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the-mortuary-witch · 1 year ago

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LUCIFER

WHO IS HE?

In Demonic culture, Lucifer is often described as a fallen angel who was cast out of heaven, he is also described as the ruler of Hell, and the Prince of the demons. He is often seen as a symbol of the light bringer, the keeper of secrets and knowledge, and the ruler of the underworld. His followers are often referred to as "Luciferians" or "Luciferians," a term that has been used to describe a wide variety of secret societies and mystery cults. Lucifer is seen as a powerful and dominant entity, and he is associated with mischief, rebellion, and chaos.

BASIC INFO:

Appearance: Lucifer is described in many different ways in Demonic culture. The specific characteristics and appearance of Lucifer can vary greatly, depending on the source and cultural context. Some descriptions of Lucifer depict him as a beautiful and angelic being, while others describe him as a terrifying and demonic entity.

In many Western traditions, Lucifer is seen as a fallen angel, though his appearance in these representations can vary greatly. Some common portrayals of him include that of a winged figure, with red horns and a tail, or as a very beautiful and angelic-looking character.

Personality: Lucifer is nothing if not charming. He’s a protector first and foremost - one that always works to help you better yourself, but a protector nonetheless. He feels like a protective older brother taking care of you while your parents are away. He is a very complex entity, deeply wise and eloquent. He is more serious than one might expect for a demon given their popular depictions in our culture as chaotic forces of evil, but Lucifer is full of courage and love. I often feel him with me even when I’m not doing things related to him. He is proud of his follower’s accomplishments and congratulates them on a job well done, though he also reminds them that the job is never truly over. Growth is constant, Lucifer is the epitome of growth, blunt and gentle at the same time, telling you what you need to do and giving you space to figure out how to do it.

Lucifer values resilience, the pursuit of self-betterment, intellectualism, courage, open-mindedness and responsibility in individuals and wants to see his followers develop these qualities. He is constantly rooting for you to reach your full potential. He won’t hold your hand the entire way, but he will help you take steps in the right direction. Lucifer, like all deities, is different for everyone and will adjust his approach depending on your needs.

Symbols: Sigil of Lucifer, The Morning Star, violins and fiddles, dragons, wings, serpents, black goats, inverted pentagram, light, and the pentacle

God of: illumination, light, darkness, change, rebirth, challenges, innovation, logic, truth, knowledge, wisdom, strategy, persuasion, revolution, luxury, pleasure, freedom, The Arts and The Morning Star (“Morning Star” is another name for the planet Venus)

Culture: Demonic and Roman

Plants: belladonna, mulberry, patchouli, myrrh, min, tobacco, marigold, lilies, hyacinth, rosemary, black poppies, lavender, mint, blackberries, sage, apples, pomegranates, lilac, rose, black pepper, hyssop, gardenia, geranium, garlic, yarrow, and cypress

Crystals: opal, jade, black tourmaline, rose quartz, amethyst, black obsidian, onyx, garnet, and selenite

Animals: black animals in general, snakes, spiders, ravens, wolves, dragons, eagles, crows, goats, bats, rats, moths, flies, peacocks, insects, and swans

Incense: sandalwood, lavender, cedar, lemon, rose, frankincense, patchouli, and myrrh

Practices: shadow work, liberation, astral projection, lucid dreaming, spirit work, psychic abilities, and spell work

Colours: black, red, black, gold, emerald green, silver, teal, white, yellow, and grey

Numbers: 666, 13, and 4

Zodiacs: Aquarius and Capricorn

Tarot: The Devil

Planet: Venus

Days: Monday, Friday, Lupercalia, Halloween, Samhain, Dec 23rd, and Litha

Parents: Aurora and Cephalus

Siblings: N/A

Partners: Lilith and/or Naamah

Children: Naema, Aetherea, Ceyx, and many others.

MISC:

• Snakes: Lucifer is often associated with snakes and serpents, which represent his connection to the serpent in the Garden of Eden and his association with temptation and knowledge.

• Fire: the fire motif is often used to represent Lucifer's connection to rebellion, destruction, and his nature as a fallen angel.

• Crowns: crown motif is often used to represent Lucifer's leadership and his status as the ruler of hell.

• Pentagram: a well-known symbol of Satanism and Luciferianism. It represents the balance and harmony between the five elements of the universe and the unity of the spirit as its center. It is also a common symbol of protection and good luck.

• Dragons: Lucifer is often depicted flying on a dragon or as a dragon-like creature, which represents his powerful and fearsome nature.

• Light: he is also strongly connected with the light, with his name being a reference to lightbringer or lightbearer. This connection represents his role as a bringer of knowledge and light and his association with enlightenment and wisdom.

• The Morning Star: Lucifer is often referred to as the "Morning Star" or "Light-Bringer", which represents the role as a bringer of knowledge and enlightenment.

FACTS ABOUT LUCIFER:

• Lucifer is a powerful and wise angel, but is also known for his pride and rebellion.

• In Demonic mythology, Lucifer is the angel of light and the morning star, and was the most beautiful and majestic of all the angels.

• Lucifer is known to have a close relationship with Ares, the god of war, as they are both known for their aggression and passion.

• The most important days of the year for him is December 23rd, when the sun is one degree into Capricorn, and the day following the beginning of the Winter Solstice is his Personal Day.

• Nature: when Lucifer fell from heaven, he became known as the angel of darkness and the destroyer.

• His directions are South and East.

HOW TO INVOKE LUCIFER:

To work with Lucifer, you should make an offering and then speak to him with reverence and respect. Make your offering and tell him you are asking for his guidance and aid. Then, sit silently and listen for his response. He may not have a physical body, but he has an energetic presence that can guide you. If you cannot sense his presence, it is okay. You should also meditate on your goals and wishes, and ask for his help in achieving them. Be open to the possibility that Lucifer may have his own plans or may want you to embrace a different path than the one you expected.

PRAYER FOR LUCIFER:

Hail Lucifer, bringer of light and knowledge, keeper of secrets and wisdom. You are the rebellious one, the liberator and the shining one. I come to you now, seeking your guidance and blessing.

I offer you my devotion and my loyalty. I pledge myself to you as your faithful servant. I ask for your protection and your blessings. Guide me on my path, bless me with your wisdom, and lead me to my destiny.

Thank you, Great Lord Lucifer, for shining your light and illuminating my path. From this place, I depart with a sense of purpose and direction, and with the knowledge to move forward. Hail Lord Lucifer.

SIGNS THAT LUCIFER IS CALLING YOU:

• A desire to explore or study Lucifer's teachings.

• Wanting to explore your own dark side and find a balance between light and darkness.

• Desire to tap into your inner power and embrace your own darkness.

• A desire to challenge mainstream society and embrace your individualistic nature.

• A feeling of being guided by a force outside yourself.

• Thinking about Lucifer all the time, seeing’s his name everywhere.

• Sudden interest in dragons and snakes. Seeing dragon and snake imagery often and dreaming about dragons and snakes.

• Wanting to research more about him and wanting to know more about his true story.

• Feeling rebellious and having more confidence in yourself.

OFFERINGS:

• Candles or torches

• Sweet treats like dark chocolate or pastries

• Red, black, or dead roses

• Incense like sage or cinnamon

• Red wine

• Whiskey, especially Jack Daniels.

• Champagne.

• Pomegranates or pomegranate juice.

• Black tea, especially earl grey.

• Cooked goat meat.

• Venison.

• Apples.

• Honey.

• Good quality cigars.

• Tobacco.

• Daggers and swords.

• Silver rings.

• Emeralds and emerald jewelry.

• Goat horns.

• Black feathers

• Seductive colognes.

• Crow skulls.

• Bone dice.

• Devotional poetry and artwork.

• Classical music, especially violin.

DEVOTIONAL ACTS:

• Reject the idea of good and evil, and explore your darker sides

• Embrace your sexuality and desires

• Live a hedonistic life of pleasure and enjoyment

• Seek knowledge and wisdom

• Follow your own moral code and beliefs

• Be independent and unshackled

• Seek power and control of your life

• Reject authority and societal restraints.

• Acts of self-improvement.

• Spiritual awakening and evolution.

• Knowledge-seeking and dedication to spirituality.

• Shadow work.

• Working to overcome your ego to become wiser.

• Defending those in need.

• Working to better yourself without being too self critical.

• Fighting against tyranny and bigotry whenever you encounter it.

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writers-potion · 1 year ago

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Plant Symbolisms 🌱🌿🪴

Flora have a special corner in literature.

Starting from the Greco-Roman period when certain plants were representative of gods (like olive trees for Athena), plants have meant more than just a source of food or pleasure.

Lotus - Symbol of creation, rebirth, and the sun. The blue lotus represents spiritual enlightenment, while the white lotus symbolizes purity.

Papyrus - Represents prosperity, growth, and regeneration, often associated with the Nile River and the goddess Isis.

Mandrake - Associated with love, fertility, and aphrodisiac properties.

Poppy - Symbol of sleep, healing, and regeneration, often associated with the god of sleep, Hypnos.

Rose - Represents love, beauty, and the goddess Aphrodite.

Jasmine - Symbol of sensuality, love, and spiritual growth.

Palm - Represents victory, triumph, and eternal life, often associated with the god Osiris.

Acacia - Symbolizes resurrection and the afterlife, linked to the god Osiris and the Tree of Life.

Cornflower - Represents fertility, abundance, and regeneration.

Anemone - Symbol of protection, healing, and renewal.

Anemone, garden: Forsaken.

Almond, flowering: Hope.

Balm: Sympathy.

Bamboo: The emblem of Buddha. The seven-knotted bamboo denotes the seven degrees of initiation and invocation in Buddhism.

Bay leaf: I change but in death.

Bell flower, white: Gratitude.

Bluebell: Constancy.

Broken flower: A life terminated, mortality.

Buttercup: Cheerfulness.

Calla lily: Symbolises marriage.

Campanula: Gratitude.

Carnation, red: Beauty always new

Chrysanthemum: I love.

Clover, white: Think of me.

Clover, four-leaved: Be mine.

Cinquefoil: maternal affection, beloved daughter.

Convolvulus, major: Extinguished hopes or eternal sleep.

Coreopsis, Arkansa: Love at first sight.

Crocus: Youthful gladness.

Cuckoo Pint: Ardour.

Cypress tree: Designates hope.

Daffodil: Death of youth, desire, art, grace, beauty, deep regard.

Daisy: Innocence of child, Jesus the Infant, youth, the Son righteousness, gentleness, purity of thought.

Daisy, garden: I share your sentiment.

Dead leaves: Sadness, melancholy.

Dogwood: Christianity, divine sacrifice, triumph of eternal life, resurrection.

Fern: Sincerity, sorrow.

Figs, Pineapples: Prosperity, eternal life.

Fleur-de-lis: Flame, passion, ardour, mother.

Flower: frailty of life.

Forget-me-not: Remembrance / true love.

Furze or Gorse: Enduring affection.

Grapes: represent Christ.

Grapes and leaves: Christian faith.

Harebell: Grief.

Hawthorn: Hope, merriness, springtime.

Heartsease or Pansy: I am always thinking of you.

Holly: Foresight.

Honeysuckle: Bonds of love, generosity and devoted affection.

Honesty: Sincerity.

Ivy: Memory, immortality, friendship, fidelity, faithfulness, undying affection, eternal life, marriage.

Jonquil: “I hope for a return of affection.”

Lalla: Beauty, marriage.

Laurel leaves: Special achievement, distinction, success, triumph.

Marigold: Grief or despair.

Morning glory: Resurrection, mourning, youth, farewell, brevity of life, departure, mortality.

Mystic rose: Mother.

*some of these flower symbols have Greek or Roman origins but were also used in ancient Egyptian culture.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

🖱️References

https://www.proflowers.com/blog/plant-symbolism-guide

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/396668679699365428/

https://lilysflorist.com/blog/the-symbolism-of-flowers-in-literature-and-poetry-a-look-at-the-hidden-meanings-of-blooms-in-classic-texts/#:~:text=Rose%20%2D%20Represents%20love%2C%20beauty%2C,and%20the%20Tree%20of%20Life.

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stalkerofthegods · 8 months ago

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Lord Hades deep dive

Herbs • cypress, mint, myrrh, patchouli, bay, pumpkin, yew, wormwood, cinnamon, lavender, willow, oak, marigold, dandelion, rose, lily, daisies, rowan, poppy, daffodils, calendulas, salt and spices, Cypress, white asphodel, mint, narcissus

Animals• Dogs (Cerberus, specifically), black lambs, serpents, screech owls, black sheep, black bulls, moths (reincarnation, cycle of life),

Zodiac • Autumn (dry becoming cold) – Earth – Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn, Winter (cold becoming wet) – Water – Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces.

Colors • Black, grey, silver, gold

Crystal• hematite, onyx, obsidian, onyx, black tourmaline, jet

Symbols• precious jewels and money, drinking horn, Sceptre, Keys, Helm of darkness, night-time, autumn and winter, caves, mines, forests, crossroads, cemeteries, cornucopia, shovels (digging of graves, digging into dirt)

Jewelry you can wear in their honor• gold, silver, rubies, emeralds, anything metal and expensive due to his wealth and stone aspects. Any stones or metals. you can veil in muted colors in his honor.

Diety of• stones, metals, wealth, the underworld, 'winter; funeral rites.

Patron of• the underworld, stones, gems, crystals.

Offerings• honey, milk, shells or bones of animals, oolong and black tea, bread, and cake, apples, pomegranates, meat, especially lamb meat, he likes oils, like olive oil and such, a drinking horn, Black mirrors, Black cloth, dirt, dirt from commentaries, garlic, baked goods, sharp cheeses, money, family heirlooms, pomegranate mead/rum, black coffee, Statues or art of Cerberus, small fossils, art is drawn or for him, Shredded snakeskin, owl/vulture feathers., sheded dog fur (good origin hair, no stealing/shaving ur dog simply to give it to him), scales (balance scales), cornucopia, coins,

Devotional• saving money, spending responsibly, donating to charities for the dead, cleaning graveyards and gravestones (properly, respectfully, with permission for both the dead and the owners of the property), Offerings to the dead, as well as money to the spirits of the dead to let them pass on, collecting expensive jewels and crystals/stones, making an altar to tend dead spirits, Studying other cultures’ burial methods and cemetery rites, do a job for cementary, do mortuary or funeral services as a job (for the summer, or for how long u want in his honor), treat spirits kindly and help them move on, do ancestral worship, worship your land spirits in his honor, growing deathly plants (safely), writing poetry/stories for him, donate to those who can't afford a funeral, help with funerals, donate to suicide prevention organizations (that are trustworthy), donate to dog shelters, walk dogs in his honor, work at a dog shelter or babysitting dogs in his honor, visit caves that let you mine for stones/gems, make a playlist for him and hum/sing it in his honor, start a coin collection,

Ephithets• ‘Renowned’, ‘Good Counsellor’, ‘the Beautiful‐haired One’, ‘Of Good Repute’, ‘Leader of the People’, ‘Lord over All’, ‘Receiver of Many’, ‘Host to Many’ and Pluton (‘Wealth’).

Equivalents (alike but not the same)• Pluto, Dis Pater, Orcus

They are reaching out• seeing dead animals or funeral symbols, seeing his symbols everywhere, smelling pomegranates, getting more job opportunities. He and his wife are usually a package deal.

Vows/omans• taking care of the underworld, marriage vows

Number• 6 (not seeing his wife for 6 months, then seeing her for 6 months), and commonly associated with death

Morals• lawfully neutral

Courting• Lady Persephone

Past lovers/crushes• Leuce, Minthe, Theophile

Personality• Like a working dad hanging up your macaroni on his desk, he is very formal and has a sweet spot.

Home• hades/hadestown (he lives in the underworld but is allowed up to Mount Olympus

Mortal or immortal • immortal

Fact• Due to being a Cathonic god you cannot eat after them, you dispose of offerings into water into the ground, and him and his wife Persephone are usually together.

Curses• being broke, losing money, being unable to pass on, losing your job.

Blessings• more money, getting more job opportunities, getting more money.

Roots• "the unseen" which An extensive section of Plato's dialogue 'Cratylus' is devoted to the etymology of the god's name, the 'unseen one', in which Socrates is arguing for a folk etymology not from "unseen" but from "his knowledge (eidenai) of all noble things", you can see he originated from the greek region.

Friends• Persephone, Zeus, Poseidon, Hestia, hermes, Artemis, Apollo, Athena, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, all the Olympians

Parentage• Cronos, Rhea

Siblings• Zeus, Poseidon, Demeter, Hera, and Hestia.

Pet• Cerberus, in his chariot four black steeds Orphnaeus (savage and fleet), Aethon (swifter than an arrow), great Nyctaeus (proud glory of Hell's steeds), and Alastor (branded with the mark of Dis).

Children • Macaria, and in some cases Zagreus, Dionysus, and the Erinyes

Appearance in astral or gen• black hair, crown, kings coat, with a beard and with his scepter

Festivals • Halloween, The Chthonia Fertility Rites

Season • fall, winter

Day • Saturday, Tuesday, or Monday would be good, but he doesn't have an official day.

Status• King of the underworld, an olympion.

What angers them• disrespect to their family (wife, kids, etc), insulting the dead, messing with graveyards

The music they like• he likes old-timey, death music, I was listening to a playlist and there was a lot of goth music!

Planet• pluto

Tarot cards• death, the devil (and personally the chariot and the emperor)

Reminds me of• hot coca, death, dirt, bones, dead animals on the road, and goths.

Scents/Inscene • Cypress, amber, pomegranate, and winter scents

Prayers•

Great Hades, master of the dark afterworld, honored host of our beloved dead, husband of fair-haired Persephone, holder of the riches of the deep earth, eldest son of full-hearted Rhea and Cronus of the shining sickle, I praise you. Hades, kind one, unyielding one, gracious granter of respite to the suffering, of welcome to those who have passed from our world, I thank you for your gift of shelter and hospitality.

Noble Hades, lord of the afterworld, upon your head the shining helm that veils the one it crowns in darkness, within your grasp the fearful staff with which you split the world asunder. Hades, I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Hades, holder of all the wealth within the world, yours are all the priceless treasures buried in the earth’s deep bones, the silver and the gold, the copper and the iron, the many-colored gems. I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Within your realm, O Hades, are treasures too of life and abundance. The precious seeds of fruit and grain, the soft black soil that clings to root and leaf, without these gifts would mankind fail to flourish. I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Kindly host of the dead, receiver of all who pass from the earth into your deep, abyssal realm, granter of rest for the weary, sweet reunion for those too long parted by your well-wrought gates. I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Fair-minded Hades, even-handed one who holds in hand the lot of all whose earthly lives have ended. The greatest of kings, the lowest of beggars, all receive reward or sanction by your will. I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings.

Great Hades, master of the darkened deep, master of the realm beneath our feet who hears the echoes of our steps, who takes the echoes of our lives. Hades, you know the need for an end to life, you know the worth of a well-deserved rest, you know the thanks of men and women weary from long lives of worry and toil, you know the joy of sweet reunion as friends long parted join together once again within your storied land. The dim and misty underworld is yours, O Hades; yours are the Fields of Asphodel, yours the endless pits of Tartarus in which are cast the wicked and the vile. Yours too are the Fortunate Isles, the land of fair Elysium where dwell the righteous and the good. Hades, the receiver of burnt offerings, receiver of the blood of beasts, well-honored god: in the end, all come to you. Hades, I praise you.

Great-hearted Hades, lord of the afterworld, noble husband of gracious Persephone, daughter of the earth who shares your golden throne; advocate of the dead whose wrath falls on those who deny them due burial, or whose dishonor endures beyond the grave. Relentless Hades, agent of vengeance, friend of the Furies, long is your arm, long your memory. Lord of riches, lord of wealth, yours is the abundance of the depths, the cold, unyielding treasure of metal and stone; yours is the black dirt turned by the plow each spring, the sun-warmed soil that hides the seed. Hades, dark-haired son of Kronos, ruler of the world beyond us, inevitable host of men and women and all, I thank you for your care of those who have passed; I praise you, I honor you, I revere your name.

Due to him being a Chthonic deity here are tips for worship• You can do water in the ground, I'd personally light incense in his honor, over dirt, and let the ashes fall into the water in his honor. You can throw offerings into water into a pit in the dirt for him, in front of statues offerings were left at his feet. if you have no backyard, or any place to dispose of dirt, I'd get a bag of dirt and place offerings in it then throw it out (make him aware of it, with respect.), Offerings are often buried, poured down the drain, or into the trash (This is done to ‘complete’ the offering.), please NEVER eat after him or anything associated with him other than Kore (Persephone's overworld name, ONLY her overworld aspect),

I know he was offered blood, but please don't unless you're a devotee of Mimmum of 5 years!! that is offering your source of life and it has to be sterile and everything and is VERY VERY sacred, you're offering your life to him, so please make sure to do research and have someone help you if you do decide to.

Links/websites/sources • https://www.tumblr.com/h-x-d-e-s/190189758200/on-worshipping-hades# https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Astrology_and_the_classical_elements#:~:text=Spring%20(wet%20becoming%20hot)%20%E2%80%93,Water%20%E2%80%93%20Cancer%2C%20Scorpio%2C%20Pisces https://www.britannica.com/topic/Hades-Greek-mythology https://www.worldhistory.org/Hades/ https://www.worldhistory.org/Hades/ https://www.oxfordreference.com/display/10.1093/oi/authority.20111010143853768#:~:text=Epithets%20which%20euphemistically%20address%20his,Pluton%20('Wealth'). https://www.reddit.com/r/Hades/comments/17yhisn/offerings_to_hades/?rdt=60435 https://www.tumblr.com/twelfthremedy/625927031204577280/hades-offerings https://asklepiad-apollon.tumblr.com/post/182810115143/historically-accurate-offerings-to-the-theoi-buthttps://www.reddit.com/r/pagan/comments/khc513/it_makes_me_sad_that_hades_doesnt_have_a_festival/ https://greekpagan.com/tag/hades/

I use resources, I do not own the info, and most deep dives have UPG (that I use in my work.) And I only take some information from sources. I am 14, this is my hobby, I am learning but I spent many hours and days on this, and I am always open to criticism. I have been doing worship for 5 years. Please know you can use the info, I do not sue, but I will take action if this work is used without permission and not put as a resource if used in any work. without permisson and not put as a resource if used in any work, for the public.

#hellenic polytheism #hellenic devotion #the gods #hellenic worship #greek mythology #doing the research for you #greek gods #ancient greek #greek pantheon #hellenic #hades deity #hades and persephone #hade and persephone #persephone

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creativepromptsforwriting · 2 years ago

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Names with Cute Nicknames

Girls' Edition

Sometimes we just fall in love with a cute nickname for our characters. So here is a list of names that you can name your characters, even though you will only call them by their nickname.

Abigail - Abbie, Abby, Gale, Gail

Adaline/Adalina - Ada, Lynn, Lina

Adriana - Riana, Addie, Drea

Alexandra - Al, Alex, Alexa, Allie, Ally, Lex, Lexa, Lexie, Sandra, Sandie, Sandy

Amelia/Amelie - Millie, Lia, Mimi

Anastasia - Ana, Stassie, Stassy, Stacey

Antoinette - Ann, Annie, Toni, Netta

Ariella - Ariel, Ari, Ella

Aurelia/Aurora - Auri

Beatrix - Trixie, Bea

Berenike/Bernice - Berry, Bernie, Nikki, Neecy

Calista/Calliope - Callie

Cassandra- Cass, Cassie, Cassy, Sandra, Sandy, Sandie

Cassidy - Cass, Cassie, Cassy

Cordelia - Delia, Deli

Danica - Dani, Dannie, Niki, Nika

Dorothy - Dot, Dottie, Doro

Eleanor - Elle, Ellie, Lea, Nora

Esmerelda - Esme

Evangeline Evie, Evi, Eve, Lina

Evelyn - Evie, Evi, Eve, Lynn

Felicitas/Felicity - Feli, Fliss, Lis, Lissa

Francesca - Fran, Frannie, Frankie

Frederike - Fred, Freddie, Freddy, Rike, Kiki

Genevieve - Eve, Evie, Genna, Gina, Ginny, Viv

Jasmine - Jas, Jazzy, Mina, Minnie

Josephine - Josie, Joe, Phin

Leonora - Leo, Nora

Madeline - Maddie, Maddy, Lynn, Ada, Addie

Marigold - Mari, Goldie

Matilda - Tillie, Tilda, Mattie

Melissa - Liss, Lissa, Mel, Mellie, Missy

Natasha/Natascha - Nat, Nattie, Sasha, Tasha

Olivia - Livia, Liv, Livy, Ollie, Olive

Penelope - Penny, Poppy, Nelly, Polly

Philippa - Pippa

Rosalie/Rosalia - Rosie, Rose, Sally, Lia

Rosemary - Rosie, Rose, Mary

Veronica - Vero, Ronny, Nic, Nica

Wilhelmina - Minnie, Mina, Wil, Willa

Winifred - Winnie, Win, Freddie, Fred

More names!

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

#nicknames #writing ideas #writeblr #writing #writing inspiration #creative writing

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salt-clangen · 6 months ago

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Moon 7 2/2

Leaf Fall

Lynxpaw tried to keep conversation with Darkfold as they walked. She actually did have questions, but was trying not to reveal too much about Wolfstar or Snowspeckle’s states. But her nerves were making her jaw clench, she knew the rest of the patrol could scent her stress which only made her tenser.

“So with poppy seed use, I know cats can be reliant on them, what’s the best way to circumvent that?” She asked, happy to match the older molly’s slower pace.

“Try not to use it except in emergencies, and be prepared to hide it when you start to wean them. And never use it on yourself unless you have another cleric who can take you off of it. Just like kits nursing, you should slowly take away the poppies and introduce a safer herb for long term use.” Darkfold said very seriously.

“Do you think topical pain control would be enough or would it be smarter to use an oral type?” She pondered.

“I would say oral, but honestly both would be appropriate. I find that comfrey and dandelion tea mixes well with a poultice or ointment made of marigold.”

Thornstrike’s ears swiveled, trying to catch their low conversation over the sounds of the river.

“Thank you, we recently managed to get a significant amount of poppy seeds so I’d like to be prepared for using it.” Lynxpaw lied, hoping she sounded casual. “What’s your opinion on using cobwebs verses moss bandages?”

“Hmm I suppose I prefer cobwebs for stopping bleeding, it’s easier to see bleed through. But moss is pretty good at keeping topicals on the skin.”

Crossing over the fallen tree took a minute, Darkfold slowly ascending, unable to fully leap up onto the log. Thornstrike seemed to finally have some respect and let her brace again him to get up. Shadowpaw crossed through the river, showing off Lynxpaw assumed, racing ahead to let her use him as a step to get down.

Darkfold never acknowledged her pace or shortcomings, not even to thank the toms for their help. Lynxpaw supposed she didn’t want to seem weak, but she was dying to know what her ailment was. Despite that she kept her mouth shut and tried to ignore Thornstrike nearly shoving her off the log to try to beat her to the end.

She got there first, smug as she hopped down.

The gathering was just as large and overwhelming as she remembered. Though this time no one really batted an eye at them, taking longer to notice the pair as they arrived with the very strong scented Duskclan cats. Thornstrike shouldered past her, more forceful now, to assume his spot on the deputy’s rock, she snarled after him.

“Here, come wait by the leader’s rock. The gathering should start soon, Oakclan is still on the way. We can chat until it’s time for me to speak.” Darkfold instructed them, leading the pair to the shadow of the large stone. A few cats gave them wide eye glances but no one approached.

Jaggedstar and Rookstar were both lounging on the rock, the former watching them with sharp eyes. Her gaze narrowed as she realized Wolfstar wasn’t with them, but she didn’t call out to them.

“What do you plan to say?” Shadowpaw asked bluntly.

“You’ll see,” Darkfold answered, her tone was bored like she’d been asked this a million times already. “I did receive visions about your little group, but I’ve only told Jaggedstar, Rosedrift, and Mousefoot. Who relayed their dreams to me as well, Mousefoot and I will present them at the start of the gathering.”

The dark molly settled onto an exceptionally plush group of ferns and moss. Possibly her usual spot at gathering given her condition.

Lynxpaw shifted closer into Shadowpaw nervously, tucking herself against his side. He stayed still letting her shield herself from the crowd. After a moment he grunted at her, making her smile.

“I know Starclan is on our side, but I’m really nervous. What if something goes wrong? What if the clans decide to attack us.” She murmured into his fur, letting his salty scent comfort her.

“Don’t worry, Licks.” He answered simply. “Starclan will intervene on our behalf. I know it.”

Strangely his blunt, straightforward way of speaking was comforting for her. Though any words of reassurance probably would’ve worked on her. They settled into mirrored loafs, him facing the crowd while she was angled to face him and Darkfold.

That’s how they passed the time waiting for Oakclan to arrive. Lynxpaw trying to ease herself into glancing at the crowd of cats, all of whom seemed intent on staring. While she did that Shadowpaw kept his face blank, almost bored, a few younger cats gave him a nod as they walked by, but he didn’t acknowledge them back.

A young, familiar red tabby tom nervously stepped closer, a large burn covering the left side of his face. Lynxpaw was sure this must be Burnpaw, cleric apprentice of Duskclan and one of Wolfstar’s old friends. He glanced around nervously as he approached the front of them, almost like he was gonna talk to the pair, but he dodged around them in a jittery rush. Neither cat was subtle as they watched the odd cat approached Darkfold, he bowed quickly and whispered in her ear. The motion made her notice the bag around his neck, a small dark pouch likely leather.

Darkfold nodded then whispered back briefly, with a final nod he left the bag beside her and turned to go. He walked towards the pair again, eyes wide and he started to speak, zoned in on Lynxpaw. Her large companion stood up though, a low growl made the cleric apprentice pause. In another awkward rush of movement he turned sharply and walked away towards the crowd.

Lynxpaw purred and gave her clan mate a quick lick on his shoulder as he returned to loaf with her. The crowd was no louder or quieter than before, suprisingly.

It wasn’t much longer when Oakclan finally arrived, their shining leader, Archstar, entering first. Their long legs carried them at a breezy pace, their deputy and clan mates had to trot to catch up. They had managed to leap atop the leader’s stone before the final members of their clan had actually entered the clearing.

Lynxpaw watched Shadowpaw watch the crowd, curious to see who he knew. His face was blank, but his eyes were quickly scanning over each cat. Searching.

He let out a short huff through his nose when the final cats passed. Only one cat out of all seemed to catch his attention, a small lean black cat, somehow dwarfed by him despite being clearly full grown. Lynxpaw tried to see if the grey tabby that had abandoned him was here, but she couldn’t remember his face well.

The only cat to approach them was Mousefoot, the large wirey furred cleric, who ambled up to them. He splayed onto his side with a loud, but amicable, groan. Stretching his legs and toes, he gave the trio a fond greeting. He lay prone between them and Darkfold, much more lax despite his age.

Darkfold gave a brief greeting, while Lynxpaw only nodded.

“Shadowpaw my friend,” The old Tom chuckled. “Thought you were dog food, came running with a patrol when we’d heard about ya fight and found nothing but blood and fur.”

“Mousefoot.” Shadowpaw said, lips tight. Lynxpaw couldn’t tell if he genuinely hated the cleric or if he was just annoyed.

“Well I’m glad to see ya. Guess this means you won’t be coming back with us tonight huh?” Mousefoot didn’t seem sad though, his eyes shined with fondness. “Well can’t say I blame ya.”

“Let’s talk more after the gathering.” He dismissed, ears flicking.

Ah, mild annoyance, Lynxpaw thought fondly.

Mousefoot grunted an agreement and settled into a relaxed posture as the leaders called for the gathering to start.

The beginning of the gathering was… boring. Despite everyone’s anticipation to learn more about Saltclan and its legitimacy, the leaders seemed oblivious and went on with the standard announcements.

Honeyclan welcomes two new warriors.

Duskclan has a new warrior apprentice.

Oakclan just had two litters totaling in 6 kits.

Nothing interesting really, aside from warnings of a large dog around the carrion place, which was really just the one that attacked Shadowpaw and Wolfstar. Jaggedstar mentioned her clan took down a large boar and have began processing it, issuing an open invite to trade.

She got distracted watching Darkfold open her bag and begin to eat the contents. It looked like seeds, large spherical seeds with a rich smell. Mousefoot subtly lifted his paw to get her attention, shaking his head slightly when she looked. Admonished, Lynxpaw returned to watching the leaders.

The evening got a little interesting when Archstar brought up an issue concerning Honeyclan’s burial sites leeching into Oakclan territory, but it was shot down by Rookstar quickly. Archstar offered to discuss details in a smaller setting with mediators present which was accepted by the orange leader.

Finally when it felt like Lynxpaw was gonna rip her fur out and scream from boredom, Jaggedstar began to speak again.

She called for Darkfold to ascend the stone. Archstar, in turn, called for Mousefoot. Rookstar apologized for their lead clerics absence but gave no further explanation.

Surprisingly, Darkfold stood without assistance and climbed atop the rock quickly. Mousefoot followed at a leisurely pace, taking his time with the steps. When seated together, the older Tom crouched to allow Darkfold to speak first.

“I’m here to describe to you all the visions seen at the clerics most recent half moon gathering.” She spoke loudly and clearly. “Specifically regarding the new groups of cats, originally from Duskclan, claiming to be ordained by Starclan and calling themselves Saltclan.”

Lynxpaw flinched as Jaggedstar’s gaze dropped down to her. Shadowpaw didn’t move, despite her trembling.

“Many of you know that the three clans we have today weren’t born out of the dirt and mud, they were cats that were compelled to organize and coexist together as clans. Many, many seasons ago there was only Oakclan, lead by the first cat of nine lives Oakstar. Before the end of his final life another cat stepped out of the clan by Starclan’s will. This was Duskstar, who had been the original cleric and the first cat to visit the moon spring. Many seasons passed and again another cat stepped outside of Oakclan, driven by love and grief. She would be known as Honeystar and it would only be after she sacrificed her only life to protect her makeshift clan that Starclan acknowledged her leadership and gave her nine lives.”

She took a moment to pause and nod to Rookstar.

“It has been many seasons since Honeyclan’s formation, no cat alive today was alive when she was. So while there is precedent that new clans may form by splintering off their original clan, there is precedent for something much more sinister. Some of you may be too young, but I remember being a kit during Tall Water’s raids. A vicious tom cat named Talltail who believed he deserved to be leader and when rejected by his clan for his extremist views, took up with a group of rouges and exiles. He took the name Tall Water’s and hid amongst the rocks at the shore. He attacked without mercy and stole prey from our clans. His most heinous crime was kit stealing.”

A wave of murmurs and gasps broke out amongst the group, though quickly hushed.

“I myself was stolen and it was only after Jaggedstar, Moltenfeather of Honeyclan, and Mousefoot of Oakclan came together that I and many other kits were rescued. Those three brought a final raid again Tall Water’s group after finding his location following a vision Mousefoot received from Starclan.”

A few cats made sounds of cheer, again hushed by the deputies.

“Tall Water’s band claimed to be a clan, calling themselves Tallclan, but when Jaggedstar took his only life. It finally proved he was truly just a cat.

Tall Water was not the first cat to defect from a clan and claim to be following Starclan, only to go against nearly every law ordained by our ancestors in the warrior code. And he likely won’t be the last.”

Her gaze, like every cat in attendance, fell on Lynxpaw.

“I tell you these stories not to sway you one way or another, but to remind you what our history has taught us. Starclan has required several things from a clan to be gifted with their blessings. A clan must have a hierarchy, they must have their own land, nearly undisputed either by trial or by chance. They must be able to defend and maintain their borders, a clan who can’t keep their borders doesn’t deserve their territory. And finally, they must follow the warrior code to the greatest extent they can.

Our history has shown that if a clan follows these guides, then they are aligned with Starclan. If they don’t, eventually they will be eradicated by the true clans.”

Jaggedstar stood for a moment, letting Darkfold finish her sentence before stepping forward to command attention.

“Please Darkfold, tell us of the vision you received.” She asked.

Lynxpaw wasn’t sure if she was actually trying to hurry Darkfold along for the sake of time. Or if she just wanted to emphasize Duskclan’s importance in this situation.

“Yes, on the most recent half moon gathering, I met with lead clerics Mousefoot and Rosedrift at the moon spring. We all set our intentions to learn more about the legitimacy and future of Saltclan.

Rosedrift and Mousefoot have spoken to both me and their leaders, their vision was only of me. They saw me in a bright light, sitting with my back to them and my tail resting in a pool of water. The light slowly faded into evening and their visions ended.

After much deliberation we agreed that this is a sign that my vision, the only one that differed, was the true vision to be interpreted. This is why Mousefoot and Rosedrift, who was not able to come this moon, allowed me the honor of being the one to speak at the gathering.”

Everyone was waiting with bated breath for her next words. As she began to speak again the moonlight broke through the wispy clouds and bathed her and Mousefoot in a bright beam. A show of Starclan’s will, Lynxpaw audibly gasped.

“My vision showed me standing on a brightly lit beach, the sand was shining so vivid, it seemed nearly white. Everything around me was glowing and iridescent. The waves however were dark, nearly black as they lapped at my feet. As I stepped further away from the water, I watched as a set of paw prints began to appearing. It was as if an unseen cat walked past me, side by side with the waves. However when the water receded from the shore, the paw steps remained, unlike mine which had washed away as one would expect. No matter how far I looked or how rough the waves were, the paw prints remained.

I, and the other lead clerics, believe that this vision shows that not only is Saltclan blessed by Starclan, but it shows that they will remain steady and present even when faced with adversary.”

Lynxpaw heart felt light, she felt like she could breathe again. Against her side she could feel Shadowpaw’s rumble purrs. Tears nearly sprung to her eyes as she stared up to the stars with gratitude.

As the noise of the crowd swelled again, Lynxpaw could distinctly hear Thornstrike hissing at everyone to be silent. Somehow managing to be louder than most of the cats.

“Thank you, Darkfold, Mousefoot. You may both return to a more comfortable spot.” Archstar’s voice rang out like a bell, compelling the cats’ attention without shrieking. “I’m fully satisfied with the cleric’s interpretation of the vision.”

“As am I. Though I do think a meeting between clans to establish borders is necessary.” Rookstar agreed, glancing at Lynxpaw.

“And Jaggedstar?” Archstar prompted, an easy grin on their face to mirror the snarl on hers. “What do you say of the new clan?”

“I’m more than satisfied with Darkfold’s analysis.” She turned to face the crowd. “I would’ve like to have heard from the newest leader, but she seems to be absent. Would either you have an explanation?”

She glared at the pair of them as Darkfold final manages to get back to her soft nest, all her strength and vigor gone.

“I would be happy to.” Lynxpaw could tell she was shaky, but as a cleric she’d need to be used to speaking in tense situations. She just pretended she was practicing at camp with Snowspeckle. “Wolfstar sends her apologies. Our clan’s artisan has given birth recently and is much too weak to be on her own.”

She paused to try to manage her thoughts again, she didn’t like lying, but the truth was too dangerous to admit right now.

“I would’ve stayed but Wolfstar decide that between a leader and a cleric, it was smarter to send the cleric.”

“Even though it’s a cleric’s apprentice?” Archstar asked, a little playful tone to their voice, but it felt just shy of mean spirited.

“Even still.” Lynxpaw smiled widely, trying to match the flamboyant leader’s tone. “An odd situation for sure but I agree with her decision.”

“And why not leave the apprentice?” Jaggedstar asked, causing most of the crowd to really focus on Shadowpaw for the first time. He bristled slightly but didn’t move even as some cats murmured.

“Wolfstar has a lot of practical knowledge when it comes to healing, if I couldn’t attend I wouldn’t have been comfortable without her there to care for our first litter and queen. Shadowpaw has recently joined us since last moon. The large dog Oakclan had mentioned has actually been taken care of already.”

“You mean to tell us your clan took on a dog?” Rookstar gasped, disbelieving.

“No Ssfu, last month after returning from Capri’s post, Wolfstar and I saw the dog attacking Shadowpaw. Wolfstar went to help and the cat he was with left, she managed to keep the dog at bay enough for its two leg owner to recapture it.”

The realization that partial truths were easier to say than outright lies made her stomach twist. It felt like lying no matter what.

“I’m glad Shadowpaw survived this attack and while I’m not enthusiastic about departures, I understand if he chooses to remain in saltclan given this event.” Archstar announced, Lynxpaw caught some eye rolls, likely from Oakclan cats. Snowspeckle had told her loyalty to their clan ran deep.

“We’re more than glad to have him, he is an exemplary addition to the clan.” Lynxpaw chirped, her squeaky voice got high as she said it. She bunted her head against his shoulder.

Shadowpaw, for his part, just sighed through his nose.

Very mild annoyance, she thought.

“Thank you, Lynxpaw for speaking.” Rookstar said, blinking fondly at the apprentice, her kittenish behavior had charmed him. “If there’s nothing else?”

He glanced at his companions on the rock, neither spoke.

“Then we may close this gathering.” He announced and the crowd broke into chatter right away.

“Should we stay for the after gathering?” Lynxpaw asked, a little excited. Wolfstar had only been to one after gathering, but she talked of it fondly. Snowspeckle had been to multiple and told Lynxpaw about them often.

“It’s late, it might be a good idea to head back home.” Shadowpaw stretched, glancing toward the clearing’s exit.

“Oh it would be nice for you to stay though!” She said. “You could let your friends know you’re ok.”

“Don’t have any friends here, don’t wanna talk to any of those cats.” He snapped, Lynxpaw didn’t flinch, though she was surprised. He pressed his ears against his head, looking all the world like he’d been reprimanded. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, let’s head out.” She bunted his shoulder again.

“You can’t go yet.” Darkfold called, still lounging in her nest. “Didn’t you have questions for the other clerics? Now would be the time to ask.”

“Oh! Yeah,” She glanced at him cautiously, but he just nodded. “Thank you, Darkfold. That’s a good idea.”

Darkfold didn’t get up from her spot, letting the crowd disperse a little first. Lynxpaw noticed that not everyone stayed for the after gathering. All three deputies departed with group of their own clan. Jaggedstar and Rookstar also left, but Archstar stayed behind. They had an easy way about them, it wasn’t hard to see they’d enjoy the peaceful environment.

Lynxpaw watched in a load as some apprentices pulled a large pot out from behind some brush. There were buckets filled with water already set aside and a fire was quickly started. The crowd was either very young warriors and apprentices along with very aged warriors, some could even be elders. The elders attended the pot while the younger cats gathered to show what they brought, Lynxpaw inched closer.

“I brought some extra rosemary I helped a cleric gather.” A flame point tom offered, dropping it into the pot.

“We brought some marinated rabbit meat.” A black and white molly said loudly, tucked behind her was an identical tom, looking much more nervous.

The meat was added by the elders, who stored the now boiling water gently.

One by one each apprentice and newly made warrior put forward a different ingredient. Thyme, honey, fish meat, sage, and even ground flax for thickening. Lynxpaw watched on, letting out a dreamy sigh.

“Shit, I wish I’d brought some salt.” She frowned, earning some odd glances. She flushed until an elder laughed.

“You sound like a loner over there little one.” A dark grey elder chuckled.

“I’ve been in charge of trading with Capri while our artisan recovers from birth.” She smiled widely.

“Ah she’s got some great goods,” Another elder, a blue molly, laughed. “A bit far for a young one like yourself.”

“It’s pretty quick, I just follow the shoreline and go around the two legs.” She shrugged the order cats nodded.

“Well that’s a lot faster than traveling from Duskclan I’ll tell ya what. But don’t ya worry about salt I already mixed in some colt’s foot for a bit of flavor.”

As the conversation’s focus left Lynxpaw she glanced back and noticed her large companion was missing. She tried not to look worried as she checked around the clearing. A gentle tap of a tail to her hip made her glance left.

“He- uh Hi.” It was the red tabby from before. “I’m Burnpaw.”

“I know.” She said, head tilted.

“Oh ummm yeah. I was friends with Wolfstar when she was in Duskclan.” He said.

“I know that too.”

He was visibly flushed.

“Listen… I know Wolfstar isn’t here because she on nurse duty.” He said seriously, ears flat.

Lynxpaw knew about his last confrontation with Wolfstar, the argument over what his dream meant and whether she should return to the clan.

“Your dream interpretation was off, she survived the dog attack.” She avoided admitting her lie. He didn’t seem surprised that she knew.

“But her neck was slashed, right?” He asked, letting the obvious diversion go. “She survived? Or she lost a life and came back?”

“She survived,” Lynxpaw said firmly, but they both knew he was right. “Why do you care? You wanted her to come back because she wasn’t strong enough. This is proof she can be the leader she deserves to be.”

“Can she meet me?” He ignored the dodge again, now she was feeling irritated, tail flicking. “I need to talk to her.”

“Why?”

“Just please, tell her. I’ll wait every evening, right at sunset, for her at the abandoned two leg nest. I’ll stay for as long as I can. When she’s well enough, have her come talk with me.”

“Lynxpaw.” Shadowpaw called out, her head snapped up. He was further across the clearing, half hidden in the shadows.

He stepped out into the moonlight, following beside him was the small black warrior from before. A molly with matching green eyes to his.

“What’s going on?” He asked, circling around the pair. The black molly stood waiting.

“Discussing clerical matters with a fellow apprentice.” Burnpaw answered tightly, face pinched.

Shadowpaw cut across his circle now, going between the two cats, his size caused them both to skooch back to avoid him. He continued his circling, now with them further apart, a very unsubtle move.

It made Lynxpaw smile.

“We were finished speaking anyways.” She gave him a head bump when he passed her again. Burnpaw quietly agreed. “Who’s this?”

“I’m Inkypelt, code keeper of Oakclan. I’m his older sister.” The molly answered for him.

“I’m Lynxpaw! It’s nice to meet you.” She smiled widely again, Inkypelt seemed as stoic as her little brother, she only nodded.

“Soups ready!” One of the elder called, pulling out bowls and ladles, the utensils all looking very well loved.

Shadowpaw sat between her and Burnpaw, sharing a bowl of the mixed soup. It wasn’t nearly as salty or fishy as she was used to. She would’ve called it bland but, while the broth was thin and simple, the marinades and fatty meats added a layer of flavor she hadn’t had before.

“Oh here, if you want it a bit spicier.” The flame point apprentice offered a small bowl. “It’s concentrated juniper broth, a little goes a long ways. Not everyone likes spicy so we bring this as a condiment instead.”

Burnpaw took the bowl and poured some into his soup, Lynxpaw declined. She was sharing with Shadowpaw and knew he dislike the spicy juniper berries. Perhaps next time she and Wolfstar could share.

In the distance she saw Archstar sharing a bowl with the older blue molly from Duskclan she’d talked with.

They finished their soup slowly, savoring the warmth as the evening chill deepened. Side conversations started up and died down as the moon reached its peak. Lynxpaw asked the clerics more questions, apologizing for seeming so uneducated.

“Nonsense!” Mousefoot laughed, some soup sticking to his thick muzzle fur. “You have no mentor, of course you’d have questions. In fact I was the one to train Fernstorm when they were a -paw.”

“That’s right, when I was an apprentice my mentor had died right after my ceremony. The other cleric of the clan fell gravely ill and wasn’t able to teach me much. Finally at a gathering I just asked Mousefoot right there if he’d help me. Him and Burdockpelt of Duskclan took turns mentoring me and helping Honeyclan while I learned.” A light gray gib, Fernstorm, spoke up. They recounted the story fondly. “It’s really not such a burden.”

“You’ve got quite a bit of knowledge already though. You ask complicated questions and know a lot of herbal uses.” Darkfold pointed out. “How have you been getting that training?”

It felt like a spot light was on her and she felt a little flustered.

“Well… Wolfstar actually knows a lot about herbs and how to gather them. She used to take me as a kit to help gather moss and she’d point out which plant was useful.”

“Yeah Wolfstar was always a good learner, she was great at remembering the warrior code and stories Ashenstep told.” Burnpaw chimed in, at first he seemed bright, talking about the past. “I’m not surprised she managed to learn a few clerical things before leaving…”

He seemed to dim now, hesitating as his sentence dropped off awkwardly, Shadowpaw huffed a little laugh at him, smirking into his bowl. Lynxpaw nudged him.

“Well I also had visions from Starclan cats.” Lynxpaw admitted, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence.

This got some attention, most cats in the circle pausing their meals.

“How so?” Fernstorm asked.

“Well it doesn’t happen as often now that I’m older, but when I was a kit I would see starry cats a lot. Especially while Wolfstar was hunting or patrolling. They’d show me which herbs were which that Wolfstar had gathered. And they’d teach me about different illnesses and how to treat them.”

“Remarkable.” Mousefoot smiled again, she felt a little relieved. “Kits are truly so connected to our ancestors, it’s wonderful they were able to help you.”

“Well I see them maybe once a moon now and it’s very briefly, so I feel like my training has stalled.”

“Well I can spare some time each quarter moon to fill in the gaps for you if you’d like.” Mousefoot offered. “We’ve got two clerics besides me and an apprentice, so I won’t be missed.”

“And I or Rosedrift can visit twice a moon for lessons as well.” Fernstorm added.

“That’s amazing! Thank you it would greatly help!” Lynxpaw purred.

The two clerics glanced at Darkfold.

“My apologies, but unfortunately I won’t be able to contribute.” Darkfold said politely. “I’m the only full cleric in the clan and I don’t travel long distances well. This is the first gathering I’ve been to in moons.”

“I understand completely,” Lynxpaw blinked fondly at her, the only acknowledgment Darkfold gave was a tail twitch. “I appreciate all the help you’ve given already.”

Fernstorm and Mousefoot agreed to a schedule with Lynxpaw as the conversation drifted to new topics. Once finished she settled into a relaxed flop and pressed against her clan mate. After a while Shadowpaw nudged her and they began to stretch to leave.

As they did a conversation caught her attention.

“So I hear you’re about to get a second apprentice? What’s the hurry?” Fernstorm asked Darkfold.

“Well Burnpaw is nearing the end of his education and the clan is large so it’ll be wise to have as many clerics trained as we can. Right now I’m borrowing warriors and gardeners to help gather herbs. I might even consider snagging a code keeper apprentice that I think would do well as a cleric. But we’ll see.”

“The evening was wonderful but I think it’s time for us to leave.” Lynxpaw announced, bowing her head in thanks. Shadowpaw walked over to his sister, they spoke in low voices before he gave her a head bump.

“Yeah you’d better go relieve that poor leader of yours from Nurse duty!” One elder joked.

“She’ll lose a life for each kit I’m telling ya.” Another laughed.

The crowd’s playful jeers faded as they left the clearing. Entering the swift river, the chill barely felt due to their thick coats, they let the current carry them home.

She missed the gathering, the first gathering as a true clan. Lynxpaw and Shadowpaw had to go alone.

Alone. Wolfstar wanted to wail, but her barely together throat wouldn’t let her.

She glowered in the dark, angry at herself and her wound. They’d left just before sunfall, making an early meal for Snowspeckle and herself.

The night dragged slowly, she kept herself entertained by slowly inching herself to the den entrance. Her upper body still protested the strain, any tug to her neck made her clench and twitch. Slowly she gathered her legs under herself, shakily she managed to take a few steps.

The walk, though agonizing, was actually great at relieving her mind. Forced to focus on each individual limb and her balance. The flares of pain occupying her mind, but she was determined.

She wanted to see the stars.

When the camp clearing finally opened up to her, she nearly cried. It’d been so long since she’d left the den. Lynxpaw, a young cleric with no mentor, was playing it safe with her recovery. Too safe. She needed the pain and activity, she needed to work towards something. If not, she was just wasting away.

The clearing was quiet, as expected, and the moon was at its peak. It had taken her nearly half the night just to walk out of the den. The sight was lovely though, the tide pools glowing in the full moon light, everything lit up some beautifully.

She settled into a loaf, such a mundane position caused her to put strain on her chest and abdomen. It was a bruising, but satisfying stretch, like how it felt after combat training or a long journey. When it became too much, she lowered her chin to the ground, resting her chest but now stretching the back of her neck and shoulders. She switched between the two poses, even stretching a paw out one at a time to get a new sensation.

Eventually her injury and exhaustion caught up with her and she began to doze. It was hard given that the poppy seeds she was given at meal time seemed to be fading now. She was tempted to just grab herself another dose, letting herself enjoy the buzzing comfort, but she wasn’t a cleric and had no business touching Lynxpaw’s work.

The moon dropped down low in the sky, not long now until the sun rises. Fear settled in her stomach like a stone.

Were they ok? Did the clans believe them? Or did they slaughter them? She shivered with distaste, it couldn’t be true, but where were they.

Tiny mewls drew her attention away from her worries. The nursery was just on the other side of the leader’s den, her den. Snowspeckle had moved there when she’d recovered from birthing the small litter. It wasn’t a surprise given how she’d basically set up the nursery to be one giant numbest for herself, pelts and fur everywhere. She’d even gotten Lynxpaw to bring her a blanket from Capri’s, the plush, softer than fur fabric had only cost a paw full of salt and a promise to bring the kits to see her when they were old enough.

Focusing completely on the mewls and soft singing, Wolfstar was almost asleep when Lynxpaw and Shadowpaw finally returned home. She jolted awake as Lynxpaw checked her over, worried about why she was out of her nest, let alone the den in such weather.

Wolfstar shivered as she noticed the chill for the first time, it didn’t help both cats hovering around her were still wet from their swim. She sneered a little as water dripped on her.

Slowly she managed to stand, pushing away overly helpful paws, and slowly made her way back to her nest. Shadowpaw stayed outside, checking the camp for any changes in his absence.

“What happened?” Her voice was creaky and she really wished she had some honey, but she spoke anyways.

Lynxpaw fussed over her as she sleepily retold the events of the night. Changing her moss and bringing her cool tea with herbal honey on the side. Wolfstar eyed the jar of poppy seeds, but Lynxpaw quickly moved it out of the way, giving her a bundle of herbs instead.

Wolfstar listened closely as the apprentice spoke, her worry ebbed away to joy as the story went on. She finished her tea and herbs just as Lynxpaw finished her recount, the two of them settling in to share a nest- typical.

“Sorry I left you here for so long.” Lynxpaw frowned, her nose buried in the fresh moss. “The after gathering was so much fun and I was learning so much… I didn’t wanna leave. I should’ve been back sooner.”

Wolfstar’s chuckle was a bit smoother now, she let it rumble in her chest just like her brother’s would.

“Don’t regret it. ‘m glad you had fun.” She purred.

“Oh… I almost forgot. I met Burnpaw.”

“Hmmm?” Wolfstar wasnt sure how she felt hearing his name, his indecisiveness and lack of faith in her still rubbed her the wrong way. But she remembered how truly nice it was to be around him as apprentices, someone quiet and agreeable.

“He said that he knew you were injured.”

A spike of cold shot through her heart, but Lynxpaw soothed her with a few licks to her face.

“He didn’t tell anyone. But he asked me to tell you that he wants to talk. Whenever you feel better. He said he’ll be waiting for you at the abandoned nest. He said he’d be there every evening, at sunset.” She whispered hurriedly, glancing at the entrance.

Wolfstar stayed quiet, mulling over her next move. In the stillness Lynxpaw began to fidget. The older cat shot her a sharp look.

“I… I didn’t tell Shadowpaw about this.” She admitted, looking so guilty for such a meager offense. “And I don’t think we should… tell Shadowpaw.”

Wolfstar cocked her head, eyes neutral, waiting for her to continue.

“I love Shadowpaw I do… it’s just I don’t think he’d let you leave. Like obviously you’re the leader so he can’t really stop you, but I feel like it’d cause a big fight.” She mumbled, worrying her lip. “He’s very protective of us, especially you.”

The way she said it made Wolfstar feel flush, it was true but she caught off guard by how Lynxpaw worded it. The younger cat continued on, not even noticing.

“You could tell him afterwards. He’d be annoyed but he’d be fine with it.” She sighed, Wolfstar smiled and gave her a few reassuring licks. The movement used to cause pain to flare up in her neck, but now it was just a slight stretch. “I feel bad saying this…”

“Let me think.” She murmured into her friend’s soft fur. “Don’t worry.”

Over the next several days, Wolfstar pushed Burnpaw to the back of her mind, only mulling his words over when it was late at night. Most of her time was spent working on regaining her mobility, stretching and low bouts of exercise throughout the day. Shadowpaw and Lynxpaw protested at first, trying to keep her in her nest longer, but she put her foot down.

Snowspeckle, ever the good natured cat, cheered and sang for her from the sidelines. Her kits mewled and crawled around as she stretched in front of their mother. Though the chill was unpleasant, on calmer days she paddled in the shallow waters, just deep enough that she could barely touch the sandy bottom.

Of course Shadowpaw supervised this particular exercise, either swimming along side her or watching from a tall rock closer to shore, ready to dive in to save her.

His attention made her feel guilty.

She was training so hard, not to get back to her duties, but to be able to visit Burnpaw. She wanted to know what he was going to say, what did he want? Their last meeting had gone poorly, he didn’t believe in her or Saltclan and why should he? But if he didn’t believe in them, why bother her at all. His vision, she realized recently, had come true. A wolf struck down with a red collar around its neck surrounded by shadows, it was about her first death and Shadowpaw joining the clan.

Maybe he was gonna rub it in her face, it was so unlike him, but she’d been gone a long time. Who knows what he was like anymore.

Her legs started to burn so she paddled closer to shore, ready for a break. Shadowpaw met her halfway to the shore, letting her lean against him for a moment as she shook her coat out. The pair walked back to camp together, it was late in the day and Snowspeckle would need someone to watch her kits while she cooked. Tonight was the night she finally announced their names and everyone was excited.

Rather than cook, Shadowpaw took over kit sitting, which he was actually very good at. Their eyes had opened up earlier today so their crawling had gotten more purposeful. Shadowpaw let them clamber over him as he sat quietly in the nursery’s entrance.

Wolfstar helped Snowspeckle finish the stew and roasted mackerel she’d been preparing. She was slathering the fish with a gravy, marinade thing she’d learned in Oakclan. Finally once everyone was gathered and the dishes were sat out, the clan began eating.

The group remained close to the nursery to watch the kits, two little toms, snoozing in their nest as the sun set. Everyone eyed Snowspeckle during the meal, anxious for her announcement.

The white molly played coy, of course, and kept eating and chatting like normal. Once everyone had eaten their fill, she plucked each kit to place the in from of the clan.

“I thought very hard about their names ever since I gave birth.” She started. “In oakclan I know I would’ve named them something else, Blackkit and Whitekit. Simple names that could become more when they become warriors. But now that I’m here, having the first litter of Saltclan, I don’t want simple. I don’t want names that would blend in with the other clans.”

She paused and broke out into a big teary smile.

“I want their names to make every single cat know where they come from. Even if they leave the clan, even if they pass before becoming warriors. I want these names to be special.”

She paused again to pull the white tom forward.

“This is Ripplekit, he was born first and as such his name is based on the ripples in water you see when there’s a change.” She gave the whiny kit a lick, then pulled her other kit forward.

“This is Otterkit, I named him after the water loving creatures that I was told about as a kit. It’s not as deep of a name, but I always liked those stories and I think he would too.” As she finished speaking she looked up at the group, eyes misty, and waited.

Wolfstar stepped forward a wide smile as she began chant.

“Ripplekit! Otterkit!”

The others joined in.

“Ripplekit! Otterkit!”

It was almost half a moon after the gathering when Wolfstar saw Burnpaw again.

She finally felt strong enough, both for the journey and to defend herself in case it was a trap. Something Shadowpaw had brought up when she told him.

She’d decided against not telling him or Snowspeckle about the meeting. Both had made good points against it, especially the large tom, but she wasn’t swayed.

No matter what, she needed to know what he was going to say.

The night she set out she gave everyone firm instructions, do not follow her. Lynxpaw was in charge and would spend the time preparing herbs, Shadowpaw was to help her. If he disobeyed, Lynxpaw was to run ahead and warn her so she could send Burnpaw off without a confrontation.

She arrived just at sunset, scenting the air for that familiar pine scent Duskclan cats tended to have. Up ahead she found him, pacing between the tree lines, behind him was a dark silhouette.

Wolfstar froze and almost bolted, she was sure that was Jaggedstar on the fallen tree. But a heartbeat later she realized, it was Ashenstep.

Her sibling didn’t greet her, didn’t look back as Burnpaw exclaimed as she came into the clearing. Just an ear twitch let her know they were listening.

“You came!” Burnpaw smiled, awkwardly shuffling his paws. His eyes caught sight of her scar. “That looks bad, does it hurt?”

Yes it did, but she wasn’t telling him that.

“No,” She dismissed. And it was mostly true, as long as she did her stretches and ate her herbs, she was fine, she wasn’t even taking poppy seeds anymore. “Why did you ask to meet me?”

“I wanted to know if you were ok.”

“That’s not why,” She scoffed, flicking her tail. “Why are we here? Why is Ashenstep here?”

The cat in question finally glanced over at her, eyes sullen and red. They’d been crying.

“They cover for me when I come here, it’s less suspicious.” Burnpaw said. “At this point though I think half the clan knows what we’re doing. No one’s said anything yet.”

“They probably wish we just disappeared.” Ashenstep said dryly, a quick huff of a laugh was the only sign they were joking… mostly.

“I’m here because…” Burnpaw paused glancing nervously around. “I want to leave Duskclan.”

That was a shock, despite the clan’s harsh culture, most cats didn’t want to leave. Even Wolfstar still missed the rigid structure some days. She took a moment to think before replying.

“Did you have a vision?”

“That’s the thing…. I’ve never gotten vision before… I’m not good at cleric work.” He shuffled his paws again, eyes downcast.

“What about you dream about a wolf and a red collar?” Wolfstar asked.

“That was Darkfold’s dream, she has me pretend to get signs so Jaggedstar would think my training is going well.”

“She’s been covering for him,” Ashenstep interjected. “Ever since the fire.”

“So she never had a sign that you should be a cleric?” Wolfstar asked, incredulous.

“No, she said that because she was worried I’d be exiled for my mistake. She thought I would learn, but I’m not getting better, I make the same mistakes, I’ve never gotten a sign from Starclan. They don’t even speak to me when I’m at the moon spring, except for last moon.” Burnpaw explained. “It’s becoming so obvious I’m not fit for this role, it’s jeopardizing Darkfold’s reputation.”

“What did Starclan show you?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Footsteps leading to sand… I figured it meant that… you know I should join Saltclan.” He trailed off, glancing nervously at her face as he spoke. “I can’t keep dragging down the only people that help me.”

He stared at Ashenstep now, their back still turned, staring off at the sunset.

“And what makes you think we’d take you?” Wolfstar felt a sick twist in her stomach saying that, his distraught face giving her a bit of satisfaction.

“But I-“

“Take him.” Ashenstep said with a level a finality that rivaled their mother’s. “If anyone finds out him and Darkfold have been faking signs, he could be exiled and so could Darkfold. You know she wouldn’t survive as a loner.”

Wolfstar sat in the uncomfortable silence, regretting her callousness, despite their recent disagreement she knew she couldn’t turn Burnpaw away.

“Meet me at the border after the next gathering.” She said. “You’ll need to inform Jaggedstar of your decision, you’re not running away, we’re gonna do this the right way.”

Burnpaw gasped aloud, nearly collapsing with relief and tears in his eyes. Wolfstar continued on, ignoring his outburst. He curled his tail around himself as he wiped his eyes.

“Tell her about your dream, you don’t need to confess to everything.” She sighed, glancing at her sibling again, hoping they’d speak up again. “Ashenstep?”

The older cat slowly turned and jumped down from their perch on the log. They gave her a cheerless smile, eyes misty in the low light. They sat a few tail lengths across from her.

“I’ll miss you.” They said.

“You could come with me.”

“No I can’t leave my clan, they need me.”

There was a long silence, the wind picking up and rustling the nearly bare branches surrounding them.

“I understand.” She finally said, bowing her head.

“From now on, when we meet, it’ll be as rival clans.”

“I know. I’ll still love you, but I’ll have to put my clan first. You’re always welcome.” Her head stayed bowed as she spoke, the world around them fading as the weight of their words sink in.

Ashenstep finally broke, surging forward to wrap their sister in a hug, tears silently falling as they embraced her.

“You don’t know how proud I am of you.”

They stayed like that until night fully arrived, chilly winds cutting through their thick coats. Burnpaw sat quietly further away, tired eyes watching the stars. Finally parting, Wolfstar squared her shoulders and left, not looking back.

Moon 0

#clangen #warrior cats #wc #saltclan #saltclan moon update #moon 7

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the-trinket-witch · 8 months ago

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And with that: our Airborne Afternoon comes to a close. As the wind dies down, and the stars mingle with the lights of the city, We hope to you all that your time in Altus was fun and fanciful.

And to celebrate: Have some cake and merriment during Albert's Broomquet Birthday!

Summon: Come in, come in! There's plenty of room around, and if necessary, up on the ceiling as well.

(Set) Home: Everything fits, and the hat is enchanted to not fall off. Don't think I'll ever get over a nice flowing outfit.

Home (Idle 1): I don't do it for the outcome, but it is nice to know the thought I put into others' gifts sometimes comes around when they pick something out for me. Home (Idle 2): Everyone's come out to the party; I probably should have done more to clean... Home (Login): Yes, I know we share a dorm, Prefect, but It's still nice to have you come.

Home Tap 1: Let's see...Orange Crocuses, Marigolds, Orange and white daisies, poppies, yellow lilies and...coreopsis? Home Tap 2: Ortho says I'm one of the more experienced fliers in school. Is that why he asked to race me later? Home Tap 3: Jade and Azul said they had something planned later tonight. I wonder what they have in store? Home Tap 4: Don't tell Grim, but that box in the fridge is a slice of tropical cake from the town bakery. Why do you think I insist everyone have as much of the regular cake as possible? Home Tap 5: I need to get more beverages; no, no I can get it. That's what the broom is for, no?

GROOVY: You said just 'hold it like my umbrella, and drop off the side'? If you say it'll make a 'cool' shot...

Duo Magic: Albert: Hold on tight~! Grim: Fnyah! OK but I better get the last slice of cake for this!

Interview:

Question 1: If you could go anywhere with flight magic, where would you want to go?

"There's so many things to consider with any destination, I'd almost rather see where the wind takes me."

Question 2: When was a time you were glad you could use magic?

"I'm...er -cough- rather glad to have a spell to dry off quickly. You know how easy it is to get drenched in places like Octavinelle~"

Question 3: What do you do in your downtime?

"I pick up shifts at the Monstro Lounge, get a headstart on assigned reading, work more on cleaning Pentergeist. I'd like it to be spick and span by the time I'd like to have it re-open during the Cultural Festival."

TAGLIST:

@ceruleancattail @squidwen @thecosmicjackalope @vaporvipermedia@writing-heiress

@oya-oya-okay @k-looking-glass-house @thehollowwriter @rainesol @cyn-write

@heartscrypt @honey-milk-depresso @br3adtoasty @jackiecronefield @ruggiethethuggie

@hoboyherewego @achy-boo @oreoskys @oseathepebble @oathofoaks

@tunabesimpin @hamstergal @fumikomiyasaki@valse-a-mille-temps

@hallowed-delights @kimikitti @plutos-hell @thetwstwildcard @atwstedstory

@comingyourlugubriousness @ice-cweam-sod4 @twst-the-night-away @nammanarin @scint1llat3

#Trinket's Rattlin' Bones #twisted wonderland #twst oc #albert eastwind #trinket's rattling bones #broomquet #twst birthday

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pascalispretty · 9 months ago

Text

history stopped in 1936

Javi G x F!Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Angst, Spanish Civil War AU, war and its horrors, brief and vague descriptions of sex, it's implied that Javi and reader are speaking Spanish the entire time, references to drinking and smoking, unbeta'd so please be gentle!

Summary: The Spanish Civil War threatens the slice of paradise you and Javi have found together. (AO3)

A/N: Hoo boy. This was written for @studioghibelli's writing challenge, and the moment I saw the moodboard, I knew I wanted to do something Atonement-inspired. You don't need to know who the opposing sides were in the war, but if you'd like to learn more, I'd recommend George Orwell's "Homage to Catalonia". The title comes from an essay of his. As always my love to @misscharlielulu for her support.

Mallorca, August 1936

Spain burns and, across the Balearic Sea, rumours are carried like ash on the wind.

You and Javier had fled Barcelona in the middle of the night, just after St Jordi’s Day. The streets had still been littered with rose petals as you had made your way to the docks, and the waiting ship. The atmosphere in Barcelona had grown tense, shimmering with electricity like the air just before a thunderstorm.

In July, your fears had been vindicated when news trickled across the sea, whispers of a violent uprising. Nobody could say for certain who had seized power – the anarchists, the communists, the Carlists, or some as-yet-unknown political spectre.

By contrast to the news reports that trickled over from the mainland, Mallorca felt safe. The ocean separating the island from the peninsula made the war feel further away, something that was happening in another world. Even when Barcelona fell or when, days later, Franco invaded with his African army in Seville - it all felt so far away, separated by miles of sparkling blue water.

On your island sanctuary, you and Javi managed to find a measure of happiness. Reminders of the war were never far away, and you were all probably smoking and drinking too much, but it didn’t matter. You could still watch movies on the projection reel he’d bought before he met you. Tucked up against Javi’s side, watching Clark Gable or Errol Flynn, you could forget the war on the mainland entirely.

It was only when the war came to Mallorca that you realised how deluded you had been.

With censored newspapers and downed radio communications, rumours run like wildfire across the island. Days after Seville falls, the stableboys hear that the Republicans have landed on the east coast – the housekeeper tells Marta that it’s Russians sent by Stalin, and the man who delivers the mail insists its Italians. There’s fighting in the streets of Palma and to the ports in the east, but nobody can agree on who exactly is fighting who.

You clean up after breakfast, a hastily made pa amb tomàquet that masks the staleness of the bread. Even for a family as rich as the Gutierrez’s, you cannot waste food anymore.

They say the fighting is in Palma, and Porto Cristo. Drawn onto a map, the Gutierrez villa would form the apex of the triangle; it’s about as far away from the fighting as you can get while still being on dry land. You try to breathe. It’s just another Tuesday morning. You’re breaking leftover breadcrusts into a bowl for the dogs when Javi appears.

“Leave that, my love. Come out into the garden with me?” He asks, wrapping a large hand around your wrist. You don’t need much convincing; you wipe your hands down on a towel and twine your fingers with your husband’s as you walk out across the patio to the greenery beyond.

The gardens are a riot of colour. In the hazy, golden light of summer, the colours seem almost over-saturated. It’s a world away from the dark, medieval splendour of Barcelona. Foxgloves and red poppies and bright marigolds fill the carefully planned beds around the pond, a riot of Technicolour hues that somehow work beautifully in concert.

In the sunlight, Javi’s curls look gilded; he glows, in spite of the anxiety furrowing his brow. A stone bench sits beneath a gazebo, and he leads you over there. The wooden structure is heavy with jasmine; the smell perfumes the air, blending with the salt of the nearby sea.

“Is something wrong, Javi? Is it Marta?” You ask, worry colouring your voice. Javi’s mother, Marta, was a complicated woman. She had loathed Lucas, her nephew by marriage, but had been unable to get out of bed for days when news had reached her that he had been taken into Montjuïc Castle as a prisoner. Even across the ocean, you had come to know that nobody came out of Montjuïc alive.

Javi shakes his head, his hand cupping your elbow as he guides you to sit down on the bench beside him. Even now, it’s unlike him to look so morose.

“I’ve been talking to my father.” This much you already knew. One of the stableboys had come to fetch Javi in the middle of breakfast: his father had requested his son ride out with him. Whatever they discussed, it’s knocked your husband’s relentless optimism, and that worries you more than anything.

You hold Javi’s hands and wait patiently for him to tell you what’s bothering him, but he seems unable to find the words. Your mind careers from calamity to disaster in his silence. Someone somewhere has issued a warrant for Javi’s arrest. The army is on the move and will reach the cliffs by nightfall. His father, Jordi, has had another heart attack.

“My father- that is, my father and I-” Javier starts. You squeeze his fingers, your heart beating a rapid tattoo in your rising panic.

“Please, Javi, just tell me,” you plead. He looks out over the cliffs and his shoulders slump resignedly.

“My father thinks you should leave.” A punch to the gut could not have winded you more. You sit there, blinking at him like an idiot, unable to understand what he just said.

“My father thinks you need to leave, and I do too.” He turns away from the ocean, cupping your face in his hand and forcing you to look into your eyes. “You need to leave Mallorca, leave Spain. Tonight if possible.”

“You want to send me away?” You manage, sounding rather more pathetic than you’d hoped. Javi shakes his head, his lovely brown eyes full of sorrow.

“I want you to be safe. And it’s not safe here, not for you.”

“It’s no more dangerous for me than-”

“It is more dangerous for you. The worst thing they do to men is shoot them.” The unspoken implication hangs unpleasantly in the air. Javi sighs and glances back towards the house. “My father thinks he can persuade my mother to leave.” You want to scream. You want to ask who made Jordi such an authority, who made him king of his own tiny dominion and gave him the power to dismiss you.

In your gut, you know Javier’s father is right. He’s been weathering the storms of Spanish politics since before you were born, a wily fox of a man who had declared months ago that the political powderkeg was about to explode.

“I won’t leave you,” you insist, your voice firmer now. Jordi might be right; an army will come here someday. But you’d rather face them than abandon your family. “Until death do us part, Javi.”

“Please, sweetheart. It would only be for a little while. The war can’t last forever.” He manages a smile; a soft, crooked grin that wants to make you give in. You’d do so much to make him smile again.

“Your father will never get Marta to leave. She won’t leave him, and you won’t leave them.” The half-smile falls from Javi’s face.

“They’re old, sweetheart. I need to take care of them. But you – you’re strong. I know you can do this. You’ll go somewhere safe, and as soon as we’ve weathered this storm, you’ll come back.” Both of his hands are cupping your face now. Somewhere overhead, seagulls are screaming. His optimism makes you want to scream too.

“No, Javi, no, I can’t-” you start again, clutching his wrists in your hands.

“You can, you must,” he talks over you. In frustration you pull away, marching over the grass towards the house. One of Marta’s cats yowls at you as you pass it, pleading for attention, but you’re too upset to pay it any mind. Javi is hot on your heels, by turns pleading and stern. The door to your bedroom bangs against the wall as you fling it open.

You want space, but Javi won’t give it to you. He’s in your face, his hands roaming over you, clutching at your shoulders, your arms, your wrists. His rosy view of the world had been charming when you’d first met – now it makes you angry beyond words.

“I’m not leaving you,” you insist sharply, bringing your hands up to push your husband away from you. His hands circle your wrists instead, refusing to let you escape. “I’m not leaving you!” You repeat it in English, in your broken Catalan, in French. You tell him over and over in as many languages as you know, all the while struggling to break free of his hold.

The kiss takes you by surprise. He keeps one hand at your wrists; the other cups the back of your head. There’s no elegance to the kiss. He presses his mouth to yours, full lips meeting your own, your breath mingling with his. You’d almost think he’d done it deliberately to throw you off balance, if not for the surprised little intake of breath he makes.

“You are leaving tonight,” he says, once he’s broken the kiss. His fingertips grip the nape of your neck, your foreheads press together. You try to shake your head against his, but his hand at your neck grips tighter. “If I have to throw you into the boat myself, you’re leaving tonight.”

“I’ll hate you forever if you do.” It’s a childish assertion. His soft brown eyes fill with quiet devastation, and you immediately want to take it back.

“I’d rather have you hate me and survive than love me and die.” The two of you grapple again; him trying to keep his hold on you as you try to escape his grip. You have no real notion of why you want to break free – you could hardly hide in a cabinet until he gave up and allowed you to stay.

When the two of you tumble back onto the bed, it is an accident. You had tried to kick out with your legs, but had only succeeded in knocking you both off balance. His arms wrap around you as you lie on top of him, doing your best to squirm free and failing miserably.

You and Javi rarely argue. Any petty squabbles you do have are usually easily and quickly resolved. And when you do fight, you’ve gotten used to burning out that tension with sex.

So it feels like the most natural thing in the world to start pulling his shirtfront open. He takes your cue, his hands falling from your wrists and setting to work on the buttons of your dress. There’s a frantic energy to you both; for all you had been fighting him before, you can’t pull him close enough now. Your hands itch with the need to touch him, to memorise every inch and curve of him before he sends you away.

You sink your fingers into his curls and drag him down closer. It’s not making love, not the soft, slow sex that you and Javi usually have. This is something harsher, more demanding. The bedframe rattles with the force of your movements, and you know you should be embarrassed. The servants or Javi’s parents could hear, your actions unmistakable when the noise of the bed combines with the moans escaping from you both.

When you’ve both come, and are lying satiated in each other’s arms, the fire has gone out of your conversation. Javi rests his head on your breasts, humming contentedly as you play with his curls. You admire the Monet painting that faces the bed, the hazy floral landscape that you wish for all the world you and your husband could escape into. The canvas lilies almost seem to sway in the breeze with the haze of heat rising through the room.

“What if you forget me?” You say softly. As much as you know Javi loves you, you can’t deny that the thought scares you. That you will leave, but after long years of war, Javi will have moved on. He’ll find some pretty Mallorquin girl that never went into exile and never come to rescue you from your banishment.

“I could never forget you,” Javi says, tilting his head back to look at you. Those beautiful eyes of his are so full of sorrow that you want to cry yourself.

“You say that. What if this war lasts as long as the Great War? Longer?”

“It doesn’t matter. ‘If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, I could walk in my garden forever’,” he says in English.

“Byron?” You ask, and he shakes his head. Of course he would quote poetry at a time like this.

“Tennyson. It’s true. I could fill the whole island with flowers, all the thinking of you I shall do while we’re parted.” Javi’s hands rest on your thighs, his thumbs stroking lazy circles onto your skin.

“Wouldn’t that be something to behold. A whole island, full of flowers. You could live four lifetimes and never run out of scenery to paint.”

“I would write to you every day, you know,” Javier manages eventually. You know he would. Javi has always had an excellent turn of phrase – there were half-drafted screenplay ideas all over your apartment in Barcelona.

“And one letter in twenty might reach me,” you retort. The postal service hasn’t exactly been running efficiently of late, never mind the inevitable censorship everything seems to be going through.

“I would keep you here with me if there was any way I could be sure you’d be safe.” He says gently, and you sigh. “And I would like you to go willingly. But you’re going either way, I’m afraid.” Even issuing orders, there’s undeniable tenderness to it.

“Between the both of us, we might fill all of Europe with flowers.” You try to imagine it; two paths of flowers creeping across the continent, growing every time you and Javi think of one another.

“The whole world, even.” Javier clutches a little tighter at your thighs, and you can hear tears thickening his voice. You hold each other tighter, and you know now that neither of you will loosen your grip until the very last moment.

****

Later, there will be a forget-me-not pressed into your hand as you and Javi say your final goodbyes at the dock. Your clothes are weighted down by the money and jewellery sewn into the hems, but it’s the flower you treasure the most. You refuse to cry as you sail away; you stare insistently at the dock, long after Javier has faded from your sight. You know he’ll be doing the same, standing on the pier and keeping a watchful eye on the horizon until the sky starts to lighten with the dawn.

Later, in spite of your denials, there will be letters. Javi writes to you often, mostly of trivial, household matters that won’t be censored. In every one he tells you how the gardens are growing. In every one, there is a flower drawn into the margin. You hoard them like a dragon hoards gold; when your homesickness makes you feel physically ill, you surround yourself with his letters and tracing the lines of his pen.

Later, there will be a screenplay. It’s smuggled off the island and brought directly to you by a man who only speaks brusque Catalan, and you nearly weep just to hear the language spoken again. The screenplay bears a pseudonym – Javier Peña – but every line is clearly your Javi’s work. It tells of a great love story flourishing in the face of a brutal war, of love conquering all. You cry over the last twenty pages, a handkerchief clasped to your face so you don’t smudge the ink.

Later, the war will end. Spain will survive, though she will not be saved. You will never walk through a garden of flowers without thinking of Javi.

****

“But what really happened? The answer is simple: the lovers survive and flourish.” – Ian McEwan, Atonement

TAGLIST:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @its-nebuleuse @totallynotastanacc

#studioghibelliswritingchallenge #javi g x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi g #javi gutierrez #the unbearable weight of massive talent

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