#it’s also bringing up old emotions that’s adding fuel to the crying fire

[baby-prophet]

not me crying over writing an email to an old professor bc I’m embarrassed :(

#like maybe I shouldn’t ask her to write me a letter of recommendation #especially after what happened #but she was one of the only professors I like connected with #but I let her down :( #wish I could just get over myself #norm.allie #it’s also bringing up old emotions that’s adding fuel to the crying fire

[ask19thcentury-doctorgilbert]

Hey there! I thought I’d answer this ooc because Gilbert would never give a straight answer to these questions and after last night’s post I’m really down to talk more in depth about the doc’s mental health.

But before I dive into that, I just wanted to say thank you? I’m really glad to know that you think I do a good job at handling the portrayal of his mental health struggles, that really means a lot and is one of the best compliments I’ve been given ;v; I try to be as realistic and sensitive as I can and I’m glad to know that it pays off!

Alright, onto some headcanon rambling. Fair warning, this post is long and I go off into several tangents sdjjkds

Trigger warnings for the content below: depression, anxiety, suicide, childhood neglect / abuse, self-harm, and bad coping habits.

There’s at least 6 points in Gil’s life wherein his mental health was at its worst: the death of his father, the majority of his duchy years, frederick’s death, the napoleonic era, the entire stretch of the gdr era, and those years between the fall of the wall and him leaving to go to university in Zurich. I can write an entire post about each of those times, but for the sake of answering these asks, I’ll be focusing mainly on the first point and his crusader years.

To answer the first question, I think Gilbert’s first major depressive episode happened when he was a child after his adoptive father, Otmar Beilschmidt, died. He was a constant, comforting presence in the boy’s early life; someone he knew he can depend on and turn to if things ever got too scary or overwhelming. Even after he got ‘turned’ into a representative and the heads of the Order formally took him in, little Gisil still kept being stuck to his father’s hip. And Otmar, as unsettled as he was to find out that his son was suddenly some kind of miracle child, did his best to come to terms with it and help his son cope with his new nature too.

(Slightly off topic side note but I always had the idea that Otmar never really got over reacting with shock whenever he witnessed anything that confirmed that his son wasn’t fully human anymore, like watching a small scratch stitch itself back together. Gisil, being a perceptive and sensitive child, would catch on to that quick and I’m 100% sure he’s asked his father if he was afraid of him before. To which I’m sure Otmar told a half-truth and said that no, he wasn’t afraid of him --- After all, how could he be afraid of someone that God created to bring some good into the world?)

Either way, the sudden loss of that steady, dependable figure in his life really knocked Gisil’s world out of balance and triggered his first major depressive episode. He wouldn’t eat much at mealtimes and found it hard to sleep at night which would then translate into the kid being far more irritable and restless than usual during the day; prone to tantrums and crying if something didn’t go his way. But instead of someone sitting down and trying to understand why he was acting out, he was chastised for acting the way he did; told that he was allowed to grieve his father, but he had to be more mature about it and behave better. Not wanting to disappoint the adults who would be looking after him now, Gisil taught himself how to swallow back the hurt and put a lid on it. It didn’t make him hurt any less, in fact it may have started to translate into physical symptoms like a mildly upset stomach or a headache, but it didn’t bother anyone and his new parental figures seemed to approve so he just came to accept that it must be the right thing to do.

While he eventually got over the worst of the pain relating to his father’s death (or at least learned how to stuff it far enough in the back of his mind that he could pay it no mind) those symptoms continued to quietly haunt him. Mikael was prone to having trouble sleeping in the night (and he often passes the time by practising his writing, or sometimes he’ll get up and sneak out of the sleeping quarters to just sit in the chapel. sometimes praying, sometimes just sitting quietly and hoping that the silence and the coolness coming from the stone walls would somehow lull him to sleep) and to having days where he acts more hot-headed and impulsive than usual. 

The disconnect between desperately wanting to be the ‘good’ person he believes he was created to be and some of the awful things the Order has done to do ‘good’ in the name of God also feeds into that depression and anxiety, especially when he keeps bottling it up because he really has no one to talk to about these things and because that’s what he’s used to doing. This internal conflict will eventually bubble over in his Duchy years, a period of time where Gilbert’s whole mental and emotional well-being was incredibly fragile. (If you wanna read more about what happened during that time, I have an old post about it here. Trigger and content warnings are at the very beginning!)

As for the second question, I think it’s safe to say Gilbert was messed up by essentially being a child soldier. Physical damage doesn’t stay long but the mental/emotional damage was extensive.

Even if his first depressive episode was triggered by his father’s death, the things he saw and experienced during his time as the representative of the Teutonic Order, definitely helped to make things worse. All the bad habits and symptoms he experienced in his youth continue to haunt him until adulthood. Gilbert would still rather brush someone’s concern off with an ‘I’m fine’ coupled with a reassuring smile than risk bothering them with whatever he’s dealing with. Since staying with Konrad and Reiner (who have their own struggles that deserve its own post) he’s learned to open up a little more with enough prompting, but he’d still much rather keep his problems to himself. He still regularly struggles with insomnia that gets worse when he finds himself in a slump, which then translates to frustration, irritability, and a tendency to neglect self care like forgetting to eat. He’s struggled with suicidal thoughts before and has made an attempt on two occasions: once in his Duchy years, the other right after the Napoleonic Era came to a close.

I think another thing that really added fuel to the fire is just the nature of Gil’s existence? Like most nations in his generation have had the chance to just roam around being children in their childhood, some might have even been cared for by the ancients, but he’s never had any of that? He had 10 years of it as a regular human child and then another 8 years after he was ‘turned’ of simply tending to sick and injured pilgrims. He had only 18 years of relative normalcy before he was thrown into a life of constant war, made out to be some holy figurehead, while I feel like most others had much longer. His ability to compartmentalize, to separate the self from the nation, was lacking compared to others in his cohort because he was just so young, physically and in nation years, when he was thrown into the mess. He’s a child nation who’s still young enough to remember his life as a human, to remember what it’s like to think and feel and to fear like a human and I think that messed with his ability to cope. Templar and Hospitaller might be the only ones who can understand what that was like since I think they were thrown into the fire relatively quickly after they were turned as young kids, but Ezekiel is far away and Sanson... Well, we all know what happened to poor Sanson.

The good news is, in the modern day, he is doing so much better since he started regularly meeting with a therapist and getting on the right medication regimen. It took him a while to really accept the fact that he needs help, even if logically he knew this was the right thing to do. There are still bad days but the genuinely good days far outnumber them now and that’s worth the uphill climb that is trying to sort out his issues.

#answered #[ headcanon ] #aph prussia #hws prussia #gilbert beilschmidt #depression tw // #anxiety tw // #suicide tw // #self harm tw // #childhood neglect tw // #gilbert looks put together on the outside but #he's really that image of the china cabinet with all the dishes pressed against the door #and if you open it everything's just gonna come crashing down #but he tries to do better #and tries his goddamn best not to repeat the bad parts of his upbringing #when it comes to raising his boy #in fact he tried so hard that he messed it up BUT #thats a conversation for another day

[gxldencielo]

Angel In Disguise- Part 3

Masterlist

Part 3:

Warning: Trigger Warning- Emotional Abuse ( I AM VERY SORRY IF THIS IS TRIGGERING TO SOME... PLEASE FORGIVE ME!)  Words: 3.5K

 “This is, perhaps, the greatest risk we will take- to be seen for who we really are.”- The Wicked Stepmother (Cinderella).

Around 4 o’clock your lunch session with Chris was over, he ends up paying for the meals even if you argued about being able to pay for your lunch, he didn’t let you. After, paying the bill Chris calls Johnathan telling him to come to pick you guys up. When he gets there both of you stand up, you put on your trench coat picking up all your belongings then grabbing your tote bag walking out with Chris.

 “Thank you for bringing me out to lunch Chris, I had a lot of fun. I needed this.” You say looking up at him and smile.

“Your welcome angel, I had a good time, and thank you for an amazing company.” He says putting his arm around your waist walking to the car. Your eyes widen quickly looking away and feeling yourself tensing up. Chris opens the car door for you, thanking him you go inside the car Chris follows right behind you sitting right next to you.

“Where to now Mr. Evans?” Johnathan asks looking back at the both of you.

“We’ll be taking Y/N home now, then to my office,” Chris says. Johnathan nods and asks you, “Ms. Y/N what is your address?” He asks turning on the GPS in the car. You give him your address and he starts the drive to your house.

“So, angel I was thinking since we will be attending the gala together, we should match a bit. I will be sending you a couple of dresses so you can pick from them.” Chris says looking at you smiling.

“You don’t have to Chris; I can go shopping for the dress myself. You don’t need to send any.” You say shyly not looking at him. “Angel look at me, please. I want to. You have worked so hard planning this event. You deserve all of it.” He says making you look at him while looking into your eyes. You look at him not saying anything just nodding your head. You couldn’t say anything because you were such in shock that this just happened. He winks at you leaning a little closer to you. Before, anything happens Johnathan stops the car and looks back at the both of you announcing you are home. Moving back, you breathe heavily and bite your lip, Chris smirks moving away from you.

“T-Thank you for today Chris, I’ll see you Saturday for the Gala. Bye.” You say softly quickly getting out of the car shook that you guys had a moment. You didn’t even let him have a chance to say bye. You go inside leaning against the door smiling softly walking towards the kitchen you see your nanny Mary, walking over to her you wrap your arms around her. Mary smiles at the feeling and turns around smiling at you.

“Hello, my darling, how was your day?” She says hugging you back, “what’s got you smiling so much?” She asks pulling away a bit looking at you.

“Oh Mary, I had such a great day today. I have to tell you all about it.” You sit on the breakfast stool as Mary sits down next to you while you tell her everything that has been going on. She squeals happily hearing about the moment you had with Chris today and holds your hand. “Darling that’s great! He sounds perfect! Saturday is going to be just perfect. Your mother will be so happy to hear about this if she were here.” She says kissing your hands looking at you. You nod feeling yourself getting sad.

“I wish she was here Mary.” You say looking down.

“She is here,” she says pointing to your locket, “your mother is always here.” Mary smiles softly kissing your forehead you smile fake and nod. The moment was interrupted when you heard someone scratching their throat. You look behind Mary seeing Lucinda standing there with a serious face and Stella standing next to her mother with a smirk on her face.

“Y/N. I need to have a word with you now.” Lucinda says sternly walking into the living room you nod and get up nervously following them.

Lucinda looks at you and says, “as you know the gala is this Saturday and we will all be attending.” She says looking at you. You nod your head and start fidgeting with your fingers nervously.

“I spoke to your father today and he decided that Stella will be attending with Mr. Evans.” She says smirking softly putting her hands on her waist looking at you. You look at her and your eyes widen, “but I-I,” you don’t even try to complete the sentence because you can’t change anything about it.

“Your father believes it will be better for Stella and Chris to attend together with Stella being a model and all the company will be getting even more publicity.” She says, “I also saw you today at lunch with Mr. Evans. I suggest you don’t ever do that again Y/N because it will cause you a lot of consequences. You should know that by now my sweet.” She tells you to sit right next to Stella.

Stella looks at you and smirks, “I really don’t know why you keep trying so hard to impress everyone around you. Just because you went to NYU doesn’t mean shit to anyone and you know that. Even dad doesn’t care.” She says adding fuel to the fire.

You swore it didn’t hurt much. You were lying to yourself and everyone in the room knew it, but you were hoping that she would stop. You tried to block out was she was saying to you but somehow this time you couldn’t block them out. Why was it getting to you now? You thought to yourself. Her words were like daggers stabbing you every single time. Your thoughts were interrupted by her vicious voice.

“Y/N, why do you think your father still keeps you around. He keeps you around because he pities you and he has no other choice but to act as he wants you here.” Your stepmother says to you while standing up sitting right next to you. “He will never love you as much as he loves Stella.” She whispers in your ear smirking softly.

 You are trying to keep your composure, but you couldn’t help the tears that were forming in your eyes. All you could do was nod your head. Lucinda and Stella laugh.

“Now that we have cleared the air on everything. Let me remind you, I know you wouldn’t like anything to happen to your mothers’ box, right? Remember I can easily just get rid of everything that’s in it.” Lucinda says patting your shoulder, “Stella sweetheart, come on we have to let your father know that you will be going with Mr. Evans to the gala.” Stella squeals following her mother.

You stood on the couch waiting for both Lucinda and Stella to leave, your heart broke when you heard the door close. You sniffle softly and getting up with tears rolling down your eyes swiftly walking to your bedroom. Why? you thought to yourself. You start to take off your clothes, putting them away when done going straight to your bathroom turning on your shower. When the water hits your body that’s when you feel yourself break down. You cry out as if you were in pain. You have been dealing with this type of behavior since Lucinda married your father. Your father didn’t know, and you couldn’t tell him about it.

How can someone who was best friends with your mom do this to you? How can someone who basically treated your mother like family to this? You always thought to yourself. She was supposed to be a mother figure in your life after your mom’s death and she is far from it. Lucinda and Stella Smith both came into your life when you were exactly 11 years old. All you remember was your dad coming home the happiest had ever been from one of his trips in Japan. Seeing how ecstatic your father was about finding the love you felt as if your life was falling back into place after the death of your mother. However, that wasn’t the case. The once happy girl that her father loved dearly became the ugly duckling in her family. The fairytale evil stepmother from the fairytale was your reality. Moments like these you wish your mother was still alive to hug you and kiss you in comfort. You wish your father knew what was going on for years, you wish you had told him when this has started.

After taking a nice bath you hear a knock on the door.

“Come in,” you say softly. You see Mary with a frown on her face.

“My darling, I’m so sorry that you still have to deal with this.” She says softly sitting on your bed. You frown and shrug your shoulders, “it’s okay Mary, I’m used to it.” You say going into your walk-in closet quickly putting on your pajamas.

“It’s not okay my sweet. I’ve brought you chamomile tea, to calm you down.” Mary says you can hear her preparing the tea for you and hands it to you when she finishes.

“Thank you, Mary.” You say softly sipping your tea slowly.

 “I’m so sorry darling, I’m sorry they do this all the time.” She says sniffling.

 You frown putting your tea on the nightstand shifting yourself to lay down on Mary’s lap and you can’t help but start crying again. Mary starts to play with your hair as you cry on her lap. Mary is wishing to take the pain away from you and endure it all for you. Eventually calming down at Mary’s touch. She sighs kissing your temple.

  “I-I won’t be coming down for dinner Mary. You say closing your eyes.

“Okay, darling get some sleep for me. Alright.” She says looking down at you. You nod shifting back to the side where you sleep.

 “I will.” You say with a fake smile. Mary kisses your forehead standing up and walking out of your bedroom bidding you goodnight. You sigh. How am I supposed to tell Chris about the changes? I don’t want to upset him at all.

Tears start to form in your eyes again. Sadness overcoming you, you felt as if the world was crashing against you. Trying to make yourself not cry you start to play with your necklace.

 “I wish you were here mom; I miss you every day.” You cry out softly into a deep slumber.

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

It was finally Saturday, the day of the Gala. You met with the party planner to get all the details straight for that night, you had to make sure the invitations were sent out to every individual party, you had to make sure that Chris’s team was up to date with everything such as the schedule for that night and lastly making sure that your dad had his speech ready for that night as well.

“Everything looks so beautiful Emily. Thank you for your patience.” You say looking around at how everything is coming out so far.

 “Oh, dear please, you told me what you wanted, and I delivered.” Emily says winking at you causing you to let out a giggle, “now my dear head home and start to get ready, the gala will be starting soon, and I need my start coordinator and planner to look beautiful.” Emily shushes you away laughing pushing you towards the exit even with you arguing. Emily says her goodbye running to the florist who has just arrived shouting at them to where the flowers belong.

The drive home was quick, as you step inside the house you saw the hecticness coming into full effect. Stella’s stylist walking around with dresses and shoes, her makeup artist going crazy over what makeup look will she do, her hairstylist trying to finish on her. ­­­­You wave at everyone and quickly walk away so that Lucinda doesn’t assume that you are trying to steal Stella’s spotlight. Before you can step into your room, you hear your father calling you from his office sighing deeply you walk to his office.

“Y/N, sweetheart your home. How is the gala looking?” Your father asks walking up to you hugging you. “Well dad, it's looking great, you will see when you get there.” You say fake smiling at him.

 “I’m proud of you darling, you did well under pressure. Tonight, it’s going to be worth it.” He says looking at you and kisses your forehead. You nod your head and looking at him with a forced smile as you kiss your father on the cheek walking out and straight to your bedroom. While setting everything down on the nearest chair, your phone begins to ring; you quickly pick it up and hear Rose’s voice on the other line.

Rose: Y/N, I am just letting you know that the makeup artist, hairstylist, and dress designer will be on their way to your house to help you get ready.

Y/N: But I thought they were already here for Stella only; I was going to just wear a suit for tonight since-

Rose: Oh no darling. Mr. Evans has everything planned out down to the tea. You won’t have to worry about the dress, hair or makeup. They are already heading to your house. See you at the gala.

Rose hangs up, setting down your phone near your nightstand. Wow, you thought to yourself, he really did all of that for me. You couldn’t believe it. You never had anyone do that for you. It was a new feeling for you. Smiling to yourself walking to the bathroom taking a quick shower and get your hygiene done. You put on a robe and walk out of the bathroom. “Her room is on this side.” You hear Mary’s soft voice outside your bedroom. Someone softly knocks on your door.

“Oh, darling. We are here to get you ready for the gala.” A gentle voice calls outside the door.

“Come on in.” You answer back. They all step in smiling at you.

“I hope you are ready darling, I’m Patrick Ta, and will have you looking marvelous for tonight.” He tells you to walk towards your vanity setting everything up. You sit down by your vanity and they all get to work. At around 6:30pm your makeup and hair were both done.

“Ta-da, darling you look marvelous, spectacular, divine.” He tells you to move away from the mirror. Your eyes widen, you did look different in a good way though. You started to feel confident. Your makeup and hair looked flawless; you couldn’t believe it was you.

“Patrick, thank you so much! This is great!” You say hugging him smiling widely.

“Darling, you’re welcome. It was an honor to do your makeup. Now let’s finish you up so you can head to the gala.” He helps you up from the chair leading you to the stylist. “This dress was specifically picked by Mr. Evans.” Tyler the stylist says, “you have nothing to worry about beautiful.” He says winking at you. You shake your head playfully giggling softly. Patrick helps Tyler bringing the mannequin with the dress towards you. It took your breath away, a one-shoulder emerald, green gown with a black flower embraided into the dress but it all came together. Both Tyler and Patrick take the dress off the mannequin and help you put it on as well for the accessories and shoes. After everything was on you couldn’t believe it was you. You looked like a goddess your confidence was now on a 1000 and tonight was going to be your night.

“Yes, slay my life baby!!!!” Patrick and Tyler say excitedly, and you just start giggling. It was almost time to go, Patrick and Tyler bid their goodbye leaving you alone in your room. Pacing around a bit trying to get rid of your nerves, breathing in and out calming down a bit grabbing your gold handbag and phone. You walk out of your bedroom hearing Lucinda arguing with Stella as she is throwing a tantrum while your father is trying to calm down the situation. You roll your eyes mumbling, “like always Stella has to find a way to make tonight more complicated.” Heading towards the living room-clearing your throat.

“Excuse me, but the gala is soon starting and dad you need to be there for the press photos and the opening speech.” You say softly interrupting the argument.

Your father looks at you relieved, “ah yes! Thank you darling we must go now enough arguing let's go!’ Your father says fixing his suit jacket and walking away and out the house calling for the chauffeur. You look at Lucinda and Stella who are fuming because you interrupted the argument but follow your father out of the house. You walk behind them quietly waving at Mary. As soon as the limo arrives you all quickly get in and start heading to the MET. Looking out the window you start to nervously play with fingers and hoping to yourself that you will not screw up tonight. You remind yourself of Lucinda’s threat...

“Let me remind you, I know you wouldn’t like anything to happen to your mothers’ box, right? Remember I can easily just get rid of everything that’s in it.”

“So tonight, you better not screw up!” You think to yourself. Nothing can happen to that box! Just nothing. After a couple of minutes, you hear the driver say you guys are there. Your fathers out taking Lucinda and Stella’s hand walking on the beige carpet. They start to smile at the paparazzi whose flashing cameras can blind anyone nervously posing you feel someone's arm around you and whispering in your ear, “remember what I said. Tonight, you stay away from Mr. Evans and if you don’t the box will be gone by tonight.” She whispers into your ear and smiles at the camera making you look and fake smile and nervously pose with her. As the pictures are finishing up you walk next to your father avoiding eye contact with anyone. You lead them into the Garden of Safe Haven, your father praised you loudly and gave you a big hug and a kiss on the forehead. Smiling widely, you kiss your father on the cheek and see the photographer capturing that moment. You all walk in the gala and it was like a scene out of the Great Gatsby everything turned out as planned and you were proud. The flowers blooming everything the angel statues looking elegantly the serves matching the theme, everything was up to par.

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard someone shout.

“Y/F/N! You have finally arrived!” You hear that familiar voice angelic voice say looking away from the cameras and at him. It was Chris. You feel yourself getting even more nervous and you quickly look away when you feel a set of eyes land on you. He was looking at you and you just had to look away for Stella. Stella squeals and jumps into his arms. “Chrissy Poo!” you hear her say. Your father and Lucinda laugh at her, “she's so cute isn’t she Mr. Evans.” Lucinda evilly looking at you.

“I guess. Y/N is finally nice to see you again. The dashing dress I must say.” He says looking into your eyes. You nod your head looking at what he is wearing. He has purposefully matched his suit with yours and for sure now you knew, you were in deep shit.

“Dashing dress? HA! Chris stop boosting her ego. She doesn’t need it.” Stella says bitterly holding onto him. Your father tells her to stop and not to start. You excuse yourself away from them.

Surrounded by people and their noise, you felt alone. Hearing these people talk about business and their questions drowning out your racing thoughts, and for few moments your breathing slowed, and your mind cleared. Who knew peace could emerge in the middle of a party? It was exactly what you needed. The music was so loud the crowd couldn’t even talk above it. It looked like everyone was silently mouthing words around you. You feel someone's presence around you, looking back you see its Chris. Biting your lip, you turn away and you hear a deep laugh.

“So, this is what we're doing now angel you're ignoring me now,” Chris says walking next to you.

You nod your head, “you are here with Stella, Mr. Evans I should not even be speaking to you right now.” You say softly looking away from him.

“Well, I don’t know about that, but Stella seems pretty occupied to me angel.” He points in her direction, seeing her drink back-to-back shots with her friends. Shaking your head, you look away.

“Now that’s something I have to clear up by the morning with the tabloid.” You say softly and hear Chris let out a loud laugh. “Let your father deal with it.” He says and holds out his hand, “let's go to our table, you and I need to have a long talk.” Chris says as you bit your lip walking with him discreetly holding his hand.

The angel has decided to play with fire… hell … you aren’t ready for what's about to happen.

#angel in disguise #ceo!chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans imagines #chris evans x reader #ceo chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #Jerilys Writes ❤️ #Chris Evans

[be-ace-write-crime]

Lovely Bride - Second Wedding Night

You wake up after your night with Wamuu and return to your empty village, the last survivor of the Hamon tribe. You struggle with conflicting emotions, anger to the people that made you a sacrificial lamb, grief for the tribe that raised you and the people you grew up with. So much has happened in such a short time and nothing will ever be the same again.

Thankfully Esidisi is there to comfort you.

You and Wamuu made love all night and you suspect a decent portion of the morning as well, after the candles had burned out. He took care to clean the sweat, cum and oil off your skin, probably realizing how badly he had wrecked your body after the fact. He put your wreath aside and let you snuggle up in his bed with some clean pillows, and you fell asleep almost instantly.

The stress and your rendezvous with the first pillarman had thoroughly exhausted you. You woke up alone, a single candle left to light the room for you. It hadn’t been lit for long. Maybe an hour or two? Either way, the room had become stuffy, smelling of sex and burnt out candles, so even if you couldn’t get outside, you weren’t staying in this room.

You picked up your dress, your sandals, and combed your hair with a comb left on the table beside the one remaining light. You were about to leave the room when you thought to put your wreath back on, as your first husband clearly appreciated the look and symbolism of it. You also thought to bring a dagger that was on display as one of Wamuu’s trophies. You knew he wouldn’t mind you taking it and while you were neither scared your betrothed would eat you, nor did you have the hubris to assume you could take them in a fight if you had a dagger, being sent around the lair of vampires and vengeful gods unarmed had been making you nervous since yesterday. With the sheathed dagger tucked into the belt around your waist you venture into the hallway.

The candle light didn’t reach very far, but far enough you can see a faintly shifting silhouette in the shadows leading deeper into the catacombs. Very well, not like you wanted to go there and the squirmy shadows of what had to be vampires only helped to solidify that decision. You looked over your shoulder constantly as you made your way back outside. The hatch had been left open, though the early evening light made it too dangerous for the pillarmen or the vampires to be out.

Every step into the light felt like a wave of relief. You blew out your candle and left it on the steps, almost running outside. It wasn’t until you felt the breeze blowing through the temple that you noticed the trails of tears on your face. You rarely cried, but indeed, you had much to cry about. Tears of relief, happiness and sadness alike.

The sun kissing your face felt heavenly and you could have probably stood there until the sunset, if a warm chuckle hadn’t pulled you out of your thoughts. You wiped your tears away and looked to see Esidisi at the bottom of the stairs, just barely visible in the shade.

“You look beautiful like that,” he said. “I look forward to the day I can embrace the sun by your side,” he added, casting a mournful glance at the shadows edge he couldn’t cross. It seemed so strange that someone as powerful as him was unable to touch you simply because you were standing in the sunlight.

“I wish I could share it with you,” you said, without thinking.

“You do?” he asked, looking up at you again. He seemed surprised.

“I wouldn’t deny anyone the sun… It would be cruel…” you said, shyly running a hand through your hair as he graced you with a warm smile.

“Such a kind heart after all you’ve endured,” he said. “Your village is still there, though you will find it deserted. I assume that’s where you were headed.”

“I just wanted some fresh air, but… now that you mention it, I would like to go there,” you agreed.

“Go ahead. I will catch up to you once the sun has set,” Esidisi said, leaning against the wall and waiting out the daytime.

You nodded and went ahead as we’d told you to do. From what you’d gathered he was the second in command, higher than Wamuu in their hierarchy, but below Kars. He was the one to second your plea for your sister and nieces to be spared. You would have to ask him about them later.

The way down to your village was eerily quiet. Normally you’d hear some noise, see the lights from cooking fires and candles, but the place was abandoned as you’d been warned it would be. The gods had come down from the mountain and wiped out all the people that once resided here, leaving the empty shell of your birthplace behind. In the village square there was a table laid out for a banquet, big enough for the whole village.

Wild animals and some escaped livestock had made their own feast of it in the absence of the humans during the day, but everything looked as if your people just vanished into thin air. Cups and cutlery strewn about, food and wine on the tables, homes untouched. No time to pack up and flee, no time to get the weapons and fight, just a meal, over as soon as it began.

You had been crying since you first stepped outside, but seeing with your own two eyes how the people you called your tribe would be gone forever made you sob hysterically. The ones that had raised you, loved you, and then sent you off to die had all been killed, leaving you alone to mourn them.

“C-Celebrating, were you?!” you spat angrily at the empty table. Wild dogs and other pests had dragged the meat away, while half eaten and picked at fruit, vegetables and pastries were being consumed by flies. A few birds scattered as you approached and dragged a metal tray off the table, leaving it to clatter against the cobblestones of the square. The plates were next, smashed at your feet or hurled like disks to burst into shards of earthenware against the walls of empty homes.

One pitcher full of wine was miraculously untouched on the table, at least until you found it. Booze would either calm you down or be a perfect fuel to your fire. You chugged half the damn vase to quench your thirst either way.

“Was it worth it?! Were all of us you sent to die worth it, you bastards?!” you demanded, climbing on the table and hurling the serving blows around, kicking everything off that was in your way.

“How many idiots does one village need?!” you spat at the empty head chair, picking up the plate and yeeting it with a perfect spin in the direction you came from. It would have gone far if your husband hadn’t caught up to you by then, batting at the dish reflexively, only to have it shatter in his face like shrapnel.

You tried to compose yourself quickly. Surely throwing a plate at his face would warrant killing you, he’d killed for less, you were throwing a tantrum in the evidence of that fact, but you knew he wasn’t going to. For one not to go against Kars, but also because the look on his face was far from the righteous fury that should have been there.

You were standing on a table, leftover food and sauce on the ends of your dress and up to your ankles, ugly crying like a fussy child, but Esidisi merely brushed the stone splinters from his hair and handed you the big carving knife you had somehow stepped over.

“Don’t stop on my account, dear (Y/N). In fact, if I can assist you in any way, do not hesitate to tell me,” he said, smiling calmly.

“I could stab you with this, you know?” you asked, sniffling loudly.

“That dagger would be better for stabbing, but you could,” he agreed, looking up at you. “If it would make you feel better, I would let you. I remember needing to vent for weeks after my own tribe was wiped out. How lord Kars put up with me during that time is beyond me, but I am infinitely grateful he did,” he explained, leaving himself open for an attack.

You contemplated doing it for several long moments, even raising the knife over your head, but ultimately deciding against it. You weren’t scared he would retaliate or punish you, but in the end you saw no point in harming the one person showing you kindness in that moment. You tossed the knife away and kicked some more tableware around like an angry cat.

“‘S no point… just no point in… a-anything I do, is there? W-What am I gonna do now? What need do you have for a human? Just gonna live underground for a… a month and then die like everyone here!!!” you sobbed, hiding your face, which must have been a huge mess by then. Right now he certainly wasn’t sympathising with you because of your good looks.

“You will live, you will grow stronger and wiser and live out the full extent of your life. You alone will carry the legacy of your people. You will be our agent in achieving perfection and when we do we shall forever embrace the light of day beside you,” he answered, holding you against his chest and stroking your back softly.

If you muttered something along the lines of ‘lying bastard’ he kindly ignored it and let you finish crying.

“You were right, you know. The best men and women your village had to offer were the first to die. I believe after your sister and her daughters left, there was hardly any goodness left among them. They took two old horses and a small cart and were practically chased out under threat of being stoned to death. I handed them the box lord Kars said to give them after they had departed, fearing it might be stolen from them. Don’t tell, but I informed them you were alive and what you had done. Your sister cried, as she had done all evening, then brandished a spear at me and said for me to treat you better than your people had treated you,” he said, letting you sob into his shoulder until you ran out of steam. You were probably dehydrated too and seriously hungry.

“Every person worth their salt here seems to think the world of you. Your sister risking her life to threaten me, the tribe’s warriors who died to protect you, lord Kars who saw your shine even in your darkest hour.”

“Everyone else here seemed to think I was fairly expendable,” you huffed bitterly.

“They seemed to think sacrificing you would save all of their lives. They were slaughtered for treating you so cruelly, beloved, but they knew you were the greatest treasure they had to offer,” he corrected, picking you and setting you down now that you had recovered.

Crying like that really did make you feel better. You were never allowed a tantrum of such epic proportions before, just shy of stabbing your husband, while he supported you through every second of it.

“Speaking of treasure,” he said, a sly smile on his face. “This is a small village, but it seems wealthy enough. There is no one left to care for its worldly possessions now,” he said, quirking a brow to emphasize his mischievous intentions. Well, mischief by the standards of a wrathful, mass murdering god. If two days ago someone had told you you’d essentially be pillaging your own home, stealing from the dead, you’d have thought they were crazy.

“You’re not… wrong…” you agreed. His smile was contagious, and you found yourself going along with his idea.

The full moon was high in the sky and the tables and chairs in the square had been repurposed to light a bonfire with his magic. You knew how and where money was hidden and Esidisi caught on to the pattern quickly.

“Go fetch your own treasures, darling. Vampires could do this,” he said, whistling to summon a few and instructing them on how to search.

You could name a few things you wanted, but never dared to ask for. Now you were the sole heir to the hamon tribe and your husband ordered you to fetch whatever treasure you desired, so who were you to disobey?

As such you met him later in the town square, decked out in enough jewelry to sink your body to the bottom of a river, a silk dress in a vibrant wine red color and a stola to match, while your palla, a scarf reserved for upperclass women of Rome, was now a makeshift bag for numerous scrolls you had stolen, detailing the history and craft of your people. Those were all going with you and you’d guard them with your life.

You were still bitter about what your people had done to you. You might always carry some resentment for the rest of your life, but the warriors of your tribe had given their lives to save those selfish creatures and you wouldn’t allow them and their sacrifice to be dismissed by history just because the people they fought to protect were ungrateful bastards.

Your haul made for an odd little collection of treasure. You had also taken to wearing the shiny, gold anklets you found. These were typically reserved for the… courtesans of your village. The women who kept themselves standing by laying on their backs. They were frowned upon by common folk, but were considered desirable nonetheless. There was no one left now to judge you for your dress being too short or the anklets you wore with your wreath and your dagger.

You were the last living member of the Hamon tribe and a bride to gods. Dressed in all gold, or wearing nothing at all would make you no less of a queen.

“Master Esidisi?” you greeted him upon finding him again. He quickly smiled when he saw you, but you could tell something had happened.

“You look beautiful by the light of the fire as you do in the daylight, my dear,” he said, standing up and coming to welcome you.

You noticed at least one of the vampires had… well it had died, but you couldn’t phantom what had happened to it. It looked like it had blown up and then melted. “Don’t worry about that thing. It decided to berate me when it couldn’t find what I had ordered it to search for.”

“What was it supposed to search for?” you asked. It probably wasn’t anything you’d picked up. The scrolls had all been in plain sight and you didn’t need to search hard for fine clothes and jewelry.

“The chief of your village had come into possession of a precious red stone, called the Aja. I ordered the vampires to search his home for it, but they found nothing,” he explained.

“Tsk, as if that cowardly bastard would hide anything you might look for in his own house,” you muttered, jumping when you realized what you had just done. Perhaps you drank a bit too much wine earlier. “Don’t kill me, I just know what a prick he used to be!”

“I wouldn’t kill you for such an infraction, (Y/N). You are my bride and equal. This vermin didn’t know his place,” he assured you. “Where would he hide the Aja if not in his home?”

“I can’t say for sure…” you started. Giving the wrong answer seemed more dangerous than not knowing, but you could hazard a guess in this case. “I imagine he’d hide it where he hid everything he really cared about. His mistress, his bastard children and your stone,” you said, pointing to the little home uphill. It was near the treeline and his sons and mistress were among the first to be devoured by vampires as a result. The elderly chief hadn’t been one of your favorite people to begin with, but losing his sons and the woman he loved made him worse.

You looked around the home you knew well, noticing the loose stones around the fireplace in the kitchen where no one would think anything was hidden.

“I have been by this house before,” Esidisi said.

“I think I found something,” you said, prying the stone loose stones out.

“Your sister was here, gathering your things,” he continued, insisting.\

“It’s stuck, could you please help?” you asked, trying to ignore him.

“You were the chief’s illegitimate daughter, is that right?” he asked, just as the stone came loose and you flopped backwards onto your old kitchen floor, gold and silver accessories jingling as you went.

“Ow…” you huffed, looking up at your husband from where you lay. “I spent enough time crying over that already. I have better things to waste tears on now,” you answered with a long sigh, slowly sitting back up.

There was a box in a little hollowed out space you uncovered. “He loved my mother and my brothers, but not me. I think he felt I should have died before any of them. I figure that was his real reason for sending me as a sacrifice. My sister was in the same boat as me, but she found herself a good husband.”

“Was he killed by the vampires, or one of us?” Esidisi asked, sounding genuinely apologetic.

“Typhoid, almost a year ago. My nieces lived with me during that time. Gods forbid they might have caught it too. I loved them so much… My mother still thought herself my father’s true love, ignoring how she was led on and made to live in poverty, treated like an adultering whore for being with a married man. My brothers were young, though they got it in their heads just like our mother that they would be in charge someday. Our father loved them, though. Had them trained to be warriors since they were children. In the end they didn’t wake up in time to scream, let alone fight… It’s been a few weeks since then...” you explained, crying again, but less frenzied than before. All that wine was definitely keeping you from throwing another tantrum, if only because you’d fall over if you tried.

“My sincerest condolences for your loss and you have my respect for what you did to save your sister and nieces,” your husband whispered. “You will never be disrespected like that, my sweet. We shall treat you as a goddess, as you rightfully deserve to be,” he promised.

You could tell he was serious, despite his ruthlessness in battle. His condolences were sincere, and you were grateful he’d been the one to send your sister on her way.

“You don’t mind that I’m human? Whatever happened to the women of your kind?” you asked.

“Our tribe existed until some eight thousand years ago. I was Lord Kars’ right hand in his endeavor to elevate our immortal kind through the stone masks, but they rejected his views. Kars decided if they wanted to spend eternity cowering underground instead of striving for more, then they might as well be dead,” Esidisi explained. “When he gave the order, I did not hesitate. The only ones spared were Wamuu and Santana, who were only infants at the time. Regardless, I say he chose his companions well. Yourself included,” he said, kissing your forehead.

By now your eyes had to be wide as saucers and you were regretting not bringing more wine, which might have made that story a little easier to unpack.

“I can’t say for sure whether you made the right choices, but wiping out all women of your immortal kind and then choosing me definitely sounds like a decision made by someone stabbed in the head with several stone spikes,” you said, making him laugh again.

“My beautiful (Y/N), what matters is that lord Kars sees the potential of a goddess in you and more than any creature that has ever walked this earth he has been a master of realizing such potential,” your husband assured you, taking the box you had almost forgotten about and flipping it open, revealing the brilliant red stone inside. “And you have just brought us one step closer with the gift you procured.”

It was explained on the way back up the mountain that their aim was to retrieve this stone to complete the stone mask lord Kars had created with the intention of allowing them to endure sunlight. It answered several questions you had and raised a million more, but your first order of business would be to present the stone to your husband and master.

“Lord Kars, we have returned!” Esidisi announced when you entered the temple. Kars was seated on his throne, his expression unreadable. He had let down his hair from under the tight wrap and it flowed down his back in elegant black waves, as dark and infinite as the night sky.

“Did you find it, Esidisi?” he asked, his eagerness betraying his stoic facade.

“I did not,” he said. Kars’ grip on his armrest cracked the solid marble and his red eyes shone furiously in the firelight. You flinched, wanting to smack your husband for teasing like this, but you were too nervous to speak already. “Rest easy, my lord. Our beloved bride did find it,” he said, ushering you forward.

You kneeled at his feet and humbly presented the stone. Kars pulled you into his lap and smiled, a genuinely happy smile as he kissed your cheek.

“Anything in the world shall be yours, my beautiful sunshine, for it is the world you have given us tonight,” he said, kissing your lips before taking the stone to examine it more. You felt an overwhelming joy bubble up in your chest, overpowering the grief and spite that had been festering there.

Esidisi looked almost smug, smiling up at you in his master’s lap. Like he was proud of himself you were getting praised.

All until Kars took a closer look at the stone. His expression turned to an annoyed sneer, and he glared at you so sharply you just about fell off his lap.

“Is it a fake, master Kars?” Wamuu asked while Esidisi approached to help you up and assure you again that you wouldn’t be eaten.

“This stone is genuine, but it is a plain Aja, far too small to serve its purpose,” Kars answered, shutting the box with a loud clack that made you flinch. “This is what we exhausted so much energy on…” he muttered, rubbing his forehead like he was fighting off a headache.

“The night is young, lord Kars. We can renew our search for the super Aja right now if you wish?” Esidisi offered.

Kars looked at Esidisi, then down to you, his expression softening slightly.

“No, that won’t be necessary, Esidisi. In fact, I might have some use for this stone after all. You can spend the night with our bride, seeing as how you’ve dressed her for the occasion,” your master declared, his eyes roaming over your figure, taking obvious note of your ankles. He stood up and grabbed the marble armrest he’d cracked, his muscles bulging as he ripped a slab of marble clean off. He picked up the stone and then plucked your wreath from your head and turned to head back into the catacombs.

“A shame. I thought the wreath matched your anklets rather well,” Esidisi said playfully, running his fingers through your hair. You blushed, but leaned into his touch regardless.

“I put those on cause they’re pretty. Not as an invitation… Kars is scary when he’s mad. What do I do?” you asked, feeling like you might cry again. You’d done your best, and you had no idea how big the stone needed to be! It wasn’t your fault!

“He isn’t mad at you,” Wamuu assured you. “I will head out with the vampires to continue our search. We know that the red stone of Aja traveled the silk road from Asia to Rome. We’ll just have to find it.”

“He knows not to blame you for this. Lord Kars is more sensible than that. He’s frustrated, because our fight with the hamon tribe took a great deal of energy and while consuming the remaining villagers replenished some of it, we have little time before even that runs dry,” Esidisi explained, picking you up and kissing your forehead.

“What happens when it does?” you asked, the pillarmen exchanging a worried glance.

“Either we must consume what might well be an army of humans, or we must go to sleep and hopefully recover,” Esidisi explained.

“What? I-I wouldn’t argue with you consuming humans as you need, but what would be wrong with sleeping?” you asked. You hadn’t caught any of them sleeping, but you assumed they could, just like any other creature.

“When we sleep, we turn to stone and it could well be a thousand years or more before we awaken. You would not be there to greet us when we awaken,” Wamuu explained, looking down at the ground.

“How much time do you have left?” you asked, once again feeling the ring in your chest weigh heavy on your heart, but not because you were excited this time.

“About as much time as is left on your engagement ring, beloved,” Esidisi said.

Wamuu took all vampires with him, scattering them in every direction to search for information on the red stone, leaving Esidisi himself to fetch something you could actually eat while you waited in his room.

“You shouldn’t have,” you said, bashfully accepting the basket of goods he returned with, although the sight of food had your stomach painfully clenching to remind you of just how hungry you were. On your wedding day you had refused to eat, scared senseless and struggling against everything being offered to you. After your evening with Wamuu you had spent almost the entire day asleep, meaning you were going on two days without food at this point. No wonder that wine earlier got you drunk so quickly.

“I wouldn’t make you descend and climb a mountain twice on an empty stomach. It was foolish of me to have let you return without eating in the first place,” Esidisi responded, smiling as you started to dig in. The basket had fruit and bread and cured meats and cheese, and you hurriedly started popping grapes in your mouth.

“Thank you so much,” you said, holding your hand in front of your half full mouth. “Can you eat this?” you asked out of curiosity.

“I could pretend. I can appreciate the flavor, surely, but it wouldn’t sustain me,” he answered. “Your body produces its own life energy. Mine can only draw on the life energy of other living beings.”

You looked at your basket, at the cured meat inside. You thought of how many animals died every year to keep you fed. You wouldn’t eat another human, but you’d come to realize the gods you were married to didn’t kill for their own amusement or even to defend themselves. Only to eat.

And while it may have felt like cruelty, humans were simply not used to being prey. Not used to being the wary herd, stalked by ferocious predators, and knowing that their only hope was that someone either braver or weaker would be killed off first and still their hunger another night.

On the other hand, could you justify yourself standing by as an army worth of humans were turned into food? It was true he said army, but that was an awfully justifiable way of putting it. Army made it sound like a threat. Like it was kill or be killed. In reality even if they only picked off strong men, worthy of being soldiers, that would just leave an army worth of widows and children defenseless and possibly starving.

Would they even give you the antidote? You thought you’d grown closer with Wamuu and now Esidisi and Kars had chosen you himself, but you still wore the poison ring around your heart. If they were going to sleep, they wouldn’t have a reason to keep you alive either. Why would they allow their bride to run off on her own if she was going to die before they woke up again? Maybe that was the point all along. To hold the ring’s curse over your head so you wouldn't run away until they didn’t need your little mortal self anymore.

“You’re worrying about something silly,” Esidisi said, cutting through your line of thought as if he’d been reading your mind. “You have a very expressive face,” he explained.

“It’s not silly,” was the first thing out of your mouth before you thought to deny it. You probably just sounded immature. “I guess to a god being worried about dying would sound like some silly human concern…”

“You won’t die, beloved. We won’t allow it,” Esidisi answered simply.

“What about the wedding ring?” you asked, putting a hand over your heart. your husband nodded, understanding.

“You’re worried we won’t save you if we don’t find the stone in time to escape our thousand year sleep?” he asked. You nodded, putting the basket away on a side table.

Esidisi’s bedroom was larger than Wamuu’s and so was the bed you were seated on. The silk covers and furs from exotic animals in the candle light looked and felt like some kind of dream. It didn’t help the part of your brain that was whispering none of this was meant for you and like a dream it would come to an end long before you wanted it to.

“We’ll do everything we can to secure the stone first. If that fails, we can buy ourselves more time as needed,” he said, taking your hands in his. “It pains me to think you’ll live a mortal life at all. I realize by comparison it is selfish, but I wouldn’t want to wake up in a world without you in it…” he sighed, thumbs stroking over the many rings on your fingers. He didn’t suggest making you a vampire, which you were grateful for. The thought of spending centuries in the dark consuming humans while waiting for them to return made you sick to your stomach.

“I’m sorry…” you whispered. “It’s just so hard to believe when my own people didn’t want me alive… You barely know me…”

“I know enough to have fallen for you and everything I have come to learn has made me love you more,” he responded.

“I-I… Esidisi…” you whined, wanting to bury your face in your hands, but he wouldn’t let go. Your face was red. Had it been so hot in his room the whole time? Every other underground room had been so cool.

“I will have you know the extent of my adoration, my beautiful dancing flame,” he said. “If Kars won’t see reason, I will make him.”

Somehow knowing that he would disagree with Kars for your sake was a greater declaration of love than any words or gifts and you leaned in to kiss his lips.

“I love you too… I don’t want to cry anymore, please,” you said softly, burying your fingers in his soft, white hair.

“But you cried so beautifully for Wamuu last night,” he whispered. You whined and buried your face in his neck.

“You were listening?!” you asked. You thought Esidisi had been out that night.

“How could I not have heard you screaming like that? You sounded so eager. I have lived thousands of years and yet this evening has tested my patience more than centuries spent looking for the stone. Now I finally get you all to myself~” he purred, reaching over to the nightstand and pinching the candle wick between his fingers to snuff out its flame. You heard the soft sizzle of his flesh burning as he hadn’t wet his fingers to do it, but he didn’t even seem to notice. Every light that died let the shadows of the room creep closer, but you weren’t scared or even worried.

In the dark you could still sense him moving while he was so close. The soft, delicate silks of your new clothes slipped off easily and you were about to start on your jewelry, but your master really had run out of patience.

“Keep them on. You look beautiful,” he praised, pulling you in for another heated kiss. You wished you could take some of his clothes, but you had already noticed those were stitched into his skin. You did not expect him to remove his sewn on chest plate just so you could kiss and nuzzle his chest more freely, which was why the loud sound of stitches snapping surprised you.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” you asked finally.

“I hardly feel any pain at all and my body heals quickly. I rather enjoy the thrill when I do feel it. It’s exhilarating,” he explained. You were about to reach out and touch his chest when something hot and slim coiled around your wrists and pulled them back above your head. You couldn’t see what it was and the sharp tug made you help, but you knew it was just your husband, even if you couldn’t quite tell what he’d done.

“I will show you pain if you don’t stop teasing me,” you huffed, making him laugh.

“You are too adorable, trying to threaten me, my little flame,” he said through his laughing, something hot and wet dripping from the coils around your wrists, making you shiver. His hands around your waist moved and still your hands were pinned, immobile, which was frustrating, because not only could you not see your lover without his painful looking armor, you couldn’t touch him either. His fingertips felt hot, as if by remnant of the flames he extinguished between them, but by now you knew better. That heat was all his and glowed fiercely from within and you vaguely suspected he held it back some, just to touch you without hurting you when he explored your naked skin.

There was something sensual about being dressed in nothing but your jewelry before him. The bracelets entwined with the warm twine that held your arms in place. The thin strands of twinkling gold, laden with gems around your neck, resting lightly against the top of your bare breasts. The anklets you still wore, a coquettish little accessory that would have branded you a shameless whore to the humans you knew. Still your husband regarded you as a far greater treasure, stroking your thighs and kissing your neck as if he were mapping out every inch of you with his touch, even though you knew he could see you in the complete darkness.

“Please, Esidisi…” you murmured, wanting to feel his heat deep inside your core. You could already tell this would be nothing like with Wamuu. He’d been all chivalry, slowly testing the waters, infinitely patient until you gave him the all clear to have his way with you.

Esidisi was more in control, using that to his advantage to tease you mercilessly. He was taking things slow to savour you, not because he was holding anything back. His demeanor exuded a confidence and experience that made you feel safe, even if his slow pace had you craving more already.

“Please what, my darling?” he asked, pushing you down against the bed and you could feel the mattress dip where he kneeled over your small, exposed form. In the pitch black darkness you couldn’t see him right in front of you, but you felt the warmth radiating off him like a flame still. “Would you rather I take you like a beast in heat, little one? So eagerly crying for more~”

Heat was a very apt description of your current desire, in every sense of the word and he knew it. Threats and orders would make him laugh and requests would be easily overruled, but Esidisi never once denied you when you begged.

“Please, my master, my lord, my king! I need you to touch me. Make me yours. Burn me up! I need you!” you pleaded, rubbing your thighs together, only to have them roughly pried apart.

“No wonder Wamuu lost control with you so easily. With such a charming spark you possess you should be careful what you wish for,” he warned, and you could feel his breath against your labia, already anticipating what would happen next.

Knowing what would happen and being prepared for just how good it would feel were still two different things and more of the hot tendrils wrapped themselves around your legs, keeping you open and exposed while your god and master indulged in the taste of you. He worked his tongue deliberately, aiming to please in a way that told he took just as much pleasure in the act himself.

“A-Ah, yes! Oh my god… please please please don’t stop!” you pleaded, losing yourself too quickly to even try holding back your orgasm. His thumb worked your clit in slow, deliberate circles, while his tongue dipped hungrily into your wet pussy, as if craving your taste.

You came screaming, arching off the bed as far as your bonds would allow, while Esidisi continued to work you through your climax with his gentle, loving touch.

“You’re incredible, my love. I am so thankful I get to have you all to myself tonight. I can already imagine the fights over who gets to have you in their bed, our most coveted treasure,” he whispered while you caught your breath.

“Hmm… Ah, but all else being equal… won’t I get a say in that?” you asked, panting to catch your breath. The bindings around your wrists loosened and moments later you could feel his fingers pushing into your sensitive opening.

“True, true, very true,” he agreed, as his warm, battle calloused fingers explored your most sensitive spots. His heat inside was making you tremble and you almost desperately wanted more of it, despite having cum once already. “I suppose I’d better give you a reason to choose me when the time comes,” he said, rubbing insistent circles at a spot that made you whimper with need.

With your hands now free, you reached blindly into the darkness, finding his immensely broad shoulders and muscular arms. You carded your fingers through the soft white curls of his hair, pushing the fabric of his headpiece off and feeling the sharp horns he kept concealed under it.

“I-If you want to give me a reason… P-Please fuck me… I can take it already, please~” you begged. You could just make out the way his breath hitched and the sharp intake of breath before the bindings around your legs dragged you hallway into your lover’s lap and you could feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against you to replace his fingers.

“I am going to ruin you…” he growled softly, gripping your hips and slamming in deep.

You arched your back and keened, the edge of pain eased by his warmth and the pleasure of having him inside.

“What a glorious little spark you are, sweet (Y/N). Let me have you like this forever. Let me shower you with affection so that you may always wear such a lovely expression,” he murmured, kissing your lips while his hips rocked steadily with yours, his pace intensifying until the bed under you shook. It was nowhere near the feral pounding you’d enjoyed from Wamuu the previous night, but it was enough to leave you reeling regardless.

You giggled briefly, shaking your head. “I-Imagine… If I made that face at lord Kars? No… just now… just you… Esidisi~...” you responded. He chuckled and lifted you further onto his lap, holding you close while he slowed to grinding deeper inside you than you would have thought possible. It felt so incredible your eyes fluttered shut and you slumped against his rock-hard chest, finally getting to rub your face on it, though your attention was firmly drawn elsewhere.

“I imagine he’ll be inclined to make you show that face for himself soon. He’ll be as enamored with it as I am, beloved,” he said, his heat all around and deep inside you. It felt so comforting and safe in his arms, even wrecked by wave after wave of pleasure. “Still, I will cherish this moment where you are mine and mine alone~”

You were going to cum again. The pleasure like this wasn’t as overwhelming as being pounded like before, but it was constant, inescapable and so intense you could only mewl softly in agreement and try not to drool.

“So small and sensitive. You are far too tempting not to tease,” he said, still rocking into you slow and deep, letting out a deep, guttural moan when he felt you quiver and tighten around his hard cock. He didn’t stop or slow down, keeping his pace and dragging your breathtaking orgasm on into what felt like minutes.

“Ah~ S-So much… t-too much! Esidisi… Too much~!!!” you whined, weak little fingers clutching at his shoulders, digging into his skin as you braced yourself against the tidal waves of climax.

“You can endure more than you think, little one. I will show you the true heights of pleasure,” he purred, the intensity of his movements ramping up and the intensity of your never ending peak with it.

You were spilling all over his lap, crying out nonsensically while Esidisi built back up to the bed rattling rhythm from before. You’d never imagined feeling pleasure like this, dancing on the razor’s edge of pain, but never crossing it. The last part of your brain that still had any sense left wondered what love making like this could be building towards, as you were already cumming, but you could feel something building regardless.

You dimly wondered if some sort of double orgasm was possible and the thought was funny to you.

You wanted to share it, but between gasping and panting for breath and the lust clouding your mind you couldn’t get a word out.

Then you felt Esidisi slamming in hard and deep, flooding you with more of his divine warmth to the point of overflowing, and you had the answer for what could possibly beat ecstacy like you had been feeling before.

The last thing crossing your mind was complete and utter satisfaction before you completely and utterly passed out.

#jjba #esidisi #esidisi x reader #pillarmen #jojo's bizzare adventure x reader #wamuu x reader #kars x reader #not sfw #chapter 2 #reader insert

[merakiaes]

Alright - Jose “Sad Eyes” Guzman

Pairing: Jose “Sad Eyes” Guzman x reader

Requested: Yes. 

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: Since Sad Eyes’ first name isn’t mentioned in the show, I’m stealing the one @spookysmujer​ and @youare-mysonshine​ came up with for him for their co-written story ‘Todo Cambio’. Go check it out! NOT PROOFREAD, so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes, and translations for the Spanish bits can be found at the end. I hope you like it and let me know what you think, it’s my first time writing for Sad Eyes xx

Wordcount: 2397

Summary: Sad Eyes takes care of you after you’ve been jumped and beaten by Prophets. 

“Ow. Not so hard.” You hissed through your teeth, your entire body wincing when the alcohol-soaked rag was pressed down onto the open cut in your eyebrow.

Sad Eyes barely batted an eye to your complaints, his face wiped free of every emotion but anger as he kept cleaning you up with slow, careful movements.

The hand that wasn’t holding the rag was holding on to your chin to hold your face in place, his touch soft, almost as if he thought that you would break if he held you with any more pressure.

But still, the feeling of the rag pressing against the open scrapes and cuts on your face was the most painful thing you’d ever felt, having you constantly wincing out of his touch which in turn only added fuel to his burning irritation.

“I need to clean it or it’ll get infected.” He replied flatly, his voice low in his throat.

He heaved an annoyed sigh when you winced out of his touch again, reaching his hand back out to grab your shin, this time more determined. 

“You’re pressing too hard.” You winced again, tears burning your eyes.

Still, you kept watching him through your blurry vision, knowing that his body standing in front of you where you were seated on top of the kitchen counter was the only thing keeping you from falling down in all your dizzy glory.

Those Prophets had really done a number on you, four full-grown men with biceps the size of your thighs having jumped you, a twenty-year-old girl, guilty of nothing but being recognized as a Santo’s ruca when walking through the street.

Of course, one of them had been Latrelle, him having been the one to spot you out. He had been causing a lot of trouble for Los Santos lately, Cesar in particular. 

You held the youngest Diaz boy very dear to your heart and if you hadn’t hated those Prophets before, you sure did now that they had done him dirty like that.

So, of course, you just had to be your stupid old self and open your big, stupid mouth, basically inviting them to show off their dominance.

You didn’t know what ‘manly’ was in their eyes, but four guys ganging up on one girl half their size was not how you would define it. 

Either way, they beat you to the curb in an attempt to get you to give up a Santos safe-house, going in confident that you would throw the Santos under the bus for your own survival’s sake, but they were quickly proven wrong.

You were barely holding on to your life at the end of it and hadn’t Oscar, Jose and the Santos shown up when they did, you were sure you would have died.

You would never forget the look on Jose’s face when he came over to you where you laid on the ground, barely even able to hold your eyes open at that point. He was talking to you, yelling, but you couldn’t hear a word, your ears ringing.

His eyes had grown more panicked than they had already been when you guessed he realized you were slipping away from him, you remember the faint feeling of his hand slapping against your cheek and seeing Oscar rush up behind him.

The last thing you remembered was them lifting you up and carrying you towards the Impala while the other Santos beat down the Prophets, and then everything had turned black.

You woke up again when you were being carried back out of the car and at that point, you had gotten back your sense of hearing back and was a lot less out of it. 

Your thoughts weren’t completely coherent but you were still able to lazily sass your boyfriend and his best friend back when they scolded you for being stupid.

Something you knew neither of them had appreciated very much, especially not Jose.

You were pulled out of your thoughts and back to reality with another wince when he pressed the rag down again, his voice reaching your ears shortly after.

“I’m barely touching you.” He said in a flat voice, and true to his words, he carefully wiped the rag around the cut again. “You brought this on yourself. I told you to stay inside until I got back.”

You closed your eyes, sighing out through your nose and holding on to the edge of the counter as a sudden wave of dizziness hit you. “This again?” You questioned. “The fridge was empty and I was hungry. I just needed to go to the store.”

“I could’ve given you a ride.” He pressed down harder on your face as the anger got the best of him, the stinging sensation forcing your eyes open again.

You met his angry gaze with one of your own, glaring fiercely at him. “You weren’t picking up your phone. What was I supposed to do? Starve?”

Removing the rag away from your face and bringing his hands down to the counter, he stared at you. “You could have waited another hour.” He pointed out and you rolled your eyes, instantly regretting it as the bruises around them screamed in protest.

“How was I supposed to know you would have been done an hour from then?” You asked him, and watched as something flickered behind his brown eyes.

“The human body can go for three weeks without food.” He fired back, taking a threatening step closer to you.

“You know how I know that?” He raised his eyebrows, moving his face closer to you, to which you held your breath nervously. “Because you’re the one who told me.”

He shook his head, his gaze so strict you wanted nothing more than to look away. But you couldn’t. “You’re not taking this seriously. You could’ve died.”

Your eyebrows furrowed together at the sight of his eyes closing and his head falling down, his back moving up and down with violent breaths.

More than anything, you just wanted to tell him he was right and that you were sorry; that it wouldn’t happen again. One side of your mind was screaming at you to do just this, to put an end to the suffering he was obviously experiencing right now.

Bur admitting out loud that he was right would also mean admitting you were wrong, and that’s something the other side of your mind wasn’t on board with. You were just stubborn like that; a flaw that had caused problems in your relationship more time than you could remember.

“But I didn’t, did I?” You asked before you could stop yourself, your stubbornness getting the best of you.

You plastered on a smile, eyes softening and hands leaving the counter to take his face in yours, forcing him to look up at you as you continued. “My knight in shining armor turned up and saved me, like you always do.”

Your thumbs rubbed small circles on the line of his jaw and his eyes fell shut at the feeling, but it did nothing to calm his mind, his head beginning to shake furiously.

“Stop.” His voice was silent, low, as he got lost in your touch for just a brief moment. But he quickly pulled himself back together, opening his eyes and moving his hands up to stop yours “No hagas eso. This is serious.”

“I’m fine.” You tried to convince him again, dropping your hands from his face again and looking to the side, avoiding his pointed glare.

You knew you deserved the scolding you were currently getting, but you felt like a child being scolded by her parent and it made your defensiveness rise to the max out of pure instinct.

And he knew you like he knew the back of his own hand, knowing exactly how you were functioned, what you were thinking, what you were trying to do and why.

“Stop trying to run away from the consequences of your actions. Stop trying to make the situation less serious than it is.” He kept scolding you, trying to search out your eyes.

When you kept avoiding his gaze, he reached out and caught your chin in between his fingers again, forcing your face to the front so that he could look you in the eyes. 

“Are you listening to me?” He questioned, and out of pure instinct, you glared, turning defensive again.

“Yeah, I’m listening, Jose.” You snapped back. “How can I not when you keep getting up in my face?”

“You could have died, (Y/N)!” He finally snapped, the sudden change of volume of his voice causing you to jump where you sat, your heart following your body’s example behind your chest.

Your eyes widened and the speed of your heartbeat picked up significantly as his demeanor changed in less than a second, his face now pulled into a near murderous glare as he continued to yell. 

“Did you even stop to think about how it would affect me if something happened to you?! No, you never do! Porque eres un orgulloso, y no escuchas!”

You swallowed back the lump growing in your throat at the sight of tears now spilling down his cheeks, your own eyes beginning to sting at the sight.

It was absolutely terrifying, the kind of deep suffering the happiest looking people were able to hide inside themselves.

You had never seen him cry in the years you had been together and now that you had, the guilt that you had been pushing back this entire time suddenly came rushing back, like a flood going through your entire body, coming out on top of the pride you had previously allowed to control your words and actions.

“I’m sorry.” You were finally able to apologize, your voice small and barely even audible.

Your lower lip quivered and tears were building up in your eyes at a frequent pace as the fear from what had happened not even an hour ago came rushing back to you, having been pushed back by the adrenaline in the heat of the moment.

Only then did allow yourself to realize how serious the situation really was, but as you watched your boyfriend raise his hands to his head and breath heavily in an attempt to control his emotions, and failing miserably, you couldn’t even bring yourself to process your own fear.

All you could focus on was him, your arms automatically shooting out to catch his biceps in your hands.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry, alright?” You said again, your voice now a bit louder. “I should’ve listened to you, but I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

He closed his eyes, still refusing to look at you and staying rooted to his spot when you tried pulling him back to you. “Yeah.” He agreed, his voice now lowered again. “But you wouldn’t have been if we hadn’t turned up when we did.”

You frowned, nodding and looking down into the floorboards. “I know. I’m sorry.” You admitted, your own tears finally spilling over the edge.

Sad Eyes’ head turned back to you, his glare going soft at the sight of you. He sighed deeply, pulling his hands over his face before turning back to you and stepping back in between your legs.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” He apologized calmly, raising his hands up to your cheeks. “You scared the shit out of me.” He breathed out, pressing a long kiss to your forehead while squeezing his eyes shut.

Your body instantly turned warmed at the small touch of affection, your hands coming up to grab at his wrists. “I know. I’m sorry.” You repeated silently, sounding like a record stuck on repeat at this point.

But he didn’t seem to care, moving his arms open and nodding at you. “Ven aquí. Let me hold you.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, inching yourself further out on the counter and leaning into his arms, letting his long arms wrap around you securely. 

He felt warm and familiar, solid and safe. You wanted to cling to his shirt, bury your face into the warm curve of his neck and never let go, instantly relaxing at the feeling of his body held tightly against yours.

But you knew that it was more for his sake than yours. Seeing you beaten up really scared him, you knew, and it would be a long time before he would forgive himself for letting that happen to you – even if it hadn’t even been remotely his fault.

Feeling a small drop fall on top of your head, you raised your face from his chest to look at him, wasting no time in taking his face in your hands and wiping his eyes free of the tears. 

“Please don’t cry.” You whispered.

He looked back at you, face blank but eyes holding more sadness and conflict than you’d ever seen him experience before. “I almost lost you.” He replied.

His voice was harsh, and your eyebrows creased together as your thumb swiped across his cheek again. “I know what you’re thinking and it’s not your fault.”

His eyes fell closed again and his head leaned down, his forehead suddenly pressing against yours. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane in all this Santo madness, I don’t know what I’d do without you, mi amor.”

His hands gripped at your waist desperately and you held his face in your hands just as affectionately. 

“I’m not going anywhere, papi.” Your head shook, rubbing your foreheads together. “I promise I’ll listen to you next time.”

Another breath left his nose, but this time out of relief. “I’m holding you to that, princesa.” He opened his eyes, squeezing your waist and pressing his forehead harder against yours.

“Te amo.” He spoke then, in that perfect Spanish accent that you loved so much and never failed to make your face light up in a smile; not even now when your face was bruised beyond recognition.

“I love you, too.” You whispered back, and then you leaned in and pressed your lips to his in a kiss, pouring all of you into that one single moment to let him know you were alright.

 Translations (I’m not a native Spanish speaker so this might not be a hundred percent accurate):

No hagas eso – don’t do that

Porque eres un orgulloso, y no escuchas – because you’re selfish, and you don’t listen

Ven aquí – come here

#sad eyes #sad eyes imagine #sad eyes x reader #on my block #on my block imagine #on my block x reader #omb #omb imagine #omb x reader #santos #spooky #oscar diaz #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz imagine #oscar spooky diaz #steve villegas

[homogrimoire-archive]

The Wild Dreams of Despair

As Hazel was drowning his sorrows in a bottle, Qrow just so happened to be around doing the same. They get to talking, and decide to run away from their lives, just for a moment. In that time, wish to have comfort with one another.

AO3 Link

Hazel looked up to see who dared to bother him. Couldn't they see he was moping, nursing a cup of something alcoholic that was best enjoyed alone? Upon seeing who it was, he tensed up, ready to fight. But the other man's expression, the way he swayed, his body language, it all conveyed he was on the same boat, and not looking for a fight either..

Hazel lowered his head and went black to staring at his glass as Qrow took a seat across from him in the bar's corner booth. It was fine by him. He didn't have the desire to care that an enemy was sitting across from him at the moment. His semblance had been slipping up lately, letting him feel things he wasn't sure how to deal with. Trying to drown it away felt appropriate. Let there be numbness once more, as there should be.

"You ever get tired of all this?' Qrow questioned. Hazel let out a sigh.

"… Yeah."

"We've all lost so much. Why can't it end already?"

"Why do we have to go on?" Hazel added and took another sip of his drink, offering it to Qrow after. He obliged, and took a gulp. With a satisfied "ahhh," he handed it back to Hazel.

"Good choice." he complimented.

"So I've heard. Supposed to burn a lot going down."

"No pain though, huh?"

"It's easy to feel nothing."

"Even if it feels wrong." Qrow laughed bitterly.

Silence followed for the next few peaceful moments, a simple quiet. Hazel lost himself in his drink as Qrow did the same. Even if this was his enemy, there was a comfort in being not alone with someone similar. It was perhaps a moment of weakness brought on by drunkenness.

"Life hates us, doesn't it?" Hazel said, breaking the silence.

"Be hard to say otherwise." Qrow reasoned.

"If I could turn back time, I would have run away from that school like we did from our parents."

"I would have followed Summer like I knew I should have. There's about a thousand more things I'd have done.."

"At the very least, you have some family to live for. Should appreciate it more." Hazel advised.

"If only I could." Qrow drawled. "Only another thing to lose and hurt."

Hazel could understand the logic. Suppose Gretchen had children, and then she died. Fear would consume him in wake and sleep, for them and what could happen to them in this terrible world. He could imagine how it was for someone with a semblance like Qrow's.

"No one ever gets what they want, huh?"

"I don't think we'll ever get what we want." Qrow responded, taking a long swig of his drink and ordering another round for him and Hazel.

"And like fools, we still try." Hazel said. A few shot glasses arrived, and Qrow picked one up and held it out for a toast.

"To an unfortunate life full of pain." he quietly said. Hazel picked up a glass and clinked it against Qrow's, the two of them downing their glass after.

Qrow was comfortable to mope about the past in silence as well. So many wonderful things that could have been, snatched away by the cruelty of fate. He at least had something to live for, something that could so easily be taken away. He wanted to forget that, forget how the tribe treated him, how Raven betrayed them, the pain of Summer dying, the pain of simple existence.

"How do you do it?" Qrow wondered.

"Do what?"

"Go on."

"Sometimes, I don't know." Hazel answered after a moment. He didn't need the moment to think about the answer, just for his drunken mind to process the question. "All I have now is hate. It's a fire. And like all fires, it will burn out someday."

"And when it does?"

"Don't know."

He really didn't know. He didn't know who he was without Gretchen. He didn't know who he would be without his hate and the desire for revenge that fueled it. He wasn't entirely sure who he was. There was nothing in the world for him to love, and nothing in the world to love him either. Not anymore.

"We deserve this, don't we?" Hazel wondered. Qrow nodded his head in agreement as he lazily swirled the ice in a half drunk glass of whiskey.

Hazel took a drink from one of the glasses Qrow had ordered, filled with the stuff he was drinking earlier. He set it down, and stared into it, his distorted reflection barely noticeable in the dimly lit bar. He had tasted it earlier out of curiosity after downing about six of those, and found that it was indeed something that was not meant to be slowly savored.

"Do you… ever think about running away from it all?"

"Heh. Done that a few times. No one ever noticed. But I aaalways kept coming back." he sadly informed the colossal man across from him. "Always… always… always…" he dejectedly repeated.

"Tonight… just tonight, the two of us should run from everything, together. I don't want to be alone for once, even if it's for a moment." Hazel could feel an intense feeling of loneliness and sadness that would make one cry. However, his semblance wouldn't let him cry just because of mere painful misery.

"I don't want to be alone either."

They finished their drinks, Qrow got up, and Hazel followed. Hand in hand, like that of former selves in a distant past, they walked through the city in quiet. The setting's sights and sounds passed by. A bright tower that displayed the city's name, a church whose bell rolled as they passed, an empty parking lot as the sun set. Out of sight, out of earshot, out of mind.

Qrow had since begun to lean against Hazel, his mind solely focused on getting to his motel room. It did not bear the excitement and anticipation that once filled him when they snuck into his dorm when his teammates were out on a date. The only thing he felt now was an old, lingering sadness.

Hazel felt similar. His life was also a sad, unfortunate thing. Innocent and simple things such as the giddiness of spending time alone with the guy he loved were long gone, taken by time for one reason or another.

Even with this, there was comfort in knowing they could still bring some comfort to the man they once loved. They could at least give each other a simple solace in a time of pain: to not feel alone. They may be enemies on opposing sides of an ancient, ongoing war, they were still only human.

Qrow unlocked the door to his motel room, Hazel following behind him.

"I'm gonna shower. Wanna join?" Qrow asked, this time with the sultry tone he had used many times before.

Hazel agreed. Back to back, they undressed themselves. Earlier, Qrow cursed having to pay extra for the larger room with a larger bathroom since it was the last one. At least that ended up working out.

Qrow finished undressing first, and fiddled with the shower to get the water running hot, as they both liked it. Hazel joined soon after. Yes, perhaps they could have showered separately, but then they would have been alone. Besides it was nice to have someone wash your hair and help scrub your back.

It was something Qrow and Hazel had done before together, and something that had missed more than they realized. The feeling of touching the man they loved, without ulterior, sexual motive, of helping with something so simple yet so private, the unexplainable warmth of it all. This act of intimacy and its accompanying emotions were another thing lost to time, only happening now as something to lose again.

Eventually, they finished showering and dried up, moving to the room's queen sized bed. It was late now, so they laid next to each other, Hazel curled up against Qrow. How they both missed such a closeness. Knowing this was fleeting made regret and sadness swell. But, for now, they had each other once more. Hazel embraced Qrow tighter, and Qrow did the same.

Why us? What did we ever do to deserve this suffering?

#rwby #qrow branwen #hazel rainart #Unfortunate Pain #Qrow/Hazel #Finally some finished non-smut of unfortunate pain #ive got a whole au with them thats a wip but this will satisfy me for now

[valkyriesryde]

Guardian Angel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Athena!Reader

Summary: PART TWO OF CALM She won’t commit to him. He doesn’t understand why. But he doesn’t know who she is.

Word Count: 2,130

Warnings: maybe some angst, maybe some fluff, some hinting towards NSFW content but its not explicit. And swearing

A/N: this is a part two but I think it can be read by itself maybe. Its also @mybesttobobcratchit Bex’s 500 Writing challenge! Thank you so much for letting me take part hun! love you <3

Masterlist

~~~

Midgard. That’s what Thor always called it. In the years since the blip and moving forward Thor had come back to earth a handful of times. He’d met Bucky, reconnected with his old friends, those that were still around at least. 

On one of his more recent visits, when Bucky found Thor alone in the common room of their offices he couldn’t help but think of her. Thor was a god and so was she. Thor had power and nobility just like she did. She was still as much a mystery to Bucky has she had ever been and he thought, perhaps Thor had some answers.

“Humans believe in many kinds of gods, do you think it’s possible they’re all out there like you were?” Bucky picks his words carefully, he and Thor don’t exactly know each other well and he doesn’t want to give her away just yet.

“Of course it’s possible, myths always start as facts. Why do you ask? Have you met one? Who is it?” Thor fires questions at Bucky and a smirk spreads over him when Bucky falters at them. “You HAVE!” Thor’s voice booms with laughter as Bucky tries to hush him and looks over his shoulder.

“Maybe! Just be quiet. They can’t know!” His heart beats quickly as he looks towards the door but there’s no sound of someone coming and Bucky can relax. He wonders if she knows he’s told someone about her? If maybe speaking her name would bring her here. 

“But why not? This is fantastic? Who are they? Have I met them?” Thor whispers into the air and the words settle around Bucky for a minute. 

“I don’t know.” He doesn’t know. He has his theories, he’s got the clues. But he doesn’t want to make any assumptions. “She’s like a guardian angel, my guardian angel.” He feels almost breathless talking about her. He’s confused though, he doesn’t know, he’s not 100% sure of anything. She’s cryptic when she talks to him, refuses to tell him anything about herself that digs any deeper than what’s on the surface. 

“She? Do you have her name?”

“Y/N”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Thor shrugs his shoulders, he sips his coffee and peers over the mug at Bucky. Bucky who slumps in his seat and is lost in his thoughts until his phone rings and he’s out the door.

~~~

She comes and goes. Like the sun, she passes by and without realizing how long it’s been the sun sets and she has to leave again. She tried explaining it once, “if I’m here for too long people get suspicious James,” she said when he asked her to stay a little longer. “I’ve duties elsewhere you know that. I’ll always come back.” come back those were the words that hurt him. She had come back so far but what if she didn’t? 

The sun was setting again. Bucky watched her tidy her small apartment, the one she kept for whenever she was here. Five months this time he’d had her. It was the longest he’d had her in the same world as him, the longest she had stayed in New York. 

“Do you know when you’ll be coming back?” he picked at the thread of his jumper not wanting to look at the way her face dropped at his comment.

“When the time is right,” she muttered into the room, her focus on the cups she was putting away instead of the frowning man on her couch.

“And when will that be?” 

“James…” she moved to sit next to him, she hated these moments; the goodbye. When he asked her to stay with him for a bit longer and she had to fight herself and tell him no, she couldn’t. 

“How hard is it to give even an estimate? You never tell me, I don’t know if you just don’t know when you’ll be back or if you don’t want to tell me but either way it’s incredibly hard on me just waiting for you to return?” Bucky was angry. Everything came bubbling over at once, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling frustrated and annoyed with her. He thought they were happy, he thought he was enough but why does she keep leaving him. 

“I always come back,” her voice was calm and that just fueled his anger. She shouldn’t be calm at a moment like this, she should be feeling some sort of emotion, at least give him something!

“But I want you to stay! You never do. There’s so much you don’t do. So much you don’t tell me. Do you even care about me? You tell me you favor me, that you love me but do you really?” That angered her. Finally, that was the thing that pushed her over the edge. How dare he question her love for him. 

“Are you really going to look me in the eye and tell me you think I don’t love you?” She stood from her seat and looked down at him with grey eyes that made him feel as though he was in the eye of the storm but Bucky’s emotions got the better of him. 

“You won’t even kiss me. What am I supposed to think?” Bucky’s voice was quiet, he was hurt, every time he would go to kiss her she turned away. She wouldn’t tell him why just that the time wasn’t right. There was never enough time, never the right time. 

“Love isn’t just shown through physical affections, James.” Her voice low as anger fueled it. 

“Sometimes I feel like I barely know anything about you! You just talk about me and everything else but yourself. I want to know who you are!”  

“Who I am?” She held her hands in fists by her side, her jaw tightened. 

“Yes.” He hit back. She straightens her posture in front of him and Bucky sits up.

“I was born when my father developed an unbearable headache. His skull was split open and out I came ready for battle. I had no childhood. I’m always on the winning side of the war. They named a city after me you know? A whole city.” She shakes her head and lets out a small laugh. The simple jeans and t-shirt she wore morphed and a toga, white as snow, formed over her. A familiar golden shield appeared in her hand. The face of a woman with snakes for hair, he knew that story, was on its front, she held a spear in her other as she stood over him. “Gods get forgotten, the new gods are merely the old with different names. That doesn’t change our history. I’m not remembered, I’m no longer worshipped but that does not change who I am. I don’t kiss you because I took an oath. If I kiss you I don’t know if I’d be able to stop myself. It’s bad enough that I favor you and I spend my time in the mortal realm but if I broke that oath? I would be disowned, I would be punished worse than you can ever imagine.”

Bucky stood from the couch and her shield and spear disappeared from her side. He wasn’t quite sure what he was feeling. In awe, enamored, slightly terrified, a little honored. 

“You want to know who I am? I am wisdom. I am the helper of heroes, Odysseus and his son, Heracles, Perseus, Jason...you. I am the protector of the city, Pallas, grey eyes. Minerva. Athena.”

“Y/N.” Her breath caught in her throat when he spoke her name. The only one she’d chosen for herself. Bucky reached up and traced his fingers over her jaw, her chest heaved as he held her in his hands as if she were made of glass. 

“I love you.” He brushed away her tears, she hadn’t even realized she was crying until she felt his fingers brush across her cheeks, “you have to know that.” Bucky nods his head, he feels the salt from his own tears when he licks his lips. Her fingers grip his shirt as he presses his forehead to hers and he lets out a shaky breath.

“I love you,” Bucky breathed out and his lips brushed against hers.

“Bucky-“ his lips pressed against hers and her knees went weak, his arms circling her waist and holding her close.

It was hesitant, gentle and filled with love. But when her fingers tangled in the ends of his hair and he pulled her flush against him it changed. Hesitant turned to confident, gentle turned to rough and the love evolved into passion. Hands pulled and gripped at clothes until they were piles on the floor. Hair was pulled, moans and whimpers filled the room and moved through the hall, they pressed against the wall, were tangled in the sheets, deep sighs and murmurs of love and adoration only reserved for one another floated around them. Somewhere in the distance lightning cracked and thunder boomed, rain poured outside but it only added to the ambiance of it all.

~~~ 

“You can’t love him.” They stood at the mouth of the cave, her bag slung over her shoulder as he leaned against the stone.

“That’s a bit hypocritical of you to say isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes at the god of thunder. How did he know, how did he always know when she was up to no good.

“If anything my warning should be the one you do listen to. Nothing but pain can come from loving a mortal.” They were good friends, had been for a long time. It’s what happens when you're around for so long, your lives tend to cross every now and then. 

“He’s not just a mortal though. He doesn’t age like them, he doesn’t heal like them. He’s not just a mortal.” She kept telling her it was okay. Everything would be okay. He wasn’t a normal mortal. He loved her. She loved him.

“He’s not immortal either, he’s not like either of us.” Thor always ruined her fun. She can love him for now though can’t she? Does she not deserve this, she’d lived a thousand lives, she deserved to choose one for herself.

“Thor I thought you would understand,” Y/N rolled her eyes at her old friend, she mirrored his stance and crossed her arms as if to challenge him.

“I do. That’s the problem grey eyes, I understand too well. I do not want you to get hurt.” Thor looked at her with sympathy, he knew the hurt, he carried it with him. The pain that came with rejection. Thor loved midgardians but he knew how dangerous they were when it came to their feelings. He didn’t wish heartbreak to anyone, especially someone he cared about.

“You’re not my father,” her father, god of the sky, king of the gods. She wasn’t afraid of him, not as afraid as she should be as she prepares to go home.

“You are lucky it’s me and not him you’re talking to.”

“By now he already knows, if anything being here with you is just me procrastinating the inevitable.” She shrugged her shoulders at Thor who couldn’t help but roll his eyes in return.

“You can’t run away from this, you took an oath.”

“And what does that oath say about love? I’ve kept that oath for thousands of years. I’m sick of it.”

“And what if it’s not love, what if this blows up in your face?” Thor’s warnings came from his own experience and his own fears. He’d been left behind, he’d lost his family and all of those that were closest to him. She was an enigma, she didn’t see the risk of it all, the risk that came with loving someone who could be taken from you so easily.

“I’ve never wanted to break it before him, Thor. If that isn’t love...if wanting to go against what I’ve promised and what I’ve been told to believe because of him isn’t love...then I do not care for it.”

“He loves you.” It’s a fact that Thor states without even thinking about it. He saw the look in Bucky’s eyes when they talked to each other earlier in the week. He saw the way his body completely changed, his posture straightened, his shoulders relaxed, his eyes lit up. Bucky was in love. 

“He sees me, Thor, he always saw me. He was never supposed to see me but he always did...does.” She smiles softly and looks deep into the cave, Thor can see it clear as day, so was she. 

~~~

Permanent Taglist (open): @witch-of-letters @tonystankschild @morsmordrethings @buckysdumbmetalarm @marvelsangels @momobaby227 @weirdlyokaywithit @disgustangg @bucky-blogs @sebbbystaaan @geeksareunique @stuckonjbbarnes @ellieslifefails @mushyjellybeans @lovesmesomehiddles @nat-alia-novna

Bucky Taglist (open): @bxrnsfeyson​ @brilliantbellesoares @supraveng @chubby-dumplin @meganlikesfandoms @mood-pancakes

#Bex500WritingChallenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes greek myth au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfiction

[belladonnaappreciation]

Blake Belladonna and Myself.

Here’s the thing. I’m gonna tell you a bit about some semi dark times in my life. So, Trigger warnings are applied here for those that suffer or have suffered from Physical, Mental, Emotional, and Sexual abuse from a partner or parental figure. And hopefully that will shed some light on what I am going to say about my connection to my favorite RWBY character. Blake Belladonna. 

When I was about two years old my parents divorced. My mother had met this man by the name of Robert Domin. They got married and as a two year old I was excited to have a dad again. Seeing as my actual dad was not allowed to see me at the time due to my mothers manipulative tactics and managing to get a stronger custody hold on us than she should have. So this man, Robert Domin, He seemed like the greatest father figure alive. I looked up to this man until I was about 5 years old.  That man went from what I thought was a blessing..... to a wolf in sheeps clothing. My mother often had to work a tad later than he did. She worked at a bank and actually did an amazing job. So she was often stuck working later. Rob would get my brother in the shower and when he got out I was next. He would wait until he heard the water running, since we were 5 and 6 we had to leave the door open just in case something happened there was no chance of it being locked, after I had began getting in the shower he would creep into the room without saying anything and approach me. I don’t know the reason..... nor do I think I ever will...... But he would grab me by the arm and proceed to spank me as hard as he could several times.  Now, spankings. Not the worst thing. But he would do it until I was unable to sit down without feeling like I had knives in my rear. (Attempted to say that as humorlessly as I could.But feel free to laugh at the other ways I could have said it.) And this went on for the next 4 and a half years. My mother never caught on because I would often hide the pain or just flat out run away to dress myself whenever she was home.  Jump ahead to 10 year old me. Despite the traumas left behind by Robert I was excelling at school. I loved books and had actually begun the Harry Potter series.

I thoroughly enjoyed the series! I wanted to grow up to be as sassy as Snape, as Brave as Harry. and as Courageous as Harry. I had good friends and things were..... happy. Aside from the man I still had to come home to after school. Fortunately we moved to Jacksonville, Florida. He decided to divorce my mother because he did not want to move to Florida. I had thought that things were finally going my way. Until I found out my mom had been seeing a man by the name of Douglas Humphrey. Now here’s the trip. Amazing at first. He took us mudding in a big old truck and with a couple of four wheelers! It was awesome! We watched NASCAR together, we went and saw the 3rd spider-man movie in theaters together! But it didn’t last long. I had broken my foot while playing around with my brother but he had told me it wasn’t broken. To walk it off. My mother wanted me to go to the hospital but he wouldn’t let her take me. When she tried to leave anyways he got scary..... I spent 4 DAYS crawling around the house and limping with tears in my eyes at school. I kept telling everybody I was fine at school. But finally my mom had him take me to the hospital because it got to the point where I couldn't even walk on it without crying. The doctors took X-rays and found I had a break in between my big toe and what I call the index toe. I’m sure there’s a name for it but that’s what I call it. The doctors had to do whats called “resetting” because my food had actually partially healed. But it was very much so incorrect. They had to break my foot again. And this time it hurt worse. When I cried, as all kids would, He smacked me upside the head and told me to “Man up”. That was the first time he had hit me. And it.... gave me a feeling of impending doom. I was terrified that he was gonna turn out to be just like Rob. And I can say that I was wrong..... He was worse. Not only did he let his children walk all over us and do whatever they wanted to us. But he would punish my brother and I for retaliating. He would push us, choke us, he even held us while his children would hit us. He would physically abuse our own mother in front of us.He caused my mother and my Aunt to turn on each other..... I had to save my mothers life from my aunt. My brother managed to get her outside and I went and helped my mother up and locked her and myself in the bathroom..... She had a broken nose.... several cuts and gashes all over her face. Our living room was a literal bloody crime scene. It looked like somebody DIED in there. I had to lie to child protective services. I HAD TO DENY MYSELF AN ESCAPE FROM AN ABUSIVE ENVIRONMENT. Because if I had left.... I’m pretty sure he would have killed my mother....  I was thankfully removed from that situation and sent to live with my grandmother back home in Illinois. Then proceed the best years of my life. I finally met my best friend. Was the guy that a lot of people avoided. But those who did interact with me either loved me or hated me. And.... I felt normal. I FELT SAFE for once in my life.

Fast forward to age 19. I’ll keep this one a bit shorter.  I was in a semi-broken home living with my mother once again. Except there wasn’t any man trying to hit me. Or abuse me. A guy who was a bit of an ass hole but relatively harmless none the less was there instead. I had two baby sisters who I love so very much and are my best friends to this day. My mother and I got into a fight about money and she kicked me out. I wound up living on the streets. I thankfully had a job. But would constantly be found couch surfing or sleeping either inside a McDonald, which I had to buy something every couple hours to not be kicked out, or I would be sleeping under a highway bridge near my job. I met a guy who was really sweet. He said he wanted to fix the injustices that had been done to me. Just to clarify I am Bi-sexual. But I avoid men romantically for reasons you are about to learn. He sought to right the wrongs and love me for me. He wanted to help me heal. My traumas. My scars. My past. He made me feel..... whole. To this day I can’t recall his last name. But his first name haunts me. ad I hadn’t realized just how much until I met a particular character in RWBY.

ADAM. The fall of beacon hurt. But the part that hurt the most wasn’t Ruby losing two friends. It wasn’t Penny. It wasn’t Pyrrah. It was Adam. Fucking. Taurus. I couldn’t recall previous mentions of his name from earlier in the show. But Blake catching sight of him as he butchered Yang at the end of Volume 3. The terror in Blake's eyes struck a very personal chord with me. I have seen Adam after he and I have gone our separate ways..... and it truly is that terrifying.

My heart sank. You could hear the despair filling her soul. And it hurt me. My anxiety was at a high and honestly..... Hearing her say his name..... Adam... It terrified me. Adam Taurus represented everything I HATED about my Adam. The lies.... manipulation..... the mental and emotional abuse.  Admittedly I had written Blake off as the stereo typical moody, edgy, goth teen character. Because I had neglected to watch trailers for anyone except Ruby. I was certain Ruby Rose was going to be my favorite because she was fun and exciting and bad ass. But I would only be proven wrong in time.

Come Volume 6. Learning more about Blake’s past and her struggle with Adam. Her demons haunting her constantly. We all know why she ran. And why she feels the need to take on Adam alone. But you can see during their whole fight. She not fighting to beat him. She is NOT fighting to best her abuser. She is fighting to SURVIVE against someone she knows she could not beat on her own. But she still feels as though she HAS to try. Because this is HER battle. This is HER demon.  She does not even register the idea of asking Yang for help. And this.... also hit home very hard. I have been struggling with my demons for years. Not letting anyone in to understand them. Until I met my current group of friends. one of which is here on tumblr. And she helped me realize why I love Blake so much. ( @songbirdforever​ )  Blake realizing she could let people in and help her with this fight.... It helped me open up more to the people I care about.

Much like when Blake is able to set her fears aside and show a resolve unlike anything she has put forward with Yang being there. She gains the will to fight her demon. Yang, her friend, being there. Even though Blake did not tell her she needed her. And that Blake did not WANT her to be there out of fear of Yang getting hurt. She didn’t have a choice. She knew Yang would never leave her until she knew she was safe. 

Blake's Demon had already lashed out and maimed a loved one (Yang) once already. And seeing that same loved one face her demons with a resolve that she could not bring to muster up herself gave her a reason to stand firm. To stay her ground and tell him that she is not afraid anymore. Together. Blake and Yang kill Adam. Almost in mental synchronization they know what each other needs to succeed. This is a bond forged in fires that were kept by the demons of the past and fueled by scars. 

This is why I love her so much. She has not only shown me that it’s okay to not be able to fight your demons on your own. That sometimes you lose the struggle and cave.... But whether you know it or not.... someone sees your struggle. And there is going to be that one person that will always be there for you whether you want them to be or not. In your darkest hour the person you need will find their way to you and help you fight these battles. The victim turned victor. 

She has found someone she can confide in.... and someone who can help her heal. And it makes me so happy. In conclusion.... Blake's demons and my demons share a scary amount of beats. Including the point of us both being mentally and emotionally tortured by a man named Adam. A man who promised us safety and love. A man who betrayed us and only when we were all but destroyed did we manage to escape.

She found her Happiness. And I hope to one day be in the same light that she is.  Thank you all so much for taking the time to read this. I hope this explains why I have absolutely nothing but love for Blake Belladonna and can even see myself in her. As well as my undying support for the bees. This post is.... a lot more personal than I ever thought I would have gotten on this sight. But I couldn’t fully express my love and identification of this character without telling you what I have. And if any of you ever need an ear... I am always here to listen. I love you all. And I want you all to know you have a friend in me. Now I end this post with a question: Is there a character in the world of remnant that you find yourself identifying with? Why? BONUS BLEP:

#RWBY #rwby7 #rwby spoilers #blakebelladonna belladonnaappreciation ifuckinglovethischaractersomuchyoudontevenknow #belladonnaappreciation #blep bumblb bumblebee thebees iloveyouall

[onestowatch]

12 Fire Artists to Worship This Leo Season

Cancer season is over and it’s time to emerge from this emotion-filled past month with our heads held high as the sun transitions into Leo AKA its ruling planet. From July 23 to August 22, get ready for a great shift of energy— it’s time to express yourself freely, follow your heart, and allow yourself to be happy. Whether Leos are laughing at their own jokes, enjoying being the favorite in many situations, threatening to hurt anyone who messes with their friends, or online shopping, we can’t help but love these fiery, warm-hearted, passionate, and stubborn lions of the zodiac.

The energy is here, the drama is in the air, and this is a reminder to check yourself this season: Is __ actually that important or are you just being dramatic? Mercury’s retrograde ends on July 31, opening the door to improved communication in our relationships. We might also witness some drama in the first week or two of August as Mercury enters Leo on August 11 until the 15th, paired with impulsive energy in the first week of Leo season.

The new moon in Leo on August 1st might bring a surge of opportunities and passion towards love and money, with added influence by Mars and Venus, so grab ahold of these moments and indulge. 

Careers that allow for free, artistic expression of oneself is super important for a lot of Leos, so it’s no surprise that this group of fire signs have had success in building their careers in music. Let’s dive into 13 ambitious Leo artists who you should celebrate this astrological season.

Finneas – Born on July 30, 1997

Leo’s have a very strong sense of community, and care very deeply about their family and friends and singer, songwriter, and producer Finneas exemplifies those traits. Having produced and co-written music for his sister (who is also a fire sign), and toured with her, Finneas proves that he’s just a guy who cares strongly about those close to him, which also rings true when listening to his heartfelt lyrics.

Charli XCX – Born on August 2, 1992

British pop star Charli XCX is unstoppable. Even if you didn’t know she is a Leo, it wouldn’t be hard to guess she is a fire sign. Leo’s aren’t afraid to be in the spotlight, and they actually thrive off of attention. Every day, Charli XCX’s powers grow stronger, and we’re here for it. Her new album, Charli, which is set to come out next month will even feature fellow Leo Clairo! 

Yungblud – Born on August 5, 1998

This Leo is theatrical, highly energetic, and endlessly passionate about his vision. YUNGBLUD is someone you can’t easily forget, like a successful Leo. He is “a fookin Leo” to a T. The English singer never holds back on his guitar-heavy, rhythm-driven rock hip-hop sound. He’s rebellious, filled with raw passion, and energetic; and so is his music. His individuality rings through his genre-bending sound, like a true, proud Leo.

Shawn Mendes – Born on August 8, 1998

When you think about Shawn Mendes, it’s hard not to think about how lovable the guitar-playing, humble Canadian artist is. His songs are consistent bops in persistent Leo style, and he’s unafraid to shift his sound as he wants. Shawn Mendes is incredibly passionate about making music that he likes, and throughout his career has developed a strong, very passionate army of fans.

And I guess he even had a plushy lion growing up named Leo (coincidence?!?), and you can actually buy a replica of his childhood stuffed lion here if you’re so inclined.

Tierra Whack – Born on August 11, 1995

Tierra Whack is vivacious and unafraid to celebrate herself like a strong Leo. She speaks her truth, and knows that “Leo’s rule the world.” Leos are unafraid of having egos and are proud of their accomplishments and the road that led them there. The Philadelphia native is the embodiment of a true Leo. She’s theatrical. She’s dominant. Her contemporary R&B style is unique, creative, and filled with her own individual style.

Alejandro Aranda AKA Scarypoolparty – Born on August 11, 1994

Alejandro Aranda AKA Scarypoolparty is a creative, warmhearted, and ambitious Leo. After gaining attention and followers after participating on season 17 of American Idol, wooing the likes of Katy Perry, Lionel Richie, and Luke Bryan; LA-based singer/songwriter/guitarist Aranda worked on defining who he wants to be as a musician. Post American Idol, he picked up the moniker Scarypoolparty and hasn’t looked back often. He knows what he wants, like a true Leo, and is unafraid to take risks in order to succeed.

Lennon Stella – Born on August 13, 1999

This Canadian Leo is endlessly glamorous and fearlessly optimistic. Lennon Stella’s career kicked off on Youtube, where she posted videos with her younger sister that accumulated millions of streams. This Leo knew she had talent at a young age, and has created a name for herself despite only turning 20-years-old in August. Her upbeat sound, accompanied with her velvety vocals and  synthy, pop production, make her music addictive.

Greyson Chance – Born on August 16, 1997

Greyson Chance knows who he is and he’s not afraid of showing it. The Oklahoma-raised pop artist is a natural born leader who makes damn good music. He found great success at a very young age on Youtube when his performance of Lady Gaga's "Paparazzi" at a talent show went viral, which led him into the spotlight. He later left the music scene and spent time at University, studying and rediscovering his love for music. So, like the Leo he is, he then came back into the music scene, releasing heartfelt indie/pop synth-filled sad bangers.

Clairo – Born on August 18, 1998

DIY music can be very Leo, and Clairo is the DIY bedroom pop queen. From posting warmhearted desktop cam music videos on Youtube to releasing sweet, simple tracks on Soundcloud, Clairo’s humble roots show the hard work she has put in to get to where she is now. This loveable Leo is just doing her own thing. Her sound is constantly maturing and changing, and has come a long way since singing about “Flamin Hot Cheetos” in her bedroom.

Kacey Musgraves – Born on August 21, 1988

Leos are here for a good time, and what’s a better time than listening to Kacey Musgraves?!? This ambitious, successful Leo, I mean her 2018 album Golden Hour won Album Of The Year for crying out loud, and three other GRAMMY Awards on top of that, manifests big Leo energy. Kacey Musgraves has an addictive country sound that can stop people in their tracks. She knows she has talent, and she knows her worth, and encourages others to be comfortable and proud with themselves.

Jesse Rutherford – Born on August 21, 1991

Jesse Rutherford, the frontman of the R&B influenced alt-rock group The Neighbourhood, is one stylish Leo. The singer is mostly known for his fashion sense and unforgettable blend of R&B and rock-fueled vocals. He’s a theatrical Leo in the sense that he looks and acts like the rock star that he is. He also has a flair for designer brands, which Leo’s sometimes can’t help but dip their toes (or whole body) in.

Dua Lipa – Born on August 22, 1995

Like the fabulous, ever-glowing British vocalist/songwriter Dua Lipa once said, “LEO SEASON IS ALIVE AND THRIVING.” Leos are self-expressive and unafraid to hold back, just like Dua Lipa is with her music. Her emergence into the music scene was explosive, gaining attention from Lana Del Rey’s management team at a young age, signing her to Warner Music Group. After a few years of making music, turned from a rising pop artist in 2016 to a certified pop star in the following year, which later birthed “New Rules,” what some might say was the soundtrack of 2017. This Leo (and Ones to Watch alumni) has established herself as a prominent voice in the pop community, and is one you can not overlook.

Since astrology doesn’t stop at knowing what your star sign is, you can check out Dua Lipa’s full chart here. 

#Leo Season #Zodiac #finneas #yungblud #charlie xcx #shawn mendes #tierra whack #scarypoolparty #alejandro aranda #lennon stella #greyson chance #clairo #kacey musgraves #jesse rutherford #dua lipa

[themispronounced]

Coffee Therapy II

“I’m talking to someone.” He said, out of nowhere. “I now believe in love at first sight.” He declared to no one.

He showed her a picture of some girl that he’s been talking with. They met through a friend but the girl lives in London. “Let me see another picture.”

He showed her another one and then another after that.

“She looks like Chloe.” She proclaimed, so sure of herself.

“What?! How makes you say that?!”

She shrugged. She just looks like Chloe... the girl whom he fell madly inlove with; and the source of his sadness. “’Cause that’s what she looks like.” She said, smiling. Obviously enjoying his reaction. “Same black shirt and somehow the necklace.”

“Why are you like that?!”

“What now!”

“Where do you get that?! How do you do that? For fuck’s sake.” She laughed harder. “And, mare, when she speaks... she speaks like Chloe.”

“So you’re channeling all your feelings to this girl?”

“She’s already 30 years old. You know I’m always attracted to modest introverts who can’t look straight in the eye because of self esteem issues.”

Right.

“How’d you know she’s like that? You spoke to her via video call already?”

“Yeah. Last Sunday. Problem?”

She shrugged. “Nothing...”

He showed another photo.

“Hey Chloe. What’s up? How are you?” She greeted the photo just to tease him.

“That’s not her! Stop it! I’m still hurting you know...”

“I was just asking!”

He glared at her while she tried to look innocent. He was like this with her, all walls down and a little bit childish. He’s not the tough guy everyone knows. He’s this annoying little guy who is very much dependent on her - emotionally.

They were enjoying their coffee and garlic bread when he asked about the girlfriend.

“Do you think the girl is lucky?”

“What do you mean?” She asked while munching the last remaining piece of bread

“Like is she lucky to have Kris?” Oh, the girlfriend.

She took a deep breath. Well, is she?

Looking back at everything that happened, she answered, “Kris is a nice guy; very mature and responsible.”

Indeed he is. If there are no complications and the stars have aligned for them, she thinks they would make a nice couple.

“She’s lucky, I guess.” She concluded. “Why?”

He leaned back looking at his bestfriend. “Nothing. I’m just curious. I wanna know what you think.”

He understood her, of course. He felt that way with Chloe too. Even though she left him without a word he knew to himself that if Chloe comes back he will welcome her with open arms. And maybe, just maybe, that’s how she’s feeling too. If at some point Kris messages her, she might just welcome him back.

The sadness became noticeable again through her eyes. She began to feel a little bit sentimental. While fidgeting with her fingers she said, “I don’t know, mare. With everything that has happened, I still cannot speak ill of him.”

He nodded. “Let’s wait for a few more months.”

He wanted her to move on. She doesn’t deserve any of this. He wants her to find someone who will love her the same way he loved Kris or Luke, the love that she truly deserves. He may not be capable of a lot of things but seeing his bestfriend that way kinda sucks. Also, he’s been waiting for her to get married. As a matter of fact, he already have a letter prepared.

“He left me when I’m no longer lovable and desirable.” She said. “He was only there during the happy moments.” She smiled weakly.

He stared at her for a moment not knowing what to say.

“You know he’s not that handsome but... his personality? Win.” She tried to smile to make the mood a little lighter but her bestfriend is serious. Probably thinking about something. “But he didn’t understood you on the major cases.” He finally said.

It’s true. He didn’t.

She wanted to cry ‘cause it’s true. She wanted to laugh at the same time ‘cause she didn’t really want to cry.

That's all she wanted from him - understanding. Sadly, she received none; at least from her point of view. “Yeah...” She trailed off, looking down. The next words made her feel like there’s a lump in her throat. “You know what? While I was being paranoid, he’s the only person who can ease it; the cause and the reliever. Sadly, he left.

That’s the most painful of all. Out of everything that happened, goddamn mare, ‘yun pinakamasakit.” She let out a sad smile. God, it hurts. Just thinking about it hurts a lot.

“Unrequited love I guess?”

She shrugged. “He’s just not 100% with me while, on the other hand, I am with him. You know, all in.

Plus, he’s timid.”

“Also, it’s easy for him to let you go because he has a girlfriend. He has someone whom he can get back to.” He added, adding fuel to the fire.

Of course.

She was quiet for a moment; soaking it all in.

He’s not one to filter out his words. Whatever he feels and wants to say, without thinking, he lets it out. And that’s one thing she loves about him - his honesty.

She lifted her head, looking all defeated. “At the back of my mind, even before all this, I kept thinking: People only likes me when I’m okay.” She paused. This is the first time she’s saying it out loud and it kinda stings. “They only like me when I’m happy and easy to be around with - chill, laid back - but on my ugly days, when I’m not okay anymore, when the smile fades, when I can’t seem to control all the emotions inside me... I find myself alone. No one’s there to put up with me. No one’s willing to be there for me.” Is she really not worth it?

She doesn’t like self pity but she can’t help but say it.

“And he proved it.” She finally said. Damn, he proved it. “Mare, he didn’t even ask what’s happening inside me. Not one question flew that night to ease whatever hell I’m feeling. He said he tried to understand me but... how? How can you understand something if you didn’t even try...” She was trying to look for an answer, obviously flustered, but of course the guy in front of her can’t give her one. He only nodded.

“Ouch.” She joked, trying to laugh it off. But nothing was ever funny to begin it.

“Luke’s the only one who stood by you.” He finally said.

Ah, Luke. The boyfriend of seven years. The guy who’s willing to go through hell with her. The one who listened, the one who tried to understand and walk with all of her demons. Yes, that guy.

“I hate you.”

“Well... you know, he’s not the only Luke in the world. Maybe the one for you is on the other side of the globe.”

Here we go again. He’s trying to persuade her to go with him to France so he can chase Chloe - to which she thinks was a bad idea. “So I can go back here broken hearted? And it’s going to be your fault again. Everything’s your fault.”

“Why is it my fault AGAIN?! May I remind you that our life was fine before we met them.”

It’s true though. They’re both in a long term relationship and then somehow things spiraled from there. She was the first one to end her relationship with Luke. On the other hand, after two years, he met Chloe and ended his relationship with his then girlfriend. From there, basically everything went downhill.

“Maybe we’re just on our third phase.” He said. “Which would be the last right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure if you’re the one who told me about this or I just read it somewhere but the third phase is perceived to be the hardest because it’s the one that would eventually last but kinda hard to look for due to past experiences.”

“Oh. I think the first one is the puppy love then the second is the long term, right? The one whom we thought would be the one.”

“Second one is the long term phase and the closest. Yeah. That’s the one.” He confimed.

“So, what do you think, mare? Will it take some time for us to meet this third phase person? ‘Cause I must admit sometimes I do miss being in a relationship. The long term kind.”

“Chloe’s my third phase. She’s my soulmate.” He declared to the universe as if the universe would do something about it. Come on now, the girl left him without any goodbye. “You...” He said, looking at her. “You’d probably get married maybe on your 30s, mare, and I would be your uhh.. what’s that called? Bridesmaid?”

“Man of honor!”

How dare he say that he’s just her bridesmaid? No way. He’s definitely her man of honor.

They continued talking about their future. Where their vacation would take place after this pandemic. How they would share an apartment or condominium and how she would deal with his homies when they come to visit. What would be the arrangement if he brings home a girl and they’re going to have sex on the other room. She would definitely go out and wait for them to finish.

“No. Let’s get a condo with just one room. Two beds.” He said.

“No. I don’t want you in my room. You’re fucking annoying.”

How she would be the only witness at his and Chloe’s supposed to be wedding and how she’s the only godmother of all his children - if he would ever have some. They have so many plans together that other people thought they’re actually dating.

For awhile, everything seemed to be addressed. They both listened to each other’s drama and they felt safe telling everything to each other. For awhile, something heavy was lifted. And for awhile, they both feel fine.

It really is nice to have a friend.

[norskies]

Every single thing I noticed and felt while watching Taylor’s LWYMMD music video

By now I think it’s a fair assumption to make that you have already seen @taylorswift ‘s new video for Look What You Made Me Do (it had over 39 million views in the first 24 hours). If you’re like me you may have rewatched it about 13 million times trying to decipher all the hidden meanings. If you’re not (cool) like me, you may have just watched it once and wondered: “what on earth did I just see??”.

Lucky for you I’ve decided to document my entire emotional journey through the 4:15 video. Disclaimer 1: many of these theories are my own opinions or theories I’ve read from other fans. I do not pretend to understand the entire genius of T-Swift. Disclaimer 2: I am a 100% biased Taylor Swift fan and therefore this analysis is 100% biased with my love for Tay. 

HERE WE GO

Ok, opening scene. Spooky. Fits the soft but slightly creepy lullaby intro. Honestly thought we might be stepping into Hogwarts.

Here is one of the first of many “TS” we will see throughout the video.

For anyone who has been following Taylor the past year, this is a pretty clear reference to the online hate Taylor received after being “exposed” by Kim Kardashian (note: she was in no way exposed). Trolls began to fill social media with “RIP Taylor’s career” and “Taylor Swift Is Over Party”. It is a fitting place to begin the video.

Does that dress look familiar to anyone? It appears to be the same dress Taylor wore in the Out Of The Woods music video (the last video from the 1989 era...symbolic right?).

What is that on the tombstone behind Taylor? Nils Sjoberg. This was the alias name Taylor used when she helped write Calvin Harris’ “This Is What You Came For” (he later appeared to be less than happy once Taylor started receiving credit for the song). 

We now see the old Taylor that Zombie Taylor is burying. This Taylor is dressed the same as when Taylor attended the Met Gala in 2014 (marking the beginning of the 1989 era). Here we literally see post-1989 Taylor burying pre-1989 Taylor. *tears*

Taylor transforms from the graveyard into this beautiful scene. Several things to point out here. Taylor is almost literally drowning in jewels. Perhaps alluding to the media’s perception of Taylor being money obsessed? If you look closely, we also see a single dollar bill lying in the bathtub with her. Most likely referencing the symbolic 1 dollar Taylor requested in her countersuit against a former radio DJ who sexually assaulted her (Taylor won this case). Finally, and this may be a stretch but notice on the floor to the left of the bathtub what looks like a heart shaped locket? It’s possible this is the same locket that Calvin Harris gave Taylor for their 1 year anniversary. Wow. Brilliant. 

ENTER SNAKES. We now get all the snake references we could ever need (also clearing up the snake video clues Taylor teased just a few days before releasing LWYMMD). The snakes themselves are a reference to the hate Taylor received after the Kim/Kanye blow up. Haters filled her Instagram and Twitter with snake emojis implying that Taylor herself was a snake. Looks like the joke is on them now. Also notice the subtle, “et tu brute” on the chair? We see this several times in this scene, of course referring to the betrayal Taylor has felt from people she thought were her friends. 

And Snakes! Check out Taylor sipping on her tea that she now gets to serve up. It’s her time to tell the story and she’s doing it with this BA Salazar Slytherin look. 

The golden car crash. This is an interesting scene because it has many interpretations. My gut reaction was Katy Perry. The feud is well known and Katy added fuel to the fire by releasing her song “Swish Swish” that was meant to be a dig at Tay. I think she looks very much like Katy here with the sunglasses and the short blonde hair. Notice she is even holding a single Grammy (something that Katy Perry does not have). However, it’s also been pointed out that this may also be a Kim Kardashian reference (which I will discuss later).

A further analysis of the car crash shows the paparazzi taking pictures after Taylor crashes. Perhaps symbolically saying that the media loves to see Taylor suffer and fail? 

Two things to note here. 1) Jaguar? Your guess is as good as mine. 2) The cute little guy is wearing a golden 13. 

Next, we find Taylor in what looks like a giant bird cage. Wearing orange to perhaps symbolize that she feels like a prisoner at times? We also see a snake tattoo on her right leg. 

At this point in the song, Taylor says “and threw a feast”. This could be a reference to KP’s song Bon Appetit. But it is unclear. Also, notice the rat on the table? Yeup just thought I’d point him out. 

Now, this is a fun scene. Tay is robbing a currently undisclosed location. The cat masks could be a cute play at Taylor’s love for cats. Or could be another hit at Katy. Either way, it’s a great scene. Her sweatshirt reads “blind for love” as we know Taylor frequently referred to herself as a hopeless romantic. 

We are now introduced to biker chick Taylor. It might seem a little out of place at first. But remember when Taylor got hate for her Bad Blood video apparently ripping off of Britney Spear’s Toxic? This very well may be alluding to that. 

Absolutely love this part. We now see what Taylor was robbing. A streaming company. Of course. After the backlash, she got from leaving Spotify and writing her letter to Apple this scene makes perfect sense. Side note: absolutely adored Taylor’s letter to Apple. You go girl. 

What is Taylor doing dictating what looks like an army of life size barbies? This is a reference to the “squad” and the comments Taylor received that her friendship circle was more like a cult of freakishly perfect looking women as opposed to a genuine group of friends. 

Which of course leads us to the falling out of the squad the media claimed happened but didn’t. 

Taylor enters the mansion. As soon as she enters the room the men immediately step up to do her bidding. As if Taylor is their commander and they must obey. 

This is our first glimpse of the mysterious airplane Taylor. We only see short glimpses of her but she seems to serve an important role. She perhaps represents the real Taylor that neither the media nor the fans truly get to see or understand fully. 

The boys are back. 8 of them all in line (apparently something only Beyonce is allowed to do if you ask Twitter). She could be representing her past relationships and the scorn she received for each one. Fun fact: it’s Taylor’s back up dancers from the 1989 world tour! 

The I <3 TS shirt. Tom Hiddleston wore an I <3 TS shirt while dating Taylor. He got mocked and Taylor got called manipulative for “forcing him to wear it”. Taking a wild guess here, but pretty sure Tom makes his own wardrobe choices.

This is our first real glimpse at the “Reputation” era Taylor. She’s dark. Her hair is slicked back. And she looks like she is 100% done apologizing. She is standing on top of a mound of the “old Taylors”. 

Shoutout to Fearless era Taylor with the iconic 13 on her hand. What a gem. 

This is one of the best shots in the video. A look at the past decade of Taylor. How many Taylor’s can you spot? 

More snakes. Side note: You can actually buy this snake ring on Taylor’s merch store. Taylor now reveals to us the most anticipated line of the song. “I’m sorry the old Taylor can’t come to the phone right now. Why? Oh, cuz she’s dead.” This line brings the entire song together as well as the symbolism of Taylor wiping her social media a week prior to LWYMMD release. The old Taylor is dead. The haters have killed her. 

Taylor breaks it down with her backup dancers to some pretty great choreography. I like to think of this as shade to all the people who made fun of Taylor’s dancing abilities. Our girl can dance.

Annnnnnnnd boom! Our Jaguar friend is back. Still unsure what he represents but he’s pretty cute. 

SNAKES 

Let’s pause to appreciate the adorable wink Tay gives us here. Reputation may be a darker album than we are used to but Taylor is still the light-hearted girl we’ve always known. 

Wow, she’s like Super Woman. 

This is one of the best views we get of the mysterious airplane Taylor. Who are you??? 

We finally come to the last and most important scene. 15 Taylors. 14 lined out in front and one back on the airplane. There just so happens to be 15 songs on the new album reputation...coincidence?? Also, notice TS6 written on the end of the plane? Subtle genius. 

You Belong With Me Taylor is precious. She’s so happy and genuinely surprised that she has accomplished all that she has. But everyone hates her for that and will drag her down until she no longer will show that much genuine and pure happiness at an award show again. Also, recognize that shirt from the YBWM music video? Only now it’s slightly different. This time it has real names of Taylor’s real friends you might recognize. Like Selena, Ed, and Jack. 

As the scene continues we see Shake It Off Taylor mock YBWM Taylor for being surprised all the time. Mansion Taylor calls Zombie Taylor/SIO Taylor a b**ch and Zombie Talyor responds with “don’t call me that!” Alluding to Kanye calling Taylor this in his song “Famous”. In real life, Taylor responded by making a very strong statement against Kanye’s words during her Album of the Year acceptance speech at the Grammys later that year. 

A particularly heart-wrenching scene. Fearless Taylor tries to calm everyone down but gets shut down by We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together (Tour) Taylor, calling her a fake. We see the young innocent Taylor begin to cry. The young sweet girl who got stomped on by the world for making music about love. It is sure to elicit a few tears. 

“There she goes playing the victim again”. Taylor is literally beating the haters to the punch. 

Met Gala Taylor Asks Katy/Kim Taylor what she’s doing and she responds with “getting receipts...gonna edit this later.” This could be interpreted in two ways. If this is meant to be Katy, it could be referencing the song “Swish Swish” where Katy claims that “karma keeps receipts”. Or if it is Kim, it would be naturally referencing the snapchat videos Kim perhaps “edited” of Kanye and Taylor’s phone conversation. Side note: it is illegal to record people without their consent in certain states, Kim. 

Finally, we see 2009 VMA Taylor who had been interrupted by Kanye West while she was accepting her award for Best Female Music Video of the Year. She quotes 2016 Taylor by saying “I would very much like to be excluded from this narrative”. Which all the other Taylor’s and symbolically the world respond with... 

“SHUT UP”. Here Taylor is telling us that no matter what she does or doesn’t do, she will be judged. It isn’t fair but it is something she has accepted. She will no longer be providing any explanation. There will just be reputation.

#lwymmd #musicvideo #taylor swift #reputation

[cutsliceddiced]

New top story from Time: The 10 Best Songs of 2019

2019 was a year of upheaval in the pop music world, with new voices rising to the fore through unexpected pathways. Lizzo’s career was jolted forward by a Netflix trailer; Lil Nas X rode TikTok and Twitter to the top of the charts. Stars emerged out of Brooklyn (Pop Smoke), Spain (Rosalía) and Nigeria (Burna Boy), expertly wielding social media and huge streaming numbers to captivate audiences across the world.

And as new voices claimed the spotlight, some of pop’s biggest names, from Charli XCX to Dua Lipa, continued to put out irresistible, vital earworms, as well. Here are TIME’s best songs of 2019.

10. “Crowded Table,” The Highwomen

The fact that The Highwomen even exists is impressive. The new supergroup brings together four of country music’s most prolific women: Maren Morris, a country-pop star with powerful vocals and mainstream hits like “The Middle”; Brandi Carlile, the Grammy-recognized folk artist whose work is marked by wry brilliance; Amanda Shires, a notable fiddler and country mainstay; and Natalie Hemby, the heavy-hitting songwriter who’s been the secret weapon for artists like Kacey Musgraves, Miranda Lambert and Lady Gaga on A Star Is Born. That all four found the time to make an album together speaks to their commitment to claiming space for women’s voices in a historically patriarchal industry. And that their music—as exemplified by the beautiful ballad “Crowded Table”—weaves in political statements only adds a layer of richness. “I want a house with a crowded table,” they insist, “and a place by the fire for everyone / Let us take on the world while we’re young and able, and bring us back together when the day is done.” The line works as a mission statement for these four distinct artists: make great music and complicate our definitions of womanhood, motherhood and femininity in the process. They make that statement over an unabashedly pretty melody, going in and out of duets and harmonies with seamless, generous sweetness. (Bruner)

9. “Simmer,” Mahalia ft. Burna Boy

Ever since going viral for a Colors Studios performance in 2017, the British singer Mahalia has enjoyed a steady rise, scoring hits including “I Wish I Missed My Ex” and the Ella Mai-assisted “What You Did.” On “Simmer,” she repurposes the burbling bassline of the 1997 dancehall classic “Who Am I” by Beenie Man, using it to anchor a love story in which a relationship verges on boiling over. A sultry and irrepressible appearance from the Nigerian singer Burna Boy, one of the year’s breakout stars, turns the song from a B-side into a global summer anthem. (Chow)

8. “So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings,” Caroline Polachek

Caroline Polachek has long worked on the fringes of the mainstream pop world: she fronted the indie pop band Chairlift for a decade and racked up songwriting credits for Beyoncé, Solange, Charli XCX and Travis Scott. But she takes center stage on this year’s Pang, her major label debut album with Sony. The best of the bunch is “So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings,” a cheekily named song propelled by handclaps and strutting muted guitars. But while the song sounds readymade for a night out, it drips with lovesick anxiety: “I cry on the dancefloor, it’s so embarrassing,” Polachek confesses. The music video—in which she skips and spins in cowboy boots across a barren, hellish landscape—perfectly reflects the song’s paradoxically carefree potency. (Chow)

7. “Too Much,” Carly Rae Jepsen

Carly Rae Jepsen has built a cult following on the power of her brand of pure, heart-on-your-sleeve pop. (Her widely-praised third album was even nakedly called Emotion.) “Too Much” synthesizes everything that makes the Canadian artist, best known for her 2012 earworm “Call Me Maybe,” beloved. It’s got relatable, on-the-nose lyrics; a commitment to catchy, sweet melodies; all sung with Jepsen’s intimately breathy vocals. Most of all, “Too Much” feels intensely honest. “When I feel it, then I feel it too much / I’ll do anything to get the rush,” she sings, then turns it around: “Is this too much?” Her ability to swing from wild joy to insecurity—all over a shimmering dance tune that’s as infectious as anything she’s produced—is a triumph. (Bruner)

6. “Crime Pays,” Freddie Gibbs & Madlib

Bandana, the widely acclaimed album from rapper Freddie Gibbs and producer Madlib, was forged in trying circumstances: Gibbs says he wrote most of the record in an Austrian jail while awaiting his eventual acquittal from sexual assault charges. Given this initial disconnect between the pair, it’s astonishing how perfectly Gibbs’ gravelly rhymes coalesce with Madlib’s sun-bleached soul production. “Crime Pays,” in particular, perfectly toes the line between their aesthetic sensibilities: Madlib unearths a pristine sample from jazz fusion artist Walt Barr that conjures both nostalgia and unlimited possibility, while Gibbs confronts the darker realities of chasing the American dream: “Diamonds in my chain, yeah, I slang but I’m still a slave / Twisted in the system, just a number listed on the page.” (Chow)

5. “Don’t Start Now,” Dua Lipa

On her 2017 debut album, Britain’s Dua Lipa established herself as a honey-voiced rising star of mainstream pop. On “Don’t Start Now,” the debut single off her sophomore project, she proves she has something to add to the conversation. And that something is a propulsive, infectious disco sensibility. Made with juicy synths, bubbly percussion and bouncy vocal twists, it’s a tune that celebrates independence and promises joy in the process. Lipa made her name on the cheeky breakup empowerment hit “New Rules”; “Don’t Start Now” follows in that breezy, forward-thinking tradition. “Though it took some time to survive you,” she sings, “I’m better on the other side.” It’s the sound of a new pop era. (Bruner)

4. “Juice,” Lizzo

Lizzo’s “Juice” is a funk-soul self-love dance anthem built to inspire confidence. That’s no fluke; her long-gestating career as a singer, songwriter and flutist has taken off this year thanks to her commitment to the goal of making listeners find assurance in her feel-good, fun-loving lyrics and danceable beats. She kicks things off by turning a fairy tale trope into an affirmation: “Mirror, mirror on the wall, don’t say it, ’cause I know I’m cute,” and ends the song with a bold giggle. With a retro-sounding melody that resonates across generational tastes, the song has already become a dancefloor mainstay. “Juice” sounds like it was perfected in a test kitchen, equal parts joy, cheeky lyricism and timeless appeal. (Bruner)

3. “Welcome to the Party,” Pop Smoke

While mainstream rap is still dominated by trap—the crawling subgenre from Atlanta—artists have also been looking north and taking elements from drill, Chicago’s much faster and frenetic style. “Welcome to the Party,” which was inescapable in Brooklyn this summer and fall, manically races forward, with the 20-year-old rapper’s syllables spilling out in terrifying, clipped bursts. Pop Smoke growls both his threats and boasts in unruly, unpredictable clusters—but even more jarring is producer 808Melo’s bassline, which seems to bubble out of the deepest recesses of the American psyche. (Chow)

2. “Con Altura,” Rosalía x J Balvin

“Con Altura” is a record-breaking collaboration between two Spanish-speaking artists with distinct backgrounds but powerful influences: Spain��s Rosalía is making a name for herself with flamenco-inflected alt-pop on works like her Grammy-nominated, poetically inspired second album El Mal Querer, while J Balvin reigns as one of Latin America’s reggaeton kings and one of the most popular artists on the planet, thanks to his international chart-toppers like “Mi Gente” and “I Like It.” Together on “Con Altura,” they found a sweet spot that mixes a number of musical traditions, from dembow to hip-hop to reggaeton, while still flexing their individual powers. Over spare, specific percussion, Rosalía’s voice rings out with lilting, sing-song precision; Balvin provides a balancing, stable counterpoint. The combination is potent and haunting, hinting at the diversity of Latin music and the creative future it is inevitably heading toward. (Bruner)

1. “Old Town Road,” Lil Nas X

“Old Town Road” contains many opposing truths. It’s both underdog and behemoth; eye-rollingly trivial and slyly progressive; radio-ready hit and oddball meme. This summer, it was both a distraction and the thing you couldn’t escape.

And it was this shapeshifting ability that made “Old Town Road” the ideal cultural artifact for 2019, in its endlessly iterative and argumentative nature. Whether people went online to criticize it, dance to it or remix it, everyone interacted with it some way, continuously pouring fuel as it set record after record.

And as Lil Nas X added to the fire by releasing a stream of remixes, the song became less a single record and more a fluid canvas for transgression. Each new version ruptured a new boundary or norm—whether it was Billy Ray Cyrus singing about his Maserati or BTS member RM delivering bilingual wordplay. Once scorned as outsider—both to Nashville and the music industry at large—Lil Nas himself became the gatekeeper, and then opened the door as wide as possible for everyone else. (Chow)

via https://cutslicedanddiced.wordpress.com/2018/01/24/how-to-prevent-food-from-going-to-waste

#Time #top stories #IFTTT #news

[hogwartsuniversity-rpg]

Sample Application

Hey all! Here is a sample app written for Sirius Black, who admin Zev will be playing! Hopefully, this helps give an idea of what we are looking for, but it should not be taken as a template! 

-Admin Zev

OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION;

Name/Alias: Zevia/Zev

Pronouns: She/Her/s

Age: 18

Timezone: PST

Trigger Warnings: Redacted

Activity Level: On the dash probably a 7-9. As your admin, I will always be around!

About You/Previous Experience: I have admin’d one roleplay before and have been roleplaying for five years. I also aid for a help blog from time to time. Also, see the About Us page.

BASICS;

Desired Character: Sirius Black

Gender/Pronouns: He/Him/s

Sexuality: Bisexual, actively not thinking about this as he is working through internalized homophobia from his upbringing.

FC: Ben Barnes, Matthew Daddario, Ezra Miller

Scholarship Status: None, supportive of the expansion.

Major: Literature

Extracurriculars: Begrudgingly in the Slug Club

PAST;

Sirius Orion Black should have been his parents’ pride and joy. As the eldest son of the eldest son of the eldest son of the Black family, he was expected to be the next great patriarch. The Blacks traced their heritage to a Baronetcy granted after the English Civil War and have an honest-to-goodness framed page from Dungale hanging in the foyer to prove it. However, somewhere along the line one of the ancestors had been a younger son, and when the titled side of the family died out, forgotten drama deprived the surviving branch of inheriting the title. A fact Walburga and Orion Black remain jealous of to this day. Sirius, for his part, couldn't care less about family history, except to laugh at the striking similarity to the Elliots in Persuasion. Lady Susan remains his favorite Austen, but that is mostly because he doesn’t think he makes much of an Anne Elliot. For one thing, he doesn’t see the value in a persuasive temper, though perhaps that’s because he’s spent most of his life fighting against his parents’ expectations. He was meant to be proud and powerful. You can really spit those words out, what with all the P’s, as it didn’t take Sirius long to learn. When he was young he and his parents could play the part well enough; they’d dress him up and he’d smile just right so he might be smirking (like his father did) for all their rich friends, but when they were alone, well… relations between the boy and his parents been frosty for most of Sirius life.

He never liked to talk about it, or think much about it if he could help it, and maybe that’s why he can’t remember when their relationship flew south for the winter and never came back. It could have been when he was five and his parents wouldn’t let his new black friend come over, it could have been when he was eight and first heard them talking about ‘filthy queers,’ or when he was nine, or when he was 6, or, or, or… Or maybe those were only the times' fuel got added to the fire. The truth, he knew deep down, was that in addition to being horrible people, his parents were simply unprepared to be parents. Babies are loud and messy and emotional and everything his parents hated. Sirius later thought of them as more actively abrasive versions of Tom and Daisy Buchanan. They were wealthy and careless and absentee and, well, Fitzgerald never gets into how the daughter grew up in the end.

So, Sirius rebelled. In everything he ever did. He wore his hair long and stayed out too late. He tried to run away three times before he was 15. The third time he got dragged back into the house by his ear he saw Regulus’s face— tired and drawn— and they might be less than a year apart but Sirius never wanted his little brother to look that old again, so he stopped running. Still, he never stopped regarding himself as a soldier in a one-man war and was always searching for the next inch of ground he could gain from his parents. He was determined to love everything they hated. He never regretted fighting them, either. Every cut from a bottle shattering against the wall near his head after Walburga drank too much was a medal of valor. Every bruise Orion left on him (always where clothes would cover it) after Sirius pushed just far enough was proof he was winning. Every screech that pierced his ears was a war cry. Once when Sirius was 13, Regulus asked him if he had any sense of self-preservation whatsoever. “Yes,” Sirius had told his brother, “I’m preserving myself against them. You ought to as well.” Regulus infuriated his brother because he bowed his head and went with all the shit their parents said, but in some ways, Sirius couldn’t help blaming himself. He’d rebelled, he’d separated himself from the Blacks. That had left his parents with only Regulus. They funneled their anger, their hatred, at Sirius, yes, but he knew they pushed their manipulation, their pressure, onto Regulus. As pissed as Regulus made him, he got it. Maybe he didn’t understand it, how he could play their games, but he got it. They were his parents. Hell, Sirius wouldn’t have fought so hard if they weren’t. On some level, Sirius knew he was pushing back because he wanted what every kid wants; for his parents to engage with him, to love him. Regulus sucked up in search of that, Sirius fought back. At least, the war had started that way. By the end, Sirius wanted nothing to do with them, but at its roots, well. Some rich kids smashed expensive cars into trees, he smashed himself into his parents’ ideology. Same basic principle.

As a result, he’d been planning his escape to Uni for practically as long as he could remember. He’d accepted going to Hogwarts as a legacy student, mostly because of the school’s somewhat funky reputation, and actually leaving was one of the most liberating experiences of his life. He’d been to boarding school before, but with overbearing headmasters and Walburga and Orion never more than a short drive away, that hadn’t done much to elevate the stifling nature of his childhood. That said, he’d taken every chance to fuck around in the past and had every intention of continuing the tradition at Uni. He might be able to angst and brood like Mr. fucking Rochester, but he honestly preferred what he would call a certain care-free roughness. Chaotic Good, as he described his sixth form DnD character. Consequently, he’d never been fond of self-reflection, but if he’d bothered, he’d have realized that those first few months with James and Remus and Peter were terrifying. He’d been so angry his whole life, he never really learned how to make friends casually. So, when he met the three of them during Freshers Week and knew in an instant he wanted them to be friends, he threw himself wholly into making it happen. Any scheme James thought up, any late night Remus wanted to stay up talking, any homework Peter wanted to put off to play just one more round of chess, Sirius agreed, no questions asked. He never thought about the possibility of being rejected, only plowed forward with everything he was. In the year that followed at Hogwarts, he did everything in much the same way: full speed ahead, no questions asked.

He didn’t mean to be careless or to run over people's lives with his own, he just couldn’t bring himself to care that he did. Sirius lived for the moments and didn’t see anything wrong with that. He was of the opinion that anyone who had a problem with him, his friends, or their pranks was too sensitive, and they only hated people who deserved it. Grey area was a concept Sirius had a hard time grasping. He and his friends were good, nothing they did could be evil. People like his parents were evil, no one who was associated with them could do anything good. He had no illusions of being perfect, (that, after all, would be boring) but in the end, he was one of the good guys.

As his second year at Hogwarts opens, that certainty is flagging. He’s grown up to realize some of the pranks he’s pulled and the ways he’s acted have been very, very not cool. Other people have told him he needed to lay off before, but he’s always dismissed them as being uptight. He knows he has a… big personality, and that people listened to him, that he could goad people into doing things. So, coming to those realizations, he’s starting to see that he’s been hurting people. And it’s messing with his head. He’s thought back to all those pranks and jokes that had been just so funny only to hear a voice keeps telling him “you are just like your parents.” Whether that particular thought is true or not, he’s trying to change. He’s struggling with what needs to change and the walls of stubbornness he’s built up, but he’s promised himself he’ll at least pay attention. He has no plans to follow the rules to the letter, or anything crazy like that, but he is growing more aware. Of himself, and of the world around him.

EXTRA;

Headcanons:

My bio may have made Sirius sound more brooding and, well, serious than he is. This boy is a goofball— he is cuddly and (deep down) kind, once you get past the layers of well-meaning snark. His friends mean the world to him and yeah, he loves a good party, but he’d sooner take a quiet night talking with friends somewhere the worries of the world can’t find them.

Sirius makes it a point of pride to know both pop and “high” cultural references. He’s a literature major, and very fond of the classics (the Romans were ridiculous and knew how to party), but ultimately, he’s a nerd, as much as he tried to be cool and a “”bad boy.”” He loves Star Wars with his whole heart. Everyone thinks it’s because of Han Solo. In fact, he thinks of James as much more of a Han. He’s cast Peter as Luke, Remus as Leia, and himself as everyone's favorite walking carpet Chewbacca.

Sirius smokes and he’s trying to quit the habit. It just goes so well with his whole aesthetic but, well, people keep telling him it’s “”killing him”” so. He also drinks, but not enough for it to be a problem. He’s only properly drunk once. 

Sirius sometimes thinks he’s more messed up than he has a right to be, and doesn’t like feeling sorry for himself. That said, he’s not that brooding a guy. He’s happy at Hogwarts and it’s not completely wrong to describe him as “carefree.” He loves his friends and he’s a troublemaker. He’s really just a big kid still.

He has two styles of clothes: Cool BadboyTM and 80′s Disaster. He loves ugly sweaters and mortifying the more fashion-minded of his friends. 

He wants to be a good brother and truly loves Regulus, but he feels like he’s let their split go on too long to be mended.

Aesthetic and Quotes: https://fallendog-starblack-aesthetic.tumblr.com/

ANY CHANGES?;

Nope!

#Marauders RP #marauders era rp #marauder rp #harry potter rpg #hogwarts rp #Sirius Black #hogwartsuniadmin