#Rowan Rosewood

[queersrus]

request for cottagecore + sad-ish? id pack? please + thanks!

here's my attempt!

assuming id pack includes more than just the usual npts i'll throw in a few cottagecore and sad related labels i found

(nick)names:

ambrose, amos, ansel, acacia, ada, adelaide, arwin/arwen, ava, avery/averie, aviva, amaranth, able, arbor, art, arty/artie, asher, ainsley, acheron, adalia brandy/brandi, branwen, billie/billy, bryony, bill, banner, booker, bram

barley, brion, brian, bryce chloris, chandra, cyrene, cayenne, cade, clyde, chester, cliff denna, diana/dianna, diona, donna/dona, derby, dallas, danica, daphne, dixie, dawn, dylan

edmund, elenore, elodie, eudora, elenore/eleanor, ebony, erica, eila, eira, eve, eithne, everlee, elize, eliza, elizabeth, everlyn, elwood, emerson, elowen finnegan, freddy/freddie, frederick, fallin/fallon, florance/florence

fable, frank, frankie/franky, franklin/franklyn, faine, filbert, finneas ginny/ginnie, gale, georgia, george, georgina, granger halcyone, hana/hanna/hannah, harriet, harry, hayley/hailie/hailey, halie/hallie, heather, harlowe/harlow, harrow, hadar, hawl, hayes,

huck, holden, huso ilana, illiana/iliana, ingrid, ivory jane, janet/janette, jesse/jessie, josie, jose, jack, jackie, jackson kingston, kodi/kodie, kodiak, kylan

lupin, lian, liana/lianna, liane/lianne, linc, linden, lyle, lucius maisie, matilda, maude, mabel, merle, marin, mica/mika, mason/macon, martin, miller, miles nellie, nyssa, ned, nick, ness

opholia, oliver, olive, olivia, oleander, odell, oriel, oscar paisley, poppy, posie, phineas, parker rose, rosemary/rosemarie, rosy/rosie, rory, rosette, rosetta, rue, rosabel/rosabell/rosabelle, rosa, rosabela/rosabella, rosella, rosaria,

rosario, rob, robert, ray, reed, ridge, ryland, rowan, roan shiloh, sharon, scarlet/scarlett/skarlett, sam, samantha, samuel, sunny/sunnie, sawyer, shaw, shay, steve, stevie, stevia, sorell/sorrell, seb, sebby/sebbie, sebastian, saddie/sadie, sade

theodore, theo, tori, toria, tamie/tammie, tawny, terra, timber, tim, timothy, tanner, teddy/teddie, trevis/travis, trevor, tyler, tristan/tristin, tristah/trista, trystia verginia, vicky/vickie, victor, victoria, viola, violet/violette,

violeta/violetta, valerian, vernon winnie, willa, winston, winifred, winslow, will, william, willow, wade, wagner, warren, watts, watson, wilhelmina yvonne, yves zephyr/zephyre, zara, zinnia, zion

surnames:

appleyard, ashton, ashwood baker, brookstone, butterfield catkin, cobbler, cooper, copper, copperwood, copperfield, crestfallen dogwood, direwood, direbrook, direfield, desperfield, downyard

doleman fenlon, falkner, forlorn greenwood, greenfield, golding, goldwood, goldfield, griefman, griefwood, gardner

hilbrook, holbrook, heath, horsewood, horsefield, hawksley, harrowing, hawkswood, hawthorne, hawkner, hawkfield, holloway, hallowood

larken, limewood, lockhart, lovejoy mourner, mournwright, mournman nettleship

plowman, penrose, penwright redbrook, rosedale, redwood, rosewood, redfield summerfield, sweetnam, seawright, sorrowfield, sorrowbrook, shamewood, shamewright

thacker, thatcher westfield, wainwright, write/wright, wagonwright, woodsman, wyrmwood/wormwood, winterwood, winterrose, wretchwood, wretchman

system names:

the cottagecore *system, the sorrowful system, the melancholic cottage system, the mourning flowerbed system, the gloomy garden system, the tearful system, the harvest system

1st p prns: i/me/my/mine/myself

ci/cotte/cottagy/cottagine/cottageself hi/he/hy/harvestine/harvestself gi/garde/gardy/gardine/gardenself si/sade/sady/sadine/sadself si/sorre/sorry/sorrowine/sorrowself mi/me/mely/melancholine/melancholyself

2nd p prns: you/your/yours/yourself

co/cottager/cottagers/cottagerself ho/harvester/harvesters/harvesterself go/gardener/gardeners/gardenerself so/sader/sadders/sadderself so/sorrower/sorrowers/sorrowerself mo/melancholer/melancholers/melancholerself

3rd p prns: they/them/theirs/themself

co/cottage, cott/age, cot/cottage, cot/tage, cottage/cottages, cottage/core har/vest, ha/harvest, harv/est, harvest/harvests gar/den, gar/garden, garden/gardens, garden/core farm/core sa/sad, sad/sads, sa/ad, sad/sadden, so/sorrow, sor/row, sorr/ow, sorrow/sorrows, sorrow/sorrowful mel/melancholy, mel/ancholy, melan/choly, melancholy/melancholies, melancholy/melchancholic

titles:

the weeping gardener, the mourning farmer, the sad cottage dweller, the melancholic planter, the sorrowful woodsman

**one who lives a sad cottage life, one who mourns within ones cottage, one who weeps amongst ones gardens, one who copes with sadness through cottage life

book titles:

the sad little cottage, a melancholic villager, the weeping willows, the mourning garden, the sorrows of an old cottage, a pitiful harvest

genders:

buncottagecoric(link),

cottagegoric(link), cafdreamian(link), cottagecrittean(link), cottagecoric(link), Cálidatierramielgender(link)

epuisetristic(link)

gendersob(link)

Sadnostacatgender(link)

orientations: (n/a)

other:

cottagecore bpd(link)

many can be found by searching cottagecore genders/mogai/liom as well, there are many versions of cottagecore flags especially for lgbt related labels so they should not be hard to find if you feel like looking!

*system can be replaced with any alternative (ex. cluster, collective, hoard/horde, etc)

**one can be replaced with any prn

[armoricaroyalty]

Previous | Chapter Start | Beginning | Next

author's note: Toddlers, huh?

transcript under the cut!

Nakawe // Armorican State Visit - Day 2

VIVI | What is this place, exactly? JULIAN | It's a vacant building, owned by...some crown agency or something. I don't know. They're going to redevelop it into low-income housing. VIVI | ...are we allowed to be here? JULIAN | [offscreen] Who's going to stop us? C'mon! VIVI | How am I supposed to climb this ladder? I'm wearing ballet flats! JULIAN | [offscreen] Better than heels! VIVI | [grumbling] This has better be worth it...

Rosewood Hall // Residence of the Duke and Duchess of Laye

HUGO | JUMP! JUMP! JUMP! ELISE | Hugo Michael Rowan. What do you think you're doing, young man? HUGO | I'm jumping, Grandma! Watch me jump! ELISE | This isn't a playground. No jumping on the couch, you could fall and get hurt. HUGO | Mama lets me! ELISE | [offscreen, skeptically] Your mother lets you jump on the furniture? I don't think so. It's not nice to tell lies, Huey. JACQUES | No, he's telling the truth. ELISE | [offscreen] What? Vivi lets him roughhouse inside and climb on the furniture? JACQUES | She never says no to him. JACQUES | She's so permissive, she's turning him into a little monster. ELISE | [offscreen] Jacques, that's unhelpful. JACQUES | [offscreen] It's true! Every time I try to set limits, she undermines me. ELISE | [offscreen] The two of you need to get on the same page. JACQUES | Ma, I've tried. Vivi is completely unreasonable. ELISE | Jacques, I think that you need to go back to the counselor. Both of you. JACQUES | Not this again— ELISE | [offscreen] I think she could help you with your communication skills. JACQUES | [offscreen] Can she help Vivi with her listening skills? JACQUES | [offscreen] You don't get it! She's always starting fights, and she just pokes and pokes and pokes until I snap at her, and then she cries and acts like she's the victim. I'm always walking on eggshells around her. ELISE | [offscreen] JJ, I hear you, but she is your wife. Be reasonable. What are you going to do, if you're not willing to work through this with her? JACQUES | [offscreen] ...I don't know. JACQUES | Honestly, Mom? I'm so scared of losing her. She's beautiful and smart and everybody loves her. She could go anywhere, do anything, be with anyone...why would a girl like that settle for me? ELISE | Oh honey...don't put yourself down, any woman would be— HUGO | Grandma! Daddy! Look! I climbed up all by myself! ELISE | [gasps] ELISE | [offscreen] Get down from there! HUGO | Watch me, Grandma! Watch me jump! JACQUES | [offscreen] HUGO, NO!

Nakawe

VIVI | Wow... JULIAN | Well? Was it worth the climb? VIVI | Maybe... VIVI | I need to know what else you have planned for me. JULIAN | Mmm...whatever you want, beautiful. VIVI | Ah~ VIVI | It's my husband. JULIAN | Ah. VIVI | I've been ignoring him...I'm sorry, I should pick up. VIVI | [offscreen] Stitches?!? Jacques, you're supposed to be watching him— VIVI | ... I'm not even in the country, how could it be my fault— VIVI | [offscreen] That's not fair ... no you're just being mean! VIVI | We were supposed to be here together! ... Jacques, please— VIVI | [exhales unsteadily] JULIAN | Hey...are you alright? VIVI | [gasps] VIVI | [crying] JULIAN | Hey...it's okay. It's going to be okay. VIVI | [whsipering] Can I tell you something? JULIAN | [whsipering] Yeah. VIVI | [whsipering] Sometimes, I hate him.

[nsewell]

the unspoken dialogue of borrowed books

ava du mortain/female detective ; 3.1k words ; rated G (on ao3)

The Detective finds a crafty way to send a message and Ava lies rather expertly to herself about what it does to her. 

i had the absolute pleasure of writing for @dottiechan's detective persephone schulz as part of the @wayhavensecretsanta exchange! thank you so much for lending her to me ^^ i was super taken with your headcanon that posy pays attention to books that ava mentions so she can sneak them out of the library to read, and what that does to ava when she notices. where there are books involved, nate had to rear his head of course so i got to play with posy's romance option and bestie dynamics all in one. this was really such a joy to write, and i hope you enjoy reading it!!

--

The first time it happens, it’s the familiar, resonant scent that gives her away. Ava pauses a few steps into the inviting warmth of the Warehouse library with its crackling fire and array of antiques: polished rosewood and old ink and brocade rugs, and suspended above it all—a remnant of Persephone. Long brown hair and clear grey eyes; still Midwinter, imbued in the air after her leaving just like the mythos of her name. The smell of her blood is so pungent and enticing. Ava’s intention of asking Nate to cross reference a text on Gorgons by Agency request is lost to the furtive racing of her own pulse, the unneeded breath she expels from her lungs as it all washes over her; it’s entirely too human a reaction.

She folds her broad arms in front of her chest as though obscuring some unsavory part of herself from the light, and wets her lips, attempting to school her composure cool and impassive as she asks, though really more interrogates, “What did the Detective want? She was not on schedule to be here today.”  

She can hear Nate stooped somewhere behind the towering shelves, singing to himself in Farsi. He emerges at her question with a stack of worn leather tomes propped carefully on one arm, and a warm smile all too knowing for Ava’s liking. She feels slightly unmade under a benign scrutiny that’s known her every tell for hundreds of years, and privately laments, not for the first time, the doing away with armor a few centuries back - chiefly helmets with visors. Her complexion is too pale for this, every flush of color smeared across her cheeks like a rowan berry, blooming and ripened. It is testament to the accord of their longstanding friendship that it goes unremarked upon. Or maybe just a testament to Nate’s infinite resource of kindness. 

“She came to borrow a selection from the library,” he tells her, sounding very pleasant and good-natured as if to counter Ava’s stiff, broiling tension. Ever the contrast, ever the foil. “You’ve only just missed her, I’m afraid.” 

It is a strange thing to feel all at once so mournful and triumphant, and to keep either expression from crossing her features. 

“I’m surprised you let her walk out with it, unscathed. You can be rather territorial with your collection,” Ava says, and presses on glibly, before Nate can rise to the teasing glint in her eye, and not because of her urgent desire to know the purpose of Detective Schulz’s visit–-of course. She moves to take a faltering step forward. “Was it research related?”

“No, it was one of your books, actually. A, hm—curious choice really,” Nate says thoughtfully, teeth gliding over the bow of his full bottom lip. “That first edition of Dracula you picked up in Edinburgh years ago.” 

Ava absorbs this information in like a vapor, nostrils flaring, chest expanding, her own lips pursed into a thin line. She is no avid reader in the way Nate is, scouring shelves in pursuit of knowledge and fictitious escapism, but she will indulge every now and again with the great adventure tales throughout time; stories of heroes overcoming trials in the face of impossible odds. Swords and action and expedition and the like—for strategic purposes and not the fanciful cling to human interest that Nate ascribes to. Dracula had fallen outside of this boundary, and had only been purchased out of vigilance for a novel that had brought their kind under public scrutiny. If the humans were writing fabrications about them, even on a fictitious pretense, it paid to know what was being spread. It had been full of the expected drivel, Stoker polluting the minds of impressionable Victorian age readers, enough to make Ava pause and recite passages scornfully aloud to Nate, who had long finished it all in one sitting. She’d shelved the copy to be lost amidst his ever expanding collection. Over a century later, when it had come up in conversation with Persephone (a throw away line, really) she had never expected…never could have anticipated-– 

“Ava?” Concern twists a notch between Nate’s dark brows, and he shifts the slipping stack in his hands to sit upon his hip before closing the distance and wrapping a hand about her arm. “Forgive me, I really should have asked you first--only I didn’t think you would miss it. I’ve never known you to read a book more than once, and you’ve never looked on that one favorably. It does make sense, her interest, given what we are…” he trails off looking distracted, then clears his throat. “However embellished the telling. She did promise to take good care of it, and return it when she’s finished.”

“It’s alright,” Ava lies quickly before she comes across as too affected, squaring her shoulders and ordering her thoughts into strict line. “She is free to borrow whatever she likes. As a member of our team, this facility is for her use also.” 

Nate pierces her with one of his russet looks of open sincerity. “Home, Ava. This is our home now. And one I hope Posy feels comfortable sharing.” 

“You were always too prone to sentiment, my friend,” Ava chides, though it is said with an undercurrent of fondness and a returning smile. 

“I suppose that’s why the Agency paired us together. One of us has to be.” Nate’s soft, resonant chuckle fills the room, and despite the unease welling in her throat, Ava joins him, uncrossing her arms to aid in his failing feat of book juggling.

—-

And so Ava pretends she doesn’t know. She goes about her usual routine, scheduled down to the minute, and the genius of its design is that it gives her little chance to dwell on the connotations of the borrowed book too keenly. Of course, it could mean nothing. Or anything, or everything. It disturbs her, if she’s being entirely honest. 

When duty parses them together again, there isn’t more than the expected consequences of being in the same room, a rehearsed script by now–“Ava.” “Detective.”--followed by averted eyes and skittish movements and silent, glorious reveling when a touch is orchestrated between them just so. Persephone, collected and brazen as ever. Ava guarded, but sparing fleeting looks to the Detective’s bag like a wounded, arrow pierced hare, once, twice, more than a few times for a book shaped indentation or perhaps some vital organ carved from her belly because it feels like she’s taken a piece of her to study under a microscope. There is always the chastisement of herself afterwards for letting her eyes and hands and thoughts stray, this cycle as infinite as humanity’s death and rebirth. And that is all. 

The one true lapse in judgment she will admit to, in a clinical sort of way, like a disease of the blood—and even then only to the dark of her Spartan quarters—is when she makes the rounds on guard rotation one evening and lingers below Persephone’s window, wrapped up in her coat to watch the glow of lamp light snuff out after a long interim of waiting, and wonders with an unquenchable ache, what words did your eyes linger upon and did they make you think of me. 

Other than that, it has little effect on her. Ava considers the whole endeavor a great success.  

Until Dracula manifests on the shelf again in a week’s time, without notice or fanfare, as though placed by some invisible spectral hand. She has not been looking for it, she tells herself, had made frequent returns to the library to maintain security--check locks, monitor layouts; as she keeps vigil over all the rooms in their residence. And then for another week after the book’s reappearance, Ava will avoid the room as though the entire wing had been roped off and placed under strict quarantine. She will glare down anyone who brings up the fallacy in this behavior (and has already pinned Farah with her most taciturn scowl over supper). 

Ultimately, she is weak; at her age-it is foolish. She is old, far too old for such nonsense and repeats that notion to herself like a mantra when, during the guise of night while the three other vampires sleep in a rare feat of synchronization, muscle memory takes her through the Warehouse like she’s headed for the gallows, and all too soon, the book is clutched beneath her white-knuckled fingers. The library feels suddenly occupied by old ghosts. The Grandfather clock Nate had acquired in Bavaria cuts the air with accusatory ticks as she smooths a hand over the leather. If it chimes, she’ll smash it, and supplicate herself before Nate later. 

The years have been kinder to the novel than she’d anticipated. The gold cover is faded, the binding tattered slightly with age, but the red embossed letters declare the title boldly. She is only checking for damages. Yes, it makes sense to assess the state of so old an object after someone else has had their hands on it. She splays the book open in her palm. The flyleaf still bears Ava’s initials in Nate’s neat, narrow scrawl. He had insisted on the distinction–no one would ever guess him so possessive of his belongings. Had Persephone noticed? Did she think it had been Ava’s hand that penned it? And why did it, unfathomably, matter to her at all? Her thumb skims the pages, biting down something coiling in her gut that feels like the mounting anticipation before blood's warm ichor coats her tongue, while a part of her also knows that she is fated for disappointment.

She considers abandoning this ridiculous inspection alltogether when her finger catches a crease in the corner of an off-white page, dog-eared, nearly imperceptible. Flipping it open, she finds only the expected script. But when she runs her finger over the paper, sensitive skin traces the raised line of graphite beneath a single line. 

I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air.

Ava’s stomach drops out from under her, a rug pulled beneath her feet.

It is something that’s easily dismissable. A stray marking, an absent-minded pencil strike that can be explained away. Surely nothing deliberate, nothing meant to convey a message, and even if, she will not entertain such a game.

The book is shut and hastily reshelved.

She makes it as far as her hand gripping the doorknob before the antique clock pierces the masoleum-like silence with a tolling note. The sound cuts the rigid crest of Ava's shoulders and sends her reeling back to the shelf, and then hastening to her room with preternatural speed, where she leaves the offending page open on the bed and paces an indentation into her floorboards. In this brief, fleeting lapse of sanity, she allows excitement to tingle the sensitive nerve endings in her hands. I am longing to be with you. And then embarassment overcomes it when the golden threads of dawn encroach across the white duvet of her bed to shine light on this absurd, irrational thing that she's done.

She should set fire to it. She should put a stop to all of this. Instead, she spirits the book into her ancient lockbox and tucks the words away to nestle inside her ancient ribcage.   

She will not ask Persephone what she thought of Stoker’s unflattering characterization of their kind. She will not bring this up ever again, any utterance or acknowledgement can only mean total defeat. 

But Ava has always been a woman of stringent results. And so no one can hold it against her when she puts this dialogue of theirs to the test. It is merely a matter of deduction, she tells herself, curiosity at play, a possibility to eliminate and not to evoke any more ridiculous and certainly non-existent stirrings.

There is no easy way to broach the subject of books into a conversation without sounding obvious, or otherwise doing a crude impersonation of Nate, who recites literary quotes like a clergyman with scripture--she had debated roping him into this, but, true to form, had almost immediately decided against that display of weakness.

And so Ava doesn't speak of it. Instead, she texts--and it takes her a long period of concentrated effort bent over her phone to compose a vague enough message that satisfies her, and even longer still, to muster up the courage to press send. 

'Detective.The Epic of Gilgamesh has insights into Sumerian mythology that might useful in your research of the supernatural.'

She immediately, of course, panics. Felled is her valor, not by ogres or demons or any manner of formidable creature, but by the simple technology that humans have developed to forgo the awkwardness of face-to-face communication. Thankfully, this dread is quickly put to rest by Persephone's almost instant reply. 

'OK'

How anticlimatic.

And thus, the pattern repeats. After a day, the mentioned book undergoes a period of truancy from the library and Ava sets her jaw tight as the passing time peels her raw. In due course, it reappears and when there is the assurance of no one in site, she decends upon it hungrily, soft with age and stooping at the spine. In all honesty, she can recall little of the plot, had only remembered Nate gifting it to her one innumerable anniversary or birthday or celebration, and drawing similarities between herself and the titular warrior-king.

After a brief inspection, Ava finds the dog-earred page. A single line in the whole expanse of the epic poem is emphasized with the same faint pencil trace as before. 

Hold my hands in yours, and we will not fear what hands like ours can do.

Something strange, and frightening shifts deep within Ava. She slams the book closed and with it under her arm, retreats.

—

“There are less complicated ways of going about this, you know.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Posy blowing steam off her frothing mug and Nate with his long fingers circled around a cup of tea as they indulge in their routine of early morning caffeine and commiseration at Haley’s. It’s all for her benefit, of course; this outpouring of longing and frustration with Ava at its contradictory core. Nate and his even-tempered assurances and three hundred year insight into the enigma of a vampire, interpreting her without insinuating, or otherwise offering a sympathetic ear to Posy's venting. He is a master of consolation, and always seems to know exactly what she needs to hear after an encounter with those shadowed green eyes hunting the set line of her collar or her spine or her neck. 

And he has been an accomplice, these past few weeks, to Posy’s great interpersonal experiment. 

She hadn’t entered into this with any more intention than what it’d originally began as—taking a cursory interest in a book that Ava had mentioned off-handedly. And while Wayhaven’s Public Library system was sure to carry the typical selection of classic literature, the thrumming of her heart in her ears had drawn Posy to the Warehouse and to the library carefully maintained by Nate, and to the shelf he’d more than amenably directed her to housing Ava’s century old copy of Dracula. To the pages touched by Ava's fingers and the binding that had spread upon Ava's lap and the same words that Ava's eyes had glazed over dispassionately, words that had resonated, words that Posy had singled out--perhaps a bit precociously--and maybe with an expectation that the thorough inspection Ava passes over everything that crosses in and out of her peripheral would be rewarded. 

“I don’t think this is fun for her, but rather mildly tortuous,” Nate sighs like the weight of his three hundred years is finally catching up to him. “I’m worried you’ll underline a sentence that makes her break something in there. Or throw the book all together and do it damage.” The mere thought of that appears to cause him genuine distress, wrought all over his normally tempered features. 

“I’m surprised you let me scribble in them at all,” Posy says, hiding the amused press of her lips behind the rim of her drink.

“Yes, well, annotating is an age-old literary practice. And I’ll always encourage reading. And affections of the heart. And–they’re not my books.” His mouth twitches, then curves, as though falling victim to his own train of persuasion. “Really, this is good for her.”

“I thought you said it was torture.” 

The vampire pauses to take an indulgent sip of his tea, eyes fluttering shut briefly. “Sometimes the two pair rather nicely. Like gouda cheese and a Pinot noir.” 

“Flavor analogies too? You’re in rare form today, Nate. So she has been finding them?”

“Oh, yes. The other day, I pretended not to notice her stakeout of the Mesopotamian section. Ava has many, many wonderful gifts, and subtlety is not one of them. That text she sent is evidence enough. Though I do worry you’re running out of usable material. Her tastes are…limited and narrowing.” From a leather messenger bag hanging on his seat-back, Nate procures a thick hardcover book and slides the text on castle rampart sieging across the table. “While I’m of the mind that all literature has merit, I doubt there’s any poetry in this one--I think she may be challenging you.” 

Posy takes the book under palm, casting a scrutinizing gaze over it. In place of the medieval architechture that the cover depicts, she can see only Ava's wry hint of a pursed mouth smile, the shallow press of a dimple not quite formed. Your move, Detective. “There she goes underestimating me again," Posy says with resolve. "You'd think she would’ve learned better by now.”

“There is a saying about old habits. And Ava’s are as ancient and as difficult to kill as she is.” 

“Yes. But my blood is very mysteriously and magically undoing, or haven’t you heard? Even on an ancient, unbreakable spell like Ava Du Mortain.”

Nate laughs richly like the brush of a low bell, and reaches across the table to offer her forearm an obliging pat, hands warmed from the Earl Grey. “Of that, there has never been any doubt. You truly are something special, Posy. To our little family, and that includes Ava. However long and…arduous that confession might come to be."

“Thank you, Nate," she responds with affectionate sincerity flitting about her throat, and then intontes, all business, "Now then. I have impenetrable fortresses to compare to Commanding Agents--which isn’t sounding all that difficult right about now.”  

With that, Posy opens the book and delicately, fondly, traces the crisp signature of Ava’s initials with the wayward pad of her finger.

Nate doesn't have the heart to break the illusion and tell her he'd been the one to put them there--and really, he decides, no one is hurt by this omission. 

[angclvings]

blog roll

1. scornedangcl / chris hargensen / horror / Carrie verse

2. hcvenscent / lavender moon rosewood / st verse

3. maskedvigliante / oliver queen / arrow verse

4. violcntwcys / trey blaine ashwood / horror/ scream verse

5. twistedmultimuse / multiple fc's

6. hawkinsprncss / nancy wheeler / stranger things verse

7. crueldvil / deacon munroe / horror verse

8. succubusbcbie / ryler maddison / horror verse

9. dingusbatter / steve harrington / stranger things verse

10. lcstchaos / kaden rowan nash / horror verse

11. blcndiebrbcie / marissa cooper / the o.c / open verse

12. wckdfcllenangcl / dean winchester / supernatural rp

13. brbciedcll / dylan alderidge / open / fandomless rp

14. DC3DSOUL / trey atwood au / the o.c rp / open verse

15. ANGELICALANGCL / demetria / horror rp / religious rp

16. ROTTENANGCL / andi / horror verse / religious rp

17. LOCALSCLT / jj maybank / OBX verse

18. HONEYANGCL / honey angel / open / religious verse

[tpbrdrjrjm]

Red Dead Redemption oc list (preferably rp but in addition to writing x readers I can also write stories for these characters if you’d like to see that)

If you’re interested in rping (I’m looking for someone to play John but I can play anyone for your oc as well and we can do like a mashup) just comment on this post or dm me!

Name

Age/Timeline

Occupation

Backstory

John and Abigail’s story

• Maebelle Rosewood

23 - Red Dead Redemption 2

None

A girl whose father owes the Van Der Linde gang money. He decides to give them Maebelle to pay off his debt. She is a good singer, and an excellent cook, but she can’t read or write. She falls for John pretty quickly.

John and Abigail had Jack but Abigail died in childbirth.

• Lilith (No Last Name)

25 - Red Dead Redemption 2

Prostitute

Orphaned at six Lilith lived on the streets until she met an older woman that worked as a prostitute took her in and raised and taught her what she needed to know. When the woman died Lilith was 17 and fell into the same profession. She has a soft spot for John.

John and Abigail had Jack but did not fall in love.

• Isadora Wilde

30 - Red Dead Redemption 1

Rancher

A girl who grew up on a ranch with her dad and grandmother Isadora was taught by her grandmother to read write and count though her knowledge is limited because after her grandmother’s death her father didn’t continue to teach her. She saves John’s life.

Abigail died in childbirth, the agents only have Jack.

• Rowan Thunderheart

34 - Red Dead Redemption 1

Bounty Hunter/Ex-Outlaw

Rowan’s parents were outlaws, who raised their two children to follow in their footsteps. When her family was gunned down by the FBI she gave herself up, not wanting to die quite yet, and started following the orders of Edgar Ross. Her recent order? Accompany John Marston.

Abigail was fatally injured when the FBI came to get them, they only have Jack.

[fulgurmancy]

Names and Titles based on Forests / Nature . . . for @hisreturn's 150 follower event : a non-character thing you relate to

Titles, notes, and plain text below cut.

NAMES ,, rowan , birch , aspen , ash / ashwood , sequoia , redwood , sycamore , fir , pine , maple , allthorn , arrow / arrowwood , alder , elder , buck / buckthorn , boxwood , beech , cy / cypress , myrtle , cedar , ches / chestnut , juniper , hazel , holly , hawthorne , hickory , rose / rosewood , yew , oak / oakley , elm , willow , pop / poppen / poplar , mulbery , almond , fig , fern , moss , lichen , ginger , wormwood , thistle , valerian , hyrcinian , vercors , river , creek , reed / reid , shaw , wild / wilder , ainsley , amber , autumn , vern / vernal / vernon , clover , elwood , fern / ferne / fearne , florence , forest / forrest , rain / raine , ridley , robin / robyn / robynne , yale , wren , any flower name , any bird name , any animal name

( many are taken from my own hoard )

EPITHETS* ,, the forest guardian / forest guardian {name} , the woodsman , of the fallen leaves , the {forest animal} , the antlered one , the ent / {mythical forest creature}

SOBRIQUETS** ,, {prn} of the fallen leaves , {prn} of the towering trees , {prn} who sits in high branches , {prn} who guards the meadow , {prn} who dances in the glades / meadow / forest / woods , the {title of nobility*** / noun} of the glades / meadow / forest / woods , guardian of the woods / etc. , keeper of the woods / etc. , beloved by nature , beloved of the woods / etc. , {prn} covered in bark / (fallen) leaves , {prn} of the earth , {prn} to whom the forest belongs

*meant to be used following a name, but some can be used in isolation

**meant to be used solely in isolation

***examples: lord / lady / laird, duke / duchess, king / queen / monarch

[ Plain Text: Names and Titles based on Forests/Nature ... for @/hisreturn's 150 follower event (link to event post): a non-character thing you relate to. End Plain Text. ]

[ciaossu-imagines]

hello! for the mini event, can i request bsd + hogwarts ? the characters are more or less up to you but if you could include sigma, fyodor and ranpo i would appreciate it!

thank you sm for the event, it sounds exciting~ i'll be looking forward to the various pieces

 Of course you can, my lovely anon! I’m so glad that you enjoyed the event this time and I hope you’ll enjoy the various posts as they come out, but especially this one! I had a really hard time narrowing down the characters I wanted to talk about for this one, other than being sure that I would include the ones you asked for so in the end, I decided not to pick! So, while they won’t be the most detailed headcanons, you will find below a list of almost all the BSD characters, their Hogwarts Houses, and their wands!

SCHOOL STAFF

HOGWARTS HEADMASTER: Soseki Natsume, formerly of Ravenclaw, wields a wand of acacia and threstral tail hair

CHARMS TEACHER: Santouka Taneda, formerly of Gryffindor, wields a wand of rowan and unicorn tail hair

FLYING TEACHER: Herman Melville, Head of Hufflepuff, wields a wand of maple and unicorn tail hair

HERBOLOGY TEACHER: Ryuurou Hirotsu, formerly of Hufflepuff House, wields a wand of mahogany and dragon heartstring

POTIONS TEACHER: Ouchi Fukuchi, formerly of Slytherin, wields a wand of elderwood and Rougarou hair

DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS TEACHER: Yukichi Fukuzawa, Head of Gryffindor House, wields a wand of laurel and phoenix feather

TRANSFIGURATION TEACHER: Ougai Mori, Head of Slytherin House, wields a wand of hornbeam and thestral tail hair

ALCHEMY TEACHER: Francis Scott Fitzgerald, formerly of Slytherin, wields a wand of willow and coral

DIVINATION TEACHER: Andre Gide, formerly of Slytherin, wields a wand of blackthorn and Rougarou hair

FIRST YEARS

ELISE, sorted into Slytherin House, wields a wand of silver lime and phoenix feather

AYA KODA, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of ashwood and veela hair

SECOND YEARS

KYUUSAKU ‘Q’ YUMENO, sorted into Slytherin House, wields a wand of acacia and dragon heartstring

KENJI MIYAZAWA, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of alder and unicorn tail hair

KYOUKA IZUMI, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of poplar and thestral tail hair

SHIRASE BUICHIROU, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of ebony and dragon heartstring

NAOMI TANIZAKI, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of redwood and veela hair

THIRD YEARS

ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA, sorted into Hufflepuff House, wields a wand of rosewood and phoenix feather

JUNICHIROU TANIZAKI, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of birch and unicorn tail hair

LOUISA MAY ALCOTT, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of beech and coral

ICHIYOU HIGUCHI, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of cedar and unicorn tail hair

LUCY MAUD MONTGOMERY, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of reed and unicorn tail hair

SAIGIKU JOUNO, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of laurel and unicorn tail hair

FOURTH YEARS

RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA, sorted into Slytherin House, wields a wand of ash and dragon heartstring

MARGARET MITCHELL, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of applewood and dragon heartstring

NIKOLAI GOGOL, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of elmwood and veela hair

ADAM FRANKENSTEIN, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of dogwood and unicorn tail hair

JOHN STEINBECK, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of alder and dragon heartstring

FIFTH YEARS

OSAMU DAZAI, sorted into Slytherin House, wields a wand of pine and veela hair

DOPPO KUNIKIDA, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of red oak and unicorn tail hair

CHUUYA NAKAHARA, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of aspen and thestral tail hair

MARK TWAIN, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of sycamore and phoenix feather

IVAN GONCHAROV, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of rosewood and dragon heartstring

TECCHOU SUEHIRO, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of pine and coral

SIGMA, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of English oak and phoenix feather

KIRAKO HARUNO, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of birch and dragon heartstring

KITAI TAYAMA, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of hazel and troll whisker

A, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of hawthorn and Rougarou hair

SAKUNOSUKE ‘ODASAKU’ ODA, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of spruce and unicorn tail hair

MUSHITAROU OGURI, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of walnut and phoenix feather

AKIKO YOSANO, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of hawthorn and veela hair

ANGO SAKUGUCHI, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of silver lime and coral

SIXTH YEARS

RANPO EDOGAWA, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of silver lime and unicorn tail hair

KOUYOU OZAKI, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of willow and veela hair

PAUL VERLAINE, sorted into Gryffindor, wields a wand of yew and dragon heartstring

FYODOR DOSTOYEVSKY, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of yew and thestral tail hair

NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of vine and unicorn tail hair

BRAM STOKER, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of fir and thestral tail hair

SEVENTH YEARS

MOTOJIROU KAIJI, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of larch and dragon heartstring

HOWARD PHILLIPS LOVECRAFT, sorted into Hufflepuff, wields a wand of elm and troll whisker

EDGAR ALLEN POE, sorted into Ravenclaw, wields a wand of walnut and veela hair

ALEXANDER PUSHKIN, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of holly and dragon heartstring that is noticeably longer than usual

TERUKO OOKURA, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of holly and dragon heartstring that is noticeably shorter than usual

RANDO, sorted into Slytherin, wields a wand of cedar and phoenix feather

[akikocho]

Idk why I managed to doodle Maya's twin but here he is!

𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲

𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐬: Chi/Kai (by Maya), Brett (by his mother), Chap (by Jacob), The Second Hero of Hogwarts (by Penny)

𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞: 10th August 1973

𝐀𝐠𝐞: 15 (currently in year 5)

𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: Pureblood

𝐄𝐭𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲: Scottish-Filipino

𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭: Chaotic Good

𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈: ENTP

Appearance:

𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 175 cm (5'9)

𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐞: Fair

𝐄𝐲𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫: Gold

𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫: Black

𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬:

• Like Maya, he has not so obvious freckles on his cheeks

• Has a clover like shaped birthmark on his right arm

𝐇𝐨𝐠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬:

𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝: Acacia with unicorn hair core, 12 inches pliable

𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞: Slytherin

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:Keeper

𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦: Doberman Dog

𝐁𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦: Maya's missing persons poster, Bugs

𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐤𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦: A howler with Maya's voice saying "I'm fine/I'm safe", Bug shaped gummies

𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐦: Dog

𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭: Soils of Forbidden Forest, Pumpkin Pie, A muggle perfume for men that smells like rosewood

𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭: Care for Magical Creatures, Flying, Charms, DADA

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭: History of Magic

𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛: Dragon Club, Sphinx Club

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬: Friendly, Loyal, Kind, Trustworthy, Selfless, Intelligent, Empathetic, Creative, Open-minded

𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬: Secretive, Overprotective, Sensitive

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬:

𝐇𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬: Learning about Magical Creatures (esp dragons)

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬: Dragons, Reading, Sweet foods, His sister, The person he fancies

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬: Bullies, Attention seekers, Self proclaimers, Inequality

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬:

𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲:

• Bruce "Peregrine" Avery (father)

• Mabel Avery née Sallow (mother)

• Jacob Bennett Avery (older brother)

• Maya Bell Avery (older twin sister)

• Marigold Beau Avery (younger sister)

• Castor and Astral Sallow (cousins)

𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐬:

• Joel (Toad)

• Lizabeth (Lizard)

• Maya (white cat)

𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬:

• Charlie Weasley

• Bill Weasley

• Barnaby Lee

• Liz Tuttle

• Rowan Khanna

• Ben Copper

• Nymphadora Tonks

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬:

• Penny Haywood

• Skye Parkin

𝐀𝐜𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬:

• TBA

𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬:

• Merula Snyde

• Dark Wizard Cabal "R"

𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧:

• Argus Filch

• Patricia Rakepick

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭:

• Tulip Karasu (started at the end of 3rd year and ended at the end of 4th year)

• Andre Egwu (year 5 till the future)

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐬:

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 10/10

𝐀𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲: 8/10

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞: 9/10

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐚: 9/10

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚: 10/10

𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐬𝐬: 8/10

𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:

• Malachi is 8 minutes younger than Maya.

• He's the reason of Maya's love for inventing.

• He shares the same features with his little sister, Marigold (black hair, golden eyes).

• Unlike Maya who has anger towards Jacob, he feels bad and concern to his older brother for being missing.

• Very chaotic in his own way. That makes Tulip took interest in him.

• TBA

[ash-and-books]

Rating: 4/5

Book Blurb: In award-winning author Kristen Kiesling and illustrator Rye Hickman’s YA graphic novel The Harrowing, a psychic teen hunts potential killers until she discovers the boy she loves is her next target.   Rowan Sterling should be worrying about normal teenage things like attending college and whether her best friend Lucas is maybe more than a friend. . . . Instead, she’s having terrifying visions of blood and violence. As the premonitions increase in number and intensity, Rowan seeks her father’s help, but instead finds herself drugged, kidnapped, and sent to a mysterious facility called Rosewood. It isn’t long before Rowan discovers Rosewood isn’t a boarding school or an asylum: it’s a training center for teens with special abilities who are known as Harrows.   Harrows can view the actions of would-be murderers before they commit crimes, and the scientists at Rosewood believe it is their duty to use the Harrows’ powers to make the world a safer place. When they are apprehended by a Harrow, imminent criminals, known as imcrims, are captured and indefinitely detained in a state of sedation. At Rosewood, the Harrows are taught how to identify, track, and apprehend imcrims.   Rowan is immediately drawn to Rosewood’s mission; after all, she lost her mother to a random act of violence two years prior. However, some of the other Harrows question the treatment of imcrims—how can it be ethical to imprison people who haven’t actually done anything yet?   Empowered by the skills she’s acquired and ready to change the world, Rowan returns home, but when she reunites with Lucas, she has a vision of him shooting a man in cold blood. Now Rowan is questioning everything she learned at Rosewood—she refuses to believe Lucas is capable of murder—and sets out to protect him from the Harrows.

Review:

When a teen discovers that she has psychic powers she is tasked to hunt down potential killers...until she finds out that her best friend and the boy she is in love with is her next target. Rowan Sterling has always been different and she's wanted nothing more than to be a regular teen and go to college with her best friend, whom she might have a crush on.... yet she's been seeing strange and terrifying things ever time her hand touches someone. Rowan knows something is wrong with her and so her father sends her to a mysterious facility called Rosewood. At Rosewood, they'll train her along with other teens with special abilities, and her mother also went there before she was murdered. Rowan begins to use her ability to stop killers... yet is it ethical to treat these people and capture them if they haven't even done anything yet? She begins to question everything when she touches her best friend's hand and sees him shooting a man in cold blood. She firmly believes that Lucas isn't capable of doing something like that and will do anything to protect him. What is right and what is wrong? Can she save Lucas? This was a really unique and interesting story. The moral questions it brings up is really interesting and the story was so fun to go along with. The artwork is really nice and I loved how everything wrapped up!

*Thanks Netgalley and ABRAMS Kids, Amulet Books for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

[wandloreinamerica]

Can I ask about Elder and Silver Lime? It's so hard to find information about these wood types

Just so we are starting firmly in canon

Elder

The rarest wand wood of all, and reputed to be deeply unlucky, the elder wand is trickier to master than any other. It contains powerful magic, but scorns to remain with any owner who is not the superior of his or her company; it takes a remarkable wizard to keep the elder wand for any length of time. The old superstition, ‘wand of elder, never prosper,’ has its basis in this fear of the wand, but in fact, the superstition is baseless, and those foolish wandmakers who refuse to work with elder do so more because they doubt they will be able to sell their products than from fear of working with this wood. The truth is that only a highly unusual person will find their perfect match in elder, and on the rare occasion when such a pairing occurs, I take it as certain that the witch or wizard in question is marked out for a special destiny. An additional fact that I have unearthed during my long years of study is that the owners of elder wands almost always feel a powerful affinity with those chosen by rowan.

— Given that this is a very rare wood, it does not surprise me that there isn’t a lot of information about it. I personally have not worked with it. The one person I can remember talking about working with it noted that the smaller branches have a pith core. While this might make it easier to insert a magical core, it does present durability issues. If a solid wood wand is desired, this wouldn’t mean that it has to come from either a fairly large branch or the trunk proper. This in turn limits how much wood can be obtained from a tree.

Silver Lime

This unusual and highly attractive wand wood was greatly in vogue in the nineteenth century. Demand outstripped supply, and unscrupulous wandmakers dyed substandard woods in an effort to fool purchasers into believing that they had purchased silver lime. The reasons for these wands’ desirability lay not only in their unusually handsome appearance, but also because they had a reputation for performing best for Seers and those skilled in Legilimency, mysterious arts both, which consequently gave the possessor of a silver lime wand considerable status. When demand was at its height, wandmaker Arturo Cephalopos claimed that the association between silver lime and clairvoyance was ‘a falsehood circulated by merchants like Gerbold Ollivander (my own grandfather), who have overstocked their workshops with silver lime and hope to shift their surplus’. But Cephalopos was a slipshod wandmaker and an ignoramus, and nobody, Seer or not, was surprised when he went out of business.

— This is the canon description. If you are in the Old World, outside of the British Isles, you might look for this and related woods under the common name Linden. In North America, it is most commonly called Basswood. In any case these woods belong to the genus Tilia and are very very similar physically. Below the cut, I have included my own thoughts on the genus.

The canon description of silver lime has always puzzled me. Tilia woods are an off white when freshly worked and age to a pale tan or yellow, if unfinished. The grain is very faint, and the wood is light weight. This makes it a fantastic hand carving wood. It’s workability made it one of the premiere woods for carving in the medieval ages and today.

This workability could account for the “unusually handsome appearance” as a silver lime wand may have been exquisitely carved. But the fact that dye is mentioned as being used to trick people indicates that color not carving is the identifying factor. This is a might perplexing as I would not compare Tila’s color with tropical hardwoods valued for color like redheart, ebony, rosewood or canary wood. Nor would I compare it to temperate woods like black walnut, black cherry, Holly or yew.

With respect to arcane properties, I find these wands more aligned with protection, justice and the law, and healing. But that could be because I use basswood not Silver Lime.

[acircusfullofdemons]

PARAMAY DAY 11 (SUCCESS)

As a whole, Calypso could be considered pretty successful. He runs a circus. He has a boyfriend, then husband, and eventually the two have children together. Sure RoseWood is kind of a nightmare to live in, but it's got some charm to it, as well. All things considered, it is a nice house.

Hell. I have daydreamed about the "end" of Phantasmagoria multiple times. I know how it ends. Cali and his friends "win" the game they're playing and get to go home.

…but that's…sort of it. They go home, with no way back. A fact that brings them relief in the moment — because everything they just went through was traumatizing as hell — but after a while…they want to go back. I mean, they technically don't even know each other that well. Everything they learned about the other had to do with their lives in Arcadia: family, childhoods, etc. The fact that they now have to address it wasn't real and they now have to actually get to know each other…it's rough.

Especially for Calypso. I mean, he and Rowan got married, they had children!! Three kids!!! They had so many special bonding moments, private conversations about things they'd never tell anyone else, and now it's…what? Gone? It happened but also technically didn't.

So the question remains: did Calypso succeed? Only on a technicality. Yes, he "won" Arcadia/Polybius, but he also lost nearly everything that made his life so great. 

[nicomaxx13]

A List of My Original Characters:

(Will be updated as i post more)

-Enya Brookes

-Ayda

-Florence Rosewood

-Nova

-Neva

-Bella Vosa

-Aela

-Rowan Noel

[conradmorpho]

did tolkien get inspiration for Two Towers from Talisein's Battle of the Trees?

I was in Caer Nefenhirfn2 When grass and wood went to war. Poets were singing, Soldiers attacking. A new dawn for the Britons Conjured by Gwydion.fn3 He called upon Heaven, On the Christ of all powers, That he might deliver them, 50Their Lord who had made them. And God gave him answer: ‘Through language, skilled man, Make majestic trees seem Like a hundred-strong army, Resisting the vigorous,’ Spendthrift warlord. When the trees were enchanted – So our hopes were raised5 – They mowed soldiers down 60With their mighty boughs. They fell upon armies For thirty days’ battle. A woman lamenting: Mourning is budding. At the head, first mother;6 There was sleepless spoil-hunger. But it caused us no harm – Blood up to our thighs. Worst of three Commotions 70That came on the world – The one that unfolded Because of the Deluge: Then Christ’s crucifixion, Then Judgement to come. First came the Alder,7 Which struck the first blow. Willow and Rowan Came late to the muster. The spiny Blackthorn 80Was hungry for bloodshed. Skillful, the Medlar Made ready for battle. Rosewood advanced On a raging army. The Bramble came forth, Raising no rampart To save his own life. Privet, Honeysuckle, Ivy – despite seeming soft – 90Were fierce in the fight. The Cherry was wary. Birch, although noble, Was slow to get dressed, Not from being spineless But due to its greatness. Golden Rod was resolved – Foreigners by sea.8 The Pine was the best, Won the chair9 in the contest. 100Ash wrought great deeds In the presence of princes. Despite its great wealth Elm budged not an inch – Raining down blows On centre, flank, rear. Hazel gauged weapons For the tumult of war. Dogwood, be blessed, Battle’s bull, lord of all. 110Morawc and Morytfn4 10 […] Beech grew prolific; Though Holly turned pale It was brave in battle. Infamous Hawthorn Gave festering wounds. Though slashed at, the Vine Was cut down in the fray. Bracken grew rampant;

But broom, at the head, 120Was trampled in mud. Though unlucky, Gorse Still joined in the force. A spell brought Heather To join, famous fighter. […] in pursuit. Oak’s passionate shout Made earth and sky shake. Brave pillager, Woad, Was named in the record. 130Even the splintered tree11 Created panic. Repulsing, it repelled, And stabbed others. At force Pear excelled On the battlefield – A terrifying wave Of sweet-scented Clover.12 Though shy, the Chestnut13 Fought alongside bold trees.

[graphicpolicy]

Preview: The Harrowing

The Harrowing preview. Rowan discovers Rosewood isn't a boarding school or an asylum: it's a training center for teens with special abilities who are known as Harrows #comics #comicbooks #graphicnovel

[rawpickle]

"so... the rumours were true."

- 10 september 2019

[lynnslight]

Names and Apple Dumplings

For @ladyramora to brighten her spirits.

A sweet autumn breeze made its way through the air, carrying with it hints of cinnamon and nutmeg. Whilst they hadn’t seen any villages around celebrating All Saint’s Wake, they certainly had seen plenty of preparation for Harvest Festivals.

Ramora and Lynn had been wandering the world with their two Drow for the changing of a season, and still they had yet to find a name. It had been discussed several times over the passing nights, spoken of over fires, some ideas from Lynn, and some from Ramora, though none quite stuck in a way that made the twins. It had become something of a routine, for the pair of lovebirds to think of a name each night to try.

Lynn purred as the smell carried over to where they group was walking through town. “Ramora!” She exclaimed with a noise of joy. “Do you smell that? Smells like Apple Dumplings.” A short little happy dance from the Dragoness before she darted forward, dragging the Duskwight along with her. 

The group follows Lynn as she searches for the source of the smell, her tail swishing behind excitedly. It was such a difference from how Lynn had been in Eorzea, the normally stoic and fierce warrior had given way to a woman who was overjoyed to experience simple pleasures without the weight of the world behind them both. 

The call of a salesman wasn’t far now. “Come get your apple dumplings, and fresh whipped cream! Perfect for the Harvest Festival! Freshly cooked over Rowan and Cassia wood, so you know our mix will be sweet!”

Ramora chuckled a little at the Dragoness, her excited mannerisms just made the Duskwight smile. No matter how Daemryss itched at the back of her mind, she wouldn’t let the Succubus ruin her day. 

“This is the Dragon that dominated us? How embarrassing. She is little more than a girl acting the way she is”. The Voidsent complained, a deep disgust for the current situation hanging in her soul. 

“Yes, and she’s happy this way, with me, as I am. You don’t seem to complain when she deigns to feed you. You don’t get to complain simply because it is the two of us enjoying life. You’re not in charge here, this adventure is for us, not for you.” 

After the Duskwight finished her small internal argument, she was presented with a dumpling, and a small wooden spoon to enjoy it with.

Lynn hands one each to the Drow as well, their ears perk up, as they have a sweet tooth, just as the pair of lovebirds did. The noise her lover makes at the first bite though, is much like the one Lynn did when first smelling the dumplings. The Duskwight’s ears wiggled slightly with happiness. The expression much easier to see with her more pronounced ears.“Lynn this is amazing! They weren’t kidding, they’re nice and tart, the sauce is sweet, the cream is perfect for this!”

The twins eagerly followed suit, digging into their dumplings, and many noises of content could be heard by the two as they took their time. Lynn, however, decided that her dumpling wasn’t quite sweet enough, and beckoned Ramora over, kissing her with the taste of cinnamon and apple still on her mouth.

 “There.” Lynn grinned, pulling away from their kiss. “That was the flavor I was looking for.” She seemed awfully pleased with herself, before turning to finish working on her dumpling. 

Ramora couldn’t help but grin just as much as her partner, enjoying the fire that burned in the woman’s heart. What did the salesman say? Rowan? Cassia? Those are strong names, and one for each of them. The Duskwight laughed softly to herself, certainly she’d defeat Lynn in their naming attempt this night. 

It had become something of a small contest between them, to find a name that the Drow would take as their own. The twins wanted names that felt right to them, and none so far had fit. ‘A name is a powerful thing.’ That’s what Lynn said, we need to find names that represent them well. 

Her succubus stirred inside, giving a rare comment that wasn’t sarcastic or hurtful. 

“To Name something is to make it Better, Stronger, to imbue it with a quality that was previously not there, or to empower a quality it already has. Names are more important than that still, to know the true name of something is to have a measure of power over it. As the person giving the Name, you’ll be bonding with them in a way you don’t quite understand. That’s why you’ll never know my true name.”

 She cackles at that last bit, trying to sour a genuine bit of advice. Of course, she can’t admit to being helpful, that would be too much.

Later that night as the group sat around their fire, finishing their meals before the start of this evening’s attempt at names. Lynn tried first. 

“How about…. Alice, and…. Alex?” The Dragoness had thought for a while on these names and was hoping at least one of them would stick. 

 The Drow paused, looked at each other thoughtfully for a short moment before shaking their heads. 

“No, neither of those is quite right. Better than last time though, your foreign names don’t quite suit us at all.” 

Ramora smiled, it seemed it was her turn, and she was full confident that the two would enjoy these. 

“How about Rowan, and Cassie? They’re strong trees, they burn warmly, and are quite sweet to smell.”

The twins pause again, a warm bit of magic exuding from them both, the sweet smell the Drow emit a little stronger for but a moment. 

“Well, well.” The Succubus spoke again in her head. “Seems you guessed their true names. How cute. Be careful with that knowledge.”

 After the short intermission from Daemryss, the twins grin at Ramora. 

“I think so. Rowan, and Cassie. Those are good names for us.”

"Rowan and Cassie, hmm?" The Dragoness says with a smile as she scoots closer to her lover, elbowing her with a playful tap. "Seems you found the perfect names, guess you get to be on top tonight." Lynn chuckles in reference to the promise of the defeated from their first duel. "I hope you don't mind, we will be in your hands."