#to live and enjoy life and to rear children

[ahamkara-apologist]

Gonna be insufferable from now on in using Taranis as an example of why the ahamkara deserve a second chance and why they aren't all inherently evil or dangerous entities but are instead just as nuanced and morally neutral as any other predatory species btw. Because if there was anything that Starcrossed showed us its that we've been learning about the lives and nature of ahamkara from the very biased perspective of one individual (Riven, who is proud and hungry and cunning and rejoices in it, as well as has a very good reason to hold a substantial grudge aginst humankind) and from the outsider fear-knowledge of their prey and that is not by any means a good way of measuring the worth of a species or casting judgement on their fate. They would deserve the right to live even if Taranis was not kind or had not given his life to save his eggs, because being capable of love is not a determinant of worth either, but it DOES prove that they are not inherently evil and that living in a universe with them is not an impossible nor unnecessarily dangerous endeavor

[trikaranos]

TRIKARANOS CHAPTER I: S·T·T·L

TRIKARANOS is a dramatized narrative based on ancient events following Crassus (and Pompey and Caesar) through the years 87-48 BCE. Intended for an adult audience.

⭐ Trikaranos will always be free to read. In the near future, you’ll have the option to support this comic & my ability to spend time making it (I Am Extremely Fucking Broke And Have Bills To Pay etc etc) through Patreon! currently, I have a tip jar!

⭐ There is no set update schedule (chapters vary in length and will be posted as I finish working on them)

⭐ alternative places to read it (coming soon!)

CREDITS all additional art used are in the public domain, and the specific images used are open access, etc

🍊the first collage panel is combination of: Plate 113: Greeks Battling the Trojans (from Ovid's Metamorphoses), Antonio Tempesta / The Trojans pulling the wooden horse into the city, Giulio Bonasone (after Francesco Primaticcio) / Terracotta hydria displaying Achilles waiting to ambush Triolos and Polyxena 🍊the second collage panel is: The Lictors bringing Brutus the bodies of his Sons, Jacques Louis David / the paint over of Brutus executing is own sons is my own work based on the composition of this relief of Brutus and condemning his sons to death. 🍊I also used my own art: a panel from the Prologue, and my own illustration of Brutus with the bodies of his sons

📖 PREVIOUS CHAPTER | START HERE | ToC (under construction!)

UNDER THE CUT creator’s commentary, ancient citations, whatever else seems relevant. ideally, this is optional! you shouldn’t need the citations for it to make sense as it unfolds since it’s a comic and a story first and foremost, but it’s here if you’re curious about something or want to see where the inspiration is coming from!

I'm so fucking normal about Crassus and his family (<<< this is a lie)

Marcus Crassus was the son of a man who had been censor and had enjoyed a triumph; but he was reared in a small house with two brothers. His brothers were married while their parents were still alive, and all shared the same table, which seems to have been the chief reason why Crassus was temperate and moderate in his manner of life. When one of his brothers died, Crassus took the widow to wife, and had his children by her, and in these relations also he lived as well-ordered a life as any Roman.

Plutarch, Crassus

like, it actively fucks me up that this is something that's survived about him for over 2,000 years. they all ate together at the same table. Jesus Christ.

so! Crassus' dad! Publius Licinius Crassus (consul 97) fought on the side of Cn. Octavius (consul 87) in the Bellum Octavianum, and it didn't go great for him.

Crassus: A Political Biography, B.A. Marshall

also. currently, if you look Publius Licinius Crassus up on wikipedia for an overview, his page lists his son (and also my main character for this comic) with the cognomen Dives, which is in-fucking-correct.

Marcus Crassus and the Late Roman Republic, Allen Mason Ward

and to circle back to houses and meals shared with family, some citations that made me feel some kind of way when I read them

Marcus Crassus and the Late Roman Republic, Allen Mason Ward

finally, there is discourse or whatever on the placement of the sons of Publius Licinius Crassus. Crassus is the baby brother here simply because I'm writing this story and I get to pick the themes, but also because no one has provided a solid enough argument for him being the second eldest son that I'm willing to buy into with enthusiasm, and I'm more inclined towards G. Sampson's conclusion on the matter.

Defeat of Rome: Crassus, Carrhae, and the Invasion of the East, Gareth C. Sampson

and while I'm just kind of talking about stuff that I read that I enjoyed, this article by Martin Stone lives in my head rent free

A Year of One's Own: Dating the Praetorship of Marcus Crassus, Martin Stone

[haggishlyhagging]

Part of the reason that we don't tend to think of medieval women as workers is that the major expectation for them was that they would be wives and, crucially, mothers. A young woman, no matter her place in society, spent much of her time preparing for her eventual role as wife and mother in the household of her husband's family. Her parents wanted to ensure that they brought up their daughter in such a way that she would not "be a sore vexation to her bridegroom," as the Church father and theologian John of Chrysostom (347-407) put it. So when a young unmarried woman did receive, say, an education, it was largely tied to investing in her theoretical value as a bride. Well-educated women made for good wives since they could later educate their own children, as we will see. They would also be expected to run their own households, a job that involved fiscal acumen, and in the case of larger households, to manage staff. When a medieval girl was educated, it wasn't necessarily an altruistic activity to better her for her own good. It was a calculated marketing strategy and a means of marking her as an excellent potential mother.

The focus on motherhood and the getting of heirs existed for a number of reasons. As discussed in Chapter 3, for the rich, it was a way of ensuring that the property that a family had amassed would be passed down to a younger generation and their interests would be protected. Poor families needed children not necessarily to safeguard property but to have help on it. In an agricultural society, extra hands to help on the farm were in demand, especially when they didn't have to be paid wages. But regardless of whether you wanted kids to carry on your legacy or to help on the farm, you had to contend with one significant barrier: infant mortality. Children died at an incredibly high rate, not only in the medieval period but up until the twentieth century. At the very lowest, somewhere between 20 and 30 percent of all medieval children under seven died, though some put the mark as high as 50 percent. As a result, families required many more births of children than we are accustomed to in order to ensure viable heirs.

Producing all the heirs that their male relatives demanded put women's lives in real danger, but this danger was an accepted part of their position and calling as wives. The Hali Meidhad or Letter on Virginity, which was written in the English Midlands, acknowledged the pain, danger, and worry of mothers, stating that "in carrying [a child] there is heaviness and constant discomfort; in giving birth to it, the cruelest of all pains, and sometimes death; in bringing it up many weary hours. . . . By God, woman, . . . you should avoid this act above all things, for the integrity of your flesh, for the sake of your body, and for your physical health." The danger and pain—the real labor of childbirth and child rearing—were thus not lost of medieval commentators. This was the job that medieval women were expected to carry out, and it sucked.

Beyond childbirth and -rearing, the position of wife in and or itself implied work. According to Jerome, "Men marry, indeed, so as to get a manager for the house, to solace weariness, to banish solitude." The Letter on Virginity likewise directly challenges the idea that women benefit from subsuming themselves into marriage and motherhood. When a submissive would-be wife states that men's strength is needed for help with work and to secure adequate food, and that wealth is the result of marriage and several healthy children, the Letter asserts that such a picture of marriage deliberately misleads women, and that any advantages that they experience from marriage and motherhood come at too high a personal cost. Marriage, the Letter insists, is not a way of forming a team and enjoying a family but is "servitude to a man." Sugarcoat it one might, but marriage was not a romantic partnership but a contract, in which women signed themselves up for a life of grinding maternal labor as well as work alongside their husbands, for which they would not be acknowledged in historical records.

Medieval women appear as parts of households, or “wives of” named men in historical records. But wives were expected to take on the role of helpmeet and coworker alongside their husbands. Even those who heeded the warnings of the Church and turned from a life of motherhood toward God would find themselves working away inside nunneries. Similarly, single laywomen had to work to get by, and society marked out positions specifically for women who, for whatever reason, were not attached to a household. All these women are worth seeing as workers.

-Eleanor Janega, The Once and Future Sex: Going Medieval on Women’s Roles in Society

[bangtanhoneys]

Grace & Jin: New Fishing Buddy

Note: Seokjin, Happy Birthday! I hope your birthday in the military is just as special as it would be if you were here. Let's make your 2025 birthday even more special. To readers, I hope you enjoy it.

Grace had it all planned, near enough. 

She had gone out and bought a little box, added some shredded green tissue paper and then filled it with what she needed. It was hard to do everything in secret when you belonged to BTS and Dispatch wanted to follow your every move, nevermind there needed to be a bodyguard with you or one of the boys wanted to follow.

This was something she had to do on her own, without anyone else knowing. 

There was a feeling of being completely unsure of whether this was a good thing. The news she had kept secret for the past week had made her stomach churn every moment of the day and she was slowly starting to run out of excuses, with so many eyes on her from the team, stylists and her boyfriend. 

Yoongi had commented that she had been looking paler than usual and for Yoongi to notice, that meant everyone else was noticing. 

How do you keep a baby secret?

You simply can’t. Not in the industry that demanded 110% from you now with all military service completed and dusted, the boys rested and now they were rearing to go. Let’s not even mention the massive comeback that Big Hit had planned now that BTS was finally back to eight members. 

A baby would throw a complete spanner in the works. 

But they had wanted this even if it was a complete and utter surprise.

There were so many conversations before the military and afterwards about children. They weren’t getting any younger, their careers weren’t slowing down and the demand for BTS was even stronger so when could Kim Seokjin & Chu Grace actually be a couple and have the family they always wanted?

It seemed life had said ‘screw it. You’re going to be pregnant now.’

Grace let out a long breath and pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling the nausea swell with nerves that had nothing to do with morning sickness. Jin would be due home at any point now after his schedules for the day had been finished with and she knew he had left HYBE because of the message he had sent her. 

The two had finally moved into an apartment of their own, a week after Grace had finished her tour. Jin had been on the hunt since his military discharge to find somewhere just for the two of them to own, that hadn’t been their own separate spaces, with enough bedrooms for future family members and for visitors. An apartment, split over two floors, with enough bathrooms and five bedrooms had appeared on the market at their old dorm location in Hannam on the Hill.  

The apartment was a complete mishmash of the two with Seokjin’s MapleStory characters displayed on a shelf in the hallway, with Grace’s love of British things displayed in the kitchen and living room. The bedrooms had been decorated neutrally but each with its own little theme though Jungkook had taken one room as his own. 

And now one of those spare rooms could be the nursery. 

Min-Ji, the cat the two had adopted, had taken to lounging in his brand-new cat tree where he lorded it up over everyone. But even he had sensed what was coming and what changes were due to come along, hiding himself away in one of the spare bedrooms.

Grace left the box on the dining room table and went to the kitchen to get started on dinner, cooking a traditional British dinner of fish and chips. 

She tried not to freeze when she heard the chime of the lock on the door, the door gently shut, shoes kicked off and then placed on the shoe rack and a coat being hung up. There was the usual sigh of ‘Finally, I’m home’ and the usual greeting of:

“Jagiya, I’m home!”

She hid her grin and carried on making dinner, “Just in the kitchen. Something arrived for you today, I’ve left it on the dining room table.”

“I didn’t order anything,” Seokjin mused as he changed direction by spinning on his left foot and making his way over. 

There was a plain white box on the table with a green ribbon wrapped around it with his name on a little tag. It wasn’t his birthday since it was the middle of summer, it wasn’t Grace’s birthday since that had been and gone and it wasn’t their anniversary either. He hadn’t ordered anything though he had seen a nice painting of Jeju Island online that he knew he had to get for their bedroom. 

“Hmm,” he hummed as he pulled open the ribbon and then lifted the lid of the box. 

There was a mini fishing rod, way too small for an adult but just small enough for a child. Underneath it, he pulled out a baby onesie which read ‘NEW FISHING BUDDY - ARRIVES APRIL’ and while he was still trying to process that, he spotted the sonogram picture below with Grace’s name on it, her date of birth and where it had been taken. 

Seokjin was smart.

He graduated from a very hard to get into university and he had earned his degree while being a member of BTS. Not only that, he had completed his military career with top marks and learned traditional Korean alcohol, as well as design levels and games for MapleStory, was the King of Run!BTS and other things. 

 Yet his brain had completely shut down over what he was seeing in the box. 

It could only mean one thing. 

“Grace,” Seokjin started as he carried the onesie and sonogram towards the kitchen. 

He never called her that, often referring to her as Chu or her other nickname of Gigi or now Jagiya. Never did he call her Grace and that’s when she turned, trying to hide the built up emotions of nerves, worry, excitement and the big need to shout the news. 

“Yes, Seokjin?”

“Does this mean what I think it means?”

“Depends. What do you think it means?”

“You’re pregnant.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement. There was no hesitation around it and it was just a matter of fact that every single thing he had seen up to know that made him question a couple of things had confirmed what he already knew.

His girlfriend of over six years was pregnant with his future child. 

“I’m pregnant,” she confirmed.

There was a pause and for a brief moment of time, Grace thought that this was going to go downhill suddenly. But all of a sudden, Seokjin let out the biggest yelp she had ever heard and the next thing she knew, her face was pressed against his chest while he screamed, “I’m going to be a father!”

Finally, after months of wanting and waiting and wondering, the dream of extending the Kim/Chu household was about to become a reality. 

His fingers smoothed away the tears of relief from her cheeks and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, holding her there until he moved away to hold up his fist. An old tradition of theirs when they both confirmed what they were both feeling. 

“Bangtan baby?” he asked, giving his famous wink. 

Grace laughed and nodded, holding up her own fist and giving his a bump. “Bangtan baby.”

[bridenore]

HD fic recs : mpreg!draco (part 1)

Here are a few recs involving mpreg!Draco. This is part one of two and focuses on shorter fics (up to 30k). Listed in alphabetical order, as always.

And Hope Says, Perhaps Today by @thisbloodycat [10k]

It’s for the best, Draco keeps telling himself—over and over like an endless mantra. But self-deception has never been that high on his list of coping techniques.

Azkaban Redemption by Sita_Z [15k]

Post-war Azkaban has no dementors, but Trainee Auror Potter still feels as if it is sucking out his soul. He would leave, if not for a certain inmate who clearly needs his help. Harry Potter is about to become obsessed with Draco Malfoy again.

The Baby by @kikibluemay [5k]

It was supposed to be an easy affair, devoid of complications. Then Draco got pregnant.

Close To Ever After by oldenuf2nb / @dianacopland [15k]

When Harry Potter finds he’s been cursed, he withdraws from the world and prepares to die. But when have things ever gone the way Harry Potter planned?

Coming to Terms by RurouniHime / @thegertie [16k]

Of all the lives in all the world, Harry had to own this one.

Dissonance by BummedOutWriter [17k]

Draco met Harry’s eyes directly, and spoke to him for the first time in eleven months, “Avada…”

 The rest was muffled in trauma as Harry felt a familiar warmth of magic, a flash of emerald light descending rapidly as he squeezed his eyes shut, and braced for—

Or: In which Draco becomes a death eater, has a daughter, and tries to forget about her.

Heal Me Slow (Love Me Fast) by crazyparakiss  [11k]

Being a father had never been in the cards.

Here Comes the Sun by ad_libitum [5k]

He’s touching me the way he did that morning, with a reverence I didn’t deserve then but now couldn’t be more fitting: this child we’ve made cradled within me and between us, flesh, blood, and bone spun from our deepest, most desperate desires.

Hold Close Your Heart and Take the Leap by  @dracogotgame [19k]

Draco knows he needs to tell Potter their lives are about to change forever. But ‘knowing’ and ‘doing’ are two very different things.

“I’d Rather Change Nappies Than Have My Cock Sucked” and Other Ravings of a Pregnant Wizard by Frayach [23k]

Like everything else between Harry and Draco, pregnancy and child rearing are fraught with drama

If Wishes Were Children by oldenuf2nb / @dianacopland [14k]

Harry Potter has tried to move on with his life after Draco Malfoy walked away from him months before with little or no explanation, but it’s been hard. Then, on a joyous day at the Burrow, Narcissa Malfoy makes an unexpected appearance…

If You Miss It, Try Again by dodgerkedavra [23k]

The healers promised Draco he wouldn’t get pregnant a second time.

They were wrong.

And this time, he’s pregnant with his best friend and roommate Harry Potter’s baby.

Nine months is all he has to figure it out.

In a party bathroom by KatieScarlet [16k]

He hadn’t even wanted to go to the ridiculous party, let alone planned on shagging Potter in a port-a-john while he was there. But he did, and oh, what fun the consequences it brought were…

Jolene by @romaine2424 [21k]

Harry comes back from a mandatory holiday and finds that an Auror raid on his favourite establishment could expose his biggest secret.   However, another has even more secrets than he does at stake.

Jolene Deux by @romaine2424 [5k]

Draco makes special plans after being told by his Healer that he’s fully recovered from being pregnant and having given birth to his and Harry’s daughter, Violet.  I hope you enjoy this little glimpse into Harry’s and Draco’s future life together.  The story begins immediately after where Jolene ended.

Jump Into the Fog by taradiane [9k]          

Draco returns to Hogwarts for his eighth year carrying a secret that will change not just his life, but Harry’s as well.

Never the Same Again by dragon_charmer / Frances Potter [22k]

The war is over … in fact it never really got started because the Dark Lord proved to be the more powerful. Now five years after Dumbledore’s death, Draco Malfoy has something else to worry about besides being a spy.

‘Ohana by plumeria47 [11k]

It started off so simple: sex whenever they wanted it, with no further expectations.  But life has a funny way of turning everything up on its head.

On Truth and Understanding by @iero0  [21k]

“I questioned it,” Draco says, factual as though to convince himself. “I questioned everything I’ve been taught as a child.”

“To what decision did you come then? Do you want children?” Harry asks.

“It’s sometimes hard to know,“ Draco replies oddly quickly, "what one really wants.”

–

Draco doesn’t know how to say certain things. Harry doesn’t know how to ask for them. On a sultry summer’s night, they finally talk about past wounds, current problems, and the future options that will change their lives forever.

One Day’s Difference by @melcalder [10k]

Draco’s sacrifices his god-given body and has (mostly) no regrets.

Take What’s Left of Me by Frayach [22k]

One day Draco just left without saying a word, leaving Harry reeling.   You’d think that after what Draco did, Harry could move on, but he can’t.  When Astoria miscarries and Draco comes to him pleading for a baby, Harry can’t say no.

Unbroken by taradiane [18k]

Memories make us who we are. What happens when they disappear?

Where You Belong by @coffeejunkii [11k]

“Harry Potter” and “impossible” cancel one another out.

you’re alive by KatieScarlet / @kat-the-wren [27k]

The most boring shift in the world, filled with Muggle car ride games to pass the time, was interrupted by a tow-head boy begging for help to save his papa and ultimately changed Harry’s life from there on out.   For the better, of course.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[petrichorium]

Conversely to my previous post, I have another little thing to discuss. Pregnancy, childbirth, child rearing, and even just references to biological children can be very troubling to people. Societally, women are not just expected but outright forced into having children and having children is almost universally considered an end-goal with no choice in the matter, especially when it comes to romance. To those who do find joy in the idea it can be difficult to understand just how triggering these things are to some, but I implore you to look at this with compassion and understanding. This community is about wish fulfillment and escapism; for an enormous number of people, these are the very things they want to escape from.

For this reason I’d like to kindly remind everyone at large to tag their pregnancy & child rearing content so that it can be avoided when necessary. I would also like to kindly remind everyone to check blog rules when sending asks.

It is deeply importantly for me to emphasize that the hurt people feel when lashing out against pregnancy & child content really, fundamentally, has absolutely nothing to do with any individual making that content. It is coming from a far larger & deeper wound caused by the patriarchal society we live in. It doesn’t matter why a woman might make such a choice; that decision is, at every single moment of every day, by family members and friends and life partners and total strangers and every kind of media, constantly undermined, questioned, and dismissed.

Nobody wants to come on here and feel that feeling, too. Do not EVER assume that someone is comfortable with it. Do not EVER come into someone’s askbox to discuss something unless you are ONE HUNDRED PERCENT CERTAIN that they enjoy such topics. Especially do not FUCKING EVER bitch and moan and complain about someone writing something that makes them happy when the thing you want goes against their rules. If you didn’t like it, just stop fucking reading.

[picklesonjupiter]

On AO3, for @hp-yuletide-bliss

Severus knew better than to pester his parents for presents for Christmas. On Christmas morning, he never awoke to wrapped gifts under an evergreen tree or a stocking. Unlike at Lily’s home, his home was never decorated for the holidays. It was a hostile environment, devoid of holiday cheer.

They lived a frugal life, never going on unnecessary trips and never eating out. Their money was spent on food, second-hand clothes, and medical bills for his mum. (His father also spent a large amount of the money on booze.)

One luxury he enjoyed was the hot cocoa his mum bought from a diner. The food and the beverages weren’t spectacular, but spending the day with his mum without his father was enjoyable.

The diner was a regular haunt for them every Christmas Eve. Severus knew the owners as well as their children. Mrs Batley was a kind lady who often pointed out that Severus needed to eat more. In the end, she would bring out more food than they ordered and give it to them for free. Mr Batley once gifted him gloves and a scarf because he hadn’t worn any. The children were a few years younger than him, so he never grew too close to them. However, he did help one of them with their winter assignment.

Even after his mother's death, he returned every Christmas Eve. It was his way of honoring his mum.

That diner became special to Severus, and he refused to share it with anyone else, not even Lily. Therefore, for him to be visiting there with Potter was monumental.

At the behest of Dumbledore, Severus took custody of Harry Potter when the Dursleys died in a car accident. He wasn’t looking forward to looking after a spoiled child, but what arrived at his doorstep was a terrified little boy, looking no older than six when he was actually nine years old.

Potter refused to eat anything Severus offered him, only eating the leftovers and stealing crumbs when he thought Severus wasn't looking. Tired of trying to force the child to eat, Severus decided to take him to the one place where food felt like safety and home.

“Hello, Severus.” He was greeted with a kind smile as he entered the diner. "Who is this darling boy that you brought with you today?”

The boy crossed his arms defensively and hid behind his unruly hair.

“This is Harry. My new ward.” Severus guided Potter into his usual booth before ordering for them. “Two hot cocoas, my usual, and what would you like?” He looked at the boy, who was staring at him with wide, green eyes.

“Um, dunno. What’s good?” A famished look crossed his face.

“Just about everything my husband cooks is good, but just for you, I'll order the best. How do two eggs, sausages, and toast sound?”

The boy nodded his approval.

Mrs Batley went off to the kitchen.

“Thank you,” the boy mumbled.

“Why are you thanking me?” Severus asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I know I was a nuisance for not eating what you cooked. I don’t deserve to eat out, but here we are on Christmas Eve. You should be with your family or friends instead of taking care of a useless boy.”

Severus sighed.

As the Head of Slytherin, he dealt with children from less than ideal homes, but they were easier to deal with as he didn’t need to raise them. Teaching was bothersome enough, and now he had to worry about rearing Harry Potter, the boy revered throughout the British magical world.

“You have not inconvenienced me, Mr Potter. I come here every Christmas Eve. You may ask Mrs Batley if you do not believe me.”

“Oh,” the boy said, his cheeks flushing.

“Besides, if you will not or cannot eat the food I have prepared, I must accommodate you. You are in my charge now, and I refuse to neglect my duty.”

The misgiving lingering on Potter’s face dispersed, and as immense relief seemed to overwhelm him, he slumped in his seat.

Mrs Batley brought out the hot cocoas while they waited for their food. Potter’s face lit up in delight, as if tasting something sweet for the first time.

“It’s good. Never had it before.” Potter licked his lips, not squandering a single drop of the drink.

Severus grimaced at the boy’s lack of table manners. If Potter was to survive in the pure-blood society, then Severus would need to teach him. The journey would be long and arduous, but for now, all he had to worry about was feeding the boy.

When the food arrived, Potter waited for Severus to eat before he touched his own. He doused his food with syrup and ate a forkful of the food. Severus smirked when Potter went for a second bite of his food.

“Pace yourself. You don’t want to make yourself sick.”

Potter heeded his warning and savored his food carefully.

After they finished eating, they left the diner full and satisfied.

“Can we come back next Christmas Eve?” Green eyes glistened with hope.

His tradition with his mother now seemed to have become a tradition with Harry Potter.

“You’ll come with me every year.”

Potter grinned. The corners of Severus’ lips tugged upwards into a faint smile.

[hisunshiine]

—cures for idiosyncrasies | jjk

→ pairing: wai! jungkook x reader → genre/au: victorian era!au, pride&prejudice vibes, fluff → chapter rating: M → wordcount: 3.2k words → chapter warnings: mentions of the patriarchy and sexism women face, alcohol use, hangovers, cursing, patient attacking medical professionals, minor injuries, drowning in Jungkook’s eyes, kissing    → credits: @peachiilovesot7 I AM SO GRATEFUL FOR YOU, and @moonleeai​, you hype me up to the clouds! it makes me enjoy writing so much more because of the two of you and the feedback you provide. → an: I realized that in my world building, I did not adequately explain how debuting, courting, engagements, etc. work in the Whims & Inconsistencies series! Please enjoy this one shot featuring a side character, that touches base on this in a way that I hope is easy to understand but also is hidden within a fun one shot! → an2: This is part of the whims and inconsistencies series but can be read as a stand alone, though this chapter does contain a spoiler of chapter 6 of WAI and a lot more would make sense if you read this after chapter 6 (or 7) .

whims & inconsistencies: series masterlist   map of Sonyeondan taglist: @firesighgirl@jungshook7​ 

You’ve lived in Sonyeondan all your life. This quaint town with a citadel in the middle is all you’ve ever known, never having ventured north to the capitol, as women are not allowed to go for formal schooling. Exceptions have been made recently, sure, but not in the areas that you are interested in. Your father is a physician, well known in Sonyeondan and surrounding areas, as he serviced several other towns nearby. Growing up following his long coat and lambskin bag of medical supplies, your interests are in medicine. 

Unfortunately, women are ��too delicate and sensitive” to be in such occupations, so despite all of the knowledge you have gleaned over the years with your father, your choices in medicine are to be a midwife. Indeed, you did like babies and children, but you hate how limiting your options are. It feels like a waste to your intelligence to be stuck in one specific field of medicine, and for it to be looked down upon, as if child rearing in any capacity was delicate or sensitive. 

The patriarchy could suck bollocks for all you care, but you must abide by its rules nonetheless. Thankfully, you benefit from your father’s positioning within the hierarchy of professions, which means now that you have debuted into society, you’re able to have almost any man your heart desires, with a hefty dowry to the man who takes you into his family. 

Sitting at the table in the front room of your father’s clinic and apothecary, you check-in a man you know well. Park Jimin is lithe, with a lean frame and beautiful angles outlining his gorgeous face. He is best friends with Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook, who you know of pretty well. Taehyung and Jimin have been frequent flyers in the clinic more recently the past few months, often with a diagnosis from your father of a “two-penny hangover”. 

Lord knows the amount of alcohol the three consume could put the rest of the country to shame, and their behaviors that pair with it are best described as despicable. It wasn’t always that way, but ever since you heard that Lord Kim had fallen ill, Taehyung seemed to come around more often for tonics to cure his head ailments, dragging Jimin more often than not. 

Jeon Jungkook, the last of the scallywags, never dares show his face here when nursing his consequences from a night out, as he is the apprentice of your father. And what a handsome, muscular, infuriating apprentice he is. 

You’d instantly taken a dislike to Jungkook when you met him on his first day at the clinic almost a year ago. Proud and sarcastic, you hated the way he walked around as if he was so accomplished, when he was a novice in this world, your world, if the patriarchy would ever let you be more than a midwife or the secretary in your father’s business. 

With an exasperated sigh, you call Jimin over to you so that you can gather information for when he sees your father. Jimin is slow moving, but you can’t help but to eye his fluid motions, his body still spectacular despite his hangover.

“Could you possibly lower your voice, YN? My head aches fiercely.”

You roll your eyes as you hold the metal nib tightly in your hand, akin to clenching your fists. 

“I am but speaking in a normal volume, Park Jimin-ssi. Now, you should know this questionnaire by heart.”

“Indeed. Park Jimin. Twenty-six. Headache. Possibly from the amount of ales given to me at the tavern.”

“Wow, I’ve written this so many times over the past few months, if only I had access to a printing press to make copies so I no longer tire out my hand.”

Jimin laughs at your joke, despite it being at his expense, and you can’t help but smile at his good naturedness towards you taking the mick out on him.

“I’ll let my father know you are here, and get started on that tonic I am sure he will prescribe for you so you can get home and feeling better faster, okay?” Despite the reputation their gang has garnered over the last year or so, your interactions with Jimin never seem to line up fully with what you’ve been told. Nor Jungkook, but you push the thought out of your mind, not wanting to think about all you’ve gotten to know about the young, promising physician. 

“Thanks, YN, you are the woman of my dreams right now.”

You can’t hide the warmth that rises to your cheeks at his words, though you almost spill your small bottle of ink when you hear his friend's voice from behind you.

“Now, now, YN, shouldn’t you wait for your father to tell you what he needs? Wouldn’t want to go wasting any of the ingredients because of an assumption.”

“Hello to you too, Jungkook. I’m surprised you’ve made it in today. What with Jimin here as a patient, I would think you would be in a similar state hiding out from my father.”

He places his hands on the table you’re sitting at, leaning into your space with a wicked smile gracing his handsome face. You hate the way his proximity leaves your thighs rubbing together. You hate Jungkook. Why does he make you feel this way?

“YN, do you think so lowly of me?”

“Someone needs to—or else your hubris would take you aflight and carry you off to another town…actually maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Don’t deny it, you would miss me if I were to leave.” Jungkook brings himself impossibly closer, his lips almost brushing yours as he continues in a whisper, “I would surely miss you.”

You ache to pull him closer, part of you wanting nothing more than to punch that cute mole under his luscious bottom lip, and then kiss it better. He moves back suddenly, the patient slip for Jimin in his hand as he heads back through the door to deliver it to your waiting father.

“Why do you toy with YN so much?” Jimin’s head feels much better now that he has rested and drank the tonic he was given. “One would gather that you were interested in courting her.”

Jungkook leans his head back onto his mattress from where he sits on the floor, resting after work while Jimin sits cross-legged atop his bed.

“She is just fun to wind up, Jimin. Plus, she’s smart, she jokes back with me instead of running off in tears, and I quite enjoy the view.”

“And still, you evade my questions. YN debuted at the beginning of the season. She has yet to be engaged to anyone. Your family must be interested in you starting a family—mine sure is, and our mothers gossip far too often for you not to be feeling the pressure as well as I.”

Jungkook nods as best as he can from the angle his head is at.

“I mean, yes, they want me to settle down, start a family, everything that I am sure they pressure you to do. Unlike Taehyung, we are not the third child free to do what we please, when we please.” He closes his eyes briefly. “Courting YN wouldn’t be bad, but since she has already debuted, would she not be expecting an engagement soon after?”

Jimin hums slightly, running his fingers through his hair, effectively messing up his tresses in a good way.

“Yes, if you had courted her before she debuted into society, you would have had much more time to get to know her and see if you would be compatible in a relationship. However, with Lord Kim’s condition—may he rest in peace—we did not have much time to spend on women in a serious capacity.”

“Yes, being there for Taehyung, while I would not trade that for anything, did seem to negatively impact my ability to marry for love.”

“Always the lover, you are. It’s a wonder you’re still on the market,” Jimin teases, lacking malice. He was happy that his friend wanted to marry for love. Yes, Jimin may have bedded several women in his lifetime, but love and sex were not the same to him. Jungkook, however, could not separate the two, and had yet to lose himself to the pleasures of being buried to the hilt below a woman’s skirts.

Don’t get him wrong, he had been close plenty of times, and had buried himself in mouths a plenty, not nearly as innocent as his heart on his sleeve would suggest, but Jungkook often wondered why he was still on the market too. Probably because he harbored a crush on his mentor’s daughter, the beautiful woman who couldn’t stand him.

“Though I think you actually know her quite well despite having never courted, if not YN, then…couldn’t you just choose any woman who pleases your eyes and then, I don’t know, use the engagement period to get to know her?”

Jungkook frowns at Jimin from below him.

“And then if she’s a total dimwit? Or what if we just aren’t compatible at all?”

“I know it is not…ideal, to end an engagement, but it won’t hurt you as much as her. She’ll seem as if something is wrong with her, but in a few weeks all of the girls will be flocking to wed you.”

Jungkook rakes his fingers through his hair, not liking the odds. It also was quite unfair that everyone assumed a broken engagement meant something was wrong with the woman. When people break off courtships, no one cares, but as soon as you cross into engagement, that’s when the woman becomes damaged goods.

“Or, Jungkook, hear me out. You could possibly talk to YN’s father. I’m sure that he would love to have his apprentice as his son-in-law, train you right up to take over the family business and have YN by your side.”

Sighing, Jungkook folds his legs until he is able to rise up off the ground and flop onto his bed dramatically. It’s not that he hasn’t already thought of this. He’s spent a lot of time around you at work, and he thinks you're beautiful, intelligent, passionate, and funny. You have similar interests and if you didn’t hate him, Jungkook is sure you would be open to the idea.

“Yeah, Jimin, I’ll think about it,” he says, hoping to get Jimin off his back about it. “I’ll talk to her, see if there’s a chance.”

At home, you sit at the formal dining table with your parents for dinner. You had returned home before your father to help your mother with some sewing, and now the three of you dine and talk.

“YN, have you thought any more about men we could invite over? You’ve been out in society for some time now, and have yet to promenade or be courted by anyone for over a week. Why, that orphan was seen multiple times with Lord Kim Seokjin and she only just arrived back to town when you debuted. The men here have known you for ages.” Your mother clutches her porcelain cup in her dainty hands, sipping from it while she waits for your response.

“Exactly, Mother. We have seen each other grow up, witnessed each other's ugly years and embarrassing moments. I am probably no more attractive to them than they are to me.”

Your mother tsk’ed into her tea.

“Please, don’t be so dramatic, YN. What about that nice young man who works with your father?”

“Jungkook?”

“Jungkook?!”

You and your father both say his name with different tones. You with incredulity and your father with interest.

“Yes, the Jeon boy. He’s grown into his features, which are rather striking. I hear the way the women talk about him when he’s brought up in conversation. You two would make beautiful children.”

Groaning, you use your hands to hide your face. You do not expect the conversation to detour into Jungkook being a potential suitor.

“I—Jungkook and I—You see, I am not sure he and I would be a compatible match.”

The eyebrows on your father’s face furrow in confusion.

“Really, YN? I disagree. As my apprentice, he shows a lot of the same qualities I see in you. Why, if you were a boy, you would be just like him! It is a shame though, really. I wouldn’t need to train him to follow in my footsteps if that were the case, but imagine! If you were to marry, the business would stay in the family.”

“But Father, he’s so prideful, walks around like he’s so great and knows everything—”

“Yes, quite identical to my only child seated across from me.” His eyes twinkle in the light, full of mirth. “Don’t think I am so old that I don’t hear the way you show off your knowledge in front of him.”

“But Father!”

“I love you, YN. But your mother is right. You have now debuted into society and the dowry sits there, gathering dust in our coffers. And we may not be old, but we would like to have grandchildren some time before we are too tired to play with them—”

“Really, Father! You want to sell me off to the highest bidder so you can have grandchildren? Was I not enough of a handful for you?”

“Oh, darling, you still are a handful!” Your mother laughs, and your heart squeezes at the way your father looks at her, reaching for her hand across the table in joint laughter at their pride and joy: you. 

This is why you haven’t settled yet. You want a love like what your parents have, to create a home warm and inviting after a long day of dealing with the turmoil of this world, with strong arms to wrap around you and keep you safe. Strangely enough, in your mind when you picture it, those arms look strangely familiar: muscular and in a coat that hangs next to your father’s at the end of the work day.

It is to no one’s surprise when the Citadel’s homeless shelter sends word to your father’s clinic right at the end of the day that they need him to come help. Coughing, sick children fill their rooms, and they insist a physician is needed so that people can sleep through the night. 

You are about to leave to meet with your mom, leaving Jungkook to close up when said apprentice comes to you slightly panicked. He looks good as ever, hair pulled back in a short ponytail. It makes him look much more serious, respectable as a physician, and better allows you to see his eyes: doe-like and filled with warm fire-like embers. 

“Your father has been called away to the Citadel shelter and there is a man at the back door. He’s raving mad, and I can’t get him to make any sense to help him.”

You stare, a little shock running through you that his pride allows him to come to you for help, but then you’re moving to help, feet on autopilot.

“Let me see if I recognize him.”

Following Jungkook down the hall, you step into the room behind him, smelling the man in question before you see him. He doesn’t look familiar, with greying hair and more rotund then you expect him to be. Typically someone who cannot afford to dress well cannot afford to eat well either. He sits on the medical exam table your father built, and even in this position you can tell that he is tall. 

“Sir? Can you please tell me what brought you in this evening?”

“That dumb cunt, the audacity to mess with me things, grubby paws stealing me money.” He continues to ramble on in a gritty voice, clearly agitated. His hands gesticulate wildly as his mouth moves, volume dropping in and out. 

You step around Jungkook despite him reaching out for you, his hands grazing your waist. You regret leaving the safety he provides, but the man doesn’t seem to register that anyone has returned to the room. You approach him slowly, arms open and down by your side to show you aren’t a threat to him.

“Sir? We want to help you, but we need to know what’s wrong. Are you injured anywhere?” 

His eyes snap towards you with a quickness that startles you into stepping backwards. It’s not fast enough, and the man lunges for you, hands grabbing your throat.

“Cunt stole all me money! Give it back!”

It’s hard to breathe and your heart feels as if it’s trying to escape your chest. You fight back against his hold, arms scrambling against his fingers where they meet your neck, but your vision goes spotty, darkness on the edges creeping in. You hear loud noises, a voice yelling as air rushes into your lungs. You gasp, seeking oxygen to clear the fog that formed in your brain in the panic. Blinking several times, you take in the sight of Jungkook pinning the man to the ground safely. The man lays prone on the floor, Jungkook’s thighs on either side of him while he uses one hand to hold the man's wrists behind his back.

He doesn’t struggle, in fact, he lays still, muttering under his breath. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls quickly, his hair falling loose to frame his face from the hair band that he had used to tie it back. Letting the rest of his hair fall free to join the other strands, he uses the tie to bind the man’s hands behind his back. Testing the man’s movements, Jungkook slowly releases his wrists and the man just lays there, lost in his own world again. Jungkook looks to where you lean against the wall, those fiery, ember eyes wide and searching, sending a heat across your skin as he moves across the ground towards you and asserts that you are okay.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he would become volatile when he saw you, I shouldn’t have put you in danger…your father will never forgive me.” His voice is a low whisper, so as not to disturb the raving man, and once he reaches you, he kneels and sits back on his heels. Hands reach for your face, holding you gingerly as he turns you this way and that, making sure you have full range of motion without any pain.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. Thank you for saving me.”

Your eyes lock with his, and for a moment neither of you say anything. His thumbs still, resting on your cheeks as his large hands cup your face. “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you, YN.”

He moves in the time it takes for you to blink, eyes shutting as his lips press delicately to yours. You breathe him in, moving closer as if an invisible thread was being pulled to decrease the space between you until there isn’t one. His tongue flicks against your closed lips, and you separate them, allowing him to taste you. Deepening the kiss, you let out a soft moan, one that brings Jungkook back to the present. He pulls away from you slowly, as if he doesn’t want to, but there’s a senile man in the room with you and while you both appear pleased with this turn of events, you know that it’s neither the time nor the place for it.

whims and inconsistencies series masterlist —thank you for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated!! please let me know what you think of this story!

© hisunshiine 2022. All rights reserved.

[ibrithir-was-here]

@windsweptinred Another AU Drabble! This time for the old Children of the Endless AU. I know you’ve a soft spot for Destiny so I hope you enjoy this Drabble featuring him!

——————

“Please I beg you!”

The woman who until now had stood so proud, so strong, throughout the tense encounter, now at last fell at Destiny's feet; hard gray eyes softened by the sheen of tears, red hair tumbling out before her like a war banner, fallen to the dirt in defeat.

"My lord, I know the truth of what you are, the truth of your kin, the sires of cursed and accursed Helen and Paris. Lord Apollo's doom upon me has granted this clarity. But your knowledge is greater than the cunning of the Achaens, your power more potent than that of the gods on Olympus. Surely, most surely you can grant this one boon, that at least one man might heed my warnings?"

Destiny's unseeing eyes stared out over the battlements whereon the pair stood, the light of the dawn was choked and gray, struggling through the smoke that rose up from the battlefield surrounding the walls on all sides.

"Mercy is not the province of Destiny, Cassandra"

His voice, to the protastrated woman, sounded as cold and hard as the stones she knelt on, body trembling with both creeping despair and curdling rage.

"It was written in the Book of Destiny that all these things should be so, and they cannot be unwritten"

Cassandra reared up at this, rage overcoming caution as she raised her eyes once more to gaze on this being she had summoned, this being she knew in her more rational mind deserved naught but deference and respect, at least a greater doom then the one she already carried befall her.

For here was one greater than Lord Apollo, then Lord Zeus himself, one who could truly smite her not only from life but all existence if crossed.

She found, alas, she did not care.

"It is written that great Troy, envy of the living world, be razed until not a stone of it is left to us to weep over, for the beauty that was lost and shall never be again?!"

She climbed to her feet as she spoke, words ringing out in the cold dawn, her red hair flying up in the cold wind, torch like in the heat of her passion.

"That my people shall be scattered and set upon like sheep abandoned and left to the ravenings of wolves??"

To Cassandra's distress, the flames of her anger began to flicker under the rising wave of her grief, and the tears that had until now shimmered behind her eyes now at last began to fall, and she thrust forward with the last vestiges of her anger, fists raised to shake a curse at the sky, as gray and implacable as the being before her.

"That my brothers, brave and true and flawed and foolish should all to a man fall and be forgotten?!"

Her grief at last smothered her flame, and despair gripped her as she dropped her head to her hand, knees sinking once more to the ground as she choked out:

"And that I should have the power to foresee it all, and yet be powerless to prevent it?"

Destiny stood over the princess’ shaking form, as silent tears fell from her hidden eyes, looking upon her in a silence that seemed infinite even to himself.

When at last he spoke, there was smallest shift of softness in his tone, so minute that it would have taken another Endless to note it, and so profound a change within their oldest brother would have shaken any one of them.

"What is written cannot be unwritten Cassandra" He repeated, "You, Paris, Helen. All are children of the Endless. In each of you there is an echo of your sire, one that will always ring true, though you struggle against it. Helen draws the Desire of all who look upon her, whether she wills it or not. Paris leads himself and all who surround him to Destruction, whether he seeks it or not.”

And here Destiny stepped forward, only a single step, the first he had taken since Cassandra had summoned him, but it was to any else who could have witnessed it as if an immovable mountain had stooped down to touch the cheek of a crying child.

"And you, Cassandra, last daughter of Troy, daughter of Destiny, you must bear witness to the end of all and all those you most love…"

The dawn finally broke over the city, casting the shadows of Destiny and his doomed daughter across the ramparts like a pair of shrouds.

"Whether we wish it or not"

[dwellordream]

“The instruction of girls was not meant to prepare them to take part in political life. Women were not citizens on par with men in the new United States. Except in New Jersey, they could not vote or hold public office. In most ways the establishment of a republic had left women’s political status unchanged. But in a few subtle areas, progress was made. Women’s work as mothers assumed greater purpose. Mothers were largely responsible for the early education of their children. They could rear either strong, virtuous children who would become valuable citizens or lazy, ignorant youngsters who could be corrupted easily and thus become undesirable members of society.

…For women to do their job properly, they needed to possess high moral standards. They could learn these standards best if they were educated and religious. Ideally, all women should be able to read, write, keep accounts, and think logically about current issues. They were also expected to attend church and heed the moral directions of their ministers. The middle and upper ranks of American society had even higher standards for women’s education by the end of the 18th century. Among wealthy women, poor reading, writing, and speaking skills became unacceptable. Elite men wanted their daughters to receive an education similar to that of their college-bound sons.

…The curriculum of female academies focused a great deal on subjects previously considered frills: rhetoric, grammar, geography, history, arithmetic, and oratory. Now the areas of study that once had been thought essential for elite women--music, dancing, and needlework--were regarded as recreational activities or not taught at all. Although many girls continued to study these subjects and to receive praise for doing so, intellectual development was regarded as equally or more important.

…Soon boarding schools for girls also opened. They appeared in rural areas as well as towns and answered a need for families who did not have relatives living in a northeastern city. One of the most successful was the Moravian Seminary in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, which had a reputation for strictly supervising the morals of its students while providing an advanced curriculum. …Parents were particularly concerned that their daughters receive moral instruction at boarding schools, where girls lived for extended periods of time. At the Moravian Seminary, for example, students stayed for a maximum of about three years, beginning when they were as young as 10 or 12 years old.

…When mothers wrote to their daughters at school, they frequently stressed the importance of diligence and urged their daughters not to waste their time. In turn, many girls recognized that they had been given a privilege their mothers had not enjoyed, and that their absence from home represented considerable maternal sacrifice. After all, during these years they could be of greatest help to their mothers in running their households. For some families, doing without a teenage daughter’s labor must have been as difficult as paying for the cost of her higher education.

…Although girls strove for academic excellence, they had nowhere to employ their education after graduation. Colleges were closed to women during this era, and so were the professions. Women might become skilled healers, but they could not attend medical school and become licensed physicians. They might offer religious instruction in their homes, but they could not serve as ministers for any congregations, except those of the Quakers. They might run successful businesses as single women, but when they married, the law demanded that they have their husbands’ permission to continue working outside the home.

…Under the laws of England as enforced in the United States, married women could not own property in their own name without special (and rare) contracts called marriage settlements. Everything a woman brought to marriage became her husband’s. Movable goods became her husband’s absolutely, and a man could sell or give away his wife’s movables at will. Men’s control over women’s real estate was restricted, however. A husband could not mortgage or sell his wife’s land unless the woman consented and signed deeds stating she did so of her own free will. But during marriage, a man could manage his wife’s real estate and take all the rents and profits for his own use.

…After the Revolution, all the new states made divorces easier to obtain. Some legislatures voted to allow both formal separations with property divisions, and absolute divorces that permitted remarriage. Others provided only for separations. But everywhere it was acknowledged that women and men needed legal recourse for disastrous marriages. …Freedom from English law allowed Americans to institute reforms in marriage that England adopted only in the 20th century. Both women and men benefitted from the new laws, which acknowledged male as well as female adultery and prohibited physical cruelty. American lawmakers congratulated themselves on their liberality to the female sex, but the courts still favored men. They routinely demanded more evidence of men’s wrongdoing than women’s and automatically gave men custody of their children.”

- Marylynn Salmon, “Independence Realized: New Directions for American Women.” in The Limits of Independence: American Women, 1760-1800

[dailyanarchistposts]

Chapter 5. Crime

What’s to stop someone from killing people?

Much violent crime can be traced back to cultural factors. Violent crime, such as murder, would probably decrease dramatically in an anarchist society because most of its causes — poverty, televised glorification of violence, prisons and police, warfare, sexism, and the normalization of individualistic and anti-social behaviors — would disappear or decrease.

The differences between two Zapotec communities illustrates that peace is a choice. The Zapotec are a sedentary agrarian indigenous nation living on land that is now claimed by the state of Mexico. One Zapotec community, La Paz, has a yearly homicide rate of 3.4/100,000. A neighboring Zapotec community has the much higher homicide rate of 18.1/100,000. What social attributes go along with the more peaceful way of life? Unlike their more violent neighbors, the La Paz Zapotec do not beat children; accordingly, children see less violence and use less violence in their play. Similarly, wife-beating is rare and not considered acceptable; women are considered equal to men, and enjoy an autonomous economic activity that is important to the life of the community so they are not dependent on men. Regarding child-rearing, the implications of this particular comparison are corroborated by at least one cross-cultural study on socialization, which found that warm, affectionate socialization techniques correlate with low levels of conflict in society.[79]

The Semai and the Norwegians were both previously mentioned as societies with low homicide rates. Until colonialism, the Semai were stateless, whereas Norway is ruled by a government. Socialization is relatively peaceful among the Semai and the Norwegians alike. The Semai use a gift economy so wealth is evenly distributed, while Norway has one of the lowest wealth gaps of any capitalist country on account of its socialistic domestic policies. A further similarity is a reliance on mediation rather than punishment, police, or prisons to solve disputes. Norway does have police and a prison system, but compared with most states there is a high reliance on conflict mediation mechanisms not unlike those that flourish in peaceful, stateless societies. Most civil disputes in Norway must be brought before mediators before they can be taken to court, and thousands of criminal cases are taken to mediators as well. In 2001, agreement was reached in 89% of the mediations.[80]

So in an anarchist society, violent crime would be less common. But when it did occur, would society be more vulnerable? After all, one might argue, even when violence is no longer a rational social response, psychopathic killers might still occasionally appear. Let it suffice to say that any society capable of overthrowing a government would hardly be at the mercy of lone psychopathic killers. And societies that do not come about from a revolution but enjoy a strong sense of community and solidarity are capable of protecting themselves as well. The Inuit, hunter-gatherers indigenous to the arctic regions of North America, provide an example of what a stateless society can do in the worst-case scenario. According to their traditions, if a person committed a murder, the community would forgive him and make him reconcile with the family of the victim. If that person commits another murder, he would be killed — usually by members of his own family group, so there would be no bad blood or cause for feud.

The state’s punitive methods for dealing with crime make things worse, not better. The restorative methods for responding to social harm that are used in many stateless societies open new possibilities for escaping the cycles of abuse, punishment, and harm that are all too familiar to many of us.

[experiment31e]

Do y'all like stories about a girlboss mad scientist who has autism and social anxiety and likes committing acts of hubris?

Do y'all like creepy atmospheric podcasts that sound old-timey and from an alternate timeline?

Do y’all like Frankenstein but wish it had a lot more LGBTQ+ characters and a cat?

Have we got a podcast for you!

Experiment 31E is a new(ish) podcast. Season one wrapped in April, and all twelve episodes are available to binge now.

What’s it about?

Experiment 31E is a Frankenstein-inspired, speculative fiction podcast set during an alternate version of the Victorian era that follows the recorded notes of a scientist who is performing a dangerous experiment. As she seeks to perfect her formula and find a suitable specimen for testing, unexpected threats rear their heads while her own motives lurk in the dark.

Now, you might be wondering a few things:

First—how alternate is this version of the Victorian era? Well, some things are the same, some things are different. This story takes place in an alternate timeline, and the differences in the timeline will become more prominent as the story progresses.

Second—is this sci-fi? Fantasy? Horror? It’s a bit of all of them, actually. We use the broad genre label “speculative fiction” because this story features elements from science fiction, fantasy, horror, alternate history, and a smidge of steampunk. There are strange inventions but also alchemy and magic. It is not scary or gory, but it has a sinister air to it. It explores issues of identity, ethics, and mortality, not shying away from the darker aspects of humanity. There are moments of levity, but this is a story where the main character is experimenting on corpses, so it’s not exactly a tale for children.

Third—so…is this just a retelling of Frankenstein? Nope! The bones of this story owe a lot to Mary Shelley’s novel in that it features a scientist trying to reanimate dead matter (there’s also a…let’s say secondary meaning to “Frankenstein-inspired” that you will discover later in season one). But this isn’t just Frankenstein in the Victorian era with a female protagonist. While there will be some similarities (and allusions), this is not the same story.

Who are the characters?

This is a story with a single narrator, a bit like the early days of Welcome to Night Vale. However, there are several secondary characters vital to the plot.

Victoria “Vic” Corvino Trafford, aka The Scientist: The morally gray protagonist and narrator, Vic is an American who inherited a manor belonging to her late father’s family in England. She has been living there for two years at the start of the story. She’s autistic, asexual, gender nonconforming, and most importantly, a James Clark Ross fangirl. She enjoys tinkering in her laboratory, avoiding people, and trying to resurrect the dead. Vic believes in science, not magic, but is willing to give anything a try for her experiment. She is also quite handy with a knife.

John, aka The Boy: John is a stoker from Manchester who used to work in the cotton mills but now works as Vic’s assistant. He’s the Igor to her Frankenstein, the Smithers to her Mr. Burns. He’s assisted her for the two years she has been in England, but she still calls him The Boy. He’s a bit of a yes-man, but there’s more to him than first meets the eye.

Solomon and Rahul: Partners in business and in life, Solomon and Rahul are a perfect balance to each other. Sol can get a bit too hyper-focused, while Rahul is a tad chaotic, but together they equal 1 Functional Person. They run a jewelry store in Manchester—which is actually a front for their alchemy shop in the back room. They are some of the few people Vic trusts enough to tell about her experiment.

Herman: Herman is The Worstᵀᴹ. He’s a resurrectionist, aka a body-snatcher. He digs up fresh corpses and sells them to Vic for her experiments. Vic hates him, but he’s a necessary evil for her purposes.

Vic’s Mother: Vic’s mother is dead, but her influence on her daughter’s life still resonates. Vic’s mother was a scientist herself, and she used to tell Vic fantastical stories about impossible things that inspired Vic’s inventions.

Lydia: The overseer of Vic’s estate back in America. She was once friends with Vic’s mother before working for the household. She’s highly reliable and knows all the family secrets.

Lady Carmichael: An old friend of Vic’s father. She writes letters to Vic and invites her to a ball. Vic would rather eat coal than attend.

Stove: A cat.

Who made this?

Experiment 31E is an independent podcast written, performed, and edited by Lauren Triola. This is her first time making a podcast, so admittedly there was a learning curve when it comes to voice acting and sound editing, but she’s been writing stories for as long as she can remember. Lauren is autistic and asexual, just like the protagonist, and she has a complicated relationship with gender that inspired Vic being gender nonconforming. Lauren is also a bit of a history nerd—people obsessed with the Franklin Expedition might be familiar with her series of blog posts about John Torrington. Most of the music featured in the podcast was written by Lauren’s sister, Shannon, while a few of the simpler themes were written by Lauren. Lauren also runs all the social media sites and is writing this post (hi!).

Who is this for?

Excellent question!

Obviously, fans of Frankenstein will probably enjoy this story, as will people who enjoy retellings or remixes of Frankenstein, like Mackenzi Lee’s This Monstrous Thing. If you love the character Jack from Seanan McGuire’s Wayward Children series then you will most likely love Vic as well, since she is very similar to Jack—as in I-did-not-realize-how-similar-until-it-was-too-late-Seanan-please-don’t-sue similar (basically they’re both a combination of queer/neurodivergent with mad scientist, so if that’s your very specific trope, you’ll love it).

If you participate in Tumblr’s annual book club of Dracula Daily, or listen to the podcast @re-dracula, then you’ll probably enjoy Experiment 31E too. It’s got a classical literature horror feel to it, with an eerie atmospheric sound.

Fans of AMC’s The Terror may enjoy the mix of speculative fiction and history. There are plenty of historical Easter eggs in this podcast—including some references to polar exploration and the Franklin Expedition. While this story takes place a couple years before the expedition, the writer of this podcast is quite obsessed with Franklin and Co., so expect mentions of some crew members to pop up here and there.

If you enjoy Mike Flanagan’s horror-with-feelings style of writing, like Midnight Mass or Haunting of Hill House, then you might enjoy this too. Experiment 31E isn’t straight up horror like the shows in the Flanaverse, but it’s got some philosophical musings on life and death that wouldn’t be out of place in Flanagan’s work.

All in all, this is a story for anyone who likes creepy things. It’s for anyone who likes protagonists who aren’t completely good or evil but fall somewhere in between. It’s for anyone who has ever felt different or been told that there is something wrong with them. Most importantly, it’s for anyone who wants to hear a mad scientist cackle as they defy the laws of nature and bring something unholy back from the dead.

So give it a listen!

Thanks for reading this far! We hope you give Experiment 31E a try! Check out our trailer for season one below:

[mandsleanan]

Article text under cut.

Elizabeth Johnson and her husband hit the vacation circuit hard over the past couple of years.

They went boating in Florida, hiking in the Swiss Alps, snorkeling in Hawaii, waterfall exploring in Oregon, and leaf peeping in Canada. They saw moose and orcas in Alaska, manatees in the Dominican Republic, and sheep in the Irish countryside.

"We also volunteer at a local food bank each month, go to comedy shows at Mall of America, routinely go to concerts," she said.

Neither Johnson nor her husband grew up wealthy, and the couple never expected to have such an indulgent lifestyle. Johnson's husband, in particular, faced "a very bleak outlook" for his career when he graduated from college in 2008 at the height of the Great Recession.

But now, 16 years later, the 30-something couple make a generous joint income of just under $300,000. That income, their hard work, and a dash of savvy investing are largely responsible for the lifestyle they lead — but there's another big factor. The Johnsons are DINKS, a dual-income couple with no kids.

The costs of rearing a child have skyrocketed in recent years, especially as parents get less help from their families and communities. Raising a kid could cost parents upward of $26,000 this year. Being a DINK has always been a way to save money, but as the stigma around the choice to be child-free has faded, more and more Americans see being a DINK as the key to a new American dream of financial stability, freedom of choice, and a comfortable retirement. DINKs are proudly emerging as an aspirational class for young people — and they're ready to live it up.

Lifestyles of the DINKs and the child-free

Johnson's Tinder profile set her on her path to DINKhood. In early adulthood, she never felt the desire to have children but wanted to keep an open mind. As the years went on, even as she saw her peers having kids, she said her "beliefs just never changed and completely solidified." So when she set up her dating profile, Johnson included in her bio that she didn't want to have kids of her own.

"I just wanted to weed out the ones I wouldn't be compatible with," she said. It worked. Johnson recalled that on their second or third date, she and her now-husband discussed the topic to make sure they were on the same page. The pair married in 2022, and Johnson said their decision to live as DINKs had been enriching.

"It makes my life more meaningful," the occupational therapist said of her choice to be child-free. "I feel like I can give more to my patients at work. I have more time to see my loved ones and family."

Beyond the emotional value Johnson ascribes to her DINK status, there are the dollars-and-cents benefits to the lifestyle. Her husband, who works in banking, is "a very big spreadsheet guy," Johnson said, and the couple track their finances "religiously." Part of that maniacal focus is tracking their net worth. The latest tally? About $1.1 million, a combination of the equity they've been able to accumulate in their new-build, suburban Minneapolis townhome and their retirement accounts.

It makes my life more meaningful. I feel like I can give more to my patients at work. I have more time to see my loved ones and family.

As an occupational therapist who works with older people, Johnson said, she sees "one of the biggest downsides to being a DINK is not having your children there to support you and help you age in place as you get older." So in addition to enjoying travel now, it's important for the couple to have "the financial resources in place to support safe living when we're old," she said.

For many adults, having children holds a massive amount of intrinsic value, but there's no denying that those who choose to forgo parenthood gain a serious financial edge. In fact, the net-worth data from the Federal Reserve's most recent Survey of Consumer Finances showed there's never been a better time to be a DINK. Child-free couples' median net worth of $399,000 in 2022 was the highest of all types of family structures studied by the survey and almost $150,000 more than couples with kids. The median net worth of DINKs was also more than $100,000 higher than it was in 2019, and the gap between child-free couples and couples with kids has only widened as prices on items and services parents need most, such as childcare and food, have spiked.

Amy Blackstone, the author of the 2019 book "Childfree by Choice," said that the financial gap between DINKs and couples with kids wasn't solely because of the choice about children. In many cases, it's also a bit of selection bias.

"It's the people who already have higher incomes, higher education, and are generally more privileged who opt out of parenthood," she said.

Still, DINKs like the Johnsons demonstrate that as the American dream of homeownership and putting kids through college gets further out of reach, forgoing children is one way to achieve the upward economic mobility that many parents find more difficult to reach. Child-free couples have more free cash flow that can be invested in real estate or stocks. And while the pandemic's fiscal stimulus left pretty much everyone with more cash, DINKs seemed to emerge victorious in the battle to grow wealth. After a few years of saving, the Johnsons are free of student debt and said they're in a financial position to start planning for an early retirement in their 50s.

"I am from a middle-class family, and my husband from a lower-class upbringing," Johnson said. "He experienced paycheck-to-paycheck living, started his first job at age 11 delivering newspapers. We feel very fortunate for our current economic stability."

Of course, not all DINKs are raking in six-figure incomes and investing in real estate. Alex Killingsworth is a 25-year-old entrepreneur building a content-writing business, and his wife is a full-time graduate student. She makes $14,000 a year as a teaching assistant, while his business earned them $84,000 in 2023. Not having kids has allowed them to invest in his startup and her higher education, both of which they believe will pay off.

"I'm 'investing' in the work I'm doing," Killingsworth said. "Likewise for my wife, almost all of her income is going into research, so our actual take-home pay is quite a bit lower."

If they had kids, paying the bills could be tougher for them. Instead, they're buying wine and whiskey, maxing out a retirement account, and taking advantage of the freedom to spend Thanksgiving in Alaska, visit family in Texas, or go to Broadway shows in New York.

"I don't know if we have any hacks or tricks here, but I have been told all of the extra income has a tendency to dry up when you have kids," Killingsworth said. "I don't know if that's true, but it's better to overprepare than under, right?"

Growing acceptance

The financial upsides of being a DINK used to come with a cost: In 1974, a substitute teacher named Marcia Drut-Davis was fired from her job and received death threats after discussing her choice to be child-free on"60 Minutes."When another school asked her to give a speech on her decision, angry parents carrying signs calling her "the devil's sister" crowded the entrance, and the teacher who provided closing remarks after the speech denounced her in front of the auditorium.

In her 2013 book, "Confessions of a Childfree Woman," Drut-Davis recalls the teacher saying: "How will you feel when you're old and alone with no one to take care of you?How will you feel without a grandchild to give you chocolate kisses? You're a sad excuse for a woman."

For decades, the social stigma around choosing not to have children has been substantial, but Blackstone said that she'd noticed a major shift in acceptance since she began research for her book in 2008.

"I would say that it's millennials and Gen Z who have really done the heavy lifting in terms of bringing this conversation out into the open," she said.

That's not to say Gen X didn't contribute to the conversation — Blackstone is a child-free Xer — but she said the younger generations' experiences with the 2008 financial crisis, accelerated climate crisis, and increasingly divisive politics made the choice to forgo kids more acceptable to a wider group.

One 2022 Nature paper from the researchers Zachary P. Neal and Jennifer Watling Neal found that nearly half the adults they studied were parents and 22% were child-free by choice. The rest were ambivalent, undecided, unable to have kids, or planning to have them. In the 2020 US census, 87 million Americans were between the ages of 20 and 46. If you apply the findings from the Neals' study, that means roughly 19 million millennial and Gen Z adults of childbearing age were child-free by choice. That same research, which polled 1,500 Michigan adults, found that while parents felt warmer toward fellow parents, "both parents and child-free people feel about the same toward child-free people." The report concluded: "Although parents really like other parents, they don't dislike child-free people."

Sentiment actually seems to be shifting in the opposite direction: In a summer 2022 Harris Poll of 1,054 American adults, 20% of all adults — and 27% of millennials — agreed "that people should stop having children because of the harm it causes," specifically the harm to the environment, animals, and even other people. Similarly, about one-third of all adults — and over 40% of millennials — said that they agreed "people should stop having children because their children's quality of life will be poor."

And then there's social media and our identity-obsessed culture. Child-free people now have more and more platforms to connect with each other and flaunt their no-kids lifestyles of extensive travel, impeccable homes, and spoiled pets. The communities devoted to a child-free lifestyle are booming: The subreddit r/childfree, focused on "topics and links of interest to childfree individuals," boasts 1.5 million members. TikTok videos about DINKs rack up millions of views and hundreds of thousands of likes. DINKs, GINKs, "rich aunties," and DINKWADs — DINKs with a dog — have become aspirational identities for younger generations.

We hang out with other people's kids every once in a while, but then we happily just give them back to their parents.

Stigma against DINKS certainly remains — just look at the comments of "selfish" and "missing out" on child-free TikTok videos. But they're overshadowed by comments of support. As Blackstone, who wrote the 2021 book on the topic, said, what happened to Drut-Davis wouldn't happen today.

"I've gotten the random email telling me that I'm miserable and going to die alone or that I'm right, I shouldn't have kids anyway," she said. "But nothing like what Marcia got in the 1970s."

With the rise in childcare costs, education, and other parenting expenses that have outpaced inflation, it's hard to deny that a two-track economy has emerged. There are the DINKs who can seize the American dream and the parents who are struggling to stay afloat in a country without guaranteed paid leave or affordable childcare. It's no wonder that so many people are suddenly interested in becoming a DINK.

Johnson said that her DINK lifestyle kept her plenty busy. She invests time in her hobby of landscape photography, and though she's questioned whether it's a selfish choice, she overall feels more "well rounded and healthier" than she would if she had kids, she said.

"We hang out with other people's kids every once in a while," she said, "but then we happily just give them back to their parents."

[saltsacc]

"The Weight of Stones"

Part 1

“What the hell were you thinking?!” 

I had spent many hours of my life under the authoritative hand of Jake Sully, or rather,

Olo’ Eyktan 

As a promising warrior I had many moments of recognition by the clan leader. I could even say I was over utilized for my skill set. I was young however, and I’d received plenty of reprimands-- some less earned than others. 

This was, unfortunately, one of those times. 

I spied a pouting Lo’ak being ushered by his stiffly infuriated brother, Neteyam.

Sully’s children.

“You had one job!” A band of ire filled my chest like hot rocks. Sully had inched his face into mine threateningly, baring teeth and anger. “To protect them! To keep them flying!” I had once respected this man. I had looked to him and his mate when my parents died, looked for guidance when it became clear I would become a better warrior than weaver. Neytiri had taught me to draw a bow herself, and I had inadvertently learned the easy brutality that came hand in hand with being hunter from her. Less so had I leaned on Jake, uncomfortable with his leader presence-but there had been times. Eywa, I grew up with his children-only being less than a year older than Neteyam. 

“Olo’ Eyktan, with all due respect, I did. I warned Lo’ak, and followed when he did not listen.” Jake let out a huffy laugh, unconcerned in my excuse. 

“And they almost got blown up.” For years, I had suffered the indignity of being the babysitter of adolescent behavior, adolescents almost my age. Normally, I could stand to be persecuted-blaming me for the almost deaths of your children? 

Unacceptable. 

“And they would have died if I had not followed.” Jake was too heated to notice his mate had made her way to watch the spectacle, still coated in her war paint but sporting a concerted expression. She did not like her mate upset. 

Too bad that seemed his whole personality. 

 I could feel my hands clench at my sides as he rounded on me again.

“They should not have been there!” He was close enough that flecks of saliva hit my cheek. Just a small dap of wetness in a slew of violently said words, disguised as a learning moment. 

And it was something so small, so insignificant, that set me off. 

I let a hand raise and wipe the fleck from my cheek, laughing condescendingly, before meeting the furious eyes of Jake Sully. 

“Then perhaps you should have been there.” He was still close enough to me to see each and every individual golden scale in those angry eyes, pupils pinpricks. “You will not be happy until I die for your children.” 

Ironic, considering.

He reared back, thankfully, and I breathed a quiet sigh at having my space back. I did not enjoy, however, the hand that snatched my bicep and jostled me. 

Right next to the shrapnel. 

A high hiss left my mouth, and I yanked my arm from his grasp. Black spots appeared and quickly dissipated from my vision at the pain. Painful, but short lived. 

“Ma Jake, she is injured. She does not know what she says.” Neytiri.

Always acting as his better half. 

You’re wrong though.

Jake looked at his hand, palm coated in a hefty amount of red blood. The open disbelief was nice, but the pain made me unable to mask the disgust I felt for the man in front of me. 

“Everyone is so afraid of you…” The pain subsided from that awful slicing-- to a more manageable ache. I could only laugh meanly. 

I am no coward.

“…Your children are fools. I am not their caretaker; I am not their sister…” I felt a sneer build, mean and hot and angry. “I will not take responsibility for the harm they do.” I wanted to spit on him.

“I will not die for them.”

I don’t know when Jake Sully lost my respect, but I felt nothing when he ground his jaw and stood to his full height. I was tired and hurt, for mistakes that weren’t my own. 

“Listen- “ 

I walked away. 

I heard a hiss, more violent than I’d ever heard within the confines of High Camp. 

“You speak to Olo’ Eyktan, do not walk away!” Neytiri.

“HEY!” Jake. 

I did not care. I continued onward, past the avatar camp, past Mo’at’s tent, past the Sully children who called my name. I just wanted to sleep. 

The climb to my tent was hard. Most wounded individuals stayed with Mo’at within her healing confines, but the stench of Sully was everywhere. Years ago I had refused to stay among the other orphans, many of them being much younger than me-- and with living relatives. Uncomfortable with the close proximity of others, I carved out a home in an uppermost alcove. It was a short climb, but it afforded me a privacy of which many na’vi did not have at High Camp. 

A soft screech drifted by and for the first time today, I smiled. 

It was also very close to the ikran. 

“Hello Zasza.” There is a myth that na’vi begin to look like their ikran, and that is where painting a warrior comes from-- Because it is supposedly hard to tell the difference between rider and mount. Obviously, this is not true-- but I understand the sentiment. Zasza was not a sociable one, flighty and often chastised for biting at other nest mates. She enjoyed her solitude and often enforced it with her mighty wingspan and thundering hiss. 

We are not so different, you and I.

She coo ’ed a soft trill before making herself comfortable on the open ledge, huffing with her nose at my still untreated wound. I pushed her muzzle away before she licked it. With her at watch, I began to address my wound. The skin was split evenly, and not too deep-- but the glint of dark metal meant I would have to fish out the intrusion. 

“This is going to suck.” I was not a great healer, but I knew enough to keep me alive in the field. Something like this, while perhaps should be stitched-you could get away with just keeping it clean. 

Tsahik will be displeased. 

Without proper tools, my hands would have to suffice. I was not foolish enough to dig dirty fingers into a fresh wound and had a handful of essentials in case I must care for myself. 

The Sani-Pack. 

In truth, I had no real opinion on the avatars and ally’s that were allowed access to High Camp. I was born after the war and had access to these people for the entirety of my childhood. They were no better or worse than the other clan mates, the only exception being the small conveniences they brought with them, like Sani-Pack. Meant for field operations, the portable pack held tools for sterilization and bandaging-all prepped in order to make a quick recovery and get you to the next place. 

It would do more than well for a wound like this. 

Taking the hygiene pads I wiped at the area surrounding my wound and then my hands, the sharp, stinging smell of disinfectant making both me and Zasza sniff. With clean hands and a strong stomach, I fished about for the piece of metal I knew was within my wound. 

“Fuck.” Zasza squirmed as I groaned and hissed before finally pulling the, much smaller than thought, piece of shrapnel from my arm. It was dark, sharp, and coated in blood, so I threw it off into the jutting rocks without a second thought. The wound was now more freely bleeding, but at least the foreign body was out. From the pack I secured the next item, a two-part gel compound that would disinfect, then seal over the wound. Half the pack was a stinging, light-colored liquid to be poured directly onto the site-awful, horrid, and stinging. I bit my lips raw trying to stay silent. Second was a more viscous, translucent, green gel that oddly smelt like burning hair—a necessary evil. It would create a clean, waterproof skin over the open wound and allow it to heal without infection. 

I was sweating by the time it had set, relieved I hadn’t passed out in the process. 

Mo’at would have skinned me. 

Laying to rest I saw Zasza conspicuously eyeing me from her turned head. I chirped a call and she slinked her way closer. 

Zasza did not like other ikran, the same way I did not like other na’vi, but she was unbelievably spoiled when it came to me-and I, her. Per usual, her big body sidled up to envelop me in the cradle of her night-sky colored wings. 

Within moments I was asleep.

[vegitoswife-archive]

Vegito x Reader Collection

PART 2 - SHOPPING (read all the parts here!)

If one thought buying groceries when you lived with a Saiyan would be pricey…they were right.

Pushing one of the carts that was filled to the brim through the isle, you watched in weariness as Vegito pushed the other with one hand, using his other to grab more food items from the surrounding shelves to toss into it. You were thankful over he already knowing what the both of you relatively needed, but the sheer amount because of his appetite was always brutal on your wallet.

Granted, you both did split the bill, but you had to pay more of it than he did because his own job wasn’t exactly the most generous with fulfilling paychecks. A certain hot-headed matriarch that lived on a mountain with his youngest half son, demanded most of the cut from his farming duty. It was very fortunate that his other children were either already adults and could care for themselves, or had a wealthy mother who co-operated one of the biggest companies in the world.

But, you wouldn’t ever blame him for the circumstances in his life, nor for how much of a bottomless pit his stomach genuinely seemed at times. Neither was his fault.

“We need more bread, right?” His voice snapped you out of your reverie.

“Yes. But, please put it in the seat this time, so it doesn’t get crushed.”

“Yeah yeah, I know.” His brown eyes roll as he answered with a dismissive tone, which you couldn’t help but snicker at. On the last shopping trip, your oh-so observant boyfriend placed the bread you bought right into the cart with all the other items, and even placed more on top of it, which soon ended in it getting squashed. He didn’t care all that much, but you weren’t too happy eating unintentionally-flat bread.

You followed his lead, pushing the heavy cart with some difficulty as he headed over towards the bakery section of the supermarket. It was after you moved out of the isle, when you noticed a few people looking intently at Vegito while he pushed the other cart down the white tiles with no effort. Your eyes could have been playing tricks on you, but your gut told you that there was no mistaking the ogling they were doing.

It wasn’t like you were surprised. You of course knew full well how attractive he was. But it often irked you when others also took notice, even though you knew it shouldn’t…

Your steadily rising irritation spiked when some shoppers passed by in front of you, briefly cutting you off and forcing you to wait until they were out of the way. Looking around, you realized you lost sight of Vegito, but this didn’t trouble you. You knew where he was going, so it was only a matter of getting there and making sure he didn’t put the bread where it would get crushed again.

You continued pushing your cart, and eventually, you passed by a small group of women gushing over “that handsome, tailed man” and his “beautiful earrings”. Convinced you knew just who they were talking about, self-consciousness reared its ugly head up once again, and you tried to not entertain the possibility of you not being a worthy companion to the universe’s strongest fighter. You’ve done it too many times in the past, especially because you yourself hardly ever received such attention. Vegito shone so much brighter, charming people and engulfing you simultaneously, to the point you questioned why you were even there at all.

You were distracted from the bile rising in your throat when you walked by an isle filled with candy, and saw only Vegito standing there with the second cart. He was looking over something, and you wasted no time in approaching him.

“Gito? Why are you here?” The supermarket’s bakery was their next destination, and despite how ravenous he could be, the Saiyan didn’t eat confectionary that often. He enjoyed the sugary flavors, but the sweets tended to not agree with his stomach, usually leading to some very…smelly results.

He faced you with a soft grin, and held out what he was holding.

“I saw there was candy here, and thought to get you the kind you like. It’s this, right?”

You suddenly felt a gentle, soothing warmth spread throughout your body. The corners of your lips curled upwards uncontrollably, and you accepted the offered candy, fingers brushing against his own as you did so. In that moment, seeing him do something as little as remember your favorite sweet and choosing to get it for you just to do it, you had forgotten about what was plaguing your thoughts minutes before.

No matter if you were unremarkable to others, Vegito cared a lot about you. That was more than enough.

[blazefirefox]

Finally, after 4 long months, I have finished the first part of my OC voice claims! I unfortunately had to make it a YouTube video because Tumblr wouldn't let me post my 40 minute long video ;_;. The editing is probably a little funky because I was editing at 11 at night on 5 hours of sleep. These characters are part of an Owl House AU I have that surrounds The Collector and the backstory I have made for them. I first made this AU all the way back in June, so some parts are definitely not aligned with canon, but I have tweaked some factors to match with the show more. This first video(s) are the important characters in my story, while the second part will be background/not as important characters. Here's a little key that will help with understanding some of the characters:

Red dot - this character is deceased/residing in the Stars (with one exception)

Blue dot - this character is residing in the mortal plane as a ghost

Red dot with a bit of black in the middle - this character is a resident of the Dark River (hell)

Green dot - they are in some other residence/it's complicated

I also would like to shout out to @wake-up-and-face-the-sun and @onyxstic for sitting through all my explanations of these characters, as well as being huge inspirations for me and for being so kind :3

Without further ado, enjoy ;)

Fluttering Bird, Sol, Millie, Delta, Sentinel Millie, and Kasai's take place during the events of The Owl House

Sierra, Soot, Kindle, Sunfire, and Sandstorm's take place before & after the events of The Owl House

Jasper, Slate, Mirage, Storm, Cyclone, Mourning Dove, Snipe, Quiet Rain, Juniper, Liana, Micah, Clouded Dawn, Thunder Fall, Shaded Dusk, and Hollow Branch's take place before the event of The Owl House

Vermillion, River Ripple, Misty Sky, Jackdaw's Flight, Floating Feather, Teen Falling Dusk (Dusky), Teen Fluttering Bird (Birdie), Teen Millie, Blackout Sol, Blackout Thunder Fall, and Blackout Hollow Branch's take place after the events of The Owl House

Here's where the characters with green dots reside: Sandstorm is in their own purgatory, based on their confusion and questionable deeds in their life, to wander around, slowly losing their sanity; Quiet Rain chose to be reincarnated so that she can watch over her dear friends, as she promised...; Sentinel Millie is basically a beast form of Millie, deciding to rear its ugly head whenever she is feeling an extreme negative emotion, or whenever they feel like it; Kasai was forced asked by the High Archivist Council to right the wrongs Sol has caused, so he has lived far past what a normal Sun Archivist should and has survived many life-ending events, and will not succumb until Sol is dealt with. Mourning Dove, unlike Sol's other victims, chose to stay in the Inbetween to keep an eye on her children.

If you have any questions, PLEASE ask! I would love to answer questions about family trees because I sure I made that confusing in the video lol. Thank you for watching, and I hope you liked it!

[I do not claim any of the voices or the show The Owl House. The only things that belong to me are the AU, most of the characters, and the art.]