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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 5 months

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1968 [Chapter 8: Demeter, Goddess Of The Harvest]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 6.2k

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Is it a story worth telling? I think so. It’s better than nothing. It’s better than watching raindrops slither down the cracked concrete walls until the prison guards come back to bloody us again.

Today I’m sending John McCain taps in the shape of the tale of Io. John has a hard time tapping back—they’re doing something to his shoulders, they’re destroying him—but he likes to listen. He’s getting it a lot worse than I am; perhaps even the North Vietnamese fear Aemond’s retribution if I die here. They should be afraid of him. He thinks he owns everything he touches, and he’ll snap bones to keep it.

So anyway, Io was a king’s daughter, a mortal who Zeus saw and wanted and took when her father kicked her out to avoid the god’s wrath. That’s easily half of Greek mythology, right? Zeus appears, irrevocably fucks up someone’s life, vanishes in a plume of clouds and thunder. He leaves human rubble behind him: ribs, nerves, disembodied hearts that leak blood from torn ventricles, minds broken in two. Zeus impregnated Io and then turned her into a cow to hide her from his wife Hera, ever-watchful, ever-vengeful, an aspiring mass murderess. When this disguise failed, Hera condemned Io to wander ceaselessly through the wilderness, tormented by the constant stinging of a gadfly. Eventually, Zeus returns Io to human form and she pops out a few bastard kids, as if Zeus needs any more of those. Then he ditches her and she marries some Egyptian dude. There are other details that I’ve forgotten. I don’t think John McCain will know the difference.

I’m sure you’re wondering how I acquired all this fabled trivia. I don’t seem like the type to lie around under trees reading folklore from religions that died thousands of years ago. You’re right, I’m not. But Aemond is. He would tell the stories, and Helaena would embroider scenes on quilts for us to burrow under in the winter, and I would dramatically act out the best parts (mostly murders), and Aegon would scribble comics in jagged black pen strokes. He has all these notebooks down in the basement filled with his new versions of ancient myths: Poseidon as a horny dolphin, Aphrodite as Marilyn Monroe.

Wait, I remember what I skipped. While Io was roaming across the globe, she bumped into Prometheus—chained to a rock for giving humans the gift of fire—and he cheered her up somehow. I guess meeting a guy who gets his liver continuously chewed out by a giant eagle would make me more appreciative of my circumstances too.

I have a lot of time to myself here in solitary confinement. My social circle is microscopic. I tap to John through the wall, I have dinner dates with Tessarion the rat. And I think about my family. They’re fucked up, but I miss them. I miss going to Monmouth Park with Fosco to bet on horse races, I miss getting hammered with Aegon while he sings Johnny Cash or Beatles songs. I miss my mother and Helaena and Criston. I even miss Aemond’s wife, though I only met her a few times before I deployed. She’s sharp, she’s hilarious. She’s mean as hell to Aegon, and sometimes he deserves it.

At first I wondered why Aemond hasn’t gotten me out yet, but I understand now. It sounds a lot better to have a brother being tortured as a prisoner of war than one who received a Get Out Of Jail Free card. It’s the kind of thing Aemond would consider. He understands which stories are worth telling.

I feel kind of bad for her. Aemond’s wife, I mean.

I don’t think she knows about Alys.

~~~~~~~~~~

On a chilly mid-September morning cloaked in fog, Mimi is laid to rest in the Targaryen family mausoleum at Saint George Greek Orthodox Cemetery in Asbury Park, New Jersey. Most of the golden plaques already have names chiseled into them: Viserys and Alicent, Fosco and Helaena. Aegon will one day be interred beside his wife. You have a spot reserved next to Aemond. All of you have already lived and died and been entombed; all of this was predestined by the stars eons before you had blood or bones.

Ari’s vault—an unnaturally tiny drawer, less than half the size of anyone else’s—is located just above yours. You can’t stop staring at it. You can’t hear anything the bearded priest in his black robes is chanting. Then Cosmo squeezes your hand and you look down at him. Mimi’s other children are somber but seem to be coping well enough—they are used to being raised by consensus, they would probably be more affected if one of the nannies died—but Cosmo always wants to be near you. He gazes up with those vast, wet, murky blue eyes, so much like Aegon’s, and you offer him a sad, reassuring smile. Cosmo smiles back. And you think: Life goes on.

Alicent is sniffling noisily; it echoes off the walls of the mausoleum. Criston—a man with no plaque assigned to him—is trying to console her. Aegon is watching you from across the cold granite chamber, grim and red-eyed in his black suit, the first time you can remember seeing him in one since your wedding. He wears no small gold hoops, only a row of stitches in his right ear. He wants to say something, to do something, but he can’t. Aemond is beside you, a hand heavy on your waist but muttering something to Otto. Back in Omaha, Otto had spent a few hours alone with the medical examiner, and when the death certificate was issued it revealed that Mimi died of a heart defect, a perfectly blameless sort of misfortune, an innate impending disaster. And so that’s what the newspapers printed, and any gossip to the contrary is confined to salacious rumors, untrustworthy and unproven.

When the ceremony is over, journalists are waiting to scavenge for photos and quotes under the guise of expressing their sympathies. It’s a shameless display, though they at least have the decency to wait by the cemetery gates. Aemond and Otto go to meet them. Alicent, Criston, Helaena, and Fosco, protective of the children, keep them far away from the feeding frenzy, hungry-eyed reporters like sharks without fins. Ludwika is reapplying her lipstick. Aegon is smoking a Lucky Strike and talking to his oldest son, Orion, a stilted exchange that holds the promise of turning warm with time.

You sit on a stone bench and Cosmo curls up beside you, rests his head in your lap, dozes off as you thread your fingers through his wavy blonde hair. In the mist there are shadows of gravestones and trees that turn skeletal as they shed their leaves.

“He is okay?” Fosco says as he ambles over, meaning Cosmo. He has his hands in the pockets of his slim black trousers that stop at his ankles. His suit is velvet, his eyeglasses speckled with drizzle from the slate-grey sky.

“He’s alright. He’s resting. Are you okay?”

“Oh,” Fosco sighs mournfully. “I keep thinking someone is missing. We came into this family together, Mimi and I. We got married six months apart. I have never had to do this without her. And I know she had her problems, but she was different when she was younger. She always liked a party, that’s why she and Aegon got along so well at first. But she was so loud and so funny, always telling these long stories, and everyone in the room would be grinning as they waited for the good part. Viserys loved her. Otto loved her. And then she had all those children one after the other, and that was hard, and Aegon self-destructed when he was the mayor of Trenton, and that was worse, and she was supposed to fix him and she couldn’t, the harder she tried the farther he ran from her. She started drinking her Gimlets before dinner, and then after lunch, and by the time you showed up it was never ending. But that wasn’t who she really was. She was like a moon that got smaller and smaller until the only thing left was a sliver.”

This family breaks people. This family kills people. “We’ll make ossi dei morti for Mimi tonight. I’ll help you, and we can teach the kids.”

Fosco smiles, swipes a tear from beneath his glasses, squeezes your shoulder with one wiry hand. “I am very glad you are still here.”

“I’m not trying to race you to that mausoleum.”

Fosco laughs. And then he says as he spies Aegon approaching: “Um…I will go avoid the paparazzi somewhere else.”

“You don’t have to leave, Fosco.”

“It is no trouble. And I suspect you enjoy your very rare privacy.” Fosco gives you a knowing glace and then heads back to where Helaena, Alicent, and Criston are lingering with the rest of the children. Now Ludwika is fluffing her blonde curls with her French tips, a smoldering Camel cigarette tucked between two fingers.

Aegon comes to you through the mist, plops onto the bench, and looks fondly down at Cosmo—now fast asleep, his face smooth and peaceful—before he speaks. “I can’t grasp that she’s really gone. We barely spoke for years, but she was always there, you know? Christ, she deserved better than this. She could have been happy somewhere else.”

“Your children need you.” It’s not the first time you’ve said it, but it’s the first time he believes you. He nods, staring out into the fog. “They have to get away from this whole circus for a while. And you have to learn how to be a real parent.”

“I’ll have time to work on it. I’m staying here. I’ve already been informed.”

You are alarmed. “What? By who?”

“Aemond and Otto.” Aegon says. “When the rest of you fly west, my kids and I will be at Asteria.”

“They’re getting you off the campaign trail,” you realize.

“They’re putting me on house arrest.”

Not seeing Aegon, not being near him? How long can I stand that? “I’m sure you’re relieved. You hate the grandstanding and the media.”

He shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I won’t be alone. I have Fosco and Ludwika.”

“I’ll talk to them.”

“About what?”

“About the fact that they need to look out for you.”

“Aegon, I’ve been doing the political wife thing for over two years.”

“But it’s different now.”

He’s right, it is.

“You’ll call, won’t you?” he asks. “You’ll let me know how the trip is going, you’ll tell me if anything bad happens? Because I can always get on a plane and meet you wherever you are. Otto might pay someone to murder me, but I’d risk it.”

“Of course I’ll call.”

“Hey.” Gently, he turns your face so you can’t hide from him. “Will you be okay without me?”

I have to be. I don’t have a choice. Instead you reply: “I’ll miss the weed.”

The tension breaks and Aegon smiles, and then he pats your cheek twice with his open palm. “Behave yourself.” He waves Ludwika over, interrupting her meditative chain smoking.

“What, what?” Ludwika says. “Are we leaving soon? Yes, it is so sad what happened to Mimi, but us standing around in the rain won’t resurrect her. And I look terrible in black.”

“I can’t be there for the last leg of the campaign.” Aegon points to you. “I need you to pay attention and check in with her at least a few times a day.”

“This is a common request. I should get a degree in it so I can charge people.”

Aegon furrows his brow at her. “What are you talking about?”

Ludwika smirks as she puffs on her Camel. “You are not the first person to ask me to keep an eye on her.” She nods subtly towards Aemond, then sashays off to give a quote to the journalists.

~~~~~~~~~~

In San Diego, Aemond meets with residents of a new public housing complex to hear their concerns about neighborhood jobs and infrastructure. In San Jose, he visits labor activist Caesar Chavez—being treated for debilitating back pain at O’Connor Hospital—and expresses support for the ongoing boycott of all grapes produced in the state. In Sacramento, he attends a Jimi Hendrix concert and receives a standing ovation from the audience; the next day he joins high school students protesting for a more inclusive curriculum. In Oregon, he makes a speech at Portland State University acknowledging the tremendous cost of the Vietnam War—in money, in time, in blood—and pledges to begin dismantling U.S. involvement as soon as he is sworn into office in January. Aemond talks about hope and despair, the bleak reality and the American Dream, and he is so overwhelmed by the crowd that he doesn’t even notice when someone takes his cufflinks as souvenirs. His lack of concern for his own safety exasperates Criston, but Aemond can’t be convinced to increase his security or his distance. If he expects the disaffected masses to carry him to the White House, he has to be real to them.

“What if another Wallace supporter tries to shoot you?” Criston demands. “What if a Nixon stooge stabs you or a crowd tramples you?”

“No one can kill me,” Aemond says, grinning wryly. “I’m not supposed to die yet. I’m supposed to be the president. It is God’s will.” And how can anybody disagree when that appears to be so true?

The earth dies as you drive north, summer withering into autumn. That familiar brisk cuttingness reappears in the air. You shake thousands of hands, smile for countless photographs. Mothers and wives of dead soldiers sob into your shoulder as you embrace them; teenage girls ask how they can get a good man like Aemond. Only one thing is missing from his glorious pilgrimage: something he wants desperately, something he cannot have (though he’ll never know why), you conceiving his child in time to announce it before Election Day. Each morning you sneak a pill and every night you bite the bullet. As often as you can, you duck into Dairy Queens to order lemon-lime Mr. Mistys.

George Wallace is in the South, galvanizing segregationists and accepting the endorsement of the Ku Klux Klan. Richard Nixon is working his way across the Midwest. He has chosen a politically moderate Greek as a running mate, Spiro Agnew; this does not strike you as a coincidence. He even shares a name with Aegon’s second son.

Nixon promises “peace with honor” in Vietnam, which means no immediate end to the draft. He makes speeches about “states’ rights” and “law and order,” ambiguous euphemisms designed to attract Wallace’s white supremacists without alienating too many suburban moderates. He commiserates with those lamenting the proliferation of sex, drugs, and divorce. He says he will return the nation to a more moral time. You wonder what he means. You can’t think of any such refuge in the bloodletting, spine-crushing history of mankind.

A kindergarten teacher tells you in Olympia, Washington, her eyes alight with reverence usually reserved for heroes, saints, gods: “People are voting for Aemond, but they’re voting for you too.”

And you find yourself thinking as a thousand miles roll by beyond the glass of limousine windows: How many people will I condemn if I don’t help Aemond win? How many lives is mine worth?

~~~~~~~~~~

The Hotel Sorrento in Seattle insists on giving you and Aemond the honeymoon suite: a retreat from the breakneck campaign, a romantic oasis for the future president and first lady…according to half the country, anyway. You are in the impractically large pink bathtub, surrounded by snowy dunes of bubbles. The wall to your right is a mirror, foggy around the edges; just a few yards to your left is the king-sized bed. In the top drawer of your nightstand is the card Aegon gave you in July. You aren’t sure where Aemond is, and you don’t especially care. You are relieved to be alone.

There’s a passion-red phone built into the rim of the tub, conveniently located for sudden room service revelations, champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries, steak and lobster. You have a different idea. It’s 7:15 p.m. here, so after 10 on the East Coast. On the steam-slick keypad, you dial the number for the main house at Asteria.

Eudoxia picks up and demands gruffly: “Geiá sou? Ti?”

“Hi, Doxie. Is Aegon around?”

“Where else would he be? Making himself useful somehow? Killing communists, driving a rocket to the moon? No. He is a burden as always.”

“Please be nice to him. His wife just died.”

“And so he cannot put his empty cups in the sink?” Without waiting for a reply, she sets the handset down on the kitchen counter with a clunk. There is distant, muffled shouting in Greek; she seems to back and forth with somebody. Then Eudoxia returns. “Antio sas,” she says, and hangs up just as a phone elsewhere in the house is lifted from its cradle.

Aegon answers with something halfway between a groan and a yawn. “Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Hey!” You can hear it riding the wire like electricity: a rustling as he sits up, a fresh clarity in his skull. His voice is deep, hushed, still husky with sleep. “What’s up, little Io? Any interesting happenings to report from your neighborhood of the solar system?”

“I just left a riveting tea party. Apple cinnamon scones and smoked salmon sandwiches. We talked about what kind of couches I should get for the White House and I wanted to kill myself. Are the kids okay?”

He’s smiling; you can tell. “They’re alright. I could have used you this afternoon. I was trying to help Spiro with his math homework. Trying, not succeeding.”

“Well he’s in middle school and thus beyond your skill.”

“How’s Jupiter?”

You know who he means. “I don’t want to talk about Aemond.”

“Okay.” Aegon says, curious. “So what should we talk about?”

A few seconds tick by, silent and perilous. “Where are you right now?”

“In my lair. Like a beast.”

“Alone?”

A transitory pause. “At the moment.”

“On the shag carpet or your futon?”

Now he’s very intrigued. “Futon. Why?”

“I just want a visual.” Beneath the water, your free hand is resting on the velvety inside of your thigh.

“Where are you?” Aegon asks.

“You wouldn’t believe it.”

“Maybe I want a visual too.”

You chuckle, peeking over at yourself in the mirror. Your skin is dewy with steam; stray wisps of hair stick to your face. “I’m in a gigantic pink bathtub. It’s ridiculous, it’s shaped like a heart and everything. They have a phone installed right here in case I find myself in desperate need of filet mignon.”

“Oh.” And then he hesitates, like he’s afraid to say the wrong thing. “Big enough for two?”

“More like five. You should get a tub like this for your basement, it would delight the campaign staffers.”

“My basement’s been pretty empty recently.”

Softly, vulnerably, glass offered for him to shatter: “You aren’t seeing other girls?”

“Nah, babe. I want something they can’t give me.”

You picture him, messy hair falling over his forehead, drowsy eyes that gleam with clandestine wisdom. You can smell the smoke and rum that bleeds from his skin. “I wish you were here.”

“In Seattle?”

“No. Right here.”

Aegon exhales shakily, swallows, takes a few seconds to collect himself. “How’s the water?”

“Extremely hot and full of bubbles.”

“So I wouldn’t be able to see you.”

“No,” you say, baiting him.

“But I could touch you.”

“You already have.”

“Not enough,” he murmurs. “Nowhere close to enough.”

“Do you remember what I felt like?”

“Oh God,” he whispers, and you envision him closing his eyes, rubbing his face with the open palm of his left hand. “Yeah. Of course I do. I can’t get it out of my head. But I’ve been trying not to…you know…it felt wrong to think about you that way unless you were cool with it. Like I was betraying your trust or taking advantage of you or something.”

“No, I want you to think about me.”

You can hear Aegon moving around on the green futon, repositioning himself, yanking down a zipper. When he speaks again, his breathing is quick and jagged. “Where’s your other hand, huh?”

“Under the water,” you reply coyly.

“You bitch,” he says, laughing. “I miss you so fucking much. The house isn’t right without you in it. You belong here, you belong where I am.”

Beneath the veil of bubbles and steam, there is no scar on your belly, no infidelity, no campaign, no distance of almost 3,000 miles separating you and Aegon. Your fingers slip between your legs, finding slickness the water can’t wash away. It’s a familiar sensation, though you haven’t felt it in a while: rising steadily until you hit a plateau like a jet reaching cruising altitude. From here, it will either glide along smoothly until it dies out, or eventually turn sharp and painful. “Tell me about you,” you pant.

He can hear it in your voice, a needful surrender that sets him on fire. He can’t believe this is happening; he never wants it to end. “I mean, I’m…I’m insanely hard.”

“Stroke yourself, imagine it’s me. I wish it could be me.”

“Oh fuck,” Aegon whimpers. “Okay, okay…I want you. I want you with my fingers, I want you with my tongue, I want you to beg for it, and then…”

Impossibly, incomparably, your own pleasure is climbing faster than you can reconcile yourself to it, no longer a hunger but a violent aching, a crushing gravity you can’t fight against, a ship being dragged to the floor of the ocean. What’s happening? When will it end? You moan into the phone, amazed yet petrified. You can’t get enough air; it feels like drowning, like dying.

“I need to see you,” Aegon says. He’s close to the climax that you know men experience, he has to be; he’s gasping. “I need to be with you, let me give you what you want.”

“I want you to finish inside me.”

“Io…babe…oh my God, you’re gonna kill me…”

There are sounds out in the front room of the suite: a lock clicking, footsteps, keys and a wallet tossed onto the kitchenette counter. You’re so consumed you almost don’t notice. Aemond is back. Aemond is back!! And every ion of your ascending euphoria evaporates. “Gotta go, bye.”

“Wait—!”

You hang up just as Aemond is opening the bedroom door. He walks in—immaculately tailored dark blue suit, polished black leather shoes trampling soft pink carpet—and turns to you. He has already taken his glass eye out and put on his eyepatch. Vaguely, fleetingly, you wonder where he’s been. His gaze darts to the red phone, your fingerprints in the condensation. “Who were you talking to?”

“My parents.”

If Aemond doubts this, he doesn’t show it. He crosses the room, sits on the edge of the bathtub, peers down at you with an omniscient metallic glint in his eye. He’s always been less a man than a force of nature. “I know this year has been hell.”

You envision Persephone being stolen by Hades, Orpheus searching for his dead wife Eurydice, Charon ferrying souls across the River Styx. “You haven’t made it easier.”

There’s a flash of something in his scarred face, blazing and instantaneous like lightning, and then it fades. He reaches out to touch your hair, swept up and neatly bound with clips and pins. “We can’t forget everything we’ve accomplished together,” Aemond says. “I still need you. You’re my Aphrodite.”

He’s going to tell you to get out of the tub, to lie down on the bed, to open yourself so he can fill you. You distract him, forestalling the inevitable. Each morning Prometheus dreads the return of the eagle that pecks out his liver; as every summer ends Demeter mourns the loss of Persephone. “Any luck with Nixon?”

Aemond sighs, furious, brooding. “He still won’t agree to a debate. Wallace is onboard, he’s rabid for it, he’d show up if we held it in the fucking asteroid belt, any opportunity to spew his idiocy. But not Nixon.”

“Because he knows standing on the same stage as you can only hurt him. People thought he looked bad in 1960, can you imagine now? Television has gotten so much clearer. They’ll be able to count his sweat drops from their living room couches.”

“So how do I get him to do it?”

You look up at Aemond. It’s not a hypothetical question; he’s really asking for advice.

“I have to debate Nixon,” Aemond insists. “It’s close in the polls, which means it will be even closer on Election Day. I’ll underperform whatever is projected, my coalition is less likely to show up when it counts. College kids, hippies, transients. That’s just a fact. But the old people vote. The suburban housewives vote. Nixon’s resting on his political experience and accusations that I’m a communist, an agent of chaos. But I could slaughter him in an hour on ABC.”

You think of the mutilated Vietnam veterans waving their signs and screaming at LBJ from the other side of the wrought-iron gates of the White House. “Challenge him in public. Say that the American people deserve to see the candidates debate, and do it where everyone can hear you.”

“What if Nixon still refuses?”

“Then you call him a coward. You say he must have something to hide. You ask how he’s supposed to square up with the Russians and the Chinese if he can’t even face you.”

Aemond grins admiringly. “You’re vicious.” And he lifts your hand from the rim of the tub so he can kiss your knuckles. Once you licked up drops of his approval like Tantalus, cursed with eternal thirst. Now it is poison that turns your veins black.

“If there’s a debate, everyone should go,” you say, seized by sudden inspiration. “We should have a united front, including Aegon. It can be his return to the public eye. A month will have passed since the funeral, the timing is right. He can pose for a few photos with the kids to show the nation that they’re doing well and distract from any lingering rumors about Mimi.”

Aemond isn’t grinning anymore. He’s studying you with his cold blue gaze; no, he’s trying to intimidate you, to overpower you. “Otto and I will decide what to do with him.”

“He’s a Targaryen. He should be with the rest of us.”

Aemond stands and motions for you to follow, a snap of his wrist like a man calling a dog. “It’s late. Let’s go to bed.”

Panic, tension, an iron sinking in your belly. The water is only lukewarm now, but you don’t want to leave it. “I’m not done yet.”

“Yes you are.”

There’s nothing else to say. Legally, a wife’s flesh is one with her husband’s. You slip as you step out of the bathtub, and Aemond grabs your forearm. Not like he’s helping you; like you’re something he owns.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two knocks, swift and forceful. “Hey, it’s me. You ready? Everyone else is downstairs in the lobby waiting for the limos.”

You hurry to open the door, almost twisting your ankle as you stumble in your heels. They’re an inch higher than what you’re used to. Aemond chose them, and your dress too, and your sapphire teardrop earrings, and the silver chains around your wrist and throat, and your future and your past, and your life itself. It’s mid-October, and the night of what will almost certainly be the sole presidential debate of 1968. Aemond’s retinue is staying at the Hotel Saint Louis. It’s harvest time, the fields beyond the city being reaped of their soybeans, wheat, corn, cotton, and rice, the beef cattle culled in mechanical underworlds. Aegon’s flight must have just landed.

As soon as he sees you his eyes drop, wide and bewitched, ensnared everywhere except your face. You say: “Can you help me zip this, please?”

He blinks a few times, then shakes it off. “Sorry, what?”

“The zipper’s stuck. I need you to get it.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He steps into the suite and stands behind you. The gown is a vivid blue like the Greek flag, gorgeous and shimmering but a size too small. It wasn’t tight a week ago, but now it is, and you aren’t pregnant just always gaining and losing weight in new places, first the baby and then the pill, and it wouldn’t bother you if Aemond didn’t seem so confounded by it. Aegon says as he tugs at the zipper: “I don’t think it’s gonna fit, babe.”

“It has to fit.”

“Even if I miraculously get this closed, you won’t be able to breathe.”

“Do whatever you have to. Just…just…” You push every last molecule of air out of your lungs, suck in your belly, and you hear the triumphant squeal of the zipper. “Yes!” Oh, but Aegon was right: you really can’t breathe. “Okay. Let’s go.”

“You’re not gonna last the whole debate in that. You’ll be sweating more than Nixon.”

“I’m fine.”

“Io…”

“I’m fine. Come on.” You snatch your matching purse off the coffee table by the couch, check your makeup one last time, and hobble in your heels as you walk with Aegon out into the hallway.

At the Kiel Auditorium a few blocks away, the Targaryen children—Aegon’s five and Helaena’s three—are presented for photographs before being escorted back to the hotel by the nannies. And even in the few weeks that have passed since you last saw Aegon’s kids, there have been extraordinary changes. They talk to their father, and he talks back, and he ruffles their hair and rests his hands on their shoulders and asks them about what they’re learning from their private tutors. Cosmo tackles you before he leaves—a powerful bear hug, though he can only reach your legs—and he says he hopes you’re coming home to Asteria soon.

“Me too, kiddo,” Aegon tells him, and then smiles at you; but above his gleam of teeth his cloudy blue eyes, like the Atlantic in a storm, are gloomy and troubled.

As the audience takes their seats and the journalists are poised to capture the best images and quotes of the night, the three candidates and their wives (minus Wallace’s dear departed Lurleen) meet briefly backstage to exchange the perfunctory well-wishes. Pat Nixon is introverted and bookish, though she tries to hide it; but Aemond reels her in like swordfish until her eyes are filled with him. George Wallace gets one glimpse of your venomous glare and escapes, claiming to need one last trip to the restroom before the debate begins. But Richard Nixon beckons you to accompany him to a quiet, discrete corner of the room.

“I tried to call,” he says. He’s a remarkably normal man: medium height, receding dark hair, rough voice, weathered skin, not a god but a mortal, and—you have the impression—more aware of his flaws than his fiercest critics will ever be. “But no one at that damned beach house would ever put me through to you.”

You aren’t sure what he means. “Oh?”

“I never got the opportunity to tell you how sorry I was for your loss in July, Mrs. Targaryen,” Nixon says with unglamorous, plain, genuine compassion. “Pat and I, when we heard, we wept for you. We truly did. And for your husband to be clear across the country…I can’t even imagine. It must have been awful for you. A parent never gets over something like that. It stays with you like a scar.”

“It does,” you say softly.

“I lost two brothers. Arthur died when he was seven, tuberculosis killed Harold in his twenties. God, it just about destroyed my mother. You’re a remarkable woman. You’re lightning in a bottle for Aemond, do you know that? You’re like one of those Kennedy gals, but even better. More personable than Jackie. More intelligent than Ethel…although, to be frank, who wouldn’t be? And you’re not afflicted with any ghastly vices like Ted’s wife Joan. What would Aemond do without you? He’d lose, that’s what he’d do.”

Nixon’s smart, but he’s wounded. He’s capable, but he’s so desperate to prove it. Power could ruin a man like this. “You’re very kind, sir. You did some great work under Eisenhower. Self-made like my father was, a devotee of the American Dream. I believe you have an important role to play in this country…” You smirk, a bit mischievously. “Just not as the president.”

Nixon chortles. “No matter what happens tonight, rest assured that I hate Reagan more than I could ever dislike your husband,” he says, meaning the Republican governor of his home state of California. “You know that bastard tried to primary me?”

“Actors don’t belong in politics.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Nixon says, and then bids you farewell as the lights turn blinding and the curtain begins to rise.

As soon as the adrenaline begins to fade, all you can think about is that you can’t breathe. You take your seat in the audience between Aegon and Ludwika, who won’t stop making jabs about Nixon: “He looks like a troll,” “He looks like a sasquatch,” “Do you think Pat makes him wear a Creature from the Black Lagoon mask in bed so she is not so repulsed by him?” The most you can offer is an occasional distracted nod in response.

“You alright?” Aegon whispers.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t look alright.”

“I’m great.”

“Sure,” he says, and he acts like he’s teasing, but there’s something tremendously sad underneath. He can’t save you from this. He can’t save you from anything. What must that feel like?

On the debate stage—broadcast to a national audience—Aemond performs brilliantly. Nixon salvages what could have been a bloodbath with a handful of clever retorts that Aemond pretends not to be rattled by. The real loser of the night is Wallace, who is brutally attacked by them both: Nixon because Wallace is commandeering some of his voting bloc, and Aemond because of his near-assassination back in May. After an hour, the contest concludes and the candidates descend to the main floor to pose for photos and get lassoed into brief interviews with various journalists. Everyone in Aemond’s entourage besides you and Aegon flock to his side. By now you’re gasping in shallow gulps, close to tears and in agony from your ribs to your wobbling feet.

“I told you,” Aegon says. And then: “Come on. We’ll take the first limo back.”

In the front room of your hotel suite—one yellowish end table lamp glowing dimly, the rest of the space like twilight—Aegon wrestles with the zipper as you struggle for every breath, trying not to pass out. “Ow,” you whine. “Oh fuck, this was so stupid…”

“Don’t let him make you wear shit you don’t want to wear.”

“I have to do what he says, Aegon.”

“He doesn’t own you.”

“Legally, he does.”

He’s tugging futilely at the jammed zipper. “Are you planning on using this again?”

“I believe that would be wistful thinking.”

“You probably look better out of it anyway.” He grabs his Zippo lighter from the pocket of his emerald green suit jacket and flicks it to life. “Don’t move, okay?”

“Okay.”

“At all.”

“Got it.”

You can feel heat, intense but not painful. Aegon has pulled the edge of the fabric as far away as he can from your skin and is singeing it until it turns black and charred and brittle. Then he tucks the lighter back into his pocket and with both hands rips your dress down to the small of your back. Cool air rushes to meet the ridge of your spine; goosebumps prickle all over. Aegon is marveling at you; you can see it when you glance over your shoulder at him. Then he lays a palm against your bare skin, leans into you, inhales everything you’ve ever been: smoke and sex and starlight, strategies, shadows, secrets.

The others will be pouring into the hallway from the elevator any minute. Aemond. Aemond could find us.

“We can’t,” you whisper, hating yourself for it.

Aegon kisses the nape of your neck—so slow, so kind—and then goes to the doorway. You wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t. He’s looking at you as you hold up the ruined gown so it covers your belly and your chest. You gaze back helplessly, wanting him, needing him, a moon chained to another world’s gravity.

We can’t, we can’t, we can’t.

“I’m so sorry,” you say.

And only then does Aegon vanish.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon x you #aegon x y/n

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johanirae · 21 hours

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Day 3 - Coaster Enthusiast Aemond and, tagging along on Alicent’s orders, his normie brother Aegon (thanks for the headcanon Ewan) at Tokyo Dome City’s Thunder Dolphin Rollercoaster

Inspired by a comment on twitter by vhagarkeep

#aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #roller coasters #house of the dragon #tokyo dome city #hotd fanart #fanart

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greenwitchcrafts · 3 months

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July 2024 witch guide

Full moon: July 21st

New moon: July 5th

Sabbats: None

July Buck Moon

Known as: Berry Moon, Blessing moon, Fallow Moon, Feather Moulting Moon, Halfway Summer Moon, Hay Moon, Hewimanoth, Maedmonat, Medow Moon, Moon of Blood, Moon of Calming, Moon When the Chokecherries are ripe, Month of the Ripe Corn, Raspberry Moon, Salmon Moon,Thunder Moon & Wort Moon

Element: Water

Zodiac: Cancer & Leo

Nature spirits: Harvest Faeries & Hobgoblins

Deities: Athena, Cerridwen, Hel, Holda, Juno, Khepera, Lugh, Nephthys, Neptune & Venus

Animals: Crab, dolphin, turtle & whale

Birds: Ibis, starling & swallow

Trees: Acacia, ash & oak

Herbs: Agrimony, hyssop, lemon balm & mugwort

Flowers: Honeysuckle, jasmine, lotus & water lily

Scents: Frankincense & Orris

Stones: Carnelian, malachite, moonstone, onyx, opal, pearl, ruby, sapphire, spinel, tourmaline, turquoise & white agate

Colors: Blue-grey, green, silver &yellow

Energy: Childbirth, divination, domesticity, divination, dreamwork, fertility, home matter, meditation on goals/plans, mothers, preparation, relaxation, stress & success

The full Moon in July is called the Buck Moon because the antlers of male deer (bucks) are in full-growth mode at this time. Bucks shed and regrow their antlers each year, producing a larger and more impressive set as the years go by.

• Several other names for this month’s Moon also reference animals & plants

Other Celebrations:

Neptunalia-July 23rd(approximately

The Neptunalia was an obscure archaic two-day festival in honor of Neptune as god of waters, celebrated at Rome in the heat and drought of summer. was one of the dies comitiales, when committees of citizens could vote on civil or criminal matters.

Neptune’s festival (Neptunalia) took place in the heat of the summer when water was scarcest; thus, its purpose was probably the propitiation of the freshwater deity. Neptune had a temple in the Circus Flaminius at Rome; one of its features was a sculptured group of marine deities headed by Poseidon.

Respecting the ceremonies of this festival nothing is known, except that the people used to build huts of branches & foliage(Umbrae), in which they probably feasted, drank, and amused themselves. Ancient calendars describe the days. Entertainment would have probably also included horse racing, with competitors racing round the track & circling ‘turning posts’ (metas) at either end of the Circus.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

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oakgreenoak · 1 year

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#h2g2 #hitchhikers guide to the galaxy #hg2g #douglas adams #tumblr polls #hhg is such a normal series which i think about a normal amount

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zoomzooml · 1 year

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Concept doodles I did specifically for redesign of The Nine Realms Night Lights but could actually work for Light Furies too (I mean colors)

They are very late, but Bubblehorn's existence was reminded to me and I found that I could try to do a redesign for it, but I got distracted and ended up with Night Lights lol

Kinda inspired by @/sparrowlucero's idea of Night Furies colors working like those of wolves so they aren't all black.

These Night Lights are just ideas and there probably would be possible different versions of each patterns but idk. Just ideas

And Thunder's design diss lmao

Now I think his tail fins should be bigger but I'm too lazy to come back to it now so let's agree it's bigger. Mostly longer.

Text from pic + some notes under the cut

For all we know Toothless was the last Night Fury, so it's theoretically impossible that after so many years his descendants would continue to have black coloration, especially that much of it (unless they are heavily inbreed what after looking at those models is possible-)

To distinguish our main dragon (because apparently the saddle is not enough???) from other representatives of the specie as well as dragons from the background, I thought it would be an interesting option to give the Light Furies (whose genes should now predominate, if not completely supplant those of the Night Fury) and Night Lights a naturally varied color scheme.

Since the popular interpretation is that Light Furies are a semi-aquatic variety of Furies I thought aquatic animals would be the best inspiration. There I have only dolphins but probably some other could be used too (like sharks??)

Thunder is, of course, inspired by the Killer Whale. Mainly because I didn't want to change his design very much.

Notes:

All tail fins are shaped more like those of Light Fury but are ragged like those of Night Fury. I didn't write it on the doodle but wings are more like NF (they are kinda bat-like and dragons were living uderground.)

The wings have a much larger connection to his flank, giving a surface area that gives him the actual ability to fly

The legs are somewhere between NL and LF. Bulkier than LF, slimmier than NF

I kept his big ears. They are funky

Plus I made his body longer and neck thicker

#httyd #how to train your dragon #dragons the nine realms #the nine realms #night light #httyd night lights #fan redesign #my art #not transformers #Sorry for bad english

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itsmoonpeaches · 8 months

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Title: Eye of the Hurricane

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial

[NOTE: I had to create this gif as no existing gif that I wanted of this scene previously existed in the gifs search. This gif belongs to me.]

Word count: 1,004

Rating: G

Summary: Poseidon cannot change fate, but he can be there for Percy when he is needed the most. In the only way a god can.

“Do you want to talk to him?” Sally asked, her voice tremulous as the storm Poseidon had conjured outside upon his arrival. “I know you shouldn’t but maybe just to hear his voice.”

It was easy for a god to covet things, to wish for wants, and demand them to appear. It was easy too for a god to change perceptions of reality, if only to bend the rules for a moment. Poseidon tasted that potential for a sliver of time when he glanced back at the patterned pane that separated him from the young boy. He could see glimpses of Percy through that inch of glass. A boy with eyes like the sea, with blond windswept hair, and a mustard yellow sweater.

Thunder shuddered the walls of the diner, rumbling in those few seconds that brought the truth back into focus and reminded Poseidon who he was…a god who could do nothing.

It was difficult for a god to be powerless.

Poseidon forced himself now to never glance in Sally Jackson’s direction—to never tempt himself with forming something permanent with the mortal he loved.

“One day,” he said so only she could hear. “One day, when he’s ready. When he knows who he is and where he belongs. And fate has revealed to him his true path. On that day…I’ll be right by his side.”

The scent of smoke and burning chocolate syrup mixed with sundae ascended from the tall glass cup that divided them. He could still feel the tingle of desperation in his ichor, the call of a human to his domain.

He allowed himself one look. One last look at her before he left. Her eyes were closed, the single tear that had escaped her eye finished its journey down her cheek, and he imagined what it would have been like if he could hold their son between them instead of holding their distance.

When he left, he knew the rain had continued its deluge upon that little town in Upstate New York. He permitted it to happen. What else could he offer?

That autumn day, he stood on the beach at Montauk. Alone because the humans who went there thought the waters too cold apart from the summer season. The ocean lapped at his feet, the breeze a welcome comfort.

Montauk was not his most awe-inspiring work. The waves were turbulent, the climate too unforgiving to warrant many seasonal visitors. Not like plenty of his other haunts where the sands were powder and the ocean a clear sapphire when much of the world froze. But Montauk was an aspect of him. Of rocks, surf, and pebbles hidden in shores. Of sharp sea glass, short cliffs, and gray waters.

Montauk was Sally. Montauk was Percy.

Poseidon stepped into the tides. He descended as easily as he always had. A current roared overhead, so strong that it could drag any careless swimmer under in a matter of seconds.

“Lord Poseidon?” chirped a hammerhead shark in his mind. “Lord Delphin wishes to meet with you about the upcoming dolphin migration from the Carolinas. The riptides might deter them from moving any faster.”

His eyes snapped to the shark. The creature stiffened with fear.

“Riptide,” Poseidon said. He looked above him once more at the same current that had pushed him below.

“Ye–yes,” stammered the shark. “That is indeed part of the problem.”

“Or it is part of the solution.”

The water bubbled and Poseidon disappeared. He called upon a force of old, a force he had not called upon for thousands of years since the time of Heracles. That familiar thing tugged at his core and in the palm of his hand, burning and thriving.

And so, when he reappeared, he was on the shore of Long Island Sound. Night engulfed him. Apollo completed his duty. There was silence on the beach.

He walked through the forest and past curious wood nymphs who melted out of trees. He felt their eyes. He felt their words. He let them pass.

Upon the hill, he saw the Big House, its glass shimmering with starlight. A shadow shifted on the porch.

“Chiron,” he remarked as he approached.

The centaur looked startled. Chiron unfolded himself from his resting position on the deck, a mortal book about architecture in his hand. “Lord Poseidon!” he exclaimed. “It is a surprise to see you here.”

Poseidon hummed. He lifted his hand, the object he had willed into existence thrummed on his skin. "I have a task for you."

“You have laid a shroud of Mist over it, I see," Chiron observed.

Poseidon nodded. “The world outside is dangerous. Humans do not understand our world. I do not expect them to.”

"It is a curious choice to disguise a weapon as a pen."

“A gift,” Poseidon corrected. “One day, there is sure to be someone who needs it more than I.

“The story of this blade is a tragic one, but it does not have to be. You must keep it in your possession. Do not let anyone who is not worthy take it. Do not let anyone know you have it.”

“How will I know who is to own it?” Chiron asked.

“You will know.”

Chiron studied him, and Poseidon felt like a demigod would if they were one of the centaur's pupils.

“The blade is called Anaklusmos," explained Poseidon. "Riptide.”

The name rolled off his tongue, and like a whirlpool forming in the deep, clashed against the currents that had prevented him from remembering it. A reminder that even the powerful were not invincible.

“The master of that blade will drown their enemies in the depths of the raging sea. It will protect them.” He glanced away. “I will protect them.”

Chrion took Anaklusmos from his hand.

Poseidon knew this desire of his was a fool’s quest for the impossible. But though a god could not change fate or ancient laws, he could try.

Poseidon was the sea. His son was born from defiance.

Also available on ao3.

#pjo #pjo tv show #pjo tv show spoilers #flash fiction friday #a fool's quest #fff237 #percy jackson #poseidon #sally jackson #posally #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #itsmoonpeaches fanfic #pjo fanfic

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cryptidclaw · 2 years

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Cryptidclaw's WC Prefixes List!

Yall said you were interested in seeing it so here it is!

This is a collection of mostly Flora, Fauna, Rocks, and other such things that can be found in Britain since that’s where the books take place!

I also have other Prefixes that have to do with pelt colors and patterns as well!

Here’s a link to the doc if you dont want to expand a 650 word list on your Tumblr feed lol! the doc is also in my drive linked in my pined post!

below is the actual list! If there are any names you think I should add plz tell me!

EDIT: I will update the doc with new names as I come up with them or have them suggested to me, but I wont update the list on this post! Plz visit my doc for a more updated version!

Animals

Mammal

Badger

Bat

Bear

Beaver

Bison

Boar

Buck

Calf

Cow

Deer

Elk

Fawn

Ferret

Fox

Goat

Hare

Horse

Lamb

Lynx

Marten

Mole

Mouse

Otter

Rabbit

Rat

Seal

Sheep

Shrew

Squirrel

Stoat

Vole

Weasel

Wolf

Wolverine

Amphibians

Frog

Newt

Toad

Reptiles

Scale

Adder

Lizard

Snake

Turtle

Shell

Birds

Bird

Down

Feather

Albatross

Bittern

Buzzard

Chaffinch

Chick

Chicken

Coot

Cormorant

Corvid

Crane

Crow

Curlew

Dove

Duck

Dunlin

Eagle

Egret

Falcon

Finch

Gannet

Goose

Grouse

Gull

Hawk

Hen

Heron

Ibis

Jackdaw

Jay

Kestrel

Kite

Lark

Magpie

Mallard

Merlin

Mockingbird

Murrelet

Nightingale

Osprey

Owl

Partridge

Pelican

Peregrine

Petrel

Pheasant

Pigeon

Plover

Puffin

Quail

Raven

Robin

Rook

Rooster

Ruff

Shrike

Snipe

Sparrow

Starling

Stork

Swallow

Swan

Swift

Tern

Thrasher

Thrush

Vulture

Warbler

Whimbrel

Wren

Freshwater Fish

Fish

Bass

Bream

Carp

Dace

Eel

Lamprey

Loach

Minnow

Perch

Pike

Rudd

Salmon

Sterlet

Tench

Trout

Roach

Saltwater fish and other Sea creatures (would cats be able to find some of these? Probably not, I don't care tho)

Alge

Barnacle

Bass (Saltwater version)

Bream (Saltwater version)

Brill

Clam

Cod

Crab

Dolphin

Eel (Saltwater version)

Flounder

Garfish

Halibut

Kelp

Lobster

Mackerel

Mollusk

Orca

Prawn

Ray

Seal

Shark

Shrimp

Starfish

Sting

Urchin

Whale

Insects and Arachnids

Honey

Insect

Web

Ant

Bee

Beetle

Bug

Butterfly

Caterpillar

Cricket

Damselfly

Dragonfly

Fly

Grasshopper

Grub

Hornet

Maggot

Moth

Spider

Wasp

Worm

Trees

Acorn

Bark

Branch

Forest

Hollow

Log

Root

Stump

Timber

Tree

Twig

Wood

Alder

Apple

Ash

Aspen

Beech

Birch

Cedar

Cherry

Chestnut

Cypress

Elm

Fir

Hawthorn

Hazel

Hemlock

Linden

Maple

Oak

Pear

Poplar

Rowan

Redwood

Spruce

Willow

Yew

Flowers, Shrubs and Other plants

Berry

Blossom

Briar

Field

Flower

Leaf

Meadow

Needle

Petal

Shrub

Stem

Thicket

Thorn

Vine

Anemone

Apricot

Barley

Bellflower

Bluebell

Borage

Bracken

Bramble

Briar

Burnet

Buttercup

Campion

Chamomile

Chanterelle

Chicory

Clover

Cornflower

Daffodil

Daisy

Dandelion

Dogwood

Fallow

Fennel

Fern

Flax

Foxglove

Furze

Garlic

Ginger

Gorse

Grass

Hay

Heather

Holly

Honeysuckle

Hop

Hyacinth

Iris

Ivy

Juniper

Lavender

Lichen

Lilac

Lilly

Mallow

Marigold

Mint

Mistletoe

Moss

Mushroom

Nettle

Nightshade

Oat

Olive

Orchid

Parsley

Periwinkle

Pine

Poppy

Primrose

Privet

Raspberry

Reed

Reedmace

Rose

Rush

Rye

Saffron

Sage

Sedge

Seed

Snowdrop

Spindle

Strawberry

Tangerine

Tansy

Teasel

Thistle

Thrift

Thyme

Violet

Weed

Wheat

Woodruff

Yarrow

Rocks and earth

Agate

Amber

Amethyst

Arch

Basalt

Bounder

Cave

Chalk

Coal

Copper

Dirt

Dust

Flint

Garnet

Gold

Granite

Hill

Iron

Jagged

Jet

Mountain

Mud

Peak

Pebble

Pinnacle

Pit

Quartz

Ridge

Rock

Rubble

Ruby

Rust(y)

Sand

Sapphire

Sediment

Silt

Silver

Slate

Soil

Spire

Stone

Trench

Zircon

Water Formations

Bay

Cove

Creek

Delta

Lake

Marsh

Ocean

Pool

Puddle

River

Sea

Water

Weather and such

Autumn

Avalanche

Balmy

Blaze

Blizzard

Breeze

Burnt

Chill

Cinder

Cloud

Cold

Dew

Drift

Drizzle

Drought

Dry

Ember

Fall

Fire

Flame

Flood

Fog

Freeze

Frost

Frozen

Gale

Gust

Hail

Ice

Icicle

Lightening

Mist

Muggy

Rain

Scorch

Singe

Sky

Sleet

Sloe

Smoke

Snow

Snowflake

Soot

Sorrel

Spark

Spring

Steam

Storm

Summer

Sun

Thunder

Water

Wave

Wet

Wind

Winter

Celestial??

Comet

Dawn

Dusk

Evening

Midnight

Moon

Morning

Night

Noon

Twilight

Cat Features, Traits, and Misc.

Azure

Beige

Big

Black

Blonde

Blotch(ed)

Blue

Bounce

Bright

Brindle

Broken

Bronze

Brown

Bumble

Burgundy

Call

Carmine

Claw

Cobalt

Cream

Crimson

Cry

Curl(y)

Dapple

Dark

Dot(ted)

Dusky

Ebony

Echo

Fallen

Fleck(ed)

Fluffy

Freckle

Ginger

Golden

Gray

Green

Heavy

Kink

Knot(ted)

Light

Little

Lost

Loud

Marbled

Mew

Milk

Mottle

Mumble

Ochre

Odd

One

Orange

Pale

Patch(ed)

Pounce

Prickle

Ragged

Red

Ripple

Rough

Rugged

Russet

Scarlet

Shade

Shaggy

Sharp

Shimmer

Shining

Small

Smudge

Soft

Song

Speckle

Spike

Splash

Spot(ted)

Streak

Stripe(d)

Strong

Stump(y)

Sweet

Tall

Talon

Tangle

Tatter(ed)

Tawny

Tiny

Tough

Tumble

Twist

Violet

Whisker

Whisper

White

Wild

Wooly

Yellow

#cryptidclaw's warriors au #?#Im tempted to use these in the au #some characters deserve some more fun names hehe #rise of change #warrior cats #warrior cats design #warriors #warriors names #warriors naming #warriors prefixes

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accessibleaesthetics · 2 years

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This poll is screen reader users, including part-time screen reader users and screen reader users who are not blind or low vision. If you are not part of this group, please feel free to reblog to increase sample size!

For the purpose of this poll, "screen reader" refers to any program that verbally reads out all content on the screen (text, alt text, button names, menu options, etc.), as opposed to programs that are strictly text-to-speech (those will be covered in a separate poll).

If you have never used a screen reader but still would like to know the results, please feel free to message me. I'll add you to a list of people to tag once the poll is done. That way, you don't have to worry about finding it again yourself!

#polls #accessibility #screen reader

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lgcmanager · 1 month

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SIDE EVENT 021 ( CHUSEOK & LGC FAMILY CONCERT 2K24 )

a reminder on side-events; they are non-mandatory occasional events that your muse can choose to participate in or not.

while missing an event might mean missing out on points, be aware that choosing to take part in it could have positive or negative consequences for your muse. there is also no telling which part of the event will have consequences either since they will be tailored to make it difficult to guess what could impact your muse. while the final consequences are decided at the same time as the event is created, we will only reveal them the sunday after the deadline if there are any. so choose wisely: are you willing to make a gamble with your muse?

( important note: EVERY MUSE in the company will take part in the event canon wise, whether or not a mun writes for it. )

sometime around EARLY AUGUST, all of the parties involved ( IDOLS, ACTORS, MODELS, and TRAINEES ) gather together to their assigned locations by their managers and coaches as they begin to disclose all of the details pertaining to LGC FAMILY CONCERT 2K24.

GENERAL DETAILS

this year the concert will be held on SEPTEMBER 27 and 28 at the SEOUL OLYMPIC STADIUM. the emcees will be BLAZING’s MAY ( PARK HAEMI ), DBSD’s SIWOO, and HARU’S MINWOO.

CHUSEOK ( DEBUTED ARTISTS )

for all of the DEBUTED ARTISTS ( including BLAZING5, DBSD, NKND, and HARU ) on SEPTEMBER 14 they will be invited to a grand dinner party to celebrate CHUSEOK. it is mandatory for all of them to attend and during this time, the managers will be present so it is expected to be on their best behavior ( and a great chance to catch up with some of the artists they may have not seen in a while ).

CHUSEOK ( EVERYONE )

as a future reminder, everyone will be celebrating chuseok from SEPTEMBER 16-18 so they will be given a short break to spend time with their loved ones and relax ( exception will be KIM JINSEO, who will be attending MILAN FASHION WEEK on SEPTEMBER 17 ). everyone will be returning back to the company and training on THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 19.

TRAINEES ( STAGES )

as briefly mentioned in TRAINEE MISSION 018, all of the trainees would have started vlogging their day in the life as a trainee videos and in the next few weeks, those videos would be edited and compiled to create multiple videos that will be shown on LGC’s youtube channel and throughout LGC FAMILY CONCERT 2K24 as a chance for new and old fans to get to know the trainees even more!

on AUGUST 18, the trainees will be told that they will learn and/or practice the following songs:

AWKWARD SILENCE – FUTURE DREAMS S2 ( SENIOR MALE TRAINEES; FROM NOSTALGIA S2 )

DOLPHIN – OH MY GIRL ( SENIOR FEMALE TRAINEES; FROM NOSTALGIA S2 )

SIESTA – CRYSTALLIS ( SENIOR FEMALE TRAINEES WITH CRYSTALLIS )

BE MINE – HARU ( SENIOR MALE TRAINEES )

PRETTY U – SEVENTEEN ( JUNIOR MALE TRAINEES; FROM NOSTALGIA S2 )

HOW YOU LIKE THAT – FABULA ( JUNIOR FEMALE TRAINEES )

THUNDEROUS – TYPE ZERO ( JUNIOR MALE TRAINEES WITH TYPE ZERO )

POWER UP – RED VELVET ( JUNIOR FEMALE TRAINEES; FROM NOSTALGIA S2 )

I GOT A BOY & SO HOT REMIX – BLAZING ( EVERYONE IN DAY 1 / ENCORE STAGE )

SHINE & AJU NICE REMIX – DBSD ( EVERYONE IN DAY 2 / ENCORE STAGE )

( important note: for the NOSTALGIA S2 songs, ic wise those were selected as some of the most viewed performances from the season [ aside from week 7/agito week ]. )

ooc wise, since some of the trainees can come and go, there will be no lyrics distributions for this. do note that regardless of skill set, all of them will be required to dance to the song assigned to them ( and ic wise, the coaches would have assigned the parts after asking all of them [ minus the encore ones ] to audition by singing a snippet of each of the songs ).

CO-ED SUBUNIT DETAILS

as mentioned in the V&A MISSION and CRYSTALLIS MISSION, ic wise the idols chosen were notified beforehand about the song and who they will be working with. but ooc, the idols selected for the unit were CRYSTALLIS’ ASTRID & YOUNGWON, HARU’S HANKYUNG & JOSHUA, and V&A’S JEON HARU & SEN. they will be performing and releasing ‘LIES ALL LOVE’ on the day of the concert ( SEPTEMBER 27 ). line distributions can be found HERE.

SPECIAL STAGE ( NOVA )

on day 2, NOVA will be performing their own version of NKND's "girls, love boys, love girls", which will be called "GIRLS LOVE BOYS"! you can find the line distributions for this over HERE.

INTERVIEW & GAME PANELS

for both days, all of the ACTORS and MODELS will be a part of the panels where fans and attendees can ask questions from their favorite celebrities! based on everyone in LGC AGENCY’s notoriety, they will be grouped as follows:

SOLO ( DAY 1 )

HAN JISOO

KIM JINYOUNG

LIM SANGHYUN

GROUP ( DAY 1 )

AHN YEIN, CHO MINKYU, HAN HYUNHEE, JO EUNWOO, KIM CHERRY, MOON JIAH, PARK SUJIN, ZHENG LEO

SOLO ( DAY 2 )

BAEK SEONA

KIM JINSEO

SHIN JIEUN

YANG AERI

GROUP ( DAY 2 )

BAE SOJIN, HAN ROWON, HAN SEUNGHYUN, LEE HYUNSOO, MOON JINO, NAM GYURI, YOO HAEMIN

( important note: people who had at least 500 NOTORIETY OR MORE since the beginning of AUGUST were given a solo interview panel and anyone with LESS THAN 500 NOTORIETY would be placed in the group panel. )

for the SOLO panels, each actor/model will be asked a series of questions ( within a 1 hour minute time frame ) by the fans regarding their recent gigs throughout 2024 ( eg. “any memorable instances filming a cf/drama/movie”, “what can we expect in the latter half of 2024” ) and about themselves ( hobbies, interests, etc. ) by the end of the panel, the actor/model will be given a chance to randomly pick 3 lucky winners and they will be given a chance to have their photo taken and signed by the artist!

as for the GROUP panels, it will be similar to the SOLO interviews but with a gaming component included. the GROUP will first see a big bingo board, where each square is either a general question asked by one of the fans ( eg. “show us your best aegyo”, “what is your favorite gig you’ve done in the past year?” ) OR a mini-game ( eg. “play rock, paper, scissors against the host. whoever loses gets hit with the toy hammer. if they do not win 3 individual rounds of the game, they cannot get the square”, “reenact a famous scene and if one of the fans can guess correctly what movie/drama it came from, you can claim the spot” ). for the mini-games, in order for the GROUP to claim that spot, they will need to win the game. if they lose the game, the spot will not be available. if the group gets a “BINGO” by the end of the panel, they will get a chance to give 3 lucky fans a small gift set signed by the actors/models from that group.

because there are multiple interview panels, some of them will be going on at the same time and any DEBUTED ARTISTS who aren’t a part of a panel during that time or have any bit of free time CANNOT visit other people’s panels.

V&A ANNIVERSARY FAN EVENT

per request by various ETERVAL communities, LEGACY has added a mini fan event for V&A to attend to. while their anniversary is on SEPTEMBER 27 ( same day that they will be performing ), the event will be on SEPTEMBER 28 before the concert. during the first portion of the event, there will be a V&A trivia game between 7 lucky super ETERVALs ( one for each round/member ) and the 7 V&A members. the questions will be quite group specific, testing both teams’ ability to recall as much information as they know about V&A ( eg. “what month, day, and year was [insert song] released?”, “when was the fandom name revealed?”, “what is the title of the third song in [insert album]?” etc ). then in the latter half, the ETERVALs will be split into smaller groups and have a hi-touch moment with their favorite member. each member should have an equal number of fans lined up for them.

near the end of the event, the V&A managers will take several group photos with V&A and all of the ETERVALs who attended and it will be posted on their social media as a way to thank them for attending the event.

OFFICIAL GROUP NAME REVEAL ( NKND )

on SEPTEMBER 28, it will be revealed publicly that the trainees in the “new kids new dreams” project will be officially be called MZSD ( and for the observant people, the group name has been hinted since 2022 as mentioned in this article )!

LGC FAM CON 2K24 SET LIST

for all of the other information regarding family con 2k24 ( collab stages & set list ), please click over HERE!

WRITING REQUIREMENTS

CHUSEOK: write a 250+ word solo/headcanon post or a 4 replies (minimum 8 lines; 2 posts per mun) thread with someone else about the time spent during chuseok for +5 POINTS TO DISTRIBUTE ANYWHERE !

LGC FAMCON 2K24: write a 300+ word solo or a 4 replies (minimum 8 lines; 2 posts per mun) thread with someone who is participating on the same day as your muse about anything related to the family concert 2k24 for +5 POINTS TO DISTRIBUTE ANYWHERE and +8 NOTORIETY !

you have until OCTOBER 5, 2024 11:59 EDT to meet requirements and claim your points. threads can be continued beyond the deadlines but points won’t be collected after that. the official tag for this event is lgc:familycon2k24.

in order to validate your skill points and collect your notoriety points, please submit the following form on the points blog before OCTOBER 5, 2024 11:59 EDT:

MUSE NAME ∙ LGC FAMILY CONCERT 2K24 - CHUSEOK: +5 ( skill points distribution ) [ LINK ] - LGC FAMCON 2K24: +5 ( skill points distribution ) + 8 notoriety [ LINK ]

#lgc:event #lgc:q32024 #lgc:familycon2k24

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epicthemusical · 3 months

Text

Haunted Thunder pt 1

WARNING THUNDER SAGA SPOILERS CANNON BLOOD AND DEATH

Time didn't work as it used to and Polites was left to float around aimlessly in the bleak underworld.He faintly remembers seeing Odysseus but already it was fading from his mind, how long has he been here? Minutes? Months? Years? He has no idea.

He is jolted out of his endless wandering and finds himself on a boat with…Odysseus?! Polites shakes himself out of his shock before rushing to hug his friend only to find himself unable to touch him only passing through him. He tries again to grab Odysseus’s arm and again he passes through his friend.

“Odysseus!” Nobody hears him though and as Polites sinks to the deck he hears singing coming from the ocean. Odysseus starts responding to a voice..wait it can't be possible. Penelope has no way of being out at sea like this so what? The answer hits him hard ...no please don't be sirens!

All Polites can focus on is stopping Odysseus from answering the siren's call. Any attempt is ignored until Odysseus raises his bow and…shoots at the siren? Polites breathes a sigh of relief as Odysseus reveals he had known all along about the sirens. The sirens had been caught and Polites couldn't help but smile.

His friend always has a plan and this time was no exception. The sirens call for mercy and Polites waits for Odysseus to convince the sirens to leave and not bother them only to freeze at the order shouted to the wind.

“Cut off their tails and throw them back in the water. Let them all drown.” Polites just stands there in shock before flinching as the crew obeys the order. Blood and screams fill the air. He slumps to the deck and sees Odysseus, cold and uncaring as he watches the sirens be thrown back into the sea before sailing on leaving behind a sea of blood and bodies.Polites feels sick to his stomach.

-------------------------

Everything fades away revealing another scene. They seem to be sailing through a dark cave and a haunting tune fills the air leaving the entire crew on edge.Odysseus orders for 6 torches to be lit and passed out to crewmembers.

Polites tenses as six monstrous heads centering around a terrifying body emerge from the inky depths of the cave. He rushes towards someone holding a torch unaware of the monster behind him wishing desperately to save them. It was a meaningless effort as he passed through them only able to watch as blood splatters the deck and soon Polites screams mix in with the screams of the crew being picked off and eaten.

One of the feathers from Julien’s ankle wings, a broken claw necklace from Nox, a scrap of Charis’s scarf.

Everything is soaked in blood as Polites sobs and screams at all the death. He knows the names of everyone that was eaten.

Julien who always put up an unbothered and mischievous front to hide his fear of hurting people he cared about.

Nox who often used his silent footsteps and cat eyes to scare the crew.

Charis who loves to sew as a way to be close to his dead mom.

Lykos who only wanted to explore the world outside of the forest they grew up in.

Almi the quarter water nymph who gifts any scales he sheds to people he trusts and loved swimming with dolphins.

Therme who welcomes hugs and cuddles using his above average temperature to keep everyone warm with a smile.

Huedo with his calming aura letting crew members sleep in his room to keep nightmares away. They are all dead now, life ended brutally and abruptly. Polites throws up as he sobs and grieves.

----------------

Polites is pulled out of his grief by Eurylochus’s voice.

“Please tell me you didn't know that would happen. Look me in the eyes Captain and tell me you didn't just sacrifice 6 men!” Polites stared at Eurylochus in shock. How could he ever think that about Odysseus he would NEVER. But the silence drags on

“SAY SOMETHING!” Eurylochus was breathing hard and Odysseus sharply turns to face him

“I CANT.” Polites stares at Odysseus in disbelief. Now that he thinks about it Odysseus had not reacted at all to the men being eaten almost like….like he had expected it…

Polites covers his mouth as his eyes tear up, feeling sick again. Odysseus didn't actually sacrifice 6 of the crew right? He watches Eurylochus face harden

“then you leave me no choice.” Eurylochus draws out the giant sword from his back and faces Odysseus.

“Please brother don't make me fight you!” Odysseus is panicking but as Eurylochus charges he pulls out his own sword to block with gritted teeth. Polites feels himself start shaking as he watches the fight.

What could have happened after he had died?! How could this happen?! Eurylochus is knocked down and Odysseus raises his sword for the final strike

“I won't let you get in my way!” Before he can deal the final blow he starts coughing up blood and he turns and sees that another crew member had stabbed him in the back with tearful eyes. Odysseus’s eyes fill with pain both emotional and physical

“My brothers…why..” He falls forward landing on the deck with a thud. Polites cries out and stumbles over to his fallen friend. Once again his hands phase through Odysseus and he sobs, unable to do anything to help.

Polites watches them patch up Odysseus before tying him to the mast. Polites stares blankly into the distance wondering how everything could have gone so wrong.

Part 2 here

#epic the musical #polites #epic fic #odysseus #odysseus epic the musical #polites epic the musical #angst #heavy angst #eurylochus epic the musical #epic the thunder saga #death and blood #cw death #cw blood #ghost!polites

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skaikruswan · 2 years

Text

The words in your heart and on your tongue

WC: 1,4 k

Relationship: Morpheus x reader

For the person who requested this prompt: Hi when you take request Can I request reader x dream. Where the reader loves dream & hide 🙈 felling because they fear that dream will say no. Thanks

There you go :)

Notes: reader in love, soft Morpheus, happy ending.

If you liked this story, i have written others.

Having a crush on someone can either make your heart soar or drown it in agony. You somehow managed to lose your heart to a person who will never return your feelings.

You let out a sigh as you fall on your bed, clutching a pillow for comfort. You still remember how you met Morpheus.

You rarely remembered your dreams, only fleeting images at best. Your sleep had always been uneventful, which is why this nightmare hit you so hard.

You had woken up in a blur, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, your heart racing as your body was ready to run, to flee. In the nightmare, you hadn’t seen the creature hunting you, if it was beast or man, you only heard its unhuman growls and you caught glimpses of the glowing red eyes.

“This was terrifying,” you thought to yourself, trying to shake off the terror, and hoping that this would be the last of your subconsciousness delving into horror. It wasn’t.

The nightmare kept going on. You could never convince yourself to stand down and find out what exactly was chasing you; your imagination was cruel like that. Your urge to survive, to outrun this monster was strong, and you and your pride didn’t want to lose. You managed to change your surroundings, to run through a lush forest, to hide in a crowded city, to even fly through the sky, but you never managed to shake off your monster.

It continued for days, and sleep started to become your enemy. You became exhausted and moody, trying to fight off sleep as long as you could, basically turning your blood into caffeine. In the end, it didn’t matter, and the nightmare always found you.

You had had enough. Exhaustion had worn you down, and tonight you would simply face your demon. If it killed you, then at least you would wake up and be hopefully done with the nightmare.

You turned off the lights, shuffled to your bed and closed your eyes. The nightmare came quick.

You stood still, waiting for the demon to reach you, dread coiling inside your stomach as the red eyes came closer, as the growls turned into a vicious, thundering laugh. The creature approached, and you still couldn’t discern what it was. You just saw a massive dark shape, and the suspense was killing you.

“Stop,” a deep, male voice demanded, and your heart skipped a beat. A man dressed in dark clothes had appeared, giving the monster a withering glare, equal rage and disappointment. His pale skin was almost glowing, his hair as dark as the night, and his blue eyes as eternal and cool as glaciers.

“My lord, I was simply performing my duty,” the monster spoke, its voice shaking you to the core, twisted and snarling, making a shiver run down your spine.

“You are tormenting this mortal. You know the consequence.” The unknown man suddenly became more frightening than the monster as you heard the latter howl before disappearing in an instant. Who was he?

“At ease, dreamer,” the man said to you, his voice suddenly as inviting and soothing as a blanket of velvet. You felt the tension leave your body, your shoulders sinking as you let out a long sigh.

“I will guarantee you that you shall only have nice dreams for a while,” the man continued, and crossed the distance between you and him. He brought his thumb to the middle of your forehead, the touch featherlight, and you felt this world change. “This nightmare is over.”

----------------------------------------------

True to his word, you had surprisingly nice dreams. You swam with dolphins and mermaids, you met your favorite celebrity, you ruled over your kingdom as a benevolent monarch, and you even met people you had lost and longed to meet again.

While the dreams were nice, they couldn’t compare to the mysterious stranger. Your curiosity was relentless, and you wanted to meet him again. For a moment, you even wondered if one could force themselves to have nightmares, but then you reprimanded yourself. You weren’t that curious or desperate.

In the end, he returned to one of your dreams. You were sitting cross-legged in a meadow, cuddling a baby wolf, giggling as its rough tongue slid over your cheek.

“I am glad that you’re having nice dreams,” a familiar voice said, and you looked up from your very excited wolf pup to see the mysterious stranger look down at you, his eyes holding a glimpse of amusement.

“I am. Thank you very much,” you replied, gently shooing the pup from your lap so you could stand up.

“I still don’t know your name,” you continued, fighting the urge to nervously bite your lip. You just knew that he was more than just a part of your dreams.

“I am Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, king of dreams and ruler of the nightmare realm,” he explained, and your first reaction was to bow and incline your head. Was this smooth or just awkward? You felt a flush heating up your cheeks and the back of your neck.

This certainly explained why he got rid of the nightmare so easily and why could promise you nice dreams. You somehow managed to get the dream lord himself to rescue you as if you were a damsel in distress.

“Nice to meet you,” you say, extending your hand, before realizing that this may not be appropriate. You felt yourself freeze, only to defrost immediately when you felt his long fingers wrap around yours.

“Can I see you again?” Go big or go home, you decided.

“An odd request. I cannot make any promises, but I will try.”

------------------------------------------------

Morpheus did more than try, and thanks to him, your dreams have become tangible, a refuge and a place you long to return to.

You take a sip from your cup, sitting in front of your tv. This is only half the truth. Morpheus has made your dreams better. Every time you close your eyes, you hope to see him again in your dreams.

You’re a fool with a lost heart.

Every time you see him, your heart seems to swell, but every time you manage to channel the courage to finally tell him about your feelings, the words don’t come.

You like to believe that you’ve grown close. Morpheus has shown you his palace, has introduced you to Matthew and Lucienne. You have spent many dreams in the library, discussing books and stories, or letting Morpheus’ marvelous voice enchant you. And yet...

You’re a scared fool with a lost heart.

-----------------------------------------------

You’re waiting on a warm beach, the salty breeze tugging at your hair, your toes digging into the soft sand. You somehow know that he will come. Your heart can feel it.

“Are you afraid?” Morpheus asks, and you turn around to face him. You wish you could say that you’ve become used to his otherworldly beauty, but it still takes your breath away sometimes.

“Why are you asking?” You try to give him an innocent look, while screaming internally. What if he knows? Morpheus is kind of omniscient when it comes to dreamers, right?

“Your heart is racing.” Morpheus slowly takes one step towards, then another, until he stands right beside you. He gently places his hand on your shoulder, his fingers resting on the pulse point of your neck, and you feel hot and cold at the same time. Your heart had been racing when you met him, but these were very different circumstances.

“I…” Your mind is blank. You wish you could tell a joke, or change the subject, or finally tell him your feelings, but you just stand there, your mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Say it.” His voice is deliciously soft, and you feel yourself drowning in his endless blue eyes. Your skin tingles with electricity.

“You make my heart race.” It is done. For a brief moment, you feel overwhelming relief, before your eyes widen in realization that you actually confessed your feelings. Oh no.

Morpheus gives you a smirk, and then takes your hand, placing it on his chest. You feel the steady drum of his immortal heart.

“I feared that I would never hear you confess,” Morpheus says, almost teasing you, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine.

With unexpected bravery, you stand on your tiptoes and press your lips to his, the kiss as gentle and warm as the sunset. Morpheus chuckles as he moves his lips with yours, cradling your jaw, and you feel your heart sing with glee.

Who knew that a nightmare could result in such a fairytale?

#the sandman #the sandman x reader #morpheus x reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #my writing #my sandman fics #please be in the tags

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mara-tevith-solo · 2 years

Text

Sing a Little Song For Me

Part 1 of at least a few drabble-esque fics? They aren’t really in any particular order as their from a larger fic I’ve been writing that I’m afraid my brain won’t let me finish, so I’m sharing as much of it as feels completed. Photo also not mine, obviously.

Warnings: Talk of death, Canon levels of Violence, Canon levels of hunting, Quaritch is his own warning let’s be fair, beginnings of a relationship, enemies to lovers, they’re kinda idiots

Pairing: Colonel Miles Quaritch x named Na’vi/Avatar reader/OC depending on how you want to see her. I never truly describe her.

Rated 18+ so if you don’t meet that, kindly gtfo, I don’t write kid appropriate material.

Words: 2.1k+

I'd forgotten how freeing flying on a Toruk was. The wind whipping through my hair as we sliced through the air. It felt like freedom, true freedom. I whooped loudly, clicking my tongue a few times afterwards as we passed over the ship, waiting as the Recoms and their Ikran joined us in the air. Zdinarsk was the first to join, followed closely by Quaritch and then Wainfleet, Mansk, Ja, and Prager. Spider cheered happily from his place in front of me, pumping his fist in the air like a victorious warrior coming home. Our next classroom island was in the middle of seven spire islands that made it inaccessible by the ship, and the water was too shallow between the spires for the boats, so by air was the only way to get in.

Our island getaway was bigger than the last, but was not a very desirable location for a village because it could only support a small fruit grove and not anything near enough for a group larger than ours. Even our group was going to push it if we stayed longer than a couple days. As soon as we landed I unpacked the tent poles from Thor and began to set up our shelter, a storm brewing on the horizon that didn't look entirely inviting. Quaritch and Wainfleet immediately stepped in to help, the two easily the tallest of the group, easily getting the canvas over the center pole as the rest of us worked on securing the edges to the bases of trees so that the canvas wouldn't have a chance to fly away if it got windy. Once the main part of the shelter was done, we all unpacked the interior bits like the sleeping mats and the cooking implements before letting the Toruk and the Ikran leave for the spires to weather out the storm. "Well this puts a dampener on the evening." Wainfleet yelled over a crack of thunder.

I picked up my spear from where I'd left it in the sand, breathing in the charged air with a soft smile "Don't have too much fun while I'm gone!"

"Are you out of your damn mind?" Prager yelled after me as thunder cracked across the sky again "You'll drown!"

"I'm from Hawaii! This is just another Tuesday!" I laughed back as I entered the water, instantly calling for an Ilu the moment my head was under. It clicked and danced around me in greeting, smiling in that uncanny but adorable way that they did before it offered a kuru. We hunted until the sun set and the storm passed, only an hour in reality, a string of fish slung over my shoulder as I brushed wet hair out of my face "Sorry that took so long, the fish went deep." I apologized with a bashful smile as I replanted the spear in the sand near the tent "They're already cleaned, and ready to cook."

"Hell ya." Wainfleet cheered while taking the string from me, taking it back to the cook fire in the middle of the tent.

"What was that you rode? Looked like a dinosaur." Zdinarsk asked, motioning vaguely towards the water from her seat in the doorway.

"That," I smiled as I began wringing out my hair in sections, twisting each one tightly before letting it go and moving on "is an Ilu. They are amazingly friendly creatures. A lot like dolphins, but much, much less homicidal." I stopped to think on her comment for a moment, smiling absently when I realized she was right "Huh, I guess they really do look like plesiosaurs. Good eye."

She smiled with pride as Prager clapped her on the back before going to help Wainfleet with the fish as a curse sounded from inside the shelter. "Where'd you get a fur pelt? I thought there wasn't a creature alive on this moon that bore fur." Ja asked suddenly, leaning against the center pole on the opposite side of the fire.

I twisted all of my hair together as I looked to him, ignoring my reflection in his glasses as I worked "It was a gift, just before the battle of the Tree of Souls. There's only one animal I know of that has fur, and they're very highly prized by the Plains Clans." I began making my way inside when my hair was sufficiently wrung out, though it was still a little wet. I didn't want to talk about those days, knowing that they were a sore subject for most involved.

"Got an admirer back home?" Wainfleet teased lightheartedly, like he was ignoring the elephant in the room and encouraging all of us to do that same. I didn't miss Quaritch scowling out the door as soon as the question left Wainfleet's mouth.

I laughed, taking the bait and happily running with it "Nah, no one waiting on little ole me." Quaritch's attention snapped back towards me, though he quickly looked away as soon as our eyes met "It was a courting gift from a Chief of a Plains Clan. He wanted the chance to get to know me after the battle." I shrugged with a smile, sitting on the pelt that made up my bedroll.

"So he was trying to buy your affections?" Zdinarsk asked, shifting in her seat to face the interior of the tent.

"No," I shook my head "A courting gift is meant to show interest and respect. At no point during courting are the two parties obligated to the other. Either one of them can break the courtship at any time, for any reason, with no ill will." I stretched in my seat, not paying any of the others any mind "After dinner we'll do a night exercise, just a little light exploration of our safe haven, nothing big."

"Isn't it dangerous to swim at night?" Prager asked, looking around everyone nervously.

I smiled softly, trying to reassure him, all of them. "On Earth, yes. Here, the planet does not sleep. Daylight hides the true beauty." The moon was higher in the sky after the fish were done cooking and everyone had eaten their fill, Spider going to sleep instead of exploring with us "Come." I encouraged, shifting to Na'vi with a warm smile, up to my knees in the water already. They all followed with much less hesitation, trusting me completely. As soon as we were all submerged, their eyes were wide at the wonder of the bioluminescent world around them, turning this way and that to take in as much as they possibly could.

I motioned for them to fan out and explore, they were all adults, they all knew how to mind their air. I made my way to the barrier reef, wanting to explore it more thoroughly. Right as I reached it, a hand closed around the tip of my tail, tugging at it gently, just letting me know that someone was there. I turned over, smiling widely at Quaritch as he continued following me, his own expression relaxed as we swam. At the barrier reef I motioned for him to follow me up to the surface for air, the man staying a respectful distance away as we both breathed in the crisp air before diving back down. I was inspecting the bottom of the reef, having seen a gap that we could have potentially fit through on Ilu, measuring it with my height until Quaritch was tapping me on the arm and pointing towards an opening in the reef. Curiosity no doubt got the better of us both in that moment, neither of us really thinking about it before going inside. It was large enough for Quaritch to swim comfortably, and stayed that way the entire way through until it suddenly moved upwards and opened into a small cavern. We were in sync as we breeched the surface of the water, breathing in the damp, murky air of the cavern. The walls and ceiling were covered by twinkling grubs and fungus, all emitting blue or green light into the darkness "Beautiful." He murmured softly, eyes soaking up every single detail that he could see.

I turned to him, my face pulling itself into a smile that I couldn't gauge as I watched him "It really is." I hummed softly, afraid to break the moment. He turned to me, a word dying on his tongue as soon as our eyes met, his pupils dilating further as he licked his lips. It was suddenly like he had his own gravity, some force pulling me closer to him until I could feel his heart beating against my flesh, feel the heat he radiated envelop me like a comforting blanket. Feel his skin against mine. I moved slowly as I placed my hands against his chest, afraid that we would both wake up, that he'd rebuff me with thunderous anger. He didn't, one of his hands closing around the small of my back delicately like he was afraid I'd bolt, the other continuing to tread water. Slowly, so painfully slowly, he began leaning in, his eyes half lidded as he watched me, watched as I leaned up towards him as well, just as slowly. The moment our lips touched it was like a bolt of lightning was lighting up my nervous system, everything felt so alive and tingled so good and I wanted so much more of him. I groaned against his mouth as my hands drifted up from his chest and to his shoulders, one of them cupping the back of his neck. His own grip increased, his hand splayed wide on the small of my back, pulling me into him as tightly as he could without causing pain. My heart was beating so fast I was almost sure it would explode as he deepened the kiss, giving up fully treading water to tangle his fingers in my hair to pull me in further. I reciprocated, wanting everything that he was willing to give me as I became slightly dizzy from the blood rushing around. I thought I was going to faint when his tongue brushed my lip oh so lightly, begging entrance that I wasn't going to deny him. He tasted like fish and salt and something entirely just him, and it did the last bit of competent thought I had in my head in.

He pulled away after a moment, just gazing down at me like I was something he'd never seen before, watching me blink away the kiss drunk haze that was trying to swallow me whole. "We should get back, before the others think we've drowned or something." He frowned in regret as he spoke, his tone hesitant and unwilling as he watched my expression shift.

I knew he was right, I knew it to my core. The others would think something bad had happened, and would do something stupid to try to find us. But that stupid part of my brain, that tiny bit of hopeless romantic moron, decided that his words were a rejection. That, despite kissing me like that, he didn't actually want me. That I was still his enemy. And always would be in some way. "Ya," I nodded, trying so hard to not look upset, fighting irrationality with rational thought, but my emotions were having little of it. I held my tail out to him before he could ask why I was blinking so much "So we don't get separated." I explained, beginning the swim back as soon as his hand closed around it.

We were the last to arrive at camp, and the others were sure to take the piss out of us "Find somewhere nice and cozy?" Wainfleet teased with a knowing wink, the Recoms obviously knowing something that I didn't have a whole idea of.

Quaritch just half-heartedly growled at him, waving him off to go dry off in the tent "We found a cavern off the barrier reef, its filled with glowing grubs and fungi. It's absolutely stunning!" I smiled warmly, beginning the whole process of wringing out my hair again. The thought of cutting it short entered and exited my mind quickly, knowing I'd never have the heart to have shoulder length hair ever again.

"Was there a nice sandbar in it?" Zdinarsk asked with a wiggle of her eyebrows, furthering the teasing of the others.

I raised a brow at her but decided not to entertain their antics, rolling my eyes when I realized what was going on "Nope. Not a scrap of dry land in there. I'd wager it floods, judging by the smell." I wasn't going to give them shit, and I was going to enjoy it.

"You're killin' me." Wainfleet pouted, catching on pretty quick.

"I live to please." I grinned as I twisted "We should catch some rack, we've got a long ass day when morning comes." I blinked at my words, wondering when the reversion had begun, but I didn't comment on it, and hoped they didn't either.

#miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #colonel miles quaritch #na'vi #na'vi reader #lyle wainfleet #zdinarsk #smut in later chapters #Miles Quaritch x oc #enemies to lovers #soulmates #technically

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