#Mass Luciano

[4lenko]

LUCIANO POSTED ON HIS INSTA FOR N7 DAY HELLO??? MY ASS MOVED WHAT THE FUCK 😭😭😭

[canonqueercharacters]

The canon queer character of the day is:

Kaidan Alenko from the Mass Effect series, who is bisexual.

[transgaledekarios]

Thinking again about how James’ nickname for Ever is Sunny. And it’s corny and adorable and starts off silly and a way to make them smile/laugh. But over time, as his feelings get a bit more real, it becomes genuine. Their smile really does light up their face, he feels its warmth in his chest, and can’t help but smile back.

And then add even more time that nickname becomes Luz, mi luz, the light of my life, and it’s unbearably corny and sweet, and it makes them smile in that almost-shy way. Which is wild because they’re not at all shy, but they’ve never been loved before, truly loved, and it makes them soft and hesitant in a way they’ve never been before. Their hands which have brought so much violence into the world, feel soft and gentle in his. He’s safe waters, a warm, sunny day, gently lapping waves, inviting and soothing. Augh one day I will finish this fic

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

Hello! Can you please write about the 2p Axis (btw I especially love your writings about 2p Italy and 2p Romano! Love, love,love!) about the darling ask of the escaped and vanished for about a year and then one day they see them out in public ? Please and thank you for all that you write, it makes my day better ,always.

I don’t think I can iterate how thankful I am for how patient you guys are when you get your asks done.

The popping of colorful, confetti from their paper cannons and the cheers of a crowd full of delight rang out like the happy howls of a wolf pack.

Their loud songs of joy were directed toward the mayor’s marble balcony as he marched to the end of the platform. He looked down at them with a stressed smile as he welcomed them all to the summer celebration while sweeping his large arm to open the holiday event for everyone.

As the crowd thinned, with people moving about to start various activities, the mayor shivered. The dark glare burning into his back forced him to face the shadow that awaited in his office.

With the speed of a child knowing of an incoming scolding, he nervously shuffled into the dim room. His eyes were downcast as he looked at the feet of the sleep-deprived man, slouched on his navy couch.

“The festival’s begun.” The mayor licked his lips. “Is there anything else that you need to observe?”

The man spoke a simple “No.” as he slowly raised himself from the couch. His steps were heavy as he dragged himself to the blind-covered window. His cold hand pulled on the flimsy panel as his eyes slowly moved through the crowd.

The mayor’s continued cowering and questioning went ignored when familiar (H/C) locks flittered through the masses.

Locked on the locks his eyes followed them like a road map to gaze upon her face.

She looked so familiar, with the same faint scars and quirky grin. Yet, he noticed something new, the light in her (E/C) eyes that was once dimmed to mere dying embers had returned to their blaze. Instead of the fearful shuffle, there was a pep in skip that reminded him of the first time they met. 

He couldn't deny the rising hope at the sight of his long-lost wife. It felt like seeing the sun for first the time in a year, and yet a dark cloud quickly covered it. Reminding him of what had occurred almost a year ago to the day.

His darling wife had deserted him. Destroyed their happy home by slipping him a fatal concoction of medications, before slithering off into the night. Disappearing from his life, leaving nothing to hint at current her existence, until now.

Today, he thought, would change that. Today, she would be coming home whether she wanted to or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Italy: The Mafia Don never lost sight (Y/N)’s form, even as she began to blend back into the crowd.

The moment his eyes could no longer track her form, his hand dug into his pocket. The force that he used to pull a phone from its cloth confinements popped the seams of the pocket as he activated the device.

Two simple beeps before he held the silver phone to his ear. He waited with an intense focus on the crowds, searching for his wife again before a deep voice rumbled.

“Si, Don Vargas?”

There was no hesitation from the still-scanning leader as he gave his order. “My-a wife’s here at the-a summer festival. Find her.”

A simple ‘si’ came from the underling as he hung up the phone. A near-silent whimper made the magenta-eyed Italian turn to the trembling mayor.

He smirked as he pulled a knife from his brown suit and lifted the blade toward the coward. “If you-a value your-a short existence, you’ll say a-nothing.”

The mayor’s sweat-covered face bowed in a submissive nod before Luciano Vargas walked out. Leaving the mayor in the darkness and summer heat.

While Luciano’s men searched from the back alleys and dark corners, he walked more forward among the civilians. His pace was quick as he ducked and weaved.

Hours ticked by in the hot sun, and his stride never faltered even as his phone rang. The words that greeted him upon its answer, did make him stop. In fact, it made him smile like a crocodile that cornered squirming prey.

“Boss, we’ve got her.”

Luciano’s men hadn’t failed him. After last time, with the vivid memories of Medieval levels of torture and Pollock type of red mess, they refused to.

The confirmation of his darling wife’s capture, Luciano slipped away through the happy crowds. Allowing the alleys and shadows to guide him back to his car.

The drive was short as he sped over all limits and it screeched to a halt at the manor's stairs. 

Sauntering his way up through the oak doors and the large halls of the mansion, his men above breathed a small sigh of relief at their master's joy.

It was only a few turns along the marble corridor before he stepped down the stairs toward the dark, medieval basement. 

The Roman torches from long-forgotten eras cast long shadows along the iron cells. Each prisoner within attempted to hide when the Don walked by.

He paid no mind to the heavy chains shaking as walked to the heavy, iron door at the hall's end. It screeched open as he pushed against it.

The opening revealed a small, dark cell; furnished with only wall-mounted chains, a large pile of pillows, and a woman sitting upon it cuffed at the neck.

Luciano smiled wide as he reached up and pulled on the cord for the single lightbulb. He watched with joy as she flinched away upon its suddenness. Then trembling as she realized who stood in front of her. 

He stepped closer. A large smile on his face as grabbed the struggling woman's face. Dragging her toward him and tilted her head to the left as he whispered.

"Welcome back, mia Moglie." Luciano licked the shell of her ear before pulling back to look her in the eye. "I've missed you. Did you miss-a me?"

(Y/N) didn't answer, quietly shivering in his hold. Tears bubbled as Luciano's grin became feral.

"Because I'm all you have left."

Romano: (Y/N)’s body trudged forward with the unseen weight of exhaustion that comes from a day of excitement. Her lone footsteps were the only sound on the lamp-lit street that was still littered from the confetti released that morning.

She sighed heavily, but happily as she turned the final corner that would lead to the last leg of her journey.

Usually rounding the turn filled her steps with enough pep to skip her way home like a fairy tale bunny, this time however, she shuffled like a nervous horse stopped by an ashen rattler.

That serpent was no living thing, but a white limo with the nearest door opened like a snake’s jaw. Its light seeped out like venom from a bite, cascading along the sidewalk and highlighting her shoes.

Despite the shine, she could only see the shadows of a man within. His nice, white suit contradicted the black interior of the vehicle as his leg bounced. Whether it was excitement or nervousness she didn’t want to know.

Gulping, (Y/N) moved off the sidewalk to give the long automobile a wide berth.

As her path aligned with the open door, a sudden push came from her right. Shoved her into the door before being pulled into the limo that was now slammed shut.

The wheels screamed as the force caused her to crash into the man’s legs. Clutching onto them for some form of stability as the limo swerved.

Gentle fingers ran through her hair in a futile attempt to calm her down, but it only made her heart pound harder as (Y/N) finally looked at the mysterious stranger.

Her throat tightened as tears blurred her vision of the smiling Fabrizio. It wasn’t the loving smile he gave when he thought she had been broken. No, this one contained the traces of madness, obsession, and relief.

Like a spooked cat, she prepared to jump away, ready to duck and roll on the fast-passing terrain, but the hand tightened on her hair pulling her back to his feet.

“Now, now Bambola.” She flinched when he placed his silver stiletto against her neck. “You wouldn’t want-a make it worse when we get home, right?”

Germany: Like an old hound after a young vixen, Luther walked out of the office. Ignoring the mayor’s whimpering calls.

 His steps were quiet, yet quick as he slunk his way out of the City’s Hall. Into the streets, blending in with the crowds while his eyes searched for flickers of her clothing.

For moments, Luther felt that he was being led in circles. That his mind had played the cruelest of jokes as various flickers took him to multitudes of dead ends.

As the summer sun descended from its peak, the crowds thinned.

The lessened numbers brought out quiet conversations. One that made the German freeze.

The main voice was familiar, sounding like a lullaby that one’s mother no longer sang.

He followed like a bloodhound after a criminal. Its trail brought him to a small café with black wire seats under a cream-colored awning.

In the darkest corner were two women. The one to the right quickly faded into the shadows. The left one, his missing piece, was at first glance, like the warm blaze that welcomed heroes home from their quest.

Part of Luther wanted to embrace the blaze. Take in all the burns that would allow him to reunite with his heart. The other wanted to smother her. Place (Y/N) back into her hearth to prevent another wildfire like the one that gave her the chance to escape. To harness her passion to warm him alone.

Slinking toward the café, Luther went unnoticed in the dark as he entered the alley to the building’s right.

He watched with aid from a streetlamp as the women parted, hugging before they waved going their separate ways.

Luckily, Luther’s alley ran along (Y/N)’s route, allowing him to follow her like a shadow at sunset.  

Eventually, the sparsely filled streets became empty. 

Luther moved further ahead. Waiting at the next opening, back pressed against the near brick wall.

He held his breath as her footsteps approached.

At the same moment, his lamp-lit angel began her cross, his hands shot out. Grabbing (Y/N) and drugged her to his chest. His gun clicked as he lifted it from his waistband, muzzle pushed onto her temple.

Tears began to pour as she trembled in his hold. Small pleas for freedom and attempts at deals to prevent a return to their home fumbled from her mouth.

Luther heeded none of it.

Instead, he led her away. Far from the summer sun. Forcing her back into the damaged, cold hearth he called home.

Japan: As (Y/N) swam among the flood of sweat-covered people, a cold shiver vibrated her spine. The type that whispered the warning of danger to our ancestors on open grasslands. That gave way to the primal urge to hide from bloodthirsty beasts.

Yet, as her head snapped left, then right. Nothing stuck out. No one staring from amongst the crowds, no aggressive shoving, or screams of terror.

Swallowing her fear, (Y/N) shrugged off the feeling before jogging to the meeting point of all her friends. Trusting that the demon, who had claimed her as a wife, was nowhere near.

Not once did the feeling return as (Y/N) went about the festivities with friends. As the hours passed, she had long forgotten it ever occurred.

Even as she separated from the herd to return home, she felt relaxed. Safe, even as she moved through the empty, evening streets, but as she climbed the stairwell through her dark, apartment building that same shiver crept up her spine like a million, skittering centipedes.

Despite her glances showing nothing abnormal, the dark corners and shadows of the grey stairwell offered no relief with their shifting shadows. Instead, they seemed to reach out with long claws that caused her heart to race.

A door from the floor below slamming sent her running.

Up the stairs, she flew. Her arm acted as a balance as she swung the corner entrance to her floor. Panting, she leaned against her door as she struggled against her keys. Pushing them against the metal lock until the right one clicked in before a harsh turn allowed her to fall into her home. A simple kick, shut her own door as she scrambled away from it.

(Y/N)’s terrified clamber had become frozen mid-movement. She had hit something that did not exist within her dark entryway. It was warm and tall. Covered in loose-fitting cloth that felt of rough cotton. Her left hand moved backward and slowly slid across the smooth leather of military boots.

“Hime” At that simple pet name the tremors returned in full force. Tears collected on her lashes as she felt a gloved hand rake its way through her hair. With a little force, the hand angled her head upward.

Above her was the man she feared most. Kurai Honda.

 As she opened her mouth to scream, he covered it with a tight hand.

(Y/N) struggled against him. Flailing her arms and kicking at his arms. Kurai acted as though he felt nothing. Maneuvering (Y/N) like a doll into a choke hold and suffocating her.

As the dark spots crossed her vision, she heard him whisper.

“When you awake, our honor will be restored.”

Spain: Armando’s typically stoic face twitched for a moment before stretching into a mischievous grin.

A smile so sinister that the mayor’s teeth chattered as he backed away from the Spaniard. His spine shook as he cursed the hip bump that knocked the glass cup off the desk, it shattered upon impact with the wooden floor.

Like a predator mid-hunt, Armando’s head snapped toward the noise. His smile never waned as he stared.

“My apologize, Señor Mayor. But we will have to finish this discussion another day.”

The monster of a man turned on his heel, losing his smile as the mayor trembled with a prayer on his lips for the new target.

 The Spaniard’s loose-fitting shirt fluttered as he walked quickly through the administrative building, it whooshed backward as he stepped into the humid, summer air.

His eyes scanned the crowds once more from the marble steps. Another flick of (H/C) locks disappeared between the people at the market row.

Instead of forcing his way through the crowded streets, Armando sped his way along the edges. Cutting through the alleys like they were foxholes.

Immediately, he caught up. Watching his wife, like a lion prowling through tall grass.

She had changed so much, growing out her hair and wearing (F/C) jewelry. Yet, he noted upon closer examination her voice hadn't changed. It still sounded like his favorite lullaby.

Armando’s smile returned as she wandered closer. Leaving the sweet stand with a simple baggie in hand.

He stepped out, jogged to her side, and grabbed her hand in a constricting grip.

Before (Y/N) could scream, he hugged her tightly. Pressing her squirming form into his chest, before leaning down to whisper in her ear.

“Continue the fight and everyone will think you’re mad.”

For a moment, (Y/N) stilled. Armando could see her eyes were wide as he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.

But that moment of peace didn’t last as her struggle returned. (Y/N) pushed and clawed at the Spainard like a fractious cat, yowling for help. Begging for someone to get her away from the madman.

He tchhed as the crowd formed a circle, tightening his grip on his woman before lifting her over his shoulder. Seemingly unaffected by her screams, Armando yelled over her, requesting the enforcers of the law appear as well.

Shocked, (Y/N) stopped mid-wail. Scrambling to figure out why he would demand to speak with the ones that would save her. Never once believed his warning.

It only took a minute for two black-clad uniformed policemen to shove their way to the front. Their gruff faces were marred by the annoyance of an easy shift gone wrong.

“What’s going on.” Questioned the taller of the partners. His eyes were sharp as they bounced between Armando and (Y/N).

“He’s trying to kidnap me!” (Y/N) shouted and attempted to fight. “Get me away from this freak!”

At her statement, the duo’s hands dropped to their holsters. Fingers grazed the leather-like excited hunting dogs on a thin tether. One wrong move and all hell would break loose.

The shorter of the duo lifted an open scarred, palm toward Armando. “Señor. Put her down.”

He complied but didn’t let go. Instead holding tightly to her hips with one arm as she squirmed. The other reached into his shirt to remove a letter, somehow maintaining its blinding whiteness while being pressed against his olive skin.

(Y/N) stared at the letter, while he made a silent gesture to the cops.

They approached and the taller took it from his hand. Opening it with a quick rip before scanning its contents.

The crowd remained silent as the shorter was then handed the letter. He read it much quicker, biting his lip before nodding to the first with pity in his eyes.

“Do you need any help getting her home Señor?”

(Y/N)’s jaw dropped as she looked between the three men. “What are you TWO DOING!? HELP ME!”

The taller policeman turned to her with sad eyes as he sighed. “Señora,” He nodded toward Armando. “Your husband just wants to take you home.”

“He’s not my husband!” (Y/N) insisted as she leaned down to rake the inside of Armando’s thigh with sharp nails, causing him to hiss and release her.

“Señora, you are ill. Let us help you.”

“Ma’am calm down.”

(Y/N) backed up panting as everyone approached. Citizens throwing in their voices, begging her to stop. Men stepped into the circle to help corral her.

As her head moved on a swivel, she noticed his dark grin. The smile never faded as the strangers held her down like wolves to prey. Presenting her toward their Alpha. Feeding her flesh to the beast she had tried to escape.

Never to be seen nor believed by anyone again.

Austria: His joy could not be contained as loud, frenzied laughter left him like a busted damn. Its power caused the monstrous nation to lean against the window as tears beaded and dripped down his ivory face.

As his guffaw slowed to silence, the room chilled chasing away any lingering summer heat. The darkest shadows shifted as they stretched themselves toward their master. Whipping like thin tentacles like cat tails as they curled around Jonathan. 

Their curling slowly turned into climbing as they pulled him downward like warped quicksand.

There was no fear from the Austrian as he looked to the terrified mayor. His serrated smile was wide as he called the government official before disappearing into the ink.

“Keep jour end of the deal, and jour family vill be zpared.”

The shadows fell away, revealing an upside-down office to Jonathan. A thump drew his attention to his feet, where he watched the mayor tremble before collapsing.

“Mortalz.” He chuckled before pulling out his umbrella from his jacket and bolting out of the office.

The change in orientation didn’t seem to affect him as the empty halls and streets aided him in his hunt.

As Jonathan approached the last location of his beloved queen, his carmine eyes returned to the ground. Quickly his vision bounced from person to person under him, scanning for the familiar (H/C) and (E/C).

 The dense crowd on the other side of the dimensional plane created a dizzying rainbow of features and colors that just weren’t right. It felt like hours for Jonathan as he worked through them, street by street and stall by stall.

The melodious sound of a guitar that was accompanied by the tender vocals froze him. He took in the words; broken love, unfair capture, and a promise to never allow love, created seismic shivers that rivaled earthquakes down his spine.

Only one bat could sing such a divine tale.

(Y/N).

Toward the town center, he sprinted. Kicking up dirt as he slides to a stop at a stage at the town center.

Mere feet from him stood his Angel of Music. Singing the songs, he had once thought he would never hear again. A healthy glow had returned to her sunken skin and a brightness in her movements that had existed at their first meeting.

Jonathan licked his lips as his mind concocted the perfect reunion. He prowled toward the stage and climbed down to the lights at the top.

He lined himself up so perfectly that a single jump would flatten her.

Jonathan crouched, hanging his umbrella off a single light, wiggling like a stalking cat. Allowing his muscles to tense like a coiled clock spring.

He jumped. Launching himself upward. The shadows opened, allowing him out.

He tackled (Y/N) mid-song. A gasp choked in her throat as they both tumbled back into the shadows.

(Y/N)’s fight did nothing as he kept her trapped in his arms. The sounds of hysteria from the world above were muted as he nuzzled into her back. Enjoying the warmth of her flesh.

The sickly groaning was ignored as Jonathan muttered a welcome home. Promising that this time they would be together until their final song was sung.

Prussia: Wilhem’s movements were stiff as the blinds snapped back to their original tension. His pale hand slowly dropped to his side as he turned toward the mayor.

The icy stoicism caused the low government official to shuffle in place like a nervous gelding. Rubbing his arm, the mayor spoke to the cold knight.

“Iz there anyzing elze jour bruder needs, Herr. Beilschmidt?”

“Nein, jou preformed az expected.”

With a simple nod in farewell, Wilhelm turned to leave the office.

The mayor, on the other hand, prayed that they wouldn’t meet again until next year.

For many the festival ended too quickly as the sun set and the streetlamps lit up like fireflies in a field. Vendors closed their stalls with a mix of clicks and tings as merchandise was packed away and doors were locked.

Soon enough, only a small group of young adults were left on the streets. Their laughter echoed like drunk parrots as they pushed against each other in youthful fun.

The loudest of them was (Y/N), her smile wide as she ducked and weaved between the members like in an impromptu game of tag. Jogging in place she watched them fumble in their reaches.

The gaggle unleashed a riotous roaring as (Y/N)’s jogging became teasing gestures. Peals of laughter bloomed as she danced along the street edge, allowing the crowd to convince her to create grander displays.

Panting with excitement, she failed to disappoint as the center of the empty road became her stage. Jokes and burns were shot off in rapid fire while she moved in swift excitement.

Just before the euphoria could reach its peak, a loud whinny silenced it.

Everyone looked to the source. Shocked gasps were heard at the sight of a large, grey and white horse. Upon its back was a man dressed in dark armor, his face hidden behind an enclosed helmet.

The mysterious being forced the horse to rear back. Its dark hooves waved in the air, the shoes catching the light like lightning before crashing down like thunder. Sparks flew as it galloped down the road.

(Y/N)’s friends called for her to move. Screamed for her to run to either sidewalk.

She couldn’t. Something about the knight had frozen her stiff.

As the thunderous hooves encroached her mind wondered why. Was it the feeling of familiarity with the entity? The way his hidden gaze seemed to command her to remain put like the monster she had killed or was it because apart of her believed that this knight was his ghost? Coming to drag her to his grave. To forcefully bury her beside the man she detested most of all. Combining their souls as one for all eternity.

The horse was five feet away when ancient instinct overrode the fear. She attempted to dive at her friends. Arms stretched out toward them. But she never connected. Never felt the touch of those who helped lift her out of the darkness.

Rough hands tugged her away. Throwing her across his lap as his steed sped off. (Y/N)’s screams disappearing into the darkness.

For hours (Y/N)’s friends and the authorities searched the city. Neither the hide nor hair of the beasts or the woman was found.

Some of the cops whispered about the Ghost of Order. Blaming his centuries of loneliness on why the woman was taken. Others were quick to silence that speak around (Y/N)’s worried friends.

It was a shame that no one knew how right they all had been. Except for (Y/N). For the ghost had been the man she once killed and had pushed her back into their shared crypt. Only this time, should one of them die then they both shall perish.  

[sorvete-de-pacoca]

Prompt! Port used to be more muscular, but lost muscle mass when he lost his empire.

One day, Luciano catches him glancing at his muscular chest with a weird expression. He asks him what he's looking at, but Afonso smiles and shakes it's head.

"It's nothing," Afonso says.

But after that, Luciano sees Afonso watching sadly at his reflection in the mirror.

Kai you accidentally touched a headcanon that I'm very soft about. The tans dealing with the changes on their bodies causes by time 😭.

Afonso still looks young but he's now less muscular and even has a bit of chub. Luciano is surprised that he also feels insecure about his body (Luciano still got muscles but they're less defined. He doesn't feel like a boy anymore) He thought those things were trivial for Afonso.

"hey, you look good." He says to him.

"I look weak" Afonso replies.

"what?! No way! You still know how to fight!"

"Antonio still kept his size."

"Tonio got a dad body. Look, if you want I can help you get some muscles back. I used to help training some of my players y'know?"

Afonso shake his head. Even if he did it wouldn't look like in the past.

"it's alright" Luciano sighs "I... Kinda of understand. I've been looking so old lately"

"you?!" Afonso turns to him incredulous "you're still 500!"

"I'm already 500! I'm afraid I will look like a raisin when I reach 800"

"I'm 800, do I look like a raisin to you!"

"No!"

"then stop thinking like that! "

"You first!" Luciano say.

"get out and let me mop in peace!" Afonso says annoyed. Luciano huffs and walks away, he says when he's at the door "we starting CrossFit tomorrow!"

"No!"

"you don't have a choice!"

"foda-se!"

[pilalaguna]

Don Felizardo de Rivera, Founder of Pila

Don Felizardo de Rivera y Evangelista (1755-1810) was the eldest of the three Rivera brothers, Don Felizardo, Don Miguel and Don Rafael. They were the owners of the estate Hacienda de Sta. Clara. They were the sons of Don Juan de Rivera, who had inherited the estate from the Spanish noble family, the Thenorios, and passed it on to his sons.

In the 18th century, due to flooding from its original location near the Laguna de Bay, the original town of Pila and its Church needed to be located to higher ground. So the Riveras planned to move it, just like their ancestor the Datu of Pila, Datu Maguinto, did in the 13th century.

However, a long, heated and controversial dispute rose between two prominent families at the time: The Riveras and the Relovas ("Pros" and "Antis". Don Regino Relova y San Antonio wanted the relocation on his land. Don Felizardo Rivera insisted that the town and church be moved to his hacienda in Sta. Clara.

Don Felizardo won after a long battle (starting October 14, 1794 and ending on July 13, 1803) after made an agreement with the parish priest: If the church was relocated to his estate, he pledged "the spiritual and material support of the Riveras to the church of St. Anthony in perpetuum up to the last of their line." The parish priest agreed.

Don Felizardo donated his lands to the church and to the municipal government but he also retained ownership of the lots surrounding what was to be the town plaza. He became the architect of the town's design, following Spanish colonial layout. He even built a kiln for manufacturing bricks and tiles for rebuilding the church, which was "transferred stone by stone" from its old location. The the ancestral houses were built around the plaza and the town municipio (municipal hall) was built opposite the church. With the assistance of the prominent families of Oca, Ruiz, and de Castro, he rebuilt the town of Pila ("Nuevo Pila") as it is to this day.

Don Felizardo served as gobernadorcillo in 1805, 1807, and 1809. He died on October 13, 1810 at the age of 55. He asked that "he be robed in the Franciscan habit upon his death and that a funeral mass be celebrated with him facing the altar of the newly-built church prior to his burial in the church crypt." His will (currently in the possession of the Rivera Family) was notarized by the town mayor at the time. At the time of his death, both pros and antis came to pay their respects and drop the long feud (the families later intermarried.) Don Felizardo's son Jose de Rivera later took over the gobernadorcillo post in 1811.

Don Felizardo de Rivera is the recognized founder of (Nuevo Pila) present-day Pila, Laguna, and the ancestor of the four main prominent families in Pila: Rivera, Relova, Agra and Alava.

WHEN A TOWN HAS TO MOVE: HOW PILA (LAGUNA) TRANSFERRED TO ITS PRESENT SITE (1794-1811) Luciano P.R. Santiago Philippine Quarterly of Culture and Society, Vol. 11, No. 2/3 (June/September 1983), pp. 93-106 (14 pages) https://www.jstor.org/stable/29791789

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During the 16th and 17th centuries, one of the earliest known leaders of Pila under Spanish Colonial Period was Don Antonio Maglilo (1696-1712), who governed Pila like his father Don Francisco Maglilo (1599), (Santiago, Ancient Pila, pg 11), the descendant of datu Maguinto.

In 1728, Don Maglilo’s descendant, Don Juan de Rivera, the founder of one of Pila’s most prominent families, the Rivera clan, became mayor of Pila. The Rivera’s were a “major branch of the Maglilo(s)” and changed their surname to “Rivera”, the “Taga-ilog”, or “People of the River”. (Santiago, Ancient Pila, pg 17).

Don Juan de Rivera married Doña Josepha Thenorio, who descended from Spanish nobility from Extremadura, Spain. The Thenorio family matriarch was Doña Maria Cortés de Monroy, the sister of Spanish Conquistador Hernán Cortés (1485-1547). (Santiago, Ancient Pila, pg 16). (Writer’s Note: Cortes had relations and a child with the Aztec princess Doña Isabel Moctezuma (born Tecuichpoch Ixcaxochitzin; 1509/1510 – 1550/1551), a daughter of the Aztec ruler Moctezuma II, and Cortes’s sister Doña Maria’s descendants married the descendants of a Philippine Pre-Hispanic king.)

Don Juan's descendant, Don Felizardo de Rivera (1755-1810), was at first a town executive from 1792 to 1793. He was governor of Pila in 1792. During the town move, he had drawn up grid plans (Cuadricula) in 1790 for the new site (where Pila was to be moved) based on the classical Spanish system of 'church-plaza-town hall complex' as originally prescribed by the 'Laws of the Indies (1573)' (laws issued by the Spanish Crown for town planning). He had become a self-taught architect. When the transfer was officially sanctioned (approved), he implemented his plans by serving as gobernadorcillo (governor) in 1805, 1807, and 1809 (he died in 1810). Because of his orderly design (of the town), Don Felizardo is considered the founder of 'Nuevo Pila (New Pila).' Don Felizardo retained all the residential lots around the rectangular plaza between the church and the town hall for the ancestral houses. The principal street is christened 'Rivera', which connects (the town) 'like a long umbilical cord' (back to) Pagalangan. (Santiago, Ancient Pila, pg 25). All the lots around the town plaza were given by Don Felizardo to his heirs, and the ancestral houses now stand on those lots.

Pila was moved again due to flooding from the lake, to Don Felizardo’s Hacienda in Santa Clara, Laguna. (Santiago, The Roots of Pila, Laguna, pgs 9, 10). On May 20, 1804, Pila Church was also moved to land at the hacienda. (Santiago, The Roots of Pila, Laguna, pgs 10, 11, 13) Today, the 200-plus year-old church is now called the San Antonio de Padua church, which was declared the National Shrine of San Antonio de Padua, contains a relic of the saint and is one of the oldest churches in the Philippines. The ruins of the original church are still standing at Pagalangan and have a historical marker as the site of the original church of Pila.

Don Felizardo is considered the founder of the present-day town of "Nueva Pila" ("New Pila") and the town’s designer and architect in the Spanish colonial grid style of city planning. (Santiago, The Roots of Pila, Laguna, pg 12). The Pila Municipal Hall was later built in June 1931, across from the Church, on land previously owned by Doña Corazon Rivera de Del Mundo, daughter of Don Luis Rivera. (Santiago, The Roots of Pila, Laguna, pg 20).

In his 1810 Last Will and Testament, Don Felizardo identifies himself as “Taong Tunai at Maguinoo” (a true maginoo). The document is with the Rivera family of Pila, Laguna.

[zu-art]

Hi Zu! I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you have hc about Luciano when he hit puberty? Was he a late or early bloomer?

Hey Kai!! Lemme think about this one :D;;

Ok I never gave puberty much thought, but i do think Luciano was a skinny hyperactive kid, not necessarily small but shorter than the others, and then... I wouldn't say he was an early or late bloomer, I think he was pretty average??

Physically he never had much body hair but he did grow a lot of muscle mass in his teens (he also grew an ass suddenly which was interesting). He also got......... very horny all the time probably lmao??

idk I'm very open to discussion on this cause idk what I'm talking about ☠️

[josefavomjaaga]

Napoleonic daily soap, episode 3: extra challenge – no Napoleon screentime!

Scene: Marseille. View of ships in the harbour, seagulls circling.

CUT to new scene: Small, dark bedroom, small stripes of daylight falling in between closed shutters. Sounds of seagulls screeching outside. Letizia kneeling in front of a small madonna figurine on her nightstand. A candle burning next to it.

Letizia [mutters prayers in Latin]

Sounds of a badly tuned piano coming from the next room. Somebody’s practicing a melody, failing every time. Laughter of girls.

Letizia [getting fed up]

„Dio Mio!“

Letizia [scrambles to her feet, yanks open the door to the next room, revealing Pauline and Caroline together in front of the piano, with Elisa sitting on the sofa, reading]

Letizia [in Italian]

„Paoletta! Annunciata! Do you want to drive your poor old mother crazy! Let Maria Anna play if you want to hear music, at least she can play!“

Caroline:

„But Mamma! How are we supposed to learn if we must not practice?“

Elisa [without looking up from her book, in a bored tone]:

„Also, as I’ve told you a dozen times already, don’t call me Maria Anna. It’s Elisa now.“

Pauline [mockingly]:

„Oh, of course, it’s Mademoiselle Elisa now. Because Mademoiselle has gone to school and has become all accomplished and distinguished  and French. [To Caroline] We really should let her play, Annunciata. She needs to keep practicing those skills. After all, she’s so ugly she’ll never find a husband without them.“

Pauline and Caroline laugh. Elisa throws her book at Pauline, missing her.

Letizia [crossing her arms in front of her chest] „Stop this, and give your mother some rest. I’ll never understand why Joseph spent so much money on this instrument anymway. If you girls want to find a husband, better learn cooking.“

Elisa, Pauline and Caroline [role their eyes, make different exasperated sounds]

Elisa:

„Mamma, I don’t think any of us girls plans on marrying someone unable to afford a cook.“

Pauline:

„Ya betcha!“

Letizia [regarding Elisa]

„In this case you better really practice whatever skills you have to attract a husband. Wealthy men look for beauty, or a dowry. Unless Joseph manages to squeeze some more money out of his Clary relations or finally has some success with his money making scheme in Genoa, none of you will have a dowry.“

Pauline:

„I don’t need no stinking dowry. I’m beautiful enough.“

Letizia [gives her a stern look but ends up smiling]

„You sure are, darling. But it still wouldn’t hurt if you knew how to gut a chicken. That goes for you, too, Annunziata.“

Caroline:

„Caroline.“

Letizia:

„What was that?“

Caroline:

„I’ve decided about my new name. If Maria Anna can be Elisa, I want to be called Caroline. That sounds much better. Much more French.“

Letizia [exasperated]

„What is it with everybody wanting to be French these days?“

A knock interupts them. The door opens, Lucien and Fréron enter the room. Everybody rushes up to hug Lucien, talking over each other in Italian.

Letizia:

„Luciano! What a surprise! We thought you were in Paris, doing politics with all those Frenchmen?“

Lucien: „That’s where I’m coming from, Mamma. But I’ve been sent here to Marseille in order to work with one of our most famous politicians, one of the pillars of our Republic. May I introduce you all to Citizen Louis Stanislas Fréron?“

Pauline [regarding Fréron from head to toe, smiling while licking her lips]

„Why, hello.“

Fréron [returning the look, grinning]

„Hel-lo!

Letizia [looks from Pauline to Fréron and back, starts smiling as well]

„Welcome, Citizen Fréron.“

Elisa and Caroline huddle around their mother, start whispering anxiously.

Elisa:

„Mamma, I believe this man has done really horrible things during the Revolution.“

Caroline:

„Yes, I think he’s a mass murderer or something!“

Letizia [looks at them confusedly]

„So?“

[iln2001contextualstudies]

Researching the Women of the Sea, the free-diving haenyeo women.

I first discovered these haenyeo women while researching another free-diver, Kimi Werner, as she traveled to dive with them, searching for answers around her worth as a diver, as a woman, as a new/ soon to be mother. She was welcomed into this diving circle with warmth and wisdom. They spoke of their work, daily difficulties, pregnancies and births out on the boats, the value and freedom they experience being the first accepted working mothers of their culture. I thought this was a perfect research piece to bring into my project.

In an article I found, the writer, Luciano Candisani, writes:

“… the sea. I am fascinated by the people whose livelihoods depend on it, and I have come to Jeju to learn more about a traditional way of life that, like many such cultures, is at risk of dying out. At the age of 90, Hyun Seon-jik still spends most of her time in the sea, out beyond the waves of Samdal-ri beach. She swims a five-hour shift with her fellow divers, searching for the seafood she collects for trading. Only shells that have grown over 7cm in size are taken; anything smaller is returned to the water to grow.”

This tradition of diving stems from the 17th century off the coast of Jeju Island, South Korea. Both men and women used to dive with just the air in their lungs and swim down where they would harvest the ocean floor. However, when abalone was confiscated for tax reasons, the male divers were outraged, leaving en mass, searching for other work. The women were left, turning as before to the sea for survival. After each dive the women would return to their homes, talking in their own haenyeo dialect. They began to practice “then-marginalised shamanic rituals, brought to Korea by nomadic peoples from Siberia and Manchuria around 6,000 years ago. With offerings to nature gods, they would thank these animist entities for the copious sea life received, asking for protection against strong underwater currents, storms, and marine predators.” Today we can see this systematic, unique, cohesive culture, founded and managed by the women themselves, in a society ruled by state ideologies holding that women should be subservient to men.

Throughout history, the haenyeo tradition has remained strong, although now, currently, there are only around 4000 remaining haenyeo divers, as young women do not want to take on the lifestyle of their grandmothers. However, there is a wellness and peacefulness in the intensity of these diving women. They don’t want their daughters to have to live this way, but, as stated in the article, the haenyeo are closer than sisters. The sea is their life and joy.

I was really touched when researching these women decided to create a two part linocut of them in my graphic media section. (The second panel is currently drying in the print room.)

Sources:

[4lenko]

Luciano Costa reposted a Kaidan Alenko magazine cover fanart on his insta! 🥹

He really cares about Kaidan even after all these years. I love him.

[heypetu]

CIRCLE from Films.Dance on Vimeo.

An analogy between the modern human being, living in mass cities, and the phenomenon of the circle of death - observed in nature with ants who are separated from the main foraging party and lose the pheromone track. They begin to follow one another, forming a continuously rotating circle, commonly known as a "death spiral" because the ants might eventually die of exhaustion. Shot in Mexico City, this vibrant and impressive city is a protagonist, symbolizing a life in endless high speed movement and the humans who are dedicating their lives to endless movement, self-exhaustion in a modern capitalistic based world.

Filmed in Mexico City, Mexico

Director: Phillip Kaminiak Choreographer: Qiaoqiao Zhang Featuring: Brenda Loustaunau Aguilar, Juan Carlos Estrada De La Cruz, Fernando Guez, Elisa Romero Ramírez, Carla Segovia, Paulina Vargas, Frank Vázquez, Diego Vertiz Composer: Raven Bush Editor: Sander Houtkruijer Cinematographer: Phillip Kaminiak Drone: Luciano Larobina Gomez Dance Producer: Carla Segovia Production Company: Landia Mexico Executive Producer Landia: Thomas Amoedo Producer Landia: David Kohan Production Coordinator: Gustavo Ezequil Anselmi Production Assistant: José Antonio Covarrubias Cepeda Costume Designer: Constanza Nahmad Styling: Constanza Nahmad, Dominga Huidobro Colorist: Manuel Portschy CGI Producer: A Current State CGI Creative Producer: Robert Wunsch Generalist: Arber Gishto VFX Supervisor: Mark Scott Retouching: Sujan Sureshan 1st AC: Edwin Vladimir Olivera Ramirez Ronin Operator: Fernando De Alba León Ronin Ronin Assistant: Arturo David Andrade Mundo Production Design House: Alina Bashirova Makeup Artist: Thania Erika Diaz Gomez Location Sound: Aldonza Contreras Castro Location Manager: Miguel Vargas Location Coordinator: Julio Cortez Scouter: Diego Mota Transportation: Agustin Malavar Flores Driver 1: Oscar Javier Delgado Sánchez Driver 2: Joel Bravo Cabrera Special Thanks: Patricio Perdomo, Fran Paparella, Thomas Amoedo, David Kohan, Agnes Lupion, Omar Uscanga, Aldonza Contreras Castro, Aura Collective, Bite Management, Jolanta Kniebel

PRODUCED BY: Jacob Jonas The Company Executive Producer/Creative Director: Jacob Jonas Producers: Jill Wilson, Emma Rosenzweig-Bock, Associate Producers: Joy Isabella Brown, Francisco Cruz, Steve Hackman, Emily Kikta, Rubberlegz, Anibal Sandoval, Mike Tyus, Peter Walker Fashion Director: Christian Stroble

CO-PRESENTED BY: BAM, The Harris, The Soraya, Stanford Live, Stanford Global Studies

[darkmaga-retard]

By Jake Johnson / Common Dreams

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu reiterated his hardline demands for any cease-fire agreement with Hamas late Monday as he faced massive domestic protests over hostage deaths in the Gaza Strip, where Israel’s U.S.-armed military continues to commit horrific atrocities and fuel a humanitarian emergency that has left much of the enclave’s population at growing risk of disease and starvation.

Netanyahu said in his first public address since Israeli forces recovered the bodies of six hostages on Sunday that he is committed to Israeli control of the Philadelphi corridor, a narrow strip of land along Gaza’s border with Egypt. Hamas has rejected that proposed condition as a nonstarter, calling it tantamount to “permanent occupation of the Gaza Strip.”

Continued Israeli military presence at the Philadelphi corridor, which Netanyahu characterized as “the oxygen of Hamas,” is among the new demands the far-right prime minister has pushed in cease-fire negotiations in recent weeks, prompting accusations that he is attempting to ensure the talks fail by pursuing conditions he knows are unacceptable to Hamas and other parties to the discussions, including Egypt.

Luciano Zaccara, professor in Gulf Studies at Qatar University, said in response to the prime minister’s address that the Philadelphi corridor demand is “one of the main problems in reaching a cease-fire agreement,” along with “the permanence of Israeli troops in the Rafah crossing.”

“[U.S. President Joe] Biden said that Netanyahu is not doing enough, and the fact he doesn’t want to change that red line will be, I think, the final issue that will break any prospect of future negotiations,” Zaccara added.

Sarah Leah Whitson, executive director of Democracy for the Arab World Now (DAWN), said in a statement late Monday that Netanyahu’s speech “once again made explicitly clear” that “the Israeli government is not interested in a cease-fire or ending its mass slaughter of Palestinians.”

“The only appropriate course of action for the U.S. and other governments is to sanction and suspend weapons to Israel, as the U.K. today announced it will do, in compliance with domestic and international laws around the world,” said Whitson.

Netanyahu’s remarks, during which he used a map that erases the occupied West Bank, came amid global outrage over the Israeli military’s latest deadly attack on Gaza civilians seeking food.

[lesterplatt]

CIRCLE from Films.Dance on Vimeo.

An analogy between the modern human being, living in mass cities, and the phenomenon of the circle of death - observed in nature with ants who are separated from the main foraging party and lose the pheromone track. They begin to follow one another, forming a continuously rotating circle, commonly known as a "death spiral" because the ants might eventually die of exhaustion. Shot in Mexico City, this vibrant and impressive city is a protagonist, symbolizing a life in endless high speed movement and the humans who are dedicating their lives to endless movement, self-exhaustion in a modern capitalistic based world.

Filmed in Mexico City, Mexico

Director: Phillip Kaminiak Choreographer: Qiaoqiao Zhang Featuring: Brenda Loustaunau Aguilar, Juan Carlos Estrada De La Cruz, Fernando Guez, Elisa Romero Ramírez, Carla Segovia, Paulina Vargas, Frank Vázquez, Diego Vertiz Composer: Raven Bush Editor: Sander Houtkruijer Cinematographer: Phillip Kaminiak Drone: Luciano Larobina Gomez Dance Producer: Carla Segovia Production Company: Landia Mexico Executive Producer Landia: Thomas Amoedo Producer Landia: David Kohan Production Coordinator: Gustavo Ezequil Anselmi Production Assistant: José Antonio Covarrubias Cepeda Costume Designer: Constanza Nahmad Styling: Constanza Nahmad, Dominga Huidobro Colorist: Manuel Portschy CGI Producer: A Current State CGI Creative Producer: Robert Wunsch Generalist: Arber Gishto VFX Supervisor: Mark Scott Retouching: Sujan Sureshan 1st AC: Edwin Vladimir Olivera Ramirez Ronin Operator: Fernando De Alba León Ronin Ronin Assistant: Arturo David Andrade Mundo Production Design House: Alina Bashirova Makeup Artist: Thania Erika Diaz Gomez Location Sound: Aldonza Contreras Castro Location Manager: Miguel Vargas Location Coordinator: Julio Cortez Scouter: Diego Mota Transportation: Agustin Malavar Flores Driver 1: Oscar Javier Delgado Sánchez Driver 2: Joel Bravo Cabrera Special Thanks: Patricio Perdomo, Fran Paparella, Thomas Amoedo, David Kohan, Agnes Lupion, Omar Uscanga, Aldonza Contreras Castro, Aura Collective, Bite Management, Jolanta Kniebel

PRODUCED BY: Jacob Jonas The Company Executive Producer/Creative Director: Jacob Jonas Producers: Jill Wilson, Emma Rosenzweig-Bock, Associate Producers: Joy Isabella Brown, Francisco Cruz, Steve Hackman, Emily Kikta, Rubberlegz, Anibal Sandoval, Mike Tyus, Peter Walker Fashion Director: Christian Stroble

CO-PRESENTED BY: BAM, The Harris, The Soraya, Stanford Live, Stanford Global Studies

[leslie-rosesims]

Sim Dump #8

Some more sims coming your way! I'm almost at the end of a big mass creation spree, so it'll take a bit to make more sims for you all to receive. As always CC is including in the download links. If you wish to see the CC links separately, pls send me a message. I'm more than happen to provide those links. At the end of this post will be the links to the Sims. Enjoy!

Have fun!

Gallery ID: Leslie_RoseSims

Melinda Cole MEGA

Sera Morrison SFS

Micaela Harris MEGA

Luciano De La Cruz SFS

Lacie Chen SFS

Mariela Blane MEGA

Meghan St Pierre SFS

[adeadlysong]

Muse Bios: Loreley & Mara DeRogna

Please note: Both Loreley and Mara DeRogna are to be considered as secondary muses on this blog, meaning that they probably won't be main muses in threads unless said threads involve them somehow for plot reasons. (Also there's a secret sidenote about Loreley at the end of this post if you're interested in seeing that XD)

These bios will also be added to my Other Muses page, so please check them out there too!

----

Mara DeRogna

FC: N/A at this time

She/her

Age: 30s? (No one 100% knows)

Romantic & sexual orientation: ???

An ambitious woman, Mara DeRogna wants to finish the work that her ancestors started. Long ago, there was a group of people that wished to conquer the empire that Melodia was part of to reform the entire land since the empire was falling apart due to infighting. However, when attempting to control dragons, that initial group failed in their task.

Mara is the descendant of one of the survivors from that failed group. Over time, she spent time in the shadows manipulating and persuading others to come to her side to try again at controlling dragons - some of which could apparently be found in Melodia, though she's not sure where - and take over Melodia and the land that it was once part of.

In a way, she's the Big Bad of the entire blog (outside of Araceli depending on the verse/thread situation). And she's not going down without a fight, either.

Mara DeRogna has dark blackish-brown hair that's about shoulder length, and similar-colored eyes. She's worn a variety of outfits from more extravagant to casual - it really just depends on what the occasion is in order to blend in with the masses or appeal to her followers with her own status and might.

Abilities:

Teleportation

Persuasion

Telekinesis

Stealth

Wind magic - includes the ability to levitate and fly at will.

Loreley

FC: Elizabeth Mitchell

She/her

Age: Mid-30s/Early 40s

Romantic & sexual orientation: ????

Loreley is known to run a nighttime establishment in a port town just at the border between the Darya Region and the Ilma Region. A business owner who takes care of those in her employ, going as far as making sure all of them are equipped with at least basic self-defense and have all basic needs met. Despite her working with people, she tends to have some amount of social anxiety and so doesn't go outside of town often.

Loreley did not come from Melodia. Loreley isn't even her real name. She fled her home country to Melodia for her own personal safety, due to people refusing to accept her for her powers back where she came from. She doesn't talk about the past often - the only ones who know her closest are Luciano and Nuriel, albeit for different reasons. Luciano is a semi-regular customer and business acquaintance of hers. Meanwhile, Nuriel had worked at Loreley's establishment mainly as security before he got picked up by Melodia Castle to work as Tahirah's bodyguard (and later advisor). Because of her role and her connections, she's also become the secret eyes and ears of the Althean and Anwara Regions, listening in and looking out for anything of interest.

Her appearance is blonde, pale skin, either wearing green or blue dresses with a white blouse and dark brown boots. Sometimes she wears cream-white and light blue colors too.

Abilities:

Ice powers - Loreley can summon ice and snow at will, use it to freeze people, and even summon giant ice golems and larger structures as needed.

Telekinesis - Loreley can do minor telekinesis.

Potions - Loreley can brew all sorts of potions to assist others with things like healing, etc. She's not a master, but she's decent with her abiltiies.

Persuasion - Given her business talents in running her establishment and so on, Loreley's gotten good at negotiations and persuading others.

(As a secret sidenote, Loreley is my Melodian AU version of what happened to Ingrid from Once Upon A Time (hence the similarities in backstory, powers and FC). If there are any OUAT RPers that want to explore that connection, let me know in messages.)