#day twelve: creator's choice

[oc-challenges]

WELCOME TO OC HALLOWEEN CHALLENGE 2O24!

SMILE because it's time for the annual oc halloween challenge! We will see the evil, hear the evil, and speak the evil with these spooky challenges brought to you by @aliverse, @astarionbae, @endless-oc-creations, and @come-along-pond!

If this is your first time, here's the lowdown; This is an event that takes place over the 31 days of October and presents oc creators with Halloween-themed challenges to encourage creativity, foster community, and have fun! Some of these have guidelines/suggestions, but this is very much a free-for-all so you can ignore them if they don't fit with your interpretations.

RULES

DO NOT copy others edits.

If you are doing crossovers, PLEASE make sure that the creator of the other oc is okay with crossovers.

If you want your post to be reblogged onto this blog, it must contain the hashtag ohc2024.

Feel free to ask questions, I promise I’m more treat than trick.

Everything is up to the creators interpretation, although I have tried to include some examples for help!

Have fun!

Day One: Godly Parent

Whether Greek, Roman, Norse, Egyptian, or any other; What "God" could have created your oc?

Day Two: Mystical Communication

There are tons of ways we think we can communicate with those beyond our realm such as Tarot Cards, Oujia Boards, Prayer, EMFs, or even through other people with otherworldly powers. Which method would your oc use? Or maybe they are the communication tool?

Day Three: Merch/Memorabilia

When we really love something, we want a piece of it with us. What merch would people buy of your ocs? Ex. Dolls (like funkos or Barbie crossovers), Clothes (like shirts or sweatshirts), Buttons/Patches, Dishware (like cups or plates), trading cards, posters, or even spin-off books of the show they star in.

Day Four: If They Were Canon AU

You could create an actor oc who plays your character or even make edits about how you think your ocs faceclaim would promote/interpret their character and get along with fellow cast members.

Day Five: Social Media AU

Within their canon, what would your ocs Instagram, Twitter, TikTok, Facebook, Tumblr, Snapchat, and/or YouTube look like?

Day Six: Role Swap AU

Give your oc a role in their story that is different than the one they already have. Whether this is making a hero a villain or vice versa, your victim a survivor or vice versa, or anything else you can think of.

Day Seven: Butterfly Effect

One choice could change the trajectory of our lives or any game we play. Show us the effects of your oc making the wrong choice when they originally made the right choice, befriending someone they originally hated, or even just missing their alarm.

Day Eight: Multiverse

Maybe you have multiple ocs with the same faceclaim, maybe you have a friend(s) who have ocs with the same faceclaim that you've wanted to do a crossover with, or maybe you want your oc to meet some of the actual characters their faceclaim has played. No matter what it is, it's time for your ocs to meet their multiverse counterparts!

Day Nine: Literature AU

Put your oc into an alternate universe based off a book you enjoy whether it be a classic or a newer one, no matter the genre.

Day Ten: Dungeons & Dragons AU

Have your ocs play DND, make an au based off a classic DND campaign, or just tell us the stats of your oc in DND terms.

Day Eleven: Ghost AU

Sometimes when we die, we don't leave. Tell us the unfinished business that keeps your ocs ghost on Earth, who your oc would haunt, how they would haunt, or anything else related to your oc being a ghost!

Day Twelve: Supernatural AU

Make your human oc a supernatural creature or your supernatural oc a different supernatural character.

Day Thirteen: Video Game AU

Show us some of what your story would look like as a video game or put your ocs into your favorite game.

Day Fourteen: Musical AU

The doctor said I couldn't talk, he didn't say I couldn't siiinnnggg! Put your oc into your favorite musical such as Hamilton or Mean Girls, or come up with some original lyrics to show what you think your story would look like if it were written as a musical.

Day Fifteen: Nostalgia

Take the books, shows, or movies you enjoyed as a child and put your oc into them! Or, show us what your oc enjoyed as a child.

Day Sixteen: Fairytale AU

One of the most classics of classics. Make your oc a character in your favorite fairytale, whether you prefer the Grimm or Disney version, or make up a fairytale about your oc!

Day Seventeen: Being is Believing

For day seventeen, think about superstitions, urban legends, or folklore and either make your oc a part of them, make your oc experience them, or tell us which ones your oc believes.

Day Eighteen: Beloved Pet or Object Turned Human

It's not unusual for someone to grow an emotional attatchment to an animal or an inanimate object. What would your ocs beloved pet or object say if they turned human and could speak your ocs langauge?

Day Nineteen: Genre Switch

Whatever the genre of your story is, swap it with another one. Maybe your romance story is now a horror story, your comedy is now a tragedy, or your historical realism story is now future sci-fi.

Day Twenty: Darkest After Dawn

Things can go so right for so long and then suddenly so wrong. Show us what happens when something rains on your ocs parade, when a perfect day turns into a horrible night, or a dream vacation turns into a nightmare trap.

Day Twenty-One: Apocalypse AU

Put your oc into an alternate universe that's been thrust into an apocalypse whether that be because of zombies, aliens, radiation, or the Earth trying to reclaim its land.

Day Twenty-Two: Time Problems

Let's play with time for this challenge. Picture your story as if it has always taken place in a different time, throw your oc into a time loop, or have them somehow travel through time.

Day Twenty-Three: Horrorify A Song

Take your favorite Halloween song and tell it's story, or even take a perfectly innocent song and give it a horrifying meaning! Both using your ocs, obviously.

Day Twenty-Four: What's Your Favorite Scary Movie?

It wouldn't be Halloween without some good scary movies. Put your ocs into one of your favorite scary movies!

Day Twenty-Five: Horror Location

This is an easier throwback to one of the week long challenges we've done for this event. Make something that tells a horror story of your oc at a certain location such as a Hospital/Asylum, Summer Camp, Place of Worship, Cemetery/Tomb, House/Apartment, Hotel/Cabin, or Farm/Ranch.

Day Twenty-Six: Horror Subgenres

Another throwback to a week long challenge we've done for this event. Make something that tells a horror story of your oc within a horror subgenre such as extraterrestrial, apocalypse, monster, time loop, isolation, time loop, cult, doppleganger, or anything else you can think of.

Day Twenty-Seven: Horror Archetypes

Which horror character tropes do your ocs embody? The Final Girl or The Killer? The Accomplice or The Harmless Antagonist? The Harbinger or The Nonbeliever? The Comedic Relief or The Hysteric Annoyance?

Day Twenty-Eight: Solo Costume

Show us what your oc would dress up as for Halloween! Would they dress sexy? Scary? Lazy? Practical?

Day Twenty-Nine: Couples Costume

Show us what matching costume your oc and their love interest would wear! Peanut Butter & Jelly? Morticia & Gomez? Bert & Ernie?

Day Thirty: Group Costume

Show us what costumes your oc and their friend group would coordinate. Are they the Scooby Gang? The Wiggles? Mario Party Characters?

Day Thirty-One: Here's A Treat!

The Halloween potluck isn't happening this year but we still want to encourage interaction and giving. So, choose someone to give a treat! This could be an ask, an edit, some writing, or even a playlist.

[pan-flute-skeleton]

Winter Wonderklok 2023

Welcome to the first ever Winter Wonderklok! A holiday Metalocalypse themed event leading up to Christmas. Twelve days of prompts instead of gifts for your true love. How zazzy is that! You are free to create anything you want. Make art, write stories, put together playlists, design moodboards and overall, take the time to have fun with it. I know this coming out a smidge early, but I want to make sure everyone has time to relax after kloktober, think and create. I made it a point to try and be as broad as possible because I know not everyone celebrates Christmas. Please feel free to adjust to your standards. As a fan creator myself, I do these things for the fun of it and in a way that fits my style. I encourage you all to do the same. Don’t feel like a certain prompt? Do something else entirely! 

There are a few things I would like to clarify and they go as follows:

What do you mean by ‘Rankin Bass?’ Rankin Bass is the production company that produced all of your favorite Christmas movies like Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer and Santa Claus is Coming to Town. Beautiful puppetry and stop motion pioneers that are cherished to this day. I challenge artists to attempt the style in their own way. Or simply have your character of choice enjoying the specials. However you want to tackle the iconic figures.

What do you mean by ‘Saran wrap ball?’ It’s a type of grab bag game that involves…saran wrap! Who would’ve thought. I will attach a video below for reference on how it’s made and how it’s played. I will say that each house has their own rules so feel free to adjust anything you’d like.

What do you mean by ‘OC Special?’ I am an OC (original character) writer. Many of my friends are too. The few prompts that are labeled ‘OC special’ are meant to encourage use of OCs, interaction with other OCs and even creation of new OCs. I would love for people to take the opportunity to create someone or something new or try something they’ve been meaning to for a while. Challenge yourself! But if that isn’t your style, that’s okay too. If you do not want to use or make an OC, you’re more than welcome to use a canon character of choice instead.

What do you mean by ‘Toys for Tots?’ This is a charity program run by the U.S. Marine Corps Reserve which distributes toys to children whose families cannot afford to buy them for Christmas. Ongoing for over seventy five years and common enough, but just in case anyone needed a reminder.

I encourage you to use #WinterWonderklok2023 when you post your work. Love keeping things organized. Good luck everyone! Can’t wait to see what you can come up with.

I also want to give a huge shout out to @papabigtoes for all the visuals for Wonderklok. I really could not pull this off without her insane art skills. Thank you a million times over my friend!

Plain text list:

Dec 13 Improvised snowman decoration 

Dec 14 Baking cookies

Dec 15 Hot tub in the snow

Dec 16 Black friday*

Dec 17 Everyone gets socks

Dec 18 Lighting candles

Dec 19 Saran wrap ball

Dec 20 Secret Santa with another character*

Dec 21 Dethfam holiday

Dec 22 Rankin Bass

Dec 23 Homemade gift

Dec 24 Toys for tots*

*=OC Special

[inksandpensblog]

This is the original comment I left on Green’s 24 hour couch video.

In the spirit of the exercise, I’ve decided not to edit or delete it. As a participating audience member, I’m part of this narrative now, and I’m not gonna pretend I didn’t do what I’ve done.

However, in the time since I posted it, I’ve had some thoughts.

Near the beginning of this arc, people were saying that Green’s descent felt a bit rushed on the part of Alan’s team. In response, I theorized that maybe Green hadn’t truly gone through the “arc” we’d expect an established influencer to go through to get to this point; I hypothesized that, instead, Green was simply replicating what he himself saw online, without necessarily understanding what made it engaging.

I was reminded of my hypothesis when my friend @celestialaviva remarked that the video description made them worry. So I had another look and…

I got to thinking.

Green isn’t the type to leave things unfinished. Green is a perfectionist. Green is competitive.

It would be extremely out-of-character for Green to fake this challenge. Nevermind that sitting and doing nothing for an entire day is as un-stickfigure-like an activity as I can imagine; if that was the challenge, Green would see it through to his utmost ability.

And then I remembered my own theory:

Green is a novice content creator.

Alan’s team, the ones charting the course of Green’s arc, are the ones who understand what is really going on here…not Green, the character.

What if the video wasn’t faked? What if he actually did spend 24 hours doing nothing on a couch, thinking that’s what people wanted to see from him because timed challenges are popular?

And now he’s getting heckled for it.

People are taking this video in bad faith because of what we’re used to from lazier and more established content creators, all because of some poorly-thought-out editing choices on Green’s part.

And I’m one of these people.

I originally started drafting this post at 3pm EST, I know something else has happened since then but I haven’t been able to look yet. So this post may be irrelevant already as far as the ongoing storyline is concerned but I’m still sharing it because I feel like the reflection is worthwhile.

I did end up leaving another comment on the video. Maybe in twelve hours I’ll wish I could take back this one too, who’s to say.

[scurvgirl]

Learning about my Rook through banter. Just a little self-indulgent writing.

-

Bellara: So...you're Dalish, right?

Rook: Yep.

Bellara: But...you don't have Vallaslin.

Rook: I don't.

Bellara: Did you leave before you could get it?

Rook: No. My father isn't Dalish, and I was born in a city - I joined my mother's clan later. Didn't feel like the Vallaslin would suit me at the time.

Bellara: Oh.

-

Lucanis: Rook, what foods would you like prepared?

Rook: Anything really. Dalish, Free Marches, Tevinter, any kind of sea food.

Lucanis: Good to know.

-

Rook: You know, Taash, you don't have to choose to be Qunari or Rivaini.

Taash: What, you think I don't know that?

Rook: Hold your dragons. I'm saying - I'm Dalish and from a city. I respect the Vhenadahl and the halla. I sang prayers to Andraste and to the creators...before, you know, we knew shit.

Taash: Okay.

Rook: It's all important, and...you're all of it, put together into a unique experience of yourself.

Taash: I'll think about it.

-

Neve: Alright, your accent is not Tevinter, Antivan, Fereldan, or Orlesian. You're a Marcher.

Rook: She's found me out!

Neve: Now to figure out where.

Rook: Do you want me to tell you or is it more fun for you to put the clues together?

Neve: Don't tell me.

-

Rook: Fucking Venatori!

Harding: You really hate them.

Rook: Assholes kill people and use my gods as a fucking excuse.

Harding: You made that one explode.

Rook: Yeah, well, sometimes we deal with personal shit by exploding an evil shithead.

-

Neve: I've got it.

Rook: Oh do tell!

Neve: Kirkwall - Varric recruited you, told you to keep where you're from a secret.

Rook: Good thought but nope. Not from Kirkwall, and thank goodness for that.

Neve: Dammit.

-

Lucanis: You're quite good with that blade Rook. Who taught you?

Rook: My mother. She's a very skilled swordswoman. All of her kids are mages but she insisted we all learn how to defend ourselves with weaponry against Templars.

Lucanis: Smart woman. You have siblings?

Rook: Yeah, two older brothers.

Lucanis: Why am I not surprised you're the baby?

Rook: Because I am baby.

-

Bellara: I don't understand. Why not get the Vallaslin?

Rook: My clan was informed of its true meaning. My keeper started offering everyone a choice.

Bellara: True meaning?

Rook: Slave markings, apparently. Makes sense now with what we know of the gods.

Bellara: That's horrible!

Rook: My brother decided to get his despite that. He said "Whatever they were, they are now how we find each other. How we take pride in who we are." I didn't feel ready. I don't know if I will ever feel ready.

Bellara: That...makes a lot of sense, actually. Thank you.

-

Davrin: You saw the Inquisitor, right?

Rook: Yeah. For someone who has been fighting for so long, she looked great.

Davrin: She's like you - Dalish but no Vallaslin.

Rook: There's a few of us out there.

Davrin: I wonder how she got rid of it.

Rook: Ah. Don't like Ghilan'nain's design upon you?

Davrin: Most days it doesn't bother me, but some days...it makes my skin crawl.

Rook: I'll try to ask her next time I see her.

-

Neve: Alright. You don't have Vallaslin because your clan found out information about them from ancient times. You showed an odd familiarity with the inquisitor. You said you are both Dalish and from a city. You hate the Venatori. You're from Wycome.

Rook: Huzzah! You discovered it!

Neve: You were there when the Venatori tried to take over.

Rook: They poisoned our wells. Blamed the elves in the alienage. They killed so many.

Neve: That means your mother was from clan Lavellan - the same clan the Inquisitor was from.

Rook: That would be my clan.

Neve: No wonder Varric gave you a code name and made it so hard to find anything out about you.

Rook: I was twelve when Miriel, I mean, the Inquisitor, left the clan. We were so proud of her, and so worried for her. When she came back...without her Vallaslin...there was a lot of heartbreak that day.

-

Solas: You knew the Inquisitor.

Rook: I did. And you broke her heart.

Solas: I didn't have a choice.

Rook: From what she's said - you did. You just chose wrong.

[mangthemango]

Withdrawals

A Genshin Impact SAGAU Brainrot

Pairing/s: Albedo x Creator!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Imposter!AU, cult behaviour, medication withdrawal symptoms, you take anti-depressants, Albedo is possibly OOC just because I don't know too much about him (because mf refused to come home >:()

Author's Notes: It's currently eight in the morning and I decided to write this entirely on a whim. Friendly reminder to take your medication when you need to! Otherwise, Genshin will make sure your fave doesn't come home lol.

Fic under the cut! I hope you enjoy!

Waking up in Teyvat was fun at first. After emerging from unconsciousness in Windrise and getting over the initial thoughts of 'how the hell is this possible', you were actually having a good time. The sun wasn't too hot on your skin, the breeze was nice and cool, even the hilichurls were more than welcoming to your arrival. Being able to try sunsettias for the first time and feeling the gentle tingling of an Electro slime under your fingertips were core memories you hoped you'd never forget.

Well, it was fun. It was until you started getting chased around Mondstadt.

The Knights of Favonius had it in for you because of your appearance, weirdly enough. While you did share some similarities to some released characters, you couldn't think of a single character who looked identical to you as your hunters claimed. Maybe it was an unreleased character or an NPC they were talking about.

You couldn't care less, though. All you knew was that this mystery stranger was held in such high regard that they wanted to kill you in their name.

No more than twelve hours after waking up in the Nation of Freedom, you were cowering in a hidden radish plot in Springvale, watching the setting sun shine gold on the faces of your pursuers. Some interrogated the townspeople of your whereabouts, others put up posters calling for your arrest at the decree of someone called 'The Divine Creator'.

A Divine Creator? Could they maybe be Fontaine's Archon? Your knowledge on the lore of Genshin Impact was rusty at best. However, you knew of the emphasis the French-inspired nation had on invention and composition. Perhaps Fontaine had a unique system of worship for their regional god, just like all the other nations you'd come to know and love. Plus, it'd explain why you hadn't heard of the title before while playing the game.

Yet, the longer you pondered over it on your way to Stormterror's Lair, the less it made sense. You'd only just woken up in Teyvat and unless there was an omnipotence amongst the Archons which you hadn't learned of, it was pretty much impossible for the god of Hydro to know about you when you'd barely stepped foot out of Barbatos' territory.

That left the questions: who was this Divine Creator that wanted you dead? And why did it feel like you'd forgotten something important?

Your trek towards Old Mondstadt was tiring - you'd never done this much walking in your life - and when the moon was high, you had no choice but to put your journey on hold for the sake of taking some much needed rest in Wolvendom. A Wolfhook bush was your bed for the night and you prayed to any Archon who'd dare listen to you for a peaceful trip and some safe refuge.

No one was listening that evening. That seemed more and more apparent as your hike continued.

Knights were scattered across the lands, vigilant eyes scanning the surroundings and forcing you to rely on sneaking and climbing abilities you didn't know you had. Mobs that were usually hostile towards you as a player were more than willing to lend a helping hand but as it became clear they were also more than willing to die for you, you steered clear of hilichurl camps, no matter how small. You soon only had yourself and a growing queasiness to keep you company on your travels.

It became a hard-won miracle that you managed to make it to the ruined city, your mystery illness that struck no more than a day after you first arrived in Teyvat reducing you to shaky limbs, stale saliva, pounding headaches and teary eyes. However, you only barely managed to cross into the new region before you fell onto the stone in a heap, crying. You hadn't felt this bad since you were first put on your meds-

Oh shit. Your medication. No wonder you were feeling like garbage.

As quick as the realisation came, another wave of helplessness crashed into you. Teyvat likely wasn't advanced enough to manufacture something like anti-depressants and even if they were, the Knights had made sure that any citizen of Mondstadt who saw you would drag you back to the city to witness your execution. You probably had more of a chance of finding the Unusual Hilichurl with a blindfold than seeking out someone who'd be willing to help you.

Metal gently scooped you off of the floor and you wiped your eyes, clearing them enough to see the Ruin Guard which was carrying you towards the centre of the lair. All you could do was lay your head against the machine, eyes fluttering shut. You knew that withdrawals wouldn't kill you but with how awful you felt, you almost felt like handing yourself in just to make it stop.

When you opened your eyes next, it was to the sight of a makeshift lab built in the cave you'd been placed in. A familiar blond man was sitting cross-legged at the small bench, fiddling with eye-droppers and beakers, and before you could stop yourself, you weakly called out his name.

Albedo was quick to move from his seat, moving to you and hovering his hands over your arms. "You still need rest, Your Grace. Please, sleep some more. I'm almost finished."

Delirious from your foggy mind and in disbelief that the nation's Chief Alchemist was aiding you, all you could mutter was "My name's not Grace."

A ghost of a smile crept upon his lips, although that might've been the withdrawals messing with you again, before he moved settled next to your hunched figure. "It's your title, Your Grace. It seems my hypothesis has been proven, unfortunately. You don't appear to remember much about yourself-"

"Why are you helping me?" you interjected. A small voice in the back of your mind scolded you for being impolite to the only person who'd helped you since you first arrived in Teyvat but it was quickly lost in another wave of wooziness. "They've got a big cash reward if you kill me."

Albedo's eyes widened ever so slightly, his face seemingly growing a shade paler. "I would do nothing of the sort, Your Grace. You are the Divine Creator and what the people of Mondstadt are doing is treason against your great name," he explained.

"But I'm not a Divine Creator of anything. I thought that was another name of the Hydro Archon," you mumbled, eyes squeezing in pain.

"Oh dear, it's worse than I predicted. Please, provide me with a few more moments, Your Grace. I almost have the fluoxetine ready for you."

It was that single word, so starkly familiar amongst the blond's overwhelming claims, that had your eyes darting open and your body sitting up so quickly Albedo didn't have enough time to move his hands away. The soft fabric of his gloves touched your skin for a moment before his arms recoiled like you were hot to the touch. Cheeks flushed a soft pink, he fell back, restoring the distance between the two of you.

"Fluoxetine? Y-You have anti-depressants? How do you even manufacture them here?" you questioned, disbelief keeping your eyes wide. However, it was the prospect of finally getting rid of these shitty withdrawal symptoms that injected life into you once more. You never thought you'd be excited to take your medication, not since you were told you'd need to start taking those tablets, but in this moment, you wouldn't blame anyone who thought you'd just won the lottery.

"Teyvat, uh, doesn't manufacture the fluoxetine," Albedo replied in his usual soft tone, moving back to his knee-high bench to finish his chemistry. "The recipe for the 'anti-depressants' comes from an ancient scripture. I've been studying this sacred text for a long time to deduce how to make this substance if you ever were to descend in a mortal form in my lifetime."

"Albedo, with all due respect, I have no idea what you're talking about," you said, staring at the blond as his words swum in your already full head. "I'm sorry. I think the explanation might need to wait until I've had my meds in my system for a little bit. It's really hard to think right now."

Albedo only nodded. "That is understandable, Your Grace. I will finish concocting the fluoxetine so we can restore your form to its full glory. Once you are feeling like yourself again, you may ask me any question you want answered."

You nodded back in response, leaning back onto the soft grass with a sigh. As bad as things felt right now, somehow the promise of your meds reentering your system, even being delivered by a character from your favourite game, made your symptoms ease ever so slightly. It wasn't enough to get rid of the stale taste in your mouth or the tremors in your hands. It was enough, though, to finally allow you to get some more rest since your sleep in Wolvendom.

As for all the Divine Creator stuff Albedo claimed you were? You'll just deal with that when you've had your tablets.

[sgiandubh]

Sunday sounds: Ascension. Lumen gentium

On this Feast of the Ascension, the miraculous dimension of what happened on Easter Sunday is now being entirely confirmed. At least to the believers, of course - a matter of personal choice, resonance and dialogue, no matter how all those three happen. I, for one, have always been a strong proponent of the free dialogue between the Creature and its Creator. No pompous words needed, no props - the only thing that's mandatory is complete honesty.

On this day, the visible part of the Gospels' narratives is apparently finished, but one could immediately think of those words, Mary Queen of Scots embroidered while waiting for her execution in an English prison:

'En ma Fin gît mon Commencement'. /'In my End is my Beginning.'

Today's Gospel invites The Twelve to ' go (...) into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature (King James' Bible, Mark 16:15).' With this bidding, the Story is continued with the whole human adventure of the construction of a Universal Church. But I think there is more about it, since this invitation is not extended just to them, but in reality to all of us. And it's perhaps simpler and deeper than building hierarchies, doctrines and institutions, because what is also meant is just something along the lines of 'be the light you want to see in the World.'

Gandhi never said that. But a humble nun and convert from New York, Elizabeth Ann Seton, did. She later became a saint - something I never set myself to achieve, by the way.

PS: no Mother's Day in my country. Legally, it's always supposed to be celebrated on the first Sunday in May, but as for every recent and foreign inspired innovation, nobody does. It's somehow included in the whole International Women's Day Communist lollapalooza, on the 8th of March. That tells a lot, actually, about the way my own society and culture looks at this sacred waypoint in everybody's life - sideways, and it's a real problem.

But to all Moms, Daughters and Sons who do celebrate, I send a heartfelt thought of love and sympathy. What we all share with Mom, who will always be there for us, might sometimes be dramatic, hard and even unfair. However, that mysterious bond is never to be broken. Not even by Death itself. And no matter who we sometimes choose to call Mom.

[visenyasdragon]

Sea Dragon Queen

Pairing: Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen. Many more to come in future chapters.

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: An AU where Targaryens have braincells <3 they still have their flaws and prejudices, but not to dynasty-ending levels. No Dance, Rhaenyra never marries Laenor because Corlys has the sense to not marry off his clearly gay son. A fix it fic, if you will. I hope you'll enjoy it <3

Content warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Author's note: This is my first fanfiction and non-academic writing I've done since like 2009, so please be kind to me! English is also my second language.

Next chapter

Read on Ao3

Rhaenyra I

112AC

“I intend to marry… the Lady Laena Velaryon” the king said in a quiet, clear voice, “though not a day before her fifteenth nameday”.

Ser Otto did his best to conceal his astonishment. All his efforts thwarted, his daughter’s reputation soiled to no avail. “A wise choice, my king. In these times of peril and uncertainty from the east, a strong alliance with Driftmark is paramount. The Hand is ready to steadfastly support the Crown in all his endeavors.” There he is, ready to ingratiate himself further into my father’s graces despite his defeat, ever the cunning politician, she thought with irritation. Rhaenyra found it difficult not to laugh at just how predictable Ser Otto Hightower was. If only her uncle Daemon were here, to share this moment with her!

At the opposite end of the table, Lord Corlys looked as if he had just won a naval battle, been granted a son, and triumphed in cyvasse all at once. There is scarce a happier man in all of King’s Landing, Rhaenyra thought. She did not yet know whether she felt happy or anxious at the prospect of a stepmother younger than herself, and so soon after her own lady mother’s death. The time for sorting out my feelings will come later, she told herself, making an effort to steady her face. Rhaenyra looked at Alicent, but her friend’s countenance might as well have been a porcelain mask.

“My King, allow me to express my gratitude and happiness for honoring my House with your choice”, the master of ships stated in a glad tone, rising from his seat. “The centuries-old alliance between the last two pillars of Old Valyria will thrive once more. If I may be allowed to make a suggestion… there is not the slightest need for you to defer the wedding, Your Grace. I must confer with my lady wife on this matter, but I believe it is best that the preparations for the union begin at once”.

A gleaming black raven quorked loudly three times while perching on the red sandstone parapet. His piercing, jet-black eyes met Rhaenyra’s, sending an odd feeling down her spine. Grand Maester Mellos chuckled just in the right moment, as was often his way, preventing anybody else from speaking. He was a weathered veteran of a thousand small council sessions, after all. “It is the solemn belief of the Maesters of the Citadel that in order for a marriage to be fruitful, it ought not take place when the bride is too young to bear healthy heirs. The Lady Laena is but a girl of twelve, and I find it most judicious that His Grace elected to delay the wedding for three years.”

Rhaenyra swallowed quietly, trying to hold back her tears. The name of Aemma Arryn seemed to hang in the room and on everyone’s lips, yet none dared speak it. It has only been a few moons since the queen’s passing, and King Viserys’s enduring grief was plain for all to see. He flustered at the maester’s polite words, instantly brought back to the distant, sunny day at the Eyrie when he was but a young man of sixteen, wedded at Queen Alysanne’s instigation to a surpassingly beautiful girl not much older than Laena herself. Rhaenyra felt she could almost read the thoughts in her father’s mind at that moment. He will always love mother best of everyone, she thought. Even more than herself, though it did not wound her. Her late mother was the gentlest creature House Targaryen had yet seen, and she knew all the love and honor in the world would not be enough to match her merits. Despite her younger age, she had made him and molded him into the man he was, for better or for worse, everyone in her family said. She felt a heavy, choking feeling in her chest at the sudden understanding that it was his affection for his dead wife and the child-bride she had been to defer the marriage the realm so desperately needed. Maybe this is his apology to her in a way, Rhaenyra thought. He says, look Aemma, I must do my duty, but I will always love you. I will always honor your memory, in everything that I do.

Ser Otto’s voice broke her out of her reverie.

“As much as I value and respect any maester’s opinion, here is where I must disagree” he protested. Rhaenyra felt as if she could say his next words herself, so little a surprise they were for her. “The realm urgently needs a queen to provide the king with further heirs as soon as possible. Much as young Lady Laena Velaryon surely is, she is of Targaryen blood and will certainly do her duty splendidly. I propose the wedding takes place within a moon’s turn, or else as soon as the preparations can be completed.” Ser Otto finished his speech with the ludicrous confidence of a man who has the matter well at hand. He looked as if he were about to order Alicent’s wedding gown right where he sat. He means for little Laena to die in childbirth not having reached her fourteenth nameday, and for Alicent to take her place instead, Rhaenyra thought angrily.

The king listened to his Hand’s advice with a blank expression. What he said next surprised not only Ser Otto.

“Nevertheless, this is a matter where I resolve to be firm. I respect my future wife too much to bargain with her health and safety. This meeting is at an end.” Viserys rose from his seat at the head of the table, sending the rest of his small council to their feet. In his haste Lord Lyman Beesbury sent his gold-and-onyx council egg scuttering to the floor. “Apologies, my lords” he breathed, trying to recover his symbol of office from beneath the table, but Ser Harrold Westerling was ahead of him, restoring the sphere to its rightful place. The councilmen withdrew from the room one by one. Lord Corlys and King Viserys moved to the latter’s private apartments to discuss the upcoming nuptials and the crown’s response to the trouble in the Stepstones. Alicent meekly followed her visibly discontented father, her gaze firmly set on the floor beneath her. Rhaenyra wanted more than anything to take her into the godswood and talk for hours about the events of the day as they so often did, but she sensed that would have to wait. Her friend walked away sparing not a single glance for her, already engaged in a conversation of sharp, quiet whispers with Ser Otto. She felt a pang of pity towards Alicent. I would give much for her to be daughter to any other man in the realm, she thought. Rhaenyra was the last to depart the small council chamber, her feet unconsciously leading her toward the Dragonpit and Syrax.

The following days and weeks upended Rhaenyra’s world upside down. One by one, reluctantly, as if the king feared her dragon-temper, the startling news reached her, by way of Septa Marlow and Ser Criston Cole and Annara and other servants whose names she did not know, anybody but her father. She was to be fostered at Driftmark and henceforth divide her time equally between the court and High Tide; Alicent was not permitted by the Hand to go with her as her companion; Laenor Velaryon was to serve as the king’s squire and second cupbearer when she was not present; her uncle Daemon was to lead the Royal Fleet alongside Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys into the Stepstones as soon as the troops and supplies for war were prepared. On top of that, when the war was done, it was decided Rhaenyra and Laena were to go on a royal progress throughout the realm, from the Arbor to Winterfell, the two queens to be. It was as if the gods themselves were unsure whether the death of Queen Aemma did not send Rhaenyra a strong enough message that her childhood was at an end. Now was the time to enter the dangerous world of politics and diplomacy, one that Rhaenyra only knew by proxy.

“Perhaps it will be better for you”, said Alicent softly one warm spring afternoon, as they were luxuriating in their favorite spot beneath the weirwood tree, “You will get out of this place, all of these intrigues, whereas I am stuck here as long as my father can keep his chain of Handship. You will see High Tide and the world beyond King’s Landing. And the people will receive an opportunity to see their future queen. I’m sure they will come to love you in no time.”

“Just as you have?” asked Rhaenyra teasingly, planting a soft kiss upon her friend’s cheek. Her skin immediately took on a very pretty pink color. ”I do not mind the travel. In fact, I think it will do Syrax good to stretch her legs and work for her next meal, she has grown rather spoiled as of late. What I do mind is that none of this is my choice. It was not even discussed by the small council at any length. Septa Marlow said that it was all decided by my father and Lord Corlys after the betrothal was agreed upon.”

“And if you were given a choice, you’re certain you wouldn’t have chosen exactly this? You’ve always spoken about wanting to see the wonders across the narrow sea. Well, think of it as the next best thing. You’ll see the wonders across the Blackwater Rush”. They both laughed. For all her love of romance and books, Alicent had a charming way of making Rhaenyra laugh in the most unexpected moments.

“What good can those wonders do to me if I don't have my dear Alicent next to me to tell me their histories? Do you remember when we were walking through the Kingswood a few years ago, during this royal hunt or other, and you corrected our septas repeatedly about the history of the forest? Something about an Andal warlord who vanquished a First Man king there millenia ago? The poor woman got it completely confused with the Faith Militant uprising. How red her face was!”

“Well, septas are not exactly educated to be solemn historians, their duty was foremost to look after us and safeguard our reputation. And you really were very rude and impertinent that day. Septas work very hard, you know” Alicent said with a sweet smile, but Rhaenyra could see that she was flattered to be complimented on her knowledge and intelligence, but her impeccable Hightower breeding would not allow her to disparage sworn members of the Faith. “Besides, I’m sure you will have plenty of people around you to relay you the histories of the various castles and towns you’ll be visiting. Multiple times, even.”

Rhaenyra sighed with irritation. “Yes, I’m sure I’ll be very entertained while various men who’d never met me before will try to charm their way into wedding me. Those men won’t fawn over me. They only want my name and my Valyrian blood for their offspring!” She threw away the three blades of fresh grass she’s been braiding with annoyance.

“Well, I think it’s rather romantic,” Alicent said dreamily, looking into the far distance. She looked her most beautiful in such moments. “It is rare for girls in this realm to get a choice between two suitors, no less two score of them. To have one’s favor sought during tourneys, name made immortal in songs sung by countless bards, to be able to choose the bravest and comeliest of the knights in the lists, to be made the lady of his hearth and home…”

“Yes, yes,” Rhaenyra said impatiently. “I am very lucky to be able to make my choice. You’ve made your point very clear. I am very lucky to live the life I do, with an indulgent father and a kingdom for an inheritance. I know.”

Alicent smiled both sweetly and slyly, now assured she drove her point home and made her beloved friend understand her unusual privilege. “But?”

“But I wish things were… I don’t know, different! I wish I was permitted to see uncle Daemon again. I wish I didn’t have to think about my suitor’s castle size or the number of his armies when choosing a husband. I wish I didn’t have to tour every corner of the realm to make the lords of the realm accept me as their future ruler. My father certainly never did. He’s never been further west than Stonebridge, he told me himself. He was made the future king by the great council and that was the end of it. Why can’t it be the same for me?!”

“Because you are a woman and King Viserys is a man,” Alicent said calmly.

“Yes,” Rhaenyra agreed bitterly. “Because I am a woman and he is a man”.

[thefingerfuckingfemalefury]

Thirty One Days of Horror Movies! Day Twelve :D

The Bride of Frankenstein! :D

A direct sequel to the original Frankenstein film, the movie follows both the creation as he experiences more of the world and unfortunately more of the worlds fear and hatred of him and also his creator as his old mentor encourages him to embark on a plan to create a new being, the titular Bride of Frankenstein

One of the rare sequels that I think is an improvement on the original film, the movie is a wonderful piece of classic horror cinema

The pathos it brings to the iconic creation are incredible and while there have been many adaptations of Mary Shelley's classic work this one is, deservedly, one of the best remembered...elements of it have been copied in everything from serious homages to hilarious parodies such as Mel Brooks wonderful "Young Frankenstein" movie and it definitely deserves the pop culture impact its made...this is an excellent monster movie which was definitely made with love for the genre

Perhaps not every acting or directing choice or practical effect has held up as well today as it did when the film first came out, but the movie still has a magical something to it that makes it a Halloween favorite of mine and it's well worth checking out :D

[justgracehere]

Blog Post 10/17

This is my gaming avatar, the mii I created on my twelve year old Nintendo Wii. I have chosen to name this avatar after myself, because she is meant to resemble real-life me as closely as she can. She is a little dated, dare I say obsolete, but she encapsulates the essence of myself in this ancient digital world. My creative options were limited, I was forced to tap into my inner artist, the visionary. I have subdued some of the more feminine elements of the Wii’s collection of human characteristics in an effort to avoid the appearance of an eighteenth century French aristocrat. The Wii has rudely denied me the luxury of a shirt, and so has represented me in the guise of a living traffic cone. This blatant confiscation of free choice made me consider the implications of having to decide between a male and female image in a digital space. The feminine design options available in the mii plaza are overtly so, and leave little room for any fluid interpretation of gender. In my case, this has resulted in the only obviously feminine aspect of my design being my lampshade torso. This to me is an obvious example of sexism, which has manifested itself as the removal of options, forcing female users into an extremely feminine mold.

This is the incarnation of me that might be capable of getting a date. It is the profile picture I use for my Instagram account. Since this is an image I already use to represent myself online, I thought it might also make a good dating avatar. This image is my own representation of myself, so I think it most accurately depicts how I view myself. The username I would associate with this image would be Grace.dem, which is a username I use when I would like to incorporate my real name. For my clothing, I have depicted myself wearing a shirt that I own and wear regularly. I thought it would be a good idea to make my dating avatar close to the truth, since I think in this context it would be important to represent myself honestly. Since I am a cartoonist, I apply cartooning principles when I draw myself. Here I have applied many of the principles of drawing female characters, such as a round face shape and narrow neck. These character design concepts are common across media, and so are easily recognizable in online spaces. I apply them here because I identify as a woman, and would like to depict myself with feminine characteristics. 

This is a bitmoji I would be able to use in day-to-day communication. I have adorned myself with a giant bagel so as to cast off the rigid gender boundaries of everyday dress. Kidding, I just like bagels. In actuality, I have based my avatar’s dress off of clothes I would wear in real life. I have applied similar logic to the physical traits of my avatar, and have attempted to create a bitmoji which most closely resembles my real life self. Although I am not someone who gravitates toward the bitmoji method of communication, I did learn from this experience just how much the act of creating a digital avatar has advanced in a social sense. I observed a vast array of options for hairstyles, facial features, and clothing which were not available to me when creating my mii. The creation of avatars as an online persona has developed over time into a much more inclusive practice. With a more diverse selection of characteristics available to them, creators may be more likely to develop avatars which better resemble their actual selves. Where a lack of options may have created a sense of shame around one’s appearance, a more broad selection such as the one represented in the bitmoji creator may empower users to choose options which represent their real life identity.

[hotpotrandomfics]

PJO Ciel AU: Stowaway of War Pt.2

Summary: Ciel has to make a choice between inaction or taking a stand. While you can be as enthusiastic to fight, a twelve-year-old spirit may falter without the right motivation.

Part 1: PJO Ciel AU: Stowaway of War Pt.1

Disclaimer:The characters of Justin Colby Peters and Clara Atalanta Ostá are intellectual properties of @mastrmiscellaneous, please follow them for more content on those characters and their creator's brilliant content.

Word Count: 3,390

“Ciel, I think we should talk about what happened in your dream. We can't just keep quiet about something as big as a double cross during attempted peace negotiations. Or the fact you have a creepy older brother wanting to kidnap you.” 

Justin expressed his concerns regarding his best friend's dream of what is potentially to come. Granted, a demigod's dream could be a cause for a glorious victory or agonizing death with the latter being favored. 

Justin, Ciel, and Clara had finished their guard duty as the sun was rising ever so slowly. The trio sat on the first-floor lobby, eating some of their ambrosia squares and nectar supplies after the end of their shift. Given their current state while in the middle of a warzone, it was the only sense of comfort they’d felt for a near day of battle, but finding any comfort at the moment seemed like a fleeting hope. Ciel, unfortunately, wasn’t as well rested as he wished considering a few issues plaguing the young warrior's mind. 

One, Hecate knows he is fighting against her and has a brother of his tasked to try and capture him. Considering she and many of his half siblings are fighting on opposite sides of this war it does make sense for her to try and keep her kids alive. Two, Prometheus was on his way to barter for some unforeseen circumstances. Ciel didn't know much about Prometheus other than he was a savior to the early humans but was punished for it. Three, no one has spotted Michael Yew, and several fellow campers are injured or worse. The latter was his major concern as he wanted to hope his fellow archers would return, but the sinking feeling in his gut begged to differ.

“J, you know we can’t trust dreams. Demigods and dreams aren’t always fun business. You agree, right Clara?” Ciel asked his unclaimed friend who tapped her blade with her free hand, drumming a tune of some punk band. Clara was a wealth of knowledge about demigods, the gods, and monsters alike so her input would be greatly appreciated even if it counters his point. He hoped she supported his idea of keeping his mouth shut to not be a bother, there was already so much going on.

“I have to agree with Justin. You should speak up about if you saw the Queen of Witches. It is not every day you can see what is going on with the enemy, but without hard facts to back you…,” Clara sounded irritated at the idea of not having enough information, something Ciel often wondered why she fixated on such matters. For the two summers he has known her she was always trying to learn more than an Athena kid, but she says it is because she is descended from her, which made her cabin placement all the more weird when considering she has been in Hermes cabin for so long. 

“I still don't think it is a good idea. What about the plans Percy and Annabeth have made? I would be stepping on their toes if it’s a trick…” Ciel's voice filled with concern about what may or may not be critical information. Why did a twelve-year-old boy have to hold such questionable information that could level the playing field?

“Best case, we act on that information and get the upper hand. Worst case, we take an unnecessary risk.” Clara stated as returned her coin to its coin form. She cycled it through her hand while muttering something neither boy could catch in Ancient Greek. Letting her opinion on the matter linger for Ciel to mule over was anxiety-inducing at best, but when it comes to this life it was never a simple yes or no action. Being cunning is what determines a demigod's probability of survival.

“Gods, why can’t things be simple?” Ciel groaned as he lifted himself from where he was on the floor before grabbing his bow. “I’ll go tell Annabeth and Percy. Not like things can get worse, right?”

“We’ll come with you-“ Clara started but her attention was drawn to hurried footsteps from Percy and Thalia, Lady Artemis's current lieutenant of her Hunters, running toward the entrance of the hotel. Ciel just had to jinx himself at the moment as the two children of Zeus and Poseidon made their way to what the boy feared.

“Shit.” Ciel cursed at himself sensing something was off about the situation and ran leaving his friends in the lobby of the Plaza. “PERCY, WAIT!”

Ciel was a few steps too slow to stop what was about to happen with the meeting. His indecisiveness at the moment left him with the other option of giving information from his dream to Annabeth or Thalia. Sadly, Annabeth was still recovering and wasn’t a hundred percent and then there was Thalia who left with Percy to talk to the father of humanity, Prometheus. If he wasn’t quick enough then the place of this “meeting” at Central Park would possibly cost not just the glimmer of hope in Olympus. 

Steeling himself, he hurriedly ran after Percy and Thalia to the meeting sight. He stole a horse from a passed-out patrol officer as he made his way to Central Park, though his horse riding wasn't the best he'd have to deal with discomfort until he reached his destination. After catching up to them within a reasonable time, Ciel dismounted the noble steed and gave it a soft pat before traveling to the meeting. He didn’t know if he was stepping on the leader's toes but given the gravity of a part of his dream coming true means, there is more to come. 

“Thalia, Percy!” Ciel managed to spurt out to them before taking a few breaths before dismounting the kind chestnut steed he rode on. “Prometheus is-“ 

“Hello, Ciel Ambrose Silverstein,” Prometheus the Titan of foresight and crafty counsel gave the boy a small smile. “Hm… your face is quite similar to someone I know.”

“Well I have one of those faces I guess,” Ciel said as he stared at Prometheus with concern. The Titan looked at the boy with a curiosity that bordered uncomfortable as he tried to decipher who he reminded him of that seemed to bug him. “I have a message for my leader, and I’d just be a moment-“

“Why shy away from that, my boy?” Prometheus said as he leaned forward from his seat where he attempting to parlay with Percy. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be so bad to keep it to yourself, right?”

Ciel felt a shiver down his spine but a slight warmth accompanied that sensation. Prometheus didn’t seem disingenuous about the fear or matter to come, hell, it was as though he wanted to take the Titan's advice and shut up. 

“No,” the young Silverstein thought to himself, “this isn’t right.”

“Now if you could leave us to our meeting that would be extremely helpful.” Prometheus beckoned Ciel to just hightail it out of there but the boy forced himself to stand his ground. 

He normally would back out of a confrontation be it his nature as a kid who’s been bullied for some time and a fear of authority figures but Prometheus wasn’t important or someone he’d deem important to him. The Titan was part of the enemy so he wasn’t gonna dance around the issue. 

“Percy, Prometheus is here to convince you to give up the fight! Titan forces are on the march to Central and I know I should have told you at the base camp but-“ Ciel was about to dive down the rabbit hole of explaining that he normally does but Thalia clamped a hand around his shoulder. 

“Easy,” Thalia said not taking her eyes off Prometheus, “Percy, you know this kid, right? Has he ever lied?”

“No, Ciel? Doesn’t have an ounce of liar in him.” Percy said confidently before returning his gaze before he continued his talk with Prometheus. 

Percy ultimately went with his choice of not trusting Prometheus to begin with and gathered the campers to prepare for battle. Though Ciel felt good about speaking up, he wasn’t confident his choice was the right one. If Percy was going to still say no to Prometheus then what point did he serve? Maybe the Fates thought it would be humorous in this time of great strife to put a kid with confidence issues into the fray. 

As predicted, the Titan Army forces began marching towards where the forces of Olympus were making their stand. The battle began as the army of Kronos sought to defeat the limited forces before them but with the aid of Daedalus 23, nature spirits, and satyrs brought by Grover Underwood, they had enough in numbers to hold off but for how long was uncertain. Hyperion, the Lord of the East, had entered the fray and the second scrimmage of the war had begun. 

Ciel worked along the Hunters of Artemis, Apollo cabin, and Clara in a mix of hit-and-run tactics to create discord among the enemy ranks. It was a common strategy they used during their capture-the-flag matches that often gave a slight edge pending the strength of numbers on the opposing side. 

The young son of magic would dodge and hide before beginning short rounds of firing arrows to maim his opponents. The smell of iron coming from open wounds, heaviness of monsters scents, violent torrents and heat created by Percy and Hyperion clash made the battlefield fear continue to rise. The aroma of war was intoxicating but his fear, Ciel's fear was shouting into his mind to run but he couldn’t as the music of the conflict and his friend's war cries kept him playing in this ballade. 

“Hide. Move. Shoot, shoot.” Ciel mantra as he made his way through the battlefield, jumping between nearby trees to have some level of higher ground to work against the monsters and demigods who didn’t expect him. His adrenaline caused his heartbeat to drum heavily as the fight or flight response chanted a melody like the percussion section of an orchestra. 

To him, when one monster or demigod was incapacitated another two or three would take his place. This wasn’t a game like Halo 2, this was a real war that no kid should experience and yet here he was fighting kids no older than him. All because they were scorned by the lack of attention from their godly parents? Well, Ciel could relate as he wished at times he knew his mother earlier in life. 

Now? He wished his mother he had was another goddess because no mother related to him could have earned his father's love. 

“Maybe she heard it,” Ciel pushed that out as he covered some of the Aphrodite kids from some espouses.

“Thanks, Silverstein!” The Aphrodite kids kept their defense of assorted perfumes up as Ciel continued picking off more monsters. 

“Quick! Get back!” Ciel arched backward as he shot a Greek fire arrow to give the Aphrodite kids some breathing room. “Regroup with who you can!”

He then left his perch as the Aphrodite kids regrouped with some of the Hunters and Hephaestus kids, making his to the ground to snatch what arrows he could from fallen foes or misfired spots. The issue with arrows like any form of projectile is that you can only have so many arrows. 

The wind started to pick up like hurricane season which could only mean one thing. Water rising from the Central Park reservoir began to encompass Percy and Hyperion. The wind howled long and the water roared a fierce cry as the hurricane forming took control of the tide of the battle. Soon the two were swept from view until Percy remained as he defeated Hyperion and several Kronos forces fell on the defense before retreating. 

“If only knew how to control my powers. If I had any…” Ciel caught the glimpse of the hurricane as it dispersed, amazed by the power that the son of Poseidon displayed though his lack of attention left him open for an attack. 

Without warning, Ciel felt a cut on his left arm before rolling away and pulling out a celestial bronze knife ready to defend himself. Though the figure that approached him wasn’t what he expected them to meet, the kid in his dreams. A teenager approximately sixteen years old with slightly crooked teeth, leathered armored with ancient runes, and playing cards?

“Well, you’re less impressive than I expected kid. Though you do have an eagle eye.” The teen shuffled his cards as a few demigods flanked him.

“And your acne looks gross like a Cyclops ass!” Ciel was not in expecting this and the cut on his arm did make his less than gentlemanly behavior come out. “Dad would have me put my tips into the swear jar.”

“Well, now that we have met I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Alabaster Torrington.” Alabaster spoke with a tone that he often heard from some of the more “eccentric” people he had met.

It wasn’t every day you met a half-sibling from your crappy witch of a “mother” though the resemblance was evident given his demeanor. Ciel could see how the Mist bent around Alabaster, how the magician veil seemed to bask him in a greenish aura. One thing was certain, he wasn’t gonna get away without a fight or better a distraction. Ciel looked both to his left and right flanks as he watched the forces of CHB working on their regression and if he shouted he wouldn’t be in a good spot, likely killed.

“What do you want?” Ciel asked as he secured his footing, assessing what would be his next move.

“I’ve come to get you. Mother wants you alive, you see, and I’m not going to disappoint her. Especially when have the advantage, Kronos will lead a new age for us all to rule. Those who are loyal will get all they wish but those who aren’t will be…” 

“Well, I haven’t had mom around for fourteen years. Didn’t need her then and don’t need her now, or you. Kronos army has killed so many people that meant something to me and my friends.” 

Ciel’s grip on his knife tightened as he remembered Castor's death in the Battle of Labyrinth. That day he couldn’t stop crying even in the night when should have slept. Castor was like a big brother to him when he first arrived, showed him around with Justin, and helped him learn the basics of magic. Castor even started his swordsmanship training while having a cold from a prank war with the Hermes kids. 

His death hurt more than anything up till the battle, seeing more of his camp mates dying trying to do the right thing. That July 2nd, 2008, will be the day he experienced death at its worst with Castor’s funeral and having to say goodbye. Hell, Mr. D checked on him during the funeral of the fallen for the briefest of moments. The two would share a moment where they both poured Cherry Coke into the eternal flames in mourning. 

If that wasn’t a family then he didn’t know what the Alabaster twist version would be. Alabaster was nothing to him, not a brother of his, and for sure not someone worth joining. Just because they have his mother on their side doesn’t mean he will betray the world for them when they haven’t done a thing for him. Justin, Clara, Lucille, Pollux, and Castor were his siblings, and his only parent was Alexander Silverstein. 

“You’re our mother's son after all. Come on, quit being a pain come willingly or it’s going to get rough for you.” Alabaster extended his arm, offering a hand to Ciel with a sincere smile.

“I’m Alexander Silverstein’s son. So that’s my answer, wanker!” Ciel spat at him as an arrow flew through the air, clipping Alabaster’s hand. 

“Fuck!” Alabaster gripped his hand as his team of demigods and monsters tried to find where the shot came from. 

“Stay away from my bro, you scrawny witch boy!” Justin said as he and a few campers, nymphs, and satyrs sprung out of the nearby pushes to take these guys down. 

Ciel ran to his allies to regroup but one of Kronos ’ demigods grabbed his hoodie, not a fun thing to get dragged by someone at least twice your size. But that meant doing dick things in war was warranted as the son of Hecate twisted in his hoodie and sliced his hand. Freed, he gave the demigod a swift kick below the belt before bolting away. 

“Why?!” The demigod whined their knees buckled and they squirmed in pain.

Rule number one of growing up in St. Augustine, Florida? You never play fair with people, cops, bullies, and alligators. Ciel sprinted further until he was just two yards from his allies before hearing “Duck” from Clara. Following suit, ducked down into a roll before setting his bow in one hand and grabbing an arrow from his quiver, loading it, and firing immediately as a hellhound pounced at him. With perfect timing the arrow hit along beast's throat with Clara's shield bashing the skull midair was something out of a Sam Raimi movie. 

“Move it!” Clara commanded as she and Ciel pushed back to their allies, taking cover behind trees as Alabaster and his team used a combination of magic, arrows, and monster donuts to keep them pinned as they pushed. 

“We need to get somewhere they can’t reach because half of our forces are almost out of the park,” Clara complained as she used the reflexive part of her shield as a mirror to get a count of the onslaught they faced.

“Why didn’t they wait?” Ciel complained as he peeked out but got yanked by his hoodie. Why couldn’t people stop that? “Hey!”

“Stay down, stupid!” Clara shouted. “Ah! I lost my count! Ciel, what are you doing?!”

The boy ignored her as he switched an arrowhead with a Greek fire grenade tip. Lucille Peters, Justin’s daughter of Hephaestus and the fourth friend of their group came up with the idea of making Greek fire grenades, the exact engineering behind it went over his head but he knew enough on how to set it up on arrowheads but he had a very limited supply. Most of the Greek fire supply was monitored and rationed for many traps to keep Camp Half-Blood safe from possible invasions of Kronos forces. The potential was there, however, but by the gods with what they needed for the conflict on short notice? Ciel was willing to take a few punishments for the chance for a Hail Mary idea. 

“Get everyone back Clara! Alabaster is here for me and I’m gonna give him me.” Ciel readied his arrow before calculating how to climb up the tree so he could get the best shot. “I’m gonna jump and you’re going to push me up with your shield. You’re stronger and I know it so cut the holding back and launch me, Ostá!” 

Ciel didn’t wait and made a quick dash towards Clara, angling her shield to be a trampoline and used all her strength (and the magical strength, a blessing perhaps) and sent the bold idiot into the trees. Landing in a tripod stance, both legs and his dominant arm securing himself before reading to shoot the arrow. This idea better work or he was screwed…

“Artemis and Apollo, guide my arrow and help me in this fight…” With that quick prayer, he let his arrow fly between his ally's defensive line and block Alabaster’s offensive line. It worked, the grass between them was burnt as the Greek fire spread in a manner of a diagonal line.

“Hey, Alabastard! You want me? Come get me!” Ciel shouted as he turned and patted his rear in a cartoonish fashion before bouncing from tree to tree, leaving his allies in the dust. 

Alabaster and his squad turned around and began to chase him to fulfill his mission, he wouldn’t him get away or fail. Enough of his siblings had died for the cause and he was going to make him see the light or take him off the board. Whether he likes it or not... 

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Fifteen.

Huge thanks to the little core group following this, as ever! :)

Previous Chapters - One  Two, Part One Part Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen

Words - 5,516

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Angel's POV

Opening my eyes at 8.35pm when darkness has finally fallen, I watch the blinds rise automatically, and since I didn't close the curtains last night after they came down it means the lightning flashing across the sky illuminates my whole room. It's the massive rumble and crack of thunder that makes Edie wake up very suddenly, sitting bolt upright in a startled fashion, her breathing erratic.

"It's just a storm," I reassure her, reaching out and patting her shoulder.

"My brain tricked me into thinking it was another explosion for a minute, shit," she pants, so shaken by it that I have no choice but to put my arms around her. 'Don't kiss her, don't kiss her, and furthermore, don't fucking kiss her' I think to myself.

"What did we say about last night being a one-time thing?" she asks, sounding a touch pained.

"I'm just putting my arms around you. Chill," I state, watching and feeling her relax a little bit after that. She leans back again and just watches the storm outside of the window, and I eventually do the same. This definitely feels a little awkward.

"Sorry I got a bit annoyed just then. I just, well, yeah.” I understand exactly what she's trying to convey, even though she can't quite find the words.

"I think we should spend a little time apart, not see one another for a week or so. It'll give us time to feel normal around each other again, and let the blood tie die down," I suggest, watching her nod but at the same time not look like she likes that idea. I can feel she doesn't either, just as she can probably feel that what I just said is truly the last thing I want, even if it is seemingly for the best.  

What I feel the most, or rather what I hear that’s most dangerous to the somewhat tense atmosphere, is the fact that her heartbeat speeds up as she looks at me, and it's driving me to distraction. Did I ever truly look at her as just a friend? I need to blink or look away from her, anything to stop those pretty blue eyes pulling me in further. But I can’t. So, I don’t. I kiss her again instead.  

"No," she mumbles, shaking her head and sighing. “Damn you. I want you so much.” Despite her pulling away, trying at least to hold back, she knows as much as I do that it’s pointless, falling into another kiss. This one we don't break apart from so easily, both wrapping around each other quickly as we kiss passionately but slowly, eventually with me turning onto her back and lying on top of her, kissing her shoulders and her neck. The little sigh of bliss that slips from her mouth... fuck, my cock would be like iron now, if I’d fed. Her legs wrap around my waist, her body inviting me even closer, our kisses gaining both heat and momentum, the feel of her nails dragging down my back causing my skin to erupt into goosepimples. Shit, the arousal. I swear, I could fuck her for days.

I haven't fed, though, so she's perfectly safe (i.e., I can't even get hard right now, let alone blow my load and kill her in the process) and even though I know I shouldn't be doing this, I just can't help it. Yeah, I definitely think we need some time apart. I say I can't help it, but it seems someone else can. That someone is neither me nor Edie.

"Angel! Get off her, now!" I hear Ursula yell from the hallway, actually making me jump a bit. She scares me when she's stern, and she never shouts. She must have suddenly felt my arousal near go through the roof at finally having Edie underneath me.

"I think you're in trouble," she whispers with a little snicker, pushing her hands against my chest while I move to get out of bed, locating my jeans and pulling them back on. I can feel my creator is waiting for me right outside the door. She doesn't even need to speak it; she's calling me silently. When I emerge and shut the door behind me, Ursula still doesn't even talk. Instead, she grabs me around the throat at speed and drags me down the stairs, pinning me to the front door.

"I only spent five minutes with Edie last night while you were out, but in those five minutes I picked up on quite a bit, and that lovely young lady upstairs does not deserve to die because you're horny. Control yourself, control this and just for once, have some fucking restraint," she warns, grabbing my dick and squeezing it until my eyes water blood. Yeah, we still find stuff like this painful; we just get over it quicker.

"Ursula, let me go, believe me I'm calm now," I grimace, my voice strained since she still has me around the throat. She gives a warning glare before letting go, walking down towards the kitchen. She can be formidable when she chooses to be, and when I'm in danger of going against both my own word and her advice, the fierceness in her will always rise. Looking up to the top of the stairs, I see Edie appear, coming down with Icarus and Thor following along behind her.

"I have to go, I've got to be in work in fifteen minutes. Call me in a week or so, when you've calmed down. Me too, for that matter," she says, while I somewhat reluctantly unlock and open the front door.

"Until a week or so, then. Take care," I reply, smiling thinly.

"Yeah, you too.” Returning a small twitch of her lips, she reaches out to squeeze my arm before turning and sighing quietly as she leaves. She's feeling pretty crap about all of this. Same, Edie. I do, too. Watching her get to the edge of the path and then exit onto the street, I turn and close the door behind me, walking across the large and wide welcome hall of the house to get to the kitchen where my creator is sitting at the table, reading today's newspaper. I sit down opposite her and wait until she’s finished the article and folded the paper again. I know she's angry with me, so I’ll wait for her to address me first.

"I heard what was said at the door. I think it is a good idea to leave a little time between now and your next meet with her. Do you remember how I taught you to control your urges for blood when you were young? You need to apply those methods to this situation. She's off limits, regardless of the fact it's obvious the attraction you have for her has now been reciprocated," she tells me in an even tone, her eyes staring right at me but not angrily any longer. Not as angrily as she did when she had me pinned to the back of the door, at least.

"I keep telling myself over and over, but then I just end up kissing her. Believe it or not, but I'm perfectly content just doing that, or rather I was," I state, raising an eyebrow. I can be mad at her, too, for interrupting something I was enjoying immensely.  

"Hah! Angel, the arousal I felt coming from you was akin to that of a silverback gorilla if you locked it away from all the females, and then fed it a thousand tablets of Viagra. Come off it," she challenges me with.

"Be that as it may, I hadn't even fed, so there was nothing else I could have done. Well, there were things I could have done to her, regardless of that," I trail off.

"But you won't!" she warns me sternly, pointing her finger and eyeing me sharply.

"But I won't,” I confirm, with much reluctance. “It'll be difficult, but I have to do it. I think too much of her to put her in danger, when that is the very last thing I want. Anyway, I gotta get to the shop. Hopefully some new windows and door panes got fitted today. See you later.”

"Think about what I said, and think about it well in the time between now and when you see Edie again." Ursula replies, picking up her paper once more as I turn to leave. I go back upstairs and dress properly and then head out to the shop at speed, arriving in just five minutes. I stop and purvey the damage done to the gas station, nothing but a scorched patch of land now with rubble and blown apart plastic, fuel pumps and timber everywhere. The debris littering the road has all been cleared into the area. Much to my bedevilment when I arrive at the shop, though, the windows are still boarded.

"Why haven't the windows been fixed yet?" I ask as I stride inside.

"Couldn't get a glazer until tomorrow morning, bro, oh and careful when you go into your office, the dogs are in there," Sal tells me, sitting at his usual area working on a very skinny guy having colours added to what will eventually be a full sleeve.

"Why hasn't one of their owners come to pick them up yet? And was this place cleaned after they'd been put away?" I ask sharply, still being able to smell a lingering trace of dog.  

"Karissa is on her way, and yes I cleaned the whole place after I put them in your office. What's with you tonight?" he snorts, stopping his work and excusing himself to his client to zoom to my side. "Really, what gives? You're being bossy, which usually means you’ve got shit on your mind." How right he is. We walk to my office, Dana and Dobbs barking like lunatics upon entrance, until they actually see it's me and then come running with their heads held low and submissively, tails wagging frantically. They know Sal and me because of course, we've been frequent guests at Eric's nest, where they reside with their owner. I reach out and stroke them both before moving to sit in my chair.

"Nothing you want to hear about. Human issues, shall we say," I mutter, knowing of course, he really won't want to hear it.

"Hmm." He leaves again quickly. Told you so, he's exactly the same as EZ when humans are concerned. He feeds from them, fucks them and has no further interest beyond that. Right now, I wish I could count myself as the same as them. I'd even go as far to say I wish I'd have been given another punisher, Ahmed, Joe or Max, for example, right from the beginning and never met Edie, never been pulled in by her, never imagined sinking my fangs into that gorgeous ass of hers while I was chained up in her chamber. If I'd have fed earlier this evening, she'd have been in so much trouble.  

A little later in the night, while both me and Eric are waiting for our respective clients to turn up, he has a few of his own ideas over how I can get around my little murderous problem.  

"Why don't you just run to the bathroom when you’re about to cum, lock yourself in there and jerk off until you're done? That'd work," he offers in his usual cheerful way.

"When was the last time you successfully managed to pull out of a woman just before you came, hmm?" I put to him, watching him look thoughtful and then frown.

"You make a very good point there," he chuckles, waving a finger in my direction while nodding, his laughing escalating. "Sorry." He looks thoughtful for a moment or two. What's he going to come out with next?

"You could silver yourself? Lie on your back and get Edie to put a chain across each wrist and one on your neck and then all she's gotta do is bounce on your cock for a while and the job's done!" he then suggests, while I just shake my head at him and roll my eyes.

"Would you be able to enjoy having sex while your skin is burning off?" I snort.

"I'll shut up now," he replies with a nod, making a zipper motion across his mouth.

"I know you're only trying to be helpful, old friend. You aren't giving me any options I haven't already considered in the past, though.” I've known Eric for ninety-three years now, and I know what he’s like. He likes to fix the problems of those he cares about. We used to kill off large numbers of the reanimated together before moving humans to places of safety back in the aftermath of the disaster, where he’d then help them more, securing their dwelling, going out to fetch them supplies. He’s always been a fixer. We're quiet for a while longer, before he speaks again. This time, though, he offers something I haven't thought of before.

"Maybe it'll be different with Edie, because you know her and on some small level, she means something to you? After all, the other women were just one night stand girls you'd only known a few hours," he suggests casually. I really haven't looked at it in that way before, but it still doesn't mean it's a viable option.

"I'm not prepared to take that risk, and I don't wish to discuss this any longer. It can't happen, I need to close the door on that." I grumble with finality, getting up when my client walks through the door, ready to have the side of his neck tattooed. I'm glad of the distraction from talking and thinking about Edie, and I plan not to mention her out loud again. I hope this will be something I can classify as out of sight, out of mind. I keep myself busy, starting tonight after work when there's a certain vampire I visit straight after I'm done at the shop.

"Oh how coincidental, I was just about to head out to find something to play with for the evening," Sissy tells me after opening her door to me.

"You found it." I smirk, before advancing on her hungrily. A second later and her dress is on the floor, a moment after that and she's over my shoulder while I'm slapping her bare ass all the way to the bedroom, and she's squealing her head off with mirth. Sissy's six hundred years old, so obviously a lot stronger than me, but she likes being submissive sometimes. She was only nineteen when she was made, too, with an ass you could bounce quarters off. Speaking of that ass, she loves being fucked up it as well, and by the time I'm doing just that, Edie is finally far from my mind. Well, in the six hours I spend fucking the hell out of Sissy, I think she is, until the vampire herself says something to me a little later on.

"Can I ask you something?" she says to me, her head rested on my chest while my hand plays with a strand of her long, blonde hair.

"You just did.” Predictably, I receive a fist in the stomach for it. "Quit it, bitch. I just made you come more times than you can count." I then add, batting the offending hand away from my abs.

"Thirty-three, actually. As for what I want to ask, who's Edie?" I look at her sharply, wondering how the hell she knows about her.  

"Why'd you ask?"  

"You don't remember saying her name a few times over the last six hours?" Any other woman would likely be really pissed off about that, but Sissy doesn’t give a shit, by the sound of it.  

"No, I really don't," I admit truthfully, because I honestly, have no recollection of calling out Edie's name while having sex with her. "There's only one thing for it. After we've rested, we can go out and feed, then come back here and this time, I'll make sure I get the name right." I then add.

A grin curls her pretty mouth. "I'm not tired yet, are you?"  

"Not very, I suppose," I admit.

"Good, that's all I needed to hear." Circling my nipple with her tongue, she then slowly works her way back down to my dick. If I can fuck my way to forgetting about Edie for a while, I'll do it. I really don't want her on my mind any more than she already is, especially when I'm having sex with Sissy again the next evening and I pick up on a flash of Edie's emotions, feeling she's not happy at all. I just hope she knows that I wish it was her I was with, and not anyone else.  

Edie's POV

"Edie, are the mashed potatoes stirred enough yet?" Aileen asks me from across the table, as I sit having dinner with her and her family.

"Huh? Oh," I mumble, shaken from my potato stirring, Angel thinking about daze.

"You alright, sport?" her husband, Mike asks me from the top of the table, picking up his napkin to wipe gravy from his thick moustache.

"Yeah, I'm just tired. That doesn't bode well, considering I have work in two hours, but meh." I shrug, pulling myself out of my daze and smiling widely. "So, how's that college paper going, Lewis?" I then ask one of the four boys around the table. Well, at twenty-five, I don't suppose I can lump in their eldest, Sonny, with that, especially since he's currently bouncing his eleven-month-old son on his lap. He's a single dad, his girlfriend Leonie tragically dying while giving birth to Luca. I never saw Aileen cry before that day, when she told us all at the CD what had happened. Mike nods at my answer and goes back to eating the chicken in front of him with gusto, while I at least attempt to eat a little more of my food. Being pissed off and eating has never gone well at the same time with me, though.

"It's really difficult, but I'm determined to get to fifteen thousand words, at least. I'll get extra credit for twenty, though," Lewis tells me. He's an engineering whiz, yet Aileen and Mike didn't have the money to send him to college, since it costs an absolute fortune (less people equal less colleges and fewer teachers in this day and age) and is definitely out of their reach since they still have seven who are dependant on them. He got in on a scholarship, since his aptitude with sciences put him as a front runner, especially since he expressed interest in joining the air force, which is only just establishing itself again. Aviation engineers and pilots are in great shortage.

"You'll get to twenty, son. No sweat! I mean, the way you can gabble on I'm surprised you're not there already." Aileen chirps, making everyone laugh. After eating a little more, I excuse myself from the table, not before clearing my plate and taking the plates from Trudi, Suri and Sonny, who are all finished eating as well. I then excuse myself again and head out onto the back porch to sit down and light myself a cigarette. I'm so annoyed, annoyed that I can feel right now that Angel is obviously fucking someone, I can feel it in his mood, he's aroused as hell, and it isn't with me. I want it to be with me, but that can't happen and I really hate it. What’s even worse? I feel hurt by it all.  

He's not even my boyfriend! Why do I feel hurt about him having sex with some other woman when I'm not even involved with him? Oh yeah, that's right. That night I spent with him after the explosion, it made him get under my skin even more than he already has. It probably meant more to me than him as well. Either that or he's taking his mind off me by having sex with as many women as possible, but I find that highly unlikely. Angel did reveal he has just two regular vampire women in his life whom he enjoys casual sex with. He’s probably with one of them, or both, some kind of rotation. It kills me, to think of it, him with someone else, especially since I can feel quite clearly that one thing prevails. He misses me on some level. I think it’s easier for me to try and ignore that, though.

The feelings I’m experiencing are stronger than through the blood tie we had before, but still not all that blinding now I'm away from him. They were intense when I was beside him. Being next to him, a place I miss being more than I ever imagined I would. They aren't all sexual, the things I feel about him. I like being around him, I feel really good when he's there. I've come to realise he is actually everything I'd look for in someone I intend to date. He's intelligent, talented, good looking, he makes me laugh, he makes me feel happy, shallowly, the body is a huge draw, and the fact that he's a vampire now only adds to the charm. Being away from him can only do me good, though. I just wish there was a way to sever this damn blood tie so I don't have to feel what he feels. I hate it.

"Come on, about time you unloaded to Aileen. You've been off for a couple of days, perhaps longer if I'm true. You sure you're over that gas station debacle okay?" the lady herself asks me, coming out with a cigarette in her mouth and a beer in her hand.

"Yes, I'm over that okay, honestly. It's just...” I begin, trailing off with a sigh. “Angel.” Immediately, she nods knowingly, like she expected me to say that. When I told people at work what had happened, of course I had to finally come clean them, that Angel and I had been seeing each other as friends. This'll be the first she hears with regards to those friendship lines beginning to become blurred, though.

"I thought you were going to come out with something like that. What it is with you two, hmm? I mean I know you're attracted to him, but yet you're only friends?" she asks, sipping her beer.

"It's kind of complicated. We are attracted to each other, but there's a big and very specific reason why we can't become involved like that. I can't tell you why, but trust me, it can’t happen, ever. Yet we both want it to be more. After it happened, the explosion that is, and after I was all healed again, we spent a long time lying there on his bed, just kissing. It was nice, but torturous, knowing it can never happen. I don't know how I can go back to being just friends after that. I'm glad we're currently taking a little time apart, because my head is all over the fucking place about it. The blood tie doesn't help, especially since it's much stronger than before," I explain, taking a long drag on my cigarette.

"I'm glad you told me, although I don't think you'll like my suggested remedy for the situation," she replies, giving me an apprehensive sideways glance.

"I'm prepared to listen.”

"Well, since you can't be with him in the way you want to be, and you think you can't ever see him as someone who is solely a friend and nothing more, if I were you, I'd cut him out of my life completely, save myself the worry and the heartache. It's somewhat drastic, but really, what else can you do? Having him in your life and not being able to actually have him as yours is going to be like sitting a type one diabetic in front of a massive stack of candy, and telling them they can look at it all they like, but they must absolutely not gorge themselves on the forbidden treats," she advises, while I sit and think on her suggestion, rather than dismissing it immediately.

Hearing that, it makes me feel sad. Mainly because I know it’s probably going to be the option I have to choose. “I don't like the idea, but you're right. What else can I do? Oh, and I like the analogy you used there, the diabetic and the candy.”

"And I like the fact you just used the word analogy. Word of the day?" she asks.

"Yup, well, Sunday’s" I confirm, smiling as she gives me a friendly shove with her shoulder.

"Proud of ya, I am," she mutters, smiling before sipping her beer. "Really, though, it's your call, toots. See how you feel about it all after you've spent this time away from him, and then make up your mind." She then adds, before she's distracted by her youngest daughter, Chloe.

"Mommy, can we have ice cream with the apple pie please?" she asks. This kid kills me, I swear. She borders on insanely cute.

"Is there enough for everybody, my little cherub?" Aileen asks, flicking her cigarette away and reaching to smooth her daughter's curls away from her face.

"There's one tub of vanilla and one of chocolate. I don't mind having chocolate," she tells us in her super serious four-year-old tones. It doesn't fail to make us laugh.

"Well then aunt Edie and I better get our butts back inside before Chloe eats all the chocolate flavour to herself!" She exclaims, pulling a big, aghast face at her little one before standing and scooping her up, while I stride to open the door, since my friend has her arm full. Nine kids and one arm, and she dressed, bathed and fed them all by herself when Mike wasn't there to help. She's incredible. She lost it in a farm machinery accident back in Mississippi when she was a young teen, so she’s been without it now for most of her life. I still don’t know how she copes.

After eating dessert, I help with the mountain of dishes, and then after listening Suri play us all the latest song she's learned on her guitar, Aileen and I leave for work, Trudi offering us a lift. Once there and down in my chamber, I feel clear and focused, my work meaning my mind is taken off Angel completely for the time I'm there, kicking the shit out of a truly contemptible man who used to beat on his children.

“Come here, you need mad Arab hugs," Ahmed tells me, sitting behind me and wrapping me in his gigantic arms as I sit on the roof smoking during my break a few hours later. I just told him virtually the same thing I did Aileen. "All I can say is, I can only imagine how it feels, since you obviously like him a whole lot. You haven't been like this about anyone since when you first met Sarah, and worried whether she was really interested or not." He then adds, resting his chin atop my head.

"I can't be, though. I just have to deal with it. I hate not getting my own way," I sigh. "I think I need to get laid, that'll take my mind off it. Hell, Angel can't be the only person I want to have sex with. That's it. Next time I go out, I'm going on a man or woman hunt." I then continue with.

"That's a damn good idea, my friend. If he's getting it out of his system, then why shouldn't you? I mean look at it this way; you could have a casual fuck with someone and it could turn into more, and then being friends with Angel wouldn't be as hard, because you'd be sexually distracted with someone else." I have to say, this is something I like the sound of more than Aileen's suggestion.  

That really could work, but I'm not about to go and jump into a relationship I don't want just to keep someone as a friend and distract myself from the fact that he's a friend I want to have sex with. Or, whoever said anything about a relationship? Last year me, and a guy named Chris I met had a casual sex thing for about five months. It was good. I make a mental note of this and continue with my evening, heading out with the guys and Aileen afterwards for a few drinks to our usual haunt, and having a really good time, too.

"You know that plan you had? I think it needs to put into action about now. She's been staring at you for the last half an hour," Ahmed says to me discreetly while nodding in the direction of a really pretty redhead sitting at the bar.

"I've noticed, I've been looking back too," I confide, just as she looks at me again and then winks.

"Get your ass over there, Bailey. You got a wink dude, you're in," he encourages, giving me a nudge with his elbow a few times.

"I ain't going right over there! She can wait, or she can come to me," I snort.

"Good game, girl. Good game." As it turns out, I do have good game, since by 4:30am, she's sitting on my lap, enjoying a few drinks with me and my friends. Her name is Katya, she's twenty-five and works as a dance instructor and part time showgirl at one of the big hotels on the strip. She's definitely got the legs for it, and they feel as nice as they look when I begin to run a hand up and down one of them.

"How far away is your place, then?" she asks, giving my ear a little tickle with her tongue.

"About ten minutes in a cab," I reply.

"Your place is nearer than mine. Let's go." She says, before moving to stand. You'd laugh at the speed I just stood up at.

"Edie's scored!" Wilson announces loudly, receiving a shove in the side from Ahmed, even though he laughs, while I give him the middle finger and then say goodnight to everyone. I'm off to enjoy myself a whole lot, and not think about Angel at all. It's decided. By the time we get back to mine, we're bordering on undressing in the cab, and I manage to find my way up the drive backwards while we kiss, stumbling and giggling with her a few times, all the while with this feeling like we're not alone.  

Once inside, I take her hand and lead her to the bedroom, pushing her back onto my bed and sitting astride her hips, pulling up her top and unclipping her bra. We begin to kiss as my hands find her tits, circling her nipples with my short nails until they harden, lowering my mouth to suck each of them in turn, while she begins pulling me out of my clothes, until I'm completely naked. Grabbing the top of my arms she turns me over onto my back, kissing my neck with sumptuous purpose, while her hand runs down and into my underwear, her fingertips starting to rub softly at my clit as our mouths connect again. I run my fingers through her near waist length hair, and then around to squeeze her ass before the moment is halted abruptly.

"Shit! There was a guy just staring through the window, through the gap in the curtains," she suddenly shouts, jumping off me and covering her chest.

"Wait here," I tell her, putting my bra and jeans back on and then heading out of the room and around to the lounge to let myself outside.

"I know it's you, you know. I know you followed the cab home. What did we say about spending time apart? Last time I checked, that didn't include following me home," I hiss tersely in whisper to what appears to be an empty backyard. I know he's lurking, though; I can feel him watching me. Also, the blood tie seems strong because right now I can feel his mood perfectly clearly. That mood is burning jealousy over Katya.

"Fine, be a coward and hide." I mutter, trying to deliberately goad him out. Nope, that doesn't work either. Besides, he's too clever to succumb to such. Sighing, I head back in and lock up, going back into the bedroom and closing the curtains fully before returning my focus to Katya.

"No one there, so, where were we?" I ask as I sit astride her, lacing my fingers through hers. She grins and then leans up to kiss me, and we continue roughly were we left off. Angel remains outside until the sun comes up too, because I can feel the jealously pouring out of him for the entire time.

[childofchrist1983]

Then one of the twelve, called Judas Iscariot, went unto the chief priests, And said unto them, What will ye give me, and I will deliver him unto you? And they covenanted with him for thirty pieces of silver. And from that time he sought opportunity to betray him. - Matthew 26:14-16 KJV

We will never really know why Judas betrayed Jesus. We know he did it for money, but was money enough to explain betraying a close friend and companion? We know that he regretted what he did, but instead of asking for forgiveness, he went out and hanged himself after giving back the money. Perhaps he wasn't fully aware of what the chief priests had planned. Is this a good enough reason to justify his actions?

I know that there have been times in my life that I haven't been fully aware of the consequences of my decisions. Sometimes, the damage caused was minor and other times the unseen consequences caused damage that could not be rectified. We all make choices every day and some of them may result in damage to ourselves or others. The person who had that extra drink before driving didn't know that his delayed reactions would cost a mother her life. The choice to spread rumors could cost an employee her job. There are so many opportunities to get ourselves into trouble and they usually begin with thinking about what we want, and not what is good for someone else.

There's a saying, "Act in haste; repent at leisure." This is what happens when we speak or act before we think. When these things happen, we are also betraying Jesus. We may not be handing him over to the chief priests to be killed, but our sins are a part of the burden that Jesus bore on the cross. May we examine our hearts and ask forgiveness for the times our thoughtless actions have caused pain to others. As Jesus Christ forgave us, let us also be willing to forgive those who have caused us pain.

Thank Father God Almighty and the LORD Jesus Christ for His almighty power and saving grace. For He alone is able to save us, forgiving our sins and gifting us eternal salvation and entry into His Kingdom of Heaven. It warms my heart to experience the restful peace and presence of His Truth, light and love and to hear the delight and joy in song as He and all of Heaven celebrates my rescue, and it is with joy and thanksgiving that I raise my voice in praise, rejoicing and song to celebrate with Him, and all because of Him. May we all feel the same.

May we make sure that we give our hearts and lives to God and take time to seek and praise Him and share His Truth with the world daily. May the LORD our God and Father in Heaven help us to stay diligent and obedient and help us to guard our hearts in Him and His Holy Word daily. May He help us to remain faithful and full of excitement to do our duty to Him and for His glorious return and our reunion in Heaven as well as all that awaits us there. May we never forget to thank the LORD our God and our Creator and Father in Heaven for all this and everything He does and has done for us! May we never forget who He is, nor forget who we are in Christ and that God is always with us! What a mighty God we serve! What a Savior this is! What a wonderful Lord, God, Savior and King we have in Jesus Christ! What a loving Father we have found in Almighty God! What a wonderful God we serve! His will be done!

Thanks and glory be to God! Blessed be the name of the LORD! Hallelujah and Amen!

[fashionitforward]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Chakras, Food, and You: Tap Your Individual Energy System for Health, Healing.

[writerobscura]

Read full post under the cut:

October is my favorite month for many reasons. One, I’m Polish. Two, I’m a Halloween fanatic. Three, autumn is glorious—I could go on.

I’ve tapped out 29 chapters of the TL&TO, and I’m still having fun with it. I think that might be a new record. Only nine chapters are edited to capacity (I won’t touch them again), but what a great high it is to keep creative focus and stay on a production track.

My numbers (included are numbers from syndicated platforms):

Bear House: 213 re-subscribed, with 194 returning every update. Tapas: 47 Subscribers with 8 returning every update. Archive of Our Own: 6 Bookmarks with 12 returning every update. Pixiv: 7 Bookmarks with 7 returning every update.

Bear House: Back in August, I purged most subscribers to ascertain who actually reads, as opposed to bot accounts skirting WordPress security and ninja bloggers seeking hits with comments and ‘likes, ‘ none of which are visible on my posts. Engagement with the work (and not the site itself) is my goal for this web serial, and many subscribers attached to Femitokon weren’t reading TL&TO.

Overall, I was highly satisfied with how many people came back. Since redesigning the site with the ‘Fictioneer’ theme, which looks and feels like an eReader (readers can choose text size, line width, fonts, etc.), I’ve been getting about 1-2 new subscribers a month.

I don’t promote much on the other platforms. I announce chapter updates on Insta, Tumblr, and Facebook with a Linktree link, and I tap out the occasional post at the Tapas Forums. I’m not happy with the Tapas numbers because most are clearly reciprocity subs from other writers who are not interested in reading my series.

I couldn’t understand why they would do this until I learned that Tapas doesn’t allow creators to earn ‘ink’ until they reach a certain number of subscribers + likes. Ouch. I continue posting there because I sub to a few series and read when possible – but it’s no longer my priority.

My impetus for syndicating at Tapas when I began writing TL&TO was the opportunity to purchase promotional space from them for my series. I planned to get about fifteen chapters in before ‘advertising,’ but Tapas did away with this feature about four months into my posting there.

AO3 completely caught me off guard. My fanfic always did well there because it’s AO3, but posting original work and expecting readers is like watching hair grow – or so I thought. Femitokon bombed there – ZILCH – no readers, but TL&TO boasts twelve regular readers, and my Kudos counts are ridiculously high for what is an original work. The AO3.gay mirror brings a large percentage of those numbers, and I hope it keeps growing.

Pixiv, like AO3, is a haven for fanfic and fan art, so my expectations remain grounded. I’m chuffed that seven English-reading users return every update, though, like many Tapas readers my story attracts, they’re the sort that doesn’t ‘HEART’ chapters as proof they’ve read it.

Bear House gets much more traffic with the Fictioneer theme, and my focus in the future is promoting TL&TO there over the syndicated platforms. Comments and conversations are private by choice of the commenter (I love that!), and reader engagement has so far been positive for me.

I still get the occasional ‘If you make this into a comic, I will read it.’ Ugh. My comics days are over because too much attention from strangers brings out the worst in me.

Would I be open to it? Sure, but would I take part in promoting it? NOPE. I learned my lesson from the past – too much attention brings out my toxic side. If you’re an artist who wants to turn TL&TO into something sequential, have at it. Just mention my name in passing, and keep me credited as the writer – anyone gives you crap about it, direct them here.

[gertlushgaming]

Taxi Life: A City Driving Simulator Review (PlayStation 5)

Taxi Life: A City Driving Simulator Review, Climb into the driver's seat of your car and your business, transport passengers across Barcelona, and grow your company! Can you help relieve the transportation challenges of a city that never sleeps?

Taxi Life: A City Driving Simulator Review Pros:

- Decent graphics. - 6.71GB download size. - Platinum trophy. - Controller settings - can remap controls, vibration intensity slider, and set controller type. - Character and company creator - name, avatar (four choices), company name, logo (twelve choices), and company colors. - Opening flyover of Barcelona with facts and points of interest shown. - You start by doing a driving school set of tasks. - Voiced narrator. - Four driving views including bumper and out of car behind. - In the car camera lets you look out the side windows, lean forward, and also look over the headrest behind you. - The full damage model is in play. - A radial dial can be used for easy access to menus and when open it slows down time. - A full 3D world with camera control. - After a job, you get a breakdown showing exp earned, cash earned, distance traveled, and a 1 to 5-star rank with a customer patience score. - The map allows you to select any available job. - When jobs and directions are given you get the route on your mini map to help. - The game uses the rules of the road and you earn exp by following it like indicating and braking. - During jobs, you can get Interactive prompts from the passengers. - Landmarks can be seen on the map and visited for bonus exp. - You can get a car wash and even watch it happen in real-time, what a treat. - Petrol stars ions let you manually top up or fill it all the way automatically. - The game offers petrol and electric cars. - Player progression is a series of skill trees you put your skill points into and they are split into - driving, proficiency, maintenance, law obedience, and company. - Garages are where you go to repair your car, customize your taxi, and buy new vehicles. - Full stats screen. - Three difficulties - Easy, normal, and hard. - Gearbox modes - Arcade, semi-arcade, simulation, and simulation and clutch. - Supports steering wheels. - Gameplay settings - acceleration sensitivity slider, braking sensitivity slider, and then both again at low and high speed. - Save and load when you want. - Speed cameras are dotted around and do show on the map. - Breaking any road rules takes money off you. - It's a chilled-out relaxing experience. - Accidents can happen and show on the map. - Bonus street graffiti to find around the world. - You can put your own map markers down. - Level up to get better exp rates including one for having no passengers. - Play how you want. - Day and night cycle. - Customizing your car lets you do the interior color and dashboard items like Bobbleheads and the gearstick nob. - Upgrade parts of your car like transmission type and wet tires etc. - Eventually, you can create and run your own taxi firm. - Great checklist gaming. Taxi Life: A City Driving Simulator Review Cons: - Can only pick four male avatars, no female ones, and no way to change or edit them. - Minimal controller settings until you actually get into the game itself. - No graphics settings. - The game encourages you to use your handbrake by having your car constantly moving backward, even in cutscenes and text prompts. - The voiceover sounds like a computer voice. - Driving is fine but it does need time to fit or a few weeks of the sensitivity sliders as out of the box it's all or nothing. - Road rules and all of that stuff only come into play when you have a passenger as it's only enforced by speed cameras and the occasional police seeing you. - The AI is really bad at times like not obeying the rules intentionally ramming you or staying at a green light. - No radio or game music. - The handbrake is ridiculously sensitive. - Hitting the points of interest for exp is not ideal as you have to hold a button down and on a particular angle for it to count. - It's possible to get stuck many times on other cars or the scenery. The only fix I found was to save and quit the game. - The camera shake for crashes is way over the top. - It's not possible to just take a fare, you have to select the customer on the map to trigger the fare. - Takes a while to get going. - Having to always name your save even when overwriting one is a pain. Related Post: As Dusk Falls Review (PlayStation 5) Taxi Life: A City Driving Simulator: Official website. Developer: Simteract Publisher: NACON Store Links - PlayStation  Read the full article

[600shekels]

2 Chronicles 12: 1-4. "Exulted Proverbially White."

Shishak Attacks Jerusalem

Shishak is the Alabaster in the National Lily Flower, the Magen David.

שש

There's an odd correlation between the color white and the number six. The nouns שש (shesh) and שיש (shayish) mean alabaster, which is a whitish translucent material. The identical word שש (shesh) means six. The noun שושן (shushan) describes the lily, which has six leaves and is proverbially white. 

The relatively rare verb שוש (sus) or שיש (sis) means to exult or rejoice, and its nouns ששון (sason) and משוש (masos) mean exultation, joy or gladness.

12 After Rehoboam’s position as king was established and he had become strong, he and all Israel[a] with him abandoned the law of the Lord. 

2 Because they had been unfaithful to the Lord, Shishak king of Egypt attacked Jerusalem in the fifth year of King Rehoboam. 

3 With twelve hundred chariots and sixty thousand horsemen and the innumerable troops of Libyans, Sukkites and Cushites[b] that came with him from Egypt, 4 he captured the fortified cities of Judah and came as far as Jerusalem.

Twelve Hundred Chariots and 60,000 horsemen= Gematria of 2765, which means "Abed and 27 and 5" = "Abed and 32, גב, = "into the Work of the Light and Back."

Libyans=Cyrene= of high social standing

Sukkites= of celestial appearance

The masculine noun שכוי (sekwi), denoting some kind of celestial appearance (Job 38:36 only).

The feminine noun שכיה (sekiya), probably meaning image or appearance as well. It occurs only once, in Isaiah 2:16.

The feminine noun משכית (maskit), meaning show-piece (Leviticus 26:1, Numbers 33:52) or imagination (Proverbs 18:11, Psalm 73:7).

Cushites= "very knowledgeable"

Comes from Cush= very dark, from the South

Egypt=married to tragedy

"Away from the tragedy, one performs the Work of the Light and obtains the Origins of the Self, attains to a glossy appearance, high social standing and the pre-eminence of knowledge."

...

In the Fifth Year of Expansion, Egypt attacks with "exultation". According to our sages, the Fifth Year is when we decide just how good life is going to be or not. It is surely a mature adult's decision about how the rest of his days are going to go.

The Tanakh says all Jews, no matter their stage of life, are always alive during the Fifth Year. The fact Egypt sued for its indepenence from Israel is an indication the choice was coming to Israel one way or the other:

In both the realm of the holy and the realm of the profane, we have no input into the nature of the deed. The only thing we decide is what we will do.

Will we do the mitzvah, or will we allow the opportunity to bring G‑dliness into the world pass us by? Will we create a void in our souls by transgressing the divine will, or will we strengthen our character and give pleasure to the Almighty by resisting the temptation? The mitzvah is a mitzvah regardless of whether we do it or not, and the transgression is a negative deed whether or not we succumb to it.

Our actions have a profound effect on our own inner being and on the state of creation, but do not define the nature of the deed. The rules exist independently of ourselves — the only real choice we have is to conform to them or rebel against them.

The strange thing here is the order. One would think that the proper sequence would be from the bottom up — forbidden, optional, holy. Instead, we go from one extreme to the other and then end up in the middle.

In truth, however, the fifth year is the loftiest of all. Here, in the domain of the optional, is where the most meaningful aspect of life is acted out. Here we not only determine what we will do, but also what the significance of our deed will be. The raw clay of creation is placed before us, while the Creator stands by and waits to see what we will make of it.

All of this is embodied in the Pure Exulted Whiteness of the National Flower which one would presume is pushed to the surface by the King of Israel who always leads the way out of Egypt to personal and national greatness.