Gävlebocken 26/12/23

The picture with me wearing blue gloves was taken on March 21st (when I planted some cacti seeds) and the other one was taken today (when I noticed my first sprout)! There's a little blip of green and that's my first sprout! :D

"The day will be saved by it dying." - 13 hour clockwork soldier

The gentle king was surrounded by many children, as if he himself was one.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hold in my tears.

Why was it that I couldn't have that? Why did I have to be feared?

I closed my eyes and shook my head. I was getting emotional over a picture used to tell tales to children.

Through foggy eyes, I looked back at the kind; fabled king. Why couldn't he be real?

"I made a promise years ago to a boy who's hair was color of autumn and eyes the color of spring," I murmured a reminder as I cleaned off my broadsword.

The young mage whimpered in my arms when the first soldier passed by our hiding spot. It had been awhile and I'd have to be careful not to overdo it.

Taking a calming breath, I pulled her closer to me and pulled the light from the area, bathing our spot in shadow.

A few men stopped and started going over the area. The metal in their shoes and legs were deafeningly loud.

I tugged the mage closer to me still. I could feel her erratic heartbeat as we waited for our fate.

They had moved to another section of the surrounding wooded area before they were suddenly called back to where they came from.

When they were gone, I allowed the mage to go.

"What caused them to go back?" she asked me.

How could I answer? I had a feeling I knew but didn't want to scare the poor girl.

"They might be getting ready to rotate the guards," I offered, "and they might be the replacements."

She seemed satisfied with my answer.

"Come on, we're almost to the capital," I encouraged her, not so subtle about the change of subject.

The large firebird screeched as he flew low enough to scorch the lower trees. The troops screamed in terror and abandoned their posts.

"Do you have to do this every time we go to war?" I asked my older twin brother.

"To be fair, what would you do if you saw a phoenix flying right at you?" he returned. He was in control of the phoenix and made sure that no one was too seriously injured.

"Fair enough." I glanced over at him. "I could've sent my Púca after the captain and a few others to scare them off."

He chuckled, "I appreciate the offer but my phoenix is already out there."

"Whatever it takes," I started, watching the forest burn in the night.

"To keep our kingdom safe," my brother finished.

You are the first ever completely ethical vampire: you post the terms and conditions of trespassing, make it clear in the memo that said people are subject to be fed on… You can safely say that humanity’s stupidity has kept you alive for thousands of years.

It’s Not a Phase – We Love the Moon

International Observe the Moon Night is Oct. 21 and everyone's invited! Find a Moon-gazing party near you, learn about lunar science and exploration, and honor cultural connections to the moon.

This year, we want to know what the Moon looks like around you. Take a look at these photography tips, then snap a picture of the Moon and tag us! You may be featured on Tumblr’s Today page on Oct. 21.

I’ve not seen any starved touched hero stories so may I request a starved touched hero and the villain finds out and helps them. It’s fine if not:)

"Tell me," the villain murmured, as the hero's breath came out quivering. "When was the last time that someone touched you?"

It wasn't what the hero had expected.

"People touch me all the time."

"Kindly."

"You're not kind."

But the villain's touch was such a gentle thing; the hero's brain refused to register it as cruelty, even as the villain's fingers were curled around their throat. They didn't squeeze though.

The hero should have pulled back already. They should have shoved the villain away. They did none of those things. They leaned limp against the wall, almost hypnotised by the back and forth sweep of the villain's thumb brushing sweetly against their pulse point.

It was pitiful for a nice threat to feel like affection. They were pitiful.

The villain's gaze was intent.

"What are you doing to me?" the hero whispered.

"I'm not doing anything." The villain's powers worked with touch, but they had never touched the hero before. The hero had always been too quick. The villain had managed that time though, advancing, shoving the hero to the wall and then - then this. The villain had touched their skin and then they'd gone perfectly still for a few seconds. The villain could expose all secrets with a press of their fingers, do all manner of things, but...

The hero swallowed, eyeing them. They genuinely didn't think the villain was doing anything.

Each second that ticked by seemed a confession, a betrayal, a plea for something.

The villain's hand slid slowly to to cup the nape of the hero's neck. "You didn't answer my question." The villain pulled the hero a step closer, dragged them flush. The villain's other hand wrapped around the hero's back.

They were being hugged.

A confused, entirely too soft sound left the hero's throat. Questioning. A little choked. It felt like a trap and it felt entirely too desperately lovely.

The villain tightened their grip, tucking the hero's head against their shoulder.

"Skin hunger," the villain said, softly. "Touch starvation. You are a famine, love, I can feel it."

"I-" The hero didn't know how to finish the sentence. The villain was so warm against them, a solid and reassuring presence. That couldn't be right. "What?"

"It has been entirely too long, hasn't it?"

"You're not doing anything?"

"I'm hugging you."

"Your powers-"

"-Mean I know exactly how you are feeling. How much you need this. So are you going to be good and shut up and let yourself have it?"

The hero choked out another gasp of air.

Was that was why the villain had stopped? Why they'd seemed to switch gears so abruptly when they could have finally won? The hero swallowed and shut up, even if it was a bad idea. Inch by inch, when the villain did nothing more but hold them, the hero relaxed. They melted.

"Why are you doing this?" the hero managed, pressing their face against the promise of the villain's shoulder.

"Kindness?"

"You're not kind."

The villain huffed, breath rustling the hero's hair. They pressed a kiss atop the hero's head. "Mm. Temporarily benevolent. No strings attached, pinky promise."

It was definitely suspicious, but it really did feel so unbelievably good. The hero felt like they'd settled into their bones for the first time in years. Maybe longer.

They really couldn't remember the last time someone touched them kindly, for an extended period of time. A brush of accidental touch in a crowd. A hairdresser's clinical contact. None of it was anything like what the villain gave them.

"That's better," the villain said, with a sigh. "Your nerve endings have stopped screaming at me."

"S-sorry. I-"

"It was merely an observation. You don't need to be sorry."

The hero expected the villain to get back to it, or step back. They didn't. It was probably the longest hug in the world.

Finally, the hero let themselves reach out, wrapping their arms around the villain in turn.

"Good," the villain said.

"Are we still...I shouldn't let you touch me. I'm not stupid."

"No."

"Are you going to let go of me?"

"When you actually want me to, sure."

"And you can...feel that?"

"Yes."

The hero squirmed with embarrassment. The villain tightened their grip again. The hero went still.

"Years," the hero whispered, finally. "It's been years. I can't remember the last time."

"Mm." The villain nuzzled into them. "That's not going to happen again. I don't believe in torture."

Neither of them much felt like fighting when they finally broke apart.

time lapse of all the birds yesterday