#difference between c and embedded c

[iiesbangalore]

Embedded Systems Course For Beginners

Embedded systems have permeated nearly every aspect of modern technology. From the smartphones we use to the cars we drive, embedded systems are responsible for powering many of the devices we rely on daily. If you're looking to gain an understanding of embedded course in Bangalore and how to work with them, you might want to consider taking a beginner's course at the Indian Institute of Embedded Systems (IIES).

Introduction

Embedded systems are integrated computer systems designed to perform specific tasks without human intervention. They are widely used in industries such as automotive, healthcare, home automation, and more, and are becoming increasingly popular as the Internet of Things (IoT) continues to grow. A beginner's course at IIES is an excellent way to get started with embedded systems and learn about the fundamental concepts, tools, and techniques used in the industry.

Why Take a Beginner's Course on Embedded Systems?

Taking a beginner's course on embedded systems has several benefits, including:

Understanding the Fundamentals

A beginner's course at IIES can help you understand the foundational concepts of embedded systems, including hardware and software components, communication protocols, and programming languages commonly used in the industry.

Developing Practical Skills

The course is designed to provide a hands-on approach to learning, allowing you to work with real-world hardware and software platforms, including the Arduino and Raspberry Pi. This practical experience will give you the confidence and skills you need to build embedded systems on your own.

Career Opportunities

As the use of embedded systems continues to grow, so does the demand for professionals in the field. Completing a beginner's course at IIES can open the door to a wide range of career opportunities, including embedded system engineer, IoT developer, and more.

Course Curriculum

The beginner's course offered at IIES covers a comprehensive range of topics, including:

Introduction to Embedded Systems

This section provides a comprehensive overview of embedded systems. It covers the basics of hardware and software components, communication protocols, and programming languages.

Microcontrollers and Microprocessors

Learn about the various microcontrollers and microprocessors used in the industry, including AVR, ARM, and PIC microcontrollers.

Programming Languages

Gain an understanding of the programming languages used in embedded systems development, including C and Python in embedded system.

Real-time Operating Systems

This section covers the basics of real-time operating systems, including scheduling algorithms, task management, and inter-task communication.

Hardware Interfacing and Peripheral Control

Learn how to interface with various hardware components, such as sensors, motors, and displays, and control them using programming languages and microcontrollers.

Projects and Workshops

The course offers several practical workshops and projects that allow students to work with real-world projects and gain hands-on experience.

Indian Institute of Embedded Systems (IIES)

IIES is one of the most reputed institutes for embedded systems training in India. The institute offers a wide range of certificate and diploma programs in embedded systems, including the beginner's course mentioned above.

Expert Trainers

IIES has a team of experienced trainers who are experts in their field. They provide practical training sessions, enabling students to gain skills that are relevant to industry standards.

Industry Partnerships

Keeping up with the current industry trends is essential to gaining expertise in a field; IIES has partnered with various companies such as Altair, Tiempo Labs, and many more reputed firms. This collaboration helps to keep the students updated about industry trends and expectations.

Advanced Facilities

IIES has cutting-edge infrastructure and world-class facilities, providing students with access to the latest hardware and software technologies and practical hands-on learning experiences.

Course Duration and Cost

The beginner's course offered by IIES is of 3 months' duration and offers flexible batch timings. The fee structure is reasonable and affordable, making it accessible to anyone interested in learning about embedded systems.

Conclusion

A beginner's course on embedded systems offered by IIES can be an excellent way to learn about this fascinating field. The program provides a comprehensive overview of embedded system concepts, tools, and techniques while also offering practical hands-on learning experiences. Completing the course can be a great career opportunity in a field where the demand for professionals continues to grow. And with IIES's expert trainers and state-of-the-art facilities, you can be confident that you're learning from the best. So, enroll today and start your journey into the exciting world of embedded systems!

[mahalachives]

How Not to Survive an Illyrian Winter

Pairing: Azriel x Human Mate (reader)

Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff

Summary: When a blizzard rolls through Windhaven, you learn firsthand just how brutal Illyrian winters can be—and how soft Azriel can be when it comes to you. Cold fingers, warm jackets, grumpy shadows, and one very flustered spymaster.

You'd always heard that Illyrian winters were brutal. What you hadn't realized was that "brutal" was a massive understatement.

Standing outside the war camp's central meeting hall, you hugged yourself tighter as another gust of snow-laden wind cut through your woefully inadequate cloak. When Azriel had mentioned bringing you along to Windhaven, you'd packed what you thought was appropriate winter attire.

Apparently, "winter attire" in Velaris and "winter attire" in the Illyrian Mountains were two entirely different concepts.

"It'll just be a quick meeting," he'd said with that rare, small smile that still made your heart flutter. "Wait for me outside. The camp lords get tetchy when outsiders sit in."

That was two hours ago.

Your teeth chattered so violently you worried they might crack. You'd long since lost feeling in your toes, and your fingers had progressed from painful to alarmingly numb. The snow had begun falling harder, creating white walls of wind that obscured everything beyond ten feet.

"This is f-f-fine," you muttered to yourself, stamping your feet in a futile attempt to generate warmth. "T-totally f-fine."

A passing Illyrian warrior, bundled in thick furs and leathers, shot you an incredulous look that clearly said. No, you idiot, this is not fine.

You glared back, though the effect was probably ruined by how pathetically you were shivering.

Just as you were contemplating whether it would be worse to interrupt Azriel's important meeting or to slowly freeze into a human popsicle, the door to the hall slammed open.

Azriel stood in the doorway, his expression shifting from irritation (presumably at whatever had transpired in the meeting) to absolute horror when he spotted you.

"What in the name of the Mother—" He was across the space between you in three long strides, shadows writhing agitatedly around him.

You attempted a smile. "H-hi."

"Are you—" He reached for you, then hissed when his fingers touched your cheek. "You're freezing!"

"C-curious observation, s-s-shadowsinger," you managed through chattering teeth.

The shadows around his hands seemed to darken and multiply, whispering what sounded like curses in languages you didn't recognize. For a moment, you swore they formed tiny, angry little faces that scolded the wind.

"Why didn't you go inside somewhere? Any building would have been better than standing out in this!" His voice was gentle but firm as he rapidly unfastened his heavy leather jacket.

"Y-you said wait outside the m-meeting hall."

Azriel paused in the middle of removing his jacket, those hazel eyes widening. "I meant wait outside the meeting, not outside in a blizzard!"

You blinked snowflakes from your lashes. "Oh."

With a noise that was half exasperation and half concern, he shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around you. Instantly, delicious warmth enveloped you – the leather practically radiated heat, the blue siphons embedded in the shoulders glowing subtly.

"You enchanted your jacket?" you asked, already feeling the painful tingle of circulation returning to your extremities.

"Of course I did. It's the Illyrian Mountains in winter," he said, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. His shadows continued their angry whispers, now seemingly directed at you.

"Are your shadows... lecturing me?"

A hint of color touched his cheeks. "They're concerned."

"They sound cranky."

"They hate seeing you in distress," he muttered, the admission clearly costing him something. Before you could tease him further, he bent and swept you into his arms as if you weighed absolutely nothing.

You squeaked in surprise. "Azriel! Put me down! I can walk!"

"Your lips are blue, your clothes are soaked through, and you've probably lost feeling in your feet," he countered, already striding through the snow. His massive wings unfurled partially to shield you from the worst of the wind. "So no, you cannot walk."

The few Illyrians out braving the storm quickly stepped aside, their expressions ranging from amusement to outright shock at seeing their intimidating spymaster carrying a shivering human through camp.

One brave warrior called out something in their native tongue that made Azriel's ears redden.

"What did he say?" you asked, snuggling deeper into the wonderful warmth of his jacket.

"Nothing important," Azriel replied too quickly.

You poked his chest. "Liar."

His lips twitched. "He said I've gone soft."

"Well, your jacket is very soft," you agreed, deliberately misunderstanding. "The big bad shadowsinger has a comfortable jacket. Shocking."

That earned you a rare chuckle as he pushed open the door to a small cabin with his foot. Inside was blessedly warm, a fire already crackling in the hearth.

He set you down gently on a chair near the fire, kneeling to remove your soaked boots. "You need to get out of these wet clothes."

When you waggled your eyebrows suggestively, he gave you a flat look. "Not like that."

"Spoilsport," you teased, but your attempt at humor was ruined by another violent shiver.

His expression sobered instantly. "You could have gotten seriously ill." His scarred hands cradled your frozen ones with infinite gentleness. "Why didn't you find shelter?"

"You told me to wait," you said simply. "I didn't want to miss you."

Something in his expression softened, and the shadows around him stilled their frantic movement. "Next time, assume that 'don't freeze to death' is implied in all of my instructions."

"I'll make a note of that," you promised, your lips curving into a smile as feeling returned to your face.

He disappeared into another room, returning with a pile of blankets and dry clothes that would clearly swallow you whole. "These will be too big, but they're warm."

As he helped you change – turning his back with endearing propriety when necessary – you couldn't help but observe, "Your shadows are still grumbling."

"They're saying I should have checked on you sooner." His voice was quiet, laced with guilt. "They sensed your discomfort but couldn't reach me through the wards in the meeting hall."

"Well, tell them I'm fine now. Just a bit chilly."

He raised an eyebrow. "'A bit chilly' doesn't turn someone's lips blue."

Once you were bundled in dry clothes and wrapped in multiple blankets, he sat beside you, hesitating only briefly before putting an arm around you.

"Your shadows are still muttering," you pointed out, leaning into his solid warmth.

"They're arguing about whether to tell Cassian."

You straightened in alarm. "Don't you dare. He'll never let me live it down."

The corner of Azriel's mouth lifted. "I think they're more concerned with whether he'll let me live it down for leaving my... for leaving you in a blizzard."

You caught that little slip, that unfinished word that hung between you, and tucked it away to examine later. "Your what, exactly?"

His wings shifted behind him – a nervous tell you'd begun to recognize. "My responsibility," he said finally.

"Hmm." You settled more comfortably against him. "Well, tell your shadows that if they snitch to Cassian, I'll find a way to make them regret it."

To your delight, the shadows actually seemed to recoil slightly, curling back toward Azriel's hands.

"They're suddenly reconsidering," he said, and you swore you could hear amusement in his voice.

"Good." You yawned, the warmth and safety making your eyelids heavy. "I'm very intimidating, you know."

"Terrifying," he agreed, his arm tightening around you. "Especially when you're blue with cold and buried under every blanket I own."

"Exactly," you mumbled, sleep beginning to claim you. "The most fearsome creature in all of Prythian."

As you drifted off, you felt the gentle press of lips against your temple and heard him whisper, "To me, you certainly are."

Author's Note: Just a little snowy slice of fluff starring everyone's favorite brooding shadowsinger and a very cold (but very stubborn) you. May the shadows always bring you blankets. 💙❄️

Outside, the wind howled, but you were warm, safe, and held by an Illyrian warrior whose shadows had finally stopped scolding the weather and started singing you to sleep instead.

End.

[mauveisroyalexo]

C H A P T E R — T H R E E

Summary: Tensions rise with the Batiste household as the well anticipated first dinner goes horribly wrong. What happens after, becomes the catalyst for Akira’s new life.

Warnings: Strong language, derogatory language, slow burn

WC: 10.4K

Previous | Next

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, Akira. It seems our sons didn’t run you off after all.”

The jokes seemed to flow across the long table as Akira apologized for being late. As expected, she was placed between Namjoon and Jin, the head alpha and beta of their pack. Akira noticed each gift bag she had brought was placed in front of the heads of Bangtan’s familial pack, as well as eight in front of her father and one in front Naomi.

Jackson’s mother gushed over the Jade comb and earrings, remarking how thoughtful Naomi was to study their culture. Akira could only hope for the same sentiment as each of the pack leaders opened their gifts from her. Akira wasn’t sure her mother picked out, she was just as nervous as she was earlier. Beneath the table, Namjoon’s hand gripped Akira’s, running his thumb soothingly against her palm. Jimin and Jin’s fathers both received engraved fountain pen sets, which they seemed to genuinely appreciate. Akira squeezed Namjoon’s hand as tight as she could, needing reassurance once it got to his mother. “Oh my Akira…this is the most beautiful bracelet I’ve ever seen.” Akira could practically see the tears in her eyes as each woman opened their bags, each pulling out a bracelet with different flower charms hanging from them, each one representing the birth month of each child they had. For Jungkook’s mother, a tiger lily and a honeysuckle. For Hobi’s mother, a buttercup and a spring crocus. For Yoongi’s mother, a larch and a peach; for Taehyun’s mother, a Carolina allspice, a briar rose, and a goldenrod. And lastly, for Namjoon’s mother, a clematis and an azalea. Akira’s mother did think to put in bracelets for Jimin and Jin’s mother’s as well; how she managed to know all this information without you was a mystery.

Looking across the room, Akira noticed her mother and sister give her a wink, thankful that they somehow got the importance of each bracelet. “Thank you Akira, I know that Jin’s mother will greatly appreciate the gift. She wished to be here, but the grand-pups are in town for a visit.” Jin’s father had a similar laugh to Jin’s, making Akira smile. Without much thought, Akira reached beneath the table to grab Jin’s hand with her free one. Jin smiled, the tips of his ears turning red.

“You did good, beautiful.” Namjoon leaned over to whisper in Akira’s ear. Akira closed her eyes just as Namjoon pecked the side of her head. Her heartbeat quickened at the mere touch of his lips, making Namjoon chuckle and squeeze her hand once again. It was bold to do such a thing in front of both families, but their parents didn’t seem to mind. In their eyes, Akira was perfect for their sons without knowing much about her. Naturally, the occasional question came up for both you and the pack: do you see yourself bearing a mating mark? Do you plan on staying or moving away? Will there be grand-pups?

Akira coughed before her wine could slide down her throat. Jungkook shook his head, embarrassed by his mother’s boldness while others snickered. “U-uhm…well we haven’t—we haven’t talked about that yet.” You stuttered, face flushed with heat. Akira coughed again, still feeling the tickle in the back of her throat as Jin handed her water to drink. She mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ before guzzling down half a glass of water. Halfway through the dinner, Naomi opened her gift from Jackson,a beautiful gold bangle engraved with a message and her name, with jade stones embedded into them. Akira smiled at her sister’s happy smile while the rest of her family raised their glasses in praise. “We would also like to give our gifts to Akira.” Taehyung smiled, nodding his head to her. One by one, each of the men pulled out their gifts from beneath the table. Family members from different tables strained their necks to see what she got from them. Akira felt put on the spot but knowing how they really wanted her to accept their gifts, Akira silently relented. Taehyung was the first to give his gift, a big purple bag in his hand as he walked around the table to hand it to her.

“Oh Taehyung, you shouldn’t have..” Akira couldn’t believe how big the bag was.

“I thought you might like it.” He smiled proudly, watching her pull back the tissue paper and pull out a large quilt. Big and purple with stars and hearts alternating each square and bordering the quilt. Akira held it to her, aware that she could smell the lavender and leather. She could smell the citrus of orange and the smoothness of vanilla and sandalwood and mouth watering pear. “To keep you warm until you’re with us.” Taehyung smartly replied, leaning forward to place a kiss on top of Akira’s head. She placed the quilt back into the bag then received the next gift, which was from Jungkook. The bag, also purple, was medium in size. Akira dug through the bag, pulling out a Polaroid camera. She looked up at Jungkook with a smirk; his full bunny smile making her giggle, “For all the memories we’ll make. As a new family.” Akira bit her lip, feeling tears start to warm behind her eyes. She reached out her hand for him, “Thank you, Jungkook.” Her soft voice made his wolf pur. Placing the camera back in the bag, Akira was ready for the next gift. Next, Yoongi and Hobi stood behind her, both excited for Akira to open her next gift, “We hope you like it. We picked it out together.” Handing over a long, purple rectangular box, Hobi turned to Yoongi, excited about her reaction. Akira opened the box and gasped. The diamond charm bracelet wasn’t too overwhelming with just the right amount of charms and diamonds studded throughout. “See this one in the middle?” Yoongi pointed out to the purple, vertically inverted trapezoids pointing to each other, “That’s our pack’s insignia. You’re a part of our pack and we want others to know it too.”

“And these charms represent us.” Hobi explains, “I’m the sun. Jin’s the moon. The guitar pick is Yoongi, the rose is Taehyung, the book is Namjoon, the wings are Jimin and the bunny is Jungkook for obvious reasons.” Jungkook sucked his teeth, scowling while Akira giggled, trying to hide the tears threatening to spill.

“I’ll never take it off, thank you Hobi.” Akira then turned to Yoongi, “Thank you, Yoongi.” Taking Akira by surprise, they both kissed her on the cheeks. Akira pouted cutely, holding her wrist out as Jin attached the bracelet. “Everything was beautiful, I don’t know if I could stand any more presents.”

“But you haven’t gotten to me yet.” Jimin pouted.

“Or me,” Jin mused,

“Or me, beautiful.” Namjoon smiled, his dimples deep and round. Akira covered her face, suddenly feeling shy. She felt a hand on her waist, squeezing her side.

“C’mon Akira, I wanna see what the others got!” Naomi yelled from the end of the table, clearly excited. Jimin smirked, handing her a large purple box, Akira could sense a theme here. She opened the box, revealing the softest oversized sweater known to man. It felt plush between her fingertips, the soft pink fabric delicate, almost too perfect for her to have, “Just something delicate for a delicate woman.” Akira smiled, holding the sweater to her chest, already making up her mind that she’ll sleep in it later tonight.

“I love it, Jimin, thank you.” Akira folded the sweater and placed it in the bag with the camera. Next was Jin, offering a gift that both he and Namjoon came up with. He handed Akira a purple velvet box, making her look at both him and Namjoon, “What did you two do? Is it gonna make me cry?” Jin laughed,

“Open the box Akira.” Akira bit her lip as she opened the box. A jagged shaped piece hung from a thin gold chain. On the piece was her name engraved in cursive along with her birthstone, a pretty garnet gem. It took Akira a moment to realize, “It’s a puzzle piece.” She spoke softly, a cute confused frown on her face. Looking up, she looked at all seven men slowly revealing their own necklaces, “W-What’s—you didn’t.”

“We each have a piece. You’re the completed part of our puzzle so we wanted to show you that.” Namjoon rested his arm on the back of Akira’s chair, his hand finding the back of her neck, massaging lightly. Tears pricked at the edge. Her breath picked up, a soft gasp leaving her lips. “Despite how you may feel? You belong with us, Akira. And we’re gonna show you in every way possible that you are one of us.” Her lips trembled just barely before a tear fell. Akira quickly looked away, staring down at the necklace in her hands, licking her lips as she was at a loss for words. Her eyes closed softly as she felt Namjoon’s lips once again at the side of her head, shushing her softly as more tears silently fell.

Jin took the necklace from her hands, taking it out of the box and unclasping it. Carefully, he brought it around her neck, securing it; the gold piece dangling between her breasts. Akira couldn’t even speak. She grabbed hold of the necklace then without a second thought, laid her head on Jin’s shoulder. He grabbed a napkin and handed it to her, watching as she wiped her tears away.

Jimin’s father raised a glass and others around the table joined—well, certain members of Akira’s family didn’t. Justine bitterly sipped her champagne, stewing at the fact that her husband no longer treated her that way. Malik seemed annoyed, ready to take his wife and kids home as he felt this dinner was beneath him. And Joseph just plain wanted to be a hater. But one look from his wife told him he had better stay quiet or there would be drama later. The night continued with more food and drinks and even dancing. Akira slowly danced with Taehyung and then Jimin. And though she was starting to get tired, she danced with Namjoon too. “Are you okay, Akira? I sensed there was more than just nerves tonight.”

“I’m just…I never felt this before.” Akira whispered, her head pressed to his chest as they danced. Ever the gentleman, Namjoon kept his hands at a respectable position, one on the small of her back, the other holding her hand.

Namjoon frowned, “Felt what?”

Akira moved to look up at him. A starry gaze set in her eyes, almost like a far away look, “Safe.” Namjoon’s grip tightened on the small of her back. ‘Omega feels safe with us. She’s safe for now.’ Each member of the pack stopped what they were doing and looked at the both of them still dancing. Akira gave Namjoon a soft smile, one to appease his happy wolf.

“God I wanna kiss you right now.” Namjoon rumbled, making Akira gasp. She felt light, almost dizzy. Stumbling a little, Akira almost fell, but Namjoon caught her waist, pressing her against his. She wanted him to kiss her as well but knew that it wasn’t the time or place for that. Looking away, Akira stopped dancing and pulled away from Namjoon. She held his hand, “Take a walk with me? They have a garden outside.” Namjoon smiles, moving to wrap her arm around his, the fabric of his all black suit kissing her fingertips. On her way out, her grandmother smiled, sending her a wink. What the cute future couple didn’t notice was Malik and Joseph watching them, watching as the two walked silently out of the hall.

Jungkook frowned, sensing negative energy coming from them. This triggered the rest of the pack, each flocking to him to see what was bothering him, ‘Kookie what’s wrong?’

‘Do you guys get the feeling that her family’s energy is…off?’ Jungkook took a glance over at Jin who could be seen scowling, ‘Jin hyung what’s wrong?’

Jin sighed, taking a seat to finish his whisky, ‘I didn’t say anything at first but at the summit, I overheard her father threatening her.’

‘Excuse me?!’ Yoongi nearly spun on his heel, rage settling within his bones as his eyes glowed red. Hobi grabbed his arm, trying to calm him, ‘What exactly did he say to her?’

‘Basically he told her she either sleeps with us to secure her place in the pack or she’s in trouble. He wants the alliance between us for power. She refused and judging by how hard he grabbed her, I’m guessing that’s why she’s wearing sleeves tonight. He didn’t even want her as a part of the family.’

“Fucking bastard.” Jimin cursed aloud, seething at the thought of anyone, let alone his mate’s father, threatening her. “Does Joonie know?”

“Yes.” Jin replied, “We’ve been trying to speed up the process of getting her to us as quickly as possible but he,” and Jin made it clear that he was talking about Akira’s father, “wants assurances.”

“Fuck his assurances.” Yoongi spat, growing angrier.

“For the safety of our pack omega, I’m willing to meet whatever demand he wants. I want her out of that house.” Jin countered, finishing his drink. “I want her home with us in one piece Yoongi, not battered and bruised.”

“I’ll kill him.” Jimin stopped Jungkook, scuffing the back of his neck, making him whimper.

“Jin’s right. Not acting rationally in front of the families will cause more problems than they’re worth. The goal is to bring her home. They can’t break mate bonds but they sure as hell can delay it and we can’t have that.”

“Therein lies the problem,” Hobi sighed, “she’s human. To them she technically doesn’t have a bond with us. They can challenge us for her at any point. It’s best to act within reason.”

“I hate this.” Taehyung sat opposite Jin, fuming. “We do anything to jeopardize her coming home to us, Namjoon will never forgive us. I’m with Jin.” He grumbled, playing with the jacket of his suit. The group tried settling each other’s emotions, contemplating on how to deal with the situation. Meanwhile, outside in the garden, Namjoon and Akira walked peacefully in silence until they came across a pond. Namjoon sat in the area where people could sit, holding onto Akira’s hand as he pulled her between his legs. Akira loved that his silver colored hair shimmered beneath the moon. She loved the smile that he gave her, dimples fully on display. Namjoon was gone. Completely love drunk on her scent, on her voice, her laugh—everything. “Seeing you smile tonight was everything I wanted. I wanna see it more often.”

“Namjoon,” Akira spoke softly, finding it hard to find the words.

“Yes beautiful?” Akira shyly looked away, nearly pulling away from him but he pulled her closer. Akira fell onto his lap, barely making Namjoon flinch. She felt heavy all of a sudden. Akira knew she wasn’t a small girl by any means. She had thick thighs, a little chubby stomach, a full and slightly rounded face. None of that seemed to matter to Namjoon though. He was just happy spending time with her.

“Do you…” Akira sighed, finding herself playing with his matching necklace, “do you really believe I’m your mate? Like without a doubt, you know that for sure?”

“Yes, I truly believe that.” He answered honestly.

“But how?” Akira squinted, lost on how it was possible, “I’m not a wolf, I’m just a human, I’m nothing—.”

“Don’t.” Namjoon silenced her, an instant chill settled her body. Namjoon rarely ever used his alpha command, but he needed to, just this once. He was surprised it actually worked on her, “Akira, you are not nothing. I don’t know why my wolf responded to you like any other wolf would to its mate. I can’t explain to you this overwhelming feeling to make sure you’re cared for and safe and loved, but it’s there. It’s here,” Namjoon grabbed hold of her hand and placed it in his warm chest, “this feeling, this urge…it’s primal. It’s instinctual. I just knew the moment I met you, you were meant to be ours.”

“B-But how can I be a mate to multiple wolves? Is that even possible?” Akira could feel his heart rapidly beating within his chest.

“It’s rare, but it can happen. Werewolves can have multiple mates but with you, Akira, the rules have changed.” Akira stared into his soft brown eyes, paralyzed by what she knew would happen next. Namjoon’s eyes traveled across her face before settling on her plump lips. Closer and closer, the two leaned in until he was a breath away, “Can I kiss you, Akira?”

“Please.” Akira whimpered, slightly moaning as his lips touched hers. The dazed feeling she felt engulfed her, sending her melting into his body. Namjoon’s arms wrapped around her frame, deepening the kiss to elicit the most delicate, breathy moan he ever heard from her. Her scent skyrocketed; the warm, syrupy scent oozed like honey through his nose, making his wolf growl and rumble through his chest. Akira moaned again, thighs clenching together as the sound zapped her body with a feeling she never felt before. One of Namjoon’s hands traveled upward, cradling the back of her neck in his hand.

Kiss deepening even further, his tongue parted her lips. His tongue danced within her mouth, massaging hers and bringing forth a high pitched moan that even surprised Akira. She had never made these sounds before, not for anyone. He then pulled away just slightly, both of them panting for air as his lips softly pecked hers. His other hand held one of her soft, plushy thighs, squeezing gently. “I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you.”

Her giggle muffled as she buried her face in the side of his neck, making him laugh as well. Resting her head on his shoulder, Akira dreamed that nothing interrupted this moment. That everything would remain this safe and peaceful for her. Sadly, that would come to an end as this overwhelming feeling sunk within her chest. She sat up quickly, almost dizzying, “Something‘a wrong.” Her speech slurred, still reeling from the kiss as she stood up, legs wobbly. Namjoon frowned, concerned until he heard it. He heard the arguing going on inside the building and knew he needed to defuse it, and fast. “Let’s go.” He stood quickly, grabbing her hand as they walked quickly back to the building. Within minutes they could hear shouting from the banquet hall, making Akira take off her heels and sprint to the hall with Namjoon by her side.

So much commotion was taking place that they both didn’t know where to start. Jackson and Naomi and his family were trying to stop the argument between Akira and Bangtan’s family. Jungkook and Taehyung were nearly chest to chest with Malik and Braxton. Theo, Akira’s brother-in-law, was trying to stop her sister Justine from attacking Jimin's parents—the chaos was everywhere. Akira’s nieces and nephews huddled in a corner, terrified and immediately, she let go of Namjoon’s hand and ran to them. They engulfed her, scared and terrified. Her grandmother just sat at the table, covering her face in annoyance.

“ENOUGH!” The echo of Namjoon’s voice shocked the sound barrier, making chandeliers shake and glassware tumble. He looked over at a scared Akira who held the children to her in comfort, shushing the smallest ones to stop crying. He sighed, obviously angered that she had to see a side of him that he did not want her to see, “What the hell happened?!”

“Malik—!” Taehyung was interrupted by said person, which he despised,

“Y’all started the bullshit with me!” He shouted, “Comin’ up in my conversation, starting shit!”

“Tell him what you said, jackass!” Jungkook shouted, ready to lunge at him if not for Jin and Hobi holding him back, “Tell him what you said about Akira, tell him the truth!”

“Hey!” Jungkook snapped his head to Namjoon, ‘Don’t wolf out right now. We don’t have any spare clothes in case you turn.’. Jungkook huffed and puffed, trying desperately to control his rage. Jin pushed out his calming scent, trying to mask the stench of rotted and burned firewood.

Akira ushered the children over to their great-grandmother before walking over to the scene, “Whatever he said, it shouldn’t have warranted all of this, Jungkook. No matter what, words should not get you out of character like this, even if it’s from my own brother.”

“Akira,” Jungkook whined, obviously displeased, “please—.”

“You heard her,” Malik chuckled, “listen to your $5 whore.” Namjoon and Akira whipped their heads toward Malik. The next thing they saw was Malik’s head reeling back as Taehyung punched him in his jaw. Braxton then lunged and a fist fight between all four commenced. Namjoon ran over and broke it up, catching Taehyung and Jungkook by the neck to scruff them. Before Malik could land another punch, Namjoon turned quickly, grabbing his fist with the palm of his hand. “You’re drunk. Get yourself together, especially in front of your wife and kids.”

“You think just because you’re a leader of a pack you run everybody. Well you don’t run me! You and that bitch will never measure up to me!” Malik shouted, rage taking over his entire body.

“If you ever become a leader, you will run your pack to the ground.” Namjoon coldly replied.

“Now wait just a minute son,” Joseph soon stepped in, standing between him and his son, “That’s my son you’re talking about.”

“Oh but it’s ok to disrespect your daughter? Your precious princess, as I recall it?” Namjoon stated, staring him down, fed up with hiding his feelings in diplomacy, “I knew you were a liar from the moment I saw you. Whatever hatred you have for her, know that it will all be erased once she’s home with us.”

“If I allow it.” Joseph warned menacingly. Akira’s eyes watered, knowing that her father always made good on his threats. “After the display your pack showed today, I don’t know if I want my daughter to be aligned with you.”

Akira faltered, “Father, please—!”

“Silence, Akira!” Joseph shouted, making her jump. “What kind of fool do you take me for? You would rather associate yourself with these hoodlums than your own family?!”

Akira walked over and grabbed Namjoon’s hand. “Father, please. Whatever happened, it can be fixed but don’t do this, don’t take this away from me. I’ve been loyal to my family my entire life. I never ask for anything, please, don’t do this, please.”

Mariam walked over, placing a hand on her husband’s shoulder, “Malik started the fight. He should be punished for it later, but the girls, especially Akira, do not deserve for their nights to be ruined.” ‘Judging by the looks on Jackson’s family’s faces, if you mess this up, the alliance for Naomi will be ruined too. His and the Bangtan pack’s family are close knit, they will not tolerate this and we need the numbers, Joseph’, Mariam’s wolf spoke to him. Sighing, Joseph relented. He turned to Malik and although no one could hear what they were saying, there was definite tension.

After tensions somewhat died down, Akira looked around the hall. Every mess she saw brought tears to her eyes. Shaking her head, Akira packed up all her gifts and handed them to her mother, “Say goodnight, Akira.” Her mother nodded towards the seven men all huddled with their families as they helped the staff clean up. Sensing her distress, Jimin popped his head up, making the others do the same. Akira stood in the center of the ballroom on the dance floor, trembling. She knew she wasn’t going to just say goodnight to them. The moment Hobi walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her, Akira could barely contain her soft cries, “Shh, it’s okay Akira, it’s okay.”

“I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.” Akira’s muffled apologies could be heard as his arms tightened around her.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. None of this is your fault.” Hobi tried assuring her, but it didn’t make the sadness go away. Moving away from his arms, Akira wiped her face and moved her hair out of her face. It broke their hearts to see her this way. Yoongi walked up to her and held wet cheeks between his hands, “I don’t care how many rules we may break, we will find a way to bring you home to us.”

“As much as I want to believe that Yoongi, my father? He won’t allow it. I know him, tonight made up his mind for him, he will never let me near you again.” Akira gently pulled his hands away, “I’m so sorry…” she whispered, turning away from them. She quickly picked up her heels and rushed out of the ballroom, tears kissing her eyes again. An ache started forming in her chest. Akira knew what the end felt like. She knew that after what happened tonight, she’d most likely never see them again. It wasn’t even a full month but Akira felt safe with them. Now it was being ripped away.

— — —

“Father still won’t let you see them? I thought mama talked to him, it’s been three weeks!”

Naomi and Akira grew closer in the past few weeks since the disastrous dinner that took place. The guys would text her knowing that talking wasn’t an option. And though she tried to mask her sadness, Akira couldn’t hide the fact that it hurt that her brother said awful things, words that even Naomi wouldn’t repeat, “This has gotta stop, it was Malik’s fault!”

“Doesn’t matter.” Akira mumbled. She stared absentmindedly at the towels she was folding, working on her third load of laundry. The house took less time to clean thanks to Naomi’s help. Their entire family would be over for dinner later and Akira had already started marinating the steaks and prepped all the side dishes. At this point, she was just going through the motions of her daily routine.

“It does matter. You’re being punished for something he did, and his punishment was barely a punishment to begin with!” It was true, Malik barely had a punishment. He had a “stern talking to” about almost costing Naomi her new pack. Joseph knew that without Akira’s involvement with the Bangtan, Jackson would instantly pull out, as they are his brother pack. It took a lot of convincing from Naomi to assure Jackson that everything was running smoothly, but she knew that it wasn’t, “He’s just being stubborn.”

Akira sighed, folding the last of the laundry, “I’m…not gonna fight his decision. I can’t have a pack anyways, it was stupid to believe that I belonged with them, it was even stupider to believe that I was their mate.” Naomi shook her, disagreeing, but Akira continued, “I should’ve known better. It’s not like I’ve done anything to deserve attention from anyone. Whatever decision our father makes, I have to abide by it. I just want peace in my life, Naomi, I don’t want to upset him.”

“Because then he’ll take it out on you,” Naomi realized, “he always takes it out on you.”

Akira nodded, hiding her face, “And when everyone leaves…it’ll just be me, him, and mama. Unless he sends me to another pack, and who knows how they’ll be.” Akira shook her head, dismissing the thought, “I just want some peace in my life. Upsetting father…I don’t want trouble.” Akira picked up the basket of freshly folded laundry and made her way to all the linen closets, with Naomi right on her tail,

“What if I talked to him? I’ll tell him that Jackson wants to back out of the deal if you’re not with Bangtan?” Naomi urged. Akira stopped what she was doing, midway placing towels away, with a perplexed look on her face,

“You would do that for me?” Akira was dumbfounded. She’d never seen Naomi move mountains to help anyone, let alone her. And the sudden push for her to join Bangtan’s pack was questioning everything Naomi said and did for Akira. “Why?”

“Because you need to see this through. If you stay here, it’ll get worse, no matter how much you try to obey him.” Naomi crossed her arm, “Our father is a tyrant. He shouldn’t be forcing whatever rules he has on you just because you’re human.”

— — —

“I heard that the rebels have started growing in numbers and that they’ve even recruited nomads. Our numbers need to be up if we want to end them.”

Akira walked around the dining room table as her Uncle Michael spoke, pouring more wine into glasses for those who asked. She hadn’t eaten dinner herself yet, tending between adults and children from the dining room to the kitchen. She hadn’t even spoken a word aside from the quiet ‘hello’ wielded to her relatives as she greeted them at the front door. To be seen and not heard was her mission tonight and she was exceeding.

“Akira, more wine.” Malik summoned her, waving his hand over to her. Both Mariam and his wife, Felicia, looked disgusted at his behavior. Before their grandmother could get her words in, Akira quickly walked over to Malik and poured his wine. Tiny feet slapped against the marble floors as Malik’s daughter, Sasha, called out to her, “Auntie Kira! I need help, I can’t cut my steak! Pleeeeeease?!”

Malik watched exchange between the two as Akira smiled wide, “I’ll be right there sweetie, I’ll cut them smaller for you, ok?” Sasha nodded then ran back to the kitchen.

“I can go do it Akira, you must be tired.” Felicia offered.

“It’s alright Fe, I don’t mind.” Akira smiled softly, also refilling her glass, “I like doing things for my nieces and nephews.” She shrugged before heading off to the kitchen silently. Akira helped Sasha and the rest of the smaller children before checking in on the adults, “Would anyone like any dessert?”

“What is it tonight?” Her father asked absentmindedly, not sparing her a second glance.

“Caramel cake, your favorite.” Akira replied softly, looking at the floor. Joseph waved her off dismissively, probably telling her to bring out the cake. Akira sighed quietly, going to grab the cake out of the fridge.

“This has got to stop!” Genevieve slammed her hand on the table, silencing everyone. All eyes moved to the eldest member at the table; her steely eyes set on her oldest son. “She is not a house negro and you will stop treating her like one. ALL OF YOU!”

Malik laughed, “Grandmother, she’s not a slave. If she wanted to stop, she could, don’t pacify her—.”

Genevieve snapped her hand at him, making the air grow cold as he was silenced. Malik choked on nothing, grabbing his neck as she squeezed the air out of him from the other side of the table. No one knew how the matriarch of the Batiste pack acquired these special powers, but they knew not to cross her. “Malik Gerrod, you’ve been getting beside yourself. Say one more word, and I got you.” She released him, making him cough and gasp for air.

As if timing couldn’t be more useful, Akira walked into the dining room just in time with the cake, “Sorry it took long, the kids needed help.” She sat the cake near Joseph then stood straight to grab dessert plates and a cake knife. Yet when she came back, she noticed the chill in the room, “Oh no…did something happen?”

“I am so sick and tired of seeing you do all the work in this house like you are a live-in maid, put that shit down!” Her grandmother shouted, making Akira jump. She never saw her grandmother so livid, it was frightening, even for an omega.

“Y-Yes ma’am.” Akira quickly put the plates and cake cutter down, scared to say or do anything. Eyed wide and with fear, Akira looked about the room with shock. And watched her grandmother then turn on her mother, which again, rarely happened,

“And you!” She pointed to Mariam.

Mariam stuttered, shocked, “M-Me?!”

“I waited for years for you to step in and do something but you have taken far too long! That is your daughter! You are supposed to protect all of your children, now you grow a goddamn backbone and you do it NOW!” Genevieve shouted.

“Mother, that is enough!” Joseph shouted. Genevieve stood, flicking her hand towards him like a fly on the wall. His chair skidded back against the wall, oxygen ripping from his lungs as she squeezed his airway like she did Malik. His eyes widened as he fought to breathe, struggling. Justine and Naomi screamed at the sight while Mariam ran over to him, trying to help,

“You forget I am your parent, not the other way around. You do well to remember that next time you piss me off, boy.” Genevieve squinted, squeezing tighter, “ I have been very patient with you, with all of you!” Genevieve let him breathe; Joseph gasped and gagged, trying hard to retrieve oxygen to his lungs, “The level of embarrassment from this family has reached outside this compound! If there’s one thing I know your father wouldn’t have tolerated, is to be embarrassed and I refuse to let his memory be tainted by you and your spoiled ass brats! This child,” Genevieve pointed to Akira, “has done everything to try and please you! She is the one upholding my legacy, not these entitled runts! I have never seen a pack of wolves turn on their own like you all have. And to sit there and be silent in the treatment of this poor child makes you just as guilty.”

“Akira,” Akira stood at attention, turning to Genevieve with a scared look in her eyes, “you will be staying with me until your courting season is over. Go to your room and pack, right now!” Akira ran out of the dining room, not wanting to upset her grandmother. A glimmer of hope bloomed in her chest as she burst open the door of her bedroom. Though most of her things were packed away, she knew she couldn’t carry those things to her grandmother’s just yet. Still, she did manage to pack up some clothes and her gifts that the boys got her and started leaving them by her door.

“Akira!” Akira jumped as she swiftly turned around, seeing Naomi stand in her doorway, “Grandmother is making Uncle Michael and Aunt Regina load your things in his truck. We better hurry before father regains his ego back, what things are you taking?” Naomi urged, searching frantically in Akira’s room for anything to grab.

“Those three boxes and those two suitcases, that’s it.” Three small boxes and two suitcases worth of stuff was all that Akira owned in this world. She didn’t own nor wanted much. The cell phone she owned, her grandmother bought her. Her toiletries were all bought by her mother. She never thought she would leave this prison she called home, and it was bittersweet to leave it, being that it was all she had ever known. Naomi stacked the boxes. Her strength towers over Akira’s. Just then, another knock stopped them in their tracks. Miriam stood at the door, teary eyed as she stepped closer to Akira, “Naomi give us a minute.”

Naomi left, bringing the boxes outside. Akira slowly backed into a wall, unsure of what her mother would do. Miriam looked hurt. She saw herself in Akira; so much of her fear and pain was draped like a cloak over her youngest child that she couldn’t see what it had truly blinded her from. The man she married was not the man he actually portrayed himself to be, not to her. It was all a lie and it took his own mother to scream it to the heavens for her to see it. “You’re terrified of us. How could I not see it?” Akira didn’t deny her statement, staying silent. “How could I not protect you from the very thing no one protected me from?” Akira’s head cocked, a confused frown on her face as she watched her mother’s eyes tear up. “I’m sorry Akira. Your grandmother’s right, I should’ve protected you more.”

Akira didn’t know her mother’s story. She didn’t know her experiences, that much was true, but there would be time for that. For now, Akira unclenched her body slowly, shoulders dropping with hesitation. Miriam reached out to touch Akira’s hair, making Akira nervously flinch. Miriam sighed, placing her hand back down, “I think staying at your grandmother’s will be good for you. Safer until you’re settled in with your pack.” Miriam turned and left, a sullen expression on her face. Akira felt guilty. Her mother never treated her horribly, but she never outright protected her either. Shaking the confusing thoughts from her head, Akira grabbed the rest of her things and headed outside. Joseph was still shouting. Malik and Felicia were arguing. Miriam was probably somewhere in her bedroom, crying. None of that affected Akira. The minute she stepped outside, Akira felt a shift in her energy. Everything was starting to change.

— — —

“I’m happy we could do this, Yoongi. I’ve never been to a sip and paint, nor painted before, this is really fun!”

Out of all Akira’s mates, only four seemed to be into art. Only one, Yoongi, was smart enough to use it as a way to further court his human omega. He found a class happening at an art studio in downtown Smeraldo Valley on a Friday night, fitting for his first date with her. Yoongi knew she’d have fun; seeing her eyes light up as they approached the studio and watching as people came in and out with their art pieces, all happy and smiley. “I’m glad, and you seem to be doing well for someone who’s never painted before.”

Akira looked at her unfinished painting, “All I did was blend in some brush strokes.” She giggled. While courting ceremony duties were being taken care of—Akira’s being a great deal to take care of by her grandmother—the second phase commenced: the dating phase. Tensions were high in the Batiste compound, but that didn’t deter dating activities for the two single Batiste women. While Naomi’s courting experience was celebrated, Akira’s wasn’t mentioned at all. The men opted to deal with the matriarch of the family; being buzzed in at the gate and given directions to the small cottage-like home in the center of all. Like seven little gentlemen, each greeted Akira’s grandmother with flowers and candies, all eager to meet the woman that raised her. Three weeks of continuous courting and flirting from the pack had made Akira dizzy in the best way possible. She was happy that she was getting to spend time with them individually this time. “Your painting looks amazing.”

“Aish, not finished yet.” Yoongi smiled, gums on display as he started at his black and blue background. He glanced over at Akira, watching her delicate features. The way her brows furrowed in concentration over her painting. How cute paint smudges seemed to appear on her dark brown cheeks and old overalls and fingertips. He especially loved how her long boho knotless box braids sat on her head in a big top bun, courtesy of her grandmother finding a hairdresser for her. Very hard to do when you practically live in wolf country. Yoongi loved watching her ease into it. By the hour mark, they both completed their works of arts, and Yoongi was steadily cleaning pain from Akira’s face, “I still don’t know how you managed to get paint all over you.” He laughed, wiping down her face, her arms, her fingers. Her faint giggle made his wolf howl with excitement,

“To be honest, I don’t know either, I think I zoned out.” Akira took a glance at both their paintings, noticing some similarities as well as some differences. They both used black as their starting point, gradually fading upwards into a gradient of their choosing. His was night and hers was day. A lone silhouette figure, man and woman, looking opposite sides of each other, as if searching for something, or someone. Spray of white dots littered his sky to symbolize stars while pinkish orange rays dusted hers to symbolize a setting sun, “Wow, they actually came out beautiful, I didn’t think I had any talent.”

“Believe me, beautiful, you do.” Yoongi’s deep voice affected Akira in ways only Yoongi seemed to sense. He smirked, wiping the last of the paint on her hands before closing his around hers. Once their paintings dried, Yoongi grabbed them both and brought it to his car, making sure to lay them down gently. Leaving the sip and paint class, Yoongi walked Akira to his car. He opened her door for her and allowed her to hop in. His next plan was to take her to dinner; even if it wasn’t the fanciest place in the world, which Akira didn’t seem to mind, “Oooo, I’ve heard about this place. I always wanted to try their hand cut knife noodles but I never got to try it!” Akira rocked in her seat excitedly as they pulled up to Purple Lotus, a Korean restaurant that was casual and friendly. “I’ll be sure to let Jin hyung know that. He’s part owner.” Akira’s eyes widened as Yoongi pulled into a reserved parking spot.

“Yoongi you’re not serious right now.” Akira gawked. Yoongi laughed even harder, turning the engine off before opening his door, “I am serious, Jin hyung has ties to a few restaurants.” 50 to be exact. Even Yoongi doesn’t fully understand how his hyung manages them all, but he does. The men weren’t just that most notorious pack simply for the most alphas, they were the second richest in the state, possibly the country. Their ties to their community, both foreign and domestic, were enough to grant them any and everything they could possibly ever want or need.

Yoongi got out of the car and ran around to open Akira’s door. He helped her out, closed the door behind her and locked it before taking her hand again and ushering them inside the restaurant, bypassing the hostess and several customers in line to beeline to a private seating area near the back, closer to the kitchen. It was closed off; the large oak doors obviously signaling its privacy for larger parties. Yoongi opened the door, allowing Akira to walk in first. The rich purples and greens mixed in with the natural blonde wooden tables had Akira mesmerized. Lanterns and faux lotus flowers hung from the ceiling in alternating lengths, dusted with sprinkles of fairy lights just as it was in the public dining area, except the lighters were dimmer in the room. Akira was in love, “It’s beautiful, Yoongi.”

“Glad you like it, beautiful.” He smirked, ushering her to a large rounded booth. Akira slid in, her chest gently hitting the top of the table before she settled. Yoongi sat in close, throwing his arm on the back of the seat before reaching over near the middle to press a red button. The door opened, making Akira jump as a waiter came in, asking for their drink order. “I’ll have whiskey and club soda. Akira?” The men both turned to you.

“Oh, um…Coke for me? Please?” Akira asked sheepishly.

“The usual?” The waiter then turned to Yoongi, asking if he’d have his usual order.

“Yeah, and can you bring out some pork dumplings and an order of the knife cut noodles too?” The man nodded then left, leaving just the two of them alone again. Yoongi watched as Akira stared down at her necklace, fiddling with it, making her diamond charm bracelet clink and clank, “Something on your mind, beautiful?”

“It’s nothing I just…” Akira sighed, a little flustered, “this is the first time I’ve been on an actual date…” Akira shrugged with a nervous pout that made Yoongi melt into the booth, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Looks like you're doing everything right to me.” He laughed, making Akira cover her face in faux embarrassment. Yoongi grabbed her hands, bringing them down and away from her face, making him fall closer to her. Her lashes fluttered softly against her high cheekbones. Intimidating. That’s the word Akira would use to describe her pack mates. And being near Min Yoongi right now seemed to be the most intimidating part of her day, “All you have to do is talk. Get to know me, I get to know you. Simple.”

“It’s not that…simple.” Akira gulped down her words, her voice losing octave as her stare dropped lower to his lips. Yoongi smirked once again, licking his lips slowly as he watched her breath shutter and her scent bloom heavily. Akira looked away, feeling overwhelmed suddenly, “Always trying to find something to say isn’t as easy as people seem to think.”

“Well I don’t know,” Yoongi shrugged before reaching across Akira to turn her head back to him, “you seem to be doing just fine.” His thumb rubbed her chin lightly. Akira’s breath hitched. Just then the door opened and their waiter walked in with a cart of food. Seared pork belly, kimchi, pickled radish kimchi, fried rice, lettuce, sticky rice, ttekbokki, wagyu beef and beef ramyun and knife cut noodles and dumplings. “I take it this is the packs usual order?” Akira giggled, watching everything be set out on display.

“Minus a few things, yeah.” Yoongi laughed.

“Ok so what do I try first? Some of these I’ve never tried before.” Yoongi watched Akira bounce excitedly in her seat. It pleased him that she was open to trying new things, especially within his culture. Yoongi picked up a lettuce leaf and started building the perfect bite; adding kimchi, pork belly, and pickled radish, “Try this.” He then held the food for her, which Akira moved to grab but he pulled back, making her frown, “Open.” He commanded. Her back straightened as her eyes widened in shock of her response. Slightly ajar, Akira opened her mouth. Normally, this type of thing wouldn’t do it for Yoongi, but it pleased him to feed her. To watch her plump lips brush against his fingertips, nearly tickling them with her tongue.

‘Omega is pleased.’ His wolf crooned at the thought. Sauce from the pork belly dripped onto her bottom lip and before she had a chance to swipe it away, Yoongi beat her to it. The immediate shock of having the tip of his tongue swipe her bottom lip made Akira tense. But soon, like with Namjoon, her body slowly relaxed as Yoongi's lips pressed against hers smoothly, making her eyelids flutter close. When Yoongi pulled away, Akira followed, his smooth laugh rich and deep between her ears. “Eat up beautiful, I told your grandmother I’d get you home by curfew.”

Akira pouted those plush lips of hers, “That’s one rule I just don’t understand. I’m 26, I shouldn’t need a curfew.”

Yoongi took a sip of his drink then placed some food on Akira’s plate, “In lycan tradition, unmated omegas have curfews during courting season. It’s to prevent unmated alphas from taking advantage. You might still be a human, but you’re being courted as if you’re an omega. The rules are for your safety until you’re fully apart of our pack.”

“But, if I’m your mate, don’t I already belong to you?” Yoongi placed down his chopsticks and looked at Akira with all seriousness, making Akira frown. Did she say something wrong?

“Whoa, Akira, you don’t belong to us, we don’t own you. You belong with us, there’s a difference. We want you as our partner, not as our property. We want what all wolves want: to have someone to come home to. To have someone other than each other to spend time and talk with.”

Yoongi grabbed Akira’s chin and made her look at him, “Beautiful, look at me.” Akira’s eyes swept upwards. Yoongi could faintly see the thin veil of tears in her eyes, “You’re not property. Nobody owns you.” Akira’s lips trembled. Yoongi kissed the top of her head then pulled her close in a hug. During dinner, they talked, got to know each other. She learned that each of them had ventures of their own. Jin owned restaurants all over the state and some back in South Korea. Jimin and Taehyung owned fashion houses, designing collections and pieces for commercial and celebrity use. Namjoon and Yoongi both worked in music, owning their own production company with Jungkook as their lead producer, and Hobi as a business consultant for everyone. Akira felt a little more intimidated than before, “Me? Oh..uh…I-I never got to finish school so…I just took care of my family.” Akira shrugged, twirling her fork around.

Yoongi frowned, “You didn’t finish?”

Akira grew timid, “Long story short, my dad pulled me out of school. I never even finished junior year. I wasn’t even allowed to go to my brother and sister’s graduation, I was at home making the celebration dinner. My father…” Akira sighed, pushing her somewhat empty plate away, “When Joseph puts his foot down, you don’t ever question it. Defying him felt like it would be an act against God, he made sure I knew that, too…” Yoongi felt the shift of her energy. Something dark and painful loomed in the air, making his wolf cry out in pain, ‘Omega is hurt! Someone’s hurt our omega, he’s hurt her! Fix it! Fix it now!’

“You know if you wanted to finish your education, we would support that. There’s no reason you shouldn’t finish.” Yoongi urged.

Akira smiled sweetly, “Thank you Yoongi, but I think it’s a little for that part of my life. Besides, I wouldn’t even know what my next steps would be.” Akira shrugged again, her sour disposition slowly fading as she changed the subject, an obvious coping mechanism of deflection that Yoongi quickly picked up on, “Anyway, enough about me, I wanna know what made you join your pack?”

Yoongi hesitated but humored Akira’s need to move the conversation along. They talked for another hour before deciding to pack up and leave. Yoongi drove Akira home with thirty minutes to spare, still not wanting the night to end. He got out of the car and walked over to Akira’s side of the car, opening the door for her. Walking her to her grandmother’s front door, Akira turned, “I had a really great night with you, Yoongi. Thank you for making my first date fun.” Boldly, Akira leaned forward and pecked Yoongi on the lips. Her soft giggle to his surprised face, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to control his blushing cheeks made Akira laugh some more, “Goodnight Yoongi.”

“Goodnight, beautiful.” His deep voice made Akira shiver. Yoongi waved goodnight as Akira closed the door. Through the curtains, Akira watched Yoongi get in his car and drive away. If this date was a success, there was no telling how the other six would be.

— — —

“Now that you’ve moved out, the attention is doted on me and they have nitpicked over everything about my ceremony, including whether or not to invite you.”

Akira sighed as she watched her sister Naomi pace back and forth in her grandmother’s kitchen. The steaming hot tea sat in front of them as Akira offered her a cup, “Please sit, Naomi.” Akira frowned, feeling guilty for placing all the focus back on her. Naomi plopped down in her chair, hunched over the kitchen table as she stirred her tea around,

“It’s not like I’ve complained to Jackson about it but it’s like…I have no free will to do anything! I didn’t get to pick out anything, our mothers have done all the work!” Naomi vented, pointing how it wasn’t just their mother that took over, but Jackson’s as well, “This ceremony was supposed to be about us, but it’s just a political stunt for everyone to see. It’s not fair, Jackson and I were supposed to have some say in all of this. Even he’s getting frustrated.”

“You really like him, don’t you?” Akira questioned, seeing how upset Naomi got for Jackson. It wasn’t everyday that her sister showed others emotion. Naomi was an indifferent person, her personality alone came off as dissociative at times, but with Jackson, it seems Naomi reached a level of empathy that even Akira found endearing. “And don’t lie about it, it’s beneath you.”

Naomi looked at her mug, a pout forming on her face, “Yeah…I guess I do…” she sighed as she sunk back into her chair, “Jackson is really great. He’s sweet, he’s attentive, he’s a good communicator. I swear he can read my mind, he’ll say or do something before I even have to ask.” Naomi prattled on, making Akira smile. “I just don’t wanna end up like—.”

“Joseph and mama.” Akira finished for her.

“I swear that man tricked her into being with him, he wasn’t always this horrible.” Naomi grumbled, making Akira shush her,

“You better not let grandmother hear you.” Akira looked around, making sure their grandmother was near, “That’s still her son.”

“Who she’s disappointed in and lacks all respect for.” Naomi continued, a deadpan expression on her face. Akira covered her face, suppressing a laugh, “He’s a tyrant. Mama said he wasn’t always like this, but I’m starting to think she had a blind spot for him.”

“She does.” Akira frowned. Though Miriam didn’t outright tell Akira she had a similar upbringing, it wasn’t a hard conclusion to come up with. When Akira last saw her mother, she looked like a fragile, scared little girl inside and Akira didn’t know how to react to that. Now, any news about Miriam, it’s strictly from Naomi, “How is she?”

“Mama’s thrown herself into the ceremony, she hardly thinks about anything else.” Naomi waved her off, “Tomorrow she and Jackson’s mother are going food tasting. It’s only been a month and already, I feel like it’s been too damn long—I need a break from our family.” Naomi grumbled, taking a gulp of her tea. As Akira was about to respond, her phone went off. Akira checked the caller ID, smiling as she excused herself to answer, “Hey!”

“Hi beautiful one,” the voice on the other end spoke, “was wondering when I’d hear that beautiful voice of yours again.”

“Tae..” Akira would blush if she could. Naomi watched with curiosity as her sister rocked side to side, twirling the strings of her sweatshirt. From what she could hear, it was one of her pack mates. Naomi watched as Akira smiled and giggled, a sight she rarely saw from her. If anything, over the years, Naomi saw endless sadness on her sister’s face. A constant fear and blank void behind her eyes. Once Akira finished her call, she walked back to the table, the smile still on her face.

“I take it that was one of your mates?” Naomi mocked playfully.

“Yes,” Akira’s face heated once again, “it was Taehyung. He wants to take me on a date tomorrow night.” She shook her head then stared down at her mug, “Juggling seven men…it’s not something I thought I’d ever be doing.”

“Akira out of curiosity, do you…know..about sex?” Naomi’s eyes squinted, truly wondering if her baby sister even heard of such a concept. Akira nearly choked on her tea, eyes burning with tears, “The hell—Yes, Naomi, I know about sex!” Akira’s brow furrowed, looking at her sister as if she grew three heads. “I mean…I know enough…” Akira pouted, her fluffy dark toffee colored cheeks puffed out like snack cakes.

“I was just asking!” Naomi laughed, “You never know these days.” Naomi mocked, making Akira cut her eyes at her. “You know eventually you’ll have to act on it. Being a mate is different than just being part of the pack.”

“I understand that.” And truly, Akira did understand it. In high school, part of health class, there was a special werewolf health elective that of course, she took. “I just…is it actually possible for me to do..to have—.”

“You mean take a knot?” Naomi questioned bluntly. Akira’s eyes widened with embarrassment,

“Naomi!”

“What?! It’s not a taboo question! Sex is sex, subspecies or not!” Naomi rolled her eyes, “You never had this talk, did you?” She watched as Akira shook her head. Naomi’s eyes widened, “Oh wow, you’re really going in blind.”

“Is there something else I should know?” Akira fretted, playing with her nails as she stared at Naomi expectantly. Naomi sighed, biting her bottom lip as she internally groaned, realizing she’d have to explain wolf biology.

“Well, yeah, I mean…you have to know heats and ruts and what that means for us,” ‘us’ being figuratively for werewolves, “it’s complicated. Subgender aside, men will go through ruts. Alphas, Betas, Omegas—doesn’t matter, men will go through ruts, women will go through heats—unless you’re undergoing transgender treatment then of course, certain hormone treatments will change that.”

“Well how is it different? Ruts and heats, I mean?” Akira’s curiosity had her fully tuned in.

“You know how you get period pains every month?” Akira nodded in response to Naomi’s question, “Heats are similar, only the pain is more intense, ten times worse. It’s like having a literal serrated knife, heated up by fire, dragging back and forth over your womb.” Akira’s eyes doubled in size; Naomi could smell the fear radiating off of her, “After a couple of heats, the pain dulls. It’s not as graphic but it’s still very painful. If you’re a late bloomer, like I was, it’s even worse. The only good thing about it is it’s not every month. Sometimes it comes out of nowhere, sometimes it’s months or even years later. Sometimes it can be triggered by the aggression of a male mate.”

“How does that happen?” Akira was nervous to know the answer.

“Well any act of aggression could do it. A display of asserting aggressive dominance, their own early stages pheromones during ruts, or just plain old sex can trigger it sometimes. It’s the same for ruts; intense mate pheromones can trigger it. Heats can trigger ruts also. I will say this, ruts are a little more frequent sometimes, and that’s probably the only time men will feel what women go through.” Naomi chuckled darkly, thinking back to when her brothers complained of cramping.

“And so…my job, a-as their mate…I would have to help them..,” Akira’s voice dropped lower and lower as realization hit that sex was pretty much necessary. It wasn’t that she was scared, it was more so she didn’t want her first time to be risky.

“I’m gonna be honest with you Akira, I don’t think you’ll have that problem.” Akira stared in confusion while Naomi drank more of her tea.

“What do you mean?” Akira wondered.

“Well…think about it Akira,” Naomi chuckled once again, “you don’t remember anything from that health class?” Akira once again shook her head ‘no’, “ruts and heats hit when puberty does. From 16-21, it’s within that time frame first ruts and heats usually start. Your mates are around our age now, you don’t think they dealt with it themselves, do you?” Naomi questioned rhetorically. Akira looked away, staring at her mug. Naomi sighed, sensing a bit of shame and hurt from her sister, “Ruts and heats are overwhelming. It overwhelms the nervous system; you need some type of relief. Some wolves use toys, others…” Naomi trailed off,

“Find other wolves to fuck.” Akira concluded. “And you think, because I’m a virgin, if they end up going into a rut, they’ll find someone to help them out…”

“I didn’t want to say it but honestly, it’s not the worst idea. I mean the sex alone is overwhelming at times, and ruts and heats could last anywhere from up to a week or three. That’s a lot for a human body to handle and from what I heard with human pack members, sometimes having another wolf to match their stamina is better. Safer.”

“…How do you even know all of this? Have you—. Naomi interrupted immediately,

“Of course not, you know our father would’ve killed me.” Naomi scolded, “I used heat suppressants and toys on and off for years. Other stuff I’ve heard from my friends.” Naomi shrugged. “I just want you to be real and honest with yourself. Your mates have more than likely had help getting the edge off and probably continue getting help.” Akira didn’t know how to respond, and didn’t want to after the thought was put into her head. Naomi, sensing the sour mood and scent coming off her sister, changed the subject, “So! You know what you’re doing on your date tomorrow?”

“Hm? Oh uh,” Akira shook her head, trying to get her thoughts together, “n-no, Taehyung didn’t say. To be honest, it could be anything. Yoongi took me to a sip and paint so it probably won’t be that.” Akira was so distracted by everything she just learned, she wasn’t sure if she could carry on the rest of the conversation. She needed to talk to Namjoon, “But he said to dress nice and to be ready by 6.”

“Sounds like a romantic evening being planned, little sister. Seems like they’re showing their way of taking care and providing. I’m guessing they’re going by hierarchy?” Naomi questioned.

“I don’t think so. Otherwise Namjoon would’ve asked me out first.” Akira pouted.

“But he did kiss you first.” Naomi smirked.

Akira’s eyes doubled, “How did you—?!”

“I could see the smudged lip gloss from a mile away. Besides, it wasn’t like we couldn’t hear you two over the music, he said he wanted to kiss you, you two went outside to “talk”,” Naomi mocked, air quotes planted, “it wasn’t hard to figure out.” She laughed, “They might share you, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t stopped being competitive. Clearly the dates show that.”

“Oh god, please stop.” Akira covered her face, making Naomi laugh,

“What are you so embarrassed for, it’s sweet!.” Naomi watched as Akira shook her head, trundles of curls from her boho knotless falling in her face as a smile formed, “They make you happy. Happiness looks good on you, little sister.”

Akira didn’t reply, but she didn’t need to. Akira did feel a little happy, and it was because of the men in her life. Was everything moving faster than she could keep up with? Sure. But the truth was, Akira didn’t care. She was happy with how her life was quickly coming together in the best way possible.

[miniscule-meow]

Mary & Clyde: First Meeting

Mary & Clyde belong to @mariposita24

She makes I N C R E D I B L E art! So, go check her out and reblog everything she's done!!!

Wordcount: 1.3k

---

Mary heaves the weight of the pack onto her shoulder, shifting uncomfortably beneath the load she’s burdened herself with.

This seemed much easier at the start of all this.

Fueled by adrenaline of sneaking out, and the indignation inspired by her father’s harsh words, she raided the pantry. It wasn’t much of course, but it was something- something to give herself an ounce of agency, to prove to herself that her actions were truly her own. Besides, it benefited a good cause. So, by the dim glow of dusk, she found herself stuffing a large bag full of dried meats, ripe fruits, and choice wines for good measure.

Now her determined strides have turned into encumbered trudges as her brow dots with sweat, and her limbs ache their complaints about the effort. Perhaps she had gone a touch overboard this time.

She hasn’t even made it halfway yet. In fact, she’s basically just begun.

She’s just beginning to lament the length of the journey ahead of her, and she’s considering taking a quick break when the bag rips- the seam of the bag apparently protesting the load as much as her trembling limbs. The contents tumble haphazardly to the ground. One of the bottles shatters, spilling the vintage red into pools along the cobbled path beneath her feet, getting shards of green glass embedded into a few of the more unfortunate pieces of meat.

Ruined. It’s ruined.

Like a beast stalking its prey, the feeling of inadequacy pounces on her. Normally, she would consider herself to be strong, optimistic- a crafty problem solver. But now, emotions and exhaustion mingle together within her. It’s a caustic brew that shakes her resolve and she buckles beneath the weight of it all. The only thought rattling through her is simply: ‘Can’t I do anything right?’  

She’s left in this side street, alone in the middle of the night surrounded by her doubts and her failures. When suddenly she gets the prickling sensation that she is not alone. Slowly, she lifts her head. She looks down the road at the streetlights burning with a dim yellow glow, dotting the path ahead of her. The street is empty, the night is still.

Movement catches her attention from the corner of her eye, she turns towards the line of trees bordering the road. She had thought it best to travel around the outskirts of the city to get to her destination. She did not consider the possibility of running into… something.

There is a shadow. It is obscured by the dense foliage, but she can see it there, impossibly large, looming, even. Then, as simple as one might part a curtain, the large shadowy figure bends full-grown trees aside, and steps into the light.

A giant.

A real giant, like one might hear about in stories and fairytales. Sure, she knew they were real, but there is a difference between knowing something and experiencing something. Mary’s head swims at the sight of him. She looks up, and up, but it isn’t until he kneels, putting himself more on her level that she’s able to see his face clearly. His brows knit together in concern, seemingly almost as apprehensive as she is. To think of it, someone his size feeling nervous about a woman that could fit in the palm of his hand… it would be funny were she not frozen in place staring up at him.

“Do you need some assistance, miss?” His low voice asks, in a shockingly polite tone.

In a matter of seconds, he has subverted all of her expectations, disproving everything she had come to know about giants from the stories. Clumsy, loud, brash… he appears to be none of those things. Rather, from first impressions alone, he seems careful, considerate, and courteous.

She takes a breath to examine him again, now that the sense of danger has mostly taken its leave, and the pounding of her heart in her ears has dulled. He stays kneeling by the edge of the tree line, managing to feel unobtrusive despite his colossal size. He barely moves at all. He only blinks at her curiously, with the smallest inclination of his head, like he’s studying her as intently as she is him.

And what a mess she must be. Between the two of them, one might think that she was the one who came blundering out of the woods. Suddenly aware of herself, she straightens, standing and smoothing her gown.

“I can handle this on my own, thanks,” she nods to him politely, and turns to the food littering the ground.

Now… how to go about handling this…

She looks up once more, the giant still hasn’t moved. She places her hands on her hips, lifting her chin stubbornly. It might be foolish to think that she could intimidate a giant, but either way, it doesn’t work. The giant stranger before her doesn’t budge.

“I’m sure you can,” he says, his eyes tracing over the scene around her slowly. His tone is cautious, like he’s trying not to offend, “but that doesn’t mean that you have to.”

She squints up at him, scrutinizing him now. A giant comes out of the woods and just offers his help to her. Would it be naïve to accept?

“You know, many hands make light work and all,” he adds, turning his massive palms to her, a kind smile pulling at his features. He seems genuine.

“I’m sorry. Who are you?”

 “Clyde,” he answers, one arm draped over his knee, the other hand resting against his chest, he inclines his head to her. “And you?”

“Mary,” she says after a moment of hesitation. “Do you typically find yourself rescuing damsels in distress in the middle of the night?”

“It’s just something new I’m trying out. I might make a habit of it, if it goes well,” he flashes a proper smile now, a short chuckle rumbling from his chest. “Are you often wandering around the streets with an overpacked knapsack?”

“Sometimes,” she shrugs, “Typically, I pack a little more reasonably. I was… particularly inspired this evening.”

He raises a brow but doesn’t pry.

“I was going to donate this to a shelter in the lower part of the city,” she confesses, her shoulders sagging as she looks at the destruction around her feet.

“A noble cause,” he comments, “I really wouldn’t mind helping you, if you’d have me.”

She looks up at him once more, her neck craning back to see his face. His form mantles into the landscape beside her, he might as well be another building lining the street. A living, breathing building- and this is him kneeling.

“Alright,” she finally relents.

Having her permission, he leans forward, extending his hand towards her. Mary’s breath catches as he draws near. His hand alone is massive, it comes to rest on the road beside her, the back of his hand flat against the ground, his fingertips curling up casually. In the glow of the streetlights, she can see the grooves of his fingerprints, the calluses on his palm, all of the immaculate little details now at an impressive scale.

It makes her want to reach out and touch him, to make sure he’s real; to feel the delicate swirl of just one of his fingertips beneath her whole hand. He’s certainly near enough, she could close the distance between them in a step…

“I can carry whatever is still good,” he says. If he notices her staring, he doesn’t comment on it.   

She blinks and quickly turns to go about the business of salvaging what she can. She places the ripped sack into the center of his palm, lingering for just a second too long, to feel the warmth radiating from him. The hem of her skirt brushes against his thumb. Though he’s trying to stay still, his fingertips twitch ever so slightly. She can’t help herself. She places her hand against his index finger, and looks first at her hand, dwarfed by just the tip of his finger, then she turns her attention up to him, his kind face filling her sky.

“Thank you for the help.”

[whencyclopedia]

Upanishads

The Upanishads are the philosophical-religious texts of Hinduism (also known as Sanatan Dharma meaning “Eternal Order” or “Eternal Path”) which develop and explain the fundamental tenets of the religion. The name is translated as to “sit down closely” as one would to listen attentively to instruction by a teacher or other authority figure.

At the same time, Upanishad has also been interpreted to mean “secret teaching” or “revealing underlying truth”. The truths addressed are the concepts expressed in the religious texts known as the Vedas which orthodox Hindus consider the revealed knowledge of creation and the operation of the universe.

The word veda means “knowledge” and the four Vedas are thought to express the fundamental knowledge of human existence. These works are considered Shruti in Hinduism meaning “what is heard” as they are thought to have emanated from the vibrations of the universe and heard by the sages who composed them orally before they were written down between c. 1500 - c. 500 BCE. The Upanishads are considered the “end of the Vedas” (Vedanta) in that they expand upon, explain, and develop the Vedic concepts through narrative dialogues and, in so doing, encourage one to engage with said concepts on a personal, spiritual level.

There are between 180-200 Upanishads but the best known are the 13 which are embedded in the four Vedas known as:

Rig Veda

Sama Veda

Yajur Veda

Atharva Veda

The Rig Veda is the oldest and the Sama Veda and Yajur Veda draw from it directly while the Atharva Veda takes a different course. All four, however, maintain the same vision, and the Upanishads for each of these address the themes and concepts expressed. The 13 Upanishads are:

Brhadaranyaka Upanishad

Chandogya Upanishad

Taittiriya Upanishad

Aitareya Upanishad

Kausitaki Upanishad

Kena Upanishad

Katha Upanishad

Isha Upanishad

Svetasvatara Upanishad

Mundaka Upanishad

Prashna Upanishad

Maitri Upanishad

Mandukya Upanishad

Their origin and dating are considered unknown by some schools of thought but, generally, their composition is dated to between c. 800 - c. 500 BCE for the first six (Brhadaranyaka to Kena) with later dates for the last seven (Katha to Mandukya). Some are attributed to a given sage while others are anonymous. Many orthodox Hindus, however, regard the Upanishads, like the Vedas, as Shruti and believe they have always existed. In this view, the works were not so much composed as received and recorded.

The Upanishads deal with ritual observance and the individual's place in the universe and, in doing so, develop the fundamental concepts of the Supreme Over Soul (God) known as Brahman (who both created and is the universe) and that of the Atman, the individual's higher self, whose goal in life is union with Brahman. These works defined, and continue to define, the essential tenets of Hinduism but the earliest of them would also influence the development of Buddhism, Jainism, Sikhism, and, after their translation to European languages in the 19th century CE, philosophical thought around the world.

Early Development

There are two differing claims regarding the origin of Vedic thought. One claims that it was developed in the Indus Valley by the people of the Harappan Civilization (c. 7000-600 BCE). Their religious concepts were then exported to Central Asia and returned later (c. 3000 BCE) during the so-called Indo-Aryan Migration. The second school of thought, more commonly accepted, is that the religious concepts were developed in Central Asia by the people who referred to themselves as Aryans (meaning “noble” or “free” and having nothing to do with race) who then migrated to the Indus Valley, merged their beliefs and culture with the indigenous people, and developed the religion which would become Sanatan Dharma. The term 'Hinduism' is an exonym (a name given by others to a concept, practice, people, or place) from the Persians who referred to the peoples living across the Indus River as Sindus.

The second claim has wider scholarly support because proponents are able to cite similarities between the early religious beliefs of the Indo-Iranians (who settled in the region of modern-day Iran) and the Indo-Aryans who migrated to the Indus Valley. These two groups are thought to have initially been part of a larger nomadic group which then separated toward different destinations.

Whichever claim one supports, the religious concepts expressed by the Vedas were maintained by oral tradition until they were written down during the so-called Vedic Period of c. 1500 - c. 500 BCE in the Indo-Aryan language of Sanskrit. The central texts of the Vedas themselves, as noted, are understood to be the received messages of the Universe, but embedded in them are practical measures for living a life in harmony with the order the Universe revealed. The texts which deal with this aspect, which are also considered Shruti by orthodox Hindus, are:

Aranyakas – rituals and observances

Brahmanas – commentaries on the rituals

Samhitas – benedictions, mantras, prayers

Upanishads – philosophical dialogues in narrative form

Taken together, the Vedas present a unified vision of the Eternal Order revealed by the Universe and how one is supposed to live in it. This vision was developed through the school of thought known as Brahmanism which recognized the many gods of the Hindu pantheon as aspects of a single God – Brahman – who both caused and was the Universe. Brahmanism would eventually develop into what is known as Classical Hinduism, and the Upanishads are the written record of the development of Hindu philosophical thought.

Continue reading...

[cookierunmadness]

Okay so I gave way more thought to the Elder Faerie villain AU and HOLY SHIT I AM C O O K I N G.

Okay so, the witches baked the first 5 cookies, however they soon realized their tasty snacks became a little too integral to their desert world. So, they made a 6th cookie, Elder Faerie Cookie. One who was told his purpose from the get go. "Hold the 5 soul jams so we can enjoy our baked goods, and you won't crumble."

Elder Faerie took his task great fully, amassing his own kingdom, made of the witches own silverware and cutlery. One by one the 5 Virtues fell to his serated knife blade. And one by one their soul jams became his own. His soul jam of Passion embedded on his shield, his soul jam of resolution embedded in his sword, his soul jam of truth on his helm, his soul jam of freedom embedded in his chest plate, and his soul jam of Abundance was on his back squarely between his wings. Life was great, so much power he could do whatever the hell he wanted with.

But one by one, the soul jams vanished.

His soul jam of Truth went to the Vanilla Kingdom

His soul jam of Passion went to the Hollyberry Kingdom

His soul jam of Resolution went to the Dark Cacao kingdom

His soul jam of Abundance went to the Golden Cheese Kingdom.

And his Soul Jam of Freedom went to the Vanilla Kingdom as well but too a different cookie.

And he was not happy about this arrangement, he wanted his power back where it rightfully belonged.

Well his prayers were answered, when the soul jam of Freedom found its way home. In the form of White Lily Cookie. His kingdom was quick to adore the shy soul jam holder. She spoke of wanting to find the reason for cookies existing.

So maybe Elder Faerie slipped a book about the Witches Banquet into the Faerie Library. And maybe he followed behind White Lily as she ventured to the Banquet Hall. And maybe he watched her stumble over the edge of the table to the bowl of Ultimate Dough. He grabbed her arm, and as she was going to thank him, he pried the soul jam out of her Lily Staff, and let her go.

He listened to her screams as she fell, all while he turned and walked away with his prize. Placing back in his chest plate where it once was.

[wufflesvetinari]

wyllstarion rec list part 2

[part 1]

hi. i keep the wyllstarion tag open always on a chrome tab in my heart. the theme of this set is "look at the goddamn CRAFT in this thing!!!" as i slam my fist into the ground, weeping

"It's a long road (it's a long walk)" - @acephalouscreature. LISTEN. would you like to read a fairy tale set in hell, starring a guy (wyll) who KNOWS he is in a fairy tale set in hell, and thinks he has all of the tropes figured out despite his inexplicable amnesia? weird how that random handsome guy who keeps offering him dangerous bargains seems to be pretty invested in keeping him alive. this is a fic that drops you straight into the action and trusts you to unpack what is going on--and then unfolds in a gorgeous and achingly romantic way that still manages to play by fairy tale rules to a t!!! featuring deft dramatic irony + Wordplay As Life-Saving Strategy

"a desk is a friend your heart makes" - @jellyfishline. plucked straight from the summary: "Or, sometimes recovery isn't linear and you have to go hide under a desk about it." there are, certainly, many post-canon h/c fics in which trauma reemerges and Character A has to comfort Character B. what you DON'T see every day is such a deft balance between humor and h/c. this fic knows that trauma responses can honestly be a bit ridiculous, and lets astarion work through it while having both genuine pathos AND entertaining dialog. again i say: CRAFT.

"Someone Has To" - @shelbyroundthemountain. i read this last march, closed the tab, kept thinking about it on and off for nearly a year, and then happily found it again this morning. wyll lets slip he did survival sex work a few times before he was established as the Blade. he has no idea why astarion's making such a big deal about it now. i think what stuck with me about this fic was the deft psychology of it: a Thing can happen to two different people and they can come away with vastly different reactions based on context and personality. this is ESPECIALLY true when it comes to things like sex that are so embedded in the *gestures* "we live in a society" of it all

"a sentimental jury" - domoda. ok so this is straight-up a complete, cohesive noir in under 3k words. this is constructed like original short fiction. this has astarion as a parisian femme fatale and wyll as a put-upon but ultimately honorable german interpol officer with ulterior motives (!!). i read this like i watch a film. voice and prose immaculate. i feel fortunate to exist in a world where someone thought to make this. two thumbs up

"sewn in the lining of me" - @duckbunny. hey, so, uh! wyll vivisection fic. h/c, whump, etc--it's gnarly in real creative ways, folks!!--but truly what sets it apart for me is the astarion pov: the ways his own experiences layer over everything, the...half-strategic half-instinctive dissociation he undergoes while trying to save wyll's life, the lovely quiet scene between the two of them at the end. this is a fic where you can feel the Psychology with a capital p in every line of the narration. brutal. very very pretty also.

"his vengeance need not be feared" - antimonian. wyll's ready to kill mizora, he totally is, except maybe the WAY he wants to kill her makes him a bad person?? man, let me tell you. the prose on this thing alone. packed with gorgeous character insights, deftly-drawn relationships, a mizora that manages to be deeply unsettling in very few words, and an astarion being anxiously supportive in the only ways he knows how (murder; hovering). also featuring a strong wyll&karlach friendship + bard wyll!!

honorable mention for the ravengard fans: "At dream's end" by hellbell, which is beautiful surreal prose from the pov of a tadpole-possessed ulder re: his son. not wyllstarion, just need you to know abt it

godspeed, fellow travelers

[random-thoughts4u]

Moments

Tighnari part 1

Artist: Bunny

The summer breeze, warm and gentle, brushed your skin, carrying the sharp, clean scent of pine. Your gaze swept across the rustic landscape, a patchwork of weathered buildings stubbornly clinging to existence. It was as if the old buildings had their own will, keeping that fire of existing alive.  Walls, a rough mosaic of battered concrete and embedded rocks, encircled the town, creating a sense of isolated tranquility. The calming environment was something that brought you great peace.

Ghost towns, often portrayed as places of dread in stories, held a different allure here. Instead of fear, a strange, wistful familiarity – anemoia – settled over you, a longing for a time you never knew. Echoes of the past dance through your heart as your eyes sweep the area.

(E/C) eyes lingered on the dilapidated homes as you walked, your field journal pressed tightly against your chest, a tangible reminder of your purpose: to study the enigmatic sickness that had gripped this forgotten place.

The sudden crunch of dry leaves behind you snapped you from your reverie. You whirled around, pupils dilating in surprise, before settling on Tighnari. His fox ears twitched, a telltale sign of his amusement.

"Didn't peg you for the jumpy type," he remarked, a playful lilt in his voice. "Try to keep your focus. This place might seem peaceful, but appearances can be deceiving."

His tone shifted, becoming professional, laced with concern. He'd witnessed too many accidents, and as your mentor, he felt a responsibility to ensure your safety, especially when he sensed a shift in your demeanor. A Forest Watcher's duty extended beyond the trees; it was about safeguarding the people and understanding the afflictions of the land.

"Yes, I'll be more mindful," you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of apology. "It's just... I've never seen such an old town so remarkably preserved."

A subtle smirk played on Tighnari's lips. Pride swelled in his multicolored eyes as he surveyed the town, a flicker of contentment and admiration mingling in his gaze. He’d clearly nurtured this place for years. An unspoken bond existed between him and the town, a shared dedication to preserving life. You sensed his quiet satisfaction that you shared his appreciation.

The silence stretched, a shared moment of somber observation, before you both began combing through the ghost town. Hours blurred, yielding only fragmented clues. Abandoned medicine bottles, relics of ailments long vanquished, littered nearly every dwelling.

Faint traces of home remedies, whispers of desperate attempts to combat a virulent flu, lingered in the air. Yet, it wasn't the unsettling abundance of medicine that etched itself into your memory, but the sprawling graveyard. A silent city of weathered stones, punctuated by empty, moss-choked pits, where the earth reclaimed its own.

Though Tighnari tended to this forgotten place, time's relentless tide had eroded its vibrancy. The once-bustling town, now a husk of its former self, stood desolate. Ironically, the very sickness that had sealed its fate now drew curious eyes, fueling the quest for its hidden truths.

The setting sun painted the town in hues of gold, long shadows stretching from the skeletal trees. A wave of disappointment washed over you. The day was waning, and progress felt negligible. You sighed, fingers tracing through your hair, leaving streaks of dried mud. Clay clung stubbornly to your clothes, a testament to the town's tenacious grip. Broken leaves and mulch crunched beneath your feet as you approached the charred remnants of Tighnari's lunch fire.

He stood there, a radiant smile illuminating his features, his eyes shimmering with an inexplicable delight. A frown furrowed your brow. How could he be so content when the day felt so utterly wasted? Sensing your frustration, Tighnari's tail swayed gently as he approached. His gaze softened, noting your disheveled appearance. You looked as weary and forlorn as the town itself.

"What's that face? Feeling disheartened?" His tone was gentle, not mocking. The mystery of the town's demise was a crucial investigation for the Forest Watchers, a potential key to safeguarding Teyvat.

"A little," you admitted, your voice raspy. Tighnari's brow arched. He retrieved his canteen, offering it to you. "Hydration is paramount. You know that better than anyone." A blush warmed your cheeks as a familiar memory surfaced: Cyno carrying your dehydrated form through the desert.

Taking a sip, you couldn't mask the embarrassment that flickered across your face. Tighnari's eyes gleamed with amusement. He'd caught your unspoken recollection.

"Right on cue," he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips. "That accident." You rolled your eyes, handing back the canteen, earning a playful glare. "It wasn't an accident," you retorted. "We were already far out, and turning back seemed unnecessary."

Tighnari folded his arms, feigning a look of exaggerated pity. "Oh, of course. Returning for water would have been the worst." His smile widened. "It's not like we had to halt our entire expedition to ensure your safe return."

A flicker of annoyance pricked you. He was right, of course, and his knowing grin only amplified your chagrin. How did he always manage to be right?

"Yes, yes, I get it. I need to be prepared," you muttered, averting your gaze. Despite looking away, you felt his eyes lingering, a quiet understanding passing between you. These moments of shared camaraderie, even amidst serious investigations, held a unique serenity. It was a silent pact, a shared intimacy in the midst of the desolate landscape.

A spark of interest ignited in Tighnari's eyes, mirroring the unspoken thoughts in your own. Both of you, covered in the grime of the day, were a testament to how hard you worked.

[thedreadvampy]

vaguing a post that's on my dash that I don't want to engage with (as usual) but actually no CPTSD isn't a diagnosis for 'when things were a tiny bit bad a lot' or 'if you experienced relationships that were toxic but not abusive' it's a diagnosis describing the impacts of CONTINUOUS TRAUMA. not less significant but more frequent trauma; trauma which is ongoing/continuous/recurring in developmental years.

like I'm not trying to gatekeep here and I recognise the value of saying 'it doesn't have to be a Single Big Obvious Trauma' because one key thing about CPTSD is that generally it makes traumatic incidents Your Normal so you don't necessarily view them as unusual or concerning. but I often see people talk about CPTSD as if it implies smaller individual incidents than PTSD and that just is not the case.

most experiences I have seen people be diagnosed with CPTSD for (myself included) are not 'a little bit toxic'. they are things which, each incident taken separately, an outsider would still recognise as traumatic - medical emergencies, rape and sexual abuse, significant physical violence, emotional abuse and coercive control, homelessness, severe poverty, war, torture, etc - and the thing that makes the PTSD C is not the relative level of the trauma, but the fact that it's enough of a repeated and consistent pattern, at an early enough stage, and sufficiently embedded in everyday life, that it becomes a person's baseline for 'normal'.

CPTSD is not a synonym for emotional microtraumas or cumulative trauma or 'death by a thousand cuts'. It's specifically defining the psychological differences in response to long term formative trauma as opposed to traumatic events which you process as an aberration (eg the difference between regular violence against you from trusted adults in childhood vs being physically abused for the first time in adulthood with existing experience of healthy relationships). Traumas causing CPTSD tend to be pretty similar in type, scale and severity to traumas causing standard PTSD - they are just more embedded and normalised earlier in life.

all this to say there's nothing wrong with acknowledging that cumulative microtraumas can affect us in traumatic ways. there's nothing wrong with pointing out that there's a broad range of types of trauma, and trauma can include stuff like growing up marginalised or ill as well as abuse, war, injury or immediate loss. there's nothing wrong, too, with acknowledging that a lot that is traumatic doesn't necessarily feel traumatic to you.

but like. no. CPTSD is not a diagnosis for people whose trauma wasn't 'big enough' for PTSD. CPTSD is not cumulative microtraumas. CPTSD is a response to formative macrotraumas or to a long term traumatic situation without hope of escape or change and if you want to talk about microtraumas then do that but it's not what CPTSD is!

[transmutationisms]

(If you're alrght with another poorly articulated question from an obnoxious high schooler) Do you have thoughts on academics and their position in a labor framework? I know some grad students and have never been quite sure where they fit because they don't always work with "capital" in a traditional sense. Professors are odd to me because they are under university contract, but rather than get paid by the university they often get their own funding from the government. Or graduate sudents, who are often unionized, but I know a paleontology student who studies shark fossils who says he doesnt really consider what he does "making surplus value."

ok well that last person is simply confused lol. graduate students exist because the university profits from having us; it is a capitalist institution. most directly we usually work as teaching assistants or research assistants (or else pay tuition) and more indirectly, graduate programs get funding and university support because their existence contributes to a university's rankings, prestige factor, &c, which is to say its (perceived) profitability. plenty of us study things that don't produce much directly lucrative research, but this does not mean the university keeps us around for shits and giggles or some kind of laudatory interest in knowledge for its own sake. it is a capitalist institution and acts in the financial interest of its owners / beneficiaries.

anyway wrt faculty members, they are also employed by the university because it profits from them (or hopes to, anyway). i think many people get confused by tenureship; tenure is indeed fairly cushy as far as employment contracts go, but it is is still an employment contract, and most faculty are not actually tenured anyway. academics are a classic example of the 'professional-managerial class', which is not a marxian term but is a useful one for identifying those 'upper-middle class' members differentiated by their professional qualifications and status; the prestige and perceived utility of academic knowledge production is partially what makes academics an attractive target for a lot of government and NGO funding. state funding of academic research ofc has numerous functions but, and not to put too fine a point on it, a capitalist state also invests money in things because it is hoping for some kind of return on investment, eg in the form of directly profitable inventions, soft power, &c.

there are distinctions here between different academic employment statuses. an adjunct or contingent hire is paid by the university solely to teach, making their labourer status fairly straightforward. with tenured or tenure-track positions, yes there may also be money coming from outside; however, this doesn't negate the fact that the university is trying to profit from its faculty (else it wouldn't hire them). the professional-managerial class has certain characteristics of both proletariat and bourgeoisie, and there is some variation between academics as a very select few do attain the kind of household name status that can turn them into basically a personal brand. again though: the university wants to extract value from the work (both teaching and research) of academics it hires, and so do outside sources of funding for research projects. knowledge production should not be mystified or abstracted in ways that obfuscate the financial interests of involved parties; though it attains a prestige that few other commodities do, this is still a process that is embedded within the overall operating logics of capitalism.

an additional consideration wrt internal academic class politics is that many faculty use graduate students, postdocs, and even undergrads to perform or assist with their research. these arrangements vary in structure (and between disciplines) but in general, this does mean that many academics produce papers, books, &c that depend upon the labour of many people and rarely compensate these people equally to themselves. this can take the form of a more overtly employer-employee relationship between a professor and their underlings (for example, some labs are run this way) or it can be the case that it's another party (a publisher, say) who is reaping most of the surplus value squeezed from grad / undergrad / postdoc labour. in any case it is important to keep in mind that professors can and often do take on employer (ie, small capitalist) roles in relation to other employees of the university, even though the professors themselves are there because the university and other institutions pay them and profit from their labour.

i hope this is a useful start; obviously there is lots else to be said about the economics of the university and knowledge production as a capitalist process. in general when you are trying to think through this my advice would be not to let the presentation of the university as some kind of cerebral place of enlightenment confuse a materialist analysis of the flows of capital. plenty of workers and capitalists deal with commodities that are immaterial in the sense that 'knowledge' is, or are imbued with similar social meaning and value; the university deals with knowledge production but this does not make it any less an employer (ie, a capitalist institution) than any other institution operating in a capitalist context.

[thenixkat]

Looking at the difference between how fandom writes Evil Eye in their fics vs how he's written in the manga and I feel like fans greatly underestimate Evil Eye's intelligence, observational skills, actual power, and self control.

Evil Eye whole ass manipulated Jiji into making a contract with it. We see in at least one extra that it understands the concept of sympathy and is capable of expressing it if it feels like it. He's also had a good while to observe and learn about Jiji as a person. Plus it can hijack a person's mind via eye contact which we know Jiji made eye contact with it twice.

If Evil Eye wanted to take Jiji's body by force it has experience doing that and it had the more powerful will. But instead of doing that he did not speak once to Jiji until it had blasted Jiji with tragic backstory and then appeared to Jiji inside the boy's mind as an emaciated widdle baby that just wanted to get to play with others... That reeks of planning and intent to finesse a bitch.

And Evil Eye in Jiji's head during the exorcism in baby mode and crying was probably not a coincidence in that light.

There's also the whole quickly learns how to adapt and counter battle tactics used against it. In a fight Evil Eye isnt just wildly flailing around having a tantrum. It picked targets, it isolated people or kept others out of the way using its abilities. Shit, Evil Eye was out there fighting like it knows martial arts (and who knows maybe some of the kids it absorbed over the course of 200 yrs had some lessons).

Also Evil!Jiji is immensely physically strong. Some of their feats like embedding Jiji's body up to the hips in asphalt/stone from trying to kick a fucker and missing and rocking the kaiju worm's shit with that punch and kick? With that kind of power it easily could have exploded Ken's head with the first landed punch when it had him trapped in the Cursed House b4 Ken got him with the squat punches. It could have snapped Momo's neck like a twig the moment they got their hands on Momo in the Cursed House towards the end of the Evil Eye arc, instead it elected to strangle the shit out of her.

That seriously implies that Evil Eye is sometimes holding back in these fights just so it can make its opponents suffer for longer. Because it likes to cause pain. Like we also have evidence from the chapter post taming that Evil Eye is aware of games and fun things that don't involve murder. It prefers the murder and dragging shit out b/c that's more fun. And that's likely why it hasn't used its ability to look at someone and make them kill themselves since it got a physical body.

Yes, its a naive child that Ken was able to finesse by exploiting that fact. But writing it as a meathead or an idiot or an innocent baby is a serious disservice to the character.

[natasa-pantovic]

1881 Teatru Malta: An Immersive Journey into Malta’s Fractured Past and Future

https://www.goodreads.com/author_blog_posts/25471251-1881-teatru-malta-an-immersive-journey-into-malta-s-fractured-past-and

881, a groundbreaking theatre experience by Teatru Malta

by Nataša Pantović 1881 brings together an impressive array of talent from local theatre, storytelling, and game design, with each piece of the experience working seamlessly to draw the audience in. The show balances immersion with voyeurism, making you feel both like a participant and an observer — like a puppeteer manipulating the strings, while also being the marionette caught in its dance. Its exploration of Malta's past dependence on external forces resonates with the characters’ own struggles, offering a sensory journey that's as much about reflection as it is about emotional engagement. It’s truly an unforgettable ride.

1881, an immersive theatre experience by Teatru Malta, isn’t your typical theatre outing. The production takes place in a crumbling mansion, Villa Bologna, and presents an alternative version of Malta in 1881 — where time and space warp, history is reinterpreted, and the apocalypse looms. This review will try to balance the intricate elements of the show while hinting at its historical echoes, without spoiling too much of the experience. The delight lies in the unexpected, in discovering hidden corners of the narrative, and making choices that will ultimately shape your journey.

The Premise: A World at the Brink The show kicks off with a masquerade ball, set in a Malta stricken by a deadly plague. Participants are given masks and cloaks, entering a world where the island’s fate mirrors its historical past: dependent on external sources for survival, yet grappling with the forces of scarcity, control, and power. The situation is dire — this is not just a celebration but the last hours before an inevitable end.

Much like how Malta’s population in centuries past relied heavily on imported grain for survival, the characters in 1881 face an impending collapse of their own world, fighting against forces beyond their control. The idea of scarcity and dependence is deeply embedded in the production, reflecting Malta’s own historical dependence on outside forces for sustenance during the Knights of St. John era and later under British rule.

As in the real Malta of the 18th and 19th centuries, where the Grandmaster controlled the wheat trade and the Università was both a supplier and a regulator, the world of 1881 is defined by its restrictive systems and the desperate, often conflicting choices made by those trapped within them. Will you surrender to hedonism, like Mistress Mari, or cling to science and hope for a future? The audience is invited to make choices, to immerse themselves in the world’s intricate webs — just as the Maltese citizens of the past were caught between the control of their rulers and the uncertainty of their external dependencies.

The Experience: Interactive, Immersive, and Unpredictable After donning my robe and mask, I entered the mansion and immediately felt the weight of the atmosphere, a delicate blend of historical tension and surrealist fantasy.

The beauty of this production lies in the unpredictability of the vignettes that unfold before you. Each part of the house offers a new chapter of the narrative, with different characters performing rituals, quests, or disturbing acts. The narrative is non-linear, so each participant will have a different journey. I deliberately avoided aligning with any one faction, choosing instead to infiltrate every scene I could. This approach, like the Maltese population’s historical choice between hedonism or survival under foreign control, allowed me to witness the dramatic tension between the characters as they navigated their fates.

The Performances: The Survivor (Nicholas Jackman): Jackman’s performance was one of the most unnerving. His intensity as a character driven by survival instincts, constantly on edge, was palpable. The tension between this character’s actions and the world around him made for an incredibly engaging experience. Like the Maltese of the past, Jackman’s character was constantly at the mercy of forces beyond his control.

Will, The Deathseeker (Christian Scicluna): Scicluna’s portrayal was both commanding and vulnerable. I spent a lot of time with his character, trying to unravel the puzzle he presented. His struggles also mirrored Malta’s struggle against its overwhelming external dependencies and the inescapable forces shaping its destiny. Eve, The Spiritual (Sandie von Brockdorff): Von Brockdorff’s portrayal of Eve is particularly striking. Her character, dedicated to the idea of salvation and prayer, navigates a world full of moral conflict. Her character's uncompromising faith could be seen as an echo of Malta’s historical struggle for stability and its faith-driven resistance to external forces. The Humanist (Becky Camilleri): Camilleri’s character is one of moral balance, offering an alternative to the more extreme factions at play. The subtleties in her performance added to the richness of the world, suggesting a more reasoned approach to the chaos unfolding around her. Mistress Mari (Silvana Maimone): As the hedonist, Maimone embodies the immersive theatre experience, keeping her character alive and grounded in a world of decadence, even as it crumbles around her. Her performance brings to mind the Maltese dependency on external resources — her pleasures, too, are fleeting, tied to the fragile state of the world. The test subject (Ema Pantovic): Pantovic’s performance in the final scenes of 1881 was haunting. Her character’s madness, resulting from cruel experimentation, was a stark reflection of Malta’s historical connection to slavery and its tragic legacies. Her uncompromising resistance to the world around her mirrored the struggle of enslaved people fighting for autonomy, and her actions at the climax sent a chilling reminder of the pain caused by oppressive forces. Her performance acted as a disturbing counterpoint to the other characters' quests for meaning and survival. The remaining characters — The Butler (Philip Leone Ganado), The Maid (Michela Farrugia), and The Doorkeeper (Marija Grech) — act as the guides, leading the audience through the experience and providing a sense of structure in the otherwise disorienting world. What Worked: Craft, Detail, and Immersive Magic There is so much to love about 1881 that it's hard to know where to begin. The costumes (designed by Luke Dimech) and set design (by Sven Bonnici) were exquisite — each room felt like a new world unto itself. The small, quirky details, from the props to the faintly sinister aromas in the air, created an immersive experience that fully transported me to another time and place.

The sound design (by Yasmin Kuymizakis) and lighting (by Toni Gialanzé) were masterfully executed. The soundscapes, particularly during the quiet, reflective moments in the garden with Eve, heightened the sense of being lost in another dimension, while the lighting added layers of mystery and tension. The blending of these elements made the experience feel deeply tactile and real.

At no point did I feel like I could predict what would happen next. Just like Malta’s historical vulnerability to external forces, 1881 thrives on its unpredictability, forcing you to adapt, question, and make choices. For the full review check https://www.artof4elements.com/?e=330

Teatru Malta

[compneuropapers]

Interesting Papers for Week 51, 2024

Learning depends on the information conveyed by temporal relationships between events and is reflected in the dopamine response to cues. Balsam, P. D., Simpson, E. H., Taylor, K., Kalmbach, A., & Gallistel, C. R. (2024). Science Advances, 10(36).

Inferred representations behave like oscillators in dynamic Bayesian models of beat perception. Cannon, J., & Kaplan, T. (2024). Journal of Mathematical Psychology, 122, 102869.

Different temporal dynamics of foveal and peripheral visual processing during fixation. de la Malla, C., & Poletti, M. (2024). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 121(37), e2408067121.

Organizing the coactivity structure of the hippocampus from robust to flexible memory. Gava, G. P., Lefèvre, L., Broadbelt, T., McHugh, S. B., Lopes-dos-Santos, V., Brizee, D., … Dupret, D. (2024). Science, 385(6713), 1120–1127.

Saccade size predicts onset time of object processing during visual search of an open world virtual environment. Gordon, S. M., Dalangin, B., & Touryan, J. (2024). NeuroImage, 298, 120781.

Selective consistency of recurrent neural networks induced by plasticity as a mechanism of unsupervised perceptual learning. Goto, Y., & Kitajo, K. (2024). PLOS Computational Biology, 20(9), e1012378.

Measuring the velocity of spatio-temporal attention waves. Jagacinski, R. J., Ma, A., & Morrison, T. N. (2024). Journal of Mathematical Psychology, 122, 102874.

Distinct Neural Plasticity Enhancing Visual Perception. Kondat, T., Tik, N., Sharon, H., Tavor, I., & Censor, N. (2024). Journal of Neuroscience, 44(36), e0301242024.

Applying Super-Resolution and Tomography Concepts to Identify Receptive Field Subunits in the Retina. Krüppel, S., Khani, M. H., Schreyer, H. M., Sridhar, S., Ramakrishna, V., Zapp, S. J., … Gollisch, T. (2024). PLOS Computational Biology, 20(9), e1012370.

Nested compressed co-representations of multiple sequential experiences during sleep. Liu, K., Sibille, J., & Dragoi, G. (2024). Nature Neuroscience, 27(9), 1816–1828.

On the multiplicative inequality. McCausland, W. J., & Marley, A. A. J. (2024). Journal of Mathematical Psychology, 122, 102867.

Serotonin release in the habenula during emotional contagion promotes resilience. Mondoloni, S., Molina, P., Lecca, S., Wu, C.-H., Michel, L., Osypenko, D., … Mameli, M. (2024). Science, 385(6713), 1081–1086.

A nonoscillatory, millisecond-scale embedding of brain state provides insight into behavior. Parks, D. F., Schneider, A. M., Xu, Y., Brunwasser, S. J., Funderburk, S., Thurber, D., … Hengen, K. B. (2024). Nature Neuroscience, 27(9), 1829–1843.

Formalising the role of behaviour in neuroscience. Piantadosi, S. T., & Gallistel, C. R. (2024). European Journal of Neuroscience, 60(5), 4756–4770.

Cracking and Packing Information about the Features of Expected Rewards in the Orbitofrontal Cortex. Shimbo, A., Takahashi, Y. K., Langdon, A. J., Stalnaker, T. A., & Schoenbaum, G. (2024). Journal of Neuroscience, 44(36), e0714242024.

Sleep Consolidation Potentiates Sensorimotor Adaptation. Solano, A., Lerner, G., Griffa, G., Deleglise, A., Caffaro, P., Riquelme, L., … Della-Maggiore, V. (2024). Journal of Neuroscience, 44(36), e0325242024.

Input specificity of NMDA-dependent GABAergic plasticity in the hippocampus. Wiera, G., Jabłońska, J., Lech, A. M., & Mozrzymas, J. W. (2024). Scientific Reports, 14, 20463.

Higher-order interactions between hippocampal CA1 neurons are disrupted in amnestic mice. Yan, C., Mercaldo, V., Jacob, A. D., Kramer, E., Mocle, A., Ramsaran, A. I., … Josselyn, S. A. (2024). Nature Neuroscience, 27(9), 1794–1804.

Infant sensorimotor decoupling from 4 to 9 months of age: Individual differences and contingencies with maternal actions. Ying, Z., Karshaleva, B., & Deák, G. (2024). Infant Behavior and Development, 76, 101957.

Learning to integrate parts for whole through correlated neural variability. Zhu, Z., Qi, Y., Lu, W., & Feng, J. (2024). PLOS Computational Biology, 20(9), e1012401.

[butternutt613]

Can’t believe I missed your ask reblog! We’re both doing this yayyyyy!

For Diana~

1, 9, 14, 17, 21, 23, 24

For Diana and Ominis~

C, F, G, M, N, O, T, U

For YOU~

💋🔥🏳️‍🌈📖‼️

Love you Cass!

AHHHHHHH I LOVE YOUUUUU!!! These were all so so so helpful for me so thank youuuuuuu 💖💖💖

Diana~

1. First big aspiration (i.e. what did they want to be when they grew up?)

She went to the MoMA on a school trip in Elementary and saw many of the great artists but Van Gogh's Starry Night stuck with her and is part of the reason she started to paint the sky and galaxies

9. First time living away from home

She never really had a home growing up, she was in foster care from a relatively young age, a ward of the state of New York (still working out how and why) when she turned 18, she wanted a fresh start, moved across the country to attend UC Berkeley with a major in Art Practice. This was her first time living on her own and it was very freeing for her and eye opening. It helped her to develop friendships she never had before. This is when she met her now best friend Sebastian

14. First time facing their fears

Diana fears being trapped. When she graduated college, she started working as a graphic designer for a small indie company. At first it was very rewarding and fun working with these passionate people, however, after The company grew seemingly Overnight, she was sort of left behind and took on more and more work and it was not what she wanted. She didn't feel like she could just leave but she also wasn't happy. Eventually Sebastian managed to convince her to leave her position and focus on her art as that is what truly made her happy.

17. First favorites - favorite color, animal, movie, etc.

Hmm okay I think her favorite animals are cats, specifically leopards. That's why she has a Bengal cat (who still needs a name…), she cant have just one favorite color! But she is particularly fond of the blues. Her favorite food is a bowl of stuff, like a buddha bowl or smoothie bowl with all the fixings. She needs texture and a different bite every time. She is pescatarian (no meat, only fish she also doesn't really eat shellfish)

21. First major change in their life, and how they dealt with it

Similar to number 9, her first major change was moving across the country. She threw herself into the art communities on campus but it wasn't necessarily a hard transition. She finally felt comfortable and at peace.

23. First display of their powers or abilities

Our first time seeing her create is in the dreamscape:

Diana stood at the water’s edge, her bare feet sinking into the white sand. The waves lapped at her ankles, leaving behind glowing trails as they retreated. Even the ocean itself sought to cling to her presence. She lifted a hand, fingers outstretched, and beckoned for the sea. The tide returned swirling and lapping at her ankles as though she was a part of it.

Extending her hand toward the sky, the water rose in a graceful arc that caught the final rays of the setting sun. Like liquid crystal, the water shimmered, refracting the light into a cascade of colors. A brilliant rainbow unfurled across the twilight, bridging the gap between the heavens and the sea, pulsing with hues more vivid than mere mortals could comprehend.

And then-

The rainbow exploded into thousands of shimmering stars, each droplet igniting as it drifted upward, embedding itself into the darkening heavens. The sky inhaled, and the stars settled into their place, constellations of Diana’s own making. Unique and as brilliant as her.

The sea had given birth to the cosmos.

24. First major loss/failure in their story

Hmmmmmm I would say that the first loss in Diana's story is when she learns her ancestry is [redacted]. It's not necessarily a loss but more of the fact that she has to come to terms with the fact that she is not who she thought she was. Its a loss of her sense of self identity but it also blooms into her new identity.

Diana and Ominis~

C. First physical contact (handshake? hug? something else?)

Ominis is unable to touch dreamers in the dreamscapes. When he first saw Diana, he was captivated; he almost forgot about that fact. She turned to face him, really see him. No one else had ever seen him before. But she did. He reached out, expecting his hand to pass through her. But he Didn't. His fingers pressed into her cheek, brushing back one of her curls and he fell. He fell hard.

F. First date

Technically their first date is that first night in Diana's dreamscape when they stay up all night talking. In the waking world, they will usually stay in Diana's apartment (Ominis loves diana's cat) and it's not until she introduces him to Sebastian that they really venture out together

G. First time seeing the other one sick/injured

Ominis was terrified. Being immortal and not of this world, he never realized the fragility of human life. Diana comes down with just a simple cold or the flu and is in bed all day, maybe in and out of dreaming, and her dreams are not the same as usual. Her dreams are weak, she is not creating as Ominis knows her to do and that scares him. He thinks she is dying. So he visits her in the waking world with this heavy look on his face, and Diana is confused and concerned but when she discovers the root cause of his grief she just laughs and reassures him she is okay. By the next day she is right as rain.

M. First time they introduced the other as partner

It would be Diana introducing Ominis to her best friend Sebastian. She had told Sebastian all about the God who had been visiting her in her sleep and he was a little skeptical at first but after meeting Ominis for the “first time” he has a startling realization that he [redacted]

N. First road-trip/vacation together

Do the stars count?

I think they would travel to the coast together so Ominis could experience the ocean in the waking world. He would love the sound of the ocean and the scent of the salt in the air.

O. First double-date with another couple

Ooooo without giving too much away, the first double date would be Ominis, Diana, Sebastian and [redacted] it would probably be in the waking world at a cozy cafe or a picnic in the park. Just really relaxed and low pressure.

T. First time dancing together

It was on the beach in the dream world and she took Ominis by the hand, and because it is her dreamscape, music started to play, a gentle rhythm that had her swaying. Ominis had never danced before so she guided him and he just fell even more in love

U. First pet names/nicknames they give each other

For Diana, From Ominis: My Cosmos, Little Dreamer (used towards the beginning of their relationship when he still tried to separate himself from her) and Beloved

For Ominis, From Diana: Diana will usually call him by just Ominis but she will also use Starboy, My Dream, My Moon and Love

For me!!

💋 Favorite "first kiss" scene you've written between two characters

It has to be Charlotte and Ominis, hands down.

Yes, it was at their wedding but it is just so chaste and soft and then their second and third being on the train to their honeymoon is just as perfect ahhhh I love them

🔥 First time writing romance/spicy scenes, and how you felt about it

I don't really remember the very first time i wrote smut but the one I do remember was for my poly og story, Soldier Poet King and ooooo boy (looking back its kinda cringe) at the time, I thought it was some of the hottest stuff ever and the start of my body worship phase that I still haven't grown out of lmao

🏳️‍🌈 First queer character/story you wrote

My very first queer story is not posted but is called the Paralian Prince and involves Selkies. Basically the premise is that the king and queen of the Selkies had an albino baby and in the wild seals have been known to reject pups that are albino so they cast the baby out and this other little boy selkie bring the baby to the shore and takes the babys fur So he can live with the humans. Then years later, the boy that saved the prince gets captured in the princes net and reveals himself. And then lots of other stuff happens and in the end, they live happily ever after.

📖 Piece you'd recommend as a "first piece" for a new reader to enjoy

Ooooo I think a good first piece would be the cherry cola lip balm one shot. Uggg I will be talking about this until the day I die

‼️ Free space! Tell us about a notable "first" in your writing journey!

Okay! The Light In My Darkness was actually the first fanfic I had ever written and published! It was also my first time writing for a blind character and a mute character so it has helped me develop myself as a writer! Even in just the last 6 months, I feel my writing style has changed quite a bit!!

[catras-breakup-song]

Hi.

I won't reply to you anonymously because I'm not scared/ashamed to debate openly, but first I wanted to ask: What do you mean Shadow Weaver would be raised by "mom" and Adora would be raised by "dad?" Hordak and SW literally had no romantic feelings for each other, they never dated, they were never married/divorced.

Adora and Catra would both have been raised by a single mother/father and them being childhood friends would have made sense since they wouldn't share an adoptive parent like they do in canon.

And even if the sources I mentioned about C//A being sisters aren't canon or what the show was going for, they kinda uh... Still put that dynamic IN the show? And since it's there, it's not illogical that some people are turned off by the ship. This person explained it perfectly: https://www.tumblr.com/anti-catradora-receipts/631728237468401664/the-fact-that-apparently-these-2-started-out-as?source=share

Not to mention that it basically resembles ANOTHER sibling relationship in fiction, which the same person talked about: https://www.tumblr.com/anti-catradora-receipts/637045171905789952/i-have-only-seen-clips-of-the-show-on-youtube-and?source=share

If C//A brings you happiness though, continue enjoying the ship and don't mind me. Also, if you wanna publish my reply to the public, go on.

with respect (which i genuinely appreciate you giving first), i think you may be confused, because i wasn't actually proposing a romantic dynamic between hordak and shadow weaver or them working together as parents; the context was that the person i was reblogging from had seen someone make a claim that what should have happened in canon was catra & adora were raised separately, and i challenged that logic, hence why i put those phrases in quotes when i compared it to a hypothetical realistic situation.

as far as the rest of your message goes, i think we just see shadow weaver differently and to me that's okay. i read through the first* post you linked (embedding it to make it more conveniently accessible), and i can see where they're coming from about her gestures towards the girls being maternal in an objective sense, but personally as i stated in one of my original post's points (which you may want to read through again if you haven't already), i think they both end up rejecting her as having ever truly been a mother as opposed to an assigned guardian. what i mean by this is, i suppose, how people say the title of mother should be earned, or else they may just be called an "egg donor" since that relationship was disowned by the child but doesn't take away from the fact that they gave birth (and a similar equivalent along those lines for adoptive ones, like SW).

*i briefly glanced through the other one, but i'm not sure i would understand since i've never known of that media.

considering everything she did was so manipulative, including body language, i just have a hard time accepting that her intentions were ever motherly (whether her actions actually were or not are up for debate & interpretation, in my opinion). the girls obviously wouldn't have understood this while they were kids, but once they grow older and the events of the story kick off, it seems to me like they deny having a mother in the past at all as they start learning to heal, because ideally having been orphans would be a less disturbing implication to them than what they got to experience instead.

that being said, i can't ignore the very last part of that receipt blog's post of the confession about the little girl. however, i think it goes far beyond just the discourse about them being sisters or lovers, considering some of the show's greater themes revolve around mature topics such as war & abuse. the writers have to be very careful about all the messages they're sending to a Y7-rated audience, such as "how far can someone go before crossing the line?" and "can certain people even be redeemed?" and "does not being a perfect victim by perpetuating the cycle of abuse mean you don't deserve to heal and be loved?" ─ i think these two analysis videos by "the sin squad" on youtube, that came out both before and after season five released respectively, cover this very valid concern pretty well, and they're worth a watch if you're still interested!

i hope this makes sense and what i'm trying to convey here comes across as i want it to. if not though, you're free to ask more questions and i'll do my best to communicate! i'd be happy to talk more since you're coming to me in good faith and don't shut out what i have to say. have a nice timezone, wherever you are! 𖹭

by the way, these banners are not here for you specifically, i just don't want nasty antis to come in and start arguing with me where they weren't invited, since they take a lot of mental effort to deal with. you are not one of them, in case that's not obvious! and thank you for clarifying that i can post this publicly or else i wouldn't be sure.

[whencyclopedia]

Upanishads

The Upanishads are the philosophical-religious texts of Hinduism (also known as Sanatan Dharma meaning “Eternal Order” or “Eternal Path”) which develop and explain the fundamental tenets of the religion. The name is translated as to “sit down closely” as one would to listen attentively to instruction by a teacher or other authority figure.

At the same time, Upanishad has also been interpreted to mean “secret teaching” or “revealing underlying truth”. The truths addressed are the concepts expressed in the religious texts known as the Vedas which orthodox Hindus consider the revealed knowledge of creation and the operation of the universe.

The word veda means “knowledge” and the four Vedas are thought to express the fundamental knowledge of human existence. These works are considered Shruti in Hinduism meaning “what is heard” as they are thought to have emanated from the vibrations of the universe and heard by the sages who composed them orally before they were written down between c. 1500 - c. 500 BCE. The Upanishads are considered the “end of the Vedas” (Vedanta) in that they expand upon, explain, and develop the Vedic concepts through narrative dialogues and, in so doing, encourage one to engage with said concepts on a personal, spiritual level.

There are between 180-200 Upanishads but the best known are the 13 which are embedded in the four Vedas known as:

Rig Veda

Sama Veda

Yajur Veda

Atharva Veda

The Rig Veda is the oldest and the Sama Veda and Yajur Veda draw from it directly while the Atharva Veda takes a different course. All four, however, maintain the same vision, and the Upanishads for each of these address the themes and concepts expressed. The 13 Upanishads are:

Brhadaranyaka Upanishad

Chandogya Upanishad

Taittiriya Upanishad

Aitareya Upanishad

Kausitaki Upanishad

Kena Upanishad

Katha Upanishad

Isha Upanishad

Svetasvatara Upanishad

Mundaka Upanishad

Prashna Upanishad

Maitri Upanishad

Mandukya Upanishad

Their origin and dating are considered unknown by some schools of thought but, generally, their composition is dated to between c. 800 - c. 500 BCE for the first six (Brhadaranyaka to Kena) with later dates for the last seven (Katha to Mandukya). Some are attributed to a given sage while others are anonymous. Many orthodox Hindus, however, regard the Upanishads, like the Vedas, as Shruti and believe they have always existed. In this view, the works were not so much composed as received and recorded.

The Upanishads deal with ritual observance and the individual's place in the universe and, in doing so, develop the fundamental concepts of the Supreme Over Soul (God) known as Brahman (who both created and is the universe) and that of the Atman, the individual's higher self, whose goal in life is union with Brahman. These works defined, and continue to define, the essential tenets of Hinduism but the earliest of them would also influence the development of Buddhism, Jainism, Sikhism, and, after their translation to European languages in the 19th century CE, philosophical thought around the world.

Early Development

There are two differing claims regarding the origin of Vedic thought. One claims that it was developed in the Indus Valley by the people of the Harappan Civilization (c. 7000-600 BCE). Their religious concepts were then exported to Central Asia and returned later (c. 3000 BCE) during the so-called Indo-Aryan Migration. The second school of thought, more commonly accepted, is that the religious concepts were developed in Central Asia by the people who referred to themselves as Aryans (meaning “noble” or “free” and having nothing to do with race) who then migrated to the Indus Valley, merged their beliefs and culture with the indigenous people, and developed the religion which would become Sanatan Dharma. The term 'Hinduism' is an exonym (a name given by others to a concept, practice, people, or place) from the Persians who referred to the peoples living across the Indus River as Sindus.

The second claim has wider scholarly support because proponents are able to cite similarities between the early religious beliefs of the Indo-Iranians (who settled in the region of modern-day Iran) and the Indo-Aryans who migrated to the Indus Valley. These two groups are thought to have initially been part of a larger nomadic group which then separated toward different destinations.

Whichever claim one supports, the religious concepts expressed by the Vedas were maintained by oral tradition until they were written down during the so-called Vedic Period of c. 1500 - c. 500 BCE in the Indo-Aryan language of Sanskrit. The central texts of the Vedas themselves, as noted, are understood to be the received messages of the Universe, but embedded in them are practical measures for living a life in harmony with the order the Universe revealed. The texts which deal with this aspect, which are also considered Shruti by orthodox Hindus, are:

Aranyakas – rituals and observances

Brahmanas – commentaries on the rituals

Samhitas – benedictions, mantras, prayers

Upanishads – philosophical dialogues in narrative form

Taken together, the Vedas present a unified vision of the Eternal Order revealed by the Universe and how one is supposed to live in it. This vision was developed through the school of thought known as Brahmanism which recognized the many gods of the Hindu pantheon as aspects of a single God – Brahman – who both caused and was the Universe. Brahmanism would eventually develop into what is known as Classical Hinduism, and the Upanishads are the written record of the development of Hindu philosophical thought.

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