#how to remove a tree stump

[chrisstumps05]

Ran Into Problems Grinding This Massive Root Ball

[peltonstreeservices]

How to Remove a Palm Tree Stump: A Complete Guide by Pelton's Tree and Land Services, Inc.

When a palm tree is removed from your property, the stump that's left behind can be more than just an eyesore—it can become a tripping hazard, a breeding ground for pests, and an obstacle to future landscaping plans. If you're searching for how to remove a palm tree stump safely and effectively in Gautier, MS, you've come to the right place.

At Pelton's Tree and Land Services, Inc., we’ve been serving the Mississippi Gulf Coast for over 25 years with expert tree removal, trimming, stump grinding, and landscaping services. Our state-licensed arborists are here to help homeowners and property managers manage and maintain healthy, beautiful outdoor spaces. In this guide, we’ll walk you through everything you need to know about palm tree stump removal—why it matters, what your options are, and how our professional services can help.

Why You Should Remove a Palm Tree Stump

Palm tree stumps are notorious for being tough to handle, especially if the tree was large and mature. Here are several compelling reasons to get rid of that stump:

Safety: Stumps can be dangerous for children playing in the yard or people walking nearby.

Pest Control: Leftover stumps often attract termites, ants, and fungi.

Aesthetics: A stump can ruin the appearance of your lawn or landscape design.

Space Reclamation: Removing the stump gives you back valuable yard space for planting, landscaping, or new construction.

Prevent Regrowth: Some palm species can sprout new shoots from the roots.

Challenges of Palm Tree Stump Removal

Removing a palm tree stump isn’t as straightforward as it may seem. Palm trees have a fibrous root system rather than a deep tap root. While this may sound easier to manage, the dense and widespread fibres can make grinding more difficult. They tend to tangle, making manual removal very time-consuming and physically demanding.

Without the right equipment and expertise, this task can become overwhelming. That’s where we come in.

Palm Tree Stump Removal Methods

There are multiple ways to remove a palm tree stump, each with pros and cons depending on the stump size, location, and urgency.

1. Manual Removal (Not Recommended for Large Stumps)

If the palm tree was relatively young or small:

Use a shovel, mattock, and saw to cut away the stump and exposed roots.

Dig around the base to expose the root ball.

Sever the roots and pry the stump out of the ground.

However, this method is labour-intensive and rarely successful for large or old palm stumps.

2. Chemical Stump Removal

Some people attempt to accelerate stump decay using chemicals:

Drill holes into the stump

Fill them with a potassium nitrate-based stump remover

Wait several weeks to months for the wood to soften

While this can work over time, it’s not environmentally friendly, and it's slow. Plus, it doesn't remove the root system entirely.

3. Stump Grinding – The Professional Way

At Pelton's Tree and Land Services, we highly recommend stump grinding for palm tree stump removal:

Fast and efficient: Our specialised grinders remove the stump below ground level within hours.

Clean and tidy: We clean up all the debris, leaving your yard looking well-kept.

Prevents regrowth: Grinding destroys the central root system, eliminating any chance of sprouts.

Replanting ready: You can re-landscape the area or lay sod immediately after the service.

This is the safest, most effective, and eco-friendly solution available today.

Why Choose Pelton’s Tree and Land Services?

Located in Gautier, Mississippi, our team of certified arborists offers reliable, affordable, and experienced services across the region. With over 25 years of experience, we understand Gulf Coast landscaping better than anyone.

Here’s what makes us your best choice:

Licensed and insured arborist services

Commercial and residential service offerings

Full-service landscaping and tree care

Stump grinding, tree trimming, and tree removal

Firewood and rough-cut lumber for sale

Custom wood milling services

Free estimates with honest advice

Locally owned and operated

We not only remove your tree stumps—we enhance the overall health and appeal of your property.

Other Tree & Land Services We Offer

In addition to palm tree stump removal, we provide:

Tree Removal – For dead, hazardous, or unwanted trees

Tree Trimming & Pruning – Keep trees healthy and well-shaped

Stump Removal & Grinding – Thorough removal and site cleanup

Plant Health Care – Diagnose and treat plant diseases and pests

Sod & Topsoil Replacement – Refresh your yard with lush greenery

Custom Wood Milling – Turn tree trunks into usable lumber and slabs

Land Clearing – Prep your property for new landscaping or construction

Whatever your landscape needs, we’ve got the experience and equipment to handle it right.

Tips to Consider Before Stump Removal

Before proceeding with stump removal, think about:

Underground Utilities – Always check for gas lines, water pipes, and power cables.

Location of the Stump – Close to buildings or fences? Grinding may be a better option.

Future Landscaping Plans – Are you replanting or laying sod? We can prepare the area.

Accessibility – Ensure our equipment can safely access the site.

At Pelton’s, we handle all these considerations during our site evaluation.

How Long Does It Take to Remove a Palm Tree Stump?

Most stumps can be removed in under two hours with professional grinding equipment. Time varies based on:

Stump diameter

Age of the stump

Soil type

Proximity to structures

After a quick assessment, we’ll give you a clear timeline and price estimate.

Get Your Free Estimate Today

If you're dealing with a stubborn palm tree stump, don’t settle for guesswork or slow, frustrating DIY methods. Let the professionals handle it with care, speed, and precision.

Contact Pelton's Tree and Land Services, Inc.

📍 Address: 2104 Graveline Road, Gautier, MS 39553 📞 Phone: (228) 497-6107 🌐 Website: www.peltonstreeservices.com 📧 Email: brian.pelton@att.net / peltonstreeservices22@gmail.com 🕐 Hours: Monday – Friday: 7:00 AM – 5:00 PM Saturday & Sunday: Closed

Leave Your Tree Care to the Professionals at Pelton’s Tree and Land Services, Inc.

From palm tree stump removal to full landscaping support, we’re proud to serve Gautier, MS, and surrounding areas with unmatched care and craftsmanship. Give us a call today and take the first step toward a cleaner, safer, and more beautiful yard. More

[chigwelltreeservices1]

https://www.article1.co.uk/Articles-of-2024-Europe-UK-US/how-remove-conifer-stumps-detailed-guide

Removing conifer stumps involves cutting the stump low, drilling holes, and applying a stump remover or using a stump grinder. For faster results, consider professional removal. This guide walks you through safe, effective methods to clear stumps and reclaim your garden space.

[circe69]

simon ghost riley and pr!mal play fuck yeah

cw: unprotected p in v, rough!sex, predator/prey, dubcon-non, primal play obvi (girl run slower c’mon now)

uhhhh, he’s right behind me isn’t he? ~(>_<~)

“i’ll give you three fuckin’ seconds to run.”

shit.

you stumble back on the wet forest floor, leaves crumbling beneath your feet. simon stood 3 steps away from you, and all he wanted was to fuck you into the ground.

but a good hunter likes to play with his food first.

“one,” he starts as your breath comes out in distorted pants. you’re so excited, so scared, the adrenaline mixed with the intense lust is running through your blood like fire.

“two,” he takes a step towards you. you’re terrified but you want to egg him on. you want to make him angry. wanna make him punish you. you slowly peel off your sweatshirt, revealing your skin-tight tank top.

simon’s anger (and his cock) was begging him to take you right there. he smirked and shook his head, he couldn’t believe what a fucking. brat. you. were.

“three.”

you jumped into a sprint, running as fast as you could and lunging through trees. even though you were running faster than you thought was humanly possible, simon’s footsteps were still right on your tail.

he was swift and silent, and it wasn't until you turned a sharp corner to avoid hitting a tree that you felt two large forearms wrap around your middle.

your scream could've been heard from miles away, causing birds to flee from their nests. ghost flung you against the nearest tree stump and held you with one hand clenched onto your stomach as your feet dangled nearly a foot above the ground.

"why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult," he grunted out as he stripped your pants off with one hand.

you were still struggling to breath, "simon, no-"

"too late for no's, bitch."

you squealed as he tossed you onto the ground, a small tear coming from the corner of your eyes as you went slack jawed watching simon remove his shirt. he started laughing at the sight, "heh, just like you. just like you to dish it and not fuckin' take it. do you see this, y/n?" he grabbed you by a fistful of hair and shoved it down so you were eye level with his painfully hard dick. "you see it? this," he slammed a knee between your thighs, shoving it against your clit as you let out a small sob, "is what you did to me."

no matter what sound was coming out of your mouth, your pussy couldn't lie; if simon were to drag a finger through your slit, it would come back dripping.

"'m sorry, simon, sorry, sorr-"

the sound of his pistol cocking interrupted your pleas. he crawled over you and petted the top of your head, smoothing the stray hairs. “aww, you’re sorry? how sweet,” you felt the head of his gun hit your hip.

“pull my fucking cock out of my pants and if you take your eyes off ‘a mine, you’re dead.”

you scramble, with fat tears streaming out your eyes and down your jaw, as you unzip his cargo pants and pull out his hard length. you never looked away, and scary enough, neither did he.

only when you wrapped your palm around the base of him did he drop is head into the crook of your neck and groan, “fuck,” he whispered, before leaving an open-mouthed kiss under your jaw.

“you going soft on me?” you said quietly.

“if i was going soft, this pussy,” he shoved two fingers inside of you with no warning, and all you could hear was an embarrassingly loud squelch, proving just how much you wanted this, wanted him. “would sound a lot different.”

“no matter how sweet you are,” simon removed his fingers and replaced it with the head of his dick, forcing a gasp out of you,” n’matter how sick you think i am, you like being prey, you like being caught and gutted from the inside out, isn’ that right baby?”

there was no denying it, and even if you did, your pussy would suggest otherwise.

simon riley was right.

[toxicanonymity]

The Spread 2: The Window

THOMAS HEWITT X F!READER

WORD COUNT: 3.8k | IN THE SPREAD UNIVERSE SUMMARY: Tommy takes care of you, his captive. He wants you to be okay, but he also has primal needs. WARNINGS: I8+ Dubcon (captivity/Stockholm) unsafe P in V, mild injuries from prior restraints, fingering, cum eating, thumb sucking. See also masterlist. SIZE & HAND KINK - Tommy is much larger than reader, can lift/maneuver her. He is canonically 6'5" and thicc. A/N: divider by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Tommy kept you in the shed. It was a humbling, being at his mercy for your survival, but he attended to your basic needs better than you might have thought. He even unboarded a damaged window to let in some sunlight. From the inside of the shed, he nailed a sheet over the window frame so you could peek out without being seen. Through the old, dirty glass, you could see a tree stump, some logs, and in the distance, the garage where you had been laid out shackled to the table. 

—-

In the yard, Tommy chopped wood on the tree stump. It was something to behold – his hulking body bending and flexing with each swing of the ax. His sheer mass. Watching him work, a tingle grew between your legs, and as soon as you felt it, your face heated up. You tried not to watch, instead inspecting the sheet's frayed bottom edge. After the echoes of wood-splitting stopped, you peeked out to see if he was coming your way, but he wasn’t. 

He was removing his button-down shirt, a scene that stirred the heat of your core. His upper body was left in a stained white tee that stretched obscenely over his middle, his biceps, and his herculean back. 

He resumed splitting the firewood. His weight would jiggle with each impact of the blade. You found yourself hoping his shirt would ride up so you could see just a little more of him, but the shirt was too long. You weren’t even sure if he wore boxers or briefs. What did it matter to you? It was a curiosity, really. All of him was. Such a man, a big, burly man, and something so primal about him. 

The memory was hazy — your first physical experience with Tommy, when you were shackled to the big table. You had been delirious with fear and confusion. But you vividly recalled his head between your legs and the way he feasted on you, intruding his tongue, searching for more to drink. And you remembered how hard you came, even if you didn’t really want to. 

You could have tried not to think about this. But the alternative was thinking about whether and how you’d ever get out of there. The world outside the shack was terrifying-–the strange, faded world you and your friends had stumbled into. 

The property was full of hazardous scrap metal, broken glass, and barbed wire. You didn’t have any shoes. It crossed your mind to push out the window—another hazard in itself—-but the shed was a safe haven in the middle of an apocalyptic hellscape. If you could teleport home, sure, you would, but the thought of what lay outside the shed made you content to stay put for the time being. You had a feeling Tommy wouldn’t let you go anyway. He didn't say so. He didn't say anything at all. But it was the way he had yanked you back to him when you merely crawled toward the garage door. There was no way he would let you go, as long as he noticed you leaving. 

You told yourself the danger outside was the only thing keeping you there. You told yourself Tommy was a bad man, or at best, a dangerous man. It was certainly safer to have him on your side. It was safer to have his protection. You tried to ignore the throb between your legs when you watched him. But you couldn't stop yourself from conjuring the sensation of his massive hands wrangling you to your feet, hauling you over his shoulder, gently nestling you into the wheelbarrow, covering you with blankets. It made your chest flutter to think about. With fear or desire, you couldn't be sure. 

A while after Tommy finished his chore, the squeak of the wheelbarrow approached the shed. He unlocked it and pushed it open. The rays of light that poured in were full of dust. He froze for a moment, squinting at the sight of you in his shirt, huddled in the corner. You squinted back at the way his torso stretched his stained t-shirt. Finally, he nodded at you with a soft grunt and began to bring in the freshly chopped wood. 

Each piece of wood looked like a twig, the way his hand wrapped around it. As he stacked the logs, the sweet stench of his sweat began to reach you. You felt very aware of your lack of panties and the way every scent hung in the air in this small space – Tommy’s sweat, the wood, the char on his apron.  

When he was finished with the wood, Tommy lingered in the shed, wiping his hands off on his pants and looking at the stacks he made. 

“Good job, Tommy,” you told him and watched his face soften. 

The floor quivered under each step as he thudded toward you. He faced you and cautiously squatted, still looming over you even in his more compact state. You watched his eyes as they scanned your body. When his gaze lingered on your ankle, you realized you were idly caressing skin that had been rubbed raw from the metal cuff he shackled you with in the garage. 

You withdrew your hand from the injury and pushed the shirt tail down between your legs, covering yourself as you reflexively tugged your knees closer to your chest. He gave a dissatisfied frown – you couldn’t see much of his mouth through his partial mask, but it colored the rest of his face. He held his enormous hand near your ankle, then glanced up at you hesitantly. 

You nodded, and he grazed you so lightly you could barely feel it at first. Your foot looked so small and delicate, framed by Tommy’s hand. His thumb brushed over the discoloration. You winced, not in pain but Tommy huffed. His brows knitted together as he looked up to study your face. Only a moment after your eyes met, he looked down and shook his head at himself, then hesitantly brushed your ankle again, but not directly on the bruise.    

“It’s okay,” you offered. “You didn’t mean to.”

He slowly nodded, but didn’t meet your eyes again. He lowered his knees to the floor, kneeling at your feet to inspect the rest of your body. 

The other ankle wasn’t as bad, only a small mark. Then he looked at your arms. He took your hand in his and his eyes almost seemed to smile at the contrast of your delicate fingers in the cradle of his palm. He caressed his way up your wrist and arm, looking for damage. Your heart raced, and your insides swelled with need. No damage on that side.

He moved to the other side. He held your hand for a moment, but started at your shoulder this time. His fingers were feather-light on their way down your arm and made your hair stand on end. The exploratory caress drew a soft sigh out of you. Tommy glanced at your face when he heard it. You cleared your throat and looked away, throbbing as his fingers continued their path. His hand froze when he found a small but pronounced scrape on your wrist. He exhaled sharply through his nose, then his eyes weakened. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured him,adjusting the shirt tail between your legs with your free hand as you felt yourself getting wet.

He held your wrist and gently caressed it, then let you have your hand back. You put your hands together and rested them between your legs, holding down the shirt tail. His gaze followed your hands, and his eyes narrowed. He looked at you for a second then tugged at the shirttail (his shirttail) that was providing what little modesty you were allowed. 

Your heart skipped a beat and you moved your hands out of the way a little too fast, offering him access between your legs. He adjusted himself, and you ached at the thought of his cock. His breathing was shallow under the leather that covered his nose. He slowly, gently lifted the shirt, occasionally glancing at you for permission. He unbuttoned the bottom two buttons and you marveled at how those huge fingers made quick work of it. He pushed the shirt open at the bottom and out of the way. 

He scooted back without taking his eyes away, and bent forward to inspect you. A lock of curls fell in front of his eye and he brushed it back, securing it under the tie of his mask. His head was now between your legs, and he braced an elbow on the hay-covered floor.  His thumb brushed your inner thigh where it met your torso and you twitched in anticipation of his tongue lapping at your folds. How ravenous he was the day before. But Tommy took his time. He gently caressed your outer lips, one at a time. He lay his hand gently on your mound. He traced your inner thigh creases, eyes studious, concerned. 

Then he nudged your legs further apart to make room for himself and braced both elbows on the floor. He used his thumbs to gently spread your outer lips. You held your breath as he simply gazed into his feast. He grunted and his face flushed. You let out a tiny shiver of pleasure and his eyes lept to yours with concern. You felt your face heat up. 

He was worried he had hurt you there, too? You were moved by his apparent concern. You felt bad that he felt bad—for putting you in a sleeper hold, shackling you to a table, and having his way with you. Your face bristled when you thought of it that way.

Why did you feel sorry for him? You were just a toy he didn't want to break. 

Still, you reassured him, “I’m fine.” He studied your face and nodded, then sniffed.

You should have been relieved when Tommy didn’t force his mouth on you again, but your heart fell when he sat up on his knees. 

Tommy hesitantly approached your neck with one hand, and you nodded. He traced your vein. His thumb brushed over the front of your throat, and his fingers lingered where your neck met your shoulder. Then, his other hand came to your shirt, and he unbuttoned the rest of it. His fat fingers were so nimble. 

Your nipples sharpened as the last button came undone. He looked at your face again, and this time it felt like more of a warning than an ask. He nudged the fabric apart, over your breasts. He inhaled sharply at the sight of them, but he didn’t let his eyes linger for long until they were pouring over your torso looking for other signs of damage from his ravishing. He ran his fingers and palms over your chest, your tummy, your sides, making your flesh erupt with goosebumps as his eyes scanned each area. Then he inhaled slow and deep as his attention returned to your breasts. 

Without looking up, he cradled one breast. He closed his eyes for a moment as he felt the shape of it in his hand. He gently kneaded it. You bit your lip and closed your eyes. Then you felt his hot breath on your tit. You opened your eyes to see his pupils blown out under heavy eyelids as his lips approached. He took your nipple into his mouth and let his eyes close again as he tongued, then sucked it. He seemed to suck as much of your breast into his mouth as he could, grunting softly, before focusing back on your nipple, and suckling at it. 

The mask made it hard to breathe through his nose, so he would break the seal of his mouth every couple of seconds before latching on again. He couldn’t seem to get enough, but his mouth was gentle. The pleasure zapped through your chest, down your torso to the floor, where you knew you were making a mess by now. He sucked, and tongued, and moaned, “Mm,” at a pitch that told you his voice must be sexy if he ever spoke. “Mmm,” he moaned into your breast again,and then a moan slipped out of you. 

When he opened his eyes, he glanced up at you before releasing your tit. His mouth hung slightly open. He adjusted himself and inhaled a big chest full of air. Your thighs opened slightly, and it didn’t go unnoticed. He palmed himself over his pants and when he took his hand away, your breath hitched at the thick, curved shape sitting on his enormous thigh. 

—--

Tommy looked around for a moment, seeming to consider the situation, which was that your legs were spread with him between them. 

He reached between your thighs and gently caressed your folds with the backs of two fingers.. The quietest growl escaped his chest. He rubbed himself once over his pants, then he straddled your leg and approached your cunt palm-up. His thick, dark eyelashes fluttered as he looked down at his hand engulfing your pussy. His four fingers barely fit between your thighs. A finger prodded ever so slightly at your entrance, and your hole fluttered needily, making him grunt. You tensed as he wriggled his ring finger inside to the first knuckle. How did you feel so full already? He braced one hand on the wall behind you, and slid his digit further into you with a barely audible gasp. He held his finger there for a moment, enveloped in your snug, throbbing warmth,with you melting under his touch, fully relaxing back against the wall.  

Tommy loomed over you on his knees. As he fucked you with his finger, your half-lidded eyes were fixed on the massive erection on his thigh. He prodded your hole with another finger and his hips pushed forward as he tried to wedge it inside with the other. You gasped as the second finger stretched you wide. You whimpered and he withdrew the second digit. He didn’t have to, but it wasn’t what you really wanted anyway.

You found your hand reaching for his thigh. And at first contact, your chest opened up, flooding you with desire. You traced the hard shape in his pants, and the stiff warmth under your palm made you twitch and swoon. It made you needy and sleepy. He moaned, then shuddered and slid his wet fingers out of your cunt. 

He glanced behind himself at the door, then unbuttoned  his pants and pulled down his underwear. 

With you slumped down against the wall, and Tommy on his knees, his massive cock was almost at eye level and you couldn’t look away from it. He held it in a loose fist, and looked you over. He tilted his head, then let go of his cock, letting it bob heavily as he leaned forward and scooped you up with his hands under your arms.  He brought you into straddling his folded knees. His cock brushed your folds as his arm wrapped around you, and he held you close. He smelled like fire and man. 

He clumsily tried to pull you down without taking care to make sure it was lined up just right. 

“Wait,” you whispered. “Just a second,” and you made a move to try to help him find the right place. 

But he grumbled and held you tighter. He reached under you with one hand, still holding you with the other. He got his tip into place, then with his massive arm around you, he forced you down on his cock, dividing your walls which were still a little tender from the first time. He groaned as he bottomed out as deep as he could be. You whimpered with the burn and were grateful for the prelude – his painstakingly light touch and feral suckling had made you so wet.

Your body adapted, and soon, the overwhelming feeling was one of being occupied, your insides perfectly rearranged to fit him just right. He held your hips, dwarfing your torso with his massive hands. He held you all the way on his cock, his chest expanding with deep breaths. His cock twitched as your walls slowly welcomed his monstrous girth. 

After holding you impaled on his cock for a minute, you briefly spasmed around it. He took a deep breath through his mouth, letting it out as a growl. He began to move you up and down on his shaft, using his hands. It felt like you were split in two. He moved you faster and faster and you whimpered as he bounced you like a rag doll on his massive cock, making your gut dizzy with pleasure the faster he went. You held on tight, gripping his tight t-shirt, then putting your hands around his neck, nestled under his dampening hair, against the cool sweat of his skin. 

He got up on his knees and braced a hand against the wall behind you, holding you steady with his other arm. You held on tighter. He thrust into you as he held you steady. He used you as a sleeve for his pleasure. As his massive length pummeled into you, he grunted and sighed. His muffled, feral sounds touched something deep in your core and lit it on fire. The sweat of his shirt wafted into your nostrils. His hair grazed your head as he pounded you. 

He stopped, fully seated within your warmth, and nudged his shirt off your shoulders so you were totally nude. Then he began moving you slower, up and down his length. You could feel each vein of his cock as it dragged heavily, pushing itself through your soft, snug channel with each stroke. Your hips moved, grinding you against the softness of his pelvic area. You wedged your hand between the two of you and he flinched at the feeling of your knuckles digging into his belly. He snatched your hand and moved it. 

His grip became bruising as he took back control. He moved you at a jackhammer pace and your chest opened up with butterflies as you got closer and closer. He grunted and snarled and you hung onto the edge of bliss until you couldn’t, and you fully unraveled around his cock, whimpering and moaning with each contraction. He fucked you through it until you finally whimpered, “Tommy.” He growled and held you still. He tilted his head at you. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the strong musk, the sweat, the char, the wood, as your body drew itself back together. 

With you still on his cock, Tommy bent forward and laid you down on the hay-covered floor. It scratched your back, but your body was buzzing so warmly you didn’t mind.  

—

He slowly withdrew his length, then he held it in his hand, and you marveled at it-–thick, veiny, dripping. Wild, dark hair wet with a faintly white blend of his precum and you.

He hadn’t cum yet. You wanted him to. You wanted so badly to see him cum. You could smell it, practically taste it.

He braced one hand on his knee and with a barely audible groan, he stood up, pants still undone. You felt a sense of loss as he moved away.  

Tommy glanced toward the window, then turned away from you. He squeezed his cock and pulled his underwear up over it. 

“No,” you protested. “No, you don’t have to—come back,” you pleaded. “It’s okay.” You got up on your knees. He watched you skeptically, chest heaving. You wondered if he hadn’t cum in front of anyone before. “I would like to,” you started, then cleared your throat. “Please put it in my mouth, I’d really like that.”

He looked at you, frozen.

“Please,” you repeated, then wet your lips and stared at his cock. 

He slowly made his way back to you, and you opened your mouth. “I can–” you offered, but he didn’t let you suck it. He brought the tip to your lips, but kept his fist around his length, pumping it slowly. It squelched obscenely with each stroke. 

When precum beaded at his tip, your tongue darted out to collect it. He growled, and his free hand seized your jaw, holding your mouth still and open as he continued pumping his cock. Then, when he could hang on no longer, he pointed it into your mouth. He came with a rumble in his chest and a low groan from his throat. The first, thick rope hit the roof of your mouth. The next went directly to your throat. And by the sixth ribbon or so, it was dribbling onto your tongue, thick, salty, and heady. You were salivating and could hardly wait to swallow. 

He dropped his tip onto your tongue and it sat there heavily for a moment while he breathed. You dared to wrap your lips around it until he quickly backed up, taking it away, with a thick string of drool connecting you for a moment. You swallowed and wiped your mouth with the back of your wrist. His face was pink as he composed himself and stuffed it back in his pants. 

You sat back on the floor, and he did a double take. He knelt down again and laid his hand on your mound. He scanned your body like he had hurt you all over again.  

“Tommy, I’m fine,” you assured him. “I promise, I’m good.” He squinted at you. “That felt good,” you repeated, nodding, face burning. “Good, Tommy,” you whispered.  

He nodded back hesitantly. 

He left and didn’t lock the door. While he was gone, you put his shirt back on, didn’t button it, but wrapped it around you. He returned with a few more blankets. He picked you up and laid one down under you. He folded one under your head, and used the last one to cover you.  

As he finished tucking you in, a drop of sweat fell from his hair onto your neck. He brushed it off with his thumb. And as he began to take his hand away, you reached for it. You brought his hand to your mouth and wrapped your lips around his thumb. Your tongue collected the salty drop of perspiration. And as you swallowed it, you sucked his thumb more into your mouth. As you gently sucked his massive thumb, your eyes closed, and when you opened them again, he was looking at you softly. You released his thumb, and he gently cradled your jaw in his hand. Then he slid his fingers down to your neck. He could have squeezed or snapped the life out of you with no effort at all, but you knew he wouldn't. All he did was admire you, softly stroking your delicate skin for a moment. Then, when he took his hand off your neck, he brushed his thumb down your chin. 

He braced his hands on his hefty thighs and stood up. He adjusted his mask as he slowly left the shed. Once he was outside, you heard the padlock click into place, and then the squeak of his wheelbarrow fading into the distance.

Thank you for reading!

Your engagement helps a lot in motivating me and letting me know what you enjoyed so you might see more of it.

[brokenmutations]

When there’s a Logan, there’s a You

Logan Howlett [Variants] • She/Her Pronouns • Mutant!Reader [Heightened Senses] • In Wade’s attempts to find the perfect Wolverine for his timeline, he half expected not to run into the many different yous that existed • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • TW: Blood / Nightmares / Scars

“Oh, I gotta find me another Logan” Wade sighs, taking out the glorified fire phone. “An alive one…Don’t get up, guys. I’ll see myself out”

Comic Accurate Short King

“Logan!” Wade shouts in the axe throwing bar, spotting Logan sat at the bar. “I’m gonna need you to come with me.”

“Who’s asking?” Logan glared, hopping off the bar stool and revealing his true height.

“Oh, look at this hairy Lou Retton” Wade giggles behind the mask. “Did you stick the landing, little guy?”

A bit of annoyance grew on Logan’s face as he walked closer to Wade.

“Yes, you did! Comic-accurate short king” Wade leaned down, his voice in more of a mocking way and before he could say more he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Marvel Jesus turned around and holy fuck was this universe’s Y/N was tall as SHIT.

“Who you callin’ short, fucking ketchup bottle?” Y/N growled, gripping his shoulder with a bit of a force that drove a shiver down his spine.

“Okay Godzilla, I think I’ll be on my way out” Wade pulls himself away, taking the phone out and staring at their height dynamics as the door opens behind him. “He climbs you like a tree huh?” He teased only for both of them to get annoyed about to follow him but he quickly went through with it shutting behind.

Cue the fucking montage

Weapon X

As Wade steps through the door he was in shock at how ruined this universe was.

“Everything here is on fire” He thought out loud, entering an alleyway finding a hunched over figure with a cloak covering them. “Hi, have you seen I guess a more apocalyptic looking Hugh Jackman around here?”

The individual lifted their head showing their face to Wade causing him to kneel in front of the person.

“Fucking hell is that you Y/N?!” Wade removed the hood of her cloak revealing the buzzed hair. “Okay Furiosa, you slay in any universe”

The confusion write itself on her face as she didn’t know who this person was but given her state of being, she didn’t have the strength to fight him. But he sure did.

Suddenly, Wade was thrown away from Y/N’s space causing a bit of a comical scream to erupt out of the poor guy. Next thing he knew, his body met the wall which broke a few bones. Especially the car he landed on broke a couple more.

As Wade groans lifting himself onto his elbows, he turned to find a man had replaced where he was.

“I don’t know who you are but maybe you know where—-“

The man straightened up turning around to look Wade with the familiar scowl that matches every Wolverine.

“Well well well, you aren’t a kitty cat like the rest with that lion’s mane of yours” Wade smirks rolling off the car and walking over to get up close and personal. He was about to demand he come with him but then his eyes moved with his head to the metal stump that used to be his left hand. “Do your claws still work with that thing?” He gasps suddenly, straightening up. “Was that the hand you used to jerk o—-“

Before he could finish he went flying to the wall again after Logan punched him with said stump. Logan had enough of this yapping individual he’s never seen before and decided a threat is a threat. So he went after Wade and if he could, he’d turn him into ceviche if other matters didn’t stop him.

Y/N watched this all play out for a while and wanted to break it up but a part of her couldn’t handle the noises she was hearing.

Her wince is what made Logan stop and shove Wade off the car he was fighting him on before quickly approaching her. Logan gently cradles her face with his hand resting his forehead against hers.

“Yeah…okay, I’ll uh…see myself out” Wade groans dragging his body to the door he opened with his phone.

Patch

When Wade opened the door to the next universe he was confused whether he was in a casino in Vegas or a casino in the middle of the jungle because when he looked outside the window it looked like a jungle.

“Can I help you sir?”

The voice caught him off guard as he quickly turned around to lock eyes with this universe’s Y/N. Except his Y/N had cochlear implants. Not every universe is the same people! This Y/N clearly had her mutation manifest a bit too much that her eardrums BOOM! Exploded. Bursted…what’s the medical mumbo-jumbo? Anyway, I only know that cuz that ALMOST happened to my Y/N.

“Sir—-Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a tall broody man that apparently has a very gremlin sized version of himself in another universe. Hell, you were alllllll leg there” Wade started to doze off thinking about how exactly the short king, yknow then he snapped back into it. “Anyho! You’re not helpful so I’m leaving you in your cute little waiter outfit alone and let myself in”

Before he even got to the door, Y/N blocked his path firmly pressing her hand against his chest.

“Okay princess, I’m not here to fight. I just need to talk to Logan”

The name triggered a thought in her mind unknown to him, but it was obvious that she thought Logan’s position was about to be compromised by this stranger.

“You don’t have a meeting with Patch and if you enter without granted access…I’ll have to take care of you myself” Y/N shoved Wade with a force he would never expect from her.

“Holy shit have you been working out or juicing?” Wade scoffs falling on his ass watching Y/N take out a small canister that with a quick press of a button it formed into a staff. “Marvel H. Christ…you pack a punch. I wonder what you’d do with the Hulk as your opponent”

“I’d leave if I were you”

“Sorry, sweetcheeks. That’s a no can do” Wade groans on his way back up, taking one of his katanas out. “Guess I’ll have to force my way through”

Logan suddenly felt uneasy as he looked at his winning cards, confusing the others at the table but his expression was toward what he heard that they didn’t. He reveals his cards and listened to their disappointment but before he could leave the table…

“Patch” Wade gave him a look which led Logan to gesture for the man on his right to give up his seat for him. “I need to talk to you”

“I don’t know who you are, bub” Logan tapped the table for his cards as the dealer gave Wade his as he was confused at to what they were playing.

“Yeah but I know exactly who you are and you HAVE to tell me how you snagged Y/N. The little lady is crazier than mine.” Wade lifted his cards, leaning into Logan. “What are we playing?” He whispers only for the man to growl at him in his space. “Ok ok. Not Go-Fish…uhm. I fold”

The dealer nodded and went to the next player, Logan kept his composure for the most part but when Wade said his partner’s name…his whole body tensed.

“How do you know Y/N.”

“Well that’s a bigger discussion we should have in private. And probably without her because she’s gonna be pissed when she wakes up” Wade went to reach for his card and Logan had enough which led the man to unsheathe his claws to stab him in the head. The woman on the other side of the mercenary, screamed when blood got on her but business continued as Logan retracted his claws along with pulling Wade away and off the table.

“You look like you could use a drink” the dealer gestured for a waiter to come over and before Logan could stand up to check on one in particular, he felt a hand stop him.

Logan quickly looked up locking eyes with his partner who bore a tired expression along with a bruise forming on her cheek. He could smell the blood on her and knew it was hers given she hide her other arm behind her back to avoid other eyes.

‘You okay?’ He signed to her as Y/N nods before both their attention were drawn to Wade dragging himself along the carpeted floor.

“Never…coming…back here” Wade groans continuing to drag himself away as Y/N scoffs at his form while signing ‘idiot’.

As soon as Wade left, Logan rises to his feet excusing himself from the table and walking out with Y/N back to the small lobby before their casino room. He frowns scanning around the room to see all the damage done to the place alone.

‘He ever comes back, you get me’ Logan scoffs as he signs to her while taking a hold of her arm that Wade managed to knick with his tiny knife.

‘I can handle myself’ She frowns, feeling his fingers gently lift her chin to have her attention on him.

“I don’t care. This operation is risky, I can’t lose you in the process” Logan frowns, kissing her forehead before bringing her into his arms for a brief moment. Her body finally relaxed after that whole interaction.

Old Man Logan

“This is much homier than the last universe…I think I still taste metal…” Wade pondered as he approached the small property in the woods. “Was it his claws or her staff going up where the sun don’t—-Oh hey!” He waves at the old man on the porch.

Said old man didn’t seem to care much of the guy dressed like a ketchup bottle. He kept his attention on himself until he heard the footsteps draw nearer.

“Hello, Hi! Hope you’re the man I’m looking for”

The old man lifted his gaze only for Wade to be taken back a sec.

“Well don’t you need some coconut oil on…that” He gestures to Logan’s older complexion as his words only drew out a low growl from the old man. “So you and my Logan actually aged. Can the little Wolvie still perform? I wanted to ask my Y/N but she’s still grieving”

Logan glared at him which drew out a growl out of the man the closer Wade got.

The growling annoyed more than the merc as the front door opened revealing this universe’s Y/N with a very tired expression on her face. Logan’s growling suddenly stopped as he turned toward the door finding her disappointed expression making his expression soften for a second.

Then a whole 180 turn back to Wade returning the scowl on his face and suddenly the shotgun he was hiding under his blanket fired at the poor guy launching him back from the force alone.

“He’s twitching” Y/N frowns stepping off the porch and checking the body, watching the bullet holes heal. “He can heal like you, babe” she pulls away from the body, only for her back to bump into Logan’s chest as he instantly went to cover her with his body. “He’s not going to hurt me”

Logan shot her a glare which was met with an annoyed look from her. He tensed when he heard Wade groaning, resulting in him gently nudging Y/N back as he took a step back.

“Okayyyy…clearly, I struck a fucking nerve with this one. Like…the others” Wade groans rising to his feet and cracking his back as he did such. “I shall bid y’all farewell…this writer needs to send me to a universe where the wolverine is a cat. Then maybe just maybe I won’t be too hurt” he sighs taking out his phone and opening a door to the next universe.

The poor guy looked around terrified as to where the man dressed in red had disappeared to, all while Y/N pulled away heading back inside.

“You want some peach cobbler?” She asks halfway through the door as Logan perked up quickly following behind her.

The door shut a moment, then Logan opened it back up leaving his shotgun outside before going back in.

Crucified Wolverine

Wade face plants into the sea of red skulls and part of him was afraid but most of him was curious.

“What in the fuck…” He lifts his head finding Logan on a giant yellow X. “Are you okay??” He laughs, struggling to rise to his feet as he stumbles on over to get close to this variant.

All this Logan has done was groan to the feeling of the nails in his wrists and the rain hitting his skin making him overall uncomfortable.

“Yeah uh. Not you…we’re uhm. Going in different directions” Wade turned around opening a door. “Thank god I didn’t find a Y/N skull…”

“Y/N…” Logan sobbed hearing her name which only made Wade anxious and get out of there faster not wanting to know what happened to one of his best friends in this universe.

John Byrne’s Brown and Tan Wolverine

“Oh yes, YES! Classic John Byrne brown and tan” Wade nodded happily watching Logan come into view of the wrecked forest they stood in. “Now you fought the Hulk in this costume…”

Logan readied himself, unsheathing his claws at the exact moment the Hulk roared which led Wade to turn around being face to face with said green monster.

“I’m Marvel Jesus you dull creature and I——“ Wade was suddenly hit by the Hulk into the trunk of a knocked down oak.

Part of him was having enough of these Logan variants that Wade started to whine and an even bigger chunk of him wishes his Y/N was with him.

“Get up!”

It felt like he was seeing an angel when her voice caught his ears. Y/N picked up Wade like it was nothing, carrying him over her shoulders and bringing him away from the fight but the Hulk was acting like a bull chasing them which led to Logan chasing him.

“DITCH THE RED, BUB” Logan shouts, climbing a tree and launching himself onto the Hulk’s back throwing him back.

Y/N suddenly dropped Wade but helped him to his feet. “Listen, Red. You’re not from here and this ain’t your fight”

“I know I know! I was gonna ask if I could borrow your Logan to help save my universe” Wade’s voice was panicked watching Logan and the Hulk fight.

“Look. Avengers are after us for messin’ with the multiverse already. You need to find a Logan that doesn’t have anything he could lose in his universe.” Y/N frowns. “It’s messed up but that’s how it’s gonna have to be.”

“Wait. How the fuck do you know so much about the multiverse?”

“When your Red vanishes one day and it became this unknown trend…you get curious and start talking to a few sorcerers” Y/N states, getting a chill down her back as she quickly grabs Wade pulling them both out of the way of the tree thrown their way.

“Y/N FOR FUCKS SAKE” Logan shouts, mainly over his anxiety for their safety with a hint of anger.

Y/N sighs grabbing Wade’s hand and pulling him out of their line of sight. She quickly took the phone out of his hand and dialed in two sequences.

“These two have lone Wolverines. One definitely has some baggage from a different studio but the other I know nothing about”

“Ok ok…I’ll take it” Wade took the phone, opening the first one up. Before she stepped completely away, he called out to her catching her attention. “Uhm. I…”

“You will save your universe, Wilson.” Y/N gave a small nod with a smile before turning around and running toward the fight.

The Cavillrine

The revving of the motorcycle caught his attention instantly.

“Oh now we’re talking” Wade started to approach this universe’s Wolverine. “That’s the whole goddamn package right there”

As he got closer, he grew more confused and remembered when the other Y/N brought up “studio” as if it meant something important…

“Yknow…from behind you look a little like Henry—-“ The second Logan turned around, Wade gasped. “Oh my FUCK…the Cavillrine the legends are true”

Logan gave him a confused expression as he puffed out some cigar smoke, bringing his attention toward his bike once more.

“And may I say sir on the behalf of all humanity….this just feels RIGHT” Wade emphasized on the last word with a bunch of giddiness in his voice watching Logan turn to him. “We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street!”

“You were just leaving” Logan scoffs, removing the cigar from his mouth and tossing it.

“No sir! I wonder if your Y/N looks a little like Amy Adams” Wade thought for a moment, “No no no sir, not while the fate of my universe is at—-“

Poor guy.

Wade flew through the next time door from the force of Logan’s punch.

The Worse Wolverine

After the whole spiel, Logan came face to face with Wade’s gun as he could sense he had enough of disappointment. But he wasn’t going to go that easily.

“Watch this” Logan laughs reaching for the bottle and straightening up. “Alright…Woah—-“ he grabbed onto the gun to stabilize himself. “Easy…” he laughs softly, starting to drink the bottle straight up.

“Good god” Wade watches in pure shock. “Thirsty little honey badger aren’t yea?” He continues to watch him down the bottle which triggered a thought in his mind. “How did Y/N deal with your little drinking problem huh?”

Logan finished the bottle with a bit of a shocked expression hearing that name. “Y/N?” He questions him, only to suddenly collapse from the amount in his system.

Wade sighs holstering his gun and stepping over his unconscious body. “You will have to do”

You’ve all seen the movie do I really have to rewrite the whole thing? Let’s just get to the part where you show up

Althea scoffed after her wishing she was deaf comment as she listens to the commotion Wade and Logan were causing in the streets.

“Y/N!” She shouted knowing her apartment door is closed, and Y/N’s. But with her mutation, she heard her.

Y/N instantly lets herself in running over to the window and climbing out onto the fire escape where Al was. She instantly took note of the commotion happening.

“What is it?!”

“A fuckton of Wades”

“God fucking damn it. They better not be staying. Those motherfuckers won’t pay their rent!” Al scoffs again, going back into her apartment to look for some much need cocaine in her opinion. All while Y/N continued to watch the fight happening before re-entering herself and quickly grabbing something.

While the two were fighting in the bus, Y/N stepped out of the apartment complex finding a few Deadpool stragglers resulting in her running toward a presumed dead one and grabbing his handguns to take out the few giving hopefully her Wade less trouble. She flinched to the sound of broken glass as she ran over to the end of the bus sighing with relief.

“Wade, this is what you’ve been doing?! Fucking up the multiverse?!”

“I DIDNT DO SHIT! BLAME THE TVA” Wade shouts in her direction as he couldn’t help but feel the growing tension beside him that was Logan staring into Y/N’s soul from the looks of it. “Listen sweet cheeks. We gotta go save our universe and I need peanut’s help. So while he continues to stare at you like he’s seen a ghost Imma need you to have our backs in case—-“ he heard the sounds of bones cracking back into place as Y/N instantly knew where he was going.

“Go!” She shouted at them and while they ran to take care of the time ripper, she half expected to take on a whole clusterfuck of Deadpools. But when she heard the stand down! from Peter. She had only an ounce of hope.

Once the threat of it all was over, Y/N found herself back in her apartment leaned up against the door hugging a flannel close to her chest as she didn’t feel it in the moment. But seeing Logan, not her Logan, again was bringing back all kinds of feelings. She was hugging her Logan’s shirt as she had quite a few along with a box of Polaroids that their daughter took for the most part.

A knock on the door pulled her out of this trance she put herself in as she rises to her feet.

As she opened the door, her heart that was once beating fast because of her anxiety…relaxed when she locked eyes with Laura. Y/N instantly dropped the flannel and broke down into tears bringing her into her arms sobbing with her.

“Mom…” Laura whispers, sobbing and gripping onto the back of her shirt. Y/N held onto her for dear life, looking over her shoulder to find a smiling Wade and equally happy Logan beside him.

When they locked eyes, Y/N couldn’t help the smile on her face even with all the tears before hiding her face while hugging Laura. Logan felt his heart beating out of his chest.

You’ll find me again, I promise His Y/N’s words rang in his head as he looked at this universe’s Y/N.

A Logan will always find a Y/N

[aesthetic-bbyg]

HI I LOVE UR WORKS could I pls request like a mean dom ex bf Luke Castellan x fem reader who just canNOT get over him 🙏 it’s ok tho cuz we can get under him instead 😍 (smutty ofcccc)

DON’T STOP ~ L. CASTELLAN

lowk based of this p link

ex!Luke Castellan x fem!reader

🎀🤍 - It’s been awkward around camp since you and Luke broke up, even worse since you miss him so much..

Oral!fem receiving , Luke being a meanie , teasing , rough&dom!Luke , squirting , sum fluff at the end

EVEN THOUGH HE WAS YOUR EX, AND HE broke things of with you, you couldn’t help but stare at every chance you got. When he was practicing sword fighting with another camper, or when your gazes met at the picnic benches during breakfast.

And Luke hated this. It made his blood boil, those sweet looks you sent him. The innocent doe look as your round eyes widened each time he finally gave in and stared back. The few seconds he actually managed to make eye contact with you he saw that desire that he was all too familiar with swirl in your irises. Then again, it made him chuckle each time you turned away from his strong gaze, shyness overtaking you.

Yet, it made him cocky, knowing he still had that power over you despite breaking things off. It made him want to get closer and see just how much you blushed at his presence. He wanted to feel the way your body stiffened when he touched you, before eventually melting with each gentle caress. It was sick, how much pleasure it brought him to think about messing with you. But, he also couldn’t deny that he had his own desires that needed to be fulfilled. So it wasn’t all that twisted because part of that want for you was because of his own lust and not just his ego.

Even now, as Luke stares at you from across the field, his helmet adorning blue whilst yours red, he could sense that same desire seep from your body. He wanted to soothe that ache he knew pooled under those leggings you were wearing. He took the opportunity as he snuck through the trees like an animal, and saw you, guarding a red flag stuck into the dirt.

If you could even call it guarding. Your back was turned to him, picking at the flowers by your feet, you sat atop of a tree stump nearly dying of boredom. Your helmet and sword had been discarded and rest on the grass next to you. You gasped, feelings sharp tip dig into your back.

“You never learn.” A familiar voice that sent chills down your spine echoed into your ears. “How many times did I tell you, never get distracted.”

“Many times.” You replied, voice weak and small. You slowly turned your head, peeking at him over your shoulder. Your eyes holding that same doe eye look as you stared up at him innocently. He removed the faux sword from your back, squatting down to reach your height. “Luke.”

He took your chin between his fingers and thumb, staring intensely into your eyes. “You’re a stupid girl, y/n.” He leaned his so close that his lips nearly brushed over yours, “But so irresistible.”

You gulped down thickly, “Lu..”

“You’re not gonna be eating dinner tonight, you’re going to stay in your cabin.” Luke demanded, not even asking you, but stating it like it was a fact of the future.

“But—“ You stumbled over your words pathetically, breathing heavily against his pink lips that were so close and yet so far. “Luke.”

“It’s an order.” He stood up, tone cold and harsh as he ripped the flag from the ground and began walking away.

“Hey!” It was the loudest your feeble voice had been the whole interaction, your hands reaching for the sword by your side as he paused. “The whole point of the this game is to not let the opposing team win the flag.”

Luke let out a mocking laugh, turning around to look at your like you were dumb. “What, and you’re gonna fight me for it?”

You knew you didn’t stand a chance against the greatest swordsman of all of Camp Half-Blood, and yet you still allowed the words to slip your mouth. “Yes.”

He shook his head, tossing the flag aside. “Fine.” He readied his sword, pointing at you threateningly, “Have it your way.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, mimicking his actions and sucking in a deep breath. You truly couldn’t go against Luke even if you put all your might into it. You were a fool for even instigating a dual, and that same proclamation ended in you on your stomach, cheek digging into the grass with your sword knocked across the field. Luke held both your wrist behind your back, knees on either side of your hips as his hard on pressed against your backside.

“You’re a stupid girl.” He repeated his mean words from earlier, this time so close to your ear that his breath tickled the side of your face. His grip on your was getting painful, but it felt numb as he leaned down to press a soft kiss against your temple. “You’ll learn one day.”

He stood up, releasing you from his grip as he walked away, picking the flag up and disappearing into the trees. You’re team was going to give you so much shit for this.

THIS IS STUPID, Luke Castellan was your ex. What type of control does he have that you had to listen to him? You’d been pacing around the empty cabin during dinner time for five minutes.

“Aren’t you gonna eat, sister?” One of your siblings asked before leaving, watching you with curiosity as you laid under the covers.

“Not tonight, I feel a little sick.” You lied, even mustering up a fake whine as you gripped your stomach. “Go ahead, I’ll be fine.” And within a few moments, she was gone, and you waited and waited, which left you to pacing. “Fuck this.” You stomped towards the door, deciding that you shouldn’t listen to him, because who was he? Ordering you to do what he wanted.

“Where are you going?” Luke asked smugly as his gaze met yours when you opened the door. “I told you to stay here.”

You stepped back slowly, “I was going to eat.” Your voice had become stronger, but that didn’t mean that your mind felt anymore confident when confronting the son of Hermes.

He shut the door, following each step you took backwards by stepping forward, his smirk very clear, even in the dark atmosphere. “But I told you not go, to wait for me here.”

“Well, I’m not gonna listen to everything you say, Luke.” You stopped, feeling your legs collided again the side of one of the bunk beds. It was yours, and you could tell by the curtains you had Luke nail onto the top for extra privacy. “You’re not my boyfriend anymore.”

He let out another chuckle, something about your words had entertained him so much that he’d revealed his pearly canines. But in a split second it dropped, he hurled at you, pushing you against the bed and pining your arms above your head. You’d be lying if you said that this didn’t soak your panties almost immediately.

“I tell you do things, baby, ‘cause you don’t know how to do them yourself.” Luke whispered into your neck, planting sweet kisses along it’s curve and your shoulder. Then he began sucking, leaving bruises behind and then soothing them by licking gently against the purple skin. “Did I really fuck you so dumb that you just can’t comprehend when someone tells what to do.”

You sigh at his touch, “Stop calling me stupid, Luke.”

He huffed out a laugh, trailing further down your chest kissing at the tops of your tits that spilled out the white tank top you had on. “It’s what you are, I mean, you can hardly form a sentence when I just so much as look at you.”

You whine, “I can speak for myself.” You said in a whisper, tugging at the grip he had on your wrist.

He lifted his head from it’s spot in the valley of your tits. “Then tell me,” He took one hand, still restraining you with the other, “what do you want.” You went silent, brain going foggy as he inched a warm hand under your tank top, under your bra. “I said, what do you want me to do, stupid girl.”

You whined, “Fuck, I want you to eat me out.” Your tone was meant to come out a lot more stronger then it actually did, it nearly sounded like you were pleading.

“Aww, look at my girl, finally learning a new thing.” He cooed, letting go of your wrist and lifting his head from your chest. He caressed your face, eyes lowering down to your lips and inching closer just like how he did in the forest earlier. “I really meant it when I said your irresistible, baby.” He whispered, kissing your cheek, purposely avoiding your lips. “I‘ve missed your taste.”

“Then why have you been a dickhead and ignoring me since we broke up.” You muttered, bringing your now free hands to wonder up and down his toned arms. “You could’ve had me if you wanted me.”

He chuckled, “Trust me, I’ve been doing anything but ignoring.” He squeezed your hip, finally dipping his head to kiss you desperately. It was a messy and hot kiss, full of desire, clashing teeth, and tongue. Your hands had lifted to cup his face, eyes pressed shut as you took in this long awaited make out. Nothing could describe the lust that emitted from the kiss alone, how heavy the both of you inhaled through your nose, refusing to part your mouths and breath.

But it eventually had to come, Luke grew impatient and hungry as he was the first to pull away, dragging your hips to the edge of the bed roughly. He fell to his knees in a heartbeat, pulling off your shorts in one swift move and shoving your panties the side. He then folded your legs just enough so your whole cunt was exposed and openly glistening in the little bit of light that illuminated the cabin.

He nearly came just at the sight of it, leaning down to begin his feverish licking and sucking on your folds. You let out a surprised moan, not expecting him to dive into your pussy like a starved man. Your hand flew to his dark curls, the other gripping the pretty pink sheets you already knew were going to be ruined by the time he was finished.

After all, dinner time was a whole hour and thirty, giving him plenty of time to enjoy his meal without stop. Luke flicked his tongue in and out your hole teasingly before moving to suck on your clit loudly. The noises were disgusting, a sloppy combination of slurping and high pitched moans. He lightly shook his head against you, digging his features into you, his grip on your thighs tightening each time you attempted to push them down.

“Fuck, Luke, don’t stop, don’t stop!” You moaned, legs trembling at the way he worked his tongue against you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You nearly screamed, your grip on his curls painful but he didn’t even mind it. He didn’t even flinch as you began to leak milky cum from your cunt, he just continued to lick at your sensitive bud. You did everything in your power to try and get him away, pushing at his shoulders, gripping his arms, shoving away his face, letting out choked whines of surrender. “I can’t—“ Each feeble attempt in getting your point across was interrupted by your own moans and squeaks as he brushed over your overstimulated clit.

You’re pussy was probably a mess of spit, cum, and arousal mixing together, yet something about that was so addictive to Luke. It wasn’t like he didn’t hear your pleas, or that he was ignoring them, he truly couldn’t pull away. He was letting animalistic groans each times he swiped his tongue onto your pussy, letting the wetness fill his taste buds.

He couldn’t help it when he just pushed your legs closer to your chest whenever you squirmed and attempted to push the closed. He heard you whines and it only fed his own pleasure, his licks became quicker, more messy if that was even possible. He was out of breath and heaving, yet didn’t pull back for a second, he just kept stuffing his face back into your cunt. He noted the way you nearly screamed whenever he fucked his tongue into and rolled with it, repeating the motion as his nose stimulated your clit.

With that you were letting out the most pornographic moans he’d ever heard come from you. Your attempts to shove him away for noticeably more frantic and aggressive, you’re whines, despite being almost unintelligible, begged for him to stop. There was a overwhelmingly tight coil in your stomach that just felt different compared to your last orgasm, it went from your stomach and moved down in waves. Before you could let another push to his shoulder you threw your head back and gripped the sheets desperately. You heard a gentle squelch, very faint but it made your eyes widen in horror as you sat up at stared down at Luke.

He finally pulled away, wiping away at the wetness that dropped down his chin and onto his neck. He fell back on his knees, a drowsy smirk on his lips and heavy eyelids that stared back at you. You squirted, and all over his face at that. “Fuck.” Was all he could mutter, biting his lower lip as he stared at you. “That was..so fuckin’ hot, baby.”

You blushed, hiding your face in your hands as you groaned. “I made a mess.”

He leaned up, removing your hands and lightly pecking your lips. “A beautiful mess, baby.” He whispered, “I bet I can make it happen again.”

“No!” You squeezed your legs shut, shoving his shoulder as he laughed, gently caressing your thigh. “Dinner is almost over and you need to leave before anyone notices you were here in the first place.”

“I don’t care if they see me, they probably already heard you.” He stood up, making you notice the painful bulge that outline the cargo shorts he had on.

“Oh, fuck, Luke.” You whispered. He didn’t have to ask what you were referring to with your pitiful tone as you stared at his hardened dick without shame.

“Don’t worry about.” He reassured, digging into his pocket to pull out a picture. “I’ve got you to help me out later in the night.” With closer examination, you noticed that it was an old photo that he’d taken months before the breakup. You laid down on a bed, shirt lifted just enough to show your tits, legs spread open with a cock shoved in your cunt.

“You’re dirty.” You slapped his leg, but a sheepish smile betrayed any ounce of annoyance you were trying to display. You leaned down to grab your shorts, but before you put them back on you paused. You looked up at Luke, who wasn’t paying attention as he slipped the photo back into his side pocket, and then at your lap. You stood up and slipped out of your panties, balling them up and offering it to Luke like a present. “You can have ‘em, they’re ruined because of you anyway and it could be useful for helping you later.”

Luke let out a chuckle, not even blinking as he took them and shoved them into his pocket. “Thank you.” He took your waist, his hand trailing down to the plush cheeks of your ass and squeezing the flesh. He leaned into close of the night with a another hungry kiss, except he replaced the painful lust with love and devotion. He regretted ever letting you escape his arms, and knew that he wouldn’t do it again, no matter what. He kneeled down, picking up the shorts he’d discarded and lightly kiss your thigh, you stepped into them, watching with admiration as he dragged them back up.

“I love you.” You weren’t sure if maybe it was too soon to confidently say the words once more but part of you didn’t care.

Luke didn’t know either, but he definitely knew in his whole heart that he didn’t give a fuck. “I love you too.” You walked to the cabin door, feeling a pool of dread as he opened it and slowly let go of your hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You nodded, giving him a smile before he was gone, the door shutting completely with a quiet click.

“Hey, Luke, where were ya?” You heard a fellow camper call out just moments after Luke’s exit. “Didn’t get some dinner before bed?”

“Nah, man, don’t worry.” Luke shrugged it off, he voice getting more faint the farther he went, but you definitely heard him say: “I already ate.”

Natti speaks !!: I actually ended up liking this way more than I thought so a big thank u to the person who sent this request in🫶🏼🫶🏼 Luke Castellan is js to fine and he needs to be stopped.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

[thoughtportal]

Grinding tree stumps is usually how we deal with them. If you have land to clear on your homestead, it could become quite a chore to get these stumps taken care of. But did you know that you can eat your stumps?

Well, that is not exactly true. If you head out there and start chewing on tree stumps, they won't taste very good. And there is no method of slow cooking that will make that poplar edible or appetizing.

However, one way you can both eat your stumps and hasten their decomposition is to inoculate them with a mushroom spore. I understand that is a mouthful of words that don’t really mean much to the average person.

What I'm saying is, you can buy wooden dowels that are covered with the spores of certain types of mushrooms.

These dowels can be easily inserted into your stumps and they will begin feasting on the wood. The best part is that you will get delicious mushrooms several times a year. These spores are prolific and will produce enough mushrooms that you will need to dry them.

If you do this to a field of stumps, you better get your e-commerce ready or set a booth up at the local farmers market.

Shiitake Mushrooms retail for between 8$ and $15.

I prefer the Shiitake because it looks very distinct and I love the taste as well. They also preserve well.

Mushroom Nutrition

The Shiitake mushroom is a delicious little cap. It's full of great nutrients like copper and selenium. It's also a decent source of Vitamin B2 and B6. It contains lipids and amino acids as well.

Shiitake have played a role in Chinese medicine for millennia. There are also studies on their ability to fight tumors. For the most part, though, they are just delicious and grow with little to no effort. You can eat them, dry them, or sell them.

Tools and Supplies

Drill and Drill bit of 5/16th inch bit

Hammer

Wax

Vessel for melting wax

Small Paintbrush

Shiitake Spawn (store in fridge until ready for use)

The Process

7. That’s it! It’s not a tough process. If you can melt some wax and use a drill, you can have all the mushrooms you want.

How to Activate the Spore

It takes about 6-12 months for the spore to initially spread through your stump. So, it will take at least a year before you get any production.

Your stumps will produce in spring and in fall. You may get some sparse production in summer, but the bulk of production happens in spring and fall. The spore will need to be distributed through the stump each season and activated.

The best way to do this is to first soak your stumps thoroughly. When I do this with logs, I toss them into a small creek on my property overnight. You can water the stumps a few times a day for about 5 minutes. Just get them nice and soaked.

Next, you will want to bang the stumps. You can use a bat to hit the stump. Don’t really crack the thing and damage the stump, but give it a couple whacks on all sides. This will kickstart production.

Other Tips

After 6 months, keep an eye on the logs or you may miss the first production.

Stumps in the shade will produce best.

Too much direct sun will dry out the stump and they will not produce.

Harvest them when the cap is between 3-4 inches.

To dry, put them in a 200-degree oven until the caps are shrunken and hard.

Of course, the other payoff is that these mushrooms will hasten the decomposition of that problem stump. It won’t work as quickly as a stump grinder, but you will get years of delicious mushrooms out of it!

[elltheenergetic]

“I am still in control.”

[OPEN ROLEPLAY

(trigger warning right here because holy shit it is descriptive. gore and some other good stuff. if you got tagged especially fox just know that this is in her dreams and nothing he says is real in this. anyway don’t worry guys she will be A-OKAY AFTER THIS! probably.) @rosedawolf

Ell returned to the forest, her scythe perched against what was left of a tree stump. She exhaustedly picked it up, her fingers tightening around it so it wouldn’t slip out of her grasp.

As she began to make her way back, she began to feel off. Her steps began heavier, more frantic. Her heart pounded against her chest insistently. Where was it. Where was the path? She tried to retrace her steps, but to no avail, no avail at all. I need to get out of here. Even though there was none, she felt a silhouette behind her.

Ellenor’s head began to spin, causing her to loose track of her trail. She began to violently cough, collapsing to the tall grass as blood trickled down her clothing. An aggressive yell echoed through the forest, not realizing it came from her own throat. Ell clenched at her scythe desperately, dragging it towards her side. Fighting to stay awake, she tried to push herself up with her weapon, but accidentally made a clean chop off a part of her horn.

“Fuck!” Her eyes widened in pain, writhing on the ground until she had tired herself out. With the strength she could muster, Ell pushed her back against a tree and began to doze off.

Everything went to black.

@soriyafuq

As Ell blinked her eyes open, there she was. Artemis stood there, that poor smile moments before the incident.

“WAIT!” She had tried to exclaim, but nothing came out of her mouth. The bombs went off, the gasps and screams emerging from the crowd around. Blood splattered around the premises that was once Artemis.

nononononononotagainplease

As the others ran up to the injured goddess, she stood there, frozen, preoccupied in her own horror. Then she sprinted down the steps, eventually tumbling down, the guilt overwhelming her mind.

Why couldn’t I do anything to save her? Why?

Embodying the beauty of fallen dreams.

Her consciousness blinked, again.

This time there was black. All black. Nothingness for miles and eternity.

Ell began to walk forward, still captivated by the relapse of the final trial. She began to lament, before stopping dead in her tracks like a deer in headlights.

Fog scattered around the area, Selene standing in the middle of the madness. Petrified for a moment, Ell then sprinted forward with open arms, wanting to pull her into an embrace. But, no matter how much she ran, she couldn’t reach her. Her sister only seemed to appear farther away each time she got even remotely close.

Once she had finally reached her, pulling her into her arms, she realized that Selene was gone.

She had been gone.

Blinding eyes appears everywhere she looked, staring at her menacingly.

I’m not good enough. I will never be good enough.

Lay your head down to rest.

Ellenor wrapped her arms over her own eyesight, shielding her from the intense stares.

As she slowly removed them, she found herself elsewhere.

@foxthewall

A familiar friend. A feel of safety. She found herself in a coffee shop with Fox Wallis. They sat at a table together. Ellenor examined his friendly demeanor and expression, but something felt off. She took a swig of her coffee and glanced around at the eerily quiet cafe.

“I-… I should go.”

He didn’t respond. He just kept… looking.

Ell pushed herself to her feet, removing eye contact as she edged toward the door.

She paused.

“…Hello? Fox?”

No response.

Just as Ell opened the door, that was when he stood up, slowly inching closer.

He mumbled something she couldn’t quite comprehend:

“Blfi hgfyylim mzgfiv droo gzpv blf mldsviv yfg blfi wvnrhv.”

“What?”

“Gsviv droo yv mlmv gl yoznv yfg blfihvou.”

“I don’t understand.”

She backed up and ran out of the door, leading her back to there.

Ambition. Allow it to lead you foward.

Her tense mind wrapped around the various smiling faces of chattering people. She walked forward in a daze, the target standing out like an eyesore.

“Hello?” She said, that menacing but welcoming expression only serving as a factor to Pheonix’s motive.

She tried to hold back, but the words slipped off her tongue. Phoenix remembered every little detail. “You must be Erica? Erica Wilm?” Her faced flooded with anxiety, eyes darting frantically around. There was no exit. The event was too crowded with people.

“Yes, that’s me.”

Pheonix smirked. “Ah, well, may I ask you to come with me? I’d like to know some more about you. We’ll share a drink. It’s on me.” The target hesitantly agreed, following her steps. The plan should role out perfectly, and, if not, she had other ideas, too. Pheonix brought the two of them to a private table. The event seemed to be serving food and drinks as well.

“So, anything you wanted to speak with me specifically about?”

Pheonix began to fabricate lies on the spot. “Oh, not much.. you are quite the pretentious person. I’m surprised there’s not that many fawning back there.”

“I’m flattered.”

A waiter came nearby, the light illuminating his occupied manners.

“Can I get you anything else?” He asked, his rushed eyes scanning the table for any refills of their waters.

“No, thank you.” Pheonix dissmissively shooed him away, not allowing the target to even make eye contact with him. Her eyes turned to her, “Erica, why don’t you grab us some menus? She nodded with a gentle smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but it was fine. It would be over soon. Meanwhile, she edged over to the target’s side of the table and began to stir the poison in stealthily, quickly rushing back over as she saw her begin to approach. The target passed Pheonix one of the menus. She began to raise her glass of water. “Cheers?”

“Cheers.” The two of their glasses met in a clinking embrace. She took a sip of her water and watched the dehydrated target take a swig of hers.

It wasn’t long before the target began to cough and sputter. “Erica? Are you alright?” She edged forward in her chair, trying to hide the pleasure of success flowing through her mind. She didn’t respond. She kept coughing. Just as her poor body had gone limp, Ellenor heard frightening words emerge from her dying mouth.

“Are you sorry? Will you ever face the consequences?”

And then it was gone.

Ell groggily awoke, blood rushing to her head. She felt a throbbing pain in her chest. Looking down, she had seen the clear stab wound created from her scythe. Ell leaned her head black, slamming it against the oak, grunting. She was too tired to take care of it. Blood pooled in a circle around her. Her eyes burned with a fierce tolerance of her current state. I’m not going to let up.

“Damn it..” she muttered, harshly.

It wasn’t long before she heard footsteps near. She grabbed her scythe, laboriously pulling herself to her feet as her organs churned within her. It was pathetic to be seen like this. She glanced around and hid behind it, her eyes relentlessly scanning the area for passerby’s.

(SORRY IF THAT WAS A LOT TO READ.. HEH. IF YOU READ ALLAT I CONGRATULATE YOU)

[chocsra]

idk abt others but yes i do eat up every single one of ur hs au bc it's so silly and yes i am looking at you with a chuuya plushie in my hand to ask for a dazai x reader hs au fanfic

✧ "YOU ARE THE CITY OF MY HEART"

☆ synopsis ↺: skipping class with your classmate, dazai yet again. but this time, you explore the ocean of your feelings together.

☆ content ↺: HIGHSCHOOL AU 15ZAI, musical prodigy! dazai, photographer! dazai, introvert! dazai, slightly ooc, fluff

☆ NOW PLAYING ↺: UNDERSTAND — keshi

☆ w/c ↺: 2k

you don't think you have ever lived without noise,

ever since you were a kid, you were talked your ear off by your parents, lectured by several adults, and screamed plentifully with friends. when there was silence, there was music to mask it. good or bad noise, it existed, survived, and was a huge part of your life.

but you,

Dazai Osamu, are probably the quietest person you've ever known.

the only sound you could associate with him was the shutter of a camera taking a picture—the same sound you've been continually hearing.

It was a regular school day, both dressed in full uniform, baking under the bright rays of the morning sun. There wasn't anything particularly wrong about this day. you could pick off the reddening leaves from bark-ridden tree branches and soak in the imprint of tree stumps, looking ever so similar to that of a fingerprint. it was a pretty autumn day; you just so happened to get to see that. you think, taking a withering leaf into the palm of your hand.

shutter.

"osamu, stop taking photos of me." —you chide, gently swatting the pointed camera out of view. the brunette in front of you, currently crouching, laughs boyishly as he removes his face pressed against the camera, gaze now overseeing the autumn sight before him. "sorry," dazai whispers, tinkering with a few buttons to review the photos he took. "you don't have to skip class with me, y'know." he murmurs, eyes glued to his camera.

he was a photographer, a pretty one at that. quiet and mysterious, you were rather surprised to learn that a boy reads fine literature and other classical means. sometimes, he picked up a violin or combined delicate fingers to gracefully waltz with a grand piano. his most prized possession was a camera, freezing the most beautiful of the intricacies of nature and people. but who was he? the boy who read books instead of taking notes in lectures, wavy chocolate brown hair that sun rays adored to find a home in, and a tall and slim build fitted in a school uniform and bandages. to capture the slope of his cheek, the deep hazel in hollow irises, and his olive skin. he was Dazai Osamu, a walking mystery.

so, you'd like to know where you stood with him in terms of relationship and if he even likes you at all. skipping class together, sneaking in your window at night, pretending to hang out with friends if it meant seeing him—it didn’t feel like something close friends did, like he was a secret you wanted to keep for yourself. but you couldn’t tell if that greed was reciprocated, if he was bored, or even considered you a close friend, a best friend. but instead of worrying too much, you only watch how his fingers work with a bulky camera, capturing nature's highs and lows.

“i know,” you twiddle with your fingers, grumbling, “class is boring anyway.” the brunette furrows his brows at the photos, brushing your excuse off, “this is shit. i think i’ve taken enough photos around the school.” he groans softly; you could practically hear his creative mind burning in the process. “did you delete the picture of me?” you question, standing over the lanky boy’s crouched form. “no, that one is good. i mean, the actual background, it's all repetitive.”

you tap a finger on your chim, “ahh,” you hum, pretending to understand his perspective. “winter should be here already.” the teenager grumbles under his breath before letting go of the camera to let it hang off his neck. you pace around slowly, feeling the surface of leaves crushing under your heels. “I mean, you don’t have to stay in school if you’re already skipping class.” you mutter, watching as a boyish grin lights up on his face. “you’re right, [y/n]! let’s go!”

a cold hand wraps his fingers around yours before dragging you to the nearest exit—"dazai!” you whine as the brunette drags you, “it’s cooooolllddddd!” you complain, your scarf nearly falling off as you run and run. hand in hand. this rather rushing feeling brings you a taste of memories you barely remember you had.

no one understood Dazai Osamu,

because he was a prodigy, he was something. something big, something great, something that made other geniuses seethe in envy. the boy had extraordinary intellect but a weak mind. no, dazai wasn't weak. he was just always unwell to a certain degree, and to most, it didn't take much to figure out—wearing long sleeves in summer, loving bandages for the comforting feelings even if he didn't need them, and reading books guiding the suicidal. dazai never hid it—that he was unwell, almost like a cry for help.

but for the genius that he was, nobody understood that.

but you did, in seventh grade. you were sniffling, pacing in remnants of snow as tears blurred your vision. though in your hazy field of sight, you outline the figure of one of your classmates approaching you, his tall frame catching the snowflakes from hitting your face. slowly, a boyish voice calls out.

"...are you okay?"

it was dazai, the stone-faced boy and talented prodigy. he wore a black trenchcoat, a little too big for his figure, and covered one of his chocolate brown eyes with bandages. you shook your head, a throbbing pain added from the tinge of snowflakes collecting in your hair. his stoic gaze never left you, standing there in the middle of a snowstorm, crying. the boy himself couldn't muster a feasible reason for walking outside in a snowstorm at this hour, so out of courtesy and a slight tinge of nervousness, he whispered, "let's go for a walk."

suddenly, nimble fingers reach out to grab yours; your fingers are used to originally wipe snot and cover your face. but dazai had no reaction to anything gross like that—like snot and tears. instead, he took shaky fingers into the cold ones of his own, pulling you gently along the sidewalk. you could barely make out his face or your feelings at the moment, only focused on his broad shoulders covered by that raven trench coat, soaking up snowflakes and the well of your tears.

from there, you walked and walked. hand in hand. soon running together with no particular destination—only feeling your body starting to warm up, sore feet clashing against snow, and his hand that never let go of yours.

Dazai Osamu never knew why you were crying, nor did you know what ever went through his head that day.

but from that moment forward,

you understood him.

soon, you were led by that same hand past pretty autumn leaves and into a foresty meadow, closed off from the rest of the world. several forms of wildlife scrapped by, followed by a murky pond under the sun's wake, surrounded by trees of reds and oranges. it perfectly provided what the school's campus couldn't—a sense of divergence reeling in the soft convolutions of your brain. "pretty, isn't it?"—the brunette chimes, panting from the long distance you two ran. "why'd you do that?" you grumble, rubbing your abdomen from an incoming sharp pain, "don't you have asthma?"

he immediately backtracks, shooting you an unamused glare, "that's.. enough." dazai huffs, before removing the strapped camera around his neck, "here, maybe you can take better pictures than i can." the boy chuckles shyly, a very drastic verbal response than his usual arrogance.

"hmm," a gentle hum slips past your lips, squinting one of your eyes in order to press the machine against your face. "i can try." after scouting the area with his camera for a few seconds, you began to snap a few shots at the darkening lake, carrying several leaves in its wake.

and as you paid full attention to the awaiting winter, dazai's gaze stayed on you, his autumn. his gaze softened and his slightly chapped lips parted in a momentary surprise, taking you in with every breath he took. Dazai himself loved photography; he loved capturing moments that would soon get lost in time. the brunette, with a talent for many things, found solace in photos. he loved to take photos of resting cats, dark sceneries you'd only find in an alleyway of a fantasy novel, and candid pictures of random couples on dates. dazai loved taking photos but detested that he didn't have a camera on hand at the moment—for he wanted to freeze this divine sight of you in the confines of his brain. your face, fingers, the dip and curve of every facial feature, and how the lighting kisses your skin and hair.

"how's it like? being a total genius?"

you were rather familiar with all your classmates, just curiously getting to know the mysterious musical prodigy, dazai osamu. it was a work period, and everyone in class already begun to slack off, especially since there was a supply.

and you knew that the lanky boy was eerily quiet when the school's athletic hotshot, Chuuya Nakahara, wasn't around. so, asking stupid questions won't exactly result in stupid answers, or so you thought.

"why? wanna be like me?" — he smiles teasingly, tilting his sharp jaw in your direction. "don't think someone who cries in the snow can do it, sorry." you freeze up and scoff, slightly embarrassed from the former interaction you had with him. "dick." a peaceful but awkward silence fills the air between both of you before the boy clears his throat awkwardly. "But i'd be willing to talk about it if you let me bother you at lunch.?"

the question itself caught you off guard. looking around at the chattering students, "i—" the brunette backtracked, hiding his face slightly with gauzed fingers. "Actually!—I am going to bother you. you're friends with chuuya, aren't you?" you shrug, eyes fluttering to the ground, "..i guess so, but i don't eat with him or his friends."

A breathless chuckle slips past the prodigy's lips before covering his mouth softly, completely ignoring you, "alright then, see you anyway, crybaby."

he hates himself for not knowing what to do with you, but he loved you more to let hate consume him, like usual. dazai wanted you; he didn't know what yearning was until he saw pieces of you in sunsets, rain and snow. he's felt destiny with his childhood friend, chuuya nakahara. but he's never felt something so desiring, pining — like he wanted to be with you every day. and maybe one of those days he'll feel you without the stupid gauze wrapped around his fingers. maybe one day he can hold your hand without the excuse of dragging you somewhere new. maybe one day, dazai will figure out how to ask you to be his, how to love you, because he's sure you're the one he wants to love.

"ahh, wait.."

you cock a brow at his shocked face, grabbing onto your sleeve as if the prodigy were reaching for the stars.

"I wish I were a painter, instead." the boy pouts, holding your sleeve childishly, pulling a chuckle from your throat, "why is that, huh?"

dazai's eyes, ever so empty and unfilled, now gleam, pretty and gentle. Softly reaching out to part a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear, gazing up at you feverishly. "usually, I'm so prideful about these things, photography.."

The prodigy clears his throat, his fingers threading through soft strands of hair tucked behind your ear. "But your eyes, they are really pretty." Your lips part bashfully surprised, overcoming your ability to move.

The boy continues as if his mouth was switched on autopilot: " So I wish I could paint them instead. I guess just looking works, too, though."

He smiles cheekily.

all you ever knew was noise,

but you, Dazai Osamu, had that kind of silence to keep you awake at night. Whether that'd be holding hands in a snowstorm, or the few moments he'd stare into your eyes.

Little did you know, that was the moment he fell in love. Or rather, the time it took him to realise you don't fall.

That love has grown before you can even realise it.

✧ chocsra™

[toronto-tree-removal]

Expert Tree Removal Services in Toronto: Why It Matters for Safety & Aesthetics

Introduction: The Importance of Professional Tree Removal

Trees are an essential part of Toronto’s urban landscape, offering shade, beauty, and environmental benefits. However, there are times when tree removal becomes a necessity due to safety hazards, disease, or urban development needs. At Toronto Tree Removal, we specialize in safe, professional, and efficient tree removal services across various neighborhoods, including The Annex, The Beaches, Liberty Village, and more.

In this post, we’ll discuss when tree removal is necessary, the process involved, and how to choose the best tree removal service in Toronto.

When Should You Consider Tree Removal?

Not all trees need to be removed, but some situations demand professional intervention. Here are common reasons why property owners in Toronto might need tree removal services:

Dead or Dying Trees: If a tree is diseased, decaying, or completely dead, it poses a significant risk of falling and causing damage.

Storm Damage: Severe weather, including strong winds and ice storms, can weaken trees, making them unstable.

Structural Damage Risk: If tree roots are damaging underground pipes, sidewalks, or your home’s foundation, removal may be the best solution.

Obstructing Construction or Landscaping Projects: Sometimes, trees need to be cleared for new buildings, driveways, or other landscaping projects.

Invasive Species & Infestations: Trees affected by pests like the emerald ash borer may need to be removed to prevent the spread to healthy trees.

If you’re unsure whether a tree should be removed, our team at Toronto Tree Removal can provide an assessment.

The Tree Removal Process: What to Expect

At Toronto Tree Removal, we follow a structured and safe approach to tree removal:

1. Site Inspection & Assessment

Our ISA-certified arborists first assess the tree's condition, size, and location to determine the safest removal method.

2. Obtaining Necessary Permits

In Toronto, tree removal regulations require permits for trees over 30 cm in diameter on private property. We assist clients with the application process, ensuring compliance with city regulations.

3. Safe & Efficient Tree Removal

Using specialized equipment such as ropes, harnesses, and cranes, we carefully cut and remove the tree in sections, minimizing damage to surrounding property.

4. Stump Grinding & Cleanup

Once the tree is removed, we offer stump grinding services to eliminate the remaining base, leaving a clean and usable space.

5. Eco-Friendly Disposal & Recycling

We ensure that all removed trees are properly disposed of or repurposed, such as being turned into mulch or firewood.

Why Choose Toronto Tree Removal?

Choosing the right tree removal company is essential for safety, efficiency, and legal compliance. Here’s why Toronto Tree Removal is a trusted choice:

✅ Fully Licensed & Insured: We are WSIB-covered and adhere to all safety regulations to protect our workers and your property. ✅ Certified Arborists: Our team includes ISA-certified arborists who bring expertise and precision to every job. ✅ Fast & Reliable Service: Available 7 days a week from 7 AM to 10 PM, we offer emergency tree removal services when needed. ✅ Competitive Pricing & Free Estimates: We provide affordable tree removal services with upfront pricing and no hidden fees.

For professional tree removal in areas like Rosedale, East York, and Forest Hill, contact us today!

Conclusion: Protect Your Property with Expert Tree Removal

Tree removal isn’t just about cutting down trees—it’s about protecting your home, enhancing your landscape, and ensuring safety. At Toronto Tree Removal, we offer professional, safe, and efficient tree removal services across Toronto.

📞 Call Us Today: 647-558-1366 📍 Address: 2 Forest Laneway #304, Toronto, ON M2N 5X7 📧 Email: info@torontotreeremoval.ninja 🌍 Website: https://www.torontotreeremoval.ninja

Citations:

Toronto Tree Removal Services

Tree Bylaws & Removal Permits – City of Toronto

ISA Certified Arborists – Why Certification Matters

[lovelyyy-luna]

the hand that feeds

pairing: (mizu x fem!reader)

fandom: blue eye samurai

pronouns: she/her

type: smut

warning: dom!mizu and bratty!reader. This is pure filth and I don’t apologize for that. Spanking, choking, object penetration there’s probably more but you get the gist

a/n: juban is the underslip when wearing a kimono. haori is the outer robe of the men’s outfit.

aa/n: tagging @firelillys and @bxllamiizu both of y’all inspired me to write this. also tagging @angelltheninth

word count: 2019

date: december 20, 2023

masterlist

She dragged you away deep into the forest.

She was angry. You’ve seen her mad before but this time she was pissed.

“I told you how many times to stop complaining? And what do you do? You keep fucking complaining.”

She was tugging on your arm, you slightly liked the pain, and you hoped there was going to be a bruise around your wrist when she was done with you.

You finally stopped in a clearing

“So what do you have to say for yourself?” She slightly pushed you away.

You stumbled a bit but caught yourself.

“Hm?”

“I’m. Cold.” You say sternly. All this started because you kept complaining about the temperature.

“You knew this when you tagged along.”

“I didn’t know it’d be this fucking cold.” You mutter to yourself.

Swiftly she drew her blade and cut the belt that held your kimono together. Your juban was what was exposed. Just that thin slip of fabric was what kept you from becoming frostbitten.

She put the blade back into the holster, “How cold are you now?”

“Freezing,” you said above a whisper, holding yourself for some warmth.

“Would you like to be warmed up?” She stepped close to you, you could feel her breath on your face like a slight blanket on your cheeks.

You nod at her question.

She removes the kimono off your shoulders and it falls to the ground. Now just in your juban, she could truly see how cold you were, your nipples were peaked and that sight of you could make her go down on her knees but she wasn’t in a very giving mood at the moment.

Harshly she went between your thighs and her finger ever so lightly went between your slick.

“Hmm, no undergarments? No wonder you’re fucking cold. Or maybe, this was your plan the whole time. To piss me off and get me to fuck you.”

You stand there in the cold of the forest and nod. It was pathetic really but she was enjoying every second of it.

She looked down at you and her piercing blue eyes had a tinge of red in them.

“On your knees, dove.”

‘Dove’, that was her nickname for you, and every time she said it it made you weak in the knees.

You slowly sank to the ground kneeling on your kimono that was the barrier between the snowy ground and your skin.

You looked up at her and she towered over you.

“Now turn around.”

You obeyed every order and shuffled on the ground to have your back facing her.

She then kneeled behind you pressing her chest against your back. That touch alone made you moan and your head fell back into the crook of her neck.

Her hands then travel up your juban and tug at the string exposing you completely. Then her fingers trail up your stomach to your breasts slowly rubbing your nipples between her fingers.

Soft moans fall from your lips.

“Oh is my little dove enjoying this?” She cooed at you.

You nod whimpering at her touch.

“Well, I don’t want you to enjoy it.” Her voice was stern and gritty.

The hand that was touching you quickly went up to your throat gripping tightly and caught you off guard.

She then drew her blade again holding the blade closely to the two of you, your breath was staggered and was fogging up the metal weapon.

With a clean swipe the tree that was in front of you was soon just a stump.

“Bend over, dove.”

You nod and bend over on the freshly chopped stump. The white fabric of your robe rose as you bent over.

You were excited and nervous about what Mizu had planned for you.

Lost in your thoughts were broken from the harsh stinging from her hand landing on your ass.

You yelp at the sensation and shoot a look back at her.

She glared at you, “Eyes forward dove.”

You look back forward and another blow comes down on the same place. Only two smacks in and you already couldn’t handle it.

“Do you know how many times you complained about the cold?”

You shake your head.

“Thirteen times in ten minutes. So that means I’m going to do the same to you and you’re not going to say a word.”

You nod slowly.

Another smack landed on the opposite cheek giving the other side a break but it was short-lived when she smacked you hard again.

You looked behind you wanted to see the damage she caused so far and you knew by the end of this you were going to have welts.

She made you count, on the verge of tears with each blow. It was painful but you wanted this. You knew that with each smack it was full of love.

She was finally done and then felt her lips trailing down your back. The fabric of your robe was so thin that it felt like there was nothing between the two of you. Her hands then caressed your puffed abused cheeks.

Her kiss then went up to your neck and then to your ears, “I still don’t think you’ve learned your lesson.”

You whimper at her words, your hand slowly goes in search of hers. Once you find it you bring her hand up to your lips slowly kissing her fingers putting them into your mouth sucking on them.

She chuckles at your actions, “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

You slowly turn to look at her, “I was um…”

“Oh did you think you were going to be fucked by my fingers?” Her chuckle was deep at mocking, “Oh my little dove do you think you even deserve my fingers?”

You look at her confused, then your eyes follow down to her other hand and it lays on the handle of her sword. You gulp and you look back up at her and she is grinning.

You bit your lip at just the thought of her using the handle on you and you instantly got wet.

“Turn back around,” she whispered.

You do as you are told and once shuffling around you bend over the stump, but it was not to her standards. She gripped your hips and pushed you into the stump. Your pelvic bone was on the outer edge of the stump and she pushed you hard into it giving you small cuts against the wood.

You slowly creep your head to look at her, she unsheathed her sword, stuck the blade between her slightly spread legs, and looked down at the handle and a lob of her spit dangled down on the bound leather.

Her hand then rubbed the spit in and he started to inch it towards your core spreading your lips slowly.

The sensation and the thought of what was happening and what was going to happen was reeling in your head.

The handle itself was 10 inches. You haven’t had anything like that in you for a while and were nervous about how you were going to handle it.

With the handle getting enough of your slick she parted your lips and put the tip in.

You hissed at the feeling, it may have been lubed enough but the soft leather with its ridges was a whole new sensation.

She slowly sunk it in you, not wanting to hurt you or make you uncomfortable but enough to make you feel good.

You then feel yourself hitting her fingers which were a makeshift stopper for you. You were slightly disappointed, you wanted more to go in. You started to wriggle but she stopped you.

Her free hand firmly gripped your hip, “Oh now dove, you aren’t supposed to be enjoying this. I could go rough with you…”

Your eyes lit up hoping that she would.

“But I know you like it rough. So for your punishment, I’m going to go slow. Painfully slow.”

You pout.

“Now no pouting. You’re going to be grateful for whatever I give you, yeah? Fucking grateful.” She pulls your hair at the last sentence causing you to moan.

She then slides it in and out of you slowly, moving her hips with the same motion. She pictures that she is fucking you. Every stroke the handle does in you she imagines that it's her doing that to you.

While she’s in her head you're aching for more so you snake your hand down to your clit rubbing your bundle of nerves.

Thinking about her roughly going at you got you going faster and Mizu noticed your change of breath and that caught her attention.

You were close. So close, until she snatched your hand away and pinned it behind your back.

“Did I tell you you can fucking touch yourself, my little dove?” She seethed.

You lost your hand placement when she pinned you, your upper body was now fully on the stump.

“Hm?” She was waiting for an answer.

“N-no, I'm-I’m sorry Mizu.”

“I don’t believe you. But I don’t think that matters that much at the moment, since you want it rough that’s exactly what I’m going to give you. Gonna have you begging me to stop and I not going to because you did ask for permission and were being a fucking brat.”

Her words made you wet and she felt it when she leaned back from being pressed against you and saw you were practically soaking the handle.

“Fucking pathetic.” She said.

Her hand went down to the base of the blade and steadied herself while continuing to hold on to your pinned arm.

Without wanting she began to violently thrust into you causing you to swing your other around wanting some sort of touch from her.

She was too busy and out of arms to swat your other hand away.

You were a mumbling mess, drool came from your mouth smearing on your cheek and the flat wood surface.

“M-Mizu-u-u,” you cry to her.

“Yes, my little dove?”

You forgot what you were going to say, she was fucking you dumb.

She laughed, “Oh my little dove having a good time?”

You nod, gripping her sleeve from behind.

You were close to your orgasm and she could tell.

You were taking the handle very well practically swallowing it whole and she kept hitting your sweet spot.

“Fu-u-uck Mizu,” tears were streaming down your cheeks, freezing almost when they hit the winter air.

With one more thrust, she holds it in you and you squirt all over the handle and her hand.

You were breathing heavily, legs shaking and she slowly took the handle out, wiped it off, and placed it back in her holster.

You couldn’t move. You were still bent over the stump.

“Dove? Did I work you too hard?”

She bent down near your face wiping your matted hair off your face, petting the tears away.

I shake my head smiling slightly at her.

“It was perfect.” You whisper, “I just can’t get up.”

She chuckles slightly. “Let me help you.”

She picks you up and then seats you down on the stump. You hissed at the pain you had forgotten from your ass but pulled through as she picked up your soaked from the snow kimono.

She noticed you shaking from the cold. She takes off her haori and places it on you.

You look up at her, mouthing a thank you.

“I'll tell you what, once we get to the next town I'll buy you a new kimono.” She smiles down at you.

You smile back holding my hand up from her to help me stand, “A pretty one?”

You lean on her and we both walk back to where our cart was, “Yes my dove. The prettiest one,” she chuckles

You smile giddy and then look down at my hands and groan, “I got splinters in my hand! God this is gonna take forever to get out!”

She rolled her eyes smiling as she dragged you back over to the clearing.

On to round two before you annoy her more.

♡please like comment and/or reblog♡

wanna be tagged? (X)

[milkweedman]

Proof of concept thorn tool. (Much better versions of) these are known throughout prehistory and were used to process plant fibers. I didn't know if they'd work well enough on milkweed to bother with, but now I have tried.

I probably need at least 30 thorns, and definitely longer ones. I was collecting and storing some in my rollator bag, and I think they might have been falling out because I definitely picked way more. But even like 7 or so very short ones bound together (badly) with flax was still, in fact, a far more effective tool than just my hands.

I only processed one milkweed stalk, since it was getting dark and this tool does absolutely suck, but I got it from whole rhetted stalk to fiber in about 10 minutes, and I think I could easily do 2 or 3 stalks at once and it would take the same.

I first smashed the stalk with a hammerstone against a wooden stump to get the hard pith out. The stone on wood technique is new to me but very effective. I'd been trying stone on stone (lack of available tree stumps to work on) and it hardly gets the pith out at all. But stone on wood is super effective as well, definitely will keep doing that.

After removing the pith I combed it repeatedly with the tool. This was made difficult by the fact that the tool was constantly wiggling around and falling apart. But it quickly stripped the outer layer off the fibers. Previously I had been rubbing them between my hands, which was very very slow and tended to damage the fibers. I got the idea from Sally Pointer's videos, but I think milkweed might just have too thin an outer layer ? Or some other reason (or maybe I was doing it wrong, but I don't see how as it is just rubbing). So the tool worked much better and faster. It did produce a lot of tow, although better technique and a better tool will probably help with that.

The line fibers

The tow fibers (top--I didn't have the energy to clean them up, but these should be spinnable as a rolag once I do)

Also tried a little cordage. My twist ratio was way off, which is a new cordage problem for me. I was curious how it would work up, but I don't plan to continue it. Not sure what to do with the rest of the milkweed though. I'm not very confident about spinning it, although maybe if I processed it more I'd have a better chance. At the moment it feels very rigid...not like the flax or hemp I've used.

Anyway, I need to go back to the hawthorn trees I found in the winter and look for new thorns I guess, although it might be too early. I really want a better tool so I can process the mountain of milkweed stalks before I move.

[dalydily]

I was hunting down the real life term for the thing gardeners do to trees to change how they grow and the resulting shapes, but the only term i could find that worked was "tree shaping", "tree bracing", and topiary so let's go with that!

I've seen a few common interpretations of the horns and chains around Promised Consort Radahn's arms and legs. Many of them I like and agree with, but that doesn't mean I can come up with completely different ones!

At first I thought that these looked like chains binding Mohg/Radahn for Miquella to more easily control, but what if they're there to help/protect Radahn?

Normal animal horns grow in set patterns and only injure and interfere with the animal in unusual cases.

But Omen horns aren't a natural attribute. As a result of the Hornsent curse they grow erratically to the point of self harm. Despite the likelihood of death Omen babies have their horns cut off to increase their quality of life, even though theyre shunned and left in the sewers.

The Omen Bairns:

Mohg takes pride in his cursed blood, as a child of Marika bearing the Omen curse. Kidnapping war surgeons, worshipping the Formless Mother, spreading his blood; all serve to legitimize himself and his condition.

His horns are the clearest icon of his cursed but royal blood. He takes great pride in them and clearly maintains their appearance and health. Which also means he doesn't cut or even trim his horns to the point that it causes self harm. He probably sees himself as a sort of new divinity and is unwilling to do anything to defy that.

Much like a tree that grows without any outside intervention, such as too heavy branches, lopsided growth, a bent or twisted trunk and so on. That's why we have gardeners and arborist after all.

As a side note I see his identity being a combo of his bloodline (Marika's child) and his curse (which isn't actually associated with blood or relationships, bit possibly just chance). It's why his dynasty doesn't involve any other Omens.

Mohg doesn't actually venerate the Hornsent curse, he is propping up his unique combination as making him worthy of power and divinely appointed authority.

Morgott on the other hand hates himself, his curse, and all other Omens. To Morgott their suffering is well deserved. He keeps his fellows imprisoned in the sewers and allows the Omenkillers to act freely.

Morgott never (meaningfully) denies being an Omen himself though. He keeps his misshapen horns that are clearly unmaintained, but also has what looks like stumps of sawn off horns. He's doing the bare minimum to maintain his capabilities

The only horns he's removed are the ones above his eyes, likely self inflicted so he can at least see. Otherwise like Mohg he keeps his horns, though oit of self hatred rather than pride.

As for Miquella, let's take another look at the horns on Radahn's arms and legs.

Note the chains are only around the horns and don't even overlap his bracers. You can see that they're actually winding around and between individual horns.

We know that Omen horns don't grow in a natural pattern and can maim the Bearer without proper care.

Perhaps Miquella is using these chains to guide the horns growth in a healthy way. And though the horns are probably young they look to be in better shape than Morgotts.

Miquella is heavily associated with gardening, such as Lilies and the Haligtree. He's the middle ground between Mohg and Morgott. The former cares for and maintains his horns but puts no limits on his growth to the point of self harm, the latter hacks off his own for utility but doesn't maintain them. And here's Miquella caring for them by allowing them the grow in a safe and controlled way.

I'd go even further and say this is Miquella's and Radahn's way of showing respect towards Mohg. They could have hacked them off, or found a way to keep them from growing. This is in spite of Ansbach's words that they are disgracing Mohg. Ansbach is pretty conflicted himself about Miquella given his conversations and armor description.

Relatedly, I think that Mohg's soul hasn't yet fully left his body. If he was fully dead when Radahn's souls was placed in his body then there wouldn't be any horns left.

Morgott's corpse lacks horns to the point that there are holes in his skin where the horns were. That, and he shrunk down quite a bit, though that could be some gameplay or development contrivance to fit Godfrey's model.

I think, in lore, the horns are a physical manifestation of the curse, to the point that the horns grow out from the soul itself. Thus upon death the soul takes the horns with it, leaving said holes.

Perhaps some part of Mohg's soul was merged with Radahn's in the process, or pieces were left behind to be absorbed. Radahn can use 1 Bloodflame spell despite likely never encountering it before. Seems unlikely he could use said spells if Mohg's knowledge was completely gone.

The horns being present only on his limbs means his soul has mostly taken over Mohg's body. What little influence Mohg/the Omen curse has over the body has been pushed out to the limbs, and isn't likely to come back.

Perhaps some part of Mohg did get to be Miquella's Consort, in a way.

Final point, now all 3 Carian siblings have had their souls transposed into new bodies. Ranni into multiple doll bodies, Rykard consumed then possessing the serpent, and now Radahn possessing Mohg's corpse/body.

[felinisnoctis]

An Elder and a Chaplain

Tags: @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for Nanael. Other tags @egrets-not-regrets @nightshade-victorian @legionsofthehungry @kit-williams @sleepyfan-blog

Warnings: References to past trauma

Alternate Title: Nanael finally gets a hug.

Nanel was stalking through the woods, tracking a herd of deer, when he stumbled upon an altar.  Startled and suspicious, he stopped to examine it.  It was carved from what looked like an old tree stump, into an imperial aquila on the top and a blood drop design running down the side.  The altar had been carefully stained with natural dyes; fresh flowers rested off to one side while the other held a bowl with remains of dried blood inside it.  Well, whoever it belonged to, it wasn’t another chaos bastard.  That was a good sign.  He looked around the area a little more.  There was a shelter off to the side - he’d almost missed it the first time because it was built against a hillside and covered over with leaves and brush.  He vaguely recalled they’d been taught to do that if they ever needed long term insulation.  It could be oddly cozy.

Curious, he found the door and knocked.  He heard someone get up before the door was opened by a visibly old Astartes.  The stranger wore no armor but had a sniper rifle slung over his back, as well as a pistol and dagger at his hips.

“Excuse, me, sir, but, I saw your base and, well, there’s some chaos patrols in the area and I was wondering if I could come in?” Nanael asked the strange marine.  “My name’s Nanael.”

“Job.  There’s a basket of nuts by the fire that need to be sorted and shelled,” Job gestures to a fire at the back of the hut, carefully set so the smoke filtered out and disappated along the hillside.  Nanael ducked through the door and settled down on the floor, throwing the rotten nuts into the fire and shelling the good ones.

“My husband will be back from hunting in a bit,” he adds as Nanael settles down.  Job has a basket of dried grass that he’s twisting into twine for nets.  There’s a pot warming by the fire with some sort of stew that smells strongly of onions, and a couple of rough pelts laid out over top of a pile of leaves to form an ample bed for a pair of astartes.  Other than that there were a few carved eating utensils, several woven snare traps, and a set of bone needles and crochet hooks.  In fact there was very little evidence of anything beyond primitive other than the weapons Job wore.  Had he not been in contact with other astartes on Terra before this?

Just as Nanael was thinking that the door opened.  Nanael snapped up and to attention on instinct as he saw the armor.  Lamenter yellow with the skull helmet of a chaplain.  “Chaplain sir!” He thought for a moment the older brother might be primaris himself from his size, but dismissed that after watching the older marine move.

“At ease, little brother.  My armor is for fighting brambles today anyway.  Sit down and tell me how you came here.”  The chaplain removed his helmet.  “I go by Chaplain Malachai, may I have your name?”

“Apprentice-Librarian Nanael sir!” Nanael snapped out before sitting down as ordered and beginning to tell the story.  How he fell trying to fight off a xeno attack and woke up on a strange planet.  How - he hesitates for a moment before going on into the story - how a vision of their Lord Father Sanguinius came to him before he woke up.  How he had died at the hands of that foul chaplain, and then woken up and fallen into the clutches of a chaos warband.  How his rescuers had chased him away for being bad luck.  He’s not sure how, but at the end of the story he realizes he’s no longer sitting up, but leaning into his older brother’s armor and sobbing. 

“I…Sorry sir! I didn’t mean to be disrespectful sir!” he stammers out as he realizes what position he’s in.  

“It’s not a sin to seek comfort from a brother,” Chaplain Malachai tells him, tugging him in as Nanael collapsed onto his chest.  “You were brought here and spared for a purpose, clearly.  I do not know what it is yet but you must keep your faith strong.  And your body - so how about you share our dinner and then we can talk more?”

Nanael nodded obediently.  He’s been so tense since coming to ancient Terra.  Somehow his elder brother-chaplain got him to relax as he accepted a bowl of the stew.  He ate quietly and followed his older brother out to check the snares and help skin and cut the game, the meat and bones going into the ever-boiling pot on the fire.  He helped Job mend some of the snares that were getting too warm before collapsing into a deep sleep on a pile of furs in the corner.

Job looked over at him and shook his head quietly before curling up next to Malachai and going to sleep. If the young one's story was true there was hunting to be done.

[apple-yan]

Fate and Family

Akari (Yandere Dilf Kitsune) x (G/N) reader

TW : death of children, implied pregnancy, gender of reader is not specified but they are implied to look like Akari's late wife, implied reincarnation, ANYTHING TO DO WITH YUKIKO IS STRICTLY PLATONIC AND NON-ROMANTIC

Apple's Note : I enjoyed working on this one a lot. Writing for Akari's daughter was genuinely a delight, I definitely want to return to this concept soon.

The wind howled mercilessly while the kitsune wandered the mountain, lost and empty now that his anger had settled. A child-shaped hole had carved itself into his heart, and the hands he had used to avenge his son and beloved trembled.

Snow fell quietly around him, muffling all but his own heartbeat in his ears, when he sees something twitching in the snow.

An orphaned rabbit, the runt of the bunch. It was barely breathing, abandoned by its mother to freeze.

His eyes soften, picking up the small, helpless creature and holding it close to his heart, cooing and hushing it, "it's okay, it's okay sweetheart," he whispered.

"Papa is here, Papa will help you..."

---

You had to accept it. You were terribly, horribly lost.

You had wandered too far whilst foraging for mushrooms. You were completely turned around and no longer had any idea of north or south.

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose irritatedly as you sit on a stump nearby, taking a small break. The sun was setting and it would get cold soon, the autumn breeze nipping at your cheeks already. You needed to figure something out soon.

As you thought this, you hear the rustling of leaves nearby, turning to see a young girl peeking out from behind a tree, hiding behind it adorably poorly.

The sight brings a slight smile to your face, the cute gesture melting your frustration a bit, and you call out to her, "Hello? Are you lost?"

The girl shakes her head, tilting her head a bit at you and walking closer, curiously glancing over you, "You are though."

You sigh, and nod, "I am. Could you help me? I lost the trail a bit far back."

She nods, smiling at you, showing off the adorable gap between her front teeth. At any other moment you'd likely be fawning over her to her parents, but as you glance around you don't spot anyone else.

"My Papa lives here, he can definitely help! He's really strong and nice, and he's smart too, he probably knows how to get to your home really fast!"

She holds out a hand for you to grab and you accept it, taking her small hand in yours and feeling a warmth in your heart at how tiny it was in comparison.

She looked only about 8 or 9, and you briefly wonder what a small girl like her is doing alone in these woods. That's when you take notice of the ears drooping on the sides of her head, which you had thought were just pigtails from a distance.

For some reason, this realization doesn't shock you like it probably should.

You follow her, leaning down a bit so she can drag you forward while holding your hand, her cute kimono a bit dirty at the edges from a day of playing in the dirt. Leaves and petals lay in her hair and she dismisses them, cutely unaware of how messy it had gotten.

Halfway through, you lean over, helping her resecure her obi and shake some of the leaves out of her hair, chuckling as you smooth her hair out and she gives you a big grin.

"Whats your name anyway, kiddo?"

"I'm Yukiko!"

You smile introducing yourself in return. You continue to follow, as she leads you to an old shrine.

You glance around in wonder, the shrine seemed quite old, but was clearly taken care of well. Wind-chimes jingling softly as you take in the sight.

Yukiko runs up excitedly to the door, kicking off her sandles quickly and removing her socks before stepping in. You follow, clapping your hands in a silent thanks as you apologize for the intrusion before closing the door behind you.

The inside, just the same, is clearly aged, but clean and well maintained. Whoever cared for this shrine did so diligently you noted. The inside was warm and welcoming, lanterns lighting the room.

Yukiko skips excitedly into the next room after sitting you down on a kitchen, coming back dragging a man in a similar way to how she had dragged you just earlier.

The purple haired man had streaks of gray peaking through, chuckling as she excitedly tells him to follow her.

"They're lost and need help, Papa! And don't worry they aren't a.. a tresedpaster."

"Trespasser?" He corrects.

She nods, then excitedly gestures to you, as if showing off a big accomplishment, "see? They asked for help so I took them here because you'll totally help them, right?"

He chuckles at the praise, nodding, "of course, dear," he looks over to you, glancing over you quickly. Something flashes over his expression that you can't quite catch and for a moment you feel cold, before he smiles at you, "Welcome to my home, Little Mouse! My Little Yukiko is just ecstatic to have company all the way out here."

You smile politely, shifting nervously, "Ah- yes- thank you for the hospitality. I'm sorry to bother you so late in the day."

He makes a dismissive wave, smiling at you so widely his eyes seem closed, "All is fine, Little Mouse, if my Little Yukiko likes you, you may as well be family."

Something about the way he phrased that makes you shiver, but you aren't sure why. You nod, glancing up at him and meeting his gaze for the first time.

Embarrassingly, this is the first time you notice the ears on his head. Purple fox ears, standing tall and making the impossibly tall man just a bit larger, "a kitsune..?"

"Ah, yes, sorry for being rude and not explaining before! I am Akari, a fox spirit who has resided in this shrine for many hundreds of years."

Beside him, Yukiko nods excitedly while leaning on the low table, "Papa is so cool, he has a bunch of really pretty and soft tails! I only got one."

Akari chuckles, ruffling her hair carefully, his sharp claws never even getting close to scratching the rabbit's head.

You smile fondly, it was clear from the gentle look on his face how much he cared for his daughter.

Suddenly, you remember what you came here for, snapping, "oh! I'm sorry, but I need help getting back to my village. I got carried away while foraging and got all sorts of turned around."

Akari pauses, turning to look at you as he tilts his head. "You're quite a bit far out then, Mouse, the nearest village is about a two days trip."

You pause, confused, "no, I couldn't have been wandering for more than a few hours.."

Yukiko glances between you two before piping up, "Hey Papa, isn't the mountain all weird for human people? Because you don't want them stealing?"

He hums, nodding, "yes, I did place a curse on it... though that should keep people away, not allow them to get here faster. Unless..." he pauses, looking at you as that same confusing look flashes in his eyes. This time you see it clearly.

Possessiveness. Protectiveness. Like a man looking at a precious jewel he keeps in a glass box or a beautiful fish he keeps in a tank.

He smiles again, "I believe I misspoke, Dearest. Silly me in my old age, I forget things so easily."

"Papa isn't that old though,"

"Hush, Yukiko, it's a joke between grownups." He pats her softly as he smiles at you, "I should be able to get you home in the morning, Mouse. But as of now, the cold is quite unbearable for mortals. I'd hate for you to catch your death."

There's something distant in his tone, as if he isn't really speaking to you. You nod anyways, figuring that it's better to accept an offer of a place to sleep than to try getting home by yourself and freezing.

He hums again, "I almost have dinner ready for me and Yukiko. Would you like to join us? I always make too much."

"Ah, I don't wanna intrude-"

"You should! Papa's cooking is really, really good!"

You pause, heart melting at the little girl's insistence, before nodding, "alright, I will. Thank you."

Dinner is delicious, just like Yukiko told you it would be, and you laughed as Yukiko rambled on about her day playing outside to her dad. Telling him stories about the toads she'd seen and the leaves she'd been jumping in.

After dinner, Akari gathers the dishes, silently excusing himself while Yukiko drags you to her room to take a bath with her. It's only once the girl has nearly gotten you there that you hurriedly stop her,

"Yukiko, I don't have any change of clothes-"

"It's alright, you can use her mother's." Akari speaks from behind you suddenly, and you startle, not having heard him approaching.

"Ah- she said that's okay?"

"I'm sure she would have." He smiles at you, not quite meeting his eyes as he hands you a clean, white kimono. It was soft as silk, with detailed embroidery on the cuffs and edges.

You pause, unsure what he meant, "where is Yukiko's mother?"

He hums, "she slipped through my finger long ago, along with Yukiko's older brother." There's a silent pain in his eyes, and you frown, awkwardly patting his shoulder.

You walk away, following Yukiko to take a bath. After tucking her in for bed, you leave to get some fresh air on the porch.

You're surprised to find Akari sitting there, laying back as he stares at the clouds silently. There's a loneliness about him, but as he glances at you his gaze softens.

"Hello, Mouse. You seem as if you have something on your mind."

You pause, shifting nervously as his golden eyes seem to look right through you, "I'm so sorry for your loss," you move to sit beside him, glancing up at the clouds and stars with him, "I can't imagine the kind of pain that put you through."

"It's alright. Time moves on and fate has plans for us, you know? In my time of greatest need, the world gave me Yukiko," He sighs contentedly, smiling, "and now the world has given me you."

You pause, "excuse me?"

He hums, "you look just the same as last I saw you, Mouse," his eyes are soft as he holds your cheek, smiling gently at you, "you're different, so very different, but you still love our children. And I'm sure you will remember to love me as well, soon."

"I'm not-"

"No need to speak, Mouse. It's late. Thank you for settling Yukiko down, she's usually such a handful before bed." He chuckles, "when I found her, cold and orphaned I just knew.. it was you and Sora and guided me to her. That rabbit runt has grown into a spirit, and she'll live forever here. I couldn't have asked for a better gift, Mouse."

As he speaks, you feel your shoulders slack, your eyes drooping as your head falls on his shoulder.

He laughs softly, moving some of your hair from your forehead, "I've lost you once dear, but I will not lose you again. Say..."

"Why don't we give Yukiko a younger sibling, hm?"