Kind of rude, actually. I’m always saving your ass.” 

He chuckled and mumbled an apology into your hair. 

“What else can you tell me about Indiana?” Your own exhaustion had begun to creep around the corners of your mind, hearing the dull thud of Steve’s heartbeat match the ache in your ankle and shin and thigh. 

When he didn’t respond, you prodded at his chest. “Steve.”

He shushed you, gripping your arm a little tighter. 

You were suddenly very alert. You could hear birdsong just over the ripple and rush of water over the rocks. You heard it too, the distinct clicking growl of a flower-faced beast. 

“Can you move?” Steve muttered into your hair, barely a whisper.

You nodded, swallowed, reached for the flare at your side.

“My knife,” he said. “Can you see it?” He nodded to where you’d found him.

You shifted in his arms, hoping the beast couldn’t hear the grunt he emitted between clenched molars. There, where rubble met a river of mud, you saw the glint of his knife. 

With a deep breath and a strain of every muscle in your body, you hoisted yourself onto your good leg and began your precarious hobble to your weapon. The rocks twisted under your feet, and the pain churned your stomach. 

“Easy,” Steve guided, his breath shallow. “You’ve got this.” 

You managed to dip yourself low enough, balanced on one leg, to wrap your fingers around the hilt and lift it from the rubble. You caught yourself on the wall and released a breath you’d been holding. 

The knife was a bit muddy, but mostly fine. It glinted in the diminishing sunlight, flashing the walls a pale pink red before your heard the call again. A rattled click preceded the visage that peered over the cavern mouth. 

The dog’s face opened, all teeth and fleshy flower petals, and before Steve had a chance to instruct you, the thing was on you, and you were elbow-deep in Demodog. It’s teeth scraped and tore at the nylon of your parka and one final dying breath rattled from its small frame before it squelched off of your blade and to the ground.

“It’s not alone.” Steve warned from his spot on the floor.

You nodded, grit your teeth, and readied your stance for another. 

—

Three demodogs died at your hands and burned. The acrid sting of burning flesh kept you awake, your body rejoicing at the warmth.

You managed to keep Steve awake, although his skin had paled and his eyelids drooped. 

The smoke alerted the helicopter before your flare did. 

Oxygen mask over your face, you linked your fingertips into Steve’s and offered him a smile. He was already asleep by the time you rose, higher and higher above cloud coverage and rain. You slipped up and away from the fire tower. Up and away from verdant hills and from rot and decay. 

Steve’s grasp was loose in your hand, and you wondered what he dreamt about now. You hoped it was peaceful. 

You finished his hat beside his hospital bed while you watched the latest game. Someone ran a home run. Steve cheered. You looped the last few stitches together and weaved in your ends. 

“This is for you,” you tossed it onto his lap. The burgundy was stark against white sheets. 

Steve frowned back at you, fingers toying with the fabric. “For me?” 

You nodded. “You needed a wool hat. Just put it on and be grateful.” 

He did as instructed, smile refusing to play on handsome features. He cocked an eyebrow to get your input. It was exactly as you’d hoped, a sweet contrast that a brought out the honeyed brown of his eyes, the flush of his cheeks. 

You bit back a smile, rolled your eyes. “Maybe you’re right. Your ego doesn’t need this boost. Give it back.” 

He smiled at that, a ruefully shy thing that had your heart pitter-pattering like rain on a tin roof. “No. It’s mine.” 

“Steve,” you let your question linger on your tongue for a moment, wondering if you ought to ask it, if you ought to push. 

He hummed, attention drawn back to the television. 

You swallowed, let the question die. Maybe another day, you’d find out who Robin was, what happened to them. 

“Yeah?” He glanced back at you, brown eyes wide with concern. 

You smiled. “What did I say in my sleep?” 

Once again, the corners of pink lips turned up, and he shook his head. “I’ll never tell.” 

---

Moodboard • 00: Prologue • 02: Home [Coming Soon]

[clovercrafted]

🌺🌿 the flowering azalea tavern 🌿🌺

In terms of interior there is no interior. But the exterior is pretty and it came out exactly how I wanted it too! Was not expecting to use dark prismarine for this, the original plan was gonna be green concrete but then I thought it’d be too similar to my last build, ah well!

Tag list ☘️ (ask to be +/-): @gronglegrowth @flyingfish1234 @absintheaftershock @pumpkinicing @adairctedgibbgirl @tend-rmeat @lesbianpercyblofis @yourfriendphoenix @entomolodee @grymmdark @polnareffsbrows @podcasts-on-the-brain @sculkgrowths @berieecraft @asynchronouscommunication

blocks used below v

Walls: granite, polished granite, bricks, terracotta, dark prismarine

Roof: oxidised copper, oxidised cut copper stairs, oxidised cut copper slab, prismarine stairs, prismarine slab, light blue concrete powder, warped wart block, warped planks, warped plank slab, warped plank stairs, prismarine bricks, prismarine brick slab, prismarine brick stairs, dark prismarine, dark prismarine stairs, dark prismarine slab Frame and Windows: oak log, oak planks, oak slab, oak stairs, oak trapdoors, white stained glass panes, light blue stained glass panes

Extra Decor: flowering azalea, flowering azalea leaves, azalea leaves, plantpot, jungle trapdoor, spruce trapdoor, moss, hanging roots, allium, peony, vines, glow lichen, grass, long grass, barrels, jungle fence, jungle gates, brick wall, granite wall, lanterns, glow berries, brick slab, granite slab, polished granite slab Path: moss, green wool, moss carpet, mossy cobblestone, stone button, ferns

[911style]

Evan Buckley | 7x05 You Don't Know Me Closed Wool-Mix Jacket in Fern Green $680 | Assembly, on sale

[foggysilverfeathers]

Hermit Permit Masterlist

! This is a WIP due to not every hermit’s video being out yet !

! This is also not yet up to date with any trades, please let me know if any have happened that aren’t on this list !

Bdubs:

Cub: Nylium, White Glass, Amethyst, Purple Terracotta, All Horns, Prismarine

Doc: Magma, Blue Glass, Dirt, Blaze Rods, Pots and Sherds, All Dyes (and flowers)

Etho:

False: Totems, Saddles, All Nether Plants, Glow Lichen, Pink Terracotta, All Concrete, JOKER

Gem: Clay, All Nether Bricks, Yellow Glass, Moss, Tridents, All Coral

Scar: Orange Glass, Light Grey Wool, Cyan Glass, Black Terracotta, Bricks, Sand and Gravel

Grian: Leads and Bundles, Red Sand products, Campfires, All Ice, Mushroom Blocks, Iron and Gold

Hypno: Grey Glass, Cobble, Lava Buckets, Green Terracotta, Coarse Dirt, Tough Stuff (e.g obsidian, ender chests, etc.)

Jevin:

Impulse: Brown Glass, Brown Wool, Grass, Light Grey Terracotta, Red Terracotta, Quartz

Iskall: Purple Glass, Horse Armour, Cut Grass, TNT, White Terracotta, Rockets (flight)

Joe: White Wool, F Tier Books (e.g Bane of Arthropods), Black Glass, All Leaves, Nametags, Oak and Birch Logs

Keralis:

Mumbo:

Pearl: Mossy Cobble, Magenta Wool, Purpur, Bone Blocks, Grey Terracotta, All Templates (i.e armour trims)

Ren: Rails, Lily Pads, Light Grey Glass, Diorite, Honeycomb, Conduits and Beacons

Skizz:

Joel:

Stress: End Rods, Coal, Light Green Glass, Blue Terracotta, Deepslate, Packed Mud

Tango:

Beef: Dripleaf, Book and Quill, Basalt, Light blue Terracotta, Shulkers, Warped and Crimson Stem

Wels: Light Blue Glass, Red Glass, Stone, Magenta Terracotta, Blackstone, Redstone #2

XB: Cyan Wool, Black Wool, Ferns, Cyan Terracotta, Granite, All Food

Xisuma: Lime Wool, Grey Wool, All Bucket Mobs (e.g Axolotls), Rooted Dirt, Yellow Terracotta,

Zedaph:

Cleo: Red Wool, Soul Sand and Soul Soil, Hay bales, Orange Terracotta, Lime Terracotta, S Tier Books (e.g Mending)

[theluckywizard]

WIP Whenever

Thank you for the tag, @delicatefade!

Today I've got a weird dream sequence I've been working on for the next chapter of my long fic, In the Shattering of Things! The anchor is starting to give Rose a startling clarity to her dreams and her dreams are just getting warmed up with their weirdness and portent. This one features Solas and Hawke. CW for mild animal gore

The air hangs heavily amongst the evergreens, the scent of trodden ferns mingling with salt. Tree branches bare of their needles in the shade of the crown lace together so thickly that one must break branches to pass through. I hum while I work, mother’s hymn, deft downward strokes of my knife cutting into flesh and then cartilage. The creature swings slightly as I work it, its drizzling blood striping the moss beneath it. I grip it by a handful of copper fur, preparing to remove its innards with delicate maneuvers like any other small mammal. “My lady Herald,” comes a voice behind me, even and mellifluous. An arm clad in dove gray wool reaches beyond me. Solas covers my hand in his his, stilling my work. “Allow me,” he says. He comes alongside me and gripping the fox by its spine, reaches two bare fingers inside, searching and wrenching, guts squelching, blood painting his hand. I’m mute as I watch him, digging, pausing to assess and digging again until at last he withdraws the tiny heart and jerks it free of the tissue that binds it. He holds it out to me in his suddenly clean palm, a flawless strawberry with yellow seeds dotting its glossy red surface. “That’s my brother,” I inform him, my voice filled with pride. Solas smiles strangely and then bringing it to his lips, bites into the heart, the strawberry, the heart. My brother Jaime. It’s his heart. He then offers it to me. No. “Just think of the power,” he says. “It should be yours.” I shake my head again and again, backing away from Solas, gripping my knife— father’s knife— left hand outstretched. He follows, the heart, the fruit extended to me. Blood trails from his mouth onto his tunic. He’s going to force me. This is a dream, I realize. This is a dream. But the realization slips from me just as quickly. I don’t want to be a mage. The anchor opens hungrily, its energy surging over the top of him in this tiny clearing, the shrieking and hissing of it drowning out everything else. But it’s close. It’s too close, bathing both of us in the unsettling viridian luminescence of the Fade as it licks at us, drawing at our essence. The anchor sparks and flares along the chains up my arm, tendrils of green snaking toward me and then across my chest. My rift rends Solas apart, yanking first on his soul and then on his body, stretching a facsimile of him in a stream into the rift. It’s going to take me too, my rift. But I’m resigned to it as the fingers of harsh green light racing across my skin claim more of me. There’s no pain— why is there no pain? When I look up again, Solas dissolves before me in a streak of ash. Safe from the offering at least. Behind where he was a figure thrashes through the underbrush, snapping through the branches that weave together thickly. I recognize him by his outrageous height first, and the way he moves confirms it. Hawke. His piercing blue gaze fixes to mine with something like desperation. His lips move but his words are buried under the deafening crackle and hum of the rift. “Hawke, help me!” I call out to him. He breaks branches with fumbling hands but the evergreen undergrowth thickens between us, undergrowth weaving tighter. The anchor spreads still, the rivers of light that streak across my skin flooding wider like they might merge. Hawke snaps branches at a desperate clip but he’s soon imprisoned behind it, cut off from me. Trapped. Suddenly he’s filthy and haggard, clothes ragged, face claimed by an overgrown beard. Cave chic. Defeated, he words something to me just before he disappears behind branches. But I can’t read lips. And then I’m consumed by light.

Note: the "Cave Chic" line is a reference to how Alistair described his look upon finding him in a similar state in Crestwood the day before. Tagging @skyeventide, @rowanisawriter, @greypetrel, @leggywillow, @the-rebel-archivist, @nirikeehan, @crackinglamb, @ammoniteflesh and YOU!

I want to see what you're working on (DA or otherwise!) 🥰

[cyberneticlagomorph]

[A video is posted of the aftermath of the Green Rain.

Every plant the rain touched has grown wild and huge.

Chest high grasses, blankets of moss as thick as a sheep's wool, the curling tops of fiddlehead ferns the size of bowling balls, mushrooms and dandelions towering as high as trees.

Vines snarl and snake across the ruined buildings in the background, hanging heavy with thick leaves and even more moss and lichens.

A small white blur races past the camera and up the trunk of a mushroom tree. It's Egg, her ears are back, and there's a knife in her teeth.]

[birdstudies]

January 22, 2023 - Brown-cheeked Fulvetta (Alcippe poioicephala) Found across parts of South and northern Southeast Asia, these fulvettas inhabit hill and mountain forests. Foraging in flocks, often with other species, they eat insects, including ants, as well as nectar. They build deep cup-shaped nests from green moss, dry leaves, grass, roots, plant fibers, thin twigs, and sometimes spiderweb, lichen, or wool in bushes, saplings, bamboo, or ferns. Both parents incubate the clutches of two or three eggs.

[dollypartonswig]

update on my stardew valley challenge!🥔🍓

I have to reach perfection but I can only sell items in a stack of 999 and my profit margin is set to 25%

I’m currently in summer year 7

horseradish / daffodil / leek / dandelion / parsnip / cave carrot / coconut / cactus / banana / sap / large egg W / egg W / egg B / large egg B / milk / milk L / green bean / cauliflower / potato / garlic / kale / rhubarb / melon / tomato / morel / blueberry / fiddlehead fern / hot pepper / wheat / radish / red cabbage / starfruit / corn / unmilled rice / eggplant / artichoke / pumpkin / bok choy / yam / chanterelle / cranberry / holly / beet / ostrich egg / salmon berry / amaranth / pale ale / hops / void egg / mayonnaise / duck mayonnaise / void mayonnaise / clay / copper bar / iron bar / gold bar / iridium bar / refined quartz / honey / pickles / jam / beer / wine / juice / poppy / copper ore / iron ore / coal / gold / iridium ore

wood / stone / nautilus shell / coral / rainbow shell / spice berry / sea urchin / grape / spring onion / strawberry / sweet pea / common mushroom / wild plum / hazelnut / blackberry / winter root / crystal fruit / snow yam / sweet gem berry / crocus / red mushroom / sunflower / purple mushroom / cheese / goats cheese / cloth / truffle / truffle oil / coffee bean / goat milk S / goat milk L / wool / duck egg / duck feather / caviar / rabbit foot / aged roe / ancient fruit / mead / tulip (all colours)/ summer spangle / fairy rose / blue jazz / apple / tea / apricot / orange / peach / pomegranate / cherry / bug meat / hardwood / maple syrup / oak resin / pine tar / slime / bat wing / solar essence / void essence / fibre / battery pack / dinosaur mayonnaise / roe / squid ink / tea leaves / ginger / taro root / pineapple / mango / cinder shard

magma cap / bone shard / radioactive ore / radioactive bar / smoked fish / moss / mystic syrup / raisins / dried fruit / dried mushrooms / carrots / summer squash / broccoli / powder melon

Green is complete

Purple I have 999 but haven’t shipped yet

Red I haven’t even started / I have less than 400

Blue is nearly complete

White I don’t have acces to yet (i’m still in 1.5) although I have been trying to prep for the update, so far I have about 600 fish ready to be smoked and I’ve been collecting common mushrooms, grapes and pineapples for drying

[warriors-rewritten-chaos]

Warrior Cats Suffixes- F

I had a WC Name Generator on Perchance that I made but I don't seem to have access anymore, so I'm remaking it here as just a simple list. The definitions used are the ones that Clan cats have for those things, and thus are the origins of the names. Definitions used are whatever I found when I googled it.

-fade: "[verb] gradually grow faint and disappear; [noun] the process of becoming less bright"

-fall: "[verb] move downward, typically rapidly and freely without control, from a higher to a lower level; [noun] an act of falling or collapsing; a sudden uncontrollable descent"

-fang: "[noun] a large sharp tooth, especially a canine tooth of a dog or wolf; [noun] the tooth of a venomous snake, by which poison is injected; [noun] the biting mouthpart of a spider"

-feather: "[noun] any of the flat appendages growing from a bird's skin and forming its plumage"

-fern: "[noun] a flowerless plant which has feathery or leafy fronds"

-field: "[noun] an area of open land, especially one planted with crops or pasture, typically bounded by hedges or fences"

-fin: "[noun] a flattened appendage on various parts of the body of many aquatic vertebrates and some invertebrates, including fish and cetaceans, used for propelling, steering, and balancing"

-fir: "[noun] an evergreen coniferous tree with upright cones and flat needle-shaped leaves, typically arranged in two rows"

-fire: "[noun] combustion or burning, in which substances combine chemically with oxygen from the air and typically give out bright light, heat, and smoke"

-fish: "[noun] a limbless cold-blooded vertebrate animal with gills and fins and living wholly in water"

-flake: "[noun] a small, flat, thin piece of something, typically one that has broken away or been peeled off from a larger piece"

-flame: "[noun] a hot glowing body of ignited gas that is generated by something on fire"

-flash: "[verb] move or pass very quickly; [noun] a sudden brief burst of bright light or a sudden glint from a reflective surface"

-flax: "[noun] a blue-flowered herbaceous plant that is cultivated for its seed and for textile fiber made from its stalks"

-fleck: "[noun] a very small patch of color or light; [verb] mark or dot with small patches of color or particles of something"

-flick: "[noun] a sudden sharp movement"

-flicker: "[verb] make small, quick movements; flutter rapidly; [noun] an unsteady movement of a flame or light that causes rapid variations in brightness"

-flight: "[noun] the action or process of flying through the air; [noun] a flock or large body of birds or insects in the air, especially when migrating"

-flood: "[noun] an overflowing of a large amount of water beyond its normal confines, especially over what is normally dry land"

-flower: "[noun] the seed-bearing part of a plant, consisting of reproductive organs (stamens and carpels) that are typically surrounded by a brightly colored corolla (petals) and a green calyx"

-fluff: "[noun] soft fibers from things such as wool or cotton which accumulate in small light clumps"

-flurry: "[noun] a small swirling mass of something, especially snow or leaves, moved by sudden gusts of wind"

-flutter: "[verb] (of a bird or other winged creature) fly unsteadily or hover by flapping the wings quickly and lightly"

-foam: "[noun] a mass of small bubbles formed on or in liquid, typically by agitation or fermentation"

-fog: "[noun] a thick cloud of tiny water droplets suspended in the atmosphere at or near the earth's surface which obscures or restricts visibility"

-foot: "[noun] the lower extremity of the leg below the ankle, on which a person stands or walks"

-fox: "[noun] a carnivorous mammal of the dog family with a pointed muzzle and bushy tail, proverbial for its cunning"

-freckle: "[noun] a small patch of light brown color on the skin, often becoming more pronounced through exposure to the sun"

-frond: "[noun] the leaf or leaflike part of a palm, fern, or similar plant"

-frost: "[noun] a deposit of small white ice crystals formed on the ground or other surfaces when the temperature falls below freezing"

-fur: "[noun] the short, fine, soft hair of certain animals"

-fuzz: "[noun] a fluffy or frizzy mass of hair or fiber"

[tardigrass]

my first humanoid needle felting project 🌱 this fern needs serious reworking but i have plenty of green wool to make our favorite green knight more like himself

[imsociallyanxiousgetoverit]

List of all SDV and SDV:E (Stardew Valley: Expanded) Giftable Items

Horseradish

Daffodil

Leek

Dandelion

Parsnip

Cave Carrot

Coconut

Cactus

Banana

Sap

Large Egg

Egg

Milk

Large Milk

Green Bean

Cauliflower

Potato

Garlic

Kale

Rhubarb

Melon

Tomato

Morsel

Blueberry

Fiddlehead Fern

Hot Pepper

Wheat

Radish

Red Cabbage

Starfruit

Corn

Rice

Eggplant

Artichoke

Pumpkin

Bokchoy

Yam

Chanterelle

Cranberry

Holly

Beets

Ostrich Egg

Salmonberry

Amouranth

Pale Ale

Hops

Void Egg

Mayonnaise

Duck Mayonnaise

Void Mayonnaise

Clay

Copper Bar

Silver Bar

Gold Bar

Iridium Bar

Refined Quartz

Honey

Pickles

Jam

Beer

Wine

Juice

Clam

Poppy

Copper Ore

Silver Ore

Coal

Gold Ore

Iridium Ore

Wood

Stone

Nautilus Shell

Coral

Summer Shell

Spice Berry

Sea Urchin

Grape

Spring Onion

Strawberry

Sweet Pea

Common Mushroom

Wild Plum

Hazelnut

Blackberry

Winter Root

Crystal Fruit

Snow Yam

Sweet Gem Berry

Crocus

Red Mushroom

Sunflower

Purple Mushroom

Cheese

Goat Cheese

Cloth

Truffle

Truffle Oil

Coffee Bean

Goat Milk

Large Goat Milk

Wool

Duck Egg

Duck Feather

Caviar

Lucky Rabbit’s Foot

Aged Roe

Ancient Fruit

Mead

Tulip

Summer Spangle

Fairy Rose

Blue Jazz

Apple

Green Tea

Apricot

Orange

Peach

Pomegranate

Cherry

Bug Meat

Hardwood

Maple Syrup

Oak Resin

Pine Tar

Slime

Bat Wing

Rusty Blade

Swirl Stone

Solar Essence

Void Essence

Void Pebble

Void Shard

Void Soul

Fiber

Battery

Dinosaur Mayonnaise

Roe

Squid Ink

Tea Leaves

Ginger

Taro Root

Pineapple

Mango

Cinder Shard

Magma Cap

Bone Fragment

Radioactive Ore

Radioactive Bar

Ancient Fiber

Bearberry

Conch

Dried Sand Dollar

Ferngill Primrose

Golden Ocean Flower

Goldenrod

Green Mushroom

Four-Leaf Clover

Monster Fruit

Monster Mushroom

Mushroom Colony

Poison Mushroom

Red Baneberry

Salal Berry

Slime Berry

Rafflesia

Sports Drink

Stamina Capsule

Thistle

Void Root

Winter Star Ross

Dewdrop Berry

Aged Blue Moon Wine

Blue Moon Wine

Aegis Elixir

Armor Elixir

Barbarian Elixir

Gravity Elixir

Haste Exilir

Hero Elixir

Lightning Elixir

Pufferfish

Anchovy

Tuna

Sardine

Bream

Largemouth Bass

Smallmouth Bass

Rainbow Trout

Salmon

Walleye

Perch

Carp

Catfish

Pike

Sunfish

Red Snapper

Herring

Eel

Octopus

Red Mullet

Squid

Seaweed

Green Algae

Seacucumber

Super Seacucumber

Ghost Carp

White Algae

Stone Fish

Crimsonfish

Angler

Icepip

Lava Eel

Legend

Sandfish

Scorpion Carp

Flounder

Midnight Carp

Mutant Carp

Sturgeon

Tiger Trout

Bullhead

Tilapia

Chub

Dorado

Albacore

Shad

Lingcod

Halibut

Lobster

Crayfish

Crab

Cockle

Mussel

Shrimp

Snail

Periwinkle

Oyster

Woodskip

Glacierfish

Void Salmon

Slimejack

Midnight Squid

Spookfish

Blobfish

Stingray

Lionfish

Blue Discus

Baby Lunaloo

Bonefish

Bull Trout

Butterfish

Clownfish

Daggerfish

Dulse Seaweed

Frog

Gemfish

Goldenfish

Grass Carp

King Salmon

Kittyfish

Lunaloo

Meteor Carp

Minnow

Puppyfish

Radioactive Bass

Razor Trout

Seahorse

Sea Sponge

Shiny Lunaloo

Snatcher Worm

Starfish

Torpedo Trout

Undeadfish

Void Eel

Water Grub

Dwarf Scroll 1

Dwarf Scroll 2

Dwarf Scroll 3

Dwarf Scroll 4

Chipped Amphora

Arrowhead

Ancient Doll

Elvish Jewelry

Chewing Stick

Ornamental Fan

Dinosaur Egg

Rare Disc

Ancient Sword

Rusty Spoon

Rusty Spur

Rusty Cog

Chicken Statue

Ancient Seed

Prehistoric Tool

Dried Starfish

Anchor

Glass Shards

Bone Flute

Prehistoric Handaxe

Dwarvish Helm

Dwarf Gadget

Ancient Drum

Golden Mask

Golden Relic

Strange Doll

Strange Doll

Prehistoric Scapula

Prehistoric Tibia

Prehistoric Skull

Skeletal Hand

Prehistoric Rib

Prehistoric Vertebrae

Skeletal Tail

Nautilus Shell

Amphibian Fossil

Palm Fossil

Trilobite

Emerald

Aquamarine

Ruby

Amethyst

Topaz

Jade

Diamond

Prismatic Shard

Quartz

Fire Quartz

Frozen Tear

Earth Crystal

Alamite

Bixite

Baryite

Aerinite

Calcite

Dolomite

Esperite

Fluorapatite

Geminite

Helvite

Jamborite

Jagoite

Kyanite

Lunarite

Malachite

Nepunite

Lemon Stone

Nekoite

Orpiment

Petrified Slime

Thunder Egg

Pyrite

Ocean Stone

Ghost Crystal

Tiger’s Eye

Jasper

Opal

Fire Opal

Celestine

Marble

Sandstone

Granite

Basalt

Limestone

Soapstone

Hematite

Mudstone

Obsidian

Slate

Fairy Stone

Star Shards

Fried Egg

Omelet

Salad

Cheese Cauliflower

Baked Fish

Parsnip Soup

Vegetable Medley

Complete Breakfast

Fried Calimari

Strange Bun

Lucky Lunch

Fried Mushrooms

Pizza

Bean Hotpot

Glazed Yams

Carp Surprise

Hashbrowns

Pancakes

Salmon Dinner

Fish Taco

Crispy Bass

Pepper Poppers

Bread

Tom Kha Soup

Trout Soup

Chocolate Cake

Pink Cake

Rhubarb Pie

Cookies

Spaghetti

Spicy Eel

Sashimi

Maki Roll

Tortilla

Red Plate

Eggplant Parmesan

Rice Pudding

Ice Cream

Bluberry Tart

Autumn’s Bounty

Pumpkin Soup

Super Meal

Cranberry Sauce

Stuffing

Farmer’s Lunch

Survival Burger

Dish’O’The Sea

Miner’s Treat

Roots Platter

Triple Shot Espresso

Seafoam Pudding

Algae Soup

Pale Broth

Plum Pudding

Artichoke Dip

Stir Fry

Roasted Hazelnuts

Pumpkin Pie

Radish Salad

Fruit Salad

Blackberry Cobbler

Cranberry Candy

Bruschetta

Coleslaw

Fiddlehead Risotto

Poppyseed Muffin

Chowder

Fish Stew

Escargot

Lobster Bisque

Maple Bar

Crab Cakes

Shrimp Cocktail

Ginger Ale

Banana Pudding

Mango Sticky Rice

Poi

Tropical Curry

Squid Ink Ravioli

Mushroom Berry Rice

Big Bark Burger

Flower Cookie

Frog Legs

Glazed Butterfish

Grampleton Orange Chicken

Mixed Berry Pie

Baked Berry Oatmeal

Void Delight

Void Salmon Sushi

[avirael]

FFxivWrite 2023

Day 20 - Hamper

Bored out of his wits A'viloh paced around the small apartment in the Mist, which he shared with his friend Rael. Shared was the word he would use, if you asked the Viera they would say that A'vi had just one day decided to move in and made himself comfortable on Rael’s sofa, just as homeless cat‘s sometimes tend to do.

With disgust the Miqo'te stopped in front of the window and watched the rain pour down from the sky. Sometime this night it had started to rain, hadn’t stopped since then and the sky with it’s dark clouds didn’t look like it would stop anytime soon either…

A'viloh groaned, went over to the lit fireplace and threw himself into one of the big armchairs. Rael was gone since at least an hour, although it felt much longer to A'vi, and the Miqo'te quickly had started to feel bored. At first they had flipped through a few of Rael’s books but all of them seemed to be about various complicated or outright uninteresting topics, like the art of arcanima or a treatise about all kinds of fern in the Twelveswood.

Rael had wanted to quickly go to the market to get something to eat and A'viloh had refused to accompany them considering the weather. The Viera had laughed about him and stated that he as a desert kid should know how important rain is, to which the Miqo'te had simply replied that they weren’t in the desert but in cursed La Noscea and there was water literally everywhere. Why did it also have to fall out of the sky when he had a free day? However that had made Rael only laugh more…

"Just listen to it, A'vi! Doesn’t the sound of the rain feel like music to you?", Rael had asked him before they took their umbrella and left. A'viloh rolled his eyes. Music, sure! All it did by now was get on his nerves! How long could it take to buy groceries anyway??

Just as A'viloh had started to count the books in Rael‘s bookshelf out of boredom, he finally heard the jingling of keys as Rael unlocked to door to their apartment. In anticipation A'viloh turned around on the armchair, perched on his knees and expectantly looked over the chair back like a little child that awaited their mother back home with sweets or a small gift.

And indeed Rael had brought home more than just groceries. While they had a paperbag with food on one arm, a small hamper hung over the other. Quickly they put down the groceries on the tiny kitchen counter in the corner before they walked over to A'viloh and showed him the small hamper, which was filled with different kinds of colorful yarn.

Immediately A'viloh‘s anticipation died down. "I‘m not gonna run after it if you throw one of those balls, just so you know."

"Haha, you stupid oaf!", Rael retorted. "They‘re for knitting."

"Knitting?", A‘viloh repeated and then stated a moment later: "I can sew a little…"

The Viera furrowed their brow in disbelief. "You can? That‘s a little hard to imagine. Do you even have the patience for that?"

"I do!", A'vi exclaimed offended, as Rael put down the hamper and went to get themself a cup of tea.

"Anyway, knitting is not the same as sewing.", they said as they sat down in the armchair beside A'viloh‘s a moment later.

For a few minutes they said nothing and the Miqo'te began to feel bored again. Disinterested he took a ball of dark green wool out of the hamper and turned it in his hand. "So, you can knit, huh?"

"I can." Rael said and eyed A'vi for a moment. "Should I teach you?"

"Teach me?", he asked and laughed. "You‘re probably a horrible teacher."

Rael grinned and teased back: "Or you are just too dumb to learn it."

"Ha! We‘ll see about that!"

[melabea]

may I request the following genders:

a deurseity gender related to silver foxes, golden dragonflies, whale skeleton lanterns, serpents, Monster Energy drinks, green & gold marble, and this image: (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ae/4d/d7/ae4dd7f01ae03468f69fa9c69c0eb995.jpg),

a TROPiN gender related to beagles, clear ocean water, aloe vera, palm fronds, ferns, pineapples, coral reefs & tropical fish, beaches, waterfalls, and Tropical aesthetics,

an everithe gender related to pine martens, cassette tape, sunset meadows, flowering tea, flowers in ice, and evergreen trees,

wilderic gender related to diamond vests, Pekin ducks, lily pads & sunsets, ponds, abandoned greenhouses, matcha, the Manhattan Toy Voyagers Stomp Dino, and the painting Allotments by David Inshaw,

lumenoir gender related to amusement parks, picnics, late winter/early spring, rebirth, A. labiculata bugs, oranges, feelings of calm, and choosing happiness

aneastian gender related to black ravens & white ravens, red albino eyes, black and white pictures, red disco balls, white butterflies, the colours #890e07, #080806, and #e9e3dc, bass guitars, crimson roses, impressionist paintings, melancholy and being asocial

xenogender related to arctic foxes, pink rhodotus mushrooms, ball pythons, soft knitted wool, witch hats, bubbling cauldrons, strawberry moons, enchanted tea, rat skulls, the colours #e9bcc6, #822f4d, #5e2c42, & #491d23, and being a Bubblegum Witch?

Thank you!!

all queued!

[rcreveal]

Shipwrecked with no memory of who we were before Chapter 3

Summary: In this story, Aziraphale and Crowley have woken up on a tropical island with no memory of who they were before. In Chapter 1 they took the names Asclepius(Aziraphale) and Caduceus (Crowley) when they figured out that they had the ability to heal and Crowley could turn into a giant winged serpent. In Chapter 2 they start falling for each other, again, because romance without roadblocks is why I wrote this fic!

In Chapter 3 Asclepius and Caduceus wake up after their joint healing and find that a great deal has changed. More mystery while they are falling fast for each other. Chapter 3 does end with a NSFW non-explicit, very mature, spicy scene only in Ao3. It ends with a kiss here in Tumblr.

Sendarya's Discord Prompt a week 2024 challenge Prompts: 1) Eden 2)fanart (a beautiful, tender, non-explicit, start of a kiss between Aziraphale and Crowley and inspiration for their first kiss here) https://www.tumblr.com/selene-yoshi-chan/190056389466/cobragardens-selene-yoshi-chan-ineffable-mess?source=share

Work text:

Asclepius and Caduceus lay facing each other, foreheads nearly touching, hands clasped, eyes closed within a glow of almost preternatural health.  Their heads rest on something golden while little plants have grown all around them like a green carpet. Black lava beneath Caduceus peeks through the dense growth, creating the look of large black wings while white flowers trail away from Asclepius like bright feathers.    

Waking at almost the same time, Asclepius and Caduceus smile at each other. 

Asclepius tries to blink the glow from his vision, so relieved to see the golden-orange eyes flutter open, see the healthy color on Caduceus’ cheeks and the muscle filled out on his chest again, says, “You look so well! I feel so well.  Did our healing work all the way this time?” 

“Seems like it to me, for both of us,” Caduceus admires the extra flush in Asclepius’ cheeks that was missing before, then looks perplexed, “I smell sheep.  Do you smell sheep?”

“Sheep?” Asclepius replies, “Well, yes, now that you mention it.”

They sit up in the new greensward of tiny flowers and sweet-scented grass suddenly growing all around them, looking at what they were resting on. 

Caduceus points, “Where’d this sheepskin come from?  And what happened to the beach we lay down on?”  They are laying not on white sands but golden wool.

“My goodness! That’s a golden fleece!  Where did that come from?” Asclepius exclaims.

“‘S pretty soft, for gold,” Caduceus pats the fleece, “Aren’t golden fleece thingummies supposed to possess all kinds of health and vitality and share it with all those in the local place, kindof thing?” asks Caduceus speculatively. 

Asclepius replies, “Yes, all that and I’m quite certain we would have noticed if we had one before!” he looks down and around, while Caduceus looks up.

Wheeling flocks of birds, brightly colored and raucous are flying over a dense forest that wasn’t there before.  High, eroded, green cloaked cliffs with the occasional sparkling waterfall now rise out of the water far down the beach.  Dolphins play just off the reef.

“The island got taller,” remarks Caduceus dryly, looking further up what may be a dormant volcano, or, possibly not...dormant that is.

“Ah, and the wildlife got more…wild.” Asclepius states, standing now to look around.

Several turkey-sized gray birds waddle into the undergrowth, Caduceus points at them, "Those are extinct,” he states flatly.

Asclepius watches as the last dodo steps behind a fern, “Not those ones, apparently,” Caduceus huffs, “But yes, they were too delicious for their own good, as I recall.”

They continue to study their new surroundings, noticing the shelter and their supplies are still nearby, unchanged.

In a taking-stock sort of voice, Caduceus inquires, “O-kay… Asclepius, what were you thinking about for our healing, just now?  Just out of curiosity, you know?”

Asclepius looking up the mountain replies,  “I was trying to bring back our natural healthy state, make us strong enough to heal and weather any more storms that might be on the way in future.  What about you?”  Asclepius asks conversationally, as rainbows shimmer between the distant waterfalls.

Caduceus shrugs, “I mean, same as before, really.  I wanted to fight the wound that was hurting you, get rid of it completely.  Destroy that parasite thing on me.  It really hacks me off to see wonderful things maimed and destroyed… again!  Senseless and wasteful, that!  Like destroying a beautiful painting or killing off some incredible species!” his voice is winding up for a lengthy rant.

Asclepius smiles and blushes, “You think I’m wonderful?”

Caduceus stops mid-rant, then turns to Asclepius, and the tight-wound fighter energy, the glib replies, the veneer of confidence all melt away.  Vulnerable and open, Caduceus gently touches Asclepius’ hair, brushes his cheek, places his palm over Asclepius’ heart before stepping back, arms and hands loose at his sides.  A deep loneliness surfaces in Caduceus’ gaze, his shoulders rounding as he says, “Look at you, you’re gorgeous!” a catch in his voice like part of him doesn’t believe that Asclepius could possibly return his feelings.

Asclepius’ prim formality evaporates along with lingering echoes of harsh ‘standards’ of how one should comport oneself that were just protection from some deep-seated but now untethered fears of being judged and persecuted for acknowledging or expressing his feelings.  The constant self-scrutiny burns away like heavy fog as the doors of his heart burst open.  Then his brow furrows, Caduceus doesn’t know, doesn’t realize? Is gazing at him as though the only thing he expects is a blow to fall? 

“Oh! You glorious creature!  You take my breath away!” eyes sparkling with unshed tears, Asclepius shines as Caduceus’ face transforms in unexpected wonder.

Utterly defenseless to one another, they reach out at the same time, drifting forward, eyes closing, their lips meet, an almost chaste brush of lips.  ‘How soft, how incredibly soft ,’ Asclepius thinks, partaking of the gentlest of kisses. ‘ How warm, how welcoming, ’ Caduceus sighs. They share featherlight kisses over and over again.   Holding each other delicately, tenderly as unexpected tears pour out like gentle rain.   Having such deep wells of emotion open up without context disorients them.  They cling to one another as their only stable anchor in this ever changing landscape, somehow recognizing that this has been the case for most of their existence.  Kissing away each other’s loneliness as haunting wisps of half-remembered pain surface before melting away, they tremble and shake. Finally, they stand in each other’s arms, just resting against one another, feeling a security that wasn’t there before. 

Slowly becoming aware of the sea breeze, the sound of waves and the almost tangible growth of the island around them, Caduceus sighs into Asclepius' hair, “That felt like we’d been holding our feelings back for a long, long time.”

“Oh, yes, for ages and ages,” Asclepius replies, resting his head in the curve of Caduceus' shoulder,  hand on his own his chest, “I feel so much better now, but so…tender! And you, dear, dear Caduceus?” moving his palm over to Caduceus' chest.

“You have my happiness and my heart in your hands, Asclepius.  I love you,” Caduceus says simply as they stand together.

“I love you, too, Caduceus.” Asclepius says, looking into Caduceus’ eyes and then resting their foreheads together gently.

***

After awhile, Caduceus says reluctantly, “I would rather stay here holding you, but I think we should probably figure out if we’re still on the same island,”

 Asclepius smiles at him, indicates the island, “Indeed. Well, the mountain and those cliffs are in the same place as ours were, just significantly bigger .  Do you think we did this?”

Caduceus looks surprised. “Us? Did we grow the island and all these creatures?  That’s rather a leap from collapsing on each other with our healing attempts, don’t you think?”

Asclepius tilts his head, and asks candidly, “Did you keep your promise?”

Caduceus looks confused, “What? Me? Yeah!  I was only ‘moderately trying’ to heal us.  Everything just fizzed up and kept rolling out from my first try.” 

Asclepius looks thoughtful, “Mmm, yes.  I was only giving it a moderate effort.  I felt it rather run away from me like a horse with the bit between its teeth, so to speak.  This is awfully…exuberant.”

Caduceus suggests, “We could test that theory, you know.”

“The island building? How?” asks Asclepius, puzzled.

“We can both make light.  We could do that separately and then together.  See what the difference is,” suggests Caduceus and putting word to action says, “Let there be light!” producing the same friendly bright orb.

“Oh, I see!  And however much the light is increased when we do it together, that’s how much our working together boosts the uh, ‘power’ so to speak? Light please,” Asclepius produces his own little orb, “That felt the same as last night!”

“Right and now together!” Caduceus says, then hesitates before grabbing Asclepius’ hand again, looks up at the, ri-ight, that’s an active volcano, “Maybe we should try producing an amount of light that’s easy to figure out how much more power we make together,” Caduceus suggests.

“Oh, good idea…What’s the least amount of light it’s possible for us to measure, do you think?” Asclepius asks politely.

“One photon.  Like this,” Caduceus demonstrates.

“Wonderful! Here’s mine,” Asclepius makes his one photon light (human observers would not have detected anything).

Molten lava flow glows off the back of the island.  Caduceus says thoughtfully, “And I can make that little light, say, a kilometer off the island.  For a second?” and demonstrates this, too.

“Lovely! “ Asclepius gives Caduceus a mildly quizzical look, “We’re just being overly circumspect and making it easy on ourselves to measure, correct?  Only, I have this little niggle…”

“Ye-ah.  I see your point.  Better make it five kilometers,” Caduceus holds out his hand and grins at Asclepius, “Can’t be too cautious, right?”

***

“I like your hair like this,” remarks Asclepius, lightly, looking at the lightened red-orange highlights in Caduceus’ hair and beard.

“You say that because sitting on the golden fleece healed our sunburn immediately,”  Caduceus says dryly. 

“Mmm, yes, but at least we know,” replies Asclepius.

“Know what!? That even you won’t sunburn if you lay out on the golden fleece? Oh, and us making one photon each of light together made a flash like a fission reaction go off!!!”  Caduceus chokes a bit on his frayed calm..

“Know that we did restore the island and all these creatures when we worked together,” Asclepius explains patiently, leaning over and nudging Caduceus’ shoulder.

Caduceus grimaces, “Handy for getting out of a bind.  But, we need some serious practice if we don’t want to overshoot so much in future.”

Caduceus claps his hands against his thighs, standing up off the fleece, offers Asclepius a hand up, “Come on, let's check if we created any rampaging herds of swine or prehistoric beasts that will tread through our camp whilst we sleep.  Want to see if I can fly us both around the island?” 

Asclepius stands, as well, “Oh, can you!? I'd love to be able to fly.”  

Transforming into a winged serpent, Caduceus gently encircles Asclepius.  His great dark wings swirling the golden motes that still sparkle in the air, easily carry them both aloft.  “You’re light as a feather, Asclepius!” cries Caduceus as they rise above the treetops.

“This is marvelous!” Asclepius calls back over the wingbeats.  The great snake’s skin is warm in the sunlight, his scales smooth and polished like obsidian, red jasper, and amber. The strong coils adjust in their flight so Asclepius has no fear of falling. Together, they fly up the shoulders of the volcano, lush and verdant on their side over the lagoon, and rugged and austere with blown out pumice and smooth lava flows on the other side.  Bright lava is flowing into the sea, building the island even more while offshore steam rises from an underwater seamount. On the other end of the island, the high cliffs are from a dormant caldera with a broad breach in the rim in which a beautiful valley lies protected on three sides.  Streams sparkle within it.  Off shore on their side, the lagoon and surrounding reef is larger, brighter.  

“It looks like we made the island younger and more diverse!” calls Asclepius.  

Cadeus points his head at the protected valley, “That and the stronger reef would make weathering a big storm safer.  We’d be out of luck if the volcano exploded, but right now it just seems to be busy building more island.”

“Can you see any more islands or ships?” asks Asclepius.

But even from this height, as far as they can see, they are alone, no ships or islands on the horizon.  Nothing flies in the air but seabirds and land birds, and Caduceus, of course.

While scanning the seas, they see a new pod of dolphins enter the lagoon with several showing signs of injury.  “Those newcomers look hurt! Shall we see if we can help them out?” Asclepius points.  

“I’ll land on the little spit of sand on the reef there.  We can enter the water human shaped,” replies Caduceus heading over toward the dolphins.  He touches down and returns to human form.  It’s an odd but not unpleasant sensation, as Asclepius feels the embrace change from strong coils to strong arms. Turning, he kisses Caduceus’ snake tattoo, sending a shiver down Caduceus’ form and whispering, “You are remarkable,” before turning to the dolphins.  Some of the pod has been watching the strange arrival, and further developments.  From the little spit of sand on the reef, Asclepius and Caduceus dive in and swim over to the sea mammals who are supporting their most grievously injured member.  

“I say! Can we be of assistance? Caduceus and myself, Asclepius, have some healing skills,” calls Asclepius in fluent dolphin.

Caduceus in human mode treads water next to him as he feels the pod look them over with sonar.

“Humans don’t usually speak dolphin, but then, you aren’t humans exactly, are you?” a mature female calls back.  “ If you can help, we’d appreciate it.  Stanley* can’t go on much longer, even in this lagoon.”

Stanley is easy to identify, with his podmates helping him keep his blowhole above water and with an all too familiar wound in his side.

“We should just do this one together.  We already know how bloody difficult it’ll be, otherwise,” suggests Caduceus.  

“But just a teeny, tiny joint healing,” Asclepius warns. 

“ We can heal every sick or injured dolphin in your group.  We just need to all be touching at the time,” calls Caduceus.  The female leader and a grizzled old fellow, the least injured, ferry them over to Stanley when she offers, “We’ll keep you above water.  You probably can’t heal and try to swim at the same time."  

Grasping hands over the backs of their supporting dolphins, Ascelpius and Caduceus touch Stanley and through him, every dolphin in the pod.  All are weary or injured in some way, but Stanley is close to death.  

“ On the count of three.  One, two, three!” This time their healing seems to stay within the pod.

Several male dolphins excitedly caress the healed Stanley* all speaking so quickly that neither Asclepius nor Caduceus can understand them.

(*Of course “Stanley” is just a human version of his name, as Stanley’s name was a series of sounds that humans are incapable of making nor do we have any way of writing them down.  Stanley just thought “Stanley” sounded cool.)

 “ Our thanks, Healers,” says the female leader.

“You're ever so welcome!  We're just delighted to be able to help!” Asclepius replies.

Caduceus asks, “ How were you hurt?  Even humans generally revere your kind,” anger sparkling in his words.

“ We do not know.  We remember a terrible storm, then we found ourselves in calm seas.  We sought this refuge to heal our wounded.  What say you?” replies the female leader.

“ Same as you.  Storm, injury, memory gaps.  Stay as long as you like.  Seems like we’ve got plenty of fish to go around,” offers Caduceus.

Asclepius gushes, “ Oh please stay!  I didn’t know I could talk to you before today!” The female tenderly brushes her pectoral fin against Asclepius. “ We shall be friends, then. And friends don’t let friends bleed on the reef and attract sharks, so we’re taking you to shore.  So say I, Shayla*, leader of this pod.”

( *When told that her chosen human name evokes a warrior queen, Shayla replies, ‘ Of course ’)

Waving at the dolphins, they stand shoulder to shoulder, then their hands find one another and they look out at the lagoon, fingers entwined, gently twisting and touching. Smiling at each other again, they walk up the beach to their shelter.  Looking hopefully into the pot, Asclepius’ stomach growls.   But they ate everything last night.  

“Look!” Asclepius spies a new mango tree with ripe fruit and makes directly for it, hungry and thirsty from their busy morning.  Caduceus grabs a basin and a knife and follows after.  The tree is covered in luscious smelling fruits from hard green to softly blushing red over rich orange-yellows. 

Asclepius has already started picking ripe fruits and looks up happily when Caduceus offers the basin.  Filling it with mangos, they take it with them over to the stream to splash their faces and drink the cool, clear water.

Asclepius prepares a mango, cutting out the large oval seed and cross-hatching the remaining halves.  Folding the skin inside out pops chunks of mango into a sudden bouquet of edible bites. It looks like a magic trick.

“ Voilà ,” Asclepius hands a mango half over to Caduceus, who takes a bite of the exquisite fruit.  The rich scent and flavor burst in his mouth but the juices surprise him, spilling over his lips.  He finds himself slurping up the mango pieces off the skin, so as not to miss a drop, not quite realizing all the happy noises he’s making, so intent is he on getting every last piece.

“Aaaa, that was good! How was yours?”  Looking up, Caduceus sees Asclepius hasn’t started his mango, but sits staring at him a little flushed, even in the shade.

“Are you alright?  If you don’t want your mango, I’ll have yours. They’re delicious! Only the juice gets all over, ya know?” Caduceus is licking his fingers now.

Still gazing at Caduceus, Asclepius brings the mango to his mouth. His first bite closes his eyes ecstatically as the juices run into his beard. Slurping the next piece, and the next, he moans at the delightful flavors.  By the time Asclepius finishes his half of the mango, Caduceus has figured out what had been troubling his love before, because he thinks he has the same affliction.  Bodies, who knew?

Asclepius opens his eyes, flustered to see Caduceus staring back at him, “You were right, that was a really excellent mango!  Would you fancy another one?” he turns to select another mango as good as that first one, not quite sure what to do with his strange new feelings.

When Asclepius turns back, hands empty, Caduceus captures his face and kisses him fiercely.  Asclepius tastes like the exquisite mango with a wild undertone.

Asclepius wraps his arms around Caduceus’ back, slips his tongue past Caduceus’ lips eliciting a moan which tastes sweet in Asclepius' mouth, resonates in his chest and reverberates further down....

The rest of the chapter is too spicy for Tumblr, but can be found on Ao3

-Thanks for reading! Your kudos and comments make my day! If you'd like to read more of my Good Omens fanfic, check out this Master List