#laurus

[ghost-shepherdess]

Verdigris pigment made to the medieval method, mainly following al-Qalalūsī's recipe from the thirteenth century Andalusi manuscript Tuhaf al-Khawāṣ. (tl. Joumana Medlej)

Verdigris is obtained by exposing copper to the vapours of vinegar/acetic acid in a sealed environment over the course of several weeks. Here i used a clean copper sheet over 12% distilled vinegar, but many more shades can be made by playing around with the copper and vinegar sources !

[camilla-denniston]

Academia Historical Fiction Recommendations

The Silver Branch, by Rosemary Sutcliff: Light Academia; Medicine; Spring; Roman Britain; 3rd century

Two on a Tower, by Thomas Hardy: Romantic Academia; Astronomy; Summer; England; 19th century

The Name of the Rose, by Umberto Eco: Dark Academia; Philosophy; Autumn; Italy; 14th century

Laurus, by Eugene Vodolazkin: Chaotic Academia; Medicine and Theology; Winter; Russia; 15th century

[mostremote]

Laurus, Eugene Vodolazkin

[grandpasessions]

The elder ran his hand along Arseny’s hair.

He said: Each of us repeats Adam’s journey and acknowledges, with the loss of innocence, that he is mortal. Weep and pray, O Arseny. And do not fear death, for death is not just the bitterness of parting. It is also the joy of liberation.

Laurus

Eugene Vodolazkin

[howgaytobequeer]

A cool picture of a gull (Larus sp.) I took today. Something neat about capturing that moment of takeoff.

[rmelster]

Cillian Murphy - LAURUS || CARMILLUS moodboard.

For @aneurinallday :>

[extractofword]

The tree of knowledge leads humanity to death but a cross of wood grants immortality to humanity. Remember, O Amvrosy, that repetitions are granted for our salvation and in order to surmount time.

Laurus by Eugene Vodolazkin, 2016. Translated by Lisa C. Hayden.

[gummyworm]

[OCs]

also some other little things

[mountedhistory]

Reading Eugene Vodolazkin's books doesn't feel like reading. It simply feels like living someone else's life for a time 📚🍂

[adventuresofalgy]

The restless wind had rushed through the tall spruces all night, and by the morning it had swept the drenching Scotch mist far, far away… for the moment, at least…

And, much to Algy's astonishment – for the weather birds had told him that it would remain misty and wet all week in the wild west Highlands of Scotland – the sun was beginning to shine. However, the rather-too-brisk south-westerly was ruffling his feathers in a way that was considerably less than pleasant in the cool January air, so, like many of his smaller feathered friends, Algy decided to seek cover in a dense, evergreen bush.

He knew that some of them favoured the handsome bay tree which grew in a sheltered spot in his assistants' garden, so he decided to try it for himself. Settling down on its dense branches, Algy found that it did indeed afford a great deal of protection from the wind, and the invigorating aroma of its leaves, which continued to glow bright green, even in the depths of winter, lifted his winter-weary spirits. Relaxing happily in the arms of the welcoming bush, Algy began to recite, for the benefit of any smaller birds nearby who might not have the advantage of a good literary education:

How vainly men themselves amaze To win the palm, the oak, or bays, And their uncessant labours see Crown’d from some single herb or tree, Whose short and narrow verged shade Does prudently their toils upbraid; While all flow’rs and all trees do close To weave the garlands of repose. Fair Quiet, have I found thee here, And Innocence, thy sister dear! Mistaken long, I sought you then In busy companies of men; Your sacred plants, if here below, Only among the plants will grow. Society is all but rude, To this delicious solitude. No white nor red was ever seen So am’rous as this lovely green. Fond lovers, cruel as their flame, Cut in these trees their mistress’ name; Little, alas, they know or heed How far these beauties hers exceed! Fair trees! wheres’e’er your barks I wound, No name shall but your own be found.

[Algy is reciting the first three verses of the poem The Garden by the 17th century English metaphysical poet and politician Andrew Marvell.]

[gemteeth]

Laurus guarding a treasured tomb in the Upper Cathedral Ward.

[aspiringtrashpanda]

The love of my life, reason to live. I humbly ask you, once again, to indulge me with attentive bf Beel who knows Mc's appetite like the back of his hand. He knows exactly how long to wait before eating off their plate. Thank you in advance, i love you so much❤️

anything for my love, my everything, my personal banner maker.

also wow beel nation, are you okay? first three requests are beel-centric like WHAT?

Characters: Beel x MC, brothers make an appearance Attentive bf Beel, pure fluff with the teensiest bit of spice No warnings apply

It was a normal evening. Satan and Beel had been on dinner duty, Lucifer had been at RAD late, and Levi had been holed up in his room for three whole days. Something about the release of a new horror roguelike. Mammon had tried to sell Asmo on his latest get rich quick scheme, promising that all he would need as an investment was a lock of Asmo’s hair, and well, that wasn’t going to fly. Only one glass of demonus had been spilled across the table - Mammon having lunged towards Asmo to get it himself - and Belphie had fallen asleep mid-sentence a record low of twice. 

A completely normal evening. 

The brothers, however, worried a storm was on the horizon.

“Did ya see that?” Mammon hissed to Levi, the latter grumbling under his breath. Apparently the distraction had sent him back to level 1. 

Lucifer sighed, humming over the lip of his glass. “He’s going to hear about that later.”

“Really, his table manners are going to be the death of him one day,” Asmo lamented, flicking his fork with a flourish. A piece of sautéed hemlock freed itself from the prongs and smacked against Satan’s cheek. He brushed it away with a scoff. 

You paid them no mind, choosing instead to focus on Levi’s handheld console, Beel's chewing a comforting soundtrack to your right.

The screen visible from where you sat, you leaned into Levi's personal bubble, watching his little avatar slash through blob-like monsters. He jolted at your proximity, scowling when a walking skeleton stabbed his character through the heart.

“Not cool!” Levi shimmied his chair away from you. “Everyone needs to stop distracting me!” 

With a shrug, you turned back to your plate, finding it empty. Beel’s jaw moved continuously as he smiled down at you. His indigo eyes glimmered with affection, and you had the impression that he cared not about his brother’s whispers. Only about you. Your heart swelled, the familiar heat spilling through your veins and flooding the tips of your fingers.

You excused yourself from the table. Beel followed you exactly 5 seconds later. 

“You’re not having dessert?” The question slipped out as you looped your arms around his sturdy middle, as you rested your head against his body’s warmth. It was strange for him to leave the dining room so quickly. Usually, he joined you in your room after obliterating whatever sweets Luke had made for him to try. 

“I will be.” His answer vibrated through his frame, buzzing through your skull. 

Your mind went to the gutter, the muscles of his abdomen contracting as he leaned down, as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. His exhale rustled your hair, his hands so strong, so large as they covered your hips. 

A violent blush burning your skin, you managed a flustered squeak, “Oh! I didn’t realize it was that kind of night.”

He paused. Straightened up. Blinked twice. The confusion in his gaze was but a brief flash before it was overtaken by sheer enthusiasm. If he was a dog, you were certain his tail would be wagging. As he pulled you flush against him once more, he laughed, “I meant that I’d have dessert when you’re hungry again in an hour, but I could go for that kind of sweet, if you’re offering.”

As you led him to your bed, the last thing on your mind was whether you’d be peckish within the hour. 

However, at breakfast the next morning, you found yourself realizing that you had ended up munching on one of Luke’s cookies after a healthy dose of debauchery. Beel had raced from your bed to return with a plate of goodies in exactly 96 seconds (you timed him on your stopwatch app - a new record!), and you had curled up in front of your television to watch the latest episode of Barbeque Life before Lucifer came by to ensure that Beel slept in his own bed. 

You smiled. Beelzebub was always so attentive and receptive to your needs. It didn’t surprise you that he understood your stomach’s schedule. 

“Tell me, hon,” Asmo sang the moment Beel left the table to retrieve more hell coffee from the kitchen, “Is everything alright with you and Beel?”

Multiple utensils clattered to their plates, wide eyes swiveling from brother to brother. Mammon looked particularly spooked, while Lucifer simply pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Uh, yeah?” You swallowed your devilbee honey pudding, the sweet treat turning bitter on your tongue. “Why? Did he say something?”

Shoulders relaxed instantly, sighs of relief bouncing back and forth like ping pong balls. The table was an appropriate length for table tennis, you supposed. However, while the brothers laughed off the strange question, your uncertainty only grew. 

Levi pretended to wipe sweat from his brow, an exaggerated gesture you were sure he learned from an anime. “Oh? Okay, phew. We were worried he was in trouble lol.”

Your chest felt warm, your heart pounding. “Why would he be in trouble?”

“Well because he-” Levi started, just to squawk as Mammon swatted his face, “Er, n-no reason!”

A beat of silence. Beel’s heavy footsteps as he returned to the dining room, coffee pot in hand. You were keenly aware of the tightness of your throat, your swallow lodging halfway down your esophagus. As Beel refilled Lucifer’s coffee, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the tension hanging in the air.

It was never fun walking into a silent room, acutely aware that everyone had been talking about you. 

“What’s going on?” Beel asked, settling back into his seat. He accented his words by snagging a muffin from your plate, picking at the hell berries crusting the top. 

Before you could ask him the same question, Asmo shrieked, “He just did it again!”

Satan shook his head slowly, Mammon gawking at the giant demon next to you. Lucifer continued to read the morning paper, refusing to participate in such shenanigans. 

“RIP Beel,” Levi muttered, “It was nice knowing you.”

The confusion escalated tenfold, frustration pricking at the soles of your feet. You threw up your hands, huffing, “Okay, is someone going to tell us what you’re all going on about?”

Beel peered curiously at his brothers as they averted their eyes, as they pretended that their meal hadn’t been interrupted. His fingers brought a piece of your toast to his mouth, his brow creasing as he chewed thoughtfully. 

Belphie raised his head with a yawn. “Beel keeps eating your food.”

“From your plate,” Mammon added.

Satan nodded curtly, “Without permission.”

Your stomach dropped. You weren’t sure if you were disappointed or relieved.

“Oh,” You glanced around the table, noticing at that moment that Beel had moved your plate in front of him. “That’s it?”

Asmo pointed in accusation, protesting, “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“No?” This was so absurd. You were used to bonkers conversations at every meal, but their sheer concern was truly comical. “Actually…”

It was Belphie who cut in, propping his chin in his palm. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he drawled, “They’re always done eating. Beel knows when they’re full.”

The looks of disbelief on Mammon and Levi’s faces were so similar, you wondered if they were twins. They spluttered in surprise, the latter exclaiming, “But they hardly ate their breakfast! How could they be full?!”

And Beel - sweet, calm, confident Beel - shrugged. As if it was the most obvious answer in the world, he explained. “They’re sleepy in the morning, and not very hungry. They only eat a little bit. They’ll be hungry in about 2 hours. That’s why I pack the leftovers before we leave for RAD.” 

This time, the brothers weren’t the only ones shocked. Lifting your jaw from the carpeted floor, you gasped, “The leftovers aren’t for yourself?”

A bright vein of pride shone in his eyes, fuschia within the indigo depths. “I mean, I partake, but only after you’ve had your fill.”

“Huh,” was all you managed to respond, your brain too busy flipping through the memories of all the snacks and meals Beel had brought you regardless of request. His fingers curled around your shoulder, amusement brightening his face. 

The gentle squeeze brought you back to reality, just in time to hear Mammon say, “Hey Beel, do ya think you have telepathic abilities outside of you and Belphie?”

“What a stupid question,” Satan scoffed, though you knew he was waiting for Beel’s answer himself. 

Your fingers curled around his, anchored on your shoulder, grounding you in the moment. And what a moment it was, for Beel simply snorted, “Nah, I just pay attention to my partner.”

Why Mammon considered that a declaration of war, you weren’t entirely sure. But two hours later, when Beel passed you a container of carefully wrapped leftovers, you knew that you were the luckiest person in the world. 

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜

My requests are open! Find out more HERE. Banner made by @4laurus - have you seen her Beel?

[tallbluelady]

What Would You Be the Deity of?

Golden Laurel

Deity of glory, remembrance, stories of people long gone, and tragedies. You wanted people to remember you. You wanted to hurt him, but the truth is that you couldn’t stomach it. Was it worth it? Everything you sacrificed to get what you want? Tragic hero, did you walk into the dark blindly or with your eyes open? Does it even matter?

Tagged by @distracted-dragoon! The result made me think of a Lightwarden AU.

Tagging @lilbittymonster, @pumpkinmagekupo, @yloiseconeillants

(Quiz here.)

[entryn17]

everyday i have to study plant latin names

[lys-d-raev]

This bed is too narrow for them

[rmelster]

Just found a period-looking Cillian that would fit Laurus!