the-thorn-of-a-rose - Tumblr blog

[the-thorn-of-a-rose]

Snickerdoodle

(Cw: bittersweet, death and mourning, no kink) She looked at the affini in the way one looks at the stars for the first time, in the way that was filled with equal parts confusion and wonder and that dizzying sense of perceiving something wholly unlike the world she ever knew. The affini smiled down at her with a serenity that felt impossible to shake, holding out a gift, an invitation, and a promise.

It was called a 'snickerdoodle', a word that felt like laughter on her tongue when she said it. She said it twelve times that night: once to make sure she heard it correctly, ten times in the mirror to herself after she got home, and once more before turning off the light. The last thoughts that spun through her head tasted of warm vanilla and softly sweet cinnamon, of wishing she could always have one in her bedside table for hard moments. To remind her of this Day.

Her Spring was a season of firsts: first dates, first kisses, first secrets, first dances in starlight. She learned how warm the affini's core was as they embraced, slowly circling the pavilion where they first met as they stepped in time with the music that was felt more than heard. She gave her last true choice on that night, offered it up to the one who wrapped around her heart and sang her a lullaby.

She spoke with her affini in the way an old married couple does, in the way that was less words and more humming and gentle sighs and careful flicks of their eyes. Of shared jokes and shared memories and shared love, of a trust that only deepened with time. It was the girl's greatest and most beloved gift: the relationship between her and her affini was irreplicable, irreplaceable, irremovable. She lived a thousand days of warmth and movement and passion, of sweat on her brow and rosy red blushing her cheeks. And after they were done, she felt the affini's serenity cascade through her muscles and fill her thoughts.

She took up baking, working on her craft for years. Her hands grew strong and sure as they kneaded dough and mixed the ingredients together. She sang while she worked, a trait she learned from her affini. They would often bake together, the harmony in their voices carrying out the open window and over the nearby hills. It rang of joy, the kind one has when they are happy to be alive, to be in this very moment, to share a memory with another. She never tied her hair up, so her affini would always have to reach behind her and keep it out of the way. The girl always rolled her eyes and laughed when the affini shook a vine at her in mock warning.

Her Summer was a season of motion: bodies in motion, motioning for friends to come closer, the motion of a musical melody. She learned about change, on how affini would grow old and weaker before being reborn in an eruption of vines and love. She held her affini's hand as they closed their many eyes on this bloom, and squealed with joy as they lifted her on arms anew. She gave her last sigh of relief that morning, the last true worry in her mind extinguished.

She walked with her affini in the way one walks when their body is aging faster than their mind, in the way that was an itch to run and frolic and get dirt on her knees…but accepted that most of those days were behind her. She smiled with some of that same serenity now, the kind of peace one can hold in their heart when they have been content for a long, long time.

She couldn't bake as much anymore, so she took to teaching the newer florets her craft. It was rewarding to watch them grow under her watchful eye, to shake her head and sigh with mock exasperation at their antics. How silly they are!, she would mutter to her affini. Surely I wasn't like that? And oh, how her affini would chuckle and roll their shoulders in a shrug, before telling the florets about how their mentor used to skip stones on the pond out back, or how she used to shriek and play just as they did.

Her Autumn was a season of relaxation: relaxing into chairs, into baths, into the vines of her beloved. She learned the pleasure that came from watching the world around her, of being a part of it and sinking into it and through it, woven like fine threads as they slowly walked to the pavilion to watch the sunset. She gave her last steps that evening, one last dance as she rested her weary head on her affini's chest.

They held their floret's hand in the way one holds a precious treasure, in the way one holds memories and songs and laughter in their heart. Their floret had been bedridden for a long time by now, but they both knew that change would always come. Her floret smiled down at them with a serenity that felt impossible to understand, squeezing their vines with every ounce of strength they had left in their fragile bones.

The affini was asked to look in the bedside drawer, which held her last gift to them: A cookie she had baked over a century ago, held in perfect stasis, still warm from the oven the floret had pulled it out of. The affini gently broke it in half, letting them both savor the cinnamon and vanilla together. A last meal, a last memory, a last moment. A worn and wrinkled hand wrapped around the vines of someone both young and old, squeezing for the last time.

Their Winter was a season of loss: losing nights to worry, losing days to planning, losing their mind to grief. They learned anew the pain that comes with change, the trembling in their core that cried out for their floret to be pushed against it. They learned about the letter when they were cleaning their floret's room, the letter old after sitting under the pillow for years.

"To my beloved, my one, my everything,

My Life was one of sharing: sharing songs, sharing dances, sharing memories and golden dreams and little things. I learned about you, about how you gave me so, so much, more than I could ever hope to ask for and then more. You opened yourself to me, knowing you would be here after, knowing you would suffer. I cannot hope to understand the depths of your love; I only hope you knew that mine was deeper than I ever thought possible. I give you my last words, so that you can find that same serenity you gave me:

I love you more than there are stars in the sky, and I want you to remember me when you next make a treat for a new one to hold. I want you to smile your wonderful smile, the one that ensnared my heart and led me places I could only dream of before. Fill their world with cinnamon and vanilla, my love, and show them how to let go of what hurts to cling to. Let yourself make those new memories; your warmth is too special to be left alone.

My darling, my affini, my life: show them how we used to dance.

I remain, as always, Your Floret, now and forever"

[the-thorn-of-a-rose]

Man, this sci-fi reboot of The Giving Tree is weird.

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Ok so I've done some cursory looking over hdg and it seems like it would like, 99% be my thing except for the caked in assumptions regarding consent.

If benevolent plant beings showed up from space and said "We're here to free you from capitalism and also do some weird kink stuff with you if you're into that" I would not need to be mindbroken about it. I would be like "Can you maybe also do some weird body horror stuff to me please" and they'd be like "Yeah and we're also gonna keep you as a pet" and I'd say "Yippee!"

If there's like, a bunch of stories about enthusiastic consent in the setting it would become my favorite thing I think, but im not seeing any reference to stories like that so far in my research.

No, I don't know if there's any specific stories like that. There must be a couple (there's nearly 1000 stories on AO3 alone!), but I've not seen them. Any other HDG readers can recommend any?

But yeah. HDG is firmly in a dubcon hypnosis era: it's usually about subs going "no I don't want this!" and they eventually get convinced (possibly with mind control! ) that they're actually denying their feelings and they DO want this.

I can totally see why that kind of consent situation wouldn't be for everyone! But it's a bit baked into the setting, so I don't know how much HDG you'll he able to find that doesn't have it.

Best of luck, and I totally understand if you just don't enjoy HDG because of the consent issues. It's not for everyone.

For what it's worth, while I personally don't have a problem with reading the dubcon, it is a bit annoying to me, as someone who would similarly just dive into being a plant-mommy's pet. An HDG protagonist will be all "damn you freaky xenos! Stop trying to give me the body I always wanted and fixing everything about my life and trying to give me sexy plant cuddles with fun drugs!"

And I'm like... Sis, stop complaining. Embrace being a pet and enjoy. This is everything I wanted.

(I hope I don't get evicted from the HDG fandom for my heresy)

[the-thorn-of-a-rose]

the reason they are called “free terran”s is because u can just take as many as u want for free. no one can stop u, certainly not any of the terrans.

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HDG story alignment chart

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Look upon my works, ye florets, and despair.

Foghorn Legume, Second Floret

Original Affini art on the right by @promilie

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if this 5000 year old tree isn’t too old to realize that its trans neither are you

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Cis writer shocks trans girls by speaking in perfect floret

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99 percent of species quit yearning just before the affini prioritise their domestication

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🤝 yes PLEASE we could be the cutest little florets

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"my son turned out fine"

ma'm your daughter wants to be owned by a 10ft plant alien

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POV: your free trial of "independence" is about to expire

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Khetari time!

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I'm loving the influx of hdg-posting on my dash recently, keep it going girls if we all concentrate hard enough maybe we can get a psychic signal out to the Affini