#Black Cemetery Network

[perfectalpacacollector-f543cd03]

52 Ancestors: Strieby Church, Randolph County, North Carolina, Family Reunion

Another look back at Strieby's 2022 Homecoming as we get ready for this year's Homecoming and Open House on the 26-27 August.

Strieby Congregational United Church of Christ in Asheboro, North Carolina, has held Homecoming (Reunion)/Revival services on the fourth Sunday in August, for all of its 144 years so far as we have been able to ascertain. Over the past 10 years we, the descendants of the original community who grew up around the church, established in 1879, have made a concerted effort to preserve, share, and…

[sayruq]

Police in the Turkish city of Adana detained 11 suspects, five Israeli and two Syrian, on allegations of organ trafficking, the Daily Sabah reported on 5 May. The Provincial Directorate of Security's Anti-Smuggling and Border Gates Branch began investigating after examining the passports of seven individuals who arrived in Adana from Israel about a month ago by plane for the purpose of health tourism. The two Syrian nationals, ages 20 and 21, were found to have fake passports. Further investigation revealed that Syrian nationals had each agreed to sell one of their own kidneys to two of the Israeli nationals, ages 68 and 28, for kidney transplants in Adana. During searches at the suspects' residences, $65,000 and numerous fake passports were seized. Israel has long been at the center of what Bloomberg described in 2011 as a “sprawling global black market in organs where brokers use deception, violence, and coercion to buy kidneys from impoverished people, mainly in underdeveloped countries, and then sell them to critically ill patients in more-affluent nations.” The financial newspaper added, “Many of the black-market kidneys harvested by these gangs are destined for people who live in Israel.” The organ-trafficking network extends from former Soviet Republics such as Azerbaijan, Belarus, Ukraine, and Moldova to Brazil, the Philippines, South Africa, and beyond, the Bloomberg investigation showed. Accusations of Israeli involvement in organ trafficking also apply to the occupied Palestinian territories. In 2009, Sweden's largest daily newspaper, Aftonbladet, reported testimony that the Israeli army was kidnapping and murdering Palestinians to harvest their organs. The report quotes Palestinian claims that young men from the occupied West Bank and Gaza Strip had been seized by the Israeli army, and their bodies returned to the families with missing organs. "'Our sons are used as involuntary organ donors,' relatives of Khaled from Nablus said to me, as did the mother of Raed from Jenin as well as the uncles of Machmod and Nafes from Gaza, who all had disappeared for a few days and returned by night, dead and autopsied," wrote Donald Bostrom, the author of the report.Bostrom also cites an incident of alleged organ theft during the the first Palestinian intifada in 1992. He says that the Israeli army abducted a young man known for throwing stones at Israeli troops in the Nablus area. The young man was shot in the chest, both legs, and the stomach before being taken to a military helicopter, which transported him to an unknown location. Five nights later, Bostrom said, the young man's body was returned, wrapped in green hospital sheets. Israel’s Channel 2 TV reported that in the 1990s, specialists at Abu Kabir Forensic Medicine Institute harvested skin, corneas, heart valves, and bones from the bodies of Israeli soldiers, Israeli citizens, Palestinians, and foreign workers without permission from relatives. The Israeli military confirmed that the practice took place, but claimed, "This activity ended a decade ago and does not happen any longer." Israel’s assault on Gaza since 7 October has provided further opportunities for the theft and harvesting of Palestinians’ organs. On 30 January, WAFA news agency reported that the Israeli army returned the bodies of 100 Palestinian civilians it had stolen from hospitals and cemeteries in various areas in Gaza. According to medical sources, inspection of some of the bodies showed that organs were missing from some of them. On 18 January, the Times of Israel reported that the Israeli army confirmed reports that its soldiers dug up graves in a Gaza cemetery, claiming its soldiers were trying to “confirm that the bodies of hostages were not buried there.”

[hisunshiine]

—immortal lust |myg|

🧛🏻 pairing: vampire!yoongi x vampire hunter!reader  🧛🏻 au/genre: vampire au, e2l, angst, smut  🧛🏻 rating: M  🧛🏻 wc: 8,783 🧛🏻 warnings: mentions of parent death (off-screen). creepy themes associated with graveyards, vampires, and vampire hunting. explicit smut: fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, implied bdsm, implied orgy, biting, blood drinking (vamps, duh!), use of blood for lubrication (again, vamps!) 🧛🏻 an: thank you to my beta readers @downbad4yoongi and @lo1k-diamonds and @mrsparkjimin18. I know this ws rough at first, but I think it became a very enjoyable piece of literature in the end. @colormepurplex2, thank you for the prompt to write, and congrats on earning the most points for the network in the semi-annual tally! You earned it! 🧛🏻 summary: In the shadows of a world where the supernatural breathes just beneath the surface of the mundane, you are a skilled vampire slayer from a revered family harboring a secret desire that contradicts your very existence. 

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This story is written for @colormepurplex2 as her gift for being the top leading point earner for our network, @bangtanwritershq and for our Quarter 2 event: Seven Deadly Sins

ᥫ᭡ AU Type: Lust — Vampire AU ᥫ᭡ Themes: Enemies 2 Lovers & Forbidden Desires ᥫ᭡ Inclusions: Bargains & Contracts, Confessions and Secrets, Explicit Sexual Content, Blood & Violence 

masterlist ❁ ao3

24 Years Ago

“Why are you crying, Uncle Sol?” Eight-year-old you stands in the darkened doorway of the study, bleary eyes struggling to take in the scene in front of you.

Soleil Belmont sits in the overly stuffed, brown leather armchair in front of the fireplace. Your uncle by choice, thanks to the life-long friendship between him and your mother, Valkyrie Blake, is how he came to be in your life. The hands that cover his damp eyes wipe furiously at his cheeks, as if to hide the evidence of his tears from your sight. You didn’t even notice how he looked—the mud caked on his boots, the tattered look of his shirt under his leather jacket, the small cut by his hairline or the bruises starting to appear along his face. 

“Come here, sweetie,” he asks, voice breaking as you walk in your thin nightgown across the wood floors, feet making quiet sounds with every step you take closer to him. Once within his reach, he places a clammy hand on your shoulder.  

“There’s been an accident.”

The funeral itself was one of the worst days of your life, watching the twin caskets of your parents lower into the rectangular cutouts in the  earth. The gleaming black lacquered wood was polished to perfection, only to be marred by the small handful of dirt you’d thrown before begging to be taken away from the graveyard, away from the scent of death and decay. 

That day is when you decide you never want to experience death. You never want to be so badly injured in a car accident that your family has to have a closed casket. That you’d never see your child grow up, and leave her abandoned in this world. You hate that death is the inevitable end to life, and that fear leads you down the path you’re on now.

You - Present Day

The dream begins much like all of the other ones you’ve had as of late. You’re in an old cemetery—gothic gravestones coated in thick moss with flora obscuring the names and dates of the not-so-recently deceased. Large tombs with crumbling marble and ivy-covered wrought-iron fences, the overgrown oaks with Spanish moss reaching eerily towards your figure in the shadows from the waxing crescent moon. The dirt beneath your feet feels malleable as you step quietly past the final resting places of all of the former slayers. You’ve traversed these grounds before, more than several times in your adult life, as you’ve learned about your family, the work that they did—that you are supposed to continue—and can name all of the family lines that take their final rest here. 

An eerie fog begins to rise from the ground, permeating the air until it covers your boots and ankles, weaving its way along the marble and stone placards, hiding the Lord’s Prayer epitaphs and angelic motifs from sight. A shiver raises the hair along your arms and the back of your neck and you sense him. He’s here, watching you with his luminous eyes and heightened, immortal beauty. You know he can hear the way your heart thrums in your chest, can smell the prickles of adrenaline that drip from the sweat at your hairline, and possibly the arousal as it seeps through your panties.

You attempt to refocus your thoughts away from the nervous energy, standing still.  You wonder if he believes that you are doing this so as to not trip or step on dead wood littering the ground to make too much sound. You know it wouldn’t matter. Quiet as a mouse or trampling like an elephant would make no difference to this being. He is well over three centuries old, exact years he has been alive though are not documented anywhere. No one has lived after a close encounter with him to document his life pre-turning, according to the various journals and tomes housed in the slayer library. 

All you know for certain is that the earliest records of the vampire known only as ‘Yoongi’ appear in the late 17th century, identify his maker as ‘Namjoon’, and his three known fledglings as ‘Heizi’, ‘Taehyung’, and ‘Hoseok’. Only one of his creations is dead—the one who killed your parents. A loud crack of lightning whips your head to the left, the flash revealing the amber backlit eyes embedded in the dark silhouette of the famed vampire crouched on the edge of the cremation tomb several yards away. Your amygdala reacts, heart rate spiking as he moves faster than you can capture—one second he’s atop the Van Helsing columbarium, the next he’s standing in front of you, strong hands clamped to your arms holding you tight, keeping you from moving. Your small but deadly sharp stake is rendered useless by your side.

There’s no time to scream, no time to do anything but hear the rush of blood through your veins as his mouth grows from a smirk to a downright smile, fangs glowing from the reflection of moonlight.

“You made it too easy, kitten,” he purrs, bringing his face closer to yours before dipping his face into your neck. He takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent as he scrapes the tips of his pointed teeth across the sensitive skin of your neck. “And to think you were able to kill Heize. I must do better at training my progeny. Oh well, another slayer to add to the crypt. You didn’t even last two minutes.”

Squirming in his grip, you try to disengage his clenched fists from your arms as his mouth descends to your thrumming artery. You wake with a gasp, hands flying to your neck to check for puncture wounds. 

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Down in the gym at the bottom floor of your house—if you can call it that—you push your muscles to their extent, fists flying into the punching bag. You whip around, grabbing the thin bladed stake from the side pocket of your athletic leggings and plunge it into the second bag made for staking. 

With a deep breath, you step onto the bag to pull your weapon loose, watching small bits of fluff flutter to the mat beneath you. Wiping the sweat from your brow, you check the time on the clock, noting it’s near lunchtime. Sheathing your weapon, you head up the staircase to sunlight. 

On the ground floor, your eyes easily slide past the neoclassical designs along the hallway, high ceilings with blank walls, and columns lining the open floor plan with large arched floor-to-ceiling windows. The protein shake you prepared earlier sits on the top shelf in the fridge, and you grab it along with the jelly to make yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. You’ve just finished when Soleil Belmont walks into the kitchen, a gentle squeeze to your shoulder as he bypasses you to the fridge.

“Can we talk?” he asks you, but you don’t want to argue with him, not when tonight could be the last time you ever talk to him. 

“Sol, I have to do this. You can’t change my mind about this. He sired the vampire that killed my mom and dad. He’s killed countless people for sport, leaving behind orphaned children like me.” You hope the finality in your tone will keep him from prying or asking more questions. 

It works.

“I love you. And I won’t try to change your mind. You’re much like your mother, stubborn to the very end.” Your mother’s best friend and your legal guardian until you turned 18 joins you at the table with a bowl of grapes, a look of acceptance in his eyes. “You know, if anything happens to you, I’m selling this house. It’s much too big for me and I’m getting older.”

Your eyes gaze across his features: the greying hair at the edges of his hairline, crow’s feet meeting the creases of his eyes, the weariness in the undereye circles and fine lines. He’s nearing 60, an age you don’t think you’ll live to see. An age your parents never got to be. At 32, you live on your family estate alone, with Soleil in the pool house you had renovated years ago as a Mother-in-Law suite once you turned 21 and gained your inheritance—and learned the truth about your parents’ death. 

Just as much as you probably could have lived without ever knowing the truth of your parents’ lives, and their demise, you didn’t need all the space he was trying to give you, but he wanted to allow you the chance to be an adult, have a social life and you assume a sex life without having to hear it. You appreciated it in the moments you brought men back from the bar or campus library, but other times, it was just…lonely. 

As a Belmont, Soleil knew about vampires. His family is well known across Europe for their work in Romania slaying creatures of the night, and Soleil’s great-grandparents moved here in the early 1800’s to spread their knowledge to others to continue hunting as the new world grew and vampires spread to the new continent. This is how your families came to be friends and fight alongside each other. Until Heize killed three of the four hunters tasked with taking her out, leaving you and Sol as the only survivors of the Belmont’s and the Blake’s. 

“I think you should. I only keep it because it has everything I need to train. I could practice in peace without worrying about people judging me for all of my weapons. Most people think it’s a little weird to have wooden stakes and crossbows when working out.”

Sol chuckles, making a joke about how between the gym being littered with staked bags and the UV lights that line the entire property at night, people would be confused when purchasing, but then the light leeches out of his eyes as he looks you over.

“Remember to keep your wits about you, okay? I never wanted kids because I knew that hunters' lives never end happily, and when I lost…we lost your parents and my fiancee, I wouldn’t have had a reason to keep living if it weren’t for you.”

You decide now is best to give him the ticket and the envelope.

“Sol, I think…I think it’s best for you to go away on a trip. I think I’ll be able to focus better knowing you are out of harm’s way if you leave.” You slide the ticket across the table towards him, the envelope underneath it. “It’s a one-way ticket to Paris and enough money to be comfortable for as long as you want.”

“You don’t think you’ll survive this, do you?” Sol asks, eyes searching yours for clues, but you remain steadfast.

“Don’t worry about me, Sol,” you say and he makes to interrupt you, but you don’t let him, dealing the killing blow. “I’m not your daughter, so you don’t have to stick around anymore. Go live your life. I want you to go and live your life.”

The hurt in Sol’s eyes is visible, but your plan works. His hand reaches out to grasp the ticket, leaving the envelope of money where it’s at. 

“I don’t need Blake money; the Belmont’s have enough of their own.” He takes a moment to pause, eyes locking back all emotions as he stands. “I’ll pack and leave town. Don’t be distracted.”

Soleil walks to the hallway, turning back just once. “Goodbye.”

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The past 11 years seem to be coming to a head. You’ve spent all of your time after graduating from college training for today. Ever since you learned the truth of how your parents and Sol’s fiancee died, you’ve been plotting for this moment. 

As a member of the famed Blake family, vampire hunting is in your blood. As a child, you obsessed over vampires because of the ability to avoid dying, and as an adult, that obsession helped you with your training. You knew more about vampires than one would expect having been brought into the fold so late, but you put your head down and studied more, learning all you could from previous journals and occult texts to gain insight into the vampires with ties to the one called Min Yoongi. 

Several years ago you went out to avenge your parents, trapping Heize in a classic bait-and-switch. You didn’t think it would be so easy since she was estimated to be around 200 years, but she fell for it simply because Soleil was the only one she didn’t kill, and in her blood haze, she underestimated you. A simple ‘accidental’ dropping of a message from Sol that said where to meet, coupled with thoughts that you and Sol made sure to keep in your head to continue the ruse allowed Heize to willingly walk into the decrepit mausoleum that was booby-trapped with the thinnest of steel wiring criss-crossing the doorway several yards inside with you and Sol on the other side. 

In her haste to grab Soleil, she blurred—her speed too fast to stop her from splicing herself into pieces and effectively decapitating herself was a pleasure to watch. Grabbing the blow torches stashed in the room, her body quickly lit up with flames licking the marble walls as you made your exit. 

It’s been over 5 years since then, and every second since has been spent planning for tonight. 

Min Yoongi - Present Day

Laying in the coffin in his home, Yoongi awaits dusk. His body is antsy for the moment the sun is below the horizon; even in his slumber, he knows that you are out there waiting. For him. He’s followed your movements since the death of his fledgling, Heize, watching to see how this novice of a hunter could have overpowered one of his chosen flock. Imagine his surprise when it turns out that it was you—the last remaining survivor of the Blake family who knew nothing of vampires true existence until you were an adult. 

But over time, he realized as novice as you were, you were skilled. Your lithe movements and ability to track his kind was a novel experience for him to observe. You took down creatures of the night in preparation for what you expressed to your guardian as training for taking out him. Yoongi laughs to himself. 

He admits you’re smart, the plan you laid out is a good one, but you forgot to block your mind from thoughts of the plan several times, which allowed Yoongi to plan his counterattack. In the light of the midday sun, even from outside of his home, he sensed you as you approached and left a note. He could hear your heartbeat, hear the rustle of the paper as you placed it through the mail slot of the front door.

His eyes shot open the moment the sun fell below the horizon. Yoongi hated that he was not yet able to avoid the forced slumber that overtook his kind when the sun rose, nor that he was not averse yet to the fatigue that set in beforehand, warning him of the lack of time remaining to the night. Elder vampires, of which he’s only met two who had lived over a thousand years, were almost immortal. The ability to walk in the sun and thus are not affected by the need to sleep when it rises. Yoongi envies them, but he plans to join them one day. 

He flits to the main hallway, hand reaching for the note and taking in your handwriting in seconds. 

I know what you are. I want to be one of you. Please meet me tonight and turn me, or I will tell everyone vampires exist. 

An address is scrawled at the bottom of the note, but he doesn’t need it. He can follow the heady scent of you to wherever you are. Even in sleep, he sensed when you drew near and his subconscious couldn’t help reading the thoughts that lay in your mind. You truly thought this ruse would work? Hell, it would’ve worked on Heize, or his other fledglings, had they not known who you were. There is fear to be had with mortals knowing of their existence; vulnerability lay in the moments that the sun is out, and a house fire could destroy a whole flock in minutes if their kind is not careful. Yoongi cursed their inability to wake while the sun was out, and now that he knows you know where he resides, he must find a new place to live out his days. 

A glance at the old grandfather clock in the hallway shows him that the sun is now well and truly gone, allowing him to slip through the entrance of the home and out onto the sidewalk. He takes a deep breath, searching for your scent through the others that encompass the air around him; the grass along the road, the burnt rubber of tires in traffic, the lingering warmth of the sun before its descent, and then the faint smell of jasmine flowers after a fresh rainfall. You. 

Blurring into motion, Yoongi travels several miles towards the city, slowing once other scents begin to emerge. Thin crust pizzas covered in meat and cheese, overflowing trash and body odor, and a desperation that covers the city’s nightlife with a humming buzz. The fading jasmine keeps him moving, though now at a human pace as he approaches what appears to be a dance studio. The sign above the door confirms as much, and he’s not surprised that the glass door is unlocked despite the red and white closed sign hanging at eye-level for passersby. 

The floral scent grows tenfold, as if Yoongi has stepped into what he assumes your bedroom would smell like. There is a strange undercurrent that he isn’t used to associating with you, but he assumes it’s just lingering from the studio. As he walks past the lobby area, the shadows of the fake potted plants and the empty chairs intrigue him. Why you chose this place is beyond his comprehension, as a dance studio such as this one, owned by the Blake family—your family—for years, is in the middle of the city and one of the few places not related to the hidden career path of hunting. Unless you count using dance as a way to build agility for fighting those who cannot die, well at least not die easily. 

Yoongi’s cockiness as he meanders closer to the hallway towards the various dance rooms leaves him caught off guard when the sound of whirring behind him causes him to move unnaturally before going eerily still. The slightest misstep is only noticed by Yoongi, whose barely beating heart seems to pick up minutely—not that anyone living or dead would be able to tell. He chuckles at your meager attempt to lock him in; a motorized grate lowering across the lobby door and windows. 

His strength could easily rip the grate off of its frame, but this little game you’re playing is just too good to walk away from without seeing what you’ve planned with his own eyes. It only pops into his thoughts once he’s walked through the back studio where your scent is the strongest, that the grate lowering was not part of the plans his Mind Gift overheard from you. 

So it’s only to his own surprise when the undercurrent rises to an overwhelming level and he realizes what his hubris blocked out. The mirrored room before him is splashed floor to ceiling with blood. 

You - Present Day

With the scent of your blood so overwhelming to the centuries-old vampire, you watch from the corner of the room as he drifts towards the mirrors and closer to where you need him to be. Your fingertips itch on the small switchboard you hold, ready for your plan to unfold. He looks almost dazed, eyes unfocused as his fangs poke his bottom lip. He looks so different, from the way the journals make him out to be, in person he’s much more attractive, and you have to really focus to make sure you don’t miss your mark. 

When Yoongi enters the area you’ve marked off with tape, you release your hold on the button that allows two things to happen simultaneously: a set of low UV flashbang grenades are set off, the mirrored walls reflecting the blinding light with a cacophony of sounds to drown out any thoughts he might try to detect, and a 4x4 cage made of the thinnest wire springs into place trapping him within its confines. 

You watch him through your military-grade glasses, the lenses preventing the bright lights from disorienting you as his brilliant eyes shut against the danger they sense. He is a few centuries old, and you know that despite the direct hit of the UV light, which only lasts for a split second, the slight damage dealt to his skin heals seconds later. 

But your aim wasn’t to kill him. He laughs, a loud bellyful that sounds almost joyous until you flip the second switch, which sets the alkali metal aflame. His laugh is silenced almost immediately, a growl rumbling lowly in his throat. 

“What game are you playing at, little mortal?” His voice carries an edge, and you shiver with delight. You’re sure that it’s never been this easy to capture a vampire that is several centuries old, but sometimes the best laid plans are the most simple. You step forward from the corner you were in, no longer hidden as the flames light the room and you pull off the tinted lenses.

“I’m not playing any games at all.”

He glares at you, the slits of his eyes glowing an intense amber shade—an enhancement to what you predict were originally beautiful brown eyes—and you bravely take a step closer. 

“Then what, praytell, would you call this,” his hand waves gingerly towards the room around him, “smoke and mirrors set up you have me in?”

“I…I want to experience being bitten.”

This time, the vampire does laugh fully, his head thrown back exposing his fangs and the long lines of his neck from his sharp jaw. His milky white collar bones are barely exposed in his black, button-down, long-sleeved shirt.

“No hunter,” he spits the word as if spitting a foul taste from his mouth, “would willingly subject themselves to a bite, to risk becoming that which they hunt.” 

“I would.” Your answer rings with sincerity, at least to your own ears, and you hope that the vampire can see the longing in your eyes.

“What reason would I have to give in to this request? The promise that you’ll let me out of here before daylight comes to burn me into ash? That you’ll let me out of this fire prison you’ve created? Do I look like a fool, mortal?”

“I think you’re desperate enough to make sure tonight is not your last night on Earth, and you should know that you hold all of the cards.” You take a deep breath before sharing your deepest secret with the immortal being before you, your voice rushing with a frenzied speed. “I only learned of your existence once I was an adult. Before that, I prayed to whatever gods would listen to find a way to avoid the inevitable—to escape death. You know I grew up without parents, right?” 

Yoongi only stared at you, glowing embers following your every move.

“Of course you know. I killed your progeny for their murder once I knew the truth.”

He hissed at you then, fangs extended fully as his eyes deepened with rage. He looked as if he had half a mind to grip the flame-laden cage and come after you, but held back—barely. You wait, quietly assessing him as he reins in his anger, chest no longer rising and falling in unbidden anger.

“That was a death that I deserved, and your anger will not sway how I feel about it. But it also doesn’t change what I am requesting of you. I want you to bite me.”

Min Yoongi - Present Day

Min Yoongi doesn’t believe the predicament he’s currently in. A fool! He curses himself. A damned fool to walk right into the trap you laid out for him.

The flames entrapping his body are low, but still, the heat has him on edge. His search of your mind as you speak shows no pretense, but he remembers how easily you fooled him with your thoughts just earlier today. The scent of your blood sang to him, luring him deeper into the dance studio until his mind couldn’t handle the amount; it overwhelmed him just long enough for you to pounce. 

Now that the flames have had time to thrive, the smell of burning metal drowns out the worst of your scent, and he asks you questions to buy himself time to think. But he can’t understand you fully. Your actions and words do not align with what he knows of hunters, of what he knows of you from afar. To hear you earnestly wish for him to bite you, despite knowing how hard you trained to kill his fledgling, contradicts everything he thinks he knows about the prominent hunting families. 

And still, your request piques his interest. The calmness of your body belies no deceit, no racing heart or skittered words as you barter with him as if discussing what to have for breakfast with a partner. And he’s studied your body, unbeknownst to you. He’s watched as you brought home men to fuck, heard the way your body reacted to their attempts at pleasure, the way your nervous system changed when you lied about seeing them again. Has smelled your jasmine scent and can’t lie that he’s wanted a taste…if only to then rip your pretty throat out.

He realizes in that moment that you do not know fully and truly what it is you are asking for. There are mysteries yet hidden from the mortal world about vampires, about their bite and the effect it has on the living when not immediately drained. 

Yoongi grins, finally deciding to answer your request after long moments of thought. 

“I accept your demands, hunter. I shall bite you in exchange for sparing my life.”  

You - Present Day

Your heart beats loudly in your ears as you walk away from his gaze to shut the door to the dance studio. You take a few deep breaths before turning around to walk back towards the switchboard, where you activate another switch. 

A low hum reminiscent of fluorescent lights quietly fills the quiet of the room, to which Yoongi questions. 

“Another precaution?”

You glance at him over your shoulder with a smirk.

“Just my way of making sure that you stick to your end of the bargain. Should you harm me against my will, I have a way to activate those lights lining the room, which are high-powered UV lights, and not just the ones that last for a second.” You look back at the switchboard, finger searching for the one to shut off the fire and disengage the cage. “The only way out of here safely is with my blessing.”

“Afraid of me, hunter?” His query has you pause your movements.

“Afraid of you? No. You’re my best bet at getting what I want.”

Facing the vampire, you maintain eye contact as you grip the hemline of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in as fluid a motion as you can to leave you in just a simple underwire t-shirt bra and your denim jeans—you assume his bite will still be messy, and walking out of here covered in blood seems like a sure way to attract police attention. Again, you see Yoongi take on that supernatural stillness that only creatures of the night can achieve. His eyes are like focused lasers on your body, and you feel a thrill as you reach behind you to release him. 

With unnatural speed, he blurs into your space, forcing you back towards the wall—a cold hand on your exposed hip and the other leaving a dent as it braces against the wall by your ear. 

“Any of my kind could’ve given you what you wanted. It need not be me,” he murmurs as his nose trails along your jawline seductively. But in the next moment, his fingers tighten into your skin as he growls. “So why strip and offer yourself to me?” 

You squirm in his grip, a sense of deja vu taking over as you remember the dream you had a couple of nights ago. “Because,” you gasp out, “you’re the oldest vampire I know in existence. Newer vampires have no control, killing almost immediately.” You arch in an attempt to create space off of the wall—you hate the way you feel trapped. You question whether you should have trusted your instincts about Yoongi. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere. Why would a hunter want to be bitten?” His hand leaves the wall to grab your chin. A chill sweeps down your body from the points of contact, sending goosebumps along your exposed skin. His eyes flash a luminous amber. “Tell the truth.”

Your mind feels hazy from his command, almost as if you’ve stepped outside of yourself to watch your mouth open. “I’ve always been fascinated by vampires,” your voice sounds dreamy, a wistful look upon your face, “ever since my parents died. I want to escape that fate, I want to master death.”

A low hum from Yoongi helps break the spell as his eyes ever so carefully appear to peel back the layers until he sees through to the real you. The little girl who cried at her parents funeral and vowed never to meet her maker. You sense when he makes his decision, his eyes growing lighter and his hand tilts your head to the side.

“There is much you do not know, and you know not truly what you ask for.” He inhales a breath he doesn’t need, and his voice changes, a different tone taking over. “But your body reacts—it longs for this, does it not?” he teases. “I can smell your lust, your desire.” He presses his body to yours, firm planes and muscle meeting your softer curves. You feel the closeness of his lips as they graze across yours.

A small whimper escapes your mouth. “Please,” you softly beg so your lips caress.

Yoongi’s tongue slips between your teeth in a kiss of seduction. There is no rush to his movements, only a controlled, steady pace as he meets your tongue with his. You feel his teeth prick your lip as his hand moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. There’s no sound, except for the hum of the device and your heavy breathing. Yoongi doesn’t need to breathe. 

You gasp for air when he trails featherlight kisses along your carotid artery, his hand sliding along your side and over your covered chest and onto your shoulder. Once there, he pushes your bra strap down and removes the fabric covering your breast, freeing it from the holster. His thumb circles the peak of your breast, taught from the friction. He must be enjoying the way he’s building the tension in your body, and you wonder if humans taste better to vampires when they’re aroused. 

You don’t get a chance to ask. The insertion of his fangs into your neck is nothing like your dreams. The prickle of pain as they lance open your skin fades almost instantly when you feel the first pull of your blood through your veins and into his mouth. 

You gasp, astonished as the euphoric feeling settles over you like a warm blanket and Yoongi’s arms wrap around you as he drinks from you in deep swallows. He’s taken in a few mouthfuls before he pulls away with a shudder that shakes his whole being. 

“Divine,” he whispers, blood trailing along the sides of his chin as his hands move to fully free you of your bra, then trail along your curves. The contact is exquisite, the coolness of his hands doing wonders for the flames licking underneath your skin. 

“More, touch me more, please,” you sigh, wanting nothing more than the creature who holds you in his arms. The feeling of him seems to burrow under your skin to the very depths of your soul as if he’s leaving a permanent stamp embedded. 

His deft fingers cup your breast, causing you to moan with barely any movement. “Not enough!” you whine, uncaring at your petulance. Yoongi chuckles at you. 

“Where do you want me to touch you, kitten? How do you want me to touch you? Under your jeans? Gentle or rough? Perhaps you want much more than that?”

You blink coquettishly, nodding yes and begging him to take more of your blood from you. Your hands reach for him, fingertips pulling at the edge of his clothes as if to free him of them. You’re rewarded with his alabaster skin, the light dusting of hair below his navel leading into the very pants your fingers fiddle with the button on. 

His tongue laps at your heaving chest, and you watch as he cleans away the blood that ran from the bite he left. His fingers tug at your nipples, and you give up tugging at his pants as the sensation causes your head to fall back in a breathy whine. Your fingers have worked efficiently enough though—his pants fall to the floor and he kicks them aside to join the growing pile of clothes, and you add your jeans next in haste. 

Another mewling sound leaves you when his tongue toys with your pert nipple, fangs scraping along the soft contours of your breast as he chases the last of your blood. When you feel your back hit a mirrored wall behind you, you welcome the cooling feel of the glass, though unsure of when you moved. Yoongi’s leg pries apart your thighs, hand dropping to the heat between as he presses against your still-clothed core in search of your clit. When his fingers push your panties aside and he begins to rub slippery circles against you, he chuckles lowly. 

“How wet you are, indeed, pet. Yes, I think you want much more than just my bite.”

In your own mind, you agree with his words. You want so much more than just his bite because you want all of him—his bite, his touch, his cock filling you over and over as you crest in shuddering waves of insurmountable pleasure—for all of eternity. His lips drag along your neck as he speaks, leaving small kisses between his sentences. His fingers dance along your slick opening, teasing but never broaching. Not in the ways you want him to fill you. 

He hikes up one of your legs so that it rests on his forearm, opening you up to him and at the same time that he plunges his fingers into you, he returns his mouth to your skin, placing a bite in the swell of your breast and drinking deeply. Your body thrums, blood pulsing slower to be in sync with Yoongi’s at every swallow of your life force. 

You’ve never felt this way—no one has ever finger fucked you like this, and through the roaring of your blood in your veins, you distantly hear your own voice begging him for more. The heel of his hand makes contact with your clit, and you keen when he holds the position, fingers deep inside you to rub against the spongy patch of nerves as his wrist makes circular movements to stimulate your clit. Your hands work at the buttons along his shirt, pulling with haste and faintly recognizing the ping of the buttons as they ricochet free. Shoving the cloth off his shoulders, you’re exposed to delicate collarbones, a lean torso with blush nipples and a toned chest that tapers into a narrow waist. A small smattering of unruly black hair leads a path down the center into the briefs low on his hips.

You see starbursts behind your eyes as you cum, hard, walls fluttering rapidly around his long fingers. The air in the room is thick with need, desire running so deeply in your veins that you feel lightheaded. All you want is more, more, more. It’s not enough that he bit you, not enough that he brought you to ecstasy with just his fingers. You crave everything he has to give you. As if not of your own volition, you rock against the fingers still inside you, hands reaching to pull Yoongi’s face back towards yours. 

Fingers twine with the hair at the nape of his neck, and with reckless abandon, you kiss him hard. The metallic taste of your blood mixes with a taste all his own and you relish the way the two mix into a delightful cocktail on your tongue. His fingers thrust shallowly into you as he slowly makes to remove them from your body. Your hips cant towards him, chasing the feeling until he drops your leg from his arm and you’re left empty and wanting. 

The hollowness he’s left you with makes you want to cry, but when you try to pull away from the kiss and complain, he chuckles against your lips. “Hush, kitten, we’re just getting started.”

It seems like an eternity that he’s abandoned your pleasure, but with his supernatural strength, it takes mere seconds for his hands to rip your panties from your body, rid himself of his remaining clothes, bend his knees for access to hook his elbows around the backs of your knees, and lift you up. Your back slams into the glass mirror, and you feel the way it shatters around your body, but you feel no pain. Not when the new position has your core exposed to him and his velvet, steel cock is positioned at your entrance, teasing you with what’s to come. 

The view of him between your thighs is amazing. Your eyes trail down his body, showing no shame as you rest them upon his cock, a blushing hue color fueled from your blood now pumping in his body. It’s erect, his lust for you is apparent as he flexes his hips. The tip sinks inside you with help from your first orgasm lubricating his entry, but he doesn’t let it get far before pulling back. He edges you with languid pumps, and you watch in anguish each time he retreats from your warmth. His cock glistens farther up each time he dips inside of you, and the unhinged, sex-craved and cock thirsty being inside you wants him covered in you, the smell of sex so overwhelming that people on the street can smell it. 

“Oh, yes, kitten, everyone will know all of the depraved and debaucherous things I’m going to do to you.” He thrusts in with one fluid movement, and you swear you feel him in your chest. The fullness his girth offers splits you open like you’ve never experienced before, while his length reaches deep inside you. 

A glance at Yoongi's face as he takes in your naked body proves that he too feels the snug way he fits inside of you, and is also expecting to see the bulge from the tip of his glorious cock pressing against your skin. A flash of disappointment when it doesn’t happen flits across his face, and you realize he was not joking about the depraved things he wants to do to you. 

A press of his palm to your lower abdomen has your mouth open in silent pleasure as his hips swirl delectably; the pressure provides the perfect grind of his flexing muscle against every part of you that squeezes him, and the sound as he slips through you just to thrust in again only makes your lust rage more. It’s sinful, everything about the way he’s fucking you roughly is. 

Gasping out sensual curses mixed with your name, Yoongi’s eyes flash an intense color, and as if reading your deepest thoughts, he pulls out of you and shifts away from the pane of shattered glass to one still intact. He flips you so that your breasts press to the mirrors. His fingers dig into your hips as he pulls them backward, his feet nudging your own apart. You brace yourself with your hands on the glass, breath leaving a hazy fog with each shuddering exhale of air as you find reprieve from the fire beneath your skin with a pressed cheek to the reflective wall. 

“Fuck…me…” you moan out the curse when he seats himself fully inside of you, his pelvis pressed tightly against your ass cheeks as he lets out a low, throaty growl. 

“I thought I was,” he replies smartly, but the shake to his voice shows how much restraint he’s showing. You press your ass into him as much as you can, rising onto your toes for leverage. Your eyes stare at his reflection behind you, watching as he curls his body around yours to lick at your earlobe. “I had plans of killing you, dreamt of the way I would torture you before I snapped this pretty little neck of yours, did you know?”

You didn’t know for certain, but you feel like all creatures of the night have the goal of killing humans one way or another, so it doesn’t really bother you. In fact, his words make you clench around him, because the way he’s worded it seems like these are no longer his plans. He confirms as much as his hips rock back and forth in a teasing rhythm that barely sates your needs for him. 

“I’ve decided that this pussy is just too good to go to waste, kitten.” His head drops into the crux of your neck, breathing deeply. “Your sweet blood calls to me, and will taste even more decadent when you cum around my cock,” his tongue swipes over your skin before his fangs burrow into you with such an all-consuming lust, you nearly sob with how good it feels. His hips begin a punishing pace as he wraps his arms around you, one hand going to hold your right breast as the other hand drops between your thighs. 

The pads of his first two fingertips slip around his thrusting cock, stimulating your weeping core before moving back up to strum along your clit, matching pace with each press inside of you. “You will make such a lovely creature, don’t you think? Cum for me, kitten, and I will make sure of it.” His words trigger a deep need inside you, words that soothe an ache you’ve carried since you were a child. 

Your orgasm bursts from you in an earth-shattering explosion, so heady and rippling that you fear you will black out from the strength of it. You barely feel when his teeth sink into you again. He takes a deep pull from your artery, and your high gives him exactly what you think he was searching for. It’s almost shameful the way he moans against your skin as he drinks you in, but you’re so lost to his thrall that it only makes your desire for him deeper. 

His thrusts stutter until he is no longer able to hold back, and he fills you as he rips his fangs from you. His head is thrown back as he growls through his ecstasy, and you blink slowly at his reflection, eyes tracing the veins in his neck now running red with your blood trailing from his mouth. 

With more restraint than you thought he had left, he turns to you and you feel a fog take over as he asks you a series of questions about getting out of this room safely. You answer them each methodically, as if you have no control over your words. 

You feel yourself growing more and more tired, watching every few seconds when your eyes decide to open again from each blink, bleary-eyed as Yoongi dismantles the failsafes you put in place should things go wrong. Your chest aches for him, wanting him closer to you, touching you, drinking from you. 

“Soon, 달달한 피.” He kneels before you, dressed once again, hiding his body from you. You hate it. “It’s time for us to go somewhere safe.”

He pulls you into his arms and you preen, if you could purr, your chest would be rumbling in the pleasure of the feel of him. Your head rests on his shoulder and you try to stay awake; some part of you wants to pay attention to where you’re going, but blood loss wins as you sink into a deep slumber. 

Yoongi - Several Days Later

Pain. 

Your body thrashes with pain as the blood you just consumed spreads throughout your system. The last few days after leaving the ballet studio and entering Yoongi’s…home, for lack of a better word, has been full of the most exquisite satisfaction your body has ever experienced. You told him as much each night since arriving.

He’s reveled in giving into his most debased fantasies, and your body is covered in the proof; bruises littering your skin, chafing around your wrists and ankles, blood staining the rug beneath his feet where he now stands, watching you. 

Yoongi hasn’t turned a mortal in almost 200 years—not since he turned the one you killed. You make a better replacement for her in many ways, he thinks. Your beauty, your mind, your 달달한 피, or sweet blood, which he can’t wait to taste once you’re resurrected. And because this is the longest he has gone since bestowing the Dark Gift upon a being, not to mention that he is closer to 400 years than he likes to admit, he is sure you will be powerful beyond belief. 

He heals his wrist and glances at the time; he chose to turn you at sunset so he had time to prepare before he needs to rest. The marble walls that surround the underground basement bedroom of Yoongi’s home echo with your sounds of pain, so Yoongi leaves you in the bed as he ventures towards another wing. He knows that when the sun sets again, you shall be ravenous, and he needs the help of his brothers to bring in enough sustenance for when you wake. 

His maker, Namjoon, lounges in his study with a beautiful woman straddling his hips. Her skin tone is darker than his, and their coloring makes a beautiful picture of caramel and chocolate swirls. She is draped over him, arms wrapped around Namjoon’s neck as she bucks her hips slowly against him, no doubt riding his cock now for several hours. Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to enter and approach him; he’s used to such displays.

Namjoon licks his lips as he pulls his mouth from her neck, and then smiles up at Yoongi from his couch. 

“Well done, enthralling the last of that hunter family. One less family we need to worry about.”

Yoongi focuses on Namjoon’s face, trying to ignore the whimpering moans from the woman getting off in front of him. It’s making his own cock stir, and he’s tempted to join in, but then he wouldn’t have time to gather the blood you need. He indulges for a few moments longer though, watching the way her supple breasts press against Namjoon’s firm chest as she kisses along his neck. 

“You can join, brother. Would you like her mouth or her ass?”

Yoongi shakes his head but continues to enjoy watching the beautiful woman as she rides his maker. He’s tented in his jeans, but that’s also a normal occurrence for all of the men living here, since you can always find someone having sex at any moment. 

“I wanted to let you know that I will be inviting a few mortals over. I plan to head out with the others and gather a few.”

Glee arises on Namjoon’s face. “You’ve given her your blood, brother? Oh, this is brilliant. Another one to add to our flock! We haven’t had anyone else in years.” He sighs out in content and then murmurs something into the woman’s ear which has her shuddering. He sinks his fangs into her to enjoy her orgasm before turning back to Yoongi. 

“I can’t wait to meet your newest fledgling, Yoongi. I must know though…will you be possessive or is she one we all can share?”

Yoongi smiles, his fangs poking into his bottom lip as he grins at his maker over the shoulder of the woman who is now leaning away, head thrown back as she bounces on Namjoon’s cock with a fierceness of someone chasing a fourth or fifth orgasm.

“I think she may be open to sharing, brother, she should awake tomorrow at sunset.”

Yoongi turns away with a chuckle as he heads to find any of the other five of their flock to accompany him to the bar.  

You - The Next Sunset      

It’s disorienting how clear everything looks to you. You gasp as a hunger you’ve never felt before takes you into its grip and takes over your mind. Lurching out of the bed you’ve been fucked in every which way since arriving, you clutch at your neck. The hunger burns. 

“Come here, kitten, I’ve got what you need right here.”

You turn to the voice, and a bright splash of scarlet comes into view. You don’t even think about it, you just bring it to your mouth and drink messily. You latch on and slurp down as much as you can, wanting every last drop to sate the intensity, but the voice tugs you away. You feel anger but then you’re given another warm mouthful of scarlet and indulge gluttonously. 

This time, when the voice calls to you, there is no anger, only a need to follow, to go to the voice and await more from it. From him. Yoongi. Your memories flood you all at once, a pulsing thrum as your pussy throbs now that the blood from the drowsy humans is in your veins, and you search for him. 

When you find him, you stumble up from your knees away from the bodies and throw yourself into his arms. You realize you’re still naked when he maneuvers your body so that your thighs are on either side of his, bulge from his jeans rubbing your core from the friction. Leaning into you he kisses you languidly, tongue cleaning up some of the mess you left behind before swirling with your tongue to share the taste of the humans in a kiss. 

Your hips grind against him, the kiss turning sexual in moments and Yoongi growls in response to your libido, now heightened after death. 

“Fuck,” he groans as you unzip his jeans and reverently pull his cock from his boxers, and using a combination of the blood dripping on your chest and your spit, begin to stroke him with firm movements.  

Moments later you return to your first position, straddling Yoongi as you sink onto him repeatedly, one hand gripping your ass and the other in your hair, keeping your mouth on his. 

‘Just like that, beautiful, he likes when his cock is buried deep inside a pretty girl.’

You gasp as you hear a melodic voice in your head, turning your head behind you to see six men watching you take Yoongi’s cock as his lips trail down your neck and chest.

You cock an eyebrow at the men, all so beautiful, you could cry at their jaw lines and angles, broad shoulders and dilated eyes. 

“Yoongi, I didn’t realize you liked an audience,” you tease as you slow your movements and put on a show, pushing Yoongi’s shoulders down to the mattress so that when your chests meet, the view of how well you take him, how well he splits you open as you sink down and envelop him to the hilt, is visible to all of them. 

“I like an audience, kitten, and sometimes I like when the audience joins in.” The look he’s giving you as you continue to ride him lets you know the question he’s asking you. 

“With this new immortal lust of mine, I think I’d like that too.”

Sealing your decision with a bite to Yoongi’s neck, you take a deep pull as you feel the bed dip with the weight of the others joining you for what you hope will be the height of immortal lust that will last an eternity.  

The END

달달한 피 (daldalhan pi)- “sweet blood”

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine 2024. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[paganimagevault]

Miscellaneous Hungarian archaeological items from the migration era, from the Urals to the Carpathians 9th-10th C. CE. Sources can be found on my blog, link at bottom.

The Magyars, as a nation, seem to have originated in the region of the Urals and Volga and their original territory covered a large amount of what is European Russia today. This region was known as Magna Hungaria or Ancient Hungary in the Middle Ages. In the 13th century Christian monks tried unsuccessfully to convert the Pagan inhabitants of Ancient Hungary, who they noted spoke the same language as the Hungarians in the Carpathian Basin (will post more on this later). Now genetics show they were related too. Some of the Hungarians in the Carpathian region were found to be direct family members of these Uralic-based Hungarians according to this genetic study below. I grabbed some highlights of genetics article here and included some archaeological image finds:

"Two recent articles have investigated the Y-haplogroup variability of Hungarian conquerors describing the conqueror’s elite population as heterogenous, with significant proportion of European, Finno-Permic, Caucasian and Siberian (or East Eurasian) paternal lineages. Fóthi et al. have claimed that the Hungarian conquerors originated from three distant sources: Inner Asia (Lake Baikal – Altai Mountains), Western Siberia – Southern Urals (Finno-Ugric peoples) and the Black Sea – Northern Caucasus (Northern Caucasian Turks, Alans, and Eastern Europeans). Both studies pointed out the presence of the Y-haplogroup N-Z1936 (also known as N3a4-Z1936 under N-Tat/M46), which is frequent among Finno-Ugric speaking peoples.

...The genetic connection of Uyelgi cemetery in the Trans-Ural and 10th century Hungarian conquerors in the Carpathian Basin is supposed by close maternal relationships of the following individuals: Uyelgi3 from Kurgan 28 of the youngest horizon and three Hungarian conquerors from Karos II cemetery have identical U4d2 mitogenome haplotype (Supplementary Fig. S4p). Furthermore, the mtDNA A12a lineage of Hconq3 (30-40 years old woman from Harta cemetery dated to the first half of 10th century AD) is an ancestor of the mtDNA lineage of Uyelgi7 (from Kurgan 30 of the youngest horizon of the cemetery) based on the A12a haplogroup tree (see Supplementary Fig. S4a).

The mentioned graves from Uylegi show the characteristic of the Srostki culture, where the gilt silver mounts with plant ornaments were typical, and which was disseminated from the Siberian Minusinsk Depression and the Altai region through the Baraba Steppe and North-Kazakhstan to the Trans-Ural region (Fig. 1).

The connection of Uyelgi cemetery and Hungarian conquerors is visible on the N1a1a1a1a branch of the tree of haplogroup N1a1 too, that was prevalent among the ancient Hungarians (Fig. 5). Here seven Hungarian conqueror samples from cemeteries Kenézlő-Fazekaszug, Orosháza-Görbicstanya and Karos-Eperjesszög clustered together on one branch, while the five Uyelgi samples from the earliest and latest horizons are located together next to this branch.

Majority of Uyelgi males belonged to Y chromosome haplogroup N, and according to combined STR, SNP and Network analyses they belong to the same subclade within N-M46 (also known as N-tat and N1a1-M46 in ISOGG 14.255). N-M46 nowadays is a geographically widely distributed paternal lineage from East of Siberia to Scandinavia. One of its subclades is N-Z1936 (also known as N3a4 and N1a1a1a1a2 in ISOGG 14.255), which is prominent among Uralic speaking populations, probably originated from the Ural region as well and mainly distributed from the West of Ural Mountains to Scandinavia (Finland). Seven samples of Uyelgi site most probably belong to N-Y24365 (also known as N-B545 and N1a1a1a1a2a1c2 in ISOGG 14.255) under N-Z1936, a specific subclade that can be found almost exclusively in todays’ Tatarstan, Bashkortostan and Hungary (ISOGG, Yfull)."

-Early Medieval Genetic Data from Ural Region Evaluated in the Light of Archaeological Evidence of Ancient Hungarians

[beardedmrbean]

SACRAMENTO, Calif. (AP) — California and Nevada voters will decide in November whether to ban forced prison labor by removing language from their state constitutions rooted in the legacy of chattel slavery.

The measures aim to protect incarcerated people from being forced to work under the threat of punishment in the states, where it is not uncommon for prisoners to be paid less than $1 an hour to fight fires, clean prison cells, make license plates or do yard work at cemeteries.

Nevada incarcerates about 10,000 people. All prisoners in the state are required to work or be in vocational training for 40 hours each week, unless they have a medical exemption. Some of them make as little as 35 cents hourly.

Voters will weigh the proposals during one of the most historic elections in modern history, said Jamilia Land, an advocate with the Abolish Slavery National Network who has spent years trying to get the California measure passed.

“California, as well as Nevada, has an opportunity to end legalized, constitutional slavery within our states, in its entirety, while at the same time we have the first Black woman running for president,” she said of Vice President Kamala Harris’ historic bid as the first Black and Asian American woman to earn a major party’s nomination for the nation’s highest office.

Several other states such as Colorado, Alabama and Tennessee have in recent years done away with exceptions for slavery and involuntary servitude, though the changes were not immediate. In Colorado — the first state to get rid of an exception for slavery from its constitution in 2018 — incarcerated people alleged in a lawsuit filed in 2022 against the corrections department that they had still been forced to work.

“What it did do — it created a constitutional right for a whole class of people that didn’t previously exist,” said Kamau Allen, a co-founder of the Abolish Slavery National Network who advocated for the Colorado measure.

Nevada's proposal aims to abolish from the constitution both slavery and involuntary servitude as punishment for crime. California’s constitution was changed in the 1970s to remove an exemption for slavery, but the involuntary servitude exception remains on the books.

Wildland firefighting is among the most sought-after prison work programs in Nevada. Those eligible for the program are paid around $24 per day.

“There are a lot of people who are incarcerated that want to do meaningful work. Now are they treated fairly? No,” said Chris Peterson, legal director at the American Civil Liberties Union of Nevada, which supports the measure. “They’re getting paid pennies on the hour, where other people get paid dollars, to do incredibly dangerous work.”

Peterson pointed to a state law that created a modified workers’ compensation program for incarcerated people who are injured on the job. Under that program, the amount awarded is based on the person’s average monthly wage when the injury occurred.

In 2016, Darrell White, an injured prison firefighter who filed a claim under the modified program, learned he would receive a monthly disability payment of “$22.30 for a daily rate of $0.50.” By then, White already had been freed from prison, but he was left unable to work for months while he recovered from surgery to repair his fractured finger, which required physical therapy.

White sued the state prison system and Division of Forestry, saying his disability payments should have been calculated based on the state’s minimum wage of $7.25 at the time. The case went all the way up to the Nevada Supreme Court, which rejected his appeal, saying it remained an “open question” whether Nevada prisoners were constitutionally entitled to minimum wage compensation.

“It should be obvious that it is patently unfair to pay Mr. White $0.50 per day,” his lawyer, Travis Barrick, wrote in the appeal, adding that White's needs while incarcerated were minimal compared to his needs after his release, including housing and utilities, food and transportation. “It is inconceivable that he could meet these needs on $0.50 per day.”

The California state Senate rejected a previous version of the proposal in 2022 after Democratic Gov. Gavin Newsom's administration cited concerns about the cost if the state had to start paying all prisoners the minimum wage.

Newsom signed a law earlier this year that would require the Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation to create a voluntary work program. The agency would set wages for people incarcerated in state prisons under the law. But the law would only take effect if voters approve the forced labor ban.

The law and accompanying measure will give incarcerated people more of an opportunity for rehabilitation through therapy or education instead of being forced to work, said California Assemblymember Lori Wilson, a Democrat representing Solano County who authored this year's proposal.

Wilson suffered from trauma growing up in a household with dysfunction and abuse, she said. She was able to work through her trauma by going to therapy. But her brother, who did not get the same help, instead ended up in prison, she said.

“It's just a tale of two stories of what happens when someone who has been traumatized, has anger issues and gets the rehabilitative work that they need to — what they could do with their life,” Wilson said.

Yannick Ortega, a formerly incarcerated woman who now works at an addiction recovery center in Fresno, California, was forced to work various jobs during the first half of her time serving 20 years in prison for a murder conviction, she said.

“When you are sentenced to prison, that is the punishment,” said Ortega, who later became a certified paralegal and substance abuse counselor by pursuing her education while working in prison. “You’re away from having the freedom to do anything on your own accord.”

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

A day late & a dollar short but here’s my book list from this year! Lots of good ones. Plenty of bad ones. I have Strong Opinions on almost everything! So send me an ask about your most loved or loathed & it’ll give me something to look forward to for after work!

(The 5 or so books started but not finished before yesterday were not included, nor were single issue comics of which there were many or audio dramas.)

Books Read 2024

Audio:

Gideon the Ninth - the locked tomb

A court of frost & starlight

A court of silver flames

All systems Red - Murderbot diaries

Artificial condition - murderbot diaries

The lost apothecary

Rogue protocol - murderbot diaries

Exit strategy - murderbot diaries

Network effect - murderbot diaries

Harrow the Ninth - the locked tomb

Nona the ninth - the locked tomb

Fugitive telemetry - murderbot diaries

Ninth house - Alex stern

Hell Bent - Alex stern

Out of character

We could be so good

Practical Magic

Such sharp teeth

System collapse - murderbot diaries

Lord of shadows - the dark artifices

Queen of air and darkness - the dark artifices

Neverwhere (and how the marquis de carabas got his coat back)

If we were villains

The song of Achilles

Chain of gold (and fairytale of London) - the last hours

Storm front - the Dresden files

Chain of iron (and one must always be careful of books) - the last hours

Chain of thorns (and ought but death) - the last hours

Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell

Fool moon - the Dresden files

Grave peril - the Dresden files

Summer knight - the Dresden files

Midnight in the garden of good and evil

Circe

Last call at the local

The ladies of grace adieu & other stories

Factory girls

Flyaway

Death Masks - the Dresden files

Blood rites - the Dresden files

Dead beat - the Dresden files

The end of the world is a cul de sac

The southern book club’s guide to slaying vampires

Proven guilty - the Dresden files

Murder on the orient express

Children of blood and bone

Atalanta

The final girl support group

The cemetery of untold stories

White night - the Dresden files

The atlas six

The atlas paradox (& sacred hospitality short story)

The magician’s nephew - narnia

The lion, the witch, and the wardrobe - narnia

The horse and his boy - narnia

Prince caspian - narnia

The last boyfriends rules for revenge

The voyage of the Dawn treader - narnia

The silver chair - narnia

The last battle - Narnia

You should be so lucky

The atlas complex

Interview with the vampire - vampire chronicles

White cat - curse workers

Red glove - curse workers

Black heart - curse workers

The queer principles of kit Webb

The lost sisters

The perfect crimes of Marian Hayes

Small favor - Dresden files

Turn coat - Dresden files

So this is ever after

The Vampire Lestat - vampire chronicles

Working for Bigfoot - Dresden files

Changes - Dresden files

The Queen of the damned - vampire chronicles

Lyra’s oxford

The tale of the body thief - vampire chronicles

Side jobs - Dresden files

Ghost story - Dresden files

Memnoch the Devil - vampire chronicles

Cold days - Dresden files

The pairing

Shadowed souls - Dresden files

Skin game - Dresden files

Renegades - renegades trilogy

Archenemies - renegades trilogy

Supernova - renegades trilogy

Masters of death

The nightmare before kissmas

Brief cases - Dresden files

The familiar

Physical:

Young Avengers - gillen & mckelvie run

Men at arms

Ghosts of the shadow market

The red scrolls of magic

The lost book of the white

Soul music

Free country a tale of the children’s crusade

Romancing the beat

Mighty nein origins: Beauregard lionett

Mighty nein origins: caduceus clay

The prisoner’s throne

Sex criminals vol 1

Sex criminals vol 2

Sex criminals vol 3

The pairing

Sex criminals vol 4

American vampire vol 1

American vampire vol 2

American vampire vol 3

Sex criminals vol 5

Sex criminals vol 6

American vampire vol 4

American vampire vol 5

Young Avengers - original run

The Saturday night ghost club

Batgirl: Stephanie Brown vol 1

Batgirl: Stephanie Brown vol 2

[thoughtportal]

Police in the Turkish city of Adana detained 11 suspects, five Israeli and two Syrian, on allegations of organ trafficking, the Daily Sabah reported on 5 May.

Israel has long been at the center of what Bloomberg described in 2011 as a “sprawling global black market in organs  where brokers use deception, violence, and coercion to buy kidneys from impoverished people, mainly in underdeveloped countries, and then sell them to critically ill patients in more-affluent nations.”

In 2009, Sweden’s largest daily newspaper, Aftonbladet, reported testimony that the Israeli army was kidnapping and murdering Palestinians to harvest their organs.

On 30 January, WAFA news agency reported that the Israeli army returned the bodies of 100 Palestinian civilians it had stolen from hospitals and cemeteries in various areas in Gaza. 

{read}

[itsneilcochrane]

2025 TBR

Goal: Catch up on/read/dismiss all the series that have been languishing in my TBR

Beginning with ones I started recently, followed by ones that will include at least one re-read, then complete and new-to-me ones, and last but not least, incomplete and new-to-me.

This doesn't include books I must read for my book clubs, or the several manga series I'm following, lolsob.

List (in a rough but quickly deteriorating order) below the cut!

Reread Owned/have access to Currently reading (as of 2-20) Read

A Restless Truth (The Last Binding #2)

A Power Unbound (The Last Binding #3)

A Drop of Corruption (Shadow of the Leviathan #2)

Infinity Alchemist (Infinity Alchemist #1)

Chaos King (Infinity Alchemist #2)

Sir Callie and the Dragon's Roost (Sir Callie #2)

Sir Callie and the Witch's War (Sir Callie #3)

Sir Callie and the Final Stand (Sir Callie #4)

The Daughter's War (Blacktongue #0)

The Unspoken Name (The Serpent Gates #1)

The Thousand Eyes (The Serpent Gates #2)

The Shadow of the Wind (Cemetery of Forgotten Books #1)

The Angel's Game (Cemetery of Forgotten Books #2)

The Prisoner of Heaven (Cemetery of Forgotten Books #3)

The Labyrinth of the Spirits (Cemetery of Forgotten Books #4)

The City of Mist (Cemetery of Forgotten Books #5)

Godkiller (Fallen Gods #1)

Sunbringer (Fallen Gods #2)

Faithbreaker (Fallen Gods #3)

All Systems Red (Murderbot Diaries #1)

Artificial Condition (Murderbot Diaries #2)

Rogue Protocol (Murderbot Diaries #3)

Exit Strategy (Murderbot Diaries #4)

Network Effect (Murderbot Diaries #5)

Fugitive Telemetry (Murderbot Diaries #6)

System Collapse (Murderbot Diaries #7)

Necrotech (SINless #1)

Nanoshock (SINless #2)

A Memory Called Empire (Teixcalaan #1)

A Desolation Called Peace (Teixcalaan #2)

The Thread That Binds (The Eternal Library #1)

The Tale That Twines (The Eternal Library #2)

The Outside (The Outside #1)

The Fallen (The Outside #2)

The Infinite (The Outside #3)

Dust and Light (The Sanctuary Duet #1)

Ash and Silver (The Sanctuary Duet #2)

The Thousand Names (The Shadow Campaigns #1)

The Shadow Throne (The Shadow Campaigns #2)

The Price of Valor (The Shadow Campaigns #3)

The Guns of Empire (The Shadow Campaigns #4)

A Discovery of Witches (All Souls #1)

Shadow of Night (All Souls #2)

The Book of Life (All Souls #3)

Time's Convert (All Souls #4)

The Black Bird Oracle (All Souls #5)

Black Sun (Between Earth and Sky #1)

Fevered Star (Between Earth and Sky #2)

Mirrored Heavens (Between Earth and Sky #3)

My Heart is a Chainsaw (Indian Lake #1)

Don't Fear the Reaper (Indian Lake #2)

The Angel of Indian Lake (Indian Lake #3)

The Four Profound Weaves (Birdverse #1)

Cemetery Boys (Cemetery Boys #1)

City of Strife (City of Spires #1)

Fathomfolk (Drowned World #1)

Iron Widow (Iron Widow #1)

Heavenly Tyrant (Iron Widow #2)

Ship of Magic (Liveship Traders #1)

An Accident of Stars (Manifold Worlds #1)

That Time I Got Drunk and Saved a Demon (Mead Mishaps #1)

To Shape a Dragon's Breath (Nampeshiweisit #1)

The Jasmine Throne (The Burning Kingdoms #1)

A Master of Djinn (The Dead Djinn Universe #1)

Thornfruit (The Gardener's Hand #1)

The Half-Drowned King (The Golden Wolf Saga #1)

The Halves of Us (The Halves of Us #1)

The Poppy War (The Poppy War #1)

She Who Became the Sun (The Radiant Emperor Duology #1)

He Who Drowned the World (The Radiant Emperor Duology #2)

Witch King (The Rising World #1)

The Empress of Salt and Fortune (The Singing Hills Cycle)

The Witch Boy (The Witch Boy #1)

Every Heart a Doorway (Wayward Children #1)

We Set the Dark on Fire (We Set the Dark on Fire #1)

Dawn (Xenogenesis #1)

The Heretic's Guide to Homecoming (The Heretic's Guide to Homecoming #1)

Empire of Sand (Books of Amber #1)

[conjuremanj]

Marie Laveau. Voodoo Queen.

Marie Catherine Laveau (September 10, 1801 – June 15, 1881) was a Louisiana Creole (free women of color) practitioner of Voodoo, herbalist and midwife who was renowned in New Orleans. Her daughter, Marie Laveau II (1827 – c. 1862), also practiced rootwork, conjure, Native American and African spiritualism as well as New Orleans Voodoo. Her daughter was to me the most powerful one.

Her Real Story. Her house was probably on St. Ann St. She would have lived in a creole cottage similar to the one in this picture but probably not as clean.

She did have kids with her husband but there's no record of them as adults so they probably died young. Her and her husband did get married at St Louis cathedral he was a Haitian man. Then sometime around 1825. Jacques Perry her husband so called disappeared they tried to make it a big mystery but in all honesty people back then didn't really report that loved ones death. After St Louis cathedral burned down they lost all the records so later on she started calling herself the widow Perry which gives the idea that Jacques did die. The story of her actually being a hairdresser there is no record her being a hairdresser there was a book that was written by George Washington Cabal in 1880 who wrote about a voodoo priestess who was a hairdresser and people later on assume that he was speaking about Marie Laveau which I think is a cool story to keep her memory alive. There is only one article that mentions her and voodoo but we don't know a 100% if she did practice it or not, I think she did as well as being a root worker. Now there was also another man Kristoff Glapion and one of the stores that they have of him is that he was born a free man of color but records show that he was actually born of two white parents. She wasn't married to this man kristoff because at that time a black woman could not marry a white man but she did stay with him and lived their with him until his death. The historian believe they stayed together for probably around 30 years. She did pout him in the Perry tomb. After kristoff died she was in so much financial debt they had to sell off the house on Saint Ann Street to pay for his funeral and anything else that needs to be paid off. So she didn't have a place to stay until one of their family friends name Crocker bought the property and let her stay there until she died.

HER FATHER'S ETHNICITY : She was born Marie Laveaux, as her father was Charles Laveaux. Many sources are in error stating her father was a White plantation owner. He in fact was a Mulatto grocery store owner, born a free man of color. He is allegedly the son of Charles (Don Carlo) Trudeau and an unknown Laveaux.

Legend.

The legend of Marie Laveau it runs deep through the veins of New Orleans. The Voodoo priestess was believed to have been born free in the French Quarter of New Orleans, Louisiana, about 1794, the daughter of a white planter and a free Creole woman of color.

The source of this power was the Voodoo religion and its queen, Marie Laveau. She was worshiped at the same time she's was feared by people of all races. Some people believe that her powers were actually based on a network of informants. Being a hairdresser, she was able to lesson to her clients (mostly white) gossip. She used this inside information to influence and instill fear in her believers. Whether or not the legends of this Voodoo priestess are true, it cannot be denied that she has left her mark on the city. She was buried in Saint Louis Cemetery No. 1 in New Orleans in 1881. Her daughter in St Louis cemetery no. 2

MARIE LAVEAU II MYSTERY: There is myth and mystery behind a named Marie Laveau II. No document listed a Marie Laveau II as Marie Laveau's daughter, but the name sure does have a crazy story behind it, claiming that Marie Laveau had magically become Marie Laveau II so she could live on forever. Truth is, Marie had a daughter named Marie who was a devout Catholic as well as Marie-Heloise who did not turn to Voodoo and died in her 30s. Any of those Maries could have been twisted into the stories, by name only, as none of them were Voodoo practitioners as far as we know.

To this day her and her daughters tomb continues to attract visitors who unlawfully desecrate it by marking three “X”s (XXX) on its side, in the hopes that Laveau’s spirit will grant them a wish. Ok, let me say first no one who practices Voodoo whenever desecrate a grave of writing on it second she isn't a voodoo spirit since Louisiana Voodoo is part Haitian and African she's not a elevated spirit. She's a woman that is well known and well respected within our city. What she really is in voodoo. She's a conjured spirit similar to a saint she is called upon to do a specific task.

Here is a pic I took of the largest international Marie laveau shrine in the US.

BECOMING A DEVOTEE: these days Marie Laveau devotees are no different they still believe in Jesus and saints, just as Madame Marie did. They go to church, pray the rosary, and work the gris gris. Some voodooist here in New Orleans believe Marie Laveau is one of the Lwa (Loa) in Voodoo tradition. She is not a elevated spirit but is a folk saint. She is honored on many altars and shrines through New Orleans. People pray to her or even make wishes to her. Understand who she was and what she did for people and the city. The rituals and blessings she preformed like the St John's Eve blessings. So get to know her.

BUILDING AN ALTAR Building her altar isn't complicated a statue or pic of her. You can add flowers. Candles white, blue or red or even add her veves. (symbol) (normally she wouldn't have the symbol because she's not a voodoo spirit but she's important so they made one for her anyway)

OFFERING: This can be flowers, mini liquor bottle, cigarettes, cigars. Money she's not picky.

Your relationship with spirit will be different from the next person’s. The connection you make with Marie Laveau will be unique to only you.

This video I took of her shrine in The Healing Center. In New Orleans.

If your in the city check it out on St Claude in the building is the Island of Salvation Botanica own by priestess Sally Ann.

[bloghrexach]

💥 … Israeli organ trafficking network!! New? — not really!! They mess with them in every imaginable way!!

By: LaillaB, founder of ‘Reclaim the Narrative’, from LinkedIn …

“Police in the Turkish city of Adana detained 11 suspects, five Israeli and two Syrian, on allegations of organ trafficking, the Daily Sabah reported on 5 May.

The Provincial Directorate of Security’s Anti-Smuggling and Border Gates Branch began investigating after examining the passports of seven individuals who arrived in Adana from Israel about a month ago by plane for the purpose of health tourism.

The two Syrian nationals, ages 20 and 21, were found to have fake passports and further investigation revealed that Syrian nationals had each agreed to sell one of their own kidneys to two of the Israeli nationals, ages 68 and 28, for kidney transplants in Adana.

During searches at the suspects’ residences, $65,000 and numerous fake passports were seized.

Israel has long been at the center of what Bloomberg described in 2011 as a “sprawling global black market in organs where brokers use deception, violence, and coercion to buy kidneys from impoverished people, mainly in underdeveloped countries, and then sell them to critically ill patients in more-affluent nations.”

The financial newspaper added, “Many of the black-market kidneys harvested by these gangs are destined for people who live in Israel.”

In 2009, Sweden’s largest daily newspaper, Aftonbladet, reported testimony that the Israel was kidnapping and murdering Palestinians to harvest their organs.

The report quotes Palestinian claims that young men from the occupied West Bank and Gaza Strip had been seized by Israel, and their bodies returned to the families with missing organs.

“‘Our sons are used as involuntary organ donors,’ relatives of Khaled from Nablus told me, as did the mother of Raed from Jenin as well as the uncles of Machmod and Nafes from Gaza, who all had disappeared for a few days and returned by night, dead and autopsied,” wrote Donald Bostrom, the author of the report.

Israel’s Channel 2 TV reported that in the 1990s, Abu Kabir Forensic Medicine Institute harvested skin, corneas, heart valves, and bones from the bodies of Israeli soldiers, Israeli citizens, Palestinians, and foreign workers without permission from relatives.

The Israeli military confirmed that the practice took place but claimed, “This activity ended a decade ago and does not happen any longer.”

Israel’s assault on Gaza since 7 Oct has provided further opportunities for the theft and harvesting of Palestinians’ organs.

On 18 Jan, the Times of Israel reported that Israel confirmed reports that its soldiers dug up graves in a Gaza cemetery, claiming its soldiers were trying to “confirm that the bodies of hostages were not buried there.”

On 30 Jan, WAFA news agency reported that Israel returned the bodies of 100 Palestinians it had stolen from hospitals and cemeteries in various areas in Gaza. According to medical sources, inspection of some of the bodies showed that organs were missing from some of them.

Here we don't pray for the weak, we prey on the weak.” … 💥

#reclaimthenarrative —🕊🍉 — #FreePalestine … @hrexach …

[brookston]

Holidays 10.29

Holidays

Black Salsify Day (French Republic)

Bob Ross Day (Abeldane Empire)

Candies Day

Coronation Day (Cambodia)

C6HO Day (Kentucky)

Cumhuriyet Bayrami (North Cyprus, Turkey)

Cyrus the Great Day (Iran)

Feed the Birds Day (UK)

Festival of Global Climate Change

Fiestas Patrias begins (Honduras)

Halloween Eve Eve

Hermit Day

Hide From Everyone Day (a.k.a. Hermit Day)

International Internet Day

Laugh Suddenly For No Reason A Lot Today Day

Naming Day (Tanzania)

National Boner Day

National Book Day (Brazil)

National Cat Daddy Day

National Cat Day

National Hermit Day

National Martina Day

Oatmeal Day

PSC Awareness Day

Sea Slug Day

Separation of Church and State Day

Turkish Republic Day (Turkey)

World Online Networking Day

World Psoriasis Day

World Stroke Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Gnocchi Day (Argentina)

National Disgusting Little Pumpkin-Shaped Candies Day

National Oatmeal Day

Poperinge Beer & Hop Festival begins (Belgium) [Every 3 years, 3rd Friday, but postponed from 2021]

5th & Last Sunday in October

European Summer Times Ends (EU) [Last Sunday]

International Creole Day (Dominica, Saint Lucia) [Last Sunday]

Jounen Kwéyòl (Creole Day; Dominica, Saint Lucia) [Last Sunday]

National Grandparents Day (Australia) [Last Sunday]

National Student Baptism Day [Last Sunday]

Reformation Sunday [Last Sunday]

Visit a Cemetery Day [Last Sunday]

World Swim Hat Day [Last Sunday]

Independence Days

Turkey (from Ottoman Empire, 1923)

Westarctica (Declared; 2017) [unrecognized]

Feast Days

Abraham of Rostov (Christian; Saint)

Andrei Ryabushkin (Artology)

Chef (a.k.a. Theuderius; Christian; Saint)

Chiara Badano (Christian; Blessed)

Colman mac Duagh (Christian; Saint)

Douai Martyrs (Christian; Saint)

Gaetano Errico (Christian; Saint)

Ghatasthapana begins (Nepal)

Isis/Osiris Mysteries II (Pagan)

James Hannington (Anglicanism)

Kojagrat Purnima [15th Day of Dashain]

Lazarus Long Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Mary of Edessa (Christian; Saint)

Maximillian (Christian; Saint)

Narcissus of Jerusalem (Roman Catholic Church)

Nut Day (Pastafarian)

Robertson (Positivist; Saint)

Warren the Warthog (Muppetism)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Historically Unlucky Day [10 of 11]

Historically Bad Day (Stock Market Crash, Hurricane Sandy & 8 other tragedies) [10 of 11]

Lucky Day (Philippines) [58 of 71]

Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]

Premieres

All I Want for Christmas Is You, by Mariah Carey (Song; 1994)

The Autobiography of Malcolm X, with Alex Haley (Biography; 1965)

Being John Malkovich (Film; 1999)

Blue Moon, 24th Jack Reacher book, by Lee Child (Novel; 2019)

Bullwinkle Busts a Brush or The Cleft Palette (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S5, Ep. 226; 1963)

BUtterfield 8, by John O'Hara (Roman à clef Novel; 1935)

Create Dangerously, by Albert Camus (manifesto; 1957)

Don Giovanni, by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Opera; 1787)

The Fleischmann’s Yeast Hour (Radio Series; 1929)

Get Nervous, by Pat Benatar (Album; 1982)

The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest (Film; 2010)

Hemispheres, by Rush (Album; 1978)

Hulu (Streaming Network; 2007)

The Huntley-Brinkley Report (TV News Show; 1956)

Jingle Bell Rock, recorded by Bobby Helm (Song; 1957)

Keeping Up Appearances (UK TV Series; 1990)

Last Night in Soho (Film; 2021)

Man of the Century (Film; 1999)

Mind Games, by John Lennon (Album; 1973)

My Generation, by The Who (Song; 1965)

The Nightmare Before Christmas (Animated Film; 1993)

The Portrait of a Lady, by Henry James (Novel; 1880)

Portrait of a Moose or Bullwinkle Gets the Brush (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S5, Ep. 225; 1963)

Princess Mononoke (Anime Film; 1999)

Ray (Film; 2004)

Red Riding Hoodwinked (WB LT Cartoon; 1955)

Scooby-Doo, Where Are You Now! (WB Animated Film; 2021)

The Sentinel, 25th Jack Reacher book, by Lee Child (Novel; 2020)

Trip for Tat (WB MM Cartoon; 1960)

Welcome to the Pleasure Dome, by Frankie Goes to Hollywood (Album; 1984)

What’ll I Do?, recorded by Frank Sinatra (Song; 1947)

Wild Target (Film; 2010)

Today’s Name Days

Ermelina, Hermelindis, Melinda (Austria)

Časlav, Honorat, Ida, Narcis (Croatia)

Silvie (Czech Republic)

Narcissus (Denmark)

Alf, Alfred, Fred, Fredi (Estonia)

Alfred, Urmasimo (Finland)

Narcisse (France)

Ermelinda, Franco, Grete, Melinda (Germany)

Abramios, Melina (Greece)

Nárcisz (Hungary)

Ermelinda, Michela, Massimiliano (Italy)

Elva, Elvijs, Fortuna, Laimonis (Latvia)

Gelgaudas, Narcizas, Tolvydė, Violeta (Lithuania)

Noralf, Norunn (Norway)

Euzebia, Franciszek, Longin, Longina, Lubogost, Narcyz, Teodor, Wioletta (Poland)

Anastasia (Romania)

Zinaida (Russia)

Klára (Slovakia)

Narciso (Spain)

Viola (Sweden)

Garrison, Cyrano, Cyrena, Narcissa, Narcissus (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 302 of 2024; 63 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of week 43 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Gort (Ivy) [Day 27 of 28]

Chinese: Month 9 (Ten-Xu), Day 15 (Geng-Shen)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 14 Heshvan 5784

Islamic: 14 Rabi II 1445

J Cal: 2 Mir; Twosday [2 of 30]

Julian: 16 October 2023

Moon: 99%: Waning Gibbous

Positivist: 22 Descartes (11th Month) [Robertson]

Runic Half Month: Hagal (Hailstone) [Day 3 of 15]

Season: Autumn (Day 36 of 89)

Zodiac: Scorpio (Day 6 of 29)

[sufferawitchrp]

⯎ SUBPLOT No. IV — SURRENDER THE NIGHT ⯎

TW: description of a corpse, illness mention

Pressed against the edge of a jet black horizon, a tall structure loomed in the distance. Its windows were all aglow, the blazing light from a dozen candles flickering behind a sumptuous wall of heavy curtains. Like the many eyes of an enormous spider, the rows of polished glass overlooked a tiny slit in the skyline where the earth touched the heavens, the gap exposed by a sudden burst of lighting. The air was heavy with the aroma of pending rainfall following a slow procession of agitated clouds, and then, after a moment of hesitation, the sky opened up.

Ignatius Barlow watched as ribbons of water lashed against the window, his pale eyes following the droplets on their rapid descent to the ground below. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a crooked thumb stroking the edge of a metal band looped around his wrist. It had been a long day and after the clock struck seven, he was certain it would be an even longer night. Turning away from the window and the network of watery veins splashing across it, Ignatius retreated to a leather chair behind a large wooden desk. He grasped the padded armrests and then dropped into the equally padded seat, his head rolling back onto his neck as he exhaled a small breath. 

The town of Blightford had always been a curiousity to the retired professor, its northern charm challenged only by the speculation of something peculiar transpiring within its borders. Ignatius had heard about the phenomena that took place — the varied accounts of disembodied voices, the unexplainable disappearances, the suffocating sensation of despair if someone wandered too far west and found themselves traipsing over the unnamed dead buried in St Columba’s Cemetery. As a young man — and an even younger boy — he walked a rather firm line of doubt and disbelief, and assumed the unusual experiences shared by his peers and colleagues were nothing more than stories to exchange over a lukewarm pint of beer, but the longer he taught within the hallowed walls of Yale University, Blightford lingered on the periphery like a spectre — like a bloody stain.

With parts of his memory compromised by age, Ignatius couldn’t recall the number of experiences he’d had with much clarity, but as with most things — his first and only dog, his first car, his first great love — he was of the mindset that he would never forget that first encounter. Even now, with his hands and feet warmed by a nearby fire, the recollection sent a stubborn chill down the length of his spine.

It was early spring and he had just dismissed his last class for the afternoon. The sky was an endless shade of blue and the earth had started to thaw, the rime and slush of a hard winter making way for little blades of grass. Ignatius slid his textbooks into his bookbag, turned off the lamp mounted on the edge of his desk, and then pulled the lecture room door shut behind him. From the moment he rolled out of bed, the young professor was overwhelmed by a vicious nausea; his stomach churned all morning and by noon, he had caught the wicked aroma of skatole and methanethiol a total of four times. Once outside, he sucked down a deep breath and held it, hoping the fresh oxygen would whittle away at the foul scent that lingered inside his nose for the better part of eight hours.

He navigated the condensed, brick walkways with ease and offered up a smile to all those who greeted him as he began his commute home. He hummed a soft tune as he rounded a corner and made his way past the northernmost residential hall. His stomach lurched unexpectedly and he slowed his steps, bracing for the violent discomfort of oncoming sickness, but when he coughed up nothing more than air and saliva, he swept his hands down the front of his suit and continued on. Adjusting the strap on his shoulder as he passed one dormitory after another, Ignatius concentrated on his breathing until the air went rancid.

Clapping his hand over his mouth and nose, Ignatius wandered off the stone path and into an alcove of tall bushes; tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he doubled over and prepared to empty his stomach of the peppermint tea he choked down hours before. The smell worked its way deep into his lungs and he retched, gagging on his tongue until his desperate heaving mutated into a scream.

A body materialized where his bag had slipped off his shoulder, the eyes limned over with cataracts and broken blood vessels. The corpse gazed upward, the remnants of its mouth stretched open in an empty shriek. Ignatius stared at the nightmare lying prone beneath him and gave a violent start when the body stirred, its eyes shifting from the sky above to his ashen face. He jumped backward and collapsed onto his elbows, the sudden burst of pain obliterating his panic for a split second before he scrambled to his feet. Ignatius fled through the bushes, arms and legs pumping with a ferocity he’d not felt since his sophomore year of high school. He ran until he tasted iron and his shirt was pressed slick to his body with perspiration.

He called in sick the following day and then sick again the next.

On the following Monday, Ignatius opted to take the lengthier route to his lecture room. Inhaling deeply, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, pausing when he noticed a small mass on the corner of his desk. He turned on the lights and gasped — the bag he abandoned in his haste had been returned. Ignatius edged forward and with a shaking, out-stretched hand, he peeled back the flap and reached inside to retrieve his books. He withdrew Tresmegistus’ ‘Corpus Hermeticism’ from the top of the stack and flinched when a small piece of paper slipped from between the pages. 

Ignatius bent to pick it up and felt his blood run cold. A pair of blue eyes set into a round and smiling face peered up at him, and on the bottom of the wallet-sized photograph, a small bit of jagged print: 

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.

Ignatius dropped the photograph and brought a trembling hand to his mouth. Amanda Alcorn had gone missing at the start of last term, and when winter semester began, her body had been recovered in a horrific state of advanced decay. 

Perhaps, Ignatius thought to himself. No way in hell. You were sick all day and your students probably decided to take the piss on you and play a prank. Indignant, Ignatius slammed the photo down, rounded the corner of his desk, and worked tirelessly to put Amanda out of his mind. 

He had never been the same since then; what started as a staunch aversion soon transformed into a strange obsession, and it was that morbid curiousity that allowed him to find company and common interest with those who spent the finite  hours of their lives in search of answers to the grim and unknown.

SPECIES SPOTLIGHT — MUNDANE SUMMARY — Consumed by a voracious appetite for the macabre, a motley group of individuals have come together in an effort to gather evidence of the strange and unusual phenomena taking place in their own backyard. Forever changed by the inexplicable horrors that have haunted their every waking moment, members of The Lazarus Compound work tirelessly to procure artifacts that support their belief that there is, indeed, a world that exists alongside the tangible realm. - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher] - - , ## [researcher]

[miercolaes]

ANON  SENT  A  TOTAL  OF  FIVE  IN-DEPTH  HEADCANON  QUESTIONS

what's  your  muse's  relationship  like  with  their  grandparents?

wednesday  loves  her  family,  even  the  extended  one.  she  grew  up  with  grandmama,  who  taught  her  how  to  poison  others  and  she  also used  to  teach  her  about  life  before  pugsley  and  her  ultimately  went  to  school.  although  they  seemed  to  have  somewhat  distanced  themselves  from  one  another,  whenever  wednesday’s  at  home  she  helps  her  grandmama  with  cursing  particular  individuals.  it  became  a  tradition.  then  there’s  granny  frump  whom  wednesday  poisons  or  curses  every  now  and  then  along  with  grandmama.  from  wednesday’s  perspective,  it  comes  out  of  a  place  of  love.  as  for  the  other  great  grandparents  that  are  affiliated  with  the  addamses  and  wednesday,  it’s  safe  to  say  wednesday  and  morticia  regularly  go  into  their  cemetery  to  conduct  séances  and  disturb  them  from  their  eternal  sleep.  wednesday  keeps  in  touch  with  everyone,  no  matter  their  status  (dead  or  alive).  she  loves  her  family  more  than  anything.  and  it’s  probably  the  reason  wednesday’s  so  oblivious  to  goody  addams  (belladonna  if  you  take  into  account  my  version  of  her)  —  meanwhile  morticia  warns  her  about  all  the  troubles  that  may  arise,  wednesday’s  looking  for  more  clues  to  help  and  get  help  from  her  ancestor.  one  of  her  infinite  times  great  grandmother.

does  your  muse  talk  to  themselves  when  they're  alone?  if  so,  how  frequently  and  what  about?  if  not,  how  else  do  they  fill  their  alone  time?

she  does  talk  to  herself  and  it’s  something  normal.  inner  dialogue,  inner  monologue,  inner  speech.  she  got  used  to  it  when  she  was  a  kid,  talking  to  either  pugsley  or  thing,  but  it  kept  going  into  adulthood.  as  it  turns  out,  it  helps  her  go  over  things  she  missed  in  the  first  place  and  it’s  therapeutic.  it  happens  moderately  i  think,  whenever  she  cooks  up  some  mischievous  plan.  this  also  happens  whenever  she’s  writing  for  her  novel.  if  your  muse  is  ever  around  her  when  she’s  writing,  they  would  catch  wednesday  asking  the  characters  questions  or  blatantly  judging  them  and  chakling.  it’s  her  way  of  understanding  things,  of  enjoying  them,  of  seeking  the  end  results.  however,  if  wednesday’s  not  talking  to  herself,  it’s  probably  because  (1)  she  isn’t  herself,  most  likely  possessed  or  (2)  she  actually  went  mad  and  is  talking  with  the  voices  inside  her  head.  the  latter  means  the  monologue  truly  is  within  her  mind.

what's  one  movie  your  muse  can  quote  front  to  back?

normal  people  would  think  it’d  be  something  like  psycho  or  silence  of  the  lamb,  but  no,  actually,  it  is  legally  blonde  and  10  things  i  hate  about  you.  especially  10  things  i  hate  about  you.  wednesday  resonates  a  lot  with  kat  and  she’s  disgusted  about  how  she  allowed  patrick  in.  truly  tormenting.  a  halloween  tradition  to  watch.  also  the  scary  movies  franchise,  but  the  first  one  will  be  her  all  time  favorite.

what  tv  show  character  does  your  muse  relate  to  the  most?

raven  from  teen  titans.  she  also  serves  as  an  inspiration  for  writing  wednesday,  not  accurately,  but  from  what  i  remember  watching  on  cartoon  network  in  the  early  2000s.

does  your  muse  have  any  funny  nicknames  their  friends/family  used  to  call  them  as  a  child?

little  viper,  little  storm  cloud,  little  death  trap,  little  scorpion,  little  black  cloud,  little  tormenta,  pig-tailed  protégé,  little  rain  cloud,  little  ghoul.  anything  with  little  in  it.  she’s  tiny.  a  tiny  sized  wanted  criminal  for  atrocious  crimes.

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 10.29

Holidays

Black Salsify Day (French Republic)

Bob Ross Day (Abeldane Empire)

Candies Day

Coronation Day (Cambodia)

C6HO Day (Kentucky)

Cumhuriyet Bayrami (North Cyprus, Turkey)

Cyrus the Great Day (Iran)

Feed the Birds Day (UK)

Festival of Global Climate Change

Fiestas Patrias begins (Honduras)

Halloween Eve Eve

Hermit Day

Hide From Everyone Day (a.k.a. Hermit Day)

International Internet Day

Laugh Suddenly For No Reason A Lot Today Day

Naming Day (Tanzania)

National Boner Day

National Book Day (Brazil)

National Cat Daddy Day

National Cat Day

National Hermit Day

National Martina Day

Oatmeal Day

PSC Awareness Day

Sea Slug Day

Separation of Church and State Day

Turkish Republic Day (Turkey)

World Online Networking Day

World Psoriasis Day

World Stroke Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Gnocchi Day (Argentina)

National Disgusting Little Pumpkin-Shaped Candies Day

National Oatmeal Day

Poperinge Beer & Hop Festival begins (Belgium) [Every 3 years, 3rd Friday, but postponed from 2021]

5th & Last Sunday in October

European Summer Times Ends (EU) [Last Sunday]

International Creole Day (Dominica, Saint Lucia) [Last Sunday]

Jounen Kwéyòl (Creole Day; Dominica, Saint Lucia) [Last Sunday]

National Grandparents Day (Australia) [Last Sunday]

National Student Baptism Day [Last Sunday]

Reformation Sunday [Last Sunday]

Visit a Cemetery Day [Last Sunday]

World Swim Hat Day [Last Sunday]

Independence Days

Turkey (from Ottoman Empire, 1923)

Westarctica (Declared; 2017) [unrecognized]

Feast Days

Abraham of Rostov (Christian; Saint)

Andrei Ryabushkin (Artology)

Chef (a.k.a. Theuderius; Christian; Saint)

Chiara Badano (Christian; Blessed)

Colman mac Duagh (Christian; Saint)

Douai Martyrs (Christian; Saint)

Gaetano Errico (Christian; Saint)

Ghatasthapana begins (Nepal)

Isis/Osiris Mysteries II (Pagan)

James Hannington (Anglicanism)

Kojagrat Purnima [15th Day of Dashain]

Lazarus Long Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Mary of Edessa (Christian; Saint)

Maximillian (Christian; Saint)

Narcissus of Jerusalem (Roman Catholic Church)

Nut Day (Pastafarian)

Robertson (Positivist; Saint)

Warren the Warthog (Muppetism)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Historically Unlucky Day [10 of 11]

Historically Bad Day (Stock Market Crash, Hurricane Sandy & 8 other tragedies) [10 of 11]

Lucky Day (Philippines) [58 of 71]

Taian (大安 Japan) [Lucky all day.]

Premieres

All I Want for Christmas Is You, by Mariah Carey (Song; 1994)

The Autobiography of Malcolm X, with Alex Haley (Biography; 1965)

Being John Malkovich (Film; 1999)

Blue Moon, 24th Jack Reacher book, by Lee Child (Novel; 2019)

Bullwinkle Busts a Brush or The Cleft Palette (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S5, Ep. 226; 1963)

BUtterfield 8, by John O'Hara (Roman à clef Novel; 1935)

Create Dangerously, by Albert Camus (manifesto; 1957)

Don Giovanni, by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Opera; 1787)

The Fleischmann’s Yeast Hour (Radio Series; 1929)

Get Nervous, by Pat Benatar (Album; 1982)

The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest (Film; 2010)

Hemispheres, by Rush (Album; 1978)

Hulu (Streaming Network; 2007)

The Huntley-Brinkley Report (TV News Show; 1956)

Jingle Bell Rock, recorded by Bobby Helm (Song; 1957)

Keeping Up Appearances (UK TV Series; 1990)

Last Night in Soho (Film; 2021)

Man of the Century (Film; 1999)

Mind Games, by John Lennon (Album; 1973)

My Generation, by The Who (Song; 1965)

The Nightmare Before Christmas (Animated Film; 1993)

The Portrait of a Lady, by Henry James (Novel; 1880)

Portrait of a Moose or Bullwinkle Gets the Brush (Rocky & Bullwinkle Cartoon, S5, Ep. 225; 1963)

Princess Mononoke (Anime Film; 1999)

Ray (Film; 2004)

Red Riding Hoodwinked (WB LT Cartoon; 1955)

Scooby-Doo, Where Are You Now! (WB Animated Film; 2021)

The Sentinel, 25th Jack Reacher book, by Lee Child (Novel; 2020)

Trip for Tat (WB MM Cartoon; 1960)

Welcome to the Pleasure Dome, by Frankie Goes to Hollywood (Album; 1984)

What’ll I Do?, recorded by Frank Sinatra (Song; 1947)

Wild Target (Film; 2010)

Today’s Name Days

Ermelina, Hermelindis, Melinda (Austria)

Časlav, Honorat, Ida, Narcis (Croatia)

Silvie (Czech Republic)

Narcissus (Denmark)

Alf, Alfred, Fred, Fredi (Estonia)

Alfred, Urmasimo (Finland)

Narcisse (France)

Ermelinda, Franco, Grete, Melinda (Germany)

Abramios, Melina (Greece)

Nárcisz (Hungary)

Ermelinda, Michela, Massimiliano (Italy)

Elva, Elvijs, Fortuna, Laimonis (Latvia)

Gelgaudas, Narcizas, Tolvydė, Violeta (Lithuania)

Noralf, Norunn (Norway)

Euzebia, Franciszek, Longin, Longina, Lubogost, Narcyz, Teodor, Wioletta (Poland)

Anastasia (Romania)

Zinaida (Russia)

Klára (Slovakia)

Narciso (Spain)

Viola (Sweden)

Garrison, Cyrano, Cyrena, Narcissa, Narcissus (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 302 of 2024; 63 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 7 of week 43 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Gort (Ivy) [Day 27 of 28]

Chinese: Month 9 (Ten-Xu), Day 15 (Geng-Shen)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 14 Heshvan 5784

Islamic: 14 Rabi II 1445

J Cal: 2 Mir; Twosday [2 of 30]

Julian: 16 October 2023

Moon: 99%: Waning Gibbous

Positivist: 22 Descartes (11th Month) [Robertson]

Runic Half Month: Hagal (Hailstone) [Day 3 of 15]

Season: Autumn (Day 36 of 89)

Zodiac: Scorpio (Day 6 of 29)

[horrorstorieswithlaxmi]

Haunted Cities: Discover the World's Most Spine-Chilling Destinations

Are you a thrill-seeker with a fascination for the supernatural? If so, you're in for a treat! We've compiled a list of the most haunted cities across the globe, where ancient folklore, ghost stories, and unanswered questions come together to create an eerie atmosphere. From the dark streets of Prague to the abandoned corridors of Poveglia Island, these spine-chilling destinations are sure to send shivers down your spine. So, grab your ghost-hunting gear and get ready for an unforgettable adventure!

1. Prague, Czech Republic: Where Ghosts Roam the Historic Streets

Prague, the capital city of the Czech Republic, is a treasure trove of haunted spots. As you wander through the historic streets, you might encounter the Headless Templar on Liliova Street or hear the strangled screams of demons in Houska Castle, famously known as the "Gates of Hell." These spine-chilling encounters will transport you to a world beyond the living.

2. Changi Beach, Singapore: Unveiling the Dark Secrets of Old Changi Hospital

Adjacent to the picturesque Changi Beach lies the hauntingly sinister Old Changi Hospital. During World War II, this place served as a prison for 50,000 Allied prisoners who reportedly endured unimaginable torture. Visitors claim to hear echoes of screams that resonate through the area, a chilling reminder of the past.

3. Sighisoara, Romania: Delve into the Birthplace of Dracula

For fans of Bram Stoker's legendary novel, Dracula, Sighisoara is a must-visit. This historic Transylvanian city is the birthplace of Vlad the Impaler, the brutal Prince of Wallachia who inspired the iconic vampire. Explore his childhood home, which now houses a tiny torture museum, or venture into the eerie, creaky stairwell of Holy Trinity Church after dark.

4. London, U.K.: Royal Spirits and Ghosts of Monks

London, a city steeped in history, harbors its fair share of paranormal activity. The Tower of London, infamous for its gruesome past, is haunted by the spirits of royalty. Meanwhile, Westminster Abbey is said to be frequented by ghostly monks. If you're brave enough, venture into Highgate Cemetery, but beware of the vampire lurking on Swain's Lane.

5. Edinburgh, U.K.: Unearth the Ghostly Secrets of Scotland's Capital

Edinburgh, the capital of Scotland, offers a dark and haunting experience. Edinburgh Castle, perched atop a hill, conceals ghost-ridden dungeons and a chilling past. For a spine-chilling encounter, dare to explore Real Mary King's Close, an underground network of streets where victims of the Black Plague were quarantined and left to die.

6. Baguio, Philippines: Unveiling the Dark History of Diplomat Hotel and Laperal White House

In the scenic city of Baguio, two haunted locations stand as testaments to a violent past. The abandoned Diplomat Hotel bears witness to the atrocities of World War II, with the spirits of war crimes victims lingering in its halls. Another chilling spot is the Laperal White House, known for its violent history of torture and murder.

7. New Orleans, Louisiana: A Tapestry of Ghostly Tales

New Orleans, with its rich and tragic history, is a hotbed of ghostly activity. Yellow fever epidemics and devastating fires have left their mark, fueling the city's ghost lore. In Jackson Square, located in the French Quarter, the sounds of the dead are said to reverberate. Don't miss the infamous LaLaurie Mansion, home to Madame LaLaurie, one of the world's most notorious serial killers.

8. Poveglia Island, Venice, Italy: The Epitome of Haunted Destinations

Venice, known for its masks and gondolas, also boasts Poveglia Island, often hailed as "the most haunted place in the world." This abandoned island was once home to an exiled colony of plague victims and later served as a sinister asylum. Ghost hunters flock to this eerie island in search of paranormal encounters.

9. Canberra, Australia: Haunted Halls and Mysterious Figures

The Old Parliament House in Canberra is not only a symbol of political history but also a hotspot for ghostly encounters. Visitors have reported sightings of former prime ministers wandering the halls, adding an eerie twist to this iconic landmark. Hotel Kurrajong, where Prime Minister Ben Chifley suffered a heart attack in 1951, is also rumored to be haunted.

10. San Antonio, Texas: Supernatural Tales in the Home of the Alamo

San Antonio, Texas, known as the home of the Alamo, has its fair share of supernatural stories. The grounds of San Fernando Cathedral come alive after sundown, with shadowy figures and spirits making their presence felt. Visitors often report sightings of hooded monks and men dressed in black, adding an extra layer of intrigue to this historic city.

Conclusion: Embark on a Haunting Adventure

If you're a horror enthusiast or simply seeking an adrenaline rush, these haunted cities offer the perfect vacation destinations. From encountering the Headless Templar in Prague to exploring the ghostly dungeons of Edinburgh Castle, each city has its own unique blend of history, folklore, and spine-chilling encounters. So, pack your bags, embrace the unknown, and embark on an unforgettable journey into the world's most haunted cities. Just remember, you might not be alone...

[noisynutcrusade]

The black wave over Milan: this is how 150 militants of Loyalty and Action remembered the fallen fascists at Campo X of the Major Cemetery

Yesterday afternoon about 150 militants of Loyalty and Action presented themselves at Camp X of the Major Cemetery in Milan to remember the fallen of the CSR who are buried there. Lined up in front of the tombs, none of them raised their arm in the Roman salute. Two photos of the moment appear on the social networks of Loyalty and Azione Milano, accompanied by the inscription: “Healthy youth has…