#you should get into cattails

[oakshade]

cattails brainrotting fr this game is so neat and I have to wait for it to come out on switch.. crying, throwing up even (i am joking take ur time falcon team ilysm mwah)

#cattails #cattails wildwood story #warrior cats #warriors #i know it isnt warrior cats but . cmon. it basically is #if ur into warriors and not cattails #you should get into cattails #spark cattails

[snailsagere]

Please read my dni in my bio before interacting

Since everyone wanted a post like this! Here you go! :3

Computer games to play when regressed!

I'll say the name, price and I'll do a brief description and content warning for each game (if you think I should add a CW for any that I didn't put one for feel free to tell me and I'll add it)! I'll also be making another post like this for phone games! :3

🌸=personal favourites

You can get all of these games off steam!

100 hidden frogs

Description- this is a short game where you look for 100 frogs in an image!

Price- free!

CW- none! :3

🌸Alba a wildlife adventure

Description- in this game you explore and take photos of animal, there is also a main storyline where you restore an animal reserve!

Price- £13.49

CW- wild fire

Baba is you

Description- a puzzle game where you change words around to create new rules to win the levels, the puzzles can be quite tricky!

Price- £11.39

CW- none! :3

🌸Birth

Description- a puzzle game where you collect organs and bones to build a partner for yourself, I recommend this game for if you like spookier games but don't wanna play something too scary!

Price- £8.29

CW- bones and organs (not realistic ones), bugs, brief appearance of m*d!c*l equipment

Calico

Description- a game where you own a cat cafe, explore the world, complete quests and find more animals for your cafe, I recommend only playing this game if you can use a controller because it's difficult to play on keyboard!

Price- £9.29

CW- none! :3

🌸Cat cafe manager

Description- you run a cat cafe and are able to collect new cats, decorate and upgrade the cafe, this game can be a bit tricky since it is a management game!

Price- £16.75

CW- capitalism?

The cat games

Description- a game where you play different cat themed games, I'd recommend this game for if you regress to older ages since it can be a bit tricky!

Price- £1.59

CW- none! :3

Cat goes fishing

Description- you catch fish and upgrade your boat with the money you get from them, it can be a bit tricky to catch the bigger fish!

Price- £4.99

CW- deep water

Catlateral damage 1 and 2

Description- you play as a cat and have to knock things of tables and shelves to earn points, I recommend this game for if you regress to younger ages!

Price- £8.50

CW- bones, one of the levels is a mad scientist lab and has some creepy stuff

Cattails

Description- you play as a cat in a cat colony, there's a main storyline and you can have kittens, make your own colony, fight other cats, forage etc!

Price- £10.99

CW- fighting, hunting of small animals

Cloud gardens

Description- this is a post apocalyptic game where you grow plants and build apocalyptic scenes, it's quite relaxing a good game for any regressors who don't wanna play a stereotypically 'cute' game but still wanna play a relaxing and fairly simple game!

Price- £13.99

CW- post apocalyptic

Cozy grove

Description- a game where you play as a scout and help bears on an island!

Price- £11.39

CW- swearing, dark backstorys? (I haven't finished the game yet so I'm not 100% certain!)

Dorfromantik

Description- in this game you put tiles together to make a landscape, this game is a really relaxing and calm game!

Price- £10.99

CW- none! :3

Flower

Description- you play as the wind collecting flower petals, the game is quite relaxing but can be a lite it tricky!

Price- £5.89

CW- pollution is a key theme in the game

Fossil corner

Description- you make/find fossils! That's it really but it's a relaxing game!

Price- £7.19

CW- none! :3

The game of life 2

Description- it's based off the game of life boardgame! You play through the life of someone! You can play the game with AI or with friends, personally I also like playing it with my stuffies!

Price- £10.49

CW- none! :3

Haunt the house terror town

Description- you play as a little ghost and you have to haunt different locations to make all the people leave!

Price- £4.29

CW- non-graphic death

Koi farm

Description- you make different types of koi fish by breeding them to get different colours and patterns!

Price- £2.09

CW- none! :3

Kynseed

Description- you live in a medieval village and can explore, have a job, family etc, the game can be a lil creepy so I recommend this game more if you regress to older ages!

Price-£19.99

CW- can be a bit creepy

🌸Lil gator game

Description- this games adorable, you play as an alligator who's playing games with their friends! It's a bit tricky to describe the game but you're basically playing a game in a game, it's very cute!

Price- £16.75

CW- none! :3

Littlewood

Description- a game where you rebuild a town! You can get married, explore, decorate houses etc, keep in mind the game is incomplete and has been abandoned!

Price- £11.39

CW- none! :3

Mail time

Description- you play as a mail scout and hace to deliver letters to different characters!

Price- £16.75

CW- none! :3

🌸My fluffy life

Description- there are different little activities to play in the game and they change season to season, you can also buy clothes and furniture for your character! The mini games are quite easy so I recommend this if you regress to younger ages!

Price- £3.99

CW- none! :3

Paradise marsh

Description- a relaxing game where you explore a variety of weather and seasons and overall environments while collecting bugs and talking to the stars!

Price- £12.79

CW- bugs, the game is a bit ominous

Pupperazzi

Description- super cute game where you take pictures of dogs!

Price- £15.49

CW- none! :3

🌸A short hike

Description- really similar vibes to lil gator game (this game came out first) you explore a forest, make friends and climb to reach the top of a mountain!

Price- £5.79

CW- I don't really remember the contents of the phone call but once you reach the top of the mountain you have a phone call and I believe it might be upsetting

🌸Slime rancher 1 and 2

Description- a sandbox game where you collect little slimes and explore the world, you can also disable dangerous slimes to make the game easier!

Price- £14.99/£23.79

CW- none! :3

🌸Stardew valley

Description- you inherit your grandfathers farm and move to a town in stardew valley, you can farm, forage, mine, fish and form relationships with the villagers!

Price- £10.99

CW- substance abuse, mental health, family issues

🌸Sticky business

Description- you own a sticker shop and you make new stickers and ship them to customers!

Price- £8.50

CW- none! :3

Teacup

Description- you help a shy frog find everything she needs to host a tea party for her friends!

Price- £7.19

CW- none! :3

🌸Undertale

Description- you're a child who falls through a mountain where monsters have been trapped, you have to help the child leave the caverns! There are multiple endings depending on if you kill or don't kill any monsters!

Price- £6.99

CW- death of characters (it can be quite sad), most of the more upsetting content is in the route where you kill all the monsters

🌸Wobbledogs

Description- a game where you evolve dogs and look after them

Price- £15.99

CW- they do eventually die but you can turn off their deaths in the settings, the game can be a bit uncomfy and 'strange' so keep that in mind

🌸World of zoo

Description- a game where you look after animals in a zoo!

Price- £11.90

CW- zoo

#agere #age dreaming #age regression #age regressor #sfw agere #agere blog #sfw littlespace #sfw smolspace #agere games #agere activities #snailsagere

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Napoleonville [Chapter 10: The House Of Saint Honoratus of Amiens] [Series Finale]

Series Summary: The year is 1988. The town is Napoleonville, Louisiana. You are a small business owner in need of some stress relief. Aemond is a stranger with a taste for domination. But as his secrets are revealed, this casual arrangement becomes something more volatile than either of you could have ever imagined.

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), dom/sub dynamics, smoking, drinking, drugs, weddings, Willis Warning, infidelity, kids, parenthood, Rice-A-Roni.

Word Count: 6k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

Taglist: @marvelescvpe @toodlesxcuddles @era127 @at-a-rax-ia @0eessirk8 @arcielee @dd122004dd @humanpurposes @taredhunter @tinykryptonitewerewolf @partnerincrime0 @dr-aegon @persephonerinyes @namelesslosers @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @daenysx @gemini-mama @chattylurker @moonlightfoxx @huramuna @britt-mf @myspotofcraziness @padfooteyes @targaryenbarbie @trifoliumviridi @joliettes @darkenchantress @florent1s @babyblue711 @minttea07 @bungalowbear @bluerskiees @herfantasyworldd @elizarbell @urmomsgirlfriend1 @fudge13 @strangersunghoon @wickedfrsgrl

Thank you so much for loving this strange, sexy, sweet story. I hope you enjoy the finale. 🥰🧁

Your bare feet in warm grass, your hands around the ropes of the tree swing, no sounds except the ancient psalms of the earth: cicadas, mourning doves, goldfinches, bumble bees, bullfrogs, wind in the leaves of the dogwoods and southern live oaks. The adolescent alligator is at one end of the front yard, sunbathing up by the mouth of the gravel driveway; in the opposite corner are several nutria nibbling on cattails. The sky is a calm, cloudless blue. It’s hot, mid-80s, even when 5:00 p.m. comes and goes; but the breeze is cool as it evaporates the sweat from your temples, your palms, the nape of your neck. It’s as close as Louisiana ever gets to Heaven. It’s a good day for a wedding.

You remember thinking that it was the end of the world when you found out you were pregnant almost exactly eleven years ago, and then again when you realized you would have to divorce Willis, and so you have lived through enough moments like this—these quiet, infinitesimal apocalypses—to know that there will be a future beyond Aemond marrying Christabel. The sun will rise tomorrow, and then it will set, the lightning bugs will appear and the stars will tell myths in the night sky, and the phone will ring as orders come in for the bakery, and Cadi will be back in her bedroom playing her Nintendo, and life will roll on like currents through the bayou: slow, opaque, inevitable. The world isn’t ending, you know that. It’s just full of beautiful things that aren’t for you.

Out on Route 401, a Plymouth Gran Fury zooms by the house, squeals to a halt, and then reverses until Willis can take another look, squinting through his tinted windows. He turns down the driveway and steps out into golden July daylight. He doesn’t pay any attention to the gator as he strides past her. He belongs here, in a place that is old and strange and savage and full of beasts. You have carved out a home for yourself in the swamplands; Willis was born with veins like the roots of a mangrove tree and ancient silt instead of marrow in his bones.

“Hey, sugar,” he says, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair. The wind ruffles the dark curls of his mullet, the bumble bees flee as he tramples clovers. “Ain’t ya supposed to be at the weddin’?”

“I’m sick.” A lie. “But Cadi’s fine, she’s with Amir. She was so excited she actually wore one of the sundresses my mom bought her and had Amir braid a dogwood flower into her hair to match his. You should have seen it. You would’ve been so proud.”

“I’m always proud of her,” Willis says, smiling. And then: “Ya don’t look sick.”

“I am.”

“Ya got one of your headaches?”

You pause. You don’t, but this is a convenient excuse. “Yeah.”

Willis stalls, his hands on his belt. His pistol is there; you remember how he used it in the bayou, how he helped save your life. But he wasn’t the one who jumped into the water. Aemond was willing to risk his body for me, but not his soul. What kind of sense does that make? “Ya had me scared for a minute there,” Willis says.

“What? When?”

“When I thought ya were goin’ to end up with that Rockefeller boy.”

“Aemond?” you say, like it’s so shocking. “No. Absolutely not. It’s impossible.”

“And why’s that?”

You stare into the trees so Willis can’t see the tears welling up in your eyes, the tension in your throat as embers kindle there, pulsing with heat that could char flesh to the bone. “He can’t marry someone like me.”

“I could,” Willis replies, grinning. You glare at him until he recants. “Alright, alright, oublie ça. Pardonne-moi.”

“Why would you be afraid of me and Aemond being together?”

“An oil tycoon? A millionaire? He would never stay here for long. In a town like Napoleonville? Soon as he was done getting’ those rigs up and runnin’, he’d go jettin’ off to some other corner of the world, and he’d take you with him. And Cadi too. I wouldn’t be able to fight that. What’s a parish sheriff to a Targaryen? Who would listen to me? Cadi would be gone and I’d never get her back. It would kill me. It would rip the heart right outta my chest.”

You look up at Willis from where you sit on the tree swing, the soles of your feet colored with soil and grass. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“No?” he asks, perhaps suspicious, perhaps hopeful.

“No,” you promise. “Cadi loves you. Cadi needs you to be in her life. I would never try to take her away from you, Willis.”

He nods; he seems to believe you. And something relaxes in him, like there’s been a tension in the lines of his spine and shoulders that you didn’t notice for years. “I’m sorry about your petit ami.”

“Yeah. Me too.” It comes out like a whisper, brittle and frail. “I’m sorry about Lake Verret.”

“They might be able to fix it. Talk around town is they got some kind of desalination”—he says this with each syllable enunciated distinctly, like he’s put great effort into memorizing it—“process that can take the salt back outta the water. And if that don’t work…” He shrugs with a sly smile. “I’ll survive somehow. The world’s a big place. There’s always another lake.”

You consider him, and you remember—like a dream from the night before that just returned to you—how Willis can be unexpectedly deep, randomly tender. “They should put that on bumper stickers.”

He chuckles and waves as he heads back to his car. “I’ll pick Cadi up on Tuesday. Back to the usual schedule.”

“Sure.” Back to real life. Back to before I met Aemond. And you find yourself wishing that you could forget what it had felt like to be with him; the absence he left feels so much heavier than the nonspecific longing that existed before. Willis’ Plymouth Gran Fury rolls out of the driveway, and you stay precisely where you are on the tree swing, absentmindedly pushing yourself back and forth with your tiptoes and trying to believe that tomorrow this will feel easier, and then even easier the day after that, and eventually it will cease to be anything but a vague recollection, a relic in a rarely-opened drawer, a whisper, an echo. One day, you will stop missing Aemond. One day, you will stop wondering whether a sliver of his life would have been better than none at all.

Inside what Cadi calls the Fall-Down House, the phone rings. You ignore it; if it’s an order for the bakery, they can leave a message. But then it rings again, and again, and you have to answer it. What if your mother had a heart attack? What if Cadi and Amir were in a car accident? You hurry to the kitchen and grab the phone, pink to match the little Panasonic boombox that is presently silent.

“Hello?”

“Hiiiiiii,” Amir says, slow and something else too. Disoriented? Evasive?

Your forehead wrinkles with confusion. “Where are you calling from?” There are definitely no phonelines running to the Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens, a tiny brick-and-stucco edifice built in the 1830s.

“I’m at a McDonald’s up the road. I’ve paid them $5 to let me use the phone.” And then, because he knows it’s the first place your mind will go: “Cadi’s fine. She’s eating Chicken McNuggets. Everyone’s fine.”

“Okay…?”

“I think you should come over here.”

“What, to the chapel?!”

“Yeah.” He’s talking to someone; you can hear an indistinct tangle of voices through the hand he undoubtedly has clasped over the transmitter.

I can’t see Aemond. I can’t see Christabel. There is a lurching in your guts; you are a fish that swallowed a hook. “I thought we agreed that I wasn’t going to go to the wedding.” I can’t handle it. It might kill me.

“Yes, we did, but now…um…I think you will want to make an appearance.”

“Amir, what happened?”

There is more muffled conversation on the other end of the line. “Look,” he tells you. “Things, uh…things are…occurring. And I think it would be better to explain in person.”

“Did you drop the cake?”

“No,” he says, defensive. “The cake is perfect, thank you for your concern. Not a single frosting wildflower was mutilated in the delivery.”

“Then why—?”

“Do you trust me?” Amir asks.

The answer is obvious. Of course. More than anyone. “You know I do.”

“Then go get in your car.”

You glance at the clock on the wall. “Okay, but you know it’s going to take me like 40 minutes to drive to Belle River.”

“That’s fine.” He confers with someone else. “Yeah, that’s good actually, that will work.”

“Great,” you say uncertainly.

“See you soon!” Then Amir hangs up, leaving you alone in the creaks and groans of your ailing house.

You take Route 70 around Lake Verret, gliding past fields of soybeans and sugarcane, paddocks of cattle and horses, marshes of cordgrass occupied by blue herons and white egrets and prowling alligators, stirring awake as the sun begins its descent into the west. More than once, you notice that your Chevy Celebrity’s odometer reports you are travelling well below the speed limit. You aren’t in any hurry to reach the chapel; you don’t want to carry the weight of what you will see there, Christabel in her wedding dress, Aemond in his suit, Alicent anxiously fidgeting and gnawing at her fingernails, Viserys parading around triumphantly. You can’t imagine that there is anything less than torturous for you there. You don’t remember what you’re wearing until you reach Belle River, a small, old town full of double-wide trailers and jetties that run far out into the lake: a simple cotton sundress you threw on this morning without much thought, modest but white and therefore forbidden for a wedding guest. The sky is turning from a sun-drenched cerulean blue to something more soft, more muted, as dusk lurks just a few hours away. The radio is playing Tracy Chapman’s Fast Car.

The Chapel of Saint Honoratus of Amiens was built by a man in extremis. An acclaimed mason by trade, he had been born in France and settled in the New World in Louisiana when it was still in the possession of Napoleon. The mason had a wife and children—some people say 5, others say 8 or 10, though details always seem to grow more elaborate in the retelling, don’t they?—and he loved them dearly. But tragedy struck when every single member of the family, except for the mason himself, fell ill with tuberculosis. When healers of the earth failed to offer sufficient remedies, the mason appealed to a higher power. He built the chapel to implore Honoratus of Amiens, his wife’s favorite saint—she was a baker and a florist, both professions that Honoratus presides over—to intercede with the Almighty on their behalf. This effort proved futile, and as each member of the family died, the mason interred them in a brick vault beneath the altar where they would spend eternity together. Perhaps this makes for a peculiar wedding venue, yet for over a century couples rich and poor, religious and secular have traveled to the chapel to exchange their vows. Perhaps there are few things more romantic than loving someone in the face of total futility: illness, distance, unrequitedness, prohibitions, death.

The chapel sits in a clearing surrounded by live oak trees, massive, hundreds of years old, hanging with Spanish moss, blotting out the sunlight as aisles cascade through gaps in the leaves. As you park in the grass—joining an army of Lexuses, Audis, limousines, Porsches, Ferraris, Cadillacs, Aston Martins, Alfa Romeos, and Amir’s blue Ford Escort—you observe that there are perhaps fifty guests in formal attire milling aimlessly around the building. You peer down at your white sundress, frowning. Well, I can’t go naked. The faux pas will have to be forgiven. You step out of your Chevy Celebrity and make your way across the clearing towards the chapel.

There is a long table set up in the shade with a tower of champagne glasses, an ice sculpture of a dragon, and the banana bread cake you and Amir baked for the wedding. Grim-faced servants in black suits are cutting slices and handing them out to guests on green china plates. You recognize Aegon’s wife Stephanie chatting with a flock of young women in extravagant gowns, golds and emeralds and sapphires. Helaena is among them, wearing a shimmering blue-green color like the scales of her chameleon Dreamfyre. Evidently, the Targaryens’ exotic pets have been left at the mansion for this excursion.

“Well,” the princess of Monaco says sardonically as she takes a bite, the white cream cheese frosting covered with a kaleidoscope of wildflowers. “At least the cake is good. What is this, banana? Whoever heard of a banana wedding cake? I mean, it’s delicious, but still. I knew that Christabel girl was daft. Did you see her positively absurd dress? It looks like children doodled all over it…”

Is it over? you think as you weave through the crowd, largely unnoticed. Is the ceremony done already? Why would Aemond want to see me? To try to convince me to be his mistress one last time? To show me what I’m missing by severing ties with him?

But no: something else has happened. Viserys and Christabel’s father the marquess are embroiled in a heated argument; a nun and two priests are trying to haul them apart.

“You’re dead to me, Viserys!” the marquess roars. “And you’ll be dead to everyone back home once I tell them what you’ve done!”

“I did my part! This has nothing to do with me! Wait…wait…we can figure something else out! Wait! Wait! You can have Daeron!”

Wedding guests are gawking and snapping photos with their polaroid cameras. Upon hearing his name, Daeron glances over towards his father wearily. Alicent’s youngest son is kneeling beside where she has collapsed to the grass, patting her encouragingly on the shoulder as she sobs into a green cloth handkerchief. Criston is there too, trying to soothe her with sympathetic murmurs and a flute of pink champagne glittering with bubbles of carbonation.

“How did this happen?” she wails, peering up at Criston with her vast, dark, glassy eyes. The gold rings on her fingers clang and glint; they match the single hoop earring that Criston wears. Alicent’s gown is purple like royalty, but Criston is dressed in a suit of pale pink; it’s the exact same one Daeron has on. Groomsmen? you wonder. “He knows better than this! We raised him better than this!”

You think, stunned and petrified: Aemond, what the hell did you do?

As you approach the chapel, you note that it appears empty inside; you don’t spot anyone in the pews. Somewhere, a boombox is thundering Higher Love. At the entrance of the building, Christabel is sitting on the brick walkway in her wedding dress. It’s the one you told her to choose: elegant and timeless, long train and short flowing sleeves, silk wildflowers sewn into the white lace. Her bouquet is lying forgotten on the ground beside her. Her lips are a deep, lovely pink; her eyeshadow is gold. She’s smoking, something you’ve never seen her do before. There is a half-crumpled pack of Marlboro Reds and a lighter in her left hand, a single lit cigarette in her right.

“Um, hi, Christabel,” you say. And then, something equally brainless: “Is everything okay?”

“I should have known.” She’s staring out at the crowd, not at you. Her large blue eyes are dull, vacant.

“You should have known what?” Your heart is in your throat; blood pounds in your ears like the hooves of a racehorse.

“That he didn’t care,” she says listlessly. “I could tell that he didn’t. I could feel it. But I didn’t want it to be true, so I told myself it wasn’t. Isn’t that interesting? How we can lie to ourselves? Not that it was entirely my error. Other people meddled plenty. ‘Oh no, Christabel.’ ‘He’s just emotionally stunted, Christabel.’ ‘He’s busy with work, Christabel.’ What man is too busy with work to handle a five-minute phone call? It’s not like he was on the moon. He could have made time if he wanted to. I bet he made lots of time for you.”

“Uh.” You try to decide what to say. “I broke up with him, if that’s what you’re asking. I didn’t want to be his mistress. I didn’t think that was fair to you.” Or me, obviously, but right now doesn’t seem to be the opportune time to voice my own grievances.

“Next time, I’m going to choose who I marry,” Christabel insists, puffing on her cigarette. “He has to talk to me. He has to like me.”

Aemond called it off? What did he say? What is he going to do now? “Christabel…do you know where Aemond is? Or Amir and Cadi?”

“Alicent is so upset,” she says instead. “Poor woman. She’s sweet, in her own way. But I don’t want to end up like her.” Christabel holds up the pack of Marlboros and the lighter. “She feels guilty, I think. She gave me these. She had them in her purse, she has so many neurotic little habits, doesn’t she? It’s not very ladylike to smoke, but it’s not ladylike to get left at the altar either, so fuck it.”

You ask, afraid to know the answer: “Do you hate me? I didn’t know Aemond was engaged when I met him. And then…” Why lie now? What’s the point? “Then I was in love with him and it was kind of…too late to try not to be. But I’m sorry.”

“I don’t hate you,” Christabel replies immediately. “I know he would never be allowed to marry…someone like you. Your options were limited.”

You don’t know if this is meant to be an insult or not. “Thanks.”

“I don’t think I ever loved him either,” Christabel realizes, exhaling smoke. “I think I idolized him. I think I loved my fantasy of what our marriage would be like. But I didn’t love Aemond. I didn’t even know Aemond. You did, I suspect. Good luck with him. He’s a bit…complex.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, rather compulsively. You aren’t sure what she expects from you. Abruptly, from wherever it’s coming from, Higher Love is cut off. “So, is Aemond, like…around, or…?”

“I don’t regret the sex part.”

“Okay.” You examine the crowd in the clearing again. You still don’t see Aemond.

“That went well,” Christabel muses. “I’m glad my first time is over and done with. I was terrified it would hurt like hell. And so few people know, so it’s almost like it never happened, right?”

“Right,” you say obediently.

“I think I’ll have a new rule. I won’t marry anyone unless he likes me and we sleep together first. Life is too long to spend it with the wrong person, don’t you agree?”

“I totally do.”

“He’s waiting for you inside,” Christabel says, flicking ashes towards the gaping doorway of the chapel.

“Really?” you peer into the shadows; there is indeed a solitary figure standing at the altar. “So…what exactly is happening…?”

“Go,” Christabel urges, and takes a drag on her cigarette. You leave her and cross through the doorway into the chapel.

The light is dim and gentle; fading sunbeams slant in through the glass of the cathedral-style windows. The mason’s inspiration was Gothic architecture, imposing, cavernous. Two candlelit iron chandeliers hang from the high ceiling; the floor is made of tiles of black and white marble. Small stone sculptures of angels watch over their realm like benevolent gargoyles. There is a single stained glass window above the altar: circular like a ring, red and gold like the sun.

He’s waiting for you in a pale pink suit, long disheveled hair, thin mustache with flecks of white powder in it, mischievous smirk. “Hey cake lady,” Aegon says.

“Um. I’m not marrying you.”

“No, you’re definitely not.” Aegon offers you his hand and you take it with some hesitation. “I’m here to be your guide. Just like on the Oregon Trail.”

“What…?”

“Let’s go.” He pulls you out of the chapel, past where Christabel is still sitting at the entranceway, and across the clearing towards the trees. When you look to the crowd, Otto is elbowing his way through disgruntled guests towards a limousine, already idling.

Viserys bellows at him: “Where the hell are you going?!”

“Back to Kiribati!” Otto shouts back, not breaking his stride. He vanishes into the limo.

“Hurry,” Aegon says. He leads you into the forest, a thick canopy of verdant leaves and Spanish moss and the narrow rays of sunshine that tumble down through the gaps.

“Aegon, I don’t think we should be in the woods, it could be dangerous—”

“No, this part is fine. We already checked.”

“Who’s ‘we’?!” You’re wearing flip flops that catch on gnarled roots; the shrieking of cicadas grows loud. One of them buzzes towards Aegon and he screams as he backhands it away.

“You good?” Amir’s voice calls from farther within the trees.

“Yeah. I’m fine. We made it.”

You turn to Aegon. “What’s going on—?”

Suddenly, there is booming music that startles you: “Ooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth? Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth! They say in Heaven, love comes first, we’ll make Heaven a place on Earth! Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth!”

“Aegon, what is that?”

“Uh, I think it’s Heaven Is A Place On Earth.”

“Yes, okay, but why?”

“Ask that guy.” You round a thicket and there under a colossal southern live oak tree, surrounded by hundred-year-old branches that twist down to the earth, is Aemond; but he’s not looking at you. He and Cadi are lighting the last of the candles. She picks them up, he ignites the wick with the same lighter he uses to smoke his Marlboros, and then Cadi places them back on the ground or on top of a branch. Amir is standing by the large black boombox, the same one Aegon always listens to by the Targaryens’ pool. Amir grins craftily, pushing his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose. His suit is orange, the single dogwood flower in his hair white.

“Did we get them all?” Aemond asks Cadi.

“Yeah, I think so. Wait, no, there’s one over there!” Cadi darts to it and Aemond lights the candle, then spins around and sees you. He smiles. “Hi, Cupcake.”

“Hi,” you say, so shellshocked you can’t form any of your very vital questions.

“Okay, so we have the candles,” Aemond informs you as Cadi and Aegon go to join Amir. “White with wildflower patterns.” And you recall how Alicent mentioned needing to pick out candles with Christabel, and how you didn’t see any scattered around the chapel. They brought them here. They did it for me. “And we have some actual wildflowers.” He takes the boutonniere off the lapel of his white suit and tucks it into your hair behind your left ear. “And we have Heaven Is A Place On Earth.” He gestures to the boombox. “And I think those were the three things you said you wanted if you were ever going to get married again.”

I did say that. Just once, months ago, the first time he ever came over, the first time he ever touched me. “You remembered.”

“Of course I remembered.” He takes both of your hands in his own. Amir lets out a little squeal and covers his mouth as his eyes begin to glisten. Aemond takes a deep breath. “So, I don’t have a speech, because this is very last-minute. I mean extremely last-minute. But you were right about everything. And I realized I couldn’t live that way. It wouldn’t be fair to you or to me, but it wouldn’t be fair to Christabel either. So I broke it off.”

“Literally at the altar,” Aegon says. “In front of everybody. It was so fucking awkward.”

“Those are not necessary details!” Aemond snaps, then looks back to you and is smiling again. “I know what I want. I’ve known it for as long as I’ve known you. But I wasn’t a strong enough person to make it happen. I’m so sorry. I should have done things differently. I can’t change the past. But everything is going to be different now.”

You gaze up at him as Belinda Carlisle sings, thinking: This can’t be real. I’m going to wake up now.

“On the night we met, you told me you’d never felt chosen,” Aemond says. “I’m choosing you. And, you know.” He nods to her. “Cadi too. And Amir. And the bakery. And dealing with Willis too, I guess. All of it. I’m choosing you and your whole life and that’s exactly where I want to be.”

You can feel the warmth in your face, beaming and hopeful and full of possibilities. Under the shade of the southern live oak, the first lightning bugs are blooming in the air like stars. “What about your family?”

“I’ll figure it out. I don’t think my father can entirely disown me…turns out I’m the only one who understands how the stock market works. But no matter what, you and Cadi are the priority. And my father will have to learn to live with that.”

“Or he can drop dead,” Aegon says. “Whichever.”

It’s possible? We can be together? Not just for a night, an afternoon, a stolen moment, but forever?

“I said I don’t have a speech.” Aemond tells you. His right eye is bright, elated, gleaming like a mirror. “I don’t have a ring either. But I’m going to get you one, if you’ll let me. So I’m asking you, Cupcake: Will you marry me?”

“Say yes, Mom!” Cadi yells, and Amir bursts out laughing.

“Say yes, cake lady!” Aegon adds. “Unlimited Cap’n Crunch Treats!”

When am I going to wake up? When is this going to end?

But it’s not a dream. It’s real. And Aemond reads the answer on your face before you can say it, and so it’s only a murmur as he kisses you, a whisper, a prayer: “Yes.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The three of you drive from the new house all the way to San Francisco; you still call it the new house, even though you’ve owned it for a full year. The journey takes seven days, with overnight stops in Dallas, Wonderland Amusement Park in Amarillo, Albuquerque, Flagstaff, Las Vegas, and Bakersfield. Aemond sold his Audi Quattro and replaced it with a Dodge Caravan. It’s July 1989, and Tom Petty’s brand new single Runnin’ Down A Dream is strumming from the radio. It’s always temperate in San Fran, in the 60s even at the height of summer. The sky is overcast and grey. When Cadi complains that she’s cold despite the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles hoodie you packed for her, Aemond gives her his Marlboro jacket.

Amir, his boyfriend, and two other roommates share a sunshine yellow Italianate townhouse in the Castro District. Aemond parks his wood-paneled Caravan on the steep, inclined street—he narrowly misses colliding with a whooshing cable car, which he blames on poor depth perception—and then helps you carry the luggage inside. There are no alligators on the front porch, but there are neighborhood cats that Amir puts out Friskies for; there are no screaming cicadas, but there are swooping seagulls and the melodies of sidewalk musicians. When Amir opens the door, he nearly tackles you with enthusiasm. He still wears his loud colors and short shorts, but he’s traded in the dogwood flowers he once wove into his hair for dahlias.

Amir’s boyfriend is named Don, but everyone calls him Donald Schwarzenegger because he looks so much like the Austrian bodybuilder turned actor. When Amir first arrived in the city, he got a job as a cake decorator for a very popular bakery, and quickly segued into handling much of their marketing as well. He’s thinking of getting a degree in advertising and trying his luck in corporate America. You very much enjoy teasing him for being a sellout; what would socialist Bayard Rustin say?

“Call your Daddy and let him know we made it safely to the West Coast,” you tell Cadi once her things are unpacked in the guest room she’ll get all to herself; you and Aemond are consigned to the living room futon. Cadi chats with Willis for a while, then says he wants to talk to you. You take the phone, slightly concerned; you hope nothing is amiss with the house. “Hello?”

“What the hell is wrong with this horse?” he demands. “That ain’t no pet. That’s a demon. It’s a goddamn Rougarou.”

“I told you not to try to touch him,” you say, amused.

“I feed him and water him, don’t I? Ain’t that the least he can do? Lettin’ me scratch his big ol’ idiot head?”

“Patches is not very well-behaved. But Cadi loves him.”

“And don’t even get me started on the dog. Ugliest fuckin’ dog I ever saw. Growls every time I show up. Shows its teeth and everythin’. I’d take twenty gators over that son of a bitch any day.”

“Vhagar is a girl,” you say. “Thanks for watching them while we’re out of town.”

“Sure thing, sugar. Although I still don’t understand why the bon a rien can’t do it.”

“Aegon isn’t always…reliable.” But he does seem to be improving. He’s cut back to mostly just booze and marijuana, because otherwise he and Sunfyre aren't allowed to stay at the new house for sleepovers. There’s a guest bedroom, but Aegon prefers the sunken conversation pit in the mauve pink living room. He likes to be where anyone can stumble across him if they wake up in the middle of the night for pancakes or ice cream. He likes to be where people are; he likes to be included. “Anyway, I gotta go. Cadi will call again tomorrow. Enjoy your fishing.”

“Will do. Maybe I’ll toss your accursed animals in as bait.” Lake Verret is still a bit too brackish for a proper freshwater lake, but that’s changing gradually with Daeron’s desalination efforts and a subaquatic plug affixed to the opening of the breached salt dome. He views it as a pioneering experiment in reversing such drilling accidents, potentially for application globally. Now there are more bass and lampreys and catfish, and less breams and gars, but life goes on in Napoleonville’s 14,000-acre lake. Daeron has replaced Aemond as Viserys’ heir apparent, and he is thriving in the role. He is bookish yet empathetic, focused but never ruthless. Furthermore, he happens to be genuinely in love with his aristocratic fiancée: Princess Alexandra of Denmark.

Aemond was right; Viserys didn’t disown him, but he did fire him, ban him from the mansion, and reduce his available funds to a modest living stipend. Fortunately, Viserys has a very limited comprehension of how money works for normal people, and he considers $200,000 per year to be “modest.” With that plus your bakery earnings and a paid-off house, you, Cadi, and Aemond will be living comfortably for the remainder of your lives. Also fortunately, no one else will enforce the no-Aemond rule at The Last Desire, so anytime Viserys is out of town—which is far more often than not—you get to visit the Targaryens at the mansion as much as you please. Cadi loves the water slide and the koi pond. She’s named the fish after Greek deities, her latest obsession: Zeus, Narcissus, Athena, Dionysus, Artemis, Apollo, Echo. Viserys will not acknowledge you, but the rest of the family is polite enough now that the drama of the broken engagement has blown over. When you finish the cookbook of Southern baked goods that you’ve been working on, Alicent had pledged to mail copies to all her friends and relatives back in the U.K. Otto has offered to take a box of them with him next time he jets off for Kiribati; the wealthy housewives marooned in paradise are always on the hunt for new reading material.

On your first night in San Francisco, Amir serves a dinner of cioppino, sourdough bread, and (not homemade) Rice-A-Roni. You provide dessert, a recipe you’re still perfecting: Saint Honoratus cake, a pastry that dates back to Paris in the 1800s. You want to be able to include it in your cookbook, along with photographs from your wedding in the chapel this past May, almost exactly a year from when you and Aemond first met. Your engagement ring has a gold band and pink diamonds arranged to resemble a rockrose, a dauntless little wildflower native to Aemond’s ancestral homeland of Greece. For over a decade you have loved that wildflowers are grown and not bought, small but tenacious, humble yet untamed. They do not wait for other hands to tell them where and how to grow. They are the architects of their own fortune.

When everyone is finished with dessert and gathers around the tv to watch The Golden Girls, Aemond says he’s going outside for a smoke break; but you know he’s trying to quit. You follow him into the small backyard and as soon as your bare feet touch the grass, he’s pushed you against the wall of the house, forced your thighs apart, slipped his hand down the front of your shorts as he watches the amazed, electrified desire rise in your face like heat from a stove. “It’s been a week, and I need you,” Aemond murmurs, his lips ghosting across your throat, his hips braced insistently against yours, and then he kisses you to stifle your moans as you bury your fingers in his hair, to swallow down the vicarious ecstasy of every wondrous thing he’s ever done to you and ever will. “I don’t even need you to get me off. I just need to see you like this.”

Trusting him, wanting him, letting him make me come.

Aemond has been accepted into UC Berkeley’s History PhD program and will start there at the end of August. He wants to write books about underrecognized heroes, extraordinary and yet unassuming people like Bayard Rustin and Bobbi Campbell and Phillis Wheatley. You’ll miss him of course, but there will be breaks for holidays and summers when he can return to Napoleonville, and you can fly out to visit him too, and there are phone calls, and postcards, and one day you’ll be able to go anywhere together—

You gasp, a shaky, starving breath, your lips grinning into Aemond’s. You’re close, you’re so close.

There is a shrill whistle from the back porch of a townhouse from the row behind Amir’s. “Get it, honey!” a man in a leopard-print robe cheers, waving the newspaper he’d been reading. You and Aemond unravel from each other, laughing hysterically.

“Okay,” you tell him, still panting. “Bad plan. We are clearly not accustomed to city life.”

“Tonight,” Aemond says, low and commanding. He returns to you, kissing the side of your face: temple, cheekbone, the curve of your jaw. His voice is dark, jagged glass; his lips are soft like kind dreams. “On the futon, on the floor, anywhere.”

You want it too, but you know the game. “No.”

He pins you to the wall again, powerful, irresistible, his hardness grinding against you through his jeans, everything about him—voice, flesh, rhythm, soul—promising you the peace only he has ever given you, proving that being at the right person’s mercy can make you free. “I’m in charge now. Let me take care of you.” And for a split second you almost beg: Just do it, Aemond, right now, please touch me again, I don’t care if a stranger sees. I want you now, I want you forever.

Instead you smile up at him, the whirls of your fingerprints skating harmlessly over his scarred left cheek as you answer: “Yes sir.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond

[xnoctifers-eveningx]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼 Wild Plant Lore 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼

Some notes from my BOS of weeds / local plants that can be used in one's craft. Includes magickal correspondences, traditional uses (medicinal and culinary), and some of their folklore.

Disclaimer at the end !!

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Acorns- the nuts of oak trees. They're made of one seed covered by a tough shell with a cap on top. These nuts can be eaten and are turned into flour to make breads and pastas. Much about acorns are unknown as they are mainly unused in everyday life, but we do know that they contain a high fiber content which has been used to treat bloating, diarrhea, stomach pains, and other digestive issues. Because these nuts come from oak trees they’ve been a symbol of great wisdom and longevity in many cultures such as Celtic and Nordic. Many people have worn necklaces with acorn charms on them to bring protection

• Protection, prosperity, growth, wisdom 

Bull nettle- Thick stock and toothed leaves with stiff prickly stinging hairs, the flowers are small, white, and covered in hispid. The seed pods are lightly coloured and cylindrical, containing ~3 seeds. Touching this plant will cause a stinging, burning, or itching sensation that will last for hours. The seeds from the seed pods are edible and taste nutty but need to be harvested with extreme care as to not sting yourself. The seeds can be roasted or ground into a "cornmeal." The root of bull nettle is edible, it's similar to a potato but tougher and the core is so tough it should be discarded.

Binding, banishing, warding, baneful (to cause pain)

Cattails- Cattails are semi-aquatic plants that consist of multiple long spiked leaves with one center spike holding a sausage-shaped head that is filled with cottony seeds. Their rhizomes can be turned into a flour with a high protein content and the shoots can be cooked and eaten. The stems and leaves can be turned into paper. A poultice from the roots can be used as an antiseptic, for burns/cuts, and to reduce inflammation. When harvesting this plant please do not overharvest, it’s a very important part of a wetland’s ecosystem ! Also, always make sure the water near the cattails is clean because cattails filter pollutants out of the water so if you plan on consuming the plant, you could also be consuming those pollutants. 

Fertility, growth, prosperity, peace, water-associated magick, cleansing

Catchweed- Also known as cleavers, hitchhikers, goosegrass, or sticky weed. Catchweeds are branchy, square stems that latch onto other plants and buildings with small hooked hairs on their leaves and stems. They have tiny, star-shaped, green or white-ish flowers with four petals. They also have small burrs that contain a few seeds that are covered in hooked hairs so they can latch on to animals to disperse seeds. For those who want to risk getting pricked, catchweed is edible. Young leaves and stems can be cooked and eaten like spinach. This plant is also in the same family as coffee, meaning that you can dry and roast the seeds in their burrs to make a lower-caffeine coffee substitute and teas. Poultices have been made with the whole plant, as with tea washes from dried leaves, in many cultures for light burns, small wounds, and eczema. It has a cooling effect so it’s also used in infusions for bug bites, stings, and poison ivy. 

Energy, binding, commitment, protection during travel 

Chickweed- Also called chickenwort/weed, winterweed, and simply ground cover as that’s its primary use in modern society. Long stems with pointed, oval-shaped leaves and tiny white star-shaped flowers that resemble carnations. Its star-shaped flowers earned it the botanical name “Stellaria media”. Its flowers and leaves are both edible and are very popular in salads, soups, and stir-fries. It has a taste similar to sprouts that you’d use in a salad. Chickweed salves are used for skincare, poultices for poison ivy, and teas for digestion. Historically, it's been used for skin ailments like itching, dry skin, and even bruises or bug bites from a tisane/tea of the stems applied to the affected area. In European folklore, it was said to help promote a happy, balanced family and love life. This is believed to come from how chickweed grows so closely with all its stems intertwined but in a way that promotes each part to grow healthy, so it promotes everyone in a household getting along with one another while having their own sense of individuality. It’s also associated with perseverance (like most weeds I’ll admit), this is because chickweed is seen growing everywhere, in yards, in forests, on piles of dirt. If it sees an opportunity, it’ll take it and thrive year-round. 

Love, stability, loyalty, communication, lunar-associated magick 

Clovers- white, balled flowers with three to four small, round leaves. Every part of this plant is edible, the leaves and flowers are sweet and vanilla-y so they are good in teas and sweets. Clover has been used to ward off fevers and used in tisanes/teas for inflammation. Clover has been associated with good fortune for centuries, especially four-leaved clovers. A shamrock is a symbol of a three-leafed clover representative of the Christian Holy Trinity, it’s also believed that the Celtic druids thought shamrocks to be significant because they had three leaves possibly representing the underground, earth, and sky. 

Luck, prosperity, happiness, faith

Creeping Speedwell- Teeny tiny violet/baby blue flowers with light yellow middles, it is incredibly fast-growing and can be found in most yards. Speedwell is edible and good in salads, pestos, and smoothies. Tea is made from the leaves and flowers to help clear congestion, allergies, and coughs. Some add it to their baths to help with their allergies and inflammation, inflammation is also helped by a poultice. In some folklore, it’s said that a tea or ointment from speedwell could help one with psychic visions and faerie sight. Before I truly knew the folklore behind speedwell I had this sense that it would help with your clairsenses. 

Abundance, divination, psychic/clairsense work

Creeping buttercup- Buttercups are toxic and will leave blisters when raw so they must be cooked or dried before being consumed, even then it's not recommended to eat. A poultice of the (boiled) leaves is used for inflammation and wounds and a tea from the plant is used for its analgesic properties, but be wary of the blisters that may occur. Buttercups used to be used to ward off faeries, many farmers would plant these around their cows to prevent them from being stolen from the fae. There are a lot of stories relating buttercups to cows which is very very cute but ironic because buttercups are actually toxic to many animals! For its many associations with children, fairies, and coyotes across various cultures it can also be related to mischief  

Youth, happiness, love, protection from fae, mischief (jinxes/hexes/glamours) 

Creeping charlie- Also known as ground ivy. Creeping charlie has square stems with dark, rounded or fan-shaped, toothed leaves. It has small blue or lavender, funnel-shaped flowers that grow in clusters of two or three in the spring. Creeping charlie is edible and has a long history of being used in beer and cheese, it tastes subtly minty as it's in the mint family. Young leaves are good in salads to freshen them up and it's also really good in teas and sweets. There is a risk of it being toxic if consumed in large quantities though. For centuries now it's been used in teas to calm a cough, been said to help with headaches, and has been used on the skin to reduce pain and soothe inflammation. Some have turned it into a snuff and used it for congestion, kind of like Vaporub. It was actually brought over from Britain to the Americas for its medicinal uses, now it’s one of those weeds people will spend tons of money trying to get rid of. Alike creeping buttercup, it’s said that some may have used this to ward magick from their livestock and themselves. Some say it’s good to use to find out who has cursed you or sent the evil eye your way and in some stories, people would drink it as a tea to get rid of their shyness. 

Protection from magick and spirits, divination, clarity, courage

Deadnettle- My favourite weed :) Square stem, fuzzy leaves that occasionally are red/purple at the top, with tiny tube-shaped light pink flowers. Despite technically being a nettle, it’s not a true nettle so very few people will have a reaction when touching this plant. Deadnettle is part of the mint family and every part of it is edible, despite that though it's not very minty and is floral and sweet. My favourite parts are the tiny pink flowers which have sweet nectar in them and are good in teas, syrups, sweets, and jams. The leaves are good in teas, smoothies, pestos, and salads. A poultice or salve can be made from the leaves for wounds and teas can help with allergies. This plant is sometimes called purple archangel because it pops up around the Feast of the Apparition when it was said St. Micheal appeared. It’s associated with determination because this lil dude will grow anywhere, even in spots with the worst quality soil. 

happiness, determination, peace, healing

Dandelion- Dandelions are bright layered yellow flowers with toothed leaves that grow pretty much anywhere there is enough dirt to get their roots in. The entire plant is edible, the flowers are slightly sweet making them good for salads, syrups, and sweet. The leaves are slightly bitter but that can be lessened when harvested young or boiled, they're good as spinach replacements and can be dried for teas. The flowers can also be turned into dyes. The plant's name can be literally translated to 'healing herb' as it has been used in many cultures for it's gut health and detoxifying properties. Teas and tinctures from leaves are made for a diuretic and flowers are made into salves or beauty products to treat acne/eczema and to reduce inflammation. About dandelions being diuretics - the name dandelion comes from the french name dentdelion (tooth of the lion) but there’s actually a second French name, “pissenlit”, which means piss the bed !!

luck/wishes, communication, balance, courage, youth

Daisy- Daisies are low-growing flowers with thin, long, white petals and yellow disc florets (middles). Common daisies are edible, these are really found growing anywhere even in your lawn. Leaves can be used in salads or stir-fries and flower heads can be pickled or used in salads. Wines, soups, and teas are also commonly made from daisies. The flowers have a slightly bitter taste but look pretty in dishes. Daisies have been used in teas for coughs, bronchitis, and common colds. It's also been used to "stimulate the digestive system" to promote appetite. Daisies have been into lotions and other skincare products to treat rashes, eczema, and other skin issues. Daisies came to be associated with love and motherhood through it being the flower of Freya, innocence/purity through the story of Vertumnus and Belides where the flower gets its scientific name, and purity the popular phrases like “fresh/clean as daisies”.

Happiness, cleansing, love, purity (cleansing), motherhood/childbirth

Feverfew- Feverfew are daisy-like flowers with bright yellow middles and white petals, with yellow-green leaves in a feathered arrangement, that grow in small bushes together. Feverfew is edible but many will steer clear of it as it has a very bitter taste. It’s often made into teas and used in pastries. Although feverfew isn’t used to reduce fevers anymore, there are still many health benefits and medicinal uses of the plant, some people even calling it ‘medieval aspirin’. People will take feverfew pills or apply a poultice to relieve pain from arthritis and inflammation. A poultice can also be applied to minor cuts, scrapes, and bug bites. Teas can be made for headaches and some use it to help with menstrual pain. Feverfew is also known to show some skin benefits by reducing redness and inflammation. Feverfew may increase bleeding as it acts similar to an anticoagulant, because of this it is advised that if you are taking a blood thinner like aspirin, Dabigatran (Pradaxa), Heparin (Innohep), or others, you talk to your doctor before taking feverfew. This plant has more medicinal uses than references in mythology but I did find a few references to it being believed to be able to save the life of someone that had fallen from the Parthenon, a temple to Athena, which gave it the scientific name parthenium.

Healing, curse-breaking, love

Lesser celandine- Also known as pilewort or sometimes fig buttercup. Pilewort is a plant on the buttercup family that has dark, heart-shaped leaves and bright yellow flowers with glossy petals. Despite its pretty exterior, touching the plant could cause rashes or blistering especially when the plant is crushed. Ingesting the plant can cause dizziness, vomiting, and worse. While there may be ways to cook out the toxins, I cannot advise anyone to consume this plant without proper experience. This plant is also known as the spring messenger as it's one of the first plants to bloom in the spring. Lesser celandine was referenced a lot in literature, most being about love and foreshadowing happiness alike how it signals spring. 

Joy, love, Spring associated magick

Maple seed pods- Maple seeds, also known as helicopters or samaras, are the seed of maple trees, as one would assume. These are winged pods consisting of a papery tissue surrounding a single seed that is usually joined together in pairs of two. The seeds are edible once the outer covering has been removed and taste better while young, becoming bitter as they mature. Some say that smaller pods taste sweeter and larger ones taste more bitter. They're good in roasts, stir-fries, and salads. They can also be dried and pounded into flour ! Much of what we know about maple seeds are simply culinary and there's not much information on their medicinal uses. The majority of the correspondences of maple seed pods come from maple trees which represent balance and longevity. They also are associated with childhood after the many many years of children playing with these helicopter-like seeds. 

Longevity, growth, balance, youth

Mulberries- Mulberries come in three different colours which are red, white, and black. Different mulberries grow on different mulberry trees. Black mulberry trees have an orange-y-toned bark with toothed, heart-shaped leaves. White/red mulberry trees have a greyish bark with large, deeply lobed, oval-shaped leaves. Mulberries look very similar to blackberries but longer with each cluster of fruit containing a seed. Mulberries are edible, black ones taste the best and can be both sour and sweet and the white/red ones are duller in flavour but sweet. These are made into jams, syrups, wines, sweets, sorbets, really anything sweet and it tastes great ! These berries are more known for their culinary uses but some studies suggest that they can help reduce cholesterol and improve digestion. In Greek/Babylonian mythology, red mulberries came from white mulberries that were stained red from the deaths of the star-crossed lovers Pyramus and Thisbe which gave them the association of love and death.

Love, death, faith, wisdom

Osage oranges- Also known as horse apples or hedge apples. Osage oranges are a yellow-green fruit with a very rough and bumpy peel. These oranges grow on trees called Maclura pomifera. The wood of these trees are used for very good firewood and yellow-green dyes. The Osage natives would use the wood from the tree for many things like bows and boats as it’s very flexible. The roots of the trees are sometimes made into water infusions to help with eye conditions. People have also used the wood, or even sat out the fruit, to deter insects. Osage oranges are edible but most people, and even animals, will avoid eating them due to their dry and bitter taste. They taste like very bitter and citrus-y cucumbers. These oranges can cause skin irritation to some. 

Warding, protection, strength

Pinecones- Pinecones are geometric cones that come from conifer pine trees that produce pollen or seeds depending on their sex. Pinecones symbolize fertility and life in many cultures and have been used in artwork for centuries. The pineal gland in the brain was named after pinecones because of its shape, this gland is sometimes referred to as the “third eye” and some believe that it acts as a witch’s eye would; this is how pinecones were tied to the idea of enlightenment and rebirth as well as the fact that they have been around for so long. Some conifer cones are edible (some aren't!) but they are very tough to chew so you must boil them before eating, pinecone jam has been commonly made from young cones. Pine has been used in teas, tinctures, resins, and many other things to treat coughs, allergies, and help with sinus infections. 

Fertility, creativity, prosperity, enlightenment, rebirth

Prickly lettuce- a quite tall, red stem that contains latex with large tooth-shaped leaves that have prominent veins and spikes lining its edges and main vein on its underside. When it blooms it has small, pale yellow flowers. This plant is edible and is pretty much used like normal lettuce while having a slightly bitter taste, as usual, this gets less noticeable as it matures. Leaves can be eaten in salads or cooked/steamed and the root can be made into a tea. The latex substance that comes out of the leaves and stem when injured is called lactucarium which is known as lettuce opium due to its sedative and pain-relieving properties; the process of harvesting this substance is tedious. This can be used to help people sleep, relax, and relieve pain. Lettuce in general has a great amount of significant historical usage. Lettuce came to be associated with sex because an Egyptian fertility god, Min, was associated with lettuce as it was known as an aphrodisiac that was ritualistically ingested before sex. These effects were due to the lactucarium. In Hellenism, when Adonis died he was laid on a bed of lettuce along with other fast-growing plants. In festivals for him, they would burn withered lettuce and mourn his death, this related lettuce to death. 

Necromancy, offerings for the deceased, fertility, sex

Queen Anne's Lace- Also known as wild carrot. A tall flowering weed with a thin, stiff stem and tiny white, clustered flowers. The flowerhead consists of a bunch of separate flowers, some plants may have a singular purple/pink flower.  Queen Anne's lace's root is edible which is actually where it gets the names wild carrot and Daucus Carota, it's good steamed and boiled. It is pretty stringy and if you wait too long to harvest it can become very hard and woody. This plant is NOT safe to consume for those who are pregnant ! The stem is known to cause skin irritation and rashes to people with sensitive skin. Despite being edible, most wouldn't suggest eating it because it looks almost identical to poison hemlock which if consumed could be fatal. It also looks a ton like wild celery but that's less of an issue. Historically, the seeds of wild carrot were used as an abortant in a "morning after pill" type of way. Wild carrot was named Queen Anne's Lace after Queen Anne of England who was a great lace maker, there is a legend that when making lace one day she pricked her finger then a single drop of blood fell on it and that's why the flower has a single purple flower. Because of the association to Queen Anne, some would use it to try to attract love or make themselves look more beautiful. Wild carrot is also called bird's nest or the bishop's flower which ties it to themes of safety and sanctuary.

Beauty, love, glamours

Rosebay willowherb- Also commonly known as fireweed for its appearance or bombweed because it began to heavily grow in bomb craters/sites in WWII around the UK. The rosebay willowherb has tall reddish stems and willow-like leaves with long magenta flowers. Traditionally it's been used in teas, jellies, and salads. It has a pretty bitter taste so you need to harvest it young and cook it before eating. It's used in teas for its demulcent properties, to treat certain stomach conditions, and has been used in skincare because of its astringent properties. There’s not much folklore about this plant but it’s well known for appearing after events that devastated an area, it was one of the first plants to start growing after Mt. St. Helens, after colonizers burnt down forests, and after bombs dropped in WWII. I’ve also heard it’s bad luck to pick its flowers, either stating that a storm will occur or your mother will fall ill.

Courage, perseverance, change, bad luck

Stinging nettle- tall, heart-shaped, toothed leaves. The leaves are covered in small stinging hairs that when touched will inject chemicals into one's skin and cause slight stinging sensations. Young stinging nettle has widely been used in dishes as soaking/cooking it takes away the sting. It is very similar to spinach in taste, texture, and nutrients. Ointments are made to treat arthritis and inflammation, teas are made from dried leaves and flowers to treat allergies and hayfever. Poultices of the leaves were used for stiff joints and muscle pain by helping blood circulation in that area. Be wary of using stinging nettle on your skin as it can cause rashes and blisters. Some Native American groups used it in teas as a stomach tonic. In Celtic folklore, it was said to keep evil spirits and illness at bay, it also says that when you see thick strands of nettle it means that faeries are nearby. 

Binding, protection from baneful magick and evil spirits, strength, curse breaking

Sweetgum seed pods- Also known as witch’s burrs or witch balls. Sweetgum seed pods are hard, spikey seed pods with small holes where the seeds once were. These fall from sweetgum trees after they mature and disperse their seeds. These aren’t edible nor really used for any medicinal purpose. They’re often placed around plants to protect them from animals. Magickally, you can place them around your space to ward off unwanted energies and entities or even grind them into a powder for banishing or protection. These things hurt like hell to step on so they’re also good to use in baneful protection magick, like baneful wards or return to senders. 

Protection, warding, binding, baneful protection

Violet- There are many species of violets so I'm going to cover them in a broad sense. Violets are usually small, light purple flowers with short stems, little shrubbery, and heart/kidney/scalloped leaves. In many species of violet both the leaves and flowers are edible and contain high levels of vitamins A and C, but make sure to properly identify your plant before consuming. These can be made into teas, sweets, salads, etc. Violet syrup is my favourite ! Some leaves in wild violets will taste quite soapy, so try them out before cooking them into anything. Violet leaves have cooling and anti-inflammatory properties so they are used in poultices, salves, compresses, and oils for scrapes, burns, and bug bites. Violets have traditionally been used in teas or tonics for coughs and swollen lymph nodes. There is a lot of folklore and mythology that this flower is a part of. Violets are largely associated with modesty and innocence and this stems from two main stories; Persephone was said to be picking violets when Hades kidnapped her to live in the underworld and in Greek mythology when Apollo pursued a nymph, Artemis/Diana turned her into a violet to protect her. There are also stories in The Bible that associate violets with modesty like when Archangel Gabriel tells Mary she is pregnant, violets bloom around her. This is why sometimes when a child dies, violets are put on their grave as a representation of their innocence. There are many other popular stories of violets turning to tears when someone is crying. They’re also associated with love from a story of Venus and Cupid and were believed to be an aphrodisiac in the Middle Ages. 

Femininity, respect, wisdom, modesty, divination, love 

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Disclaimer !!: Before you consume or use a plant medicinally, make sure you are 100% sure on the ID. Speak with a doctor before using a plant, especially if you’re pregnant, and make sure you aren’t allergic and that it won’t interact with any of your medications. Do not substitute legitimate medications with herbal remedies, this is not medical advice. Always do your own research before consuming or using a plant medicinally. Some of the plants, while generally safe for humans, are not safe for animals and children. As a general rule of thumb, younger greens will taste better. As the plant matures and bears fruit it will typically become more bitter, so the best time to harvest most of these is before it bears fruit. Make sure to avoid areas treated with pesticides and always wash your takings before use. And make sure you're never over-harvesting, always make sure there's another 'patch' of the plant your taking !!

#herbology #witchcraft #witchblr #foraging #herbalism #green witchcraft #kitchen witch #wildcrafting #occult #magick #grimoire #book of shadows #correspondences #kitchen magick #beginner witch #baby witch #witch #witch tips #noctifer-og

[ruthytwoshakes]

Good morning americaaaa ka kaw!!!!! I’ve been gaming recently so. I made more . mor of the guys! In the style of the game I was playing!!! Woooohooooooo

I got Cattails: Wildwood for chrissmiss ,aand it’s been so much fun to play. It’s like stardew valley but with cats AND you get to design a whole town AND you can marry god. Think it’s still on sale on Steam for those who wanna check it out! Go check it out. Go che. Oh and on the switch B)

I made these first drafts tonight of some fan tf2 characters for the game! I can combine anything. Oorah. Still haven’t got the style of the game down, I’m too heavy handed on the lineart lol, but a good first attempt nonetheless! Definitely wanna revise some of these designs, looking at you pyro. Should be out soon! (Along with lore dumps for each of the kitty kittys yay)

#tf2 #engineer tf2 #heavy tf2 #demoman tf2 #medic tf2 #spy tf2 #sniper tf2 #scout tf2 #pyro tf2 #soldier tf2 #tf2 fanart #tf2 whole team #cattails #cattails wildwood story #cattails fanart #daffys drawings #abysmal amount of tags hough #sniper looks so bald #pyros mask is a bunch of bat corpses metal as fuck

[headspace-hotel]

okay back to being a hater about the Wild Update

I think the reasons why we were disappointed not to get those little "extras" like the reeds and shelf fungi or literally any updates to other biomes have a lot to do with the fact that this would be such a logical and natural progression to improve Minecraft.

With adding content, there's a lot of freedom to do whatever, but the Wild Update was supposed to improve existing biomes, and a lot of biomes are in great need of improvement to "fit" with newer content.

And updating existing stuff should come before adding totally new stuff! It just makes sense!

1.18 provided the foundation to build upon by DRASTICALLY improving the terrain generation. It just...made perfect sense that 1.19 would be about filling and populating that terrain with stuff.

So I REALLY wanted them to give us

more plant diversity. Particularly cattails/reeds, but like...giant Rafflesia flowers in jungles. Thorny brambles in deserts. Pleeeease

more incorporation of "new" natural blocks into older biomes (are you telling me mud only exists in mangrove swamps?? No mud in rivers or ponds or regular swamps? Hello??)

Moss 100% needs to exist in mega taigas if nowhere else. In one of my (sadly now deleted) survival worlds I added moss everywhere to a mega taiga and it looks so lush and gorgeous next to the podzol and mossy cobblestone

I could go on and on: lichen needs to exist outside caves, moss carpets should be under big oak trees, mossy cobblestone and moss should like. Exist in the same places

In general we need some kind of fungi-related update. Make the mushroom island seem like an ecosystem. Put patches of mycelium in swamps.

give azalea trees their own wood

give azalea trees their own wood

GIVE AZALEA TREES THEIR OWN WOOD THIS MAKES ME SO ANGRY it's supposed to be a new tree but it has OAK WOOD??? A SCAM??

#minecraft #mineblr #minecraft 1.19 #feel free to repost #minecraft the wild update

[z3nitsusgf]

It is 3 am and Will Graham kisses you with a brokenness. The pallid moon glows through his big farmhouse windows, the dogs are curled lazily in their beds by the space heathers. And Will is in a state of desperate neediness that he often doesn’t show, but it bleeds from him like an open wound, spilling out in his touch.

He smells of dog and Irish spring, not the most sophisticated of scents - but it fits him well. You don’t mind it as much as you thought you would, it’s comforting. He tastes like coffee, bitter and earthy. His mouth slides over yours, chapped lips molding against your own. His hands twitch at your sides, still unsure if he can grab onto you or not (if you’re even real, to begin with). He’s flustered, restless with the way he smears his mouth across yours and pants.

You card your fingers through his hair, scraping your nails against the nape of his neck - he shivers so hard you’d think he has a fever. He can’t tell if the pounding in his chest is from anxiety or swelling of love, perhaps both. You let him melt against you, you let him drag his teeth on your skin, you let him mark up your neck like a wild animal. It’s like a strange relief, to let loose like this.

“Will,” you pant against his parted mouth, fogging up his glasses with your shared oxygen. He doesn’t let you up for air even though he should. The way you say it makes him squirm, thick and soft like molasses brown sugar, the kind he’d eat on his flapjacks back home.

It’s strange, to see him like this. With the night in the eyes and a face as handsome as the bleeding sun. His stubble prickles your cheek when he brushes his face against yours, nuzzling you like one of the dogs. He is practically a dog, an overgrown one that deserves more pats on the head than he’ll ever admit.

He presses you against the wall of his living room, not even phased about being next to the open windows - why would he? He lives in the middle of nowhere. You don’t know why he doesn’t keep you in his bed, but you assume it’s because even he thinks this is all just a dream. He hums when you whisper his name again.

“I love you.” You mumble against his tongue, letting him swallow your words like honey on a spoon. Feeding him your sweetened affections till he feels himself get a toothache. It’s like he’s drunk off you.

His brain is muddled, thick, and hazy like fog over a lake. Murky with unbridled fears, dipping into the inky black depths of his subconscious. Even as he kisses you, there’s a heaviness to him. He slants himself against you, thighs pressing against the outside of yours, his hands cup your waist like you’re sand on the beach. Trying not to let you slip between his fingers and drift away. The sound of the last dying cicadas bleed in the back of his mind, and the soft gushing of wind blowing across his charming little house wraps the both of you in a daze.

You’re soft under his palms like swollen flower petals under the august sun. He sucks you in, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip - like he wants to consume you. You’re so good, you don’t taste like ashes or blood or gore. You’re bittersweet like cherries, and you sound like heaven when you moan into his mouth. You’re soft as cattails on a marshy water bank, brushing against his button-up and cupping his face between your palms to drag him back to you.

“Love you too.” He mumbles back, inhaling the scent of your perfume. He backlogs moments like this, and tries to remember them even though in a few hours he’ll wake in a cold sweat on his bed and not remember how he got there. It’s temporary, but he hopes it lasts forever. That when he wakes you’ll be right beside him and do it once more - to remind him he’s not going to fade away.

He could cry, he will cry. It’s like a cool wave, watching the way your eyes glaze over and you look at him like he’s hung every star in the sky. Refreshing, to be loved so beautifully. Not in a sick, perverted way like he’s used to, but with a heart so full he almost can’t contain it. He wonders faintly if you too will uncover the gross creature that he is underneath if you’ll turn away from him when you realize how destructive he naturally is. He, selfishly, hopes you stay.

#will graham post…. I might be going insane #give my poor dog man a break please #val.writes ❦ #will graham x you #will graham x reader #nbc hannibal #hannibal x reader

[not-a-space-alien]

Tinytopia Chapter 9: Bloodthirst (Part 1)

Story Masterpost

On AO3

Thanks to my beta/sensitivity reader @appelsiinilight and my bonus beta reader for the next two chapters, @whumpsday!

In this chapter: Thistle indulges in getting cozy, but finds the house disturbed by yet another new arrival.

With respect to @whumpsday, the og of hungry vampire sadbois, and @entomolog-t, the og of tiny vampires.

***

There were now enough pixies for a pixie pile.

Thistle was ecstatic.  He’d grown up sleeping in a pixie pile, and he’d missed it, longed for it, ached for it ever since his separation from his family.

Sleeping on top of Moon was nice enough, but he wasn’t a pixie.  And with Marigold here, there were two pixies.  Not enough for a pile.

But Jax had a pixie incarnation now.  There were three pixies, which met the minimum number needed to be a proper pile.

Moon would be included, of course, even if he wasn’t a pixie.  The pile would simply go on top of him.

Thistle made sure everyone had a nice, soft pair of pajamas.  Enough thick, fuzzy socks.  Enough blankets and soft pads to sleep on.  Hot, sweet drinks to sip in the evening before falling asleep.

Oh, yeah.  This was going to be perfect.

Thistle cleared enough space in his wooden castle–for once, he was worried he might not have enough room in there for something.  He arranged everything just right, plumping pillows and layering blankets and smoothing out sheets.  He wove small animals out of plant fiber–such toys weren’t out of place in pixie nests, quite similar to humans’ stuffed animals.  They didn’t usually make them bears or cats or dogs, though–pixies had a completely different array of animals that were culturally important.  

Thistle remembered his Mother’s Mother’s hive having a nest of ants in the bottom of the structure, tended to like a herd–he couldn’t remember if they’d done anything besides occasionally eating the larvae.  It’d been such a long time ago that all he remembered was that they tasted quite good.  Before Thistle had left, Mother had been in the process of trying to make space in their tree for clusters of honeydew-producing aphids.  She’d also told Thistle that some hives knew how to rear moths or spiders for their silk, which Thistle had always longed to see, but she’d said moths were more complicated than aphids and spiders had a safety risk.

There had been that one time his older brother Oak had brought home a disfigured moth which would have died without help–its wing had gotten caught in its cocoon while trying to emerge, and now it was wrinkly, tiny, and useless for flying.  Mother let Oak keep the moth as a pet, even though it had no practical use.  It was fuzzy, nice to hold, and pretty to look at.  Oak had named it Cattail.

He lovingly traced the memories as he wove, imagining himself making a toy for Dewdrop.  Aunt Winter’s new baby, Dewdrop.  He wanted to meet Dewdrop so badly.  Thistle was really the only one in the hive good enough with his hands to make toys without using magic.  He would have been making all the toys for Dewdrop.  Had someone else been making them?  Was Dewdrop wanting for toys?

He suddenly realized he’d begun crying when a tear dripped down onto the moth doll he’d been making.  He slowly wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, then sniffled and straightened himself up.

There was no need to be sad.  He was going to have a pixie pile again.  Dewdrop was fine, and so was he.

He arranged a moth doll and an aphid doll so they were nicely on top of the covers, then stood back to examine his work.  I should sell those on Etsy, too.  Everyone would go wild for them.  He started writing the listing title mentally.  Miniature insect bug arthropod crochet doll lifelike fidget toy Micro realistic choose SET or INDIVIDUAL made to order.  He could sell one for $20 or a set of three for $50.  Yeah.  That would be good.

He walked out and pushed Marigold’s wheelchair to the entrance of his wooden house.  “Are you ready for bed, Marigold?”

He nodded.

Pixie-Jax flitted on the roof of the house, jumping down onto the ground.  “I am too!”

“Shh,” Thistle said.  “Speak quietly.  We’re supposed to be calming down now.”

Jax nodded, looking very serious in his oversized pajamas that swallowed his hands.

Moon arrived five minutes after the agreed upon time, as always.  He had an eye mask on his forehead and an extra pillow under his arm.  “I stayed up late so that I could be tired precisely for this slumber gathering,” Moon declared.  “Let us commence.”

“Okay,” Thistle said, trying not to get excited.  He was supposed to be calming down.  “Moon, you go in first, and then we’ll all get on top of you.”

Moon ducked to go into Thistle’s house.  “Good Heavens!  It’s a proper cornucopia of comfort in here.”

Thistle poked his head in and watched as Moon arranged himself, pulling the covers back.  Moon held his arms up.  “I’m ready for dogpiling, boys.  Have at me.”

“Okay, Jax next.”

Jax dashed into the wooden structure and snuggled up under Moon’s arm.  “Like this?”

“Yes, perfect.  Okay, now Marigold.”

Thistle lent Marigold a hand to stand up out of the wheelchair.  He supported him by the elbow to help him inside.  Marigold’s face twinged with pain as he went down into a kneeling position.

“You all right?”

“Yes–just a moment.”

He shifted to a position that apparently lessened his pain, then gingerly lay down under Moon’s other arm, head on the crook of his elbow.

That just left Thistle.  He crouched down and situated himself on top of Moon, so Moon’s chest fluff was his pillow.  “Everybody comfy?”

There was a round of assenting sounds.

Thistle reached down and pulled the blanket up, swathing them all, and turned off the light.  “Good night, everybody.”

“Thistle my boy, would you pull down my eye mask?  My hands are quite full.”

Thistle reached up and pulled the mask over Moon’s eyes.

“Perfect, thank you.”

“Good night.”

“Good night, Thistle.”

“Good night, Jax.”

“Good night, Thistle.”

“Good night, Marigold.”

No response.

“Marigold?”

“Good night, Thistle.”

“Good night, Marigold.”

“Good night, Jax.”

“Good night, Moon.”

“Is this really quite necessary?”

“You’re supposed to say good night.”

“...Good night, Jax.”

“Marigold?”

No response.

“Marigold, you didn’t say good night to anyone.”

“Good night Thistle, Jax, and Moon.  There.”

“Good night, Marigold.”

“Good night, Marigold.”

“Moon?  You didn’t say good night back to Marigold.”

“Good night, Marigold.  Are you quite satisfied now?  Have we somehow missed a possible permutation here?”

Thistle snuggled closer to Moon, and Jax copied his motion.  “No,” Thistle said contentedly.  “I think that’s everyone.  Thanks.  Good night.  I love you all.”

“I love you, Thistle.”

“I love you, Moon-”

“We are not doing all that again.  I would like to go to sleep sometime in the next twenty-four hours.”

Thistle tugged on the sleeve of Moon's silken pajamas.  “Just once?  Just one, Moon?  Please?”

Moon sighed.  “I love you, Thistle.”

Thistle happily flicked his ears and settled in.  It seemed like Marigold had already fallen asleep.

They dozed like that.  Thistle could hardly get sleepy with how happy he was.  It was so warm and fuzzy, and a soft glow of magic welled up inside him.  He just lay there enjoying it.

It was a while later, after he’d finally managed to fall asleep, that he woke up.  He wasn’t sure why.  But-

Oh.

Oooh.

Marcy’s necklace.

It was sitting on the table–Marcy had left it there today.  It was glowing.  It’d been soft white all night–but now it was bright yellow.

Yellow.  Yellow.  What had yellow meant?

Thistle disentangled himself from the pile and snuck over to the door, peeking his head out.  He didn’t see anybody.

“Hello?” he whispered.  “Is somebody there?”

There came a sound, then–a sort of tittering, accompanied by light flapping.  He turned his attention upwards and saw some small fuzzy creature way, way high up near the ceiling.  It frantically dashed into the room and smacked into the wall, then tumbled down.  When it finally stopped its erratic movements, Thistle saw it was a bat with tawny red fur.

No, not a bat–the real creature emerged from the form of the bat as soon as it touched the ground.  It was a fuzzy humanoid with protruding fangs and triangular ears.

The fish tank flipped open.  “Yo, Thistle!” Jewel shouted.  “Are you gonna wake anyone else up and tell them there’s a fucking vampire in the house or do I need to do it?”

“A vampire?” Thistle squeaked.  

“Gotta be.  I mean, just look at him.  Right?”

The new arrival flipped himself upright from where he’d fallen on the ground, still on all fours, ears pinned back against his head nervously.

“Thistle?” said Moon’s sleepy voice, and his head appeared out the door, eyes still half-closed.  “What are you shouting about?”  His eyes widened as he saw something was up.  “Oh?”

“It’s a vampire,” Thistle said.  He looked over.  “Right?’

“Well yes but, I’m not–I don’t want to hurt you,” the creature said.  His ears were still flat and his voice trembled, as though not entirely sure he would be believed.

Oh, he was speaking Pixish.  The language a predator would typically speak if their primary prey was Pixies.

“I’ll go get Marcy,” Thistle said.  He looked behind him and saw Marigold stirring in the bed, with Jax not far behind.  “...I’ll stay here with Marigold.  Moon, you go get Marcy?”

“Am I your messenger?”

“...Yes?”

“...All right.”  Moon drew himself out of the house and spread his wings, then took off upstairs.

The new arrival watched him with wide eyes.  Clearly he’d never seen one of Moon’s kind before.

“Thistle, who’s that?” Jax whispered.

“Just stay inside.  I’ll handle this.”  He gave a nervous wave to the creature.  “Hi.  I’m Thistle.”

“I’m Auburn,” he said.  Pixish actually had more words to describe colors than English, with Pixie’s sensitive eyes able to see more with minute differences. He wasn't sure if vampires could see the same way, but the word he gave as his name, Kasabrua, the closest translation of which was Auburn, actually referred to the very specific shade of red in the coat of a fox’s fur.  That was exactly the color his fur was, so it was fitting–it was basically the equivalent of calling him “Foxy” or “Vixen,” although Thistle knew those two words had…. connotations in English that they wouldn’t have in Pixish.

“Hi, Auburn.  It’s nice to meet you.  My friend Marcy is coming downstairs.  She’s a human.  Is that okay?”

Auburn hugged the wall, like he was afraid Thistle was going to attack him.  “Yes.  Yes, please, I’d like to meet her.”

Thistle and Auburn kept tense eye contact with each other as Moon came back down, followed by Marcy, still in her pajamas.  “Oh my gosh, hi!” she said with restrained enthusiasm.  She knelt down beside Thistle, who fluttered onto her lap.

Auburn kept his eyes on Marcy, body tense.  He was clearly terrified, but he made no motion to leave.

“He speaks Pixish,” Thistle said. 

“Hi,” Marcy said gently.  “I’m Marcy.”

“I’m Auburn.  You’re really big.”  He swallowed.  “Sorry, um… I'm not supposed to be seen, and I’ve never met a human before.  So, so it’s a little scary.”

“She is pretty big,” Thistle said.  “But she’s nice.  Do you want to tell us a little bit about yourself?

“Well, um…  I heard that all kinds of creatures live here together in peace, even predators.  So, so I’m interested in.  That.”  He flattened himself against the ground, as though to disappear.  “If that’s okay.”

“Of course that’s okay,” Marcy said.  “Where did you hear it?  Who?”

“A, um.  A tree creature told me.  A dryad.”

Marcy and Thistle looked at each other.

“Could it be the same dryad that told Jax?”  Thistle poked his head into the house.  “Jax?”

Jax crawled forward, just peeking out.  “The dryad that told me was a big tree.”

Auburn shook his head.  “The dryad that told me was a holly bush.”

Okay, they were definitely going to have to coerce Trilloras to come out and answer questions.  They’d already tried every combination of begging, coaxing, and threatening they could think of to get her to come out, yet her sapling remained totally inert.  They were starting to think that maybe she was asleep or unconscious and couldn’t hear them.

“It sounds like they’re different dryads,” Marcy said.  “But that’s okay.  We don’t have to talk about them.  Let’s talk about you.”

Auburn nodded nervously.  “Right, right.  Um.  I just want to live in peace.  So, so if this is a place where I can do that.  Then I want to stay here.  If that’s okay.”

“Sure!” Thistle said brightly, absolutely delighted.  “Sure, we’ll figure out a way you can live here.”

Auburn drew forward slightly.  “Real, really?  Um, mostly I was worried about…where I would hunt.  Um, since–if–it seems like everyone here–”

“We can figure that out,” Thistle said.  “We have a trick.”

“Can we talk about it in the morning?” Moon said.  “I’m not ready to be awake yet.”

“Right!” Auburn squeaked.  “Sorry, sorry for interrupting.  Um, you can, you can go back to sleep.”

Marcy looked from Auburn to Thistle, then sat on the couch.  “I’ll stay down here.”

“Okay,” Auburn said bashfully.  “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.  It’s just to watch things.  You’re probably not tired because it’s night, huh?”

“I’m… tired.  I could sleep.”  He sounded dejected.

“Okay.  Um.  How do you sleep?”

“On the ceiling.”  He looked morosely up at the ceiling.  “But there aren’t any footholds.”

Marcy tapped her chin.  “Oh!  Hold on, I know.”  She went into the next room and retrieved Colin’s pullup bar, mounting it in the doorway.  “There, like that?”

Auburn clung to the wall with his creepy little hands, shimmying up it until he was far enough to push off and jump into the air.  His arms transformed into wings as he flapped them, and he propelled himself up to take hold of the bar.

He hooked his feet around it and hung upside-down, ensconcing himself in his wings like a blanket.  “This, this is wonderful.  Thank you.  I can stay up here?”

“Yeah,” Thistle said.  “That’s okay.”

“Thank you.”

Auburn seemed peaceful enough, but Thistle was still glad that Marcy was nearby.

Despite being too tired to function, he wasn’t sure if he would sleep much with a vampire hanging over the room.

***

The pixie pile did manage to get a decent amount of rest in the end.  Thistle woke up feeling recharged and energetic–ready for a day full of art.  Because that would be step one to welcome a new resident: it was his responsibility to befriend Auburn so he wouldn’t have to hunt.  Now that he’d already done it with Severa and knew it was possible, it didn’t seem so daunting.  If anything, it was exciting.

True, Auburn was scary.  He was almost as tall as Moon.  His fangs poked out of his mouth.  He clearly was a lot stronger than Thistle.  He slept overhead, hanging menacingly.  And he drank blood–probably, they hadn’t seen that yet.  He’d probably attacked and maybe even killed people.  But he was already here peacefully and seemed willing to do what they asked.  This couldn’t be harder than Severa, surely.

Auburn was still in the same place hanging from the pullup bar in the morning–true to his word, he was fast asleep and looked exhausted when everyone else was stirring.  Teddy and Colin came down, and more introductions were had.  Teddy very valiantly hid her disquiet at seeing Auburn, while Colin was concerned about rabies.  Marcy reassured them it was safe and that she would handle it, although privately she was also a little bit worried about rabies.

Thistle made the rounds to gather a group for a painting session.  Marigold, Jax, and Severa were on board without needing any cajoling.  Moon declared he was going to try it, since he was warming up to Thistle’s silly projects.  Jewel said he didn’t want to do anything involving paint, since it got all over his skin and felt bad in the water, even if it was nontoxic.  Violet couldn’t be coerced to come out even though Petunia definitely would have enjoyed it, but whatever.

“Art is a great way to bond,” Thistle said, laying out his paints.  He had Marcy lay out some canvases for them to paint.  “It’s a great activity to do together, and you can talk while you do it.  This will be a great way to get to know each other.”

“I admit I thought it quite useless at first,” Severa admitted.  “But I am starting to enjoy it more.”

“It’s growing on me, too,” Moon said.

Auburn knelt next to the paints, touching one of the tubes.  “Great!  Um, so, what, what do I do?”

“You, um…”  At this point Thistle noticed that Auburn’s hand was shaking.  “Hey, are you okay?”

Auburn drew his hand back, then gave a pained smile.  “Oh, sorry.  Um, I haven’t, um, I’m pretty hungry, that’s all.”

Thistle felt like he’d been smacked in the face.  That was why Auburn was tired enough to go to sleep last night?  He simply hadn’t eaten and therefore had no energy?  He’d been sitting there hungry enough to start trembling and didn’t say anything?

“Hey, we can’t have fun and bond on an empty stomach,” Thistle said gently.  “Come on, let’s take care of that first.”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” Auburn said quickly.  “I’m sorry.  You don’t have to worry about me.”

“We want to, though.  We wouldn’t tell you to stay here and then make you starve.”  Oh whoops, Thistle had said that and then remembered that Auburn would presumably have to drink someone’s blood.  Thistle certainly wasn’t eager to volunteer himself for that.

Fortunately, Severa spoke first.  “I will help you.  You drink blood, yes?  I have plenty of blood, and my magic is strong.”

Auburn practically wilted with relief.  “Thank you.  Thank you so much.”

Severa reached down and pried one of the scales on her abdomen back, exposing vulnerable, soft flesh.  Auburn crept near.  “It’s really okay?”

“Yes.”

Auburn leaned over, shaking, and gently made a soft cut with his fangs, then clamped his mouth over the wound, taking small sips.

Severa put her hand on his head.  A tear leaked from his eye.

After a moment, he drew back, wiping his face.  “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”  Severa pushed the scale back down, wincing but not complaining.

“There,” Thistle said.  “Everyone is okay and feels good.  Right?”

Severa and Auburn both nodded.

“Good.  Now let’s get painting.”

Thistle guided Auburn, Severa, Moon, Marigold, and Jax through laying out their canvas and starting to apply the paint to it.  Marcy participated too, sitting on the floor with a proportional paper.

“So,” Thistle said conversationally as they worked.  “Auburn, can you tell us a bit more about yourself?  What made you decide to seek us out?  Why did the dryad tell you to come here?  If you know.”

“Oh, um.”  Auburn had red paint all over his hands and was putting paw prints all over his canvas.  “Well, my family kicked me out of my colony.  So, so I didn’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“That’s horrible!” Jax cried.  “I can’t imagine if Thistle kicked me out!  Why would they?”

Auburn’s ears drooped, and the motions of his hands became slow and unenthusiastic.

“Jax, he might be sensitive about it,”  Thistle chided.  “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, Auburn.”

“No, it’s okay.”  He dipped his hands in yellow and started making yellow pawprints.  “Well, I’m, um, I’m a Worthless, so when things got tight, I was the first to go.”

The exact word he used was Struntajo, which meant roughly worthless, but he said it like it was supposed to mean something more.  Thistle had never heard anyone use it that way.

“What’s that mean?” Jax said, once again failing to understand what a sensitive topic is.

“We can talk about it later if you want,” Thistle offered, wincing.

“No, it’s okay.  I didn’t realize you’d have no way to know what that is, I guess.”  He clasped his paint-laden hands together.  “Um, when prey is plentiful, vampires will sometimes have an extra pup in their litters that’s small and weak.  If there’s enough to go around, the runt gets enough food to grow up strong.  But, but if there isn’t, then the runt is there to take the hit when they have to make sacrifices if things get worse.”

“Sacrifices?” Severa said.

Auburn shuffled his feet.  “Leave it to die, usually.”

“That’s horrible,” Severa said, utterly horrified.  “They have an extra baby on purpose for the sake of having something to sacrifice if their gamble doesn’t pay off?”

“I mean, it makes sense if you think about it.  At least, I mean.  My siblings all contributed more to the colony than I did.  So, so when resources started getting scarce, it’s better that they could cut me off rather than someone who actually helped.  You know?  As soon as I became an adult they made it clear I had to leave if I didn’t contribute more. It wasn't a surprise or anything.”

Severa clenched the paintbrush she was using so hard that it snapped in half.  “That is a horrible way to think about it.  I could never dream of even considering sending someone I’d raised from a little baby out to die just because they weren’t useful enough.”

Auburn shrunk away from the anger in her voice.  “Er, well, if there isn’t enough to go around…”

“Then you get more, or you yourself go hungry.  That’s what being a mother means, not this- this perversion where children are seen as an investment you expect returns on in the future.”

Auburn rubbed the back of his neck.  “Well, well I’m not a parent, so I guess I wouldn’t know.”

“You’re right,” Severa snipped.  “You wouldn’t know.”

“I’m sorry,” Thistle said, trying to rein the conversation back in.  “That sounds very difficult.  So that’s why you were looking for somewhere else to go?”

Auburn nodded.  “I’m bad at hunting.  I’m small, weak, not a strong flier, and not good at magic.  My family got tired of helping me, so I haven’t been back to the colony.…  I’ve been.”  Tears welled up in his eyes again.  “I’ve been just barely hanging on.  You’re the first ones who have been nice to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Marigold said.  “I’m surprised to find myself sympathizing with a predator at all, but I truly can’t imagine what I would do if my family were like that.”

Thistle was intimidated to think about Auburn being a runt, considering how very large he still was.  Thistle very bravely stood near him.  “Do you want a hug?”

Auburn nodded miserably.

Thistle wrapped his arms around Auburn’s midsection, and Auburn’s arms came around him gently.

“Ooh, you’re soft,” Thistle said into his fur.

Auburn chuckled.  “Glad there’s something good about me, at least.”

“I am not jealous,” Moon announced mechanically.  “I am also soft, and it’s fine that there are multiple soft people in the house that Thistle likes to touch.  It does not reflect on my worth as an individual.”

Thistle sighed and looked over his shoulder.  “Good job, Moon.”

Moon gave him a thumbs up.

***

@static-stars

@cloudwatchingtoday   @theepiccreatorofmagic-blog-blog  @waitisthatgt @itssmoltime 

@ratcatcher0325  @crazytinygirl @bittykimmy13  @whumpsday @theroyaleemily 

@kitn-underfoot 

@tinyguy42069

@jewel-fan-wys

@cheeseybeans8

@whumpshaped

@lucentbliss

@alilbitlesbian

@aceouttatime

@alarcomet

@becca-but-bitty

@tiny--pineapple

@bittykimmy13

@whumpsday

@kitn-underfoot

@gt-brainrot

@silent-orchid-lady

@starfields08000

@predacon-skydrift

@vidawhump

@whumpdreamz

@honeycollectswhump

@imber-rose

#g/t #gt #gianttiny #fairy #giant/tiny #size difference

[luc3]

Black Elderberry. [French Folks Traditions]

In the 19th century, the peasants of France still attributed magical properties to the Elderberry, and its wood was sometimes used to make sorcerer's staffs and divinatory wands.

In the legend, Judas, after having betrayed Christ, would have gone to hang himself from an Elderberry branch. Thus, it is said in Vienne, that the person who breaks an elderberry branch in the garden of his neighbors will betray this one in the year, even without wanting it and without knowing it.

It should also be noted that in certain regions, Elderberry served as a panacea : everything was good in Elderberry for healing, in the past. But that following the curse linked to Judas, its powers had been supposedly removed.

Protective Magic :

Côtes d'Armor : Elderberries are planted near houses to ward off evil spells and snakes. It is also used to protect livestock (diseases and evil spells) by placing a branch in the cows' litter.

Yonne : Pick up a branch of Elderberry on the passage of the Corpus-Christi procession and then place it in an apple tree, it'll protect it against caterpillars. (?!)

Lower Brittany, Côtes d'Armor : You should never hit a cow with an Elderberry branch, it will make it sick, or cause its milk to dry up. Same thing for pigs. Moreover, if you burn Elderberry wood, you risk preventing the hens from laying eggs.

Magical Medicine:

Côte d'Armor : It is said that the Dlderberry is a "doctor", because the fairies took refuge in the flowers to flee the world when it became too mean. (a special one for my dear @lailoken )

Vienne, Vaucluse : the patient who touches an Elderberry will get better in the next few days, and to cure fevers you have to slip his name and date of birth into a previously hollowed-out elderberry tree.

The feast of Saint John is (of course) favorable to the Elderberry, whose virtues it multiplies.

In the Gospel of the Cattails it is said that warts are cured by rubbing it with an Elder leaf on the eve of Saint John, a leaf which is then buried. As the leaf rots, the wart dries out.

In Upper Brittany, Elderflowers collected on Saint John's Day are used to make an herbal tea to treat sick eyes.

Witchcraft :

Jura : We know the story of a sorcerer who introduced a little excrement from the person or animal he wanted to bewitch into a hollowed-out elderberry stick. He then fixed this stick in running water while reciting a prayer. The victim had stomach aches as long as the water agitated the stick.

In addition, Collin de Plancy in his Dictionnaire Infernal reports that : "when one has received some curse from a sorcerer whom one does not know, one hangs one's habit from one ankle and strikes on it with an elderberry stick; all the blows will fall on the back of the guilty sorcerer, who will be forced to come, in all haste, to remove the spell."

I learned SO MUCH HERE (snakes / little neighbors / sick eyes) while I came confident and persuaded to find other things in these quotes... Thus I'll continue to thank and pay tribute by posting the work of J. Fournier on the subject. (Once translated.)

Pic 1 @incroyables-plantes ; pic 2-3 @lherbier-d-elsa

Quotes arranged by me from the Dictionnaire de la France Mystérieuse by MC Delmas.

Also @graveyarddirt, I know you have some and you'll like it Sis' <3

#Sambucus Nigra #Black Elderberry #Great Grand'Ma #Great Old One #mountain gods #<3 #diary #Them #PS: if we could commit suicide collectively concerning the tumblr layout thing? #French Folks Traditions

[wuzhere75]

I love WoF AUs that go “what if different eggs got taken for the dragonet prophecy” and we get a different set of dragonets for an alternate version of the 1st arc.

So yeah I decided to make my own (I’ve gone through a couple of different iterations, but this is the most current.

The quirk here is that I basically thought “wait what if the dragonets where everything Morrowseer had wanted”. Like they just ended up with with a perfectly normal set of a Mud, Sand, Sea, Night, and Skywing. No replacement-that-is-of-a-different-tribe-because-one-of-the-guardians-fucked-something-up. No obvious hybrids. They get left alone for another year, and emerge from the cave to the chaos of the events of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd arcs all at once.

(Also another quirk is that they are all related in some way to a canon character; Asha and Hviter are also still alive)

Bigshadow (She/They)

-She’s the big soft himbo-type character. Due to severe nearsightedness, they’ve always had difficulty reading/writing. The guardians just assume she’s dumb, but she really loves learning and art.

-I can’t remember if it’s canon that Secretkeeper and Morrowseer had tried to had dragonets before Moonwatcher and that they had “lost” them, but I decided for this AU, an attempt had produced a viable egg and Morrowseer decided “what would be a better dragonet to lead the dragonets of destiny than my own”, stealing the egg and flying through the night to the cave.

-Due to this, Bigshadow was partially exposed to the moonlight of the Brightest Night, giving her somewhat unreliable psychic powers. Most of the time she misinterprets them as being very weird dreams/intrusive thoughts.

-Shortly after Morrowseer did his year-prior check in, they start to feel a strange presence in their dreams and swear they hear someone calling to them from outside the cave when things are quiet (*cough* *cough* Darkstalker).

Mangrove (He/They) (yes I know there is already a canon character named Mangrove; it’s a sick name)

-Gumpy quiet sad man who’s in to medicine and nature

-In this universe, Gill gets a “funny feeling” during the Brightest Night and decides to take what would be Tsunami’s egg so he can “be with his new daughter during her hatching”. Webs, then, takes one of the male eggs instead when he breaks into the hatching room.

-The AU Sandwing minder; Jackal (more on her later), was a little too rough on him when was younger during fight practice (maybe I should have featured a scar somewhere in his design?). Due to this, he abhors violence.

Mole (She/Her)

-The softly spoken nerd who gets picked on for not being the big strong meatbag Mudwing the guardians had wanted. She has a secretly love for war history and is probably really good at strategically fighting (in a real world AU she would be an American Civil War or WWII nerd).

-Asha couldn’t get Cattail to give up Clay’s egg, so Crocodile (remember that lady?) gives Asha “her” blood red egg (she actually stole it from her sister, Toad) at the last minute.

-I originally had her as being from a non-blood red egg Crocodile just painting red but the Sandwing minder probably just would have incinerated her.

Coyote (Any Pronouns) (I’m not sure about the name; I wanted something related to new world deserts but not named after a cactus and I don’t feel like Gila or Mesa fit).

-Apathetic bastard who hates everyone except her adoptive siblings (basically as far as you could get from Sunny without being an outright evil asshole).

-In this AU, Dune never left the Outclaws (the dragonet that would have been Sunny is raised among them). Due to this, a different Sandwing minder was chosen from the TOP; Jackal.

-Jackal was…umm…very devout to the prophecy and willing to “weed out anything that wasn’t promised in the prophecy” (she probably would have killed both Glory and Sunny immediately, Starflight not having psychic powers probably would have set her off as well).

-Jackal stole the egg of her brother, Corsac, a general in Blaze’s army. Corsac and his wife, Bison, caught her in the middle of the act, but she got away (they would later have a son, Pronghorn, like the one from JMA).

Shrike (They/Them)

-The artsy goth kid who loves supernatural stuff (they go wild every time Hviter or Webs starts talking about amunism).

-Kestrel in this AU either doesn’t have Peril/Sky in the first place or chooses to fuck off into the mountains with her kids (perhaps with the help of Soar/Chameleon?). Maroon (name also pending), a different Skywing, is instead chosen. Due to Maroon being less “high profile” than Kestrel, he is chosen to steal the Skywing egg, being more familiar with what hatcheries are more or less highly guarded than others (unlike, say, Hviter).

-This version of the dragonets have made a giant cave mural with the help of Asha and the Maroon. Shrike is the primary contributor to this mural even though the other dragonets have “grown out of it”. Mostly, they paint Bigshadow’s “dreams”.

-They are intrigued by Bigshadow’s dreams and is the only one who thinks they are more than just dreams.

-They make jewelry out of bones from the prey animals the guardians bring them (originally I was going to include a necklace with some skulls and stuff, but that shit’s hard to draw).

-I had no smooth way of tying to fit this in but he is either the half-sibling or cousin (I haven’t decided) to the Skywing False Dragonet, Flame.

#wof #wof au #wof alternate dragonet au #dragons #wof nightwing #wof seawing #wof skywing #wof mudwing #wof sandwing #wof OC #OC #digital art #my art #procreate #2022 #wof alternate dragonets AU #OC bigshadow #OC mangrove #OC mole #OC arroyo #OC shrike

[adelaidedrubman]

wip. well. it’s something.

i was tagged on my most detested of wednesdays by my most beloved of moots @trench-rot @cassietrn @wrathfulrook @socially-awkward-skeleton @nightbloodbix @direwombat @inafieldofdaisies! thank you my loves.

unfortunately between work bullshit and all my free time getting eaten up by the tadpole in my brain, i haven’t had the chance to actually write much new. but trying to keep myself posting as motivation SO here is an excerpt from chapter four of hook, line, and sinker i don’t think i’ve shared before (if i have, no i didn’t)

Jessie grunted with a flex of her shoulders to yank the cooler further up the uneven slope of the hill — finally giving up rolling it on plastic wheels thoroughly warped by unforgiving rock to instead hoist it up and carry it by the side handles with tackle box stacked atop it as their footing became so steep and uneven it felt as if they were ascending stairs. “I don’t fuckin’ let a good catch go to waste.”  “You’re a paragon of virtue,” John complimented flatly. “A modern day Jesus feeding the multitudes loaves and fish.”  “Hm,” she acknowledged, either missing his sarcasm or choosing to accept the praise in spite of it. “Pretty apt fucking comparison — ’cept I wouldn’t need a miracle. I would just catch enough fish in the first place.” 

John sighed, pressing his palms against the upper platform of the small rock wall nestled at the side of the security fence hugging the road they’d finally arrived at, rising just high enough anyone sufficiently athletic could hop over the barbed wire coiled along its top.  Perhaps it was a mistake to even lead a sinner like her into the heart of the compound. Perhaps he should rush over the fence himself, and leave her behind with her precious cooler full of fish.  If it weren’t for her potential to lure in the Ryes, he thought he would.  Instead, he powered through and held out his hand in offering for her to grab for leverage and climb up to join him atop the boulder.  She answered by shoving the hefty weight of the cooler into his abdomen, knocking the air from his lungs. “Hold this for me.”  “God,” he complained as he (shamefully, regrettably) followed the order on instinct, arms trembling and nearly giving out beneath the weight of the cooler before he could shift his posture and stabilize himself. “How the hell did you even lug this around for as long as you did?”  She shrugged, shoulders dipping down as her hands reached up to find holds at the rock and pull herself up to stand beside him on the small, uneven platform. “Fishing takes upper body strength,” she replied. “You’ll get there, if you ever manage to reel in something heavier than a cattail.”  “Well,” he said with a sneer. “If you could use some of that well-honed upper body strength to hop over the fence with expediency.” He could warn her to watch out for the barbed wire, but then again… “Once you’re on the other side, I’ll lower the cooler down to you so you can continue wasting time and energy struggling with it.”  She climbed a step further to rise higher than John, squinting in the dark to study the fence. “We have to hop a fence?” she asked, sizing it up. “You better not be leading me onto some fuckin’ top secret military base where they’re gonna shoot nosey trespassers first and ask questions never.”  “It’s a private community,” John replied, adjusting the weight of the cooler. If she didn’t move soon, he thought he would simply push her over the fence, and deal with the complaining. “They just value safety. But I have permission to be there. You need not worry about trespassing, so long as you’re with me.” It wasn’t like she would be easily able to climb back over the fence and run, once she was past it, anyways. And she wouldn’t have the lay of the land once she was inside its bounds, she couldn’t just go running off. He would have much more control over the situation — over her — the second she was over that fucking fence.  “Ladies first,” he offered with a strained purr and a nod towards the fence. “Unless you’d like to keep waiting around, until one of the bears the fence was built to keep out wanders up and mauls you to death.” “You think a bear would go after me?” She scoffed, flashing a single raised eyebrow and a lopsided grin. “You’re the one holding a cooler full of fresh caught fish,” she snorted, patting the lid as she brushed by him.  “What’s that old saying about bears?” she hummed with a teasing rise as she planted her feet at the ledge of the rock, bending slightly at the knees in a readied-to-jump stance. “Don’t gotta outrun ’em, just gotta outrun the twink?”  He prayed that barbed wire would catch her and slice open the exposed portions of her skin as she leapt to sail over its twisting spikes. No such luck, rather than agonized screams he was met with a mere mildly pained ‘oomph’ from the thud of her hitting the ground — landing on her feet, he was disappointed to see.  The little wretch had physical prowess, if no other admirable qualities.

sending those always no pressure no time limit tags out to @g0dspeeed @shallow-gravy @roofgeese @florbelles @josephslittledeputy @afarcryfrommymain @poetikat @just-another-wasteland-merc @simplegenius042 @voidika @captastra @confidentandgood @belorage @deputyash @blissfulalchemist @shellibisshe @thedeadthree @nightbloodbix @ladyofedens-blog @miyabilicious @quickhacked @jackiesarch @v0idbuggy @orionlancasterr @stacispratt @8bitpizzacoupons @strangefable @henbased @clicheantagonist @firstaidspray @corvosattano @strafethesesinners + like/unlike here to opt in/out of wip day tags!

#it’s like i’ve literally always said: she’s like the dr. house of fishing #(also not pictured here is that as she continues to miss every red flag about the Cult Stuff #she is still internally shaking like a leaf because she *has* deduced his practice area is property development) #lied to y’all btw. excerpt is over 700 words. choice is an illusion ’round these parts. #wip

[lordgrimwing]

Identity #01

Maglor flicked his wrist, sending another flat stone skipping out across the wide pond. He glared at the ripples in the murky water, then rubbed his lower back. Water lapped at his toes. The sun sat low in the trees still, sunrise not long passed, and the air was still gentle against the skin of his arms and face, though the warming rays promised another hot and humid day. He should head back soon, apologize for running off, and get about his chores, those his brothers hadn’t finished yet.

 He threw another stone, this one sinking with a plonk instead of skipping, and made no move to get up from the mossy log, half submerged in the mud. He didn’t want to go home, not yet, and maybe not for the next several days. 

He was fourteen! He could survive on his own in the forest for a few days. He knew which plants he could eat. He could use his knife to make snares or sharpen sticks to catch fish. It couldn’t be that hard. Besides, his Pa told stories about going on hunting trips all by himself when he was even younger. Maglor could definitely stay out here and not go home until he was ready.

But Ma would worry, and Pa would track him down before sunset, probably before midday if he was being honest with himself. They wouldn’t let him hide out here.

He rubbed his stomach. 

He’d eaten breakfast this morning, though he felt a little sick when he got up—he realized why after taking his turn at the outhouse. Now, his belly felt hollow and empty, almost like he was hungry again, but not quite. He also kind of needed to pee again.

He threw another stone, his supply running low.

The ground around the pond didn’t have many stones, but if he got up, he could probably find a handful more that might work for skipping. He thought about it but heard someone splashing through the shallow, mucky water behind him, the cattails rustling as someone drew near to his hiding spot. He stayed put.

“Figured I’d find you here,” Maedhros said, plopping down on the end of the log, the legs of his overalls wet and spotted with mud and pond debris. “You should really pick a new hiding spot if you don’t want me to find you.”

Maglor sighed.

His brother wrapped an arm around his shoulder but he shrugged it off.

“What’s wrong?”

He hurled another rock. It landed in the vegetation on the far side of the pond.

With a laugh, the older boy reached across him, took one of the stones, and skipped it all the way across the water. He was always so good at everything.

“You should have seen Celegorm and Caranthir trying to milk the goat,” Maedhors chuckled. Maglor usually milked the nanny goat but he hadn’t done it today. “I swear, they can’t do anything together. Cara was in tears by the end, and then the goat put her foot in the milk bucket and splashed it all over him!” 

Maglor forced out a stilted laugh when his brother elbowed him lightly, then grimaced and hunched forward, wrapping his arms around his middle.

Maedhros’ voice quieted, the merriment melting away. “Pa’s worried,” He murmured. “It’s not like you to skip chores.” He reached out again, but this time he rested his hand on the other’s lower back and began to rub.

Maglor still didn’t say anything, but he let him continue.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, listening to the wind rattle in the reeds. 

“Ma wanted me to give this to you,” Maedhros eventually broke the calm, reaching into the big pocket over his chest and pulling out a bundle of large magnolia leaves folded around something. He offered it to his brother.

Hesitating for only a moment, Maglor took it. “Why?” He finally asked, setting the bundle on his lap.

“It’s a salve. She said it’ll help you feel better if you rub it over your belly and back.” He explained simply.

“I feel fine!” Maglor snapped at him, trying to straighten up so he didn’t look so miserable. He grimaced and curled forward again.

Maedhros kept rubbing his back, unphased by the outburst.  

Maglor’s head fell forward, his black hair curtoning around his face. He felt like throwing up or maybe crying. “I don’t like this.” He murmured, a tear sliding off his nose.

“I can help,” Maedhros offered. “We could go back to the shore, or I could help you put it on out here if you don’t want to get up yet.” He stuttered over the last bit, like he’d been about to say something else but changed his mind at the last moment.

He didn’t have the energy to rebuild the thin veneer of stoicism he’d worn, so without further protest, he undid the button on his pants and untucked his shirt. “Thanks,” He said, still unable to straighten up. 

Maedhros stood, sinking a couple inches down into the mud. He squelched around the log. “I’ll do your back first,” He said.

Maglor held up the leaves and felt his brother’s fingers brush his palm as he took them, then the soft sound of the green covering unfolding.

“Oh,” Maedhros said with a little inhale of surprise. “It’s cold.”

Maglor hiked up his shirt, bracing himself. 

The first cool touch of salve was cold but he was in too much discomfort already to care about this latest bother. His brother’s hand, so much larger than his own even though they were only a few years apart, slid across his back, spreading the cool sensation around his flanks and up his spine. He relaxed, just a little, into the feeling.

After a few seconds, the cold spots began to tingle. 

Maedhros splashed around to the front of the log. “Should I do your stomach too?” He asked.

Maglor nodded. His back felt pleasantly warm now, almost as though he were laying on a sun-warmed rock or had a hot waterskin pressed against it. He held his shirt out of the way and sat taller as his muscles unclinched. 

A groan of relief escaped his lips as Maedhros spread the last of the salve over his belly, sliding his fingers under his pants to spread it as far as possible. Embarrassment colored his cheeks.

Maedhros just smiled at him, folding the empty leaves and stuffing them back into his front pocket. “It’s helping?”

“Yeah,” Maglor said shakily as he let go of his shirt and rubbed the last of the wetness away from his eyes. “I feel a lot better.”

“Great,” His brother squatted and rubbed his hands vigorously in the water, coating them in mud before rinsing them off and standing up. “My hands feel so weird.”

Maglor tucked in his shirt and did up his pants. He still felt a little sick, and the spot between his legs continued to ache, but nothing seemed as bad as it did just a few minutes ago. “Thanks,” He said, leaning against his brother when he sat down next to him.

Maedhros tentatively put his arm around him again, then gave a comforting squeeze when he didn’t object to the touch. There were surely chores waiting for them back at the house, but neither of them made any move to get up. 

A duck landed in the middle of the pond with a splash.

“I hate when this happens,” Malgor admitted, gently kicking his feet in the water.

He felt Maedhros rest his chin on his head. “I’d hate it too if I just randomly started bleeding. Though, I’d probably think I was dying and run to Ma rather than out here.”

Maglor tilted his face up and saw his brother turning red with embarrassment at his own words, blushing all the way up his ears. It made him laugh a little. Maedhros didn’t usually get flustered. “Ma says the longer I drink my teas, the less this’ll happen. I keep thinking it’s been long enough…” His voice trailed away.

They sat in silence as the sun steadily rose over the trees. A frog croaked somewhere in the cattails. 

Maedhros looked up at the bright sky. “Should we head home?” He asked.

“You can go.”

He looked at him with concern.

Maglor shoved at his brother’s shoulder lightly. “I’m okay,” He protested weakly. “I just need to be by myself for a bit.”

“Alright, see you later,” Maedhros stood, slowly slipping his arm from the other’s shoulder. He sloshed to the bank, pushing aside the plants growing nearly higher than his head. He looked back once, when he reached the edge, smiled, and then disappeared. 

Maglor sat on the log for several long minutes before standing.  

#sometimes you have to inflict a situation on a blurbo #maglor is going through it right now #and let maedhros be a good big brother #as he always is #trans masc maglor #and of course i had to add that part about Cele and Cara #the silmarillion #maglor #maedhros #old gods au #grimwing writes

[lilypadlys]

Reset

Summary: Rain and Aurora both find themselves overwhelmed by the hustle and bustle of the ministry. They’re able to find solace in each other’s company at the lakefront.

Ship: Rain/Aurora

Word Count: 1,463

Rating: Gen

Tags: Tooth rotting fluff, cuddles, The princesses of Ghost having some quality time together

AO3 Link

Rain basks in the cool, dark, quiet of the lake. Shortly after his summoning, Rain had discovered the lake adjoining the abbey. It quickly became his favorite place to escape to. Whenever the noise and chaos of the ministry got to be too much, Rain could inevitably be found at the waterfront. Dipping his feet in while sitting on the pier. Swimming lazy laps back and forth. Sitting at the bottom of the lake and watching the fish dart by. Anything really if it meant finding solace in his element.

Tonight, he simply floats on his back. He lets the current gently steer him around; not minding if he gets carried far from the shore. The more distance from the light and noise, the better.

He’s fallen asleep out here before like this; lulled by the hum of cicadas and the lapping of water. He’d be perfectly happy to spend most nights out here if it weren’t for how cozy cuddle piles with the other ghouls could be. Even tonight he longs for some of that comfort. However, his need for peace and quiet is stronger.

Suddenly another sound enters the night. Someone with a soprano’s range is singing. It’s a welcome addition to the symphony of night sounds. The voice works its way in and mingles with the hum of insects and splishes of the water. It’s melodic. Haunting and beautiful. Rain instantly knows its source. Aurora.

He raises his head and sure enough, the petite ghoulette is perched on the small dock off in the distance. Rain turns over and ducks underwater. He swims over quickly, resurfacing to the side of the pier. He does so just in time to hear Aurora belt out an almost angelic sustained note that echoes across the water.

“That was beautiful.” He hums.

Aurora startles and looks around.

Rain waves to her from the water and she relaxes. “Hi Rain. I didn’t realize you were out here.”

“Yeah, the lake is really nice at night. It’s quiet.”

“Oh, sorry! I didn’t mean to disturb you. I can go…” The ghoulette ducks her head shyly and makes to stand.

“No, it's okay.” Rain paddles over to the front edge of the dock and sets his arms on the ledge. “Stay?”

“Okay.” She nods with a smile, and settles back down.

“You can keep singing if you want.”

Aurora's smile widens.

Rain rests his chin on his crossed arms as he listens. Like before, her voice melds delightfully with the ambient sounds. It’s as if she’s conducting. The swish of cattails in the wind, the croak of frogs, and the push and pull of the water, following her lead.

Rain can’t help but want to join in. He hesitantly adds his own voice to the swell of sound. Aurora encourages him with a grin. Rain doesn’t sing much. At least not around the others; normally too shy too. But now, guided by Aurora, he finds a voice he didn’t know he had. When their duet comes to a grand finale of a preserved crescendo, Aurora laughs.

“I didn’t know you could sing!”

Rain shrugs, blushing. “Thanks.”

“You should join in with the backing vocals at practice. You’ve got an amazing voice.”

“Eh, I’ll stick to the bass. You, Cumulus, and Swiss have got things covered.”

“Hmm, alright.”

The two lapse into a comfortable silence. Aurora sits cross legged on the edge of the pier. Rain floats on his back again, but anchors himself with a hand on a dock support. They sit like this for a while, watching the stars move across the sky.

Rain can’t help but feel that despite the peace and calm, something’s missing. He wishes Aurora would fill the night with her haunting voice once more.

Rain breaks the quiet first. “So…you adjusting to life topside alright?” Aurora was a fairly new summon and had only been living at the abbey for a couple of months.

She takes a minute to contemplate the question; dipping a finger into the water and watching the ripples thoughtfully. “Hmm. It's really different from…down there. I think I like it. I’ve never had a pack before. Everyone is so nice and welcoming.” She pauses again before softly admitting, “It can get really overwhelming sometimes though. So many people and so much noise.”

Rain hums knowingly.

“I wouldn’t trade it for anything! But, sometimes I just need to get away.”

“Yeah. I feel that. When I first came topside it was a lot like that for me too. I love the others, but man can they be loud.”

Aurora giggles. “Like, Swiss is really funny but where does all that energy come from? Oh and Dew is constantly up to something. And Mountain? I share a wall with him. He snores like a hell hound.”

It’s Rain’s turn to laugh. “I don’t envy you. Oh, just wait til Lupercalia and Samhain. The whole abbey gets sent into a frenzy. I have literally slept out here some nights because the others were partying so long and hard.”

“Geez, I may have to join you.” She snorts. Then flushes. ”If…that’s okay with you.”

“Please. It’s not like I own the lake or something. The more the merrier.”

"Okay! I may take you up on that."

After another easy silence, Aurora suddenly exclaims, “Oh! You can see Mars really clearly tonight.”

“Huh?”

Aurora points at the sky. “See that red star?”

“Uh…oh! Yeah!”

“And that one,” She points at a different twinkling light, “is Saturn.”

“Do you like astronomy?”

“I adore it!” Aurora grins from ear to ear. “As soon as I found out the abbey had a library, I read all the astronomy books I could get my hands on.” She waves her hands excitedly as she talks.

Rain pulls himself up out of the water to sit on the pier beside her. “And what’s that one?” He points. “It looks like it’s blinking?”

“Hehe, that's an airplane. But that,” She moves his arm to indicate a different light. “is Sirius. The North Star.”

“What about that one?” He points elsewhere.

“That's the big dipper. See that little star there? And the ones next to it? Then the square they make at the end?”

Aurora continues to point out all the visible constellations as well as explain which ones will become visible once the season changes. She even knows some of the stories associated with the stars from many different mythologies. Rain is just content to listen. Even though he’d come out here looking for solitude and quiet; what he’s found in Aurora’s gentle presence is truly what he needed.

Aurora is interrupted mid explanation as she fights to stifle a yawn.

“You getting tired?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Let's head back then.”

“I can get back fine on my own. Don’t feel like you have to come in if you still want to sit out here for a while.”

“Nah, it’s getting late. I’ll walk back with you. Plus, if you're okay with it, I’d like to hang out with you some more.”

“Hehe, you sure? I must be boring you.”

“Of course not. I want to hear all about all the constellations that you haven’t told me about yet.”

“Okay! Do you want to crash in my room tonight?”

“Sure.”

The two ghouls make their way back to the abbey, Rain shaking himself dry before they enter. They pass the common room where the rest of the pack is still going strong, shouting and laughing over board games. Upon reaching Aurora’s room, the ghoulette flops on the bed.

Rain stops at the doorway. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna shower real quick.”

“Kay.” Aurora snuggles into her comforter.

Rain ducks into his room, and showers quickly. After drying off and changing into a clean tee and shorts, he heads back to Aurora’s room. When he enters, he finds her curled up in a nest of blankets, already fast asleep.

He quietly closes the door behind him and dims the lights before carefully joining her on the bed. Lifting the blankets up just enough to slide underneath, he lays next to her, his chest to her back.

The motion rouses Aurora and she sleepily rolls over so she’s facing Rain. She inches in close, pressing her forehead to his chest and tossing her arms around him. Rain wraps an arm around her back and nuzzles between her horns. Their tails meet and twine together.

Only in Aurora’s warm embrace does Rain realize just how strongly he’d been craving physical affection. He melts into her, letting himself relax. Aurora starts to hum a soft rendition of the song she’d been singing before, and Rain knows he’s done for. Together, the two ghouls drift off into peaceful sleep.

#ghost #the band ghost #rain ghoul #aurora ghoulette #nameless ghouls #ghost fanfiction #fluff #cuddles #tooth rotting fluff #Lys writes

[mossmarsh]

Intro/about me :)

transmasc bi mess. idk. he/they

pin of shame: andy bernard from the office is my least favourite character. not just in the office either. in general. i hate him with all of my guts and bones.

i'll mostly post about warriors, esp the mini writing project i have going. i'll often post refs for that project and maybe some writing in future. i will hopefully soon get to more posting about cattails, wof, stranger things, community and asoue :D

all my fandoms, ordered by how much i enjoy/consume their content

-community - troy/abed (lit best tv show ever created)

-a series of unfortunate events - count olaf

-the arcana - julian

-the office - pam or creed

-cattails (both og and wildwood) - krampy

-idk if this counts but blur

-stranger things - steve

-warrior cats - thrushpelt

-clangen

-amphibia - sprig

-wof - probably fathom

-gravity falls - soos

-simpsons - ralph

-wq

i welcome asks about any of my fandoms, i love to talk about them!

bands i like, best first. also listing my fav song from them, you should go listen to it!

blur - colin zeal or for tomorrow

the tragically hip - fireworks

barenaked ladies - the old apartment or if i had 1,000,000

the strokes - welcome to japan or machu picchu

david bowie - life on mars?

weezer (i'm sorry) - island in the sun

tv shows, with fav season!

community - 3

the office - 4

asoue - 3

stranger things - 3

amphibia - 2

gravity falls - 2

simpsons - anywhere from 3-12

thanks for readin, have a nice day! also prepare for tag wall lmao

#wc #warrior cats #erin hunter warriors #community #community tv #asoue #a series of unfortunate events #the arcana #the office #cattails #cattails game #cattails: wildwood story #blur #blur band #stranger things #clangen #amphibia #wof #wings of fire #gravity falls #simpsons #wq ae #wolfquest #tragically hip #barenaked ladies #bnl #the strokes #david bowie #weezer #troy barnes

[theothin]

"What the hell is the deal on Hylara?" compilation

Chapter 132: Drop

They’re small, almost a full head shorter than the average human, with wiry muscles visible under very little body fat. They both look to probably be in their twenties, although it’s difficult to be sure. Their eyes look unusually large, although that might just be because of their small heads; they have very long toes and large ears like the Khemin, although Hive and Max’s aren’t pierced for jewellery. They are… well, it would be wrong to call them bald, exactly, because a fine down seems to cover their entire bodies, thicker than normal body hair, thick enough to be clearly visible without obscuring the skin beneath. The hair on top of their heads is no thicker or longer than the hair anywhere else. Tal’s right; they do look kind of like aliens from some pre-Neocambrian story with a very limited special effects budget.

description of hylaran genetic engineering modifications

But their appearance isn’t the most shocking part. I’ve hung out with art house genepunks in university; these Hylarans look boring by comparison. No, the really shocking thing is that I know what they look like. The pair aren’t wearing space suits. I suppose they really meant what they said about believing the air to be non-toxic, because they’re just walking around in it. Their clothes consist of long silvery tunics with an odd iridescent sheen that must have Tal’s little zeelite heart all aflutter, and their feet are bare. They’re not even wearing eye protection. They are each shouldering what looks like an oxygen tank, and carrying them with the clear experience of people used to doing so. They’re each wearing a breathing mask, but not the airtight kind; they’re more like Captain Kae Jin’s mask, which is designed to give her extra oxygen without muffling her voice too much. Aside from a thick plastic-looking ring on their right ring fingers and a small pouch in their belt, they’re not carrying anything else.

out-of-colony attire

Chapter 133: Colony

Before we can respond, Max dashes forward and shakes our hands one by one, their thin digits dwarfed by our bulky space suit gloves. They speak into their own right hand to talk to us – those rings must have microphones and radio transceivers in them. “I’m so pleased to meet you all! I gotta say, I was pretty disappointed that Cattail here won radio rights; I cannot believe this is happening. The Courageous, appearing in our skies! And now you’re here! Come on, come on – let’s go home!” They grin excitedly, and I find myself grinning as well. “You should keep the helmets on,” Hive advises as we start walking, as if there was any chance that any of us would just decide to start breathing alien air when nobody else breathing is seems to have lived past age sixty. “There’ll be an infection risk until we’ve gotten our immune systems set up. Quarantine – I can’t believe we need to worry about quarantine. Or vaccinations.”

max tends to be more enthusiastic towards the landing party than hive

“That’s not the problem. This is a virus-free colony. People usually get their first viruses very young it helps train their immune system, but we don’t. Something completely benign for you could be deadly for us. The older people underwent a general vaccination booster program as they grew up, in expectation of your ship arriving, but after you were given up for dead it was considered a waste of resources. Over half of the colony had never been exposed to any virus or viral treatment at all before receiving your radio broadcast. Everyone’s undergoing treatment now, but it’ll take another week before we can be sure that we’re safe.”

why didn't they tell the courageous to wait another week before sending the landing party?

“We could have waited another week before coming down,” Captain Klees says, clearly trying and failing to not sound reproachful. “It would’ve been safer to wait until everyone had finished this treatment.” Hive shrugs again. “We’d need the doctor to run full pathology screens on you before direct contact could be considered safe anyway. That’ll take time. Shall we keep going?”

a question adin immediately raises, without much of an answer

And I already know it’s going to take longer than half an hour to get back. Because it took Hive and Max half an hour to get here, and they can move a lot faster than us, long toes moving them over the sand like they were made for it, even as they weave around the watery patches. They have a rapid conversation that I can’t hear, since it’s not over the radio, until Hive lifts their ring to ask us, “How many species of bees did your ship bring, do you know?” General puzzlement greets this question. Finally, Tinera asks, “Bees?” “Yes. Well, if you have a number for pollinators in general, that’s also good information. What would your estimate be?” After checking with the rest of us, Captain Klees says, “We don’t know. They’re all stored in the freezers. Next time we contact the Courageous, we can ask – ” “No, no,” Hive says hurriedly, “it’s not that important. I was just curious.”

hive wants to know the pollinator situation, but does not want the question to make it to the people still on the courageous

I glance over the barren landscape around us. Pollinators? Theory: they lost their insect species when they landed, or during transport, or perhaps to some disease afterward, it doesn’t matter. That would greatly limit plant ecology. You can feed four hundred people without pollinators, no problem; a population can be kept alive on algae, and there are many crops that either don’t require pollination or can be pollinated by hand and wind machines – but it does put serious limitations on what you can grow, especially if they want to populate the planet itself with plants outside the living domes. But if that’s the case, why not tell us over the radio before we came down? We could’ve brought some with us. Same as the vaccinations.

we later learn that they have no above-ground plants at all

there are a bunch of topics that they don't seem to want to mention in broadcasts to the ship, even while acknowledging them to the landing party. this was probably related to the earlier radio silence: the easiest way to avoid a topic is to not be communicating at all. but why?

I kick mud off my boot, and glance at the pair ahead of us, walking an alien world with no concession to the conditions besides an oxygen tank. Two liaisons for the suddenly appearing foreigners; one for the radio to the ship, one for the ground crew. After a sudden long radio silence on contact and a strange reticence afterward to tell the people coming to supply them what they actually need and where to deliver it. A cold sense of suspicion starts to pool in my stomach. Oh, no. We misread this so badly. We didn’t even consider this possibility.

aspen has an explanation for some of the oddities, but it's not complete

“So you guys have oxygen here, huh?” Tal asks, as if that’s a normal conversation starter. “Aspen says that means there’s aliens.” “I said that was the most logical explanation,” I add, in case I’m wrong and Tal has just made me look like an idiot in front of our new hosts. “Photosynthetic life is the only natural force that could be expected to generate this much oxygen.” The pair exchange a glance. “It’s complicated,” Hive says. “But pretty amazing,” Max adds. “I’ll show you guys around after Doctor Kim’s had a look at you. You’ll love it. You guys have been cramped up on a spaceship for years, right? This must be a great change of pace!

a strikingly vague response. is there life native to the planet, or not? both hive and max seem to have a reason to delay giving specifics, but why?

The space taken up by the colony is smaller than I would expect. Large enough to house the stated population very comfortably, but no obvious industry or vast tented farms. Many of the domes aren’t connected to each other, and as we get closer, I can see people moving between them, unprotected like Hive and Max. The domes themselves are whiter than the sand around, but not by much; they’re probably coated in mud or dust. More visible than the canvas of the domes is the gleam of metal some distance away – a metal door, it looks like, leading underground and wide enough to drive three trucks through. That’s probably where their power station is, if they lack the materials to build it safely aboveground. Nice and protected from any asteroids that do happen to land in the area. A network of power cables leads between the living domes and up the gentle slope where, some distance away, there sits a smaller, metal dome under a radio dish setup. Some parts of the setup look noticeably shinier and less weathered than other parts. Over some of the living domes, flatter roofs have been constructed to create slopes that lead into rainwater tanks. Some of the domes have repair patches on them or even, to my surprise, embroidery. Embroidery, in atmosphere-containing dome canvas! There’s not an airlock in sight. As I watch, a small child comes out of a dome with a jug, fills it up from a water tank, and goes back inside.

colony structure

I switch my radio to a private channel for just talking to Captain Klees. “Captain, we’ve seriously misread this situation.” “Misread how? Are we in danger?” “No. No, I don’t think anyone here would dare let any harm come to us. But I’ve figured out why they were so reluctant to tell us what they need, or accept our help.” “Why?” “Because they don’t need it. We expected to find a colony on the edge of their resources, struggling to survive long enough for help to arrive. We assumed they’d be low on dome canvas and their life support equipment would be wearing out. But look – they live in the air here. They drink the planet’s water. I don’t know how safe that is, exactly, but they clearly think it is; if anything, the most dangerous thing they’re facing right at this minute is the diseases that we might be carrying with us. I’m sure they want what we’ve brought; who wouldn’t? They don’t exactly appear to be swimming in spare resources down here, looking at the small size of their community. But they seem to be surviving just fine.”

aspen's reasoning: hylara doesn't have a pressing need for supplies from the courageous, therefore they're avoiding making requests because they're worried about getting their society supplanted

there's something to this - hylara is doing better than expected, and that's why they didn't need to be upfront about what they're looking for. but their resource situation is more complicated than aspen realized at this point, and that doesn't explain why they're so touchy about specific subjects

“Exactly. We came in as rescuers, but we’re not. From their perspective, we’re invaders. Foreign invaders who showed up on their shores with the openly declared intent to plant a population almost six times the size of theirs right in their home. We showed up with superior firepower, superior resources, and nowhere else to go but here.” “We don’t have firepower!” “Yes we do. They live in open-air tents and our entire task is to drop stuff from space. And now we’re a handful of representatives sent specifically to look at their colony and find out how to best fill it with our own. Is it any wonder that they went dark until they had to respond, and gave us a single liaison to talk to on the radio? Is it any wonder that they told but practically nothing that they didn’t have to? Is it any wonder that the people who live here do not want to talk to us?” We’ve reached the colony by this point. People who look and dress like our liaisons come out of their domes to stare at us. They all look curious. Very few of them look happy. Hive drives the vehicle right into an open-air tent containing several other vehicles and dismounts to plug a charging cable into it. Max grins widely at us and claps their hands together. “Alright! Let’s get you to Doctor Kim. Who’s first?”

most hylarans seem to be unhappy about the situation, with max as a rare exception

Chapter 134: Doctor

“So,” I ask over radio as Max leads me from the vehicle bay towards a nearby dome while the Friend tries to impress upon Hive the importance of disinfecting the vehicle bed we’d been in, “what’s this Dr Kim like?” “Oh, she’s great! A very… creative doctor.” “Creative?” Is creativity a trait we want in a doctor?

I don't even know what to make of this

Dr Kim has her visor down, probably reviewing my files or something, but flips it up when I come back and looks me up and down with a look so penetrating that I actually wish I had one of those hospital gowns they give you in hospital on Luna. For the first time in my life, I feel awkward about being naked. (Is this how Texans feel all the time?)

reviewing these chapters has me suspicious of every instance of aspen jumping to a conclusion. what was she actually reading?

“Then if you don’t mind, I’d like to run a nerve scan and see what condition the severed optic nerve is in. If it’s intact enough to attach to the donor eye, we can arrange to get that done. If not, we can discuss other options.” “… other options?” “No need to worry about that if the nerve’s repairable. Can you stick your head in the scanner? It’s over there.” I look at the big chunky box with a head-sized hole in it that she’s indicating. “Don’t I need to take a tracer or – ?” “This isn’t the stone age. The machine can scan just fine.”

this would be an extremely strange thing to lie about, but given that I don't trust kim's claims about the results of the scan, it's possible that she didn't even do a scan at all

“I’ll need some time to analyse this,” Dr Kim tells me, “but at first glance, I have to say, it doesn’t look promising. The doctors who did the extraction aren’t surgeons, are they?” “You can’t replace the eye?” “Probably not. Normally, with nerve destruction like this, I’d simply use a synthetic nerve, but synthetic nerves only really interface well with biological ones one-way. If this were a hand or a foot, that’s no problem; I could put the end of the nerves in the muscles themselves. But eyes are tricky. A lot of visual processing happens in the brain tissue in the back of the eye, and you don’t have that tissue. Replacing the eyeball won’t help, with this kind of nerve damage. My suggestion, if you don’t want to just live with the damage, would be bionics.”

possible, but not likely. she did recognize that removing the eye was a bit of a hack-job, but that doesn't mean she's telling the truth about needing a bionic eye. I'm not sure what she'd accomplish by lying about that, but it's not hard to imagine some benefit

“An artificial eye?” “Yes. Can program visual processing into the eye and connect it with synnerves, I need to look into it, but it should be fairly simple, medically. Are you interested?” “Um. Yeah. Honestly, any vision would be great. I don’t mind if the eye’s artificial.” “Excellent. Let’s run the other tests, and I’ll look into the eye issue and get back to you. Blow in that tube over there, please.”

she seems unusually invested in aspen agreeing to a bionic eye, more so than other topics

“We’re just doing a blood draw for the pathology tests today,” Dr Kim reminds me. “There’s no need to worry. This model’s a lot more advanced than what you’re probably used to; there’s no way for you to hurt yourself. Even if you struggle against the restraints, they’ll hold you perfectly still; you can’t break the needles.” She says this like it’s supposed to be reassuring. Me, I’m running calculations. An AutoDoc for a population of three hundred and ninety two people with three doctors. Doesn’t make sense, under normal circumstances, not with the maintenance involved. It does make sense if all those residents require a high level of medical care – maybe the colony gets sick a lot? Possibly, given that they’re using the planet’s air and water, which they probably started doing when their dome canvas integrity dropped and they ran out of replacement canvas, making keeping an isolated environment untenable. High cancer rate, or other health difficulties related to the planet’s chemistry? Possibly.

the mystery of the autodoc

“You must be relieved to finally be on a planet again, huh,” Dr Kim says as the machine takes my blood. “Pretty relieved. The ship isn’t in great condition.” “So I heard. Engine trouble.” “Among other things. It wasn’t designed to be in space this long.” “I suppose there’s a rush to get all the colonists down, then?” “I wouldn’t say a rush. There’s a certain level of urgency – sooner is better. But it has to be done right. Stable is better than fast.” “What do you mean by ‘stable’?” I turn my head to look at her. It’s an awkward angle, with my arms held fast by the machine. The blood draw has stopped, but the needles haven’t retracted. Dr Kim is watching me with that critical gaze she hit me with when I first stepped out of the shower. Watching carefully.

quite a power move. dr kim is clearly not enthusiastic about the colonists' arrival - and having the conversation in this way suggests there might be something she'd do if aspen gave a "wrong" answer. but what was she looking for, and what would she do?

“Of course. Our colony has adequate food and medical supplies for our expected population, but you plan to drop down… I believe you expect over two thousand survivors?” The needles still aren’t retracting. At this point I remember a fun little fact about how these AutoDocs work. The right arm is for blood draws, the left arm is for injections. I hadn’t even thought about it when Dr Kim told me to put in both arms, but… we’re only taking blood for pathology tests today, aren’t we? So why is there a needle in my left arm? “Uh, yeah. We think so. Of course, it’s hard to predict these things; the revival estimates haven’t been all that reliable, but – ” “And your here to see if our little colony can support them. And bring in whatever’s needed, change whatever’s needed, until we can. That’s your job, right?”

not that she's giving aspen a chance to say much. she seems more interested in talking at them

I’m getting a crick in my neck trying to look at her. I turn back to the AutoDoc. “We’re supposed to set up initial facilities for the colonists, yeah. We didn’t expect people to already be here, to be honest. The existence of your colony was a bit of a shock.” “Hmm. Your vitamin C and B-12 are a little low.” “Yeah, I forgot to get my vitamin implant redone before coming down.” “Citrus shouldn’t be a problem with our food, but I’ll give you a B-12 injection right now.” “No, it’s fine; I just need to eat – ” but she’s already activated the machine, and I hear the little pump inside inject the shot into my bloodstream.

she's definitely lying about that being what she injected, and it seems like it was specifically a response to aspen's comment here

“What are you plans for the colony?” “Plans?” “Economy. Governmental structure. Your captains are giving the orders, correct? Will the colonists be subsumed under this chain of command, or do you have another leadership structure in mind once everyone’s revived?” “That’s not… we haven’t really discussed it? I wasn’t trained for this job, I’m an emergency replacement. Captain Kae Jin would know better than me.” “Captain Kae Jin’s on the ship.” “Yes.” “Nobody who came down with you is on the crew manifest.” “There were a – ” “A lot of crew fatalities. I know. Anyway, that’s enough small talk; the machine’s done.” The needles retract, the supports release. I pull my arms our of the machine immediately and spin to face Dr Kim, who gives me a friendly smile. “Sorry that took so long, these machines can be a bit temperamental. You can go now. I’ll get back to you about the blood results and options for the artificial eye.” I barely stop to thank her before heading for my clothes. I can’t wait to get out of there.

I'm gonna stop here for the night since this is taking longer than expected, but. what the hell.

#time to orbit #time to orbit: unknown #ttou

[ruthytwoshakes]

update on the cattails-tf2 crossover! :D

Made some extra designs because I felt bad about it taking so long lol. My second passes for the mercs is going well and sprites should be ready by Friday if I plan my time correctly :) in the meantime, here’s some lore for these kitties! I’ll get into game mechanics on another post.

Merasmus is Glimmer’s cousin, who joined them on the trip to the Wildwood. Merasmus doesn’t plan to stay long, and is hostile towards you at first. They claim to be the most powerfulist wizard in the lands, but their spells and curses usually fall flat. They spend a lot of time in the museum, begrudgingly helping Glimmer out with organizing the place and with studying to increase their magical abilities. Once you become friends with them, they’re convinced to stay and now cast spells of good luck and fortune on you.

Hale is a dog, but they don’t let that stop them from trying to fit in! They were raised by the mountain domain after they were abandoned by their previous owners, and traveled with jag to the Wildwood. Hale is loud, energetic, and very strong. The younger cats love playing with Hale, but the older ones are much more hesitant to let them into their shops and such in fear that they’ll break something. They mean well! Just pretty clumsy. He loves you from the start, and as your friendship grows he’ll beg you to go on adventures together, maybe beat up some voidling cats together!

Penelope is Coco’s assistant, brought here by the Forest Guardian themselves when they saw how overworked Coco was. Penelope is always busy, and a bit dismissive when they first meet you. You’ll find them in Coco’s den helping them manage the colony, or communicating with the forest guardian. Penelope has a potential rival marriage with Firebug, (pyro) which I have some very cute ideas for lol. As you grow closer, Penelope will tend to rant about her job and start to tell you her jokes that she’s writing, maybe a cutscene with her having an open mic night at Embers shop?

Helen was a previous resident of the Wildwood before everything went downhill. They managed to barely escape with their life before the voidling cats arrived. They only become a resident after you complete the main story, but you’ll get the occasional cutscene or a dialogue mention of a cat spying from a distance as you go through the game. Helen is very standoffish and her intentions in the colony are unclear. You don’t even get their name until you get 4 stars with them. They appear to have some magical properties, leftover from when the land was corrupted, you’ll see smoke come out of their nostrils and their eyes will glow a bright green when they’re upset. And how old were they again? Quite the mysterious cat.

#tf2 #merasmus #saxton hale #miss pauling #tf2 administrator #cattails #cattails wildwood story #cattails fanart #daffys drawings