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emptysatellite · 3 years

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the city's our until the fall

Ao3

Narcissa started smoking cigarettes the summer that Andromeda was kicked out, the summer between her sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts.

She would sit in the meadow near her family’s manor, grey smoke pouring from her parted lips as she took deep breaths out. Usually, hot tears would stream down her cheeks as she overheard her sister and parents’ fight, which would always result in cruel words and hexes towards Andromeda.

“I hate the way you treat people you think are lesser than you! It’s not right!”

“We don’t think they’re lesser than us, Andromeda, we know they’re lesser than us. We treat them the way they deserve to be treated!”

“No one deserves to be treated horribly!”

“Mudbloods do! They will be the downfall of the Wizarding World!”

“No!”

Finally, one evening after sunset, Narcissa had successfully climbed out of her window to light a cigarette or two in the meadow and returned to see everything changed.

Andromeda had stayed locked in her bedroom with no interruptions all day but, after supper, Cygnus and Druella threw open the door, demanding answers.

“I finally know what this defiance is about that stupid Mudblood boy from Hufflepuff!”

“No, no it’s not!”

“It must be. Bellatrix told your mother and I all about him.”

“No, that’s not true! There is no boy!”

“Don’t lie, Andromeda, what have we told you about lying?”

A little before midnight, Narcissa, who had surprisingly not heard any of the argument that evening, pulled herself up the stone wall and through her window. She landed on the wooden flooring with a thud, looking up to see her parents standing there, Druella tapping her heel impatiently.

“Where have you been?” her mother demanded, blue eyes cold.

“I ―” started Narcissa, scrambling to her feet.

“Never mind that,” Cygnus waved a hand dismissively, “we’ll deal with your sneaking about later. For now, we must talk about your sister.”

“Bellatrix?” the girl asked instinctively. Bellatrix was always her parents’ favorite; the perfect example of a pureblooded daughter, graduated with high grades at Hogwarts but destined to become Voldemort’s right-hand witch in the coming years.

“No,” Druella shook her head. “Andromeda.”

“You see, Flower,” explained Cygnus, using Narcissa’s childhood nickname, “Andromeda wasn’t always telling us the truth. She was―is―a Mudblood apologist and wants to marry one. She believes that they are the same as us and that Pureblood society should be abolished.”

Narcissa pretended to be shocked, although she already knew of Andromeda’s stance on Muggleborn rights. “I cannot believe her.”

“We can hardly wrap our heads around it, too,” said Druella. “Your father and I told your sister that she is no longer welcome in this household, unless she gives up this progressive nonsense. She chose to leave. And, because of that, you are not to try to contact her.

“We understand how close you and Andromeda were when you were young girls, but she’s changed since then, Flower. She’s not the same sister you knew. If you do contact her, and your father and I find out, you will be asked to make the same choice of her,” she finished. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mother, I understand,” nodded Narcissa.

“Good,” Cygnus kissed the forehead of his youngest daughter before turning on his heel and stalking out of the pink-painted bedroom.

“You’re a good girl, Flower. You’d never let a Mudblood into your heart,” said Druella, also kissing Narcissa’s head before leaving. “Don’t go to bed too late. The Malfoy’s are coming over for morning tea tomorrow.”

Silent tears fell from her eyes as her mother closed the mahogany door.

“But I already have let a Muggleborn into my heart,” Narcissa whispered to no one in particular, unable to say the offensive slur out loud.

Instead of going to bed as Druella asked, she crept back outside and down the wall to the meadow, where everything made sense, everything was real.

Narcissa laid in a patch of wildflower and thought about Lily Evans.

They’d met in first year, Severus introducing them. Lily and Severus had been close as children and Narcissa and Severus were fast friends since the Sorting ceremony.

Lily had been nervous around Narcissa at first, slightly cowering behind Severus every time they all hung out, in a very un-Gryffindor way. But by the beginning of second year, Lily was more comfortable around Narcissa, going out of her way to talk to her in between and during classes. Eventually, they’d grown closer to one another than they’d ever been with Severus, running off to the Forbidden Forest to explore the wide terrains when bored on the weekends.

“Is it hard being a Muggleborn, Lily?”

“Yeah, all the time. Other people like calling me names and jinxing me, but it’s not as bad having you and Severus as friends.”

“You’re my closest friend, Lily, do you know that?”

“Yeah, I know. You’re my closest friend too, Cissa.”

“Cissa?”

“I think it’s a cute nickname. What do you think?”

“I… like it. Thank you.”

At the end of fifth year, when Severus had called Lily that horrific word and she cut him out of her life, Narcissa followed suit.

“You can’t believe that I actually meant to call Lily a ‘Mudblood’. It was a heat of the moment thing that just slipped out!”

“How do you accidentally call someone that word, Severus! It’s absolutely disgusting!”

“She’s my best friend! And she was frustrating me―ow, Narcissa! You can’t just hit me!”

“You are to never go near her again, you hear? There are no excuses for what you’ve done; you know how she feels about this extremism you’re getting into and to call her that word because you were angry at her for calling out your shit.”

Narcissa comforted Lily the summer between their fifth and sixth years via letters sent by owls and, by the time they were back at school in September, their friendship was strengthened at a new level.

They told each other everything, from silly school gossip to family troubles. They read books to one another and told jokes and sang both Muggle and witchy songs alike.

Lily had been rambling about the rights of merpeople when Narcissa realized she liked Lily, no, loved Lily more than a best friend should. So, like any curious individual did, she pulled the redhead close, interlocking their lips.

Lily didn’t hesitate; she kissed Narcissa back immediately.

Narcissa sighed, taking a drag of her cigarette. Life was so much better at Hogwarts, where Lily was. Luckily, there were only a few more weeks of summer holiday…

***

“We’re going to be late to class.”

“Fuck class. This matters more than class.”

“ Narcissa Alexandria Black .”

Narcissa pulled away from her girlfriend, giving Lily a feigned expression of pain. “Full name? Ouch, darling, that stings.”

The redhead threw her head back in laughter. “You have a beautiful name, Cissa.”

“Everyone in my House called me a narcissist for my first three years at Hogwarts.”

“But can you really blame them for that horrible nickname? You were quite self-absorbed.”

“Oi,” Narcissa lightly slapped Lily’s shoulder.

“Hey, I said that you were self-absorbed. Past tense,” she reasoned. “You’re not anymore, of course. Now, you’re the perfect mix between confident and kind. The right amount of cockiness so no one thinks you're a bitch.”

“Aw, you’re the sweetest.”

“I try,” Lily grinned, bright eyes sparkling from joy. She hopped off the sink counter, brushing her skirt in a useless attempt to straighten it. “We really should start towards Slughorn’s class. It’ll take us at least five minutes to walk there and we still have to split up so no one sees us and―”

“Lily Juniper Evans,” Narcissa put her hands on Lily’s shoulders, towering over the shorter Gryffindor, although still making perfect eye contact. Crystal blue met jade green.

Despite Lily’s protests of ‘wow, look who’s using full names now!’ Narcissa continued on. “Don’t stress out,” she said, “we’ll get to Potions on time. Your reputation as the most wonderful Head Girl to ever grace Hogwarts’ hallowed halls will remain spiffy.”

“‘Spiffy,’” repeated Lily with a slight snort. “That’s a funny word, don’t you think? A real debutante would use that.”

She rolled her eyes. “I was a real debutante ― thank you very much ―and I was really fucking good at it.”

“How can someone be good at being a debutante?”

“I’m done with this chitter-chatter, Evans, let’s go to class or I’ll dock you points.”

“You’ll dock me? No way! I’ll dock you points.”

“Sure, you will, darling.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Love you, Lils.”

“Love you more, Cissa.”

While on their way to Potions, the two decided that Lily would be the first one to walk into the classroom and that Narcissa would be five minutes late.

“Are you sure you don’t mind being late to class?” Lily stopped dead in her tracks, furrowing her eyebrows.

“I’m sure, I don’t mind,” replied Narcissa.

And she really didn’t; Slughorn had always been a good teacher, yes, and Narcissa had always been a good student in Potions. She just never had any interest and was all for missing part of class; Slughorn would never give one of his most talented students a detention, anyways.

“Come on, Evans, it's seventh year,” James whined, running a hand through his unruly curls, “just give me a chance. One date, that’s all I’m asking for.”

Lily looked up from the potion she was stirring, to examine her table partner with a raised eyebrow. She tilted her head and tapped her chin with her free hands, a sorry attempt to appear deep in thought. “No,” she said at last.

James groaned, hanging his head. “Why not?”

“Well, for starters, you’re much too desperate.”

His mouth hung open from shock. “Too desperate?” he demanded.

“Yes; you’ve asked me out, Merlin, how many times? At least ten times within the past two months. It’s a little obsessive, if you ask me,” explained Lily, calmly, flipping through pages in her N.E.W.T.-level Potions textbook. “And, secondly, you’re Head Boy. We already have a professional relationship; we couldn’t risk that by going out romantically.”

“So,” James replied, “are you telling me that you’d go out with me if I weren’t Head Boy? Because I’ll go to Dumbledore right now―”

“No, I’m not going out with you because you're desperate,” she said, looking up from her textbook. “The thing about Head Boy is just an added reason. Although, I would say it’s very valid. Besides, I’m already with someone else.”

James sputtered, at a complete loss for words. “But―I―who―what did you say?”

Lily’s gaze flickered towards Narcissa, who was working alongside Lucius Malfoy at the far end of the classroom, for a split second. She focused back on James. “You heard me right.”

“This has completely rocked my world,” he sat down on a stool, gripping the worktable for support.

“Sorry, mate,” Lily brushed a hand over his shoulder, teasingly, before moving it to pick up a knife. “But can you cut this root for me? Cheers.”

James took the knife and started dicing the roots, while Lily jotted notes down on a small page of parchment.

She glanced up for a brief moment to see Narcissa staring at her. Lily gave a soft smile, which Narcissa returned immediately, before turning her head towards Lucius, who had demanded very loudly for Narcissa to fetch some extra materials. Lily kept her eyes on her girlfriend, eyes following her body all the way to the material cabinets.

“Damn, if you’re gonna break my heart, Evans, you could at least help me with this potion,” James’ scratchy voice broke Lily’s trance.

She spun towards her potions partner, a fake smile plastered in place of her real one. “Of course,” she snapped, picking up the textbook to read off the direction for the rest of the potion.

***

Narcissa was smoking in an abandoned corridor, completely in the dark. She liked it that way, it reminded her of home. It was ten minutes after curfew and Lily passed by, her wand lighting the way forward to catch any students out of bed.

“That was quite a show Potter gave today,” she grabbed Lily’s wrist, pulling her close.

“Merlin, Cissy, you scared the shit out of me,” Lily dropped her wand in shock, moving her free hand to her chest in an attempt to slow her increasing heart rate.

“Sorry,” the Slytherin laughed, “but, still, Potter was acting more lovesick than usual.”

She groaned. “I know… it was so embarrassing.”

Narcissa hummed, brushing a stray lock of hair behind Lily’s ear. “I thought it was cute.”

“Cute? Potter?”

“No, not Potter,” she rolled her eyes. “Just how infatuated he is with you―”

“More like obsessed with me―”

“I understand where he’s coming from.”

Although Lily’s pale cheeks darkened with a rose-pink blush, she responded confidently, voice even. “Oh, really?”

“Uh-huh. Who wouldn’t be infatuated with you? You’re a beautiful person―inside and out―have a magnificent personality, and are so fucking witty and intelligent.”

Lily’s composure broke and she giggled, high pitched and nervous, cheeks turning an even darker, beet red shade. “Thank you,” she said at last.

“You don’t have to thank me, I was just pointing out the facts,” Narcissa cupped Lily’s face in her hands, fingers brushing softly over her lips.

Putting her hands on Narcissa’s waist, Lily lightly tugged the blonde closer to her, locking lips with a breath.

“You should stop smoking,” Lily whispered. “It’ll kill you.”

“I’ll quit,” said Narcissa, “just for you, my love.”

She quit because the taste of Lily’s lips on hers were softer, sweeter than anything Narcissa ever experienced; she quit smoking by the end of seventh year.

#narcissa black #lily evans #hp

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phoebehalliwell · 4 years

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How about WMC all getting into the food game? Like Wyatt doesn't start anything himself but he loves working at Halliwell's, Chris and Piper co-open a little homey lunch cafe called Penny's. And Mel. PJ, and Kat open a queer bookstore/coffee shop that also sells magical ingredients/potions/spells

you know how like like working with your hands is meditation like knitting and stuff all that is really recommended for like. mental health. i think the halliwell kids get that through like mise en place like chris especially like you give a box of daikon and say make matchsticks and he’s like fuckin in the zone his Most Zen State (and of course bc he’s also him with like whatevers going on in his damaged little brain with magic he also hones his knife skills telekinetically something i think neither wyatt nor melinda does). i think melinda and wyatt would definitely be more into baking that cooking just because (as stated somewhere previously on this blog) i think melinda is like a shade ocd so like. in baking with the precise measurements and the specific steps and all that and just like. everything being an exact science and going exactly how you think it will like you can control it and anticipate it and if u follow it to the letter than wallah baked good : ) (which is also how melinda goes about potion making imo like again its this kind of belief that if everything isn’t organized or like you know whatever then something will go horribly wrong and as she practices actual magic she feels like this is a very accurate belief like chris and even wyatt will like eyeball stuff like ehh whatever lord the way the mitchells make potions damn near gives her a heart attack she’s just like. stop. there is an order!! u gotta do it by the this by the that don’t just throw things in willy nilly!!!) so yeah i think melinda likes baking because it’s like low stakes potion making. i think she can also cook, but she’s not a chef. she’s not gonna be visionary and go off book she’s no remy ratatouille but she knows how to mimic piper down the the smallest movements and when she cooks it’s the bomb dot com. i think wyatt also likes baking i don’t think he’s anything like melinda. i think i’ve said this before i think wyatt like. keeps trying to make bread. like he keeps trying to make sourdough bread and it never really goes right but like he’s gonna keep trying. i also don’t think wyatt is the best chef i think chris is arguably a better cook than wyatt but this boy can meal plan like nobody’s business. for starters, given his craft and then also just like who he is as a person (gay) he’s really into plant and the like and is super attune to what’s season this boy Loves i mean he fuckin loves his farmer’s markets all the vendors know him by name he asks them about their families blah blah blah chris can’t even remember the names of like. the farms. he’s like yeah i think i got this beef from stonehenge? he recognizes them visually alright and he knows their geographical location and he can even recognize some of the faces but just like. he cannot tell you shit. but back to wyatt i think wyatt definitely ends up having a heavy hand in producing the menus at halliwell’s which i do think are like these kind of ever changing season menus where it’s kind of like the whole family gets together to plan it but for the most part it’s wyatt and piper doing the strategizing with chris contributing and melinda and leo just sitting there like yum : ) that sounds good : ) that also sounds good : ) that one? it also sounds good! : ) bless their heart they cannot help menu plan but they will certainly eat all of that food.

i feel like i could totally see chris opening his own restaurant if that were the path he were to go down however i would kinda love to see the restaurant be a collaboration between wyatt and chris (i also think bianca could come on board as more of the business side i think she’d kick ass at that) just like. i would like to see it. and mel pj and kat all having their own queer magical cafe!! i love. i feel like pj is definitely going to control the aesthetic of this cafe the most like once it gets to valentines day?? don’t even get me started. to the nines. balls to the wall. the full nine yards. even just like local things like if the warriors or giants or something (i guess we can invite the niners bc they’re “san francisco” but like. they’re santa clara. oh i forgot the a’s lmao.) when some local team wins a championship or whatever pj goes all out celebrating actually i’m sure she goes so all out that i wouldn’t be surprised if their little cafe had like a room you could rent out for parties kind of like tea parties et cetera that pj really just like. is the visionary behind. i think melinda would probably be the books and then also a baker but as previously established she’s very by the book she’s not the wild card so it’s kat who’s the one who gets real weird with it and does all of their experimental recipes. i also think it could be nice if this was like y’know like a brunch morning cafe that closed at like three or four then on certain days of the week open again from like 7 to 9 for assorted witchy activities. paige makings custom paintings of the major arcana and that’s the art on the walls of the cafe.

#literally so cute #charmed #next gen #wyatt halliwell #chris halliwell #melinda halliwell #pj halliwell #kat mitchell #charmed next generation #💌

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the-fiction-witch · 4 years

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Play Time

REAL LIFE: SCANDAL COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: FUNNY

"What the fuck has my Channel become?" Y/n asks behind the camera as Thomas sat in his tall actors chair with Newt written on the back of it, he leant on the table drinking from a bottle of cheap vodka

"Us getting drunk and making poor decisions" He answers

"Yes. It is" she laughs sitting beside him "Do you remember what w are doing?"

"no!"

"Why not?"

"You didn't tell me" "Yes I did I text you" "I only read up to come over and get drunk with me"

"Okay so what happened is I went to a toy store and basically anything that was on the shelf that was like a mystery surprise thing I grabbed and now we are drunk and going to look at them" she explained

"why drunk though?"

"Because I thought that we pretty much before children when we are drunk so... then we are the target audience"

"Ages five and up. And very drunk adults" He laughs

"Exactly" she smiled "how drunk are we?"

"Uhhh four beers, a bottle of rose, two little like travel whiskeys and this much of a vodka" He says showing the vodka bottle

"wanna see what's first?"

"Yes! Because I was told there was one bought especially for me?"

"There is" she smiled grabbing something "first the things that infuriate me so very much" she says throwing a Lol ball across the table

"Oohh these things that make you so very mad"

"they do, Becuase... Plastic waste"

"did you just pick one at random or did you get like a witchy feeling about the one you picked?" he asks

"No I just grabbed one off the shelf and the lady at the till thought I was crazy for spending. No joke over fifty pounds in a toy store this morning"

"May I open it"

"you wanna open it?"

"I have been given a toy, I wanna open it. I don't like the mystery" He says

"Okay Thomas you can open this one" she laughs

after five minuets of destroying plastic there was a horrifying glittering doll

"I hate this so very much" He answered

"do you not like it?"

"No, it's a naked child, with very inappropriate clothing I would not like a child wear this outfit, its glittery as all hell. the plastic make me so sad Because its so much waste for such a shit thing"

"and now you see why I hate them

"I do. I understand now and I will join you in this hatred"

"It is not dolphin friendly"

"No it is not! not dolphin friendly. and I don't wanna hurt the dolphins"

"So out of five uuuhhh play times how many play times do you give it?"

"Minus one. it has angered me" He says

"Minus one. first one and we are already in the negatives"

"what's next?"

"Pokémon"

"woo! Pokémon"

"Its a little terrarium with a Pokémon in it and we don't know who we will get"

"who can we get?"

"Uhhh... Just the Eveelutions" she says

"Ohhh, awww they're so sleepy" He says "You can open this one. Because you will get more joy from this then I will"

"You know me so well Thomas" she smiled taking the box and ripping it open "See Japan! they understand the minimal plastic needed for these items" she explained

"You and fucking plastic. God damn hippie"

"You are also a hippie"

"I am, partly because I feel bad for the turtles and the dolphins and seals, you showed me that video of the turtle with the straw up his nose and I was just as hippie as you"

"That video has turned so many people"

"It has, I had a sad time though" he says

"what happened? tell the story while I construct this toy"

"I went to a family wedding my cousin was getting married, and I ended up at some point sat chatting to my eldest cousins little girl, and she sat down with me in her little dress and she said 'Tommy do you know what the most eivl thing in the world is?"

"Ohhh child"

"Yeah, the thing is you have to be so careful when a child asks you that"

"Becuase your just like the things I could tell you little girl"

"The things you don't know"

"Ohh child you don't know"

"You don't know child. Ohhh baby there are things I could say to you that would ruin your whole life." He says "So obviously I said nothing and went No no what's the most evil thing"

"what did she say?"

"she just looked me dead in the eye and said. Plastic"

"Plastic?"

"Yeah, and she like sat talking to me for like a good twenty minuets about plastic waste, waste ending up in the oceans, seal life destruction, Massive company's polluting, Green house gases, fossil fuels, House hold carbon footprints"

"... I wanna hang out with her"

"But all of this is coming out of a fucking adorable little blonde five year old, in this cute little pink flower girl dress"

"Why was she so mad? I mean I love the Ephusiamum and I adore that she's mad but... how did this happen?"

"I don't know, but somehow she knows. and she is pissed."

"Little girl gonna come curb step a bitch if you don't think about the turtles" she laughs "Is this the same little girl who found out about Santa?"

"Yes!"

"Ooohh I saw that. that was horrific. who was it who told her it was your uncle wasn't it?"

"Yeah, he let it slip one Christmas eve that Santa wasn't real and... he said that to a four year old."

"It didn't go well"

"Who did you get?"

"Normal Pre evolved eve"

"Awww that's cute though I like that." He smiled "Evee's sleeping on a little pillow"

"It is cute, I will point out this was the second cheapest thing today"

"I want more of these"

"They make more with like regular Pokémon, I've seen a bunch with like the various game starters"

"I could get a scorebunny"

"You could. You love that dam bunny"

"I do, he is my boy"

"I have not yet found one with cubchoo, But I did see a mimiku and I also love him" "You do, because you feel bad for him"

"Next before this is just a video of us looking at Pokémon"

"Yeah we should, what's next?"

"We have a tiny Minecraft figure"

"Tiny Minecraft man, Or lady"

"Or animal. I just noticed there is animals too"

"Ooohh. Can I get a bee? I like the bee's?"

"No.. you can get a horse though"

"I don't wanna horse" he whines

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astrognossienne · 6 years

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lilith

If you’re a woman, this is your dark, sexual and uncompromising side that represents who you are to your core; if you’re a man, you’ll be hopelessly attracted to women with these traits. For example, If a man has Lilith in Aries, he’ll be attracted to women who take charge and are brash and ballsy.

*portrait of Erzsébet Báthory

lilith in aries: fiercely independent; probably won’t win many popularity contests, defensive, dominant in the bedroom, frank when it comes to sex and other hot-button issues, most likely into bdsm, wants excitement, may go for the fake plastic hollywood look a-la Pamela Anderson, uncompromising feminine warrior

lilith in taurus: an outlier who uses her body for profit if need be, instinctual, libidinous and gutsy, slutty and very good in the bedroom, has an intense sexual appetite and uses sex for relaxation, cash rules everything around her, greedy, ambitious, natural, original

lilith in gemini: juicy, witty, and wise, supremely articulate and charming, appeals highly to the opposite sex, promiscuous, independent and in control, strings people along, a siren who can talk her way into positions of power as well as anyone’s bed, cunning linguists

lilith in cancer: nastily manipulative, independent, compulsively seductive, wild hearts, sex raises their intuitive awareness and lunar ferocity, fiercely headstrong, beautiful, eccentric, radical, controversial, outwardly angelic but inwardly fiendish

lilith in leo: has a repulsive need to be more than human, massively appealing, strong and demanding, frank, passions rule their better judgment, sexually magnetic and uses sex to make people love them, has flamboyant love affairs, charismatic, the fierce lioness

lilith in virgo: insouciant, fiercely intellectual, controlling, makes practical sexual arrangements, unapologetic about her sexuality, most likely to be a porn star, bright, not too popular with their peers, makes their way in life through their wits, the madonna/whore

lilith in libra: what stevie sang about in “rhiannon”, brilliant and psychologically nuanced, outwits everyone smoothly and effortlessly, classy, you never know what’s real with them, worldly, loves the good life, boldly intolerant of unfairness, sexual adventurers, glamorous, twisted elegance

lilith in scorpio: the most sexual, stunningly transformative, bold, troubled and haunted by their own demons, vicious, abysmally vengeful, petty, shit starters, outspoken, very powerful, intense, can’t be bothered with small minds, most likely to be homewreckers, agent provocateurs

lilith in sagittarius: does whatever they want, has a strong need for sex with intellectually stimulating individuals, most likely to have a lover in every port, low-key loves chaos, fiercely carefree, shapeshifters, free with their ideas, their bodies and their affections

lilith in capricorn: interested in sexual power as well as achieving in business, the best revenge is their success, scrappy, has a lot to prove, the most controlling, marble and red lips, plucky, savage, the female james bond, do not fuck with her money or her time

lilith in aquarius: game changers, a willful free spirit, original thinkers, weird, their subversiveness has a massive influence on others, scandalous, has an amazingly varied sex life, doesn’t conform to the mould of female sexuality, fiercely individualistic and unique, makes their own rules

lilith in pisces: lives in alternate dimensions, witchy, bitches who believe their own myth, cunningly mystical, the most likely to be into daddy kink, drama queens, reinvents themselves, supremely sensual, black magic women

#lilith #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #mine #i think female's obsession with lilith is as a feminist symbol to emasculate men really #oh well here’s more shit on this incresingly tired subject #1k

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andromedarune · 4 years

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For the pokeball ask: love ball and heavy ball please!

Yay, another~! Thanks for sending this, ‘cause I’m bored and can’t shut up, teehee~!

Love Ball (fav PKMN)

Oh, lord, this one is another toughie. So, I’ll just do what I did for fav games and go down the list of my top 3′s bc... shut up.

NON-LEGENDARIES

1- Infernape. While I had other starters before him, Infie was the one who really sparked my passion for fire-types. He inspired countless artwork, fanfiction, and daydreams that all centered around my trainersona’s (at the time, I used to dub all my trainers under either “Summer” or “Alexis” bc my real name didn’t fit, lolol) adventures in the Sinnoh region. If I were Leon, he’d be my Charizard - Infie was my pride and joy, and I rarely ever battled without him.

2 - Delphox. Delphox, as I mentioned earlier, was the breath of fresh air for a lot of fire-type fans thanks to its break from the routine in typing. I love Delphox’s design, as well - I had always been a fan of the occult and witchy stuff (wonder why, lol), so when I first saw Dephox’s final evolution, I literally squealed. A fire-psychic type that looked like a witch, complete with a flaming wand and a devious look about it. Obviously we were meant to be. Also, funny enough, Delphox was my first female starter, gotten entirely by chance the first time I booted up the game. How fun!

3 - Vaporeon. Fans of Whiplash, y’all probably saw this coming. Not only is Vaporeon adorable in design, but they are a total powerhouse to use in battles, generally boasting a respectable special attack and killer HP to boot. I used to entertain the daydream of swimming in my pool with my Vaporeon swimming alongside me, ready to save me if I started to drown (which happened a lot). A lot of nostalgia with this Pokemon, as well, as evidenced by my wonderful Vaporeon story I mentioned earlier in a previous ask.

LEGENDARIES

Giratina. Because it’s literally Satan and how fucking metal is that shit??? I loved everything about the Distortion World - the mechanics, the design, the story - OOF, Pokemon went off with that shit. And Giratina is such a badass-looking legendary, looking so regal and so feral at the same time. It was also my favorite dragon-type for a long time, too, until I found a Goomy in XY and my heart melted faster than ice cubes on California concrete.

Heavy Ball (least fav PKMN)

Kricketune. Just. If you know, YOU KNOW.

I’d rather deal with a legion of Zubats, Tentacool, and Bidoofs than ever willingly hear that dreaded DELELELE-dooOOOOWOP! ever again. I literally heard that shit in my nightmares. NO.

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violetiine · 2 years

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‘look at all this witchy shit.’ - brook

fear street starters

Violet's gaze travelled around the room, crystals and books and symbols dotted around so that she didn't know where to look first. Her hand reached out instinctively to touch a orbed crystal hanging from a string, letting it fall back and forth as its rays created rainbows against the wall.

"Do you think its real witch stuff or fake shit?"

#tornvoid #; 𝕨𝕖'𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕤 ( 𝕣𝕖𝕡𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕤 )

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candlmas · 6 years

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/ @scarwritten ♡ ’ d !

“ 𝐇𝐄𝐘, 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓, 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒. My life has always been a sad emotion, don’t feel sorry for me. ”

#scarwritten #* THIS IS THAT REAL WITCHY SHIT ◞ » ❪ STARTER. ❫#VIOLENT UWU

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thesundowncrew · 6 years

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The Sundown Crew’s rp plotting cheat-sheet

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

Mun name: Dee OOC Contact: Tumblr IM

Who the heck is/are my muse(s) anyway:

In the main crew, we have Sammy, a nerdy ghoul boi who is the embodiment of Samhain (of the Celtic calendar) and Guardian of the Veil; Nightshade, his soul-sister and cat-turned-human witchy familiar; and last but not least Axel, the sadistic, cannibal crow mythos who’s only interested in revenge and fucking people (up).

They’re all super old and supernatural and 2/3 are always happy to meet new people!

Points of interest:

Samhain & Nightshade: guarding the Veil, keeping the balance, protecting innocent humans and mythos alike, adventuring and exploring new places, meeting people and learning new things. Sammy enjoys reading, treasure-hunting and getting lost in his research. Nightshade enjoys cooking, eating, listening to music, and keeping up with the latest memes.

Axel: looking for the biggest, baddest, toughest rivals he can fight to the death with, enjoys challenges, exploring new places, witnessing genocides and mass-murders, causing genocides and mass-murders, fucking people (up) psychologically and physically.

What they’ve been up to recently:

Samhain & Nightshade: their work and responsibilities as Guardians of the Veil. Though the Veil is at its thinnest during Hallow’s Eve (31st Oct), they work 24/7 by hunting malicious spirits and whatever dangerous creatures threatening both humans and mythos that are already existing in the world. When not on the job, they’re either out sight-seeing and visiting friends or chilling at home. They also run a small business from home by making potions, charms and selling spells or rare ingredients. Merchants and traveling caravans often stop by their place so they always have a lot of stock to trade.

Axel: whatever the fuck he wants. Mostly spends his time hunting down prey in the human world, or spreading his wings and exploring new and faraway lands/dimensions. He’s still on his quest to journey to Hell and get his revenge on the demoness who killed his whole family. Always easier said than done, but he’s patient and he plays the long game better than anyone.

Where to find them:

The crew live on an abandoned, magickal island called Sundown. Geographically, it’s somewhere up in Northern Ireland but can’t be marked on any human map. It was magickal long before any of them settled there and because of its supernatural properties, it can hide itself from the naked eye. At the same time the island and its forests are connected to every labyrinth, maze and neck of the woods across worlds and dimensions.

Samhain is always saying that the island has a mind of its own and likes to spirit people away, regardless if their living or dead. People either end up in Sundown when they least expect it, or because it’s where they’re supposed to go.

While you can easily find Samhain and Nightshade at home, Axel can’t stay cooped up in once place too long and travels all over the place. When he’s not hunting, he escapes to the quiet of the wild or the bustling big cities.

Current plans:

The narrative starts with Samhain and Nightshade already experts in their fields and doing their jobs as Guardians of the Veil, and continues with them helping Axel achieve his goal of ultimate payback. The timeline for this blog is infinite after that because I haven’t quite figured out the endgame for anything just yet. Which is why any plot that involves Axel killing Ketele, getting his heart back, and even Nightshade’s life after Samhain’s death, is considered an AU.

In terms of plans for this blog, I’m still working on things so that they can fall into place and serve as proper material for a comic. Once I’ve gotten all my ideas sorted out, those AUs might probably not stay AUs and end up being one huge main timeline.

Desired interactions:

I’d love more threads that explore the darker side of Samhain, whether it’s in the Mainverse or in any of the AUs where he’s not his usual, warm, friendly self or where he’s morally grey. Which is why I love writing him in his criminal verses! Some of my faves are: - Pirate AU: He’s the first-mate and quartermaster who has the gift of ‘Sight’ but he’s as pirate as they come. - Green Eyed Devil: Human-Ghoul hybrid bandit whose crew would do almost anything for money. - Mobprince AU: Classy and more reserved, the quiet but bloodthirsty type. I’ve always been a fan of mobs/gangs/syndicates. - Dark!Samhain: Angsty, overpowered hermit. I rarely get opportunities to write him in this verse which is a shame because I’d like to develop it more.

Nightshade’s all fun and games but once in a while, it’d be refreshing for Nightshade to do a serious thread. Like maybe deal with heavier, more sensitive topics. I’ve emphasized how she’s seen the same amount of horror Samhain has seen but comes out more mentally resilient in comparison, so I’d really like to explore that more about her. I also feel like she hasn’t been able to really connect with anyone as a real friend?? Idk how to explain it but like, I feel like she just floats between different muses and she’s so friendly with everyone, it’s hard to pinpoint whether there is a real connection between them or if it’s just Nightshade being...Nightshade? It’s none of my partners’ faults BTW! I’m reminding me to fix that about myself and how I write her.

Speaking of darker topics, I don’t mind pushing the boundaries when it comes to Axel as long as it doesn’t make anyone uncomfortable. I used to write some disturbing shit with him back in the day (like he broke into a drug lord’s flat and killed everyone in it so he could use it as his personal nest, killed and ate two police officers who were investigating the break-in, mutilated, tortured and ate a rapist alive after catching him in the act etc.). But the partners I used to write with are long gone and I feel like Axel needs to get back into the game again.

Offered interactions:

All of the above as well as anything else from my list of AUs! As mentioned on the page, that list is not the TOTAL list of AUs I’ve got. Some are just really small and still in development, and not enough to justify getting a spot on that list. Honestly, I’m open to plotting and coming up with more AUs so if you’ve got an idea, just hmu! I’ve also got a tag for ‘au ideas’ so you can browse there too if you like and tell me if anything strikes your fancy~

Current open post/s:

I don’t make open posts or starters. I prefer writing starters once my partner and I have something in mind and we’ve plotted enough to go about it.

Anything else?:

Though the blog is advertised as a WEEKEND blog (cus I work 9-5 on weekdays), I am usually lurking online thanks to mobile and will answer IMs when free. I don’t like replying to threads on mobile so I’ll usually reply on the weekends. Unless I’m busy that weekend, then sometimes I change up the rules and reply on a Friday or whenever I’m able.

When I reply to threads, I like to release a bunch at a time and then I’ll tag my partners so that they can see how many threads I’ve replied to out of the total count, like so! The total count often changes because we could have dropped threads in between, or partners go on hiatus and they get moved from ‘ongoing’ to ‘cold’ threads. Because of this, I have a threads page which I try my best to update.

Tagged by Stolen from: @bengalisms

#ooc #ooc post is ooc #about the muse

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kin-assistance · 6 years

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(I know this is in response to an anon from two days ago so please ignore time) Hey there! I'm an ex-kin who considers herself anti-kin and follows due to wanting both sides of the argument. Anyways, I noticed somebody wanted to know why former kin are like that and it's because of our own experiences. I don't necessarily believe that every kin is fake just because my own wasn't real. What I do believe however is that every kin needs to be careful. The reason for my kin was to rationalize (1/3)

and ignore abuse coming from my ex who basically raped me. And to use kin to hide from things like that is very dangerous to the people who are doing it and I don’t want people to continue to tolerate rape and abuse being performed on themselves because they don’t really realize it. So basically I’m against kin because so many times it can just be running away from something that is actually hurting them more.(2/3)

Sorry if it doesn’t make sense. It’s 3 AM here. Anyways, hope you guys have a great night(morning/afternoon). (3/3)

Well. For starters, I know it’s taken me a while to answer this. I had help on answering this and dealing with it properly, because every time I read it, I start getting angry. If you really wish to inquire as to why, or otherwise try to argue, please contact me on my kin personal blog, @/shadowfae - I do not want nor tolerate discourse and fighting here.

That being said, here is what @jeshire-katt, who has more experience with these sorts of issues than I do, says about this.

“My experiences with religious abuse like this took place entirely outside of the community, and honestly I think if I'd found otherkin and therian spaces that were tolerant of fictionkin back then, it just straight up wouldn't have happened. Just like anon, I was abused and raped irl, by an adult while I was a minor, and pretty much all of that was enabled by both other factors going on in my life at the time that would normally be very tempting to narcissistic abusers and a lack of good info at a time where my awakening was in full swing. I don't know how old this person is or when this occurred, but I'm willing to bet they didn't meet on an alterhuman forum or a moderated platform for alterhumans either.

Now, when the relationship ended, I tried really hard to distance myself from my alterhuman identity. My identity has been to some degree a lifelong thing, and in my case as fictionkin it's not exactly an option. So all it did was really hurt me and prevent me from getting better to not want to face those parts of myself that had been exploited. Only when I accepted my alterhuman identity did I actually start recovering. For other folks with involuntary identities I imagine it's pretty much the same: you can't ignore a vital part of yourself just because someone exploited it. You have to work through it like you do other trauma.To my knowledge alterhuman communities, and other/fictionkin and therian communities in particular, have a long history of being targeted by people with shitty intentions. This isn't unique to us, many religious spaces and metaphysical, witchy, and spirit working spaces face the same issues. But of these, only alterhuman communities have been pushed to use Tumblr as a primary platform in recent years for some reason - which is really really dangerous imo, because tumblr has no moderation to deal with an individual community's issues. Moreover, a lot of places on Tumblr has this culture where no matter what, everyone is valid. Which wouldn't be a problem if this didn't double as making it even harder to call out toxic and dangerous behavior.

And whether they want to believe it or not, trolls and antikin are adding to this issue. When you promote misinfo via trolling and just straight-up pulling shit out of your ass without talking to people who are actually familiar with these topics, you contribute to people being unable to find info that can help them, learn what the red flags are for religious abuse in a time where that information is our first live of defense and prevention, and even turn people away from it altogether. I was not the only victim of my abuser, and people who suffered at the same time I did found otherkin and didn't look into it because what they found was people mocking us. Both of those people are still alterhuman and have since learned that this wasn't representative of the community, and all that mocking did was prevent them from finding people to relate to.The best thing anyone can do to combat the abuse we faced is to spread awareness of warning signs, red flags, and to tell our stories. How did we end up in those situations? what you would want to have known in retrospect? what do you now see was a sign of things to come? Alterhumans aren't just going to go away, we've been here for a long time and will continue to be here. And for many of us, this community has been a vital, healing thing. The best option we have right now is to police ourselves while combating negativity from the outside and false information from bad actors.”

My stance on this is simply that you clearly had copinglinks that didn’t work out very well, and somehow came to the conclusion that your abuse is entirely the fault of the otherkin community at large, and that is not only incredibly wrong but also hugely disrespectful. Your abuser is the one you should be blaming, not entirely unrelated parties. While I am sorry you were abused, blaming it on us is not going to help you.

Personally, I suggest you think this all through and ask yourself how exactly you think we’re the problem, and what you could be doing instead that’s more productive and less damaging.

~Mod Lu

#discoursenekocat #abuse //#rape //

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ecrivainescence · 8 years

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@constant-gesticulation hi cat! i’m your backup gifter for @voltron-ss. merry belated christmas/new year and stuff. you have been super patient. you rock. i hope you enjoy.

title: maurice

word count: 4668

summary: honestly, this is the silliest thing i have ever written, and it is one long exercise in suspension of disbelief. it contains mothman, dated cultural references, and a random shot of seriousness that did not make itself apparent until about midnight. also bonding, and poison ivy. and red bull. and shiro is allergic to everything.

The campfire stories were Allura’s idea.

“On Altea,” she said, “we told stories of creatures that wandered the night in the waving reed forests. They left wooden stick figures hanging from the waving reeds. They left rock cairns. And if you disturbed one of them you were damned. My father warned me away from them time and time again.” Her face was illuminated by the dim glow of the fire, and her hair was witchy-silver. Her voice took on the quality of an ancient story-keeper.

“But there were three young explorers who did not heed the warnings not to speak of the one that lived in the forest outside our city. She was said to be a malevolent old witch who never showed herself to the people, but who had a long bloody history. Her modus operandi was taking two victims at a time: one to kill first, and one to stand in the corner listening to the screams of the first, awaiting their own death.

“The three explorers were never again seen after the first day they entered the forest, but a year later we found their footage. One of them had accidentally disturbed one of the cairns, and after that things started to unravel. They wandered around in circles for days, lost in the forest, finding wooden stick figures hung from the trees, and being pursued by a being that cast rocks at their tent in the night. Eventually one of them disappeared, and the other two found nothing but a bit of hair and a couple of teeth and a piece of his tongue.”

“Hold on just a hot minute,” said Hunk, artfully constructing a double-decker s’more. “You’re just recycling the plot of The Blair Witch Project.”

“So what if I am?” sniffed Allura. “It was a good movie.”

“No movie retellings,” said Hunk. “It’s the Campfire Story Honor Code.”

Allura stuck out her tongue at him.

“I’ve got one,” piped Keith from his position on a stump across the fire. “It’s a good one.”

“Here we go,” muttered Lance. Shiro shushed him. Pidge leaned in.

Ignoring him, Keith proceeded. “Point Pleasant, West Virginia. 1966. The Scarberrys swore the thing they saw was not a man, nor a bird, although it bore some resemblance to both --”

“It’s Mothman again,” said Lance.

“Got a problem?”

“Oh, I have many problems,” said Lance, “and among them are Mothman, Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, and anything you found on Creepypasta.”

“Well,” said Keith. “You asked for stories. All my stories are about the dark underbelly of the American wilderness.”

“We’re twenty minutes from a Chick-Fil-A,” griped Lance. “That’s your wilderness.”

Hunk sighed. They’d been like this for days – tense, edgy, at each other’s throats. They weren’t always quite so flammable, but something about the close proximity of RV travel made them a powder keg: You spilled coffee on my notebook. You used my toothbrush. What do you mean you ate the last slice of beef jerky.

He expected Shiro to chime in a peacemaker, but then he remembered Shiro was already asleep in his bunk inside the camper due to being extremely fucking tired of everything. Not only was he in charge of driving, but the strange shift of their return to Earth had revealed a lot of unexpected things. Like that Shiro was allergic as hell to everything. Mangoes. Tree nuts. Certain types of sunscreen. Allura’s shampoo. In fact, they carried an Epi-Pen or six with them at all times and tacked a list of his allergies on the tiny refrigerator, ready in the case that he broke out in hives, as he’d already done thrice.

So yeah. Shiro was tired.

Keith and Lance had somehow gotten back to bickering.

“Lance left our food out for bears!”

“Keith almost abducted somebody else’s dog!”

“You helped!”

“At least I wasn’t the one who forgot to tell Shiro about the peanut oil in the chocolate chip cookies and nearly constricted his airway and then bludgeoned him in the head with a golf club!

“That was an accident, for starters,” said Lance, “and at least I didn’t knock down the world’s largest rubber band ball!”

“You can’t knock it down! It’s a ball! It rolls!”

“It rolled right over an eighty-year-old man.”

“No, actually it rolled over his wife.” Pidge was fiddling with her ham radio setup, which she operated illegally on the go. No one knew what she was doing with all those wavy sound lines and static-y sounds emerging from her headphones. It was just what Pidge did.

“That’s hardly better,” said Lance. “You may be the resident ace pilot, but at least I’m second best at threatening the lives of the elderly.”

“Yeah?” asked Keith. “You’re awfully good at being second best.”

Hunk snapped to attention. The glint departed Lance’s eyes in an instant. “Well,” he said bitterly. “I can’t argue with you there.” He shrugged and turned, walking off into the darkness.

“Oh dear,” said Allura. “I’d better look after him if he’s going to walk off alone in the dark.” She hurried off.

“Not cool, man,” Hunk said into the awkward silence surrounding the campfire.

“I wasn’t thinking,” said Keith. “I just…fuck.”

“You really hurt his feelings with that one,” Pidge said quietly, her headphones in her hands, spitting static.

“I know,” said Keith. “Shit.” He put his head into his hands.

There was something about being on Earth that dragged Lance back into who he used to be. The inferior. The lost. The mildly spiteful. He’d almost fooled himself into believing that he was over it – that he was finally comfortable in his own skin, that he didn’t have to be the best as long as he was his best. But it wasn’t even the damage to his self esteem that really did it – it was that Keith had said it specifically to hurt. And out of nowhere. In the middle of a petty argument. That hurt more than anything.

He could hear Allura crunching leaves behind him, even though she tried to be quiet. Always looking after him. Always assuming he’d get himself into some sort of trouble. And what made him so bitter about it was the knowledge that, so often, he would.

“I’m calling it a night,” he said, changing course and heading for the camper. “You don’t have to babysit me, Allura.” He trudged back toward his cot and his thin blanket and his midseason finale of The Walking Dead. Allura touched his shoulder lightly as he passed by. He shrugged her off.

The next day, Shiro grabbed a six-pack (his secret stash), a fishing pole, and a tiny child’s beach chair decorated with clownfish, and made for the lake a half a mile away.

“You know I care about all of you,” he said, “but I’m going to go fishing. I’m going to sit in this chair, and I’ll happily skin the person who makes me move. So do what you want, but be prepared for the consequences.” He nodded resolutely and made his exit, Allura chasing after him to remind him to wear his hypoallergenic sunscreen.

Pidge turned to Lance. “I need a ride to the nearest store to get some radio stuff.”

“Okay,” he said, making for Shiro’s dad’s old pickup truck that pulled the camper.

“I need to come too,” said Keith, with heavy bags under his eyes. “I need some stuff.”

The nearest store was a WalMart twenty minutes away.

The first thing Pidge noticed was that it was nearly totally empty. There was but one cashier, and she was wall-eyed. The automatic doors creaked. The inside of the store played elevator music. “Meet back here in fifteen,” said Lance, and they wandered off in their respective directions.

Pidge wandered about the aisles looking for her extra wires and the little pencils she liked and the best instant coffee for all-nighters. Keith and Lance avoided speaking to each other except when absolutely necessary, picking out toilet paper and Cheez-Its and several pool noodles. Wrapped up in their own heads, they paid for their things and left the store, and only after the silent ride home did they notice anything was missing.

Pidge wandered out into the parking lot after finding them nowhere in the store, and swore loudly. The truck was gone.

“Hey!” called the wall-eyed cashier. “You gotta pay for that stuff!”

“Well, fuck,” Pidge said to herself.

It was in the personal care aisle that she saw him. She had downed a couple of Red Bulls at that point (okay, maybe four). So yeah, the world was starting to blur. And the aisles were starting to seem more and more like a mystical labyrinth, a trap for the weak-willed, a purgatory where one might wander for all eternity and never see the sun. Or, for that matter, a sales associate. But she swore he was real; he was not of this world, but he was real.

He seemed to distort the air around him, like he possessed a certain gravity. His eyes were in fact as bulbous and red as legend told, but he seemed to taste the air, too, with these gently waving antennae on his face. He was coated in downy gray fur. His wings were dark, iridescent, sharp like the edges of knives.

“I knew you would come,” he said to Pidge, not looking. His voice was like rocks falling off the side of a mountain.

“How’d you figure that?” she asked, rubbing her eyes and trying to remember if this had ever happened on Red Bull before.

“You signaled me,” he said. “Did you not?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” Shouldn’t have played around with amateur radio frequencies. “But is that why you’re in WalMart? Really?”

“No,” he said in his rockslide voice. “I ran out of Kraft macaroni and baby wipes.”

“Mothman eats Kraft macaroni?”

“Please,” he said. “Call me Maurice.”

“Hmm,” Pidge said. “Nice to meet you, Maurice. You’re as intimidating as they said you’d be. I’m Pidge Gunderson.”

“I am pleased to make the acquaintance of yours as well, Pigeon Dungerson,” he said.

“Well, we’ll work on that later, I guess,” she muttered. “Say, Maurice. How’d you like to help me with something?”

There were several reasons this was a good idea.

1. Revenge. She’d only been buying deodorant and stuff, for fuck’s sake. She hadn’t just wandered off for two hours. She was sick and tired of getting left places – WalMart. Diners. Gas stations.

2. Keith and Lance were at each other’s throats more than was necessary, and it was screwing with Pidge’s flow. They always worked better together in times of trouble. Perhaps it was time to shake things up.

3. It was going to be a hell of a lot of fun.

“Okay,” she said to Maurice, who was munching happily on a Pop Tart. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I need you to stick close. I’ll lure them off by themselves, and then you can do your weird stun-tongue thing and drag them around a little bit. Let them freak out. Let ‘em scream a little bit. And then when they get their shit together and figure out a plan to get out of the situation, I want you to let them get away. Let them think they’ve done it themselves. And I’ll pay you in all the Pop Tarts you want.”

“We do not have Pop Tarts in my realm,” said Maurice, the air shimmering around him.

“I know, Maurice,” said Pidge. “I know.”

Keith apologized profusely when he arrived twenty minutes later to retrieve Pidge, but strangely enough she didn’t have anything to say about being stranded at WalMart. Keith put it down to one of her weird caffeine-drunk spells, given the aroma of Red Bull on her breath. He shrugged it off.

He was lacing up his boots and packing his field notes when he noticed Lance standing by awkwardly. “What are you about to do?” he asked.

“I’m gonna look around,” Keith said, trying to offer a little goodwill. “You can come if you want.”

Pidge, behind a nearby tree (and sporting some fabulous aviators) whispered into a walkie talkie: “Your move, Maurice.”

Around one in the afternoon, Shiro was working on his sweet Chaco tan when he remembered he’d forgotten his pool noodle. He tromped right back to the camper. Allura was just out of bed, wearing a t-shirt over her swimsuit and sipping a cup of the acidic black coffee that spewed out of the ancient coffeemaker.

“What’s that on your legs?” She asked.

“What’s what?”

“That,” she said, gesturing toward a strange yellow-pink rash that Shiro had not previously noticed.

“I guess that’s…oh. Oh no.”

“What?”

“Poison ivy.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be rather mildly irritating?”

“Not to me,” Shiro said. “Guess what else I’m allergic to?”

“Poison ivy,” Allura said, turning slightly green. “Oh. Oh shit.”

“It makes me swell up like a balloon,” he said.

“I’ll get the keys,” Allura sighed. He was already looking a bit puffy.

In retrospect, Lance would wonder if it was really all that surprising that as soon as they’d wandered far enough from the campsite that no one could hear them scream, there had suddenly been an insect man tall enough to sling one of them over each shoulder and haul them back to his weird lair thing. It was, like, the only thing that hadn’t happened yet in his short life.

The cave was not littered with the bones of small animals, as he would have expected, but instead strange paraphernalia of ages past. Hawaiian shirts. A gumball machine. A broken television set. Books and books and books. Star Wars miniatures. A typewriter.

It really wasn’t a cave at all. More of a large person-sized dirt burrow, or an adobe hallway.

“This is my collection,” said the strange red-eyed moth creature. “Please making yourself comfortable.” He paused for a moment, as if contemplating. “If you can.” For Keith and Lance were bound up together, back to back, in some sort of strange tense plastic-like material. Slightly slimy. Ominous.

“Listen,” said Lance. “If you’ll just untie these rope thingies, we can all sit down and have a chat, okay? A dinner party. A forum, if you will.”

“I cannot do that,” said the creature. “Do you like music?”

“What?”

“Music.”

“I mean…yeah. I guess.”

“Oh, good,” said Mothman. He walked his funny childlike shuffling walk over to a cobwebbed corner, and fiddled with something glinting in the low light. A moment later, scratchy music began to play. Upon further inspection, the object barely visible in the dimness seemed to be a phonograph. “It is the theme from an Earth show called, ‘I Am Dreaming of Jeannie,’” he said. “I have also the songs of Billie Holliday, and Milli Vanilli, and Back of Nickel.”

“You’ve been collecting Earth music, haven’t you?” said Keith.

“They sell Nickelback on vinyl?” asked Lance.

“I have been a collector of Earth things for many years,” said the creature. “Next I will show you my collection of glass jars. Perhaps my marbles, if you are careful. Or my many plastic shopping bags. And my most favorite thing,” he said. “Would you like to see my most favorite thing?”

“I suppose,” said Lance.

“Look.” He trotted out of a corner with a dusty cardboard box that, upon further inspection, contained dusty video cassette tapes. “It is my box set of all of the seasons of the Earth show ‘Friends.’”

“Very, um, nice,” said Keith.

“We were ON A BREAK,” said Mothman. He made a noise that sounded somewhere between a cough and an avalanche. “Ha! Ha! Have I done the Earth humor correctly? I have not had much time to practice on real people.”

“You know what, buddy?” said Lance. “Yeah. You did it right. Congratulations. You’re pretty great at Earth-speak.”

“Oh,” said the Mothman, clapping his hand-things. “I am glad.”

“If you would just…y’know…untie us, that’d be great.”

“You will be going nowhere,” the creature said in his strange gravelly voice. “For I will not permit it. You are to be my dinner. Yummy yummy. Human flesh.” The moth-creature-alien-thing waved his hands about his head in a manner that resembled jazz hands. “Was I convincingly scary?”

“I’m not ready to leave anyway,” said Keith. “I want to interview him.”

Lance raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Of course,” he muttered. “Of course you do. Of course you want to interview the flesh-devouring man-moth who has us trapped prone in his cave in the Virginia wilderness.”

“I’m just saying!” said Keith. “We are never going to get this chance again! We can get documentation! Nobody has ever had proof this definitive of the existence of Mothman. We can ask him about the Silver Bridge thing –”

“That was not my doing,” said the Mothman.

“You know what I’m talking about?” asked Keith. “You know about the Silver Bridge?”

“I am Maurice,” said the Mothman. “Please refer to me by my Earth name.”

“Okay, um…Maurice, then,” said Keith. “So what really happened that day?”

“I do not know,” he said. “It was a most unfortunate accident. I was at home all day. The one they spotted was not me.”

“Who was it, then?”

“My brother Jimmy. He was visiting from our realm.”

“Your realm?”

“My home. It is in another galaxy.”

“Well, what’s it like? What are your people like?”

“They are mostly what you humans would call ‘average Joes,’” said Maurice. “They are workers. They pay taxes. I am here to work on my thesis. I have taken a bit longer than the average of forty years to complete it.”

“Your…thesis?”

“Yes,” he said. “It is on the behavior of the bald Earthlings and their strange culture. I have learned of one ritual in particular that captures my imagination. You put our your right arm, and then your left, and then you turn your hands over, and then grasping your elbows…”

“You’re speaking of the Macarena,” said Keith.

“We could demonstrate it for you if you’d untie us.”

“Oh,” he said. “I will. Eventually. But for now the little one said –” He clapped his hands over his mouth.

“What little one?” asked Keith. “Are you working for somebody?”

“I have said too much,” said Maurice. “You will have to ask her. For now I will take my leave. I have to be gathering the flowers.” He waddled out of the cave at what was top speed, compared to his usual gait. “Do not be trying to be escaping,” he called backwards over his wing.

Lance and Keith summoned grimaces and raised their hands as far as they could to wave, considering they were tied up. They didn’t stop smiling at the creature’s back until he was well out of sight.

“Okay,” said Lance when it was clear they were alone. “We’re going to have to work together to get out of this.”

“I haven’t seen Lance and Keith for a while,” said Hunk, surrounded by a stack of novels, knee-deep in one that had to be at least 500 pages. “You wouldn’t, um, happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Pidge. “Nothing. None. Zip.”

“You were awfully intent on paying them back,” Hunk said, “and now, funnily enough, they’re gone.”

“I think I should reapply my sunscreen.”

“Pidge. Come on. Where are they?”

She sighed. “It’s kind of hard to explain. But they’re safe!” she added hastily, when Hunk turned slightly green. “Relatively, anyway.”

“Explain now,” he said, putting his chin in his hands.

“Okay,” she said, and began her sordid tale.

When she reached the end, Hunk put his face in his hands. “I cannot believe,” he said, “that you invited Mothman to kidnap your teammates.”

“Maurice,” corrected Pidge.

“Maurice may be responsible for many deaths, my friend. The Silver Bridge! Car accidents! Oh, god, they’re probably already dead! I don’t know how I’m going to explain this to Lance’s mom –”

“The collapse of the Silver Bridge was caused by a faulty eyebar and you fucking know it,” said Pidge. “Maurice is a nice guy. All he wants is Pop Tarts, I promise. And he’s probably an extremely valuable contact for Voltron, and an opportunity for insight into parts of the universe yet uncharted –”

“Take me to them,” said Hunk. “Now.”

“Ugh. Fine.”

Usually, Allura loved riding her high-tech portable deployable solar-powered motorcycle, courtesy of Coran – the wind in her hair, the sun on her face. The sweet taste of fresh rural Earth air. But right now, her hair was whipping Shiro in the face as he rode behind her, arms locked around her waist.

He was still pretty swollen and itchy, but at least he now had a prescription for some medication that was supposed to help. And at least nobody had said much about the Galra arm.

And at least, said that small, wicked part of her mind, he would still need someone to rub calamine lotion between his shoulder blades.

As a pick-me up, she’d bought him a huge tin of fudge from a roadside stand that also sold beaded bracelets, snow globes with Mickey Mouse in them (probably stolen), and little figures of tiny naked fairy babies with flower crowns and chubby cheeks.

It was this fudge tin that was digging lines into her back as she pulled up to the camp site. She parked, stood and stretched her back good and long, and then looked up as Shiro shuffled up next to her.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “Where in quiznak is everybody?”

Keith and Lance managed to accomplish approximately nothing.

Lance was proposing a strategic top-speed ground roll all the way back to the camp site when Keith, who was the one facing the mouth of the weird dirt burrow, began screaming. “Hunk! Pidge! Run while you still can! Before Mothman devours your flesh!”

“Excuse me,” said Mothman, appearing suddenly out of nowhere with a crack, antennae quivering. “But I have told you that is not my name.”

“Nice work, Maurice,” said Pidge, entering the mouth of the burrow slightly sweaty and out of breath. “It’s not your fault they were too stupid to figure out a way out.”

“Wait,” said Lance. “Hold on just a hot fuckin’ minute. You know him?”

“Yeah,” said Pidge. “You make all kinds of friends when you get stranded in WalMart.”

“You set him on us,” said Keith.

“I did you a favor,” she said, “and you would be wise to remember it the next time we stop at a QuikTrip. Before you, you know, forget me.”

“I mean,” said Hunk. “She kind of has a point.”

“The idea,” Pidge said, “was that you were supposed to figure out a way out together and realize that you’re a great team and you need to support each other.”

“So you organized this as a lesson in teamwork? You let us be kidnapped by a giant insect-man in the Virginia wilderness so we could learn?”

“No,” she said, looking at the pile of bubble-wrapped teenage boy on the ground. “That was just a bonus. This is also revenge for the five different times you’ve left me at…let’s see. Waffle House, a gas station, another gas station, that one weird fruit stand, and WalMart. But you weren’t supposed to get hurt or anything. You were supposed to figure out a way to get out. Together. Since you’ve been making our lives miserable with your fighting.”

“Well, we didn’t.”

“I am sorry I have bound you too tightly,” said Maurice. “I forgot that humans do not possess fine razor sharp hairs on their hands capable of cutting through my biological web goo.”

“Whatever you do,” said Lance, closing his eyes as if in pain. “Do not ever mention biological web goo again. And do not tell me what part of you it comes from.”

“Oh, just my nose.”

“I guess it could be worse,” said Keith.

“So you’re basically tied up in alien moth snot,” said Hunk.

“Maurice,” said Pidge. “How do you feel about Spaghetti-Os cooked over a campfire?”

“I would most enjoy it!”

“You did some nice work today, bud. I have seventeen boxes of Pop Tarts with your name on them.”

Pidge held out a fist for him to bump, but he met it with a high five. “Okay,” she said. “I guess we’ll have to work on that.”

When they got back to the camp site, Shiro was lying under a blanket inside the camper, watching Gilmore Girls season two, and Allura was already pacing with her hands on her hips, ready to scold. “Where in quiznak have you been?” she demanded in her best Mom Voice.

“Off making friends with the local cryptids,” said Pidge. “Meet my friend Maurice.”

“I am so fortunate to be included in the bald Earthling ritual burning of the marshmallows,” said Maurice.

Allura was taken aback. “Um,” she said. “I don’t believe I’ve met anyone of your species before. But I suppose it’s nice to meet you. And you,” she said to Pidge, “will explain later.”

“Oh, that is alright,” said Maurice. “I am sure we will be able to do the bonding over bald Earthling pop culture. I am rather partial to Bruno Mars myself.”

Pidge and Maurice sat around the campfire long after everyone else had retreated to the relative civilization of the RV. They toasted Pop Tarts, downed yet more Red Bull, and traded stories about their respective worlds, current events, and pop music.

“Well,” said Allura warmly, observing from afar. “I think everything’s finally all worked out. We’re bonding, we’re learning about each other, we’re exploring the great American wilds, we found Mothman…”

“Oh fuck,” said Shiro. “I think this fudge has nuts in it.”

“Oh no,” said Allura. “Oh, no. Oh no no no. How allergic did you say you were to nuts?”

“Severely,” said Shiro.

“NURSE HUNK! EPI-PEN! NOW!”

As Hunk thundered around the camp looking for the first aid kit, and Pidge continued teaching Maurice bawdy British rugby songs, and as Allura issued commands while Shiro panicked (“My face is swelling! I can’t feel my face!”), Lance turned to Keith. “So,” he said. “Is Mothman everything you hoped he would be?”

“I mean,” said Keith, shrugging. “He’s a little anticlimactic. I don’t know how I’m supposed to work this into a book about the dark underbelly of Mother Nature. And besides, I didn’t find him. Pidge did.”

“Pidge always figures everything out first,” huffed Lance. “Sometimes I wonder why I bother comparing myself to you when she smokes us both.”

Keith hung his head. “I’m sorry I said that stuff before, about you being second best,” he said. “I don’t really think that. I was just being an ass.”

“Oh, it’s alright,” said Lance. “I’m used to you being an ass.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not trying to be,” he replied. “I just am that way. Even when I’m thinking totally chill, benign thoughts, I somehow manage to bitch people out. I don’t really like that about myself. Actually,” he said, “sometimes I’m not sure I like myself much at all.”

“Yeah, well, then we make a great team,” said Lance.

“We do, though,” said Keith.

“Would you like yourself more if you managed to solve Bigfoot first? I know Mothman’s out of the game, but other mysteries remain. I’ll come with you, of course.”

“Well, duh. I’ll need witnesses and a cameraman and stuff.”

“I still can’t feel my face!” Shiro yelled in the distance.

“No, no,” said Pidge to Maurice. “You’re talking about rugby league. It’s different from rugby union.”

“This fudge really is exceptional, though,” said Allura.

“Pound it,” said Lance, offering a fist. Keith met it with a high five.

“Okay,” said Lance. “We can work on that.”

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