return to the dark side of the moon

Don’t you dare call me your sunshine because I know that she is your moon. Everyday I shine for you but everynight the sun sets and she covers up every bit of brightness I once was. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t return my texts or call me back , maybe that’s why I wake up everyday giving you all I have, only to get nothing in return. The clouds cover me up on my bad days so you don’t have to see me at that time, but I asked the clouds to, I never asked for the moon. You still need your sunshine, you still need the light. Because without me your world is dark. You’ll soon realize that the moon you were focused on was actually me behind someone you just wanted me to be. Stuck in the shadows of never good enough, then pushed to the side to be recognized in the morning. That’s not what I want anymore. I didn’t want to have some of your attention. I wanted you when the birds chirped and when the wind sang songs with me at night. But you couldn’t see me. You always needed more from me. Couldn’t you see I was doing my best?Now one day you’ll see the moons face and wake up realizing it’s not even close to the sun you once you fell in love even when the clouds covered it up. That day, the sun won’t rise and your world will be dark.
—  Goodnight moon

Moon in the 8th House - My Mother was a Witch

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John,

Bless the bed that I lie on.

Four corners to my bed,

Four angels round my head;

One to watch and one to pray

And two to bear my soul away

The psychic sets up her shop right on the Moon. With incense burning, dusted occult books full of secrets, and a cursed hand of tarot, the seduction toward the dark side of the moon can turn almost erotic. There tends to be a tremendous intuition for unconscious psychology with Moon in the 8th. The individual is a vessel of psychic activity, riding a crescent moon boat into blackened Scorpio waters, searching for a home amongst the unknown. The individual may be voyaging for lost family members she feels carry pieces of her that were never returned. She searches for a mother figure in gods and angels and invisible comforts. The bond with her own mother is likely quite powerful, and possibly symbolizes a bond that traces back centuries. The intuitive and nurturing energy of the moon is an accelerated method of healing in the 8th house cauldron. The individual knows how to inject healing tonic right into the hidden wound. Like all tonics, it stings like salt, but their power is in their venom, and they cradle their darkness whenever the moon, and their life, escapes into void.

The dance with death is graceful and haunting with Moon in the 8th. There is a kind of acceptance toward death that generates an admirable counsel and wisdom. They can hold the hand and hold the soul of people as they cross over, transporting them toward the light, guiding like a midwife of death. There is a treasured, soothing resonance that expresses through the individual. This can bring incredible peace to the disturbed and broken. All forms of sorcery, witchcraft, potions, generational spells, and ancestral healing rituals reside in the 8th house Moon. She is like the descendant of sorcerers, wielding in her hands the knowledge of ancient bewitching. This relates to the individual’s need to continue family legacies, especially those inherited from female ancestors. The 8th house also relates to karmic debt and legacies. The individual may become the power of attorney for the mother, play a strong advocacy role in her final years, and be the recipient of sacred heirlooms. Moon in the 8th house suggests the family history can involve significant mental illness, abuse, unspeakable secrets, premature death, and institutionalization. As the individual looks back on their life, they barely hold it by seasons or events, but rather previous selves that were burned away. The veil between worlds is leaky with Moon in the 8th. The individual may encounter spiritual events, voices of the dead, demonic interference, and the sense they have inherited a curse. The individual may profoundly and destructively fear the death of the mother.

The longing for intimacy is insatiable with Moon in the 8th. There is a real need to unify, beyond body and form on toward the brink of consciousness. The moment of orgasm is somewhat prophetic in terms of the experience the universe they seek, a naked communion with the invisible where everything slips away but love and soul. What they seek, the walk toward the end, puts the moon in a frantic, hysterical, and vulnerable position. The spells of melancholia, paranoia, histrionic storms generate through extreme emotional experiences that erupt without rhyme or reason. These experiences can also transport the individual to the peak of elation, peeling back the world to reveal gold and underworld milk and honey. Even in the underworld, Hades welcomes his children of the moon, worshiping their psychological expertise, intuitive intelligence, and preparing a cavern of safety, a coffin draped in the silkiest sheets, as he presents a bouquet of black washed roses to celebrate their arrival. The tightrope between life and death shakes and withers with Moon in the 8th. One foot is drenched in a blackened sea of symbols, ghosts, treasure, and omnipresent divinity, while the other flails in materialism, feeling split and isolated, longing to be joined by their family dwelling in the azure. Those ancestors who have passed over speak through Moon in the 8th people. They often use the individual as a sacred carrier of their heritage and place hope in them finishing their incomplete duties. From the ledge of the moon they indulge in occult rituals, paying homage to the women that gave them everything. It illuminates the underworld in luscious light, making it a home, shrouded in cryptic tails that become sweet bedtime lullabies. The mother sings a song of protection, as I lay you down to sleep, I pray the lord your soul to keep, and if you shall die before you wake, I pray the lord your soul to take.


Shades of Red and Blue

I’m ruined by McHanzo, y’all. Sorry-not-sorry. Please enjoy these drabbles about a certain surly warrior and his lovestruck cowboy boyfriend (or future boyfriend, in some of these cases). Cut is for length, not for content.

Originally posted by mariejacquelyn


“Full house!” Jesse crowed, delighted with himself as he slapped his cards on the table between them. “Pay up, sugarplum.”

Hanzo let out a deep, concentrated breath, dark brows knit over stormy eyes as he stood up to untie his obi, adding it to the growing pile between them that consisted of his bow, his quiver, both of his re-enforced boots, and his hair scarf. Jesse’s cheshire cat grin widened as he wiggled his socked toes, the only item of his between them being his boots, which now Hanzo was certain was because he let him win the first round.

“I do not appreciate being taken for a fool, Jesse McCree.”

“Aw, c’mon!” Jesse laughed, taking a sip from his glass of whiskey. “We ain’t gotta play much longer.”

Hanzo was unconvinced. “Is that so?”

“Yeah. Just…” He glanced around the table at the remaining pants and tunic that Hanzo wore. “Like two more hands. Maybe three. Never can tell with ya, darlin.’ I have been surprised bef– hey now!”

He just barely caught the empty teacup as it was hurled at his head.

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"He Could Have Pie, He Just Won't Eat It Though...": On the Absence of Pie in Season 12 and the Demystification of Mary Winchester

I am prefacing this by saying that I haven’t watched the most recent episode yet, so if Dean and Co. happen to eat pie in 12x13 “Family Feud” I had no way of knowing it. :)

That said, in the end, even if Dean did enjoy a slice in this week’s episode, it really wouldn’t change a whole lot, because so far we have seen Dean very rarely eat one of his favorite types of food in S12: pie. Sure enough, the reason why we may see Dean not indulge in eating as much pie may be entirely be explained by things outside of the show - like maybe Jensen saying “man, please no more sweet stuff” ;) - still within the context of a show the absence of pie his season feels very telling. Especially so as pie for Dean definitely was a typ of comfort food and held a good deal of connotations and associations that all circled round notions of family, home, safety and love.

In the 12 seasons of Supernatural Dean’s love for pie has become just as infamous as his love for his baby. Even more so Dean’s eating habits as such have been used as an indicator for his emotional state of mind, his longings and wishes and especially over the course of the “Mark of Cain”-arc Dean’s hunger or lack thereof was drawn attention to as it revealed a lot about his emotional struggles (I have written lot on this topic, I’d insert links but as I am typing this on my phone I can’t) as well as the fight he faced within between human and demon. After all, little else is such a direct example of basic human necessities: the need to eat and drink to survive. That entire plot with Dean edging away from being human to becoming a demon was exemplified heaviest when Dean “left that cheeseburger uneaten” as Crowley reminisces before raising Dean as a demon in 9x23 “Do You Believe in Miracles”. Dean’s arc was contrasted with Castiel’s, who as a human for the very first time experienced hunger and thirst as two real necessities to be able to function.

The topic of hunger and food as indicators for humanity therefore have been very directly written into Dean’s personal story arcs from S8 onwards. Given this focus of recent seasons paired with the shows adamancy of inserting Dean’s love for pie as a recurring stylistic device over 12 seasons of the show in general, it feels very striking that Dean seems to have lost his taste or love for pie in S12 almost completely - the season in which he sees his mother returning from the dead.

As mentioned above Dean’s love for pie seems to be to a good extent directly connected to the memory and love of his mother. In fact, 5x16 “Dark Side of the Moon” even gives the audience as much of a “starting point” as to how Dean’s love for pie came to be in the first place when we see one of Dean’s memories play out in which we (as much as Sam) learn that the Winchesters’ “marriage was never perfect until after Mary died” and that Dean comforted his mother when his father had moved out for a couple of days after a bad fight (one now has to wonder if maybe that could have been due to Mary disappearing and hunting), told her that “daddy still loves her” and offered emotional support to his mother when he was a mere 4 years old. It’s that memory standing out clearest in relation to Deans love for pie as Mary not much later after she calls Dean “her little angel” offers him some pie. It’s by no means a truly happy memory imo, especially as it does kind of showcase how Mary tries to lighten the mood with the offer of pie. It’s this action really that frames and explains Dean using pie as “comfort food” in the most literal sense of the term. So of course this will sound somewhat over the top, but one could argue that every time Dean enjoyed a slice of pie in his life he remembered this moment with his mom. A moment nonetheless in which he again acted almost like an adult rather than a child (and yes, that is suppose will just always remain the tragedy of Dean Winchester: his lost childhood, that, as the show progresses, it seems was lost much earlier than when his mother died…

Keeping all of this in mind I think it is interesting to take a look at S12. The season of Mary Winchesters return. The undoing of the past. But for sure not the erasure of old wounds, scars or traumas, but rather the start to add a few new on top. Amara giving Dean “what he needed most” was his mother. She gave the Winchesters a chance to re-write their story, because maybe she wished her and her brother could do the same. What Amara wanted - and there is not a single doubt in my mind, because even though Dabb seems to have forgotten what he himself wrote at the end of last season, Amara wasn’t cruel just cause - was for Dean to be happy and find peace. Little did she know that bringing back the Winchesters’ mom would hardly bring that for him.

Now, as I have written about multiple times at the end of last season and prior the beginning of this season with Mary’s return we aren’t just loosely following the possible re-write of the Winchesters’ story (though much of this season to me feels sadly like “same old same old” and plain repeat), most of all we see the demystification of Mary Winchester - and that may actually be one of the most painful ones for the Winchesters and Dean especially as it seems countless times he is proven that his mother really is nothing like he remembered her to be. Of course there are few characters that have had such a “cult” surrounding them on the show as Mary Winchester. Her own children never really got to know her as a person as they simply were way too small for that to be the case, yet over time Mary was stylized, idealized and turned into a symbol that had very little in common with the very real Mary Winchester - as this season explores.

Not a single episode this season didn’t feature some sort of deconstruction of Mary Winchester as a person and character or a realization of who she is opposed to how she was imagined to be. It’s vital to see things for what they are, but there’s no denying it’s tough and eliminates foundations that provided at least some sense of stability - and so far we have not seen any kind of building new ground together for a stronger and more mature foundation. In the first episodes Dean learns that Mary “never cooked” or “continued hunting even when she was already married” and that many of his memories are unveiled to have been “false”. Getting to know their mother really is a constant progression of disillusionment for the Winchesters (and for Dean much more than for Sam since he doesn’t have any memories that could be rendered untrue or incomplete or downright “wrong”) and while I firmly believe that Mary does somehow care about her grown up sons, true emotion and connection doesn’t seem to be there. And one can’t really blame anyone for that because of course for Mary suddenly being alive is hard and she never learnt how to have grown up kids, because well… she never lived to have them in a natural progression.

Still, I think it is fairly well portrayed how much Mary struggles to form a meaningful connection with Sam and Dean. A relationship that could build into becoming the loving relationship that meant safety and home and everything being okay for Dean for example as seen in his memories - and one memory in particular featuring pie. Coming back to the symbolic meaning of pie again I think it’s valid to analyze the absence of it in S12 (I truly only remember Dean eating pie in 2nd episode when all was still fairly “okay” and happiness prevailing over Mary being back rather than the start reality setting in) in relation to the demystification of Mary as a symbol and mother figure. Pie may simply not provide the comfort and safety it once did for Dean, because like so much of his past and memories regarding his mother have been overturned and corrected, but not in a very healing - or worded differently - comforting way.

So in a way this season exemplifies imo rather perfectly the saying “You can’t have your pie and eat it too”, which describes you can’t have two good things at the same time, which seems awfully fitting to the whole Mary Winchester arc. And in that regard I think it is indeed very revealing how now that Mary is back “Dean could have pie”, but we don’t see him eat it…

Some Do it Well [Shiro/Reader]

Summary: Shiro spends time with you before the Kerberos mission. His only regret? Telling you any pickup lines.

a/n: anon requested super cheesy, fluffy shiro scene with pickup lines. i felt a cavity coming on just writing it. if you enjoyed, PLEASE let me know!

A laugh bubbled from your throat as his arm wound your waist, reeling you flush against his chest while burying his face against the crook of your neck. His lips stretched wider across your skin with every strangled noise you made, attempting to stifle yourself at the benefit of not giving him any satisfaction.

Even as Shiro peppered dainty kisses across your neck, trailing them to the tip of your shoulder before continuing on beneath your jaw, you merely breathed through your nose and grinned. Your triumphant smugness was replaced with a wave of surprise, his hand turning your face towards him as his lips melded against yours and pushed with a startling forcefulness.

At the expense of your face blistering with heat and your heart hammering away behind your rib-cage, you realized you had lost the game, much to your chagrin.

“I was closer this time. You played dirty, again.”

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Marauders Headcanon #11

Harry was born three days after a full moon.
Remus remembers it well- he was still undercover in a werewolf pack. He was hurting, worse than he ever had at Hogwarts. Being undercover and all, he couldn’t use any of the remedies that he had learned over the years, and there had been no Padfoot or Prongs or Wormtail to distract him. He remembered seeing the owl, perched on a nearby tree, a letter tied to it’s foot. He had panicked- something had to have been wrong, for one of the order to risk sending him a letter. He had taken it from the Owl and quickly shooed the little thing on it’s way, before sneaking away from the pack to read it. The message had contained 3 words, scrawled in Sirius’ unruly handwriting.
Prongslette is here.

Joy exploded in Remus’ chest. Lily had had her baby. James’ son. And they must be alright, because Sirius hadn’t mentioned anything being wrong. He grinned, folding the note up small and shoving it into his pocket, before turning to return to the pack.

Remus didn’t get to meet Harry until he was nearly a month old. When he finally returned to the outside world, it was nearing the full moon a second time. As soon as Remus apparated to Order headquarters, he was seized by a grinning Sirius who held out photos of a baby with dark hair and green eyes. Before Remus could so much as blink, Sirius was taking him to Godric’s Hollow with side-along apparation.
James opened the door. He looked exhausted and rumpled, but he looked happy. He pulled Remus into a bone-crushing hug and let them in. Remus nearly cried when they walked in and saw Lily, asleep on the couch, baby Harry sleeping on her chest. He was small and helpless and perfect.
James asked if he wanted to hold Harry. Remus looked so startled and frightened at the idea that James didn’t ask again.

Remus held Harry for the first time after that next full moon. Peter was on an order mission, and Remus refused to let James leave his brand-new son for him, so there was only Sirius that night. The next morning, Sirius apparated him to James and Lily’s, where James fussed over him as bad as Madame Pomfrey would have. Remus was propped up on the couch when Lily came over, a stern look on her face, and told him that he was going to hold her son. Before Remus could argue, she practically dropped Harry into his arms. Remus did cry, then, because Harry was so small. James, sitting in a chair across from the couch, laughed at him. (“Merlin, Moony, you’re crying more than Lily did, and she was pushing the kid out of h- Ow, Lily, that hurt!”)

Remus picked out Harry’s first sweater, a dark red one with a little gold lion on the front. Lily laughed at her little Gryffindor.(James reminded everyone that, “We’ll love Harry no matter what house he’s in, and- oh, who am I kidding? That kid’s gonna be captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, just like his father.”)
In fact, Remus helped Lily pick out a lot of Harry’s things- baby blankets, clothing, toys, books, pacifiers, shoes, you name it. Remus was the only one Lily trusted to go shopping for the baby and not come back with something utterly ridiculous. (He did anyways, but Lily couldn’t fault him because he looked so happy doing it.)

Moony was Harry’s fifth word. It sounded more like Moo-ie, but it still made Remus cry and Sirius indignant. (“He’s my godchild, he’s supposed to love me best!” “Get over yourself, Padfoot, honestly.”)
Harry’s favorite napping place was Remus. It wasn’t uncommon to find Harry in Remus’ arms, falling asleep as Remus read to him in a soothing, low voice. (Remus read him everything, from The Very Hungry Caterpillar to Robert Frost poetry.)
As Harry got a little older, he loved to run his hands over the scars on Remus’ face. (”Wow, Pads, isn’t that usually your jo- Lily! That hurts!”) Remus let him, even when they were aching, because somehow baby Harry could look at his scars and laugh, and Remus thought that maybe watching the baby would teach him how to do the same.
Despite Sirius being Harry’s godfather, Remus was the babysitter of choice. (Sirius usually came along, anyways.) He was more responsible than Sirius and more capable than Peter. The real reason, though, was because Lily and James knew that it was unlikely Remus would ever have kids of his own, and they wanted to give him everything they could of Harry.

The night James and Lily died, Remus was halfway across the country on Order business. He didn’t find out what had happened until after Sirius was in Azkaban, after Peter was dead, after Harry was gone to the Dursley’s.
Remus returned to the house in Godric’s Hollow the day he found out, because he had to see it for himself. The bodies had already been removed, but there were still devastating thing to be found. He found James’ wand, lying on the couch. He found one of Harry’s socks, abandoned on the living room floor. He found Lily’s favorite blanket, crumpled on the floor.  He found James’ broom, propped up by the back door like James was planning to go flying. He found the basket of books Remus had read to Harry upended in the nursery. He found Harry’s crib, empty and cold. He found that little red sweater Remus had bought him nearly a year ago, abandoned on the changing table. A few of it’s threads were loose. Remus stared at that sweater for a long, long time.
The next day, he went by number 4 Privet drive. A woman holding a fat, screaming baby with a long, skinny neck opened the door. Remus introduced himself as a friend of Lily and James’, and asked if he could see Harry. The woman slammed the door in his face. Remus tried again the next day, and the next. On the third day, a thick man with a large mustache opened the door and told him that if he didn’t stop calling, he would call the police. Remus would have kept going back, but Dumbledore told him to leave Harry be. Remus was devastated, but he couldn’t disobey Dumbledore.

Remus met Harry again on the train. That awful, awful train ride. Remus had woken to the cold chill of the dementors, the memory of James and Lily’s death playing at the edge of his mind. He had cast the patronus spell, looked around the compartment, and seen James crumpled on the floor. Remus had nearly lost it right then, seeing his dead friend lying on the floor. It took him far too long to realize that it wasn’t James. It was Harry. His Harry, his Prongslette, the child he loved like his own flesh and blood. He looked so much like James that it physically hurt. Remus had to leave the compartment, had to compose himself for a moment.
When he returned, he asked, “Are you alright, Harry?”
Harry didn’t ask how Remus knew his name. Remus wished he had.

He really, really wished he had.

self-destruct || peter parker

Request: “17, 20, 28, 39 with Peter Parker :D” from THIS prompt list

17: “I’m not alright! Okay? Are you satisfied? I’m not alright.”
20: “The problem is I don’t think I can stop thinking about you.”
28: “Pretending not to love you was the hardest thing I ever had to do.”
39: “You saved me from myself.”

Your legs swing over the side of your window, the balcony beneath your feet. It’s dark and cold, the shiver down your spine nothing if not expected. You pull the sleeves of your sweatshirt down to cover your hands.

“You shouldn’t really be out here in the cold, should you?”

You scoff at the familiar voice, not trying to hide the bitterness in your tone. You don’t look at him, you can’t.

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a queen to me

a pawn to you pt. ii

pairing: percy x annabeth (still annabeth centric)

rating: teen audiences

genre: angst


if you thought annabeth chase was just going to sit down on that rock and wait for her boyfriend well than you thought wrong.

listen to this during the last few paragraphs if you want the full crying effect that i had. also please excuse any typos, i am. a mess.

read on AO3

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Trapped Inside A Haunted Playhouse With Got7 Part 1 (Reader X Got7)

Originally posted by imnevagonnameetgot7

part 1 ; part 2

It was that time of the year again. The amusement park,also known as “Creep Zone” opened it’s gate to welcome people, like it does every summer. The park was what kept the small village alive,someone would say. Every year tourists from all over the world would visit it, to ride on it’s crazy rollercoasters or just to see what all the fuss was about. Sometimes us humans let curiosity take the best of us, don’t we? And sometimes it could lead us into making, the worst decisions of our lives.. If you happened to drive by village during winter time,you’d think it’s a ghost town. But every summer it’s small vintage like hotels light up their signs, and stood among the woods full of life. Looking around the park for a while, you’d realize that the queue for each ride was endless, kids crying out of fear while on the rollercoasters or even of the excitement while waiting to get in.

“What are we even doing here?? Do you all realize we’re grown ups??”

Jinyoung sighed looking at all the kids who were running around. You just shrugged not wanting to irritate his already irritated figure even more. Maybe he was right.. Apart from the parents who were walking alongside their kids, you were the only adults here.

“Well we are not leaving..We didn’t drive all the way over here for nothing”

Jaebum said earning “yeah"s from the seven of you. Beginning to walk once more, you wandered around trying to find what to do. The atmosphere cold and impersonal, the light breeze making you shiver lightly. You looked up to see a sky, full of dark clouds that hid the starts and bright moon. The wind blew once more and you shivered again. Wearing a t-shirt might have been a bad decision after all.. A hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer and rubbing your sides gently to warm you up. You looked up to smile warmly at Mark who just winked at you and looked away after returning a smile.

Guys look!”

Youngjae exclaimed pointing at a sign.

The House of fear

The guys looked at each other smirking before starting to walking
to the direction the sign was pointing. If it wasn’t for Mark holding your waist tightly you wouldn’t be able to walk, fear taking the best of you. You never were a fan of spooky stuff to be honest and so this so called house wasn’t for you.

“Guys.. Can we do something else?”

You spoke up quietly, but loud enough for the boys to hear. And they all turned to look at you, finding your scared expression priceless and adorable.

“Oi oi lady..Don’t you worry! Sir Jackson will protect you!”

Jackson exclaimed coming behind you, lifting you, to place you up to his shoulders.

“You are going to protect her?

Bambam laughed sarcastically and Yugyeom joined him

“Hyung no offense..But you are afraid of your own shadow..”

“No I’m not shut-”


Mark screamed coming behind Jackson causing him to cry out in fear almost dropping you to the ground.

“Hey! Watch out!”

You said half,scared half annoyed playfully slapping Jackson’s arm.

“Sorry Y/N..”

He apologized before turning to look at Mark giving him the death glance. He just shook his head laughing before continuing to walk. Soon enough you found yourselves outside the playhouse. There was no queue but neither of you questioned it, being happy you wouldn’t have to wait. Some employee with his red bright uniform stood outside the entrance giving you directions.

“..You are not allowed to use your phones in any means so just leave them to me and I’ll return them to you within exiting. Have fun”

He tried to say in the most exciting tone he could master but non the less failed miserably. One by one you gave your phones to him and entered the house. The door slammed shut and in a matter of seconds the lights turned off, taking away the ability to see your surroundings

“I told you guys this wasn’t a good idea…”


You repeated your words once more. Only to realize..You were all alone

A/N: And this is the end of part 1!! I hope you all enjoyed it as much i enjoyed writing it and are eagerly waiting for more!! If you are then, send asks/ submit your ideas on what you think will happen next!! I will read throught all of them and my favourite(s) will be featured on Part 2! Let your imagination run wild, I’ll be waiting to see what you have in store for me!! Good luck to you all! -Admin VanillaKookie

Lustrous (pt 3)

Originally posted by minpuffs

Hybrid!Kook x Reader AU

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 Pt 4

(A/n): The one time I have free time to write I fall asleep OTL I’ll try to finish up writing interference and that request I got asap, I just can’t promise much since school is beating the crap out of me ;;


Jungkook turns away, choosing to ignore your gawking and hisses of confusion. You go to try and catch his attention until there’s a sharp smack upside the back of your head and an arousal of laughter rising from the students around you. Rubbing the back of your head with a pout, you look up at your potions teacher, a witch just like the majority of the supernatural students in your class. She’s a rather young-looking woman, slim and tall with a sort of elegance to her stature, skin milky and presumably smooth, and her long raven hair full and luscious. Who knows, she could be using some kind of spell to enhance her appearances, for all you knew she could’ve actually been one of the cliche old hags with large noses and narrow faces, the chin jutting out tremendously with wrinkled skin and hairy warts.

Hands on her hips, your teacher frowns down at you, “I hope I’m not boring you Miss (Y/n), I sure hope that since you chose this class you are sincerely interested in learning something and not pining after boys.”

“Not at all, I’m sorry,” you deflate under her sharp stare, the weight on your shoulders feeling like lead when you continue to hear the cackles of the other students.

“I would hope so, detention after class Miss (Y/n). Please pay attention instead of talking, yes?”

You nod guiltily, your shoulders sagging as she snaps at your classmates to kindly shut their mouth holes before she does it for them with a threatening wave of her crooked wand. From beside you Jungkook is glancing at you warily, biting on his lip before looking away regrettably.

Once class is over, the room is emptied with the exceptions of you and your teacher. You dread the scolding you receive about talking in her class before she lets you alone to do any homework for the next hour you have imprisoned in her classroom.

You barely get anything done when all you can think about is Jungkook and his eyes, wondering why he would say such a thing. Sure, you knew that according to the creature the eyes glowed a certain color, but was there a meaning behind his?

“You’re free to go Miss (Y/n) I hope you know not to speak during my lecture next time.”

You bow, making a noise of approval, packing up your things before heading out the door. Walking down the deserted hallways, you glance out one of the windows to see the sun in the distance, not quite setting yet but about ready to. The sky is still a vast blue, with a gradient of orange peeking from the horizon where the sun is slowly heading towards.


You startle, jumping out of your skin when Jungkook greets you at the school gates. Has he been waiting there this whole time? Maybe you should’ve realized the sudden radiance of magical aura if it weren’t for your dazed thoughts.

As if reading your thoughts he looks away shyly, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “I- er… Sorry you got in detention… Also I thought it might get dark by the time you get released so…”

Both of your cheeks heat up simultaneously at the realization of his intentions, a small smile gracing your lips as you nod in understanding.

“I see… thank you very much, and no need to be sorry… I guess I was being a little too nosy…” you laugh lightly, the both of you beginning to walk in the direction of your house.

“It’s alright,” he responds timidly, glancing cautiously down at your injured leg.

You notice this and smile, “Don’t worry about my leg, I’m fine now, thanks to you.”

His head bobs in understanding, staying quiet the remainder of the way to your house. Along the trek to your place, you can’t help but cast glances every now and then at the handsome boy walking along side you. He’s truly a walking piece of art, you think with a sigh, looking up quickly when he glances at you curiously. He must’ve noticed your eyes drilling holes into the side of his head by now, or the fluctuation of your heart, or even the scent of your attraction.

By the time you’ve reached your destination, the sky is streaked with an array of orange and pink that mingles with the remainder of what was once the blue sky. Jungkook is about to leave when you exchange farewells until Yahiko yanks open the door and grins widely at the sight of the boy beside you.

“Who might this be?”

“A friend from school,” you start as Jungkook bows politely to her, “…He’s the one who saved me the other day actually…”

“Ah really? Why aren’t you inviting him in then?! Why don’t you stay for awhile for dinner? As thanks for looking out for this little brat,” Yahiko says, not waiting for a rejection and opening the door wider to welcome you both in.

The brunette glances at you reluctantly before motioning for you to enter first and following after you. He’s nothing but politeness and manners throughout the night, answering any question the kitsune has in store for him. He kindly declines the pig liver that she offers and opts for the kimchi stew she made for you.

You’re astounded by the boy, effortlessly capturing the heart of both Yahiko and yours despite his shyness and straight-forward replies.

You catch the ghost of a smile on his pink lips until it’s nowhere to be found as soon as Yahiko asks about his parents. There’s no trace of emotion that crosses his darkening expression at the innocent question. The elder must’ve sensed the change in his demeanor, about ready to wave away her question until he beats her to it.

“Ah… they’ve passed away…” he starts out awkwardly, “I live with my pack…”

Eyebrows furrowing, he quickly raises his hands to wave in dismissal, smelling the dreadful amount of pity and sadness from both you and your guardian, “It’s alright, it’s been years… I’ve come to accept their deaths…”

At this you notice the subtle narrow of Yahiko’s eyes before she nods thoughtfully and expresses her condolences and apologizes for her ignorance.

Your mind however is still reveling in the realization that Jungkook had been a child who had to grow up quickly in order to survive among his pack. He had to mature in order to get about with no parents to nurture him. Then again you didn’t know exactly when he’d lost his parents.

“Don’t worry too much,” he mouths to you when you catch his gaze on you.

You can’t help it, frowning back at him before nodding and continuing to eat your dinner.

“Thank you for having me over,” Jungkook bows when it comes time that he decides to take off, “Dinner was delicious.” In his hand is a bag full of plastic containers of leftovers, Yahiko having persuaded him to take home to his pack.

The street lamps are flickering to life at this time, darkness consuming the town as the moon replaces the spot of the sun.

“Come over any time,” Yahiko hums, bowing slightly in return with a motherly smile on her face.

His eyes slide to meet yours, the corners of his mouth twitching as he nods at you, “I’ll see you Monday (Y/n).”

You both watch as he begins his trek home to where his pack is, closing the door once his tall stature is swallowed by the shadows.

“Quite a handsome boy indeed~” Yahiko grins mischievously, prodding your side with her elbow and wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you.

Flushing, you swat her arm away from you with a weak frown, “D-don’t get the wrong idea, it’s nothing like that, he just saved me okay, it was a coincidence.”

“But you like him?~” she coos knowingly, eyes flashing their usual vibrant shade of orange, “Don’t lie now darling, let’s not forget that I’m also a supernatural being.”

“Did you not say to keep away from other supernatural shifters at my school though?”

She stares at you blankly.

“This is different.”


“He’s quite a handsome young man, strong… with some good manners, his pack members must be well-rounded,” she sighs dreamily, “Darn myself for asking about his parents… aish~”

You frown, flabbergasted by her behavior, “You’re unbelievable.”

“I wanted to ask you something as well.”

Yahiko perks up at this, nodding a go ahead when you look for permission to shoot away.

“…What is the meaning behind blue eyes? Not like human eyes, but you know… er how your eyes glow orange… but is there a special meaning behind blue eyes?”

At this you can see the immediate change in her expression, a certain kind of seriousness crossing over her aged face as she takes hold of your shoulders to face you towards her. She observes your expression thoroughly, a deep frowning marring her aged face.

“Where’d you see this? At school? On the streets?” her voice is low and harsh, stern as she searches for answers in your eyes, “Stay away from that person - whoever it may be. I don’t care who it is - it could even be that boy from earlier - stay away from them.


Yahiko’s sudden change had you startled and reeling for the rest of the weekend. Just like Hyejin, she - although unknowingly - wants you to stay away from Jeon Jungkook. Did his eyes signify evil? What difference were they from other werewolves? Why did it make him out to be a bad guy when he was nothing like the crazed fiend that had attacked you that night?


You glance up and smile weakly at your friend who’s walking you to your last class of the day, “Yeah, I was just thinking.”

“You look like you’re worried about something, I’m sure there’s nothing to worry your pretty little brain over so don’t stress too much, yeah?” Hyejin returns the smile tenfold, surprising you with a hug before beginning to walk off to her class.

“Hey,” Jungkook says softly when he takes a seat beside you, but he stiffens and glances at you worriedly, “Is something wrong? You… reek of anxiety.”

You deflate at this, “I’m sorry that I stink.”

He waves his hand quickly, wondering if he’d just hurt your feelings, “Ah no, sorry… I didn’t mean it like that…”


He falters, letting his hand fall limp as he appraises your slouched form before making a noise of acknowledgement.

“I’m going to ask this once only, say no and I’ll stop bothering you… what’s the meaning behind your eyes?” You hold your breath, staring down at your shoes and patiently waiting for his response. However he remains silent and you are quick to grow antsy and restless at his lack of response.

“If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine… I’m just confused… I… well my friend is telling me to stay away from you… and Yahiko as well when I asked about the meaning of blue eyes on paranormal beings…”

“They’re right,” he answers simply, “I’m dangerous, you shouldn’t really be hanging around me.”


“Do you want to know?” he asks sternly, thick brows knitting together as he scrutinizes your face.

“Y-yes, of course, please,” you say immediately, sitting significantly straighter when he turns away from you.

“I’ll tell you when I walk you home.”

Such words do wonders to your poor heart, beating wildly as you nod silently and can’t wait for the bell to ring. Your heart falls into beat with each tick of second hand, anticipating the end of the school day and being accompanied by Jungkook once again to your home.

Today is a lab day, just a small procedure to teach the class to create the base of most potions. You follow the directions thoroughly, hands moving easily and quickly as if you’ve done these procedures before. Even your teacher gives you a subtle pat on your shoulder to praise you, to which snickers arise from the witches in the room that it’s a miracle a mere human was able to do something like witchcraft.

“Ah… those witches are a pain in the ass, I’m going to have to deal with their snickers for the next how many months,” you groan as you walk beside Jungkook.

“Jungkookie!” a voice calls enthusiastically, halting the male beside you to turn around and be smothered by a flash of black. You blink glancing over from where it came from to see Kim Taehyung casually following after his friend. He regards you with a flirtatious smile, eyes flashing a prominent amber as you glance down at the day ring decorating his hand.

“You’re that girl from the other day,” he points out, eyes looking you up and down, “The one with the delicious scent.”

“Keep away from her Tae,” Jungkook warns lowly, a rumble emitting from his chest as the ravenette that’s attached to him stiffens at the increase of the magical aura that you definitely feel.

“Calm down Kook,” he says softly, gripping the younger’s shoulder and casting him a cautious look.

“Why are you so territorial about a human girl? You haven’t already imprinted on her have you?” Taehyung snorts, although he backs off with his hands raised to show his innocent intentions.

Imprint? You furrow your eyebrows as Jungkook bristles momentarily before breathing in and out heavily in order to calm himself.

“Don’t worry about that idiot,” he sighs, glancing at you softly, “That’s Taehyung by the way, blood-sucker, and the shortie is Jimin, also a werewolf.”

At this he gets smacks and light punches from the two elders. You can’t help but watch them interact in awe, Jungkook seemingly much more comfortable and laid back with the two boys. As previously told to you by Hyejin as his pack brothers. Surely they had a deep bond with each other.

Jimin glances at you, plump lips spreading into a smile that you can only lamely describe as angelic because holy shit how did one look so damn pretty when they smiled? His brown irises however glimmer a shock of gold and you’re briefly reminded that this is no angel, but a werewolf just like Jungkook who could indeed tear you apart effortlessly with his enhanced abilities.

“You’re a cute one, please take good care of Jungkookie, yeah?”

The said male flushes at this and pouts a his hyung, “Hyung, it’s nothing like that… I’m just going to walk her home… I’ll be back soon.”

You’re not sure how, but at some point you two finally manage to part from the pair and head towards your home. Jungkook is rigid and sighing heavily, probably mentally cursing away at his two pack members.

“I guess I should explain to you now, huh?” he finally says after a while, rubbing at the back of his neck, watching you from the corner of his eyes.

To which you nod eagerly and wait patiently for him to finally answer the question that has been bothering you ever since he told you his eyes were nothing pretty.

“You saw Jimin-hyung’s eyes right?”

“Yeah…” you nod, thinking back to the raven-haired boy, how they briefly glinted a prominent golden shine, “They were yellow… more golden I guess.”

“Correct,” he breathes, trying to calm his nerves, “Most betas, werewolves, their eyes are yellow, and I’m sure you know that alphas glow red.”

He stops walking altogether, heaving a huge breath as he looks at you, “However betas with blue eyes… it indicates that they’ve taken the lives of an innocent.”

You freeze, blood running cold at the revelation.

“I’ve killed, (Y/n), I’m a murderer.”

Part One: Knocking on Heaven’s Door. (Dark Side of the Moon S05E16)

Episode Summary:  Ambushed by angry hunters, Sam, Dean and the reader are shot and killed and sent to Heaven. Castiel warns them Zachariah is looking for them. He instructs them to lay low while searching for an angel named Joshua who can help them since he talks directly to God. During their search, they run into some old friends and family members.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 6,839.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Originally posted by podamron

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Apollo 8 astronaut wives Valerie Anders (left) and Susan Borman are ecstatic to finally hear their husbands voices from space in 1968.  The mission was exciting for all the firsts: first to use the giant Saturn V rocket; first crewed spacecraft to leave Earth orbit, reach the Earth’s Moon, orbit it (and endure the broadcast blackout while the spacecraft passed behind the dark side of the Moon) and return safely to Earth.  For all these reasons it was extremely stressful for the wives at home.

Acceptance (Part 4/?)

Genre: Angst

Characters: Jimin x Reader

Words: 639

I hate you to the moon and back. 

A long black coat was draped over his thick, white turtleneck shirt. Specks of snow were sprinkled around the sides of his dark skinny jeans that fit perfectly around his muscular legs. The bottom of his face was wrapped comfortably with a knitted, dark grey scarf that flowed down to just below his hips. His fuzzy black beanie was pulled across his ears.

I looked at his eyes for the first time since the night that he returned. They were dull, as if the ecstasy, happiness, and hope that I once admired from his beautiful eyes everyday, had abandoned him. Although my hate for him had convinced me to rip him entirely out of my life, a sadness and guilt filled my heart because I had never seen him like this.

“Y/N, I’ve noticed you’re thinner,” Jimin quietly murmured, breaking the silence that mourned in the atmosphere after he stepped into my apartment.

I shrugged, and did not mind that he was examining my figure. I was dressed in grey sweatpants and an old t-shirt, which was primarily the only clothing I wore after the incident. I used to care highly of my appearance to impress him, even if he was only coming over to watch a movie with me.

However, the love and passion for impressing Jimin no longer lingered in my mind daily.

Because I didn’t care anymore.

And, well it seemed that he no longer cared for me either.

Clearly, he had replaced me. Why? Why do I think Jimin replaced me? Because he was tired of me. He wanted something new to entertain him. I was like his old toy. Once he found a new one that was more beautiful, cuter, and overall better than me, he threw me away.

Because the better one is always loved, and the one on the side is just a leftover.

“Would you like something to drink?” I asked him, as he toured around my kitchen.

“I would really appreciate that.” He did not even bare to give me a glance.

I made him green tea because I used to always make it for him during winter. He would always love it. I poured exactly one and three quarters of a tablespoon of honey into it, just like how I used to make for him. After I finished, I set his tea on the table, and motioned for him to sit down.

Mesmerized, he stared at the green tea carefully. Then, he turned to me.

“You remembered how I liked my green tea?”


“Well, thanks for remembering, but it’s pretty pointless. I don’t like green tea anymore.”

His bluntness threw me off guard. I narrowed my eyes at him and shook my head, reminding myself that people change.

“You said a drink would be appreciated, but I don’t feel appreciated,” I blurted out. Everything that has built up inside of me was a bomb, and one by one, these bombs were exploding.

“Why did you leave me there waiting for you? Why didn’t you just tell me that you wanted to end our relationship?” I demanded.

He was silent, staring on the floor.

“Why did you even care for me, when you had your eyes on someone else?” My voice rang through the apartment. Anger raged in my eyes.

“Okay, listen,” Jimin began after a moment, “I have a confession, and it’s going to make you really upset, so bear with me if you want to know the truth.”

I held my breath. This was not going to be good.

“I was having an affair with someone behind your back,” he said and paused, giving me a look before continuing, “and I got her pregnant.”

My mind went blank.

Before I was able to control myself, I raised my hand and slapped him across the face.

dancing-heart-pony  asked:

I just got the idea of Dark calling Anti "apple of my eye" and Anti getting annoyed but also flustered at the same time.

that is oddly adorable and i love it!

i feel like dark comes up with a lot of witty nicknames like that for anti because he knows just how much it annoys him. but, unbeknown to dark, anti secretly loves them. anti probably attempts at them in return like calling dark “the dark side of my moon” or something 💛

T.O.P. | SIGNS | ♤ |

Originally posted by militarytabi

                      ♫Two Ravens in the old oak tree
                          One for you & one for me
                     And bluebells in the late December
                        I see signs now all the time

The moon hung brightly in the late September sky. Various stars glittered across the heavens, though their shining beauty seemed to be hidden by the reflection in the city’s lights. It was cold now that the sun was tucked away bringing darkness in its absence. There was a small comfort in knowing he wasn’t cold just because of the ache that currently resided deep within his belly.

Seunghyun sighed out, whether it was in exhaustion or contemplation, these days it seemed to blend in until he felt as his surroundings were blurred images as they passed by.

He took a deep swig of his whiskey, the warm taste recalling a time when he acquired the craving for something other than his usual choices. These days vintage wine didn’t seem to do the trick, and really, he didn’t drink for the taste it anymore.

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Part Three: Even the Moon Has a Dark Side. (Dark Side of the Moon S05E16)

Episode Summary:  Ambushed by angry hunters, Sam, Dean and the reader are shot and killed and sent to Heaven. Castiel warns them Zachariah is looking for them. He instructs them to lay low while searching for an angel named Joshua who can help them since he talks directly to God. During their search, they run into some old friends and family members.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 6,935.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Originally posted by dustydreamsanddirtyscars

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This is an excerpt from my post, ‘THRACIANS, REAPERS OF THE BALKANS’.

The Macedonians and Romans clashed in two major conflicts known as the First and Second Macedonian Wars. The Thracians were divided with some of the more “wild” tribes siding with the Romans in 172 BCE while the more “civilized” Odrysians under their king, Cotys IV, sided with the Macedonians.

Cotys was a man of distinguished appearance and of great ability in military affairs, and besides, quite unlike a Thracian in character. For he was of sober habits, and gave evidence of a gentleness of temper and a steadiness of disposition worthy of a man of gentle birth.” – Histories by Polybius, 27.12.

Cotys, king of the Thracians, was a man who in matters of warfare moved with vigor and was superior in judgement, and who in other respects as well was responsible and deserving of friendship. He was abstinent and circumspect in the highest degree, and most important of all, was completely exempt from the besetting vices of the Thracian people.” – The Library of History by Diodorus Siculus, 30.3.1.

Battle or Kallinikos (171 BCE):

When the Third Macedonian War (171-168 BC) broke out between Rome and Macedon the Odrysians proved to be valuable assets as they were instrumental in the Battle of Kallinikos (171 BCE). Cotys IV formed the Macedonian king’s left wing with his army of Thracian cavalrymen and light infantrymen, after the initial ranged skirmish “the Thracians, like wild beasts kept in cages and suddenly released, set up a deafening roar and charged the Italian cavalry on the right wing with such fury that, in spite of their experience of war and their native fearlessness, they threw them into disorder. [3] The infantry on both sides snapped the lances of the cavalry with their swords, cut at the legs of the horses and stabbed them in the flanks” (Livy, 42.59.2-3). 

In the end the battle resulted in a stalemate but it is seen as a Macedonian victory since they only lost 20 cavalrymen and 40 infantry while the Romans lost 200 cavalrymen, 2000 infantrymen, and 600 other were imprisoned.

On their return to camp the victors were all in high spirits, but the Thracians surpassed all in the insolence of their joy. They returned to camp singing and carrying the heads of their enemies fixed on their spears.” – The History of Romeby Titus Livius (Livy), 42.60.2.

^ Osprey – ‘Men-at-Arms’ series, issue 360 – The Thracians, 700 BC-AD 46 by Christopher Webber and Angus McBride (Illustrator). Plate F: The Kallinikos Skirmish, 171 BC – “Livy says that the victorious Thracian troops returned to their camp swaggering singing and dancing, with severed Roman heads on their rhomphaias as trophies.F1: Thracian infantryman – “He has the late 4th century shield, Chalkidian helmet, and greaves found in the Dolna Koznitza mound near Kyustendil, together with a rhomphaia and the black tunic described by Plutarch. The Thracians at Pydna may have looked like this, as they are described with ‘glittering’ shields and black tunics. Alternatively, this bronze-faced shield may be a parade piece – instead he might carry an ordinary white thureos.F2: Thracian slinger– “There are only rare mentions and no known depictions of Thracian slingers, and this reconstruction is based on an auxiliary slinger from Trajan’s Column.F3: Thracian infantryman – “This figure is shown in the clothes worn by a hunter in the Alexandrovo tomb paintings, and armor and equipment found together in the Blagoevgrads region of Bulgaria: bronze Thracian helmet, bronze greaves, three bronze torques, and an iron rhomphaia. They are dated to around the end of the 4th century. He carries an oval thureos like those shown in the Kazanluk tomb paintings. The rhomphaia had a large ring in the centre, which could have been used for a carrying strap.

Battle of Pydna (168 BCE):

After aiding the Macedonians Cotys IV had to return to his realm since it was invaded by a rival Thracian king named Autlesbis who was backed by the Attalid (Attalid dynasty of Pergamon, an ally of Rome) officer Corragus. After these troubles in Thrace were quelled by the Thraco-Macedonian alliance, Cotys returned to the side of the Macedonians where he would once again aid them against the Romans at the famed Battle of Pydna in 168 BCE. The night before the battle that would decide the fate of Macedon and Thrace there was a lunar eclipse which according to Plutarch was believed by the Macedonians to foreshadow the fall of the Macedonian king.

“[7] Now, when night had come, and the soldiers, after supper, were betaking themselves to rest and sleep, on a sudden the moon, which was full and high in the heavens, grew dark, lost its light, took on all sorts of colors in succession, and finally disappeared. [8] The Romans, according to their custom, tried to call her light back by the clashing of bronze utensils and by holding up many blazing fire-brands and torches towards the heavens; the Macedonians, however, did nothing of this sort, but amazement and terror possessed their camp, and a rumor quietly spread among many of them that the portent signified an eclipse of a king.” – The Parallel Lives (The Life of Aemilius Paulus) by Plutarch, 17.7-8.

How the battle commenced on the next day varies but I’ll just mention the one which gives the Thracians a more prominent role. A Roman mule broke for the nearby river which divided the two armies and from which both drank. When three Roman soldiers went to retrieve it they saw two Thracian soldiers drawing the mule onto their side of the river. The Romans crossed the river, killed one of the Thracians and reclaimed the mule. A group of 800 Thracians who were guarding the bank witnessed the slaying of their comrade so “[9] enraged at seeing a comrade killed before their eyes, ran across the river in pursuit of those who slew him; [10] then more joined in and at last the whole body” (History of Rome by Livy, 44.40.9-10).

First the Thracians advanced, whose appearance, Nasica says, was most terrible, — men of lofty stature, clad in tunics which showed black beneath the white and gleaming armor of their shields and greaves, and tossing high on their right shoulders battle-axes with heavy iron heads.” – The Parallel Lives (The Life of Aemilius Paulus) by Plutarch, 18.3 or 5.

From this engagement the battle had commenced. The Macedonians lost decisively as their infantrymen crumbled “to pieces like a falling house” (Livy, 44.41) which led the Macedonian and Odrysian kings fleeing the field with their cavalrymen. The Roman pursuit was hampered by their massacring of the enemy infantrymen.

It is universally admitted that never had so many Macedonians been killed by the Romans in a single battle. As many as 20,000 men perished; 6000 who had fled to Pydna fell into the enemy’s hands, and 5000 were made prisoners in their flight.” – The History of Rome by Titus Livius (Livy), 44.42.7.

For the most part, the Third Macedonian War ended after this battle. King Perseus of Macedon eventually gave himself up to the Romans who paraded him in chains as their captive during the triumph celebrating their victory over Macedon. Perseus was placed under house arrest until his death shortly after. The Antigonid dynasty which was founded by Alexander’s diadoch Antigonus I Monophthalmus back in 306 BCE reached its end with Perseus of Macedon.

^ Perseus surrenders to Paullus by Jean-François Pierre Peyron (1802).

Cotys IV also felt the bitter sting of defeat when the Romans took his son captive along with Perseus and the latter’s family, sending them off to Italy. With Macedon subdued and his son held captive, Cotys made this wise decision to accept the new power shift by sending an embassy to the Romans asking for an alliance with the Romans and the return of his son.

The Macedonians once again rose up in rebellion under a pretender named Andriscus. In the end, the fourth and final Macedonian War was won by the Romans and resulted in the subjugation of Macedon in 148 BCE. Two years later the Romans establishment of the Roman province of Macedonia which encompassed Macedonia, Thessaly, Epirus and Paeonia as well as southwestern Thrace, and coastal and southern Illyria. The Thracians however, along with their Celtic and Illyrian neighbors, continued to harass the new Roman possessions.

After the Macedonian Wars, the Thracians are mentioned less and less until they eventually faded back into the shadows of history. Today few have ever heard of the Thracians and even less know much about them. These “barbarians” who lived on the edges of the “civilized” world of the Greeks and Macedonians made a name for themselves nonetheless. The mere mention of them conjured up thoughts of a foreign, savage, and brutal society of warriors bent on plunder and revelry. They were reviled and feared but were admired for their brave and hardy nature and eagerly sought after by kings and commanders. In the end, the Thracians were victims of a history written by their enemies and outsiders. Let us not forget that the Thracians inspired the use of the pelte shield and the light infantrymen known as peltasts, their caps inspired the Phrygian/Thracian helmets created by the Greeks and Macedonians, supposedly inspired the Athenian general Iphicrates’ reforms, invented the cavalry wedge formation implemented by Philip II and his son Alexander the Great and revolutionized the religious practices and beliefs of the classical Greek and Hellenistic world.

Head over to my post, ‘THRACIANS, REAPERS OF THE BALKANS’, to learn about their culture, religion, weaponry, armors, battle tactics, and their influence on the ancient world. Their history as well, from the tales in the Iliad to the era of the Greco-Persian Wars, and the rise of Macedon under Philip II and his son Alexander the Great.