#┅┅┅ YOUR MIND IS WIDER THAN THE SKY. ┉ ( VERSE. UNIVERSITY. )

[thesiltverses]

Are aliens real in the Silt Verses or do people believe in aliens (ala the X-Files)?

Aliens would not be up for consideration as a narrative possibility under our 'we're not going to map out or acknowledge the wider planetary and extra-planetary state of things beyond the countries we've established' approach,

which is an approach we've chosen to take largely for our focus on the human stories taking place in a scattered and propaganda-filled setting, and to keep the three-degrees-off-kilter resemblance to our own world intact, and because it's a show about the limitations of our knowledge when it comes to the grander mysteries of the universe.

When it comes to visitors from the stars, citizens of the Peninsula would reasonably imagine these as angels of a sky-god or astronomy-god in any case.

I do think, however, you could have an alien god, or a god of alienness, in the other sense of the word - a wild deity who arises naturally out of xenophobia, a terrifying spirit of absolute foreignness who is simply unknowable and unrecognisable in the classic cosmic-horror tradition, who acts out the very worst nightmares of the souls who pray to keep it away.

Should you accidentally call it down upon yourself, it invades your house and family, it steals your job, it leeches off your life and undermines you at every turn, it appears to be a perfect replica and replacement for you with the same intentions in mind for its life, and yet you cannot comprehend it other than to despise it.

[whitesuited]

tag drop 3 of -- ( i think this is it? for now?? )

[bangtancentricsblog]

the king, a prince and their grand maid duchess

➣ “What of this, have you given this to anyone?” he breathes, thumb still caressing the plush velvet of your lip. Your heart flutters, there’s this nagging voice in the back of your brain that urges to play coy. With any other man maybe you would but with Yoongi it’s different, the voice fades and you find yourself breathing a soft almost silent ‘no’. His thumb ceases its slow trek over your lip, a smirk pulling at his the color of his eyes grows darker at your answer.

❒ pairing: min yoongi x reader, hinted jung hoseok x reader

❒ genre: fluff, slight angst, smut

❒ alternative universe: royals, non-idol verse,

❒ word count: 2.9k+

warnings/disclosures: light angst, light smut, fluff, kissing, dry humping, yoongi is the only true heir, the others are sons of the concubines, king yoongi, prince bts, grand duchess reader, maid reader, her and yoongi have a past, playful yoongi, please let me know if I’ve missed anything!!

*REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!* **this fic is exclusively being continued over on my ao3 only**

The soft scratch of the pen is grating to his ears, a sign that Yoongi is growing weary of all the paperwork that comes with ruling the kingdom. He doesn't hate it but he also wished he could push this work onto one of the princes. He’s sighing for what feel s like the millionth time since he sat down some three hours ago. His attendant Sungmin is tired too, tired that the king is being difficult when he’s been king for the grand total of a year. It's not that he doesn’t sympathize with the king because he does but he doesn't understand why he hasn't appointed any of the six princes to major roles in the palace. He’s sure prince Namjoon would be more than helpful in trying to settle a new tax that will lighten the financial burden on the lower class. But alas Yoongi has yet to decide any of that for his brothers.

“What else is there?” Yoongi breathes as he puts his pen down to rub at his tired eyes. The study feels stuffy, the sun is high in the sky and he doesn't want to be here until sundown.

“All that’s left is the Vermillion palace, your majesty.” Sungmin says a furrow to his brow at the topic.

“Really?”

“Yes, we can’t keep putting it off. It’s been a year and any time it’s brought up you say to save it for another day.” Sungmin says vehemently. He wants to bring up more pressing matters than the Vermillion Palace but he doesn’t think Yoongi will take too kindly to it.

“I suppose you’re right. I want it emptied out, reassign all personal to where they are needed, burn all that is left behind. Then have it torn down, summon an architect after the area has been cleared.” He says, expression cold and somewhat detached at the mention of the Vermillion palace.

“But your highness, where will the concubines live?” Sungmin sputters, baffled at the thought of the other princes’ mothers thrown to the streets so carelessly.

“Send word to the princes, if they wish to keep their mothers in their palaces they may and if not they are to do as they please.”

“If I may, your highness, where will you keep your harem if not the vermillion palace?” Yoongi’s glare is cold, colder than before, a look he’s never seen, especially not directed at him.

“I will lie with my queen and only the queen. The late king chose to lie with other women but I will not so I do not need a harem. If the next king chooses to do so then so be it but during my reign I will not take concubines as war prisoners or any other form.”

“I shall send word to the princes then.” Sungmin mutters taking note to inform the princes of the changes to come.

“Good, now leave and send for her.” Yoongi sighs, relaxing into the plushness of the chair he sits on, the grin that tugs at his lip is hard to miss.

*

There’s a knock at the door, one that had the grin at his lips stretching wider. He gives permission to enter and he’s happy to see her even if she’s wearing the maid uniform of the royal palace.

“You called your majesty?”

“Always ‘your majesty’, it’s never Yoongi anymore.” he chuckles watching attentively as she has yet to bring her gaze up from the floor.

“That would be improper, your majesty, how could a maid to the royal palace dream to address his majesty so casually.” she simpered a smirk tugging at her lips.

“I see, then how are you today Grand Duchess?” he asks, mirth coloring his tone. He watches amusedly as your head finally moves, gaze meeting his in a glare, brows pinched together at the mention of the title.

“I am not the Grand Duchess.”

“But you could be, the title is yours to take.” he quips gaze alight with glee.

“It is also my brothers, I have no need for a title.” His lips fall from the easy smile into a firm line, ‘I know’, he thinks because he does your father the only Grand Duke of the kingdom had willingly offered the title to either of you under the condition that should you ever take it you’d be wed to someone reliable who’d help lessen the burden of overseeing a dukedom.

“Do you remember your debutante ball?” he says instead choosing to redirect the conversation.

“Oh god, not this again.” you laugh hands coming up to cover your face. You look just as stunning in the plain black dress, your hair has been pulled away from your face in a ponytail, he wonders briefly if your hair is longer and still as silky as it looks.

“Yes, this again.” he teases.

“I can't remember who was more surprised by your attendance, your brothers or the ladies debuting.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You can’t have been so blind to the ways all the other noble ladies fawned over your presence.”

“If you insist, I only had one lady in mind. What I would give to see you in a proper dress again.” he sighs wistfully.

“You’re being very bold your majesty, and you see me in a dress everyday.” you giggle hand covering your mouth as you do so.

“The palace uniform is inadequate. I mean a real dress, one made of silk with an embroidered bodice in the colors of the royal family.”

“Is this you saying that you’ve finally decided to search for a queen consort?” you ask tone falling into something soft, not a single hint of affection. One that came with years of grooming to withstand the harsh life of a noble. The one you used when speaking with strangers who were too friendly with you. He did not like it.

“I don’t need to look for one, I have already chosen a consort. Do you remember what I told you all those years ago?” he whispers moving to stand, his legs protesting at the sudden change.

“I do,” you breathe, gaze falling to his desk, “I still don't have an answer.”

“How much longer must I wait?” he starts, then falls silent.

"I don't know.”

“Do you mean that? Do you really not know?”

“Yes, you are in your prime, your majesty it’s why I have urged you to look for a queen consort.” you mutter.

“As are you, why waste your life as a maid to the royal family when you could be Grand Duchess? Wouldn’t you rather spend your time at social gatherings and tea parties with friends?”

“I love the royal family. I will always love them as my own but I have no need for the title, I don't need it.” Yoongi laughs, something so cold almost mocking it makes you shiver.

“You can have the title of Grand Duchess but don’t want it. I offer you myself and the title of Queen and you still have yet to decide if you want it. I told you years ago that I would wait, and I will, if I have to wait many lifetimes then so be it, but I will wait until you are ready to give yourself to me as I have been since you were fourteen.” he says. Your hands have tightened their hold on the skirt of your uniform, fingers turned white at the grip you have of the soft cotton. There’s always been something about Yoongi that made your usual composure crumble, as if he knew which cracks to poke and prod until you were falling apart.

“I will not be Queen only in name -”

“You won't, - ”

“- and I will not stand by as my husband lies with other women who will grow heavy with his children.”

“- because I don't plan on having a harem.” he mumbles rounding the desk to stand before you. You want to move away from him, because being this close to Yoongi never ends well. The heat of his body seaks yours, as if searching for its lover. It’s just your deprived mind you reason, as he moves closer his breath now skimming over your cheeks the hint of mint from his earlier tea present as it washes over you.

“What do you mean?” you whisper.

“I will take no concubines, when I have my queen I will need no one but her. She will be the only one to bear my children. She will be the only one I lie with, the only one I will give my everything to.” Heat swirls low in your belly, a feeling you’re familiar with when in the presence of your king. Yoongi has only grown more handsome since you were fourteen and he’d asked for your hand in marriage, he hadn't cried when you’d stayed silent like you thought he would. No, he smiled promising he could wait because he was a patient man. It was laughable really since he’d only been two years older than you then, the moment ruined as his rambunctious brothers came crashing down on one another from hiding behind a pillar near the garden he’d lead you to. Were you really allowed to believe you could have it all, have him? Surely there was a trick, nothing came that easily.

“Who are you assigned to?” he asks, breaking you from your thoughts.

“Pardon?”

“Which of my brothers do you serve?”

“Prince Hoseok, but why do you ask?”

“Hmm, have you given yourself to anyone?” he says instead, as you sputter to put words together.

“N-no, Yoongi!” you say on instinct the only two words that have come to mind when bombarded with such an intrusive and private question. You almost want to stomp your feet and yell at him for daring to ask a lady that, especially you of all people!

“I was the only true heir to the throne, when my father was on his deathbed.” Your brows come together knowing how much he’d cared for his father despite the slight contempt he held for him. “He could’ve chosen any of my brothers to take the throne, Hoseok would’ve made a good king.” he says, a hand grasping your hip as heat rushes to your face, the warmth settling just beneath the skin heating further as a palm moves to cup your jaw. The slow drag of his thumb across your lower lip pulls your attention. The heat in your belly swirls further pooling in the apex of your thighs, his eyes are half lidded, the rich pools of chocolate darkened to one you recognize easily. It's a look you’ve bore witness to since the two of you have begun this game of tiptoeing around the other. Friends you’d said once but not quite friends either bordering along the lines of something more, something you’ve always been too afraid to touch.

“What of this, have you given this to anyone?” he breathes, thumb still caressing the plush velvet of your lip. Your heart flutters, there’s this nagging voice in the back of your brain that urges to play coy. With any other man maybe you would but with Yoongi it’s different, the voice fades and you find yourself breathing a soft almost silent ‘no’. His thumb ceases its slow trek over your lip, he smirks a the color of his eyes grows darker at your answer.

“Hoseok would’ve made a good king,” he says again leaning in the slightest bit “he would’ve been quick to whisk you away and make you his queen, but I have never been good at letting people take what’s mine.” he growls slanting his lips to yours the feeling familiar. This isn't your first kiss, not with Yoongi anyway. Your first one was when you were fourteen and had shared stolen kisses throughout your life thereafter.

It was innocent at first, just a peck, a soft press of his lips to yours and then as you got older it grew more desperate. His hands tugging you closer as you hid in the apple orchard. It was the introduction of tongue and teeth that always left your breathless, the high collared dresses you wore in the sweltering summer heat of the capital to hide the marks he’d left the last time you’d seen him. Thus vowing to never wear any dresses that exposed too much skin when visiting him again!

This time reminded you of the last, his grip hard as he pulled you into his body, his hips pressed tight to yours. His tongue poked at the seam of your lips pulling a whine from deep within you as you pressed impossibly closer to him. He’s taller than you remember your arms loop around his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss, your fingers tangle in his hair soft against your skin. You tug on it experimentally, a growl tickles your lips before he pulls away. The whimper that comes is involuntary, your body has betrayed you as your arms refuse to let him move even an inch away from you. He chuckles nipping at your lip softly before turning your bodies so that he can lift you easily to sit at the edge of his giant oak desk.

“Is this okay?” he rasps pecking you once, then twice as his nimble fingers skim the hem of your skirt. It’s just like last time the voice says and you nod once because this is more than okay. He’s more than eager to push your skirt up, slotting himself in the space between your thighs and pulling you forward to feel him. You gasp, thighs twitching as his manhood presses to your heat the trousers he wears do nothing to hide his growing desire. The black hosiery you wear is too thin as it grows damp your arousal soaking through your panties.

Yoongi thrusts into your heat, hands dimpling the meat of your thighs as he pulls you closer, rutting into you as if it’ll be the last time. It will be, the voice says, tauntingly reminding you that the first time he’d touched you like this was years ago, reminded you how shame had colored your gentle love stricken heart and had made you stay away from him. Your mind is racing body falling into the steady rhythm Yoongi has set. The hushed tone of his groans spark something within you a shaky whine slipping past your kiss bitten lips. His breath ghosts over your cheeks as he murmurs your name, the fog that clouds your brain is dense, so thick all you can manage is choked gasps. The half words that slide onto your tongue near incoherent babble as the feeling mounts. Yoongi’s grip is tight, trying desperately to angle his hips so that you can really feel him, all of him.

The sweet desperate lilt of your voice keeps him grounded, reminds him that your purity is still intact and he would rather die than take it from you like this. He’s not sure why it turned out like this, he’d only meant to tease you, and yet being able to have you even like this is truly a blessing. Like this he’ll be able to picture what you’ll be like when he can really feel all of you, to truly have you after you have given yourself to him. Your ankles have locked around his hips, the desperate pleas fuel his hunger, squeezing one of your perfect breasts pulls the sweetest high pitched whine from you. A sound he’s much too eager to swallow as he repeats the motion slotting his lips to yours once more as you squeal, oh she’ll be the death of me, he thinks, feeling the press of your hips into his.

“Yoo-yoongi, o-oh, plea-please, oh!” you wail legs twitching around his hips, tightening around him enough that he can no longer pull away from you to avoid his end. Your hips have yet to still, rolling softly into his as he continues to rutt into you with a strangled groan. The fog on your brain has begun to clear, now taking note of the way your panties stick to you uncomfortably. Yoongi’s warmth pressed close, he’s heavier than you last remember, broader too, he’s yet to say anything and fear peaks into your consciousness. Your hands lie limp at your sides though they ache to touch, to feel the heat of his skin, maybe he’s hiding more beneath the shirt, you want to see, you want to feel, you want Yoongi. But you're still not ready, it’s a harsh reality that drowns the warmth you had felt moments ago in chilling waters.

“Stop that.” he sighs, moving to stand, hips still neatly snug between your thighs.

“Stop what?”

“Stop thinking so hard, I meant it then and I mean it now I will wait for you. Just don’t hide from me again.” a sad look colors his features as he says this, reminding you that you hadn’t been the only one affected by what had happened all those years ago.

“I won't.” you whisper rather petulantly tugging a smile onto his lips. He helps ease you from your position against the desk sliding the hem of your dress down over your hips. Your legs are shaky as you stand smoothing some of the wrinkles out of the fabric as he watches diligently.

“I should excuse myself.”

“Is that so, eager to return to Hoseok are you.” he asks around a smirk.

“No, I am still a maid, your majesty.” his smirk falls, eyes narrowing at the loss of his name.

“Fine, you may leave but do not expect to remain in Hoseok’s care forever.” he reminds you as you turn on your heel.

“Of course not my king.” you say closing the door but not missing the way his cheeks color at the term of endearment

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

2099 Alpha #1 Thoughts

This was a confusing set of teaser trailers.

This is partially a post covering the issue and a rant about the entire premise of the series.

Throughout this comic book (and F4 2099) one prevailing question kept crossing my mind.

 “Who is this even for?”

 It was a question that became louder when I looked at both the cover and the blurb at the back explaining how this project came to be about.

 Matthew Rosenberg, author of the most controversial and derided X-Men run in recent memory (so you know that bodes well), pointed out that 2019 was both the 80th anniversary of Marvel comics (even though most people would argue Marvel truly started in 1961 with F4 #1) and also 80 years away from the real life year 2099.

 The idea was dismissed but then Nick Spencer decided he liked it and after one thing led to another this event was born.

 This event being a ‘reimagining’ of the 2099 universe but with ‘a similar methodology’ to the original 1992 line (that is to say avoiding the ‘common traps’ of descendants of known characters*), with a mind towards how the future was perceived in 2019 vs. 1992.

 Right off the bat there are inherent problems with that entire premise.

 First of all the original 2099 line presented a version of the future that if anything is MORE relevant now than it was in 1992.

 Futurism in any era is never just one thing, but the futurism of 2019 is generally speaking understandably cynical and nihilistic. It’s a world which foresees a future where there isn’t even an illusion of freedom, where the gap between rich and poor has grown even wider than it already is with little-no feasible way to close it, where corporations run the show (more openly than they already do) and where environmental disaster is ravaging mankind if not having already wiped it out. This is to say nothing of a world where artificial intelligence and mechanisation will probably compromise a lot of people’s employment opportunities, and pose direct physical and mental dangers to human lives.

 That is the general ethos of how a lot of people and a lot of fiction reflects the future NOWDAYS. And that’s what the 2099 was doing in 1992! Not only was the line set in the future it was literally ahead of it’s time as the world we live in if anything has grown to reflect it more and more.

  Secondly when you are approaching the notion of making a futuristic version of Spider-Man and the Punisher in the year 2099 and applying the same ‘methodology’ as the LAST time someone tried to make a futuristic version of Spider-Man and the Punisher in the year 2099 the results at best are not going to be that different, rendering the exercise pointless. In fact in all likelihood you are going to be worse or at least derivative. Even if you are not the fact that the 2099 line resonated with people enough for it to continually pop up every so often for nearly 30 years means that your new take is unlikely to hold up to people’s nostalgia.

 And make no mistake, this is a project that exists for nostalgia. It doesn’t exist just for the sake of exploring a possible future for the Marvel universe, otherwise why revive a popular and famous Marvel brand to do it?

 And therein lies my fundamental question.

 If this project exists because people are already invested in 2099 then why reboot it and thus mitigate their emotional investment?

 Nostalgic 2099 fans don’t simply want to see any iteration of these characters. They want something at least mostly in line with the original 1992 iteration, which is why when Spidey 2099 was scheduled for a spin-off in 2014 the fandom spoke with one voice, they wanted Peter David back. And whilst the iteration of Miguel and 2099 as a whole he presented was not identical to the 1992 version(s) it was at least a helluva lot closer than 2009’s Timestorm (a pathetic attempt to essentially do Ultimate 2099) and wound up being more successful as a result.

 This is literally the exact mistake the Nu52 made in that it erased the iterations of the DC characters and DC universe people knew and loved and replaced it with new versions (‘coincidentally’ closer to the versions the DC higher ups knew and loved as kids). It alienated readers to the point where DC Rebirth practically reverse rebooted the Nu52, rendering the characters much closer to their pre-Nu52 counterparts, and in Superman’s case having the pre-Nu52 Superman literally replace his successor.

 With the 2099 event though the attempt at rebooting is even more wrongheaded considering that this isn’t even a lasting universe that might in theory develop new readers over time. It’s a string of connected one shots associated with a Spider-Man story arc. If there is any aftermath to this event at all it will be fairly minimal and at most follow Miguel O’Hara.

 And that brings up the other end of this event’s problems. This holds little appeal to (the already miniscule number of) potential newer fans.

 Consider how this event started. You are a newer fan reading Spencer’s ASM run. You pick up issue #25 and randomly this other Spider-Man looking guy you maybe recognize from some video games and the post-credits scene from Into the Spider-Verse shows up, looking half dead.

 For less than 20 pages across 3 issues you follow him stumbling about spouting nonsense before he delivers some weird line about possible futures (that you’ll only understand if you already know about the 2099 lines) and then he blows up.

 Okay, at best you get the idea. He is a Spider-Man from the future and the present day has erased his future, that’s bad.

 Then you pick this up and you maybe figure out that this Miguel character in this comic book is in fact the same guy, or a VERSION of the same guy you met back in ASM. That’s confusing. It’s confusing because you need to deduce that this issue is the newly rewritten timeline, making your investment in the preceding ASM issues kinda pointless. It might also be confusing because time travel stories tend to be confusing unless written with a lot of clarity.

 But say you just picked THIS up, maybe because you recognized Spidey 2099 on the cover (and god forbid you picked it up due to recognizing the classic 2099 characters).

 Spencer in this comic book doesn’t write a story. He writes a series of teaser vignettes strung together by the Watcher and Doom spouting a load of cryptic nonsense.

 Nothing is explained, nothing is clearly conveyed, the world building is quite frankly awful, you merely get an impression  of this future, you are not actually organically introduced to much of anything. In comparison the first few issues of Spider-Man 2099 already gave you a great idea of what this world of the future was like.

 It’s not just that the presentation is bad and thus likely to alienate newer readers (I was lost with it and I’m familiar with the older 2099 stuff to a degree) but it’s also frankly inferior to the 1992 rendition of the future.

 Perhaps the 1992 Marvel line wasn’t the single most original vision of the future ever conceived, but it at least combined older ideas together and presented a consistent vision. Perhaps the microcosm of the 1992’s vision of the future was the notion of the ravaged ruins of old New York being the foundations upon which new super sky scrapers were built, the rich literally living above the poor.

 But this issue never brings that up, it doesn’t bring up the narrative and literal foundations of the world this takes place in. My personal impression was that this 2099 doesn’t even incorporate such an idea.  It’s a microcosm of how off the rails this reboot is.

 Everything feels downright generic sans the city of traffic and the colony of Thor/Asgardian worshippers.

 Even those are derivative though. Transverse City rips off (a much better executed) idea from a 2007 episode of Doctor Who ‘Gridlock’ which is regarded as something of a modern classic by fans.  And the Thor worshippers was something that came directly from the original 1992 2099 line, but weirdly is being used to tease...Conan the Barbarian???????? Conan hasn’t got anything to do with Thor besides coming from a warrior background. It might as well be Silver Samurai!

 Perhaps the best microcosm of this issue’s failings at world building and presentation, can be found in the opening scene.

 In the scene Thor’s hammer is frequently relocated and seems to be maybe or maybe not moving on it’s own volition. That isn’t to say the story is building in mystery as to whether or not it is moving on it’s own. It’s just that poorly conveyed to the audience. I honestly have little idea what was happening in that scene sans the authorities going to war with Thor’s worshippers.

 The scene also contains a microcosm of this book being for nobody. In said scene a police officer gets their face revealed and is referred to as ‘Jake’. If you didn’t already realize it, this is Jake Gallows, Punisher 2099. He does nothing else in the course of the issue beyond get injured fight and tell his friend a confusing police story. Then the issue ends teasing him as Punisher 2099.

 Like I said nostalgic 2099 fans will be turned off by this on principle because it’s not the character you know and love (his costume will also be different too) but if you are a newer reader...what are you even supposed to make of this? He’s just a random cop, it might as well have been his cop buddy who was the Punisher. It was at best a lame first impression.

And that’s true of virtually EVERY character teased in this comic exempting maybe Ghost Rider 2099.

He at least got a little more personality, you got a little more insight into how he operates, but only as a normal guy not as anything associated with the classic Ghost Rider or the 2099 counterpart you know and love.

Miguel’s background was confusing as he seems to already have his powers but is chummy with his dickhead boss/Dad/archnemesis Tyler Stone and the brief flashbacks to his origin are both different to the original 2099 line and nonsensical.

Conan didn’t even appear to my recollection but he’s still teased.

And the F4 tease was laughable as it didn’t even feature the F4 but rather HERBIE and a newly imagined take on Venture, effectively the first super villain of the 2099 line.

When this event was announced I was sad that Peter David was uninvolved.

But now I see why.

They didn’t want him involved and this is frankly an insult to his and the other 2099 creators’ works.

Don’t read this.

*Gotta love that subtle shade thrown out at the MC2 universe, a universe which lasted longer than the original 2099 line and you know....was way better than this reimagining has been so far. Why does modern Marvel punch down on Spider-Girl.

[thranduilsperkybutt]

Ruby red nights (Part 2)

|  Part 1  |  Part 3  |

Imagine:  Imagine Olivia and Elliot being turned into vampires and as their sire, you teach them how to live as creatures of the night. It gets hot and heavy one night as they give into their new urges and before long it turns into a threesome between you nightly.

Warnings:  Trigger warning: Blood, Vampire AU

Pairing:  Olivia Benson x Reader x Elliot Stabler

Word count:  1697 words

Universe:  Vampire AU, Law and Order SVU

Reader gender:  Female

Author:  Ilariya_Lavoro writes

The sun was high in the sky sapping you dry, you could not leave your bed even if you dared to want to. The daylight was forced back, hiding behind the thick specially designed curtains that covered the large bay windows on the far wall of your bedroom but yet you could still feel the effects of those hellish rays.

The waves of purple silk covering the bare lower half were cooling but simply not enough. You longed for the sweet embrace of the dead man’s slumber but yet it did not come. You could not find the way into the magical, thoughtless moment to get through the long hours of sunshine. It was out of your reach in this one moment.

All you were left with were your thoughts and a lifetime of memories as you tried to get comfort for the endless hours that lay ahead. The sun would hang in the sky, taunting you until it too found its slumber beneath the horizon. Your night was humanity’s daytime. This had been a simple truth that your progeny had struggled to come to terms with. Yet you had found a coven of witches albeit reluctant at first, who were able to help once you paid their steep price in order to make your children happy.

This was your price, to lose your ability to find peace in dark delight of sleep once a week. This had been your choice to sacrifice one night of strength in exchange for the creation of enchanted daylight emblems. Simple jewellery which housed the powerful spell to protect them from the deadly power of the sun.

A signet ring emblazoned with your personal coat of arms and necklace with a pendant bearing the same sign, that the bearers were your children. Each item, the witches had further blessed with another simpler spell to prevent them from breaking. Your price had been a heavy one but it was a price that you would willingly make again, in a heartbeat.

Beads of sweat quickly gathered, drenched your brow but the smile upon your lips could not completely mask your agony, your pain. “It’s worth the mind numbing agony” You whispered, your voice hoarse and strained as you spoke through gritted teeth.

Registration, the formal ceremony that all fledgling vampires must go through. It was seen as a symbolic rite of passage where they would be simply introduced the wider community, entering into the coven that made up the area. It was never quite that simplicistic. Your mind wandered back to that moment.

This was not your first bite of the cherry. It had only been a few nights since your children had been fully turned but they need to be registered. The elders would not forgive you a second time. Last time, you had been a younger more volatile vampire. Anger and hatred were your poison of choice, turning your victim out of spite. That particular childe never forgave you, they never let you forget the choice you had made that night over four centuries ago.

It had been a terrible mistake, born from your own self hatred. In that moment you had become the person you despised above all others, your own sire. It had brought you back down to reality, as you had tried to repair the damage with your first childe. The tie between the two of you wasn’t as strained and tentative as it could of have been, yet Emma still accepted your support and friendship. Something you highly doubted she would have three centuries ago.

This time was different, Olivia and Elliot had been on the brink, dangling over the hungry jaws of death. They had weakly called out as the darkness crept into their vision. They wanted to live and you had chosen to heed their calls, answer their pleas for aid and snatch death’s latest flesh coated prize. You could of easily hastened their deaths, draining them dry and relishing in the taste of the heavenly elixir that was the lifeblood of humanity.

The elder’s nest had always been a place you actively tried to avoid when possible. There was a perpetual dark cloud that lingered in the atmosphere over the den. The home was far from welcoming, a heavy oppressive weighted upon your chest each and every time you found yourself within these walls.

You stood as a still as statue, shadowed by Olivia and Elliot in the entrance hall waiting to be seen. “Tell me, why are we here in the middle of the night?” Elliot asked, frustration rolled off each word in waves. You shook your head, your hair danced as you moved lightly tickling the back of your neck.

“All newborn vampire must be presented before the Area’s elder, to be registered and accounted for. This is part of our law to prevent chaos and discovery,” there was only truth held within your words, you were repeating your own sire’s words spoken a lifetime ago to you. A boredom lingered as you spoke the well versed paraphrase. It was one of the few memories of your sire that was not tainted by a cold rage. A rage that you could not let go of.

“You are both part of this world. Dancing between the realms life and death to preserve the balance” You locked your gaze first with Olivia then turning your attention to Elliot, trying to read the emotion reflected within their eyes. Elliot was far easier to read out of your pair of children. The annoyance at the stiff and stuffy rigmarole grated at his already short nerves.

“Elder Cruz will see you now” Those few words were enough to make you ever so slightly nervous. Annalise Cruz had taken over control of Area 46 in the late 18th century after a turf war had render the previous elder obsolete and needing to be removed, piece by piece. They had ended up in several piece spread across the miles, Cruz had been judge, jury and executioner of Vampiric Law down to the letter. She was not to be messed with.

You lightly nodded, conveying respect as you began to move with Elliot and Olivia in tow. The last time that you had presented yourself before Elder Cruz had been over forty five years prior to this night. It had been a simple check in of sorts, updating your status within the area and play at the dalliance of court that the nest provided. You were a minor player that lingered in the back. You were of no real importance to the Elder or her inner circle but still you were expected to show face ever decade or two.

With your head held high, your feet quickly lead you down the winding corridor before passing through the open archway. Your gaze shifted right then left, taking in various vampires dotted about the room before you. You took in each individual in the vast space, some faces more familiar than others before you found the elder.

She stood in the center of the room, at first glance most would believe to her to nothing more than a child barely into her teenage years. Her youthful appearance was nothing short of a deception; she was well over eight hundred years old, turned only a handful of days after her twelfth birthday.

Olivia followed your gaze, shocked by the very sight of a child-like immortal but you cut in before she could voice her honest opinion. “There are more vampires like her, in days gone by, children were considered the easiest of preys. Our kin knew humanity would always continue to breed and in times of famine, war and chaos most would not notice a few children simply disappearing,” your words were matter of fact, you had only expressed a statement of truth on how some vampire chose their feeds.

“It is one of the reasons, the law evolved and changed to prevent such barbaric feeding frenzy for continuing,” you could feel the anger in Elliot rising once more and the disgust within Olivia.

You smiled softly at your children, brushing the back of your palm down his face trying your best to calm the rage. “History is there is teach us to be better than those who came before”

“Your sire speaks the truth, such distasteful turning are now explicitly forbidden in all areas of this great nation. It is punishable by death, youngling.”

Elder Cruz’s words that night had burnt into both of their memories, it had been a great relief to them both. The progressive nature of the ruling Elder calmed the tension that had begun to ralt at their moral compass. Their humanity would in theory remain intact for now at the very least with the knowledge that the old ways were no more within the very borders that they resided in.

You turned to face the older vampire before bowing your head in greeting, out of respect for the rules, “Good evening, Elder, these are my children, Olivia and Elliot.” You gestured your hand from one to the other. Your voice remained calm, methodical, showing prior experience from many years before, going through this with your last Childe.

Elder Cruz’s gaze took in each one carefully, examining them from head down to their toes before a smile broke across her lips, showing her childish glee briefly. “Indeed my friend, I welcome thee to the night. We are now kindred but be wary, I do not hold those who defy the sacred laws without contempt and punishment”  The threat was far from subtle, this was her way. She was not one to mince her words even in polite conversation.

Annalise Cruz’s attention and focus turned back to you. Her smile still remained but the warmth that been there moments before had now vanished, leaving a hollow, falseness behind in its place. “Walk with me my friend, we have much to catch up on. Your children will be fine without their sire for but a moment”

You quickly nodded, recognising the intent behind the words. This was no mere invitation, but a command to begin the final part of Olivia’s and Elliot’s registration.

To be continued

[ambitiousskychild]

Perhaps maybe 'Quiet Me' in the Purple Sky 'verse if you're willing to revisit it? Or maybe Enamour/Love Me otherwise? (for klance) (if you can't tell I love sweet stories and pining and you're so good at it)

Okay, so revisiting the Purple Sky universe made me remember that I wrote this before Season 2 even came out, so there’s nothing about Shiro’s disappearance and Keith becoming Black Paladin or Keith meeting his mom sooooo let’s pretend Keith meets Krolia before they go back to Earth

Quiet Me:

He’d told himself for months that he was strong enough for this. Strong enough to stay with the Blades, strong enough to put himself second to this new team on top of everything else he was putting himself second to. Strong enough not to think about Lance at night when he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop missing being around people who expressed anything other than stone-faced determination. 

And, he’d gotten good at it. Adequate at the very least. He shoved his fears and his worries deep down into his chest and let his head run things until he no longer counted the days, no longer worried about what would come next, no longer panicked about how much better Voltron was doing without him, but then-

Then he met his mom.

He’d just met his mom and she’d promised to never leave him again, and-

He panicked. His head wasn’t saving him this time and his body took over and. The next thing he knew, he was back at the castle, sneaking through the long empty halls and avoiding main congregation areas that the team could be in because he couldn’t handle being around anyone else when he felt so...

Scattered.

Maybe his room - his old room - wasn’t the best place to run to, but it was the last place he’d had where he’d had the longest stint of normalcy and routine, and... his jacket was in there and his things and... maybe he’d feel a bit more like himself if he saw them-

Someone was in his bed. It was the first thing he noticed when his door open, the second thing was that it was Lance.

“Keith,” he said softly, expression confused and a bit sheepish. He sat up, drawing Keith’s attention to the fact that he was lying under the sheets on his bed as well.

Keith couldn’t slow down enough to sort out how he felt about this. His heart lurched and he felt it beat a bit faster. He felt himself smiling even though he hadn’t done that in weeks, and he most definitely shouldn’t be doing it now-

The door slid shut behind him as he stepped into the room and Lance stood from the bed, met him in the middle. “Your-? Are you back? No, you can’t be - you would have said something - right? What-what are you doing here?” Lance stammered out.

Lance didn’t come too close, but he’d never been good at hiding when he wanted to touch him. His was wringing his hands together as if to keep them occupied and his eyes kept darting back and forth between him and the floor.

Keith felt like he couldn’t think. “I met - I just met my mom-” he blurted out because he was tired and tired of keeping it in and tired of looking at Lance at this distance and tired of Lance never being close enough.

“Oh,” Lance murmured, eyes wide and locked on him - the longest he’d looked right at him in months. “Oh,” he repeated, voice more alarmed this time. He took a step closer, but just one. “How-? Is she... nice? Why did she-?” he shook his head, eyes going determined as he focused on one thing, one thought. “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

Keith felt a sob in his throat because he - he didn’t know, and even still, he hadn’t seen Lance face-to-face in months and his first question what about how he was holding up, and he couldn’t stop himself from throwing his arms around Lance’s shoulders, burying his face in Lance’s neck and trying not to cry from - from feeling too many things he couldn’t even hope to understand.

“I don’t know,” he admitted as he felt Lance’s arms around his back, holding him just as close, almost squeezing because Lance missed him just as much as he missed Lance and he’d never stop being blown away by it. “I freaked out and I just - came here. I don’t think I can deal with it right now,” he admitted. Pulling away, he glanced up into Lance’s face, something much less worrisome coming to mind. “What are you doing in my room?”

Eyes going a bit wider, he let out a nervous laugh as Keith waited. Patient. Quiet. Smug. “I just-” Lance started sheepishly. “I miss you all the time. Sometimes, I can’t take it and I come in here ‘cause it feels like you’ll come in here, too, any minute. This is the best that fantasy has ever gone, honestly...”

Keith snorted, possibly a helpless reaction of feeling too many things at once, but if he couldn’t choose one feeling, it’d be this. “Happy to hear that,” he said. “I already ditched.... Kolivan’s gonna kill me. I might as well. Stay.”

“Yeah?” Lance murmured showing the exact smile Keith had been dreaming about over the last three months. “You’ll stay with me?”

“Kolivan’s gonna kick my ass, but I can’t care right now,” Keith admitted, pulling Lance behind him by the hand to his bed.

Limbs tangled and sheets strewn over them, Keith rested his head on Lance’s chest and tried to commit this moment to memory - the fact that Lance missed him and still loved him and made his life better by existing. How there was no room to even feel negatively when he was around him.

“Hey, Keith?” Lance whispered, waiting for Keith to hum back before continuing on. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, really, but I know you’re worried about the mom thing so I just wanna tell you it’ll be fine. Your mom... I’m not saying it won’t be weird and - strange, but. She’s your mom. She loves you. Considering all this intergalactic space war junk, I feel like she had a good reason to disappear. She probably regrets it more than she can explain to you. And if for some reason, things go bad with her, I’m here. We’re all here. We’ll beat her up if you want, she’ll probably kill us, but we’ll put up a valiant fight about it.”

Half an hour back with Lance and his face was already sore from grinning too wide. He felt like he’d never wanted to kiss Lance so bad in his life... but doing that would make it harder to leave.

And he had to leave.

He settled for snuggling more into Lance’s chest, Lance fingers going to his hair as a silent understanding passed between them. “Thanks. I feel a lot better. I think things’ll be okay with my mom,” he realized.

Lance hummed and Keith felt it more than heard it. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

[jiminies-ahmee]

MY UNIVERSE IS YOURS SERIES

PART NINE 

Hoseok’s eyes peek open as he hears yet another sigh from behind him and then the ruffling of sheets. The elder looks over his shoulder, wincing at the light of the streets from the open window on Jimin’s side of the room, and curses for forgetting to close the curtains. 

Huffing, he kicks the covers off before getting to his feet, groaning at the dull ache settled in the bottom of his spine as he shuffles towards the window. Incoherent sounds leave Jimin’s lips, but Hoseok pays no mind to them until he hears the younger mumble, “Y/N”. 

He stops in his tracks, staring at the younger who is silent for a moment before he gasps loudly, jolting up into a sitting position. Hoseok’s eyes widen at the sudden, explosive movement, his hand immediately clutching his racing heart as Jimin looks up at him. 

“H-Hyung? Why are you up?” The younger croaks, beads of sweat evident along his hairline as the light of the moon reflects against them. 

“I just needed to close the curtains. Are you okay? You’ve been tossing and turning for hours.” Hoseok replied, dismissing any worries Jimin had about himself, and moving to sit on the edge of the younger’s bed. “Do you want to take some medicine, maybe? It’s okay to take it, we have our comeback show today so you need as much rest as you can get.” Hoseok suggests. 

“No, hyung. They scare me,” Jimin paused to chuckle at how childish he sounded, “I get scared I won’t wake up again.” The elder nodded in agreement, accepting the younger’s wishes before letting out a sigh.

“Well it’s obvious you won’t be falling asleep any time soon. Do you want to have some tea, maybe? Come on, I’ll go downstairs with you.” Hoseok got to his feet, nodding his head towards the door as Jimin followed closely behind him, a loud yawn escaping him. 

Within minutes Hoseok found himself sitting across from Jimin who was holding a mug of chamomile tea in his hands. The two were silent, aware of the others upstairs who were sleeping soundly, but Hoseok had so many questions. 

“Jimin-ah?” Hoseok started, “Have you seen Y/N recently?” Jimin put his mug down after taking a long sip and shook his head ‘no’. 

“I haven’t. She was in a car accident a little while ago and she’s studying at the moment so I didn’t want to bother her.” Jimin explained, his attention fixated on playing with the tea bag which had been dunked into his mug. He looked up to his hyung, cocking his head to the side, “Why are you asking, hyung?” 

The question felt more like an accusation to Hoseok and his eyes widened for a moment, “Oh, I was just wondering, that’s all.” He replied, shrugging his shoulders. 

Yet again, silence fell over the two like a thick blanket, but there was nothing more to address. Though Hoseok wanted to ask Jimin all sorts of things about Y/N, he knew it would only bring more struggle for Jimin so he, too, stayed quiet. 

A loud gulp sounded throughout the kitchen and Hoseok chuckled lightly. He felt as though with that quiet laugh, all the stress and worry that had been tightly wringing his heart had finally lost all of its tension, his heart no longer feeling constricted by the hands of anxiety. 

Jimin giggled too and it only made Hoseok’s smile grow wider at the harmonious sound, “Are you feeling tired now?” 

“Yeah, sorry for waking you up. Now you’re going to be tired too.” The younger pouted, standing up to put his empty mug in the sink. 

“Ah, don’t worry about me. Look after yourself, okay, Jimin?” In this moment, Hoseok felt like he was talking to the real Jimin; the Park Jimin he hadn’t spoken to, nor seen in such a long time it almost felt unnatural to see Jimin like this. Smiling to himself, the elder ruffled Jimin’s hair before the pair moved back upstairs to their room. 

As Jimin rested his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, a strange feeling he knew all too well settled within the depths of his stomach. His teeth tugged at his bottom lip harshly, his grip on the sheets tightening before letting go. And a tear slipped down his cheek.

“Keep in your formations, okay? Don’t go out too far because it will be harder to come in for the ending.” Hoseok instructed, looking at each of the boys as they went about getting ready for the Comeback Show. Jimin sat in front of the mirror, not wanting to look up and see his reflection in fear he wouldn’t like what he saw. With little to no sleep and not enough food in his system, he knew though his face would be covered in makeup, underneath he’d still look the same. Weary eyed, purpling bags, cracked lips and a pale face. 

The night before had passed within a blink of an eye, Jimin felt he had only closed his eyes for a moment before he was being dragged out of his bed by the sun. He’d been speaking to you for quite some time now, but he was yet to go and meet you in person. The seemingly never-ending schedules that were consuming him left him with no choice but to simply continue texting and calling you. 

He’d thought about inviting you to the Comeback Show, but he was aware of how demanding your life was, also. And so, wanting to save himself from any disappointment he decided it best not to tell you anything about it. 

But really he wished you’d come and see him. Perhaps it was selfish and possibly unfair on your part seeing as he’d been the one to leave you. Jimin hated to think of it in such a way, “but that’s reality” – something you used to say quite often. 

He looked down at his phone, debating as to whether he should message you or not, but he had no time to ponder on his options as Jungkook came up behind him. 

“What are you doing, hyung?” The youngest asked, that toothy grin on display as he looked at Jimin through the mirror’s reflection. 

“Nothing.” Jimin replied in attempt to let Jungkook know he wasn’t in the mood to have a conversation. But the younger was completely unaware of this as he pulled up a chair to sit beside the elder. 

“Are you excited? I’m so excited to finally show ARMY all the dances we’ve been practicing.” Jungkook gushed, expecting Jimin to agree with him like he usually did. 

But Jimin turned to look at the younger with such ferocity, Jungkook’s smile immediately replaced itself with a look of shock, “I don’t want to talk about the show, I don’t want to talk about the fans and I don’t want to talk to you. Go.” Jimin snarled, turning back to his phone as Jungkook moved himself away from the agitated elder. 

Jungkook couldn’t get over the state of shock that had cloaked itself over him. Jimin had never once snapped at him before, even if he’d been annoying the life out him. He scratched the back of his neck, making his way towards Seokjin who was already fitted and sitting on the couch. 

After some time, everyone had been styled and dressed for the first performance of the Comeback Show. Although there was an hour or so until starting time, Hoseok insisted that everyone move into the corridor backstage to practice. 

And so, all seven boys went through the choreography to the best of their abilities in the small space, but it seemed Jimin was having trouble. 

“Jimin-ah, come here I’ll help you.” Hoseok suggested, moving away from the group and more towards the end of the hall. But Jimin didn’t move from where he stood, shaking his head slightly. 

“I need to do it myself, hyung. No one else can do it for me except myself.” Though Jimin spoke aloud, it seemed to Hoseok and the rest of the boys that the words spoken were meant for Jimin himself. 

“Ah, of course, we all know that Jiminie, but I’ll just give you a little help, that’s all.” Hoseok encouraged, a hand reaching out to place itself on Jimin’s shoulder, but the younger moved way. 

“Don’t call me that. That’s what Y/N calls me.” The younger spoke between gritted teeth, startling Hoseok who immediately withdrew his hand, nodding in understanding. 

“O-Okay, sorry, I didn’t know.” He stuttered, gulping loudly, “Look, Jimin-ah, just go through the first verse and chorus so I can see if there’s any small areas you need to fix up. That’s all I’m asking.” 

As those words left Hoseok’s lips, a tight knot that had wound itself around Jimin’s heart tightened violently, a fiery rage replacing his usual, calm demeanour. Flashbacks of the previous comebacks when he’d only had a proper meal once a week, countless nights spent in the white-walled practice room dancing the same routine over and over. Jimin had had enough. 

“Well you all ask too much of me! I try,” Jimin gasped, “I try so damn hard to please everyone else when I can’t even please myself! No matter how much much I starve myself, no matter how many hours I dance, even the nights I lie awake crying matter to nothing! It’s never enough - not for you, not for you,” He pointed to the rest of the boys, “never enough for ARMY and never enough for me.” Jimin’s bottom lip trembled dangerously, hot pools of tears that had been held in for far too long threatened to spill as he opened his mouth to speak once more, “Not ever.” 

Those two words were like salt water to a wound. So, very painful, but so very necessary. The tight cord that had been squeezing Jimin’s heart so tightly, had finally come undone, and though he felt relief within his chest as air passed through his lungs, he couldn’t keep up with the pace of his erratic heartbeat. 

He gulped loudly, the hot tears that rolled down his red cheeks the only sensation he felt; it was as if his entire body had gone numb, all feeling gone. Jimin’s head spun violently, as if he'd knocked himself against a brick wall over and over again. Every memory, every inkling of feeling was rushing to his head; pumping through his veins to meet their final destination in the center of his being - his mind. 

“Jimin-ah! Jimin!” Namjoon called out, but his voice echoed. The walls had closed in on Jimin, and his dark world had become even darker than the night sky he’d grown to love.

There were mere hours till showtime, and it seemed things would be okay for a little while. With Jimin in his arms, Namjoon had called for the medics on stand-by who’d rushed Jimin into the dressing room. “Anxiety attack”, they’d said. 

Namjoon looked over to Seokjin who stood meters away from the couch on which Jimin lay, his teeth nibbling at his bottom lip with what Namjoon could only assume was worry. Moving across the room from where he stood, the leader gently placed a tender hand on the eldest’s shoulder, offering a small smile. 

“Namjoon-ah,” Seokjin sighed, his eyes focussed on Jimin as he spoke, “I can’t be the only one who thinks there is something wrong with Jimin-ah. Tell me you think so too. What he said before...” His voice drifted off into the thick, tension-filled air of the dressing room as he turned back to Namjoon. 

“I know, hyung, I know. But right now, Jimin’s health needs to be put aside, as disgusting and as cruel as that sounds. This show; so much time has been put into it, all of those fans out there and the ones that are going to watch it have been waiting for us for a very long time, you know that.” 

Though the boys would never admit it aloud like Namjoon had, they knew his words spoke every bit of the truth. This event had been prepared for too long to have it be postponed. And Jimin’s health would mean every bit of the world to the boys; it did in this moment too, but the fans. 

“Anxiety attacks are not something new to us,” Namjoon explained, “We’ve had our fair share of them. Yes, what Jimin said was shocking to hear because he’d not the type to share his hardships with others. But there’s something bigger we need to attend to.” 

Deep within the back of their minds, the six of them could hear the raw hurt and pain within Jimin’s words. “I try so damn to please everyone else when I can’t even please myself.” Within the years that the boys had known Park Jimin, they’d never heard him utter a word of the true, deep feelings he felt. Not once. But the floodgates had been opened and the water was rushing through with no end in sight. Park Jimin was changing before their eyes and his mind was being opened up to them. 

Truly it was mind over body. 

[lovehaswonangelnumbers]

New Post has been published on https://lovehaswonangelnumbers.org/new-moon-february-2019-under-the-radar/

New Moon February 2019 ~ Under The Radar

New Moon February 2019 ~ Under The Radar

 BY MARINA

The new moon 4 February 2019, falls at 15º Aquarius decan 2. This new moon is the focal point of an eye aspect pattern which triggers one of the big aspects of the year Saturn sextile Neptune. It also aligns with Alnair, a watchful kind of star that falls in the constellation of the Crane.

The New Moon is quite a gipsy here in Aquarius decan 2 and feels quite isolated in the domicile of Saturn. Because of this, this new Moon will make us grow up very quickly if we have been clinging to redundant childhood behaviour patterns. The Moon in this decan forces us into emotional independence. This is a good position for the mind and imagination since Mercury rules this decan, but we may find it difficult to listen to the body at this time.

New Moon February 2019 Astrology

The New Moon February 2019 astrology tends to make us distrust our gut feelingsand instead rationalize every problem that comes to us. This can lead to health problems if we continually ignore the bodies’ aches and pains. There is a tendency to carry on stoically, pushing through the pain body in order to look after someone who appears to be more in need. Those touched by this new moon could find themselves playing the martyr in relationships. However, we can express our feelings very well through art and poetry at this new moon, even if actually talking about those feelings is difficult.

Austin Coppock calls Aquarius decan 2 ‘Heaven & Earth’ because it is about bridging the gap between them. This means that at this new moon we can sometimes feel in a state of limbo. “The natives strive to be emotionally independent but may suffer from a lack of support and feeling of alienation…. Many have a detached, philosophical disposition” he also agrees that “The lunar position supports the mind, but often at the cost of the body”[1]

New Moon February Star ~ Alnair

Not much is written about the constellation of the crane. It is very small, but its main star Alnair has a “retiring, active, proud, watchful, kind, idealistic and devoted nature, with a liking for astronomy.” There are many other stars in the crane in this decan and also one in the microscope, which brings out the geeky tendencies of this decan. The observing qualities make it fit very well into the eye aspect pattern particularly since it is right at the focal point of the triangle.

  NEW MOON MEANING

New Moons tend to make us want to plant new seeds and start afresh. But we are essentially working blind, however, without the illumination of the Sun’s wisdom. With a New Moon, we are working 100% on our instincts, so any decisions made at this time will be from habitual drives and infantile cravings which may not be in our best interests. We should listen to our body. The more we tune into our guts, the more we can tell the difference between a wounded ancestor who is crying out for attention and a genuine gut-feeling that is one’s trusted intuition.

Otherwise, discernment is needed, because the guidance of the Sun (the light of truth) is missing at the new Moon and one may easily be hoodwinked. A new moon can work powerful manifestation magic because the Moon is furthest from the earth and this frees the imagination from material limits. Thought-seeds planted at the New Moon will grow, so be careful what you wish for! A Solar Eclipse is like a really powerful reboot. The blinding light of the Sun is blocked for just enough time to get a new perspective. It is mind-altering and refreshing, but it can turn your world upside down too.

The quick summary version for those in a hurry!

New Moon February 2019 Aspects

Moon sextile Jupiter is a beautiful blossom of an aspect that seems to breed writers of song or word in particular since Jupiter rules publishing. The imagination is expansive and pioneering, inspired by overseas or inner travel. This aspect support roots though, no matter how far afield they voyage. Moon sextile Jupiter can fall into success by chance, being at the right place at the right time. There can be a dark side to this aspect, however, when the combination of Jupiter licentiousness and lunar bad habits can spill over into drug or sexual abuse, either given or received.

The New Moon February 2019 ~ Eye Aspect Pattern

This is one of the aspect patterns recognized by the Huber school; “The eye flexibility, inquisitiveness and alertness produce a state of concentrated attention. The area of this aspect figure, information is sought, everything is observed in detail, nothing escapes the ‘Eagle eye’.

The eye can also be compared with a radar screen, which rotates to take in all sides, scans the surroundings and records everything it comes across.” So this eye can work in two different ways. Focusing on a very small sphere of interest or with a wider lens as with the radar screen. The way that the eye works depends on what planets are involved. Here we have Neptune which is more diffuse, while Saturn is more discriminating.

Taking all factors into account then you could say this particular eye works more like the radar screen. The Hubers say “The aspect figure can pick up things that are not visible as if it was a rotating radar screen producing parapsychological abilities like clairvoyance, clairaudience or clairsentience, especially of spiritual planets are involved” Well, in this case, they certainly are. They go on to say “A deeper insight into motivations and life patterns can be gained. Several sides of all issues are taken in mainly unconsciously so that they see more than the normal perception allows; it is something like an “instinctive intuition” [2]

New Moon February 2019 Tarot Card ~ 6 Of Swords

The tarot card associated with this decan is the six of swords which is about moving on and finding a safe harbour. Karmically this suggests that you are moving away from more turbulent lifetimes to one that is more stable. There is also a feeling of being protected

“The Figure steering the boat in the Six of Swords is often symbolic of a Spirit Guide or Guardian Angel who stays close to you during times of trouble, comforting and guiding you through dark times.” ~ teachmetarot

This card may also indicate that this life is one of many travels where you are searching for your spiritual home because you are not quite rooted in that which was your place of birth. It is interesting that this card features water when there are so many aquatic and riverside animals associated with this decan of Aquarius.

Saturn Sextile Neptune Triggered!

The Moon falls on the midpoint of 2019’s important aspect, Saturn sextile Neptune.These two planets are also super powerful as they are placed in their own signs.“Saturn sextile Neptune is serious about religion and spirituality. This as an aspect that also takes organic, practical steps towards health and medicine. Ideally, this soft aspect can bring out the best in two planets that can be melancholic and deceptive otherwise. These planets work well when Saturn provides the structure and realism to the dreams of Neptune. It also makes one sensible about future plans and gives you the ability to defer gratification.

Those touched by this new moon should find the patience to see a project through to the very end, no matter what obstacles fall in your path. Patience is probably one of its biggest gifts. Saturn can turn Neptune into a bit of a martyr at times, but this sweet sextile can do much to avert the misuse of this energy. Creative projects have the much-needed self-sacrifice and prudence to have them crystalise into a form that is not self-indulgent or ego-driven.”

The 2nd Face Of Aquarius

“A man who looks like a king, who permits much to himself and abhors what he sees. This is a face of beauty and position, having what is desired, completion, detriment, and debility” ~ Picatrix

New Moon February 2019 ~ Summary

The themes of this new moon include travel by water but also doing that without falling under the radar. Of course, in recent years the subject of immigration has become one of the biggest issues of our times. In my opinion, this is how WW3 is being played out in the collective. Now, more than ever, there is a watchful eye on what the gaslighting media are up too with the realisation that the majority are propaganda machines and working against the ‘populists’ ie. Normal people.

The image of the face of Aquarius decan 2 speaks of a King who abhors what he sees. The verse is quite a confusing and contradictory one, much like what is occurring in the world today. A lot of red-pilled healers and gnostics now find themselves trying to share ‘forbidden’ information while also trying to cloak their words so they do not appear on the censor’s radar.

In our personal lives, this is a fantastic new moon to concentrate on projects that are dearest to our heart. We will have the willpower to see them through no matter how much the odds may feel stacked against us. Connecting to the intelligence of the Universe and getting your programmed-self out of the way of your higher-self will be easier at this time. We could look at this eye aspect pattern as functioning as a third eye.

Jo Dispensa in this book ‘Becoming Supernatural’ actually refers to this ‘eye’ as being the first eye which makes it more important, but I prefer the 3rd eye concept because of the number three and it being part of a triad. Like all triple gods and goddesses, it shows nature’s cycle and connects sky-eye to earth. This also fits quite well with Aquarius decan 2’s meaning and the name given to it by Austin Coppock. ‘Heaven & Earth’. Saturn sextile Neptune also does a great job of marrying mysticism with science too. At this new moon our body and intuition will speak to us very loudly, so listen to it!

New Moon February Healing Crystal ~ Nuummite

I chose Nuummite because it is great for forming that bridge between the 3rd eye and the grounding earth. ” Nuummite has very string wild-nature energies which gives it its fiercely protective powers…It is a great antidote to urban living that blunts the instincts and can bring over-reliance on technology… Hold in the center of your forehead to send a blast of nature energy down towards your feet, and it will bounce up again” [3]

“Nuummite, the Sorcerer’s Stone, draws from the fiery energies of ancient Earth and combines with the elements of Storm. Black as midnight shadows on moonlit water, this talisman shimmers with mystical gold light, lifting the murky to see what lies beneath. It is a stone of personal magic, increasing the frequency of synchronicities and luck, clairvoyance and intuition, and for those evolved enough to work with its intensity, it allows for journeying deep into the personal psyche, offering a clear vision of one’s true Self. It helps to release energies trapped in the subconscious and brings the gift of inner power, healing, and self-mastery.” ~ crystalvaults.com

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[caveartfair]

How Artists Are Reimagining the Way We Bury the Dead

Caitlin Doughty, founder of The Order of the Good Death. Photo by The Order of the Good Death via Facebook.

Caitlin Doughty is redecorating her mortuary. “Rose lighting is always a nice touch,” the author, mortician, and death-positive activist tells me. “The aesthetic is that you're in a living room but not your grandma’s living room from the 1950s—it’s, like, a cool person’s living room.”

Doughty is well-versed in the aesthetics of death. She began working in crematories at age 22, wrote a best-selling memoir about her mortuary education called Smoke Gets in Your Eyes (2015), and now runs a non-profit funeral home in Los Angeles. Her just-released book From Here to Eternity: Traveling the World to Find the Good Death, is a necro-travelogue of sorts, chronicling death rituals from rural Colorado to bustling Tokyo. She’s an educator whose popular YouTube series “Ask A Mortician” answers questions from viewers like, “Can the dead donate blood?” or, “Do crows have funerals?” With her trademark mixture of simple explanations deadpan wit, Doughty wants us all to become a little more death-literate.

When Doughty founded the Order of the Good Death, an organization of like-minded, death-positive folks from from morticians to medical historians, she knew immediately that artists and designers should be closely involved. “Nobody’s going to get starry-eyed about things like burial law reform or deregulating the funeral industry,” she notes wryly, “but they are going to be inspired by the idea that they might want to be buried in a mushroom suit.”

Courtesy of Coeio.

Much of our fear arises from the fact that death is mysterious. Although the fear of death is more or less universal, Americans’ fear of dead bodies is uncommonly intense. Even practices that are common in other cultures—such as when a family washes and prepares a loved one’s body for burial—are unfamiliar, even alarming to many Americans, who generally leave these jobs to professionals.

In From Here to Eternity, Doughty explains that traditional burial in the U.S. usually means embalming the body, artificially preserving it with a combination of formaldehyde and other chemicals. This process, which requires training and a license, takes place out of sight; the deceased person’s family is rarely involved. Morticians apply heavy makeup and often make cosmetic adjustments with glue and pins so that the body resembles a living person as closely as possible, further alienating us from the reality of death.

For the American funeral industry a beautiful death means an embalmed and cosmetized body, but for Doughty, this narrow aesthetic ideal contributes to our collective death-phobia. “They’ve gotten locked into one idea of beauty that means chemically treating the body, putting makeup on it, and putting it in a big casket,” she notes. “A lot of people are deeply creeped out by that. They leave the wake feeling like they haven't really addressed their grief.”

Prototype for garments for the grave. Courtesy of Pia Interlandi.

But this homogenous approach is beginning to shift, a change spurred on by the art and design contingent of the Order of the Good Death, and an increasing public interest in natural or “green” burials (that’s when the unembalmed body is laid to rest in a biodegradable shroud or wooden casket and interred directly in the ground, not a metal-lined vault). According to a Funeral and Memorial Information Council study, in 2015, 64% of adults over 40 expressed interest in green funeral options, compared with 43% five years before.

Order member and architect Katrina Spade’s Urban Death Project, a nonprofit that researched  turning dead bodies into compost, an ambitious endeavor that puts alternatives to conventional burial in the spotlight. The process, which began as Spade’s master’s thesis, is currently being tested and refined by the Seattle-based architect and her team. The underlying process is similar how leaves and other organic materials decompose on the forest floor: nitrogen, carbon, and a bit of moisture break the body down, turning it into rich soil. At the end of the four- to six-week process the family of the deceased will be able to collect the soil and even use it to plant a garden.

As Doughty traveled the world researching From Here to Eternity, she was rarely alone. Tourists are drawn to the same sites, festivals, and even private funerals, sometimes even running up to a casket to snap a picture. Is that lure merely a case of morbid curiosity? Doughty concedes that this could be a factor, but quickly adds, “I think the deeper underlying attraction is wanting to see death as it really is. People don’t want a box of ashes handed back to them, they want to see vultures tearing the flesh from the body.”

Although we’re probably not all jonesing for our own Tibetan sky burial, we do want to understand the reality of death. People also miss the rituals and rites that help us to process our grief. “There’s this unplaceable longing for the death rituals of the past and the connection they used to have with the dead,” Doughty says. “Do I like that tourists are going around interrupting other people’s death rituals? No, it’s awful. But I do have sympathy for that longing.”

Pia Interlandi, Shroud, 2011. Courtesy of Pia Interlandi.

Pia Interlandi, Body Moulds, Series 1-Reapplied, 2008. Courtesy of Pia Interlandi.

Pia Interlandi’s bespoke burial clothing is helping to rebuild those lost connections. The Australian designer’s work allows families to easily perform the meaningful rituals of preparing the dead body for burial, rather than consigning them to a professional.

As a student, the Order of the Good Death member experimented with dissolvable textiles, which gorgeously suggested the body’s own tendency to disintegrate, and eventually disappear, after death. Her explorations of clothing and mortality began as a metaphor. But when her grandfather died, she helped her relatives dress his body in his funeral suit; the experience sent her research in a more practical direction. Interlandi saw how important the ritual was for her family—and also how challenging it is to dress a dead person in clothes designed for the living.

In 2012 she debuted a collection of bespoke clothing designed for cremation or burial. Made from ivory-colored silk, cotton, and hemp, without any metal zippers, plastic buttons, or synthetic fabrics, the garments are completely biodegradable. The overall effect, including delicate silk pockets for the hands and feet, is reminiscent of a beekeeper who has fallen asleep wearing Comme de Garçons.

A less fashion-forward, but still innovative alternative is the Infinity Burial Suit. The suit went viral after the artist and entrepreneur Jae Rhim Lee wore it while she delivered a TED talk about the eco-friendly design. Created by Lee in collaboration with fashion designer Daniel Silverstein, the suit’s current design resembles a matching set of children’s pajamas, and is made from mushrooms and other microorganisms. The mushrooms grow and consume the body as it decomposes, speeding the decomposition process, neutralizing the body’s toxins and leaving nothing but clean soil where plants can grow.

Jae Rhim Lee’s TED Talk on the Inifinity Burial Suit. Courtesy of Coeio.

The suit has negligible environmental impact and at $1,500 costs a fraction of a conventional burial, which will typically set you back between $8,000–$10,000 in the U.S. Lee’s company Coeio sells the mushroom suit as well as a mushroom burial shroud. You can even buy a mushroom suit for your dog.

There’s a growing interest in the alternative approaches advanced by these artists and designers. Design innovations in the field are spotlighted on Facebook and eagerly covered in Dwell or on Buzzfeed. Artists and designers can eventually the wider culture by making death a normal part of life, not a terrifying specter.

For Doughty, even just talking about death is a step forward, and artists are often the first ones to take it. “They inspire conversation—and really shareable pieces for the internet,” she explains. “Artists inspire people’s sense of wonder around death and what is possible.”

—Ariela Gittlen

from Artsy News