#Under the Acacia

[regallibellbright]

So, I've been thinking about Toby's knives.

Well, okay, I specifically think primarily about Toby's main knife, but there's something interesting to be said about all three of the knives she "regularly" wears (silver, iron, and the new one.) All three of them are gifts. All three of them are given to her by someone expecting Toby to be a hero.

"Ms. Daye?" "Yes, Dare?" It was like trying to leave kindergartners with a babysitter. If I was lucky, they'd run out of questions before the sun went down. Maybe. "Here." She pulled a knife out of her sleeve, offering it to me. I didn't recognize the style of the blade, but if it was street legal, I'm a Kelpie. "In case you don't scream fast enough." "Good idea," I said. She looked almost disappointed by my reaction - she was still young enough for the rules against saying thank you to seem pointless. I winked, sliding the knife into my belt with the edge facing outward to keep me from cutting myself. She brightened, reading the unspoken gratitude in my eyes. She was pretty smart when she let herself be.

(Rosemary and Rue, Chapter 21, pages 239-240)

The first and most important, of course, is Dare's knife. And yet, this is a pretty minor moment. There's no sign this particular knife is special to Dare - it's mentioned earlier she's got enough weapons on her at the moment to clank. Manuel will ask for it later, claiming it was a loan, but that's the most he can say - and May, who would know, corrects him that it was a gift.

By this point, Dare's already told Toby she wants to get away from Devin and take Manuel with her, and Dare asks because Toby's already her hero. She got out. Dare doesn't get to, in the end. And so the knife that Dare all but offhandedly gave her becomes a keepsake, and one of Toby's most valued possessions. As Toby says taking it in A Local Habitation, maybe Dare's knife would help her be someone else's hero. Eventually, it does. Dare's knife is Toby's promise to herself not to fail anyone again. It's the justification she uses when she needs to go back and confront Blind Michael. (Incidentally, May tells her they can get a new knife in response. For all that she remembers being Dare, she doesn't yet understand what the knife is to Toby.) It's so tied to Toby's identity that when she loses her way home, among all the allies she can't recognize or only knows as enemies -

[Quentin] walked toward me, pausing to bend and gingerly retrieve a silver knife from the floor. It looked sharp. It also looked well-used; there were flecks of blood dried on the hilt, and streaks of something much fresher on the blade. "I'll just, um, hold this for you, for now," he said. "I promise I'll give it back when you're ready." "You can't give it back when it's not mine," I snarled. At least I could talk.

(A Killing Frost, Chapter 19, page 266)

Toby thinks at this point that she's sworn to Sylvester and can return to him, not knowing she's banished. He's not part of her way home anymore. But the knife is. When Toby can't recognize the knife, it's because she's not herself anymore. (Incidentally, it says a lot about how thoroughly Sylvester fucked up, particularly in AKF, that Shadowed Hills isn't home anymore.) On top of that, because of its link to Dare, the knife is also Home - the shitty flophouse for changelings with nowhere else to go run by an exploitative crime lord, but also the place where Toby learned to fight and survive. Sylvester's tried to teach her, but she's not the kind of knight to use a sword.

Moving on:

Then Acacia's hand was on my shoulder, and a knife was landing in the dust beside me. "Kill him or let him go, Amandine's daughter, but don't torture him," she said. "Make your choice. You haven't got much time." I looked up. "Acacia -" She looked down at me, the short tendrils of her hair curling around her face. When I distracted Blind Michael, that must have broken his hold on her, allowing her to rip herself free. "No. You let others make your choices too often. Kill him or let him live, but do it now. No more games." "I don't know what to do." "You always know. You just don't listen to yourself." She shook her head, turning, and started to walk away. The Riders parted to let her pass, still silent, still staring at me. Choices. Oh, Oberon's blood, choices. I put the candle between my teeth, keeping my knife pressed tight against Blind Michael's throat. The flame licked at my cheek, filling the air with the hot smell of singed blood as I reached out and picked up Acacia's knife. I almost dropped it when the metal hit my hand. Iron - it was made of iron. It would have to be; did I really think I could kill one of the Firstborn with silver alone? That was never an option. Not really. ... "I'm sorry," I said. "I can't forgive you." I lifted my hand, bringing the two knives together, and slammed them together down into his throat. Iron slices through faerie flesh like it's nothing but dry leaves and air. That's what iron exists to do: it kills us. Silver can do almost as well, if you use it properly. Acacia's knife was iron, Dare's was silver, and I held them together as I thrust downward. ... It didn't really matter; he was dead, I had won, and I couldn't fight anymore. No more children would suffer because of him. In the end, I'd proved myself as a child of Oberon's line, no matter how much I tried to deny it; I was a hero...

(An Artificial Night, Chapter 31, pages 295-296)

A longer passage there because Acacia's knife is by far the one that gets the most dramatic focus when Toby receives it, for obvious reasons. But it's also more significant than the moment itself. Up to this point, the closest Toby comes to considering herself a hero in more than Dare's eyes is just before the Ride, where she thinks that all her kids are safe (except Katie, who she can't save,) and that she should run before the Ride begins, even if it kills her, because at least then she'd die a hero. There's even a moment early in the book where the Luidaeg calls her a child of Oberon (five pages after Toby reflects to herself that the children of Oberon are heroes,) and Toby thinks to herself that the Luidaeg's wrong, since she still thinks she's Daoine Sidhe.

But she claims it here, because she has no option not to. You can't kill one of the great monsters of Faerie and not accept that you are, ultimately, a hero. So long as she's herself, Toby won't deny that she's a hero again.

Toby carries Acacia's knife with her regularly for the period of time between the end of An Artificial Night and the events of Late Eclipses. This is all but exactly six months - she receives it on October 31, 2010, going back to confront Michael almost immediately after being freed from the Ride. She stops being able to carry it regularly once Amandine changes her blood, in early May 2011. (I’d have to reread Late Eclipses in full to get the exact point it ends, since she’s still carrying it even though she can feel it in the scabbard at the very end.) After that, she keeps it secured at home unless her blood’s changed far enough back towards mortal that it’s safe. But she always keeps the iron knife, and she always brings it with her when she IS more mortal than fae. In The Brightest Fell, she notes the hilt fits perfectly for her. She has to throw it off her when she changes back in Chimes at Midnight, but once the False Queen’s been ousted, Toby apparently makes sure to reclaim it from the treasury. It’s not a good idea to lose a gift from one of the Firstborn, after all. And you never know when you might need to kill another one, especially when one of them is your (terrible) mother. Which she considers, to some extent, at the start of The Brightest Fell, and openly threatens in its ending to get Tybalt and Jazz back.

In short, Toby thinks of the iron knife as being a part of her life for much longer than it actually was, consistently. Part of it’s definitely that it represents the balance of her blood the way she was used to for most of her life - after all, when she gets another blood choice vision in CAM, the choice is presented as iron and silver knives for human and fae. But it’s also the knife she used to kill one of the Firstborn. Dare’s knife is Toby’s promise to be a hero going forward. Acacia’s knife is Toby choosing the title, and all the danger that comes with it. She stabs them both into Michael at the same time. When she’s rebalancing her blood, in CAM, she does the same thing to herself.

"... You do make the first cut, though, and you use my knife to do it, since yours is probably covered with something unspeakable that would despoil my beautiful creation." "Or she can use mine," said a male voice, from behind me. I turned. There was Oberon, still in his mostly-unassuming buise, the antlers on his brow small enough not to attract more attention than he wanted. He was wearing red, which was a little odd, since he wasn't part of the official wedding party, but he was also Oberon, which meant absolutely no one, not even his daughters, was going to tell him "no". And he was holding a knife by the blade, offering it to me hilt-first. I blinked, first at the blade, then at him. "Sire?" I asked. This was one of those things that probably held some great meaning and import no one had ever bothered to explain to me, assuming it wouldn't be important enough to matter. ... "I would be honored," I said, and took the knife from Oberon's hand, turning to face the cake. ... Oberon was gone when I turned around, leaving me holding his knife. I tightened my grip on the handle. I wasn't putting this one down until I could return it to its owner.

(And With Reveling, the novella/epilogue to When Sorrows Come, pages 360-361)

Today would be the first day I carried two knives to Arden's Court. The first, the silver, was familiar. The second was relatively new, although it felt natural and easy in my hand, and was made of a material I still hadn't identified. In a very real way, it was the only gift I had received on my actual wedding day. ... The knife was different. I hadn't even realized it was a gift at first; I'd thought it was just something I could use to cut the cake. But when I'd tried to return it, the Luidaeg had interceded, explaining that once her father - you know, Oberon himself - handed someone a weapon, it was a grave insult to hand it back, and did I really want to insult my grandfather, the Lord of All Faerie, on my wedding day? Was I that eager to become something genuinely unpleasant and leave Tybalt functionally a widower? I was not. And so now I carried a gift from the father of us all on my left hip, sharp and deadly and ready to be used. But no pressure.

(Be The Serpent, Chapter Two, pages 9-10)

Oberon's knife is given with so little ceremony Toby doesn't realize it's truly a gift at first, at a time where - for once - Toby does not actually need a knife for standard stabbing purposes. Oberon's knife immediately has the kind of importance that Toby isn't entirely comfortable with it, in stark contrast to how quick she is to accept the iron knife and how thoroughly the silver knife has become an extension of her identity. She's gotten used to being a hero, and even a hero of the realm - she lets/asks Aethlin to re-recognize her hero status so she can help investigate, which may or may not mean she's now a hero of the entire Westlands as a realm, not just Maples. (Neither of them bothers to specify.) But when a god gives you a knife, it's understandable to be a little hesitant about it. It's given under the most gift-like circumstances of the three - Dare's was a preemptive gift for self-defense, and Acacia's came with a direct request: Kill Blind Michael, or not, but choose. Oberon's gift is more to have than to cut that cake, even if it's not laid out until later.

Dare's knife's metal isn't actually specified in Rosemary and Rue - it's specified when things are iron in that book, but Toby never actually bothers to mention what they use instead. It comes up for the first time in A Local Habitation, instead. What's important to know at the time is that it's a knife, and a pretty unexceptional one, because Dare thinks Toby might need it. Acacia's knife, of course, is immediately singled out as iron. Oberon's knife is just left as "a knife" in And With Reveling (most importantly, a CLEAN knife,) but when it first comes up in Be The Serpent its material is explicitly mentioned as unknown. We immediately know that will be important. Oberon's children are heroes. The man himself does not give weapons lightly.

The Luidaeg waited until the door was closed behind her before she spoke again. "I saw my father hand you a knife at the wedding," she said. "I know he didn't take it back. Do you have it with you?" "I do," I said, and touched the knife belted to my hip. "Show me." Pulling the knife from its sheath felt like a promise I didn't want to be making, as if by doing so, even when asked, I was committing to using it for its intended purpose. The Luidaeg held her hand out and I dropped the handle into her palm, letting her take the blade for me. She lifted it toward the light, squinting. "Hmm," she said. "I think it's antler, rather than bone, but it should still work." "Oh, go- Wait, what?" "Antler. You know what those are, don't you?" She offered the knife back. I took it. "They're the handles on the stag. Not that I'd suggest grabbing them if you don't have a damn good reason, since the best-case scenario when you do that is being stuck on the end of a pissed-off stag. Bone would be better, but I guess Daddy has a renewable source for antler. He drops them every spring, right around Moving Day, and we used to use them for all sorts of things. There's a piece in every hope chest." "You're telling me that I've been carrying around a piece of Oberon?" I demanded, staring at the knife in my hand. The Luidaeg nodded, apparently untroubled. "He isn't good at showing people he likes them, but he must like you, if he's giving you one of those. He tends to keep them close, given what they're used for." "What's that?" "Murder, mostly." She said it so lightly, like it was nothing out of the ordinary. "Silver and iron for a Firstborn, silver and bone - or antler - for our parents. Not that we know that for sure, of course. It was just what the magic seemed to indicate, and what the oracles Saw, back when there were enough of us to ask." I kept staring at the knife. I couldn't seem to take my eyes away. "So you're telling me this knife could - could -" "Could kill Titania, if you used it correctly and caught her off-guard, yes, I am," said the Luidaeg.

(Be The Serpent, Chapter Twelve, pages 161-162)

Oberon's knife is a piece of himself, and it is the ability to kill one of the Three, if Toby dares, if Toby deems it necessary. Granted, that last part was also the case with Acacia's knife - she's Firstborn too, after all. (And of course, ANY knife has the capacity to kill a changeling like Toby starts the series, or Dare.) But coming from the King of All Faerie, it feels even more tremendous, particularly because it's given when the only one of the Three active is Oberon himself. He's actually surprised when Toby discusses killing Titania or threatens him in Be The Serpent. He isn't actually expecting her to start thinking about killing gods with her god-killing knife. Oberon doesn't think about things he knows A LOT. Toby probably gets it from him.

But he's already given her his absolute trust. You don't give someone the one kind of knife that can kill your wives and yourself if you think they would use it irresponsibly.

Toby's wedding is in many ways, in- and out of universe, a recognition of her heroism. Oberon's knife is, as well. And with it comes the burden she's locked herself into: She's the one who brought Oberon home. She's the restorer of the Roane. She's the one who will go to the Heart of Faerie. She has broken the bindings on Titania, set on her by Oberon himself, and destroyed the illusions of Titania; unraveling something of Maeve's seems as inevitable as finding her and bringing her home as well. The antler knife isn't just marking her a hero, it's marking her as something all but mythic.

Even a hero would be nervous about that responsibility.

But for all the weight it carries, it still feels natural to use, just like the iron knife. The antler knife and the role it brings with it are just as much a part of Toby as the silver and iron. And by the time she receives it, she's more than earned it already.

[strangerinalostworld]

yeah, i’d fuck that guitar solo

[acaciapines]

thinking about them (the dess/chara relationship that only exists in my head)

[a-suspicious-lack-of-bagel]

having spent a long while reassembling the bottom of my car (was replacing a headlight, dropped it; retrieving it required disassembly); it was VERY satisfying when the last piece of plastic finally went into its clip.

anyways, I don't think I'm one of them but I think I understand objectum ppl slightly more now

[imabiscuitinthousandworlds]

i should not be allowed to read this author at emotional times. like. late at night. relocated from sleeping on the sofa (again lmao) at like 2am and was awake and i had mentioned that i really loved the play that one author had written (yes, the one filling me with admiration and envy so bad that let's not get into that) to my teacher and she also really likes that author and loaned me two books of his. so i decided, hey, i'm gonna read a bit, either i get tired and fall asleep (good) or i finish the book (also good) except now i'm hit once again by this stupid emotion mocktail i wanna write like that so so so bad but i'll never be able to write this or something like it because he already did that, that's the point, so now i'm tired but still not sleeping because ough and also i should really analyse the story maybe

[furaill]

For context:

There is a BSD mod for the game Lobotomy Corporation.

Basically Fyodor was sent to work on an abnormality but lost his sanity and started running around. He didn't attack anyone and simply ran; so I sent a team of healers after him but they all had heavy and slow weapons, so whenever they encountered him he would escape too quickly for them. This has gone on for at least 10 minutes and was very funny to watch :)

[johziii]

cc is included in the .package files (put in your mods & library folder!)

you can use them as a base or play as they are

warning: i use a bunch of sliders (listed here)

cc list is under the cut

pls DO NOT claim them as your own & feel free to credit me!

TOU ♥ CC PAGE ♥ MY KO-FI ♥

tobias | angeline | phoenix | catania | acacia

on all sims: skin, contacts, blush/facial details (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8), lashes

✧.* tobias

general: hair, eyebrows

everyday: top, bottom, shoes, piercings

formal: outfit

sleepwear: top, bottom

athletic: top, shoes

✧.* angeline

general: hair, eyebrows, eyeshadow, lips

everyday: top, bottom, shoes, earrings

formal: dress, necklace

sleepwear: outfit

athletic: top, bottom, shoes

✧.* phoenix

general: hair, eyebrows, nose piercing, facial hair

everyday: top, bottom, shoes

✧.* catania

general: hair, eyebrows, tattoos, nails, eyeshadow, eyeliner, lips

everyday: top, bottom, shoes, necklace, earrings

✧.* acacia

general: hair, eyebrows, tattoos, nails, eyeshadow, eyeliner, lips, nose piercing

everyday: top, bottom, shoes, necklace

formal: dress, shoes

sleepwear: top, bottom

athletic: top, bottom, shoes

swimwear: outfit

[towriteloveontheirarms]

The princess´ favour (Criston Cole x Targtower!Reader)

synopsis: Your love may never be accepted by the people around you, that doesn´t hold you back from expressing it in the privacy of your chambers.

warnings: age gap, kinda forbidden relationship, smut, oral sex (m receiving), afab reader

word count: 1.9k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bucknastysbabe

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by me

As a girl you never understood what was so great about tourneys. Sitting beside your mother, flinching away from the raw violence of it all, while your brothers watched with a fascination you had rarely seen them have for anything. However, now as a woman grown, you began to see the appeal. Not for the fighting, but for something entirely else. Or rather someone entirely else. Sitting all the way in the front row of the stands with your brother Aemond, who was just under the age of being allowed to participate himself, watching on as knight after knight gets knocked off their horse. Analysing and talking on and on about what they could have done better, while your eyes solely rested on one knight, sitting on his horse waiting for his turn to most assuredly destroy his opponent. Your knight, as you called him in the secrecy of hidden places in the gardens, empty hallways around the keep and your chambers in the dead of night.

When it is Criston Cole's turn to compete against some knight from the Reach, whose name went in one ear and out the other almost immediately, he rides up to the stands. As his horse comes to a stand, his helmet finds its way under his arm and those dark eyes search for your own.

With a poorly concealed wide smile you lean over the railing. "Ser Criston."

His eyes light up with the way his name sounds falling from your lips and his own lips split into a smile, nodding to you in greeting.

“Your highness. I am sure to win this tourney. Would you do me the honour of doing so with your favour?” His voice carries over the background of excited chatter and knights barking commands at their squires.

Without hesitation you skip over to the small table to grab the ring braided from acacia blossoms to let it down the lance that is safely propped up against his side.

“Good luck, Ser.” You chirp, waiting for him to bow his head ever so lightly and then ride away to take his position. Only then you sit back down by Aemond´s side. The side eye he gives you easily goes ignored, as in the moment he opens his mouth, the horses start to race towards each other.

Of course, Criston ends up successfully knocking his opponent off his horse, having you jump up to applaud him enthusiastically. Along many other Ladies. Yet one look of his beautiful, dark eyes is enough to quell your doubts about his loyalty. It would be your chambers he would be sneaking into later.

“Have I told you how much I hate seeing you get hurt like this?” Your thumbs run over his cheeks to assess the extent of his wounds.

“You have, princess.” Criston smiles up at you, brown eyes watering as you run one of the digits over his busted lip, despite his victory he naturally had taken a few hits himself.

The heavy plates of his armour discarded and the clothes underneath unbuttoned to reveal his muscular chest.

“My apologies.” You mumble upon hearing him suck in a sharp breath.

Criston shifts ever so slightly before he lets you put the washcloth to his skin again, wandering down steadily. When you reach his chest, the backs of your noses brush against each other ever so slightly. Your breath catches in your throat and almost reflexively Criston's fingers twitch against your thigh.

"How are you feeling?" You mumble, still fully concentrated on cleaning his wounds.

"I feel quite alright, now that I have you all to myself." Criston looks at you, the glimpse of something sparkling in his eyes.

"My attention will always be on you only, my sweet knight. My affections will only ever belong to you." You put down the cloth you had used to clean him up and run your hands through his hair, before kissing his forehead.

After that you barely separate until your foreheads rest against each other, noses rubbing against each other playfully, before Criston´s lips find their way onto yours. They lap at each other in tender, languid motions while eager hands run over clothed bodies they had explored a multitude of times before. Still, even if you knew each other’s bodies like the back of your own hand, you would never grow tired of it. In all this time the butterflies never calmed.

In the blink of an eye Criston joins you on the bed, straddling your hips and pushing you onto your back. The world spins around the two of you from the abruptness of the motion, as the rough pad of a thumb traces your jaw line first, before running over your lower lip.

Instinctively your legs wrap around Criston´s hips. Before your lips can seal in another kiss though, you roll the two of you around, to comfortably kneel above the knight with a triumphant teasing smile.

“You have done enough already. Let me reward you for your win.” You whisper against his neck.

The tip of your tongue traces a line down the middle of his chest and abs to the hem of his pants.

On the bed Criston propped himself up on his elbows to look at you better, his breath hitching as you teased just under the material.

“As you wish, princess.” He breathed, hiding a half smile, by biting his lower lip.

You follow this up by pulling his pants and breeches down to his ankles to set the tan hardness free from its confines. The same action makes your mouth water at the thought of what was to follow alone already.

In a matter of moments, you gently take the base of his cock into one hand to lick up the length of the vein on its underside. When the wet muscle reaches the tip, your lips wrap around it eagerly, teasing the weeping slit. Underneath the hand resting on his strong thigh, the tired muscles begin to shake from the teasing actions.

“Princess…” Criston's shuddering voice sounds through the room.

His dark eyes, though half closed, are trained as you give his cock an experimental suck. Taking it in just a bit deeper. As an immediate reaction you can see from the corner of your eyes how the knight’s hands grip the sheets a bit tighter. With a happy sigh at the reaction, you set a comfortable pace. His hips meet your mouth, thrusting up with trembling legs.

After a while his thrusts become harsher, hitting the back of your throat now to elicit the most enticing moans mixed with quiet gagging sounds he had heard from you.

Amid trying to concentrate on breathing through your nose and the view of him vanishing under a veil of tears, the hand on his thigh wanders upwards. Immediately his body trembling turned into a full-on shaking. Your hand barely cups his stones, yet the touch pulls a groan from him, that has the juices from between your legs dripping down your own thighs. The sound is more rousing than anything you had ever heard before. You gently roll them in your palm and the knees on either side of your shoulders tighten abruptly and Criston´s hips push off the bed and into your mouth on their own volition.

“So good… I don´t think I am able to hold back much longer.” The cries of pleasure from his lips grow louder, uncaring of who outside the door might hear them.

The tip of the knight’s length slips past the back of your mouth and into your throat to make you gag. The wet sound fills the room for a moment followed by sputtering and panting, as you desperately gasp for air. At the same time, you never stopped pumping his hard cock.

The quick motions and have his body shaking uncontrollably, even more so when you put your lips to his big sack, placing gentle, wet kisses onto it and sucking it into your mouth. The two of you moan in unison. The vibrations again send shocks through Criston’s body, his eyes rolling back into his head and arms underneath going limp, unable to hold him up any longer.

“Please, princess.” The begging whimpers get repeated like a prayer.

You barely manage to separate long enough from laving affection onto his lower body to answer. “Please what, my sweet knight?”

“I'm so close." Is the desperate, needy whine you get to hear in turn. “Please, I want to finish.”

It's truly adorable how he still asks for permission to let his climax overcome him. Hips trying to hold back from trusting into your hand until you answered his pleads, swollen lips hanging open and a sheen of sweat coating his face.

“Go on then. Paint my face with your seed.” You encourage him, before going back to pay attention to his stones. Your tongue flicks out to play with them, while your hand tugs on the knight’s hardness just a bit faster. The other hand, which rubs circles into his inner thigh again, wanders up just far enough to let one finger put the lightest amount of pressure on the point right behind the sack. The reaction it earns in return is all the bigger.

Criston´s hands fist into the sheets and the groan that breaks free from tightly pressed together lips has you praying that no one would storm into the chambers while Criston does as you have told him. Painting your face with his seed, making you look like one of the women serving in the pillow houses in flea bottom. The ones Aegon would talk about, whenever he wished to upset either you or one of your siblings.

And in the moment, there exists no more beautiful sight in the entire world to your secret lover. You continue pumping his cock until he has nothing more to give and the whimpers from above have turned even more raw and high pitched. For a moment after that you sit back on your haunches to just revel in the glow that shines from Criston after his climax. One finger collects the seed on your face to get it into your mouth.

After that moment of respite, the washcloth is picked right back up and wet again. This time to wipe your face first and the knight's privates afterwards.

But the second you crawl onto the mattress the both of you know that there is not much time left to cuddle. Outside the sun started to set, colouring the sky in all kinds of beautiful shades of red and orange. Alerting you that you would be expected at a dinner in your mother's chambers and Criston needed to go back on post. Perhaps you had taken a bit too long to take care of his wounds, but when your knight’s lips graze yours, his chest still heaving underneath your hand, you can't find it in you to care about any of that. Not as long as he would be lying there with you.

“I do not know what I have done to deserve you, princess. You are too good to me.” He rasps against your lips, noses brushing against each other to make the moment more intimate, as your hands wander over the other´s sides and arms.

“You deserve only the best. I hope you know that.” You answer in a raw voice.

[greenwitchcrafts]

October 2024 Witch Guide

New Moon: October 2nd

First Quarter: October 10th

Full moon: October 17th

Last Quarter: October 24th

Sabbats: Samhain- October 31st-November 1st

October Hunter's Moon

Also known as: Blood Moon, Drying Rice Moon, Falling leaf Moon, Freezing Moon, Harvest Moon, Migration Moon, Moon of the Changing Season, Sanguine Moon,, Shedding Moon, Ten Colds Moon, Winterfelleth & Windermanoth

Element: Air

Zodiac: Libra & Scorpio

Nature spirts: Frost Faeries & Plant Faeries

Deities: Apollo, Astarte, Belili, Cernunnos, Demeter, Hathor, Herne, Horned God, Ishtar, Lakshmi & Mercury

Animals: Elephant, jackal, ram, scorpion & stag

Birds: Crow, heron & robin

Trees: Acacia,apple, cypress & yew

Herbs: Angelica, burdock, catnip, pennyroyal, sweet Annie, thyme & uva ursi

Flowers: Apple blossom, calendula, cosmos & marigold

Scents: Apple blossom, cherry & strawberry

Stones: Amethyst, beryl, cat's eye, chrysoberyl, citrine, obsidian, opal, sapphire, tourmaline & turquoise

Colors: Black, blue, dark blue, blue-green & purple

Issues, intentions & powers: Cooperation, darkness, divination, healing & hope

Energy: Artistic works, creativity, harmony, inner cleansing, justice, karma, legal matters, mental stimulation, partnerships, reincarnation & uncovering mysteries or secrets

The Harvest Moon is the full Moon that occurs nearest to the autumnal equinox date (September 22, 2024). This means that either September or October’s full Moon may take on the name “Harvest Moon” instead of its traditional name. Similarly, the Hunter’s Moon is the first full Moon to follow the Harvest Moon, meaning it can occur in either October or November.

The Harvest Moon & the Hunter’s Moon are unique in that they are not directly related to this folklore or restricted to a single month. Instead, they are tied to an astronomical event: the autumnal equinox!

• October’s full Hunter Moon orbits closer to Earth than any of the other full Moons this year, making one of the four supermoons of 2024!  As the Moon drifts over the horizon around sunset, it may appear larger & more orange—how perfect for the fall season!

It is believed that this name originates from the fact that it was a signal for hunters to prepare for the upcoming cold winter by going hunting. This is because animals were beginning to fatten up in preparation for the winter season. Moreover, since fields had recently been cleared out under the Harvest Moon, hunters could easily spot deer & other animals that had come out to search for remaining scraps. Additionally, foxes & wolves would also come out to prey on these animals.

Samhain

Known as: Ancestor's night, Feast of Apples, Feast of Sam-fuim, Feast of Souls, Feast of the Dead, Geimhreadh, Hallowmass, Martinmass, Old Hallowmass, Pagan New Year, Samana, Samhuinn, Samonios & Shadowfest

Season: Autumn

Element: Water

Symbols: Apples, bats, besom, black cats, cauldrons, ghosts, gourds, jack-o-lanterns, pumpkins, scarecrows & witches

Colors: Black, gold, orange, silver & white

Oils/Incense: Basil, cloves, copal, frankincense, gum mastic, heather, heliotrope, mint, myrrh & nutmeg

Animals: Bat, bear, boar, cat, cattle & dog

Stones: Amber, anatase, black calcite, black obsidian, black tourmaline, bras, carnelian, clear quartz, diamond, garnet, gold, granite, hematite, iron, jet, marble, onyx, pearl, pyrite, ruby, sandstone, sardonyx, smokey quartz, steel & tektite

Food: Apples, ale, beef, cider, corn, nuts, fruit, garlic, gourds, grains, hazelnuts, herbal teas, mushroom, nettle, nuts, pears, pomegranates, pork, poultry, pumpkin pie, sunflower seeds, thistle, turnips & wine (mulled)

Herbs/Plants: Acorn, allspice, angelica, besom, catnip, corn, deadly nightshades, dittany of Crete, fumitory, garlic, mandrake, mugwort, mullein, oak leaves, patchouli, reed, rosemary, rue, sage, straw, tarragon, thistle & wormwood

Flowers:  Calendula, chrysanthemum & heather

Trees: Apple, beech, buckthorn, hazel, pine, locust, pomegranate, willow, witch hazel, yellow cedar & yew

Magical: Faeries

Goddesses: Al-Lat, Baba Yaga, Badb, Bast, Bebhionn, Bronach, Brunhilde, Cailleach, Carlin, Cassandra, Cerridwen, Copper Woman, Crobh Dearg, Devanyani, Dolya, Edda, Elli, Eris, Erishkigal, Fortuna, Frau Holde, Hecate, Hel, Mania, The Morrigan, Nemisis & Nicneven

Gods: Arawn, Baron Samede, Chronus,The Dagda, Dis, Hades, Nefertum, Osiris, Pluto, Woden & Xocatl

Spellwork: Divination, fire magick, night magick, shape-shifting, spirit calling & water magick

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Crossroads, darkness, death, divination, honor, introspection, otherworldly/underworld, release, visions & wisdom

Activities:

•Dedicate an altar to loved ones who have passed

• Boil a simmer pot to cleanse your space

• Have a silent dinner

• Light a candle for your loved ones & yourself

• Decorate your house and/or altar

• Release negative energy & cleanse yourself with a ritual bath

• Pull tarot cards to see what may be in store for you ahead

• Cleanse, clean & de-clutter your space

• Host or attend a bonfire

• Leave offerings for the Sídhe

• Journal & reflect on your accomplishments, challenges & everything you did this year

•Go on a nature walk

• Learn a new form of divination

• Have a bonfire with your friends and/or family

• Carve pumpkins, turnips or apples

• Express yourself creatively through art, music, ect

• Visit a cemetery & help clean off areas that need it or to visit a family member/ ancestor & leave an offering

• Hold a seance

• Bake spooky treats & bread as offerings

• Refresh your protection magicks, sigils & rituals

Samhain is about halfway between the autumnal equinox & winter solstice. It is one of the four Gaelic seasonal festivals along with Imbolc, Beltane, & Lughnasa. Historically it was widely observed throughout Ireland, Scotland, & the Isle of Man. 

Samhain is believed to have��Celtic pagan origins &  some Neolithic passage tombs in Great Britain & Ireland are aligned with the sunrise at the time of Samhain. It is mentioned in the earliest Irish literature, from the 9th century & is associated with many important events in Irish mythology.

The early literature says great gatherings & feasts marked Samhain when the ancient burial mounds were open, which were seen as portals to the Otherworld. Some of the literature also associates Samhain with bonfires & sacrifices.

• According to Irish mythology, Samhain (like Beltane) was a time when the 'doorways' to the Otherworld opened, allowing supernatural beings and the souls of the dead to come into our world; while Beltane was a summer festival for the living, Samhain "was essentially a festival for the dead".

•The festival was not recorded in detail until the early modern era. It was when cattle were brought down from the summer pastures & livestock were slaughtered. Special bonfires were lit, which were deemed to have protective & cleansing powers.

At Samhain, the aos sí were appeased with offerings of food & drink to ensure the people & livestock survived the winter. The souls of dead kin were also thought to revisit their homes seeking hospitality & a place was set at the table for them during a meal. Divination was also a big part of the festival & often involved nuts & apples.

Mumming & guising were part of the festival from at least the early modern era, whereby people went door-to-door in costume, reciting verses in exchange for food. The costumes may have been a way of imitating & disguising oneself from the aos sí. 

• In the late 19th century, John Rhys and James Frazer suggested it had been the "Celtic New Year", but that is disputed.

Some believe it is the time of The Goddess' mourning the death of The God until his rebirth at Yule. The Goddess' sadness can be seen in the shortening, darkening days & the arrival or cold weather.

Related festivals:

• Halloween( October 31st)-

In popular culture, the day has become a celebration of horror, being associated with the macabre and supernatural.

•One theory holds that many Halloween traditions were influenced by Celtic harvest festivals, particularly the Gaelic festival Samhain, which are believed to have pagan roots. Some go further & suggest that Samhain may have been Christianized as All Hallow's Day, along with its eve, by the early Church. Other academics believe Halloween began solely as a Christian holiday, being the vigil of All Hallow's Day.

Popular Halloween activities include trick-or-treating (or the related guising & ghouling), attending Halloween costume parties, carving pumpkins or turnips into jack-o'-lanterns, lighting bonfires, apple bobbing, divination games, playing pranks, visiting haunted attractions, telling scary stories, & watching horror or Halloween-themed films

• Day of the Dead(November 1st-2nd)-

 el Día de Muertos or el Día de los Muertos

The multi-day holiday involves family & friends gathering to pay respects & to remember friends & family members who have died. These celebrations can take a humorous tone, as celebrants remember amusing events & anecdotes about the departed. It is widely observed in Mexico, where it largely developed, and is also observed in other places, especially by people of Mexican heritage.

•The observance falls during the Christian period of Allhallowtide.

Traditions connected with the holiday include honoring the deceased using calaveras & marigold flowers known as cempazúchitl, building home altars called ofrendas with the favorite foods & beverages of the departed & visiting graves with these items as gifts for the deceased.

 The celebration is not solely focused on the dead, as it is also common to give gifts to friends such as candy sugar skulls, to share traditional pan de muerto with family & friends, & to write light-hearted & often irreverent verses in the form of mock epitaphs dedicated to living friends & acquaintances, a literary form known as calaveras literarias.

 Some argue that there are Indigenous Mexican or ancient Aztec influences that account for the custom & it has become a way to remember those forebears of Mexican culture.

• All Saint's Day(November 1st)- 

Also known as All Hallows' Day or the Feast of All Saints is a Christian solemnity celebrated in honour of all the saints of the Church, whether they are known or unknown.

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

[fatehbaz]

Despite its green image, Ireland has surprisingly little forest. [...] [M]ore than 80% of the island of Ireland was [once] covered in trees. [...] [O]f that 11% of the Republic of Ireland that is [now] forested, the vast majority (9% of the country) is planted with [non-native] spruces like the Sitka spruce [in commercial plantations], a fast growing conifer originally from Alaska which can be harvested after just 15 years. Just 2% of Ireland is covered with native broadleaf trees.

Text by: Martha O’Hagan Luff. “Ireland has lost almost all of its native forests - here’s how to bring them back.” The Conversation. 24 February 2023. [Emphasis added.]

---

[I]ndustrial [...] oil palm plantations [...] have proliferated in tropical regions in many parts of the world, often built at the expense of mangrove and humid forest lands, with the aim to transform them from 'worthless swamp' to agro-industrial complexes [...]. Another clear case [...] comes from the southernmost area in the Colombian Pacific [...]. Here, since the early 1980s, the forest has been destroyed and communities displaced to give way to oil palm plantations. Inexistent in the 1970s, by the mid-1990s they had expanded to over 30,000 hectares. The monotony of the plantation - row after row of palm as far as you can see, a green desert of sorts - replaced the diverse, heterogenous and entangled world of forest and communities.

Text by: Arturo Escobar. "Thinking-Feeling with the Earth: Territorial Struggles and the Ontological Dimension of the Epistemologies of the South." Revista de Antropologia Iberoamericana Volume 11 Issue 1. 2016. [Emphasis added.]

---

But efforts to increase global tree cover to limit climate change have skewed towards erecting plantations of fast-growing trees [...] [because] planting trees can demonstrate results a lot quicker than natural forest restoration. [...] [But] ill-advised tree planting can unleash invasive species [...]. [In India] [t]o maximize how much timber these forests yielded, British foresters planted pines from Europe and North America in extensive plantations in the Himalayan region [...] and introduced acacia trees from Australia [...]. One of these species, wattle (Acacia mearnsii) [...] was planted in [...] the Western Ghats. This area is what scientists all a biodiversity hotspot – a globally rare ecosystem replete with species. Wattle has since become invasive and taken over much of the region’s mountainous grasslands. Similarly, pine has spread over much of the Himalayas and displaced native oak trees while teak has replaced sal, a native hardwood, in central India. Both oak and sal are valued for [...] fertiliser, medicine and oil. Their loss [...] impoverished many [local and Indigenous people]. [...]

India’s national forest policy [...] aims for trees on 33% of the country’s area. Schemes under this policy include plantations consisting of a single species such as eucalyptus or bamboo which grow fast and can increase tree cover quickly, demonstrating success according to this dubious measure. Sometimes these trees are planted in grasslands and other ecosystems where tree cover is naturally low. [...] The success of forest restoration efforts cannot be measured by tree cover alone. The Indian government’s definition of “forest” still encompasses plantations of a single tree species, orchards and even bamboo, which actually belongs to the grass family. This means that biennial forest surveys cannot quantify how much natural forest has been restored, or convey the consequences of displacing native trees with competitive plantation species or identify if these exotic trees have invaded natural grasslands which have then been falsely recorded as restored forests. [...] Planting trees does not necessarily mean a forest is being restored. And reviving ecosystems in which trees are scarce is important too.

Text by: Dhanapal Govindarajulu. "India was a tree planting laboratory for 200 years - here are the results." The Conversation. 10 August 2023. [Emphasis added.]

---

Nations and companies are competing to appropriate the last piece of available “untapped” forest that can provide the most amount of “environmental services.” [...] When British Empire forestry was first established as a disciplinary practice in India, [...] it proscribed private interests and initiated a new system of forest management based on a logic of utilitarian [extraction] [...]. Rather than the actual survival of plants or animals, the goal of this forestry was focused on preventing the exhaustion of resource extraction. [...]

Text by: Daniel Fernandez and Alon Schwabe. "The Offsetted." e-flux Architecture (Positions). November 2013. [Emphasis added.]

---

At first glance, the statistics tell a hopeful story: Chile’s forests are expanding. […] On the ground, however, a different scene plays out: monocultures have replaced diverse natural forests [...]. At the crux of these [...] narratives is the definition of a single word: “forest.” [...] Pinochet’s wave of [...] [laws] included Forest Ordinance 701, passed in 1974, which subsidized the expansion of tree plantations [...] and gave the National Forestry Corporation control of Mapuche lands. This law set in motion an enormous expansion in fiber-farms, which are vast expanses of monoculture plantations Pinus radiata and Eucalyptus species grown for paper manufacturing and timber. [T]hese new plantations replaced native forests […]. According to a recent study in Landscape and Urban Planning, timber plantations expanded by a factor of ten from 1975 to 2007, and now occupy 43 percent of the South-central Chilean landscape. [...] While the confusion surrounding the definition of “forest” may appear to be an issue of semantics, Dr. Francis Putz [...] warns otherwise in a recent review published in Biotropica. […] Monoculture plantations are optimized for a single product, whereas native forests offer [...] water regulation, hosting biodiversity, and building soil fertility. [...][A]ccording to Putz, the distinction between plantations and native forests needs to be made clear. “[...] [A]nd the point that plantations are NOT forests needs to be made repeatedly [...]."

Text by: Julian Moll-Rocek. “When forests aren’t really forests: the high cost of Chile’s tree plantations.” Mongabay. 18 August 2014. [Emphasis added.]

[mithrilhearts]

Lovely commission done by @dyemberrr for the final chapter of my long-fic, May Your Forge Burn Bright! I'm still over the moon at how detailed and beautiful this is, right down to those yellow acacia flowers 💛🌸 How did they get to this point? Guess you'll have to read to find out!

Thorin labors as a blacksmith within the world of men to support his family and the other displaced dwarves of Erebor. Change comes to his monotonous routine when the smithy he works in unexpectedly comes under a hobbit’s management.

[ariseur]

hi!! could i request ignis with a reader who's super flirty? i just think iggy is so attractive and want to know how you think he'd react to being told that lol

the crickets around you chirped in tune with the inner melody playing in your head, a soft song muttered under your breath and a tap of your fingers left you satisfied while you watched ignis work. his back was facing you; his sleek, dark grey button-up hugging on him while he made another dish. after the day you guys had, he couldn’t help but make some more food per your request— especially since gladio and you had gathered some herbs nearby. observing the man in front of you some more, you stared at him with no shame. after all, it wasn’t everyday that ignis didn’t gel his hair.

the brown color of his hair now parted with an acacia orange as it accentuated even the tiniest strands of hair. pieces of it covered the back of his neck and what you presumed was the front of his face. silently, you prayed for some water to come his way so you’d see more of this side of him. he looked so content, ignis always did when he was cooking.

you couldn’t stop the next words tumbling from your mouth. “have i ever told you how pretty you look with your hair like that?” even through the distant crackling of the camp fire and the chattering of gladio and prompto talking about only astrals know what, your voice cleared its own pathway throughout the faint noises and wiggled its way into ignis’ head, hoping his soon heating cheeks would be covered with an excuse of the fire.

he still faced away from you, hand languidly stirring the pot in which contained a stew from whatever ingredients were able to be gathered in the seas surrounding the galdin quay, provided to you guys by noctis’ skilled fishing. ignis cleared his throat, swallowing thickly before responding, “thank you, although i wouldn’t have thought that ‘pretty’ was the right word to describe a man such as myself.”

getting up to help him clean up, you watched him out of the corner of your eye; his glasses glinting with the warm glow of the nearby fire. you hummed mindlessly, almost dismissing his claim. “nonsense, anybody can be labeled as pretty.” and to that, he chuckled—brushing off his pink ears. “i suppose.”

letting out a giggle, you made ignis’ heart flutter once more. his head turned towards you, an amused smile resting on his face. he admired the way the auburn flames lit up your face as it highlighted your features; he sunk in the way your eyes crinkled when you beamed, along with the way your shoulders shook with your soft laughter. looking back at him, you pointed at his face. you paused a bit, turning your attention back to cleaning the cutting boards and cutlery which had been used by the brute of food known as noctis. always such a messy eater, you recalled. even gladio ate cleaner than noct did.

blinking up at him, you huffed again, “c’mon iggy, you know it. you’re even heating up— at the truth, might i add.”

hearing the familiar nickname laced with your sweet tone of voice fall from your lips made his heart beat a little louder— ( even if he’s heard it plenty of times before from his friends, hearing it from you felt different. almost strange. )

he scoffed amusedly. “it’s quite hot out here if you haven’t noticed.” blaming his pink cheeks on the vennaugh haven you lot had made yourself comfortable in, he brushed off your comments as you rolled your eyes at him with a mumbled, “whatever you say, iggy.”

“don’t start with that now.”

“what? what’d i do this time?” you grinned, tilted your head at him with a tone intertwined with feigned coyness. he sighed, shaking his head. “oh,” you said, dragging out the vowel perhaps longer than you needed to, “you just don’t wanna give into my super charming character. i get it.” putting your hands up in a defensive manner, you pushed more. he groaned, eyes still focused on the pot. “yes, quite the charmer.”

you scoffed dramatically, “why did that sound sarcastic?” he hummed in denial, shaking his head at your silly questions. “admit it,” you said, “you’re just salty i made you blush.”

“you did not.”

“i did, too.”

and before you could keep going on with this foolish game of who’ll crack first, a voice cleared their throat behind you. the two of you turned your heads only to see noctis with a hand on his hip and cocked head. ignis and you exchanged a glance as you both paused your movements. noctis grinned lazily as he teased, “what’re you guys talking about?”

[aquasarsstuff]

Arrange Marriage ft. Lilia Vanrouge x gn!Reader part 4

Tags: Not for people who hates sweets, not proofread, twisted wonderland, fan fiction

Summary: You sneak away with Lilia, and you find what he has in store for you.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Masterlist

---

ʻʻI have eaten more than I need for today, Lilia,ʼʼ you tried to stop him from going to every stall he sees you stared for a second too long. In truth, you were more worried of draining his pockets than actually gaining weight.

ʻʻWith how harsh the weather is today; you might faint in this heat. I'll go get refreshments for us. There's a small queue, but the wait will be worth it. Let's go, before the line gets longer,ʼʼ he pulls your hand. This time, all your reasoning fell on deaf ears. You flap your hand over face. The roof of the stall only provided shade to the ones in in front. You looked down to see Lilia basking under your shade, using his short stature to see his advantage.

ʻʻDon't you feel stuffy with that hood on?ʼʼ you were already drowning in your sweat under the hood. It was only then when Lilia took a glance up to you that your realized he was blessed.

ʻ��Not only a face of a baby but also has a skin like one,ʼʼ you murmured under your breath.

"Hm?"

Curse whoever gave him sharp senses.

ʻʻI'll leave the decision of choosing the flavor to you,ʼʼ you said first before he can even ask.

ʻʻHow about this one? It's limited for this season, and the ice would help us cool off. Not to mention, the fruits added here are sweet and nutritious.ʼʼ

ʻʻSure, it sounds nice.ʼʼ

Lilia nodded and began talking to the vendor. As you both waited for your orders to be served, you find every crunch of ice satisfying as it's crushed the size of a salt. It was followed by a sweet smell that the fruits let out with every slice.

Your eyes almost shone with ebullience when you were handed the refreshment. You scooped a small piece out of the plastic cup. ʻʻMy expectations weren't that high... but I could now say that he has the skills to work for a rich family. I would definitely come back here. Thanks, Lilia. This is good.ʼʼ

ʻʻDid I just hear that right?ʼʼ

ʻʻWhat right?ʼʼ

ʻʻWas that a ʻthank youʼ I just heard from your lips? I thought I've just ascended and heard the angels singing at me,ʼʼ his lidded eyes bore into you while he takes a bite of his own dessert. You just raised one of your brows at him and turned to the vendor to hand him two silver taels.

ʻʻI was the the one who ask you out; I'm the one supposed to pay,ʼʼ he protested when the vendor took your payment..

ʻʻYou have quite the persistent lover. Let him have this one. Otherwise, you'll have to deal with his nonsense the whole day,ʼʼ the old man laughs and gave you back the money. Lilia happily pulled out a gold tael in his pocket and gave it to the vendor while you still in a daze from embarrassment.

ʻʻConsider the rest as a thanks for making my sweetcheeks satisfied,ʼʼ he placed his index finger on his lips. Lilia then tugged you out of your thoughts before the old man can protest with the large sum he bestowed upon him. He took your hand boldly and wrapped it around his.

ʻʻI can't eat with one hand, Lilia,ʼʼ you squirmed out of his hold, but his deft fingers were quick to hold your palms against his.

ʻʻNo can do, sweetcheeks!ʼʼ

ʻʻThe ice won't last long under this weather. I don't want to munch on a puddle of water. ʼʼ

He leads you to an open space. There were a few acacias trees planted across the area, providing shade to the grassy land below. He plopped into the ground, patting the space beside him and beckoning you to sit there.

ʻʻI'm not sitting on soil.ʼʼ

ʻʻHow about this?ʼʼ he began to unclasp his hood.

ʻʻDon't. You'll get your robes dirty,ʼʼ you walked to the spot he invited you at and laid your back onto the rough bark of the tree, finally getting to enjoy your dessert.

Lilia glanced at you and then above you. He grinned when an idea popped in his head. He asked you to hold his food, and you didn't miss how his hands lingered on yours far longer. A few seconds later, you yelped.

The culprit laughed at you as your feet dangled below the soft grass.

ʻʻLilia! Let me down!ʼʼ you glared at him, unable to do anything with both of your hands occupied.

ʻʻNow now. Don't screech too loud, you might disrupt the sleep of our little hosts,ʼʼ he hoisted you up to a branch. When you were able to balance, Lilia climbed the tree to join you. You didn't mind the company, preferring this way to eat your dessert.

You almost tried to take a bite out of your spoon when you realized the one you're holding was different from what was in front of you. Lilia was looking at you expectantly.

ʻʻYou've already used that, Lilia.ʼʼ

ʻʻI have no infectious diseases currently or,ʼʼ he leaned closer to you. ʻʻYou're worried that I will be able to read your thoughts. This is your chance to kiss me,ʼʼ he closes his eyes and maneuvered his pouting lips to your face. Without thinking, you shoved the spoon he offered earlier to his throat.

ʻʻI'm engaged.ʼʼ

ʻʻEven better. You'll make your dearest fiancé be happy if you practice with me. Besides, the more taboo, the sweeter it is to do, don't you think?ʼʼ

ʻʻNo.ʼʼ

His brows furrowed at your rejection. He exaggeratedly pursued out his lips that it was almost comical. A small laugh escaped you.

---

A/N: Sorry if this one took longer. I didn't like the first scene I made in my draft, so I rewrite it again, but it just didn't work out, so I removed it in my final output. I'm glad I did because I feel much better sharing this one with you guys. This series will probably go longer than I intended. I'm also a reader, so I know the feeling of reading something good, only for it to be cut short 😭 I hope you like this chapter as I do 🤭❤️. Enjoy reading!

[terrifictoons-art]

“Whatever the weather, I’ve got you under my skin…”

*SHARP INHALE* BROPPY AS JACK AND MISS ACACIA FROM JACK AND THE CUCKOO-CLOCK HEART 🗣️🗣️‼️‼️🔥🔥 i can never recommend this movie enough, i might redraw a couple more scenes~👉👈☺️

[canisalbus]

Just wanted to tell you that your recent art of Machete looking after Vasco while he's sick reminded me of Nights at the Villa by Gogol. Only a small fragment of it survived, probably because it's straight up author's diary about falling in love for the first time with a man who is already dying. It's such a beautiful little piece and your art really reminded me of it's vibes. Anyway, I'm mentally ill about russian literature and I love your dogs <3

The longing and lamenting quite something, poor guy.

It's not very long so I'm just going to put the whole thing under the cut ->

They were sweet and tormenting, those sleepless nights. He sat, ill, in the armchair. I was with him. Sleep dared not touch my eyes. Silently and involuntarily, it seems, it respected the sanctity of my vigil. Its was so sweet to sit near him, to look at him. For two nights already we have been saying "thou" to each other. How much closer he has become to me since then! He sat there just as before, meek, quiet, and resigned. Good God! With what joy, with what happiness I would have taken his illness upon myself! And if my death could restore him to health, with what readiness I would have rushed toward it!

-

I did not stay with him last night. I had finally decided to stay home and sleep. Oh, how base, how vile that night and my despicable sleep were! I slept poorly, even though I had been without sleep for almost a week. I was tormented by the thought of him. I kept imagining him, imploring and reproachful. I saw him with the eyes of my soul. I hastened to come early to him and felt like a criminal as I went. From his bed he saw me. He smiled with his usual angel's smile. He offered his hand. He pressed mine lovingly.

"Traitor." he said, "You betrayed me." "My angel," I said, "Forgive me. I myself suffered with your suffering. I was in torment all night. My rest brought me no repose. Forgive me!" My meek one! He pressed my hand. How fully rewarded I was for the suffering that the stupidly spent night had brought me!

"My head is weary," he said. I began to fan him with a laurel branch. "Ah, how fresh and good," he said. His words were then… what were they? What would I have not given, what earthly goods, those despicable, those vile, those disgusting goods… no, they are not worth mentioning. You into whose hands will fall -if they will fall- those incoherent, fleebe lines, pallid expressions of my emotions, you will understand me. Otherwise they will not fall into your hands. You will understand how repulsive the entire heap of treasures and honors is that attracts those wooden dolls which are called people. Oh, with what joy, with what anger I could have trampled underfoot and squashed everything that is bestowed by the mighty scepter of the Tsar of the North, if I only knew that this would buy a smile that indicated the slightest relief in his face.

"Why did you prepare such a bad month of May for me?" He said to me, awakening in his armchair and hearing the wind beyond the window-panes that wafted the aroma of the blossoming wild jasmine and white acacia, which mingled with the whirling rose petals.

-

At ten o'clock I went down to see him. I had left him there hours before to get some rest, to prepare [something] to him, to afford him some variety, so my arrival would give him more pleasure. I went down to him at ten o'clock. He had been alone for more than one hour. His visitors had long since left. The dejection of boredom showed on his face. He saw me. Waved his hand slightly.

"My savior." He said to me. They still sound in my ears, those words. "My angel! Did you miss me?" "Oh, how I missed you." He replied. I kissed him on the shoulder. He offered his cheek. We kissed; he was still pressing my hand.

He did not like going to bed and hardly ever did. He preferred his armchair and the sitting position. That night the doctor ordered him to rest. He stood up reluctantly and, leaning on my shoulder, moved to his bed. My darling! He weary glance, his brightly colored jacket, his slow steps- I can see it all, it is all before my eyes. He whispered in my ear, leaning on my shoulder and glancing at the bed: "Now I'm a ruined man."

"We will remain in bed for only half an hour," I said to him, "and then we'll go back to your armchair".

I watched you, my precious, tender flower! All the time when you were sleeping or merely dozing in you bed or armchair, I followed your movements and your moments, bound to you by some incomprehensible force.

How strangely new my life was then and, at the same time, I discerned in it a repetition of something distant, something that once actually was. But it seems hard to give an idea of it: there returned to me a fresh, fleeting fragment of my youth, that time when a youthful soul seeks fraternal friendship with those of one's age, a decidedly juvenile friendship, full of sweet, almost infantile trifles and mutual show of tokens of tender attachment; the time when it is sweet to gaze into each other's eyes, when your entire being is ready to offer sacrifices, which are usually not even necessary. And all those feelings, sweet, youthful, fresh - alas! Inhabitants of a vanishing world - all these feelings returned to me. Good Lord! What for? I watched you, my precious, tender flower. Did this fresh breath of youth waft upon me only so that I might suddenly and irrevocably sink into even greater and more deadening coldness of feelings, so that I might become all at once older by a decade, so that I might see my vanishing life with even greater despair and hopelessness? Thus does a dying fire send its flames up into the air, so that it might illuminate with its flickering the somber walls and then disappear forever.

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

can you please write a fanfic of lyra meeting acacia/grayson meeting her parents🫶

ofc!! i kind of wanted to do a little twist with this and instead have it be graysons brothers meeting lyra’s family bc i feel like i’ve been writing about acacia gigi and sav+ grayson and lyra a lot lately and wanted to switch it up a bit 😭😭 thanks so much for the request tho!!

also, on a side note, in the deleted scenes of tgg, lyra mentions having MULTIPLE brothers, so in this fic she’s going to have two little brothers, one being 9, and one being 4 going on 5, aka the one mentioned in the actual book. the 4 year olds name is gabriel, and the 5 year olds name is lucas. yes ik they’re basic but i thought of them quickly so don’t judge me pls 😢

synopsis: it’s meeting the family time, and lyra’s family + graysons brothers get together for a dinner. lyra’s family seems to be getting along well with the 4, except for just one person… lyra’s dad. 😬😬

Meeting the Family - lyra x grayson

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LYRA:

I paced outside my parents’ bedroom as I waited for them to get ready. In 5 minutes, they were supposed to go to Hawthorne House to have their first official family dinner. In 5 minutes, my parents were going to officially meet Grayson. My insides were in a twisted knot, and I thought I might explode right then and there if I hadn’t felt a tug on my skirt. Looking down, I felt more relaxed once mygaze met the brown eyed boy’s.

“Catty,” Gabriel, my 4-soon-to-be-5 year old brother, had decided at 2 that instead of calling me Lyra, Catty, short for Catalina, was a much better nickname.

“Catty.” He repeated with a furrow of his brow once his first call had been ignored.

“Sorry, what is it Gabe?” I asked him, patting his gelled hair that had taken forever to do as he didn’t stop complaining once.

“Can we play legos? Mommy and Dad aren’t ready yet, and-“

“Mommy and Dad are right here, baby. We can go now.” My mother’s voice cuts in, a bright smile on her face. Both my mom and dad had done a good job of dressing up, and I felt a bit relieved although I knew Grayson and his brothers would never judge my parents on how they dressed either way. Strolling out of the bedroom that he and his brother shared, Lucas, my other little brother, was wearing the fanciest-but-not-too-fancy outfit a 9 year old could wear, with a pair of black sunglasses perched on his nose. He was wearing a little watch, and honestly, despite the put together look, he had never looked more adorable.

“You’re looking fancy, Lucas.” I said, a grin tingeing my voice. Lucas nodded, before grinning himself.

“Can we go now? Grayson is rich and I want to see his house.” Lucas said, immediately cutting to the point. My mom snorted as she took Lucas and Gabriel’s hand and led them to the car, mean while my Dad just bristled, mumbling “our house is nice too” as he followed them.

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As soon as our car pulled up to the front gates, I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping. I had seen it before, but damn, this house was huge. Even Lucas was shocked, whispering about how cool it was under his breath. One of the bodyguards escorted us inside, and as soon as the actual gates opened and they were in, I was met with Graysons patient smile. He was holding a bouquet of lilies, and the sight of him shaking my father’s hand as he greeted him made my heart flutter. He had opted for a suit, as usual, but it was more casual, almost as if he was finding ways to tell me that I could breathe, and that this entire get together wasn’t so fancy as I had imagined. As soon as Grayson had finished shaking hands with my parents and making introductions with my brothers, his eyes met mine, and I stepped forward, taking the bouquet out of his hands before he could properly give them to me.

“I’d prefer lilacs.” I deadpanned, tugging at the beautiful flowers with fake boredom. My mother snorted, but Grayson’s smile only grew as he took my hand in his and spoke.

“I’ll note that down. Welcome to Hawthorne House, Mr. and Mrs. Kane. Dinner will be officially ready in 30 minutes, but in that time…” He turned around and met my eyes, sending sparks of electricity through me. “How many of you guys would like a tour?”

I had seen Hawthorne House before. But due to the amount of “awesome”’s whispered by my brothers and the hushed remarks by my parents, they clearly hadn’t. It felt good knowing that at least my Dad, who had always been strict with dating, didn’t and couldn’t have anything bad to say about this house. Because good god it was nice. Finally Grayson takes my hand and leads us back to the dining room.

“Dinners completely finished now. My brothers are all in the dining room too, and they can’t wait to meet you guys.” Graysons states in a civilized manner. I could tell he was trying to impress my parents, but honestly, he didn’t have to try too hard. His money was doing all the work for him.

“I can’t wait to meet them.” My Dad replied. But knowing him, I could tell that there was something else in his tone. Something almost off. I turned to give him a look, but Grayson spoke and changed my train of thought.

“Then let me introduce them to you.”

I had obviously met Xander, Jameson, and Nash before in the game, and also afterwards, but my parents hadn’t yet.

“Hello boys.” My mother said, her tone polite. “It’s so nice to meet you three.” They all smiled at her, but Xander was the first to speak.

“Hello to you too! If you were to get a gift, not now, but at any given time, how would jewelry sound?” He replied. Jameson, and Nash both groaned, while muttering, “real discreet”, and, “seriously xander? those gifts were supposed to be a surprise.” My Mom had a surprised expression on her face as she realized they’d gotten us gifts, but I just turned my glare to Grayson. I said no gifts, I very clearly communicated with my eyes. He, however, wouldn’t meet my gaze and instead held eye contact with my mother. Very slick, I thought with a snort. My Mom was about to say something about how they didn’t have to do that or whatever other motherly card she always pulled, when my brother spoke up.

“Gifts are nice.” Lucas interrupted, as if trying to change the topic. “Anyway, Grayson, You said your brother has a lab. Can we check it out?” Gabriel, who was much more shy than his brother, nodded, clinging to me as he ducked his head right back as soon as everybody looked at him. I rolled my eyes at Lucas’ statement, well aware of where this conversation was going to go.

“Please tell me you didn’t bring your book of nightmares.” My Mom groaned, tutting at Lucas. I smirked as Grayson met my eyes with confusion.

“His science book,” I explained. “It is a huge book filled with tons of different science experiments, but the problem is, a lot of them require laboratory ovens.” I turned to Lucas, giving him a look. “Lucas is prone to thinking that our very not-meant-for-science microwaves count as a laboratory oven. He is also prone to lighting things on fire.” Lucas made a face, but Xander just grinned.

“Lighting things on fire is apart of science. And to answer your question, Lucas, yes I do have a lab, and yes, you are able to check it out after dinner.” Xander said, excitedly. Clearly though, he was not as excited as Lucas, as Lucas was wearing the biggest grin on his face. He turned to me suddenly, a question on his face, and I nodded, to which he immediately whirled around and faced Xander again.

“Thank you!” Lucas said, grinning. Nash smiled as he glanced between the boys, before speaking himself.

“You two are two sides of the same coin, you know. Lucas reminds me so much of when Xan was little.” He spoke, his eyes soft as he glanced between the boys. Grayson smiled then too, taking my hand and gentle pressing his thumb onto my wrist once his gaze meets mine. I already knew what he was trying to tell me by the expression on his face. Don’t worry, he seemed to be saying, everything is fine. I smiled back at him and he took that chance to change the conversation.

“Now,” He said, cutting into the conversation, “Shall we eat?”

The dinner was nearing its end, as most of the plates on the table were close to being finished. Everybody had been making conversation throughout the dinner, everybody except for my oddly quiet father, with my mother telling embarrassing stories about me growing up, and Gray’s brothers telling embarrassing stories about him. I giggled mischievously at Grayson once Jameson finished telling a story about how Grayson once skipped out on a “911”, a brotherly pact between the 4 that meant when somebody texted or said the numbers 911, then that meant the other brothers had to come, and had to stand in his underwear out in the cold on the side of a road. I could tell by the teasing looks that the other brothers were sending Grayson and the terrifying looks that Grayson was sending them that there was more to the story, though, and made a mental note to bug him about it whenever I got the chance. We were just finishing up eating when a woman that had been introduced to me as “Mrs. Laughlin” walked in.

“I hope you all enjoyed the dinner.” She said, with the slightest smile. We all nodded and gave praises to her delicious food, and that made her slight smile grow the smallest bit.

“Good to know. Now, Lyra and your family members, my husband is just in the other room having a drink. Would you like to meet him before dessert?” She asked us. I looked around at my Mom and Dad, before answering myself.

“We’d love to.” I said with a polite smile. My mother agreed and got up, grabbing my brother’s hands as soon as they got out of their seats too, before my father spoke.

“I will in just a moment, I just need to finish up my food.” He said in a kind tone, smiling at Mrs. Laughlin. Mrs. Laughlin gave the slightest nod in response before beckoning towards us to follow her. I slowed in suspicion, though, before casting my father the barest glance. He met my eyes, and I raised a brow at him, as if asking him what he was up to. He just smiled at me and turned his attention to his food, his eyes hard as he took another bite. My eyes met Grayson’s next, giving me a smile and dipping his head the slightest bit, his movements meant to ease my nerves. I blew out a breath before casting my father one last look, turning around, and following my family out of the dining room.

GRAYSON:

I knew what was going to happen throughout the entire dinner, and why Lyra’s father was awfully quiet. Keith Kane waited a moment or two as he stared at Lyra, Mrs. Laughlin, and the rest of them walk away to the sitting room, before turning to me, his steel blue eyes hard.

“How old are you?” He asked me. I could feel my brothers sending glances my way as they realized what was going on, but I didn’t meet their eyes once. I could handle this.

“23, sir.” I answered.

“And how old is my daughter?” I could tell by his tone that he already knew, but I held his gaze anyway and answered.

“20.”

“How many years are between you two, pray tell?”

“3, but we met when I was 22 and she was 19.”

“Are you a pervert?” Jameson snorted, but his expression quickly changed from the look that Lyra’s dad was giving him, and he morphed his expression into a neutral one. I side-eyed him, before meeting Keith’s gaze and speaking again.

“No, sir.” I answered. He held my gaze with a dangerous expression, before folding his hands together on the table, looking at them as he spoke.

“My daughter has never been much for boys. She has believed, for much of her life, that relationships were useless, as well as most boys.” His gaze met mine, slowly and methodically. “The fact that she’s with you tells me that, for whatever reason, she believes that you’re not useless.” For whatever reason. I tried my very best not to smile. Apparently, Lyra wasn’t the only person in the Kane family who didn’t pull their punches.

“Lyra, in the past, has tended to make the same useless boys cry in group projects. She knows her worth and will not stand for anything less than. She also likes you,” Keith Kane said, his eyes boring into mine. “A lot.” I swallowed. The way I felt for Lyra wasn’t as simple as simply liking someone. I loved her.

“I’m not going to demand that you stay away from my daughter or do a whole “touch her and I’ll kill you” bit because A, this isn’t the 1950’s where women can just be somebody’s property, and B, she’s gotten to the age where she doesn’t need my protection anymore. I am, however, going to ask you one final question,” He said, his dangerous stare from before turning sincere as his brows furrowed. “Do you love my daughter?” In my head, and in my heart, I knew the answer to that. More than anything. But I knew that a man like Lyra’s father would need more convincing, so that’s exactly what I did. I convinced him.

“A few years ago I was in a very bad place.” I admitted suddenly, making Keith’s brows furrow more. I could feel my brother’s surprised eyes turn to mine, but I wouldn’t meet their gazes. I would do anything for Lyra, and if getting her dad to trust me was one of those things, then I would sure as hell do it. “My grandfather, the only parental figure I ever really had, died, just after a girl that I had previously loved died as well. I was emotionally unavailable, and cruel, and a damn train wreck, and even though months later I had brushes with love, I still screwed it up because I was cold and hung up over a dead girl. By the time I was 20, I was convinced that there was nobody in this world who could love me, because I was convinced that I was unloveable. I was convinced that every painful moment, and every death of a loved one took that part of me away, until there was nothing left of me to love.” I paused when Keith’s hand brushed mine, remorse in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, son.” He said, sincere despite his words from before. I felt something unwind in my chest from Lyra’s father calling me “son”, but I brushed it off and continued talking.

“Me and Lyra met when I was 22. I had stopped feeling sorry for myself every moment of every waking day, and decided that maybe, I could actually do something for myself. Feel even when I didn’t want to. Cry even though tears were always a crime in my childhood. I could see a reflection of myself in Lyra, a piece of my soul in hers, and that’s when I knew that love didn’t have to be impossible for me.” I barely smiled, the ends of my lips ticking up by a hair. “I wanted to change for Lyra. Not just because I wanted her to love me even half as much as I loved her, but also because I didn’t want to hurt Lyra all because I was emotionally unavailable. And it became easier, too. Every time she opened up for me I knew that I wanted to open up for her too, to change the habits that I had been force-fed as a child and the way I loved as well. I was so scared that I was going to screw everything up again, because I was so in love with her that I couldn’t bear the idea of losing her, because I knew, if I lost a girl like Lyra, I would be living the rest of my life in a state of constant mourning. You don’t move on from a girl like that. You just can’t.” I was laughing now, shaking my head.

“So, in short,” Jameson said, cutting into the heart-to-heart, “Grayson took one look at Lyra and decided he wanted to change the trajectory of the rest of his life.” Nash and Xander nodded along, muttering “yeah”’s and, “that basically summed it all up”’s. Keith Kane snorted before turning his attention to me again.

“So,” He said, his eyes twinkling. “What you’re trying to say is you love her?” I did a half shrug.

“More than anything.” I replied, the answer I had meant to give him all along. Lyra’s father held my gaze, before nodding, and getting up.

“You’re a good man, Grayson. You deserve to love, and you should feel honoured knowing that you are very loved by a girl like my daughter.” He finally said, shaking my hand across the table as I stood up too. I truly smiled then, my heart full.

“I’m very aware.” I say softly. He nods again, before turning to my brothers.

“If you try involving my daughter in your hullabaloo bullshit that you were telling me about in your stories, you very likely might wake up without all 10 of your fingers.” He said calmly. Nash, Jameson, and Xander’s eyebrows shot up, and I could see that they were trying ridiculously hard not to laugh. “No standing in underwear on the side of the road. No glitter bombing her room. And,” He turned his gaze to Xander. “Absolutely no involving her in those projects of yours where you tend to lose an eyebrow or two.” Xander just beamed, not bothered by the threat.

“So you were listening!” He said, with a grin. He shrugged.

“It got too hard to tune out your ridiculous stories.” He replied. I snorted, and was about to speak before Mrs. Laughlin walked in.

“Introductions have been made.” She said matter-of-factly as she ignored the past tension of the room. “Now,” She smiled warmly at Lyra’s family walking in as well as me and my brothers, and in my head, I could picture a life where our two families could be joined together as one. “Who wants dessert?”

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while making this i saw a post saying that they wanted to see lyra’s dad call grayson “son”, and somebody sent me an ask saying they wanted a fic about lyra’s dad being overprotective so this is just me killing two birds with one stone LMFAO 😭 (tobias hawthorne who?)