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greenwitchcrafts · 3 months ago

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October 2024 Witch Guide

New Moon: October 2nd

First Quarter: October 10th

Full moon: October 17th

Last Quarter: October 24th

Sabbats: Samhain- October 31st-November 1st

October Hunter's Moon

Also known as: Blood Moon, Drying Rice Moon, Falling leaf Moon, Freezing Moon, Harvest Moon, Migration Moon, Moon of the Changing Season, Sanguine Moon,, Shedding Moon, Ten Colds Moon, Winterfelleth & Windermanoth

Element: Air

Zodiac: Libra & Scorpio

Nature spirts: Frost Faeries & Plant Faeries

Deities: Apollo, Astarte, Belili, Cernunnos, Demeter, Hathor, Herne, Horned God, Ishtar, Lakshmi & Mercury

Animals: Elephant, jackal, ram, scorpion & stag

Birds: Crow, heron & robin

Trees: Acacia,apple, cypress & yew

Herbs: Angelica, burdock, catnip, pennyroyal, sweet Annie, thyme & uva ursi

Flowers: Apple blossom, calendula, cosmos & marigold

Scents: Apple blossom, cherry & strawberry

Stones: Amethyst, beryl, cat's eye, chrysoberyl, citrine, obsidian, opal, sapphire, tourmaline & turquoise

Colors: Black, blue, dark blue, blue-green & purple

Issues, intentions & powers: Cooperation, darkness, divination, healing & hope

Energy: Artistic works, creativity, harmony, inner cleansing, justice, karma, legal matters, mental stimulation, partnerships, reincarnation & uncovering mysteries or secrets

The Harvest Moon is the full Moon that occurs nearest to the autumnal equinox date (September 22, 2024). This means that either September or October’s full Moon may take on the name “Harvest Moon” instead of its traditional name. Similarly, the Hunter’s Moon is the first full Moon to follow the Harvest Moon, meaning it can occur in either October or November.

The Harvest Moon & the Hunter’s Moon are unique in that they are not directly related to this folklore or restricted to a single month. Instead, they are tied to an astronomical event: the autumnal equinox!

• October’s full Hunter Moon orbits closer to Earth than any of the other full Moons this year, making one of the four supermoons of 2024! As the Moon drifts over the horizon around sunset, it may appear larger & more orange—how perfect for the fall season!

It is believed that this name originates from the fact that it was a signal for hunters to prepare for the upcoming cold winter by going hunting. This is because animals were beginning to fatten up in preparation for the winter season. Moreover, since fields had recently been cleared out under the Harvest Moon, hunters could easily spot deer & other animals that had come out to search for remaining scraps. Additionally, foxes & wolves would also come out to prey on these animals.

Samhain

Known as: Ancestor's night, Feast of Apples, Feast of Sam-fuim, Feast of Souls, Feast of the Dead, Geimhreadh, Hallowmass, Martinmass, Old Hallowmass, Pagan New Year, Samana, Samhuinn, Samonios & Shadowfest

Season: Autumn

Element: Water

Symbols: Apples, bats, besom, black cats, cauldrons, ghosts, gourds, jack-o-lanterns, pumpkins, scarecrows & witches

Colors: Black, gold, orange, silver & white

Oils/Incense: Basil, cloves, copal, frankincense, gum mastic, heather, heliotrope, mint, myrrh & nutmeg

Animals: Bat, bear, boar, cat, cattle & dog

Stones: Amber, anatase, black calcite, black obsidian, black tourmaline, bras, carnelian, clear quartz, diamond, garnet, gold, granite, hematite, iron, jet, marble, onyx, pearl, pyrite, ruby, sandstone, sardonyx, smokey quartz, steel & tektite

Food: Apples, ale, beef, cider, corn, nuts, fruit, garlic, gourds, grains, hazelnuts, herbal teas, mushroom, nettle, nuts, pears, pomegranates, pork, poultry, pumpkin pie, sunflower seeds, thistle, turnips & wine (mulled)

Herbs/Plants: Acorn, allspice, angelica, besom, catnip, corn, deadly nightshades, dittany of Crete, fumitory, garlic, mandrake, mugwort, mullein, oak leaves, patchouli, reed, rosemary, rue, sage, straw, tarragon, thistle & wormwood

Flowers: Calendula, chrysanthemum & heather

Trees: Apple, beech, buckthorn, hazel, pine, locust, pomegranate, willow, witch hazel, yellow cedar & yew

Magical: Faeries

Goddesses: Al-Lat, Baba Yaga, Badb, Bast, Bebhionn, Bronach, Brunhilde, Cailleach, Carlin, Cassandra, Cerridwen, Copper Woman, Crobh Dearg, Devanyani, Dolya, Edda, Elli, Eris, Erishkigal, Fortuna, Frau Holde, Hecate, Hel, Mania, The Morrigan, Nemisis & Nicneven

Gods: Arawn, Baron Samede, Chronus,The Dagda, Dis, Hades, Nefertum, Osiris, Pluto, Woden & Xocatl

Spellwork: Divination, fire magick, night magick, shape-shifting, spirit calling & water magick

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Crossroads, darkness, death, divination, honor, introspection, otherworldly/underworld, release, visions & wisdom

Activities:

•Dedicate an altar to loved ones who have passed

• Boil a simmer pot to cleanse your space

• Have a silent dinner

• Light a candle for your loved ones & yourself

• Decorate your house and/or altar

• Release negative energy & cleanse yourself with a ritual bath

• Pull tarot cards to see what may be in store for you ahead

• Cleanse, clean & de-clutter your space

• Host or attend a bonfire

• Leave offerings for the Sídhe

• Journal & reflect on your accomplishments, challenges & everything you did this year

•Go on a nature walk

• Learn a new form of divination

• Have a bonfire with your friends and/or family

• Carve pumpkins, turnips or apples

• Express yourself creatively through art, music, ect

• Visit a cemetery & help clean off areas that need it or to visit a family member/ ancestor & leave an offering

• Hold a seance

• Bake spooky treats & bread as offerings

• Refresh your protection magicks, sigils & rituals

Samhain is about halfway between the autumnal equinox & winter solstice. It is one of the four Gaelic seasonal festivals along with Imbolc, Beltane, & Lughnasa. Historically it was widely observed throughout Ireland, Scotland, & the Isle of Man.

Samhain is believed to have Celtic pagan origins & some Neolithic passage tombs in Great Britain & Ireland are aligned with the sunrise at the time of Samhain. It is mentioned in the earliest Irish literature, from the 9th century & is associated with many important events in Irish mythology.

The early literature says great gatherings & feasts marked Samhain when the ancient burial mounds were open, which were seen as portals to the Otherworld. Some of the literature also associates Samhain with bonfires & sacrifices.

• According to Irish mythology, Samhain (like Beltane) was a time when the 'doorways' to the Otherworld opened, allowing supernatural beings and the souls of the dead to come into our world; while Beltane was a summer festival for the living, Samhain "was essentially a festival for the dead".

•The festival was not recorded in detail until the early modern era. It was when cattle were brought down from the summer pastures & livestock were slaughtered. Special bonfires were lit, which were deemed to have protective & cleansing powers.

At Samhain, the aos sí were appeased with offerings of food & drink to ensure the people & livestock survived the winter. The souls of dead kin were also thought to revisit their homes seeking hospitality & a place was set at the table for them during a meal. Divination was also a big part of the festival & often involved nuts & apples.

Mumming & guising were part of the festival from at least the early modern era, whereby people went door-to-door in costume, reciting verses in exchange for food. The costumes may have been a way of imitating & disguising oneself from the aos sí.

• In the late 19th century, John Rhys and James Frazer suggested it had been the "Celtic New Year", but that is disputed.

Some believe it is the time of The Goddess' mourning the death of The God until his rebirth at Yule. The Goddess' sadness can be seen in the shortening, darkening days & the arrival or cold weather.

Related festivals:

• Halloween( October 31st)-

In popular culture, the day has become a celebration of horror, being associated with the macabre and supernatural.

•One theory holds that many Halloween traditions were influenced by Celtic harvest festivals, particularly the Gaelic festival Samhain, which are believed to have pagan roots. Some go further & suggest that Samhain may have been Christianized as All Hallow's Day, along with its eve, by the early Church. Other academics believe Halloween began solely as a Christian holiday, being the vigil of All Hallow's Day.

Popular Halloween activities include trick-or-treating (or the related guising & ghouling), attending Halloween costume parties, carving pumpkins or turnips into jack-o'-lanterns, lighting bonfires, apple bobbing, divination games, playing pranks, visiting haunted attractions, telling scary stories, & watching horror or Halloween-themed films

• Day of the Dead(November 1st-2nd)-

el Día de Muertos or el Día de los Muertos

The multi-day holiday involves family & friends gathering to pay respects & to remember friends & family members who have died. These celebrations can take a humorous tone, as celebrants remember amusing events & anecdotes about the departed. It is widely observed in Mexico, where it largely developed, and is also observed in other places, especially by people of Mexican heritage.

•The observance falls during the Christian period of Allhallowtide.

Traditions connected with the holiday include honoring the deceased using calaveras & marigold flowers known as cempazúchitl, building home altars called ofrendas with the favorite foods & beverages of the departed & visiting graves with these items as gifts for the deceased.

The celebration is not solely focused on the dead, as it is also common to give gifts to friends such as candy sugar skulls, to share traditional pan de muerto with family & friends, & to write light-hearted & often irreverent verses in the form of mock epitaphs dedicated to living friends & acquaintances, a literary form known as calaveras literarias.

Some argue that there are Indigenous Mexican or ancient Aztec influences that account for the custom & it has become a way to remember those forebears of Mexican culture.

• All Saint's Day(November 1st)-

Also known as All Hallows' Day or the Feast of All Saints is a Christian solemnity celebrated in honour of all the saints of the Church, whether they are known or unknown.

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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literaryvein-reblogs · 4 months ago

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Word List: Sun

beautiful words with "sun" to help illuminate your poem/story

Sunback - having a low-cut back for tanning and coolness—used of an article of wearing apparel

Sunbaked - heated, parched, or compacted especially by excessive sunlight

Sunbath - an exposure to sunlight or a sunlamp

Sunberry - the edible fruit of the black nightshade; also called wonderberry

Sunbird - any of numerous small brilliantly colored oscine birds (family Nectariniidae) of the tropical Old World somewhat resembling hummingbirds

Sunblind - awning (i.e., a rooflike cover extending over or in front of a place as a shelter)

Sunblink - a glimmer of sunlight

Sunbow - an arch resembling a rainbow made by the sun shining through vapor or mist

Sunchoke - Jerusalem artichoke

Sundeck - the usually upper deck of a ship that is exposed to the most sun; a roof, deck, or terrace for sunning

Sunder - to become parted, disunited, or severed

Sundew - any of a genus (Drosera of the family Droseraceae, the sundew family) of bog-inhabiting insectivorous herbs having leaves covered with gland-tipped adhesive hairs

Sundial - an instrument to show the time of day by the shadow of a gnomon on a usually horizontal plate or on a cylindrical surface

Sundress - a dress with an abbreviated bodice usually exposing the shoulders, arms, and back

Sunfall - sunset

Sunfast - resistant to fading by sunlight

Sunfish - any of numerous North American freshwater bony fishes (family Centrarchidae, especially genus Lepomis) usually with a deep compressed body and metallic luster

Sunflower - any of a genus (Helianthus) of New World composite plants with large yellow-rayed flower heads bearing edible seeds that yield an edible oil

Sunglow - a brownish yellow or rosy flush often seen in the sky before sunrise or after sunset that is due to solar rays scattered or diffracted from particles in the lower and upper air

Sungrazer - any of a group of comets whose perihelions are very close to the sun and which are often destroyed by their close approach to it

Sunless - lacking sunshine; dark, cheerless

Sunpocket - solar trap (i.e., a garden or terrace so oriented as to take advantage of the sun while protected from cold winds)

Sunporch - a screened-in or glassed-in porch with a sunny exposure

Sunscald - an injury of woody plants (such as fruit or forest trees) characterized by localized death of the tissues and sometimes by cankers and caused when it occurs in the summer by the combined action of both the heat and light of the sun and in the winter by the combined action of sun and low temperature to produce freezing of bark and underlying tissues

Sunseeker - a person who travels to an area of warmth and sun especially in winter

Sunsquall - a large jellyfish

Sunstone - aventurine (i.e., a translucent quartz spangled throughout with scales of mica or other mineral)

Sunstruck - affected or touched by the sun

Sunup - sunrise

Sunwise - clockwise

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read them!

More: Word Lists

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jewreallythinkthat · 3 months ago

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Hey!! Do you happen to have a good challah recipe you can share? I bake a lot but have avoided most breads because a) my house is damp, and b) they can smell my fear. I googled it but tbh don't trust the results from goyim 😂 (they can probably make it just fine, I'm just being judgy)

I do! I use the Evelyn Rose recipe :)

Ingredients:

1 1/2 lbs bread flour (you cannot use plain flour for this)

2 oz sugar (sub 2 tbsp honey from rosh hashannah to YK)

1/2 oz salt

1 tbsp instant yeast

3 tbsp neutral oil (vegetable/sunflower)

2 eggs

10-11 floz water (10 if eggs are large, 11 if medium/small)

optional extra egg for egg wash.

Mix all ingredients together and knead until springy (around 10 minutes by hand, 5 minutes in a mixer with a dough hook). Form the dough into a ball shape, place back into the original mixing bowl. Place a plastic bag over the top of the bowl to stop the dough drying out.

Prove until doubled in size - I put it in the airing cupboard and turn on the hot water boiler in there to warm it up and it takes around 3-4 hours in winter but can be as fast as 1-2 hours in summer!

Shape into braids or rounds for the chugim. Place on a lined baking sheet. Cover again (I use a clean drying up cloth and then put it in the turned off oven to prevent any airflow that would dry it out and stop the rise properly) and prove until increased in side but at least 50% (it can double again if the yeast is really going for it).

Preheat the oven to gas mark 6 (200C/400F). Beat the egg for the egg wash and brush it all over the now proved challah. Bake for 24 minutes (turning half way through) for regular challah or 40 minutes (turning half way through) for round challah for RH up to YK.

Once baked, leave to cool for 5 minutes on the tray for the gluten to set a little before removing from the baking sheet and placing on a cooling rack to cool fully.

Eat the entire thing. Eat the entire thing alone. You will certainly not regret eating an entire challah in one sitting.

#jumblr #jewish food #challah #i am joking about the last bit #fresh challah is insanely good but even i could not eat an entire one in a single sitting #themathomhouse #ask answered

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bwwhitney · 9 months ago

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This woodpecker and its feathered friends have eaten over 100 pounds (45kg) of black-oil sunflower seeds so far this winter (and into spring)

#photographers on tumblr #original photographers #nature photography #my backyard #birds #woodpecker #099A1149

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concussed-to-pieces · 1 month ago

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Arbiter's Solstice; Part One

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: There was a soft, liquid sound that you had grown to recognize as him running his tongue over his teeth, but the former lord offered no true reply to your impudent question. Instead, he remarked, almost idly, “do you know what happened to Miranda?”

A/N: I yield, I yield. Had to chop this up into a few parts and start posting them, otherwise I never would have gotten it finished. Welcome to an AU of extreme proportions, featuring multiple of my most favorite tropes in media. Enjoy!

Tag List: @stargazerofgoldenwords @cookiethewriter @crookedmoonsaultpunk @colesterstrudel @spoopyredacted @velvet-paradox @kotall-ohh @katreneebug @missjasmine98 @sunflowers-and-swear-words @savage-rhi @nova-ivy541 @xyaswrlldd @the-videodame @luvley-shadow @akashiiiiii @nerdygirlgamer1972 @problemdawgz

[If you were tagged in error, please let me know and I’ll remove you!]

[DISCLAIMER: The last Resident Evil I played was Resident Evil 1. I have not played Resident Evil Village. I have, as ever, extensively dug into the wiki and other available resources, yet I know I am by no means an expert on the subject matter. I ask only for leniency and your charity in this endeavor, as well as forgiveness for any out of character moments or glaring mistakes. Thank you so much for your interest!]

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains gore, mentions of death, canon-typical violence and extreme depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]

When the elderly Mother Miranda had passed due to an extremely harsh Winter, the Lords had fallen briefly to infighting before partially uniting under the bloody banner of Dimitrescu, much to the dismay of House Heisenberg. There upon the bleak fields of the Heisenberg estate two nightmarish armies had met in a final clash, and the Soldats of Lord Heisenberg succumbed.

For his crimes of attempted usurpery, treachery and deceit, Lord Heisenberg was stripped of his lands and title and confined to the dungeons of Castle Dimitrescu, where he was drained of his previous strength by blood wards and terrible magics. Every year on the solstice since then, a new servant was chosen to attend to him, both a great honor and a devastating burden.

It had always been this or that, and you found that you could endure this.

…

Into a life of servitude you had been pressed at a very young age. Cleaning the floors, setting the table, trimming candle wicks. Once you grew strong enough it turned to bringing buckets of water in from the well for the kitchen or slopping the pigs, oiling the tack and saddles and mucking out the stables.

It had always been either this or that, and while you had survived this long, you knew you hadn't the strength to endure much more of the mistreatment at the hands of Lady Alcina and her…lovely daughters.

Then, you were Chosen. A great honor, so they said, reserved for only a select few. You were, of course, not released from your usual tasks. This was just one more thing for you to manage.

A terrifying lord, a ferocious fighter, The Iron Horse.

You knew the prisoner had been all those things and more, for all that he was incapacitated now. Indeed, the former Lord Karl Heisenberg seemed to linger in a dreamlike half-conscious state, so devoid of the purported verve and brimstone of his past. All that remained of that man he had been (from what you had heard, anyway) was the way he bolted his food from the proffered tray like a hungry vârcolac, hardly pausing to breathe, his unkempt facial hair often matted with the gruel-ridden remains of his meals. Food was the only thing to rouse him from his doldrums, and so it was food that was brought to him.

Every week since you had been picked to become Heisenberg's handmaiden you made the slow, trembling descent to the cell he had been bound to, a flimsy wooden tray in your hands. But it was either this or that, and you could endure bringing gruel-slop to an incapacitated prisoner, the occasional attempts to clean food off his face or blood from his back. At the very least, it kept you out of sight of the other lords for a few extra moments. It was technically safer. Technically.

Until the day when Heisenberg raised his head to look at you.

…

You nearly leaped out of your skin, startled to the point where you dropped the tray. It hit the floor with a loud bang and you crouched for a moment, curling into yourself defensively.

There was a loud snort and you heard the creaking of the ropes that bound him, but you didn't dare to look up. You began fumbling to get the bowl back onto the tray, grateful that it hadn't spilled much. The Lady was more than content to give Heisenberg nothing but the dregs of the kitchen, and sometimes not even that–

You felt hot breath huff out over your head and your hands clenched on the tray. He must have lowered his head again, adjusted himself somehow. A sharp nose nudged the crown of your head and there was a rattling inhale.

“F-Forgive me, my lord.” You stared down at the tray, internally panicking as you watched the bowl begin to quiver due to your nervous shaking. “I did not mean to disturb you.” Truthfully, you had bumped his upper arm with the tray when you stumbled on the uneven, crumbling floor, but he had actually responded to the touch, his head snapping up with alarming speed. Normally the only thing that would get him to move was the bowl placed beneath his nose.

You raised the tray so that he could eat (operating mainly off of muscle memory), and you were horrified when you accidentally caught Lord Heisenberg's gaze through his hair. His eyes felt like they were burning you alive, the intensity of that half-lidded chartreuse stare making you want to flee. Blessedly it was only for the scantest of moments that he studied you, the former lord soon returning to his meal with the dispassionate attitude of a large predator ignoring prey not worth their time. You averted your own gaze, uncertain of the punishment that could be exacted for making eye contact with the Iron Horse.

Heisenberg slurped at the bowl, the meager contents of which began to trickle down his chin and into his wiry, unkempt beard. Once more operating out of habit, you reached forward with a corner of your apron. You often wiped his mouth after he was finished eating, otherwise whatever he ate would mat into the disarray of facial hair he sported. Today however, the former lord’s tongue made quick work of the dribbles before you could even reach them.

His nose grazed your outstretched hand. “Th--ank…you.”

You knew your sudden gasp was rude, but you had also never been thanked once in your life. Servitude was expected, anticipated, demanded of you, why would anyone ever…

It had sounded like it was difficult for him to speak. He had never spoken before, you didn’t even know he could! You needed to respond, you had to say something. You finally managed to whisper, “y-you're welcome, Lord Heisenberg,” your grip tightening on the tray handles.

“Everyone else…” Another long, eternally long pause. It was so long, you wondered whether he had gone back to sleep. “...fears me. Hates me.” Those green eyes met yours once more, and you could have sworn there was the faintest gleam of curiosity. “Not you?”

Your swallow was too loud. You cringed on reflex, frantically trying to think of a response. It was true, most of the other villagers spoke poorly of the former lord. Some would even go so far as to spit when they mentioned him, and the Lady certainly harbored no great love for him. Honesty, you decided, the Lady would want me to be honest.

“You are a prisoner and…and you have not been cruel to me.” Your voice trembled slightly. “I see no reason to be cruel to you.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners and your stomach lurched terribly when you noticed, for he was smiling. “Oh, but I can be. You have no idea the cruelty I'm capable of.” The rasp of his voice lent a horrendous sense of surety to his words; you did not doubt that someone who was a sort of sibling to the other lords could be extremely cruel.

There was another agonizingly long pause. Your breath came quick and sharp. He seemed to be waiting for something from you, much as you didn't want to continue the unnerving conversation. “W-Well, you haven't been,” you managed to repeat weakly, praying that you wouldn't be punished for your blunt observation.

Heisenberg grunted, shifting his weight slightly. After a moment you heard his breathing even out. He had drifted back to slumber, then, or whatever his kind considered as such. You allowed a sigh of relief to escape you, then scurried out of the cell.

…

It was a week later that you made your way back into the dungeons, the tray bearing the usual bowl with various refuse from the week's meals and, safely hidden in your apron pocket, a few precious pieces of venison from dinner's herb-studded pot roast. It had smelled delicious while it was cooking; even now, hours later, your empty stomach twinged with hunger at the memory of the scent.

Being a humble servant you were, of course, not permitted to eat at the Lady’s table, instead subsisting off of much of the same scraps that Lord Heisenberg did. However, you could at least take your items from plates left behind on the table, instead of the kitchen’s slop bucket for the pigs. While they didn't exactly eat, Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters often pantomimed at dining, which led to half-mangled leftovers that you could safely manage to survive off of. The Lady Beneviento and Lord Moreau were the only ones who truly ate at mealtimes, though Lady Beneviento would often painstakingly cut her dinner into tiny bites to feed her strange doll for most of the meal.

When you went to feed Lord Heisenberg, the Lady Dimitrescu would stand over you as you poured the slurry from the bucket into a bowl, watching like a hawk to ensure her ‘dear brother’ wasn't ‘getting more than his due’. It was the most nerve-wracking part of your chores. Too little and she would scold you, “do you want Heisenberg to perish?”, but too much led to you being pitched across the room while the tall woman raged wildly overhead. There was no consistency either; some days you were barely permitted to cover the bottom of the bowl, while others had the bowl overflowing with the foul mixture. You supposed it was all down to the whims of the Lady, nothing more complex than that.

You wiped the sweat from your brow, frowning when you touched a tender spot. For all his simpering, Lord Moreau bore the burden of an explosive temper, the Piscean lord having lashed out at you earlier over a soup that was ostensibly too thick. Perhaps the temper was a family trait? Regardless, you were lucky that you had survived his outburst with nothing but some bruising. You knew many villagers had been torn limb from limb by the troubled lord, so you did your best to avoid garnering his attention for good or ill.

The cell (which was more of an enclosure really, a holding pen made of some sturdy, nearly-black wood) was damp, cold year-round and rarely frequented by the odd stray rat or crow. It wasn't exactly a sealed or watertight environment; the stone walls and stairs were coated with slimy moss and tiny trickles of water from the reservoir. But something about the area seemed to make most ordinary creatures give it a wide berth. Perhaps it was a combination of the smell of blood and the wards carved into that strange wood? You tried not to dwell on the subject, finding that the longer you thought about it, the more your skin crawled.

“My lord?” You called your usual greeting, grateful when he stirred at the sound of your voice. Some days it was harder than others to rouse him to consciousness. “Your meal, Lord Heisenberg.”

Just as he always did, Heisenberg hungrily tucked into the slop. While he was thus preoccupied you cautiously took one of the pieces of venison you had procured from the table and slipped it into the bowl with a soft plop. Despite your attempt at stealth the former lord seemed to immediately take notice if his sudden pause was any indicator. Again that stare was leveled at you, drowsy eyes somehow still managing to pin you in place.

“Where–did you get that?”

You hadn't expected him to speak to you again. You took a moment to recover from your shock, eventually getting out, “th-the dinner table, sir.”

His only response was a wordless grunt, the man quickly digging his teeth into the bloody, herb-laden bit of meat. A soft groan escaped him as he swallowed and you couldn't help the flush that heated your face, fixing your attention pointedly on the tray in front of you.

“I have more for you. I've already eaten.” You lied rapidly before you could think better of it, fishing around in your apron pocket for a moment. Heisenberg's expression, what little of it you could see through the curtain of his hair, had gone wary. Yellow-green eyes drifted sluggishly from your outstretched palm to your face, then back to your hand. “If you don't eat it, it will go to waste.” You insisted, trying for a reassuring smile.

The ropes binding him creaked suddenly. He lowered his head and you felt cracked lips, sharp teeth and a warm tongue barely graze your palm, then he was withdrawing to devour in peace. You exhaled as subtly as you could, trying your hardest not to seem terrified. Why on earth had you offered it to him in your hand?! He wasn't some tame beast, he was Lord Heisenberg! You were incredibly blessed to still possess your fingers.

He had left one piece in your hand. You looked up, confused, but he had already buried his face in the bowl anew to finish off the last of the slop. Nervously you tucked the final bit of meat into your mouth, chewing it slowly to savor it as much as you could.

“Thank you.” The lord's voice sounded slightly stronger, much to your surprise.

“O-Of course, m-m-my lord.” You stammered, trying and failing to keep your tone from squeaking.

The ropes hummed slightly under the strain of Heisenberg's motions, the man adjusting his legs beneath him until he was nearly able to stand properly. He loomed over you, still hunched somewhat, grunting in what seemed to be effort. You pressed your back to the wood behind you, bracing yourself for whatever might come next.

His nose brushed the bruise on your forehead and you flinched. “Moreau.” The animosity in his tone made you want to crumple, for all that it didn't seem to be aimed at you. The man inhaled, the subsequent growl coming from his chest. “-and the colossal bitch.”

“My lord–” you attempted to protest, assuming he must mean the Lady Alcina.

“Dinner was exquisite.” Heisenberg said abruptly, his eyes looking more alert than they ever had to your memory. “I'd be honored if you'd join me again next week.” His voice still sounded ragged, but he no longer had to pause between words.

Your knees shook beneath you but you managed a nod. After all, you didn't have much choice. You had to bring him his meals, otherwise it was back to Alcina and her spawn. It was always either this or that, and you could handle this.

Probably.

…

Sneaking Lord Heisenberg bits of unspoiled food from the dinner table became normal over the following weeks as the spring-gray valley shifted into the forest green of summer. Discarded chunks of meat and gristle, bits of bread, fruits that were a touch too ripe to catch the fickle attentions of the ladies of the village…Lord Heisenberg accepted every meager offering you managed to provide with a rough sort of gratitude, always inclining his head even if he didn't manage to speak. Talking seemed to tax him greatly, though certain days found him nearly alert, and he was not so prone to drowsiness as he once was.

“Where are you when you aren't bringing me my dinner?” He queried unprompted one evening, glancing up at you.

“I…” you hesitated. The man obviously bore no fondness for Lady Dimitrescu, perhaps you ought to lie about your usual occupations? Nothing good ever came from being untruthful, though. “I tend to Lady Alcina and her daughters.”

He grumbled, “That explains the smell.” While you were trying to decide whether you ought to be offended, the former lord shook himself bodily. His arms, bound to the wall behind him by those strange ropes, made a few distressing cracking noises and he grunted, this time sounding pained. “Can you–my back is…” he trailed off, trying to straighten up.

“Oh, of course.” You placed the tray down, pausing uncertainly by his shoulder. He had evidently been whipped recently, his back covered in half-healed lash marks. The tattered remains of his shirt were stuck to a few of the wounds and so you gently peeled it free, assuming that was what he needed in order to make himself more comfortable.

“Thank you.” His mouth was right next to your ear when he spoke, causing you to flinch at his husky whisper.

“W-Whatever you need.” You mumbled, keeping your eyes on the floor while you retreated. You weren't certain what then possessed you to ask, “does it…does it hurt when she does that to you?”

Overhead, a crow that had been pecking at the bars cawed loudly, the sudden noise making you start. There was a soft, liquid sound that you had grown to recognize as him running his tongue over his teeth, but the former lord offered no true reply to your impudent question. Instead, he remarked, almost idly, “do you know what happened to Miranda?”

Miranda. Mother Miranda? “She…we lost her to the winter. It was a-” your brow furrowed as you tried to recall what Lady Alcina had called the illness. “-pneumonia?”

Heisenberg roared; it took you several terrified moments to realize that he was laughing hard enough to make him wheeze. The crow took flight in a frightened rush. “Pneumonia, that's a fucking riot.” He finally snorted, shaking his head. “As if that old hag could be taken out so easily.”

“Don't–!” You began to protest before your brain caught up with just who it was that you were speaking to. Those strange yellow-green eyes leveled at you, as if he was daring you to continue. “Don't speak about her like that.” You finished, your voice barely a whisper.

“Were you even born when all that happened?” Karl sounded incredulous, but not irritated. Heartened, you shook your head, only to be battered by his harsh tone a moment later, “so you know exactly fuck all.”

“I know what I've been taught,” you replied tartly, “just like everyone else. Lady Dimitrescu is very thorough with our histories.”

Heisenberg rolled his eyes, looking for all the world like a sulky teenager. “As I said. Fuck all.”

You jerked upright, seizing the tray and marching out of the cell with the sound of the former lord's half-crazed laughter ringing in your ears.

You wanted to be infuriated, you wanted to be upset at his insinuation. But…

What could he know about Mother Miranda's death? It was true, you hadn't even been born when Miranda had passed. All you knew was what you'd been told by the Lady, what you had read in the histories of the castle.

What did Karl know that you didn't know? Was there more to the story than what you had been led to believe?

…

As the summer solstice drew near, preparations began to get underway for the annual festival. With the extra work you were hard-pressed to bring Heisenberg his meals in a timely manner, often stumbling down the stairs exhausted well after the sun had set.

The former lord seemed to regress somewhat as the solstice approached, no longer raising his head when you visited and simply waiting for his food with a vacant expression. Not that you were looking at his face! Absolutely not, you knew better than that. You simply assumed, that was all.

One evening you tripped on your hem, taking a nasty fall at the bottom of the stairs that knocked the wind out of you. Tears welled up in your eyes while you laid there on the hard-packed dirt, your scraped elbow resting awkwardly against the wall. A quiet little hiccup made its way out and you heard Heisenberg stir in his cell, the ropes creaking much louder than you expected.

“You–alright?” He called, voice grating harshly. “Anything broken?”

“Fine, I'm fine.” You grumbled, mainly to yourself, wiping the tears that had managed to escape. “Just winded.” You rolled over, moving to try and collect the tray and its spilled contents. Luckily the bowl had sloshed over onto the tray itself instead of the floor, and the prize in your pocket was unharmed. You breathed a sigh of relief, getting to your feet.

A low, raspy chuckle issued from the imprisoned man. “That's the first time you've talked to me like I was a real person.” Terrified by your momentary lapse in propriety, you tried to stammer out an apology. “Nothing wrong with it, sweetheart. If anything…it's a comfort to know I'm human to you.”

Sweetheart. A casual endearment, a kind way of addressing you. You were flushed immediately, continuing to stutter as you tottered your way across the floor. “U-Um, with dinner, I…” you finally paused, pulling free the precious loaf of herb-infused bread. “I found this. F-For you.” You knew the lie was weak, you knew he knew exactly where you'd gotten the bread. You had taken it directly from the ovens, wrapped it in a napkin and snuck it out before setting the table for the evening meal. It was your first and only act of true thievery, and you just prayed that no one would notice its absence. You didn't think you would survive that beating.

The former lord's eyes met your own and your heart started to hammer in your chest the longer he stared. He had never made such prolonged eye contact with you. It was terrifying, but…you didn't want it to end, either. Confused, you attempted to ignore that desire and instead tore a small piece off the loaf, extending it to him in the palm of your hand. He had never expressed any annoyance with your odd behavior and so you had persisted, but today…

Heisenberg's eyes narrowed. For a moment he reminded you of the animal you had once seen him as, the man refusing to break eye contact as he leaned down to eat from your palm. You chose to avert your eyes, more than a little bewildered by how you felt. His teeth delicately latched down onto the bread and you immediately retreated to pull off a fresh piece, the herbs staining your fingertips green as you did so. You were startled when he licked your fingers next, instead of simply taking the bread as he had before. Without intending to, you let out a surprised little squeak.

The lord’s eyes shot back up to your own and, while you couldn't precisely tell through the thick, matted facial hair he sported, you were almost certain that he was smirking at you. “What's wrong? Afraid I'll snap them off?” He chuckled. Truthfully you had actually considered that and he must have noticed the shudder which ran through you, because he quickly continued, “I'd be an idiot to bite the hand that feeds me, sweetheart. Especially after you've been so…accommodating.”

“I don't-” you paused, debating on just how brave you wanted to be. “Why does she keep you down here?”

“Fear.” Heisenberg's teeth flashed while he chewed his next bite. “I'm strong, even like this. I'll tear her throat out and she knows it.”

You balked. “You would fight the Lady?”

Lord Heisenberg shrugged as best as he could manage. “Why not? Something to do, right? Maybe I'll have better luck this time.”

This time.

“How many–”

“Can I get some more of that bread?” Heisenberg interrupted before you could finish your question, his attention fixed pointedly on the remainder of the small loaf in your hand.

“Oh! Of course, I'm sorry.” You pulled off another piece and gave it to him, marveling slightly at the docile way he ate it out of your palm. It was thrilling in a way, like gaining the trust of a skittish creature. You doubted he would be fond of the comparison, though. He didn't strike you as the docile type despite his current state.

“Alcina and I were close once, you know.” Heisenberg continued to chew the bread almost meditatively after he spoke, leaving you to await his next sentence with baited breath. “I was loyal to her, if you can believe that.” The former lord's expression darkened. “A faithful little mongrel.”

Your heart sank. “What happened?”

He didn't deign to answer you for several minutes. You had all but given up hope for a response when he spoke next. “Ambition.” The word was sneered, derision dripping from every letter. “Alcina didn't want to kill sweet, helpless Mother Miranda herself, but she sure as hell could get someone else to do it.” Karl’s sigh echoed in the cell. “And get someone else to take the fall for it when the old witch turned up dead. Pneumonia,” he scoffed, “she's sanitizing. That bitch and I both know what happened that day, and we both know why she went after me so hard.”

“To keep you under her control?” you ventured timidly.

Heisenberg's grin was full of more teeth than you'd like, most of them stained a dull green from the herbs in the bread. “To keep me from ripping her apart for her betrayal.” He clarified, his tone an odd singsong. “You should have heard what she promised me, that Amazonian fuck. My own village out of the valley, my own dominion, freedom. And like a blind fool, I…” He trailed off, his burning gaze going vacant.

“You believed her.” Now this, you could sympathize with. The Lady Dimitrescu had always been cruel to you, but it was the occasional softening of her tone, the honeyed promises she would make and break to you and the rest of the servants… ”I'm sorry.”

The former lord bared his teeth again. “I won't make that mistake again,” he hissed. “Someday, someday–she'd better watch that enormous back of hers.”

“Why does she whip you, then? I feel like that's…er, not intelligent.” You tried to be delicate, the guilt from speaking poorly about the Lady pricking your conscience.

Heisenberg lolled his head in your direction. “Blood, sweetheart. She's in the wine business and I guess my affinity for my…gift makes me a pretty decent vintage. Almost as good as her sweet little virgins.” The former lord stared at you thoughtfully for a moment, then closed his eyes. He abruptly seemed exhausted, his body going slack in his binds.

You took that as your cue to leave, carefully retrieving the tray and rising to your feet. As you turned to depart, however, Karl spoke up once more.

“Keep coming back to me, will you?” He requested, his voice soft. “We don't have much longer.”

Your brow furrowed in concern, but you nodded obediently.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, you were surprised to find Lady Beneviento's favorite doll, Angie, propped up in the corner of the landing. “Now how did you get there?” You mused aloud, wiping your hands clean on your apron before you carefully picked the doll up. Angie's eyes, as ever, seemed to follow your every move, and you couldn't help but marvel at the skilled craftsmanship that permitted such an illusion. “I'd better get you back to Lady Beneviento, little miss. No doubt she's missing you.”

Later that evening once you'd bedded down for the night, you found yourself tossing and turning despite your exhaustion.

‘We don't have much longer’. What could he mean by that?

…

Apparently what he meant was that you would be an integral part of the binding ritual on the solstice. You had always assumed (perhaps naively) that Lord Heisenberg's handmaidens were reassigned to serve in one of the lesser houses after their year of service, but now the whole horrible truth was being laid out neatly in front of you.

Sacrifice, human sacrifice. A handmaiden every solstice to keep Heisenberg bound, virgin blood spilled by the House Dimitrescu as was their want.

You had been dragged from your bedding in the lightless hours of predawn, barely aware of what was occurring before a burlap sack was thrown over your head and you were struck hard enough to lose consciousness.

You drifted in and out, the burlap difficult to breathe through. Someone was moving, shifting, carrying you for what seemed like hours until suddenly, freezing cold stone met the backs of your legs. You jolted to full awareness at the shocking chill, realizing as you did that your legs were bare to the knee and whatever you were wearing was not what you had worn to sleep.

The sack was torn from your head and you immediately darted your eyes around, fear and panic welling up as you realized you had never seen this room before. Some secret chamber in the bowels of Castle Dimitrescu, if you had to guess.

A marble altar beneath you piled high with dead branches, shallow channels etched into the marble flooring, and…

And the former Lord Heisenberg kneeling beside the altar, his head bowed and his hands bound in front of him.

You barely had the time to ponder that curiosity (why on earth would someone tie Heisenberg's hands in front of him?) before your attention was redirected to your own predicament. Your arms had been secured at the wrist and elbow, hands folded at the small of your back. From the ache of your muscles at the unnatural position, you could assume you'd been bound for a while. You were quickly realizing, to your dismay, that you were hardly clothed. Your normal garb had been replaced by a thin stained shift, only just long enough to brush your knees.

“Awake, awake, awake,” came the reedy voice of Lord Moreau, and his large, damp hand clumsily brushed your cheek. “Finally awake! Little morsel, l-l-little treat.”

You were unable to hide your revulsion, flinching back from his touch. The Piscean lord looked momentarily teary, but he quickly mastered himself and rewarded your lack of manners with a sharp blow to your face. The strike sent you tumbling off the altar, your shoulder meeting the marble with a hard thud. You bit your lip, willing yourself to stay quiet. It was always worse if you gave a reaction.

There was an infuriated-sounding gurgle and then Moreau was seizing your arm hard enough to make you cry out, the lord dragging you to your feet and tossing you back onto the altar as if you weighed nothing at all. “Be silent, be silent, Alcina trusted me with this.” He spoke half to himself, his webbed hands roiling over one another while he paced. “She's so busy, so busy, she trusted her favorite-”

“That super-sized bitch wouldn't trust you to wake up in the morning.” Heisenberg groaned. “This is sloppy work, Moreau. We've never done a pyre and the branches aren't even dry, you stupid fuck.”

“Don't call me that!” Moreau shrieked, his voice breaking. “Mother said-”

“Miranda's dead,” Karl interrupted him flatly. “She's dead and nothing that any of you do will bring her back. That old hag is rotting where she belongs.”

Moreau burbled wordlessly, clutching at his head before wailing, “stop saying those things about Mother!”

“Dead. Old. Bitch.” Heisenberg sneered, the former lord finally managing to kneel upright properly so he could glare at his ‘sibling’. Moreau quailed momentarily, watery eyes flicking in your direction.

“You…you have helped him!” He accused you, the piercing whine of his voice making you wince. “What have you done? Tell me what you've done!” Those webbed hands wrapped around your throat in an iron grip, the lord dissolving into gibbering hysterics while he began to choke the life out of you.

You knew full well that Lord Salvatore Moreau could easily have snapped your neck, but he seemed to have slipped into some kind of irrational madness. The knowledge did you little good, however. The reality was that you would die all the same whether he strangled you or broke your neck. As he shook you, you wondered whether anyone in the kitchens would even notice you were gone. Your hands clenched in their binds, more of a reflex than a true attempt to free yourself, but you managed to swing one feeble kick out at Moreau's side. Naturally, the aquatic lord entirely ignored it.

“Moreau!” Heisenberg's tone sounded strangely urgent when he barked the other lord's name. “If you kill them now, you'll fuck up Alcina's plan!”

Salvatore started, his grip easing minutely. “And you'll get free.” The naked fear in his voice cut through your rattled senses. Heisenberg's response was a low, guttural snarl. “I cannot fail.” Purpose and surety seemed to be breathed anew into Moreau's hideous form, the lord hurriedly lurching away to acquire a torch from a nearby sconce.

As soon as his back was turned, Heisenberg caught your eye. The man jerked his chin to the side, indicating the direction of the door to the chamber. Run, he seemed to mouth, but between your current disorientation and his tangled facial hair you were unsure. You shook your head all the same, confused and scared by the ferocity his face took on afterwards.

Karl leaned forward, bared his teeth and snapped them at you. Run, now!

You tried to stand and the uneven pile of damp branches beneath you gave way, toppling over and half-burying you in the process. Moreau made a noise of distress, shambling back towards you with a torch in hand. “What h-have you done, oh what has happened?” He asked in dismay. “All my hard work–and the solstice-! You keep ruining everything!” The lord raged, his temper seeming to flare once more. “I cannot allow-”

Clang!

The noise echoed sharply off the walls, making Moreau jump. All you could see from your awkward vantage point was that it looked like one of the sconces on the wall had given way, dumping a torch onto the chamber’s floor. The misshapen lord huffed out angrily, throwing down the torch he'd carried onto the pile of sticks by your leg.

You frantically tried to get away from the guttering flames, the dampness of the surrounding wood your only saving grace at the moment. Moreau giggled softly to himself, obviously enjoying your panicky struggle before he sauntered off towards the newly-downed torch.

Another metallic noise rang out further down the hall, but you were so intent on escaping the smoking nest around you you didn't bother looking up to see what had made the sound.

Moreau, on the other hand, released a frustrated bellow and shambled off faster.

You finally managed to roll away from the majority of the embers, the torch dying a slow death smothered by soggy, green wood. Sticks stabbed and poked into your stomach and back but you continued, doggedly kicking free of the limbs after several fitful moments.

Karl was abruptly over you, his hunched form blocking whatever meager light the torches provided. “Still.” He breathed, his voice barely a whisper. “Be still.”

You obeyed, halting on your side. The former lord bent even further, supporting his weight by planting his fists on the floor. Something whipped past your ear and then there was a bright, vibrant pain in your right upper arm. Heisenberg cursed under his breath when you gasped out, the man’s eyes darting to your own.

Your hands were suddenly loosed of their bonds, and you did your best to refrain from groaning as pins and needles surged down from your shoulders to your fingertips. Curling into yourself, you took note of the fact that a small cut now graced your upper arm.

Karl grimaced. “I missed.” After flexing your fingers experimentally, you reached forward and dug your nails into the thick, rust-stained rope that was wrapped around his wrists. Heisenberg jerked back, obviously spooked by your speed. “Won't matter.” He muttered, but he also didn't try to pull away again.

You struggled with the knots, wiping rusty-maroon flakes off your sweaty palms over and over again in an effort to secure a better grip. Finally, you managed to weasel your index into a tight loop, coaxing it into loosening.

You felt Karl exhale hard, his breath ghosting over the top of your head. However, with your bare knees pressed to the cold marble floor, you sensed her approach before you truly heard it. “The Lady.” You whispered, horror seizing your body in that familiar vise grip.

Heisenberg fell over himself in his effort to retreat, the man again indulging in a prolonged exhale of expletives. Lady Dimitrescu's voice echoed down the hall, “--you know I don't have much time Salvatore, and you promised me you could manage this…”

“I can! I can, o-of course I can.” Moreau sounded nauseatingly frantic, wet footsteps following in the wake of Lady Dimitrescu's stately heels. “I just needed a bit more…a little b-bit more time, that's all. They are not cooperating.”

“Dear, sweet Moreau, why would they? Humans are terrified of getting their heads cut off.” Alcina's words were said kindly, but you felt like you'd been punched in the stomach.

Karl hung his head from his spot on his knees, continuing to pepper the tepid air with his whispered bouts of inventive profanity.

You turned your gaze to the hallway, a shudder running down your spine as the Lady Dimitrescu and Lord Moreau entered the chamber. Dimitrescu began clicking her tongue, seeming disappointed. “Salvatore, what is all this debris?”

“A pyre!” You couldn't believe it when the lord pulled himself up and puffed his chest out proudly. “To burn the sacrifice.”

Alcina rubbed her temples.

There was a flash of movement and Moreau sailed through the air, crashing headfirst into the floor with a dull crunch. “Well, now that that's managed.” The giant woman remarked cheerily, stalking towards you. “Afraid I don't have the luxury of time on my side, so you'll be going to your grave with questions unanswered.”

You were wrenched upright, feet momentarily leaving the floor with the force of the motion. While you were grateful to be wholly free of the prickly limbs, you knew you were now even further from safety than you had been with Lord Moreau.

“Greet my dear brother, won't you?” Lady Dimitrescu cooed in your ear, her nails digging into your shoulders like talons.

You winced, trying to muster up the ability to speak. Your mouth was so dry. “Lord Heisenberg-” You managed to say, but you were cuffed across the head by Alcina without warning, the blow crumpling you to your knees once more.

While you attempted to stand again Lady Dimitrescu chided you, her tone that of a fondly exasperated parent. “Little one, you know my dear brother was stripped of his title. He is just Heisenberg, just my silly brother.”

“I apologize, my Lady.” You breathed, bracing your aching forehead momentarily on the freezing marble flooring. “Please forgive my mistake, I had no intention of offending. I simply did not know how to address the L–how to address him.”

“You should not be addressing him at all!” Alcina snapped, her wrathful eruption making you cringe. “You were to bring him his sustenance and leave. You were not supposed to make idle conversation and dawdle with this pathetic–miserable–!”

“Shut your fucking hole!” Heisenberg shouted abruptly. You dared to sneak a glance in his direction and he was glaring at Lady Dimitrescu, his expression so decidedly full of hatred that for a moment, you were unsure which of them scared you more. “Every damn year we go through this. Just get on with it already, you colossal-”

Alcina's pointed shoe buried itself in your ribs, the towering woman kicking you aside as if you weighed nothing at all. Your stomach ended up crashing into the top of the altar and you fought for breath, vision graying at the edges while your fingers clawed for a grip on the smooth stone. Through the remaining tangle of branches you felt an ornate handle, and you clutched down on instinct as you slid back off the altar to the floor. A blade met your eyes when you furtively glanced down, the sharp edge blackened with some sort of strange patina, but you didn't exactly have time to ponder the object for the Lady was speaking once more.

“I've heard tell, Heisenberg. The kitchen maids have mentioned spotting your little lamb sneaking food.” The Lady hissed. “Sneaking it to you, to poor, poor Heisenberg.”

“No.” The former lord retorted flatly. “Whatever they did with it, it wasn't for me. Maybe they were feeding a wild animal or-”

Lady Dimitrescu's fingers wound into your hair and she pulled you up onto your knees, the agony leaving you trembling. “Not a sound from your little pet, not a sound! So brave for you.” The woman crooned, tightening her grip until your scalp began to pound. “So brave and so, so foolish. Donna told me everything, little pet.”

“You titanic cunt, I already told you they didn't do anything for me!” Karl barked.

“You're so lively, Heisenberg! Normally you can barely even open your eyes. I wonder why that is.” The Lady hummed, almost to herself.

Heisenberg replied curtly, “because your moron wound me a little tight. Honestly I can't believe you trusted that idiot with something so important. You're clearly slipping.” He leaned back, shooting Alcina a look that somehow managed to be condescending. “Gettin’ fat and lazy, are we?”

Your only warning was feeling the Lady's fingers twitch. Driven by pure survival and an overwhelming desire to live, you stabbed the blade of whatever weapon you had grabbed backwards under your arm into Alcina's leg. She screamed, her hold on you slacking for a single moment, and you seized that moment to lunge for Karl.

A terrifying lord, a ferocious fighter, The Iron Horse.

“Please-!” You begged Heisenberg, frantically ripping at the knots still securing his hands. “Please, please please–” your mouth couldn't seem to utter any other words while the former lord stared dumbly down at you, then up at the Lady. You dissolved into panicked tears, hiccuping and dropping your forehead to rest on his chest in defeat.

The ancient, blood-drenched flax abruptly parted beneath your fingers like water. Karl's chest expanded as the former lord took a deep breath.

Alcina's talons drove through your shoulder and you were flung back into the side of the altar. The last thing you could recall was your temple splitting on the sharp marble corner. You could have sworn you heard Karl yell something hoarsely, and then…nothing.

…

Eternity.

Eternity spent under someone else's thumb, eternity serving another's ambitions, eternity waiting for his promised reward.

Brave, strong, loyal Heisenberg. Even the memory of their faux mother's words made him feel ill. It had always been some sort of test, a trial to overcome, just a bit further, until the resentment and Alcina's clever little jabs had burrowed deep enough for him to do something…regrettable.

Though, only regrettable in the sense that it allowed Dimitrescu to have her way. Karl would never regret what he did to Miranda. The old witch had used him long enough, and he made her end swift. The fight with Alcina was…much less simple. Frankly, he had underestimated her and as such, Heisenberg lost spectacularly.

Thus began the second eternity in his life, one where he faded dreamily in and out of consciousness for year after year. Eat the scraps, take his licks, go back to sleep. An interminable slog of time while he did his best to maintain the barest hold on his extremely-limited sanity, the yearly sacrifice-that-did-not-know pitching his food at him in disdain and laughing as the thin gruel dripped down his chin…

Worse were the lash days, where Dimitrescu took fiendish delight in wringing him dry for her decadent (in every sense of the word) vino. There, his consciousness had no recourse but to flare awake every time the whip snapped into his flesh, an ever-constant reminder of his pride, his failure. Not so much the physical pain, that he was no stranger to, but Alcina laughing uproariously at him made him want to rip himself apart from the inside out.

Silly little brother, did you really believe me?

It was always one thing or another in this damned place. Heisenberg existed in what felt like a tight, seamless loop of time. Over and over, over and over, insanity defined.

But then the most recent failure from Alcina's cadre of housekeepers began to bring him his meals. Another year had come and gone, another sacrifice-that-did-not-know, and Karl was exhausted to his very marrow. Maybe that was why he had spoken to you.

Or maybe he was just bored, and he had to admit your timid behavior was a little funny, especially after enduring the disrespect of countless others before you. You spoke to him like he was still a title-holding lord, like he still had his ill-fated army at his disposal and was still a tangible threat. It was entertaining, if nothing else.

You have not been cruel to me. I see no reason to be cruel to you.

He hadn't exactly meant to smile, but it had happened regardless. To think, after all the terrible things he had done, after all the blood he had spilled…that there would be anyone left who could claim he hadn't been cruel to them-! It was so unbelievable that he couldn't help his sardonic grin.

If only it had ended there. If he'd had any damn brains in his head, Karl knew he would have ended it there. That he hadn't spoke volumes to his mental state. Lowering himself to this level…there had been a time in his life where he would have taken as much notice of a human in his presence as he would have the wallpaper. Now, he found himself craving the albeit limited socialization and, while his pride wanted to mourn the loss of his beloved ‘superiority’, his flickering sanity simply appreciated the reliable interaction.

And you snuck him food. Real food, real food, iron-rich venison and herbed breads, real. The green herbs of the valley in particular had always been touted as a cure-all and Heisenberg had to concede that there may have been something to that claim. He could feel the old strength returning to his body with every meal, despite the blood wards knotted yearly into the ropes of his prison.

With that strength came the boundless possibility, the ludicrous hope for freedom that he had nearly given up on. He did his best not to alert his jailers, the former lord's bent pride still stinging every time he was put through his proverbial paces by Dimitrescu. Karl soothed himself with the reminder that if this worked, if this worked, it would all be worth it. The indignity…he was no stranger to it and it would not serve him to continue to be offended by it until he was able to decisively strike back at the bitch. Then, then, she would pay–

“Please!”

Begging, pleading, screaming–why were you looking at him like that?

Karl's head was spinning, he couldn't think straight, you were tearing at the eternal ropes around his wrists and then, Dimitrescu lashed out.

Victory for my master.

It had always been someone else in charge, someone else urging him on to bloodshed and war and trial. What could be the harm, then, in serving a master who had shown him kindness, true kindness? For their terrible sin they laid bleeding beside the altar before him, Alcina's cackling laughter echoing off the high ceiling of the chamber as the weak solstice sunbeam drew closer and closer. The enormous woman tore free the knife that they had shoved gracelessly into her leg, her eyes burning with rage. It was the knife she always used for the solstice, the knife that she would…

With a start that tore through the mental haze like lightning, Karl realized he knew that blade, knew that curved edge. It was a dagger that an ill-fated assassin had attempted to end Alcina with, once upon a time. What ego, for the towering Lady to continue to use such a weapon for the binding ritual!

Through his entire imprisonment Karl had felt as though he was pulling air through wet fabric. Suddenly his chest could expand fully once more, and the lord drank greedily of the essence he had been denied for so long.

His shoulders creaked like rusty gears, joints singing in reply, blessed pain bathing him with the joyous agony of life. It lives! Victor Frankenstein cried, it breathes! And as one monster to another, Karl lurched upright and took an unsteady step towards Alcina.

“Bitch.” One word, a full sentence, cutting his faux-sibling’s chortling short. “Let's see whether you can weasel your way outta’ this one, you albino sequoia.” Heisenberg slurred, relishing the way Dimitrescu sputtered in rage while he cracked his knuckles. The ropes continued to slough off his wrists, layer after layer peeling back. He was alive again, awake again.

He was still alive.

Part Two

#karl heisenberg #lord karl heisenberg #eventual romance #fix it fic #au #resident evil #re 8 #re 8 village #resident evil village #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg imagine #re 8 karl heisenberg #loyal mad dog trope #forgive me for not posting since january it's been a long year #enjoy!

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tightwadspoonies · 1 year ago

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Eating Well

If you are someone who struggles to figure out what to eat, this post may help.

There is a lot of information out there about eating well. It's important to know it's not as complicated as most guides try to make it. The following is a simple way of looking at food adapted from David Werner's Where There Is No Doctor:

You need a main food, or foods. A "Main Food" is one or more starch bases, like pasta/noodles, bread/tortilla/biscuits, hominy, rice, potatoes, taro, millet, barley, or another grain or starchy tuber.

These are usually cheap and should make up a majority of your calories. They often also provide an amount of protein, vitamins and minerals.

However, living on starchy bases alone is not adequate. To them, you need to add at least one or two each of "Go Foods", "Grow Foods" and "Glow Foods" every day.

"Go Foods" are energy foods. They are things like oils, fats, peanuts, other nuts, oily seeds (like sesame and sunflower), and sugars (like granulated sugar, honey, maple syrup, and fruit juices). Eat more of these if you are doing heavy work. They can also replace some of your Main Food, though they are often somewhat more expensive.

"Grow Foods" are foods that build muscle and other body tissues and heal injuries. They include animal foods (like meat, eggs, milk, and fish), legumes (beans, peas, peanuts, and lentils), and seeds (pumpkin, sesame, sunflower, melon, etc...).

"Glow Foods" are foods that contain a lot of vitamins and minerals. These include dark green leafy vegetables (spinach, kale, collards, turnip greens, radish greens, etc...), orange vegetables (carrots, pumpkins, sweet potatoes, tomatoes, peppers, winter squash of any kind, etc...), fruits (apples, pears, berries, quince, etc...) and other vegetables (turnips, radishes, summer squash, onions, cabbage, etc...), herbs and spices (chili powder, garlic, cumin, thyme, oregano, sage, cinnamon, etc...).

Example meals (each meal does not need to contain all types of foods, as long as someone is eating some of each every day):

A rice bowl (Main) with vegetable (Glow) and bean (Grow) curry (Glow).

Oatmeal (Main) with whole or coconut milk (Go, Grow) and berries (Glow)

Spaghetti (Main) with tomato sauce (Glow) and meatballs (Grow)

Tapioca pudding (Main, Grow, Go) with cinnamon and nutmeg (Glow)

Farrow (Main) with stewed tomatoes (Glow) and olive oil (Go)

Zucchini boats (Glow) with black beans (Grow), rice (Main) and cheese (Go, Grow)

Baked potato (Main) with broccoli (Glow) and cheese (Go, Grow)

Potato (Main) and spinach (Glow) curry (Glow)

Whole fat yogurt (Grow, Go), granola (Main, Go), and berries (Glow)

Peanut butter (Go, Grow) and jam (Go, Glow) on toast (Main)

#food #eating #eating well #health

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queerxreader · 2 years ago

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Howdy!! I was wondering if you could do a Logan x m!reader who has a harpy mutation and it’s a wing care thing, I think it could be interesting because caring for a birds wings is a very intimate thing. And or a spideypool + m!reader cuddling fluffy piece?

- 🎭

Logan/Wolverine x M!Reader with Harpy Mutation/Wings.

Bird, Bath, and Intimacy.

Featured/Warnings: Vague angst and Nudity. Baths. Comfort and Care. Fluff piece. Flirting.

Writer’s Note: I Really adore the idea of Logan this big tough guy being so gentle and caring towards his winged boyfriend. Also I’m still planning on writing a Spideypool cuddle fic but it’ll be separate from this. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! And apologies for how long it took to push this out.

“Stay still. Quit your flapping.” Logan’s gruff voice barked at you.

Your feathery appendages had a mind of their own, and when it came to Logan’s touch your soft wings fluttered for the callous man.

“I’m trying, I’m just not used to someone else taking care of my wings”

“Someone has to.”

Though he sounded aggravated to be helping you, you could sense his calmness. You knew deep down he cared for you, otherwise he wouldn’t have even offered.

You were sitting on your legs in the tub, the lukewarm water felt relaxing on your skin. Logan sat on the inner edge of the tub, his feet soaking in the water with his jeans cuffed up as high as he could manage on his toned calves. He was softly kneading his fingers into your feathers. His hands were coated in a special soap that was advertised to be strong enough to get oil out of ducks. He assumed this would be the best alternative compared to the shoddy attempts at cleaning yourself were.

He noticed your difficulty cleaning your wings when he saw you one early spring morning. He couldn’t sleep again so he was just having a beer as a breakfast appetizer. He looked out the kitchen window to enjoy the beginning of the sunrise. There you were, out there waiting on the edge of the fence, he pondered what you were doing, but instead of going outside to ask he just enjoyed this new view that seemed to outshine the sun rising.

Abruptly the sprinklers chittered on, Logan knew they were scheduled to do this, but it always raised the hairs on his arms. The sprinklers were always really tall in the mornings due to the expectation that everyone would be asleep this early in the day.

You promptly thrashed your wings to glide down

through the high force water oscillating into the air. All Logan saw between your swift flailing of wings and every few moments he’d see your mostly nude masculine frame covered by a pair of tight swim shorts. He admired the way your wet body glistened in the pale morning light, it was times like this he swore you were an angel rather than a harpy-adjacent mutant humanoid. He still loved you as the latter reality, however.

He saw you land atop one of the garden statues, you perched there for a second before shaking and writhing your feathers and hair dry. He always thought you were kidding when you said you bathed exactly like a bird. While he did think it was cute watching you do your avian drying dance, he wondered if you did this year around. Wouldn’t you get sick doing this during the winter or fall, only so much of your genetics include this mutant bird dna, what about the human parts?

As you got to a decent stage where you could just air dry the rest of your body, you hovered over the patio to retrieve your robe and enter the mansion.

You only got so far into the door of the kitchen before a gravelly voice teased you.

“Did'ja have a nice bird bath?”

You nodded while sitting down at the kitchen table, “I did actually, I’m fixing to have some breakfast.”

“I think we have some sunflower seeds in the pantry for you to peck on.”

“Ha. Ha. Really funny, wolf boy.”

“You were serious about those bird baths. I thought you just took regular baths like the rest of us.”

“Newsflash, blades-for-joints, do I look like the rest of ‘us’?”

“Hey now, I was just saying I didn’t expect it to be true.”

“Well you caught me, now what.”

“I don’t think a rinse is good enough to get you clean. Those feathers are complex.”

“Yeah, so are a bird’s.”

“But you’re not all bird.. you have a human immune system and taking baths like that—

“Aw Logan, you’re worried about me getting sick? Don’t worry I never get sick.”

Almost like you had jinxed yourself, you sneezed instantaneously.

He smirked, pleased with being right, however there was a tiny glint of concern in his eye. A literal blink and you miss it type of glint. You’re glad you didn’t miss it though.

“See.”

“Whatever. It’s just ‘cause it’s cold in here.”

The memory fades as Logan turns the shower hose on you, the warm water juxtaposing the now cooler water you sat in. You shivered and then eased into the soothing feeling of water flowing between your wings in places you could never reach on your own. Logan rubbed his rough hands between your shoulder blades massaging the sensitive spot. You keened into his touch as he kneaded the tender spot that connected your wings to your spine.

“I know this spot takes a lot of weight, it must hurt to keep these things steady all the time”

“You have no idea,”

“Believe me I do— these claws are a bitch when I unsheath them.”

“It hurts everytime.” It was a question but you phrased it as a statement since you already suspected the answer. Your wings often hurt when you first spread them out after a day of binding them away into your clothes to simply function amongst the quote-on-quote normal humans. But you couldn’t imagine the pain of having blades push out between your knuckles, it obviously was only a torture he could endure.

The healing factor was what made it somewhat bearable you assumed, but you wondered where all that physical trauma went when it went away. It’s possible that that pain replaced itself into mental and emotional stress, causing this man’s emotional state to be so toughened and built up high.

Though he hated sharing about himself, it often just flew out in conversation casually whenever he spoke to you. He felt he could truly put his guard down and trust you, and clearly you felt the same. The more he spoke the more you realized his concern wasn’t just that of a teammate or a close friend, he genuinely feared losing you. He’s mentioned losing many people he’s loved before, and sometimes he’s not taken the time to focus on the little things. It’s then you understand what this means to him, you allowing him to take care of you, this was for both of you. It would take a lot for him to admit that, he swore this was only for your own good. He’d chalk it up to you being careless and reckless, though he knows if he didn’t heal as quickly you’d be tending to his wounds like a mother hen every single mission.

As he opened up to you, growing distracted, you felt him knead into the width of your back a little rougher with his hand, right into a tender spot. Your wings thrashed upon the sensation, splashing water all outside the tub and all over the damp man. He practically growled at the sudden jostling of feathers, dropping the sprayer. The water spewed all over both of you. Logan’s jeans were already wet despite cuffing them at the ankles, but now they were practically a darker color from the wetness. His white shirt was now drenched completely too, you looked up at him laughing at him.

“That was on you. You know it’s sensitive there.”

Logan huffed a sigh, “I know,” he discarded his shirt, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by it clinging to his skin.

“Let’s try this again, just relax, okay?”

“It would be a lot easier if I could just lay back into this tub but I can’t.”

Logan adjusted the setting on the sprayer and continued aiming the warm water into the middle of your back. You sighed calmly. He softly spoke to you as he rubbed circles into your back instead of kneading, “better?”

“Much, much better,”

“I’m sorry the massage didn’t work,”

“It’s okay, you know how my wings are under your touch,”

He let out a low chuckle, smiling at you as he continued to rinse and softly rub your feathers clean.

You soothed one of your hands to hold his. You pecked a small kiss onto his hand. “We might have to do a massage another time, without water.”

Logan let out a small laugh through his nose, “I guess so, just let me know when.”

It was silent for a moment as he finished rinsing you. Finally when he was done, he assisted you in standing up, he placed a warm towel on your head and shook it to dry and fluff up your hair. When he took the towel away he saw your eyes looking at him adoringly.

“What’s that goofy look for birdbrain?”

“Thank you,”

“S’no big deal.”

“No,” you leaned closer to him, your bare wet legs pressing against his damp and taught jeans. You made sure your eyes had locked while you took both of your hands into his. You pecked a kiss onto his cheek ever so chaste. “Thank you, Logan.”

His face felt warm, he blinked in awe. You had been together for a while now and yet you still flustered him. As he turned around to return the gesture you were already headed out the room. Your wings shook erratically for a split second to rid the remaining water. Logan caught most of the extra splashing against his already dripping clothes, he didn’t mind it. He was just glad to be able to take care of you.

Even after looking at the flooded floor, he still had a grin on his face as he heard you leave.

“See ya later, feathers.”

#wolverine x male reader #Logan x male reader #Logan x m reader #wolverine x m reader #im half asleep posting this so if there’s any errors that’s why #x men x reader #x men x male reader

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rebeccathenaturalist · 1 month ago

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This may not seem like a very impressive photo, but it's very exciting for me! I just set up my bird feeders in Portland a few weeks ago, and unsurprisingly no one showed up immediately. The scrub jays found the endless plate of peanuts after a few days because they're just smart that way, but since the two old cherry trees in front of the apartment building got cut down last month the most convenient shelter for smaller birds to retreat to after visiting the feeder is gone.

Imagine my joy this morning when I got up and saw not one but TWO red-breasted nuthatches (Sitta canadensis) visiting the black oil sunflower seed feeder! One female (pictured here) and one male, likely a mated pair, have been flitting back and forth, making their little chittering sounds back and forth (as opposed to the territorial "beeping" more commonly heard earlier in the year.) Hopefully their activity will signal to other songbirds that there's food, and the local woodpeckers will discover the suet feeder.

I know bird feeders have become increasingly controversial in recent years, due in part to the risk for disease transmission. This is why it's so important to clean them regularly, not just removing old food but spraying them down with a 1:9 bleach:water solution and then scrubbing thoroughly with hot soapy water. I've only ever had one house finch with conjunctivitis show up, and I was quick to bring the feeders in and leave them in for a few weeks before cleaning and putting them back out.

And yes, I agree that a yard full of native plants that provide year-round food opportunities for birds and other wildlife is ideal. However, I don't have a yard. I have a 3x8 balcony, and I live in one of the older neighborhoods in Portland that, but for a few yards, is pretty scarce on native plants and pretty heavy on non-native ornamentals, so natural food sources are thin on the ground for those birds and other wildlife that are tolerant of urban living.

I'll get some natives in pots next spring for pollinators, but apartment management says I have to remove any dead vegetable matter in the fall, which means getting rid of seeds birds would normally eat over winter. I won't be able to create an appreciable amount of food for birds in this space, so feeders are the next best option, giving them something to eat without further reducing their fear of humans. (Let's be clear: any wild animal that lives in this neighborhood has got to be pretty tolerant of us, but that doesn't mean we should be encouraging them to be even less wary.)

Plus, quite honestly, they're good for my mental health; while I don't regret my move back to Portland, I do miss the easy access to a wide range of native biodiversity right outside the door. Being able to once again look out my window and see birds visiting is really good for me, and helps me get through those days when I am stuck at the computer for far too long.

#birds #birbs #birdblr #birdwatching #birds of Tumblr #red-breasted nuthatch #songbirds #wildlife #animals #wild animals #urban wildlife #urban nature #bird feeders

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bathic · 24 days ago

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5. It was a fantasy you couldn't understand the appeal of.

Word Count: 2.4k

Guts, innards, some kind of organ— whatever resided on the inside of the body that wasn’t bone and could rot without use always had a certain poignant smell to it.

That’s what the tunnel of the Northward entrance smelled like. A gag inducing smell of fish carcass and spoiled meat-product amplified by the abnormal humidity made your stomach churn in the most vomit-inducing way. You already felt on edge, walking to an undisclosed location in an undisclosed place with two complete strangers that have been anything but welcoming— it wasn’t like Wooyoung’s last spoken words to you made you feel like an honorary guest. In fact, he practically told you that you should have killed yourself when you had the chance.

A small insufferable voice at the back of your head seemed to agree with him, maybe you should have flung yourself off that landing. It’ll bring an end to a lot of things— the years of abuse, the trauma you carry in a tightly secured bag, every bit of emotional instability that has left you feeling more like a stranger than the woman you’ve grown to be.

The possibility of ever seeing the monster who has left more scars on your soul with the buckle of his belt would cease to end.

But wouldn’t that already be in motion? You’ve gone down into the wide mouth of the pit, far from that hollow shell of a home and away from the beast that stalks its faded periwinkle walls. Unless he, at some point after you did, dived in with the intent to recapture his beloved prey. Yeonjun often joked in the beginning that you were a canary, with sunflower yellow feathers reminiscent of the wild splendor of spring. But those little playful quips turned into solemn reminders; a canary with broken wings and clipped feathers confined to a rusted cage to never flourish once the winter snow has all but melted.

Something damp fell heavily onto your shoulder, immediately soaking into the fabric of your grime covered shirt. It pulled your attention from out of your dagger-ended thoughts in an instant, the warmth and awful smell made you gag hard. Like sewage and fish left under hours of constant daylight.

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it— if you do, you know, stay around long enough. That’ll be up to the captain.” Wooyoung hadn’t spoken a single word since telling you that you should have definitely ended your life while the choice was on the table. You had looked back at him with the deepest crease in your brow, sputtering a lilted ‘what?’ that was answered with the most nonchalant shrug. Then he shoved you forward by knocking his knees into the backs of your own, making you stumble over lumpy grooves in the floor.

Yunho remained silent, walking ahead without ever once turning around to see if you were still following along. In his left hand was a small oil lamp he had snatched up just a step past the tunnel entrance.

“What do you plan on doing to me?”

“I don’t plan on doing anything to you. However, I can’t speak for our leader. He’s not the most… friendliest of moths. To be fair, he’s kind of an ass—“

“Wooyoung.” Yunho had stopped dead in his tracks, making you halt and the other man to follow in kind. He didn’t turn, keeping his back to the both of you.

“But—! I love him— we love him. Couldn’t ask for a more stubborn, temperamental—“

“—Jung Wooyoung, you’d be a wiser man if you didn’t finish that sentence.”

The sound of someone new made you stiffen, toes curling into the damp ground hard enough that whatever made up the surface collected between your toes. Wooyoung bumps your shoulder as he passes by, huffing out a callous little laugh while rounding to Yunho’s side.

“All jokes, Hwa.”

Hwa wasn’t amused in the slightest, eyeing the younger man with pursed lips and an uncanny stare— all wide eyed and unblinking.

“Did Captain send you?”

“Yes, in fact, he did. Figured you both have dawdled long enough… plus his curiosity has peaked despite his anger.” Seonghwa’s gaze drags over to Yunho, “Don’t take it to heart. What he said, you know how he gets especially as of late with… everything.” A hand rises to wave almost elegantly about, motioning to nothing in particular.

“Yeah, right.”

“So where is it? The someone or something or what-have-you?”

Wooyoung reached back to snatch at your arm, expecting to feel the warmth from your skin and the dried grime along the hair covered surface but instead he pawed at empty air with a few outstretched swipes. His brows furrow, something Seonghwa mirrors as if he was also greeted by the opposite of what he was anticipating. Yunho looks between the two in confusion, turning his body to the side and glancing back at where Wooyoung’s arm is flailing about.

He expected to see you standing there, waiting in his shadow but instead there was nobody occupying the spot.

You were gone. The realization making Yunho curse under his breath. “She’s fucking gone.”

“Gone?! What do you mean—“ Wooyoung spins around in a rush and nearly topples over his big, booted feet, wings flaring out and whipping across the front of Yunho’s legs. The older bites back a hiss.

“What do you mean by ‘gone’? Who is gone?” Seonghwa wedges himself into the space between the two, glancing about from each fleshy wall of the tunnel as if the ruddy grooves would give him a clue.

“She— the someone! The one we found and were bringing back to Hongjoong. She was… right here!” Wooyoung jabs a finger at the spot he definitely remembers you standing in.

“Well, she clearly isn’t there anymore. Which means she’s running loose through the tunnels.” Seonghwa turned to fix Wooyoung with a hardened glare.

Yunho raises his wrist when the half-dome chimes, unfolding open and letting the blue hologram expand into sight. Wooyoung cursed at the sight of it while Seonghwa straightens, attention trained solely on the floating head.

”Hey.”

“Seriously, Jongho?!”

"Where are you?"

Choosing to ignore Wooyoung's outburst, Jongho continues albeit with a bit of cocky lilt. "Ah, Wooyoung... don't sound so happy to hear from me. Actually, you probably should. If only you knew what I know then you would rather it be my voice than captain's."

"Jongho, where is Hongjoong?" Seonghwa inquired without a second to spare. The chime was specific, one that was used solely by Hongjoong. The rest of them had their own, specifically created for identification purposes when trying to communicate from great distances-- and when the hologram communicator malfunctioned. Something in a long list of things needed to be fixed by Yunho and Wooyoung.

"Nuh-uh, I asked first."

Seonghwa pinches the bridge of his nose before, ever-so-sweetly, replying back with a strained smile that would go unseen by the man on the opposite end. "As cute as you are, I really don't find you at all endearing at the moment. Now, where is Hongjoong?"

"Captain's in the brig."

Yunho looked over at the other two with wide eyes, "The brig?"

“Why is he in the brig, Jongho?” There was a hint of urgency in Seonghwa’s voice, something that put both Yunho and Wooyoung on edge.

Nobody ever went down into the brig unless it was in use, not the crew and certainly not the captain. The last time it was occupied had been nearly five cycles ago. An unspeakable time shoved far into the dark and away from prying inquiries. Yunho could remember as clear as spring water near the Hot Coves of the captain's wrath when San had tried to bridge a conversation into the traumatic event, his intentions doing more harm than good. It would cost him a small price, but his sworn loyalty didn’t sway his devotion— to the crew, to his mated ties, to the captain. So, if Hongjoong was down there, that only meant one thing…

”Why else would he be there?”

The question was rhetorical— they all knew the exact reasoning, didn’t need it spelled out in front of their eyes to understand. But Jongho would do so anyways, cementing everyone’s thoughts into a tangible mass.

”You know what happens when pests end up in the web of a spider and unless either of you want your little…escapee gutted from belly to chin then you’d better get to running. And good luck, captain is in his foulest mood yet.”

The hologram shrunk and the half-dome retracted, leaving the three in complete silence.

“We are so fucked—“

Seonghwa scoffs, distancing himself slightly from the other two. “No, we are not fucked but you two are. I refuse to be dragged into your little mess.”

Yunho plows a hand through his hair, making the sweaty strands clump together into a human version of a bird's nest. “What do we do?”

“She couldn’t have gotten that far, not without some kind of preexisting knowledge of the tunnel system plus,” Wooyoung pauses to nudge a finger against the oil lamp still clutched in Yunho’s left hand. “—she’s as blind as a cave beetle without any light to guide her way. Shouldn’t be too difficult to seek her out.”

“Who even is she? You’ve completely avoided answering my earlier question… which, isn’t even worth having an answer for since I’m only partially aware of the ‘who’.” Seonghwa sighed, placing his hands on his leather-bound hips. Had he known this would have happened he probably would have forfeited Hongjoong’s clipped request of finding the two— three-time wasters.

Wooyoung looks to Yunho to answer but the taller avoids his gaze with a frown.

“Just… someone.”

“You wouldn’t have gone through all these inconveniences for just some someone, Wooyoung.”

He winces slightly, scratching at the skin on his cheek.

“Well, you see, it’s really a funny little story. Just a small jesting tale, a bit of joke foreplay—“

“He’s blindly sworn up and down that the ‘who’ is a birdling.” Yunho knew they were pressed for time and could not stand another round of Wooyoung’s bush beating.

Seonghwa jerks his head in Wooyoung’s direction, brows furrowed. “You brought a birdling here?!”

“No— yes— I don’t know! Maybe… I’m not completely sure and— and Yunho is just as guilty of the assumption!”

“Don’t put your blame on me! It was your idea to bring her here and let the captain—“

“Enough, both of you!” Seonghwa rarely raised his voice, but the dire situation was getting even more worse the longer they stood around and pointed their fingers at each other. “I’ve heard enough to know that you two are absolutely fucking brain-dead when it comes to making cognitive decisions.”

The two look away from each other with a properly scolded expression, perfectly mirrored and equally reflecting of the eldest’s words. Seonghwa was right, they fucked up and now was not the time to be focusing on how sour things were quickly becoming between the two.

If Hongjoong got a hold of you somehow, then they would be in deeper shit beyond just being late.

Yunho tilted his head in thought, “Who’s on tunnel shift?”

“Yeosang, why?”

It didn’t click at first when Seonghwa relayed the information but watching Yunho’s eyes widen and Wooyoung’s head nearly separate from his neck as he whipped it around to face Seonghwa with an equally nonplussed expression made the switch flick and the dawning creep uncomfortably along his folded wings.

His mated tie didn’t take kindly to strange happenings and unknown encounters, and his loyalty to Hongjoong and the crew rivaled that of San’s. Only difference between the two, however, was the latter lacked a body count.

The moment everyone’s attention was adverted, you ran. Took off down the tunnel blindly while trying to remember anything familiar about the turns and adjourning tunnels that seemed to drag on and on. You compared the connective system to that of a grand garden maze you’ve seen on prints of whimsical paintings lining the walls in the town library. Soobin often rambled about them like a madman, wondering what it’d be like to get lost within the manicured hedges, having time escape you with every twist and turn. You’d look at him with a raised brow, observing the way his eyes would gloss over from behind his round framed glasses. It was a fantasy you couldn’t understand the appeal of. Not even now, as you stumble in no direction in particular and all directions at once.

Everything was an exact carbon copy of itself— each tunnel bathed in fleshy reds and pinks that felt squishy and slick to the touch. The smell had grown to linger, weighing heavier in certain directions as you trotted down one end of a winding passage to the beginning (assumedly) of another. Rotten sea life and dank algae you’d often find growing into stringy sludge ropes around the mouth of the outside spigot after removing the worn garden hose. The thought alone mixed with the smell had you gagging without a single chance to catch it, making your chest and throat burn and the warm acrid taste of your saliva to pool uncomfortably in your mouth.

You pause to spit, hand resting against the slimy wall, second-guessing the almost uncanny shifting beneath your palm. If you acknowledged it (as if you weren’t already), surely more than just spit might make home inside your mouth. Bile churned uneasily in your gut, and the more you wished to ignore the undulating the more it sunk into your head that the walls were definitely moving. You stumble back and away, knocking into something hard and immobile.

Wishful thinking hoped it was just a normal wall or perhaps a stack of wooden boxes filled with something to aid in your hasty escape. But walls nor boxes could grow arms, couldn’t possess the type of strength currently crushing your throat and ribs.

And they certainly couldn’t talk either.

“You will stay quiet if you know what’s good for you.”

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Masterlist

#ateez fanfic #ateez fic #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho #poly ateez #hybrid!ateez #human!reader #ateez x reader #bathic's:Pit

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