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dahliaes · 23 days

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sea of magnolias - chapter two "dragonflies"

cw; no plot ofc, slice of life, melancholy, references to mother nature, jean is now here and he is a SWEETIE!!!! pure fluff, 3k words because im so slow, i wanna be 17 and live in the sea, yearning/longing, pieck and porco are idiots in love

hi again!! this story is very touching to me and i can't stop expanding despite how little the word count is lol i hope you all enjoy this little slice of life south carolina story bc i love it!!

chapter one

Marshes, white beaches, blue crabs. They didn’t wake you up. Neither did the small puddle of drool in the basin of your collarbone or the breeze bleeding in from the open window. That’s ocean breath.

You come apart, your cold limbs tangled up in hers and your eyes open like blooming flowers; if you could just sleep for a bit longer…Sleep like the pale mermaids you see rotting in the marsh, where the sea swallows their spine and soft skin; God puts her face down and her carrion melts unto the moon drenched nectar. If you could sleep…

You shiver beneath the cool quilt and feel Pieck beside you, your sweaty skin slides off hers with no traction—just like how the algae in the marsh slips beneath your feet.

Sometimes you and Pieck would cuddle in her twin sized mattress, hide beneath her big pink comforter, and trace each other's scars like constellations. A botfly infested her bottom lip and Porco cut it out with his pocket knife. She bled like a peach and smiled at you with blood stained teeth. You were shirtless playing cowboys and Indians with no distinction whether you were a boy or a girl, tripped and skinned your knee on the blistering pavement. Mama poured rubbing alcohol over your skin and promised that it wouldn’t hurt but that didn’t stop you from crying. You’ve got another one where no one can touch.

And sometimes you’d wake up with sunlight bleeding in through her window, the kind of sunlight you only saw when you were seven years old and small enough to be carried by your Mama; chalk on your hands and knees covered in bruises, no one had hurt you yet and never would if she was there to protect you, right?

“Pieck?” You whisper, hoping she hears you above the whispers of the marsh. They’re always saying something to you. You drifted to sleep like drifting to the sea and it’s still dark out, even darker than before, and you hear noise coming from the kitchen over the marsh valleys somber sounds. She’s saying something to you. “I think Pock’s home.”

“Mhmph,” She mumbles beneath the blankets and rubs her tired eyes, “He doesn’t live here.”

You’ll have to go home soon. Home right on the marsh water and rotting wood, home where it smells like the feather of a blue heron and where you’ve got all your pretty sundresses hanging up like American flags—the kind that makes boys unable to control themselves around you and God turn his gaze back to the sunset; Pock will drive you home. But it feels so nice to cuddle with her. Her skin is hot but cool when you touch your cheek to her spine, each little bump is another phase of the moon and you remember how she was the only girl at your sixteenth birthday.

You hum at the buzzing of Porco; Pieck, will you make me the happiest man on earth? Will you give me a son? And you hear his deep voice, heavy with beer and honey, mumbling something indistinct and gruff, something you don’t bother listening to.

“He must’ve brought another one of his fuckin’ friends over,” Pieck stretches her feet from beneath the blanket and cracks her back like a glow stick, “My daddy’s gonna kill him. I promise you that.”

Pieck slips away, waddling like an angel to the warm light of the kitchen lantern—that's how the fireflies get burned—and you hear her mumble to Pock about how he shouldn’t be using the key under the mat whenever he feels like a beer with his buddy… Jean?

Not blondie Reiner, not the olive boy Connie with the shark tooth necklace—he said he dug them out himself—not the younger one Colt or the dark scary boy Jaeger with dead eyes.

Jean. A new flower.

The moons out, you can feel her flowers growing and her spotlight shining down through Pieck’s open window. With that breeze, with that coolness of the evening, with that sleepy nectar that always keeps you safe. Midnight blue faded around you. You could almost touch it.

You shuffle beneath the quilt, rubbing your eyes full of bugs and lashes, and hear Pock crack open a Bud Light; he’s gonna crack his teeth one of these days. And you crawl out from the blanket to follow Pieck, just like you always did as a baby with your little blue jeans rolled up to your knees, always wanting to be right by her. This time it's a peach sundress and hardwood floors. You float to the kitchen light like a moth to a flame.

It’s Pock stumbling drunk and swinging his arm over her shoulders, kissing her sloppy and dancing around the kitchen with his babies in his arms. It’s Pieck hiding her face in his chest, hiding her red cheeks and blooming smile where no one but his heart can see and it’s—

He’s six feet tall, as tall as the moon, and maybe he could get it for you if you ask real nice—he’s leaning out the open window, looking up at the deep dark sea of the sky, the moon like a pearl and his tan skin like the shore. Blue jeans and a red ball cap; oh, you wanna touch your heart and find the seashells hidden inside, put them up to your ear, and have them whisper to you that he’s a flower. A lily? A dahlia? The ones hidden beneath your bed with true souls and soft eyes…

And he turns around and you see his face. Now you know what flower he is.

Oh, he’s so pretty.

You lock eyes for a moment and you swear his face softened; in oil paint taken right from the moon and sea, he was made from honey. He looks at you like a little boy, as if he weren’t a man, but something soft and slack jawed that wouldn’t hurt you or the frail little birds with broken wings you like to nurture; his baseball cap and light scruff. He gently smiles at you and you swear boys like him aren’t from here.

He sips his beer and runs a hand through his hair. You touch the flowerbed between your breasts and wonder if you’re ever getting home.

“Go away,” Pieck shoves him, but he takes her down with him, “You’re an animal.”

“You know you love me, baby.” Porco slurs, “S’why you’ve got my baby in you. S’why we’re gettin’ married,'' He pulls her into his arms, his wet mouth bleeding with beer kisses the top of her head and rubs her belly, eyes lidded like bumblebees—you stand there watching them fool around, listening to the gulls and the nic-sea-breeze fray the curtains, letting the blue moon drift in pass Jean. He must like it. He’s watching you, a gentle smile that makes him look humble, then the open window, then the mosquitos buzzing around his sun kissed skin. Oh, he’s so tan. Oh, he’s so tall.

He doesn’t look like one of the boys from here. Even though he’s tan and strong, he looks tender.

He reminds you of those shy cowboys, the ones with hearts aglow and eyes full of stars, waiting to be met with either a bottle of whiskey or the Big Dipper up in the sky; your cool naked skin by the campfire and his big old calloused hands shining orange, red, and blue as he holds you close…

But you look at him again and he isn’t a cowboy. Cowboys can’t ride in the marsh. He’s just soft and pretty and taller than the moon. He’s only seventeen.

Maybe he’ll play cowboys and Indians with you.

Porco pouts at Pieck when she pinches his cheeks. You hope she shuts him up before he starts singing that song and makin’ up his own lyrics, before he starts trying to fight everything in sight. But you also hope Jean isn’t as quiet as you.

“You girlies shouldn’t be left alone,” Porco kisses her nose and you know he’s piss drunk, he must’ve robbed a liquor store like his daddy used to. That’s what put him in jail. “Y’all’dve called me n’ Jeanboy. Promise we’da keep ya safe and all.”

Jeanboy. Oh, Jeanboy, say something. You can’t help but watch him standin’ there, silent and tall with big shoulders meant for climbing on; something so intangible, something so indistinct and sweet about him. You hear Mother Nature humming everytime he looks up and looks away, shy like a scared little fawn in the body of a big strong elk. That’s not how boys act. You swear she’s rubbing peach blood all over his cheeks. He’s blushing.

“Yeah, you’re real cute, Pock.”

Then you watch him lean down to her and whisper something that he shouldn’t have, something that makes her wanna die.

“Will you shut up?” Pieck squeals, sick of all the sweet words he’s been whispering beneath his breath. She pushes him away and he comes stumbling drunk over to you.

“Miss Baby,” You’re sick of that nickname, “Haven’t seen you around here lately.” Porco pinches your cheek and you slap him away like a mosquito. You wish he’d shut up. He’s always treating you like a little sister and you didn’t want Jean to think you were something not worth kissing. You’re a woman. But Porco wouldn’t understand that.

“Why are you in my face?”

He slings his arm around you a little too rough and you can see Pieck peeking around the corner, making sure her daddy doesn’t hear all the drunken ruckus he’s causing—maybe, like the whispers of June, they just don’t notice anymore. They just get used to it.

“I have a secret to tell ya,” Porco whispers to you and his breath feels like august heat on your cheeks, thick and moist and hot with the stench of Bud Light lingering and floating throughout the air. You can taste how many beers he’s had.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“My buddy Jean over there,” He keeps his voice low, just for you to hear, he snickers and leans down like he’s about to kiss you, “He says you’re pretty.”

You want to scream.

With that cool breeze, Mama’s voice floats right to you and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear; Pieck’s got a willow tree and Her limbs sway in the wind. You remember once how a boy opened your hand and pressed a daffodil on your soft palm. Maybe when Jean was looking out the window he saw seven year old you and wanted to go back to a time before he was a man, before the world had changed him from callow to tough and worn. How long has he been here? Where’s he from? Not here. You woulda known. You woulda recognized him.

But you’re getting ahead of yourself. He didn’t say that, right? You’re wearing a light sundress and he’s wearing dirty old blue jeans with a faded red ball cap. You hope he’s got a truck.

Porco snickers and you aren’t sure what to say. No, he didn’t. He doesn’t even know me. Stop fucking around, Pock. Then you’d push him away and take Pieck’s hand in yours and run to the beaches like you were still kids running away from everything scary and loud; the monsters beneath your bed and the man who left bruises on her frail little arms. But you didn’t want to run to ten years ago. You wanted to run so tall and pretty and shy Jean couldn’t see you anymore. Run right into the sea and crash onto the waves and become a mermaid. Pretty where no one can see, especially not him.

“Leave her alone, you dick.” Pieck pinches his cheeks and he tries to give her a big wet kiss, but you’re looking at Jean with one of his eyes half shut and a little smile peeking up at you—at you?

“What? We’re just havin’ some fun, baby,” Porco laughs and Pieck scoffs and pulls him away from you, the salty sweet stink of Bud Light and cigarettes drifts off with him. As she takes him off to the living room, throws him down on the couch, and covers him up with that quilt, you stare at Jean. He keeps his eyes on the ground and you swear you do too, but…

He swallows and you watch his Adam’s apple bob. What were you supposed to say? Something about how Mother Nature grows forget-me-nots over your Daddy’s grave and how if he were to grab your waist, he’d feel flowers growing between your ribs and healed bruises from that night in October. What were you supposed to say?

How are you supposed to talk to boys?

And Jean opens his mouth like he’s about to say something but—

“He’s sloshed,” Pieck comes from behind you and you want to get down on your knees. “Wanna spend the night? You can sleep in our bed.”

“I can’t,” You whisper, wiping your cheeks so hard the blush comes off, “I’ve got church in the morning. I gotta get home.”

“I can drive ya.”

Just as he said that, the flowers in between your breasts bloomed and you felt something from a few summers ago whisper in your ear.

“Really?” You whisper back, but it wasn’t to him. It was to God.

“’Course,” He mumbles and comes over to you, somehow getting taller with every step, “I’m Jean.”

“Georgia.”

Georgia, you knew your cheeks were like wine. Georgia, your stomachs full of butterflies and you know not to touch those delicate wings, Georgia, he’s so cute. Georgia, you knew he was strong, but small scars cover his warm, whiskey-honey skin and you can’t bring yourself to look right at him and his little smile—despite what manners you’ve been taught. If you stare at an eclipse, you go blind… So as time slows and the heaven-pearly moon fades over top you and him, you look for something. Something boys aren’t meant to have and something only stargazers can find.

Then you see it—just as he smiles and sticks out his hand and says its nice to meet ya—you see it.

“Huh?” You say dumbly, wilting with a crooked awkward smile. Oh, God, you want to die. Pieck giggles at you and pinches your arm with a stupid smile on her face that makes you wanna hiss at her to shut up. C’mon, girl, what’s gotten into you?

“Said it’s nice to meet ya. I think I’ve seen you before on the docks, right? Down by Delphie?” He smiles sweetly and it makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter around the lilacs inside of you. You’re gonna be sick.

He shouldn’t smile at you like that. He shouldn’t look so cute and handsome and humble, like he’s one of those dogs that splash around in the creeks, beg for belly rubs, and wag their tails at every bit of affection they get. He smiles like a dog and you wanna put him down.

“Something like that.” You mumble, looking down at your bare feet and the toes of his boots. Your toenails are long and painted pink with smiley faces looking right up at you. Your face is hot like the sand on a summer afternoon and you can’t wait to get outta here.

“And I can drive ya home, if you want.” He says again, voice light and chipper. God, you wish he’d shut up. Maybe he wants you to jump up on his back and bite his ears and crawl all over him like a bug, he’s strong like a tree trunk and you could infest him if you wanted to. Because, God, you want to.

You blink at him. He blinks back.

“Sorry, Jean, she’s a mute!” Pieck squeals, shaking you by the shoulders, “We can’t ever get her to talk!”

“Shut up.” You whip your head around to see Pieck cackling like a witch and covering her mouth. You wanna push her so hard her baby falls out, but she starts to mouth to you; He is so hot! You swat her like a bug and beg for all this to be over, but you know you want it. You want to be with a boy, just for the night—not to lay beside, not to fuck or kiss, but to just be seen beneath the pale moonlight and have the sharp edge of seventeen pierce right through your heart like Mama said it would. Seventeen, she said, will always mean something to me. That’s when I met your daddy.

This summer wasn’t old enough to have a name, but if you climbed up into Jean’s truck and asked him if he believed in mermaids, maybe you’d name it Georgia.

“Fine.” You turn around to face him and you huff, “You can drive me home.”

Pieck buzzes behind you and you feel the ocean rise throughout your body, you’re scared you’re gonna throw up sea water all over him.

“Alright,” Jean flashes his sweet smile and runs a hand through his hair, “I gotcha.”

He’s got you.

And as you walk out with Jean behind you, Pieck and Porco turn into the no-see-ums that always bite your thighs; God plays a song just for you, just for Jean to hear, and you press two fingers to your heart as he watches. Maybe you’re sunkissed. Maybe you’re bare and naked and long legged with big eyes and there’s a moon you could bite into like an orange, but there he is. Behind you, holding the door open like a gentleman.

He has a seashell tattoo on the belly of his wrist and you promise yourself you’re going to touch it tonight.

#UGH back again!!!!!#sorry the chapters are so short i get nervy #sea of magnolias #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtien #aot x reader #jean kirschstein #aot fanfic #jean kirschtein x you #attack on titan x reader

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thedankestfaerie · 2 months

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rubs my hands together welcome to my TED Talk

Something I think about ALL the time, and something I find really interesting, is that the Dark Faerie Sisters are the only Dark Faeries to have two sets of wings! Most Dark Faeries have the typical gargoyle/bat design when it comes to their wings.

While the other Faeries of various elements have the typical butterfly/dragonfly design. (minus the Water Faeries since they're designed/inspired by mermaids)

So I was thinking. Maybe they were cursed or corrupted? They know The Darkest Faerie and work with her to take over Meridell so did she corrupt them? They are named after negative traits (Malice, Spite and Vanity) so maybe she saw these Faeries and said "hey you wanna be evil? join my squad" or their powers started to negatively effect them and they got cursed because of it. Now here's me reaching and pulling random shit outta thin air, trying to guess what type of Faerie they were before going emo.

Vanity may have been an Air Faerie. My proof? Blue hair highlights and being associated with beauty. Malice was definitely a Fire Faerie, according to the site "They love nothing better than playing tricks and causing havoc wherever they go." Spite was hella hard to decide on. She could have been any element, but comparing her designs to the rest of the faeries, she closely resembles a Light Faerie so that's what I'm going with. She could have been an Air Faerie (like Vanity) but I've been babbling for too long akjshdf

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk

#txt #neopets #long post #I really wish I had the math autism man

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chimeride · 2 years

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Have you ever considered illustrate @shittycryptids? It would be a great collaborative work!

More than once !

Prompts and credits under the cut :

150- A rabbit with frog legs (@queerhermes)

167- A songbird but instead of wings, it has incredibly large humanoid arms (@queerhermes)

171- A unicorn squirrel (@queerhermes)

225- An octopus but at the end of each tentacle is a human foot (@pastalmeme)

259- An angler fish with human toes for teeth. Not very effective, but unsettling. (@orangeleader)

267- A turtle but with a snail house (@crookedmanhands)

285- A mermaid with a lobster tail instead of a standard fish tail (@urbanfantasyinspiration)

290- Half woman, half snail (@rotten-to-the-applecore)

291- An octopus mermaid but with only one tentacle, like a tail (anonymous)

301- A mermaid but with the upper body of a gorilla and the tail of a blue whale (@soulkillingobsession)

311- A baby with a shark head (@thelimeadecat)

331- A cat but instead of paws it has hands (@0nlythedankest0fmemes)

351- An elephant with human ears (@thenapkincaptain)

361- A cat, but with the legs of a great dane, the ears of a zebra, and the tail of a lizard (@jade-mccryptidbitch)

379- Lizard with two legs (@stray-kids-stuff)

386- An amphiptere, but it’s an earthworm with wings made of smaller earthworms. (@overwhelminglyhuman)

397- A green elephant with a platypus bill instead of a trunk, and only two legs. (@major-sesquipedalian)

398- Ostrich with four legs (@shadyturtleparadise)

401- A crow but it has no wings or legs and it’s long (@soybeansaurus)

409- A spider with human sized human hands. When it’s little it has baby hands and they age as it does. When it runs across the floor there’s a vicious slapping sound (@dilact)

485- A mouse but round and with two legs (@collinriddle)

543- A pig with compound eyes (@furbearingbrick)

614- A snake with no head, just two tails (@titaniumblackbird)

679- A hydra with exactly 1,489,392 heads, but each head is the size of a grain of quinoa on a T. Rex- sized body (anonymous)

682- A snail that screams like a chimpanzee. (anonymous)

698- A komodo dragonfly (anonymous)

726- A spider, but instead of hundreds of tiny eyes, it has one, big googly eye. (anonymous)

763- A griffon with the front half of a kiwi and the back half of an echidna. (@cartoon-and-animal-lover)

815- Mer-ant. (@cartoon-and-animal-lover)

#spixundmartius #ask #shittycryptids #compendium #i was just waiting an opportunity to gather them like that :)#i think i already said it but when i started the Éphéméride it was also to do some shittycryptids on the go

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muffinlance · 8 months

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Nixies... exactly how humanoid do you envision them? Because I read "dragonfly nixie" and started to sketch with only a photograph of a dragonfly larvae from my grandpa's pond as reference because no internet connection... and it ended up up as a creature with only vaguely humanoid demeanor lounging on a rock (between me wanting to incorporate at least some anthropomorphised features and wing like draping things it looks more like a cricket to be honest). Second attempt is more humanoid but looks a bit like a hippie fortune-teller with giant sunglasses and a severely swollen face. I get the increasing feeling "dragonfly" didn't refer to the face shape...

I have been picturing them as mermaid-like but with the body transition happening closer to the shoulders. So the wolf-eating nixie was, like, 70% toddler-sized dragonfly nymph transitioning to one last set of human arms (with lovely carapace texturing) topped by a little girl's face draped with wet hair that's half water weeds because combs whomst? and dragonfly eyes. No eyelids. But the most important part is that she is definitely smiling. I'll let you imagine what sort of mouth she is doing so with.

#nixie: crunch munches down to the marrow #Aaron: exits stage left with a reindeer friend #the reindeer friend is always moving slightly faster then him #just in case any predators get any ideas #Aaron can respect that kind of initiative #and absolutely won't teach his reindeer friend the word Hamstrung unless and until it becomes relevant #at which point it's been lovely walking directly behind it #fox's tongue and kirin's bone #sometimes friendship is a mutual pact of Not It

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ladykinrannoch · 1 year

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Reading - An unhappy drunk...

Are we seeing pre-publicity, setting the scene for a permanent return to Britain for the prodigal prince? I just read the Telegraph article by Camilla Tominey and it gave me vibes of trying to ease a way in for the prince everyone loves to hate these day....

Again I used the Illuminati deck to shed some light on what may be going on in the background beyond his return for the coronation, was his trip earlier this month something to with a divorce and under guise of appearing in the Daily Mail case and opportunity to meet with his lawyers? Is the Coronation, the escape route as Camilla terms it.. for Hostage Harry?

Underlying energy:

Ten Wands RX - So when this card comes up, it usually is a warning to the reader that the person you are reading on not receptive to the message of cards and you should wait a few days and try again, however I am reading it as Harry is overwhelmed and stressed, but with it he is stubborn and obstinate, so I don't get that he is the one trying to pave the way for a return at all. If he was to return to the UK permanently, I feel that it is is not willingly.

Who is behind these rumours and trying to pave a way for Harold's return?

The Emperor - This is King Charles, with the 10 wands in RX as the underlying energy, I get the sense that he has very real worry over Harold's situation, health and possible drug abuse.

What would be the reason for Harold's return?

Three Swords - this is commonly the betrayal card in relationships, it can also be a signifier of a broken heart. Perhaps the rumours of trouble in Montecito are true. I have read numerous times on this and I have had the feeling for a long time that the duo do not live together and that they are split and biding their time, or at least she is biding her time to choose the opportune moment. So on the question of a potential divorce, my feeling is that it is much further along than any of us imagine. I once foretold from the cards that it would be suddenly complete a fait accompli before we realised. That it would not be long and protracted. With regards to Harold, I do think he is broken hearted in many ways.

What would a return to UK permanently mean for Harold?

King Wands RX - this is the strict father card. So I think that if he returned it would be under a strict set of rules, possibly a stint of restriction in the form of rehab in. Wands can signify medical interventions. The King of Wands upright is a free spirit, but in reverse the free spirit would be curtailed.

What is beneath Charles motivation for trying to pave a way for Harold's permanent return?

Queen Cups - this to me is Diana energy, I think he feels a responsibility to Diana to try and get Harry back on the straight and narrow. It can also signal a time in which Harry needs care and mothering in order to heal. Each suit in this deck is visually depicting different cultures. Pentacles - The Orient, Swords - Elizabethan England, Wands - Persia and Cups - a fantasy medieval world. So in this depiction of the Queen of Cups, a beautiful fair haired Queen sits enthroned on a throne of stone almost like a headstone with four goddesses carved one at each arm and one at each foot, one of which is a mermaid goddess. She is dressed in icy blue and silver, surrounded by dragonflies and is holding a golden holy grail. So it is almost as If Diana is reaching from beyond the grave.

What is beneath Harry's broken heart?

Nine Cups Rx - this is maximum unhappiness, it is also the card for emotional disconnection and narcissism. The message to Harry in this card is that he needs to stop being egotistical and stubborn as his intent on forging ahead at the expense of his personal and professional relationships has caused and will cause significant damage. Upright it can signal too much drugs and alcohol and can be likened to being in your cups. In the RX it could signal an OD. The sense I am getting from this card is the AA message that it is time to recognise that the alcoholics actions destroy everyone around them and its time to recognise that. The card also says, its time to take time out and recover your energy levels and your spark. As an outcome card, I think they are going to have a tough time convincing Harold what is good for him right now.

Conclusion:

This PR could indeed be trying to pave the way for a return, to create an environment in which Harold is less likely to resist. At the moment he is being stubborn and although is stressed and unhappy, he is like that stubborn drunk that refuses to admit he needs help. So the prospects are not good right now with whatever KC is trying to achieve. An OD may be an outcome for Harry that precipitates medical intervention.

Clarifier:

Would what KC wants to achieve be accomplished in the future?

The World - yes I think KC will succeed in getting him back, possibly getting him into rehab and helping him to heal but it could take another six months. The World signals a successful conclusion.

#royal reading #british royal family #tarot #tarot by ladykinrannoch #harold

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tsukikoayanosuke · 1 year

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Twisted Wonderland Daemon AU (but my brain is not that big), or just Animal Companion AU - Heartslabyul Edition

The Basic Gits: Daemons are the external physical manifestation of a person's 'inner-self' that takes the form of an animal. Usually the daemon will have the opposite gender from their human. During childhood, daemon can change into any animal but when human matured, their daemon settle into a permanent form (you can’t choose the final animal form). When a human die, their daemon will turn to dust. And it’s taboo for a human to touch any daemon except their own.

It has been a long time since I watched/read The Golden Compass, so I might get some points wrong. I technically made this before the whole Yana Toboso interview that said there would be more familiar. And in the discord server I was like “My daemon au is confirm!” XD

This is a personal choices with a help from a friend. This is harder than I thought it would be. Discussion is much welcome. I’ll be only making for the humans. So, no beastman, mermaid, ghost, fae, or any mythical creatures.

Ace Trappola

His daemon name is Penelope. In Greek, the name means ‘weaver’. It is also the name of the hero Odysseus’s faithful wife.

Penelope settled into your regular urban raccoon. Raccoons are known to be a trickster, just like Ace. The culprit who knock down your outdoor trashcan. The black mark around their eyes resemblance of a thief mask, thus they’re often associated to thievery. But this also show their intelligence to be able to steal food without anyone noticing. And with the busy and dangerous city road, a raccoon need to adapt and be resourceful with their surrounding. Thus, they can also represent craftiness, resourcefulness, problem-solving, tenacity, adaptability, and endurance.

I want a raccoon representation in this AU, so I’m giving it to Ace lol.

Deuce Spade

His daemon name is Carwen. It’s the female variant of Carwyn, a Welsh name means “blessed love”.

Carwen settles into a flame skimmer dragonfly. From many colors available, we get an orange one that will compliment Deuce’s blue aesthetic. Dragonflies may represent, growth, transformation, impermanence, ephemerality, or adolescence. Because dragonflies, both as nymphs and as adults, are such prolific hunters, dragonflies may also be connected with acuity, agility, and ferocity. In addition, dragonflies are typically born in the summer, and as we know, it’s the holiday. But can also be the time of nostalgia and connection to the youth.

Right from the get go I wanted Deuce to have something that symbolize change/metamorphosis. I can’t pick butterfly because we all know who will get that, so a dragonfly it is.

Cater Diamond

His daemon name is Avyukth. It’s a Sanskrit girl name means "Peace of Mind; Clear as Crystal; Name of Lord Krishna." Cater gave her “Avie” as a nickname.

Avie settles into a potbellied pig. Pig symbolism is fascinating and varied depending on which side of the world you're in. In English language, there are many idioms where pigs become the subject, like "pearls before swine", "when pigs fly" dan "whole hog", thus giving pigs the symbol of gluttony or slovenliness. But, in China, pigs become the first animal to be domisticated, thus connecting it with domesticity, the home, and the success of the family. It can also symbolize status, wealth, prosperity, honesty, and virtue. Not to mention, pig is one of the animal in the twelve zodiac despite overslept and took up the rear.

For Cater, I was looking for “animal that's kinda sus” and found out that ‘Sus’ the genus of wild and domestic pigs. After that, a friend suggested those little teacup pig. I’ve never heard about it so I looked up and hoo boy it did not disappointed. With the many symbolism of the pig, we can take this as not really knowing Cater daemon’s true reason of her settled animal.

Trey Clover

His daemon name is Frideswide. It’s a modern form of the Old English name Friðuswiþ. It is formed of the elements frip, which means ‘peace’ and swib, which means ‘strong.’

Frideswide settles into a Newfoundland god. When you think of dogs, the first thought is usually the term “a man’s best friend”, an animal that will give you unconditional love and devotion. They are also a fierce protector and a faithful companion with their endurance, perseverance, domesticity, and playfulness in life.

I kinda joked around that I’ll be giving Trey a companion animals, and the first pick is a dog. For the breed, Newfoundland dog can be a great mama (other than Labrador Retriever), and also a symbol of hard work and genuine loyalty.

Riddle Rosehearts

His daemon name is Aurealana. It’s a combination of two words; ‘aurea’ which means “golden” in Latin, and “alana” which can be derived from the Irish language term "a leanbh" for "child".

Aurealana settles into a Northern mockingbird. From it's habit of "mocking", these birds represent learning, memorization, plagiarism, and music. Mockingbirds are also socially monogamous and will go out of their way to choose a partner who aggressively defends the nest and is an active and devoted parent, thus they can also represent communication, stability, defense, protection, parenthood, or commitment.

From the beginning, I know that Riddle has to have a bird daemon. It’s the usual ‘bird can fly, flying means freedom’ and Riddle being in his mother control feels like ‘a bird trapped in a birdcage’. I also headcanon Mama Rosehearts has a big cat daemon, or something like a lion or tiger, which makes it scarier compare to Riddle’s small bird.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #ace trappola #deuce spade #cater diamond #trey clover #riddle rosehearts #Twisted Wonderland Daemon AU #twisted wonderland au #twst au

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