#earth-shaped bird's eye (tom)

[yabutsuba]

Tag masterpost, part 2

[strelles-universe]

The Forest Clans - The Grand Spirits

The Souls have a vast amount of children - either elevated mortals, mortals they lay with in their hidden forms or sole spawned - and the clans worship them proudly. While there are more spirits than even ShadowClan can keep up with, the Grand Spirits are the most popular tales and represent some of the most important minor aspects of clan life.

It's generally accepted that these minor gods are more promiscuous than their parents and that most demigods of the clans and gifted cats in history are children of these spirits.

---

Haseni | Silverfoot - The Breeze

---

As a mortal, Silverfoot was a member of old WindClan with their lanky builds and long, winding tails. As his name implied, he was a very pretty tom with a silvery coat and deep black spots across his fur - he was the fastest runner to ever grace the moor. The legend goes that Silverfoot was approached by a series of cats who egged him into a race, wanting to see how fast he can go. The race was around the entirety of WindClan territory and when Silverfoot took off, he was so fast he outraced his own shadow - he flew across the moor like a bird in the thermals, springing over the smallest dips with barely a twinge of muscle. 

When he reached the starting place panting the cat who’d challenged him laughed heartily and his formed shifted until Moonsoul himself stood before him. 

“You are faster than even my fastest servants,” the god boomed joyously. “I have a deal for you dear Silverfoot - become my messenger. I will grant you the ability to run tirelessly across any terrain, the freedom to climb over trees and race across waves - and in return you ferry messages between me and my cohorts.”

SIlverfoot thought about the offer, “I will if I am allowed to remain with my family first.”

And so it was - when Silverfoot died, he became the wind the buffets the moor. It’s said that during the few times the air is still on the plain, that Silverfoot is visiting his family on the edges of StarClan.

Divine Parent: Moonsoul

Domains: Wind, Freedom, Messengers, Patron of WindClan

---

Huyewa | Whitespirit - The Dreamer

---

A leucistic fishing cat with glowing eye sockets. The motherless child of Riversoul, it’s said that Whitespirit was a ghostly figure in his dreams that he grew to love and care about; then one day when he opened his eyes, Huyewa was standing before him and called him father. With a chuckle, he accepted his accepted her as his daughter. Being born in the realm of dreams, Whitespirit is still capable of entering the dreams of mortals everywhere. Often she does so with the purpose of looking in on dreams with her father and changing them if she so pleases.

When angered or trying to give someone a warning, Huyewa is known to dredge up nightmares in the cat’s mind as fear would make them focus on all little details. It’s said that Huyewa is actually very good friends with Haanuki and so when someone is sick, their dreams become distorted and frightening in the prense of the two minor gods. 

Divine Parent: Riversoul

Domains: Dreams, Nightmares, Hallucinations

---

Haanuki | Greenspirit - The Harbinger

---

Haanuki isn’t exactly a cat in the normal sense, not an organic being with organs inside of her. When the creatures of the world had begun to injure themselves, some of them begged to heal and help those who were harmed. Treesoul took pity upon them and scraped together a large pawful of earth and leaves - both poison and herbal - and with Riversoul’s help, molded it. She has a small puff of a tail, juniper berries growing around her throat and yew berries around the base of her tail. When the shaping was done, she seemed to be a cat with wings made of herbs and stalks in her head in the form of antenna to allow her to travel fast.

With that, Treesoul sent Haanuki off to teach and nurture the wanting tutors of the world. They were eager to work with her, listening with intense ears and following along with careful paws. For a while this was fine and Haanuki was content with her purpose. Then she came across the smog-hearted creatures that used their talents to heal and took advantage of those in pain - those who threatened wanderers with the safety of their loved ones with the herbs in their paws.

Furious she levied a curse upon them, a curse that has steadily begun to destroy their bodies and began jumping from cat to cat. Sickness was cursed upon the creatures of the world for the first time and Haanuki turned away from them, choosing not to teach them anything and not to save them.

Many seasons later, a cat now known as Moth Flight the First Prophet followed the green moth sent out by Haanuki. Moth Flight traveled into the Moontunnels following the moth as it led her through a series of scenarios created by Haanuki from her memories of the cruel cats she came to know. Moth Flight responded to each situation with mild panic but a heart overflowing with kindness and empathy. When she entered the mooncavern, standing upon the glittering stone was Haanuki deeply proud and pleased with what she’s seen.

The creatures of the world were ready for healers again.

She touched noses with Moth Flight and in that single instant, transferred all of the knowledge she had of healing, herbs and poisons to the molly. The information was so voluminous that her mind seemed to fracture and for the rest of her life, she was always faintly distracted by things other cats couldn’t see - for the cracking of her mind opened her spirit to the omens of the world. Moth Flight became the first prophet, always able to see and sense the presence of Haanuki’s Moth and so could all her kin from then on.

Divine Parent: Treesoul

Domains: Disease, Curses, Misfortune,

---

Siyeyim | Fleetfoot - The Planner

---

Siyeyim - more commonly known as Fleetfoot - was a proud and courageous warrior of Ancient RiverClan said to rival even the lions of Ancient ThunderClan in reckless bravery. A with a proper pelt of gold and the sleekest of pelts, she was the purest of RiverClan blood that you could get. The granddaughter of the Ancient leader Swiftstar, it was long expected that Siyeyim would do something great one day - and something great she certainly did.

It was during a Gathering that Goldenstar of Ancient ThunderClan confessed to the deaths of two apprentices and a young queen at the sharp hooves of Rage, the gigantic boar and one of the Great Beasts. Shadestar of ShadowClan and Flickerstar of WindClan both admitted to suffering casualties of their own from the great boar as he rampaged throughout their territories.

Fleetfoot was young and arrogant, laughing when that was said and proudly boasting that if it were a RiverClan problem, they would face the beast effortlessly, outsmarting and outspeeding it. Rightfully angry by such a flagrant dismissal of their grief of their clans; Goldenstar angrily challenged Fleetfoot to do just that. Fleetfoot was confident and self-assured, even when Shadestar and Flickerstar both agreed that she was barred the assistance her clanmates. It was only when she stood face to face with the napping Rage, father of all boars that she realizes she may have bitten off more than she could chew as the beast was easily larger than even the grandest of bucks that roamed the forest. Instead of her previous plan spawned of bravado and arrogance where she’d charge in and face the beast in direct combat, she wisely chose to outwit it instead.

She fooled the boar into fighting her in the thick brush of ThunderClan territory - for in the ancient days, there was bracken high as a cat was tall and not even the might of Rage would break free. It seemed like an endless assault when Fleetfoot clawed, bit and scratched at the thick, secure pelt of the vengefully squealing boar. Finally the boar died with an agitated wail and Fleetfoot had been prepared to stalk home, head held high with pleasure and success when she was rammed from behind amd flung all the way into Fourtrees.

Rage had a made by the name of Fury and she was so large, so terrifying, so menacing that she could’ve uprooted Fourtrees with a few angry changes into the massive trunks. Fleetfoot fled, suddenly understanding why the three clans couldn’t face the boar - with the RiverClan camp surrounded by water, Fury and Rage would never feel the need to chase them. Still she did not give up; she plotted and tricked and planned - her battle against Fury lasted three long days and three long nights of endless doging, swiping and baiting until she was on the edge of the gorge. Crossing the river , Fleetfoot watched with relief as the sharp hooves of the boar, not meant for smooth, slippery rocks lost their grip and sent her toppling into the river.

When Fleetfoot followed the river down to the slowing stream, she discovered Fury’s drowned body and took one of her tusks in triumph. She lugged both it and a tusk from Rage all the way back to Fourtrees where the leaders had gathered together at the whispers from Slysoul in their ears. She deposited the tusks in front of all five four leaders and bowed her head.

“I apologize for my arrogance,” she said, for Fleetfoot’s usually gorgeously cared for coat was now strewn with mud and lanced with scrapes and blood from the times she couldn’t dodge the tusks of her opponents. “Your dead deserved not the disrespect I showed them.”

“And you deserved not to be surprised,” Goldenstar murmured guiltily.

And then Goldenstar announced that he was granting RiverClan the river and all the fish that inhabited it, a stance echoed by both Shadestar and Flickerstar. Swiftstar proudly accepted their offerings pleased to see that his granddaughter had not only learned a bit of humility but has also displayed the true strength that all of RiverClan possessed to the other clans. 

When she died, Fleetfoot looked shocked into the eyes of Slysoul herself who warmly welcomed her.

“Stay with your kin in the stars,” Slysoul said. “Or become a servant of mine and encourage the cats of the clans to always be as clever, determined and strategic as you were.”

“But I leave my kin?”

“Never for long little one - for RiverClan will immortalize your deeds and the Stars will welcome you.”

And so Fleetfoot accepted, venturing back into the land of the leaving as the burst of pride and assurance you feel whenever you’re defending your clan from a threat. The pride of a warrior on a night’s vigil - Siyeyim is by your side. 

Divine Parent: Slysoul

Domains: Strategy, creativity, determination, pursuit, confidence

---

Sukahur | Redtalon - The Harvester

---

Suhakur is a brilliant russet tiger/hawk opinicus the soars through the air determinedly. When he was still mortal, he lived his life in fear; having been an apprentice during the age of the Scarlet Leader. During those times, the Scarlet Leader truly despised ShadowClan and the principals that they upheld and claimed linked them tighter to the Souls than any other clan. Redpaw watched as raid after raid of WindClan warriors assaulted their camp, chasing off prey and destroying vital herbs to force ShadowClan into a weakened state. Then they were too tired to fight back, Duststar had any cat he found wandering the moor slaughtered even if they claimed to be heading to StarClan. 

It was long after Redpaw had earned his name as Redtalon that he was approached in the night by haggard looking WindClan warriors, He attacked but they fended him off easily in his weakened and starved state. He expected them to kill him but instead the lead warrior dropped a large rabbit beforehim.

“We’ve seen you fight,” said the warrior. “Like a crimson wave. We want your help.”

“I will not slaughter my clanmates,” Redtalon spat.

“We’re not asking you to - we’re asking you to kill our leader.”

Redralon had been shocked - like everyone he’d assumed that WindClan all supported and agreed with their leader’s actions. They certainly never seemed to have a shortage of warriors on the warpath. That, the small patrol explained is because Duststar kept all dissenters under lock and key, separating kits from their mothers to indoctrinate them in the story he was spinning and culling any that doubted him. The tactics he used to weaken and ruin ShadowClan were first tested on those who spoke against them, leaving the resistance weak and frail. This small trio of warriors were the only ones who escaped and at the cost of their kin’s lives, they sought out a warrior who could be made strong enough to fight.

Redtalon had been wary but eventually he accepted the deal.

For one full moon, the three warriors fed him well while Redtalon sharpened his claws. He felt immense guilt that as he got stronger, his clan got weaker but he understood why they couldn’t share the prey - the strength of one warrior would have to be enough. Nerves danced along his pelt but Redtalon had long stopped jumping at shadows - he embraced the prickling sensation in his toes at the thought of his final battle against Duststar and longed for the taste of the tyrant’s blood on his tongue.

Then one day the squad didn’t come back. One day turned to two and on the third, the leader staggered into their clearing dripping blood and mangled.

“Run,” they rasped. “He knows of you.”

And as the lead warrior died, Redtalon considers that he probably meant for him to leave. But instead, Redtalon had gotten outraged. Without even thinking he sprinted from ShadowClan territory, his paws carrying him across the marsh and then across the moor like he was winged. He saw the shadow of a hawk above him and knew at once that Slysoul was with him - he blended into the shadows, staying hidden as he ventured deeper and deeper into WindClan and abandoned stealth altogether when he reached the wall defending the camp.

With a roar of outrage, he sprung from the edge and landed in the clearing. The warriors of WindClan surged up and despite the waves of claws upon him, Redtalon never felt anything but pity for the those crazed cats who’d been fooled by the captivating words of their leader. Redtalon carved a sea of blood through the WindClan camp and his stalked towards Duststar who snarled and raced to meet him. Though Duststar has the lighter, leaner frame of a WindClan warrior, Redtalon only had one moon of decent food after several seasons of starvation. The battle was hard fought and seemed endless - in all his time as the Scarlet Leader, Duststar had only lost two lives since his ceremony.

Redtalon slashed blindly at the warriors who attacked him, desperate to defend their leader as Redtalon slowly bled out from the number of wounds. A shriek filled the air and the warriors were suddenly pulled off of him as three hawks descended upon the battlefield, targeting any warriors who got near him. Redtalon roared for he knew that these were the warriors who helped him - whose kin sacrificed themselves so that Redtalon may be given a chance. He sank his claws into Duststar’s throat even as the leader slashed his own. Redtalon ripped and Duststar finally fell, the Scarlet Leader’s brown pelt as crimson as his title.

Redtalon collapsed there and then, panting as blood soaked into his pelt unable to stand through his exhaustion. As he stared through half-lidded eyes, he saw the ghostly figures of his three helpers standing around Slysoul who was grinning down at him.

“You’ve done well for yourself Redtalon.”

“I did well for my clan,” he corrected tiredly. “Now no kit will grow up under this bloody reign.”

“Others will come,” said Slysoul dismisively. “Other cats that hunger for power and are willing to sink their claws into anyone to get it.”

“So was my life wasted then? What was the point of my death when other tyrants will rise?”

Slysoul grinned an eerie grin, “Would you like to stop them? Continue to ensure that no tyrant will remain in rule for long?”

Redtalon’s clws sank into the ground as his vision began to blacken, “Yes. Let no further Scarlet Leaders live long and prosperous.”

“So be it.”

And when Redtalon reawoke, he awoke as Suhakur the spirit of rebellion, anticipation, nerves, deadly focus and sacrifice. In his new form, he soars across the world collecting the souls of the deceased and delivering them to StarClan while he sends out his hawks to monitor the creatures of the world.

Divine Parent: Slysoul

Domains: Death, anticipation, nerves, rebellion, focus and sacrifice

---

Hanimu | Littlespirit - The Orphan

---

Little spirit was a small cheetah cub said to be from Ancient WindClan during one of the hardest dodahiim that the clans had ever seen and the brunt of it raked across the moor. A powerful, deadly wind filled their camp with snow that reached the chests of even their tallest warriors and the ground froze so hard that even the strongest of tunnelers couldn’t break through the permafrost. They struggled day in and day out seeking food. Littlekit saw his clanmates starving and refused to eat the food he was given, secretly feeding it to his den mates. He warmed the smallest kits while the warriors searched desperately for food and did his best to reassure the kits when the queens were busy

 One day on the hardest snow, one of his siblings - Flakekit - went missing. Flakekit was deeply ill and constantly seeing visions from Haanuki - such visions confused him, leading him to wander out and away from the camp. While the clan mourned, unwilling to risk more lives in the intense blizzard, Littlekit snuck out on a quest to find his brother. He eventually found him, trembling in a hollow with a Reaper circling above him. Littlekit didn’t hesitate, carrying his brother through the snow, keeping his head high as his ears, tail and nose froze. When he made it back to camp, the clan was in uproar. Looking at his brother from his nest, he realized that he was too late and his brother’s breathing was slowing - when he spotted Suhakur creeping in, he begged for a chance only to be denied. Littlekit stood in front of his brother and instead offered a trade - his life and warmth to be given to his brother. Surprised by the bravery of the young kit, Suhakur consulted the Souls to reach a decision.

In the end it was Sweetsoul who put down her paw, awed by the loyalty and dedication shown by this small kit to his clan. She offered him a choice - die in place of his brother and ascend to the stars, or to die and become a spirit; looking out for other lost kits and those who need help. Littlekit accepted the offer of becoming a spirit, taking on the domains of orphans, lost children, young travelers, generosity and of course; sacrifice. Young kits who wander too far from camp often remark they saw a little brown kit with strange spots like WindClan and a white mantle down his back, his tail and nose coated in ice that led them back home. 

Within ThunderClan, Littlespirit is viewed as a Soul rather than a spirit and is worshipped accordingly. 

Divine Parent: Sweetsoul

Domains: Orphans, lost children, young travelers, generosity, sacrifice

---

Temekur | Silenttalon - The Merciful

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The most unusual of the spirits, Temekur is another spirit who was brought to immortality for their actions. Unlike the other spirits however, Temekur was a mere ghost owl that lurked in the canopy of ThunderClan’s forest. Long-lived enough that many cats claim the owl had somehow obtained and stored the energy of the spirits to enhance its lifespan, this owl had the opportunity to watch the cats of the woods wander about freely. The owl of course was also witness to the first Great Famine of ThunderClan that happened during the reign of Owlstar.

The creature watched as the cats’ bellies grew thin, their ribs stick out and their kits die slowly. It watched in muted sort of fascination as one cat finally collapsed before its tree. The owl was aware enough to understand that this cat was a leader - understood that the presence of this cat could even bring more cats. It made a decision that set it apart from the mindless creatures of the world - it took off and hunted in the dead of night, capturing two decent sized rats outside of clan territory and dropped them before the body of Owlstar. 

To say the ThunderClan leader was astonished was an understatement but he grabbed both mice and sprinted back to camp, unaware that the ghost owl followed him from above. This trip was what led the owl to the camp; led to it witnessing the companionship and prioritizing of the clan over a single cat’s life. No one is quite sure what did it, but the owl waited until dusk and drew the attention of a frightened patrol. It never swooped just fluttered over them - for two more nights the owl did this before Owlstar joined a night patrol. Remembering what this owl had done, he followed his instincts and when the owl flew off he followed.

The owl seemed pleased eventually flew ahead, circling a clearing very slowly. When Owlstar and his patrol emerged on the edge of the clearing, they encountered a deeply injured boar that appeared to be alone. They couldn’t believe their luck - they attacked the boar and brought it down. Following another hunch, he ripped a large mouthful of boar flesh free and tossed it as high as he could. The owl swooped, accepting the freed meet and flew onward.

From then on, Owlstar ordered hunting patrols to follow the owl and somehow, there was always prey available when the owl sought them out. ThunderClan always shared these catches with the owl making sure that the owl knew of the deep gratitude. The cats of ThunderClan even granted it a warrior name - the name Silenttalon, to honor its large part in their survival. Before long, ThunderClan had mostly recovered from the famine and the owl was on the last feathers of its life. As it lay dying in the leaf litter, one of its chicks chirping desperately; the owl watched as a ThunderClan catch clambered up to its nest and grabbed its chick. Instead of eating or killing it, the cat fed it.

The Owl died that day, but its heart was that of a warrior’s so when Bravesoul explained to her fellow Souls that she wanted to ascend it, there was no argument to have. Slysoul created a harvester-like form, leaving it its owl head and wings but offering it the Ancient Form of a ThunderClan cat as its body. Temekur collects the souls of those who died of starvation or dehydration, making sure to frequently visit its favored clan in ThunderClan and to check on its descendants. It’s said that all boreals in ThunderClan were talon picked by Temekur himself.

Divine Parent: Bravesoul and Slysoul

Domains: Sanity, wilderness, mercy, famine, surplus

---

Husakhmek | Amberspirit - The Fear Bringer

---

Husakhmek is less of a cat and more of a terrifying entity - born of the more horrifying and ignoble side of the warrior life, The Fear Bringer is said to have been born of the Scarlet Leader ‘s actions. When the moors of WindClan were filled with the splayed and mangled bodes of cats of all clans, the kingdoms shied away, and the canines fled from the sea of red that drowned all that roamed, Husakhmek crawled from the carnage. A lopsided face due to the left side of their skull being caved in, split like massive teeth had crushed it and blood leaking from the remaining golden socket is the first thing most think of when Husakhmek comes up. His body is covered in deep scars and drips of blood with overgrown claws that scrape the ground with every step. Husakhmek speaks with the voices of thousands - a raspy and pained throated sound borne of the spirits who perished to create them

Husakhmek is regarded with terror by the clans and is one of the few spirits deliberately referred to by their connection tongue name of Amberspirit for fear that speaking their name aloud would draw their attention. It’s said that if you forsake Bravesoul and shatter the code senselessly, then Husakhek will begin to lurk on your peripherals and stalk your dreams. The worst part of it all is that Husakhmek is very clever - made of the millions of corpses and the innocent blood spilled on the moor, he changes form to hide himself from those who’d be frightened away from him.

Amberspirit is known as the spirit of fear, trauma, despair, horror and slaughter. Though terrifying, it’s necessary to accept that Amberspirit is the lesser acknowledged side of warriorhood - that a cat left to stray could easily fall into his talons. Many cats believe that the Canyons were created by Husakhmek so that they can be surrounded by like-minded individuals - murderers, serial killers, abusers and the spillers of innocent blood. Some cats insist that if you commit deeds atrocious enough, Husakhmek would greet you upon your death and scar you with his sibling.

All of the clans have carved wooden dolls of Husakhmek that are cautiously given offerings and gifts to appease the spirit. 

Divine Parent: Bravesoul

Domains: Fear, trauma, despair, horror, pain, slaughter, night terrors

[decorworks]

Eight Australian houses with sculptural shapes and angular facades

Our latest roundup showcases innovative Australian homes, including a house with a fish-pond atrium and a residence with a faceted black-metal extension. Mostly located in Melbourne and Sydney, these eight homes are united by their sculptural designs. While some have unusually shaped floorplans, others use detailed facades, cantilevers, roof cutouts and geometrical aluminium awnings to create eye-catching details. Read on for eight examples of sculptural Australian houses from Dezeen's archive:

Photo by Timothy KayePeninsula House, Flinders, by Wood Marsh Designed to echo Australia's "windswept" coastline, this home south of Melbourne has curving walls of charred timber and rammed earth. Local studio Wood Marsh also drew on meandering paths leading to the site when creating the shape of the house, which has a curving form with long "arms" wrapping a swimming pool terrace and a driveway. Find out more about Peninsula House ›

Photo by Shannon McGrath and Timothy KayeSt Martins Lane, Melbourne, by Matt Gibson This Victorian home in the South Yarra suburb of Melbourne was given a sculptural update with a faceted extension clad in black metal. Architect Matt Gibson decorated the facade of the extension, which contains a living space, two bedrooms, a study and a cascading terrace, with a laser-cut pattern that references the original architecture of the house. Find out more about St Martins Lane ›

Photo by Rory GardinerMossy Point home, New South Wales, by Edition Office A cutout roof animates this fibre-cement-clad home, which architecture studio Edition Office elevated on parallel blockwork walls within a woody area in Mossy Point. The aperture in the roofline, designed to resemble a bird's mouth, creates a sheltered outdoor dining space. A void at the centre of the roof lets natural light into the gabled building. Find out more about Mossy Point ›

Photo by Tom RossMerricks Farmhouse, Melbourne, by Michael Lumby Architecture and Nielsen Jenkins Concrete blocks were used to construct Merricks Farmhouse, a home designed as a "refuge" in an exposed coastal setting on the Mornington Peninsula. South African studio Michael Lumby Architecture and Brisbane practice Nielsen Jenkins gave the home strong geometrical shapes by splitting it into a series of blocks that surround a courtyard. Find out more about Merricks Farmhouse ›

Photo by David ChatfieldTallowood Cabin, Queensland, by Fouché Architects Australian studio Fouché Architects created the angular Tallowwood Cabin to cantilever over its plot on a Queensland hillside. Its top-heavy geometric form, clad in black-cement boards, balances on a concrete plinth. A sloping walkway leads into the house, which is designed to "disappear" into the surrounding bushland. Find out more about Tallowood Cabin ›

Photo by Jack LovelProclamation House, Perth, by State of Kin The innovative facade of this Perth house was created by combining olive-coloured hemp render with aluminium awnings that add tactility to the exterior. It encases a sculptural concrete form with a rounded, sloping roof and is designed to exaggerate the traditional features of local cottages, architecture studio State of Kind told Dezeen. Find out more about Proclamation House ›

Photo by Derek SwalwellHelvetia, Melbourne, by Austin Maynard Architects One of the most unusual designs on the list, this Melbourne home has a fish-pond atrium in its entrance space and also features five distinct garden areas. At its rear, the building has a garage that Australian firm Austin Maynard Architects topped with an "urban farm". This is enclosed with a barrel-vaulted wire mesh to keep out possums. Find out more about Helvetia ›

Photo by Felix ForestMatopos, Sydney, by Atelier Andy Carson Local studio Atelier Andy Carson married a curved bronze facade with a sandstone podium at this home for a gallerist in the Sydney suburb of Freshwater. Called Matopos, the house has an undulating sculptural shape and large windows designed to frame views of the nearby sea. Find out more about Matopos › Read the full article

[manwalksintobar]

The Far Field // Theodore Roethke

I

I dream of journeys repeatedly: Of flying like a bat deep into a narrowing tunnel Of driving alone, without luggage, out a long peninsula, The road lined with snow-laden second growth, A fine dry snow ticking the windshield, Alternate snow and sleet, no on-coming traffic, And no lights behind, in the blurred side-mirror, The road changing from glazed tarface to a rubble of stone, Ending at last in a hopeless sand-rut, Where the car stalls, Churning in a snowdrift Until the headlights darken.

II

At the field's end, in the corner missed by the mower, Where the turf drops off into a grass-hidden culvert, Haunt of the cat-bird, nesting-place of the field-mouse, Not too far away from the ever-changing flower-dump, Among the tin cans, tires, rusted pipes, broken machinery, -- One learned of the eternal; And in the shrunken face of a dead rat, eaten by rain and ground-beetles (I found in lying among the rubble of an old coal bin) And the tom-cat, caught near the pheasant-run, Its entrails strewn over the half-grown flowers, Blasted to death by the night watchman.

I suffered for young birds, for young rabbits caught in the mower, My grief was not excessive. For to come upon warblers in early May Was to forget time and death: How they filled the oriole's elm, a twittering restless cloud, all one morning, And I watched and watched till my eyes blurred from the bird shapes, -- Cape May, Blackburnian, Cerulean, -- Moving, elusive as fish, fearless, Hanging, bunched like young fruit, bending the end branches, Still for a moment, Then pitching away in half-flight, Lighter than finches, While the wrens bickered and sang in the half-green hedgerows, And the flicker drummed from his dead tree in the chicken-yard.

-- Or to lie naked in sand, In the silted shallows of a slow river, Fingering a shell, Thinking: Once I was something like this, mindless, Or perhaps with another mind, less peculiar; Or to sink down to the hips in a mossy quagmire; Or, with skinny knees, to sit astride a wet log, Believing: I'll return again, As a snake or a raucous bird, Or, with luck, as a lion.

I learned not to fear infinity, The far field, the windy cliffs of forever, The dying of time in the white light of tomorrow, The wheel turning away from itself, The sprawl of the wave, The on-coming water.

III

The river turns on itself, The tree retreats into its own shadow. I feel a weightless change, a moving forward As of water quickening before a narrowing channel When banks converge, and the wide river whitens; Or when two rivers combine, the blue glacial torrent And the yellowish-green from the mountainy upland, -- At first a swift rippling between rocks, Then a long running over flat stones Before descending to the alluvial plane, To the clay banks, and the wild grapes hanging from the elmtrees. The slightly trembling water Dropping a fine yellow silt where the sun stays; And the crabs bask near the edge, The weedy edge, alive with small snakes and bloodsuckers, -- I have come to a still, but not a deep center, A point outside the glittering current; My eyes stare at the bottom of a river, At the irregular stones, iridescent sandgrains, My mind moves in more than one place, In a country half-land, half-water.

I am renewed by death, thought of my death, The dry scent of a dying garden in September, The wind fanning the ash of a low fire. What I love is near at hand, Always, in earth and air.

IV

The lost self changes, Turning toward the sea, A sea-shape turning around, -- An old man with his feet before the fire, In robes of green, in garments of adieu. A man faced with his own immensity Wakes all the waves, all their loose wandering fire. The murmur of the absolute, the why Of being born falls on his naked ears. His spirit moves like monumental wind That gentles on a sunny blue plateau. He is the end of things, the final man.

All finite things reveal infinitude: The mountain with its singular bright shade Like the blue shine on freshly frozen snow, The after-light upon ice-burdened pines; Odor of basswood on a mountain-slope, A scent beloved of bees; Silence of water above a sunken tree : The pure serene of memory in one man, -- A ripple widening from a single stone Winding around the waters of the world.

[thistledown-au-warriors]

fire and ice - chapter 4

< Chapter 3 || Index || Chapter 5 >

He was running through the dark among many dark shapes he did not recognize. Wind carrying the scent of fear and blood ruffled his pelt. Very suddenly, the acrid smoke scent of the Thunderpath hit his nostrils, and Fire Heart closed his eyes as they began to water. He was faintly aware of the scents of peat, hedge, stone and smoke dancing around his muzzle as his legs kept racing on their own.

When Fire Heart finally was able to open his eyes again, he was standing in the dark, alone. The roar and the stench of a Thunderpath was very close by. Fire Heart felt himself buffeted and blinded by the monsters that roared up and down with glaring eyes. Suddenly, through the din, Fire Heart heard the pitiful cry of a young cat. The desperate wail sliced through the thundering of the monsters.

He awoke with a start. For a moment he thought that the cry had woken him. But the only noise was the muffled  of Gray Stripe and Swift Bird sleeping beside him. The ravine was silent. Unsettled, he crept silently to the mouth of the den.

It was cold and dark outside, and the stars dotting the black sky told him dawn was still far off. The huddled shapes of Sand Storm and Dusty Earth stood out in the center of camp, clouds of mist appearing and disappearing in front of their muzzles. He knew that they were tasked to guard duty for that whole night, and he didn't want either of them to confront him. He discarded the idea of going to anyone Violet Fang or Misty Step to discuss his dream and sat back into the darkness of the den.

After breathing in silence for a long moment, the calm of the sleeping camp soothed Fire Heart. His Clan was safe, the nursery was safe. He crept back onto his nest and softly circled it. Gray Stripe purred briefly in his sleep as Fire Heart settled beside him and closed his eyes.

***

Fire Heart dodged quickly as his adversary lunged towards him. In a swift movement, he launched himself onto the larger cat's back, raking his claws on long fur. Screeching in fury, the gray tom shook fiercely trying to dislodge Fire Heart, who clung like a burr, before finally attempting to roll. The ginger apprentice got off quickly with a leap-and-roll.

Gray Stripe got up and shook himself, spitting. "You ripped all my fur off!" He yowled in annoyance.

Fire Heart just smirked at his friend, tail waving challengingly.

"Focus on the match, Gray Stripe!" Rose Fall called to her apprentice from where she sat. Beside her, Misty Step, Pale Tail and Swift Bird watched the battle training in silence. Fire Heart and Gray Stripe were doing a demonstration spar for Swift Bird to watch before he'd practice some moves himself. Pale Tail's presence wasn't appreciated by Fire Heart, but the warrior hadn't done anything more than look somewhat displeased thus far.

The gray apprentice grunted, then lowered himself and hissed. Fire Heart raised his back. A cold breeze picked up, ruffling the two toms' pelts as they circled each other.

Fire Heart had trained with Gray Stripe for so long, he could tell that his friend was tensing up to make a move. Being more lithe than his friend, he just had to be ready to dodge and counter, especially with how simple the moves they'd been trying out that day were.

Suddenly, against his better judgement, the ginger tom glanced at Swift Bird, who had just stood up to better see the match. But he wasn't seeing the young apprentice anymore. He stared as the black-and-white tom was now thinner, with small paws and large ears. His muzzle was tinted with gray, and his eyes were pale and wise. The old tom looked at Fire Heart and raised a very long, black thin tail.

A large gray blur slammed full-force against Fire Heart, taking the wind out of his lungs and breaking him out of his daze. Gray Stripe had him fully pinned down and winded, his weight making it impossible for Fire Heart to catch his breath.

"Surprise is the warrior's greatest weapon!" Gray Stripe purred, quoting his former mentor, Lion's Heart. The ginger apprentice replied only with a wheeze.

With a signal from Rose Fall, Gray Stripe stepped out of his defeated friend, allowing him to breathe and slowly get back up. As he panted, Fire Heart glanced back at Swift Bird. The young tom was himself again, staring back with a puzzled expression. Unfortunately, he also saw the way Pale Tail was looking at him with clear mockery in his expression.

"Got distracted by butterflies, kittypet? A kit would have done better than that!" The tabby warrior jeered, seeming much more pleased than he had been the entire morning.

Misty Step, who had been padding towards her apprentice, stopped and looked back at Pale Tail over her shoulder, eyes blazing like cold blue flames. "I think you meant to point out to your apprentice what he should learn from this, instead of wasting your breath mocking mine, Pale Tail. Or maybe you still think you're an apprentice yourself?"

Pale Tail's face contorted with surprise and annoyance, but he didn't talk back. Swift Bird's eyes were round with indignation for his mentor's sake. Fire Heart looked away from them, and sat up to look at Misty Step. The gray molly still had her eyes narrowed, but there was a hint of concern and frustration to her expression now.

"Seriously though, Fire Heart. I taught you the importance of focus and how to defend yourself from attacks like that. You have been doing well, what happened?" she asked in a low but sharp tone.

"I just… I thought I saw…" Fire Heart cut himself off, then shook his head. What was he going to tell her? That some unknown tom he saw in his dreams once suddenly appeared to him in the clearing? She would think he had bees in his brain. "I'm sorry, Misty Step. I didn't sleep too well."

The warrior stared at him for a moment, seeming unconvinced, then sighed. Her expression softened. "You did have a long day yesterday. But the upcoming moons will be tough, you need to be aware of your surroundings for your sake and the sake of the Clan."

"I know, Misty Step. I'm sorry." 

He noticed Gray Stripe shoot him a sympathetic look from where he stood near Rose Fall, but soon both cats were instead giving a puzzling look to something behind Fire Heart. He scented Dark Pine before he'd turned his head to see him. The dark gray tabby was marching towards Misty Step, chin high.

"Thunder Blue Fur wants to speak to you in her den, Misty Step. Bring your apprentice with you too, she also wants to speak to him." The tom announced, not acknowledging Fire Heart's presence at all.

Misty Step nodded to him, then turned to Rose Fall and Pale Tail. "That match will need to be enough. We will return if there's time."

The tortoiseshell warrior flicked her tail. "Don't worry about it." She meowed, then beckoned Gray Stripe to join her as she padded over to Pale Tail, who had regained his composure and was talking to Swift Bird in low meows.

Gray Stripe shot a puzzled look to Fire Heart, who just shrugged. But as he followed his mentor and Dark Pine to camp, he felt a prickle of unease. Why would Blue Fur call him and his mentor to a meeting out of nowhere?

  As the group reached the ThunderClan camp, Dark Pine split from them and hurried to take a guarding spot by the foot of the Highrock. 

The two cats bounded across the clearing to Blue Fur's den and Misty Step announced their arrival with a quiet mew.

“Enter!” It was Tiger's Claw’s voice that answered from behind the draped lichen. Alarm swept through Fire Heart as he remembered his conversation with his leader on the way to the Gathering. Had she told Tiger's Claw about his accusations? Misty Step pushed her way into the den. Fire Heart followed her uneasily.

Blue Fur was sitting in her nest, her head up and her eyes bright. She looked more like herself than she'd had in a while. Tiger's Claw stood in the middle of the smooth sandstone floor. Fire Heart tried to read his expression, but the great tabby’s eyes were as cold and steady as always. Then, the apprentice finally noticed the presence of Violet Fang on a corner of the den by Blue Fur's nest, and some of his anxiety faded into curiosity. Why had Blue Fur called her deputy, the healer, Misty Step and him to her den?

He wouldn't have to wait long to find out.

"Last night, Violet Fang went to seek StarClan's guidance at my request. She has just returned from the Moonstone." Blue Fur meowed. "As agreed on the Gathering, we'll bring WindClan back. We don't know where they've gone, and needed any information we could to know what kind of operation we needed to prepare for."

On cue, Violet Fang spoke up. "I received a vision of a dark Thunderpath with many monsters roaring past, there was wind and the scent of fire and fear." she rasped. Fire Heart had to stop himself from leaping to his paws. That was just like his dreams! "It's safe to assume that WindClan must've taken shelter in or near a Twolegplace. I would doubt they've headed anywhere near ShadowClan, thus they're probably beyond Highstones." Violet Fang finished. 

Blue Fur nodded to her in thanks, then turned to Misty Step and Fire Heart. "This will be your mission. Misty Step, Fire Heart, I want you to find WindClan and bring it back to its territory." The leader announced.

Fire Heart felt his jaw drop, and quickly closed his mouth shut. A mission, to uncharted territory beyond Highstones! Relief and excitement swept away his anxiety.

“Before you get too excited, bear in mind this could be very dangerous.” Tiger's Claw growled, eyeing Fire Heart. “Despite what we know, we can't be sure where WindClan has gone, so you will have to follow whatever is left of their scent – probably into hostile territory.”

Misty Step frowned. “Will it just be us? Wouldn't it be wiser to at least send another warrior?"

Fire Heart tried to not feel crestfallen at his mentor's words. He knew that a mission of this importance wasn't typically something an apprentice would be involved in.

“It's not ideal, but our other warriors are needed here.” meowed Tiger's Claw. “Leaf-bare is coming, and we need to gather as much fresh-kill as possible. Many prey-poor moons lie ahead.”

Blue Fur nodded. "I understand this is unusual, and I understand your concern, Misty Step. However, you are both already experienced in threading unknown lands, especially for Fire Heart after the ShadowClan mission. Not to mention Fire Heart is still the most knowledgeable cat in the Clan about Twoleg lands." 

Fire Heart shuffled his paws uncomfortably. The gray molly eyed him sympathetically. "No one doubts your loyalty, Fire Heart. It may be time that your roots prove an asset to our Clan." she then straightened up, and regarded them both with serious eyes. “Now, Tiger's Claw will help you prepare for the journey.” Fire Heart’s pads prickled with unease. Blue Fur had as much faith in her deputy as ever. Why was Fire Heart the only cat in ThunderClan who didn’t trust Tiger's Claw?

There was a shuffling noise as Violet Fang got up. She had been looking thoughtful for a while, and now turned to Blue Fur. "Actually… my Thunder. I believe Stone Pelt should also join them in this journey."

Blue Fur blinked in surprise. "Stone Pelt? Why is that?"

"He has warrior and healer training. It might be useful to have a healer, we don't know the shape WindClan will be in. Bark Face was their healer, but he's as old as Wind Tall Tail and we can't know if he's made it to where they are now."

"That leaves us with one less healer." Tiger's Claw observed, eyes narrowed.

"Oh, I'm hardly too old to take care of ThunderClan on my own." Violet Fang rasped, flicking her disheveled tail dismissively. "The other Clans only have one healer each too, I can manage. And-" she added, with a knowing glance towards Blue Fur and Misty Step. "-I'm sure it would benefit Stone Pelt."

Blue Fur had closed her eyes in thought, draping her sleek tail over her paws. Then she finally nodded. "There's sense in what you're saying. Alright. Stone Pelt will go too." She turned to Misty Step. “It's nearly sunhigh. You must leave as soon as possible. At a brisk pace, you'll make it to Highstones before moonhigh. Good luck.”

"We'll find them." Misty Step meowed. She stepped forward to touch noses with her mother as Violet Fang and Fire Heart followed Tiger's Claw out of the den. As he glanced over his shoulder, he noticed Blue Fur's gaze glittering with concern that she hadn't shown in front of the others. 

"... and remember." Blue Fur murmured very softly, so that Fire Heart had to strain his ears to hear it. "You're more important. If it seems like you'll have to risk your lives… come back home immediately. StarClan will find a way to help WindClan without taking you away from me." The lichen curtain blocked Fire Heart's view, not allowing him to see his mentor's reaction. He quickly turned away to not show that he was eavesdropping. 

Violet Fang hurried towards her den, flicking Fire Heart's ear with her tail playfully as she passed. Misty Step joined him and Tiger's Claw soon after.

“Misty Step, you're leading this patrol. It's best if you cut through the moors to reach Highstones. Try to pick up WindClan's trail, make sure you're on the right track.” the deputy told her.

The warrior nodded. Fire Heart began to picture himself charging through the prickly gorse of the uplands in search of the lost Clan.

“You will need herbs for strength and to keep your hunger away. Fetch them from Violet Fang before you leave.” Tiger's Claw paused. "And keep an eye out for RiverClan and ShadowClan. They might be trying to hunt on the moors while they can. If you see a patrol, keep well out of their way."

“Yes, Tiger's Claw.” replied Misty Step.

“They’ll never know we’re out there.” Fire Heart assured him.

“As I would expect.” meowed Tiger's Claw. “Now, go!” Without another word, he turned and bounded away.

“He could have wished us good luck.” Fire Heart murmured as they crossed the clearing toward the healers' den. Misty Step just scoffed in response. Looking at her, the gray molly seemed fully focused on the task at paw. 

It was still cold, despite the sunlight, but neither cat shivered — the previous training session had already warmed Fire Heart up.

They brushed through the fern tunnel that led to the den. In the small clearing, Violet Fang was meowing to Stone pelt, who sat huddled in front of her with ruffled fur.

The old healer turned her head to them briefly. "Your traveling herbs are ready." She rasped, pushing two herb bundles in their direction, before lowering her head and speaking to her apprentice in low mews. 

Fire Heart stared at his bundle while Misty Step lapped the herbs up obediently. Leaf Spots had given them the same herbs when they’d journeyed with Blue Fur to the Moonstone. 

"These are daisy, chamomile and… sorrel, right?" He asked Misty Step.

His mentor passed her tongue around her lips to clean off bits of herb, then shot him a slightly amused look. "I believe so. Burnet too, if I'm not mistaken. You should eat them now, though. You can ask more questions to Stone Pelt on the way, if you'd like." 

Right , Fire Heart thought, reaching down to chew his herb bundle. The leaves were just as unappetizing as they had been the previous time. If only they tasted as nice as they smell .

The gray tom had been coaxed to eat his own herbs, and nodded to his mentor, before padding out of the glade without another word. Misty Step kept pace with her brother, her pelt brushing his.

It was time to go. "Good-bye, Violet Fang!" Fire Heart meowed, quickly touching his nose to the old molly's before sprinting after the other cats.

"Goodbye! And good luck, youngsters!" Violet Fang meowed after them.

As he raced through the tunnel, Fire Heart heard the leaf-fall tinted ferns rustling in the chilly breeze. 

They seemed to be whispering, “Good luck! Travel safely!”

[misc-hamefura-etc]

WN Bonus story - Made by everyone

One of the bonus stories from the WN that wasn’t included in the LNs (yet). This was mostly machine translated. If someone has a better TL let me know and I’ll take this down. 

Otherwise it’s another cute story of Bakarina and friends! XD 

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Made by everyone

My name is Catarina Klaes, 10 years old.

The only daughter of the Duke's family, the fiancée of the third prince of this country ... and the villainous daughter of the maiden game "FORTUNE LOVER" set in this world.

One day when I was eight years old, I remembered the memory of my previous life when I hit my head, and realized that I was reincarnated as a villain daughter who has only a ruin flag in the world of otome games! 

So, by the time I was fifteen years old when the game started, I was trying to avoid the ruin flag, but ... I've come here and a big crisis has come!

It was this morning.

As usual, I asked Anne to peel off the blankets and wake me up, and the weather was nice, so I was eager to go to the garden dashingly, saying, "Now, let's work hard on the fields."

It was a ruthlessly devastated field.

The crops that were growing are full of holes, and the ones that will fall on the soil and will bear fruit are similar. In addition, there are sticky white things all over the place. 

It's been a few years since I started to make a field in the garden of the Klaes family, and it's a garden of an aristocratic mansion. But ...

A foreign enemy has appeared here.

The garden was surrounded by fences and so that wild animals wouldn't come in easily ... but they were coming from the sky.

The appearance of several birds singing cutely with chips was adorable in the garden with a feeling of "pretty".

Recently, I felt that the number of visitors I saw at home has increased since when i first regained my memories.

However, no way they would ruin the fields I made with great care like this ...

"Damn ~, those sparrows!"

I cursed.

When I approach, it escapes temporarily, but when I leave, it returns to the field and finally pecks the fruit.

Quite a few visitors? No, it's done by the number of birds, so it seems that the precious vegetables will all be eaten.

In addition, their poop is scattered everywhere, so it's sticky with white poop all over the place.

This is bad, I have to take some measures!

Chair Catalina Klaes. 

Congressman Catalina Klaes. 

Secretary Catalina Klaes.

Now, let's break through the current situation and open a strategy meeting to avoid the crisis in the fields.

 "Well, everyone, please give us your opinion to protect the important fields."

"Yes"

"……Can I have a minute? 』\

"Yes, please Catarina Klaes"

"I understand that the fields have been devastated and I'm shocked, but do I need to bother to hold a strategy meeting for this project? 』\

"Well, what are you talking about! It's a critical situation because our important field has been devastated! This is a meeting project! 』\

"... But the fields have nothing to do with our doom flag ..."

"Well, I've been enjoying it as a hobby since I knew that it wouldn't be form of communication with the origin of my magic, but ... I mean, now I've set the doom flag aside and it's a field! 』\

"... No, it would be useless if you left it. The doom flag. It depends on Catalina's life. "

"Well, it's okay, because the countermeasures have been put in place ... Well, the snake toys are getting better, and the dirt bump isn't like it's getting higher.  』\

"The quality of snake toys has certainly improved, but I don't think the soil bump has improved at all since the first year ..."

"No, there are times when it feels a little higher, even though it's a few millimeters."

"... It's probably because of that. I feel that 15 cm is the limit. "

"Oh, we're doing a lot about the Doom flag countermeasures, and for the time being, we've gathered in this way, so let's talk about the field countermeasures now."

"Yes"

"Well, that's right."

"So, do you have any good ideas? 』\

"Yes. You should avoid birds in the field. "

"For example, avoid birds? 』\

"Well, uh, put a plastic bottles on the fence? 』\

"Isn't that cat counter measures? 』\

"That's right. Then, the grandmother of the previous life didn't say that you should smell the dog. "

"I think it was a measure against nyctereutees."

(TL Note: sorry i have no idea what shes trying to prevent here) 

"Then, what to do to avoid birds? 』\

"... a scarecrow?"

"That's it. Scarecrow! Grandma had a scarecrow in the field! 』\

"Good nice. If you put up a scarecrow, it would seem like there are people and the birds won't come near. "

"Okay, let's make a scarecrow right away! 』\

"Yes!"

 In this way, I decided to start making scarecrows ...

"In the first place, how should I make it, can I do it if I have a tree?"

When I was thinking about how to make it, my brother Keith said

"What's wrong big sister?"

He kindly asked me, so I talked about the fact that the field was in danger due to sparrows and I was thinking of making a scarecrow as a countermeasure.

"... Scarecrow to avoid birds ... It's amazing what my big sister thinks. I've heard of it, but I haven't seen it properly, so why don't you ask the gardener or someone who seems to know more?"

"I see!"

Let’s just ask the gardener Tom Ji-chan.

I immediately asked Tom Ji-chan how to make a scarecrow.

 Tom Ji-chan, who knows a lot, knew how to make a scarecrow and told me how to make.

I had gathered the necessary materials as taught. 

Then, with Keith helping me, "Now, let's start making scarecrows!” And started preparing in the garden,

"Catarina, what on earth are you trying to do this time?"

My fiancé Geordo, the third prince of the country, popped up and asked with a smile.

(Geordo comes into the mansion with a free pass, so he always comes suddenly)

"Oh, Geordo, I'm going to make a scarecrow from now on."

"What is a scarecrow?"

Oh, the prince doesn't know about Scarecrows, well, he's the prince.

"Scarecrow is a doll in the shape of a person in a rural field."

"Oh, I think I've seen it from a distance, but why make such a thing?"

"That's right ----"

I enthusiastically talked about the crisis in the fields caused by sparrows, so I decided to make a scarecrow! After he got over his shock, he lowered his head as his shoulder trembled. (this is a common Geordo habit).

"If so, let's help me together." he said.

Geordo is a super high-spec person who can even work in the fields smartly, so I'm grateful for his help.

I asked Geordo for cooperation, saying "please".

This time, Geordo's twin brother Alan and his fiancé Mary also came to visit.

When I explained to them that we were going to make a scarecrow,

Alain burst with laughter, "No, you're just in the field, but I'm wondering what it's like to make a bird ward."

Mary said "Please let me cooperate for Catalina's precious field."

 However, if the number of people increased to this point, it would be better to make several Scarecrows rather than making one Scarecrow together, so it was decided to divide the team.

"I'll make it with Catalina, because I'm her fiancé."

"My big sister originally intended to make it with me."

When Geordo and Keith started say those things,

  "Katarina-sama, I'm here to play."

"Apologies for the intrusion"

Sophia and Nicole, the Ascart siblings also came --- the number of Scarecrow-making members increased to seven in a blink of an eye, so I decided to make three.

 At Nicole's suggestion, "Because it's a hassle to divide up, let's draw lots," the lots divided us into three teams.

 "Now, let's do our best"

"Yes, Catalina, let's make a nice scarecrow."

"I like cute things"

Me, Mary, Sophia's girl team.

  "I mean, what is Scarecrow? Nicole, do you understand?"

"Oh, I've seen it before when I went to visit a rural village."

Alan, Nicole's team.

  "... Well, why do I have to work with you?"

"Geordo -sama, I will return the line exactly as it is."

Geordo , Keith's team.

  In this way, everyone made a scarecrow for each.

Everyone helped me with the fields, but it was also fun to do different work together.

And three scarecrows were completed.

The three scarecrows in the garden, the materials themselves should not have changed so much, but each one has its own individuality.

Scarecrow made by our girl’s team is like a cute girl with long hair and fluffy clothes in response to Sophia's suggestion that "I like cute things anyway".

Nicole and Alan team are said to have faithfully reproduced what Nicole had seen before ... It seems that it had a very good male style ... The result was a macho male style scarecrow. ..

And the team of Geordo and Keith ... they created a very realistic human-like scarecrow.

It was a scarecrow like a work of art that brought together the power of Geordo, who can do anything, and Keith, who is dexterous.

However, the impression of everyone who saw such a scarecrow was: 

 "It looks like it's starting to move."

"It's too real and scary"

"Why did you make it so real?"

"..."

 It was not good enough.

For that reason,

 "I told to make a human shape, so I just did what I was told."

"... I haven't seen Scarecrow. I don't know what it is."

 Geordo looked a little sick, and Keith said that he was a little embarrassed, but when I saw the Scarecrows, I was impressed. They could definitely deceive the sparrows!

"If it looks like a human, you can definitely deceive a sparrow! Thank you for the wonderful scarecrow."

When I said that and thanked them, they looked down a little in the same way.

 "... No. There is nothing like this."

"... Yeah. That's right."

 They answered.

 When I looked closely at the two people who looked strange, their faces were blushing.

 Oh, no!

It wasn't that hot yet, but everyone had to work outdoors for quite a long time, so they got hot flashes!

The two of them made a particularly elaborate work of art.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice it. It was hot. Let's go indoors and rehydrate immediately!"

I'm sorry that I'm mentally older than everyone else, but I'm not sure.

I hurriedly took everyone indoors and served tea.

The tea after work was exceptionally delicious, and we all made scarecrows, so we talked about that.

Geordo and Keith were also glad that when they had tea indoors, their hot flashes seemed to have calmed down and their complexion had returned.

 And three scarecrows were placed around the field of the Klaes family.

Girls, Macho men, and real humans.

Occasionally, the servant I saw was mistaken for a person and made a surprised voice, but thanks to him, the sparrow seemed to be able to deceive him well and did not come near, so he was able to escape from the crisis in the field.

[curligurl0896]

So getting to read @thejakeformerlyknownasprince 's FMA AU reminded me of my own ideas for a FMA/Animorphs fic. A crossover, in this case, a Megamorphs of sorts (complete with rotating narration) because I really want an excuse to have the Animorphs interact with the characters of the FMA universe. I don't have enough ideas worked out to confidently write a whole fanfic yet, so I think I'll just share some of my ideas so that at least they don't stay inside my head forever like the vast majority of ideas that I either never finish enough to post it or just never get around to at all, especially when my brain is always generating new plot bunnies instead of focusing on developing the ones I already have, it's so distracting lol

(Also maybe y'all could give some suggestions if you wanna, I'd definitely appreciate it lol)

Anyway, here it is:

First off, the answer as to how exactly the Animorphs end up in the FMA universe: I was kicking around a few ideas for this, and was originally thinking something along the lines of like, a freak accident that somehow results in them ending up in front of the Gate of Truth, but I think a better idea would be for an alchemist (or perhaps even several alchemists) to end up in the Aniverse, get Yeerkified, and the Yeerk (or Yeerks, as it may be), intrigued by the memories and knowledge of an alternate Earth where you can manipulate matter and shape it according to your will with nothing more than a well drawn chalk circle (or even less than that if you've been through the Gate, as the Yeerk(s) will eventually discover), lured in by the idea of a legendary object that supposedly can be used to circumvent a pesky little law known as Equivalent Exchange, decides to pull something of a "Tom's Yeerk and his Yeerk buddies a la book 52" deciding to start their own colony in the FMAverse where they won't have to answer to the Council of Thirteen or the Visserarchy (well, at least the ones higher ranked than the Yeerk in charge, who, I imagine, would have to be a Sub-Visser at the very least to have the power to arrange all this) in addition to being able to use alchemy, which, much like the morphing power, can be used for a massive variety of things, ranging from merely convenient to pretty damn useful in a pinch to OP as fuck to even just downright terrifying.

It takes a lot of time and meticulous planning, of course, as they have to find a way to transport the Yeerks, their ship, and all the other stuff they'll need to thrive over there through the Gate and into the FMAverse-- all while in a universe where alchemy flat out doesn't work. The Yeerks have to figure out how to get around that issue, and it takes at least a year of research and using their new hosts' alchemical knowledge to work out a solution, but they work it out, and soon enough they get everything set up and ready to go. At some point, the Chee find out about this secret unknown project going on, inform the Animorphs about it, and Jake decides that they should at least check it out on the off chance that it's something big.

That's where the story officially starts: with our team of traumatized teenage shapeshifters at the location where this thing is being set up (haven't figured out the where yet). They've spent the past several days spying on these Yeerks, but still aren't sure what exactly is going on-- they keep talking about opening a gate-- and aren't sure if it's worth it. Marco's convinced the whole thing is ridiculous, especially after overhearing a human Controller mention something about a "Philosopher's Stone" ("What is this, Harry Potter? Are they gonna wave wooden sticks around and yell in Latin?") . Rachel is bored at this point, and just wants to kick ass and call it a day-- they were probably up to no good anyway. Cassie isn't particularly keen on the asskicking part, but she's been having a bad feeling about all this that she can't shake, and Tobias agrees that something fishy is going on and says they should wait a few days-- after all, from what they've gleaned, whatever plans these Yeerks had would be set in motion very soon. Ax, being Ax, declares as usual that he'll just go along with whatever Prince Jake orders, though when Jake presses him about his opinion, he just says he isn't sure what to make of it. In the end, they keep it up for a couple more days, and sure enough, the time comes for the Yeerks to "open the gate", whatever that means.

After all the time they'd spent spying on the Yeerks, it is conveniently now, when the Yeerks are about to do their thing, that they're discovered. It quickly turns into a fight, and the Animorphs attempt to bail as they're soon overwhelmed-- and then the Gate is opened.

None of them had any idea what to expect next. They certainly weren't expecting the blue lightning that erupted around them in a massive circle, seeming to originate from the curving lines that had been so painstakingly carved into the floor. They aren't expecting the atmosphere to turn dark and purple and creepy, or for a giant grey eye to suddenly appear beneath them, or for wavy black tentacle arms to come out of that eye. And they definitely were NOT expecting to abruptly find themselves in the white void of Zerospace.

Only they aren't in Z-space, exactly. Surrounded by it, sure, but somehow they stand there, as if on solid ground, surrounded by the eerie blankness that had once nearly suffocated them to death.

Each Animorph is utterly alone, with nothing and no one else in sight. That is, until they hear a voice, one that sounds like several voices speaking in unison, and suddenly they see a figure-- or, more accurately, an outline of a figure, with only shadows to mark where the figure ended and the void began. The figure is shaped like a human in all but Ax and Tobias's case: the figure Ax sees is shaped like an Andalite, and Tobias's version takes the form of a bird.

Truth gives the whole "I am God, I am the world, and I am also you" speech, then informs them they can't pass through the Gate without payment. Suddenly, there's a huge gateway where previously there was nothing. Truth is unconcerned with the fact that these "A-ni-morphs" have zero clue what's going on-- it simply takes the required toll and sends them on their way.

Except the toll is literal body parts-- which, even then, isn't usually a big deal for an Animorph, but in this case it absolutely is a big deal, because, as they'll soon discover, there's no way they're going to just replace their lost limbs through morphing. It's expressly forbidden for one to simply have nice things in this universe; in other words, Truth isn't letting them off the hook that easily.

The discovery that they're not able to replace their lost body parts through morphing is especially horrifying to Ax, because, well, y'know... book 40. The one that every Ax fan, and really anyone who otherwise genuinely enjoys Ax's character, would like to pretend never fucking happened.

In fact, given Truth's precedent for irony when extracting payment from people who've opened/been through the Gate in the series, I have no doubt in my mind that Ax would end up suffering the exact same fate as Mertil. Andalites, after all, place high value on their tail blades, especially the warriors; it's their number one go-to weapon when shit hits the fan. Ax himself is such a warrior, in fact it's a huge part of who he is as a person. Needless to say I think yeeting Ax's tail blade would be the exact kind of twisted irony that Truth would employ.

He gets over himself eventually-- well, sort of. However, it takes him a long time to truly come to terms with it-- instead of accepting that the attitudes he'd been taught his whole life regarding those who aren't fully able-bodied are actually shit, I feel like he'd be more likely to double down on them, internalizing them, and actually go into full-on self loathing as a result.

He holds his metaphorical tongue, though, upon seeing that Tobias has suffered a payment that is arguably far more cruelly ironic-- given that Tobias is a bird, given that his initial attraction to the morph that eventually became his default body came from the sense of freedom and escapism only provided through flying, I think it's fairly obvious what Truth would take: his wings.

As for the others: Rachel has lost her arm (for basically the same reason Ed did), Cassie loses her hands (which she uses to, you know, help injured animals and stuff), and as for Jake... well, it was a bit of a struggle, the best I could come up with is the idea of him going blind much like Mustang did after being forced to open the Gate (though maybe not for the same reason, though... idk. If anyone has any better suggestions, please let me know lol, I couldn't think of any solid ideas for what body part would be ironic for Jake to lose). Marco is the only one who doesn't lose any outwardly visible body parts-- what he loses is his voice.

At some point, they are discovered, taken into custody by the Amestrian military, and eventually they end up in Colonel Mustang's office. Mustang listens to their story with a massive dose of skepticism. He isn't sure what to make of these bizarre barefoot children, nor their claims of fighting bodysnatching slugs from outer space by turning into animals, nor their wingless pet hawk, nor... well, he could only assume the other creature was some sort of chimera, although he had zero clue what animals could have possibly been used to make something with blue fur and extra eyes.

At this point, they're about to do a morphing demonstration to prove to the Colonel that they aren't completely batshit, when suddenly the door is slammed open, and a teenage boy with blond hair and sharp golden eyes comes sauntering in, accompanied by a hulking giant covered head to toe in a suit of armor.

The boy immediately starts shouting at Mustang, calling him a bastard and accusing him of wasting his time, to which Mustang responds by merely rolling his eyes and sighing, as if this sort of thing happens all the time (spoiler alert: it does). After a moment, the kid stops as he takes notice of the other kids standing in the room.

"So," he says, calmly, as if he wasn't yelling at his superior just a moment ago, "what's the deal with these fuckers?"

The casual use of the kind of language that would have surely landed them in hot water back home was quite shocking, but they don't comment on it. Instead, Rachel says, in a voice sweet as honey, "Oh, look, Marco. He's just as short as you are."

Before Marco could turn to glare daggers at her (come on, it wasn't like he could argue back in that moment), the boy goes absolutely ballistic, and the armored guy has to physically restrain him as he screams obscenities at Rachel ("The fuck did you just call me, you freakishly oversized bitch? I'll show you too-fucking-short-to-fucking-sit-at-the-fucking-table-without-a-fucking-booster-seat! Call me short one more fucking time, I fucking dare you to! You think I give a shit that you're a girl? I'll fuck that pretty face of yours right up, just you fucking wait--")

"Brother!" The armored guy cries. "Calm down!" Then, to the Animorphs: "I'm sorry about my brother's behavior. He's, um, a bit sensitive about his height."

"A bit sensitive" is the understatement of the century, but none of the Animorphs call him out on it. They're too dumbfounded by the sound of his voice, which sounds sweet, innocent, and, despite his size, sounds like it belonged to a boy no more than nine or ten years old.

And that's where I'm going to leave it for now, since I've spent way too long on this post already. I have a few other ideas, but mostly in bits and pieces, not really any more comprehensive plot points beyond this point. Please do let me know what you think!

[forgottenyogurtgods]

Noblesse Oblige

Summary: Robin Hood AU. (Sort of.) After her father is arrested for harboring and aiding the wanted criminal, Chat Noir, Marinette must seek him out or lose her father to a crime he did not commit.

Chapitre un

Tricheure’s Not So Great Escape

She woke up slowly, different things registering at different times. The smell of rain – of wet and earth and green – greeting her before she even dared to open her eyes. It was early, she could tell by the chill that still lingered in her room and the songs of the birds.

She turned over, pulling the light blankets tighter to her form. It was too early for her to be awake yet. Or she hoped so. The moment she opened her eyes she knew that she would be unable to return to the lull of sleep, no matter what time it actually was. She was half tempted to lie in bed all morning.

Down below, she could hear the sounds of her parents already working in the boulangerie. They had to be some of the first people up in the bastide. No one in Ville sur les Rochers ever awoke without smelling the bread baking inside the village walls.

The heat of the oven was only just starting to penetrate the floor of her room, as it usually did. This was quite the feat, seeing as how there was a whole floor between her and the boulangerie. Shortly after she had been born, her room was built on top of the main house. It was a little tower, of sorts, only accessible through a ladder and a trapdoor. 

It was not unheard of for her to pull up the ladder when she wanted to be left to herself and unbothered. Or when she was angry or annoyed with one or both of her parents. This had become a rare event as she got older. She got along better with them – her mother in particular – now that she was out of her adolescence.

Speaking of her parents, she would have to go down soon and help them. There was a lot of dough that had to be mixed, kneaded, shaped, and baked. While her parents could manage the mass of villagers and villeins, her assistance eased the load somewhat.

After another moment or two of lying there, she opened her eyes. Grey light greeted her. She yawned and stretched, letting out a whine as her spine realigned and her muscles got used to moving once more. She wiped the gunk from her eyes, ignoring the feeling of the drool that had dried on her cheek while she slept.

Quick as she pleased, she went about her morning ritual of washing her face and lacing her kirtle, tying her apron around her waist. She braided her hair, pulling it back underneath a linen cloth and pinning them in place. She checked to make sure everything was straight, then started downstairs. She stopped when she saw her bare feet. 

She’d forgotten her hose and shoes.

“Good morning, Maman, Papa,” she said as she rounded the end of the stairs and stepped into the boulangerie. Her parents smiled at her and welcomed her when they saw her. Her father was kneading the dough, and her mother was checking the fire’s temperature for baking. 

“Good morning,” her father, Tom, said. He bowed down so he could kiss the top of her head, the lowest he could reach while he worked. He was a tall and broad man, almost three times larger than his petite wife and daughter. He didn’t seem to mind, though. 

“Hello, Marinette,” her mother, Sabine, said. She wiped her hands on her own apron, turning and opening her arms to hug the young woman. Marinette was quick to embrace her, pecking a kiss on her cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” she said, slowly pulling away. “I had a good dream last night. Can’t remember what it was about, but it was happy.”

“Ah, maybe it was about some handsome knight who came to sweep you away?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Her mind went to her memories of the year before when knights would periodically show up in their village while they headed on to fight the war against the Britons.

“Maybe you dreamed about the mysterious bandit, Chat Noir,” her father said, wiggling his fingers dramatically at her, “and his Green Men.”

“He’s just some vigilante,” Marinette said, rolling her eyes. “He’s going to get someone hurt or, worse, killed one of these days. He might drag the village down with him if he’s not careful. People are already talking of an outlaw hunter making his way here.”

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[powerosewaterpuff]

so i was having mary and john grayson feels bc i always do ofc, and i decided well if i can’t find any other fics and headcanonns? imma make them myself hehe soo enjoy ! (heads up tho, it’s a l o t hehe)

Mary Grayson

-cannot cook, she is absolutely a w f u l at it but oh my god she loves watching john cook. she even follows him around, writing in a little journal about all the different recipes and steps, bc she is d e t e r m i n d to be able to make something other then cereal

-she always lets dick attempt to braid her hair, and even though it might come out looking bumpy and uneven, she couldn’t care less bc the smile on her sons face is priceless

- loves the summer, basking in the sun on a wide beach is her ideal happy place, because the winter reminds her a little too much of memories she wishes she could suppress

-she always sticks her tongue out just a bit when she’s focused on something, john still blushes when he sees that

-isn’t an avid reader, but she could watch johns facial expressions as he rereads the same twist in his favourite novel for the rest of her life

-she has a small array of ear piercings, which include three piercings on each lobe and upper lobe (the first she had received when she was a baby, and it had been her grandmothers idea), then she has a helix hoop piercing on each ear with a little stud underneath the hoop of the right ear. (Dick loves them, and always had a habit of fiddling with them even as a baby.)

-her laugh could be described as, (as courtesy of john grayson), “the sound of wind chimes billowing against the breeze, and then she starts snortin—Hey! It’s the truth, what do you want me to lie, mary?”

-dick most definitely inherited her eyelashes, long, dark and curled. she also tends to argue that he got her humour too, but john adamantly defends his honour as, “the most hilarious human being to walk the earth, and dick most definitely got my sense of humour, e x c u s e you, mariam.”

-she is infinitely glad that her and john have a very equal parenting system, without one person needing to be the primary disciplinarian as they work as a united front. (except when john and dick come inside the trailer, dragging in mounds of dirt from a flimsy soccer game. then? shes usually the disciplinary one then, shooing them to go take a shower and telling them that they needed to make sure every i n c h of dirt is out of the trailer before she’s done her afternoon stretches.)

-she’s a very bold and opinionated person, but stubbornly independent with a strong moral system and a fierce temper. she isn’t accustomed to asking for help, and is always expecting to be disappointed or let down. she’s always waiting for the catch to come into play, with john though? it never did

-the second dick gives her his puppy dog eyes, it’s over. she’ll give up the cookies she’s hidden in the top shelf, she’ll give him the biggest hug, she’ll practically do anything, and mary thinks john is the exact same.

-her gut instincts are scarily right, to the point where her best friend, the magicians assistant, is convinced she’s a psychic of some sort.

- the day she met john, she had heard about a young circus boy about her age coming to live with his great aunt in her neighborhood, but hadn’t really paid it any mind.

-it wasn’t until one neighbourhood party, that she locked eyes with a pair of vibrant blue eyes with a deeply rooted fire within them. it gave her a shock of adrenaline, and excitement, the same thing she felt when she was about to go on stage as a ballerina or about to face the uneven bars as a gymnast. it wasn’t a nervous bout of a adrenaline, it was a calming rush, one that filled her bones with a thrill beyond all compare. (Little did she know, the second john had locked eyes with a pair of lively green eyes, he had found what he was looking for.)

- mary was a natural born contortionist, with a flexibility she acquired from years of ballet as well as gymnastics. learning how to work the trapeze was a whole other thing though, as it was a little odd to adjust at first. she loved johns freedom and wild nature while soaring through the air though, a lot more then she loved the rigidness of her own form. (john disagreed vehemently, the way mary moved was like she was one with the air and the air was one with her, and he admits that was she an incredibly quick learner.)

-will always watch cartoons with dick, whether it be The Simpsons one evening or Tom & Jeremy the next.

-johns singing is her favourite thing ever, she always begs him to sing her to sleep and some nights, when john feels a deep rooted knot tug at his chest, mary is sweetly singing, “here comes the sun,” by the beatles in his ear

-her and johns go to song to get dick to sleep is, “little bird, little bird,” by elizabeth mitchell. she always changes the last bird, a whip-poor-well, to a robin bird. it’s a little offbeat but she thinks dick likes it. (dick loves it.)

-has an unparalleled amount of energy, and is always bursting with exuberance, the only one who can really challenge her on that is dick. both of them are absolute adrenaline junkies.

-has an insatiable love for period dramas, it is her absolutely guilty pleasure and will be found watching tapes of her favourite show in the living room at like 3am

-she loves the smell of burning wood and loves sitting outside of summer nights, taking in the sounds of the cicadas and the cold breeze.

-she is absolutely exasperated with her sons ability to make friends with injured woodland animals, it was adorable and absolutely darling to an extent, but oh my god if she had to handle one more skunk with a broken leg or a fox with its leg stuck to a wooden post, she would consider barricading the circus.

-(she loves buying matching clothing for her family and her, but what she loves the most is dressing john and dick up to match, she has a whole box filled with those pictures, which would be perfect blackmail material once dick was in his teens.)

John Grayson

-is one of the most laid back human beings, he always has a lazy smile and gentle mischief twinkling in his eyes. (but fuck with his family and see what happens, he dares you.)

-his eyes are practically identical to dicks, in every shape, way and form. but dicks have an unstoppable light in them, that his just don’t have but he’s so happy they do.

-loves to overspray his cologne just to irritate mary, her scrunched up nose his absolutely adorable. (but he still couldn’t get why she didn’t like that cologne, it was fucking amazing)

-curses like an absolute sailor, and mary isn’t any better but she’s far better at censoring herself. john has had to slap a hand around his mouth a few times to avoid having to explain the word, “shit,” to dick.

-christmas is his favourite time of the year without a doubt, and loves to be curled up on his worn couch with a novel in hand in front for a fire.

-is an avid prankster, but if you confront him about it, he’ll give you a trademarked Grayson smile, and tilt his head to the side questioningly.

-his laugh is like (as courtesy of mary grayson), “a crash of waves, refreshing and loud with a distinct clarity, and then he starts to w h e e z—Hey! it’s the truth! I thought you were against lying, huh?”

-he’s ticklish, and his brother along with his wife and son take advantage of that way too much.

-dick is legit attached to this mans hip 24/7, like if you see john strolling around the circus there is a 94% chance that dick is either riding on his shoulders or settled comfortably on his hip.

-the day he met mary, he had felt a little out of place and stilted at this neighbourhood party. but he sucked it in bc anything was better then going back to his home, so he took a shaky breathe and tried to converse with his great aunts friends, until the music started and he locked eyes with a pair of lively green eyes, and he had found exactly what he was a looking for. a fleeting purpose that could so easily slip between his finger tips but the thrill to latch onto it was expanding in his chest. and he realized that if he didn’t march right on over there and talk to this girl, he would’ve lost something he didn’t even knew he could lose.

- playing guitar had always been a little bit of a therapeutic thing, because even though he tried to be practicing their act every single minute of his day, there were times where he needed to sit under a tree with his son curled in his lap, his leather jacket draped on him. the love of his life and the afterlife curled up next to him, with his blistered fingers from dealing with ropes all day strumming the guitar.

-the biggest elvis presley, beatles and rat pack fan in the world. he also loves louis armstrong as well as nat king cole. (he grew up with this music as his first big introduction to north american music as well as culture.)

-open communication and emotions are a big thing for him, he never wants anything to be misinterpreted and he tries his hardest to make sure neither him nor mary ever go to sleep angry with one another. they argue a decent amount, bc they both have wild tempers (johns is a flame that’s difficult to light but once it does he’ll have a vicious tongue of a temper, and mary’s is a quick lighter that can be easily put out but for the time that it burns holy shit she’s scary,) but they always work things out by talking to one another at the dinner table.

-this man lives and breathes sarcasm, to the point where people never really know if he’s being sarcastic or not (mary does, and it annoys him to no end.)

-always playing with his hair, or he’s playing with mary’s or dick’s. it’s become a little of a nervous habit for him, but also a way to relax.

-was always insecure about how short and scrawny he was as a kid, even now once he’s filled into pure muscle and but still a little short compared to others. however, he uses his body to his advtange though, he can easily be the strong man of the act, and can easily balance both dick and mary with one hand. he’s immensely proud of that, and shows it off as much as he can.

-just to annoy mary, he’ll slowly lift his son up and they’ll give the exact same puppy dog eyes and pout. mary will legit do anything they want (he wasn’t ready for mary to come in one day, blinking her beautiful green eyes and pouting, with dick settled on her hip doing the exact same thing as they ask for chocolate pancakes one morning. it’s fair to say he sprinted out of bed and straight to the kitchen.)

-despises hunting for sport and guns, his father owned an array of hunting guns that were always proudly polished and hung on the walls of their trailer. john fucking hated it, and was about to blow a fuse when one of the circus members decided to take dick on a hunting trip without asking. (he held dick close that night as he cried bc he didn’t understand why they had shot the deer when it looked so happy.)

-is the absolutle biggest crybaby when it comes to Heidi (the book) and has rewatched Kiki’s Delivery Service with dick like 30 times? he cries every time ( “mARY SHES SO SAD OH MY GOD AND SHE DOESNT UNDERSTAND J I J I ANYMOREEEE.”) (“sEE GRANDFATHER DOES CARE AND THE SYMBOLISM MARY THE SYMBOLISM.”)

-loves looking up at the stars, and liked to memorize their names as well as patterns as a kid. he was overjoyed to share this with dick, as they lay down on the roof of their circus caravan, point out constellations and tell their stories (dick would always perch himself on the tallest skyscraper in gotham, on a clear summer evening, just to get a one glance at the stars at again before the smog rolls in. he swears he saw cassiopeia once, but maybe he was just wishing he did. )

-is equally stressed by dick’s unprecedented love of making friends with the most random things, is also stressed because his son is this tiny kid who keeps getting himself stuck in bushes then runs home, covered in thorns but still has the biggest smile. john is usually on first aid duty, and he just knows that his kid would run into the sun exploding with a bright smile plastered on his face.

[friendlyneighborhoodsecretary]

3. Prompt: Gardening

By his third day of hiding out at the lakehouse post-Beck, Peter had run out of distractions. Going anywhere near his phone or the TV was out of the question. He couldn't concentrate well enough to do any of the suit tinkering or web fluid adjustments he would usually have fallen back on. He'd already made the rounds of the house, fixing the little leaks and squeaks and anything else he could mindlessly turn a wrench to (not that there were many in a Stark-built home). And there were only so many times a person could take a stroll around the same lake and skip the same stones and swing their legs off the same dock before they went thoroughly and irreversibly insane. He was all but vibrating with restless nerves. And being cooped up out here, where the silence of the woods pressed in on him like dungeon walls and the empty hours yawned ahead of him like a life sentence, wasn’t making it any easier.

By the time Pepper found him after lunch on the third day, he was dangling upside down from the eaves, absently shifting from foot to foot and counting the seconds to see how long it took before he fell. It was possible, Peter realized as he dropped sheepishly back down to the floorboards—just possible—that he might have already slipped over the edge.

“Trust me—I’ve seen worse.” Pepper hadn’t even batted an eye as she brushed off his sputtered explanations. She’d just gathered up the sunhats and the neat bundle of work gloves from the shelf by the door and towed him through the back door with the practiced efficiency of someone who was used to managing chaos before it tipped over into calamity. "Come with me.”

He trailed her reluctantly around the side of the house to the neat rows of raised beds that housed Pepper's garden. Carefully-staked tomato plants here, the scraggly foliage of carrot tops there, lines of squat goji bushes in one bed and the small round buds of new lettuces in another—there were a few things he could identify, but many more that were just...green. Green and vibrant and robust, leaves gently rustling in the hot July breeze and produce of varying sizes and shapes ripening in the sun. He was pulled from his inspection by Pepper pushing a pair of the gardening gloves into his hands and dropping a broad-brimmed sunhat over his eyes (“Yes, I know you’re superhuman, but I don’t think skin cancer discriminates like that”). There was a brief summary of which greens were intentional and which were intrusive, a deft demonstration of proper weed-yanking technique, and then Peter was shepherded to a row of carrots for practice. Pepper settled in amongst an adjacent patch of lettuce and left him to the job. For a moment, he just sat there, the grass prickling against his knees and the sweat beginning to bead up under the heavy gloves as he brooded. Gardening. What was he doing puttering around in the Starks’ backyard, gardening, while his actual life imploded out there in the real world? At least Pepper had earned the break—he caught snatches of her phone calls to the legal team, to the publicists, to all the people who were actually doing something about the mess he was in, and the reality that he wasn’t one of them stung every time.

Peter stared out over the sea of bobbing leaves and sighed. Still, if it wasn’t gardening, what else would it be? More waiting and wondering and wearing new tennis shoe trails in the track around the lake? One was about as productive as the other. Peter squared his shoulders and bent to the task in front of him. If he was going to lose his mind out in the wilderness, he might as well be helpful while he was doing it.

As it turned out after half of an hour’s worth of work, there was something weirdly soothing about kneeling in the dirt and burying yourself in the process of pinpointing what stayed and what went. In the careful concentration it took to yank up a stubborn weed without uprooting anything good that happened to be growing near it. In the calming repetition of pinching off a dead leaf here or a damaged stalk there. There were ladybugs crawling lazily along the stems, occasionally bumping against Peter’s fingertips a few times before they grudgingly redirected around him, and a few birds hopping cautiously along the rim of the beds, mining for unlucky creepy crawlies. It was a steady rhythm of activity—just enough of it to keep Peter’s mind from straying too far beyond the next bunch of nettles to dig out—with a refreshingly comfortable lack of pressure or tension.

Pepper didn't say much, but the silent companionship was…nice. In a way, it was soothing, too. Or, at the very least, a relief from May's fretting and Happy's hovering—not that there was anything wrong with either of those, per se, but when it was all you had day in and day out, it began to smother you alive. The summer sun beat down on his back, the breeze swept lazily across his brow, and for a while, time ceased to exist. There was nothing but the black earth under his hands and the scent of topsoil in his lungs and the steady cycle of the job.

"I started planting things a few months after we moved out here," Pepper said quietly, a solid hour into their work. "Not much at first—just enough to give us a reason to be out in the light rather than holing up inside."

"Us? Mr. Stark helped?" It was an odd image—Peter had always had trouble imagining Tony out in the country at all, let alone elbow-deep in a tangle of zucchini plants or hauling buckets of fertilizer. But then, most of life these days was odd—Tony was recovering from saving the literal universe with a snap of his fingers, Pepper was flicking aphids off of her tomato plants, and Peter felt increasingly more like he was just along for the ride.

Pepper’s mouth twisted in a wry grimace.

"I'm not sure 'help' is the right word given how some of those first few plants fared, but yes, he did pitch in. Under duress, sometimes, but it grew on him.” Peter let out an obligatory snort at the pun, and Pepper forged on, the faint smirk on her lips the only indication that she’d meant it as one. “I saw a quote once—a very, very cheesy Pinterest sort of thing—about planting a garden being an act of belief in having a tomorrow. And back then, right after the Blip, we needed any hope for tomorrow we could find. Or cultivate, as the case may be.”

“It was a good way to refocus. To step back and take a break from trying to put the world back together.” Pepper shot him a pointed look over the carrot tops, and Peter pointedly ignored it. “It was a good distraction, too. I think Tony spent at least five or six hours a day out here during the weeks before Morgan was born, when all we could do was wait for something to happen.”

Peter paused in chucking a handful of weedy foliage at the compost-bound pile that had sprung up between them. The relentless urge to find something, anything helpful to do had eased a little, but it was far from gone. He pursed his lips as he finally turned back to uproot another fistful.

"I just—I wish there was something I could do besides waiting out here. I mean, everything that’s happening is all my fault, but you're the one who's having to fix it and I know it has to be costing you an awful lot and—"

Pepper tipped her sunhat back to level him with a long, hard look that reminded him forcefully of May when she was gently, but firmly pointing out the obvious facts of life, such as "the homework won't do itself" or "the laundry will not make its way from the dryer to your room by magic" or “that Red Bull won’t give you actual wings, so you’d better not expect gravity to give you preferential treatment.”

"Peter. There isn't a single person in this house who wouldn't spend their last dime on making sure you get through this okay. And believe me when I say that we've got a long, long way to go before we even need to start worrying about burning through Stark Industries' supply of dimes."

Peter opened his mouth, a dozen arguments about his opinion of throwing other people’s money at his problems, about sitting on the sidelines while everyone else did the work, about running from the consequences of his own blunders all welling up on the tip of his tongue.  Pepper cut them off.

“You’ll have your work cut out for you in a few weeks, when things have settled a little more and there are fewer people agitating to have you arrested. When that happens, we’ll all work on fixing this together. Until then…try to take advantage of the rest.” Her voice softened. “I know it isn’t easy, Peter. But you’re wrong about it being your fault—and it certainly isn’t your sole responsibility to fix. You’ve got a lot of people on your team.” She coaxed the last tendrils of unwanted clover from her last row and rocked back on her heels. “And a whole lot of tomorrow to believe in. Even if it isn’t exactly what you were envisioning it would be a few weeks ago.”

"Thanks,” Peter murmured. It would’ve sounded trite from anyone else, but from Pepper—Pepper, whose practicality rivaled May’s and whose honesty could rival Happy’s (just in a more polished, less aggressively blunt way)—he could almost believe it. “Not just for this, but you know—for everything."

"Any time, kid.” Pepper shucked her gloves and brushed the dirt from her knees as she stood. She left him to it with a squeeze of his shoulder and an unshakably reassuring smile that Peter would hold onto for a long time to come. He stayed out in the green until the breeze blowing in off the lake had turned cool, and the twilight had started creeping in among the shadows of the pines. There was still a knot of unease in his chest when he finally meandered inside, but it was…smaller. More manageable. The driving restlessness of that morning had been driven out by the bone-deep exhaustion of a long afternoon in the heat and the distinctive tingle of a rising sunburn. It took a solid ten minutes to scrub the grit from his palms and the dirt from under his fingernails, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he didn't feel like he'd completely wasted his day. He stumbled through a hazy shower and an even hazier dinner before he fell into bed. And for the first time since he'd arrived, sleep came without a fight. For the first time since he’d arrived, he was too tired to dread it. And while he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe in tomorrow…he didn’t dread the idea of meeting it, either.

[transformersaesthetics]

Dark of the Moon

TUMBLR! I deeply apologize for the extended hiatus. Life is sometimes hard. But, to make it up to you, I return, for the first time in a long time, with, gasp, an actual essay analyzing the actual aesthetics of a transformers toyline! We’ve got Dark of the Moon, people!

Without further ado,

Transformers: Dark of the Moon was the third entry into the series of Michael Bay’s Transformers movies. Dark of the Moon (DOTM) continued to evolve the aesthetics of the film franchise, and introduced many of the aesthetic traits that would come to define subsequent films, such as extremely human Autobots and drawing and occasionally tweaking pre-existing models from previous films to fill out the cast. The toyline continued to evolve many of the features found in previous movie toylines, such as automated gimmickry, high levels of complexity, Human Alliance figures, and others. 

Aesthetically, DOTM is significantly busier than its predecessors. In many respects, ROTF represents a smooth and fairly coherent outgrowth of the visual language of the first film. While DOTM is clearly drawn from the same source, sometimes quite literally, it lacks much of the unity of the earlier media. Although one concept artist, Josh Nizzi, was responsible almost all of the designs of Dark of the Moon (“Nizzi continued Megatron's evolution, as well as designing Shockwave, Soundwave and Laserbeak, the Wreckers and Dreads...pretty much everybody except Wheeljack and Brains”, the straight reuse of models from ROTF and the first film, the presence of many generics without alternate modes, and the iconic elements of the aforementioned characters Wheeljack and Brains contributes to the lack of a strong aesthetic identity for DOTM. (Apcog)

        Like Revenge of the Fallen before it, DOTM reused the models of the core cast of autobots, with minor cosmetic changes for Bumblebee and others, and back characters from previous films as themselves, most notably Barricade. (ItsWalky, Dark)  However, DOTM also uses generic models to fill out a large army of generic enemies. One of the central plot points of DOTM is a pitched battle in Chicago, featuring wave upon wave of Decepticons versus the Autobots. (ItsWalky, Dark) In order to have the requisite number of bodies to fill out a whole army, DOTM adopted several approaches. Several generics with unique models were created; many of these were only onscreen for a handful of seconds, and never received a figure or even a name. It is often possible to watch the entire movie without realizing that a particular model, like that of new character Devcon, has been on screen. (Tom Servo) Most of the characters, however, were straight asset reuses from the previous films. Examples include Scrapper and Long Haul, two ROTF era decepticon models, reuse of the first movie Brawl/Demolisher M1 Abrams model, Sideway’s Audi R8 from ROTF, Lensmeter decepticons, reusing Scalple’s ROTF model, and others. (ItsWalky, Dark). While ROTF had often used multiple constructicons, particularly in the Egypt scene, to pad the ranks of the enemy forces, those models originated in that film, and aren’t reuse in the sense employed here. This reuse somewhat complicates the issue of what can be said to be the aesthetic of Dark of the Moon; obviously, these models are part of the finished film. However, they are simply drawn wholesale from previous efforts. They constitute, therefore, a part of the aesthetic of the film despite not being originally from it, creating one of many subcategories of the aesthetic of the movie. 

    We also find a lack of cohesion in the designs that are original to DOTM as well. In the first movie, the Decepticons were all military vehicles, with the exception of Megatron, who didn’t have an earth based alternate mode, and Barricade, who turned into a police car. (ItsWalky, Transformers) In DOTM, there is no such clear unifying element. On the Decepticon side, five new characters are introduced; Shockwave, Laserbeak, and the three Dreads. (ItsWalky, Dark) Megatron and Soundwave also receive completely overhauled designs. (Apcog) All of these characters have very distinct alternate modes and high level concepts. The dreads are three different robots that each turn into identical chevy suburbans. (Khajidha, Dreads) Laserbeak can turn into anything (SFH, Laserbeak). Soundwave turns into a fancy Mercedes (Servitor 2152). Megatron turns into a Mad Max styled Mack truck, and Shockwave doesn’t actually transform in the film, although his toys are generally given some pseudo tank alternate mode. (M Sipher, Shockwave; Dark T Zeratul) 

        The robot modes share this lack of cohesion. In the first movie, the decepticons all shared monstrous proportions and strongly angular, insectoid heads. In DOTM, Laserbeak is a bird, and the Dreads are based on nothing so much as the Predator. (SFH, Laserbeak ; Khadijah, Dreads) Like the Dreads, Shockwave is quite monstrous, but lacks earth based alternate mode detailing. (M Sipher, Shockwave) His head is no longer clearly insectoid, and is quite visually distinct from those of the Dreads, or Soundwave’s new head. While Megatron was much the same in ROTF, in DOTM he once again has an alternate mode, and sheds much of the anonymous metal tangles that once comprised his robot mode in favor of vehicle kibble, differentiating him from Shockwave. 

        The Autobots also had a lot going on. Several autobots were introduced for this movie; Dino, Sentinel Prime, Wheeljack (Que), Brains, and the Wreckers. (ItsWalky, Dark) As with the Decepticons, each of these has a very pronounced aesthetic, but they don’t have much in common with each other. Sentinel Prime draws many visual cues from Optimus Prime’s design, particularly around the head, in the way his legs are shaped, and the cab chest. (Charles RB) The Wreckers all turn into Nascars (sometimes customized with a massive array of weaponry), and their robot modes feature styling based on the stereotypical Nascar fan such as mullets and shades. (Derik) Brains and Wheeljack have glowing, floaty hair, strangely human eyes, and pronounced teeth. (SFH, Que)  To top it all off, all of the Autobots occasionally sport a ‘Stealth Force’ mode, where their vehicles grow an array of weapons comparable to the Wreckers. (ItsWalky, Stealth) 

While even from the outset the Autobots had less in common than the Decepticons, in Dark of the Moon there is almost nothing to unify them. Even elements that they had shared before, such as blocky heads, are now largely absent. Dino’s head is quite different from even Sideswipe, who was introduced in the previous film. (M Sipher, Dino)  Where before the heads of the Autobots had been blocky, with clearly defined features such as noses and mouths, Dino’s head is largely smooth, with no obvious features other than his unnaturally round eyes. (M Sipher, Dino) Wheeljack and the Wreckers drift in the opposite direction, from humanoid to being essentially metal people. This aesthetic decision presaged things to come; in Age of Extinction and the Last Knight, most of the new characters featured this sort of ‘metal person’ styling. 

Each faction has a handful of distinct aesthetics, conspiring overall to give the film a lack of singular purpose in design. Where ROTF and the first movie had featured a strong and well defined visual language, DOTM is a seemingly directionless mix of the work of various artists from various points in time. While individual characters have strong visual identity and design elements, as a whole, the film lacks any unifying elements to focus these individual designs, save perhaps the extreme complexity that is the trademark of the franchise. The result is an aesthetic that feels like nothing so much as an arbitrary grouping of disconnected ideas. 

When translated to the toyline, these notions become even more complex, in part because the toyline omits features found in the film, and in part because the toyline introduces features unique to it. 

DOTM was the last movie toyline to feature a high proportion of toy only characters; AOE had only two, and one was a redeco of a character who did appear in the film. (Seichi, Age) As a result, the toyline has features of many of the first two movie lines. Toy-only characters tend to have a softer implementation of the iconic movie aesthetic, garnering their highly detailed appearance from detaining on solid pieces of the alt mode, rather than revealing an entirely new set of details in robot mode by rearranging vehicle shell.  Like ROTF and the first movie line before it, DOTM issued a slew of retailer exclusive decos of figures, both ones new to DOTM and preexisting ones.(Seichi) These also lend unique design elements to the toyline.

DOTM elaborated on the automated gimmickry in the previous two movie lines. Where before the gimmick had been on the figures themselves, in DOTM, the automated features, now referred to as Mech Tech, were found instead on spring loaded weapon accessories packaged with all figures of deluxe and voyager classes. (Eagc7; Seichi)

The Human Alliance sub-branding was now expanded to include figures roughly analogous in size to the scout figures of previous lines. DOTM also included “the Cyberverse subline featuring Legends Class characters, Commander Class (new price point, effectively replacing Scouts)” (Seichi;Khajidha) This subline emphasized the interactivity of figures and playsets. Moreover, “toys were roughly in relative scale with each other”, which served to reinforce the concept of Cyberverse, not as individual toys, but as an ecosystem. (Khajidha) 

Following in the footsteps of the first two movie lines, DOTM featured many toys targeted at a much younger audience. These included Activators, Bash Bots, Revving Robots and Go-bots, all of which were much simpler figures, often with some sort of autotransformation gimmick. (Seichi) The number of these offerings is somewhat comparable to the larger, more complex figures aimed at older children. (Seichi) This feature of the DOTM line presages an important development in later movie toylines, namely the increasingly well defined breach between figures targeted at collectors and older children. Although ROTF arguably represents the peak of complexity in movie figures, DOTM figures are by no means simplistic. DOTM figures continue to have intricate, sometimes arcane transformation schemes, involved shells to create realistic car modes from the highly stylized robot models of the films, and small, dedicated pieces. 

Further complicating the issue of the toyline’s aesthetic, many of the film’s most iconic characters didn’t receive toys at general retail in the United States. “Due to a combination of factors, a number of named characters from the film did not receive "mainline" toy releases, an issue noted by many frustrated fans. Examples include Deluxe Que and Soundwave never seeing a North American release (apparently an issue with retail orders), Dino not receiving a transformable toy at all until 2014 (due to lack of licensing for his vehicle mode), and only one of the three Dreads receiving a Deluxe-or-larger sized toy (likely due to Hasbro not wanting to release three identical black SUVs, even if they do turn into different-looking robots.)” (Seichi, Dark) Leadfoot, one of the Wreckers, got a human alliance toy, but, like Wheeljack and Soundwave, the release of his deluxe figure in the US was totally canceled. (Seichi, Dark) Similarly, many of the characters who’s models were simply reused as generics didn’t receive toys in the line for obvious reasons. Features from the film like Stealth Force weaponry were also found in a limited way on some figures, and to a much more pronounced degree on others, particularly the Wreckers. (Seichi, Dark; Derik)  Since many of the members of the cast to receive toys had been originally featured in previous films, it is difficult to find realized in plastic examples of the many aesthetic features that originated in DOTM, such as Que’s hair. This is perhaps the most profound point of divergence in the aesthetics of the toyline and the film itself, and in many ways is a source of significant departure from previous film toylines, which didn’t feature such a gap. 

The toyline’s relationship to the aesthetics of the film is not one to one. Many of the most recognizable elements of the film, such as Dino or Stealth Force, are obscured or absent from the line altogether. Other features, like Mech Tech or the plethora of Human Alliance figures, aren’t featured in the film itself at all. Many toy only characters are obviously inspired by the visuals of the movies, but concede more to being figures by featuring less intricate metal detailing and more alt mode kibble. The toyline is still clearly situated in the tradition of movie toylines; complexity, Human Alliance, and automated gimmickry all provide strong ties to the past. Something of the future is also visible in DOTM. The eventual split between toys for younger children and more collector oriented figures in the movie lines is presaged by the contracted scope of the more traditional toyline and the continued presence of more Playskool figures. Similarly, DOTM also defines many of the aesthetic decisions that would strongly sculpt toylines in subsequent films, in particular the extremely human styling of Que. 

Overall, from an aesthetic perspective, DOTM is something of a mess. Because there are so many things going on in the film, from Stealth Force to Soundwave’s sports car alternate mode to Sentinel Prime taking cues from Optimus, it becomes difficult to pinpoint what exactly constitutes the aesthetic of DOTM. Certainly, there are several core elements, such as the oft mentioned Stealth Force, the increasingly human designs of new transformers, Wheeljack’s hair, and the reuse of models from previous films, to name a few. However, in many senses, the primary aesthetic feature of Dark of the Moon, both the toyline and the film, is that there are many little aesthetics, such as that of the Dreads or the Wreckers, and these are combined haphazardly with others to create the overall aesthetic of the franchise. 

         Works Cited

Apcog et al. “Josh Nizzi” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Josh_Nizzi Accessed 2/27/2021

Charles RB et al. “Sentinel Prime (ROTF)” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Sentinel_Prime_(ROTF) Accessed 3/6/2021

Dark T Zeratul et al. “Megatron (Movie)” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Megatron_(Movie) Accessed 3/6/2021

Derik et al. “Wrecker” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Wrecker Accessed 3/6/2021

Eagc7 et al. “Mech Tech” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/MechTech Accessed 2/27/2021

ItsWalky et al. “Stealth Force” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Stealth_Force Accessed 2/27/2021

ItsWalky et al. “Transformers (film)” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Transformers_(film) Accessed 3/7/2021

ItsWalky et al. “Transformers: Dark of the Moon (Film)” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Transformers:_Dark_of_the_Moon_(film) Accessed 2/28/2021

Khajidha et al. “Cyberverse (toyline)” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Cyberverse_(toyline) Accessed 2/27/2021

Khajidha et al. “Dreads” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Dreads Accessed 3/6/2021

M Sipher et al. “Dino” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Dino Accessed 2/27/2021

M Sipher et al. “Shockwave (Movie)” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Shockwave_(Movie) Accessed 3/6/2021

Servitor 2152 et al. “Soundwave (ROTF)” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Soundwave_(ROTF) Accessed 3/6/2021

Seichi et al. “Transformers: Dark of the Moon (Toyline)” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Transformers:_Dark_of_the_Moon_(toyline) Accessed 2/27/2021

Seichi et al. “Transformers: Age of Extinction (toyline)” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Transformers:_Age_of_Extinction_(toyline) Accessed 3/9/2021

SFH et al. “Laserbeak (DOTM)” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Laserbeak_(DOTM) Accessed 3/6/2021

SFH et al. “Que” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Que Accessed 3/7/2021

Sunjumper et al. “Human Alliance” TFwiki.https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Human_Alliance Accessed 5/8/2020

Tom Servo the Great et al. “Devcon (DOTM)” TFwiki. https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Devcon_(DOTM) Accessed 2/28/2021

[sabine-leo]

Paradise Found - Part 1

Author: @sabine-leo

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston / Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Romance, Humour (who knows what I´ll add along the way)

Rating: M 

Part: 1/?

Note: Here we are...I said I wanted to write something summer romancy with Tom and some of you jumped right into my cruise-boat ;) Thank you for inspiring the title @klbates22 and to everyone who commented and liked the idea! Feel free to jump into my asks or chat if you have an idea or need me to put in something specific in further Parts! I´ll try my best to make it work! 

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated and LOVED! Now kick back, relax and hopefully enjoy Part 1 of your summer romance with Tom! 

xox Sabine 

---------------------------------------

They say, happiness comes in waves.

You took that quite literally and decided to leave everything that had weighed you down behind for a few weeks. Work, an ex-boyfriend that had cheated on you with his ex, the hectic life in general.

No, you were not sticking your head in the sand…just your toes! You needed to clear your head, breath the sea-air, feel the warm wind on your skin, the sand under your feet and let your mind relax in a hammock under the palm trees.

So, here you were. Standing at the shoreline, looking at the vast, blue green ocean that touched your feet with every new wave that tried to reach dry sand. 

Closing your eyes with a smile, you took in the first rays of sunshine that the new dawn gifted you after your long journey. It had cost you quite a little fortune to get here, but it already had been worth it. The instance you dropped your bags, got rid of your shoes and ran down the few steps from your private cabin into the warm sand you felt a weight lift of your shoulders. An easing breath left your lungs. The next wave drenched your jeans. With a laugh you walked a few steps into the water and kicked the ensuing wave, splashing seawater onto yourself. Damn, that felt good.

Half soaked you walked out of the water a few minutes later and took in the view.

You had asked for a cabin on the far end of the little island. As private and small as this resort was, there wouldn´t have been any direct neighbours anyway, but you wanted the seclusion, the feeling of being alone. You could only make out one other path leading to a cabin before the natural shape of the island took a turn and secluded those two lodges. The very friendly driver, who had driven you and your luggage in a golf cart to your home for the next weeks, told you that there were only 3 other guests on the island. 2 of them pretty close to the central building that hosted a restaurant and a bar. You and one other person on the far end seeking seclusion and serenity. 

Walking back to your cabin, you took it in for real now. The wooden home looked like out of an island dream. Dark wood, light, flowy- white curtains that swayed in the sea breathe through the wide-open double door windows. A solid roof but covered with palm-leaves gave it the typical beach flair. Inside, in an open space was a little kitchen, a lounge area and a table with 4 chairs. Secluded but with a phenomenal view of the beach was the bedroom with a double bed facing the ocean. Behind another door was a bathroom with a tub also facing the ocean. It really was heaven on earth.

 After unpacking and changing out of your wet clothes you went outside again. In front of your cabin was a colourful hammock waiting for you. The palm trees offered a shadowy place to get a little nap in after traveling for a whole day and some hours to get to paradise. It did not take long for you to drift of. The soft sway, the warmth and the sea air adding to your tiredness, knocked you out quickly.

The first day was over pretty quickly. After sleeping peacefully in that hammock, getting some food into your hungry stomach and ordering the things you would need to cook for yourself the next days you saw that the sun was slowly setting again. Taking a stroll along the beach seemed like a good idea since you were well and rested now.

 You did not bother to put on shoes, you just went directly to the shoreline in your short pants, the Bikini-top and the light blouse open on top to spare you the agony of a sunburn on the first day. The wet sand and the warm water felt so good on your feet that you walked for a good while before you sat down in the dry sand to watch the sunset. It really was a beautiful sight. The sky began to change from purest blue to the most extraordinary yellow, orange and red segue you had ever seen. Totally mesmerised you watched the sun kiss the ocean as someone walked into your view on the shoreline. He lifted a hand in greeting and stepped out of direct view again.

 “Sorry, didn´t want to interrupt your sight!” He said with a deep and smooth voice and added before you could answer “Have a nice evening!” and continued on his way.

A bit louder you said to his tall, walking form.

“No worries, this won´t be my last sunset in paradise. You too!”  He half turned with his next steps and you saw him nod and wave again. You lifted your hand too and smiled a little before turning your head back to the spectacle before you. When the last bit of the sun went into her ocean-bed you stood up and started to walk again, collecting driftwood on the way. On your way back to your cabin you had to walk past the one before yours. Since you were walking along the shoreline you would not disrupt the privacy of its occupant.

 “Beautiful view…” That deep voice again. Your head snapped up. Leaning on a palm tree you could make out the shadow of the tall man. “Oh, sorry! Who´s interrupting the view now…” You chuckled and pointed to the shadow of the hammock before your cabin “…Just wanted to get back....”

The soft breeze carried an easy-going, deep chuckle to your ears.

“Now that would ruin my beautiful view…”

It took you a moment before you got the gist of the words and laughed quietly. A smile lit up your face, but he would not be able to see it, would he?

“Well…” you started walking again “…then I am sorry to ruin it…” You put your windswept hair back behind your ear. “…maybe you do have more luck come tomorrow!”

Now a deep laugh resonated from his tall form. “I shall look for a shooting star and wish on it!”

 That voice sounded very British and very ear pleasing. You grinned as you kept walking back to your cabin. “Good night!” He said louder and pushed himself off the tree with a foot.

“Good night!” You answered half turning but continuing your way. The shadow of the man told you he was tall and lean, his hand ruffled through his hair as he watched you for a second before you turned around.

 The next day started late due to jet-lag but nobody was complaining that you were sleeping in, the bed next to you empty. For a second you thought about how nice it would be to enjoy the view from this bed with someone by your side. But then again, you never had a problem with being alone and you were certainly not missing your ex. That chapter of your life got closed some months ago. You stretched your limbs and got up. After donning a sporty bikini, you stepped out started to grin and walked onto the beach. The moment your feet hit the toasty warm sand you took off in a run with a laugh.

 Some hundred meters away a head snapped up in another hammock and a laugh escaped in a deep male tone as he saw you running into the water, jumping over waves and somewhat elegantly but definitely joyfully taking a header into the ocean. Yes, he thought, unquestionably a beautiful view. His breath caught as he saw you come out of the water some minutes later, disappearing into your own hammock. Now he needed some cooling-down…

 There was nothing better than salty water on your skin, drying off while swaying in a warm summer breeze. In a hammock. Under a palm tree. Watching the ocean. That was until you saw your “neighbour” walking towards the water. A low sitting navy blue shorts the only cover his undoubtedly hot body wore. Even from afar you could see the defined muscles on his back. Changing your position a little to unashamedly watch him getting nearer and nearer to the water you laughed as he too jolted into a run and elegantly took a header. You pushed your sunglasses up on your nose and let one foot dangle out of the hammock to give it another push as he emerged from the water again and walked to shore. His hand pushing back his wet hair.

 “Oh, blimey this is just cruel!” You gasped out as you saw his wet torso in full display and instantly felt a pang of guilt for ogling him like that. “Talk about a beautiful view...” You murmured and laughingly shook your head, closed your eyes and dropped the straw-hat onto your face with a groan.

 The soft sway of the hammock calmed you down again… as did the sound of the ocean.

You smiled softly and took a deep, deep breath.

“Hammock for two…how convenient…” You heard a deep voice say as your hat got lifted off your face and some drops of water hit your warm skin. Before you could say something, before you could even grasp what was happening a wet body balanced itself into the hammock. Blue eyes looked deep into yours and the weight of his lean body made you tilt sideways, flush against him. A smirk toyed with his lips as his tongue came out to wet them. “Hi, thought I´d come over to properly introduce myself…”

“Oh…” was all you got out before he grabbed your waist, tugged you on top of him and introduced his lips to yours in a hot, sizzling hot kiss. His big hands stroked simultaneously up and down your back. He grabbed the back of your head and your butt and squeezed while his tongue darted out to seek shelter with yours. “Hi!” He grinned near your lips afterwards and put a strand of hair behind your ear before he began a new kiss that let your skin tingle as if electricity pulsed through your veins.

A honk from an arriving golf cart yanked you up straight. Whirling your arms around like a damn bird wanting to take flight you almost toppled out of the hammock.

“Your delivery Miss!”

Looking around a little dazed you just nodded and tried to get a grip on your surroundings again. You were still laying in the hammock in front of your cabin…but alone.

Dang! You must have been fallen asleep right after that handsome man walked out of the water, initiating a wet dream instantly.

Rolling your eyes at yourself you got out of the hammock as the delivery man came out of your cabin again and said his goodbyes. Going inside yourself to put everything away you grunted with a breathless laugh. “Honk if you´re horny!”

 Tags: TAGLIST OPEN 

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[ketchupsupreme]

Conversations with Dead Planets

                                                  Cassie

My name is Cassie.

The last name doesn't matter. Hadn't mattered for nearly three years. For three years, my friends and I had fought a secret war against the Yeerks, a parasitic alien race that took control of your body by entering through your ear and wrapping itself around your brain. They could be in anyone: your parents, your mailman, your teacher anyone. We called them Controllers. The only way we had been able to fight them was through Andalite technology that gave us the ability to morph into any animal we touched. I had been a dolphin, a horse, a orca. It was amazing. The battles… not so much. My friends and later the younger brother of the Andalite who gave us the power became the Animorphs.

The technology that gave us this power had been lost until a kid named David found the blue box. We gave David the ability to morph and he was one of us until he betrayed us and we had to take care of him. The morphing power was our only advantage against the Yeerks. That and the fact that until very recently they didn't know who we were. They had thought we were rogue Andalite bandits. When they found out that we were human, we had to get our families out. We were successful...except for Jake our leader. We had been too late to get his family out and his brother Tom, who had been a Controller since the very beginning, infested his own parents. None of the Yeerks had the ability to morph except for one: Visser One, the only Yeerk who had ever taken an Andalite host and with it the power to morph. Until now. Because of me.

In our most recent battle, in an effort to stop Jake (my sorta boyfriend) from killing his brother Tom I had allowed Tom to get away with the blue box. I don't know why, I just knew that I couldn't let Jake kill his own brother. After all that we had been through, the countless battles, the countless deaths, this last one seemed to monstrous for even us. I couldn't let Jake do it. So in order to stop him I had bit him while I was in my wolf morph, resulting in Jake hitting me across the face… as a tiger. With tiger sized paws. 

I knew why he had done it. Surprise. Anger. Now he could barely look at me. In his eyes I was a traitor. I wasn't so sure, but I knew that I didn't  want to be around him or any of the other Animorphs. When we got back to the free Hork-Bajir valley, I split off from the group, avoiding my best friend Rachel’s eyes as I headed for the tree line.

“Cassie!” I heard her yell as I ran further into the forest. As I ran, a certain picture floated to the top of my mind. I could feel my nails start getting thicker and longer as fur sprouted all around my body. Ax, our only actual Andalite member and the younger brother of the Andalite who had given us the morphing power, had told us that I was what the Andalites called an estreen, someone who could control how they morphed. When my friends morphed, it was not a pretty sight. Legs exploded out of them, eyeballs formed, beaks appeared on human faces. As the wolf whose DNA was apart of me rose out of my human body, near the end of it, I looked almost like one of those old Hollywood werewolves until the morph finished and I became a complete wolf. 

I ran, pushing my legs to the extreme as I ran away, jumping over fallen trees, making hairpin turns as I let the wolf take me over. I reached the top of a hill, coming to a dead stop as I let the moon wash over me, feeling the cool wind blow through my fur. 

Why had I done it? Why had I given Tom the morphing cube? With it, our only advantage was gone. If this fight had happened a few weeks earlier, we would have lost the cube before we ever created the Auxiliary Animorphs. 

The Auxiliary Animorphs. Another one of my ideas. When our backs had been up against the wall, when we needed more warriors, more Animorphs, we had the dilemma of not knowing who was or wasn't a Controller. We couldn't recruit our parents. They had to be kids. Kids thay the Yeerks would never touch. Kids that the Yeerks believed to be powerless. That's when I had the idea: we would recruit disabled kids. 

What was wrong with me? The Cassie that had entered this war would have never done this. When my father found out about this plan, he looked at me like I was a stranger, someone he didn't even recognize. To be completely honest? I wasn't so sure I recognized myself. I had done so many things in this war, killed so many people, all in the name of defending my planet. No one forced me to. No one held a gun against my head and told me I had to be an Animorph. That had been my choice. I had quit once, when I wasn't sure if I had killed a Hork-Bajir before or after Jake signaled the retreat. I could have ended it then. Been a normal girl again.

But then came Karen and Aftran. Aftran had been a Yeerk in the head of a little girl named Karen. She had found out our secret, and began stalking me. After a few days in the woods together, in exchange for Karen’s freedom, I agreed to morph a caterpillar permanently so long as Aftran never took another host again. See that's the drawback about morphing. If you stayed in the morph for more than two hours, you were stuck permanently. A nothlit. It had happened to Tobias, one of the members of our group, and it had happened to me. 

Why wasn't I still in the body of a caterpillar though? Well according to Ax, since the caterpillar naturally morphed into a butterfly, it reset the morphing clock, allowing me to escape the blind fate of the caterpillar. I eventually saved Aftran from the Yeerks themselves, giving her the power to morph as long as she chose one morph and stayed in it forever. She was still out there, swimming in the ocean as a humpback  whale.

She had finished her fight. I was still in it. As the Drode had once called me, I was Cassie, the Killer with a Conscious. What would I give if this stupid war had never happened, if my biggest problem in the world was still feeding the ducks their pills or wondering if Jake liked me back? I would give anything.

“Anything, you say?” a voice behind me drawled.

I turned around quickly, losing balance as my now human legs tangled around each other. When had I morphed back to human? 

“Who’s there?” I called into the forest, trying to peer into the darkness with my weak, human eyes.

“It is I Cassie. Do you not recognize me Cassie the hypocrite? Never a killer… except for when she is.”

Immediately goosebumps popped up all over my skin. Only one being had ever called me that.

“The Drode,” I said calmly, my terror hidden beneath my calm exterior.

“Yes, it is I,” it said, bowing before me with a flourish. “My master, the great and powerful Crayak heard your wishes and sent me down here to grant it. Unlike that meddling twit, the Elimist, the great and powerful Crayak can grant you what you most truly desire.”

   He began circling me, whispering to me all of my most secret desires.

“No more lies Cassie.”

“No more death Cassie.”

“No more wondering whether what you just did was right and wrong.”

“No more wondering whether Rachel will die in a future battle.”

“No more of Jake feeling like you betrayed him.”

My breathing was coming out rapid and shallow. Yes I wanted all of this. How many times had I woken up, a cold sweat covering my skin from the nightmares. From seeing Rachel, fierce, loyal, brave Rachel, devoured by Taxxons, not even in her human form. How many times had I lied to my parents and they never questioned it because to them I’m their sweet innocent Cassie. Or rather, I had been. Until very recently, I had lied to them almost every day for the past three years. 

My father thought I was a monster. I didn’t know if any of the other Animorphs had told him it was my idea to recruit James and the other disabled children. When we had left for that mission though, he had stared at me as if I was a stranger, no longer the sweet innocent Cassie. That Cassie had died the first time we went to the Yeerk pool. When I had taken my first life. I had been just thirteen. 

What if the Drode could do as Crayak promised? Change everything so this war never happened? So that Jake, a man trapped in the body of a sixteen year old boy, could grow up without the weight of the world hanging around his neck. Rachel would never have to feel as if we were using her to clean up our messes. David would have never happened. Marco would have grown up with his mother. Ax would still have his brother. Tobias--

Tobias. If the Yeerks never came to Earth, that would mean that Elfangor, Ax’s older brother and the one who gave us our powers and told us about the Yeerks, would have never come to Earth and he would have never met Loren, Tobias’ mother. Tobias would have never been born. I opened my mouth to protest. The Drode cut me off before one word even passed my lips. 

“Do not worry, Saint Cassie. Your feathered friend will still be born. The all powerful Crayak will see to it that the deceased prince becomes a nothlit. Tobias will have a loving father and mother and never want for anything. He will never know hardship, never be afraid, never wonder why his mother left him. He will be happy.”

I almost cried. When he had been human, Tobias was trapped in between two homes that had made it clear he would not be missed if he disappeared. As a matter of fact, when he had become a nothlit, Neither his aunt or uncle cared very much. I don’t think they even put in a missing persons report.  Didn’t Tobias deserve this? 

“Why did Crayak send you to me,” I asked, my voice thick with emotion. “Why didn’t he go to Jake? I know he hates Jake, but Jake should be making this decision. Not me.”

The Drode smiled, his odd bird shaped head almost trembling with glee.

“Therein lies the catch, Horsewoman of the Apocalypse,” the Drode said, turning Marco’s one-off name for me into something cruel. “In order for Crayak to do this, Jake the Yeerk Killer must be sacrificed.”

The blood drained from my face. Jake wouldn’t be there. He would be dead. No. I would never let that happen. Jake was my-- I mean Jake was the one thing that made sense in this world. I lo--.

“And you must be the one to kill him.”

I turned on the Drode, my fist hurtling towards his face. Except that there was no fist. It was a paw, half morphed and quickly completing the transformation into full wolf.

“Before you say no Cassie the Hypocrite, let me show you something.”

The sky above me bloomed into images. I saw myself, my thirteen year old self, laughing, clinging onto Rachel’s arm as she dragged me across the mall, her eyes searching for the words “sale.”. Marco, funny Marco, pointing at me as his mother dragged him into their car, the words “tree-hugger” forming as his mom slammed the car door. 

“He’ll be by tomorrow Cassie,” Eva laughed, her eyes kind and empty of the harsh truths that the former Visser One had left her with. “Thank you again for tutoring him!”

Another image, this one of Tobias and I, bloomed. We were camping, his father telling my father and us about planets far away. Planets that held giant bladed gentle creatures who peeled and ate bark. Of carnivorous worms that ate everything in sight. Finally, with a gentleness in his eyes, he told us of four legged beings who had four eyes and a blade at the end of their tail. “Gentle creatures,” he seemed to say. “Kind of uppity, but in a lovable way.” I was the only one who noticed the tear slip out of his eye. 

“All of this could be real Cassie,” the Drode whispered in my ear. “You know what you have to do.” He waved his hand towards a dark spot in the clearing. 

Jake appeared. He seemed confused at first, scanning the area. Then he saw me. His eyes narrowed, his mouth twisting in an ugly snarl. 

“Cassie.”

<Get out of here Jake,> I said, my thought-speak filled with worry.

“Don’t worry. I don’t want to be anywhere near you,” he said, his voice filled with derision. 

<Jake. Please. Get out of here.> I could not stop the fear from entering my voice. 

He must have heard it because instantly his eyes softened, the boy general forgetting his current anger. For right now, he was my Jake again.

“Cassie? What’s wrong?” he said, his voice filled with concern.

“Casssssiiieeee… all of that can be yours. Just tear his throat out out. Don’t let him morph.” The Drode’s voice tangled all around me.

“Cassie,” Jake said again, this time dropping to the ground to be eye level with me. I could see the black stripes rippling across his features, his face bulging and eye color changing as he began morphing into the tiger I had seen him become so many times.His hand dropped as it became a paw. I felt that paw striking me across the face. His anger. 

“One life for everyone else. A free galaxy. No more slaves. No more Yeerks. Just kill Jake Berenson and all of this can be yours.”

Suddenly Jake was human again, frozen aside from his eyes, which looked around, the panic settling in his eyes. 

“KILL. HIM.”

Never. No matter what had happened between me and Jake, I could never kill him. I loved him. Nothing in this world was worth Jake’s life. Even if what the Drode promised was true, it came at too horrible a price. The price would be Jake’s life… and my humanity. 

In an instant I turned on the Drode, my jaws aching for his throat. He disappeared, his laughter filling my ears as Jake also disappeared. 

“Oh Cassie, too good for even her planet. One day soon you will wish for the great Crayak to offer you this again. When a friend falls in battle… you will wish for him. And he shall not appear. He will let you enjoy the spoils of your kindness.”

With a final laugh, his presence vanished. I demorphed, the cool winds rustling the trees. Nothing had changed. But Jake was still alive. And soon, this war would be over one way or another. As I stared at the sky above me, a Bug fighter flew across the crescent moon.

[thistleclaws-hatred]

Ashfur’s Revenge - Novella - Chapter Two

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This novella is inspired by @dark-rose-designs ’s post.

A moon had passed since Brambleclaw’s deputy ceremony. Ashfur had become leaf-bare thin and his pelt barely clung to his frame. It got so bad that even Firestar ordered him to go see Leafpool. “I’m fine Leafpool, just adjusting to everything.”

Leafpool rolled her eyes, “Don’t lie to your medicine cat Ashfur, I know more than you think,” she paused, “I’m sorry that Squirrelflight chose Brambleclaw.”

Ashfur curled his lip, “This has nothing to do with them! I hope he makes her happy,” he growled, stalking out of the medicine cat’s den.

“What did Leafpool say?” Firestar asked, making his way over to the thin gray warrior.

Ashfur shrugged, “That I should be eating more and keeping myself in better shape.”

Frestar narrowed his eyes but said nothing else about the matter, “Clean yourself up, I want you to come to the gathering tonight.”

Ashfur dipped his head and went back into the warriors’ den. His nest was at the far corner of the den, far away from the scents of Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw, who shared a nest. He was happy to see that the den was empty and began to groom himself. His fur was disgusting to say the least, moss and dirt turning his gray pelt slightly brown.

Squirrelflight entered the den, waving her tail in greeting to Ashfur before curling up in her nest. Ashfur paused in his grooming, looking over her soft form. Her fur was sleek and shiny, more deeply ginger than the brightest fire. She looked fit, she had been eating well. I’m sure Brambleclaw gives her the best fresh-kill everyday. His thoughts turned grim and eyes narrowed to slits. Brambleclaw doesn’t deserve you.

          Ashfur walked behind his clan on the way to the gathering. Every step hurt and he was painfully aware of how little he had been eating. Birchpaw was bounding happily alongside Whitepaw, the two engrossed in some chat. Ashfur wasn’t blind to the look Whitepaw was giving Birchpaw. Everyone gets to be happy except me. 

Ashfur made a point to sit as far away from ThunderClan as possible during the gathering. He half-heartedly listened to a story that Webfoot was telling. “How’s the prey running in ThunderClan?”

Ashfur snapped out of his trace, looking at the circle of warriors he was sitting with, “Pretty good. Birchpaw is almost ready for his warrior ceremony.”

“You must be proud,” Voletooth commented, eyes full of genuine happiness.

Ashfur dipped his head, “He’s more than ready.”

As Voletooth began another story about a RiverClan apprentice, Ashfur let his gaze be dragged over to Squirrelflight. She was sitting next to Tallpoppy, a ShadowClan queen, the two engaged in some conversation. Brambleclaw was next to the other deputies, his head held high. Arrogant furball. 

The leaders all said nothing interesting, not that Ashfur was really listening. The warm weather was letting the clans share tongues for longer than usual, but Ashfur found himself sitting alone. His gaze was locked on a tree, a ringing in his ears blocking out all other sounds.

He grunted when someone crashed into his shoulder. He spun around, tense and claws unsheathed. “My mistake,” the other cat meowed, shaking out his thick pelt.

Ashfur recognized him as Hawkfrost, a warrior of RiverClan. Hawkfrost looked over Ashfur with piercing blue eyes, “You alright?”

Ashfur felt his heart leap into his throat, “Uhh, yeah, yeah, no I’m good.”

“You’re from ThunderClan, yeah?” Hawkfrost asked.

“Yes, I’m Ashfur.”

“Pleasure to meet you Ashfur,” Hawkfrost’s voice was smoother than the river at moonhigh.

“Hawkfrost, right?” Ashfur tried his best to keep his voice calm. Why is everyone related to Tigerstar so...beautiful?

“Indeed. Have you seen Brambleclaw? I need to speak with him.”

Ashfur turned around, trying to pinpoint Brambleclaw’s sleek tabby fur. He spotted him, standing next to Blackstar and Firestar. “He’s by the bridge, right next to Blackstar.”

“Thank you Ashfur,” Hawkfrost dipped his head and walked off towards his brother, his tail gilding along Ashfur’s flank.

Ashfur watched him leave, mentally noting the power in his shoulders as he moved smooth as a fish through the crowd of cats.

     As Ashfur slept, all he could see were icy blue eyes slicing him in half, and a brown and white pelt suffocating him. He shot awake, panting heavily. Thank StarClan I didn’t wake anyone. He shook out his coat and stood up, slinking over the other warriors and making his way into the clearing. 

Ashfur snuck his way out into the forest, feeling the dewy earth underneath his paws and the chill running through the air. The birds were chirping above him as the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon.

Ashfur walked slowly through the woods, enjoying the stillness that surrounded him. He paused to relish in the solitude he so rarely found himself in. No patrols, no training, no hunting, no Brambleclaw, no Squirrelflight. 

He walked along the lakebed, his paws just barely touching the chilled water. Leaf-fall was coming. Ashfur sat down, wrapping his tail over his paws and watching the sun rise off the cliffs. “Bit early to be out alone, isn't it?”

Ashfur sprung to his paws, turning and hissing at his companion. Hawkfrost looked at him calmly, flicking his ear and smirking. “I’m within two tail-lengths of the lake, I’m allowed to be here.”

Ashfur forced his fur to lay flat and nodded, “I suppose so. Do you need Brambleclaw?”

“It’s not always about him,” Hawkfrost meowed, sitting next to Ashfur. Another breeze moved through the area, pushing back their fur.

“If only everyone thought that,” Ashfur grumbled, sitting back down.

“The prey running okay in ThunderClan? I couldn’t help but notice you’re looking rather...thin,” Hawkfrost commented, his voice deep.

Ashfur fluffed up his pelt, “Yeah, everything in ThunderClan is fine. I just don’t feel like eating too much.”

Hawkfrost hummed pensively, “Brambleclaw getting on your nerves?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“The question really is, is it Brambleclaw or that lovely ginger mate of his. Squirrelflight, is it?”

Ashfur folded his ears back aggressively, “She’s a foxheart. She chose him!”

Hawkfrost nodded slowly, “You loved her.”

“I love her. I’m the better option. Brambleclaw doesn’t deserve her!” Ashfur spat. He then flinched back, remembering Hawkfrost was his kin, “Sorry. I know you’re his brother.”

Hawkfrost shrugged, turning his gaze away from the shining lake, “I know very little of my kin. But I can see how much this she-cat means to you.”

“Don’t you have a mate?” Ashfur asked, trying not to let his hope seep into his voice.

“Nope,” Hawkfrost laughed, “No she-cats really catch my eye...If you get my drift.”

Ashfur nodded, forcing his tail to lie still. “I just wish that Squirrelflight could see me for what I am. Instead, she hurt me. She hurt me so much.”

“So hurt her back.”

“Hurt her...back?” Ashfur tilted his head.

Hawkfrost shrugged again, “Take something from her. She took your heart and cut it open. Do the same to her.” Hawkfrost then noticed the sun was almost over the mountains. “I must return to my clan. I’ll see you around Ashfur.”

“Yeah, um, see you around Hawkfrost,” Ashfur meowed, watching the large tom leave. His heart was thudding in his chest. Calm down! 

Ashfur made his way back into camp, a measly mouse hanging from his jaws. No one would question him if he was out hunting. He groaned internally upon seeing Squirrelflight lying next to Brambleclaw by the fresh-kill pile. The two were sharing a vole, silent as a mouse, but contentment flowing off of them in waves.

Ashfur spun around and brought his mouse to the elders’ den, leaving it just outside for them whenever they woke up. Might as well take Birchpaw out. He bounded over the apprentices’ den, poking his head in and meowing for Birchpaw to wake up. “We’ll do some battle training today.”

Birchpaw’s eyes lit up and he followed his mentor out of the den. “Ashfur, are you taking Birchpaw out?” Brambleclaw called from behind him.

Ashfur twitched the tip of his tail and looked over his shoulder, “That is what mentors do for the apprentice’s.” He meowed sarcastically, nudging Birchpaw towards the gorse tunnel.

“When you’re done training go hunting!”

Ashfur gritted his teeth but flicked his tail in acknowledgement. He brought Birchpaw to the training hollow and stood opposite of him, “Let’s do some offensive moves today.”

Birchpaw stretched out his limbs and nodded. “Attack me.” Ashfur ordered.

Birchpaw paused for a moment and then dove forward, successfully knocking out Ashfur’s front paws. Ashfur anticipated his move and the moment he fell forward he twisted his neck and caught Birchpaw’s paw in his teeth, gently but firmly, and then pulled him forward. Birchpaw used his hind-paws to kick forward, butting himself headfirst into Ashfur’s skull. Ashfur let go of Birchpaw and rubbed his jaw, “Good job.”

Birchpaw beamed with the praise, bouncing on his toes. Ashfur striked out, quick as a snake, and hit his apprentice in the shoulder with a well-aimed blow, “Never assume your enemy is defeated.”

Birchpaw let out a faint hiss and spun around, rearing up and slashing forward. Had his claws been unsheathed, Ashfur’s ears would’ve been torn to shreds. Ashfur dove underneath Birchpaw, aiming for his tail, but was pleased to see Birchpaw had wrapped his tail around his leg to hide it. Birchpaw landed and kicked out, getting Ashfur right in the chest. 

Ashfur landed with a thud and looked proudly at his apprentice and stood up, charging at him and pinning Birchpaw to the sandy floor, placing his paws on his shoulder. Birchpaw flailed beneath him and then twisted his neck awkwardly to grip Ashfur’s foreleg in his teeth. Ashfur felt himself fall forward, his muzzle bumping into the ground. “Excellent work.”

[lassieposting]

Do you have a HC on angel/demon bodies in the Lucifer universe? Like, it seems that the goddess never her own physical body based on what Maze said about when she was in hell. And we know that demons possess humans, but do you think they have their own bodies as well? If they have their own do they leave them behind when possessing? Do you think Maze’s form is her own or did Lucifer allow her to possess a recently deceased human so that she could accompany him to Earth? What about angels?

oh my god i have so many thoughts on this i dont even know how to structure this post, literally this is me rn

post under the cut because yet again this bitch be ramblin

ok so, starting with the celestials

GOD

I’m not gonna elaborate too much on God, because I’m in the middle of writing a fic which elaborates on how I see his body/physical shape working and it would spoil a twist. But a few non-spoilery thoughts: 

- God and Goddess are completely different species, from different universes

- God is - as far as he knows - the last of his kind. The universe he was born in was destroyed by a massive war; his species are naturally peaceful and he had no part in it. 

- His species are immensely powerful; he can cross between universes with ease as an adult, and the ability to create universes is a species talent, not an individual one. They can all do it. They live for billions upon billions of years in deep space, so that’s how they pass the time. 

- He’s naturally telepathic. Goddess is not at all, and the angels inherit this from him but only to a very minor degree - they can sense when another angel is in the area, but can’t actually perceive one another’s thoughts. 

- He doesn’t originally look like us. Not in the slightest. But changing his shape is very easy for him, and he is capable of “modifying” his own internal biology, so he can and does choose to take a human shape - having hands with which to manipulate objects is useful when you’re no longer living in deep space, and being able to communicate verbally is useful when you’re the only major telepath in your (very large) family. 

 GODDESS

- Goddess does have a solid, physical form, and she actually has our basic shape too. “Two arms, two legs, a head and a body to hang them on” is a popular evolutionary route in her native universe. 

- Humans and demons, however, don’t have the right eye equipment to see her properly. Humans see in three dimensions, demons in one or two more, but neither species has enough perceivable dimensions or colours to actually make sense of Goddess’ true form. We see her as a blur of light, because that’s all of her that’s visible to us. We’re actually only able to see like, 30% of her and it makes our brains freak out some. 

- Lucifer knows this, but neglected to mention it to Maze when she was torturing Goddess in Hell. He did nothing to defend her when God kicked her out, because he’s smarting over her abandoning him, but at the end of the day she’s his mom and he loves her. He’s the only one in Hell who can see her properly and interact with her physical form, and there’s no way he’s going to actively participate in his mother’s torture. 

THE ANGELS

Now, I believe “canon” says that the angels were created as adults, but fuck that, because baby angels. 

- The angels were created with wings, but they don’t get their first feathers until they’re toddling, so they’re like weird little naked birds for a bit. 

- They moult every few hundred years while they’re still growing, and they don’t get sharp primaries until they have their adult feathers. Once they’re fully grown, they won’t moult again, but they’ll grow new feathers if the ones they have fall out or are damaged. 

- No one actually knows how long their lifespans are. No angel has ever died of natural causes. But they’re long. The angels Chloe knows are archangels, the oldest, and even though they’re physically full-grown adults they’re barely out of celestial puberty. Tom Ellis plays Lucifer as having the emotional maturity and worldview of a teenager. Amenadiel is the overtired early-20-something having to live away from home for the first time. 

- Their abilities are genetic - they were born with them and have a chance of passing them on to any nephilim they create - and they start manifesting around the toddler stage. 

- The toddler stage is fun, actually. Way worse than the terrible twos for humans. Their first set of feathers come in which is itchy, they’re teething, they can talk enough to be defiant, they’re climbing up/falling off everything, their powers start developing, they’re clingy, and the tantrums are spectacular. 

meanwhile, in hell

in my headcanon, hell is home to three classes of demons:

ELDRITCH DEMIGODS

- the oldest, most dangerous and rarest creatures in Hell. They did not create the dimension Hell is located in, but they did shape the landscape and were the original rulers of the dimension.

- the original users of what demons call magic. lucifer learned some of this during his time in hell - illusions, levitating his pentecostal coin, his desire ability, the fine art of binding someone with a deal and get yourself out of any situation with a loophole. 

- the eldritches feature prominently in my fic but have absolutely nothing (as far as I know) to do with canon - the only reason I’m including them here is because my personal headcanon is that Lucifer’s angelic gift is his light. His “hypno eye thing” is something he learned while he was in Hell. he wasn’t lying with what he said to chloe - it’s a gift from a god, but not a gift from his father, god. 

HELLBORN DEMONS

- these demons have no human DNA at all. 

- they’re older than the lilim, and more physically powerful, but they’re less adept at magic (glamours, for example) and mind games. 

- hellborn demons look nothing like humans. they might not be bipedal at all; leviathan is a giant sea serpent. spines, extra jaws, multiple sets of teeth, a ridiculous number of limbs, too many or too few joints, no eyes at all, exoskeletons etc are all perfectly normal demon traits.  

- those that have eyes are red, yellow or black. my hc of hell is inspired by the very deep ocean though, so it’s just as common to have no eyes and a superior sense of smell, or electroreception, or sonar, instead. 

- they can learn to glamour, but they still wouldn’t look right. there would be something subtly off about them, something in the mind of any human looking at them screaming at them to run. they’re the basis of those horror stories where someone looks just a little wrong; they don’t blink enough, or seem to have too many teeth, or they walk wrong. 

- they’re more durable than lilim demons. short of a celestial, an eldritch or a bomb, nothing stops these fuckers. they can come back from insane injuries that would absolutely kill most life forms. if you leave one critically injured but don’t finish it off and make sure, chances are it won’t die. it’ll crawl off and recuperate and come back for you later. 

THE LILIM

- the lilim are the descendents of lilith and, as such, they have human DNA. the closer their link to lilith, the more human they appear - maze, for example, is almost entirely human in appearance except for one half of her face. the more distant the link to lilith, the less human DNA they have, and the less human they appear. 

- really common lilim traits: claws, fangs, scales, horns

- almost all lilim have the human body shape and facial features arrangement, so they’re bipedal with two eyes, a nose and a single mouth. yellow, red and black are all pretty standard demon eye colours, but lilith’s eyes are white and her children tend to inherit them. the more diluted her blood gets, the less likely a child will have her white eyes.

- with practice, the lilim can glamour their demon features and pass undetected among humans, unless they choose to reveal their real face.  their physical strength, speed and heightened senses remain the same even under a glamour. 

- because of their human ancestry, lilim demons don’t need to possess a dead human body. but it’s a lot more convenient. to leave Hell in your own body, you need to a) leave through the front gate and b) have a way of generating enough energy to shunt you across the divide between dimensions. for maze, this was lucifer; he carried her out of Hell. but she can’t return (or get out) without him. God, Goddess or any of the eldritch abominations would also have that level of power. 

- plus, like. with a dead human body, you can take as much damage as you like or commit as many atrocities as you fancy and just change your body when you’re done. you don’t need to be careful of injury or worry about sustenance. and you don’t have to compete with anyone else in the same head, which is a vast improvement over possessing someone living.

[twilights-800-cats]

<< Allegiances || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 || From the Beginning >>

Chapter 13

Mistyfoot woke from troubled sleep, her dreams clouded with Tinystar’s ice-blue eyes chasing her from the ThunderClan camp for something she didn’t know about. Dawn light was seeping in through the cracks in the warrior’s den walls, and Mistyfoot sighed.

She would be leaving tonight.

Mistyfoot did not even try to speak with Nightpaw throughout the day. It would only cause trouble for them both, and soon enough he would guess what Mistyfoot had been trying to tell him behind the nursery the day before. Her heart ached as she saw Nightpaw heading out of camp – he looked sullen and miserable and alone, his tail dragging in the dust.

The day seemed to drag on. Mistyfoot had been assigned no task and she paced the camp, waiting for Tinystar to tell her to go sit in a tree for hours, or whatever he found fitting. She didn’t bother taking any prey, feeling that it might be a trap – she had done nothing to deserve it yet.

Evening was coming. Each moment brought Mistyfoot closer to nightfall, when she would have to sneak out of camp and leave ThunderClan for… possibly forever. The thought chilled her bones. Though the past few days had been tenuous, this place, these cats… they were Mistyfoot’s home and family. The thought of leaving them pulled at her like enemy claws.

Finally Mousefur approached her. “Want to go hunting?” she asked.

Mistyfoot wondered if Tinystar had put her up to this �� but Mistyfoot had not seen Tinystar all day. She nodded in reply.

Even if Tinystar had set this up… it would be nice to hunt with a friend, before she had to go.

———————————————————-

Evening light cast the forest in an orange glow. Mousefur led the way to a thicket of oak and ferns, where Mistyfoot know prey was teeming, especially after the rain. They and Spiderpaw crouched behind a long-fallen oak, watching intently for small shapes in the undergrowth.

Yet Mistyfoot found herself unable to focus. Her gaze kept straying to Mousefur, and words kept bubbling in her throat – an attempt to say good-bye hung in her mind. Mistyfoot knew she couldn’t say it without bringing up a load of questions. Friends or not, she knew Mousefur wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t let her leave.

Mistyfoot wasn’t the only distracted cat. Spiderpaw had a hard time staying still, even after so long in training. Mousefur kept forcing her to stop fidgeting, stop moving, stop chattering. She was far too busy for Mistyfoot to confide in, even a little.

Finally Spiderpaw’s fidgeting came to a head – a squirrel darted out into the open and like an excited kitten, Spiderpaw leaped the oak log and shot off after it.

Mousefur growled in annoyance. “Stay here,” she said, clambering over the log. “We’ll be back.”

Mistyfoot watched Mousefur go, chasing after her apprentice into the forest. She was suddenly alone now, with only the sound of a branch falling or a bird chirping to keep her company. The silence was… comforting.

For a time.

Without Spiderpaw’s chatter or Mousefur’s grumblings, Mistyfoot’s own worries began to creep into focus. She leaned against the log and sighed as they washed over her in a wave. What if it was for nothing? What if the lake wasn’t real? What if she was caught trying to leave, or worse? What if she died, far away from ThunderClan?

Briefly, she wondered if any cat would really miss her.

A rustling caught Mistyfoot’s attention, and she poked her head up from behind the log. As if StarClan had brought him here, Nightpaw was chasing a vole through the ferns. The small apprentice made a leap, but ultimately he missed – the vole scurried away, leaving Nightpaw to push himself to his paws and sigh.

“Wonderful,” he murmured. “Just one more thing I’ve done wrong.”

“Nightpaw!” Mistyfoot mewed, standing.

Nightpaw jumped nearly out of his fur. “Mistyfoot!” he hissed. “Don’t do that!”

“Sorry,” Mistyfoot offered. She leaped over the log in an easy bound. “What’re you doing here?”

Nightpaw twitched his tail, his eyes downcast. “I was trying to catch a vole for Dappletail – I figured if I can’t make Father happy I can at least make everyone else happy… for the rest of eternity.”

Mistyfoot’s heart broke for him. How could Tinystar do this to his own son?

“You said you had another sign?” Nightpaw recalled. “Y’know, before we got yelled at.”

Mistyfoot blinked in shock. They were alone for the first time in what felt like ages. She could finally tell him! “It was amazing,” she began. “I was standing on a hill, before this great big--”

“What is going on here?”

Mistyfoot’s jaws snapped shut.

Tinystar appeared, pushing his way through the ferns, his tail and head held high. Mistyfoot’s heart sank. What were the odds? Twice in as many days? Nightpaw whimpered, shuffling back to stand closer to Mistyfoot, as if she could shield him from his father.

“I was hunting for the elders,” Nightpaw replied quietly.

“And I was hunting with Mousefur,” Mistyfoot reported.

Tinystar narrowed his eyes. He looked around the fern-choked glade. “I see neither Dustpelt nor Mousefur,” he stated.

“I can’t speak for Dustpelt, but Mousefur ran off after Spiderpaw,” Mistyfoot explained.

“Dustpelt sent me out alone,” Nightpaw meowed.

Tinystar blinked. “And this is how you choose to obey orders? Talking here like jackdaws instead of hunting them?”

“We just happened upon each other!” Nightpaw insisted, his eyes wide. “W-We were just chatting for a moment!”

“Oh?” Tinystar questioned, his eyes frustratingly skeptical.

Mistyfoot dug her claws into the earth, her spine rigid. “Yes,” she snapped. “We did just happen to run into one another. We’d have to, since you’ve been dictating our every move as if you don’t trust us!”

Tinystar’s icy gaze turned to her. “Cats who do not obey my orders are cats I cannot trust!” he snapped.

Tension crackled in the air. Mistyfoot stepped forward, fur bristling. “Obey me or be punished? Is that how you are now? The only cat I know of who thought like that was Bluestar!” she snarled.

Silence descended upon the forest.

Mistyfoot fought to keep herself from trembling, from taking back her words. Tinystar’s eyes were glittering like icy claws, and Mistyfoot imagined them slicing into her throat. Comparing Tinystar to Bluestar… what was she thinking? Had she snapped, suddenly? Gone mad?

“Mistyfoot and I have done nothing wrong,” Nightpaw meowed, his voice breaking the silence. “You need to ease up on us, or at least tell us what we did. This isn’t fair, being punished for something we don’t know about! Father, can’t you see that?”

The chill fled Tinystar’s gaze. Mistyfoot heard the regret in his voice, the tiredness and sorrow: “I am doing what is best for the Clan, my son. You two… you two need to understand that.”

Suddenly it hit Mistyfoot like a blow. They weren’t being punished – there was something that Tinystar knew that he could not tell any other cat. Something that involved them.

“Mistyfoot,” Tinystar continued, his voice still subdued, “get back to hunting. Find Mousefur. Nightpaw – get back to camp.”

The small black tom turned and left, his pawsteps the only sound in the forest.

When he was gone for sure Mistyfoot told Nightpaw, “Go back to camp.”

“What?” Nightpaw breathed. “I don’t want to!” He leaned against Mistyfoot, trembling. “I’ve never been so scared of him, Mistyfoot. Don’t make me go back!”

“I dreamed of a lake, Nightpaw,” Mistyfoot meowed. Suddenly the dream tumbled from her jaws: “It was far away from here, and bigger than any puddle we’ve ever seen, surrounded by forests and moorland and everything we could ever dream of. Mosspaw was there, and she told me she was waiting for me… so we’re going. Tonight.”

Nightpaw was stunned, as if Mistyfoot had hit him on the head. He shook his head and insisted, “I’m coming.”

Panic flooded Mistyfoot. “You can’t!” she insisted. “I can’t be responsible for your safety.”

“I can’t stay here!” Nightpaw threw back. “I don’t know what’s wrong with Father but I won’t be punished for it! I want to see this through, Mistyfoot – I need to!”

Mistyfoot swallowed. The thought of Nightpaw being left here, alone… it hurt just as much as thinking of what might happen to him on the journey – or what might happen to him if he tried to follow on his own. She pictured him huddled in the log, the badger crashing down on him…

She sagged. “I know,” she meowed. “I understand.”

“When are we leaving?” Nightpaw asked.

Mistyfoot looked up at the sun. Evening was sliding into nightfall. She would have to leave again almost as soon as she got back to camp at this rate, if she were even allowed to leave at all. Resolved, reisgned, and fluttering with anxiety… there was only one time to leave:

“Right now.”