#juniperblooded

[windy-trickster]

For Christmas, Hyleem gives Yarrow one of these made to look like her luses

-> The Juniperblood seems to get incredibly excited at the massive stuffed toy! -> She takes it and squeezes it happily, wiggling a little in place as if she had a tail. She leaned and planted a kiss on the top of her moirail's head, clearly delighted by the present!

[ruefulcurse]

The banquet is a lot like the social parties she once attended in her youth. Therefore, she knew the ropes of how to play hostess. She had wandered out into the flower garden, to check to see if anyone was there or needed assistance and upon stepping out she notes of someone vaguely familiar. A memory crosses by her, hair as dark as ash, skin as pale as the moonlight–– a figure from her memories flickers before her which causes her to straighten. But she composes herself, then calls out toward him.

“A lover of flowers, hm...?”

Watching him turn around, she continues to speak toward him.

“I thought the same, when Lady Hinoka had shown me around, or were you merely wandering and ambling by...?” She recalls seeing them at the entrance, him and his Master, but she felt quite...shaken by his Master’s appearance but she mostly kept it to herself. 

@juniperblooded

[midnightwalkin]

HECK YEAH!! Honestly i feel like this last year a lot of people ive seen worry about getting replies done or being active, maybe it would do everyone good to take a breather from tumblr for awhile

[deadseeing]

ooc. a thomas, a ansel and a raine (x3)

[idrownko]

Cooking, cleaning, laundry–– they were duties she technically didn’t have to do anymore but with little to do nowadays she did it to keep busy. After her revenge tragedy finished, she accidentally brought the plague to her small town. It killed everyone except for her, so she returned to Frau Holle and began to work for her again. And her job expanded beyond cleaning around the older woman’s home–– she became an errand girl of sorts. From bringing parcels to Herr Laurent from Big Sis Holle to bringing freshly baked bread to Herr von Friedhof. 

...And it has been awhile since she’s last met with him too. She travels through the worlds, taking the golden door per usual with warm bread wrapped nicely. The golden door leads her pops her out from the bottom of the well, and she grabs ahold of the rim and jumps up onto it. 

“Guten Morge---AAAA!” The blond loses her balance, eventually leaning forward and falling onto someone and she watches something tumbles from their hands.  “E-Eek!” She rolls off of him, but remains on her knees still.

“O-Oh no! What should I do? Are you okay? Can you hear me?!?” 

@juniperblooded

[interludetorevenge]

@wolfram-von-friedhof † previously 

Wolfram stirs and, hearing the sob, turns over in bed. “Vatti?” he whispers. He only gets a whimper in reply. He must be dreaming, he thinks. Wolfram sits up from bed and leans over, gently placing a hand on Marchen’s shoulder.

“Vatti,” he calls softly, shaking his father a little to jostle him from sleep. His voice is unexpectedly calm and even. “Vatti, please, wake up.”

Had a certain presence still resided within him, they might have said Just push him off the bed; he’ll wake up. But then his Vatti would relive all those terrible memories of falling–of dying. Wolfram steels himself and shakes Marchen’s shoulder a little harder. “Vatti, it’s only a dream. Please wake up.”

This is too much, even him. He watches as the fusion of the girl he loved and the copy of her shatter. The pieces float away, out of reach.  I shouldn’t be alive, ah god–– similar negative thoughts swirl within his mind space. He’s becoming overwhelmed. It’s then a voice silences the rest, it’s soft initially, but it becomes louder, echoing within the darkness. 

‘Vatti.’ The voice–– it’s familiar, wait, he knows that voice. ‘Vatti, it’s only a dream. Please wake up.’ Another spotlight appears, he sees a silhouette of someone he loves dearly. The boy runs, even though the shadowy hands try to slow him. He wads through it till he reaches the figure, then goes to embrace him. Everything becomes white.

...Teary red eyes slowly open; another tear trickles down his cheeks. 

He takes a moment to compose himself. “....Wolfram.....” He turns back onto his back, then when he’s ready he slowly sits up. “I’m sorry, d.....did I wake you?”

[soulreviver]

{I’m wishing I hadn’t been so timid and tried to interact more with @dersunder, @recklessmoon, @juniperblooded/ @koenashi​ and @archivierten​ when they were all more active...suddenly longing to connect with Necromancer fans but they all seem to have vanished.}

[fatestand]

“Participants of the Holy Grail War, heed this announcement.” The sister stands at the altar once more to impart her message, a message that she regrets she has to make. “As you are aware, Servants summoned to fight in the Grail War are not weapons to be wielded recklessly, pointed at civilians that take no part in the battle. Unfortunately, we have received reports of the contrary.” 

She pauses, her voice grows stern. “Master of Caster, Leo Nohr. Master of Assassin, März von Ludowing. Both of you have been found guilty of misconduct. It has been brought to our attention that you have commanded your Servant to take civilian life and our investigations have confirmed this. As penalty, the church hereby decrees that you are to relinquish one of your command seals. I shall collect them here at this church.”

“You will be given one week to comply. Should you refuse, we will request that all other Masters take action against you. The church hopes that this serves as fair warning to all Masters that further violence perpetrated against civilians will not be tolerated.”

ooc context is here, plus the relevant threads, basically the two accused had ordered their servants to kill some ppl for personal reasons towards the start of the war and it was decided that there would be consequences from the church. I’ll provide another update on the resolution to this after both parties have responded!

@recklessmoon @juniperblooded @dersunder @fearfulfracture​ @heroes-and-lords​ @soulreviver​

[recklessmoon]

@juniperblooded

“...and they lived happily ever after.” 

März finishes the story, closing the cover of the book and looks down to the sleeping form snug against him. He watches Wolfram’s breathing rhythmically going up and down, his long eyelashes flutter every now and then. Placing the old book off to the side, fluidly the conductor scoops the toddler into his arms, and presses him against his chest.

Thankfully, Wolfram is an easy child to please, so it didn’t take him long to lulled him to sleep. He steps away from the pews and summons forth members of his entourage with a flick of his wrist. They heed his command, swiftly joining his side.

“He’s finally fallen asleep, Herr von Friedhof?” A woman asks, who adorns a dress with shades of red and black her face hidden by a feathery mask. 

“Indeed, he has,” A nod follows, while he side eyes her, “may you assist me to putting the pews together?”

“Why not use the upper quarters?” suggests a man in a black suit, wearing a similar feathery mask, “it should be a lot more comfortable upstairs, no?”

“I’d prefer for him to be downstairs, he’ll be safer and more accessible to me.” It’s a shorter distance, it’d take less time to go through double doors than to run from there up a flight of steps. “Now would you mind....?”

“Not at all,” they reply in unison and with little effort they fix the pews, pushing them together to form a makeshift bed. The lady disappears and reappears fetching the blanket from another part of the sanctuary while the man has gotten a pillow from upstairs. 

“Thank you again,” März then steps forward to the bed, laying his son inside and places the blanket on top of him. He leans forward to kiss his forehead, then moves back, “Vatti will be back soon, alright....? Sweet dreams, mein schatz.”

He turns toward his nameless assistants again, then smiles. “Now, would you mind watching over him tonight? In case he awakens.”

They immediately oblige, watching their lord turn on his heel who summons forth his baton for another long night. 

Wolfram never felt unloved, he’s always been drowned in it, he’s always been catered to. He knows his parents love him, even though they’re usually away. That’s why Father found Friedrich and gave him to him as a friend at the (very) tender age of six months so he wouldn’t be lonely. Wolfram knows his parents mean well, he learned to accept it.

Besides, he isn’t entirely alone, every now and then he’d catch the wisps of red and black from his peripheral vision, watching over him from the distance. A few times he mistook some of his Vatti’s entourage for him, because they dressed in a familiar black and red. 

(Perhaps it’s because he yearned for his Vatti’s affections, his touch, to hear his gentle voice when he felt lonely. But that’s selfish isn’t it?). 

Vatti’s assistants are nameless, their identities buried underneath the sands of time. However, he’s able to identify some of them for their talents. One knew how to sew, another knew how to child rear, and one of them knew a thing or two about playing a stringed instrument. In times when Friedrich would become a little overbearing they’d appear before him, and distract him with some menial task. 

Even though they are physically with him, Wolfram can’t help but feel lonelier because of their aloofness. They were close, but far away; they were companions to Wolfram’s loneliness when neither his cousin Vanessa or his Vatti or Father were with him. 

“How long has Vatti been doing this?” Wolfram asked the more masculine appearing assistant once, they sat inside the church as Wolfram skimmed one of the books for the umpteenth time.

“Quite long.” He answers, “before your birth, of course.”

“Do you...know why Herr?” Wolfram asks. 

“To help others,” The man answers simply, “there is too much injustice in this world, and we–” He refers to the rest of his father’s assistants, how many more were there? “are the prime result of that.”

Wolfram nods wordlessly, going back to contents from the book. It was always like this. But Vatti was doing this for others, this was the right thing to do. And Wolfram loses himself between the pages again, evading the creeping loneliness in his heart. Eventually goes to bed, arranging the pews into a bed and falls into a deep slumber hoping to dream of his family.

“The child has been restless lately.”

“I wouldn’t blame him, after what he’s gone through.”

“But doesn’t he feel familiar? There’s something more nostalgic about him now.”

The unfortunate accident between his former client and son caused a disruption of peace. An ancient power swelled in his son, and honestly März wasn’t sure of how to confront it. Wolfram had drawn into himself, putting up barriers to prevent the unimaginable for everyone’s sake. But that only made everyone else worry for his well being; it was a cruel cycle, he wanted to break it somehow. 

How much longer would his own sins harm his family? He doesn’t go a night without thinking that, but it appeared he was dealt some divine punishment in some shape or form. The chatter of his attendants overlap with his own thoughts, as they ready themselves for another long night.

( “Drowned underneath the ethereal moon, a cursed princess dealt with a cruel fate. Why have you remained at the boundary? Please sing for me.” ) 

While they have achieved another small victory, his duties as a revenge conductor do not distract him. Instead of this I should be looking for leads for Wolfram, März thinks as he watches Odette and Siegfried ruin Rothbart. They were given another chance, but not his son. He purses his lip together as the revenge tragedy concludes and they make their way home, returning back to the entrance of the church. 

The moment he enters the church, he feels his body suddenly feel heavier. He groans, while he pushes on ahead, stumbling through the threshold. It’s then a voice he didn’t want to hear emerges.

“Having difficulties, boy?”

“Of course not, I know what I must do. I know what I’m doing.”

Id laughs mockingly at him, it echoes in his skull which causes März to frown.

“I might just have the answer you may need.” Id tempts him.

“That’s a bunch of nonsense and you know it.” März curtly replies in his mind, while making his way into the sanctuary. He looks around for familiar violet and black colors, but they aren’t here. “Since when were your ideas ever good?”

“Till that broad ruined everything.” It answered back.

“Don’t bring Elisabeth into your twisted games.” 

“Ha ha, well, you were having a grand ole time before she woke you up, didn’t you?”

März feels bile rising up his throat and he physically shakes his head. He runs his fingers through his messy strands of hair. He deeply inhales then exhales, now else where could he be? Hm.

“It might’ve been your fault, by your hand,” Id continues on, März can hear the smirk in its voice, “think about it, everyone involved made contact with us at some point and requested a revenge tragedy. Whose to say your son isn’t any different? He is the outlier here.”

März tries to ignores Id as he makes his way toward the kitchen, speeding up his gait with every passing word. Where was Wolfram anyway? He notes how the door is ajar and he gently pressing his palm against it, the door creaks open and Wolfram is there. März sighs with relief, then steps inside. Wolfram’s back is toward him, but he watches his shoulders shake for a moment and fumble with something in front of him

“Wolfram...? Why are you still awake?”

“U-Um, I....Vatti...g-guten abend, I was just...getting some water to drink before going back to sleep.” Wolfram reluctantly turns around, there’s a glass of water in his hands. His son smiles sheepishly, “W-welcome home...how did things go...?”

“They went well,” März replies shortly, he shortens the distance between them and places his hand gently onto his shoulder. “and how was your day?”

“It was fine.” Don’t burden him, Wolfram thinks to himself, the atmosphere is suffocating him and that knife he was eying earlier was awfully tempting, “I’m glad it went smoothly though...um...Father came home earlier. He, uh...made an sexual innuendo about you before and seemed sad that he just missed you before returning to help grandfather with something.”

Only Amethystos would. März feels annoyance spring up in him, but it subsides when he hears the rest. At least he came home to visit Wolfram, it made him happy to know that he wasn’t left alone for small time. With a guiding hand, März proceeds to lead him outside of the kitchen.

“Let’s go to bed....together...like before,” März begins, while rubbing his son’s shoulder gently, he watches his son’s eyes shine like they did before...before this whole mess started. “Would you be okay with that?”

“Y...yes!” Wolfram replies eagerly, but he realizes that and then says with a sheepish afterthought, “um, if you do not mind of course...Vatti.”

With a smile, März leads his son upstairs to where he and his mother used to sleep. It took some persuading because Wolfram felt funny about it, but in the end he were able to procced without any problems. As he lays side by side Wolfram, while gently rubbing the top of his head – he tries to ignore the annoying voice of Id and the troubles that may arise later with this child known as die Ashenprinz.

Fairytales truly do have happy endings. 

März had been cynical of them since being denied his own happiness once. But with dawn emerging above the horizon, it meant a new future was opening up to the newer generation. 

His son made his first friend, a boy who came from the future. He had saved him from the recesses of his mind and guided his son out of the realm of the darkness. 

His son was able to find the love of his life, while the child who gave them a hard time finally remembered who he was. What else did the future hold? The golden boy whom his son met was the pinnacle of light < love > that he often dreamed about. And his son was able to meet that, without succumbing to the darkness. They were able to triumph together, successfully.

And as a father, it made him the happiest that he could have been.

Perhaps that’s what his own mother, Therese meant when she’d be the last to bear the darkness so he’d be able to go into the light. It seemed like the torch had been passed onto him now, but he didn’t regret a single thing.

Even if Id continued to bother him about his son’s happy ending, he would never give in and allow its thoughts to plague his mind. 

The darkness from his hair begins to ebb away, allowing for the moon to finally be able to seen again. With a sigh of relief, März gives Wolfram a smile when he turns toward him. 

Wolfram’s smile blinds him, it’s the happiest he’s ever seen him.

And the moon reflects it back, showing its true colors. 

“The light is so warm, Vatti.” 

[fatestand]

So I have confirmation from everyone that we want to proceed with this verse! I’m thrilled! It means a lot to me that there is still interest. I’ll endeavor to spark some life into this verse and will get a starter/plotting call for my muses soon so look out for that. (here it is!) You guys are free to stir things up as well. It’s a good time to start thinking about building alliances. There will also be a church announcement shortly. 

Do you guys think we should have a chat to discuss/plot? My go-to would be discord, but I’m not sure everyone uses that.

Rei (Ludger mun)’s blog is at @fearfulfracture now so please follow there. The accounts I’m tagging below is what I assume everyone’s main point-of-contact blog is, if that’s changed let us know!

@dersunder @heroes-and-lords @recklessmoon @juniperblooded @soulreviver

[ruefulcurse]

@juniperblooded

“I can’t believe you––” 

“Me? But you ate the last of my apple pie from last time!”

“I apologized for last time, I thought it was the blackberry one...!”

“But still––!”

As she’s descending the stone stairwell, Therese hears familiar voices echoing throughout the main sanctuary of the church. Her son was asleep, Friedrich too, and Amethystos left early to deal with his daily duties in Hades. As she pushes through the threshold leading into the main floor, she watches her two grandsons squabbling over food. Her heels click across the stone floors, alerting the two brothers of her appearance.

“What’s the matter, Wolfram, Ansel?” Therese asks, closing the distance between them. Someone must’ve ate the last of something, or whatever. It’s unclear at the moment.

“Ansel ate the last piece of the blackberry tart you made....” Wolfram replies, with a small frown.

“Hey, I apologized for that...!” Ansel said, turning to face his brother. “ I was still half asleep from that nap...!” 

“Oh my,” Therese covers her lips behind fanned fingers, “well, there’s nothing we can do about that. But it was an honest mistake on Ansel’s part, though. Did he apologize?”

The duo replied yes in unison; one being slightly more enthusiastic than the other. Therese stifles her a chuckle, now dropping her hand back to her side. While it was a absolute tragedy, it’s nothing that a little gathering and shopping couldn’t fix.

“Do we still have materials to make another?” She watches them side eye one another, then in a comical fashion head to the kitchen. Therese follows after them, so it’d take less time for them to get back to her. By the time she rounds the corner, she watches Wolfram’s head pop out from the kitchen entrance, wearing a look of disappointment that’d be the equivalent of a cute yet sad dog that would melt and break the hearts of many.

“...We don’t have enough.” Wolfram says, it’s the saddest she’s seen him – their first meeting aside, “I’m sorry Oma. If only if Ansel didn’t eat––”

“Hey! I’m apologized for that...!” She hears Ansel shout, she slowly makes her way toward the kitchen entrance.

Therese claps her hands together, with a smile, there’s a twinkle in her blue eyes.

“Well, if we’re out we’ll just have to gather more, yes?” Therese then dips past them, grabbing a wooden basket, she pivots around to face them, “you said there’s a market in Hades...correct?”

“Oh yeah, your right, where are the drachmas that Father left?” Ansel turns toward Wolfram expectantly. 

“It’s in the main sanctuary, under the floorboards, with the rest of my things,” Wolfram says, then beckons for his grandmother and Ansel to follow. It doesn’t take long for him to grab three for each of them. 

And when they were ready to go, the trio go outside and descend into Hades.

After a trip across the Styx (no issues this time; Uncle Elef had a stern talking with Charon), both Therese and her grandsons were able to grab the necessary materials. She had gotten a some extra to prep for her baking lesson when they returned home. 

And by the time März finally rolled out of bed, searching for his family members with a case of bed head not as wild as Wolfram’s, he was woken up by the overlapping aromas from the kitchen.

He stayed outside of the kitchen entrance, listening in to the conversation.

“Hey, wait–– Wolf, that’s too much of...!” 

“No it isn’t... I know what I’m doin–– aaaAAAA NO YOU’RE RIGHT...” 

“It’ll be alright,” He hears his mother’s voice clear as day, her voice gentle and reassuring, “we’ll be able to able to fix this. Besides, I had gotten extra materials too, so don’t worry about it.” 

A chuckle rolls past his lips, März now enters the kitchen watching his sons and mother trying to fix something. He chuckles while watching Wolfram and Ansel collectively sigh in relief. They both straighten when they see him, then smile.

“G’morning, Vatti.” 

“Good morning, Vatti...did you sleep well?”

“Good morn...are you sure it’s the morning still?” März blinks, “ but I did, yes. Baking with Oma, I see...?

“Yes.” Therese answers from the back, “you just made it for some blackberry and apple pie. Would you like some for breakfast, mein schatz?”

“Mm...sure, let me grab some plates then.” He walks around them, going to fetch some from the cupboards and brings them to the table. By the time everyone sits down, the pies are cut into and divided onto four plates.

And they were delicious experience.

(Sadly, Friedrich wasn’t able to get any because he woke up too late).

[midnightwalkin]

@juniperblooded || continued from here

"Use you?"

Thomas repeats the other's words, speaking in a tone that was lost in thought, dreamlike. His brows furrow just slightly as his brown eyes flow to the side. What a strange thing to say... But the look in Wolfram, the sincerity is real. So much so, that Thomas feels his heart thud heavily in his chest. People like this are rare. It almost hurts to look at him sometimes. Because Thomas is not sincere. He's a liar. He buries everything to avoid ridicule, disappointment. But, looking at him like this, Wolfram won't leave him, will he?

"I..."

His mouth feels dry. Thomas curls a few fingers in front of his lips to hide the worry in his voice. He's waivering.

"I killed someone, Wolfram..."

And now that the truth has escaped him, Thomas is thrown back into the past. Into the viper's pit. He could feel it seeping into him as if every scene, every moment had only occured hours ago. The light slips from his eyes, like a lantern fading in the dark.

"I killed my father."

[recklessmoon]

@juniperblooded

“Batti...?” 

Curious, round violet eyes search the interior of the sanctuary. When he woke up, his Vatti was no where to be seen. Someone tucked him into his makeshift bed on the pew, but he wasn’t sure who. 

“Batti...where are yooouuu?” After wiggling out of the blanket, carefully, Wolfram climbs out of the pews pushed together while calling out for one of his fathers. His little feet tap onto the stone tile, while whirling his head around, panning his gaze to widen his search. The church was still dark, so it was hard to see any distinctive figures. The interior’s illuminated by candles, lowly lit too so it made the search harder. But little Wolfram was persistent to find him, even if not seeing him made him uneasy. 

A calming melody passes through the walls of the church, causing his head to turn toward the entrance of the church. Maybe Vatti’s there? He hobbles toward the front door, making a attempt to turn the handle but the doorknob is a little too tall for him. It’s when the door suddenly opens for him causes him to jump back.

“Wahh!” Looking upward, a lady adorning a red and black dress has appeared at his side. He stares up in wonder and curiosity. “Where Batti?”

The woman doesn’t immediately answer him, causing the child to pull at her skirts, asking his question again. She then kneels down to his height, “He’s working right now.” 

“Bwing me to him, pwease..??” 

Her gaze looks outside the crack of the doorway, then she returns looking at him. “Very well, but hold onto my hand.” 

“Okay.” Wolfram takes the woman’s hand, she leads him outside to the dark forest. There’s a light fog filtering through the forest, everything seems to illuminate because of the full moon glittering above. Beyond the well, Wolfram’s able to see his father’s head. When they round the well, he notes they aren’t alone. 

Close by to his father are men and women wearing similar outfits to the woman holding his hand. His father stands in the middle of it, raising his arms up and down for some reason. A large gasp leaves Wolfram’s lips, as a beautiful melody weaves around him. It’s mystifying and soft, almost like a lullaby. It almost coaxes Wolfram to sleep, but he’s far too excited to see his Vatti working. He’s never told him about it before though. This beautiful illusion crumbles when a terrible shriek echoes throughout the forest, causing a shiver to go up his spine. 

The music starts to become louder, booming making the forest begin to shake. It’s when he hears something snap that’s accompanied by raucous laughter makes him start to cry.

The music comes to a startling halt, where the conductor pivots around and briskly walks toward him. In fluid motion, März takes Wolfram into his arms, holding him close to his chest. He shoots a look toward the woman, who remains neutral. 

“I thought I told you to watch over him.” His Vatti’s voice is firm, but remains soft when talking with his coworker. 

“I did.” She answers plainly, “but he awoke and he wished to see you.” 

Wolfram hides his head in März’s dress shift, sniffling quietly to himself. The conductor’s attention turns away from his coworker to calm his son. “Everything is alright now, Vatti’s here...” He coos to him softly, “...are you alright, mein Schatz?” 

“Mmhm...” Wolfram doesn’t eye him just yet, “...wanted t’see you...Batti...you disappear.”

“But I’m here now...I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.” He watches Wolfram pick up his gaze, violet eyes bleary with tears; his cheeks are a little red too. März kisses the top of his son’s head, then the tip of his nose which causes Wolfram to smile a bit. “Did the music wake you?”

“No.. it was pretty...I liked it.” Until the end of it, until the scary part happened. 

“I see....” März adjusts his son in his arms, while gently rubbing behind the back of his neck. He glances toward his ensemble, who wordlessly vanish. The woman disappears too, whose carried onto the wind. 

And the forest is quiet once more, for now. 

“...Let’s go back inside, okay? Let’s go to bed together now.” 

And he carries him back inside, quietly shutting the double doors of the church. 

Periodically since that incident, Wolfram’s made many attempts to watch his father work. As he grew, he became more accustomed to his father’s job. März’s found his son sometimes sitting behind the well sometimes after a job’s been completed. 

He’s a lot taller now, roughly looking around the age of seven or eight physically. But his son’s persistent to stay with him every waking moment. It’s become a lot harder to stay with him during the mornings because originally he’d be awake at night and sleep during the day. But balancing that out with Wolfram has become harder. 

“Wolfram...” His voice is soft, tired, but remains firm, his golden eyes downcast at his son who clings to his tailcoats, “...sleep is important for you, as much as I’d like you to stay up with me....you cannot.” 

“But...Vatti..” He continues to cling, “I never get to see you anymore...” 

It tugs at his heart strings, but he persists. Otherwise his son won’t get a decent amount of sleep. März turns toward Wolfram, crouching down to his height and affectionately rubs the top of his head. “ You will, I’m sorry..but work’s gotten busy for me. I’ll be sure to make some more time for the two of us.” 

“Okay...” It hurts him more to see his son dejected, but he’s looking out for him. He doesn’t want the bags under his eyes to get worse. “..good luck, Vatti.” 

“Thank you,” März rises to his feet, he smiles warmly, “hopefully in a few days I’ll be able to show you somewhere special to me.” 

But that day never came.

His empty promises persisted, just like the promises he never got to keep in the end. But Wolfram understands, because Vatti’s working everyday for a good cause and I shouldn’t be selfish.

Wolfram and Vatti are like morning and night, their meetings are brief and one will die for the other to live. But morning dawns when his son comes up to the well, whispering words he once spoke once upon a time.

“Vatti...the light is so warm.” 

He climbs and envelops him in an embrace, with fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. To commemorate, März creates a song just for him to celebrate. The song is familiar, wistful and soft like that one evening long ago. 

[deadseeing]

“Hey, are you interested in pulling a prank, Ansel?” Her brow quirks toward the older boy, it’d only work if he cooperated with her. “you know, with Peter and my dumb brother...?” 

How would they get them to confess? Usually Ansel took matters into his own hands, getting right to it. That’s what she liked about him and a lot more shh.

@juniperblooded

[juniperblooded]

( @youkaitastic // continued from here )

….Honestly?

Grinding his teeth, Lars feels his blood boil underneath his skin. It was honestly tiring that these buncha punks had nothing better to do! And taking it out and using Wolfram as a hostage too? Now, he’s just getting started.

“Fiiiine, you’re on,” He grumbles, stuffing the note into his jacket pocket and throws his backpack onto his shoulder. He makes a beeline to the third gym, passing by his sister (she said something, but he didn’t catch it) and arrived just on time. He scans the area, looking for Wolfram high and low till he catches sight of the back of his head. But the damned losers were all around him.

What the hell? Well, he had nothing really holding back.

“Now, ‘m here, let him go,” He throws his backpack off to the side, then cracks his knuckles, “unless y’all wanna get your asses beat, ––huh?”

@juniperblooded

When a group of boys that Wolfram had recognized as the school’s regular delinquents had suddenly accosted him from behind, his immediate thought hadn’t been Why me?! or Let me go! but rather How the hell did they find me because I’m not anywhere close to the vicinity of actual people what the fuck. (His locker is still very far removed from everyone else’s, so really, how the hell did this happen.)

Things had started to make more sense on the way to the third gym—the tiny one that’s mostly used for when away teams needed a place to congregate. According to his mental chart of activities going on campus, it should be completely empty. It could be a shakedown, Wolfram reckons, but then again why didn’t they just go it at an equally abandoned part of the school? The whole plan didn’t click until they started to talk about that “fuckin’ little shit Young.” Okay, so it wasn’t a shakedown at all; this was a hostage situation.

Yeah, that makes sense: Wolfram is arguably the easiest target to acquire for a hostage, provided you actually know who he is.

It becomes apparent very quickly why they chose him as they shove him through the doors of the third gym. The others close to Lars can put up a very good fight, even Raine. But after living with Ansel for a while, Wolfram’s picked up some things.

Like how to execute a proper headbutt.

It stuns the group momentarily—because who would expect a dork like Wolfram to actually have the balls to do that?—but it gives him enough time to break through the circle of jerks. He sees Lars by the door and he shouts, “Run, run, run!”

[interludetorevenge]

Happy 4th Birthday Wolfram! 

To a very special son. 

@wolfram-von-friedhof