#hollow tree stump

[vtatters]

[stoportotouch]

i love to call hodgson a little creature or animle of some form.

[good--merits-accumulated]

OK, SEVERELY rambly post incoming but - Anderperry Stardust (2007)/ The Little White Horse AU, anyone?

Rundown: I think many of us are familiar with Stardust, originally a Neil Gaiman book but also a great film, starring Claire Danes as a falling star and That Guy Who Plays Daredevil as the lad who promises to bring her to the girl he's infatuated with. The Little White Horse is, to the best of my knowledge, more unknown, but equally very good (for sentimental reasons, I think of it much more highly than Stardust). Published in 1946 by Elizabeth Goudge, it tells the story of thirteen-year-old orphan Maria Merryweather, who moves to her cousin Sir Benjamin's Moonacre Manor in the West Country, where she finds a) a thriving cosy community and a long family history, b) the little white horse of the title, c) a longstanding family feud cutting off Moonacre from the sea, d) her imaginary best friend Robin, real and in the flesh, and e) some of the most deliciously-described food that has ever been or will be. It's a great book even past the rose-tinted glasses of my childhood. Go read it. (The one (1) marring is that you can't find a bloody edition that doesn't have a JK Terfling quote pasted onto the cover, because apparently it was one of her favourite books, but fuck OFF, I'm reclaiming it now. Thou shalt not keep the cosy low fantasy from me.)

Anyway even though I mention Stardust this isn't really part of the AU I have in my mind, except for the bit with the Star, because Todd as a main character who thinks he's a very forgettable bland boy-in-the-corner until he finds out he's a star is a great thought to me. Particulars on /how/ he's a star to be fleshed out later! (I only thought of this AU about two hours ago, lol.)

In my mind this is how it goes - nebulously Olden Times setting (TLWH is set in 1842, so perhaps then). Todd is around seventeen/eighteen and Geoff has just graduated from university, and gone off around Europe, accompanied by their parents. Months go by. Something happens - he's never given the liberty of knowing, but Geoff and their parents stay in Europe, and the townhouse in London is sold, and Todd is packed off to stay at a distant relative's - Keating, as it turns out. It's a blessing in disguise, because Todd is finally away from his family for the first time in his life and around people that appreciate him. He begins to bloom under this new care - but there are strange family secrets only now being revealed to him, and dark forces beyond the valley which threaten to disrupt the haven he's found...

The rest is very cosy fantasy, featuring Mr Perry as the local uptight vicar locking horns with Keating at every opportunity, Neil as his withdrawn but friendly son just longing for a rebellion, and more! (Read: Charlie is here and he is Outrageous as usual. Read also: Pitts as a sailor because I think he'd like it.) Right now I'm thinking of adding an equivalent of Monsieur Cocq de Noir for a villain (Mr Perry is NOT the villain), and Cameron can play a part there so I can give him a good redeeming! Here are a couple of extracts from TLWH to show the kind of mood/tone we're working with:

Thematically, I REALLY like the idea of Todd as a star because it allows me to work in a very fun trope, of "not of the rose but near the rose" - when a character perhaps is shy and a little quiet and reclusive, but inspires other people around them to brilliance and greatness. (Honestly I do think this kind of goes in with the film, where it's not just Keating's teaching but Todd's reaction to it and his presence that galvanise Neil to continue.) This ties in really well if Todd's a star and adds to the overall self-confidence journey - plus I was really thinking about the sun/moon motifs! They're very prominent in TLWH (Maria is a "moon" Merryweather and Robin is a very sunny boy), and I really want to implement them here with slight twists. I think of Todd as a sunny moon; yes he's warm and caring and cheerful but once you go a little closer it's more of a luminosity rather than a blaze, there's a coolness and quietness to him I like. You know, a quiet character doesn't always have to be quiet because there's something "wrong" with them, sometimes they're just like that. For Neil it's the opposite, he's a moony sun; under the thumb of his father he's polite and decorous and demure but somewhere under all of that there's a very loud and booming laugh and a healthy sort of ruddiness. I don't know, I just like sun/moon motifs!!!!!!!!!!

(On a more personal note: this AU, which I already love very much despite not having known very long, would be above all a careful love letter to the West Country. It's been lovely living around here almost all my life and by this time in September I'll be hopefully up very far north at uni, so I'm pre-emptively kind of :') about it. Mutuals who are at uni/college how on earth did you cope?)

[pepprs]

acnl is a superior game to acnh in almost every way except the graphics. it’s actually making me mad

[emleelion]

These big bois are gonna be on sale soon! Very limited run of only 4 and the only large deadpool ducks I've ever made! Trying to save up money for my working holiday to australia next month!

[haikuckuck]

Hohler Baumstumpf,wird leider auch als Müllbehälter missbraucht!

[chrisstumpgrinding]

Is it better to grind or remove a stump?

[alcnfr]

This stump has grown a tail...

[hedgehog-moss]

This particular patch of woods between two cow pastures is my favourite place to go when it's cold, because there's a little stream in there that meanders in a very whimsical way, dividing itself into spiderwebs of rivulets then becoming one again, winding around every other tree, it's delightful.

The stream is smaller but still here in summer, but I like it best in winter because it sounds so delicate! In some places it runs under a thin layer of ice with a light glassy sound; in others there are branches across the stream with dozens of little ice drops hanging underneath and making a tiny tinkling noise.

This patch of woods can be hard to find though, as it's tucked between two very large pastures that are completely featureless in winter. But Pandolf knows what we're looking for now, and since he's not distracted by cows in this season, he led us right to it.

Congratulations Pandolf! You are useful !

Although it's not a forest, it's easy to get lost here in winter when all my landmarks have disappeared, so I always follow the stream. One of the most recognisable spots is a hollow tree stump that looks very old and gnarled and full of character in summer, but sometimes in winter it almost entirely disappears and looks like a massive soft marshmallow (until you stumble upon it) (it hurts)

But as long as we don't lose the stream, we'll find our way back.

So of course I quickly got distracted and lost the stream. First because I found deer footprints, and they looked so much like Pampe's footprints I had to examine them and then look around suspiciously. (She wasn't following us. It was a deer) (I'm almost sure)

Second, because the woods kept stealing my hat.

Third, because Pandolf was being recklessly ambitious.

After walking in circles for a while, instead of the stream I found a barricade of shrubs forbidding access to a mysterious meadow. (Mysterious because I have never seen this place in summer. There are no charming small meadows here! It's pasture / tangled woods / pasture!)

I did not have time to inspect yet another fae meadow (and didn't feel very welcome here), so off we went again in search of the stream which is our only reliable landmark.

Then Pandolf found a way out all by himself:

He was very proud to show me the cow pasture, because in his naive dog logic he assumed I was still looking for the stream in order to follow it and leave the woods. In my better human logic, I was now looking for the stream because streams have no business disappearing like that and I was taking it personally.

How did we lose the stream, Pan? It's supposed to be everywhere!

What was annoying was that sometimes I could hear soft stream sounds, but saw nothing...

It took me a embarrassingly long time to figure out that the stream was, in fact, everywhere.

I'd never seen the stream frozen, let alone frozen + covered with snow! I suppose it was only frozen here and not near the pastures because there's less sun in the middle of the woods and the stream is wider and runs more slowly. It was a bit fun how every time we brushed aside some snow or found a snowless spot, we discovered a piece of the missing stream right underneath.

... well, at first it was fun but then it got a little bit worrying, because the ice was quite thin and cracked easily if I knocked on it politely, so the only thing keeping me from falling knee-deep in icy water with every step I took was the layer of compacted snow. Which I didn't trust. In places where I remembered the stream being wider (so most of the snow in these areas was potentially traitorous) I tried to walk very lightly and carefully, as if it's possible to tiptoe lightly with snow boots.

Pandolf just walked normally, completely unfussed about the fact that he was (literally) on thin ice.

I think he could tell I was nervous but didn't know why. He looked pretty confused whenever he turned around and saw me walking like an Andalusian horse over the same spots that he'd just trampled happily.

I'm fairly sure he knew all along that the stream was under our feet. I wish he'd told me! But maybe he could tell the ice wasn't cracking under his weight and he assumed I too knew what I was doing.

We made it out and I only stepped right through the snow and ice and into the horribly icy water once! One soggy boot was less bad than the fate I expected when I realised I was standing in the middle of this patch of woods surrounded by a pretend-snowy ground that was actually just water.

Then I reached my car and found that I could not open any door because they were frozen shut. This had also never happened to me in the middle of the day when I parked in the sun and I felt persecuted. Thankfully I was not too far from a farm; I told Pandolf to wait for me in the nearby pasture (in case of farm dogs; I didn't have his leash) (it was in the car, keeping warm next to my Thermos of tea) and I went to knock on the door and humbly ask to borrow some hot water. The woman who answered the door noticed my very wet boot and I think she initially assumed I wanted hot water because my foot was frozen and I'd already lost three toes, but I reassured her that it was only my car that needed unfreezing.

When I returned to my car with the bottle of hot water, I found Pandolf waiting for me in the pasture as instructed, but he didn't notice I was back until I'd almost reached the road because he was busy doing what he does best. (And it's not crawling under trunks.)

[chocsra]

idk abt others but yes i do eat up every single one of ur hs au bc it's so silly and yes i am looking at you with a chuuya plushie in my hand to ask for a dazai x reader hs au fanfic

✧ "YOU ARE THE CITY OF MY HEART"

☆ synopsis ↺: skipping class with your classmate, dazai yet again. but this time, you explore the ocean of your feelings together.

☆ content ↺: HIGHSCHOOL AU 15ZAI, musical prodigy! dazai, photographer! dazai, introvert! dazai, slightly ooc, fluff

☆ NOW PLAYING ↺: UNDERSTAND — keshi

☆ w/c ↺: 2k

you don't think you have ever lived without noise,

ever since you were a kid, you were talked your ear off by your parents, lectured by several adults, and screamed plentifully with friends. when there was silence, there was music to mask it. good or bad noise, it existed, survived, and was a huge part of your life.

but you,

Dazai Osamu, are probably the quietest person you've ever known.

the only sound you could associate with him was the shutter of a camera taking a picture—the same sound you've been continually hearing.

It was a regular school day, both dressed in full uniform, baking under the bright rays of the morning sun. There wasn't anything particularly wrong about this day. you could pick off the reddening leaves from bark-ridden tree branches and soak in the imprint of tree stumps, looking ever so similar to that of a fingerprint. it was a pretty autumn day; you just so happened to get to see that. you think, taking a withering leaf into the palm of your hand.

shutter.

"osamu, stop taking photos of me." —you chide, gently swatting the pointed camera out of view. the brunette in front of you, currently crouching, laughs boyishly as he removes his face pressed against the camera, gaze now overseeing the autumn sight before him. "sorry," dazai whispers, tinkering with a few buttons to review the photos he took. "you don't have to skip class with me, y'know." he murmurs, eyes glued to his camera.

he was a photographer, a pretty one at that. quiet and mysterious, you were rather surprised to learn that a boy reads fine literature and other classical means. sometimes, he picked up a violin or combined delicate fingers to gracefully waltz with a grand piano. his most prized possession was a camera, freezing the most beautiful of the intricacies of nature and people. but who was he? the boy who read books instead of taking notes in lectures, wavy chocolate brown hair that sun rays adored to find a home in, and a tall and slim build fitted in a school uniform and bandages. to capture the slope of his cheek, the deep hazel in hollow irises, and his olive skin. he was Dazai Osamu, a walking mystery.

so, you'd like to know where you stood with him in terms of relationship and if he even likes you at all. skipping class together, sneaking in your window at night, pretending to hang out with friends if it meant seeing him—it didn’t feel like something close friends did, like he was a secret you wanted to keep for yourself. but you couldn’t tell if that greed was reciprocated, if he was bored, or even considered you a close friend, a best friend. but instead of worrying too much, you only watch how his fingers work with a bulky camera, capturing nature's highs and lows.

“i know,” you twiddle with your fingers, grumbling, “class is boring anyway.” the brunette furrows his brows at the photos, brushing your excuse off, “this is shit. i think i’ve taken enough photos around the school.” he groans softly; you could practically hear his creative mind burning in the process. “did you delete the picture of me?” you question, standing over the lanky boy’s crouched form. “no, that one is good. i mean, the actual background, it's all repetitive.”

you tap a finger on your chim, “ahh,” you hum, pretending to understand his perspective. “winter should be here already.” the teenager grumbles under his breath before letting go of the camera to let it hang off his neck. you pace around slowly, feeling the surface of leaves crushing under your heels. “I mean, you don’t have to stay in school if you’re already skipping class.” you mutter, watching as a boyish grin lights up on his face. “you’re right, [y/n]! let’s go!”

a cold hand wraps his fingers around yours before dragging you to the nearest exit—"dazai!” you whine as the brunette drags you, “it’s cooooolllddddd!” you complain, your scarf nearly falling off as you run and run. hand in hand. this rather rushing feeling brings you a taste of memories you barely remember you had.

no one understood Dazai Osamu,

because he was a prodigy, he was something. something big, something great, something that made other geniuses seethe in envy. the boy had extraordinary intellect but a weak mind. no, dazai wasn't weak. he was just always unwell to a certain degree, and to most, it didn't take much to figure out—wearing long sleeves in summer, loving bandages for the comforting feelings even if he didn't need them, and reading books guiding the suicidal. dazai never hid it—that he was unwell, almost like a cry for help.

but for the genius that he was, nobody understood that.

but you did, in seventh grade. you were sniffling, pacing in remnants of snow as tears blurred your vision. though in your hazy field of sight, you outline the figure of one of your classmates approaching you, his tall frame catching the snowflakes from hitting your face. slowly, a boyish voice calls out.

"...are you okay?"

it was dazai, the stone-faced boy and talented prodigy. he wore a black trenchcoat, a little too big for his figure, and covered one of his chocolate brown eyes with bandages. you shook your head, a throbbing pain added from the tinge of snowflakes collecting in your hair. his stoic gaze never left you, standing there in the middle of a snowstorm, crying. the boy himself couldn't muster a feasible reason for walking outside in a snowstorm at this hour, so out of courtesy and a slight tinge of nervousness, he whispered, "let's go for a walk."

suddenly, nimble fingers reach out to grab yours; your fingers are used to originally wipe snot and cover your face. but dazai had no reaction to anything gross like that—like snot and tears. instead, he took shaky fingers into the cold ones of his own, pulling you gently along the sidewalk. you could barely make out his face or your feelings at the moment, only focused on his broad shoulders covered by that raven trench coat, soaking up snowflakes and the well of your tears.

from there, you walked and walked. hand in hand. soon running together with no particular destination—only feeling your body starting to warm up, sore feet clashing against snow, and his hand that never let go of yours.

Dazai Osamu never knew why you were crying, nor did you know what ever went through his head that day.

but from that moment forward,

you understood him.

soon, you were led by that same hand past pretty autumn leaves and into a foresty meadow, closed off from the rest of the world. several forms of wildlife scrapped by, followed by a murky pond under the sun's wake, surrounded by trees of reds and oranges. it perfectly provided what the school's campus couldn't—a sense of divergence reeling in the soft convolutions of your brain. "pretty, isn't it?"—the brunette chimes, panting from the long distance you two ran. "why'd you do that?" you grumble, rubbing your abdomen from an incoming sharp pain, "don't you have asthma?"

he immediately backtracks, shooting you an unamused glare, "that's.. enough." dazai huffs, before removing the strapped camera around his neck, "here, maybe you can take better pictures than i can." the boy chuckles shyly, a very drastic verbal response than his usual arrogance.

"hmm," a gentle hum slips past your lips, squinting one of your eyes in order to press the machine against your face. "i can try." after scouting the area with his camera for a few seconds, you began to snap a few shots at the darkening lake, carrying several leaves in its wake.

and as you paid full attention to the awaiting winter, dazai's gaze stayed on you, his autumn. his gaze softened and his slightly chapped lips parted in a momentary surprise, taking you in with every breath he took. Dazai himself loved photography; he loved capturing moments that would soon get lost in time. the brunette, with a talent for many things, found solace in photos. he loved to take photos of resting cats, dark sceneries you'd only find in an alleyway of a fantasy novel, and candid pictures of random couples on dates. dazai loved taking photos but detested that he didn't have a camera on hand at the moment—for he wanted to freeze this divine sight of you in the confines of his brain. your face, fingers, the dip and curve of every facial feature, and how the lighting kisses your skin and hair.

"how's it like? being a total genius?"

you were rather familiar with all your classmates, just curiously getting to know the mysterious musical prodigy, dazai osamu. it was a work period, and everyone in class already begun to slack off, especially since there was a supply.

and you knew that the lanky boy was eerily quiet when the school's athletic hotshot, Chuuya Nakahara, wasn't around. so, asking stupid questions won't exactly result in stupid answers, or so you thought.

"why? wanna be like me?" — he smiles teasingly, tilting his sharp jaw in your direction. "don't think someone who cries in the snow can do it, sorry." you freeze up and scoff, slightly embarrassed from the former interaction you had with him. "dick." a peaceful but awkward silence fills the air between both of you before the boy clears his throat awkwardly. "But i'd be willing to talk about it if you let me bother you at lunch.?"

the question itself caught you off guard. looking around at the chattering students, "i—" the brunette backtracked, hiding his face slightly with gauzed fingers. "Actually!—I am going to bother you. you're friends with chuuya, aren't you?" you shrug, eyes fluttering to the ground, "..i guess so, but i don't eat with him or his friends."

A breathless chuckle slips past the prodigy's lips before covering his mouth softly, completely ignoring you, "alright then, see you anyway, crybaby."

he hates himself for not knowing what to do with you, but he loved you more to let hate consume him, like usual. dazai wanted you; he didn't know what yearning was until he saw pieces of you in sunsets, rain and snow. he's felt destiny with his childhood friend, chuuya nakahara. but he's never felt something so desiring, pining — like he wanted to be with you every day. and maybe one of those days he'll feel you without the stupid gauze wrapped around his fingers. maybe one day he can hold your hand without the excuse of dragging you somewhere new. maybe one day, dazai will figure out how to ask you to be his, how to love you, because he's sure you're the one he wants to love.

"ahh, wait.."

you cock a brow at his shocked face, grabbing onto your sleeve as if the prodigy were reaching for the stars.

"I wish I were a painter, instead." the boy pouts, holding your sleeve childishly, pulling a chuckle from your throat, "why is that, huh?"

dazai's eyes, ever so empty and unfilled, now gleam, pretty and gentle. Softly reaching out to part a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear, gazing up at you feverishly. "usually, I'm so prideful about these things, photography.."

The prodigy clears his throat, his fingers threading through soft strands of hair tucked behind your ear. "But your eyes, they are really pretty." Your lips part bashfully surprised, overcoming your ability to move.

The boy continues as if his mouth was switched on autopilot: " So I wish I could paint them instead. I guess just looking works, too, though."

He smiles cheekily.

all you ever knew was noise,

but you, Dazai Osamu, had that kind of silence to keep you awake at night. Whether that'd be holding hands in a snowstorm, or the few moments he'd stare into your eyes.

Little did you know, that was the moment he fell in love. Or rather, the time it took him to realise you don't fall.

That love has grown before you can even realise it.

✧ chocsra™

[cireks]

A single short whoop breaks the quiet of the night, melodic but hollow, it reminds you of an old bronze bell somehow. A cirek stands on a tree stump in the clearing, surveying its surroundings.

[miupow]

CRAVE ⛦ c.yj + c.bg

・:〃➜ dont go into the woods.

pairing. werewolf!choi yeonjun x fem!reader xwerewolf! choi beomgyu words. 1.9k NSFW, minors DNI! potentially dark/triggering content warning. warnings: dubcon, implied/referenced kidnapping, predator/prey elements, free use, toxic!txt, referenced poly!txt (no mxm), hard dom!beomgyu, soft dom!yeonjun, ruts/mating cycles, rough sex, knotting mention, deepthroat/throatfucking, degredation kink, praise kink, breeding kink, dacryphilia, spitroasting

"never go into the woods," they said, but you were never one to listen-- stupid, sheltered village girl thinking to herself how bad could it possibly be as you ventured through the undergrowth, more worried about picking flowers and berries than her safety... you should have listened.

getting lost was easier than you had thought, too giddy for exploring to mark out a path home. you ran, panicked, alone amongst the trees until the sun went down, growing more and more distressed, more and more utterly lost as your visibility dwindled— twigs snapped, leaves rustled behind you, the oppressive feeling of eyes on your back followed you wherever you sprinted and stumbled… you were being hunted.

they descended upon you when you were at your weakest, stumbled and fell over a tree stump, hit your head on a rock, laid unconscious in the grass; a pack of wolves disguised as men. they took you to their den, nursed your wounds, calmed your nerves with saccharine smiles that were just a little too sharp in the teeth... you grew to trust them, care for them, feel indebted to them. you didn't understand until you had fully recovered, tried stepping out of their little pack life and back home to your village.

stupid girl. they were never going to let you leave. you belonged to them now.

yeonjun was soft for you. at least, that's what the other boys say-- their eldest usually so callous and cold. you couldn't possibly see him that way, no matter how many stories you've been told; how could he possibly be the nastiest of the pack when he treated you the sweetest, gentle words and gentler touches. chaste kisses that never landed on your lips. you felt safest with him. you were still a little afraid of the others.

you were most afraid of beomgyu. loud and brash, nasty words falling from a sneering mouth-- his elders kept him in line, snapped at him when he went too far, but nothing could stop his constantly running mouth. he teased, he belitted, he degraded you. he never let you forget just how he viewed you; like a toy for him to play with. for all of them to play with.

but yet when beomgyu's rut rolled around, your cunt ached for him.

"f-fuck, fuck yeah-- take it all~" beomgyu groans, his fingers wound tight in your hair. he tugs you further down his thick cock, mushroom head knocking at the back of your little throat-- you gag at the intrusion, eyes watery, and beomgyu just laughs. "what a good bitch."

you whimper around his cock, try your best to hollow your cheeks, flatten your tongue against his underside— there wasn’t much else you could do with beomgyu using your head like a pocket pussy, roughly pushing and pulling to fuck his cock in and out of your throat. “like having your throat fucked, huh? yeah you do, you cockhungry slut— maybe i should knot your mouth instead of your pussy, make you swallow all my cum—“

the thought makes your throat close up in fear, fat tears threatening to fall down your red face as you choke and splutter. drool dribbles down your chin and smears across your cheeks, aided by beomgyu’s thumbs anchored on your cheekbones and forcing your mouth open— you look up at him desperately, whining, and beomgyu gazed back with honey dark eyes and a devilish smirk. “aww, don’t want beomie’s knot down your throat? i’m sure you’d take it just fine~”

“stop it, you’re scaring her.” yeonjun chastised from over your shoulder, his pretty soft voice comforting your cries immediately— you’d already be ass up and wailing around beomgyu’s knot if it wasn’t for him, your sweet jjunie making sure your tight cunt is stretched out enough to take them because beomgyu certainly wouldn’t have bothered. his long fingers dragged at your walls deliciously, pumping in and out of you with the lewdest wet noises— he changed angles to rub hard at your sweet spot, chuckling into your ear when your eyes roll back and you keen around beomgyu’s thick shaft. beomgyu groans deep in his chest, adams apple bobbing, and his grip on your cheeks tighten considerably. “there we go, pretty girl, doin’ so well~” yeonjun coos, gentle, free hand snaking down to rub tight circles against your neglected and swollen clit. “‘m not gonna let gyu knot your throat, baby, don’t worry— just keep making him feel good, yeah? be a good hole while jjunie gets you ready for breeding~”

beomgyu snickers darkly. “you’re so soft for our whore, hyung. acting like she’s your mate ‘n not just the pack cumdump, wont even let me fuck her my damn self—“

“you’d hurt her, you fucking beast.” yeonjun snaps, the arm playing at your clit tightening you against his chest. “gotta make sure you don’t break my— our toy.”

you’re grateful that beomgyu can’t refuse an order from the eldest, terrified of what facing his rut alone may have been like, tossed around and used like toy, yeonjun not there to act as a filter for beomgyu’s dirty mouth… it terrified you, but your pussy throbbed at the thought.

it was getting increasingly hard to focus on sucking beomgyu’s cock, yeonjun’s skilled fingers in your cunt making you stupid and drunk— beomgyu didn’t seem to mind much, head thrown back and grunting like an animal while he rammed his cock into your slack-jawed mouth. “are you done yet, then? wanna breed my bitch now.”

yeonjun scoffs but relents, sliding his slick-sticky fingers out of your hole— you whimper from the loss, pussy empty and fluttering around nothing, choke on beomgyu’s cock when yeonjun chuckles and slaps your ass. they switch positions easily, beomgyu pulling out of your throat with a sickening pop before clambering to mount you, big palms immediately moving to palm and grope at your reddening asscheeks. he pulls them apart with his thumbs, groans loud at the sight of your glistening cunt peeking between your thighs— yeonjun settles in beomgyu’s place, hums and pets your head when you nuzzle against the straining bulge in his jeans. “miss a cock in your mouth that bad, baby?” he laughs, hips bucking gently against your face. “greedy little girl, focus on beomgyu now, okay? he’s been very patient.”

beomgyu hadn’t been very patient, but that was besides the point. he holds your cheeks apart with his thumb, other hand keeping his cock steady as he slides it up and down your soaked slit, bumps the head against your aching clit. you moan at the sensation, rock your hips back into beomgyu’s pelvis— he spanks your abused ass even harder than yeonjun did, skin stinging and blooming with heat and pain, and you lurch forward with a broken wail. “quit moving, ‘m gettin’ my cock wet,” he growls.

you try to stay still the best you could, thighs shaking as beomgyu lines himself up with your twitching hole— he gives you no time to prepare, rough and quick in burying his cock in your pussy to the hilt. you throw your head back, cry out pathetically at the intrusion, watery eyes threatening to spill over… yeonjun strokes your cheek with his thumb.

the sound beomgyu makes when he bottoms out is ungodly, deep and low and making your clit twitch for attention as his hands grab on tight to your hips. “f-fuck,” beomgyu whimpers, sounding winded. “fuck, fuck, so tight, shit!—“

your poor little pussy is filled to the brim, stretched to it’s limit as you struggle to adjust to the way beomgyu’s cock parts your gummy walls and burns so good. you can feel every inch, every vein, every twitch of his shaft, still unmoving as beomgyu pants like a dog, hips stuttering and hands shaking as if in a daze.

yeonjun watches with a smirk, thumb rubbing circles against your cheekbone and smearing drool and precum further across your face— his cock strained against the front of his jeans obscenely, and the sight made your mouth water. “pussy drunk already, beomie? thought you wanted to breed her.”

beomgyu snorts, shaken out of his reverie— he rolls his hips hard against your ass, cock bullying impossibly deeper, and snickers when you choke on air. “gonna make her beg for it. c’mon, slut, wanna be bred? want my knot? tell us how bad you want it.”

“wanna be bred,” you echo quietly, gasping, sounding ruined and pathetic even to your own ears. beomgyu hadn’t even started fucking you yet and you were already fucked dumb.

“what was that, doll? didn’t hear you.” yeonjun goads, thumb slipping into your open mouth.

“breed me, please!” you cry, give in entirely— you couldn’t think, head cloudy and full of only yeonjun and beomgyu, only able to focus on how badly you wanted beomgyu to start moving, start making you feel good. “want it, want it, want your knot— fuck me!”

you can hear the sneer in beomgyu’s deep voice. “that’s a good whore.”

his hips start thrusting at a brutal pace, his flared cockhead battering your cervix like it was threatening to push through— and all you could do was take it, whimper and wail while he ruined your cunt, dizzy with the delicious drag of his veiny shaft against your walls. “such a good cocksleeve, fuck!” beomgyu spat, grip on your hips bruising. “pussy feels so fuckin’ good, so fuckin’ tight—“

you hold on to the front of yeonjun’s jeans for support, shaking with pleasure while the younger wolf fucks you stupid. “so big!” you whine, pathetic and wobbly, gazing up at yeonjun with teary eyes like he would somehow save you. “too much!”

yeonjun just chuckles and pets your hair, lets you slobber all over the bulge in his jeans as beomgyu blows your back out.

“gonna fuckin’— gonna knot you!” beomgyu babbles, hips moving impossibly faster, impossibly harder, his hard chest pressing against your back. your cunt ached with overwhelming pleasure, fat cock in your tummy making you dizzy; you loved it, loved beomgyu’s rough pace, love the way he fucked you like you were nothing but a toy. “gonna fill you up, shit, get you pregnant, fill you up with my puppies— fuck, i should bite you. make you mine forever! gonna knot you, gonna claim you… gonna cum!”

the threat of being turned struck a pang of terror through your chest, the threat far too real as beomgyu mouthed hot at your neck. the tears in your eyes were falling freely now, little body of wracking pathetic sobs— yeonjun cooed down at you, grabbed at your wet cheeks as he shushed your cries, stroked your face. “shhh, baby, it’s just his rut talking. i won’t let him do anything to you.”

you would feel more comforted if yeonjun wasn’t undoing his belt, fishing his red hot cock out of his pants. “just take it all like a good little knotslut, take what we give you… that’s a good girl, just like that~”

you take yeonjun into your throat just as you did beomgyu, with pretty flushed, hollowed cheeks and shining eyes— yeonjun groans low in his throat, hissing a quiet “fuck yeah” as he pushes himself in deeper, heavy balls slapping wet and nasty against your chin. both of your little holes are filled now, beomgyu still grunting and moaning obscenities as he pounds your puffy abused cunt; you can’t process a single thought anymore, not when yeonjun’s cock is laying heavy and salty on your tongue, not when you feel the swelling base of beomgyu’s knot catch on your rim… you were turned into the toy they saw you as. “you were made for this, weren’t you?” yeonjun sighs, tangling his fingers in your messy hair. “such a perfect little slut for me, for my pack~”

[piratefishmama]

Prompt being this post about daycare worker Eddie and Single Parent Steve right here

Eddie was a professional. He couldn’t flirt with the kids parents, especially since he didn’t actually know which ones would be interested in him. Single fathers were always kind of… 50/50 in terms of whether or not they’d be into another guy, so Eddie was pretty comfortable not flirting with parents.

Until Steve Harrington.

Little Ellie, or Nora, or Eleanor depending on the brand of shenanigan that she’d gotten up to during the day, had been going to Tiny Terrors Day-Care for a little over four months now after the parent and child had moved into town a week before she’d joined them. Eddie had met Steve twice. Once, where Ellie had spectacularly ran head first into a door pretending to be a T-Rex, and the second time, was when Robbie, a little shit, pulled her pretty pig tails out and ran off with her hair ties.

They had little green T-Rex charms on them, Eddie had never seen such a thing before, it turned out they were custom made by one of her uncles. Priceless treasures basically.

She hadn’t done anything to Robbie, no. Robbie was four and just acting out. The five-year-old knew better than to hurt Robbie, no. After she’d gotten her hair ties back, she, with an impressive amount of force, booted one of the helpers directly in the shin, when said helper suggested Robbie must have just had a crush on her.

Physical violence had been paired with her furious little voice demanding they never tell girls that boys hurting them means they have a crush, cause her daddy said that’s the dumbest thing ever. Boys shouldn’t hurt girls!! And nobody should be excusing boys hurting girls!!

It was a pretty spectacular verbal beat down for a five-year-old to be giving a grown adult, Eddie didn’t actually have anything bad to say to her about it either. He just had to tell Steve that she’d injured one of the staff, because… protocol.

Steve had given her a high five and promised her ice cream when he’d found out why. Eddie kind of wanted to kiss him.

It was fine. Totally fine, he’d only seen him twice and he’d managed to contain his urge to flirt even with Steve looking at him in a way that could definitely be construed as interest. He didn’t want to assume, assumptions could lead to chaos and chaos didn’t belong in the lives of toddlers.

So, he was pretty sure that he’d be fine for the easter hunt.

Steve had RSVP’d that he would be attending with Ellie when the little newsletter went out about it, since wherever he worked was closed for the holiday, Eddie had… understandably freaked out a little, but he’d done it in the office.

Away from the staff. Away from the kids. He’d be fine to witness Steve being a great dad for the day. Totally fine. He’d had his little freak out, he was fine to spend the morning of their little hunt hiding eggs with the staff, definitely not feeling his nerves skyrocketing at the idea of Steve helping little Ellie find them later.

They weren’t real eggs, oh no, definitely not real eggs. They were hiding little colourful plastic eggs, each colour holding a value, so the more plastic eggs you found, the bigger your easter haul could be! It wasn’t just eggs either, they had cakes, cool prizes, sweets, and other things donated to the day care for the kids by members of the community, someone had donated a bike for crying out loud. It was silver and gold and had removable stabilizers, totally gender neutral so any kid could enjoy it without it being too girly or too boyish.

They’d hidden a golden egg for the bike. It was extra hard to find.

Eddie had hidden it personally under the roots of an old tree stump just beyond the tree line, in a little hollow half hidden by moss and foliage. The other eggs just hidden around the park. The only reason he’d hidden it beyond the treeline, was because the parents would be looking with the kids. No child would be going beyond that tree line without their parents present.

So, with all the eggs hidden, some a little more obvious than others, Eddie and the rest of the staff waited for their attendees, who slowly began trickling in sometime around noon. The hunt was supposed to start at one, and Eddie was definitely not craning his head side to side, searching through the rapidly growing crowd of parents and children for that specific dynamic duo, he absolutely wasn—

“Eddie!!” Eddie’s eyes snapped to the left just in time to catch his favourite, even if he wasn’t supposed to pick favourites, tiny terror, Ellie, just before she’d have bulldozed into his legs. He hoisted her up and into his arms with a pleased little,

“Elliesaurus Rex!!”

“Quick, tell daddy that the shirt looks fine!” Eddie found himself focusing beyond her at the request, finding his smile growing wider at the dressed down Steve Harrington, wearing an incredibly stupid Hawaiian shirt that didn’t even remotely look like it belonged to him, and a pair of quarter length jeans rolled a little further up his calves and sandals fuck.

The shirt was baggy enough to hide what would no doubt be an absolutely spectacular rear fitted snugly into those jeans though, sadly enough.

“The shirt looks fine.” He parroted with a mischievous grin, a grin that widened as Steve rubbed at the back of his neck bashfully.

“It’s laundry day, the only clean shirt I had was something my old man ‘passed down’ to me, I… don’t usually wear this sort of thing.” There was a story there, Eddie wanted to hear it. Maybe some other time though.

“You look good in it! It suits you” honestly a garbage bag would suit Steve Harrington, it wasn’t fair how pretty that man was.

“It does not” Steve laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in such a way that Eddie had to internally remind himself that he should not flirt with the parents of the kids. Definitely don’t do that. “You though—you uh… I like the uhm… the apron.” Eddie’s eyes widened a fraction, before he looked down at himself, sure enough, he’d left his apron on. The one still covered in dried paint hand prints and dirt. “The dirt looks good on your knees too.” Aaand the dirt on his knees from where he’d been kneeling down in the grass.

“Haaa-hah, we can’t all look like we just stepped off a run way in Hawaiian chic, Mr. Harrington” Eddie definitely didn’t think he was imagining the soft rosy hue to those perfect cheekbones but—maybe it was just the heat. God he was beautiful. “Okay! Okay it’s uhm. It’s almost one, so—So we should probably get everyone gathered together, would you like to take your minion back?” He offered Ellie back to her dad, who let out a soft chuckle at his daughters whine of disappointment, before plucking her from Eddie’s hands.

“But—But I wanna stay with Eddie” was the immediate complaint, which frankly melted Eddie’s already gooey heart even further.

“I know sweetheart, but Eddie’s gotta do Eddie things, yeah? We can hang out with Eddie after we find you some eggs, okay?” Eddie raised a single brow at the assumption, but Steve just offered an apologetic grin, sneaky sneaky, Mr. Harrington.

Especially sneaky since Ellie perked right up, chirping, “Okay!!” placated by the promise of Eddie time later making it impossible for Eddie to say no. Eddie couldn’t even be mad, he wanted Steve time too. Maybe not around some thirty kids and their parents, but… he wanted Steve time too.

“Alrighty” he didn’t refuse Eddie time, Ellie and Steve could have all the Eddie time. “Everyone, could I have your attention please!!” All eyes on him, he stepped to the front of the group “Behold my glorious little adventurers! Behind me is a park FILLED with possibilities. There are one hundred and fifty colourful plastic eggs hidden within this park, the more eggs you find, the bigger your Easter haul will be! Not only that, but somewhere, in this glorious wonderland of opportunity, is a SINGLE golden egg. The finder of such a treasure, will go home with the grand prize of the day, a brand-new bicycle, donated by one of the incredibly generous members of our community.” The excitement in the crowd only seemed to grow, be it for the chocolate, or the bike, Eddie didn’t know, he was just happy everyone was excited.

“To keep things fair, we’ll have staff members monitoring the hunt to ensure nobody steals any eggs from anyone. If you can’t hold any more eggs, you’re welcome to come and ‘bank’ them with the staff over here by the main gates, you’ll get a little slip with a number on it for how many eggs you’ve banked! Now. Are we all ready?” Ohhh they were ready “Aaaare we set?” They were set!! “Aaaand, GO!!”

Chaos. Complete and utter chaos descended upon that park in an instant. Kids diving into bushes, Parents climbing up trees, Eddie had hid at least three eggs on that jungle gym, but nobody had even checked there yet, too busy looking in bushes and—

“Get it, munchkin!!” Steve Harrington, with a little terrible terror on his shoulders, Ellie reaching up to the top of the climbing frame to grab the little green egg from where one of the girls had left it poking out of a post that’d lost its end cap, the larger rounded bottom of the egg resting in the top of the hollow tube perfectly. “Into the bucket! That’s my girl!”

Eddie could watch him all day. Could watch him climbing a tree to get the one egg Eddie had left up a tree, could watch him bent over -oh my god that shirt rode up and hello perfect ass- pushing his daughter up the tube slide to grab the little egg one of the girls had stuck to the inside of it with double sided sticky tape. Could watch Ellie running to her dad with an arm full of eggs she’d found half hidden in a shrub, could watch him celebrate by lifting her up and twirling her around all day long Eddie was so very screwed.

He could also watch, fascinated, by the way Ellie found the golden egg. She found it, all on her own while hunting in the bushes around the stump. She didn’t yell about it, she didn’t throw it into her bucket, she sneakily showed her dad, who glanced around him as if making sure nobody saw, then whispered something to her, Eddie didn’t know what the man said, but whatever he said, it had her hurrying off, egg in hand, eyes scanning the park and everyone in it for a little while, before very sneakily depositing the little egg into a bush and grabbing a boy by the shoulder to point at it for him.

“Look, look it’s the gold one!” She chirped, shaking the little boy, and nudging him toward it “you take it! Quick!” Now, Eddie knew all of Ellies friends in day care. And this little boy… wasn’t one of them. He was new, from a family who didn’t have much, relied on coupons and the generosity of the staff at the day care to keep him while his single mother worked long hours for low income.

It was something Eddie had to ask about, but he only got a chance to do that once everything was over. Once the prizes had been doled out, chocolate eggs, cool colouring sets, accessories, the bike to one VERY excited little boy and one baffled and emotional mother, Eddie sidled himself up to Team Harrington, the pair piling their haul into the trunk of Steve’s minivan?

The fuck did he need a mini van for being a parent of an only child? Didn’t matter.

“Sooo, was I seeing things, or did I see one very sneaky little lady giving away a bike earlier?” Ellie only giggled in mischievous glee as she hurried away with the biggest of her chocolate eggs, taking it to go gorge herself on chocolate by the swings, leaving her dad and her favourite day care person all by themselves in the carpark.

Steve smiled at him, amusement dancing in his beautiful hazel baby cow eyes good lord Eddie was so screwed for this man. “It’d have been a bit weird if the person who donated the bike took the bike home, don’t you think?” Surprise must have shown on his face because Steve continued “I knew people were donating stuff, so I uh… I got a few things together and Ellie’s uncle dropped them all off the other day.” Dustin had dropped them off, left the goods with one of the girls. Eddie hadn’t seen who’d left it all. “Didn’t think I’d be the only one donating something big but… I dunno, it’s nice to see it go to someone who’d appreciate it.” He wasn’t bragging, he wasn’t flaunting wealth, he seemed genuinely happy that some random kid now had a bike.

Don’t flirt with the parent, don’t flirt with the parent, don’t flirt with the—fuck it

“Uh… so uhm, stop me, if uh… if—if you’re not like… that way inclined but uhm… are you free on Friday? For uhm… dinner… maybe…?” It was out there, Steve was looking at him, eyes wide in surprise “shit—that was. Too forward. Super unprofessional, I’m sorry, ignore me I’ll just—I gotta—” he was about two seconds into running away when Steve grabbed his arm in a gentle but strong hold.

“Wait! Wait… like, a date?”

“…Yes?”

“Y-yeah! Yes, yeah, absolutely I’ll… I can uhm—Robin, my sister, she can look after Ellie, so yes, absolutely I am absolutely free on Friday. Let’s say… eight, I’ll pick you up? Maybe dinner at my place and a movie?” Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

Holy shit. “Eight and that, sounds perfect.” The love life, it has risen!

“Perfect, eight it is.” Hallelujah!!

[bamboozledbird]

his eyes, his mouth // stiles stilinski imagine

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Void!Stiles, fem!reader (she/her pronouns) Pairing: not actually unrequited Stiles x fem!reader Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: canon typical gore/violence, choking, non-con touching/kissing (nothing worse than the show), emetophobia (mentions, no details)  Tags: author is horny for classic lit and bad at titles and it shows Summary: Reader accepts Void's invitation to play even though she knows she's already lost. A/N: I'm on my teen wolf bullshit again icb. This is a rewrite of an old work of mine from 2014, and I did it for entirely selfish purposes. I need Void now, and my other work is in s1 smh.

The first time she saw brown eyes it was in her mother’s face, skin glistening with the sweat of labor and the adoration of motherhood. For a long time, she thought she’d never see eyes that full of feeling again—like a never-ending tree ring, like reeds taking root—and then, in the second grade, she met a boy with the round, brown eyes of a fawn. She helped him read without skipping over lines, he helped her make sense of fractions, and she stared at his eyes until it was time to go home. Over the years, she memorized every crack of amber and drizzle of honey until the sky was just a cloak of him, him, him. 

It was the eyes that gave Void away. He could replicate Stiles’s smile, the curl of his smirk, the pucker of his confusion—but the eyes. He couldn’t quite hide the hollowness, even when her own were shut tight.

She kept them closed now. Under the starless sky, she could only make out the vague shapes of deadening trees; it was easier to follow the ink-dipped path with her hands. Her fingers brushed against damp moss and sticky bark until she stumbled over a loose rock. The stone rolled into something solid, and the resounding thud sent her heart into her throat. Everything seemed to be a little more than it was out here in the dark—the shapes bigger, the sounds louder, the fear thicker—everything except for her. Like this, she was a scared little girl. Frantic. Small. Alone. 

She didn’t realize quite how small she was until she was enveloped with darkness, how small and how pathetically human—but here she was anyway: alone in the woods, blinded by the darkness of early morning, on her merry way to meet an immortal psychopath with an entire Japanese spirit army at his disposal. All this, simply because he told her to.

She’d known the text was from Stiles’s number before she even pulled her phone out from under her sleep-rumpled pillow. She knew because it was three in the morning. It seemed like he only ever needed her at three or five in the morning, and yet she always, always answered. She’d realized quickly, however, that this time it was Stiles’s number but it wasn’t his message. 

< Stiles 🤓☝️: > 

I know you always found Stiles so easily, but why don’t we see who’s the better hider? I’ll play fair this time, cross Stiles’s heart. I’ll even give you a hint:  The cock crew, The sky was blue: The bells in heaven Were striking eleven. ‘Tis time for this poor soul To go to heaven. In case you’re thinking about not showing up, you should probably know the consequences. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, if you don’t come out and play with me, I’ll have to take out one of your pieces, and your family is just so deliciously human. I’m afraid it would be permanent. 

The riddle wasn’t actually a riddle, and that was the entire point: both the author’s and Void’s. The only reason she knew the answer was because she loved James Joyce. Stiles knew that, so, of course, Void did too. He also knew that she’d know exactly which holly bush to stumble towards in the dark.

She reached the perimeter of a small clearing; the smell of pine and earth layered over the trickle of a shallow rivulet was achingly familiar. Tilting her head, she inched into the open area, wary of its uncanny resemblance to a stage, and came to a stop in front of a large stump nestled between thickets of holly. Even in the dark, her fingers found the clumsy letters chipped into wood by small, marshmallow-sticky hands. 

He had Stiles’s phone, but he hadn’t bothered with the usual needlessly complex charade. She could only assume that meant that this was the trick and she was the punchline.

“The fox burying his grandmother under a hollybush,” she broke the disquieting silence when the fine hairs on the back of her neck prickled like a rabbit that knew it was about to die. She’d heard a rabbit scream once; nothing ever sounded quite so terrible until she heard Stiles wake up from one of his nightmares. “Clever, but I’m a little young to be your grandma. Aren’t you, like, a zillion years old?” 

The Nogitsune exhaled against the knobs of her spine, his breath revoltingly warm and wet, “You could’ve let me have my dramatic entrance. I ask for so little.”

She pretended that her stomach was not churning and that she was not dying from this, “Sorry, next time a psycho killer asks me out, I’ll know better.” 

He clicked his tongue and slipped his hand over her shoulder, twisting a strand of her hair around his finger in slow, methodical twirls. “You really need to learn to mind your manners, baby; someday that lip of yours is going to get you into trouble,” he chided, mouth resting against the shell of her ear. 

She repressed a shudder and pulled his hand away from her by his wrist. He went surprisingly easy, delicate bones limp in her fingers. For a moment, she just gripped his clammy skin, digging her nails into pale flesh, waiting for him to do something. He didn’t. Void just sighed in her ear and hummed, “I know, baby. It’s just the moon, right? And the stars, and your favorite author in your favorite place with your favorite person—and they say romance is dead.”

It was the audible intake of breath as he smelled the jasmine and honeysuckle in her hair that finally cut through the heady haze swathed around her. She turned around and let go of his arm with a sharp push that sent her stumbling back a few steps. Void narrowed his eyes at her, and his slow smile made her sick, “Did I ruin it? C’mon, I gave you a hint; you tell me what he’d say if he were here.”

 "Is this really why you made me get out of bed at 3:00 am? To roleplay?” she sounded much braver than she felt. 

Void grinned again, all teeth and bad intentions, and she thought of the way Stiles’s eyes looked with his smirk wrapped around her straw as he stole a sip from her cup. It was more vanilla creamer than coffee, and his cheeks had hollowed from the sickening sweetness. She’d wanted to kiss him then for the same reason she wanted to climb on every sculpture that read, ‘look, but do not touch.’ Had that really only been a month ago?

Void slunk forward, agile and lithe like a big cat, and the flash of his smile in the dim light was a scalpel against her throat, “Maybe. Isn’t that why you came to find me in the middle of the night?” He stopped a few inches in front of her and canted his head, “All alone, no wolves or hunters to interrupt us, even though I didn’t tell you to keep it to yourself. You did that all on your own, baby. Such a good girl.” 

His jaw softened slightly, and he rounded his eyes into a twisted mask of pity. He must’ve been able to hear her heart bruising against her ribs; she could feel the echo vibrating her stapes. Her lips parted, but her mouth went cottony when his hand trailed over her collarbone and came to a stop along the slender slope of her throat. “It’s just us now; you can tell me,” his voice was gentle, almost a coo, as his fingers squeezed slightly, thumb pressing into her carotid. “You can pretend it’s him. I won’t mind.” 

“You’d get off on that, huh,” she was horrified to realize that her voice was wet and thick, completely wrecked, like she’d been crying for hours. Void’s eyes, dark and endless, flickered over her face as he sucked in a breath through his teeth—savoring her misery. “Knowing how much I want him—how much I hate you.”

His grip around her neck tightened briefly, but he relaxed his joints after a shallow exhale, struggling to pace himself. Overindulgence, she mused, that was probably his only weakness. “Don’t be like that, baby,” he smoothed his thumb over her pulse and grinned manically when it rabbited under his touch, “you’d get something too, and we both know this is the only way you’re gonna get it.” His wistful sigh stirred the soft hairs framing her face. “The boy doesn’t have much taste, I’m afraid, but I have to admit in this case,” Void’s gaze darted from her panting mouth to her heaving chest as she struggled for meager mouthfuls of air, “it’s worked out splendidly for me.” 

If she could just stop seeing blurry splotches for a moment, maybe she could think of something to do other than gape at him like a fucking fish. At least, she couldn’t quite make out the lines and curves of Stiles’s stolen face like this. He would be so disappointed; the thought struck her in the stomach, and she might have gagged if her trachea had the space for it. He would be so disappointed that she’d been stupid enough to traipse into the forest to play house with a demonic spirit without backup. How? How could you be so fucking stupid? She could hear Stiles screaming at her in her head, almost felt his long fingers pinching her biceps as he tried to shake the stupid out of her. Not how, Stiles. Why. But she could never tell him the why; the why was possibly even more foolish than following the devil in the dark. At the very least, it was infinitely more cliché and endlessly more pathetic.

“I knew you were going to be my favorite.” She felt the words more than she heard them. Void’s dry lips brushed over her cheek, and then he dragged his mouth towards her jaw, more like a taste than a kiss, “I knew you’d be fucking exquisite.” 

Her vision narrowed into pinpricks as his mouth crowded over hers, and with her last grasp of consciousness, she bit down on his lip. Hard. She fell to the ground with the coppery tang of blood on her tongue. Like pennies, she thought faintly as she watched honied amber eyes swim in the night sky, tastes like pennies. 

**************************

When she finally woke up, she immediately wished she hadn’t. Her throat was rubbed raw with pain, and the left side of her body was sore to the bone. She hissed as she accidentally pressed into a blooming bruise just over her hip. It took her a moment to hone in on the ratty velvet couch and concrete floor: Derek’s loft, then. That was good. If she were dead, she would’ve picked just about anywhere else as the backdrop for her afterlife. 

“You’re awake.” Stiles’s voice was flat, but his eyes were his and only his. 

Her fingers skittered away from her skin to grab at the thin blanket draped over her legs, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Knock much?”

He didn’t look amused; he didn’t even roll his eyes. She had only seen Stiles well and truly angry a few times in her life and never at her. Heat sparked along her spinal column, and no matter how many times she swallowed her throat stayed dry. 

“Look…” she cleared her throat and bit down on her bottom lip, wincing as pain sliced through the flesh—it was split open. When the hell had that happened? Frowning, she licked away the small trickle of blood from the reopened cut and slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position, “I know what you’re thinking. You’re probably, like, five seconds away from laying into me with a hyperbole-heavy lecture, but can you just save it until I’ve taken a few painkillers and iced my fuckin’ knee. Much appresh.” 

“You have no fucking idea what I’m thinking,” his tone was even, almost numb, but his eyes—his eyes gave him away. The amber was molten, and her head swam with the desire to burn in it. 

Her leg jittered. “So,” the heel of her foot tapped against the stone floor, shooting aching jolts up her leg to her slightly swollen kneecap, “you aren’t thinking that I’m at least three levels above Jar Jar on the dumbassery scale? Like, it’s Jar Jar, Nedry, Condiment King, Goku, then me.” Her calf throbbed as she rolled her ankle and then pushed her foot up onto the toe of her muddy sneaker, trying to bounce silently. Stiles clocked it immediately. Of course, he did. It was his move.

Sighing, Stiles knelt down so that he wasn’t looming over her anymore and squeezed her unbruised knee until her foot slowed to a stop. “You know it goes: Nedry, Condiment King, you, Goku, and then Jar Jar," he ended his sentence with his hand hovering a few centimeters above your nose.

“Thank god.” The corner of her mouth wobbled as she tried to smile, “I think I hit my head on the way down, though. Possibly lost a few brain cells.”

Stiles winced, and the couch dipped with his weight as he sat down. His thigh was warm against hers. “Let me see,” he gently parted her hair, long fingers gently searching for any blood or bumps. She couldn't help but notice his mouth when he was this close; it was puffy and pink, most likely from using it as a chew toy while pacing a hole in the floor. She was frozen, paralyzed with wanting.

Her chest stuttered as her breath hitched. “You’re supposed to say somethin’ like, ‘Oh no, you didn’t have that many to begin with,’ or, ‘What will your other one have to fight with now,’” her voice was high and breathy, but she hoped he’d just write it off as pain or being slightly-concussed. 

Stiles managed a weak smile until he accidentally pressed into a tender spot on the side of her head. She sucked in sharply, air whooshing between her teeth, and he immediately reached for her with his other hand. Like it was instinct. Like it was the only thing he knew. Stiles threaded their fingers together and squeezed as he carefully brushed the pad of his thumb over the same spot on her scalp, “There?”

“Mhm,” she was breathless, grateful he was intensely focused on the shallow cut just above her ear so that he couldn't see the wild look in her eyes.

“What did he…” Stiles licked over his teeth, grimacing, and stared at the pronounced veins in his pale wrist, “what did he say when he…had you…like that?” The words sounded painful, like barbed wire raking over his tongue. He couldn’t look at her; she wasn’t sure she wanted him to.

“Oh you know,” she hoped he couldn’t feel her heartbeat where his fingers were pressed against her skull, “the usual maniacal, narcissistic rambling.” She lowered her voice to a gravelly pitch even though it tugged at her bruised windpipe, “‘I’m what killed the dinosaurs. I’m inevitable.’ All the final boss monologuing clichés.” 

Stiles searched her face for something. She smiled a little, and his responding smile was just as small, just as tired, but he seemed satisfied with her expression. He sat back and withdrew his hand from her hair, but he kept his thigh needlessly close to feel the warmth, the blood flow, the undeniable proof that she was here. “He Thanosed you?” Stiles arched a brow and dropped his arm over the back of the couch behind her head—close, but never close enough. Always a few inches away from where she wanted him.

“He did live in your head for a while there,” she sighed softly and drooped a bit into his side, chasing his body heat like a cat, curling in on him like a comma. 

Stiles hummed a little in recognition, drumming his fingers in a soft pitter-patter just behind her shoulder. “And that’s everything? He didn’t…that’s it?” 

She looked over at him. His jaw was tight and so were the tendons in his neck as he bit at his raw cuticles, on the verge of shaking or puking. His cheek fit perfectly in her palm, and she wanted him so badly she might split in two, “That’s it.”

[fujii-draws]

VERY long Ribbons/Grovyle tangent cause I do not talk about them nearly enough.

[Instead of the usual, “Hero finding a young Treecko in the future.” It’s switched around to “What if Grovyle found Hero when they were young.”]

~The Past~

—————

-Grovyle was going on one of his usual dungeon crawls to stock up on items— until he heard nearby sniffling. It’s there in that moment where he finds Ribbons; hiding under the stump of a hollow tree curled up in a ball. The sight of a small, terrified girl burned in the back of the wood gecko’s mind.

He lowered himself to the ground, his snout and head poking out as he got a good look at the human— Something that made her reel back and startled her; before Grovyle offered her a smile. Something the stoic grass-type rarely ever did. Coaxing her to come out.

And although very hesitantly, she did. Slowly coming out before he extended a hand towards her. Helping her outside the stump.

Grovyle didn’t know why… but seeing her so disheveled and terrified… it reminded the grass-type of himself when he was a Treecko. He decides to then to take Ribbon’s under his wing. Holding her hand as he walked her back to his main hideout… with the company of two other Pokémon.

-He introduced the small human to the pink fairy and ghost-type. Celebi was overwhelmingly cheerful. So much so that her mischievous energy rubbed off on Ribbons in the future. Much to Grovyle and Dusclops(and eventually Dusknoir’s) dismay…

But it was also probably why Ribbons made it her mission to use this newfound ability from the fairy-type to do the impossible— to get Grovyle to smile. A rarity in which even the time-traveling pixie and cyclopean ghost never managed to accomplish. Ribbons remembered how the grass-type done so just to comfort her during their first meeting… and she wanted to see it again.

-She tried many times with her antics, only to end in failure. Barely making a dent in the grass-type’s stoic demeanor. The first time she managed to get a chuckle made the other two stare wide-eyed towards the snickering grass-type— and back at the human, somehow being the only one to ever make him emote so much. She didn’t know why he tried to hide his smile. She loved it. (And Grovyle did not overhear this detail and began to open up only specifically around her because of it. Nope.) (and it’s not a power she holds over him for many years to come.)

(That isn’t to say Ribbon’s didn’t slightly rub off on him too, with her naivety and innocent, trusting behavior. Grovyle being much, much more reserved and cautious… before she came along.)

-Dusclops… was interested. A human? In the future no less? It was unheard of.

…But he also thought that Ribbons would be a detriment to their group with how… little and runt sized she’d been, barely surviving as is. Acting rather closed off towards the human at first, not trying to get attached. That is until she begins seeking Dusclops out. Trying to befriend the slightly large mummy-looking Pokémon. Although slowly— she ends up winning him over. The Beckon Pokémon now having unintentionally formed a bond with the weakest link in their quartet due to how… oddly endearing she was. A mistake he’d repeat yet again in the present.

Even with her dimensional scream ability making Ribbons a somewhat useful assest to the team— the three take on the roll of her guardians in a weird way. Dusclops being the one to fret the most over her despite his dismissive behavior towards her in the beginning (hm.)

And then there’s Grovyle.

The one who probably spent the most time with her. He saw just how terrified and scared she was of the world around her. Grovyle tried his best to teach her how to survive— training her physically. (as Dusclops taught her mentally/intellectually)

Something Grovyle started to notice was how her demeanor changed when the grass-type was close. Acting almost… braver? Confident? It was like she was drawing her strength from him… something that made the grass-type a little emotional as her confidence grew more with each day. (She told him as much. Hoping some day she could be a role model to someone the same way Grovyle was to her.)

…He also noticed that the humans were also really susceptible to the cold, much like his cold-blooded lizard self—the brunette-haired girl having no real source of warmth around her neck… Grovyle dug through his matted Treasure bag, asking for her to come over. Before tying on a brown, Patsy ribbon around her neck. An item that she’d grow to love and cherish for many, many years.

The human girl absolutely adored the gift, thanking Grovyle before hugging him suddenly. Running off to show the other two her newfound item.

-She’d fidget and re-tie it whenever it slightly loosened around her neck… it was then the grass-type Pokémon finally decided on a name for her. Up until that point, she didn’t have a name— the other three opting to call her things like “human girl” “sweetie” or “kid/kiddo” (Dusclops, Celebi, and Grovyle in that order.)

So when Grovyle decided that her new name would be “Ribbons”… she kept it.

(this also explained why when inside of Wigglytuff’s room… Ribbons stared at the Green Aura Bow, before rejecting the item harshly. Her claws gripping onto the brown scarf around her neck.) (…although the color of the bow comforted her)

-The two end up forming an unspoken familial bond. Ribbons seeing Grovyle as her older brother… and the grass-type did her baby sister. This was further solidified by the way Ribbons followed him everywhere and copied his mannerisms. All the way down to his scrunched up, embarrassed face. (Something that greatly entertained the other two Pokémon.) Even if Grovyle wasn’t the best at showing how much she meant to him with his sternness for her to stay hidden and close whenever they traveled, or for her to stop goofing off so much, or his relatively stoicalness… Ribbons knew he did so because of how much he cared. He cared too much. Not wanting anything bad happening to her to the point that he’d more often than not sacrifice things to his detriment, but for her benefit. (Offering her all of the apples he found, taking the brunt of the damage from vicious Pokémon… ) It was one of the main things the two argued over.

-This… was also something Ribbons picked up on and inherited besides his courage. Something that Grovyle never forgave himself for. He never wanted her to adopt his self-destructive, reckless behavior.

-Another thing was his inability to tell her the full truth. He never wanted to scare her with the information of their disappearances. So the grass-type never told Ribbons (and made sure the other two promised him to never do so aswell.) (Until Dusknoir promptly breaks said promise out of desperation to tell Ribbons the gravity of their situation after the Stoneship fight. Grovyle glaring daggers towards the Ghost-type before hearing Ribbon’s quiet, yet terrified “W-What..?” Falling back on her old fears when she was once human—Grovyle taking his attention fully off of Dusknoir to try and comfort her.)

But even after any heated argument. Grovyle will find the human girl coming back to sleep right next to him on his hay bed, still very much frustrated with the lizard… but not pushing her away when she snuggled up to him. Grovyle reciprocated the hug right back— putting his head over hers.

Out of her relationships with the three, her bond with Grovyle was the most unbreakable.

…So when Darkrai threw the attack that disoriented the two, Grovyle gripping Ribbons’s arm as tightly as possible. His claws beginning to even tear into her skin. (A scar on her paw that never went away. She uses it as a reminder to show the woodland gecko how hard he tried to save her whenever he felt guilty.) Trying so desperately to not lose her— even if it meant being thrown out of the passage of Time aswell—

…It’s Ribbons who lets go, smiling up so brokenly at her older brother, before disappearing out the passage. And the grass-type can only watch in horror, as the self-sacrificial behavior Ribbons inherited from him came back to bite Grovyle in the worst way imaginable.

By the time Grovyle lands in the present— his claws are trembling wildly. Not even realizing his own tears began to mix in with the rain from the thunderstorm.

——————

~The Present~

——————

When he’s collecting the Time Gears alone— the desperation of it all comes back full force. If he lost her, the least he can do is finish this mission. For the future. For her.

-When Grovyle sees Ribbons for the first time in the Northern Desert, he doesn’t recognize her as an Eevee. But the item around her neck and voice both sound so eerily similar. As if this random Pokémon was haunting him for his past failures. If anything, the similarities make Grovyle even more angry towards the quadraped Pokémon.

-Crystal lake… really sucked. Before, Ribbons didn’t know what to feel about Grovyle. On one hand, he was a wanted criminal. Threatening the lives of every single Pokémon. But on the other hand… she felt so… sad? And guilty? Why would she feel guilty? And why was it that he was apologizing every single time for every little thing he’d done? Like he’d lost his confidence in his abilities? Why does it matter. He’s a horrible, rotten— no good Pokémon…

-It was when Ribbons had to helplessly watch as he nearly killed Aimilios that her resolve did a complete 180°. The Eevee being prepared to do whatever to took to get him caught. Joining the cloaked ghost in the library whenever she could, (even if she wasn’t as smart as the Great Dusknoir or her Riolu partner. She wanted to at least give them company and be there for moral support.)

And when he’s finally… finally caught. Tied up as the Sableye walked him through the town as they cheered… Ribbons isn’t celebrating. She should be. She should be happy. So why does she feel a horrible gut feeling when their eyes meet in the crowd? And he looks seconds away from breaking down…?

-

-The whole future arc is a rollercoaster of emotions for the Eevee. Although she’s immediately with Grovyle on the plan to help him escape— she does not trust him so quick.

-No. That time was over. The second Dusknoir tried to kill them, both her (and soon Aimilios’s) tendencies to trust Pokemon blindly were thrown out the window. They’re both are glaring daggers at him when he suggests that they trust him. That ‘If he was so untrustworthy, how would they explain what Dusknoir had done back there?’ Ribbons protectively gets in-front of her partner— hissing back that ‘They aren’t going to trade one lunatic trying to kill them for another. Or did Grovyle already forget about the little incident at Azelf’s lake?’

…And even though her and Aimilios do feel safer around him. (Gut feeling/aura sensing) it just feels so terrifying to trust someone again after what the giant wraith did to them. Not only that, but he was offering to take them back to their world… so they cautiously agreed.

It’s... strange. The way he’d called out for her and Aimilios to get away when Spiritomb had him in their grasp. When they traversed dungeons as he took as many hits as possible for them…the familiarity is almost nauseating.

And when Dusknoir reveals everything, the two only stare at the cloaked ghost-type cackling. The same one they both once thought was their friend.

She and Grovyle only stare at eachother as a painful amount of time passes by. He..

He tried to kill her.

She was still alive and he almost—

The realization is what makes him give up. To concede. Begging Dusknoir to just do away with him and let the other go. Let her go.

—

-When they’re in the Sharpedo Bluff during the nighttime— Grovyle explains the situation to the two… staring at Ribbons with hopeful eyes, sharing recollections of how they once were. Of how close they’d been. Hoping that it’d re-jog her memory now that he was there to explain the situation.

…Ribbons only stares. Guilt eating away the more Grovyle retold their supposed history. How the hope slowly died in his eyes little by little when he looked at the Eevee— seeing that same, clueless expression on her face.

One of Ribbons biggest fears when it came to her amnesia was forgetting someone important to her. Always having the dreaded feeling of losing three important Pokémon to her. And now one of them was trying to kill them. Aimilios reassured her many nights that it wasn’t the case. So for that fear to become a reality— her ears slump, the Eevee’s messy, leaf-and-twigged tail curling around her in anxiety. She wants to apologize— but she only breaks away eye contact.

She forgot. She wants to remember. But she can’t she can’t she can’t-

Ribbons sees Grovyle trying to reach out for her— only for the small quadruped to back away. Still too touch-adverse from everything that went down with Dusknoir. All the Eevee can do is watch Grovyle’s expression turned into a pained one. Trying to hide the hurt in his eye with a wry smile as he slowly retracted his arm, ”Ah… right. Too soon. Forgive me.”

…It’s a very rough night on the two of them. Both Pokémon completely unaware that they’d been trying to fight back the tears threatening to spill in their eyes. Eventually overwhelming and awakening the aura pup.

-

When they rode Lapras, presumably for many hours by now by how night fell, white stars scattering across the sky as it reflected in the dark blue sea. The Riolu had slept soundly— something that couldn’t be said for the other two.

Ribbon’s curled around her partner as he slept, grooming his fur with her tongue… before looking over towards the grass-type; something very much on his mind.

Grovyle looked pensively down towards Lapras’s shell— recalling Wigglytuff’s comment about how Chatot had been his ‘invaluable partner.’ The woodland gecko gripping the strap of his treasure bag. Unaware of the Eevee slowly approaching him. He stares— unsure of what to do. The last time they’d talked was at the Bluff, when she backed away from him in fear.

…Ribbons plopped right next to the grass-type, waiting for the uncomfortable silence to pass. When she realized he wasn’t going to cut the tension, she opted to ask the lizard what she was thinking about since their talk at the bluff.

“What was it like…?”

“What…?”

“Y-yknow…W-When we were together… What was it like?”

The small Eevee repeated. Wanting to hear stories of their times together… Memory or no memory— she hated seeing Grovyle upset. Something that was practically built into her. Like it’d been second nature.

Grovyle hesitates, afraid of a repeat of last time. He looks at Ribbons who was staring up coyly… before going on to explain and further elaborate on their history. He studied her expressions, trying to get a read on when he should stop… only to be greeted with an cheerful look on her face. The same, goofy one plastered on her human-self.

Grovyle calms at the sight, continuing to looks back on memories— preferably the more lighthearted ones the woodland gecko fondly looked back on. Although within those silly memories were times when Ribbons did… admittedly some of the dumbest things he’d witnessed during their time in the future.

What makes him smile even more is how she began to look more offended. Until she’d gotten fed up with the grass-type. Claiming that she would never do anything so blatantly stupid— and that she had a scale of stupidity she was abiding by— Chatot’s words, not hers.

This gets a chuckle from the grass-type… something that almost immediately warms the Eevee’s heart. She hesitates a littles before scooting closer, fully laying her body beside Grovyle as he continued to recollect stories of their past together… listening to the older Pokémon’s droning… until she fell asleep.

…

Now Grovyle is faced with another problem. And it was in the form of his little sister sleeping soundly right next to him.

…

He knows what’ll happen to them when he puts in the Time Gears.

He knows he’ll never get another chance like this again.

…

He lays his body near Ribbon’s, curling around her tiny body protectively. Before getting what was probably the most sleep he did since he arrived in the Present…

…What he fails to notice in his comatose-like sleep… is how Ribbons scooted closer into him, cleaning his face/leaf with her tounge… before curling into Grovyle— putting her head under the grass-type’s. Purring contently.

———

…When they’re traversing through the Hidden land, the same arguments when they did in the future about Grovyle’s recklessness. Although this time around— Ribbons had been calling the kettle black in this regard. The Grass and Normal type Pokémon going back and forth… before falling silent.

And when the ghost-type returned a second time to ambush the three Pokémon, Ribbons and Aimilios opted to fight the Sableye. Meanwhile, Grovyle took on Dusknoir—Which proved to be nearly impossible. It was only when the Sableye were dealt with and the two joined Grovyle on his assault on the wraith, that Dusknoir’s attacks begun to.. slow?

They fought and fought, Ribbons having managed to get in a really nasty Bite that made the cloaked revenant roar out in pain; unintentionally slamming her against a pillar. Hard. Grovyle yells her name, trying to run to Ribbons— before being intercepted by a large fist being mercilessly being swung his way. Not offering the same hesitation he did with the young Eevee and Riolu. If there was anyone Dusknoir was willing to kill— it was him.

It was when Dusknoir gripped the Riolu to the point of him whining out in pain— that the Grass-type’s adrenaline and anger made his body move harshly to knock down the ghost-type with the slice of a Leaf Blade. Getting protectively infront of his sister …and the Riolu Grovyle had begun to start considering as his little brother. His eyes turning into cat-like slits, glaring at the revenant.

———

Dusknoir hit the Eevee a second time when the two were distracted— Ribbon’s having cried out in pain, wincing from the hit she received from the large ghost-type— closing her eyes as she anticipated for him to finished her off—

Before Grovyle shielded her— and began shoving him into the Dimensional hole.

Grovyle could only smile to himself despite how much he was struggling to keep the giant wraith at bay— Dusknoir nearly breaking out of the wood gecko’s hold.

So many times. He failed to protect Ribbons. So many times. And now…

“Though the parting hurts… the rest is in your hands!”

He could finally make it up to her.

——————

~The Future~

———————

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Ribbons nearly broke Grovyle’s ribcage when he returned to the present, berating and screaming at him so angrily for leaving her the way he did… while hugging him in tears as she bawled her eyes out— Grovyle reciprocating the hug with as much strength as the Eevee.

…So when she saw Dusknoir and ran, he was the one to chase after her. Celebi having stayed back with Aimilios to explain the situation to the equally confused and afraid Riolu.

-The Eevee’d hidden under another hollowed tree stump, her entire body frizzing up at the sound of the woodland gecko calling out to her. Ribbon’s brows furrowed in anger despite her fear, yelling at him for bringing the ghost-type back. Grovyle tries to fit himself inside the tiny hollowed area… before curling around Ribbons— gently explaining the situation with the cloaked ghost. He apologizes for bringing Dusknoir without warning. Knowing that he should’ve better prepared those two.

-It’s because of Ribbons refusal to be anywhere near/talk to Dusknoir, that the Eevee has the opportune time to reconnect with Grovyle. Spending the first three years to catch up, talk, do jobs, drink at Spinda’s. Becoming even comfortable enough to start bantering with eachother, and squabbling like siblings. (and yes they partake in Cain Instinct ™️ through harmless paw baps/“oh no gravity’s increasing on me” “YOURE CRUSHING ME YOU ROTTEN BROTHER.”) Those two being practically attached to the hip as they constantly stayed side by side. Even having slept in the same hay-bed together the first year. (Separation anxiety is doing wonders.)

Grovyle is also Ribbon’s go-to hiding spot from Dusknoir whenever he’s near— not-so-discreetly hiding behind the woodland gecko anytime he’d gotten close. Something that he was more than willing to do, being a barrier being the giant specter and minuscule Eevee.

Grovyle is also the one constantly reminding Ribbons that if she feels uncomfortable/unsafe around Dusknoir, that she can come to him at any moment. And he’d talk to him. (Or smack him upside the head with a leaf blade, earning the gecko a laugh from his little sister.)

But… He knows she’s lying through her fangs when she says she’s fine with him being around. (Chalk that up to Older brother instincts) Which is why Grovyle goes to Dusknoir anyways to tell him to minimize his presence around her as much had possible in the beginning— something the wraith was already ahead/aware of.

-The Eevee also tries to repay the favor by reminding Grovyle that he actually isn’t the POS, horrible brother he thinks himself to be with the amount of times he failed to save her. Redirecting his attention to her paw scar and nuzzling the self-deprecating grass-type. Grovyle doesn’t believe himself to be the right guardian for her… but she trusts him anyways.

-And you KNOW by the time she evolves— he’s fighting back a copious amount of tears. (Dusknoir might be getting choked up over Ribbons and Aimilios’s evolutions— but Grovyle looks like he’s seconds away from actually tearing up. Just so happy to be alive to witness his baby sister having the chance to actually grow up.)

—————

Anyways!! that’s what I have for now!!!! Just mainly putting this here to give more insight to their dynamic :) (as well as have a little library of drawing ideas for Grovyle/Ribbons when the mood strikes.)

[vickysaurus]

(Image, as well as much of my information, from Carboniferous Giants and Mass Extinction by George R. McGhee Jr.)

Take a look at this tree. On a scale of 1 to 10, how weird do you think it is?

You quite possibly just gave it a 3 or a 4 or something. Sure, it's a little odd, but does look vaguely normal, right? A friend of mine guessed it was some sort of baobab when I showed him the image.

This is, in fact Lepidodendron, an ancient tree from the Carboniferous, and by modern tree standards it is absolutely bizarre. Its closest surviving relatives, quillworts and clubmosses, only grow to a height of a few centimetres, yet Lepidodendron were giants that shot up to 50 metres tall... Briefly, before dispersing their spores and completely dying off.

(Lycopodium and Spinulum, modern relatives of Lepidodendron, photos by Bernd Haynold and Pete Pattavina)

You see, Lepidondron lived like a gigantic dandelion. For most of its life, it was a stumpy little thing that stuck close to the ground. Just an odd scaly green stump with some long leaves poking out. The green scales its bark consisted of were the place it conducted its photosynthesis, and thus basically did the work of leaves. The Lepidodendron would stay like this for a couple years, slowly expanding its roots and getting ready for the next step. But its roots would grow mostly horizontally, down not so much! And part of why is that even they had the scaly leaf-like photosynthetic bark. That's right, even their roots could - and to some extend needed to - photosynthesise!

(Fossil Lepidodendron bark in the National Museum of Brazil, photo by Dornicke; a fossilised relative of Lepidodendron with some of its roots visible, photo by Michael C. Rygel)

So why would you ever try to photosynthesise with your roots of all things as a plant? Surely it would make much more sense to just transport the sugars created in other parts there than to have your roots be so shallow that bits of them can catch a little light and make it in situ? Sure, if you're capable of that! This is what modern trees do, but they have two separate vascular tissues they use for transport: xylem, which moves water from the roots to the rest of the plant, and phloem, which moves sugars and other photosynthetic products from the leaves to the rest of the plant. Unfortunately for Lepidodendron, it only had xylem, no phloem, so its sugars were only ever going to move as far as they could diffuse, so every part of the tree needed to have at least a little photosynthesis happening, even the roots.

This truly gets ridiculous when the Lepidodendron decides after a few years of charging up that it's time to reproduce. That's when the weird green stump we have so far starts shooting up, up, up, very quickly, all the way until an enormous 40 or 50 metres in height. Now, modern trees grow this large by being supported by a sturdy wooden core, but that's not what Lepidodendron did. To hold up the entire tree, it relies entirely on its outer bark thickening as it grows. In mechanical terms, it was little more than a huge hollow pole, probably creaking and swaying terribly in the wind. Although I have not been able to confirm this in the literature so far, I suspect that between the shallow roots and the whole thing being held up by its bark, you could probably total a Lepidodendron with a good kick.

Now remember, all this growth is happening without phloem, so the entire length of that stem has to not just be sturdy enough to keep the tree standing, but it also has to keep doing photosynthesis to feed itself. When it reaches its full height, the top of the tree finally starts sprouting branches and small leaves, leaving it looking like the picture at the start. But those are not what it's all about for the tree: the cones that develop among them are. At a height of 50 metres, the spores produced by the cones can very easily be picked up by the wind and blown far, far away. Being spores, rather than seeds as modern trees have, they have no supplies built in whatsoever, so they need to get lucky to land in a spot that has immediate access to water. Luckily, there are a lot of those in the vast Carboniferous swamps, and with the trees doing so much work to spread the spores very widely, some of them are sure to find good spots. And then, with the spores dispersed, the tree is done for. The entire thing, which has just grown to the skies, dies off and soon comes crashing down.

So how weird is this tree? I'd call it a perfect 10.