#curiouscorvid

[curiouscorvidcreaturecompendium]

New official emblem for the Curious Corvid Creature Compendium; Invertebrate volume

[curiouscorvidcreaturecompendium]

In honor of @mandrakebrew who likes centipedes, we present our research in progress on Arthropleura dormitator, colloquially known as the Kind Crawler. A. dormitator is the only extant member of rhe arthropleura genus of gigantic prehistoric myriapods. They are endemic to deep old growth forests in Appalachian North America and Central Europe.

[curiouscorvidcreaturecompendium]

Text reads:

Many decades ago, Curious Corvid Publishing commissioned us on a project to collect and compile data on specimens of obscure creatures: the mythological, the fantastical, and the cryptic. This volume is the first report of our findings, concerning invertebrates, which we present to the world not to endanger these animals or make them vulnerable, but in the hopes that by lifting the shroud of unfamiliarity we might enhance humanity’s ability to appreciate, celebrate, and protect the more mysterious inhabitants of this strange world. Our hope is that you will read our findings and come away with a deeper appreciation and respect for the earth and ecosystem in which you are just a passing traveler, to which you must one day inevitably return.

“Remember me as you pass by.

As you are now, so once was I;

As I am now, so you must be,

Therefore prepare to follow me.”

[curiouscorvidcreaturecompendium1]

Alt text:

Many decades ago, Curious Corvid Publishing commissioned us on a project to collect and compile data on specimens of obscure creatures: the mythological, the fantastical, and the cryptic. This volume is the first report of our findings, which we present to the world not to endanger these animals or make them vulnerable, but in the hopes that by lifting the shroud of unfamiliarity we might enhance humanity's ability to appreciate, celebrate, and protect the more mysterious inhabitants of this strange world. Our hope is that you will read our findings and come away with a deeper appreciation and respect for the earth and ecosystem in which you are just a passing traveller, to which you must one day inevitably return.

"Remember me as you pass by.

As you are now, so once was I;

As I am now, so you must be,

Therefore prepare to follow me."

[hellyeahgerrymichael]

have you read occupational hazard by curiouscorvid?

YES, I HAVE!

Occupational Hazards by Curiouscorvid

A collection of gerrymichael moments that I write as warmups before working on my larger gerrymichael fic that I have in the works. Prompts are pulled from this post: https://cherry-on-topple.tumblr.com/post/189600352882/not-doing-too-good-sentence-starters

I will include warnings at the beginning of each chapter.

It is a gem and a must for anyone who likes whump tropes and h/c.

I am really curious about that larger fic they mention too.

[ao3feed-destiel]

Cat Wrangling and Other Noble Pursuits

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/1NDYjmx

by curiouscorvid

Inspired by the prompt: "Did you hear me?" Cas asks."I said Sam told me he loves me."

Words: 2594, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Supernatural

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Angst, Jealousy

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/1NDYjmx

[museaway]

I wasn’t going to write this, but I couldn’t get it out of my head, so please indulge me and look away if you don’t like Hannigram. Hannibal S3 finale coda, 480 words. on AO3

The last thing Will remembered thinking before they hit the water was the adage, It's not the fall that kills you.

The ocean forced them apart, a wall of water smashing them against a wall of rock. The surf was cold and unforgiving: literal salt in his wounds. He repeatedly swiped his hand through the surge in search of Hannibal's, but came up empty. He sputtered, gasping for air through a mouthful of saltwater.

Something brushed his leg—an arm? A hand? He thrashed in the water and the thing bobbed up beside him.

“Hannibal,” he rasped, shocked by his appearance: ashen skin and lips deep gray in the moonlight. The blood had washed away.

Hannibal’s blink was sluggish, but he opened his eyes. They grabbed each other, almost drowning from the tangle of limbs. Hannibal's arms locked around Will’s neck, forcing his mouth and nose underwater. But it was the survival instinct that drove Hannibal to do it. Will held his breath until he could surface. The ocean beat and beat and beat against them.

He was woozy and disoriented because of his blood loss, both of them in danger of hypothermia, but adrenaline forced his hands onto the rock the next time the ocean pushed them toward it; gave him the resolve to try and guide them, ever so slowly, along the base of the cliff toward the shore.

There had to be a shore.

For seemingly hours, he pulled them inch by inch, hand over hand, along the cliffside. Hannibal shivered against him, panting into his neck. Will guided them despite his exhaustion, despite the blisters and lacerations that formed on his palms and fingertips from the slippery rock. His hands throbbed and bled, and he kept moving.

He saw black and stars, Molly and Willy and the dogs, his farm house in Wolf Trap. He ground his teeth and forced them through the dark waves, surprised the stag didn’t tread water beside them.

At last, the shore—a mirage, he thought at first; a trick of the light—but he crawled up the sandy incline on one arm, as weak and desperate as the first fish emerging from the ocean. He heaved Hannibal with him, exhausting the last of his strength, collapsing on the sand and closing his eyes. Hannibal didn’t move, a heavy, wet weight on top of him. Every part of Will’s body ached, but he couldn’t get up. The waves rushed up around them, then retreated.

Maybe it would have been better to bleed out on the clifftop. If they managed to survive, how long would Hannibal let him live for this newest betrayal? It had been a coward’s way out. It had been his way out. Bedelia was right: he couldn’t live, with or without him.

It’s not the fall, he told himself as Hannibal shook above him and went still, and the waves, ever moving, came again.