#also coming home with evidence of last night activities when you live with your younger sibling is a bit awkward maybe i need more freedom

[jaennie]

.

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x6 thoughts

I felt like the physical embodiment of a series of iconic reaction GIFs while watching this episode. I felt like Higgins gagging on air and right and wrong choices. As an invested, non-casual Ted Lasso viewer, I feel quite absorbed in the experience of every episode, but I’m not usually a LOUD non-casual Ted Lasso viewer. At one point last night, I shouted “This is the wackiest show ever made!” at @bristler, and that doesn’t even sound like something I would say. And by “wacky” I just meant “all the emotions are happening at once.”

This episode was absolutely great and I knew that every single Rebecca Welton feeling I have would intensify because of this episode and that is exactly what happened.

This is me bravely writing down my episode thoughts after only one viewing (just like last week) and a bad night of sleep! Copious spoilers and emotions ahead...

This show goes all in on hats! A lot of bad hats for giving bad relationship advice and making bad decisions! Feel like you’re gonna do something correctly? Just put on a bad hat, that’ll snap you right out of it. Just had a revelation that you are almost certainly in an abusive relationship? Your girlfriend is hiding in the parking lot with a terrible hat for you! (I love this show.)

Dark forest dark forest dark forest dark forest.

I truly, truly, truly do not mean this to sound judgmental of any other fan, but it’s taking everything in my power not to just type “dark forest” in the comments of every person who is outraged that LDN152 is not Ted.

Gonna get my initial thoughts on the Sam=LDN152 reveal out of the way. I honestly like this choice.

First, I like this choice because of who LDN152 isn’t. I think about how awful it would be if she’d matched with Rupert and realized she’d been manipulated by him and charmed by him all over again, and how, when she gets the same reveal the audience already has, she would end up retraumatized by having been charmed and taken in by Rupert all over again. I think about her matching with Nate (if he’d redownloaded the app) and the inadequacy of her assertiveness advice and how Nate is one of the only non-Rupert characters who’s used sexist language against her and how Nate’s insecurities would be like water trying to co-exist with the oil of Rebecca’s insecurities. Nate and Rebecca are fond of each other and seem to want to be in each other’s lives, but a romantic squishing together via dating app would set them both back lightyears. I think about her matching with Ted, a man currently on a parallel-to-Rebecca trek through a very painfully dark forest, a man swinging wildly between performative attempted wit and utter panic. A man she trusts with her professional and personal challenges. [Her challenging mother comes to town and Keeley and Ted are the people she wants with her at lunch.] Ted and Rebecca, with all their current limitations, and with all the ways the forest obscures the view, are trying to be there for each other in their real, non-romantic comedy versions of their lives, and the discomfort of matching on an app seems like the kind of thing that would make them rear back from each other instead of bringing them even closer together. It is not time. It is so profoundly not time that I would have been furious if the writers had continued the “maybe it’s Ted?” line of thought for another second longer than they did.

Second, I like this choice because of who Sam is. I know. He’s not an appropriate match for her. The power dynamics are all messed up and their ages are all wrong. But this does introduce a potentially interesting parallel between Rupert and his younger women and the scrutiny Rebecca would risk herself and Sam experiencing if she goes for it. Rebecca seems to have tried to put away her Rupert-related trauma, but the specter of Rupert is lurking, and I do see that being a good person making an ethically complicated decision with another good person is very different from being an abuser setting out to take advantage of multiple people...but there are parallels she might have to reckon with. Also, Sam is a kind person with a strong ethical center and a well-documented interest in Rebecca. He and Ted helped each other feel more at home in London during a time of deeply missing other homes, and Sam has internalized a lot of Ted’s ways of living in a way that might genuinely appeal to Rebecca even if she doesn’t fully realize why. The writers on this show don’t write messes for the sake of drama. They write messes because life is painful and complicated and also very funny. I’d be shocked if, however this Bantr thing plays out, it isn’t painful and complicated and also funny.

(I am already a little worried that whatever happens next is going to activate some very ironic fan reactions given this is a show whose thesis statement is about withholding judgment. This fear is based not on Ted Lasso-specific knowledge but on unfortunate patterns of fandom, but...you can fear the impact of racist, sexist, and ageist tropes on two beloved characters without embodying those tropes as a viewer. You can watch characters make decisions that could subject them to harmful scrutiny without performing that harm yourself.)

Ted Lasso is a fictional character who tweeted about the joy of eating out (you know...at the Crown and Anchor) the day before 2x6 launched and during 2x6 Rebecca invited him to eat out at the Crown and Anchor. (I love this show.) I am so, so, so fond of all the little lunch-y things in this episode. Ted can’t bring Henry his lunch because he’s “at work” aka living in London. Ted and Beard surprise each other with secret sandwiches on Fridays. Rebecca is overwhelmed by her mother’s visit (her mother’s performance of a harmful pattern) and wants Keeley and Ted there. The scene at the Crown and Anchor, as painful as all the divorce/separation feelings were, was also so homey and lovely in terms of these characters being friends, being at home in a place despite the very not-at-home feelings emanating from Deborah. The Bake-Off viewing! Ted being the designated driver (probably a good thing on this particular day)! Rebecca feeling discomfort but not shutting down! Also cute British pub feelings. Evidence that Rebecca has talked to her mom about Ted! About personal things about Ted!

Naaaaaaate. His bursts of confidence and insight. The pain and insecurity and anger almost literally bubbling under the surface.

I cannot say enough good things about Higgins. He’s grown so much, and his decision to be honest with Beard regarding his concerns about Jane was absolutely impeccably done. Many, many trusted people in Higgins’ life told him not to do it. They are all good people, and they were all wrong. Sometimes one human being’s honesty makes the difference for someone who is struggling, and that’s exactly what happened here. Beard truly heard Higgins. And of course he didn’t immediately break things off with Jane. But he heard Higgins, and when Jane showed up Beard’s face looked different than it ever has, and Higgins words are with him as he walks off into the night with Jane and that might save him. And Rebecca witnessed it.

And I’m so glad she witnessed Higgins’ choice in the midst of this very difficult experience of a) trying to find Ted because she knows he’s in pain and being unable to and b) watching her mother repeat a pattern that Rebecca herself was able to break. It taught me so much about Rebecca. The way she was punished (and described the experience using the language of punishment) for having an honest reaction to her mother’s decision to leave her father the first time. The way she was taught that love is conditional, that love and reconciliation are things you can purchase with gifts. The way her mother uses the language of self-help without internalizing what it would take to heal, and probably has little use for actual therapy. The way her mother drinks alcohol as a way to feel free.

I don’t even know how to think, much less write, about everything with Roy’s coaching and his image and how Ted feels about it and all the fatherhood things Jamie brings up and all the fatherhood things Ted is missing w/r/t Nate and everyone except for Rebecca taking at face value (or willfully deciding to take at face value) the idea that Ted’s panic attack is actually just him needing to go barf up a fish pie. Ted hugging his backpack in Sharon’s office. Rebecca trying to find him, and Sharon being the one who does. The words “I wanna make an appointment” being the words that conclude the episode at the exact midpoint of the planned-for show. Halfway through the middle season. The moment Ted realizes he’s never going to be okay if he doesn’t give therapy a try.

I also can’t say enough good things about the moment with the team and Sharon, the way she agrees to one drink, the way it’s clear that she adores them all. Sharon is exacting and professional without being cold and calculating, and everything she does in this episode is such a gorgeous model of assertiveness, patience, and moderation...three things Ted struggles with the most.

What a dark forest. What an excellent group of humans.

[foodieforthoughts]

Journey through time - Part 5

Summary: Your relationship with Syverson over the years.

Warnings: fluff and only fluff.

A/N1: Last part to this mini photo series. Thanks to @agniavateira who has provided me with so much inspiration. Also thank you to everyone who read and liked and commented. You guys make me so happy. (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)

A/N2: I'll be taking a small hiatus from posting fics for now. But I'll be back soon. ❤️

As much as Sy adored his daughter, secretly he had always wanted a son. Two years after Adeline was born, when he was back from his oversees tour for three weeks, Sy took it upon himself to get you round and plump with his kids again. He was overjoyed when you told him over a call that you were pregnant. Although it saddened you both that this time, Sy wasn't going to be around when you gave birth to your child. When you told him he was going to be a father to twin boys, Sy had hollered with glee, making a couple of his men come knocking at his door to see if he way okay. That was a very awkward call, where you were waving at his men while they congratulated you. You sent him a copy of your sonogram, along with a picture of you with Adeline in a care package. "Mini me's," He would say while looking at the picture, "And my princess with my queen." Your heart would flutter like the very first time he had kissed you; upsetting you at the distance and yet also filling you with love. Sy asked his parents to come live with you, help you with Adeline, as you got big and started experiencing difficulty in moving around. When you went into labour, his mother tried to get him on call, just like he had requested. But they were unable to connect to his phone, wondering if he was safe and sound or just away doing things that were expected of him to do as a captain. Your emotions were unbounded when you gave birth to your sons, worrying about Sy and going through the long process without him. The next day, Sy saw his sons for the first time over the video call, happy tears springing in his eyes as you cradled the two boys in your arms. "They have your eyes, Sy. Have you thought of names yet?" You had asked, having decided long time ago that since you had named your daughter, Sy would name his sons. "James and Noah." He had sniffed out, smiling at you lovingly.

Captain Syverson retired as Major Syverson after serving 20 years of active duty. Sy joined as a coach for Little League Baseball team, becoming a favorite amongst his players and their moms. Every morning you would kiss Sy goodbye as he walked out the front door, holding little Adeline's tiny hand in his to drive her to her school on his way to work. Your days were filled with less worrying about Sy's safety and more on providing a loving family for your kids. It helped that at the end of the day, your dining table was occupied with your children and your loving husband, sharing their day's events. Weekends were spent in parks with the whole Syverson clan out for picnics, you watching your husband running around with James and Noah, Adeline who was a spitting image of her father, perched on his strong shoulders. Somedays you couldn't believe your life turned out the way it did, mostly when you would walk inside the living room to find Sy sprawled on the sofa with Adeline curled on his side, James and Noah snoozing on his chest. You would wake him up, carefully peeling your daughter away from her father and take her to bed, while Sy got both boys in his arms with little to no effort and took them to their own room. At the end of the day, when parenthood and responsibilities left you both weary, you and Sy found solace in each other's arms while drifting off to a peaceful slumber.

It was the most devastating day in Sy's life when his teenage daughter told him she wanted to pursue modelling. Adeline was stubborn and opinionated, graced with Sy's beautiful features. He had stared at his daughter with wide eyes, cup of coffee stopping midway to his mouth. "You want me to be okay with grown men gawking at you?" He had gruffly replied, anger evident with his eyebrows knitting together and his lips forming a frown. You had learned over the years to not interfere with Sy's ways of parenting. James and Noah had awkwardly slid off their chairs, both of them avoiding what was to come next. The discussion had ended with father and daughter, arguing with each other, eventually Sy sending a crying Adeline away to her room. Neither of them had spoken to each other the rest of the day, Adeline refusing to eat dinner and Sy drinking too many glasses of whiskey. "I cannot believe she thinks modelling is a career choice." He had scowled later in the night, you both staring at the ceiling while lying in bed. "Didn't you once tell me you had hated your father for sending you off to military school? Do you want your daughter to hate you?" Sy had sighed, turning on his side to face you. "That's different. Adeline's our little girl, it's my duty to protect her." Understanding completely what Sy was feeling as a parent, you had too turned on your side and placed your hand on his scruffy cheek. "You taught her to be strong, independent. She will always be our little girl. Don't you trust her to take decisions for her life? And even if she fails to do what she desires, don't you want to be there for her when she would need her dad?"

The next day you had watched from your kitchen window as Sy and Adeline talked while sitting on the swings in the backyard, ending with long hugs and lots of tears.

While Adeline roamed around the country for fashion shows, Sy groomed his sons to join the army someday. It was not an acceptable behavior, but both of you had your favorites when it came to the twins. Noah, the stronger of the two was decidedly his father's favorite, adding to his delight when by the end of high school, he wanted to go to a military academy. James, the apple of your eye, on the other hand, wanted to become a doctor, much to Sy's dismay. But lessons were learned from the time with Adeline and for that reason only, Sy did not oppose. Noah was sent off to Virginia to a military academy, going on to join the air force as it was affiliated with his school; while James buried himself in studies, moving to Connecticut to attend medical school. Weekends that were spent with picnics in the park, now consisted of video conference calls with your three kids spread out over the country. "It's just going to be you and me in the end." Sy would say, shutting the computer off and looking at you pensively. Wounding your arms around the love of your life, you would rest your head on his shoulder and agree, "Till death do us part."

On your 30th wedding anniversary, Sy gave you an unexpected surprise. He had been missing from the house since morning, only to send a vague text with "Pack your bags and come out in ten minutes." When you walked outside on the front porch, you were left stunned to find Sy dressed in riding gear on a super bike. "I think we need to relive our days from the time we were dating. Come on, I've planned a road trip for us." And with that, Sy had driven all the way to San Antonio for the weekend. With a hotel room on the river, Sy pampered you with all his love and the best Tex-Mex food he could find for you. You spent the day shopping and exploring, while in the night he made love to you with unbridled passion. "My better half," he had called you, kissing your hands while cradling you to his chest. When you both came back home from your trip, you had another surprise waiting for you: Your three children all under the same roof again, holding up a sign board with "Happy anniversary, mom and dad."

Noah had successfully climbed the ranks in the airforce to become Lieutenant at an age younger than when Sy was one. But it was when James, inspired by his twin, decided to join the armed forces as a field doctor, you saw Sy's chest puff in pride. "Syverson men always join the military." He had told his friends over dinner one night, soaking up the praises for his children. Adeline joined a major modelling agency that speared her career forward. She roamed around the globe, sending her old folks trinkets from the new city she was in, and one day added a picture of her and her boyfriend in the mail. Sy turned into a protective father quickly, inviting her and her man to have dinner. "I like him." Your old man had chuckled, when he had scared Adeline's boyfriend, making him blabber incoherently with nervousness. You could only watch in a haze as one day Adeline's boyfriend showed up to your house unannounced, to ask Sy for his daughter's hand in marriage. "Listen boy, Adeline is precious and if you hurt her, you know there wouldn't be anything worse than us. You don't want to be on the bad side of the Syverson men, is that clear?" You had heard Sy warn, a shiver running down your spine listening to his commanding tone, even if the threat wasn't meant for you. A few weeks later, when Adeline was in Paris, she had called home only minutes after the proposal, screaming on the phone that she said "yes." The rest of the night, Sy had you looking at Adeline's baby pictures from old photo albums. "This little bundle would be getting married soon. Can you believe that?" He had laughed, wiping the tear at the corner of his eye and throwing his arm around your shoulders when you couldn't hold onto your own tears.

The day after Adeline, Sy's little girl, was married, he threw a brunch for the newly weds and their families. James and Noah, back from their deployment in time for their sister's wedding, had introduced their own girlfriends to both of you before the ceremony. You knew Sy would never admit it, macho behavior of his never fading, but you could see his eyes glisten watching his family grow. He had tried to keep a straight face throughout the ceremony too, but he had let go of his tears when Adeline had laid her head on his shoulder during their father-daughter dance. Halfway through brunch, Sy pulled you away from the crowd and took you towards the orchard outside the country club. He held your hand while taking you to stand under the shade of a massive tree. "It's like I'm living in a dream." You admitted, looking out at the sprawling orchard, thinking about how you were a mother-in-law to someone. Sy pulled you close to him by your waist, encircling his arms around you. Gray hair on his temples and his face beginning to be marked with wrinkles and yet for you, Sy looked like he had never aged. "I know I don't tell this to you very often, but darlin' running into you, falling in love with you, building a life with you, is the best thing that could have happened to me." He kissed the top of your head, taking your face in his hands before planting a soft kiss on your lips. "I love you and thank you for everything, Sy." You whispered as the birds chirped on the branches above, a whistling breeze blew by carrying the sweet fragrance of fruits in the orchard and you stared at the brilliant blue orbs of the man who had owned your heart and soul since many years ago.

The End.

[tu-mint]

Amendment

A/N: Sooo I’ve been meaning to share my Mortal Kombat stuff on here for a while, I wanted to wait for the movie to come out first 😅🤣

TW: mentions of torture & sexual assault

In which Shang Tsung and the Black Dragon are officially put down and Earthrealm's defenders are able to return home, but Raelynn is stuck in her thoughts, but one of the young Kombatants is able to help her reconsider the negativity in her mind. (Based around MK11 & Aftermath but w/ a twist?)

Raelynn knew this all too well. With her entity as a half god, a change in time would do nothing to erase the horrifying memory in her mind back in the Black Dragon's dungeon -- at least, that's what it felt like. Hours upon hours of nothing but brutal beatings, each kick, punch, and swing as harsh as the last. While it wouldn't have hurt too much being that she was stronger than the average mortal, the bindings fused with the dark power of Shinnok's amulet extracted much of her godlike strength and left her as a helpless bait to be shredded and mauled at by the jaws of vicious and starved predators, desperate to take a leap at the prey before them. It still seemed unbelievable how she was alive even after all the bruises and cuts and blood...but she managed. After all, those shallow wounds were all but nothing comapred to--

The demigoddess shivered involuntarily and inhaled sharply. Thankfully, everyone aboard was too immersed in their own activities to notice her sudden actions, but she knew she wasn't stable enough with where her thoughts were treading. Her eyes searched for her son who was currently speaking in a group of the younger Kombatants. A yellow strip of cloth with an intricate design she couldn't make out was fastened around his bicep, and she wondered where it had come from until her eyes peered at the young male he stood beside. Takeda, son to Kenshi and pupil under Grandmaster Hasashi, was missing the usual yellow band that adorned his head as a reminder to those that he was a member of the Shirai Ryu clan. His short onyx locks blew freely but he didn't seem to mind all that much, instead grinning down at Haru who wore the cloth proudly. Cassie and Jacqui mirrored the telepath's reaction, the blonde pulling out her phone and snapping a picture. The sight warmed her heart and she was thankful the young fighters didn't look upon her son with irritation, but rather genuine care and happiness. When Haru had told her of the adventures and stories spent with them, a pang of guilt struck her for the early misjudgement on her part, believing they were just frivolous juveniles that only gained their high positions due to the status of their families.

Wishing not to allow her brooding to draw unwanted attention, Raelynn slipped silently to the back of the ship. Her efforts did not go unnoticed by Raiden who stood near the hull of the ship, but he decided against speaking with her in that moment.

He recalled the time he had found her, bound like a dog and covered in welts and lacerations big and small. She was curled into a ball, shaking and burying her face into her knees. It was then Raiden became aware of the state of her clothing, torn and barely covering her form as if someone intentionally ripped and pulled at it to expose more of her. Immediately he slipped out of his own robe and pulled it across her trembling form, respectfully averting his eyes. As he helped Raelynn stand to her feet, his eyes widened as countless more bruises and marks made themselves visible, tiny splotches of smooth brown skin barely surviving. These people had clearly put her through a very long, thorough beating, and it was evident that they were in no means hoping to show mercy. No, they wanted her dead. Raiden had teleported into the SF ship and rushed her to the infirmary room. People cleared the way immediately and knew better than to question his sudden appearance as he brushed past them while carrying the barely conscious woman to a bed near the back. He knew the Kombatants would be able to handle themselves well, so he stayed and began the healing process.

It was during this time he realized that Raelynn was no mere mortal, but a half god created by the hands of Cetrion. While it was difficult at first for him to fully trust her said intentions due to her creator's betrayal upon the Elder Gods, he had seen her heart's purity during the mission. The thunder god knew that she was making the best of efforts to redeem herself of past mistakes, and Liu Kang recognized this as well. A twinge of concern fell upon him just then as he knew that she still had much she needed to recover from. Whether she would eventually open up to him or not didn't matter, he would be patient and assist her as best as he could.

Raelynn took a seat upon the thick wooden rail and swung her legs over to face the bloody depths of Netherrealm's ocean. She wasn't afraid of falling nor coming across any odd sea creatures knowing that she had flying abilities, but of course she also wasn't dumb enough to try and test her strength or reflexes. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she looked on at the overlapping waves, allowing her mind to space out and roam. Her fingers tapped on the rail in a rhythmic pattern, and she suddenly was reminded of something. Her hands came together and moved in a circular motion, stretching further until the form of her solar powers had become a guitar. She clutched the neck and hugged the body of the instrument under her other arm smiling to herself.

Upon visiting the islands of the Pacific in the past, she had learned about the aspect of music through vocals and tools that produced a pleasant audio. The demigoddess found that these brought her a sense of peace and tranquility, and immediately she wanted to learn the ways of this fascinating revelation. What came as an interest to her in the beauty of music was the endless techniques for a new sound, new sensations, new reactions, and day by day, there was always the creation or discovery of another. She allowed her fingers to delicately pluck and strum a mix of chords, a tingle settling in her chest at the euphoria beginning to wash over her. Her hands moved on their own accord, finding a steady tempo and following a pattern with an occasional switch. The nerves that built up in the pit of her stomach had eventually disappeared into wisps of nothingness. Her eyes began to slowly close and she hummed quietly wanting no attention to be drawn to the back of the ship. It seemed to work decently, until-

"Wow, you're part god and a singer? Gotta say I'm definitely jealous."

The woman’s fingers froze in place already in position to strum a new chord. She craned her neck just enough to glance over her shoulder at the intruder, already knowing it who it was. “My life is nothing to be envious of, Specialist Briggs.”

Raelynn heard footsteps tread closer and tapped on her guitar. The younger woman climbed onto the rail and threw a leg over the other. They sat for a moment in silence, staring off at the deep scarlet waters swishing and rolling about. “I owe you an apology, Specialist.”

Jacqui’s eyebrow quirked and her eyes fell upon the half god. Raelynn took her silence as a sign to continue. “I apologize for my behavior towards you and your friends throughout most of the mission. Even after I had caused harm upon your lives and nearly killed your fiancé, you still ensured trust in me. That I could never understand, but-"

"It wasn't easy." The half goddess shifted her attention to the soldier. Her face was impassive as she watched the waves. Raelynn couldn't tell if her expression was a good or bad thing, but she decided against trying to get her hopes up. A great deal (if not all) of her acts under Cetrion were cruel and groundless, and she held no anguish up until the time she had to come face to face with the truth of her doings. It tore her day and night, and meeting Hajoon had her convinced that she would be able to leave the life of corruption far behind and start fresh. Of course, the facts couldn't be hidden forever, and the half goddess found herself back in the deep hole of falsehood, surrounded with nothing but fabricated offers to a better life. She scoffed mentally. That opportunity was officially closed off to her. It seemed as though disaster was always a few steps away, eager to ruin her chances at something sound, and risking it a third time was nowhere near appealing.

"There were many instances where I questioned why the Chosen One defended you to such an extent, especially after it was SF that provided for your recovery." Jacqui's voice had brought her out of her thoughts. "Trust me, I was beyond ready to blast a hole or two through your head a hell lot of times." She paused. "But spending time with Haru and hearing your whole deal...I understood you." Raelynn's brows raised slightly, not expecting such a considerate response.

"I couldn't imagine a life finding out that the one who was supposed to be my caretaker, my protector, my safe haven, was actually the one who robbed me of all that. My mother..." Her words trailed off and she peered down into her lap. She tightened her jaw and bit her lip to keep from releasing the tears awaiting just behind her eyes. Raelynn almost reached her hand out in an effort of comfort but stopped, not wanting to ruin the intimacy in the moment. Jacqui lifted her head and continued. "Man, it would kill me if she'd ever done something like that...growing up believing that everything was all good and sweet, and everyone just hated her for doing what I thought was the right thing, thinkin' it was my own folks who were the crooks trynna steal me away and take my power from me..." She scoffed. "Seein' my dad as a revenant then manipulated by Kronika was betrayal enough, and it hurt like hell. Point is, I realized that you truly had no malice in you. You were just takin' orders and tryin' to keep your mother—uh, Cetrion, happy."

And it was true. Raelynn trusted completely in the virtue goddess as any child would their guardian. She worked vigorously in carrying out the Elder Goddess' wishes, longing to eventually gain any sort of praise or affection, but it was rare that those occurrences came to past. Most of her upbringing revolved around unanswered questions and the constant urge to do better, trying at all costs to win approval. But like a fool, she allowed her heart to get the best of her, put her through the worst of hells just to seek out a foolish desire that would never be anything close to genuine. That's what messed her up in the first place, and she couldn't—no, would not dare to do something as stupid as that again. It was only her and Haru. Nobody else.

"I am...appreciative of your understanding, Ms. Briggs," Raelynn spoke after a long moment of silence. "You and your comrades are owed a huge debt on my behalf."

Jacqui chuckled and shook her head, then turned to look at the demigoddess. "You're damn right we are!" The two women shared a laugh on the rail. "Actually, I believe there is a way to pay back this debt."

"How so?"

"Well, Takeda and I's wedding was put on pause due to this whole mission, and it cost a lot to find decent live music. Cassie offered, but we're trying to have a simple proper wedding, not a drunk karaoke session. And you have the voice of an angel—well, a god in your case. If you can strum a few chords and sing a few notes for a few hours, I'll consider you free of deficit."

Raelynn cocked her head and raised a brow. "That's...that's all?" She figured the woman would request of something more extravagant, like a prolonged lifespan or giving her supernatural abilities. Jaqui nodded and crossed her arms awaiting an answer.

"I...very well, Ms. Br-"

"Jacqui. That formality stuff is weird if it's not comin' from General Blade." The demigoddess was taken by surprise again. She gave a single nod and looked on at the waves which now fell into to a more mellow and calm pattern.

Perhaps it wasn't just Haru and her against the world. Every person aboard had their story, their differences, their fall outs, but they were able to cast it all aside at an effort for peace upon a world that did almost nothing for them in return. Some aspects of the Earthrealm were odd, she thought. It was going to take a lot of time to get used to these people, but maybe, just maybe...

There was a sense of hope.

[tipsycad147]

The eight Sabbats: Witch's holidays

by Michelle Gruben

Modern Pagans celebrate eight major holidays throughout the year, known as Sabbats. They are based on pre-Christian customs related to the movement of the sun. Most are related to the Celtic agricultural festivals that have given them their names.

Of course, now we know that the sun doesn’t actually move around the earth. And lots of Pagans live far away from the places where our food is grown. But the Sabbats are still a meaningful way to connect with the cycles of the seasons and of human life.

The Pagan Sabbats include the four astronomical holidays (the equinoxes and solstices) and four traditional holidays in between. Together, these eight festivals are known as the Wheel of the Year. They are observed in Wicca and Wicca-influenced forms of neo-Paganism.

Learn about the eight Witch’s holidays and some popular customs for each one:

Samhain

Probably the best-known of the Sabbats, Samhain is celebrated on October 31st. It coincides with Halloween or All Hallows Eve. Halloween is a time when even non-magickal people indulge in spooky activities and ancient superstitions. It's also the time when mainstream culture pays the most attention to the activities of Witches and Pagans.

The word Samhain comes from the Irish Gaelic word for “summer’s end.” The days have become shorter, and the darker half of the solar year is upon us. At this time, farmers would use up the remaining stores of perishable fruits and vegetables, preserving other foods to sustain them through the cold and dark season. They would also slaughter any livestock that they did not plan to feed through the winter. This is why we sometimes refer to Samhain as the Third Harvest, or Blood Harvest.

At Samhain, many people believe the boundary between the words is at its thinnest. Samhain is also known as Ancestor’s Night or the Feast of the Dead. For most Witches, Samhain is the best time to commune with the beloved dead (ancestors and honored spirits). Some also believe that lonely or angry spirits may wander the Earth on Samhain night, looking for humans to annoy.

How Pagans celebrate: For Pagans, Samhain is the beginning of the new year. It is a holiday of reflection and celebration. At Samhain, we cast off the old year’s attachments and turn our attention to the coming scarcity of winter. We feast on the last of summer’s bounty. We contemplate what is worth saving and nurturing during the dark of winter. We try to make friends with Death.

Pagans celebrate Samhain in many of the same ways muggles do: Scarfing down sweets, carving jack-o-lanterns, dressing up in costumes. We decorate with skulls and spiders and go to haunted houses. All of these Halloween traditions are too fun to miss out on—and besides, most of them have their roots in old Pagan beliefs, anyway.

If you’re invited to a Samhain ritual, you may see an ancestor altar. This is a shared altar where participants are invited to pile on their mementos and offerings for the dead. The presiding priest or priestess may invoke a deity who rules over transitions or the migration of souls—Morrighan, Hecate, or Hermes. You may participate in a meditation where you travel into the depths of the underworld, or look departed friends in the eye once more. People will speak the names of loved ones who died during the previous year, or long ago.

Feasting is a component of many Samhain rituals. When we eat sweets, we are savoring the sweetness of life and its impermanence. When we eat meat, we remember that all flesh must die and become nourishment for some creature or another.

We also use food as an offering to the dead—to communicate fond memories, to pay our respects—and perhaps, to appease hungry ghosts. Some Pagans set an extra plate at the Samhain table for spirit visitors. Another contemporary Pagan custom is the “dumb supper”—a silent meal where we invite our ancestors (both known and unknown) to come and dine with us.

Yule

Yule is the Pagan name for the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year. In the Northern Hemisphere, it falls on or around December 21.

After the winter solstice, the darkest part of the year is over and the days begin increasing in length. This solar holiday is related historically to Christmas—Pagans delight in pointing out that Christians co-opted the date around the third century CE.

In the overarching neo-Pagan mythos, Yule is the birthday of the divine infant who is conceived in the spring. The dark of midwinter is the period of the Goddess’s confinement and labor as she prepares to welcome the solar child. On the longest night, the Sun God is born to the praise and gratitude of all Earth’s creatures.

How Pagans celebrate:

Yuletide is a time for passive, personal magick—for short days of work and long nights of dreaming. We set intentions and incubate our plans. It is a time of preparing mentally and spiritually for the light half of the year. Some Pagans keep a midwinter vigil, awaiting the rebirth of the sun at dawn.

It’s not often that you find large group rituals for Yule—probably because lots of Pagans are busy traveling and visiting with non-Pagan family! Instead, Yule rituals tend toward the home-y and conventional.

We decorate with evergreens and holly. We exchange gifts with friends and family. On Midwinter Eve, we light candles to herald the return of the sun. (The ambitious among us may set a Yule log blazing.) We eat traditional, calorie-rich holiday foods: Tamales, eggnog, rum cake, ham, and chocolate. We give thanks for the life-giving energy of our planet’s sun.  

Imbolc

Imbolc is a festival of purification and the early signs of spring. Imbolc is celebrated on Feb 1. (Not yet spring in most of the world, to be sure—but sometimes spring-like in Britain due to the warming influence of the Gulf Stream.) It is the first of the three Pagan fertility festivals, followed by Ostara and Beltane.

In Old Irish, Imbolc means “in the belly” and was associated with the onset of the lambing season. It was an obscure Irish folk festival until the 20th century, when neo-Pagans revived it as part of the Wheel of the Year. It coincides with the Christian festival of Candlemas and with that old farmer’s oracle, Groundhog’s Day, both observed on Feb. 2.

For our ancestors, the significance of Imbolc would have been the beginning of the ground thaw. It is the time to prepare for the planting season—to survey the land, take an inventory of tools, and make any repairs or modifications that will be needed. For the Witch, it also a time of preparation. We clean and bless our altars, and make sure that the tools of our practice are attuned to their intended use.

Mythically, Imbolc celebrates the awakening of the Goddess after giving birth to the young God at Yule. In the Earth, we observe the first stirrings of life after the frozen winter. (If you don’t know what a frozen winter looks like, ask your grandmother.)  Imbolc brings the energy of creativity and imagination. Projects that were put on hold during the holiday season start to creak into motion again. Our midwinter dreams resolve themselves into their first visible shapes.

How Pagans celebrate:

Imbolc is especially sacred to Brigid—Celtic Goddess of hearthfire, healing, the bardic arts, and smithwork. Many Imbolc rituals honor Brigid with candlelight, poems, and woven ornaments known as Brigid’s crosses. The first light of spring is evident by now, and it is an auspicious time of year for rites of cleansing, healing, and blessing.

Imbolc is a time for spiritual dedication and re-dedication. Some covens—especially women’s covens—initiate new members at Imbolc. For old Pagans, it is also a time to examine and refresh our practice. If we have become lax, Imbolc is an opportunity to purify our intentions and reconnect with spiritual guides. We light candles, open windows, and wash the floors to cast out the last gloom of winter. Some also use Imbolc for divination for the year’s harvest.

Imbolc is not really a feasting holiday, as the season of grains and fruits is months away. The first food of the year is dairy. Butter, milk, and cream are traditional foods for the Imbolc table.

Ostara

Ostara is the spring equinox, which falls on or about March 21 in the Northern Hemisphere. It is opposite the autumn equinox (which Pagans refer to as Mabon). But any desktop calendar can tell you that. Ostara is the Pagan cousin of the Easter holiday, a modern revival of one or more ancient spring celebrations.

Ostara is the second of three fertility festivals, a time when the blessings of spring become more visible in the natural world. Flowers bloom, the birds and the bees do their thing, and grocery aisles fill up with pastel-colored treats. Ancient fertility symbols like eggs and bunnies are everywhere. (Yep, Ostara is the Sabbat with the rabbit!)

Astronomically speaking, Ostara is a midpoint of the year, and day and night are equal at this time. The Sun God (who has been growing and gathering strength since Yule) is an adolescent. The Great Goddess, who has been getting progressively younger since December 21, is in her maiden form. These two lusty youths are now the same age, and will soon conceive the child who will be born at Yule.

How Pagans celebrate:

The original meaning of Ostara as a fertility festival is not lost on modern Pagans. Ostara provides a perfect opportunity to work magick for love, prosperity, and gains of any kind. We harness the energy of the lengthening days to fuel our desires and bring projects to fruition. We honor the gifts of the earth Goddess, who is presently blessing the land with beauty and nourishment.

Pagans also use Ostara as a time to reflect on the principle of balance. Everyone has goals and responsibilities—work, family, art, spirituality—that compete for our time and attention. At Ostara, we take a moment to notice things that may have shifted out of balance. We reset our priorities as the austerity of winter gives way to the exuberance of spring.

Beltane

Beltane is the ancient name for the May Day rite, held on May 1. Originally a fire festival, it was widely celebrated in pre-Christian Ireland and Scotland. The name comes from the god Bel (“the bright one”) and means “Bel’s fire.” It is the second of two principle festivals on the Celtic Pagan calendar, the other one being Samhain. Samhain and Beltane are the two poles of the magickal year, when the gates to Faery and the spirit world are most open to travelers. ­­­

In traditional Wicca, Beltane is a sexual festival, the last of the three fertility festivals. It is the time when the Maiden Goddess takes a lover in the form of the young God. Wiccans enact this drama through the ritual marriage (Great Rite) of a High Priestess and High Priest, whose union will bless the land.

How Pagans celebrate:

Theoretically, Beltane is an occasion of unbridled sensuality and revelry. However, sexual rites are rare in modern covens. If invited to a Beltane ritual, you’re far more likely to dance around a maypole or witness a symbolic Great Rite (with a chalice and athame) than encounter an orgy.

For the social Pagan, Beltane season abounds with bonfires, festivals, concerts, and campouts. Solitary Pagans might celebrate by making an altar to the young God and Goddess or connecting with a lover. Flowers, honey, sweets and wine on the altar echo the sweetness of the occasion. Beltane is also a time for illusion, seduction, and Faery tricks. By the light of the Beltane fire, the real can become unreal (and vice versa).

Since Beltane celebrates the union of the God and Goddess, it is a popular time for proposals, handfastings, and renewing of vows. Magickally, the combined masculine and feminine energies lend a powerful alchemical surge to almost any type of spellwork.

Litha

Litha is the summer solstice, which in the Northern Hemisphere falls on or about June 21. Linguists disagree about the origin of the Sabbat’s name, but summer festivals were common across pre-Christian Europe. People lit bonfires to keep the sun’s light alive for as long as possible. Solstice revels were supposed to bless the crops in the fields and drive away evil spirits.

Litha is the day when the Sun God is at the peak of his power. It is an auspicious day, ruled by the Sun and the element of Fire. After Litha, the nights will begin to grow longer and the Sun will move further away each day. With the fall harvest imminent, Litha is an opportunity for anticipating the (actual or symbolic) crop. Medieval people believed that Midsummer Night was blessed, and that whatever a person dreamed on this night would come true.

How Pagans celebrate:

Outdoor rituals are common at Litha, as Pagans take advantage of the long hours of daylight. It is a joyful Sabbat. Bonfires and summer games brighten the space between earth and sky. We decorate our altars with solar symbols, and honor the God in his aspect as Father.

Litha is an appropriate time for all magick ruled by the Sun. This includes spells of cleansing, protection, charisma, and truth.

Lammas

Lammas is the first harvest festival on the Pagan calendar, observed on or about August 1. It is related to an old agricultural holiday celebrating the reaping of grain. Lammas probably comes from the Old English words for “loaf mass.” Loaves of freshly baked bread would have been prepared from the first grain and blessed in churches around the countryside. Lammas is also called Lughnasadh, after the Celtic sun God, Lugh.

As the summer stretches on and the days grow shorter, the sun God symbolically loses some of his strength. He is not yet dead, but is aware that the dark season will soon approach. The god of summer “dies” in the fields to nourish the people, and prepares for rebirth at Yule.

How Pagans celebrate:

Lammas is a time to welcome the harvest. We give thanks that the year’s work is proceeding as planned, and that we will soon enjoy the fruits of our labor. Grain is the traditional food for the Lammas table, in the form of wheat, barley, beers and ales.

Celtic Pagans celebrate Lammas/Lughnasadh as the feast of Lugh, an agricultural god—but also a patron of poets, musicians, and craftspeople. At Lammas, we may show off the skills we have acquired and trade them for things we will need. It is a traditional time of year for craft fairs and local markets.

Mabon

Mabon is the autumn equinox (or as us Texans call, it “fawwwl”). In the Northern Hemisphere, it falls around Sept 21. Mabon is the pivot point of the solar year when the days begin to shorten and winter is on its way. (The name of the festival is modern and dates from the 1960s or early 1970s.)

Mabon may also be called the Second Harvest, because it is the time when autumn fruits and nuts reach their maturity. It is a time to contemplate what we have worked for in the previous year and what rewards we are ready to reap. We give thanks to the waning sunlight and prepare to store our wealth away for the scarce season. We shift from active to contemplative magick. Mabon season is a fine time for workings of prosperity, gratitude, security, and balance.

How Pagans celebrate:

Mabon is a time for celebration after the hard work of the harvest. Though it is sad to watch the beauty of the growing season fade away, we revel in the mild weather and rest that autumn brings.

Mabon foods are comfort foods, those that evoke fond memories and connect us through sharing. We bake and brew, pickle and can. Offerings of wine, cider, fruits, and boughs may adorn the Mabon table—along with that most Pagan of centerpieces, the Cornucopia.

On the Pagan religious calendar, Mabon represents the turning point to the dark half of the year. We shift our attention from the youthful merriment of the summer Sabbats. At Mabon, we honor the Crone and Sage deities, the cycles of aging and death, and the spirit world.

Mabon is a popular time for large outdoor rituals—in part because the weather is good and it doesn’t conflict with any major mainstream holidays. We gather together to feast and express gratitude for our lovely tilted planet. Many cities host a public Mabon ritual as part of their annual Pagan Pride Day gatherings. Solitary Pagans might celebrate Mabon with offerings at a home altar, or a contemplative walk in the woods.

https://www.groveandgrotto.com/blogs/articles/the-eight-sabbats-witchs-holidays

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[sukigirl17]

The Bump SukixSokka Oneshot

Word Count: 3,958

The first thing he saw in the morning was his wife examining herself in the full body mirror in their bedroom. And by the expression on her face, she didn't like what she saw. She was only 8 1/2 months along, but to the both of them, it felt like an eternity.

 He always thought of pregnancy as a bright, happy experience, for there would soon be a little person pitter-pattering across the floor of their home. Everyone in the South Pole rejoiced at the news of one of their members starting a family. They even had a feast in the baby’s honor, but things seemed a lot more realistic now.

 Sokka had never truly seen what exactly the woman of his tribe had to go through during their pregnancy, but now he was humbled to be experiencing it firsthand. It was completely different from what he's imagined it'd be like.  

In the middle of her first trimester, she had noticed during her chi blocking lessons with The Cranefish Police Force, she was having a hard time concentrating. It was getting more and more difficult for her to work or practice with her warriors, and when she asked their local healer, she said it was partially the preoccupation of the baby that caused the forgetfulness and inability to concentrate. So, Suki allowed for Ty Lee to come in and take over her instruction for a few months until she felt better.

 It hurt her pride to have to step down, but she knew it was for the best of her pupils and of the baby if she started acting more well, pregnant. She couldn’t maintain the same level of physical activity forever.

 ..

 The kicks were probably Sokka's favorite part. He would gently place his hands on his wife's belly any chance he got. Sometimes, he would even lay his head down on the top of her stomach and listen to the baby moving inside of her, eventually falling asleep to the sounds and the feeling of her stroking his hair as his eyelids became heavy and eventually closed.

 "I love you," He faintly recalled her whispering, thinking she was talking about him. Sokka would smile softly, half asleep.

 She giggled. "And you," She cooed, placing a kiss on his forehead, letting him know who she was really talking to before.

 Another one of the lighter aspects of the pregnancy is every woman is said to possess that pregnancy glow, but Suki shined. Her skin would light up a room immediately and she looked breathtakingly radiant to him. He never once forgot to tell her how beautiful she looked, even if she didn't believe him. It was moments like those that Sokka wished everything about the pregnancy could be that easy and stress-free.

 But of course, the universe would never let something go that well for him.

 ..

 The next obstacle they faced were her migraines. They pained Suki so much that some days she couldn't even get out of bed. Even the slightest bit of noise would send her into a world of misery. They didn't even bother to call the healer anymore, because they knew what she would say. It was said every visit Suki had with her.

 “A soon-to-be-mother should reduce as much stress as possible,” They were told yet again. “Because growing another person is already stressful enough! Let yourself relax, dear. It’s only going to get rougher from here. You don’t just have yourself to think about anymore when you’re running around with heavy armor and sharp swords.”

 Both Suki and Sokka reluctantly agreed that Suki needed to start taking it easier on her body the further along she got in the pregnancy. So after much deliberation, they came to the agreement that it wasn’t a good idea for her to return to her position as Zuko’s security until after the baby came.

 They also decided to take some time away from the gAang and all the excitement that followed them and went to spend some time on Kyoshi Island until the delivery. The conflict between benders and nonbenders didn’t seem to be simmering down anytime soon, and they thought it would be safer for them to wait out the pregnancy somewhere more stable.

 It was where Suki was going to feel the most relaxed, just as the healer said she should prioritize, and it would only be for a few months, they figured.

 Suki loved spending time with more of her warriors, Sokka fished and relaxed in Suki’s house most of their days. It felt like a mini vacation at first, with no pressures or commitments hanging over their heads. It was the first time in a long time they could just relax.

 Suki tried.

 She really did, but she couldn’t resist spending time in the dojo with her warriors. It just started out as visits and she’d observe their training.

 But their questions resulted in her suggestions.

 Verbal corrections turned into physical adjustments.

 Explanations became demonstrations.

 And before she could even catch herself, Sokka caught her first.

 She spotted her running drills with the other girls one day when he was walking by the dojo, and as Sokka does, he panicked immediately at the sight of his wife doing something he thought to be reckless.

 “What are you doing? Did you not listen to literally anything our old healer said?!” He yelled later that night in their home.

 “Sokka, I’m fine! I was just going through a few exercises with them.” She rolled her eyes as he lost his temper. “I was practically stretching.”

 “Suki, the whole point of why we came here was for you to take it easy! And to just relax! Training for war is not relaxing, it’s training for war!”

 “Stop being so dramatic!”

 “I’m not being dramatic!”

 “Then stop being so overprotective!” Suki glared at him as she started to raise her voice to match his. His hysteria was starting to get on her nerves, and she felt a headache coming on, so she shook her head as a sigh fell from her lips. “Sokka, I’m not going to do anything dangerous. You can relax your way, and this just happens to be mine. Just trust me and let me have this. It’s really important to me.”

 Sokka stared at her for a long moment before letting out a sigh of his own. He made his war across the room and pulled her into his arms for a tight hug. “What’s important to you is important to me,” He mumbled into her hair. “Just be careful.”

 And she was.

 But nothing could’ve prepared either of them for the next joy of pregnancy.

 The tight joints started. The weight of the baby made her feel unbalanced and she would have sudden pains piercing through her body at unexpected times. It was a common occurrence and something the couple hadn't given much thought to until one day during her training, Suki was teaching some of her younger warriors a new, simple routine. The girls were having fun and she decided to keep their momentum going and kicked the intensity up a notch.

 Literally.

 She went to raise her leg in order to perform a kick to finish off the drill. But when she let out a pained cry and hit the ground clutching her stomach, the young girls stood in shock for a moment, watching their beloved leader fall before rushing to her side and calling for help.

 The memory is a bit of blur for Suki. She thinks she remembers muttering how proud she was of her girls and how they were handling this so maturely in between grunts and gasps of pain the escaped her lips. Her vision started blurring because the pain became so intense, she almost blacked out by the time the healer had gotten to the dojo. Somehow the girls had managed to get her into a wheelchair, because the next thing she remembered was being pushed up the path to her house. By then, she had grown slightly more accustomed to the pain and her vision came back into focus.

 The sight of their local healer pushing his wife up to their doorstep was one Sokka was horrified to see from their kitchen window. He then dropped the dishes he was washing in the sink before sprinting out the front door to meet them. He tried to get out as many questions as possible, a series of why's and how's and what's, but the healer hushed his inquiries in favor of getting Suki inside so she could do a proper inspection.

 “I brought some freshly picked lavender from my garden. Would you mind brewing us some tea for our patient here?” She suggested, offering him a knowing smile as a clear signal for him to leave them for the moment.

 Sokka knew it was just a ploy to get him out of the way, and that was something he should've been grateful for in hindsight, because he does not help anyone when he's panicking.

 Just as he was entering their bedroom with a tray of teacups in his hands, he heard the healer make mention of something neither of them could’ve ever expected. “You have a split pelvic bone,” She said gently, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “This could take months to heal with the baby's weight constantly pushing on it, maybe not even until after the birth.”

 Sokka's heart cracked when he saw the look on Suki's face when she was told it was imperative that she didn't train with her warriors again until after the baby came. He could see the tears she tried to blink away, and the heartbreak was evident through her expression.

 He normally would’ve rejoiced and rubbed it in when he was right, but not after seeing her face fall the way it did before she forced herself to replace it with a look of feigned composure.

 Sokka put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Suki put her hand on top his and squeezed back.

 And then she agreed without argument.

 ..

 After that incident, Sokka was sincerely worried about Suki and her behavior. She didn't act like herself anymore, and it terrified him. It was as if he was living with a stranger all the sudden. He felt completely unprepared and helpless as he watched her suffer, something he always feared.

 She didn't have odd cravings, she didn't have drastic mood swings, and she didn't even complain.

 In fact, she hardly talked at all.

 Suki had stayed almost completely silent the last trimester before the baby was born, but when she did speak, it was an even and monotone droning noise that always made Sokka anxious upon hearing it. However, the one thing that scared him more than anything was Suki's lack of reaction to her symptoms, circumstances, or their life in general. She lived in a state of complete apathy.

 Meaning Suki never cried.

 Or complained.

 Or got angry.

 Or smiled.

 Sokka knew she could handle herself, he knew it, and he was also certain it'd make her feel even less in control of her life if he tried to impose his fears on her. So, he tried to stay quiet. He tried to show support in the most basic ways, like taking her down the stairs when she needed help or sitting out on the porch with her for hours as they watched the day go by. He let her do whatever she wanted to do, but the issue was she never wanted to do much.

 Because she couldn't do much, if anything at all.

 But now he was laying in his bed, watching with sad eyes as his wife examined her growing belly with a critical look in the mirror. She inhaled deeply as she turned to the side slowly, wincing in pain to look at her reflection from a side view. He let her stand up and walk by herself whenever she wanted and only helped her when she asked, when the pain of her split pelvic bone overwhelmed her, despite the spike in his anxiety every time she moved without him.

  "It's getting bigger," She said, referencing to her round belly. "Gigantic, actually."

 "Is not," He snorted, trying to distract her. "It's barely bigger. You can't even tell you have a person growing inside you! That's what people call impressive."

 "That's what people call a lie." Suki sighed again and a frown made its way across her face for the billionth time in the past six months. "...But you're sweet."

 Sokka then threw off the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He joined his wife in the mirror and hugged her shoulders, resting his chin on her head. "I love you," He murmured into her hair. "And this little fetus of ours."

 "Do not call my son or daughter a fetus."

 "Opposed to what, an it?" He asked in disgust before letting out a laugh. "I bet it's a girl."

 "Do you want a girl?"

 "Yes and no. I just want one. Don't you?"

 She let out a sigh. “I just want to meet them as soon as possible."

 Sokka chuckled and kissed her on the cheek. "I think this is the most I've heard you talk in months." He immediately regretted saying those words when he saw her eyebrows furrow. Sokka felt his heart drop when she pulled away from him and turned her back.

 She stood silently for a moment, fiddling with her betrothal necklace before quietly mumbling, "I know."

 "Do you..." Sokka hesitated for a moment and fixed his gaze on their feet. "...maybe think we should see the healer?"

 She turned to look at him, a confused look on her face. "Why would we do that?"

 "Well...it’s just...been weeks since we've seen her and I think it might be good to get her opinion on a few of your symptoms...That's all."

  Suki cocked an eyebrow at him. "Meaning?"

 Sokka scratched the back of his head, his nerves rising. "Well... You've been...different... lately. You've been so sad and so not you, and I think something might be wrong-"

 "There's nothing wrong with me, Sokka. I'm not sick." She retorted sharply, as if to dismiss him.

 "Maybe not in the way we're used to. But this isn't normal, Suki. This—this depression—shouldn't be normal. It's hurting you, and that matters to me.”

 She stayed silent for a long moment, turning her back to him. "And you didn't think to bring this up to me until now?"

 Sokka let out a sigh and shook his head. "I didn’t know if it would upset you or not."

 "So, what if it did?" She turned to him, her expression stern. "Why would that have mattered? You didn't think I could handle it?"

 His eyes widened in panic. "Okay, I know where this is going, and no, it's not because I didn’t think you could handle it!" He tried to reason with her. "Clearly you can handle anything, because you're carrying a person inside of you." Sokka sighed, sitting on the edge of their bed and slumping his shoulders. "I just think you need a little more help with this one. Maybe there's something else we can take off your plate-"

 "What else can I possibly sacrifice, Sokka?" She asked honestly, sullenly staring down at the ground. He stopped his train of thought immediately, his breath hitching in the back of his throat when he saw her eyes well up with tears for the first time in months. She took a shaky breath in and tried to silence her soft sob by bringing her hand to her mouth.

 "Suki..." He murmured in shock, not knowing what else to do. Finally, after months of being an emotionless shell of the woman he loved, she was letting herself feel again. And for that he was grateful, but it still broke his heart to see her in pain. Sokka stood from his position on their bed and gently took her arms and guided her to sit down next to him.

  "What else could I possibly be doing better?” She cried, shaking her head and her chest rising and falling as she heaved. "I just don't understand...what else I can give..."

 "I...I'm not sure," He put his arms around her shoulders and tried to hold her as she cried in an attempt to calm her down, but he felt his anxiety start to bubble up as he racked his brain for another way to bring her comfort. "I know you're doing the best you can, and I wish I knew what I could do to help you. I'm sorry I've been useless, but I promise I'm going to do the best I can to take care of my-"

 Sokka could've sworn his heart stopped beating when he heard a very clear sploosh and felt drops of something hit his ankles.

 His eyes shot open and they both stayed completely still.

 Not even moving a muscle.

 ".... Sokka?"

 ".... Suki?"

 "I think...my water just...broke."

 He inhaled sharply, neither one of them moving still. "A-Are you sure?" He squeaked.

 "Well, considering there's a huge puddle on our floor and I'm soaking wet, yeah. I'd say I'm pretty sure."

 ...

 "Are you sure you can handle this?"

 Suki smiled nervously as she watched her husband take in panicked deep breaths and push them back out in a rapid speed, and if she wasn't in so much pain right now, she would've laughed at him. He was more nervous than she was, and all he'd done so far was sit in a chair and hold her hand. It's not like she was even squeezing that hard, or anything. "Because the last time you were around a woman giving birth, you didn't exactly have a positive reaction."

  No, he was just squeamish. Or a wimp. Or both, she really couldn't decide.

 "I'm good, great, awesome, fantastic." He whispered in a rushed fashion, and she wondered if he needed a paper bag or something because honestly, was he even breathing right now? "So good."

 Suki rolled her eyes.

 He sure was lucky he was cute.

 "It's time to start pushing, dear." The healer told her, and Suki took a deep breath before her eyes shifted over to her husband.

 "Try and stay awake this time.” She patted his arm lightly.

 ..

 "So, I get passing out's not on the table, but what about throwing up?" He pretended to gag.

 "Sokka!"

 "Okay, okay, kill a guy for trying to make a joke, why don't ya!"

 "Shut up!" He heard his wife growl, but he only smirked in response because HA! She was giving birth right now.

 Which meant she was too busy bringing their child into the world to punch him-

 "Ow!" He gasped before shooting her a quick glare. "Hey!"

 "I'm really going to need you to focus on your breathing, dear," The healer tried to tell them, and it was clear she was getting irritated with their banter. "We're almost there and you need the least amount of distractions as possible-"

 "Yeah, you focus on your breathing!"

 She squeezed his fingers so tight he thought she was going to crush it into dust and blow it out the window. Then he stopped talking, and all that could be heard from his lips were his squeals and whines of pain.

 He wife was strong.

 ..

  "The baby's crowning!" The healer exclaimed with a wide smile.

 "Hooray! Our kid's a king!" Sokka proclaimed, his right fist pumping into the air as his left stayed intertwined with his wife's.

 Suki groaned. He was making dad jokes and he wasn’t even a dad yet. " That’s the stupdist joke you’ve ever told me and I'm so going to kill you after this." But he could've sworn he saw a trace of a smile on her lips as sweat beaded down her forehead.

 He merely shrugged, a sly grin making its way across his cheeks, and teased, "Raise them by yourself then."

 "Anything would be better than our children growing up telling your awful jokes."

 His laugh was loud and hearty enough to echo throughout the entire healing hut, and Sokka thought he saw he watched the healer's eye twitch in annoyance.

 ...

  Sokka always knew he married a warrior, but this was some girl.

 He thought labor was quick.

 But they were in the delivery room for thirteen hours.

  Sokka was absolutely exhausted, he didn't even do anything, and he couldn't even imagine how draining it felt to have the energy sucked out of his wife by the time she gave her last push.

 He grasped her hand tightly as he heard her give out an ultimate sigh of relief and her cries were soon replaced with a smaller, less painful, voice.

 Sokka looked up at the healer with tears welling up in his eyes, his whole world coming to an abrupt halt and he couldn't focus on anything else other than the little bundle she wrapped in a blanket.

 "It's a boy," She whispered hoarsely. Sokka smiled and felt the tears start streaming down his cheeks.

 "It's a boy."

 ...

 "Well I for one think we should name our son Squishy."

 After months of questioning what his place was while his wife endured this pregnancy, he finally realized the best way to support her; making her laugh.

 And boy, was he a natural at that.

 He was great a comic relief.

 Sokka beamed down at his wife, lovingly stroking her hair, still damp with sweat. She looked up at him, exhaustion glazing over her eyes, but smiled warmly and chuckled. "You can call him that." He told him. "But I still want to go with the name we picked out."

 "Dad will be happy," He claimed, tracing his finger along his son’s cheek. "Koda suits you, Squish."  He bent down to kiss his forehead softly, then kissed his wife. "I love you. So much." He felt her smile against his lips.

  "And I love our son."

[whiteappalachianwitch]

The Eight Sabbats

There are eight major holidays Pagans celebrate throughout the year known as Sabbats. These holidays date back to pre-Christianity and are related to the movement of the sun. They are given names relative to the Celtic agricultural festivals. 

Historically we were once farmers and believed the sun moved around the earth. Modern Pagans are far moved from this way of life. However, the Sabbats are still important for connecting to the cycles of the seasons and human life. 

There are four astronomical holidays included in the Pagan Sabbats: the equinoxes and solstices--and the four traditional holidays in between. These eight festivals make the Wheel of the Year, observed in Wicca and Neo-Paganism religions that are Wicca-influenced. 

I Samhain: October 31st 

One of the most well-known Sabbat is Samhain, celebrated on October 31st. This holiday is celebrated as Halloween or All Hallows Eve also. Halloween is the time of the year when everyone participates in spooky activities and ancient superstitions. Culturally, Pagans and Witches are paid the most attention during this time of the year. 

Samhain is a term derived from the Irish Gaelic language meaning “summer’s end.” During this time, the days are short and the darker half of the solar year is near. Farmers will use up the remaining stores of perishable fruit and vegetables, and preserve other food to keep throughout the winter. Livestock is also slaughtered that does not feed through the winter, a reason why Samhain is referred to as the Third Harvest, or Blood Harvest. 

Pagans and superstitious peoples believe the boundary between worlds is at its thinnest during Samhain. This holiday is referred to as Ancestor’s Night or the Feast of the Dead. Many witches believe Samhain is the best time to communicate with ancestors and honored spirits, also known as the beloved dead. Lonely or angry spirits are believed to wander the earth on Samhain night looking to irritate humans. 

Celebrate How To

Samhain is the beginning of the new year for Pagans. Reflection and celebration are the focal points of this holiday. Casting off the old year’s attachments and turning attention to winter and it’s scarcity. Feast on the last of summer’s harvest and contemplate what is worth saving and nurturing during the dark times of winter; make friends with Death. 

It is important to note participating in the celebrations of Halloween and trick or treating. This is a celebration of muggles, but has its roots in old Pagan beliefs anyway. 

Samhain rituals may involve ancestor alters, where participants are invited to place mementos and offerings for the beloved dead. The priest or priestess may invoke a deity ruling over transitions or migration of souls, such as Morrighan, Hecate, or Hermes. Individuals who died during the previous year or long ago may have their names spoken. 

Feasting is important in Samhain rituals. To eat sweets is to acknowledge the sweetness of life and its impermanence. To eat meat is to acknowledge all flesh must die and become nourishment. Food is also an offering to the dead for communication of fond memories, pay of respects, and appease hungry ghosts. Some Pagans will leave a plate out at the Samhain table for spirits that may visit. Dumb supper is a silent meal when Pagans invite their ancestors both known and unknown to come and feast. 

II Yule: ~December 21st

The Winter Solstice, or Yule, is the longest night of the year. If you live in the northern hemisphere Yule falls on or around December 21st. The darkest parts of the year is over and the days begin increasing in length after the winter solstice. 

Christmas falls around this time of year, adopting Yule customs. Christmas is the belief of the birthday of a divine infant who is conceived in the spring. The dark of midwinter is the time of the confinement of the Goddess in labor as she prepares to welcome the solar child. On the longest night, the Sun God is born as the earths creatures praise and thank Him. 

Celebrate How To

Passive, personal magick during Yuletide is the best practice for short days of work and long nights of dreaming. Set your intentions and incubate plans. Mental and spiritual preparation is important during Yule for the light half of the year. Some Pagans keep a midwinter vigil while they wait for the rebirth of the sun at dawn. 

Yule is not usually a time for group ritual gatherings since many are visiting family and traveling. For this reason, the rituals during Yule are more home-y and conventional. 

Decorate with evergreens and holly, exchange gifts, and light a candle to herald the return of the sun on Midwinter Eve. If you are ambitious, set the Yule log blazing. Give thanks for the life-giving energy of the sun. 

III Imbolic: February 1st

Imbolc is a festival of spring and purification. Celebrated on February 1st, the day of not yet spring in most of the world. This is the first of the three Pagan fertility festivals, with the other two Ostara and Beltane. 

Imbolc is an Old Irish term meaning “in the belly” associated with the coming of lambing season. Other festivals that coincide with Imbolc are Candlemas, a Christian festival, and the old farmer’s oracle Groundhog’s Day, both on February 2nd. 

Imbolc is significant for our ancestors because this was the beginning of the ground thaw when planting season preparations were made. The land was surveyed and inventory of tools were made for repairs and modifications that were necessary. Witches would also prepare by cleaning and blessing the altars and making sure tools of practice were attuned with intent for use. 

The mythical side of Imbolc is a celebration of awakening the Goddess after her journey of birth to the young God at Yule. The first stirrings of life after winter are observed. Energies of creativity and imagination are brought about by Imbolc. For this reason, many projects that were put on hold are now being picked back up again. Midwinter dreams resolve into visible shapes. 

Celebrate How To

Brigid holds Imbolc especially sacred as the Celtic Goddess of hearth fire, healing, the bardic arts, and smith work. Brigid can be honored with candlelight, poems, and woven ornaments known as Brigid’s crosses within Imbolc rituals. Cleansing, healing and blessing are appropriate since the first light of spring is evident. 

During Imbolc, it is a time for spiritual dedication and re-dedication. New members are often initiated in covens, especially women’s covens, at Imbolc. Examining and refreshing your practice during Imbolc is appropriate if you are a seasoned Pagan. If you are too relaxed and have not given time to your craft, Imbolc is an opportunity to purify intent and reconnect spiritually. Light candles, open windows, and wash the floors to cast winter gloom out. You may also use Imbolc for divination for the year’s harvest ahead. 

This holiday is not a time for feasting. The first food of the year is dairy, butter, milk, and cream; foods for the Imbolc table. 

IV Ostara: ~March 21st

The spring equinox, also known as Ostara, falls on or about March 21st in the northern hemisphere. This equinox is the time Pagans refer to as Mabon, the opposite of the autumn equinox. 

Ostara is the second of the three fertility festivals, where blessings of spring become more apparent in the natural world. Flowers are blooming, birds and bees are twitter pated, and pastel-colors fill the stores. Eggs and bunnies, ancient fertility symbols, appear everywhere; Ostara is the Sabbat with the rabbit, ha! 

Ostara is the midpoint of the year where the day and night are equal. The Sun God has been growing and gathering his strength since Yule, making his age an adolescent. The Great Goddess is getting younger and in her maiden form. The two are youthful, full of lust, and the same age, which will soon have them conceive a child born at Yule. 

Celebrate How To

The time of Ostara is a great time for love, prosperity, and gains of any kind within your magickal work. Harness the energy of the lengthening days to propel your desires and projects into fruition. The land is beautiful and nourishing, and the earth Goddess is honored. 

Ostara is a good time of reflection on the principle of balance. For this reason, it is a good time to balance work, family, art, spirituality and all your responsibilities. Take time to notice things that have shifted your balance. Reset priorities. 

V Beltane: May 1st

The ancient name for the May Day rite is Beltane. This festival was originally a fire festival and celebrated in Ireland and Scotland before the days of Christianity. The god Bel, or “the bright one,” is responsible for the name of this festival and means “Bel’s fire.” On the Celtic Pagan calendar, Beltane is the second of the two principle festivals, with the other one being Samhain. Samhain and Beltane are the two markers of the magickal year, when the gates of Faery and the spirit world are the most open to travel. 

Within Wicca, Beltane is a festival of sexual activity since it is the last of the three fertility festivals. During this time, the Maiden Goddess takes the young God as her lover. Wiccans will marry as the Great Rite to enact this drama the High Priestess and High Priest; their union will bless the land. 

Celebrate How To

With unbridled sensuality and revelry, Beltane is the time of sexual rites. However, this is a rare occurrence and you’re most likely to witness a symbolic Great Rite with a chalice and athame, or a dance around the maypole rather than an orgy. 

Bonfires, festivals, concerts, and campouts are the social aspects of Beltane season. If you are a solitary witch, you may make an altar to the young god and Goddess, or connect with a lover. Flowers, Honey, sweets, and wine are good things to place on your altar. This is also a good time for illusion, seduction, and Faery tricks. 

Beltane is a popular time for proposals, handfastings, and renewing of vows. The combination of masculine and feminine energy will become a powerful alchemical surge for any spell work. 

VI Litha: ~June 21st

The summer solstice, or Litha, is the time in the northern hemisphere around June 21st. Bonfires to keep the sun’s light alive for long as possible are lit. Blessing of the crops in the fields and banishing evil spirits is common practice.

Litha is the day when the Sun God is his most powerful self. The sun and the element of fire rule Litha. After Litha, the nights will be longer and the sun will move farther away. Within Litha, anticipating crop is evident as the fall harvest is imminent. The Midsummer Night was blessed, according to Medieval people, and whatever a person dreamed on this night will come true.  

Celebrate How To

Rituals are usually outdoors during Litha, as it is the time to take advantage of the long hours of day. This Sabbat is joyous with bonfires and summer games. Decorate the altar with solar symbols and honor the God as Father. 

Any magick ruled by the sun is perfect for Litha. Spells of cleansing, protection, charisma, and truth are especially appropriate. 

VII Lammas:~August 1st

This holiday is the first harvest festival on the Pagan calendar. This celebration is related to an old agricultural holiday of reaping of grain. Lammas most likely comes from the Old English term for “loaf mass.” Loaves of bread would have been prepared from the first grain and blessed by churches. Lammas is also known as Lughnasadh, named after the Celtic sun God, Lugh. 

The days grow shorter in the summer, and the sun God will lose his strength. He will die in the fields to nourish the people in preparation for rebirth at Yule. 

Celebrate How To

During this time, it is appropriate to welcome the harvest. Give thanks to this year’s work and plans as you will soon enjoy the fruits of labor. Grain is the food of tradition for Lammas, in the form of wheat, barley, beers, and ales. 

Lammas/Lughnasadh is celebrated in Celtic Paganism as the feast of Lugh, who is an agricultural god, but also a poet, musician, and craftsman. Showing off skills and trading them for things you need is a common practice. This time is usually a time of craft fairs and local markets. 

VIII Mabon:~ September 21st

The final of the eight Sabbats is Mabon, or the autumn equinox. The days will begin to shorten and winter is coming. Mabon is also known as the Second Harvest because of the reaping of autumn fruits and nuts. This holiday brings with it the time of deep contemplation for what we have worked for in the previous year and the rewards for reaping. Giving thanks to the waning sunlight in preparation for storing bounty away for the scarce season. The shift from active magick to contemplative magick is made in Mabon. This is the final time for prosperity, gratitude, security, and balance work. 

Celebrate How To

The hard work of harvest is done and now we must celebrate! It is sad to watch the growth season’s beauty fade, but the mild weather and rest autumn brings is welcomed. 

With Mabon brings comfort foods that promote fond memories and connection through sharing. Bake, brew, pickle, and can; offer wine, cider, fruits, and boughs upon the Mabon table. The Cornucopia is the centerpiece of most Pagans during Mabon. 

Mabon is the turning point to the dark half of the year on the Pagan religious calendar. The shift away from youthful merriment is made. Honoring the Crone and Sage deities, the cycles of aging and death, and the spirit world are appropriate during Mabon. 

This Sabbat is a popular time for outdoor rituals large in size mostly because of the weather. Gathering to feast and express gratitude for the planet during Mabon is the focal point. Some cities will host public Mabon rituals as a part of their annual Pagan Pride Day. If you are a Pagan in solitary you may celebrate Mabon with offerings at a home altar, or walking in the woods in deep contemplation. 

Reference

Gruben, M. (2017, November 26). The eight Sabbats: Witch's holidays. Retrieved July 19, 2020, from https://www.groveandgrotto.com/blogs/articles/the-eight-sabbats-witchs-holidays

[jolinarjackson]

If you do have time could you write about Harley and Peter meeting. Thanks.

PS I think you're a superb writer. I love you ❤❤❤

Thank you so much for your kind words. I feel like I’ve been slipping recently in my writing, so that means a lot to me. :)

Sorry, this took a couple of days but I was able to write something for you. :D

TW for a canon-typical injury and off-screen violence.

Many thanks to @notaparty-trick for beta-reading this. :D

The moment Peter set foot in Tony’s dark New York apartment, pressing a hand against a bleeding wound in his side and yanking his mask off, he knew that something was wrong.

Tony had texted him in the afternoon, telling him that something had come up and he had to cancel their lab session. Usually ‘something’ was Avengers business at the Compound that he didn’t want Peter to know about. Which was fine with him for the moment. Ever since he’d come back from being dusted, his eagerness to be an Avenger had taken a backseat to getting his life back in order. This included patrolling Queens as Spider-Man to get the crime rate back to more manageable levels.

And he’d made good progress over the past few months.

Unfortunately, he had also gotten hurt a few times which always led him to Tony’s apartment. It was conveniently located right by Queensboro Bridge. Taking care of his injuries here was preferable to going home and worrying May and Happy. The last thing Peter wanted was to disturb a romantic date night by showing up with a stab wound.

Now, Peter wasn’t so sure whether he’d made the right choice.

FRIDAY had let him in through the balcony sliding door without an issue and activated the night lighting mode, which was barely enough to illuminate the large space that was the living room, dining room and kitchen. Peter would have asked her to increase the lighting, but his spidey-sense alerting him to some sort of danger stopped him.

He paused in the middle of the room, straining to hear anything unusual and had just made out the heartbeat and breathing of a second person when his spidey-sense pushed him to jump and roll towards the side.

Something shattered behind him, evidently intended for Peter, and he shot out a web towards a person he saw running for the hallway, snagging their feet and yanking them backwards. He heard a yelp and a body connecting with the floor. The move aggravated his stab wound and sent a sharp pain through his chest; he was distracted enough for a moment that his spidey-sense didn’t alert him in time to duck.

Something hit him in the chest and he was thrown backward against the couch, the wind knocked out of him, his side screaming in protest. He felt his vision fade. Black spots danced in his vision.

The lights came on fully and he saw a blur that looked distinctly like Tony in the doorway. “What the hell is going … Peter?!” He hurried closer, asking, “Harley, you okay?”

A voice presumably belonging to Peter’s attacker groaned, “I hit my head.”

“Give me a sec,” Tony responded, kneeling by Peter’s side and pressing his hand against the stab wound. Peter hissed in pain. Tony looked back over his shoulder at the guy named Harley. “Are you sure you can stand?”

“I’m okay.”

“Get me a towel, then, okay? Quickly.” He turned back to Peter, his dark eyes full of concern. “What happened?”

Peter’s vision swam and his head lolled back against the couch, everything around him starting to fade.

Tony patted Peter’s cheek insistently. “Hey, hey, stay with me now, buddy.”

“Knife,” Peter said.

“Is that Spider-Man?” Harley asked. “Did I just kill Spider-Man?!”

Everything went black.

***

The tv mumbled in the background and the smell of scrambled eggs hung in the air when Peter woke up on the couch. A young man was standing at the end of it, staring at Peter and biting his thumbnail.

Peter’s side throbbed, the pain of fresh stitches pulling at his skin. He was wearing his suit, though when he probed near where the injury was, he noticed that a hole had been cut into it to get to the wound. His mask was resting on the coffee table. The young man at the end of the couch knew his identity now. Peter heaved a sigh - which pulled at his stitches again. “Ow.”

“This is the third time, Peter,” Tony said, coming towards him from the kitchen with a spatula in his hand. “The third time I have to stitch you up in the middle of the night.”

“I didn’t know you were here. I thought you were out.”

Tony shook his head. “Not my point.” His eyes widened. “How often do you come here injured when you think I’m out?”

Peter swallowed and lied, “This was the first time.”

“FRIDAY?”

“That is correct,” she confirmed.

Tony stared at him, his brows furrowed, his head tilted … yeah, Peter was screwed. “FRIDAY,” Tony said. “Don’t forget who gave you life and can take it away again.”

There was a pause, FRIDAY weighing her loyalty for Tony against her loyalty for Peter, then, “Four times.”

“Traitor,” Peter muttered as he sat up carefully.

The spatula pointed at him accusingly. “What the hell, Peter?”

“Your apartment was closer and you know how May gets when I come home injured. And Happy gets all frowny and judgy and … parent-y.”

“Woe is you,” Tony replied. “People love you.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “The eggs will burn.”

Tony huffed and returned to the kitchen.

Peter looked at the young man – Harley – then, who had been watching their exchange quietly, still biting his thumb. “Hi. I’m Peter. Obviously.”

Harley stared at him and then brushed a nervous hand through the already messy blond hair on his head. “I almost killed you.”

“Well, no,” Peter said. “The knife almost killed me. You just … didn’t help.”

“I was getting some water. I thought you were an intruder.”

Tony shoveled scrambled eggs onto a plate. “Note to self,” Tony said. “Don’t leave gauntlets lying around where overeager kids can find and use them to accidentally kill local vigilantes.”

“Note recorded, boss,” FRIDAY replied dutifully.

“Well,” Peter said, looking at Harley with a smile, “I appreciate you were trying to protect Mr. Stark.”

Tony handed him a plate stacked high with eggs. “I don’t need protecting. By the way, this is Harley.” He put a hand on Harley’s shoulder. “The other kid I somehow acquired without knowing how.”

“I’m Harley,” the young man said, still staring at Peter.

Tony frowned at him and then looked back at Peter. “He’s usually more talkative and less … well, no, he’s always kind of awkward.”

“You’re Spider-Man,” Harley said. “You’re, like … twelve.”

“I’m seventeen, but thanks,” Peter replied.

“He’s younger than me,” Harley said to Tony, “and he’s Spider-Man.”

Tony clapped his shoulder. “Yeah, imagine this: I found him when he was only fourteen and fighting crime in a onesie.”

“It wasn’t a onesie,” Peter muttered. “They were sweatpants and a shirt. They were not connected.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tony replied, rolling his eyes. “It wasn’t a onesie. They were pajamas.”

“You suck,” Peter said, shoveling eggs into his mouth.

Tony sighed deeply. “He also used to idolize me. Good times.” He looked at Harley. “And I found him in a shed in the middle of nowhere, attacking me with a potato gun.”

“I didn’t attack you, I threatened you,” Harley replied. “Because you broke into my shed.”

Tony sighed. “As I said, good times.” He turned away towards the kitchen, his shoulders slumped in resignation, but Peter saw a smirk grow on his lips as he left.

Harley seemed to shake himself from his stupor and said, “I’m sorry for almost killing you.”

“That’s fine,” Peter replied, shrugging. “I’m sorry for making you fall.”

Harley touched the back of his head and shrugged. “I’ll live.” He stepped a little closer. “So your webs are so cool. How do you make them?”

“It’s a secret,” Peter replied.

“He doesn’t even tell me,” Tony called from the kitchen.

“Because you’re bad at keeping secrets.”

“I’m the best at keeping secrets.”

“Really?” Peter asked. “Mr. ‘I am Iron Man’ Stark?”

“Hey,” Tony replied, putting the spatula in the dishwasher. “At least I don’t claim to have a secret identity, then walk around without my mask on.”

“I took it off inside your apartment.”

“And one more person now knows who you are. So how did that work out for you?”

Peter glared at him.

Harley laughed.

Tony said, “Hey, Harley, could you do me a favor and get an ice pack from the freezer in the workshop?”

Harley nodded and left quickly.

Peter frowned at Tony. “There are ice packs in the freezer in the kitchen.”

Tony came over to Peter. “I know. I needed a minute.” He looked at him critically. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Peter said. “A little sore but I’ll heal. Thanks for the stitches.”

Tony nodded. “Sorry for not telling you I’d be here. It’s just … Harley turned up this morning. He had a fight with his mom and he … needed a break. I would have told you but I thought he wouldn’t want you to know, so I thought I’d give him today and introduce the two of you tomorrow.”

“It’s fine, Tony. Really.”

“I think the two of you will get along. He’s an engineering major, he likes science, you both love me.”

Peter huffed a laugh. “Love to make fun of you, you mean.”

Tony smiled and shook his head. “I have no idea why I deserve this abuse.” He reached out and pulled Peter into a quick hug. “Glad you’re okay.”

[deerlyloved]

drops of jupiter

under cut: a long story about my oc mei finding a piece of her past...and breaking down

Sweat dripped from Mei's forehead, and she raised the back of her hand to wipe it off, eyes flicking from end to end of the metal corridor as she walked. Rea was behind her, a fact that made her ever-growing nerves slow just a bit. And then, he spoke.

 "What was that?"

 Mei gulped, shaking her head, "I don't know. I just… I just don't know, Captain."

 The use of his title from the blue-haired woman made Rea almost grimace, and he felt the need to mention it-- She only used. titles when she was too nervous to think of a funny comeback, some small rebellious comment.

 "We just… Let's keep moving, okay? Let's find the other two, safety in numbers. One thing at a time, you know me." Mei gave a nervous laugh, and the anxiety she felt seemed to strike Rea as well, the patch of scales above his eyes glowing faintly before they dimmed like they did when he felt 'connected' with someone's feelings.

 After a few more steps, Mei slowed down, putting a hand up and then tapping her ear to tell Rea to listen. There was some noise from deeper in the collection of junk, echoing off so many walls and metal barriers that it was distorted and broken, but still audible. Rea looked confused, just as Mei did, and she motioned to keep walking, though more slowly.

 The longer they walked, the louder the noise grew, until a noticeable tune could be understood. Something seemed to dawn on Mei once this new rhythm could be understood, and her face fell once they reached a door. It connected to another ship that was connected to it through chains, the two ramps from the doors resting on each other to form a bridge.

 Across the bridge that dropped into the void, barely encircled by fiberglass, there was a door spray painted with pink stripes, graffitied with 'No Entry!' and a crude drawing of a gun and bullets. Mei stared at it for longer than she wanted to admit, until Rea put a large, rough hand on her shoulder. She didn't hear what he asked of her, but she answered anyway, "Let's go." She murmured, moving across the bridge. She opened the door easily, it had been busted through ages ago, and moved inside.

 The corridor led to a wider space, what was supposed to be a control area had been obviously used as a living room at some point, though any valuables in it had long been stripped from it. Wires hung from walls where valuable material had been ripped out, holes in the window in the perfect shape of projectiles from a typical war ship that went straight into the floor and wall behind it, the whole place was a mess.

 And yet, Mei looked upon the whole area with bitter knowing, and Rea wondered briefly if she knew this ship. The woman took a slow, almost cautious step in, like she was expecting it to snatch her up and swallow her whole, but nothing happened. Debris floated carelessly around them, the artificial gravity barely holding down the few pieces of furniture that remained, sparks from the wires with what must have been the bare minimum amount of power left, trying their hardest to continue their work.

 The tune that bellowed out from ships away rung clear and true inside this one, though through busted intercoms, slightly staticky and echoing off empty walls and stagnant air. Rea shut the door behind them, the air that had left the room returning through a barely functioning aerator. It made a rattling noise when it activated.

 The intercom blared out an old song, and Rea remembered so distinctly hearing Mei sing it in her free time. Drops of Jupiter.

 Whoever owned this ship before it was made junk, they were clearly skilled to have equipment still functioning, or at least trying to. The place looked like it had been dead for years, if not longer.

 "Do you think it's in here too?"

 "No." Mei answered, more matter-of-factly than she had been with anything before, "Internal defenses work better the longer the ships offline. The run off technology from Icka's species."

 "Mei…?"

 "They kill anything that doesn't belong. Hostile life, basically. Anything that doesn't come in with me or my seal is eliminated."

 Rea didn't reply, and Mei didn't say anything further. She simply walked in further to the ship, glancing towards the cracked and broken window, sealed with last minute expanding foam. She remembered when it was cracked. The fear she felt for a split second when the projectile went whizzing over her head. The instant beeping from Karen over the intercom, the warning of the broken window.

 The song began to replay the song, repeating for one of the hundreds of thousands of times.

 Now that she's back in the atmosphere, with drops of Jupiter in her hair, hey, hey

 "Let's go."

 "Mei, what is--"

 "Not now. Not now, Rea. Anywhere else, any time else, but not…"

 She started walking before she finished, walking down the corridor that split off from the main room. "This leads to the escape pods and the emergency exit. Hopefully they're connected to more junk."

 She acts like summer and walks like rain, reminds me that there's a-time to change, hey, hey

 Rea followed, though hesitantly, face grim as he watched the usual perky, upbeat woman brought so solemn by a rundown junk ship. She had her gun drawn, lowered towards the ground as she walked carelessly. She obviously was confident in those defenses she was talking about, and Rea once more found it contagious.

 Mei stuttered to a stop after a few seconds of walking in silence, turning her head to the right with a frown. She moved to open the door, pressing her hand into the metal before she pushed it open, the sliding door screeching but eventually giving in. It opened up to a room that was just as bright as the door outside. Decorated in pink, torn and faded posters barely clinging to the walls with tape, obviously scavenged through knick-knacks and missing weapons from weapon racks, and in the corner, a bed.

 Since the return of her stay on the moon, she listens like spring and she talks like June, hey, hey. Hey, hey.

 It had a blue bed set, decorated with stars and planets like a child's, messy as could be. A poster of an Earth singer hung above the bed, smiling out into an empty room. Mei stood in the doorway for a few silent moments before she moved further in, slinging her gun back over her shoulder as she looked around the room.

 It had, funnily enough, barely been touched. Just as messy as she left it, with a few things missing.

 "This room was the only place I could feel safe." She managed to say, though breathlessly. "Only place that made me feel like I was home. Back with my dad. Safe again. I don't know why I ever left him."

 But tell me , did you sail across the sun? Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded? And that heaven is overrated?

 "I thought it was my destiny, I guess. It just ended up being why…" She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence as she spotted a floating picture frame, barely hovering over a nightstand next to her old bed.

 Her feet moved before she could even realize it, and soon she was reaching for the frame, hand outstretched shaky as she grabbed it and pulled it back to her. Mei flipped it in her hands, face contorted into a look of sorrow.

 It was a picture of her and her dad. She was a little younger than she was currently, lacking the trademark scar across her eye, hair just as bright blue as ever but this time short and covered by a yellow beanie. She had her arms around an older Japanese man, wearing the exact contrast to her outfit, a button up shirt with a vest and tie, while Mei was in a bright pink tank top and jean shorts in the picture. The man looked kind, a loving smile to match Mei's excited one, arms wrapped around her just as tight.

 Tell me, did you fall from a shooting star? One without a permanent scar? And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

 Mei clutched the picture close to her chest, staring into the darkness outside of the small, untouched window above the nightstand. She didn't hear Rea approach her, barely noticed when he put a large, clawed hand on her shoulder.

 The song echoed through the halls. Mei turned it on before she left. As she rushed through the halls, she had slid into the computer room, uploading Karen's consciousness onto a flash drive as she leaned over to the intercom system. She figured if there was a chance she wouldn't make it, she'd go out listening to a good goddamn song.

 Now that she's back from that soul vacation, tracing her way through the constellation, hey, hey. She checks out Mozart while she does tae-bo, reminds me that there's a-room to grow, hey, hey, yeah

 Mei remembered running through the halls, her robotic friend tucked safely into a flash drive where the ship falling apart around them couldn't hurt her. She remembered barely managing to get into an escape pod, crashing to an unknown planet with the first injury she'd received in a long while.

 Most of all, Mei remembered being captured. Hauled in to the ship she couldn't outrun on land with her new injuries, face dripping blue blood as she was thrown behind bars for a reason she still couldn't understand. She remembered a human walking in, and the confusion that struck her before she spoke.

 "Ms. Amari. We regret to inform you that your father, Richard Amari, was murdered two nights ago. You are a suspect in the case opened on this atrocity, as your sealed records have revealed...” They sighed at her, like they were bored, “You have the right to remain silent, as anything you say will be used as evidence in the case. You have the right to defend yourself in this case, if you wish. Do you understand what I have told you, and do you agree to a discussion of your involvement in this situation?"

 Such a mouthful. So many words for 'we're framing you for murder, dumbass, also we killed your dad', now wasn't it?

 Now that she's back in the atmosphere, I'm afraid that she might think of me as plain ol' Jane, told a story about a man who is too afraid to fly so he never did land.

 "Mei."

 The voice was different, and it snapped her back to reality, though just barely. Just barely. It was rough, deep, has a hint of a hiss to it.

 "Mei, are you okay?"

 "I'm fine." Mei replied, shrugging off the hand on her shoulder, the picture still clutched close to her chest.

 "Mei, what happened here?"

 But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet? Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day? And head back to the Milky Way?

 Mei winced, her frown deepening, a permanent grimace on her face now as she stared at Rea. Where would she even start?

 "I…I was framed. You know that. The story of Mei, a supposed martyr. An Earth official from the US was xenophobic, he wanted to start a war again to ruin Earth's relationship with the Citadel. So, he killed a handful of important humans, one of which…"

 "Was your dad."

 "Yeah. They tried to frame me for it, and tried to frame others for the other murders, and… It worked. But you know me, right?" Mei gave a saddened chuckle, "I don't go down without a fight… So I escaped. I stayed on the run, found evidence, and when that bastard was giving a speech--"

 "I know. You killed him."

 And tell me, did Venus blow your mind? Was it everything you wanted to find? And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

 "Killed him? I pinned him down on stage. I played all the recordings I had, showed all the proof that he had plotted it all and set it all up. Karen had a slideshow going past on every channel. I made everyone watch those poor people being murdered. I ruined him. He couldn't even defend himself, hard to think with a gun in your mouth."

 "Those below, Mei, that's--"

 "Less than what he had coming for him. That was him getting off easy. So was getting the quick way out when I pulled the fucking trigger."

 Rea seemed almost uncomfortable, but he didn't show it, just watching, listening, waiting.

 Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken? Your best friend always sticking up for you, even when I know you're wrong. Can you imagine no first dance, freeze-dried romance? Five-hour phone conversation, the best soy latte that you ever had, and me.

 "They destroyed my ship. Tried to shoot me down, didn't work, so they captured me. I ran through here thinking I was going to die. Downloaded Karen. Kept running. I was planning on…On going back to Earth when I was shot at. To see him."

 Rea had nothing to say in return. It was evident on his face that he was at a loss for words for once, and he stared at her with some mix of shock and sympathy on his face. To Mei, however, it just looked like pity, and she glared at him.

 "Don't look at me like that. Don't. I got revenge. I fixed it. It's why I'm here, they couldn't convict me of murder without making me a martyr. Couldn't kill me without riots. So don't look at me like that."

 But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet? Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day? And head back toward the Milky Way?

 "What way?"

 "That way! Like you're sad for me! Don't be sad for me, don't think this is sad!"

 "It is sad!"

 "It's a goddamn travesty! You shouldn't be sad here, you shouldn't think the worst moments of my life are sad, because you have no idea what it was actually like, Rea!"

 And tell me, did you sail across the sun? Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded? And that heaven is overrated?

 "I can still feel bad for you, Mei!"

 "No you can't. You can't because feeling bad that my father was murdered, that my life was ruined, that the only people that could protect me mocked me in a jail cell after I brought that fucker to justice because I was a vigilante, because I should have trusted the system."

 The air between them grew tense, and Rea bristled as she clenched her fists around the picture frame in her hands.

 "You can't feel bad for me because you're a CCF officer, Rea, you serve the Earth government."

 "So do you--"

 "Because they made me. My choices were rot in jail or join the CCF. One more attempt to control me and keep their public image while they were at it."

 And tell me, did you fall from a shooting star? One without a permanent scar? And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself…

 They stared at each other, Mei with a contempt she'd hidden since she'd joined the CCF, Rea with a look of surprise and his trademark disapproval. The room was silent, save for the blaring music from the intercom, but Rea broke the silence between them with a sigh, a groan, and a shake of his head.

 "We will…discuss this later. We need to find the other members of our team. We have a mission, let's finish it."

 Mei didn't reply. She just kept the picture frame cradled against her chest, face heavy as she turned to walk out of the room and through the broken sliding door. The tune played as she trekked through the corridor, Rea just behind her like before, but this time the silence wasn't one of strategy and trust, but rather quiet seething and a fear of losing someone else.

 And are you lonely looking for yourself out there?

[kpopchangedme]

Nocturna: Part V [M]

The fragile peace between undead and lycanth is imperilled your arrival to the Inferorum Castrum. Between the changing power dynamics of the wolf pack and the insatiable urges of the vampire king, you aren’t exactly sure where your loyalty lies.

Protagonists: Bang Chan & You | Im Jaebeom & You

Word Count: 5.4k

Genre: NSFW | *SMUT* | Supernatural!au | Vampires | Werewolves | Angst | Romance | Love Triangle

Nocturna Masterlist | HALLOWEEN

Your eyes are shut, brows creased in concentration, sweat pearls on your forehead. All you can hear is the sound of the two wolves’ beating hearts behind you; the bird yelling at the squirrel in the sycamore tree; someone rummaging in the Castrum’s kitchen; and…

You tilt your head, focusing. Unfortunately, right when you’re about to get it the Beta behind breaks the moment. 

“Come on…” Minho scoffs, irritated. “Louder Yeji, I’m dying over here!” 

On the other side of the Castrum ground, several miles away, a crystal high-pitched giggle echoes. One that you hear perfectly. You must actively fight your urge to run over and murder the younger wolf. You aren’t sure why, but it’s inherent, you simply cannot stand the girl.

“Is she even saying something?” You glare at Minho, and his eyes narrow in dislike at your animosity. His rank is way above yours, for now at least, and he’s been tolerant so far since you’re acclimating. It doesn’t mean he’ll always let your rudeness slide, you know that.

“Yes,” Youngjae assures, sitting on a wood bench with an open illustrated book on his knees, “again. What is Yeji saying?” 

“Do you even need me?” Minho whines, “We’ve been at it for hours!”

“I didn’t ask you to come.” The Delta points out, flipping a page. Minho pouts, craving being elsewhere, anywhere. He despises you and the feeling is very mutual.

You aren’t dumb, you know why they’re all training with you today, it’s not because they enjoy your company. It’s obviously Chan who asked them to keep an eye on you. You haven’t spoken to each other since that day he fought with the Omegas, but he’s still your mate, and somehow he cares. The following morning you woke up to find out he and Jackson had left for a ‘mission’ somewhere. Chan didn’t even bother saying goodbye. He either hates you now or believes you wouldn’t even have seen him. You might have… You’ve been feeling especially shitty since that day. There's a knot in your stomach, and you know it isn't about your bond. It's him. Even if you are rightfully angry, your old friend is the only thing that feels like home here. That’s why you’re trying to take your training more seriously these days, you need to belong. You are doing your best... But that Beta and that Epsilon are getting on your nerves, always laughing when you’re messing up! Earlier, you couldn’t distinguish colours on brightly lit targets, and they had a field trip mocking you.

Honestly, out of your five senses, your view has changed the most since the bite. It has decreased dramatically in the daylight, so you’re having trouble with colours, but you can see in perfect darkness. Also, your field of vision is way broader than it used to be. Even with Minho and Youngjae standing in your back, you can see them clearly.

“Yeji, focus.” Youngjae orders, not even raising his gaze from his book. “No, not louder, she needs to learn.” 

“But she’s so damn slow.” Yeji whines, 3 miles away. “It’s tragic Chan’s stuck with her. I can’t understand what he see-”

“Watch it, glob of snot!” Your lips stretch to uncover your teeth and a weird sound births at the back of your throat.

Behind, Minho’s mouth falls open. “The pup's hearing seems fine after all, she’s just very selective about it.” 

“Good.” This time, the kind Delta stands to join you. “After tomorrow night, you’ll be able to hear that from double the distance!” Youngjae playfully hits you with his book, and your cheeks warm. You feel weirdly proud, gratified to have managed to do this little.

“Will he be...” His brows raise and you stop, looking down at the tip of your boots in the grass, too embarrassed.

“The whole pack always goes out as one, once a month.” Minho replies with a smirk, amused you’re acting coy. “I would actually be excited for your First Full Moon if Chan wasn’t there to damage control.”

“Why?” You frown, unsure if a first transformation is anything special to watch. You’ve heard about the pain of the first turn, but not much after their ‘it feels amazing’ usual speech. You are genuinely curious.

“I’d love to watch you go berserk.” Minho snarls sarcastically, making Youngjae close both eyes disheartened. “Given your considerate nature, I bet you'd obliterate an entire villa-”

“I’d obliterate you first, wimp!” Vexed, you jump forward until you’re almost against the Beta's chest. You thought he was giving you advice or some sensitive information at last. Turns out he was just pushing your buttons once more. Every werewolf has been irritated and sensitive today. Anyway, ever since the bite, you’ve been continuously picking up fights.

“Try me.” The triggered older wolf uncovers his canines, holding your glare. He’s threatening without the need of a growl, Minho is still one of the pack’s warriors. 

“In its own time.” Youngjae stretches an arm to pull him back, not the least frightened bt the animosity between you two. 

“Yeah, challenge me soon, puppy.” The cocky Beta steps away, his weird dire smile still plastered on. “Let’s see you go at it. An Alpha is only as strong as his Lead Huntress after all.” 

“Jackson doesn’t have one, but you still run around with your tail between your legs whenever he barks!”

“Careful or you’ll never even make it to your First Moon, bitch!” Minho’s jaw snaps, and you snort, remaining unimpressed. There it is; that word again. “And we do have a Lead Huntress, trust me. You’re nothing compared to her.”

Youngjae steps between you two once more for the confrontation to end. You notice others have already started gathering at the entrance of the castle and on the outskirts of the wood. All lycanth really seem to love a good clash. You don’t even ponder on Minho’s cryptic words about the Alpha, you’re too mad to focus. Perhaps it’s real, maybe your level of irritation and hostility has more to do with the imminent Full Moon than any of your real frustrations. 

“The sun is setting.” Youngjae points out blankly right as Sana jogs up to you. “You should make it back to your room, y/n. You’ll need a lot of sleep. Tomorrow’s a pretty big day.”

Agreeing, you leave and no wolf makes a sound as you walk by. You still see the glimmer in their gaze though. Something like elation. No one approved of you the first week, but now they’re curious. They wonder about you picking fights with both Chan and Minho. Will you be a courageous and fierce Lead Huntress? Or are you simply as dumb as a post for continuously angering two of their most dangerous Betas?

The pack doesn’t know yet, but this whole mess is bound to get interesting. 

You don’t see anyone in the East Wing on your way to your room. As soon as you enter, you begin to wash off the traces of your long training day. Exhausted, you nearly miss the soft thumping on your door when someone knocks. Fighting back your smile, you hurry to change your dark shirt-gown for a clean nightgown. No doubt that this is Chan finally coming back and... For some reason, it is a relief. You’re oddly excited to tell him all about your progress. Unfortunately, one thing is sure as you open the door, that visitor is nothing like who you were expecting.

The newcomer is wearing all-black, special silky clothes, he’s one with the obscurity. Even with your perfect night vision, you can hardly distinguish his silhouette. There’s a mask from the same fabric covering up his entire face except for his sanguine eyes. No wonder you haven't heard him coming by, no wolf would be as quiet in their own quarters. Your mouth opens in shock as the undead gazes up and down at you. He’s lean and short, barely as tall as you. The first time you faced a vampire you were too human to notice, but this time it hits you hard; his scent of death.

“Y/n?” He inquires, voice as uninterested as it gets. Before you can decide if you should scream or reply, the ominous intruder tilts his head, perceivably. “It stinks of him in here, so I guess you're her.” His eyes skim over your body once more, severe. “The king has called upon you.”

“E-Excuse me?” 

“The vampire king.” He repeats, accentuating every syllable like you’re dumb. “Now.” 

“What if I don’t go?”

You cross your arms over your chest defiantly. Jaebeom has ignored you for days, what can he possibly have to say to you? You’re changing tomorrow, you don’t have to be at his beck and call, your deal was a one-time thing. You’ve moved on. The vampire snorts at your reply, apparently entertained. 

In an instant, you’re gagged and thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He’s indifferent as you struggle, kicking and biting. Without having turned and reached your full potential yet, you’re no match for his strength. Your captor moves fast, it takes him under a minute to cross the entire Castrum. It’s evident he isn’t taking you to the West living quarters you've been to before. Right before these stairs, he forks in a secret passageway, entering a dark corridor you are unfamiliar with. When he finally stops, you’re buried under the castle, so deep within, that you can’t even hear what’s going on upstairs anymore. If you were to cry or yell, you bet no wolf would hear. You're not entirely sure they'd come to your rescue anyway... The vampire tosses you on your feet, taking out the cloth he shoved in your mouth. As you're coughing for air, he knocks on a door that opens instantly.

“Mark,” Jaebeom’s eyes go from you to his scion, "Were you seen?" You haven’t looked at him yet, too busy glaring and growling at the second rude vampire. Mark. No wonder your fellow wolves don’t like them if they all act like such entitled assholes.

“It was boring and too easy. Even a newborn would've been able to get her, you didn't need a Shadow, Jeonha.” Mark’s words drip self-importance, making your skin crawl. Speaking, he pulls down his mask, revealing his diaphanous features. He is just as inhumanly perfect as the other undead you've seen so far. "Although, I think I vexed your pet..."

It takes you half a second to realize he's talking about you.

“I’m not his, you filthy leech!” 

“Oi, are you gonna bite me!?” The bloodsucker laughs, reaching to poke the middle of your forehead. You must be a fast learner because your current warning growl has nothing to do with how you were begging for your life when you first met one of them. If you don’t notice the slight change, Jaebeom certainly does. “Bad pooch.” Ok. That asshole is just straight-up asking to be gutted.

“Just wait a few days...” Your eyes reflect the torches, casting a supernatural light on the scene. “I’ll add your name to my list of priorities, Mark.” His smile turns to a thin line.

“Leave us,” done, the king dismisses his minion, "discreetly." Though he’s obviously annoyed, Mark obeys, hissing as he slowly walks back the narrow passageway. You don’t stop holding his glare until he’s gone. “What was that,” Jaebeom presses once you are alone, highly annoyed, “are the moon mood swings really that bad?”

“Perhaps I just hate being treated like a possession.” When you turn to face the king, he has already disappeared into a close dim-lit room. You ponder on whether to go back upstairs or follow, hesitating. In the end, you’re too intrigued to do what’s best and you enter, though keeping your guard up. 

You haven’t seen Jaebeom since your first and last night, and you had forgotten how beautiful he is up close. From his pellucid skin to his bloody dead irides. You feel a betraying shiver run down your back, remembering how his body felt all over yours. If you thought you could face him without any second thoughts, you were wrong. The hypnotic power he seemed to have on you hasn’t wavered the slightest. You could still run, but curiosity anchors you down.

When you enter, the vampire king is standing in the middle of this tiny darkroom, ominous. There’s a chair and a twin size bed in a corner as only furniture, and it smells of mould. Obviously, this isn’t his usual hang out spot. This is a misery chamber, you expected a secret office or something. This is closer to a dungeon than... Oh, turning to take another look at the door again, you notice the large silvery bars on a square framed window. 

“What is this place?” Feeling stuffy and trapped all of a sudden, you take a step back.

“My dungeon, a secluded place. I thought it better to talk privately.” Jaebeom replies swiftly, like forcing you down here is perfectly mundane. His motives remain unclear, but you get what he means; walls here don't have ears. You already noted that. “We used it during the war, but I doubt Jackson remembers his old room and my leniency. If he did, that flea-bag wouldn’t go around doing as he pleases half as much.”

“He's my Alpha now, careful.” You cross your arms over your chest and he raises a brow. 

“Forgive me,” Jaebeom apologizes, overly sarcastic, “I thought you only had his tail-wagger’ back.” 

“Chan is a legacy Alpha,” you’re defensive at his evident disdain. “Won’t be tail-waggin’ forever.”

“Why do you care?!” Jaebeom snaps harshly, and his aggressive tone makes you flinch, “Defending him? Last I heard, you hated the dog for what he did to you!”

After that, you remain silent, too stunned. He is right, and you are still angry at Chan for taking your humanity. It’s just that… You've always cared deeply for him, and now whatever is said about him reflects on you. You’ve been inextricably linked since he marked you. It’s not something you can explain with words to an outsider. You just… Feel it in your bones. Jaebeom sighs, turning to press his open palms to one of the stone walls. “When you’re as old as me, you start to forget past enemies. I’ve seen a lot of werewolves go by, I never thought I should care about their bastards.” When you don't bite, the king presses you again: “I hadn’t made a mistake like that in many centuries.”

“A mistake like me,” you breathe out hollowly, starting to piece things together. 

“Yes...” He shakes his head, still facing the wall. “I messed up by intervening in the woods. I single-handedly jeopardized the status of the peace treaty for you. Jinyoung formally castigated me in front of the Council.” The vampire from that night? You frown, vaguely remembering his cool demeanour throughout the confrontation with the Alpha. “I was sent away during the arraignments. I’ll be officially sanctioned tomorrow, I had never received blame from my Court before you. Not it over a thousand years of reign.”

He says it like this mess is all your fault. “Maybe you shouldn’t be talking to me, then.” You try not to sound affected. Despite you, his words hurt... And you really don’t want to wonder about why right now.

“I wanted to apologize,” Jaebeom blurts out fatally, turning to hold your gaze. “I wasn’t able to bring you home. I couldn't stay true to my word, and keep you safe.” 

“Consider yourself freed from our deal, Jeonha.” 

You need to leave now.

Before you’re overwhelmed before you feel like crying for everything you’ve lost. It’s not like the vampire could have changed anything anyway, or if he could have honoured that deal in the first place anyway. Apparently, a choice was made for you long before that dreadful day you were marked. When you reach for the exit, Jaebeom’s steel grip wraps around your wrists, holding you still. It was the worst idea coming in, perhaps he won’t let you leave. This was a dungeon for a wolf, and no one knows you're here. 

“There’s another thing too.” He whispers, awfully closer. There’s the almost familiar coldness of his body on your back, and your heartbeat quickens, betraying. His effect is undeniable, his magnetism paralyzing. “I don’t care about what my Court said. I still wanted to see you.” His nose brushes your hair, and you know it’s making its way down to your neck. You’ve been there before, only this time, you are sure he won’t kill you. “You smell the same, you’re still more human than wolf.” 

Jaebeom says this like it’s a compliment, and you shut your eyes. “So what?”

He presses his stone chest to your back, unbothered by your harsh tone. “My Shadow heard you ask about me… And I tried to neglect it, but I still have this…” He pauses then, and despite everything, the memory of your shared night haunts you. “... Craving.” 

Blood, you realize. This is not about you at all. Defeated, you pull your hair aside to fully expose the little bit of collarbone your nightgown isn’t covering. He can do whatever, you won’t fight him this time, don't care if it hurts. Then he’ll probably let you go. Jaebeom lets his index run down your spine, and you clench your teeth, expecting his bite any moment.

“After you turn-.”

“I know.” You cut in sharply, eager to get this over with. His arm slides around your waist. “You hate dogs.” The vampire presses his lips on your neck, not on the same spot as last time. Again, instead of biting, he breathes you in, mouth wandering. This isn’t what you want, you shouldn’t do this. “Drink.” Frozen still, you don’t bother trying to sound like yourself.

“No,” Jaebeom hushes in your ear, absolutely shameless, “like last time.”

“I don’t want to,” you state, authoritative. The idea of betraying Chan like this makes your stomach turn. Even if you are angry, he’s still your friend and your… That. Then, there’s the rest of the pack too, and what they said about wolves with vampires. What Minho called you earlier.

“Is that so?” Jaebeom snorts, hand reaching to cup your sex over your nightgown. You catch a breath as he hums, satisfied by your reaction. “I can smell you.” Shit. You’re screwed. Already, your body is betraying you, and you press closer to his palm, craving friction. His hand doesn’t oblige though. Instead, he takes it back, letting it wander up until it finds the strings tying the collar of your long gown. You think he’ll open it, but he surprises you by spinning you in his arms. His grip closes on your wrists, holding them up. “You wear his clothes, but his scent isn't on you.” 

You don’t need Jaebeom to say his name. “He comes back tomorrow.”

Something in his gaze darkens like you’ve made a mistake: “I know, I approve every dogs’ outing. Mark was right, he shouldn’t have made it so easy.” Smirking, Jaebeom releases you, apparently very amused by something. “Now that I know who you are for Jackson’s successor… I want you even more.”

‘W-What?” You don’t move, don’t even blink when his fingers slide up the interior of your thigh. This time, it’s skin to skin, under your loose clothing. He stops centimetres away from where your legs meet. “We can’t… My pack-”

Lowering himself to press a kiss on your lips, Jaebeom interrupts your protests. He doesn’t give you an answer, but you forget about everything as soon as his mouth opens yours. Your mind numbs. You forget you’re angry, forget the pack and everything about who the creature kissing you is. Even Chan is eclipsed from your thoughts for the first time in days. Jaebeom pulls back after a while, one hand to the wall and the other frozen still on your thigh.

“New deal,” he announces, voice-controlled. He’s doing way better than you. You're panting, hanging on his every word with apprehension. He's like a drug, clogging up your brain and stealing away your better judgement. “You owe me since I got into trouble trying to help you.”

“How should I repay you?” You ask in a trance. You sound more innocent than you truly are. It’s obvious what he wants, of course you know. You can feel him already hardening against you. Right now, you want him too. You don’t care about anything else.

“I forgot I have to show you everything, tidbit.” Jaebeom smiles, ruby eyes creasing. “Don’t move.” It’s not like you were planning on going anywhere anymore. You’re already too turned on to know what’s best. Sensing you’re obeying, Jaebeom kneels on the ground before you to roll up your gown. “See?” He looks up, pushing your feet apart with his knees. You seem to have learned from your first time because you don’t move to cover your sex. Jaebeom licks his lips, gaze roaming your exposed body hungrily. “I knew you were wet...”

His cold hands grip your knees to spread you and you lean back against the stone wall, weak. He hums, nose brushing your inner thighs. The vampire king kisses them one by one, making sure not to leave an inch of soft sensitive skin untouched as he climbs. If he claimed you were wet before, it was nothing. This time you know what to expect from him and you’re shivering from anticipation. Your folds are already swollen and glistening when he finally reaches his goal. Jaebeom doesn’t lose any time, icy tongue sliding up your slit once, then twice. You grip his shoulders to remain still and he lets out a hollow chuckle, entertained. His mouth works wonder, it’s even better standing like that above him. You pant, hips rocking on his face despite yourself. You don’t have any self-control whatsoever. You aren’t sure if it’s because of the imminent Full Moon or your exacerbate senses, but everything feels more intense; anger, impatience, and now pleasure, desire… Jaebeom helps himself with a finger, and it’s way more comfortable than last time. You’re so relaxed that he adds another one, pumping them leisurely into you.

Without stopping, he sits back on his heels, raising your right leg on his shoulder. Jaebeom presses kisses in your inner thigh, looking for something that he finds almost too soon. Unlike the other night, there’s no warning or build up before he bites you. His flaming eyes find yours when his fangs pierce your skin, and you yelp in surprise. Already blood drips, overflowing his mouth. Jaebeom sucks – entranced – he wasn’t too harsh this time. He cannot heal you with vampire blood, not when you’re lycanth. His fingers are still working your core, and the pleasure mixed with the burn is far from unpleasant. Your head hits the wall when you throw it back, pushing for more friction against his hand. He holds you still, sucking harsher on your thigh. His first bite is so shallow that your flow to the wound is already dwindling.

After a moment he gives up, he wants and needs more, but there are plenty of pretty veins on your body. Some are easier to conceal than others though that’s not what he wants at all. Not tonight. Not when you belong to the next Alpha. Jaebeom wants a statement, one that ensures the balance, retribution. The king hates being ridiculed, and they are far worst ways to send a message than this. At least you’re both going to enjoy yourselves tonight. He’ll make sure you get off, just like last time.

You don’t know that of course, but even then, could you have resisted him?

It’s your turn to take the lead when Jaebeom stops drinking from your thigh. You tug at his nape, forcing him up and interrupting his lapping of your wound.  This time, you don’t mind the blood when your mouths meet.

Your new kiss tastes of metal, but it’s delicious.

Wild.

____

The East Wing is deserted when you emerge from the depth of the Castrum. It’s to be expected, to limit interactions between species and risk useless frictions, they are many specific rules. Werewolves aren’t allowed outside their sanctuary walls after sunset unless they have special permissions, so they usually limit themselves to their rooms. One night of freedom per month is granted of course; the Full Moon. No similar rule applies to vampires. It might seem unfair, but most can’t stand the sun and normally rest during the day anyway. So, it’s no surprise that you don’t bump into any other lycanth when you enter the common room and climb the stone stairs leading to the living quarters. Everyone is in bed, getting ready for tomorrow’s night hunt and celebrations of your first transformation. 

Still, you are extra careful not to get caught when walking up the corridor, passing dozens of wooden doors along the way. You can hear the soft breathing of the sleeping wolves, but also the cracking pages of a book being read, and the scratching of graphite on paper. You furtively reach the door to your room, opening it and praying the hinges don’t betray you. They don’t. 

Letting out a breath of relief, you enter. You allow yourself to make more noise once you are where you were assumed to be all along. Immediately, you stretch your sore body. Wow. That was something else entirely. You hadn’t realized Jaebeom was being so attentive on your first night. This time he was less considerate, not that you’re complaining. Smiling, you rub your thumb on the bite marks on your left wrist. You have many, you’ll have to conceal all of them tomorrow by wearing something like a long-sleeve linen shirt and pants. 

You are so lost in your thoughts that you don’t notice the mass on your bed at all. It’s when he sits up that you gasp, so shocked you drop the hairbrush you had just picked up on the carpet. It bounces twice before rolling on the stone floor, the faint sounds seemingly resonating throughout the whole wing. Chan looks half-dead, as though he hasn’t slept ever since he last fought with you. 

“Hello,” he says, voice alarmingly placid.

You feel yourself crumble under the weight of his gaze. “You’re back.”

He drops his chin to his chest like a prayer. “I came early since I was worried...” His words hit hard, and you feel the bitter sting of guilt in your chest. Somehow you spent the whole week waiting for his return... Now it’s too late, you messed up. “I missed you,” the wolf-man snorts, rolling his eyes back, “so much. I kept wondering how you were holding up without me. Laughable isn’t I?” When he looks your way again, the bite marks on your body itch like liabilities. “You seem to be doing perfectly fine.”

“Chan,” you breathe out unevenly, heart as heavy as the moon in your chest. Whatever bliss you felt from your escapade with Jaebeom is completely gone. This is why you tried to leave. It feels like you committed high treason. Perhaps you truly did, that's the scariest thought. You should tell him you didn't go to Jaebeom willingly, it just happened. Tell him you hadn’t thought of the king for days. Instead, you let out a series of incoherence; “It’s not… I’m-”

“You smell of death.” He points out, weirdly serene. You both know it means him. “I’m exhausted, y/n. Let’s not fight, let's just go to bed.”

“H-Here?” Your eyes round, staring at him under the covers.

“It’s our den, our bed.” Chan lays down again. “You can sleep elsewhere if you can’t stand me... You seem to have other options.”

Silence settles after that, you walk up to the empty side of the canopy bed, miserable. How could you leave, even if you wanted to? The mattress protests under your weight. Sitting guardedly, you keep an eye on the young man with his back turned on you. Chan doesn’t comment and as you lay over the covers. Your heartbeat is deafening. 

You are so taken aback when he breaks his muteness after over ten minutes, that you wonder if you heard right; “I don’t want us to be like them.” 

“Who?” You ask, turning on your side to face him. 

“Them,” he repeats as though you are supposed to figure it out. He rolls too, but his eyes remain glued to the ceiling.

This whole situation is strangely reminiscent of these nights you talked for hours, both laying on your back, staring at stars. You often went on trips together with a hunting crew from Ianua and other villages. You and Chan used to discuss anything from your childhoods to dumb stuff. Of course, back then, you had no idea he was way older than he looked, perhaps even older than gran. You had no idea he wasn’t human at all. Come to think of it, you wonder how he managed all these trips and why. Was it just to be with you? Does ‘deceive your future mate under the false pretense of friendship’ qualify for outings permissions?

“Them; Jackson and Ryujin.” You stop your breathing altogether when Chan clarifies. Ryujin, as in the queen? Shit. You had forgotten all about her... “Lycanth, we are loyal to a fault, devoted by nature. We…” He glances your way, having at least the decency of being embarrassed by himself. “... Mate for life… With our one partner.” 

But you aren’t listening to him. Your head is spinning, Jackson and Ryujin. What do they have to do with each other? Isn’t she wedded to Jaebeom? Although it’s quite obvious his vows don’t keep him from sleeping with whoever he wants, whenever. 

Any of you take issues of my personal life? The Alpha and Minho’s cryptic words suddenly mean much more. Jackson has a mate, trust me.

“The parasites are nothing like us.” Chan goes on as you piece things together, sounding spiteful. “They take what they covet without hesitation, they use others for their means. They are ruth-”

“I get it.” You interrupt, fighting back your irritation. Ok, now you are done feeling bad for him. No one ever explains things to you clearly in this damn castle. You’re always expected to do what is asked and understand things later on. “You hate vampires.”

“No. You don’t get it, you aren't hearing me y/n.” Chan sighs and the sound is cavernous deep. He turns to you, serious. “Vampires don’t feel like mortals or werewolves. You can’t trust him, no matter how much intimacy you share, it doesn-”

“I understand that you like me, Chan.” You’re careful not to raise your voice when you cut him off again. The last thing you want is this to escalate in another full-on fight. “And I am so sorry you feel that way, but...” You stop yourself, reading the pain on his face.

“It is my business because you’re my m-... Best friend...” He whispers, winded as though he ran for miles. “You are bitter – rightfully so – and you need time… But I’m not gonna spend my whole life picking up the pieces after him. I won’t stand sharing you. I don’t want us to be like them, I can’t.”

Though you soften slightly, you turn away to avoid his gaze. You should tell Chan that you don’t think of Jaebeom half as much as you think of him when he isn’t near, but you can’t. You’re too ashamed and resentful, both at yourself and at him. 

“Maybe you should have considered that before changing me.” It sounds too mean even to you. “You knew me, so you should’ve made the right choice.” 

Again, the silence following is louder than words. It takes Chan less time to cut through the tension. When he does, you can tell he's been thinking deeply about this.

“I did consider...” He waits for a few heartbeats before going on, hopeful; “I know you and I’ll wait. I know us, I made the right choice. I’m sorry I brought this up.” Chan sounds so relieved that you can’t help wanting to believe him. “We will never be like them...” There's an infallible faith to his truth.

Even though you’re exhausted, even though tomorrow marks the beginning of your new life. You don’t sleep a wink that night, torn between two fates you neither wanted nor considered before these last two weeks.

Nocturna Masterlist | HALLOWEEN

[thatk9panda]

King Koopa x F!OC (Chocolate Pie)

Junior and his 7 siblings were having a lazy Sunny day in the Castle's main room just off the Boarder-line of the Mushroom Kingdom, that their Father has yet to claim for the true inhabitants of the land, the Goombas from his once Romantic target, Princess "Peach" Toadstool. Junior sometimes forgets that his Dad was trying so hard to make her his new Mom since he was younger, but now having a mind of a curious child, Junior cringes at his actions, it's so embarrassing but things have changed now. His dad, King "Bowser" Koopa has changed, he no longer fights for the land for the Goobas that begged him to get back because he is the sole only being powerful enough; a falsehood. Time and time again, Bowser fails his missions by Mario "Jump-man" Mario at every turn. Junior sets down his stuffed toy in the shape of a comically detailed bomb with an irate expression as if ready to explode at any bated breath. Stepping out into the all decorated corridor Junior hears his Father's booming voice. "Junior! Do get your Mother for me, Son. She's oversleeping again." Bowser was leaving the kitchen holding a giant pie in his scales. No doubt to Junior his Dad is having Dessert for lunch. "OK, Dad." Junior jogged the carpet steps of his home to his parents' bedroom. Yes, Peach isn't his mom but that's OK. She's still great! After a few minutes of walking and jogging to save time, Junior arrives a tad bit breathless, his excitement to see his mom pushed him to sprint down the hallway. The door to the room was away from others 'close-by' and detailed with rubies and golden frames, his Dad once had a simpler door but upon her arrival, he ordered something Mario wouldn't be able to get through so easily, Window was out of the question, coming in from it just led you to a different part of the castle altogether at random even if you see her from it. Junior can't figure out if his Dad forgot to change it or the two agreed to keep because it was set up all nice. The door remains unlocked without caution, The room was darkly lit, a few candles lines the walls on all four walls, half of it burns to keep the room total darkness has the thick curtain blocked the open stone window. Junior tip-toes on his claws to avoid being noisy has he approaches the bed in the center of the room against the parallel wall of the entrance. Thick blankets nearly cover the tiny human woman under it, nearly, her hair was spread through the white pillow in contrast to her golden pink thick curls. He pokes what he assumes is her shoulder, his action repeats in a motion of swaying her back and having her body maneuver back to its original position. "Mom, wake up. Dad says you're sleeping the day away." "Nooo... So comfy." The woman groans as she buries herself deeper into the warm covers she longs to connect with. "Mom." Junior deadpanned calls. His expression was a look of mild annoyance but a sneaky plan formed in his mind last second. "Dad's eating your chocolate-chip pie." Silence. "Can I have a minute, Junior?" She made no action to move yet her voice sounded much wider awake, Junior left the room, closing the door behind him and made his way downstairs, she'll catch up. Junior hears the door open and quickly close and outcomes running is his Dad's wife and his and his siblings' Mom, Averie. All of her custom dresses were simple and breezy, King Bowser finally gave him on her outfits, she seems happy to wear something loose and flexible, Averie told him that Bowser used to think that she would sneak away at night but having on such restricting garments would make escaping difficult for her unless she stripped down and that would be obvious of her actions but now the two have reached that step of trust. He's so proud of his Dad. "Where is your father?" Averie stumps for off in her heels strapped at her ankles for grip. "Outside in the Garden!" Averie took off in a marathon, the servants and occupations continue on with their day, not a one-bit concern for the heavy footsteps fast approaching and quickly fleeting away. The castle sure is lively now more than over, they wonder why it wasn't like that before, why did a human girl from a different world have to come and make that change? The desire for the answer didn't linger long before everyone 's mind went elsewhere. Junior arrives downstairs towards the front entrance of the Castle, he opens the door just as Averie's voice rang through the green grounds of the Garden growing off the side of the Castle. "Bowser! Where's my pie?!" Heavy, Very Heavy footsteps shake the grounds as he can barely see his Father fleeing deeper inside the Maze of roses. Averie quickly finds him, the stomps end. King Bowser has just finished savoring the pie he has taken from the kitchen, oh his wife- tasty pie, good pie. He loves her chocolate-chip pies the best, no question. Too bad he's going to get into trouble for not sharing it like it was intended for and she slaved so hard in the kitchen the night before to prepare it just right, he would felt guilty if it weren't worth eating. Maybe he can try recreating it so he'll be in less trouble. "BOWSER!" His flaming red eyebrows nearly extend off his face, his spine stiffens as he hears the voice he loves so much scream his name in bloody-murder. And today I die She was approaching closer, Bowser didn't consider hiding deeper inside the Maze, but he didn't feel he needed to, he was sure he had time to even hide the evidence... unless. Junior's snark smirk filled his thought bubble. Traitor! He told her! He took off, leaving the empty crumble foil pan on deserted on the ground. Averie is fast approaching now. He can feel her presence climbing his spiked shell. Here it comes. Having been romantic with her for awhile Bowser has come to where rope around his shell so she'll have something grab, especially since his arms are far much wider for her to grab. She stepped on his tail as leverage and roped her way up to his shoulder, Bowser was too big for the tight space and not all that fast compared to his wife. He falls on his stomach, defeated as she grips his horns in victory, he looks to the side of his eye to see she one again isn't dressed like a Queen of the Koopas, having natural bed head curls crown her face, skin clear of the drool that always cakes the side of her lip and eyes for reasons only he knows, yet she stands as graceful as a Goddess, Bowser has never witness beauty such as this and he prays he is the only lucky man to see all of it. "Bowser, you ate the pie! I made that today's dinner with the Princess!" She pouts as she leans close, her frame blocks the sun from him, darkening his sights as he glances up, he cares not for eating that Delicious pie but the upset tone she uses telling him he done wrong, twist his stomach. She remains on top of him, legs on either side of his shoulders as if to keep him pin but he and her as well as everyone knows that's impossible but he plays submission from time to time to make her feel better. Her fragrance, he finally inhales when the pie's smell faze from his nostrils. Her scent is hers and his, such an intoxicating aroma. He grows excited, no! Bad! Not now, Now you're in trouble. "I'm sorry, My Love but you know how weak I am to your desserts." He uses play on words. "No! That's not okay, you know how hard I worked on it and how I was gonna show off, why didn't you just eat the other ones? I made your favorite Cinnamon Peach, knowing you were gonna try something like this." She pulls at his horns as 'punishment' poor girl, she's only digging herself in deeper. "I didn't see it." He lied. True, Cinnamon Peach pie was his favorite, he had Peach's name in it and Bowser order Averie to bake it for him whenever he failed his mission, which was nearly every other day. Dark days indeed, how she would work for hours, sleep rarely and looked like a piece of trash took form. How he hates the old him for treating her like he did. His desire for Peach nearly cost him a Happy Ending but that all changed when she intentionally went against his wishes of another pie to the Chocolate-chip that fell in love with, it was also her favorite as well. "Liar." Call out. Her face gets closer. She stares down to his huge yellow lips before meeting his eyes again. "Stop lying." "Okay" "Don't say Okay then do it again." "Okay" "Bowser!" King Koopa, reaches an arm, gripping her ankle and pulling her under him. She doesn't fight it, he always reclaims his position as 'Top' when he feels she had enough of being Bossy to the King. She folds her arms under her chest, prepping them up with a squeeze. "Over it yet?" He asks, voice powerful and in control. No response, she moves her head to the side with a huff. Bad move. Bowser has grown to love the fight she puts up. It was different and unique. He opens his fangs and gently nip the skin of the meeting of her shoulder and neck, she shivers at the pleasant love bite, she relaxes her arms, positioning herself in a much comfortable; Legs spread apart in a loose spread out pose, her arms bend over her head to wrap his biceps keeping his upper body from crushing her. He pulls himself closer to the ground to nip her again, she shivers at the contact. This tiny woman, that hasn't cringe at his touch and advances just so willingly complies to his love. He really did miss this chance. He hasn't taken much thought to why. He was just longing for a woman in his and his children's lives, that why she would ever never crossed him, even as the two make sneaky love making out in the open of the garden. He can't figure out where this passion came from. He never had these feelings for Peach, of course, he wanted her, he loved her but this activity has never crossed him when he thought of her. Enough comparing the two, there's only one and she's lying under me right now. The Queen and King receive and gives each other a longing kiss in the middle of a Hot day, luckily Bower's huge form shadows hers from the impossible heat. She pulls away, always the one to be out of breath first, she pushes at his chest to separate the two. "Okay, I forgive you, Now let's go back inside. I have to remake a pie." She suggests. After all this, Bowser had other plans. "Not right now. You have something to take care of first." He states out lustfully to his beautiful and submissive Queen.

[cyrusharper]

twinkle

if god and the devil, allah, the fates with their gossamer red strings that stretched the lives of men beyond their mortal eyes, should ever deign cyrus harper worthy of the choice of where to spend however many years he has left on this earth, he thinks he might very well pick this very spot.

underneath the blanket of the summer stars, aboard the boat that he and roimata had dedicated three entire summers to repairing, with the man—his best friend, his very own personal polaris fallen into the sea and given form, by his side.

“it is not that life ashore is distasteful to me.” sir francis drake had once written, cyrus had once read and then declared to his mama, with puffed out chest and the wistful glance of a seasoned theater actor towards the sea that beat placidly against the kentish coast. “but life at sea is better.”

neither of them have really felt the need to speak, since they’d pushed off from shore—they both speak the language of waves as a native tongue, and they both know that the language of the sea is more eloquent than the words they’ve been clumsy with since they were children, growing towards each other like saplings in two opposite sides of the earth. and while the silence sits comfortable and warm like the summer breeze that carries them, it has also left him with little to do than obsessively document the parts of the boat with his eyes, or to let them find their way like the needle of a compass to his companion.

its not the first time he’s considered the idea that roimata might be attractive.

he has eyes—always has, and it’s difficult to deny the evidence, like the known continents that do not move or drift on the surface of the map. he is tall, sits against the backdrop of the night sky like the imposing spar of an old exploration vessel. he smiles in an easy way that has always left cyrus feeling like a sail unfurling against a sudden strong wind, and as he pulls on the ropes and guides the boat underneath their feet with ease, it’s difficult for cyrus to tear his eyes away from the way the muscles in his arms move underneath the thin layer of skin.

has he always wanted to feel that movement underneath the palm of his hand?

did Jason board the argo and wonder if the fire that burned with in him was the divine need to take his ship over the borders of the known world, or the divine certainty that it should have been his beloved theseus next to him?

does it matter?

he comes to stand next to roi on the starboard side, where the man has momentarily paused his flurry of activity to gaze at the heavens above them. the moon, the stars, the not quite black sky—they all cast him in a pearlescent glow.

“I’ve never understood the insistence on adhering to the grecian constellations.” he says quietly, because he is bravest when he is hiding behind the words of others, when he is easily lost inside the larger context of landscape. he grins as he comes to stand on the edge, clutching the same rope as he points to a particular cluster of stars. “see the dog right there? in romania they call that the mastiff. over there,” he moves his hand again as though he could command the sky like an astrolabe. “mama says in iran they call orion the giant.”

a giant made from the stuff of stars to blaze above the inhospitable desert, the only love of the cold virgin goddess flung into the heavens, or perhaps like the inuit people liked to it, two stars placed far apart--somehow roimata has always been all of these things.

he meets roi’s gaze, feels color rise to his cheeks even in the dark. the other man doesn’t answer any of cyrus’s information—he never does—he just smiles, nods his head as though he can’t believe cyrus manages to keep every aspect of the world he has devoted himself to contained within the fragile frame of his own bones. when they were younger, before cyrus learned to negotiate the teeth of the hungry thing that made its home in the pit of his stomach, his gaze had always been elsewhere—there had always been the line of the horizon to taunt him, the promise of more, more, more singing in the air like the song of a siren.

now, he looks back.

and jason, francis drake, the explorer who has not yet made his name, looked across the deck and saw his best friend standing with his face towards the sea--and he loved them both without ever having to speak the words, did he not? He had not been able to name such things because they were one in the same, two sides of a gleaming spanish dubloon dredged up from the depths of a wreckage, two points of light attached by an invisible line in the summer sky.

cyrus misses roi’s response entirely, and so silence falls between them again. only this time, cyrus does not allow it to settle--for it is better to have the remains of love, the bright dust and particles of it strewn across the sky in stars, than to be forever memorialized as two stars far apart. for it is better by far for the explorer to seize upon bravery when he feels it materialize in the marrow of the bones of his spine, than to drink it down like bitter seawater.

“do you remember, that summer after you first arrived?” he smiles, tries to mirror the same gentle expression he had caught on the face before him. it’s easier, in practice, than he had ever thought it would be. “we hauled this thing to my parents garage, because tamati wouldn’t let you keep it at yours--it was barely a frame then.”

he digs a fingernail into the surface of the wood gently, picking at some of the flaking paint they’d spent hours applying in careful strokes--only to end up with as much of it on themselves as on the surface they were meant to be coloring. “we nicked the gin from my dad’s stash, ended up wasted because neither of us knew yet that we couldn’t hold it worth shit.”

he takes a tentative step closer, moves his hand down the length of the line so that their hands are close enough to feel heat, but not yet touching. roi looks up at him, and cyrus is struck with that feeling again--white canvas spreading like birds wings, a sudden gaining of speed. “are we really going to talk about it? if you don’t want--”

cyrus interrupts him, moves his hand down the line the final few centimeters so that while roimata clutches the rope, cyrus clutches his hand. “i kissed you--i really wanted to, and i didn’t know why. thought it might have been the gin getting to me, maybe i was just realizing that i liked blokes as well as girls and projecting on you.”

roi raises an eyebrow, but does not move. like orion, like theseus, like the line between the two stars, he stands firm. “mate, what are you getting at? it’s something that happened years ago, that we never talked about. why are you bringing it up now?”

cyrus spares one last glance at orion, at the giant, at the two stars of his arm forever pulling apart from one another, before he presses his mouth against roi’s. thinking back on it later, he’ll wish it had been more of a gentle thing, something that spoke more than words ever could have about how much the other man meant to him--but in the moment it seems fitting. cyrus harper has never been a gentle creature--heroes, explorers, restless hearts like the one that beats like a war-drum inside of his chest, aren’t tender creatures by nature.

besides, he thinks as he pulls away after a small eternity has passed, after the earth has rotated to come back to the same place they began. he has time to figure it out, to put names to the new configurations of bodies and stardust and blue velvet night sky--the only thing that matters is the way that roi laughs, the way that he pulls cyrus from his position of standing on the railing of the boat into his arms to try again. and again, and again, and again.

“great things,” sir francis drake had once wrote, and cyrus harper will soon repeat against the lips of his best friend, the two of them firmly tangled in sheets, the window of cyrus’s apartment thrown open to let the summer breeze lazily filter through the room, send chills down bare flesh. “have small beginnings.”

[newagesispage]

                                                                            JUNE    2020

PAGE RIB

FX and Ryan Murphy will bring us season 10 of American Horror Story next year. The cast includes Mac Culkin, Kathy Bates, Sarah Paulson, Evan peters, Billie Lourd, Lily Rabe and Finn Wittrock. There will also be a spinoff called, wait for it, American Horror Stories. Woo Hoo!!

*****

Reno 911 is back

*****

I happen to have a clementine in my butt. –Jimmy Kimmel

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NASA got their dragon launch. It is unfortunate that they had to compete with the current cycle.

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Sam Springsteen (son of Patti and Bruce) has been sworn in as a Jersey City firefighter.

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Ryan Murphy’s Hollywood is great. I don’t know how to feel about the fast and the loose and the nice made up endings like Once upon a time in Hollywood.  Will this be a trend??** Another great one on Netflix is, Have a good trip.

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Are there biopics in the works for Michael and Janet Jackson, Whitney Houston, the Bee Gees and Bowie?? That is the word.

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Days alert: Look for Lani to become pregnant. Eli and Justin are both thinking marriage. Claire is back which will bring Shawn and Belle back. Gabi may be kidnapped. Word is that July will have a wedding every week that will lead to a funeral.  Allie Horton is all grown up and heading back with a secret. Will she be like Mom, Sami?? Brady thinks that ruining Titan will get back at Victor. Sonny and Will may get a chance at another child. Eve may be back later in the summer. And, C’mon Xander, do something wonderful to get your woman back. Lucas may be on the way back and Orpheus is leaving. ** Judi Evans (Adrienne) had a serious horseback riding accident on May 16. She had broken ribs, a collapsed lung and 2 chipped vertebrae. The good news was in the hospital they discovered a blood clot so the whole thing saved her life.

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Morton Buildings is being sued by 2 women for harassment and discrimination. One incident claims an employee said, “God created women by lining up all the men and castrating the stupid ones.” Another lawsuit was filed in 2009.**Thanks for the tip, Di.

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If you expect elementary school children to endure the trauma of active shooter drills for your freedoms, you can wear a mask to Costco. –Sara Elizabeth Dill

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House republicans have sued Pelosi to block proxy voting.

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Seth Rogan, Steve Carell and Ben Schwartz are donating funds to bailout Minneapolis protestors after the death of George Floyd.** The country has been turned upside down as another cop kills another black man. No need to rehash, we have all seen it. I wonder if those four horrible cops are proud of what they have done to their city. Could we finally have a tipping point in this time when racism is spotlighted with our racist President? After many incidents in just the past couple of weeks and everyone on edge with coronavirus, it has boiled over. Scary Clown threatens to start shooting as Minneapolis burns down. Burn down a police station, get a cop arrested (finally)? Seems worth it to me. The way the killer looked into the camera as if he was just so proud is gonna stick with us as it should.  ** A CNN crew were arrested live on the air but released later after Jeff Zucker spoke to Gov. Walz.**  Liberate Minnesota was the Trump tweet, well, they are working on it.** I am hearing people saying in all sincerity lately that it is time for the humans to go, we are ruining each other and the planet.

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If you have not seen the Killer Mike speech from Atlanta, you need to check it out.** Netflix, Hulu and Paramount are taking a stand and showing support for the Black lives matter movement.

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John Cusack put out video of police coming at him with batons and pepper sprayed him as he protested in Chicago. More than 1000 were arrested and it continues.** In Flint, Sheriff Chris Swanson and other police put down helmets and joined the protestors. Police in Schenectady took a knee and joined the march. The behavior is spreading and look what a difference it makes, could they be starting to get it?

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Never thought I’d say this but in light of everything that is happening, the DNC made a big mistake in not backing Berne Sanders. –Pete Buttigieg ** Ok, first, of course he is right but you helped set this all in motion. It is a bit late for that …or is it? Biden is not the OFFICIAL nom, the deal is not done yet. Will Bernie jump back in the race?? Perhaps we will soon see BERNE FOR PRESIDENT again.

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American carnage was a self -fulfilling prophecy, alas. –Susan Glasser

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Scary Clown 45 has designated Antifa a terrorist organization. ** There is no legal authority for designating a domestic group, any such designation would raise significant concerns. –ACLU

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In any season, police violence is an injustice, but its harm is elevated amidst the remarkable stress people are facing amidst covid-19. Even now, there is evidence of excessive police initiated force and unwarranted shootings of civilians, some of which have been fatal. –American Medical Association.

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Washington Week had a great discussion about how all the ills in US history have played out in 2020. Impeachment, pandemic, depression and civil unrest are all here at once.

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Word is that Trevor Noah has been proven much more popular than the other late night hosts since they have been at home.

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I predict the picture of the upside down flag with the backdrop of the burning liquor store will be the lasting image of the Trump Presidency.

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This is the Presidency George Wallace never had. –Max Boot

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Spanish flu, Polio, Aids, Covid-19: Why don’t people get any smarter? The masses (and sometimes those in charge) can get it wrong over and over again. From Dr.? Phil and Dr Oz and their cavalier attitude toward death to Rosie wanting her son to take a leave of absence from the grocery store, we just do not learn. Even before that, I can’t forget the woman who wanted to change her vote after she found out Buttigieg was married to a man. Is she even a dem? Do your research people! Respect others, people!! Have compassion, stop being so selfish and use your brains!!** Puerto Rico was a pre curser to the pandemic response.

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Amy Cooper Chris Cooper? WTF? Another liberal who is not really liberal.

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Crime in general is down and police shootings are up. And yes, now the opportunists are out of control and anger is boiling over but protests against police brutality causing police brutality is WRONG!

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Check out the book, What makes a marriage last, from Marlo Thomas and Phil Donahue.

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Ben Taub, Barry Blitt and Colson Whitehead have won the Pulitzer Prize.

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Word is that Nick Cage will play Joe Exotic of Tiger King fame. Of course he will.

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I refuse to wear a mask because God did not have us born with one.- Nino Vitali** How many people have you heard say, “The President isn’t wearing a mask, so I don’t have to.”

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It looks like Apple will partner with Paramount for Scorsese’s adaptation of Killers of the Flower Moon.

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Oh my: Scary Clown is having a twitter feud with twitter!  He has to, of course, lash out and now signs an executive order targeting social media. He is going on about section 230 which gives immunity to social media companies against being sued over content.  It could curb liability protection. Experts say it will only encourage lawsuits because he does not want to be edited.

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If Native American tribes were counted as states, the five most infected states in the US would all be native tribes. –Nicholas Kristof

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Did ya see that Jeff Epstein doc from James Patterson. It is lays blame in all directions. Why does it seem like all these old guys on there with all that money have such yellow teeth?

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Lindsey Graham is urging Federal judges in their mid to late 60’s to step down so they can fill the spots with republicans.

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Richard McGuire tried to live at Disney World in a zoological park that was closed down.

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Caterpillar, Levi, Black and Decker and others have cut jobs but gave millions to shareholders.

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Axl Rose and Steve Mnuchin had a twitter feud.

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China announced plans to introduce a National Security law in Hong Kong. The law enables mainland Chinese National security agencies to operate in the city for the first time. Using a rarely used constitutional method, they bypassed Hong Kong legislature. Since the former British colony became a semi-autonomous region of China more than 20 years ago, they have manages its own affairs. The law will affect media, education, politics and international business. Many acts will now be criminalized. Hong Kong is party to international treaties guaranteeing civil liberties that China is not. The U.S. is urging Bejing to reconsider. Pro- democracy demonstrators in Hong Kong were tear gassed as they yelled, “Liberate Hong Kong, revolution of our times.”

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The Michael Flynn charges were dropped.

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Holyoke soldier’s home in Massachusetts lost 70 souls to Coronavirus. AP photographer David Goldman got a projector and cast big pictures the vets onto the homes of loved ones. Each one had a story including one vet who was sent to Nuremberg to guard Nazis. He claimed to have filled Hermann Goring’s glass with toilet water.

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The swimming Dinosaur, Spinosaurus has been getting a lot of attention.  The Sahara desert which was once massive rivers kept the first intact aquatic dinosaur.  With a snout, teeth and jaw like a croc, it is so far the only known kind of dinosaur that lived in the water.  The 50 foot long bizarre fin-like tail is like a giant paddle.  Paleontologists encourage others to have a look at other fossils to see if there are more.

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Octavia Spencer is said to have been telling everyone she is a year younger than she is. She is turning 50.

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The $69 million ventilator scam. Really? The White House heard from a guy who told them he could supply the product so the WH told NY to order them and stood behind the guy but it was a scam. Scary Clown sure loves his shady people, intentional or not.** A Florida woman, Rebecca Jones claims that she was asked to fudge the numbers to make reopening look better. ** Georgia moved their dates around on a graph to make their cases seem flattened. ** For 17 months, Florida investigated voter fraud for Trump and Gov. Scott. They found NOTHING!!

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Amazon stock price is up 25% yet they have become notorious for the terrible way they treat their workers. Bezos is set to become a trillionaire.

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We have to remember that order comes from chaos. True enhancements can come from large scale crisis. What will we learn from this one? This is a warning!!** Universal health care? No more buffets? ** Prices will probably go up everywhere what with the closings and all the extra cleaning. I hope this means that hotel bedspreads will be cleaned after every stay.  It looks like there may be no cocktails or food on planes.

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Take a virtual tour of the statue of liberty. All the fun without all the swaying.

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Local PBS stations are making it easier to learn. Students will be able to put on a channel for lessons that does not need cable or internet. Woo Hoo!!

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Insiders say that Trump threatened to sue his campaign manager because he did not agree with his assessment and the poll numbers in a 2 day rant.** Just one more example of Scary Clown double talk. Then: Less testing, less positives. Now: So much testing is a badge of honor.**Doctors without Borders are now here, not the third world countries that they usually help, it is US.

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Haven’t we had enough of powerful men being accused? A female Dem candidate would have been nice and Bernie did not seem to have any baggage that way either.

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Will the Senate see fit to ok some more stimulus $? 4 trillion to prop up Wall Street seems per the usual. Enough for them, let’s take care of those small businesses and those really in need.

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Thao and the get down stay down is one of the best in this internet entertainment era.

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Check out Stars in the House with Tony Shalhoub and others.

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The Detectorists on Acorn TV is a great little show!!

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Happy Day! There is a new season of At Home with Amy Sedaris!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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It looks like Pier 1 will permanently close as well as JC Penney, J Crew, Sears and Neiman Marcus.

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Check out the wonderful, This is about Humanity!!

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Have U seen the trailer for The King of Staten Island?? OMG Pete Davidson, Steve Buschemi and Marisa Tomei , just to name a few!! I can’t fucking wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Bill Maher looked really high on his 5-22-20 show. This working from home makes him much more mellow!!

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3 Russian doctors treating coronavirus have fallen out of windows in about a weeks time.** Russia boasts that it has more ventilators per capita than the U.S. After they made fun of us, on May 22, the first shipment of U.S. ventilators headed to Russia. They are a gift from Trump and the U.S. taxpayers. –Julia Davis

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State Department Inspector General Steve Linick is out.  Was he investigating Pompeo?  Trump never knows anything about any of it. Why are all the protectors of the rule of law thrown out?  ** Was Pompeo throwing lavish foreign policy dinners with Reba, Dale Jr. and the owners of that horrid chicken sandwich place? ** The clean water rule has been suspended which cuts protections for most of the country’s wetlands.

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The market facilitation program has been helping small farmers over the last few years in a $28 billion bailout. Trump’s sanctions brought this on and the corona virus has made it worse.  Mostly the money has helped bankers and bigger farms. Much like the stimulus $ that was earmarked for small business, there are loopholes that screw up the ‘rules.’ The cap is not being followed like they may say because the $ is going to “investors” in the farm and often not the actual farmer who works on a smaller scale. A small farm run by family members may not get the bailout. It seems to be more important to get a good lawyer who can manipulate the paperwork.  Sad that taxpayer $ is used this way.

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Just in time, the Space Force flag and plans for the super duper missile have been unveiled. WTF??

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Paula Poundstone is a woman I knew I liked. She was recently talking about not liking couches. I thought I was the only one, People are always telling me how much they love their couches and I don’t get it.

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Jeff Gibbs and Michael Moore are upset after Youtube pulled their doc, Planet of the Humans. After 8.3 million views, there was a copyright claim by Toby Smith of about 4 seconds of footage.  Now , this is not the first time that Moore has had problems with content in one of his movies.  Many have claimed there is a lot of fiction in this latest venture. I think I would just remove the possible copyright infringement and move on. It can now be seen on Vimeo.

A Florida law that restricts felon voting is found unconstitutional by a federal judge.** The RNC filed a lawsuit against California to stop mailing ballots to registered voters.

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R.I.P. Little Richard, Roy Horn, Jerry Stiller, Sam Lloyd, Ann Sullivan, Mike Cogswell, Michael Keenan, Shirley Knight, Irrfan Khan, Hana Kimura, Forrest Compton, Jimmy Cobb, George Floyd, Ken Osmomd, all the corona victims, Lynn Shelton, Richard Herd, Larry Kramer, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, Anthony James, Fred Willard and Carolyn Busch.

[formerlyrunephoenix6769]

Winter and Weiss in concern to Whitley.

Over the last few days there has been a surge in Winter Schnee appreciation posts with regard to her sister, Weiss, and obv on the back of that there has been many negative comments about the Schneesters in regard to their younger sibling, Whitley. 

First, I wish to state.

In no way is Whitley a ‘bad guy’, but rather a young boy being a bit of a brat due to the rhetoric drummed into his head by their Father at their place in the world and Jacques Schnee’s world view in general. Coupling this with the neglect of his Mother. Of course the young man is going to be sour. 

And he is no different from the Weiss we first met back in Vol 1, who was also a bit of a brat. 

Whitley has so much potential to change and grow due to his tender age.

However, laying the blame at Winter’s and Weiss feet is hardly fair. 

I would like to direct you to @rwby-analysis​ “People forget..” post. and I would suggest reading it as they make very good points that I would just end up repeating here.

With concern to the perceived abandonment of Whitley by his older siblings, many factors have to be kept in mind.

1) AGE!

Winter is 23 at the start of Vol 1, recently graduated from Atlas as graduation is at 21/21.

Weiss is 17 at the start of vol 1, only recently left the safety of the Schnee mansion and all of its trappings, ie luxury and awful parents, and the comfort of Klein.

Whitley (and this is a huge guess) could be anywhere from 12 to as old as 14 by the time we finally meet him. Inclined to believe 14 due to his height compared to Weiss in heels. 

That puts nearly a decade between Winter and Whitley, and this is important.

Winter, leaving to attend Atlas at 17, meaning Whitley was 8. She was raised in a country and a household that prized themselves on active suppression of and not showing emotion, whilst suffering years of emotional abuse and neglect.

Winter more than likely began attendance at Atlas with a very limited skillset, ie fighting skill, figuring out the hereditary semblance and summoning by herself. 

 And that limited skill set is hardly something she could pass down to a 8 year old who had shown no skill or aptitude, however, it is something that she could pass down to a 12 year old sister who HAD shown aptitude. Passing that knowledge onto Whitley when he got older or showed aptitude for it would fall on both sisters, but mainly Weiss who was there whilst Winter was at boarding school. 

However, you cant teach someone something if they simply cannot do it. 

Which is alluded to when Weiss asks Whitley, 

As Winter progressed and learned more at Atlas, and thereby improving herself, she evidently passed down that knowledge and began challenging Weiss in ways that she had never been. Preparing her and giving Weiss the tools she would need to begin carving out her own path from out under their Father’s iron grip.

Other things that Winter would go on to learn would be of a strict military nature, hardly fitting for an 8 year old boy. 

2) OPPORTUNITY.

Winter then went into the Military, more than likely signed up before graduation without consulting her father, signing an ironclad contract even he couldnt fight against.  This is what more than likely caused Winter to lose her Heiress title, as a punishment or to strong arm her back to the fold. 

There is a good chance that Jacques told Winter she was no longer part of the family, limiting her contact with her siblings. 

As Klein alludes to Weiss when she absconds in the middle of the night.

 “After tonight, Winter will be your only family.”

We can guess that Winter had access to Weiss from 12 - 17,  up until she was written out. And only continued training and guiding her sister when she had the chance and in the best way she knew how.

We have no point of reference as to the exact reason why Whitley dislikes his siblings, only that he does and we can speculate till the cows come home whether it is by personal choice or brain washing by his Father.

  It stands to reason that if Whitley doesnt like his siblings that he would not find either of them inspiring and have no wish to spend time with them, no matter if they sought him out or listen to them if they tried to give him advice. 

3) AFFECTION

This is painstakingly covered in @rwby-analysis Winter post. However, i would like to add.

We know whilst growing up, Winter did her best to stand up for her sibling’s in lieu of their Mother’s absence.

We also know that Weiss cares for Whitley by how hurt she was at his perceived betrayal and wanting Weiss to lose her heiress status so he could take her place.

4)OTHER DECIDING FACTORS (and modern parallels )

A) More than likely at 17, Winter did not know how to move in the real world outside her gilded cage, ie. Taking care of her own clothes, something as simple as cooking and all the everyday skills that poor folks learn by living an ordinary life.

She was in a military boarding school, no place for a child and in no position to take custody of said child. At 17 how could she provide for herself and her sibling with no money, no knowledge of how the real world works and no way to gain employment.

Weiss is also facing similar issues.

Still at 23 and 18, neither sister is in a position to take on custody of a teenager.

B) Fighting JACQUES SCHNEE for custody. 

Neither Winter or Weiss has the resources to go up against the deep coffers of the SDC or the caliber of lawyers on retainer to the conglomerate. Never mind the PR and undermining of the pair in the media by Jacques. 

A person fully prepared to gaslight the world as to the mental health of Weiss. 

Again, in order to gain custody, Winter and Weiss would need to prove that they can take care of the health and well being of a teenager. 

If Winter stayed in the military to provide money for all three, she would still have long stints away on deployment, leaving Whitley in the legal care of Weiss. 

(and this all boils down to if Whitley wants to live with his sisters.)

C) Yes, whilst it is possible that both Weiss and Winter could have take it upon themselves to teach Whitley in combat to the point where he could have excelled enough without the hereditary semblance of glyphs and summoning, solely relying on dust usage which is at their disposal on a huge scale, as we have seen with the likes of Roman and Mercury, 

The difference is that Roman and Mercury started from a young age and learned as a necessity to survive. 

Both Schnee sisters rely heavily upon their semblance to succeed, (look how easy it has been to take down Weiss up until recently). I would suggest that neither sister has the skill to train somebody to that caliber, who has no semblance. And not being on hand 24/7 to oversee such tutelage. 

But this avenue is also relying on the proviso that Whitley showed any interest at all about learning combat, and by his comments to Weiss about 

“Huntsmen being uncivilized and why bother when you have an Army, cause that is what armies are for.”

Would lead the viewer to summarize either he tried and failed miserably, fueling his jealousy of his siblings OR he genuinely has no interest. 

D) The on coming danger and threat to mankind. 

Weiss knows exactly what they are up against. That the fate of the world rests in her and her friends hands.

She has witnessed the Fall of Beacon and lost friends that were more than capable of taking care of themselves.

Winter knows that things are getting worse, being General Ironwood’s Second in Command, she may not be fully in the know like her sister, but she is aware that there is a threat unlike any other and the world is on the brink of war. 

Where would be the safest place for a younger sibling with no way to protect himself?

Is it not care that you know exactly where they are? 

Would it not be neglectful on the Schneester’s part to remove Whitley from what is probably the safest place on the planet, surrounded by security, infinite resources , to traipse around the world, constantly under threat and not knowing where the next safe haven will present itself? 

That bringing Whitley along would open him up to far more dangerous situations. 

In this case I would say, that Winter and Weiss are both thinking..

“Better the Devil you know.”

shout out of thanks to @winterschnee-frozenelegance for providing images with screen caps

[sinfvls]

          hey all you cool cats and kittens !  it’s carole desi from big cat rescue and i’m here to deliver a tubular trio to this glorious group. i’ve been on the hunt for a solid supernatural rp for idk how long and i’m so stoked to find a home in bloodshq  &  begin writing / plotting with every single one of you !  admittedly, their backgrounds are pretty underwhelming because they’re all new muses ( lord help me ) and i’m still getting a feel for them, and i have just a few wanted connections up for grabs listed at the end of each of their blurbs, so if you see any that strike your interest please feel free to slide into my ims ( but i’m also super open to anything, so feel free to hit me with your ideas too ! )  &  now without further ado, i give you  DAMON BELMONT ,  NICHOLAS SPENCER  &  VERONA ADLER. 

damon belmont  has been seen walking the seattle streets. the werewolf has been in town for  one week, and are known to be  aloof  but also very  loyal.  the  thirty seven  year old is the  vice president of the mongrels motorcycle club.  if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble charlie hunnam. their pronouns are  he/him.  damon’s werewolf gene is  triggered.

statistics & connections

doesn’t know who his parents are / were.  he was found abandoned in the woods of hayfork, california as a wee babe by a pair of hikers.  tossed into the social system, he hopped from foster home to foster home, until finally sticking with a woman named delilah belmont, who eventually opted to adopt him.

she lived off the grid, in the backwoods, where she fended for herself by hunting for meat, growing her own produce, and even tended to livestock. damon thrived in this lifestyle, learning how to survive in the wilderness. he didn’t go to public school. instead, he was homeschooled by delilah, who taught him only what she valued to be of great importance. she wasn’t gonna raise no soft, yellowbelly who couldn’t fend for himself.

however, one day while out hunting, the two were attacked by a grizzly bear and it mauled delilah nearly to death before damon put a few rounds of bullets into it. there was no saving her, and she knew it. instead, she begged damon to end the pain. out of mercy, he killed her, and thus triggered the werewolf gene he didn’t even realize was in him. the confusion he had to deal with alone as a result was heartbreaking. he didn’t understand what he was, seeing himself as a monster whenever there was a full moon to unleash his inner beast. damon thought he was the only one of his kind, until he met a group of mysterious travelers.

the mongrels motorcycle club, what everyone assumed to be a band of criminals. damon first met them at a dive bar in town, where he’d been planning to drink himself into a stupor. they knew what he was immediately and offered him a home; a new family with them. while he had so many unanswered questions, the young werewolf also had nothing to lose, and so he joined the bloodmoon pack and never looked back. 

the acceptance and relief from knowing he wasn’t an abomination was overwhelming. never did he think that he would develop such a strong bond with another person, let alone an entire pack of werewolves. the bloodmoon pack has been travelling just about everywhere, stopping in areas to rest before carrying on again, living as vagabonds, and picking up “strays” / other packless werewolves along the way. he’s been with the pack for sixteen years.

( more tba yikes )

wanted connections

bloodmoon pack / mongrels mc members.  still need a president, sgt at arms, road captain, enforcer, chaplain, etc. info can be found on the wanted connections page on the main !

soulmate. listen, he’s been around the block and i think it’s safe to say he’d have found his mate by now asdjkhg. she could have already been with the pack when he joined, or joined after him at some point. completely open to plotting all the details. filled by cleo clarke

( more tba maybe sdjhfg )

nicholas “nick” spencer  has lived in seattle for  twelve years, and are known to be  broody  but also very  altruistic.  the  twenty one  year old human  goes to school at seattle university.  if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble finn cole. their pronouns are  he/him.  nick is  unaware  of the supernatural.

statistics & connections

born in los angeles, california to a pair of admirably gifted parents, nicholas spencer lived a fairly privileged first eight years of his life. his mother, a soap opera actress, and his father, a talented chef, gave both nick and his older sister a life full of love and luxury. yes, everything was absolutely perfect in their world. until it wasn’t.

at barely eight years old, nick was violently thrown along with his sister into one of the most traumatic experiences any child could go through; they lost their parents to a fatal car accident. being forced to move to seattle with his sister to live with their aunt, he didn’t fully understand what it meant; he couldn’t properly process what was going on. the pain of his loss was expressed more out of anger, feeling as though their parents abandoned them. and thus, nick’s out of control behavior was born.

suicide mention tw.  he struggled in school. his emotions betrayed him. instead of relishing a happy childhood, nick found himself pushing everyone away, getting into fights, sneaking out late at night to run around the city with his friends and get into all sorts of trouble with them. he couldn’t count on his hands how many times the police picked him up and brought him to his aunt’s doorstep. it only got worse once one of his best friends was found dead, written off as a suicide, though it didn’t add up in nick’s eyes and seemed so much more sinister. the young man was nearly deemed to be a lost cause, until he discovered his passion for writing.

language arts or literature was the last thing anyone would ever think to group with nick spencer. he was quite eloquent, sure, but the one thing he always did was play basketball at one of the outdoor courts in seattle. anytime he needed to blow off steam, to contemplate life, or just to shoot hoops, you could always catch him at the court. but his english teacher noticed how well he could articulate his thoughts and feelings on paper, and submitted one of his pieces to a writing contest, which earned nick the win and three thousand dollars as a prize.

bewildered by a talent he hadn’t even realized was in him, nick embraced it. he started writing in a journal ( which he keeps safely tucked away beneath the mattress of his bed ), documenting every feeling and thought as a way to express his emotions in a more productive manner. this talent earned him a full ride scholarship to seattle university, where he’s now a literature major with plans of either becoming an author or perhaps an english teacher, to follow in the footsteps of his high school teacher who he came to idolize.

( more will be added later oop )

wanted connections

his three best friends ( see listed in wanted connections on the main ! )

someone he doesn’t see eye to eye with, maybe opposite in personality or morals. most likely someone he went to high school with or someone who also attends seattle university ( bonus points if they’re supernatural )

some bad folk he may have accidentally gotten mixed up with, either in the past or current ( or both sdfhkjg ). could literally be ANYTHING, maybe he saw something he shouldn’t have, maybe there’s some drug scandal he got mixed up in and now can’t get out of ??  

more tba eventually !

verona adler  has been seen walking the seattle streets. the fae has been in town for  three years, and are known to be  restive  but also very  fervent.  the  twenty four  year old works as a  bar & grill waitress.  if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble dove cameron. their pronouns are  she/her. 

statistics & connections

oakdale, louisiana.  born and bred.  she was raised middle to two brothers, one older and one younger, but was the absolute apple of her mom and dad’s eye, being their only daughter. her family was reputable, as were the strawberry fields they owned. people from all over the state would pay a petty price to pick a few cartons full of the famously juicy adler strawberries.

at a very young age, verona had to learn how to better control her emotions, which is very difficult for a child to understand and do. she was known for glowing tantrums, and levitating when particularly elated over something. however, in due time, the young faerie learned to hide these paramount parts of herself from the world surrounding them, out of fear over the potential backlash of human ignorance.

she’s been very personable her entire life, much like a light in a dark room. excelling in school, she mastered both academics and the social aspect, she was on the school’s yearbook committee as well as the cheerleading squad, and played an active part in her community as best as she could, generally through volunteer work. a true southern belle, through and through.

however, verona was exhausted. she couldn’t stand pretending to be something she wasn’t; hiding her true colors from the world just because the world was deemed to be much too censorious when it came to being different. while she adored her family and friends, she wasn’t being true to herself which left her unhappy behind closed doors. so, at the age of twenty one, she found an ad in the paper for a roommate in seattle and the city was evidently huge in comparison to her small town. the thought of living somewhere that was hopefully more accepting was an absolute dream, so she packed her things and made the move.

she’s been living in seattle for three years now, working at the same bar & grill she started off with as a waitress and she loves it. she loves meeting people that come from all different walks of life, the mixture of humans and supernatural is perfect. though she’s still a little put out by hiding her true self, she enjoys being surrounded by a bigger populace of supernatural beings that she generally doesn’t have to hide around.

( more tba probably ... eventually )

wanted connections

exes / flings / one night stands.  her friends calling her a slut is just teasing and gets a laugh out of her, a stranger calling her a slut will put vee in a full on rage, but all in all .... girl gets around.  NOT because she’s a sex fiend, but because she loves the idea of being loved, and therefore looks for it in all the wrong places sdfahkfjg. 

best friend ( supernatural only pls ! ).  she needs someone she can fully open up to without worry of being judged, rant / vent to each other about all the shit in their lives, talk about things they wouldn’t normally be able to talk about in the public, etc. a good wholesome friendship.

someone she annoys / who annoys her / or both.  girl is basically a constant ray of sunshine & agonizingly curious / nosy, and that probably presses at least one person. she can’t stand some who’s a grump without a cause & has an insatiable need to pick people apart in order to find out wtf happened to them / the reason why they are the way that they are.

maybe her brother(s) ?  i mean, if anyone wanted to pick them up, they’re free to snag !!

more tba later !