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smallraindrops-blog · 3 months

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Footsteps on Time’s sands.

(A Sleep Family Tale)

Word count:5.4k

Summary: The trials of fatherhood are certainly not for the weak.

Warnings: no beta, swearing, some hurt/comfort.

Notes: Ahh, thank everyone for your patience. I hope y'all enjoy this.

Extra: The sleep children are all the mental age of eight, Morpheus is around seven, the twin five and Phobetor about fourish.

Dark waves rushed toward you, but you ignored the call of the sea as you double checked that you had all the coins you needed.

You casted a wary glare at the nosy seagulls, some of those damn birds were worse than magpies. Opening the satchel, you counted once then one more time.

Satisfied you had enough for everything, you hurried up the cliff toward the agora. Typically it would take half an hour but you had found this shortcut along the beach years ago, filled with rocks that you had to climb and try not to slip on tossed up kelp.

You winced when you almost did just that but caught yourself easily and continued onward.

When you reached the top, you peered over the top, fingers gripping tightly on the edge and you saw the pale stones of the agora, the sun just beginning to light the skies in rosy golds and lavenders.

You pushed yourself up and over the top with a grin, rolling down until you were able to stop enough to stand and brushed the dirt off your arms.

Then you ran down the grassy knolls, wild poppies swaying as you hurried past, your steps scaring off birds into the skies.

The market was nearly empty, with most people still in bed and the fishermen yet to arrive with today’s fresh catches.

Something you were thankful for, you hated large crowds and you didn’t have your parents to create a path for you to trail behind.

There were a few merchants who shot you a curious glance only to dismiss you when they saw how young you were. Which was fine by you. They weren’t the reasons you were here.

Near the center, there was a certain booth, nearly overflowing with scrolls and random odds bits and ends. Last time the old man had a shiny rock from the Black Sea that he claimed would cure anything. And he would not sell it for anything.

You were polite enough not to point out the blue flakes of paint peeling off the rock. Although the pointed glance Pa gave you also made you hold your tongue.

When you arrived, you saw the scrolls, the now mostly gray rock but the old man wasn’t there. You were still smaller than most, so you had to stand on your toes to look over the booth.

”Hey, is anyone there?” You called out.

“Over here, you draft lad.” A voice wheezed and you twisted around, spying the old man sitting near the top of the steps. You ignored the insult, jogging over to him.

“Why are you over here?” You joined him, staying out of reach of his cane. His gray eyes swung to you, his bald head shiny in the morning light, wrinkles softened his harsh scowl.

Tityros the merchant scoffed at you, shifting as he placed one leg out with a pained grunt. “Because I am old, why else?”

You shrugged, rubbing at your chin. You didn’t know what age had to do with Tityros being on the steps.

“Where is your Pa, lad?” Tityros asked, peering over you with a worried frown.

”I came alone.” You informed him. “I am buying him a gift for Cronia.”

You gestured past the stairs to where hung flowers and colorful fabric danced in the breeze. Officially the festival to celebrate Fathers and the gods started today but it will be in the afternoon when the party really began.

”Do you remember last week when Pa and I came by? There was a scroll he kept looking at, something about herbs?” You spoke in a rush, already getting a touch impatient.

You had hoped to be back before the sun rose over the buildings. And before your parents had a chance to build their anger at you for sneaking out. Hopefully the gifts would make them forget about you breaking the rules.

”Aye, I do. But I can’t help you right now.” Tityros grumbled.

You scowled at him. “What? Why not?”

Tityros chuckled bitterly, and pointed at the bottom of the steps. There was a cart with a mule attached, its tail knocking away flies. Inside were crates, some with scrolls and more shiny rocks.

Maybe you should have told Tityros he was being scammed. You doubted rocks could heal people, or otherwise Pa would use them.

“Those are my new wares and I need to bring them up. My worthless son-in-law was supposed to be here to help me but he never showed up.” Tityros said, waving at you to leave. “So unless you are strong enough to carry everything up for me, come later.”

Scowling, you glanced at the cart. Father had been making you carry huge feed bags for training lately and you were willing to bet that the boxes didn’t weigh much more. so you rushed down the stairs, ignoring the astonished glance Tityros gave you.

The shock on the man’s face only grew as he watched you went back and forward, carrying each crate without much effort. You knew you were still smaller than most, skinnier too but you were a little insulted by the surprise on his face.

When you were done, you paused by him and turned to him with a frown. “Do you need the mule too?”

“My gods. No, lad.” Tityros stood, his cane in front of him like he might wack you if you got too close. “Don’t you try to carry me either.”

“The scroll?” You asked hopefully. The old man sighed and hobbled over to his booth. You pulled out your pouch from the satchel, debating if you wanted to haggle or not when he waved at you.

”Put that away.” He ordered. “You already did enough.”

You hesitated, then nodded.

Tityros muttered, tapping his chin as he went through his goods. You tried not to look impatient. You suspected you didn’t succeed.

”Ah. Here ya go.” He handed it over and you glanced over the scroll, biting back a smile when you saw it was the right one.

“Lad.” Tityros waited for your attention. “You wouldn’t happen to be in the market for a wife, are you? I have a young unmarried daughter.”

Your face twisted in disgust.

You had seen plenty of gross lovey dovey stuff at home with your parents. And you knew enough that happy wives -or companions, your parents had told you repeatedly during that horrible talk of bees and birds- would want the lovey dovey stuff, like- urg- kisses. And hugs.

“I’m eight.” You informed him dryly. That made him laugh, his breathing turned wheezy.

”Bah, you were more useful in the last ten minutes than my son-in-law had been in the last ten years. Go on now. Git.” Tityros said, still chuckling.

With Pa’s gifts in your hands, you went to buy your Father a gift. There was a lady who made candied figs, and you tolerated her fussing as she placed several fat ones in a bag that you brought with you.

“Such a sweet little lamb, you are. Most sons don’t buy their fathers anything.” Iris said, sending a pointed glance to her son who was only a few years older. The young man ignored his mother, still counting the coins. Although you saw a smirk when his mom said ‘little’

”Father is easy to buy for.” You said politely, mouth twisting at the smug glare her son gave you.

You didn’t play with the other boys, most who already loomed over you. You didn’t like how they crowded and they were always too loud. That and you knew they disliked you on sight for some reason.

She smile at that and added two more extra figs with a wink. You grinned at her as thanks.

”You are going to leave a trail of broken hearts behind you.” She told you as she gave the bag over. Her son scoffed but you ignored it.

“Thank you.” You told her before taking off.

You glanced toward the skies, wincing a little when you saw it was mostly blue. Which meant that your parents were definitely awake and probably wondering where you were.

Maybe the figs would be enough to sway your father but Pa would likely make you do extra math homework as punishment. And if they were really upset you knew extra laps with the feed bags were in your future.

You grumbled as you began the journey home with your prizes, weaving around the quickly growing crowd. You saw a few of the son’s friends trailing after you, hoping for an new victim but it was easy to lose them among the crowd.

The rolling green hills seemed to reach up into the blue skies, fat white clouds drifted, casting shadows onto the land.

Pausing, you considered the bright red poppies. Maybe flowers would be a good idea. You knelt in the dirt, carefully grabbing a handful, careful to not be greedy with the plant.

Besides Pa could use it, it was medicine after all.

You considered the short cut but with the flowers and gifts, you knew you risked dropping the hard won prizes. So you picked up speed, racing along the beaten path, with a fistful of poppies and the satchel swung over your shoulders.

It was when you were halfway to the house that you heard your name in a booming roar. You silded to a stop, dust kicking up around you.

Then you saw your father farther down, looking like a blue dot with how far he was, his golden hair was like a crown in the sunlight. Your father yelled your name once more, moving quickly.

Father was running. Toward you.

And he looked furious.

You yelped and acted purely on instinct, you turned around and began to run as fast your little legs could carry you.

”LAD! TURN AROUND NOW!” Achilles roared like a lion but you didn’t obey. He said something else but Pa had told you that you weren’t allowed to repeat that word until you were an adult.

You knew you should stop running but your legs kept moving.

Then hands grabbed you around the waist and you screamed as you were lifted up in the air. You winced when you turned around and saw the harsh glare your father gave.

”Lad.” Achilles said through gritted teeth. “Where in the Hades have you been?”

You opened your mouth to speak but Father kept talking.

”Do you know how scared your pa and I were when we woke up and you were gone? Have you lost your mind, lad? I swear you are the reason I am going mad in my old age-“

“I’m sorry.” You muttered. “I wanted to be back before you woke up.”

That only seemed to upset Father even more, his eyes nearly going cross in his rage. “Before we woke up? Have you been doing this regularly?”

”I have a good reason!” You protested.

“Save it.” Achilles said, tucking you under his arm like you were a basket. “I don’t want to hear a single word out of you until we get home, understand?”

You huffed, sulking as you crossed your arms.

“Lad, do you understand?” Achilles repeated, his mouth thinned in a disapproving line.

”You told me not to speak!” You snapped back, glaring up at him.

“That is not-“ Achilles stopped himself, took a sharp inhale through his nose as he closed his eyes. He let out a breath then began the walk home, moving far more quickly.

When Pa saw you both, he rushed over with pure relief on his face. Guilt was a heavy stone in your chest.

”Put him down, Achilles.” Pa ordered and Father obeyed, crossing his arms over his chest once he did so, staring you down. you didn't want to meet either one of their gaze so you stared at your feet.

Pa knelt in front of you, cupping your face between his warm palms, gentle as he made you look up at him. His skin was still a little gray from the stress and the stone became a boulder.

“Lad, where do you go?” Pa asked gently, his dark eyes scanning you for injuries.

“To the markets.” You told him and Pa frowned.

“Why?” Father asked, as he joined you. He looked a little calmer at least.

“Father’s Day.” You said. That seemed to surprise them, sharing a glance.

You shoved the poppies right into their faces until Pa took them, then you reached into the satchel and pulled out the bag of candied figs and the scroll, giving them over to their respective owners.

“These are gifts so I couldn’t tell you about them.” You explained, rocking on your heels.

“Oh lad.” Pa placed the gifts down and pulled you in a tight hug, his beard rubbing against your forehead as he gave you a kiss. Gross. But it was okay just this once you supposed.

“This was very thoughtful of you but you shouldn’t leave without a single word to anyone. Next time, tell us okay?” Pa sighed. “My heart can’t take this.”

”Okay.” you agreed and Achilles ran a hand over his face before he placed a hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

“Thank you, I love these.” Then he sighed. “But you know the rules. I still have to punish you, do you understand why?”

”Because I broke the rules.”

”Because what you did was dangerous.” Achilles corrected gently. “What if something happened? We wouldn’t be able to find you.”

You considered his words then nodded. “M’ sorry.”

”It will be tomorrow however. I need to share all these sweets with someone, my lad.” Achilles ruffled your hair, grinning when you smacked his hand away. “Beside next time, the gift will be letting us sleep in.”

He shared a wry glance with Patroclus. “Happy Father’s Day, my beloved.”

Patroclus laughed, his dark eyes gleaming. “Happy Father’s Day to you too.”

(In the distance future)

Under the dark canopy of faint stars, it was as if the world itself was serene, content with peace and quiet. All there was Hypnos’ soft curls under your chin, his warmth pressed on top of you, legs tangled together.

You sighed, bushing a kiss on his curls, tightening your arms around him as you settled back into the pillows, fully intending to fall back to sleep.

Then a noise. Followed by more.

It wasn’t a loud one but the rush of tiny feet against the stone told you enough. It was likely Phobetor. The older children had taken up floating everywhere. Something that bothered little Photbetor to bits since he was still too young.

You sighed, keeping your eyes closed in hopes that you imagined it.

Hypnos muttered something, his brow furrowed as he rubbed his cheek against your chest. Then his eyes opened and he peered up at you with a frown. His beautiful eyes were hazy, dark with dreams. His long curls spilled over his shoulders like moonlight.

”One of the kids is awake.” You informed him in a whisper, brushing your knuckle against his cheek.

“Your kid is awake, you mean?” Hypnos grumbled, laying back down with a sigh. You pressed a kiss against his curls, rubbing his back.

Then you heard the door crack open. “Father? Dad? Are you awake?”

“No, starlight. We aren’t.” Hypnos called out, rolling off you with a sigh. You immediately missed his body and copied his heavy sigh.

Phobetor rushed over, climbing up the high bed with ease. He was still so small. You kept your eyes closed as your youngest climbed over you and Hypnos. His little feet and sharp elbows digging into you.

Then Phobetor lifted one of your eyelids with tiny fingers, peering into your eye with a frown. gods, he really did look like you, save for his golden irises. It was a little disconcerting.

“Wake up Father. You need to be up to celebrate Father’s Day.” Your son informed you, his twisted mouth spoke of how unimpressed he was.

Hypnos sat up with a wide yawn, and smiled when Phobetor immediately cuddled up to him, wrapping their youngest in a tight hug.

You admired the sight of them, the warmth in your chest impossible soft and tender. There was something about Hypnos holding their children that made you softer than a cloud.

Then Hypnos brushed a stray lock out of Phobetor’s eyes and asked. “Are the rest of your siblings playing?”

Phobetor huffed and crossed his arms. “They left.”

That woke you up.

“What?” You said as you got up, ignoring Hypnos’ worried glance as you leaned closer to Phobetor. “What do you mean, they left?”

“I wanted to go with them, they were going to Uncle Charon’s shop but they told me to stay here.” Phobetor grumbled. “They said I was a baby.”

You inhaled sharply, anger growing deep in your belly as you rolled out the bed to find your clothes. Hypnos got up as well, placing Phobetor down on the bed.

”We can go there first-“ Hypnos said quickly, his eyes wide and fearful but you shook your head.

”Stay here in case they come back. We can’t both leave.” You ordered sharply, causing Hypnos to wince. You didn't mean to snap but you always knew where the children were, like you did your own limbs and the idea that they were just gone was unfathomable.

Fear was a living, breathing thing, claws digging deep into your heart. There were constant battles happening and many warriors didn't care that Hypnos’ children, your children, were far too young to fight even with all the training you gave them.

Or what if something worse happens...

Gods, you would drown every soul in the underworld in the river lethe if someone laid a single finger on any of them.

“Ooh, are they in trouble?” Phobetor asked gleefully. Hypnos shushed him as he picked Photetor back up.

“Stay here, love.” You gentled your tone as you grabbed the spear. You went around the bed to him. You grabbed his chin and gave him a swift kiss. An apology, a goodbye and reassurance all in one.

”I will summon you if they return before you do.” Hypnos told you quietly, trying to keep a brave face for Phobetor.

When you rushed out of the home, you were thankful to see that it seemed to be a quiet day in Elysium. If there were any battles happening, it wasn’t near the home.

That didn’t slow your desperate pace however as you traveled the path to Charon’s shop. Hopefully the boatman would realize that the children shouldn’t be on their own and will keep them there when you show up.

The market was busy as always, with far too many fucking shades around. You pushed through the crowd, not giving a damn about the dirty glances you earned. They could all go to Tartarus as far as you were concerned.

When you saw the shop, with Charon looming over the shades like always but no children, you growled in frustration.

“Lord Charon!” You called out, getting his attention. His glowing eyes rested on you as you approached him.

”Have you seen the kids? Morpheus and the twins left the house.” You said. Your heart dropped when he shook his head. “Can you inform Hypnos if you do see them?”

The god nodded, crossing a finger over his heart. You nodded your thanks, trying to think where to start the search.

“Lad!” Your father’s voice boomed over the crowd and you whirled around. Charon did the same and you heard his groan of relief.

Achilles waved at you from a food shall, grinning widely. Right next to him was Icelos and her eyes grew wide and flashed you her most charming smile. The one that told you she knew exactly how much trouble she was in.

Pa was talking to the cook, Phantasos tucked safely in his arms as Morpheus floated over everyone’s head, chatting.

You rushed over, not bothering to hide your stormy expression. Both boys winced when they saw you coming. Morpheus floated down slowly as you came over, guilt clear in his expression.

And Phantasos gave Pa a hopeful glance but at his head shake, Phantasos joined his siblings.

”Children.” You thundered. “What in the blood and darkness were you thinking?”

Morpheus opened his mouth but you cut him off. ”I don't want to hear it. Do you realize how much trouble are all three in? You broke the rules that your dad and I had very clearly set! You are to never leave the house without one of us.”

”but-“ Icelos tried to say, getting that head-headed expression that Hypnos claimed that she learned from you.

”No buts.” You cut her off. “I don’t want to hear any excuses. You are lucky your grandparents found you and not some stranger.”

They winced, not looking at you and you forced yourself to stop, to cool your anger and you rubbed your forehead, feeling a headache coming on.

Normally you had a grip on your anger, never wanting your children scared of you. But they had never disobeyed like this before.

You knelt down, getting to their eye level. A mix of gold and purple irises stared back at you, all round and heavy like Hypnos. Like that the anger left your body, but you kept your expression stern. “My stars, why did you leave the house without me or your dad?”

”Father’s day.” Morpheus said with a shrug, kicking at the ground. “We came here to buy you and dad a gift.”

“And gifts are supposed to be surprises.” The twins rushed to say, their voice mixing together.

A ghost of a memory, of rolling hills and candied figs danced in your memory. Old man Tityros and that sweet, overworked mother Iris. Their faces swimmed before your eyes.

”Gee, that doesn’t sound familiar at all.” Achilles murmured, a smile tugging at his lips. Patroclus nudged him to be quiet but you saw the same smile played on his face as well.

You scowled at them. Then glanced at your children.

“We will continue this conversation at home.” You warned them as you stood, then you gave your parents a glance. “Thank you for keeping an eye on them.”

Pa chuckled, placing a hand on Phan’s head, ruffling his hair. “It is a gift to see my grandchildren. Especially when it is a surprise.”

You scowled at them.

“I hope our fishing trip is still on?” Achilles added a moment later and you sighed.

“Of course it is. But I need to take them home first. They owe their dad an apology for scaring him. And me.”

Your parents murmured their agreement, handing over a basket worth of kebab. You took it, not able to think of a reason to not accept. The children were quiet, sullen as you and them headed back.

And you kept running the conversation through your head, picking apart everything you said. Hypnos was the one who was good with the kids, not you. He always seemed to know what to do.

Then you thought the icy grip of pure fear in your stomach, of the way Hypnos looked, like his heart stopped.

Gods, what if your parents haven’t found them? Or you never did? They would just be gone and it would destroy Hypnos. It would destroy you.

When you arrived back at the house, Hypnos had pulled each of the children in his arms, checking over them before hugging them tightly.

“I can’t believe you.” Hypnos said, his voice trembling as he collapsed in a chaise, his back against you for support. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Do you know how scared we were?”

“We’re sorry.” The twins said at the same time, grabbing each other’s hand for comfort.

Phan nodded. “Really, we just wanted to surprise you.”

”Well, you certainly did that, my little stars.” Hypnos grumbled but his smile was already returning, his breathing a little easier.

Morpheus crossed his arms, staying quiet. You gave him a silent, pointed look.

Hypnos turned his smile to Morpheus. “Next time, just tell one of us. We would have arranged something.”

”I was keeping an eye on them.” Morpheus scoffed, waving off Hypnos’ concerns.“I had everything handled. Besides, nothing happened. ”

His disrespectful tone toward Hypnos made you narrow your eyes. Your voice wasn’t kind when you spoke, the jagged anger returning. “Morpheus, you are to never use that kind of tone with your dad. Do you understand me?”

Morpheus flinched but he seemed determined to dig the hole deeper. “But I did, father!”

“And if someone tried to battle you, or tried to steal one of you away, then what? We didn’t know where you were. Everything can change in an instant, lad.” You said darkly. “You’re the firstborn, I expect you to act like it.”

Hypnos touched your hand but you didn’t look at him, keep your hard stare on the children. Morpheus gave a jerky nod, his eyes lowered to the ground.

“Your dad and I will be deciding your punishment. Until then, go to your rooms.” You informed them after a moment, giving all three of them an unimpressed glance. They murmured their agreement as they began to leave, then Icelos paused.

“But are we still going to see our grandparents?” Icelos asked, worried clear in her eyes.

“Of course, you are.” You responded, suddenly exhausted. Gods, how did your parents handle this? You felt like you were always making a mistake. “But that will be later.”

Once they were safely tucked away in their rooms, you let your shoulders slumped. Hypnos tugged your hand, encouraging you to join him on the chaise. You obeyed, pulling him into an embrace.

You and him sat in the stillness for a long time.

“I don’t know if we handled that right at all.” You confessed quietly, your mouth against Hypnos’ curls.

Hypnos sighed, pressing in closer. “I don’t know if we did either.”

“I owe my parents an apology.” You muttered after a few seconds passed and that got Hypnos to laugh a little.

“At least they only had one of you, not four to deal with.” Hypnos teased.

“I was enough, believe me.” You informed him, kissing his forehead.

As if it never happened, the twins were laughing, squealing as Achilles chased after them, the fishing poles left behind. He caught them easily, laughing as he plopped down with them.

”Forget the fishes, I’m going to have little godlings for supper!” Achilles growled, acting as if he was going to bite them. The twins squealed loudly, giggling and kicking.

Patroclus and Hypnos were calmer, sitting by the river and chatting about the new goings ons in the House, little Phobetor napping away in his Grandpa’s arms.

You would have been able to enjoy the moment - and a part of you did- but your eyes kept going back to Morpheus. Your oldest son had his back turned to everyone, still quiet and sullen. His small hands plucked more grass out, leaving an ever growing bald spot in the dirt.

Patroclus also gave Morpheus a glance. He had already been told what happened afterwards. “He is going to pull out every blade of grass at this rate.”

“Should one of us go speak to him?” Hypnos whispered, his eyes on you. You considered his question. You had thought giving him space, some breathing room would be best but now you were doubting that.

“I think it should be me.” You replied. “But what should I say?”

Hypnos bit on a thumbnail as he thought it over.

”May I offer something?” Achilles spoke up as he joined the group, bringing your eyes toward him. The twins were back at the poles, checking to see if they caught anything yet.

“Yes. Please.” Hypnos muttered and you nodded along. “Today was something else.”

“Just sit with him.” Achilles smiled, the look in his eyes a little hazy as if lost in a memory. “Sometimes just having company is enough.”

”And when he speaks, listen well.” Patroclus added quietly, smiling down at little Phobetor dozing in his arms.

Mustering up the courage - and patience- you went to your son.

He glanced up in surprise when you joined him but quickly turned his head away, his pale curls hiding his expression.

Morpheus began to aggressively pull out more grass, this time by the fistful. Oddly enough, you felt a moment of dry amusement. It was such a small, petty thing. Something Hypnos would do.

You and him sat together, not speaking as the twins began to chase after Achilles with a stick. Their grandfather was a good sport, making sure to be slow enough for them to chase.

The noises must have finally woken Phobetor and you bit back a smile as you heard him join the chase, demanding for them to wait for him.

Morpheus turned his head toward them, a flash of longing on his face. It made your heart ache.

”You should join them.” You told him gently. Morpheus only shrugged, glancing away and giving up on the grass as he folded his arms over his knees. He very carefully didn’t look at you.

He looked so much like Hypnos that it tugged at you, it was a bittersweet heartbreak to see the love of your life reflected back in another’s face.

“I didn’t mean to.” Morpheus said finally. “I really thought that I was doing a good job.”

”Ah.” You said, considering his words.

”And- I know not to do it next time, I just…” Morpheus paused, clearly struggling with what to say. You just nodded, waiting for your son to speak. You wanted to reach out and hold him.

In a silent offer, you held out an arm, letting Morpheus decide. He didn’t hesitate, moving over to curl against you, his face tucked against your side. You held him tightly, squeezing when you heard sniffles.

”I’m sorry.” Morpheus sobbed a little, rubbing his face against you. “I really didn’t mean to scare anyone.”

“Oh, lad.” You muttered, letting him cry for a few moments before you reached over to tip his face up. His face was flushed, golden eyes shiny with unshed tears. You wiped away the ones on his face.

“You know the reason we got scared is because of how much we love you, right? We don’t want anything bad to happen to you or your siblings.” You told him, cupping his cheek to keep his eyes on you.

”I know. ‘M sorry.” He said again.

Unable to bear it, you hugged him with both arms. Morpheus returned it, his little arms tight around your waist.

“I accept your apology although you still need to give your dad one as well.”

”I will. I promise.” Morpheus said, giving you a devastating, wobbly smile. Gods help you, he looked so much like Hypnos.

“You know, I did the exact same thing once.” You confessed to him with a grin. His eyes went wide.

Before he could ask, Icelos let out a war cry. You and Morpheus turned at the sounds of frustration and you chuckled when you saw why.

Achilles was evading the children easily, parrying with his own stick. He was tossing little out little insults, getting them more riled up.

You looked down at Morpheus, smiling. “Looks like they could use some help.”

Morpheus hesitated, his little wings folded tightly against his curls. “Aren’t I still in trouble?”

”You are still going to have to do your punishment. But that is later. Right now, your grandfather is winning and you know he won’t ever let any of you forget it.”

That seemed to do it, Morpheus’ expression turned determined as he stood. He paused, giving you one last quick hug. “Tell me later?”

”I will.” You promised, returning the hug.

He rushed over with his own war cry, tackling Achilles who saw him coming but acted surprised anyway, going down with a dramatic yell.

You scoffed and returned to Hypnos, who beamed up at you. You took his hand into your, fingers locking together.

”Patroclus, my beloved! Help!” Achilles cried, laughing as the children continued to show him no mercy.

Pa huffed as he stood, taking his sweet time as he went over. “Careful, little ones. You know your grandfather is a delicate flower.”

Hypnos squeezed your hand, and you leaned down to give him a chase kiss. He smiled against your lips.

“Happy Father’s Day.” Hypnos whispered. ”I love you.”

”You too.” You told him. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

“Literally. Considering how they were born.” Hypnos teased, getting an amused eyeroll out of you.

Hypnos rested his head on your shoulder, his expression serene with his close eyes. The way your parents were laughing, as they played with their grandchildren like they still couldn’t believe they existed.

The bright, happy expression of all four of your children were forever encased in your mind’s eye. Your heart was so full, overflowing with gratitude.

You kissed the top of Hypnos’ head and whispered so quietly only you and him knew what said.

Thank you.

#sleep family #wake me from this dreaming

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tinydeskwriter · 2 years

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CINEMA {Chapter I}

A/n: Someone wrote a lovely comment describing y/n and harry as “ ex lovers with unconditional love that never truly go out of style trope” which is now my very favorite way to describe it, unfortunately, my careless self deleted the comment while trying to delete my own reply—because I post it without being finished (tumblr doing me dirty)— so I dedicate this to her/him/they (?), thank you for the amazing comment.

Thank you to everyone that replied to my desperate need of help to choose Y/n ‘s ex-boyfriend…

I honestly hope not to disappoint you guys with this first chapter, I just wanted to give a first glimpse of Harry and Y/n’s ‘friendship’ dynamic. Also, it’s almost Harry’s birthday!!

Cinema | Previous Part 1.Boyfriends

Harry holds the door open with one hand, as he hold a cup carrier with four coffee drinks in the other—Luis is arriving soon, and Rebekah must already be somewhere in the house with Y/n—, he doesn’t know most of the people passing by him, from the group of fifteen+ he recognizes Chrystal, Y/n lawyer—who in more than one occasion back when they’re dating, managed to get out of circulation invasive paparazzi shots of the young couple—and Monica, her publicist since 2012, Rebekah was right behind them, escorting them all to the door.

Rebekah is their age, pixie hair, New York accent, always in flowy blouses and high waist jeans, Y/n’s PA, friend and confidante.

“Good morning H, I am going to take this, thank you.” The woman took her usual order and went back inside, turning back a few steps in, “She’s in the music room.”

“Thank you Bekah.” He said closing the door behind himself and taking the opposite direction from the PA.

The music room was one of Y/n favorite places in her house, a large space with two walls made of glass overlooking the pool, with a view of the city and the park. It’s where she keeps her prized Concert Grand Piano in custom Sycamore wood adorned with a gold leaf mural of London’s skyline around the entire case of the piano, a twenty-first birthday gift by Harry—which her boyfriend at the time saw as competition and got her a 61’ Rolls Royce Silver Cloud II in an auction.

Y/n’s enviable guitar and vinyl collections occupied the two inner walls, the only sitting furniture in the room—other than the piano bench—was the Bellini U-shaped couch from the 70’s in burnt orange velvet and Gucci throw pillows. The piece de resistance was the Brionvega RR126 Y/n inherited from her grandfather.

He found her laying in the couch reading what seemed to be a script.

She looked completely fine for someone who just sold 50% of what she called ‘her first born’, Harry was honestly expected a little bit of nostalgia or melancholia from his little love.

“Got you coffee.” He put the cup in her hand and kissed the top of her head as a greeting before sitting down next to her, his own coffee in hand.

Y/n hadn’t even took her eyes out of the pages.

“How are you feeling?”The question finally made her put the script down on her lap, and sip her coffee before looking at him.

“I feel like I just sold half of my soul to the devil for $500million dollars.” She said deadpanned.

Harry looked at her with furrowed brows.

“So why sell?” He asked slightly confused.

Y/n had started Muse unpretentiously, her goal was simply to offer to the costumers something that lacked in the market: an all-inclusive, vegan, high quality and affordable priced make-up and skincare line. Muse became a beauty empire that included even daily/basic lingerie and loungewear in 69 sizes and 15 nude colors—going by Y/n’s philosophy that basic doesn’t need to be ugly, ‘nude tones’ meant different shades from beige and pretty stuff should fit everyone.

It was her passion project.

“I don’t have the hours in a day for everything I need to do, and I want to have a life, I want to be able to dedicate myself to relationships.” She said honestly. “LVMH is the same parent company that owns half of Fenty Beauty, they are the only ones that agreed to my terms, I get creative control and veto vote, the company philosophy stays the same, I am getting a female CEO of my choice, and Muse gets global distribution, we’re going to be available at Sephora, Harvey Nichols, Boots, Ulta at a even more affordable price.”

Harry nodded. She has handing over some control of her company to have more control of her life. It was almost poetic in a sense.

“And what is this about?”the 'Adore You' crooner points to the script on the youngest's lap, he knew her well enough to know when he need to change the subject.

“Robert Eggers’ new project...but first...”She stops, looking seriously at Harry, “how was it with Olivia?”

Harry and Olivia had agreed to meet that morning to discuss their relationship.

Olivia apparently felt that tempers had run out, and that everything had been left very much up in the air.

Y/n didn't even know what was going on between the two until her former director called Harry the night before while they were getting ready for dinner, and even then she had only managed to get Harry out of the fact that they had had a fight before he came to her aid.

She had a suspicion there was trouble in paradise after Harry spent the third night in a row sharing a bed with her without his girlfriend's interference.

The man sigh, close his eyes and rest his head against the back of the couch.

“Was it that bad?” Y/n watches Harry closely.

Y/n honestly didn't like Olivia, and it wasn't even because the older one was dating Harry—which she personally found unethical and unprofessional, the kind of thing that causes a stain in someone’s career, specially with the whole scandal surrounding it.

The former Angel could write an entire essay about all her reasons to dislike Olivia Wilde, but in short it would resume to Olivia was simply an amalgamation of the kind of person Y/n looked down on in the industry: ambitious personality, fake character, and acting according to convenience.

She would never mistreat the woman or say a word against her in front of Harry, but that didn't mean she approved of their romance.

And Y/n knew Olivia didn't like her either, she could see it in the older woman's catlike eyes, her years in the fashion industry made her perceptive of those kind of things.

Olivia tolerated her for Harry, and had unwillingly offered the role of Violet to her under pressure from Warner Executives who saw Y/n as yet another money grab for the film—like Harry, she had a fanbase and more Instagram followers than the entire cast put together—and which she only accepted at Florence and Harry's request.

“We talked, we agreed that after our fight it's best to take some time off from each other, I have the tour, she still has to sort it out with Jason regarding the kids, we'll keep in touch, but we'll have a more definitive conversation when this leg of the tour is over to know where we stand.” He told her everything in one breath.

“And how do you feel about that?” The woman take a sip of her coffee.

Harry sighs again, running his hands through his hair in an anxious gesture

“I honestly don't know.” He confess. “I care about Olivia…”

“But you don’t love her…”Y/n completed. “That’s tough.” She nodded. “Do you think it’s a matter of time? Like, you can come to love her?”

“Yeah, sure…”He don’t look so sure. “Olivia is cool, she’s so intelligent and eloquent…” Y/n wide her eyes a little, condescending and pretentious fit Olivia better in her opinion. “If I am honest, our relationship hasn’t been a thought in my head for three days, this kinda of says something…”

“This actually screams something.” She said against her coffee, only to get a disapproving look from Harry. “H, you mistook the excitement of the honeymoon phase for something else and you stepped heavy footed into the relationship, I mean you moved her in three months after you guys started to date, we all told you it was too soon…”

“She needed a place to stay, things with Jason were though.” Harry defended his actions.

“And why is that?” The question was rhetorical, followed by a humorless laugh. “H, I love you, but you’re too good for this world.”

Harry looks at her with his brow frown. “Why?”

“My Love, everyone knows she broke up with Jason after you guys blurred the line, Florence told me that Jason and her acted pretty couple-ish the times he took the kids to visit, and that only changed after you started to spend too much time in her trailer.” Y/n told him what her and the girls had debated so many times before in their slumber parties over copious amounts of tequila. “Even Gemma agrees, and she’s like completely against talking about peoples life.”

The man stayed silent for a moment, absorbing what he had heard.

There was only one thing he wanted to know after hearing her thoughts.

“You never said anything against the relationship before.” It wasn’t even a question

“Because I want you happy, and you seemed happy with Olivia, that’s all I care about, it doesn’t matter if I don’t like the woman,” she answers with honesty. “I would never criticize your taste in women, the same way you never criticized my bad choices in men.” She jokes to lighten the mood.

Harry chuckles, eyes closing and dimples showing.

The musician stopped criticizing Y/n’s boyfriends after the second time she got back with Abel after he got together with Selena while they’re on a break—he did wrote her na album as na apology. He kept quiet about Charlie—needy, jealous Charlie—, and bit his tongue with Jack—flirting, handsome Jack, even Harry would have to admit the younger man knew how to be charming—.

He liked Jack less than he liked Abel.

And he had despised Abel because they got together not long after their break up, and Harry was still hung up on her, regretting his decision to end their relationship. But it was too late, Abel swapped her off her foot the minute their break-up was announced, taking her on a first date in Dubai just months later, the beginning of their whirlwind, world wide romance that just ended for good in 2019.

Jack, Harry hated him because he seemed less invested in the relationship than Y/n. He showered her with flowers and gifts and pretty words, but he was always away and it was always Y/n traveling to him. His Little Lovie was a woman in love with love, she always invested herself in the relationships, and was always heartbroken when things didn’t worked out in the end.

They were interrupted by Rebekah holding a lovely flower arrangement in her hands and an apologetic expression on her face. “Y/n…”

The actress turned to where her PA stood in the doorway, the young woman rolled her expressive eyes at the peonies, ranunculus and carnations bouquet.

“Beks…” Y/n sigh. “Just put it in the guest house, will you? Please.” She asked, and the held up her hand, stopping Bekah from leaving the room. “On second thought, it would be sad to let all those beautiful flowers go to waste, see if you can get a van to transport them all to the nearest nursing home.”

The assistant nodded and was already turning to leave the room and start to making calls when this time it was Harry who stopped her.

“Call Jeff, we have a van to transport instruments that you guys can use.”The musician offers.

“Thank you, H.”The young woman said honestly, with a bit of relief showing in her face.

The former couple turned best friends watch her leave the room before going back to their conversation.

“Is he still sending you flowers?” He points to where Bekah disappeared with the flowers.

Y/n just rolls her eyes. “I feel like I can open my own flower shop.” She takes another sip of her coffee. “He’s still blowing my phone.”

“Are you going to talk to him?” Harry takes a sip of his coffee, watching her closely.

“NO!”She says categorically. “I played this back and forth game with Abel, I am not doing it again with Jack.” She sighs. “But I still have to see him at least at the VMA’s, I can’t pull back at the last minute.”

“Shit, I had completely forgot about that.” Sometimes he forgot that she was what the industry called a triple threat: she acts, she dances and she sings, she had already used her voice in three movies.

With her always dating musicians, it was actually an impressive feat that none before Jack had put her vocals on a track—Harry did, but they aren’t dating at the time he recorded her for TPWK.

No one ever thought that ‘Into Your Arms’ would blow up the way it did, it was a romantic—that in some ways reflected Y/n and Jack’s relationship at the time—song, and Tik-Tok and Instagram Reels made it a huge sensation.

“Yeah, we have to perform it on the 11th.” She honestly wished there was a shot of vodka in her coffee. “Let’s talk about nice things now, My Love.” She lifts the nearly forgotten script from her lap pushing it towards him. “I need you to do this with me."

{next part}

Taglist: @slutforcoffein ; @lilsiz ; @pandxthings ;

@ameerakane20 ; @angywritesstuff

#harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x actress!yn #harry styles x model!reader #harry styles x singer!reader

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theloveinc · 2 years

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barbarian!bakugo + buying apples. you’ll notice I didn’t put any work into this making it more … fantasy-like. And that’s bc… I still couldn’t figure out how😞

(warning: misogyny, you are described as a maiden / dress wearing, you have a pa, world building sucks, bakugo … doesn’t talk)

Being the only maiden on one of barbarian!Bakugo’s cross country journeys. I’m not sure yet how or why you’re there, but I’d say he’s traveling and one of his fellow clansmen took you as a prize, or maybe you just hitched a ride on their cart yourself.

But they stop in a small village one day, parking their horses at the edge of a town square of cobblestone and brick, merchant booths surrounding the small shops: of butchers and farmers and fishermen and traders, all rowdy and beaming as they show off their wares.

The men split up (the one with green hair in a leather vest declaring he needs a blacksmith, the lanky one with dark bangs in the direction of new snare wire), though the bulky blonde one (the one in thick furs and pelts who’s never really spoken to you) stays around, picking at the shiny, pink apples of a booth quite close to where the cart you sit on in boredom is parked.

“Five gold for a sack, sir” the man behind the creaky, wooden stand says. He’s stout, thin-haired and wrinkly, all his years in the sun selling fruit showing proudly on his tanned skin. He gestures to the wide array of fruits, each like a piece of candy he wants to show off.

Bakugo (you think his name his, or rather, that’s how he was introduced to you by the redhead with unnaturally sharp teeth, biggest of the group) glances up, frown thin and tense and blood red eyes narrowed. His shoulders shift, the muscles of his exposed stomach rippling as he breathes, the smooth skin of his forehead pinching as if he’s calculating a sale just as he would any other battle or raid.

The sign next to both the men clearly states that apples are two gold a sack. Pears are three, plums are one. “But I’ll give you a deal for four gold,” the man continues.

The blonde ponders, inspecting the apples diligently as if they could be poison, or a waste of a trade. His eyes narrow slightly, lips pursing, and you realize, in his reaching for coin, the intuition he so usually takes pride in (saving the men once from a brutal hound attack, and you, too, another time when a swamp dweller caught the hem of your trousers) is not there… and that they don’t use the same alphabet. Maybe he can’t even… read.

“For two gold,” you call.

Both parties look to you. One set of eyes in an suspicious glare, the other in a tart and angry bitterness. The merchant’s leathery face sinks into a melted frown, his fists clenching as your own hand shields your eyes from the bright sun and hides a protective squint.

“Didn’t your pa ever tell you not to meddle in grown men’s business?” he half-shouts back, the laugh in his voice now tangled with a snarl, downright and plain rude.

“The sign says two,” swinging off your seat, you smooth down your simple frock as you point to the wooden board stained with charcoal that’s hung up next to him. “One sack of apples for two gold.”

Bakugo’s eyebrows raise for the briefest of seconds, then fall in another glare as his hand drops from where he holds his coin (in small, canvas bag tied to his belt with thin, leather cord. It sags against his hip, his pants dipping and uncovering a v-line that descends further into a region you’ve only seen once; at a bathing river in the hills, the bare curve and marks of your own hips exposed—)

“Don’t know where you picked up letters, missy,” the merchant scoffs. “Reading is men’s work.”

You approach the barbarian’s side, his head (messy with hair) tilted towards you as he watches on in silence. From the pocket of your dress, you take out two gold of your own and flick them on the table before you.

“My pa taught me how.”

Then you take Bakugo’s hand (thick and rough and hard to hold) in one of yours and march right back to the horses and cart. Bag of sweet, pink apples in the other.

#bakugou x reader #Bakugo #I am so lazy #I just wanted to post this lmfao sorry if it’s sucks #will fix any mistakes soon!#I’ve just been caught up in this weird fantasy of like…. being captured by some barbarians and surprising them with your sophistication #and saving them from some weird sh*t #I think it would surprise Barbarry Bakugo if u like . could read and he couldn’t #but this is like. a bad representation of that LOL #idk why I’m having so much trouble with the fantasy set up #gusss well just have to deal #dunno .. I have no concept of anything #anyway this was kind of a shout out to my own dad #whos an alc*holic n*mbskull hillbilly b*astard dropout but wanted me to be educated and cultured more than anything growing up #so weird #i must be so tired to be telling u all this… or it’s the lexapro #either way ENJOY SORRY #I miss and love u all #caitie post #gen

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the-gay-prometheus · 2 months

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If giving financial help isn't your thing but you're in the market for some things like pelts, bone art and jewelry, or r/abbit foot and tail keychains, I have a bunch of things that I am trying to sell as well.

For those who missed it, hi, I'm Jay/Victor/Viktor, I'm a disabled neurodivergent transmasc individual who is currently in job search hell. I've sent out probably well over a hundred applications at this point and have only had three interviews, one for a job that I can't physically do, one for a position that got filled before I could get to the second interview, and another that still hasn't gotten back to me yet.

I have a cat that is my entire life whom I cannot live without, and unfortunately she recently became very ill to the point of costing me and my family well over $3000. While she was sick, she also managed to pick up a nasty coccidia infection that has been resistant to the medication she was initially given. In order to get a different medication for her, her vet needs to do another fecal float test, which itself costs $75, and the medication itself will likely cost around $35. Once I make these payments, I will have $40 to my name at the most, potentially even less depending on tax. At this point, my parents are no longer willing to help me financially and believe that it's my fault that I still do not have a job. This is a very urgent situation, but I understand folks don't like just giving money away (frankly I don't like taking money given away either).

If there's anything here that is of interest to you, please reach out via DM here, or you can DM me on discord (my username is @thegayprometheus).

Note - I am only able to ship within the USA, and species names are censored so this post doesn't show up in the wrong tags

Wallhanger Pelts

Golden Island F/ox Pelt - 160 + shipping

Bought from OrangeLionTaxidermy, huge pelt with fantastic quality fur

Blue F/ox Pelt - 110 + shipping

Bought at the PA Farm Show, excellent super soft and dense fur

R/abbit Bone Art & Jewelry + Preserved Foot & Tail Keychains

*All r/abbit pieces were made by me and come from r/abbits that were raised and processed by me. These were culls from a conservation breeding project for a rare heritage breed, and all parts of the animals were used.

"Fractured" R/abbit Jaw Necklace - 60 + shipping

Broken r/abbit jaw painted with black acrylic and fixed with resin, fractures highlighted with gold acrylic. (Left in image)

"Whole" R/abbit Jaw Necklace - 30 + shipping

Simple unpainted r/abbit jaw with teeth painted in shiny gold acrylic (Right in image)

"Divine Architecture" R/abbit Vertebrae Necklace Set - 50 + shipping (includes both pieces)

Gold acrylic, silver acrylic, gold leaf, and silver leaf, rabbit atlas and axis bones

"The Forest - Night" R/abbit Jaw Keychain (can be made into custom size necklace upon request) - 40 + shipping

Black acrylic, silver acrylic, silver leaf (Left in image)

"The Forest - Day" R/abbit Jaw Keychain (can be made into custom size necklace upon request) - 40 + shipping

Black acrylic, green acrylic, gold acrylic, gold leaf (Right in image)

R/abbit Skull Lantern - 70 + shipping

R/abbit skull accented with gold acrylic (Skull not permanently adhered to lantern, nor are the stones, will all be wrapped separately so you can then set it up however you want) Lights are not included but some LED fairy lights would look really cool in this piece.

Note: I will do my best to package it extremely carefully and securely, but I cannot guarantee the glass will not be damaged at all during shipping. If you don't want to risk it but you want the skull, that can be negotiated.

R/abbit Foot Keychain (back foot) - 9 + shipping

Multiple available

R/abbit Foot Keychain (front foot) - 6 + shipping

Multiple available

R/abbit Tail Keychain - 7 + shipping

Multiple available

#oddities #curiosities #vulture culture #pelts #bones #bone art

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ryoko1232 · 7 months

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its getting interactions so... More dnd with the sides?

Ro:"Oh Patton, you're gonna like this! They are selling a dog pack that can fit 1k dogs"

Pa:"Aww"

Ro:"And it already has 200 pups inside"

Pa:"AWWWW, how much is it?"

Ro:"uhhh, 150 gold"

Lo:"that is exactly how much- Patton! We need to save our gold- Pat-"

Pat:"I take it!"

Lo"Wait no!"

Ro:" Done, you know have...oh that was the last of your gold.."

Lo: *disapproval noises*

Vi:"We could still have enough to fight the boss if you didn't get your star sword"

Lo:"WE NEED WEAPONS TO FIGHT THE BOSS, WE DON'T NEED 200 PUPPIES"

Pa:"HEYYY, YES WE DO!"

#dnd #virgil sanders #logan sanders #sander sides #patton sanders #roman sanders #200 pups does sound good #bffr

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incarnateirony · 1 year

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Interesting. Jensen and Misha both scheduling further ahead on CE, Jared only scheduled on three more. Misha's prices on things going up. CE answering vaguely that jared hasnt been able to commit further and that they have "other secret weapons". Cons with only Jensen and MIsha so far selling gold package tickets.

Fascinating. Maybe they're tired of pa ying out Jared's rate when he literally isn't making money and have realized no amount of propping him up is working. When several J2 greets sell cheaper than Jensen solos, it's not a fluke, it's a pattern.

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tomorrowusa · 5 months

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Postcards from Ukraine to members of Congress – a suggestion 💡 🇺🇦 🇺🇸 📮

It's clear that House Speaker Mike Johnson is acting on orders from Donald Trump to prevent a Senate bill which includes aid to Ukraine from getting a vote in the House of Representatives. Johnson is a craven careerist who would sell his mother into slavery to please Trump.

The Senate bill ("Emergency National Security Supplemental Appropriations Act") could still be taken up – and would almost certainly pass – if just a handful of Republicans from moderate districts decided to support a parliamentary procedure called a "discharge petition" in order to bypass Speaker Johnson.

There are 17 Republicans in the House of Representatives in 2022 who won in congressional districts where Joe Biden had beaten Donald Trump in 2020. These Republicans from moderate districts would be a good grouping to entreat to support the discharge petition. A number of them have already expressed support for Ukraine in the past. It's a matter of getting them to put conscience ahead of their fear of Trump.

Below is a list of addresses of the district offices of those 17 Republican Representatives. If you are in Ukraine, buy a postcard and clearly write a short message which tells how you love freedom and how Putin's illegal war has affected you. It can be in English or Ukrainian. Use a Ukrainian stamp for postage and mail it as soon as possible.

Individuals need pick just 1 of the 17. But schools, businesses, clubs, and military units with at least 17 people can arrange to send one to each of the listed Representatives.

Be polite but urgent. Perhaps remind them that Ronald Reagan understood the dangers of Russian imperialism.

Rep. David Schweikert 14500 N. Northsight Blvd., Suite 221 Scottsdale, AZ 85260 USA

Rep. Juan Ciscomani 1636 N. Swan Road, Suite 200 Tucson, AZ 85712 USA

Rep. John Duarte 90 S. First Street Turlock, CA 95380 USA

Rep. David Valadeo 2700 M Street, Suite 250B Bakersfield, CA 93301 USA

Rep. Mike Garcia 27200 Tourney Rd., Suite 300 Santa Clarita, CA 91355 USA

Rep. Young Kim 180 N. Riverview Dr., Suite 150 Anaheim, CA 92808 USA

Rep. Michelle Steel 10805 Holder St., Suite 225 Cypress, CA 90630 USA

Rep. Don Bacon 13906 Gold Circle, Suite 101 Omaha, NE 68144 USA

Rep. Tom Kean Hopatcong Borough Municipal Building 111 River Styx Road Hopatcong, NJ 07843 USA

Rep. Nick Lalota 515 Hauppauge Road, Suite 3B Hauppauge, NY 11788 USA

Rep. Anthony D'Esposito 229 7th Street, Suite 102 Garden City, NY 11530 USA

Rep. Mike Lawler 60 McAlpin Ave Mahopac, NY 10541 USA

Rep. Marc Molinaro 49 Court Street, Suite 210 Binghamton, NY 13901 USA

Rep. Brandon Williams 421 Broad Street, Suite 7 Utica, NY 13501 USA

Rep. Lori Chavez-DeRemer 621 High Street Oregon City, OR 97045 USA

Rep. Brian Fitzpatrick 1717 Langhorne Newtown Rd., Suite 225 Langhorne, PA 19047 USA

Rep. Jen Kiggans 283 Constitution Drive Virginia Beach, VA 23462 USA

FAQ

Why physical mail instead of email or phone calls? There's an enormous chance that your email would end up in a spam folder. Also, the Congressional email system tends to prioritize email originating from the districts of each individual House member. Phone calls from outside the US are likely to be filtered out. Unlike email or phone calls, a physical piece of mail has a real world presence. The recipient has to do something with it. You can't simply press DELETE to get rid of it.

Why postcards and not letters? For security reasons. It takes less time and effort to inspect a postcard than a letter or parcel. Your mail will arrive sooner.

Why use postage stamps instead of a postage meter? You want the recipient to know that you are REALLY from Ukraine. Using official Ukrainian stamps is a simple way to do that. When people see Україна or Ukraina on the stamp then they will know it originated in Free Ukraine. FYI: the letter Ї does not exist in Russian, recipients should look for this on the stamp. Also, your stamp automatically turns the postcard into a collector's item. It is more likely to be saved and to serve as a continuing reminder of your urgent request.

Why send the postcards to district offices instead of offices in Washington? Postcards from Ukraine will get more attention locally by local staff; if a sizable number arrive, it might even get mentioned in local media. In Washington, people tend to be more blasé about such things.

What is the proper form of address for House members? Rep. or Representative before the surname – no distinction based on gender.

FOR REFERENCE: Here are electoral stats for the districts. The column marked R margin indicates the size of each Representative's winning margin in 2022. Rep. Duarte, for example, beat his Democratic opponent by a very narrow 0.4%

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doomedhowell · 3 months

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Hi hi 👋🏻 is anyone selling a gold or silver ticket for the reading pa date??? I am totally interested in buying and would love to go with a friend that’s also going to that show and just really really really want to meet phil (and dan, yes even though i met him at wad)

please hit me up here or twitter (phanshows)

#dan howell #phil lester #terrible influence tour #dnptit

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blowflyfag · 11 months

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WRESTLING ALL STARS: Heroes and Villains : JUNE 1996

ECW CONQUERS NEW YORK

By George Napolitano

[Sabu clobbers Cactus Jack in some EXTREME action.]

Like an off Broadway play that perfects its craft on the road before making it to the big city. ECW has been playing to full houses for nearly three years approximately every three weeks in Philadelphia, PA at the ECW Arena. Finally, after all this time “on the road,” ECW decided to try its luck in the Big Apple. And, from the response that they received in their New York debut, it’s obvious that ECW is ready to take an extreme bite out of the Big Apple!

[Sandman before he lost his Woman and his gold]

The Lost Battalion Hall in Queens, NY, was the sight of the first ECW card in the New York area. Prior To the card ECW action had been playing on MSG cable every Sunday night at 1:00 a.m. for nearly a year. ECW has its own unique brand of mayhem and violence, unlike anything that can be seen on WWF or WCW broadcasts. In NYC, it has acquired a huge late-night cult following. Although Tod Gordon and the rest of the ECW hierarchy knew that they had a following in the New York area, never in their wildest dreams did they think that their first card would produce a complete sell out with hundreds of die-hard fans turned away at the door.

[Sabu sends Cactus through a table.]

At 7:00 p.m., with still an hour to go before the show, there were 1,242 fans inside the arena with an estimated 1,000 more on Queens Boulevard unable to get inside. TO try and pacify those who were unable to secure admission to the event, the ECW announced the date of their next card and then began to sell tickets to this one. Many fans who were unable to get into the arena for the first ECW card quickly purchased seats for the upcoming show to avoid being shut out again! And, because of this huge advance ticket sale and the response of those who were fortunate to gain admission to the first ECW card, the second ECW card in Queens is sure to be another sellout.

[ECW crowds are the rowdiest wrestling crowds in the world.

Raven is dazed and confused after smashing a table with his head.]

I have been to numerous local events in my many years covering the wrestling scene, but not since the heydays of the eighties have I seen such a rabid group of fans in a local arena.

Walking through the crowd, you could feel the electricity. The excitement was such that it made you feel that you were about came to ringside. After aggravating the crowd with his obnoxious behavior, Richards walked to the ringside and said, “Hey Jojo, there’s Missy Hyatt!” Richards played up to Missy, and before leaving the ringside area Missy gave him a long, deep kiss. When their lips parted, Missy told Stevie to take that to Raven. After Richards finally returned to the dressing room, Joey Styles introduced Paul E. Dangerously. Dangerously received a long and loud ovation from the faithful and then welcomed every one in his own inimitable style. Dangerously had quite a few things to say to the people and peppered his comments with profanties directed mainly towards WCW and the WWF. In closing Dangerously said, “There’s going to be so much electricity in here that they will feel its effects all the way in Titan Towers in Stanford, Connecticut!”

[Francine tends to an injured Pit Bull.

Paul E. Dangerously gets the Queens NY crowd worked up.

Raven is never too injured to give the Sandman a kick to the kisser!]

Finally, the time had come for the big card and in the first match Taz took on Koji Nakagawa. The “Master of the Suplex '' wasted no time in easily subduing his opponent, and when it was over, Taz, along with his manager Bill Alphonso, challenged everyone in the arena.

[Rock tables NuJack and the Gangstas are history!

Nujack pounds Rocco Rock bloody.]

Next came “The Shah” Hack Myers and his opponent was J.T. Smith Listening to the wat that the fans were cheering on the Shah, it was obvious that they had been following ECW action for a long time. After eight minutes of action, Meyers pinned Smith to win the match.

[Francine attacks Paul E. Dangerously at ringside.

Pit Bull #1 brains Eliminator #1 with a board! The Sandman is on the receiving end of several Raven rights. There were 1,242 fans inside the arena with an estimated 1,000 more on Queens Boulevard unable to get inside.]

This was followed by a match in which Too Cold Scorpio put both the tag team title and the TV title on the line. His opponent was Long Island native, Mikey Whipwreck.

[Bubba Dudley doesn’t stutter when he’s kicking butt! ECW, ECW, ECW!]

This match was sensational. Scorpio and Whipwreck put on a display of wrestling prowess that has been seen in a local arena in years. The moves exhibited by both men were just incredible. Scorpio's numerous cartwheels off the top rope were simply breathtaking with each executed with precision. However , if Scorpio had merely tried to pin Whipwreck instead of continually showing off and lifting him off the mat at the count of two so that he could do yet another cartwheel, he would have easily won the match. But Scorpio’s showboating proved to be his undoing. Cactus Jack ran in and pulled Whipwreck out of the way as Scorpio was about to land on him once again. With Scorpio rolling on the mat writhing in pain from the missed cartwheel, Cactus jack placed Whipwreck on top of the Scorpio. The referee then counted and, as he pounded the canvas a third time, Mikey Whipwreck was declared the winner and new TV and Tag Team champion!

[Buh-Buh Dudley dies his dance,]

A tag team match followed, involving the Eliminators (with their manager Jason) versus the Pit Bulls (with their valet Francine). This was another fast and furious encounter. Both teams battled continually both inside and outside of the ring with even Jason and Francine getting into it numerous times. The end came when Saturn pinned Pit Bull 2 with help from his partner in crime. After scoring the pin fall, the Eliminators, along with Jason, suplexed Francine as her large, mostly male, rooting section gasped in horror!

[Taz and Bill Alphonzo: A match made in Hell!]

The fifth match was an elimination match with the winner getting the opportunity to wrestle for the ECW title against the Sandman. The participants were Raven and Tommy Dreamer. While Raven had Stevie Richards, the Blue Meanie and Beullah in his corner, Tommy Dreamer had to wage the war alone and this led to his downfall. This battle was one of the wildest matches ever waged in New York! The combatants fought all around the arena, but when it was over Raven emerged victorious.

In the sixth match Buster Mastino easily defeated El Puertoricano despite several sensational moves by the young Puerto Richan.

[Taz and Bill Alphonzo: Can these two get any more irritating?]

The sensational Bubba Ray Dudeley was next and Buh, Buh, Buh, Bubba’s opponent was the Blue Meanie.

[Stevie Richards, Beulah McGillicuddy and The Blue Meanie seem to be having a marvelous time.]

Accompanying Bubba were the rest of the Dudley clan, while the Meanie had Stevie Richards at ringside in case he needed a helping hand. After the Meanie slapped Bubba to start the match. It went downhill for the Meanie. Bubba Ray tore the Meanie apart. Then after disposing of the Meanie, the Dudleys set their sights on Richards, and he was lucky to leave the arena alive as the Dudleys tore into him.

[Woman gives Sandman a quaff of lager!]

The ECW title match was next with the Sandman taking on Raven. As soon as the Sandman made his way to the ring accompanied by the lovely Woman, everyone in the arena rose to their feet. After seeing the Sandman successfully defend his title on TV time after time against a variety of opponents, the sellout crowd couldn’t wait to see their hero in person and they showed him and his lady their appreciation by giving them a long and loud standing ovation. You could tell by the smiles on their faces and the cockiness in their strut that the Sandman and Woman loved the ovation. When Raven appeared in view, his reception was met with a long and loud chorus of boos. The battle between these two was intense. At times it looked like Raven would win the title, but some how, some way, the Sandman always managed to survive. At the 15-minute mark Tommy Dreamer ran to the ring and joined the battle. Dreamer was slugging Raven who got the worst of it. When Dreamer finally left the ringside area, Sandman pinned Raven to win the bout.

[Cactus grabs a handful of Sabu’s hair. (Notice that lately Cactus has been wrestling with his teeth in.)

Too Cold Scorpio goes for an altitude record.]

This was followed by a tag team match involving Public Enemy and the Gangstas. The battle that ensued was intense. Chairs, tables, the bell and anything else they could grab was used during the match. To accurately describe the intensity exhibited by each time would be impossible as the match was brutal. In the end, Mustafa of the Gangstas pulled off the upset of the evening when he pinned Rocco Rock to win the match.

[Public Enemy says, “You should see the LOSERS!”

Cactus Jack and Mikey Whipwreck are championship tag team partners, much to Mikey’s dismay.]

The final match of the night pitted the feared Sabu against the wild and crazy Cactus Jack, and the referee for this battle was 911. Like all of the matches that preceded it, this was yet another classic. Sabu did all of his trademarked moves, while Cactus Jack was as wild as could be. Although the match ended in a double count out, no one was disappointed as both men used every move in their repertoire.

The first NECW New York card started at 8:00 p.m. and it continued non-stop without an intermission until 11:45. In this time, everyone was treated to a night of action, excitement and mayhem unlike any they had ever seen on the local scene. With the enthusiastic response of the first ECW card in the New York area, it is only a matter of time before ECW becomes a major force on the NY scene. Although right now the ECW stars may lack the fame of the WWF or WCW, with their moves, style, and never-say-die attitude, it's only a matter of time before the ECW competitors become as well known as their counterparts. When they do, ECW will become a major force on the wrestling scene. From their humble beginnings in Philadelphia, PA, in front of a small, hardcore enthusiastic audience the ECW has grown to the point where it is now ready to compete with the big boys. From the reception in the Big Apple, it’s obvious that ECW is ready to step into the limelight.

[Missy Hyatt and Stevie Richards hit it off at ringside. Is she using Stevie to get to Raven?

Raven locks Sandman with the caning stick.

Tommy Dreamer is a bloody mess as he reacts to a low blow.]

#ECW #extreme championship wrestling #Magazine scan #magazine transctipt

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miragethecat · 7 months

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A NEW FORM????? HELLO!!

we’re only on EPISODE 8⁉️⁉️

i do have to admit, i like the gold. The fact that his transformation device or at least part of is a giant becomes carabiner, actually the fact that all three of them are carabiners is crazy. tsubaraya is missing out by not just selling those for keys

#tokusatsu #ultraman #kaiju #ultraman fuma #ultraman taiga #ultraman titas

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sleepdeprivedsimp234 · 1 year

Text

Louisiana HC’s because I friggin’ love him 🥺🥺💛💚💜 Also @simpyfrog , cuz I think they might like this. Maybe.

-he has a few different nicknames, but his main one is Loui. His others are: Lou, Ana, The Pelican State, and Magnolia (his state flower).

-his "human" age is 22 and his state age (or how long he has been a state) is 211 years

-his height is 5’7

-Loui has an unnatural love for animals and knows a lot about them

-Texas decided to teach him how to ride horses and it went really well! Sorta. Loui just was kinda cautious about the horses because they are all a lot bigger than him and stronger.

-so as we know, Loui doesn’t, or at least, barely sleeps, cuz he’s usually "haunting’ the house at night and is active during the day. So sometimes his body will just shut down at random parts of the day and he’ll fall asleep on the spot (no matter what he’s doing). Florida now has the habit of putting an arm either in front of Loui, or behind him in case he falls.

-he has autism, high-functioning depression and anxiety, and PTSD

-one time Texas decided to give Loui hennessy. Yea. Um. Never again. The sounds coming from him could only be described as a demon getting strangled 😭 He hated it. It bit him.

-the LAST, and I mean, the LAST thing any of the states want is for somebody to piss off a hungover Loui. The last time someone did that, let’s just say Alabama got LAUNCHED across the living room.

-Loui love’s complimenting his friends, but he can’t handle compliments directed at him. If somebody compliments him, he will 100% malfunction and be blushing for a long time, and it’s absolutely adorable.

-absolutely adores thunderstorms. He loves the lightning and the rain, but sometimes the thunder will give him a little spook.

-he enjoys making weird concoctions of random drinks and always manages to make the most interesting drinks that just leave the others either concerned or impressed

-the resident "Shots Til’ You Drop" winner with Texas not too far behind

-sometimes he paints his nails black, purple, or gold

-his father was an absolute piece of sh*t and abused him mentally and physically before selling him to America, so now Loui also has ✨abandonment issues✨, and thinks that his friends will abandon him if he isn’t good enough.

-at random times, he will cuddle up to somebody on the couch and fall asleep hugging them, no matter who it is. And nobody, NOBODY, not even Alaska, have the heart to move him. They will just sit there and continue watching TV or whatever they were doing.

-he also purrs like a cat, so whenever he decides to mess with New York about basically being a cat in human form, York will shut him up by dragging him to the couch and reducing him to a tired purring puddle of adorableness. He shuts up pretty quickly.

-in that one episode where Loui insults Ohio (WNR 9/8 pt2: Boneless Chicken Wings Man, if ur curious), the aftermath of that was Loui just continuously apologizing to Ohio for insulting him and Ohio reassuring him that it was ok and all fun and games (😭😭 Bless his lil’ heart 😭😭)

-Tex and Loui are actually closer than most people think, and same with Mass and Loui. They just aren’t the duos that people would expect to exist and get along.

-so we all know that Loui is a sweet funky lil’ guy that could do no wrong, but he can most definitely be a b*tch if he wants to

-he knows how to play a bunch of instruments and he has a really nice singing voice

-as mentioned in one of my previous posts, Loui speaks French. And so do a few other states. Those states have heard and understood what Loui was saying whenever he decided to insult someone in French and to say they were stunned would be an understatement. Example:

*Alabama won’t shut up about his state being the one where Mardi Gras started*

Loui, done with his sh*t: *under his breath* Nan, je ne pense pas que tu vailles la quantité de dynamite qu'il faudrait pour t'envoyer en enfer…. (Naw, i dont think you're worth the amount of dynamite it would take to blow you to the pits of hell….)

Texas, who heard and understood him: *the man was too stunned to speak, but he’s also trying to not burst out laughing*

-Loui enjoys scaring people, but he also gets jumpscared really easily. And he doesn’t have a fight or flight response, he has a fight or freeze response, meaning he either punches the person that scared him, or he just freezes in place. One time, Alaska decided that it would be funny to stick his cold hand up Loui’s hoodie and place it on his back as he was zoned out and washing dishes.

Yea Texas ended up teasing Alaska about he got thrown into the kitchen island with a knife to his throat when he landed by someone that is only 5’7 and looks like he couldn’t harm a fly.

-sometimes Loui gets really anxious during meetings when things start getting too chaotic, and normally Florida would take that as a sign to calm down a bit, but when Florida doesn’t notice, Texas is the next one up (cuz I headcanon that Texas sits next to Loui). He’ll just reach over and grab Loui’s hand and just hold it for a while to calm him down before he has a full on anxiety attack. Or if there’s not too many states there (cOuGh CoUgH- Cali, Oklahoma, and Alaska- cOuGh CoUgH), he will snake a hand around Loui and hug him till he’s calm again.

-Loui is perhaps one of the only people that Alaska fears. For reasons.

=======================================================================

NOW TAKE SOME INCORRECT QUOTES WITH LOUI BEING THE MAIN CHARACTER BI-

===================================================================

York: Did it hurt when you fell-  Loui: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt-  York: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs.  Loui: ...  York: You just laid there for 15 minutes.

============================================

Loui: I will send my army to attack!  Loui: *releases a dumpster of raccoons whilst grinning like a maniac*

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Loui: Don't go to the kitchen.  York: Why?  Loui: I saw a spider.  York: Well, did you kill it?  Loui: It has 8 arms and I only have 2, it's not fair...

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Gov: Stop setting things on fire because you're curious about what will happen. What will happen is fire.  Loui: But what if something else happens just this one time.

============================================

*at a sleepover in Tex’s room (with Florida, Georgia, and Loui)*

Tex: Why aren’t you sleeping?  Loui: I’m too busy plotting your murder to sleep, Texas.  Tex:  Loui: ...The stupid ghosts and spirits. Tex: *wrapping their arms around Loui* Awwww, bud- (Mama Texas hours-)

============================================

Florida: Truth or dare?  Loui: Truth.  Florida : How many hours have you slept this week?  Loui:  Loui: Dare.  Florida: Go to sleep.  Loui: I don't like this game.

============================================

Some random b*tch with a gun to Loui’s head: What happens if I pull this trigger? Heaven?  Loui: *unfazed* Bold of you to assume I'll go to Heaven.

============================================

Gov: Just be careful, Louisiana!  Loui: *heading out the door* I'm always careful, Gov!  Loui: It's everything around me that's careless.

============================================

Loui: *Gasp*  York: wHAT??  Loui: What if soy milk is just milk introducing itself in Spanish?  York: *inhales*  Cali, in another room with Washington: Why can I hear screeching?

============================================

Florida: If I were a drink, I'd be Cherry Vanilla Coke. If you were a drink, what would you be?  Tex: Bleach.  Loui: Sewage.  Florida, hugging them both: ...Please calm down, edgelords.

============================================

York: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB F(speaks New York)!  Loui: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!

============================================

(Georgia and Texas were tasked with keeping an eye on Florida and Loui, Geo took Florida, Tex took Loui)

Tex: I lost Loui.  Gov: How did you LOSE Louisiana?!  Tex: To be fair, he is very small.

============================================

Mass: Alright, listen up you little shits.  Mass: Not you Loui. You’re an angel and we’re thrilled you’re here.

============================================

Utah to Loui: Look at you! All cute and small! I could just eat you up!  Loui: *proceeds to kick him in the shin and run away*  Alaska, limping while walking past: Rule number 1, don't call Louisiana cute or small.

============================================

Alabama, after he decided it would a good idea to jumpscare Loui: Is it still visible? Where Loui slapped me?  York: Your face looks like a don't walk signal.  Florida: Your face looks like a photo negative for the hamburger helper box.  Tex: A palm reader could tell Loui's future by looking at your face.  Gov, cringing at the mark: The phrase 'talk to the hand cause the face ain't listening' doesn't work for you, because the hand is your face.

Alabama: ...A simple 'yes' would've sufficed.

============================================

#ben brainard

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hadeschan · 2 years

Photo

WE’RE SORRY, THIS ITEM HAS SOLD OUT

item # K19C50

RARE Pra Khun Paen Um Gai, Nua Lek Lai Jet Si, Luang Phu Suang. A Pra Khun Paen holding a fighting rooster amulet patched with a piece of monk robe of Luang Phu Suang in the back, stamped with Thai text says “Luang Phu Suang, Ban La Lom, Si Sa Ket “, and written cabalistic writings with gold color marking pen. It was casted from Rainbow Titanium Hematite or Lek Lai Jet Si, in Thai which means 7 colors mystical iron ore. Luang Phu Suang and Luang Phu Soi travel to a cave at Phu Tabaeng or Phnom Tbeng in Preah Vihear, Cambodia to perform rituals to harvest Lek Lai Jet Si (Rainbow Titanium Hematite) themselves, and brought it back to Bangkok to make this amulet. Made by Luang Phu Suang of Wat Phrai Phatthana for Luang Phu Soi of Wat Liab Rat Bamrung, Bangkok in BE 2519 (CE 1976). With Grand Consecration / Blessing Ceremony at the temple of Wat Liab Rat Bamrung, and the 18th Supreme Patriarch of Thailand, Somdet Phra Sangharaja (Vasana Vāsano) was Master of the Ceremony, attended by Luang Phu Suang of Wat Phrai Phatthana, Pra Archan Fund Archaro of Wat Pa Udom Somphon, Luang Phu Toh of Wat Pradu Chimphli, Luang Phor Pare of Wat Pikul Thong, and other guru monks. And after the BE 2519 Consecration / Blessing Ceremony, this Batch of Pra Khun Paen amulets was kept inside the temple of Wat Liab Rat Bamrung for another continuously 20 years Consecration / Blessing Ceremonies, and it was available for purchase in BE 2539 (CE 1996).

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*This Pra Khun Paen Um Gai Nua Lek Lai Jet Si, Luang Phu Suang is said to be a forbidden amulet for customers to wear at the Gambling Houses and Casinos on "no-man's land" between the Thai and Cambodian borders.

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BEST FOR: Pra Khun Paen Um Gai, Nua Lek Lai Jet Si, Luang Phu Suang is a lucky charm that has history of success, the best for gamblers, and a lucky charm whilst gambling to win money from the houses, and it guards wealth by reducing money loss and making the business more stable. Pra Khun Paen is one of Thailand’s Best amulets for Nak-layng, ruffian (a violent person, especially one involved in crime), Mafia Boss, Crime Prevention Police Officer, Park Ranger, Field Soldier and Nak-layng Poo Ying (a connoisseur of women / a womanizer). Pra Khun Paen dispels bad vibes, and it has a tendency to draw positive energy. Nang Nieow, a rock-hard skin that is completely impervious to damage with bludgeoning or piercing weapons. Kongkraphan (it makes you invulnerable to all weapon attack), Klawklad Plodpai (it pushes you away from all danger), Maha-ut (it helps stop gun from shooting at you). Wealth Fetching, Maha Larp (it brings lucky wealth), Mahasanay (Magic Charm) it helps turn you to prince charming in the eyes of girls. Metta Maha Niyom (it makes people around you love you, be nice to you, and willing to support you for anything), Kaa Kaai Dee (it helps tempt your customers to buy whatever you are selling, and it helps attract new customers and then keep them coming back, and warning of danger. Ponggan Poot-pee pee-saat Kunsai Mondam Sa-niat jan-rai Sat Meepit (it helps ward off evil spirit, demon, bad ghost, bad omen, bad spell, curse, accursedness, black magic, misfortune, doom, and poisonous animals). And this amulet helps protect you from manipulators, backstabbers, and toxic people.

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Pra Khun Paen

The Pra Khun Paen is a type of amulet with figure of Pra Buddha Chinnaraj of Wat Phra Si Rattana Mahathat Woramahawihan (Wat Yai or Wat Pra Buddha Chinnaraj) seating inside an elaborate arch. This type of amulet was first discovered at Wat Pra Roop Archaeology Site, Suphan Buri Province. And such type of ancient baked clay amulet with figure of Pra Buddha Chinnaraj is called “Pra Khun Paen” ever since. It was called Pra Khun Paen to honor the Thai famous Warrior General Khun Paen, the Governor of Suphan Buri Province in the Kingdom of Ayutthaya.

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Rainbow Titanium Hematite (Lek Lai Jet Si or 7 colors mystical iron ore)

Hematite is a common iron oxide compound with the formula, Fe2O3 and is widely found in rocks and soils. Hematite naturally occurs in black to steel or silver-gray, brown to reddish-brown, or red colors. It is mined as an important ore mineral of iron. It is electrically conductive. Hematite is not only harder than pure iron, but also much more brittle.

The Rainbow Titanium Hematite has the potential to help you connect with higher powers, unlocking your ability to ascend into the cosmos spiritually while getting rid of any limitations you feel you might have. It transcends your physical being, allowing you to find enlightenment without getting lost in the fray. The Rainbow Titanium Hematite keeps you firm in your place, giving you the strength to stand up to any negativity that swirls around you. The meaning and properties of this stone promote equilibrium, encouraging self-confidence and giving you the freedom to explore on a deeper level.

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The monk robe of Buddhist monk

The monk robe of Buddhist monk is considered as relics. “Relics come from masters who have devoted their entire lifetime to spiritual practices that are dedicated to the welfare of all. Every part of their body and relics carries positive energy to inspire goodness.”

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Luang Phu Suang

Luang Phu Suang was a monk from Cambodia that is very respectful among Thais and Cambodians along the boarder. Luang Phu Suang was called “tay-wá-daa dern din” in Thai which means “a Deva Walking on Earth” by his Looksit (disciples / followers /adherents/ worshippers / devotees). Luang Phu Suang passed away on September 8, BE 2543 (CE 2000), and his body remains unrotten, and on display in a glass casket in the Mondop Prasat Luang Phu Suang Pavilion at Wat Phrai Phatthana, Si Sa Ket Province for people to pay respect. Luang Phu Suang is called “Luang Ta Bok or Luang Eaw Bok” by Cambodians.

No one knows when Luang Phu Suang was born, and how old he actually was. Many people said they saw Luang Phu Suang that old since they were young, some at the age of 7, but they are now over 80. For instance, Luang Phu Soi, an abbot of Wat Liab Rat Bamrung, Bangkok. Luang Phu Soi was originally from Cambodia, and passed away in BE 2542 / CE 1999 (76 years old). Luang Phu Soi said that he saw Luang Phu Suang in Cambodia and Thailand since Luang Phu Soi was a novice, and Luang Phu Suang was very old and never change. Luang Phu Soi invited Luang Phu Suang to join the consecration/blessing ceremonies of the amulets at Wat Liab Rat Bamrung so many times. And Luang Phu Hong, an abbot of Wat Phet Buri, Surin Province, passed away in BE 2557 / CE 2014 (97 years old), and Luang Phu Boh, an abbot of Wat Ban Bing, Si Sa Ket Province, passed away in BE 2555 / CE 2012 (90 years old) also said they saw Luang Phu Suang that old since they were young monks.

Luang Phu Suang was a loner, and did not like staying at the temple. Luang Phu Suang did not require anything luxury or comfort his life was simple, just a alms bowl, and an old monk robe. Luang Phu Suang loved staying in the area of villagers in an isolated small hut alone. Where Luang Phu Suang was staying Luang Phu Suang would make a mark, a kite made of his monk robe or white paper, and tied up a kite on a top of a bamboo pole for his Looksit (disciples / followers /adherents/ worshippers / devotees) to visit him if they needed help. And a “must have” was a bon fire that would never be extinguished 24/7. Luang Phu Suang would practice “Grasin Fire”, the meditation that relies on a bon fire to meditate. Sometimes his looksit offered him stuffs for his living, Luang Phu Suang would toss those stuffs in the bon fire.

Luang Phu Suang was a very kind monk with compassion, and never be angry to anyone, Luang Phu Suang kept smiling at all time. The biography and the origin of Luang Phu Suang is still a mystery til these days.

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*with Certificate of Authenticity issued by Thaprachan Buddha Amulet Magazine (prathaprachan-mag.com).

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DIMENSION: 4.00 cm high / 2.60 cm wide / 0.80 cm thick

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item # K19C50

Price: price upon request, pls PM and/or email us [email protected]

100% GENUINE WITH 365 DAYS AUTHENTICITY GUARANTEE.

Item location: Hong Kong, SAR

Ships to: Worldwide

Delivery: Estimated 7 days handling time after receipt of cleared payment. Please allow additional time if international delivery is subject to customs processing.

Shipping: FREE Thailandpost International registered mail. International items may be subject to customs processing and additional charges.

Payments: PayPal / Western Union / MoneyGram /maybank2u.com / DBS iBanking / Wechat Pay / Alipay / INSTAREM / PromptPay International / Remitly

**********************************************

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metataxy · 2 years

Text

I share my dreams with ghosts, #3

Summary: The man who calls himself Luthen Rael was a Jedi once. This is how he survives Order 66, and what comes after.

Not posting to AO3 until I figure out where this is going!

Part 1 here , Part 2

It is a long time before he sees another Jedi.

Six months passes. He rebuilds his business. His mother’s interference in his life recedes with her concern. He passes one tenday in four with her on Alderaan, escorting her to society parties and speaking cordially with what eligible ladies his cousin hadn’t repulsed. He would not enjoy it, except for the obvious pleasure Menica derives from his company and compliance. From the dossiers provided by the Shadows on his cousin, Luthen Rael had ignored his mother to the point of disrespect.

It would be safer for his cover to be cruel. But with what few years left her, he thinks his mother prefers he risk being a compassionate son.

He tells himself that so he can pretend he does it for her.

Mostly, he does it for himself. He cannot help it. Making himself happy is impossible. Making her happy is the easiest thing he has ever done. He is, after all, a student of Dooku, and the man had been exacting in training him to blend with the nobility. He dances the Alderaani waltzes with aplomb and works quotes from Nubian literature into his conversation, patronizes the appropriate gentleman’s clubs, and in every way, convinces everyone that Luthen Rael has become no more or less than the best version of himself.

Along the way, he sells antiques and makes polite enquiries and learns a thousand small secrets: who is sleeping with who, who can be bought, who can’t. He learns about the quiet investments of supposed philanthropists in ‘re-education facilities’ that churn out fortune commodities with their unpaid inmates, and their trade in ‘personal care workers’.

He learns nothing about why the clones turned on them, or how many of his people remain.

One late night on Coruscant, as he sorts through a cache deeded to Luthen Rael by the Shadows, the deadbolt slides itself open from the inside.

He stops, then draws his blaster from his holster and ducks below the table. The doors opens. He can only see the being’s knees from this vantage. He primes himself for whatever will happen next.

Quinlan Vos laughs.

“You could just tell me you didn’t want to see me, Rael. No need to hide yourself on my account.”

He drops the blaster, though the safety is off and he’s told initiates a thousand times never to do just that. He rounds the table, and there is Quinlan. He’s cut off his dreads and he’s either removed or covered his facial tattoo, and his eyes are the gold of the Fallen. But he’s Quinlan, and otherwise as he’s always been, dressed in spacer garb and smelling faintly of deathsmoke and spices.

Rael embraces him and damns the fact he can’t feel him in the Force.

“Oof—that’s a bit more like it. Got some brew in here?” Quinlan asks. Neither of them mention that the other might be crying.

They settle down over an antique table carved from Worrosshyk wood and a bottle of Corellian brandy.

“So, old man. You’re alive,” Quinlan observes, after swigging his first shot.

Rael ignores the ‘old man’. It’s accurate anyways. “Yeah.” He sips his brandy and rolls the first mouthful around his mouth, savouring the burn. “Didn’t expect that.” He pauses a moment. “I’m Force-Null. Burnt out my connection.”

Quinlan leans back in his chair. “Thought so. Fuck.” He tops up Rael’s glass, then refills his own. “Rough, man.”

There is an awkward silence at the understatement.

“Why,” Rael’s voice cracks. “Did any of the Jedi actually assassinate those politicians?”

“Fuck no,” Quinlan says, then pauses. “Not that I know, anyways. Wouldn’t make sense, they were mostly on our side. Had to be Palpatine.”

“Right.” He sips again, glances down at the Ruusan commemorative coin on the table. “The clones?”

“They did something to them,” Quinlan said, sipping his drink carefully. “I’ve grabbed a few to check them out. They’re completely loyal to Palpatine. And once they realize you’re a jedi, they turn into meat-droids. All ‘Good soldiers follow orders’ and that nonsense.” He fixes Rael with his hawk’s eyes. “Kill any if you get the chance. They’re not people anymore.”

The assessment is harsh, but he doesn’t argue with it. Maybe some of the clones could fight whatever was wrong with them, but he didn’t think it was worth the lives of the remaining Jedi to test that. Speaking of which…

“Did any of us survive?”

Quinlan’s right eye twitches, and he puts his glass down. “Can’t tell you that,” he says reflexively, then thinks about it. “Yeah. Some of us survived. The Medicorps I was supposed to get offworld, when you gave me the assist? They got offworld. Thanks. Can’t say more than that.”

Luthen feels satisfied in a way he has not for a long time. “Did anyone kill Skywalker?”

Quinlan’s face darkens, and Force-Null as he is, Luthen must be imagining it, the way the air feels charged, the faint smell of ozone. “Obi-Wan went after him. No one heard back from either of them. Hopefully Obi killed that fucker.”

“You can’t sense Kenobi?”

“If I could, I couldn’t tell you,” Quinlan reminds him, picking at the cuff seams on his nerfhide jacket. “No. I can’t. You ever see a storm on Kamino? Thousand foot waves. Water spouts. Absolute madness. That’s the Force right now, and you’re floating on a life raft in the middle of that. Be glad you burnt out your connection when you did,” Quinlan says bitterly. “Anyone left who’s remotely functional had to Fall to cope with it. The ones who didn’t are all mad or catatonic.”

“You can’t tell me a lot of things,” Rael muses, looking out into the dusty shelves of curios piled in the cache. “I’ve seen the wanted posters. They’re still hunting us. How? They caught us off-guard with the clones, but it should take a squad of bounty hunters to take down a Knight who knows they’re coming, if they can even find him.”

Quinlan taps his finger against his empty glass. Rael does not refill it, and pointedly caps the bottle and moves it out of the man’s reach. Quin scowls. “First, they’re not all Knights. We’re moving Padawans and Corpsmen and even freaking families who were going to give up their infants to the creche. Second,” his voice tightens, “it’s not bounty hunters you need to worry about. It’s traitors.”

“Who?” Rael demands, mind considering the possibilities.

Quinlan scowls at him.

“Geez, man. Shields.”

Rael gives him a pointed look.

“Dude. Don’t give me that stare. I’ve met lifelong Force Nulls who block better than you are right now. With all the intel knocking around your head, you have to get your shit together,” Quin tells him, serious. “Or you’re a liability.”

Only after this discussion, when Quin has gone, does it occur to Rael what a Shadow might have to do under this new Empire, with someone with too much information and no way to protect it.

“The traitors,” he repeats.

“The traitors,” Quinlan agrees. “I don’t have names. No, I’m not lying. Anyone who’s met them in person is dead. We’ve gotten some blurry security footage and some text intel though. Based on fighting style, one’s a former guardian. Tall, slim, humanoid, wears all black—” Quin glances down at himself and scoffs, “though I guess that’s standard for darksiders. “Skin looked pale. Was wearing some kind of ear protectors, might have been a Pau’an.”

Bile rises at the back of Rael’s throat. A guardian? It feels perverse. The Temple Guards, like the Shadows, are an Order within the Order. He doesn’t know their Oaths, but he does know they are stricter, more binding, than the Oaths of ordinary Masters. A Jedi Master vows to follow the will of the Force and the guidance of the Order. There is a great deal of flexibility in that promise though, and Rael’s lineage-brother, Qui-Gon, had been famous for exploiting it.

But a Guardian is sworn and bound to a Temple, through means that Dooku suspected to be the lighter counterpart of Sith Magick, and everyone forgets that Temples are not safe. Any place persistently inhabited by Force Users begins to acquire a sentience of its own. The location of the Coruscant Temple might have changed many times in the past few millennia, but its blocks and foundation are ancient. He imagines places like it inspired stories of primitive gods.

In those stories, oathbreaking never ended well.

“I hope the Temple eats him alive.”

“It’s been corrupted somehow.”

Rael swallows back his gorge and somehow refrains from asking how?. “Any good news for me tonight?”

“Well, the other traitor we’ve heard about recently has a breathing dysfunction and is on a respirator. We found that out by listening to the comms while he slaughtered two knights and a master, by the way.”

Rael laughed helplessly, because he couldn’t cry. Quinlan waited for him to stop.

He was waiting awhile.

“There have to be others though. We’ve had too many reports of Jedi killing Jedi, or civilians, for it to be made up.”

“How do you know they were Jedi and not more of Palpatine’s plants, trying to make us look culpable?”

“They used telekinesis.”

Rael went silent.

“Not all the ones killing civilians are traitors either. Some of them just went mad. Met a couple. The killing started as self-defense, when the mobs turned on them, and now? They can’t stop. It’s addictive for Fallen, you know.” He didn’t. “It’s mostly the younger ones who have the issue. Grew up in a warzone, getting shit from civilians for not protecting their posh asses well enough, this just tipped them over.” He steals the bottle off the shelf with a telekinetic tug Rael can no longer counter and pours himself another drink. “Offee wasn’t the only kid we fucked up. Just the only one with the balls to tell us to our faces.”

Rael, like most Masters, does not like thinking of Barriss Offee, of the Jedi she could have made, if only they kept her in the Halls of Healing, if only they hadn’t sent her into an active warzone, if only they’d noticed how she was struggling.

He likes even less thinking that there are others as lost as she is out there, easy targets for the Sith to recruit if they are gathering Fallen Knights.

“How can I help?”

Quinlan smiles, slow and genuine.

“Now that’s just the question I hoped you’d ask.”

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

The details are straightforward. Before the first untimely demise of Luthen Rael, he’d been a shareholder in several businesses whose chief commodity was sentient life. No reason he couldn’t revive that revenue stream. The Empire was even more willing to disregard such foibles than the Republic. In fact, Quinlan muses, they might well award him for ‘providing a livelihood’ to otherwise ‘unemployable citizens’.

This time, however, the skinhouses where Rael offloads his merchandise will be fronts for the Underground.

It’s clever. It’s nothing he hadn’t done before. And he doesn’t like it, because, “My mother won’t like it.”

It isn’t a protest. He already knows he’s doing this. Quinlan already knows he’s doing it. So why does he bother to even say it?

“Right,” Quinlan says, annoyed. “Luthen Rael is all reformed. Heard he’d even gone altruistic. Thought even the excesses of the Empire had pushed even that skeevy old man to shape up, didn’t know it was you.” He’d lit a deathstick, and Rael’s fingers itched to have it in his hand. “You got to cut it out.”

“No one knows it’s me.”

“No one’s paid attention to you. Yet. Keep attending all these charity galas and chatting up the political hotspots, and someone will. Compassion leaves a fucking trail, man,” he flicked his cigarette, “and we can’t afford to have anyone outed. Your mother doesn’t have to know about it. She’s what, 90?”

“84.”

“Exactly.”

That is how Luthen Rael starts trafficking in ‘slaves’, some legitimately bought up out of rehabilitation facilities, some fleeing the Empire using falsified indentures from the Outer Rim. He deals with the paperwork. Quinlan handles the rest, so Rael rarely meets the refugees in person.

He continues to trade in antiquities, and alongside those, in secrets.

With the Shadows’ caches open to him, his own growing network of contacts, and a measure of luck, he gains a reputation as one able to source anything.

He takes care never to go to any event high-profile enough to host the Emperor or his acolytes, but some of Palpatine’s lackeys visit his shop, looking for curios to curry favour with their superiors. He sees the man’s sycophants at parties.

At this point, it is fairly obvious Chancellor Palpatine is the somehow the Sith Lord, and not just because he is best placed to benefit from the deaths of the Jedi. Sly Moore and his cronies come to parties wearing kyber amid so many other cheap baubles. ‘Tokens of the Emperor’s favour’, they boast, and Rael does his best to look suitably impressed, and ask appropriate questions. Where did the gems come from and how did he get them and who did they belong to.

The answers come easily. No one is expecting a spy at these banquets. Rebels are rimscum, too poor for anything but ammunition. Also, Sly and his ilk have all but rehearsed their responses in anticipation of these very questions.

They tell him the names of the Jedi who owned the Kyber, and their bloody histories in the wars. As importantly, they tell him how those Jedi died.

“Killed by Darth Vader, you know. One of the Emperor’s foremost generals.”

“The Grand Inquisitor. Not a very sociable chap. Almost feral—” the thick-waisted moff leans in, “they say he was a jedi before the Emperor rehabilitated him, and you’d believe it. Teeth like knives. Half expected him to tear out my throat!”

He gives a delicate shudder. Rael imagines the protest of the kyber strung about his triple-chinned neck. Hopes the man cuts himself on its facets as he strokes it with his fat fingers. According to the moff, it had been taken from the saber of a Jedi so bloodthirsty ze’d been field-promoted to General when zer superior died. Ze’d gone on to slaughter half their troops when ze’d been declared traitor.

Kyber are inorganic lifeforms. Perhaps they are not quite sentient, but they approach in developing feelings and opinions alongside their Jedi. For this kyber, for its Padawan, who had lost zer Master too early and had been forced to fight so fools like this moff could live easy, Rael could have cut the man down.

Instead, he drinks his champagne, and asks the senator at his side about his acquisition.

A gold-eyed Falleen servitor across the room smiles at him, flashes what all the dandies in this room would see as a flirtatious wave. Rael smiles and signs back.

He won’t be seen leaving the party with the servitor. Luthen Rael’s tastes were too well-established by his predecessor: he prefers human girls.

Jedi Shadow Tailen Fuugo meets him instead at his shop days later, to pawn off some valuables of dubious provenance before he flies offworld.

In an hour, the unidentified Falleen will flee the shop after injuring Rael, and Rael himself will call the authorities, claiming someone was trafficking in stolen articles. In an hour, Rael will send some of those stolen articles back to their undeserving owners, thus cementing his repute as a reputable component of Imperial commerce. In an hour, Fuugo will stripped off his disguise and vanished into the underworld of Coruscant.

Inside that hour, and the sanctity of Rael’s backroom, they are two Jedi.

It is dangerous to acknowledge each other, more dangerous to meet.

They do it anyways. They need to, to exchange intel, and who else can they trust these days?

“Don’t even trust former Jedi,” Fuugo warns him. “Not unless you know them personally. Not even if they haven’t Fallen.”

The Sith are doing something, to the Jedi they capture. Twisting them, indoctrinating them. There are ways to break a Jedi, ways to enslave Force-Sensitives. Rael underwent a fair number of them to order to gain resistance when he became a Shadow. He experienced or learnt of others under Dooku’s tutelage. Force cuffs are standard. Psychotropic and addictive substances are favoured by the Hutts and the cartels. All of these, along with pain and violation of the mind and body, were employed by Sith during the wars a millennium past.

He doubts so effort or technique will be necessary for the Jedi of this age. Most of them are already broken.

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

Notes: Yeaaaaah, just more sad Jedi, because who doesn’t enjoy torturing a protagonist? Poor Luthen.

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#Andor #Luthen Rael #Quinlan Vos #Order 66 #Star Wars #Jedi

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