#AND there already was a One True God in Roman times?????

[mrthology]

you know what i've been so obsessed with lately is like, gods being gods in ancient greece, right? and it's these same gods, in their roman forms, that were in the roman empire then too. so imagine some colonizers coming along and killing people to convert and talking about this One True God and calling them fakes and ???? i feel like in the ancient times that's a great way to bring the wrath of the gods upon you, they would not have stood for that.

idk i just keep thinking of a world where the gods showed up and rained destruction on the colonizers trying to enforce their religion and thus the monotheistic religion never becoming as dominant and "default" as it is now. what do you think that world would be like?

My wife told me I couldn't post the massive rant regarding syncretism, faith, and historical accuracy I went on in response to this for my own sanity and mental health

I DO appreciate what you’re (I think) trying to say, and very much parts could be interesting to explore. I just have studied and obsessed over this period too often :/

[sugar-grigri]

Pochita, if you can read, why don't you speak ?

Wouldn't it be humane to protect humanity and demonic to protect the underworld? And what if... it was actually the other way around.

The interweaving of questions and answers is exactly what this chapter does.

While Yoru sordidly states that children are nothing more than the property of their parents, the one who can't speak, instead of devouring a human as he did with all those demons, decides to go to the blood drive.

Pochita understood what the sign meant. He knows how to talk. But he'd rather hold up that sign and roar than make any demands.

Worse still, he does not decide to give any orders.

It's not words that symbolise order, it's that raised index finger that already in Roman times expressed command.

In the United States, arms are a constitutional right (as recently reiterated by the Supreme Court, which does not admit of any restrictions), a fundamental freedom but also a means of preserving one's freedom, allowing organised militias to fight and protect the State.

You can see how it's all a construction, the weapons are a technological creation, the State is an administrative and political creation.

And that's where things get interesting. First of all, this chapter is highly symbolic and has a very strong political message (oh my god, political interpretation in a manga, impossible..........)

Yoru has sliced off the index fingers of those who support the right to bear arms in the United States. Or campaign for that freedom. But what Yoru is doing. In fact, it's taking it away from them. How can I shoot without this index finger? You can't do it.

It's by taking weapons away from men that they actually regain their freedom.

But it goes even further than that. Why does Yoru sacrifice these fingers? Because it reinforces the fear of weapons. Let's say I point a gun at you (sorry). You'd be less scared if you were as armed as I am. Especially when you're trained, know how to defend yourself and aren't afraid to shoot.

Yoru makes those who thought they were invincible with weapons vulnerable. She strengthens the Gun Devil's power. She contracts with them through her sacrificed child.

Weapons,

freedom,

deprivation of childhood,

of loved ones,

obsession with a mentor,

To think that a god created them.

Remind you of anyone?

Infanticide is what makes you immortal.

The sacrificed demons become weapons, lost between humanity and the demons. Not being human, nor demon, because they have no parents. Even artificial weapons like Reze and Katana display these characteristics. Isn't loneliness one of the ingredients?

Humanity sacrifices its children. As Fujimoto confirmed, they were prepared to do it for eternal youth.

And now you're going to say to me. NOOOO! Yoru too! Just as Makima wouldn't hesitate to do. The demons are also ready to do it.

Yes, because they are influenced by men.

Yoru speaks, uniting with humanity to say horrible things. Whereas Pochita doesn't speak. Worse still, he has chosen not to speak. Worst of the worst, even worse. He'd rather be a dog than a human. That's his choice.

Pochita fights for those he loves, he doesn't sacrifice them.

The demon of birth, it swallows but can spit out. Suspending existence, giving it new life, denying none of it.

Wasn't Makima devoured by Denji proof of this?

Nayuta is the symbol of this rebirth. A perpetual love that surpasses hate.

Pochita loves demons. He also loves those who mean something to him, like Denji. But he also knows that when we become too human, we can end up sacrificing ourselves out of vanity rather than love.

Pochita has sacrificed himself for love, without expecting anything in return as he waits permanently for Denji's dreams.

He is also Denji's lock, preventing him from fully adapting to men.

That's why killing Black CSM was Denji's wish come true. Because Pochita is preventing Denji from becoming normal.

Because he wants to protect him from humanity. Pochita has never been for humanity.

He is simply the guardian of the underworld, all those demons whose existence he guards, a supreme mother. Humanity must endure in order to continue to be afraid. But if humanity is prepared to overcome the ultimate fear of losing its child, then fear is scorned.

So Pochita tried to wipe out the weapons' existence, to devour them. But they still existed. Why? Because they are already the result of infanticide.

being devoured by the demon of birth, mother of the underworld, actually reinforces their existence.

Being devoured by their mother is the reason for their nature.

Whereas weapons are beings born because their mother has killed them.

Denji is the result of the death of the Supreme Mother.

It's not a weapon.

He's a wall.

Hero of the underworld.

A hero of the underworld who has been fighting from the start for the victory of love, sacrificing himself for those he loves and not sacrificing them. So he asks for blood.

And I'm sorry. If weapons really are born like that, they have to look human, and I think this is the last possessed human.

Someone's been ringing the doorbell.....for 100 chapters… it's time to answer it, isn't it?

[heauxvibez]

Dipsea

warning: smut (18+)

The cool, freshly laundered sheets clung to your skin as you slipped into bed after a much-needed, steamy shower. The day's stress seemed to evaporate with the rising steam, but now it was truly time to unwind and let go of all the tension that had built up over a long, demanding day. You reached for your earphones, knowing that the only thing more rewarding than this moment of solitude would be indulging in some erotic audio. Like a private hotline tailored just for you, it allowed you to surrender to the sultry, seductive voices of your favorite narrators. They whispered pure, unfiltered filth into your ears, drawing you deeper into a world of pleasure without the need for any awkward human interaction—just you, the intimate soundscape, and the fantasies unfolding in your mind.

Your panties were already pooled around your ankles, your right hand delicately nestled between your thighs, teasing and circling your sensitive pearl as you prepared yourself for an evening of pure release. In your left hand, your phone displayed the app you had come to depend on for these moments. With each swipe, the screen revealed a lineup of male voice actors, their deep tones and sultry narrations making your toes curl. Some of the voices even belonged to celebrities, their allure amplified by the forbidden thrill of hearing them narrate explicit fantasies.

One in particular, Sarunas from Insecure, had become a favorite—his smooth, husky voice bringing his character, Malcolm, the app's most beloved character to life. His words were like honey, you lost count of how many times his verbal seduction had left you trembling with need. His low, rumbling tones reached directly into your mind, conjuring vivid images of the scenarios he described. It felt as though he was speaking just to you, his tongue effortlessly fucking your ear with each erotic monologue, leaving you and countless other fans in a state of delicious delirium.

"Oh my God..." you whispered, halting your endless scrolling as something new caught your eye. The app had just unveiled a new character, and you couldn't believe what you were seeing. This was going to be the app's biggest money grab yet, and you knew it.

Introducing Joe, voiced by Roman Reigns.

"No the FUCK they didn’t..." you gasped, your jaw practically hitting the floor. Was this a dream come true? The mere idea of having Roman Reigns' voice—deep, commanding, and intoxicating—whispering in your ear was almost too much to comprehend. He wasn’t your man, but in this moment, with your AirPods snug in your ears, it was close enough to feel real.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you clicked on the tab, and a thrill ran through you as you were taken to a selection of audio stories. There were ten in total, but only one was unlocked—the rest dangled out of reach, locked behind a paywall. The silhouette of Joe’s character dominated the top of the page, a shadowy figure that perfectly outlined the familiar, muscular physique you admired. His broad shoulders, sculpted arms, and chiseled abs were rendered in perfect detail, making your mouth water.

You were tempted, so tempted to splurge and unlock the rest, but you needed to be smart. What if the voice you imagined didn’t live up to the fantasy? The economy was too tight for reckless spending, even for someone like Joe. You needed to know if he could deliver—if his voice would be as commanding and seductive as you hoped. After all, you wouldn’t buy a car without a test drive first, right? Right. You’d sample the free audio, and if it sent shivers down your spine, you’d gladly pay for the rest. But if not... well, better to be cautious than disappointed.

You clicked on the only unlocked audio titled "Watch Part 1 " and quickly scanned the description.

What happens when Joe doesn't want to touch, but simply wants to watch. Click here to find out...

Your heart raced as you took a deep breath, anxiety curled in your belly. With excitement and curiosity, you pressed the small play button, and the screen transformed into a familiar sound display, reminiscent of Spotify or Apple Music. In the center was a cartooned image of Joe, his piercing eyes and chiseled features staring back at you, commanding your attention. Below, the familiar controls—rewind, skip, play, and fast forward—were neatly lined up, ready for you to take control, though you had a feeling Joe would be the one in control tonight.

As the audio began, the first sound that filled your ears was the gentle rustling of sheets, intimate and close, as if he was right there with you. The realism sent a shiver down your spine, making it easy to imagine those same sheets you were currently nestled in being part of the scene. Your eyes fluttered shut, the world around you fading as you became fully immersed in the experience. The gentle movements of your fingers on your clit stilled as you surrendered to the moment, deciding that tonight, you would let Joe guide you. His voice began to weave its magic, and you knew you were in for a night of pure pleasure, letting him tell you exactly what to do.

He took a deep breath through his nose, the sound so close and intimate that you instinctively mirrored the action, inhaling deeply yourself. The connection was immediate, and before you could process it, his voice smooth as silk—filled your ears, weaving its spell around you, nearly hypnotizing you in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

"Mmm, glad you could make it. How was your day baby? Exhausting and stressful? Well, I'm here to relieve all that stress for you tonight. Lay back, relax, and allow me to talk you through it."

"Keep those legs open, baby... yeah, just like that. Daddy's going to sit right across from the bed and watch you make yourself cum."

His words were a dark temptation, drawing you deeper into his world. The sheer power in his voice was pulling you under.

"No. I don’t want to touch, I just want to watch."

"I wanna watch you slide those fingers up and down that sweet slit of yours, the same way my tongue does when it slowly glides up and down that clit, chasing after every drop of nectar that might escape and fall onto the sheets,"

"I can almost taste you on my tongue right now, just thinking about it. I could take a sip of you, but I won’t. I'm just here to watch."

Slowly, you slid your finger down as he described, but his voice quickly stopped you in your tracks.

"Not yet, baby. Daddy will tell you when... I promise we'll get there. But first, let me get comfortable."

The sounds of his feet shuffling against the wooden floor reached your ears. You could hear the subtle shift of his clothing as he moved, the soft rustle of fabric making the scene all the more vivid in your mind. The leather of the chair squeaked slightly as he settled in, the noise unmistakable. You could easily imagine him leaning back, relaxed yet in control, one arm draped over the armrest while his right hand lazily stroked through his beard. You were certain of it—he was playing with his beard, the subtle rasp of his fingers combing through the coarse hairs confirming your suspicion. The imagery, paired with his voice, was almost too much to bear.

"I'm drinking every inch of you in right now, that soft melanin skin and the curves of your body are being softly traced by my eyes. Yeah. you are one hell of a sight to see."

"Slip your palms over your breasts, feel those nipples get hard over your fingertips. Yeah, sweetheart. Fuck, just like that. How does that feel? Just like when I caress you, huh? My calloused hands, roaming over those sensitive buds of yours. Remember when I made you cum just from sucking on them? When I had your hands pinned above your head, listening to you whimper, whine and beg me to stop while I sucked and slurped on them? Mmm, I always enjoy how weak you can get for me."

He moaned softly into your ears as you obediently followed his instructions. For a fleeting moment, you considered reaching for your phone to pause the audio, to gather your scattered thoughts and remind yourself that this was just a recording. But the question lingered in your mind—who was this man talking to? How had this app managed to not only secure such an iconic voice but also craft such a sensual, sex-filled script that he delivered with such raw, intimate power?

It was as if he had been in your bedroom for years, learning every secret, every desire, and now he was laying them bare with every word. The way he spoke made it impossible to believe this was just a performance. He was so convincing, so achingly real, that for a moment, you almost believed this was a private call—a direct line from him to you. The fantasy he spun was so vivid, so personal, that it fed into your most delusional thoughts. The line between fantasy and reality blurred, and you found yourself willingly surrendering to the illusion, allowing yourself to believe that he was speaking to you and only you as if he knew exactly what you needed to hear.

"Now trail your hands real slowly from your breast down your belly slowly and draw light circles with your fingers. The same way I do when I want to watch you suffer. There you go baby girl. I know, I know. It's driving you insane to tease yourself so slowly. But I promise, listening to me..you'll cum harder than you ever have,"

"Now go ahead and play with that pussy for me, but take your time. I don't want our fun to end so soon."

Just as you were about to dive deeper into the fantasy, the sound abruptly paused, pulling you out of the seductive trance you had been sinking into. Your eyes snapped open and you quickly turned your head to the side, your gaze darting toward your phone, where the screen glowed faintly in the dim light. A small notification had popped up, breaking the seamless flow of the experience. The sight of it snapped you back to reality,

End of Watch Part 1

Would you like to subscribe to our app to listen to "Watch Part 2"?

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

Lolololol sorry ya'll, I like to be a tease too! If ya'll like the little audiobook oneshot idea, the next one I can make longer :) Bye!

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @sortudademais @empressdede @alichesmi

@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @wrestlingprincess80 @headoftheetable

@trashbin-nie @tshepisho @saintmagx

[harrysfolklore]

idk if you’re still taking requests but you should do actress!yn who’s been a long time fan of harry since 1d and a fellow solo harrie and they’re the stars of this movie (maybe a romcom 🤔) and then y/n is so nervous around harry and he teases her?? then they realize they have so much in common and it’s just fluff everywhere 🥲

this is honestly one of my favorite blurbs i’ve ever done and i hope you love it as much as i do! enjoy and thank youuu for the request

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

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yourinstagram The Bear has been out for a week and you can watch it on Hulu if you haven’t already ok we love u and goodbye!!

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TWITTER

//

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yourinstagram SEASON FINALE OF THE BEAR AIRS TODAY 🥲 thank you for all the love u all have my heart

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harryupdates Harry and YN out in London today !

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ynfan3 the pipeline from being a one direction fan to hanging out with (maybe dating??) harry i’m so here for it

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theharrytea guysss deuxmoi posted this !! i think it might be about harry omg. thoughts ?

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harryfan1 OOOOHHH

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harryfan4 omg makes sense i hope it’s true we need ROMCOMRRY

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yourinstagram scripts coming in and i’m like:

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TWITTER

TEXT BETWEEN HARRY AND YN

//

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yourinstagram first day of filming check !! hiyaaaa costar ⭐️ @harrystyles

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harrystyles Which Brings Me to You. Coming Soon.

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harryupdates Harry and YN on set of Which Brings Me to You!

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harryfan3 FAVES

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yourinstagram today is the day !!! world premiere of which brings me to you 🥲🥲 love u all thanks for the support

picture by the costar, awkward pose by meeee

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harrystyles Which Brings Me to You World Premiere. October, 2023.

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INTERVIEWS

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yourinstagram press day ! be ready because tons of content from me and @harrystyles annoying you about our movie is coming sooooooon 🥰

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harrystyles We took a Lie Detector Test. The results were pretty interesting. You can watching it in Vanity Fair’s Youtube channel now.

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FANS VIA TWITTER

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yourinstagram in words of taylor swift: you’re my lover

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[bvidzsoo]

I'll go animal to keep you next to me

⭔ Stalker!Wooyoung ⭔ 

∞ Author: bvidzsoo

∞ Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x female reader

∞ Warning: stalking, mentions of murder and kidnaping ∞ Word count: 4.9k ∞ Genre: non-idol!au, mafia!au, stalker!au, university!au, strangers to enemies!au ∞ Rating: nc-17 ∞ Summary: Not having enough money to pay your monthly rent and also your college bills, you start working at a nice coffee shop. One day, a mysterious man with a little girl in his arms comes inside and orders an Iced Americano. Why is that after that day you find white roses in front of your front door each day? Who is giving them to you? And what does this mystery person want from you?

∞ A/N: Hii, lovelies! Last update for the week as I'm going on a mini-trip tomorrow ^^ Wooyoung's part looked a lot different in my mind initially, but the drabble turned out like this, I hope it's good! I might just turn my initial idea into a oneshot or smth lol. Most probably Hongjoong's part will be next when I sit down to continue this mini-series, so keep an eye out for that. I'm not starting a taglist for this one, sorry<3 (you'll have to lurk around) Feedback is much appreciated and I hope you enjoy!

⭔  Listen to this before or while reading! ^^

∥ Hongjoong ∥ Seonghwa ∥  Yunho ∥ Yeosang ∥ San ∥ Mingi ∥ Wooyoung ∥ Jongho ∥ 

            How we perceive others is a peculiar and particular thing. How others perceive us is another thing we do not have power over. Sometimes, people can tell when somebody isn’t a good person, and sometimes, somebody manages to hide their dark side so well you wouldn’t even know until their mask slips and their true nature starts showing through the cracks. A good-hearted person will always try to see the good in everyone, in everything around them despite their friends' warnings about said somebody. A kind person will try and ignore all the red flags they seem to be getting from said somebody in favor of writing it off as paranoia. Because a handsome man with a sharp jawline and a Roman nose, high-pitched laughter that sounds like a witch's laughter, and is good with children cannot be a crazed man, right? He cannot hide his ugly nature underneath this perfect mask that seldom cracks, seldom.

I had met him in a coffee shop while I was on my shift, desperate for this part-time job to keep the bills paid as my parents paid for my university. It was a fair arrangement, I had been on board with the idea, but after they had to lay me down at my previous well-paying job, I was rather desperate and accepted almost any job to be able to pay this month’s rent. The coffee shop was in a relatively safe part of the city and was usually frequented by college students, so I had never truly felt unsafe. The bus station was right in front of it, so I didn’t even have to walk through dodgy alleyways to get home, or anything. Yet, somehow, when a man who looked like he was sculpted by a Greek God walked inside the coffee shop, my heart dropped and my arms got covered in goosebumps. It wasn’t even from his unnatural beauty; it was due to this very quiet voice in the back of my mind warning me that he was dangerous. But that voice must’ve been wrong because there was no way in hell a little girl would be clinging to his side and calling him uncle if that were the case. So, against my better judgment, I had ignored the warning voice, and instead, smiled widely as they arrived at the counter, our coffee shop’s welcoming speech rolling off my tongue like second nature.

Despite silencing the already quiet voice, I couldn’t shut down my body’s natural reactions to the man and I found myself having to force the smile to stay on my face, averting my eyes onto the young girl to try and remain genuine.

“I’d like an Iced Americano, Y/N.” Hearing him say my name made me blanch for a second, eyebrows furrowing as I wondered from where he had known my name until I remembered my nametag.

“Will that be all, sir?” I had asked with a polite smile as the little girl whined and pointed at the chocolate chip cookies we had in the fridge and the man, who looked barely a few years older than me, hummed and looked at me with his sharp eyes. They softened whenever he looked at the little girl and then grew harsh anytime he looked at me. His gaze was calculating and scrutinizing almost, full of wonder for a second before he was smiling dashingly, taking me off guard. I had seen many handsome men in my life before, but there was something almost ethereal to him. His dark hair fell around his face in untended curls making it look natural yet attractive. Something about his eyes made his gaze look almost lazy yet filled with sharpness, the mole right underneath his eye giving his already unusual face a charming glow.

“Two chocolate chip cookies, Y/N.” And there he was, saying my name again with a certain edge to it, and I gulped as I nervously typed in the rest of his order, telling him the total after I checked whether he needed anything else. The little girl had started singing as I got to brew his Iced Americano, and I could feel the man’s watchful eyes follow my every move as he muttered something to the little girl occasionally as he took her into his arms. I tried to calm my nervously beating heart, not quite understanding why I was having such a visceral reaction to the man. The warning voice I managed to silence in my mind was certainly gone, yet I couldn’t find it in myself not to flinch slightly away when I handed his drink over and our fingers touched accidentally. The man’s eyebrows had raised as a dangerous smirk painted his lips as he took the red straw between his teeth, waiting for me to bag the two chocolate chip cookies. Handing them over too, the little girl took one of the bags happily and pressed a sweet kiss against the man’s cheek, making him chuckle as he threw a glance at the cute girl. But then, the other bag was placed back onto the counter and slid towards me.

“For you, pretty girl.” My heart had halted as his pressing gaze bore into mine, making my cheeks flush as I stumbled through my words to thank him for his unnecessary kindness, “My name’s Wooyoung.”

And then he was gone with the little girl, the straw of his drink still between his teeth and pretty lips as he put on his shades, tickling the little girl’s side, making her giggle as she had dirtied her mouth with the chocolate from her cookie. After that first encounter, I had forgotten about Wooyoung rather quickly, with too many worries on my shoulders and too many new faces entering the coffee shop daily, making it hard to remember just one person, but perhaps it would’ve been smarter if I had remembered him. Wooyoung. White roses started showing up in front of my flat’s door every day after that warm day at the coffee shop, and I had no idea who they were from.

            The second time, based on my recollection, when I saw Wooyoung again—not that I could be sure of it—was on a random Friday night, months after having met him at the coffee shop, in an overcrowded club as I was celebrating my friend’s birthday with a large group of friends. Most of us have met at our university courses, some of us have known each other since highschool. I was relatively new to the group but they were nice and rather protective of me, I felt safe and appreciated with them. Not being a huge fan of clubbing and the sweaty crowd, I needed a few drinks in my system to make me loosen up, so, it was no surprise that I was tipsy not long after we arrived at the place. I couldn’t pre-game with them as I was on the afternoon shift at the coffee shop and had to lock up, but due to my low alcohol tolerance, it came as no problem catching up with their intoxicated states.

The music was loud and the flashing lights blinded me every few minutes, but I was enjoying myself. Arms high up in the air and hips swaying to the beat, I was surrounded by my friends who were screaming the lyrics to the songs that were played, and I finally felt free after ages. It was refreshing, relaxing, and most of all…I finally felt stress-free. I was enjoying myself, laughing and playing around as my friends and I played random dance challenges on the dance floor, roping in a few others as well as they seemed to be amused by our shenanigans. I felt eyes on me all night, a heavy and intense gaze, but I couldn’t pinpoint just one person. Perhaps it didn’t help that my vision was hazy from all of the alcohol I had consumed, but I didn’t feel uncomfortable. We were in a club, after all, everyone was looking at everyone, surveying the crowd and the people, probably looking for someone to hook up with for the night.

When my throat had started feeling parched and my stomach a little unsure, I pulled aside one of my friends and told her I needed a drink. She was eager to accompany me to the bar and I was even more eager to down a whole bottle of water in under a few seconds. My friend chuckled and asked for another one, knowing that I would need it, and she was right, the second bottle of water was gone in no time too, but this time I did share it with her as well. I wasn’t as thirsty as seconds before. But we weren’t satiated just yet, so, my friend asked for two rounds of some sour shots that I didn’t care to memorize the name of and once we had downed them, I was positive I would be throwing up in the morning with a head-splitting headache on the horizon. But that was tomorrow me’s problem, tonight was about having fun.

Just as my friend and I had decided to head back to the dance floor, the tall bartender came over with a pink and orange-looking cocktail, motioning for me to lean closer as his voice wasn’t audible over the loud music and even louder crowd. Apparently, the drink was from someone sitting down at the bar, and the bartender had said the man wanted me to know that a pretty girl like me deserves a sweet drink. Finding no harm in that, I thanked the bartender and tried to find the man, but upon being unsuccessful, I allowed my friend to lead the way back to our friend group as we shared my drink, which was definitely too sweet. Despite being curious of who the mystery man was that bought the drink for me was, I never came across him. Feeling those piercing eyes on me continued throughout the night, but I never quite seemed to make eye contact with anyone who could’ve been the culprit. I suppose it was meant to stay as a mystery. It also didn’t help that in a confusing flash of moment when someone crashed into me from behind and I turned to look at them, I had thought it was Wooyoung, from the coffee shop. But before I could actually make out his face, he was gone.

Underneath the blinding lights, as I was guided by my intoxicated mind, sometime along the night, I had felt arms sneak around my waist and then a broad chest pressing up against my back. I didn’t find it in me to complain and shake the man off, instead, I turned in his embrace and danced the night away by his side, vision too hazy to see his face clearly. But he was tall and he had muscles that could certainly crush my skull if put in a headlock, not that I thought he was dangerous or had evil motives, it was simply an observation that entered my fuzzy mind. But despite us enjoying each other’s company and even finding common ground in surprising subjects, after the man had excused himself to the restroom, he never returned. I was confused for a while until I realized he had probably found himself another company, and I couldn’t blame him or feel bad about it. We were here to have fun and if he found someone more suitable, that was alright. It’s not like I had found my soulmate in him.

What I didn’t expect, however, was to find another white rose in front of my door two days after clubbing with an added gift box to it. It was peculiar, it made me feel uneasy, but I’ve been receiving these roses for four months now, however, the gift was unusual. I still couldn’t figure out from who the roses were from, and despite my friends advice of reporting it to the police, I kept it to myself for now. What were they going to do? Probably send me back home after they tell me they can’t do anything about it, unless I was actually harmed, or this mystery person shows their face. Another shocking development to my day was switching on the TV as I wiped my kitchen clean, gasping and feeling faint for a second as despite my hazy memories I could recognize the face of the missing person they had shown in the news. Apparently, his name was Kim Mingyu, and he had been missing for exactly two days. It’s been exactly two days since we’ve been clubbing, and suddenly, I wasn’t so sure he didn’t return to me because he found somebody else to mingle with. As I went to phone my friend in a confused and worried frenzy, I realized the consistent eyes I had felt on me at the club had disappeared just as Mingyu had gone to the restroom.

I was scared to open the gift box, and when I did, my eyes widened and I panicked, scared to even touch the necklace that was so obviously Kim Mingyu’s. A letter with few words on it had been slipped inside it, underneath the necklace, and it read, ‘Pretty thing he was, unfortunate that he had to go so early on’. Instead of phoning my friend, I phoned the police.

            A month had passed and Kim Mingyu was nowhere to be found. I hadn’t known him for long, but it pained me that police could find no leads on him. I was ruled out as a suspect after I called and informed them of the box put in front of my door and they came to speak to me. The investigation was still ongoing, and I was asked to be very cautious as apparently whoever hurt him was the one probably sending me the roses. Rightfully so, I have grown paranoid and scared for my safety, often times I would only leave my apartment if one of my friends could accompany me. I still couldn’t give up my job, so most of the time I just sucked it up and put aside my fear, knowing that I was the safest I could be at the coffee shop with all the cameras in and outside, as well, watching and surveying everything. The roses never stopped showing up, and if at first I found them beautiful and kept them, now they lay in a pile in the trashcan, thrown out every day before I left for my classes. The grounds of the university were safe too. The only time I actually felt scared for my safety was when the crowd wasn’t big, or when I heard footsteps outside my flat. It could’ve only been my neighbors, but I still couldn’t know for sure.

Tonight, however, I finally gave in to my friends' naggings and went out to a barbeque with them. They were worried about me and I could understand them. They rarely saw me now, unless they would come over for the night or walk with me to my destinations. It was hard, I was trying to return to normal and ignore this weird paranoid feeling that I was constantly being watched, even inside my apartment. My gut had twisted before I left my flat, the quiet voice in the back of my mind warning me to stay out of my flat tonight, to just sleep over at my friend’s house, but I couldn’t do that. Her boyfriend was coming over and I didn’t want to be a burden. I already felt bad for always needing someone to be by my side, I didn’t want to inconvenience her even more. I was a big girl and I could take care of myself, it was just that stupid voice trying to scare me and nothing else. I was safe, besides, if whoever was sending me roses hadn’t approached me after five months of possible stalking, then I was alright, they certainly wouldn’t approach me now.

It was past eleven in the evening when I finally made my way home, belly full and tummy hurting from continuous laughter, body and mind at ease from having been with my friends who knew how to up-lift my spirits. I felt fine, serene even, and perhaps the fact that there wasn’t a rose in front of my door today only added onto feeling less worry. Perhaps this somebody had gotten bored of me, finally realized there was nothing special about me, or even fun. I unlocked my door and walked inside my small hallway, dropping my bag onto the floor as I stepped out of my shoes and wore my slippers, hanging my coat onto the hanger. I grabbed a hair tie from the small bowl on the shelf and tied my hair in a low bun, excited to shower and change into my pajamas and perhaps read a bit before going to bed. I had the morning shift tomorrow and I didn’t want to go to bed too late tonight. But as I started shuffling towards my bathroom, I froze in my steps as I realized there was light humming coming from the kitchen and the aroma of multiple foods combined in the air.

My muscles grew tense as I felt around my jeans for my phone, feeling dread when I realized I had left it in my bag, which was on the floor in the small hallway. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I started tiptoeing back to the hallway, but jumped and almost screamed when a body in the darkness rounded the corner, leaning against the wall. The person was now blocking my way towards the hallway and I gulped as my heart started racing, eyes narrowing as I tried to see through the darkness and recognize the person. Perhaps it was one of my friends’, it must be them. I has to be them.

“You’re home later than I expected.” I shuddered as I exhaled, the voice unfamiliar as my heart now beat even faster. So it wasn’t any of my friends. This wasn’t good.

“I—I was out with my—friends.” My voice sounded unsure, and I tried not to tremble too much as the person hummed nodding. I still couldn’t see their face; the blinds were drawn in the living room and I realized it wasn’t me who left them like that.

“You threw my roses away.” The voice sounded disappointed, accusing. I gulped, feeling a chill run down my spine as I eyed the exit. I needed to do something, I couldn’t just stand here and wait for something horrible to happen to me.

“There, uh, there were too many of them.” I whispered, fumbling with my hands as the person just hummed again then sighed loudly.

“Did you have fun at the barbeque, pretty girl?” I gasped quietly as he asked that question, making me shake as I realized he hadn’t only been sending me flowers, he was probably watching my every step. Had this person been inside my flat before? Were there cameras inside? I felt like crying, but I quickly swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to keep my composure.

“It was alright.”

“I cooked us dinner.” I bit my lower lip and flinched as the man pushed off the wall, approaching me very slowly as if he waiting to see if I would run away or not. I did think of running away, but I had no idea whether he was armed or not, whether he’d try to kill me or not if I flee. Not that I was safer staying put, my last dying hope was in talking my way out of this.

“I’m starving.” I lied through my teeth as the man chuckled, a low rumble, and then finally stopped just a few steps in front of me. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked up in his eyes, searching his face to familiarize myself with his features in case I do make it to the police to report him, but I was taken aback when I realized he seemed somewhat familiar. A sharp jawline and a Roman nose, asymmetrical eyes and a sharp gaze, I had seen him before. Months ago, perhaps at the coffee shop. Perhaps he was the man with the little girl. I needed a second to remember his name as my eyes stopped on the mole underneath his eye.

“Wooyoung?” I whispered uncertainly, flinching away when he reached a hand out towards.

“I knew you’d remember me, pretty girl.” He whispered smirking, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he touched my hair despite me trying to cower away, “Look at you, you’re prettier than I remembered you were.”

I gulped and tried to take a deep breath as Wooyoung stepped closer, making me back away, but then he was gripping my arm painfully and I froze, heart beating out of my chest in fright.

“Don’t lie to me.” Suddenly his voice dropped octaves and I shuddered as his grip tightened, making me wince, “How can you be hungry when you’ve been to a barbeque?”

“I didn’t eat much; I didn’t have an appetite.” I was quick with my lie as I tried to smile at him, arms covered in goosebumps as he traced his fingers down my skin, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. The quiet voice in my mind was loud now and my gut was twisting painfully, making me wish I had listened to the warnings before it was too late. Could I escape this man? What should I do now?

“Is that so?” Wooyoung hummed, grabbing my hand in his as I nodded wordlessly, my body refusing to move when he pulled me after himself. His hand was cold, his fingers decorated by chunky rings, “Won’t you have dinner with me?”

“Ye-yes.” I stuttered and forced my legs to move after him, to follow him towards the kitchen just around the corner as I desperately glanced towards my small hallway, wishing that I had some telekinesis powers to make my phone come to me.

“And how was your day, pretty girl?” Wooyoung’s voice was warm and pleasant as he led me inside the kitchen, making my mouth fall open in shock at the sight. The table was set beautifully with candles in the middle and a huge bouquet of white roses in a vase that wasn’t mine. Wooyoung walked me to the chair that was furthest from the door and pulled it out for me, smiling cheekily as I gulped and remained standing. He said nothing as our eyes met again under the candlelight and I was losing the battle of trying to stay calm as my muscles started contracting, my heart beating too fast. I felt trapped in my own flat, threatened and unsafe with a man that broke in and had been stalking me for almost half a year now.

“It was—what do you want?!” I snapped, finally losing my cool as Wooyoung just chuckled, leaning his hip against the chair as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“You don’t have to be scared of me, if I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done so a long time ago, pretty girl—”

“Stop calling me pretty girl!” My voice was shaky as I snapped, eyeing the table as I lunched for a knife before he could stop me. I held it in front of myself as I felt panic finally overtake my body and mind, making my hands shake uncontrollably and chest rise and fall rapidly.

“But you are a very pretty girl, Y/N.” Wooyoung pouted, looking down at the butter knife in my hand with an amused expression, “Since you seem scared, I’ll be honest with you. I want…you.”

I gulped as my eyebrows furrowed, growing more confused and scared by the minute. Wooyoung didn’t say anything else just stood up straight and stalked towards me with a confident stride, lips pulling into a menacing smirk again. I raised the knife as my hand shook, and lurched forward with zero intent of actually stabbing him, perhaps I hoped it would intimidate him. But before I could blink, he gripped my wrist harshly and twisted it until I dropped the knife with a pained cry, face scrunching up in pain as I was whirled around and immobilized by Wooyoung’s arms as he pulled me against his body, his warm lips pressing against my ear as his hot puffs of breath made me shiver. I was breathing loudly as Wooyoung hummed quietly, the hand that was still holding my wrist loosened slightly as his fingers started caressing my skin. It made my stomach churn as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it wasn’t working too well.

“Let go of me.” I tried to demand, but it came out as a helpless whisper and I felt Wooyoung’s lips press against my temple, making me flinch as I tried to trash around, but despite his lanky form he was strong. Way too strong, and I realized I had no chance of escaping unless he allowed me to.

“But if I let go of you, you will run, Y/N, and I can’t have that happening.” Wooyoung muttered and then sighed as if this was inconvenient to him, “I don’t want to watch you from the shadows anymore, I’ve done that enough. It’s time we get to know each other like normal people—”

“There’s nothing normal about this situation right now, Wooyoung.” I cut him off with a snare, trying to yank myself free again, “You’ve been stalking me for months.”

“Indeed,” Wooyoung confirmed and I felt like throwing up, “but that was because I had some pretty bad business to take care of first. If people would’ve seen us together they would have targeted you, and I can’t have that happening.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked in a whisper and stumbled forward as Wooyoung suddenly released me as I tugged against his arms again. I ran into a chair and caught myself just seconds before falling over. I eyed the exit as Wooyoung cleared his throat behind me.

“I have many enemies, Y/N.” Wooyoung spoke up with a casualty to his voice, and I glanced back and watched as he popped a grape in his mouth, giving me a questioning look, “Can’t have you kidnapped and tortured.”

That was all I needed to hear as I bolted towards the front door and tried to grab my bag too in the process, but realized I didn’t have time if I wanted to free myself. But as I threw the door open, I was met with two huge men blocking the doorway. They were dressed in black suits and had sunglasses on despite being inside. I gasped as they didn’t even look at me and whirled around as Wooyoung came walking to the hallway with a tsk rolling off his tongue.

“You’re making this more dramatic than it’s supposed to be, pretty girl.” I tried to scurry away from him but he marched up in my face in no time and grabbed the back of my head as I tried to fight him off, but as his eyes hardened, I knew it would be best to just obey him and stop fighting, “I like you and if you don’t stop trying to run away I will take you away with me by force, Y/N. I’m giving you two choices. One, you shut up about this and don’t go to the police, you let me take you out and we’ll see how our relationship develops from there on. Two, I knock you out right now and take you back to my highly guarded and isolated mansion and you’ll never see your loved ones or anyone you knew before. Which one will you choose?”

I was shaking as I tried to gulp, but my throat was dry and my eyes shook as they filled with tears as I clawed at his arm holding my head, “First option, I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“Good girl.” Wooyoung grinned as he bit his lower lip, eyes taking in my face as he leaned close until our foreheads pressed together, “I’ve been waiting for this since the moment I saw you cross the road and walk up to the coffee shop, ready to start your shift, Y/N.”

My heart stopped as a tear rolled down my cheek, “You’re insane.”

“I’m just a man bewitched by you.” Wooyoung retorted with a cackle and I yanked myself away as he released me and gave me a scrutinizing stare, “You don’t have to eat dinner, I know you’re full, but I’ll be back in the morning to take you out for breakfast. Now get some rest.”

I scowled when his lips touched my cheek and Wooyoung just chuckled and walked around me towards the bodyguards who stepped aside and made way for their boss. I turned to watch him with a frown, mind torn between what I should do next. But the wink he sent me before he closed the door and I heard his footsteps fade into the background, I knew Wooyoung wasn’t to be messed with. He really would kidnap me if I didn’t do as he wished. Just who is he and will I ever get away from him? What had I done to earn his attention? I fell to the ground as the tears finally fell free, wrecking my body painfully as I sobbed.

If I ran away, would he find me?

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[wolfy1298]

Don’t you ever wonder what kind of secrets and plot points Venti keeps hidden? He claims to be the weakest amongst the Seven-and that could be true given his whole 500 year slumber and poison and all- but he’s still a god. AND one of the original Seven. You gotta be good at SOMETHING to survive for this long…

He’s also the only archon so far that doesn’t have a second story quest so what is he hiding?! We have accounts of him literally shaping the land with ease from both the Golden Apple Archipelago events and his character stories. We know that he has close relationships with the Hexenzirkel and somehow managed to avoid conflict with them??? And there’s also the fact from the skyward sword series that he was originally a catalyst user before picking up the bow in honor of Amos. He’s pulling a Childe when it comes to weapons he currently uses and the ones he’s proficient in.

And don’t even get me started on his connection with Istharoth and Celestia! Mondstadt already has the Thousands Winds Temple AND the nameless island where both Venti and Istharoth were once worshipped. And from Before Sun and Moon, we know that the Thousand Winds (which Venti IS A PART OF) were once called the Thousand Winds of TIME, all of whom were created and controlled by Istharoth. AND THEN you have Venti suspiciously appearing in the right place at the right time again and again and again. He even self proclaimed knowing every song: past, present, and future. Hell he’s probably one of the only few beings in Teyvat who can naturally bypass Irminsul because of his songs: Nahida already shown it’s possible to save deleted info if rearranged into fiction so the same should work for songs and poetry. And there’s also what the hydro fungus in Nahida’s second story quest said about changing forms. That you need time for growth to occur. And Nahida - an ARCHON- had trouble maintaining her fungus form for even the short period of time. She was even told that to do so for longer, one would need to bypass time itself which is near impossible. AND YET VENTI CHANGED INTO THE FORM OF HIS FRIEND IMMEDIATELY AFTER RECEIVING HIS GNOSIS AND HAS YET TO CHANGE BACK OR TIRE FROM FATIGUE (as we know it). HOW STRONG IS HE. Sure, the yokai in Inazuma and Adepti in Liyue can all change into a human form, but we know in game that it takes a long time and steady energy to take on a human shape, and the Adepti all seem to have that ability naturally: there’s no bending the laws of nature if it’s already natural to them. So what’s Venti’s excuse?!

As for Celestia: there’s already written in the statue of Barbatos “the gateway to Celestia” and what not. And Khanreia! In the chasm AND in the Caribert quest, Barbatos and Mondstadt keep getting named dropped. According to Dainself, the city in the chasm is supposedly OLDER than Khanreia and possibly the Seven, yet BARBATOS of all beings is mentioned in the records you find??? And in Caribert, it’s a Mondstadtian woman who that one bloke had a child with. Never mind that Mondstadt is where Kaeya and Albedo - the two characters with confirmed Khanreian origins- end up! There’s also the fact that Khanreia seems to base its gods and names and whatever around Norse mythology….which has strong ties to GERMANIC HISTORY. WHICH MONDSTADT IS BASED OFF OF. And Enkanomiya, which was once ruled by Istaroth, is Greek origin. Suspicious considering all the connections to HERMES Venti keeps portraying. (And then there’s also a connection to all three places with the hexenzerkel with their Chinese names? Like I think I read somewhere that Alice is Aries(?)/Eris(?) and Nicole is actually Nike in the Chinese version? Which are very much based in Roman/Greek origins)

Oh and something I forgot to mention earlier with the whole Istharoth connection. Mondstadt’s saying “seeds of stories, brought by the wind, and cultivated through time”. SUSPICIOUS

Anyways, this has been my nonsensical Venti theory rant

And you’re stuck with me @worldsokayestmagicalgirl

[anyarose011]

You're a Mean One, Miss Hunham {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: Four days into being stuck in an all boy's school for Christmas break, and you're on the brink of insanity. If it's not because of Angus Tully still trying to one up you in history lessons, then it's Teddy Kountze getting a hand on something personal of yours (prick).

Part 2 of ?? (Masterlist)

Warnings: Swearing, period typical sexism, mentions of pornography, blackmail, minor physical assault, and as always, Teddy Kountze.

You guys don't get to escape being an awkward af teenager just because it's fanfiction, so enjoy! Also, thank you all so much for the love already shown just from the first part alone!

Word Count: 5.0k

You always knew to put a pillow over your head when you heard your father get up from his bed.

“All right you fetid layabouts, it’s daylight in the swamp!” He smacked two metal basins against each other, waking the boys up if they weren’t already, groaning. “Arise!”

It was funny the first day, but by the fourth, it was unbearable. Still, a part of you was grateful for your father; you never had to get up early and run with the boys in the cold, Massachusetts air. Call it nepotism, call it sexism, you were just glad he didn’t want you to interact with them (physically, that is).

The second day you were there, he called you in during afternoon study hall (leaving you on a minor cliff hanger in Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre; forget that it was your third time reading it, it pissed you off). Just like he had done months ago, Paul Hunham hosted a trivia game (whether that was to show you off, or get them to study, you had no idea).

What idea you did have, was beating every single one of them.

For Alex and Ye-Joon, they were babies in your eyes, so you would give them more time to think on their answers whenever they were up. Alex got close on one, but overall, they didn’t do so well.

Oh, the boys your age? Yeah, you didn’t show mercy, even towards Jason.

“When was the last king overthrown?” Your father questioned.

You smacked the desk before Jason could even process the question. “509 B.C.”

“What planets are named after Roman gods?”

“Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn.” You recited it perfectly.

Teddy scrunched his eyes. “Jesus Christ.”

Your father pursed his lips. “That was the easiest one I have, Mr. Kountze.”

Angus Tully…Angus. Fucking. Tully.

“What emperor temporarily restored peace to Rome and the cost of-?”

Angus hit the desk before your father could finish the question. “-Diocletian.”

“At its peak,” your father eyed you. “how large was the Roman Empi-?”

“2.3 million square miles.” You answered, keeping your eyes trained on Tully.

“Nero had five spouses in total, what was the name of the slave boy he-?”

“-Castrated and married,” you finished for him. “Sporus.”

Back and forth you both went like that, rapid fire at first, and your own levels of exhaustion were catching up to you. After perhaps five minutes of this (maybe ten, twenty, who gives a shit, you were tired), it was one damning question that would haunt you.

“True or false, the Pantheon was built before the Coliseum.”

“True.” You said, slapping the desk with the confidence of a mediocre man.

There was silence in the room, and your father sighed. “False.”

It wasn’t a big deal, it shouldn’t have been a big deal; to literally everyone else but you, it wouldn’t be a big deal.

But it was.

Oh, it was.

It was the second time you lost to Angus Tully overall, the first time from an easy question. Still, while Kountze’s grin made you want to rip out his teeth, it was Tully’s outstretched hand that caused you to snap out of it.

“Good job.”

Two of the most hurtful words in academia, whether it meant for it to be or not. Still, swallowing your pride, you shook his hand, and left the room gracefully.

Then started crying as you walked down the darkened hallway.

It wasn’t like you were weeping, you were just frustrated. Thankfully, by the time your friend Elise came to pick you up, you were fine and had a fun day simply walking around town with her.

You bought cigarettes and chocolate at the drug store, then spent the rest of the day at her house, laying on the floor and listening to records in her room while answering her prodding questions.

“Who’s the cutest one?”

“None, they’re men.”

“Okay,” she rolled her eyes, smiling. “I know that, but if you had to choose.”

“Like, ‘if we were the last man and woman on earth’ I had to choose?”

“Sure.”

“A very tall bridge.”

She laughed, shoving you playfully. “I’m serious!”

“So am I.”

“Really.”

Sighing heavily, you thought for a moment, before smiling. “He’s a football player.”

“What?!” She sat herself up. “You and a football player?!”

“Shut up!” You laughed with her, sitting up.

Elise shook her head. “What about the one you went head-to-head with in trivia today?”

“Ew,” was your immediate reaction. “he’s maybe your type, but not mine.”

“So, you don’t want a smart one?” She questioned. “And that’s mean of you.”

“I’m mean to everyone.” You laid back down on the floor. “And yes, of course I want someone who’s smart, but not smarter than me.”

She mirrored you, laying down and leaning her head against yours. “So, he’s out for the count?”

“One hundred percent.”

“If you say so.” Elise reached up onto her nightstand and handed you a letter. “Also, my aunt left something back at the faculty housing and said she found this in you and your dad’s mailbox.”

You looked at your name in the center of it, and then at the stamp: a toy train.

It took everything within you not to sit up in shock. All you did was smile, say thank you, and slip it into your coat pocket.

You gave Tully his chocolates and cigarettes and didn’t have a problem. It was the fourth day when your father had given them just another ounce of freedom outside of the school, allowing them to walk around the wooded area of campus. You still had your books, but you were also feeling lonesome (the only time you really interacted with any of them was during mealtimes, except for Teddy…fuck Teddy), and you had talked about almost every single thing you wanted to talk about with Mary (God bless that women for letting you read to her too).

So, on December 20th, you laced up your boots (not too tightly), pulled on your mittens, and zipped up your jacket to go on a miniature adventure with the five boys.

“I’m gonna teach you how to play football.” Jason teased you as the six of you walked two by two (you and him at the front).

Shaking your head, you smiled more so at the thought of what you’d look like than his obvious flirting (was he even flirting or just being nice? Decades pass, and you still aren’t sure). “Please no.”

“Come on, it’s easy.”

“Roman history is easy.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s not; you’re just smart.”

“It’s easy to me. Football is easy to you, see what I’m getting at?”

Jason shrugged. “Suit yourself, Teddy?”

“Say no more.” He responded, brushing past you and running up ahead as Jason threw the football to him and he caught it.

That left you by yourself for just a moment before seeing Angus walk beside you. You turned your head over your shoulder to see Ye-Joon and Alex lagging behind as they talked.

“Boys,” you called them. “try and keep up!”

They responded with a chorus of ‘Yeah’s and ‘Sorry’s.

“So what, you’re like their mother now?” The second most irritating voice belonging to a boy asked.

You looked over at Angus, hands in his pockets as he gazed down at you. “You’re not exactly the nurturing type.”

“You don’t know that.”

Humming, you stepped over a log in the middle of the path. “So, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Jason’s here because of his hair, Alex and Ye-Joon’s family are in other continents, I don’t care nor want to know about Teddy, why are you here?”

He didn’t respond right away, before then saying. “I was supposed to go to St. Kitt’s with my mom and stepfather, but then they decided to say it was their honeymoon and ditch me.”

Your gaze turned to him and saw him pick up a stick, dragging it behind him to make a line in the snow. Even just from his profile, you could see the anger withing his eyes; bubbling more violently than a volcano about to erupt.

“That’s despicable.” You stated plainly.

“That’s one way to put it.” He scoffed.

You didn’t know exactly how to follow up such a personal conversation, but you wanted to make him feel better (at this point during the break, only because it was the decent thing to do), so you just said.

“You beat me fair and square both times.”

Angus looked at you. “Did I? At your dad’s bullshit trivia?”

“You did. Well actually, it was just me versus five of you, and I do believe the more I talk to Kountze, the more braincells I lose, so-.”

“-Don’t sell yourself short.”

You gave him a quizzical look. “I know, I was just telling you why I lost to you both times.”

He shrugged. “The first time you had to go against fifteen of us.”

“I’m sorry,” you chuckled, genuinely not believing it. “are you suddenly saying that you think I’m smart?”

“I never said you weren’t.” He gave you a look.

“Last time, you looked me in the eye and said you knew more than me.”

That’s what silenced him, and when he nor you said anything after that, you simply walked ahead of him. Hell yeah, you had the last word and made him feel like an asshole (you honestly didn’t know that was possible).

The six of you all caught up with one another, and you spoke with the freshmen boys more about meaningless things (but perhaps that’s what made it so meaningful). Angus, still carrying the stick like he was a child, and it was his favorite toy, said to Jason after talking about if there was anything else to do in Barton.

“What about your car? We could take it, go somewhere, Boston maybe?”

“Nah, we’d get in so much trouble.” He shook his head, nudging you. “Little miss perfect here would snitch on us.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname. “I would not. Besides, it’d be easier to say you all kidnapped me, and everyone would believe me.”

“Face it,” Jason passed the football back to Teddy. “we’re stuck.”

 “If we just had some way to get out of here.” Angus kicked a patch of snow. “Just split.”

Jason pointed towards the quad. “Well, you could put a chopper down right in the quad.”

“A what?” Angus furrowed his brow.

“Helicopter, dumbass.” Teddy mocked. “His old man’s the CEO of Pratt and Whitney.”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, he’s go his own bird. He takes it from Stamford to the city every morning. Lands right in our back yard. Pilot’s name is Wild Bill.”

“Wild Bill?” Ye-Joon asked, amused.

“Yeah, flew to Haystack with it. Took the presents and everything. Minus me.”

“Flying with presents,” Alex spoke up. “like Santa Claus.”

That was perhaps the first time you smiled out of geniuses that day.

“Yeah. Just like Santa Claus.”

Jason whistled, and Teddy immediately dashed ahead of him and caught the ball once Jason threw it. The two drifted off playing catch, leaving you and Angus with the freshmen. Alex spoke just as whimsically as he did about Santa.

“If I was back home right now back in Provo, it would be really warm inside, and my mom would be making baked apples, and the whole house would smell like cinnamon and brown sugar.”

Ye-Joon smiled. “That sounds really nice.”

You nodded. “During finals week, I helped Mary and the other cooks bake cookies for you guys. I still think that’s one of my favorite smells of all time.”

“You helped out with that?” Angus asked.

Dropping your smile, you said. “Yeah, and if I knew which one you’d have taken I would’ve spat in it.”

Before he could even come up with a response, Teddy ran up to Alex and yanked the glove off his right hand. “Hey!”

“That’s what you get for ratting me out, you little Mormon!” He laughed before throwing it into the river.

You marched up to him immediately. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! Like, what the actual fuck?”

Teddy only stuck his tongue out like a child before running back to catch up with Jason. A part of you (somehow) foolishly believed he would’ve berated Teddy for the obviously asshole act; but he didn’t.

Rolling your eyes, you went down to the river with Alex, hopefully trying to find the glove and be able to fish it out. Though, to no avail, you couldn’t find it.

“It’s gone!” He yelled back up to Angus and Ye-Joon. “My glove’s gone!”

“Twisted fucker orphaned that glove on purpose!” Angus responded. “Left you with one so the loss would sting that much more.”

Alex looked down at his hands before tugging off the other glove and throwing it into the river as well. You glared at Teddy as he had a fun time, still laughing and throwing the ball with Jason. Sighing, you looked back down at Alex and pulled off your mittens, handing them to him.

“Here.”

He glanced up at you before staring back out at the water, rubbing his nose. “I don’t need them.”

“Your fingers are frailer than mine.” You continued even when he gave you a look. “That’s not an insult, that’s a fact. It’s alright, I have pockets.”

Alex, after a moment of debating, took them from you and slipped them on, smiling. “Thanks.”

The six of you were on your way back to school when you felt someone slip their hand into your coat pocket.

“Now what do we have here?”

You turned on your heel, seeing Teddy’s face light up as he waved the letter in his hand. Your face dropped, along with your voice.

“No!”

Immediately, you began to chase him around the small, snowy clearing as if you were a dog and he was a car.

“Theodore fucking Kountze, give that back!” You commanded.

He ripped open the envelope. “Or what, Hunham? You’re gonna tell your dad on me?”

“Just give her the letter, idiot.” Angus rolled his eyes.

Of course, Kountze ignored him, taking the letter out, and money falling from the paper. That’s when he stopped in his tracks and so did you. For the first time since…a while, you were frozen, and you had no idea why.

The rest of the boys caught up to you two, and Teddy picked up the money that fell from the letter; a twenty, a ten, and a five-dollar bill. After the initial shock wore off, he read the letter aloud to everyone.  

“‘My dearest girl, how are you? It’s been a while, and I just want to know what you’ve been up to. Merry Christmas, here’s my gift to you. From, Daniel. P.S. Please send another picture of you if you could.’”

Shame crept in like a shaking animal from the cold, and you couldn’t even look at any of them. Still, that didn’t stop Teddy from taunting you; hell, it probably spurred him on.

“The hell kind of business are you running if you got a someone paying you thirty-five bucks?” He laughed, looking back at the guys. “You think she’s in a skin mag or something?”

“Hey, man, shut up.” Jason rebuked.

“No, I’m serious. They take pictures without showing the face sometimes.” He looked at you now. “Which one is it? Penthouse? Modern Man?”

“Leave it, Kountze.” You hissed, not looking at him.

Teddy laughed. “Don’t tell me it’s Playboy; you?”

 “Are you fucking deaf?” Angus asked. “She told you to cut it out.”

“Piss off Tully, you probably saw her tits this morning in study hall.”

You whipped your head around and couldn’t control the face you made; to this day, you still have no idea if it was pure rage, a form of betrayal, or both at once. Still, you watched as how Angus avoided your gaze like he’d done something wrong; he did, but still. Teddy opened his disgusting mouth to speak again.

“Shit, if I were to line up every girl in Barton, you would’ve been the very last one I-.”

“-I’ll let you take the picture.”

All eyes were back on you, and you looked right at Teddy’s; once confident and sly, now widened with surprise. Who knew it would take just six words for him to shut up?

“What?” Was all he responded.

You swallowed thickly, clutching your hands into fists to keep yourself calm (and to not cry). “I’ll let you take the picture of me, but we have to be alone, and you need to promise me you won’t tell anyone else; especially my father.”

This was not what you had envisioned or wanted to happen on your first outing with them away from the adults in your life. You prayed to whatever god above, Christian, Roman, Greek, Buddhist, it didn’t matter, you prayed that Teddy would grow a brain and take the deal.

“Alright.” Was all he said, shrugging with an excited smile on his face that made your skin crawl.

You nodded. “I’ll take my letter and money now.”

He tilted his head, walking closer to you. “Please.”

Taking a deep breath, you said. “Please.”

Teddy’s grin only deepened, then handed you your things. “You know, Hunham, maybe you’re not a total prude after-.”

Your fist met his eye, and the both of you stumbled backwards; him clutching his face, you your hand. Needless to say, you were both cursing. Still, you managed to gather your bearings and push him over.

“Fucking bastard.” You spat before trying to make a run for it.

Teddy grabbed your left foot, causing you to fall into the snow, your teeth sinking into your lip once you hit your chin on impact of the ground. You struggled, then managed to quickly wiggle out of your boot before getting back up and running like a girl (anyone would run like a girl if they were being chased by a man like Teddy Kountze).

You honestly have no idea how he didn’t catch up to you at the time, but you were on the steps of the main building when you turned back. There they were, just five, not-so-little specks that stood out across the valley of pure white snow. It was only when you slowed down did you notice how cold your left foot was. Your sock was dripping wet from the snow, and you then pulled off your other boot, leaving it on the stairs before entering the school.

Taking a deep breath once you closed the door, you wiped your mouth; specks of blood colored your hand, but thankfully, not that much. Sighing, you walked through the halls of the school, trying to make your way back to the infirmary and hoping that your father wasn’t there.

You ran into Mary instead (a fate worse than death).

“Where are your shoes?” Was the first thing she asked once she saw you in the main hall (you got lost; hey, you’d only been there a few times in the past, don’t be too hard on yourself).

You shrugged, smiling. “We were playing a game.”

“What kind of game?”

“Hide and seek tag.” you leaned against the wall, hands in your coat pockets. “First one to get to the school wins, I hid my shoes under a bush, so they thought I was there, and I made a run for it.”

“You take a fall then? Your mouth’s bleeding.”

“You’re telling me you’ve never slipped on ice?” You managed to joke.

She arched her brow, placing her hands on her hips. “Do you know how long I’ve known you?”

It actually took you a few moments to think back on it; it felt like you’ve known her longer, but no. “Since I was nine?”

“And do you think, in the last eight years, I haven’t been able to tell if you’re a bad liar or not?”

“…Well, am I?”

“Did one of those boys put their hands on you?” She asked the question you both knew was coming. “Was it that shitass Kountze?”

Even with it being a serious question, you laughed (both from surprise and discomfort). “Well like, you should see the hands I put on him. Mary, we were just playing, it’s fine.”

The main door opened before she could say anything else, and you saw the same five boys walk in; Ye-Joon holding your boots. You smiled, approaching them as if nothing was wrong, and you took your shoes. “Thank you.”

He nodded, quickly looking away.

“You all should be ashamed of yourselves.” Mary spoke up behind you, and your heart dropped for a moment as well as all of their faces. “I get that you were playing a game, but you don’t need to be so competitive.”

They turned to one another, obviously confused about the whole thing (you were as well). Still, she continued. “Yeah, little miss Hunahm told me everything. Hide and seek, tag, I don’t care what it was, you all need to be just careful with each other. Poor girl over here took a fall, and I see you did too, mister Kountze.”

At his name, Teddy turned away. Angus spoke up. “We’ll be careful next time, miss Lamb.”

“Please, we’re on vacation; just Mary.” She looked at you. “You’re gonna help me with dinner later, right?”

“I will.”

“Good, stay out of trouble.”

“No promises.”

With that, Mary left through one of the doors leading to the teacher’s lounge. The moment she did, Teddy hissed at you.

“What the hell was that?!”

Rolling your eyes you said. “Didn’t you hear? We were playing a stupid game.”

“You mean you punched me in the face.”

“You blackmailed me into doing something I wouldn’t have wanted to do; we can keep going.”

“It’s not my fault you’re a-.”

“-A what?”

He stopped to your surprise, then changed his tone. “I just don’t think your father would be proud of the choices you’ve made.”

On one hand, damn, those words cut deep enough to almost make you bleed; but on the other hand…

“Are you gonna tell him?” You asked, trying not to sound like you gave a shit.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “I mean, unless you’re gonna say sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” You laughed. “Beating the shit out of you? You started it. Besides, who’s he going to believe?”

Silence was what you were met with. Even at the sight of his face, you only continued to grin. “Teddy, come on, you start ‘not fights’, we all know. It’s not a hard question, I thought you were smarter than this?”

He sighed. “You.”

“Exactly; you’re my bitch, Kountze.” You walked backwards, a little skip in your step. “Don’t you forget that.”

Turning away, you retreated to the infirmary, grabbing your books and escaping to the library in hopes of not having to see any of them for the rest of the day.

Men…so exhausting.

You managed to disappear into the world of The Yellow Wallpaper (not necessarily lighthearted reading, but it was still interesting) and a chapter of The Two Towers before Mary called you down to help with dinner.

After another strange but not so subtle comment from her (“You know you can be honest with me, right? I am with you.”), it was quiet between the both of you. That’s what you always loved with cooking and baking; the quietness, even if you were with one other person. You both just worked in tandem and it was almost frightening how you would both know to move out of the way of each other without saying a word.

Dinner was uneventful; somehow, your father hadn’t noticed the slight bruising on your lip, or Teddy’s eye (the color would probably start to show as days went on, but that was a future problem for you). Not one of the boys your age talked to you; even then, the freshmen kept to themselves a lot too.

So, it was quite a surprise to you, as there was “supervised leisure time” in the library, when Jason Smith sat across from you at the table.

“Hey.” He said softly.

You looked up from Jane Eyre. “Hello.”

“So…” He almost looked nervous (initially about what, you will never know). “you really gave Teddy shit today.”

Tilting your head to the side, you went. “Yeah? Well…he kind of threatened me.”

“No of course. Just…wow.” He chuckled. “You really held him off.”

Nodding, you honestly had no idea what to think. Was he complementing you? In shock? All you were doing was staying silent at this awkward exchange when he asked. “You okay?”

“Huh?”

“Just that, I can’t really read you right now. Did I say something weird?”

“No.” You shook your head, then said. “Well, yes. Sorry, I just…” You tried again. “Thank you, I think? But um…do you want me to be honest?”

“Sure.”

“I’m kind of…no, I am mad none of you stepped in. Maybe not mad but…I don’t know.”

“Well,” he began. “we told him to stop.”

“So did I, but he didn’t.” You wanted to say, but you only knew saying something true would make it worse (this is why you couldn’t be outnumbered by men; it’d make you scared). Instead, you settled on.

“I know, and thanks, but it still would’ve been nice for some help.”

He shrugged. “You seemed to have it handled.”

Six words you thought (and prayed) you’d never hear again; and he said them with a nonchalant shrug. As if, by now, he was already bored and annoyed with a conversation he had started. Perhaps you were reading too much into that last part, perhaps he didn’t mean to come off as callous; but he was still oblivious at the end of the day.

“Look,” he interrupted your overflowing mind when he saw how much it was affecting you. “if it helps, he tried to run after you when you punched him, but Tully and I held him back.”

You took a deep breath as his words sunk in. Then, you chuckled bitterly. “How nice of you to not let him beat me to a pulp.”

He shook his head. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

“Angry? Pissed off?”

“Irritational.”

Your jaw actually dropped. “What?”

He said your name, shaking his head and lowering his voice as if you both hadn’t been quiet already. “Look, Kountze is a dick, we know that. But come on, he said some horrible stuff, and you punched him. That doesn’t really add up.”

“…He threatened me.”

“You basically invited him to take a picture of you alone. I mean, yeah it was to bate him, but still.”

No further questions, you picked up your book and your jacket. Without another word and ignoring how he tried to call you back with a soft tone of voice as he said your name, you walked out of the library without another thought.

Your father asked you about it of course, but all you said was that Jason spoiled a book you were looking forward to reading. He believed you and wished you goodnight, leaving you to lie in your bed and be stuck in your thoughts until snoring reached your ears.

You waited a few more minutes before you stood up, gathering your blanket to wrap around you. As you walked down the hall, the nagging thought of ‘Do I even feel safe in there?’ invaded your mind when you only realized that you were going to be in a room with both Jason and Teddy. You were outside of the hall for longer than you would imagine, when you heard quiet voices on the other side of the wall.

“…I had an accident.”

“Yeah, you did. Shh, stop crying. If they hear you, they’ll crucify you. Which would be ironic, since you’re Buddhist.”

You had to cover your mouth from the unexpected line. How…strange it was to hear Angus Tully be this comforting. You heard the smaller voice again and heard that it was Ye-Joon.

“I know it’s an excellent school, and my brothers went here. But I miss my family, and I have no friends.” His voice broke at the end, and so did a piece of your heart.

Then, Angus with his words of wisdom, said. “Yeah, well, friends are overrated. I’ll help you hide the sheets in the morning, all right? In the meantime, find a dry spot, and try to get some sleep.”

“Thank you.”

You gave it a few moments, still reeling over the gentleness of it all, before entering into the light of the infirmary room. You knocked lightly on the door frame not to frighten anyone.

Angus turned over his shoulder, and somehow didn’t jump when he saw you.

“Hi.” You greeted.

“Hey.” He responded, trying to act like his common, moody self.

You wanted to acknowledge what you heard; tease him (but not in an unkind way) about him being nice, ask him why, in the dead of night, was he like this and not in the daytime? Still, all you could manage was the basic.

“Is everything alright?”

He nodded. “Yeah, just nightmares, you know.”

“No,” you shook your head, deciding to lighten and grace the room with your sarcasm. “I’ve never had one in my life.”

Angus seemed to catch on, and it surprised you greatly to see him actually smile. “Nobody likes a bragger.”

“So that’s why you don’t have any friends.”

…Too much; too much sarcasm.

Both of your smiles fell, and you wanted nothing more than to shrivel up like a leaf and die in front of him, then have someone sweep out the crumbs of your body and then them on fire in the snow before burying the ashes.

You still can’t believe you came up with that metaphor quicker before you could say. “I’m just gonna…”

He nodded. “Yep.”

“Goodnight.”

“’Night.”

You scurried into the other room and under the covers of the bed. The fear of Teddy and Jason no longer was the thing keeping you up at night in that room; it was the worst possible thing you could’ve said to Angus Tully of all people.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

[pumpkinbxtch]

a request please, jaosn x reader, how do percy, poseidon, hera and tyson react if jason apologizes to them because the adorable blonde superman dreamed that he kissed the reader without permission (he hasn't confessed yet) and thinks he's a pervert :D

I dreamed about that today, my younger sister was scared because apparently I laughed very hard in my dreams at dawn.

guilty ๑⁠´ blurb

— jason grace x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: practically what is above. Jason being a silly in love

warnings: none, maybe swearing.

a/n: heyy. dessert is served. hope you like it. Jason asking for forgiveness and taking responsibility for everything is the most roman thing. so sweet too. i love him. 😭

—I made a big mistake.

Everyone's expressions changed completely. Coming from Jason, a confession like that couldn't be taken lightly.

“What would he have done to bring two gods?” Percy wondered as he looked at Tyson. And why did he want them to be there too?

Hera cleared her throat and straightened her posture.

—Jason... what are you talking about?

— was not my intention.

His voice sounded shaky and his cheeks struggled not to turn red.

— what wasn't your intention, boy? Should we call my brother? — Poseidon stabbed his trident into the grass and looked askance at Percy for an explanation, but he was just as confused.

Jason's skin crawled and he shook his head.

— I don't want to put my father in disgrace.

Hera touched her chest and encouraged Jason to continue as he took a seat at one of those dining tables at Camp Half-Blood. What would her champion have done so wrong that he sought refuge in her first rather than her father?

— Nept... Poseidon.— Jason bowed before him. Then he bowed to Tyson and Percy too. The brothers saw each other out of the corner of their eyes. Totally confused.—I dreamed of her daughter, desecrating her lips with a kiss.

Nobody said anything for a few seconds, those sounds of nature became more intense in the dining room, but the air was filled with disbelief.

The tension disappeared from the god's shoulders and he looked at Hera confused. She let out a whimper and rested his forehead on the palm of her hand as she shook her head. If he was right in his suspicions, that action indicated an "Oh, not again."

Jason deepened his reverence before the god.

— I beg your forgiveness. Although I know I don't deserve any after committing such an atrocity.

Gods, what?

Poseidon held back the urge to laugh but Percy, his son, didn't help him when he burst into laughter. Tyson imitated his brother without knowing why he did it, but he seemed funny. That's when the sea god let out a laugh, still very polite.

Hera scowled at him but she couldn't deny it, it was a complete joke.

Jason looked at them with his eyebrow slightly raised as the three of them laughed and Hera sagged in embarrassment.

What had he done wrong?

—boy, have you already told my daughter that you like her?

Jason's cheeks flushed, his pale skin not helping him hide it at all.

—No sir. That is why-

— Do it. Stop the nonsense. — He pointed the trident at him and Percy looked cautiously at his father, taking care that he didn't overdo it with his friend — And if you do anything to my baby... you'll die.

—Poseidon! — Hera screeched.

He laughed — No, it's not true. But be careful boy. You almost gave us a... again, what's that phrase?

— A heart attack— Percy said, rolling his eyes.

— Heart attacks are not fun — Tyson muttered and Poseidon agreed.

—They're not fun — he repeated and gave Hera a look. —Your boy has a very tough sense of responsibility.

— He is Roman, Poseidon — Hera said, moving her hands with disdain and giving Jason a longing look. — My champion is in love.

His expression immediately changed to a serious one.

—Jason, I already told you that you don't have to apologize for everything.

—But it's the rig-

— The right thing, yes. But this time it was a dream about kissing Poseidon's daughter. We don't care, even less if you can have other types of dreams... — she raised her eyebrow and Jason felt like he was going to explode at that moment. Even some hairs rose with electricity.

Hera waving her hands to calm him down.

— Ew! She is my sister! — Percy screeched with a disgusted face. Jason smiled.

—Jason is in love with our little sister—Tyson said between giggles.

[tightjeansjavi]

Et Auream - The Prologue

“The Boy”

Copyright © 2024 by tightjeansjavi. I do not give permission for my writing to be copied and reposted. I do not give permission for my writing to be fed to Ai bots or chat GPT.

A/N: well…🤭 it’s here! I decided to bite the bullet and post the prologue sooner because I am an impulsive Aries after all! This story has taken over my mind body and soul 🫠 just ask @sinsofsummers @penvisions @beardedjoel @corazondebeskar @punkshort & @kenobiwanx (just to name a few moots who have listened to me yap and yap and yap 🥹) it’s an understatement when I say just how I excited I am for this story. I currently have 17 chapters written, and we are only at the halfway point! There is so much more to come 😉

Summary: Marcus Acacius, from a young age was taught to be brave, gentle, just, and compassionate. His mother, Lucia, has kept her son’s true identity hidden from his callous father, Varus. On the eve of Marcus’s 10th birthday, an accident occurs, and when the truth is revealed, Marcus learns firsthand just how cruel the world he was born into could truly be.

word count : 1.6k

Warnings: enslavement, child enslavement, child abuse, domestic abuse, canon typical violence, death of a minor character, language, minors dni! +18

Timeline : Emperor Lucius Septimius Severus - ruled from April 13th 193AD - February 4th 211AD (historical) Succeeded by: Publius Septimius (Geta) born 191AD (birthdate is fictional) & Marcus Aurelius Antonius (Caracalla) born 193AD (birthdate is fictional)

Marcus was born May 17th 193AD (Taurus) 203AD - Marcus is 10 206AD - Marcus is 13 211AD - Marcus is 18 when he meets Geta 216AD - Marcus is 23

Geta was born June 9th 191AD (fictional birthdate, not historical) (Gemini) 203AD - Geta is 12 206AD - Geta is 15 211AD - Geta is 20 when he meets Marcus 216AD - Geta is 25

Caracalla was born October 27th 193AD (fictional birthdate, not historical) (Scorpio) 203AD - Caracalla is 10 206AD - Caracalla is 13 211AD - Caracalla is 18 when he meets Marcus 216AD - Caracalla is 23

Translations : Acacius (Roman, male) - one who is free from evil (innocence) also symbolizes strength, resilience & protection Varus (Roman, male) - bent, crooked Lucia (Roman, female) - light Medicus - physician, doctor Dominus - master

Under the rule of Emperor Septimius Severus May 17th, 193 AD

When Marcus Acacius was born into the world, he did not scream like most babes did. He cooed and babbled, his long lashes opened and revealed the deepest brown eyes, rich in color like the soil that nurtures life. His mother wept as he clung to her breast. She did not shed tears of joy, but tears of sorrow and dread as she had prayed to the gods for a daughter. Not because she wouldn’t have been grateful for a son, but because his father; her Dominus, wanted a daughter, as he already possessed many sons.

She concealed him from the midwives who gave the new mother her much needed privacy after birth. It would only be a matter of time before their Dominus would return home from his travels.

“Marcus.” She whispered, lips gentle and motherly against his soft, fragile forehead. “Marcus Justus Acacius.” She sniffled. “Do you know what your name means, my son? It symbolizes innocence, strength, protection, and resilience. An honorable name for a special boy.” She cradled him close to her chest. “Your father will not love you the way that I will, but you mustn’t let it hurt you, Marcus. You must always be brave, gentle, just, and compassionate.”

Marcus’s true identity was carefully hidden beneath clothing designed for girls, and his hair grew long and lustrous. His mother, Lucia kept him close to her side as she tended to the gardens and helped prepare all the Dominus’s meals. Varus was neither kind nor cold, but he appeared to be pleased with Lucia blessing him with what he believed to be his first daughter. So much so, that he intended to marry her the following year—right before Marcus’s tenth birthday.

Tragedy struck days before the planned wedding date. On the eve of Marcus’s tenth birthday, he suffered an injury falling off of his horse, but that was not the worst of it. While the medicus was examining the injuries Marcus sustained, the truth was discovered that Varus’s daughter was in fact a boy.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Varus booming voice could be heard just outside the cracked doorway of Marcus’s bedroom.

“Sir, I understand that this news is upsetting and the most shocking, but it is true. Your daughter is a fraud, and is in fact a boy.”

“Mother.” Marcus croaked from where he laid with tears beginning to roll down his cheeks. “I’m—I’m so sorry. I swear, I was being careful! I lost my stirrup and—”

Lucia squeezed her son’s trembling hand firmly and reassuringly. She leaned over, brushing his temple with a soft kiss. “Shh, my son. You have done nothing wrong, Marcus. Accidents happen, and it was only a matter of time before Varus would discover the truth. I am the one who is sorry, my beautiful boy.”

“This is an outrage! My to-be wife has been lying to me all these years?! This is a disgrace, and I will seek to have her severely punished for her crimes of treachery against me!”

“No, mother! You have nothing to be sorry for! You have done everything to protect me, and I am forever grateful. You have taught me to be brave, gentle, just, and compassionate. Remember? It is my fault for being so careless.” He uttered in frustration.

“No, my son. You are but a child. The fault cannot fall on your shoulders. You must continue to be brave, gentle, just, and compassionate. No matter what life throws your way, promise me you will always remain true to your heart and the values I have instilled in you.” She cradled his cheek in her hand, brushing away stray tears and rested her forehead against his. “In this life and the next, you will always be my son.”

The door slammed open to reveal a seething Varus and Marcus never feared for his life more until the man who was half responsible for bringing him into this world looked at him as if he was nothing—not a person with feelings and emotions just like him. No, Varus looked upon his unwanted son as if he were the filth beneath his shoes and the very bane of his existence.

“Varus, please. Let me explain. I beg you to show our son mercy. He is just a boy! A bright, innocent, beautiful, kind boy!” Lucia exclaimed from his bedside, pleading for Varus to be merciful. She stood up quickly from the bedside to try and block Varus from reaching Marcus.

Varus stalked into the room, fury stricken in his irises, and when Lucia dared to place herself in his way, he struck her across the cheek hard enough that she fell against the wall, smacking her head against the stone, falling unconscious from the impact.

Marcus let out a terrified scream, his eyes wide with fear. He yelled his mothers name when Varus reached for the covers and yanked them back from his trembling body.

“She demands I show you mercy, boy.” He said between gritted teeth, malice dripping in his cold tone. He clasped his hand against Marcus’s wounded right shoulder, squeezing it tightly with no remorse.

Marcus let out a pained sound from the back of his throat, clawing desperately at his father’s hand to release him. “Father, please!” He cried, “you’re hurting me!”

“You are no son of mine.” Varus seethed and dragged the young boy from his bed and far away from where his mother laid. Marcus was never given the chance to tell her one last time just how much he loved her, or to say goodbye.

Marcus screamed for his mother till his throat was rubbed raw and he no longer had a voice. The pain in his shoulder weakened him to a state of unconsciousness, and when he woke, he found himself stuffed into an iron cage along the back of a horse-drawn carriage with ten other boys all around his age. His wrists and ankles were shackled in iron, and a collar around his neck signified his ownership to a new Dominus.

Varus had sold Marcus to a slave trader that was well known for training young boys and men to be gladiators for the barbaric games that took place in the Colosseum. Lucia would never see her son again or know of his fate.

To this day, Marcus favors his left side as the injury he sustained to his dominate shoulder never properly healed, and sometimes it still causes him pain, especially after a brutal fight.

Because he was not born with violence in his veins and rage in his heart, Marcus refused to fight even after his new Dominus would beat him, he would not grasp a sword in his palm. This made him an easy target for the other boys to take their rage and frustrations out on. Runt, they would call him. Jabbering at him like squawking crows. Coward. Pathetic. Their insults would ricochet off his body as if he was wearing invisible armor. He remained quiet and reserved till one night he had been pushed to his limits.

“Do you think you’re better than the rest of us, Acacius? Is that why you choose to not fight?” One of the boys questioned him around the dying fire.

“No. I don’t think myself to be better than anyone.” Marcus quietly said under his breath and moved to stand up from where he was sitting, but a hand on his bad shoulder forced him back down.

“Then why don’t you fight, hm? The runt won’t even defend himself!” The boy cackled and his friends joined in.

“Please stop.” Marcus said through gritted teeth.

“I bet your whore of a mother was ashamed that her son turned out to be such a coward! That’s why she sold you off, right? She couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes any longer!” He laughed. “And who could blame her?”

“Don’t you dare speak of my mother as if you knew her!” Marcus roughly brushed the hand from his shoulder and stood up in a fury.

“Your mother was a whore and I bet she died as one too!”

Marcus couldn’t remember the events that transpired moments later. All he could recall was the sound of steel being unsheathed, and seeing red behind his eyes. He was thirteen years of age when he killed for the first time. He plunged his sword so deeply into the boy's gut that it appeared through the other side, dripping in crimson.

Under the new rule of Emperor Publius Septimius (Geta) & Marcus Aurelius Antonius (Caracalla) April, 211 AD

After five years of extensive, unforgiving, and grueling training to become a gladiator, Marcus was taken before the two young emperors who had only just recently succeeded their late father, emperor Septimius Severus, to be observed in training before the next anticipated fight in the Colosseum.

“This one appears promising.” Emperor Geta, twenty years of age, sat alongside his younger brother, Caracalla in his golden throne. “I intend to meet him officially.”

“He is weak. Do you not see the way he favors one side to the other? He is unbalanced, and his opponents will pick their teeth with his bones.” Caracalla said with a jabbing snicker. “He surely won’t survive through a single fight.”

“We shall see.”

When he was approached by the emperors after the training session had wrapped up, Marcus quickly bowed in their regal, commanding presence. He brought his sword to rest against the breastplate of his armor out of respect.

“What do they call you, gladiator?” Geta inquired with his hands clasped behind his back.

“Acacius, sir.”

“And what do you desire most in this life, Acacius?”

Marcus lowered his sword, the edge of the blade dug into the coarse sand below. His emotionless gaze, directed at the eldest emperor, was contrasted by emotionally charged words of a man whose only desire in life was to be free.

“To be a free man.”

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[chaotic-multi-fandom]

WHERE DOES IT START? ARUN, AMADEO, ARMAND

- My personal reflections on Armand's names in Interview with the Vampire (show version)

“Who am I Louis?” Armand asks while staring at a painting of a boy that only he would ever be able to recognize as himself. He stares at what is supposed to be his essence captured forever on a canvas, and yet the kneeling boy is a stranger to him. When he asks Louis this, he is earnest. Armand does not know who he is, and this lack of identity crushes and torments him. Armand seems to constantly define himself by his attachment to other people or things, such as a “servant”, as “the job (he) did not want” or as someone’s “companion” because he has never known anything else, he is never just “Armand;” he does not know who that is.

This is further reflected in his names, and the fact that despite having several none belong to him. First there’s Arun. This is supposedly the name he was born with, but even he is not sure of this due to his memory being clouded as a consequence all the horrors he suffered as a child. This name is not his, it is a name so linked to the abuse he endured that it has become the name of said abuse rather than the name of a person. His use of third person when talking about himself as “Arun” signals both a coping mechanism to distance himself from those experiences as well as the disconnect he feels from the identity attached to the name.

Then, there’s Amadeo. A name given to him by Marius, not only linking him directly with his maker and master but with God and worship, the name meaning “lover of god”. This name is also not his, but rather a projection of what Marius saw or expected in Armand. This is what we see in the painting, an ideal: a submissive, worshipful, whitewashed Armand degraded to kneel at the same level as the dog behind him, “basking in (his) worshipful mercy.” Regardless of how Armand did embody this role of worship and servitude during his time with Marius, that painting is not him, it is the fantasized construct that is Amadeo, who doesn’t really exist. When you think about it, Amadeo being a projection of those around him is not entirely different to “dreamstat” being a projection of Louis. This is of course largely my own interpretation and not fact, but I think anyone can agree that who is being portrayed in that painting is Armand only in name. It is simply another example of his body being used for a purpose, an artistic one in this case, his true essence and even features entirely forgotten and replaced by Amadeo’s. So, that name and the identity attached to it wasn’t entirely Armand’s either. Much like “Arun” being tied to his parents abandon and the brothel, Amadeo is trapped in the painting: just another property to be “sold” or “donated;” what Armand has always been treated as.

Finally, there is the name we call him by now: Armand. A name given to him by the Roman coven before sending him to the Paris coven, a collective that he is now supposed to lead and put before himself as an individual. It is a French name, a place he had no connection to before-hand and that only further distances him from who he might have once been, forcing him to adapt and assimilate into the new role he has been chained to. The name is a role in itself, as it means “soldier.” Furthermore, he is not a simple leader to this coven, he is the somewhat paternal and religious figure through which the coven; his “children,” serve Satan and through him, God. He is part of a “murky trinity” as Lestat calls it, a twisted parody of the holy trinity. So, “Armand” is once again much more than a name; it is another projection the lost and abandoned coven latches onto. Of course, they mostly refer to him as “maitre,” the implications of which I’ve already discussed in a different post. In this case, the dual titles “Armand” and “Maitre” are parallel to “Amadeo,” they both link Armand to the concepts of owner and God, except the roles change from being the owned worshiper to the worshiped owner. It remains someone else’s image, someone else’s name, one that prevents Armand from exploring who he is without it.

Armand does not have a name; how can he know who he is?

Even now he seeks the answer in Louis where he will not find it. There are, however, moments in which this seemed to be challenged. For example, shortly after meeting, Armand asks Louis to address him as such instead of “maitre” as his coven does. It is a moment in which he takes agency over what he wants to be called, a privilege he has never had before. Later, Louis calls him Arun as a way to indicate that he can see the person that lies behind the roles he plays, and that he can be himself around Louis. Yet these moments are still tainted. The name Armand does not reflect who he is, and in the conversation with Louis, Armand falls into his old patterns by addressing Louis as “maitre.” Plus, Louis too will go on to misuse this, but that’s a whole other topic. These instances, though revealing a more loving and honest side to Louis’ and Armand’s relationship in which they allow themselves to be open, they can not give Armand a sense of self. No one but himself can, and yet he doesn’t know how that is. It is a tragic never-ending paradox as immortal as he.

[jaebeomsbitch]

Out Of Control (R.R.)

Summary: After years of working for Roman you're finally fed up by the late night calls and verbal abuse. You put Roman in his rightful place.

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, humiliation kink, degradation, verbal abuse, dryhumping,

A/N: The stills of Kieran innocently looking up in the actors on actors really wrote this

You were Roman’s first personal assistant. He usually chose to run by himself whereas his siblings had their assistants two steps behind them. He’d joke that they were corporate slaves and you were lucky to be working under him with that knowing smirk on his face. He had a certain aversion to you, something about your presence rubbed him the wrong way. You couldn’t stand him either, always telling yourself it was only temporary while you paid off your loans. Only a year until you finish, you promised yourself. 

Only one more year of being antagonized by Roman. He has this annoying habit of calling you at two or three in the morning, demanding you hand deliver some documents to his penthouse. He threatens to fire you if you don’t comply. Only one more year… twelve more months with that insufferable bastard. You stomp toward the elevator, giving the doorman a nod. He’s all too used to seeing you come in pissed off, steam practically blowing out of your ears. As the door dings open you try to remind yourself to keep calm. Don’t snap at him, he’d probably find pleasure in it. 

“God no, they’re soulless. I think every time they're on their phone they’re spilling company secrets. Shut the fuck up, no- No. Let me fucking talk Jesus christ. I don’t fucking– Fuck you!” he hangs up his phone call, startled seeing you at the entrance. He motions for you to come in, doesn’t even bother to greet you. You huff, handing him the documents then turning away, prepared to leave. 

“Wait,” He says, hand up in the air. You can’t help but roll your eyes, god even his voice was annoying. It was like nails on a chalkboard. 

“Yes?” You respond, voice a little more aggressively than you liked. You wanted to appear collected in front of Roman. Knowing he’d use your weaknesses against you. 

“These are the wrong documents, I asked for 12-15. This– you’re fucking kidding me right?” He scoffs, his anger seeping through the room. 

“Okay,” You nod stiffly, he definitely didn’t ask for twelve through fifteen but you knew how he operated. He’d always try to push your buttons, ask for one thing and then demanding the other. You learned to keep a copy of anything that’s relevant to him at the time. You look through your bag, pulling out the new documents. 

“I also need the documents for the LA contract,” He says, knowing you won’t have those. He hasn’t dealt with the LA branch in almost a year. 

“Right now?” You ask, already knowing how he’s gonna reply. 

“No fuckin’ tomorrow, yes right now. I can’t sit around and wait for you,” He sneers, a facial expression you’re all too familiar with. 

“Give me an hour, need any other document?” You hold your tongue.  

“An hour! What type of assistant are you? Jess would’ve had those documents prepared yesterday. You’re fuckin’ useless, maybe I should fire you,” He taunts, his finger pointed at you. 

“You know what, fuck this! I fucking quit asshole,” You yell at him. Finally at your breaking point, the late night calls, the beratings, the sexual remarks all too much. His eyes widen, not expecting you to snap. You’re always so calm and collected it honestly scared him. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, unable to mask his true feelings. 

“Yeah good riddance,” He gives you a half wave, not looking at you. He pretends to study the documents you handed him, he tries to keep his fear down. Another person in his life gone. 

“No- that’s not how this is gonna work,” You enunciate every word, your anger pushing you forward. The years of holding in your pent up emotions finally spilling out. 

“You’re a selfish fucking brat, you call me at three in the fucking morning for documents I know you won’t fucking read because you’ll make me read them for you. You’re a fucking piece of shit Roman– Worse. You’re worse than a piece of shit, I think somewhere deep down inside you know you’re nothing. You’re just the cowardly little boy of a billionaire. If only another fucking sperm won huh? Maybe they’d be more fucking competent than you,” You deride. 

He looks at you mouth wide open, he’d only ever been spoken to like this by one other person. However, you were more vile and a whole lot less controlled. He notices the way you shake in anger, shit… why was this kind of hot? He clears his throat, trying to drop the documents in his hand on his lap inconspicuously.

“You’re fired, you can leave,” He tries to say in an even tone but his voice cracks a little. You take your time to study him, “No– I’ve taken and taken verbal abuse from you for fucking years now. The least you can do is the same. I’m fired anyway right? Call your security if you’re so scared,” you mock. 

“You are the worst type of human, Roman, for someone who talks about his dick all day he can’t fucking use it. I’ve heard the countless stories of scared little Roman pushing women off of him. If you can’t get hard then maybe stop fucking talking to me about your dick. God even your fucking cock is useless just like you,” You sigh, throwing your hands in the air in frustration. 

“You seem a little obsessed with my cock for someone who doesn’t want to hear about it,” He chuckles to himself. 

“Do you think I’m stupid or that I haven’t noticed? Take the fucking papers off your lap Roman,” You gibe. 

“Is this what you like? Can’t fuck your girlfriends because they don’t tell you how fucking disgusting you are? You’re a pathetic excuse for a man,” You take a few steps closer, hovering above him, your breath coming out in puffs. He sits there dumbfounded, at your confidence. You are right, he’s painfully hard under the papers, precum already spilling in his underwear. You forcefully take the documents out of his hand, throwing them on the table. 

“You like being reminded how you mean nothing to the world? If I killed you right now, you wouldn’t even make an ATN headline,” You snarl, pushing his shoulder into the seat. He pants, unable to form sentences, random syllables spilling out, he seems like he's under a spell. 

“God, what if someone found out hmm? They figured out how the ‘illusive’ Roman Roy likes to be pushed around in bed? That his little dick gets hard at people degrading him?” You push your fingers into his chest. His eyes are half-lidded, mouth open, breath rushing out. 

“Get on the floor,” You command, walking over to sit on his couch. He sits there dumbfounded for a second, blinking in confusion. 

“Are you fucking stupid? Get on the floor right now Roman,” you say more forcefully. He slowly climbs out of the seat, sitting on his knees. He looks down, embarrassed but he can’t fight your command, your voice has him under some sorcery. That familiar cadence in your voice brings him something he craved. 

“Crawl to me, like the disgusting fucking dog you are,” You order, crossing one leg over the other. There is a certain pleasure in watching your annoying boss crawl to you on all fours. His head unable to look up at you as he crowds your leg. He hangs his head in shame, his humiliation seeping in as his cock presses against the zipper on his slacks. He can’t help but shudder at the feeling. 

“Is this what you wanted, hmm?” You say sarcastically. 

“You acted like a spoiled fucking brat so I can treat you like this? If you wanted my attention you could’ve just asked, like a big boy. So tell me, is this what you wanted?” You ridicule. He can’t look up at you, the words stuck in his throat. It feels like he has honey in his mouth. 

“For someone so chatty you sure are quiet now,” You roll your eyes, uncrossing your legs, and leaning forward. You grab his chin in your hand, forcefully pulling him to look at you. His big hazel eyes are watery, he almost looks innocent, but you remember all those times he’s called you nasty names, all his insults. 

“Answer me moron,” You bare your teeth, face centimeters from his. 

“Y-yes,” He sighs, finally maintaining eye contact. 

“‘Yes’ Yes what?” You mock him. 

“Yes, I-I called you here to make you mad,” He admits, his eyebrows furrowing making his face look somehow even more innocent. 

“What did you want to happen Romulus?” You use his full-name knowing it’s only reserved for when his father is really mad at him. It feels foreign in your mouth and yet perfect. You feel powerful as he shivers under your piercing gaze. 

“I- d’know,” He slurs his words, trying to look away from you. His embarrassment hanging heavy as your prod. He truly didn’t know what he wanted… He just wanted to be dominated. You seemed like the perfect person. You were cool and collected with a sea of rage hiding underneath the surface. He was attracted to you the first time he saw you working for Kendall. Something about stealing his brother’s prized possession felt good.

You slip off your shoe, putting it on his couch not caring if it stains it. You press the bottom of your sole to his chest, pushing him deeper onto his knees until his ass hits the floor. 

“God you’re pathetic,” You scoff, looking at his big hazel eyes. You run your foot down his chest, he looks down following your path, you drop it to the bulge in his pants, lightly pressing against it. His breath quickens, eyes closing shut as you start moving your foot back and forth. He tries to ground himself, grabbing onto your calf, his nails digging into your skin. 

“Who said disgusting pieces of shit like you are allowed to touch me?” You push his hands away from you, his eyes opening. 

“Now, what do you want?” You ask him, crossing your arms over your chest, your foot stops, giving him a chance to think. His mouth opens and closes. 

“I- I– I–” he can’t form a full sentence as you start rubbing him through his slacks again. 

“ ‘I- I–’ Look at you, you’re all stupid already. Your underwear must be a mess, huh? Fucking useless pervert,” You smirk, enjoying the huffs of his breath filling the room. His hands twitching at his side, his cock throbbing at your words, he lets out a little sound. 

“What’s wrong? Already gonna cum? Gonna ruin your pants before you’ve even got your cock in me?” His hands grip the sides of his pants, his hips following your foot. He mewls when you stop, you drop your foot in between his thighs. 

“Be a good pup and get yourself off,” You command. He looks at you a little lost but scoots closer, he takes a tentative buck against your leg. He tilts his head back, eyes shutting at the friction, he can’t help but moan.. 

“Look at you, what would your dad think? What would think seeing his pathetic son humping his assitant’s leg like a fucking dog,” You say. 

“Ye- Yes, be so disappointed,” He moans, he bucks his hips faster, losing himself in the feeling.

“Look at you humping my leg like a bitch in heat. You’re fucking pathetic, you disgust me,” You snarl and it pushes him over the edge. His hips twitch, he bites down on your knee, his cum leaking all over his underwear, as he gasps trying to catch his breath, practically slobbering on your knee and inner thigh. 

“C’mon,” You pull him up by his armpit onto the couch. He’s shaking, this all was too much, his feelings overflowing. 

“Shh.. it’s okay,” You pull him close, rubbing his back as his emotions crash over him like a wave. He rocks himself back and forth in your arms as you soothe him, you pull him onto your lap. He nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing in your scent until he’s calmed down. Isn’t this a bitch? You have to calm him down. You’d feel much differently if this was a scene and he was your sub but he decided to take the difficult route.

“You okay?” You ask, breaking the awkward silence. He doesn’t know what to say, he needed the release, craved it but now that it’s over he’s left with that hole in his heart again. If only you both were different. If you weren’t his assistant and he wasn’t an asshole. 

“Yeah, I’m good. So good,” He scoffs, removing himself from your lap. He doesn’t look at you, walking into his bedroom and changing. After about twenty minutes of waiting you decide to leave, clearly he wasn’t emotionally mature to talk about whatever happened between the two of you. 

To your surprise you get a phone call in the morning, “Where the fuck are you, god you’re so incompetent!” Roman grumbles on the line. His words have no bite now that you know how to put him in his place. 

[curtwilde]

Henry vs Julian

I have been thinking about this a lot. While Henry clearly admires and models his scholar self on Julian, their essential difference is in how they perceive the Ancient Greeks.

Julian's interest in the Ancient Greeks is true interest, he admires their high and exalted values. For him, the Greeks were the highest point of human civilization, and the closer he comes to his own time the more his disdain increases - the Roman Catholic Church he holds in contempt but it's still a 'worthy enemy' not as bad as the Presbyterian Church. It isn't mentioned but he must hold modernism and it's philosophy with disdain - modernist moral vacousness being a direct contradiction of the idealist values loyalty, honor, chastity etc. that were so exalted by the Greeks. Which is why he is always cherry picks, sees only what he wants to see, and invents what he can't - both for himself (his ambiguous involvement with the Isrami government) or for his students (encouraging Richard to lie about his life in California). Since he can't time travel back to Greece himself, he must try to live that life as much as he can and believe himself a character in a Greek play. But it comes, not from a place of wanting to escape his current reality, but true admiration of the ancient Greek way of seeing and doing things.

Henry is a true modernist. The monologue about feeling dead is central to his understanding his character:

Maybe it stems from his near death experience but he sees the world as inherently meaningless, God is dead and heaven and hell have been revealed to be man-made constructs, there is no punishment for evil and since there is no moral line. I think he subconsciously realised all of this before coming to Hampden, but to truly accept it would have been soul-crushing. So he tries to escape it by immersing himself in the Greeks, I imagine the absolutist values, vague representational ideas pertaining to each god might have interested him but really, it could have been anything else, the Medieval Age or the Victorians, anything. He just needed something to be obsessed with, to give meaning to his existence which he subconsciously knew to be meaningless. So is his adoration of Julian, he admired and wanted Julian's ability to almost half-live in another time when, in his view, things mattered more (we have divinity in our midst). It also explains the Bacchanal which is otherwise so out of character for him. The appeal was to escape the soul crushing knowledge of meaninglessness - even if for a while. To worship and call on Dinosiyus with the blind belief of the Ancient Greeks, a kind of belief that simply cannot exist anymore in the postmodern, post-Neitzche world. His harebrained plans also came from the same impulse, including the poison plan, and the one way ticket to Argentina.

I suspect that what subconsciously drove him to murder bunny, aside from the obvious fear of getting caught - is the same thing that drove Mersault to murder the Arab - it's the old existentialist question, if good and bad are relative and there is no punishment for evil, how far can one go? Bunny's murder was Henry's existentialist experiment with himself. And, I think in a way it confirmed for him what he already knew, they escaped unscathed and he didn't feel any of the fear or remorse he expected to feel. While it did give him the momentary sense of power, the feeling that he could now do whatever he wanted if he can be clever enough to not get caught, since he won't be punished for it otherwise. While it gave him enough courage to go get the girl he always wanted - it did confirm for him the inherent meaninglessness of the world. Also, conversely, Camilla could have been another experiment - something must matter, was it love? Camilla was the only girl he knew and he was fond of her - he may not even have thought of her romantically before considering he never cared to act on it in all the time he had known her. But either way, Julian's abandonment broke him.

Coming back to Julian, Julian's abandonment omakes perfect sense to me - he was disgusted by the modernist moral vacousness in his students. He himself was a moral man, but his morals operated on his own standards. He based it on the Greek sense of Honour, not the more modern sense of Justice. His basic instinct was the preservation of his own purity - he couldn't possibly keep on as their teacher. But also, to turn them in would be against his sense of honour - he must have very little respect for the police and law enforcement as institutions being the kind of person he is. Not to mention it would mean his having to be in frequent contact with the police and court. From his point of view atleast, leaving is the only thing he could have done, really.

For Henry however, he sees that his obsession with the Greeks as well as his admiration for Julian as the sham that it really was, is disillusioned with the world, shattered. Except for his fondness for Camilla he didn't really have anyone he loved, he saw his friends as pawns, wasn't close to his family, didn't have any goals in life with everything in his reach with his father's money - the only person he had really loved was Julian, and there he was betrayed. His obsession with the ancient Greeks was also thus tainted with Julian's betrayal - since it wasn't true interest at all, only a disguised attempt at escapism - it wavered and fell apart, and he didn't have a reason to live anymore.

.

Side note : Richard falls between the two. Like Julian, he had a real interest in the ancient Greeks, but he didn't put them on a pedestal like Julian did. He realised that like his own time, and like all other times in history the Greek civilization too had its own good and bad aspects, and he wanted to learn about it for its own sake. But he doesn't make it his life, or use it to escape his own reality - outside of his classes he was very much rooted in his own time.

[10yrsyart]

possibly my favorite song of all time, “The Prodigal Son Suite” by Keith Green, tells the parable of the same name in Luke 15:11-32.  a man asked for his inheritance from his father before he’d even passed and then goes off to waste it all on worldly fun and fast friends. but when he runs out, he hits hard times and in his struggle, realizes his mistakes. he heads back home, hoping he will at least be allowed to work as a servant for his father. upon his arrival, his father rushes to meet him and the son confesses his sins and regrets. but the father is overjoyed to see him; he’s already forgiven him and throws a huge feast to celebrate his return to the family.

this parable is a beautiful picture of salvation and the heart of God the Father. the son didn’t deserve the celebration; he wronged his father and turned away from him. but the father still loved him and was ready and waiting to receive him back. the reconciliation only happened once the son acknowledged his mistakes and made the choice to return.

every one of us has sinned against God. and yet He still sent Jesus to die for us and pay for that sin in our place. He waits eagerly for us to repent (which means a change of mind) and turn to Him. His eternal gift of salvation is a gift of Grace, meaning it’s something we didn’t and can’t earn. like the father, Jesus waits with open arms to forgive us and receive us into His Heavenly family. and as Luke 15:7 says, “There is more joy in Heaven over one lost sinner who repents and returns to God, than over ninety-nine others who are righteous and haven’t strayed away!” 

“We are made right with God by placing our faith in Jesus Christ. And this is true for everyone who believes, no matter who we are. For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard. Yet God, with undeserved kindness, declares we are righteous. He did this through Christ Jesus when He freed us from the penalty of sins.” (Romans 3:22-24)

(even greater than my love for the parable, is my love for the beginning and ending segments of music. it sounds so much like a Heavenly Homecoming to me, that i tried my best to incorporate that feeling into the ending.)

[outmakingmoonshine]

The Bear & Roman Mythology

After seeing this post by @thoughtfulchaos773 awhile ago I started looking into the myth of Venus and Mars and I'm now in a never ending rabbit hole of mythological conections in The Bear. If you haven't read the post above already I highly recommend checking it out before continuing with this. There are so many things that line up with characters and storylines in the show, even beyond the myth of V+M but it all still centers around the story of SydCarmy.

Thank you to @thoughtfulchaos773 for helping me structure and edit this post.

Disclaimer: There are many versions of mythological characters, sort of like different universes in Marvel & DC where the same characters appear in different stories, with different relationships and dynamics. Sometimes 2 characters are the same person but "split" into different aspects of broad concepts like love, war etc. There are also multiple different interpretations of those stories, relationships and dynamics by different philosophers, writers, artists etc. and of course this post is mixed with my own interpretation of the symbolism and priciples of the characters. Myths are heavily based on symbology and Roman myths are heavily based on the symbology of western astrology (or vice versa) so I'm mainly looking at the mythological and astrological symbols they're replicating in The Bear. This could be possible spoilers for the end of the show. Gifs that aren't credited are mine.

The table scene depicted Syd &Carmy as Venus & Mars but I think that was just the reveal of the mythological connections to their stories and they’ve been subtly showing us these (and other) mythological connections to multiple characters all along.

I debated putting this into parts but I think it needs to be understood all together so there is a lot of information and it's really long so it's under the cut.

Mars is the God of war and the spirit of battle who was immediately in awe of Venus's beauty, is attracted to her natural sexuality (not promiscuity) that matches his own and he quickly falls in love with her. (In astrology Mars also rules passion and lust.)

Carmy was practically in awe of Sydney’s beauty from the beginning

He openly sexually desires her from early on, his eyes basically magnetize to her lips whenever she's near and he can't help but flirt with her

He has fallen (or is falling) deeply in love with her

The overall tone of their myth together is Venus helps Mars find peace and balances out his war-like-nature so it doesn't consume him. He becomes a more evolved version of Mars from their relationship together. He's still the God of War but now with the wisdom of "being one" with love and peace. He can wage war in a noble and just way instead of like a savage because the true motive and purpose of war is to find peace.

Who is Carmy's motive/motivation for everything he's been doing?

Gifs by heardchef & thoughtfulchaos773 .

Who is a significant part of Carmy's purpose/dream?

Gifs by swannsways

And who does he desperately want to find a connection with? Syd, the source of his peace.

"Syd and Carmy do things for one another. She is a source of peace and focus for him and, at times, he can be a source of inspiration and dependability. Sometimes he can’t." - Jeremy Allen White

The overall tone of the show and Carmy's story so far is that he desperately needs to heal and find peace and Sydney is the one who brings that to him. Also Venus (Syd) is the only person in the entire Roman mythology (the show) that can get through to Mars (Carmy) and calm his anger and spirit of battle.

The actors and writers keep referring to Carmy as "like a baby" in interviews and we're watching him go through an evolution or "metamorphosis" on the show from being "like a baby" in dealing with his family situation, socialization, relationships, love etc, to being a man. Sydney was the catalyst for that change in Carmy like Venus was the catalyst for change in Mars.

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Venus was in a loveless marriage with the "God of the forge" aka the God of fire, Vulcan, and through her relationship with Mars finally gets to experience being with with someone who she truly loves and who loves her, someone who can match her nature with fiery passion.

The way I interpret the way the show plays with the symbology of Venus being "in a loveless marriage to the God of fire" is Sydney is the God of Fire (she's the one who represents fire in the show) but she has trouble believing in her own fire/passion and expressing it. Sydney loves cooking and she's excellent at it but she can't connect with her passion and make what she envisions. Sydney doesn't know how to express her loving nature either and that also keeps her from connecting with the fire inside her. Passion for something, creativity, cooking, love etc are all associated with fire. So Sydney is in a "loveless" marriage with her own fire. (Marriage is symbolic of being one with something/someone.)

Sydney also represents Ceres Goddess of agriculture, growth and motherly relationships. (I read a meta about this while ago but I can't find it now, if you know who wrote it please link it so I can add it here.) Syd is the reason for any growth of the restaurant and nearly everyone in it. She planted seeds of confidence, inspiration and motivation in so many of them and has nurtured their growth through the process. Carmy stopped letting her nurture the seeds she planted in him in 2x03.

Also Minerva (Goddess of Wisdom). The wisest people know they don't know everything so they spend a lot of time seeking more and more inspiration/knowledge/wisdom, symbolically they're all the same thing. Syd came to the restaurant to seek inspiration/wisdom in the culinary world from Carmy, he didn't deliver so turned to Coack K's book. Syd's always looking for ways to better her skills and knowledge even though she's already very skilled and knowledgable. Syd is usually the voice of reason for Carmy when he listens. She was a voice of reason for Richie in 1x07, although a very harsh one. Also in one version of myth Mars was in love with Minerva but she was annoyed by him and rejected his amourous advances and based on Syd's reaction to this amourous look from Carmy in 2x09

I think we might see Syd not being as open to these looks from him in S3.

I think Carmy also represents Neptune/Poseidon (God of the Sea). Blue, water, emotions, feelings etc all relate to water and to Carmy. Neptune had 2 main siblings, one was the God of the Heavens (Mikey), one was the God of the Earth (Nat, the Earth is symbolic of fertility) and Neptune (Carmy) was God of Freshwater and The Sea.

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Claire = Anna Perenna

Anna Perenna is the Goddess of Time and The Changing Of Years.

Time:

I still think the clocks in scenes with Claire relate to season 2's theme of time, “every second counts” and the fact Carmy was wasting time doing unproductive things with her instead of actually helping to build the restaurant. But I think another layer of meaning could be symbolism that she represents the Roman Goddess of time.

The changing of years - Anna Perenna is where the term "per annum" comes from, Anna symbolizes bringing in the new year but “the changing of years” can also be interpreted as metaphorically trying to "change" your past years, to make up for them, relive them or to right wrongs from them etc. That’s basically what Carmy was trying to do with Claire in S2, relive/"change" the negative effects of his past years. Carmy was trying to bring in a "new year" and new beginning but not with Claire, he wanted to start something new with Sydney.

The myth is Mars was in love with Minerva (Syd) and he went to Anna for advice but Anna wanted him for herself so she tricked/forced him into marrying her. Some versions don't mention a marriage between them and just say Anna disguised herself as Minerva to access Mars's bedchamber, either way their myth together revolves around her disguising herself as Minerva to force him into a relationship with her.

Carmy was imo very clearly attracted to Syd by 2x02. He ran into Claire and turned her down giving her a fake number but she wanted him anyway so she tracked him down and forced him to communicate with her which ultimately forced him into a relationship with her, even though that part wasn't really Claire's fault. I think Carmy gave in to Claire chasing him, one because he felt trapped and two, so he could learn through hanging out with Claire how to hang out with the woman he actually wants; Sydney. So he basically gave in to Claire to get a form of advice.

I'm not going to say much about the show's take on "disguising" Claire as Sydney, here are some posts that explain it very well. Carmy projecting his idea of Sydney onto Claire also plays into the concept of Anna being "disguised" as Minerva.

Anna and Mars do stay married (bc there's no divorce) in one version of myth but tricking Mars into marriage is basically all there is to the "love" part of their story which isn't really a love story because Mars was never in love with her and never chose to be with her. 

I think almost everyone in The Bear cast and the writers have said they want Carmy to end up happy, even Molly Gordon said it in a recent interview. Mars was not happy with Anna Perenna, he was trapped with her. Carmy isn't happy with Claire, he was basically cornered and trapped into that relationship. If Carmy is going to end up truly "happy", I don't see how that can be with Claire. They've done a lot of work with the script, the lighting, the directing, the music etc to show Carm is his happiest with Syd. It's ingrained so deeply in the narrative of the show now and they use Claire to contrast and highlight that fact. 

The show is about family, found family, love and connection with others. To be blunt, Carmy has shown zero signs he wants to genuinely connect with Claire on that level and every sign he wants to connect with Syd. He basicaly indirectly asked Syd to be his family multiple times. We haven't heard or seen that sentiment once with Claire. Everything the actors and writers have said on what the show is about and what they want for Carmy in the end isn't conducive to him ending up with Claire imo.

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Claire = Psyche

Psyche is a mortal who later becomes the Roman and Greek Goddess of the soul. She's a beautiful woman depicted as a pixie.

She’s portrayed as the “perfect-girl”, very beautiful...and that's about it for her personality traits. (Although later Psyche becomes a Goddess in her own right, the myths mostly present her as the male fantasy of the "ideal" beautiful woman with no distinct personality traits so men can project whatever idea they want on to her, much like how Claire is written.) She's a mortal who gains the attention of the Gods for her "otherworldly" beauty rivaling that of Aphrodite (the Greek version of the Roman, Venus). Considering most stories made today are retellings and twists of ancient epic tales, mythology, literature etc. I would bet the “manic pixie dream girl” trope is strongly influenced by Psyche.

One of the most well known novels including Psyche is “Metamorphoses”, alo known as “The Golden Ass” by Lucius Apuleius. It has 11 books but only 3 of them (books 4-6) are about Psyche and her love story with Cupid. 

**This might seem a bit confusing but it’s an important distinction to understand; Cupid is Venus & Mars’s “son” but not necessarily literally, everything in myth is symbolic. Figuratively V&M’s love “gave birth” or “created a new concept” that didn’t exist before, which is love and war combined as one. Cupid delivers love with a weapon so he’s the symbolic representation of V&M’s energies combined as one. Cupid is also known as Eros (God of erotic love) and Eros is the lust and passion aspect of Mars. Mars is not Eros/Cupid but Eros/Cupid is a singular aspect of Mars. In the show Carmy is not actually Cupid but Cupid is a version or aspect of who Carmy is. Similarly Psyche is a version or aspect of who Venus is so Claire is a version or aspect of Sydney. Psyche & Cupid are basically another rendition of Venus & Mars. Venus (the heart) becomes one with Mars (the ego/mind). Cupid (the heart) becomes one with Psyche (the mind). They're the same concepts just told from different perspectives for different cultures. 

The rest of the books in Metamorphoses are about the main character Lucius who is obsessed with “magic” and it follows his struggles, adventures and misfortunes on his personal journey of metamorphosis. Psyche & Cupid’s story shows up right in the middle of that as a kind of interruption to Lucius’s journey.

Here's Wikipedia's breakdown of the novel: 

Let's look at these story beats and see what’s recognizable in Carmy’s story in S2. But first:

Birds are symbols of freedom, hope, spirit, transition, new beginnings, strength, love, and joy. 

Donkey's are symbols of service, suffering, being servile, a beast of burden, a workhorse, being stubborn, stupid or just an “ass.”

“Lucius, dabbling in magic, attempts to turn into a bird”

I think "Magic" is symbolic of love here but to look a it from another angle, Carmy acted like he was put under a spell as soon as he met Claire in that freezer aisle. His focus has never been that great but it's like we entered into a different reality with Carmy's character in that scene and for most of S2. The same fiery man who doesn't mind being sassy, giving people attitude, who has no problem bossing anyone around, becomes a withdrawn shell of himself around Claire. Almost like he was a one-dimesional/singular aspect of himself with her. The whole airy fairy, fake deep, “stoner bro” way they were talking in that scene was also weird and unnatural imo, almost like they were portraying him as “under a spell” or “not fully himself” without bringing actual magic into the show. Tbf Carmy also seems like he's under a spell when he stares at Sydney so I think overall magic = love in this context. *Psyche & Cupid are still a love story and Carmy didn't know yet that he wasn't in love with Claire.

Through his relationship with Claire, Carmy was trying to be a bird; looking for freedom from his past, pain & trauma, hope, a new beginning, love & joy but he isn't looking for that with Claire, he’s looking for it with Sydney. He wants to transition into something new with Syd and was figuring out through Claire if/how he could do that. Claire was the cold prep.

Another layer of symbolism could be he was trying to be a bird by trying to be like Mikey (and Richie), be a “normal” guy, have a girlfriend, go to parties, be the “cool” guy etc. Trying to be what other people think freedom is because he has no idea how to make sense of it on his own.

“But after the spell goes wrong, turns himself into a donkey”

After “the spell” aka his relationship with Claire goes wrong, Carmy's been transforming into a "donkey" for most of S2.. His transition was complete in 2x10 in the walk-in when he stupidly and stubbornly came to the conclusion he can't be in a relationship and decided that reverting back to the mindset he was in at his worst in NY is the right thing to do. And judging by the trailers we're about to see him lean into being a “donkey” in S3. 

He's going to become a beast of burden, a workhorse, not just a burden for himself but for everyone else. Service is the nature of his job and he's going to work himself and everyone at The Bear to the bone. I think we all agree Carmy was stupid and “just an ass” regarding Syd in S2 and he's probably going to be an even bigger ass to her (unintentionally) in S3.

“And goes on a long journey where he is restored to human form by the Goddess Isis”

Isis is primarily known as the female matriarch in Egyptian mythology and is the basis of most, if not all, of the major female Gods created after her. Venus is the Roman version of Isis so Isis, Venus, Aphrodite etc are all different versions of the same concepts and principles just remixed and made more relatable for different cultures and time periods.

“Along the way, he hears many stories, including tales about Socrates and the endeavors of a group of bandits.”

I don't really know anything about the tales of Socrates but a quick Google gave me this:

I'm more interested in the unhighlighted part. It sounds like wisdom Carmy needs to think about and make useful if he's ever going to stop self-sabotaging and find peace. He needs to admit his ignorance and start listening to people instead of making up his own mind about what he thinks they mean, especially in regards to Syd. We're watching Carmy go through this continual questioning, his monologue scenes are one representation of that.

“The biggest, most notable story Lucius hears on his journey is about Psyche and Cupid's love story, spanning books 4-6.”

Psyche and Cupid's love story for the middle few books of the novel and Claire came into the show in the middle of the story. The story of C&P is a "side-story" and all Claire kept taking carmy on "side-missions" throughout their relationship.

The love story between Psyche and Cupid is long so I won't go into too much detail here but some brief relevant notes from it are; Venus was jealous of Psyche so she sent her “son”, Cupid (who’s really an aspect of Mars/Carmy) to make Psyche fall in love with a monster but Cupid accidentally hit himself with his own arrow and fell in love with her instead. I think Carmy “accidentally” falling into a relationship with Claire when he clearly didn’t see her as his girlfriend, represents that. When Psyche realizes she’s in love with a monster she runs away. Claire doesn’t really know who Carmy is and in 2x10 that “monster” side of him was revealed to her and she ran away.

I might make another post on Cupid & Psyche after I've seen S3 but here’s an interesting little preface of the story of Cupid & Psyche within Metamorphosis on Wikipedia:

“Lucius [...] finally regains human form by eating roses sacred to Isis.”  The end of the story is basically Lucius/Carmy stops being an ass and regains human form by eating roses sacred to Isis/Venus/Sydney.

I think Carmy is going to be “restored to human form”/ by Sydney at when he finally eats something she made, eats not tastes. Carmy will find love and peace, something he craves in another person, Syd is the only person he's shown he wants that with.

“As a structural mirror of the overarching plot, the tale is an example of mise en abyme. It occurs within a complex narrative frame, with Lucius recounting the tale as it in turn was told by an old woman”

Cupid and Psyche's story is a structural mirror of the overarching plot of The Golden Ass/Metamorphoses novel. Carmy, The Golden Ass, is going through a metamorphosis, the overarching plot of The Bear is about his journey. His story with Claire has been a mirror of his relationship with Sydney.

“Mise en abyme” is “the technique of placing a copy of an image within itself, often in a way that suggests an infinitely recurring sequence. In film theory and literary theory, it refers to the story within a story technique.” (Credit wikipedia)

Carmy & Claire are a smaller story within the overarching story of Carmy eventually finding love and peace with Sydney, that Carmy (Lucius) experiences on his journey of metamorphosis. Claire/Carmy is a copy of SydCarmy within the overall story.

Anyone who’s written a meta in this fandom knows how this show and sydcarmy “occurs with a complex narrative frame”. All the info in this post alone is barely scratching the surface of the mythological symbolism they’re using, let alone all the other works they’re using symbols and influences from.

“Although the tale resists explication as a strict allegory of a particular Platonic argument,”

Which basically means:

The story of The Golden Ass aka Carmy in The Bear, isn't easily explained as a clear example of a specific idea from Platonic (Plato's) philosophy. 

The use of the term “Platonic argument” here is very interesting imo, I know it has its own context here but what the showrunners and actors keep giving the audience is the “platonic argument”. Why do they keep repeating that word even after S2 when sydcarmy is clearly not just “platonic”?? These are cryptic clues imo, they want us to know what the show and story is about but they don’t want to tell us and ruin it. 

You can tell from all the different mythological connections to one character alone that this story doesn't come from a clear example of a specific idea, it's a hodgepodge of multiple stories and ideas but I think Apuleius’s “Metamorphoses aka The Golden Ass” may be the overall story the show is retelling. The Golden Ass is Carmy, (he’s the “star chef”, stars are gold. He never got any stars but he retained three of them, he’s like a “golden child/prodigy” in the culinary world.) The show in general is following his journey of metamorphoses. Venus & Mars are Psyche & Cupid, that’s why they keep parallelling carmy/claire with sydcarmy, blurring the lines between Syd & Claire and who Carmy’s thinking or talking about, flashing images of Syd in claire/carmy scenes etc.

Venus and Mars were only ever a secret love affair btw. They never got married or were officially together, the story of their romance is really based on speculation and interpretation. That’s basically how the show has deliberately portrayed sydcarmy as they continue to give their story so many romantic elements but still gaslight the audience so it stays a "secret love affair”.

I think The Bear is a modern retelling of the story of Venus & Mars and Cupid & Psyche via the story in Metamorphosis where V&M, one of the greatest love stories of all time, actually end up together in the end. Carmy experiences a love story with Psyche on his journey but the story ends with him being saved by Isis/Venus.

If you got this far, thank you for reading! I need to write another part about Richie (and possibly Nat if I find enough connections) but I want to wait until I’ve seen S3 first. Briefly, I think Richie might be Apollo who is Perceus in Greek mythology and the rival/brother of Ares/Mars. Apollo is the one who tells V&M’s husband about her affair with Mars and helps Vulcan catch and expose them. I also think Richie sees himself as Mars in a way, the leader of the army so to speak. Other than the mention earlier, I think Nat could represent another one of Neptune’s siblings too, Juno the Goddess of marriage.

[piratefern]

that's was Long and great explanation you can actually wrote a wattpad book of it! And I actually like the storyline it's really great and really felt bad for scp 049 :( honestly it was too much for poor birdie TvT

And yea why bother! I will like to read scp 035 one too ☆(≧∀≦*)ﾉ Thanks for taking my questions ( ˘ ³˘)♥

YIIPPEEEEE, thankyou so much :’D

alright with dyo, we’ll need some context too, in the sense that you will need to be aware of the original lore for Alagadda so id recommend reading the wiki if you haven’t already)

(Another note is that my version of Alagadda’s time doesn’t work linearly, so in this sense, it is entirely possible to enter alagadda during any time it exists, and exit to earth in a different era than when you left. It explains how the culture is affected by different eras in time, and this will be also important narratively!)

(He is originally from Alagadda as per the usual lore, except in my au he wasn’t banished to earth, and instead took refuge there, fleeing execution from the ambassador and other lords.)

In my au, dyo has a toxic sibling relationship with the other lords, ontop of this he’s also the shortest and the runtiest of the few and so was picked on, which lines him up to becoming the hanged king’s favourite as he was the easiest to manipulate.

Originally working as the jester for his king he is killed by a peasant uprising (as per the original lore) and is brought back to life three days later, offering his king a cup filled with the blood of his enemies gifted by the brothers death.

The lore follows the original story line from here in which he invites a bird like doctor to the palace to cure him of his influence of the hanged king (remember how time in alagadda isn’t linear? Yep, thats hasel! He finds a broken passage to alagadda after the point in which he has left dyo and just before the foundation finds him. He researches it and fixes it, hoping to find the “cure” for the vine on the other side)

Hasel doesn’t recognise dyo’s old form as the black lord and dyo at this point is yet to even meet hasel, and so neither of the two realise that they were intwined from the beginning.

after being cured by hasel and attempting to fight the influence of the hanged king, his execution is plotted against him by the other lords and the ambassador, and so, he escapes to earth.

yet, in my au the lords and the ambassador are still after dyo, but are unaware of his ware-abouts, Dyo destroys the portal which in turn wipes his entire memory, hoping that it will never be rebuilt again.

But didn’t hasel rebuild the portal? Uh oh! He did! Meaning he had unintentionally both freed and doomed his lover. Not only that, but the foundation had been tracking the signal that the portal had been omitting, causing the capture of both the portal and hasel! And, of course, the foundation would absolutely never destroy it!

On another note, sometimes memories of Alagadda will seep through the cracks, instances from the past that dyo forged reflect memories from his childhood and experiences in Alagadda.

Dyo landed in ancient Greece, and genuinely believes he is from there. He believes that he was a balatro (roman jester) for the king, and was fused to his mask by the ancient Greek gods as a punishment for stealing the golden wreath from the king of Rome.

However, it is evident that this story isn’t true, at the time Rome had a consul system not a king, and despite the fact Rome had capitulated Greece they didn’t share the same gods despite their similarities.

He makes his way through life, but aware of his immortality he drowns himself in alcohol and lavish parties. He doesn’t get close to anyone as he knows that they will one day die and that he will not, causing him to build bad behaviours, appear overtly cocky and confident, a tendency to avoid rejection as a side effect and a need to convince himself that everything is alright.

So! Imagine dyo, an immortal being, avoiding close relationships with anyone he meets and putting up a persona to avoid anyone liking him, finding another immortal being!I

He grows incredibly attached to hasel, for the first time in almost two millennia he doesn’t have to be alone anymore, he can finally learn how to open himself up and build on his issues and break down his persona.

But this causes abandonment and attachment issues, so you can imagine how he must have reacted when hasel leaves!

He can’t handle this, and embarks on a journey to find him again, this journey spanning over a century from WW1 to present day, in which he is also captured by the foundation and placed in the same facility as hasel… and the portal!

They are given their numbered codes 035 and 049, but with dyo being so close to the fixed portal he gradually begins to remember his past…

So yeah thats all im up to so far :3

i haven’t written anything past the foundation and the portal plot, but technically in the original draft i made with my partner a couple years back they escape with the help of Laurence (106). They learn to mend their broken relationship and also learn how to get along with laurence despite his creepiness, but that part is all old stuff so i might rewrite it. But the fact hasel leaves at WW1 was important, as this is around the time Laurence becomes anomalous, so it ties their stories in too :3

[marsprincess889]

NAKSHATRAS AS GODDESSES

2/27

👄🥀BHARANI🛶

DISCLAIMER: This is based solely on my research and the patterns that I saw. I can't promise that I'm gonna be sure in all the coorelations, but I'm going to attribute each nakshatra a goddess that I think fits it the closest. If you're dissapointed, to make up for it, I'm going to list some other deities in the end that I think also fit the nakshatra. Don't come for me if you think I'm wrong, be respectful in the comments if you think so and have fun 🤍

For Bharani I chose a goddess that I love personally and while I definitely see her connection to Bharani, I still hesistated when putting her here. Not much research was needed while writing as I had already researched almost everything that I could find about her and knew tons. Without further ado, let's start.

Freya

Pantheon: Norse

Name meaning: Lady, mistress

Associations: Love, sexuality, beauty, fate, death, war, magic, cats, gold and amber.

Symbols: Cats, swines, falcons, amber and gold, daisies, swords, romantic music, strawberries, aurora borealis(northern lights)

Freya is a strong, powerful Norse goddess of love, sex, war and death. She has a chariot pulled by gray cats, a loyal boar_ Hildisvíni, that she rides on when in battle, a cloak made of falcon feathers that allows her to shapeshift and the most beautiful piece of jewelry in the world: her necklace Brisingamen.

Her brother is Freyr (lord), god of fertility, agriculture and male virility. Her family comes from the tribe of gods called the Vanir. They're peaceful gods, connected to all civilised earthly matters. The other tribe- Aesir, are said to live in Asgard, away from them. A war broke out between the two tribes. Eventually, a peace negotiation was settled: Freya and Freyr would go to the Aesir as a gesture and would live with them. Despite being Vanir, Freya is debatably the highest standing Norse goddess, comparable in power only to Frigg- the queen of the gods. Some sources say that she taught the Aesir the magical art of seidr, the act of seeing and influencing the future.

Unfortunately, there are not many sources available that would desctibe Freya in greater detail, and this is true for all norse gods. Despite this, some key details about her have been preserved, enough for me to coorelate her to Bharani.

Despite being a love goddess and having a husband, she's very independent, having an iron will and being particular about her preferences. Like the Greek Aphrodite and Roman Venus, her origins are associated with the sea, but in a different way. She's not born from sea, but her father is the god of the sea, oceans and commerce- Njord. Despite this venus associations, she's also a maiden goddess (not unlike Persephone) associated with death and war.

It is known that viking warriors who died in battle had the privillege of entering Valhalla- a kind of heaven presided over by Odin, the chief Norse god. While that's true for half of the warriors, the other half went with Freya in Fólkvangr, where lies her hall- Sessrúmnir. Moreover, it was Freya who had the first pick, Odin had to be content being second.

Her husband, Odr, was frequently away. Missing him, she would cry tears that would turn gold when falling on the ground, and amber if they fell into the sea. She loved her husband, but also had untamed sexuality that was notorious. It was rare in those times as a woman to express yourself sexually and to do so with so much passion and courage, so, it's no wonder why this goddess survived as an important figure for many women.

There's a myth about Freya and her desire being so strong, it causing her pain. The desire was for a necklace made by the dwarves. It was of gold and amber and immidiately captivated her. She went to acquire it but the only price the dwarves would offer was her spending one night with each of them. Feeling like she had no choice, Freya agreed. When her husband found out about her betrayal, he left her and went to the sea. Freya cried and cried but he was nowhere to be seen. After some time, she learned he that he turned into a sea monster and went to him, still loving him unconditionally. Somebody saw the monster and killed Odr, not knowing it was him. Furious, Freya demanded a place for him with the Gods, so they could be together and she got her permit, so that they were reunited in the end.

Freya's names and epithets: Gefn (the giver), Hörn (flaxen_reference to her hair), Mardöll (sea shaker), Sýr (sow), Valfreyja (lady of the slain).

If you read my post about Bharani, it should not be a surprise that I coorelated Freya to this nakshatra. She rules over love, sex and death, all things Bharani. When reading about Freya and Freyr being twins, Yama (Bharani's god) and his twin sister_ Yami came to mind, especially considering that Yami was said to be free and unrestrained, just like Freya. This is also true for real life Bharani natives, because Bharani is a natural place for females, women tend to find themselves comfortable in these energies while males act restrained.

Freya's desire for her necklace and it causing her problems is also very Bharani, as explored in my Bharani post. The theme of her crying because of her love and ultimately love conquering everything is also closely connected to this nakshatra.

I also avoided choosing either Aphrodite or Persephone, because they're so polarized from each other. I do think Bharani is more Persephone, but I don't think that either of them represent Bharani completely. I see Bharani as having traits of both: Ruling over love/ sexuality but also being a maiden. Freya seemed perfect. I debated whether she was better suited for Purva Phalguni or not, but the death association made Bharani the better choice.

I'm well aware that some people think that she and Frigg are the same Goddess and they're definitely similar and there's a great possibility that they originated from the same goddess. I really don't think they're the same though. To me Freya is fire, Frigg is ice, Freya's the mistress, Frigg is the wife. Freya is the maiden, Frigg is the mother, and so on...

Deities that I attribute to Bharani other than Freya:

Persephone- Greek goddess of vegetation, spring and the underworld, "Queen of the Dead"

Bhairavi- Indian goddess, "awe-inspiring" "formidable".

Hel- Norse goddess of the dead, who's half dead, half a beautiful young girl

Inanna- Sumerian goddess very similar to Freya. Also a love/sexuality goddess and also a maiden. "Queen of the Heaven", she also decended into the underworld.

Gwenhwyfar- Queen Guinevere, Welsh goddess of sovereignity and the Earth, representing the land itself. (This one I hesitated to put but the vibes are matching, to me at least).

EDIT: So, obviously, Hades, Pluto or whatever god of death any culture has is also coorelated to Bharani, ig I forgot about them cause Bharani is so female-centered lol.

So that's it! I hope fellow Bharanis and everyone else found this entertaining and insightful. You're welcome to research all these goddesses if you wish and let me know if u think I'm right. Being my moon nakshatra, Bharani was extra pressure, but what's done is done. LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS, PLEASE 🤍