(nodnodnod) This whole fic was alllll about the mental images. The hazards of reaching into a bunch of fast-moving tentacles in the midst of laundry day. Seph sleeping under the ocean with all his hair drifting around like undersea clouds. Zack and Seph learning to turn themselves into razor-edged steelbearing tumbleweeds of death if they ever get their hands on enough sharp objects to have a weapon on every tentacle. The kind of devastation they could wreak on a battlefield (or, in this case, on crazymad weeds) when given the chance. Periwinkles and morning glories and all kinds of vine-flowers deciding they had to lay claim to anything Aeris touched, and putting stray dishes into some kind of silent flower-shrine to discarded utensils.

There's not much of a plot to speak of, which is one of the reasons I had Aeris pregnant (it builds in a timeline to hang lots of vignettes around), but it's alllll about the images...