#and her deep love for woodland animals

[windydrawallday]

🦡🌙🦡🌙🦡🌙.

From the creators of "Windy is obsessed with finding meaning in dark fiction" now we have "Everything can be esoteric if you manifest hard enough with its aid".

Leaving this here because I find it needed and very meaningful on a personal level for me to remember forever when I look back to this blog over the years. I'll talk more about it under the cut for the ones curious but isn't needed if you prefer to just look at my scratchy artwork (quotes are from pinterest).

WARNING: I'll ramble about my pop culture magic practices. They are VERY personal but I feel what I learned from it deserves to have a spotlight here being tied to my creativity. If any of you don't vibe and/or believe on such, I suggest moving on. Thanks!.

(PS Copy and Paste from my IG! I tend to share more of these explorations there on temporal Stories)

Some of you have seen slightly over this year my crazy exploration of what looks like an artist who started with a simple fixation to then hurl some sort of "celebrations" with candles and animal figurines. Yeah, like what the photos show hahaha. No worries, I'm fine. I'm not raising a cult or going mad by some comical eldritch revelation (I wish). (jkjkjk). In all seriousness: some of you already know but for the ones that don't, I'm a witch. Mostly the "Moon Stalker" type follows rituals related to the cycle of it. I work a bit with the four elements too, and know a tad about divination with cards, and "classic" witchy things. Tho I never delved into spellcasting and kept everything in a tidy box of the expected... until I learned the past year about Pop Culture Magic, with pagans and witches that make use of modern iconography and even reinvent the formula to tie better to their lifestyle instead of following recipes to a T. Something I found PERFECT for my eclectic way to interpret these practices. For the first time, I tried not only my own spells but created a magic partner, "Bodyguard Badger" the servitor! It will sound dummy but during half of the year, through this make-believe experience, I kept tabs on my mental health and body awareness I was so dragged when things went south economically-emotionally where I live. And I wished for some of that energy I already got attached to actually BE there for me, weaponize it to my advantage.

To embody something that would help me stand for myself when everyone out there tried to step over my existence. Or to keep in control when it was obvious things weren't on my hands, because sometimes I needed to let things be and not try to repair everything out of my jurisdiction.

This little critter reminded me of that. Or more like, reinforced on me the worth of my energy and time.

To don't hesitate to cut what was making me sick from the inside out or face certain people's attitude with the indifference they deserved for trying to press their naughty views on me.

Six months later, when I felt it accomplished its task (I endured the loss of a pet, and of my job without much fuzz but a bit of collected indignation), I gave it one last "feast" ritual and said goodbye to the servitor on the past last Full Moon. Idk if any of this makes sense but for me, it meant so much. Creating something that caters to my tastes and whims on a raw level. Something that mixes what I know with what I'm still learning. Is so exciting to know I can do this! I will miss it. But I'm sure someday I'll call it again: It's never far away from my grasp!

[nerdgal27]

A Story Behind the Painting

Home

Summary:

Part 4 of (Mikey and Me Part 3), (It Happened Again Part 2), and (Don't Want to Talk Part 1). Struggle after struggle. There comes a time when the inner demon destroys so much, that one doesn't know what else to do. Other than keep the inner demon from loved ones.

Tags: Substance Abuse, Depression, Flashbacks, and Abuse.

Home 

Sunshine dapples the deep green forest. Burn the late morning dew glittering jewels in mid air. Coffee mug in hand black liquid slosh onto cold fingers as I wobble down the tiny staircase of the camper pickup truck. An old rust bucket is the last bit of my savings can afford. 

Sit on a lazy afternoon in a cozy chair. Stare at the endless view of evergreen pines and misty gray mountains is worth it all. Take in the cool sweet wood scent of green fill sore lungs. Swivel chair further away from an old gravel path. Wind over the lush undergrowth. Where customary rodents cover last night's tracks. Eat the empty nut shells and left over trail mix I left for them. Can’t stomach to eat anything again. What’s the point now?

Shield away by Mother Nature’s warmth and green walls. Her sweet melody chirps and whispers in the silence. The sticky sun glues me under the camper cobweb awning. Spiders big enough to play the banjo. Thought grows a chuckle to who said that once. Forever gone away in the forever distance. All for the best. For everyone. For them most of all. 

Free from pain, from it all. It has been done. No need to know the outside world. Can almost imagine it all. Not now. No need to think about any of that at all. Other than wonder how hot this coffee is for me to sip. 

Deep rich aroma takes me away from the pines. Old giggles bounce from concrete walls. Sparks spray in all directions mingles the smell with old metal. When muddle hands rub black grease over my eyebrow. Old scooter parts vomit all over the floor. A victim to be torn apart, rebuilt to either drive faster. Or explode. 

Phone rings memories back to green and soft blue reality. Muffle in the far depths of the 1967 brown and green camper. Can’t be right, I shut it off last night. 

Crawl back into the sauna brown dungeon. Follow the ringtone to the front. Weave over the hot tea water bottles on the fuzzy floor. Brush last night’s debris aside in the trap of doom between the front seat. Bright pink old life shivers in a frenzy. 

I shouldn’t turn the phone over to see the screen. This needs to be my new life now. Can’t go back anyways. How can I like this? How can anyone? Doing this for them. An glove box that only opens and closes by a swift kick is a good place to bury it all away. Turn off all of the past in orange velvet darkness. Leave it all tucked away. Return to the fresh sirene new life. 

Canadian geese honk over the tall tree peaks. The way the flock swoops down a long terrain down from blue skies and feather clouds. Sunrays beam grasshopper hisses mid day summer heat. Follow the distant honks and splash. A cool lake lap over dry cracked feet sounds perfect. Clear this heavy head of mine. 

Wander back inside. Cool worn out duds for lake water. Cold beer in hand, tuck comfy chair under my arm. A handful of fluorescent pink tags roll in hand. Nice way to return to my new home without getting lost. Wait for another set of geese to flutter above. Lead the way out of the hot sun. Weave between the trees. Step over tree root monsters. Smile at the odd bird or animal hops by. 

“We don’t keep secrets, right?”

I whisper to the memories. “No, you don’t.” 

Another voice in the dream rasp. “He still loves you.” 

He shouldn’t, neither should any of you. Too broken, not enough. Difficult. 

Out here. All are no different than any woodland creatures from the largest moose to the small voles scurry by. What is worse, to remember the words. Or the subtle silence of the first night when all of this began. A sink full of awful empty decisions. The oldest brother’s quiet gaze. Patterns flourish in the forest around me. Bright shapes shimmer all that is long gone behind me. Nothing wrong with a cold one in hand on a hot day. 

Besides, take in all of this. A wide dark turquoise green lake. Full of life. A single loon lone coo along with the tiny dots of geese in the water. Soft gentle slopes into sand and clay. Show evidence of deer were here moments ago. 

He misses you that’s all 

One’s voice. Does he?… Of course he does. How could he not? Everyone else knows. 

Sit down in the chair. Set down the last 3 cans of a 6 pack. Miraculous 3 survivors of a drunk blackout yesterday. Crack open heaven. Slide it down the fire throat. Feel it burn over it all. Take in this brand new peaceful life of quiet. Should bring out a couple fishing poles for tonight. If I remember to come back for them. Can’t go back to anything nowadays. 

When will I see you? 

My old self. When my voice had more life. 

Soon, Sweetheart, it will be like old times. 

There’s a reason why they are called old times. It was a good life. A loud life, somewhat chaotic. The endless laughs, pile ons, pushing around. Plastic cockroaches in cupboards, glitter in ninja smoke bombs. One time Mikey and I replaced Raphael’s shower gel for blue dye. Guy was a grumpy Smurf for 4 days. His grouchy growls. The wooden spoon in papa turtle Smurf’s hand. Mikey ran for his life. I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. Wash over the more recent screams and pushes away. Even more of the dark and bleek. 

When closet doors rattle. Whisky bottles smash in the far distance- 

No. Not again. Never speak of it again. None of that ever happened. 

Water swishes numb ankles. Whirl to baby ducks splash nearby. Over work, Mother of 6 squacks her children to behave and paddle behind her. Chuckles at their little feet blur under the clear water. Match the same speed of their cotton ball wings. Can remember when Mikey used to run the same way. Anytime Donnie chases Mikey out of his lab. Sometimes so then Donnie and I could play science and pupil again. 

Water waves between my toes. Shallow parts warm from the sun. Heat numb limbs. Swallow back to boiling hot water. Scorch delicate young skin.

Mommy it’s too hot. 

No…stop

Screams echo. Blister scar. Bare to the summer heat. Every single one remembers every pain. Why did I wear this tank top? Why am I out here? Can’t stay.

Hands stick on to lawn chair. Water waves slosh against the sandy ridge. Small legs kick. Hot water splashes everywhere. Hands shove deep under water. 

Sweetheart, breathe…

Violet voice whispers. Take his invisible hands. Squeeze them. The way he told me to. No thumb rubs my hands. Take in all of the cool fresh pine. Have to get used to this alone. Least this way is the best. No one’s burden any more. Can pick up this lawn chair anytime. 

Wander back the pink flag trail. Lose myself to millions of songs birds and butterflies flutter by. Brush soft long grass under fingers as I go. Crisp fresh air. Think about what bait to use for food tonight. Another thing I will have to start getting used to. 

Yellow happy face atena swings in between shrubs. Wave me down the direction home. Swig the last bit of powerful robust dark beer. Ignite pain away in a smooth burn. Drown darkness where they belong. 

Soft breeze hushes the forest buzz. Breathe in strong bitter fuel knocks the taste of beer. Great animal growls a deep hungry growl. Take me back to a cool violet room. To a lab chair and elastic bands for hair tying. 

“Sweetheart!?”

 Old life hollars me dead frozen in the tall grass. Hidden behind thick honeysuckles. The low hanging tree branches block the meadow opening of my new home. Don’t need to see how close the voice is. Can hear his feet crunch back and forth in the gravel. Rusty truck doors whine open and slam shut. Yellow smiley atena whirs in a hyperactive spaz. Empty cans clang on the far away floor board. Fast in a frantic, more than the time he caught Mikey in his mutagen supply. 

Footsteps wobble in the far depths of camper sweet camper. No.

He can’t be here. No one can find me like this.  I did this for them. They need to stay away from me. Far from any ear shot here. Can drop everything and run. Spin to do so. Lungs leap to jump for the hot pink trail back to the lake. 

Get back here! 

Hot greasy hand clap thunder. Drop the entire lazy afternoon supply. Oh crap no! Don’t drop them.

Metal chair legs clang against beer cans. 

Shallow gasp in the wind. Pushes me faster down the trail. Teenage bare feet pound thistles and burrs I weaved around before. 

Child bare feet blur down a hallway. Slam the bedroom door shut. 

“Tessie, wait!” 

Oh shit! Dammit! All the curse words Mikey should never hear. He found me. Faster down the hill. Over the log. Reach for the ridge. Follow the open blue sky between the evergreen trunks. 

Slip under fast large hands. Hardwood scraps small bare knees. Away from him. Away from the man. Go go go. 

Feet hush to the quiet breeze and soft rainfall of leaves. The broken footpath behind me, bare. Maybe turned back to the shellraiser for something. No matter. Least I can slow down, and lungs can breathe. 

Leaves rustle ahead. Green blur drops from above. Dead in his tracks. The tall slender turtle raises his hands and snatches me. Should have known. Been raised by ninjas for Pete sake. 

Jerk arms in his grip. Swallow the rock down. 

“Donnie, what are you doing here? Let me go.”

Sink away from his gaze. Loosen his grip to one hand on my arm. 

He pants, “I’m not here to fight, and I should be the one asking you the same question.” 

Rip his hand off me. No point in running. His long legs follow behind down the path. As I pick up the lawn chair. 

“No phone call, no note, do you know what I found in that camper?” His feet pound behind. 

Pick up what’s left of the 6 pack. Dangle the last 2 cans yet to be drank. No point in hiding it now. Plus he said he’s not here to fight. There’s no need to answer. Lanky green hands rip the plastic rings. 

“Hey!”

Whirl back to the two cans soar into the forest. Shove Donnie back. 

“What the hell was that for? That stuff ain’t cheap.” 

He towers over me. Loom a dark shadow over. Calm eyes narrow into deep violet slits. Deepens his sharp tongue. 

“Do you know how long I drove to find you,

How long we’ve been looking for you?” 

Step out of his shadow. Continue down the path into the sunlight. Home sweet home lies ahead. 

Shrug as I go, “You didn’t have to. Just decided to take a trip, that's all, what’s wrong with that?”  

Old life lingers in the shadows. Listen to teeth grit splinters. Boy did he skip coffee? Why is he hear anyway. Everyone knows so what’s the point?

Set the lawn chair back under the shade of a hunter's green awning. Since Mr. Grumpy in the corner threw a good set of cans. Guess I’ll have to get more. Crawl back inside the brown velvet coffin. Weave over the thrown cans on the floor. Guess I’ll have to clean this soon. The camper door slams shut. 

“I wouldn’t shut that, unless you want to melt.” I speak to the ghost by the door. 

Silence. Gonna be civil now. Want to burn holes through my head? Go on, do it. Everyone else is gone, why should anything matter. Open the mini fridge. To an endless supply of bottles, cans, and what I forgot most. Leaps off the shelves, plop to the fuzzy floor. 

Oh shit. 

“…what is that?” 

He’s the brainiac and yet he’s asking me? Should be pretty obvious by the label. Let his long legs weave around me. Take a bag from the fridge. I Crack open a cold one. Fire burns down all those dark heavy nights. Think back to all of the colorful waves last night.

“…T-this…” 

Leave him in the camper. Let him figure it out himself. Wasn’t supposed to be here to begin with. Might as well read what brand I use, for what? Who knows. 

Set the can in the lawn chair. Camper door shuts, no slam? Weird. Shouldn’t he be furious or something? 

Been standing there for a while. Turn to him at the metal steps. Shaded from the hot sun. Bag shivers in between his fingers. Lost to the horizon. That I’ve seen thousands of times in his brown eyes. His internal gears whir. He never looks like this unless…

“You do know, right?” 

Silence answers. The deep rise and fall of his chest. He sinks down to the flatten tall grass. Let the bag fall between his fingers. A look I make when I wake up from a nightmare. Before I would run straight to his bedroom. 

Set the can away. How? What?! 

Rise up from the old seat. I ask, “The guys never told you?” 

Rise from his palms, bambi eyes round wide, “They know about this?!” 

“Well…yeah”- 

“How long?” He mutters, waiting for an answer, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Take a step away from his ember coals glow. Shrug an answer, “I thought you knew, how can everyone else know but you Donnie, you know every inch of the city.” 

“How was I supposed to know?” He shoots from the ground. Bury me in his height, “You never call or text me anymore, and then leave the city to who knows where, does Mikey know?!” 

Mikey. Golden sun, white dust particles float over the sweet turtle. Bath in old and new sunlight. Breathe that old dry air of that lazy morning. 

Nod in silence. Hoarse throat stops all words Heavy numb limbs drag back inside the brown coffin. Large queen size mattress at the back. Warm by the sun. Shut all of the curtains away. Curl all away in a ball. Close away from all life. This is not what is supposed to happen. 

“Sweetheart?” Footsteps wobble the camper. 

No answer. Feel the camper sink down with him. Warmth touches my arch back, soft thumb rubs me to the old cool lab. All those years ago. 

“What are your plans for being out here?” He whispers. 

No, he already knows now. He can’t know about this too. It will crush him. Shiver under his soft palm. There’s no going back. I’ve made this decision. Already caused enough problems as it is. First Leo. How it all turned Raph down into this dark hole. Times I’ve picked him up because of what I’ve done. Tried to fix it all for Mikey. Tried to be happy for Mikey. Yet…I am here. This is what I deserve. Donnie shouldn’t even be here. Why is he still here?

Weight shifts the mattress. Warmth drapes behind all along against me. His long arm slides around me. Pull me back tight against his beating heart. Donnie’s muzzle nestles deep into my shoulder. It doesn't take much for him to know. 

Brush back strands from my cheek. 

He whispers, “You don’t deserve to go through this alone.” 

Roll in his arms. Drown myself into this chest I’ve missed so much all night long. Muzzle in his sweet scent and warmth. Squeeze all pain in his tight arms. 

I shake, “I-I Don’t kn-know… if I can go back, big brother, I-I’m too broken. No one should be stuck with me”- 

Soft lips plant firm silence my heavy forehead. 

“You are never too broken, it’s okay to have space for a while when you need it.” His deep voice murmurs in my ear. 

Cling on to his belt. The same way when I was small. Take me back to the memories. Away from all of this. Let all of the pain drip onto his chest. Choke on my words.

As my brainiac brother traces slow circles on my back. Sweet rich coffee fills my world. Over the fresh pine. More warm than the summer hot sun. A soft sigh quells more than the lone loon. I am back home. This is home. Safe. Can hide here as long as I need. 

 He whispers, “I will stay for as long as you need me, little pupil.” 

Bit through all the painful tears to fall. That roll down my brother’s chest. Yesterday I was in darkness. Tomorrow, who knows where I will be. For now I am with Donatello. My close friend, my big brother.

I am home. 

[sapphic-coded]

I Swear That I Don't Have A Gun

You grew up in Ohio with your father, brother, and sister. Your family was small and strange. Because of that, you were picked on relentlessly at school. Until another weird kid showed up. Her family moved in across the street from you. It wasn't long until the two of you became friends. Your friendship became the light in your life. Until it ended suddenly. Rumors followed your friend's disappearance. Russian spies. You didn't see her again until you crossed paths at work.

Series Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader

Warnings: Violence. Reader is a messed up assassin and misses her gun home. Childhood trauma hanging out in the background. Hunted animals. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: Life has been crazy. It still is. But this series is so much fun to write. Please know that your comments and love have kept my days bright. I read all your comments. Your likes and reblogs make me do my happy dance. It makes me happy that you guys are enjoying this series as much as I am. I apologize for the wait. I hope this new chapter makes up for it!

Taglist: @natsxwife @iliketozoneout @newawakening9 @natasha-1million @ilovemcuff @taliiiaasteria @alowint @yerisdumbass @natashasilverfox @fxckmiup

Chapter Eight: You Can't Raise Hell With A Saint

Mount Vernon, Ohio – 1993

You watched the station wagon slowly back out of your driveway from your bedroom window. As you watched, you folded and then unfolded the piece of paper in your hand several times. Your father’s departing words echoed in the back of your mind. 

“This is vital to maintaining our relationship with our allies. Remember. When the time comes, we must position ourselves on the correct side.” 

You waited until the station wagon disappeared from view before your attention shifted onto the snowman across the street. Your father is gone for the weekend. Your assigned homework is already completed and buried in your backpack. You had hoped for two uninterrupted days with your friend. You two had discovered a perfect hill for sledding not too far away. You had hoped you could return to it this weekend with Nat. But before your father had left, he had given you an assignment. One you were not allowed to ignore. 

But if you finish it quickly like your homework…

You turned away from the window and got dressed. The house was quiet as you descended the stairs and hunted through the kitchen for breakfast. Your father had given both your brother and sister assignments. You figured your siblings were already out doing them. You found an opened pack of pop-tarts hidden behind the jar of two dead mating frogs. You ate the delicious blueberry pop-tart and washed it down with tap water from the sink. Once breakfast was done, you pulled on your snow boots and put on your heavy winter coat. You unfolded your father’s note once more to reread the words hastily scribbled in fine black ink. Then, you refolded up the note and shoved it into your coat’s pocket. 

You left out the back door and pulled on your gloves as the morning winter air scratched at your face. The snow crunched beneath your boots as you headed towards the treeline. The woods behind your house stretched onwards for roughly two miles. It was one of the reasons why your father had chosen to settle here. He could disappear into this patch of quiet woodland and no one but you and your siblings would know. 

For a while, the only noise was the steady rhythm of your footsteps and the chirping of birdsong as you left your house behind and walked deep into the woods. The sunlight shone brightly off the surface of the snow and made your eyes water if you stared at it for too long. You felt the wind beginning to pick up and blow against your back as you walked. Your pace did not slow until you reached the base of a tree with a dead hare hanging from a snare. 

You knelt down into the cold snow and pulled your hunting knife from your coat pocket. You cut the rope and lifted the dead animal up by the rope’s lead. Its dark lifeless eyes stared at you and you searched for any ounce of pity. When you didn’t find any, you stood up and continued walking. The weight of the hare hanging from the small noose made you feel less alone. You kept walking until you spotted a smooth, round rock. You picked it up and it nearly covered your whole palm. 

You tied the end of the rope around the rock as you continued further into the woods. The light of the sun had started to dim when you finally reached a large pond. Your feet carried you to a narrow dock that stretched out over the water. The wooden boards groaned beneath your feet as you came to the end of the dock. You looked down into the dark water. It hadn’t frozen over yet which made your assignment easier. The wind continued to blow at your back as you tossed the dead hare into the water. The lifeless animal hit the cold water with a splash and floated on the pond’s surface for a moment. Then the dark water pulled the dead hare down into its depths. You waited for some kind of response. A sign that your assignment was complete. But nothing happened. So you turned and started the trek home. 

Your thoughts returned to your friend as you began following your footprints back the way you came. You would have the whole rest of the day to do whatever you wanted. And tomorrow you wouldn’t have to waste any time with another assignment. Your immediate future was bright and that fueled your quick pace. 

But your pace started to slow when you lost sight of your footprints in the snow. The wind that had been blowing must have covered them up. You ignored the first sour taste of fear and kept going. You had planned to just follow your tracks back home, but you could make it back without them. You had only gone in one direction. It wouldn’t be difficult to find your way back home. You shoved your gloved hands into the pockets of your heavy coat as the wind now blew against your face. 

The light of the sun continued to fade as you made new tracks in the snow. You were going in the right direction. You had to be. But you spotted new bushes and weird leaning trees that you hadn’t seen before. You felt yourself shivering against the cold as the light faded into the coming dark. You kept walking until you finally leaned against a tree and sank towards the freezing ground. You closed your eyes and tried to curl yourself up as much as you could within the fading warmth of your coat. 

You don’t know how you messed up your assignment. You thought you knew your way back. You thought this would be so easy. Your father had dragged you and your siblings out here plenty of times. Yet you’re lost and you don’t know what to do other than sit here and–

“Y/N!” 

Nat. 

Triskelion, Washington D.C. – 2012

You miss your little piece of woodland paradise. You had discovered the small cabin during your fourth job. You had been posing as a realtor for your target. The cabin had caught your eye because of its remoteness. It was tucked away along the mountainside and far enough away from all the main roads that all you heard when you stepped outside was birdsong and the wind brushing through the trees. It was the perfect spot to kill your target. The cabin had been left on the market for years and only maintained by a vendor who came out once a season to keep the place from falling apart. You would have no interruptions to deal with. If your target tried to flee, it would be a long run back to a main road. And even if your target got that far, they would need to run from there back to the nearest town. This spot was an open playground. You could kill your target however you wanted. Chase them around if you were feeling energetic. Sever their head with an axe like a lumberjack cutting up wood. 

But when you had pulled up to the cabin for the first time, you realized that you couldn’t do any of that here. Sure, you had plenty of space. The cabin was remote. The main road lightly traveled. When you let out a scream to test if anyone would come running, no one did. It wasn’t until you walked through the cabin and into each of the small, cozy rooms that you understood why you couldn’t bring your target here. The cabin felt too much like a home. 

The pictures that hung on the walls were snapshots of the owner’s life. Frames full of smiling faces and captured happy moments. You saw the lives of their children begin with innocent, small, round confused faces and stop at handsome young faces decorated in medals and gowns. The furniture bore the nicks and marks of a life used. You could even see the spots of soot left behind in the fireplace where the vendor failed to clean. 

You had only ever been in a home like this once before. You had sat down onto the couch in the cabin’s small family room and looked over at the kitchen. You imagined the smell of Nat’s home. You imagined Nat’s mother standing in the kitchen. It was the only thing you could think of. You sat there for a long time. It had been the first time in years that you thought about your friend without all the other stories hanging onto the memory. You thought about Nat. You thought about how happy you had been around her. You tried to imagine her as an adult, but you couldn’t. She was dead, and you were no longer the kid she met back in Ohio.

You ended up killing your target during a private tour of a much larger home far away from the cabin you found. By the time you had bought and moved into the cabin, the new owners of the other much larger home had only finished finding all your target’s missing fingers. The cabin had become your home. Your place to unwind after your jobs. You had filled it with everything you knew that belonged in a home. You loved the feeling of walking through the front door after a long job and just breathing in the smell of your home. 

Your bunk is nothing like your cabin. You are buried beneath all the important floors. Your room has no windows. Your room has four white walls, harsh overhead lights, and a white tiled floor. The brightness of the room often gives you a headache which is why your favorite time to be in your bunk is when you are sleeping. All the lights are off and you can listen to the hum of the air conditioner. The best part is that you don’t have to wear that stupid suit when you are in here. You are even allowed to speak, however the only person you ever talk to is Rumlow. 

You miss your cabin so much.

The lights in your room come on when the door opens. The twin sized mattress you lay on offers the bare minimum of comfort, yet you don’t bother to sit up. Instead, as you wake and hear familiar footsteps, you drape your arm over your eyes. It successfully blocks out the harsh light, but does nothing to stop the approaching footsteps.    

“The bosses up top were impressed with your Bardstown mission,” Rumlow says. 

You can’t fight back the small laugh that works its way past your curling lips. With your arm draped over your eyes you can see Sikora’s bent neck clearly. You can still hear each crunch as his body collided down each step. “I killed one person and they weren’t even my target.”

“Which worked out in your favor,” Rumlow says as his approaching footsteps stop. “You played your part. The mission was a success, and no one will look deeper than that.” 

You lift your arm away from your eyes and let it flop down to your side. The harsh lights already make your eyes water, but you focus on Rumlow who stands beside your bunk looking down at you. “Do you find your work fulfilling?” Instead of answering you, he turns and steps away from your bunk. You sit up. “Satisfaction is very important to me.” 

Rumlow causally makes his way over to a small table. He picks up the half finished bottle of bourbon Nat gave you before leaving Bardstown. You couldn’t drink it then. Removing your helmet around her would go against everything Rumlow has been drilling into your head. But you had ripped your helmet off the moment you returned to your bunk. You had brought the bottle to your lips, and you had drunk so much while thinking of her. 

“What are you asking for?” he asks. 

“Let me work,” you reply. “Without the suit and the rules. Tell me who the bosses want dead, give me back my gun, and let me kill them.” 

Rumlow sets the bottle down. “That’s not how this works.” 

You roll your eyes and flop back down onto your bunk. 

“I also don’t have your gun,” he adds. 

You close your eyes and swallow back the urge to yell. You hate this role so much. If you were impressing these bosses so much, why wouldn’t they let you show them how good you really were? What was the point of all the secrets if most of SHIELD was really HYDRA anyways? Or at least, most of the important people. Or whatever Rumlow had told you during those first few days. 

“The bosses were also pleased with how you handled Romanoff,” Rumlow says. 

Your eyes open and you stare up at the bland white ceiling. You fight back the smile you know is coming when you think back to the best day of your life. You hope you end up on another mission like that. Just the two of you. The one little new piece of your life that made tolerating this role just a bit more manageable. 

“How do you feel?” Rumlow asks. 

Like you want to pour over the office directory until you find her office. You’d race up there and sneak in when she isn’t around. You’d sit in the comfortable office chair that you hope she has up there. You’d take your helmet off and wait. And when she finally enters you’d spin around in her chair for a proper dramatic entrance. 

You turn your head to look at Rumlow. “Depressed. My favorite gun is lost.” 

Rumlow holds your stare. You know what he’s looking for. Perhaps if he could read minds then he would have found it. Instead, you hide all your fantasies and memories behind your little lie. It’s easy. You do the same trick your father always did. String together a story from bits and pieces of truth and mold it into what you need. You know it worked when Rumlow finally breaks your little staring contest. You don’t move when he turns away from you. You don’t want to give away your victory. 

“You have training with Rollins in twenty,” Rumlow says before he leaves. 

You wait until the door to your room shuts behind him before you get up. You move towards the table and grab the half empty bottle of bourbon. You bring it to your lips and take a sip. The smooth amber liquid washes across your tongue and burns down your throat. You think of when she handed you this bottle. You remember the way her hands briefly brushed across your gloved ones. 

You set the bottle down and change while your mind lingers in that memory. Rollins is already waiting for you when you arrive at one of the training rooms a few floors up. Bright sunlight pours through the windows that run along the far side of the training room. You feel uncomfortably hot underneath your suit, and you already miss the cool kiss of the air conditioning that hums in your bunk. When you see Rollins in the training room, your interior visor screen lights up with data you already knew. Except for the healing ribs. That part is new. 

Rollins leads you over to a bunch of blue mats. The hand to hand combat drills still feel weird. You know what you are supposed to do. You had learned back when Rumlow first shoved you into this stupid suit that going for kill strikes was not in compliance. You had to work your way up to kill strikes to make everything more believable. 

“You’re not an assassin anymore. You’re a SHIELD agent.” 

Which wasn’t even the truth. You found that this dance they forced you to do felt awkward. Your movements felt sloppy as you fought not to go for the opening that would put your target down permanently. And when a kill strike was considered acceptable, it always came far too late. It never felt right. These lessons pressed up against the memories of your training back in Ohio, and it often left you feeling more frustrated than anything else. 

Your training with Rollins is quickly following the same trend as all the others. Your punches feel sluggish and off. Every time Rollins dodges your hit or counters, you know exactly what you should have done instead. Your frustration grows as you hold back. Your thoughts scream at you in the roar of your father’s voice. You want to give in. Why trade blows when it can easily be only you hitting your target? But you’ve already tried giving in. You had managed to bloody your knuckles a bit before Rumlow had started talking to you about compliance. Everything had stopped despite your urge to keep going. Then you were back at the beginning as if your outburst hadn’t happened. 

Rollins dodges one of your punches and delivers a blow to your torso that pushes you back a step. He doesn’t advance. He stands there and waits as you swallow back all the foul words that usually tumble out of your mouth whenever something hurts. It’s hard not to say anything. Especially when he stands there looking bored. But you aren’t eager for them to start fucking with your mind again, so you keep quiet. The sound of your heavy breaths fills up your helmet as you return to your spot in front of Rollins. You duck under his right arm as it swings out. Your fist slams into his healing ribs and the noise he makes is exactly what you needed to hear. His cry is short-lived as he quickly masks it with a grunt. He retreats from you, and you let him. You watch as his breaths become more labored as his hands press against the very spot you hit. You don’t know if you just broke one of his healing ribs. It hadn’t been your intention, but you certainly didn’t pull that punch. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” 

Her voice steals your attention. She stands by the door dressed in a dark gray sweatshirt and black joggers. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest, and her head tilts slightly as her question is first met with silence. Well, more like your silence and Rollins’ heavy breaths. You could shatter this stretch of quiet in a heartbeat, and you want to. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you bury the urge. Your eyes greedily take in the sight of your friend. You are grateful for your stupid helmet as your eyes run down the length of her legs and stop at the black sneakers that cover her feet. 

“I thought you were heading back up to New York with Rogers,” Rollins finally says. 

“Eventually,” she replies with a slight shrug and walks further into the training room. “But I have some stuff I need to take care of first.” She uncrosses her arms as she casually approaches the mats. “You should head back before anyone from medical catches you here.”  

“I’m a bit busy training the quiet one,” Rollins says. 

You should have tried to break his ribs. He’d be too busy dealing with that pain to put a premature end to this wonderful moment. 

“I can take over,” she offers. 

Your helmet conceals the wide smile that cuts across your face. You don’t know what you have done to deserve so much alone time with your friend, but you will happily do whatever it takes to keep ending up in these wonderful moments. You don’t hear Rollins leave, and when you look over at the man, you can tell that he is unsure if he should leave. The questions he cannot voice are written plainly across his face and your smile falters. Is he…is he not going to leave? Is he really going to ruin this for you? You want to tell him that his concerns are unnecessary. If you were going to spill the beans, you would have done it the moment you and Nat were alone on the quinjet. Or sometime in Bardstown. Not in some fancy building secretly full of HYDRA agents ready to put you down with just a couple of random words. 

“Don’t worry,” her voice pulls your attention back to her. Despite the fact that she is addressing Rollins, her focus is on you. You spot the beginnings of a smirk that stirs up something inside you. Something exciting and warm. “I won’t break her.” 

You hear Rollins sigh and you feel the buzz of your excitement grow. 

“If you do, you’re the one having that conversation with Rumlow,” Rollins replies. “Not me.” Rollins gives you one last warning look before leaving. You watch the man’s retreating form and feel at ease when you see his hand come up to gingerly touch the spot where you hit him. 

When you look back over at Nat, you find her pulling her dark gray sweatshirt over her head. The uncomfortable heat that sticks to your skin beneath your suit returns as you feel your hands begin to sweat inside your gloves. You ignore the information that attempts to clog up your visor. Your focus is first on the black sleeveless shirt she wears. The hem of the shirt gets caught briefly on her sweatshirt and lifts to reveal the barest hint of a firm ab. You blink when the shirt falls back down. 

Nat sets her sweatshirt aside and steps onto the mats. “Are they always that serious around you?” 

You nod, but you are not thinking about Rollins, or Rumlow, or how painfully serious both tend to be at all times. You are too consumed by the realization that you have never seen this much of your friend before. No. That wasn’t it. You can recall several old memories of warm summer days and cool lake water. But you hadn’t felt like this back then. You are staring at her lean biceps and you just want to touch her. 

She steps forward. “Your missions with them must be fun.” She shifts into a fighting stance and raises her fists. “Let’s see what you can do.” 

You raise your fists and shift your stance. Your smirk at your friend’s earlier sarcasm falls away as your visor’s screen identifies multiple places to strike first. You know what you want to do, but that option isn’t listed anywhere on the screen. If it wasn’t for Nat standing in front of you, you would have quickly returned to your sour, frustrated mood. But instead, you wait for her to strike first. A few moments pass and all you two do is slowly circle the mats. You realize that she’s waiting for you to strike first. A hint of your concealed smile returns. You happily oblige. 

Your fist swings towards her, and you feel her arm quickly block your strike. Your focus is on her face, and you can tell that she barely had to think about her reaction. You continue to move in a slow circle and she does the same. You fall back into the training that Rumlow has been drilling into you since they freed you from that chair. You move in and strike. You frown slightly as she blocks or dodges every one of your strikes. It makes you feel like she’s in your mind. That she knew what you planned to do the exact same time you did. You retreat back a step when your fifth punch doesn’t land. 

You wait for her to move in with her attack, but it doesn’t come. You know she can’t see your face, but it feels like she can when she offers a small shrug and that small smile creeps back in. 

“I’m guessing that was your warm-up?” 

You know it’s bait, but you take it anyway. You move in with another series of attacks. Every single one of your punches feels just as sluggish as before. The rhythm feels off. You feel like each attack is wrong. Your strikes aren’t landing and just as you are about to sink into the seething grip of your frustration, you see Nat’s fist coming towards you. Your hand catches her wrist before her fist can make contact with your helmet. 

You watch as her brow arches in a silent question. You ignore the data that races across your visor’s screen and focus on the weight of her wrist in your hand. The familiarity of it lures out pieces of warmer memories. The touch of her hand taking yours. How her touch would melt the rigid cold left after early summer mornings with your father. You abandon the awkward dance you have been following. You can hear whispers of your father’s voice in the back of your mind as you take a breath and move. 

Her wrist slips free before you can pull her towards you. She goes on the offensive and the attacks you block send you back a few steps. You spy her foot moving to hook behind yours and you maneuver away from that pitfall only to feel her fist connect with your side. The pain is barely there. You two are sparring. But it lights a very familiar fire inside of you. 

You press forward with an onslaught of strikes that feel more natural. She continues to block most of them until you manage to slip past her defenses and successfully hook your foot behind hers. As you sweep her foot out from underneath her, her hands come up to latch onto the fabric of your stupid suit. She lets her falling body pull you down, and you both land on your side. Your one hand reaches to dislodge the grip she has on your suit while your other instinctively reaches out towards her neck. You feel her legs wrap around your waist and in one quick movement, you are on your back. Her hand stops yours from reaching her throat and pins it against the mat. She quickly pins your other hand to the mat, and you stare up at her as your heavy breaths fog up your interior visor. 

She doesn’t let go of your hands as she looks down at you. You know all she can see is her own reflection staring back at her, and you want her to pull the stupid helmet off your head. You wouldn’t be breaking the rules if she exposed this game. But she doesn’t. Instead, she leans down just an inch or two closer and asks, “How do you feel about opera?” 

You shrug. 

Her smile returns as she finally lets go of your hands. She gets up and you instantly miss her warm weight on top of you. You sit up as she returns to where she left her sweatshirt. She digs into her sweatshirt’s pocket, pulls something out, and tosses it towards you. You catch it. You can feel another burst of excitement rush through you as you stare at the phone in your hand. 

“That’s yours,” Nat says as she pulls her sweatshirt back on. “I thought it might be easier for us to communicate. I already loaded my number into your phone.” 

You have her phone number. You don’t move from your spot on the mats as your fingers wrap tenderly around the phone. Direct access to your friend without needing to go through anyone else or jump through any additional hoops. It feels like you’re back in Ohio. All you need to do is cross the street, and she’s there waiting for you. 

“I’ll be in contact soon,” she says as she moves towards the door. “Don’t put Rollins back in medical while I’m away.” 

You watch her leave. You wait until she’s gone before you lean backwards onto the mat and let out a quiet, short laugh.

[valinbean]

Chapter one : Ford the love of Bill!

Ford/ Gn!reader

1.4k words

my first fic in forever! please leave your thoughts on the first chapter!

Chapter 2: Bad Moon Rising

Chapter 3: Falling for the Mystery

Gravity Falls is still reeling from the aftermath of Weirdmageddon. Strange occurrences are on the rise. As a skilled botanist with deep roots in the town, you've noticed peculiar changes in the local flora. Anomalies in plant growth, unusual behavior in wildlife - it's as if the very fabric of the forest is unraveling. Your cousin, Wendy, encourages you to seek help from the enigmatic Stanford Pines, who seems to have a deeper understanding of the town's supernatural underbelly. Together, you discover that remnants of Bill Cipher's magic are still lingering, corrupting the natural world. To save Gravity Falls, you must delve into the heart of the woods, confront the remnants of this cosmic evil, and find a way to banish it for good

Journal entry #1 

‘It's been a month since the world ended, or so they say. Gravity Falls is a ghost town of denial. The carnival music still echoes in my ears, a haunting melody of what was and what could be.

My notes are filled with the grotesque. Animals, once familiar, are morphing into something else. I found a squirrel yesterday with a human hand growing from its back, its tiny fingers clawing at the air. A squirrel.

The forest, once a sanctuary, is now a horror show. The ground itself is alive, or something like it. I stepped into a patch of earth a few days ago, and a grotesque, pulsating eye met my gaze. I've never felt so utterly alone.’

Y/n closed their journal with a snap, the pen clicking against the leather cover. Their eyes, heavy with exhaustion, scanned the cluttered desk. Stacks of books, their pages filled with cryptic notes and strange diagrams, seemed to mock their fruitless efforts. A glance at the clock confirmed Y/n's worst fears: three in the afternoon. Half a day wasted, and they was no closer to understanding the bizarre transformations plaguing the town.

A frustrated sigh escaped their lips as they began the arduous task of tidying up. Books were piled haphazardly into a satchel, papers were stuffed into random pockets, and their worn journal was tucked safely away. With a final glance around the room, they muttered, “Pitter patter, let's get at ‘er,” and headed for the door.

The librarian, an elderly woman with kind eyes, offered a sympathetic smile as Y/n passed her desk. As they stepped out into the crisp autumn air, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling they was being watched. A shiver ran down their spine, but Y/n dismissed it as a trick of the mind. After all, stranger things had happened in Gravity Falls.

The forest canopy filtered the afternoon sun into dappled patches, casting eerie shadows on the forest floor. An unnatural quiet hung in the air, a stark contrast to the usual symphony of woodland creatures. Y/n pressed on, their boots crunching through fallen leaves as they made their way to a small clearing, a place they’d often visited for solace.

A chill crept up Y/n's spine as they surveyed the area. Something was off. The vibrant green of the undergrowth seemed duller, and the familiar scent of pine was replaced by a faint, metallic tang. As Y/n bent to examine a peculiar, vine-like growth, a cold sensation touched their ankle.

Heart pounding, Y/n looked down. A human arm, pale and lifeless, was emerging from the earth, its fingers twitching. Before they could react, another arm sprouted forth, its grip tightening around Y/n's leg. A scream tore from their throat as they stumbled backward, their breath coming in ragged gasps.

Desperate, they fumbled for their satchel, Y/n's fingers trembling. A heavy book, filled with botanical diagrams, came loose. With a cry of defiance, Y/n swung it at the grasping hands. They recoiled, but only for a moment. More arms erupted from the ground, a grotesque, writhing mass.

Terror propelled Y/n's forward. They had to escape. Their eyes scanned the forest, searching for a way out. And then Y/n saw their cousin, Wendy, emerging from the Mystery Shack. Hope ignited within Y/n.

"Wendy! Wendy!" Y/n cried, their voice hoarse with fear. "You won't believe what I just saw!" Y/n gasped for breath, their mind racing. "Hands, from the ground! They were trying to grab me!"

Wendy's eyes widened in alarm as she took in Y/n's panicked state. Her casual demeanor vanished, replaced by a protective instinct. "What the hell are you talking about?" she demanded, her voice sharp.

Y/n gestured wildly at the forest, their breath still coming in ragged gasps. "There...there are hands! Coming out of the ground!"

Wendy's skepticism was quickly replaced by a look of grim determination. She grabbed Y/n's arm and pulled them back a few steps. "Let's see what's going on," she said, her voice low.

As they approached the edge of the clearing, a chorus of low, guttural sounds echoed through the trees. The ground seemed to ripple, and dozens of eyes began to open, their irises glowing an eerie green. A moment later, hands erupted from the earth, their fingers clawing at the air.

Terror seized Y/n as they realized the full extent of the horror. It was as if the forest itself was rising up against them. Y/n clung to Wendy, their body trembling uncontrollably.

"We need to get out of here," Wendy said, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. "Now."

The girls sprinted through the trees, their hearts pounding in their chests like frantic drum beats. Behind them, the forest seemed to writhe with an unnatural energy, a cacophony of low, guttural moans and muffled thuds echoing through the undergrowth. Panic surged through Y/n as they stumbled over a gnarled root, their ankle twisting painfully. Y/n cried out, but Wendy's determined voice spurred them onward. "Keep going!"

As they burst from the concealing embrace of the trees, they collided with Stan, his figure outlined against the porch of the Mystery Shack. Shock was etched on his face, his mouth agape in disbelief. Before he could utter a word, the unsettling sounds from the forest reached his ears.

The trio turned as one, their gazes drawn to the unnatural disturbance. The forest, once a comforting green expanse, had transformed into something sinister. The cacophony abruptly ceased, replaced by an eerie silence that hung heavy in the air. It was as if the forest was holding its breath, anticipating its next move.

Stan's face paled as he took in the scene. His eyes darted between the silent woods and the terrified cousins. "We need to get inside," he said, his voice barely a whisper, the words seeming to echo in the tense silence.

Without hesitation, he grabbed Y/n and Wendy by their arms and hauled them into the safety of the Mystery Shack. The heavy wooden door slammed shut, cutting them off from the ominous quiet of the forest. As they huddled together, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, the realization of their predicament sank in.

"What is that thing?" Y/n managed to whisper, their voice trembling. Fear, like a cold tendril, wrapped around them, threatening to consume Y/n.

Just as the last echo of the door closing faded, a creaking sound emerged from the depths of the house. A figure emerged from the shadows. His piercing eyes, held a lifetime of secrets and a spark of intelligence that belied his age.

Ford's emergence from the shadows was a jolt to the system. Lean and imposing despite his age, he cut a striking figure in the dim light of the Mystery Shack. Stan, who had grown accustomed to the quiet solitude of the shack, and his brothers dramatic entrances, looked surprised but not entirely shocked.

"Ford," Stan breathed, his voice a mixture of annoyance and relief.

The old man nodded, his gaze fixed on the door as if he could see through it. "Something is very wrong out there," he said, his voice raspy but firm. His voice carried an undertone of authority, a hint of a life spent commanding respect.

A flicker of a knowing smile played on his lips, a hint of a hidden amusement that was both intriguing and unsettling. It was as if he was privy to a secret, a dangerous game he was only now beginning to play.

His gaze fell on Y/n, and for a moment, their eyes locked. There was a spark, a recognition, a silent acknowledgment of something beyond the immediate situation. Then, he looked away, his expression once more impassive.

"We need to focus," he said, his voice cutting through the tension. "Whatever is out there, it's a threat. We need to understand it, and we need to stop it."

Stan nodded, a silent understanding passing between the two brothers. They'd been living together in the shack since the twins had left, a strange and often tense cohabitation. But in this moment, faced with an unknown horror, their shared history and knowledge became an invaluable asset.

Y/n couldn't help but steal a glance at Ford. Something about him, his quiet authority, his air of mystery, was undeniably captivating. It was a strange time to be noticing such things, but there was an undeniable pull towards the enigmatic old man.

Ford's gaze turned back to the door, his eyes filled with a determination that contradicted his age. "We have work to do," he said, his voice low and steady. "And it starts now."

Tag list! @shadowdreamer22

[shirefantasies]

Hi there! I saw your LotR imagine about an animal companion and thought it was adorable!! Could you do one but with a cat instead? It could either be a normal sized cat or a big one, your choice! I just love cats! Hope you have a good day today!

Heck yeah! I’m more of a cat person too so this resonates with me far more than the other 😆 dude, I'm so sorry this took so long but I hope you like it Liv 🖤

The Fellowship With Your Feline Companion

Aragorn

✧ It does not escape you the way he raises his eyebrows upon first seeing the cat perched upon your shoulder.

✧ But you misunderstand him- Aragorn is well used to forming deep bonds with animals, his just happen to be with horses and all he’s thinking is what a surprise it is you got the cat to stay.

✧ Never will you forget his expression of polite, stoic surprise the first time your cat clambers onto him and settles there and the subsequent smile you share.

✧ You often catch him whispering in Elvish to your cat. Even if you cannot understand the words, they seem to have a calming effect.

✧ “All lives are valuable. Even the smallest ones.”

Legolas

✧ “And who is this?” Legolas asks upon meeting you, dark eyes glinting with mirth as they fix upon your cat, who currently perches upon your shoulder.

✧ Reticent as your companion tends to remain, the kind hands of the elven prince bring forth purrs and soft eyes of peace easily.

✧ Legolas takes to borrowing your companion for trips up the trees. Sometimes they return with a casualty, your cat having claimed a bird as prey on the climbing and scouting trip.

✧ Quite impressed is the woodland prince with the way you developed an archery method with a cat upon your shoulder. Perhaps he may even have to try it!

✧ Always refers to the cat as ‘your guardian’ as if you are not the one providing feed and care! You frequently tease each other about who owns who in the relationship.

Boromir

✧ "And the cat is going with you?" You did not appreciate his teasing skepticism. "Yes," you answered, tone hard, "Take it or leave it. You want me on this journey, you get him."

✧ He tries. Boromir tries to break through your layers of frost, but no success. At least not until the night your feline companion clambers off of the log by your side and onto his lap, accepting the shred of meat he is offered. The man sighs as your beloved cat tears in. "He is so small. So innocent in all of this. I simply do not want to see him hurt. You understand that, right?"

✧ After that, you notice Boromir’s efforts. The nest he built your companion to sleep in and the way he stands right at its side every night watch.

✧ Boromir is absolutely the type to pout when he calls or beckons to him and your cat completely ignores him, prompting you to burst out laughing every time.

✧ Sometimes he is a bit rough when he makes to pet or scratch your cat, prompting you to take and guide his hand in gently stroking him.

Gimli

✧ "Does he bite?" The dwarf asked, cautiously extending a hand. "Not unless I tell her to," you subtly corrected.

✧ It becomes a bit of a joke between you and Gimli- any time he gives you some sort of hassle, you jokingly threaten to sic your beast upon him even if she’s just sitting there purring in your lap.

✧ Picks pieces of meat from fireside suppers, selecting them as carefully as a royal beefeater for his queen and smiling with great pleasure when they are enjoyed.

✧ Insists that beside you, he is your cat’s favorite. Bickers with Legolas for this position more often than you’d have expected.

✧ Gimli has a field day when he, upon taking off his helmet, discovers your cat wedged inside curled up tightly. “Well, I suppose I go now into battle with no helmet. If I’m struck atop the head, remember me, cat!” He says this all as if he is not grinning ear to ear.

Frodo

✧ “You remind me of Strider,” he tells you early in your journey together, “One with nature as you are. Though I must say you carry a much fairer presence.”

✧ Your cat has never shown such maternal instinct as when Frodo joins her life. The weight of the ring suffocates him, but the touch of fur is just as grounding, her weight upon his lap a welcome one that brings reality back before his eyes.

✧ She even saves his life at one point, leaping onto him right before the ring could slide onto his finger.

✧ You find yourself gravitating toward Frodo’s side more and more, smiling at the way his fingers instinctually tangle in the soft fur upon your shoulder.

✧ Frodo is the only one your cat allows to pick up and hold her except for you.

Sam

✧ “Are you a wizard like Gandalf?” Pure amusement and endearment overtook your neutral expression, shattering it in favor of a smile at the hobbit, who himself looked a combination of awed and frightened. “It’s because of the black cat, isn’t it?”

✧ Insistent as you are that your cat is not some fabled familiar or enchantment, Samwise still addresses your second half with nothing short of reverence. Perhaps even a title.

✧ Absolutely delighted to make tiny plates of whatever you guys eat or just for giblets to give the newest quest member.

✧ Knowing as much as he does about plants, Sam is able to identify, harvest, and dry some catnip to put in a little tear of fabric. Suffice it to say he really has a friend after that!

✧ “You know,” Sam remarks one night by the fire as you lay side by side, his hand gently stroking your feline companion’s fur, “It’s nice. Having a comfort like this. Almost like you’ve brought a piece of home. Then again, you are home to each other, aren’t you?” “We are indeed,” you agree with a soft smile.

Merry

✧ Having a hobbit pull a little sword on you was certainly not on your day's itinerary. "Well, you are just full of surprises, aren't you?" You quipped. "I could say the same to you," the golden-haired hobbit replied, nodding his curly head toward the cat winding between your booted feet.

✧ Once you are recognized as friend rather than foe, Merry wants to know hear the story behind your becoming a duo, sitting next to you at the fire and listening intently, eyes remaining fixed upon yours.

✧ “So you were nothing more than a baby?” Merry leans on his folded arms, addressing your cat as if expecting an answer. “Just a stray? And look at you now! Big and strong. You had someone to take good care of you.”

✧ “Forgive me for asking this,” the hobbit inquires one day with a tug upon your cloak, “But how do you fight? With, you know…” “I’m an archer,” you chuckle, “We stay as far away as we can help and keep to our very specific shoulders. It can be a little clumsy sometimes, but I do alright. Haven’t died yet.”

✧ Rustling at your side is not an uncommon thing for you to wake to- rustling accompanied, of course, by the sight of Merry scooting his bedroll closer across the dirt until his hand can reach your beloved pet.

Pippin

✧ "Whoa!" The sudden emergence of your cat's head from beneath the folds of your cloak startles the hobbit, who stumbles back a bit. "You know you've got a-" "Cat on my shoulder? As a matter of fact, I do," you answer with a grin.

✧ Happily takes over keeping your companion entertained, trying different methods of play like dragging sticks and dangling leaves to jump for.

✧ One day you catch Pippin fixing you with an odd sort of stare, tilting your head as you stroke your cat’s. Is he…jealous? Needlessly to say, later that night you find yourself running your fingers through curly hobbit hair instead.

✧ “Can I sleep with you? I- I mean the cat, by the-” “Of course you can, Pippin,” you just giggle.

✧ Tries his best to quit smoking around his little friend, ducking away and even sometimes flying up from his seat when he realizes his pipe’s curling product may be drifting the cat’s way.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @filiswingman @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1 @misabelle717 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @evattude @noodlesduck | Reply/Message/Ask to join 🖤

[p0ssywhippedcream]

a/n; totally just rewatched s1ep3 of the 100 and it shows (the inspo scene w Atom, Clarke and Bellamy made me bawl HARD). TW for animal death and the usual criminal minds gore/death talk.

The day Hotch falls in love with you is dark and cold, but your presence alone lightens it. A case drags your team to the wilderness of the foggy Appalachians, the unsub leaving a string of bodies through the mountains and across state lines. So far, 23 of them had been located.

Your team had been split, duos of you all tackling different perspectives. JJ and Morgan at the sheriffs office, Emily and Rossi interviewing families and Reid focusing on the online footprint with Garcia, who was not happy to be physically present instead of in her Batcave.

That left you and Hotch to miserably trudge through the winding hills, surrounded by deputies and trees as far as the eye can see. It’s a cool day, wind chill gusting through your zippered jacket as you follow the path that had previously unearthed corpses. Hotch is silent at your side, the two of you deep in thought as you make your way down to the river bed now claimed by an aura of death.

You walk along the bay, flat stones shine in the rushing water and leaves crunch beneath your feet.

“How many?” You breath out, voice an octave above a squeak. “How many more are we going to find here?”

Hotch’s dark eyes find yours when you turn your gaze to his intense face. “Too many.”

You nod, dropping your sight back to your feet and walk another step before halting suddenly. The man at your side freezes a pace in front of you, spinning to question your pause when he notices you squating down.

“Another body?” He asks gravely, ready to signal to a nearby officer when you make a choked noise.

“No,” You look up at him through thick eyelashes and he sees the quivering mammal at your feet, “It’s a squirrel.”

He kneels with you, the fabric of his pricey suit the last thing on his mind as it rubs in the dirt.

He watches you glove yourself and lift its bloodied limbs, examining the creature for the source of its misery. When you find the puncture marks at its torso and see how deep they go, your heart deflates. Another life you can’t save.

You know enough that the pain must be unbearable, and the squirrel would suffer for atleast another hour before death would naturally come. With a heavy sigh, you reach into your back pocket and retrieve your switch blade.

Hotch watches you flick it open, brain at the same conclusion and lips set in a line as he waits for you to take mercy. Instead, his eyes widen a nudge when you begin to hum.

With your left hand, you stroke the creatures head gently as your right holds steady to your blade. Your throat murmurs a soft lullaby, a song your mother used to sing to put you to sleep seeping into the air.

“You’re okay,” You whisper, bringing your knife down and hovering just above its shaking form, “I’ve got you, you’re okay.”

Swift and careful, you darken the steel with the little blood left in the squirrels body. You continue to hum, love and compassion in your saddened voice as you pet the critter until its breath ghosts its mouth no more.

You lose a weighted lungful, the pressure of it in your chest almost unbearable. “You’re okay.” You say one last time, running a finger down the creatures spine, missing the look in Hotch’s eye as he observes your treatment. He spent the whole time with his vision set on you; not because he couldn’t handle the sight of death but because watching your kind heart weep through your actions bent his in a strange way. A familiar tug in his chest, one he hadn’t felt since Hailey, kept his eyes locked on you as you took the pain from the woodland soul and added it to the mountain of your own.

Hesitantly, a large hand finds your shoulder and you look up from your mourning to see your boss’s brows knit in care, intense pupils warming you with a comfort you’d never felt from him.

“I’m okay,” You reassure, a slight smile falters at attempting to take your lips. Hotch nods, a squeeze of your jacket and he retreats his touch.

Neither of you speak as you stand, go through the motions of discarding your gloves into the trash and continue on down the trail. Words rumble in your head behind closed lips, worries regarding the case buzz violently like a provoked bee hive, your brain frantic to find hope for life in the ever-deepening void of despair. Hotch keeps a trained eye on you, out of concern and also a bit from this new feeling that burrows in his ribcage.

A shout from a nearby blue-coat informs your duo of the discovery of a new corpse, prompting conversation again between the two of you as you race over.

You come to halt in front of the body. She’s fresher than others, you can see the lines of smiles on her face and youth in her skin. Her blonde hair matted with red like the squirrel you’d just encountered. You think of the pain it takes to be alive, the pain death takes when it comes to an end. You know she suffered, and it makes you grow a headache thinking of all these people hurting for the same sadistic demon.

“She doesn’t suffer anymore.” You look up, Hotch is already looking at you with an unreadable expression. He knows what you’re thinking just from the divot of your teeth in your lip. “Sometimes, that’s all we can tell ourselves.”

Your aching heart swells, the blood pumps a little easier. You nod and take a full breath for the first time in 20 minutes.

“And the man who did this will feel their pain for the rest of his life, when we put him away.”

You feel the effort behind each word, knowing Hotch is a man of few, and it makes inspecting the body easier, makes the search through freezing fog more worth the dreadful discoveries . The day you fall in love with Hotch is gray and cold, but he warms it with the fire of his tongue and the hearth of softness in his eyes.

[fxlling13]

Spooky Season

Dh!Master x (fem)!reader

Wc:2.8k

Fluff fluff fluff.

Synopsis: The Doctor takes everyone to a cosy little pumpkin farm

“You make me laugh, (y/n).” Yaz scoffed as you walked into the console room. “It’s September the first, and you’re wearing a pumpkin sweater?” She laughed, leaning back on the console. You nod quickly, standing at the top of the steps.

“Of course! September first is the start of spooky season.” You explained, sitting a few stairs down. The pair of you giggled, she knew of your love for the ‘ber’ months. In fact, she helped you indulge in it, getting you a themed blanket the year prior.

“Do you think The Doctor will let me decorate my room here?”

“Oh yeah, she loves fun things. Not sure she’ll be a fan of all the black though.” Yaz realised, thinking for a moment. “It’s fine, you can bond with Mr Grumpy!” She beamed, making your brows crease.

“Mr Grumpy?” You asked with amusement, knowing full well who she was referring to.

“Well, he is moody.” Yaz chuckled. “But he loves dark and gloomy things. He dresses like a gothic vampire most days, in that Victorian coat.”

“It looks good though.” You mumbled and Yaz shook her head at you. Just then, The Doctor jogged into the room with a big smile on her face.

“Ah, you’re both here already!” She stood by Yaz, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Talking about anything interesting?”

“Just (y/n)’s love for autumn.” Humming in acknowledged, the blonde smiled at you.

”Yeah? Lots happen at the end of the year on earth, Halloween. Christmas.” She recalled, looking up at the ceiling in wonder.

“Halloween is the best!” You clarified, making the girls laugh a bit more. From nowhere, hands landed on your shoulders with a jolt.

“Boo.” A deep voice spoke loudly by your ear at the same time. You yelped, flinching violently. When you glanced back, you found The Master leering proudly.

“What? You just said you liked Halloween.” He shrugged, walking past you down the steps. Once at the bottom, he turned back to you and nod to himself slowly.

“Nice jumper.” He commented, your lips turning up again. You were wearing a black jumper, with different sized pumpkins sewn throughout. They were all odd styles and colours.

“Thank you.” For a minute, he froze, before pulling himself away and looking at the others.

“So what sappy place are you taking us today?” The Master asked, hoping no one had noticed his odd behaviour. The Doctor ran around the console.

“Well, considering the topic of this morning. How about a farm?” She suggested, already flicking buttons and other controls.

“A farm?” Yaz frowned.

“Yeah! With a pumpkin patch!” She boasted, making the girl smile again.

“Really?” You stood up hopefully.

“Yeah. It’ll be great. We can get as many as you guys want. Oh! And there’s a cafe there so we can get food!” Clearly, she was more excited about the idea than even you were. Still, you nod happily. The Tardis landed with a thud, sending everyone flying. You tumbled down the steps, The Master easily catching you. Holding under your arms, he smiled cockily.

“Falling for me?” You went red, pulling away fast.

“In your dreams.”

“Ok you two, stop flirting. Pumpkins to pick!” Yaz chortled, not helping your flushed state at all. Shaking her head, The Doctor pulled Yaz outside with a huff. The Master, still smiling, extended his hand towards you. You raised your eyebrows.

“Come on, you can at least hold my hand right? Or is that too much?” He joked, but you held his hand regardless, allowing him to guide you out of the tardis. It was sunny outside, but not too warm with a small breeze. Having landed in a woodland area, your small group walked for a few minutes before seeing the white farm building. The chipped walls were enough to tell you just how old it was, sat on vast, lush land. There were animals dotted around some of the fields, a path heading up a small hill. Upon getting to the farm, you were greeted by an old lady.

“Here for the pumpkin festival dears?” She inquired, face filled with joy. There were many others already there, mostly families and couples.

“Yep.” Yaz stepped forwards, pulling out her phone and paying for your tickets. Being let through, you walked by her side, tugging the male along.

“You didn’t have to pay for us all.”

“It’s fine. Lunch is on you.” She chuckled, nudging you playfully. But you smiled, happy with that arrangement. Traipsing up the shallow hill, you came to find the pumpkin patch. Surrounded by a worn, dark oak fence, it had a wooden arch as its entrance. On a big sign above, “pumpkins here” was written in cursive, expertly done. Rows of the root grown plant went on far and wide, people of all ages trying to find the perfect one.

“We’ll meet you down by the cafe.” Yaz said, hastily taking the Doctor off in a random direction.

“And then there were two.” The Master drawled, looking down at you.

“Awe don’t sound so happy. I know you love me really.” You elbowed him gently, walking ahead into the vast amounts of orange and green. He watched you for a minute, unaware that he was smiling. Turning back, you tilted your head. “Come on!” You reached out, the man chuckling and joining you swiftly. He followed behind you, your hair swishing with every step.

“We have to find the most round, most plump, most orange pumpkins to carve.” You said with certainty, scanning your surrounding area.

“Hm. If you say so.” The Master started walking by your side. “Why plump?”

“So I can use the innards to bake.” You clarified.

“You said that so…threateningly.” He laughed, placing a hand on your back as you both went along. Leaning closer to the man, you felt more relaxed that way.

“That one!” You almost yelled, carefully running between the vines. The Master observed you with fondness, going at a much more casual pace.

“This one?” He asked, standing opposite you. You nod, eyeing the large pumpkin. “It’s massive, (y/n).”

“Exactly. It’s perfect!” When you smiled at him, he was already doing the same. There was a look in his eye that you just couldn’t describe, almost like he was entranced. Trying not to get flustered from his intense gaze, you moved to pick the pumpkin up. In a flash, The Master was behind you, his hands on your waist and stopping you from bending. Your cheeks went red, looking back at him with a bashful confusion.

“You’re wearing a skirt.” He stated simply, not letting you go. “There’s lots of men around here.”

“There’s girls too.” You pointed out, a slight wobble in your inflection. Humming, he turned you to face him and brushed your hair back.

“Statistically, men are more likely to be predatory. And I don’t really want other men looking at you like that.” The Master spoke sternly, making your blush worsen.

“So you tell me what it is you’ll like, and I’ll do the lifting. Okay?” It was more of an instruction than a question, but you bobbed your head regardless. Grinning, he kissed your head sweetly, before bending down and cutting the stalk carefully. Still in shock, you just gawked at the noirette. Once the pumpkin was free, he lifted it with ease.

“Wait, other men?” You realised what he said, eyes shooting to him once again. He just shrugged nonchalantly.

“See any others you like, dear?” Your heart was hammering in your chest, all the while he seemed unfazed. Shaking your head, you started looking around once again. When your head was turned, you couldn’t hide your shy smile.

———

Three pumpkins and a wheelbarrow later, the two of you went to pay. There was a small gazebos at the top of the hill you had climbed. A man stood inside, with his cash box and weighing scale. The Master wheeled the pumpkins to him, greeting the man quietly. Going to pull out your phone, he stopped you quickly.

“I dropped something.”

“What?” You were perplexed.

“Outside, I’m pretty sure I did.” He said, hands searching his coat.

“What do you even own?” You asked and he just gave you a serious look. Realising it may have been some sort of weapon, you rolled your eyes before looking at the man. “I’ll be two seconds.” You apologised before heading back outside. After scouring the area nearby, you found nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing at all. Even with all the children around, the grass was clear. “Ready to meet the others?” You jumped, finding The Master, and wheelbarrow, now behind you.

“Hey I haven’t paid yet.”

“No. I did.” He shrugged, placing a hand on his hip. Your face softened, taking a few steps forwards.

“You did?” You asked bewildered, struggling to keep up as he made his way back down the hill.

“Yep. Do you think people will take them if we leave them out here?”

“Huh? Oh no. They have the red stickers on them.” You answered still confused, watching as he left them by the entrance to the cafe.

“Yes but humans are conniving and selfish.” He spat, earning a hurt look from you. Letting out a breath, The Master moved and cupped your cheeks. “You don’t count, obviously.” You couldn’t help your smile, leaning into his hand contently.

“Thank you, for buying them.”

“You’re welcome, sweets.” He laced your fingers together, guiding you into the cafe. It wasn’t a very big building, but spacious enough that it was cozy. With a cracking fire on the back wall, rustic brick walls and old wooden floors, you loved it. The Master took you to the table right by the fire, allowing you to sit closest to it. You smiled widely, shuffling closer to him once he sat too.

“How long do you think the others will be?” You pondered, admiring the paintings in the room.

“No idea, you know how The Doctor is. She’s like a magpie.” He muttered, picking up a menu and letting out a breath. After a moment of internal debating, you rested your head on his shoulder. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind at all, adjusting so you could see the menu too.

“I think you’ll want this page.” He flipped to the other side, showing you the different cakes, bakes, cookies and more. Pressing your cheek to his arm, you giggled quietly.

“You know me so well.” You commented, eyes flittering over all the options.

“Of course, I do notice these things.” The Master said, looking at you proudly. Pressing your lips together, you suppressed your happiness badly.

“You’re quite sweet. Even with all the evil plans you have.”

“Ah, but you’re always safe with me, are you not?” He pointed out, clearly smug.

“Of course I am.” Hugging onto his arm, you began to feel doubt and nerves creep into your mind. Even though he didn’t seem to mind, you found yourself asking, “Doesn’t it bother you?”

“What?”

“Well, I know you’re not a very touchy, affectionate person. And I am. So does it not bother you? That I’m like this?” You kept your eyes on the table as you spoke, on the different shades of wood-stain used. Tentatively, The Master tilted your chin up trying to meet your gaze.

“It’s different when it’s you.” He reassured, thumbing the apple of your cheek. “My emotional support human.” You blushed, lips twitching up slightly. “Plus, you’re different. You’re spooky. I like it.”

“Like a witch?” You beamed, back to your normal self.

“No, you’re far prettier than a witch.” He chuckled, causing you to cover your face in embarrassment.

“What have we walked in on then?” The Doctors voice came from nowhere, but you were unmoved. Huffing in annoyance, the male just looked at her bored.

“Nothing. Hurry up and look at the menu. We’re hungry.”

“Alright calm down.” Yaz laughed, looking along with the blonde. “Oh I don’t know.” She mumbled, rereading it again.

“You’ll get something warm, like soup.” Both women looked at him with surprise.

“Yeah you’re right I was going to. How did you know that?” Yaz almost laughed again, letting The Doctor take the menu for herself.

“Because you always do. Just Like The Doctor will get the custard tart.”

“Oh custard tart!” The Doctor beamed at the exact time The Master said it. She looked over at him with a faux glare. You giggled, watching them interact.

“See, I’m very attentive.” The Master boasted, subtly bringing you closer as he moved. Sadly, he had to stand up. “Shall we do the ordering?” He asked his old friend, to which she nod and got to her feet.

“Wait I didn’t even tell you what I picked.” You said quickly, sitting straight. Simpering, he just pat your head twice then went to the counter with The Doctor.

“He’s so into you.” Yaz spoke, gaining your full attention. You blushed, shrugging softly.

“You think so?”

“Even The Doctor knows, (y/n).” She pointed out, putting the sugar jar in front of her girlfriend’s place ready. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. “Look at you. You’re lovesick.”

“Oh stop it.” You shot back weakly, earning a chortle from her. Turning around, you observed the aliens in such a human setting with fondness. “Can I be a bridesmaid?” She asked, resting her head on her hands. You just scoffed returning to face her.

“Only if I can be for you too.”

“Oh, of course. Who else would I pick?” The pair of you laughed together, unaware of the others coming back. The Doctor carefully placed a tray on the table, sliding it into the middle.

“What are you two giggling about?” She questioned, sitting once again.

“Nothing important.”

“Yeah nothing for you two to know about.” You confirmed, The Master taking his seat next to you.

“Yet.” Yaz finished, causing another fit of laughs. The time lords exchanged looks, as if speaking through osmosis. Humming, the man put a teapot in front of you, along with a mug and small pot of milk.

“Whatever you say.” He murmured, your eyes lighting up when you saw the brownie he had gotten you.

“Before you ask, yes it’s been warmed up. And-“ he took a small dish and sat it next to your cup. “-cream to your liking.”

“Thank you.” You smiled happily, making yourself a nice cup of tea. The Doctor did indeed have a custard tart, as Yaz had a bowl of steaming tomato soup.

“You three and your sweet tooth’s.” Yaz rolled her eyes, buttering her bread. Turning your head, you saw that The Master had gotten himself a slice of cake. With a cherry on top too. A glacier cherry.

“Do you want it?” He suddenly asked, making you jump a bit. You furrowed your brows, him putting the sugary ‘fruit’ onto your brownie before you could speak.

“They’re more sappy than us.” The Doctor commented, adding multiple sugars to her brew.

“I know. And they’re not even dating.” Yaz added with a grin. You busied yourself with adding a bit of cream and nibbling on your brownie.

“Give us time.” The Master casually said, causing you to choke. He was quick to pat your back. “Easy love, I need you alive for that to happen.”

“Leave the poor girl alone.” The Doctor laughed, handing you a napkin. Your cheeks were bright red, heart racing as you wiped your mouth. Still, you were smiling, gazing up at The Master shyly. He smiled back, giving your nose an affectionate tap before sipping his coffee.

“So after here, let’s watch horror movies while we carve them yeah?” Yaz was sounding more autumnal now, eagerly suggesting her idea.

“That sounds perfect, what film?” The Doctor glanced at everyone there.

“I say The Exorcist.” The Master added his input, the group collectively groaning.

“Maybe after, on the sofa where we can all huddle up?” The blonde prompted, earning a reluctant nod.

“How about scream?” You recommended, getting a more positive reaction.

“Then it’s settled, what a great day this is ‘ay?” Even The Doctor was getting giddier than usual.

“See? It’s good to start celebrating spooky season early.” There was a snarky tone in your inflection, proving your earlier point to Yaz. Unbeknownst to you, The Master stared at you proudly, loving your cockiness.

“Fine, you were right.” She agreed, putting her spoon down before stirring her iced latte. “You two are like The Addams Family.”

“Oh I like that.” The Master leered, putting an arm around your shoulders possessively. Bashful, you leant into his hold and nod in approval. The four of you sat in close comfort, eating your food and drinking your seasonal drinks. Outside the wind was blustering, amber leaves falling from trees and making footsteps crunch. It really was the best time of the year.

[yarafic]

Imagine: Jeremy being your secret admirer and everyday he buys you strawberry milk

Everyday when you came to school, in your locker there is a letter and a bottle of your favorite milk. Question is who has been putting those letters and the bottle of milk.

You tied your best to figure out who is the admirer but you have not found who it was. You stayed after school to see if the admirer would leave something but you have not caught the said person. Even, you went to school very early to see if you will figure out who it was but nothing. You were getting sick and tired of not knowing who this secret admirer is.

You even asked Caroline and Stefan to see if they can help you figure out who. Sadly, the were both useless on helping you. Stefan said"that is the fun part about having a secret admirer. You question on who it is."

Do you think I am having fun? I am stressing over the fact that I want to figure out who this person is.

_________

(Third person p.o.v)

One early morning, Y/n's phone rang, she shift around her bed and pick up her phone with a huff of annoyance.

(Y/n is bold / Jeremy is italics)

Hello, the magnificent Y/n is speaking. How may I help you?

Soft chuckles were heard from the other end of the phone, she found the laugh peaceful. She can hear the laugh all day if she could.

Well,  hello the magnificent Y/n ! We do indeed need your help! Can you please hurry to the depth of hell and help our forsaken souls  from this horrendous situation?

So, you want me to go to school early to have a meeting with the rest of the gang? What is the situation this time?

You know the usual, Klaus stealing kids candy  and  bad people popping out guns.

I wouldn't have thought that Klaus would stoop that low.

It's Klaus!, he would kick a puppy if he saw one or worst he might even eat one.

The kicking I do believe  but not the eating one because that is Stefan job to eat poor innocent animals. I have a feeling that the woodland creature will gang up and take their revenge, therefore Stefan will pay for what he has done to their family

I can actually see this

Right!! Okay, I will see you in school. Bye!

Bye

They both hang up the phone, she got up from the comfort of her bed. She head  to the bathroom to take quick shower, when done, she changed into a pair of black ripped jeans, a back crop top and lastly her boots. She walked out of the door, yelling out a bye to her parents.

___________

When she arrived, she quickly dashed into the history room of Alaric's.

"What is the situation?" She said while looking at the people standing cowardly.

"We do not know what to do for Christmas!" Caroline shrieked.

Y/n put her hands on her hips and gave a what the fuck look. She rubbed her temples, wondering if this was the deadly, horrendous and terrifying situation that they need help. She stood there annoyed and iterated that they woke her up (way to early for her liking).

Y/n was about to turn around and leave but Jeremy blocked the entrance. He gave her a look signifying to stay, she nod her head and turns around.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" She huff out annoyed

Caroline smiled and said"Can you help me plan?"

She nod her head and ruffled her bangs, Stefan appeared and gave her a hug. She smiled and gave a look. He shook his head no, and she crossed her arms. She stomped out the door to her, when she did so, she heard the snickers of Stefan and Caroline.

"Y/n!" Someone yell out for her attention. She turn around and it was Jeremy, she stood there waiting for him to come near.

"I was wondering if you can help me with something." He said with his hands in the pockets of the hoodie

She curtsy and replied"Will do my lord."

He laughed and dragged her back to the classroom. They sat down and began talking, out of nowhere they began talking about their love life.

"Come on, there has to be someone that you are interested in!" Y/n exclaimed

Jeremy took a deep breath and shook his head no, he cleared his throat and murmurs"I am not going to tell you."

She sighs and shook her and went back to explaining how to solve the problem. A ring was heard, Jeremy picked up his phone and said that Elena was calling him. 

She sat there waiting for him, Y/n decided that it will the best time to do her History homework, She check her backpack to see if the history book is in there but it wasn't. She cursed under my breath, She got out of the classroom heading to locker to retrieve the book.  She stop to see that Jeremy was at her locker, with a paper bag in his hand. He pull out a glass bottle of strawberry milk, she smiled. He shook his head and turn around, when he notice her standing there; he paused and mumble words out that Y/n did not understand.

With a smile on her face she said"It was you all along."

[the-iceni-bitch]

𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖑𝖐𝖞 𝕭𝖊𝖉 𝖂𝖊 𝕾𝖎𝖌𝖍

𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝟺 - 𝙽𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚑 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝙼𝚊𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚏𝚏

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚙𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚢, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘�� 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜.

𝙰𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚢 ~ 𝙰 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚗'𝚜 𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚜.

𝙰𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜

Words: ~1.6k

Relationship: nymph!Wanda Maximoff x goddess of spring!reader

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (chase kink, food in a sexy scenario, analingus, body worship), sex outdoors, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all my latest fics, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

The clouds parted and the sun rose warm in the sky as your eyes at last fluttered open after your long slumber. It was finally time, your season, the awakening of the earth and the beginning of new growth. You slowly rose to your feet and breathed deep of the fresh spring air, looking out at the frozen land that was waiting to be rejuvenated by your touch.

As you began your trek down from your mountain you smiled warmly, hyacinths and irises and peonies blooming each place your feet met the earth while new green life spread across the land in front of you. Frost and ice broke away from the ponds and rivers when the sun’s rays reached them. Birds and animals chirped and sang, filling the air with the sweet sounds of rebirth as they rose from their winter hibernation and came to greet you. A lark fluttered around you with a symphony of twitters before landing on your outstretched hand, preening its feathers as it whistled before taking flight again.

By the time you reached the foot of your mountain the land was lush and green, the air filled with the verdant fragrances of spring that made you feel so alive and powerful. You took one more deep breath and spread your arms wide, beaming when the entirety of the land sprang to life at once and basking in the sunlight.

That was when you heard it. That lovely laugh that lilted like a song through the air. The murmuring splashes and soft singing of woodland nymphs as they bathed. It was her. Your love. The only thing aside from the growth of spring that you longed for during your time of sleep. As you came upon the still pool where the maidens bathed you felt your breath catch, the sunlight glittering on the surface of the water and on the flawless skin of your beloved when she rose from the depths with a beautiful sigh.

“Wanda!” You let out a delighted laugh when she turned to face you and blushed, her ginger hair flowing around her bare shoulders and her blue eyes sparkling with playful desire. “I see your thoughts, my love. If you run, I will catch you and drink my fill of your sweet pleasure.”

“My goddess…” she stretched her lithe, naked body and giggled when you let out a low sound of want, taking a few steps away from you towards the opposite end of the pond. “If I did not run, you would not love me as you do.”

That was the only warning you had before she took off at a sprint. You chuckled to yourself before beginning to pursue her, your steps fleet across the green earth and making trees and flowers spring up in your wake. Her laughter made your grin grow even wider. She was right, you did enjoy chasing her down before you lost yourself in the heady pleasures of her soft flesh.

Rivers and hills passed the both of you by as you chased her, the land sloping towards the sea as you moved further and further from your mountain. Her laughter was like music that rang through the valleys and forests, birds and animals joining her song as they rose from their winter sleep. Deer and foxes ran with your beloved, their cheerful yips and cries echoing her joy and only making your desire for her grow deeper. She was the embodiment of life and happiness, of everything that belonged to your season. And though she ran and played the shy coquette, she was yours.

Wanda’s voice was teasing and bright as she called your name over her shoulder, the sway of her hips enticing you to run after her even faster as she bent to pluck a sweet smelling hyacinth and breathe in its scent. She leapt over a brook and squealed when she felt the tips of your fingers graze against her heel, changing direction quickly so you could not catch her. You could smell her. Above even the scent of the new flowers you could smell the warm and fertile wetness between her thighs that called to you.

Though Wanda was quick, she was not as quick as you. But then, she did not truly wish to be. She squealed with glee when your hand wrapped around her knee and pulled her to the ground, her eyes bright when she beamed at you over her shoulder when you pounced on top of her. The rest of her playful noises were muffled by your lips as you bent to give her the most luscious of kisses, the sweetness of her plump lips making you moan into her mouth as you pressed her into the warm earth.

Wanda laughed lightly when you turned her onto her back and nibbled on the tip of her nose, her fingers teasing along the curve of your waist. Out of thin air a honeycomb appeared in your outstretched hand, the two of you sharing a pair of warm smiles before you pressed the comb to her lips and let her taste the sweetness of spring. Her eyes fluttered as you smeared the precious golden syrup all over her full lips and let it slither over her tongue and down her throat. Your lips were quick to chase the drops that escaped from the corners of her mouth, your tongue flicking out to trace the viscous trails left along her soft, pale skin.

You dragged the comb down her chin and then the slender column of her neck. You wanted her nubile body covered in honey, to taste the luscious flavor of her sweat mixed with the sweet syrup. When your tongue dipped into the hollow of her throat to lap up the golden nectar she sighed, making you grin when the soft sound of her pleasure made a smattering of asters bloom around her.

“My dear, sweet love,” your lips met Wanda’s skin between each word. “My beloved nymph,” the honey dribbled over the gentle swells of her breasts, followed closely by your eager tongue. “How I miss you when I slumber.”

“My goddess, oh!” Her sudden gasp when your lips brushed against her stiffened nipple made Olympus yarrow join the aster that was springing up in an ever growing ring around the two of you. “I have missed you too, so much…”

“I know.” The fragrance of the flowers and the warmth of the sun bathed the two of you in a haze of passion, Wanda’s breaths turning shallow and quick as your mouth left a wake of fire along her tapered waist. “Sing your song for me, my nymph.”

Wanda groaned when you turned her so she was laying on her stomach, biting her lip when you pressed the honeycomb to the firm skin of her back until she could feel the thick, sticky sweetness creeping down the curve of her spine. Your mouth ardently pursued the path of honey as your beloved whimpered and moaned, your teeth sneaking past the cushions of your lips to nip at the small of her back. The comb kept traveling lower and so did your mouth, worshiping her perfect, alabastrine skin as she spread her legs for you and arched her back. When Wanda felt your fingers opening her up and the warm honey dribbling over the dusky folds of her anus she gasped, her voice rising in timbre as your tongue fluttered and lapped at her sensitive flesh.

Her voice was musical and dulcet as you continued to lavish her body with passionate attention, your fingers and tongue leaving her sex covered in the syrupy evidence of your love for her. The pitch of her voice let you know that her mind was fully consumed by the pleasure you were giving her, her existence narrowed to only you and the pleasure you gave her as more spring growth bloomed around the two of you. Your tongue pushed past her tight ring of muscle at the same time your fingers slipped inside her pretty pussy and when she cried out softly you grinned against her.

Already you could tell your love was close, her staccato breaths and the way her toes and fingers curled letting you know just how lost in her pleasure she was truly. Every breath and sound she made was pure and primal, out of her control as she offered herself to you as a loving sacrifice for the new birth of spring. There was nothing on the earth for her except you and your touch, the unending ecstasy only you were able to give her. Your tongue and lips kept moving reverently against the most secret part of her as her body wound tighter and tighter, her slick inner walls clenching around your fingers while your thumb gently circled her swollen clitoris until she truly was singing for you.

Wanda screamed your name as she fell apart at your touch. It was more lovely than the singing of the birds or the falling rain, everything about your beloved was the epitome of beauty. You drank up her bliss gluttonously, catching every drop on your tongue before draping your body over hers so your head was resting on her shoulder. A glade had grown around the two of you as you pleasured your nymph, poppies and anemones surrounding a sparkling pond as the shade of a fig tree kept you cool. She rolled over and let her eyes flutter as you ran your fingers through her silky hair, her own fingers trailing along your side until she was tickling your hip.

“My goddess,” Wanda purred and bit her lip as she gazed at you with adoration. “It is your season, my beloved. Let me worship at your altar so you can give the earth new life.”

[klausysworld]

Can you do a yandere Klaus who is obsessed/infatuated with a wolf that can grow to the size of a mountain (on command) and turns human on a full moon rather than the other way around. The reader would have huge breasts, and they sometimes leak milk, causing Klaus to have huge breeding kink and lactation kink.

I’m assuming its meant to say ‘the size of a mountain lion’?? Idk maybe it can just grow ridiculously big

Be mine forever

Since living in New Orleans the Mikaelsons had learnt that the werewolves were cursed to only become human on the full moon.

And seeing as Klaus was part wolf who could turn on demand and was much stronger than your average werewolf, he didn’t have an issue with going for a little run around the woodlands every now and then.

And he was extremely glad he did so when he found her.

Her wolf was much larger than any wolf he had seen in the past. She had her home much further away from the other wolves, she had a cozy little den that she returned to every night. And every night he went to watch her, sometimes in wolf form as well and sometimes in human.

She knew he was there, she let him follow her, even let him come sit by her bed sometimes.

His hand would gently stroke her fur, travelling down her body slowly each time while her head rest in his lap.

“Such a good girl” he would murmur while she let him rub her chest and abdomen, when he would have her curled to him and whisper little things.

He found himself there as often as possible, something in him craving her. She was so soft and gentle for an animal so dangerous if she wanted to be. Her teeth could bite through bone if she wanted to and yet she let him look at this without snapping.

And on the first full moon he was there, he held her close while her cries echoed through the forest and she returned to her human form.

He certainly wasn’t expecting her to be quite so gorgeous when he looked down at her. Her curves were defined. Her breasts full and heavy as she drifted in and out if sleep in his arms. Her little whimpers only making his lust grow.

“You are utterly divine” he told her quietly making her smile

“Thank you, you’re very pretty too” she whispered with a deep blush and his heart soared at her voice

The first couple full moons he just sat with her and they spoke. He brought her some of his clothes to keep her warmer after becoming accustomed to a fur coat savouring her heat.

But each time he saw her, their desire for one another grew more and more. Whenever he got home from seeing her he was stood or sat in front of a painting of her human form, hand stroking himself faster and faster while he groaned loudly picturing her luscious body sliding against his.

He had found that if he applied pressure to her beautiful breasts accidentally or not, they would begin to lactate. At first she was embarrassed but then she noticed how his tongue wetted his lips, eyes trained on the little wet patches of her shirt.

His eyes briefly flicked to hers as he lifted her top. Her eyes became slightly wider as his thumbs circled her nipples, his hands pushing her breasts up gently and a soft groan leaving his lips as they began to leak.

Without hesitation he had lowered his head, latching onto her nipple and sucking lightly. Her mouth fell open as he drank contently, his hand squeezing gently to give him more. Her hand held the back of his head tentatively while his spare hand tenderly kneaded the other breast.

She let out soft, breathy moans as he suckled desperately for as long and he could, occasionally twitching sides to get the most milk he could.

Once sucking her nearly completely dry he trailed wet kisses up to her jaw, nipping gently to hear her whimper and whine. His lips collided with hers passionately, both of them relishing in each others love and gentleness. His hands held her face delicately as he poured his feelings into her, his tongue pushing past her soft lips enjoying her moan of appreciation as she pulled his head down to press against her firmly.

It wasn’t long until she was on her back, legs around his waist while he ground against her slowly.

Everything in him yearned for her, burned for her.

It were as though she were his god sent gift.

His hands kneaded at every inch of her body, desperately trying to memorise every detail. She whimpered softly as he kissed along her neck, slowly bringing them lower. His tongue licking at her swollen nipples making her moan weakly. He kissed down her stomach to her panty line. The panties he had bought for her, for when she turned human.

“I have only ever dreamed of this position” he breathed, his eyes flicking up to hers as her face flushed

“You…thought about this?” She asked, embarrassment flooding her

“Always, I want to be yours love, always and forever.” He whispered

“Klaus…” she uttered, her heart swelling as she looked at his hopeful face “I’m only a wolf” she told him “i cannot be with you like you want…i have to turn back in a matter of hours” she reminded

“I’ve got witches looking for a cure, you can be human nearly all the time, only a wolf on the full moon, we can be together everyday” he promised

“All the other wolves in Jacksons pack have been cured…I don’t think I’m meant to be more human than wolf“ she muttered, he pulled back, pulling her onto his lap and tilting his head down to look at her

“Do you want to stay a wolf? I can turn and be with you if that’s what you would prefer” he offered, his hands moving to cup her face, the warmth of his hands making her sigh and lean to his touch

“I want to be human with you…I just don’t want false hope…for either of us” she told him, her eyes looking down shyly

“We will be together, love, I promise you” he whispered, leaning down to connect his lips with hers, both their eyes falling shut as they stays in each others embrace.

He kept ahold of her even after she had turned back, the silent-ongoing promise that they would be together soon.

He kept up his visits, as well as searching for a spell to grant her free will of the turn.

It wasn’t difficult to tell that Klaus was completely in love.

Even his siblings knew he had someone, obviously they weren’t aware who but it was clear he had somebody.

Nobody was allowed in his art room anymore, ever.

He returned home each morning much happier.

Now originally they assumed he was just getting laid but his mood was always rather high. Sketch book in hand as he doodled away. Course then he started humming tunes and smiling to himself. And then he had witches involved searching for something. Clearly his love was in need of something special. None of them dared to ask, simply happy with his upbeat attitude.

By the next full moon, he finally had it.

He rushed through the forest supernaturally fast. Quickly following the sound of her weak cries. He was much later than he usually was, he had been getting the last ingredient for the spell.

He was in front of her in the matter of seconds, lifting her drowsy human body into his hold

“I have it my love” he whispered pulling her to him. He pulled the little bottle out from his jacket pocket and brought it to her lips

“Drink love, you will wake tomorrow as human…and every day after that” he told her with a bright smile, she looked up to him with a look of pure admiration.

“Klaus…are you sure?” She asked, hope shining within her as he nodded

“I’m certain” he ensured “now please, be mine forever” he whispered, utterly delighted when she tilted her head back to accept the potion, welcoming their future with open arms.

[some-bunniii]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 A crown for a princess

[by helloruirui on tumblr, colored by me]

Just my OC Kokabiel and her daughter making some pretty crowns.

I’ve had this scene written in my drafts about these two for a bit now, so I commissioned this nice piece as a visualization for it. Read more under the snippet!

Spring is the season when nature finally begins to breathe again. The animals awaken from their deep slumber, and the wildflowers begin anew and rise from the soil like a phoenix from the ashes.

Nestled deep into the mountains, far from the bustling human civilizations, was a lush forest not too far from a small, homey village.

Large swathes of open meadows snaked across the lush woodland, which was dappled with sunlight that managed to squeeze through the thick canopy of leaves.

Bright yellow flowers dotted the warmly lit grassy expanse. They danced along with the gentle breeze that whistled a natural tune as it blew through the clearing.

Small fingers wrapped around the stem of a dandelion, pulling it from the ground and lifting it towards a small girl’s nose.

She looked no older than seven, dressed in a dark blue tunic. Her rich, brown skin stood out from the greenery around her, and those tight, white braids that bounced across her shoulders were equally perplexing.

After inhaling the flora’s scent, the young child lifted another object into view. Stems of weeds and other wildflowers, intricately braided together to create a wreath-like adornment.

With careful fingers, she wove the dandelion into the braided stems, its yellow flower joining the array of colors of other blooming plants in her grasp.

She inspected the object in her hands, testing it for weakness. After feeling satisfied with her work, she turned towards the middle of the clearing and rushed off.

“Mama, Mama! Look!” The girl called, running toward a young woman sunbathing against a stump, her eyes closed and head upturned towards the sky as she drank in the warmth of the afternoon.

Her appearance was almost identical to the child’s, with the same deep, brown skin and long, white hair. Her hair was braided into thick locs that flowed down her back and reached the grass beneath her bare feet.

Freckles of white were sprinkled across her cheeks like starlight, hardly visible against the suns bright rays. Her eyes void of color, black like the sky during a new moon. A stark contrast to the woman’s ghostly white pupils, like twin moons shining from her gaze.

The golden halo that levitated just above her forehead shimmered in a warm, ethereal light.

An angel, sent down to take disguise and watch over the human’s constantly expanding population. A watcher, her superiors called it.

Kokabiel had been assigned a small village in the mountains, far from the bustling communities and away from watchful, angelic eyes that tracked her fellow watcher’s every moment.

She had kept her identity a secret, carefully crafted to hide her otherworldly appearance.

That didn’t stop the young girl from telling the village children that her mother came from the stars, but they never believed her.

Kokabiel’s eyelids fluttered open, her gaze shifting to follow her daughter’s approach as she straightened against the stump of an ancient, forgotten oak.

She shifted to sit on her knees as her daughter reached the flattened clearing of grass, the braided wreath tight in her little hands as she came to sit beside her mother.

“Look! I made a halo, just like yours!” She hovered the wreath just above her head, as if it was floating in midair, “Now, I can come along when you go back to Heaven.”

A soft chuckle escaped the angel’s lips, as she tilted her head at the display.

The child was too innocent to know, too naive to understand that the heavenly light above shined with such malevolence toward her existence.

“I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that, my love,” She shook her head with a smile.

The young girl visibly deflated, a frown etching onto her features as she sighed. The wildflower arrangement began to lower to the ground, before another set of hands reached out and gently grasped around the wreath.

“But, I think…” Kokabiel started, lifting it delicately above the girl’s head, before lowering it snug around her forehead, “You’d look much better as a princess, anyway.”

The soft settles tickled the girl’s forehead, and she giggled softly at sensation as gentle hands continued to adjust the crown.

“There, doesn’t that look much nicer?” Kokabiel nodded approvingly, lowering her hand from the crown to stroke her daughter’s cheek lovingly.

That smile brightened on the girl’s face, who then fell slowly against the grass. She stared up at the clouds that passed above the large forest, and Kokabiel settled against the stump once more.

“Will you take me flying tonight?” The girl spoke after a few moments, placing her palms together in a praying motion, as she pleaded through her gaze.

“I don’t see why not,” her mother shrugged in response.

That earned gleeful noises from her daughter, who pivoted to lay on her stomach and rest her chin against her hands.

“Oh, I wish I had wings like yours. That way, I could fly with you wherever you go, even back up there!”

“Oh, my little star,” the woman purred, lifting a hand to wipe away a small smudge of dirt from the child’s face, “You won’t ever need wings, because i’ll always be down here, with you.”

“You mean like forever?” The girl whispered with building glee, leaning in closer with a small smile, “You promise?”

“Of course! A century would pass and I would still be here to sing you to sleep,” Kokabiel nodded with a large smile, before her fingers wrapped around her daughter’s forearms and pulled her flush into the warmth of her chest.

“Mama, my crown!” The little girl gasped, pushing away from the woman to adjust the lopsided weave of stems back snugly onto her head.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” The angel moaned dramatically, clutching her chest, before a wicked grin graced her features, “I only wanted to… tickle the princess’s feet!”

Gripping her daughter’s ankle, Kokabiel lifted it into the air. Her nails skimmed across the sensitive skin at the bottom of the girl’s foot, who convulsed with laughter as she tried to playfully fight off her mother’s attack.

Deep in the meadow, the two would spend hours of bliss in each other’s company, unaware of the face hidden among the tall branches of the surrounding tree line.

Their halo shimmered against the darkness of the woods, and after a few moments, a pair of large, white wings extended across the canopy. It only took a few moments for them to lift into the air, and shoot off into the sky to report back to their heavenly superiors.

Oh, if only they could have known how easily a century on Earth could turn into an eternity in Hell.

Do you think, if the two have sworn through pinkies, that their promise could have outlived Heaven’s wrath?

*‘deep in the meadow’ starts to play*

Angelic kokabiel reveal, who still holds the same grace but lacks the snakes.

i’ve been working on more lore for koko, and developing some original concepts regarding heaven/hell/biblical stuff.

I think her daughters name is going to be Calliope, it’s a name that sticks in my brain for some reason but i’ve been trying to name along with the theme of stars/space, but can’t find anything that I like.

she is also a nephilim (mix of human and angel) and that’s a big no no to Heaven

i’ve got more little snippets + some more art of these guys hidden in my drafts that i may share down the road. but take another sketch of her pre-fallen!

[by hachii_ro on twt]

[marsprincess889]

NAKSHATRAS AS GODDESSES

5/27

🌙Mrigashira🦌

DISCLAIMER: This is based solely on my research and the patterns that I saw. I can't promise that I'm gonna be sure in all the coorelations, but I'm going to attribute each nakshatra a goddess that I think fits it the closest. If you're dissapointed, to make up for it, I'm going to list some other deities in the end that I think also fit the nakshatra. Don't come for me if you think I'm wrong, be respectful in the comments if you think so and have fun 🤍

This one is more of a collection of very similar goddesses who are all pretty much well-suited for Mrigashira. I still chose the principal goddess, although it was very hard to focus on only one.

Flidais

Pantheon: Celtic

Name meaning: soft-haired, fair haired.

Associations: Hunting, woodlands, wild animals, cattle, deer.

Symbols: deer

Flidais is a somewhat obscure Celtic goddess of the hunt. She's similar to more famous goddesses: Artemis and Diana, but unlike them, she's not a virgin and her story is different.

The mythology of Mrigashira is about how the seeming perfection of Rohini (the union of sexes) gets shattered. It's the birth of seduction and pursuit between the sexes, this is the place where Eve eats the forbidden fruit and becomes aware that she's separate from the male, not just something to be placed under his submission, as she was in Rohini. In Hindu mythology, when Rohini realizes that she's desired by Brahma, she turns into a doe and flees. Brahma then turns into a deer and chases her, before his head is cut off by God Rudra (God of the next nakshatra_ Ardra), thus, the deers's head being Mrigashira's symbol.

The story of goddess Flidais goes like this: She's unhappily married to a man she dies not love, feeling stuck and not knowing what to do, until another man appears, with whom she shares a deep love. He gets challenged by Flidais's husband, and he wins. As a reward, he gives deer and cattle to Flidais, for her to have something on her own, placing his faith in her. In one myth, she's said to have transformed into a stag.

Flidais has a surname, Foltcháin, meaning "beautiful(soft) hair". Mrigashira belongs to a clan of nakshatras called Pulastya (smooth haired).

Besides Flidais, there are other goddesses that can be coorelated to Mrigashira. One of them is Dali- Georgian goddess of the hunt, deer and other horned wild animals. She's said to have beautiful, long golden hair and is the Goddess that governs the rules of the hunt. Either completely nude or dressed only in white, she frequently mated with humans as she wished, just like the female in Mrigashira awakening to her own sexual power. She was said to be unbelievably beautiful, both irresistible and terrible. Dali was harsh with those who violated her rules. She lived in a cavern in a mountain. Parvati, the goddess that was born under this nakshatra, was the goddess of mountains, among other things.

There is also a story about a celtic maiden named Sadhbh, who refused to accept a Druid's advances and because of that, was cursed to be a doe. After three years, the serving man of that druid took pity on her and said that if she were ever to set foot in the dún (castle, fort) of the Fianna of Ireland, the curse would be lifted. Fianna were small bands of warrior-hunters in Ireland during the Iron age and early middle ages. Sadhbh travelled straight to a house that belonged to a Fionn. She was found by him as a doe when he was out hunting. His dogs didn't harm her since they too had been humans before. When they returned to the house, Sadhbh was once again a beautiful girl. They got married.

After Fionn was called to battle against the Vikings, the druid reached Sadhbh and laid the same curse on her, again. Fionn spent several years searching for his wife, but without success. At the end of those seven years he found a wild boy in the forest who said he was raised by a doe. Fionn looked at his face and recognising his wife's features, he realised that he was looking at their son. The boy was Oisín, a famous figure in Irish mythology.

Another interesting deity is the Albanian goddess Zana- goddess of the mountains. Zana were said to be fairies who lived in the mountains and bathed in waterfalls and river streams in nature. They're said to have a very brave character that was known to all. She's a somewhat obscure goddess given her name comes from the name of a creature, but I thought that she was interesting nontheless.

I want to talk about Mrigashira's ruling deity- the moon god Soma. Soma is also known to be the exilir of immortality. Mrigashira's power is to give fulfillment, so to drink Soma, to eat the forbidden fruit, to attain something not everyone has access to is risky, but it's worth the risk. Mrigashira is also associated with quests, adventures and bravery (just like Bharani, the other Venus-Mars ruled nakshatra). The real life natives of Mrigashira are often daring and inquisitive, always craving something else besides what they have.

The moon god being Mrigashira's deity makes me think that Artemis- Greek goddess of the moon, hunting, deer and other wild animals is a great fit for it, but her virginal nature is not in alignment with Mrigashira. If we think of her virginity as simply her being unmarried and independent, then she definitely can be coorelated to Mrigashira. The same goes for Diana- her Roman equivalent.

Some other deities I coorelated to Mrigashira other than Flidais:

Artemis- Greek goddess of hunting, deer, wild animals, the Moon and virgins.

Diana- The Roman equivalent of Artemis.

Dali- Georgian goddess of hunting, deer and other horned wild animals.

Zana- Albanian fairy goddess of the mountains.

Sadhbh- Irish doe-maiden goddess

Cernnunos- Celtic horned god, the god of wild things.

This is it for Mrigashira. I'm very happy I found the Goddesses whose mythologies were so obviously similar to Mrigashira's. As I said, it was hard to choose just one, but I think that I made the right choice, given that Flidais ticked off the most similarities. I'm consistently fascinated by the coorelations between seemingly unrelated cultures and this one was big. It's also my sun, rahu and saturn placement, so no pressure there lol.

Anyways, let me know what you think. Like COMMENT AND REBLOG, please interact with me if you found this interesting. Love you, and take care 🤍🤍🤍

[oddberryshortcake]

Twst analysis & theory- General Lilia and the Seeker of Cradles

In chapter 7 part 3, MC dreams about when Maleficent’s goons tell her that they can’t find Aurora, they also dream about Aurora being told she’s a princess by the three good fairies, but the most important connection I’ve made is what General Lilia Vanrouge and the other dark fae soldiers were doing in the woods during Lilia’s dream. 

I think the dream is of a memory of when Lilia first found baby Silver, or rather, searched for. 

Maleficent’s goons (two of whom Lilia is based on design-wise and also is emulated on his helmet) are tasked with finding baby Aurora so Maleficent can make sure her curse comes to fruition. 

It’s very obvious now that Silver is twisted from Aurora. We know he was “found” abandoned in the woods, that he was found with a beautiful ring in the shape of Aurora’s crown, and has been associated with Aurora’s aesthetic and woodland friends since the beginning of the game. 

He’s most likely a lost prince, either deliberately left for his safety or because something awful has already happened to his parents.

The fae and humans of Briar Valley do not get along. It’s understandable that there are tensions between the two, and there’s a history of conflict. 

It’s possible Malleus’s grandmother knew Silver was a human prince and, whether in war or an act of revenge, wanted Silver killed or cursed and sent soldiers and the Nightmare General Vanrouge to go find him. 

There’s a chance Lilia could hate humans during the time that the dream takes place, or he could be saying such to save face around the other guards/to please Maleficia. 

Either way, Lilia’s newest title names him the “Seeker of Cradles,” and I believe he and the other guards are doing just that. (X)

That brings me more towards theorizing and taking elements from Sleeping Beauty and connecting it to the unfolding plot. 

Lilia is out here on a search to find and possibly harm Silver…But obviously he doesn’t do that. 

He has a change of heart, or maybe he had always planned on saving Silver from harm’s way. 

He raises Silver alone in a cottage located in the middle of nowhere. Silver grows up isolated, only ever interacting with Sebek and Malleus. He recently confirms in his Broomquet vignette that he literally has no idea what goes on in the city of his own country because he’s always lived deep in the woods…Just like Aurora. (X) (notice Aurora overlooking the castle town, the same view Silver describes from his home)

Lilia seems to purposefully keep Silver in one place, with the exception of bringing him to NRC (something I’m sure he or Malleus had to arrange.) Lilia wanted Silver to enjoy Halloween as humans do, but instead of letting him interact with other humans, he trick or treated alone with Lilia, walking around their cottage. 

This is similar to how Aurora grew up isolated and alone in her own cottage with the three good fairies. They also discouraged her from interacting with other people and just like Silver, she relied on animals to be her companion. 

Lilia himself has greatly changed his appearance, from his hairstyle, hair color, and also his voice. He claims that he’s leaving the Valley to go into retirement and to avoid orders from Maleficia; we know his magic is draining- but how much of that could’ve been attributed to protecting Silver?

The good fairies made themselves humans in order to best protect Aurora, could that Lilia’s goal as well?

Silver is already theorized to be cursed, so how much of Lilia’s magic went to keeping that curse at bay? 

How much of Lilia’s magic went to keeping Silver safe? Keeping him away from the prying eyes of fae who hate humans? Who wants this innocent little prince dead?

How much of Lilia’s magic went into changing his appearance? To make a distinct difference between the general and loyal servant of the Draconia family and a loving fae father to a human child. 

I could be super wrong about all of this, but when I see the similarities, I can’t help but just think further and try to discover all the secrets. 

Genuinely hoping that I’m right about Lilia’s dream being about finding Silver. I hope we get to see Lilia become a father, and I hope Lilia has been doing everything he can to protect Silver and not because he wants to do something nefarious with him. As if he hasn’t and isn’t going to suffer enough. 

tldr- Lilia is searching for Silver under Maleficia’s orders, likely to harm him, but gets a change of heart and raises Silver in secrecy to protect him in his dream.

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Let’s Tell Bedtime Stories! 

“Hi friends! I’m Amanda! It’s time for the final part of our Super Slumber Party Marathon!” she beams. 

“You just made that up didn’t you?” 

“Shut up.” She hisses. “And TODAY I’m going to tell Wooly a story!” 

“Oooooh! What story?” 

Amanda pauses and takes a deep breath. “The story of the Cats, the owl, and the mouse. There-”

“There once was a tree of knowledge where a beautiful and wise owl lived.”

“Narrator?” Amanda mumbles. 

“She had a kind heart and wanted to share knowledge with the world.  She wanted her tree to grow more and more, so more and more people could find the knowledge they sought. But over time the woodland animal’s love for knowledge began to shrink more and more. And the owl became sad.” the Narrator explains. Riley is prompted to pause the tape. They turn around and suddenly there is a puppet stage behind them. There is nothing on the stage. But on the table next to it, sits a wooden tree, a metal cage, and a stuffed owl, cat, kitten, mouse, and dog. Riley picks up the tree and the owl and puts them on the stage, then returns to the tape, which has changed. 

“Her close friend, the cat, came over and over to help the owl. He’d read stories to the little woodland creatures every week, in hopes of helping their love for knowledge grow. The cat was a storyteller. Whether he told others stories or his own he always managed to fill people’s minds with magic and wonder.” Amanda continued. 

“But the cat would’ve never remembered that wonder if it weren’t for the kitten. Sure, the cat had the ability to write wonderful stories, but they were nothing without the kitten’s magical ability to bring them to life. She left a trail of smiles behind her wherever she went.” the narrator adds wistfully. Amanda looks incredibly happy to hear this. The tape stops. Riley turns around. They place the cat and kitten onto the stage.

“The trio enjoyed each other’s company very very much. But no matter how hard they tried to share their knowledge and stories with the world… it was never enough.” Amanda sighs.

“Until one day, a mouse came, offering to change everything. With their large numbers, they could grow the library faster than ever before, and get all the woodland animals to come. In exchange, they wanted to share the cat and kitten’s stories with the whole world. If only the cat had seen back then that it was a deal too good to be true.” The narrator says regretfully. The tape stops again. Riley turns around and places the mouse onto the stage. 

“Because the mice were actually demons in disguise. They took the cat and his kitten away, leaving the owl all alone. Then they separated the cat and his kitten as well and turned the kitten into a mouse-demon too. Then they stuck the kitten in a trap and forced her to lure the unknowing little woodland creatures into the trap too.” Amanda elaborated, a mix of anger and sadness filled her voice. She pauses and looks at the ground. “I don’t wanna tell this story anymore…” 

“Wait Amanda! I wanna hear the end!” Wooly pleads.

“Are you sure? This story doesn’t have a happy ending Wooly.” Amanda sulks. 

“But I wanna hear it!” Wooly protests, he pauses with uncertainty and takes a deep breath before adding, “The kitten isn’t the only one trapped in the cage.” The tape stops. Riley turns around to find a completely different stage. They put the kitten into the cage. The backdrop looks eerily like a background of Amanda the Adventurer. They think long and hard about Wooly’s words. All that’s left is the mouse or the puppy. The mouse was the one who trapped them so… they put the puppy in the cage with the kitten. The tape changes, so they return to it. 

“Okay… but I don’t know the rest of the story. I only know the kitten’s story. She never found out what happened to the cat…” 

“The cat… was turned into the sun…” the narrator says, “always watching over the lonely kitten, never able to let her feel his warmth. Never able to dry her tears… all because he was blocked by the clouds.” the tape stops once more. Riley turns around. They find a sun hidden beneath a curtain of clouds. They pull up the curtain and return to the tape. 

Amanda’s eyes suddenly widen. “Until a kind little owlet blew away the clouds with their wings and let the sunshine in.” 

“The cat knew he had made a huge mistake, if only he’d known back then he would’ve never agreed to the mouse’s deal.” 

“The kitten used to resent the cat. Then she realized that he never meant for any of this to happen, he just made a mistake. The truth was she wasn’t angry at him at all. Just sad… and terribly lonely. She missed him every single day. She didn’t hate him, she could never hate him.” Amanda was now sobbing. “She swore that she would get them all out of there someday. Then the cat, owl, and kitten could all play together again…”

“And they did, right? They got to play together again right? At least one more time?” 

“The owl, knowing something horrible had happened to her friends, tried to save them but…” the narrator says sadly.

“Well… the kitten and the owl got to talk at least… but at first the kitten couldn’t remember the owl… and by the time she did… well… you know how that story ends.” Amanda sighs, looking directly at us. The tape stops and Riley’s heart sinks. They take the owl off the stage, and return to the tape.  “The demon mice ruined everything.” Amanda growls, now full of rage, “the kitten now knew that no matter what became of her she would get her reve-” the tape ends Riley turns around and sees that the owl is holding the tape: “Let’s Go To The Library” when Riley takes it, the owl falls off the table and the sound of a car crash can be heard.

We be traumatizing Riley now I think. This... I think this may be my best fic EVER.

[drachonia]

𝐚 𝐮 𝐭 𝐮 𝐦 𝐧 .

Kinktober 2024 Day 16 Nika Schwarz x OC (Sigrid)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I love this fictional man too much. 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @candiedcoffeedrops @candied-boys 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: mild predator-prey/chasing plot, mostly outdoor sex, couple being goofy.

Brunette curls ducked beneath a low-hanging branch, the scent of oak and cedar hanging heavy in the autumn air as paws turned to delicate feet that sunk into the earth.

That should shake him, the young werewolf thought to herself as her muscles relaxed, looking for the clothing stash she had put nearby, only to find the spot had been uncovered and clothes missing.

“Looking for these, wölfin?” A smooth and lilting voice called from behind her.

“Merde.” Sigrid cursed under her breath as she looked in exasperation over her shoulder at the haughty smirk of her partner as he gently tossed the rolled bundle of clothing in his open palm with a wide smirk, his own fangs showing. As smug as he looked, she couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes roamed her bare skin.

“Fine, you win,” She huffed, rolling her bi-colored eyes at him, “What do you want, tres chère?” She sighed as he edged closer to her, his arms encircling her waist and pulling her roughly against him as his tongue brushed over his lips hungrily, “Can I do whatever I want to my darling mate?” A ringed hand traced down her spine as she sank further into him, her breathing relaxing into a steady rhythm while his sped up.

“Of course, but don’t treat me like a doll, or I’ll knock your fangs straight from your skull.” She glared at him, her lips pulled into a pout as he laughed softly, fingers digging into her skin, “Good, I wasn’t planning on letting you go easy.” He hummed as his teeth dragged over her skin lightly, but didn’t sink in. It was so easy to bite into a human or animal for feeding, but Nika was all too intrigued and entranced by the way her skin was slightly more resistant to every bite of his. He thought of it like biting into gelatin versus a frozen dessert, they were both soft, but one was far easier to bite out of than the other. And for some reason the vampire enjoyed that feeling mixed with how addictive her blood was. Her scent almost drew him back into his memories when he felt her fingers drag over his chest through his thin shirt, “Nn!” He grunted against her throat, lifting his head to look in her eyes, muted red hues only growing darker in desire as he delved in to kiss her lips.

The embrace was sweet at first, but turned as deep and wild as woodland surrounding them. Sigrid growled against his mouth, running her tongue over his fangs and gently pressing against them until she tasted the tang of copper with each kiss, holding the vampire close to her.

“You really…shouldn’t have done that..” he huffed with heavy breaths, eyes narrowing to slits as he turned his head and ran his fangs over her collar as a warning.

“I shouldn’t have, but if getting what I want means I have to play dirty with you, I’ll do it over and over again.” Sigrid hummed beneath his lips as he brushed them over her soft skin, growling possessively and sinking his teeth into her neck as he tugged at his belt roughly, tossing it to the forest floor and pinning her against a nearby tree.

“You’re an expert at driving me wild.” Nika breathed as he braced his hands against the bark of the large pine, pushing into her and biting into her neck once more as he slowly thrust deeper and deeper, until he was fully inside her. The steady pace he’d set mixed with the comforting warmth of her body and the taste of her addictive blood pushed against any restraint he had, the vampire moaning and whimpering into her skin.

“Mmph! Nika…ah!” Her nails dug into his back and clawed at his loose shirt while he pumped his hips faster, finally releasing her neck like he’d resurfaced from drowning. Of course for him, it was the most savory kind of asphyxiation.

“Sig…ngh!” He gasped into the crook of her neck and lapped any dripping blood from her skin as he rutted into her wildly, the soft smack of skin echoing through the woods as he lifted her thighs around his hips and against his sides, “Cum for me first, please…” he groaned in her ear, feeling her flinch slightly as she dragged her nails against the tree bark behind her, resisting the urge. Nika growled at this, pressing his hips flush against hers with a harsh thrust and making sure to grind against every bit of her folds as he did, “Cum, Sigrid.” His crimson eyes stared into her slightly teary ones as she whimpered his name in a breathy voice and let go, soaking him enough that it dripped around the base of his length.

The vampire followed his lover with a strained moan and gave one last thrust, nice and deep as he filled her to the brim, arms winding around her and pulling her flush against his chest once he’d pulled out. The pair flopped down among the mass of fallen leaves, curling up together for a moment to catch their breath.

“Damn, I love you.” He chuckled breathlessly, cradling her head to his chest and reaching across the ground for her bundle of clothing he’d dropped. Untying the cord, he pulled the articles out for her, pausing when he caught sight of a familiar shirt, “Is this one of mine?”

Sigrid froze up for a second, snatching it from him and pulling it on before he could get a better look, but the flush on her cheeks gave it away.

“It is my shirt! You naughty girl!” He laughed and pulled her close, a bright and boyish grin on his face as he pulled her back to him and pressed an adoring kiss to her cheek while she groaned in embarrassment.

“Uh huh, make fun of the werewolf for coveting her favorite scents, go on!” She snapped, unable to dampen her mate’s chuckles and smiles as he nuzzled her sweetly.

Ah, autumn.

[the-whatcherof-89]

LDShadowlady aka Lizzie “Elizabeth” D.Titania Queen of Animalia.

CR 18 NG Medium Humanoid (Native Outsider Shapechanger)

XP 153,600 (if used as npc for encounter)

Undine Animal lord(Cat) Druid(Pack Lord)16

Neutral Good Medium humanoid (Native Outsider Shapechanger)

Init +8; Senses Perception +37

AC 28, touch 19, flat-footed 22 (+1Natural, +6Dex, +8Armor, +3Deflect) hp 187 (16d8+187)

Fort +18, Ref +15, Will +20

Speed Land 30ft, Climb 20ft, Swim 30ft. Melee Bite+18 1D6+6, Claws+18 1D4+6, Trident+19 1D8+7, Spells. RangedCrossbow+23 1D10+3, Spells.

Racial Amphibious, Deepsight, Hydrated vitality, Water sense, Scent, Low-light vision, Climb speed, Pounce, Rake, Natural attacks(Bite 1D6, Claws 1d4), Leap(+16 Acrobatics), Dominion(speak with animals Charm animals CL16th), DR10/silver.

Traits Natural-born leader, Lovesick.

Class features Pack-bound, Wild emphaty, Nature sense, Woodland stride, Trackless steps, Resist nature’s lure, Wildshape 6/day, Venom immunity, Thousand faces, Timeless body.

Animal companions Sea cat(lv8th) Leopard(lv8th)

Spellcasting CL16 DC18 Domains Daily spellcasting 4/6/6/6/6/5/4/4/3

0-Detect magic, Purify food and water, Create water, Read magic, Mending.

I- Goodberry, Entangle, Barkskin, Mud ball, Negate aroma, Cure light wounds. 

II-Animal aspect, Barkskin, Warp wood, Lay of the land, Restoration lesser, Tree shape.

III-Air geyser, Cure moderate wounds, Cloak of winds, Resist energy (communal), Magic fang greater, Call lighting.

IV-Aggressive thundercloud (greater), Cure serious wounds, Dispel magic, Freedom of movement, Reincarnate, Thorn body.

V-Call lighting storm, Cure critical wounds, Hungry earth, Animal growth, Stoneskin.

VI-Dispel magic greater,  Sirocco, Wall of stone, Move earth.

VII-Animate plants, Heal, Sunbeam, True seeing.

VIII-Earthquake, Whirlwind, Mass cure serious wounds.

Str 20, Dex 26, Con 22, Int 16, Wis 26, Cha 20

Base Atk +12/7/2; CMB +15; CMD +23

Feats Cosmopolitan(Knowledge Nobility, Diplomacy, Giant, Alko), Steam caster, Leadership, Divine interference, Natural spell, Powerful shape, Craft wondrous magic items, Weapon finesse(Natural attacks).

Skills Acrobatics+31, Climb+16, Craft(Stone&Wood)+20, Diplomacy+18, Fly+12, Handle animal+12, Heal+12, Knowledge (Geography+7, Nature+20, Nobility+7), Perception+27, Perform(Dance)+16, Profession(Engineer)+27, Ride+12, Spellcraft+20, Stealth+15(+4 while in undergrowth), Survival+20, Swim+28.

Leadership score (22) Cohort lv14th Followers I-110 II-11 III-6 IV-3 V-2  VI-1

Languages Common, Aquan, Druidic, Sylvan, Draconic, Giant Alko, Feline emphaty.

Combat gear Trident of fish command, Animalia’s regalia: Striker(Frost Huntsman Heavy underwater Crossbow+2), 50+1 Corrosive bolts, Living steel sickle, Animalia regalia: Commander(Darkleaf Wild breastplate of command), Ring of protection+3, Headband of mental prowess+4(Int, Wis, Perception), Cloak of resistance+2, Boots of the cat, Amulet of mighty fists+1, Ring of the sea strider, Ring of energy resistance major(Electric), Rod of splendor, Sleeves of many garments, Undine chain belts, Tome of understanding+2(used), Potions: Displacement(2), Magic fang greater (2), 4 Potions sponges, Jewelry worth 300GP, Druid’s kit, 4705GP.

Background Elizabeth was a powerful queen whom ruled from her ocean palace over the kingdom of Animalia which respected animals above all else. There was just one SMALL problem: She fell in love with Joel ruler of the land kingdom of Mezlana. For a long time, both of them met in secret while sending each other letters using their secret names: LDShadowlady and Smallishbeans. Things changed when Joel ascended to “godhood” after he drank from a magical fountain. Drunk with power, she almost abandoned him for the new god was different from the gentle and friendly man that was once. When he lost his powers, and his kingdoms, Lizzie abdicated her throne to return to his side for she saw what truly that man was deep down. Along with their fellow Hermits Grian, Mumbo, Rendog and Impulse they left and got married and started a new life. Between the founding of the Pixel Pact(and his disbandment), her love for all fluffy creatures and dancing (sometimes awkwardly) with Joel she was having a good life building various nature-oriented builds. “A wish limited only by your imagination.” She was planting flowers near a vast riverbed when she heard the voice. “What would you wish for?” She thought it was a prank from his husband. “Well… since you insist my dear genie of the lamp… i wouldn’t mind returning to my old kingdom for a romantic date.” The sound if finger snapping was heard. “It is done.” She was instantly transformed and sent into another world never seen before, she was in an underwater palace, in a royal bedroom, very similar to her original one, but slightly different. “Let the game begin. If you want my wish you must find me. Your husband is also invited.” She jolted. “What did you just say?!” The door knocked. “Your majesty are you alright?” She turned around toward the door to then back to look for the mysterious voice, it was gone. She turned toward the mirror looking at herself in her royal outfit: “Well now, i am in DEEP SEA trouble am i now?"

THE IMAGE DOES NOT BELONG TO ME

LINK FOR THE IMAGE: