#Mourning Wood

[bisexual-horror-fan]

BEX!!! Congratulations on hitting 3000! That's fan-FUCKING-tastic...and very much well-deserved.

Now, I'm not here to send you a request, because I'm sure you've already received quite a few by now...but I'd like to take the chance to lovingly (and lustfully) remind you and the fandom of something left...unfinished...something we've talked about recently...a continuation of your sinfully short fic, 'Three Against One'...

'Multi-May' or no 'Multi-May'...this foursome needs to happen...at some point...

I can wait...you know I *adore* anticipation...

Hello Kelly! Day three of Multi-May which means that we have a re-vision of my old fic, Three Against One! Thank you for the excuse to do this, I wanted to do the same thing with Lessons In Faking It because this is gonna get a sequel and finally get that foursome we have all been craving. Plus I have always wanted to expand this, I added 1.5K to the OG and cleaned and changed this up, hope you all dig this updated version and get hyped for the later entry! Also, the council in The Boiler Lounge has made the decision that Sam Wescott and Buddy Swanson and Leslie Vernon’s polyam ship is called Mourning Wood. Enjoy that and this fic. 

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 4.5K. Sam Wescott And Buddy Swanson AND Leslie Vernon X AFAB! Reader. They/Them Pronouns. Warnings: Established Relationship. Vacation. Road Trip. Semi-Public To Public Hookups. Exhibitionism. Movie Spoilers. Some Fluff. Strap On Mention. Teasing. Dirty Talk. Buddy Is An Asshole But We Love Him. Threesome. Voyeurism. Outdoor Sex. Stalking. Threat Of Violence. Implied Foursome.

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Three Against One. Again.

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It was going to be your birthday soon.

Your two boyfriends wanted to do something special for that, they asked what you wanted and upon discussing it you all realised you had some paid vacation time that needed to be spent before the year was up or you would lose it. You thought long and hard about it and came to the conclusion of partaking in a road trip together. You have always had a thing for the macabre and spooky, I mean look at who you were dating, when the secrets about them came out it didn’t scare you off, no, you stuck around happily.

So the purpose of said road trip was to visit a bunch of supposedly haunted locations and do some urban exploring and camping. Buddy was of course very excited about the prospect of this, he hadn’t really done a road trip with anyone else, he did one once, technically, when fleeing Canada post the events of Centre Stage but obviously that one wasn’t very fun. Clutching his barely bandaged wounds with one hand while he drove with the other, leaking blood badly as he drove a stolen car away in desperation of escaping his old life wasn’t a good time. 

After he got patched up properly in a gas station bathroom, wrapping hastily bought gauze around his ribs and stomach under flickering lights, he was back in the car. He made the long drive to accept that fateful job at Camp Clear Vista where he met you and Sam wasn’t great either, it was lonely. Even if it did end up leading to the best summer of his life.

He and Camillia always talked about doing a road trip together, seeing some of the other provinces before settling down and opening that restaurant they always talked about. Taking a roadtrip with you and Sam sounded amazing and long overdue, he could hardly wait.

Sam would normally be just as excited, he took a road trip with Chuck once to visit a creepy wax museum she heard about and that was a good time, but that was different. Seeing something that is so obviously fake and an attraction, a controlled and safe environment but what you wanted to do was see some more “real” stuff, it made him nervous. The rest sounded great, long hours in the car, talking and listening to music, trying new food, camping out together, he just wasn’t that excited about the decidedly scary nature you wanted everything to take.

He tried to hide this. He did so poorly.

Sam Wescott was good at a lot of things, chopping wood, taking care of kids, starting a fire, hiding his emotions was not chief among them. His nerves were the most noticeable when you were all packing up the car, he had already agreed, you all took the time off, were gearing up to leave and he was chewing his bottom lip nervously, clearly lost in thought.

Buddy used this as a perfect opportunity to come up behind him, throw an arm around his shoulder, hooking around him, opposite hand resting on his chest as he leaned in close, “Awe Sammy baby, you look tense, what’s up?” Classic Buddy, the way he cooed that so easily and teasingly to Sam.

Sam turned his head, caught Buddy’s gaze, “Oh uh, sorry Buddy, just um…Thinking is all.” You rolled your eyes as you finally closed the trunk, coming over to Buddy and Sam as you say, “You are always thinking Sam, thinking way too much.”

“I agree, you gotta turn that brain off sometimes! It’s gonna be a great time man, relax.” Buddy’s hands rested on Sam’s shoulder next, giving a reassuring squeeze, and you backed him up, “Seriously, it is gonna be awesome. Calm down.” 

You had slid right in front of him, you were holding Sam’s hands as you looked up at him and he let out a sigh, conceding.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. Sorry, I know it’s gonna be a lotta fun.” Buddy pressed a kiss to his cheek and said, “Atta boy! Now come on, let’s hit the road, you got the first driving shift.”

And so off you all went and as soon as you were an hour into the trip Sam was wondering what he was so worried about. This was great, you next to him and Buddy in the back, alternating playing some of your music and talking, it felt good, felt right and relaxing, very needed, time away from all the bullshit stress of normal life and just being with his two favourite people.

“No, no, I am vetoing this-” Buddy argued as he held up the CD case of the disc you were trying to load into the player of the car’s dash, you ask, “What? You only get one veto a day and you are using it now? On fucking ABBA?” 

Buddy shoved the case into your hand and sat back saying, “Yes I am vetoing ABBA, we are not listening to Super Trooper before ten in the morning.” 

Sam couldn’t stop the smile that crossed his face, looking over to the pair of you playfully bickering about what CD to listen to in place of the one Buddy smacked down. Yeah, this was going to be a good trip.

You of course felt the same way. It was all great and you had a fun time on your first few stops, Sam even giving it up that it wasn’t bad doing it with you both. He still insisted on holding one of your hands while you wandered around some burnt out building but you and Buddy didn’t mind, and only handed out minimal teasing for it too.

The stopping at different restaurants Buddy had picked out while planning your route was thoroughly enjoyable for all of you, his pre-trip research paid off and you all ate at some great hole in the wall joints. 

Staying in the occasional motel when the weather was bad enough that setting up camp for the night wasn’t feasible did end up happening a few times. The first time you checked into one a few days into the trip, Buddy dropped his duffle bag by the door, whipped off his rain soaked windbreaker, tossing it aside and then leaping at the bed and before you or Sam could question his enthusiasm it became all too clear. Leaning on one hand and the other rested on his hip he asked, in an intentionally comical pose, “What do you think? Is the bed big enough that you could both fuck me at the same time comfortably?” 

You dropped your own bag as Sam scoffs, “I doubt it, look at you man! You’re what, like 6’3?”

Buddy cuts in, “6’2 actually-” 

“Right, I’m worried about you being able to sleep comfortably on the thing, forget getting fucked.” You interject asking, “And how are we supposed to do that, exactly?”

Buddy gasped, “No! Don’t tell me you forgot the strap-on!” You and Sam were already cracking up as he carried on, somehow still able to joke like this after hours in the car, “Oh my God, well, the vacation is called off.” He rolled off the bed and headed for the bathroom before you or Sam had even caught your breath.

Once clean and settled down you were cuddled up in a bed just a bit too small for three, all tangled limbs and being impossibly close was cosy. The many other nights spent in the tent together, all having employed that trick Sam learned for zipping multiple sleeping bags together to make one big enough for three, were Sam’s favourites. 

Not to mention all of the illicit hooking up. In that tent you and Sam and Buddy caught up, mid-make-out, one of his hands between your legs and with Buddy’s between Sam’s, feverish passing back and forth and hands all busy.

In or rather on the car, you bent over the hood with Buddy behind you and Sam watching, his own hand busy while you are all under the stars. 

In alleyways next to bars or restaurants you just paid patronage to, and one really risky one in the handicap stall of a bathroom in a diner, you nearly got caught and after the person left without detecting you, the rest of said hookup finished safely back in your tent at the camp you set up.

Exploring and hiking was fun, you were all safe and doing it together, some of the locations you wanted to scope out were really cool and you brought along your camera, got some great pictures. Sam confessed while you were all at the highest point of a trail you’d just walked, looking down at the picturesque woods, that this was the best vacation he ever had and was glad you and Buddy pushed him to do this. He was happy, nerves totally forgotten.

Until the day of your actual birthday. The big stop this had been leading up to, you wanted to stop in Glen Echo and check out the Vernon farm. Initially Sam was excited about it, a farm, how nice and quaint, you even mentioned there was an apple orchard, apple picking sounded awesome. 

You all pulled up and you seemed so giddy, you practically bolted from the car.

He didn’t realise why you were so excited about it until you all started walking around and you began enthusiastically explaining the history of the farm and about who used to live here. Big gestures of your hands as you went and explained about Leslie and the documentary and everything.

You walked about the grounds, rattling off what you knew, taking stops along the way to expound further, “And he would fuck with the branches of the trees so if anyone made an attempt to get down from the second floor they would break-” Buddy would, “Ooo-” appropriately and Sam’s face would lose a little more colour.

The walk continued, you giving as much detail as possible and Buddy nodded along, still smiling, clearly loving how passionate and happy you were to be here, even chiming in on what he thought was particularly interesting and cool.

Sam got more and more nervous as you all walked around. Funny thing considering his own past but that wasn’t him, not REALLY, it was the Wood Carver’s mask who possessed him, under normal circumstances he would never do what happened back then.

You finally were all standing in front of the burnt remains of the cider house, “And then Tayor apparently crushed his head with the cider press and set the whole building ablaze!”

Buddy was impressed, saying in response, “Damn. See the more you talk about this Taylor the more I like her, she sounds really tough.” 

“Right?! She’s the coolest!” You exclaimed and Buddy looked over to the third and much more quiet one in your group.

Buddy nudged you, your head turning as Sam chimed in asking, “So Leslie is dead, right?”

You and Buddy stared at him for a moment, his eyes forward, nervous look clear on his face, surely his mind going a mile a minute, and then you and Buddy shared a look of your own, a small smirk from you, a raise of his eyebrows and you are on the same page. You say, “Well that is what they SAY but his body went missing.”

Buddy put on an air of faux concern as he said, clearly playing it up, hands coming up to his face, “Oh no, his body went missing?!”

You stifled a giggle and leaned closer into Sam who was going just a little pale, “Never recovered it to this day. We think we are alone here but who knows!”

That is when Buddy asked excitedly, “So you wanna camp here tonight, yeah? Spend the night?” You agreed immediately and enthusiastically, arms out stretched, “Oh yeah of course!”

Sam glanced at you, eyes wide, “You really want to? You sure you don’t wanna maybe stay at that B and B we saw on the way into town?”

“Very sure Sam.” You confirmed with a confident nod and Buddy was saying then, more playfully, clapping your shared boyfriend on the shoulder, “C’mon Sam it’s their birthday and they wanna stay at the creepy murder farm.”

“Yeah Sam! I wanna stay at the creepy murder farm!” You agree and he sighs heavily.

“Sorry I am not that enthusiastic about spending the night where several people were killed-” Buddy cocked his head to the side as he fired back with, “And yet we keep on returning to Camp Clear Vista every year.”

Sam had to give him that. He knew there was no winning against Buddy’s stubbornness along with your birthday wish so he agreed, tone a mix of frustration and resignation, “Alright, we should unpack and set up camp before it gets dark.”

“Hell yes! Thank you Sammy.” You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips and Buddy parroted what you said, smiling as his hand came up and ruffled Sam’s short hair in the way he knew bugged him, “Yeah thanks Sammy!”

Sam swatted Buddy away but he was smiling now, clearly fond. 

So the rest of the afternoon was dedicated to setting up the camp.

You chose a place in between the barn and the apple orchard, you dug the fire pit, Buddy put up the tent, and Sam, taking a fallen tree he had found, managed to split some of it up to make some logs for you all to sit on around the fire as well as using it for some actual fire wood. It was nice but Sam still seemed nervous, kept looking like something was off, even with the axe in his hands. You and Buddy did your best to distract him but it didn’t seem to be working very well. 

Hours later, it was after dinner, the fire was going and it was dark out.

You and Buddy had run to the car to get a bag of marshmallows to roast for dessert and on the way back to the fire you spoke up, “We gotta get Sam to chill out.”

Buddy sighed “God, right? He is going full Wescott right now.” You laugh but smack him on the shoulder, “Okay well don’t say that to him, you know he hates when you say that shit.”

“Well maybe if he didn’t go Wescott so often then we wouldn’t have had to attach his name to it-” You give him an unimpressed look, “Hilarious Buddy, truly, but c’mon, we need to help the guy out not make this worse.”

He groans and you sing-song out, “It’s my birthday-”

“I’m just messing around, you’re right, we should help not hurt, I will be nice.”  He concedes, both hands up and you say, “Thank you cream puff.” 

He gags and then says, “Oh my fucking God, what was that about being nice and not doing things your boys hate?”

“Ha, I said not doing things Sam hates, and what, you don’t like my pet names?” You ask and he says, “They are just soooo overly cutesy and sickeningly sweet-”

“Come on Buddy bon-bon baby, lighten up.” You tease and he stops walking, “I will vomit, right here.”

“No you won’t, not after you worked so hard on that dinner.” You say and he hangs his head before starting to walk again, “You’re right again, stop being right all the time.”

“Nope, it’s my birthday, I’m allowed.” You assert and then ask, “So how are we fixing this for him?”

Buddy hums, head coming up and after a moment he grins, looking over to you, “Overwhelm him?”

“Oh I love how you think.”

Your goal is to get him out of his head and relax, let him enjoy the evening as much as you had both been. The approach is easy, made sure he could hear you coming, didn’t want to frighten him further and you sat down next to him and he was quick to say, “I swear to God I heard something just now.”

Buddy sat on the other side of him, too close, pressing Sam between you and him as he said, “Uh yeah man, probably us.”

Sam scoffed, “No not you two, when you were outta earshot I could have sworn I heard someone, out there-” He gestured out the orchard and you shrugged, “Probably an animal or something. Don’t worry about it.”

That is when you made your move, leaning in, one hand to Sam’s cheek, pulling him closer and your mouth meeting his neck, you beginning to kiss makes his sentence stop short while Buddy’s hand sliding up his inner thigh made his breath catch already and you said into his skin, “What did we tell you Sam?”

A lick over his pulse point and a soft bite that made him tense under your touch and he stuttered out, “I’ll uh, be honest. I can-can’t really remember at the moment-”

You are busy with your task but you can picture his expression right now, brows furrowed, eyes closed and lips parted, totally swept up and thoroughly him and adorable, it makes you smile against his throat.

Buddy was there backing you up the way you usually did for him, “That you need to relax. Turn off that brain-” Buddy’s hand was between Sam’s legs now, palming his already hardening dick through his shorts as he added on, “-we can help you with that.”

It did sound appealing. He still had nerves and reservations but as you and Buddy both worked him over, hands roaming and wandering, tugging at his clothing, you kissing and biting his neck and Buddy’s fingers under Sam’s chin tilting him to give him a lazy and slow kiss on the mouth, definite heat behind it? Sam slowly started to let go, moaning into the kiss and returning it.

You and Buddy should have heeded Sam’s warnings, should have listened. Sam’s nervousness has validity to it, you weren’t alone and hadn’t been all day, he was right there, watching you. He was taking his time, he was used to the occasional gawkers and you three seemed harmless so he hadn’t done anything yet.

He thought you were all rather bold setting up camp for the night, he had every intention of stepping in and having some fun of his own but he didn’t expect such a show. The three of you had been really close and touchy sure but he didn’t think it was like this, that you were all together. He was interested. Honestly your timing couldn’t have been better, he was going to make his move right before you made yours and now he couldn’t stop watching.

Leslie had a thing for watching, a definite and total textbook voyeur, couldn’t help how hard he got off on it. You had already caught his eye earlier, so now seeing you making a move to get on your knees, starting to undo the shorts to get what you really wanted, about to start putting your mouth to good use, of course he wanted to stay quiet and see how this unfolded.

He watched as that curly haired man, Buddy, he overheard, was pulling back, one hand in the other man, Sam’s, hair as he started to whisper what he was certain were filthy things in his ear. 

Leslie watched the way Sam flushed, lifting his hips to help you slide his shorts down, he couldn’t look away as you took his cock in your hand, leaning in, giving what looked to be a loving lick over the head before it disappeared between your lips. You started to take more, slide him in deeper, your hand around the base starting to stroke and he could hear the groan Sam let out, watched as Buddy’s head tilted back with a laugh. 

You didn’t blow him for long before Buddy was whispering something to Sam, a grin on his face and finally that pulls his gaze from you between his legs to the other man sitting next to him, a nod, and the look of near awe and affection overtakes when he drops to his knees at your side to join in. Fuck, you and he shared him and that was something else. So they weren’t just sharing you, no, it seems like you all share each other. 

The view was so good that Leslie couldn’t help palming himself through his overalls, couldn’t help coming closer, wanted to get a better look, hear some of what you were all saying. You were all distracted. He was able to manage it even more easily than normal.

By the time he was close enough, you had your fingers in Buddy’s curls, pushing him down so he was swallowing more of Sam’s cock and you said, “God, can’t he take it just so well? Almost puts me to shame.” 

Sam lets out this delicious sounding moan, a small nod, still just mesmerised by the view in front of him. Gasping out, “So-so good.” 

He rocked his hips up once and looked so lost in the feeling of it. He looked overwhelmed, Leslie wondered if what he said next was because he was sweet, concerned and selfless or trying to stave off cumming too fast with two talented mouths working over him. “We should be focusing on you, it’s your birthday right?”

“The man has a point.” You agree and Buddy was pulling off Sam’s dick with a wet pop and a nod, “He is right, we should be focusing on you.”

And just like that the attention was turned to you.

The speed is impressive, the way they worked together on you still had a way of taking you by surprise. They shared you exceptionally well and after so long were able to move together with you with total ease. You were pulled into Sam’s lap, he was kissing you and had his hands up your shirt in short order and Buddy was pressed behind you, his hands working on getting into your pants and you looked really damn good in that moment. 

Your eyes falling closed, pressing closer to one and then the other, allowing yourself to bask in their attention, letting yourself to freely express how they made you feel, soft moans and gasping breaths, calling out their respective names in utter reverence as they pleasured you. Sam’s tongue in your mouth, Buddy had a hand in your shorts and was obviously fingering you, whispering more filth into your ears. Sam had only paused making out with you to get your shirt and bra off, tossing them aside, his hands and mouth working in tandem on your newly exposed chest. Hands cup, thumbs brush over your nipples in between indulgent sucks. This live show has Leslie’s overalls feeling far too tight. 

Buddy is speaking up louder, Leslie is treated to this exchange, “Fuck, Sam, can you hear how wet they are?” 

Sam pulls back, a breathy laugh, “I sure can, how you feeling?” He asks and you nod, “Mm, good, real good, ha-harder?”

“Yeah I can do that for you.” Buddy’s arm picks up the pace, your hips buck and you moan much louder, crying out a thank you and Sam’s mouth is latched back onto you.

You were squirming and moaning, grinding yourself between them and it looked like it was going to keep escalating, Leslie is convinced that you would be getting fucked out in the open by the both of them at once and fuck, it was too much.

Leslie moved quietly and carefully, and came around the fire so slowly, sickle at the ready. When he was right behind Buddy he moved forward. Sickle slices through the air, metal came down and lodged in the wood log Sam was seated on, it made the three of you jump, a frantic look and as soon as your eyes fell to him you said, “Leslie?”

Of course you recognized him. He was leaning against the handle of his sickle still stuck in the wood, stance was very casual as he said, “Hey. Hear you are a big fan. How are you enjoying your stay?”

To say you were taken aback was an understatement. Total shock, not sure what to respond with, Leslie would be lying if he said he didn’t find that at least a little bit cute, how much he got the drop on you. “Well?” 

He prompted and you swallowed, Sam’s hands were covering your tits now, shielding you before you were saying, “Uh good? Real, uhm, real good.”

“Yeah I was gonna say, looks like you are all having a really good time.” He leaned down, his face much closer to yours, his eyes were interesting, full of something you wished you could define but can’t, maybe you were too shocked, his smile is however undeniably mischievous. Leslie speaks again, “So much fun I wanted to give you an offer.”

“An offer?” Buddy inquired, confused, clearly his own mind reeling and trying to contend with all this, and Leslie continued, “Yeah. See I was going to have a good time with you three tonight until you started doing all of this-”

He ripped his sickle up, you all jump and he laughs, he gestures to you with his weapon of choice, still half dressed in Sam’s lap, the three of you still pressed pretty closely together, “-but I gotta say that you all present a much better option, one that doesn’t come around here often.”

You picked up what he was putting down immediately. A phrase you had seen once before clear in your mind, fuck to survive. 

The thing is you would have been down even without the potential threat of violence, although considering your choice in partners, the threat helps rather than hurts. Leslie is playing with the sickle, fingering the end of it as he is looking you all over, clearly enjoying the dynamic at hand, the power he holds in this moment, the potential of the night spread before you all. “Besides, I think it is awfully gauche to kill someone on their birthday, right?”

Gauche or not all you could think was how you were about to get simultaneously wrecked and spoiled all at once. Happy fucking birthday to you. A verbal response wasn’t what you have, what you did do was reach out, fingers caught in the torn collar of his shirt and you pulled him forward and down, giving your consent with your mouth in a different but entirely welcome fashion.

Sam was wrong, it was gonna be a good night, you could tell.

[weirdratwrites]

MLP OC:

Name: Mourning Wood

Nick(s): Wood, Woodsy, Spooks

Species: Unicorn

Gender/Sexuality: Cis Male Pansexual

Cutie Mark: A Gnarled staff intersected by two bones in a 'x' shape. A whisp of green magic wraps down and around the whole of it, emanating from the staff's head.

Specialty: Necromancy: Spirit-Calling

Personality: Professional, Compassionate, Good-Humored.

Mourning Wood is a lanky, white unicorn with a long, brownish-yellow mane. He is the current High Necromancer of the Crown. The comedic aspects of his name don't escape him.

Explanation of Necromancy in Equestria under the cut, since I don't want him to come off as edgy. Part of it is likewise headcanon regarding general lore, or outright AU if something therein goes directly against canon.

General structure of above text inspired by @howler-the-rainwing.

My headcanon on necromancy in Equestria is largely influenced by an Anon Fic and it's response: Dear Princess Sunbutt, and To: Anon, From HRH Sunbutt. Specifically, the chapters where Anon is reacting to Pinkie summoning a demon to help her bake something, and Celestia explaining that, while heavily regulated, the act is legal so long as the person is properly licensed (as Pinkie is, in that fic).

That said: Necromancy is no more evil than any other form of magic in Equestria. It was much more commonly - and openly - practiced before Luna's Rebellion.

The current state of the profession is the result of dogmatic nobles taking advantage of Celestia's multi-decade grieving period following her sister's banishment to "rid the world" of one of the Traitor's favored school of magic. Necromancy is one of the most highly regulated forms of magic in Equestria, and the title of Necromancer is exceedingly rare as a result of the sheer amount of bureaucracy involved to attaining it.

High Necromancer of the Crown is a largely ceremonial title that was created by Celestia in conjunction with a number of still-active Necromancers at the time she came out of mourning to circumvent these edicts. She couldn't undermine the nobility so openly at the time of her return, and it wound up being good enough of a system that she honestly forgets about it for decades at a time between High Necromancers coming into their role.

Basically, there's only ever one officially recognized Necromancer at a time: The High Necromancer of the Crown, themself. To be recognized as a Necromancer, due to those edicts, one must be fully accredited in all three "Schools" of Necromancy: Flesh-Weaving, Bones-Singing, and Spirit-Calling.

High Necromancer of the Crown is the full, official title. Only a select few outside of the secret society built around this position are allowed to not use it in full. This is one of the more direct ways of fucking with the nobility that neutered the business of Necromancy, by making them say and acknowledge the favor this position traditionally has over them in the eyes of Celestia repeatedly in each conversation.

Anyone not accredited in all three is free of the bureaucracy associated with the profession. However, a lack of Necromancers would mean that the resources necessary for these fields to be taught would disappear due to a "lack of interest", so one needs to be active at all times.

The Schools themselves are used in a number of useful professions (especially those associated with healing the body and mind):

Flesh-Weaving is used to mend wounds, perform surgeries, and put corpses into presentable condition in the case of a truly traumatic death. The "traditional" view of this school, in popular media, would be in reanimating the dead and creating horrors like Frankenstein's Monster.

Bone-Singing is used to mend broken bones and is part of lessons in golemancy, as used in certain mines and quarries whose conditions are too dangerous for ponies to mine themselves. The traditional view of this school, in popular media, would be in reanimating the long-dead, such as skeletons.

Spirit-Calling is used to help with mental illnesses, grief counselling, and in cleansing places of high spiritual activity or helping the long-departed in moving on to the afterlife. The traditional view of this school, in popular media, would be in calling ghosts to do one's bidding.

Across Equestria, under-accredited non-Necromancers serve as healers, priests, detectives, and coroners. These are the foot soldiers of the Crown, doing their ancient duties in an unseen and un-appreciated manner.

Instances do occur where someone among their number is either incapable of doing their duty or simply not present to do so. In those instances, the High Necromancer of the Crown will travel to undertake their official tasks themself. This is incredibly rare.

In the meantime, the High Necromancer of the Crown has traditionally taken on a more common job between such tasks. High Necromancer Mourning Wood acts as a grief counsellor, High Necromancer High Spirit was - and still is - a pediatric surgeon, and High Necromancer Marked Progress was a detective for Manehatten's Police Force.

High Necromancer Mourning Wood is actually an interesting case, as he wasn't read in on the details, and accidentally provided High Necromancer High Spirit with an early retirement from her position. She ceded the title at the age of 45, rather than the traditional range of 85-90. She still maintains contact with Mourning Wood to help him handle the details of his new job.

[metalshockfinland]

MOURNING WOOD Present 'Gone At Last' Music Video

Rising Finnish outfit MOURNING WOOD emerges from the shadows with the original music video for their track “Gone At Last.” The track is featured on Mourning Wood’s debut EP, “Fill Your Grave,” out now via Wormholedeath Records. Mourning Wood injects their signature dark humor into the mix, creating a cathartic anthem perfect for those seeking to rise from the ashes of their past with a…

[oneluckygoose]

I think the most heartbreaking part if this season (excluding Lucy) is the Rat Grinders being a pale, cold reflection of the Bad Kids. Like the Bad Kids have these wonderfully sweet moments of being together. That’s fundamentally what makes them The Bad Kids. They went through the shittyiest things in the world together and now they love each other so so so much and we get all of these sweet and tender moments of them loving each other. And the Rat Grinders are them with all that love stripped away, they don’t care about one another, they haven’t been through the same things, the only reason they are a party is because they are tactically useful together, not because they love one another. And when their Kristen dies they do nothing but replace her rather than mourn. Can you even imagine what the Bad Kids would do if Kristen died? And She Did. And they Freaked and kept her bones to figure out a way to Bring Her Back. They mourned and ran into the forest of their greatest nightmares after looking at each other and with all the love in the world saying “for Kristen.” The Bad Kids care about each other more than anything in the world, if they didn’t even the world wouldn’t be there. The Rat Grinders are a mirror showing them what it would be like if they didn’t, if they only fought for themselves and their own personal means. If they had let Kristen stay in the forest, only a pile of bones as the Rat Grinders did with Lucy. Maybe they aren’t evil, or the bbg, but they are an icy wake up call for the Bad Kids of what they could have been. A horrible version of what they could have been.

[kyrogroscoliosisperum-alty]

For the Susan lovers out there, bon appetit (btw the bottom right pic is a 3D model by dexterous animation on twt, real cool stuff on their page)

[ghost-bxrd]

Headcanons for hurt Fae!Dick Grayson?

What can hurt Dick? How does the family react when he is hurt, and they are possibly clueless how to help him or if he would be okay?

How does the manor and surroundings react when Dick is hurt, especially if he is badly hurt enough to be unaware what is happening? Or if it is one of the family's fault (unintentionally) that he got hurt?

Ksksks I totally expected this ask to come in at one point or another.

Alright, so with other creatures it’s kind of tricky.

The traditional fae can be hurt by iron, and while this particular version of fae!dick certainly doesn’t like it (at all) it’s more of a… strong allergic reaction than anything. And only if he’s exposed to it long enough.

What can truly hurt an other… well, that depends on the individual. On what they’re tied to, and what feeds their existence.

Some of the other beings live in the shadows, hiding.

For instance, my family used to tell a sort of story where a kind creature would wait for us at the very top of our house, and when it saw us coming home it would make sure it was safe for us to enter and then turn on the light if it was. If it wasn’t, the house would remain dark. Obviously I wanted to catch a glimpse of that “creature”, but stopped immediately when I was told that if I laid eyes on it, the creature would vanish forever.

So this particular other was dependent on remaining “unseen” to keep existing. Another kind would depend on having stories keep being told about them. Yet another creature would need to keep consuming a certain food to stay alive.

I headcanon that Fae!Dick would irrevocably tie himself to Wayne Manor, the surrounding lands, and its occupants to keep himself alive. Which in return makes him very powerful! But also very vulnerable.

He would quite literally feel family members getting hurt, depending on the severity of the injury. His connection to the manor and the lands would mean that any kind of environmental poisoning or damage going on inside the boundaries of his “domain” would directly affect Dick, ranging from mild discomfort to a sort of “withering”.

If what happens was severe enough to cause Dick to become temporarily unaware of his surroundings then nature would react accordingly. If he’s outside manor grounds during this instance, then it would be mostly animals responding to his pain and attacking anybody in close vicinity he isn’t tied to. (Animals with very strange and discordant features)

If he’s inside manor grounds… the entire place becomes ground zero for “magical” activity. Nobody would be able to get in or out. Any kind of “demolishing” going on would be stopped by some very angry plants and animals.

… unless the damage to the lands is too great. In that case Dick wouldn’t be able to do much, and everything that is/was dependent on his magic to grow would quickly atrophy. :(

The family probably wouldn’t really know how to properly deal with it the first time it happens. Obviously there’s the physical repercussions of Dick’s injury they’d have to deal, which usually has roots in something else so treating it wouldn’t be like treating the flu or a paper cut. They’d have to find whatever is wrong with the land (or one of the family) to help Dick.

Of course there’s also the possibility of an other creature hurting Dick. Or a very lucky criminal manages to land a hit (maybe even with an iron bullet). In that case Dick would be looking at a much longer recovery period than a regular human.

Fae!Dick is very difficult to injure, but he’s also very slow to heal.

[kulapti]

Under the Beautyberry, Aug 2024, ink (brush & fountain pen).

Species from the understory of the oak forests interspersed on the east edge of the North American great plains, here is a Bobcat (Lynx rufus) capturing a Mourning Dove (Zenaida macroura), and plants that provide food for the dove and others like it. Plant species shown, clockwise from the top: American beautyberry (Callicarpa americana), Coralberry (Symphoricarpos orbiculatus), Little barley (Hordeum pusillum), Sideoats grama (Bouteloua curtipendula), and Canada wild rye (Elymus canadense). I hope one day I am able to learn some of the indigenous names for the plants I have begun to know.

[roninreverie]

Mt. Kamui - The Sad Ending

Not knowing if these two are okay yet after the final war arc is giving me emotional damage, can't you tell? (Please be okay 🙏)

Bonus Scribbles:

[tumbochka-does-art]

hello tumblr nation i come bearing gifts

Scar doubles the lethality of the company

[whateyesaw]

What I Saw in an Irish Forest:

Jan 2024 - Fujifilm X-T30 - Kodak Gold Film Simulation

[bisexual-horror-fan]

So after much discussion we have decided that polyam ship name for Sam Wescott and Buddy Swanson AND Leslie Vernon is Mourning Wood. Thank you for your time.

[shower-racoon]

imagine if the Terraria bosses were on tumblr. what would they even post

[metalshockfinland]

MOURNING WOOD Sign with Wormholedeath, Debut EP "Fill Your Grave" Out August 2nd

Get ready for a fresh wave of Finnish metal fury! Rising act MOURNING WOOD has inked a deal with Wormholedeath Records to release their debut EP, “Fill Your Grave,” set to be unleashed on August 2nd, 2024. Mourning Wood boasts a seasoned lineup with a combined arsenal of musical knowledge spanning vocational studies to university degrees. Their experience translates to a tight and polished…

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

do you think during the time skip from acotar to acomaf, tamlin avoided the sound of things snapping like the plague because they remind him of feyre’s death

[silvaris]

Mourning dove by Lana Soboleva

[emblazons]

praying to god almighty that this apartment I fucking adore does not get taken before I get paid and can make the deposit for it next Tuesday