#spring/winter solidarity

[princessnijireiki]

anyway my most spiciest political take right now is so many people are showing how easy it is to lash out when they are feeling helpless, or to believe in a villain they can defeat on a smaller scale than the way the bigger wheels of the world are grinding beyond our reach, because they want to be able to do something, anything, even though that can be propaganda in and of itself, and it makes you lose track of the power of kindness and aid and support in our hands that we can do.

I think the biggest thing people can do is log off, not offline entirely, but log off the platforms where people are screaming at each other just because things feel so fraught that they have to scream and having a target lulls you into feeling like it is productive, and reach out to whoever it is you DO want to help, and ask them what you can do. financially, volunteering, labor, prayer, therapy, buying phone cards, whatever.

it's not as emotionally cathartic as feeding into your own self righteous indignation by fighting strangers on the internet, it won't lie to you and tell you that you're singlehandedly making somebody across the world bulletproof or neutralizing somebody's weapon, but it is better, because it will be the truth that you need to hear, and agency over not the smallness of your limitations, but the actual span of your reach and your capability to help beyond wishing to be superhuman and hating yourself for not being that.

[theotherwesley]

I've been thinking about Spring Horror.

Autumn Horror is a given, and Summer Horror is its own genre. Winter Horror acknowledges the expected dangers of the cold and dark.

Spring Horror is a bit of a rare breed, spring being dominated by the association of new life and rebirth, but before the rebirth, there is the hungry gap, the starving time. It comes after all the provisions stocked for winter have run out, and the new growth has yet to begin. Animals are pregnant but have yet to give birth, birds are still returning, fish are half under ice. Early spring is when you find the bottom of the barrel. Winter of course will kill you in its serene way, but where the dead stay frozen in the snowy months, they must eventually be revealed by the thaw. The dead leaves from autumn are a carpet of slime yet to be reclaimed by soil; carrion that has been desiccating under the snow emerges again as husks and bones, sleeping where they last rested still wearing their skin like a loose costume; rivers unlock the sodden corpses of the unlucky, anything that had stumbled and was claimed by frozen currents under the ice. The spring ice will claim even more victims as it thaws, when the solid sheets across lakes are no longer trustworthy, and the rivers burst with snow melt. In the spring, water is at its most treacherous; things that were missing return changed. Whatever was hidden, floats up.

Snow becomes rain, icy ground becomes mud, old vegetation becomes mold, cold becomes wet; clothes that kept you warm in winter may be less suited to keeping you dry, and the firewood is damp. As the sun gradually returns, staying in the sky longer but with no more heat than in December, the first things to grow are mildew and fungus; the first flourishing crop of the year is spores, the second is illness. Whatever solidarity or peaceful isolation came from the necessity of sheltering through the winter is less pleasant when fasting becomes a regularity. The outdoors remains hostile, but the home is where madness and melancholy have been fermenting through the longest nights. By spring, habits may have become obsessions, and any small repeated annoyances will have long since grown intolerable. What has grown tight must snap.

Spring will always bear an association with birth and rebirth; it goes without saying that birth can be a source of horror, and before there can be rebirth there must first be a confrontation with rot. Spring Horror is about gnawing the bones that winter left, scouring the empty cellar to find the last shriveled apple; it's finding the corpses you buried staring you in the face, your bloated crimes rising to the top of the old well; it's about watching the world digest the dead; its about planting sins and picking the flowers that come up wrong.

[isolarya]

what if I took the name flower court literally

watch me make yet another fantasy au- (disclaimer: I know very little/nothing about politics)

so of course, you have the court itself, boring, not relevant at all.

and then you have the four lords of the court. scott smajor, the lord of winter. jimmy solidarity, the lord of spring. tango tek, the lord of summer. martyn littlewood, the lord of autumn.

together, these four lords rule the flower court, making it the most powerful in the world. that is, if only they could work together.

but as flower is exchanged with flower, love seeps into the air, and maybe, just maybe, the flower court will be united after all.

[strawberryspence]

i am in a very emo mood right now so here’s a disclaimer: i cried writing this and its very long.

Steve and Eddie have been together for seventeen years now. Both are very happy with their relationship, they’ve been engaged since they were twenty three and they haven’t looked back since. Gay marriage is legal by then in some parts of the country but not in Illinois (They’ve been living in Chicago since ‘87 when Robin started college and Steve packed up all of their stuff to follow her.) It’s not something they actively seek out, because would marriage really change anything in their relationship? They already refer to each other as husbands and they already wear wedding bands.

But kids. God, Eddie never really thought he would want kids. He grew up in an abusive environment that made him hate the prospect of procreating. At the age of thirteen, he realized he was gay and yeah, that was it, he won’t have kids, ever. But when he met Steve, Steve already had seven kids under his arms. Everyone knew about the six nuggets dreams and it’s always been a source of insecurity from Eddie, but Steve has been adamant that he didn’t need those things, he only needed Eddie. He jokes around about it, “I already have seven kids, okay? Eight if you add Robin.”

‘99 brings the first member of the Party 2.0. It’s Max and Lucas, of course, and though it was a long road to it, they made it. Max and Lucas are the two that moved out to California for college, but then moved back to Chicago to stay close to them. Eddie thinks it’s an unspoken agreement between Steve and Max, siblings bonded by trauma and love. They got married around ‘95, just a few months after Max and Lucas graduated college. Four years later, Eddie won’t ever forget Steve’s shaking hands when Max hands him Eleanor May Sinclair for the first time, her little tiny hands holding onto his finger as Lucas tells him that he was going to be the godfather. Steve smiles down at the tiny little red head, with her father’s eyes and her mother’s freckles and promises, “I am going to spoil you rotten, you’re going to hate it.”

‘01 brings the second member of the Party 2.0. It’s Jonathan and Nancy, who didn’t get married until around ‘98 because they were both too focused in their blooming careers. By then everyone had bets on how much longer before the two finally give in and get married, Argyle wins the biggest money and they still think there has been some kind of cheating. It’s a cold winter night when Nancy goes into labor. Steve and Eddie (with Robin, Max, Lucas and Ellie) takes the next flight to New York from the moment Jonathan called them that Nancy’s going into labor. Robin’s hailed as the godmother, because the skittle six all stayed close friends but there has always been some kind of women solidarity between Nancy and Robin. Eddie has to hold Steve’s hand when he starts crying when Nancy tells them her name, Barbara Arya Wheeler-Hopper. Nancy smiles at him, eyes glassy from exhaustion and emotions, as Steve holds her for the first time, voice shaking as he finally meets her, “Hi Barb.”

In the same year, the third member of the Party 2.0 is born. It’s Dustin and Suzie. That one was a looong story. After the Vecna fiasco of Spring and Fall of ‘86 (where they finally killed Vecna and closed the Upside Down for good), Suzie and Dustin broke up due to some miscommunications and because her father has been much more stricter after the Cali gang's visit. By chance, they meet again in MIT in ‘89 and remained friends for another two years (In Steve and Eddie’s dismay this led to long hours of telephone calls from Dustin pining over his ex-girlfriend-now-turned-bestfriend) before they finally got their act together when Dustin drunkenly proposes to Suzie (they don’t get married until ‘96). Steve and Eddie has come down to California about a week before Suzie’s expected labor day for moral support and just to help. Suzie goes into labor in a grocery store with Steve, while they were out buying peppers to induce labor. Steve has to drive them frantically to the hospital while a chill Suzie drinks her strawberry milkshake in the passenger seat. After 36 hours of labor, Edward Stephen Henderson was born. Eddie’s the one who cries more when Dustin announces the name, he’s also the first one in the party to hold the newborn. Eddie smiles down at Edward, laughing as he looks up at Steve, “I will do everything in my power so that you won’t end up with your father’s ego.” Cue Dustin’s protests in the back and Suzie laughing so hard she pops a stitch. Steve’s hand on his waist doesn’t leave even for a moment the whole night.

By ‘02 Max is pregnant again, Robin and Vickie’s adoption papers were processing and El’s been looking into Artificial Insemination. Will and Mike are the only two who doesn’t seem interested in having kids and are happy to just be the gay uncles that shower the kids with expensive ass gifts.

Steve’s hiding it well, Eddie will give that to him. Steve’s always been good with kids, always had that glow whenever he's around them and there is no doubt in Eddie's mind that his husband will be a wonderful, amazing father. It also helps mask the baby fever he’s had for about four years now since Ellie was born. Eddie doesn’t miss the melancholic looks he gets when it's time for Max to take Ellie home or the look he gets when they visit Barb and they have to say goodbye to her big brown eyes. Eddie knows his husband has wanted kids for as long as the’ve been together, but doesn’t say anything for his sake. So he takes a long look at his life. Does he want kids? Does he want to come home with kids in the house? Could he ever be even a sliver of the father that Steve was born to be? Would he be anything like his biological father?

He calls Wayne, talks to him for hours about every fear and doubt he has. He loves Steve so much and it hurts him to not be able to give this to him just because he’s being a coward again. Wayne soothes every shaking nerve in his body, and Eddie thinks, he’ll be fine. He’ll be fine because he wasn’t raised by John Munson, he was raised by Wayne Munson.

He’s done so much research about gay adoption that he has to hide the thick folder under a loose floor in their shared office, just so Steve can’t find it. He wants to be ready for this before he talks to Steve about it and by Christmas ‘02, he’s ready.

Its the quiet lull just before Christmas. The tree is decked out with numerous gifts, the house full of fairy lights (fairy lights they made sure would never blink), outside it just started snowing. In 24 hours, the house would be full with their family coming from different states to celebrate the holiday with them. Steve's wrapping the last few gifts, hot choco on his side when Eddie sits across him on the floor, handing him the thick folder.

Steve opens the folder with a bewildered look, his face shifting to shock in seconds. Steve looks up at Eddie with teary eyes, "Before you say that you don't need kids because I don't want kids, hear me out, okay?" Eddie reaches out for his hand, "I do want kids. I want kids with you. I've had kids with you since '86 when Dustin and Max decided to look for me. I've always wanted kids with you. I was... I was just scared that I'd end up like my dad, you know?" Steve sighs, hand tightening in his grasp, "Eds."

Eddie shakes his head, "Wait, I am not done. I talked to Wayne, you know? And I thought about it and I want kids with you, Steve Harrington. In any shape or form. If you don't want it right now, we can put a pin on it and if you tell me you never want it, then we forget this conversation ever happened. We could adopt, we could get a surrogate, hell, if I can get pregnant I will do it, sweetheart. I want a kid that's half you and half me and that might not ever be possible but we can raise and love a kid together and that'll be just as good." Steve's smiling now, tears still flowing from his face as Eddie cups his face, using his thumbs to swipe away the tears.

"So what do you want, baby?" Eddie smiles as Steve starts laughs, nodding. "Yeah, yeah, I want a kid with you. Fucking hell, Eds." Steve hops up, tackling Eddie into a hug and showering him with kisses. They stay like that for an hour, just soaking in the pure adoration and love they feel for each other.

It's not until October '05 that their kid comes home. Elijah Syl Harrington-Munson was a 6 month old boy. Steve cries the first time he holds him as Eddie embraces him, Elijah holding his index finger in his tiny palm.

"Stevie, he has your hair." Eddie comments and there's no hint of joke or trick in his voice, just full of awe and Steve just cries even more.

When Elijah finally opens his eyes, Steve can't help the tenderness that bursts through him, "Eddie, Eds, he has your eyes."

Elijah's not a Harrington-Munson in blood, but he's Steve and Eddie's son through and through. And yeah, Elijah grows to have the same brunette wavy hair, styled just like his Dad's and the same brown doe eyes just like his Pa's. Sometimes, he sits in the living room as he reads a thick book with a basketball game playing on the background, Steve and Eddie thinks he's always meant to be theirs.

They adopt more kids. Not six because fuck no. But they do have their three nuggets, half Steve Harrington and half Eddie Munson and he won't ever have it any other way.

[lovingdabeessss]

Ever wonder about how Yang knows she's probably gonna be the next spring maiden?

I do wonder however personally I don’t think Yang ponders the possibility of her being the maiden to often

Mostly in avoidance of the very complicated emotions that would come with ravens possible death and also because she believes in ravens ability to run and hide from danger

In yangs mind almost every death she’s seen is from people refusing to run away

either sacrificing themselves or being dedicated to an insane person like Salem or being obsessive and insane (Adam)

And Raven is not this kinda person she always runs at least in yangs mind she does and this might actually bring her comfort in the sense of her not dying

That’s why if she does die it’ll be like 5x more fucked up for Yang

AND there’s a possibility that yang doesn’t believe she would be who ravens thinks of last when she dies

She might not think Raven cares for her anywhere near that much

But WE know she’s (most likely) the next spring maiden if raven dies

And that’s something I LOVE to think about

Like my little brain came up with an au a while back where I was thinking about what if post Yang telling everyone Raven is the maiden they go on a little family trip together Raven and Yang and raven dies and Yang comes back and just says she left

In the sense of wanting to wait a little till she has to come to terms with her mom dying like maybe she says she’s “gone” and everyone assumes left and that’s why she’s upset and she can’t bring herself to correct them

And also what if they decide that to counter whatever cinders doing with trying to get all maiden powers they need to do that and winter needs to take all of that power

And it’s a really hard talk about how winter would need to kill yangs birth mother which would be a super terrible thing to try and reason to Yang but they’d have to (plus most people in that group hate ravens it’s just for yangs sake they really feel bad like Weiss hates her for bad parent solidarity and Blake loves her girlfriend and ruby loves her sister)

Not knowing that they’re actually talking about Yang who’s now the spring maiden

Like wouldn’t that be messed up?

Anyway yeah ignore my random stupid au thanks for the ask sorry for taking forever school is hard

[houndofchivalry]

I'm going to acknowledge up front that this poem is very bleak. because here's the thing - stuff isn't set in stone yet, we've already started to reverse some of the processes, we're finding new solutions every day, and I'm not the type that likes to dwell in negative thinking when a more positive mindset will help us grow forward instead of getting lost in the stagnancy of "what's done is done". we can do our part by getting educated, recycling, supporting our local flora and fauna, and becoming activists for our own backyards.

however, I have a really hard time with that positive outlook every February, when the flowers start blooming way too early. winter depression is never really a thing I've struggled with, but spring always hits me hard. I wrote this eight years ago, and I have thought about it every single day this month, just because it gets more potent every year. I decided I wanted to share it, if just for some solidarity to anyone else who's finding The Sadness creeping upon them as the days get prematurely warm.

[nezoriy]

"Time to plant and time to uproot," 84x52cm, acrylic on carton, 2023

I created and submitted this artwork for the open call for Ukrainian queer artists by Ljubljana Pride. This year, they're doing an exhibition themed "Queer Solidarity. Images of Resilience and Hope."

And guess what? I was selected, and this piece will be exhibited in a gallery in Ljubljana during June, and I'm actually asked to come and participate in a discussion panel with costs covered and get some extra money, so it's like dream come true?? i'm a Real Actual Artist now??? still can't believe it

this is the story of the pieces I submitted with the application:

"A year ago, in March 2022, when the ruzzian army was still standing near Kyiv, I was walking home and saw two old ladies who were planting flowers on a patch of land near our house – just as they used to do every year before that (and yes, this year they are doing it as well). I sketched it immediately because nothing spoke to me of hope and endurance more than these ladies, trying to create life and beauty when rockets were flying over our heads. Life will prevail, I wrote then.

"Time to grow."

Half a year later, after years of fear and indecisiveness, I finally started my medical transition. 

The constant risk of being killed by a random rocket made me realize that whatever I fear, whatever pain I may encounter on my way, even from the people I love, I don't want to get killed without having lived my authentic self. Fear of death finally gave me courage. The autumn and winter were dark – due to the shellings, electricity was often off, sometimes for days on end. It happened that I did my testosterone shots only with the light from my phone or a candle. Still, it filled me with joy and hope.

Time to grow as well, but also time to uproot... 

I painted it on carton because in the spring 2022 I hadn't had the ability to buy art supplies, so I used what was on hand. Two parts of this diptych are connected with the tape. One of the first things we all did when the war broke out was to tape our windows crisscrossed for the chance they would withstand the shock wave if a rocket hit close. So, just like the images themselves, this bit of tape is also all about trying to persevere."

That's the best thing that happened to me in very very long time. So idk if you happen to be in Ljubljana during June, do drop by Gallery Alkatraz 

[llithiumstars]

I'm putting this under the cut. Bnha Yogs (+hermit) au brainrot. I don't really have scenes or anything, just quirk ideas!

Class One (First Years):

Teacher: Lying (Kitsune)

Xephos, Cloning (Creates a weak copy with a DNA sample. Copy can use quirk) Lalna, Electrical (Power grid. Can channel electricity and take control of devices) Zoeya, Chimera. Spores + Fire  (Uses them surprisingly well together) Nano, Flux (Stretchy and strong body extension, hallucinogenic if used right) Rythian, Warp. Later Dragon (Can teleport, and later has dragonbreath) Benji, Train (has wheels in his feet. Eats coal. Will set you on fire) Ravs, Strength (He’s like that one pokemon always carrying the wooden timber) Strife, Atomic Disassembly (breaks stuff down to its bare components. Not living things. yet) Parvis, Blood (Manipulates his own and others with touch.)

Jimmy Solidarity, Canary (Able to play possum from a serious injury once per day) Gem, Deer (like a spring fairy. Creates flower petals. Looks like a deer) Joel (something cyberpunk maybe? Or something empires. Not sure yet) Lizzie, Ocean Queen (big fish lady)

Class Two (First Years):

Teacher: Cleo (Zombie)

Trott, Walrus (Walrus) Smiffy, Slime (Body can turn into slime. Can squeeze through anything as long as his bones can fit) Ross, Werewolf (Werewolf) Briony, Bunny (Rabbit features. Strong kicks + good hearing. Can communicate with small animals) Kirsty, (Unsure! Dog? Pikachu? Funky little fella)

Numerous other hermits

Class One (Second Years):

Teacher: Kirin (Storm Sage)

Lomadia, Harpy (Harpy. Also some electrical capabilities. Lalna/Lom siblings forever) Nilesy, Water Manipulation (Pool Boy) Sips, Earth Manipulation (Dirt) Honeydew, Earth Manipulation (Yes, they have a rivalry) Martyn, Seasonal (Plant powers in spring/summer, Ice in autumn/winter) RT, Drift King (I dont have an actual idea but you KNOW thats his hero name) Rendog, Dog (Dog)

Villains:

Queen, Dragon (Big tall sezy lady who can turn into a dragon.) (Also a Top Hero) Mother, Flux (Can turn to goo) Strawfingers, Scarecrow (Scarecrow) Israphel, Sands (Turns anything he touches to sand. Living things included.) Lalnable, Transfer (Can change the dna in other people) Echo, Angel (Gold wings, + Flux)

[seaside-writings]

Hi there, all you holly jolly people! I’m back with another prompt list for my “12 Days of Prompts.”

This prompt list is dedicated to Winter flowers of all kinds and their meanings.

The language of flowers is one of my favorite things to learn about so I had a lot of fun looking these up and seeing what they meant.

Like always if you do use these prompts please tag me so I can see what you’ve made!

I hope you all stay blessed and safe throughout your day.

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays: Celia ❤💚❄⛄🎄

🌹 Holly: Peace. Goodwill, Fertility, Eternal Life

🌹 Poinsettia: Purity, Goodwill, Community Spirit

🌹 Christmas Rose: Faith, Love, Devotion

🌹 Snowdrop: Hope, Innocence, Vulnerability

🌹 Camellia: Love, Affection, Admiration

🌹 Winter Jasmine: Elegance, Grace

🌹 Primrose: New Beginnings, Hope, Transformation

🌹 Witch Hazel: Protection, Healing

🌹 Helleborus: Serenity, Peace, Tranquillity

🌹 Daffodils: Rebirth, Joy, Good Luck

🌹 Calendulas: Joy, Remembrance, Grief

🌹 Winter Aconite: Hope, New Beginnings

🌹 Crocus: Glee, Youthfulness, Mirth

🌹 Japanese Pieris: Love At First Sight, Happiness

🌹 Daphne: Immortality. Honesty, Sweetness

🌹 Mahonia: Protection, Positivity

🌹 Cyclamen: Maternal Love, Tenderness, Farewell

🌹 Pussy Willow: Wealth, Growth

🌹 Pansies: Thoughtfulness, Nostalgia, Freedom

🌹 Iris: Wisdom, Trust, Valour

🌹 Amaryllis: Pride, Strength, Determination

🌹 Viola: Decency, Modesty

🌹 Winter Heath: Independence, Sorrow, Protection, Solidarity

🌹 Red Twig Dogwood: Resurrection, Rebirth, Strength

🌹 Scilla: Vitality, Constancy, Loyalty

🌹 Ornamental Flowering Kale & Cabbage: Love, Good Health

🌹 Bleeding Hearts: Love, Want, Desire

🌹 Spring Snowflakes: Memories of Youth, Growth, Change

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Pt 147- Moonlight and Memories

Summary: ALL THRANDUIL CHAPTER! Thranduil heads to Moonlight and gets more than he bargained for.

*Warnings* language, angst, sexual content, self pleasure

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Thranduil made his way in solidarity through the forest realm of Imladris with his twin swords and a bag of other necessities, mostly wine, with a single destination in sight...his special secret place he called Moonlight. The place he always came to when he visited Rivendell for nothing but pure leisure and meditation of sorts. No one alive knew of it except him...and of course you, but he blocked that all out of his mind as he made his way to the banks of the crystal blue healing waters it held.

It didn't matter the season which was winter, for it was a place of magic, just like spring all year round. The water was a perfect temperature in which Thranduil loved to swim in nothing but the pale skin on his bones and this was just what he needed to perfectly heal his side wound from Harker's arrow after his white hart projection.

The King planned to stay there all day and into the night to lay naked under the stars and soak in the Moonlight, hence the name he gave to his safe haven, for strangely, like the weather, the moon was bright and full all year round in that spot. He had named it after his mother's moonstone, for when he was a young elf, the moon reminded him of her runestone and it was full of magic just the same. A place where wishes came true....and one wish he had in that moment was to steer clear of Elrond's mind torture, for that's exactly what it was to him...and to indulge in more wine to try and wash away his old friend's words.

Thranduil unraveled a blanket from the bag and spread it about the lime green grass in the same spot he always placed it at. As he went to remove his robe, it suddenly struck him that it was also the spot you and he had made love. He scoffed and swiftly wadded up the blanket, moving it to another spot.

Once he was satisfied with it's placement, he began to disrobe and then sat down on his bare bottom. pouring his wine and soaking in the high noon sun.

All was peaceful with the sound of the rushing waterfall delving into the azure colored water and birds singing the songs of their people from high above in their tree mansions. If only Thranduil's mind were at peace....and his cock too, for he then realized it was speaking to him after his memory of making love to you.

He drank down a few glasses of his favorite vintage and decided it was time for the bath he had held out on since his arrival earlier that morning in Rivendell. Up the rocks he climbed to the top of the waterfall and stood on the edge in all of his beautiful glory, gazing down at the inviting blue lagoon. He decided he better dive in now before his cock became any harder or it was not going to be a pleasant entrance upon impact.

The way the sun shone over his skin and his long platinum strands flowing in the breeze, the Elvenking appeared to be that of a swan as he extended his arms out like they were wings. He then brought them forward and bent his knees and sprung gracefully into the air with his body in a perfectly arched form, gliding with ease like a bird into healing liquid below, becoming one with it.

It was a perfect union, the warm sparkling liquid caressing every inch of Thranduil's body while his moonlike eyes were wide and wandering about the underworld's ocean like view as he drifted through a rainbow assortment of fish. It all made him miss the place he called home, Mirkwood. His gardens and endless lilac orchards, the sky blue waters of the Forest River and the ocean...his loyal companion Moose, whom he slightly chuckled about, knowing he was giving his guard a hard time. But he also felt sad, for he knew that his beloved elk was also grieving him, and he would be the one he would apologize to, not you, he told himself as he scoffed at Elrond's foresight.

As he made his way back to the surface, he heard movement, a thrashing about. Turning to see what it was, his eyes sprung wide open to see you, fighting the water and gurgling out his name. It all flooded back to him so vividly, the day you fell into the black waters of the dark forest which only happened because of the first fight he and you had that caused you to flee his halls. A fight that stemmed over Morwen invading his mind during your first kiss, causing him to push you away.

It was the day he also first admitted his love for you to Legolas just before they both raced against time to find you, and when they did, you were being pulled under the evil water by Morwen.

In that moment, Thranduil remembered plunging into the water, not caring of the poison it would inflict upon him. He had carried your limp body to shore and laid you down, placing his hands on you and drawing your poison out into him with his magic as Legolas helplessly watched.

He then heard Elrond's words echo through the water..."Do you not wonder how you have come to despise the woman you once would die for?"

"NO!" Thranduil's shout bubbled out as he then realize how deep he had swam into the caverns below. He grabbed your arm and drug you along as he kicked and slayed through the water with his other arm to the blue beaming light above.

As Thranduil broke through the surface with a heavy gasp for air, he turned to find his arms were empty. His heart palpitated as he panicked and dove back under in a desperate search for you, for you had felt so real in his grasp. Thranduil floated motionless inside the cove as his hair fanned out all around him, his enlarged eyes darting about the limpid water with no trace of you in sight. He then realized you weren't real, that his mind, once again had deceived him.

The Elvenking rushed out of the water onto the sandy shore in a fury, pissed off that he had no control over what just happened to him and even more pissed off at the healing waters betrayal. But it wasn't a betrayal. The elven waters spoke of truth and did exactly what they were intended to do, heal.... and Thranduil knew the risks before he ever even first stepped foot in them as a young elf millenniums ago.

He certainly didn't expect that though, for he had never experienced such lucid visions. The only time he recalled enduring anything similar to that was when he was inebriated and you were miles away, in Rivendell, reading his journal that consisted solely of his memories of you and his most personal feelings that he remembered every word of.

Thranduil sat on the blanket, his hair slicked back and shimmering in the sunlight as he drank more wine, remembering that time and what had led up to it. He had arrived in Rivendell for Arwen and Aragorn's nuptials and had brought his journal with him in which he had planned to give to you in hopes that it would repair the damage Malsha had done in Lake Town with her lie, but then he had learned of you being with Haldir...all because of that lie. She had planned an attack on Rivendell that day in which she lost and Thranduil had went after her on his own at full force due to his anger and broken heart. Due to him not being in his right mind, she had almost killed him but you had found him and saved him by killing her first. Thranduil had then left you in Rivendell, for he could not get past what you had done, even with knowing it never would have happened if not for Malsha's trickery. After Thranduil had departed, Elrond had given you the King's journal, in which only you could open...and you did, and as you read it, the memories had came to life in visions before Thranduil's eyes.

Just before you had showed up at Thranduil's halls for Legolas's wedding, he had wandered out into the forest behind the guest hall and visions of you in your wedding dress appeared to him in flashes, so real, he swore you were right there, but every time he had tried to touch you, you would disappear. Until the one time he touched you and could feel you, but you didn't vanish that time and then you spoke his name, startling him into stumbling backwards and landing on his backside.

Thranduil allowed the involuntary smile that formed on his lips, recalling how foolish he felt for you to see him in such a way. You had knelt beside him and stroked his cheek with the back of your hand just like he would always do to you, and then you helped him to his feet. A kiss had almost been shared in his happiness of seeing you, but the wedding bells sounded from the hall, interrupting the intense moment. The memory had been so vivid, he could almost smell your cherry scented breath as he softly inhaled the similar scent from his sweet red wine.

He then recalled walking hand in hand with you to the hall and remaining that way as you stood at each other's sides during Legolas's and Tauriel's vows. He also recalled hearing your thoughts of wishing he would kiss you and the look in your eyes of realizing he had heard you when he peered down at you with a grin.

That same grin now appeared on Thranduil's lips once more as he drank down his wine. The memory continued onto the beach for the after party, your angelic singing echoed through his mind as he saw you sitting by the fire..."wild horses, couldn't drag me away...."

Thranduil closed his eyes as he saw his hand reach out to you. You took it and he led you away from the crowd to dance with you. He could feel your face resting on his chest just under his shoulder as he watched you both slowly turn about under the magical moonlight....and then you began to sing as you held him tight.

"Friday night and the lights are low. Looking out for a place to go. Where they play the right music. Getting in the swing. You come to look for a king...."

You had stopped and peered up into his eyes as yours glimmered with tears. Thranduil stroked the back of his hand down your cheek and then he gave you your wish, kissing you so tenderly.

Thranduil's eyes flung open as he lightly gasped and touched his lips, for he had felt the kiss, so soft and sweet. His heart was defeating the Elvenking's mind in that moment as his memory carried on, leading you from the party and down the beach, walking hand in hand where he had laid his robe out on the sand and then made mad passionate love to you under the stars.

A soft moan escaped his lips as he could literally feel the warmth of your walls as he fucked you hard and deep, and that's not all he could feel. His eyes opened and darted down to his throbbing cock as it stared straight up at him. He may have been able to control his mind when he wanted to, which in that moment, he chose not to, but when it came to his devious and defiant member, it had a mind of it's own.

It was an ache like no other, not of pain, but of the deepest yearning to feel you again and not just your body, but your soul....and your mind.

He knew Elrond was right once more as more words of his recited in his mind.

"It is because I know you that I point out what your soul speaks but your mind refuses to believe."

His mind was believing it as it, his body and soul craved yours but the brainwashed Elvenking wasn't about to allow it.

The Elvenking stood up in a huff and grunted as he massaged his raging cock, then headed back into the water to put it out of it's misery and end the nonsense. Since he was unable to control his mischievous manhood , he certainly wasn't going to allow you to control of it...or so he thought.

As he waded through the balmy waters, trying to will his full attention cock to stand down and hoping the healing liquid would put it at ease, he was blindsided by another memory as he neared the rock he made love to you against. All he could do was just stare down at it, seeing your perfect bare form laying against it.

And then his attention was pulled to the area behind it, where he had caught you hiding from him and Joliel, the deceitful and now deceased red haired elf of Loren that had followed him there one night, stupidly thinking she would have the King who had no memory of you whatsoever at the time, Of course he turned her away, and in a rage too, for he was extremely angry that she had came to his special place without an invitation, not to mention he wanted nothing to do with her like he had long before he ever met you....or like he had in Rivendell for a mere five seconds just to hurt you because of the cursing black magic he was under.

Thranduil recalled ordering you to come out once she left, for he knew you were there after he spied your dress in the tall grass. You had come out, trembling and covering yourself with your arms, slowly making your way to him and when you had gotten close enough, he had decided to toy with you. He told you to lower your arms and then touch him, so you hesitantly uncrossed your arms and slowly moved your hand up to his face. Thranduil slapped his hand around your wrist, stopping you and barked, "not there, here" as he glanced down at his aroused cock.

Thranduil's cock twitched, snapping him out of the memory and making him realize the water was not helping. Instead it was only intensifying his need for release. There was only one way to end his suffering and that was to give in and pleasure himself.

He turned back to the embankment and saw you again, smiling at him as you rubbed water over your breasts in a very seductive fashion, then you curled your forefinger and cutely motioned him to come to you. Thranduil could not contain his smile or bridle his lust as he immediately moved to you, but your vision vanished and so did his smile.

Thranduil placed his forearm on the rock, then rested his forehead upon his fisted hand as he closed his eyes and deeply sighed. He couldn't take the mind fucking anymore, so he wrapped his hand around his solid girth and began pumping his hips, slow but hard, leaving his grip loose enough to slide in and out, but tight enough to imagine being inside of you. His grunts were bursting out of his open mouth with each thrust as his forehead dug into his arm. Hard whispers of your name also snuck out of his mouth as he sped up, causing the water to slosh about him. His groans and moans became stronger, louder, as his core tightened and tingled, nearing his release. He stood straight up and arched his head back as he vigorously stroked himself into climax. A word he never spoke surged out of his mouth as his essence repeatably jetted onto the rock.

"Fuuuuuucckkkkk!"

Thranduil panted heavily in immense relief and his lips curled into an extremely grateful grin as he extracted the last of his warm fluid out of his now rosy colored cock.

He was drunk on happiness as he exited the water and completely befuddled that you had the power to make him speak such language. The Elvenking voiced his opinion in his mind, calling you an evil enchantress, but Thranduil blocked him out as he remembered the one and only other time he dropped the F-bomb.

It was part of yours and his conversation when you found him in the forest a bit tipsy just before Legolas's wedding as you both headed to the hall. You had been worried that Thranduil would be upset that you came, and more so that Tauriel had asked you to stand with her. You didn't want to make him uncomfortable because you knew how important the day was for him. Thranduil assured you that he was enamored with your arrival and had said "Of course it is fine. Besides, I have already fucked this day up."

What he meant by that was that he felt certain Legolas was going to be angry with him for his heavy drinking before the ceremony, in which he was. He then recalled apologizing for speaking in such a way and remembered your response, verbatim.

“Hey.” you said sweetly and touched his arm. “You’re allowed to be angry, you’re allowed to feel what you feel. You’re allowed to swear if you feel like it.” you chuckled and grinned at him. “Cuz fuck it.”

Thranduil had laughed quite hard, then lowered and shook his head with a grin as he whispered "Cuz fuck it."

You giggled and then you both continued walking.

Thranduil wrapped a cloth around his waist and sat down on the blanket to indulge in some more wine. He took a sip and then chuckled as he shook his head.

"Cuz fuck it." he muttered, and knocked the drink back.

He laid down and sprawled out under the radiant sun and slowly drifted off to sleep, finally feeling content for once. Even in his dreams, he could not escape you.

Thranduil saw himself at his son's wedding and heard every word he spoke as he stood before Legolas and Tauriel with you watching him in awe.

“Love is something that should never be taken for granted, never ignored, never judged, never mistreated or taken advantage of. Most importantly, never foolishly let go of. For love is a gift to be appreciated, watered like a flower. It should be unconditional, respected and unselfish. Two souls joining as one with a heart that eternally beats only for the other. Twin flames I like to call it. A love so rare as Legolas and Tauriel share is the love that I speak of. A love that I also know. What is joined here today, let no force separate, not even death. For love is eternal.”

And then he saw visons of you in the forest, singing and wearing a wedding dress, just like had seen prior to the matrimony...only this time, he saw an older Leeanduil asleep in your arms as you caressed her hair. You wore a glowing moonstone ring much like his, only smaller...a ring that you did not have. He had never seen a more beautiful sight.

Thranduil was awakened to the illuminating moon shining down upon him and his ring glowing back at it. The sound of a crow cawing above in the trees echoed through the air. He sat up, somewhat shocked he had slept that long, but it was understandable after all he had been through.

He pulled out some Lembas from the bag and broke off a chunk, then poured some more wine to wash it down with. As he sat and gazed up at the moon and the stars, he remembered the dream and wondered how he could see his daughter at a future age when he had never even seen her at all. How he so longed to be with her and hold her in his arms. He also wondered what the dream of you meant, if anything at all. Everything he was feeling, would he feel it when he left Moonlight?

"Caw. Caw!!!!" the crow sounded again, only louder.

Thranduil looked up as he recognized the bird's tone. It was your crow, the same one who had brought him his ring. He stood up to try and locate him, and then as soon as his pale blue eyes met those of the feathered flier, he flew from his perch on the tree branch and headed towards the King...and he was holding something white in his talons.

As he flew over Thranduil, he dropped the unknown item and it fluttered down to him. He reached up and caught it, realizing then that it was a letter and it smelled of you. As he turned it over, he saw his name written on it.

"Where did you find this?" Thranduil asked as the bird circled above, cawing away. He stretched his arm out in an offer for the crow to land and speak to him, for Thranduil was able to understand his thoughts just as he could any animal.

The black bird landed on Thranduil's hand and offered his usual bow to greet the King of Mirkwood.

The crow then tilted his head to look the King in the eyes so he could read his thoughts.

"You...took this from Josephine's room in Dorwinion? Does she know? Does she know I am alive?" Thranduil asked without even realizing he spoke your name for the first time, aside from his earlier episode in the water.

"Caw." once for yes, then a pause. "Caw Caw." twice for no.

"I am quite curious corch (crow), how is it that you managed to gain access to her room?"

Thranduil gazed into the bird's eye and it was revealed that the balcony doors had been left open on a nice day while you were not there and he knew where you kept it, under your pillow.

Thranduil gasped as he remembered his letter. "I take it you were unsuccessful in delivering my letter to her since she is not aware of me?"

The crow then told him what happened and that he did not know what happened to the letter.

"Contemptible cretins. They should all be stoned."

The crow cawed away as if he were laughing then informed Thranduil that the guards were, by Narcisse's orders.

"Is that so? Lord Narcisse has actually done something commendable. Shocking. Tell me corch mellon (crow friend), is Josephine doing well?"

"Caw. Caw." twice for no, then he relayed that you were very sad and that you cried a lot.

Thranduil felt a twitch, but this time, it was not in his lower region, but in his heart.

"I offer you my gratitude for conveying the letter and information. I ask that you do not speak of me to her."

Thranduil was well aware of his compromised state of mind and felt it best if you did not know about him. For the time being, he was thinking clearly and rationally, but he didn't know how long that would last.

A single caw for yes and a bow was given to the King. Thranduil reached in his bag and handed the rest of his lembas to the anxious bird, in which he swiftly took it into his beak and flew off into the night sky.

Thranduil sat back down and fondled the letter, feeling reluctant to open it, for he did not know how it was going to affect him. After a few minutes of staring at it, he opened it, revealing a lengthy letter with what appeared to be tear stains in various places of the ink.

"My Dearest King,

I miss you in ways I didn't know existed. You are a mental and physical ache, a longing woven deep into my dna and I don't know how to live like this. I feel like the wolf who howls at the moon, for I feel he is in love with it and cries for that love he will never touch. I haven't felt safe since I was pushed from the safety of your arms. One minute, all was right in the world and in an instant, I was trying to hold my own heart as it crumbled. As I sit and stare at this empty room, it takes everything in me not to cry from the hurt that washes over me. Where there was once words and immense love, all I have now is emptiness and sorrow. I often think about where it all went wrong because I loved...love you more than I have ever loved anyone, but as the song says, sometimes love is not enough. If it were, my love would bring you back. My mind is always drifting off to countless thoughts and memories of you as tears stream from my eyes. You are the love of a lifetime that slipped right through my fingers even as I clawed and fought to keep you alive. I wish I had answers and to know what you're thinking at this very moment...if you can even think anything at all now, but I will never know. Now I must live the rest of my life never understanding why you were taken from me when we were so close to a beautiful forever. Maybe I'll find you again someday in another life, because I have always known we were together in times before...but that solace does me little good as my heart slowly breaks with the pain of a thousand lifetimes. To hear your voice once more, to see your smile again, just to feel the emotions of our love wash over me as you call me your sweet girl, these are only some of the many things I dream of. I must be strong now and try to smile for our sweet daughter that we created out of the rarest and purest love, and try to look for the light in a new day. I miss you. I miss us. But now all I have are whispers of your voice in my heart and my love for you that will never fade. That will have to be enough. True love never dies and that will be my hope for all my tomorrows without you, until I see your beautiful face once again. I will love you until my last breath and then I will find you and I will love you more.

More than nin own cuil, ( more than my own life)

Your Queen,

Josephine."

Thranduil found his eyes stinging as they welled up with tears and he recalled the words of his own letter, realizing both were written around the same time. If you had just received his letter, he knew you would have came for him long ago and he never would have ended up the way he now was. If he could remain himself when he left Moonlight, he knew he would want to return to you but...he knew he could not, for more than one reason. Most importantly, for what he has done with Raven and secondly, he knew he could turn on you again in the blink of an eye, for even there in Moonlight, the Elvenking had fought him and he knew soon enough, he would rise again.....

@redeemer46

[sizzleissues]

we need more pretty ways to describe eyes and I’m not talking your basic blue eyes with no flavour

‘Oh it’s like the ocean’ stfu.

We need people to wax poetry about new colours with new words.

Compare hazel green eyes to a trek around the edge of a swamp, the dusting of reeds on your bare knees, flecks of mud on your toes. There’s the faint sound of birds twittering for their families to return home. A rustle of wind, a squelch of mud. In them you find quiet, stillness, beauty. A natural reserve of all that came before and all that will come.

Compare brown eyes to a garden on a hill. The soil is freshly turned, you can see in each fleck. Yet still something gold remains, a solidarity flower battling through a tough winter and rewarded with fresh spring. There’s the taste of earth in your mouth, Mother Nature extending her hand to this tiny patch to bless them with light. You stand at a garden on a hill and you know home is not far.

I could go on but alas it is late. Please write your own, so I may read them in the morning!

[ace-and-ink]

it stains my lips

the sticky cherry colored

snow cone flavoring

on an afternoon something like

spring or summer

they blended into each other back then down there

constantly stepping back and forth

between the two

while i stand in a field so unkempt the grass is almost really blades

worse cut into the flesh of a man from a book

a personified martyr

hanging in replica in every hallway just

inside

i felt shaky under his eyes

even more so under his followers’

it’s his blood we drink for penance for things

that happened to us

in the glass reflection

my face all twisted and warped

it comes up and out and spills over my chin

it comes with a coughing fit

the dark red

shade of wine that i could never keep down

drowning in my sweet spit and a sea of laughter

thrown against the rocks like hands slapping my back in solidarity

she used to say that she didn’t enjoy throwing up

just the feeling of it

watching her stand there

off in her own little world that i barely

sit on the edge of

i wonder if she feels the same about this

or if the vice is only mine

no wine whiter than my knuckles

around this plastic glass i fear will shatter

will ever make this feel any better

i whipped my head around too fast

so i ended up staining my sleep shirt

the jet ichor reeking

of the inkwell it was sealed in all season

coating my hands darker than the sky outside

because the sun’s coming up again to scold me

like i like turning the gears all night

but the sunlight doesn’t get me right

and my ceiling fan light

has already seen the worst of me

years of nocturnal tears leave

indents on my cheeks

and stains on my brain

a circadian usurpation would be a winter hell

but it might save me by summer

i can’t let it touch the counter

if it keeps dripping like this

the puddle it leaves will stain the clean white stone

and he can’t know

no he can’t know that i

chipped the shitty mug stored in the back of the cabinet

just so he wouldn’t notice a good one out of place

and now there’s tea all over the place

except in my mouth

though i can feel my tongue throbbing but i can’t feel my tongue

not even pressed against the chewing scar

in my cheek

and i can’t let it scream because i don’t

know what he’ll say and i don’t

want to know but i know

it’ll be loud

bathroom mirror

me and me

one hand gripping the counter

knuckles as flushed as the deer-eaten flowers out front

dark red crust stuck underneath the other’s nails

tearing away the remnants of last night

to start the ritual anew tonight

if he sees the stains in the sink

i’ll say it was from shaving the chin hairs he hates so much

but like the dots and dashes

of the bruises and scars on my knees

i adore the scarlet stream

tasting that echo that haunts hospitals

and watching it

drip

drip

drip

from my nose to the drain

i know there are healthier ways to feel

but how could i fix this?

i just love a good nosebleed

— nosebleeds as a metaphor for something greater (supposedly)

[godborn]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐘 .

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒  ―  think  carefully  about  your  character   &   their  development  through  their  journey   (  canon  or  oc  )   within  their  story .   fill  out  the  chart    &   tag  whoever  you  want  !! 

𝐃𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐘  𝐎𝐅  ―  (   sun   )   light ,   nature ,   spring ,   wildlife ,   truth   /   prophecy ,   healing ,   archery ,   poetry ,   music .   

𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃  𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇  ―  breathtaking beauty ,   sunrises   &   sunsets ,   golden light between the clouds ,   duality ,   the heat of determination ,   nature as cruel but beautiful ,   reverence for life ,   the hope of an oncoming spring ,   resilience   (   like the flowers that bloom after the barren winter   ) ,   the drive to always improve   /   become stronger ,   found family   /   familial loyalty ,   the healing power of art   (   including music   &   poetry   ) ,   the gracious son of a tyrant ,   triumph over tyranny ,   the burden of a heavy crown ,   the young prodigy ,   honor of the fallen ,   oneness with the natural world ,   an unquenchable thirst for unconditional love .

𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃  𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒  ―  bay laurel   (  victory ,   glory ,   achievement ,   resilience   ) ,   cherry blossom   (   the beauty of life’s brevity ,   beauty as violence ,   new beginnings   ) ,   sunflower   (   sunlight ,   healing ,   loyalty ,   optimism   /   determination   ) ,   fern   (   eternal youth ,   hope ,   truth   ) .

𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃  𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒  /  𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐒  ―  opal   (   otherworldliness ,   prophecy ,   healing ,   hope   ) ,   amber   (   wisdom ,   courage ,   good fortune   ) ,   diamond   (   resilience ,   beauty ,   brilliance   ) ,   alexandrite   (   duality ,   adaptability ,   balance between physical   &   spiritual worlds   ) .

𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃  𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐒  ―  ladybug   (   new beginnings   ) ,   frog   (   rebirth   ) ,   butterfly   (   metamorphosis   ) ,   swan   (   wisdom   ) ,   snake   (   immortality   /   vengeance   ) .

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒  ―  gold ,   blush pink ,    royal blue ,   aquamarine .   

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃  ―  freshly - picked fruits   &   berries ,   pastries ,   chocolates .

𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒  ―  soft florals   (   rose ,   lavender ,   plumeria ,   daisy ,   vanilla   ) ,   honey .   

𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃  𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒  ―   songs   /   poetry ;   paintings ,   sculptures ,   &   other artwork ;   homemade sweets ;   devotional prayers   /   mantras ;   handmade jewelry ;   personal shrines including any sacred objects .

𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒  𝐓𝐎  𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐑  ―  respect nature .   uphold promises   &   vows .   bask in the morning sun .   be kind to animals   (   including insects !!   ) .   care for plantlife .   defy tyranny .   shape your own fate .   honor the fallen .   dream .   maintain hope .   be gentle with children .   recognize that even through suffering ,   life can be beautiful .   study the classics .   stand in solidarity with the downtrodden .   uplift the most vulnerable in your community .   place flowers in your hair .   be a child of nature .   embrace your darkness ,   but do not be consumed by it .

tagged  by :  yoinked it :) tagging :   @rejectshumanity ,   @blueshiftting ,   @lovesigned   (   enya !!   ) ,   @valoroso ,   @ironleonine   (   charlie !!   ) , @noriakii ,  @romance-in-moonlight ,   &   u ,   gorgeous .

[enuode-au]

The Codlands

Represented by: Jimmie Solidarity; Ruler

Titles/names of the representative: Solidarity, the Codfather

Race of the representative: Codfolk, Oceanborne

Race of the population: Mainly Codfolk

Codfolk come from the ocean originally, but migrated out of it due to pressure from other species. They now live amphibiously, with much of their territory being on land while also being able to travel through water easily.

Population size: ~200,000

Alliances: Hoen Yssler, Ocean Empire, Mezalea, Rekhia, Losheedi

Hoen Yssler formed an alliance with the Codlands when the Life dreams affected some of the rulers, including Skott and Jimmie. Neither had any issue with it, despite rarely interacting before.

Lizzie is Jimmie’s half-sister, and because they have a good relationship with each other, they are close allies.

Since Mezalea is so closely allied with the Ocean Empire, it’s natural that the Codlands would be allied with Mezalea as well.

The Codlands are very open to trading with the citizens of Rekhia, and out of respect, Pix secured an alliance with the Codlands.

Losheedi is allied with (almost) everyone.

Political strength: #10

The Codlands, though tight-knit and growing exponentially, are still seen as weak due to their origin. The Codfolk had migrated out of the ocean to seek refuge against discrimination and war, and found themselves in an amphibious country.

Exports: Slime products, algae, clay

Type of government: Direct Democracy

Flag: Two horizontal stripes; top stripe is lime green, bottom is evergreen. A fish is drawn in the center in black and filled in with a pale green.

Climate: Wet and humid above water, calm and lukewarm below water.

Summer: The temperatures get high, and combined with the humidity, many non-Codfolk don't stick around for long.

Fall: The temperatures cool considerably, but there is little wind and lots of humidity. The falling leaves add a lot of debris in the water.

Winter: The temperatures are comfortably low, and the humidity lessens but doesn't go away completely. It never gets cold enough to snow.

Spring: The mangrove trees bloom, making the swamp prone to bugs and debris in the water. It rains a lot, which keeps the temperatures mild.

Appearance on a Map:

[grimfox]

honeycomb

guarded, dark and warm the buzzing drone of sisterhood a melody of intimate certainty in saccharine solidarity Royal chambers swollen with ambrosia soaked bodies dripping honeydew cascading liquid amber golden in waxen cell there to preserve our love indefinitely cells with no prisoners other than the ritual of spring brought deep into the winter floral saviors, never martyred only made holy

[dailyanarchistposts]

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