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#maple-bloom.
geopsych · 1 year
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You may not like it but this is what peak Norway maple looks like. 🌳
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gerbits · 2 years
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emh-photos-art · 1 year
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aisling-saoirse · 7 months
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February 17th 2024 - St. Paul, North Carolina
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shining-gem34 · 1 year
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The Dragon Who Flies Among The Stars
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Name: Dan Heng- Imbibitor Lunae
Species: Vidyadhara
Affiliation: The Astral Express
Occupation: Guard/Archivist
Gender: Male
Height: Typically around 5’8” (~ 177 cm)
Age: Physically appears 18-23
Birthday: ????
Path: Destruction
Element: Imaginary
>Ship Status: Open to multiship
>To see Dan Heng (Regular), please click here.  >To see Dan Feng (Past-Self; HCQ Era), please click here. 
>Lore || Headcanons
“The true form of Dan Heng, a descendant of the Vidyadhara Luofu. He carries the burdens of his past life, the Sinner Dan Feng, and with it a part of his power is passed down to him. By accepting his lineage, Dan Heng can longer escape the ghosts of Dan Feng's past.”
Backstory
For years after his exile, Dan Heng shed his horns and scales. He cut his ears and hid his pointed ears, and the glow of his eyes became dull like muted green stones. Dan Heng changed his appearance completely in order to distance himself from his past and walk forward to his new future. The destructive power of his heritage is tightly locked away to the point it can be barely discerned. 
But Dan Heng cannot hide it forever.
While searching for his friends in the Xianzhou Luofu, Dan Heng was struck by Blade sword and it triggered his transformation. Unable to contain his powers, his human disguise was washed away by the pure waters and his true self was revealed. A Vidyadhara Luofu, the reincarnation of the criminal, High Elder Dan Feng.
Nowhere to run, Dan Heng accepted the majestic horns on the crown of his head as he accepted the fact he cannot avoid Dan Feng past anymore. 
[Please refer to the “Lore” for full details of his character story and in-game story]
Appearance
[Please refer to the above image for Dan Heng-Imbibitor Lunae appearance]
Personality
At first impression, Dan Heng comes off as a stoic young man who rarely loses his composure and remains level-headed. Sometimes, it will leave others to believe he is cold and indifferent. In truth, for the people who know Dan Heng, he is a kind soul with strong loyalty to his friends/family. He dislikes beating around the bush, preferring to speak bluntly and straightforwardly, but he is also careful with his word choice and tone. 
Even though Dan Heng can remain calm in the most perilous of situations, there are few things that can shake him to the core: Dan Feng's past and the meaning of his existence. 
Abilities
Dan Heng is a spell-user following the Path of Destruction. He channels the power of Imaginary, summoning forth powerful water dragons and spears to smite his enemies. 
Cloudhymn Magic: Due to his Vidyadhara heritage, Dan Heng can use Cloudhymn Magic. He can disguise his Vidyadhara features and appear as a regular humanoid. He can manipulate water to a certain degree and shapeshift it into dragons. He can create mirages of inanimate objects like lotus and spears. Even without transforming, Dan Heng can still use his magic.
Sealing Arts: He is capable of breaking seals using Cloudhymn Magic, but he cannot create or fix seals. 
Weather Manipulation: Dan Heng can command the rain and clouds. 
Levitation: It is implied Dan Heng can float/fly in the air.
Transformation: It is implied as High Elder, Dan Heng can transform into a dragon. That has yet to be seen.
Martial Arts: Dan Heng is proficient in Cloudlancer art, one of the many martial arts used in the Xianzhou. However, he is just as capable fighting bare-handed if needed. 
Combat Experience: Dan Heng has proven to be a strong fighter despite living most of his life in the Shackling Prison. Whether he is a gifted fighter, or, as some would believe, fighting with muscle memory, it has proven to be advantageous in dealing with life-or-death situations. 
Weapon: Dan Heng wields a magical orb/pearl acting as a catalyst for his powers.He still prefers Cloud Piercer, his spear. He doesn’t mind using other weapons if necessary, but he dislikes it to the point he rather fights bare-handed. 
Physical Stats: With a durable body and fighting experience, Dan Heng physical abilities are above a regular human. Also, he heals faster than a normal person. 
Longevity: The Vidyadhara are able to live up to a few centuries (around 700 years) before they reincarnate. They stop aging at a certain point, appearing eternally youthful for the rest of their lives until they are ready to return to the sea.
Notes
Regular Dan Heng and Dan Heng-IL will be used interchangeably, because he can switch forms freely. For a majority of the time, Dan Heng will appear as normal instead of Dan Heng-IL. He finds his true form to be a hassle for various reasons. 
The few times Dan Heng will change forms are: 
The situation is too dire that he cannot afford to hold back.
He is heavily injured and needs to transform to heal his wounds.
The situation requires that he needs to appear as Imbibitor Lunae (Example: IL Story Quest)
[Anything else will be added here]
Regular Dan Heng and Dan Heng-IL will always be called “Dan Heng”. Dan Feng will be called “Yinyue Jun/Imbibitor Lunae” for a majority of the time.
||Updated on 03/28/2023
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61below · 1 year
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The autistic joy of gardening, like: I get to make my rows. I get to take the things that don’t belong in my rows out of my rows and put them in a bucket and then yeet them into the Pile of Making Good Dirt, and then I get to plant things I want in my rows in rows. And repeat. For the whole summer, the best time of the year!
Like, sure there’s the occasional sensory fuckery, like when you accidentally touch a stinging nettle or raspberry plant or when an ant crawls across your ankle, but … My Rows 😍🤗✨
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melancholictrait · 2 years
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still learning to use chopsticks 
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apt3 · 2 years
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It’s been frigid here 🍂
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2014subuwuflorister · 6 months
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more pics of the garden from today! only planted about 7000 plants today. pictured above is one of our long strip beds with 2000 begonias laid out in a candy cane stripe pattern. also pleased with how my pots are starting to bloom! (that last one wasnt designed by me tho, just loved how it looks!!)
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raynaweber · 7 months
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Front Yard Brick Pavers Inspiration for a brick driveway in a mid-sized front yard with partial sun in the shabby-chic design.
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magickalways · 1 year
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Red Maple getting their bloom on #red #maple #redmaple #trees #blooms #naturephotography #naturalbeauty #naturelovers #simplethings #springtimevibes https://www.instagram.com/p/CqbfDPovZ5R/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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fyeahlsy · 2 years
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A large traditional stone landscaping is shown in the picture.
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bunny584 · 7 months
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OBSESSED: FUSHIGURO
A/N: OH. MY. GOD. Anon. I love you and hate you for this request. This was…hard. I told myself I wouldn’t publish it unless it was fucking perfect (you should see the scalpels I took to each goddamn sentence before this version).
SECOND: I will square up with Gege for writing the most enigmatic, LAYERED, complex, muddled character to exist. I wanted this to be Megumi. Through and through. His darkness, his light, his reservation, his crazy, all in one. And IDK. I think I did it? This one is purely to prove to myself that I can write for characters that are hard to write for (*cough* yuta im glaring at you *cough*)
THIRD: if you do read this (I get people feel things about aged up characters etc), I implore you to listen to this. Guys. I heard this at 0200 IN THE OR during a 6 hour case and the entire concept for this came to me. Meg is sophisticated and unruly, selfless and selfish, etc. So this has some NSFW but definitely probably more on the poetic, long ends of my works.
CW: Aged up characters (20+), college AU, fluffy/raunchy/dark romance-y because LOOK at him. He takes after Gojo AND Toji. Mature, 18+
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“You like it when I’m rough.”
Megumi’s melody rings crystal clear.
Low.
Precise.
An F-14 Tomcat fighter jet, flying dark. Below enemy radar.
The piano keys float beneath his tone. His long, slender, deft fingers effortlessly execute the sheet music before him. It’s his GPS system, a personal flight map.
Little Beethoven, his advanced music theory professor calls him.
Truth is, Megumi is a prolific pianist and vocalist. He can tame any note, any melody, any harmony faster than any of his Shikigami.
Speaking of…
Megumi pulls off the piano and tortured love song in an instant. Just as the grade 3 curse creeps through the open door.
The part between his right long and ring fingers is automatic. His left hand grips the web space between his right thumb and index finger.
“Demon dog.” Megumi summons.
Low. Precise. Decisive.
“Eat it, boy.”
A small, approving smile tugs on the corners of his lips. Low level curses are the nothing more than chew toys to his divine dogs. With a tiny wave of his fingers, his technique buzzes inward.
Megumi’s eyes float to the ancient analog clock on the wall.
13:50
10 more minutes until you’ll meet him for your date.
No. Not date.
Study. 10 more minutes until you’re meeting him to study.
Your thought blooms within him like wildfire. It sets his normally cool, porcelain skin ablaze.
Megumi whips his body around to face the piano. To exorcise the feeling. The keyboard has always been his outlet. His life blood. Playing, singing, musing in and out of written songs is his catharsis.
Words don’t come easy. They never have. But lyrics do.
And when he gets to ride lyrics with his voice, his runs..?
The words he can never find on his own are suddenly out there. In the atmosphere. Coating empty rooms in a mist of his thoughts, his feelings.
No certain promise that the person the words are destined for will ever catch them. Or ever walk through the room and be kissed by the remnants of his musical trail. But Megumi has said (sung, played) them. And that’s enough.
“Sorry if I come across a type of way.”
“I’ve been trying to get out of my way…”
His fingers dive into the keys. Angrily. Earnestly.
“I know it doesn’t seem like I care, but you know I care—“
“Wow Meg, you sound incredible.”
You bring him to an abrupt stop. Your voice is maple syrup trailing down Megumi’s neck, leaving goosebumps in its candied wake.
Pitch fucking perfect.
A soft, ethereal C, gliding down Heaven’s staircase. You infuse sunlight into his name, whichever way you choose to say it.
And it’s hell. It’s cruel. To have as keen hearing as he does. To listen to you sing his name and have nothing else follow.
“Fushiguro.” Megumi shoots up from his seat, slinging his backpack over one shoulder.
“What?”
“Fushiguro.” He repeats, eyes briefly meeting yours before settling above your head. He’s at least a head and shoulders taller.
“Nobody calls me Meg.”
You throw your head back. Feather light crescendo in your laughter. It’s pretty. Tantalizing in the way chandeliers twinkle when they capture a beam of light.
His eyes dart down to catch the feminine column of your neck. Curving into your delicate collar bones. How are your lines so seamless?
So cinematic. Like he’s watching a figure skater land a triple axel. Or a prima ballerina en pointe. It’s not fathomable.
Gorgeous.
You are gorgeous.
“I call you Meg.” You retort with a smile that liquifies all of his joints.
You double your walking speed to keep pace with Megumi’s long strides. Both of you exit the sound engineering building. Heading straight for the campus library a couple blocks away.
“Who were you—oh,” Megumi’s glacial hand along the small of your back steals your voice away.
Your eyes and feet follow his gentle push, shifting you to the other side of him.
“Walking on the wrong side.” He mutters, monotone. Matter-of-fact. Obviously.
He’s a gentleman. Of course he is going to walk on the traffic facing edge of the sidewalk.
Of course he didn’t feel the electric currents wire through his fingers to clench — suffocate — his heart.
No, he didn’t hear that punched out, falsetto gasp when his hand cradled your perfectly tapered waist.
Or notice how well you fit into his hand. How light you are under his touch that had none of his real strength behind it.
You’re made of alluring lines. Intoxicating sounds.
What would it take to coax a pretty melody out of your pouty lips?
His fingers?
They’re long. And smart. Cold. Remarkably patient. You’d like them.
He could make you love them.
Crave them. Need, whimper, whine, and cry out for them.
“So who was it?” You tether him to reality.
“Who was what?” Megumi counters, leading you to a private study room.
“The way you were singing earlier.”
Hairs along the back of his neck stand at attention. Blood runs Siberian cold. Megumi’s gaze on you is subzero.
“It had to be for someone.” You lower down into a seat in slow motion.
The sweetheart neckline of your sundress is mean. Your supple mounds tilt and ripple with every micro movement. Megumi has forgotten why he’s glaring at you.
“You sound too…pretty. It can’t be wasted on thin air.” You continue.
“She must be—“
“Let’s just get started, okay?” He sharply redirects the conversation.
And promptly shifts gear to low autopilot. He’ll speak when spoken to, answer questions intermittently. But his mind’s true coordinates are a galaxy away.
Megumi retreats to his shadow garden.
Watching you.
Drinking you in.
Savoring each detail on his tastebuds like dessert.
The pencil eraser leaves an indent on your bottom lip where you’ve been pressing too hard.
Megumi wants to roll your bottom lip under his teeth. Until it flushes rose and swells beneath his relentless pull.
His eyes fall to your bracelet, far too big for your dainty wrist.
He could hold both of your wrists in one hand above your head or behind your back for hours. Without breaking a sweat.
His other hand would take its time.
To stroke you. Pet you. Learn your sheet music. Then play your body like a harp until you’re a chorus of beautiful, soprano whimpers and moans. Begging and pleading so prettily, enticing him to give in.
But he won’t.
Not until you’re soft enough. A babbling, warm, ruined brook beneath his fingers.
Then he’ll take you, gorgeous.
Searing pain from his sharp swallow and nails digging into his thighs rip him down to the present.
Vision a little fuzzy. Head a revolving door of vulgar scenarios. A dull, demanding ache between his legs draws his eyes to his lap.
Fucking hell.
His jeans are uncomfortable. He’s stiff and needy. Not nearly enough strength in his pants to hold back his drunken arousal.
Not to the mention, the—
swarm of shadows growing at his feet?
Is his…innate domain materializing around him right now?
Megumi aggressively slices through the air at his hip level. Below the table, but you don’t miss his sudden stirring.
“Meg? You okay over—“
“Going to the bathroom.” He gruffs through a clenched jaw. Megumi places his forearm over his crotch before hurrying out of the room.
He can barely recognize the man in the mirror. Flushed to his ears. Volcanoes threatening eruption in his eyes. Api Biru. Pure, triple distilled, blue lava coursing through his veins.
Snap out of it, Fushiguro.
The splash of cold water does nothing for his internal heat. But his milky complexion returns to its effervescent state.
But then he turns a little too quickly to leave. And his painfully hard length drags along his fabric. It’s blinding.
A feeble moan tumbles out of his tight lips.
“Fuck.”
Megumi slams his eyes shut. He needs to readjust. But if he touches himself now, he might not be able to stop.
A slow, steadying breath fills his lungs.
“Just adjust, don’t…” His voice trails off. Icey fingers around his hot, angry base is enough to rip the carpet from beneath his feet.
“Oh, fuck.” Megumi mumbles through one quick pump up his shaft.
He shakes his head as if to tell himself enough. He rests his erection along his thigh before zipping up. Still painful, but tolerable.
A tornado obliterates any remaining resolve in Megumi’s mind on his walk back to you.
You are a dream.
Or a nightmare? A curse?
It doesn’t matter. He couldn’t care less.
Megumi would follow you. Deeper than the crypts of his 10 shadows. Into hell if it meant he could have you the way he wants you.
The way he craves you.
Because fuck the cost.
He’d pay anything.
You’re working on an elaborate concept diagram on the white board. On the tip of your toes. Lip curled under your teeth. And you are just irresistible.
So, he won’t resist.
“Meg! Took you a bit, you okay?”
Megumi is silent. Unblinking. Sauntering toward you.
“Megumi?”
You lower to the soles of your shoes. Neck craning to look at his face. Your eyes widen at his persistent silence. Rosy heat dusting your cheeks.
Pretty little doe, rooted in place by his wolfish glare.
Megumi takes the marker out of your hand and tosses it behind him in one swift motion.
“Hmm,” a tiny acknowledgment of his name. Just because it sounds so sweet rolling off your tongue.
Megumi corners you against the wall. Both of his hands casually in his pockets.
He watches you shift. Flicker your eyes in every direction. Fiddle with your thumbs.
His quiet.
His presence.
It flusters you. Well before he’s gotten the chance to run his hands along the lazy curve of your waist and hips.
“So…so blue.” You stammer. Your warm eyes metronome between his.
“They are.”
Megumi steps impossibly closer. His eyes drop to your chest. Dainty, nervous heaves. Up and down. Up and down.
“You are so,” you swallow thickly, dropping your gaze. “hard to read.”
Megumi snakes his large, graceful fingers into your nape. The temperature difference between your warmth and his cold startles you deeper into his grasp. Your head evanesces into his pull.
A beautiful, shocked gasp escapes you. Just as Megumi’s lips trace the shell of your ear.
“I want you.”
His breaths collide with yours, now. Heat welling deep in his groin. His cock thunders against his thigh.
“Can you read that?” Megumi rasps. Ensuring his voice vibrates down your spine.
A new sound tumbles from your lips. Like you choked on your last swallow. How pretty. You gurgling and gagging like that.
“W-want me? Megumi wh—“
“I.” Megumi nudges his thigh between your legs. His steel pipe erection digs into your dewy, hot core. He angles his leg slightly upward, inching you on the tip of your toes.
His prima ballerina, en pointe.
“Want you.” His lips ghost against yours. Free hand cups the flesh beneath your thigh. Pads of his fingers twitching to dig in.
The two of you drink in this lock-in-key fit. Megumi revels in you. Like this. At his complete mercy.
The prodigal son, born with more power than he knows what to do with.
Ten shadows. Ten Shikigami. It’s been centuries since the last head of his bloodline had power buzzing beneath his fingertips like him.
And somehow he’s never felt more powerful than this.
With you, heaven’s most precious angel, cradled in his arms. Drowning in sinful ecstasy. He brands this freeze frame into the most permanent part of his memory.
Then, he free falls off your cliff edge.
Megumi takes your lips with unfettered greed. Hunger woven into the way his tongue traces every corner of your delectable, soft mouth. His fingers push your head deeper into him. Sucking and nibbling on your warm muscle.
You shower him with airy, choppy little pants. Moans and whines so light they crescendo to fairy dust. You can’t keep up with his bruising kiss. His other hand palms your thigh, kneading little bruises into your silky smooth skin.
Marking what’s his.
“Oh my god.”
You breathe into his mouth when he lets you up for air. Megumi’s eyes dart down to the meeting point of your sex and his muscular thigh.
Did you really think he wouldn’t notice how you’re rutting your pretty little cunt against his leg like that?
Crimson high on your cheeks. You look away when he tries to catch your fucked out gaze.
“Don’t hide from me, gorgeous.” His hand traces up to your hips. You preen into his firm grip.
“Megumi.”
“Don’t stop, pretty girl.” He forcefully moves your hips in more dramatic, languid, deep rolls against his thigh. He’s not paying any mind to the pool of his precum soaking through his pants.
You bury your head in his neck. Fingernails digging pretty crescent moons into his back. You take over the pace. Undulating against him. Shameless. In complete heat.
“You feel s-so…so good.” Your lips smear against his dampened neck. Megumi responds by circling your puffy, slick bud with his fingers.
And fuck. The slurred, broken whimper that rings in his ears.
The way you hump him even more sloppily.
He could finish from that alone.
Your hand flies to your mouth. Empty huffs spilling. Whines ascending in pitch. You are close.
“Such pretty sounds, baby.”
“Megumi…meg..I-“
“Let it out.” He grips the back of your neck. Feeling dangerously close to his own nirvana. Drunk off your precious melody.
“Sing for me.”
“F-fuck, GOD.”
You bite down on his neck. Waves of pleasure crashing into you like hurricane winds. He grips your waist steady. Feeling every involuntary twitch and jerk of your doll-like frame.
Blessing or curse?
He doesn’t know.
But he will follow you to the end of his lifetime and the next.
“God, Fushiguro. That was…” The lusty haze from your peak settles around you. The once shattered world, slowly pieces itself back together.
“No.” Megumi pulls you out of his neck. Dropping his lips to yours, so he can breathe the air directly from your lungs.
“Meg. You call me Meg.”
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greenwitchcrafts · 4 months
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June 2024 witch guide
Full moon: June 21st
New moon: June 6th
Sabbats: Litha/Summer Solstice- June 20th
June Strawberry Moon
Known as: Aerra Litha, Birth Moon, Blooming Moon, Brachmanoth, Dyad Moon, Egg Laying Moon, Green Corn Moon, Hatching Moon, Hoer Moon, Honey Moon, Lovers Moon, Mead Moon, Moon of Horses, Moon of Making Fat, Partner Moon, Rose Moon & Strong Sun Moon
Element: Earth
Zodiac: Gemini & Cancer
Nature spirits: Sylphs & Zephyrs
Deities: Aine of Knockaine, Bendis, Cerridwen, Green Man, Ishtar, Isis, Neith & Persephone
Animals: Butterfly, frog, monkey & toad
Birds: Peacock & wren
Trees: Maple & Oak
Herbs: Dog grass, meadowsweet, moss, mugwort, parsley, skullcap & vervain
Flowers: Lavender, orchid, tansy & yarrow
Scents: Lavender & lily of the valley
Stones:  Agate, Alexandrite, cat's eye, chrysoberyl, emerald, fluorite, garnet, moonstone, ruby & topaz
Colors: Gold, green, orange & yellow
Energy:  Abundance, balance, change of residence, communication, decision making, education, family relations, full & restful energy, love, marriage, prosperity, positive transformation, prevention, protection, public relations, relationships, responsibility, strength, tides turning, travel & writing
While strawberries certainly are a reddish-pink color and are roundish in shape, the origin of the name “Strawberry Moon” has nothing to do with the Moon’s hue or appearance.
• June's full Moon is typically the last full moon of spring or the first of summer. The June Full Moon will be extraordinary. For the first time since 1985, Full Moon happens precisely on the summer solstice, when the Sun is highest up. Because the Full Moon is always opposite the Sun, this year, you will see that the Moon is 10 widths lower on the horizon than the Sun ever is. 
This “Strawberry Moon” name has been used by Native American Algonquian tribes that live in the northeastern United States as well as the Ojibwe, Dakota, and Lakota peoples to mark the ripening of “June-bearing” strawberries that are ready to be gathered. The Haida term Berries Ripen Moon reflects this as well. As flowers bloom and early fruit ripens, June is a time of great abundance for many.
Litha
Known as: Alban Heruin, Summer Solstice & Whit Sunday
Season: Summer
Element: Fire
Symbols: Besom, fairies, God's eyes, sunflowers & symbols of the sun
Colors: Blue, gold, green, orange, red, tan & yellow
Oils/Incense: Cinnamon, frankincense, heliotrope, lavender, lemon, lily of the valley, mint, musk, myrrh, orange, orange pine, pine, rose, saffron, sandalwood & wisteria
Animals: Cattle, crab, horse & octopus
Birds: Goldfinch, kingfisher, meadowlark, owl, robin & wren
Mythical: Fairies
Stones: Bloodstone, diamond, emerald, jade, lapis lazuli & tiger's eye
Food: Ale, bread, cheese, edible flowers, garden fresh vegetables & fruit, lemons, meade, milk, oranges, pumpernickel bread, summer squash & wine
Herbs/Plants: Anise, basil, betony, cinquefoil, copal, elder, fennel, fern, frankincense, galangal, hemp, ivy, larkspur, lemon, lemon balm, mistletoe, mugwort, mullien, nettle, orange, orpin, plantain, rue, saffron, sandalwood, St.John's wort, thyme, verbena, vervain, wild thyme & ylang-ylang
Flowers: Carnation, chamomile, daisy, heather, heliotrope, honeysuckle, lavender, lily, marigold, orchid, rose, wisteria & yarrow
Trees: Elder, holly, laurel, linden, oak & pine
Goddesses: Amaterasu, Aine, Anahita, Dea, Cerde, Dag, Dana, Eiru, Fenne, Gwydion, Kupala, Mabd, Phoebe, Skhmet & Sul
Gods: Apollo, Baal, Balder, Bel, The Dagda, Donnus, El, The Green Man, Helios, Huon, Jupiter, Llew, Loki, Lugh, Maui, Mithras, Oak/Holly King, Ogmios, Ra, Surya, Thor & Zeus
Issues, Intentions & Powers: Agriculture, changes, divination, ending, fertility, life, light, manifestation, power, purpose, strength, success & unity
Spellwork: Fire & water magick
Activities:
• Charge and cleanse your crystals in the solstice sun
• Make Sun water
• Create crafts with natural elements such as flowers
• Burn a paper with things that no longer serve you or that you are trying to let go
•  Invite friends & family over for a bonfire and/or feast
• Gather & dry herbs for the upcoming year
• Clean, decorate & cleanse your altar with summer symbols
• Brew some sun tea
• Take a ritual bath/shower with flowers
• Make your own sun dial
• Craft a door wreath out of flowers & herbs
• Enjoy some sunrise/sunset yoga
• Volunteer at a food kitchen or animal shelter
• Plant trees (especially ones that may provide fruit or berries to feed the wildlife)
• Watch the sunset & say a blessing to nature
• Make flower infused anointing/spell oils
• Eat fresh fruits & berries
• Participate in a handfasting
• Create shadow art
The history of Litha reveals its deep connections to ancient agricultural societies & their reliance on the sun's power. Celebrated as part of the Wheel of the Year, Litha symbolizes the balance between light & darkness. Throughout history  customs such as bonfires, herb gathering & the construction of sunwheels have marked this festival. Today, Litha continues to be celebrated by various communities, with gatherings at sacred sites & private rituals in natural settings. It serves as a reminder of our connection with nature and the cycles of life.
• The traditions of Litha appear to be borrowed from many cultures. Most ancient cultures celebrated the summer solstice in some way such as the Celts celebrated Litha with hilltop bonfires & dancing. Many people attempted to jump over or through the bonfires for good luck. Other European traditions included setting large wheels on fire & rolling them down a hill into a body of water.
Litha is often associated with Midsummer, a celebration that extends beyond the pagan and Wiccan traditions. Midsummer festivities are observed in many cultures around the world, including Scandinavian countries where it holds a prominent place in their cultural heritage. Midsummer dances, bonfires, & feasts are integral parts of these celebrations, often accompanied by folklore and traditional rituals that honor the sun's energy and the abundance of nature during this time.
The summer solstice is the longest day of the year & in some traditions, Litha is when The Sun(The God) is symbolically at it's peak time of power & the World will soon be ripe to harvest. It is also when The Goddess is pregnant with The God who is to be reborn at Yule.
• In the Northern Hemisphere the Summer Solstice occurs when the Sun reaches its highest and northernmost points in the sky. It marks the start of summer in the northern half of the globe. (In contrast, the June solstice in the Southern Hemisphere is when the Sun is at its lowest point in the sky, marking the start of winter.)
Some also believe the history & spirit of Litha revolve around two deities, The Oak King & The Holly King. In Wiccan and Neo-Pagan traditions, each King rules the Earth for half of the year. From Yule to Litha, the Oak King rules. On Litha, the two battled for the crown and it is then that the Holly King triumphs. The Holly King will rule through fall until Yule, and the cycle will begin again.
Related festivals:
• Vestalia- June 7th -15th
Was a Roman religious festival in honor of Vesta, the goddess of the hearth & the burning continuation of the sacred fire of Rome. It was held from 7–15 June & was reserved as a women's-only event. Domestic & family life in general were represented by the festival of the goddess of the house & of the spirits of the storechamber — Vesta & the Penates .
On the first day of festivities the penus Vestae (sanctum sanctorum of the temple of Vesta which was usually curtained off) was opened for the only time during the year, at which women offered sacrifices. As long as the curtain remained open, mothers could come, barefoot and disheveled, to leave offerings to the goddess in exchange for a blessing to them and their family.
For the last day, the penus Vestae was solemnly closed, the Flaminica Dialis observed mourning & the temple was subjected to a purification called stercoratio: the filth was swept from the temple and carried next by the route called clivus Capitolinus and then into the Tiber.
Sources:
Farmersalmanac .com
Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines
Wikipedia
A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs
Encyclopedia britannica
Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living
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shining-gem34 · 1 year
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The Guard of the Astral Express
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Name: Dan Heng
Species: Vidyadhara
Affiliation: The Astral Express
Occupation: Guard/Archivist
Gender: Male
Height: Typically around 5’8” (~ 177 cm)
Age: Physically appears 18-23
Birthday: ????
Path: Hunt
Element: Wind
>Ship Status: Open to multiship
>To see his Imbibitor Lunae version, please click here.  >To see Dan Feng (Past-Self; HCQ Era), please click here. 
>Lore  || Headcanons
“A mysterious young man who joined the Astral Express to avoid his kin. He acts as their guard and archiver on their long trailblazing journey. Although Dan Heng is reluctant to share the details, he knows his past will catch up to him eventually…”
Backstory
Dan Heng lived most of his life in the Shackling Prison, forced to bear the sins of his past self, Imbibitor Lunae- Dan Feng. When Arbiter-General Jing Yuan lowered his sentence to exile, he saw the outside world for the first time in his life. After his exile, Dan Heng lived a nomadic life boarding from one ship to another. He had no destination in mind other than to be as far away from the Xianzhou Luofu as possible. The other reason is Blade, a ghost from Dan Feng past, relentlessly pursuing him and destroying every ship Dan Heng is on in order to kill him. 
Or more accurately, force “Dan Feng” to pay for his sins. 
Eventually, after a disastrous experience on a Masked Fools ship, Dan Heng slain a giant monster and disembarks on the next port. He meets Himeko, the Astral Express Navigator, who thanks him and asks if he would like to join the Astral Express. Dan Heng, having no other destination in mind, agrees to join as their Guard (and soon Archivist). 
[Please refer to the “Lore” for full details of his character story and in-game story]
Appearance
[Please refer to the above image of Dan Heng appearance]
Personality
At first impression, Dan Heng comes off as a stoic young man who rarely loses his composure and remains level-headed. Sometimes, it will leave others to believe he is cold and indifferent. In truth, for the people who know Dan Heng, he is a kind soul with strong loyalty to his friends/family. He dislikes beating around the bush, preferring to speak bluntly and straightforwardly, but he is also careful with his word choice and tone. 
Even though Dan Heng can remain calm in the most perilous of situations, there are few things that can shake him to the core: Dan Feng's past and the meaning of his existence. 
Abilities
Dan Heng is a skilled spear-user  following the Path of the Hunt. He channels the power of Wind to help him deal significant damage with one thrust of his spear. 
Martial Arts: Dan Heng is proficient in Cloudlancer art, one of the many martial arts used in the Xianzhou. However, he is just as capable fighting bare-handed if needed. 
Combat Experience: Dan Heng has proven to be a strong fighter despite living most of his life in the Shackling Prison. Whether he is a gifted fighter, or, as some would believe, fighting with muscle memory, it has proven to be advantageous in dealing with life-or-death situations. 
Weapon: Dan Heng preferred weapon of choice is Cloud Piercer, his spear. He doesn’t mind using other weapons if necessary, but he dislikes it to the point he rather fights bare-handed. 
Cloudhymn Magic: Due to his Vidyadhara heritage, Dan Heng can use Cloudhymn Magic. He used it to disguise his Vidyadhara features and appear as a regular humanoid. He has also shown to be able to use his magic to manipulate water without needing to transform. 
Physical Stats: With a durable body and fighting experience, Dan Heng physical abilities are above a regular human. Also, he heals faster than a normal person. 
Longevity: The Vidyadhara are able to live up to a few centuries (around 700 years) before they reincarnate. They stop aging at a certain point, appearing eternally youthful for the rest of their lives until they are ready to return to the sea.
Notes
Regular Dan Heng and Dan Heng-IL will be used interchangeably, because he can switch forms freely. For a majority of the time, Dan Heng will appear as normal instead of Dan Heng-IL. He finds his true form to be a hassle for various reasons. 
The few times Dan Heng will change forms are: 
The situation is too dire that he cannot afford to hold back.
He is heavily injured and needs to transform to heal his wounds.
The situation requires that he needs to appear as Imbibitor Lunae (Example: IL Story Quest)
[Anything else will be added here]
Regular Dan Heng and Dan Heng-IL will always be called “Dan Heng”. Dan Feng will be called “Yinyue Jun/Imbibitor Lunae” for a majority of the time.
||Updated on 03/24/2023
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sakkiichi · 1 year
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CASTLES CRUMBLING.
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Memories of you are both cathartic and painful when he visits your grave.
ft. Kaedehara Kazuha, Xiao, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Lyney, Neuvillette x gn! reader.
cw/genre: angst.
if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !
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✧ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA
Autumn. The time of year that brought warm memories to the wandering samurai despite its chilly winds.
Shades of scarlet coated Inazuma’s grassy plains, like a rain constituted by droplets of dawn light when the maple leaves swayed to the ground.
And amidst this scene, you.
You, who danced to the tune of the foliage floating in the breeze; you, who snuggled his red scarf closer around your neck when he wrapped it around you, taking in his sweet cinnamon-like scent; you, whose hand used to fit perfectly in his, as you ran your thumb over the scarred skin under his bandages.
Kazuha finds himself staring at those now. He remembers all too well how you used to wrap them around his hand. Your lips brushed over every indentation in his burnt skin, overwriting storms with sunlight and blue skies.
“All healed now.” You sing-sang, the tenderness of your kiss over the wrapped scars.
It feels empty now, his grasp, still searching for you every morning, but you’re out of reach.
Even now, as the wandering poet’s head rests against you, he can’t quite feel your touch.
“Hello, my dove.” He begins, fingers brushing over the dendrobiums surrounding you. Moondust lashes kiss his cheeks when the sunsets in his stare cloud over, the image of your smiling face behind his lids. “It’s already autumn, remember how you called it our season, my angel?” He softly says, turning his head slightly, so that his forehead partially leans on you. “The leaves are turning red already, I’ve picked some for you.” Kazuha utters, as he gently threads them around the stone.
Hard. Cold. So unlike the warmth you radiated. He sighs, opening his eyes, tender hearths to warm your paralyzed heart.
“I’ve been writing too…” Dampness pools around his lashes. “Haikus, poems, because I know you love them, hummingbird…” The samurai’s voice cracks, vision blurry, as he traces the letters of the name he used to breathe in between kisses.
Your name. The only one that will forever echo through his sweetest dreams, double edged now.
Droplets of molten moonlight slide down Kazuha’s cheeks, colliding with the earth separating you from the world.
“We will meet again, my dove.” He vows, kneeling on the grass, moist by his tears. “In some corner of the next life. I promise, love.”
As he stands up, retracing his steps, the wind picks up.
Kazuha clutches his red scarf closer to him.
Your scent still lingers.
✧ XIAO
Spring had never felt so cold.
The sun over Liyue’s mountains is too dull; the glaze lilies appear closed off; the days feel too long.
The conqueror of demons makes his way through Guili Plains, his steps slow, as if that would keep away a cruel reality that’s set in stone.
He’s coming to meet you, and yet he’s never felt so far away from you.
In the few steps that separate the yaksha from you, an infinity of memories and bittersweet dreams seem to wash over him. They mingle with the scent of morning dew over qingxins bloomed anew.
Qingxin. What he used to call you.
“Xiaooo!” You cooed, a smile sweeter than the treat you offered him alight on your lips. “Dessert’s ready, love.” You called, offering him the plate of delicious almond tofu.
It was always his favorite, especially the one made by you.
His cheeks took on a tint not unlike the lipstick marks you left on him when you felt like teasing him, peppering his face with your honeyed kisses. You always used to chuckle at the sight.
“Qingxin…” his voice quivered, in awe, gaze of gold widened, sparkly. “There is no need for you to go through this trouble for me…”
“Nonsense!” You cut him off, hands cradling his cheeks. “I love making your favorite food for you, baby.”
Now he brings one of his own scarred hands to his face.
It’s so cold in comparison to your comforting warmth.
Yet even colder is the grey hue of the heavy stone that comes into view: the one marking the spot where you were laid to rest for good.
Slowly, resigned to the inevitability of reality, the vigilant yaksha reaches you.
Even though he knows he will no longer have you.
Xiao’s whole form trembles when he leaves the handmade butterfly over your gravestone. Its petal wings are all crooked, his grip vice-like in his anguish.
Now the flower-made insect will never fly again. A crystal bubble, lit up on his darkest nights, inside which dreams warm and sweet were recounted, as long as the adeptus stayed in your embrace; now shattered, only sharp fragments left to pierce his heart.
“I’m sorry…” is all the demon conqueror can manage as greeting, the moment he sits before you, head hung low.
The karma he bears had never crushed him this badly.
✧ SCARAMOUCHE
Winter squalls leave nothing but ashes behind.
The layers of snow have started melting, decrepit twigs following, the aftermath of a furious gale, death in its wake.
The wanderer seems to verse in the bony hands of it often, after all. This life, this world… they only ever took from him, shattered mirrors as the only remains of promises to never come.
He rests the back of his head on the frigid stone. He doesn’t care about the last remains of snow seeping into his very crafted bones.
Scaramouche’s hand closes into a fist, dirt and melted ice on his skin.
“They took you away too…” The puppet breathes, inexistent puffs of his words sifting against the blackened skies in the cold. His indigo gaze is clouded over, despite stars littering every corner of the midnight above.
A lie.
Make believe. Like thinking he could be happy for once.
Turning around, Scaramouche presses his forehead against what’s left to symbolize you.
“Why?” He asks, teeth gritted, to stop the helpless quiver of his lip. “Why you too?”
The softness of your human embrace takes ahold of his memories, as you both lay beneath the endless firmament above.
“Have you ever wished upon a star, Kuni?” You asked, your warm fingers combing through the distant nights contained in his shiny locks.
“Pft, are you serious?” He used to retort, the mirrored galaxies of his stare coming into view as his eyelids opened.
“Very.” You stated, without stopping your movements, eyes never leaving the starfields above.
“Why?” He asked, focused on your profile, as if a part of him knew how ephemeral instants like this would become, committing to memory the only constellation that lit up his hollow heart.
“Because it’s nice, to hope, to believe in things… wouldn’t you agree?” You smiled down at him, tender hands cradling the coolness of his jawline.
“Huh, if you say so…”
“You know I’m right!” You chuckled, poking his cheek playfully, his nose scrunching up in feigned annoyance.
“Ugh, whatever.”
“Make a wish?” Your fingers found his in the night breeze, entwining together, the warmth of a small sun just for him.
“Fine…” He sighed, closing his eyes, lashes of concealed dreams leaning on his perfect cheekbones.
“I wished for forever with you.” He croaks out now.
An almost god brought to his knees by the treacherous fate written in devious stars.
His vision blurs, headed skyward, the universe above, a multitude of molten wildfires to him, raining down in flammable rain, his own tears the match to ignite them.
The failed god weeps. Winter burns.
✧ LYNEY
“You never know what can happen in the blink of an eye.”
Those were the words the magician once uttered, as your eyes lit up in wonder. He believes to recall it was a summer night, when his dusky gaze set on you for the first time.
Beaming and shining with excitement, you marveled at his sleight of hand, as the lumidouce bell on the performer’s hand vanished, only for its petals to have tinted in rosy shades of rainbow when the bloom next appeared in your hair.
If anyone had told Lyney, in that moment, that you’d end up putting his heart under spell, he wouldn’t have quite believed it.
But thinking back on it now, the time spent next to you certainly feels like mere seconds.
A peculiar figure sporting a top hat makes his way towards Fontaine’s graveyard.
His steps are monotone, the usual cheshire-like grin on his visage is nowhere to be seen, and in his hands, flowers abound.
Lumidouce bells.
The color of goodbyes, separations.
And the summer nights under which he used to kiss you.
“Please, Lyney! I want to see another one!” You begged, hands clasped together, eyes reflecting the last rays of the setting sun.
Your lover hums, his gaze, the backdrop against which the sunsets in your stare sparkled.
“Well, mon coeur,” the magician leaned forward, “I’ll have to charge you for it this time, you know.”
You pouted, marcotte colored lips irresistibly sweet, a bite of sugary peach in the heat of an early midsummer’s night.
“Close your eyes, my rose.” Lyney breathed, in the little dusk-lit millimeters separating you two.
“Okay.”
Warmth flooded around him the instant his lips enveloped yours, akin to fairy lights in the coziness of a familiar room, fiery arrows that linked two hearts. Your lover’s hands cupped your jawline, spells written in the caress of his gloved touch over your skin.
A new breed of magic, with the sun dipping behind the nation of hydro’s mountains to give the lovers privacy.
When he next opens his eyes, the allure has faded.
No trace of you remains, save for the emptiness and cold beside him.
And the only nightmare he can’t undo; your tombstone all too palpable, too real.
“You really never know how everything can change in the blink of an eye, huh?” Lyney utters, his voice raw, hoarse.
Despite the lumidouce bells’ petals shifting from dusk to dawn the moment he lays them to rest over you, the magician feels like he’s shooting arrows made of shadows; there’s no fiery beacon to light up this night.
The curtain closes when he steps away, rainbow roses bleeding and lonely in his wake.
The sun has set.
✧ NEUVILLETTE
Off-key birdsong and steely skies.
Those are Fontaine’s Chief Justice’s companions today.
Alone, he sits next to the ghost of someone he used to adore.
Someone he still loves.
Crystalline amethyst eyes scan the horizon. Even the seas seem turbulent today, relentless waves colliding against jutting rocks, as if by persistence alone they could cut through them.
The wailing ocean mirrors Neuvillette’s actions; as if by staring in the distance, he could somehow conjure you up back into the world, on forgotten dreams and pieces of flashbacks alone.
“It looks like it will rain soon, my dearest.” He softly says, the words lost in the monsoon overcasting the heavens.
Naturally, no answer follows, except for the agonized cry of a fallen sparrow.
The Iudex of Fontaine sighs. An upheaval in the blowing mistral combs through his hair, the sensation unlocking the pages of a diary once rose-colored, now only scattered petals over a lake that’s gone still for good.
“Isn’t the weather so nice lately, Neuvi?” You chirped, knees folded over the azure flowerbeds. Your hands were carded through your lover’s long locks, silver seafoam running almost hypnotizingly between your fingers.
Sunbeams glittered all around you when his eyes opened up to you, enigmas from the depths being laid bare for you alone.
“It is, darling…” He trailed off, one of his hands touching the side of your face, eliciting giggles from you.
Pink dusted over the pallor of his cheeks whenever you did that.
If only all days could be sunny, if only he could have kept the symphony of your laugh forever playing…
The sea’s surface turns charcoal, undulating with the low whistling of uprising gales.
Dark spots start appearing over the stone where your name’s been eternally put to sleep.
Beneath the blindfold, Justice mourns.
It’s raining again.
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