#Branch - Plant Part

[moaan]

Full-Bloom Weeping Cherry Blossoms and a Thatched-Roof House by Katsuaki Shoda Via Flickr: Canon EOS R6m2 + RF24-105mm F4L IS USM

[serpentface]

Do psychotropic drugs and/or ritual play a role in any of the blightseed cultures? A pretty broad question, lol

Yeah that’s a very broad question, the answer is about as much as it tends to play roles in real history. Alcohol is pretty ubiquitous (outside of cultures that abstain from intoxicants) and used for a variety of purposes, opioids are commonly used in some parts for pain relief or recreational purposes, stimulants (usually in mild, natural forms) are used to provide extra energy, and hallucinogens are most commonly used as part of a larger religious framework (rather than for recreational purposes). Any more elaborate answer kinda has to be case by case in a certain culture or part of the setting.

I'll just take this as an opportunity to talk about the one established sect that pretty much REVOLVES around psychoactive use. This is the Scholarly Order of the Root, which is a sort of mystery religion + elite community of scholars who currently occupy the Ur-Tree and its forest in the far southern Lowlands (southeast of Imperial Wardin, on the same land mass).

The Ur-Tree is the obligatory Huge Fucking Fantasy Tree (and its surrounding forest). It’s a mass of vegetation about a mile tall and almost as old as Plant Life Itself, its upper branches are primeval plants, which become more modern the nearer they get to the ground (and each 'level' holds tiny ecosystems, some containing descendants of LONG-extinct arthropods/other small animals). Its lowest branches and the surrounding forest are contemporary plant life, and all is connected and protected by an incomparably MASSIVE fungal mycelium network (which is itself a living god).

A lot of the Scholars' more secretive practices revolve around experimentation with substance use with the goal of expanding the Mind and transcending the body to fully connect to the Dreamlands, and they have a supply chain of traders and mercenaries called Rootrunners who traffic substances into the Lowlands. Most of their psychoactive use is in a very intentional capacity and not just like, for fun, but a LOT of them are just straight up addicted to cocaine (in the form of alchemically refined bruljenum, which is used for practical purposes of its stimulant effect during long hours of work).

All known psychoactives are desirable for experimentation (particularly hallucinogens), with each having properties that either allow expansion of the Mind, transcendence of the body, or outright divine communion. Their effects are logged in great detail and interpreted to form the basis of the Scholars' understanding of the natural world and reality itself.

The most important substance is Ur-Root, which is root matter from subterranean levels of the Ur-Tree that have both their own intrinsic psychoactive substances and a very, very high concentration of living god mycelium. The tree root contains DMT and the mycelium has its own wholly unique effects (being an actual living god). They alchemically refine it into a purer, more potent form, and use it to expand beyond the body and directly commune with the Giants, a group of entities they have identified as the only true gods.

An Ur-Root trip starts off with minor visual distortion, which turns into shifting fractals that slowly obscure the vision. Eventually the senses are entirely taken over by a 'tunnel' of rapidly shifting fractals and geometries. In a complete trip, the experiencer gets a sense that they have been pushed through a membrane and entered another realm, finding themselves in a distinct experiential Space.

At this point they may encounter entities which communicate to them in a language impossible to describe but wholly understood. These beings are understood to be the Giants, or at least aspects of the Giants that mortals are capable of comprehending (they often take familiar tutelary forms of the Mantis or the Snake, or appear resembling the same type of sophont that the experiencer is, all composed of ever-shifting geometries). The experiencer often feels a sense of unconditional and endless love from these beings, though the Giants may be more hostile and may appear in the form of the Trickster (usually a cultural figure regarded as malicious, be it an animal or otherwise) in a bad trip.

(^Up until this point, this has mostly just been a DMT 'breakthrough' experience ft. 'machine elves' and the like).

They are then removed from this space and returned to something that feels like the real world, but is nearly unrecognizable. They have a sense of rapidly moving through time, and will usually see 'the spires' towards the beginning, which just so happen to look like this:

(source + some context via Implication- the spires are exactly what this art is depicting)

The experiencer continues to move across an unfathomable amount of time, occasionally 'seeing' other such flashes of unfamiliar landscapes and creatures, and yet also being devoid of all their senses, the 'seeing' is pure, unfiltered experience. There is a sense of interconnectedness with all life, and that one has become the forest (or even Life) itself. The sense of time is wildly distorted, the trip lasts only about 5 minutes but feels like an eternity and is understood as literal hundreds of millions of years.

The experiencer has usually lost any remaining sense of Self and individual consciousness during this phase (in which case this time distortion is usually a neutral or even peaceful experience), but some retain a fraction of their identity, and find themselves trapped and conscious while experiencing what feels like eternity (which can be LIFE-CHANGINGLY distressing, even after the fact).

(^This latter part of the trip is the effects of the Ur-Tree fungus).

The trip ends with a sense of rushing through the ground and back up into one's body, at which point they will abruptly return to their senses and consciousness. The details are then immediately retrieved via interview and recorded in immense detail. The whole experience is understood as having been full comprehension of the Dreamlands, communion with the Giants, and then a tour through the act of creation.

This is done as part of the initiatory practice into the inner mystery-religion of the scholars, and as needed for study by high scholar-priests. It is not taken lightly, both as it is absolute communion with the gods and reality, and in that it can be a very, very difficult experience. People who have gone through this often walk away with a permanently shifted perspective, often in a positive and/or comforting way- a sense of interconnectedness with all life, a peace with the concept of death, seeing less of a point in individual ego and the concept of Self, and comfort in the sense of divine love they (may have) experienced. This heavily influences the philosophy of the Scholars and has had effects by proxy in the religious worldviews of the region.

Details of this experience are closely guarded, and initiates are given absolutely no prior knowledge and expectations for their trip. This is seen as a necessity- their naivety will allow for a true, unfiltered experience, and can be used to gauge whether they should or should not be accepted. Those that have a distinctly bad trip upon initiation may be assumed to have been 'rejected' by the giants and thus denied full priesthood, though this largely depends on How they interpret their distressing trip- those who identify this as a test and harsh lesson in a journey to enlightenment may be accepted (as this is how fully initiated scholar-priests interpret and handle their bad trips).

This inner priesthood is only a small fraction of the Scholarly Order, and its greater function is as a hub of education and repository of knowledge, and Scholar-trained doctors can provide some of the best medical care available in the setting ('best medical care in this setting' only means so much but it's pretty solid, relatively speaking). Only a chosen few Scholars ever get to commune with the Ur-Root, and most of the divine secrets revealed in the process are kept hidden (though they indirectly influence the politics and worldview of the entire order).

[kalosian-woods]

Clemont is just really funny in general i think. he's just like that, realistically theres so much to unpack about him;

he made an entire invention where he spoke to the mayor and was spread out across the town of the uni he was in which he got in at the age of maybe like 8.

he's a gym leader. he lost his gym to his invention,

there was the slightest chance he could've been mind controlled.

his bag is a bag of holding

he can't run

his entire mental state is the way it is because of a single mistake that wasn't even his fault

There's so much to unpack about him and the creators were like; "yeah anyways!"

okay but seriously, i think we as a fandom neglect the fact that if it wasn't for Clemont's anxious(???) paranoid(???) quick thinking(???) overly prepared(???) he probably he would've gotten mind controlled. like what was up with that.

-⚡(you can call me clem anon! its also just really funny and the fact that i've so far only exclusively talked about him makes it even funnier. electric anon is okay too !)

Clemont is his own bag of holding lol, there really is SO MUCH with him and I'm shaking you on the shoulders rn clem nonnie. Please. How is it possible that there is so much to him as it is. I need to study him under a microscope.

With the first point, that always made me laugh in a way lol. Him at the age of possibly eight created a power source slash Electric Pokemon recharger for a whole town/city. The mayor has noticed his efforts. This is before he is a Gym Leader, and this is the place where he made the promise to Shinx (a promise that he broke, not by any fault of his own, but by the very thing that brought them together in the first place).

The way he actually just straight up lived in Prism Tower, or at least that's how it felt, along with Bonnie. Their father is in the same city with a house but they won't bother with that and he doesn't bother them until they are MIA for at the very least a few weeks if not months. His reasoning for being a Gym Leader is to wield Electric Types from every region and become an Electric-Type Trainer that the world has never seen. The fact that he can be this ambitious with battling gets me (and also his learning from school carrying over c':)

His bag is also a mechanical marvel (not Volcanion, sorry). His Aipom Arm has only malfunctioned once (1 time), and he's easily able to lift Bonnie into the air with it. Also we never see this beyond the first ep but it has an inflatable airbag??? That is actually safe and comfortable to land on even with the everything in his bag as it is.

Even after the whole series and after everything they've ever went through, he still cannot run. Only one time he has ever sprinted ahead (in this realm/dimension) and that was to get to a festival about Zapdos of all Pokemon (and maybe that inventing fair as well??). No one comments on it beyond that one moment. He's also tried to make shoes to help him go up hills quicker but he never tried that one again lol (he forgot he even had it until Serena mentions the monorail, in which also, wow. this gang i swear).

That's actually one of the saddest parts (and something I can totally relate with). The way that we see him so happy and open with Shinx beforehand, ready to learn and be hands on and playing outside even with all the work that he had. And then we hear about how he lost his Gym, how his Pokemon disregard his words and his invention doesn't see him as worthy or strong enough, and it really is him just living out a nightmare of his own making in a way. His fear from back then keeps haunting him with the mistakes that he makes now, and even after meeting with Luxio again you can see the way he just... accepts that he's no longer wanted or forgiven. He's fine with it. He rather everyone have a better life than he does. Just,, he needs a hug. Lots of them.

HELP PLS you've said exactly what I've been thinking off this whole time!! Geez, I thought I was alone in thinking that we brush off whatever happened to Clemont in 'The Needs of Many!' like I get that we lose Greninja, but hello? He got straight-up kidnapped right in front of our eyes! He was going to be made into a superhuman (which has some very very worrying connotations beyond what is already happening). He too was blasted by the Mega Evo Energy, and even if he did resist the mind control, there's got to be other effects as well. If his friends weren't OP and reckless as they were he would've actually been carted away to who knows where and it would've been a matter of time until his preventive measures were found out. And the way he already had a counter against it, against the beam specifically (and for it to be able to work without any issues) is also so sad and worrying in a way?? It's definitely paranoia to me, it was very specific (more than usual, anyways), small enough to hide and easy enough for him to grab. Poor boy :(( I need to just sit down and think every time I remember this is an ep that exists because they just went ham with it, didn't they??

[lets-discover]

Kookaburras

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

When I die I want to be out in a tree pod. I want to be in a forest, I want a birdfeeder hung up on my branches, I want to become a home for little critters.

[amnhnyc]

Behold the pocket-sized western pygmy possum! (Cercartetus concinnus). One of the world’s smallest possums, this species typically weighs just 0.5 oz (14 g)—the size of an AA battery. This dainty marsupial is a nectarivore, meaning that its diet consists primarily of plant nectar. It inhabits treetops in forests throughout parts of Australia, using its long prehensile tail like a fifth limb as it moves from branch to branch.

Photo: gilliank, CC BY-NC 4.0, iNaturalist

[valiasims]

Wisteria Whisk - Part 1

Hey everyone!

First of all, I’m so sorry for being a bit later than usual. I mentioned earlier that I had a work emergency for two weeks, which left me with little time for this collection and even led to a bit of burnout. However, in the last few days, I've been working nonstop to bring this set to you. Thank you everyone for you patience! I appreciate how nice you all are! And in the meantime we're now over 17 000 followers! So thank you!

The idea for this set came from my experience creating Baker's Kitchen last year. At that time, I wanted to make a proper bakery set, but I was so excited to explore different styles that I postponed it. When I finished the Cozy Cabin Collection, I decided to start on a bakery collection, and then the news of the new pack came out—I thought it would be a perfect fit! So, I made sure to include objects that work well with the pack.

My main inspiration came from Japandi-style interiors with touches of nature. Initially, I wanted to create a floral composition, but it evolved into a set of wisteria, which inspired the name of the collection. The wisteria looks best outdoors; indoors, the shader isn't the prettiest, but it works like in-game plants and changes with the seasons (depending on the world you're in). In winter, it only has bare branches.

Since I made a full kitchen set I didn't have time exploring my ideas but I needed the islands for the bakery and I wanted to make cabinets so you'd have everything for a kitchen.

When the new pack came out, I took some time to study how the new objects work and noticed that the Sims team created specific displays for selling items in small businesses. It took me a while to figure out a way to make displays that would work with the new pack while also being compatible with retail stores. I saw that some modders made invisible small business items, which inspired me to create display trays. Anything you place on these trays will automatically be for sale. However, if you prefer a retail store setup, you can still use the larger displays without the trays.

Plus, all the display items in this set will help keep your food fresh for longer!

Sorry for being this long, I felt like I wanted to explain everything. Now I'm onto the next part as quickly as possible! I want to focus on the baker side of the shop now!

The Set Includes

Cabinet

Counter

Island

Refrigerated Display (2 sizes)

Refrigerated Display Case

Display Tray With Price Tag (Businesses & Hobbies)

Wisteria (7 variations including wall and ceiling)

-DOWNLOAD HERE- Public release on the 18th of April 6PM CST

[philodendronplants]

Amla - Indian Gooseberry

The Amla plant is all season bearing fruits and the tree is small to medium with a crooked trunk & spreading branches. This tree is known as the oldest popular medicinal plant.

In traditional Indian medicine, all parts of the plant are used, including the fruit, seed, leaves, root, bark, and flowers.

Amla's benefits are enormous such as boosting immunity, good for heart health, excellent source of vitamin C for skin & hair, great plant for diabetes, and high fiber content that helps for digestion & irritable bowel movements.Amla plant is low maintenance plant.

[moaan]

Japanese White-eye and PlumBlossom by Katsuaki Shoda Via Flickr: Canon EOS 5DS R + EF70-200mm F2.8L IS II USM

[make-this-into-a-pokemon]

Water wheel plant

Surprise! This plant is actually carnivorous (it eats bugs). They live in the water, eat in the water, and well it's like a water Venus flytrap. I think it could be interesting. Water-Grass type?

[strides-art]

Predecessor - Gardener

"Some sketches of the statues we found in the ruins south of town, as well as the markings underneath it. No clue if it is meant to be an artistic depiction of one of the Predecessors or if it is literal. There's nothing but near destroyed art in the ruins on the surface, and those Guardians don't let us get anywhere near anything that goes deeper than half of a meter." - Belias Ardwin, Head Archeologist of F.R.I (Deceased as of 5016u)

Posted using PostyBirb

[reasonsforhope]

Ancient redwoods recover from fire by sprouting 1000-year-old buds

Article | Paywall free

When lightning ignited fires around California’s Big Basin Redwoods State Park north of Santa Cruz in August 2020, the blaze spread quickly. Redwoods naturally resist burning, but this time flames shot through the canopies of 100-meter-tall trees, incinerating the needles. “It was shocking,” says Drew Peltier, a tree ecophysiologist at Northern Arizona University. “It really seemed like most of the trees were going to die.”

Yet many of them lived. In a paper published yesterday in Nature Plants, Peltier and his colleagues help explain why: The charred survivors, despite being defoliated [aka losing all their needles], mobilized long-held energy reserves—sugars that had been made from sunlight decades earlier—and poured them into buds that had been lying dormant under the bark for centuries.

“This is one of those papers that challenges our previous knowledge on tree growth,” says Adrian Rocha, an ecosystem ecologist at the University of Notre Dame. “It is amazing to learn that carbon taken up decades ago can be used to sustain its growth into the future.” The findings suggest redwoods have the tools to cope with catastrophic fires driven by climate change, Rocha says. Still, it’s unclear whether the trees could withstand the regular infernos that might occur under a warmer climate regime.

Mild fires strike coastal redwood forests about every decade. The giant trees resist burning thanks to the bark, up to about 30 centimeters thick at the base, which contains tannic acids that retard flames. Their branches and needles are normally beyond the reach of flames that consume vegetation on the ground. But the fire in 2020 was so intense that even the uppermost branches of many trees burned and their ability to photosynthesize went up in smoke along with their pine needles.

Trees photosynthesize to create sugars and other carbohydrates, which provide the energy they need to grow and repair tissue. Trees do store some of this energy, which they can call on during a drought or after a fire. Still, scientists weren’t sure these reserves would prove enough for the burned trees of Big Basin.

Visiting the forest a few months after the fire, Peltier and his colleagues found fresh growth emerging from blackened trunks. They knew that shorter lived trees can store sugars for several years. Because redwoods can live for more than 2000 years, the researchers wondered whether the trees were drawing on much older energy reserves to grow the sprouts.

Average age is only part of the story. The mix of carbohydrates also contained some carbon that was much older. The way trees store their sugar is like refueling a car, Peltier says. Most of the gasoline was added recently, but the tank never runs completely dry and so a few molecules from the very first fill-up remain. Based on the age and mass of the trees and their normal rate of photosynthesis, Peltier calculated that the redwoods were calling on carbohydrates photosynthesized nearly 6 decades ago—several hundred kilograms’ worth—to help the sprouts grow. “They allow these trees to be really fire-resilient because they have this big pool of old reserves to draw on,” Peltier says.

It's not just the energy reserves that are old. The sprouts were emerging from buds that began forming centuries ago. Redwoods and other tree species create budlike tissue that remains under the bark. Scientists can trace the paths of these buds, like a worm burrowing outward. In samples taken from a large redwood that had fallen after the fire, Peltier and colleagues found that many of the buds, some of which had sprouted, extended back as much as 1000 years. “That was really surprising for me,” Peltier says. “As far as I know, these are the oldest ones that have been documented.”

... “The fact that the reserves used are so old indicates that they took a long time to build up,” says Susan Trumbore, a radiocarbon expert at the Max Planck Institute for Biogeochemistry. “Redwoods are majestic organisms. One cannot help rooting for those resprouts to keep them alive in decades to come.”

-via Science, December 1, 2023

[rebeccathenaturalist]

This is such a cool story! Conservation of endangered species cants heavily toward animals and then plants, but you rarely see efforts to try to help endangered fungi, lichenized or otherwise. Part of this is because many fungi are very difficult to propagate, particularly those that have mycorrhizal relationships with plants, and so the best way to save them is to protect critical habitat for those species. Moreover, fungi that produce fruiting bodies like mushrooms are only really easy to observe during their relatively short fruiting season, so unless you're searching the soil or other substrate for DNA traces, your window to actually survey rare fungi is quite short.

But lichens are different. They persist year after year, and so are easier to observe. Growing them is another story, though; most people who give it a try put fragments of a given lichen on a favorable substrate in a controlled environment and hope for the best. However, success is relatively rare in the long term as lichens are quite persnickety about their growing conditions.

So what about just moving the whole substrate? If you have lichens that conveniently grow on tree branches you could cut off piece of branch and then attach them to branches of the same species of tree elsewhere at the same height/sun exposure/humidity level, and hope that the lichens continue to produce spores that then find favorable substrates locally. But it's tougher to chip off chunks of rock and move them to new places, especially if you don't want them getting kicked around.

So it's really fascinating that these conservationists tried out all sorts of different glues to find the most lichen-friendly ones, and then glued them to new substrates in old parts of their range in the hope that they'll use their rhizines to attach themselves to their new homes. It shows how much detail we have to go into in habitat restoration and species conservation to try to replicate the best conditions for a given species to thrive, and how we can't just offer degraded habitats to our wildlife of various sorts and hope that they find it acceptable. Lichens like various Parmelia species or Evernia prunastri may not be as picky in their substrates, but for a rarer species like Gyalolechia fulgens, our task is to give them their Goldilocks substrate--just right. And sometimes helping them along involves a little bookbinding glue.

[ancientcharm]

Pompeii. New discoveries

A bird of prey stands out in the upper part of the lararium. The raptor, which can probably be identified as an eagle, holds a palm branch in its claws. In the lower part, the scene consists of two snakes facing each other which frame an altar with a fluted circular shaft on which offerings are placed. From the left, it is possible to distinguish the following features:  a pine cone, a raised element that supports an egg, and what appear to be a fig and a date. The background of the scene is filled with two bushes with lanceolate leaves and red and yellow berries on which three sparrows move about. Several interesting finds were discovered inside the niche: ritual objects, left as part of a last offering before the eruption that destroyed Pompeii in AD 79: an incense burner in achromatic clay with missing pieces dating from antiquity and a lamp, both displaying clear signs of burning. Laboratory analyses have made it possible to identify the remains of twigs of aromatic plants, while two parts of a dried fig were found behind the two objects. Two strips of coloured marble were discovered on the flat top of the altar together with a third element, presumably made of red marble, with the depiction of a face ascribable to the Dionysian world, probably a Silenus.

Text from the article by pompeiisites.org (October 2024) Photos provided by pompeiisites.org

[h109zone]

mess with my woman? mess with me—headcanon

synopsis. you were invited to an event and you brought your boyfriend with you. entrusting your boyfriend's social skills, you branched off to catch up with your best friend, tara. this motion, however, ended up going against your favor.

pairing. multi (seperate) x reader

words. 4.7k

warning. objectification, sexism, some mentions of body parts (ass and boobs) but it is never super specific, threat of violence, mentions of weapons, suggestive (xavier and caleb), use of evol (zayne and caleb), psychological torture, public humiliation, creatively uncreative insults towards a male colleague, implied death, open ending, slight ooc, not proofread**

requested. anon

a/n. my first request (˶ˆᗜˆ˵) i hope i did it justice, and did as told !!! i kinda went overboard, with some having a dark ending, but regardless hope you enjoy it.

minors do not interact. re-read the warnings before reading, as after clicking “keep reading”, i am not responsible for the media you consume.

You and your boyfriend step out of the vehicle as you arrive at the annual ceremony that is held by the Hunters’ Association. It is a highly prestigious and acclaimed event, and you two were dressed to the nines with your elegant long dress and his sharp suit, armored with accessories and hidden weapons, and arms wrapped around each other’s midriff to signify the status of your relationship. 

You were both greeted with a welcoming champagne, which you two gleefully took, and casual salutations from guests who knew you specifically. The ball was extravagant, with high-contrast elegance emanating in the room. You hear chattering, pompous chuckles, and rumblings of clinking glasses—a mere opposite environment of that of your workplace. 

You flaunted your boyfriend like he was a human version of a one-of-a-kind vintage car—you would feel bad for the objectification, if only for the fact that girls and some guys tend to flock to them to get to know this mysterious man in your arms. Luckily for you, but unfortunately for them, he only has eyes for you, and he pays no mind to others who don’t carry your essence. 

After the slight cordial exchange with acquaintances, you spotted Tara from afar, her youthful smile brightened as she jauntily waved her arms signaling for your arrival. You smiled back and nodded at her before you turned your attention towards your boyfriend and your male colleague, whom you happened to stumble upon. 

“Hey, babe, Tara’s calling out for me, you don’t mind if I step away?” Your request was a rhetorical one, as you knew he trusted you with his life. He gave his affirmative answer and nodded before you planted a chaste kiss on his cheek and parted ways. 

His eyes were on you as you walked up to Tara, ecstatically greeting each other. The male colleague in question looks at your boyfriend with a scoffing expression. The endearing and caring eyes shifted into a scowling confusion as he looked back at the man next to him. 

“Is there a problem?” He asked pointedly. The man held your boyfriend’s shoulder as he began chuckling. 

“Oh, no, my good man, there is none at all,” The man babbled before he chugged the remainder of his drink. The drunken state is very prevalent, if not in expression, then in his wording. “I’m just wondering how a distinguished gentleman like yourself bagged her? I know you can’t handle all of that juicy ass…”

Rafayel.

Rafayel choked on his drink after he heard the astonishing yet abhorrent language your male colleague had uttered. 

“Excuse me?!” Rafayel exclaimed after coughing up the last drink, looking at him with distaste, but clearly, the man still hadn’t gotten the memo. 

“Oh, please, we both know you got with her because of how hot she is!“

“Stop! Stop!” Rafayel roared while lifting his hand at the man’s face to signal him to stop talking. He cannot believe the words he is hearing, a male colleague, someone whom you work with, speaking about you—his muse, his future wife, his future mother of his children—in this shallow fashion. 

“What gives you the right to speak about her right to my, her boyfriend, may I add, face?!” Rafayel inquired avertingly, eyes reddened in fury. The usually smiley and soft artist has turned into a protective lion ready to attack at any moment. 

“Look, I presume you’re fresh meat right now and you don’t deal with her on the daily, but I’ll have you know that if it weren’t for that 10 out of 10 face and ass, you wouldn’t bat an eyelash at her.” This man has gotten himself a death sentence. Rafayel slammed his glass onto the table, causing a domino of heads turning towards him and the human scum in front of him jolted in his place.

“You motherfucker—”

“Hey, Rafy!” You barged in between, almost in cue, before his outbursts took over. The tension rose, and it was evident by your colleague’s petrified yet defensive stance that your usually calm and collected boyfriend snapped. 

“Is everything alright?” you asked, concern laced in your tone, paying mind only to your boyfriend. Rafayel could only do a languid yet short breathing exercise before smiling at you, anger still written in his face. 

“Yeah, fabulous, I was just getting to know your colleague,” his smile looking painful and petrifying. He wanted to escort you and not witness his wrath, however, his conscious was gnawing at him. He refuses to allow this brain-eating amoeba to roam around this prestigious hall contentedly, without paying his dues.  

“Hey, my absolute goddess, and anyone willing to weigh in on the gossip, preferably a boss or higher-up,” Rafayel dramatically announced while wrapping his arm around your waist. You looked at him, brows scrunched in confusion at Rafayel’s sudden behavior. What on earth is this man doing? 

“Do you know what this scum has been saying behind your back?” Rafayel pointed at the man who cowardly shrank himself, “You will not believe the absolute filth he has uttered in the short second I’ve dealt with him…”

And there, Rafayel turned the affluent event into a one-sided roast session, your jaw dropped, both in awe and disgust, whilst everyone let out a string of appalled gasps and whispers. Rafayel ripped him a new one while the man tried his best to defend himself. 

“It was a joke! I-I didn’t mean to!” The colleague stammered before looking at you in sheer patheticness to save face, not an ounce of remorse, “Please, Ms. (l/n), you know I was only—”

The gasp from the audience got louder as his deplorable voice was replaced by a slap from you. Rafayel could only scowl and hold you closer as you both watched the pathetic man stumble from the hit. 

You tugged on Rafayel’s arms and pointed at the door, “Let’s go, Rafy.”

“Let’s go, cutie,” He said, his sweet voice directed to your ears contrasted with the threatening eyes directed towards your male colleague, potentially ex, before turning around and departing from the party. 

The rest of the night spent with the two of you laughing at the entirety of the situation, poking fun at the man and your boyfriend’s love for the theatrics. Rafayel assured you that the claims that the man has stated were utter bullshit and that his love and enamor towards you goes beyond looks and bed skills, meanwhile you assured him that you were never close to that specific colleague. 

It was a fun time, and Rafayel could not wait for the updates to come when you return to work.

Xavier

Xavier’s polite smile has never dropped so quickly until now. 

He has been aware of this specific colleague since he also encounters him every now and then, and has seen you interact with him. He doesn’t like how he tries to get close to you, however, you always told Xavier to tone down his jealousy in the work field as the relationship is strictly business, and that your eyes are reserved towards him and him only. He believes you one hundred percent, yet he wishes he had done things to get that colleague away from you. 

“I beg your pardon?” Xavier’s words were as sharp as a knife, as his eyes painted a displeasing anger that was hidden beneath the surface. The drunken man in front of him paid no mind and began rambling. 

“C’mon, you can be honest with me,” The man slurred as he leaned in and whispered with a devious smirk, “She had a tight one and was a good fuck, am I right?”

The vulgar words sent shockwaves to Xavier, resulting in him pushing the man in front of him, causing the brain-eating amoeba of a man to stumble back into the table nearby, making everyone gasp and look at the commotion. You turned away from Tara and ran up to Xavier as you spotted him wielding his sword. 

“Xavier!” You called out as your boyfriend walked up to the cowardly man below him, threateningly. You stood between the two men, but you fully faced Xavier as you placed your hands on his arms to prevent him from hurting himself, the man, and possibly others. 

“Apologize to her,” Xavier said, pointedly and terrifyingly calm. You glanced at the man before looking back at your lover, “What are you talking about?” 

The man stood up as he lifted his hand, defensively before opening his mouth, “I just told him how it is, but your man is a pussy.”

Xavier clenched his fists, ready to charge, yet you stopped him by simply glancing at him. You had that power with him; he could have all the weapons and defenses, but nothing’s more potent than your expressions and glances. You squinted your eyes in suspicion before crossing your arms. 

“And what is it that you’ve said that got him like this?!” You coldly said, knowing your boyfriend has his moments of irrationality, but he’s not one to always resort to violence—he doesn’t act this way unless his and/or your life has been threatened. Xavier stood behind you as he held your hip, silently reminding you that he had your back, even if you don’t need it. 

“That he was with you for a good fuck,” He said in a “matter-of-fact” manner. 

The entire audience was flabbergasted by the confession, how callous he seemed, as if he had just uttered a common fact. Xavier was embarrassed on your behalf; he was ready to charge at him, and he couldn’t stand how you were stopping him. However, you showed him something that is possibly more brutal than Xavier’s sword covered with that scum’s blood.

You wheezed. 

You let out a hysterical laugh, leaving everyone, including your boyfriend and the colleague, confused. The colleague scowled at your laughing outburst. 

“Why are you laughing?!” He exclaimed angrily, fist clenched at the sudden reaction. You proceeded to laugh before you wiped your tears as you attempted to catch your breath.

“Is that what it is?” You spoke, the smile you’re showing on your face was that of menace, “you’re mad that he’s with me for a good fuck and not you?” 

Your voice heightened like you were baby talking, which caught everyone off guard, “are you mad that I get to fuck your coworker and have me call out his name instead of yours? Mad that you aren’t in his position?”

Xavier turned red, unexpecting your bold moves, but you kept going with your speech.

“Mad that he gets to see me at my full glory while you’re only limited to my uniform? Mad that he gets to use his hands to make me feel good while you can only use one hand for yourself?” You carried on taunting while the colleague began seething as you kept going, a smirk still exhibited on your face.

“That’s it!” He exclaimed before attempting to lunge at you. Xavier stood up straight on defense almost immediately, yet you fearlessly caught the man on time and proceeded to kick him in the balls. The dirtbag let out a painful groan and crouched down before falling while everyone, minus you and Xavier, in the hall let out their winced “oohs”. 

You and your lover looked down at the pained man with a mirrored, cold glower, your glares threatening him to stay away from the two of you. Xavier absent-mindedly held your hand, dragging you away from the commotion as you held him even closer to you.

You two left the hall, going down the steps of the building hand-in-hand. Xavier took notice of your sudden quiet demeanor, making his eyebrows knit in wonder.

“You’re quiet…” Xavier softly spoke as you two walked up the parking lot, “How ironic, after the stunt you’ve done, I wouldn’t guess that this would be the aftermath.”

You sighed, “I’m sorry for airing out our private life in front of our entire coworkers—”

Your apologetic speech was interrupted by Xavier pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss was filled with fervent reassurance as his arm was tightly wrapped around your midriff while he slightly nipped at your bottom lip. He pulled away, his body still close to yours as his hand caressed your cheek, his soft features created an oxymoron with the devious smirk. 

“Don’t apologize, now everyone knows not to mess with you…” He pulls away as he walks to the car.

You were sure you were going to give him the best night of his life to salvage the disastrous night.

Zayne

He simply blinked at him with an expressionless face. His eyebrows knitted in utter bemusement, his neutral expression juxtaposed with his agitated inner psyche.

 Zayne prayed that what he had just heard was a figment of his imagination and it’s that his possessive side deluded him into thinking that your male colleague said the most objectifying statement he has ever heard about his lover, and he was a young doctor whose no stranger with people from patients to receptionists to even interns and medical students attempting to seduce him for their own greater good, so he knows a thing or two about this subject matter—which is nothing and slightly less worrying than your case.

“I see you’re a man of a few words, don’t worry, I can see your intentions right through you,” the man confidently—wrongly as well—gloated, “Now, I know (y/n) for some time and lemme tell ya, her hunting skills may not be all that, but those cherries of her’s make it all up” 

Zayne wished he were deluding himself right now, and the words the man was saying weren’t real. He maintained with the stoic stance, disgust started to crack behind the mask, as the man proceeded to say the most awful thing any human being has ever uttered. 

“I mean, you’re one lucky bastard for bagging her, because having a girl with tits like that? Phew, got me acting up…” 

For someone who can’t handle alcohol, Zayne cursed himself for not being able to get drunk and forget this abhorrent exchange. While he remained motionless, his hand started to shake in fury as he brought his drink to his lips. The douchebag still proceeds in his demeaning and depersonalizing speech, while your boyfriend averted his eyes away from him. He was getting annoyed, and he thought that enough was enough. 

Mid-speech, the pig disguised human began shivering all of a sudden. He started to rub himself to keep himself warm, while Zayne was unbothered by his reaction. 

“Phew, is it cold in here? I didn’t think it’d get this cold,” Energy sucker of a human shuddered with his words as he looks at the towering doctor, almost looking for any struggle. He simply shrugged and swirled his remaining drink.

“I don’t think it’s cold.” Zayne finally spoke up for the first time, letting his ominously calming voice be heard. It is unknown if it was the temperature of the room or his voice, but the man next to Zayne started feeling severely shivery. 

“H-hey, i-it’s g-getting s-sup-per c-c-cold now,” the shiver in his body and voice turned into a rapid quiver as the man attempts to warm himself by rubbing his arm up, fails miserably. Zayne once again shrugged and paid no mind. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t feel cold.”

Zayne smirked as he sensed the man’s body begin to whiten from the cold. The mole rat began groaning as icy surfaces began to protrude out of his neck as he knelt in agony, while the ice evol holder could only look down with him, apathy drawn in his face. If he weren’t in a public area, he’d have icicles penetrating his skin, but he knows that won’t be appropriate. 

However, the show must go on, as everyone took notice of the man’s aching state, so the empathetic doctor was brought back. As Zayne kneeled and pretended to tend to him, you ran over to the two individuals on the ground, and you noticed your boyfriend’s antics. To a stranger’s eyes, they simply think it’s just an off-duty doctor tending to a struggling victim, but to you, you see Zayne’s purposeful languid motions and his icy gaze that mirrored his evol, which was evidently in use as he tortured the man in front of him. You walked through the crowd up to them and crouched down to their level.

“What happened?” You asked, shocked written in your face. Zayne gave you a small knowing smile, “Nothing, just an injured drunkard, get in the car, we’ll go home after this.”

Straight to the point, yet vague. You knew he was lying, and you knew that he wouldn’t say anything in front of everyone, so you obliged and left. ‘He better have a good explanation for this,’ you thought to yourself. 

As soon as your figure was gone and the crowd scattered, Zayne roughly held the struggling man by the collar as he huskily whispered in his ears.

“Listen here, because I won’t repeat this. If you so ever talk about my girlfriend, or any girl at that, in this fashion, I promise you, your visit to hell will be sooner than expected, are we clear?” His calm tone sent shivers down the scum’s spine in fear as Zayne’s threats were sounding more like promise than a threat. 

Zayne pulled away, his glacial gaze waiting for a response. The man beneath him vigorously and cowardly nodded before Zayne let go of his collar and dusted himself off.

“You seem to have a mild hypothermia, based on your lower than normal body temperature, I suggest you go home, having something warm and rest with a heater on, so you’ll rejuvinate yourself… for future events” Zayne announced the diagnosis like he didn’t just threatened his life… as if his diagnosis isn’t any less menacing.

Needless to say, you have to thank Zayne for expelling bugs from your job.

Sylus

His brows raised in astonishment. Is this the work environment that you dare to gloat over him for? A man who can just objectify and reduce women to sex objects? Sylus was not a man of high morality and ethics, but even he knows his limits and disdain towards certain ideologies, and it’s the poor excuses of humans like him that will always leave a bad taste in Sylus’s mouth. 

“Hm,” Sylus mutters as his face sours while cocking his head to the side. Despite the disinterest shown in the towering white-haired man, the blobfish proceeded in his objectifying tirade. 

“I mean, what does a man of high status like yours need a girl like (y/n)? She is nothing but a pretty face and body, I would know, I work along with her,” The man obnoxiously laughed and hit Sylus’s side, making the red-eyed man grimace even further. 

This man has a certain death wish, and Sylus is not afraid to fulfill it, but, infuriatingly, patience is the best tool to execute this, and he knows this all too well. He can’t be too rash with his decision, especially when he’s Skye right now, a man who runs a family business selling fruits, not Onichynus, the leader of the N109 Zone and the most feared man. 

It’s a good thing that you’ve convinced him that Mephisto should be within your radar, because as soon as he gives the signal to the mechanical crow to bring in Luke and Kiean, it's go time and brings out his love for art and theatrics. 

“Oh, is that what you think?” His face shifted instantly, a smirk crossing his arms. The man was too excited to affirm his statement with how quickly he nodded, which seethed Sylus, but he could never showcase it right now. As the man carried on ranting, Sylus nodded before tapping on his ear as a form of discreet scratching.

That maneuver triggered the hidden earpiece you and Sylus had, and there you can hear Sylus’s torturous and abhorrent conversation with your colleague, whom you have foolishly praised. You have aided him in multiple missions and provided resources for him to better himself in the field, and now this is thanks you get? If you’re a nagging bitch, then you’ll show him what a nagging bitch would do.

Tara was absentmindedly ranting, before you interrupted her and gave her an excuse that “Skye” needed to go back home urgently. Tara said her farewells, and you two exchanged hugs before you said goodbye to the rest of the group. 

You already knew what Sylus was going to do, he didn't have to tell you his plan. you already had him memorized like a book of incantation, just as he is to you, and with the way he intentionally turned on his earpiece to make you listen to the horseshit your so-called “trusted colleague,” you knew he was done for. 

“Hey, Skye,” You gleefully returned as you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend’s midriff, resulting in his automatic hold on you while his gaze falls on you with wonder in his eyes—this was not an act, the action of having you physically close to him can make him falter into his knees for his adoration is bigger than what the universe can carry, hence the impromptu mission at hand.  

“Oh, hey, sweetie, such perfect timing, we were having such a riveting and intellectually stimulating conversation, isn’t that right?” Sylus said with his iconic smirk, discreetly sarcastic. He had placed the man in front of you in an uncomfortable position, with his tight-lipped smile and slight nod. Oh, how funny sexist pigs can be. 

“Oh, is that so? What were you talking about?” You feigned innocence and curiosity as you looked at the two men.

The man stiffened as he nervously stammered, “oh, there’s no need to know, it’s, y’know… men stuff.”

You nodded with a squint as you held Sylus closer, silently signifying to him that it’s done and the cue to be leaving, but you weren’t going to leave in silence.

“Yeah, I’m sure talking about me being a nagging bitch is peak masculinity.” You sneered before you turned your back, dragging Sylus, and you two departed. The pig’s colors melting away from his face was priceless, which both of you fought hard not to laugh and ruin the image you two tried to maintain until both of you’re out of sight.

“You’re not a bad actress, Miss Hunter,” Sylus left a teasing yet genuine comment as you two walked on the sidewalk. Sylus purposely parked his car away for anonymity and safety, so it is a bit of a walk. 

You chuckled, “You’re not so bad yourself, I was almost convinced that you agreed with everything he said with how you kept egging him on,” you teased back, making Sylus visibly cringe at the thought. 

“Please, it was more torturous listening to his voice, let alone pretending to hear him out,” He spat while rolling his eyes, making you chuckle before you wrapped your arms around his muscular biceps. Despite everything, the lengths that Sylus takes to keep you safe and protected make you fall for him, and after knowing what he’ll do to that guy after he takes you home, it’s safe to say that Sylus is the only man you’ll put your 100% trust in.

Caleb 

He could’ve sworn he heard a record scratch being played because of what he just heard. No, no, that was the chip acting up, there are side effects with the chip, he could’ve possibly misheard—

“Yeah, and I bet that pussy is tight,” Your colleague paused to sigh, “How does it feel to bag a baddies and manage to nuzzle yourself in that?”

Oh, he has chosen death, for sure. Caleb felt his eye twitch as he noticed the man eyeing you like a predator would a prey. This has to be some cruel prank made by you; THIS poor excuse of a human is your trusted colleague? The one you once mentioned that you trust him with your drinks after him? This scum was almost placed at a same level as him—your devoted, loving boyfriend. Caleb doesn’t know if he should get offended that you’ve placed this nobody at the same level as him, or direct his entire anger at him. 

He figured the forth should be dealt with later and handle the latter firsthand.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Caleb switched off his charismatic and sociable persona and placed his cold colonel side up to the surface with the bluntness of his tone. The cuntleague jolted in his place, noticing the unsatisfactory reaction coming from the colonel.

“C’mon, Caleb was? You know I was fucking aro—”

“It’s Colonel Caleb to you,” He sternly spoke, “And I don’t want you jeering around, talking about my girlfriend this way.”

The man in front of him didn’t take him seriously, laughing straight at Caleb’s unrelenting stance. Oh, he’s sealed his deal; he better not, god forbid, have any loved ones. 

“Alright, Colonel Caleb, whatever you say, buddy—” The heckler wanted to give your boyfriend a pat on the shoulder, only for it to levitate above the broad shoulder. The man notices the odd phenomenon, trying to pull away but to no avail, he struggles as he tries to get his hand back to its natural position. Caleb could only scornfully look at him as blue and red rays emanated around him like an aura, his lips curled in disgust.  

The man began pleading with the colonel to let go of his hand, anticipating his mercy of his hand. Caleb waited as he stared down, before elevating his hand away just slightly, only for the man’s hand to remain static in front of his face. 

“Hey, what are you doing—” His mouth shut due to the pressure of his jaw shutting him, thanks to Caleb’s evol, and then dragged him far away from the crowd. What occurs next makes the man regret what he uttered; the psychological and physical torment that Caleb inflicted on him was beyond cruel. But can he be blamed? He has heard your fantasy in the eradication of incels, and this colleague of yours is no less than that—it’s just you didn’t know that. Now, this man is paying his dues, hoping he never talked to Caleb, or disrespected him, or talked about you in a vulgar manner. 

You’ve noticed that Caleb was nowhere in sight, you were getting tired and wanted to call him to let him know of your state, only for him to appear behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist. You jumped in surprise before turning to him, making you laugh. 

“Oh, my god, Caleb, you scared me,” you spoke through chuckles before wrapping your arms around his neck, “where have you been? I went to talk to Tara real quick, only for you to disappear.”

Caleb pouted before leaning to kiss your cheek, “I’m sorry, pipsqueak, I went to the bathroom, I didn’t make you worry about me, did I?” He cooed, eyes glimmering in puppy-like state. You caressed his cheek while shaking your head.

“No, no, I just wanted to tell you that I want to go home now,” You said.

“Yeah, I think so too, I want to go home too,” Caleb hushes before he leans in to paint your skin with kisses and love bites, while his hands begin roaming down your body, ignoring that you were in public. You gasped at his sudden yet bold public display of affection as you gripped his arm when he began attacking your neck. 

“Caleb!” You whined through your shocked chuckles, “What has gotten into you? There are people around, you can’t have missed me this much.”

Caleb still left trails of kisses before pulling away with a devious smirk, revealing to you a flushed face, “You have no idea… let’s get out of here…” Caleb huskily spoke before he carried you bridal style, making you yelp with astonished, widened eyes. 

Caleb proceeds to drag you away from his sins and crimes, but is it criminal for wanting to take care of an uncomfortable situation his way? Is it a crime if the crime has disappeared into thin air? Caleb took you on a ride that opposes the idea of what your male colleague has gone through. You were rolling in the fields of pleasure and bliss, meanwhile your colleague held uncertainty and mystery. He was last seen at the event, never to be seen again.

Caleb just wanted to protect you from evil, and he can expel it if you tell him so.

ⓒ 2025 all works done by H109zone do not repost, translate, modify, or plagiarize my work.

[beloveds-embrace]

(p2 of this poly fae 141 x human reader (different take)) cw: bittersweet

The palace breathes for you.

It bends around you like soft wind around reeds, gently guiding your dazed steps through moonlit corridors and blooming halls. Time has no anchor for you anymore. Some mornings, you wake to suns that burn blue instead of gold, moons that double and chase each other through the sky. But it doesn’t matter, because the castle knows where you are meant to be even if you don’t.

When you rise, the curtains part without a hand to touch them. They sigh open like petals, letting soft light bathe the velvet floor. Your robe- light as spider’s silk- slide from their hooks on their own, floating to wrap around your body with reverent care. Your slippers are waiting at the side of your bed when you swing your legs over. They’ve been warmed by the hearth, and when your toes slide in, the threads whisper your name back to you in tiny, enchanted stitches.

The walls pulse faintly with warmth when you pass, as if the stone itself loves you. the chandeliers above never burn too bright; their glow always softens when your gaze turns up, as though they remember you used to hate harsh light when you read.

A cluster of servants waits quietly at your chamber doors- not because they must, but because they care and they want to, and had eagerly offered to be of service when you’d requested your own chambers. Gentle-handed dryads with hair like woven moss, old pixie seamstresses who chatter softly in riddles, even a hulking troll-footman who ducks his head so low it scrapes the frame. They do not speak unless you speak first, for sometimes you forget words, and silence is a safer thing to carry.

Then, soak in a bath drawn by nymph-handmaidens who speak in ripples and laughter, though mirror clouds when you stare too long- it doesn’t want to upset you, doesn’t want you to see how much time has tried to touch you, even when magic holds your youth like a fragile glass.

Today, your steps take you toward the gardens. The floor glows faintly under your feet- not because it needs to, but because the castle thinks maybe it helps you find your way. Everything- every stone, every breath- remembers you, even when you don’t remember yourself.

Or maybe you meant to go to the library. You aren’t sure- but the will-o-wisps know.

They flit ahead of you, little balls of mischievous light usually known for luring travelers into the woods until their bones turn to moss. But not you, never you.

They hover like faithful stars orbiting the sun, bobbing through the air with a delighted hum, zigzagging ahead in slow trails so your wandering feet follow the right turns. They tinkle like laughter when you stumble near a wrong archway and dart to the correct one instead.

You find yourself in your garden, after all, where the gardeners wait. Not the usual ones- no, the Queen's Garden has been assigned only to the most trusted now. A century-old elf in gloves of woven bark, a dryad who grows her own apron from her chestnut branches, and even a silent golem of moss and marble who only speaks in scents. They have trimmed the hedges into soft spirals and arranged the blooms into delicate mosaics.

Today, they have laid out a path of starpetals- tiny, glimmering flowers that shimmer faintly under moon or sun. Once, long ago, they were your favorite.

But now-

“I don’t like those.” You murmur as you pass, staring at the trail.

The golem stills, the elf looks up sharply, and the dryad tilts her head, concerned.

Kyle, who’d been a quiet shadow just behind you from the moment you stepped out of your chambers, slows his steps. “You always used to ask for them,” he says gently. “Had us plant ‘em everywhere your shadow touched.”

You frown. “… I don’t remember that. I don’t like them.”

“It’s alright,” he says after a short pause, and offers you his arm. “We can pick new ones. Whatever you like, love.”

You nod, but you don’t take his arm. Your fingers drift toward the flowers, brushing one before you turn away again.

Later, as your thoughts begin to drift again, the flowers are gone without fanfare. By the time you return to the courtyard, it is filled with soft white ferns and wandering frost-ivy that glows faintly in the dusk.

The castle heard you. It always does.

You wander deeper into the woods near the edge of the palace, where the magic gets older, thicker- where even the bravest guards rarely step.

A warm breeze carries the scent of jasmine and crushed duskberry petals. The patient trees sing here not with voices, but with the rustle of knowing leaves, always parting to give you gentle shade or letting sunlight filter through just when you like it.

There stands a shadow that heralds the first whispers of death.

Thrain.

The phantom stag, horned and enormous. He stands between two trees gnarled by age and shaped like reaching hands, his antlers scraping the sky, mist curling around his hooves.

But for you?

He bows his head.

You smile and reach for him as if you’ve done it every day of your life- and maybe you have. Maybe there’s no need to remember if the body still knows. And he lets you pat the velvet between his antlers, lowering his massive head so you can nuzzle your cheek against him. His body radiates cold like the mountain peaks, but it doesn’t sting. It soothes. Your hands slip into the thick mist of his mane, and you close your eyes.

You nap there, nestled against the beast feared by all.

When you stir again, you’re no longer alone.

“Thought we’d find you here.” Gaz murmurs, his voice quiet like the wind between reeds. He kneels beside you, offering his usual steaming cup- tea brewed with memory-moss and lemon-pearl leaves.

You drink. You always do, when he brings it.

“You missed lunch.” Simon says gently. He’s seated on a nearby root, his mask still on, though you know his eyes soften when he looks at you.

Johnny is already braiding moonflowers into your hair, humming a fae tune that turns the leaves brighter with every note. He doesn’t say much, just keeps you close with the warmth of his touch.

You blink slowly at them, still a bit sleep-soaked. “…Thrain didn’t want me to leave.”

“Aye, well,” Johnny grins. “He’s protective, tha’s all. You’ve got everyone wrapped ‘round yer little finger, haven’t you?”

Your head droops again. The fog curls soft around your thoughts. But then- you feel it; the weight of a gaze like a promise, like a spell woven in devotion.

John.

You don’t turn, but you feel him draw near. You always do, always will. His presence thrums like a second heartbeat in your chest, steady and storm-deep. He places a warm hand on your back, the other sliding under your legs as he lifts you into his arms.

“Time for rest, love,” he murmurs into your hair, the crown of your head. “You’ve wandered far enough for today.”

Thrain snorts, mist coiling between his antlers, but does not follow. He only watches as your husband carries you back into the palace, trailed by your silent protectors and glowing will-o-wisps.

“I don’t like the starpetals,” you say again, feeling the need to inform him. “They make me sad.”

His steps falter once, but then he is gently pulling you closer, his forehead against yours. “We’ll find new flowers, then,” John whispers. “And you can love them for the first time. As many times as you need.”

And the castle sighs with peace. Its walls bend again, opening the path home.

P3