#Vekna

[stylized-corpse]

Vekna @ The Moose Lodge - 04/27/2024

[pikslasrce]

posts with a target audience of 3

[cringelordofchaos]

guys is it bad that I can actually relate to 001/Vecna from Stranger Things 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 like. A lot 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

[bymarara]

Will and the Boys Don't Cry.

Remember the picture when we were first shown Will on his birthday? In case anyone hasn't noticed, there were headphones in the picture and let's think, who else was wearing headphones and under what circumstances? Uh, Max! Max wore them so that she wouldn't fall under the full influence of Vecna and become his victim, music helped her so called survival.

Now let's get to why Will carries them around. I have two suggestions.

Everyone on the team has headphones now just in case Vecna decides to face someone.

Will is scared. Will himself realizes that he can feel Vecna's presence, in addition he will probably hear him, his voice and his thoughts, which will be very frightening to Byers. Because of the fear, he may choose his favorite song and walk around with headphones on at all times, so that if anything happens, he won't be influenced by Vekna and Vekna won't take over Will's mind. I also think that there will be a similar situation as with Lumax, that Mike will have to turn on these headphones in case of anything, I think Will will warn him alone about it all, thus trusting Mike.

Now something I've been thinking about very, very hard. Most people, and I think or thought that Will's song would be “Should I Stay or Should I Go”, but if you notice the details, you can see the poster in Will's room! “Boys don't cry”, this song references Will in a lot of ways, and if it's in season 5 in his headphones, it will be very symbolic, and will show the meaning of everything we've seen.

Let's take Max as an example. She has “Running Up That Hill” in her headphones. The lines from the song literally refer to what Max is feeling and it also shows how she feels about Billy and how she regrets what happened at the end of season 3 and how she would take it all back. The chorus from her song, literally speaks to Max's morale and what she wants. -And if I only could, I'd make a deal with God, And I'd get him to swap our places, Be running up that road, Be running up that hill, Be running up that building. If I only could, oh These lines literally refer to the fact that if Max had known what would happen, she would not have stood still, but would have tried to help her half-brother. She would have been ready even for the same death as her brother, as long as he did not die. Also, there are very interesting lines like.

“You don't want to hurt me,but see how deep the bullet lies.” which refers to their relationship while Billy was alive. The guy hurt his sister, which she hasn't forgotten, and that deep down inside of her, she wished him dead inside of her, which she now regrets.

What about Will? I know most people have already figured this out, but for those who haven't and don't know the context - this song is about the inner thoughts that guys have when they're going through an unpleasant/transitional moment in their lives. It's also popular in the LGBT+ community. Let's go through the parts that I find most interesting and start from the beginning. -I would say I'm sorry, If I thought that it would change your mind. But I know that this time, I have said too much. Somehow it reminds me a lot of Will helping Mike with his relationship with Al, while ignoring his feelings and even confessing his feelings while hiding under his sisters name. Also, I think there's a season five reference here. I mean, Will could talk about the painting and the speech, but not say what he meant about his feelings! And the lines “I would say I'm sorry if I thought that it would change your mind.” show that Mike could have left with some anger and it left a mark on Will and that he can't even apologize now, and that apologizing won't change anything. (Yes, I know I sound creepy, please.) Now let's get to the chorus. -I tried to laugh about it,

Cover it all up with lies. I tried to laugh about it, Hiding the tears in my eyes. Cause boys don't cry. Boys don't cry. Sounds like Will's confession to Mike to me. He's not showing his real feelings, he's hiding everything under the “Al” mask. and underneath the mask, he keeps his feelings hidden, not showing them. He himself, quietly crying, quietly suffering, realizing for himself that his feelings will never be reciprocated, that he will have to live with it and come to terms with it, and he buries it all by himself and tries to cope with it all by himself. -I would tell you, That I loved you, If I thought that you would stay. But I know that it's no use, That you've already, Gone away… Again he says that he has buried all his hopes and feelings, he sees Mike pulling away from him and as if he is walking away from him, so talking about feelings, about declarations of love is useless in his opinion. Literally the whole song shows Will, shows a guy who in his opinion has already missed his chance, he realizes that he can't change anything and hides himself and his feelings only deeper into himself.

I hope that Will will have this song in season 5, but I will also say that there is a possibility that in case of anything, Mike can play this song, so much in this song refers to Mike.

[strawberryspence]

Eddie,

Dear Eddie,

Eddie fucking Munson,

Yeah. Hello. It's me. Steve Harrington.

Jesus. This is so weird.

Max just got out of the hospital today. It's surreal to think that it's been six months since Spring Break and she's only getting out today. The doctors said there's gonna be a long road ahead of her but that's okay, right? What's important is that there's a road ahead of her.

Anyway, the day Max got Vekna-ed Vecna-ed (Dustin just corrected my spelling. I think Vekna sounds better.), she wrote us letters. Just in case she… bites the dust. When she woke up, she told us we could read it if we wanted. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I burned it the moment she woke up. She told me (Just me specifically) that I should try it. When I asked who I should write to, she smiled and started humming a Metallica song. Which is fucking wild that I even knew that she was humming Disposable Heroes.

Robin told me I wasn’t good at dealing with my grief. That instead of letting the wound heal, I just let it scab and hurt. Which— I hate the word grief. Because I hate grief, you know?

You don’t know this, but Barbara Holland died in my backyard and Nancy… Nancy still mourns her to this day. I don’t think she’ll ever stop mourning her. A few months back, we talked. Dude, I know what you’re going to say and No, we are not getting back together. I let her smash bottles of beer in my empty pool. We cried and screamed until we were both exhausted. I asked her this question that’s been running through my mind for months now.

What the hell is grief?

Nancy smiled at me. She told me that she had a hard time trying to learn what grief is, that at first she thought it was anger and disappointment and hatred. But she told me (after a few minutes because Nancy also loves dramatic pauses. I think you guys have that in common), that it’s actually just love. Just love. With no place else to go.

And you know what? Fuck that. She’s the smartest person I know but she was wrong. Fuck that.

This grief I have for you, it can’t be love right? How could I love someone I barely even knew? It’s nothing but disappointment that I couldn’t have done more. It’s nothing but pure fucking rage that you didn’t fucking listen to me when I told you to run. It’s nothing but hatred from the fact that you did this when you could’ve lived.

I don’t care if you felt like a coward. You should’ve been a coward because at least you would still be alive. I wouldn’t be writing this letter if you were alive.

I hate you. I goddamn fucking hate you for every decision you’ve made that night.

But Eddie…

Eddie, I need you to get up and tell me what to do. I am begging you to get up and tell me what to do. I don’t care how you do it, just do it. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do without you. Which is fucking ridiculous, because I didn’t know you. But I need you here. Right now.

We’re done with the Upside Down forever. We’re done with it. Everyone’s moving on, moving forward. And I… I still sleep with your vest. How could I be sad over something I never even had in the first place?

Robin’s giving me weird looks. She’s telling me that I could talk to her about anything. I know. I know I can. But I wanted you to be the first to know. Apparently, I am gay. Maybe half gay because I like both. Fucking Eddie Munson, you’re dead and you’re still giving me a sexuality crisis.

I think… I think I am mourning the fact that we could’ve been friends, and if I am being delusional, maybe even more. Dustin won’t stop talking about you these days. I think it’s his way of keeping you alive. If I’m being honest, I hate it. Because I am falling in love with a memory.

I… I miss you. I wish there was a way I could send this to wherever you are, so you could write back and tell me that it’s going to be okay. That someday I would forgive myself for everything I did and did not do, that someday it wouldn’t hurt this much anymore.

Max was right. I’ll write more in the future.

I wish you were here.

Sincerely,

Yours,

Fuck you,

Steve Harrington.

06/13/86

—

Steve laughs as he carefully closes the old letter— stained with tears and age, some crumpling and tearing on the edges— and slips it back to the envelope. The envelope is yellow at the edges, showing its true age.

“God, I was so mad.” Steve says, his hand finding the cold headstone. His fingers tracing the name inscribed on the marble. After a few years, after the town of Hawkins eventually forgot everything, the Party got Eddie a headstone in the cemetery. It’s a funeral ten years too late, but it brought closure to everyone that needed it. Wayne, included.

“You want me to read my newest letter?” Steve asks the empty space. Steve takes the newer envelope from the picnic basket he packed, opening it carefully and taking a deep breath.

“Dearest Eddie,” Steve smiles at the stone. He thinks of Eddie, the only image he always conjures when he misses him. He thinks of Eddie, hair wet and face grimy from having fought bats for a person he barely knew. He thinks back to that Eddie, big brown eyes and teasing smile.

He looks down at the letter and continues reading, “I am writing this letter before I go visit you. Spring has been good to us. I’ve been trying to plant more and I think it’s going great. Dustin’s been bugging me to get some exercise. Can you believe that? He said it’ll be good for my old bones. Or some shit like that. He’s still a disrespectful little shit. I do find joy over the fact that Edward is a jock. Dustin Henderson? Has a jock kid? It’s the best thing in my life. El loves joking about it. We’re just thankful the kid doesn't have powers.”

“The Byers-Wheelers are doing pretty good too. Will sent us this really funny picture of Mike in a tutu as the twins practice beside him. It feels like only yesterday Will came out to Robin and me. You remember that right? I think I wrote it in one of my letters. Will still tells me that you and him could’ve been really good friends, and I believe him.”

“The Sinclairs are planning to travel across the country this Summer. We did have a few laughs when the “Winnebago” dream came up. Elena’s going through a rebellious teenage phase, and I just think it’s funny that she stole their car to drive to me. She really is her mother’s daughter.”

“As for Argyle and Jon, last I heard they were in Montana. They’ll come back down for the holidays, but they live their lives on the down low. Aside from Jon’s very active instagram account, they do write through emails. Robin and Nance are in Europe right now. They wanted me to come, but you know I can’t leave Arwen. She could be forty and married, and I’d still stay by her side. She has this concert coming up, and I want to stay and make sure it goes well.”

“I still think it’s funny that I adopted her at a random adoption office, because it still feels like she chose me rather than I chose her. Sometimes, I still let myself be delusional. If I squint hard enough, I could see it. With the way she plays the guitar, or the way she talks nerdy with her uncles. It’s like you were right there when she was growing up, right there beside me, helping raise her. Now that Arwen’s older, she understands it now. Why I never got married.”

“It’s been 36 years since you left. It doesn’t feel that long ago. I know you know this already, but sometimes I still reach out for your vest at night. It doesn’t smell like you anymore, not at all. I still remember it though. Like cigarettes and weed and the damn forest. Sometimes I’ll get a random whiff of something similar in public, something remotely close, and I’ll smile. Because I just know that’s you, being a creep and checking in on us.”

“In the hundreds of letters I’ve written in the last few years, I don’t think I’ve ever said it.”

Steve chokes as he reads the next few lines, “I think I’ll be okay, Eddie. I am sorry it took me this long to say it, but I hope you’re resting well now. I think we’ll meet again in a few more years, maybe another 20? What’s another 20, right? I can wait. When we meet again, we can spend an eternity together if you’ll have me. We’ll do everything we want to do. Just… wait for me, okay, Eds?”

“I’ll be back soon. Love always, Steve.” Steve slowly closes the letter, slipping it back to the envelope.

Steve sits in silence. Just listening to the birds chirp, just basking in the sunlight.

“Dad!” Steve turns to see Arwen climbing the hills, waving her hands as she jogs over to him.

“Hi, peanut.” He greets her when she’s finally close enough.

“Hi. I am sorry to interrupt.” She looks at the headstone with pain before turning to him, “Are you almost done? We have to be back to Indianapolis by four.”

“Yeah, I think I am done. I can come back some other time.”

Arwen helps him up, his knees creaking with age, “Give us a few more minutes, hm? I’ll follow you.”

Arwen nods, smiling before turning to the grave, patting it gently like it’s an actual person, “I promise to visit some other time, Eddie. I’ll play you this new song I’m writing.” She kisses Steve’s cheeks before running back to the car.

“I wish I could stay longer. But she’s got that concert thing. There won’t be an actual concert if she’s not there.” Steve chuckles.

“See you later, Eds.” Steve lifts kisses his fingertips before pressing it on the headstone.

The trees shake with a gust of wind. He smiles, letting his eyes flutter shut as he feels the wind against his skin.

Steve opens his eyes, waving at the headstone one last time.

Edward Joseph Munson

1965 - 1986

All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.

[lesbiansforboromir]

After the war. (dndrabble)

Well the poll said to throw it down raw but it turns out I'm incapable of doing that so just a few notes;

Sataro and Vekna are of an ancient race of high elves whose civilisation was entirely obliterated about 3000 years ago by a great cataclysm. This civilisation had had a historical tradition of nomadic life and worship of a primal god of fire (kossuth), but that was being suppressed by it's leader's own imperialist designs that valued a static population and military conquest. Sataro was a field-marshal in the army and from a middle-class family, Vekna was a Paladin of the old religion and came from a sub-section of society that still held to entirely nomadic life.

During a sudden attack upon their capitol by giants, Sataro sacrificed herself in order to give civilians a chance to evacuate. She would have died of her injuries but Vekna used some amalgamation of purpose and divinity to preserve her in stone, alive but still and barely conscious. This statue was placed in an old monastery and eventually forgotten.

Sataro awoke properly 3000 years later and was inducted into a dnd campaign. She believed all her people long dead, including her wife, and had been internally struggling with what her life could even mean to her when everything that HAD ever meant anything to her was gone.

During the campaign, after returning to the last remnant of the continent that Sataro's civilisation used to be on and, finding an abandoned dwarven kingdom called Bane Anvil, the Party ALSO found the dwarven king of the place preserved alive in it's vault. He had paused time somehow, awaiting the moment he would be needed again. And with him, Sataro found Vekna too. Apparently, unable to move on, Vekna had befriended the dwarves and it's king and helped them with this stasis contraption just for the small possibility that she and Sataro might find each other again in this time (my DM did this to me without me knowing a single thing I was so normal about it you've no idea)

This drabble takes place after they have finally returned to the party's base of operations, a dwarven city that gives them a house as a reward for the king thing. It is the first time Sataro and Vekna had properly had a moment of real privacy and rest since they were reunited. o7

Oh pps addendum, this ancient race of High Elves lived in the frozen north lands and averaged 8ft tall. It was a running joke in my brain that Sataro, whom is 7'7, was actually considered short in her time but is now surprised to find that she dwarfs most people in this era.

After taking one look at the utterly unprepared bed in the room they had chosen, Sataro and Vekna had quietly sought, and found, three of the unclaimed mattresses throughout the house. All three mattresses joined their original single one on the floor and made up a wide bed that would have been luxuriously spacious to anyone but Vekna and Sataro.

"Big enough, you think?" Sataro asked without much faith.

"Of course not. There is no bed big enough in this sodden era."

"We made do in Redbite."

"You were on me like a fool clinging to a fight the night in Redbite."

Sataro quirked a brow at her wife, "And you were not?"

"Well, you are so little," Vekna drawled, "I was worried you might freeze to death without our… four quilts from home." She made a great show of counting all the layers Sataro's trancing once demanded and mirth quirked at her lips once she was done.

Sataro sent her a typically unamused glare, and Vekna responded to the call accordingly; with a shameless grin.

They sat in their stalemate for a moment before Sataro conceded a silent defeat and grunted, "Dekash.. But it is too warm here for clinging."

"We don't need covers." Vekna offered immediately, quicker than Sataro had expected.

"… I suppose the open window and sea breeze should keep it icey enough," she said, smiling.

"It will." Vekna assured decisively. And then continued in a grumble, "Beggars belief how quickly snow is left behind in the south. At least in Bane Anvil I could find relief on the surface."

"You lived there then?"

"A little while." She replied, though immediately turned on Sataro as if knowing the thought that caught in her mind, "Ack, of course the cows were long dead before then Rybka."

The centuries-old 'little fish' nickname hit them both gentle and harsh and without discussion they stepped closer, shoulders brushing as they began unbuckling their armoured layers. "Yetty and Etta survived the war?" Sataro asked in a lower tone.

"Mhm," Vekna rumbled, matching her pitch, "I swear, too clever by half for just pulling burdens. I did not even go looking for them, they just came back to the yurt by themselves after the dust settled."

Sataro snorted, "What a perfect way to annoy you," she smirked back, flashing her teeth.

"They did it on purpose, I had thought for sure I was finally rid of them," Vekna growled.

"They weren't easy animals, even for the two of us. You could have sold them on." Sataro set her splint mail aside.

"No, I couldn't have."

They allowed that admission room to breathe and by the time they could speak again Vekna was rid of her heavier layers.

"The kits helped." She continued, eventually. "With the cows."

"They made migration with you?"

"Yes, but they cared for them in Mithlond too."

Sataro's head tilted curiously, a soft look coming to her eyes. And Vekna gave an irritable sigh of something before answering her silent question, "Your brother's family made their settling in the city for a few seasons, after."

"Gnestat hated Mithlond."

"So did I."

"… Did it help, to have them there?"

"Mm, for a time. In the beginning."

"And after?"

Vekna paused before turning her massive bulk fully towards Sataro and looking down at her with a hard stare.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Of course."

Vekna sucked her teeth in frustration, sarcasm bleeding into her tone, "Fine, let me say that differently, are you going to brood over ancient history just for the sake of feeling guilty if I tell you?"

Sataro grimaced.

Her nose scrunched with a displeasure that dug the scars around her eye even deeper and she bit her tongue against any rebuttal. Instead, looking for retaliation and reassurance both, she reached for the heavy blue cloth bound so particularly around Vekna's waist. She felt more than heard her inhale at the contact but Sataro did not pause, she stroked once over the wedding fabric before digging two fingers into each knot and beginning to gradually prize them free.

"Probably," she conceded, though she clearly did not like the admission, focusing on the patterns of metal thread woven in the familiar garment. And then in an even lower tone she admitted, "It is not why I asked."

Vekna's brow cocked curiously as Sataro finally pulled the long scarf away and let her hands act out the careful muscle memory of folding it over her palm. The colour was more faded than she remembered it, but it still held. Vekna said nothing for a moment as she watched this action with eyes full of something unspeakable.

"Why then?" she finally asked and Sataro seemed to writhe at the question.

Vekna held her breath as she watched Sataro struggle with what she wanted to say. Her shoulders tensed, her brows knitted and a muscle bounced in her jaw in a way that looked painful under the scar tissue. Eventually the look of conflict, ferocity and scarlet that had been growing was directed Vekna's way.

"I do not know how to say this."

"The look on you…" Vekna said in a release of breath, tracing her hand over Sataro's brow and following the scars down her cheek, a touch Sataro pressed into like a cat.

"Thinking too hard again, as always," Vekna chided, "It is not like you to falter though."

That won her weary smile and Sataro's ears wilted a little as she let her forehead drop to rest against Vekna's chest. "Mph, my head has been full of wool since I awoke. Makes giving up on thought very appealing."

Vekna clicked her tongue once again, her hand coming to rest over the back of Sataro's neck. "That is because you don't 'think', you agonise."

"And you arbitrate."

"And you are dodging my question." Vekna gave a single tug on Sataro's braid and drew her eyes back up. "It is me. Just say it."

Sataro thought she heard the rarest note of a nervous plea in Vekna's voice and, real or not, her blood rose to meet it fiercely. For her, she would beat her thoughts into words. She dug one hand into the fabric of Vekna's shirt at her collar, breathing out through her nose once, before, "Fine. I think I am too… uh.. ravenous."

Vekna's beautiful brows rose. "Ravenous?"

"Yes. It- ah… it is too much. It makes my hands and my voice shake."

"For what?"

"You, obviously."

"You have me," Vekna hummed warmly, but Sataro was not reassured.

"No, even telling you this, I feel as though I am trying to tear pieces out of you."

"Maybe you should."

"No, listen-" Sataro urged, trying to shake her for emphasis, "I want to lock us in this room and hear you talk for a hundred days, or however long it takes until I have heard it all-"

"That doesn't sound so bad, a little dull."

"-Especially what you don't want to tell me, I want to-.." her free hand clawed the air in her effort to explain herself, "-dig it all out of you. It is a brutal feeling."

This does give Vekna pause, "… Wanting me?"

"Or missing you. Maybe they are the same. Either way it is too much, it feels like I will break something."

There was a silence between them for a while, Sataro weathering Vekna's usual unreadable but intent stare with a durability grown from centuries of practice.

"Mm," Vekna began at last, "so my standing here is not enough, you want to tear out everything new about me that you do not know, even the secrets I find hard to explain, just to wet your thirst of me after so long apart? It all must be yours?"

Sataro's expression pulled towards rueful and raw annoyance at having been so concisely laid bare and she opened her mouth to fluster a response, but Vekna's eyes were raptorial when she interrupted her, "And what have I just done, Rybka?"

Sataro frowned, then blinked, eyes widening with a surprise that soon folded and broke into an emotion so potent it gagged her. It made her reach for Vekna's face, cup her near manic canine grin with hands that dragged at her skin as she pressed her battered nose into Vekna's cheek. As arms enveloped Sataro's chest she pushed and Vekna laughed through those canines as her back collided with the wall, a warm but sour sound that made Sataro's torn ear twitch and her chest burn.

They breathed as one for a while, until their hearts calmed and the burning tempered.

Sataro's hands were still greedily running over Vekna's grinning features that nuzzled into every touch when she finally sighed and her gaze sharpened with renewed purpose.

"What happened between you and the family, after?"

Vekna grunted, rueful amusement showing on her face as she realised what she had encouraged. Still, she did not try to deny her a second time, her expression as she held Sataro's gaze pinching with something like melancholy, or pain.

"They were there. When I was told nothing could be done and you were taken away."

Sataro did not blink. "They grieved with you?"

"Yes, in a way," there was a pause before Vekna pushed away from the wall in a huff and concluded darkly, "-then they moved on without me."

She looked away, down, to fix upon Sataro's waist sash. Her short in and out breath was sharp and her fingers touched the fabric almost nervously at first, before sinking into it's softness as if to savor it. "They said your name again, as though you were dead. I could not be there for that."

"Did you stop seeing them?"

"They came to find me a few times, they tried to bring it up with the Order too."

"They did?"

"Yes!" Vekna said with a hollow laugh. "Went crying to the Mother-Superior, something about my needing help, to stop going to see you, needing to 'let her go'. When I told them you were conscious at times they thought I had gone mad I think." Vekna's manner of prizing the knots of the fabric free was decidedly slower than Sataro's had been, giving her wife time to slide arms about her shoulders as she worked.

"Gnestat did not come to visit?"

"Not when you were awake." Vekna muttered.

"… but I am sure I remember speaking to someone else.."

"The kits would make the journey with me, even after their father stopped."

"Oh! Yes," Sataro chuckled fondly, "Jurnat left flowers…" Memories of her niece and nephew seemed very sharp suddenly, jagged and bloody with a grief she had yet to grow around.

"I'm surprised they were so dogged," she said with a hoarseness that Vekna lovingly ignored.

"Busybodies all of them, I preferred it when they barely tolerated me."

Sataro's closed her eyes, swallowing around the bittersweet lump in her throat.

But Vekna's frown only grew and her lip curled venomously. "And then there was your fucking mother."

This was all but spat, making Sataro flinch in place, though Vekna quickly halted her efforts and let go of the scarf to instead just cradle Sataro's ribcage in her hands.

"I hadn't meant to say that."

"I'll forgive you." Sataro said in a sardonic but tight hum, "… so even she felt compelled to finally speak to you?"

"When she could not help it, and I couldn't escape."

Sataro settled her back and torso into Vekna's confident hold with a weary and resigned sigh, running her hands up and down Vekna's shoulders throughout the silence. It seemed to soothe.

"Gnestat and I would complain about her together, now and then…" Vekna mused with a distant look.

"And what would you say?"

Sataro's attempt to make the question sound casual failed abysmally and Vekna growled back at her. "Why ask me something I want to tell you but I know you do not want to hear?"

Sataro gave a frustrated shrug. "I will have to know eventually."

"Who says so? I think I will take it to my grave."

"If you must, let's see…" Sataro's eyes wandered to the ceiling.

"… See what."

"What's the worst thing I can imagine my mother doing…"

Vekna leaned forward and bit her ear, hard, worrying at it's cartlidge as she pulled her closer whilst Sataro chuckled and tried to shake her free.

"You really are ravenous." Vekna growled through her teeth.

"You're the one consuming me ear-first."

"I could start elsewhere-"

Sataro kissed her. Vekna's hands at Sataro's back shook just a little so that, when she pushed, the monolith of a woman went down easily to sit on the mattresses below. Sataro followed her, dropping into her lap and her waiting arms.

"Luuchik," Sataro burred, arching to make space at her still-tied waist as Vekna gripped her tighter, "Finish your work, and tell me what happened."

The command was fruitful. Vekna returned to her methodical untying.

There was a quiet between them as they waited for Vekna's 'sunbeam' petname to stop choking her at it's invocation. But, eventually, she began in a croak;

"… She wanted to parade you through the plaza."

Sataro was still and quiet.

"Just take you, as you were, up the city. Set you there, like any other monument. She would not stop calling you her 'martyr-daughter'. It started the moment she returned to the rubble, I only ever saw her weep about it in front of someone important."

Her words were burning and she looked to the side with a bitter, gritted laugh that left Sataro cold.

"I had to- we spent days in the district court just to keep you from her scheming hands."

"Gnestat?"

"Mm, and Yurtar too."

This was a surprise, to which Vekna only nodded a confirmation. "Yes, even Yurtar. It was their words that got you sent to the monastery, in the end. My protests were nothing in comparison."

"Did they say why?"

"Something foolish about, 'whatever you were, you did not deserve to be a toy'. But they still did not visit you after the fact."

"I never expected it."

"You should have."

"Their convictions were noble."

"As noble as they were flaccid."

"Vekna."

"What was ignoring you ever going to do, hm? Force the Titah to strip the 'Marshal' title from a statue, all because a cross-dressing seditionist sibling disapproved?"

Sataro butted their heads together, "You were a cross-dressing seditionist."

"I had more backbone about it."

"Are we still having this fight even after they are so long dead?"

Vekna gave a deep, long sigh, and a sudden aching weariness seemed to come over her. Sataro felt, perhaps for the first time since their reunion, that this was something new in her wife she had never seen before. She held her tighter on instinct, her severe shape somehow still finding it's perfect fit around Vekna's full curves. In silence, Vekna pulled out the last knot, letting the scarf lie still and loose about Sataro's waist.

"They did not deserve you," she croaked, "None of them did, but their kin-rights were paramount in the end."

Ah.

Vekna looked down at the gold fabric in her hands. "The binding was literally set in stone, and still no one's claim of you was in doubt but mine."

Sataro made an animal sound, "Our vows were recorded in that court, did that not-.."

"What worth are a pagan barbarian's promises?" Vekna grinned through gritted teeth.

It was a look so hateful that some cautious reign about Sataro's heart snapped and steel wrapped her spine. Perhaps she needed to break something, what was a little brutality between them, after all? Sataro had always known what to do.

She wound her fingers into Vekna's long locks of greying red hair and pulled her gaze back, like it was hers to take. (And wasn't that true?) It wiped the awful grin from Vekna's face at least.

"Take it off," she ordered and Vekna, unblinking and transfixed, obligingly pulled the scarf away from Sataro's narrow waist and set it aside.

"The records are gone and no one alive remembers what that scrap of cloth means," this did hurt, it hurt them both, but Sataro drew Vekna's hands back around her as she continued, "but we are still here."

Vekna listened, and Sataro kept going.

"You conquered my death, and then you conquered time, no claim over me has won more of a right than yours. It outlasted empires and all meanings but ours."

In the stillness after, Sataro still worried for the three hundred years of a Vekna she had not known. There were new lines she could not see, new borders that might consider her trespasser, a distance of time that might prove so wide she'd lose her in it. She felt more a coward now than ever before in her already long life, but still, she had learned how to face a fear at some point in that time, she would still reach across the distance anyway.

And, apparently, Vekna had love in her for a new, ravenous, weary coward too. The words had lit a fire and slowly Vekna's eyes began burning a dangerous red and her breath against Sataro's mouth grew supernaturally hot as a touch of the old world's divinity purred in approval. Her smile returned, vile and hungry, but Sataro liked this one much better.

"That is true, isn't it." Vekna affirmed with a lion's satisfaction.

"Mhm," Sataro sighed, slumping back into Vekna's hold and giving into weariness once more, "and I hope I am a worthy prize for the effort. I am far more battered than before."

"Worth doing it all again," was snarled into her ear.

"Even worth my mother?"

Vekna gripped Sataro's jaw and she went limp into it, "No more talk about your mother, besides the crone died barely ten seasons afterwards."

"She did? H-"

Vekna slid her free, still burning hand under Sataro's remaining loose tunic and pressed into the skin of her back, making her hiss pleasantly.

"No more about your mother."

Sataro obeyed and chuckled fondly as Vekna so easily hefted her and rolled them both into their makeshift bed, undoing the past year of experience that had begun to make Sataro feel big and heavy.

Vekna kissed her this time, which felt new in some ephemeral way, and let her full body press Sataro into their makeshift mattress that barely softened the hard stone floor. Tension left the both of them, even softening Sataro's thin ligaments and tight chords as the weight of Vekna's breast pulled creases into her shirt and came to rest against Sataro's sternum. Their legs tangled, Sataro found the crease of Vekna's hip with her fingers and they both sighed.

"I still have more to dig out of you." Sataro murmured, as warning.

"So do I." Vekna promised in kind.

[lesbiansandboromir]

It’s nearly two years to the day that I drew the first party portrait for our DnD campaign and since then a lot’s happened to the gang! Amory got slobbered on by a tentacle monster and acquired a snake, we rediscovered the origin of the dwarves, two party members left and two new ones joined, and Sataro discovered her giant wife frozen in time! And much more!! I want to be clear that the majority of the party are not short, it is just that Sataro and Vekna are 7′7 and 8′1 respectively.

[razdragana]

Nije važno kolika je krađa

Danas je od poštenja slađa

Na hiljade mrva su vekna hleba

Na hiljade kamenčića su stena

Ne postoji hleb koji će alave da zasiti

Ni kamenje koje će nemoćne da zaštiti

Možda je inkvizicija rešenje za beščašće

Do tada svako ko može, bestidno krašće

Nema poštenja, pravde, a ni časti

Negujte dušu, nju ne mogu ukrasti

[yukiroby]

Ninth Artfight attack is for https://artfight.net/~AndrasDarkmist ! I drew their chaotic OC Vekna 😆✨

[ilovewillsolace]

I love to think that Will has the strongest biokinesis abilities among the children of Apollo (and possibly in all of history) so he can splice and tear muscle tissue, stop heartbeat and breath, or even turn people inside out. imagine Will with the abilities of Vekna, but they are not connected with telepathy, but with biokinesis

this is what pushes me to the scene from the toa where he literally sews the hands of that guy Paolo. without special abilities in their conditions, it would be impossible

[fantrollpalooza]

welcome to hell.

ask blog for my fantrolls. ask them questions, and I’ll answer them in character.

requests currently: CLOSED! (for blog construction)

trollcall !

- xeniah ezreth

- ellara vazina

- voltei eestel

- drexel valryn

- yuriel irmise

- ariean zoidyt

- ceasro lemair

- vrenix irgudo

- diablo rozmik

- malivo regius

- zirrek veknas

- ilrori rervin

- issine sukros

[stylized-corpse]

Tonight in West Chester, Pennsylvania!

[teplejtrouba]

amíci a absence slova 'veka' v jejich slovníku... pardon ale jak mám brát vašeho fujhnus brouka voškliváka záporáka seriózně když mám z jeho jména chuť na chlebíčky

[zanimljivaekonomija]

Šest osobina koje svaki kvalitetan hleb treba da poseduje

Bez obzira da li svakodnevno uživate u dobrom sendviču ili niste preveliki ljubitelj hleba, nema razloga da ne znate razliku između vekne hleba i stvarno dobre vekne hleba.

Možda se pitate kako jedna vekna hleba može da se razlikuje od druge, ali će vam svaka dobra pekara reći da razlika definitivno postoji.

Bez obzira što ne radite u nekoj pekari, apsolutno je moguće da znate da proverite kvalitet hleba kao pravi pekar. U nastavku je vodič sa šest najvažnijih karakteristika koje odlična vekna hleba treba da ima:

Kora

Hleb bez lepe, hrskave kore nije hleb vredan vašeg vremena.

Dobar hleb treba da ima koru različitih nijansi, od zlatnosmeđe do svetlozlatne. To garantuje da ćete uživati u svakom zalogaju.

U zavisnosti od vrste hleba, razlikuje se i kora, baget im hrskavu, a bavarsko pecivo mekanu koricu.

Vazdušastost

Za pravljenje hleba se obično koristi pšenično brašno zato što sadrži dva proteina koja stvaraju gluten, ali neki pekari preteruju sa mešanjem testa pa hleb bude suviše gust.

Ono što treba da tražite u svežem hlebu su mehuri vazduha različitih veličina.

Sjajna unutrašnjost

Ne bi trebalo da svaki hleb izgleda vlažno u unutrašnjosti, ali kvalitetan hleb će imati blago sjajnu unutrašnju površinu. Pored toga, vratiće se u prvobitan položaj kada ga pritisnete.

Aroma

Ako u nekoj pekari tvrde da prave ukusan hleb, trebalo bi da možete to da osetite i čulom mirisa pre nego što zagrizete krišku hleba. Dobar ukus je praćen i čulom mirisa, pa pre nego što zagrizete aroma se oseća I mirisom, prilikom zalogaja.

Kvalitetan hleb treba da ima dobar ukus i sočnost; ne treba da ima ukus kao da jedete vazduh!

Izgled

Iako vekna hleba ne mora da izgleda božanstveno da bi bila ukusna, lep hleb se svakako slađe jede. Dobar spoljašnji izgled ili glazura, naročito kod slatkog hleba, treba da bude pokazatelj kvaliteta. Forma, oblik, volumen, glazura… sve to čini kvalitetan hleb.

Lakoća narezivanja

Narezivanje je skoro kao umetnost, ono daje poseban pečat, pa ako želite da dobijete rustikalan hleb pustićete da se on sam “otvori” bez narezivanja.

Najvažnije od svega jeste da volite hleb koji jedete. Kvalitetna vekna hleba ne znači ništa ako ne uživate u njoj!

Uz malo sreće, ovi saveti će vam pomoći da izaberete najbolje od najboljeg za svoja nepca.

Izvor: https://hartfordbaking.com/5-key-characteristics-look-great-bread/

[bymarara]

Let's talk about this.

"The Vanishing of *** Wheeler." - So... Which Wheeler? Mike, Nancy, Holly? I'm leaning towards the last one, but! They all make sense. One can imagine how Vecna, could be after Mike, to at the same time, hurt Will, Al. Or, he could be using Mike as bait to lure them into a trap.

It's also conceivable that Vekna would come after Nancy for revenge because his plan didn't work out as planned, and Nancy, who knew more than anyone, almost killed him at the end of season 4.(But also, it would be as bait for others, a trap to lure them into the Otherworld.)

And the best part. What if it was Holly? Let's look back through all the seasons and realize the fact that she was somehow but connected to the Yznan, she saw a lot of things.

Season 1 - Holly was the one who went to the Byers house to get light bulbs and saw in Demogorgon style (saw somewhere a suggestion that it could even be Vekna, who even then wanted to kidnap her.).

Season 3 - On the Ferris wheel, Holly noticed that the trees were moving and apparently didn't believe her mom that it was the wind. I think Holly sensed something wrong, you know what they say, kids see more than adults.

Season 4 - We're shown that Holly is the first to notice ash from the sky, calling it snow. Once again, she's the first to notice something weird and it's not weird?

I think she's going to play a big role. Holly, Ted's favorite and father, Ted even fell asleep with her in his arms. We're told that Ted and Mike will have some kind of interaction, so why wouldn't it be a conversation like Ted is worried and starts asking Mike what the heck has been going on for years and where is the youngest daughter missing? Also, Holly's disappearance could strengthen the family as everyone will be on the lookout for the girl.

"Escape from Camazotz" - I think this is going to be a clash of the Bylers. We all know that the Bylers will likely have some sort of tension, but we know that they will most likely be Endgame this season. There are rumors and theories that the Bylers will become canon in episode 7. I think this all makes sense since we haven't been given the title of the last two episodes because they could be a huge spoiler.

" Sorcerer." - I can very likely tell you what was going on in Yznanka with him 1983. We'll be shown this with flashbacks that may show Vecna for some purpose, perhaps to get him to his side and show how similar they all are. Also, maybe it will show us that Will has the ability to hear and sense Vecna. Because of that, everyone might be afraid of him, since he can play both sides, or even if it's not him anymore, they might be afraid of him being evil. Mike and Joyce will be reminded of the events of season 2 and assure them that Will is fine.

[residentialrobot]

I haven’t even seen an anime in years, I swear.