#spiky mounds

[cosmicoptima]

[moonlight-rider25]

Jamie Fraser vs. Virginity

⚠️Warnings⚠️

Rated R, smut, unprotected sex, etc.

Summary

You've found yourself submerged in Jamie Fraser's attention. A gentleman, he refuses to make you do anything you're not ready and willing to do. A few pails of ale and songs from the drunken crowd; you find yourself entangled in more than just his embrace. Will your virginity scare him off as he finally has the chance to get his hands on you alone?...

His back muscles strain as he hovers gently over your body. You feel him ready and willing against your inner thigh. Reaching up gently, you stroke softly; his spiky stubble along his cheek and exhale heavily as you stare into his deep blue eyes.

“(Y/N)” He groans low as he pants heavily still watching you squirm beneath him.

“I want you…and I'm ready…” you tell him grinding your core up towards him with a deep breath and harsh swallow.

His lips meet yours again and you release all your body's tension beneath him as he closes the gap between the two of you. Your breath catches in your throat as he pulls away again. He strokes a stray piece of hair from your face as your chest heaves waiting for him to take you; to fully engulf himself within you.

Your core quivers as his hand runs down your check, neck, across your breasts and nipples; which are fully erect from his touch. His hand trails down the front of you; from your rib cage, down across your stomach. His hand inches slowly closer down towards your waist, across your soft mound, finally stopping at the aching entrance of your core.

“Mmmmm” He grumbles lowly into your ear, feeling your wetness against his fingertips.

You bite back a gasp in your mouth as his touch ignites a fire within you. His face meets yours again as he lines himself up with you. His pulsating cock twitching to feel your wet walls wrapped around him.

With your mouth a gap and his steady movements, his forehead meets your mouth and you wrap your arms around his neck as he gently begins pressing in against your soaking folds.

You groan out feeling him slide within you finally.

“Jamie!” You cry feeling his tip enter you.

He holds back, making sure to take his time to slowly open you as he presses deeper.

He sucks at your throat as he presses deeper, one thrust at a time deeper within you. His cock pressing between your folds and opening you further with each thrust.

You moan out again, and he stops meeting your eye again.

“Am I hurting you?” He asks in his thick accent.

You smile up at him. Pulling him closer wrapping your legs around his round little ass. You swallow back the words as you pull him closer and he looks down at your body, curving up towards him as he quickly lines himself again back up with you, and presses back firmly within your core. He jolts your body as he slams into you. Once, twice, three times before your eyes roll back in your head and you finally allow the roll of ecstasy to wash over your body.

“Yes!” You cry out against him.

He smiles down at you; thrusting again, back into you, as your body jolts beneath him.

“Harder!” You groan. Pulling at his neck as he obeys your wish and slams in against you.

You feel the waves rising up from your legs washing over you as he continues to slam impossibly inside you. Your breath is uncountable as your gut clenches and you arch yourself up against him.

“Right…There!” You cry as he thrusts and you hear his breath catch in his throat before releasing his tension against your entrance. Smiling against you as his high becomes unavoidable. You both pant against each other as the waves wash over you both and you feel yourself come undone beneath him. His movements sporadic and unjust as he empties himself inside you and slumps over against your damp body beneath him.

His hot breath on your collar bone as your bodies twitch through the orgasms, pulsing through your veins. Your breaths still ragged as his lips meet yours and you feel him remove himself from you. You run your hand over his stubble again and groan a bit as he removes himself from within you and rolls over on his side; his arm draped over your waist as he pulls you against him, and you sigh deeply against his chest as your breaths begin to slow rhythmically with one another…

[garblegarden]

We all know about making our own statueheads for our hnk ocs, but what about making them for the little rocks?

I've been sitting on these for a while but figured i'd share.

Anyways in order i have:

Bolide - a meteorite. shrouded in mystery.

Starball - a spiky ball of sandstone concretions. likes to roll around.

Breccia - a volcanic rock with bits and pieces of all sorts of minerals lodged within. also has an eye, for some reason.

Mound - a stromatolite. likes to sing.

[doumadono]

for sinful sunday: can we have dabi with his cock sucked?

SINFUL SUNDAY

Your left thigh draped over Dabi's lap as you were engaging in a passionate kiss.

Dabi's hands roamed along your spine, tousling the fabric of your blouse, descending to firmly grasp your buttocks, pulling you closer into his embrace.

Your hands traced along the sides of his face, your tongue exploring every inch of his lips, tongue, and mouth. Straddling him on the seat, your skirt rode higher up your thighs as you pressed your groin into his. Dabi skillfully tugged the blouse from your skirt, and his vainy hands vanished beneath the silk.

His impatience surged, leading him to tear the last few buttons of your blouse apart, exposing your stomach. His hand traced a path from your throat, between your breasts, down to your skirt. Continuing, his fingers reached the hem, pushing it up toward your waist. Delving between your thighs, his hand massaged your mound, eliciting a groan from you.

You sat back up, lifting your skirt even higher, providing him with better access, moaning quietly for him. "Dabi, yes…"

After a few moments of fingering your pussy with his long digits, Dabi gently lifted your body from his lap, laying you along the couch. "Let those thighs fall apart, sweetheart. I want to see your tiny pussy."

You complied, allowing your thighs to fall apart, resting your heels on his lap.

Dabi's eyes fixated on the sight of your dark underwear. "Lick your lips, baby. Show me what you want."

You licked your lips, moving the thong to one side, presenting yourself to him. "All I want is you, Dabi."

"Run that finger along those slick pussy lips. Let me see how wet you are, doll," he instructed.

You ran a forefinger along your slick pussy lips, expressing your excitement.

Bending down, Dabi spoke huskily, "Let me taste you, gorgeous," as he replaced your finger with his tongue after bending down a little.

You leaned back, biting your lower lip.

Moving with a rhythmic flow, Dabi's head bobbed up and down, and your hips synchronously rose and fell to match his rhythm. His right hand slowly traversed the back of your thigh, searching for the cleft between your buttocks, eventually sliding a moistened finger into your anus as he kept on eating your pussy out.

"Fuck," you whimpered, biting on one of your knuckles.

Your delighted squeal filled the air, and you eagerly pushed your pussy up into his face, your hands tightly entwined in his black, spiky hair. After releasing his hair, you raked your nails along his back.

In a bold move, you leaned forward, deftly reaching for his fly. Skillfully unzipping it, you drew out his impressive cock. It was sizable, and impressively thick. Gently pulling back his foreskin, it revealed his proud, purple, and engorged glans. Bending over, you took him into your mouth, skillfully licking and flicking your tongue until Dabi groaned with pleasure. His hands now firmly laced into your hair, urging your head lower, driving his cock into the back of your throat. "Fuck, yeah, just like that, little bitch."

Your head bobbed up and down, the pace steadily increasing. Despite the intensity, you persevered. After a moment, you descended on him once more, taking his entire shaft into your mouth, bobbing your head rapidly, giving your best effort to deepthroat him.

"Yeah, just like that," Dabi encouraged as you grabbed his balls, gently squeezing them between your fingers.

Finally, your head rose, akin to a deep-sea diver breaking the surface. You gasped for ragged breaths through your slightly parted lips, a trickle of saliva running from the corner of your mouth.

Dabi sat there, his rigid cock protruding from his trousers.

You stood up, raised your skirt above your waist, and slid your thong over your hips, letting it fall to the floor.

Dabi turned, resuming a normal sitting position, and you climbed onto his lap. Guiding his cock into you, you slid down its length slowly, relishing every inch. When he was fully inside, you rested there for a few seconds, dipping your hips and feeling his hardness against your cervix. Finally, the tension became too much for you, and you lifted your pelvis until he was only just inside your lips. Then you drove down hard, groaning as he thrust upwards, matching your descent. The motion was repeated, again and again, slowly at first, but increasing in speed until you were bouncing in his lap.

Both of you were within seconds of cumming when you lifted yourself completely off of Dabi, falling to the side of the couch.

Dabi lifted himself onto his knees and pumped his cock several times. His orgasm came in an explosive ejaculation that sprayed over your breasts and throat. "Fuck, yes! So fucking good, you're so fucking hot, little cunt."

As the last dregs fell onto your perfect skin, you brought yourself to your own orgasm, your fingers forced into your pussy. "Dabi!"

He sat back, a grin playing over his lips. He tossed you a tissue, almost indifferently, and you wiped yourself down. Dabi zipped himself back into his jeans, while you fastened your blouse, replaced your underwear and straightened your skirt.

"I love fucking with you, little one," Dabi grinned, lighting a cigarette with his index finger and a little blue flame flickering on its tip.

[pokemonshelterstories]

Hey there from Unova.

Came into possession of an egg a few days ago, and had it hatch into a beautiful male Bagon about 2 hours ago. Little guy has been fed, cleaned up, and is currently passed out on the couch. I know they instinctively climb whatever they can find to jump off in preparation for their evolution into Salamence, and while he most certainly will have been rehomed FAR before that, (don't have the time, money, or desire to care for a 'Mon that big, and denying it the chance to achieve its dream of flight just seems cruel.) I was wondering when those instincts would start to kick in.

it's pretty much an immediate thing for them. bagon, like a lot of reptilian pokemon, are precocious- they hatch ready to take on the world as miniature versions of their fully-grown selves. in fact, salamence build their nests on top of mounds of dirt that they pile up and form a bowl in, so when a bagon hatches, it must crawl up the lip of the bowl and then jump down from the mound. it's instinctual behavior for them!

in the wild, this behavior controls itself a little bit; when they're small, the bagon can't climb up very high, so they also can't jump down very far unless they find a sizeable cliff to launch off of. the best way to handle this in captivity is to provide scaling levels of height for your bagon to climb up. generally, he shouldn't have access to heights more than four times his own height until he's fully grown, after which he can scale his way up to heights of about one story tall! they also have some great natural cushioning, so as long as you don't have any spiky death traps in your house, he should be okay!

[deepdreamnights]

Corvid Morbidities

When a psychopomp dies, there is little to hold it in the afterlife beyond the honor system and a general trend toward retirement. This rarely has much impact, save when the creature falls to disease. The ghosts of bacteria and the spectres of viruses cling to feathers and fluids alike.

The only thing worse than the bird flu, is being haunted by it's phantasm.

Prompt: an abstract graphic featuring an image of a sloth, in the style of psychedelic overload, portraiture with emotion, daz3d, multi-layered collage, colorful moebius, emotive gestures, psychedelicpunk:: a poster for the horror film the raven, in the style of funk art, blink-and-you-miss-it detail, frenzied action painting, neogeo, spiky mounds, realistic hyper-detail, extremely gendered

[robinsnest2111]

feeling sick as a dog cannot stop me from thinking about fem!crue...

I know we love the gals showing how much they adore their old woman in their rough and enthusiastic ways, but I keep thinking about....

maybe Mick is having a particularly bad day, either physically or feelings wise. Keeping to herself, keeping Nikki, Tommy, and Vince at a distance. All of their usual attempts to cheer Mick up fail.

So they pivot, try something new. They try being very soft and gentle with Mick. Light touches along her hands and arms, barely there kisses to her cheeks, her neck...

Mick catches on to her girls' intentions, trying to get past her spiky defenses to cheer her up, but this is so new and unlike anything they've done before so she lets them do their thing, wondering where this will lead.

Of course it leads to the bedroom. Mick spread out in the middle of the mattress, Nikki and Tommy easing her out of her clothes, one piece at a time, still so gentle and sweet, leaving butterfly kisses along the way. Vince keeps Mick busy by running her manicured nails through Mick's hair, making sure not to pull or snag on any knots that might be there, giving Mick's scalp a gentle massage while occasionally dropping sweet little kisses all over Mick's face, on her temples, the tip of her nose, the corners of her mouth, almost teasing, smiling down at her with her angelic smile.

Once Mick is completely naked, the girls tend to her body as if she were a goddess and they're the dedicated disciples worshipping her. Kisses all over, the gentlest licks and bites. Tommy and Vince are lavishing Mick's chest with affectionate care, squeezing and kneading, licking and sucking on a breast each, caressing Mick's sides, nuzzling into her warm pliant body on occasion.

Mick is resting a hand on each of their heads, fingers threaded through their hair; the softest moans and sighs leaving her lips. Tommy, Vince and Mick are so focused on each other, they don't realise Nikki is taking a moment to drink in their beautiful display. Her bandmates being so sweet and gentle and attentive with their old woman... It's making some kind of emotion squeeze her heart in her chest that she's not yet ready to further examine. Nikki shakes herself from these thoughts and runs her hands up Mick's beautifully pale thighs, slowly parting them to nestle herself between them.

She starts with barely there kisses on the inside of each knee, making her way up Mick's legs, until she reaches the area where thigh meets body, pressing more kisses into Mick's skin there, just as pale and beautiful as the rest of her.

Another kiss to Mick's mound, adorned by an adorable spread of ginger hair, as Nikki slides her fingers up to Mick's folds, gently parting her for better access.

Nikki's eaten out a respectable number of girls over the years but she can't recall ever displaying this level of restraint, of solely focusing on her partner, forgetting about her own desires for a bit, trying to go as slow and gentle as possible. It's always been about the quick rush of overwhelming pleasure before. She's trying to refocus as she eases one and then two of her fingers into Mick's wet heat, bowing down to leave gentle kitten licks after each slow swipe of her thumb over Mick's clit.

Mick's moans have risen in volume ever since Nikki started her ministrations, Tommy and Vince are now cuddled into Mick's side, left and right, still massaging her chest, occasionally flicking her nipples, running their hands up and down her torso. They're whispering sweet praise into Mick's ears with the gentlest of kisses to her face and bites to her neck, enjoying the gorgeous view of their old woman slowly coming apart beneath their tender loving touches.

Nikki can feel Mick is close by how tightly her walls are squeezing her fingers, moaning and begging for something, anything, calling out her name almost like a prayer.

As she finally tips over the edge with a drawn out moan akin to a sigh, Mick can't help but clamp her trembling thighs closed around Nikki's head, still buried in her folds as deep as she can go, fingers and mouth both, tongue stilled in a final lick over her clit.

The tension leaves Mick's body, legs falling apart to release Nikki from their firm hold. Nikki eases out of Mick's core as gently as she had entered, leaving a last parting kiss to her wet lips, Mick's juices smeared all over the lower half of Nikki's face.

Nikki can't help but grin, sharing a victorious look with Tommy and Vince, they managed to make their beloved old woman relax!

As much as Nikki wants to stay and cuddle into Mick's adorable soft pouch beneath her bellybutton, resting with the other girls for the rest of the day, she knows things will get gross fast. So she gets up to grab a couple wet towels to clean Mick and herself up.

Tommy and Vince can also be coaxed away from Mick's side with the promise of snacks and a good movie in the living room. The girls help Mick into a fresh set of comfy clothes and make sure she's as comfortable as possible once they're all settled on the couch <3

---

HELP I'VE NEVER WRITTEN SUCH DETAILED SMUT BEFORE AND IT'S ACTUALLY DECENT????

anyway enjoy before I become too embarrassed and delete this post haha <3

[aisphotostuff]

Echinops @ Sexbys London by Adam Swaine Via Flickr: Echinops or globe thistle, has spiky leaves and bristly, round flowerheads.The Globe Thistle's flowers are striking in the garden where their colour and form provide contrast to the more usual mounds and spires of summer flowers. Excellent for wildlife. Attracts Bees, Butterflies and Ladybirds.

[sonicanvas]

A Forsaken Deal(Tekken BloodLust AU mini-story)

Prequel to "Breaking Brat"

Explicit content warning: NSFW nudity, genderbending.

Kazuya was locked in an empty void. Purple Haze surrounded him in an air of chaos that lurks within.

Where the heck am I? Am I supposed to be dead? Is this Hell? He thought.

"Welcome to my prison, Kazuya Mishima."

A voiced echoed through the room. A mix of growls shook the ground beneath him.

"Who are you?" Kazuya asked.

"You were five years old when I saved you from that cliff," said the voice.

"I didn't ask you to save me. That old man never wanted me anyway."

"You don't choose your time of death, Kazuya. I do." A giant crystalline creature walked towards him in gigantic steps, the ground shaken even more. "I am The One, The Devil. Azazel, The Rectifier."

"The Devil, as in... The Devil Gene?" Kazuya crossed his arms. "Does that have anything to do with the reason Heihachi killed my mother and her family?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Azazel nodded. "Your mother was the leading scholar of Hachijo Clan. She worships me, prepared me for my awakening on Earth. Now, you are her last hope, to rebuild what the Hachijo have lost."

"By killing Heihachi?"

"That is not what I said."

"My body is incinerated in lava. I'll take any chances of going back up there."

"As you wish," Azazel waved his hand. Dark energy surrounded Kazuya, lifting him up in the air and puts him on a chokehold. He could keep his breath, but unable to speak nor move his body.

"You have possessed the power to feed upon men and their life forces, but from now on I will grant you a choice to create new servants as you regain your strength. But once the pangs of hunger strikes, you will be reborn in a suitable body that lets them bend upon your will."

A violent force radiated from his core and spread to his body, making him feel smaller and weaker, his nipples growing larger and stuff and he could feel his pants about to slide off his waitsline. Kazuya was unable to move his head, but he could feel his usual spiky hair falling down to silken strands tingling over his scalp, leaving him with no choice but to close his eyes shut.

As he opened his eyes once again, he was greeted by a buzzing light. He puts his hands over his left eye, feeling it more sensitive than ever.

He managed to sit upwards. Something felt heavy around the chest, but not enough that he was aware of his surrounding. The room feels very white, and one hand was connected to an IV tube, which he instinctively removed.

It feels like a dream, he thought to himself.

Finally standing up, despite feeling the gravity might have shifted lower down, he managed to walk towards the bathroom sink and washed his face. Noticing the mirror looked clouded from the cold air, he decided to wipe it off, revealing a face that wasn't his.

...hers.

"No fucking way", she muttered, then noticing her voice went higher while maintaining her usual raspy tone. "That is not my voice."

She looked down, realizing the heaviness actually came from a pair of supple mounds on her chest. Her hands, once muscular and sinewy with calloused fingers, now flawlessly delicate with nails taking on black polish, forming digits of sharp talons, though her arms maintain some amount of muscles she—he used to have as a man, making the scars he got from falling off a cliff looked cooler on this athletic female body.

"Does that mean—" Kazuya reached down to her pants. Feeling the void between the legs where something else used to be there. Her hands then roamed around the hips, feeling her thighs which are now rounded and thick with nicely accommodating rear and long legs that will stop traffic and drive any woman envious. By that point in time, she felt this body making her prettier than the forest ranger she hooked up after the second tournament.

She left a sigh, wishing to indulge in this new body, but there is no time in dwelling. She had to find a clue in what room she was held captive. Another regret being her only clue was a letter "G" on her sports bra. Kazuya also didn't expect to have such knowledge for knowing the sports area of every department store where she always found his sneakers would always include such item. She decided to walk out of the room, only to encounter what seemed to be a janitor, same letter was attached on his ID.

"Oh, you're subject number 420. I'm here to deliver some freshly laundered clo—"

Before he finished his sentence, she swept him by the leg, grabbed his neck and pinned him against the wall. It is not helping that her body made her slightly smaller than usual, but lifting him up is more than enough to intimidate.

"Where am I?" Kazuya asked.

"Si—I mean Ma'am—I mean..."

"Answer me!" Blue electrics surged through her arms.

"Ma'am, you're in a lab. This is their incubation room to monitor your vitals."

"What does this letter G stand for?" She pointed at the letter on her bra.

"Uh..." The janitor tried to focus on it but tried to look away for how much his eyes were drawn too much towards her sensuous cleavage. "...G-Cups?"

She lifted him up once again and hit his head towards the wall.

"THE LOGO, YOU LITTLE DIPSHIT!"

"uh...uh... G-Corporation! It's G-Corporation! Please don't hurt me..."

"Tch, never heard that one before, but you made me starving."

Kazuya smelled the air around the janitor, the sweat gives away a scent of fresh blood she couldn't wait to indulge. Her fangs elongated, piercing through the nape of his neck. As she began sucking the fresh metallic flavor, so satisfying that she revel in the physical experience, her body grew taller, her hair started lifting up and the muscles she once lost have restored while the janitor shrank down, making his clothes hanging loose on his body. He slumped unconscious on the ground, now mirroring her female transformation, while Kazuya was fully restored. Feeling more strength came back to him as he looked at his hand, returning to his familiar male body.

"That's neat," Kazuya muttered to himself as he got rid of the sports bra he no longer needs and took the freshly laundered clothes to wear. Donning in light grey shirt and black pants, he noticed a letter that comes with the clothes he wear. He opened the envelope and read the letter.

Kazuya Mishima,

If you read this as you were awake from your slumber, we are waiting for you to our next meeting in our boardroom by 9 A.M.

Knowing your history with the Mishima Zaibatsu and your anomalies within our studies of you, we are looking forward to your cooperation in order of furthering our research studies in the latest bio-technology.

Best regards,

Dr. Abel

"I'll come there early, just to teach them a lesson or two," Kazuya adjusting his shirt and walked out of the room. He didn't know who was this Dr. Abel, but all he knew is that he could give an idea of keeping this body permanent, if there was such a way for it. Or perhaps, he would remain cursed to walk between two worlds?

[legitimatesatanspawn]

There's some things that you just have to wonder why it was eaten and how people figured out how to eat it in the first place.

I always assume it's a combination of at least one of the following: drunk/stoned, desperately hungry, or either stubbornness or as the result of a bet.

Like large shellfish such as crabs and lobsters are giant mounds of spiky rocks that are start out goopy inside. Easy to assume someone just dropped one in a stone pot for whatever reason. But god only knows with pufferfish - yes it's a fish but it's a deadly DEADLY fish.

[typowow]

Sculpture of a tree with many branched resembling branches, in the style of abstracted botanical illustrations, monochromatic symmetry, dark brown and gray, lithograph, paper cut-outs, spiky mounds, elongated forms --ar 23:29 --v 5

[fairydares]

Ice and Igni (Chapter 2)

Pt. 1 (definitely read this first) ; AO3

Rating: M (suggestive content especially in this chapter but no smut, though there will be some if I choose to continue with this story. I also want to do a Nalu/Gruvia stone age omake to precede this one maybe but we'll see).

See AO3 for tags and stuff please.

Summary: It isn't the first time Nasha has gotten lost while hunting, but it is the first time one of the males who abandoned her tribe long ago is the one to find her...and it just had to be while she's bathing. All she wanted was to become a stronger huntress than Erza!

I don't own Fairy Tail, only this silly little plotline.

~~~

Chapter 2: Igni Faces Ice

The second her tribe had settled into their new encampment, Nasha had run off, waving goodbye to her family and pretending she couldn’t hear her mother screeching for her to come back.

It was probably selfish of her to ditch her mom, her little brother Luke, and the flying cat Harley, to set up camp by themselves. But she hated setting up camp! It was sooo boring.

Besides, she wasn’t really being selfish; she’d scooped up her bow and spear before she left. Their tribe had been walking as far as they could every day for weeks. They’d already been hungry, but now, several tribe members had meat cravings. Nasha would get a saber-boar or a long-tailed moose, something big enough to fill everyone’s bellies before Erza could beat her to it.

It was only when she realized she was lost that it occurred to her that she maybe, possibly should have stopped to listen to her mom…because she might have said something about the unfamiliarity of the area and needing to be careful to keep track of how far she’d gone.

Usually, Nasha would use her sharp sense of smell to find her way back, but there were so many new and unfamiliar smells around here—plants and animals she’d never seen before! She kept getting distracted which, in turn, made her get even more lost.

Once, she could’ve sworn she caught the scent a person, but even that was strange. Her instincts told her it was definitely human, but on the other hand, it was nothing like the scent of anyone she’d ever met.

Stronger. Deeper. More pungent.

It was so old and faint that she could only catch a wisp of it the once.

She wondered, briefly, if it could be a male. But she quickly dismissed the idea. The women’s tribe had been wandering for years, mostly in search of their men and boys. So far, they’d turned up squat. How likely was it they’d really find them this time?

The males had vanished years ago, when she was just a little girl. Even her dad. The only reason Luke was with the women’s tribe at all was because her mom hadn’t known she was pregnant when her father vanished. If Luke had already been born, the men would have taken him, too. And no one knew why.

Nasha had stopped asking her mom about her dad long ago. Talking about him made her mom too sad. Secretly, though, Nasha was determined to find him and the other men, one day. She’d demand answers regardless of whether he wanted to give them. She’d beat them out of him, if she had to. She wanted to know why she wasn’t good enough for him to stick around and watch her grow up. Nasha was strong. She was one of the best huntresses in her tribe. She always protected her family.

She’d inherited his igni.

“Ooh, what’s that bunny!” she gasped, chasing after a crazy looking rabbit with horns and a purple, spiky tail. It got away, leaving her pouting in the strange woods. She could’ve used stealth to try and kill it, but she knew better than to keep hunting now, no matter how bad she wanted to surpass Erza. The acceptability for risk went way down the second she got lost. Carrying around bloody, stinky dead prey she couldn’t even be sure was edible while lost was a bad idea.

She still acted without thinking sometimes, but Nasha wasn’t as reckless as she’d once been. She’d gained her holy mounds and come into her blood years ago. She’d even grown taller than all the women in her tribe except Cana. With age came experience. With experience came wisdom or death, and Nasha had no plans of croaking any time soon.

It wasn’t long before her head thudded in pain from sniffing so much confusing, new stuff. Her feet hurt, too, and she was sweating like crazy. It was strange for her to be hot (or cold, for that matter) with her power over igni, but the air was humid, sludging through her lungs and making the back of her neck itch. She’d drunk all her water long ago.

The sun blazed near its highest point when she pushed through some bushes with weird, swirly, blue leaves and found a spring. She cried out in relief when she dipped a toe in the water and found it cold. Her pelts and necklaces were still soaring through the hot air when she vanished under the surface with a huge splash.

“Thank Mother Mavis,” she moaned, floating on her back and closing her eyes. As the aches ebbed from her head and feet and the water cooled her sticky skin, she started to worry about how she’d get back, tears forming in her eyes, but she quickly shook it off. Panicking wouldn’t help. She’d refresh herself, fill up her skein with some buried water from over near that limestone she’d spotted while undressing, user her igni to boil it, and then figure out what to do.

She only wished she knew which plants she could use to clean herself, but she didn’t know any of these ones. So Nasha used her hands to scrub water against her scalp, neck, and more pungent bits, ending with the folds of her blessed valley. She flushed slightly as her fingers rubbed that spot that always made her breath go funny and her skin feel hot. The older women in the tribe spoke of such things, at times, but those conversations always came back around to the males and their “sacred rods”, which were some kind of shape-shifting snake they had where their blessed valleys were supposed to be.

At that point, women like her mom, Wendy, and Erza always blushed and forced everyone to change the subject, not that Nasha really cared. She knew some things. She knew the males were sorta like them, but bigger overall. She knew that just talking about them and their sacred rods made the older women act weird. They’d blush and smile and their eyes would get all dark and they’d generally act like freaks.

They’d giggle about the power they claimed to hold over the sacred rods. To Nasha, it seemed pretty obvious that it was the males who held some kind of power over them (except Wendy and Cana…although Cana got flushed and weird when it came to discussions of sacred rods and blessed valleys, truthfully.)

Nasha didn’t really think about it much. She was curious enough to listen a bit when they spoke on it, but not enough to ask about it like her best friend, Jeela, often did. Then again, Jeela was a lot like her mom, Levy; intensely curious even about things she’d never seen.

Nasha was the opposite. Who cared about whatever weird tumors the males had growing out of their blessed valleys? They weren’t around so it didn’t matter. At least not as much as tonight’s meal, tomorrow’s journey, the scent on the breeze, or the shape of the moon.

The only reason she even believed the stories was because she trusted her mom and the other women in their tribe. Plus there was Luke, who never denied the existence of the sacred rods, which meant he must have one. Not that Nasha had ever seen it or had any desire to. She did know he could pee standing up, which was so not fair!

Quickly withdrawing her hand from the folds of her blessed valley, she shook off the weird thoughts and waded out until the water came up to her knees. Turning, she squinted up at the sun and tried to gauge its lean, lifting an arm to cover the peaks on her holy mounds as the hot breeze tickled them distractingly.

There was a rustling sound behind her, making her heart slam into her throat. She whipped around halfway, eyes wide as the rustling grew louder.

A tree branch was pushed aside.

And then he was there.

The male’s scent hit her the second her eyes landed on him. He was downwind so she hadn’t caught it sooner. She knew, then, that the scent she’d caught earlier had been a male’s—not his, though. His was much nicer than that one. Cleaner, with something cold and fresh about it, but the two scents shared a quality she’d never encountered on any female’s scent or even Luke's, though he was only ten.

The older women had not lied about the males’ height and strength. Nasha was by far the most visibly muscular woman in her tribe, but this male’s shoulders, arms, and stomach were just ridiculous. He was also much taller than her or even Cana, still slightly ducking under a branch Nasha had easily walked under when he stilled completely. She wondered how he could even teeter and totter around like that.

A shocked expression consumed his unusual, angular face. A pair of wide blue eyes dropped to her legs, then climbed up.

Meanwhile, Nasha blinked. There was a woman in their tribe with clear, strange blue eyes like that. Juvia, who held such power over izu that rain fell whenever she spoke of her missing male, “Gray-sama,” and son, “Rage-chan” (or something…it was hard to understand what she said when she always sobbed and wailed). The other women would groan whenever her anguish called the izu, but Nasha kind of thought it was awesome. Juvia was so powerful, she called on her element without even meaning to.

Plus using her igni in the rain was good training, so Nasha often used Juvia’s despair to get stronger, standing near the wailing woman and roaring as she generated a blaze from her skin under the downpour until she couldn’t any more. Her mom sometimes yelled at Nasha for it, accusing her of being insensitive, but what was better? Leaving Juvia crying alone in the rain just because you were a baby about getting a little wet?

Other than Juvia, she’d never seen anyone else who had eyes like the ocean under a clear sky…

Except the first male she’d ever seen.

Nasha’s dumbfounded attention stayed on those eyes even while they clambered over every inch of her bare body, barely even noticing how they lingered in certain places—her rear, her mounds, her hair. Then they locked onto hers.

Her lips parted on a gasp. A powerful feeling she couldn’t fight or place swept through her. If familiarity was the sun, then this feeling was the moon. I don’t know him, her mind insisted, almost panicked. But something deep inside her, deeper even than the instincts she always relied on, disagreed. I always have.

The feeling was blown clean out of her head when the male’s cheeks suddenly went bright red, his expression twisted in pain, and he dropped his spears to clutch the spot between his legs. “What…the…hell?” he gritted out in a voice so deep, she nearly flew through the forest canopy. Then he collapsed to his knees.

[ruins-of-starlight]

Current iteration of RoS Resh (hopefully the last, RIP chunky spike dragon)

Corruption in RoS is more of a tarry substance rather than spiky and dusty

The spires on his back are supposed to be darkstone, and he's usually not in this form when not going on the offensive/defensive, half the time he's just an enormous mound of corruption and darkstone or just covered in corruption clouds

[jovialtorchlight]

to be a feral child in the summer of 2005, tongue stained red with hawaiian punch, stepping on the spiky dry grass of a front lawn, the crest of a hill where the sun hits with small mounds of anthills and dirt, a half eaten ham sandwhich with doritos crunched on top in one hand and a supersoaker in the other, wet oversized tanktop slapping against my stomach as i run, beelining towards phil delmar's inground pool, blasted on all sides by streams shot from water guns, bellyflopping into the cholrinated water

[ejaydoeshisbest]

I am relearning how to be kinder to myself.

I am relearning how to be kinder to myself. To quiet the tyrant and kick him to the curb. It is difficult to search for the softer words of comfort I readily release to someone else, and maybe that is the trick: I’ve heard it said to treat yourself as you would a best friend.

So, here goes.

“I may not like what you look like now, but I know that we’ll get back to glowing up soon. It all starts today. You’re not useless. You’re not a leech. You’re fine. Let’s begin with that. I’ll be here for you if you need me. I’ll walk with you. Stop shutting me out.”

It feels like there are two opposing groups of voices in my head now. I imagine them as groups of cold businessmen dressed all in formal black. Then groups of stereotypical hippies wearing flower crowns and passing ribbons made of cotton and silk. They are in a tug-of-war with a small thin boy in the middle, his arms stretching, pulled on both sides.

“Go at your own pace. You’re doing the best you can, even if your best is just a mediocre okay.” Whoops. Probably should have left the “mediocre” part out.

I allow myself to breathe as best as I could. I speak to myself in the softest whisper I can manage. I pat myself on the back at the end of each day and kiss myself on the cheek whenever I pass by the mirror or whenever I brush my teeth. I allow myself to take afternoon naps, because I deserve it, instead of using it as a tool to quiet the cold businessmen in black suits. I congratulate myself for each accomplishment, even though they’re mounds to someone’s mountains—whoops, there I go again comparing myself. I should stop that.

I allow my body to be a small, insignificant thing in the grander scheme of things. A temporary wisp of smoke passing through. So are my spiky thoughts; temporary, loud but flimsy. I feel the fog lift in me, revealing the chorus of comfort my family keeps repeating. I can hear them clearer today.

I encourage myself as I trip and scrape my knee. “The real tragedy is giving up, bestie. Get back up. Slowly, now. Wouldn’t want you tripping again.”

I got a haircut today and as I sat on the swiveling seat, I felt the familiar bite of panic. I didn’t like how my eyes always looked like they were about to cry, and my mind convinced me that there was something wrong, oh no escape oh no run run run, so I talked with my barber, a man twice my size and looked like he belonged in a wrestling studio and asked him some questions that I don’t even remember now. I focused on his voice as I talked to myself.

“There now, you big baby, you’re going to be fine. You can’t rely on anyone to save you all the time. Come now, you’re doing great. There’s nothing wrong with you. In fact, you’re looking better than I saw you last!”

I coax myself out every day. I hold myself together. I’m tired of beating myself up. I can’t be scared all the time. It’s time to listen to a kinder voice that wants the best for me now.

Words: Ejay Diwas

[matrica-a-novelized-actual-play]

Chapter 20: Sticky

“Are you sure it’s supposed to smell like this?” Between the gasses of decay bubbling up from the loamy ground, the unpleasant whiff of animal musk, and the alleged fragrance of the rare plant they were searching for, this swamp did not top Kaspar’s best field trips. “I’m almost certain,” Virion quietly answered. “Supposedly its flowers recall a decomposing corpse. We must be close by.” “In the bouquet of bad smells, it’s more skunk than dead body, if you ask me,” Kaspar countered. Besides the wretched smell itself, something felt off. Kaspar scanned the vicinity. Ahead of them, a mound of raised greenery with spiky snags jutting from it seemed out of place both in topography and plant formations. This seemed like the source of the stench. As he was studying it, the leafy mound suddenly lifted a head, revealing a face that was bull-like but full of massive tusks and teeth. Virion, with his eyes on his footing, hadn’t even noticed. Kaspar swiftly tackled him sideways into the brush, out of the beast’s line of sight. “What—?!” the scholar blurted as they were both saturated with muck. “Shh. Catoblepas. Not sure if it noticed us.” To face the creature would be suicidal. Kaspar’s hands located a few rocks in the mire below, and he chucked them as hard as he could in the opposite direction as a diversion. To his relief, massive footsteps began to slosh towards the sounds of their impact, leaving the pair free to creep away. Once they’d reached a safe distance, Virion tenderly rested a hand on his rescuer’s shoulder. “What would I do without you?” “Probably get eaten,” Kaspar replied, only half-joking. “Can’t have that, can we?”

After a few days of uninterrupted smooth sailing, the shortage of fresh foods necessitates a trip to shore. Kaspar and Madoc make another attempt at being competent colleagues but end up in a sticky situation. Hijinks and -ahem- "teambuilding" ensues.

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