#and honor as a way of life that keeps him fixed on the right path

[wildsaltair]

thinking today about the parallel between Maximus’ motto “strength and honor” and Proximo’s motto “shadows and dust”

[androgynealienfemme]

"There is a kind of connection that I sometimes have, with certain people, a way of trust that only comes with people who have what I always think of as a butch heart. That's not quite right. Some of them don't identify as butches; some, in fact, hardly identify as anything even in the same zip code. But's it's a very boy way of being bigger than, a sturdy and quiet way, taking care of everyone around you as best you can, always trying to fix it, always stepping up to do the crap job that gets no recognition, and also of being so gentle, so generous, so nonjudgemental of other people, believing that they are doing their best.

Is that sexist? I don't mean it to be. I mean to describe this way of some masculine things, so different in its energy from other ways of caretaking. In Yiddish, this is referred to as being a mensch, which also means a man. There's a part of me thatr wishes I could separate it entirely from gender, and another part which sees it as exactly right that this is gendered, that there are ways of butchness that are composed of the best of masculinity and leave all of its borrish excesses behind.

But I met this butch, a handsome writing with a toughness about him that I recognized as the result of his life for the forty-six years before he and I crossed paths, a toughness that even still showed an underlying playfulness. That he had been able to keep that place alive and tender in the hardness of life made him light up my eyes as someone who would know some of the things I knew, someone who would honor the same places in me, and we started talking. Talking turned into flirting, and flirting turned into intention. We made a date to spend an evening together seeing what our combined toughness and playfulness might mean when we took our clothes off, a kind of old-style faggot good time without a lot of expectation about who might or would do what, to or for whom.''

"Laying Down with A Butch” Butch is a Noun essays by S. Bear Bergman (2006)

[arliganzey]

Zey/Vau? 👀👀👀

all right all right I dropped hints here and

and now I gotta explain myself

Folks, this was supposed to be a crackship RP between @the-pyromaniacs-teki and me. We were all like teehee let's write Vau and Zey slash, it's crack taken seriously. Yeah, okay, so we took it very seriously and tried to keep them in character as much as possible and fit it into the canon timeline, and now it consumes our entire beings. We're married to it and there's nothing you can do to change our minds.

It starts right after the events of Triple Zero: Zey has a bottle of vintage whiskey and he determines Vau might appreciate trying it, so he invites Vau to his office for a celebratory drink after a successful mission (this would happen the night that Kal and the gang go out with Obrim and CSF). So Vau has just had the crap beat out of him by Atin, but he shows up anyway (it's a social call and he is a gentleman who honors his commitments).

They drink whiskey too fast. They're chatting. Zey is like maybe I can fix your face? And... the rest of you? (Having no idea what happened. Also Bardan had to learn Force healing from someone so I think Zey can Force heal. Mini headcanon moment.)

So a little face touching later... a little curiosity... too much whiskey... the taboo of kissing a Jedi/Mandalorian...

Look at my pfp. Now look back at me. It happens in Zey's office.

And they're like never again. But then they kind of obsess over it (separately) until Zey caves and tracks Vau down. Happens again. Zey, the detached Jedi, suggests a casual arrangement, because how the hell could Walon Vau develop feelings for a Jedi?

So they meet up a few more times and have a steamy com call or two during the war. (Alicia Keys song 'IT'S A WAAAR TIIIME LOOOVE AAAAFFAIR') Vau teaches Zey some mando'a... because Zey knows lots of conversational bits of various languages for diplomacy reasons, but he should definitely learn more mando'a because the troops are always speaking it...

There's a pretty long lull in contact (8ish months) and then Zey cuts things off abruptly during the events of Order 66, right after the conversation where he asks Vau to spy on Kal. And it's not great! They both caught some feelings! War is stressful and it was some escapism comfort! But Zey is a jerk about it and insists it was all casual and meant nothing!

Insert all canon events here (Zey arrives at Kyrimorut with Maze; Vau is PISSED and argues with Kal about it; Zey gets sent off to Altis).

Are you still with me? Okay this is where we just went straight up indulgent. First of all, Etain lives. Whew. Zey gets to meet Venku. He still cries. Everyone at Kyrimorut is a lot happier in general, and slightly more accepting that Zey is alive.

One way or another, Vau and Zey keep crossing paths (because Zey wants to hang out with his former employee-children Etain and Bardan). Vau and Zey soften toward each other and suddenly they're spending more time together as friends and then wham, Vau has a near death experience on a job and decides to stop farting around because life is short. He gets back together with Zey.

ARE YOU STILL WITH ME? OKAY SO THEY ARE OLD GUYS IN LOVE. EVENTUALLY ZEY GOES FULL MANDO. BARDAN (NOW AN ARMOR SMITH) MAKES HIM ARMOR. THIS IS HOW WE GET ARLIGAN ZEY IN MANDALORIAN ARMOR!!! HE BECOMES FULL HOUSEHUSBAND MANDO AND LEARNS HOW TO COOK AND JUST VIBES AND HAS HOBBIES AND MAKES SOCIAL CALLS WHILE VAU KEEPS WORKING BOUNTIES

"But Cal--" NO I GET IT. I KNOW IT'S INSANE. BEGONE [smashes my Zey and Vau dolls together] NOW KITH

[tangledstrings-ifgame]

Demo: TBA

Current TWs: Violence, Falling from heights, graphic content (gore, sexual content, etc.)

18+

Your mentor, an old woman with wrinkled eyes and a sharp tongue, used to tell you about the times of old. When heroes would be struck by Destiny.

You would listen, wings twitching with impatience as she slowly told you story after story. When she would finally let you free, you would escape and bury yourself in the work of the forges.

It was there in those rooms lit by fire and clashing metal that Destiny had noticed you. Not in a sword or a hammer, but in a little note slipped to you by your childhood friend, Elhan.

You had been worried about him. He had drifted from his post as a scientist and ventured into politics--a dangerous game.

The floating archipelago that you called home sat upon a sea of purple clouds. It was paradise. It was not utopia, especially in those marbled halls where senators sipped wine and thumbed knives under their sleeves.

When Elhan told you of the artifact he had discovered, you recognized the danger that threatened to drag the archipelago crashing down to the ground below.

You had to act. That artifact was a weapon from a mythologized past that spoke of a power devastating enough to burn away whole continents with just the flick of a switch. No one knew how it worked, and as brilliant as Elhan was, you did not think that any scientist or politician should hold such power. What use was burning the ground below the clouds to a crisp? There was no use for warmongering anymore, your people had been peaceful for centuries-

Even if it was fixed, there was no safe way to test it. When you had asked Elhan, he had simply glanced at you, mumbling about how you must break away the stone to make a statue.

To your knowledge the situation was this: either the weapon did not work and did nothing, the weapon did not work but it blew up and destroys the islands whole, or the wretched thing works and those politicians eat it up to begin a new age of power.

Surely, you had thought, the consequences of dabbling in this should far outweigh the meager benefits. Politicians must care to keep breathing, right?

Wrong. They cared about blood and honor as they strived for a glorified past. And your oldest friend, Elhan, cared about knowledge above all else, even above you.

Declared a traitor against your home for attempting to destroy the machine, you would be disposed of like all traitors to the archipelago.

Surgically remove the wings. A stab through the chest. Throw off the island. Simple, really.

Elhan had betrayed you in those marbled halls, but he saved your life on the operating table.

He gave you a chance of redemption. You would be left untouched, aside from the removal of your wings. Should you ever want to prevent the weapon from being used? Or wish to see the stars and moon again? Burn the kingdom to the ground before the next Solstice.

Destiny has struck you, batting you off of the island and to the clouds below like a cat tipping over a glass.

Welcome to the human Kingdom of Yalkasana. Your home awaits.

Meet the group of unlikely friends who all want the same thing as you. To save their home.

The Princess (She/Her):

- Maira Yalkansanas is the darling of the court, her place secured by being the second of the dead King and Queen’s children. With a noble heart and gentle air, people part like the sea before her path. Her grey eyes mirror the clouds above her beloved kingdom, with a sharpness that glints like a knife in the dark. She has everything she never wanted, and three people who allow her to call Yalkasana her home, her twin brother, her falcon, and her oldest friend.

The Prince (He/Him):

- Hylens Yalkansanas is the people’s sword and shield, his place secured by being the first born of the dead King and Queen’s children. He is valiant and brave, an aspiration for every guard and soldier in the kingdom. His grey eyes mirror the cold metal of his father’s sword, with some softness of the clouds above them all. He cradles his duty with the awkwardness of someone being handed a babe as the parent walks away without a word. But he holds it steady; there is no one else to hand it off to anymore.

The Diplomat (They/Them):

- Morn Lyfes is the first and youngest Elven diplomat to walk through Yalkasana in over a century. A clear-sighted and fire-eyed beauty with a light footstep. They were born in bloodshed, raised in ruin, and came of age in the restoration of their kingdom. They are the closest anyone in Yalkasana will ever get to seeing a star.

The Healer (He/She/They):

- Rhayen Thurm is a steady and mostly reputable healer in the castle. One of a dozen, almost completely interchangeable with the rest. With a stubborn willingness to puzzle out hopeless cases that all other healers turn away, hair as white as their gloves, and eyes red like rubies, they stand out despite their mediocre skills and status. Their smile is soft, despite it's twist.

The Baker (He/She/They):

- Gullan Wasy is a cook in the castle. Their mother was incredibly skilled, but died with the plague before she had the chance to teach them her secrets. Now they feed the servants of the castle and help with feasts or parties when any extra pair of hands with even half a wit will do. They are stubbornly kind and well-meaning despite how much trouble it always gets them in.

Tangled Strings is an interactive fiction game made in Twine using Sugarcube.

[[Build the story with a multitude of choices ranging from murders to lovers. There will be choices in sex, gender, sexuality, background, morals, skills, and personality.]]

I am working on: Chapter One as of 12/14/24 and plan to have it published before 01/27/25 as the demo.

[bedlamsbard]

Have a little Yonderverse ficbit of Thor and Loki and some of New Asgard's animal life. (Freki is the cat on the table.)

About 850 words below the break.

*****

The third night Thor woke up with three hounds and two cats tucked in around him, he finally snapped and demanded, “Where did the animals come from?  They weren’t on the Statesman with us.”

He wasn’t exactly opposed to the company – he liked animals – but he had no idea where they had come from.  Given how efficiently and ruthlessly Loki seemed to have micromanaged all of New Asgard over the course of the past five years, he also had no doubt that Loki knew exactly where they were from.  Probably each and every one of them, individually, down to the damned Álfar geese that seemed to be running rampant across the thorp.

His brother didn’t bother to glance up from the glowing model of the settlement that he had set up in a corner of his study.  There was another cat perched on top of his desk, studiously cleaning a paw, and a hound sprawled on the floor in front of one of the room’s several braziers, its tail and hind legs twitching a little as it dreamed.

“Here and there,” Loki said.

“Loki,” Thor said meaningfully. “These aren’t from Earth.”

Loki finally raised his head and looked vaguely around the room, then pointed at the hound and said, “Those are from Earth.”

Thor looked at the hound, which looked like the most common kind of Asgardian or Vanir hound – big, wolf-like, with a plumed tail and a thick ruff of fur around its neck. “That dog is not from Earth.”

“Not the dog,” Loki said meaningfully.  When Thor stared at him, he let out a little annoyed huff and came out from behind the model, crossing to the dog and crouching down in front of it to rub at its ears.  The hound woke up, thumped its tail, and raised its head, revealing three small kittens that had been nestled between its front paws, hidden under its chin.  Loki handed one of the kittens up to Thor.

It fit neatly into the palm of his hand, about half the size of an Asgardian kitten of the same age, but was old enough that its eyes were open and it had a little white stub of tail.  It made a mewling sound as Thor ran a finger down the soft fur of its back, making the big cat on the desk stand up and fix a meaningful glare on Thor.  After a moment she leapt down to the floor and trotted over to them, touching noses solemnly with the hound before settling down to groom the kittens.  The contrast in size made Thor smile before he crouched to put the kitten he had been holding down beside her.

“All right, those are from Earth,” he agreed.  “Where did the other animals come from?”

Loki sat back on his heels, resting his wrists on his knees.  His mouth twisted a little, like he was trying to decide what to say, then he shrugged and said, “The destruction of the Infinity Stones five years ago split open the world-paths in Yggdrasil.  They’re not impossible to wander into normally, but it’s difficult.  For a time it became less difficult.  There were also a large number of animals in the Nine who suddenly found themselves without their caretakers.  The settlement had certain needs, so I sent out a calling.”  He shrugged matter-of-factly.  “The world-paths went back to more or less their former state a few years ago, though we still get the odd newcomer.”

Thor stared at him. “You stole people’s pets?  And livestock?”

Loki looked aggrieved. “I’ve never gotten any complaints.  And even if I had, stealing cattle is a time-honored tradition of our people.”

“All of those animals’ owners are back now!”

Loki stroked a hand down the cat’s back. “They’re welcome to come here and take it up with me,” he said, thought about it, and then added, “And the animals themselves, of course, I wouldn’t keep them here if they wanted to leave.”

Thor dug a thumb into his forehead.  “Brother…”

“It’s not as though the animals couldn’t have left on their own if they were so inclined,” Loki said pointedly. “The world-paths go both ways.  And honestly I wish the damned Álfar geese would go, but having been the bane of my existence for the past five years I’m glad that they’ve at least moved on to tormenting you too.”

“Thanks,” Thor said dryly.  “Where did these cats come from?  The ones from Earth.”

“Darcy brought them by when she visited last week,” Loki said, his expression saying, obviously, you oaf.  “I think you were out.”

Thor stared at him. “Since when do you know Darcy?”

Loki raised his eyebrows. “You were busy being dead.  What, I can’t make friends?”

Since Thor had spent the past few weeks trying to shake the uncharitable feeling that Loki had not only stolen all of his friends but also his life while he had been dead, he didn’t have a good response to that.  He just shook his head and reached out to scratch the dog’s ears as it thumped its tail against the floor.

[daydreamingfangirl247]

Healing Wounds

A/N: Shout out to @dinainsun who posted this idea and I couldn't help but run with it!! This is PURELY platonic angst that fades to a happier ending for the Lin Kuei Bros!!! Let me know what you guys think!!!!!!

Titan!Bi-Han x Current-timeline!KuaiLiang

Another War. Just what he needed. As if mentally prepping for a war with Bi-Han's betrayal wasn't enough. As all of the many various versions of Liu Kang's champions, and many others surrounded him he felt an immense heaviness in his heart. Bi-Han was supposed to be there with him and Tomas. However, this feeling would have to wait.

"Kuai Liang? Tomas?" a familiar voice rings out behind him and he freezes as if he had ice flushed into his body. He turns around to see something completely unexpected. Confusion filled Kuai Liang's features as he stared at his brother... at least by looks. His robes were different from Bi-Han's normal grandmaster attire yet, it seemed so fitting. His eyes were not as cold, instead, they held a warmth he only saw in Bi-Han when they were younger.

"Bi-Han?" Tomas' voice rang out snapping Kuai Liang out of his trance.

"How is this possible?" The Bi-Han in front of him questions, stepping forward and Tomas takes a defensive stance, Kuai doesn't move an inch.

"Are you here to help us?" Kuai Liang questions, praying to the Elder Gods that this wasn't a regurgitation of the betrayal he just dealt with.

"Yes. Lord Liu Kang asked me to join you all in battle. " He calmly responds. "My apologies for startling you both. I couldn't believe my eyes, seeing that I lost my Kuai Liang and Tomas." He explains. Kuai Liang and Tomas visibly relax and yet keep their guard up.

"Well, we are honored you joined us," Tomas says and they all bow to each other.

"Thank you, Tomas." The alter Bi-Han says. As they all come close to each other the next action shocks Kuai to his core. "Who did this to you brother?" Alter Bi-Han questions slowly reaching toward him. slowly backing away from the touch Kuai looks at him wide-eyed. He wasn't trained for this, Nor was he used to Bi-Han being so gentle.

"You did. Well in my timeline, my brother did right as he betrayed us to join with those we face now." Kuai Liang explains slowly gauging for a reaction from the familiar-looking stranger. Alter Bi-Han slowly pauses short of touching Kuai Liang, almost as if he was electrocuted.

"I'm so sorry that has happened to you." He apologizes, eyes filling with sadness. "I swear I will help your cause and hopefully by the end of this, your Bi-Han will change his ways. Kuai could only nod. He knew not how to handle such emotions. He knew however that he would get through it. Despite how it direly affected how he felt.

“IT IS TIME!” Liu Kang’s voice rang out and all of their attention went to the current battle ahead of them. 

~A good bit later…

The battle had been won. Everyone had been returned to their timelines and life had moved on. Somewhat at least. As Kuai and Tomas began to rebuild and create the Shirai Ryu, Kuai had a lot to process. Why? Simply because the ghost of the Bi-Han he met during the War recently haunted him. Unfortunately, by the end of the battle, his Bi-Han did not come back to them. Instead, he went his own path, destroying any chances of them fixing their issues. Lord Liu Kang was the only person who saw this turmoil. As time moved on Kuai fell in love with Harumi Shirai and ended up shaping up for a war all their own against his own brother. As they all finished training one night, Kuai stayed behind to train more. More or less to block out his own thoughts. As he failed to keep focus, he noticed the portal opening behind him. He turns to see Liu Kang and to his surprise…The Alternate timeline version of his brother. 

“Lord Liu Kang? What is this?” he questions genuinely confused.

“Perhaps I could explain Kuai Liang.” The alter tries. Kuai pauses and nods allowing it. “Ever since the battle we faced together, when I went home I constantly had dreams surrounding you and my alternate self. I made contact with Lord Liu Kang and found out it was actually me seeing what was going on and I wanted to extend a hand to help you. I know this is hard to understand, however, I want to help you find peace. It truly pained me to see that another variant of me would do such a thing to his own.” He explains. Kuai looks to Liu Kang, who only nods, giving Kuai confirmation it was true.” 

“I am honored by this, however, you have no reason to do this.” Kuai Liang says.

“I lost my brothers. They turned against me just as your brother has done. I had no choice but to be against them alone. I know you have Tomas, however, Seeing that hurt in your eyes has haunted me ever since we met. I understand I will never be your brother however to make amends somewhat, please Kuai Liang…Let me help you.” The Alter Bi-Han pleads, eyes full of hope, longing, and care. So many feelings coursed through Kuai Liang. However, looking into Alternate! Bi-Han’s eyes he felt something he hadn’t felt in a while…Hope.

“I understand. I accept your help…Brother.” He says calling back to when the alter called him brother when they met. Alternate Bi-Han smiles warmly and extends his arm out and Kuai takes it as they look at each other they both say…

“For the Shirai Ryu and The Lin Kuei.”

[actiasteeth]

ASKBOX MEME 055 / BLUE EYE SAMURAI S01E01-03

All prompts taken from season one of Blue Eye Samurai (2023). Adjust as needed.

01. HAMMERSCALE

"Maybe I've been following you."

"You don't deserve my blade. You don't even deserve this blade."

"Go home."

"My whole life, I couldn't do anything right, but now I know what I'm supposed to do."

"A breeze can throw a crane off course. You are a typhoon."

"To a man lost in the dark, an ember can light the way."

"Have I defeated the undefeatable _____?"

"Think of it as an engagement gift."

"Every secret is revealed here."

"Yet an impurity in the right place is a quality."

"Are you stealing from me?"

"I do no know their names. I do know their fate. They will all die by my hand."

"You may be something shameful. You may also be strong."

"Oh, good. We get to kill you."

"A poor technique—easily learned, easily defeated."

"But... then you'll die."

"You've climbed some heights to be the prize of a miserable lot."

"You had a name for me."

"Thank you. No one has yet deserved my blade."

"Death comes for everyone. For you, today."

"Revenge is like gold. It does not rust. It will wait."

"I can never repay your kindness."

"You have spoken enough nonsense today."

"We cannot part in a lie."

"That is your burden to keep."

"You came to me as a stupid lost boy. If you insist on leaving now, it will be as a stupid lost man."

02. AN UNEXPECTED ELEMENT

"I do not want you anywhere near me. Stay away."

"I know why you think you don't want me around, but you can trust me."

"I'd never tell your secret—not ever."

"If I see you again, I will kill you and never think of you again."

"You will not find what you seek at my side."

"I am owed my revenge, and I will have it at any cost."

"My whole life has been a battle."

"Why didn't he just kill me?"

"Victory cannot come from dishonor."

"But what if he kills you this time?"

"There's no shame in making a home here and keeping your life."

"_____. Is your mind clear?"

"_____. Is your soul at rest?"

"Forgive my failure."

"This hand has taken many lives."

"We can only mind our own soul, _____."

"You do not try to change my mind this time!"

"You are not the hero of this family's story."

"Stupid girl. Too stupid to see—I am giving you an opportunity."

"Why didn't you stand up for me?"

"You think I don't know you, _____?"

"What choice do I have?"

"If we're running away, let's at least do it warm."

"I'm not even good at what I thought I was great at."

"You got somewhere better to be?"

"You have enemies now."

03. A FIXED NUMBER OF PATHS

"Killing it is a mercy. Do it already."

"Ugh—coward. I'll do it."

"Don't touch him."

"If that door opens, we die."

"You solve the problem."

"Is that an order?"

"So, if you might, my dear, dear friend—my trusted partner and clear equal, my right hand and both feet on land, fondest heart—spare a cup of concern towards our purpose... and do it your fucking self."

"If he dies, you die."

"You can barely stand, let alone hold that sword for long."

"I didn't kill you when I easily could have."

"How many days do you need before you're well enough to die?"

"You cost me my station and my honor. I'll have it all back when I return with your corpse."

"If you wanted me dead, you should've struck when you had the chance. The time to kill your enemy is when you can."

"You don't want revenge. You want a party."

"No one gets to kill you but me."

"There is no possibility this will be anything other than a trap."

"Revenge does not hesitate."

"Fight within your confines, not against them."

"I am not out here to learn a lesson."

"Count to ten, then climb out that window. Run."

"Been some time since I killed a man. I wonder if I still remember how."

"If you prefer, I can kill you now."

"You need me because you're weak."

"I can beat you with any weapon you choose."

"Oh, no. No, thank you. We're not going in that death trap."

"So if he's walking in to meet certain death, I'll be there to keep him and death from getting too friendly."

"To find out only now—you never believed in me."

"I look your way and don't even see you."

"I have no interest in money or power. I have no interest in being happy. Only satisfied."

"How do I trust you don't leave me in there to die?"

"My reasons are my own."

"What happens if I refuse?"

"Stop counting seconds till we die."

"Men like him like to talk so much they eventually tell you how to destroy them."

[richincolor]

[The images above are each of the book covers of the new releases. For more detailed descriptions for each cover, please visit the original post on our blog.]

New Releases

Maybe it has been happening every year and I didn't notice, but this January brought a fabulously large amount of new releases and I am not complaining. Here are a few we're watching for this week.

The Davenports (The Davenports #1) by Krystal Marquis Dial Books

The Davenports are one of the few Black families of immense wealth and status in a changing United States, their fortune made through the entrepreneurship of William Davenport, a formerly enslaved man who founded the Davenport Carriage Company years ago. Now it’s 1910, and the Davenports live surrounded by servants, crystal chandeliers, and endless parties, finding their way and finding love—even where they’re not supposed to.

There is Olivia, the beautiful elder Davenport daughter, ready to do her duty by getting married . . . until she meets the charismatic civil rights leader Washington DeWight and sparks fly. The younger daughter, Helen, is more interested in fixing cars than falling in love—unless it’s with her sister’s suitor. Amy-Rose, the childhood friend turned maid to the Davenport sisters, dreams of opening her own business—and marrying the one man she could never be with, Olivia and Helen’s brother, John. But Olivia’s best friend, Ruby, also has her sights set on John Davenport, though she can’t seem to keep his interest . . . until family pressure has her scheming to win his heart, just as someone else wins hers.

Inspired by the real-life story of the Patterson family, The Davenports is the tale of four determined and passionate young Black women discovering the courage to steer their own path in life—and love. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Two Can Play That Game by Leanne Yong Allen & Unwin

Sam Khoo has one goal in life: create cool indie games. She’s willing to do anything to make her dream come true – even throw away a scholarship to university. All she needs is a super-rare ticket to a game design workshop and she can kickstart her career.

So when Jaysen Chua, otherwise known as Jerky McJerkface, sneakily grabs the last ticket for himself, Sam is left with no choice. It’s war. Knowing all too well how their Australian-Malaysian community works, she issues him an ultimatum: put the ticket on the line in a 1v1 competition of classic video games, or she’ll broadcast his duplicity to everyone. Thank you, Asian Gossip Network.

Meeting in neutral locations, away from the eyes and ears of nosy aunties and uncles, Sam and Jay connect despite themselves. It’s a puzzle that Sam’s not sure she wants to solve. But when her dream is under threat, will she discover that there is more than one way to win?

Play the Game by Charlene Allen Katherine Tegan Books

In the game of life, sometimes other people hold all the controls. Or so it seems to VZ. Four months have passed since his best friend Ed was killed by a white man in a Brooklyn parking lot.

When Singer, the man who killed Ed, is found dead in the same spot where Ed was murdered, all signs point to Jack, VZ’s other best friend, as the prime suspect.

VZ’s determined to complete the video game Ed never finished and figure out who actually killed Singer. With help from Diamond, the girl he’s crushing on at work, VZ falls into Ed’s quirky gameiverse. As the police close in on Jack, the game starts to uncover details that could lead to the truth about the murder.

Can VZ honor Ed and help Jack before it’s too late? — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Reggie and Delilah’s Year of Falling by Elise Bryant Balzer + Bray

Delilah always keeps her messy, gooey insides hidden behind a wall of shrugs and yeah, whatevers. She goes with the flow—which is how she ends up singing in her friends’ punk band as a favor, even though she’d prefer to hide at the merch table.

Reggie is a D&D Dungeon Master and self-declared Blerd. He spends his free time leading quests and writing essays critiquing the game under a pseudonym, keeping it all under wraps from his disapproving family.

These two, who have practically nothing in common, meet for the first time on New Year’s Eve. And then again on Valentine’s Day. And then again on St. Patrick’s Day. It’s almost like the universe is pushing them together for a reason.

Delilah wishes she were more like Reggie—open about what she likes and who she is, even if it’s not cool. Except . . . it’s all a front. Reggie is just role-playing someone confident. The kind of guy who could be with a girl like Delilah.

As their holiday meetings continue, the two begin to fall for each other. But what happens once they realize they’ve each fallen for a version of the other that doesn’t really exist? — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

The Black Queen by Jumata Emill Delacorte Press

Nova Albright was going to be the first Black homecoming queen at Lovett High—but now she’s dead. Murdered on coronation night. Fans of One of Us Is Lying and The Other Black Girl will love this unputdownable thriller.

Nova Albright, the first Black homecoming queen at Lovett High, is dead. Murdered the night of her coronation, her body found the next morning in the old slave cemetery she spent her weekends rehabilitating.

Tinsley McArthur was supposed to be queen. Not only is she beautiful, wealthy, and white, it’s her legacy—her grandmother, her mother, and even her sister wore the crown before her. Everyone in Lovett knows Tinsley would do anything to carry on the McArthur tradition.

No one is more certain of that than Duchess Simmons, Nova’s best friend. Duchess’s father is the first Black police captain in Lovett. For Duchess, Nova’s crown was more than just a win for Nova. It was a win for all the Black kids. Now her best friend is dead, and her father won’t fact the fact that the main suspect is right in front of him. Duchess is convinced that Tinsley killed Nova—and that Tinsley is privileged enough to think she can get away with it. But Duchess’s father seems to be doing what he always does: fall behind the blue line. Which means that the white girl is going to walk.

Duchess is determined to prove Tinsley’s guilt. And to do that, she’ll have to get close to her.

But Tinsley has an agenda, too.

Everyone loved Nova. And sometimes, love is exactly what gets you killed. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

Promise Boys by Nick Brooks Henry Holt and Co. (BYR)

The Urban Promise Prep School vows to turn boys into men. As students, J.B., Ramón, and Trey are forced to follow the prestigious “program’s” strict rules. Extreme discipline, they’ve been told, is what it takes to be college bound, to avoid the fates of many men in their neighborhoods. This, the Principal Moore Method, supposedly saves lives.

But when Moore ends up murdered and the cops come sniffing around, the trio emerges as the case’s prime suspects. With all three maintaining their innocence, they must band together to track down the real killer before they are arrested. But is the true culprit hiding among them? — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

How to Be a (Young) Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi & Nic Stone Kokila

The New York Times bestseller How to be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi is shaping the way a generation thinks about race and racism. How to be a (Young) Antiracist is a dynamic reframing of the concepts shared in the adult book, with young adulthood front and center. Aimed at readers 12 and up, and co-authored by award-winning children’s book author Nic Stone, How to be a (Young) Antiracist empowers teen readers to help create a more just society. Antiracism is a journey–and now young adults will have a map to carve their own path. Kendi and Stone have revised this work to provide anecdotes and data that speaks directly to the experiences and concerns of younger readers, encouraging them to think critically and build a more equitable world in doing so. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

One Girl In All The World (In Every Generation #2) by Kendare Blake Disney-Hyperion

Into every generation, a slayer is born. One girl in all the world . . . maybe.

Frankie Rosenberg is the world’s first slayer-witch, but she doesn’t have that slay-life balance figured out just yet. After all, being the newest slayer means that another slayer had to die. Frankie and the Scooby gang are still reeling from the deadly explosion that rocked the annual slayer retreat―and grappling with new evidence that some slayers may have made it out alive. And even though they defeated bloodthirsty vampire the Countess, it doesn’t mean Sunnydale is free from the forces of evil.

Something has reawakened the Hellmouth―and is calling old friends home. Someone is performing demon magic in the shadows, opening portals between dimensions. Everyone has demons to contend with―of the metaphorical and the very real (occasionally very hot) variety. And an oracle warns of a new evil on its way: the Darkness.

Could this be what attacked the slayers? And is it coming for Frankie? — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

The Cartographers by Amy Zhang *HarperCollins

Ocean Wu has always felt enormous pressure to succeed. After struggling with depression during her senior year in high school, Ocean moves to New York City, where she has been accepted at a prestigious university. But Ocean feels so emotionally raw and unmoored (and uncertain about what is real and what is not), that she decides to defer and live off her savings until she can get herself together. She also decides not to tell her mother (whom she loves very much but doesn’t want to disappoint) that she is deferring—at least until she absolutely must.

In New York, Ocean moves into an apartment with Georgie and Tashya, two strangers who soon become friends, and gets a job tutoring. She also meets a boy—Constantine Brave (a name that makes her laugh)—late one night on the subway. Constant is a fellow student and a graffiti artist, and Constant and Ocean soon start corresponding via Google Docs—they discuss physics, philosophy, art, literature, and love. But everything falls apart when Ocean goes home for Thanksgiving, Constant reveals his true character, Georgie and Tashya break up, and the police get involved.

Ocean, Constant, Georgie, and Tashya are all cartographers—mapping out their futures, their dreams, and their paths toward adulthood in this stunning and heartbreaking novel about finding the strength to control your own destiny. — Cover image and summary via Goodreads

*The HarperCollins Union has been striking since 10 November 2022. Please consider supporting the strike by purchasing books through the union's Bookshop account or by donating to the strike fund.

[docnomore]

Ludicrous dialogue in my head. Two lesbians decide to marry, which “father of the bride” pays? When I was a child, such questions never needed asking. When I was a child, the ideal was that we were never to bring shame or dishonor to the family name. How tightly did we cleave to that latter thought process? Not very. We were young and stupid. We did what we did without giving thought to consequences - real or imagined. We were too poor to contend with “family honor” to that degree. The only people I knew who were raised under those guidelines were very wealthy. Their marriage was preordained and was essentially a marriage of finance. In that time period, women went to the university, not to gain a career, but to find a suitable husband. Usually, marriage was on the verge of being 100% arranged by the parents. Families introduced their children to one another and saw to it that relationships flourished. “Romance” was more an after thought for those born of wealth. For the rest of us, it was more a matter of “don’t be stupid, and don’t get caught.” In other words keep your hind end out of jail. I tried raising my children with higher expectations. Still, liberalism gets in the way. Not “liberalism” like in Europe where “conservatives” hoard all of the power, growing government by minimizing the rights of the individual. No, American “Liberalism” where lunacy reigns supreme at the expense of freedom and liberty. In my house, I married up. She was born of wealth and privilege. I was born dirt poor (literally). She had maids, gardeners, and house keepers. I had the $100 “wonder car” You always had to wonder if you would make it to where ever it was you were going. Being mechanically inclined, we’d take those $100 cars and fix them up and the street race. We also would go to the watering hole on the back pasture, have a bonfire and proceed to get drunk until the cops arrived. We’d scatter, get into a chase and drive off into a corn field, get far enough ahead that we could then throw the car in reverse, backing around a few minutes and then get out and sit on the roof, watching the local cops tear up the field following the paths we’d made. It wouldn’t take long for them to realize the fun, stop, climb out and stand up so they could see where we were and then give chase again. The next day, they’d show up at the coffee shop in town, lay an ear of corn in front of the old man (dad), then, in front of all of his coffee swilling buddies (the coffee clutch bunch), tell him to go square up with the owner of the corn field they’d torn up the night before. Those days are gone. Today’s cops just shoot you. No questions asked. Dad taught me to drive offensively (he was a driving coach for many Indy 500 drivers who went on to win). As much as I wanted to teach mine, I couldn’t. Instead, I had to teach them that you can’t outrun a Motorola (radio used in squad cars). Don’t get caught.

So, my daughter, the former Hollywood actress, now on Broadway is talking marriage - to another woman. She was raised in the church. She was taught right from wrong. Family honor? Liberalism has taken charge. She has not yet decided whether or not she’s going to Christmas Eve service. What happened to the days when she was the choir director of the church she attended? Marriage? So, she’s good with riding a rubber strap on for the rest of her life? Rejecting the real deal for fake? I’m struggling here. It’s not my life. I don’t have to live it. Yet I’m going to be directly effected by the consequences of her choices? Reading that last sentence, spell check has underlined the word “effect”. I’m old school. The difference per the older definition which has apparently changed because the idiots are too stupid to know and learn the difference, is that “affect” is an emotion caused by “effect”. Effect is the action which causes the feeling (good, bad, or indifferent), the feeling: affect. So, two lesbians decide to wed. Which “father of the bride” pays for the wedding? Her “husband” is joining us in a few days, going on a New Years cruise with us. It was supposed to be family but the wife of the oldest soon is weeks away from delivering grand baby number two. The tickets already purchased, non refundable, now excludes him, her and the grand baby. So, daughter is bringing her significant other and son number two is bringing along a friend.

I’ve not yet been told directly about the intent to marry. I read lips relatively well. There are often times when I am present that they intentionally exclude me from the conversations. Nice. Silly them. They think I don’t catch on. I do catch on. What I don’t is understand. Apparently I am not to be trusted. No one is asking my opinion. Even if they were to ask, I’m not so sure I would give it.

I had a friend once, he was from India. A doctor of Pharmacology. Here in the US, his degree didn’t transfer. He took his money and bough an ice cream store franchise which is how we met. I’d bring my family and the neighborhood kids to get ice cream. His was an arranged an arranged marriage. Asked him about that, he responded by asking/pointing out “Who knows you better than your parents? And who wants you to succeed in life, more than your parents?” Last week we covered Genesis, chapter 24in class. Abraham, knowing his time on earth is near, decided it was time for his son (40+ years old) to marry. He did not discuss it with his son. Instead, he gave his chief servant specific instruction to go to a specific town, and bring back a suitable wife. Can you imagine? Sight unseen, no idea whether or not she was raised in a good family or an abusive one. Looks were not the most important thing listed in this endeavor. And when the servant found what he believed was a good match per that specific list, the deal was struck with the girl/woman’s father. The men were kind enough to ask her if she would go. She did not object. She hasn’t seen her new husband and knows nothing of his character or upbringing. What an adventure! With my friend the ice cream store owner, he said love would grow. It’s a learned thing, not necessarily a feeling. Effect v. Affect. I know my daughter likes men AND women. That’s been clear for a long time. Still, I’d hoped and believed that she would realize that opposites attract. You cannot force like poles of two magnets together. It just doesn’t work.

[gobboguy]

Chapter 50: Together in the Dark

As dawn broke, Ulf and Hate found themselves skirting the edge of the Underking’s bleak domain. They treaded carefully, moving through the last traces of Sidhedark’s underground beauty: towering trees, lush grass, and a trickling river that seemed vibrant even in this shadowed world. But just beyond them, the landscape twisted, morphing into a sickly land where trees lay gnarled and lifeless, grass was decayed to a brittle yellow, and stagnant pools shimmered with pollution. The air itself felt heavy, reeking of rot and thick enough to turn her stomach.

At the heart of this desolate land, Ulf’s gaze fixed on the distant tower, its silhouette framed by a black flag with the green hand emblazoned proudly against the sky—the banner of the Orcs, now tainted under the Underking’s rule. She gritted her teeth, swallowing her disgust as she thought of how the flag, which once stood for unity and strength, now flew under this shadow.

They walked in silence for a time, but the grim mood lifted a little as Hate broke the silence with stories from his youth. Ulf listened, enraptured, as he told of the years he’d spent as a mercenary, clearing out dungeons for the Dominion. His stories were peppered with fierce battles, narrow escapes, and tales of the respect he’d won for his prowess. There was pride in his voice, a warrior’s satisfaction in each detail.

When he paused, Ulf shared memories of her own, speaking of her childhood in Cairn Doom, the holy city of the Orcs. Her voice softened as she spoke of being trained there, her calling as the Orc-Saint woven into her very being. She talked about her mother, Queen Ionia, the strength of her rule, and her own sense of duty to the people of Gelberg, where she’d been crowned princess.

With each tale shared, a warmth grew between them, woven out of shared histories and mutual respect. They spoke as comrades, each realizing how their pasts—so different yet bound by Orcish pride—had led them both to this moment, skirting the borders of life and death, as they prepared for what lay ahead.

As they walked along the twisted landscape, Hate cast a sidelong glance at Ulf, his brow furrowing in thought. “What’s it like, living as a princess? Trying to balance all the warbands—their needs, their pride. Seems a life full of honor, but no easy path.”

Ulf’s face softened, though her gaze was distant. “It’s… a challenge,” she admitted. “Each warband has its own heart. Some are eager for battle, almost restless for the next fight. Others live by the teachings of MOG, wanting to stay close to the old ways. And then there’s the seafaring warbands—like Sudbad’s—they look at things differently still. Keeping them all together, all on the same path, it can feel like trying to keep a fire from turning into an inferno.”

She hesitated, her voice lowering as she added, “Sometimes, I wonder if I’m the right one to hold them all in balance.”

Hate nodded thoughtfully, then asked with a hint of gentleness, “And your blood? You must feel the pull of both sides—being half-human. That can’t be easy.”

Ulf’s expression flickered, her gaze dropping briefly. “No… it’s not,” she said, her tone quieter. “I’ve always felt the Orc blood most. I carry the Orcish spirit, the devotion to our people. But there are times… there are times I wonder what that other side means for me, for my strength, and if it could ever make me… less.”

Hate raised his brows, his voice steady. “No one would ever see you as ‘less,’ Ulf. Least of all the warbands. They revere you—Gelbeg’s daughter, Ionia’s heir. Bloodline doesn’t get much stronger.”

Ulf managed a small, grateful smile but looked away, the weight of something unsaid in her eyes. “I wish I could have known him,” she murmured after a moment. “Gelbeg. He died when I was barely a babe, just after a battle victory. But it was a human’s cowardice that took him down—a poison dart from the shadows.”

She shook her head, a faint sadness in her eyes. “He left before I could ever know him, and sometimes I wonder what he might’ve taught me. How he would’ve guided me, shown me the way to keep the warbands united.”

Hate’s gaze softened, understanding the ache beneath her words. “Seems to me, Ulf, you’re already finding your own way. And that’s strength.”

Ulf looked up at him, something lighter in her expression, a glimmer of quiet hope. “Maybe,” she said, managing a soft smile. “But it helps… knowing I’m not walking this path alone.”

Hate nodded, his own smile warm, and they continued on in a comfortable silence, both feeling a little more assured for the journey ahead.

As the day wore on and the twisted trees cast eerie shadows, Ulf kept her eyes on the distant tower, her heart surging with fresh hope. If they could press forward, beat back the minions of the Underking, and take that tower, then maybe—just maybe—they could defeat the Underking himself. And perhaps, for the first time in a long time, a true future for the Orcs was possible.

Hate’s voice broke her thoughts, light and teasing. “When we get back to Gelberg, I think I’ll make it my mission to visit every tavern in the city. Been fighting far too long. What about you, Ulf? Any grand plans?”

Ulf chuckled, her eyes brightening at the thought. “For starters, I’ll help my mother recover—she’s got a long road ahead of her. And after that?” She grinned, already imagining it. “I’m going straight to the Orcish Hall to feast. I’ll have heaps of fire-roasted mutton, bog boar haunches, lard-braised root slaw, honeyed wildberries, and deep-baked blood pudding with marrow gravy.”

Hate let out a low whistle. “Now that sounds like a feast fit for a warrior.”

Ulf shrugged, a spark of mischief in her eyes. “Maybe I deserve one, after all this.”

Hate rubbed his chin thoughtfully, a casual smile tugging at his lips. “Suppose you wouldn’t mind some company?”

She looked at him, her tone just as casual. “I think I’d like that.”

They exchanged a knowing smile before turning their eyes back to the trail, their steps lighter, their spirits alive with anticipation. The promise of victory—and, perhaps, a shared future—was something worth fighting for.

Hate cleared his throat and pointed off to the east where a large auspicious grove of tree was growing on an isolated butte. Ulf could see a small trail leading up the southeast end, a game trail which allowed access up to the top. "I found that last night while scouting and found something amazing there. Care to check it out?" Hate asked.

Ulf, intrigued, smiled and nodded enthusiastically. She was always up for adventure.

As night descended over the Underkingdom, Ulf and Hate stepped into the grove, where the air grew hushed and thick with an ancient, powerful presence. Ulf felt her breath catch as she looked around. These trees were unlike anything she had ever seen on the surface, their trunks so massive and gnarled they could have been the very pillars holding up the earth itself. Towering high into the darkness, their bark had a strange, iridescent sheen—a deep, midnight blue with veins of silvery green that caught the moonlight from the glowing central pillar in faint, glimmering patterns. Their limbs were adorned with leaves of gold, like sunlight captured and transformed. Each tree seemed alive with quiet wisdom, as if they had stood there since the dawn of the world, witnessing centuries of forgotten history.

The bark was rough but intricately textured, covered with a network of spirals and whorls that resembled carvings. Ulf couldn’t help but reach out, her fingertips brushing against it; the bark felt cool, smooth in some places and coarse in others, with tiny flecks of what seemed like quartz embedded within, catching the light in a subtle shimmer. The air was filled with a scent she couldn’t quite name—a heady blend of rich earth, distant rain, and the faint sweetness of dried herbs. It was as if the very essence of the forest lingered here, undisturbed by time.

A soft babbling brook wound through the grove, its water clear as crystal and dancing over smooth stones in gentle, whispering currents. It wove through moss-covered banks, where tiny white flowers bloomed, their petals glowing faintly in the dim light. The sound of the brook melded with the occasional creak of ancient wood and the soft rustling of leaves high above, creating a symphony of quiet, reverent sounds.

Hate and Ulf moved slowly, reverently, as if any loud noise might break the spell of this hidden sanctuary. Hate, usually jovial and loud, seemed almost subdued, glancing at the trees with a rare look of awe. Ulf's heart swelled as she took it all in, her spirit lifted by the profound beauty and mystery of this ancient place. Here, under the towering trees that seemed to reach beyond even the Underkingdom’s stone ceiling, she felt a rare peace, a reminder that something sacred had endured through ages of turmoil.

Together, they walked deeper into the grove, feeling, if only for a moment, that they had stepped into a place untouched by mortal strife, a world where the very earth sang of its own quiet strength.

Ulf knelt beside the cool, clear brook, dipping her hands into the waters and bringing them to her lips. The first sip sent a surge of energy through her—more than mere refreshment; it was as if the very essence of Sidhedark pulsed within this grove. She closed her eyes, feeling a deep, almost visceral connection to the earth, to the roots that held it all together, and to MOG, the ancient spirit of the Orcs.

With quiet reverence, she raised her hand to make the sign of MOG, her voice low and steady as she offered her prayer.

“Mighty MOG, Lord of our strength, spirit of our blood, I give thanks for this sacred place hidden in the depths of Sidhedark. In this grove, you have revealed your power, the power that moves beneath the stone and holds the land together. Here, where the earth whispers and the waters run pure, we find the strength you grant to your kin. May this place forever bear witness to our kinship with the earth, a testament to the Orcs who came before and the ones yet to come.”

She paused, feeling the weight of her words settle into the air.

"By this sign, by this claim, I name this grove Ghâshlok—Sanctuary of Fire and Stone. Let it be a place of legend among the Orcs, a place where the blood of our ancestors runs deep in the roots and the strength of MOG lives in every leaf and stone."

Ulf stepped forward into the brook, feeling the cool rush of water as it rose to her waist, crisp and bracing against her skin. She knelt, lowering herself deeper, letting her armor slip to her knees in reverent, unhurried movements. She exhaled, settling into the water with a steady gaze, feeling a profound sense of connection to the grove and the spirit of MOG. With quiet purpose, she relieved herself, her actions marking the waters as distinctly Orcish. As the warmth spread around her, defiling the waters, Ulf marked this place in the ancient Orc way. This act, both natural and ceremonial, was her way of claiming the grove for her people, of imprinting an unspoken vow that this place would forever hold the spirit and strength of the Orcs.

As she turned back, she caught a fleeting look on Hate’s face—a shadow of something unspoken, some deeper thought or worry. He quickly masked it, his expression shifting back to his usual stoic pride, but Ulf sensed there was something he held back. For now, though, she chose to let it pass, letting her gaze linger on the grove that would carry the spirit of the Orcs forever.

As Ulf stepped out of the water, Hate extended a hand to help her up. She took it, but the slippery rocks betrayed her, and she stumbled forward—straight into his arms. For a heartbeat, they froze, close enough to feel the warmth of each other's breath, the cool night air charged with the tension between them. Ulf’s gaze locked on his; her heart pounded wildly as she took in the rugged lines of his face, his polished tusks, the devilish grin that softened the bulk of his sturdy frame. She swallowed, cheeks flushing. "Do you intend on letting me go anytime soon?" she murmured.

Hate’s voice was steady and low, a smoldering rumble. "I’ll let you go when the time is right."

A thrill ran down her spine as she bit her lip, trying to hold onto some semblance of composure. Her heart betrayed her, thundering in her chest. He was so…handsome, so solid. Everything about him—from his thick, strong arms to the wicked charm of his smile—drew her in. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to look away. "I can stand on my own, you know. I don’t need your help. Besides…going any further would just complicate things." She trailed off, her eyes darting back to his. But before she could finish, Hate leaned down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was unmistakably Orcish—fierce and full of fire. Their tusks brushed and pressed together, adding a delicious roughness to the kiss. Her own tusks met his, a heady spark surging through her as they embraced.

When they finally broke apart, Hate’s voice was husky, his eyes searching hers. "Does this complicate things?"

Ulf’s breath was ragged, her words caught between exhilaration and inevitability. She hadn’t planned this, but as her heart pounded, she knew—she had chosen him. Laughing softly, she pulled him close again, her voice teasing, "Well, maybe I’m in the mood for a little complication." With a happy oink, she kissed him again, deeper this time, savoring the raw connection between them, the tension melting into something fierce and true.

[maximumthehormonereplacement]

08/12/91 8:00 AM // LAT: 40.57n LONG: -75.60w

❤️‍🔥🌺🦊

Some important terms to keep in mind:

Element; each sign falls under one the four elements—fire, water, ground, and air. Fire and water are the two most powerful and potentially detrimental forces of nature. Ground and air can be equally powerful but are more-so chain reactions and/or catalysts to fire and/or water.

Associated Animals; This is heavily debatable and interpreted like everything else, but generally speaking Native American tribes (and through internet research alone it doesn't specify what tribes actually follow this) associate each zodiac with an animal totem. Leo is represented by The Salmon Totem (how silly!!!!)

Big Three; when people talk about their zodiacs they will often refer to "the Big Three," which references your Sun (identity), Moon (emotions), and Rising (your ascended state of consciousness.) There are 24 houses in a full natal chart—I myself tend to focus on the big three, Venus, Mars, and Lilith, but each planet has a placement in your chart, as well as there being 12 houses that show how these placements play into each other. I am only really just starting to get deeper into astrological study so I am still researching and learning about the other planets such as Mercury, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune and Pluto and how they affect different parts of your personality, but all of them are still very important and I implore you to look into them too to learn even more about your strengths and weaknesses!

Modalities; each sign falls into a modality which details feminine, masculine, or androgynous traits of the signs.

{

Cardinal- leaders of their element, androgynous in the sense that they harness both masculine and feminine balance in their approach to conflict resolution and situations. Generally mediators.

Mutable- elements that are most prone to evolution and growth, and being manipulated, generally conflict resolvers, feminine

Fixed- elements that are confident yet stuck in their ways, more prone to being manipulators, generally conflict instigators, masculine }

☀️ The sun sign, what most people call "their zodiac" tells us about our identity and role in the universe. Your sun is in Leo, the fixed, powerfully present, 5th masculine fire sign. Leos are represented by a lion; and although lions are culturally associated with leadership and strength, the constellation itself depicts the big cat on its hind legs with his paws in the air, batting at the surrounding Cancer to the east and Virgo to the west, indicating a less fierce and more playful nature. Leo does not fall under any planet, but a celestial body; the most important in our solar system—the sun! The sun, in astrology, rules our true identities and paths in life. Leos are the most masculine and fiery signs of the zodiac, so it makes sense that the sun, with its vitality (and tendency to be harmful with prolonged exposure) and its long spiraling rays, would be representative of a lion's mane. Biblically speaking, God, if He had been defined by limits of humanity, such as birthdays, would best be represented as a Leo, with His Mother Mary Virgo to the right of Him. Although interpretations of God's behavior vary from denomination to denomination, (and the fact that, once again, God can't be comprehended through a human brain) the Old Testament— a heavily misinterpreted astrological text—depicts God as All-Knowing, All-Powerful, and Correct, God is indeed depicted as enraged. The word "holocaust" comes from the German word "God's wrath/fire" and the Hebrew word which means "a burnt offering." In several cultures that honor a God, ritualistic sacrifices may depict something of importance/divinity being burned. On the opposing side, God's son is depicted as being all-forgiving, and associated with fish, wine, holy water, etc, because Jesus has something that God does not, and that is half of humanity. This is all a long round about way of saying, it is commonly believed (but not without controversy, considering some sects disparage astrology as being satanic) at least in the Old Testament, that God would be a Leo, Mother Mary a Virgo, and Jesus a Pisces (there's more on this of course, considering Catholics and Western Christian sects celebrate December 25th Christmas, which would make Jesus a Capricorn, but Eastern Orthodox Christianity/Judaism/Old Testament's calendar would have Jesus born in Pisces season...)

Domesticated cats, they say, are not quite domesticated—not like dogs at least. Dogs were trained and bred to be companions to humans. Cats, on the other hand, formed a symbiotic relationship with humans in the sense of "oh cool house you got. I'm gonna move in and eat the pests in it for you" and humans were like "aight." But regardless, all cats come from big felines—lions, tigers, lynx, jaguar, cheetah, etc. etc... The reverse side is true. While it is not advised (if you are in a country that has big cats) to go up to a lion and go "here kitty, kitty!!!" and try to touch it, many big cats will generally leave people alone unless they feel threatened, and in fact, purr like house cats, play like a house cat would, and lick and groom their pack members like a house cat might do to a human or another kitty/pet they trust. All of this is to say that while Leos can be known for intimidation and hostility and temperament, they are also more well known for spunkiness, performance, positive and silly energy, and overall friendliness. Just don't keep bothering them when they start hissing and puffing up!

🌙 The moon tells us our deepest emotions and how we react in times of stress or conflict. Your moon is in Virgo, the Mutable, Grounded Virgin Mother. This is an extremely powerful placement to have in your big three, as the Virgo transcends several religions as to why she does what she does. "Hail Mary full of grace..... SMACK THE BITCH IN THE FACE, TAKE HER GUCCI BAG AND HER NORTH FACE—" Like a mother who wants the best for her child, Virgo tries a calculated mix of discipline and love to resolve conflicts, and regardless if she's angry, sad, or happy, everything the Madonna does is out of pure unconditional love. But, like any mom who lives under the doctrine of "mother knows best," Virgo can often fail to comprehend the fact that she's not ALWAYS right and this is an internal struggle for her. Sometimes her emotions are so grounded that she struggles with understanding the emotional depth of her children. In conflicts, Virgo will always try to mediate and resolve the solution "by any means necessary" which sometimes involves yelling and scolding and other times involves warmth and reassurance. Everything the Moon Virgo does, though, is intentional and for The Greater Good. In trine with a Masculine Leo Sun, the Feminine Virgo Moon may clash internally about what the right course of action is, but with work, the two can work together to find a common ground balance of discipline and love, like a set of parents; and, more often than not, since Ground puts Fire out, your Moon in Virgo will generally overrule the sometimes uncontrolled temperment of your Leo Sun.

♀ Venus is the feminine planet that determines how we present ourselves aesthetically and the styles of love we exhibit to others in intimate relationships. Your Venus finds itself again in Virgo, Aphrodite's ruling planet and the non-biblical depiction of the Virgo herself. A Virgo Venus's outer style is well-kept and inviting. Others may flock to her because she is just genuinely beautiful and a piece of eye candy. She doesn't dress particularly flashy, but she doesn't need to—Virgo stands out with pure charm more than anything. She is extremely charismatic and despite wearing a generally more modest style, still has plenty of people who crush on her simply for the energy she exudes when wearing anything. In romantic relationships, Venus Virgo is as loving as a mother. The dichotomy of discipline versus praise is still there, but more often than not, a Virgo wants to just snuggle her partner and shower them with compliments to boost their confidence, and because making others feel good, makes Virgo feel good. With this, a Virgo may also push their romantic partner to what she believes they are capable of, which may come off as smothering if the advice is unsolicited; regardless, Venus Virgo's intentions in an intimate partnership are as pure as the Madonna herself, and she wants to give her partner freedom to be themselves while also pushing them to be better versions of whoever they currently are.

♂ Mars is the masculine planet that determines our anger and sex, two passionate expressions that are really two sides of the same coin. Your Mars is in Virgo! Virgo is a very dominant placement in your chart. This makes you a very collected, loving and calculated person. But since Mars is the planet of more passionate emotions, such as anger and sexual desire, Virgo plays a very... interesting role. Have you ever argued with your mom? How did that go for you? This may be one of your more challenging placements. Virgos are so calculated and generally know the course of how situations will go (and she plans for everything) that when unexpected something throws her for a loop, she freaks. Mars Virgo doesn't like to be questioned or disrespected—all that warm motherly love will go right out the window the minute you suggest something could be wrong with the way she's thinking. Mars Virgo IS usually right, but she needs to learn to accept that when she isn't, it's not cause for panic, and that different perspectives don't necessarily mean an argument has to happen. The Mother wants to take care of everyone, but that care can turn into control and when someone doesn't take her advice, it can turn ugly. In sexual life, Mars Virgo is a giver. She loves to please and since she is mutable, she can adapt to her partner's different sexual desires. This can cause a bit of a struggle with your Leo Sun, who is fixed and more dominant, and wants to take a leadership role during sex. Your Leo Sun will dominate passionately during sex, but Mars Virgo will routinely check to make sure her partner is actually enjoying the dominance and that they're OK, and offer cuddles and sweetness when both her and her partner have finished.

⚸ Lilith is represented by the dark side of the moon, the dark side of our inner emotions and what we can work on to ascend to our rising sign. Your Lilith is in Capricorn, the cardinal grounded seagoat. Typically, a Capricorn Sun is known for their silliness and seriousness when needed. They are able to juggle between the two. But Lilith Capricorn is stuck between a rock and a hard place; fixated on their inner loneliness and thus reacts by wiping off their clown makeup and putting on a scary face. Lilith Caps can be very dangerous to themselves and others. Caps are the natural jesters of the zodiac, but another word for the jester tarot is “the fool.” And Lilith Cap is getting real tired of being treated like the fool. They start to feel as if people aren’t laughing WITH them, but rather AT them; and this shifts the Cap to cut off its own tail and ground themselves completely and start RAMMING AND SCREAMING! That’s what goats do, after all, when they feel threatened. This is when you can turn to the confidence of your Leo Sun and Virgo placements to calm yourself down. So what if people laugh at you, with you, whatever? Leo Sun will assure that most are jealous/bitter of the warmth you naturally exude, and Virgo will hug and pep talk Lilith Cap to remind them that it doesn't matter what people think anyway, as long as you are OK with yourself—and Leo Sun and Virgo placements are quite OK with themselves. With the fiery lion and grounded mother guiding Lilith Cap, the goat mermaid can piece their tail back together and ascend to their highest state of consciousness....

🌟 From the clam shell positioned on the shores of the ocean arises your Rising Virgo ♡ Our rising sign is how others perceive us, and who we have the potential to be. It can also contribute to some of our physical attributes. Virgo DOMINATES your major placements, so not much more needs to be said about why this is such an important placement for you. You are a feisty, confident sun sign by destiny, but your emotions and love life are more grounded, meaning you calm yourself down and have a level head on your shoulders. With Virgo Rising, others perceive you as charismatic and doting—a Good Mommy. In conjunction with your other Virgo placements and Leo Sun, you are a very parental, loving person who would do anything to help anyone, as long as you are shown respect and love in return. In terms of physical appearance, Rising Virgos tend to have pointed noses, curved lips, clear, soulful eyes and a very bright demeanor. So here we are! You have one fierce Lion nudging his Lilith Cap back up on their feet; being doted on by your surrounding Madonnas.

[dfroza]

Today’s reading from the ancient books of Proverbs and Psalms

for june 15 of 2024 with Proverbs 15 and Psalm 15, accompanied by Psalm 89 for the 89th day of Astronomical Spring, and Psalm 17 for day 167 of the year (with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 2nd revolution this year)

[Proverbs 15]

A tender answer turns away rage,

but a prickly reply spikes anger.

The words of the wise extend knowledge,

but foolish people utter nonsense.

The Eternal can see all things;

His gaze is fixed on both the evil and the good.

A word of encouragement heals the one who receives it,

but a deceitful word breaks the spirit.

Fools refuse their parents’ guidance,

but sensible children accept correction.

Great treasure may be found where the right-living make their home,

but trouble awaits the wicked at every turn.

When the wise speak, knowledge spreads far and wide,

but fools care nothing about such matters.

When the wicked offer sacrifices, they disgust the Eternal,

but the prayers of those who do right are a pleasure to Him.

The lifestyle of the wicked is repulsive to Him,

while those who do right delight Him.

Harsh punishment is waiting for those who reject the path of life,

and those who hate correction will die.

The grave and destruction are fully exposed before the Eternal;

how much more does He know the thoughts of Adam’s children!

Those who mock others don’t like being corrected,

so they keep their distance from the wise.

A warm, smiling face reveals a joy-filled heart,

but heartache crushes the spirit and darkens the appearance.

Those who have understanding hearts hunger after knowledge,

but those with no understanding feast on foolishness.

The poor and oppressed suffer hardship day after day,

but those with kind hearts continually feast.

It is better to live with less and honor the Eternal

than to have riches and carry the burdens that come with them.

Better to eat only vegetables served lovingly

than a fattened ox served hatefully.

A hot-headed person stirs up trouble,

but one with patience settles a fight.

Lazy people walk a path overgrown with thornbushes,

but those with integrity travel a wide, level road.

A wise child makes his father happy,

but a foolish man despises his mother.

Foolishness brings sheer joy to those who have no sense,

but people with insight steer a straight course through life.

Plans fall apart without proper advice;

but with the right guidance, they come together nicely.

There is great joy in having the right answer,

and how sweet is the right word at the right time!

For the wise the road of life climbs up steep grades

in order to avoid the slide down to the grave.

The Eternal splinters the house of the haughty,

but He secures the property of widows.

The thoughts of the wrongdoers repulse the Eternal,

but kind words are pure pleasure for Him.

Those who take illegal gains injure their families,

but those who refuse a bribe will live in peace.

The right-living think before they speak,

but wrongdoers simply spew evil.

The Eternal stays far from the wrongdoers,

but He listens to the prayer of the right-living.

Bright eyes and a cheerful expression bring joy to the heart,

and good news revives the spirit and renews health.

Those who learn from the lessons of life

will join the others who are wise.

Those who disregard discipline sabotage themselves,

but those who are open to correction gain understanding.

Reverence for the Eternal is the first lesson of wisdom,

and humility always precedes honor.

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 15 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

It is ironic that we may have more to fear from the proud and powerful than from the poor and needy. Those who have want more, and so they take it. Oh, maybe they won’t pick your pocket or break into your home. Their ways are more subtle and more effective. As James, Jesus’ brother, wrote, “Isn’t it the rich who step on you while climbing the ladder of success? And isn’t it the rich who take advantage of you and drag you into court?” (James 2:6b). James isn’t describing all the rich, of course, but many have made their fortunes off the backs of others. God is the One who can protect the poor, the One who can reduce the grand houses of the haughty to splinters.

[Psalm 15]

A song of David.

Eternal One, who is invited to stay in Your dwelling?

Who is granted passage to Your holy mountain?

Here is the answer: The one who lives with integrity, does what is right,

and speaks honestly with truth from the heart.

The one who doesn’t speak evil against others

or wrong his neighbor,

or slander his friends.

The one who loathes the loathsome,

honors those who fear the Eternal,

And keeps all promises no matter the cost.

The one who does not lend money with gain in mind

and cannot be bought to harm an innocent name.

If you live this way, you will not be shaken and will live together with the Lord.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 15 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

A recurring theme in the psalms is the dwelling place of God and its importance in worship. This Davidic psalm considers the moral qualities of the person who wishes to approach God.

[Psalm 89]

A contemplative song of Ethan the Ezrahite.

I will sing of Your unfailing love, Eternal One, forever.

I will speak of Your faithfulness to all generations.

I will tell how Your unfailing love will always stand strong;

and how Your faithfulness is established in the heavens above.

You said, “I have made a covenant with My chosen one.

I made My servant, David, this promise:

‘I will establish your dynasty

so that you and your descendants will always be secure.

Your rule will continue for generations to come.’”

[pause]

Let the heavens join in praising the wonderful works of the Eternal.

The holy ones have gathered, singing of Your faithfulness.

For there is no one above who compares to the Eternal,

not one of heaven’s creatures is like Him in the least.

In the council of holy ones, God is lifted high and feared;

His presence overwhelms all who are near Him.

O Eternal God, Commander of heaven’s armies,

who is mighty like You?

You are completely faithful; that’s why we trust You.

The ocean waters are at Your command.

When violent waves rise up, You still them.

You defeated Rahab, that ancient monster of chaos,

and left it lifeless.

You routed Your enemies and scattered them by Your great arm of power.

Everything in the sky above and the earth below are Yours.

The world and all it contains are Yours, for You created them all.

Everything was created by You—the north, the south—

the mountains of Tabor and Hermon echo joyously the song of Your name.

Your arm is strong.

Your grip is powerful.

Your right hand is raised up high.

Your rule is rooted deeply in justice and righteousness—

unfailing love and truth lead from the way ahead of You.

How happy are those who have learned how to praise You;

those who journey through life by the light of Your face.

Every hour of the day, they rejoice at the sound of Your name.

They are lifted up and encouraged by Your righteousness.

For You are the beauty of their strength.

On account of Your favor, our strength, our horn, is increased.

For our shield of protection comes from the Eternal,

and the Holy One of Israel has given us our king.

Long ago You spoke through a vision to Your faithful followers, saying,

“I have given help to a warrior;

I have chosen a hero from among My people.

I have found David, My servant.

With My holy oil, I have anointed him king.

My strong hand will stay with him and sustain him, regardless of trial or foe.

My mighty arm will be his strength and shield.

The deceit of his enemies will not outwit him.

The wicked will not defeat him.

I will pound his enemies right in front of him.

I will strike down all those who hate him.

My faithfulness and unfailing love will never leave him;

through My name, strength and power will be his.

I will extend his rule over the oceans,

his right hand will control the rivers.

He will cry out to Me, ‘You are my Father,

my God, and the Rock of my salvation!’

I will make him My firstborn;

no earthly king shall be greater.

My unfailing love will always be with him, protecting him;

My covenant with him will never be broken.

I will ensure his family’s future forever;

his dynasty will last as long as the heavens.

If his children turn away from Me and forsake My law,

if they refuse to walk according to My judgments,

If they disobey My instructions

and ignore My commandments,

Then I will use the rod to punish their sins

and stripes to deal with their iniquity.

And yet My unfailing love of him will remain steadfast and strong.

I will not be unfaithful to My promise.

I will not violate My covenant,

nor will I alter even one word of what My lips have spoken.

These words I have pledged in My holiness once and for all,

and I will not lie to David.

As long as the sun lights the day before Me, his descendants will continue to rule.

His kingdom will last forever.

His dynasty will stand firm for all time like the moon,

the faithful witness that stands watch in the night sky.”

[pause]

But what now? You have turned Your back and walked away!

Your full fury burns against Your anointed king.

You made a covenant with Your servant, then renounced it,

casting his sacred crown into the dust.

You have broken down the walls that protected Your servant;

his defenses are reduced to a pile of rubble.

Strangers now plunder all that he has left;

he has become a laughingstock among his neighbors.

You have made his adversaries strong.

His enemies celebrate their victory.

You have dulled the blade of his sword,

and You have not helped him stand strong in the battle.

You have brought his days of splendor to an abrupt end;

You have toppled his throne;

it sits in the dust.

You have cut short the days of his youth

and have covered him with shame and despair.

[pause]

How long must we endure, O Eternal One?

Will You hide Yourself forever?

How long will Your wrath burn like fire?

Remember my days are numbered.

Have You created the children of Adam to live futile lives?

Death waits at the gate; who can escape and live?

Does the grave hold exceptions for any of us?

Who can deliver us from the power of the grave?

[pause]

O Lord, where is the unfailing love You showed in times past?

And where is the proof of Your faithfulness to David?

Remember how Your servants are ridiculed, O Lord;

how I carry within me the insults of so many peoples.

Your enemies are mocking me, O Eternal One,

mocking every step Your anointed one made.

Praise the Eternal always. Amen. Amen.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 89 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Psalm 89 begins on a note of praise and ends with a lament. The heart of this psalm recalls God’s choice of David as king and God’s covenant with him to establish an eternal dynasty (2 Samuel 7).

[Psalm 17]

A prayer of David.

Listen, O Eternal One, to my cry for justice.

These words of mine are true—turn Your ear toward me.

Announce that I am free of all the charges against me—only You can see into my heart to know that to be true.

Treat me with fairness; look at me with justice.

You have searched me—my heart and soul—awakened me from dreaming and tested me.

You’ve found nothing against me.

I have resolved not to sin in what I say.

The path violent men have followed,

I will not travel. Violence is not my way.

Your ways and Your voice now guide my journey.

I will press on—moving steadfastly forward along Your path.

I will not look back. I will not stumble.

I am crying aloud to You, O True God, for I long to know Your answer.

Hear me, O God. Hear my plea. Hear my prayer for help.

Put Your marvelous love on display for all to see.

Liberator of those who long for shelter beside You,

set them safely away from their enemies, ever welcomed by grace.

Keep close watch over me as the apple of Your eye;

shelter me in the shadow of Your wings.

Protect me from the wicked who are poised to attack,

from the enemies swarming around me and closing in quickly.

Like clay baking in the sun, their hearts have hardened;

arrogance spills from their mouths.

They’ve tracked me down like quarry.

They’re surrounding me

and are poised to throw me down into the dirt.

Like a lion—crouching in the brush—they are ready to tear me apart.

Like young lions in their hiding places, they are poised to strike.

Rise up and confront them, O Eternal One! Make them pay.

By Your sword, set me free from my wicked enemies!

May Your rescue find me here.

By Your hand, save me from my enemies, Eternal One.

Save me from men whose hopes are rooted in this world.

But as for those You cherish,

may they feast on all You have set aside for them;

may their children never be in need;

may they have enough so their children will inherit their wealth.

But as for me, my hope is to see Your face.

When I am vindicated, I will look upon the holy face of God,

and when I awake, the longing of my soul will be satisfied in the glow of Your presence.

The Book of Psalms, Poem 17 (The Voice)

[christian-perspectives]

Freedom From God For Everyone

God wants every person to experience His freedom. And everyone can because Jesus paid the price that God required. He gave his life to purchase freedom for everyone. This is the message God gave to the world at just the right time. 1 Timothy 2:6 God gave us freedom at just the right time. How do we know that? Because God’s timing always occurs at the right time. The question we must first entertain concerns the definition of freedom. In America, we live in the home of the brave and the land of the free. That freedom, however, didn’t come without a price. We celebrate days throughout the year to remember those killed and honor those who fought for our freedom. As much as we enjoy our freedom, that’s not what this verse is talking about. Let’s read the biblical definition of the freedom afforded us by God. Freedom in Christ is not the right to do what we want. But it gives us freedom to live in obedience to the will of God. Jesus replied, “I tell you the truth, everyone who sins is a slave of sin. So if the Son sets you free, you are truly free. John 8:34,36 Early on, the disciples thought that Jesus would free Israel from the bondage of the Roman Empire. But He came to free from sin those who call upon Him and give them eternal life.

The Freedom to Pray

Paul wrote to Timothy, encouraging him in light of the freedom we have from God to pray. I urge you, first of all, to pray for all people. Ask God to help them; intercede on their behalf, and give thanks for them. 1 Timothy 2:1 He needed, however, to also pray the same way for those in authority. In the Psalms, David often prayed that God would strike his enemies down. Now, we pray for and give thanks for them. Pray this way for kings and all who are in authority so that we can live peaceful and quiet lives marked by godliness and dignity. 1 Timothy 2:2 The apostle went on to say that it pleases God when we pray that way. He wants everyone to come to know Christ and to understand the truth. Because there’s only one path they can take. For, there is one God and one Mediator who can reconcile God and humanity—the man Christ Jesus. 1 Timothy 2:5 After you read the next verse, think about the tremendous spiritual impact that would happen across our nation. Especially if men from every church in America did what this verse says. In every place of worship, I want men to pray with holy hands lifted up to God, free from anger and controversy. 1 Timothy 2:8

Instructions for the Women

Paul also gave some instructions to the women as well. Keep in mind, though, that some of what he said addressed the culture of that day. But he also spoke to women of all cultures as well. And I want women to be modest in their appearance. They should wear decent and appropriate clothing and not draw attention to themselves by the way they fix their hair or by wearing gold or pearls or expensive clothes. 1 Timothy 2:9 Ok, ladies, before this becomes a turn-off to you, let’s look at what the apostle meant. He did not say you can’t dress stylishly, but he did begin the paragraph by emphasizing modesty. Neither did he say that you can’t fix your hair in a way that would add to your beauty. He didn’t say wearing nice jewelry in any form was off-limits. Paul didn’t emphasize any of those things. He said, don’t use them to draw attention to yourself. I want to share an example of an experience my wife and I had once. One day, a young lady came into the office for counseling. She was attractive, and she knew it. She told us she dressed and created an appearance so heads would turn her way. In fact, she was disappointed if men didn’t look at her. Reading a little further in this chapter, the apostle encouraged women to become attractive. But to do it by their devotion to God, not the way women of the world do. For women who claim to be devoted to God should make themselves attractive by the good things they do. 1 Timothy 2:10

Take Your God Given Freedom

In other words, God wants you to take your freedom in Him. Then, you can let your beauty shine through as you continue to live in faith, love, holiness, and modesty. When Paul wrote to the Galatian church, he spoke to them about our freedom in God. This time, he addressed the men and women together. For you have been called to live in freedom, my brothers and sisters. But don’t use your freedom to satisfy your sinful nature. Instead, use your freedom to serve one another in love. Galatians 5:13 We can easily lose our freedom if we decide to turn our backs on God. The following two verses tell us how we can keep our freedom and how we can lose it. - For the whole law can be summed up in this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.”But if you are always biting and devouring one another, watch out! Beware of destroying one another. Galatians 5:14-15  I like the way Galatians 5:1 began that chapter. And we will use that same verse to close our discussion here.  - So Christ has truly set us free. Now make sure that you stay free, and don’t get tied up again in slavery to the law. Galatians 5:1 Dear God, the enemy wants to rob us of the freedom we have in you. We pray that you will help us to make sure that we stay free. Check out these related posts about freedom - God Helps the Helpless and Sets Us Free - How To Be Free In Life Read the full article

[kcnrqz]

ESSAY

From Shame To Pride

Published in Celebrating Hope After Storm, The Indiependent Collective, May 2023

The first time another girl held my hand, I felt this wave of nausea wash over me, like I wanted to throw up. It was different from holding hands with my best friends—it was electric, and I knew it in my gut. I finally understood what it meant to have butterflies in my stomach, because it felt exactly that way. I felt kilig and excitement, but also confusion, guilt, and shame all at the same time.

I was sixteen then. Being a pastor's kid, I grew up in the church. During that time I was already part of a ministry and was leading worship services. I was also graduating from a science high school, always achieving the highest honors throughout my academic career. All my life, I was trying my best to live a straight life according to my beliefs.

From an early age, I believed that homosexuality is a sin, but my feelings left me at a crossroad—like one path leads to a life led by God and the other by sin. I felt so ashamed and guilty that I had a crush on a girl because I was straying away from God. Disgusted with myself, I vowed never to do it again and stay on the right path. I chose my faith.

Until I met another girl when I was nineteen and I fell in love with her. She was an activist and she spoke articulately and compassionately. She inspired me. But then the feelings of disgust, guilt, and shame came flooding once again. I was disappointed with myself because I couldn't keep my promise to the Lord. I felt unworthy of serving Him because I was soiled with sin.

It was the onset of my depression. I stopped attending classes, dragged myself to church, detached myself from my childhood friends. I felt worthless. I was punishing myself. I no longer wanted to live.

My mom noticed the changes in my mood and behavior. She sat me down in a heart-to-heart talk and I came out to her. I could see in her eyes that she was heartbroken from what I just told her. I was no longer her perfect child. She prayed for me, and in her prayers she asked the Lord to fix me and forgive me. She encouraged me to do the same, so that the Lord would help me get through "this phase." Then she told me not to tell my dad about this because we wouldn't know how he would react.

I wished to stop existing that day. I wasn't expecting that she would accept me right then and there, but I suppose I had hoped for a better reaction. I never saw her that sad my whole life and it broke me even more. I felt so alone.

The only ray of sunshine for me in what seemed to be months of darkness was whenever I would see the girl I had fallen in love with in college. She was what got me through attending classes that semester. I even joined her organization in hopes of having more time to spend with her. But to my disappointment, I found out that she already had a girlfriend. Of course I was heartbroken. But still, I was able to find love. It may not be from her, but I was lucky to have joined an organization where I found a family in the university—people who were open and understanding, who listened and empathized with me, who supported me in my struggle of finding myself. With them, there was no condemnation or judgment. I felt safe and that I no longer needed to lie or hide.

Because of them, I learned to be critical. I started to challenge the beliefs I held since I was young. I read and learned about sexuality, gender identity, and politics. I explored books, films, series, internet articles, whatever materials I could gather. I joined educational discussions, mobilizations, community integrations, and because of all of that I realized that I wasn't alone in my struggle, that there were many others like me who have been through the same situation, that my struggle with my identity was intersectional with the struggles of the marginalized in our society. That gave me a sense of belonging and a newfound purpose.

I shifted to another course. From taking up a pre-med course, I discovered my passion for the arts. If there was one thing I have learned from the church that stuck with me, it was being compassionate. I learned that I can make a difference in people's lives through art and other means. I finally thrived in college—my grades were good, I joined different organizations, began hosting a local radio program, became part of the student council, and eventually even had a girlfriend. 

My friends also urged me to seek professional help for my mental health, and I finally did. Therapy taught me how to process my thoughts and emotions and how to understand myself more. I developed a greater sense of self-compassion while recovering from the trauma caused by my family, church, and internal homophobia. 

It was a long road to finally accept myself for who I am. Breaking away from old ideas was a painful process because it was like chipping away parts of my old self to give way for growth. My recovery journey was an arduous one, like climbing the mountains with complex terrains, full of ridges and valleys and plateaus.

I can say that I am in a much better place now. I have learned to be kinder and more patient with myself and I have a loving partner (and a baby dog!), supportive friends, and a community that embraces me for who I am.

My parents are still conservative and in denial of my identity, but that's a battle for another day. I still go to church, mainly just to appease them and so that people won't talk behind their backs. However, I no longer let it affect me because I am confident and proud of what I have become.

[lionprotected]

"maybe not for them, but sure as hell for me. cars..." but he stopped himself, because no, this was not a car & he very much would like a car instead, but riders couldn't be taking cars hostage on their travels, so he was stuck with that old piece-of-crap cop bike nobody knew existed in the garage anymore until they searched for it, for him. it did its job most of the time & when it didn't... well, then it had reason. he assumed. "vehicles in general aren't my thing."

like today, maybe mother nature did this for a reason. maybe when he got home, he'd find something he didn't expect & ended up only finding it because he spent hours here at the auto shop. who could tell what their fate looked like, right? he sure as hell couldn't. because if he did, life would be.. different. probably. or maybe it'd go the exact same way, because there was a path for him, spun & weaved, just waiting to be treaded on. ryan believed in destiny.

he knew he was meant for this. his son, the town, good work, even better side work. he gave, it was just ... how he lived & that was okay. he wouldn't want an alpha in his home anyway, it wouldn't end well. unless it was angel bringing friends over, that... was okay. other than that? ryan had no plans whatsoever to change his life for one of them, not again - not ever. yes, he'd been blessed with his child's birth, but he wouldn't make the same mistake twice. or thrice. no, he was smarter than that.

never in a million years would he assume for his badge to work the opposite way of his intentions. it was a sign of honor, of loyalty to their home & the undying love he felt for their town & some of its inhabitants. yeah yeah, he protected alphas too if they needed it. at least this one could multi task. crack jokes & look over his bike. congrats, buddy, you're not a caveman. "it's drivin' okay?" yeah, he knew what that look meant, but he refused to accept it. the bike was fine. well, it had been until it wasn't. eyes trailed down to watch the man as he inspected his bike & he could not avert his eyes when he all but slapped it. did he have really big hands? or was that his imagination? those would probably would be able to wrap around his throat in its entirety.

clearing his throat, all ryan heard was fix & that sufficed, so he nodded in confirmation, because he definitely was the type of guy to appreciate good work done in his favor & only hesitated for the shortest of moments whether to share his name or not. he did, though, hesitate when it came to that hand. he'd be smelling that oil on his hands for a week at least & find dark stains everywhere. not the first time he was in that position, really. his white button-up didn't really make that decision any easier. hand hovered & he was sure it showed, but & it took him so incredibly much willpower to do it, he let their hands meet halfway, shaking it ...hesitantly. "estrada. i mean, ryan. ryan'll work." would be strange to call the other by his first name when ... it didn't work the other way around, too.

"new one ain't happenin', it's a miracle i got that one." & he didn't exactly have the funds to get a brand new one. new haven didn't exactly produce their own vehicles. "can't i just come back when it gives up again an' you do the same ...again?" not that he was eager to be back here, not at all. just ... couldn't they keep his bike running? soft sigh. "any chance you'd help me find a new one... somewhere?"

Hypocrisy, now, detective, doesn't get your bike fixed any sooner. All it takes is one Alpha treating you wrong and it has condemned you to a lifetime of... well, you. You knowww... You, and all that you are. Pretty little slutty papi thing, all Missus Superior and don't-want-no-Alpha-man [...] always the ones who blush n' plead the most in bed, just begging to be made a bride. An irreparable romantic who thought suppressants could supplement being in love. True? Nod yes & no in your subconscious, if the posturing facade won't allow you to speak up. Just don't stare at Oliver's hairy forearms as he pulls up his sleeves to get to workin' too long, or you might go mad.

"Hey, not true at all. I get folks here-and-there coming in for something they already know where n' when it went wrong, they just ain't got the tools to make it happen. Or the parts. Or the time. Or the patience. Orrr..." he's stalling, making a joke out of the very thing he's listing, just a criminal robbing Ryan of a few seconds of his time for a joke, just down there, squatting by Ryan's bike, cracking a grin at him. Haha, it's not like you mind being here a little longer, Detective. But... from down there, as Ryan poses trying to remain competitively afloat in this den of Alphahood that he calls a repair shop... he sees it, that shimmering badge on his hip. There's an immediate, but glimpse-brief snarl that is instantly suppressed--mountain lions don't lash out, they hate, they stalk, they pounce. Unseen. Clean. Without a trace. He certainly smiling, but he's working now, and it's like nothing's wrong in the world. Saw nothing, detective.

Perceptive eyes, dexterous hands. He's tinkering around with Ryan's ride, putting it to the test & measure with his devices, running diagnostics, listening for the sounds, the clanks. It's all very surgical, fascinating to watch, actually. Grew up around trucks and other large rigs, bikes in the Summer as folks went up the mountain to ride the wind. "Nothin' too critical?" He looks up from the bike, incredulous, greasy-to-ashen hands from handling it already. If this isn't critical, you can only imagine how the department treats its incarcerated population. "This here bike's begging for one last ride before you put her down, Sheriff. Haha, Jesus." He slaps twice down on the top of the bike's exhaust and any resemblance to slapping that ass is entirely of your own perversion, before lifting himself off the squat, hands on his knees, staining black prints on his already-dirty jeans. He begins to move inwards into his shop to pick up parts & tools for the job, but "I can, ah, Band-Aid her, now, but it ain't a fix. It'll run you just fine getting out of here, but, ah, Mr...?" He forgot to ask. But now that they will shake on an agreement to service, they can meet formally. Brows perked up and rough working oily hand outstretched in his direction. Don't be shy, it's more embarrassing if you don't shake it just cause it's dirty, sugar & silk princess. "It can't last. You'll need a new ride soon. I'm Oliver, by the way, now."

[jimblejamblewritings]

snow falls hot | part 5.

Summary: (Y/N) Snow isn’t a Snow at all. She’s a Targaryen— Rhaegar’s child. Taken in by the Starks, she leads her life as another on of Ned’s bastards. Will she be able to live in Westeros comfortably? More importantly, does she have any ambition to see herself one day on the Iron Throne?

Warnings: in this part none but this is game of thrones so…

Pairing: robb stark x reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

The heavy rain woke you up. You reached for your husband, eyes opening when you didn’t feel Robb in the bed. With little thought, you left the room in just a nightgown. The rain was chilling to the bone but the sight in front of you was what truly paralyzed you. Lord Karstark was kneeling over a block while Robb had a large sword in his hands— Edmure and Catelyn pleading with him. Karstark lifted his head.

“We are kin, would you really execute me?”

“Kin didn’t stop you from betraying me and murdering those boys. It will not stop me from executing you now.”

“It wasn’t meant to stop you. I hope it stays in your mind till the day you die. Lannister wears the badge Kingslayer, you will be known as a kinslayer. King in the North, huh. You are no king of mine.”

Robb didn’t flinch. “My father always said he who carries the sentence must swing the sword. Lord Karstark, for murder of the Lannister boys, I sentence you to die.”

Your eyes went wide and you gasped as the sword was brought down on Rikard Karstark’s neck. Robb, Edmure, and Catelyn looked over at the noise. The sword dropped from Robb’s hand as you shook your head and began to run back inside. You could hear his heavy boots as he chased after you. Robb caught up to you and grabbed your hand. He brushed the wet hair out of your face— you continued your head shaking and couldn’t look him in the face. Robb kept pleading and eventually your eyes met his.

“Was it worth it?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Was justice that important to you that you couldn’t keep Lord Karstark in prison? At least until we won?”

“He murdered those boys.”

“And you have lost half your men, Robb.”

“So I should have let him go unpunished? He sat for a fortnight in that dungeon, not ashamed at all of his crime.”

“You should have deferred his punishment. We need them, we are in a war.”

“War doesn’t mean we throw away our morals—”

“Are you so determined to die like Eddard!”

Robb got quiet. He couldn’t tell what were your tears versus what was the rain still on your face. You had never yelled at him. In a thousand years, he couldn’t remember a single moment that you had yelled at him. Even if annoyed. Your hand shook despite being covered by his.

“I watched Eddard’s head cut off by his own sword and then stuck on a pike like he was nothing. Your father died by honor, I will not watch you do the same. Do you hear me, Robb Stark?”

“I understand. I made a mistake, sometimes justice should wait. My mother and uncle were right as are you. I will fix this. I’ll find a way to form another alliance with Lord Frey, we’ll take Casterly Rock, and then… I will plead for the Karstarks to come back. Give them Casterly Rock if I must.”

“No more stupid decisions by honor.”

“No more mistakes by honor,” he conceded.

“Good. Because I cannot rule without you.”

“You won’t, beloved.” He kissed you sweetly. “You’re absolutely soaked. You need a fire before you get sick.”

You didn’t have a chance to protest before Robb picked you up bridal style. He passed Edmure and his mother on the way to the large hall.

“Send a raven to Frey’s sons. Have them meet with us to discuss a new alliance and Casterly Rock. Tell them to tell Lord Frey that none of his demands are too great. I apologize for his trust being lost in us but would like to make it right.”

Edmure nodded. “You sound like a true king now.”

“I should have listened to you and mother. Uncle Edmure, you are my hand of the king. Truly.”

“An honor so great. I will send the raven immediately.”

Edmure and Catelyn continued on their path as you and Robb continued yours. He set you down in front of the fire and then left for a moment. When he returned, Grey Wind and Godswood were with him— as well as Shadow flying in. Robb was also holding a pile of furs and a new gown. Despite seeing you undressed plenty of times, ever the gentlemen, Robb turned around to make a pallet of fur as you stripped off the nightgown and changed into the dress.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Robb said as he made the pallet. “When did you know how to use a sword? Or arrows for that matter? I saw the bow in our room.”

“Ser Jaime taught me while in King’s Landing.”

Robb stood up. “Jaime Lannister?”

“Are you jealous?” you asked with a mix of a smirk and an amused smile on your face.

“I am not jealous, I just don’t like the thought of the Kingslayer near you.”

“You don’t like the thought of him running his hands down my arms as he showed me the proper technique.” You mimicked your words with action as you let your hands dance along Robb’s arms and shoulders.

“If you wanted to learn, you could’ve asked me years ago in Winterfell.”

“I don’t know, I learned a lot from Ser Jaime. He was really informative on how to handle a sword.”

Robb gave a dry laugh. “You are asking for trouble, Targaryen.”

“St—”

“Stark.” Robb cut you off. “Targaryen Stark.”

He gave you a peck. “I have to go. I need to discuss more with the men left on how to fix my mistake. Will you be fine here?”

You nodded. “I will probably sleep again, maybe figure out reforms for when we take over?”

“That seems like a fantastic idea.”

Robb left and you laid down on the pile of furs. Grey Wind and Godswood curled up around you— Godswood behind and Grey Wind in front. Shadow tucked herself between the three of you in the small space above your head where Grey Wind and Godswood didn’t quite touch. You sighed as the fire warmed you and started to dry you off. Your eyelids got heavy and you slowly let them close.

The ruins of the tower looked less destroyed than last time. The book was still in the middle of the room although the pages seemed less damaged and torn. You took a step before a shadow casted over the place. Turning, you barely saw the flash of scales as a large dragon flew past the windows. You quickly ran down the stairs, ignoring the danger of going so fast, to try and chase after the creature. When you reached the bottom and entered the courtyard, the dragon was nowhere to be seen. You called out to it. Nothing.

You kicked a rock by your foot in frustration. Looking around, you realized something you didn’t notice the first time. Maester Luwin and Old Nan had told stories. Ned and Catelyn made sure you knew where you came from. You recognized the landscape— Old Valyria. But were you looking into the past or what was currently there? Were you even looking at the actual Valyria or a version of it that you created in your head? Starks were known to be of magic but Targaryens were as well. Your house escaped death in Valyria due to the dreams of Daenys Targaryen— she saw the Doom coming and instructed them to flee. Her magic dreams saved them. Magic was lost though. At one point, so were dragons. There was nothing more to think about but to just accept for now.

You almost jumped at the thumping behind you. When you turned, a large dragon was staring down at you. It resembled your Shadow— only much, much larger. The dragon bowed their head. You had to remind yourself that you couldn’t show fear as you extended a hand to pet their snout.

“Shadow?”

There was no reaction. The dragon wasn’t yours, at least not the one back in Riverrun. The dragon blinked and you felt nothing before staring at yourself. Just like with Shadow, you had warged into this dragon. You were pulled out before warging again. The dragon puffed out smoke from their nostrils when you could see through your own eyes again.

“(Y/N)?” you asked, tentatively.

The dragon nudged you with her snout. It didn’t make sense to you. How did the dragon share the same name as you? Before you could ask anything else, the ground shook and you almost lost balance as a second dragon landed followed by a third. Just as big as the one that shared your name, the other two looked at you expectantly. You petted them as well, expecting to warg into them but nothing happened. The other two circled and piled around the first dragon until it looked like one creature. A single creature with—

“The dragon has three heads,” you whispered.

That phrase, the unofficial words of your house. Your whisper seemed to set the dragons off. All three lifted their heads and were alert, aware of your presence once again. You were almost afraid to utter your next question but the large creatures looked at you as if they were begging you to say something.

“Am I not alone?”

A puff of smoke was the only thing you were granted from each of them. You needed to be clearer.

“Am I not the only Targaryen?”

You ducked as all three dragons blew fire into the air. In awe, you watched the large flames. Three concentrated streams of heat blazed over your head before stopping.

“Where are the others?” you asked with a buzz.

Your face fell as one dragon flew off followed quickly by the other. You looked expectantly at the (Y/N) dragon but she stayed. She stayed and slapped her back foot against the ground repeatedly before flying off herself— straight up in the air before being out of sight. You looked at the spot she had been slapping. Her claws had dug out parts of the soft stone— the ruined floor never stood a chance against her. The marks left behind looked like a very crude map of Westeros and another large island. You looked to the side where the first dragon flew off. In the exact direction of the other place.

“Essos?”

Turning your head, you kept your eye line in the direction of where the other flew off. It wasn’t to the west of Westeros. The other dragon flew off in the confines of the continent.

“The North? No, north of the North?” You laughed a little to yourself. “Right, Maester Aemon.”

A far away roar sounded.

“Am I wrong?” you yelled into the air.

Abruptly you were awoken, staring at the ceiling of Riverrun. Grey Wind lifted his head at your gasps and the way you sat up before settling himself down again. The three creatures were asleep around you. You stared at the fire that was still well lit— either Robb or someone else must have come by to add another log to it. It was stupid, you were aware, but you crawled towards the fire anyway. It didn’t burn when you stuck your hand in. You could have sworn you heard the familiar roar of the dragon you had just met— the sound gone when you pulled your hand away.

~~

Walder had sent his sons Lothar Frey and Black Walder— his bastard— to meet with you. Shadow stayed in the confines of you and Robb’s room. The rest of the Seven Kingdoms didn’t need to know so soon about the return of the Targaryens. You chewed on your lip, thinking of the risk that some Karstark men knew and you just had to hope they would keep your secret. Robb looked over the letter that they brought with them. He nodded along, not an ounce of protest on his face. The Frey brothers waited patiently, one picking at his nails.

“Tell Lord Frey we agree. Not only will I apologize here but when we win the Seven Kingdoms, I will apologize in front of all of Westeros. Harrenhal, its land, all of its income will be under House Frey.”

“And your uncle?” Lothar asked.

Edmure perked up at this. He grabbed the paper from Robb and quickly read over it. “I will not marry a woman I have never met.”

“Uncle, please.”

“Those are Lord Frey’s commands, he will not accept less,” Lothar pressed.

You placed a hand on Edmure’s shoulder.

“It isn’t ideal, I know. But please, we need this. Many a woman has been married to a man she didn’t know… I was to be promised to the Kingslayer to create a stronger alliance with the North and the Crown.”

Edmure made a face at that. He looked at you and then at Robb. Edmure even passed over Catelyn who, instead of being on his side, also offered sympathetic looks and pleading eyes.

“Is she beautiful at least?”

Black Walder shrugged. Edmure sighed but agreed anyway. You thanked him and so did Robb who swore he would owe his uncle for life. Robb sent the Freys ahead to inform Lord Walder of the agreement and the new alliance while you and Edmure gathered the men to tell them to prepare for leave. They moved quicker than you thought they would, most having experience quickly packing up a military camp. One last night at Riverrun and the camp set off.

The clear days quickly ended but you were only halfway to the Twins. With reluctance, Robb decided to camp it out. Most of the men agreed. Everyone would have rather continued but the mud was too high, the rain too harsh. It made more sense to camp in the less than ideal so they would be alive to make it to the Twins. Catelyn and Edmure sat in you and Robb’s tent. Edmure was delighted with throwing small scraps of meat to Shadow and watching her cook it before eating. Catelyn grumbled as she pulled back the tent flap before letting it close again.

“The rain mocks us. Lord Walder will take our delay as an insult.”

Edmure chuckled as he threw another scrap Shadow’s way.

“Frey should be excited. He is getting the wedding he wanted, not our fault we can’t control the weather.”

“It is a wedding but the one he wanted was to a king, my husband all but ruined that. And his mad son,” Catelyn said with a glare, more playful than anything considering it was Ned’s letter that began the ordeal.

Robb laughed at his mother. “Lord Walder is getting the best marriage offer he’s had since House Frey was conceived. Who better than a Tully?”

“He wanted a Stark. King in the North.”

“If Lord Walder wants his daughters to marry a king, he only has to wait a short while,” you said. “Maybe his granddaughters. He’ll have his Stark king in a matter of months, unless it’s a girl. Does Lord Walder have sons?”

The other three looked at you. Edmure had stopped what he was doing while Catelyn looked like she couldn’t decide whether to smile or cry to show her happiness. Robb was frozen in place. His gaze went down to your stomach and then to your face.

“Are you serious?”

“I haven’t bled since being at Riverrun.”

Edmure and Catelyn excused themselves. Robb pulled you to him, his hand starting to rub your stomach. He kissed your hair and rested his forehead on your shoulder. You settled your hands on top of his.

“We must end this war quickly now,” Robb decided. “For our child.”

“For all the children,” you reminded him. “I’m sure they would like to not have soldiers turning their playing fields into battlefields.”

Robb chuckled along with you. “I’m pretty sure a little girl glared at me as we left the Riverlands. I think one of our horses trampled her little house.”

“You deserved it then.”

“It was a dirt mound!” He joked.  

“She probably made it special for a fairy or… what were they called? A child of the forest.”

“Children of the forest are make believe.”

“So were dragons,” you countered. Robb hummed in response.

“Make believe or not, this is real. I can’t wait to welcome our child into the world.”

“Prince or Princess of the Seven Kingdoms. Following in our footsteps, you’ll teach them to be honorable.”

“And you’ll teach them to be good.”

You melted more into his arms as he fully pulled you into his lap. The scene at Valyria flashed in your mind. You sighed and titled your head up to try and look at him. A large grin was on his face as he looked down at you.

“My house has a lesser known saying… the dragon has three heads. One, two, three.” You pointed to Robb, then yourself, then your stomach.

“The baby is also a Stark.”

“So we are a pack… A pack of dragons.” You smiled when Robb didn’t try to argue. “If it’s a girl we name her Naera, it’s an old Valyrian name.”

“Naera Stark, I like that.”

You picked at Robb’s fingers. “And if it’s a boy… Eddard.”

He took your hand and kissed it before settling back on your stomach, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Robb nodded and tried to shake the tears away but couldn’t help himself. He leaned over you a little more so he could kiss you.

“The lone wolf dies but the pack survives,” he whispered against your lips.

(Part 6)...