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sunlightmurdock · 7 months

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Like This Forever | 0.1 | J. Seresin

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You’re thinking of the past, right as the future is about to change forever.

Warnings: accidental pregnancy, childhood friends to lovers, country singer!Jake, smut, pining, blissful ignorance, other warnings to follow. wc: 3k (18+ minors do not interact)

A U G U S T 1 9 7 4 / F E B R U A R Y 1 9 9 1

Driftwood — small town southwestern Texas, situated in Lockheart County. Springs, stony hills, and steep canyons. It’s good land, occupying a tiny patch of earth in the middle of the Edwards Plateu. That’s what they all say: good land, good soil. Large acreages of wheat for miles around, grown annually for harvest and winter through spring livestock grazing. The remaining two-thirds of the region is rangeland devoted to cattle ranching. Ranches in this region often seem older than the landscape itself. Lockheart County’s livestock industry is nationally appreciated, it was, even back then. Ranches here are huge, they’ve been there for generations. The town of Driftwood, itself, sits in a valley. It holds on to the people who settle there just like it holds onto the weight of that thick, summer heat all through the day. So hot that even the trees bend and furl like they’re seeking shade too.

Back then, Driftwood was even smaller than it is now. Post Office, Church, two schools, a fleet of locally owned stores on Main Street and a few other buildings for the fathers who weren’t ranchers or ranch hands to work.

On that day in early August, most of Driftwood’s thousand person population were nestled amongst the pews of St. Augustine’s Church, just outside of town. It’s a mile and a half from Main Street, and a mile and a half from the furthest fence on the Seresin Ranch. Their house is a sprawling thing that Bill’s grandfather had built — they haven’t got that kind of money now, and they didn’t on that morning in August. They’ve got three boys, who were squirming around the front pew, melting into the aged wood below them in their smart white button ups. They’ve got another boy too, standing behind Pastor James, holding a processional candle.

Jake’s their youngest. He was nine back then. Small for his age, especially when you stood him next to his brothers and their broad shoulders and long legs. His hair was beyond blond, lightened from the sun. His cheeks dusted with brown freckles and his eyes always narrowed into a type of John Wayne kind of squint. Jake loved John Wayne back then. He loved the cowboys on his bed sheets, and the fact he could see the cattle from his bedroom window. All he wanted back then was a pistol on his hip and a one-way ticket to El Dorado.

Mary-Lynn Seresin grew up in Driftwood, just like her husband had. She had known Bill since she was a little girl, and she had always known that she would marry him one day. Her nails were polished pink that day, sitting pretty atop the procession card as she fans herself with it. Two pews behind, you could still see a droplet of sweat bead from her neat blonde hairline and trail into the collar of her blue polka-dotted Sunday dress.

On that particular Sunday, the fans had packed up and stopped working. So, all six hundred of you who could make it out to St. Augustine’s we’re trapped in there — not just with Pastor James’ storytelling, but with the thick heat pressing down on the entire valley feeling like it had all been shut in this one room with the rest of you.

At the front, Jake Seresin’s cheeks were red, his hair was beading with sweat and his scarecrow, twig-like arms were trembling around the cross. He struggled with its weight and you had watched his green eyes flash out towards the crowd, briefly landing on his mother. Mary-Lynn gave him a proud nod. Bill was staring at the stagnant ceiling fans above their heads. You, were staring right at Jake.

Eight years old yourself, just eight weeks younger than Jake is, you have known that little grass-stain your entire life. In fact, Mary-Lynn and your mother found out that they were expecting just days apart. They had been in the same high school grade as girls, had married men who were good friends, and back then your mother had worked in the town’s hair salon five days a week. They grew very close through their pregnancies. Your mother was the first one to send flowers when Mary-Lynn went into labour a month and a half early.

Jake’s John-Wayne-Squint deepened through the heavy air, watching you like you were both about to draw pistols and settle this like men — right in the middle of Pastor James’ final verse. Your pigtails and your white Sunday dress weren’t fooling him. His robes and the heavy cross in his hand weren’t fooling you. Clearly following his brother’s gaze, Daniel Seresin turns and peers at you over his shoulder. He’s the closest in age to Jake, but he’s still five years older. Thirteen then and too grown up for childish squabbles like those, he just turned back to the front and shook his head.

The first three of the Seresin boys were all born within three consecutive years. Matthew, Noah and Daniel. They’re each tall like their mother, blonde like her too, and have inherited their father’s linebacker shoulders. Noah was fourteen and about to be a freshman in high school. After he fixed the chain on your bike at the beginning of summer, you were full-blown head-over-heels in love with him back then. You thought you were anyway.

Jake, however, had been in your class since Kindergarten and you had been forced to share your toys with him for even longer than that.

His arms trembled before you and your mouth had twitched. Neither one of you was listening to the service. It was almost over. Just a few more minutes until Pastor James wrapped up and the people of Driftwood and poured out of this sauna and out into the dry, morning sun.

Quickly, you shot a look at your mother sitting at your side. She was listening intently, staring right ahead with her neatly steamed clothes and her hair-sprayed hair. You’ll always remember the heavy smell of her rose-scented perfume. Every time you inhale it, you’re sitting at the foot of her bed, watching her fix her face in her vanity. Then, you looked to your father on the other side of you. Exactly the same. Pleased, you turn your attention back to the youngest Seresin boy.

Scrunching your nose, you had sat forwards just slightly and stuck your tongue out at him. Quite the diss back then. Jake’s green eyes had widened, sweat beading down his back under his white shirt and his service robes.

Driftwood is a safe place. It’s a fantastic town to raise children. The schools aren’t overcrowded and cars don’t speed through the centre of town. Country roads are a different story. But no one bats an eyelid, especially not back then, when their children are out of sight.

Mary-Lynn was busily detailing the events of her dinner party that coming Saturday to a group of women that are invited. She’s quite the hostess still. Your mother stood amongst them. Neither one of them were concerned about where their children were in the slightest. Until, that is, the sounds of muffled screaming filled their ears. The mothers of Driftwood rush to the commotion in their kitten heels and pretty dresses. Your mother was the first around the corner. She would recognise the sound of her baby’s screaming anywhere. But you weren’t the one in trouble. As usual, you had been causing it.

Your white dress grass-stained and muddy, dirt under your fingernails and covering your formerly white, frilled socks. You were kneeling. You haven’t yet noticed the crowd of women rushing in your direction. You’ve got Mary-Lynn Seresin’s youngest son pressed into the dirt, kneeling on his back and twisting his arm uncomfortably behind him.

“Say Uncle!” You demanded.

“You’re so dead! Get off!” Jake struggled under you, screaming with all the force that his growing lungs would allow. His voice must have been audible across the entire valley with how he was hollering. Freckled cheek pressed into the dirt, his white shirt was destroyed and he was in the middle of ruining his shoes with how he was scrambling for purchase in the dried dirt.

Quickly, your mother had grabbed you under your arms and hauled you off of the boy, spinning you to face her.

“What do you think you’re doing young lady?”

“He started it! — He said my dress was ugly!”

“It is ugly, you look like a girl!” Jake huffed from behind you as he had stumbled onto his feet and taken a look down at his church clothes. Slowly, he had lifted his gaze to look at his mother. Sullen and worried looking, he began to pout. It wasn’t working. Mary-Lynn had raised three boys by then, she knew when they were trying to play innocent.

The thing about growing up so close together, is that approaching double digits was a confusing time. It was around that age that your mother began to put her foot down when it came to all of those tom-boy activities. Girls might roughhouse and come home with holes in their jeans and mud on their faces, but young ladies didn’t. The dress was her idea.

Jake’s comment had been passing, just a whisper as his family had headed into church ahead of yours, but he was right — you did look like a girl. Back then, that wasn’t a compliment coming from him. So, you had cornered him outside and pummeled him into the dirt. Fair is fair.

“Mary-Lynn, I am so sorry about her — send me the dry-cleaning bill. I’m sorry, we should go.” Your mother had sighed in a hurry, frowning down at your ruined clothes, then looking towards Jake’s. You’ll always remember the smile on Mary-Lynn’s face after. Not pity, because she knew you were in a lot of trouble for this. Just fondness. She had gently patted your mother’s forearm and shaken her head.

“Let’s finish our chat. They’re already filthy. Let them play.”

Looking up at her, you hadn’t understood why she was siding with you back then. You had just almost broken her son’s arm for sport. As you grew, Mary-Lynn Seresin was always on your side. In her kitten heels and dresses, she remembered being a dirt-covered little girl once too. No one was telling her son that it was time yet, to be a man. There’s no harm in letting you be young a little longer.

Your mother had looked uncertain, but people in Driftwood always looked to Mary-Lynn for advice. She had somehow managed to keep four boys in line perfectly, her parenting expertise was studied by those around her. Finally, she had given you a brief nod.

You remember spinning on the delicate almost-heel of your church shoes, rounding on Jake, ready to brawl. You have no clue where the stick came from, but he was armed when you had turned around — but Jake always fought fair. He tossed you a stick of your own and took aim. Green eyes narrowed, he was trying to look down his freckled nose at you, but you were taller then.

“She’s gonna marry that boy someday.” Mary-Lynn Seresin had huffed with a wistful smile, watching the mud-caked children tear off through the field once again. This time, with sticks in hands and violent intent plastered across their dirty faces.

You’re not eight anymore. Jake’s not nine. This time of the year, you both happen to be twenty-six. You aren’t trying to kill him with a stick anymore either. You’re sitting at your favourite bar in Driftwood — there are four now — watching your best friend up on stage. He’s always confident. He has been since he hit that growth spurt when he was twelve. Since then, Jake has been unstoppable. But on stage is when he really shines.

The Dark Star feels like an old bar. It’s packed every Friday night. It smells like malt and smoke and Jake’s been playing here every Saturday since he was seventeen. This is the last time that it will ever be like this, and you don’t even know it yet. Jake’s in the middle of an original. People around here know him, they know his music. They might not get all the words right, but he always gets people singing.

Jake isn’t small for his age now. He grew into his nose, and he inherited those big shoulders, his skin’s tanned from his days out at the ranch. He’s strong and funny and kind. Sometimes it catches you off guard, when you turn your head and find a man in place of the little boy you once knew.

You’re in a booth, talking numbers. It turns out that you had inherited your mother’s knack for business strategy, and Jake’s way with words had rubbed off on you long ago.

You don’t look like the little girl Jake had once known either. If he was concerned about you looking like a girl before, then you can only imagine how dismayed he must be when he looks at you now. Breasts and everything.

“It’s more than potential, Stu — you saw how crazy people were for him when he was opening for The Ashford Band.” You tell him, fingers curled around a brown glass bottle. This is already settled, the deal is already done. You knew from the second that he walked in that you had Stu Adler suckered.

This is a deal that you’ve been mulling over for a couple of months now. Getting Jake on his first headline tour. His debut album came out last week and it’s doing well, but the record label is tiny and the publicity deal is even smaller. Jake’s making pennies compared to other people in his genre, but you’re about to change all of that.

“Six months is a long time on the road. It’s a different lifestyle,” Stu’s dishwater grey eyes flicker briefly up from the plunging neckline of your top to meet your gaze. He’s an older man, with a once successful career in Los Angeles. Now, he spends his time scrounging small towns for talent. He’s just a stepping stone in your plans for Jake. “You’re sure he can handle it?”

Stretching your legs out, you scoff incredulously at the accusation as Jake’s last song dwindles behind you. The beer bottle is cool against your lips. Stu swallows, watching your lips purse around the rim to drink. You know he’d die for the chance to get his wrinkly, old dick in your mouth — it’s why Jake’s about to get the best deal of his life.

“Jake? — Of course.”

“Can you?” Stu asks. The light on you for once makes you cringe. Even so, your poker face doesn’t falter. Calmly staring across the table at him, a small smile on your face. “Y’know, he’s going to need a manager that I can rely on. I.e. — one that he won’t dump, sweetheart.”

This only makes your smile grow. “Jake is like a brother to me. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

It’s that lie that secures the deal. Six months, a hundred and sixty dates across the US. Mostly small venues, but it’s his first headline tour — and it’s all because of you. Because of that one little white lie. Letting Stu think that he’s got a chance with you. Letting him think that you’ve never fucked Jake.

You have. Twice, already by this point. Once, after senior prom. Your date was an asshole and his was cruel. You’d parked his truck out in the west pasture of the Seresin ranch and got a little too drunk under the stars, and wound up with your legs hiked up over his shoulders. The second time was Thanksgiving two years ago. Your family joined his. All of his brothers have fiancés or wives now. Sharing Jake’s bed in his childhood home that night, neither one of you was drunk. You were just lonely, and maybe bored.

Tonight, there are a couple of different factors at play. Sure, by the time that you and Jake collapse down onto that red, velvet couch in the Dark Star’s ‘dressing room’, you’ve had plenty to drink. You’re not quite as lonely as you were that thanksgiving, though.

You turn your head and he’s grinning at the ceiling, chest heaving from the energetic final song. His arms stretch along the backs of the couch, his eyes closed for a moment. You watch him silently.

“You’re incredible.” Jake’s half-cut on an unhealthy mix of tequila and vodka, but smiling, eyes still shut, chin still pointed towards the sky. He gives his head a small shake. “A hundred and sixty dates.”

A smile plasters itself across your lips. As drunk as you are, it’s nice to be complimented for your hard work. “Yeah, we’ll see if you still think I’m so incredible when you’re living off of burgers and beer and still have eighty shows to go.”

The smell of cigarettes lives within the fibre of this room. Part of the furniture, nestled amongst the cracks in the red painted walls. There’s the couch that you’re sitting on, and an illuminated vanity against the far wall, and then a coat stand. It’s not much of a dressing room, but it’s fine.

You just wish it would stop spinning.

“I mean it.” His fingers rest atop your denim clad thigh, patting platonically. You hear him sigh from beside you. He squeezes at the supple skin under his hand. “Thank you.”

“Jake… since when do you have manners?” You ask him. Both of you are sitting with your eyes shut on this old, probably dirty, velvet couch. It’s five in the morning. The two of you might have gone a little overboard with celebrating. Wayne Mayhew, the owner of the Dark Star might have threatened to kick you both out of his bar if you didn’t finally get off of his damn stage ten minutes ago.

But there’s a high buzzing between the two of you that feels electric. Wordlessly, you know Jake feels it too. That this is the last night. Here, in this shitty hometown bar. Everything is about to change. After this tour, nothing will ever be the same again — for either of you.

Jake’s thumb trails back and forth in just one small pattern, reminding you that it’s there on your thigh.

It’s been on your mind all day, for no reason at all. That Sunday in August in 1974. Your ruined church dress and the fat bruise on Jake’s cheek the next day when you had seen him at the market. The start of it all.

Those late night drives and all the evenings you studied together. Jake’s football games and his band practices — back when he had thought he wanted to be in a band. Him drying your tears and making you laugh. Growing up together, talking for hours and hours about all of the possibilities. This was everything Jake had ever wanted, and he’s thanking you.

Your eyelids weigh double what they normally do — heavy as you blink open your eyes and turn your head. This time, he’s looking across at you. The tips of his fingers brush the inseam of your blue, low-rise jeans. His face is calm, he isn’t saying anything and he’s far from doing anything either.

Scrunching your nose, you poke your tongue out at him. Across the couch, Jake lifts his brows. The corner of his mouth twitches. He’s got stubble now. Stubble, and chest hair and an Adam’s apple. But that look, that glint in his eye that’s just daring you to try him has always been the same.

Jake’s fingers twitch, pressing into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. Dim lighting, fifteen year old red paint on each of the four walls, and that perpetual cigarette smell — it’s hardly a romantic fantasy. And this is far from a good idea.

But it’s Jake. Confident, loud Jake who gets shy when he’s around someone he really likes. Funny, smart-mouthed Jake who under it all is a great listener. Goofy, habitual Jake who has the nighttime routines of a fifty year old housewife.

Strong-willed, handsome, Jake, your best friend — who’s looking at you like you’re his next meal.

…

@fia-thefirst @daggerspare-standingby @dempy @v0id-chaos @moonlight-addisyn @grxcisxhy-wp @shakespeareanwannabe @coconut152 @330bpm-whiplash @takemetooneverlanddd @princess76179 @loveofvernonslife @averyhotchner @trickphotography2 @sushiwriterhere @the-romanian-is-bae @atarmychick007 @talktomegooseman @xoxabs88xox @thedroneranger @roostersforevergirl @buckysdollforlife @abaker74 @blackwidownat2814 @kmc1989 @whatislovevavy @lonelywriter10 @s-u-t @topguncortez @callsign-joyride @rosedurin @86laura11 @theenorthstar @mygyn @growup-thatbeautiful @percysaidnever @katiedid-3 @its-the-pilot

#jake smut #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin x reader #Jake Seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #Jake Seresin fic #jake seresin #Glen powell #Jake hangman Seresin #top gun: maverick

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stalkerofthegods · 5 months

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Apollo Cheat sheet

God of - prophecy and oracles, Music, song and poetry, archery, healing, plague and disease, and the protection of the young, divine distance, fertility, knowledge, dancing, wolves, locust, doorways, mice, entrances, foreigners, happy travels, light, omens, averting evil and harm, boundaries, and borders, laurels, mildews, the god who punishes and destroys, he helps and wards off evil, he protects the flocks and cattle, the foundation of towns and the establishment of civil constitutions, protection of young boys, god of purification, he’s also a Psychopomp.

Symbols- The lyre, Silver bow & arrows, Dolphins, Swans, Crows, Ravens, Lions, Wolves, Wolves, Mice, Griffins, Hawks, Snakes, Laurel wreath, Fire/flame, The sun/sunlight, Tripod, Apples

Incense/scents - Bay, Frankincense, Cypress, Clove, Cinnamon, Mugwort, Myrrh, hythincath, Rays of light radiating from his head, Branch of laurel, Wreath, amber, myrrh, lily of the valley, frankinscences, orange, lemongrass, marjoram

Colors • orange and yellow, red, gold and pure white blue, pink (means healing) purple and green (associated with the Oracle)

Herbs• Palm Tree, Apple Tree, Poplar Tree, Mistletoe, cinnamon, myrrh, bay leafs, sunflowers and red roses, oak wood, cypress (his veey dear friend ((not a lover or crush))), mint, heliotrope, Goldenseal, Date Palm, orange, lemongrass, marjoram

elements • his element is light

Day, month and festivals• Yule, Midsummer, May, sunday, his festivals are Noumenia, Delphinia, Thargelia, Apatouria, Pyanepsia, Asklepia (maybe), Pandia (maybe)

Patron of - medicine, mental health, physical health, therapy, the alphabet/words, defender of herds and flocks, justice, prophecy, and mental and moral purity, herdsmen and shepherds, anything in the medical field.

What I resonate with him • resseces pieces (I forgot why), Raven, lyre, lemonade, yellow, sun, bob Ross, painting, singing, humming, melody, Oracle’s, prophecies, knowledge, Purification, suns/ stars

Crystals•Sunstone, Citrine, Carnelian, Clear Quartz, Pyrite, Selenite, Lapis Lazuli

His sacred items - Bow and arrows; lyre; the wreath of laurel leaves (he wears that which is to be understood as Daphne’s hair.)

Planet - The sun

Tarot card- the sun, the chariot

Number - 7

Animals - Wolf, griffin, dolphins, Swans, foxes, roe deer, swans, cicadas, hawks, ravens, crows, foxes, mice, and snakes

Signs he's reaching out• Significant Dream Encounters of him, Frequent Solar Imagery, Increased Interest in the Arts, Strong Connection to Healing, seeing his Symbols and Animals, having Prophetic Experiences, finding yourself seeking the truth all of the sudden, Attraction to Light and Warmth

What u could put on his alter • Sun water, Wine (diluted with pure water), Milk, Olive oil, Herbal teas, Honey, honey cakes, Orange and lemon pastries, Lamb meat, goat meat, Fruits, Cheeses, Wheat, Breads, Golden objects (ex- such as gold bowls, gold wine cups, flakes of gold), Bows and arrows (real or fake), art, Images of the sun, All musical instruments, (especially stringed instruments), Wolf imagery, dolphin imagery, Any images of birds (especially crows and swans), Yellow, gold, and white candles, Incense he likes. He likes his alters Neat, clean, not cluttered, orderly, surround him with who he loves (ex- past lovers, Leto, artemis) , add images of wolves, mice, and ravens, Wine, incense, gifts of solar imagery, oranges

Other titles of apollon• ABAEUS/ Abaios (derived from the town of Abae in Phocis),

ACERSE′COMES/Akersekomês (Apollo expressive of his beautiful hair which was never cut or shorn.) ACE′SIUS/ Akesios (surname of Apollo, under which he was worshipped in Elis, This surname, which has the same meaning as akestôr and alexikakos as the god of averter of evil), ACESTOR/Akestôr (A surname of Apollo which characterises him as the god of the healing art, or in general as the averter of evil, like akesios), ACTIACUS (a surname of Apollo, derived from Actium, AEGLE′TES/Aiglêtês (that is, the radiant god), AGE′TOR/Agêtôr (a surname given to several gods, example is Zeus at Lacedaemon) AGO′NIUS/Agônios (a surname or epithet of several gods, like Zeus), AGRAEUS/Agraios (the hunter a surname of Apollo After he had killed the lion of Cithaeron), AGYIEUS/Aguieus (a a title describing him as the protector of the streets and public places), ALEXI′CACUS/ Alexikakos (the averter of evil, is a surname given by the Greeks to several deities like Zeus.), AMAZO′NIUS/ Amazonios, AMYCLAEUS/Amuklaios, ARCHE′GETES/Archêgetês (A surname of Apollo, under which he was worshipped in several places, as at Naxos in Sicily), Megara (The name has reference either to Apollo as the leader and protector of colonies, or as the founder of towns in general, in which case the import of the name is the same as theos patroôs.), BOEDRO′MIUS/ Boêdromios (the helper in distress), CARNEIUS/ Karneiosx, CATAE′BATES/Kataibatês (invoked by this name to grant a happy return home, katabasis (to those who were travelling abroad), CHRYSAOR/Chrusaôr) (The god with the golden sword or arms), CLA′RIUS/ Klarios (derived from his celebrated temple at Claros in Asia Minor), CO′RYDUS/Korudos (from the temple eighty stadia from Corone, on the sea-coast), CY′NTHIUS and CY′NTHIA/Kunthia and Kunthios (surnames of Artemis and Apollo from island of Delos, which is their birthplace), DAPHNAEUS and DAPHNAEA/Daphnaia and Daphnaios (surnames of Artemis and Apollo), DECATE′PHORUS/ Dekatêphoros (that is, the god to whom the tenth part of the booty is dedicated), DE′LIUS and DE′LIA/ Dêlios and Dêlia or Dêlias (surnames of Apollo and Artemis respectively), DELPHINIUS and DELPHI′NIA/ Delphinia (a surname of Artemis at Athens & The masculine form Delphinius is used as a surname of Apollo), EPACTAEUS or EPA′CTIUS/ Epaktaios or Epaktios (the god worshipped on the coast, was also used as a surname of Poseidon in Samos) EPIBATE′RIUS/ Epibatêrios (the god who conducts men on board a ship), EPICU′RIUS/ Epikourios (the helper),

EUTRESITES/Eutrêsitês (derived from Eutresis, where he had a ancient Oracle), GALA′XIUS/Galaxios a (from Boeotia, derived from the stream Galaxius),

HEBDOMA′GETES/Hebdomagetês (was derived from the fact of sacrifices being offered to him on the seventh of every month, the seventh of some month which became the god's birthday), HECAERGUS/Hekaergos (same meaning as Hecaerge in the case of Artemis),HY′LATUS/Hulatos (derived from the town of Hyle in Crete, which was sacred to him), INTONSUS/unshorn, (surname of Apollo and Bacchus showing the eternal youth of these gods, beacuse the Greek youths allowed their hair to grow until they attained the age of manhood), ISME′NIUS/Ismenios (A surname of Apollo at Thebes), ISO′DETES/Isodetêg (the god who binds all equally, is also used as a surname of Pluto),I′XIUS/Ixios (derived from a district of the island of Rhodes which was called Ixiae or Ixia.), LAPHRAEUS/Laphraios (a surname of Apollo at Calydon), LEUCA′DIUS/ Leukasios (a son of Icarius and Polycaste, and a brother of Penelope and Alyzeus. Leucas was believed to have derived its name from him), LIBYSTI′NUS, LOE′MIUS/Loimios (the deliverer from plague),

LO′XIAS/Loxias (derived by some from his intricate and ambiguous oracles), LYCE′GENES/Lukêgenês (describing him either as the god born in Lycia, or as the god born of light), LYCEIUS/Lukeios (the meaning is not quite certain, some derive it from lukos, a wolf, so that it would mean "the wolf-slayer;" others from lukê, light, according to which it would mean "the giver of light;"), LY′CIUS/Lukios (the Lycian, a surname of Apollo, who was worshipped in several places of Lycia),

LYCO′REUS/Lukôreus (A surname of Apollo perhaps in the same sense as Lyceius), MALEATES/Maleatês (surname of Apollo, derived from cape Malea, in the south of Laconia),MARMARINUS/Marmarinos (the god of marble), MALLOEIS and MELUS/Mêlos (A son of Manto, from which the sanctuary of Apollo Malloeis in Lesbos was believed to have derived its name), MOIRA′GETES/Moiragetês (the guide or leader of fate, occurs as a surname of Zeus and Apollo at Delphi) MUSA′GETES/MUSAE (?), NO′MIUS/Noumios (surname of divinities protecting the pastures and shepherds sheared with Apollo, Pan. Hermes, and Aristaeus) ONCAEUS/Onkaios (a surname of Apollo derived from Oncesium on the river Ladon in Arcadia), PAEAN/Paian, Paiêôn or Paiôn (meaning "the healing," however, used also in the more general sense of deliverer from any evil or calamity, PAGASAEUS/ Pagasaios/the Pagasaean, from Pegasus, or Pegasae, (town in Thessaly, uses the surname of Apollo there.), PALATI′NUS, (surname of Apollo at Rome), PARNO′PIUS/Paruopios (the expeller of locusts) paruôps (a surname of Apollo, under which he had a statue on the acropolis at Athen), PARRHA′SIUS/Parrastos (A surname of Apollo, who had a sanctuary on Mount Lyceius, meaning “the helper”, PATAREUS/Patareus (derived from the Lycian town of Patara, where the god used to spend the six winter months in every year), PHILE′SIUS/Philêsios (surname of Apollo at Didyma, where Branchus was said to have founded a sanctuary of the god, and to have introduced his worship) PHOEBUS/ Phoibos (the shining, pure or bright, occurs both as an epithet and a name of Apollo), PHY′XIUS/Phuzios (the god who protects fugitives, also occurs as a surname of Zeus in Thessaly), PY′THIUS/Puthios the Pythian, from Pytho (the ancient name of Delphi, often occurs as a surname of Apollo), SALGANEUS/Salganeus (a surname of Apollo, derived from the town of Salganeus in Boeotia), SARPEDONIUS and SARPEDO′NIA/Sarpêdonia (a surname of Artemis, derived from cape Sarpedon in Cilicia, where she had a temple with an oracle, The masculine Sarpedonius occurs as a surname of Apollo in Cilicia.) SMINTHEUS/Smintheus (a surname of Apollo, which is derived by some from sminthos, a mouse, and from the town of Sminthe in Troas), SPO′DIUS/Spodios (a surname of Apollo at Thebes, derived from spodos, ashes, because his altar consisted of the ashes of the victims which had been sacrificed to him.), TEGYRE′IUS/Tegurêios (a surname of Apollo, derived from the town of Tegyra in Boeotia. where, according to some traditions, the god had been born), TELMI′SSIUS/Telmissios (a surname of Apollo derived from the Lycian town of Telnissus or Telmessus),TEMENITES/Temenitês (a surname of Apollo, derived from his sacred temenus in the neighbourhood of Syracuse), THEOXE′NIUS/Theoxenios (a surname of Apollo and Hermes), THYMBRAEUS/Thumbraios (A surname of Apollo, derived from a place in Troas called Thymbra, where he had a temple in which Achilles was wounded, or from a neighboring hill of the same name), ZOSTERIUS and ZOSTE′RIA/Zôstêria (a surname of Athena among the Epicnemidian Locrians, The masculine form Zosterius occurs as a surname of Apollo in Attica, on the slip of land stretching into the sea between Phaleron and Sunium)

Epithets•Abaeus, Apollo Acesius, Acestor, Acraephiaeus Apollo, Acraephius Apollo, Actiacus Apollo, Apollo Actiacus, Apollo Aegletes, Agetor, Agonius, Agraeus, Agyieus, Alexicacus,Amazonius, Anextiomarus, Aphetor Apollo, Aphetorius Apollo, Apollo Musagetes, Apollo Soranus, Apollo Apotropaeus, Apulu, Archegetes, Argyrotoxus Apollo, Apollo Articenens, Apollo Averruncus, Apollo Clarius, Apollo Coelispex, Apollo Culicarius, Apollo Cynthius, Apollo Cynthogenes, Delius Apollo, Apollo Delius, Apollo Delphinius, Apollo Didymaeus, Apollo Epicurius Apollo Galaxius, Apollo Genetor, Hecaërgus Apollo, Apollo Hecebolus, Hekatos, Helius Apollo, Apollo Helius, Apollo Iatromantis, Apollo Iatrus, Apollo Ismenius, Kourotrophos, Apollo Leschenorius, Leucadius, Apollo Loxias, Apollo Lycegenes, Lyceus, Apollo Lycoctonus, Manticus Apollo, Apollo Medicus, Apollo Nomius, Apollo Nymphegetes, Paean (god), Apollo Paean, Apollo Parnopius, Apollo Patroüs, Apollo Phanaeus, Ptoion, Ptous, Pythius Apollo, Apollo Pythius, Apollo Smintheus, Apollo Sosianus, Thyraeus, Virotutis. (I’m not gonna put who, why or what the epithets are, cut me some slack 😔)

Equivalents• Abru (Berber), Horus & Ra (Egyptian), Aplu (Etruscan), Helios (Greek), Apollo & Janus (Roman), Nergal (Aplu Enlil) (Semitic)

Offerings• Candles (he’s the god of light), Paint brushes/paints, Canvases, Colored pencils, markers, crayons, Collages, Journals, Art books, Art prints, Anything you mad, Sculptures, Zines, Stickers, Any art supplies, Music boxes, Records, CDs,Cassettes, Record players,radios, MP3, Headphones, Music posters, Band merch, Instruments (especially String instruments), Dance shoes, Concert tickets, CD book holders, Sun and Light imagery, Sunscreen, Aloe for sunburns, Golden objects, Matches, Candles, Sunflowers/sunflower seeds, First aid kits, Medicine, Pain relievers, Band - aids, Ice/heat packs, Rice socks, face Masks, Aloe, Ambulance toy cars,Adaptive aids, Darts, Bow and arrows, Arrow quiver, Dart board, Targets used in archery, Bullseye used in archery, Snake skins, Snake imagery (ex - Python), Laurels, Bay leaves (because of Daphne), Palm trees (based on his birth myth), Ravens/Crows related things, Crow feathers, Cattle/turtles (related to Hermes birth myth), Swans (the animals Pull His chariot), Hyacinths (Hyacinthus is his past lover), Locks of hair, Vanilla flavored/scented things , Honey, Sunny D drink, Lemons/lemon juice, Oranges/orange juice, Citrus, Water, chocolate milk (UPG), molten orange-scented wax cube used on an oil burner, The first bite of every meal (keep a tea plate close by at mealtimes), Pot Pourri, visit a clairvoyant, Welcome foreigners, teach others your own culture/language, make sure foreigners are able to find helpful resources and social life in your community, Make sure the street outside your house is clean and secure, Resin, Sun-shaped cookies or cakes, Wine, Golden cakes, Golden raisins.

Devonatal- Donate to medical charities, Support beginner indie artists and musicians, Sing to Him, Play musical instruments for Him, Hold dance parties in his honor, Make a playlist for Him and listen to it, Read poetry to Him, Take care of your mental health in his honor, take your medicine in his honor, Try/do archery in his honor, Try/do different types of divination (ex- Tarot/Oracle decks, Pendulums, Rune stones, Charm casting supplies, Crystal balls, Scrying bowls, Cookie fortunes, Tea leaves), Try and wake up early and watch the sun rise, Go for a walk and feel the warmth from the sun, Let more sunlight into your home/room, Learn a musical instrument, learn how to sing, Learn simple medical care (ex- CPR), research his family in his honor, research Apollon, Attend pride, advocate for LGBT+ rights, Wear yellow clothing in his honor, wear orange clothing in his honor, Honor Leto and Artemis in his honor, Pray to Him/ speak to Him often (ex- for guidance, healing/good health, and new inspiration, protection, improvement in your mental health, fertility, ecstasy, for everything going well in the health aspect), Dance and sing to your favorite songs or songs you’d think He would like, Throw a feast in His honor, Support/donate to your local Hospital in his honor, Exercise in his honor, Get vaccinated in his honor, Get STI tested in his honor, practice Self care in his honor, Keep a first aid kit at home/in your car in his honor, Learn about alternative medicine in his honor, Advocate for accessible in his honor, Advocate for disability rights in his honor, Volunteer at a hospital in his honor, Give blood/plasma in his honor; Volunteer at a retirement home in his honor, Learn about anatomy/biology/nutrition in his honor, Learn about health conditions/rare disorders in his honor, Eat healthy for your body in his honor, Help fund surgeries if you can in his honor, Trip sit for someone in his honor, Listen to your body when it needs something in his honor , Sunbathe in his honor, Wear sunscreen in his honor, Start a garden in his honor, Make sun water in his honor, Music Go to a concert/show, Listen to music in his honor, Make a playlist for someone you love in his honor, dance in general in his honor, Sing in general in his honor, Support local bands in his honor, Explore new music in his honor, Daily tarot card/rune stones sessions in his honor, Make an oracle deck in his honor, Give divination readings in his honor, do Shadow work in his honor , do Colormancy in his honor, Make something in his honor, Draw in his honor, paint in his honor, craft in his honor, Color something for him, Make a zine in his honor, Go see a play in his honor, Get a tattoo in his honor, Throw darts in his honor, Use a slingshot in his honor, Go to a shooting range in his honor, follow and support artist/poet YouTubers and their social media, Check in with your neighbors, do Photography (painting with light), light a candle in his honor because he’s the of…light!

Crystal•Sunstone, Citrine, Carnelian, Clear Quartz, Pyrite, Selenite, Lapis Lazuli, amber, calcite (only the color honey/yellow), quartz (rutilated or clear), rose quartz.

Parentage• Zues and Leto

Siblings• his full sibling was his twin Artemis, His half siblings were Athena, Hermes, Dionysus, Aphrodite, Ares, Hephaestus and Persephone, Heracles, Ares, Perseus, Hebe, Aphrodite, Athena, Some Muses, Eileithyia.

Works well with• people who are respectful, and are honest, and not boastful.

Jewelry • friendship bracelets

Hates• saying that your better than him, (too boastful), being to stubborn to learn (he is the god of knowledge.), and anything contradicting his godlyness

Mortal or immortal • immortal.

Zodiac • Leo.

Curses• Sickness, and often seeing yourself lying, and in trouble.

Blessings• your healthy and protection and purification.

Vows/omans• he swears he will be Hermes best friend, and that he will never marry (he still has godpouses, pretty frequently, just as a boyfriend) because he swore he would never because he couldn't choose between all the Muses.

Morals• Morally grey.

Courting• he is unmarried.

Past lovers & crushes• Admetus (a crush), Daphne (rejected him and he fell so in love she had to run away and turn into a tree..), all the nine muses (couldn’t choose so decided to never unwed), Cyrene (a crush), Evadne (a lover who bore him a child.), Rhoeo (bore him a child and made him raise it..) Ourea (had a crush on Apollo and they hooked up on his exile and bore him a kid), Thero, Hyrie or Thyrie (said they were lovers but he made them suicidal so..idk..). Hecuba (bore the child who made Apollo kill Achilles.), Coronis (bore him Asclepius), Creusa (bore him a child and left him to die and then to be raised by a priestess of Apollo.), Hyacinthus (his most dear male lover.), Cyparissus (a dear friend but still a honorable mention.), Admetus (a crush), Branchus, Adonis (poly with apollon and Aphrodite), Helenus, Hippolytus of Sicyon,Hymenaios, god of marriage hymns, Iapis, Phorbas, minthe (who he turned into mint)

Personality• He has a quick temper, He’s very energetic, cheerful, wise, honest and kind, but sometimes he could be jealous (from what I've heard.)

Fact• He was the god of so many things that even the Ancient Greeks got confused, Apollo was temporarily stripped of his immortal power by Zeus – twice (maybe y’all might have a little more in common with being atleast human once!), he tried to over throw his father Zeus once! (He failed.)

Roots• Greek mythology, born at Delos in Cyclades archipelago.

Appearance in astral or gen• depicted as a handsome, beardless youth with long hair and wears a wreath and branch of laurel, bow and quiver of arrows, usually accompanied with a raven, and holding a lyre.

Children• Acraepheus, Aeneus, Agamedes, Agreus, Amphiaraus, Amphissus, Amphithemis, Anius, Apis, Apollonis, Arabius, Aristaeus, Asclepius, Borysthenis, Cephisso, Chariclo, Cinyras, Coronus, Cycnus, Delphus, Dius, Dorus, Dryops of Oeta, Eleuther, Epidaurus, Eriopis, Erymanthus, Eumolpus, Eurydice, Eurynome, Hilaeira, Hymen (god), Ialemus, Iamus, Idmon (Argonaut), Ion, Ismenus, Korybantes, Laodocus, Lapithes (hero), Linus (Argive), Linus, Linus of Thrace, Lycomedes, Lycorus, Melaneus of Oechalia, Melite, Miletus, Mopsus, Naxos, Oaxes, Oncius, Orpheus, Phemonoe, Philammon, Philander, Phoebe, Phylacides, Polypoetes, Scylla, Syrus, Tenerus, Tenes, Troilus, Trophonius, Zeuxippus of Sicyon.

Pet• the swans pulling his chariot called the “singers of Apollo” or just “birds of Apollo”

Status• Greek mythology god, in the big theoi, not a Demi god.

Prayers•

Prayer to Lord Apollon for Help with Divination

Hear me, Foreseeing Apollon, Son of Indomitable Zeus and Gentle Leto, Brother to Far-Shooting Artemis. He who speaks of truth, If I have ever revelled in your sunlight, accept this prayer, Apollon Leader of Fate, I ask you to be with me during this divination and to guide my cards with your knowledge, I ask for your favour with a token of my praise, I offer to you (offering)- @praise-to-the-theoi

To Lord Apollon when taking medication

Hear me, healing Apollon, Father to Soothing Asklepios. He who controls both plague and healing, If I have ever honoured you, please accept this prayer, Shining Apollon, Please allow me to be safe when taking this medication, to aid it in its effectiveness, and to reduce the likelihood of negative side effects. I ask for your favour with a token of my praise, and I take this medication in your honour. -https://www.tumblr.com/praise-to-the-theoi

Prayer to Artemis and Apollon

Praise today, O Lord Apollo and Lady Artemis, rulers upon the Sun and Moon. The Celestial Twins, on this date, join each other in the sky, shining upon us their divine light and presence. Praise the children of Great Zeus and Leto; Hail Lady Artemis, the oldest daughter, who helped her mother at birth. Godess of the hunt, divine virgin, patroness of girls, their childhood and innocence. Hail Apollon, youngest son, born by his sister's hand. God of the plages and sickness. Patron of the arts, music and poetry. May they raise their bows and guide us towards their light. - serotoninbetweenpages

Prayer with his epithets in it-

Let us hymn Paean the great god, Apollo; Immortal, gloriously formed, unshorn, soft-haired, Stern-hearted, king, delighting in arrows, giver of life, Joyous, laughing, slayer of giants, sweet-hearted, Son of Zeus, slayer of dragons, lover of the laurel, Sweet of speech, of ample might, far-shooter, giver of hope, Creator of animals, divine, Jove-minded, giver of zeal, Mild, sweet-spoken, sweet-hearted, gentle-handed, Slayer of beasts, blooming, charmer of the spirit, soft-speaking, Shooter of arrows, desirable, healer, charioteer, Weaver of the world, Clarian, strong-hearted, father of fruits, Son of Leto, pleasant, delighting in the lyre, resplendent, Lord of the mysteries, prophet, magnanimous, thousand-shaped, Lover of the bow-string, wise, stiller of grief, sober,Lover of community, common to all, taking thought for all, benefactor of all, Blessed, making blessed, Olympian, dweller on the hills, Gentle, all-seeing, sorrowless, giver of wealth, Saviour from trouble, rose-coloured, man-breaker, path-opener, Glittering, wise, father of light, saviour, Delighting in the dance, Titan, initiator, revered, Chanter of hymns, highest, stately, of the height, Phoebus, purifier, lover of garlands, cheerer of the spirit, Utterer of oracles, golden, golden-complexioned, golden-arrowed, Lover of the lyre, harper, hater of lies, giver of the soul, Swift-footed, swift-voiced, swift of vision, giver of seasons. Let us hymn Paean the great god, Apollo.

- Epigram from Book 9 of the Greek Anthology, translated by W.R. Paton (1916-18)

Links/websites/sources •

@praise-to-the-theoi

ofbloodandfaith

Reddit · r/Hellenism5 comments · 1 year agosimple offerings for apollo? : r/Hellenism

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apollo#Children https://www.thoughtco.com/roman-equivalents-of-greek-gods-4067799https://www.reddit.com/r/Hellenism/comments/d20s5v/would_amber_be_an_appropriate_incense_for_apollo/https://www.reddit.com/r/GreekMythology/comments/du0z4k/did_the_olympian_gods_have_particular_color/https://www.tumblr.com/eldritchhorror06https://www.tumblr.com/themodernwitchsguidehttps://web.pdx.edu/~scarmody/art342/exercise2/index.html#:~:text=Animals%20sacred%20to%20Apollo%20include,foxes%2C%20mice%2C%20and%20snakes.

let the light in and let your truth of loving Apollo shine aswell

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naffeclipse · 6 months

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Have you considered writing a cowboy DCA au? Or a vampire AU?

I have ideas for both! I mention my Vampire AU in my Laundry List of AUs Post, but I haven't talked about a Cowboy AU yet!

For my cowboy AU, Y/N owns a prairie house and a small patch of land out in the wild west. You work hard and make do even though you're falling behind on payments and falling deeper into debt and danger of the bank taking your property back. It's a tough life. You know that.

Nothing exciting happens around here until one day you see a figure riding in from the distance. An animatronic on a horse. You're a bit weary of strangers, especially out here, where cattle rustlers and outlaws are aplenty, so you greet the rider with a shotgun. He's all smiles and hand waves, his sun rays partly hidden underneath his hat. There's a shiny pistol in the holster on his belt and a rifle hanging off his back. A large bag is strapped to the saddle. He's careful to not reach for something he shouldn't, and you let him dismount to talk to you, lowering your weapon.

He reassures you he means no trouble and that he just needs shelter for the night, if you don't mind. He's more than willing to offer a helping hand in exchange. He's a talker, sweet and charming, and you're not in a position to refuse extra farm help. You put him to work. He does it all without complaint which you appreciate.

There's a moment when you take a break from the back-breaking work to lie down in the field, staring up at the sky. Your eyes end up closing. You feel a gentle shadow over you. When you look up, Sun is there, casting blissfully cool shade and asking if it's alright for him to stand here. You tell him it's just fine. You ask him if there's any worry of him overheating. He says no, but thank you kindly for the concern.

Later, when you check in the barn, you notice that the large bag that was on his horse is now gone.

You don't want any trouble.

At sundown, when you call for him to come inside, you're greeted with a different animatronic, still smiling and soothing and promising that it's the same cowboy, please put the shotgun down. You've never met an animatronic like him. Sun. Moon. You let him come inside.

You spend a quiet night with the cowboy. He helps you clean up your dishes even though he had no part in the mess-making. There's little talk of where he came from or where he's going, but he mentions lying low for a while. You don't want to know. You don't ask. He asks if he might touch the guitar you have there in the corner. You tell him that's fine. You haven't played it in a long time. He serenades the night with plucked chords and twaining strings, and somehow, you fall asleep listening to the gentle strums and wake up the next morning in your bed.

Sun greets you all cheerful. You don't know what to feel about having another around to talk to... but you're adjusting. He asks for another day's work for another night's lodging. You agree. He smiles so big you're afraid he'll burst.

You get a visit from a fellow farmer (Sun makes himself scarce on the rare chance a visitor comes) who talks about the news, the gangs rolling through the valley, the cattle missing, and a distant bank just recently robbed. You shake your head.

Later, in the barn, you're shifting hay on the hayloft when you step back and expect to find solid flooring but there's nothing but air and you're falling—then caught in solid arms. Sun exclaims how you have to be careful! You would have gotten hurt. You wish he would put you down already, holding you like this turns you all red and embarrassed. Even when he sets you on your feet, Sun insists he finishes with the hay up top. Your pride is awfully stung but the ghost of his arms around you chases you outside and it's only there that you can finally think clearly after all the excitement.

When night falls, Moon helps you deal with a fox in the chicken pen but in chasing off the fiend, something snaps along his arm when he hops a fence and you know that ugly sound means something's broken. Wires spark in the dark. You rush to his side faster than you've ever run. You gingerly hold his arm and guide him back home to fix the damage done even though you're only a support to his injury, and he, thankfully, can tend to himself. He says he's learned how to take care of little problems like these since he's been running by himself for a while. You almost ask what he did before he came here but you don't dare. You told yourself you didn't want trouble. Getting attached will do nothing but stir up your feelings. There will be no one else to blame if your heart gets broken.

He picks at the guitar strings to test his repair and sings a little song that you swear you won't fall asleep to but, again, you wake up in your bed when you know you didn't tuck yourself in. Sun is already outside, getting a jumpstart on the day's chores.

The cowboy stays another night, then another, and then a few weeks have flown by. You get a visitor from the bank asking for payment or else they're taking your land and everything on it. You chase off the man, spitting mad, but you're still in troubled waters. You're going to lose all you have. Sun witnesses the encounter from a distance but you don't speak of it all day. Then, Sun finds you when the sun burns red across the sky.

He talks softly to you and before you know it, he's leading you by the hand and spinning you in a little dance you've never danced before. Sun leads, and you follow because he's the last light you have, and when he dips you low, you rise with the Moon in the near darkness, dancing and dancing on dirt. You've never held a hand that felt so right with his arms twirling you around and around—you almost forget you're going to lose it all.

Besides the crackle of the fire in your hearth that night, Moon coaxes you to talk about the money you owe and your pride almost bites your tongue off but you do it anyway. Moon asks when the bank man is going to come again. You tell him in the morning but you don't want charity. You don't need it. You owe enough debts as it is. He gives you a grin that is too mischievous for his own good.

That night, you lean against his shoulder when he plays a gentle song, a ballad about lovers falling and magnolias blooming. You wake up in your bed but it's still dark out and Moon is gone. You get up to find him but he's already at the door, holding a large bag—the one that was missing from his saddle. He tells you to pay the bank when they come and get a receipt. You ask him what in blue blazes he's doing with a bag full of money but he shoves it in your hands. Morning spills across the land. Then it's Sun winking at you. The bank is coming. He tells you he needs to go now, but he promises to come back for you.

You tell him you can't owe him like this—you'll never be able to repay it. Sun promises that you won't owe him anything, he'll get the money back.

You can hardly be angry before he's on his horse and taking off into the distance. You curse yourself out for being a fool and having a heart that wants to stick roots into anything that lingers longer for a day and for having this bag of money that isn't yours and for letting that cowboy dance and serenade you, but when the bank sends another man to collect, you pay it all. You get that receipt. The man accepts the payment and goes on his merry way, back to the bank that can no longer hound you. All of your debts are erased, thanks to the cowboy.

You don't know where he was hiding the money. You remember the news of a distant bank that was robbed.

It's only a few days later that you learn from a fellow farmer that the man carrying back your money to the bank was ambushed. An animatronic outlaw caught him alone. He stole the entire bag of cash. The farmer laughs when he says the bank man was madder than a wet hen. He also remarks that he's surprised they didn't come after you for more money, but you had a receipt. They can't touch you.

After the farmer leaves, you sit in a daze and then curse the cowboy out again. You still owe him.

You didn't want trouble, yet here you are, all twitterpated and waiting for when he comes down from the horizon.

#okay that's like the beginning but there's a very dangerous gang and sun/moon weren't always running on his own #and of course he comes back #but he accidentally brings the very thing he was running from back to you oops #turns out he's a slippery fellow and well someone wants him #and you're the sweetest honey to use to catch their fly #cowboy au #cowboy!sun #cowboy!moon #magnolias blooming #i didn't mean to write this much but uhhh here we are

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greenwitchcrafts · 1 day

Text

May 2024 witch guide

Full moon: May 23rd

New moon: May 7th

Sabbats: Beltane-May1st

May Flower Moon

Known as: Bright Moon, Budding Moon, Dyad Moon, Egg Laying Moon, Frog Moon, Hare Moon, Leaf Budding Moon, Merry Moon, Moon of the Shedding Ponies, Planting Moon, Sproutkale, Thrimilcmonath & Winnemanoth

Element: Fire

Zodiac: Taurus & Gemini

Nature spirits: Elves & Faeries

Deities: Aphrodite, Artemis, Bast, Cernunnos, Diana, Frigga, Flora, Horned God, Kali, Maia, Pan, Priapus & Venus

Animals: Cat, leopard & lynx

Birds: Dove, Swallow & Swan

Trees: Hawthorne & rowan

Herbs: Cinnamon, dittany of Crete, Elder, mint, mugwort & thyme

Flowers: Foxglove, lily of the valley & rose

Scents: Rose & sandalwood

Stones: Amber, Apache tear, carnelian, emerald, garnet, malachite, rose quartz, ruby, tourmaline & tsavorite

Colors: Brown, green, orange, pink & yellow

Energy: Abundance, creative energy, faerie & spirit contact, fertility, intuition, love, marriage, material gains, money, propagation, prosperity, real-estate dealings, relationships & tenacity

May’s Flower Moon name should be no surprise; flowers spring forth across North America in abundance this month!

• “Flower Moon” has been attributed to Algonquin peoples, as confirmed by Christina Ruddy of The Algonquin Way Cultural Centre in Pikwakanagan, Ontario.

May’s Moon was also referred to as the “Month of Flowers” by Jonathan Carver in his 1798 publication, Travels Through the Interior Parts of North America: 1766, 1767, 1768 (pp. 250-252), as a likely Dakota name. Carver stayed with the Naudowessie (Dakota) over a period of time; his expedition covered the Great Lakes region, including the Wisconsin and Minnesota areas.

Beltane

Known as: Beltaine, May day, Roodmas & Cethsamhain

Season: Spring

Symbols: Eggs, faeries, fire, flowers & maypoles

Colors: Blue, dark yellow, green, light pink, orange, red, white yellow & rainbow spectrum

Oils/Incense: Frankincense, lilac, passion flower, rose, tuberose & vanilla

Animals: Bee, cattle, goat & rabbit

Mythical: Faeries

Stones: Bloodstone, emerald, lapis lazuli, orange carnelian, rose quartz & sapphire

Food: Beltane cakes, cherries, dairy foods, farls, green herbal salads, honey, meade, nuts, oat cakes, oats, strawberries & sweets

Herbs/Plants: Almond, ash tree, birch, bramble, cinquefoil, damiana, frankincense, hawthorn, ivy, meadowsweet, mushroom, rosemary, saffron, satyrion root, St.John's wort & woodruff

Flowers: Angelica, bluebell, daisy, hibiscus, honeysuckle, lilac, marigold, primrose, rose, rose hips & yellow cowslips

Trees: Ash, cedar, elder, fir, hawthorn, juniper, linden, mesquite, oak, pine, poplar, rowan & willow

Goddesses: Aphrodite, Areil, Artemis, Cybele, Danu, Diana, Dôn, Eiru, Elen, Eostre, Fand, Flidais, Flora, Freya, Frigga, Maia, Niwalen, Rhea, Rhiannon, Var, Venus & Xochiquetzal

Gods: Baal, Bacchnalia, Balder, Belanos, Belenus, Beli, Beltene, Cernunnos, Cupid, Faunus, Freyr, Grannus, The Green Man, Lares, Lugh, Manawyddan, Odin, Pan, Puck & Taranis

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Agriculture, creativity, fertility, lust, marriage, the otherworld/Underworld, pleasure, psychic ability, purification, sensuality, sex/uality, visions, warmth & youth

Spellwork: Birth, Earth magick, healing, health & pregnancy

Activities:

• Create a daisy chain or floral decorations

• Decorate & dance around a Maypole

• Set up an outdoor altar & leave offerings to faeries

• Prepare a ritual bath with fresh flowers

• Light a bonfire or candles & dance around them

• Set aside time for self care

• Gather flowers & use them to decorate your home or altar

• Prepare a feast to celebrate with friends/family

• Make flower crowns

• Bake bannocks, oat cakes or cookies

• Hang wreaths decorated with ribbons & flowers

• Plant flowers in your garden

• Start a wish book/box/journal

• Go on a walk & gice thanks to nature⁸

• Cast fertility or a bunch spells

• Fill small baskets of flowers & small goodies, then leave them on your friends/neighbors doorstep as a gesture of goodwill & friendship

Beltane is mentioned in the earliest Irish literature and is associated with important events in Irish mythology. Also known as Cétshamhain ('first of summer'), it marked the beginning of summer & was when cattle were driven out to the summer pastures. Rituals were performed to protect cattle, people & crops, and to encourage growth. (Today, Witches who observe the Wheel of the Year celebrate Beltane as the height of Spring.)

Special bonfires were kindled, whose flames, smoke & ashes were deemed to have protective powers. The people and their cattle would walk around or between bonfires & sometimes leap over the flames or embers. All household fires would be doused & then re-lit from the Beltane bonfire.

These gatherings would be accompanied by a feast, and some of the food and drink would be offered to the aos sí. Doors, windows, byres and livestock would be decorated with yellow May flowers, perhaps because they evoked fire.

In parts of Ireland, people would make a May Bush: typically a thorn bush or branch decorated with flowers, ribbons, bright shells & rushlights. Holy wells were also visited, while Beltane dew was thought to bring beauty & maintain youthfulness.

• The aos sí (often referred to as spirits or fairies) were thought to be especially active at Beltane. Like Samhain, which lies directly opposite from Beltane on the Wheel of the Year, this was seen as a time when the veil between worlds was at its thinnest. At Samhain the veil between the worlds of the living & the dead is thin enough that we can connect & convene with our beloved dead, here at Beltane it’s the veil between the human world, and the world of faeries & nature spirits that has grown thin. Offerings would be left at the ancient faerie forts, the wells and in other sacred places in an effort to appease these nature spirits to ensure a successful growing season.

Some believe this is when The Goddess is now the Mother & the God is seen as the Green Man or the wild stag. It celebrates the symbolic union, mating or marriage of the Goddess & God & heralds in the coming summer months. It represents life rather than Samhain on the opposite side of the Wheel of the Year.

Other Celebrations:

• Rosealia- May 23rd

Rosalia or Rosaria was a festival of roses celebrated on various dates, primarily in May, but scattered through mid-July. The observance is sometimes called a rosatio ("rose-adornment") or the dies rosationis, "day of rose-adornment," & could be celebrated also with violets. As a commemoration of the dead, the rosatio developed from the custom of placing flowers at burial sites. It was among the extensive private religious practices by means of which the Romans cared for their dead, reflecting the value placed on tradition (mos maiorum, "the way of the ancestors"), family lineage & memorials ranging from simple inscriptions to grand public works. Several dates on the Roman calendar were set aside as public holidays or memorial days devoted to the dead.

Roses had funerary significance in Greece, but were particularly associated with death & entombment among the Romans. In Greece, roses appear on funerary steles & in epitaphs most often of girls. Flowers were traditional symbols of rejuvenation, rebirth &memory, with the red & purple of roses & violets felt to evoke the color of blood as a form of propitiation

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

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flowerishness · 1 year

Photo

Pieris japonica (Japanese andromeda var: ‘Valley Valentine’)

Japanese andromeda is a common early-spring, flowering shrub and it comes in cream-colored to pinkish-red varieties. ‘Valley Valentine’ is probably the darkest red of them all, and this one’s putting on quite a show just up the street. The flowers last for about two weeks and this specimen is over ten feet tall.

There is a health warning on this plant. It’s deadly poisonous to humans, cats, dogs, goats, horses and cattle. If you eat the leaves or flowers of Japanese andromeda symptoms may include; salivation, headaches, vomiting, cardiac failure, and death. Japanese andromeda may be beautiful but be careful where you plant it. Consider this a public service announcement from your friends @flowerishness.

#flowers #photographers on tumblr #Japanese andromeda #pieris japonica #spring flowers #fleurs #flores #fiori #blumen #bloemen #Vancouver

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lostinwildflowers · 1 year

Text

The Farmer's Daughter

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: You and Jake go way back to his roots in Texas, with things ending in a rough manner. Now, he comes home to the farmer's daughter whose heart he swore he would never ride, or fly, off with.

Word Count: 4.0K

Warnings: Angst, Harsh Language, Hangman was lowkey a jerk, Cowboy!Hangman

A/N: *I will say if you are not a fan of ranch/farm life, this may not be for you!* But, I'm finally back to write something! I'm sorry it has taken so long but I have been so incredibly busy, but I hope this will be a good enough apology! COWBOY HANGMAN!!! -Birch<3

Part 2 - The Aviator's Cowgirl

Wind roars across the grassy plains of the valley, ruffling the dense coats of various colored cattle. Some were red, some were black. Others were red and white, while others were roaned and speckled in color.

The cows were quietly cruising through the glen, making their way down south toward the greener pastures. Spring was finally on its way, with warmer, sunnier days followed by even oranger sunsets.

Many of the calves clung close to their mothers after the spring calving, not wanting to be too far from the herd. Some of the cows were bolder, leaving their calves further away, then having to call and bellow to find their distant young.

It was one of the most beautiful things, living out on a cattle ranch. There was no sign of the city in any direction, and you got to raise the food that would supply you and your family through the seasons. Some may call it cruel, but others would say you were using what God gave you to live on.

Hours spent in the fields were not wasted on you. Plowing the land and fertilizing the dry, cracked soil, were not foreign ideas to you. Sowing seeds into the prepped ground, watering them to give them a chance at survival.

To you, there was no other life than being a rancher.

Being a rancher had its perks- making the best friends a man could have. The dogs, of course. The horses, even more so. And yet, nothing could beat the compassion and care of a friendly neighbor.

Growing up on your homestead, the next closest ranch was a few acres away. They never were close enough to see any of their cattle or pigs, and you had only been to their house as a kid.

Being a kid seemed so long ago.

Now, you spent most days sitting on the back of your palomino mare, Sandy. Days like today were spent watching your herd move down the mountain and into the plains of the valley. You didn't always use to be alone when you pushed the herd.

Occasionally your father would join you, but he had other matters to attend to, and your brothers always seemed to join him. Not that you cared, as riding horses was perhaps your favorite aspect of being a rancher.

You would check fences, push the cows, and ride up to the top of meadows to watch the sunset over your home. To you, there was nothing like the connection you had while riding a horse, and you wouldn't have given her up for anything.

At one point in time, you would have given every possession you had up for a certain cowboy.

Tall and muscular, with blonde hair, and green eyes. The classic, square-jawed look of a cowboy. A sharp tongue paired with an even quicker wit, combined with a charming personality and smile was the death of you.

It didn't help he was always willing to help out. Roping the calves for the brandings, fixing up the four-wheeler that seemed to stall every time you got it out. Even going as far as to bring your mother some of their fresh apples in the fall when your trees gave out.

He was kind-hearted, chivalrous, and down-to-earth. He was the definition of God's cowboy.

Jake Seresin.

The first time you ran into him was when you were at the farmer's market in town. Your mother had given you a specific list of items to get for her homemade chicken casserole, as she was busy picking up your younger sister from her riding lesson.

The stalls at the farmer's market were not unfamiliar to you, as you had tagged along with your mother many times as a child. The sellers were always kind to you and had Texas-sized personalities to go along with the enormous amounts of ingredients and produce they sold.

"Good morning, Mrs. Bell," you call as you walk up to the older lady's stand, looking over her collection of fresh berries and vegetables hand-picked from her garden.

A white head of hair popped out from the back of her tent, a wide grin on the older lady's face as she replies, "Oh, good morning, dear! Help yourself to whatever you need, I'm just having some help unloading my crates."

At that, Mrs. Bell disappears, and you giggle at her antics as you start to bag up a few peppers and tomatoes from her stand. It was a fairly quiet morning, so you took a moment to look around your surroundings.

A few older gentlemen were setting up their meat stand. You could see cuts of chickens, turkeys, and wild geese sitting on ice just as they worked on the larger carcasses of steers and barrows.

Your concentration is broken when you hear rustling at the back of the tent, and you turn around, clenching the bag of veggies close to you.

A boy donning a tan Stetson appears in front of you, his muscular arms holding a large crate of cucumbers as he slid through the folds of the white tent. His green eyes lock onto your own (colored) ones, and in an instant, his boyish charm captivates you in the form of a beautiful smirk.

"Good morning, Miss...?" he asks, a slight drawl to his rich voice as you take him in. He's wearing his cowboy hat, yes, but his hair was shaggy under the hat, a dirty blonde that you knew his friends probably teased him for.

He wore a simple navy t-shirt, as the morning was already warm. You allowed yourself to rest your eyes on the snug Wrangler jeans that hugged his waist, accentuated by the large and shiny belt buckle that finished off his look. You almost could have bet he wore a pair of boots too, but you snapped out of your daze before you could finish thinking about it.

"Y/n," you usher out, warm with embarrassment as he sets the crate down in the open spot in front of you. His green eyes are as sharp as jade when he regains eye contact with you, and his head tilts a little as he repeats, "Y/n...?"

You groan internally as you scold yourself for being so starstruck. You blink once to regain your cool, before shifting your weight and responding, "Y/n L/n. And who are you, cowboy?"

A low whistle slides out from his pink lips before he chuckles out, "Pretty name for an even more gorgeous girl. And as long as I can get your phone number, you can call me anything you want."

Being six feet underground had never sounded better at that moment, as his shameless flirting had your cheeks burning and your will to live dropping. You were thankfully saved from responding when Mrs. Bell popped up next to him and scolded, "Jake, you leave my favorite customer alone!"

You glance back over at him, quirking an eyebrow and you ask, "Jake, is it?" You whistle back at him and say, "Kind of a basic name for a basic cowboy, huh?"

Mrs. Bell folds her arms, watching the two of you with a knowing look in her eye. The cowboy, Jake, lets that wide smirk back onto his face and repeats, "It's a great name, for a great cowboy. I think it'd sound good next to your name too."

You do your best to ignore his flirtatious comments, and you look at Mrs. Bell and show her your bag of veggies. "Just three red peppers and four tomatoes," you say, willing the butterflies out of your stomach.

The older lady gives you a wink as she rings you up, and briefly turns to Jake and says, "Be a dear and go finish getting the rest of my crates, please."

He gives her a respectful nod and catches your gaze again, this time with a softer smile. Jake tips his Stetson towards you and murmurs, "Have a nice day, Miss. L/n."

You swore you were as red in the cheeks as the vegetables your mother was making you buy. Thanks, Mom, I'm pretty sure I'll never be able to look Mrs. Bell in the eye ever again.

The next time you met the blonde-haired cowboy was just at the start of summer, kicked off by the county fair you were always a part of. It was either submitting some of your favorite photographs from the ranch or helping your little sister prep her show steer for her 4-H competition.

And this time, Jake caught you at a shaved ice stand just after 6 o'clock in the evening, with the rays from the sun starting to fade into a mirage of colors across the fairgrounds.

He slid into the line behind you, as you were the only one crazy enough to get shaved ice in the evening as it cooled off. That smirk ended up on his lips again, and he announced himself with an order, "Make that another of whatever Miss. L/n is ordering, please."

You whip around at the drawl to his voice, cash in hand as your eyes widen. No. No. No. This is the worst time for this cute cowboy to be seeing me. My hair certainly has fuzz in it from our steer, my clothes are covered in mud, and I don't have any makeup on. Shit.

And Jake? Looked phenomenal. Wearing his Stetson, of course, with a tight white t-shirt that clung to every single unholy part of his body. The thin material led down to a deep blue pair of Wranglers, along with his buckle and boots.

He looked like a walking model from Ariat or Kimes, and here you were, looking like you had just finished wrestling a lamb from its ewe mother through a bale of straw.

"J-Jake," you stutter out as the attendant goes to make another shaved ice. His grin only widens when he realizes how caught off guard you are and he chuckles, "You miss me or something, sweetheart?"

You can't help the warmth that floods your face, and you know it's not from the sun, especially with the evening cooling off. Sweetheart? He certainly knows how to lay it on thick.

"I didn't realize you came to the fair," you opt to say, trying to ignore his flirty comment. He leans up against the side of the shaved ice stand as his green gaze latches onto your own and states, "Honey, I've been coming to this fair before I could go mutton-busting."

A giggle falls from your lips as you picture a little Jake riding on the back of a sheep, clinging on for dear life. He chuckles at your response to his comment, his gaze flashing up to the cashier as he fishes a $10 from his wallet. You finish giggling right as he passes the cash to the attendant and you frown.

"We're paying sep-" "It's alright, Miss. L/n, I got it," Jake says smoothly, grabbing both cups of the watermelon-flavored shaved ice and handing one to you. He shoots a wink at you as his fingers brush your own, and you once again find yourself fighting pink from your cheeks.

"Y/n," you say once you grabbed your shaved ice and spoon from him. He quirks his eyebrow at you but doesn't say anything. You roll your eyes and repeat with a shrug, "Y/n, you can call me by my first name."

Jake smiles at you, this time very genuine as he nods, "Alright, Y/n," he tests your name out, "Would you care to join me at the tractor pulls tonight? I know where the best seats are."

It's your turn to flash him a wicked grin and say, "Hell yeah, we need to go make fun of my brothers!" At that, you peel off away from him, leading the way toward the pulling lanes with a maniacal giggle. Jake can only smile and shake his head as he follows your figure.

What had he gotten himself into?

It didn't take long after the fair for the two of you to really hit it off. Casual hangouts turned into dinner dates out at the local diner. Short texts turned into long, midnight calls asking each other about how your day was, even if every day was almost the same.

Days turned into weeks, which turns into months as Jake spent time with you. He would spend any chance he could with you when he wasn't working or helping Mrs. Bell. He'd pull into your driveway, picking you up in his red and white '77 Ford truck, the pinstripes of red on it soon became one of your favorite colors.

You would take him out on the trails of your family's farm, trotting through the creeks, loping through the pastures. Jake was a cowboy, yes, and knew how to ride, but nothing made you happier than seeing him get along with Sandy, your mare.

He would even take you down to his family's farm, driving out into the pastures to watch the sunset over his fields of horses. Many nights would lead to the two of you cuddling up on the bed of his truck, surrounded by a blanket and a stray pillow or two.

You never had been more in love than when Jake pulled you into his arms and made you dance under the stars with him to Carried Away by George Strait. It was that very night Jake kissed you for the first time, and you could swear he knew exactly what he was doing when he claimed your heart as his own.

From then on, you were his, and he was yours. Everyone was ecstatic you had found a respectful man, although a bit of a tease, to stand by your side. Jake devoted himself to you and working on his father's farm, promising you a life of happiness.

It was almost expected that you were going to marry Jake someday. He had the same values as you and wanted a nice little family of a few crazy boys and some pretty little girls. He wanted to teach them how to ride, how to rope.

He wanted you to make dinner for him when the days got too long for him to help, and for him to clean the dishes while you put the kids to bed. Jake could picture his future so easily with you, you weren't ever like anyone he'd ever met before.

That's why two years into your relationship with the cowboy, he got you a promise ring for your anniversary. It was a simple silver band, as he knew you worked with your hands every day and would likely abuse a ring with a large stone on it.

Jake held the ring in his right hand, asking for your left one slightly. You couldn't help but cry and laugh at the same time as you nodded, giving him your hand to slide the ring onto.

You wrapped your arms around his neck in a tight hug, his hands landing on your waist before wrapping snugly around your body. His grip was firm and unwavering, a solid constant in your life.

"I want you to think of me when you wear this ring, okay?" Jake whispered softly in your ear, holding you close to him. You sniffle and pull back, giving him a nod with watery eyes.

"I'll always think of you, Jake."

And the next day he was gone.

"Go on, git!" you yell at a loose heifer running away from the herd. You groan as she runs off into the woods, and you push the sorrel gelding you were riding into a trot to go after her. The rest of the herd started grazing as you left them, the wind whipping through the dried grasses around you.

It was a cold day in Texas. Your grey felt cowboy hat did its best to keep the wind off of your face, and even with your warmest jacket and wild rag tied around your neck, you still felt chilled and numb to your core.

It had been a hard few months when Jake disappeared without a trace. Mrs. Bell had no one to help her at her tent in the farmer's market, so you picked up the slack to help her.

Your dad grew sick and couldn't run the farm as readily, so you, your brothers, and your sister had to step in, while your mother took care of him. That meant you spent more time in the saddle, working all the horses and pushing the cows to the hay and silage for the winter.

Your gloved fingers reach for the rope tied to your saddle horn, and as you made your loop, your (colored) eyes found the young heifer again. You slow the gelding you were riding down, Ringo, he was called, as you come up to the small cow.

You could tell she was frightened, so while she didn't run, you gently threw the loop over her head and dallied the rope to your saddle horn. You glance over your shoulder, ensuring the rope was secured around the heifer's neck before dragging her out of the woods and back to the herd.

When the herd comes in sight, confusion floods over you to see Sandy, your palomino mare, being ridden. It wasn't your sister, she had her own bay gelding she liked to ride.

And it wasn't your brothers, as they preferred the four-wheelers. There was only one other person who rode your horse other than you. It was a cowboy. And not just any cowboy.

It was your cowboy.

The silver band on your left ring finger seemed to freeze over with a gust of wind, even though it was covered by your gloves. You can feel tears threatening to burn the edges of your eyes, but you ignore them.

It was him.

Trotting around the edge of the herd, keeping them close together, Jake steered Sandy perfectly, riding her with a practiced ease, like he had never left. You continue to drag the heifer up to the edge of the herd, where he finally catches sight of you.

You can't stand to look at him, and you leave your rope dallied to your horn as you swing your chap-covered leg off of Ringo and onto the ground. Tears stream down your face as you try not to sob, and you walk over to the scared heifer.

You slide the rope off of her neck, and she gets up and runs off to join the herd. You can hear Sandy's footsteps stop next to Ringo, and you hear Jake's feet hit the ground.

Sobs silently wrack your body, and you close your eyes and cover your face as you hear him approach you. He doesn't say anything, but you know he's standing directly behind you, waiting.

A gust of wind blows through, making you gasp for air as it seems to leave your lungs. The tears on your cheeks feel like they freeze to your skin as your vision blurs and a loud cry falls from your lips.

And that's enough for Jake.

He takes two large steps forward, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist from behind. His large frame helps block the wind, yet his touch makes your cries get more violent.

You turn around in his grasp, your gloved fists coming up and punching him in the chest. You're sobbing and thrashing, completely overcome with emotion.

Jake doesn't budge though. He's harder, firmer under your touch than you remember. From the blur in your vision, you can just barely tell that his shaggy locks have been cleaned up into a tight, slicked-back look under his Stetson.

How you had missed that damned straw hat.

"How could you?!" you scream as you lash out at him, a sob leaving your lips at the end of your cry. Jake just holds you tighter, and he takes his chances and pulls you into a close hug, wrapping his arms around your waist to stop your onslaught of attacks.

Your hands get trapped against his chest, yet your whimpers don't end. You can just barely hear Jake shushing you, the sound of his voice blending in with the whisper of the wind floating over you.

"How could you?" you mumble, your voice breaking at the end of your question. Jake pulls you impossibly closer, the felt hat on your head getting bumped off center, but you couldn't bring yourself to care.

"I never meant to leave you," he states, his voice different than how you remember it. There was no familiar twang to his voice, it was harder, more neutral. He didn't sound like himself. You push off of him, fighting through the new strength he seemed to come back with.

You push your hat back down onto your head, brushing away the tears from your eyes and cheeks with the backside of your gloves. You stand back and take him in. He's wearing the clothes of the man you loved, but he certainly didn't look like the Jake you remember.

He was broader than before. Wider from shoulder to shoulder, no doubt covered in more muscle. He was clean-shaven, with no sign of the stubble or beard you grew to love on him. Even his eyes had harshened, they weren't as sweet or soft as you recalled.

"How could you leave me like that?" you ask quietly again, not happy with his answer. "You left me after that night, Jake. You LEFT me after you gave me this damn ring!" At that, you pulled your left glove off, the silver band immediately catching the cool light from the overcast sun, gleaming as if it were brand new.

You could feel a wave of new, hot tears burning at the edges of your eyes, but you pushed them down and continued, "I waited every day, Jake. For a call, a text, or a letter in the mail. And I got nothing." Your voice dropped deadly quiet on the last word, a lone tear streaming down your cheek.

You couldn't read the emotion on Jake's face, as it was perfectly masked. You huff once to catch your breath and then you yell, "Say something, dammit!"

Another gust of wind blows through, and Jake glances down at his boots before regaining eye contact with you. The jade color of his eyes had dimmed, and when he gazed at you, you didn't know how to feel.

"I never stopped loving you, Y/n. I had to leave, even though I really didn't want to," he starts. He takes a step toward you, but you take another step back, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively.

Jake can feel his heart crack at the way you're looking at him. It was never supposed to be like this. You seem to glare daggers at him and whisper, "You always have a choice." He swallows thickly, averting his gaze, and continues, "Not this time, I didn't."

You groan in frustration and whip around in a circle, heading back for the horses, but Jake catches your free hand in his own. His rough fingers catch your left hand, the feeling of his skin on yours enough to make you stop in your tracks.

"Y/n, please wait," he calls out. You immediately snap back, "I waited 6 damn months, Jake! You just up and disappeared! No one would tell me where you were or what happened to you."

You rip your hand out of his, quickly shoving your gloves into the pocket of your jacket. You pull the promise ring off of your ring finger and looking him in the eye, you slam it up against his chest.

With tears in your eyes you whisper, "I'm tired of thinking about you Jake, because every time I think of you, I think about how you left me with nothing."

He doesn't move as you pull away from him, grabbing the reins of both Ringo and Sandy, you mount the gelding you had been riding. With your rope recoiled and Sandy next to you ready to pony, you look back at him.

"I'm sure you can find your own way out of this damn pasture," you say coldly as you lope off, Sandy trotting next to you as you bypass the herd of cows.

And as you ride off toward your homestead, tears streaming down your cheeks, Jake is left standing in the pasture with snow falling around him, holding the ring that had previously bound him to you.

Tag list: @xxdragonwriterxx @tejxswini @mysterystarz @mortedeveles @vs-redemption @kal0psi-a @gin-no-g @starstruckkittensweets @kitacharm @shirari @animated-moon @mitzwinchester @elitparadox @yumeyooa @angels-main @anlian-aishang @notroosterbradshaw

(If anyone would like to be removed, please just let me know<3)

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #top gun x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman x you #top gun x you #jake seresin #hangman #top gun #top gun maverick #jack seresin x y/n #hangman x y/n #top gun x y/n #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick x you #top gun maverick x y/n

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fanficforlife · 1 year

Text

Chapter Four

The early morning sun warmed your face while you sat on the porch enjoying a leisurely cup of coffee. You had gotten all of your work done and had the whole weekend off. No plans except relaxing with a book, going for a walk in the woods behind the house and finally calling your adopted grandparents. You had been so busy you only had time to text back and forth. Needing to stay safe and secretive meant not being able to tell them about where you were in case Nick found their cell phone.

"Good morning, Violet." Lee grinned as he walked up the steps, carrying his mug from his house.

"Good morning."

"Do you mind?"

"No, sit."

He sunk onto the empty chair next to yours. "Everything's still going good? Here and back there?"

"Yeah. Things here are going great. I was texting with my neighbors yesterday and they said Nick told them I hadn't been around the past couple of months because I had cancer and needed to go away for treatments."

"He doesn't want people to know you left him."

You nodded and looked out over the expansive yard. "Appearance is everything to their family. Can't have everyone knowing his fiancé ran away a week before their wedding."

"Well, he can let everyone think you're sick. Meanwhile, you will be here living your best life." You giggled as Rip walked around the corner. "Especially when my lovesick little brother musters up enough courage to finally ask you out." Pink stained your cheeks causing him to grin before focusing on the rugged cowboy who just walked up. "Morning, Rip."

"Morning. Morning, Violet."

"Good morning. The coffee pot inside is full and there are muffins on the counter that Tate and I made yesterday."

A crooked smile formed on his face. "I might just take you up on that."

You smiled back as the door next to Lee opened and Kayce and John walked out. "Good morning, Violet. It doesn't look like you are having much luck reading with these two hanging around." John chuckled, glancing down at the closed book on your lap that you had yet to start.

"Good morning. I have all day so I'm not worried."

"Well, we have some things to discuss. We'll be in my office." He informed before going back inside with Rip and Lee, leaving just you and Kayce.

Something feels off. Your brow furrowed. "Is everything okay? Everyone seems a little tense this morning."

"There's just an issue with some of our cattle and we have to figure out how to handle it. Everything's gonna be okay though."

"Good. Well, not good that there's a problem but good that it will all work out in the end."

A warm smile pulled at his lips at your ramble. "I know you don't have to work today and I feel like shit for asking but would you be able to watch Tate. I don't know how long this is going to take."

"Of course, I will. I was actually thinking of going for a walk behind the house so he can make sure I don't get lost."

He chuckled. "He would love to take you out there. My brothers and I built a treehouse when we were kids on top of a hill that overlooks a valley."

"Maybe I'll pack us a picnic." You smiled as you stood up.

"He would love that. So would I."

"Next time you can come too."

"I'm gonna hold you to that." His perfect, crooked smile donned his face and you couldn't help but smile back. "I should go. Tate's still upstairs asleep. Gator's busy in the kitchen and said he would let Tate know you're out here."

"Okay."

"Thank you. I owe you."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"Well, if you insist, I like chocolate." You teased.

He smirked but before he could say anything Lee stuck his head out the door. "You can talk to your girlfriend all you want after we get this figured out." Kayce's cheeks went red and Lee chuckled before placing his hands on Kayce's shoulders and guiding him inside. "See you later, Vi."

You giggled. After settling back in your chair, you sent your neighbour's a text letting them know you might not be able to call today because you were watching Tate. It was too early to call them or you would have so instead, you opened your book.

Gator was busy pouring stew into a serving bowl while you and Tate put biscuits in a basket for dinner when they finally emerged from the office.

"Grandpa, guess what me and Violet did today?!"

"Why don't you go sit at the table so you can tell your dad and uncles too?"

"Good idea." He answered you before jumping down and running into the dining room.

"Thanks for watching him."

"How many times do I have to tell you and Kayce that you don't have to thank me."

John smiled as Tate yelled for him. "I'm comin', grandson." He heeded the call and went to the dining room.

"Dish up. I can carry these in there." Gator said, not waiting for a reply and taking both bowls.

You put some in a bowl and grabbed a biscuit, carrying them onto the porch.

"Hey," Kayce said after stepping outside an hour later wearing dark clothes, his cowboy hat nowhere in sight.

"Hi."

He leaned against the railing in front of your chair. "Thanks for watching Tate today."

"Kayce."

"I know but babysitting isn't part of your job description, especially when everyone is home." His eyes went to his hands which were holding a black baseball cap.

"Is everything okay? You don't have to answer, I know It's none of my business. I just-"

He smiled seeing the concern on your face. "I know, we're all okay."

The worry that had been building throughout the day lessened. You stood up and leaned against the railing next to him.

"Broken Rock has some of our cattle."

"The reservation?"

"Yeah, some of our property borders theirs, and our cows ended up on their land. They won't give 'em back."

"You're going to get them back?" You had a feeling you already knew the answer. When he confirmed it the worry started trickling back in.

"Would you be able to watch Tate tonight? I don't know when we'll be back. He's not in the best mood cause I told him roasting marshmallows will have to wait until tomorrow. He's been looking forward to it since you guys went shopping and he picked out those different flavored chocolate bars to use for s'mores."

"Of course, I'll watch him." The trickle of fear turned into a full-blown rushing river when Lee came out of the house and handed Kayce a bulletproof vest.

Lee gave your shoulder a squeeze when he saw the fear in your eyes. "Don't worry, Vi. I'll get him back in one piece so he can finally ask you out. I'll even babysit little man so he can take you somewhere nice." He chuckled when you both blushed. "Well, my work here is done." His eyes sparkled mischievously as gave you a quick peck on the cheek before heading for the barn. "Five minutes, lover boy."

The red hue on Kayce's cheeks darkened. "Sorry about him."

"It's okay." You said as you picked at the wood railing, your mind still stuck on the bulletproof vest.

"Hey," his hand covered yours, drawing you back, "we're gonna be okay. It's just a precaution." The sound of a helicopter approaching made you both look out over the lawn and watched it land.

"Ready son?" John asked as he rounded the corner.

"Yeah," he put the vest on while John looked up at you from the bottom of the steps.

"Thanks for watching him. He's inside picking out a movie for you two to watch."

You smiled at him before he turned and ran towards the helicopter. Your eyes went back to the man who was starting to mean more to you than you thought...or hoped, in some ways.

"I'll be fine."

"I'm not worried about you." You lied. "From what I've heard you did great in the navy. Take care of the rest of them."

"I will." He smiled, squeezing your hand.

"Kayce, let's go!" Lee called out from the driver's seat of a truck with a horse trailer hooked up to the back of it.

"And, don't worry about us. I'm just gonna pump your kid full of sugar while we have a Jurassic Park marathon."

He chuckled. "I'll let you two sleep when we get back and you're both passed out on the couch."

You smiled up at him but worry tinged your eyes. "Be safe."

"Always." After giving your hand another squeeze, he jumped off the porch and ran to the truck. Lee blew you a kiss before they sped off. The helicopter followed.

You watched the taillights disappear behind a hill before going inside. Tate held up the three Jurassic Park movies you had predicted he would pick. After gathering snacks, he cuddled up with you under a blanket. While the first movie played, your mind kept drifting to Kayce. Keep them safe. Please, keep them all safe. You prayed for the family who was quickly filling up your once-broken heart.

*****

A creak of the floorboards drew your attention away from the mountain view out the window. The suns first rays were filtering through the windows, illuminating the cause of the creak. "John?" You gently lifted Tate's head off your lap so you could stand up. John motioned towards the kitchen. "How did it go? Is everyone okay?" You asked after following him.

"Not good. Are Kayce and Lee here?"

The color drained from your face. "N-no." Gator froze, the egg he was about to crack hovering over the pan.

"Damn it. They don't have their phones on them. They probably couldn't get back to the truck so they're just riding back." He said, trying to convince himself in the process. "They're fine."

You gave him the best fake smile you could muster and nodded.

"You don't need to make me anything, not hungry. If they aren't back in fifteen minutes, I'm gonna go look for them."

"Yes, sir. Violet?"

"I...I'm not hungry either."

Gator nodded as Tate came bounding into the room. "Grandpa!"

"Good morning, grandson." John hid his worry and grinned down at him.

"Violet and I had a sleepover in the living room last night. We made ice cream sundaes with a bunch of toppings and chocolate sauce. And, we watched all three Jurassic Park movies! I fell asleep during the third one though so we have to watch it again. Can we watch it today?"

"Uh, yeah. But, you have something to do first."

"Clean my room. And, we were going to make cookies today. We should do that before the movie so we can eat them while we're watching."

John suddenly left, running outside. Your eyes shot to the window and your breath caught in your throat.

Gator noticed and turned to Tate. "I think that I should be the one who makes cookies with you. You're an expert now. I'll tell you what, I'll help you clean your room and you can help me make cookies."

"Yeah!"

"Do you want to know something? I've never seen Jurassic Park."

"What?! Violet, he's never watched it!"

You kept your tears at bay as you tore your eyes away from Kayce sitting on his horse with Lee's body draped across. "What? That's crazy!"

"I know! After we make cookies we could watch them. Oh wait, you probably will be busy cooking."

"I think sandwiches for lunch today and for dinner, ordering pizza. What do you think?"

"Yes!"

"And, cereal for breakfast."

"Yay! We should spend the day together more often. I'll get the cereal!" He disappeared into the pantry.

"Don't worry about him, I got 'em."

"I'm not family. I should stay here."

"I don't know what happened but Kayce will need someone to help him get through this. And, I know without a doubt that Lee would want you to be that person." He gave you a gentle push towards the door. "Go."

You walked out onto the porch just as Rip started coming up the steps. "I was just coming to get you."

"How?" Was all you could get out while you watched John sitting on the ground holding his dead son.

"Kayce said Lee wanted to get a few cows that strayed off. He told him not to go but Lee's stubborn. He raced off and didn't realize one of their guys was watching them. He shot Lee. Kayce got there just as it was happening. He made him pay, killed him." Rip surveyed your face after the last piece of information but it didn't phase you.

"Where is he?"

"He's blaming himself. He won't listen to anyone so John sent me to get you. He took off into the trees." Rip motioned to the woods passed the hill behind the house. "Are you going to be good?"

"Mhm, I know where he went." Rip nodded and you started making your way toward the trees.

After ten minutes of walking, you found him right where you thought he would be, by the treehouse. You went over to where he was sitting in the grass with his knees up and face buried in his arms.

He heard you coming and knew it was you by your soft footsteps so he wasn't startled when you knelt next to him.

All of the nervousness that you would normally feel being this close to him didn't show up. The only thing going through your head was how much he must be hurting. Your hand came up and gently pulled on his arm, making him sit up and flatten his legs. You didn't say anything, just climbed onto his lap. The second you did his arms wrapped around you and pulled you against him, crushing your body against his. You hugged him back. Your hand slid into his hair so you could hold him closer as he sobbed into your neck. Tears streamed from your own eyes from seeing him like this, from knowing what he went through. And, for Lee.

When his shoulders stopped shaking his grip eased and he lifted his head from the crook of your neck. One of your hands left his shoulders and rested on his damp cheek, he leaned into your touch and closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Kayce."

"I should have gone with him right away." He opened his eyes, anger flashed through them. "Instead of calling after him to come back, I should have gone with him. He would still be alive."

"You don't know that. There's a good chance that you wouldn't be here either. It's not your fault."

He lowered his gaze. "Yes-yes it is. I-"

"No." Your hands rested against his jaw, forcing him to look at you. "Kayce, I know you did everything you could. It's not your fault." His eyes left yours. "Look at me." You ordered softly and he did. "You tried to stop him but Lee is-was the most stubborn person I knew. Once he made his mind up about something, that was it. You did everything you could. Please," Your voice cracked as tears threatened to fall, "please, don't blame yourself."

He nodded. His hand slid across your cheek and into your hair, pulling you into a hug. "I'll try."

"Promise me." You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him back.

"I promise, Letty. I'd promise you anything." He added, his voice barely audible and not meant for you to hear. But, you did and hugged him a little tighter.

"Tate?" He asked after the hug ended ten minutes later.

"Gator's watching him. Tate was so excited. They were going to clean his room and make cookies before watching Jurassic Park."

A small smile pulled at his lips. "Thank you...for taking such good care of him, for everything you do for my family, and me."

"You don't have to thank me for any of that, Kayce. I want to do it. Your family has been nothing but welcoming and Tate is an amazing kid. Whatever you need, I'm here." His watery eyes held yours while the breeze made waves in the grass around you. "Lee was beyond proud of you. He always talked about how great of a dad you are, how loyal you are to your family...he loved you so much." A few tears started sliding down your cheeks.

"He was the one I went to when I needed to talk, he could calm me down when my anger got the best of me. He's gone. What am I supposed to do without him?"

"He will always be with you. He will still be watching from the sidelines when you're spending time with Tate. His hand will be on your shoulder when you want to deck someone."

A chuckle left his lips. "Deck someone?"

"I don't know what cowboys call it. Slug? Clock? Punch seems too formal." You giggled and he smiled, you shyly smiled back. "When Tate and I came out here yesterday he was making a list of things that needed to be fixed on the treehouse. And, what he wants to add." You went on since you could tell he didn't want to go back to the house yet.

"I knew there'd be a few things that need to be fixed from the times I brought him out here. A couple of floorboards. The ladder." He cocked an eyebrow. "He wants to add what exactly?"

You grinned. "Well, he wants a roof because he wants to sleep out here with you but you need a roof in case it starts raining."

"Okay." Kayce nodded.

"A fireman's pole so you can get down in 1.5 seconds." He laughed and you couldn't help but smile whenever you heard it. "Oh, and a barn so you can both ride out here when you spend the night. On separate horses. His own horse which you have yet to buy him."

His laugh filled your ears. "Ah, yes. The horse. He's a bit young yet for taking care of his own."

"Maybe you should just give him yours since he still doesn't have a name yet."

"You think so?" He teased back.

"Yes."

After a few seconds of quiet, he spoke up. "Stay here with me for a while?" You nodded. He shifted so you were sitting between his legs both looking out at the view, his arms wrapped around you. A bald eagle flew overhead before slowly gliding around the valley. Kayce's arms held you tightly while you watched the giant bird floating gracefully on the air currents.

Knowing he was thinking about Lee, you leaned back against him and rested your arms along his, hugging him as much as you could while being in front of him.

The eagle had long since flown off, leaving you watching the clouds drifting along, your fingers mindlessly trailing up and down his arm. Little did you know, a spider was making its way up the back of your leg. His little legs were undetectable through the denim of the jeans you were wearing. It started climbing around, coming up onto your knee. "Ah!" You screamed, frantically brushing it away while scrambling backward.

The sound of Kayce's laugh filled your ears as you climbed onto his lap, getting as much of your body as you could off the ground.

"It's not funny." You said, your chest heaving. He didn't stop. "Stop." It came out with a laugh from hearing his but you gave his shoulder a gentle push.

"It's just a little bug." He let out another laugh.

"Bumble bees and caterpillars are bugs. Spiders are the work of the devil."

"Satan made the spiders?" A chuckle left his lips when you glared at him. His arms wrapped around you, keeping you in place so you wouldn't get up. "Okay. I'm sorry."

You let out a small huff. "No, you're not."

"You're right. I'm not." Your jaw dropped causing him to laugh again. "I'm just buggin' you. Come here." He hugged you and you put your arms around him, hugging him back. "Are you okay or do you need an exorcism? Should I call a priest?"

"You're hilarious."

"Okay, I'm done. I promise." He chuckled. His arms squeezed you while you giggled.

Silence settled between you and you knew his thoughts were back on his oldest brother. You hugged him a little tighter.

"I guess we should probably head back," Kayce said quietly after fifteen minutes went by of holding each other. "It's been a few hours."

"Yeah, we can if you want."

"Not really. I just want to hug Tate."

You smiled softly and stood up. "Let's go find Tate."

He got up and you both started walking back. When you came over the hill and the house came into view, his hand wrapped around yours. As you walked onto the porch, his grip tightened.

"Hey." Before he could open the door, you gave his hand a gentle tug, turning him to face you. "Remember what you promised me." Tears pricked the back of your eyes.

"I remember: it's not my fault. I know you'll kick my ass if I break it." He chuckled as his eyes became watery.

"If you ever start to break it, come find me. You don't have to talk about it. We can just sit and-and stare at the sky or go for a walk. Whatever."

"I will." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and you gave him a small one back before you both walked inside.

There was a knock on your bedroom door so you put your bookmark in your book. Not that you had read a single line because your thoughts were on John's oldest and youngest sons. "Come in."

Kayce stood in the doorway wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. "Hi." He said softly.

"Hi," you set your book on the bedside table and slide over.

He walked over and sat down on the edge of your bed. "I uh, I couldn't sleep and saw the light coming under the door. You...you told me this morning to come find you if..."

"We can't look at the stars but you can lie down with me."

He pulled the extra blanket that was lying on the end of the bed over him before he lay down. His arms wrapped around your waist, his head rested on your chest. The sound of your steady heartbeat quickly lulled him to sleep.

You reached down and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. He cuddled up closer causing a small, content smile to pull at your lips. Soon you were sleeping soundly, just like the cowboy lying in your arms.

*****

Five days later you walked into the living room wearing a simple black sundress and black cardigan.

"Hi, hun." Beth gave you a small smile before she hugged you.

"Hi."

John came over, holding his cowboy hat in his hands. "Hello, Violet. How is my son doing?"

"I think once today is over it will help a bit."

"I think it will help all of us." Beth agreed as Kayce followed Tate downstairs, coming over to your little group.

You hugged Tate, who had wrapped his arms around your waist. "Hey, bud."

"Why do we all have to wear black?"

"Because that's what people do at funerals," John told his grandson. "Speaking of which, we should head out." Beth linked her dad's arm before they made their way to the front door. Tate followed along behind with Jamie, who reached over and squeezed your forearm as he walked passed.

"Hey." Your voice was quiet as you looked up at the cowboy who had spent every night in your room since Lee's death. He had fallen asleep in your arms but always slept on top of your blanket like a gentleman.

He just nodded, keeping his head down.

You closed the distance and rested your hands on the sides of his neck. "Kayce?" Your voice cracked.

His watery blue eyes finally met yours. "I don't think I can do this."

"Nobody blames you for what happened. It's not your fault."

"I know. You keep reminding me." A small smile graced his lips for a few seconds until it faded. "I just...I need to do this on my own...to say...say goodbye on my own."

"Okay."

"I'm okay." He assured when he saw concern in your eyes. "I'll be okay."

You nodded as Tate stuck his head inside. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah." Your hands left Kayce's face and slid down his arms to his hands. After holding them for a few seconds, you gave him a small smile and went outside. "Let's go."

Tate's hand slipped into yours as you headed towards the spot of the ranch were they holding the service. "What about dad?"

"He wants to say goodbye to your Uncle Lee by himself." Kayce's son just squeezed your hand and you continued.

When you walked up, John looked down the road behind you. You shook your head. "He said he needs to do this alone."

John nodded and told the preacher to start.

The setting sun cast the most amazing sunset you had ever witnessed over the mountainous horizon. You pulled your phone out of the pocket of your cardigan and took a photo. While you were putting it away, the door opened behind you.

"Can I join you?" You looked up to see Kayce standing there and you nodded so he sat down next to you. "Thank you for helping with Tate today. And, thank you for helping me this past week."

A soft smile formed as your eyes met his. "You're welcome, even though you don't have to thank me. Whatever you need I'm here."

"Sit with me for a bit." When you nodded, he slid closer before leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees. Not long after an eagle slowly drifted into view.

Memories of sitting with him by the treehouse five days ago and seeing an eagle made you think of one person. Lee. Tears pricked your eyes as you rested your head on Kayce's shoulder. His hand immediately wrapped around yours. You both sat there in silence watching the bird float above the ranch until it disappeared into the mountains, along with the setting sun.

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roakkaliha · 2 months

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watch the moon

#sushart #ocs #the cattle of red valley #solution

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cat-soap-opera · 5 months

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#mod posts #the cattle of red valley

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zodarii-dae · 11 months

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the symbolism saga continues! this post is just for third life, because if i did them all in one post it would be way too long. i already made posts about symbols for the top three and the losers. everyone else has animal symbols! i chose based on symbolism, looks, names, behavior, or game events. or just vibes.

cleo is an african lion. they represent leadership, power, and courage, which works well for the queen of the crastle.

skizz is a mourning dove. skizz is one of the few who has consistent symbols. i adore fallen angel imagery for him, so i chose to make him different types of doves. this specific one is mostly for the name, as ren used the skizz blade in his name after his death.

joel is a eurasian wolf. i couldn't give the wolf king anything other than a wolf, but i don't really have a reason for the eurasian one other than vibes.

scott is an adonis blue butterfly. i wanted a butterfly because of the flower valley, and i chose this one for the name! the greek myth of adonis is about a lost lover (well, it's about a lot more than that but that's the only relevant part) who was turned into a flower, which i thought was perfect.

etho is an awassi sheep. i had to give him a sheep because of the wool fortress, and this one looked the coolest.

tango is a danish red cattle. same as etho, i wanted to give him a cow because of his (brief) monopoly, and this one looked the most fitting.

ren is an arctic wolf. he's the other one who stays consistent, because he really can't be anything other than a wolf or dog. i chose arctic for the red winter.

martyn is an arctic fox. i wanted an arctic animal for red winter, and i feel martyn is very fox like. plus, their dens are very similar to how dogwarts was set up.

impulse is a coast mole. he's referred to as a mole quite a few times. i chose the coast mole for the vibes.

bigb is a white-tailed jackrabbit. this one is almost entirely vibes. it is solitary, and he was very isolated throughout the series.

if you have any other ideas, please let me know! i'd love to hear some other thoughts on this.

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picturesofthegoneworlds · 6 months

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Preview for Intertwined, Chapter 13

It’s not long after setting off that the sun is rising over the other side of the valley. It heats and highlights the low-hanging mist that hugs to the tops of the forest canopy populating the bottom of the valley, the last few days of heavy rainfall transmuting into a shimmering fog, branches breaking the blanket in places and parrots and flying lizards gliding in and out of it, catching the early morning insects.

“That was alotta stew to finish off, can feel it sloshin’ round in ma belly each time I have to make a little leap” a large horned beetle scurries out of Imogen's path of descent as her boots ricochet her approach with each landing of sole onto natural stone step.

She looks back on her previous tracks, at Laudna crawling on her hands and knees and on her back, her ass finding rock-edge and legs dangling over before she silently eases down onto the next small area of level ground.

“I may have gotten a little carried away; I wasn’t sure on how long we would have to keep still whilst you healed.”

“Ain’t a complaint, I appreciate it - careful, this rock’s a little loose-” Imogen holds out her hand to Laudna from a few paces further down the cliff side, Laudna taking it before she lands almost nose-to nose with Imogen.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you, honestly.” Imogen emphasises “I know – I imagine that musta been stressful. Looking after me, not the jump, although maybe that was a stressful too, I wasn’t-” listening in.

“It was what I wanted to do. I do wish you would take this descent a little more gingerly though…”

Laudna's hand still in hers, awkward now. Imogen lets go.

“Ya worried about me openin’ the floodgates again?”

They’re stood so close that Imogen can’t fit Laudna's whole face into view; her focus darting back and forth between each of her eyes and the movement of her brow, the quirk of her mouth-

“We have quite a climb until there is enough ground to lie your body down. You’d be starting a new cascade, a little red waterfall. I’m not sure how much the flora will appreciate that, all those centuries dedicated to finding a colour palette of their own.” A smile, subtle but certain. Imogen wishes she had kept hold of her hand.

“I’ll be careful.”

Imogen pivots and carries on, now with a bit of pause before each move.

They take it easy, stop on a ledge that is wide enough for them to sit with their backs against the rock face with their legs hanging off, Laudna folding to pull her knees up to her chest.

The heat has surely started to return, the sun mirroring their descent; slowly climbing opposite them across the canyon giving no shadows between them at their current height over the jungle in the valley, the mist above it recently evaporated. Imogen feels the gentle burn of the rock face on the back of her thighs, eyes moving over where they will be traversing over the next couple of days with a squint.

“I found a body once, whilst I was out ridin’ with Flora.”

She feels Laudna’s attention caught from her periphery, the blur of her silhouette extending towards her.

“Woulda been unidentifiable if it weren’t for the clothes on their back, they were so trampled to mush. Skull caved-in and eyeballs popped-out and brains all scattered in the grass, don’t even get me started on their innards and ribcage, all’a that was flat as a pancake and just'us homogenous as batter. Stampeded by the cattle, spooked by the recent thunderstorm most likely…” only now did she find the irony in that last part, scoffs at it under her own breath.

Laudna remains silent. Imogen allows herself a glance – finds eyes beady, excitable, curious -Imogen's back against the mountainside and Laudna leaning away from it, towards Imogen, enough so that Imogen’s hand twitches, ready to grab at some purchase of any of Laudna's excess fabrics should she start to plummet away from the ledge.

“…had’ta report it to the landowner, couldn’t admit that I knew who it was to save myself from tellin’ their family. Was months before I’d stop seein’ the scene of it in my head at any opportunity, whether that be a moment’s silence or somethin’ someone said that reminded me of it. Stayed with me in m’sleep for much longer.”

Laudna became unreadable at that, the curiosity gone and replaced with something closer to calculating, processing, between emoting. Imogen clears her throat, picks out dirt from under her thumbnail with the nail of the pinky on her opposite hand, fidgets with the two in her lap, still ready to reach out.

“circumstance was unfortunate, but that was one of the few more recent times when my daddy was really there for me, he’d even butcher and prepare any of the meats over the next few weeks whilst I was real precious - maybe he was just aware of how ditzy I could be with a knife in my hands and my head elsewhere… ” like the last night she was home, cutting the tip off her finger when she prepared the stew for herself and with butterflies for Laudna too, maybe, whilst her father lamented the similarities between Imogen and her mother over his fifth or sixth whisky from the room next door.

“That stuff, you shouldn’t have to process it alone…no matter how long it’s been…”

“I see we’re not talking about yesterday, are we…”

Laudna's chin returns to the back of her palms, crossed over her knees, her face turned from Imogen and towards the sun.

“Not quite, we’re not – I’m not…what you’ve shared and-” fuck the subtlety, the tip-toein’ can be saved for the ruins and the valleys “I saw your dream last night, Laudna-”

(you can read the first 12 chapters here)

#Imodna #Imogen Temult #Laudna #Critical Role #Fanfic #WIP #Emma writes #Gore

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fullscoreshenanigans · 1 year

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Something that doesn’t surprise me due to how prevalent they are as visuals to remind the audience what series they’re reading and for the multitude of things they represent but is still of interest to me is how I’ve never seen discussions or fanfics that touch upon the removal of the farm tattoos or Lambda branding once the setting switches to the human world. I’ve seen the latter mentioned as a point of distress post-canon (shout-out to chapter 3 of banana_slug_army’s Sunshine and Solace; definitely check it out if you’re a NER enthusiast), but the thought of removing them is never seriously considered by the kids or Moms and Sisters.

Below the cut is an assortment of reasons I’ve gathered for why this is and some musings on them:

1. Pain of Removal (Physical and Monetary)

This reason is the easiest to handwave. With fantastical creatures like demons being real in this universe, it’s not much of a leap to ask your audience to believe there is now an entirely painless procedure to remove tattoos or brands.

However, if someone wants to venture down that route, it is interesting to consider, especially given how young a decent amount of these kids are. Doing a quick search for tattoo removal and children understandably doesn’t yield many results, so I’m wondering if it’s something that should even be attempted on the youngest of them with the damage it could do to their skin. It could take multiple sessions before the removal is complete. (I’m not going to post images here because they contain nazİ imagery, but check into Bryon Widner for someone who underwent twenty-four sessions of extensive but successful tattoo removal on his face and neck for a year and a half after leaving the movement.)

And then I go with the Lambda marks being brands due to the red coloring they’re given in the anime:

(S2e08. At least the majority of the babies sans Ray don’t remember the tattooing done to them. I hope they granted Norman the small mercy of knocking him out for this.)

Removing those would require more intensive cosmetic surgery.

Regardless, the monetary cost for any of this is a non-issue because even if Norman and co. didn’t start an incredibly lucrative conglomerate so they could avoid as much influence of the Ratri family as possible, I feel like this would be something either they would cover (because not doing so is terrible optics) or the people performing the procedure would do it pro bono.

2. Discrimination/Attention

Discrimination is another one that Shirai handwaves fairly quickly after minor instances of speculating how successful they would be in assimilating into the human world.

(Chapter 179)

So there’s no large, socially acceptable push toward scapegoating the cattle children on the outset of their arrival. However, I don’t think it would be outlandish for individuals or fringe groups to do this, especially with how they magically appeared all over the world. It’s ripe for conspiracy theories. (I’ve talked about this with @officersnickers for one of her AUs where a minority of people don’t consider the cattle children real people and dub them “numbers” for some ingroup-outgroup think.)

The opposite side of the coin then is attention.

(Chapter 56)

Glory Bell’s, Goodwill Ridge’s, and Grand Valley’s placements are more easily hidden with clothing, but Grace Field’s takes a little bit more flair to hide in the warmer months. Yuugo is immediately able to tell where the kids are from because of this placement, something he wouldn’t be able to do with the other farms. It makes me wonder if Grace Field children in particular would consider removal the further along they are in life to avoid receiving pity.

[Tangentially related to this, the arrival of all these children might spark a trend of human world denizens opting for some misguided tattoo choices in a similar manner to what happened with the release of Stranger Thİngs season 4:

so another aspect that might factor into this decision.]

3. Paradoxical Sense of Kinship

This is the most thematically resonant reason that’s made most apparent by Emma losing her tattoo as a symbol of the new promise she’s forged and the memories of her family that she’s sacrificed.

(Chapter 181)

With the paradox being that these numbers were used in order to dehumanize them and catalog them as merchandise.

Growing up in Grace Field, the children undoubtedly saw images of people in books from the human world without numbers on their necks. It makes me wonder if the Moms of each house were given free reign on how to explain why this was so to their children or if there was a standard response passed down from HQ, because it is something that the kids notice before they’re aware of the truth in the manga instead of the ominous framing for the sake of the viewer in the anime.

(Chapter 1; I default to the demons flipping them as another hurdle to deter the children from catching on to how closely grouped together they actually are, but like)

(at some point multiple kids must have stood in front of the mirror together and seen the reverse. “If you’re not primed to look, you’re not going to see it,” yes, but still, lol. Chapter 181.1)

Once they escape the house, we again have those panels from chapter 56 of Nat and Thoma shuddering at the real purpose of the marks they’ve carried for their entire lives.

And yet before and after this realization the children of Grace Field undoubtedly took comfort in seeing those similar markings so prominently on each other. As Don states in the English dub of the first episode, “even if we aren’t blood-related, we’re truer siblings than most.” They were brought together by circumstances unknown to them, but they all saw those numbers as a way they were tied together. So despite having the most obvious placement, I feel like the Grace Field children would be the least likely to opt for tattoo removal.

(You could further split up this up by how old the unaware Grace Field children were upon arriving in the human world. It wouldn’t be hard to imagine there being some dissonance between younger children who barely remember life in the demon world and older ones who were nearing the shipment age who bonded with the other children in their orphanages.

And then with the oldest cattle children—the caretakers of the various farms who learned of the truth and were forced to comply with the cruel system laid out before them or die—their memories of their time in HQ might mar any positive association they had with their tattoos as a sign of familial unity in their childhoods.)

By contrast, Grand Valley’s tattoo placement is on the chest.

(Chapter 69)

And Glory Bell’s on the stomach as shown by Yuugo. Combined with the different settings of towns and teachers as caretakers as opposed to smaller family units intentionally framing themselves in that manner, I feel that this could lead to a greater sense of dissociation between the tattoos and a sense of kinship for all the cattle children not from Grace Field, thus potentially making it more likely they would be open to removing them at some point in the human world. Out of sight, out of mind.

Of course, all these characters are their own individuals and with enough proper set-up, I think fanfic authors could reasonably justify any of the cattle children removing these markings within the anime or manga canon or in No Reward AUs where Emma doesn’t lose her memory or her numbers. But these are the general trends I would default to if the topic is put forth in a fanfic, and I’d be interested in contrasting perspectives from characters either as the focus of a shorter piece or a reoccurring point of contention in a larger one.

#The Promised Neverland #Yakusoku no Neverland #TPN #YnN #TPN Norman #YnN Norman #Norman 22194 #Long Post #Human World Arc #TPN 179 #TPN 181.4 #Epilogue #Post-Canon #Post-Canon AU #FSS Chatter #Goldy Pond Crew #Emma #Norman #Ray #Nat #Thoma #me whenever I'm halfway through writing one of these posts:#did Shirai...ever address this in an interview with like a five-word response because it's like a “duh” thing #but this is just me musing what conversations in the human world might be like for them #one of the most striking lines regarding this topic in fic that I've read #described Ray seeing the Grace Field tattoos from far away as a dark slash dividing their necks in half #foreshadowing their eventual grizzly fates #or perhaps it was specifically regarding Norman during a final conversation before his shipment as he dons the shipment outfit #either way‚ very stark and haunting and good

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blimbo-buddy · 2 months

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I have always wanted to write cannibalism for Warriors but I never felt I'd do it much justice.

A cat being desperate enough to turn to eating their fellow felines. I do wanna go for the route you did for your DoTC rewrite where they behave more like a starving zombie-horde but I still want them to be real and human (I know they're cats you understand what I mean).

What would be the best advice, Master Blimmy of the Blimbos and All things Justified to terrible characters

First and most important thing to keep in mind is to not make it racist. Don't have it fall into those harmful "scary foreign cannibal tribes" tropes that you would see in those old ass movies or cartoons where the characters go to other countries. No matter what, this is always the first thing you need to keep in mind.

Also think about the mental repercussions that it could have on the cat committing the act, specifically in this case, with it being a last-resort. Cannibalism involves murder and/or desecration of a body, that stuff can weigh heavily on one's mind, whether or not they killed that cat.

Remember that cannibalism can result in illnesses from bacteria. I'm not sure if the same can be said for animals eating their own species, but cannibalism can make a person extremely, extremely sick because the human body is packed full of harmful germs, bacteria, parasites, all that. This depends on if you want the cats to have the same logic as humans when it comes to the strength of digestive enzymes

One of my mutuals has a post about it. It's not super in detail nor is it any kind of "guide", but it has some good insight. Also they have a wc fanstory in the works called Cattle of Red Valley that has a few bits of cannibalism in it, that could help a bit with trying to figure out how to write it properly and handle it with care

#blimbo rambles #ask #wc #cannibalism tw

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amaiguri · 8 months

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Saegenfolk Reworks -- How I'm thinking about my pastel-goth Chinese-Viking fusion culture

Okay, so, as some of you may know, I am working on updating my Saegen culture to have more elements of my birth culture -- cuz, I legit don't know enough about it so this is a great way to learn and then like... mind-palace it into my worldbuilding (yes, I just verbed "mind-palace"). And guess what? I just finished my first sketches of a rework of the whole culture!!! <3 <3 <3 I'm REALLY pleased, it's really reasonating with me now in a way Saegen culture NEVER was <3

So, let's go over what some of the different stuff is -- Top to bottom, left to right... And I AM open to feedback and thoughts and, in fact, I encourage it <3 I consent to advice!

First thing to notice is the Saegen now have a color scheme that isn't jewel-toned red and gold… because the SVANHIK people are red and gold. I experimented with Green and Teal for the Northern lights -- but Green felt really weird. It made them too elfy. And Teal is already Telethens' color. Nouveau Thuille is purple/navy blue/black… So instead of making the red more jewel-toned, I took it towards Cyberpunk Neon/Barbie pink. Why? This is Asarlai's color in their culture now. Asarlai is the father of humanity and god of magic (up North) So wearing pink is super fatherly, magical, and clever. We still have black because black plants just work good in these near-underground settings -- absorbing waaay more light. So now the Saegen aesthetic is now like… pastel-goth Chinese-Vikings.

Next, we have the FASHION! The fashion is very very specifically stolen from the silhouette of Hanfu, just with more fur and different materials. I imagine it being Rumateur wool, but also leather and dyed animal skins and maybe bamboo silks and so forth. We still have elaborate braids and wavy hair, but in my mind, their eyes are all like the Sakha people or something. They still use their hands to paint their faces -- typically for sunscreening/snow-glare/sea-glare reduction reasons as well as receiving Asarlai's blessing. And while Thuilleans prefer silver metals, they prefer gold. This is just a contrast thing.

Next next: Houses! They mostly build out of these silvery bamboo stalks that grow under the Upper Continent. I really like these tent-like silhouettes to their houses -- with littler tents stacked atop each other. They also have igloo-like, bulb-shaped homes for temp shelters! Their ships are like dragons with their wings and blade-armored fronts (mostly for ice, but also fighting). And some even ride small whale-landsharks with sealskin saddles ❤️

Weapons and tools wise: They're really well known for their Ysse lanterns (I mean, EVERYONE IS but for different reasons). Theirs are all a really pretty pink -- the "purest form of Ysse light" (Not really.) -- and have the teardrop bulb shape. But they look like these warm, nutrient restoring fungi that naturally grow (or probably a god put them there) in Saegenheim. They also have guns (which have magic bulbs that, when struck, blast out fire. So really, they're flamethrowers but I don't like the way that sounds lol). They also use these Tang-dynasty-inspired swords and poleaxes pretty commonly.

Animal and creature wise: Their rumateurs are much bigger and bulkier -- more cattle-like thanks to the flatter plains around Saegenheim -- than the more lithe, leapy rumateurs of the Nouveau Thuillean valley. They also keep artic bunnies (even though the're considered mild pests in Nouveau Thuille) as easy food and sometimes even hunt seals. However, they have to be super careful not to murder their selkie brethren -- it is generally wiser not-to hunt seals because they might be a selkie -- and instead just ask seals for their molted skins (which they molt in one, thick slough once a year) or milk to make cheese or kumis. Not-shown: They also heavily rely on Butterflies of the Heart for Honey, Wax, and Mead --because despite their name, they're actually bees.

Above the Saegenheim cave are these enclosed plains of black bamboo forests. A currently unnamed but critically important fungus grows in tandem with the bamboo and is part of the bamboo's natural life cycle. I'm not entirely sure, but maybe something like the bamboo grows up and starts putting out leaves to photosynthesize, to pump back into the ground. The fungus feeds on the bamboo but then helps it spread further and also, gives the bamboo nutrients back in the winter. And eventually, the fungus eats the dead stalks WHILE fixing the soil for the new growth?

Regardless, the Saegen people eat this fungus as one of their staple foods.

They also eat a ground-fungus that the rumateurs and bunnies eat up here that grows small and under the frost but VERY PERSISTENTLY, much to everyone's surprise (it's the 5" one). It also works with the bamboo and tree fungus to make this really weirdly balanced flow of nutrients in and out of the soil with the seasons.

The ground fungus is usually dried, ground up, and then used for soups or baked goods (like flat breads or meat loafs.) Meanwhile, the tree fungus is usually eaten without grining but still boiled/fried/baked OR dried and ground up and brewed to make coffee. ((This is where the Northerners get their coffee -- the coffee is a lie, they are perpetually drinking an American Civil War Confederate coffee substitute XDDDDD But at least their coffee usually has good protein, micronutrients, and caffeine-like substances, unlike real Civil War coffee substitute LOL))

So Saegenheim is now in the Womb of the World, (the environment sketch) taller and this tree-like fungus grows that is also edible and can act as a meat-substitute nutrient-wise BUT it grows much slower, so it is carefully monitored by the Sages so they don't fuck it up.

Speaking of the Womb of the World -- this warm, damp refuge in the otherwise hostile, VERY NORTHERN part of the tundra is a cave warmed by the specific way the permanent Ysse Springs interact with the stones here -- warming the cave to very liveable temperatures year round. The Sages of Saegenheim have built their home here to honor the Gods who brought forth all of humanity. However, most Saegenfolk do not live here year round -- they are semi-nomadic, in that they go to the same few places and settle for the season. Different royal families will lead their people to different places, but those who can afford it will return to winter in the safe, reliable Saegenheim to catch up on news and celebrate Godsweek. They hang new pink lanterns in the streets at the beginning of every new year.

And lastly, when they aren't in Saegenheim, the Saegenfolk are often sailing. And this means they are hunting whale-landsharks, sea serpents, shrimp, and artic carp (articarp, if you will XD).

Now this closeness of location and similarity of lifestyle and respect of the Sages and Gods may lead you to believe that the Saegens are cooperative, extended-family-oriented folks.

No.

Due to the harshness of the environment, a great deal of emphasis is placed on survivability and military. And when everyone is seeking to be better, then you cannot rest for even a moment or you will fall behind. If you are not young enough to be trying to get stronger/cleverer/better/more useful, then you better be teaching others to get there or you're useless. And useless things are to be cast off…

Every family has its own sort of military hazing rituals that involve ridiculously long, cruel, and unnecessary training hours. Admittedly, it's a well-rounded education but there are all these weirdly specific judgements about you, depending on what kind of instruments, weapons, poetry, and cooking recipes you know. And even though your extended family will provide you food and teach you and find your more private tutors as you grow up… you will be constantly compared to your cousins. If you are worse than even one, you are pressed like you are worthless. If you are better than all your cousins and siblings by 200%… why is it not 250%? 300%? You cannot ever be Enough in Saegen culture.

Unless you're a Sage. Sages are judged by entirely different standard. But the number of people who try to become Sages and fail is also… quite large.

Anyway, this might've been poorly organized AND I'm still thinking about all this so if you have thoughts or feedback, let me know ❤️

#whimsigoth #pastel goth #Chinese inspired #viking inspired #fantasy worldbuilding #worldbuilding #brainstorming ideas #brainstorming #creative writing #worldbuilding challenge #fantasy writing #fantasy art #visual design #concept art #concept sketch #Yssaia #Amaiguri

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