#lichens you get to stay because I love you

[worldbuilding-tomfoolery]

Diagram of plants based on how well they handle general stress and the apocalypse

(please reblog for sample size! we want a good quality ecological study!!)

[sunbloomdew]

Tamarack & Qiu about the Forest and the Neighbourhood

Recently I’ve been playing various visual novel games, and I stumbled upon the Our Life series. Needless to say, I am deeply in love with it. While playing the “Our Life: Now & Forever” game demo, I noticed the character’s different opinions about their environment. It’s a simple observation but I really wanted to share it, so here I am!

Depending on which character we meet up with first when we embark on our paper airplane message investigation, they will express their thoughts on the forest and the town.

(I'll be referring to Qiu with he/him pronouns, as these are the ones that are used for this character in childhood!)

Qiu likes the forest, but prefers the town over it. To him that is the centre of activity in Golden Grove.

He says that aside from the seasons changing it's like time doesn't exist in the forest. The fauna and flora there are all the same at all times, and he finds it weird.

I think that because the life in the forest changes in very subtle ways, he doesn't really considers that important. The plants grow but it's not like they move to different spots. They stay in one place, like the path in the forest.

That's why the neighbourhood and the town, where other people live is more appealing to him. It's much easier to notice when something changes in a more lively space, and those developments tend to be more dynamic too, as such they can appear more interesting. Especially for kids. Since their attention span tends to be short, faster occurring shifts capture their attention better.

On the other hand, Tamarack openly expresses her dislike of the town.

To her, the town is the very opposite of fun. The buildings are old and dusty, and the people don't do anything. As she describes it, they sit around all the time.

Tamarack finds the town stagnant and boring because of that. The buildings look the same and stay in one place. You can decorate them, but they are always structures, constructed with a set purpose in mind.

I can't quite understand the meaning behind these words: "Nobody is going anywhere or doing anything. They just live in this place, sit around, and do that forever." If I had to provide an interpretation of those words, I'd say what Tamarack means by them, is that people have assigned roles in the community and certain habits that make it seem like their life are same, unchanging routine. That does not appeal to her in the slightest.

In stark contrast to Qiu, Tamarack considers the forest a place where everything constantly evolves.

She pays attention to the way nature is alive on its own. The tree may not walk around, but it's bark overgrows with lichen and fungi, that spread, or get eaten, or grow sick and die. The animals collect food, branches to build shelter and move from place to place. Those small changes, that occur all the time, forever, fascinate Tamarack.

As she puts it:

I found it interesting how Qiu and Tamarack focus on different signs of life, and are basically opposites in their view of those two places. To Qiu the town is exciting because there is always something going on there with people, but Tamarack thinks they do the same forever. Qiu may see neighbours talk to eachother everyday and find it interesting because they discuss different topics, but to Tamarack, they are just doing the same activity all the time, which is boring. On the contrary, Tamarack thinks the forest is magical in the way it constantly transforms, but Qiu sees it as a place without any sort of changes going on there, which unnerves him. I find those two views of the same spaces really interesting.

Later when the trio walks to school for the first time, Qiu is baffled when Tamarack states that the forest is the only good place around.

(She says that regardless if MC likes or dislikes the woods. If our character likes them, Qiu says the dialogue above. If not, he will say: "Hey, so, it's kind of funny how you like the woods that much." referring to Tamarack alone.)

While they have different opinions on these places, it's nice that they don't argue over it. Would I have expected this to happen? No, but it's still good that it doesn't.

It's not a groundbreaking observation, but I enjoyed thinking about it and writing this post nonetheless. I'm looking foward to learning more about those two! They are both so adorable. I can't wait to become best friends with them <3

Peace out (❁´◡`❁)

[letters-to-rosie]

another fic idea: the timebomb Howl's Moving Castle AU

Ekko's Moving Treehouse!

blatantly inspired by @redrum-alice's FANTASTIC artwork and developed in collaboration with @lullabyes22-blog, because I've been fawning over the art since it was posted and I just knew there had to be a way this could work because it was so cute and the potential just jumped off the page for me

(you've probably seen it but go look at it if you haven't it's so good)

me and Lullabyes have both read the book and seen the movie, so we combined a lot of ideas from both versions, and this is the result so far:

so Silco is the Witch of the Waste lol

Jinx's curse turns her eyes pink (and they stay that way, like Sophie's hair turning white!)

our girl is on a journey of ✨self-discovery✨ and to find her family. Silco does not understand why and just wants her to come home for dinner lol

instead of happening upon Ekko, Jinx goes looking for him because she heard there's a wizard wandering around who helps people

Ekko's castle is a treehouse, and the roots walk!

Jinx: "What a stupid way to treat a tree!" DX (a book line lol)

Jinx keeps arguing with the curse and it weirds Ekko out but she's just arguing with Silco lol

Ekko is a big grump because he gave his heart away to protect it after so much loss 😭

Jinx does not clean his house. she just redecorates. she draws on everything, including the Wall of the Fallen, and Ekko is thisssss close to strangling her at all times but he's promised to help

Jinx: "Ya gotta inject some levity into this narrative!" /casually breaks 4th wall

Silco's henchpeople keep showing up and Ekko fights them off but they're just trying to get Jinx to come back for dinner

Silco: "Discover? What are you discovering? Gold? Dinner's getting cold!"

at some point Jinx will have to cut up Ekko's clothes mwahaha

Ekko has the Slime Meltdown™ because Jinx breaks his hoverboard and he needs to be airborne and free or else there's no point in living

Heimerdinger is Madame Sullivan/Suliman, Ekko's old magic teacher who tells Jinx she's a witch like in the book 🪄

he even has the intro that makes him appear all spooky at first before his furball nature is revealed

maybe instead of giving life to things she animates machines???

they have a cute breakfast scene in Ekko's treehouse where Jinx eats real fruit the first time

Vi leaves a flare lit for Jinx all this time, and Ekko helps her find it

we didn't discuss this, but I think it would be interesting if Vi was Turnip Head, trying to communicate through Jinx throughout the story and maybe pushing her into situations that she doesn't really want (which has to do with how we're imagining the ending; Vander could also be Warwick instead and serve the same purpose???? wait I'm cooking here)

I also want Ajuna to be Michael/Markl lol

the end of the story sees Jinx decide to be true to herself; even though she knows that Silco and Vi both love her, she's gotta do her own thing

despite being super annoying lol she helps Ekko live in the moment and get his heart back, and they fall for each other and it's mushy as hell okay

"She's like very decorative lichen growing on his tree and he can't get rid of her, so by the story's end she's just become part of the natural treescape."

and at the end they keep traveling in the treehouse to see the world and help people and so Jinx can come into her witch powers

probably would be easy to insert all the war themes

Jinx coming into her own and being cute, Ekko learning to love again after this woman just barges into his life, family themes, romance, what more could we want???

[evolutionsvoid]

The strange creatures that are found in the Underworld never cease to delight me. I am already in love with most species found upon the surface, but then you introduce me to a whole new world of incredible never-before-seen fauna?! Animals that have grown in completely unique biomes, adapting to the life underground and sometimes even surviving fellow brethren who have long gone extinct on the surface. It is a wonderful experience, and exactly why I was so thrilled to have a chance to visit the Underworld! There is so much to learn and see! I feel like I could write ten books out of all the stuff I witnessed down there! (Please don't - Eucella)

One of the creatures I want to talk about in this entry is the Wixelgolex, an intimidating species covered in plates and spikes! Any warrior or knight would be envious of such equipment! Colorful overlapping plates that ward off tooth and claw! Massive spines and tendrils bursting with nasty spikes! Beneath all that, we struggle to properly categorize what the Wixelgolex actually is. The current theory is that they may be related to mollusks, but there are certainly many details that still need to be straightened out before it can all fit into place. Regardless, the Wixelgolex shambles about the Underworld on four pairs of boneless legs, while four long spiky tendrils ensure everything else stays far away.

When it comes to eating, this heavily armored beast chooses to dine on.....fungi and lichens. Perhaps not the most impressive diet for what looks like a living siege weapon, but that be the menu for an Underworld herbivore! Or I guess I should say fungivore! The species uses their cluster of oral tendrils to grab and pull food bits into their mouth, while their long spiked tendrils spear or scrape fungi that are not in biting range. Wixelgolex move at a slow and methodical pace, sluggishly grazing through the caverns. They don't needlessly expend energy on rapid movements and such, as their armor and weaponry means they have little to run from and little to fear.

Surprise, surprise, all of these scales and spines are used for defense against predators. Good luck getting an attack past that sheer wall of armor! And that's if you even get that close! And also if you even attack the right end! The Wixelgolex's anatomy is shaped in a way that it is hard to tell which is the head and which is the rear! You have no idea if you are attacking the proper weak point! And woe be to you if you guess wrong! While their bodies move quite slow, their tendrils can snap into action with lightning speed. When hostiles approach, they will shiver their bodies, causing their scales to vibrate and clatter. This is their warning, before they start swinging. Ignore this, and you will be shredded by their spiny tendrils, which skewer, slice and maim with each strike. If you are not a large hefty beast clad in chitin like many creatures down here, a single whip can be lethal. It is why my demon guides always kept a restraining hand or arm near me when I requested to see a live Wixelgolex. They were so sure that my excitement would cause me to get too close and inevitably pummeled! I mean, sure, I was elated, but I am not stupid! I would never put myself in a scenario like that just because I was excited to see a critter! (Yes, you have - Eucella)

I should point out the massive back spines that no doubt have people curious. While the armor and whips seem fair defense against the many predators of the Underworld, the jutting spikes appear to be comically oversized. What would it need those for? Well, there can be attacks from above, as some carnivores roam the cavern ceilings and may drop down in ambush. However, I believe these back spikes are similar to the Halugyth's situation, where these are defenses for a beast long gone. Indeed, I am talking about the Malicrus, the Underworld's extinct superpredator that once haunted the tunnels. A beast whose size and ferocity would totally call for such potent spikes, but sadly those days are long gone. The monster they once feared has vanished, and now these overkill defenses serve as one of the few reminders of its existence. The sight of them for me is beautiful, but a little sad.

For the demons and shades of the Underworld, the Wixelgolex is a walking armory. It was said that in times before they mastered forging weapons and armor of stone and steel, beasts like the Wixelgolex was how they suited up for battle! Slay one of these, and you got armor and weapons aplenty! However, you got to kill it first, and that is no easy task! Though demons are strong and durable, it turns out shades are better suited for toppling one of these armored titans. No attack can penetrate from the sides or above, so they instead strike from below! A shade will crawl upon the floor, staying low and in the shadows. Their aim is to slither beneath the beast, where the armor is almost non-existent, and there they can strike a killing blow. Once the creature is slain, its scales and spines are harvested and turned into equipment. With metal armor and blades more in fashion than this organic stuff, it isn't used as much in war and serious battle. However, they can be seen in what one may call "battle casual" when you are looking for a fight or hunt, but don't want to lug around the heavy armor. For those stalking food or just on a leisurely stroll, light plates like this suit the situation far better.

And if you are a non-demon, it is also one of the few weapons and armor you can actually wield! Demon forged equipment is oppressively dense and heavy, and I certainly embarrassed myself a few times trying to even lift it! I tried a single gauntlet on once and couldn't even lift my hand! It took both arms to raise it up, but when I eased up my grip, it slipped out and nearly pulled my whole body to the floor with it! But chitinous equipment is far lighter and more my style, and my demon friends found it fitting to gift me some! I did get some nice plated armor from various Underworld species, but the surprising gift was a sword made of a Wixelgolex spine! Well, it was a sword for them, but more like a greatsword for me sizewise. Holding that while being decked out in their gear certainly made me feel like a true warrior! But that would only last til I actually tried to spar with any of my demon guides. I think I would get only one swing in before they twisted me up like a gnarled oak with their bare hands.

But I at least still got the sword! I haven't really used it for fighting, because I don't really do that. Not the kind to suit up and march into battle. I keep it more so as a memento of my trip. I know it may seem a bit gaudy or aggressive looking on the wall of my home, but many folk think it looks cool! I know Eucella liked it! When I first brought it back, she wanted to see me wield it and swing it about. She acted like she was enjoying it for the comical look of a little dryad like me holding a huge blade, but with the way she stared a few times I think she was really- (AND I THINK WE CAN STOP THE ENTRY THERE - Eucella)

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian

--------------------------------------

"Wixelgolex"

Posting a fellow that had been drawn a long time ago, but I wound up finding the initial design a case of where I flip-flopped between two concepts and wound up taking the worst of both worlds. So it sat in the "redo" section for a good long while, before I finally got around to landing on something better!

[aroaceleovaldez]

hello i believe you asked to be reminded about petalpressed? that sounds very interesting do explain

Hello yes! okay so rundown of Petalpressed:

In general, Petalpressed is an AU template I created that focuses on flower symbolism. It's like a combo hanahaki and soulmate tattoos au, except only taking the best parts of both. So everybody has a "living" tattoo somewhere on their body of a plant (or plant-adjacent, it's very broad - so fungi, lichens, algae, etc also count). The plant, in some way, represents or symbolizes the individual, usually via flower language, though it's totally a personalized thing so you can get as funky with it as you want. It can be absolutely anywhere on their body (face/head, back, legs, etc), take up a completely random amount of space (tip of finger vs entire torso, etc), and it will change based on the state of the individual.

Okay rest including PJO-ification under the cut cause this got long:

For example, when the person is a baby their tattoo will appear as just a seed or bulb or whatever is applicable for that plant. The plant will also probably be semi-ambiguous at that point or change plant types as babies don't really have a ton of defining traits. By the time they start settling into being an individual they'll get a more clear plant and it will most likely stay that for the rest of their lives, unless they experience a major shift in their identity that would cause it to change. It also is unlikely to change locations on the body unless for the same reason. The plant will also reflect the person's physical or emotional state, such as wilting if they're very sick or upset, blooming if they're extremely happy, etc etc. Some people may also have generalized versus specific tattoos, such as general "roses" rather than "roses of a specific color" in which case their tattoo may change colors to match mood/plant language associated with that specific color of the plant/or just at random, depending on person.

The soulmate/hanahaki thing comes in when the person develops romantic feelings or enters a mutual romantic relationship (specific because i'm aroace so I like including normalization of not having a partner, even QPP - there's still leeway there though with how individuals categorize "romantic" and obviously it's a template so there's freedom to mess with it). If they have a crush they may start coughing up the plant or parts of the plant associated with that person, though it doesn't cause them any physical harm. Does the coughing-up-petals thing go away once the relationship is reciprocated or is it just a thing that Happens When You're In Love Sometimes At Random? Who knows. You decide. If they enter a mutual romantic relationship with someone, their partner's (or partners') plants or a part of their plants will appear beside their own, and will change depending on the state of the relationship or partner's physicality or emotions. If their relationship is going well, the plant may bloom, if it's going poorly it may wilt, etc, and same if the partner(s) are upset/sick/etc. If the relationship breaks off or is no longer reciprocated the secondary plant will disappear, and if it left a particularly strong impact on the individual, residual parts of the partner/partners' plant(s) may be left behind, such as leaves, seeds, or petals. It depends on the person/relationship if those remnants will ever go away or how long it may take.

"Plant compatibility" is totally a horoscope-type thing in this universe alongside stereotypes of types of plants, and that's where the "soulmate" concept comes in. It is up to discretion if it is actual soulmates or just coincidental, but in-universe there is an idea of "If you share an exact plant with somebody, you are soulmates." Again, re: horoscope thing, here it could totally just be a coincidental thing based on "If you share a plant that is meant to symbolize you, chances are you have similar personalities and so will get along." There may be people with the total opposite perspective - "Don't date someone with the same plant" because maybe having similar personalities means you'll totally clash. Those concepts probably co-exist in practicality. Lots of variety. Also totally up to customization if the plants have to be local to where the person's from or be from anywhere or how much you want to stretch the definition of "plant" or etc etc. Lots of fiddling options.

I do have a sideblog for it as a more generalized template - @petal-pressed. Since it's a template, it's meant to be applicable to any fandom and totally free to use, and I occasionally post prompts on that blog. And again, the template intentionally lots of room for fiddling and freedom.

Anyways the PJOification of all of this:

"What ships are this au" Whatever's funniest/most dramatic in the moment. Go wild. Make your own variations or whatever.

Everybody's plants: (subject to change)

Percy & Annabeth - Bluebells (They match) - Annabeth's on arm where she got stabbed, Percy on small of back.

Grover - False goat's beard, placement undecided

Piper - Anemone (plant not animal), placement undecided

Jason - Forget-me-nots, right forearm

Leo - Hydrangea, placement undecided

Hazel - Clover, possibly forearm

Frank - Undecided but Snapdragons maybe, possibly forearm

Reyna - Jonquil, possibly forearm

Nico - Dandelions, wrist

Will - Sunflowers, side of torso/back

Luke - Originally Lilacs on face, changes to Rhododendron and spreads to shoulder/armpit.

Thalia - Eastern White Pine, placement undecided

Calypso - Undecided but Hibiscus or Zinnia maybe, placement undecided

I have some other notes for other characters but theyre all very noncommittal

I made a lot of random moodboards for this au but since they were just for personal use I don't have the credits for the images and so will not post those. If people are interested I might take requests to make new ones though. They're quite fun for me to make.

And random doodles - The first one is an extremely old one that was just me fiddling with random designs + cameo Solangelo to show off how the plant tattoos might look

And then some more recent ones:

I usually do aro/ace Leo for these aus, so here's him pretending to cough up plants as if he had a crush ^

and some silly Jasico ^

Some other misc fun notes I had for random things:

"Is this canon-verse au or non-canon-verse?" you may be asking. The answer is. Depends. You decide. Again this is not a fully fledged singular au it's just me rotating a template in my brain and it happened to be formed around PJO initially.

Because Percy and Annabeth both have bluebells as their flower, when Percy disappears and loses his memory, both he and Annabeth can't tell if they have only their own flowers or the flowers of two people and it totally freaks them out.

Also because they share flowers, when Nico has his crush on Percy and is thus coughing up bluebells, people presume he has a crush on Annabeth because those are her flowers too. He's not having a great time.

One variant of the thoughts my friends and I brainstormed for Jason was that he and Reyna were dating before he disappeared, and when he lost his memory it also made Reyna's flowers disappear from his tattoo completely. It took longer for Jason's flowers to fade from Reyna's tattoo and she just got to watch Jason's flowers change depending on his state wherever he was until they disappeared too.

Nymphs are obviously pretty one-for-one with their plant. If they even have tattoos is up to you. Either way this does mean Lavinia is coughing up poison oak though so she's having a bit of a rough time. She thinks it's totally worth it though. The coughed-up plants don't really hurt you as bad as the actual plant might, if at all, so she's fine in general.

I had other thoughts too but i'm forgetting.

uhh anyways yeah i think that's about it. woo flower au.

[theerrorofmylife]

Witch Queen Ch. 4

Thorin x Witch!Reader

It took me hours to find the sword types for this stupid chapter, and even longer when I spent a literal week reading about Ecthelion and the fall of Gondolin when I didn’t even need or use any of the information.

I GOT A DOG!! That’s kinda why I haven’t been as active, training and caring for her takes a lot of time, especially when she’s so young. I’ve also been sick for the past several weeks. I’m sick with the flu one week then I catch a shitty chest cold the next, it’s hellish.

I drank a ghost energy drink so I could stay awake and focus at work. Instead, I made this 2-3,000 words LONGER THAN WHEN I STARTED. Hehe whoops, I cut it off so that it wasn't longer than 5,000.... it would have been like... 7,000 if I hadn't.

Warnings: General LOTR/Hobbit danger, chase scene, non-important character death, reader can't run (just like me), Thorin and reader are so soft and in love its disgusting, kissing, smooches, these two get just a tad handsy, cursing, Thorin being rude to Elrond because he can be, elvish translated in italics directly after its said (unless translated by character). If there's any I missed, let me know.

“For you.” Turning to my right, I saw Thorin holding a sword out to me, the hilt glittering silver in the firelight of the ark troll cave. I recognized the thin scrolling designs and the soft, thin wrap of leather around the handle. It was of Elvish make, forged before my time, during the first age. I noticed another, very similar to it, in his other hand.

“It is beautiful, seronil, thank you.” I carefully took the blade from him, examining the sharp edge for nicks as he bound his own to his belt. Along the fine edge were several small places that looked worn, put to good use in battle I’d hope. It was not mine to examine for long before it was taken out of my hands. Looking up, Thorin had taken it and began strapping it to my side. My ears went hot as his hands ghosted my sides and my eyes scattered across the cave, only to find that the others had all left, most likely for shovels to make that ‘long-term deposit’.

“Âzyungâl,” He tightened the belt around my hips, and I lifted my face. I hadn’t even realized I was looking anywhere else besides him.

“These were forged in Gondolin… by the High Elves, of the First Age,” Gandalf spoke up from behind us, and Thorin’s face dropped into a scowl. Something about Thorin wishing we would have just a few minutes more to ourselves only to have Gandalf of all people interrupt him made me laugh silently. “You could not wish for a finer blade.” He was holding his own broad sword, straight and narrow opposed to our matching curved single edge falcatas. Leaning forwards, I pressed my lips to his cheek quickly before brushing past him and making my way out of the cave, paying extra attention to the ground as the reality of what I had done sets in. I hadn’t done that yet… neither had he, not really, I didn’t think kissing my hands counted quite the same.

 I snapped out of my thoughts as I nearly tripped, stopped short and looked up to take account of the others. They were scattered here and there, some talking about the gold in the troll cave, others talking about the journey ahead. It seemed like the calm after the storm had settled around us, as if we were finally going to get back to the monotonous journey once again. I could never be so lucky.

“Something’s coming!” Ori ran down from the rock top he was looking over. My hand reached over to pull my sword from my side as Thorin ran over and placed himself in front of me, his own sword already raised. A tethered pack of rabbits raced over the hill, pulling a sleigh behind it.

“Thieves! Fire! Murder!” A mad man raved as he came to a screeching halt in front of us. He was of man, not as tall as Gandalf, but younger, with a large nose and lichen growing down the side of his face, as if he were part tree. His hat had strange flaps at the sides, and his brown-greying hair and beard was matted and wild. A crazed look sat in his wide eyes, and he was rumbling nonsense. Gandalf was the first to move, placing his sword back at his side with a sigh of relief.

“Radagast! Radagast the Brown!” Radagast? He was one of the other Wizards Gandalf mentioned weeks ago. Relief quickly shifted to suspicion as Gandalf approached this new stranger, “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something’s wrong. Something’s terribly wrong.” Radagast was out of breath, whispering bad omens and glancing about like he was scared of being watched.

“Yes?”

“Just give me a minute. Um…Oh! I had a thought and now I’ve lost it. It was…it was- was right there, on the tip of my tongue! Oh! It’s not a thought at all! It’s a silly old… stick insect.” A long green bug crawls out of his open mouth and I have to look away not to be sick at the thought. The two walk off, Gandalf separating Radagast from the prying eyes of the company. An unease settled over us as we lowered our weapons but not our guard. The two talked for some time, and some of the company had sat down, others conversing in small groups, while sat with Bilbo, talking about home.

He missed his home so much and he spoke of it so fondly of his house and his books and his peaceful days. He had many neighbors whose company he enjoyed, family who he dedicated his time to, and even the luxury of six meals a day. I’d like to think that, over the course of these past several weeks, I had found a friend in Bilbo. Much like a confidant, he seemed to be one of the few I could openly talk to about things without the topic of Thorin always coming up. For 13 dwarves who spent much of their lives with him, they sure do ask me about him a lot.

Howling in the distance set the party on edge. No one moved, some didn’t even breathe, all hoping the howling would pass.

“Was that a wolf?” Bilbo asked quietly beside me. I shook my head, knowing wolves would be better than what it actually probably was.

“Wolves? No… that was no wolf.” I whispered. Thorin came running down from the cliff’s edge, rocks sliding as he made a fast descend to the rest of the group.

“Warg Scouts! Which means an orc pack is not far behind.” Everyone began moving so fast, packing things and readying themselves. I stuffed my things into my pack, my mother’s book getting shoved in carelessly. Gandalf was yelling, something about telling someone something, I wasn’t really listening. I was brought out of my frenzied rush by Dwalin brushing past me.

“We have to get out of here.”

“We can’t! We have no ponies. They bolted.” Panic was setting in. In the near distance, the howling and barking got louder. Glancing around the group, I met Thorin’s eyes. He met mine as he looked around the group. He didn’t know what to do, how could he, this was the first time any of us heard about Wargs and Orcs being on our tail.

“I’ll draw them off.” Radagast spoke up, and Gandalf quickly tried to shut him down.

“These are Gundabad Wargs. They will outrun you!”

“These are Rhosgobel rabbits. I’d like to see them try.” I didn’t know what Rhosgobel rabbits were, but if it gave us a chance then I’ll take it.

As soon as Radagast’s sleigh cleared the tree line we made a run for it. All of us running low to the ground I don’t remember the last time I ran like this. My chest burned, the air cold on my throat, cheeks flushing. We moved from rock cluster to bolder, dodging the Wargs’ line of sight and praying the Radagast kept them busy enough for us to make it to the next rock cluster. Running up and down hill was killing me. My mind raced with unhelpful thoughts; ‘what if we didn’t all make it?’ ‘What if I didn’t make it?’ ‘Can Wargs be quiet enough to surprise us and kill us off one by one?’ Like I said, very unhelpful. Gandalf was leading us northeast, and something about it seemed familiar. I didn’t have time to ponder it though, because the farther we got from our starting point, the closer Radagast and the Warg pack got.

We were all waiting behind a single large rock cluster when claws scraping against stone and hungry growling slowly crept over the hill to our backs. We pressed ourselves to the stone, clinging to the hope that maybe the Warg and its rider would not see us. Little chips of stone fell on my shoulders as loud snorts made the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on point. I think I was shaking, just a little, and my eyes focused on the expanse of yellowing grass, staggered pines, and tall, sharp stones. A hand unfocused my eyes as it came to hover above my collar bone. I followed the wrist, then the forearm, then the bicep, then the strong jawline, to the grey-blue eyes more focused on telling Kili to shoot the damn thing. The second his arrow flew we were made. He didn’t kill the scout, instead it took a second arrow to trip the Warg, and it tumbled off the hill in front of us. The scout got to its feet and ran at us, but Dwalin drove his axe into its side while Nori stabbed it repeatedly. It made so much noise, the sounds of the chase beyond had gone quiet. I shouldered Thorin out from in front of me, stretching my arm out to see the Warg hound clearly as I imagined holding the Warg’s skull in my hand, just above its spine. I pulled at the imaginary feeling until I just nearly felt it tangible and twisted my wrist harshly. The Warg’s neck snapped abruptly, and we all froze as the hills around us fell deathly silent. A horn, yelling in Orcish, and the howling started again, coming for us.

It wasn’t long before we were cornered, surrounded. We were all separated, in little groups of two or three, staggering and breathless. Looking over Nori’s shoulder, I caught sight of the boys and Thorin, a ways out to our left. Kili was shooting them one by one, but it did little to damage them. If he happened to land a successful shot, another Warg replaced it fast. My vision was blurring as I tried to keep track of everything. I couldn’t tell whether we were missing someone or if that was just the dizzying turn of my eyes.

“Where’s Gandalf?” Wait, what, where was Gandalf? He’s taller than everyone, he shouldn’t be hard to miss, so where-

“This way, you fools!” He appeared from behind a rock and the confusion mixed with the fear and the relief and made me sick. All this running was making me dizzy. I wasn’t built for running, I’m 5” with the physique of a relaxed walker… not a runner. One by one dwarves fell into the hidden tunnel, falling on top of one another, elbows, knees, and backpacks clashing down the steep fall. I pulled my arms up to shield my head as I rolled down the slope. My back hit the sharp ground, then my arms, then my back again.

Standing from the gravel littered ground, I began brushing myself off while narrowly avoiding elbows as the Dwarves did the same in the close proximity of the tunnel entrance.

“Kili! Run!” Thorin’s voice echoed down into the cave. The boys, Fili and Kili, were still out there. Fili came sliding first, and I grabbed his arms, pulling him out of the way as Kili followed shortly after. Watching the cave entrance, the longer it took for Thorin to join us, the longer panic took me over. Rocks and pebbles rained down on us as he came skidding to a halt. I breathed, filling my lungs fully for the first time since meeting Radagast. A horn sounded from somewhere nearby, and large hands pushed me back behind the party as a body fell after Thorin. An orc, unmoving, with an arrow sticking out of its back. Thorin pulled the arrow, examining it before throwing it in disgust. “Elves.”

The fear and sudden relief mixing in my chest were starting to make me sick. Looking over, I saw Thorin already looking at me, head tilted slightly as if to ask a question. I smiled and let my chest sink into a sigh as I nodded. I was ok. We were all ok.

“I cannot see where the pathway leads. Do we follow it or not?” Dwalin interrupted our silent conversation.

“We follow it, of course!” There was shoving, and the party was slowly forming a line to walk down the path.

“I think that would be wise.” I heard Gandalf mutter and realized that this was part of his plan. He led us here, knowing we would find this place, and he knows where it leads. Thorin realized the same thing.

“Where are you leading us...?” He didn’t get a response, only a strange look before Gandalf walked off to keep the others on track. The others passed me, each nodding towards me, like a gesture of acknowledgement or respect. It was weird but I moved past it. I went to follow, but a hand pressed against my back and on instinct I relaxed back into the warmth. Thorin wrapped his hand from my back around to my side and pulled my back against his chest, pressing a chaste kiss to my left shoulder. “Are you alright, My Lady?”

I smiled again, turning to meet his eyes. “Yes, My King, simply not built for running like that.” He chuckled low nodding.

“You and me both.” He kissed my shoulder again, slowly this time, moving from my shoulder up my neck until he was pressing slow kisses on my pulse point, under my jaw. We really should catch up with the others. His hands held me tighter, holding me fast against his chest. No matter how warm he was against me, he gave me chill bumps along my arms and down my back, my neck slowly leaning to the side as if to open up for him. He littered my neck with his kiss as his hand slowly lowered from my side to my hip bone, grabbing, as if desperate to go lower.

“Thorin?” Dwalin calls from far along the pathway. My whole-body tenses and Thorin lets out a silent laugh. I’m glad he finds getting caught so amusing.

“I’m following, Dwalin. Let me go at my own pace.” His hands moved to my waist to rub circles into my back with his thumbs.

“Aye. And is the Witch moving at your pace as well?” My face flushed red and Thorin kept laughing. This bastard-

“She is.” He called after Dwalin and sighed into my shoulder. “Let’s go, My Lady. I fear I’ve kept you for too long.” We walked along the stone pathway, the rocks towering above us to create a ravine that let the sunlight dance down on top of us. I walked behind Thorin, fingers locked with his, and we trailed behind the others at a distance so that we could talk.

“What are we going to when we get to the end of this? Gandalf knows where we’re going, and I feel like I do to- I just can’t place it.” Thorin nodded.

“Wherever we end up, we stay close together, and we do not let our guard down. I don’t care if it’s a friendly place we’re headed to. If anyone catches wind of our true intentions, to enter the mountain and reclaim it, they will try to stop us.” I hummed in agreement. Since leaving Bag End, I had found it hard to disagree with his rough, secretive outlook on this quest. Clearly things were not as they seemed when it came to the mountain.

“What if it’s the elves? Gandalf had been asking about seeing them before the trolls, is it unreasonable to think he would lure us to them?” Thorin visibly sulked at the thought but shook his head.

“No, that’s most likely exactly what he’s doing. Whatever they want, they will not have.”

“And if they want to help us?” He shook his head again.

“They won’t, and you know it. We must be careful Amrâlimê.” I nodded but suddenly had a thought that had never occurred to me before.

“What does that mean?” He stopped, turning confused.

“What does what mean?”

“Amrâlimê. What is that word? You’ve said other singular words like it too, but I don’t recognize them. And the other A- one and the I- one! I do not know these and yet-”

“What are you talking about?!” He interrupted me and my eyes widened in annoyance. He wasn’t answering me, and I felt like he was doing that on purpose.

"There was one that Kili called me, Irak-something! Thorin, please!” He smiled and shook his head, that rare smile like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Irak’Amad, My Lady, is Aunt.” It took me a second to process but when I realized I smiled so wide my eyes crinkled. Fili and Kili have been calling me Aunt and I didn’t even know.

“And the others?” He looked down at my lips before meeting my eyes, his hands coming to sit on my hips again.

“Sanâzyung means perfect love,” he leaned in, pulling my chest against his. The way he spoke his native tongue, deep and rumbling in his chest, it made my head hazy. “and Âzyungâl means lover,” His head tilted down, lips a breath away from mine, so close I could feel him speaking against mine. “and Amrâlimê… means my love.” He gently pressed his lips to mine and suddenly the very thought of not kissing Thorin felt detrimental to my health. We had never kissed like this before; it had always been on the hands or shoulders. We were always with people, or in danger, never alone with no one to interrupt. It was slow, and I gently wrapped my hands around the back of his neck, threading my fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. He sighed through his nose, and we would have stayed there like that for hours had we not heard the others. Gasps of surprise and Dwalin calling Thorin’s name, sounding mildly panicked, broke us apart once again and this time it was I who sighed in agitation.

“We will never be alone, will we.” He gave a wry smile, pressing his lips to mine again, quickly this time. I didn’t want this to end, who knows when we’d get another chance to be so close. But the mission pressed on, and the road was long before the end of our journey.

 We caught up with the others and I was stunned at what I saw. Tall, spiraling, elegant towers, graceful waterfalls under delicate bridges stretching across the great expanse of the mountain’s edge. Great halls with high arches and curving stone glittered in the afternoon light. The great Elven estate was built in the mouth of the valley, looking out over the river as it extends east.

“The Valley of Imladris. In the common tongue, it’s known by another name.” Gandalf spoke over our awe, rounding the ledge as we all looked on.

“Rivendell.” A whisper came from my left and I looked over to see Bilbo, eyes wide.

“Here lies the last homely house, east of the sea.” I remember coming here, once, a long time ago with Thranduil. I was incredibly young, and I don’t remember the details, but I remember the feeling. This is home, without it every having been home. Thorin moved past me, anger masked by narrowed eyes and squared shoulders.

“This was your plan all along, to seek refuge with our enemy.” ‘Enemy’ was such a harsh word and yet I couldn’t really find fault with his point of view. I disagree, I believe Lord Elrond will help us more than hinder us, but in Thorin’s mind it wasn’t just Thranduil that abandoned his people that day. To Thorin, it was every Elf, every person who aligns themselves with the Elves or calls the Elves friend was liable to Thorin’s distaste.

Gandalf sneered at him, scrunching his nose as he snapped at Thorin, “You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield. The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself.”

“You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us.” The king tilts his head, wryly calling the ancient wizard’s choices into question. Gandalf had none of it, acutely aware of what Lord Elrond would have to say.

“Of course, they will. But we have questions that need to be answered,” He walked through the party, making his way to the stone step path that led down to the first bridge. “If we are to be successful this will need to be handled with tact, and respect, and no small degree of charm, which is why you will leave the talking to me.” I rolled my eyes. Thorin went first and I followed second, taking his hand to step down as the steps became steeper and more detailed. We walked shoulder to shoulder in pairs along the narrow bridges until we came to two tall Elven statues standing guard in front of a large circular courtyard. We filed into the courtyard, slowly regrouping and breaking off to talk separately in smaller groups. I stayed near Thorin, my hand resting against his shoulder as he and Dwalin discuss escape routes. From the steps above, a young Elf passes by two guards and almost don’t recognize him.

“Mithrandir.” Lindir was the right hand of Lord Elrond and had been for some time now. I had known him when he was younger, and to think that he had risen so far was surprising. He was always so… carefree as a young Elf. The two stepped closer, speaking Quenya in hushed tones. Thorin turned his head to Dwalin and I.

“Stay sharp, and you stay behind me.” I snapped my head towards him.

“I know the people here. Lord Elrond is a kind man, he will help us I know it, please trust me.” He met my eyes with skepticism, but I stared him down, knowing I was right. Suddenly a horn sounded behind us, and the clattering of dozens of horse hoofs spooked the company.

“Close ranks!” I was pulled back into a crowd of dwarven elbows as they close in around each other. The hunting party circles us until they have is hidden by rings of Elven warriors. A man I had met only a few times in my life dismounts from the head of the hunting party and approaches Gandalf happily.

“Gandalf!” He smiled wide and it felt like I was in the presence of peace and tranquility. Like he polluted the air with a calm demeanor and made everyone feel safe. Everyone except the dwarves. Gandalf bowed and began speaking with him in Quenya, too fast for me to easily translate. I slipped my hand into Thorin’s, pressed so close to each other that no one noticed. Until I was addressed.

“(Name), Niethir iin Eryn Galen, Thranduilwen!” (name), Niethir of the Greenwood, daughter of Thranduil! Looking up, I met his smile and reciprocated a relived one of my own.

“Hér Elrond!” I bowed my head and slowly eased my way out of the group. Thorin squeezed my hand, and I stopped short of leaving from directly in front of him. He held onto me, and I held onto him. Elrond saw this but made no note of it.

“Quenyalda aryaië?” Your Quenya is improving? My cheeks flushed as I remembered the promise I made to him when I was much younger. I told him I would learn every language I could, and that I’d be able to speak to him in perfect Quenya one day. At the time, I wanted to impress both him and Thranduil.

“Paranya, au lenca.” I am learning, if only slowly.

“Naylë arya malda nyanya,” You are better than most. I smiled widely and nodded in thanks. “Si casar, carltë lenda asillo?” These dwarves, do they travel with you? I looked to Thorin quickly before looking back to Elrond.

“Lá, málonya.” Yes, my friends. He nodded and grinned. Looking past me, he focused on someone else behind me and I felt Thorin’s hand tighten in mine.

“Welcome, Thorin, son of Thrain.” Thorin came to stand beside me as he was addressed.

“I do not believe we have met.” I almost sensed haughty arrogance from Thorin, like he was waiting to make some snide comment.

“You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled Under the Mountain.”

“Indeed? He made no mention of you.” Ah. There it is. I rolled my eyes and met Elrond’s once again. The right corner of his lip quirked upwards so fast and so little that I almost missed it. Almost.

“Si gonnhirrim arldë alatulyaië imi Rivendell. Silómë merenlmë, málonlda arldë fúmë hí.” I sighed and smiled brightly, nodding happily in thanks. He turned and began walking back up the stairs but was stopped when Gloin spoke up in rage.

“What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?” He pushed his way to the front. I jostled as the others moved to make room for him. Gandalf turned to us, obviously tired of the Dwarves’ antics.

“No, Master Gloin, he's offering you food.” The Dwarves froze and suddenly turned in to whisper tightly between each other. Thorin and I leaned in, and my lips just barely brushed his cheek.

“His exact words were that you are welcomed in Rivendell, and that we may feast and sleep here tonight, but Gandalf was never good at translating.” I spoke low and soft, so that he was the only one to hear me. He grinned and turned slightly, his eyes crinkling at the edges. His lips were so close to mine, but the others had already started moving towards the stairs and there wasn’t time. He pressed our foreheads together, the side of his nose against mine, eyes closed. It lasted only a second or two, but it became my favorite thing. We were led up the stairs farther into the estate, past large columns and gorgeous waterfalls, other Elves passing us. They nodded towards me when they recognized me, and the Dwarves started to take notice. Thorin leaned into my side, the little braid that hung by his ear knocking into my shoulder.

“They know you here?” I nodded, still scanning the area as we crossed another bridge with no railings.

“I came here once a really long time ago, but it’s more likely they know me because I’m a witch, one of the last, remember?” There was a pause before he nodded, lips closed tight as if something suddenly bothered him. I saw this, but I couldn’t figure out what it could have been. Thorin was always stoic these days, always looking ahead for the danger, always thinking of what-ifs. Moments like this I remembered just how different he is now compared to when we first met. The carefree, smiling young man who led me down backstreets and alleyways got smothered by time and grief and hurt. “Thorin,” I bumped his shoulder with mine lightly, “What are you thinking?”

He wouldn’t meet my eyes, looking off in the distance, before looking down at the stone walkway. “You are the last of your kind… that never truly struck me until now. To be the last of your kind, alone in the world, without anyone who truly understands… I’m sorry.” I was shocked. I guess that made sense, though I never really thought of it like that. Yes, I was most likely, almost definitely, the last Witch in Middle Earth, but it didn’t make me as sad as it probably should have.

“Don’t be. As much as it sounds horrible, I don’t feel bad being the last.” His head snapped towards me, eyes wide and worried.

“Why-”

“Come, you are to feast with Lord Elrond. Then, you will be escorted to the bath houses. Lady Niethir, you are welcomed to the separate house for privacy.” I nodded in thanks before lowering my head to speak to Thorin quietly again.

“I’ll tell you later, Ara Nín. Let’s at least have tonight before we step back into the world.” He nodded reluctantly and took my hand in his, kissing the back before pulling me with him into the dining room with the rest of the company. 

@mrsdurin ,@capricorn-anon, @emmapotato88 , @dontaskmehowdontaskmewhy , @eilin-brillewin​ @hpthalia126 , @undecided-about-everything-ever , @dark-chxos, @artemis-the-ace, @floatingintheshire

if you want to be tagged, leave a comment <3

If tags aren't working, I'm so sorry :(

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #268

I did a whole lot of nothing today. And it was good.

Well actually, no, that's not entirely true. I did make a tea…

...And I did take an awesome shower. That was pretty cool. Wrapped my hair up all nice in a towel turban and everything. And I did a load of wash, too.

...And I took this photo of a cool spiderweb in my "backyard area":

...And I also broke the reindeer moss out of a necklace that was given to me a long time ago by someone who was dear to me. Still is dear to me, but... last I knew, he still has things he's gotta work on. Namely, communication skills, and... controlling his anger when the people around him can't guess what he's thinking.

I tried taking off the metal ends of it, hoping that the hollow glass tube had an open end, but... it didn't. So I wrapped it in duct tape and applied pressure with a pair of wire cutters, just until the glass cracked:

I pulled out the reindeer moss inside. As far as I know, it's still alive; supposedly, it was a self-contained terrarium, able to be the way it is because reindeer moss grows remarkably slowly, I guess.

...It's called reindeer moss, but it's actually a lichen.

...Anyway, I found myself suddenly... overwhelmingly sad about the fact that this organism that's normally supposed to grow in huge sprawling boreal forests was... confined to a tiny glass tube.

...I guess it made me think of you, all sealed away underground, sustained only by the crystallized mako you're suspended in. It felt... cruel and unusual. So I fixed it:

...This kind of reindeer moss has been spotted in my state. So once I'm comfortable with how it has established itself in this container, I will find a suitable spot out in the wild to stick it, so that it can live the life it's supposed to.

...It doesn't fucking belong in a tiny glass tube.

I thought I was going to practice more Dead Cells on 5 Boss Cells today, but... I ended up getting caught up in leisure writing. I don't mind it, for sure. Sometimes I find clarity and relief when I do it, and today wasn't any different.

...I guess sometimes I just wish it would lead to something a bit more tangible. Though I know that it never will. And that's okay, too; I'll take what I can get. But... still.

I don't have a whole lot for you today. My mind was anywhere but the present. It was in the future, worrying about you. It was in the future, trying to figure out what more I can try to do to help you. It was in the future, wondering whether it could possibly be enough, even if I successfully did all the things I wanted to try to do. It was in the future, wondering about how things in my world are going to turn out. It was in the future, wondering about what I'm gonna do when my time in this body is up.

...Where does your mind go, when you struggle to stay in the present? I wonder. And what do you do to bring yourself back to the present when it happens? I try to make sure my bodily needs are tended so that my "involuntary time-travels to hypothetical futures" doesn't deplete me too terribly much, but... even that can only do so much.

I think after yesterday's worrying followed by yesterday's victories, I probably needed today for rest. This time, I tried not to feel overly guilty about it, and I think I was mostly successful.

When's the last time you rested, Sephiroth? And what does rest look like for you? What do you like to do? How do you recharge? How do you care for yourself? I wonder...

Tomorrow, I go up in the sky with J in his new airplane. Today, he was out all morning practicing takeoffs and landings on his own. I'm pretty excited! I'll try to snag some good pictures!

For now, though, I think I'll end today's letter here before I end up rambling on ya, haha!

I love you. Please stay safe out there, won't you? You wouldn't wanna miss tomorrow's pictures, I'm sure...

I'll write again soon.

Your friend, Lumine

[doorrobloxstuff]

Can. can you. can you.. seek x figure headcannons if you. if you may…..

Yes tumblr sexyman Seek helps me get those followers and also I have brain worms about this pair.

Seek x Figure Headcanons.

POWER 👏 COUPLE 👏

I have multiple backstories for em because there’s various flavors of seek and figure but they all love eachother so dearly.

Seek literally calls it “Dearest figure” “Figure beloved”

Figure calls Seek either “Goopy” or “squishy”

“Seeky..” ,,,

One of Figure’s favorite things about Seek is how quiet it’s body is. No screeching or yelling.. just dripping and oozing..

Sometimes it uses Seek as a pillow..allowing its head and ear-holes to sink in so it can deprive itself of all the sounds..

That and its voice,,,,,cascading and resonating like ripples on water in it’s head.

One of Seek’s favorite things about Fig is It’s heartbeat. Seek loves to crawl up its chest and listen to it. The welcoming warmth of it’s ribs..

Figure has long arms and yes they are used for holding Seek in them and IN TURN Seek will use all them hands to give Figure a thousand pets from all angles.

Seek can literally give Figure a thousand kisses. Figure’s livin the dream.

Also Seek loves to coo over the bits of lichen that grows on Figure. Occasionally they grow small white flowers every once in awhile and it steals Seek’s heart away.

“Dearest, your blooming again.” “I am? :0”

Self care is figure sprinkling bits of bone dust on them so the flowers stay healthy.

OH BTW SEEK IS THE ONE WHO TAUGHT FIGURE HOW TO BREAK THE CHAINS FROM THE CRUCIFIX.

 Seek will act as Figure’s eyes sometimes. Especially when they hunt together. Gods forbid when they do because they are unstoppable side by side.

Seek is actually quite sensitive to touch, so no Figure does not chew/bite on Seek as a stim but rather it gives Figure a bone to chew while Seek talks about an interesting thing it found on an intruder.

Figure often takes advantage of the touch thing and occasionally trills into Seek to make nice vibrating little ripples that feel like a back rub.

Occasionally (Infact seek does this Y/N fics too..) parts of Seek will cling to figure’s arms and legs so it can be with it at all times.

Fun fact, Seek used to do the “climb into Figure’s mouth thing” until one day Fig’s gag reflex was triggered and it got vomited out.

…True love conquers all..?

Now Seek prefers to wrap itself around it’s arms, chest and torso/legs or cling itself between Fig’s ribs like cobweb.

Still, Figure enjoys Seek being on it’s body and Seek enjoys being with Fig. If they could they’d be sharing one body for eternity but unfortunately they need to go and e a t.

Figure loves to listen while Seek just chats about all sorts of things. Occasionally being infodumped on by Figure when it ends ups bringing up the exact thing Figure is currently hyperfixated on.

Seek loves to wear tuxedos/jackets. Make itself look fancy even though it’s partner can’t see. Figure still compliments it.

The two drink wine from the basement and read books together for dates or chill out in the courtyard.

I like to imagine that Figure occasionally “Sees” seek by touching its humanoid body an idea of what they are lookin at. Now imagine it touches its face one day and Seek puts a hand on figures hand or face it’s just-aaaa!

I like to think they have children!!! However Seek keeps them hidden in different closets/attics until they can hunt on their own.

Screech is their child and possibly snare + the new purpleish entity that El-goblino mentioned.

Screech got the C H O M P and those are just baby teeth, the real sharp teeth have yet to grow in. That or it just has flat teeth.

Snare had the sharp teeth at birth..it’s also got one of Seek’s eyes and Figure’s mossy bits. You don’t really see the eye that often..

The mystery entity got the pinkish parts from figure + The eyes from Seek.

Both of them adore the litter of trash rats they have created.

:) enjoy

[all-or-nothing-baby]

8 GET KNOW ME BETTER/CATCH UP WITH ME QUESTIONS

tagged by @greyhavenisback. thanks love! <3

.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: currently single and honestly mostly very content with that, i just. miss kissing. bc kissing is nice. so, kind mutuals, kiss-o-gram for cassidy when? lol.

FAVOURITE COLOUR: petrol/gasoline tones. or the less ostentatious answer of purples and blues and greens.

SONG STUCK IN MY HEAD: justin timberlake's cry me a river bc me and my fourteen-year-old put it on about an hour ago bc he was trying to argue that bringing sexy back is a better song (it's not and i will take zero criticism). i'm not usually a fan of JT's music—he's better at acting imo—but that tune is just *chef's kiss* and a proper classic early 2000s BOP!

LAST SONG I LISTENED TO: just watched some of the brilliant twin peaks: a limited event series (2017) as i'm currently nearing the end of a rewatch of the entire run (og s1+s2, the FWWM film, and The Return). it was ep2 and the song that's performed as the credits roll is shadow by chromatics, so. that.

THREE FAVOURITE FOODS: i could never! plus most of my faves i can't eat anymore because of my evil MCAS. but three faves today? 1. gruyère cheese on sourdough toast with lashings of worcestershire sauce (which i ate for lunch earlier today) 2. fry's turkish delight which i used to think tasted like perfume when i was a nipper but love now. i had one the other day for the first time in ages and i want MORE. 3. spicy phở, nom nom. although i now have to make my own bastardized version bc there are soooooo many vegetables i can no longer eat, grr. still good tho!

LAST THING I GOOGLED: 182 centimeters in inches bc my brain seems to live in the 1970s, pre-metrication, even tho i was born in 1980. i think its maybe bc it's what my folx used? and even tho i was taught metric in school it just never stuck, ha. anyway, the reason is i'm looking for a second-hand sofa bed on ebay and i live in a basement flat so correct dimensions are A Big Thing.

DREAM TRIP: anywhere not-warm with mountains and forests. maybe rural germany or romania? i just want to breathe in the mist and lay down in the damp earth until moss and lichen begin to grow over me tbh. think castle lecter in lithuania, where hannibal grew up... tbh, my chronic illnesses and now shitty mobility means i prolly won't actually get to go abroad ever again *sobs* BUT i believe one can and should always dream :)

ANYTHING YOU WANT RIGHT NOW: i'll take a body that works properly pls! i'm going for a meal and then to a peaky blinders ballet (!) tomorrow eve and instead of feeling pure excitement for it, i'm mostly anxious tbh which, bleugh. also, i'd like to hang out at home with my best mate bc i was too ill for us to catch up over christmastime, meaning i've not seen him in over a year as we live at opposite ends of the country :( but he's hopefully coming to stay with us at easter, so yay.

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tagging, play or nay: @shealynn88 @sharkfish @novemberhush @jmeelee @petrichoravellichor @rauko-is-a-free-elf @witchsickness @demonlandline @slytherkins @stevewhoreington @raisesomehale @halinski @eusuntgratie @wulfnerd @harrgrove @jimmypricegf @thisgirlsays22 @catboynecromancy @deklo @grey-sides @lovebillyhargrove @deedoop @suometar @ltleflrt @sailorsally @mjulmjul and anybody else who wants to have a pop pls just consider yourself tagged!

[gust-jar-simulator]

I have no idea if anyone is paying attention to my random unhinged WIP posts, but if I don’t talk about Penumbra I’ll implode. So.

I’ll probably end up completely overhauling this scene, so you guys can have a treat and see the experimental process in action.

_⛰️🧚🏻‍♀️🌸🧚🏻‍♀️⛰️_

None of them had ever signed up to keep a hostage in their camp, not really. The mission wasn’t built for it, their routines weren’t built for it- but Legend was gone, traded away in a faery game, and fair was fair was fair.

The shadow, Vio, had stopped being a shadow sometime around the second day. It’d been hard to get a straight answer out of them, but they’d told Time something about “wanting to be approachable” with that sly, inscrutable smile, white-blond hair dripping past bright blue eyes. The moss up his neck and cheek was gone, tunic brightening to a vivid, uncanny purple that brought out the dark lines of his veins.

He looked… Hylian. Too Hylian. Between Hyrule and Time pooling their limited knowledge, they’d all assumed that shadows came from them somehow, designed to mimic their target Link for one reason or another. Their nemesis for this trip looked like a teenage Time, but none of them recognized the boy tied to a tree at the edge of camp. Maybe he was just a creation of Dark’s.

His name was Vio, and he had a bit too much life in him for a puppet. Couplets, quips, layers within layers, riddles within rhymes. They’d resorted to letting Time and Wild lead the interrogation mostly because they were the only ones who could make sense of most of it.

By the second week, despite regular food and drink and even keeping him out of the sun, something was going incredibly wrong with him. He wilted in his binds more like a dead flower than a person, and whatever glamor he was using had faded in nasty grey blotches, hair hanging limp and hiding his face, the reedy struggle of his breath.

Wild scrambled over with a bowl, ignoring the way the others pretended they weren’t actively staring, and clicked his tongue the way he’d greet a Korok, twisted over to try to see his face. “Morning…?”

The reedy, vaguely raspy breath stopped, then started again, and Vio gave his best mysterious hum. “Good morning. Lovely weather today.”

Was that a barbed comment about the sun? Even he had a hard time telling, sometimes. Still, he untied one of the shadow’s hands to press a bowl into it, and felt a chill when their hand just dropped instead of holding on. Vio took a long, slow moment, and then remembered the bowl existed, accepting it and resting it on their knee with the kind of ease that implied it was a choice, thank you, and his arms weren’t at all shaking.

“Is it too bright?” Wild sat back on his heels, cocked his head like a wolf. Grey patches drifted over the back of Vio’s hand like smoke, the veins at the base of his throat stark against pallid skin. “We’ve got blankets.”

“No.” Vio picked up the bowl, slowly, seemed to reconsider, and put it back down. “I appreciate it, but no.” A pause, lingering, rolling a thought behind his teeth for a long moment. “If… it’s not too much trouble, for the next few days, I might need to drink soup from a flask. My body isn’t quite. Cooperating.”

Wild fell from his crouch onto his ass, blinked, and immediately swiveled towards Hyrule across the camp. The healer was already zipping over, allegiances be damned, to crouch by their captive and brush his hair out of his face. “Look at me please.”

Vio actually cringed. “That’s really-“

“Look at me.”

Vio looked at him.

Sucking in a breath, Wild did his best to stay out of Hyrule’s light while also getting a good look at the shadow’s eyes, which were a mottled patchwork of blue and purple, pupils blown out and discolored patches of lichen crawling up one cheek. Following it down, there were bits of leaf and vine tangling around his legs, a tree root starting to curl over one ankle. They’d only been there a day.

“It…. looks like magic exhaustion,” Hyrule said uncertainly, shadow’s chin propped up in one hand, “but you feel full up. You don’t have any injuries, no sunburns, nothing.”

Vio shrugged a shoulder, letting himself be manhandled. “I am full up, there’s nothing for you to fix. Wild is a very accomplished cook.”

The compliment would have landed better if Vio didn’t still look like death warmed over. The young man’s lips thinned a little, and he tried to lean away. “Stop touching me, please. I’ll be a bit ill for a few days, but nothing terrible should happen.”

“I don’t like should,” Hyrule said firmly, but he let go and backed up a little to give Vio some space. “Ill with what? Are you allergic to something?”

The laughter took them all by surprise, low and warm and entirely unusual, chuckles rocking Vio’s shoulders like a coughing fit. It took him a minute to drag himself together, grinning with teeth that couldn’t decide if they were fangs or not. “Allergic?” He seemed delighted by the concept. “I haven’t eaten in a couple thousand years, imagine being allergic to something. I wonder if sunlight counts… are we still allergic to cats? Is a millennia enough time to develop lactose intolerance? Dark is such a bastard for not letting me-“ He cut himself off, dragging his mind back from miles away, and tried to play off the sudden manic fit. “I will be fine, thank you. It’s only withdrawals.”

[leidensygdom]

For the good part of your art:

I love how you make color block on drawing and how pleasant you make such color to see. Not overly blended, you can clearly see where the color change and interact with other colors around it. As someone who can't look at bright colors for long you present them well enough that it doesn't irritate my eyes.

For thing that can be improved of:

I find that your designs look to have the same motifs or silhouettes to some parts of their body. Examples Borrasca and the Polycule have the motif of branches and they don't seem to be related (if they are ignore what im saying for this point.) I see that both have the same kinda leaves as well. I think it would benefit from have attached leaves or other stuff found on branches to make them more distinctive such as moss, lichen, flowers, burls, galls, ect. You could also vary the color range that these branches can grow into, currently usually blue with a light blue or standard blue. Perhaps they should end in more purple and turquoise or even bluish green would at least stay in the range of blue. I've also seen crystal growing in the same areas as other character could mix this around to other places.

For silhouette, while you are very good at doing this, I mainly looked at the hair. Specifically this drawing https://www.tumblr.com/leidensygdom/742494865737285632/and-once-the-fight-is-over-we-will-get-to-hug?source=share If you just color block the hair of Yxala and Onirist they would look the same, or at least very similar. Both have ponytail tied back, some hair in front of the ear, some hair behind the ear.

On a lighter note:

I think some of the most distinctive designs would be the clothing exchange cloths you made. They look well around the character and fit their body quite well.

I also think that Argyros is one of the most distinct design you have made. It really doesn't compare with all the other design you made, outside of a very game version of Onirist.

If there is a specific lore reason for any or all of this you can ignore it. Its just my two cents.

Oh the branch thing is definitely intentional! Relent and Borrasca are siblings, and I wanted them to have a similar aesthetic. The curse of having a lot of characters who are related I guess. Tephra also picked up these branches since she's Relent's kid lmao

For the other drawing, Yxala actually did actively try to change her hairstyle to match Uri's. She started wearing braids because of them, she gifted them the X-shaped hair piece she was using previously, that stuff. She'd be doing that with Relent too if Relé had hair and not smoke lmao

But I get you! A lot of times having related characters who do this stuff makes it harder to practise outside of it. I have to do a bunch of NPC tokens for the coming campaign, and I wanna use it to get a much wider scope of looks and such. They're gonna be busts, so I better get ready to trying very different motifs and hairstyles!

and Yeah argy is a very different kind of character. I have like so many doodles of her. she's a shapely beast. she's a creecher. i need to have more creechers

[firelightfoxes]

for a while i considered getting Lichen’s AKC CH to be, like, a pipe dream. i mean, she’s from great parents but idk, i’ve never had a show dog and i also didn’t want to put too much emphasis on her looking a certain way, because i didn’t want to feel disappointed if she turned out differently.

but man, after seeing her give it her all last weekend i’m really excited to try and finish her. i know it’s kind of silly for a dog to give it “their all” in a conformation ring where all they do is trot around, but for a sensitive gal who dislikes being touched by strangers, i think she has to do a lot of mental work to stay composed throughout it. like, i don’t ever think she’s gonna have a breakdown or anything, but similar to a human with a social battery, i can definitely tell that she gets drained after prolonged exposure to that environment. and to add, she passes the fuck OUT when we get home - she seems more tired after a show than she does after agility, for reference.

i think this weekend, she finally understood what i was asking of her, and did her best to allow it. like, hey, i need you to just let this stranger touch you and then it’ll be over and you’ll get treats and praise. and weirdly enough walking her through it and reassuring her beforehand seemed to help? (probably just picking up on my vibes being reassuring i guess?) i dunno, it just seemed like she steeled herself to tolerate it for me because i asked her, and i appreciate her so much. we have a really great connection and i’m glad she trusts me enough to get through little moments that aren’t super pleasant for her.

and to clarify, it’s not that she dislikes showing. she’s super alert and likes watching all the people and dogs move around, loves sniffing around the venue, and of course she gets to hang with me the whole time and get tons of treats. it’s mainly just the judge touching her, or staying in that environment for a prolonged amount of time, that starts to get to her (and i just mean in the sense that she doesn’t settle as well).

but yeah, i tried not to get too attached to the idea of showing while she was growing up, because i didn’t know how she’d turn out appearance-wise and i also didn’t know if she’d even like showing. but we both definitely enjoy it enough at least to get her CH, i think. for reference we’re at 8 points out of 15 - so pretty close! she’s just so great and i am so incredibly proud of her.

[mirrorstone]

Today’s tea is yorkshire gold. It’s a black tea blend that I’m really fond of because it’s got a great flavor, rich and robust, and it’s very budget friendly. (It was on sale at ~$5 for a box of 40.) This brand actually comes in two types, red and gold, with the gold being the more expensive one. I really should do a side by side comparison of the flavors someday though, because drinking it by itself I can tell it’s this brand, but I can’t tell the difference between the normal and the pricier one haha.

I also like that the teabags are a bit bigger than standard, and you get ~40% more tea per teabag than, say, bigelow or celestial seasonings. I like a strong cup of tea, and as you may know, letting tea steep longer increases the bitterness by letting more tannins into the tea, so the best way to get a stronger cup is to steep for the normal amount of time and add more tea. Bigger teabags give me that without having to add extra, which I especially appreciate.

I’m drinking it with whole milk and wintermelon sugar, two more rich, bold flavors, so it’s a pretty typical (milk and sugar is milk and sugar) but comforting cup with a little extra oomph. The weather is starting to get warmer, which curtails my hot tea drinking habits, so I have to enjoy this while the mornings are still cool.

The mug is one of my favorites (I know, I say that about all of them). It’s a handmade mug that I bought from a local craft fair in Raleigh, and it’s hard to tell from the picture, but it’s big. This mug holds about twice as much as a normal sized mug, so it’s perfect to enable my tea addiction. It’s also nice and thick, so it holds the heat better and my tea stays hot longer. Sea green and gray is one of my favorite color combinations, since gray is my favorite color overall. I love the way the pattern looks like moss or lichen growing over weathered rock.

Now the kicker; when I bought it, I just bought it because it was $5 and I wanted a big mug. At the time, I thought it was the ugliest mug I’d ever seen, and evidently the potter did as well because it was priced to move. This mug’s gotten lots of use over the years. It came with me to college, it traveled with me on moves to three different states, and I’ve been drinking out of it for over a decade, all while fondly thinking of it as my ugly bargain mug, that was so nice and big even if it was tacky. What a surprise it was when I looked at my “ugly” mug one day and realized “This mug is actually beautiful; it has such a nice shape, it has my favorite colors, and the pattern is evocative of things I love.” Over time my tastes changed, even my favorite color, and without changing at all, this mug became something perfectly suited to me. I wonder what I’ll come to love ten more years down the road?

[wanderingrain]

Blogging through Till the World Ends Episode 3

Every time they show me a wide shot of this apartment I can't help but think about TharnType. I'm sorry.

Ew what are the hets doing here? Also where is this gang holed up that they're still here?

Lol not them arguing over who gets to kill Art.

No it's 4am and the way I just screeched!! The fake blood! Golf just killed a man with a lichen knife. Why are you dropping the knife? Did Art just kill bubblegum girl? They've both gone feral!

At least Golf seems to be traumatized after killing someone now cause I thought for a minute we were gonna breeze right past that.

Major props to Art's actor for just straight up sobbing like that.

Once again Golf showing his obsessive tendencies. He's known this boy for three days and is unhealthily attached. I would normally wave it off as "just one of those tv show things" but they said he only knew his girlfriend for a week and was overpossessive of her too. Seems like a pattern to me.

I hope you're gonna turn more lights on before you try and stitch him up.

Nope we're doing this in the semi-dark.

Art's face I can't

Babes you can barely handle him touching the wound with a cotton ball and you're asking him to sew it up? You know you're gonna need to hold still for that right? Maybe we should break out the drinking alcohol.

Wow i really don't need these sound effects thanks.

Oh good it's over.

Wait shower? After you just got stitches? Wait.

Wow this bed is huge.

Golf already looks so in love. I love how Art is clutching the blanket to his chest lol

ugh I'm so soft for hand holding. I love how quietly they're talking. I love how the camera doesn't want to focus on them lol

Babes this is the second time he's called you cute actually.

The way Art looks so scandalized from being called cute!

Oh so it's more than just a 2 person pattern.

I love that Art is just casually playing with Golf's fingers as they talk. We need more casual touches like this where the touch isn't the focal point of the scene.

Not the instrumental Christmas music again! Why Thailand why?

The way Art's hand is fully resting over Golf's now while he's trying to comfort him. The way they didn't make a big deal about it and they're just allowed to touch each other casually.

Both of these boys are good actors. The emotion, the body language. Good job boys.

I'm not sure I believe Art would really leave the apartment again after what just happened but I'm willing to suspend my disbelief.

🤣🤣🤣 Not Bubblegum gang girl still laying on the ground! Guess she's alive then. Didn't expect to be getting her pov.

Shut up Art! Do you want to alert Bubblegum to your presence? If you get taken hostage by the same girl twice in 24 hours I swear...

Ohhh is he about to remember? Nope nevermind.

Oh good Bubblegum's got his wallet.

Breakfast on the- why would you leave the apartment? How do you know the roof is safe? Ya'll literally almost died less than 12 hours ago in this apartment complex and now you want to go up to the roof?! Are you inane?

WOAH OK that's a lot

Anybody else feel weird about bubblegum touching him when he's still all sweaty from sex?

Is he not a new recruit after all? Then why were they trying to pressure him into killing someone in the beginning?

Honestly this gang doesn't scare me so I don't really feel much about them having Golf's picture. Lol.

If Golf and Art would just stay locked up in the apartment the gang would probably never find them unless they went door to door kicking in doors. So I'm sure some sort of shenanigans will ensue to make sure our main characters are dumb enough to expose themselves. I'm betting that Art remembers what happened and tries to run away for the third time and gets caught by bubblegum and she uses him to lure Golf out.

I still think one of the gang members is probably Art's brother because that's usually how these things work. Or maybe Golf's brother has something to do with the gang. Either way I'm sure they'll be saved by some kind of brotherly intervention.

On to episode 4

[theunkn0wn-0]

The Gift of Immortality DRAGON BALL STORY: Insert Reader

GENDER-NEUTRAL READER ✕ DRAGON BALL CHARACTERS

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅... 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

╰➤⌈ 𝑰𝑵𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵… ⌋ ╰➤ 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙏𝙐𝙎: 𝙸𝙽𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙿𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙴 ⟬ 8 / ??? 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 ⟭ ╰┈➤ 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙍𝙀: Fanfiction, Adventure, Action, Romance, Slow Burn, Drama ╰┈┈➤ This is a FIRST PERSON POV story for the reader, Y/N, M/C. ╰┈┈➤ Instead of (Y/N), I use [First Name] for your name. ╰┈┈➤ Enjoy the story, have fun.

WARNINGS: Mentions of BLOOD and DEATH/DYING

Prologue - BIRTH | 1

❝Every time I die, this is the vision that greets my eyes, and every time I think, “How lovely that sunlight which I forsook so many centuries ago…”❞

•◉◓☆◓◉•

Sorrow.

Witness countless lives of your loved ones dying within your hands, yet you can't do anything about it.

Your friends that you have made over years and years, and you witness them die from old age, diseases, mishaps, and being slain.

And your lovers…

Pain.

Your comrades die in battle with you, fighting for your people, fighting to save innocents, fighting for justice despite that.

You sacrificed your heart that endures the pain that builds up each day and time. To witness the horrors and the pain of being slaughtered over and over again.

You sacrificed your mind to endure the insanity driven by everything from the pain.

Fear.

You fear losing everything and getting too close to people, and you have to stay your distance because you can't handle the heartache of losing a loved one.

You fear they would betray you, being used, being mistreated, and captured again. Fearing your life of being hunted down like an animal for something you couldn't control.

You fear that you will lose yourself once you go insane and never come back.

[Story/plot made by theunk0wn-0]

Confusion.

You are lost and confused, not knowing why you were like this. Why are you given such faith?

Does God or life hate you? You had no answers.

You are confused about why you can't die, move on, age, or get sick, and why you can't rest or have peace. You can't live a normal life.

Why would the world treat you like a thing instead of a person? 

Frustration.

You are frustrated you cannot have and live a normal life, to grow old and die in peace. You can't take a break, you can't rest, you have to keep fighting.

You are frustrated when you find the right person in life; they die in your hands, in front of you. You have to keep hiding, staying in the shadows, yet each day is more difficult to disappear.

Anger.

You are in anger about how the world treats you, how people treat you, how you can't move on, you can't die, you can't have a family. You want to let out the rage, but you keep it contained.

Angry about how you were born like this without knowing the answers, without a single clue what your purpose was to live.

Was it to live to suffer? Was it to save people? Was it to wander the Earth? Was it to protect the world? Perhaps all of the above.

There is no one out there to understand you but yourself.

You are truly alone in this world.

The world was a tapestry of raw, untamed beauty, painted with the earthy hues of rugged landscapes and untamed wilderness. Trees, giants of a bygone era, stretched their gnarled limbs towards the heavens, their bark rough to the touch and adorned with mosses and lichens. The air held an earthy scent, a heady mixture of damp soil and the fragrance of wild flora that danced upon the breeze.

The sound of babbling streams wove through the air, their crystal-clear waters whispering tales of ages past as they wound their way around mossy rocks and pebbles, a symphony of nature's melodies that harmonized with the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of unseen critters.

As the sun descended behind the horizon, a canvas of fiery hues painted the sky, gradually giving way to the unfolding blanket of night. Above, the celestial tapestry revealed itself, adorned with countless stars that glittered like precious gems. Amid this serene backdrop, the crackling of a distant fire and the rhythmic pounding of stone against stone reverberated through the tranquil stillness of the night.

A human woman sat upon the grassy ground, silhouetted by the flickering flames of the fire. Her figure, adorned with streaks of soil and splotches of blood, was shrouded in tattered remnants of clothing, yet she seemed unperturbed by her disheveled appearance.

Engrossed in her task, she diligently worked on fashioning a weapon. Each strike of the rock against the spike stone resonated in the night, the clinks and clanks harmonizing as she honed her spear, preparing it for the next day's hunt.

However, amidst this focused work, the rustling of nearby bushes abruptly disrupted the tranquility. The crackling fire seemed to grow louder in the tense silence. Her keen [Eye Color] eyes narrowed, scanning the darkness beyond the bushes as they continued to sway and rustle; her hand instinctively tightened around her weapon, poised to confront whatever creature lurked in the shadows.

"[Mother's Name], seize your weapon. Don't strike your devotee, my beloved."

The commanding yet familiar voice shattered the tension, carrying a trace of bitterness that resonated through the night air. Hearing this voice, your mother eased her grip on the spear, lowering it slowly as the figure emerged from the shadows, stepping into the warm embrace of the fire's glow. 

Illuminated by the dancing flames, he bore the appearance of a man, with dark wavy brown hair cascading above and skin as pure and pale as freshly fallen snow.

Your mother had always found this man intriguing, not only for his unique appearance but for his eyes. In a world where eyes typically bore shades of black, brown, green, or blue, his crimson-red eyes were a rarity, captivating and mysterious in their intensity.

"Ares, you're back," your mother murmured, a mix of calmness and admiration lacing her words, each syllable a tender whisper that carried across the clearing. Her voice was gentle yet resonant.

As Ares, her beloved, drew closer, the shimmer of his golden collar armbands caught the fire's light, illuminating his attire—flowing black pants cinched at the waist by a glistening golden sash.

"Apologies, I took longer than expected," replied Ares, his crimson eyes softening as he closed the distance, his gaze locking onto hers. Settling beside her, he felt the dampness of the grass tickle his bare feet.

"I've searched for you since dawn. Where have you been?" Your mother's tone, initially calm, contradicted her stern words. Her eyes betrayed her worry, flickering with a mix of emotions—care, concern, and a touch of relief upon seeing him safe.

"I had urgent matters to discuss with Whis. It couldn't wait," Ares explained. His voice carried a hint of urgency mingled with a touch of regret; his eyes flickered with fear for a brief moment before he relaxed.

"I understand. But next time, please tell me. I scoured the woods, fearing the worst," her words carried a motherly concern that she couldn't conceal. Ares let out a hearty laugh, rich, and echoed through the woods, carrying a sense of amusement that reverberated in the night air. His amusement twinkled in his crimson eyes as he gazed into her [Eye Color] orbs.

"Do you truly think these woods pose a threat to me? Fear not, I am far more powerful," Ares replied, a confident smirk gracing his lips, his eyes holding a mischievous spark.

"Regardless of your strength, I'll protect you until the end of days," your mother declared, her voice carrying an unyielding resolve and a depth of emotion and affection towards him. Ares' blunt retort carried a hint of admiration, "Another reason why I fell in love with you, woman."

Her soft and tender smile reflected the depth of her affection for this enigmatic man. Her warm chuckle mingled with the gentle rustling of leaves in the canopy above, a symphony of nature.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

4 YEARS LATER | AGE: 4

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

The haunting cries echoed through the dense woods, disrupting the serene harmony of nature. Startled birds took flight, their wings flapping urgently as they fled their nests. My mother's face, once radiant, was now streaked with tears. Her eyes, usually warm and comforting, were now swollen and red, her tears traced their path down her warm, reddened cheeks.

I felt an overwhelming sadness clutching at my heart, unable to understand her pain. She enveloped me in her arms, their warmth a comforting shield against the chill that the cries had sent through the air. She struggled to speak through choked sobs, her voice quivering with each uttered word.

"I'm sorry, darling. I don’t want to cry in front of you. But I have you..."

Her words trailed off, swallowed by sobs, as her embrace tightened around me. I reached out with my small hands, wanting to help her, and in that gesture, a glimmer of hope flickered in her eyes. Her trembling hand found mine, the texture of her rough, warm palm a reassuring touch as she gently caressed it.

"I still have you… [First Name]," she whispered, her voice barely audible amidst her hiccups and sobs. Her gaze, filled with a mixture of hope and melancholy, locked with mine. Her hand, which cradled mine, continued to caress it gently.

"Don't be like your father or me. Be strong yet kind," she pleaded between hiccups, her [Eye Color] eyes reflecting a bittersweet longing. Her touch moved from my hand to my hair, her fingers tenderly stroking my locks as her voice softened into a fragile murmur.

"Don't let emotions cloud your judgment. Be clever yet compassionate, [First Name]." Her sobs mingled with the natural symphony of the forest—the rustling leaves, the distant calls of birds.

"I wish your father could witness your growth… I wish fate hadn't snatched him away," she lamented, her voice cracking with pain as I stumbled over my words, trying to comprehend while my confusion surfaced.

"Father?"

"Yes, your father," she confirmed gently, her touch lingering on my hair, offering solace as she grieved. Confused and overwhelmed, I remained nestled in her embrace, allowing her to hold and comfort me, though I couldn't grasp the situation.

At that moment, I was just a child.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

7 YEARS LATER | AGE: 11

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

"For this is how you hunt," my mother's firm voice guided me as I stood by her side, eyes fixed on the fallen animal at our feet. The deer lay still, my mother's makeshift spear protruding from its side, blood seeping slowly from the deep wound. Her hands carefully gripped the spear, extracting it from the deer's body, crimson blood seeping from the deep wound.

"Use everything, down to its bones and skin. A hunter uses everything; this is how we respect the dead."

Her touch upon the deer's neck spoke volumes, a quiet acknowledgment of its life slipping away.

"We share goals, the animals and us. Survival is our common thread. As much as I cherish them, we must feed ourselves. We respect their sacrifice by ensuring it's swift and painless."

With a swift motion, she ended the deer's suffering, a snap that echoed through the woods, the fading light in its eyes; its once rhythmic breaths gave way to silence as death claimed it. "Come, help me carry this," she beckoned, and my heart surged with eagerness and hunger.

We had secured food for the day, and my eyes flickered with a mix of joy and anticipation, hungry not only for the meal but for the warmth of my mother's cooking. Together, we dragged the deer, its blood painting a trail on the grass, marking our path back to our den.

Our steps echoed as we made our way to our den, the cave's cool embrace enveloping us. The trickling sound of water inside greeted us as the sunlight, filtered through the cave's mouth, illuminated our path. The scent of damp earth mingled with the tang of blood, an earthy yet strong aroma that lingered in the air.

The weight of the dead animal strained against my grasp, letting out grunts that echoed within the cavern. Without my mother's help, carrying this load would have been difficult. We ventured deeper into the cave, finally setting our prized bounty upon the cold, stony ground.

"[First Name], could you gather fish from the lake? I'll prepare the food," my mother spoke, her words a gentle directive. She handed me her makeshift spear, a tool crafted for the hunt. As our eyes met, a sense of pride sparked within her gaze, her lips curving into a soft smile. With a nod, I accepted the spear, returning her smile with one of my own.

Snatching up the makeshift basket woven from leaves and twigs, I dashed out of our den, my bare feet navigating the terrain with ease. As my bare feet pounded against the ground, the crunch of leaves and the sensation of soft grass, soil, and scattered pebbles underfoot greeted my senses. 

I felt the softness of the grass and soil between my toes, punctuated by the occasional touch of the gravel. Though accustomed to walking barefoot, I had grown numb to the pain. The melody of the flowing river and the rush of the nearby waterfall reached my ears, their soothing sounds interweaving with the rustling of leaves overhead.

Venturing deeper into the woods, the sounds intensified, guiding my journey toward the river. With each step, my pace slowed, my breaths steadying. I approached the bright, glistening river, sunlight dancing upon its surface. With a tightening grip on my mother's spear, I maneuvered onto the scattered boulders, inching closer to the deeper section of the river.

Carefully, I positioned myself, scanning the crystal-clear water for signs of movement. A flicker of movement caught my eye, and in a swift motion, I plunged the spear into the water. The sound of splashing and flopping resonated, signaling I had caught it. As I withdrew the spear, a cacophony of splashes and thrashes echoed as the fish wriggled at the end of my spear. 

With nimble fingers, I plucked the catch from the spear, adding it to the woven basket beside me. Again and again, I pierced the water, each successful strike the basket steadily filling with the day's sustenance; I couldn't resist the temptation for one more catch.

My senses attuned to the river's rhythm, searching for more prey amidst the gentle currents. Then, a stroke of luck—or fate. My gaze locked onto a salmon, which they were infrequent in this river. However, it was just out of reach of my spear.

Pulsating with excitement and determination, I took a risk, inching closer to the edge of the boulder that provided me safety from the deeper currents below.

So close, but just out of reach.

With a hopeful breath, I extended the spear, but in my eagerness, my hand slipped from the boulder's edge. Time seemed to slow as panic coursed through my veins, my heart pounding with fear and realization of my position. The world slowed to a crawl as I teetered on the edge, unable to grasp anything for support.

My fingers lost their grip, and a gasp escaped my lips, swiftly followed by a resounding splash as I descended into the river's icy embrace. The chill water engulfed me, slapping against my skin like a harsh awakening. Panic surged as I flailed, unable to swim against the relentless pull of the current. My lungs screamed for air, my limbs thrashing in the abyss of the river.

Each moment intensified the burning sensation in my chest, the relentless pressure of drowning bearing down on me. Desperation clawed at me, and despite my efforts to break the surface, I sank deeper into the dark abyss.

My vision blurred, the world darkening around me as the burning ache in my chest intensified. The suffocating weight of water surrounded me, and despair washed over me like the relentless tide.

Was this death? Am I... dying?

Darkness enveloped my senses, a numbing sensation spreading through my weakening body. I felt myself slipping away, renouncing the icy embrace of death.

Yet, an inexplicable light pierced the darkness, a flicker of hope amid the bleakness, and with a sudden surge of awareness, my eyes shot open, startled by the sudden influx of air into my lungs.

Confusion clouded my thoughts as I grappled with the shock of being alive, if only for a fleeting moment. Before I could comprehend the situation, the burning sensation returned, water flooding back into my lungs.

Frantic, I thrashed and struggled against the relentless tide, but it was futile. Each awakening brought a brief respite, a cruel tease before the cycle plunged me back into the drowning abyss. My lungs screamed for air, my vision blurred, and my body weakened as the cycle repeated mercilessly, trapping me in a loop of drowning, fading, and inexplicably returning to life.

Each gasp for air was met with the relentless invasion of water, intensifying the burning torment within me. This torment repeated itself, an agonizing cycle of drowning, brief resuscitation, and plunging back into the suffocating darkness.

Disarray intertwined with despair as I grappled with the inexplicable cycle of death and resurrection. How long had this torment lasted? I lost count of the times I resurfaced, only to be pulled back into the watery abyss.

With each resurgence, hope flickered briefly before being extinguished by the suffocating embrace of the sea. The fear of never escaping this torment gnawed at my soul, leaving me trapped in an endless loop of drowning, reviving, and drowning once more, a cycle that seemed to have no end.

My body, weakened by the relentless assaults of the sea, had succumbed to darkness countless times, but as light pierced the veil of my consciousness once more, I opened my eyes with a desperate gasp, taking in a precious lungful of air.

The burning sunlight assaulted my vision, accompanied by the symphony of splashes, the rushing river, and the distant roar of a nearby waterfall.

"Wake up! [First Name]! Please!"

The desperate plea reverberated in my ears as I fought against a fit of coughing; my chest heaved, wracked by a fit of coughs, each one a reminder of the recent ordeal. The memory of the ordeal left me trembling, a knot of anguish tightening in my throat, raw with the acrid taste of seawater.

Was that real?

I couldn't bring myself to believe it. The mere thought left me trembling, my hands quivering uncontrollably, as I grappled with the terrifying uncertainty of what I had experienced. I couldn't think of drinking water the same way ever again, haunted by the vivid recollections of the ordeal I had endured.

A warm, rough hand cupped my cheek, drawing my attention amidst the chaos of my thoughts. Familiar [Eye Color] eyes met mine - my mother's gaze, a mixture of dread and hope swirling within their depths.

"You're alive!"

Her voice, tinged with relief and disbelief, seeped into my consciousness, stirring emotions I struggled to comprehend; my body trembled, still shaken by the lingering chill of the water's embrace. Drenched and disoriented, I found solace in my mother's warm embrace, her attempt to soothe and comfort me amidst the storm raging within.

My heart raced against my ribcage, each breath felt heavier, a desperate attempt to grasp onto existence. The fear lingered, a shadow threatening to engulf me once more.

That moment had etched an indelible mark upon my soul, a traumatic encounter with what I later understood as my first brush with 'death.' I couldn't comprehend it then, couldn't fathom if what I experienced was normal or a haunting aberration.

In an era where knowledge was scarce, especially during the Stone Age, such puzzling occurrences were mysteries that eluded understanding.

Years later, I found my answer.

The day my mother passed in her sleep; I laid her to rest beneath the same tree where my father found his final slumber. Wildflowers adorned their graves, a silent tribute to lives well-lived, marking their passage into the afterlife. The weight of grief settled upon me like an unyielding burden.

In my eighties, I stood amidst the burial, grappling with the weight of their absence and the fleeting nature of my existence. Witnessing my mother's gradual decline had been a silent agony. Her once towering stature had diminished, her skin weathered and worn, her eyesight fading, and her strength waning until she could no longer join me in the hunt or even take a simple walk, leaving me to navigate the challenges of survival alone.

A pang of heartache pierced through me, tears welling up as the realization of my newfound solitude settled in. Questions plagued my thoughts—why hadn't I suffered the same fate? Why did I not succumb to the same aging, losing my sight or strength?

Was it even normal?

My mother had never questioned my perpetual youthfulness, nor had she explained what was natural or not. It left me to grapple with the uncertainty of my existence. As I grieved her loss, I carried on with the daily routine she had taught me—gathering food, honing tools, hunting, and preparing for the harshness of winter. Yet, amidst the familiarity of these tasks, an overwhelming sense of loneliness crept in, a void that grew deeper with each passing day, week, and year.

The confines of our territory felt increasingly suffocating. The same den that had sheltered my mother and me became a haunting reminder of my solitude. The temptation to explore beyond the boundaries gnawed at me, a desire to venture into the unknown, to seek the company of others like me. Fear tethered me to the familiar; the uncertainty of what lay beyond the horizon held me captive.

Would I ever return if I go?

The longing to discover the secrets of the world outside clashed with the fear of the unknown. The resolve to seek answers simmered within me, a determination to unravel the mysteries beyond my sheltered life.

The day arrived as I gathered provisions, my instincts honed from years of hunting; I stood by the riverbank, eyes fixated on the unexplored expanse that lay beyond.

Fresh air filled my lungs as I took a deep breath, my gaze tracing the currents and the uncharted land on the opposite bank. Stepping onto scattered boulders, my heart raced with each careful stride, cautious not to lose my footing. Finally, my bare feet touched the soft, damp grass on the other side.

The thrill of the unknown surged through me as I embarked on this solitary adventure, a journey seeking answers that would unknowingly lead me down paths of horrible events.

•◉◒☆◒◉•

Finished: December 28, 2023 Published: December 31, 2023

NEXT CHAPTER: 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 — 𝑺𝑨𝑳𝑽𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 | 2

LINK TO THE BOOK [WATTPAD]: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 — 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗 𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 If you're interested in stories like these, here is my 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[ketavinsky]

miss you dad miss you best friend from evangelical school miss your warm shoulder i leant on miss your long hair miss the shine of the sun over the braid and how it gilded each stray strand miss talking shit about chapel before class with you miss pulling holes in your stockings miss the idea that i loved you in some harmless christian way miss playing ponies with you on your carpet - well you playing ponies and me playing hot wheels but we made it work until ten years flew past and you started getting up at the blue hour, 4am or maybe even 4:30 or 5 if it was a weekend, to jog yourself into the ground. miss the idea i could have helped you run from home miss our plans to run together hope you haven't wasted away. miss you dad. miss waiting for you looking out the bay window that wasn't a bay window but kind of seemed like one with the magnolias sprawled over it until the neighbours cut the magnolias down and mum was never the same after that. miss when mum still felt like mum. miss the fantasy that dad would come and sneak me out of the window and take me very far away from her, mostly because it could have been real i think, if we'd stayed in new zealand a little longer. miss new zealand or the distant dream of it. miss eating caramel slices on the cobwebbed concrete picnic area in the backyard miss the stone frog furred with lichen miss the trampoline i launched my friends off miss reading about fairy rings in the grass with my cat. miss my cat i miss you baby i shouldnt have let mum decide who took care of you when we went away you didn't deserve to die like that. miss you tabby kitty. miss feeling safe even when you clawed that scar into my thigh. miss feeling the scar in my thigh. miss you neighbours kids rocketing off the trampoline miss you boy racers tearing up the street miss you little kids with the boomboxes taped to your bikes miss you catcallers miss you lancer evo lads skyline lads gc8 lads wannabe jdm lads roping stolen furniture to the backs of the cars. miss the older kids i tried to learn to box with. miss you my almost-brothers. miss when things were different before we grew up and i learnt so many of you became predators. miss sitting on your shoulders miss taking the piss out of the idea of starting a boy band together because you were way into kpop miss your stupid shithead jokes about why you couldnt be fucked to go to pride miss your fucked self hatred. miss stealing cigarettes. miss stealing gum. miss feeling like a real rough n tumble kid with a bunch of bad friends. miss feeling armoured. miss my faith that we could be kings together. miss you best friend i was in love with. hope you're out of that shitty one bedroom apartment that smells like old oil all the time hope you're eating more than week old fried chicken nowadays so sorry we aren't close anymore. miss you house party prince wish i'd done more to help you when they told me your nose was bleeding all the time because of all the coke you did miss you so much wish i'd held you. wish i'd agreed to run pills with you if it kept you in my life a little longer. miss you best friend hope you found someone to wash your hair with warm water hope you're sober hope you can choke down a meal without being high for it wish you'd told me about it wish i could have helped. miss you best boy baby brother. miss being miserable with you miss holding you miss lending you my overpriced hypebeast jackets miss buying you overpriced icecreams miss blowing my budget on you baby boy anything to make you eat. hope you're eating now. hope you're sleeping soundly hope the shaking stopped. so sorry i couldn't stop what he did to you so sorry he was my friend too so sorry i didn't find out in time so sorry so sorry. miss the certainty i could be a martyr for you. miss feeling like i could suffer forever so long as my friends were happy miss my friends miss suffering for them. miss you worst friend ever miss your brutal smile miss feeling you dissect me every time you looked at me miss thinking up new ways to try and kiss you in a way that you'd like.