weed is from the earth

Mr. Laufeyson's Ward

TITLE: Mr. Laufeyson’s Ward


AUTHOR: goddessofmischief

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are living in the late 1800’s and your parents pass away due to a tragic accident. Leaving you an orphan, you are sent to a miserable orphanage. Then, a mysterious and harsh man named Loki visits the orphanage and takes you on as his ward. He brings you to his crumbling mansion in the English countryside, where you face his cruel intentions, and eventually discover that you care for him much more than you’d like to admit. 


NOTES: Hello all. Thanks so much for your patience, I know this chapter is long overdue. It’s quite short in comparison to the past chapters, but I still hope you enjoy it. Now that school is over for me I hope to write & update more regularly. 

The following day, just after lunch, Mr. Laufeyson and I were walking together on the moors surrounding Heathcote. It had initially felt unusual to spend so much time with him, and to not have as much alone time as I was used to having. Ever since the previous afternoon we had shared every meal together and I was in his company for the remainder of the day.
Nevertheless, I enjoyed his companionship, and especially the intellectual conversations that we shared. Besides Elsie, there had been nobody else in which I could talk openly about the subjects that interested me most. From classic literature to medieval history, Mr. Laufeyson was quite informed about it all. I highly esteemed his intelligence, and eagerness, about such subjects.

Keep reading

Azriel/Elain Friendship Fic

I know there has been a lot of arguments about the Elriel and Elucien ships, and I don’t really want to add to the fire, but honestly I really enjoyed writing this. There isn’t really any romance, just two of my favourite characters bonding while out for a day in the city. More parts to come.

It had been four days since the Inner Circle had left to go to the human realms and Elain was bored.

They were re-locating the humans who had been evacuated before the King of Hybern and his army had attacked. That war still haunted Elain’s thoughts more than she liked to admit, her nightmares suffering the most. She didn’t understand how the others did it. How they lived, laughed and loved after experiencing horrors worse than she could ever imagine. Although perhaps she would go through the same later on in her life that now would last for centuries. Longer.

It had been months since she had been forced into the cauldron yet it was still hard to get used to being Fae. Just a few months ago she was planning for a life with a mortal man that was expected to last for a few decades before she perished. Now she didn’t know what to do with her life.

She had a dream of becoming a gardener somewhere far away, having a simple life where there was just her and her flowers. She would live somewhere the seasons would pass and the sun would shine. Elain enjoyed the Spring Court weather but she knew that she couldn’t live in the same season forever.

Sitting in her garden that was in the space set aside by her sister she pondered the days ahead of her. She tried not to get too carried away with her thoughts but it felt so natural. Perhaps because of her knew abilities to see into the future she found more comfort in her mind than anywhere else, despite that Elain usually tried to ignore the nagging voice in her head that told her of things she had trouble to understand. Being a seer was like having part of her conscience set aside to be controlled by thoughts of what was to come. And it scared her.

Elain sat up from her seat, which had no legs and was lifted by chains that allowed it to swing, and put her gardening gloves on. She only had a small amount of weeding to do until it would be perfect. Nesta had told her of a way to enchant the earth to restrict any foreign weeds from growing there but she refused, mainly so there was more work to do in the garden and more time she could have to herself.

Just as Elain was beginning to set to work on an empty patch that was yet to have something planted in it Azriel appeared. He had chosen to stay behind to keep an eye on the city, yet she had an idea that wasn’t all that he planned to keep an eye on. During the past four days he had merely been part of the background to her, though he assisted her with housekeeping and offered his company.

When the others were here Azriel often seemed smaller, despite his large build, yet when it was just the two of them he seemed to take up an entire room. He had a gentle character though and was never suffocating.

“Hey.” He offered, moving in a way that made his dark blue wings shimmer in the sunlight. Elain merely smiled, and set to work on the empty patch of earth that she planned on filling with some sort of flower. Maybe a tulip.

“Do you need any help?” the shadow singer asked.

“No thank you.”

He sighed, and to Elain’s slight surprise moved to sit down on the seat she had just occupied. He breathed in the scent of the rose-tinted air and for a second she half expected him to close his eyes and fall asleep. He didn’t though.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out and see Velaris. Everyone is coming back at around dusk, just before Starfall, so if we leave now we could be back well before they get here,”

Elain had forgotten about Starfall, the annual event that was the biggest celebration in the Night Court. She supposed that was silly of her as it was happening that night, but  It was hard to get used to new festivities.

She contemplated the shadowsinger’s offer, glancing back the weeds that were almost gone.

“I heard there was a greenhouse somewhere that had amazing plants. Could we go there?”

Azriel grinned at her response.

“Of course.”

It was a sunny day for Velaris with a clear sky, perfect for the upcoming Starfall. The streets were bustling with people getting ready for the evening celebrations and Elain wondered if today was a bad day to come. She had had multiple days at home yet she chose the busiest of them all to finally see the city.

Azriel, who was standing by her side, diminished any doubt she had by taking her down a path that was relatively quiet. The Illyrian warrior wasn’t talking much but his stance and facial expressions were laid-back, which comforted Elain. She immediately decided that he made excellent company.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked inquisitively, though she trusted that it was somewhere nice. It was strange that she usually had so much trouble trusting others but this part of her was almost non-existent by Azriel’s side.

“You wanted to see the greenhouse. Unfortunately, it isn’t open until another forty-five minutes so I was thinking we could stop somewhere to get something to eat, then go just as it is open to the public.” He explained.

They turned a corner and the pleasantness of the street they left was replaced by the steady hum of the crowds around them. It was lined by various shops that were all advertised in the theme of Starfall. Although it was busy it was far from mayhem, Elain noticed, which contradicted her experience of market places. The people of Velaris were not those to create chaos when all together. No, despite the many children playing and adults shopping, they created peace.

Azriel guided her in the direction of a café and to her surprise took her hand. It was warm and large, exactly how she would have guessed. He gently tugged her to help them weave through the crowd without being separated until finally they reached the place they were to eat at.

The bells by the door jingled with their entry and the lack of noise was almost shocking. Elain realised that the walls and windows were soundproof, and almost laughed at the absurdity of it. It made sense, of course, but it was unusual.

They sat down at a two person booth and read the menu, exchanging polite talk while they did so. They both decided on a cinnamon roll so Azriel got up to buy two of them. When he brought them over Elain smiled at the sweet scent that filled her nose and knew instantly that this was a perfect idea.

Azriel seemed to have the same reaction as he lifted his plate up and breathed in the scent almost comically, which earnt a small laugh from both of them. The cinnamon rolls tasted as good as they smelt and Elain almost forgot about the male’s presence when she tried it.

“Where did you found out about the greenhouse?” He said, breaking her out of her slight trance.

“Nesta told me about it. She went on a few wonders through the city by herself,” Elain answered.

Azriel nodded and proceeded to tell her about it. It was the biggest one in the night court and was often busy, but apparently, it wouldn’t be as much on the day before Starfall because people were too busy to drop by. She was surprised by his extensive knowledge of the city but she supposed it made sense. This was his home and had been that for longer than the life-span of a mortal.

“How did you become interested in plants?” Azriel asked her. She had to think for a moment to answer as it had been her passion for so much of her life. It had started, though, when her family was still wealthy and her mother alive. Elain had spent time accompanying the servants when she was bored and had befriended a woman who taught her about gardens. However, the interest had not been taught but discovered in her youth.

She told him such. Azriel’s interest in her words was comforting and she found herself greatly appreciating his presence. He did everything in a gentle way, as if he was always prepared to be of assistance to somebody else. She supposed that told a lot about his opinion of himself.

Eventually they finished their cinnamon rolls and left, the male offering to pay the bill. She knew that neither of them had to be particularly concerned about money as it was supplied to both of them generously by her sister’s mate.

It was a short walk to the greenhouse from there and Elain gaped at the sheer size of it. The construction sat in the centre of a green courtyard that was surrounded by well-kept hedges and trees. Birds of every colour occupied the area, their chirping along with the slight rustle of the leaves the only sound that awaited them.

Azriel smiled when he opened the door to the greenhouse for her in anticipation of her reaction. An even wider smile took over Elain’s face when she took in the sight of the interior.

The walls were made of glass panes that came into an arch at the roof, filling the vast space with sunlight. Rows and rows of flowers and plants were lay out in an orderly manner and it seemed that the place was bursting to the seam with colour. Vines snaked up some posts covering them with leaves and flowers and fruit, like nature’s maypole. The petals were of extraordinary shades of vibrant and pastel colours.

It was beautiful.

Even as Elain stood there basking in the beauty of the plants around her she had trouble comprehending what she was seeing. Despite the awe of it having little effect on Azriel, his smile matched hers, the female being delighted and him being pleased with her delight.

“Thank you,” She managed to croak out. He nodded modestly.

She then began to wander down the aisles between rows, closely observing each individual plant. The swirls of colours that splattered the petals of the flowers were wonderful. Many of them Elain hadn’t seen before, the place lacking many ordinary species, but she recognized a lot of the names that were scrawled onto signs on the pots. There were ones from all over Prythian, gathered together waiting for her judgment.

Elain then noticed that there were prices on some of them too. She could get one. Azriel came over to her and saw her glancing at the tags, his wings curling behind him as he positioned himself by her side.

“You can get one if you want to. I saw that there are still parts of your garden that are yet to be occupied.”

She teared her gaze towards him and saw his beaming expression.


He nodded his head and she threw her arms around him, the action surprising her as much as it did him.

“Thank you so much!” she said, almost squealing. At first he was a bit taken aback, but then the shadowsinger returned her embrace.

They stood there for a few moments before they finally pulled away. Elain scanned the flowers, no longer to wish but to choose. Her attention was drawn to a simple but elegant flower, with oval petals that were coloured by deep swirls of blue and black. It simmered in the sunlight and perfectly matched the colour of Azriel’s wings. That one.

She walked over to the flower which was placed in a ceramic pot. She glanced back at Azriel unsurely, and his smile made her beam inside. She picked up the pot and the shadowsinger walked with her to the desk around the corner to pay.
The man there seemed nice enough, his hands rough and stained with dirt. He praised her choice because apparently the species was perfect for the climate in the Night Court. It wasn’t long until Elain and Azriel were walking out of the greenhouse and back to the house.

The whole walk back she held the pot with both hands, like a child with a new toy. The loveliness of Velaris was suddenly amplified. Elain made polite talk with the male who took her to the greenhouse and she came to enjoy his company more and more. It took a while to get back to the house and she wondered if Azriel had taken a detour just to enjoy the moment longer. Judging by how much she enjoyed strolling through the city with him, she would have done the same.

By the time they got to the front steps it was nearly dusk, and the Inner Circle were probably going to be there any minute. Before opening the door Elain turned to the male beside her.

“Thank you so much. For everything,” She said whole-heartedly.

Azriel reached for the door knob.

“It was my pleasure.”

Too Much

Request: Could you make a Daryl x reader imagine where the reader has anxiety but she didn’t told anyone in the group because she was ashamed about it and one day in Alexandria she has a really bad panic attack and no one knows what’s going on?


     The air surrounding you was filled with suffocating humidity and smelled of the undead.  Sweat was plastered to your body, mirroring the rest of Alexandrians as they went about their everyday business.  The sun was beating down relentlessly on your aching shoulders as you yanked weeds from the earth. The sweltering heat caused your breathing to be labored, in turn making your heart race like a stallion. 

     “Hey Y/N!” 

     You turned to see Carol approaching you.  However, the closer she got, the more her smile wavered and frown lines were evident upon her features.

     “Dear, are you okay? Let me take over for you while you go and get rest.” You didn’t even bother to object; you felt like you were collapsing from the inside.  As that familiar feeling rose in your stomach, you knew what was happening.  You were having the pretenses of an anxiety attack. Soon enough, tears began to leave trails of saltwater down your cheeks.

     You turned your brisk walk to an urgent jog, wanting to get away from prying eyes you could feel burning holes into your back.  Suddenly, a body stepped in front of your pathway to your shared house. You tried to move around them muttering a quiet but distressed “Excuse me.” But they stood their ground.

     It was your fearless hunter who stared down at you with concern glossing over his icy eyes. He eyed your current state and worry visibly overtook his body as he held you at arms length to make sure there were no physical marks adorning your shaky frame.

     “Y/N, what happened? Did someone hurt ya? Darlin’ tell me.” he pleaded, desperation lacing his tone as he wrapped his arms around your figure, only for you to tense up when that feeling bubbled over, taking over your body as it reached it’s peak.

     You went limp, hyperventilating and crying in your boyfriend’s arms. No matter how hard you tried, your breathing wouldn’t cooperate with your brain telling it to be steady.  

     Daryl was scared. He didn’t have a clue to what was happening to his lover and felt so helpless in this situation.  He did the only thing he could think.

     He sat down on the ground and cradled your body with shaking hands, whispering reassurance into your ear while placing light kisses on your forehead.  After what felt like an hour, you finally calmed down to the point where aftershocks still racked your body but you managed to control your breaths.  

     Daryl looked around and saw everyone looking on in curiosity, and he knew it might set you off again so he sent a glare that could stop any man in his place saying to stay a safe distance if they wanted to live. The onlookers paled and turned back to their chores, pretending that you weren’t collapsed in the arms of the archer.

     “I think I can get up,” you whispered as Daryl’s eyes met yours. He wasn’t convinced, though.  The hunter stood and carried you bridal style to your home, ignoring your feeble protests that you were fine.

     Your boyfriend continued to transport you up the wooden stairs and to your guys’ bedroom.  He gently laid you on the comforter and gathered you into his embrace after settling next to you. You clung to his shirt while his thumb caressed your tear-stained cheekbone.

     “It was an anxiety attack,” you said after minutes of silence. “I used to have them before… before everything.  I haven’t had one in a while but I guess the heat triggered some bad memory. I’m sorry.” 

     “Don’ apologize for somethin’ you can’t control. You shoulda told me you got them. Let me help you with things like this. Don’t go through that alone.” Daryl said in a low voice as he tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “I love you.”

      “I love you too.”  You felt free of worries, a warm feeling spreading through you as Daryl kept you protected in his arms

The place was an ancient cemetery; so ancient that I trembled at the manifold signs of immemorial years. It was in a deep, damp hollow, overgrown with rank grass, moss, and curious creeping weeds, and filled with a vague stench which my idle fancy associated absurdly with rotting stone. On every hand were signs of neglect and decrepitude, and I seemed haunted by the notion that Warren and I were the first living creatures to invade a lethal silence for centuries. Over the valley’s rim a wan, waning crescent moon peered through the noisome vapours that seemed to emanate from unheard-of catacombs, and by its feeble, wavering beams I could distinguish a repellent array of antique slabs, urns, cenotaphs, and mausolean façades; all crumbling, moss-grown, and moisture-stained, and partly concealed by the gross luxuriance of the unhealthy vegetation. My first vivid impression of my own presence in this terrible necropolis concerns the act of pausing with Warren before a certain half-obliterated seplchre, and of throwing down some burdens we seemed to have been carrying. I now observed that I had with me an electric lantern and two spades, whilst my companion was supplied with a similar lantern and a portable telephone outfit. No word was uttered, for the spot and the task seemed known to us; and without delay we seized our spades and commenced to clear away the grass, weeds, and drifted earth from the flat, archaic mortuary. After uncovering the entire surface, which consisted of three immense granite slabs, we stepped back some distance to survey the charnel scene; and Warren appeared to make some mental calculations. Then he returned to the sepulchre, and using his spade as a lever, sought to pry up the slab lying nearest to a stony ruin which may have been a monument in its day. He did not succeed, and motioned to me to come to his assistance. Finally our combined strength loosened the stone, which we raised and tipped to one side.

The Statement of Randolph Carter - H. P. Lovecraft (1919)


In that moment, I became connected to the green life of the Earth. Trees, flowers, weeds, crops… from the most ancient to the most humble… they spoke to me. And when I spoke to them, they listened… and answered my call. I gained other powers. Immunity to poisons and viruses. Innate control of pheromones. I lost myself for a time, immersed in an emerald dream. i was pulled back by a driving purpose. To protect. To save. I am Poison Ivy.


I was so high. I had just smoked two blunts of sour. I was ridiculously high. But i didn’t like the weed I smoked because it made me feel like I was a horrible person, then in the next blink I loved myself. Some bipolar shit. Anyways I captured some pictures in the middle of mood swings so here they are. I don’t encourage young people to do drugs, but I don’t consider anything that grows from the earth to be “drugs”. I think weed can be liberating, It can bring out the best in you and make you feel free in a world of chains. When I first started getting high, my image changed, my music changed, I let go. I realized, everything is in my control but I can’t control everything. It also inspired me to  dye my hair green lol. I’m still battleing some demons but I think weed has helped. I just advise that people use it in moderation. Too much of a good think can make you sluggish, lazy and dependent.

Things To Do in Softer Months (Poem for Body)

Shed ten layers of skin.
Buy three goats and drink
eight dollar wine in a field
of orange trees. Love the hill
of my waist, the geometry
of this body, angles soft. 
Pull my wisdom teeth to tuck
in jewelry boxes. Give birth to
my sisters, to myself, to flecked
doves, thigh-wide, hips broad
as a shoulder of mountain. Rip 
white-root weeds from the ground
until the earth  is as brown and clean
as my skin. Bruise my knuckles.
Bruise my palms. Bruise the sides
of my elbows. This body
is light, is no longer an open 
wound, is no longer a closed
door. This body is light, 
through a kitchen window, pink 
sunrise, electric air. 

anonymous asked:

I think all the anon meant was that smoking drugs is dangerous. Some people die. Promoting it to be a brilliant relaxer is not always a good thing. I don't think they meant to offend, neither do I :) I like your blog lots and it saddens me to think you have to turn to drugs for happiness, that's all :( you deserve better than that. Take care of yourself xx

Give me the name of ONE person who has died from smoking weed and I’ll stop blogging. Because ever since the earth started spinning, no one has died from smoking weed.. So I’ll wait..

I really believe weed and shrooms are gifts from the earth to connect to the universe and the stars. I feel like they are opportunities to a deeper understanding. Also I think boys are a waste of time. Nothing good comes. (goodnight)

a rather silly Thommy LotR AU as a belated (as always^^) birthday present for the lovely irrationalgame <3

Since I knew she loves AUs I took at look at the list of her fandoms in her blog description and when I got to “Lord of the Rings” I though: Oh, I´d love to draw Thomas as an elf… a smoking elf…who probably buys and sells weed from the Shire on the Middle Earth black market ;P And Jimmy could also be there and play the harp… And couldn´t let the idea go and this is finally the result ;)

Happy (belated) birthday!!!  ♥ ♥ ♥ I hope you like it!

Jack in the Box

Arjan considered the hill at the end of the wooded valley, and wondered if he was going to die this day. 

The hill was irregular and topped with some scraggly metal ruins. The ruins themselves were alien, but unremarkable. Most of this world had been covered in similar ones, when the colony ship had arrived. Much still was.

The ruins were stanzas of an epic tragedy written across the planet’s very soil: mile after mile of devastated cityscape, overgrown, weed-choked, blasted and desolate. When Arjan’s grandfather had set out from Earth, frozen in hypersleep, this planet had barely developed steam power. By the time they arrived, centuries later, the creatures who built this civilization were long gone, victims of a catastrophe Arjan’s colleagues at the University were only just beginning to understand.

Now, the colony was expanding. And expansion meant roads. And this is where the hill came in: it was in the way. It blocked the proposed Leotis-Kola high-speed route.

Except it wasn’t a hill, at all. Arjan’s surveys discovered the ruins on top were just part of a very complicated structure underneath. It was dense metal, quite probably some sort of machine. It seemed to have eight legs and a thick armor carapace. It must have been some sort of octopedal tank. Somehow it had been half-buried here when the cataclysm overtook this world, and lain silent for centuries.

It couldn’t possibly still be active, Arjan thought, as the engineers’ lasers began to cut.