in a forest, dark and deep

i. the moon is a dirty mirror, scarred
and barely reflecting the only
remnants of daylight;
the forest is an ocean that has
never known light or dark, only
deep, unearthly blue
and i am the path that winds the trees
till they become labyrinths of themselves
and i am the ash; ash of
stars that burned like dreams
and my dreams that collapsed like stars
somewhere between my thighs and my elbows;
and my belt is of these black holes, these bruises of dawn in reverse
and my bow is of the gravity
that will break the silver mountains
which holds the mirror in the sky
and leave something not quite evil
not quite pure behind but grey;
and i am the kind of malice the
hunt worships.

ii. i am a throne
lavish leather and memoirs from
the underworld;
a throne in an empty house
that sits next to a palm tree and
collects sand, and by sand
i mean time;
because time is sand that
gets caught in our eyes and
makes us see things that aren’t there;
like this mirage of emptiness,
this seeming silence that hides
the breaking of rocks underneath
an armor, and by armor
i mean skin that knows no doors;
and time redirects here
to counting down the moments
till death comes, at the mercy of
claws that go tickticktock;
because the sky is a desert
and i am the sun burning within.

iii. tonight is twilight is the world
and the world is a candle
that flickers when i breathe.

orion and scorpion | vans.

Check out this peaceful scene at Table Rock Wilderness in Oregon for International Day of Forests. See old growth Douglas fir and western hemlock along four terrific trails as you hike up to the “fortress” of Table Rock. Breathe in the rich, forest air and remember the poem by Robert Frost, “The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep.” Photo by Bureau of Land Management, @mypubliclands.

the signs as wlw aesthetics
  • aries: spring wlw; racing each other through meadows, picnics by the riverside, small bracelets made of daisies, ice lollies, lying down and noticing shapes in the clouds
  • taurus: floral wlw; arranging bouquets, long walks through english gardens, flower crowns, tucking a flower behind their ear, floral summer dresses
  • gemini: library wlw; whispering between aisles of books (+ hiding from the librarian), reading bed time stories, sharing favourite books, staying up late discussing recently-finished novels, writing secret messages in between the lines
  • cancer: soft wlw; cuddling under the blankets, watching the rain, listening to music on the rooftop, long walks at the beach, sharing sweaters
  • leo: summer wlw; matching sun hats, sipping peach iced tea, being the best looking couple at the beach, lying side by side in a sunflower field, cycling on a tandem bike
  • virgo: forest wlw; picking berries, tree-climbing competitions, strolling through the lovely dark and deep woods, laurel wreaths, studying nature together
  • libra: princess wlw; gifting each other tiaras, sneaky glances, ballroom dancing in gossamer gowns, secret conversations in carriages, long handwritten letters
  • scorpio: moon wlw; silver eyeshadow, heated late night debates, evening walks, stargazing, secret conversations at 3AM
  • sagittarius: road trip wlw; making plans together, toasting marshmallows by the bonfire, sleeping in tents, swim-racing in the river, singing together in the car
  • capricorn: glow wlw; neon shoes, eating dinner in an empty diner at 11PM, 7/11 shopping dates, texting each other at 3:58AM, watching the sun rise
  • aquarius: space wlw; watching space movies, visits to the planetarium, 2AM debates on the existence of aliens, matching constellation tattoos, sun & moon chokers
  • pisces: mermaid wlw; lavender+aqua+silver hair, 2-people pool parties, swimming far out in the ocean, collecting seashells, doing each other's hair (fishtail braids lmao)
Zodiac Aesthetics
  • Aries: bloody knuckles, great eye brows, dark hair, broken glass
  • Taurus: wine, fireplaces, warmth, friendly faces, pictures of cute flowers
  • Gemini: pictures of friends laughing, abstract art, architecture
  • Cancer: the moon, lakes, rivers, branches on weeping willow trees
  • Leo: ice cream melting, art galleries, big curly hair, sunflowers
  • Virgo: minimalist aesthetic, stationary, journals, scarves
  • Libra: pumpkins, the smell of cloves, changing of seasons, leaves falling
  • Scorpio: smokey images, dark clothes, perfect eyeliner
  • Sagittarius: intense eyes, galaxies and stars, deep forests, coffee
  • Capricorn: nice lettering, pastels, pictures of food
  • Aquarius: alternative music, nice outfits, long wavy hair, beautiful girls
  • Pisces: circle sunglasses, jean jackets, dyed hair, beaches, seashells
Nightmares (Newt x Reader)

Originally posted by newtafidoscamander

For the lovely anons who requested: “Hey maybe either you or newt has a nightmare about the other getting hurt or killed by smugglers/poachers?” & “Maybe a fic where you have to infiltrate a gang of poachers?”

Words: ~2000

Rating: Super angsty at first, but ending with fluff that will likely make your heart burst. <3

Hope you enjoy!


“You boys ready yet?”

“Almost, it ain’t dark enough yet anyway, we’ll be fine.”

Newt could count around seven poachers huddled within the makeshift campsite, a small fire crackling in the centre of a few tents, bordered by various wooden crates and boxes labeled with illegally smuggled products and creatures. You and the magizoologist were currently hiding behind the largest crates you could find, observing the poachers quietly.

Newt was unsure of the circumstances that got him here, when or where he was, though he supposed it didn’t matter, given the danger of the situation. The surrounding forest was deep and ominous, the only light from the full moon above and the light amber flames of the small fire in the camp. Newt felt uneasy at how similar every trench-coat clad poacher seemed to bare a striking resemblance to Percival Graves, though he assumed it was likely the low-light playing tricks on him.

One poacher left the group conversation to place a cage full of shivering Bowtruckles by another pile of wooden crates, flicking at the cage and chuckling at the creatures’ fearful cries in response.

Though he was worried for the small beasts, Newt’s attention was caught by distinctive clicking, watching in horror as one of the poachers loaded a hunting rifle of sorts.

“Tell me why we gotta do it this way again?” one of the smuggler’s scoffed, spitting into the fire unceremoniously.

“It’s easier to use magic, but it ain’t the same.” The shorter of the bunch explained, tucking his wand in his pocket. “Thrill of the kill type thing I suppose.”

One of the men chuckled while checking his golden pocket watch. Newt assumed him to be the leader, loading his own rifle with a sickening grin. “I suppose the No-Maj’s do know what they’re talkin’ about once in a while.”

“Not good,” Newt muttered under his breath, brow furrowing in concern as he observed the poachers stuffing their bags with ammunition and packaged meat for bait. “They must be hunting Hippogriffs,” he whispered, leaning toward you, “They’ve likely been spotted recently in this–” His breath hitched and body stiffened upon noticing you were gone, worried herbal eyes quickly scanning the campsite. “Y/n?!”

His keen gaze found you lurking just ahead behind a few crates, crouching and slowly making your way to the cage of Bowtruckles. It was characteristic of you to take action to save the creatures, thinking about their well-being before yours–a trait Newt deeply admired, though he found it was your safety that became his top priority. He clamped a hand over his mouth as he watched nervously, almost afraid the poachers would hear the thundering of his anxious heart that drummed in his ears.  

You were so close, able to see the outlines of the trembling Bowtruckles within their small prison, you narrowed your E/C gaze to see as clearly as possible. You glanced to the smugglers, still chattering in their small circle, looking over your shoulder to see Newt’s uneasy expression as you reached for the cage–

The Bowtruckles gave elongated high-pitched screeches, mistaking you for a predator rather than a friend in the darkness, making you jump and give a gasp of surprise.

“Ey, who goes there?!”

“Stupefy!”

Newt gave thanks to his lucky stars that you had crouched behind the wooden crate before the spell left the dark wizard’s mouth, narrowly avoiding the attack. He swallowed thickly as the rest of the smugglers drew their wands, moving your way with the darkest of intentions.

His instincts taking over, Newt stood and drew his own wand with one hand, the other releasing the Swooping Evil with a clicking of the tongue that directed the creature to take out the smuggler closest to your location.

The flying beast gave a shriek as it soared into the poacher’s face, effectively knocking him into the man behind him and sending them both to the ground in a heap before returning to its owner. Newt was able to shield himself from the onslaught of attacks that were now directed his way, the dim campsite alight with flying spells.

“Newt!”

Your distressed voice caught the magizoologist’s attention, whipping his cinnamon-curled head around to find you. He felt the air rush from his lungs at the sight of you dashing from your hiding spot in the middle of the crossfire, determination shining in your eyes, worry etched in your face as you ran toward him for escape, the Bowtruckle cage in hand–

The distinct cracking of a gunshot pierced the evening air, though Newt saw you collapse before the sound, like the clapping of thunder after lightning already struck the shivering earth.

The wizard’s heart skipped a beat at the sight, seafoam eyes wide and mind frantically attempting to process the what he witnessed.

The poacher with the gun dropped his weapon to the ground, brow furrowed as he stammered, “I-I didn’t mean it, I panicked–”

“It don’t matta’, let’s go,” another interjected, scrambling for his belongings by the small fire and apparating into thin air. The rest of the smugglers followed suit, one by one vanishing into the crisp night air.

Breaking out of his shocked trance, Newt felt his body quiver with fierce wrath, casting futile offensive spells that missed their disappearing targets. Though ineffectual, he continued his relentless assault with unparalleled anguish, the poachers’ heinous laughter feeling like venom pumping from his suffering heart and streaming into his veins, boiling his blood yet chilling his bones to their core.

Newt ceased only when it became apparent all the smuggler’s had successfully apparated far out of reach, leaving the wizard defeated and panting in the dark.

Your feeble whimper of suffering brought Newt back to reality, he spun on his heels and ran to your gasping form, kneeling beside you and pulling you into his lap. Keeping your head delicately cradled with one hand, he managed to slip off his navy coat with the other.

The sheer amount of blood that gushed from the opening had the magizoologist’s heart pounding in worry. “Keep pressure on the, ah, w-wound,” he instructed, voice wavering and hands shaking as he pressed his coat to the injury, cringing at your hiss of pain at the contact. “Y/n, h-hold on, I’ve got you,” 

His mind racing for all Healing spells, Newt did a double take when he saw his free hand was in fact empty, feeling his heart plummet at the sight. “Merlin’s beard–” he growled, fumbling around the ground and sifting through his soaking coat pockets with shaking hands.

“Newt, n-no healing spell is going t-to–” you choked on the very air you were breathing, hands instinctively clenching in strain as you gripped Newt’s searching hand with all that remained of your strength. “H-help…this.”

“No, love, no I’m–I’m going to fix you,” Newt stressed, coating his tone with what he hoped was convincing confidence to contrast his fearful thoughts.

“It’s not your fault,” you managed to grit through clenched teeth, groaning in pain as Newt gingerly removed his navy coat to inspect your wound. The wizard inhaled sharply at the sight of blood flowing incessantly despite the pressure, dyeing his coat and the grass below an alarming shade of crimson. Newt felt helpless, sinking into infinite misery that rattled his core.

Your breaths were shortening, the rapid heart rate he felt through your throbbing hand had slowed and the way your face visibly relaxed as your eyes fluttered closed shattered the wizard’s brave facade and sent him spiraling into inexplicable panic.

“P-please, don’t let go, Y/n, please,” he beseeched, herbal eyes wide with horror as your grip loosened and he felt your muscles relax a bit too deeply for his liking.

Newt’s heart fractured at the sight of the sad smile tugging at your graying lips that pressed a gentle kiss against the pad of his thumb lovingly, your normally jubilant E/C eyes brimming with tears of sadness replaced those of pain. “N-Newt, it’s alright.” you wheezed, the chillingly calm tone you spoke with sent terrified shivers of denial up the magizoologist spine.

“No, no absolutely not, I’m not l-letting you go, not y-yet–” he stammered, though his tone was strong, bargaining with the forces of nature, “I will fix this, s-somehow I will fix–” he paused in his ramblings as you gave a loving smile, looking into his teary seafoam eyes with complete adoration and trust.

“I know you will.” you sighed faithfully, sending chills down Newt’s spine as he felt your hand go limp in his, your E/C eyes paling in color and glossing over like a hauntingly beautiful stormcloud coating your gaze.

The surge of mourning, exasperation and potent dread manifested itself in Newt through a harsh whimper, desiring for the newly formed hole in his life to absorb him as well.

Numbness penetrated the wizard’s chest and seeped into his core, breathing ragged and voice labored and pained, as though icy fingers clawed at his throat. Goosebumps prickled at his skin as hot tears spilled down his freckled cheeks that were reddened with strained frustration.  The magizoologist felt like exposed prey to the elements of his consuming emotions, his soul an open wound, sheer rawness that made his stomach churn and his heart incinerate in agony.

Clenching his eyes shut as he shakily lowered his honey-curled head, Newt sobbed into your motionless chest unceasingly, rocking back and forth with ferocious wails of deep sorrow that echoed through the dark expanse of the insidious forest.

Newt’s body trembled as his internal walls crumbled, the thick dust from their remains leaving him suffocating in his own grief.

The heartbroken Hufflepuff mewled your name incessantly, as though if he uttered it enough he could bring you back somehow–

“Newt?”

His heart leaped at your resonant voice, a sudden wave of nausea washing over him as his muscles constricted to the point of burning, the colors before him washing away as his vision blurred and mind reeled at the materialization of new surroundings.

“Newt, it’s okay, I’m right here.”  He felt the distinct sensation of warm fingers stroking his cheek and a hand shaking his shoulder.

Newt gasped for air as he fully awoke, sitting upright in bed and peeling the sheets from his sweat-clad body as he blinked rapidly to adjust to the darkness and make out your form sitting beside him in worry. “Y-Y/n?” he stuttered, almost in disbelief.

You gently placed your hand on Newt’s, your brow furrowed in concern as you felt his erratic heartbeat through his shaking palm. “You were calling out for me,” you informed him, sympathy evident in your tone as you rubbed circles into the wizard’s wrist comfortingly. “I’m here, Newt, right here. What happened?”

The magizoologist stared at you with perplexion and wonder, as though you were a perfect illusion in the night. His normally seafoam green eyes darkened to that of deep, passionate emeralds that shimmered even in the dark as they glazed over with fresh tears. “I-I…lost you.” He let out a choked sob and gnawed at his lower lip as his hands flew to your face, cupping your cheeks. His thumbs traced across your eyebrows, down your nose and along the outline of your lips, attempting to absorb every detail of your face through the intimate contact.

You felt your chest tighten in empathy, though you remained still as Newt’s fingers continued their mapping of your features, his thumb tenderly tracing along the curvature of your cheek and trailing up into the shell of your ear, tucking a stray H/C strand behind it.

Through sniffles, Newt admired the way the moonlight through the window cradled your face, casting deep shadows that accentuated the way your E/C eyes appeared to be almost luminous in the dark of his room. “I’m utterly infatuated with you…” he admitted breathlessly, indulging in the sensation of your delicate fingers gingerly stroking away the tears from his freckled cheeks.

“Oh, Newt,” you cooed, his confession warming your very soul and evicting a childish giggle of excitement that bubbled from your chest. “You ought to know I’m the same for you.”

Newt gave a watery chuckle that made his green eyes shimmer with delight, his nose crinkling in elation. He embraced you with relief and ardor as he pulled you back into the bed, effectively cocooning you into his arms with a contented sigh into your chest, inhaling your soothing scent as he nuzzled against you lovingly. The pull of sleep was evident in his heavy eyelids, though he preferred to bask in your presence than risk the possibility he would wake up and this too, would have been a dream.

No words were needed as you tenderly tangled your fingers in his wild honey-curls, rhythmically stroking his scalp and planting a kiss on the crown of his head fondly. You hummed lullabies softly, murmuring soothing words of comfort in between to ease the wizard in your arms. 

You couldn’t help the smile of satisfaction when Newt’s eyes eventually fluttered closed and his breathing slowed, the Hufflepuff in a sound, deep sleep warmed by your presence. Moonlight kissed his freckled face enchantingly, the sight bringing you a new sense of peace as you traced the constellation of his endearing freckles deep into the late hours, whispering sweet nothings contentedly.

Suffice to say, the both of you slept soundly the rest of the night.


Hope you enjoyed!

A big thank you to all who like/reblog, and especially those who have reached out to me with such loving words, they make my day, it is a pleasure to write for such wonderful people. <3

Tags: @deanskitten, @winchestermogernsternholmes, @flourishandblottsbooks, @maybe-maj

We’re given the choice, in this funny little life of ours, to be the shadow, or the shine. It’s ok to love the deep dark places in ourselves, to explore their murky depths and hear our own voice back, a haunted echo, it’s ok. But. Be the shine. Always be the shine, and give out your light and warmth like pennies in the offering bowl of everyone you meet. You can be the shadow, or you can be the shine…Be the shine.

3

game of thrones rewatch: 
It was a dark, primal place, three acres of old forest untouched for ten thousand years as the gloomy castle rose around it. It smelled of moist earth and decay. No redwoods grew here. This was a wood of stubborn sentinel trees armored in grey-green needles, of mighty oaks, of ironwoods as old as the realm itself. Here thick black trunks crowded close together while twisted branches wove a dense canopy overhead and misshappen roots wrestled beneath the soil. This was a place of deep silence and brooding shadows, and the gods who lived here had no names.
But she knew she would find her husband here tonight. Whenever he took a man’s life, afterward he would seek the quiet of the godswood.