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mysterycharacterflowers · 5 months

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Round 1; A bouquet of yellow orchids, rue, yew, bird’s-foot trefoil, yellow gladiolus, yellow peony, sunflower and yellow amaryllis Vs A bouquet of dandelion, asphodel, poppy, chamomile, red columbine, hydrangea, rhododendron, dark crimson rose and queen of the night

If you know who they are, or are pretty sure of it, please don't tell until this poll has ended!

First, let's talk about the bouquet of yellow orchids, rue, yew, bird’s-foot trefoil, yellow gladiolus, yellow peony, sunflower and yellow amaryllis

Meaning and why these flowers were chosen: Yellow orchids, because he compares himself to an orchid kept in a greenhouse, because yellow is a color of heavy symbolism in his source material—for nothing good—and on the other hand because yellow orchids can represent friendship and new beginnings and he’s a sweet guy who gets a possible new beginning. Rue, because it means regret and he has plenty of that, not so much because of wrongs he committed but wrongs he was complicit in and inherited as a legacy from his family. Yew, because it represents life, death, and reincarnation and he was almost an avenue for someone’s reincarnation. It also represents evil and protection from evil, and someone close to him isn’t always sure which he’s going to be. Bird’s-foot trefoil, because it means revenge and he helps someone deliver comeuppance to those who had wronged them, and though I’m not sure he was in the state of mind to appreciate it as revenge for himself, he deserves to. Yellow gladiolus, because gladiolus represents strength and that’s the last thing anyone would expect this fragile young man to have but in a way he does. Yellow peony, because peonies can represent bashfulness and he is shy and awkward and so repressed. Sunflower, because it can represent intelligence and the pursuit of enlightenment; he is a devotedly scholarly type (in fact, he likes botany a lot so he’d probably vibe with this tournament idea) and knows better than to support the ideologies of his family; he is enlightened beyond their prejudice. Yellow amaryllis, because amaryllis symbolizes love—he is deeply, yet delicately, in love with someone who has brought hope into his life—and because it also means unrecognized beauty and I think that would be funny but neat for him, given that he’s unattractive but possesses a kind, potentially beautiful personality. Description: ‘God, what a pathetic loser’ you think (assuming you’re, ahem, the POV character, but I get it) and it’s a fundamentally compassionate person who was only complicit insofar as he was trapped in an abusive system and had succumbed to despair. Incredibly polite to his shitty family and tells the first person who asks that he thinks the family home should be burned to the ground. He may be a bit ugly and awkward, but in good circumstances he radiates the silly joy of a nerd. Also, he’s one-half of one of my favorite fictional interracial couples; they are such a good and sweet and thematically resonant duo

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Now, let's talk about the bouquet of dandelion, asphodel, poppy, chamomile, red columbine, hydrangea, rhododendron, dark crimson rose and queen of the night

Meaning and why this flower was chosen: Dandelion- overcoming hardship [Hes been going THROUGH it, like its been rough for this guy] Asphodel- my regrets follow you to the grave [he is riddled with guilt, for things he did, for things he didnt do, just- so much guilt] Poppy- eternal sleep, imagination [dreams are a very important aspect of the media] Chamomile- patience in adversity [he has been scraping by not dying by the skin of his teeth, he is constantly experiencing the Horrors] Red Columbine- anxiety [he is soso goddamn traumatized] Hydrangea- Frigidity and heartlessness [hes kind of a bit of an evil bitch] Rhododendron- Danger [He has been in non-stop life threatening danger since the series began] Dark Crimson Rose- Mourning [he is defined by his grief and regret] Queen of the Night- enjoy small moments because they do not last [Any minor joy he finds is immediately crushed, this man CANNOT have nice things] Description: Ohhhhh he is riddled with guilt. He is a private investigator. Everyone he loves is dead, its all his fault, it also kind of isnt. He is in a toxic yaoi situation-ship with a ghost in his brain. He is a pathetic wet cat and every eldritch god he meets wants to fuck him so bad it makes them look stupid. Hes serial killer on accident but also on purpose. Hes british and half of the media hes from is him whimpering or gasping- but it isnt horny- hes just so miserable. He loves art, he beat a widow to death with a rock one time. Hes iconic, hes wife material, he had a severed head at one point (not his).

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#round 1 #mysterious character 2: yellow orchids - rue - yew - bird's foot trefoil - yellow gladiolus - yellow peony - sunflower - yellow amaryllis #mysterious character: dandelion - asphodel - poppy - chamomile - red columbine - hydrangea - rhododendron - dark crimson rose -queen of the

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phantomlegume · 1 year

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"After a messy break up, you're left without a job or a safe place to live. Thanks to a family friend, you end up moving to a highly coveted and idyllic island off the northeastern coast called Saint Anne's. It's been a few months after your initial move and you've found yourself enjoying your new life more than you thought was ever possible.

A chill roommate, a compassionate boss, and a playful baker have done a wonderful job of making you feel at home on the small picturesque island. However, it seems as though you've recently caught the eye of Saint Anne's most eligible bachelor, Garret Belmont. His good looks, charismatic personality, and immense wealth would be considered a blessing to most, however everything is not what it seems at Saint Anne's..."

I've been working on this project on and off for the past few months and it's finally far enough along that I feel comfortable announcing it publicly! I’ll be making a corresponding tumblr soon, but in the meantime I’d suggest all of my 18+ followers check out my official Twitter for this project at @CrmsonHydrangea !

#visual novel #vn #horror visual novel #crimson hydrangea visual novel #crimson hydrangea vn #yandere #yandere vn #yandere visual novel

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rabbitcruiser · 11 months

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Flower Day

Flower Day is celebrated annually on May 20. It makes a toast to the beauty of flowers and the ways they are useful to us. On the holiday, environmentalists and conservationists create awareness about flower conservation and what can be done to save endangered flower species.

History of Flower Day

We love flowers because of their awe-inspiring beauty and fragrance. They also play a significant role in romance, medicine, rituals, and religion. You can spot them at christenings, funerals, weddings, and parties, as corsages and boutonnieres at special occasions, and as home decorations and thoughtful gifts. They are also used at places of worship, especially by Hindus. It’s not uncommon to see religious shrines adorned with flowers.

There are also some flowers that regularly feature in our meals! Nutritious vegetables like broccoli, cauliflower, and artichoke are actually flowers. Similarly, some flowers are used as spices, such as crocus (or saffron), cloves, and capers. Hops are used in beer, and dandelion and elderflowers are used in wines and cocktails. Moreover, some flowers are used to make herbal teas, while others are used as metaphors. For example, red roses symbolize love, poppies of death, iris and lilies of burial, and daisies of innocence. Artists and poets have also sought flowers as muses.

However, caring for flowers is no mean feat! Flowers have their own unique requirements in terms of growth and health. Some flowers prefer to be in the shade, while others need sunlight. Still, others thrive in damp soil, while some require the soil to be on the drier side. Flowers are divas, but they’re divas that have held our hearts for centuries.

Flower Day timeline

2500 B.C. The Egyptians

The ancient Egyptians become pros at flower arrangement.

776 B.C. Flowers and the Ancient Olympics

Woven garlands and wreaths are awarded to victors during the Olympics.

1000 A.D. Flower Arrangements in Europe

Churches and monasteries are adorned with flowers.

1400 A.D. Renaissance Painting Feature Flowers

Flowers became a common motif in Renaissance art.

Flower Day FAQs

Why do we celebrate Flower Day?

Flower Day encourages us to show love and appreciation towards friends, family, and even strangers through the gift of flowers.

What is a signature rose?

A single perfect red rose clubbed with a baby’s breath flower is considered a signature rose. It is the most sought-after flower on Valentine’s Day.

On which holiday are the most flowers sent?

Christmas and Hanukkah account for the most flower gifts all year.

Flower Day Activities

Attend a flower arrangement event

Buy flowers

Plant flowers

Flower arrangement is an art that requires talent, patience, and hard work. So, celebrate Flower Day by attending a flower arrangement class.

What’s a better way to celebrate Flower Day than by buying flowers? Gift flowers to yourself and your loved ones. You could even buy some flowers to decorate your house!

Celebrate Flower Day by planting your very own flowers. Buy a couple of saplings of your favorite flowers and pot them around your house. Look up how to care for the flowers and watch them bloom!

5 Unique Facts About Flowers

Roses and apples

Flowers could ward off evil spirits

Tulip bulbs are versatile

The oldest flower was discovered in China

Sunflowers follow the movement of the Sun

The rose flower is related to the apple and peach family.

In some cultures, aster leaves were burned to ward off evil spirits.

They can be substituted for onions in recipes.

The Archaefructus sinensis flower bloomed around 125 million years ago in what is now known as China.

They move from east to west throughout the day.

Why We Love Flower Day

Flowers are beautiful

Flowers are muses

Flowers are important to us

We love celebrating and cherishing all things beautiful. When we look at flowers, they brighten our day instantly. Flower Day is celebrated in honor of flowers, which fill us with hope and joy.

During the Renaissance, flowers became the muses of various artists and poets. Even today, paintings, dresses, aprons, and other art pieces feature flowers. It is remarkable how flowers have inspired us with their beauty.

Flowers are not just objects of beauty; they are a source of nutrition and healing as well. So, on Flower Day, we can express our appreciation for flowers.

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whaledenwtf · 5 months

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Halsin x Dryad!Reader - The Summer Solstice

IM BACK BITCHES!!! Instead of doing my presentation for university I'm typing this. You're welcome.

Cross-posted on AO3 here: Link All other links will be at the end of the fic!! ENJOY

Warnings: afab!reader and Male Smut, Breeding Kink, Creampie, Oral (Female and Male Receiving), BEACH SEX YEAH, Size Difference, Oh Yeah Did I Mention MATING PRESS

Once again, my efforts to keep him as true to character have been made. :)

WORD COUNT: 3630

Link to some Summer Solstice Rituals I reference here: LINK

You couldn't help but be impressed. It was the summer solstice, and the Arch Druid of the Emerald Grove handling the rituals of the day was excelling. Excelling enough to gain the attentions of Silvanus himself. You were watching his back from behind an oak tree, admiring the musculature. He was tall, strong. You liked that. Your mind flitted between the mortal and what had happened earlier in the day. The Oak Father presented himself to you in your mind earlier today, expressing his excitement of one of his followers.

"His name is Halsin. He has excelled in many of the rituals and in assisting nature. He has even reached Arch Druid status." He had said offhandedly. You were always a curious Dryad, and knew you had to investigate. You knew Silvanus was meddling but you haven't been around mortals in decades. You wanted to join the festivities after all; the summer solstice was your favourite holiday! The flowers are already in full bloom, the summer air is sweet with the smell of hydrangeas and peonies. You knew many of your companions were celebrating on their own, with nature and chosen company. You decide to get a little closer to the celebrations, walking out from behind the oak tree you were hiding behind. Many of the druids turned to look at you and gasped. Many of them dropped their lutes and violins, the sounds of nature becoming louder in the sudden silence. Many of them came to you, with offerings of honeyed mead and flower crowns. You crouch down to a small elf child holding a marigold and lavender crown.

"Little one, may I wear your crown?" They look at their parents for guidance before nodding and placing the crown above your head. It blooms further once it is placed upon you, and the smell of lavender wafts around the air. You pluck one of the lavender buds from your crown and put it behind the child's ear, smiling.

"Now we match." The child giggles in wonder, before running to hide behind her mother's leg, watching you in glee. You rise to stand, only to notice the Arch Druid had turned around to watch you. You are stunned by his beauty. His face is angular, with a tattoo on the right side and a gruesome bear scar on the left. He was perfect, in your eyes. You smile at the crowd you attracted, before walking past them to reach Halsin. When you get close, you smell him and are enamored further. Pine, musk and cedar. You can understand why Silvanus had sung his praises; he was the embodiment of nature.

"We haven't had a dryad join in our festivities yet. May Silvanus preserve you." You bow dramatically, the vines and leaves that make up your clothing sway beautifully behind you.

"An honour it is to meet you, Arch Druid Halsin. Your reputation precedes you." He chuckles, his voice deep and booming.

"I hope you heard all good things I hope." He smirks down at you, hazel eyes glistening in the twilight. The last beams of sunlight shine on the both of you. You glow with a radiance, like water reflecting sunlight, and he is attracted to you. Your beauty, your essence, is all captivating.

"Silvanus has only sung your praises, Halsin. I had hoped to see you in person and was graced by your ceremony. Wonderfully done." He blushes, the tips of his ears burning crimson. He seems at shock from your words; Silvanus has praised him? He feels truly blessed. You turn to look at the onlookers, who were still gazing at your beauty.

"Please, continue your celebrations. The Oak Father wishes you all enjoy yourselves in the time of festivities. Enjoy nature as he intended." You words were clear, and not a moment later, did everyone begin celebrating again. You turn back to Halsin, who is watching you in wonder. You blush lightly under his gaze, before sidestepping to look at the altar of light.

"Beautiful spread. I see you added citrine and pyrite; as well as some local blooms." That seems to snap him out of his spell and he nods.

"The celebration of the solstice is one I take very seriously." You turn to look at him over your shoulder.

"May I?" He waves over the altar, allowing you to do your magic. Your eyes begin to glow green, and sunflowers begin to bloom in your hand. You lay them aesthetically on the altar, smiling.

"Thank you." He tells you earnestly. You giggle at his enthusiasm, smiling as you turn back to him.

"Of course-" You look at the horizon, noticing the the sun had set. "Well, I believe it is time for the bonfire and feast! Oh, I haven't been to solstice festivities in years." You tell him excitedly.

"Join us." He tells you. You smile widely at him, and his heart flutters in his chest.

"I'd love to. I'll dance- oh and sing! I'm so excited!" You are buzzing in place. He finds it adorable. His hand goes to the small of your back ushering you forward.

"Go on! Enjoy yourself." His hand feels warm on your skin, and you blush.

"What about you?" He waves you off.

"I tend to look over the festivities. Have to make sure we do not lose any cubs." You bite your lip, thinking. You had an idea.

"What if I ask you to celebrate with me? Would you join then?" His gaze glances down at your lips before meeting your eyes.

"I can make an exception, for such a beautiful guest." You blush once again. He smirks as your skin darkens, and he can't help but wonder if that blush shows up on other parts of your body, hidden to his eyes.

"Then I will make sure to save a dance for you." You go on your tippy-toes, planting a soft kiss on his cheek, before running forward into the fray. His hand holds his face where you had kissed him, and he smiles. He can't wait.

You had spent the last hour dancing with the children of the Grove. You were showing them the dryad's dance, a sensual dance with a lot of swirling; your arms swaying. Like a willow tree you wave and sway, the wind following your movements. Your eyes catch Halsin watching at you, a heat in his gaze. At the end of the dance, you end with a flourish, arms spread up towards the moon. Flowers and flower petals fall over the children, who squeal and giggle excitedly. They come to hug you and you pet many of them, sprouting daisies and marigolds to give to each child. Once they receive their gifts, they run around the grove, chasing each other and playing. The music changes to a very familiar tune. The musicians begin playing "Down by the River", and you begin to sing. Your voice, ethereal and otherworldly echoes in nature. You begin to dance, voice still echoing. Like a siren, Halsin felt the pull of your voice, and began to edge closer to you subconsciously. Once he gets close enough, you grab his wrist, tugging him into a dance. You begin to circle one another, one of your hands palm to palm with one another. You continue to sing, your gazes locked. He is entranced by you.

"Down, down, down by the river." You end the song, twirling around Halsin. You both bow at one another, as everyone applauds you both.

"Thank you for the dance." He tells you huskily. You squirm under his gaze.

"I was hoping for more than one dance." You tell him quietly. He feels particularly emboldened by your response, and puts his hand around your waist.

"What were you thinking of?" He asks you quietly. Your hands lay on his chest.

"Perhaps we can celebrate the solstice together... privately." He hums, his arms pulling you closer to him. You feel his strength through your close bodies, and admire him further, hands caressing his chest, mapping his body.

"What of my duties?" He asks you. He doesn't seem to want to decline. You look around, noticing everyone having fun and participating in ritualistic dances.

"Meet me near the shoreline after the last song has ended and nature's music is loud again. I will wait for you." Your lips graze his gently. You taste like freshwater and thyme. His lips become numb, and his mind is emptied of all rational thought. His eyes glow amber as he watches you walk to the shore, hips swaying. A low growl leaves his chest, and he almost transforms into a bear. He can't help but curse his need to diligently do his duties. This night will feel eternal.

When the last notes of music have died down, and all that is left of the large bonfire is embers, he seeks your company. The night is dark, lit by glowing mushrooms and occasional group of fireflies. His path is dark, but he has never felt such peace. He walks the path to the shoreline, where your voice carries as you sing; the sound of crashing waves accompanying your music. His heart beats loudly in his ears, the tips of them twitching in his excitement. In all his years of existence, he has never lain with a dryad. It seems surprising, for many of his years he had taken an extensive amount of lovers, all of which were of many different races and ages. His bare feet finally hit the sand, and he sinks slightly in his continued path to you. He sees your ears twitch before you turn around, smiling.

"I was beginning to get concerned." You tell him softly. Your voice was gentle, and the emotions that burst forward from his heart urged him to speed in his walk to you, almost sprinting.

"You needn't be concerned of me." You rise to greet him, hands stretch out. He gets close enough to grasp them, and pulls you forward. You land on his chest, and are forced to look up at him. The stars are reflecting beautifully in your eyes. They are focused on his own gaze, and he has never felt more grateful for all of the actions, faults and obstacles in his life that had brought him here; with you.

"Can I not be concerned for someone I care about?" He blushes at the remark, and you notice the druid's skin darken. His hands let go of your own to grasp the sides of your face.

"You care?" You bite your lip, watching his amorous gaze.

"When Silvanus spoke of you, I must admit it was not the first time I've heard of the admirable and fearless Arch Druid Halsin. Your bravery and attunement to nature always attracted me to the idea of you. Now that I stand before you, my heart beats in tune with yours; the idea of any other being is far away in my mind. You take the forefront of many of my thoughts, and have been for the entirety of the day." His hands pull your face forward, his lips smashing against yours. This kiss was unlike the other; passion, excitement and need were felt in this kiss. You moan against him, and his tongue takes advantage of your lowered defenses. Your tongues move against each other languidly, caressing one another. You pull away from him, only to push him down so he is laying in the sand. You sit atop his lap, and begin kissing him again.

He decided that if lightning had struck him in this moment, he'd die the happiest man alive. Such words and attentions he had never heard, especially from the lips of someone he's come to admire so much. The world around them dissipated, and all that was left was them and time indefinite- your words and touches, your two souls joining in nature's basest form of love. His hands caress the sides of your body, his touch igniting heat wherever they touch, a heat blossoming in the very core of your being.

When air becomes a necessity for you both, you separate. You begin to pull his ceremonial tunic upwards, before laying it gently next to you both, taking care in the important garb. His pants are next, and his undergarments fall with them. You kneel between his legs and admire him. It seems Silvanus had taken great care in his looks, and his personality. If you hadn't known better, you'd believe him a god; crafted from your mind's eye. In a moment, he lifts himself up to remove your dryadic clothing, mostly leaves and vines, so he could gaze upon you. Once both naked, your touches become lighter, hovering over him ever so slightly. His skin breaks out in goosebumps, the hairs rising slightly.

"Your beauty is one I never thought I could ever gaze upon." You tell him sweetly. His eyes leave your face for a moment to gaze at the rest of you.

"Sitting here, with you, shows me that some of nature's greatest beauties are ones I hadn't had the chance to gaze upon yet. No words can even begin to describe how I see you in this moment; your beauty cannot be fully grasped with something as limiting as words." You crawl further up into the crevice of his thighs, your belly rubbing against his hardened member. Your noses are touching now, and you are exchanging each other's air.

"I need you." You whimper, and one of his hands grasp the back of your neck, under the thickness of your hair to pull you into a savouring kiss. His other hand goes to tread the path of your body; from grasping and playing with the pebbled peaks of your breasts, to caressing your bountiful curves to the apex of your thighs. You moan into his mouth as his thick fingers tickle the outline of your cunt, feeling the wetness that has gathered there. He moans when he realizes truly how wet you had become. His fingers then dip in between the seam of your cunt, to gather some of your nectar before separating from your lips to taste you.

His eyes flash golden at the taste of you on his tongue. Your wanton moan turns into a shriek as he pulls you up until your cunt is levelled with his mouth.

"I'm going to savour you now. Devour you, until you cannot stand, and your voice is strained. May I taste you, sweet one?" You respond to him by laying your full weight on his face. He wastes no time in savouring your scent, and... devouring you. His tongue explores your depths, as his nose bumps into your clit. You grind on him, juices flowing down his chin. He grabs your plush thighs, grinding you harder into him. He pulls away for a moment to release his grab on one of your thighs before plunging two of his thick fingers into you and sucking on your pearl. You will not last with his attentions. He is feasting on you, your moans and pants urging him further.

"That's right, my little lavender. Finish on my tongue and fingers. Cum for me." The authoritative tone his voice took shook you to your core, and you finish on his fingers and talented tongue. With a moan, your juices leak out of you. He begins to lick your mess, moaning at the taste of your essence. His grip on your thighs have waned enough for you to scramble away, legs shaking. You land with a thump on the ground between his thighs, grasping his cock in your hand. You stroke him once, then twice, before rubbing the pad of your thumb on his head and spreading his precum around. You pull away to taste him, and moan. He growls at your debauchery.

"I'm going to taste you, Halsin. Need to taste you." You huff out as if out of breathe, before taking him in your hand again. Your lips descend on him, tasting him. Your tongue was heavenly on him, and he grasped your hair in his hands, bucking into you. You moan around him, taking him to the back of your throat. He grunts at your attentions, grasp tightening. You pull away for a moment, taking deep breathes before looking him in the eye and taking him further into your mouth. You reach the patch of hair at his base, the tip of his cock hitting the furthest parts of your throat.

"O-oh. Fuck-" Hearing him lose his sense of self, and the fact he uttered an expletive made you feverish, and you began to deepthroat him, ushering him to thrust into your mouth. He takes advantage of your wants, thrusting into you. Your hands move upwards, fondling his heavy sack. Without warning he thrusts deep, finishing in your throat. You swallow as much as you could, the taste of him tart but delicious; you want more. You continue to suck and bob up and down his member, until he cums again, shaking and groaning loudly. You pull off of him, gathering the cum and spittle that leaked from your mouth and putting it back in your mouth, savouring him. He watches you with hunger. He sits up and growls, exciting you. His eyes glow amber, and without warning he transforms into a brown cave bear. You bite your lip at the transformation, aroused by his show of strength. He transforms back into his elvish form, stumbling.

"I-I'm so sorry, I transform when my baser... urges become too much." You shake your head, before sitting down and spreading your legs. Your hand spreads your cunt open, and he watches how your thighs and lips glisten with arousal.

"Breed me, my bear." His eyes flash golden again, but he refrains from transforming again. His arms grasp your thighs and pull them to your shoulders. You're bent in half, and the tip of his still very hard cock is poking at your entrance.

"Please Halsin. Take me. Make me yours." You tell him, urging him to thrust into you. He grunts and thrusts into you with one stroke, burying himself to the hilt. Your back arches off the sand, breasts pressed against his chest. Your lips meet again, teeth clashing at the force of your kisses. His thrusts are rough, and he continues to hit that sweet spot. You keen in his mouth, and he chuckles breathlessly. He continues his pace, hitting that spot effortlessly each time. His hips grind against your clit with each thrust, and your body is overstimulated quickly. You know you will not last long, his passion and accuracy in driving you wild bringing you closer to your precipice.

His lips leave yours, before latching onto your neck and biting you. You caterwaul at the action, gripping his triceps tightly. Your nails are digging into the skin, but he does not care. He is selfish in this moment, wishing you would stay like this with him forever, until the world has disintegrated around them. He removes his teeth from your neck, before his lips latch onto your nipple and suckle from them. Its too much, and you arch your back painfully as you finish. Your constricting walls bring him to completion, your cunt milking his cock. You whimper as you feel his heavy load inside you, leaking around his cock. He thrusts again, and both of you seize with sensitivity. He pulls out of you gently, before laying down next to you. His arm pulls you onto his chest, and you bask in his warmth.

"I'm sorry." He whispers to you. Your head snaps up to look at him. He looks upset, his brows furrowed.

"What's wrong, my bear?" He shakes his head.

"I'm selfish. I'm afraid for the sun's rise for that may take you away from me forever. I... I do not want to let you go, my love." Your eyes get misty, and your hug him fiercely.

"Why apologize? If I could I'd spend eternity in your embrace." His arms wrap around you, holding you to him tightly.

"But you cannot." He whispers. A tear leaves your eyes.

"I'm afraid not. But I can promise to come to you again. When the wind wafts the smell of lavender and marigolds in the air, that will be me calling to you." He closes his eyes and savours his last moments with you.

"Then let us enjoy what time we have left." You nod, wiping your tears from your eyes.

Until sunrise, he spends his time with you in silence, basking in your company. He has never felt such loss when the person has not left his embrace. This time with you has changed him, and he does not know how he can continue his devotion and duties after meeting you. When the dawn breaks, you're moving out of his arms, heartbroken.

"I will visit you as soon as I can." You promise him, getting dressed in your dryadic dress. He pulls his clothes onto his body, which has become cold without your touch.

"I will not forget this moment with you-" He pauses, frowning at his realization. "And… What is your name?" He asks you, cringing as he realizes his poor manners. You look over your shoulder, smiling gently as the sun hits your body.

"(Y/N). Hopefully fate allows us another moment together, my handsome bear." You disappear with a flourish, fully bloomed lavender and marigolds left where you were standing. Y/N… Your name is sweet on his tongue, sweeter than the taste of you. He can never forget a name as sweet as yours, a name that will probably stay branded on his brain until his last breathe.

THE END.

If you'd like to request anything, please do so! I'm getting back into writing and I'd love to write anything inspired by the people! Send requests here: LINK Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist: LINK

#fanfic #fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #smut #halsin smut #halsin x reader #halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin x dryad!reader #oh yeah we get sex #sex time #you call him my bear #i want him so bad #need his tree trunk arms around me NOW #im attracted to pixels help

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circinuus · 1 year

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can you make dazai blush?

0.6k words. gn! reader

❥ inspired by this video, and here's my honest reaction; possibly ooc dazai

dazai, who is eloquent in his words and smooth in his gestures; a ladies' man with looks that are easy in the eyes and a voice pleasant to the ear.

dazai, who eyes you curiously when you first step into the agency, wet behind the ears, timid at kunikida's instructions and atsushi's reassuring words.

dazai, who finds the way you stumble your words very endearing, who finds the way the apples of your cheeks heat in crimson adorable whenever he reaches for your hand and starts a soliloquy about how you're just like a beautiful flower.

dazai, who pauses before waving a woeful hand when you return his grasp with a more secure and worried squeeze after he gives you an offer on a lover's suicide. your silent worry and reprimand do not cease even with kunikida's and atsushi's notions that such is just how the agency is.

dazai, who started looking forward to going to the agency every morning, wondering what expression you'll make today. will you bashfully scrunch up your nose if he compliments how your eyes sparkle like the evening tsurumi river that failed to drown him? or how your hands are as soft as the petals of a foxglove? will your eyebrows crease in frazzled concern if he eats that poisonous shroom again?

dazai, who frowns and is against the idea of you going for a fieldwork near yokohama port—more than he expected he will be.

dazai, whose face freezes and tongue paralyzed when you stop him after work one evening, in your arms is a bouquet of fresh blue hydrangeas. "thank you for being such a good senior," you said with heartfelt gratitude. dazai thinks of the possibility of you mistaking him for kunikida, or yosano, or atsushi, or other people from the agency. the possibility is unlikely.

dazai, who usually brushes off or basks in compliments that come his way, but is now stuck in perplexed blinks when you told him about how kind he is, the white stray cat still cradled in his arms and occasionally licking his cheek.

dazai, who is a suave man—accepting honmei chocolates here and there with practiced ease—only to pause in a hesitant, surprised, expression when you hand him a store-packaged box of chocolates. a giri chocolate, he realizes, before covering everything with his usual fanfare and tease.

dazai, who couldn't pinpoint his small exhale is out of relief or disappointment.

dazai, who now doesn't know what to do with you because he is scared of catching feelings, and you catching feelings for him.

dazai, whose, for the first time in forever, mind got thrown off balance and blood rushing to his cheeks when you absent-mindedly drop an innocent comment before the day ends, your eyes still solemnly set on the reports you devoutly type out.

‎

"i'm going to give my honmei chocolate and confess my love to you after work."

"eh?"

"are you free after work?"

"mm."

"be prepared then."

"okay."

"why is your face red?"

dazai, who now sits straight trails off a chuckle. his fingers subtly tighten on his complete suicide book as he raises it closer to his face.

"wasn't that basically a confession?"

and you, who are finally freed from the shackle of fatigued absentmindedness and gasp in morbid realization, face bursting to a million shades of rose.

"ah!"

"please forget i said that-"

this is basically the sunshine x the flirt turned to a mess--because of genuine affection. fic writers, i beg you to consider this concept: a blushing and flustered dazai, a thread 🤡

♡ @ashthemadwriter

#bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader

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reneray · 1 year

Text

commission/request for my friend allbuthuman!!! (i have permission to post)

1 red salvia, 1 hydrangea, 1 wilted lily, 1 orange lily (for chuuya, this whole bouquet is for chuuya btw), 5 crimson roses, a handful of yellow hyacinths, 12 (6 here) dark dahlias, 2 geraniums, and 2 butterfly weeds

they all have meanings behind them, and theyre based on a piece done by allbuthuman on tiktok if you’re further interested!! it starts with “do you like flowers?”

this is easily one of my favorite pieces ive done fr

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artemis-potnia-theron · 8 months

Text

UPG things I personally associate with different deities -

(color, flower, food, animal, song)

☀️ Apollon:

- Orange

- Daffodils

- Glazed donuts

- Cardinals

- 'Inkpot Gods' by The Amazing Devil

🌙 Artemis:

- Gold

- Dandelions

- Crawfish boils

- Wild horses

- 'The Horror and the Wild' by The Amazing Devil

🗝 Hekate:

- Silver

- Lavender

- Gumbo

- Possums

- 'Black Water' by Reuben And The Dark

🐉 Tiamat:

- Ebony

- Irises

- Squid ink pasta

- Blue whales

- 'God Is Alive, Magic Is Afoot' by Buffy Sainte-Marie

🌹 Aphrodite:

- Periwinkle

- Carnations

- Oysters on half shell

- Seahorses

- 'Love Like This' by Lauren Daigle

🧚🏼‍♀️ Aine:

- Teal

- Wisteria

- Candied apples

- Hummingbirds

- 'Flowers in my Hair' by Wes Reeve

🔥 Brigid:

- Maroon

- Sunflowers

- Shepherd's pie

- Rabbits

- 'The Bones' by Maren Morris

🐦‍⬛ The Morrigan:

- Crimson

- Jasmine

- Stuffed peppers

- Turkey vultures

- 'White Winter Hymnal' by the Fleet Foxes

⚔️ Ares:

- Bronze

- Snapdragons

- Beef wellington

- Hippopotamus

- 'Lion' by Saint Mesa

🐈‍⬛ Bast:

- Magenta

- Hydrangeas

- Sushi

- Mountain lions

- 'Metaphor' by The Crane Wives

🏵 Freyja:

- Violet

- Peonies

- Chocolate

- Parrots

- 'Dance in the Graveyards' by Delta Rae

🦢 Caer Ibormeith:

- Ivory

- Water lilies

- Angel food cake

- Herons

- 'Winter Song' by Ingrid Michaelson and Sara Bareilles

🌌 Nyx:

- Dark blue

- Orchids

- French onion soup

- Fruit bats

- 'Saturn' by Sleeping at Last

🌾 Demeter:

- Chestnut

- Cornflowers

- Eggplant parmesan

- Foxes

- 'Hallelujah' by Leonard Cohen

🥀 Persephone:

- Indigo

- Baby's-Breath

- Jambalaya

- Owls

- 'The Rockrose and the Thistle' by The Amazing Devil

🦁 Kybele:

- Burgundy

- Daisies

- Kebabs

- Elephants

- 'Sleeping Giants' by The Crane Wives

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bloodofvoid · 4 months

Text

Assigning the Bad Sanses (plus Cross and Error) flowers cuz @itsxroxannex is an amazing artist and I got inspired

Nightmare:

So for Nightmare, I chose yellow carnations, purple hyacinth, and lavender.

The yellow carnations represent disdain, disappointment, and rejection. This is in symbolism of his past as Passive Nightmare, the rejection of the town, and how he was cast out. Purple hyacinth for sorrow, in his sorrow. And lavender, for distrust, in his brother, and his people.

Error:

For Error, I picked Anemone, Clematis, and Lotus Flower. Anemone, as forsaken, for he is forsaken in his way as the keeper of balance. for his . I chose Clematis, for mental beauty, in the way he is beautiful, despite it not showing on his bones. Finally, Lotus Flower, meaning rebirth, in his change from Geno to Error.

Killer:

For Killer I chose Begonia, Pink carnation, and Crab blossom. Begonia, meaning beware, in his dangerous and violent ways. Pink carnation I chose because it means I'll never forget you, reflecting in how he shall never forget his past with Chara. And then Crab blossom, meaning ill nature, in his murderous tendencies.

Dust:

For Dust I chose Hyssop, Marigold, and . For Hyssop, I chose it in it's meaning of sacrifice, in his sacrifice to try and end Chara's rage. Marigold I picked because it meant grief, in his grief of being forced to see his people die over...and over again. And Willow, meaning sadness.

Horror:

For Horror I picked bamboo flower, Hydrangea, and Chrysanthemum. I first picked bamboo, because it means famine, or pestilence. I then picked hydrangea, for it's meaning in familial love, for his love of his brother. And then, Chrysanthemum, meaning protection.

Cross:

For Cross I chose Azalea, Forget-me-not, and Dark crimson rose. I chose azalea, as it means fragile, in Cross being mentally fragile with his past, though he is still tough. I picked the forget-me-not in representation of it's memories, in his memories with hope of freedom, and his friends and family. And last but not least, dark crimson rose, in symbolism of mourning, in his mourning of his past.

#dreamtale #xtale #killertale #dusttale #horrortale #nightmare sans #passive nightmare sans #error sans #killer sans #dust sans #horror sans #cross sans

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crimsonhydrangeavn · 1 day

Note

What are the LIs birthdays and mbti?

I haven't quite figured out their exact mbti's but I can share their birthdays with you!

Garret- January 15th, Capricon,

Marcelo - April 30th, Taurus

Camilla - October 27th, Libra

Rita - September 19th, Virgo

Teagan - November 11th, Scorpio

#visual novel #crimson hydrangea #yanderes #original character #yandere visual novel #yandere #crimson hydrangea vn #yandere vn #male yandere #ask #garret #garret belmont #rita miller #marcelo aguilar #camilla bello #teagan conners

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zellink · 7 months

Text

to caress a thunderstorm

a post-botw zelink fic. [ one-shot // 13k words // E-rated for sexual content ]

>> Read on AO3

Summary: Zelda realizes that it doesn’t matter if they’re underneath the roof of the house, at a clothing boutique, in the secluded Sheikah village, or by the bay. It is the air that he carries around him that is warm and electric, emanating from the skin that wraps around his life force, his soul. So long as she stays by his side, it will always be that way. Two weeks before their journey to see the kingdom, a thunderstorm brews in their home.

Notes: I've been working on this for three weeks now and I'm so glad it's finally finished! Special thanks to @aquaticpal for beta'ing and helping me bring this piece to fruition. <3

to caress a thunderstorm

“Could you pass me the shears?”

They are kneeling in the dirt, by the bushes in front of the house that they now try to manicure into a neat hedgerow. Zelda’s hands are dirtied from planting seedlings of hydrangeas earlier, but it’s nothing compared to the soil that covers Link’s fingers, finding its way into the crevices underneath his nails.

She grabs the tool that lies not too far from her, and hands it to him. He grips it by the handles, mutters a thank you, and begins to trim off the leaves at the top.

“I never knew so much goes into shearing the perfect hedge,” Zelda says. She thinks of the hedges that once decorated the sprawling gardens of her now-destroyed castle. There was that one metal bench that she loved so well, cocooned in a hedgerow that formed a square, each shrub shaped like a cone and as tall as herself. She used to read a lot there, usually to avoid the man that she now shares a house with. She really took things for granted, back then. She took him for granted, too.

“Honestly, I didn’t know either. I usually just let them overgrow.” She watches the muscles in his arm flexing, the veins underneath his skin shifting as he cuts and cuts. “But I think it’s pretty straightforward. It’s just tedious.”

“Oh, well.” She purses her lips. “If you like it overgrown then we can leave it be. It’s your house, after all.”

Zelda has said this a few times before. The first one was born of a real worry that she was imposing on him. He was quick to assure her that she was not. The second and third and the next ones—well. They were still coming from a place in her mind that wouldn't stop whispering all sorts of doubt, but she also just wanted to hear him say it again, that’s all.

“It’s your house, too,” Link corrects her. His eyes do not leave the greenery in front of him, but there’s a slight smile on his lips. “And no, I don’t mind. Trimmed or not—either way looks good, I think.”

“Maybe we can let them grow out after this and see if that would look better?” she asks.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

The shears are making their way to the end of the row, now—and she notices his brows furrowing in concentration as he attempts to shear a corner into a more rounded shape.

Three weeks ago, the sky turned crimson red for the last time before it made way for light and endless blue. Three weeks ago, she dropped to her knees, century-old exhaustion finally catching up to her. Three weeks ago, he caught her before she fully fell to the ground and cradled her in his arms—her tears absorbed by his blood-stained tunic.

Three weeks ago, she finally heard his voice after a hundred years of being robbed of hearing it, saying I may not remember enough, but I’m here, Zelda, I’m here.

Today, they are kneeling in the dirt, tending to their garden, the early autumn sun beating down their backs.

The breeze feels cool against her cheeks, where tears start to roll down. ********

In the evening, they cook prime meat roulade with pesto. She has always insisted on learning new recipes, eager to remedy her lack of cooking skills, so Link assigns her the task of crushing Hyrule herbs, chickaloo tree nuts, garlic, and salt in a mortar with a pestle. He prepares the meat with practiced ease—carefully slicing it into a long thin slab with a kitchen knife.

Zelda, meanwhile, is less graceful in the kitchen; she has to lean her entire body weight onto the pestle as she grinds the ingredients into a near-fine paste. It takes a bit of time to do so, and in her periphery she sees him finish slicing the meat, so she picks up the pace and grinds and grinds, feeling the muscles in her arm burn.

Link laughs—a beautiful sound, albeit still a little foreign to her. “Take your time. This meat isn’t going anywhere.”

She'll have to get used to that, Link laughing freely. Just like she'll have to get used to watching the swell and fall of his chest underneath his tunic.

Once she’s done, she slides the mortar to him, and he begins to spread the green paste onto the meat.

It’s strange, she thinks, as she watches him meticulously slather the sauce onto the surface, careful not to miss a spot. Those hands, those fingers. Calloused and crisscrossed with scars. Capable of cooking the best dishes she’s ever tasted. Capable of pulling the holiest sword known to man out of its pedestal.

Capable of divine wrath.

“After you’ve spread the paste evenly, you can start laying down the bacon like so,” he says, taking a strip and laying it down, one by one. Once finished, he takes the bottom corners of the sliced meat and begins rolling. “You want to roll it tightly like you would a carpet.”

“But will it not unfurl when we roast it in the cookpot?” she asks.

“That’s where the string I got from Uma earlier today comes in handy,” he says, eyeing a small spool of cotton string on the other end of the counter. Zelda retrieves it and places it next to the cutting board. “You can cut the string into roughly six-inch bits. Use my hunting knife.” He nods at the leather sheath attached to his belt. She reaches for it, pulls the knife from its holder, and when her fingers barely brush the fabric of his pants, for the thousandth time since she moved into his house, she swears she could feel a jolt of electricity.

Her breath becomes ragged all of a sudden. She ignores it, chalks it off to the humid room.

Once the strings are cut, equal in length, Link begins to tie the string around the roulade, tying the ends off at the top, each tied string about an inch apart, keeping the meat from unfurling. Zelda gazes at his fingers as he knots the last string, lost in the simplicity of his movements, the way the metacarpals shift underneath the scarred skin of his hand. They’re dirty again, she’s noticed—this time with herb paste and grease, and in her mind she sees blood instead. Cupping her cheeks, wiping her tears away. Gentle despite his undeniable strength. Zelda, we have to get moving. Please. Please—

It’s his voice that catapults her back to the present.

“All right. Now it’s time to fry it.”

They bring the cutting board and a pair of tongs outside to the cookpot. Link hands the board to her so he can start the fire. Flint against steel beside dry grass atop a bundle of wood. Then, a spark, caught by tinder, which he blows a lungful at until the little specks of orange grow into flames. Firelight licks his features, his golden hair, turning him into a sculpture akin to those that used to reside in the gallery at the castle. There’s a hint of a satisfied smile on his lips.

It has only been twenty-two days since they reunited, but in moments like this, she couldn’t help but notice the faint contrast between the Link from a hundred years ago and the Link now—in the way he cooks, the way he builds a fire, the way he shears a hedge, the way he talks. Something much, much wilder resides within him, now. Or perhaps, it had always been there, but was tamped down by years of masterful stoicism born out of a need to avoid watchful eyes and whispering mouths. But after his long slumber, it bleeds through the cracks and makes itself known.

He grabs the roulade from the board and lays it gently in the pot, unflinching even as burning flecks of oil start to fly. He presses the roulade down with his bare fingers, getting a good sear across the surface. Any other person would recoil from the heat, afraid of the burn, but Link—

Well, Link is no other person.

Eventually, he retrieves the tongs from her side and tosses the roulade around with them, making sure it cooks through evenly. Once done, they bring the food and cooking tools back inside, and she prepares the dining table while he serves the roulade with mashed potatoes that they made earlier on.

They eat in comfortable silence, and without the sounds of the outdoors to fill her mind, Zelda studies his hands again—a fork in his left, a knife in his right, slicing and slicing and spearing before bringing the piece of food into his mouth.

Two thoughts bloom unbidden in her mind, though she knows they have lurked beneath the surface of her consciousness since long ago—since before she had painfully achieved her godhood, before she had even pulled her head out of the sand and realized just how wrong she was about him.

Two thoughts.

First, everything he does is wildly beautiful.

And second—

Her soul loves his soul. ********

Zelda slips into her only nightgown and crawls underneath the blanket draped on Link’s bed. For the past three weeks, she has lied in it alone while he sleeps on the makeshift pallet downstairs. ’I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor,’ he said, voice soft yet stern, during their first night together in Hateno. She wondered then, and she wonders now, how long he’ll sleep on that pallet before they finally throw caution to the wind.

There was that late night in Kakariko, following the final battle in the fields. Still in her dirty prayer dress after her long and tearful conversation with Impa. Link, patiently waiting for her behind the Chief’s house, by the waterfall. Dread settling in her throat.

They talked and talked. Feeling the mist from the waterfall on her face, her hair. Pondering aloud about the future. Swallowing that dread and trying with all her might to keep her voice steady even as her insides were unraveling.

’Your work is done, Link. I can’t ask you to do more. Nobody can.’ Tears in her eyes. Keeping them at bay. ’So I understand if you would just rather leave and live your life. Goddess knows you have earned it.’

Link shaking his head. ‘But I wish to stay. By your side. If you’ll let me.’

The dam breaking inside her.

’I want that,’ she whispered brokenly into the crook of his shoulder. ’That’s all I’ve ever wanted.’

A kiss on his neck before she pulled away. A thunderclap of a noise, his small gasp. She didn’t mean to do it, but there was a phantom magnet in her lips and underneath his skin. Simply hard to resist.

In return, a kiss on her temple.

“Zelda?”

Link is standing at the foot of the bed, a questioning look in his gaze. She pinches the bridge of her nose, clears the thoughts away.

“Sorry—what did you say?”

“We should go to Ventest tomorrow, get you fitted for some winter clothes.” He says. He’s wearing his sleep clothes, now—shaggy blonde locks all loose on his shoulders. “Rito Village can be unbearably cold even in the autumn.”

Rito Village, Zelda thinks wistfully. So much for stretching out this private bliss. In the end, duty calls her; reminds her of who she truly is.

When they left Kakariko, Impa quickly sent letters to the various chiefs spread throughout the kingdom, officially announcing the long-awaited victory over the Calamity, and the Princess’ wish to meet the people who had helped the Hero throughout his journey. The Rito was the first among the four races to respond; expressing that they would be more than happy to welcome Zelda and Link two weeks after the fall equinox. After that, they must journey to Lanayru to Zora’s Domain, then Goron City, and lastly, Gerudo Town.

“Right.” She frowns a little—the reality of having to leave this sanctuary of a house starting to settle in. “Can’t ever escape the royal in me, huh?”

Link takes a few steps to stand by her bedside.

“You know you can always say no, right?” His eyes are steely, and the earnestness she sees in them sends gooseflesh down her neck. “You’ve earned the right to do whatever you want now.”

“I know. But I want to do this. Visit each of the races. See the kingdom with my own two eyes. I just…” she sighs, shoulders slumping. “I just wish we had more time.”

Link’s voice turns unbearably soft. “More time for what?”

Heat rises in her cheeks. Oh, I don’t know.

Perhaps more time for her to gather her courage—while they tend to their front yard, while they pick berries in the forest behind the house, while she learns more recipes from him. To take those battle-worn hands in hers and pull him into her space, pull him into her. To tell him that terribly simple truth; that she loves him and wants nothing more but to have him completely, selfishly.

Zelda calculates each of these answers in her mind. All of them seem too dangerous to even be pondered upon, let alone uttered aloud to him, so she decides to say none of these. She opts for something safer.

“To do nothing. With you.”

She finally looks up to meet his eyes, and oh she’s stupid for thinking that it’s safer.

Because there it is again—the jolt of electricity, the air turning warm and heavy. It’s not unlike the air that they shared when they first embraced each other behind Impa’s house. Not unlike the spark against her fingertips as she retrieved the knife from his belt. Not unlike the million other times when they touched, whether it be intentionally or by accident, in this new century or the previous one—when the charge of two energies becomes too strong.

She sees it in his eyes, too; a wolf in its perch in the thick snow, staying still as it awaits its prey’s next move.

“Well,” Link starts as she watches his throat bob, “we still have two weeks.” A tongue wets his lower lip. “To do nothing.”

“Two weeks,” she echoes him. The air continues to turn warmer—lightning on its way to form. She tries to mull it over in the span of a millisecond. Release it or let it dissipate? “Though I guess I wouldn’t call our artful hedge maintenance ‘doing nothing’.” She grins.

Let it dissipate, it is.

Link lets out a soft laugh. Dimples on his cheeks—he’s smiling. Zelda hates him for it. Hates those lips, pink like spun sugar—for how they make her heart somersault.

He turns to the nightstand next to the bed and extinguishes the fire in the oil lantern. The loft turns darker, but his eyes stay impossibly blue even without ample lighting.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take the bed?” She asks. Or perhaps join me?

He shakes his head, something fond about his expression.

“Good night, Zelda.”

Beneath a sheet of blanket, her fingers curl and uncurl.

“Good night, Link.”

>> Continue reading on AO3

#i never know how to tag fics but uh I'll try #fanfic #zelink #botw zelink #zelink fic #zelink fanfiction #ao3 #my fic #botw fic

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