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thepomegranatewitch · 7 months

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chag sameach and happy chuseok!

This year, for the first time ever, I built a sukkah. It was tough. I'm not going to lie, even doing it on the cheap it was expensive. There was a lot of hot, hard work.

But I am so, so proud of myself.

I put in the effort to make sure my kids have access to both of their cultures through me, and then I got a shady hut to sit in this last week. I also am making sure to be visibly, loudly, publicly all my selves, so another queer, neurodivergent, mixed race Asian Jew out there knows they aren't the only one.

For those who don't know, Sukkot is a Jewish harvest-time festival celebrating the harvest with some ancestor veneration. It's not a big deal holiday anymore, but it was one of the three pilgrimage festivals during Temple times. I've seen lovely photos of streets in eretz yisrael lined with many sukkot. Chuseok is a Korean harvest-time festival celebrating the harvest with some ancestor veneration. It's not such a big deal holiday anymore, but many people still use it as a time to travel and spend time with living relatives. I hear tell of planes and hotels being booked out for months and traffic being horrendous as people roadtrip to childhood or ancestral hometowns.

Here's some photos of mixed race Jewish Korean queer joy. If you follow the link at the bottom, you can watch the video with voiceover on my instagram. (I could download the video, but because I added the theme from Practical Magic behind my words instagram wouldn't let me download my own voice.)

Come with me and enjoy!

Image description: a light skinned mixed race person with dark hair and eyes, large dark green glasses, a white kerchief, and a light blue jeogori with dark blue collar and cuffs and white dongjeong smiles at the camera, gesturing with one hand upwards and back to the grass fence sukkah wall behind them.

Image description: building the sukkah. A series of five shots, the first two with the person described above wearing a long sleeve green tee and a striped buff straw sunhat on a cloudless sunny day. They use white cotton twine to stitch reed fencing to a metal pop up tent frame, with the top lowered to waist height. The third shot, without people, shows the roof completed and raised to useable height, with flowering bougainvillea and white oleander in the background against a cloudless blue sky. The fourth shot shows the sukkah with walls and an orange outdoor extension cord going into the sukkah. The top has more schach of flowering bougainvillea, pyracantha with orange berries, and an olive-like ornamental covering the roof under the metal frame point. The last shot, at night, shows the interior of the sukkah with a round outdoor table and four patio chairs with cushions inside. Sandbags hold the corners of the sukkah, and a large blue tapestry with a combined sun and moon is pinned to the back wall. Outdoor lights are strung so the sukkah interior glows brightly against the dark night.

Making songpyeon! Songpyeon are as important to Chuseok as a hanukkiah is to Xanike or a seder is to Pesach. They are two to three bite rice cakes traditionally stuffed with sesame seeds, pine nuts, beans, or chestnuts, mixed with honey. They are steamed on pine needles to make a sweet, earthy, chewy treat. I wanted to buy them, but nowhere locally sells them. The white and purple are from our first batch, and the decorated green and purple are from batches six and seven. We had seven batches in 48 hours, and I am grateful my preschooler has been getting plenty of playdough time at school - they were really good at making songpyeon!

A note on togetherness: it is traditional to make songpyeon at home together. I have many memories of the work and stress that went in to pulling off picture-perfect holidays, and while the photographed objects are perfect, the smiles never reach our eyes. I committed to making ugly art and focusing my energy on enjoying time with my four and one year old. I want their foundational memories to be enjoying time together, not me screaming at them to make perfect edible art. It was only on the last batch, when we had an empty afternoon stretching out before us, that we tried some more beautiful candies. I think they turned out great.

The white are plain, the purple is made with blueberry juice, and the green with green tea powder. We stuffed ours with a mix of honeyed pine nuts, honeyed white sesame seeds, and honeyed black sesame seeds. We also made a batch tinted rosy brown with beetroot powder.

Image description. Set of seven photos showing songpyeon being made. The first three show a plate with measured but unstuffed pieces, shaped pieces, and the same person as above in a black shirt, black apron, and teal tichel using a spoon to stuff a white songpyeon with sesame seeds. These all sit on a table with a large print of orange fruits, leaves, and flowers. The songpyeon are white and purple. Below that is a set of four images with green and purple songpyeon decorated with purple and green flowers to leaves. They are simple in design. The first two show the paler, uncooked pieces sitting on cloth liners and pine needles in a bamboo steamer basket on the table, and the last two are steamy shots showing the cooked pieces, now darker, still in the steamer basket in the pot on the stove.

Some shots of the sukkah just before the triple holiday started: Chuseok, Sukkot, and Shabbat. After all the work I did (plus baking our challah), we got takeout for dinner.

Our lulav is not standard. We don't have an etrog, but a very special lemon our friends grew and gifted us the harvesting thereof. The palm came from our home, and the willow from our friends,' but instead of myrtle I opted for redwood branches (also from our friends' home). These are similarly fragrant, grow in sets of three, and were foragable by me and the baby close to home. I believe there is a balance to be found between traditional observance, and localized observance. It's not right for everyone, but it is right for me and my family.

The table with with shabbat candlesticks and food is our jesa table. Jesa is an ancestor veneration ceremony in which food and bows are offered to the ancestors. They consume the energy from the food, and leave their blessings behind. When we consume the food, we receive the blessings. For more on traditional Korean practices, I recommend popping over to instagram to follow Mudang Mia, Mudang Jenn (who has a free digital magazine), and Mudang Seo Choi (who regularly has kickstarters for books!).

Image description. Four shots of the sukkah interior, showcasing the food. First shot shows a table set for two adults and two children, with printed homemade colouring books at each child's place setting, The table has a blue tablecloth, three takeout boxes of food, a takeout container of fried rice, a small floral arrangement, a challah wrapped in a red and gold cover with bees woven in, a bottle of de-alcoholized red wine, a bottle of pomegranate juice, a large jar of lemon water, and takeout containers for soup. The second shot is the same set but pulled back and showing the whole interior so the lulav table relative to eating table is visible. The third shot is a very narrow table with a blue cloth printed with smiling white suns on it. It has two glass shabbat candlesticks, a package of beeswax candles, a stack of five coconut jellies, chopsticks, and a plate with homemade songpyeon in white, rosy brown, and purple, white mochi with red bean paste, and three cylindrical puffed rice snacks. The fourth shot is of the lemon and lulav bundle as described above. The lulav is wrapped and tied with white cotton twine.

Bonus: the video I made, with voiceover available on instagram.

You aren't alone.

moadim l'simcha.

Image description: a twig with flowering pomegranate in various stages for seven buds and blossoms total. It has a large white circle behind. Collaged on top are three rounds of moon cycles, spiraling in towards the center in black.

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greenwitchcrafts · 8 months

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September 2023 witch guide

Full moon: September 29th

New moon: September 14th

Sabbats: Mabon September 23rd

September Harvest Moon

Also known as: Autumn moon, falling leaves moon, song moon, leaves turning moon, moon of brown leaves, yellow leaf moon, wine moon & Full corn moon

Element: Earth

Zodiac: Virgon& Libra

Animal spirits: Trooping Faeries

Deities: Brigid, Ceres, Ch'ang-o, Demeter, Freya, Isis & Vesta

Animals: Jackal & snake

Birds: Ibis & sparrow

Trees: Bay, hawthorn, hazel & larch

Herbs/plants: Copal, fennel, rye, skullcap, valerian, wheat & witch hazel

Flowers: Lily & Narcissus

Scents: Bergamot, gardenia, mastic & storax

Stones: Bloodstone, chrysolite, citrine, olivine, peridot & sapphire

Colors: Browns, dark blue, greens & yellows ( Earth tones)

Energy: Balance of light & dark, dietary matters, employment, health, intellectual pursuits, prosperity, psychism, rest, spirituality, success & work environments. Also cleaning & straightening mentally, physically & spiritually.

Technically, the Harvest Moon is the Full Moon closest to the September equinox around September 21st. The Harvest Moon is the only Full Moon name determined by the equinox rather than a month. Most years, it’s in September, but around every three years, it falls in October.

In September, the Full Moon is the Corn Moon from the Native American tribes harvesting their corn. It can also be the Harvest Moon, which corresponds with the Anglo-Saxon name, while Celtic and Old English names are Wine Moon, Song Moon, and Barley Moon.

Mabon

Also known as: Autumn Equinox, Cornucopia, Witch's Thanksgiving & Alban Elved

Season: Fall

Symbols: Acorns, apples, autumn leaves, berries, corn, cornucopia (horn of plenty), dried seeds, gourds, grains, grapes, ivy, pine cones, pomegranates, vines, wheat, white roses & wine

Colors: Blue brown, drk red, deep gold, gold, indigo, lead green, maroon, orange, red, russet, violet & yellow

Oils/incense: Apple, apple blossom, benzoin, black pepper, hay/straw, myrrh, passion flower, patchouli, pine, red poppy & sage

Animals: Dog, goose, hawk, swan, swallow & wolf

Stones: Agate, amethyst, carnelian, lapis lazuli, sapphire, yellow Agate & yellow topaz

Foods: Apples, blackberries, blackberry wine, bread, carrots, cider, corn, cornbread, grapes, heather wine, nuts, onions, pomegranates, potatoes, squash, vegetables, wheat & winw

Herbs/plants: Acorn, benzoin, cedar, corn, cypress, ferns, grains, hazel, hops, ivy, myrrh, oak, pine, sage, sassafras, Salomon's seal, thistle, tobacco & wheat

Flowers: Aster, heather, honeysuckle, marigold, milkweed, mum,passion flower& rose

Goddesses: Danu, Epona, Modron, Morrigan, Muses, Pomona, Persephone, Sophia & Sura

Gods: Esus, Green Man, Hermes, Mabon, Mannanan, Toth & Thor

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Accomplishment, agriculture, balance, goals, gratitude & grounding

Spellworks: Balance, harmony, protection, prosperity, security & self confidence

Related festivals:

• Sukkot- is a Torah-commanded holiday celebrated for seven days, beginning on the 15th day of the month of Tishrei. It is one of the Three Pilgrimage Festivals (Hebrew: שלוש רגלים, shalosh regalim) on which those Israelites who could were commanded to make a pilgrimage to the Temple in Jerusalem. In addition to its harvest roots, the holiday also holds spiritual importance with regard to its abandonment of materialism to focus on nationhood, spirituality, and hospitality, this principle underlying the construction of a temporary, almost nomadic, structure of a sukkah.

• Mid-Autumn festival- also known as the Moon Festival or Mooncake Festival, is a traditional festival celebrated in Chinese culture. Similar holidays are celebrated by other cultures in East & Southeast Asia. It is one of the most important holidays in Chinese culture; its popularity is on par with that of Chinese New Year. The history of the Mid-Autumn Festival dates back over 3,000 years. The festival is held on the 15th day of the 8th month of the Chinese lunisolar lunisolar calendar with a full moon at night, corresponding to mid-September to early October of the Gregorian calendar. On this day, the Chinese believe that the Moon is at its brightest and fullest size, coinciding with harvest time in the middle of Autumn.

• Thanksgiving- This is a secular holiday which is similar to the cell of Mabon; A day to give thanks for the food & blessings of the previous year. The American Thanksgiving is the last Thursday of November while the Canadian Thanksgiving is celebrated in October

• Festival of Dionysus- There were several festivals that honored Dionysus, the God of wine. It was a time of fun, games, feasting & drinking wine.

Activities:

•Scatter offerings in a harvested fields, Offer libations to trees

• Decorate your home and/or altar space for fall

• Bake bread

• Perform a ritual to restore balance and harmony to your life

• Cleanse your home of negative energies

• Pick apples

• Have a dinner or feast with your family and/or friends

• Set intentions for the upcoming year

• Purge what is no longer serving you

•Take a walk in the woods

• Enjoy a pumpkin spice latte

• Donate to your local food bank

• Gather dried herbs, plants, seeds & pods

• Learn something new

• Make wine

• Brew an apple cinnamon simmer pot

• Create an outdoor Mabon altar

•Adorn burial sites with leaves, acorns, & pinecones to honor those who have passed over & visit their graves

Many cultures see the second harvest (after the first harvest Lammas) and equinox as a time for giving thanks. This time of year is when farmers know how well their summer crops did, and how well fed their animals have become. This determines whether you and your family would have enough food for the winter. That is why people used to give thanks around this time, thanks for their crops, and animals, and food.

The name Mabon comes from the Welsh God, who was the son of the Earth Mother Goddess. However, there is evidence that the name was adopted in the 1970s, and the holiday was not originally a Celtic celebration.

Some believe Night and day are of equal legth and the God's energy & strength are nearly gone . The Goddess begins to mourn the loss she knows is coming, but knows he will return when he reborn at Yule.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Wikipedia

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Mabon: Rituals, Recipes & Lore for the Autumn Equinox Llewellyn's Sabbat Essentials

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koshercosplay · 3 years

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jewish headcanons for the owl house because apparently this is what I do for every new show I watch lmao:

-Chanukah: Luz spends a really long time choosing/making the perfect present for everyone in the owl family. she finds an old menorah Eda had stolen from the human realm years ago in the weapons room, oddly enough. she later finds out that Eda had thought it was some kind of 8 pronged weapon. Amity is too embarrassed to give Luz her present in person, and ends up dropping it at the front door and running away.

- Eda enjoys lag baomer, simply because you get to set a big thing on fire, and setting big things on fire is fun and not something she gets to do nearly often enough.

- Purim: after a long internal conflict debating about a hundred costume ideas, Luz end up being a magical otter. Eda decides to dress up as the owl beast, which horrifies everyone, to her delight. Amity shows up, rather bashfully, dressed as the good witch Azura, and Luz faints.

Sukkot: Willow started taking requests for what people wanted their schach to be made out of, and is thrilled when everyone takes her up on it. Boscha is PISSED: now she either has to ask Willow for help, or end up with the least interesting sukkah in Bonesborough. All of Luz's sukkah decorations are handmade with care, and she has a great time spending a whole day painstakingly decorating the sukkah just right.

- Pesach: Gus makes Elijah's ghost actually walk through the door and drink from his cup, scaring the shit out of everybody. King enjoys playing the part of pharaoh during the retelling of the pesach story at the seder. everyone ends up stealing the afikoman from each other throughout the meal and hiding it in increasingly absurd places. Lilith won by simply hiding it behind her back, because no one actually thought to look there.

#the owl house fandom can have some jewish headcanons #as a treat #i love making these so much #should i make more?#i dont even know if there's an audience for these besides me lmao #any jewish people out there also into toh?#the owl house #toh #toh headcanons #the owl house headcanons #jewish headcanons #eda the owl lady #luz noceda #amity blight #willow park #lumity #jewish holidays

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rotzaprachim · 5 years

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марсианка (KOS The Martian AU)

This started with me thinking SPACE PIRATE NIKOLAI, and then not wanting to have to google a bunch of Star Wars shit to write that AU, and then remembering Mark Watney Space Pirate, and then writing that convo out, and then this whole mess grew from that one scene, and it’s almost 2000 words. So: Space Pirate Zoya.

I know nothing about space or space agencies. I apologise so much.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17714387 - AO3 link

----

He talks to her in Russian, over the coms. English is the main language of communication with Earth; it’s what she leaves her logs in, it’s what she got her climatology doctorate in even if, for the most elemental things, she looks out at the night sky and thinks, כוכב, kochav, before she hears the English. نجم, звезда, those come easily, too. And তারকা, she reminds herself. Najim, zvezda, tārakā. You play such games with your mind to keep from losing your grasp on earth, all the way up here.

Russian, though, it’s what her aunt spoke to her in, after she saved her life, in a tiny flat in a smoggy bloc of Petah Tikvah. The current pulls her home.

“Nazyalenskaya,” he drawls over the fritzy connection system, “I want to kill Rietveld.”

She quirks a smile at that; everyone has wanted to kill Rietveld. She would give a lot to want to kill Rietveld right now.

“I think you can spare him another day. If only for all the Van Halen tapes he left behind. And the ridiculous quantity of Indonesian rap.”

“I’m never going to forget about that.”

“Hmmmm, I’d be careful about talking, considering the number of romance novels I’ve found on the system, downloaded by one N. Lantsov.”

“In the face of oblivion,” she tells the crew of the Терешко́ва, “the only course of action left is to science the shit out of this.”

How does it feel to be the dying goddess of your own planet?

Sometimes, that’s what she feels like, when she pulls water from Rocket fuel. No one around to hear her swear.

It may be on Mars, but growing potatoes in a literal field of shit pulls her from that revery, into some kind of ancestral, rain-soaked Russian field.

She wonders, absentmindedly and only half-jokingly, if she’s gonna be here long enough that attempting to distil some vodka for the pain would be worth it.

No. She’ll pull herself out of this on pure spite alone, if she has to. It’s gotten her out of other tough places. She’ll pull herself out of this mess, and above a dust clogged atmosphere to the sky above, and all the way home. She’ll buy a cheap- no, an expensive one, it’s what Earth owes her- an expensive bottle of wine from a corner store and uncork it with her eyes out to the sea and she’ll drink life down to the dregs.

I am not going to die here.

Look at the stars she tells herself, and try not to feel the fear.

The first English poem she memorised through to the end. Sarah Williams, the full version, not the one chopped to a fridge-magnet length quote. Reach me down my Tycho Brahe, -- I would know him when we meet. Considering that in its entirety it’s about a scientist comprehending his own imminent mortality, it is perhaps not the best choice of reading material. You may tell the German college that their honour comes too./But they must not waste repentance on the grizzled savant’s fate; Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.”

She was a girl, once, and she wanted to get away and leave her old life in flames behind her, and she did. She ran and ran and ran, past national borders and past agencies with long acronyms and past the fiery bounds of earth herself. She ran until, quite literally, she could go no further, until she was a woman in a duct-taped house in a place no thing can live, like some kind of mid 21st century Slavic witch.

“Not only am I the best meterologist on earth, I’m the best fucking botanist on this planet. Best surgeon, best cook, best-” she isn’t one to lighten the mood, usually, but what else is there- “best lover.”

She points up, through the palm branches of the sukkah’s roof and to the night sky above.

“You can see Mars, right there? See, you can see me. It’s not that far away.”

Lada doesn’t seem convinced.

“You might not come back-”

“You think a few million kilometers is gonna stop me from getting back to my best research partner? Huh. Thought you knew me better than that.”

“A few million?”

“Closer than the nearest bus stop.”

“It’s gonna be years.”

“And so? I’ll expect you to be a proper scientist, when I get back. Or a proper poet, or painter, or chicken farmer.”

“But you’ll come back?”

“There’s nothing that can stop me.”

“Nazyalenskaya,” he asks, and in her name is the universe. “How are you?” is not the question to ask a lone crew member stranded literally on Mars. “We got a letter from your family. Gonna patch it through to you.”

“What do you suppose the requirements for building a sukkah on Mars are?”

Not that there’s much of a rule book for this kind of thing, but it’s something she thinks about. Humans, they look at the void and the unlivable planet, and they make it theirs. Genya’s calculations for the direction to face Mecca. The whole crew’s World Cup fervor. The solid week she and Rietveld spent in a subtle face off with the rest of the crew about using the big screen to keep up with Eurovision. The constant, unending, awkwardness of Ghafa and Rietveld, though both were far too professional to act on it.

“Red wire to the green and-”

“Lotta fucking duct tape, I know.”

Repairing the rover- that’s a lot of fun. She never really learned how to fix cars, back home. But it gives her something to do, something active, besides staring at potato plants.

She opens another one of her precious rovers for the parts. A weather probe. Says a silent prayer for the death of science.

It’s a long way to Schiaparelli crater. Zoya’s hated road trips for as long as she can remember, both in the environmentalist, fume-hating way, and also in the traffic-hating kind of way. So, she tells herself. Channel that spite into doing what scares you.

“Nazyalenskaya,” he says, “I’ve been thinking about the international implications of what you’re trying to do.”

“Mhmm” she says

“First off, I’d like to thank you for being possibly the most diplomatically complicated climatologist alive. Got Roscosmos, ISRO, and the ISA all breathing down my necks.”

“Good. Use it. Play ‘em against each other. This is either the biggest propaganda win or worst failure of their fucking lives.”

“The other thing is law on Mars. There’s an international treaty saying no country can claim anything that’s not on earth. By another treaty, if you’re not in any country’s territory, maritime law applies. So, Mars is international waters.”

Treaties, red tape, diplomatic stuff- that was never her job. Her job was making sure that six other people could breathe in space. Maintaining, linking the systems of the Hab to be survivable.

The storms, though, that was why she was really there. Or at least, that’s what pulled her from earth. The kinds of weather this galaxy had, beyond the limits of earth.

(Once upon a time, Mars had a viable atmosphere. Once upon a time. She looks out at the orange hellscape and wonders: will this be us?)

And then a storm had been her death. She was just biding her time until it happened.

Pessimism. What else was left?

“So?”

“So, Nazyalenskaya, the Hab’s a tripartite effort. ESA, Roscosmos, CNSA. Non-military, but you know as well as I do there’s enough earth-based bitching about who owns it. The second you walk outside, though, you’re in international waters. Soon-”

“No-”

“Soon you’re gonna leave it for the Schiaparelli crater, and you’re gonna commandeer the Ares lV lander. No one on earth gave you explicit permission to do this, and they can’t until you’re back with us on Терешко́ва .”

She realises where this is going. “Fucking hell, Lantsov, not more with the-”

“So you’re going to be taking a craft into international waters without permission, which by definition makes you a pirate. “

Even she cracks a smile.

“DOCTOR ZOYA NAZYALENSKAYA, SPACE PIRATE!”

She can feel the excitement down the line.

“I better get an eye patch at the end of all this.”

“Nothing less for the best meteorologist on the planet.”

“A ship. Commandeered Spanish galleon.”

“Of course.”

“Crate full of gold bullion.”

“I promise you. I think the rest of the crew’s been planning their first meal back on earth for the last year.”

“Shut the fuck up. You’re not the ones living off potatoes and protein bars.” She’d found a few secreted-away bottles of kecap manis and a jar of sambal oelek in Rietveld’s luggage, which- completely against regulations for cargo by weight, but it’s inadvertently the best thing he’s ever done for her. At least when she eats her dwindling space rations, she can burn her fucking tongue off, due to Rietveld’s stubborn Dutch insistance to never listen to any rules, ever.

“Yes, but. We’ve heard all the drafts of the epic-length poem Yul-Bataar’s written to herald you with on your return.”

“Almost makes me want to die alone on Mars.”

“Hush up. We’ve already had to watch your funeral once. I even wrote a speech.”

“I better get a recording of that when I get back,” she says. “You better have cried. You better have wept over the untimely demise of Earth’s best meteorologist.”

“You better believe it was a speech for the ages. Wait, i can find a draft and read it-”

“Save it. I want to savour my death, after I know I’m gonna live.”

“This is next level Slav gallows humour. How many people get to watch their own funerals?”

Zoya Nazyalenskaya does not giggle, but the thought of all those puffed-up world leaders saying things about her importance, her intelligence, her beauty. (Will men see anything else?) Shedding a few tears about a brown, Jewish, Russo-Bengali meteorologist who’d they’d barely cared to listen to in her life, but here, dead, she’s the ultimate pawn in their games. . . .

It might make her laugh. Slightly.

And then she thinks about Aunt Liliyana and Lada sitting shiva for her in that flat in Haifa. The first thing she’d bought with her earnings after the ESA had taken her on was a nicer flat for the two of them, in walking distance to the sea.

“Lantsov,” she says, although it feels like exposing some part of herself she doesn’t want to recognise. “Lantsov, keep talking. Please.”

“Of course. What about?” “The crew’s first meal. Back on earth. What is it?”

“Zenik said red-velvet waffles with, quote, “a fuckton of whipped cream. An entire can of whipped cream.” Andreyev like a good Moldovan says it’s gotta be sarmale, and I swore Rietveld lives off coffee and the destruction of his enemies but I know he’s got a thing for nasi goreng and. . ..”

This is a dumbass long-shot solution that will probably get them all killed.

It takes a certain kind of long-shot nihilistic self-destruction to enter the airless murder void in the first place, but this is. ..

“The only thing that might work.”

Bo nods and then glares at him to shut up.

The ship’s got a big whiteboard, and Bo’s hands move almost as fast as his mouth does as he sketches, scribbles, draws, talks. They’ve got a direct, illegal, verboten, unknown, lifesaving link through to the CNSA, and as Kuwei’s the only native Mandarin speaker aboard, he’s the main one doing the talking. He’s a chemist, though, - Ghafa’s the pilot, Zhabin’s the chief navigator, and it’s a controlled frenzy of different langauges and disciplines as the crew hashes out the most wild rescue plan in human history.

“How do we know-”

“He’s the best astrodynamacist alive. Also, my dad, but-”

He, Zhabin, Ghafa and Rietveld all independently run the calculations.

Да, Да, हाँ, Ja.

“Who’s ready to go against the explicit instructions of five space agencies to bring the best space pirate alive back home?”

It was never even a choice.

“Zoya,” he says, over the link. “We’ll get you home.”

#zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #zoyalai #grishaverse #grishaverse modern au #the martian au #the martian #zoyalai fic #my writings #grishaverse fics #gen

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jaskiersbard · 7 years

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A Glimpse of Sunlight (Part 2) - A Newt/Tina fic

Tagging: @pinkdiamonddolphin

Alright, so I’ve referred to one of the many Jewish holidays that takes place in the fall (thanks to @loon-whisperer for the information – I hope I got it correct!) Also, because Tina is Jewish I’ve got the headcanon that the kids have been raised to be multi-faith – so they do take part and observe in Jewish holidays. This also means that, because of Hitler/the Holocaust/the Final Solution, there’s quite a bit of worry and anxiety for the family – while it may not be happening in England, it’s distressing to know it’s happening at all, and there’s also the “what if” of “what if Hitler wins/takes over?”.

This chapter is shorter, only a few sections, but all the same it’s a finish to the fic.

I hope you enjoy!

“So, what exactly seems to be the issue, Mrs Scamander?”

Tina shifted in her seat, suddenly rather uncomfortable. “Well…I took a pregnancy potion yesterday afternoon,” She began. “And…it was positive.”

The Healer was unperturbed. “And?”

She started to fidget with her fingers. “It shouldn’t have been.”

“Mrs Scamander, I can assure you now that not all contraceptive potions are completely effective – it does happen. Now, if that’s all-”

“No,” Tina interrupted quickly. “I’m…I’m sorry, I’m not explaining properly, I…” She took a deep breath, casting her eyes to the floor. “A few years ago, my husband and I were trying for another baby but…but we were told that, because of certain circumstances, it wouldn’t happen.”

The Healer took a moment to read from the notes on her clipboard before nodding to herself. “Let me see…Healer Jones wrote in her report that your womb is ‘inhospitable’, most likely due to the circumstances surrounding the birth of your youngest son: apparition and stress, it would appear. And yet, the result from the potion you took was most definitely positive?”

“Yes.”

The older woman took out her wand from her pocket. “Alright, dear; if you lie down on the bed in the corner, I’ll do an examination so that we can be sure. It shouldn’t take too long.”

As the Healer started to cast various spells and charms, Tina found herself wondering just what she’d do if it turned out she was pregnant; she was thirty-nine now, and while it didn’t seem that old it was still so close to forty. To add, the war wasn’t going to end any time soon, she was needed desperately at work and her three children were growing up quickly – Phoenix would be ten in less than a year, and before too long he’d be starting his first year at Hogwarts. She was all too aware of Hitler’s rise in power too; on his return back to England, Dawkins had told her that the Nazis were rounding up Jewish and other “undesirable” people – they were being transported to camps where they were either forced to work or killed upon arrival. The very idea made her feel absolutely sick to her stomach.

A new-born baby would complicate things tremendously.

It was only a few minutes later that the Healer stopped her examination, suddenly smiling widely. “Well, Mrs Scamander, it appears the potion you took was, in fact, correct.”

“You mean…”

“Yes, you’re indeed pregnant,” The Healer affirmed, reaching for her notes. “You’re roughly a month and a half along, by the looks of things – I’d need further tests to give you an exact due date, but I’d say some time around May next year.”

Tina’s head was swimming as she sat up, absolutely stunned by this information. “I don’t understand. We were told years ago that we couldn’t have another baby, that there was no chance of it happening…”

“Miracles do happen, dear, and this appears to be one of those times.” The Healer’s smile faded as she looked at the younger woman. “You don’t seem pleased, Mrs Scamander.”

“I…” She swallowed, unable to think of any words she could possibly say to describe how she was feeling. “I didn’t think we could, and now…I’m just…”

The Healer nodded in understanding. “It’s rather big news, I’ll admit, and it might take a while to fully comprehend. If you don’t mind me asking, does your husband know that you’re here today?”

“No, he’s with our children at home. He…” Tina gnawed on her lip anxiously. “He doesn’t know a thing.”

“Well, I suggest you speak to him about this – it’s going to be a bit of a shock, of course, and I’m sure that the two of you will want to discuss your options.”

“Options?”

The medi-witch hesitated, tilting her head. “Options…as in whether or not you decide to continue with the pregnancy.”

“O-Oh. Right.”

Tina felt her heart drop at the thought of terminating the pregnancy – never once had she ever considered doing such a thing. She was certain that Newt wouldn’t want her to either; he’d be adamantly against it, of course, though if it was something she wanted to do then he most likely wouldn’t stop her.

Mercy Lewis. What am I going to tell him?!

“Did you know, Mr Dawkins,” Linnet announced excitedly. “I’m going to be an Auror like Mummy!”

He couldn’t help but grin at her. “Oh yeah? Well, I’m sure the Ministry would love to hear that!”

Dawkins had always enjoyed visiting the Scamander family; he liked children in general, but the three Scamander children he had found himself to be especially fond of. It had been a few years since he’d last seen them, and they had all grown so much – Phoenix was going to be as tall as Newt, by the looks of things.

“This is Fuzzy!” Leo exclaimed, and he lifted his arms to show Dawkins the Kneazle. “He’s our pet!”

Fuzzy gave a low growl, flicking his plumed tail; clearly, he didn’t appreciate being picked up in such a way.

“I named him,” Linnet added.

A Kneazle seemed surprisingly tame compared to some of the other things he was sure the family were keeping: he already knew from Tina that there was a Niffler somewhere, and he’d seen the Hippogriff paddock for himself. He couldn’t help but smile as he reached to rub Fuzzy behind the ears. “Hello, there. Aren’t you cute?”

Fuzzy hissed, springing from Leo’s arms; the five-year-old just giggled and started to chase after him again.

“Dad says he’s not fond of strangers,” Phoenix informed him with a grin. “Don’t take it personally.”

“Nah, I won’t. How have you been, Phoenix?”

The boy shrugged. “I’m okay… I keep seeing things in the newspapers though. Mum and Dad think I don’t see it, but I do.” He paused, looking up at Dawkins with wide brown eyes – so like Tina’s. “Is it true? You know…that they’re rounding up Jewish families and sending them to camps?”

Dawkins honestly didn’t know whether to answer that honestly: he had no idea if Newt and Tina would want him to inform their children about such things – and they were quite horrific at that. He, himself, hadn’t seen the camps or anything but all of the Aurors had heard the stories: they had been barred from interfering now, instead told to focus on controlling Grindelwald’s forces…but he’d heard what was being done in those dreadful places, and it was enough to give him nightmares.

A nine-year-old boy would most certainly be traumatized if he knew the full extent.

“From what I’ve heard,” Dawkins said slowly. “Yes…You know who Hitler is, I take it?” The boy nodded. “Well, it’s true that his men are rounding up many different people and sending them away…gypsies, political enemies, homosexuals…”

“Jews,” Phoenix added quietly. “We’re part-Jewish, you know – Mum is Jewish.”

He knew that as well, of course – the Scamander family were multi-faith, and while they weren’t extremely religious they did still observe and celebrate the various holidays in their own way. Though he would deny it, part of the reason he had felt so sick hearing of what the Nazis were doing was down to knowing Tina herself was Jewish – the three children were “part-Jewish”, of course, though he was sure Hitler wouldn’t care to make that distinction at the end of the day.

“Yes,” Dawkins agreed finally. “They are sending Jewish people away too.”

By the time Newt entered the front room, levitating two mugs of tea and sending them to sit on the coffee table, the children had retreated outside to play; the Magizoologist looked slightly frazzled, tired even.

“I hope you don’t mind, but the tea is probably rather weak – milk and sugar are being rationed now.”

“It’s fine,” Dawkins assured him, reaching for one of the mugs as he took a seat. “Honestly, I’m just glad to get some tea – you don’t get to drink a great deal of it in the middle of a battleground, unfortunately.”

Newt sighed as he sat down as well, running a hand through his hair. “I’m afraid Tina’s not here at the moment – she had an errand to run, and I don’t know how much longer she’ll be.”

“I understand. It’s Sukkot this week, right? She’s probably getting building materials for…erm…”

“A Sukkah,” Newt finished, and the corners of his lips turned up. “It’s like a makeshift hut; she and the children do enjoy building them every year – it’s always been fun to see how they decorate it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t help?”

“I cook the meals – it’s traditional to have them at the beginning and end of Sukkot.”

“Ah.” Being honest, Dawkins didn’t know a great deal about Jewish holidays – only what he’d heard Tina talk about – and he didn’t know whether he really knew enough to carry on this conversation. “Well, that sounds like a great deal of fun; I’m sure the children love it. Other than that…how have you been?”

Newt frowned, all traces of joy disappearing quickly. “Fine, I suppose… The Ministry still wants me on the Eastern front, but I’ve made it clear I’m not going: I’m very much needed here.”

He didn’t need to explain what that meant: when Tina was called to fight (for it was a certainty she would be), he’d be the children’s sole parent and provider. The Scamanders had always had a way of bending gender roles like that.

“I see. I take it their letters have been rather…incessant?”

“Indeed,” Newt sighed, moving his mug so that he could take a sip. “It’s foolish to worry, I know, and usually I wouldn’t bother worrying but with the way things have been getting in Europe, I can’t help it.”

“We’ll beat Grindelwald,” Dawkins told him firmly, though he of course had no idea at all how the war would end. “England aren’t the only ones sending Auror teams in to fight, you know: sooner or later, we’ll beat him.”

The older man shook his head. “That’s not the only thing I’m concerned about – we’ve all heard the stories of Hitler and his…” He swallowed the lump in his throat, suddenly looking extremely unwell. “His Final Solution, as they call it.”

Dawkins felt a chill run through him at that phrase, a knot forming in his stomach. “I know,” He muttered. “It’s absolutely horrifying. I can’t even believe it’s happening…that he’s getting away with it…”

“Dawkins, you wouldn’t happen to know…” Newt hesitated. “I don’t mean to pry, but you wouldn’t perhaps know what exactly is going on? What exactly they’re doing? The newspapers here haven’t exactly been informative.”

That didn’t surprise him: censorship always omitted a number of facts, both in the muggle and the wizarding world.

“I don’t know a great deal either,” He admitted softly. “Just rumors. They’re not at all pleasant, Newt – they’re enough to give a grown man nightmares.”

“I want to know,” Newt affirmed, and when he looked up his eyes were somewhat teary. “Please, Dawkins, I know it’s awful – but a part of me needs to know.”

Dawkins carefully lowered his mug to the table, avoiding looking at the other man. “Remember, these are just rumors…it could be false information…” He took a deep breath. “I’ve heard that they’re sending people – undesirable people – away to camps. Some of them are put to work, hard manual labor, and others are…well.”

Newt had gone extremely grey as he carefully digested this news. “O-Oh. Right.”

“I’m sure it won’t spread over here,” He muttered quickly. “The muggles will get rid of Hitler soon enough – and if our war ends before theirs, I’m sure we’ll assist in any way we can. I wouldn’t worry too much, Newt.”

“It’s hard not to worry,” The Magizoologist mumbled, avoiding the other man’s gaze. “In case you’ve forgotten, my wife is Jewish and our children are considered to be as well.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Dawkins retorted, somewhat sharply. “I am fully aware, thank you very much.”

Newt paused, glancing back up at him; after a moment, he sighed. “I’m sorry – that was rather unnecessary for me to say. I’ve just been rather on edge lately, that’s all…”

“It’s alright,” The younger man allowed. “We’ve all been on edge, to be honest – I take it Tina told you I’m returning to Bulgaria tomorrow.”

“Yes. She’s been quite…” Newt pondered for a moment, trying to think of a satisfactory word. “She’s been quite morose all week – she’s worried for you, I believe.”

Of course she was; since the day he and Tina had been made partners, she’d made sure to watch his back if they were on missions, been his friend – it was no surprise she was worried for him really, and he greatly appreciated that.

Having said that, he couldn’t help but be concerned for her too.

The children were relatively easy to coax into bed that night, tired from a day full of helping with the creatures and playing in the vast garden outside; Linnet didn’t even put up her usual fight of staying awake, so exhausted that she was fast asleep even before Newt had finished tucking her underneath the covers. It had been a long day for all of the family, to be honest.

Tina was sitting up in bed when Newt entered the bedroom, dressed in her pajamas and reading a thick book; she didn’t look up as he changed into his own nighttime attire and dimmed the lights. It was only when he clambered into bed next to her, absolutely shattered and in desperate need of a good night’s sleep, that she slowly closed her book and trained her eyes on him.

“I…I need to tell you something.”

Newt’s gaze drifted to look at her, somewhat surprised. “Oh? What is it, dear?”

“Well, I…I…” She started to gnaw her lip, suddenly looking extremely worried. “Today, I wasn’t out running errands – I was at St. Mungo’s.”

“St… Merlin, whatever for?” He straightened up, perhaps more concerned than he necessarily should have been. “Is everything alright? You’re not sick, are you?”

Tina hesitated. “Not sick, but…but I haven’t been feeling well for the past week or so. I’ve been throwing up, and getting dizzy and…and I wanted to be sure.” She looked away from him quickly. “I don’t know how but…but the Healer did some tests, and…and I don’t know how this is possible…”

“Tina, love, tell me,” He prompted gently. “Please – if something’s wrong then I want to know.”

Her voice was no louder than a whisper. “She told me I’m pregnant.”

The world suddenly seemed to spin and crash around him at those words. “You’re…what? I don’t understand…”

“I’m pregnant,” She repeated quietly.

“But…But I thought…”

“I know. She was quite certain though.”

Newt sat back, mind trying to comprehend just what was going on: he didn’t understand how this was possible, to be quite honest, considering the circumstances.

“We’re going to have another baby?” He checked unsurely.

Tina nodded. “Yes, it appears so.”

“Well…Merlin,” He muttered, shaking his head to himself. “This is…certainly not what I was expecting.”

“I’m sorry.”

Newt frowned then, eyebrows furrowed. “Sorry? Why on Earth would you be sorry? This is…This is fantastic news.” His face suddenly lit up, as if it were finally sinking in fully. “Tina, this is wonderful news!”

“Maybe it is, but…but…” Tina looked at him, and he realized that she was close to tears. “But I’m scared, Newt; I read the newspapers and see what’s happening in Europe, what’s happening to so many people there and…and the idea of having a baby in the middle of that…” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

Hesitantly, so as to not alarm her, he placed a hand over her arm. “Tina…”

“What if Grindelwald wins?” She asked tearfully. “What if Hitler wins? What if he manages to beat us, and he overtakes the country? I know…I know what he thinks of people like me, what he thinks should be done about us. I worry every single day, Newt, about what will happen if he wins the war – I’ve had awful dreams about what might happen to the children, a-a-and…”

“Tina, love,” Newt murmured, taking her into his arms. “I know. I know, it’s awful and…and it makes me absolutely sick to think about what is happening over there… But we’re safe here, at least for now. As for Grindelwald…well, you know what the rumors are – he’s too afraid to attack here, too afraid of Albus Dumbledore to do such a thing. For now, we’re safe.”

“I’m not thinking about now,” Tina stated anxiously, and a tear made its way down her face. “I’m thinking about the future – I’m already so worried about our children, and another one would just make me worry even more. I don’t know if I can do it, Newt; bringing another baby into the world when I know about what could happen.”

Newt took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he rested his chin on top of her head. “I won’t let anything happen to our family, Tina. If it does happen – Grindelwald or Hitler winning, or even both – then, so be it, we’ll leave for somewhere safer. Neither of them could take over the entire world, surely.” He paused, and when he spoke again his voice had dropped an octave. “If you really don’t want to do this, then…then we don’t have to. There are ways we can…we can stop this. But, if you really want me to be honest with you, I don’t think this baby is a curse – I think it’s a miracle.”

Tina pulled away from him then, still rather teary-eyed, and seemed to study him; after a long moment, she gave a sniff. “Really? You…You really think that?”

“Absolutely,” He agreed honestly. “Tina, we were told we couldn’t have another baby, that it would never happen…and yet it has. Even though it shouldn’t have been possible, it’s happened.” He carefully placed a hand on her abdomen and smiled weakly. “I know you probably won’t agree, but this baby is a miracle – and it’s hope, too, hope for the future. This little life we’ve created…Merlin, we’ve done this against all of the odds.”

The wonderful thing about Newt was that he was so genuine about his feelings to her – he wasn’t lying about this in the slightest.

He was well and truly thrilled about this baby.

Tina’s eyes were blurred with tears again – but they were joyful this time, not sad. “Newt…”

“I mean it,” He reaffirmed eagerly. “This baby…Merlin, even saying it… We wanted this baby for so long, so desperately, and I know that it’s perhaps a few years later than we were hoping, that perhaps it’s not the best time, but…but I’m so undeniably happy.”

She beamed at him, absolutely radiant, and leaned forwards to wrap her arms around him. “You’re right…you’re absolutely right,” She agreed enthusiastically. “We’re having a baby…Mercy, we’re having a baby.”

Suddenly her worries seemed to have faded somewhat; they still hung in the back of her mind, of course, and they would perhaps remain there for some time – but now the news was really sinking in, what it meant…and she couldn’t help but feel euphoric.

“I love you,” Newt mumbled, pulling away so that he could press kisses to her face. “You absolutely wonderful, brilliant woman…I love you.”

Tina couldn’t help but laugh, resting her forehead against his. “Yes…I love you too.”

Just so you all know, I am pro-choice; if you want an abortion, then you should be able to have the choice to have one. It’s not something I believe I would personally choose, but I believe every woman should have the choice nonetheless. Just thought I’d clarify that in case!

There’ll be a fic dealing with the actual pregnancy/birth at some point, I’m sure (this is me we’re talking about here), so…look out for it! :)

#newt x tina #newt x porpentina #this is awful i'm sorry #miracle baby #newt scamander #tina goldstein #porpentina goldstein #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #newtina #fantastic beasts and where to find them #angst #angst with a happy ending #ofc #Phoenix scamander #linnet scamander #Leo Scamander

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