Until I can get my thesis works photographed and posted, here's some of the development work for them! I started this particular series about halfway thru my thesis semester after feeling really stuck. Late one night I had the idea of a coyote-headed person having cut off their own head and were muzzling it. I drew it right there [the first sketch] and then over the next few days I had planned out the rest of my thesis.

Being Best Friends with Klaus Hargreeves Would Include...

Anonymous said: Hey, not sure if you've done anything similar to this before but could I request 'Being best friends with Klaus Hargreeves would include...' I love your blog, thank you! x

I’m baaaaaaack (at least for a bit!)! Enjoy and cut me some slack as it’s been a while since I’ve written fanfiction; especially TUA fanfic!

It’s not entirely his own fault but Klaus is not the greatest influence.

So if you have a rather cautious personality, be prepared to do things far outside of your comfort zone.

If you’re more attuned to Klaus’ chaos, be prepared to get on the wildest ride of your life and probably definitely get into trouble.

If chaos is your thing you might become more cautious around Klaus! Who knows!

Either way you lean, you’re going to get used to the turbulence that comes with Klaus.

Perhaps that’s why you’re so close to begin with.

When he was younger, Klaus was rebellious to combat the structure of his Father’s schedules and training regimes.

Sadly, he could never really rebel enough to free himself entirely.

Aside from his brothers and sisters, Klaus didn’t have friends. 

So, when he met you, he dived in head first; all the good, bad, and the ugly.

It was after what Klaus remembers/believes was his first big bender when he found himself in a coffee shop, studying the menu with glossy eyes. 

It was one of your first jobs, working as a barista/baker. 

Klaus was wearing a long, faux fur line jacket, a pink crop top, and jorts (jean shorts). 

Because of his piece-meal outfit, you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

That and he was holding up the line as he debated what he had the munchies for. 

“What would you get…”

“What?” You raised your brows at him, surprised he finally spoke up.

“What would you get if you had stayed up for three days straight, wine tasti-wine hoarding really, and raving in the best clubs of the city?”

“An aspirin and a chai latte probably.”

“Ah! Yes! A chai latte sounds ammaazing right now. Maybe a cookie too.”

“Snickerdoodle?”

“It’s like you can read my mind! Wait, can you? At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

After he got his cookie and his chai latte, the strangely dressed man made himself comfortable in the coffee shop.

After a few hours, Klaus was what your manager considered loitering.

Hell, after the last few hours of your shift and Klaus still lingered, your manager offered to walk you to your car.

“I think he’s just…”

You looked over and saw him, Klaus, idly twirling a pair of sunglasses between his fingers.

“...he’s just lost.”

When you had gathered your things and cleaned up after your shift, you wandered over to where he sat.

It took a moment before he took notice of you but when he did, he stood up quickly.

“Hey you,” he said in a rushed breath (somehow it still sounded flirtatious). 

“Hey, uh, I’m Y/N.”

“Oh! What a lovely name!”

He extended his hand to you and you finally saw the tattoos on his palm.

“I’m Klaus, my dear. Care for an adventure?”

That first ‘adventure’ was one that you would remember forever.

Klaus took you to his favorite second-hand shop and you thrifted horrendous articles of clothing.

You still have an incredibly chunky, cable-knit sweater from that day; when you miss Klaus, you wear it.

Klaus bought two wigs, decent wigs, with what money he had.

Outside, Klaus turned to you and grinned.

“Put this on, will you?”

“Pink isn’t re-”

He was already tugging the wig over your head.

“Pink is so your color, trust me,” he gestured to himself, “I know style.”

When he donned the other, curly haired, wig, Klaus led you to an array of establishments with less than welcoming atmospheres where you ‘borrowed’ some merchandise.

Klaus has not mercy for racist or homophobic stores/companies and ‘borrows’ from them often. 

Klaus nearly got caught, he lost his wig in the fray.

You had never felt more alive.

You had never smiled wider.

It was thrilling; he was thrilling. 

But he wasn’t thrilling all the time. 

After that day, you and Klaus were attached to the hip and you learned there were other parts to him outside of the bubbling, endearing chaos.

His addictions became startlingly apparent.

During his many sleep overs, he would search through your cabinets, your fridge, any other place he could think of, for booze.

“Klaus?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Whatcha doing?”

“Hunting for our dinner, what’s it look like.”

You set a limit on the number of drink he was allowed to have when he stayed over at your place (which was quite often). 

You didn’t want him to suffer but you didn’t want him black-out drunk, or high either.

Overall, you tried to rein in his drug use; for his own sake. 

When he isn’t wasted, Klaus tries to keep himself busy in other ways.

This meant a lot more ‘adventures’ for the two of you. 

Small trips to cultural grocery stores to try different foods

Thrift shopping; because Klaus is always looking to add to this wardrobe. 

You draw the line at dumpster diving.

“You’re missing out, Y/N! When I lived in LA for a week, this is how I survived.”

“You lived in LA?”

“For a time. Lots of bikinis...roller skates too.”

Other times you and Klaus would just walk around the city talking.

The two of you would create fantasy lives for the people you passed by, giving them wild powers like Klaus and his siblings.

Sometimes you would listen to Klaus talk about his siblings.

Your favorite stories to listen to were about Ben.

“After that, pigeons never seemed to land on the roof. Too scared I think. Ben and I did too good of a job.”

“Sounds like he was an amazing guy.”

“Yeah, he was. He likes y- I, he would have liked you.”

You tell him about your family, about your own struggles.

Through this sharing, this walks and talks, you both grow closer.

These winding walks often end at Griddy’s diner. 

“Slap me on the ass and call me Bessy, I forgot how good strawberry donuts are!”

When you return back home, your place, but Klaus calls it home, you settle in.

Klaus will braid his hair, offer to try to braid yours.

“Please, it keeps me busy.”

“What would you do without me?”

“Die of boredom, or just die, probably.”

If you both have a night cap drink before bed, you guys might dance.

Klaus tries to teach you a few moves before giving up.

“Just feel the music, my dear, feel it.”

Eventually, you both collapse and cuddle for a bit.

Klaus is a big fan of platonic cuddling so prepare for that.

Movie nights!

Due to his ‘training’ and his powers, Klaus tends to stay away from horror films so get ready for rom-coms and cheesy action movies.

“Have you ever wanted to do that?”

Klaus has a habit of asking questions during the movie; none of which are crucial to the plot of said movie.

“What?”

“If we got a boat, would you do the whole ‘I’m king of the world’ bit?”

“I mean, why wouldn’t I do it?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

There are nights when you can hear him whimpering from the couch where he sleeps.

Those nights, you creep out of your room and wake him up.

“Bad dream?”

Klaus never responds to the question, ever.

Instead, he curls up next to your and you play with his hair until he falls asleep again. 

The next morning, over coffee, you try to get him to talk about it.

Sometimes he does, other times he distracts from the topic.

Either way, you hug him.

“I’m here for you, Klaus.”

“I’m here for you too. Otherwise, I’m homeless.”

He is always trying to set you up with people.

You’ll be working at the coffee shop and he’ll come up and pretend to buy something just to tell you: “table in the far corner. They’ve been glancing your way a lot.”

“Klaus….they’re waiting for their order.”

“Oh. Well, you never know.”

That always leaves you smiling.

It’s hard not to be happy with Klaus as your best friend.

Even when he’s down or you’re down, the two of you together seem to lift one another up.

Being Klaus’ friend means having fun and feeling, feeling so much.

You feel his past pain, his struggle, his grief, in the same turn you feel his joy, his wonder, and his spark for good.

And in that, you inspire each other to do and be better.

Multi-Dimensional pt. 1

The Company x Reader

I would love more parts of this tbh. But I would also love a scenario just like this but involving The Company??? Maybe? If you feel up to it. __In reference to the fellowship one I recently posted.

Living on a farm kinda far from other people was a very conscious decision. 

It’s not like you just up and left and decided to do it on a whim or anything, this was calculated carefully and planned accordingly. 

There are two very important reasons why you chose to live a bit further from the neighborhoods, semi-rural if you will, and these two reasons include; A. your desire to have as many animals as you want, and B. not wanting to deal with BS constantly in a crowded neighborhood or apartment complex. 

It’s not that you dislike people or anything like that (though you do like animals more), but being surrounded by them 24/7 isn’t something you much like. 

Now one may wonder; how do you manage to afford an updated country house with multiple animals as well as yummy home-cooked meals and other leisure’s? 

Well, the answer to that is quite simple. 

Not all of the animals are actually yours. 

You’re an animal sitter/trainer. And not just any animal sitter, but one with a degree and huge amounts of land and access to numerous pet care supplies. You have a friend, a very good friend, who owns a share of a large scale farm and pet care grocery chain, so you literally get everything for either half the price or literally free. And your rates as a pet sitter with a degree and previous experience are freaking massive. 

Like, up to $25/hour maximum, massive. For multiple days, and sometimes a week. 

Saying you’re loaded is an overstatement, but  very  well off suffices. 

Anyways, you live pretty simply. You take care of your animals, go out around the city and have someone watch the house, eat some good dinner, and just… relax. 

It’s never lonely when you’ve got so many excellent animals to keep you company, or at least, not really. Sometimes you do wish you had someone else to share your life with, someone to talk about things with (who will actually respond) and to hold you and tell you everything’s okay when things are going bad…

Damn you want a boyfriend, one that’s the complete opposite of your last one.

“Maybe he was the best I could do…” You grumble, then slap the sides of your face, “No… no, don’t think that. If I’m meant to be in a relationship, my future love will simply teleport into my living room *I stole this from a funny tweet* . Otherwise, I will remain single. Like my dogs, kinda…” You grumbled to yourself last night before you went to bed. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that, because when you wake up that next morning in your pile of fur (2 dogs and 3 cats) and head downstairs to begin your morning feeding ritual, you’re met with the sight of 14 dudes sprawled about in your immaculate living room, getting mud on your carpet and… are those weapons?

Be careful what you wish for, I guess.

If this was meant to be a robbery attempt, then they butchered it horribly. 

You turn and go into your kitchen and put multiple kettles on the stove, intending to just make… all of the tea in your cupboard. 

When your two puppies came trotting down the stairs after you, you walk about out of the kitchen and watch them, and the moment they catch wind of the pile of men in your house they are on alert. You attempt to stop them from running over, but they are already sniffing around them and pawing at their faces curiously before you can so much as call their names. 

“Good God, why can’t I just have a normal day?” You mumble to yourself, inching over slowly when your fluffy brown and white floofer Yeti, literally, sits on a very small blond man. And then you realize, they’re all kinda small. Or short, thicc👌if you may, since they are more buff and not fat (not all of them at least). 

Your other dog, Copper, continues to sniff around (ever the paranoid pup, good boy) but eventually goes back to you instead of trying to suffocate that blond dude. 

When you’re sure they’re still out-cold, you return to the kitchen and scrounge up 14 mugs and glass cups and get the tea steeping, sighing as you search your cupboard for something to put out. Damn it if they were planning on robbing you at… ax-point, then you’re going to be so freaking hospitable and generous that they’ll regret even thinking of it (realistically you’re not worried because Yeti and Copper can definitely eat them whole).

Eventually, you find some platters leftover from a party you were invited to a few days ago (you got to keep the leftovers), so you bring them out to the coffee table near where they’re hanging out and just set it out, then return to the kitchen in shifts and bring the mugs out two or three at a time (three if you’re feeling especially daring). Pretty soon everything is out, so you then decide to take the weapons you have immediate access to and hide them.

Of course, your definition of ‘hiding them’ is putting them all on your love seat and covering it with a blanket. 

You assume they probably have more hidden in various places on their bodies and under their clothes, but you’re not gonna even consider taking those. 

Once you’re 100% done with your anti-robbery check-list, you lay down on your couch with your feet facing them and begin to read the book you left on your coffee table the night before. 

Right when you begin to wonder if any of them are even alive, some begin to groan and move around sluggishly. 

You hear a couple worried 'Bilbo?’s’ and someone say either 'kill’ or 'Kili’, so you get up and retreat to your kitchen in case they get violent. 

Someone screams muffled-ly and you assume the blond guy has awakened. 

As soon as the guy screams most of them jump to their feet and begin to look around wildly, and you duck beneath the counter and peek out from the side nervously. 

“Where is my ax!?” Someone yells with an accent. 

“What in Mahal is sitting on Bilbo?!” Another yells. 

“Master Baggins!" 

"Is that food?" 

Everything goes quiet when someone yells about the food, and then there’s some shuffling and rustling of plastic and Yeti comes trotting into the kitchen. A triumphant smirk settles on your face, and you slowly stand and see that they’re all standing and looking down at the coffee table.

"Is this for us?” The small blond man who Yeti seemed to like, asks. 

You decide now is the time for your dramatic entrance. “Yes, it’s for you.”

At the sound of your voice, they all whirl around and look at you with wide eyes, pushing the same small blond behind them as they reach for the hidden weapons you knew they had. 

You don’t say anything.

“You didn’t even search us properly!” One of the taller brown-haired ones exclaims, oh he’s kinda cute, with a smug smirk on his face. 

Okay, wow that’s insulting. He’s definitely insinuating that you’re dumb, definitely. “Excuse me, I know very well that you had stuff in your clothes, but I didn’t much like the idea of invading your personal space." 

Now you get confused looks and no response. 

"Besides, I took all your big weapons and I know that they must’ve meant something to you. I’ll hold them hostage if you try to rob me." 

More confused looks, then a raven-haired guy, the one who pushed the blond behind them, speaks up, "Where are our weapons?" 

You resist the urge to look over at the horribly hidden pile of swords, daggers, single bow, and axes under the blanket on your love seat and state, "I’ve hidden them somewhere you’ll never find them!” You yell, “You can tear this house apart brick by brick and you’ll still never find them! I’ve put them somewhere so-”

“It’s under that blanket, isn’t it?” A blond guy with a braided mustache asks. 

You take a pause and look over to exactly where he’s talking about. 

It’s completely silent for about 30 seconds until you realize you should probably deny it.

“…No."  

Yeah, there’s literally the hilt of a blade and the bow sticking out from under it. 

Some of them seem more amused than alert now, and you realize you’ve succeeded in making them see you as not a threat. 

You clear your throat awkwardly, and look away from the blanket, "L-Lets not read too much into that. What’s really important here is that you are literally the worst robbers I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.” You glare at the lot of them before a big smile suddenly spreads across your face, “Oh! I got you snacks by the way, and my name is Y/N.”

A couple of them exchange weird looks, probably because you’re totally psyching them out, and you can tell they’re beginning to question your sanity. And that’s where they go wrong, because once they know your name and grow attached, then there’s no way they’ll be able to hurt or rob you. 

The raven-haired dude, he seems to be the leader of this operation, steps forward, “We are no robbers.” Is all he says as if that clears everything up. 

“Um, then why are you in the middle of my house? Seems pretty robber-y from where I’m standing." 

He purses his lips and looks at you intensely as if he’s trying to stare you into submission, but you will not be intimidated.

"No excuse, then?” You ask.

He sighs quietly when he realizes, ultimately, that you’ve got a point. “Truthfully, I have no memory of how we got to be here.” The half-man pauses to collect his thoughts, then continues, “I don’t know where we are, nor do any of us. This place is foreign and everything is odd… and new." 

You tap your foot a couple of times and cross your arms over your chest, not really believing it but also not-not believing it since they are rather peculiar. 

"If you’re not robbers then tell me something only a not robber would say!” Getting them to underestimate you is key. 

You get more weird looks and some of them actually laugh, bingo, before the same guy speaks again, “We… we’re not going to rob you?" 

For a few moments, you pretend to deliberate over what he said, then nod, "Well damn, why didn’t you say so before?” Some tense shoulders relax, then you continue, “Anywaaayyys, I made tea and that blond fellow in the back looks kinda skinny so help yourselves to the platters I’ve set out. Oh, yes, also I hope none of you are afraid of dogs, cats, snakes, turtles, or small rodents because they’re literally everywhere." 

"Are you not being too hasty in accepting us into your home?” The black-haired dude asks slowly, looking around at the rest of the people around him. 

Yes, he has a point you know, but there’s something that tugs at your heartstrings when you look at this disheveled group of short men. Their eyes are sunken and tired with bags big enough to cost you extra on a flight, they are dirty and some of them a bit bloody, they look so hungry, and there’s just a horrible exhausted and negative haze settled over the lot of them. They just look so damn pathetic and sad, and god that small blond and the brown-haired pretty guy look like sad little puppies- 

It then occurs to you that they are, essentially, strays, and that thought softens your hard outer-shell. 

You have to help them.

You let a smaller smile upturn the corners of your lips as you say a bit quieter and more serious, “Maybe I am. I don’t know who you are or if you’re telling me the truth, but even I can see that something isn’t right here. You all look tired and hungry, a-and if I turn you away knowing something’s wrong, what kind of person does that make me?”

You’ve done it plenty of times with dogs and feral cats before, and they can be just as dangerous. 

It seems that they’re all listening to what you have to say, so you go on, “I have the means to help and Yeti has taken to your blond man-child,” you gesture to your fluffy boy who is pawing at said guy in search of head pats, “And… something in my heart is telling me that I shouldn’t send you away.” You tap your fingers against your elbow a couple times, then say softly, “Please don’t make me regret it…" 

There are a few moments of silence before the person you were talking to responds again, "We will try to cause no trouble for you." 

You nod your head and turn to go back into the kitchen, whistling for Yeti and Copper to come follow you. "I’m going to be out for 10 minutes, don’t cause trouble.” Leaving them by themselves is the ultimate test of how trustworthy they are, and you’ll only be just outside feeding the animals so you can hear everything. 

“We won’t." 

You’ll have to see. 

Baby Tal'ika: cuddles with Fox

☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

Let’s do this

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

The Jedi had, in fact, pulled away from Coruscant, and taken basically the entire GAR with them. Fox was pretty sure no one had expected that from them. He certainly hadn’t. The idea of the Jedi not being on Coruscant felt practically sacrilegious. But, here they were, on an uninhabited planet in the Inner Rim, building their own temple around a Force Nexus point, whatever that meant. Alderaan and Naboo had gone above and beyond to lend a hand to the Jedi, but everyone had been actually shocked at how self sufficient the Jedi actually were with their Service Corps. The AgriCorps alone were beasts, literally building the temple out of forcing literal trees and plants to grow in some strange way to form proper insulation and structure.

The temple finally had its living quarters, including the creche, built. For the past several months, Fox had been enjoying Tal’ika living in his hastily constructed home. Obi-Wan had been preoccupied with darting around the galaxy putting out fires, and while Fox, as a Commander, could have definitely been useful out there... He had a few months with Tal’ika in comparison to years spent with other people raising them.

Mace had assured him that he would still see them, and see them a lot. Jedi were partially rearranging their protocols regarding family separation, mainly because now that they were far removed from politics, there was a little more leeway in worries about outside influences. Jedi Initiates in the creche could have familial contact, instead of working up to contact once they were padawans. And, well, Fox was going to be working with the Jedi. A lot. Probably more than he should, but he was a workaholic, and it was probably a problem, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

In any case, tomorrow they would start moving the little ones into the creche, and Fox was going to have his hands full getting all of the cadets and babies from Kamino settled in the ‘barracks’, because they were going to start getting shipped in in the next week. The logistics was going to be a nightmare. And Tal’ika was going to be gone, off in the creche with the other Jedi babies, and he was no longer going to be waking up with a warm weight in his bed that should be in their own damned bed. He wasn’t going to be making breakfast for two, wasn’t going to be helping them with their education modules, wasn’t going to be coordinating childcare with the crechemasters and other clones that had volunteered to help keep the Initiates in line until they could keep them all contained. He wasn’t going to be hounding them to make sure they brushed their teeth, or struggling over the braids he had learned to make, or having running conversations in a mix-up of Basic and Mando’a with a kid who still couldn’t reach the floor with their socked feet when they sat at the kitchen table. He wasn’t going to be carting them off to work, wasn’t going to be wrangling them to eat their vegetables, wasn’t going to be blatantly ignoring their abuse of the Force because it was the Jedi’s job to get after them for having fun, not him.

Tal’ika probably wouldn’t be moved in until the end of the week, but it was still hurting. The loss. He had really gotten attached, but he also had to be incredibly honest with himself. The constant stream of the chip being activated in his brain had fucked him up on several levels. He was trying his best. He really was. But memories of what he had been forced to forget were slowly and steadily filtering back in, and he wasn’t handling it well. He was keeping it together as best as he could, for Tal’ika, because he only had a few months with them before they went to people that didn’t need to see a mind healer on a daily basis for the foreseeable future, but Fox was also well aware that he was in no position to raise a child. He still had nightmares of control being ripped away, watching his body murder his own child with no way to stop it. An unwilling spectator to hell. A failure of a father.

No, he needed to work this shit out away from Tal’ika, because his kid was a goddamn empath and could tell sometimes he was terrified of them, and that just wasn’t healthy for them. Or him. He wanted to be selfish and raise them on his own, away from the Jedi and a life of monastic servitude, but they wanted it. They craved being a Jedi like a Quarren craved the sea. He couldn’t just make the decision for them, and he had to admit that the structure of being a Jedi was probably for the best for a child that had been genetically engineered to be slightly unhinged.

He wasn’t enough for them, and it kind of stung. Not enough a sting to not be happy that he was giving them the best possible chance in life while still getting to be their buir, but it stung. Obi-Wan was going to be getting back from mop-up operations on Toydaria tomorrow, and they were going to be spending time together with Cody, and Fox’s time alone with Tal’ika was coming to an end. Tal’ika, the perceptive little thing that they were, knew he was getting worked up. He’d cooked their favorite meal, a flatbread kind of dish piled high with trash like cheese and cured meats and sauce, and bullied them to go take a damned shower, because they had taken a tumble off a hill today and were utterly drenched in dirt and leaves, and a change of clothes had done the bare minimum to spare his little house. He was going to have to clean. Now, while they were washing off in the fresher, he was alone with his spiraling thoughts and dishes, up to his elbows in the water as he scrubbed the excess that had built up over the day.

Soft feet padded down the hallway, and he scowled at the bit of lunch that was stuck on the pot, refusing to budge under his scrubbing. Tiny hands wrapped around his waist, and Fox froze as a little head thunked right in the middle of his back, wet hair pressing into his shirt as Tal’ika ground their face into his back.

“What’s up?” He asked, and their arms tightened around him.

“You’re upset,” they mumbled, and Fox swallowed.

“You’d be pretty upset if you were scrubbing this pot.”

“Then let it soak,” they grumbled, and he dried his hands, peeled his arms off from around his waist as he turned around. Undettered, they smacked their face right into his gut and clung to his stomach.

Ah. It wasn’t the empathy. They were upset, too.

With a sigh, he bent down to pick them up and carry them into the living room, flopping down on the couch and nabbing the blanket thrown over the arm. Without another word, they curled up in his lap, and he lifted and maneuvered them around so he could wrap them in the blanket.

“Did you brush your hair?” He asked, already knowing the answer, because the brush was sitting on the end table where he left it last night.

“No,” they mumbled, sounding utterly miserable, and he shifted them around so they were between his thighs. The brush was gathered up, and he started to work through their damp hair.

“You know you’ll still see a lot of me,” he reminded them, and they let out a huff of air.

“I know.” They didn’t sound convinced.

“You won’t be able to get rid of me,” he promised, though that wasn’t strictly true. They would be able to get rid of him, very easily, because as soon as everyone got everything functioning, he’d be fulfilling his duties as Minister of Education, which meant that he was going to be busy. Extremely busy. At least he wasn’t going to be Senator. They had offered him the position and he had looked Cody dead in the eyes and informed him if they let him into the Senate chamber without the threat of decommissioning looming over his head, there were at least fifty Senators that weren’t going to be making it out alive.

Rizz was going to be Senator. Fox thought they were the superior choice, personally. The Senate wasn’t going to know what hit them. One look of disappointment from Rizz would leave a shiny in tears, so it was probably going to be very effective in the Senate.

But.... Even so.

Tal’ika was glaring at the wall, which was basically just their way of showing that they were sad, and he sighed, leaning forward to press his forehead to the back of their head.

“We agreed on this, remember?” He murmured, his hands stilling, and Tal’ika tugged the blanket a little tighter around their shoulders.

“I know,” they muttered, but they didn’t sound happy about it. Was this what it felt like to send off your kid to boarding school?

“C’mere,” he said, deeming their hair appropriately brushed, and shifted them around so they were sitting more firmly against him. Tal’ika curled into his warmth, huffy and upset, and he leaned over to flick on their favorite holofilm.

“I think we can ignore your bedtime tonight. Obi-Wan isn’t here to get mad, is he?” He murmured, and Tal’ika snorted before wriggling around so they could watch the irritating holofilm he had memorized at this point. 

“Obi-Wan doesn’t get mad. He gets disappointed,” they mumbled, and he snorted as he wrapped them up tight with as much love as he could put into his embrace.

“That he does,” he agreed smoothly. “That he does.”

Tal’ika’s attention flicked back to the holofilm, and Fox resigned himself to dramatic collapses on fainting couches and high end Core accents and ridiculous hairdos and pointless gestures to offset the jewelry dripping from their fingers from actresses having the time of their lives being as dramatic as they could. Why they loved these weird glam murder mysteries was beyond him, but at least it wasn’t a musical.

Tal’ika mouthed along to the lines they had memorized, and slowly and steadily, they started to relax in his grip. By the time they got to the torrid and helpless kiss in the rain that Fox knew for a fact was ruining the fur stole and silks the titular actress was wrapped in, they were a useless lump in his lap, and his mind was drifting back to the dishes abandoned in the sink. He still needed to finish them, but...

Something wet and slimy hit his neck, and his eyes locked on the wall as he realized they were definitely asleep and definitely drooling on him.

Well. Maybe a little longer. He knew as well as any clone that if he blinked, they’d be too big to do this again.

Just a little longer.

Historical Ancient Norse Clothing vs. Pop Culture

I have a bone to pick with movie and TV costuming of vikings. It seems like pop culture has it own surprisingly consistent (but very wrong) idea of history. As someone who is really into historical clothing and also into Ancient Norse, it brings me physical agony. I’m going to explain with examples. I’ll use three recent shows, Vikings, Norsemen and Last Kingdom. Now keep in mind that I have only watched bit of Norsemen and I actually really liked it, so this has nothing to do with the overall quality of the shows, only the costuming. I picked these shows because they all seem to present themselves very “realistic”, which is why I leave movies like How To Train Your Dragon be, because clearly they are not attempting realism or historical accuracy.

Also, I’m not a historian, and even if I were, there is no way to know what people at that time were actually wearing. There is archaeological evidence and a little historical evidence too, but for some things even historians just have to give their best guess. I’ve done casual and no way academic research for my own projects. If you want to read more yourself, my best resource is Viking Answer Lady. The articles go very into detail and have a lot of historical and archaeological sources.

Okay let’s go. This is going to be long.

Gripe One: “We want to make our show seem gritty and realistic, so clearly we should make our vikings dirty and wear only back and muted colors so they look edgy”

Yes, those pesky vikings, who had bad personal hygiene, wore ripped clothing and hated colors with passion. They were, after all, Menly Men (in 21th century standards). Okay, jokes aside, maybe from my sarcastic tone you can tell that indeed Norse people had very high standards for personal hygiene. According to contemporary records, they washed their faces every morning and bathed regularly in their warmed bath houses. Every man and woman had a comb with them all the time and men also combed their beards and mustaches. Sewing was also a standard skill (especially for women but probably also for men) and people generally in most periods and places before industrialization, including Ancient Scandinavia, were very skilled at it. The wool they used was very high quality and tightly woven into sleek fabric. They also used linen and if they were rich they might have worn silk.

The picture is from The Last Kingdom. The person in the middle is a son of an earl (a local chieftain, so pretty important nobility). Nobles could afford high quality wool, dyes, embroidery and good armor (not yet, but we’ll talk about it soon), and of course nobility wore those things to distinguish themselves from other classes. Norse people wore actually quite a lot of colors, and very bright colors too, especially the richer ones. Probably only slaves didn’t have their fabrics dyed.

And another note about Norse people’s concept of masculinity. Their concept of manly man for example was a very talkative, social and funny guy, who was a good leader, laughed easily and had many friends, brooding dudes were not the ideal. Being fashionable and presentable was also very important for men. They trimmed their beards and mustaches to be neat. Some carvings have men with very dapper mustaches and goatees. Noble men had long hair. Though they would braid them somehow for battle.

The other two shows have same problems. This is from The Vikings and the guy in the middle is a son of a king* and he wears literal rags.

*Apparently Ragnar in the show is farmer rather than royal lineage like in sagas, but farmers dressed well too, though not as well as kings.

More dirty clothes without colors in Norsemen.

Gripe Two: Okay let’s talk about armor

Armor is certainly not only problem in historical shows about vikings, but in most historical shows and movies, period. Let’s start with what people really wore into battle back then. It would of course depend on their wealth and social standing so let’s start with the absolute minimum.

First they wore underclothing, usually linen tunics. Over that wool tunics. Linen is very easy to wash so it gathers all the sweat and the wool is preserved in better condition. Over that they would wear padded armor. It was armor made from cloth and padded thick with usually horse hair. It was actually very good armor and shielded well from cuts, though not so well from stabs.

Helmet and a hood under it was a must. Battle without helmet would have been a death sentence and helmet without hood did very little to actually shield head. The hood would also shield neck which was just as important. Also leather gloves. It would be hard to hold your weapon and defend yourself, if you’d get hit on fingers.

This would have probably been a basic armor for a peasant. Warrior class and nobility would have better armor though. Padded armor was used combined with other armor. Plate armor was not really a thing back then, but chain mail was probably the most used one. It was expensive to make so peasants couldn’t afford it, but it great against stabs and slashes, and on top of that was flexible and didn’t restrict movement. You couldn’t use it without enough padding under, just try to think about the iron rings sinking into your flesh... A chain mail hood also might have been used over the softer hood.

Other options for chain mail were lamellar, an armor stitched from small plates of metal, and leather armor. Lamellar gave great protection, but since it was a bit restrictive, it was probably only used as breast plate, so if a warrior was rich enough to get that, they would also get a chain mail under it. Leather armor was not very good alone, but combined with other types of armor it gave some extra protection. A really thick leather with fur (for example reindeer fur) would have been used like padded armor. Leather was probably made in the form of a tunic. Basically it would been only used alone if it was really thick or had fur too. Lastly they would have used a cloak or a coat depending on weather. 

Now, after seeing the couple of shots from the shows, you may start to see a problem.

I tend to forgive movies and shows the lack of helmets, since it makes it harder to know who is who and what is happening in a battle scene, which after all, is much more important for a story than historical accuracy. However, they have literally no excuse for the lady warrior to have ONLY a leather top (????) on. Norsemen is comedy, rather than historical drama, but the aesthetic is realistic, so I’m not going to let them of the hook. (And may I point out the dude behind the lady warrior? Is... is that supposed to be a chain mail? I’m confused.)

My dude, your hands will get chopped off... Please don’t wear a leather top or a t-shirt into a battle. Unarmored arms would really get lost. If you got a deep cut into your arm in that period, you had a really high change of loosing that arm.

This is from Vikings and I wanted to include it as a slightly positive example. He is wearing leather armor (which looks weird but let’s ignore that) over chain mail, so it’s actually very good protection!

Gripe Three: Women’s clothing is all over the place

I have yet to see a remotely accurate Ancient Norse women’ clothing on screen.

Most of these from Norsemen look like 12th or 13th century dresses, the way how they are very fitting on hands and upper body. Most bizarre is the girl on gray clothing on the background. What is it? Why it looks like weirdly ripped and like it’s sewn by someone who’s never before touched a needle?

Then Vikings. Let’s ignore the guy in the picture (he is a king but wears no colors and some weird looking leather armor, moving on). Both of these ladies are queens and they should have bright colors (also hair up, only unmarried young women and children wore hair down). The lady on the right has a little better outfit. The cloak looks actually really good, though not sure about the texture. The dress however is pretty bad. The lady on the left is just wrong. The neckline would have never been this low. Why is it brown? And what is that belt thing? Norse people used a lot of layers, and it was also kind of a status symbol to have a lot of layers of bright clothes. Let’s hope she has a very well hidden under-layer for her hygiene. And lastly the jewelry looks more from 16th century or something for both of them. Viking ladies used a lot of jewelry, and queens would have had very showy jewelry. Let’s look at a lot more historically accurate clothing.

This would have been something a noble lady could wear. They wore of course under-layer, then a dress long tunic over that, over that, a usually slightly shorter dress with shoulder straps and then a narrow apron which was attached into the shoulder straps with showy fasteners and between them was usually hanging some jewelry. The outfit might have had a long twined belt around the whole thing too. And as in the picture, a lot of embroidery for the rich people.

I know they think edgy black clothing is inherently cooler, but...

Really I think the accurate clothing is really cool and badass. Like let me show you some pictures of reenactors to prove it.

Bonus Non-Gripe

Also lastly I just want to say, this outfit from Vikings slaps. It’s gorgeous, it makes little sense, but I love it. Let’s pretend he has padded armor under the tunic, okay.

Corruption of Innocence (1/?)

Prompt: The Capital was cruel. The people there even more so. If this arrangement truly was meant to follow through, Jaime knew you would be corrupted by Kings Landing. But staring at you now, with bright doe eyes and a soft smile on your lips as you engaged in a conversation with your brother, hushed so as not to be disrespectful, Jaime knew he would put all his focus and strength into making sure that never happened.

A/N: HERE IT IS!! THE FIRST PART OF MY GOT (sorta) REWRITE! PLEASE let me know what you thought, if you’d like another part and if you’d like to be tagged for future parts. I really have a lot planned for this series, but I won’t be encouraged to write if no one gives any feedback. This part also had very little Jaime/Y/N interaction, but you know me and my series ;) I like to develop relationships between the reader and someone else, other than just who she’s paired with!

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Pairing: Jaime x Stark!Reader

Based off of: Game of Thrones 01x01

Your reflection stares back at you, the frown on your lips evident. Your eyes trace the linings of your face, the intricate braids upon your head that cascade downwards into long H/C waves. The dark brown of your dressed line with small designs crafted by someone with a careful hand. It’s tight around your chest, cinched at the waist before it puffs out and flows around your legs.

You hate the reflection that stares back at you. The future that awaits you. 

The news of the King’s visit to Winterfell traveled fast, and instantly, preparations began. Food, drinks and rooms were prepared for your guests while you and all your other siblings were dolled up in appearances for the royal family. Jon Arryn had died, you’d heard, and now King Robert was travelling to Winterfell, where your father was warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell.

It could only truly mean one thing. He wished for father to become his hand.

But the letter that had arrived from Kings Landing at hinted to more than just that. There was the proposed idea of the King’s son, Joffrey, marrying your younger sister, Sansa, to conjoin both house Stark and Baratheon. She’d been told of the news, or at least hinted towards it, and the smile on her face had been contagious. Every girl her age, some even older or younger, wanted to gain the attention of the Prince and you knew it made Sansa feel special that she might be that girl.

However, a marriage proposed for you had also been suggested. More demanded than suggested like Sansa’s and your heart had nearly plummeted to the pit of your stomach when you heard of who you were meant to be wedded off to. Jaime Lannister, the Queen’s twin brother, who was also nicknamed Kingslayer. Maybe it was his nickname, maybe it was the clear distaste in your father’s voice as he said his name, or maybe it was simply the fact that the man was much older than you were that made you dread your future with the man. You were only seventeen and the idea of marrying a man nearly double your age both confused and frightened you.

But when it came to the King, you didn’t have much of a choice.

You weren’t excited for the King’s arrival like your younger siblings. Instead, you dreaded it. That’s why you were hid in your room, simply staring back at your own reflection, lost in your thoughts.

A small nudge to your thigh pulls you from your thoughts however. Your gaze lowers, chin tucking in as your eyes fall on that of your dire-wolf, Antheia. A faint smile falls on your lips as your hand rises, gently falling on top of her fury head, scratching the dark brown and white fur. You remember when Robb, Bran, Jon and father had arrived home with seven pups. Six for each of the Stark children and a pure white one just for Jon.

When Robb had delivered your pup to you, he’d said he’d specifically chosen it for you. You’d scoffed at his words, rolling your eyes at your twin brother but he’d professed the story to be true, going on and on about how he knew that that dire-wolf was just the one for you. Eventually, you’d gone along with it. Because who knew, maybe it was true.

You’d instantly grown attached to the little pup, and even now, just a little while later, she was much larger then she’d been when you first got her. She was fiercely loyal to you, and you loved the way she followed you around everywhere. A constant friend by your side.

With a whine, Antheia turns to your door, causing your brows to furrow. She paws at the door gently while you watch on in confusion, until you hear the faintest sound of footsteps and a knock resounds on your door. You smile slightly at her keen senses, pushing yourself up to your feet. “Come in,” you call, making your way towards the door.

You expect it to be mother, probably to chastise you on hiding in your room and leaving it to the last second to arrive outside. But, as the door opens, it isn’t your mothers face that you see staring back at you, and rather Robb’s as he pokes his head in, a grin on his lips.

You roll your eyes at him; “mother tell you to come find me, didn’t she?”

“Of course she did,” Robb laughs, stepping into your room. “You really decided to push it to the last second, haven’t you?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you glance back at your vanity before grabbing your cloak off of the chair. As you wrap it around your shoulders, tying it off at the neck, you continue to speak. “She’s stressed,” you sigh, “and when she’s stressed, she places all responsibility on my shoulders. Can you blame me for hiding from her?”

Robb steps back, letting you walk past him out your bedroom, Antheia following closely behind, before falling in line next to you. “No,” he says earnestly, nodding your way. “Because father does the same with me.”

“It sucks being the oldest.”

“Can’t disagree with you on that one.”

The two of you share a laugh, falling in step with one another as you make your way through the halls of your home and outdoors to the courtyard. Along the way, your eyes fully catch sight of Robb’s appearance and you let a small smirk fall on your lips. “I see mother made sure you looked all prim and proper for the Queen.”

“All of us,” Robb shrugs, scratching at his cheek absentmindedly. “Jon wasn’t too happy to have his hair messed with.”

You let out a giggle, rolling your eyes. “He’s more picky with his hair than I am.”

Just as you finish speaking, the two of you reach the courtyard. Instantly, and before Robb can reply, you’re both hurdled forward by your mother. She sends you a narrowed look along the way and you smile faintly, eyes pleading in apology. As Robb falls to his spot next to father, mother only shakes her head at you, her grip softening to a comforting touch before ushering you forward. Without fault, you fall in your spot next to Robb, beside Sansa.

“Where’s Arya?”

Turning your gaze from the gates, you turn towards your mother, catching the worried look in her eyes. It’s then you notice the absence of Arya on the other side of Sansa.

“Sansa,” mother calls, voice sharp. “Where’s your sister?”

She simply shrugs in response.

Just then, little Arya comes running by. Before she can make it to her spot, she’s stopped by father, pulling her back in front of him. “Hey, hey, hey, hey,” he calls, “what are you doing with that on?” You smile softly at the sight of her little head swarmed by the large helmet on top of it, one of which father hastily pulls off, shaking his head at his youngest daughter. “Go on.”

She groans in response, eyes narrowed, but as she catches your gaze, you send her a small wink. It immediately causes a grin to fall on her lips, skipping over to her spot.

And just like that, the first horse rides through the gates. The first few guards are soon followed by Joffrey, the King’s son, who lets his eyes wander across the people before landing on your sisters. You bite your lip at the sight of her cheeks warming and her small, but rather giddy smile that instantly erupts upon her face. When you turn back to Robb, he seems just as displeased, if not more so.

A carriage arrives soon after, followed by the King himself. You barely pay mind to the King, your eyes too focused on finding your soon to be husband. You know very little about him, except of his golden locks and looks that you’ve heard plenty of girls, including your own handmaidens, rave on about.

You have to bow before you can get a very good look, the King slowing to a stop on his horse before crawling off of it’s back with the help of his servants. When the King finally falls to a stop in front of your father, three twitches of his fingers signals you all to arise, and following your father’s lead, you easily do so.

“Your Grace,” father greets, bowing his head.

There’s a moment of stilled silence as the King lets his eyes wander across your father’s figure as he pleases, before resettling on his gaze. Bluntly, he states; “you’ve got fat.” And it takes you by surprise, blinking as you have to desperately fight back a laugh. It wouldn’t do well to laugh.

With a twitch of his brows and slight tilt downwards, your father raises a brow. To which the both of them let out a loud laugh, embracing one another. When the King pulls back, he turns to your mother with a bright grin, move to hug her as well. “Cat!” He exclaims, to which your mother greets him respectively in return. 

He ruffles Rickon’s hair before turning back to Ned. “Nine years,” he sighs, “why haven’t I seen you? Where the hell have you been?”

“Guarding the North for you, your Grace. Winterfell is yours.”

You frown as your attention is caught by the Queen, stepping out of her carriage and her narrowed, wandering eyes judge your home. Instantly, you feel distaste flood you at the sight of her.

“Who have we here?” Blinking, you turn to find the King stood in front of your brother. “You must be Robb.”

With eagerness to impress both the King and his father, Robb takes the King’s hand in his own, shaking it firmly. An instant flood of nerves floods you when the King’s eyes land on you. You’re not sure what you’d expected him to say or do, but silence certainly hadn’t been it. The moment the King’s eyes land on your own, he all but freezes, eyes stuck on the figure of you.

You shuffle slightly, uncomfortable under the mans heavy gaze as you glance over at Robb nervously. He seems just as confused.

“She takes after her aunt,” your father speaks up, pulling your eyes on him as he keeps his gaze on that of the King, nodding. “In both looks and spirit.”

“Aye,” the King mumbles, voice soft as his eyes trail across your own. “You certainly do.”

He’s moving on to your sister before you can say anything in return. You find yourself stunned with silence, blinking. Your fathers comment and the King’s reaction takes you by surprise and an uncomfortable feeling swallows you completely.

-

Jaime sees you before you do.

Unlike you, he’d been told of your appearance. He’d been told what to look out for after he’d practically demanded it. He had no idea why he was marrying a girl your age, nearly half his age, nor did he know why he’d been stripped of his title as part of the Kings-guard.

In the end, he hadn’t had much choice or say. The King was still the King, and no matter how much Jaime may despise it, it was out of his control.

You weren’t hard to spot. At least, not at as hard as he assumed he’d must of been. As soon as he’d rode in through the gates of Winterfell, he’d spotted you from afar, your neck stretched out desperately as your eyes wandered across the crowd. With his large golden helmet, it’s no wonder you couldn’t find him. And for a moment, he simply sat there, atop his horse, letting his eyes wander across your figure.

You were young. Even if Jaime had already known you were the young age of seventeen, to see it stare him back in the face was completely different. Your eyes were innocent, untouched by the evils of the world. Jaime felt no love in his bone as he stared at you, but he couldn’t deny this odd sense of protection that flooded him. It confused him greatly at first, baffled by the feeling, until he saw Robert approach you.

With a look you no doubt did not understand, but Jaime did, Robert had all but let his eyes wander across you openly and appreciatively. It was true, you did look startlingly like your aunt, even more so then you did your own mother. And it was that realization and thought that filled Jaime with dread, Robert’s reaction only adding fuel to the fire.

The Capital was cruel. The people there even more so. If this arrangement truly was meant to follow through, Jaime knew you would be corrupted by Kings Landing. But staring at you now, with bright doe eyes and a soft smile on your lips as you engaged in a conversation with your brother, hushed so as not to be disrespectful, Jaime knew he would put all his focus and strength into making sure that never happened.

He would never let anything corrupt or hurt you.

That thought is only enforced when your eyes finally do manage to meet Jaime’s. You hadn’t been looking for him that time, desperate to avoid the harsh glare of his sister and upon the way, you’d found him. You instantly knew it was him by the brief description of him you’d been given. That, and the fact that Jaime had already been staring back at you.

You almost looked fearful, Jaime realized. So young that you didn’t, or rather couldn’t, truly understand the implications of what was being forced upon your shoulders. You were brave and feisty he could tell, by the way you didn’t back down. But there was still that part of you that shuffled closer to your brother, hiding behind him in just the slightest.

Jaime’s emotions were mixed, confused. He’d never felt anything of the like towards anyone else but his sister. This protective side of him could also be passed onto his family, because he would always place them first and above all others. But this... this was different.

Before he could dwell on it much longer, his sister appeared by his side.

-

“I missed you at the feast.”

“Yes, well, you know your mother.”

Biting your lip, you sigh at Jon’s words. Pushing yourself up off the wall, you collect the ends of your skirts, carefully making your way over to him. “Mother’s wrong,” you mumble, meeting your brother’s gaze steadily. “She’s always been when it comes to you.”

Jon simply frowns down at you, his shoulders falling at your words. And you stare back, hugging yourself for comfort. You’ve never understood your mother and her hatred for Jon. Part of you understood it, but at the same time, the more rational side of you, couldn’t fathom how she could hate a motherless son. Treat him like truly was no more than a Bastard.

“I heard that you are to be wed to Jaime Lannister.”

Your frown deepens at Jon’s words, gaze lowering. “That is the plan, yes.”

“I’m sure it will be okay, Y/N,” Jon whispers, in attempt to comfort you, you’re sure. But all it does is fill you with more dread. You’d hoped, during the feast the night before, you’d be able to speak with Jaime. Get to know him a little, but he’d seemed preoccupied the entire night. And when a chance had opened, he’d approached your father. A conversation, which, seemed none too pleasant.

You knew it was your duty, but the idea of marrying a man you did not know and had never spoken to... well, you just couldn’t imagine it. You wanted to marry for love and... “I don’t want to leave here,” you sigh, finally meeting Jon’s eyes. “I don’t want to leave Bran or Rickon. Robb... I don’t want to leave you. If I could stay, I would...”

A look washes over Jon’s eyes, one that causes you to forget your own troubles for a moment as you frown up at him.

“Y/N,” Jon calls, his voice hesitant. “I haven’t told anyone, but I plan to leave for the wall with Uncle Benjen.”

You blink, surprise flooding you. “Oh...”

Jon nods, scratching the back of his head. “I--”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Jon,” you interrupt softly, smiling encouragingly up at him. “I understand. You know I do.”

With a small, weak smile, Jon nods.

“I guess we are both planning to leave then,” you add afterwards, a soft chuckle leaving your lips. “Giving up our names to a vow.”

“I’m not all that upset to forget the name, Snow.”

“You’re a Stark,” you correct softly, meeting your brothers eyes knowingly. “You know you are. You’ll always be a Stark to me.”

Once again silence falls over the two of you as Jon smiles sadly down at you. Stepping forward, his hand falls on your shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze before pressing a kiss against your forehead. Your eyes fall shut at the action, before he pulls back and you watch him walk off.

Left to yourself, you turn, staring out at the courtyard. Nothing will ever be the same again.

-

Another part?

Let me know what you thought!

Also, this is inspiration from @reader-imagines‘s story, Vow. It’s pretty amazing and hundred percent how I came up with the idea of doing this story! So check it out.

Mond Twins Profile (TWST)

((Okay, my original plan was that I was just going to stew on their backstory until we learned more about Twisted Wonderland’s world and lore, but after looking through old Disney movies, I was struck with inspiration and decided to create their backstories from that inspiration.

Last Edited: 5-15-2020, added TWST-profile information))

BASIC INFO

FULL NAME(S): Thomas Mond / Katherine Mond

GENDER: male / female

AGE: 18

BIRTHDAY: November 21

STARSIGN: Scorpio

HEIGHT: 188cm / 173cm

EYE COLOR: green

HAIR COLOR: burnt orange

HOMELAND: Kingdom of Prophecy (original), Land of Pyroxene (lie/fabricated backstory)

DORM: Ignihyde / Chateau Beastiale

SCHOOL YEAR: 3rd

CLASS: 3-C (13) / 3-B (17)

OCCUPATION: student, freelance entrepreneurs

CLUB: board game / gardening research

BEST SUBJECT: ancient incantations / obstacle run

DOMINANT HAND: right

FAVORITE FOOD: chestnuts (chicken curry=favorite dish)

LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: caviar / strong cheeses

DISLIKES: dancing / big dogs

HOBBY: flute playing / shopping

TALENTS: herbology / playing the electone

APPEARANCE

picture by AmberAnimeCommission

Thomas is a young lad of standard build and a lean, strong body. He has long, dark orange hair normally kept in a loose braid. He has narrow, but kind eyes that are a deep green color. He wears glasses due to farsightedness.

Katherine is a young lady of standard build with an hourglass shape. She has long, dark orange hair normally kept in a loose braid. She has gentle, but mature eyes in a shade of vibrant green. She wears glasses due to nearsightedness.

The Tale of Red Fur 

((This is the twins’ backstory in “story” form. It’s inspired by the mystique, “hinting at original Disney lore” way Twisted Wonderland references old Disney characters and aspects.))

Several hundred years ago, a glorious kingdom stood strong under its reigning king. On a cold autumn morning, a harsh winter threatened to swarm through the land in due time, the king's young grandson watched in horror as a hawk descended upon an innocent squirrel. The young boy tried so hard in vain to strike the bird down with his bow and arrow, and watched as the hunter disappeared into the forest with his prey. Downcast at being unable to save the small creature's life, the prince withdrew his attack, and began heading back to the castle until the sounded of distressed chirping rang through his ears. Tracking the source of the noise, he came upon a nest of two squirrel kits, their fur matching the shade of the victim he'd seen earlier. For awhile he waited in hiding for the mother's return, and when she did not and the cries grew louder, he resigned that the poor kits were truly orphaned.

The prince retrieved the kits from their nest, their concerned, confused cries deafening his ears before they fell silent with exhaustion, soothed to sleep by the warmth of his palms. He returned to the castle with his furry boon, asking for the king's guidance in how to care for the creatures. Seeing the kits' warm shade of red fur, a fond memory befell the king. A memory of his youth, one full of exhilaration...and the slightest pang of guilt. The king smiled at his grandson, assuring the young boy they would do everything to help the kits survive the winter.

The kits were doted upon by the king and prince, and grew strong with their love and care. As the winter grew colder, the king fell with an illness from the frigid weather. His grandson and the growing kits warmed his heart during this difficult time, but he was unable to overcome the ailment. The king's body vanished when his last breath came to pass.

The kingdom mourned, but his son's coronation soon followed. The grandson continued to mourn, and when the snow began to melt and the time for the kits to return to the wild came, the prince was unable to let them leave as he feared the same fate that had befallen their mother would await them. His parents, though proud of their son's empathy, bade him to not spoil the creatures, wishing for them to return to nature. With his son unwilling to yield, the new king wished a favor from an old acquaintance from his father, a grand, elderly wizard. In the dark of night, the wizard and grown kits disappeared from the kingdom. The prince was distraught, but came to accept that the squirrels had returned to the wild.

The wizard wasn't seen again for hundreds of years, and the memory of the young squirrels he helped raise faded from the prince with time. As an adult, he told his own children the legends that had befallen the land, from the brilliant victories of his grandfather to the superstition that if a child misbehaved and wandered too far into the land's forests, they would be lured to the cottage of a cruel, purple-haired witch by a pair of redheaded twins she was rumored to have kidnapped and tutored in the ways of dark magic. The superstition was a frightening story as he told it, knowing of all the disappearances that had befallen several children in the years prior, though he wasn't sure if he believed the tale himself. As time passed, fewer and fewer children vanished from the kingdom, and the superstition became just another frightening tale to trick children into behaving. Many people claimed to have still sighted the purple witch, however the twins were heavily believed to have resulted from a storyteller's enthusiasm.

The Twins 

((This is is the twins’ story verbatim. Realizing the fanciful “tale” above came from wanting to relate to Twisted Wonderland’s way of telling the universe’s history, I decided being straightforward about their backstory would clear up a lot of confusion about them going forward.))

Thomas and Katherine were born as squirrels in medieval England. When their mother was killed by a hawk (their father suffering a similar fate before), they were saved as kits by an elderly King Arthur and his grandson nurturing them through the winter. Arthur fell to illness from the harsh weather in his old age and passed away. When his son took the crown, the grandson did not want to release the twins back into the wild when spring came, heartbroken at the thought of them dying like their mother or his grandfather. Worried about his son's attachment to the squirrels, the new king asked Merlin to release them into safety and watch over them to make sure they could adapt to living in nature again. Merlin agreed, but the twins were easily attached to humans by this point and their comfort with him made it difficult for him to usher them back into the woods.

The twins were found by Madam Mim, who'd seen Merlin "raising" them. In an act against her old rival, she captured the twins and turned them into humans, teaching them black magic and using them to lure other victims to her cottage when they were old enough. By the time they were preteens, Merlin discovered what had happened and tried to dual Mim for their freedom. Knowing the witch's tricks, Merlin tried to transport the twins to a different period in time to hide them from Mim. The witch knew what he was attempting as he was doing it and cast a similar spell to try and hide them from Merlin. Both spells hit the twins at the same time and they were sent to where neither spell-casters could figure out.

The twins surfaced at the threshold of Night Raven College in the dead of night. Scared and with no guardian or guidance, they used their magic to revert back to being squirrels, staying at the school to figure out where they were and how to adapt. In their small, unassuming forms, they were able to hide out in lectures and listen in on conversations and, whenever night came again, they'd turn back into humans to test the skills they had seen. Their presence was not entirely unnoticed, but many assumed the noises made and messes left were the result of ghosts or rowdier students. During this time, they also learned of Diamond Crown Academy. When they came of age, they were selected by their respective schools’ magics to attend, though they lied about their origins when asked. Crowley and Citrouille were highly aware of this rouse, but also very much aware of the twins' strange circumstances of suddenly appearing on the college's campus out of nowhere. They decided letting the twins have a place of residence and get an education was the best course of action for them, especially since they were recruited by the schools and did have an aptitude for magic.

HOBBIES

Being part of the Ignihyde dorm at Night Raven College, Thomas is proficient with computer work. His special skill involves coding, able to read and make code for something as recreational as a video game or as serious as hacking into a security system. Despite the technical emphasis of his dorm, he still enjoys more active hobbies such as playing sports or hunting. His favorite hobby to relax with is playing the flute.

In semi-part of her magic training at Diamond Crown Academy, Katherine enjoys making perfumes and other beauty (mostly bath) products in her dorm at Chateau Beastiale, some of which include magic additives. Like her brother, she enjoys more active hobbies as well, particularly finding enjoyment in ballet and gymnastics. While she also enjoys baking, her favorite way to unwind is to simply shop and get elaborate manicures and spa treatments.

PERSONALITIES

While the twins don't remember their time as infant kits, the twins have very strong memories of the time spent with King Arthur and his grandson (they believe this was due to some sort of residual magic presence Arthur had gained over the years influencing them). They remember his kindness and unyielding sense of responsibility towards his family and his kingdom. When Mim turned them into humans, she treated the now-children to a very manic upbringing. While she taught them how to read, write, and do magic, she was also very scornful and quick with harsh punishments over small transgressions. Due to her unpredictable behavior, the twins were greatly afraid of her and followed her every order, no matter how ridiculous. The black magic she taught them also leeched into their minds, making them numb to their actions of luring other children to her cottage. They grew to trust only each other, frightful of Mim and unsure of how to escape her clutches. When the duel between her and Merlin resulted in them being banished to Night Raven College, their came a sense of relief for their freedom despite being worried about how they'd adapt to their new home.

The twins are frequently at odds with their own instincts. They remember their time with King Arthur fondly and want to honor his kindness, but Mim's treatment made them paranoid and resentful. They're generally soft-spoken, but there's a self-protecting air about them that makes them intimidating at first glance. However, they can be very friendly and approachable when they do bother to speak up. They're not entirely used to socializing, or at least not doing so frequently due to the long time Mim spent isolating them and them then having to hide as squirrels as they learned the modern world, but most people chalk this up to shyness. Their time with Mim lead them to learn how to be incredibly manipulative whenever they wished in order to obtain what they wanted. While they try not to behave this way to mislead kind people, they're also very self-preserving and, sometimes, feeling they "deserve" what they're aiming to get after the suffering they've endured. They are very kind and caring as they try to emulate Arthur's treatment of them, but they're also very cunning and distrustful as Mim taught them to be.

They've only really trusted each other throughout most of their lives. As such, they're going prioritize each other over all else. They grew to be able to cope with being separated physically, as they had to become accustom to it once they enrolled in different schools, but the thought of truly losing each other fills them with a sense of dread and anxiety, sometimes just the idea of it driving them to nightmares. This is one of the reasons why they're not focused on finding future spouses, as they're not ready to spend their lives with "strangers" (as squirrels mate for life). However, they are perfectly okay with flirting, dating, or light-hearted, non-committal romance.

ROMANCE PREFERENCES

The twins don't take dating very seriously. They're very open to flirting and having spirited liaisons with their peers, but when the subject of being in a committed relationship comes up, the two are quick to turn tail and run. It's not that they don't want a life partner some day, but it's only been in the past few years that they've had some sort of semblance of peace and they're not ready to fully trust others with their hearts yet.

Thomas' taste in romantic partners is very open and varied, but he prefers partners that he feel he can protect. Though not remembering his mother, he vaguely remembers hearing about her demise. It's because of this that he's terrified of not being able to be strong enough to protect his love ones, and he's insecure at the thought of not being the "strong" one in the relationship, either physically or mentally. With time, he would be able to adapt to having someone stronger and/or more mature than he is, who could help him cope with the anxiety he has about being unable to protect his family and friends. However, it would be a very long, tiring road to convincing him, and ultimately he'd need a partner with a great deal of patience. Thomas is bisexual.

Katherine has similar fears about being unable to protect her loved ones, but at her core she is afraid of being hurt (or even killed) and leaving others behind. She desires someone who can take care of her and protect her in order to put her fears to rest. However, she's a very caring person to the point where she might even prefer someone that she can protect herself, though it's very hard for her to admit this to herself. Like Thomas, she needs someone with a lot of patience as she comes to terms with how a romantic relationship is built on trust and understanding of one another's emotional needs and that it's not about whether who's "in charge" of what. Katherine is heterosexual, but bi-curious.

Train Tracks: Route 1; Not Pregnant

Description: Hybrid!Reader x Taehyung: As a hybrid you have no worth and your means of survival is digging through the trash, working odd jobs for those who are more kind-hearted, and–unfortunately–pick-pocketing. When you choose the wrong target, things take a strange turn as this obviously wealthy man enters your life.

Warnings: I think this part is clean, but let me know if it’s not.

Posted: 05/16/2019

Tags: Taehyung, Human Taehyung, Hybrid Reader

Mostly fluffy: 3,896 words

A/N: I like the way this route turned out much better than the way the other route turned out. This one just feels more natural while the other gave me so much trouble that I just sort of gave up on it. Either way, enjoy one of the two endings for Train Tracks!

You peered around the training facility, trying to determine where Taehyung was. The freshest scent he had left appeared to lead towards the puppy-room, which wasn’t surprising. There was a fresh batch of fluffy puppies that were staying here for a while so he could find those that would make good service dogs. You peeked in first, watching him with the pups. He was good with the dogs, firm but kind, indulgent but with moderation. He trained them well. “They’re hungry, didn’t you feed them yet?” You asked, finally entering. He looked up at you, first in surprise, then with a grin. “Wanted them to work for their food. Help me?” “Everyone, you have to sit,” You instructed. They took a few minutes but eventually they were all sitting. The two of you passed out some kibble as a treat, then he started teaching them to lay down one by one while you kept the others distracted. You tossed a tennis ball and watched the pups stumble over themselves and each other without ever reaching the ball because they started playing with each other instead. Dogs. A shadow was cast over you, and you flinched, looking up at Taehyung. Both of you were standing, him at least ten inches taller than you, but probably more. You could just barely flick the top of his head with your tail. Your eyes widened when you saw him suppressing a grin after you flicked the hair on his head with your tail. “Cute,” He chuckled, then passed you to get to the food bin to get more treats. 

You crouched to play tug with one of the puppies that was tugging at your pant-leg, avoiding his gaze with all your might. “So, my buddy is free tomorrow. Would it be okay if we came and got your place ready for winter?” He asked, scooping up his next training victim. “I suppose.” “I’ll take that as a yes. Jungkook said he was free to help as well.” You nodded. “Okay.” The two of your were pretty quiet for a while. “You’re really comfortable with Jungkook, aren’t you?” You blinked a couple times to let your mind catch up. “I guess so.” “More than me?” You sat back on your heels, flicking your tail out of the puppies’ reach. “About the same, I think.” “Really?” “Well, I know you better now.” “So you’re more comfortable with me?” “A little, I guess.” He was smiling triumphantly, though you weren’t sure why. “Did you get him to lay down on command?” You asked, looking at the pup that was basically eating the kibble out of Taehyung’s hand. He glanced down and quickly closed his hand with a soft groan. “No.” You batted his head gently. “Focus.” “Yes, ma’am.” You squeaked as sharp little puppy teeth got your tail. You looked back at the excited pup and sighed. “Yes, yes, you won. Now let go. It’s attached and that hurts.” The pup let get, licking it apologetically. “Good boy, who’s a good boy?” You rubbed his sides until he fell over and then rubbed his belly. “That’s the one that keeps trying to go home with you.” You grinned and scooped him up. “That’s because he’s a good boy.” “Very good boy,” He added. “Maybe he should be your dog.” You rubbed your nose against his fur. He still smelled like the puppy-shampoo you had washed all of them with the previous day, which was nice. “He might be a good companion for you if you’re still running around town alone. You have a job where he could come with you, he could eat here if you’re worried about food. You don’t have to decide now, we can keep training them.” Taehyung sat next to you, obviously giving up on training for now. It was pretty routine by now. He would get distracted and you would subtly keep training the pups by talking with them. Then he would work on some paperwork while eating lunch and you would work with one of the older dogs that was getting ready to be placed with an owner. You would play in a wheel-chair and the dog would get things for you and open doors and then you would fall out of the wheel-chair and so on and so forth. “Maybe. If he’s not adopted by the time he’s seven months, I’ll take him,” You agreed, leaning your head onto Taehyung’s shoulder. His hand rested on your head. “So, Yoongi, Jungkook, and I will be there tomorrow, probably a little after first light. “I’ll warn the wolves not to attack you,” You replied calmly. “Make sure you don’t draw too much attention to where you go. Can you find it on your own after you leave the East gate.” He nodded. “Yeah, I can find it.” “Are you sure, because you couldn’t even find the East gate. And Jungkook said it was morning when you tried.” He pouted. “I can find it.” “I’ll write down directions,” You said, heading over to the desk and grabbing the pad and paper. He was looking over your shoulder as you wrote out instructions. “Where’d you learn to write?” You felt hot with embarrassment. “Chanyeol taught me what he knew. I can read better than I can write. I’ve had a few odd jobs reading to some elderly folk.” He put his hand over yours and guided the pen over the page. “Like this.” You watched your letters form better under his guidance, swallowing a little to get past the knot in your throat. “Sorry.” “It’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s not your fault the government treats you as worse than animals. I can get you some books to help you improve, then I can give you more responsibility.” He shrugged and left your side. You read through the note, knowing that some of it was probably misspelled. You almost wanted to crumple it up and throw it away. Try again until it was perfect. “Hey, you heard me, right? It’s okay. I can read it, and that’s what matters.” The puppy plopped onto your foot, licking your ankle. Taehyung gently pulled the instructions from your hand, folded them and put them in his pocket, then took your hands in his much larger ones. They encompassed your hands, making them look like the hands of a child which also gave you mixed feelings. But his hands were warm. “Look at me,” He instructed. You tentatively looked up at his face. “Don’t worry so much about it. I didn’t even know you could write, so I’m pretty impressed. Most hybrids don’t know how to read or write. If it bugs you, then we’ll work together to improve your ability. Okay?” You nodded hesitantly. “Don’t cry,” he whispered more gently, cupping your face in his hands. “Everything’s okay.” You sniffled and pressed your face into his chest so that he at least wouldn’t see the tears falling. He held you tightly. “Oh, kitten.” You pinched him. “Not a kitten.” He chuckled. “Sure you are. You’re small and cute and you have ears and a tail, and you purr when you’re happy.” “I also scratch when I’m grumpy or indignant.” He squeezed you and rubbed his face in your hair before releasing you. “Better. Now, can you take the puppies outside to play a bit. Maybe work on some basic commands? I have to have a conference call with someone who’s trying to find a service dog.” You nodded and herded the pups out into the sunshine of the yard, trying to determine when exactly your tears had stopped. ——— You fell on your butt as the root finally came loose in your hands. You huffed and shook the plant to get some of the dirt off of it, then tossed it into your basket and turned to dig around the next one. You were working just a short distance from the road since you didn’t think Taehyung would actually be able to find the way, even with your directions, gathering some chicory plants. The flowers were a bit bitter, but you could still eat those, and the leaves were edible too, but you were mostly after the roots. You liked to bake them and then grind them up, mixing it with roasted and ground dandelion roots to make your own sort of coffee that you liked to drink on especially cold mornings in winter. You also needed to check on the wild grapes over by the abandoned train station and see if any were ripe. You had some turning into raisins on the roof of the train car that you had gathered from a spot closer to town on your way home the previous evening, but the grapes at the train station were extensive and somewhat sweeter. In a week or so you would start gathering rose hips. Probably another two weeks before the persimmons would be ripe enough to be edible. You could gather from your little patch of wild onion you’d cultivated the past four years any time you wanted, having already harvested some to dry in an onion braid. The barberry could also be harvested at any time, though you figured you should do it sooner rather than later considering your bird competition seemed stronger this year. You took out a small notebook that Taehyung had given you and the stump of pencil you now carried around with it, writing down all of the things you still needed to gather for winter, including chickweed, acorns, walnuts, crab-apples, various mushrooms, and your potatoes in the other garden patch that your bunny friend watches over in return for some carrots in winter. “I know it was somewhere along this road!” “As long as you don’t try to take us into another thorn bush,” Someone muttered. You rolled your eyes and stood up. “Taehyung?” He turned and grinned. “Hey!” Then he pouted. “You didn’t think I would find it?” “I just heard them confirm that you couldn’t find it,” You replied, bending back down and pulling the last root out and shaking it before tossing it into the basket as well and tucking your notebook back into your sweater pocket. “I realized it was the wrong path!” “You were about to lead us into the undergrowth on the wrong side of the road,” Jungkook pointed out. “Just like you did back there.” Taehyung made a face, bounding over to you and holding out a small bouquet of goldenrod and tansy. “They looked bright and happy.” You smiled and took it. “Thank you. I’ll use them before they die.” “Use them?” His head tilted with curiosity. “Well, tansy is good for the skin so I like to make a tea from it and then concentrate it, sometimes I’ll add it to my soap. It’s also good for fevers. Goldenrod is edible and medicinal, so I like to gather the flowers and leaves.” You rubbed your face into the soft goldenrod. “Thank you.” You would have to add both to your list of things to still forage. And garlic. And mallow, though you hated going into the marsh, but you could also get some cedar, and maybe some Labrador tea or bog rosemary as well. “You weren’t kidding,” The one stranger said. He was watching you with a slightly curious expression, a half-smile on his face but sadness in his eyes. You tensed, gaze darting between the two strangers. One had to be Yoongi, but who was the other? “Of course I was,” A different voice replied. Then you noticed another three strangers that had been hidden by Tae’s body and the tree by the road. “I can explain,” Taehyung started. You looked up at him, then at the strangers that were slowly approaching. One held a bouquet of sunflowers, another had a bouquet of lavender and some other herb that you couldn’t identify at this distance. The last two were carrying toolbags and hauling a wagon of supplies. They must have made quite the procession going through the village. “Um, they wanted to hang out, but we told them we were working on a project and then they kept pestering us so we explained the project and that we were doing it for you and they volunteered to come. But I said it probably wasn’t a good idea because you had been hesitant in the first place, but they kept arguing and said that with more help it would go faster…and that sounded true, so I caved and they’re here but they also brought you flowers and they helped get the supplies and tools here and please don’t ask your animal friends to hurt us?” You blinked a couple times, then with a final lash of your tail nodded sharply. “Okay, so, you know Jungkook. This one is Yoongi, the one that actually knows what he’s doing.” He gestured to a shorter man that looked somewhat cat-like himself. You dipped your head and he nodded back. “The one next to him is Namjoon.” The conflicted one from earlier smiled and waved. “Nice to meet you.” You just nodded again. “This is Jimin,” He indicated the man that came up to you with the lavender and herb bouquet. “I told them you’d prefer useful bouquets. This has lavender, rosemary, sage, catmint, and thyme.” He had a soft voice, and you liked it. He also had a pleasant aura. “Nice to meet you,” You replied, taking the bouquet he offered and not meeting his gaze. He sort of giggled and stepped back. “Seokjin is the one pulling the wagon, and Hoseok is the one holding and imitating sunflowers.” Hoseok chuckled and gestured to your full arms. “I’ll give it to you when we’re there.” You nodded gratefully. “Um, I guess follow me?” They all nodded, Jungkook taking your basket before you could. You led the way, extremely self-conscious that you were leading not three, but seven men to your home. You had to be out of your mind. There were whispered conversations between some of the boys, but you couldn’t pick up exactly what was said between your racing heart and the wind blowing through the plants and creating a ruckus. And that stupid robin that never knew when to shut its beak. “Whoa-whoa-whoa, we have to go down that?” Hoseok asked, sounding a little nervous. You turned back and smiled. “It’s safe.” You held out your hand to him after shifting the bouquets. He smiled a little and took it. You led the way through the dark, listening to the boys tease each other but focusing on leading Hoseok through, feeling the way he flinched resonate through his hand. You purred softly as the sound died down to barely an echo in the tunnel, seeing the light ahead. Hoseok relaxed once the end was clearly in sight, and seemed to sigh once out of the tunnel. The other boys were quiet, looking at the train car. Taehyung glanced at you. “Is it ready for us?” You nodded. “I packed things up and cleaned. Not the kitchen, because of last night, but I have everything moved.” You nodded toward the carefully organized pile in the protective lean-to you had constructed the previous day. “Or boxed up inside. I wasn’t exactly sure what you meant by preparing for winter.” Yoongi looked for permission before entering the train-car, disappearing inside when you nodded. He came out a moment later. “You live here all year?” “For years.” He looked back inside. “Alright, let me make a plan before you all come plodding in. Y/n, if you have other things to do, go ahead and do them. With these bozos it’ll get pretty crowded.” “Might be less stressful,” Jimin suggested softly. “And Taehyung can be your assistant.” “What?” Taehyung started pouting. “No, hyung, Namjoon should help her instead,” Jungkook protested. “He’d break her,” Seokjin objected. You looked up and decided you might need to move your raisin-making pan to a better location. While they were debating, you climbed up into the roof of the car and got the pan. “How did you get up there?” Jungkook asked, eyes lighting up. You gestured to the ladder, then climbed down with the pan, taking it farther down the tracks and setting it in a spot that got sun all day. You came back to them and looked between all of them. “I think you’ll be pretty crowded with even five people. I have a whole list of things to do, so whoever you think you don’t want around, Yoongi-oppa, I’ll put to work.” He nodded. “Take Namjoon and Taehyung.” You took the basket from Jungkook and went to spread the roots in the sun to dry while you worked. “We’re your servants for the day,” Namjoon said, walking over with Taehyung. You dumped the dirt from the basket and handed it to Namjoon. “We’ll need a few more baskets for what I have planned.” You went back to the car, ducking in and grabbing the stack of baskets, and the bags you could tie to your belt. “Two baskets each.” You grabbed the fish traps from the wall as well. They both grabbed extra baskets. You took some strips of fabric and wove them through so that you could strap one to your back. Taehyung took the other one. “What is this?” “Fish trap. I thought we could set them up on the way to the station.” You shifted, looking down. “Last year we were catching fish every day until they stopped entering the trap on top of scavenging in town.” “Well, you’ll also have some money since you’re working…” Taehyung pointed out. You nodded a little. “True. But I’d like to save as much of that as I can. Get myself a coat.” “I could get you a coat,” he offered softly. You shook your head adamantly. “Please,” He whispered. “No. You’re already doing all of this,” You gestured to the car. “And you’ve given me a job, blankets, and you insist on sending food home with me every day. It’s more than enough.” “I could never do enough for you,” Taehyung replied, holding your gaze. You stared back at him, a little startled. “We should go. We’re burning daylight and Yoongi said you were my assistants for today.” You hurried past him and down the path towards the station, heart racing at the look in Taehyung’s eyes. You didn’t know what it was, but part of you wanted to keep seeing it. ———— You stared out the window at the snow falling, holding a cup of your homemade coffee substitute. It was one of your weekends off and part of you wanted to go out into the snow and check on your animal pals. The other wanted to stay warm and curled up in the nest of blankets you had made. Your home was substantially warmer than it had been before thanks to the insulation that Yoongi had installed. The whole place was a little nicer since Yoongi’s work. Taehyung had had them sneak in and install a wood-burning stove that effectively heated your home without the fire hazards of your kitchen, which also had an oven feature and two burners. You didn’t worry about stoking the fire in the middle of the night, or freezing to death because you slept. You were perfectly capable of having a lazy day. Your door opened and panic rose in you. Taehyung quickly closed the door, shaking himself off and stripping his hat, coat, and gloves after setting down your puppy. “Morning.” “Morning?” He warmed his hands by the stove. “Chilly this morning. Ooh, is that coffee?” “Sort of,” You replied, still confused by his sudden arrival. “It’s dandelion and chicory.” “Can I try some?” “Sure?” You shifted to get up. “No, no, stay cuddled and warm.” He lifted the puppy onto your bed (which he had also modified when they were all in here, the sneak) then poured himself a mug of your coffee. Then—this part really baffled you—he had the audacity to come over and crawl into your nest with you and the puppy. You sat there silently for a few minutes. “So…um…what brings you here?” “Got lonely.” “And your friends weren’t available?” “They were, but I like you best.” He snuggled in, hands finally warm after warming them on the sleepy puppy. He’d been getting progressively touchier around you, especially if the other guys were there. He would get grumpy and pouty if Jungkook, Hoseok, or Jimin got near you, which was frustrating because they were the ones you were most comfortable with since the other three were just a little too shy to get on just yet. “Um…okay…” You sort of resigned yourself to his presence. He fell asleep a short time after finishing his cup, holding onto you. Which left you with the options of sitting there while he slept growing bored and restless, or taking a quick little nap. A cat nap. You woke up purring, nuzzling into the warm body next to you and licking at the skin. “Did you just lick me?” His voice was deep, both teasing and seductive. You gasped and pulled away. His sleepy gaze, damn him. And how did you not notice that his collarbone was so pronounced, especially as it peeked out of that shirt. “Kitten,” he rumbled. “Are you going into heat?” You squeaked in protest to the dreaded words. But he was right. Damn him. Damn him, damn him…holy crap his hair looked amazing when he just woke up. He made a soft shushing noise. “It’s okay, kitten. We thought as much. YOu’ll be in full heat tomorrow, probably.” “We?” You asked in a squeaky tone. “Jimin and I. He works with hybrids. I consulted him because you’ve been…well…” He shrugged. “Sort of clingy and needy. Pouty too.” “I think you just described yourself…” His mouth dropped. “What?! I’m not—” “You broke into my home and climbed into my bed, and I can’t talk to your friends because then you get pouty and grumpy.” “Only because you belong to me,” He protested, then sat up and held up his hands. “Wait, I meant that…no…I said the wrong word…wait…” You watched in wide-eyed confusion as he tried to correct himself but made a mess. “You’re not a belonging, but you belong with me and not them because they’re trash, but I love you and I think we could be really happy together and I never want to see you suffer and this bed is really great and I don’t mind if you still want to live out here sometimes, it’s a nice location and it’s really actually quite frugal and I like that you’re frugal—” He gasped for breath, then tilted his head. “Can I kiss you?” You just stared at him, trying to process everything he just spewed at you. He loved you, his friends were trash, he liked that you were frugal, and could he kiss you? Was that right? That couldn’t be right. You must have already been a bit feverish. Or dreaming. Or feverish and dreaming. That was most likely. Then his lips pressed softly to yours.

Masterlist. ~ Part 2. ~ Route 2

Tagging: @jiminslye​

Holidays and Traditions

This is my list of all the Holidays and Traditions I’ve created for the clans. Please help me write more if you want or offer suggestions to help me fine tune the ones I have please!

All Clans

New Moon -> Day of the Dead Celebration (Holiday) The time for all the clans to reset and regroup themselves. It's a time of peace and much like fighting during the full moon, highly disrespectful to wage any kind of combat during the New Moon. The cats use common berries and pastes to paint their faces and coats and celebrate. All cats from the youngest kits to the oldest warriors were allowed and called to participate.

During this time, the leader brings the clan together to be grateful for the cats alive and to mourn all of the lives that were lost. The leaders invite cats up to their place of announcement to talk about cats who they think deserved a special mention. When every cat has been mentioned (an unspoken rule of 5 cats maximum to keep it from running to long) the clan sits in silence and thinks of their lost ones until the sun is high in the sky.

Young kits, sick cats and the oldest warriors are not required to sit through the entire vigil. Apprentices aren't either but they usually try to tough it out. The leader is required to sit through the vigil on the ground with the rest of the clan to display their appreciation for the cats that died for them either in battle, old age, sickness etc while still serving their leader.

This is one of the few times where it is widely acceptable to travel to another clan. Especially if you were born in another clan and you had family who died. In fact, leaders tend to position patrols on the borders at sunset of the new moon and escort them to the camp where they sit vigil with the clan and stay until the next sunrise in which they are escorted back to their own territories.

New Moon legend is that if you sit vigil long enough and think hard enough about the cat, when you fall asleep you'll reach StarClan's hunting grounds and be able to talk to the cat you're grieving over until you awaken.

Fullmoon -> The Great Games (Holiday)

The clan leader choose cats from their clans and make their way to the area of gathering at Sunhigh and the deputy stays behind to run the camp while the leader is gone. The cats chosen take part in the all day celebration of the cats showing off their talents in competitions. Apprentices taking part in obstacle courses and general clan trivia, the warriors participate in friendly battles to show off their skills and prowess in combat. Elders are even included as they tell stories from the forest, the Great Journey, and about the scars on their person. Leaders gather together to talk peacefully and playfully boast about their warriors.

At Sunset, the games come to a close and everyone settles down to listen to the announcements the leaders make. The leaders talk about prey, announce new apprentices or new warriors and warn the other clans about possible threats like Twolegs or foxes. Medicine cats are encouraged to share information about known diseases spreading and picking up and offer herbs if ever needed before the clans split off and head back to their own clans.

Heroic Honor

Cats that have proven their worth to all the clans have lots of sway over other leaders. The greatest leaders have their names carved into the place of gathering (Highrock, Four Trees)

Medicine Cat Wreaths All medicine cats wear a woven chain of basil leaves around their necks to symbolize their position as healers and show that they are peaceful. Cats smelling strongly of basil always give clan cats a pause because of this and peaceful crossing of borders is done by rolling about in basil until you stink of it then standing by the border to let a passing patrol know you mean no harm.

Forever Mating When certain cats decide they want to be mated for life, they go to the deputy and medicine cat. The medicine cats then take a strip of each cat's fur and braid them together with Valerian stems which the mated cats then attach to a single ring of bramble or equivalent around their necks.

Trading During the full moon gathering, it's customary for hunters bring small amounts of prey to be exchanged for other prey that's rare or hard to get in their own territories.

ThunderClan Specific

Birth By Thunder (Tradition)

Thunderclan that are struck by lighting and survive are named Thunder or Lightning with no exceptions. It's a rare occurrence despite how often they're out in storms and call lightning down unto itself. Most cats don't survive but those who do end up with lightning designs scored across their bodies as their fur grows back and gain a permanently charged looked in their eyes. These cats interestingly enough keep a lightning design splayed across their backs.

RiverClan Specific

Warrior Hood

RiverClan deeply prizes their relationship with water and their ability to swim. One ability RiverClan cats have is to use their spark to make them capable of stay below water for much longer time spans than the average cat. As such, when given their assessment an apprentice must be able to swim to bottom of the riverbed and bring something back with them.

ShadowClan Specific Day of Silence (Tradition) ShadowClan cats were once forced into silence by the other clans as a result of theft and attacks- told to stay quit and think. They shrieked and shouted but were forced into silence all the same. A moon later the cats came back calmer and more introspective about themselves. Since then, it's been tradition for an apprentice to spend one day following their mentor around in complete silence from sunrise to sunrise.

WindClan Specific

GhostClan Specific

Lineage Pride (Tradition)

As GhostClan is made of loners and rogues the other clans like to taunt them about being kittypets playing around. Offended, GhostClan decided to show their pride for their heritage and some warriors upon being given their names paint a ring around their necks to show they aren't ashamed at having been house-cats

Her Nightmare

This is little something I wrote and I thought I could post it here. Even if some of it doesn’t necessarily make sense without proper context... Still, I thought I could see how this goes.

She felt like she was floating, like she was underwater. The sounds around her didn’t quite match the idea of being underwater though. Something about it was off. Her orange optics came to life as she decided she wanted to have a look around herself, her curiosity taking over the simple feeling of serenity of only floating in darkness. It was dark enough here for her to see the light from her eyes trying to spread as far as it could and the space around her didn’t seem to have any end in sight in all directions. No walls, ceiling or floor. What was this place?

As Verity contemplated and tried calculating all of the possibilities of what the place she was in was, something caught her attention in the sidelines of her vision. She turned her head to look at whatever it was that was there, and she froze as she took in what was in front of her.

It was an awoken woman with long, white hair that was tied back and had many small braids in it that were decorated with different coloured beads here and there. She had violet, bordering on purple, skin and her awoken markings included a shape of a diamond stretched so it started from the center of her forehead and went down to the tip of her nose, and little dots that resembled freckles that were sprinkled across her face. She also had vitiligo, lighter coloured skin framing her face and stretching to her left eye and nearly reaching the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were closed, but Verity knew for a fact that the woman’s eyes were bright orange, mirroring the woman’s inner fire that she often hid from others.

Moving down from the woman’s face, Verity looked at the darkly coloured armor the other was wearing, the armor of a hunter. That armor hid many scars underneath and was designed to help blend in with the environment of the Reef. There was a hand cannon in a holster tied to the hunter’s right thigh. The weapon had a knife attached to it under the barrel and the tried blood on it suggested the woman was not afraid of close quarter combat, even if she favored using her sniper rifle that was strapped to her back. Long Shadow. That was the sniper rifle’s name.

Verity felt something lightly touching her left hand and she turned her attention away from the woman she knew so intimately, though she has never seen her from this perspective. She saw a hunter’s helmet and turned to carefully pick it up. This piece of gear was also mostly darkly coloured, perhaps suggesting that it belonged to the awoken woman, but the vizor was covered by tethers from the Void. It was almost as if the vizor itself was made of Void.

The exo turned her attention back to the hunter and looked at her silently for a moment while holding the helmet in her hands. She was suddenly filled with the urge to move closer, and so she did and slowly reached out with one hand. As she did, the awoken woman’s eyes started to open, slowly and tiredly. When their eyes met, the space between them immediately grew double the distance it was before. This made Verity anxious, and she tired moving closer to the woman again, but this time there was something stopping her from advancing. Something was pulling and keeping her back as the hunter slowly started sinking deeper into the darkness below.

Verity was starting to become overcome by panic and she abandoned the helmet completely as she tried reaching out for the other with all of her might. The hunter tried reaching out for her as well, though it seemed she was barely awake and had just enough energy to move her hand towards the exo. Verity tried to say the hunter’s name, but no sound left her mouth. She couldn’t allow this to happen. Not this soon. She couldn’t allow herself to forget all of this, all of that the hunter was. If she did, all could be lost to her.

While she could only watch in desperation as the hunter sunk deeper, almost out of sight, Verity felt like something was squeezing around her, stopping her from moving almost at all. She struggled, still trying to reach out for the hunter with one hand, but then everything changed in a split of a second. She was no longer there, in the darkness. Instead she saw fur that was pushed against her face and felt the cool air of the Reef around her. She was still roughly in the same position, with her right hand shaking and outstretched towards something unseen, and her breathing was ragged. There was an eliksni captain holding her with all four arms wrapped around her tightly, and after a moment of no movement the arms slowly started letting go of the exo.

As the captain moved away from her, giving Verity a little bit of room, the exo looked at her own hand as she pulled it closer, watching as her hand still shook.

“Another vision?” the captain asked with a low, somewhat hushed voice. Her voice brought some comfort to Verity as the exo squeezed her shaking hand into a fist. She opened her hand, the shaking having now stopped. She gave a small nod and turned her head to look up at the eyes of the captain. Massra. Good, she still remembered her name.

“We’re running out of time,” she said and moved to stand up. Massra stood up as well and faced the rest of the eliksni in the small cave with Verity. They were ready and waited for orders. Verity took in a quiet deep breath.

“We’re moving out,” Verity said to the whole group in their own language. She reached to take her sniper rifle, the Long Shadow, from her back. “We cannot afford to lose any time today. We will be moving quickly, but I still expect all of you to keep an eye out for any trouble we might face while out here. Best case scenario is that we’ll find what we’re here for today, but be prepared to search even past resting hours. Remember to keep everyone in the group up to date with anything unusual or suspicious you might see or hear.”

With an affirmative answer from everyone in the group, all of them left the cave they had used for rest. They needed to continue their sweep over the area and they needed to be careful. The Reef could be unforgiving and Verity didn’t want to repeat the disaster that happened when the Scorn first made their way across the Reef after the prison break. The exo also needed to remind herself to be careful, as she has not been a guardian for a while. She still knew how to fight, knew how to use a gun and a knife, but she no longer had a ghost. She only had one life now, but perhaps all that could be changed if they would find what they were looking for.

As a photographer, I couldn’t wait to get to Namibia.  I’ve dreamt about going on an African safari for years, and I was told this was a great alternative to the far more popular Tanzania.  What I didn’t realize is that Namibia has so much more to offer than just elephants and zebras.  If you’re debating a trip to this beautiful country, here are some photos that should tip the scales.

Don’t have time to read it now? Pin it for later!

Wildlife

Let’s touch on the obvious, first.  When people picture Africa, one of the first things they think about is the incredibly diverse wildlife – animals that are most often only ever seen in zoos.  Africa is home to all of the well-known favorites – elephants, giraffes, zebras, lions – and there’s nothing that compares to seeing these magnificent creatures in their natural habitat.

We saw all of these and more during our six-day, self-drive safari through Etosha National Park.  What an experience!  It was a photographer’s dream from dawn until dusk.  We saw thousands of animals, and we checked off almost everything on our Lion King bucket list.  If wildlife is on the top of your list for your trip to Africa, you won’t be disappointed choosing Namibia for your fauna fix.  Check out our in-depth article on where to find each of the African animals in Etosha, including where to stay in the park, the best time to go, and how much it all costs.

New Animal Discoveries

While we’re on the topic of wildlife, Namibia is great not only for all the exotic favorites, but it introduced us to many we had never seen before – or even heard of!  Have you ever seen a hornbill?  They look rather different from colorful Zazu.. yet oddly familiar.

And have you seen a kudu?  How about an oryx?  We had never heard of either one before we went to Etosha.  By the time we left, however, we were well acquainted.  We even had the opportunity to sample an oryx steak during our visit to the Okonjima Nature Reserve!  Verdict: it’s quite delicious – a bit like beef, but somehow… smoother.. and without the marbling of fat often found in beef steaks.

Seals

Surprise!  Africa also has coasts and beaches!  Though mostly desert, oceanic animals also make their home on the continent.  We were delighted to find penguins in Cape Town, and we happily visited the Swakopmund area to seek out the fur seals (actually sea lions).

When we first pulled up, we were greeted by pups hobbling across the parking lot.  This drew our eyes to the massive pile of seals surrounded by a walkway.  Once we entered the boardwalk, we were shocked to find this was only a mere fraction of the population at the Cape Cross beach.  There had to be thousands of them sprawled out on the beach, dancing into the water, and screaming like dying goats.  It really was a fascinating place, and we just couldn’t get over simply how many were there.

Cats

Wildlife really is a major draw of most visiting Africa, so we have one more section, dedicated to my favorite animal.  Big cats can certainly be found in Namibia as on safaris in other countries, but we had a difficult time finding them on our own.  While they are in Etosha, they’re really good at hiding, and encounters are more based on luck.

We took matters into our own hands and visited the large predator and cat reserve at Okonjima.  We were almost guaranteed to see at least the cheetahs, and we were fortunate enough to also see a leopard.  It was expensive, but worth every penny.  You can read all about our visit with the cats here.

Tribes

Like many countries in Africa, Namibia also has its indigenous tribes.  We visited both the Himba and the Damara, and they each have very different traditions, histories, and cultures.  If you like portraiture, they both make wonderful subjects.  And if you are a fan of ancient cultures, you will love a visit to one of these villages.

Landscapes

Just because Namibia is mostly desert doesn’t mean there aren’t beautiful landscapes to photograph!  We stopped the car periodically to just take in the sights around us, and some stunning vistas were visible right off the side of the road.

However, one of our favorite spots was Spitzkoppe.  Not really on the route to other locations, we made a deliberate detour to visit this park.  It boasts several unique rock formations and bush walks that could easily eat up a few hours.  We chose to camp a night there so we could take in the nightscapes and early morning light, and it definitely deserves to be on any photographer’s bucket list.  Check out our recent Namibia camping post for our experience here along with several other campsites across the country.

  Stars

Speaking of nightscapes, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the stunning stars in Namibia.  I’ve only seen stars like this once before, and it was also in a desert – the Australian outback.  Without the glare of urban light pollution, nothing interferes with the brilliance of the night sky.

We couldn’t always shoot the Milky Way, however, due to the lunar phases, but we took advantage even of the full moon by shooting moonscapes in Spitzkoppe.  These eerie scenes almost look like daylight drizzled in stars, and it’s one of my favorite types of photography.

Swimming Ponds

Believe it or not, deserts do have some water!  Sprinkled throughout the area are various springs, watering holes, waterfalls, and ponds.  We skipped the famous Epupa Falls near Opuwo because it was out of our way and we chose to prioritize tribes instead.  But we did venture down the barely-road to Ongongo (where also could have camped) to cool off in its crystal-clear green pond.  It even came with some colorful dragonflies and friendly goats; what more could we want?

Dunes

Movies love to feature these epic journeys across vast deserts of sand, camels traversing the sharp ridges of massive sand dunes.  Well, though we didn’t see any camels, we could hike the soft ridges of several giant dunes in Sossusvlei.

Dune 45 is the most famous and probably the most photographed.  It’s the easiest to reach in time for sunrise, and it quickly becomes crowded.  But if you can run up the soft sand ahead of the crowds as we did, you’ll see this untainted view.

  The other dunes in Sossusvlei are just as picturesque – all times of the day.  They’re a challenge to hike, but the views are worth it!

Dead Trees

An interesting thing happens when an area doesn’t receive rain for years on end.  Tree skeletons left from a long-gone wetter era simply never rot.  Instead, they remain as twisted sentinels of the desert.

Deadvlei is the most famous of these sites, located at the far end of the Sossusvlei park.  We had such a field day photographing the spot both during the evening light and first thing in the morning when a rare fog settled in.  It’s by far one of the coolest places we’ve been, though it did take us two tries before we learned how to not get stuck in the sand on our way out there!

Sunsets

The African sun is also iconic, and Namibia is no exception.  We saw magnificent sunsets in Etosha, from the lofty hill in Opuwo, and all throughout our three-week journey.  The stagnant, dry air of the desert makes for some vibrant colors, and we looked forward to every one.

And since we weren’t supposed to drive at night, we were well settled into our campgrounds come dusk, with a cheap wine in-hand and nothing better to do than to sit back and enjoy it!

A Reason to Return

Even three weeks weren’t quite long enough to see everything we wanted to in Namibia.  Still on our list are the quiver trees, the Lunar Landscape, and the sandy ruins of Kolmanskop.  We’ll hit those on our next visit, and then we’ll have even more photographs to convince you to check out this amazing country!

What do you want to see most in Namibia?

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You might not be considering #Namibia for your next trip yet, but these #photos aim to change your mind! Click to see what this amazing country has to offer! #travelphotography #travelblog #africatravel As a photographer, I couldn't wait to get to Namibia.  I've dreamt about going on an African safari for years, and I was told this was a great alternative to the far more popular Tanzania. 

LONG below cut, just cosplay thoughts, nothing beyond lists of what i’d need for certain characters and some rambling

the reason for all this is that the friend who went with me to geek kon last year asked if i wanted to go this year. i told them maybe because on the one hand it was super fun but on the other hand i have a job now, so we’ll see. any amount of this may or may not pan out.

for jasprose:

white wig

white face paint

fur? (just for cheeks)

white cat ears

purple/pink headband

long-sleeved white tunic (with purple/pink trim and puff sleeves)

white leggins with pink/purple trim

pink/purple socks

white shoes with pink/purple trim

the fucking, neckpiece thing

pink/purple party hat

fangs (opt.)

pink/purple contacts (opt.) (ONE EYE OF EACH WOULD BE SICK AS FUCK)

for davepeta:

so much god. probably not worth it, sadly.

for karkat:

new, better wig

loose plain black shirt (to add symbol)

plain gray pants - do i already have these?

teeth (opt.)

gray/red contacts (opt.)

ears (opt.)

for dave:

wig (throwback to when i had dave hair haha)

shirt

red contacts (opt.)

for rose:

new, better wig

white/lavendar pencil skirt

purple contacts (opt.)

for dead aradia:

wig maybe

horns - wire, tinfoil, yarn, paint

black t-shirt - cut up sleeves + slit in bottom hem

long gray skirt - cut up

red and white socks

black vans w/ white laces (opt.)

white mesh contacts (opt.)

ears (opt.)

for kanaya:

wig maybe

black t shirt

red skirt - make?

white face paint (opt.)

green lipstick (opt.)

purple sash with green stain (if white face paint) (opt.)

gray/green contacts (opt.)

ears (opt.)

for roxy:

wig

shirt

skirt

legwarmers

scarf (opt.)

pink contacts (opt.)

for dirk:

wig (and id have to style it, ugh)

shirt

glasses - probably part thrift, part make, though it depends on what kind of stuff i can find

i have a broken styrofoam head so its a pipe dream of mine that i sculpt that with clay into a semi-realistic severed head and then either carry it around as dirk with the sendificator over my head or as jake and kiss it occasionally, but i have a lot of different feelings over the latter lately so probably i’d do the former. either way, that’d be a lot of work.

for sollux:

wig (hopefully not same wig as karkat/kanaya/anyone else)

horns

shirt

gray pants

a pair of white shoes and a pair of black shoes (which is annoying as fuck BUT i could use the black shoes for aradia w the white shoes’s laces and vice versa for roxy so id be able to use them for other stuff. plus vans-type shoes are cheap)

red and blue glasses (probably make somehow??)

red/blue contacts (opt.)

teeth (opt.)

ears (opt.)

nepeta’d be cool but a pretty particular (purrticular) type of person (nepeta stans, basically, and i’m not one of those) tends to cosplay her so ill pass

for terezi:

wig

horns

shirt

glasses - make somehow

red shoes

red contacts (opt.)

teeth (opt.)

ears (opt.)

for vriska (pre loss of eye and arm because that shits hard):

wig

horns

shirt

gray overshirt

glasses

red shoes (preferably something that looks like converse but i could just use the same shoes for her and terezi)

i dont actually remember if i have good blue lipstick or not. i know i have shitty blue lipstick that basically doesnt have pigment but im not sure about good blue lipstick. in any case i know tricks for that but hm. not sure.

blue/gray contacts (opt.)

fangs (opt.)

ears (opt.)

equius... im just not really interested. i once thought about doing eridan but i dont like him anymore so nah. feferi... would be cool, but i think the skirt would be a little beyond my knowledge of sewing. i could do jane or jade but frankly i find them harder to emulate as a cosplayer and i could do john, jake, or dirk, but i just dont wanna.

for meenah:

braids - i wont make the mistake of trying to make them out of real fake hair again, i promise you that, i still have two seven-foot chunks of loose hair in the basement that im not doing anything with

trident - i literally have all the materials for this i just havent made it

glasses - make somehow/thrift a pair

shirt - the one i used to have is ruined (i know canonically she wears a t shirt but for some reason everyone cosplays her in a crop top, including me.) (i fucked up my shirt by not knowing how to work the printing stuff i got, like, the night before the con.)

tank top (depending on whether my current one fits me still)

horns - the ones i have are pretty much beyond fixing now so i’d have to start over. that’s fine though, i have plenty of materials.

teeth (opt.)

mesh contacts (opt.)

ear fins - i have these but i could stand to paint them pink since atm theyre purple, but otherwise theyre pretty close to perfect as is.

universal items i’ll probably need no matter what:

black and white t shirts (thats pretty much everyone)

screenprinting paper for dark or light shirts, depending on who i do

i have paint but having more wouldn’t hurt, and i might want/need white paint as well

fangs/teeth - for these i’d like to buy nice scarecrow fangs and use those and then maybe make some shitty mouthfuls of teeth with fake nails and that melty plastic shit

wigs - i’m willing to shell out a bit more for these as well. i’d like a nice short black one for karkat, kanaya, and if i ever decide to do jane, john, or jake, and though i have a long black wig it sucks pretty hard and i need a better one, probably curly, with bangs. though straight would be okay for most of these anyway. the only person who needs a medium length wig is terezi, and that’s actually pretty much true for all of hs, which is... too bad.

horns - i have a few pairs of horns already and PLENTY of clay to make more, but for bigger horns i’d need more than model magic. for aradia (and probably eridan and mmmaybe equius though im not doing either of them) and maybe vriska and kanaya (just to make those joints easier) id use the wire, tinfoil, and yarn method, but anything smaller than that i can use my clay. i already have peixes and vantas horns, though the peixes horns are broken and are resisting being fixed and the vantas horns don’t attach very well. i also have leijon horns in the works as well that were originally for davepeta. but id use clay to make vantas, captor, leijon, maybe maryam, pyrope, and maybe equius horns, and i used it for my peixes horns (though i didnt attach them well to the headband so those didnt go great).

contacts - i have actual regular contacts now, so now i wont have to worry about being blind ever. the next step is to get cosplay lenses (yes i know safe sites to get them from, yes i know my prescription and what size to get, yes i know how to be safe buying contacts). the best investement for sure would be a gray pair and a mesh pair, just speaking in terms of sheer number of characters. beyond that, it depends on who i end up cosplaying as to what color lenses i buy. for instance, if i decide on aradia, meenah, and dave, white and red lenses make the most sense. if i decide on rose, jasprose, and karkat, purple and gray ones make the most sense.

for any glasses, i’m going to be looking at thrift shops first and foremost. if i don’t find anything in a reasonable time, i’ll find stuff online.

i have probably two-thirds of a pot of snazzaroo, which will probably be enough, but if i decide to do a sprite or vampire kanaya, i’ll need white paint as well. plus if i decide to do more than one troll, i might want more gray paint anyway.

ears - i dont have any rn. i know a few methods to make them and a few places i can buy them but i’d probably end up making them anyway, mostly for cost-effectiveness.

as for money... well, i’ll do my best. i have an actual job now, and it’s pretty good. ive worked a lot in my first few days and ill keep working so even with taxes my paychecks are gonna be pretty sweet. id take commissions but i still have yet to consistently create any kind of art so im waiting til i can do that. also i dont have a way to get that money rn. nbd either way; i dont have any expenses besides this type of thing atm so its not like im hurting for money.

also i wouldnt have to cosplay only homestuck but a) im lazy and b) ive never loved anything the way ive loved homestuck so i kind of wouldnt want to betray my brand(tm)

(but if i wasnt going to cosplay only homestuck, which might be a good idea since idk how much homestuck the person i’d be going with is doing, i’d probably do taako.)

SL 4 with @TurningEternal and @WinterBlood_

                         Christian:

Sean and I stood at the edge of the property, a cool fog surrounding us. Across the way was my father and uncles, dressed in druid robes, steady as statues. It wasn’t lost on me that if the fae world--MacKayla Lane--hadn’t intruded on my life, that I’d be standing amongst them right now. Long robes would cloak a six-foot frame instead of a seven-foot one. Hands that could create protection and love would press together, instead of extinguishing it. And the only wings around would be a Scottish crossbill. If it was possible, Sean was standing even more still than the others. It was as if he feared simply breathing would spread poisonous spores that would suck their life force out like the shadow creatures in Dublin.

“The others should be along shortly,” my father’s eyes didn’t quite meet mine.

“Aye,” I whispered. I had wondered why Dageus and Winter would sneak off together, but I suspected it had something to do with his knowledge of The Nine’s spellwork and the snaw fae’s knowledge of the Silvers. They probably were ensuring our relic would stand the test of time.

Suddenly a roar sounded from over the hill.

“Ryodan…” I growled. Why was he here? He had created this mess, I wasn’t about to let him clean it up. This was druid business, the Silvers and the doorways to faery had always been /our/ jurisdiction. He and his pack had simply carved out doggie-doors for themselves and assumed pissing all over made them residents as much as the rest of us. Not likely.

But the monster that crested the grassy field was not Ryodan.

“Dageus?”

He was not alone. A second animal was with him, a magnificent creature with dark skin and white fur. Massive, muscular legs carried a brute that rivaled my uncle. Eyes that matched my own and Sean’s, opalescent and multi-colored, searched the tall grass. Spotting us, they loafed down, the ground vibrating as they approached under the elephantine weight. 

                         Winter:

She’d baited the beasty to chase her through the forest, swatted at his rump and tugged on his tail until he was as playful as she. It was not appropriate perhaps, dire times on the horizon and all but she was in the need for something lighthearted and bright. Needed something to drive away the emptiness inside that gaped, missing piece growing more and more each day. She felt as if the wind blew it was sweep right through her but in this form she was able to ignore it, her mind taken by the more basic instincts. It wasn’t that she was less aware standing tall, fur covering her from head to toe but that she could allow herself to drift. So she chased and played until Dageus nipped and nudged, telling her it was time. Pushing her to the clearing, to responsibility and potentially home. 

The Druids and Princes were easy to find, obvious in the valley, their scent loud and thrilling. She tugged at Dageus’s tail and jumped over him as he turned to snap at her, looking over her furred shoulder at him to grin with sharp teeth. Her body moved easily in this form, or perhaps it was less inhibited so the wind carried her, icy breeze transporting her before the Princes and the Druids. The fog turning white with snow as she stood, a grin on her face as she stood taller than Chrisitan, purposefully looking down on him as her white fur began to recede. She slimmed and shrank as blue skin was bared, turning to stripes and then branches of veins on pale skin while she stood proud, nude. Dageus grouching beside her as she stood proud, naked skin shining within the fog. 

                        Christian:

As the humongous, furry pair of animals bound their way down the field to where we stood, my eyes grew wide. Dageus was easy to recognize, but it took a few seconds to place his companion. Until she stopped in front of me, dwarfing my Unseelie form, and locked eyes with mine, sending a frosted chill down my spine. It was Winter. She was a snowy figure, a giant downy creature with glowing eyes and talons that scraped up dirt with every step. Then with a shimmer, she began to shrink, to peel away the layers of the glorious beast she had transformed into, changing back, shifting again, to her human form. 

My uncles averted their eyes, turning away as her woolly exterior shed and smooth, naked skin was revealed. Even Dageus gave his back to shudder and shrink down. I did no such thing, refusing to blink for fear of missing a single moment of her hypnotic mutation. Unseelie Princes felt no shame, we were literal sex gods. If it weren’t for the Sidhbha-jai turning mortals to wet, moaning slaves, I’d never wear clothes.

Sean stood next to me, a look of satisfaction on his face. He was enjoying this as well, his royal allure unmuted and calling out like a Siren. My arm shot out, elbow kicking back and into the middle of his face.

“Fuck!” he howled and turned away, spitting blood. “You dick.”

I shot him a glance that screamed /Get control of yourself, or I’ll do it for you./  Then my wings came down and around, shielding the snaw fae from the others in a darkened blanket of feathers.

“Do you have clothes with you, bonnie lass?”

                        Winter:

She breathed in deeply, feeling her ribs expand and her muscles stretch. There was power crackling under her skin from the shift, from the fun. It was as if the short time of playfulness in a form that was little magic and all instinct had recharged her. She felt lovely. Powerful. Nearly whole. And perhaps it was the winter fog that stroked her bare skin or the magic of this land but there was hope within her. 

With a pleased smile, she swept her hand through the fog and looked at the men around her, amusement dimpling the corners of her mouth as she saw the prudish druids averting their gazes. Even Dageus turned his back as his body shifted between forms, a louder more painful transition than her own. But it was the heat of the stranger, an obvious Prince whom she could only assume was Sean, that drew her attention. That look, pure Unseelie Prince, was soon interrupted by a sharp elbow to the face. Laughter bubbled up like music at the sight of his disgruntled face, filling the valley around them until Her Prince shrouded her in his wings. 

Her giggles slipped away when those dark, beautiful wings curled around her. They took her laughter away, her breath, as the shine of her moon pale skin reflected off the midnight feathers. Her fingers reached out to touch along the soft edges of his lovely feathers, a hum sounding at the back of her throat, bright eyes slipping to the side to glance at him. “Violent.” She smirked before slipping a hand between the fold of his wings to snatch her cloak from the air, pulling it into this private space. “And what would you do if I did not have my clothing?” 

                        Christian:

She was like a white dove in a midnight sky, a tiny silver ice-fae dancing across the mossy green forest inside my wings. A sharp wind lifted and spun around us, but inside my nest all was calm, as if a summer night for the dewy glow of Winter’s skin. Her soft laugh tickled my subconscious as if I’d heard it before somewhere. At times the imprints of Unseelie Princes past drifted to the surface, and I had a feeling I was sensing the King’s creation more than a true memory of my own. Her gentle teasing lifted a subtle laugh from my chest.

“I imagine I’d lend you my shirt, lass. Or send Dageus to retrieve your clothes wherever you left them among the trees.”

I always knew the snaw fae was more than just her human form, but I’d not considered this. She was absolutely breathtaking, a beast that stood taller than even me. My lips turned down in a scowl. No wonder Ryodan had attached himself to her like a lost puppy. No wonder she tolerated that fool with such patience. Observing Winter and Dageus scampering about the hillside gave me way too many images of what her and Ryodan might do in animal form. Well. He’d betrayed her the moment he sealed up the Silvers. Now /I/ would make it right.

“Are you ready to begin, lass?”

                        Winter:

Her fingers plucked at his shirt with a sly smile but she just shook her head, still floating on the high of amusement and beastie playfulness. 

“A Prince who wants clothing. Curious.” She winked, teasing further to try and ease the frown that suddenly marred Christian’s features. There was no doubt it was from his own thoughts, not her or her nudity. Such a serious man. Shaking her head slightly she dressed in her shift and cloak, quickly braiding her hair back, away from her face. She took these moments to compose herself, gathering her seriousness and settling into this moment. It was time to leave the playfulness behind and focus on opening her home. On dragging that sickness from her Silvers. Saving herself and those lands. 

“Yes.” Her head tilted down slightly, tri colored eyes closing for a moment of reflection or perhaps prayer before sweeping a hand over the Prince’s wings. Silently asking for them to part and free her from the dark refuge. “Let us begin.”

                        Christian:

A dozen feet of black feathers peeled back in each direction to reveal Winter to my uncles once again. Sean’s nose had likely healed by now, no telling on his mood. I glanced his way just enough to see that he had clasped his hands in front of his body and was standing back a few feet. Aye. Better. My uncles, Dageus included, were standing in formation among the stones, hands free from the deep pockets of their cloaks and eyes bright.

“Together we will open a singular path to the Silvers, and Winter will draw the disease forth. It will seek her, especially if this is the only route available. Sean will absorb the virus and hold it within himself until we can bind it to the relic. Then we'll release the rest of the Silvers, opening the doorways again. Are we clear.”

I looked around, saving Winter for last. The idea of using her as bait made my stomach ache, but we had more than enough raw power between the druids, two Unseelie Princes, and the snaw fae to control this spoiled creature. I nodded infinitesimally to her, as if to say, “You are safe here, bonnie lass.”

Then my uncles began the incantation.

                        Winter:

Now that she was free of Christian’s wings she felt dread like a heavy stone in her stomach, squeezing at her chest until she almost struggled to breathe. That thing was going to be coming for her again, going to touch and poison. She didn’t listen to what the Prince was saying only stared at where the silvers would open, where the darkness would come. Her gaze shifted to the other Prince, Sean, the one that would take the darkness in on himself and save her home. Those blue eyes turned to Christian, his gaze on her, comforting and warm. What had he told Sean about his part in this? And did she care? No. 

Her chin dipped down slightly in a nod and her chest rose slow and steady as she drew in a centering breath. She pulled from the cold around them, drawing the fog to her for power and control. She’d become a beacon for that thing, call it to her with the lure of power. There was no doubt in her mind once the silvers were opened it would come straight for her. She could only hope it would not touch her, taint her. Not again. She nodded again, this time at the Druids before she pushed the fog forward, forming a focal point for the druids to use for an opening. Normally they would have a mirror of some sort but this would work, especially with the amount of power in this forest. 

                        Christian:

As the doorway to the Silver opened, it felt as if a light had gone on, calling me home. I wondered if Sean and Winter felt the same draw, the same connection to the Unseelie King’s world. The power it emanated gave me goosebumps, hair standing on end. My wings fluttered subtly, spreading wide behind me.

“What the…” my gaze narrowed. Something was coming straight for us from inside the Silver, but it wasn’t the disease. A black stare under even darker hair was locked on me, and a boiling rage slid up my spine. Without blinking, I pointed to my right, staring straight ahead. “Sean. Get over here and hold the doorway. When the disease shows itself, take it. Do not let it reach her.”

Without another word, I forged through into the Silver, hissing a misty breath into the fog. Why Ryodan was here, inside the Silver, meant either he had a hidden agenda or he’d been alerted somehow to our magic. If he meant to sneak around inside faery, I’d make sure he never escaped it. If he was here to stop us from cleansing the Silvers, he was in for a bloody surprise.

                        Winter:

Tears burned in her eyes as the Silvers opened, the void within her filling quickly, steadily. She was drowning in the sensation of being whole and strong again. Couldn’t barely breathe past the relief but she held her cool expression, kept her calm exterior. That is until the scent of Ryo wafted through the opening of the Silvers and her gaze found her through the mirror-like fog. Emotions warred within her, rage and grief both fighting to overpower the other. They’d known the Nine would be monitoring the Silvers somehow but that had not expected such a fast response. Did they keep a backdoor open for themselves? Or had they prepared for this when she’d escaped with Dageus? 

It didn’t matter now, Ryo was there and he’d try to stop them if he could. She moved forward, fog wrapping around her as her power sang at full force but it was Christian that stepped through the portal to meet the beast. Christian that ordered Sean to protect her. As if she wouldn’t go after him. She swept past Sean, frost creeping over his skin where his hand touched her but he didn’t let go, allowed himself to be pulled into her world. Her Silvers. 

The realms sang when her feet touched the ground and the wind whipped around them, pushing Ryodan back and away from the portal they had created and removing Sean’s grip from her arm. It embraced her and Christian, singing its warnings as darkness crept across the sky, grass beginning to brown and the trees of the surrounding forest withering as it crept closer, attracted by her and the surge of power that came from opening the Silvers once more. 

                        Christian:

I didn’t have to look back to know that Sean had failed at keeping Winter back and that she had now joined me. Faery chimed with a life and energy that only she could ignite. I felt it surge through me, drawing the Unseelie Prince forth and leaving Christian in the world we left behind. Ryodan was blasted back by it. By us, The Fae. It brought a toothy smile to my face, watching his eyes widen in surprise. Not many creatures could strongarm The Nine, Ryodan especially. And we’d just delivered a blast strong enough to knock him back just by entering the Silvers. Now he saw: This was /our/ world.

The storm clouds rolled in as he and I faced off, darkened sickness creeping forth as I knew it would once it could sense the snaw fae. A similar aura was pulsing behind me--Sean had forged his way into the Silver as well. Good man. Keeping his promise to protect Winter and take the sickness that infected her realm down.

That left me free to distract Ryodan while the others took care of things. Dare I say, it brought me joy to feel his fist connect with my face, to make his body bruise with each blow I delivered. He cranked my wing around, but I spun into the pull, wrapping him into a feathered cocoon that blinded him long enough to get my hands around his throat.

"That's quite a grip," he said. My fists tightened infinitesimally more. He shouldn't be speaking. "I'll have to tell Dani what a big boy you've become."

With a snarl, my fingers dug into the sides of his neck. He knew that name, that /woman/ had haunted me for years. I felt a warm blanket of blood begin to ooze down my hands.

                        Winter:

Her attention split between the two men and the haunting disease that crept across the horizon to meet them. She did not cower though fear gripped her, power crackled with her emotions, ice spreading from her bare feet and outwards to cover the entire grassy knoll which they stood. Moonbright skin sparkled, the blue of her veins standing out as brightly as the blue of her eyes. She was home and the Silvers pressed power into her, giving her the life the darkness tried to suck away. It was power she extended to Sean, fingers touching his damaged wings, skin and feathers forming along the tattered arches as her touch healed and invigorated the man. There was a life in his eyes, a purpose driven by her own need and a power in his body that pulled the attention of that darkness to him. Away from her long enough that her gaze moved to Christian and Ryo, her anger aimed the wind at the Beast. Ice and sharp winter air cutting at his skin, peeling flesh where she had scarred his left side. Adding to the blood already pooling from the Prince’s hands and giving lift to dark wings as they lifted the Prince and his victim into the air. 

She left them to it, breath catching as the heat of the darkness pulled the chill from her skin. 

                        Christian:

If Christian were here, he would have kept a watchful eye on Winter, on the bait set so perfectly within this plane to entice the inky disease drawing close. But the Scotsman was long gone now, Unseelie Prince taking full control and solely focused on the prey within his grasp. My fingers started to elongate, claws digging through the flesh of Ryodan’s neck. His monstrous hands swung out, boulder-sized fists beating at my sides, but just as quickly, my wings pumped hard, lifting my body up and out of his range. Now he hung from my grip, a noose too tight as his limbs flailed for purchase. The soft, glowing gaze of my immortality lit his face, eyes wide and bloodshot from lack of oxygen.

“I’ll be sure to drop your corpse on Dani’s doorstep when we’re through here,” I hissed, fangs bared to his.

BOOM.

My body flew backward, wings unable to catch me in time as I crashed down a few dozen yards away. Ryodan landed on two feet from where we once hovered, one hand holding the wide gashes in his neck, the other lowering a handgun--smoke still rising from the barrel.

“Cheater,” I snarled.

His mouth opened to speak, but a strange, inhuman noise drew both our attention away from one another. 

                        Winter:

It expanded as it came closer, an inky cloud of nothingness that took over the sky and land. It sucked the life from the land, the sky, tried pulling the life from her. Her silvers. It even muted the echoing crack of a gun, leaving them in near silence. The only sound that of the wind swirling, icy air circling the four protectively. She stood with her hands lifted, the grass frosted beneath their feet, air fogging from their breath as the darkness circles them. 

Fingerlike tendrils reaching out to touch their little bubble of winter and twitching back as bits froze and dropped to dust. It kept touching, kept trying, slamming into this barrier she held until a circle of its remains surround them. Still it came. Weakening her with each push, shrieking in the silence. Demanding. Wanting. She felt its need, its greed.

Her eyes, white with lightning streaks of blue, flicked to Sean. He was remade, standing tall and healed, wrapped in Princely pride and power. Confident. There was even a bit of a smile of the normally sullen features as he gave a nod before stepping in front of her, wings spreading out as one of her hands dropped. Wind rushed inwards, a tornado of winter swirling around them as she let half her barrier drop. Within moments the darkness rushed in, pulled in by the rush of air inward and forced towards Sean. 

She didn’t know how his power worked, how the King had designed this creation but one this disease touched the Prince it was drawn in. She watched in horror as it fought the magnetic pull, as that inky darkness tried to pull away from Sean’s skin. As it was absorbed into him, sucked away until there was nothing left of it but the shadow beneath his skin. It was quiet after. Not the overpowering silence of that haunting thing but the quiet of death. The grass was left darkened and flat, the trees hollowed out and grey, creatures missing from this land. Even the thrum of lift she normally felt beneath her feet was muted. It broke something within her to feel her home, her Silvers so weak. She drew in a deep breath, air catching in her throat as anger and grief swirled within her. She wanted pain and death. Wanted more than this silence, wanted more than the ease of which Sean drew the disease into himself. She wanted blood on her hands and screams in her ears. Those white eyes turned towards Ryodan as he still stood, staring at Sean and she started towards him, cloak slipping off her shoulders as her skin started to darken into a deep blue. She wanted his blood. His screams. Wanted to feed him to her Silvers for strength. 

                        Christian:

Both Ryodan and I watched in horror as the monstrous bacteria poked and prodded its way inside the cocoon of ice Winter had built up around us. We were too far away to reach her, it was simple physics. But the broad chest of Sean appeared, blocking the snaw fae with his mighty chest and wings. He looked...more alive than I’d ever seen him, his hands out and ready to catch the disease as it nose-dived for Winter. As the darkness cloaked him, trying to pull back from the magnetism that he used to merge himself with the sickness, it squealed and shrieked in terror. But Sean was Disease, a Horseman, and an Unseelie Prince. We held all the power these Silvers bore, and soon it was all over, his body twitching as the virus succumbed to the pull and settled beneath his skin.

I crawled to my feet, chest sore from the bullet that had penetrated my organs. My wings dragged behind me, body intent on conserving all available energy to heal. Next to me, Ryodan had yanked off a sleeve from his shirt, using it to try and clot the bleeding from his neck. His head jerked back as we all saw Winter take off towards him, murderous intent in her eyes as sharp as the icy chill that ran down my spine.

With a yell, I ordered my uncles to complete the spell, opening all Silvers once again. I inserted myself between Winter and Ryodan, catching her at a full sprint in my arms, using my wings to catch us from falling like a parachute. Ryodan was smart enough to leap out of the way. And Sean, in full sync with his fellow Unseelie Prince now, drew a freshly opened Silver towards us and sent Ryodan through it with a swift kick to the gut. Then we withdrew, Sean leading the way and myself with Winter in my arms, all the way back out onto the grassy fields of Scotland. It was only there, once I had the snaw fae safely out of the circle of Druids and across the way from Sean, did I release her.

                        Winter:

She snarled and fought as she was caught in the arms of her prince, head tilting back as she slipped to mid-shift and mouth opening on a banshee’s scream. She was overwhelmed with anger, with grief at the weakness of her home, with the power that now surged through her after such a period without. There was a storm that raged inside of her, wanting to be free and released and she was held back from aiming that turmoil towards the person that betrayed her. That cut away a piece of her and left her home vulnerable and dying. 

Dagger like claws cut at Christian and her razor teeth bit into the flesh of his arm as she fought, only settling when removed from the Silvers and the scent of humans, of the druids, pierced her raging. Then she collapsed, claws become nails as her beastly blue skin paled to snow white but they still dug into him, her teeth still caught at his flesh as she shuddered. Still caught in a storm of emotion, tears of rage freezing down her cheeks. And perhaps tears of relief. They were wiped aside as she was released, her back turned to Sean and the druids, facing Christian only. 

“You denied me his blood.” She wanted to taste it, feel it. Ryodan deserved to give a life for what he had done to her, to the Silvers. She was no longer blinded by the pure rage but she was distracted with the need, too distracted to truly notice anything outside of herself and the Prince. 

                        Christian:

I understood the need for revenge, for vengeance when wronged by another. I’d spent many nights obsessed with tearing down the Crimson Hag for the months of torture she bestowed upon me. I wanted to pick her a part, cell by cell, as she had me, then watch her slowly regenerate, only to be flayed again when healed enough. Winter would have her day with Ryodan eventually. But right now, we couldn’t spare any other distractions or else risk our work becoming undone. There could be more of the Nine coming through the Silvers. It wasn’t worth the risk.

As I carefully let go of Winter, her claws and teeth kept her attached to my body. She’d clamped down like an angry wolf, unwilling to let go of whatever creature was foolish enough to allow himself to be caught by her. Folly I embraced in this moment, cupping her snowy skin to tilt her head up towards me. My blood lingered on her lips, which I carefully thumbed away. 

“Denied you his blood, aye. Take mine instead, snaw fae.”

Knowing the beast she could become enticed the Unseelie Prince lurking below the surface. Knowing the blood she could spill with ease--aye, those teeth had cut through my flesh with latent violence that was reserved for the most cunning of creatures. Knowing she wished to punish Ryodan for his betrayal sent a rush of desire through my veins. My mouth opened to suggest she take out every blood-thirsty urge on me instead. Ryodan didn’t deserve her touch, loving or ferocious. Instead, a strange silence caught my attention instead. My uncles had finished and were waiting quietly with Sean on the other side of the circle.

                        Winter:

She snapped at his finger like a feral animal, ragged, icy puffs of air escaping as she tried to go for his throat. She wanted more of the blood that coated her teeth and tongue, that warmed the tips of her fingers and painted crimson lines along her pale skin. But his attention shifted from her, pulling a grunt of annoyance from her. Her gaze, still a glowing white, shifted to find what had taken away her Prince’s attention, a crackling growl ripping from her throat at the sight of another Prince, of the druids. All having been forgotten in this moment with the Unseelie that touched and held her.  

Logic prodded at the animal haze that had blanketed her mind and her head pulled back, away from his touch, blue bleeding back into her eyes as her sides heaved. Deep, calming breaths forced into her lungs as she was caught under the wary gazes of the MacKeltar clan. And Sean, interest in the now healthy and healed Prince’s gaze. It was with difficulty that she pulled her cold facade back into place as she gripped her bloody hands in tight fists and fought down the need to pin Her Prince to the ground. To sink her teeth into his flesh once more and feel his violence. His blood. To fight. To fuck. Her gaze cut back to Christian, swaying towards him slightly before she slowly and deliberately moved away. Her tongue curling out over her teeth to suck away his blood, tip of her tongue touching the corners of her mouth to lick it clean before she forced her focus on the now. On finishing what they had all started. 

She straightened, shoulders going back and chin lifted slightly before she slipped out of Christian’s orbit and towards the others. There was a fog that blanketed the knoll and it rushed up to curl around her legs and cling to the skirt of her dress as she walked back into the circle. The wind rushed through the trees to twist around her, winding between the druids and then around Sean. Her brow furrowed at the forest’s odd behavior but it didn’t stop her from reaching out, fingers brushing over the horseman’s forearm. They would need skin contact to focus the disease into an artifact, she’d heard of his lack of control. His hatred for his new self. And before he would have been weak, picked apart by his own fingers. Now he surged with power. And when her fingers touched his skin the darkness surged as well. His flesh blackened and rippled, inky tendrils trying to force out of his skin to grip at her fingers and hand. The wind caught dark, recently healed wings and forced them open and filled them with air. The fog rushed up, icy and thick to hide her from his view. She was pushed back and away from the Darkness and Disease before it could touch her, infect her. 

                        Christian:

It was with great restraint that my hands stayed at my sides, wings down, feet planted as Winter moved away from me and towards the others. The urge to trap her in my embrace and disappear for a few hours--nights--weeks--of indulgence, of raw fucking that would strip us both bare was almost too much for both the Scotsman and the Unseelie Prince. They stared one another down inside my psyche, measuring up, daring the other to step up and dominate. 

Which is how at first I missed what was happening. Winter had moved back into the circle to assist my uncles and Sean placing the fae disease into the relic we chose. As she drew close to Disease, the forest rebelled, swirling wind and fog rushing around her form. Sean’s hand reached for her, his veins black under his skin, the darkness pulsing hard to meet her. It slipped out through the pores of his skin, entrails dancing towards her, happy to find home in her flesh once again.

Then the atmosphere shifted, a thick cloud closing them off from each other, the moorish storm pushing the snaw fae back from danger. I was there in an instant, in between the threat and Winter.

“You cannae touch her, Sean,” I said to him, an arm up at the ready to defend if needed. But he had managed to hold his control, shoulders back and wings flaccid. This was a predicament. We needed Winter to help implant the sickness, but she couldn’t touch Sean or it would escape into her form once again. That could not happen.

I looked over at my uncles, their expressions flustered and without answers.

“I can hold it,” Sean said suddenly.

My head spun back around. “Are you sure? Just hours ago you were weak with your own self-pity. And now you are strong enough to contain this darkness?”

“Yes,” his head lifted. There was something more to him since we entered the Silvers. He’d found an anchor of some sort, a focus to keep him from descending over the cliffs into madness.

“Is that… can he do that?” I looked back to my uncles, glancing briefly at Winter.

“He is Disease,” my father lifted his shoulders. He wasn’t sure. Neither was I.  I looked back at Winter.

“What do you say, snaw fae?” I asked her. “Your word is all that matters.”

                        Winter:

It was like a switch had been flicked. The rage and thirst for blood had already been tamped down when she forced herself away from Her Prince but it nearly disappeared when that darkness almost touched her. Though her heart hammered against her chest and her fingers were clamped around where that sickness almost touched her, the mask of cool indifference was firmly in place. Her wintery gaze roamed over Sean, weighing his strength and worth and ignoring the sick, twisted sensation that swam through her. She would not be distracted by the possibility of being infected once more. Of being weak and feverish.

Instead, she imagined the darkness moving within this Prince, the Horseman. Pestilence and disease reincarnated. She imagined it was staring back at her from its new confines, could feel its gaze on her skin. It was then that she saw it for what it was, a growing, living creature. Another creation of Father’s and the Unseelie realm. She knew, it had grown too fat and greedy to be held within the relic they had chosen and it would not lie dormant. It would fight its confines and needed a cage that would fight back.  

Tricolored, blue eyes shifted to focus on Sean’s face for a moment before they turned to Christian, allowing herself to move a step back as an excuse to focus on Her Prince. She was not trying to distance herself from the disease or its prison. No. She moved back one more step, fingers pressing against her skin, imagining she could feel the warmth of that near touch. “We healed him, the Silvers and I. His body is strong enough to hold this sickness, we can only hope his mind is strong enough to fight it.”

When my daughter was 16 we went to a child therapist because my daughter was having so much trouble with depression.  When Sydney left the room, she took me she said “You know, I was one of the child therapists that assisted in providing care for the children from the LDS cult of Warren Jeffs.   I’ve worked a lot with children from strict religious backgrounds.  The children who had strict clothing rules were actually well adjusted.  You know why?  Because that’s all they saw.  They were in an enclosed environment, so the clothing issue was not damaging to them.    But your church is trying to live that way in the middle of a big city where the kids are sent to school, and other places looking completely different from everyone around them.  While that may be your church beliefs, your leaders should reconsider what they are putting their children through by doing this, and the damage it can cause in some children.”

 Boom! That stuck with me.  Why were we constantly throwing our kids into an opposite environment and then criticizing them for wanting to be like the society around them?

My husband and I told my daughter that if we had to do it all over again, that’s one of the things he would change.  He’d let her wear pants, let her figure out her own identity and life at the time that she needed to–adolescence. If she got saved and God wanted to show her, he would be faithful to show her about what she needs to wear.  To finally talk about this helped her come to grips with a lot of deep anger she had toward us and some of the cause of her suffering as a teenager.   She said that although our realizations came too late for her she was glad we were independent enough to finally see these things and listen.

The principle of modesty in the heart is more important than forcing children to wear particular clothing items.

Although I called myself explaining our clothing standards with I Timothy 2:9, the more I studied my bible, the more I realized that little was said about clothing and that modest apparel did not confine itself to a particular clothing item.  What is modest in 2019 is not the same as what was modest in 1919 or 1819.   What was modest in 1940 would not be the same as today.  Modest in the bible (the word Kosmio) means orderly, appropriate, decent.  That’s it.   Decent with what is appropriate for surroundings.  Would a young Christian girl mar her testimony by wearing a pair of jeans?  Would that be controversial to the people she’s trying to reach for God? In 2019?  No.

  Jesus Is Our Perfect Example

Consider this, Jesus never gave any clothing rules to the men and women that followed him,  and his appearance/clothing was common for his day.   When we turn to the epistles, we see the Apostle Paul addressing immediate issues of various congregations as well as preaching gospel principles.  One of them was modest apparel, but in this passage, he also spoke against elaborately braided hair the women of that day wore and expensive clothing. None of us are running around looking at each other price tags, are we?  When he spoke in ancient times, he was talking about this:

Women of the day wore hair as a social status.  Our church focused on the term modest and attached to wearing what they considered sexually alluring clothing items (and some dresses can be alluring as well) this included all pants, not even coulottes were acceptable. Paul’s focus in this passage was extremism in clothing and ladies showing off social status through dress and hairstyles. 

I’m sure that both boys and girls went through their struggles with rules.  But the girls had to be perfectly unalluring –“cover up everything.”(even down to sleeve lengths).   Couldn’t put any pressure on those men to keep their eyes in their head and not lust.  What a weak Jesus this presents to people.   The responsibility was all on the woman to cover up.

My husband said this ” I always wondered why I could walk down the street and see women in pants every day and not lust at all, but when I came to church the women would be accused of being inappropriate and too alluring if they wore pants because they would be too much of a temptation to men.   I saw women every day dressed like this and so did all the men in our church, but we were not struggling.  And honestly, if any man was struggling just by seeing women in pants, they had a bigger, more serious problem than what the woman was wearing”.

Someone who obviously had influence in our group decided what modesty meant for everyone and although that may have been appropriate 50 years ago to say all skirts, it may not be today.

 Modesty is still a biblical principle but it takes prayer to assess what that means in an increasingly immodest world.

The older ones in our group have told me that when all that healing going on in the 60s, etc., they wore pants gardening or when they were doing rough things.  How it got to no pants– never, ever —is a mystery.

A woman in the 1800s would have been immodest for showing her legs, but showing her shoulders or back was not a problem. 

As we progress through time and women worked more, clothing changed primarily after WWII. Pants became part of women’s wardrobe.

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Look at this crowd at a baseball game in the 1950s can you imagine men and women going to a sporting event in suits and ties?  But that was society back then that was appropriate attire. ( Think I see a woman with fur on her coat!??)

  The point is what is appropriate and decent in society changes.

My Thoughts

I think after a while in our church it became a cult of personalities.  Prayer and seeking God about matters went to the background and just doing what the most popular preacher and his wife said took its place.  In fact, it seemed to take precedence over the Spirit of God.   Why couldn’t a parent pray and decide what their child should do or where?  I thought we were all to be led by the Spirit?  I don’t know when that happened and where, but I know in the last 20 years it got exceedingly worse where it was held with no compassion or consideration at all.  Just measure or you will be ostracized.

For example, a Pastor that I know of that was a functioning Elder stated that he didn’t have a problem with modest makeup and jewelry was immediately cut off by some of his people and they started another church.  He held this belief the whole time he was ministering to them.  No doubt he was a blessing to them or he would not have been ordained.  His Pastor knew that he felt this way and out of respect to the Pastor he didn’t spread his views, but when that Pastor died and he was put in charge he was honest to the people about his beliefs, and that was the end of that fellowship.

I can’t tell you as a minister how many women I’ve talked to that didn’t even have strong convictions about some of our rules, but conformed to keep the peace or so they could continue to hold positions and exercise the gifts God gave them.

The truth is our group does not trust God to lead people, and they are fearful of any change even if its change from the Holy Ghost, and even if it no longer can be explained or is beneficial to the gospel.  Change is hard,  I know, but this is just one of the things that traumatized not only my daughter but judging by the texts that I’ve received, it hurt others as well.

I’m Glad We’re Being Honest

Even at 23 years old, this issue of control and being bullied for what she wore was a tough conversation for my baby because it went into the depths of her feelings about her herself, her childhood, and the unsaid message she received that her goal in life was to please other people and worry about what others think.

The church made her feel like what she needed never mattered.  She got the message that she was not important.  The church made her fit in without a sense of belonging or having a voice, and that’s never good.

  A Word About Women’s Clothing When my daughter was 16 we went to a child therapist because my daughter was having so much trouble with depression.