#myri speaks

[myriahkamm]

Finished knitting a blanket for my nephew as a graduation gift.

Used a variegated acrylic yarn and a diagonal stitch (that's really hard to see with this yarn, as it turns out 😅).

It's basically a large throw blanket (big enough to curl up and sleep under if you're short like me).

I like how it turned out, if I say so myself. I only screwed up the pattern in a few spots, and since the pattern is hard to see in the first place, it's even harder to see the mistakes.

This took me a few months (knitting in my free time, and when I wasn't working on socks for my sister lol). Someday, I'd like to get faster. Gotta remind myself that I'm still pretty new at this. 😅

[seri-tonin]

Actually I lied Baizhu isn't really a greyace omniromantic transmasc using any/all pronouns with POTS and a mobility aid he refuses to use in public to preserve his "untouchable by any disease" facade until it's too late. Definitely not.

... April Fools >:) I would never say such things !!! My darling he has every disease and pronoun known to man. Happy husband month also, it's gonna be a wild one

Real

[author-a-holmes]

Happy Blorbo Blursday! Which one of your characters would benefit from modern medication the most? If your characters are modern, what medication would help them that they're not on?

Hello! Thank you for the ask ^_^

Just going to CW and TW for mental health discussion, trauma, torture, agoraphobia, and destructive coping mechanisms, although I don't go into detail about any of them they are mentioned in relation to my characters here.

Most of my WIPS have magic and so many, if not all, physical illnesses have a magical, herbal, or science based treatment. And while not it's often not a cure-all, it's usually a better treatment than real-world modern medicine would be able to supply.

Having said that, I do feel like Moryann, the setting for my book Stolen, could do with some serious mental health professionals. In particular, I think my Wizard Myris could make some use of that as he has some mild agoraphobia and ptsd from some torture in his past which was the cause of his lost voice.

But he does, at least, have his own coping mechanisms in place.

I feel like the person who would benefit most from a long series of therapy sessions is probably Reilly Mosswolf. He has night terrors, and a lot of trauma from his childhood. Both his parents and his sister were murdered (different times, different events, different people behind their deaths) and he doesn't like getting close to people as a result. He doesn't do well with looking after himself when left to his own devices, but Reilly also doesn't cope well with being "mothered" as he puts it.

He also has a bad habit of being self destructive as a way to cope, such as getting drunk or getting into bar fights. But he is trying and he does get better over the course of the books, I just think he'd benefit from a mental health professional giving him better ways to cope with his issues.

Disclaimer: Answered August 12th. Scheduled for September 13th

[wvsteria]

myri tiure & alani tiure @mcrcki

"what the hell did you just say?" myri questioned, when hearing the other speaking. the words didn't sound like any language she knew, and even worse she was confused why she understood what they were saying.

[notchainedtotrauma]

This song analysis is exclusive to my Raspberry Lemonade (1$), Iced Green Tea (5$) and Black Coffee (10$) patrons. It's centered around To Be Invisible by Curtis Mayfield.

eliza myrie, well

The work of art above best describe the song analysis. Here are some excerpts to whet your appetite:

"Through the opening notes is rendered bellowing children hosed by fire hydrants, perfectly coiffed women with a cigarette held wrist, porch conversations, the mundanity of a stretching summer. Yet, as the sound elongates, then starts rising a dolorous desire, a yearning but empty embrace. And then Curtis Mayfield, between grief and testimony, speaking of the absence of a self he could possibly claim, opening himself to the (sur)reality of his blank."

and

"...as the world had seared, ripped, punctured him, body and soul, he chose what Harriet Jacobs called her loophole of retreat. But unlike Ms Jacobs, for Curtis, the garret remains and will remain a garret, a trade off between the constriction of mundane antiblackness and the necessary opacity of invisibility."

[brandyllyn]

In our own image (19)

Chapter 19

(Poe Dameron x OFC)

Other chapters...

My Masterlist

Word count: 2300. Read it on AO3.

Rating: T (PG) suggestive prose. mind control.

"Look, we need information and you…" Poe thought for a second has he tightened the thigh strap for his blaster. "You are a little deferential to them."

"I can comport myself amongst the Honored Ones," Chewie said with a growl.

"You just called them 'Honored Ones', " Poe pointed out, setting his foot down on the Falcon’s flooring.

Chewie huffed but didn’t argue further, cleaning his crossbow.

"Look, it should be fifteen minutes, I’ll go in. Ask about Havan. Get out. No issues." Poe checked his pockets one last time. "Maybe thirty since I have to walk there."

Chewie rolled his eyes. "Poor Dameron, we landed too far from his destination and now he has to walk."

Poe narrowed his eyes. Were Wookies capable of sarcasm? Chewie met his gaze and Poe decided not to ask. He turned to go, wishing he had BB-8 with him for company at least. The droid had been left with Rey back on Ajan Kloss. He checked once more for his emergency beacon. If he had to use it… well he didn’t want to be the person on the receiving end of seven feet of angry Wookie.

Delacrix was a rocky planet with virtually no habitable land above ground. But it had a livable atmosphere for humanoids which gave rise to an extensive set of underground encampments - bordering on cities. The Falcon had landed deep within one of the many ravines and Poe ducked his head to avoid the heavy winds that whipped through the canyon as he ran to the nearest entry to Delta6.

If someone had bothered to impose rule on this planet there would probably be some sort of uniform naming convention. As it was - Delta6 was one of the larger encampments that made use of the natural caves and then carved further into the rocks. He noticed several people eyeing him as he went by and he avoided making eye contact until the tunnel opened into a large cavern.

There were tables everywhere, people hawking food and services. He noticed someone wearing half of an Imperial Stormtrooper’s armor, the white now decorated with extensive graffiti.

"Nice," he nodded at them as they went by.

"Wanna buy? Only six thousand credits."

Poe nearly choked on the exorbitant amount and shook his head instead. The person shrugged and continued onward. Someone else caught his arm.

"Jogan, straight from Lothal. Ten credits each. A delicacy at any price sir."

Poe looked and then refocused downward. It was a child. A human child. He looked around, trying to see if he could see an adult but there was no one nearby paying the kid any mind.

"I’ll buy two," he said, flashing a handful of credits. He made them disappear quickly as the child’s eye became hungry, "If you can tell me where to find the Chasinians."

"The who?" The kid asked, eyes still locked on Poe’s hands.

"Look like us, but they have markings." He drew a finger across his forehead and then down his cheek and neck.

"The Sirens?" The kid took a step back. They looked at Poe and then swallowed. "How much will you give me?"

Poe snorted, dropping the twenty credits into the kid’s hands. "Another twenty if you take me there."

The kid quickly stuffed the money into their clothes, handing Poe two of the jogans. Poe handed one back. "This one is for you."

"Really?"

Poe took a bite of the one in his hand. "What am I going to do with two?"

It turned out the Chasinians weren’t far. Down three tunnels and two left turns. When he got to the door the kid held their hand out and Poe dropped the money, catching the kid by the collar before they could run away.

"You sure?"

"Yes sir," the kid squirmed. "Don’t know why you’d be wanting to go there though."

He let go and the kid left, disappearing around the corner with a metaphorical cloud of dust in their wake. Poe studied the door. It was heavy, made of scrap pieces of metal and forged to fit the hole in the wall. It was large too. The largest he’d seen so far. It was certainly fancier than anything else in Delta6.

He knocked.

A few moments later a Cerean answered, holding the door wide and raking him from head to foot with an assessing gaze.

"I’m here to see-" Poe started but the man motioned him inside, shutting the door with a clang behind them.

"Follow me," the Cerean said.

Poe followed.

The room he was led to was large, with a set of soft glowing lights in the ceiling. There were several small plants darted around, flowering even in the lack of sunlight.  Gauzy fabric hung seemingly randomly. People of various races wandered to and fro, carrying jugs and platters. The focus of the room seemed to be on three women, lounging across three couches. They were wearing diaphanous robes, and the people nearby were entirely focused on them.

All three had the tell tale markings of Chasin.

"An offering oh Glorious Ones," the Cerean announced and Poe gave the man a sharp look.

"Offering?"

The Chasinian the furthest to his left stretched, arms above her head and her sheer blue robes gaping open. Her brown hair was falling over her shoulder. Like Kina, one side was shorter than the other - on her it was shaved into a flowing lotus pattern. He could see every curve of her pale body beneath the robe when she twisted around to look at him. If he didn’t already know for a fact that the rosettes went all the way down, he knew now. "It has been so long since one made an offering of themself sisters," she purred, her eyes raking down him. "And such a lovely one at that."

Poe coughed. "I’m, uh, not sure I’m offering myself for anything."

The woman on his right turned her attention to him, giving him a slow look. "Do you seek succor then?" Her hair was white halo around half of her head, stark against her dark skin, with the other side shaved down to a scale-like pattern on skin so dark that her rosettes were almost invisible. She took a flagon of something from a nearby servant as she spoke, the sleeve of her green robe falling back to reveal golden bangles covering her arm to the elbow.

"Now now sisters, let us see what the man desires." He had avoided looking at the woman directly in front of him. Her coloring, her face - she looked so much like Kina that he had felt his heart stop for a moment when he saw her, certain that it was her. But there were differences, most noticeably the hair - this woman’s hair much longer than Kina’s and like the other two, she had a half of it shaved into a pattern. But her eyes… her eyes were different. As she turned her full attention on him he felt himself swallow, his hands clenching quickly at his sides.

Poe began to think that coming here had been a mistake.

"Tell us human," the woman who seemed to be the leader asked. The one in white who was most definitely not Kina. "Tell us what you desire if it is not an offering?"

Poe heard someone begin to hum and he felt the hairs on his arm stand up, a tingle racing up his spine. He made a split second decision and took a step back.

"I’m afraid I came here by mistake. My apologies for bothering you lovely ladies." No one in the room moved but Poe felt like he was surrounded. Trapped.

"A mistake?" The brunette asked with a flash of blue as she slung her legs off the side of the couch. Someone rushed forward to place a pair of delicate slippers on her feet. "A happy one then."

"You are handsome," the woman in green rose from her couch, her bare feet soundless against the stone floor. "Perhaps you would like to stay? What say you Myri, should we keep him?"

The woman in white, not Kina but Myri, laughed and it rolled over him like music. Weaving into the humming of the women to each side of her. "It’s not everyday an offering arrives - willing or otherwise." He idly remembered that he had a blaster by his side, but it seemed far away at the moment. "Tell me, will you stay?"

Poe swallowed, "Stay?"

A laugh, from somewhere. He couldn’t tell. The room seemed to be shrinking and expanding at the same time. "Stay with us."

"I can’t, I have… things. I have to do." He stumbled over the words, feeling like he was speaking past a ball of wax in his mouth.

"What could be more important than us?" The woman in green pouted, reaching a hand out to him as she got closer, trailing it across his arm as she went past him. She seemed to speak around the hums she was making.

"Shh, Sabé, you don’t know this man," Myri chided, rising from the couch, her robes doing little to hide the dark gold of her skin or the path of markings from her forehead to her toes. Poe couldn’t take his eyes off of her. A pair of men appeared at each side of her, kneeling and holding their hands up so she could use them when she set her feet to the floor. "I’m sure he has very important business to attend to."

"Tell us," the woman in blue made barely a whisper of noise as she moved around the outside of the room. "Tell us what you do that is more important than us."

"I’m… fighting." Why was it so hot in here? And what was that rumbling noise in the back of his head. A thumping almost - like he could hear his heartbeat. He shook his head, "Fighting the first order."

"Fighting?" Sabé asked from somewhere behind him. "That sounds terrible. Why would you ever want to leave us for that?"

"Why the struggle, why the strain?"

Who was singing? Myri was close now, close enough to touch him. She reached out and tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear and he felt his skin burn along the path of her touch.

"Why make trouble? Why make scenes?"

Across the room Poe met the eye of one of the servants. A man a few years younger than him kneeling on the floor. The man looked… blank. As thought someone had removed all thoughts from him.

"I’m sorry, I need to go," he tried to say it but the words came out a jumbled mess. Myri smiled and Poe wondered how he could ever have mistaken this woman for Kina. Her eyes were hard, her smile cruel.

"Why go against the grain? Why swim upstream?"

"I need to go," Poe tried again, managing to choke the words out even as he stumbled back a step. Hands caught him, a mouth almost touching his ear. The voices were coming from all around him, echoing over each other.

"It ain’t…"

"It ain’t…"

"It ain't no use…"

More hands were on him, behind him, tugging him, holding him upright. No, trying to drag him to his knees. He swayed, blinking against the lethargy that was crawling over him. It would be easier to sleep. To let these women draw him to the ground and just… what?

"You're bound…"

"You're bound…"

"You're bound to lose…"

He leaned into the women behind him, watched as Myri - golden luscious Myri - stepped into the space he made. Someone was nuzzling behind one of his ears. Someone else had a hand inside his shirt. This was what he was meant for. To live life in service to these creatures. To devote his life to their happiness.

"What's done…"

"What's done…"

"What's done is done…"

He could be done. He could just stay here. With them. These beautiful women. All they wanted was to take care of him. Make his life simpler. Wasn’t that what he wanted? A simple life? Away from all the fighting and the war and just be able to rest.

"That's the way the river runs…

His body was wound tight. His hands clenched into fists at his side. He could feel sweat running down his spine. Why was he so tense? Why was his body fighting so hard? He needed to concentrate on them. Concentrate on their song.

"So why get wet? Why break a sweat?"

There was no point to the fight. To the Resistance. They had been losing since before he had joined. Would continue losing long after he walked away. This was his chance. His chance to make a clean break. To serve something real and important. The galaxy was always going to have good and evil and every generation the two would engage in another pointless war. He didn’t need to involve himself.

"Why waste your precious breath? Why beat your handsome brow?"

He was sinking. Felt his knees hit the floor. They were above him. His masters. His goddesses. He would die for any one of them. Wanted to offer right then. His head tilted back and he saw their faces. Those beautiful, terrible faces rising over him.

"Nothing changes…"

One of them touched his cheek and he turned his mouth into the touch, chasing it. Wanting more. Wanting more of this feeling, this fire. He could be so good for them. All they had to do was let him.

"Nothing changes…"

Hands sank into his hair, pulling this way and that until a low moan was ripped from his throat. His lips were parted. His hands fell open, palms bared in supplication. He needed them. Needed to serve. It was all he wanted. Everything he was meant for.

"Nothing changes… anyhow…."

=

Chpt 20

.

Notes: The sirens song is from 'Hadestown' : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dxbBlrx69k0

[silvermoongirl10swfics]

Vopak AU series OC Padawans and their lineages part 1/3 - Yoda’s lineage

A picture of Yoda’s lineage as of 7972 CRC (5 BBY). Along with some background information about the new OC Padawans joining OC Padawan Aliyash Shudar in Yoda’s lineage. These new OC Padawans will be appearing in a fic in the series once I have finished writing it.  Characters without (OC) under their name are canon characters, the characters with (OC) are my original Padawan characters.

Mace’s line:

Raarkoo – born in 7953 CRC. Made a Padawan in 7965 CRC aged 12, becomes Depa’s second Padawan. Female Wookiee with brown hair and green eyes. She has a blue lightsaber. Raarkoo loves joining in with the cuddle piles hosted by the men of the 126th Attack Battalion and her older brother-Padawan Caleb. She is adopted by the 126th as their vod’ika, and she loves hugging them to cheer them up when she senses they are sad at how fast she and Caleb are growing up. The men of the 91st and 126th went to Mace and Depa for lessons so they could speak to and understand Raarkoo as they didn’t want to rely on translators, Raarkoo loves them so much for doing this.

Eldann Thul – born 7956. Made a Padawan in 7967 CRC aged 11, he is Caleb’s first Padawan. Male Zabrak with orange skin and blue eyes. He has a green lightsaber. At the start of his Padawanship he was very exicted to meet the men of the 126th Attack Battalion, everyone is excited to meet him and happily tells him stories of his Master as a young Padawan. But while the 126th are excited, Grey is distant, so Eldann thinks Grey doesn’t like him, but he then finds out that Grey has been distant with him because he is busy as he researches what Zabraks can and can’t eat because Grey wants to look after his vod’ika’s first Padawan. Eldann loves spending time with the 91st and 126th, both units fight over who is Eldann’s favourite. He loves them both equally. Eldann and Raarkoo love spending time together as they are similar ages, this friendship gives Ponds and Grey something to stress about because the two Padawans are like Caleb and get themselves caught up in chaotic situations. If Caleb can’t find him, it’s because Styles and Stance have taken him for ‘training’, which is a codeword for Padawan bonding time combined with cuddle pile time. Caleb feels wistful about this because not so long ago he was the one being taken off for ‘training’ with the 126th. Eldann’s Padawanship actually makes Ponds feel a little old, because not so long-ago Caleb was Mace’s only Grandpadawan, now Mace has a great-Grandpadawan.

Obi-Wan’s line:

Nyra Marr – born 7956. Made a Padawan in 7967 CRC aged 11, she is Obi-Wan’s third Padawan. Female Rodian with green skin and starry eyes. Nyra was Initiate Clanmates with Feevo Tana (Plo Koon’s third Padawan), both of them were taken as Padawans on the same day. The first time Nyra met her older sister-Padawan Aliyash, her sister joked that Master Obi-Wan got empty nest syndrome within a day of her being Knighted and took Nyra as his Padawan in what must be the fasted turnaround between Padawans in the Order’s history. Nyra has a green lightsaber. She enjoys story time with the 212th when they tell her many stories of her Master and the men of the Battalion. Alpha-17 is very soft and caring with her as he has not spent much time with Rodians before and doesn’t want to accidentally hurt her, which shocks everyone in the 212th and jokingly complain that Nyra is Alpha’s favourite. She totally is. Due to Aliyash’s friendship with Diamond squad they spent a lot of time in Cody and Obi-Wan’s living quarters, so Cody asked her if she was moving in with a cadet squad of her own, she was very confused, because no? It was just her moving into the Padawan bedroom. Aliyash laughed and then explained to her why Cody was asking that. Anakin loves having another little sister and spoils Nyra like he did a younger Aliyash. Anakin hosts film nights and sleepovers in his quarters and his sister-Padawans always have standing invites, which later includes Aliyash’s Padawan. Obi-Wan personally taught her how to fly, because he was not having Nyra corrupted by chaotic pilot influences like Aliyash. Cody cackled as he told Nyra the story of when Obi-Wan discovered Aliyash’s pilot skills and learned who taught her. Cody introduced himself as her technical advisor, which she thought was funny and kind. She loves training with her Master and Cody. She also loves watching them banter with each other.

Myri Veng – born 7959. Made a Padawan in 7971 CRC aged 12, she is Aliyash’s first Padawan. Female blue twi’lek with green eyes. She has a blue lightsaber, she secretly wanted a purple lightsaber blade like Aliyash, but still thinks it’s great that her lightsaber matches Obi-Wan’s. Myri can be quite hyper, which causes the men of the 212th to have to chase her to get her to work off her excess energy. While on missions Myri does not take kindly to people who mock her Master for talking slowly, Myri will often do something passive-aggressive to teach those people a lesson. In this is she is always supported by Meli, her Master’s best friend and mission partner. Myri loves going on missions and spending time with Meli, he spoils her much to Aliyash’s pretend annoyance, but Aliyash is actually glad her best friend and Padawan get along. The men of the 212th teased Aliyash and Myri that Myri’s addition to the lineage made Cody a grandfather. Myri thought this was hilarious, but she will never call Cody that to his face. She has learnt how to pilot a ship from her Master, much to Obi-Wan’s utter grief and disappointment. Once Myri flew around Vopak with Cody supervising her, Cody soon regretted his part in getting Anakin and Garen to teach Aliyash to fly a ship, because even after Myri stopped flying, Cody felt sick for an entire day. Obi-Wan called it revenge, even if revenge is not the way of the Jedi.

[aviss]

23 for JB?

Hi @beesreadbooks Here we have another one, Meeting in a train ride. It’s set during an indeterminate period of time, vaguely regency/victorian, and it’s definitely not a short prompt. I hope you like it anyway. 

Brienne rushed through the station, one hand clutching the crumpled letter of reference in her hand the other tight around the handle of her suitcase, as the whistle announcing the departure of the train echoed inside the crowded platform. She dodged people moving away from the train, entire families who had come to say goodbye to a loved one and were now in her way as she ran for the train. 

All the good references in the world would be of no help if she missed the train. 

She made it by the skin of her teeth, climbing on board just as a cloud of vapour was released and the machine started chugging along. She took a deep breath, calming her galloping heart, and rested against the wall of the carriage as they departed, leaving King's Landing behind.

She wasn't sad to leave the city, King's Landing had proven to be too big and too noisy and too crowded for Brienne, but she would miss the people. She had enjoyed her time as a governess for Lord and Lady Stark's children, would have stayed with them longer but they were going back to Winterfell, where Brienne wasn't really needed anymore. Still, they had asked her to go with them. Winterfell was too far and too cold, though, and Lord Stark had mentioned some bachelors of his acquaintance he wanted to introduce to Brienne. 

She already knew how that always turned out and would rather spare him the disappointment and herself the humiliation.

"I understand, the north is not for everyone," Cat had said with that soft smile that always made Brienne miss her mother, Sansa hugging her tight enough that Brienne felt her throat closing. She had been lucky to end up with the Starks when she moved to the capital, the spinster daughter of a minor lord who had been driven from her own home by a distant relative as she was grieving her father, friendless and almost penniless, and too ugly to marry. "Don't be a stranger, you'll always be welcome with us."

Cat had been the one who found her a new position and wrote the letter of recommendation. "Lord Lannister served with Ned in the army, he's just resigned his commission to take over the Lannister estate. He's adopted his sister's children after she passed away last month, he's going to need all the help he can get." There wasn't a Lady Lannister to share the responsibilities him, which was why he had eagerly hired Brienne just on Cat's recommendation and requested that she came as soon as possible. "He can be difficult, the Seven knows Ned used to hate him when they were both just privates. He changed, though he's still arrogant as only a Lannister can be." Brienne must have looked doubtful at that. "Don't worry, I know you will be good for them."

"I hope you're right."

"I am," Cat had reassured her. She had also insisted that Brienne took a cabin on the train to Lannisport, not a just a seat. "It's a two-day journey, Brienne, we can afford for you to be comfortable." 

She was now grateful for it, as all the seats were already taken and they looked hard and small. 

Brienne moved down the carriages until she found the one marked in her ticket, and couldn't help the flush of pleasure and embarrassment to see Cat had paid for a first-class cabin for her. 

She could sleep comfortably tonight, no need to worry about fitting her big frame on a normal-sized one. 

The cabin wasn't empty when she opened the door, though. Sitting on the bench were two small children, their golden heads bent together and giggling with the mischief only small children could. They looked up when Brienne entered, their laughter stopping abruptly. A boy and girl, he couldn't be older than six and she was younger, both dressed in what looked like very fine clothes, obviously siblings, with huge green eyes and golden curls and the prettiest faces Brienne had seen. She double-checked that she was in the right place, and looked at the long corridor. All the doors were closed, and there was nobody around. 

"Hello," Brienne said, entering the cabin and letting her suitcase on the floor. They didn't appear to be in distress, so they probably weren't lost, though they were too young to be on their own.

"Hello," the girl said, smiling at her brightly. The boy didn't say anything, just stared at Brienne with narrowed eyes.

Brienne crouched down, she knew she was tall and it was intimidating for children so young. "I'm Brienne, what are your names?"

"I'm Myri, he's Joff," the girl said still with the same smile. 

"Shh, don't," the boy, Joff, said. He grabbed the girl's hand and pulled her closer to him. Brienne smiled at the protective gesture with a sting of the old hurt thinking about her own brother. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," she said, keeping her tone calm and reassuring. "This is my cabin, are you in a cabin like this with your parents?"

Joff shook his head, still with the same mistrustful expression on his face. His sister was much more open. "Our uncle."

"Does he know you're here?" Another shake of Joff's head. "He must be worried about you if he doesn't know where you are."

"He's asleep," Miry said with a giggle. "We're hiding." Brienne had to bite her lips to keep herself from smiling at the pure delight in her voice, there would be a very worried uncle if he woke up without the children around.

"He's always with Tommen or sleeping," Joff said, judgement clear in his high pitched voice. "He's not fun anymore."

Before Brienne could ask who was Tommen and which cabin they were in, a voice called loudly from outside. "Joffrey! Myrcella! Where are you?" The children looked at each other and giggled together. "This is not funny! Joffrey! Myrcella!" 

There was a thread of panic in the voice that had Brienne unfolding from her crouch to open the door. In the corridor and advancing in Brienne's direction was a man who was obviously related to the children. He was stunningly attractive, with the same golden curls and green eyes, though his were dulled with pain and exhaustion, dark bags under them, and sharp features that looked almost gaunt. He had a baby in his arms, Tommen Brienne imagined, probably the reason he looked like he needed two solid days of uninterrupted sleep and a few warm meals. 

"They're here," she said, and his eyes sharpened on her. He crossed the space separating them in fast strides, his bearing martial and focused. He looked her over as he stalked in her direction, not liking what he saw if the furrow in his brow and the thin line of his mouth were any indication. Brienne was undaunted. "This is my cabin, they said they were playing hide and seek?"

He sagged at that, all the menace in his posture replaced by weariness, clearly aware that the children had been playing a trick on him. The baby chose that moment to start fussing, taking his attention from Brienne for a second and the man swallowed loudly, taking a pacifier from somewhere in his person and giving it to the child. Now that he knew there was no danger he appeared even more tired. "I'm sorry they have inconvenienced you," he said and followed her into the cabin. He stood there, hesitating, looking between the children on the seat and the babe in his arms. He looked like he wanted to hug them to his chest and at the same time throttle them for scaring him. He settled for a big sigh. "Come on, we need to go back to our own cabin and let the lady her own."

The children pouted. "You're just going to sleep again," Joff said as if that was the worst sin, the man clenched his jaw in obvious frustration. "I want to play."

"Joff, when we get home--" he began, and Joff pressed his lips together, gearing up for a tantrum.

Brienne wouldn't know what it was that made her speak, but she could see he had been scared for the children and that he was overwhelmed with all three of them, and that if Joff started crying the other ones wouldn't be too far behind. "It's no inconvenience, they can stay with me and play for a while." He opened his mouth, his reticence as obvious as his need for some sleep. "I'm used to children. I'm a governess, I have books and games and they will keep me from getting bored myself. We're not going anywhere, this is a long trip, Mister…?"

"Jaime, my name is Jaime," he said, exhaustion clearly having won the battle. 

"My name is Brienne Tarth." She offered her hand and he took it with a puzzled expression on his face. His hand was warm and calloused, and he held onto Brienne's for longer than what considered appropriate, his thumb moving absently over skin. Brienne flushed deep red and would have snatched her hand if it didn't look like he wasn't aware of his actions.

"Why does the same sound familiar?" he mumbled, taking his hand away and rubbing tiredly at his face. "They can stay for a while?"

"Yes, and you can go back to your cabin or take that cot over there if it would make it easier to be in the same room," Brienne pointed at the empty cot on the other side of the cabin. He looked like he was about to protest some more, though his eyes were almost closing of their own accord, "but you should lie down before you fall."

"It would be inappropriate, Miss Brienne," he protested, blinking rapidly at her to keep his eyes opened. She almost laughed, nobody would think anything untoward had happened between a man that attractive and Brienne the Beauty, even if there weren't three children with them. 

He didn't look like he was joking, though, or like he thought is a ridiculous prospect.

"Your children are with us," Brienne reassured him and he nodded slowly, she turned at an insistent tug on her sleeve to see Myrcella looking at her with wide and eager eyes. "Yes, Myrcella?"

She was rewarded with a toothy grin. "You'll read to me?"

"If your uncle agrees." Jaime had lost the fight with his own exhaustion and was now curled on the cot, Tommen pressed against his chest and arms surrounding the babe protectively. His brow was still furrowed, though his eyes were now closed and his breathing was evening out. "Sit there and let me get a book," she said to the children, lowering her voice. 

"I want to play," Joffrey said, the pout still firmly on his face. She had the feeling he had been very spoiled up till now and was not used to being ignored.

"We'll play after we read the book," Brienne said, not giving him an option and Joffrey nodded, satisfied with that promise. 

She grabbed her favourite one from her suitcase and sat between Joffrey and Myrcella to read, her voice lilting in the beloved phrases and images, eyes lifting to look at the sleeping man in her cot from time to time. Like this, with him sleeping in her cot and the babe in his arms, the children sitting by her side hanging to her every word, they would look to anyone as a family and Brienne felt the usual burn of pure longing for a family of her own. 

One just like this.

Maybe that was what had prompted to offer her help to them, maybe it had been the children's smiles and innocence, or the look on Jaime's face when he had seen them, unharmed, the sheer relief in his eyes. Brienne didn't know, and didn't know why the children had trusted her on sight and why she felt so comfortable with them, and their uncle, but she knew grief and loss, and this family seemed to have gone through their share of it.

The same as the Starks had helped her when she had most needed it, she could help this family until they got to Lannisport.

And if she was very lucky, she would be able to help the Lannister's just as much. 

...

[edensbuttercups]

Golden lights - Part nine

Pairing: Jaskier x reader Summary: Myristica and the reader get to know each other. As the healer ends up staying in the cottage to help, new relationships form and old ones evolve.  Word count: 2k A/N: This chapter was kindly brought to you by the boredom that came from a german lesson. I had so little motivation to follow yet so much motivation to write so... thank you german lesson? Anyway, here we go, the longest chapter I’ve written so far. Hope it’s good, hope you like it, hope you’re good and hope everything is going well. Love you all 💖 

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part Ten Part Eleven

The men were soon ushered out of the house, leaving the two women and the baby alone. Myristica sat next to you, laying her bag on the table and gently opening it. She looked at you sweetly and smiled, before standing and preparing some hot water to let the herbs sit in. “How are you?” She asked, and though her back was still turned, you could feel the pure interest she held in those words. “I’m doing well. She wasn’t an easy birth, but I’m fine. It will take some time to be the good old me again, I guess, but I’m healing fast and I feel great.” “That’s good. I know we’ve just met, and it’s totally fine if you don’t agree, but… would it be alright for me to stay here for some time? I’ll be able to take care of you whenever you need, without you needing to send Geralt to fetch me.” She poured the hot water in a small glass, the water now stained of a light green that could almost be mistaken for blue. “That’s fine by me.” You smiled at her, your eyes meeting before she sat next to you, handing you the sweet-smelling drink.

“Your eyes are beautiful.” You uttered without thinking, noticing the beautiful shades of blue and violet that you were surprised not to have noticed earlier on. She looked down, happily taking your compliment and reaching for your hands, holding them. “You’re going to be a great mother. I feel a beautiful energy coming from you and your husband.” “Energy? And we… we’re not married.” “Your souls are married. You’re connected, you and him.” She inhaled softy, taking a moment before asking you “Do you believe in destiny?” You nodded slowly, looking out to see your lover peaking from the window, ducking when your eyes met. You kept your eyes still, waiting for him to pop back up, and when he did, he smiled shyly at you and waved, before walking away towards Geralt. “You two knew each other before falling in love, right?” “We were childhood friends, I guess. Our paths crossed again around a year ago.” “You were meant to find each other. You both need each other, you both hold a piece of the other inside of you, a part that makes completes you and makes you a better version of yourselves. Keep him close, alright?” You laugh and nodded, standing up to check on Aurora, who had just woken up. You and Myristica talked while you took care of your daughter, before welcoming the men back in just before sunset, preparing a small feast. You placed some fresh bread on the table next to various other delicious treats while Jaskier rocked Aurora to sleep, sweetly singing her a lullaby. “So, Geralt, I was speaking to Myristica and we’ve come to the conclusion that it would be better for her to stay here for the next week or so, so I guess you’ll someone to share the room with for a while” you smiled awkwardly, placing a hand on his and waiting for an answer from him. He instead just glanced first at you, then at the healer, then back at you and finally at Jaskier, that had successfully finished his show with the award of having a sleeping child in the next room. “I could stay in the village. It won’t be a problem” he finally replied, grabbing some bread and biting into it. “Afraid of me? I swear I don’t bite, unless that’s what you’re into” the healer answered, winking. Geralt looked away, knowing full well that if he could’ve he’d be blushing by now, but he chose to ignore her comment and shaking his head, knowing that adding anything would only make for a more awkward situation. “I’m just joking, big man. Stay. We can share the room, it’s not a big deal. And if tomorrow morning you’re still not convinced, one of us will camp out every other night.” She finally said, looking at you and then back at Geralt, nodding.  The evening went by fast, the atmosphere changing from tense to familiar, moving to the garden just after dinner. You all sat around a makeshift fire, Jaskier with his lute in hand, strumming along to made up songs, Myristica dancing, pulling you up and moving you around while Geralt stood still, occasionally looking at you and his new roommate before going back to observing the stars. 

Over the course of the next few weeks you learned more about the healer, and as the two of you talked and shared your stories, you felt the connection between the two of you grow stronger, seeing her more and more as the sister you had always desired but never had. You knew her heart was pure, and even though you knew she had had some dark moments in the past, some painful memories she wouldn’t share, you never dared push her further. She was playful but strong, she was daring yet knew when the time to stop came. You noticed how Geralt looked at her. Whenever he wasn’t busy tending the garden, fetching food or playing with Aurora, he stood close to you and Myristica with the excuse of being nearby in case of need, but you saw the was his gaze lingered on her, the way he listened when she laughed and the way he studied her movements whenever she prepared a mixture. You weren’t sure if she had noticed, yet you saw her doing the same, somehow being a lot less subtle than him. “Myris?” you called her attention, stopping her from her monologue, concentrated on showing you what dried herbs would make a meal more delicious and how to tell which ones belonged together. “Yes?” she didn’t look at you, so you gently placed a hand on her arm and caught her gaze. “I’d like some time alone with Jaskier. We haven’t been alone in quite some time, and I’d love to spend some time at the beach with him. Can you and Geralt stay with Aurora?” “Just the two of us?” she suddenly looked nervous, which you would’ve understood had they not been sharing a room for weeks now. “Is that a problem? Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off him?” you whispered, laughing. She looked at you, a shocked expression lingered for a second before she started laughing loudly. “You have no idea!” she winked at you. “That’s not what worries me. I was wondering about Aurora. You trust us with her?” “You’ve been here for two weeks now. Geralt has been an absolute darling, playing with her, and I can tell that he cares. And you’ve done the same. I trust you.” You smiled, touched when you saw a small tear fall from her eye before she quickly wiped it away. “Thank you. I’ll go tell Geralt while you and Jaskier get ready. There’s some leftovers from last night if you want to take them with you for a small picnic!” “Sounds great.”

“So, we’re alone” Myristica said, holding Aurora close to her chest and rocking her lightly. The Witcher turned to look at her, smiling when he was sure she wouldn’t see him. He didn’t want to ruin the friendship they had slowly started building over some feelings. “You, me and Aurora. We could steal the famous lute and start a band; I’m pretty sure Aurora would be great on the drums.” He joked, picking up a wooden stick and placing it in Aurora’s hand, which in turn started to bang in around. “See? It would be perfect.” Geralt pointed at the spoon moments before it hit his hand. He hissed, pulling away and pouting at the girl, making her laugh. Myristica pulled her up and smiled triumphantly. “That’s a good girl!” “Hmm” Geralt grunted, lifting his eyes to meet hers, a smile on both of their lips frozen in place. “I’ll put Aurora down. Her bedtime’s around now anyway so…” she trailed out the last part, bowing slightly and winking at him in a playful manner. She walked out of the room and returned shortly after, no baby in sight, but a charming smile in its place. “So, we’re alone” she said once more “and this time it’s just the two of us.” She got closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, inching closer to his mouth as they gently swayed to the soft music of the wind running through the fields. He leaned his forehead against hers, breathing in her scent, taking in the moment, before their lips met in a gentle kiss. They bodies intertwined, holding on to each other as if the whole world depended on it.

“I bet you can’t catch me!” You shouted as you ran towards the sea. “Playing this game again?” he teased, chasing after you, throwing his shoes of as he ran. You ran into the sea, the cold water splashing against your back and making you gasp. You waited for Jaskier to be near you before placing your hands around his neck and pulling him into a kiss. “Got you.” He whispered between kisses. “Or maybe I’ve got you.” You smile mischievously before pulling him down with you to meet the cold water. You had grown used to it quickly, but he hadn’t yet, and upon impact you felt his body tense and pull away, trying to escape the sweet embrace of the waves. You swam out and splashed each other before swimming back to the beach and lying next to each other, the waves kissing your legs rhythmically as you laid within the arms of your lover. It had been some time since you had been alone, and you treasured each moment. You breathed in his smell, and he placed a kiss on your head. “Do you remember the first time we snuck out? That time in the forest?” “When I got stuck on a tree? And you had to climb up to save me…” “…only to get stuck too? Exactly.” You laughed “That was the first time I realized the full extent of my love for you. And today is another of those times. I love you. So much.” “I love you too” you smiled and pulled him into a short kiss, sighing when he pulled away. “Sorry, love, but I’ve got a whole speech prepared and I can’t afford to get distracted by a kiss. Today isn’t the first time I’ve realized this, but It’s the first time I’m officially telling you.” “Officially?” “I might’ve whispered it a couple of times while you slept but that’s beside the point. The point is…” He breathed in once more. “I love you. And I’ve said that before. But I also want to spend the rest of my life with you. And you probably had already figured out that much, but I want everyone to know how much you mean to me. And it doesn’t have to be a big thing if you don’t want it to be, I know we’re both lovers of doing the opposite of what is expected of us, but…” he sat up, pulling a small box out of his pocket “I’d love to be called your husband, and I’d love it if you agreed to be called my wife.” He pulled out a ring from the box, a simple silver ring with a small flower welded on the top. He looked at you, his eyes full of expectations, and dreams, and hope, and yours matched his, for the exception of the tears that had started to pour out of them. You smiled and jumped in his arms, hugging him tightly. “I’d love that. I’d love it. I love you.” You kissed him once after every word, both of you crying and laughing and holding on to each other as if the whole world depended on it.

[myriahkamm]

Finally finished the blanket for my friend for Christmas! This thing took an inordinate amount of time (the house-hunting stress, appointments, etc. probably didn't help in that department lol).

Pics or it didn't happen, amiright?

There are a couple spots that seem jarring to me, but the yarn I used is designed this way (with the colors changing as you go), so there's not a lot I can do about that.

Close up of a corner so y'all can see the border better:

All in all, I'm happy with it and hope my friend likes it!

Only like 10 more projects to try to finish before Christmas. 😅 (Okay, that's a slight exaggeration, but it's still like 5, which is a lot between now and then.)

[seri-tonin]

JUST BECAME A DILUC HAVER??????? BEST DAY OF MY LIFE FR

[author-a-holmes]

Happy Blorbo Blursday! Would you tell me about your smartest OC? How do they use their talents? Do they suffer any repercussions because of their smarts?

Hi! Hello <3 Thank you for the questions <3

If we're talking intellectual smarts, then my answer has to be Myris Orinan from my Stolen Stories series. He's a member of the inner circle of the thieves guild of Antillune.

Also, he's a bona fide genius.

Myris is a forest elf, and he's also a wizard, who has trained, and mastered, all four elements. That's rare enough, but because he's capable of using all four elements, he's also able to cast the 5th element, healing magic.

Myris knows over half a dozen languages. Due to some torture in his past that damaged his vocal chords, Myris is non-verbal, but that didn't stop him creating his own language using hand-symbols. He painstakingly taught this language to his husband, Tanar, and many of the other members of the inner circle.

Recently, he's put his talents to use in research. He's an academic at heart, and is never more happy than when he's studying a new topic. His most recent area of study is Alchemy, because it was an alchemical substance that damaged his throat, and he believes if he can master the use of alchemy, he may be able to craft or create a cure.

As for suffering repercussions due to his intelligence, he has very few true friends. While his vast knowledge always had him as a bit of an outcast, his thoughts and ideas too complex for many to follow, Myris has found that since losing his ability to speak verbally and explain his concepts directly to the listener, the people he can count amongst his friends has also dwindled.

He's delighted when my main character Stella is not only interested in his work, but is willing to learn his own personal language to help the two of them communicate more easily.

[daughterofdessalines]

Black People are second-class citizens in America. The poor Black community are treated like share-croppers & prisoners are treated like chattel slaves.

So Respectability Politics within the Black community are a fucking joke.

#freddiegray had a police record #bothemshemjean didn’t.

#sandrabland and #korryngains had an attitude but #niawilson didn’t.

When we debate the validity of our Brothers & Sister’s who have been victimized by Racism - in order to reinforce the “its not about Race” rhetoric ...we breed more of our own persecution.

Because in a Racist America...there are no “good negros”

Recently, the detainees at federal detention center in Brooklyn went without power or heat in the dead of winter. An Illinois prison was exposed when someone acquired footage of inmates shoveling snow in freezing temperatures - without outerwear.

On February 11th 2019. Anthony Myrie was murdered while being held at a correctional facility. His wife says neither the facility or the County morgue know the whereabouts of his body.

We have to speak up on behalf of our incarcerated Brothers & Sisters because what we deem acceptable for them... can potentially happen to us.

#ANTHONYMYRIE

#racismisracism #policemurderisstillmurder

#itsalwaysaboutrace

#solidarityiskey

[berniesrevolution]

IN THESE TIMES

It’s been a long and tumultuous campaign for Julia Salazar, but despite the negative press that hounded her campaign in recent weeks, she emerged victorious on Thursday. In a stunning upset over real estate-backed incumbent Martin Dilan, Salazar—an open democratic socialist—triumphed in the Democratic primary with 59 percent of the vote, and is on her way to becoming Brooklyn's newest state senator.

“This is a victory for all of us who believe that a better world is possible. That we are going to build a New York that works for the many and not just for the few,” Salazar proclaimed to a packed crowd of supporters at her victory party in East Williamsburg.

Starting out as a little-known local effort to represent New York’s 18th District, Salazar’s campaign was catapulted into the limelight in the wake of Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s shocking victory in June over the powerful Democratic incumbent Rep. Joe Crowley. Building on the momentum from Ocasio-Cortez’s victory, Salazar's campaign captured the imagination of progressives across the city—and the country.

Seemingly overnight, Salazar was portrayed in the media as the next big democratic socialist challenger to an entrenched, Democratic machine politician. Given the many similarities between Salazar and Ocasio-Cortez—both Latina, decidedly left-wing, first-time candidates—the mainstream press began to extensively cover Salazar’s campaign. Her supporters have hoped she’ll become another rising star on the Left—and another face of the progressive resurgence sweeping the country. After Thursday’s win, that seems all but assured.

Salazar herself appears humbled by all the attention, telling In These Times, “Over the course of the last year, this campaign has shown me that people are no longer willing to tolerate these men in power betraying us anymore. Not only are they willing to speak out on it but they are willing to take action by replacing them with leaders who truly represent them. And I’m proud to be a part of that.”  

Salazar's win is the latest in a wave of progressive insurgencies that have ousted establishment Democrats across the nation. Along with her victory, six left challengers to incumbent members of New York’s conservative-leaning Independent Democratic Conference (IDC) won on Thursday: Alessandra Biaggi, Rachel May, Jessica Ramos, John Liu, Robert Jackson and Zellnor Myrie. These wins in New York follow those of other left-wing insurgents such as DSA member Rashida Tlaib in Michigan, Ayanna Pressley in Massachusetts, Ilhan Omar in Minnesota and Andrew Gillum in Florida. “The Democratic Party is shifting,” Salazar says. “This wave of challenges has shown that.”

Given the progressive atmosphere in New York and around the country, Salazar, a member of the New York chapter of the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA)—which endorsed her run—ran a spirited campaign aimed at bringing a more equitable distribution of resources to her community. And she took aim at capitalism head-on on. “People in this district deserve better representation than what they have now,” says Salazar. “People are being displaced from their homes. People can't afford to get sick. People deserve to live with dignity.”

Among the many left policies she supports—such as Medicare for All, abolishing ICE and ending mass incarceration—none were more central to Salazar’s campaign than universal rent control. The 18th is one of the most quickly gentrifying districts in the city, spanning Greenpoint, Williamsburg, Bushwick, Cypress Hills and parts of East New York. Over the course of the campaign, gentrification and displacement became some of the most important issues of contention between Salazar and Sen. Dilan. “The issue that affects every inch of my district is housing,” Salazar says. “My opponent supports policies that contribute to displacement and that needs to change.”

(Continue Reading)

[trixxedheart]

P.S I did absolutely NO proof-reading on this, while writing it at times from 1-3 AM so good luck.

The Biological and Physiology Traits of VoidWraiths

Size

Their size and weight vary from one to another but a noticeable pattern is that the ''level'' of the VoidWraith is an important factor. Omegas are commonly take the form of small animals or mythological creatures and are about the size of a common house pet, there is rarely any Humanoid Omegas.

Iotas are somewhat bigger and more "adolescent" versions of Omegas. Humanoid VoidWraiths are more common at this point.

Zetas are considered the adolescent/adult stage of VoidWraiths animalistic ones are usually the size of a fully grown animal such as a Lion or Deer, Humanoids tend to be around 5'6-6'9.

Epsilons is where many of the tales of "large destructive beasts" come into play. Epsilons are 7+ with most ranging from 7'4-10'0

Alphas are the largest with most going from 11 to 23 feet tall.

Of course there has always been outliers who have been bigger or smaller than the average as is with every living creature.

Some VoidWraiths have been known to change their size as well with their magic, but, only for a short time and it appears to be limited on how much power they can contain. Their mass is too different from each individual to give a proper estimate of their average, but if a VoidWraith was trying to make themselves small, it would be harder to contain power they have, too big and the power thins out and makes it harder to use.

Horns

VoidWraiths are polycerate, meaning they can have more than two horns. Two is the most common and eight is the rarest. Their horns seem to be the most "earthly" thing about VoidWraiths. Being made out of keratin and other proteins like other creatures. 90% of the time the horns will be the only thing that lingers after death.

There's a legend that the power of a VoidWraith is stored within the horns, and other VoidWraiths will attack and murder eachother to wear them as status or to gain more power.

Eyes

Most VoidWraiths have silted pupils. Their eyes will glow eternally unless they are dead, or forcibly surpressing it, which is like trying to look two ways at once. Their eyes give them great visibility in the dark and makes colors more vibrant than they actually are. Their eyes are not made of organic matter.

Bones

Bones or lack-there-of VoidWraiths have no proper bones and instead have mostly just hardened cartilage. This may seem pointless at first but this allows them to survive more things a mortal could not. Such as falling from a high place, or getting crushed. Yes it will still be excruciatingly painful but it won't kill them unless under extreme conditions. This form of skeleton can vary between Gaseous and Amorphous VoidWraiths.

Skin

Their skin is akin to ours but made of an unknown matter created by The Void. It has an extreme resilience against tempatures even below -85° Celsius, which makes sense due to their normal environment being rather cold. Those who reside in The Void are usually ice cold to the touch(about -12° Celsius)while those who live outside of The Void are still cold but much warmer(3° Celsius). This state of can temporarily keep them cool even in extremely hot temperatures but slowly deteriorates over time.

Half and Pure Voids

This one is really simple VoidWraiths are created from The Void itself or created from the soul of a dying or dead mortal.

Pure Voids are as states above created from The Void itself. Pure Voids tend to be more anti-social, greedy, and lacking empathy, they also grow hungrier faster. Examples of Pure Voids are; Malice, Lefu, Misanthropy, and Cro.

Though there is many cases such as Lucian and Myri being Pure Void and being the almost complete opposite. Lucian being very caring and loyal to his followers and Myri is the sweetest little baby to grace this world.

Half Voids are VoidWraiths that were created from the soul of a dying being. It is unknown how it occurs and if it depends on the soul's actions in it's mortal life.

Most Half Voids take the appearance of whatever they were in their previous life, If they were a female human they would appear as one though always genderless biologically despite taking on certain traits such as breasts and such, vice-versa.

Half-Void VoidWraiths and Pure-Void VoidWraiths are close trait wise but Half-Voids are more empathetic than Pure-Voids. Examples of Half-Voids are; Odium, Glitch, Flamebit, and Charlotte.

Levels/Types

There are 5 levels/types of VoidWraiths; Omega, Iota, Zeta, Delta, and Alpha.

These levels have been called by many different names over time and space but the VoidWraiths have always used four of them. Delta was a more recent one added to differentiate certain VoidWraiths from others. VoidWraiths can transform from one type to another such as a Iota becoming a Zeta and so on.

Omegas are weak, fragile, and usually scavenge to survive. Usually used as pets because most don't have the capacity to speak or understand much.

Iotas are more child-like, commonly tricking others with their slight grasp on their abilities. Though these ones do actually have the ability to take on a adult mortal if caught off-guard usually used as servants by other VoidWraiths.

Zetas can be considered the "adult" or "teen" state of VoidWraiths depending on who you ask Zetas are much more powerful able to take on most adult mortals on their own and have a firm grasp on their abilities making them quite deadly. Zetas are the most common to see and most legends of VoidWraiths are based off this level.

Epsilons are usually the most powerful a VoidWraith can ever become in their lifetime. Epsilons are rare and are used as guards typically.

Deltas are the "inbetween" state for Epsilons and Alphas, they aren't quite enough to be an Alpha this type is not commonly used within tribes and those of this type are just considered Epsilons.

Alphas are the most powerful kinds, most Alphas are leaders for the biggest factions, they're rare and far-between. And some usually don't even peak in the power they're supposed to have. There's currently 5 confirmed Alphas in The Void(Pre-Enmity Death) and 1 unconfirmed.

Factions

There are currently two main factions; The Void Legion, and The Followers of Cro. Both of these factions are currently at peace with eachother.

The Void Legion

This faction is rumored to be the first one that appeared, The Void Legion is as of the present(Pre-Enmity death), Malice, Odium, Rancor, and Enmity. Malice is considered the "Main Leader" while the others maintain and focus on their own smaller portions. They have a long standing alliance with the Void worshipping faction(s) of the mortal worlds.

The Followers of Cro

The Followers of Cro are a faction centered around religion, worshipping a VoidWraith known as Cro as a god. Not long ago Cro was killed in battle but had one thing to say to their followers, a promise. A promise that Cro would come back as new beings with her power split into several vessels, all the vessels must be brought together into one being to "resurrect" Cro, who would reign again and create a paradise for their followers. This faction is largely neutral unless you're in the way of them getting one of Cro's vessels. In which, uh, good luck.

Tribes

Besides the two major factions, there are several small tribes that live in The Void. Most are somewhat allied with the two major factions, helping them collect food, materials, and more. Generally they're ruled by the highest level in them which is usually Epsilons. Many speak an older dialect of Void Tongue; The language of VoidWraiths, making it harder to communicate with them.

[fandomoniumflurry]

The Little Psychic Girl

John Winchester x Myri Bagley(psychic!OFC)

for @spngenrebingo Square filled: Flannel

4.8k words not really any warnings, maybe some language and Winchesters being Winchesters **Edit by me**

Taggers: @keepcalmimthecupcake @ambermei @janai-mcgarrett @hunterswearingplaid @becs-bunker

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“Well, well, well. If it ain’t John feckin’ Winchester. Ta wot do I owe da pleasure of ‘avin’ ye darken me door?” The thick Irish accent was gruff with time. Even through the man it rumbled from wasn’t even over forty, his tone made him sound well over that. A baseball cap rested on top of his head, hiding his frazzled dark hair and his face was covered in and unkempt beard to match. The look on John’s face showed that he was far from happy to see the drunken man. As a matter of fact, this was the last place he wanted to be. But the old coot had special connections the hunter was in desperate need of.

“Declan.” John muttered as he stepped into the nearly abandoned and almost condemned pawn shop that the man owned and ran. No one wanted to deal with the cheap con man so John never understood how he stayed in business. The place was just as filthy and unorganized as the man behind the counter and smelled as bad too. Besides dusty odds and ends, there wasn’t much in the tiny room but empty whiskey bottles. The man had to have drowned his liver ages ago and his lungs must have been black as charcoal. The drinking and the smoking would still not take him out before his enemies and the monsters got him.

“I need your help with a case.” John finally leaned himself against the counter, cautious not to touch it with his skin. No telling what or who had infected the yellowing countertop.

Declan McGrady gave a lopsided grin from which half his teeth were missing or discolored. “Yer wantin’ ta talk ta the girl, aye, boy-o?” His dirty brown eyes winked beneath fuzzy eyebrows and John tried not to grimace, uttering a quiet ‘yeah’ in response.

How this sack of shit survived day to day, John would never understand. If he didn’t need the guy  from time to time, he would have shot him a long time ago. He was a sleaze bag and humanity would be better off without him and there would be no one to grieve the loss. But as it was, the scum got to live another day as he dropped a key into John’s hand and ushered him toward the back.

John’s brows wrinkled as he looked down at the key then back up at Declan. “You have her here?”

“Aye, her handler needed a sitter so she’s ‘eld up in da back room.” John sneered at the man but the drunk paid no attention, going back to counting his money as if he wasn’t holding a girl in a locked room like some kind of caged animal. The hunter squeezed the key in his hand til he felt it break skin, anything to distract him from wanting to rip this guy a new one. He didn’t say anything else, just moved as fast as he could, his teeth grinding with his burning hatred.

She was right where he said she would be, behind the locked door in the very back of the building. It was cramped and dark, smelling musty and moldy. She was curled up on a paper thin cot with her knees hugged to her chest. She was barely clothed and it looked like she hadn’t been washed or fed for weeks. She cowered slightly when the door opened, rocking and muttering in a language John didn’t understand.

He had never been face to face with her before and if he had known the psychic he had talked to was a prisoner like this, he wouldn’t have let her get this far. He approached her cautiously and even though he could barely make out her features, he could tell she had been crying. John came down to a crouch a few feet from her and he watched as she lifted her eyes with quiet sniffles. His mouth opened to speak but her voice sounded first.

“Nice to see you, John Winchester.” She seemed to relax and if he didn’t know anything better, he could have sworn she smiled at him. He nodded his head, the corner of his dry lips curling up slightly. When he went to open his mouth again, she interrupted with a shake of her head. “It’s not him, John.” The hunter frowned with a heavy sigh, the ounce of hope he had, washing away. “She will be avenged one day. That day, you will be at rest.”It was a kind sentiment, one she offered with a pleasant smile, but it wasn’t enough to comfort the man’s broken soul.

Before he knew it, she was standing, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. He looked up at her from his position on the floor, not much though since she couldn’t be much taller than five feet. She beamed at him and John found himself feeling light enough to smile back. That smile, of course, faded as his eyes roamed down her petite frame. Cuts and bruises littered her skin, some healed and yellowing while others were dark and still bleeding. She quivered under his scrutiny and his hands wrapped softly around her frail wrists.

She cast her eyes down in shame, removing her hands and wrapping her arms around herself. John stood then, towering above her, something that could intimidate a normal man. But not her. When he tucked a finger under her chin, she let him guide her eyes to his. She didn’t see malevolence or dishonestly in his dark orbs. Instead, she found pain and sympathy etched into the soft expression on the face of a lost soul.

She shivered once again, whether from his presence or her weakened state, she couldn't tell. Either way, John removed his jacket and set it aside before stripping himself of his dark blue flannel over shirt. He wrapped it around her and it nearly swallowed her whole but she was instantly warmed, outside and in. She buried her nose in it and squeezed the fabric as she drowned in the scent.

“How do you plan on getting me away from Declan though?” She asked as if she was answering a question he hadn’t even thought to ask. It shouldn’t have surprised him really, she was quite a powerful psychic. Even before he knew what he was thinking, she already seemed to know that he was concocting a plan to break her free of her abusive captors. He didn’t have one yet but she seemed fine with winging it.

“I won’t be able to run.” John didn’t even question what she meant. She knew what lay ahead of them which would prove vital to their escape. Her arms stretch out, her delicate fingers wiggling at him as she grinned. His eyes rolled faintly but he couldn’t help but grin himself. He bent over a bit to hook his arm behind her legs and she let herself relax against him when he brought her to his chest.

She was light as a feather, his jacket seemingly more cumbersome on his shoulders than her. “Go now.” She whispered a shout and he didn’t waste the opportunity. “Left.” There was no reason to look as he sprinted out the door. The skeptical hunter had no problem putting his trust in everything she had to say and if there was danger, she would be sure to point it out in ample time.

“Stop.” She whispered the moment he made it to the back door. On the other side was the alley that separated this building from the chinese restaurant next door. She looked at him with an intense look of dread and neither of them took a breath as they waited. For what, John didn’t know. When her body relaxed, so did his and the moment she nodded, he pushed open the door and stepped into the grungy alleyway.

“Right.” He raised a questioning brow at her and she scowled. There was no reason to doubt her dnow, even though going right led them down the alley toward a dead end. With a little less confidence in his little psychic girl, he moved at a slower pace. Without warning, she slapped him upside the head. It didn’t hurt but he wasn’t any less annoyed at the action. Her eyes narrowed at him and her gaze burned into him. When he realized what happened, his cheeks reddened and he offered her an apologetic, sheepish grin for his thoughts which weren’t exactly nice toward her at the moment.

“Left.” She ordered flatly, her arms tightening around his shoulders. “Oof.” It was a quiet sound but he felt her prepare her body as if for impact. Before he could even question her, turning the corner, he made impact with a firm body. He grunted this time, his eyes lifting to meet with the wall of man that stood in his way. What he found was the confused disgruntled face of his eldest son and John relaxed.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Who’s this? What the hell is going on, dad?” The questioning started as soon as Dean’s mouth opened and the girl’s eyes rolled. John couldn’t help but grin at her reaction to the young man.

“No time.” She answered in a firm whisper before holding out her hand to Dean. His brows raised as he looked at her then at his father but John wasn’t given time to speak or react before her fingers wiggled. “Keys. Left pocket. You parked Baby in a puddle, by the way.” Dean’s jaw dropped and John’s smile grew even wider.

The patriarch nodded and Dean did as he was told before they all set off. The young man couldn’t help but grumble when she was proven right, the tired of the Impala soaking in an oily puddle that was stagnating in an old pothole. “Dean.” She called as John settled her into the backseat. The presence of this girl only gave him more questions but he hopped into the car beside his father anyway.

“Go the long way.” She ordered softly when John revved the engine and he nodded in acknowledgement. “He knows.” She whispered catching John’s gaze in the rearview, Dean all the while looking between the two of them as if they were mad.

“Who knows? What is going on?!” A frail hand lifted over the seat to land with the lightest of touches on Dean’s shoulder. His eyes widened slightly when he turned to look at her. Her dark hues were soft and weary and her smile was kind and warm and Dean couldn’t even argue anymore. His answers would come later and so he silenced his questions.

“She has that effect on people.” John muttered with a chuckle on his lips. None of them spoke the rest of the trip, a drive that took twice as long as it usually would. They would have to pack up everything in their motel room and head out as soon as possible. As they loaded up, she stayed curled up in the backseat, buried in John’s flannel.

Dean’s hand wrapped around his father’s arm, pulling him to a halt before they got to the Impala. “Why are we taking her with us?”

“What else am I supposed to do with her, Dean?” He growled under his breath, pulling his arm from his son’s hold. “I can’t just leave her with those assholes. Look what they’ve done to her.” Dean gaped at him for a moment but like the good soldier he nodded his head and backed down with a defeated ‘yes, sir.’

The two men climbed into the car, this time Dean was behind the wheel as John climbed into the back. He held a first aid kit and a bottle of whiskey with intent to get the injured girl cleaned up. He had only seen a few of her wounds in a brief moment but now as he peeled her arms out of his flannel shirt, he was able to get the full view of what had been done to her. She could see a mixture of rage and pain mirrored in his eyes and when her hand came to rest on his stubbled cheek, he looked up at her with a new level of sympathy. “I’ll be alright.” Her voice didn’t even quiver, completely confident that what she said was true.

As John began the slow and gruesome process of fixing up the girl, Dean glanced in the rearview from time to time to watch how gentle his father was. This was a complete stranger and yet he could tell that this woman had a special effect on the older man. Dean wasn’t sure whether to be worried and angry or amazed and curious. When she looked up and caught his gaze, the smile she gave him made him look away ashamed for watching and felt guilty for his mistrust in her.

It wasn’t long after John finished that she fell into a comfortable sleep, the flannel wrapped around her body and her tiny frame tucked into John’s side. He didn’t dare move or order Dean to stop the car when she seemed so at peace. Her body was cool against his and he was more than willing to share his body heat. He could tell that his son was watching him but he tried to avoid the younger man’s questioning glare. He knew eventually they would have to talk but right now he didn’t have the energy.

John was the next to be lulled off to sleep, the rumble of the Winchester family car helping him find the slumber he so desperately needed. Dean had never seen his father more serene. Hours passed, the young Winchester, unsure of where he was even going, had just driven until he couldn’t anymore. He was almost sorry to have to wake up his dad and so he left him to sleep until after he filled up the tank at a small gas station.

“Where are we?” John muttered as he shifted, feeling the car coming to a stop in front of the convenience store.

Dean’s lips pulled down in a sturgeon as he shrugged. “Somewhere past Pecos? I filled her up with gas so I thought we could grab a bite.” He turned toward the back and rests his arm on the leather to look at his father. His eyes fell on the arm John had draped around the tiny girl. The two men stared at each other for a moment but Dean let it go. “This place claims to have the best peach cobbler west of the Mississippi. Thought you’d want to judge for yourself.”

John offered a faint smirk with a nod and Dean smiled before turning to open the door. This left the older man alone with the still snoozing psychic. Looking down at the woman, his smile grew more genuine. Calloused fingers tucked grimy locks of brown hair behind her ear. He just watched her for a moment, his thoughts wandering to her handlers, as Declan had called them. He thought about what they could have possibly done to her and what they used her for.

Her body showed the signs of her abuse and his fingers trailed lightly over her skin that he was sure used to be soft as heaven. Her bare legs had some time been thrown over his knee and her calves were resting between his legs. She was beautiful and he couldn’t imagine how much more so she was before all this. He wished more than anything that she didn’t have to endure the hell she did in the hands of monstrous men. He wished she didn’t have the scars and he wished he hadn’t been just another man to use her for her abilities.

“You didn’t know, John.” Her voice was soft and groggy from sleep and he jolted slightly at the sudden sound. His hazel hues came back to hers as her face rolled to look up at him with heavy eyes. He frowned at her but didn’t say anything about it. She rolled over and stretched as her mouth opened in a yawn. “Dean’s already got a table.” To the best of her ability, she ran her fingers through her hair to try and make herself look presentable. It was a losing game and after a moment she just tied it up on top of her head in a messy ball.

He looked over her as she tried to appear like a normal human. But her frazzled and bruised state made her appear abused and unhealthy. He lifted his flannel from where it was bunched up between them and shook it out before wrapping it around her. “I’ll go in and grab you something to eat. We’ll eat on the road.”

“John, I need to get out of this car. My body aches and I’m tired of the stuffy smell of leather and man.” He couldn’t help but release the chuckle at her words. Her firmness was more comical than threatening but he understood her and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same way. So he nodded, a hand covering the expanse of her shoulder blades, a large mass but such a soft touch.

“At least let me buy you some clothes and you can take a shower.” She sighed, nearly melting at the thought of a nice hot shower. He laughed again and knew the answer without her speaking a word. “Come on.” He ordered with a smile before turning to open the car door. He helped her climb out and she was surprised that she had the strength to hold herself on her own two feet. He offered her his arm anyway and she gladly accepted the gesture.

The truck stop was thankfully empty, just a couple employees and maybe one or two drivers resting in a booth with coffee and pie. It had been so long since she had seen another human out in the real world, it took everything she had not to run toward a young waitress and hug her desperately. But her grasp on John kept her at his side. The hunter spotted his son right away, the young man already digging into a big slice of pie. She smiled as she watched a smile grow on Dean’s face as he nibbled happily.

John led her to the showers at the back of the building and left her to go find her some clothes. He wasn’t sure of her size but he could judge pretty well that she wouldn’t be sure of her own size either. All he could find was a I heart Texas tee, a pair of red shorts, and red, white and blue flip flops to go with it. He snagged a Texas flag throw blanket for a makeshift towel and headed back to where he left her.

He heard the water already running by the time he got to her door. When he knocked, she invited him in telling him the door was unlocked which he would have to scold her for later. But for now, he tried not to stare at the silhouette of the small woman behind the thin fabric shower curtain. “I got you a little bag of shampoo and body wash and all that shit.” A hand reached out of the shower and pale fingers wiggled and wrapped around the item when he handed it to her.

“Also got you some clothes. Hope you heart Texas.” There was amusement in his voice as he rubbed the back of his neck. “They didn’t have towels but got a blanket and figured that would work.”

Her head popped out next, the curtain hiding her nude form but not the smile on her face. “Thank you, John. I really appreciate it.” Her grin grew when a blush darkened the Winchester’s cheeks. “Now, go. I’ll come find you when I’m done.” She ordered with a wave of her hand.

He nodded and moved to the door but looked back when his hand hit the knob. “I’m locking this damn door. Anyone could have just walked in.” He heard her giggle before he walked out and closed the door behind him.

He wasn’t surprised that her shower took about a half an hour. He knew the feeling of going weeks without a hot shower and refreshing water pressure. It was something she would surely take advantage of. He was still relieved when she finally did reappear. She had tossed her old rags and even though the clothes John picked were a little big on her, she seemed far more comfortable and relaxed.

Her legs went on for miles and John’s eyes couldn’t help but stare at every inch of them. Her shoes slapped against her feet and the cement floor as she walked. Her hair was a wet mass on her head and she still wore John’s flannel shirt. When she caught John’s eye, she smiled sweetly, tucking a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear. He never would have guessed her hair was that red, seeing as it was a dark dirty brown last he saw her. And even though she still had dark bags under her eyes, they weren’t as prominent and he could see her brown eyes better, almost sparkling as she looked at him.

Dean cleared his throat and John was made aware of his staring and his goofy grin. He cleared his own throat and put on his rough exterior once again, glaring at his son who was trying not to laugh. Though she still didn’t quite walk as well on frail legs, she could still move pretty quickly as she bounded over to the two men. She didn’t even hesitate to slide into the booth next to John across from Dean.

It didn’t surprise the younger man when she sat as close as possible and he could feel his dad’s eyes on him, as if the older man could read his thoughts. She looked between the two of them almost bashfully before she curled herself into the flannel shirt and began browsing the menu. As if he could sense her unease, John’s arm moved to rest on the back of the booth and she easily fit in tighter against him.

“This the girl you were waiting for?” A nice waitress with a bright smile and a thick country accent came up to their table with a tablet and a pen in her hands. She gave John a wink, a sign of her approval only further making Dean squirm with his held back laughter. “What can I get ya today, cutie?”

The girl was blushing by now, uncomfortable under all the attention. Instead of speaking, she pointed to the cheeseburger and waffle fries. “And two of your famous peach cobblers.” John added and the waitress nodded before flitting off.

“She was nice.” Dean commented with a crooked smile as he watched her leave. John’s eyes rolled but he couldn’t blame the boy for looking. He had snuck a peak himself once or twice.

When he looked down at the psychic, she was staring down at her hands, fingers playing with the frayed fabric and her face hidden by her hair that was falling from its haphazard binding. His brow furrowed and a hand reached to tuck under her chin. When her face was lifted, he saw the frown lines creasing her face. Before he could question it, she pushed his hand away and turned her head. He cast a glance at Dean as if the young man had the answers but he was just as confused, his shoulder shrugging and his lips curled downward.

His mouth opened to speak but once again she was quick to interrupt. “So where are you gonna be dropping me off after this?” She asked looking between them, her hands joined and resting on the edge of the table. Her features were unreadable now and her eyes didn’t hold that twinkle any longer. Dean and John shared a look and even though John wouldn’t admit it, Dean knew exactly what his dad was thinking, feeling in that moment. So he took the lead to address her.

His elbows came to rest on the table, hands clasping as he leaned forward. “Well, do you have any fam-” She shook her head before he even finished. “Frie-” Another shake of her head. It was clear now that her eyes were growing misty.

She flinched when John’s hand moved from behind her to rest against her back. At the jolt of her body, he quickly removed his hand and put more distance between them. “You don’t know anything about me. You have no responsibility for me and no devotion to me. You have no reason to find me clothes or food or a place to sleep. You don’t even know my name, for God sakes!” A tear trailed down her face as she seemed to snap, passionate and yet hushed so as not to cause a scene.

John stared at her for a moment, seemingly unphased by her outburst. “Myri Bagley. 28. Originally from Barnstable, Massachusetts.” She blinked a few times, gaping at the information he just uttered nonchalantly. “I do my research somethings.” He was almost proud of himself and she caught the twitch in the corner of his mouth. She was almost impressed.

“Did you google me while I was in the shower?” Her arms crossed over her chest now and a single brow lifted as she tilted her head at him. The sight of his father wide eyed and flopping like a fish was just too much for Dean and he finally let out his laughter in loud bursts, a deep belly laugh that was almost painful but unstoppable. Though she wanted to stay firm, the younger man’s laughter was contagious and she found herself joining in and it quickly infected John. So by the time the waitress returned they were all in tears.

“Ain’t this cute.” She drawled with a wide genuine smile. She didn’t want to disturb them so she quickly set the food down but before she walked away, she set a napkin on Dean’s lap with a wink. The smug look on Dean’s face as he watched the waitress sashay away sent Myri and John into a new fit of laughs. But he couldn’t care less, just took the napkin with his new friend’s number and shoved it in his pocket.

When the laughter finally died down, the psychic was curled against John’s side once more and his arm was slung over the back of the seat again but this time his fingers drew patterns on her upper arm. “We’re not gonna leave you high and dry, darlin’.” He assured her, his face bending down to her level and his voice quieted for her eyes only. “You can stay with me--us for as long as you need to get back on your feet.”

She smiled up at him, touched by the sentiment but also saddened by the answer she would have to give. “You have to leave me here, John.” His face furrowed, almost like anger but she knew it was the pain of rejection he suffered by her words. He tried to shrug the emotions away but she could read him so easily. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I really do. But there are some things you need to do on your own. No distractions.”

He seemed confused now, shifting in his seat to bring himself closer and yet turned so he was able to look at her better. “You’ll understand one day.” She smiled ruefully, her tiny hand resting against his cheek. “You and your boys will do amazing things. After you save the world, then you can come and find me. And we’ll talk.” She gave him a wink and a quiet giggle before his next move shocked her.

His lips pressed against hers oh, so gently and yet it still stole her breath away. Her eyes closed as both hands grabbed his face and she deepened the kiss. For a moment, everything was silence and only they existed. But it was fleeting when the waitress had returned with the check, awwing them as Dean watched on. Myri was bashful once again, her cheeks blazing as her eyes dropped along with her hands and she licked her lips as she shifted in her seat.

Under the table, John’s hand moved over her thigh and between her two hands, squeezing as he looked at her from the corner of his eye. She knew this would be the last she ever saw John Winchester, but reveling in every single moment, they were memories she would never forget.