#a bundle of heliotropes

[mae-dwrites]

A Bundle of Heliotropes - Chapter 1 - Marking

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| Ao3 | Wattpad |

After two people have turned 16 they get a soulmark, a near-exact, or complementary, mark or as some referred to it as a tattoo. This can be anywhere on the person, sometimes they're simple, small, or inconspicuous on occasion. Other times they take up a great deal of space, elaborate pieces of work, their meaning so clear much clearer more often than not.

When Marinette Dupain-Cheng was younger she couldn't wait for her mark. She hadn't cared what it would look like because no matter what it would be beautiful, because this was her way to her one in the Universe.

When she fell in love with Adrien she was sure it was him but slowly felt as though she was wrong as she failed to confess or even have a normal conversation with the blond. Why would the Universe give her someone she couldn't even talk to?

This led to her officially letting him go and giving Luka a wholehearted try, that was until he got his soulmark. Akumas, being Ladybug, and Guardian duties had already been putting a strain on their relationship so Luka getting his mark was just the icing on the cake, and Marinette thought it would be better for them to break up and remain friends.

Marinette spent months of hopeful vs. hopeless, and as her birthday drew near a feeling of dread came upon her. The day came when she woke up with her collar area burning with her mark.

It was beautiful, just below the center of her collarbone a circle resting with elm branches coming from it going across to end at her shoulders. In the circle was a giant ladybug, along with robins sitting on the branches of her tree.

Looking in the mirror left her almost breathless, she brought her hand up to the mark almost scared to touch it. For fear if she touched it would fade the canvas of her skin forgetting what had been.

The only problem was it was far too telling. A ladybug? As if that wouldn't reveal her. She couldn't show this, not without someone realizing what the ladybug truly represented.

She could show Alya, she had told her identity at the beginning of the school year. She trusted her not to blab about it, especially when a few months ago Alya was going through the Ladyblog rewatching her videos and trying to see if any of them could be of help. Then she stumbled upon her interview with Lila to realize that she couldn't possibly be best friends with Ladybug when that was in fact her. She apologized to Marinette when she realized her mistake and how it took her this long even after Marinette had already told her and proved she was Ladybug.

“Marinette!” Tikki’s voice broke through her trance. The Kwami had been admiring her mark, while it wasn't the biggest or the flashiest. It was certainly something to admire. Big and flashy had never been Marinette’s forte, perhaps her soulmate and her had that in common?

“Sorry Tikki. I just,” Marinette glanced into the mirror again looking at the branches and its’ birds. “I can't believe it.” The teen said the last bit breathlessly.

“Guardian, as beautiful as your mark is,” Wayzz floated up. “You’re going to need to hide it. Someone could put it together, even with the quantum masking.”

“Wayzz is right,” Marinette turned to face Tikki as she spoke. “We can't count on the Miraculous magic to hide your identity when a mark so clearly refers to your heroine persona. While our magic is ancient that doesn’t mean it’s entirely dependable either.”

“You're right,” Marinette sighed. “I can show Alya at least. I'm sure she's gonna freak.”

Marinette wore a shirt that covered above her collarbone, unable to wear her usual white tees. She wore a light pink top so that if the shirt got wet the mark wouldn't be seen through the fabric. Marinette had already been making it a habit not to wear her usual whites anyway, with how many times Lila had caused “accidents” that ruined them. It wasn’t like she was dumb enough to keep wearing something that would be affected the worse.

Marinette already knew that Lila would try to say she must not have a soul mate if she wasn't willing to show her friends. Honestly, Marinette could care less about that, as Lila probably wouldn't share hers either when she got hers later this year. Not to mention there were others in the class and friends that had been getting their marks recently and not all of them wanted to share. Also, Marinette might be the younger between her and them, if her getting the mark on her birthday was anything to go by. Which it was.

Marinette made her way downstairs while tying her hair back, over the last few months while she still was late for things she had gotten better at waking up early. It made her friends excited, that's for sure. Marinette was proud, she may not get all the hours of sleep needed for a person her age but at least she started her day earlier.

She grabbed an apple and made her way down the stairs. She didn't want to risk Lila trying to claim she had done something when she was least likely to have. So she made her way as quickly as she possibly could, despite her having more time to get to school; it helped to get there as soon as she could around a certain time. As the more people around to see her the less likely Lila could make her claims.

Marinette passed through the bakery giving her maman and papa hugs and kisses before snatching up croissants into a bag to share with some of her friends. Mainly Alya, Nino, and Adrien of course every morning hung out with her. Many of her other friends would sometimes join them, sometimes they were in a rush or just forgot to grab something to eat.

Everyone mostly “played nice” as Adrien tried to keep it. While Adrien seemed to play peacekeeper along with Alya they both had very different reasons. Adrien being so Lila wouldn't say anything to his Father and risk his freedom, and while they understood that it still hurt when Adrien sometimes took more of Lila’s side in the conversation, even if it was for the sake of “keeping the peace.” Over the months Chloé, Kagami, and Marinette had been able to convince Gabriel to be more free with his son, even Natalie had surprisingly shown support. But Adrien still turned the arguments in Lila’s favor a good chunk of the time.

Alya on the other hand had been slowly sliding more to Marinette, so as to not cause Lila into a fuss. Alya hated it, that much was clear, but it seemed as though Lila didn't notice as long as the Créole teen was spitting articles of her amazing life. Alya had made a separate blog to “support her friend” but what Lila hadn't noticed was that the writer’s name wasn't Alya but a pen name. But it had come to light for Lila that Alya still cared about Marinette and wasn't entirely leaving her. Alya gave excuses, true and false, but we're good enough for the Italian. But Lila taking notice had only been a recent thing.

“Marinette!” Alya shouted as Marinette made her way into the courtyard. Some people turned to see the dark-haired teen make her way to her friend, some of those students happened to be Max and Rose. Score, Marinette couldn’t help but think as it meant if Lila tried to say something they would most likely doubt her, especially if she was with Alya.

“Hey Alya,” Marinette smiled before hugging her best friend. As she pulled away she wasn’t even halfway out before Alya was practically buzzing.

“So?” Alya stretched the word out while bouncing in place. “Did you get your mark? Or is it not there? And if there isn’t one then that’s okay girl! Remember your soulmate could be younger than you and hasn’t turned sixteen yet. And even if you don’t get a mark I won’t think any less of you, it just means that you're free to choose your own destiny and-” and before Alya could continue rambling, something that she had picked up from the Asian girl, that Marinette cut her off.

“Alya! I got my mark,” Marinette laughed before finally letting go of the other girl’s hands. Alya’s face slowly went from blank to pure glee. She grabbed Marinette’s shoulders and shook her, “You. Me. Bathroom. Now!”

Alya dragged her to the bathroom, while others would be upset at the other’s demanding antics Marinette just laughed. Alya pushed the bathroom door open and surveyed the room, “Which stall is empty?”

Some girls gave her weird looks, but those who were friends or knew the girls personally giggled or simply smiled. One of them pointed to the one at the end. Alya declared “perfect” and brought Marinette in with her. Some of the girls said happy birthdays to Marinette while giggling as Alya dragged her into the stall. As Alya shut the stall door it could be heard some girls going “Oh” as they realized why the two went into the stall.

“Show me now girl!” Alya cried, the stall at the end wasn’t as small as the others but it certainly wasn’t one as big as the one closer to the door. Alya had mentioned that her mark might hint at her heroing, as a theory. It wasn’t uncommon for soul marks to represent someone’s work or passions, so it was safe to assume that Marinette’s could reference Ladybug.

Marinette pulled her arms out of her shirt before taking it off, her tank top left a perfect view of the mark. Aside from the straps, it’s not like it really mattered. Alya let out what had to be the loudest squeal Marinette had heard come out of her, and she had let Alya try many Miraculi on just for the fun of it. That sleepover had been the loudest squeals and laughter that came out of Alya to date. Till today that is.

“Are those tree branches? And robins?”

“Yes, and yes,” Marinette said before bringing her shirt back on. “Elms if I’m not wrong. But I studied plants for that one nature-forest-themed fashion competition.”

Alya finally opened the stall back up when Marinette had her shirt situated, and with Wayzz and Tikki away. Alya just seemed to be radiating from excitement. If Alya was the type to jump up and down when excited that would be exactly what she would be doing now. Though Marinette had a feeling it had to do with how nervous Alya was for Nino’s birthday.

Nino’s Birthday was just four days away, Alya’s was last month. She didn't get a mark so she held out hope that Nino would be her soulmate, while being soulmates didn't necessarily mean it was romantic you couldn't blame the girl. As for all they knew, Nino or Alya may have a romantic bond with someone else. With how close they were and how much they loved each other it made sense to be scared of such possibilities.

Marinette was honestly scared hers wouldn't be romantic, not that there was anything wrong with a platonic bond. But for Marinette, it just meant finding someone to have her big house with three kids and a hamster would be much harder.

Marinette subconsciously touched where her mark lay, What if they don't like that I'm the one they're soul bound to?

“Marinette!”

The said girl looked up to see Adrien, Nino, and Kim waiting for her. A smile came on her face as she saw them. Kim waved at her overdramatically before raising a sign that read “Happy Birthday To The Bread Child.”

Alya and Marinette laughed at the sign, it had been a joke between mainly Kim and Marinette that she was “The Bread Child”. When they were in early collège their class had done a project about names and their heritages. From then on Kim liked to joke about her father’s last name.

Her other friends had slowly made their ways into the joke calling her bread-related nicknames. Adrien and Nino were the worst, as they were puns. It honestly made Marinette think their favorite hero was Chat Noir rather than Ladybug.

“Happy Birthday!” Nino and Kim shouted at their long-time friend.

“Happy Birthday Marinette,” Adrien smiled at her. The girl's insides swirled around a little at his smile, it was charming, one of his real ones even. Despite letting go of her crush on him he still made her flustered from time to time.

“Thanks you guys,” she felt a bit embarrassed but she couldn't care. Her friends always made her feel like that on important occasions, but she enjoyed it nonetheless.

“I'm assuming by Alya’s face and that she was practically skipping her way over here that you got your mark?” Kim raised his eyebrows at his short friend. Though most people at Françoise Dupont were shorter than Kim.

“Yes,” her cheeks flushed as she admitted it.

“That's amazing dudette,” Nino said in his usual fashion.

“Can you show us?” Kim looked between the two girls.

Marinette swallowed before opening her mouth to speak, ���I don't want to lie to you but I want to keep it myself. I would love to show it but for now, I would like to keep it to myself.”

Marinette looked everywhere but her friends while she said this. They were gonna think she was selfish, or that she hates them when she doesn't! But because they think she hates them they’ll start hating her, and they’ll all leave her. She’ll have no friends because they’ll tell everyone and then she won't ever make friends for the rest of lycèe. Since no one likes her she’ll never get to be a famous and successful designer, and when she finally finds her soulmate they’ll think she’s horrible and hate her because she has no friends and that she's a failure. And then she’ll be alone for the rest of her life. She’ll never get her big house for her hamster and three kids, and-

“Marinette!” Her friend's voices snapped her out of her panicked state.

“S-sorry!” Marinette cried.

“Marinette, it's okay,” Nino said.

“We understand and we won't push you to show us,” Kim pulled Marinette in for a side hug. “We would never hate you for being private.”

“Exactly!” Adrien said with a reassuring smile. “It's your decision. Also soulmarks are very personal things, it only makes sense if someone decided not to share theirs.”

“It’s in your full right to decide who you want to share your mark with,” Alix said from behind Marinette. Marinette would have jumped if Kim hadn't been hugging her right then. “Honestly I don't think I will share mine with anyone when I turn sixteen next year.” Alix admitted before continuing in a joking tone, “Unless it’s something sick like a dragon or snakes. Then I would show that sucker off for all it’s worth!”

Everyone laughed at Alix’s statement before heading to their classroom.

|

When Damian Wayne first didn't get his mark he thought maybe he didn't have one, and he was fine with that. Even pleased one could say. As it would be one less person to care about, to protect, or to be used as a weakness.

His family reassured him that his soulmate probably just hadn't turned sixteen yet. Truly that didn't, as the League had certain beliefs around the topic. All Damian saw was that it was the Universe giving him that one person that anyone could use against him.

Lo and behold they would be right; just a few months later would he wake to his shoulder blades burning as a mark finally made itself upon his body.

Damian looked at his back with the mirror in his bathroom. It was…magnificent. It was the only word that could come to mind that held everything he felt about it, the young Wayne couldn't help but look at it.

A circle between his shoulder blades with tree branches that went across his shoulder blades and stopped just as it went to wrap around, clearly cherry blossoms were the branches that came out, ladybugs in flight or resting in the branches. While it made no sense it was still a beautiful sight. In the circle was a robin, its back to the viewer and its head turned up so you could see its face, as best you could with how the view of the mark portrayed it.

Damian swallowed, his body showcasing the form of nervousness without his consent. He couldn't help it though, looking at made his chest tight and his fingers flinching, desperately wanting to touch the mark. His arm made its way up and his hand came down-

He clenched his jaw as he turned his hand into a fist and brought it away. He huffed leaving the bathroom, and his face became a scowl. As he got dressed two parts of him berated him. He took a moment to calm himself, it’s just a mark. But it wasn't like a regular tattoo, it couldn't come off.

It was one of the reasons you, internationally, couldn't get a tattoo until you were eighteen, because you were one: a minor. And second, you didn't get your mark until you were around the age of sixteen to nineteen. At least that was the average range of the current day, there were some larger age differences here and there, but it wasn't as common now. Guess the Universe seemed to catch on to how humans had been viewing age differences in recent times.

Damian didn’t understand why the Universe had decided that soulmates would be part of the staple of its rules. An absolute that had become the conclusion long ago that no matter what you were bound to meet your soulmate, in one life or another. At least that was according to magic users and what the League had from hunting down certain magic users.

So under no circumstances could his family find out about this mark. He may have come a long way from who he was when he was ten years old but even still he did not wish to entrust them with everything. While they were family, his most trusted, and partners, he couldn't stand them over insignificant things. This mark did follow under the file: “Keep Out Of Knowledge For Long As Possible.” or as he formally called it “My Business.”

It was his business, and as it was his business it meant his brothers would poke and pry their way into said business. Damian stifled a groan as he made his way down the hall. Damian could only hope his brothers would stick to their recent “level 1: giving space” tactic, but that would only last for so long. He might as well enjoy the peace that came with it.

“Damian we're going skating after school!” Grayson exclaimed upon the young Wayne entering the dining room.

As much peace that would come with the level 1 space.

-

Being Tagged is always an option.

[wolfythewitch]

hi I feel like I've been attempting to interact with your stuff way too much and I'm probably annoying you but I wanted you to see some of my own sketches of your Hadestown au bc it had a chokehold on me yesterday and it wouldn't leave me alone. I decided Elias would be Hermes for several reasons

(You don't have to read this bit if you don't want to lol)

Tim doesn't have anything close to a guide/mentor figure in tma and Elias is probably the only person who a) has a connection to him and b) actively utilises Tim's decisions for his own ends. He's a bitch yes, and his Hermes would be a much more insidious, manipulative one, but there's really nobody else who fits the bill as much as Elias does. He enjoys the tragedy, actively basks in it in fact, and I think while Hermes continues to tell the story hoping that it might end well one day, Elias would tell it knowing that it never will and enjoying the inevitability of it all. He would appear genuine to the other characters, but the audience would know that he's a rat bastard - and this would show through to Tim during "Hey, the big artiste...".

Also I gave Jon a bundle of heliotropes instead of a red carnation bc they signify devoted, undying love and they have a tragic origin derived from an old Greek myth.

enjoy (or don't, whatever floats your boat). your art is very cool and got me to enjoy my own art process for the first time in a very long time so thank you a lot for that :)

Oh this is so cool!! Your style is so pretty and aaa jonmartin dancing <33 I've thought more about Elias as Hermes but I've come to the decision that I don't want the tone to shift that much haha, and Elias being hermes would definitely switch the tone of hadestown needing you to think every time that maybe, maybe this time it will end with a happy ending

[maya-tl]

MEDISPY MEDIC WITH HANANAKI DISEASE shakes aggressively and stims

Medic knew what it meant when the flowers started coming.

He was no botanist and he may have lost his medical licence along the way, but he wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the morning sickness or the tight feeling in his chest, and especially not the unassuming little bundle of flowers he’d coughed up into the sink the day before.

They were small, smaller than his fingernails, round and fluffy and coloured a vibrant yellow. Medic wasn’t that well-versed in flower language apart from the basic variants of roses, but he’d caught Heavy reading a book on the subject in the living room once. He’d startled quite badly when he noticed Medic watching him, but then calmly explained that it was good practice for his English and asked Medic if he was interested in borrowing it.

Medic was quite fluent in English, in spite of his accent, and he knew that Heavy knew this, but he decided against embarrassing his friend and politely agreed to have a look at it. He’d forgotten to return it, but Heavy hadn’t asked him about it since and so he figured it would be alright if he held onto it a little longer.

Yellow acacia flowers. Secret love.

Medic had run the tests and checked his vitals, in spite of the fact that he already knew what it was. Hanahaki, a disease caused by unrequited love where the afflicted coughed up flowers over a few months—or, in rare cases, years—until the plants multiplied inside their lungs quicker than they could be expelled and suffocated them. A slow and agonising way to die.

Medic had known what to expect. He had, after all, been coughing up petals for weeks.

He hadn’t expected the whole flowers to come so soon, due to the nature of the respawn system, but he supposed it was inevitable either way. There was no cure for the disease and Medic couldn’t hope to achieve what centuries of research had failed to do in such a short time—because his time was short, there was no doubt about that. It was advancing too quickly.

Surgery wasn’t an option, and Medic had laughed bitterly when he realised that. He was a damn good surgeon and the Medigun would allow him to perform the surgery on himself, so logically the odds were stacked in his favour, especially since the thought of permanent death was terrifying. He would survive and return to health and no longer have to worry about dying.

Except the thought of no longer loving him was worse.

So Medic endured. It was easy enough to pretend he was fine around his teammates, who knew not to ask too many questions lest they lose an internal organ in their sleep. Heavy sometimes looked at him more closely than Medic would’ve liked, and he’d caught him talking in hushed whispers with Engineer before dinner on multiple occasions. Engineer would throw him a quick look, notice him staring, and then avoid him for the rest of the evening.

Normally Medic wouldn’t hesitate to insert himself into their business, especially since it was very obvious it concerned him, but lately he couldn’t be bothered; too many sleepless nights spent vomiting in the bathroom were taking their toll on him.

The yellow flowers didn’t last long, replaced instead by more beautiful but just as small flowers of a striking dark indigo colour. Medic had picked one out of the more recent bunch, washed off the blood and flipped through the book until he’d found the right page.

Heliotrope. Eternal love and devotion.

Of course.

Medic tossed the book on his nightstand and fell back against the pillow with a sigh, clenching his hand into a fist and crushing the delicate flower. When he opened his hand to brush off the petals, a sweet fragrance wafted into the room, much too potent to belong to one single bloom. That was surely the reason for his watering eyes.

His performance on the battlefield worsened as the disease progressed. He often found himself short of breath, which made him slower and more vulnerable and constantly turned his vision blurry at the edges. Nearly every time he died and went through respawn he was forced to run to the bathroom and throw up the day’s dose of flowers, which made him late to coordinated attacks and led to them losing matches.

The others were starting to catch on, and Medic was trying too hard not to vomit all over the dinner table every night to say anything in his defence.

Eventually, as it was bound to happen, he misstepped.

He’d dimmed the lights in the infirmary and turned the lamp on his desk away from him and still everything seemed too bright. He was supposed to focus on the team’s monthly medical check-up sheets, but every time he tried to write something down a tremor came over his hands and the letters on the page fused together into intelligible gibberish. In the dead silence of the soundproof infirmary, his own breathing grated on his ears.

By the time he reached the bottom of the first sheet he was exhausted, and he put the pen aside and dropped his head in his hands, focusing on taking one breath at a time. He was so frustrated—at his teammates, for not leaving him alone, at the universe, for doing this to him, at himself, for catching the disease in the first place—that he didn’t hear the doors opening or the footsteps approaching his desk.

A hand rested gently on his shoulder. Medic, against his better judgement, startled himself into looking up, and once the room stopped spinning and the vertigo passed his heart seemed to halt.

Spy looked down at him, the visible parts of his face schooled into careful neutrality. Medic met his eyes and his lungs immediately constricted painfully, and it took every ounce of willpower he had for him to swallow the flowers threatening to spill from his throat.

He expected Spy to simply raise an eyebrow and stare at him until Medic gave in and explained himself, or perhaps to subtly prod at him until he found what was wrong, or even to forego subtlety entirely and outright ask for an apology. Spy was too much of a gentleman and much too dignified to start yelling obscenities at Medic, even if Medic had technically wronged him for a good reason. He’d been avoiding him, yes, but he’d been avoiding everyone.

He did not expect Spy to wordlessly hold out his other hand and reveal a single, blood-stained indigo flower resting in the middle of his palm.

Heliotrope. Eternal love and devotion.

“You were not in your room,” Spy explained when Medic simply stared at the flower, “So I checked the bathroom. I found it on the floor next to the sink.”

Medic swallowed, his throat dry, and dared to look back up. Spy’s features were as neutral as ever, but there was a sheen over his eyes that hadn’t been there before, and Medic was so shocked to see it that the words he’d wanted to force out died on his tongue.

“Were you going to tell me?” Spy asked softly, in that tone of voice that meant he was either furious or wounded.

Medic couldn’t figure out which one it was, and in the absence of a response Spy tightened his grip on Medic’s shoulder.

“Well?” he insisted, “How long?”

Medic managed to get his voice working. “A few months,” he rasped, too busy watching Spy’s expression to cringe at the horrible sound. Spy closed his eyes and nodded slowly, the way he did whenever he was emotionally overwhelmed and trying to compose himself, but when he opened them again they still gleamed in the dim light of the room.

“Is it someone I know?” he asked, trying for light-hearted and missing the mark completely.

Medic blinked. “What?”

“Doctor,” Spy said, not quite forceful enough to hide the way his voice trembled, “I am trying very hard to be supportive in the face of learning that you are actively choosing to die for someone who surely doesn’t deserve you. Don’t make this harder on me.”

Something clicked.

“You don’t know,” Medic said, bordering on hysterical because he’d always assumed—

Spy scowled. Definitely furious. “And how on Earth would I know who the object of your affections is? You’ve never talked about…”

Spy trailed off. As much as he prided himself on his ingenuity, Medic had always known that he wouldn’t ever be the smartest person in the room so long as Spy was there with him. He was good at his job, better than any other spy Medic had ever met—his only weakness was that he tended to overlook himself whenever he was part of the equation.

Spy’s grip on Medic’s shoulder went slack, and the mask of neutrality cracked and shattered when he met Medic’s eyes and found there all the answers he needed. Medic watched his expression rapidly change from realisation to incredulity, to relief and then finally to unmistakeable, blinding anger.

“You utter imbecile,” Spy hissed, grabbed Medic by the front of his shirt and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Medic made a noise of surprise in the back of his throat and then immediately melted into the touch, bringing his hand up behind Spy’s head to deepen the kiss. The office chair creaked under the weight of two bodies as Spy unceremoniously climbed onto Medic’s lap, and Medic suddenly found all his previous thoughts scattered on the wind.

“You thought—” Spy gasped when they broke apart for air only to immediately kiss him again, “For months you—” This time it was Medic who pulled him back in, again and again, and eventually Spy had to rest a hand firmly on Medic’s chest to allow them both to catch their breath.

Medic instinctively began to rub circles into Spy’s waist, his chest painfully tight. His face must’ve been positively love-struck, because Spy huffed out a laugh that made his eyes crinkle at the corners and leaned down to brush his lips against his.

“I love you too,” he whispered, and something in the vicinity of Medic’s heart spasmed.

He turned away and began to cough, a horrid noise that only got worse the longer it went. He felt Spy hastily climb off his lap as the flowers started to come, first fluffy and yellow and then beautiful dark purple, and just when Medic was beginning to feel lightheaded and thought he might die from the blood loss after all the coughing suddenly stopped, leaving him gasping for air in a way he hadn’t been able to do in months.

A hand was gently patting him on the back. Medic leaned his entire weight into the body next to him and started to laugh, and when Spy pressed a kiss against his temple and teasingly asked him what was so funny he simply pointed to the floor.

Among the blood splatter and the veritable sea of scattered petals there lay a single, thin stem filled to the brim with miniscule pale flowers in full bloom. Spy leaned forward to have a closer look and immediately sneezed, and he muttered something about his allergies to the sound of Medic’s laughter.

Ambrosia. Reciprocated love.

[m1d-45]

My Dearest, Venti

How are you, my love? Have you enjoyed the Windblume Festival this year?

I heard about a tradition of giving Windblumes to those who you love and adore, and I wanted to participate in it. Attached to this letter is a small notebook—about the size of your palm—with musical notes on the cover! You can write your poems or songs, and honestly seeing it made me think of you, so I wanted you to have it.

For the second gift, I created a unique bouquet with flowers from my own garden. I’m a bit embarrassed to admit that I spent quite a while choosing the flowers for this bouquet (not to mention the time I spent researching for the meanings for each flower) but I don’t regret it at all. I want the best for you and I hope you can appreciate their beauty—and the trouble I went through making it.

The prophecy surrounding this Windblume has made me reflect on the importance of having someone like you in my life. You're always there to keep those around you safe and secure, and I can't thank you enough.

It amazes me how kind and thoughtful you are, my dear. I knew that leading the traveler into your nation, into your steady hands, was the best decision.

You are my guiding wind: the one that has never led me astray. I look forward to being reunited with you soon, my love.

- 🍄

[Attached to the letter a small lined notebook and an assortment of flowers: lavender, hydrangea, heliotrope, and edelweiss standing out.]

venti sat in the hands of his statue, gently playing his lyre. the song was slow, appropriate for the late hour.

he watched the skies, seeing the many stars streak across it, playing solely by muscle memory. his feet swayed, the soft wind rustling his cape but never pushing with force. the night was calm.

when one of the stars grows larger, seeming to fall from the sky, his hands falter for only a moment. part of him hopes- prays, even, that it’s for him, but he reserves his hopes. it could be going to somebody else in mondstat, or even overshoot the nation entirely and land in fontaine or natlan.

the star grows closer, and closer still. he tries not to get his hopes up, he does, but he still ends up stowing his lyre in his inventory and rising to his feet, daring to reach for the stars.

his hand brushes against the star, the warmth of it seeping into his palm and soothing any soreness from his playing. the shell begins to crumble where he touched it, but he’s quick to catch the notebook and paper inside, bringing both close to his chest as the remains of the star drift in the wind.

the notebook is small, music notes across the cover—he wonders if they form a song—and with a bundle of flowers tied to the front. he admittedly can’t identify most of them… but he recognizes lavender, the smell from the flowers seeping into the air as he carefully unfolds and reads your letter.

the wind around him picks up in an attempt to wick some of the heat from his face. these were your windblumes? if he was honest, he was surprised you gave him one at all… it was nearing the end of the festival, and the traveller had finished sorting out the prophecy a while ago.

but you…

you thought of him. you, even in a world so far from his own, took the time to grow and pick flowers, to write out a letter, to see a notebook in a store and be reminded of him. you took care in your choice, making sure each flower represented what you wanted exactly… he made a mental note to stop by flora’s shop and see if she could tell him what you trusted your flowers to say.

his eyes lingered on select words in your letter, wondering if you had put as much thought into it as your bouquet. you had to, right? or did you just put pen to paper, letting the words come as you wrote.

it pained him that he didn’t know more about you, sometimes, but it was clear you knew him well. no, more than that; you trusted him, even though he was no longer the ruling archon of mondstat. you trusted him to keep your vessels safe within his borders, trusted his judgement in a world so far from the one you were in now.

venti blushed at the last word of your letter, the idea that you could love him even a fraction the amount that he loved you one he would never forget.

the wind picked up again, and venti leaned into it. if he closed his eyes, if he directed the current just so… for a brief moment, he could almost imagine that it was you.

[goldenmagnolias]

lost in the labyrinth of my mind

pairing: OC High Lord of Dusk x Archeron!Sister

summary: Reverie Archeron has always been different. Different in a good or bad way depends on who you asked. Now a High Fae, and with another war approaching she tries to be as helpful as she can around Velaris and with her baby nephew, but at a High Lord meeting, the countless dreams she has as a child and the feelings that are not quite hers suddenly make sense and things become something that she never could have seen coming.

masterlist / ao3

CHAPTER IX: HELIOTROPE

Reverie wondered if Ophiuchus could feel her anxiety.

She wondered how far reaching was the bond even if they hadn’t accepted it yet and part of her reprimanded herself once again for not ever asking her sisters more about mating bonds.

Surely she had read countless books, some on High Fae Culture and Customs and all kind of those things, as to not thread blindly into a new word, into this new society that she now belonged. But she barely had really come across anything relating to mating bonds. And she absolutely hated that it had never crossed her mind to look for it or even ask (And then was the whole tangent of Dusk Court being a mystery and not know off until a few hours ago and her having no idea of how it’s culture and customs worked).

She knew basics of what her sisters had commented and sprinkled in conversation. And yet nothing, nothing her sisters had said, nothing she had heard could encompass what she was feeling, nor tell her what he could be possibly tracking of those feelings.

It was warm. A warmth that very much the feeling of late dusk. Of when the daylight begins to give out into the darkness, when the world is held into a limbo. The warmth when the temperature begins to drop. Of walking barefoot on marble floors. Of reading a book while bundled up in wool blankets. That cozy warm feeling.

It was Opium poppies mixed with strawberries and sandalwood, all mixed up.

It was a soft song, a melody that soothed her bones and her mind, all the same.

It was the male that sat beside her, nothing but polite, sweet and kind to her. Who’s patient to listen to her and mindful enough to ask.

Still, all that didn’t change the fact that she could feel her heart hammering away. As her mind rushed around overthinking, as it often did.

Thoughts of the customs she didn’t know and would have to learn as to not offend him or his court.

Of what expectations and rules would be placed upon her.

Of what he would expect from her

Of what dusk probably looked like.

Of if was to leave with him to dusk now.

Of wondering if he would be kind like he’s being now or if he would change. if they’d have a companionship and friendship like her sisters had with their mates or if she would be fated for a relationship like mother and father.

“Reverie?” She hears her voice and blinks turning her head and finding silver eyes looking at her. Eyes that are definitely worried.

“Forgive me… I got lost in my head.” Reverie says, her cheeks flushing.

Damn it, Reverie. First impressions matter and you’re making a fool of yourself.

“No one will blame you if you’re overwhelmed.” Ophiuchus says, and his eyes seem to be tracing her face, searching.

Reverie merely nods her head, her hands moving back to her lap, clasping them together. “I-…” she trails off before breathing in, gathering her thoughts, “I assume you wish for me to accompany you back to Dusk.”

“Yes…” Ophiuchus says, nodding slightly, and Reverie can hear the caution on his tone, even though her eyes focus on the way a stray curl of midnight black hair, moves falling on his forehead, “yet even though I do wish that. It is your choice.”

Choice.

That’s not something she’s that used to having, to yielding. Her life has been more of a series of things falling into place and her getting comfortable with the circumstances, her adapting herself to wherever she was and what she felt it was needed.

“Oh…” she can’t help but letting out, in fact she doesn’t even notices she does so until she is hearing herself verbally reacting.

And her mind… her treacherous mind, and the thoughts of doubt and wariness that her old hag of a mother instilled in her of course make an appearance.

He probably finds you a nuisance and doesn’t want you. He thinks you silly and childish. He’s a lord and you’re just someone who was made and-.

She forces herself to tune it all out.

“You are more then welcome at Dusk. Whenever you wish to be there.” Ophiuchus adds, probably somehow having an inkling of what possible thoughts are on her mind.

*You don’t want me, you have no idea how broken I am.*

“I believe you’d like the court,” he says quietly, “if the thing with the so called Death God weren’t here. I wouldn’t think twice before offering you for us to go from city to city.”

“Maybe when he’s gone we can do that,” Reverie offers, something warming in her chest at the prospect.

“Anything you wish, My Lady.” Ophiuchus says.

“And…” she exhales, “if I wished to accompany you back to Dusk?”

“Then you can do so,” Ophiuchus says, a small grin blooming on his lips.

“And the catch?” She can’t help but asking, as trepidation fills her.

“Catch?” Ophiuchus frowns slightly, and it takes everything in Reverie not to move and smooth it with her fingers. 

“What do you wish from me?”

“I-“ Ophiuchus blinks, and a thousand and one emotions seem to flicker in his face. “There’s no catch, My Sweet-Eyed girl. You’re my mate and I’m yours. Simple as that. As I said, I just wish to know you.”

“I’m sorry for assuming.” Reverie replies quietly, he probably feels offended by such assumptions.

Repeating his previous actions, Ophiuchus delicately takes her hands — both of them, now — and brings them to his lips, softly kissing her knuckles. “You’re allowed to feel wary, to be overwhelmed, to make assumptions. Just also know that you can ask me whatever you wish, alright? Whatever troubles you, if I can bring you some sort of ease I will do such. I don’t mind answering questions, even though you assume are silly.”

Reverie nods, giving him a smile, a more carefree one than those she previously had given him, and her hands clutch his that are still holding hers.

“Okay.”

And apparently maybe, just maybe, the Mother decided to be kind to her.

….

taglist: @imma-too-many-fandoms

[withgreatpowercomesmyfuckingdick]

Do you have a list of all of 'original time line' Clouds tatoos? (From With great power-ect.)

Or are some of them plot relevant?

Hey! Thanks for the ask, I know some people were curious about this but I didn't quite get around to answering loll

So it's not completely plot relevant but the deets will be written into the story about their origin. We'll just call this a sort of tatt map lol

So all of Cloud's tatts are flowers, excluding Zack's name in Gongagan on the nape of his neck. Every tattoo he has surrounds or 'sprouts' from a scar. His entire back is a tribute to Zack and is a series of morning glories blooming from his spinal scar.

The dianthus, which was introduced in chapter 15, surrounds the scar from his Masamune stab wound. Why that is will be explained later in story ;)

Aerith does have her own tribute on his left shoulder, her signature yellow lily with a pink ribbon wrapped around the stem.

Cloud has an assortment of flowers pretty much all over him down to the waist. Bicep to wrist are a collection of smaller, almost random looking flowers, the main color being green and yellow with some flowers not even filled in with color, left to black outlines. His torso, however, has much larger and darker flowers, all filled in. The ones are his torso are the oldest and the first tattoos he got, so naturally they're a bit darker, but by the time he did his sleeves he had a slightly lighter view to getting the tattoos and was open to lighter colors and more variety.

On his right pec is a bundle of gladiolus that are a slightly lighter blue than Zack's tribute. There are anemones on his lower abs (dark blue and violet), chrysanthemums on his upper ribs and sides (either dark red or a washed out purple), series of heliotropes over his obliques (which come in bunches so they took a while, mainly a dark purple), and sweet-briers, which are his only pink flowers, near his hipbones and framing the anemones. All of them weave around and over scars, and in some cases, there's black ink outlining his scars if the flowers cover them.

I haven’t decided on the flowers for his arm tatts yet, but I’m more apt to make those a bit brighter and greener than the rest. I be turning Cloud to a walking arboretum istg

Hope this was a good answer lol, I've always had a vague picture in my head but I am writer, not artist. This was my first attempt at really writing it down, but however you picture it, you're accurate as long as Cloud looks hot asf XD

[moonliiteallniite]

A lengthy post cataloging my 60+ vial perfume collection

This is mainly a post for me to keep track of my ever-growing collection of perfume samples and bottles. In the future I’ll probably dedicate a post to each one to give my thoughts and reviews! But all that aside, here’s every perfume I’ve collected so far, with names and descriptions included.

BPAL SAMPLES

Alice’s Evidence - Containing nary a neutron of meaning: Rum-quince-cassis with prune and a bit of black ginger

The Antikythera Mechanism - Teakwood, oak, black vanilla, and tobacco

Al-Shairan - His scent is fiery, bright and thick with sweet sinfulness: clove, peach and orange with cinnamon, patchouli and dark incense notes

Blood Kiss - Lush, creamy vanilla and the honey of the sweetest kiss smeared with the vital throb of husky clove, swollen red cherries, but darkened with the vampiric sensuality of vetiver, soporific poppy and blood red wine, and a skin-light pulse of feral musk.

Bayou - A lazy, warm deep green scent with a thick aquatic undertone: Spanish moss, evergreen and cypress with watery blue-green notes and an eddy of hothouse flowers and swamp blooms

Black Lily - Breathtaking darkness, a vision of grace in shadow

Burial - The Dark Side of Earth: deep, brooding forest scents, including juniper and patchouli. The scent of upturned cemetery loam mingling with floral offerings to the dead

Chimera - The fiery, volatile scent of cinnamon, thickened by myrrh, honeysuckle, and copal

The Coiled Serpent - A potent yogic oil that stimulates the kundalini, provokes spiritual awakening, and releases the energy seated in your root chakra

Death Cap - A lethal poison bundled up in a dainty, innocent little package that was oft times found in ancient witches’ flying ointments and astral projection balms. A warm, soft, ruddy scent, earthy and mild

Delight - In ancient India it was believed that a specific combination of flower petals, when strewn across a couple’s bed, would amplify desire and sexual pleasure. This blend is a blend of the same floral essences, refined into a gloriously sinful perfume blend. Frangipani, with rose, tuberose, and jasmine

Deep in Earth - Rose geranium, Spanish moss, Irish yew, and graveyard dirt

Eat me - Three white cakes, vanilla, and red and black currants

Evil - Smouldering opium tar, tobacco absolute, green tea, black plum, kush, ambergris accord, ambrette seed, and costus root

Greed - Base and earthy, yet glittering with golden notes: patchouli, heliotrope, copal and oakmoss

Gnome - An explosive blend of effervescent golden ginger and black peppercorn with sarsaparilla, gurjum balsam, nutmeg, gear lubricant, and smoke

Highwayman - Vetiver with gardenia, blood red rose, night-blooming jasmine, a dash of cinnamon and a faint hint of leather

Inferno - The Dark Side of Fire: cinnamon, bitter almond, and neroli. Heavily spiced, torrid, and possibly conflagrant

Juke Joint - A bawdy, gleefully wicked and unruly scent: Kentucky Bourbon, sugar and a sprig of mint

Jezebel - A gloriously decadent blend of honey, roses, orange blossom and sandalwood

Miskatonic University - The scent of Irish coffee, dusty tomes and polished oakwood halls

Mata Hari - Her scent is striking and bold with a delicate yet dark undertone: five roses with soft jasmine, warmed by vanilla, fig, tonka bean and mahogany, spiced with a drop of coffee bean

Nephilim - Holy frankincense and hyssop in union with earthy fig, defiled by black patchouli and vetiver, with a chaotic infusion of lavender, cardamom, tamarind, rosemary, oakmoss and cypress

Old Demons of the First Class - Siberian musk, black clove, opoponax, tonka, black pepper, and neroli

Perversion - Smoky rum and black tobacco with a whisper of steamy leather with a splash of crystalline chardonnay, layered over a sensual, sweet, and deceptively magnetic base of tonka

Sjofn - Our song to the Norse Goddess of Love is scented with apples and birch and bound with apple blossoms

Seraphim - A perfume sacred to the highest of the angelic hosts: calla lily, wisteria, white sandalwood, Damascus rose and frankincense

Schrodinger’s Cat - A paradoxical scent experiment! – tangerine, sugared lime, pink grapefruit, oakmoss, lavender, zdravetz, and chocolate peppermint

Tiefling Therapist - A soothing, centering blend of white and red sandalwood, champaca attar, frankincense, and brimstone

Whitechapel - White musk, lime, lilac and citron

Wilde - A sophisticated traditional gentleman’s cologne, with just the slightest taint of patchouli’s passion, tonka bean’s decadence, the philanthropy of bergamot, moss’ cynicism, the sharp wit of lavender, and the hopeless romantic longing of jasmine and thyme

Yorick - Grave dirt, bone, decay, angel’s trumpet, and moldering scraps of shroud: the essence of finality

Zombi - Dried roses, rose leaf, Spanish moss, oakmoss and deep brown earth

(As an aside, about half of these are free imps that came with full size bottles I ordered!)

Alkemia Samples

Salome - A seductively inspiring arrangement to pique the lustful imagination. An overture of not so innocent magnolia underscored with a sly caress of Queen of the Night, a fulsomeness of nubile black grapes and plums, skin musk bathed in spilled cognac, and ruthless twist of bitter orange, blended with an ancient Arabian love philtre of crushed vanilla and tonka bean, mysore sandalwood, vetiver, cedar, and red oud

Caveau Des Innocents - Tabac, dark coffee, piquant cloves, rum soaked pears, candied citron, dark caramel, and star anise bathed in intoxicating swirls of opoponax, labdanum, hashish, benzoin resinoid, vanilla incense, and guaiac wood

Ghost Fire - A luminous attraction of ethereal white ambers. Hauntingly beautiful

Sigil - A recipe in an ancient 16th century grimoire that includes olibanum frankincense, lignum aloes, bdellium, styrax, black honey, and euphorbium; the essence of "Stones of Immortality" - opium thebaicum, dried citrus, and the quintessence of gold; and an alchemist's compounding of coffee beans and ritual herbs

Hippie Spirit - A bohemian love-fest of resinous head shop incenses, sexy skin musk, slightly dirty patchouli, groovy champa blossoms, and flowering cannabis

Gothique - The scent of midnight mass in a medieval cathedral. A Byzantine monastic incense recipe of Somalian frankincense, styrax benzoin, Arabian myrrh, cassia, spikenard, canella, Liquidambar orientalis, labdanum, Atlas cedar, and vetiver

Carmilla - A tantalizing enigma of Ambre marocain, cashmere musk, Malgas lily, Ylang-ylang, dark Bourbon rose, soft patchouli, and erotic whispers of jasmine incense

In a Northern Wood - A primeaval forest sanctuary of Elemi balsam, balsam fir needles, charred cedar heartwood, dark oakmoss, opoponax, aged oudwood, deerstongue fern, woodsmoke, aromatic fungi, patchouli, and loam

Dusk in Autumn - An inviting mystery of amberwood, Lapsang Souchong tea, salted cream caramel, and spiced teacakes

Nature of the Beast - An animalistically sensual carnality of Amyris wood, Elemi balsam, and raw dark musk with Haitian vetiver, ambroxan, spiced patchouli, labdanum and botanical pheromones

Carnival of Illustrious Hearts - A glitteringly gourmet gala of French sugarcreams, candied orange blossoms, raspberry cotton candy, rosewater torte filling, and Bourbon vanilla amber

All Hallows Eve 2021 - A spookalicious cauldron of magic, mystery, remembrance, childhood nostalgia, and sweet blessings for darker times. Warm toasted marshmallows, drifting woodsmoke, black licorice, star anise, cardamon pods, sugared amber, tonka beans, and patchouli infused bourbon vanilla

Memoriam - An olfactory ode to love and loss. Heirloom roses, memories wrapped in woodsmoke, a scattering of ashes

Industrial Sabotage - A cataclysmic wreckage of burnt wires; twisted melted steel; shattered machinery, and gunpowder

The Center of the Universe - From astronauts' descriptions of space and aliphatic esters of the Milky Way - welded metal, gunpowder, burnt almond cookies, ozone, raspberries, rum

Deus Ex Machina - Fire hardened steel, rusted iron, warm motor oil, wet cement, burnt copper wires, and grey amber

Saint Louis Cemetery #1 - An atmospheric brooding of Spanish moss, crumbling stone, old cement, red clay brick, and graveyard dirt

Supernatural - A prismatic shapeshifter of Iso-E, Ambrox, cruelty-free Tonkin musk, and intricate spirals of aroma molecules

Black Iris - The spring forecast is rainy with a chance of purple. Purple iris and Queen Elizabeth orris root pillowed in a soft nimbostratus raincloud

Charming of the Plough - A paen of the awakening earth - bright new greens, freshly turned soil, well worn leather, anise hyssop, smokey lavender, sexy-dirty indolic jasmine, vanilla grass, and oakmoss

Frondescence - A verdancy of fresh fern fronds, wild geraniums, damp moss, green patchouli, vetiver root, early meadowgrass, and tumbling wetland streams

Inner Sanctum - A spiritual serenity of Hinoki temple cedar, carved Palisander rosewood, white ambergris, lemon cypress, sandalwood incense, grounding vetiver root, and healing sandalore

Surcie - A sweet confection of affection - heavenly rosewater chiffon, soft jasmine musk, flirty mandarin orange, creamy vanilla, and alluring Egyptian amber

Tulips and Chimneys - An urban springtime of rainy aldehydes, wet asphalt, industrial steam engines, farmer's market bouquets of fresh tulips, Toulousain violets, mint pastels, and a warm touch of clove viburnum

Lover Tells of the Rose - Rambling wild roses, lemon verbena, white pearl tea leaves, white patchouli, and a springtime rebirth of new greens and wet mosses

Gaea - Forest loam, new ferns in decaying leaves, maple sap flowing over lichens, mosses and wet stones at the edge of a vernal pool

Shinrin Yoku - A forest hymn - Japanese grapefruit, petitgrain, black pepper, spicebush, sunlit green cedar, conifers, green patchouli, vetiver, stream water, wet clay, and dark loam

Baccante - High bush blueberries, wild ivy, Spanish lavender, aged oakmoss, tonka, decaying bark, and forest fungi

Vert sur le Vert - Green, green, green, and more freshly smooshed sweet greens, new grasses, new leaves

Midnight Garden - An incantation in the language of flowers: tuberose (dangerous pleasures), lily (majestic beauty), honeysuckle (binding love), gardenia (secret passions) and moonflower (inspiring love)

BPAL Full Sizes

Nosferatu - As soft as grave dust and as dry as a breath drawn within a long forgotten crypt, this is Nosferatu: desiccated herbs and gritty earth brought to life with a swell of robust and sanguineous red wines

Anubis - His scent is a blend of holy myrrh, storax, balsam, and embalming herbs

Oblivion - Salvation found in darkness beyond darkness, the blessed sleep of nothingness. Dark musk, wood spice, labdanum, patchouli, dark African woods, and saffron

Worm Moon 2011 - This is a melding of Victorian Grotesquery and springtime fecundity: mold-crusted dirt, decomposing organic matter, coffin wood, drooping funeral flowers, congealed blood, gloomy lunar oils, and cuckoo flower with something moist lurking underneath

Dark Chocolate, Whiskey, & Hazelnut Cream

Phallus Acrobatics - Strawberries, blueberries, heavy cream, honey dust, lotus root, ylang ylang, lavender, and vanilla flower

P*nis Penetrating a V*gina in a Pickle Barrel - Lemon peel, lemon leaf, white musk, white tea, cardamom, petitgrain, star anise, and raw ginger

Womb Furie 2022 - An itch that needs to be scratched: Snake Oil and three types of honey

Alkemia Full Sizes

Halloween Alchemy 2021 - Halloween spice cookies, apple butter, a dusting of pumpkin spice, oak leaves, pine needles, and a nostalgic nibble of candy corn

Lavender Dreaming Alchemy - A pride month alchemy of history and symbolism - sheer summer florals, flirty skin musks, and playful aquatics with a streak of French lavender, bitten ripe peaches, and oranges on offering plates.

Other

Epicene (by Blial Cabal) - Red Peppercorn, bergamot, fig, oakmoss, amber, cedarwood, tobacco, vanilla

[gmanwhore]

Ok sorry right now I am going bonkers over flowers and their meaning because it's so cool!!! Ok so a bouquet I imagine Evil G-man giving Mitchell, two bundles with one tied to the left and one to the right, both set in a vase so it is certain they are standing up (you see because flowers upside down mean the opposite, bouquets tied to the left are in reference to the reciprocal and to the right is representative of the giver's feelings):

Left bundle: Arborvitae (unending friendship), Bay (glory), Pink Carnation (I'll never forget you), Coriander (hidden worth (this one is super important especially after The Bigger Fish tries to convince Evil G-man that Mitchell's use has come to an end)), Nastiruim (victory in battle) Dill (power against evil), Gladious (victory), and Heliotrope (eternal love)

Right bundle: Hydrangea (gratitude for being understood), Yellow Lily (elated!!!), Nastrium (victory in battle), Purple Hyacinth (Please forgive me), Lily of the Valley (return of happiness), Orange Rose (excitement), Yellow Rose (friendship/I care), and Sweet Pea (blissful pleasure)

[cantankerouscatfish]

alright. who ate the heliotrope tags. I KNOW there was more than one bundle. where are they.

[shopofthemoment]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: new Sol De Janeiro ☀︎︎ Brazilian Joia Smoothing Conditioner ☀︎︎ Luxury Travel.

[joanielorraine]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Daisy Fuentes heliotrope combo print v-neck top.

[mae-dwrites]

A Bundle of Heliotropes - Chapter 3 - Lull

| Masterlist | Previous | You’re Here <3 | Next |

| Ao3 | Wattpad |

When Marinette woke up her room was quiet. It was quiet?

Marinette sat up in alarm and scrabbled to get out of bed, “Tikki?”

No response. Her panic started to grow, “Tikki.”

“Guardian, do not panic,” Sass floated to her, making the girl slip and hit her head on the ladder. Sass winced while Marinette rubbed her head, hanging upside down on the ladder. Sass floated down to her face, “The ressst of the Kwami are down stairss with your parents.”

Marinette blinked as she took in the words she noticeably relaxed before pulling herself up to get on the ground. She rubbed the back of her head with a small frown, she felt almost as embarrassed as she was irritated with the injury.

Marinette looked to the snake kwami with mild confusion, “Why are they down there?”

“I don’t know everything, I do know Tikki sssaid that she would talk to them in the morning if they would like,” Sass explained, “eventually otherss joined her asss they got bored up here. None of usss wished to wake you, but there wasn’t much to do that would keep usss quiet. Ssso we joined Tikki, and I stayed ssso that you would be lessss likely to panic.”

Marinette nodded, “Thank you Sass, I appreciate it a lot.”

“Of courssse Guardian,” Sass bowed his head.

“You can join everyone else if you’d like,” Marinette said smiling at the snake. Sass nodded before phasing through her floor to downstairs. Now that Marinette was more awake when she strained her ears to listen she could barely hear the sound of voices from downstairs.

Marinette yawned despite herself and stretched. She pulled on a sweater before having another stretch and rubbed her face. Marinette came down to see the island covered in foods prepared, all things the Kwami enjoyed or favored. Usually the Kwami would be rambunctious when they didn’t have to be careful, but all the Kwami were relaxing, eating, or talking to her parents.

Marinette blinked as she took in the scene before her.

Tikki, Sass, and Longg sat on the coffee table munching on their respective snacks while Trixx and Pollen sat on Sabine’s head; they were listening just as intently to the conversation as some of the other Kwami. Mullo sat in the mother’s hand. Stompp, Daizzi, Barkk, Ziggy, and Orikko all rested contently at various levels of her father.

Lastly Xuppu, Kalkki, and Roarr sat on the island, Xuppu playing around the food but careful to not make a mess. Kalkki made an annoyed but amused neigh as she munched on a sugar cube.

Marinette looked around the room searching for Fluff, she found the time bunny on the shelf observing the scene. A small smile on their face as they munched on carrots, her piercing eyes flicked to Marinette.

Marinette was used to the Kwami after all the months of the group residing in her home, especially with spending most of her time with them. Fluff was chaotic in nature, but time also held order in her delicate chaos.

“Good Morning Fluff,” Marinette smiled and nodded.

“Is it morning? May it be noon? Or tea time? Why is it not dawn,” Fluff sprouted out what would seem incoherent. It was best not to overthink her maze of words.

Marinette’s smile softened, “Sun high, clear sky.”

Fluff beamed at the response and floated over to the Guardian, she nuzzled and rubbed the top of her head on Marinette’s forehead. Marinette giggled the bunny’s fur and whiskers tickled her with affection.

“Good morning sweetie.” Tom and Sabine said in unison.

Marinette looked over to see her parents now facing her. Her father radiated pride and his eyes were glassy, it made Marinette swallow. Her father always wore his heart on his sleeve but very rarely did she see him cry. Seeing her father look at her like this made her heart tight and want to fall on the floor and let it all wash over her, but of course, she didn’t do that.

She looked over to her mother, a woman who always kept cool but was a gamut of raging and unfiltered emotions. A woman who felt everything so wholly under the surface. A small understanding smile was set and Sabine’s eyes crinkled as she took in her daughter.

A strong and confident young woman, her heart ached looking at her now. Her heart had hurt before looking at her, but that was when she was worrying, scared of what would happen to her baby. Now she knew it was far worse than she’d allowed herself to even entertain.

“Good morning,” Marinette smiled back feeling nervous as she looked at Tikki. Her Kwami hadn’t said anything about speaking to her parents. While she believes there was a reason, Marinette feels like she should’ve been there.

Many Kwami sprouted shouts of Guardian and Marinette excitedly, some even coming to her and flying around her talking in rapid succession. The bakers laughed at the magic beings.

Sabine motioned for Marinette to join them. Marinette couldn’t help that her insides swirled as they usually did, although this time was certainly different in multiple aspects.

“Marinette,” Sabine started making said girl straighten up, “we have been speaking to Tikki to better understand what we can and where she can speak of.” Sabine nodded to the Kwami as she floated happily to Marinette.

“While we don’t like it we understand the need to keep secrets surrounding all of this, and that you even telling us is breaking the rules. We,” Sabine stopped for a moment to clear her throat; she took one of her daughter’s hands, “appreciate you for telling us. Even if it’s rather unconventional.”

Sabine chuckled while Tom brought his daughter into a comforting side hug.

“But we do think we need to figure out our own system or set of rules,” Tom spoke up.

Marinette looked at her father taking in their words carefully, she nodded.

“I understand and I agree,” she said thoughtfully, her brows down as her mind went miles a minute thinking over possible ways they could go about this. Marinette soon grabbed out a piece of paper to help sort her thoughts out.

The family and minigods spent the morning discussing her leaving classes, the bakery, her friends, and more. She had permission to say her parents needed for an emergency, or to just straight up leave the class no questions asked.

As they spoke the more they relaxed, joked and simply enjoyed their time together. Marinette was far more relaxed than she had in years.

“It’s not like they can just chase me,” Marinette joked to her parents as a knock sounded on their door. Marinette gasped and leaped across the room as Kwamis hid, “Nino’s birthday.”

Marinette looked back and didn’t see a single Kwami, her parents gave small reassuring smiles. A rapid knock sounded followed by an impatient voice. Marinette finally opened the door revealing Alya and Nino, their eyes were red and puff but they held the biggest smiles on their faces.

The dread that had been previously there faded away, Marinette looked between the two, “Did-”

She was cut off by Alya yanking hers and Nino’s intertwined hands in her face, “Yes.”

Green turtles with black lotus flowers resting on top of the shells sat between their thumb and pointer fingers. Marinette noticed Alya’s turtle was darker in shade but aside from that they were just mirrors of the others.

Marinette pulled them into a tight hug telling them how happy she was for them.

---

“Here dear, eat something,” Ma Kent said sliding a slice of pie to Damian.

“Thank you Ma Kent,” Damian nodded taking the fork from the older woman.

“Of course, dear,” Ma said with a sweet smile. She turned to cut a slice for herself, “I remember when I got my mark.”

Damian took a breath; of course, Jon had mentioned it to his family. Well, his father must have talked to Clark of course, and Tim to Kon. Damian hadn’t gone out of his way to find out if Tim had told Kon, but Damian did not doubt his reasoning for it was sound.

Ma continued to recount fondly how her sister had teased her and her friends had thrown a party, and when she had met her dear Jonathan.

Damian could not hold malice toward the woman, she only knew so much, but she knew enough. He was sure Ma was just trying to ease any “nerves” or “fears” he had about meeting his soulmate.

And he was not “nervous” or “scared.” That is simply prosperous. He had concerns about meeting them.

What if they were a civilian?

A beat.

What if they weren’t a civilian?

Damian paused for half a second, but that was enough.

“Damian?” Jon who had been doing chores around the farm was now next to him.

Damian blinked. What was worse, he hadn’t actually thought about it. He hadn’t wanted to think about any of it. He never let himself entertain anything related to soulmates, his soulmate. He should have, he should have been planning.

“Dear,” Ma Kent spoke softly in a question.

Damian stared at his half-eaten pie, his brows barely drawn together.

The young vigilante cleared his throat, “I am fine. Just had a thought.”

Ma Kent smiled and gently rested a hand on the boy’s, “It won’t be easy will it?”

Damian looked up to her, sometimes he forgot how similar the woman was to Alfred at times. All observing and knowing.

Ma gave a light squeeze, “I’m sure they’ll be just fine.” Her eyes flickered between Damian and Jon, “Clark was worried too when he got his, no matter what we said.” She fondly shook her head recounting the days of her son.

“Whoever it is, they’ll fit right in,” she stated as a matter of fact.

Damian ever so barely pursed his lips as he looked away for a moment, when he looked back at the woman and nodded with gratitude, “Thank you Ma Kent.”

-

Robin’s cape flittered behind him in the slight breeze, the smog-filled sky hiding the moon from the beautiful chaos of the city. His family was spread across the city, Robin was awaiting instructions from Oracle for the area he had already run through twice that night. A few muggings around, so simple for him to handle.

For as much as he would like to rest after being up for so long he wasn’t ready to go yet, but he would be called home for the night soon.

The sound of heels made him turn around, not even five meters away from him stood Talia al Ghul.

“Darling you need to be more aware of your surroundings,” Talia chastised with an unsatisfied smile. She looked to her son’s hand where it lay on his katana. Talia straightened in realization, she held a small frown and her eyes softened, “Oh Dami. I promise I’m not here to fight.”

The mask did not hide how Robin looked her over before slowly removing his hand from his weapon. He straightened and raised his chin as he looked at his mother.

“What is it you want,” Robin stayed put, not wanting to let his guard down.

“My blessing,” Talia took a small step forward. “Not that you need it of course, and Nyssa would not approve,” she waved her hand as though to dismiss her sister from the conversation, her disdain bleeding into the words.

Damian looked his mother over again, trying to find the deceit or hidden agenda. There was none to be found.

“Blessing for what exactly Mother,” Damian asked, adding the title hesitantly. He knew what she meant, but he wanted to hear her say it.

Talia smiled amused, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” She knew he hadn’t, but she knew what he wanted. What she had wanted so long ago. “Blessing to let them live.”

She could see him relax, her smile became fond as she looked at her son-

An “oof” came out of Talia, a sound she never made, as her son’s arms hugged her. She reached her arms up holding her precious son close. When he pulled away she held his face, a near pout on her face as she looked up at him,

“When did you get so tall dear?”

Not that his mother could see it, he looked away.

“Robin, there looks to be a kidnapping in process a block away from your current location,” Oracle stated through his comm.

“On it,” Damian stated. He turned to leave but looked back at his mother, “Thank you.”

Talia only nodded before leaving him, her heels not making a sound as he leaped from rooftop to rooftop.

---

Ladybug’s leg hung off the Eiffel Tower between the bars, laying on her back she watched what stars she could make out with the monument lit for the night. Her hand absentmindedly rubbed her collarbone, her breathing was long and slow.

She was used to her suit changing little bits as she grew up, almost every few months something new changed. She remembers when Chat and her would freak out about it, making jokes about growing into the suits.

Ladybug rolled her eyes fondly.

Alya would rant for hours about the suit changes and chase her during Akumas just to get photos to show every little change she noticed.

She now sported a short cape garment over her shoulders down to her elbows; black on the outside and red on the inside keeping the famous ladybug colors prominent. When it separated it mimicked the way a ladybug’s wings spread when they would take flight. Tikki had been ecstatic over that; loving how much more her lovely insects were represented than just colors; while Alya had deep-dived into ladybugs and other beetles.

Her suit had inverted from her abdomen to her thighs, it helped to work with her hiding from Akumas in dark places. Her suit had become thicker and adjusted to give her proper traction on her soles and heels.

A quiet thump sounded near her, she stayed where she was at ease knowing who was there. Alya usually went home after patrol so she could be there in case her sisters bargained into her room, they did so often; the littles when they had a nightmare or Nora to ambush Alya. All out of trust and love.

A mischievous smile came into her view blocking the sky. His wild hair whipped in every which direction it could. His mask had slowly grown to look more like a second skin on his cheekbones, temples, and lower forehead.

Ladybug believed it was him growing to keep his identity a secret more over time.

“Why hello m’lady, a fine evening is it not?” Chat grinned, his cat ears twitched making his dangling earrings swing.

Ladybug smiled contently, “It is.”

Chat Noir brought himself down with his legs crossed, Ladybug lifted her head and he scooted forward so her head was on his lap. Chat brushed her bangs back gently, careful not to nick her with his sharp nails. Ladybug let her eyes close, the slight breeze brushed over her face.

“Is something wrong,” Chat asked. Her eyes snapped open, Chat frowned, she blinked a few times before replying with a light nervous laugh, “No, no, of course not.”

He obviously didn’t believe her but decided to let her have this, “While I’d hope not, especially since I found this present on patrol.” Chat said back to his puckish attitude.

“A present,” she restated surprised, she shouldn’t be really.

While he didn’t know when her birthday was he did know it was close to the beginning of May, and that seemed to be enough. The first year he had scrambled to get her a present, it had been a very simple one a keychain with a paw pad. Small and cute, easy to hide, also was so basic he wouldn’t figure out her identity if he saw someone with one.

The previous year he had bought her a paw print plush (he had a theme so far) and a bouquet of yellow roses when he had been much more bent on the just friends train. But he had also bought her four bolts of velvet after she had talked about how much she wanted to use it and experiment with it. Marinette hadn’t touched it for months too scared to make the wrong thing or ruin the expensive material; she hadn’t made anything with it till this last Christmas, and that was only with two of them.

She was almost dreading what he’d gotten her thing year with the drastic change between the two years.

Chat Noir nodded eagerly, he took out a moderately sized bag. Ladybug relaxed a bit as she sat up, seeing that he hadn’t gotten so big this time around.

“You want to take a guess,” He asked as she sat up.

“Not really,” she said offhandly.

“You sure,” he pressed, leaning forward.

Ladybug giggled, “Yes I’m sure chaton.”

His ears flattened as he handed the bag over to her, “Fine.”

Ladybug smiled at the feline hero as she took the bag from him.

She took tissues out tossing them playfully at her partner; he glared at her which only made her smile wider. Ladybug looked in the bag to pull out a yellow bouquet of roses, she looked at him exasperated.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop giving me flowers?”

“And yellow roses mean friendship,” he said pleading, “I double-checked this time, you’re not making me second guess this time.”

Ladybug gave him a “seriously” look before lightly whacking him with the bouquet. He hissed at her making her whack him again.

“Rude,” he squinted at her.

“You’re rude,” she stuck her tongue out at him. She grabbed out a small baggy with two little paw charms on hair ties. She smiled at the simple gift, “I love them.”

She reached back in while Chat beamed. She pulled out two envelopes, one white and one purple. She raised an eyebrow at her partner.

“It doesn’t matter which one you open,” he waved, his voice revealing his nervousness.

Ladybug set the purple one down before opening the white one. She noticed Chat tap his fingers on his knee as he watched her.

She took out the pink page that was written in his neat handwriting.

You didn’t happen to get your mark?

There was a box for yes and no.

Ladybug frowned, she knew her kitty’s birthday was coming later in the year. She swallowed as she looked up at him.

“Chat,” She started. He looked at her, his cat eyes piercing her heart. Full of fear and hope, she knew she was about to break his heart. She swallowed again and opened her mouth but no words came out.

She nodded with tightly sealed lips. She blinked tears away rapidly in a poor attempt to not cry. She watched as he made an inaudible, “Oh.”

He covered his mouth as the tears ran down his face.

She quickly put everything back in the bag and setting it aside she pulled Chat into a hug.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” She murmured into his hair and rubbing circles on his back.

“I just wanted one of my best friends,” he hiccuped out. “Just a friend was all.”

“I know,” Ladybug gave a squeeze. “I’m sure whoever it is will be your friend first.”

And if they stayed there longer than normal, it wasn’t like Paris would know.

•

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[toddstreeservices]

Twisty Trees for Your Landscape Specimen

Need help deciding which trees with twisted trunks and branches to use as a specimen on your landscape? Knowing which tree species grow in a twisted form will help you determine which one to plant as a centerpiece on your beautiful landscape.

toddsmariettatreeservices.com gathered the following species and growing information for naturally twisty trees to consider for your landscape’s specimen tree.

What Causes a Twisted Tree?

Spiral or twisted patterns are clever tree survival adaptations. Since the bark and wood of trees do not grow in unison, the spiral pattern beneath the bark may not be evident until the bark drops from the tree.

Tree wood cells that must support heavy loads of massive branches and a dense crown, growing in an excessively windy location, or grow on unusually uneven land, like shore pines that grow in windy and sandy areas, can grow in a twisted pattern to provide more strength to the tree and its branches.

Environmental factors like prevailing winds, compromised roots, and physical barriers can cause trees to twist and adapt. A spiral wood grain efficiently and evenly delivers water and nutrients throughout the tree when straight grain wouldn’t be sufficient. Other common theories include the following:

Tree genetics

Heliotropism (tracking the sun)

The Coriolis Effect (causing the clockwise wind pattern and ocean current in the northern hemisphere)

Regardless of why they twist, they are a sight to behold as they mature. Consider the following twisty tree species for your landscape needs:

Jack Pine (Pinus banksiana)

Jack pine needles typically grow in bundles of two, the tree’s cones are tightly wrapped and slightly curved, while the tree’s bark is thin and flaky on younger trees, maturing into thicker plates as they age. This species has crooked branching and trunk development when grown in open landscapes (rather than forested or crowded situations), giving it an oversized bonsai appearance.

USDA Hardiness Zones – 2 through 6 Mature Size – This tree reaches 40 to 50 feet with a spread of 15 to 20 feet Lifespan – 80 to 100+ years

Scotch Pine (Pinus sylvestris)

The Scotch pine is a fast-growing, medium-sized evergreen conifer that typically grows with a conical to columnar (often irregular and contorted) habit and then develops an open, rounded irregular, or gnarled crown as it ages. Cones are small and rounded, while needles typically grow in twisted bunches of two.

USDA Hardiness Zones – 3 through 7 Mature Size – This tree reaches 30 to 60 feet with a spread of 30 to 40 feet Lifespan – 150 to 300 years

Japanese Black Pine (Pinus thunbergii)

The Japanese black pine is an attractive evergreen conifer tree with a typically flat-topped pyramidal form with no prominent central leader. As this species ages, it grows irregular and asymmetrical, with drooping branches. The tree is noted for its shrubby habit and curved trunk.

USDA Hardiness Zones – 5 through 9 Mature Size – This tree reaches 20 to 60 feet with a spread of 10 to 20 feet Lifespan – 15 to 20 years

Cork Oak (Quercus suber)

Unlike other oak trees, cork oak is a vibrant evergreen. The thick, gnarled dark grey bark is the portion known as “cork.” This tree can form a twisted trunk with sprawling branches.

USDA Hardiness Zones – 7 through 9 Mature Size – This tree reaches 30 to 65 feet with an equally sized spread Lifespan – Over 200 years

Overcup Oak (Quercus lyrata)

Overcup oak is a medium-sized tree with an irregular crown and twisted branches. Native to North American east coastal plains, this tree’s often twisted growth reduces its value as a timber tree.

USDA Hardiness Zones – 5 through 9 Mature Size – This tree reaches 45 to 70 feet with a spread of 35 to 50 feet Lifespan – 80 to 100+ years

Willow (Peppermint) Myrtle (Agonis flexuosa)

This species resembles a weeping willow (Salix babylonica) tree from a distance due to its long, drooping leaves. It is distinctive because of its powerful peppermint fragrance. This tree produces clusters of small white flowers, and its weeping branches partially conceal its twisted trunk.

USDA Hardiness Zones – 8b through 11 Mature Size – This tree reaches 10 to 15 feet with a spread of 8 to 10 feet Lifespan – 50 to 80 years

Twisted Acacia (Acacia schaffneri)

Twisted Acacia is a spiny, spreading, multi-stemmed large shrub or small tree. The stems have many paired, pin-like spines and are pale to blackish. When young, a twisted Acacia needs aggressive pruning to maximize its gnarled trunk and branch growth.

USDA Hardiness Zones – 9 through 11 Mature Size – This tree reaches 20 to 25 feet with a spread of 25 to 30 feet Lifespan – 30 years

Trees With Twisted Trunks

Some trees have a tendency for a “pronounced” twisted appearance where the trunk deviates from the species’ typical straight growth. Planting a tree that exhibits twisted trunk or branch growth adds curiosity and interest to a landscape and serves as a focal point or specimen tree. When choosing a tree species, select one that has this tendency. It is not guaranteed that an individual young tree will develop pronounced twists, but the result is worth the gamble.

Twisty Trees

In this article, you discovered species and growing information about several trees that grow with twisted trunks, branches, or both.

Knowing which tree species have twisting growth patterns will help you decide which to use as your landscape’s specimen tree.

Lack of info about twisted tree species may cause you to plant the wrong tree.

Sources: wta.org/news/signpost/why-do-trees-grow-in-spirals savetheredwoods.org/blog/forest/why-so-some-trees-grow-in-spirals/ nfs.unl.edu/woody-plants/jack-pine plants.ces.ncsu.edu/plants/pinus-sylvestris/ uaex.uada.edu/yard-garden/resource-library/plant-week/Pinus-thunbergii-Japanese-Black-Pine-12-21-2017.aspx sites.redlands.edu/trees/species-accounts/cork-oak/ rangeplants.tamu.edu/plant/twisted-acacia-huisachillo/ selectree.calpoly.edu/tree-detail/agonis-flexuosa

Todd’s Marietta Tree Services

Marietta, GA (678) 505-0266

For the original version of this article visit: https://www.toddsmariettatreeservices.com/twisty-trees-for-your-landscape-specimen/

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