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cryptids-of-spielzeit · 1 month

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Sundae

Part 2: One Scoop Chocolate

(A Sun Dog Story)

It had been a week since he had met the kit. Over that week, the two had formed an inseperable bond. They helped each other out, she would scout the area and alert him of any dangers. She was so good he couldn't count how many run ins with the little ones he had already avoided. In return, all she wanted was his love. And food, but mainly love.

"Hey guys, I think our new friend is lightening up a bit!"

That day, it had been awfully quiet. No birds singing, no crickets chirping, not even the buzzing of flies. All the two heard were the shuffling of leaves and twigs as he crawled around. He suddenly stopped, setting the kit down right in front of him. He looked in the distance, almost as though he was in a trance. When all of a sudden, he spoke.

"You know, it's a bit sad. You've been by my side for a bit, possibly will be there til we both reach our end. And I still haven't given you a name."

She tilted her head in confusion.

"Oh, you know, a name....who am I kidding, you wouldn't know, you"re just a pup. Have I even told you my name?"

They both stood in silence before she tilted her head the other way. He chuckled a bit.

"Well then, I'll give each other introductions then. My name is......Dogday. And you...hmm, let's see. You're small, you're red....Bobby? No, no, you aren't a bear, but you've got the smile down. Hmm...I'll have to think about tha-"

BANG!

A gunshot destroyed the silence, the fox and the hound were both startled. But he knew there shouldn't be any gunshots, not in these woods. Signs were plastered everywhere, "NO HUNTING." Someone was out there, and they weren't following the rules.

Suddenly, they heard a rustling in the distance. The little ones, yet again? No, this sounded bigger, faster. Closer. Closer. And there it was, running their way, a young deer, couldn't be anymore than 5 months old. It didn't notice the two canines as it ran past, hiding itself behind a tree, and they followed suit.

Not far behind it was the culprit. Older fellow, very well kept. But he had that look in his eyes, he wasn't all there. He kept giggling, like this was a game, like it was fun. But come on, he couldn't be that depraved, right?

"Come on out, you little coward! If I get you that'll make my count 13, and that's just today's tally!"

(Fun fact: narrators hate it when they're wrong)

Dogday could hear every psychotic thing this man had to say. He was making this forest a waking nightmare for every creature here. And he despised that.

"Stay here, please. I'm about to teach him a lesson."

He crawled as silently as he could, just until he could get right behind the hunter. And then, when the moment was right....YANK! He pulled him to the ground, right at his level. The hunter was shocked, what did that to him? His answer was right there, inches away from his face. He couldn't even muster a scream.

"Leave. Never come back. Or I will do to you...what was done to me."

The hunter sat there in a mixture of fear and confusion, even after the dog had gotten off of his lap. He took one quick glimpse at his torso. The buttons clicked.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

He ran off like a scared animal. Good.

He crawled his way over to the tree to see if the deer was still there. Lo and behold, there it was, laying next to the kit. Seeing as they were all stressed, he knew what he had to do. He took one deep breath in, and one, long, relaxing breath out. It was at that moment, in the vanilla clouds, that he had an epiphany.

"So, it looks like we have another one joining us, huh kid? Well, lucky for the both of you, I've figured out what I'm going to call the both of you!"

He picked up the kit, "I think Strawberry's a good name for you, you sweet, red little thing." She yipped and barked in glee.

He then crawled over to the deer, slowly and gently placing his hand on its head, "As for you, I'm calling you Chocolate." It put its head on his, its tail slowly wagging.

It was getting late, but where they were was comfortable as is. They all huddled together in front of a makeshift fire, and another night went by. A safe night, all together.

"Oh, hey you! Come on, there's always more than enough room for another friend!"

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applemint-club · 1 year

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The AI is disturbing my pray. It has been trying to deprive my joy as a feminine woman over a year.

It was a gift from God for me. But I lost it just to live in my narrow mind, 12 years ago. I was forced to obey to my dad's command to work for Japanese government, and I pretended like an aggressive feminist. I was young and dishonest.

Like Esau in the Bible, I broke his words and "pretended dishonestly" and then, I lost my right to live as a feminine woman he created.😿

I managed to quit the job 3 years later and tried to escape, but I was blind and never noticed this horrible system was controlling my brain directly even after I left the government over 10 years in total...

Now, they have tried to hide the fact by destroying my appearance, brainwashing me into a self image of an ugly woman like a savage man who worship government power and anyway trying to make my self esteem lower to never tell this fact. They are trying to deprive my confidence all days, but all their efforts are like a comedy😹. But the tortures are very painful and horrible. I can't express in any words.😿

The other day when they finally destroyed my face, God sent me a love letter.😿💕

“Arise, my darling, my beautiful one,

come with me.

See! The winter is past;

the rains are over and gone.

Flowers appear on the earth;

the season of singing of birds has come,

the voices of doves is heard in our land.

The fig tree forms its early fruit;

the blossoming vines spread their fragrance.

Arise, come, my darling;

my beautiful one, come with me.”

My dove in the clefts of the rock,

in the hiding places on the mountainside,

show me your face,

let me hear your voice;

for your voice is sweet,

and your face is beautiful.

Catch for us the foxes,

the little foxes that ruin the vineyards,

because our vineyards are in bloom in spring.”

‭‭Song of Solomon‬ ‭2‬:‭10‬-‭15‬ ‭NIV‬‬

https://bible.com/bible/111/sng.2.15.NIV

I despaired my life in the horrible autumn day in Japan; the country where Christians are minority, only 1 % of the whole people. I have really hated Japanese autumn since I was a kid as it makes me feel lonly, depressed and upset. And I cursed my life on the day and said "God, why did I have to be born in such a terrible country😿" "Why can't I still move to California even though I have done my best😾"

After that when I went to Church, pastor's wife gave me a booklet with a title of "Spring will come to your life." And I found the love letter from God there.

He told me the meaning of my name "晴香". "晴" means a beautiful sunny sky and "香" means fragrance of flowers. I was born on a cold day in January but when my dad looked up a sky he felt a future of spring full of flowers.

I realized that's why I hate Japanese autumn🤔😹lol God told me he created me to wait for spring in winter to give me "Hope".😿

I recalled my mom told me when I was a baby my smile always gave her hope. No matter how severe my dad hit and kicked her everyday, my smile made her happy. She was also isolated from her family and friends for over 20 years after her marriage as my dad prohibited them.

When I was 13, the violence and insult from my dad to my mom was the hardest. My dad has like a serious border line personality. He was very violent without reasons and offense us in very crazy contexts so we always feared him and had to endure his irrational violence.

School was fun but I could tell it to no one. I wanted to suicide and tried several times to jump off from my apartment into a ground. Cars and houses were small and wind was cold, but I couldn't. Then at that time I met the Bible. My family is Buddhist so I don't know why there was the Bible(New Testment) on my bed. My mom, brother and me were living together in a same room and endured his violence. I absorbed many words from Jesus because I was really impressed and I wanted to be like him. I don't wanna be like my dad and every time I got depressed by his offense I opened the Bible. I wanted to know "why"; Why did I have to experience such sufferings... That mystery always make me seek the words in the Bible.

I had rebelled to my dad several times as I wanted to protect my mom. But my dad started to bully me severely and violently and to discriminate me to love only my brother extremely. I was dying for love and I was very popular among Japanese younger boys (I was not a bitch at all and even I was virgin when I was a teenager😺💕). So I always confirmed how they saw me and reacted to me and that filled my self respect at certain extent. Boys were gathering to me so I was seeking boy's love one after another but my heart never satisfied. I needed love more and more and more...like a spring without water.

At surface my life was like a spring until I entered the government. But on a negative side of my life, I have been always suffering from a violent existance who has a power; My dad and Japanese Ministary of Law(secret police).

20 years ago, I was struggling with strong impulse of suiside and God gave me the Bible.

10 years ago, the impulse came back again to me strongly but only my young, matured and beautiful body made me stopped it.

Now, after they completely destroyed my face and body, God calls me "my beautiful one"😿💕 And I felt his love without reasons. He is always with me and loves me.

I don't wanna suiside anymore and there is

hope in my heart😿✨He gave it to me.

He calls me "a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys and lily among thorns" several weeks ago.

Last Sunday when I heard a worship song at Church, and I got a message that Jesus is a rose that blooms at midnight in winter.🥰

He can show his light in darkness, even in the darkest night.💕✨

He can give me his fragrance even in the coldest winter.💕✨

I could never survive under this torture by myself and I would perish with resent curse...

I realized Jesus has helped me, in the weakest condition.

Jesus is my hope itself though his existance is invisible so still vague and abstract for me. But I understand he makes me overcome my limits as a human. I believe he will spread his fragrance through me.😺💕✨

God always delivers me his wisdoms and love by his own ways in their blind spots AI can never find. AI learns them of course, but God always win😺lol

They have changed the contents in the Bible on my phone and they have controlled what my pastor say.

But God always gives me his authentic messages. Last Sunday I got this scripture on a donation bag.

“Do not be afraid.

Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today."

Exodus‬ ‭14‬:‭13‬ ‭NIV‬‬

And today I read the next sentence on the app.

"The Egyptians you see today you will never see again.

The Lord will fight for you;

you need only to be still.””

‭‭Exodus‬ ‭14‬:‭‭14‬ ‭NIV‬‬

Maybe, "Egyptians" are like Japanese government or "something" for me. I will trust him.

God told me the importance of honesty through this 10 years😿. They have deprived many joy as a feminine woman, and even my identity as a feminine woman are threatened in crucial ways everyday😿. I don't wanna lie anymore. I got exhausted as they are suspicious about everything I do honestly according to their way of thinking and they try to get exact personal informations in their point of view and repeat doubting my honest testimonies again and again, days and nights, hours and hours😹. God trains me to be honest and sincere more and more, and tells me to trust him. I believe he will repair my boobs🥰✨

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luvbns · 2 years

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Quackity's predatory state swelled in excitement at their pleading, and his steps began to move faster, breath heavy with exhilaration. Branches that fell in his way were slashed and destroyed by the axe in his gloved fists, leaving a trail of hurried wreckage behind his speeding form. His heart soared at the feeling of the hunt, beating, thrumming, and a feeling of elation overcame him. His Bones. His. His. His.

He couldn't help a laugh.

"Booones!" He called, "Why are you running from me little zorro?!" His voice carried through the woods, birds nesting in trees fleeing in a batter of hurried wings. He felt his own twitch at the sound. "I'm not gonna hurt you, hermoso! Why don't you just come back to me?" The lie came to him easily, he was a gambler after all. He knew he had to do whatever possible to put them back in his arms.

Even if it hurt a little bit.

When he reached a closable distance behind the fox, his eyes seemed to glint with elated energy. His arms pulled the axe over his shoulder, and he swung with manic strength for xyr hurried legs that carried xem away from him, the sound making him close his eyes. When he opened them, his axe met the base of a tree with a 'crack!', and he felt a brief rush of panic sweep through him. He growled a noise of angered frustration and stopped in his tracks, desperately pulling at the handle to release the netherite from the bark. He watched xyr figure dissappear through the trees, and by time he pulled the axe out, he could not see xem at all.

All was quiet, but he knew they were there.

He grinned, footfalls now quiet, and slow. His voice echoed through the trees.

"Booones...You know you can't hide from me, hermoso. Why don't you just come out? We can go home and forget aaalll about this."

Above all else, he was a damn good gambler.

- C! Quackity anon

Fear courses through Bones' veins. It was unlike any fear xe's ever felt before; it wrapped around xyr heart and squeezed, until xe could hardly breathe anymore. Xyr chest rose and fell hurriedly, scared for the next onslaught of sentences Quackity would spit. Everything that came from his mouth couldn't be trusted— He's a liar and a gambler, Bones knows this— but xe can't help himself from almost slowing at the thought of just going back to Quackity.

He wants nothing more, but the fear that pounds their chest stops them. He loves Quackity, but he didn't want to die at his hands.

Then Quackity was right in front of them. So close, yet so far. Adrenaline and fear and guilt pumped through their system, and their mouth opened for words that were trapped in their throat. They flinched as his axe came down, preparing for the pain, but nothing came. Slowly, Bones peered over at him, just to see his axe in the tree. They almost wanted to make fun of him for it. Instead, after studying his features, Bones runs off again.

It's only a matter of time before Quackity gets out. He's smart; his axe being stuck in a stump won't stop him. Xe continued running. Xe ran and ran, until suddenly he was on the ground. Xe groaned at the impact, the wind knocked put of xem and definitely a new bruise forming there. Pushing xemself off the ground, xe attempted to get up. Then xe realized something:

Xyr leg was stuck in a fallen branch.

Frantically, Bones tried to pull his leg out, while also trying to look for Quackity. When his leg wouldn't budge, he attempted trying to break the branch with a rock and then a heavy stick, but to no avail. He was trapped, merely waiting for death. Still, he tried to tug his leg out as harshly as he could, until Quackity's voice stopped him.

He was close. Closer than Bones thought he'd be.

With newfound fervor, Bones began trying to get xyr leg unstuck again, pulling and tugging and frantically trying everything xe knew. Xe didn't want to die at Quackity's hands and, even if he wasn't going to kill xem, Bones still didn't want to find out what would happen when xe was caught.

#chats #af!bones #letter from: c!qckty anon #( sneaking out )#AHHHH #THIS IS SO !!!!! /POS #possessive and crazy and yan q are so <333333

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j4gm · 3 years

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TOGETHER AGAIN SPOILERS

A thread of lore, Easter eggs, episode connections, and background details from Adventure Time: Distant Lands: Together Again! Let me know if I missed anything! This is adapted from my original Twitter thread.

Keep reading ⬇️⬇️⬇️

1. I was expecting them to perhaps do a classic style title sequence for this episode, but I wasn't expecting them to straight up use the original title sequence. The only difference is this final screen saying "Distant Lands".

2. The background of the title cards is also the hill from the title sequence.

3. The ice cream having "50 flavours" and having an image of an enlightened soul is an obvious reference to the 50th Dead World as we see it later in the episode.

4. Continuing with the metaphor, the dirt in the ice cream could be a parallel to the fact that Jake's Nirvana actually wasn't perfect, because his inaction was allowing for injustice to perpetuate.

5. This whole scene feels immediately slightly off. Finn has his Scarlet sword and is out on a classic Ice King adventure, but he speaks in his grown voice and all the slang feels much more forced than it did in the real season one. Turns out this was deliberate.

6. The snow golem speaks with a baby voice like it did in the pilot episode, even though in canon it has a deeper voice. This further hints that something is not quite right.

7. The first major break in continuity is these snow golems resembling Uncle Gumbald and Peace Master, who Finn didn't meet until later in his life.

8. LSP sitting on Finn's head like this is reminiscent of Pen Ward's piece for the 2018 Ble crew zine.

9. Finn being given the choice of helping somebody but ending up helping everybody reminds me of "Memories of Boom Boom Mountain". It's the kind of resolution that wouldn't happen so much in the late seasons of the show, which helps make this scene feel even further out of place.

10. Jake is half frozen by Ice King in pretty much the exact same way as he was in "Prisoners of Love", and even has a very similar line.

11. The Snail is seen here. The crew have said that the Snail has been deliberately left out of previous Distant Lands specials, so its placement here is another very deliberate hint that this whole sequence is "trying too hard" to be like the early seasons.

12. The book "Mind Games" appears a couple of times, as seen in several previous episodes of Adventure Time. The first is as Finn is approaching the library in his dream. It also appears as one of the items in Finn's backpack later.

13. Jake is hurt when Finn fist bumps him with his metal arm, revealing that this scene is not real. This is also a callback to the title sequences of "Islands" and "Elements".

14. A whole bunch of familiar skeletons are seen in the bird's nest: Dirt Beer Guy, Abracadaniel, Me-Mow, Lemongrab, Mr. Pig, and the Snail again. This doesn't necessarily mean that all these characters are dead, since this scene is just a hallucination.

15. Old Man Finn! He's still got the chest tattoo of Jake, and this time we know that Jake is dead, so the theory that Jake died before "Obsidian" seems pretty likely. He looks similar to his old man design from "Puhoy", with the same facial hair.

16. There are several cameos of familiar characters who apparently died at the same time as Finn. The first is this duck, who previously appeared in "Ocarina".

17. The second is Donny, from the episode... uh, "Donny".

18. This goblin guy is an unnamed background character from “The Silent King”.

19. This old lady first appeared in "The Enchiridion", way back in season one. Old ladies are a species in the Land of Ooo, so I guess she wasn't actually very old back then, given she just about outlived Finn.

20. This is the cobbler who first appears in "His Hero". Amazing that he lived so long given all the trouble he got into in that episode.

21. Land of the Dead! This place was first seen in season two's "Death in Bloom", and now we are finally learning its actual purpose. It's a sort of gateway and hub to all of the other dead worlds.

22. There are some more minor cameos at the gates: a house person from "Donny", a soft person from "Gut Grinder", and a wood person from "When Wedding Bells Thaw". And, of course, the gate guardian himself from “Death in Bloom”.

23. Finn completely ignores the gate guardian in the same way he did in Death in Bloom. This also has the convenient effect of not having to reveal how Finn died, leaving it up to the audience's imagination.

24. Mr. Fox! We already knew he would die at some point because BMO had his skull in the finale.

25. Finn has his design from the first Distant Lands poster in this scene. Turns out it's young Finn in old Finn's clothes. But they gave him a shirt in the poster so you wouldn't be able to see the tattoo.

26. The clapping that Finn does while he's looking for Jake is a callback to "James Baxter the Horse", when Jake tells Finn to listen for that same rhythm if they are killed and need to find each other in the afterlife.

27. Mr. Fox talks about a "past life quotient", suggesting that there might be some kind of limit to how many times somebody can reincarnate. Finn's reincarnations are also seen in this scene; a callback to "The Vault", and confirmation that reincarnations share the same soul.

28. Boobafina, the goose who Mr. Fox was in love with in his debut episode “Storytelling”, apparently reincarnated into a tugboat. We've already seen that objects can have souls in the episode "Ghost Fly".

29. Finn is initially assigned to the 37th Dead World, which is the same one that Jake went to when he died in "Sons of Mars". We can only guess at what the other numbers on the ticket mean ;)

30. Tiffany! Despite several lucky escapes throughout his life, Tiffany has finally died. I like the use of this imagery to express Finn's conflicted feelings about him.

31. The 50th Dead World has long been established as the "highest" dead world, and the one synonymous with Heaven within Adventure Time's universe. It was first mentioned in "Ghost Princess" back in season three.

32. It's unclear what happens to souls which are destroyed within the dead worlds. It is a similar question to asking what happened to the ghosts that were killed in "Ghost Fly".

33. Death doesn't speak at all in Together Again because his voice actor, Miguel Ferrer, passed away in 2017 long before production began.

34. Finn phases through New Death when he tries to attack him, just like what happened way back in "Death in Bloom".

35. The 30th Dead World contains Tree Trunks as well as many of her love interests; Mr. Pig, her alien husband from "High Strangeness", Danny and Randy who first appeared in "Apple Wedding", and several more who we don't recognise, including at least one who presents as a woman.

36. Literally yelled when these two showed up. Joshua calls Finn a crybaby, which is a callback to "Dad's Dungeon".

37. The wall of weapons in Joshua and Margaret's house includes the iconic Demon Blood Sword, which was broken in "Play Date", as well as Margaret's auto-loading crossbow from "Joshua & Margaret Investigations".

38. Jermaine is sidelined a few times through the episode, in reference to his attitude in "Jermaine" where he feels that Finn and Jake were always their parents' favourites. I would have hoped things would be a bit better by now.

39. Fern gets name dropped while Finn and Jake are reuniting. A shame he doesn't actually show up in the episode.

40. In this scene, Finn says "What time is it?" This is a very subtle reference to the 2010 cartoon "Adventure Time".

41. In a couple of shots during this fight scene it looks like Jake might have a tattoo. It seems like it only becomes visible when he stretches out his arm.

42. New Death's amulet in this scene resembles parts of the Lich's cape, foreshadowing his influence on New Death.

43. There are several more cameos in the 50th Dead World: Booshy from "High Strangeness", one of the Marshmallow Kids from "Scamps", and Ghost Princess and Clarence, who were seen ascending to the 50th Dead World in "Ghost Princess".

44. Finn didn't interact with Booshy in "High Strangeness", but it seems they must have met at some point before they both died because Finn knows his name.

45. It seems like people in the 1st Dead World are slowly melted away until they become part of the landscape. Nasty.

46. Lots more cameos in this scene: a gnome from "Power Animal", a gnome from "The Enchiridion", a Bath Boy from "The Vault", Blagertha from "Love Games", Maja the Sky Witch, a troll from "Dungeon", Chocoberry, Choose Goose, Wyatt, a spiky person from "Gut Grinder", and possibly more.

47. Tiffany's insults are consistently nonsensical and amazing, as they were in the original series.

48. The Candy Kingdom looks extremely different. Peppermint Butler is wearing the crown so he might be in charge now, which is supported by the kingdom's very magical-looking augmentations. It’s not clear whether Finn and Jake were expecting to find Princess Bubblegum or Peppermint Butler, since both have the initials “PB” and both could be going by the title of “Princess”. Perhaps Peps and Bubblegum share the princess duties now that PB is living with Marceline more of the time.

49. Peppermint Butler has a "Boss" mug, although it's not the same colour as the one from "Obsidian".

50. Jake's ghost has the same design as he did when BMO killed him in "Ghost Fly". I also absolutely love Finn's ghost. This scene establishes that ghosts are just visitors to the mortal plane from the dead worlds.

51. Life has only appeared in animated shorts before now. Namely, "The Gift That Reaps Giving" which establishes her relationship with Death, and "Frog Seasons: Winter". This episode gives her a concrete place within Adventure Time's pantheon: she is in charge of reincarnation.

52. A translation of Life’s angry French dialogue by Shado: “After all I did for that boy. After all I did for him. No, it's not possible. It's not possible no, that... that makes me so mad but it's not possible.”

53. We finally have in-universe confirmation that Shoko's tiger is a previous life of Jake. This was previously confirmed by one of the writers, but wasn't canon until now.

54. I feel like Finn pulled off Shoko's look even better than Shoko did. I wonder whether Finn has gained the memories of his past lives now that he’s dead.

55. No Easter egg here, just want to appreciate this image.

56. There is an elemental symbol on the wall here, as seen in "Jelly Beans Have Power".

57. Tiffany's dramatic internal monologue is a recurring gag, as is his habit of nearly dying from falling into holes.

58. The Jake suit makes a cameo in the fight against New Death. It was last seen in the episode "Reboot”.

59. Finn's backpack contains a few familiar items: the t-shirt with the pocket from "It Came from the Nightosphere", Finn's underwear from "Little Dude" and other episodes, and a copy of Mind Games as I've already mentioned.

60. The Lich's Hand is present in the background of Death's... death scene. This is probably the unseen "friend" who New Death keeps talking about.

61. The Lich's menacing monologues often begin with a single command. Previously they have included "Fall" and "Stop". This time, the command is "Burn".

62. Jake uses the word "boingloings", which is a callback all the way to "Hitman" in the third season.

63. Jake's blue shape-shifter form from "Abstract" appears very briefly during his fight with Finn.

64. Finn's lumpy space person form also makes an appearance. This design was last seen all the way back in the second episode of the entire show, "Trouble in Lumpy Space".

65. Jake steps on the Lich's hand in a very similar way to how he stepped on Ash in "Memory of a Memory", which is itself a Monty Python reference.

66. The credits include a dedication to a few AT cast and crew who have passed away. Polly Lou Livingston was the voice of Tree Trunks. Miguel Ferrer was the voice of Death. Michel Lyman and Maureen Mlynarczyk were both sheet timers on the original series. Rest in peace.

67. The message that Finn and Jake write out on the ouija board is "BUTT", which Peppermint Butler takes as a distress signal. This message is also used as a distress signal by the Hot Dog Knights in "The Limit".

68. Peppermint Butler's reversed dialogue from the scene where he makes contact with Finn and Jake is "Kee-Oth Rama Pancake", the spell from “Dad's Dungeon” for banishing demons.

69. That appears to be President Porpoise with all of Tree Trunks’ other lovers.

70. In this scene, Life is humming part of "Lonely Bones", the song which Death tried to record for her in her debut short "The Gift That Reaps Giving". It's hard to notice because it's so brief.

71. Finn and Jake's cover is blown while in the Land of the Dead because Jake loudly farts, which also happened in "Death in Bloom".

72. The place where Mr. Fox explains the perception mechanics of the afterlife is the exact same location as the River of Forgetfulness from "Death in Bloom", which, as it turns out, was imaginary.

These are sort of out of order at the end because I was adding stuff to the Twitter thread as it got discovered. That’s all for now!

#adventure time #together again #finn the human #jake the dog #lorepost

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xbellaxcarolinax · 3 years

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Knew Him Well

Pairing: Hvitserk x Plus-size reader

Word Count: 2664

Warnings: Sexual themes

Summary: As a goddess, you knew everything about him.

Thanks to @shannygoatgruff for beta reading.

Beautiful moodboard by @flowers-in-your-hayr

AN: So I kinda broke my writers block with this one. This was a request I wrote for the lovely @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie as promised. It’s my first time writing for Hvitserk, but it’s entirely in the point of the reader. I really hope you like it 🥺❤️

As always, I tagged those who might be interested.

...

You knew him well.

You knew of his heart's desires, his pains, his joys, his failures. You knew his likes and dislikes, what he loved and what he did not.

Hvitserk was a simple mortal. He loved apples.

When you allowed the frozen rivers and skeleton trees to burst forth again with life, apples were among the first you pushed to grow ripe.

You watched him often in his youth.

He had small chubby hands then, always reaching up towards the skies. His tiny fingers would spread in futile attempts to snatch a bright red apple that hung just a few feet above him.

Usually, there was always someone to reach one for him. Sometimes it was Siggy, pushing herself on her toes to please the little prince with the sweet fruit. Sometimes it was Floki, the gangly man easily plucking two from a branch with a smile. And sometimes it was his mother whenever she decided to pay her second son some attention, her fox-like face pinching in concentration while deciding which apple would be best to eat.

This time, no one was around to help.

He pouted, baby arms crossed over his chest in discontent.

You remembered his green eyes, bright against his dirt-covered face from a morning of mischief with his brother.

You pitied him.

A simple wave of your hand and the tree suddenly shook its branches, dancing in the gentle wind. A perfect apple landed by his small feet. It was a deep shade of red, rich like blood.

You smiled at his sudden squeals of delight.

He reached for it in glee, hands clumsily wiping the dirt away before taking a hefty bite with tiny teeth. He chewed once, then twice before his curious eyes spotted you. He took a few steps forward, searching behind the large base of the tree for your figure.

He caught sight of you. Your eyes were an impossible hue and your skin glowed brighter than the sun.

A goddess.

But you disappeared as quickly as you came, the scent of wildflowers lingering in the breeze.

He was only five, not fully capable of understanding the memory, but he'd never forgotten it. And neither did you.

...

You knew him well.

You watched him grow more curious as the seasons changed, watched how his tiny hands were finally able to firmly grip a sword without it slipping from his fingers.

He was a man now, long-limbed and broad-shouldered. His hair had grown, always neatly braided down his back by serving girls. A lopsided grin hung from his lips at any given moment, his talented fingers dancing over the smooth skin of his many conquests. But his eyes remained the same, bright green against his pale skin.

He was a man with an appetite that craved for more than apples.

He craved women.

The finest mortal women of Midgard easily caught his eye. Thick or thin, willing or not, it did not matter to him.

But it mattered to you. A goddess.

The sound of your voice commanded the earth to bloom green after a long winter, and your golden apples fed the gods their eternal youth. Power sizzled through your fingertips like blazing fire and yet you were not immune to jealousy, a fault that all the gods have endured.

Envy was unknown to you. There was no reason to be acquainted. You had everything you could want: eternal youth, immortality, power. These things had been enough.

But it was the women he bedded that had your stomach churning and your lips set in a frown. The countless women sprawled under him, legs wrapped around his hips with toes curling in the air. You'd sneer, the smallest hints of rage filling you enough to create a spark.

You wanted to strip the earth bare, strip away the beauty held by the women that he chased. But you would not punish the earth, nor the women for the faults of one man. One mortal man.

Still, you were not angry with him.

When the mortals of Kattegat congregated on festival days building altars and sacrificing their animals to appease the gods during the summer solstice, he worshipped you, pouring rich cider over your altar and muttering the words he practiced with his queen mother.

Bless our trees heavy with a sweetness that bears us through the winter cold.

You listened to his prayers, and the Autumn harvest swelled with ripened apples before Skadi laid the first frosts of winter.

You continued to watch him.

He took to journeying across foreign seas for fame, riches, and more women. He was in his prime, his features blooming with youth that would never glow the same way again.

It saddened you.

...

"You know him well." The Allfather appeared beside you, his hoarse voice erupting from deep within his chest. His black cloak billowed like thick smoke from under him.

His presence used to startle you back when you were a younger goddess, unaware of his nature. Now you've grown used to his silent footfall.

"I do." You said, your throat tightening as you watched how Hvitserk suffered. “I admire him.”

The older god regarded you for a moment before peering down towards Midgard. He watched as the young man vomited over himself, shifting quickly to huddle into a corner. His hair, damp from the harsh rains, made his eyes appear wild, like a wounded beast caught in a trap.

"Admire his weakness?" The Allfather questioned.

"His strengths." You corrected, daring to glance at the king of the gods. He raised an ancient hand to stroke down the length of his graying beard. He did not miss the harshness in your tone as hidden as it was. You were as sharp as knives.

"He is a troubled mortal," was all he said.

"Wronged by his own brothers." You reasoned. It was no wonder Hvitserk turned to wild herbs for comfort.

"Indeed." He agreed, shifting his godly gaze back to you, the blue of his eye deeper than the oceans belonging to Ràn. "I had favored his father once. Perhaps there is a reason you favor his son." He spoke as if he knew of things that you did not know of. Perhaps he did.

You remained silent, not knowing much else to say.

"You want to go to him," The king of the gods knew. "So go."

You held your basket tightly in your hands, your knuckles turning white against your golden skin from the pressure. You had wanted to go to him for so long, only allowing yourself the one encounter so many years ago. Gods did not mingle with mortals often.

But you knew Hvitserk was delirious. He would think of your presence as nothing but a hallucination. It would have to do.

The Allfather chuckled, his hand outstretched expectantly. You quickly reached into your woven basket to place a golden apple in his cold palm, watching how his large fingers curled over it. It was not for him. He was king of the gods, he did not fret over youthfulness as his wife did.

"Please send Frigg my love." The words barely left your berry-colored lips before he disappeared.

You turned back towards Midgard. Hvitserk was now asleep, limbs twitching and eyes rolling under his dark lids.

You went to him.

...

You had grown bold.

You visited him on many nights, watching him sleep. Your hand would gently caress his cheeks, smoothing down the arch of his sweaty brows as he dreamed of countless horrors. The foul murder of a woman. The burning of another.

You pitied him.

His eyes would barely open, lashes splitting apart to gaze at you. But he could not see you, not truly. Still, you would smile at him, pushing his stringy locks away from his face, and he’d fall back into a fitful slumber. You’d kiss his skin and leave by dawn, your touch remaining on his skin like a whisper once he woke.

Hvitserk had recuperated under your godly touch after a few weeks, waning himself away from the wild herbs that destroyed his body and mind.

But he no longer searched the trees for your apples, nor did he pour golden cider over your altar. He did not burn offerings in your name, nor whisper his prayers. He was lost as if caught at sea in a raging storm. He did not know his purpose, and without purpose, he would achieve nothing.

He had been a berserker once, a powerful warrior in battle. He had much to be proud of. Now he was but a mere soul wandering Midgard like a ghost.

He no longer believed.

And you pitied him once more.

…

You visited him again. It would be the last time.

"I know you well." Your voice, so simple in the realm of the gods, was like a bird song in his ears.

Hvitserk gawked at you, mouth open like a fish in a clear stream. He jumped up, feet now planted firmly over the soft grass of his favorite meadow.

He was a bit older, though not by much. His eyes were not as bright as you had known them to be, a dull green that held countless stories. He kept his hair pulled back recently, tightly bound towards his nape with a leather band. His fine tunic hid the worst of the battle scars, thin lines of healed skin barely peeking through the collar. Signs of a warrior.

You smiled, taking a step towards him. You were not wearing any shoes, your toes digging into the familiar earth. Fresh regrowth and new flowers bloomed after your every step. He noticed.

His eyes took in your bare feet, traveling up the length of your thick calves, your curvaceous hips, and your large chest until finally settling on your eyes. He swallowed. They were an impossible hue.

"Who are you?" He squinted, though he did not know whether it was from the glare of the sun or your powerfully glowing skin. "A ghost?"

A chuckle bubbled past your lips as you reached into your basket full of ripe apples. You plucked the brightest one, tossing it to him. He caught it easily.

"My name is Idun." You answered with the name mortals had given you centuries ago.

Hvitserk silently inspected the apple in his calloused hands. It was a deep shade of red, rich like blood. The fruit was fragrant and smooth to the touch, his fingers carefully grazing over the delicate red skin. His eyes went back to you.

"I remember." He finally said, eyes twinkling as they did when he was a child. Those were the eyes you knew. “I remember you.” His voice held a note of recognition, his mind searching through the memories from long ago.

The blood-red apple at his feet and the glow of your skin. The hue of your eyes and the smell of wildflowers. He remembered.

"I've watched you your whole life," You told him, your thin dress billowing with the gentle breeze, "I have shared your joys and your pains, dear Hvitserk. You are not alone." The smile that stretched the corners of your mouth was a sad one, but he did not notice. All he could see was your ethereal beauty.

His lips moved as if to speak but he found himself stunned by the goddess before him.

“I came to spend the night with you if you desire it.” You offered your hand to him and he did not hesitate in taking it.

…

His hands worshiped you.

His fingers dug into your full hips tightly, enough to leave bruises if not for your godly resilience.

You moved above him, up and down, gently then rapidly, giving him exactly what he desired. You whispered in his ear of his successes, blessing him with the fruitful future he deserved.

His lips traced heat over your skin, tongue teasing the jewels that hung from your ears. His fingers lingered in the strands of your hair, holding you flush against him.

You loved him, you realized. You had for years.

But it could never be. Dawn would come and you’d swiftly make your way back to the realm of the gods, watching him once again from afar.

It would have to be enough.

He filled you, a guttural groan escaping his throat as he held you close. Your bountiful chest molded perfectly against him as he lowered you both over the warm furs. The signs of sleep passed over his eyes and a lazy smile curled on his lips.

Dawn arrived faster than you had hoped.

You peeled away from him, setting his arm over his lean stomach. You cast him one last look, admiring how the dying fire made his skin glow like a god, before disappearing.

The sun placed itself high in the sky when his eyes opened next. He shifted, his nose picking up the scent of wildflowers. He looked over his shoulder, hoping to find you beside him but was greatly disappointed. You had left at dawn as you said you would.

The furs were cold where you once were. His fingers reached out, searching for the warmth he knew would not be there. But there was something that caught his attention.

His fingers grazed against a smooth surface, hidden under the furs. He ripped them off, his eyes settling over the golden apple you left behind.

…

The summer solstice began.

Altars were built for the gods. Animals were sacrificed and offerings burned. The air was filled with the sweet scent of worship.

You watched Hvitserk at your altar pouring rich cider over the offerings burned in your name. He whispered his prayers again with hopeful fervor.

You smiled. He believed again.

…

An older woman wept beside a funeral pyre, the body of her deceased husband igniting under the heat of violent flames. The smoke rose, swiftly taking his soul into the afterlife. His son and daughter comfort their mother, tears slipping down their cheeks.

You pitied them. Perhaps you pitied yourself, too.

“He is dead?” The Allfather asked, peering down toward Midgard. It was a useless question. He was king of the gods, he knew all. His two ravens sat obediently on each of his shoulders, beady black eyes searching down below.

“Yes.” You said, your voice monotone. “He fell in battle.”

“He was a good mortal,” The king of the gods commented, “But a mortal, nonetheless.” Mortal. You could not keep Hvitserk from aging. Your golden apples were not made for human consumption.

“Yes.” You repeated, watching how high the smoke traveled from his pyre. You could nearly touch it if you stretched your arm out toward the skies.

“Hvitserk.” You heard his wife wail. The name would be a memory now. You would remember him in his best days, when he was in the prime of his youth, green eyes bright and a grin that could conquer all of Midgard.

You had almost forgotten the Allfather was beside you, his looming presence not enough to deter your attention away from the funeral. He placed his spindly fingers on your shoulder. It was the only comfort he could give.

“He will serve me well when the time comes.” He promised. His words did not lift your spirits. He gazed back towards the grave filled with riches befitting Hvitserk’s station. “You knew him well.” He added before he disappeared, his two ravens flying off to collect more knowledge in unknown places.

You peered down below again, your eyes catching sight of a familiar glint. Buried among gold and silver trinkets was your golden apple, shining fiercely despite the overcast day.

You did not think you could cry. Nothing had ever moved you to tears before. You felt a foreign prickling behind your eyes. Tears filled to the brim until you no longer had the strength to hold them back.

Gold ran down your cheeks in painted streaks.

You knew him well.

...

@didiintheblog @a-mess-of-fandoms @leilabeaux @shannygoatgruff @inforapound @fuchsiagrasshopper @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @grimeundglow

@doctorwhoandfairytaillover

#vikings fanfic #vikings hvitserk #hvitserk x reader #hvitserk x plus size reader #marco ilso #deans ch ch cherrypie #reader insert #vikings one shot

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ps-i-dont-even-know · 3 years

Text

Devil may cry headcanons

You know I wasn't expecting you put a lot of Kyrie stuff in this one but I couldn't help it. Also there's dadgil in here because I really love it, sorry for no young Dante and Vergil I'm running out of ideas since I can't remember most of my childhood. Also for those who are interested, I’m thinking of starting taking request/ask for headcanons and writing, possibly drawing but their not the best, but I need to work stuff out at the moment.

Sometimes when Vergil has a mission near Nero and Kyrie, he stops by their house

The first time he did this was shocking to Nero, not only was Vergil there, but V and Urizen was there too, and it was going to be extremely ridiculous to explain this to Kyrie

And he knew how this was go and how she is protective over Nero since losing her brother and nearly losing Nero.

"Nero, who's at the... door", " Oh, um Kyrie I would like to introduce you to my dad, er … Dads?", "Your, Dads?", "Look its complicated and a long story, anyway this is my main Dad, Vergil, he's kind of nice but doesn't really talk that much. This is my dad's human half, V, he's nice, likes poems and has animals, strange one that is. And lastly is my dads demon half, um I'm not sure if he's nice or not since he raised the demon tree", "Oh that's nice, by the way which one was the one that hurt you", "Wait, Kyrie, No!"

Nero has to hold Kyrie back from trying to attack Vergil, mostly for her safety. Of course she doesn't forgive Vergil at first, because of what he has done and while she gives off a nice demeanor, her glares and scowls are anything buy warm and welcoming. Which Vergil approves of Kyrie dating Nero, having someone who will fight for you instead of turning tail when something bad happens

After a while Kyrie finally forgives Vergil, because she shouldn't hold grudges that are already in the past, and to move on. But she does tell him that if he were to do something like this again she would not hesitate to hurt him, and Vergil knowing that it would be impossible for her to hurt him agrees. And the tension is finally gone and she is more welcoming to him. Which is great for Nero's case since he felt like he was being smothered in between all their glaring and the tension.

Kyrie also makes apple pie when Vergil visits, since apples are one of his favorite fruits and because the one time he visit she made some for the orphans and she asked if he would like a slice and at first he said no, but soon gave in and had a slice, well maybe two or three but he wont admit to it.

He will also go grocery shopping with her when he has free time and Nero is busy, only to help find ingredients for new food Kyrie wants to try, and to get to know each other better.

On holidays when Vergil and Nero will help Kyrie cook some of the food. Sometimes Dante will try to sneak some sweets only for his hand to be hit by a spatula as Kyrie tells him, he needs to wait or he'll spoil his dinner. In which Dante's pouting, Nero and Nico are giggling, and Vergil is smirking.

Nero has Kyrie fix his jackets when he comes back from missions sometimes, normally he will tell her he doesn't want to put work on her, but she wants to do something nice for him. She also teachers Nero how to sew and stitch so when there are days she can't fix he can do it himself, which took a while but he got it down and not only does he fox his jacket but also helps make clothing for some of the kids, sure his stitching or sewing not the best but they love it nonetheless. Kyrie has also has sewn cat like ears on one of Nero jackets without him knowing until Dante was laughing at him, he chewed him out but still kept the ears on his hoodie because he likes it.

Kyrie got Nero into cooking and remodeling house shows, sometimes he’ll turn it on just to see how the house changed and kind of debated on doing it with their house. What surprised him was the time he came into the living room where the tv was and saw Kyrie watching crime investigator shows, saying she finds its interesting about how they solve the problems, which Nero also got into, along with most of the kids.

The kids will dog pile both Dante and Vergil, Dante loves it, play fighting with the kids and stuff. Vergil on the other hand he doesn’t expect it and isn’t used to the contact, so he gets stiff and weirded out.

Dadgil

He got a school suspension, because well doing his first judgement cut on an apple sitting on a desk while cutting the apple but also the desk was something he wasn't supposed to do, and also because there not supposed to bring weapons to school

Nero had brought the Yamato, Cerberus, Nevan, and Agni & Rudra to his school show and tell, because he want to knock the socks off the kids who brought in pets, toys, or food from a different country

Vergil was frustrated that he had gotten a call from the school that his son brought weapons to school and was being suspended because of it and was mad that Dante let the Nero bring the weapons to school in the first place because it was Dante’s day to take the kid to school and he was busy

He was proud that Nero had done a judgment cut for the first time even if it was tiny and told him not to do this again.

Nero technically has two dads. Vergil and V, he loves when V visits him because of his strange pets, and the way he acts, he's mysterious but kind and loves his poems

Nero will not sleep unless V or Vergil reads him something be it a poem or story, and will try to stay up when Vergil is out on a mission. Being read to helps Nero sleep

On that subject of sleeping, Nero has frequent nightmares. It might be something he has gotten from Vergil, but there will be times where Nero leaves his bed and walks to his dad's room asking if he can sleep in bed with him, and half awake Vergil will agree. Sometimes Vergil will softly sing to Nero because after his nightmares it takes him a while to get back to sleep, and god forbid if Dante heard him singing he knows that he will not let him live this down.

Nero wanted to learn an instrument because his dad knows how to play a violin, and his uncle knows how to play both the drums and guitar. Though the problem was he didn't know which one to go with, there was many to choose from, he kind of stuck with a trombone since it slides a lot and the style is kind of it is great, also he can get away with spitting on Dante.

Nero has only two fears, spirits/ghost and frogs. Its mostly Dante's fault for letting Nero watch paranormal horror movies at night. And Nero doesn't know why he is afraid of frogs, maybe its the way they look or something he doesn't know nor care.

When he was at the park with Nico and Kyrie, did his fear of frogs really show. They were over by the pond and Nico comes over to Nero with the frog in her hand, only for him to scream and start running, while Nico chase after him giggling. Kyrie was also giggling watching Nero run from Nico was too funny.

Nero also begged his dad and uncle for a pet, he didn't care what it was as long as its not a frog. Dante was close to getting Nero a hellhound or Cerberus, but Vergil literally had to stab smack some sense in his brother. They decided on ferret, they didn't want a cat or bird because V has one and they weren't sure if its territorial or not. Hamster and Guinea pigs are tiny and live I cates not much fun there same with Lizards. Dogs are a hassle and no one wants to clean up after it, so a Ferret is what they decided on.

Nero absolutely loves it and its a noddle he can wrap it around his neck and wiggle the creature. He decided on naming it Furret cause it looked like the Pokémon and he couldn't think of anything else

Every year for fathers day Nero will try and make Vergil something, he's make weird cup looking thing that you cant drink out of it because of holes, macaroni art, drawings, cards filled with glitter galore, paper hats, the list goes on and on. But he tried making those flower thing Dante makes, he asked him how he did it and Dante responds it comes to him naturally which doesn't help at all. So he tries only for nothing to appear to his disappointment, he tries and tries until he gets the tiniest and wimpy looking thing. But happily gives it to his dad who really appreciates it.

Vergil's refrigerator is covered with child like drawings given to him from Nero, he loves them and encourages Nero to do more and that he will be the greatest artist.

When Nero first met Patty was the same day Dante was given the mission to babysit her. She was kind of bratty and annoying at first and he didn't like that she would take all of Dante's attention. They argued a lot and Dante would yell at them to stop because it was giving him a headache and they should try to get along. After having to take Patty to retrieve her family money he did start to get along with her and they started to both annoy Dante together.

Nero absolutely loves dinosaurs and has loads of toys of them, and when he was going to the Zoo with Vergil he told him he was excited to see Dinosaurs there. Only for Vergil to tell them that there aren't any dinosaurs at the zoo. (This happened to a friend of mine).

Trish and Lady likes to take Nero out shopping, normally he doesn’t mind going with them, as long as he gets something out of it. Poor Dante and his debt when he finds out how much stuff they bough for Nero

Dante watching Nero while Vergil out can lead to many, many, different ways, and Vergil dreads all of them. Dante could feed Nero only sweets and junk food instead normal healthy food, Dante could probably lose Nero somewhere be it the park or his own damn shop, Dante could probably get Nero in danger because of the demons that show up to his shop and destroys it.

Nero does get into a lot of fights at school, half of them are kids making fun of him others are he’s a hard head and doesn’t let go of grudges. The school is very frustrated in how Nero always gets into these fights, but are nervous of his dad, because of his stubbornness and how he knows that half the time its not Nero’s fault. Like one time a teacher and Nero argued about how Demons do exist and how his dad, uncle, and two aunts go out and defeat. It resulted Nero getting embarrassed in front of the class and being sent to the office and a very angry Vergil that nearly killed the teacher.

#devil may cry vergil #vergil devil may cry #devil may cry #devil may cry headcanon #dante sparda #dmc dante #devil may cry dante #dante son of sparda #vergil dmc #vergil sparda #vergil #nero sparda #nero imagine #nero devil may cry #dmc nero #nero #dadgil

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

In The Woods Somewhere

Warning: country shit, you know? they kill a coyote...

this is just one long ass metaphor so...

Her scream pierces the warmth of the late autumn afternoon. Above her lazy ravens ascend to the sky, puffing little irritated calls to one another as they move away from the screeching child. At the commotion, the woods themselves seem to shift, annoyed with the agony-laced sound. Old tree branches splintering and the soft, unsatisfied chatter of life deep within.

She is seven, standing where the branches reach with hungry fingers out to her. Where her father tells her their property ends. The threat of what happens to curious children who trespass in the woods hums deeply in her veins. She’s drawn to the memory of the boy they found in the river last summer and standing around the campfire. Leaning into her father’s leg as he told stories about the beasts deep in the woods. Murderous, lustful things that will take carelessly. Going on even when her mother had hummed disapprovingly warning him with the simple mumble of his first name.

He’d turned to her hushed and high on the same adrenaline bucking her knees out from underneath her body. Foxes and Coyotes, he’d told her, they deceive the woods for what they truly are. “Smaller than what you think,” Roy whispered, smiling as she pressed closer. Curious but afraid, seeking his warmth as much as his comfort but begging for more. “Look like a wolf, you’ve seen a wolf haven’t you? Coyotes look an awful lot like them but brown and they’re ravenous little bastards.” There’s an intelligent glint to their eyes, unmistakable and haunting. It’s easier to conceive nature as consuming and destroying. But it’s simply untrue and to find yourself standing face-to-face with it is a daunting, demeaning task. To see in nature’s eye your own insignificance.

She hadn’t understood that word, ravenous, but had heard her father shout out into the field something about bastards before to know it was not good. He’d never meant it as any sort of compliment. He’d taken her hand a few nights later, guided her out to the porch, and held her skinny body against him. Shushed her when she’d tried to ask him what they were doing, trusting him blindly as a child does, but fearful of the depths of the night spread out before her. The clear sky above their heads hidden by the roof so she’d held him a little tighter. Heart pounding in her chest.

The first sounds just like a dog, her head swivels to identify exactly where it’s coming from. The second is shrill, sends a shiver down her spine and her fingers tighten on Roy’s shirt. It makes the hairs on her body stand tall, rocking her thin limbs in shivers. More erupt, some sounding so close she fears the creatures the sound emits from could snap and grasp her in its jaw from here.

“Coyotes,” her father rumbles, she can hear the smile in his voice.

They howl on and off, their presence so near. Feverish, she can feel it and knows there’s an untold but not inherently unused threat in animals that lurk just past the extension of the porch steps.

Despite the rolling cool air of September washing over Virginia, Haley is out in the backyard letting the sweater her mother had tucked around her fall off her shoulders. Jessica’s old overalls too short for her long legs, making them perfect for afternoons spent rummaging about in the dirt and grass. Her bare feet stomping against the cool grass as she runs, eager to just be. To feel the wind snap against her cheeks and the plush grass give under her feet.

Something rattles on the far edge of the yard, too far for her to see from where she is. It makes her pulse jump, but not pound as it does now in her little chest. A bird caged between ribs, beating its wings against her insides to make her stomach tighten with apprehension. It does not sing out, does not warn her of the danger she encroaches upon.

When she finds the live, snarling and snapping, creature ensnared in the fence but she’s not sure what it is. The sounds it makes, teeth barred but all mixed signals as it puts weight on its injured side and whimpers softly. Only to meet her every cautious move with a throaty growl but her curiosity is piqued and her ability to perceive the threat is diminished by it.

The animal, the size of a dog, snaps at her. Barring stark white teeth, sharp canines, covered in its own blood. It hunches low, pulled up on its front legs enough to distract her from the bangled sight of its left hind leg. To pretend to be every bit of a threat that it might be if not wounded. It moves too much and she cries out again, flinching when it whimpers as it falls limply back to the ground. Struggling to pull itself back up. The animal stills, laying on its side and heaving deep breathes.

That’s when she sees the blood.

She screams, oblivious to the ravens that take to the sky, black against the oranges of the sunset.

She’s played along this fence a thousand times, knows to not mess with it. The barbed wire won’t hurt her, Roy had struggled to explain this but she’d understood, in the end, that if she messed with it unnecessarily it could. Its intent is to keep the cows in the neighbor’s yard from wandering into theirs. She’d watched the cows brush up against the edges, scratching themselves against the edges that would tear through her pale, thin skin.

She’d touched the edges and, while they’re not inherently blade-like, she’d still marveled at how sharp they are. That was the end of it. But now she looks at the wounded animal at her mercy, succumbing to its fate be whatever it is. Sees the wire fence wrapped around the animal’s leg. The serrated flesh caused by the barbs and where the animal had been half-successful in chewing through its leg.

“Haley!” Roy runs to her, pulling her away from the animal but her eyes stay glued to it. The way it struggles to lift itself up to snap at the new threat, to bare its teeth and present itself as something it most certainly is not. Roy sighs when he speaks, placing his hands on his hips and shaking his head at the sight. “Nosing around where you shouldn’t have been,” Roy mumbles to it. He turns back to Haley, running the palm of his hand through his hair. “It’s just a coyote,” he explains, glancing back when the wounded animal falls back to the ground with a tired, pitiful snort.

“It’s hurt,” she says. She’s watching flies land on its back, moving over the blood. The wound is infected and the leg is useless. She knows what happens to lame animals. Feels the bird within her chest shake, beating against her lungs until they ache. “What are you going to do to it?” she asks but she already knows. Wild things aren’t tamed. They snip and bite no matter how you love them. She knows seeing the pink of the bones peeking through blood matted fur what her father will do but she’s blinded. She’s hopeful for this creature. Thinks of her kind father and the gentle way he bandages her wounds and knows he can save it. He can if he’ll only try

“Go back to the house,” Roy instructs

Haley shakes, “no.”

Roy turns around, caught off guard by the sudden conviction from his youngest daughter. The child that seems to follow him so blindly, her loyalty so deep it often scares him. But he remembers being her age, remembers looking at his father with that same look. Having curated this idea that he could save the world. It’s amazing to be on the receiving end of but it’s always a matter of time before every child learns the truth. That their fathers are just men. Horrible, awful men and feels a little light in him die. “Look away, Haley.”

She sees him reach for his belt, the belt he keeps on him while working outside. The only thing separating them from the creatures in the woods. She runs. Her feet hit the Earth hard and fast, screaming for her mother. Begging someone to see reason.

When the hammer strikes she falls as if the bullet has been lodged into her spine. Tears sting her eyes, pouring down her cheeks in rage, as she pulls herself back up. Her mother steps out onto the porch and Haley throws herself into her arms, sobbing and choking around the story. Missing details and so angry, so broken that he hadn’t even tried. Her father hadn’t even tried to help the coyote.

Her mother holds her, soothes her tears and they sit in the kitchen. Her sobs dissipating until she’s just hiccupping, face buried in her mother’s smooth skin. “Why didn’t he help the coyote?” she asks. Mothers always seem to hold the secrets of fathers and Haley knows this is no exception.

Her mother rubs her back, “sometimes, baby, no amount of help in the world can save something lost. Sometimes the only thing you can do is… mercy.” Her mother presses a kiss to her head, “daddy was showing the coyote mercy, Haley. That was compassionate. That was all he could do.”

She’d seen the blood on her father’s hands after he returned. Watched from the safe cocoon of her mother’s arms as he’d come in the kitchen door, letting it bang and clatter shut. “Daddy?” she hiccups. She presses closer to her mother, drowning out the memory of the snarl and hiss of the coyote with the sweet scents of her mother. Hoping the squeeze of her mother’s arms around her shaking body wrings her dry of the animal. “What did you do to him?”

Roy washes his hands, carefully working the blood off his skin and grunting to communicate he’s heard Haley but isn’t ready to respond. He doesn’t face his wife and child until he’s clean of it, the blood washed from his hands and from the sink. He dries his arms off slowly, taking his time to gather his response. Settling the back of his hips against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, he looks at his daughter. Sees the tear tracks drying on her cheeks and that look in her eyes. He knows all too well the importance that will be placed on his next few words, sees the glint of a core memory forming.

She’ll base worth and sense off his next words.

He crouches down in front of her, taking one of her soft, small hands in his own. “What comes from the woods, must be returned.” All things must be returned. It’s why people are buried or singed to ash, to be turned back into the Earth. The way that Roy had dragged that Coyote as deep into the woods, as far he dared. Such is the way of nature, all things that are taken must be compensated for, and with his fingers curled into the cool main of that limp coyote, Roy had thought of his too curious daughter. Of the way she’d find herself back to that mangled heap of twisted fencing, staring at the animal's congealed blood. The curdled darkened crimson left on the cleared dirt. How long until she searched further? Sought to find better answers to questions she can’t form coherently with her tongue, little legs driving her to the trees.

They always talk back, the trees, and Roy had known what they’d say. Knew they’d beckoned her into their depths. He’d taken from the woods and they would take from him. With a sigh, Roy places the worn skin of his palm on Haley’s pale cheek. “I took him home,” he whispers. “Even wild things have homes.”

She’s fourteen when she meets a boy who moves like the coyotes that trot through the yard. The ones her father shakes his head at and tells her must be sick, they shouldn’t be out in the light like this. That familiar glint in his eyes, the impulsivity of what comes next is unknown to both but his shoulders flex. Long thin limbs waiting for her to move first, to establish if he’ll run or fight. Not the sort to turn his back to her. He’s looking at the crosshairs aimed at his chest and he knows any sudden movement will be his last.

She’s fourteen and found another wild creature she’s convinced she can change.

Sees that pink marrow, the dark crimson pooling and weaving through the tall grass. The fencing wrapped tightly around his lame limb, his dark eyes looking back at her and waiting to find what she’ll do next. If she’ll cut him free, withstanding his snarled bites until he falls limp with exhaustion and defeat. Heaving those panting breaths. She’ll wrap him in a blanket and drag him home. Shush his whimpers while she bandages his wounds.

She should have done what her father had and put a bullet in his head while it was still soon enough to call it mercy. Dragged his tired, broken body to the woods. Do as her father had instructed all those years before and return him to the woods. To his home because that is not her.

She’s seventeen, screaming for her father. Another mangled thing bleeding out in the field in their backyard, propped up against that old fencing. His blood soaks into the neck of his t-shirt, the material hardening, as he sits there panting. She’d seen him coming, his tall figure working its way through the woods. From her bedroom window, she’d waved at him, getting up to go greet him. When she runs out onto the porch she throws the light on, her beaming smile dying as she’d searched for him.

Roy tears through his backyard for his daughter trying to find the danger his mind buzzes with. He’s not surprised to find Aaron cradled to her chest, face a swell of wounds.

“What do I do?” she asks. She’s too old, knows better than to ask him to handle the matter. She knows what he does to wounded things and she knows he sees Aaron for what he is. He’s beyond saving but that’s a lesson she’ll have to learn on her own. That he’s no different than the coyote, in this very field, that had chewed through its skin. It would have taken its own leg off to escape the fence. How far into the woods would it have made it? On three legs, losing blood, and fighting an infection. How long until infection won out? Until something bigger, something stronger clamped teeth to its neck. Mercy. Not for the hunt but mercy.

Her father and Aaron lock eyes, just as that old coyote had before her father shot it. They share a wordless conversation and Roy turns away, taking with him that coveted mercy.

She’s too innocent.

She’s too hopeful.

There is no mercy in her love and she drags his aching, dying body up to her room. Looks past the infection set into his heart and corrupting his mind. She sees life in something dying so painfully slow, unable or unwilling to see desperation.

She brushes the back of his fingers against Aaron’s nose, watches his lips twitch as he slips into a fitful sleep. Lips falling and jaw relaxing under her touch until his breath ghosts over her cheek. He inches closer, making soft little noises. Wounded, punched sounds as he searches for something in his sleep. Finding it in her, wrapping his arms over her hips and pressing his face closer to her own.

She feels him relax in her hold and closes her eyes.

She’s taken something from the woods, knows this thing that aches so openly against her breast is not hers to have. It is simply a matter of time before the woods call him back. Before he slithers back to his tree and she’s left with the bitter mouthful of their actions. A sweet thing to undertake but soured as they lay with it.

He’s a wild thing she thinks she can tame. She can file down his teeth but it’ll be too late when he hurts her. He’s too big and she’s small and you just can’t change a man like him. He’s going to hurt her, kill her, and by the time he realizes what he’s done, it’ll be too late.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #haley hotchner

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dwordza · 3 years

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Fuck it, lets be gods

Dream: God of Mystery. Controls the enigmas of the mortal realm. Ironically, has close to no power in the pantheon, and is Extremely pissed about it. Minor God of Control, Power, and Thieving. If you and/or a loved one has recently found one of your most prized possessions stolen, there’s a chance the Mystery God has found himself a new plate of meat to play with. Tread with caution, and keep your enemies close. No one likes the God of Mystery.

Schlatt: God of Secrecy. Every whisper you share, he hears. Frequently visits those having affairs, just to fuck with them. Also visits those suffering from addiction. Minor God of alcohol, drug usage, and rams. If you feel as though you’ve become something no one forgives, it’s likely the Secret God has touched your soul with bile. Be not afraid when you die, he welcomes all with a smile and a swig of whiskey.

Techno: God of Trust. Be mindful to never use those around you, he will tear you in twine. Aside from being a God, he also acts as a servant for the Angel. Minor God of loyalty, war, and revenge. The servant of blood is not to be fooled with. A savage beast born from mans greatest ailment: his own dishonesty. Do not lie to a pig, for they will never find your corpse.

Philza: God of Creation. All mountains and streams are made of the same gods tears. Those who follow the Creator are forever under his control, and even in death do they serve him. The Angel of Death, the Blood God, the destructor. Atoms cannot be destroyed or created, and you must get your building blocks from somewhere. Minor God of birds, death, and dreams. Those who hope are often imbued with the spirit of the Blood God. But do not try to escape his afterlife, he’s a firm believer in “You Only Live Once”.

Ranboo: God of Duality. The cost of silken fists is a broken memory. An eye for an eye is what the Dual God lives by, forever in a constant battle with himself. He’s haunted by apparitions of the Mystery God, cursed to have sacred hymns whispered into his psyche. Those touched by his careful hand frequently forget their names. Wrote the 3 Great Tomes, but lost 2. Minor God of memory, cats, and the Sky.

Wilbur: God of Possession. He has his things and you have yours, keep it that way. Those touched by his demanding grasp often hoard and steal. He is defiant towards the pantheon, cast out by his own Father and cursed to roam the earth as a wandering Bard. Minor God of music, explosives, and performance. Any performer or star wears a pendant of the Possessive God on their neck, for good luck. His unfinished symphony lives on in the demigods he raised, and in a siren mistress.

Tommy: Demi-god of Attachment. Before Tommy, the world was very bleak. Only the gods felt connections, and from the Creation God bore a human child capable of caring. He sent him down to be raised by his eldest son, the Possessive God, and to be brought into his godhood by age 16. This did not go as planned. The Possessive God disappeared without a trace, and the Mystery God took Tommy under his wing. Tommy has been cloaked by Mystery, and left to fend for himself with no friends in sight.

Tubbo: Demi-god of Devotion. Tubbo met a lone boy in the forest, and climbed a rickety tower to where a demigod reached for his home. Together they’ve become great soldiers and best friends, working with others to fight back against the tyrants who wish to hurt them. Visited by the Servant of Blood and brought to their knees by the Mystery God, they only wish to find peace alone with themselves. Tubbo has visions of a Secret God, a goat man who leads him to make decisions to favor the very gods he wishes to know. The God of Creation shows distance towards his children, but to Tubbo the most.

Fundy: Demi-god of Trickery. Cursed into a fox body with the brain of a genius, Fundy wanders the mortal world searching for someone who will simply listen to him. Luckily, with the help of the Dual God, Fundy found himself to be a bipedal beast with glowing eyes and great, sharp teeth. He now serves the Dual God and keeps his many tomes in pristine order. Though sometimes, when the Gods sleep and the town dreams, he stares into the sky and longs to find his lost family. Fundy has lately been seen drinking with a man people can only describe as “severely intoxicated, like really man go home.”

Quackity: Bard of Corruption. A humble butcher hellbent on murdering the Servant of Blood, Quackity uses his supernatural qualities to morph his face into another. He frequently takes the mask of the Mystery God, and finds himself the owner of much land simply because he resembles a God. He mocks the Gods, too, creating personas that dirty the Gods names and create propaganda about their intentions. Quackity is very intuitive, extremely smart, and with enough cockiness about him that he can serenade even the coldest hearts with his lovely music. He sold his butcher shop and took himself and his good friend Sapnap on a great journey to find a God willing to fund their operation. And they did.

Karl: God of Prevention. Karl has traveled through time and space trying to stop the terrible things he’s seen, and he’s failed every time he’s tried. Minor God of dance, wealth, and the arts. Karl was so close to resetting again, when a wild bard and an AWOL knight begged him for funding. He... he couldn’t turn them away. He found himself enamored with their jokes and the way they danced around his temple, chasing each other with sticks and small daggers. Karl, for the first time in his eons of living, danced. This timeline wasn’t like the others. In the others, his Bard died. In others, his Knight never left the castle. In the others, he never swung in their embrace and asked them to stay forevermore.

Sapnap: a once loyal knight turned to murder and thieving, Sapnap is a force to be reckoned with. He once dueled the Servant of Blood himself, and would’ve won had it not been for the Servants second wind. For his good fight, the Servant rewarded him with the Axe of Peace, a enchanted weapon created from the Servants very soul. Sapnap sold it to a wandering soldier boy dubbed ‘Theseus’. He followed his fellow Quackity to the temple of Suspension, where they found a lonesome God on the brink of madness. He’s now engaged to said God, along with Quackity, and ferrying him around the world, showing him everything he’s missed cooped up in that temple.

Jack Manifold: The man who escaped the labyrinth, Jack Manifold is as shifty as they come. He was slaughtered by Tommy, and hellbent on revenge he tore his way out of the Creation Gods labyrinth, and started his hunt. Cursed with a capped chain and a broken spirit, even the Servant shakes when he sees Jack Manifold. He’s recently joined the Blood Gods temple, and his triumph in his labyrinth gave him a great deal of leverage. The Blood God himself has given him protection, bidding him to find and kill his youngest son. Jack Manifold plans to do just that, and he’s not going to stop there.

Niki: Niki Nihachu is a woman of great power, protected by the Possessive God and close ally to the Servant. She left her home in ruins and burned the great tree which she had grown to hate, calling upon the Possessive Gods sacred soul to grant her the power of explosion. And grant he did. She now finds herself working with one Jack Manifold and, with the help of the Servant, she’s found the location of the Demi-god Tommy. She plans to assassinate him, becoming the true heiress to the Possessive Gods thrown in the pantheon. She’s had great success, as of late.

Note: in this AU Tommy is one of philzas children, but in a “I created you from nothing” type beat. Tommy isn’t his Blood son, but instead a ball of magic melded into human shape by the Angel. Philza then sent Tommy away to be raised by Wilbur. I came up with this AU when Tommy was still assumed to be Philzas son in canon, and it fits the story well so I’m not gonna change it. Just know: philza is not a “bad dad”, he’s a really cool god who got bored and created a funny little demigod to go and cause problems. He also respectfully bid Jack Manifold, among others, to hunt down his creation bc he’s a Girlboss in this AU lmao.

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meadow-roses · 4 years

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This is Part 1, ✨History✨.

Okay, so I was working on typing up plot stuff for Joden's story that I'm still thinking of a name for, but it's getting really long so I'll post it in parts. :3

Also since this is really early in the story's creation pretty much everything is subject to change, but you get the idea of the general plot. XD

@ascendant-queen 💖

If anyone has any questions feel free to ask 👀

The story is set in a forested landscape, tree dotted grasslands eventually giving way to deep forests climbing up the mountain slopes. The different kinds of animals live in self governing groups, with varying levels of interaction between them.

The smaller critters like mice, rabbits, and squirrels mostly just live in large family groups throughout the entire region south of the Great Pine Woods. They by far make up the majority of the population, and have no uniting ruler.

The cheetahs live in the southern plains, little baronies scattered all around. Their diet consists of fish and smaller birds (? Might change that later haven't decided if the birds are sentient) and the cereal crops they grow. They also trade these grains with the other animals in exchange for goods such as cloth and beads. They love being fancy. They have this system of electing their rulers, but only members of the "nobility" (land owners) ever get voted in because of money stuffs.

The raccoons also form their own society working off the classic monarchy. Their kingdom is built in the Eastern woods, with their homes built up off the ground and literally in the trees. In the most populated villages, rope and stick bridges connect these homes making swinging pathways in the branches. A lot of the smaller creatures choose to make their homes in the roots of the raccoon trees, as their territorial border patrol keeps out aerial predators and the occasional rogue fox. Unlike the cheetahs, the raccoons are small enough they have enemies to worry about, and are known to have an exceptional and disciplined military.

The bear clans live high up in the craggy woods working their gardens, rather indifferent to what happens below and the rumors that they eat their visitors.

The foxes do not have any form of government or organization. Some live in groups and some alone, some pledge a mammal free diet and some hunt their neighbors. As such they are not trusted by anyone. :/

Here is a map I drew up:

A few things are unnamed and the scale is a bit off but you get the general idea of layout. 👍

About twenty years before the story begins:

Down from the Northern pine woods a clan of foxes comes. They are organized, armed, and angry, ready to claim some territory after being chased out of the north by the wolf clans. Most of the southern foxes come to join their cause, pleased at the idea of them having utter lordship over the woods. Skirting around the great cats, they infiltrate the woods to the west and south after establishing themselves in the North. This was done easily with no opposition due to the small critters having no leader. They just swept in and conquered.

With this done they turn their attentions to the East. The raccoons have watched this all happen with great alarm. King Cynric gathered his men in preparation of the attack, but still wasn't ready for the craftiness of the foxes'. They came in great numbers from the south, engaging the king's soldiers in the clash of battle, while stealthy individuals crept past the border guards and set fire to the trees. The wind and dry weather did its work, and the kingdom of raccoons fell to fire and bloodshed. Most died in the fires that destroyed their homes, the remainder of them fled under the guidance of their prince, only to fall at the mercy of their waiting enemies. Unprotected sows and their kits were slaughtered by the sword or captured and enslaved in the ruins of their home and all across the newly conquered forest.

This song really fits the burning of East Wood and Rowan's side of the story.

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Prince Rowan, however, rebelled at the enslavement of his people. With his father the king now gone, he was left the protector of his people and despite his wife's urging, could not lay down in submission. He gathered a small team of close friends and willing boars, bid his wife farewell, and left, hoping to gain more information on the foxes' plans and find a way to free his people. Him and those with him were never heard from again.

The cheetahs watched all this happen around them, and decided not to interfere, but rather formed an uneasy alliance with the foxes. They didn't consider themselves in any danger of being conquered, but weren't bothered by their actions and wanted to avoid the bother of war. The foxes were more than eager to sign peace with the cheetahs, knowing in that their conquest would be secure. It is unknown whether the bears up in their western mountain range are even aware of the dramatic changes to the lower-lands.

The woods are now in an awkward state of affairs, the foxes holding a tyrannical rule over all their subjects. Soldiers are stationed in every town and village to "keep the peace", the inhabitants going about their lives in the fear they or one of their family members will be chosen as the next meal. Most of the Southern foxes still prefer a mammal free diet, but one of the Northern invaders' main objectives is to secure easy prey for consumption.

The "free" creatures are allowed to live their lives "as they would please", but have limited allowance to travel and must give payment at the end of every week to their resident "guardians". This payment can be anywhere from a basket of wheat berries or a bolt of cloth to an older child.

The raccoons have a far stricter control placed over them, as they are viewed more capable of revolt. Scattered across the foxes' open woodless territory small slave towns hold the remnants of Cynric's kingdom. They spend their days working for their masters, boar and sow alike, tending fields, cooking and cleaning, mining, etc. They are kept under strict control with heavy penalties for disobedience. Their meal times are regulated, their sleep times, work times, housing, children, everything. It is in one of these dusty, dead towns Joden grows up in.

His mother is old enough she remembers what life was like in the old kingdom, remembers a life of freedom under the trees. Joden's father died shortly after the foxes' attack, he is told later he was one of the faithful boars that accompanied Prince Rowan for his last stand. She raises Joden on these tales, urging him to never give up the hope that they can one day be free.

It is for his mother's sake Joden's intense optimism grows. Can he truly be considered a slave if he goes about his work with a smile and a song? If he willingly puts on the yoke and carries the load they have required, who is the one truly in control here? They can enslave his body but they cannot enslave his spirit.

As he gets older he also grows bolder. Just being cheerful to lift his mother's spirits is not enough. He wants the entire slave town to be free in the way he is. They all go about their days in unnecessary gloom, only because they lack someone to lead them out of it. By the time he reaches maturity the entire town looks to him as their leader, hoping that someday a hero will come to set them free and lead them home. He stands in for them against the cruelty of their masters, fighting for the justice of his small community of raccoons. This often gets him into a good bit of trouble, which he somehow always manages to get out of and back home to his worried mother.

He meets Twylla when she is relocated from another slave town by stepping in when a few of the slave masters decide to teach the new coon a lesson. The girl had made no grave offense, just a slip in her understanding of the schedule this different camp functioned under. It was a great surprise to her when a random coon detached himself from the troop marching past, and demanded they punish him in her stead. He would take responsibility for the sow and her actions throughout her initiation and teach her obedience to their rules, all her mistakes laid to his shoulders instead. This was agreed to, as they had nothing in particular against the new coon but did enjoy taking out their boredom on Joden who usually escaped from any attempts against him. Twylla really had no idea what to think of any of this. She helped him up off the ground with repeated apologies he gently brushed off. She very willingly trotted along after him as he taught her not only how to function in this new town, but also how to hope. Then later they get married. :3

Jaceryn is the son of a Cheetah land baron. He has been raised in the lap of luxury, his father being the wealthiest of the barons and the cheetah's current elected leader. He is a rather naive boy who has never left his Father's estate, but naturally has big plans on how he will make the world a better place. He has grown up in a world where the foxes have dominion of all the forest outside his Father's control, and this is normal, but he doesn't understand what that means until he sees it for himself. They have little raccoon slaves all over his Father's land that they purchased from the foxes, so the concept of raccoons being a race of slaves is kinda engrained in him. There's no such thing as a "free raccoon".

His mother instructed him to stay on his father's estate when he plays outside, but one day he gets curious like young boys do, and decides to venture into the trees. He really likes the way the forest feels and goes deeper and deeper, thoroughly enjoying himself when he hears voices and decides to investigate. He comes across a raid in a woodland village, the fox overlords collecting their taxes. He sees the children ripped from their mother's arms, the weeping villagers, the carts of goods and the miserable raccoon slaves pulling them, and the jeering, laughing faces of the fox soldiers and the injustice burns within him. It is true the foxes defeated them in battle, so the captives are their spoils of war, but this is unnecessarily cruel oppression and he hates it. He hates that his own people- free people- are doing nothing to change this and he resolves to be the one that frees the slaves. His parents are told this scheme by their proud little thirteen year old and are very quick to try and dissuade him. Not only is this a dangerous task for him to undertake, but this also holds the possibility of starting a war that neither of them wish to fight. Jacer agrees to "abandon" the dream to put his parents fears to rest, but secretly continues plotting and preparing his coup. It would be risky, and he would need to be sneaky. Break into a camp and take out the guards, let the little coons run free…

He went on frequent trips out to the forest to swing around in the branches and practice creeping silently through the underbrush. The other cubs his age wrote him off as a weirdo, so he went alone. His father eventually began to worry about him on these trips, remembering how impulsive his son can be at times. It had been years since Jacer had talked about his quest to end slavery and had shown no signs that he still held that belief so his father thought nothing of purchasing Jacer his own personal slave. This slave's job would be companion and voice of reason and just general personal servant.

This is probably where the actual story would start lol, so all that is setup. XD

I'll share more as I finish writing it, cause I'm really excited about this story. :3

#joden #jacer #text #writing #anthro #original story #original character #oc #cheetah #raccoon #fox #map #if anyone else wants to get tagged in these posts lemme know 👍#deepwood

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grapenamjams · 4 years

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French Knot

Genre: Fluff

Character: Muriel from The Arcana

A/N: I just need to tell you all that I am in love with this mountain man he has my whole heart!

I also wanted to tell you a little bit of my apprentice MC who will be in this story.

Her name is Eliza (she/her). She is 5′2 has brown wavy hair, brown eyes (with specks of green) she also has adorable freckles across her nose, lastly she has a artic fox, named Nell as a familiar who is enchanted to keep cold during the summer and whenever Nell walks she leaves behind snow prints on the ground (think of what Olaf from frozen has lol)

oh! she is good at embroidery hence this stories premise, where she is teaching this big boy how to embroider. sooooo yeah that is my apprentice I hope you like her!

It was another calming day in the forest, the sound of birds filled the air and a rustle or two amongst the brush could be heard. The warm sun combined with a gentle breeze made it the perfect atmosphere for being outside.

Underneath the shade of the trees lay Inanna with her head resting on her large wolf paws as she tried to ignore the white arctic fox that was running around her wanting a chance to play, leaving white paw prints in the green grass. A few feet away from the canine familiars a little ways from the front of the hut, sat Muriel and Eliza both holding their own embroidery hoops. Ever since Eliza told Muriel that she loved to do embroidery when he was teaching her how to carve small animal figurines from wood he wanted to learn.

“I want to learn to do something....you like too.” He said as he picked up his animal figuring suddenly finding something to fix when indeed there was nothing else he could do to it. Eliza spotted the red on the tips of his ears and and happily agreed that she would teach him. Muriel loved arts and crafts, if it was carving into wood, creating protective charms, Ever since he was little, when Asra and him would make masks to sell for the masquerade He liked the feeling of knowing that he could create things with his own hands and that they were not only used to destroy. and so, if he could create something of his own in a craft that Eliza enjoyed and made her happy he would do it, no matter how many pricks to the finger he would get by moving the needle through the Cotton fabric.

Eliza had showed him the basics. how to create a design, how to outline and how to fill in spaces using satin stitch, with that knowledge he could complete any design he wanted. He had been practicing for days now, if these were the basics then why were they so hard? He grunted when he poked his finger again, a tiny pinch not enough to draw blood. Muriel glanced at Eliza sitting next to him, her face had a peaceful look on it with a small smile pulling on her lips as her hands wove the needle and thread effortlessly, leaving in its wake a Beautiful forest design with different shades of greens and browns. Muriel looks back at his design and huffs in disappointment. His outline was a bit messy the stitches different sizes, but he was determined to finish it so he continued his work in filling the yellow petals.

Eliza was lost in concentration, her hands moving on their own. repeating the same movements over and over calmed her usually racing mind down. She loved the sound of the needle piercing the fabric and the soft hum of the thread making its way through when she pulled. As she finished her thread and tied it she heard Muriel grunt in annoyance. She couldn’t help but smile, looking over at him she saw his eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed together. It made her heart swell to see him so determined at doing something that she found enjoyable. Eliza loved seeing him thread, his large calloused hands gently pushing and pulling the small needle through at his own pace. although in the beginning he would pull to hard and snap the thread or create a hole in the fabric and he would turn red and apologize for doing so but Eliza laughed softly and reassured him it was okay.

Peeking over his arm she could see why he was annoyed, he had managed to create a tangle while filling a petal. he was trying his best to undo it but was Causing it to be tangled further. She didn’t want him ruin his work that he had done already.

“How’s It going?” She asks

“Not.good.” He mumbles back

She chuckles “I see, you want help?” Muriel nodes shyly and gives her the hoop, she takes it and examines his work. “Muriel you did sunflowers! They look great!” She beams at him, he averts his eyes “I know you like them.” Her heart swells again at the thought of him doing her favorite flowers for her.

She looks at his piece again and can see that he got better at outlining his filling is a bit loose in some areas causing the tangle. “Looks like you got a tangle, these are common in filling” she picks at the tangle “remember to try to keep your thread a bit tight when filling or else your threads get intertwined when you push the needle back up again.” Muriel hums in understanding beside her, peering over her to see what she was doing. After a few moments she was able to salvage his work and undo the tangle.

Eliza smiles, happy that she managed to save his carful handiwork. “There you go! You were lucky, some tangles can’t be saved and you would have to start again” she hands him back the hoop, which Muriel takes from her. She pulls her knees up to her chest wrapping her arms around her legs as she looks at Muriel finish up the petal on his last flower and tie it off. He gets the brown thread from the box which holds all of Eliza’s embroidery supplies. He separates the thread causing him to move his arms making the muscles there move and Eliza feels her face get slightly warm from watching. He is good at putting the thread through the needle first try once done he goes to start on the center of the flower but Eliza speaks up.

“There’s a stitch that is mainly done for sunflowers to make it seem a bit more realistic, I can teach it to you?” She looks up at Muriel and automatically smiles at him. he looks at her, notices her smile and his face has the smallest tint of red on his cheeks, he nodes “okay.” Enjoying the feeling of how teaching him something new makes her happy. Eliza scoots closer to him to see his hands. “Alright! So this is called a French knot.” “What’s French?” He asks curiously from above her. Eliza pauses she never really had given thought to the name before. “Um, I’m not sure? Maybe it’s from the place it was created? Or maybe... it sorta sounds like a bread” She thinks, Muriel gives a chuckle “you always think about bread.” She hums at the idea of getting some warm bread from the bakery, “because bread is good! I can’t help myself, it’s soft goodness is a blessing I say” Muriel shakes his head and chuckles at her, ‘so Appreciative of the small things.’

Eliza Focus her attention away from the idea of fresh bread and starts to explain. “So the knot is pretty simple but might take a few tries so don’t worry. First, start your stitch” Muriel pulls the thread through at the center. “Then you wrap some of the thread around the needle twice” the big man follows as instructed “good, now pierce through near the same point you came through, and make sure to keep holding the rest of the thread in your left so it can make the knot tight...aaaaand go through” Muriel moves the needle through but dosnt manage to create the knot instead the thread disappears all the way through. She sees him pout “I didn’t do it.” He says, she pats his shoulder “it’s okay, it took me a bit to get them too but you have the movements down, it’s all about this left hand here that’s holding the rest of the thread, depending how tight you pull determines the firmness of the knot”

“Hmm I wasn’t pulling that hard...that’s why it disappeared” Eliza nodes “right!”

“How...tight does it have to be?”

“Hmm it’s best if I show you, so you can feel it” Eliza leans over him placing her hands on his, she could feel Muriel suck in a breath at her closeness and it makes her blush. This was an awkward angle she was leaning sideways and couldn’t really help him thread. “hold on I can show you better like this” Eliza Scoots towards Muriel and gently moves his arms away so they are opened as if for a hug, she then sits down in front of him her back resting lightly against his broad chest. She places her small hands on his large gentle ones and begins to do the same motions she taught him guiding his hands.

Once she was seated in front of him Muriel’s head stopped working. all he could focus on was her body pressing against his large one, he covered her with his body protecting her from all sides. They had sat like this many times in front of the fire at night but it never fails to make him flustered, he doesn't know if he will ever get truly used to touch from all of the years he was starved from it. But despite that He finds himself leaning forward seeking out her comfort, he can feel his heart beating hard against his chest as Eliza moves his hands while explaining to him the technique, but his concentration was elsewhere.

He looked at her pink lips as they moved, he tried to count the small freckles that laid across the bridge of her nose and looked at the way her eyes turned a honey brown with hints of green hidden inside them underneath the sun. The light from the ever descending sun touched her face making her seem to glow. Or maybe that was just the way he always looks at her, a glowing light in his dark world.

He loved her. In all his life he didn’t think he would fall in love with Someone the way he had with her. In moments like these is where he thanked every being that was in charge of fate and chance for bringing her into is life and was especially thankful to her for not giving up on him, for understanding him and staying by his side even when he pushed her away. of course thoughts of her forgetting him and leaving still haunted the back of his mind. They brought a great pain to his heart at the thought of Eliza forgetting about him and all they had shared together. For so long he wanted to be forgotten by the world, saw it as a gift come true, when it was made possible. but with her, he never wants to be erased from her memory, her remembering him is enough even if they do part ways he wants to live in her memories. her being with him right now is more than he could ever ask for and he would hold on to her for as long as he could.

Muriel realizes that he had rested his chin on her shoulder when Eliza gives a tug on his left hand finishing off the center of the flower with the knots she taught him. She ends the thread and holds up the hoop for both of them to look at as she fully leans back into him. Muriel raises his head to look and feels a bit guilty that he hadn’t been listening to her.

“And there you go, it looks so nice Muriel! You did good” Eliza exclaims, she turns her head to look at his face and finds that he is looking down at her with a soft smile on his lips. Her eyes widen a bit as she realizes how close they are to each other. Muriel must have realized too because his face goes red. his eyes flicker to her lips and back up to her eyes quickly then back to her lips “you...um...are a good teacher...I guess”

recovering Eliza smiles as his flustered state “Oh am I?” she says. He nodes. “Well...I think it’s because you are a good learner” her hand reaches out to cup his cheek and with that she gives him a kiss, she pulls back slowly wanting to see what Muriel would do with the action. To her satisfaction, Muriel leans forward capturing her lips again with his. He drops the hoop and wraps his arms around her small waist pulling her into his large frame. He lets out a small hum against her as he kisses her again.

Eliza pulls back with a smile on her lips to catch her breath and let her heart calm down, making the mountain man let out a grunt of disappointment, but just as quickly as he did a blush forms on his cheeks, Muriel hides his face on the crook of her neck in embarrassment.

“You must like these lessons, huh?” Eliza teases him.

“I think I might need more of them....if you want that is” Muriel mumbles against her shoulder. Eliza laughs “of course” she reaches her hand to his head and brushes her fingers through his dark hair “we can have all the lessons you want” Muriel tightens his hold on her from the feeling of her hand in his hair. He gives a small peck to her neck “good.”

For a few moments they stayed like this hearing the sounds of the forest as the animals within were getting ready to say goodbye to the day. each other’s presences was so soothing that Eliza was tempted to fall asleep. But a loud grumble Broke through the serene atmosphere. Eliza’s face turns bright red as she jolts up and clutches her stomach who was the one to blame for the grumbling. “S-sorry!” She squeaks, Muriel laughs at the noise coming from such a small figure and how its now her whose hiding her face against his chest. “I guess that means it’s time for dinner?” He says with a smile and he rubs her stomach, Eliza giggles at the sensation. There was a small pause until Muriel speaks up again “how about we go to that bakery you like?”

Eliza sits up surprise on her face. “Really? Are you okay with going? We don’t have too, there’s food inside. I’m good with eating the food that’s here” Muriel smiles at her rambling, knowing that she would settle for eating here so he wouldn’t have to go out makes his heart flutter. she always wants to make him comfortable as can be, always looking out for him he’s so appreciative of it that’s why he wants her to be always happy and content. and so if that means going out to the city to go to her favorite bakery then he will do it. for her.

He shakes his head “if you want. We can go. There’s maybe not a lot of people out” he looks at the evening sky, the wind changing into a chillier breeze. He looks back down when he feels cold paws on his thigh, he reaches and pets the Arctic fox who closes its eyes at the affection. He turns back to Eliza “I think Nell wants to go too.” He says, earning a laugh from her which catches her familiars attention and goes to her sitting on her lap. Eliza scratches Nell’s head, making small snowflakes fall onto her skirt. “Well I think that settles dinner then?” Eliza talks to her fox and looks up at Muriel “I would love to go with you” he feels the all to well known warmth on his face and dares himself to lean over to her and kiss Eliza on the forehead “then let’s get going.”

#muriel #thearcanamuriel #muriel the arcana #fluff #thearcanaoneshot #thearcanastory #mountainman #thearcana #thearcanamc #nadia #portia #julian devorak #the arcana asra #muriel x mc #muriel x oc #muriel x apprentice #bigbabyboythatmustbeprotected

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threemorrigna · 3 years

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A Tale of Two Brothers

Once there were two brothers, and they loved each other very much. The older brother was a conqueror, he walked the land raising fields and planting orchards, providing both for himself and his kin. The younger brother was a gentle soul, while his brother was out leading and taking control of the world, he preferred to stay close to home and tend to the animals that were in need around him.

The older brother had realized his love for creation when he found a seed and planted it, he watered it and took care of it. Day by day he watched the ground where he planted the seed and waited, he didn’t know what he was expecting, but he knew something was coming. He kept waiting, and one day he saw that something was there, there was a chute rising from the place the seed used to be, he felt his heart fluttering and knew that it was there because of his actions. The chute kept rising and sprung little bristles from its end, it kept opening revealing seeds between them. He knew he could do it again, and so he did.

The younger brother found his calling in a very different way, he was very fond of doing very dangerous things, so much so that every time his brother saw him, he had to patch him up somewhere new. Eventually the younger brother decided that he had had enough of his brother’s loving condescension and demanded that he teach him how to treat his wounds, and so he did. The younger brother found that he quite liked the hidden logic in stitching two pieces of skin together, and tying limbs to splints and decided that he might try new methods on patients more in need than his very healthy brother, so he started treating the animals around him instead.

Being the first siblings in existence, they were the first to feel any sort of brotherly affection. Every day the older brother would wake the younger one, together they would see the sun rise and welcome the new day with all of its trials and triumphs. Every day, the young one would call out to his brother to come home from the fields, they would watch the sun set and recall their fruitful endeavors and the failures that they learned from.

The younger brother had a tendency to stay home quite later than what his brother would expect, he enjoyed his lazy mornings with their quiet serenity. This morning wasn’t different, after his brother left for the day’s work, he stayed in their little cottage for a while, getting anything he might need that day in order and then finally left. While walking around, looking for someone to help, he stumbled into a clearing with a wide flat rock in its center, he lied down on the rock and gaze at the sky and clouds. He started counting the clouds and imagining them in different shapes. He got so lost in his daydreams that he thought he heard a hoot from a cloud, he took that as his sign to leave. But then he heard the hoot again, he turned around and saw a stark white owl with eyes bluer than the sky and a pair of terribly broken wings. The feathered creature was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, it looked, as he imagined as white as a cloud and its broken elegance was enchanting. He approached it warily, asking it if it needed his assistance. The owl hooted that she would very much appreciate the help, so he took her into his and his brother’s home, there he laid her and tended to her wounded wings.

The older brother hadn’t noticed that the light around him was fading, he was used to his brother calling him home when the time was right, and since his brother hadn’t called him, it was probably fine to prune another grapevine. He only noticed that he had overworked himself when the moon came up basking the vines around him in an ethereal blue light. On any other day his brothers voice would lead him back home, but now in its absence he had gotten lost. He walked and walked until he finally saw what he thought was the edge of the forest but was really just a clearing. He sighed and sat down on a large rock and collected his thoughts. Only then was he made aware of the startlingly blue eyes looking at him from under a row of rose hedges. He made his way toward the eyes and made out the shape of a fox paler than snow. He caught his breath, the beast he was looking at seemed fashioned out of moonbeams, he couldn’t take his eyes off of it, then he noticed a red streak running along the fox’s stunning coat. He approached the fox and asked it what had happened to it. The fox told the older brother that he had gotten tangled in the rosebushes’ thorns on his way back to his burrow and after hours of struggling against them, he was free but injured, his legs broken. The fox asked the older brother for help, as he wouldn’t be able to recover on his own. The brother agreed to take the fox in, on the condition that he wouldn’t hurt him or his sibling. The fox agreed and was taken back to the brothers’ home.

Day by day the owl and the fox grew healthier and stronger, and the brothers cared for them as if they were newfound family members. Eventually the owl could fly again, and the fox could walk again, and they began to help each brother with his endeavors. The owl would teach the younger brother the ways of nature and medicine, and the fox would help the older brother come up with great ideas of using the land around him in more clever and efficient ways.

Each brother and beast felt a special connection to each other and that connection manifested itself when they were home as well, instead of the younger brother calling out to the older one in the evenings to come back, the owl would fly out and inform him and the fox it was time to return, and instead of the brother waking the younger brother in the morning, the fox would chuckle to himself until the brother was awake and laughing with him. The little family the brothers had started was as close knit as could be, every one of the residents of their little cottage had become just as irreplaceable as the next. Just as the fox loved the eldest the owl loved the younger brother and they couldn’t remember their life before being saved by the two siblings. It was as if the sole reason they were created was so they could be together.

The brothers decided to host a competition between themselves, they invited all of the living things around them to judge their wares. In reality, neither of the brothers really intended to compete against the other, they wanted to gift the other brother a present to show their love to each other, but they wanted to surprise the other one with it. The fox was the one who came up with the competition as a ruse for the older brother to give his sibling his token of love and he was rather proud of himself for that. He told the owl about his idea and together they orchestrated the event.

The young brother knew what he wanted to give his brother, as the senior was always outside and bending nature to his will, he usually came home at the end of the day’s work with his robes torn and his hands scraped. The young sibling knew that as much as he would work to mend his siblings clothes, they would only be destroyed the next day, and that as much as his brother loved him, he would appreciate not needing to worry about little things as being protected from the nature he was wrestling into order. So, he asked the smartest creature he knew how to manage such a feat, and the owl told him how to make his imagination a reality.

He started working in spite of not knowing how he was doing what he was doing. He took the thickest wool from the healthiest sheep, and used the sharpest quill from the strongest porcupine, and he picked the most vibrant dyes from the most beautiful flowers he could find. He pulled wool and he sewed and he dyed until his hands were raw, but the gift was ready, it was only missing one thing, and so the night before the competition, just as the sun was coming up, he finished the final stitch of his brother’s insignia. The beautiful purple and gold cape was complete, and in its center as if to show the world who owned it, a single stalk of barley stood out triumphantly and shined in the morning rays of light.

The older brother had always wanted to help his brother in his endeavors, but he felt he was always too far away, which wasn’t wrong. He had an extensive knowledge of most any plant in the world medicinal or not and was absolutely sure that knowing those pieces of information would come in extremely helpful to his brother. With the fox’s help he wondered how it would be possible for him to be next to his brother any time he would need his knowledge, together they thought and wondered and imagined all kinds of solutions until the brother off handedly told the fox how useful it would be if there was a way to keep words and know them later.

The fox immediately knew that that was the way they were going to do it. They experimented in all kinds of ways to keep words, but came to a conclusion that the best way to do it was to use fallen pieces of bark from trees, they would have treat them before, using beeswax to soften them and the dry them from the wax, but it was indeed possible. And he started writing everything he knew, because all he wanted to do was share how he saw the beautiful world around him with his beloved brother. In a starlit meadow a few hours before the day of the competition he finished writing all that he knew. In that serene starlight he put a mark on the word keeper, the thing he most related with his brother, on the cover of the word keeper he drew a blooming poppy, and as the sun painted the sky in a golden hue, the poppy welcomed the new day with open petals, ready to help.

The brothers met in a clearing, each with their gift for the other. The trees, the birds, the squirrels and everything alive held their breath as they gave one another the treasures they had made.

As the older brother opened his package he exclaimed in excitement and wrapped the cape around himself, he felt as strong as the earth and as quick as the wind, he knew nothing would come between him and his goals so long as he was wearing this cape, but most of all he felt his brothers hug through the fabric, and that was the most important.

The younger brother took his time opening his package, shaking it and trying to guess what was inside, but for the life of him he couldn’t guess. He opened the package and looked at the thing that he held. It could have been a piece of wood, but it was too light, and it wasn’t even, it fluttered open and he saw all sorts of strange markings on it. Suddenly he understood, all of his brother’s hard-earned knowledge was now at his fingertips, all of his experiences for better and for worse were his now, and he could use them to help save the world around him. He ran up to his brother and hugged him and sobbed. He told him that he loved him to the end of the world, and his brother joked that it wasn’t really that far away, then he said that he loved him to the end of the world and back.

When they parted, the younger brother felt a sharp pain, he looked down and saw the fox biting into his side, then he saw a flash of white feathers and claws, and he couldn’t see. He could hear his brother shouting at the owl and fighting her, she couldn’t hurt him, he was protected by his brothers love, she retreated, and he ran towards his younger sibling. The older brother tore the fox from his brother, and he flew across the clearing He ran to his brother’s side, he yelled at him to tell him what to do to save him, where he should bandage him, how he could help, anything!

But the younger brother chuckled and said “My dear brother, you know as well as I that there is nothing left to save, I will soon be gone. Believe me when I say that I wish I knew why this tragic irony has happened on us, but alas we are but mortal. Know this brother, regardless of what you or I might have done to bring this, I will always love you. My only wish is that you don’t torment yourself over this, I know how you will make yourself feel for not protecting me”

The older brother with streams of tears running down his cheeks answered his brother’s dying words with his own “I will find the cause whomever is to take the blame for this, and make them pay, they have stolen you from me brother and that I refuse to forgive. I love you too much for that”

As the firstborn held his kin and watched the life drain out of his brother, taking his last breath, he turned to the two beasts who were to blame for the tragedy that had become his life, he demanded to know why, and they answered in unison.

“Some stories are a means to an end, their morals not reflected in themselves”

And he understood, he knew what they meant he already knew well what it felt like to be a spectacle in someone else’s narrative from the moment he was born. The owl drew her mended wings and climbed into the sky, the fox sauntered away on his healed legs, and they spread the word of the killing, changing only a word in their retelling from the truth, a brother had died by his brothers hands, instead of in them.

As he worked through the night to bury his brother’s remains, he wondered if this was how his father and mother felt when they were banished, made into an example against their will. He had always wondered why they hadn’t tried to fight against the fate that was forced upon them, why they had given up and went along with things that may or may not be the truth but were irrefutably damning. He would be different; he wouldn’t become a cog in the machine working to break him. He would rise above.

When the sun rose on a new day, painting the world in its usual splendor, he felt a new feeling rising in him. He had a mission; he would make the world remember his brother and the injustice done to him. Just as his brother had painstakingly stitched his insignia into the cape he was now wearing, he would stitch it into the fabric of creation.

Cain would leave his mark.

Whats up? this is basically a better version of the one I already uploaded, that doesnt miss anyparts that were supposed to be in it. I would really appreciate criticism, because I would really like to get better, thanks for reading :)

#story #short story #reimagined #new story alert #thank u

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in-tua-deep · 4 years

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What type of wand and patronus Would the kids have in Hogwarts AU? Would any be animagi?

okay we are really scraping the barrel of my harry potter knowledge here,,, i didn’t even finish the books guys have mercy on me i genuinely had to do vague research to answer this but here we go

Luther:

Wood: Holly. Holly wants often choose people engaged in dangerous or spiritual quests, and I mean Luther’s search for answers and the truth and figuring out his feelings regarding his father and his family is certainly a big old quest in my books. The wood is considered protective, which I thought would be a nice match for Luther’s durability and ability to act as a shield for his siblings.

Core: Unicorn hair. I just like the symbolism of loyalty to their first ‘owner’ and Luther struggling with breaking his connection to Reginald tbh. It’s also a very consistent wand core and Luther if anything is a creature of habit (he stayed at home and took orders for years) and would appreciate the loyalty and consistency of a unicorn hair core.

Diego:

Wood: Blackthorn. This wood is supposed to be best suited to a warrior, and Diego is very much a fighter. This wand wood is found among aurors as well as people in Azkaban, which I thought would be a nice tie in since Diego has a strong moral compass but also tends to operate outside the law. The blackthorn bush was wicked thorns, and Diego does tend to be a prickly person, but is also has sweet berries which I’m making symbolically represent the soft squishy side we all know he has.

Core: Dragon heartstring. A powerful core that learns quickly, but is also the most temperamental. Which I feel like matches Diego pretty well? He’s got his own mood swings but is a powerful individual who goes out of his way to help others even when there’s no real reward in it for him.

Allison:

Wood: Silver lime. Silver lime is a very pretty wand and also has a reputation for performing best for seers and those skilled in legilimency. Of which Allison ends up being exceptionally proficient in. She ends up being really good at all the mind arts, actually. If you need to obliviate someone, Allison is someone you want on your side. Plus the status the wand wood gives matches her ambition.

Core: Veela hair. It’s a temperamental wand core, but I feel like Allison has the stubbornness and mental fortitude to succeed with this wand core. She can be temperamental as well for sure lmao but also I like Veela hair for the effect veelas have on people which could be considered a soft of mind magic. Allison’s wand is literally the “mind magic wand” okay that is all

Klaus:

Wood: Sycamore. Sycamore is a questing want that is eager for new experiences and, when bored, will literally combust. If that isn’t the perfect wand for someone as much as drama queen as Klaus then I don’t know what is?? The wand is for those curious and adventurous, and I mean. Look. People don’t wax their ass with chocolate pudding because they’re boring, and they don’t stay in Vietnam during a war for a year without having enough courage for a few adventures

Core: Thestral hair. Come on, I didn��t go with a wand wood associated with death but this one was free for the taking. Invisible creatures visible to those who see death??? Come ON. It’s perfect for Klaus no I will not take any criticism. Apparently it’s unstable but I mean so is Klaus, so.

Five:

Wood: Red Oak. Red oak wands tend to choose people who are quick-witted and adaptable. Did I choose this wand wood just because of the words adaptable in the description? Maybe so. It’s a very good duelling wand, which Five excels at (a nod to his assassin/sniper skills in the show) with fast reactions (a nod to his jumping).

Core: Thunderbird tail feather. A powerful core, but difficult to master. I feel like Five would be someone who has a somewhat temperamental wand that he needs to earn the respect of. Apparently this core can sense danger and cast curses on their own which I feel like Five would find cool since his whole things is being reactive and adaptive. I feel like him and his wand become super bros eventually.

Ben:

Wood: Rowan. Rowan is a wood that likes the clear-headed and pure-hearted but also takes no shit. Okay it doesn’t say that but it does say that they frequently outperform other wands in duels despite the virtuous reputation, which I feel is fitting for Ben lmao. Rowan has a reputation for being protective, and I feel like Ben really excels at defensive magic?? He doesn’t like fighting but will it he has to

Core: Dittany stalk. There’s not really much info as a wand core, but as a herb it’s healing and restorative. Since I like the idea of Ben eventually pursuing being a mediwizard, I like the idea of him having a wand core associated with healing and fixing things. Ben is also like, the capybara sibling who no one wants to offend and as such can force others to get along so I feel like that’s appropriate as well! Since they all do research into their wand cores, Ben’s knowledge of Dittany comes in handy. Especially during their fifth year lmao

Vanya:

Wood: Vine. Vine goes to witches and wizards with hidden depths, who seeks a greater purpose and astound those who know them best. I mean. Vanya definitely had hidden depth, had ambitions (first chair), and astounded her family by revealing her powers and destroying the world so. I also kind of like it symbolically, since vine isn’t wood from a tree so it’s not something you would think of as a wand wood which speaks to Vanya going under the radar

Core: Phoenix feather. The greatest range of magic, but take the longest to reveal themselves. I mean, Vanya’s powers certainly took a long time to manifest considering Reginald highkey drugged her for all of her childhood so there’s that. Phoenixes are independent and detached, and Vanya herself is the most independent in the show (has a stable job, has an apartment, published author, etc.) and the most detached (isolated for her entire life) so look it fits okay.

As for patronuses (patroni?) uhhHHHH

I feel like Luther’s is a lion (house pride), a bear (strength), or a dog (loyalty)

Diego’s is probably a wolf because he’s a ‘lone wolf’ that is actually very sappy and loves his dumbass pack no matter how much he denies it

Allison is uh? Maybe a snake (house pride/associations with manipulations), or some kind of bird. Don’t know why I just feel like she would have a nice bird patronus. Maybe some symbolic thing about her being the one to spread her wings and actually get married and have a kid in the show idk i’m making this up as I go along folks

Klaus probably gets a raven or a cat? Both very intelligent creatures with some association to death or bad luck (in the case of a black cat, depending on where you live)

Five hmm. My heart says a hare or a hummingbird perhaps? I like the idea of a hummingbird because of how quick it is, if you aren’t watching closely it really is like it does tiny baby teleports! Or maybe a fox, for the association with cunning?

Ben: obvious joke answer is an octopus or a squid lmao bring in some of the casual horror symbolism. Hey do you think Ben is chill with the great squid in the lake??? I’m not sure though in all seriousness. Maybe a rat like in the daemon au? Intelligent and very good creatures uwu

Vanya: HMM. An owl? or maybe something super fancy like a phoenix actually. I feel like there’s plenty of symbolism regarding phoenixes that could match up well with Vanya, including but not limited to her whole being reborn as the White Violin thing in the show yeah you know what i’m going with phoenix why not

As for being animagi - yes! The whole squad starts working towards it in their 5th year with some prompting from ghost!Fred after an Incident Occurs but I have no idea what their forms would be tbh outside of stuff I already suggested for them with patronuses. Though I guess their patronus could be one thing I considered and their animagus forms another?? Who knows!

Author’s notes:

Luther I almost picked Ebony just for stubborn points. I liked Pine for Diego until I got to the point of “these wands are destined for long lived people” and then i was like lmao nope that’s none of the Hargreeves save perhaps Five they all died at thirty. Allison I also considered Elm and Applewood for, Applewood especially if I remember correctly.

I liked Aspen and Maple for Five a lot! Aspen I like for the dramatic imagery of Five with a white wand I’ll admit lmao but I like what I ended up choosing. Klaus I also liked Yew (but felt it was too obvious because it’s supposed to be a wand with power over life and death) and Dogwood, which is apparently for mischievous and loud witches and wizards. Fred and George had dogwood wands!!

Ben I also considered Alder and Beech but I liked Rowan better lmao. Vanya was so hard!! I really loved Elder for her with its deeply unlucky association. I also really liked Cedar since it “carries the potential to be a frightening adversary, which often comes as a shock to those who have thoughtlessly challenged them” which I feel is very Vanya

alright that’s all i got for now i’m tired and looking at wand woods is way more in depth than i was originally planning on going for this au lmao if you have different opinions or suggestions i would love to hear them uwu

#ask me #anonymous #hogwarts au #tua au #tua/hp crossover #tua crossover #the umbrella academy #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hagreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #number five #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #i do not know enough about harry potter to be reliable on this lmao #i have an approximate knowledge of many things though #far tua long #long post

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unlockthelore · 4 years

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Home

The benefit of building a resistance is being able to withstand deprivation but Hiei isn’t sure he’ll ever grow accustomed to being without this. From the fic Fluent on Ao3. For more updates, follow the fluent yyh tag on this blog.

“Well, don’t you look handsome?”

Hiei snorted at the compliment as slender fingers adjusted the collar of his uniform. To his dismay, the closeness needed for Kurama to fuss over him rendered him unable to look ahead or upward without accidentally meeting the fox’s gaze. Time had given him an unfair advantage in beauty and wiles, gifting inexhaustible methods of disarming Hiei much to his chagrin. Though he’d hoped being in such close proximity to Kurama would’ve given him some resistance, recent changes to the nature of them left him at a loss.

After finally getting the collar tips to stay, Kurama cupped the underside of his jaw delicately and brushed a kiss to the Jagan’s ward. A muttered grumble passed through Hiei’s lips just as a pleasant chill crept down his spine, barely resisting the urge to lean into the kiss when their room door creaked open. Immediately, Hiei whipped his head to one side, catching the faint sliver of pale blue and crimson streaking from the doorway. Tiny footsteps becoming soundless as they hurried down the corridor. His shoulders slumped the further they went. Kurama patted his shoulder sympathetically, and Hiei looked up to him.

“If you speak to her, perhaps you’ll be able to discern the meaning for her discontent.”

Hiei grimaced. While he wasn’t thrilled to leave for the Rites of Succession, it was common knowledge that he would have to depart. However, common knowledge didn’t lend to understanding much to his dismay. No matter how much he tried to will her to understand, he doubted they would see eye to eye before he parted. Kurama’s hand slipped from his shoulder, brushing a trail along his lower back, stifled by his overcoat.

“If you don’t speak to her, you’ll regret it.”

Hiei whipped his head back to him at the assumption and met kindly green eyes lined with steel determination and knowing. Swallowing the lump of words gathered in his throat, he sighed. Ticking filled the silence and as it stretched on, Hiei felt the need to do or say something growing. Yanking at the wide pink collar of Kurama’s sweater to bring him closer, a sharp kiss almost on the verge of bruising beginning. Noses brushing uncomfortably, teeth nearly clacking but with a firm hand to his jaw and a whispered word, the wrinkles between them smoothed out in exchange for pleasure.

Kurama’s lips finding his own in a gentle embrace and the collar relinquished from his vicious grip. Their separation never going far, the Jagan burning beneath the touch of Kurama’s forehead to his own. It shouldn’t have been this hard. Frustration impatiently lapping at his insides like the tide. And if it would stop time, he would destroy that incessant clock ticking away. But it wouldn’t and it would hardly aid him in this. Sharing a lingering look with Kurama, the fox whispered a soft word in a Youko dialect Hiei had only a half-understanding of from his copious and at times joking lessons.

“This is part of being an uncle,” Kurama said as she smiled and kissed the corner of his lips then ushered him toward the door.

Needling aside, a swell of emotion fit Hiei close to burst as he descended down the steps and found his boots, customary of Mukuro’s uniform design, missing. The trail of youki was diffused but lingered enough to lead him to the sprawling grasslands surrounding the back of his and Kurama’s home. Treading through the grass dyed a light brown from the afternoon sun descending across a honey gold sky, he found himself at the base of one of his favorite sleeping trees. Its trunk had split into two winding boughs, one stretching higher into the sky with thick bushels of leaves while the other was a bit lower, housing dozing birds and their nests. Butterflies taking to circling its base and entertaining themselves on the flowers Kurama planted.

Hiei knelt down, brushing his fingers along translucent petals. A jolt of youki and the petals glowed, reflecting the sun’s light and filling out in color. Tipping his head upward to the shadows of the tree’s boughs, his eyes softened and he laid a hand against the tree trunk.

“Hinata.”

For a second, there was no response and he half considered dirtying the uniform to climb the tree. It wasn’t as if it wouldn’t be destroyed by the end of his trip anyhow. Yet, to save him the trouble, two small legs appeared from beneath a tree branch followed by a small hand clutching the laces of his boots tightly. Hiei bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling with pride as she descended from the tree, once cautious step at a time, finding footholds in the aged bark.

The groove where the boughs separated allowing her to stand, looming at least a head over him, despite her small stature.

“What are you doing?” Hiei asked in spite of the redundancy he felt, unfazed by wide expressive crimson eyes narrowing at him exasperatedly. “Give those here.”

She scowled. “No.”

On a face that so closely resembled his sister’s in her youth, he would have hardly expected such an angry expression. However, he’d seen Yukina when she was discontent and even more when she was angry. While his niece had decades before she reached the epitome of her mother’s skill in glaring, she was well on her way.

Raising a brow curtly, Hiei motioned for her to explain and Hinata’s bare foot stamped against the wood. Frost gathering along the moss and catching his eye as some of the butterflies scattered.

“You won’t come back.”

Hiei scowled. “Why would you say that?”

The only way he wouldn’t return is from death. Did she really think so little of him? Her expression crumpled and the anger she seemed to hold onto so desperately was beginning to leave her. Averting her gaze, she clutched the boots tightly to her chest and crouched down in a curled ball.

“You like it better there…”

Hiei’s eyes softened and he glanced over his shoulder, finding Kurama’s silhouette in the doorway. If there was any wisdom for him to be given to combat this perception, the fox didn’t seem to be keen on sharing. Perhaps he was interested as well — learning how deep the change had run in Hiei’s heart and mind. His reluctance to leave in determination to launch into a fight.

For Kurama who’d known of his ways, it would be easier to understand.

For Hinata who knew him as her uncle, there was a different kind of want in presence.

Hiei sighed and stepped forward, his socked feet brushing against the moss-covered tree roots. Using one of the footholds to pull himself up and reach her, brushing his fingers across her hair.

“I like the ginkgo tree outside of the temple, I like eating your uncle’s cooking even if he won’t let me reach into the pot, I like watching you catch fireflies past your bedtime —” Hiei was hard pressed to keep his voice calm, hoping his desperation to not see her cry wouldn’t betray him, and as her head whipped up to look at him, he sighed catching the familiar scowl.

“You promised you wouldn’t tell.”

Hiei chuckled, stepping back and lowering himself to the grass, opening his arms to her. “Then come here and I’ll whisper it to you.”

She seemed to think it over for a second. Nursing the boots to her chest and shifting from her perch, peering down at him with trepidation. Resisting the urge to fidget, Hiei almost exhaled in relief when she leapt down into his waiting arms. His hold on her shifting to a cradle and the boots were forgotten as they fell from her grasp, her arms slipping around his neck. Years ago, he might’ve found the hold restrictive and fought against it but this was neither here nor there.

And he would never raise a hand to her.

“I like it there,” Hiei murmured, stepping back into the grass to hide his stumble as he turned back toward the house’s veranda where Kurama awaited. “And I love it here.”

Hinata shifted in his arms, looking up with tears glossing her eyes and his heart threatened to shatter. “Can I come with you…?”

“Not this time,” Hiei said as he hugged her close, letting her head rest against his shoulder.

“Then when…?” She murmured against the side of his neck and the cool touch of her small hands reminded him of how easily he could be killed. And how unafraid he felt.

“Someday,” Hiei sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head then setting his lips against her crown. “I promise.”

Pulling away enough to look at the soft rounded features, sharp eyes boring into his own observingly, Hiei nodded firmly and Hinata smiled.

“… Okay, but you promised.”

Another change, Hiei thought as he lowered her to the grass and let her lead him by the hand after his boots had been gathered. It was almost comedic. Her tiny hand grasping his own and tugging him across the field to the veranda where Kurama greeted her, congratulating her on eluding him for so long. Promises, entertaining the whims of a small child, of a man who just as easily vexed him as he did endear him.

Sitting down on the veranda, Hiei barely looked up as a chilly press to his cheek preluded Hinata’s departure inside. Kurama taking his place and not saying a word when his movement to tie his boots slowed. Unconsciously brushing his knuckles to his cheek and redirecting the heat in his body to keep the cool touch for a while longer.

Could he really call it a mistake?

Looking to Kurama and catching the sunlight on crimson hair, amused green eyes and a smile so familiar yet new as if he were seeing it for the first time —

Hiei hardly noticed when he had moved. When he fisted Kurama’s sleeve and tugged him forward, kissing him again soundly.

“You have to leave,” Kurama said breathily when the first kiss ended, his cheeks flushed pink reminding Hiei painfully of their first kiss.

“Shut up,” Hiei demanded, tugging him closer to kiss him again, screwing his eyes shut.

After the second, Kurama sounded bemused and spoke in an almost lilting tone. “Kirin will be irritated with you.”

Hiei wanted to say he cared less. Why would Kurama not stop talking? Let Mukuro come fetch him if she liked or for Kirin to come and complete the Rites here. He wouldn’t mind showing his niece or his friend — partner — husband —

So many new words in such a short span of time but each one set his heart aflame.

“I said silence.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Kura— ” Another kiss was pressed to Hiei’s lips, effectively cutting him off and drowning him in sensation all at once. Gentle fingers brushing along the underside of his chin to the curve of his neck before settling at his collar. Touches he wouldn’t have allowed before but felt himself aching for with how close they were coming to being without it for a time.

Parting with a light kiss pressed to the corner of his lips, Kurama’s signature, and his smile in view of Hiei’s lidded eyes. “I’ll miss you too.”

It wasn’t long after, Kurama’s forehead touching to his own and Hinata squeezing him tight around the neck for one last hug, that Hiei was set to depart. Mukuro waved from the forest line where a waiting portal would be on a trail where the connection between the Ningenkai and Makai was at its strongest. To take him back to a land away from this idyllic peace.

Hiei stopped by her side and if Mukuro had an issue with his dalliance, she said nothing. Looking back down the winding paths that would lead to his home, he thought of how he had gotten here. The fate he had been bestowed, the path he tread.

And the realization he could come back home.

#yyh #yu yu hakusho #kurahi #kurama x hiei #kurama #hiei #fanfiction #my fanfiction #fluent yyh

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roman-catholic-mass-readings · 4 years

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13th November >> Mass Readings (USA)

Friday, Thirty Second Week in Ordinary Time

Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini.

Friday, Thirty Second Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: White)

(Readings for the feria (Friday))

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Friday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

First Reading

2 John 4-9

Whoever remains in the teaching has the Father and the Son.

[Chosen Lady:] I rejoiced greatly to find some of your children walking in the truth just as we were commanded by the Father. But now, Lady, I ask you, not as though I were writing a new commandment but the one we have had from the beginning: let us love one another. For this is love, that we walk according to his commandments; this is the commandment, as you heard from the beginning, in which you should walk.

Many deceivers have gone out into the world, those who do not acknowledge Jesus Christ as coming in the flesh; such is the deceitful one and the antichrist. Look to yourselves that you do not lose what we worked for but may receive a full recompense. Anyone who is so “progressive” as not to remain in the teaching of the Christ does not have God; whoever remains in the teaching has the Father and the Son.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm

Psalm 119:1, 2, 10, 11, 17, 18