#born and raised Christians wont get this

[wadesprincessboy]

My mum just told me to go back to tumblr and keep talking because its keeping me quiet....my dear Jewish mother I hate to break it to you but I am on this app talking about how I love Jesus...Im sorry

[nemotakeit]

i remember the first time ever i listened to SO i was like pfft rap? get out. (i was cringe) and then when i gave it a listen again a few months later i was a changed person... so i binge listened to their entire discography immediately and was genuinely shocked because how could ALL of their songs be bangers, like i couldn't believe it was possible it was surreal........ i wish i could turn back time (lol) to experience that pure shock again

[n4talia-chaparro]

THE WHOLE THING IS COMPLETE NOW LETS GOOO

And remember I'll be explaining half of it except for the "trauma" part (wont go very deep into it unless you want me to-) because you guys are so sensitive that you can't even handle a damn topic properly instead of learning of how to read a warning instead of ignoring it! So yeah if you get sensitive and stuff. NOT my responsibility, cry about it bozo.

Side note: the "trauma" explanation is ALSO on the document so I won't be mentioning that to avoid drama or controversy.

Unless I can mention a few things like the word "bruises" or something like that. so hopefully this doesn't cause drama in the fandom.

So anyway TW for POORLY GRAMMAR, CA, religion, some yucky theme, etc.

You have been warned-

Before I explain it I would like to inform you that this timeline or "past" was inspired by a random episode from the 1st season were explains why Krupp has always been a "grumpy bully" and reveals his "mother" and her real name.

So instead of a grumpy bully this version is way different compared with the original episode from the show.

Not to mention this timeline is heavily inspired by Bojack Horseman and Moral Orel. and a little inspired by the GS au, a silly and interesting au created by warrior of waistbands/hey-hey "J" (Ps. Check out their au and artwork. They are cool ^^)

Don't want them to block me if they find out I enjoy their artwork and find out about my stuff as well just like the creator of the sticky note au did for no apparent reason :((

Gp's Childhood (?)

Pretty sure you are confused and asking yourself what happened or how did this happen before Gp!krupp himself became a villain in this AU. Well allowed me to explain.

Ben was a regular kid who lived in a place that was kinda similar to a farm. Sorta. Just like the other kids, he was just normal except he didn't have a good and healthy relationship with his family after what happened.

When Ben was 7-8 years old he would always hear and watch his parents argue and fight over things. Meanwhile Jasper was 0-1 months old which sadly he didn't remember what his dad looks like back then.

A few days later Bernice and her husband got a divorce, the 1st reason was because Bernice was toxic and would constantly almost hit him. She was also abusive towards him. Even if the husband wanted to visit his kids, Bernice refused to share the custody with him.

The other reason was because she didn't like the fact he was a jew. Bernice was raised by christians and her mother always told her that people who are in that religion could not be trusted. Because of that, she wanted a divorce over that. Again Ben and Jasper were too young and didn't understand the reason behind the divorce.

2 years later Benjamin turned 10 years old and is in 4th grade. However, his relationship with his mom was terrible. He thought that maybe she was stressed but he was wrong. Every time he wanted to talk his mom would yell and throw insults at Ben. Saying that she regretted having him and wished he had NEVER been born in the first place. Bernice would also say that it's his fault that she didn't have time to get an abortion

Of course, the little buddy was hurt by it as maybe his hatred toward Bernice was slowing growing back then.

꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦︶∪∪︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦

September 3, ????: Ben had a bad time trusting people, especially Bernice. His mom kept on judging and yelling at him for not being good enough. Bernice would always compare him with her husband, saying he is just like HIM and he will never be good enough.

Bernice also gaslights and manipulates the child, especially guilt-tripping him to the point Ben can't even focus on his schoolwork.

Until that day she decided to sign him up to a church without thinking. She could've asked Ben for permission but instead, she decided to sign it and say it was for the "best". Ben didn't like going in there but unfortunately, Bernice had to guilt-trip the child again and say she will send hurt him if he disobeyed.

The place was called "The Valley Church Sidney Piqua", also known as "Valley Church" for short.

Bernice thought that place was fun for her son since a friend of hers suggested her sign him up there so he can spend time with other children.

Which gone wrong uh-

꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦︶∪∪︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦

Ben hated that place so much, he didn't like people, and he hates being recorded or watched by the nuns. He hates the fact his mom is shoving those in his throat. Before that "activity" started he met the priest, Levi Smith. One of his mom's friends (well future husband I suppose? Like lovers or whatever). The man himself was glad to see the child in person and introduced himself. Again Ben (gp) didn't like the place. He wasn't interested. He just wanted to finish his work.

Days and weeks passed and Benjamin was slowly feeling like the priest was like a father to him.

No matter how much he despises Levi, the man makes him less comfortable. The problem he had with the man was that he kept staring at him nonstop. It's always the unwanted and uncomfortable touch and unnecessary questions. He thought it was how christians treat others and thought it was stupid. But sadly things got worse when Levi encouraged him to follow him to his office to have a "serious conversation" and...

I'll let you guys guess. Not gonna reveal it at all. (OR should I???)

After the experience

He has stopped talking to his mom to avoid being stared at and judged by her as usual. It was pretty painful for him to hold it.

He didn't know if he needed to go to a hospital or not. Still didn't know if he was gonna diagnosed with something worse like a disorder or an infection after THAT.

4-5 days passed (September 8th) and he started to behave differently. He couldn't concentrate or focus. Everything that surrounds him scares him. The cross, the kindergarteners, everything reminds him of the priest and those people. it haunts him.

According to his History teacher, Ben gets easily triggered and hides under the damn table. Others say the little buddy responds aggressively when someone touches or speaks to him

The principal and the teacher tried their best to have a meeting with Bernice about her son's new behavior. Bernice, being sarcastic and unaware, said that's him being a little scumbag for attention but the principal didn't agree with that statement and tried to convince her to visit a therapist for the kid. Unfortunately, Bernice refuses to do that because she doesn't wanna go broke and waste money on something that Ben "doesn't" need and he seems normal to her.

She then asked herself why the fuck would he need that if he's very normal? Maybe he's been a little bastard- nah not really. Her goofy cowgirl egg-shaped ass was still unaware. Maybe Ben was being dramatic and problematic after finding out about the divorce between her and the father.

After the meeting Bernice was pissed off. She didn't wanna waste her time having another conversation with a staff over the same topic. She was sick and tired of receiving concerning and worrying comments from the teacher when it comes to Ben.

Bernice had a enough that ended up doing the worst thing. Harming the living shit out of Ben as a punishment. She didn't care if it's physical or not.

꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦︶∪∪︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦

Day 9 (September 17): sadly no positive changes. Still the same. Well.. except for his hatred towards Bernice. It grew more than last month plus his trauma making it more than "little".

(Keep in mind He is STILL 10 and will be 11 next year) things were hard. Still can't focus on schoolwork or chores. He even had to babysit Jasper for his mom every Sunday when she went to church. Well just to visit her belove Mr. Smith /j

The day gets worse as usual. Yeah like always. Ben was aware that soon his school would have a Halloween party but he didn't want to know what would happen if SHE found out about it.

After babysitting Jasper, he felt stressed. His mom came at 6PM when she promised she would be at 10 AM. I guess she lied.

Bernice was only giving him a dead stare. Not saying a word. That made Ben feel less secure. Not sure if what she's thinking of him now.

꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦︶∪∪︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦

September 18, ????: Things were the same, Ben acting strange and traumatized after what happened. He wasn't in the mood to be with people and wanted to be alone.

He felt gross. He feels dirty. He feels disgusting and nasty. He didn't know how to feel after that. Ben wished he never met HIM or at least defend himself but it was too late to do that. he wanna forget the things he experienced

He hates his body so much. He hates seeing bruises and bite marks all over his body and neck. He hates it so much. Later that day he finally met someone who will always make him happy for the first time.

Theodore (ted), the new student.

That day was odd but special. He didn't like the kid that much, Theodore seemed annoying to him but hey! It was slowly making Ben less happy that someone like Ted understood him but still didn't trust him that much.

Weeks passed and they know each other perfectly and became friends. Even tho Ted was a friend to him, he was slowly developing an attraction toward Theodore. He didn't wanna confess it yet, he was worried his mom would find out and scold him for it.

He didn't know how to feel. Yet he does feel a bit clingy towards him sometimes.

꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦︶∪∪︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦

October 31st: it was a cold night, it was Halloween. Ben was getting ready to go outside like the others, he went downstairs to see if dinner was ready but LMFAO. I guess things can get worse

The priest was in the kitchen along with Bernice. He didn't say a word. Only staring at the priest with disgust and hatred after what he has done to him. To make it work Jasper was with them. His brother was 2 months old (sorta???) and seeing him next to the priest made Ben sick in the stomach. Bernice wanted Ben to upstand what was best for him but he immediately left the house without eating, not wanting to listen to her excuses.

He was now walking outside. He didn't understand how his mom was unaware of what Levi did. But decided to go trick-or-treating to forget about it.

Few hours later: The stressed and overwhelmed boy was still walking around to find candies in a different direction until he saw the church. That was the place where his mom signed him.

Just by looking at it, the place makes him grossed out and wishes that place and the priest never existed in the first place. Then he thought of a random idea, he remembered some random neighbor accidentally giving him a candle inside of a chocolate bar so he picked up the candle from the bag and grabbed the matches

Before he attempted to throw the candle at it, Ben was interrupted by a simple "Hello" from behind. Just

Theodore. Ben nervously blushed and didn't know he was there. Maybe he was waiting for him. Who knows. Ted was happy and said he was excited to see him again. He looked at the candle and asked him about it. Ben explained and Ted was confused yet not really aware what it means.

Soo..Ted grabbed his hand and ran with him with a smile to start their first adventure cuz why not?

Ben accidentally dropped the candle (which he put the fire on) to the ground, slowly burning the place by itself as the two boys ran away laughing to enjoy their night.

꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦︶∪∪︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦

Lucky for him, he was happy to be with Ted. Minutes later they both head to a random place to eat and sit somewhere-

And that's where Ben begins to confess his feelings to him and explains how much he likes him.

Then Ted understood that and confessed back. they both became a couple and dated.

They have been together for almost 2-3 years of happiness. Ted was like a missing puzzle and made his day happy. Without him and his warm comforting smile, he wouldn't be happy.

Sadly it didn't last forever because Bernice didn't like their relationship and tried to solve it by separating them :(

Past childhood relationships

Very sad honestly. Did we talk about his relationship with his mom right? Yeah, we did. But there are a few things I'd like to add.

Bernice: not only she's abusive and manipulative. She's also strict. Bernice would get easily pissed at Ben for having Bs something scolding him for not working hard. her to stop.

She throws tomatoes at him whenever he gets a B or for not being good enough- sometimes strangling him with a noose or leaving cigarette burn on his skin or using a branding iron at him. "Oopsie my bad I was joking lmfao lemme check it out-"

Had to make him milk the cows,,,, yes we have cows in this au,,,,wow. Idk how to feel about this.

Just like the episode except a little more... uh...hear me out 🗣🗣🗣 /JK JK

Jasper: the two-month-old brother YIPPE. silly babeh cuz Ben is the older brother

Whenever he's being watched by Ben, he acts like a little gremlin and makes a mess 24/7.

Even tho Ben's relationship with Jasper is just chaotic. Well stupid, he can't blame him, he is aware he is toddler so I don't get why it's necessary to yell at jasper- 💀

Present

Aw yes. The past is the past and we move on to the present now. we have the grown-ass Gp who is a principal and tries his best to focus and he has a different religion, Judaism.

Unfortunately, the childhood trauma still haunts him nowadays. His meds don't work that well and has a major anger issue, sorta. Like I mentioned in a very old post about Gp!Krupp, unlike the OG Netflix Krupp, he still has some sort of IQ since childhood and if we add the current IQ that he has after becoming a villain it's...well high?

Thanks to the smartychanger200, aka the invention that Melvin made and accidentally shot Krupp with, he managed to gain more intelligence...but you know...he then managed to get more by stealing Melvin's IQ and combining it with his uh...big fuckery but that's how it happened,,, uh- /Srs /gen

So, uh...after all, he is still a murderous principal, a walking red flag, I must say. The man himself cam get a little too silly, and should be careful if you interact with him 🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️☝️🤓🤓

[scifriskyxy]

The reason we dont have a culture anymore is because the lgbtq,feminist, black lives matter movement, the me too movement the destruction of the family unit, the destruction of friendships,gate keepers

The fact that people get angry at the american flag,the people that get angry at it, destroyed the american culture. Those are the people ,the people who protest on japans culture, those are the people that have destroyed our society, they are a mix of americans and immigrants, the people we call tourist where the ones that destroyed us, the rich snobs ,those who act rich,the children that are spoiled rotten desytoyed us ,the parents that said "i wont do what my dad did" the people that want to stop the generational trauma altogether,in some ways thats great but however trauma teaches us, it humbles us it warns us on whats dangerous

The MOCKING of christianity is the disrespect,the lack of chivalrous men,the stock piling of wealth ,the lack of proper justice, the men and women that trap their spouse into paying for a child that for men likely isnt theirs and so much more

A culmination of all these things

The only actual culture left are the hillbillies, the florida man , the motorcycle gangs,rednecks

These people, as far as i can tell, are one of the few people left with the american spirit , with a culture that survives being named and will survive persecution. Why? Because a lot of these people are veteran alot of these people fought for our countries they know what america means

How did this start? You wonder,well

For me as far as i can tell it started when americans began to call themselves african american it started with slurs it moved to women more and more leaving the home life ,it began with trends that didnt unify us it began with trends that divided us

I do not know how my home land my borinquen is today...i had to leave it due to reasons outside of my control, but when i was there ,there was unity, there was love there was respect ,it wasnt always the best

I could join in the fun myself due to being isolated in an apartment looking down at the happenings i still watch from phisical isolation. Now that i am on the ground, i am in america. All i see is a desolate desert

Dull colors, vast open roads, ghosts whispers of a past that was slowly bit by bit torn to shreds all thats left ,is drugs,sex endless rants, whimps that cry victim, people that blindly trust blindly blame blame blame,conspiracy theories and people divided glaring at eachother,endless secrets and a rabbit hole of depravity that doesnt end...it feels like the pits of hell and its gates are opening

People see it but do nothing because it 'not their problem

Im scared... I do not know what i can do. We've tried everything, and things aren't changing fast enough if things dont change FOR the better ,the monsters ,the predators amongst us the inhuman people amongst us the most deprived twisted beings that are being protected that we arent allowed to harm will harm us we cant protect ourselves,the children are being raised and born to be worse than the last generation

What can we do?

We can't do anything because we suffer from a cycle. Many places have managed to slow the cycle down,we are being fought over by two sides, and we do not know ,i do not know the reason but we are seen as a comodity for whatever reason ,is it our souls? Is it our attention? We never had a choice. We were never given one WE, who never had a voice

What would you choose ,Satan or god

It's a red herring... or so it feels like it to me,

It's either god or suffer,come to me, my child, or be destroyed ,blindly trust me child or suffer,we never had a choice jesus made that choice for us,one man one person made the choice for an unfathomable amount of lives ,hes the king hes all...and what are we?...he says we are kings and queens but are we? I stare at the angels. Did they have a choice? I look at the Bible, and i stare up at the stars , i yearn to be free, we are so close to it...and we are being struck down by something we can't comprehend something all powerful, something we cannot fight against no matter how hard we try,something we cannot escape from even in death

So many people silenced blindly trusting and distrusting

I wish deeply to ask jesus a question

Why does he blindly believe a father that was never there for him, a father that technically assaulted his mother that tained something so sacrilegious as a marriage? I understand why he didn't choose to side with Satan, but why, God, when he had a choice, a choice never said, choose neither... and choose everyone

I know my questions will land me in hell, all I hope i figure out my own way out somehow sometimes you must ask for help I know but sometimes that help comes with a price

All I want... all I crave is freedom ,no hellish jail, no collar and chain,no strings, no judgment

Why... do I crave this so badly that my body has goosebumps

I crave to create. I crave to explore the abyss of the cosmos I crave to learn,I CRAVE THE TRUTH

The more I look up, the more that dream is fading the more I see what God has done... the more I see dead or dying stars devastated planets ...has it always been this way? Or is this God's doing

If there's a father... where is the mother... who is the mother? There must be a mother out there, right?

I may be scared... but I must keep moving. I can not stop. I MUST break through no matter how much pain and how much suffering I must stay determined. I do not want to fight. All I want is freedom. Hurting someone is the last thing I want to do, so I place a shield upon myself. What color will it be? I do not know. I do not care. All colors are beautiful, hope, and love where given to me I will not allow God to take it away a gift is a gift after all and I accept your gift you shouldn't be expecting anything in return perhaps one day I'll be able to give back

.

.

.

Just Believe

[creesims]

Round 2 of Paradise Falls is complete and Jeremy is ready to file his report

“The Overseer has announced that the Vault is ready to support new life! Everyone has re-evaluated their living situation and moved in with the Sim they want to start a family with”

“Riri has fully popped but the baby wont come until next round. Insef raised her cooking skill enough to finally get the chocolate factory working, which is good because the baby seems to love chocolate bunnies”

“I gave birth to the first baby born in Vault 88. Christian is a healthy baby boy, Shing and I couldn’t be more proud”

“Blake and Xin have moved in together but they’re taking things slow, no baby for them just yet. I’m glad we can count on them to babysit for now. Xin made toy bricks and gifted them to all the parents of little ones”

“Kyle and Olimpia also moved in together. It’s not a match made in heaven, they only have 1 bolt, but everyone else was already paired up so they kinda had to settle for each other. Kyle brought a surprise with him, a baby girl he conceived with Blake. They named her Zahra”

[seerjude]

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Jude Hugo Lawrence. He wasn’t named for the meaning as much as the sound, though his middle name has been passed through the Lawrence family for generations. NICKNAME: Jude does not have a nickname, though he wouldn’t be opposed to a close family member or friend making one up for him . . . So long as it isn’t an embarrassing one, of course. AGE AND BIRTHDAY: Jude is thirty eight and was born October 31st, 1944. Since discovering his powers he’s found it all very ironic that he was born on Halloween. That among other things has got him thinking about fate quite a lot these days, he’s not sure free will really exists. SEXUALITY: Jude would call himself straight if anyone asked, given the times and the importance of his reputation but he has had several discreet affairs with other gentlemen. ABILITY: He’s a medium, meaning he has the ability to see/hear/communicate with spirits of the deceased. It’s not something he ever would have wanted for himself and he’d give it up in a heartbeat if someone told him how. He struggles to differentiate spirits from living people and can occasionally be caught speaking to someone nobody else sees, unaware they’re a ghost, as well as ignoring someone that is very much alive when he assumes incorrectly that they’re not. Fortunately, that isn’t an everyday occurrence, a lot of spirits are pretty obvious. He’s not very well practiced with his abilities but were he to gain a higher degree of control, he’d also be able to channel spirits, allowing them to temporarily possess his body. His gift scares and annoys him so he hasn’t done much work to learn more about it.  CLASS: Jude is registered as Class C. It’s fairly accurate, at least as long as he doesn’t cross paths with a spirit that has sensitive information like national secrets. That hasn’t happened yet and it’s unlikely, there are a lot of ghosts out there. When he realized he was gifted and not insane he went immediately to get himself classified, not wanting to deal with the nightmare of others finding out and thinking he had a reason to keep it secret. Being both wealthy and only Class C, he hasn’t experienced too much trouble for being registered, although there are frequent comments from others of similar wealth turning up their noses at him.

PHYSICAL.

SCARS: He has a scar from his appendectomy when he was fourteen, otherwise none! TATTOOS: Jude has no tattoos though he wouldn’t be opposed to getting one somewhere hidden. The only reason he hasn’t is because he doesn’t have any ideas for one. STYLE: He dresses like old money. When he’s at an event that requires him to dress up he shows up in a well tailored suit, one that isn’t flashy. When he’s dressing down he still wears clothes that are more expensive, clothes from high-fashion labels but they blend into the crowd. He doesn’t try to flaunt his wealth so he doesn’t wear clothes that make him stand out, only clothes that are “respectable” and well made. Others of a similar class of society are likely to recognize the brands since old-money is all about covert high-fashion but most wont.  WALK AND POSTURE: His back is straight, his chin is held high, he’ll pass a smile if he catches someone’s eye and strut around as if he’s never been told no. He’s not obnoxious but he certainly walks with a degree of importance, taking long strides with his shoulders pushed back. SPEECH: Jude rarely curses and his voice is pleasant to listen to. He very rarely raises it, speaking at a confident, easy to hear volume without being noisy. He has “no accent” or rather, a very generic American accent.

PHILOSOPHY.

SPIRITUALITY: He was raised nominally Catholic, meaning they went to mass for Christmas, Easter, funerals, and weddings but not much else. These days he doesn’t know what it is that he believes. If there is a god he doubts it’s the Christian god and he doubts that he’s good. One thing he does believe in are ghosts, considering his ability, but that’s the only certainty he has. MORALS: Jude’s philosophy is very up in the air these days. In the past he’d have had an answer about what made something right and what made something wrong but now he’s not so sure. He enjoys trying different philosophies on for size and seeing what he thinks but none have stuck. He wants to be a good person, he’s just not been very proactive about making that a reality. VICES: Jude is cunning. He will do what he needs to not only to survive but to thrive, no matter how many go down because of it. He’s not violent but he’d certainly pull a string or two to secure what he wants, even if that means someone else has to suffer or go down for it. WRONGDOINGS: He’ll tolerate being a con, a cheat, a narc, whatever a shark has to be but he isn’t one for violence. If it comes up he’ll defend himself without hesitation but he considers it immature and ineffective. There are better ways to get what you want when your coffers are full. PICK ONE OF EACH: HERO or VILLAIN    /    RETRIBUTION or REHABILITATION    /    GRUDGE or FORGIVENESS    /    PASSIONATE or APATHETIC

EDUCATION.

SCHOOL: He has a bachelor’s in business administration from Harvard and was a decent student all through high school and college. Whenever he struggled with a subject his parents were quick to hire a private tutor. He went to a private boarding school for his junior and senior year of high school and prior to that he attended a private school in Boston. His favorite subject has always been art and his least favorite is math. TALENTS: Jude is a phenomenal cook. He didn’t need to learn due to any necessity but he picked it up on a whim when he was in middle school. Now that he’s in charge of the family’s finances he doesn’t even have a private chef working full time for him! Wild! He does hire one when he’s hosting any sort of event but otherwise, he enjoys making his own meals. Aside from cooking, he’s also very well educated when it comes to the arts. He loves all of it and will gladly ramble on about art history if given the chance. LANGUAGES: Jude started taking French in high school and continued to study it as his foreign language requirement in college. He loves visiting Paris and although he still has an American accent when speaking French, he communicates well enough that he’s not immediately shut down.

RELATIONSHIPS.

FRIENDSHIPS: He has a lot of friends that he’d abandon in a heartbeat if it suited him and who would do the same to him. Most of them are wealthy, most of them are old money though a few are from new money, he doesn’t mind. He also has a few friends that aren’t rich at all and these ones he is much less cunning towards. They’re artists that he met while at Harvard or at various shows, gala’s, and the like. He enjoys being around creatives and would absolutely consider himself a patron of Boston’s art community. When you’re friends with Jude, whether that’s a genuine friendship or a useful connection to him really just depends. He’s not great at forming deep connections with others though it isn’t due to a reluctance so much as his own ambition makes that difficult. He’d like to meet someone he can be entirely himself around, and he does have that in his brother, he just doesn’t know how to create it outside of his family. FAMILY: Jude was always very close to his family, especially his mother and brother. His mother was his biggest fan growing up and saw to it that he never wanted for anything while his brother became his best friend later on in life, once he stopped finding him annoying for being younger. Jude and his father have a decent relationship, though it isn’t as close, mostly because his father has always had very high expectations for Jude. He does still love his father quite a lot and knows that he is loved in return. ROMANTIC: Jude had several girlfriends in high school, though all of those relationships fizzled out after a few months. He had a girlfriend in college which lasted a bit longer, only for him to get bored of being in a relationship after a few years and end things with her, too. He’s also had multiple dalliances with other men which began in his college years but none were serious and they all ran its course. Jude can be flighty in a relationship, finding it difficult to balance a love life with everything else that he wants to do; he will always prioritize himself. He’s not opposed to being in another relationship but he also enjoys being single, he’s in no rush.  ENEMIES: Most of Jude’s enemies considered him an enemy, first. As mentioned, Jude will prioritize himself at the cost of others but that doesn’t mean he has ill will towards those people . . . It just so happens that those people usually have ill will towards him afterwards. When he does genuinely dislike someone he’s cold towards them, he has mastered the art of backhanded remarks and isolating people from his circle of friends. If he’s furious, depending on the other person’s station in life and amount of power they wield, he’ll quite easily ruin their lives. An artist he once considered a friend humiliated him? Very well, he knows most of the gallery owners in Boston, at least the ones that matter, how does it feel having your work blocked from the art world? Things like that. 

PERSONALITY.

MBTI: ENTJ - The Commander “Commanders are true powerhouses, and they cultivate an image of being larger than life – and often enough they are. Commander personalities have a particular skill in recognizing the talents of others, and this helps in both their team-building efforts, and to keep Commanders from displaying too much arrogance and condescension. However, they also have a particular skill in calling out others’ failures with a chilling degree of insensitivity, and this is where Commanders really start to run into trouble. Emotional expression isn’t the strong suit of any Analyst type, but Commanders’ distance from their emotions is especially public, and felt directly by a much broader swath of people. Especially in a professional environment, Commanders will simply crush the sensitivities of those they view as inefficient, incompetent or lazy. Commanders will do well to remember that they absolutely depend on having a functioning team, not just to achieve their goals, but for their validation and feedback as well, something Commanders are, curiously, very sensitive to.” THE GOOD: Jude is incredibly dedicated and loyal to his family. He wants to be the perfect son, to fill the shoes of his father, and he works hard to do so. It’s not a want that he leaves on the backburner, he’s proactive about it. He’s also open minded, although he can be ruthless and cunning, he’s not evil. He means well, you just can’t get in his way. He doesn’t discriminate based on someone’s wealth and he’s happy to meet people from all walks of life and importantly, he’s happy to learn. He’s also a joy to be around, he’s witty and charming, he doesn’t make others feel small unless he needs to or they made him feel small first. He’s a great person to sit next to at a dinner or to meet at a gallery and a powerful connection to have. THE BAD: His ugly side is contained. Most will never meet it aside from catching him when he’s especially stressed, when he tends to be much more dismissive and cold. The few who have met the full extent of how ruthless he can be will regret having met him, as detailed already, he will do what he thinks he needs to without apology to those he hurts. FIRST GLANCE: Jude is fantastic at first impressions. Upon meeting him you are likely to walk away feeling charmed and like you just met an incredibly intelligent, driven, charismatic fellow. He’s good at getting people to warm up to him and making them feel welcome, really, he’s a marvelous host. If he were to rub someone the wrong way it’s probably due to his own ignorance to what life looks like outside of the bubble he’s in, though he’s good at smoothing over interactions if he thinks he misstepped. TEMPERAMENT: Jude is a people pleaser as long as it suits him to be. He doesn’t anger quickly but he is often stressed out and is liable to take that stress out on those around him. With new people, he’s a fun guy to be around, but once you get closer to him you’ll start to see his mask slip and get a whiff of just how tightly wound he really is.

MOTIVATIONS.

GOALS: Jude wants to make his father proud, even if he knows he won’t see it. He needs to feel like he did something unique, something important with his life and with his company. He doesn’t just want to be status quo for Lawrence Diamonds, he wants to elevate it somehow, he wants to leave his mark. Truth be told, if he weren’t from the family he’s from, he’d probably want to be a curator for an art museum, which would fulfill him much more than living in the shadows of his family. The heart of his goal, moving past the way he’s superficially trying to get to it, is just to feel like he’s doing something that matters. To feel like he deserves all that he’s had given to him, that his life has meaning beyond carrying on his family’s legacy while still being a credit to it. OBSTACLES: Jude is doing all that he can as far as reaching what he thinks his goal is; to fill his father’s shoes and make Lawrence Diamonds even more successful than it already is. He’s very proactive in that regard but again, it’s not the heart of what he wants, though he’s yet to realize that for himself. His biggest obstacle is that self awareness factor, as well as the fear of failing. Lawrence Diamonds seems to him like the most important thing in his life, he’d need a pretty good push to realize that he can do and be more than that. ADVANTAGES: Once Jude realizes what he really wants and musters up the courage to go for it, he’ll be set. He has wealth and connections so if you need a guy to pull strings, he’s your man. What will help him is probably someone spoon feeding it to him, someone pointing out that clearly, Lawrence Diamonds is not bringing him joy or fulfillment and that if he’s always saying “after this next thing” then it never will. Once he realizes that, he’s going to need another push, likely from his brother though potentially his father if he’s lucid; he needs to be told it’s okay to live for something other than his family. FEARS: Ironically and very unluckily, ghosts scare Jude. he’s certainly gotten more used to it since they became a regular part of his life but the moment he sees none he dreads the moment when he will again. REGRETS: Jude is not very self aware, to put it simply. He lives his life unapologetically. Sure, he’s aware he’s done some ruthless things but it’s what needed to happen so he doesn’t regret it. He’s always been loyal to his family and that’s what matters.

[moonlightchess]

The Winter Wolves (1)

Eirik and Eija Sturmborn are twins, born to a long local tradition in northernmost Minnesota, of winter wolves and pack wars and family bonds as deep as they are destructive. Things are changing as of late, and worse, not changing at all - they’re adults now, and they have yet to shift into the wolf-skin their wild-bred parents should have passed on to them long ago. Wholly human they remain, albeit strong and hardy and ready to die fighting back the howling rival packs threaded throughout their family’s Gray woods as rumors spread that the Sturmborn twins are never going to make the final change and now is the time to strike, to wipe out the Sturmborn pack entirely so that their dwindling bloodline will finally cease to be a threat in the inevitable statewide pack war that has been simmering for years. 

There’s also the death of their lost brother Sven, years ago, killed in an alpha fight during a wolf run with their parents when the twins were children - as the story goes, anyway. Details are emerging, cults are stirring, and the twins can’t stop dreaming of ravens and death. The Danish Larsen witches to the south who claim Eija’s dearest friend and heart’s desire Sara have no idea that she’s been using her magic to aid the twins in uncovering what really happened to Sven and holding off the Karlsen and Jorgunsson packs for as long as possible. Meanwhile Eirik’s continued clumsy attempts to woo the elegant violinist, the newcomer to Angle Inlet Julian Hassan, are not going well at all. The brutal tragedy and burgeoning madness stirring in their land and their blood are nothing compared to the battlefield of human longing, a truth more evident every day.

“All religion is only ever a desperate search for the freedom and relief of not being held accountable for your own life, your own future, your own actions,” Eirik told his sister once, huffing the words into a cloud of sawdust as he’d hunched over his current project - a kitchen table for upstairs. “The trick is finding the right god to apply to your personal aesthetic, the right doctrine to inspire your vanity and ego. You have to find the god that’s willing to tell you what you want to hear, who looks the way you think god should look. Once you do, of course you’ll die for them. The mass appeal of Christianity lies in how malleable and forgiving it is, and churches and cults alike all feed on growth. That’s why the Buddhists are so welcoming to any ignorant white college student with a “namaste” bath rug, they’ve figured it out. It’s the same reason romance novels with empty, undefined characters always sell the best. People like to see themselves in things, I revere the old gods as much as anyone, but I’m not stupid. We are nothing if not our own egos. It’s the invite-only religions that you ought to keep an eye on.”

Eija had laughed, the inhalation of a lungful of sawdust of no concern to her. They were woodworkers and potters by trade, the Sturmborns. Her own palm was slowly working out a thick pine splinter from a week ago. “So now my brother is a philosopher,” she’d observed, stealing his iron beer stein for a healthy gulp. At eighteen apiece - twins, they - technically the state laws of Minnesota frowned upon such indulgences. But the town of Angle Inlet was also acutely aware of the elective and social power of its enormously Scandinavian population, who poured beer and honey wine out at winter gatherings for everyone present, including their young. Such was their culture, and they’d been raised into responsible sorts. The ale of tonight was a heady, oaky blend with a thick head of caramel foam, heavily scented of smoked apples.

“Hardly, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about.” Eirik lapsed into a comfortable silence without further elaboration, another habit to which they were prone. She eventually retrieved some homework from under their longest work bench, history tonight, and settled cross-legged on the basement’s gritty stone floor while her brother worked. He was sanding the chair smooth by the time she looked up again, rising to his considerable height - both of them quite tall and sturdy like their parents - to tap her on the top of her head. Her nearly-buzzed snow-blonde hair scraped his fingertips like velcro, and she lifted her head without comment. His own was much longer, down just past his shoulders in thick wheat-blond waves. “It’s getting late.” He handed her the last of the beer stein to finish, which she did, bringing it upstairs to wash later.

The house was quiet, still. They hadn’t seen their parents in weeks, which was not unusual. The wolves had come calling in September, as they were wont to do, and Kaspar and Emma Sturmborn had bolted from the house one night at last, howling and wild and tearing at their clothes. They’d returned once or twice before the autumn chill had cracked the damp haze of summer, naked and soaked in blood, flesh scored raw with gore and gashes that healed in a day or two. On the last night of September though, their mother had been snappish and restless at dinner. Their father’s profoundly sexual longing for her had oozed through his attempts at polite conversation, the occasional baring of teeth suggesting that marital relations weren’t the only carnal craving he was experiencing just then. The blood moon had come.

The howling, the clicking of claws on their porch, the soft whuffing and whimpering of the pack had kept the twins up that night, and in the morning their parents had been gone, lost to the woods with the front door swinging open in the slight breeze. Every year the pack came, and every year they stayed away a little longer. But Eija and Eirik knew hunting, knew canning, fermenting, cooking and cleaning. They knew how to make and repair furniture, ceramics, clothes. They knew how to maintain embers in the wood stove to keep the house warm, and they knew how to play chess to keep each other entertained. Every year they were fine whenever their parents returned, and this bred a sense of confident abandonment in Kaspar and Emma. No questions were ever asked, no details ever offered.

The matter of Sven though, was troubling.

Sven had been their brother, once. He’d been tall and thick like them, pale and blond with a strong jaw and ice-colored eyes so light and glittering they were nearly colorless mirrors. He’d turned with their parents early, tumbling around the woods as a pup and laughing at the way his body had shifted so fluidly from yipping gray wolf to boy and back again. Sven had never stopped laughing, in fact - he’d been funny, loud and bright. He hid Eija’s shoes and teased Eirik into putting his hand into a box full of shaving cream to find out the “secret.” His hugs had always been warm and tight, and one day he’d bounded out the door with his parents and the pack to chase the blood moon and he’d never come back.

There had been a hunt, their parents had explained. A fight, an accident, Sven’s blood splashed dark across the trees and snow. He’d never come back from the woods, and they’d never spoken of him again. Eija though, she kept his sweaters at the back of her closet and would occasionally put one on, for bad nights. She still had Eirik at least, who was steady and intelligent without any of Sven’s lively humor but all of his sturdy support and dependability. Their parents would not speak his name, as if to acknowledge that he had once been would invoke some darkness, violate some pact. Still, on the night of the Friggablot every May, after honoring their mother with dinner and gifts, the twins would slip into the wolf-woods to light a sacred fire for their lost Sven. He never found it, no matter where they camped.

Eirik’s nighttime routine was a quiet one, as was Eija’s. They shared a dinner of beef stew and bread, and Eirik brewed them warm root tea as the sun sank. Wordlessly, they washed the dishes side by side with Eija scrubbing and her brother drying, and he pressed his lips to her temple before they separated for the night. “Drom sott,” were his only words, and she smiled faintly, squeezed his hand. Hausblot had already passed and the nights were going brisk and chilly, but their northern blood was ready and she didn’t bother leaving the woodstove lit. Instead, she waited for Eirik to finish his bath before taking command of the upstairs bathroom herself, the scent of his wood-and-mint soap lingering soothingly. 

She’d cleaned and laid out the old furs for her bed the month before, in preparation for northern Minnesota’s half-year deep freeze, but even snuggling down under at least ten pounds of fur and fabric couldn’t lull her to sleep. Normally this was not an issue for her, but a buzz filled her brain that wouldn’t be silenced even as the night wore on. It was around midnight that she finally abandoned all pretense and let her mind find Eirik, who was not in his bed. He was in fact, directly over her head.

The roof of their log home was flat to the east side and angled to the south, with a lip of log rising up around the perimeter that acted as a sufficient barrier to prevent one from rolling off in their sleep. This had led to some years of the twins sleeping on the roof when there was no rain predicted, and she found him up there several minutes later via the ladder hooked to her bedroom window that only asked for a little swinging and dexterity to get there. The air was sharp and cool, the sky swirling dark, the milk-dense moon casting the world in a pearl glow. An icy, pine-sharp breeze bit through her soft pajamas, and she shivered, tiptoeing across weathered roofing to him.

He’d laid out all of his own thick bedding, his pillow, and in his flannel pajama pants and long-sleeved black henley he looked as comfortable as anything indoors. Eija tossed her own pillow, managing to land it just beside his head so that he didn’t stir, but when she crawled into their now-shared nest of furs and blankets he silently slid an arm around her shoulders to draw her close. His heartbeat steadied under her cheek when she rested her head on his chest, the cool air sweeping out toward the woods unable to cut into the warmth of them, and finally she slept.

A cold, gray-soft dawn had broken when she next opened her eyes, the loss of Eirik’s soothing heat abruptly jarring. He was sitting upright beside her, leaning forward a little and peering out toward the woods. She opened her mouth, but before a breath escaped her he silenced her with a raised hand and pointed. “Look.” His voice was a whisper, strange considering that they were at least ten miles from their closest neighbor. The word floated away from his lips on a cloud of steam as it met the frigid air, his breath dissipating even as she obeyed.

The tree line of the woods surrounding their house began after roughly half an acre of wild growth that served as something of a kitchen garden - their parents had taught them how to grow potatoes, carrots, turnips and herbs to sustain them when trips into town became a snow-packed luxury in the winter months. Eirik’s pale eyes were fixed upon the space now, and after a moment of bleary adjustment, Eija came to understand why. A small collection of people were emerging into the burgeoning light, spilling out from the woods like a tiny swarm of rolling bugs out from under a lifted rock. They were all in dark hooded robes obscuring their faces, but their heights suggested men, women, maybe even children.

“What were they doing in our woods?” Eirik’s hand tightened around her forearm, where it had fallen moments before, and he shook his head to silence her. No one had noticed them yet, they were likely too far away. There were at least ten of them, and the way they moved together felt familiar. A rival pack then, maybe the ones who had challenged their father for his alpha position and killed Sven - laughing Sven -years ago. Eija’s teeth bared themselves and she tensed all over, but Eirik was only alert, watching. The group slowly broke apart, crossing their land on silent feet in the earliest possible morning, several heading west toward the Lost River, others east into town. It wasn’t until the last of them was no longer visible that Eirik seemed to exhale, lifting his hand from Eija’s arm.

Something about what they’d seen felt profoundly wrong, despite the robed figures having done nothing particularly threatening. “It wasn’t a blot,” Eirik said quietly. “Hausblot’s done, they’re quite late if they’re observing out there at this point.”

“Erik the Red’s day?”

“Couple of days too early. Maybe. I don’t know.”

They rolled their bedding in silence and carried the piles back into the house through her bedroom window, where Eirik laid them neatly back across their beds. He slept below Eija’s attic room, down the hall from their parents’ empty bedroom. She realized as she was inhaling deeply of the cold forest scents still clinging to her furs that part of her had hoped their parents would be among the strange hooded figures, on their way home from a few months with the pack. But none had crossed the kitchen garden to enter their house, and some natural instinct had held her back from calling out to the group to ask for them.

[sharpenurdamnknife]

She shook her head at his apology and moved to keep playing with his hair, a thoughtful look passing over her face.  “I guess you wont think I’m crazy…I mean you hunt monsters…”. It sounded a bit like she was trying to talk herself into telling him…and it was working. 

She let out a long breath.  “This house is…well its old.  And out family is old.  They did bad things and bad things happened here.  When I was little, I had a nanny who would tell me the stories- not the truly gory ones but they had too because I was seeing some of the people that died here.” 

Her long throat worked.  She was embarrassed of their family history, as she should be.  “I had a great great grandmother that…well she did bad things to slaves.  Like all slave owners really did.  She’d bring her sisters and friends over to do it too- sometimes to watch and make a show of it.  That’s the story anyway. One of them put a curse on the women in our family line.  Its in our blood, so we’ll never forget.  I’ve seen them since I was a little girl.  My dad didn’t because…well because the curse wasn’t on the men; just on the ones who made gore.  At least that’s the story.” 

‘When I was little, one of them tried to get me to fly with them.  I tried to jump off the roof.  My Nanny grabbed me before I could thank god but- she knew it would happen again.  She practiced Hoodoo and called this women that lives out in the swamps.  They put up charms all over the house.  She started teaching me to make symbols and protection bags.  When my parents found out, god fearing Christians they are, they fired her.  She was just gone and I was seven maybe?  I didn’t know much.  But they had put enough up that it protected the house- for a time.”  She reached into her shirt and pulled out a tiny draw string bag, so he could see.  It wasn’t just the house that was haunted- it was them.

“When Cassie was born though and Dad made mom raise her, I knew what was coming. I tried to learn more but I’ve never been good at it.  And they really like children.”  She admitted with a little bitter chuckle.  She finally looked back down at him, embarrassed but still fierce.  “They deserve their vengeance.  But I’m not going to let them take it from Cassie.” 

Devlin noticed the subtle shift in Piper's demeanor and the slight drop in her smile when he asked about ghosts. He could sense her discomfort and didn't want to push her further. He shifted his position slightly, giving her space and meeting her gaze with empathy in his eyes.

"I apologize if I touched on a sensitive subject. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Devlin said softly. "I'm genuinely interested in understanding different aspects of the supernatural world, including ghosts."

He paused for a moment, giving her the opportunity to decide whether she wanted to share more or change the subject entirely. He was there to listen and support Piper, and hoped he can make her understand that. Then again, Devlin also knew the importance of giving her space and not prying into personal matters unless she felt comfortable discussing them. After all, it involved Cassie, Piper's little sister.

"But I respect your boundaries, and if you'd rather not discuss it, we can move on to a different topic."

@sharpenurdamnknife

[stopbeingabigot]

So I've thought about this for a while and even though there are other posts like this I'd thought I'd make another post how to spot a terf/ gender critical radfem.

It is hard to spot a terf or gender critical radfem if they aren't being obvious about it such as making their url something to do with radical feminism or have it in their bio ect ect. So here are other ways to know!

First and I know this has been pointed out many times before but its important to search on their blog for keywords such as terf, radfem, radfem safe, trans ect.

Radfem & terfs who want to hide themselves blend in by rebloging basic feminist ideas mostly. And sometimes its really hard to pinpoint them due to things that aren't necessarily radfem ideology however a majority of radfems believe in this or do this.

Vagina art & ovary art are wonderful however ovaries art or vagina art are commonly used as pfp or headers, or all over terfs blog. Of course you can enjoy it as well and do the same thing but this is popular in terf/radfem spaces because " only women have ovaries " We don't like this quote because not all women are born with ovaries and this might make them feel disincluded with women and transmen with ovaries might feel uncomfortable with this statement since they aren't women yet they have ovaries. So if you enjoy this artwork quite a bit make sure its obvious in otherways that you are not a terf such as in your bio or whatever.

Another terf/radfem believe that isn't necessarily a terf/radfem ideology but a majority of them share this opinion is, they tend to hate all religion because they believe any and all religion is oppressive towards women. Religion can be oppressive towards women however I realize (and I think the majority of "libfems"* also realize) that a lot of religions are almost "changing" some of their beliefs to be more inclusive and less judgmental. I personally have been to a newer Christian church that was refreshingly not as strict. There are also other branches or sectors of religion that are not as strict as others. I also realize that women are now able to choose what religion they believe in if any. I'd also like to point out maybe to the terf whos stalking these tags reading this I am a practicing witch, and I see some of you are too and although witchcraft in itself isn't a religion, or has to be connected to a specific one, it is religious act to be praising a certain god/goddess/deity.

Another thing to watch out for is swerf & anti porn rhetoric since this is also a common topic in terf/radfem spaces. I am not anti sex work, I want sex work to be safe and not a discriminatory status. I understand that a lot of pornstars have been mistreated but that doesn't make me want to end it, I just want better treatment for them. I want them to raise the age of actors of porn so they can no longer get away with these "barely legal" and videos tagged with teen because I do believe that these types of videos normalize pedophilia. I also believe that sexwork seems interesting towards teens thats are trying to just escape their family, I mean heck I've personally thought like that in the past but I want to rid of that because sexwork should be something you genuinely want to do and yes I've heard plenty of sexworkers saying this is sincerely something that I enjoy doing but it isn't for everyone which is why it shouldn't be something you go into with the intention of trying to escape an abusive family or whatnot. Mia Khalifa said that video that had made her famous she felt pressured to sign a contract that she didn't truly understand the same day of shooting. I want to do away with that, pornstars deserve to have the time to look over a script and contract with a lawyer. Pornstars also deserve much more money then they make as they only receive a very small percentage and since they are risking their health to make these videos healthcare is also a must!Sexwork has also changed dramatically even within the last decade. Webcaming and sights like onlyfans make it easier for sexworkers to walk away from big brand porn companies and control their own content and get paid what they feel is deserved. I also have more opinions on other branches of sex work but since this rant is so long already It's time to finish up. Swerfs need to realize that they are never going to put a stop to sexwork completly and it is better to focus on making it safer then attempting to outlaw it. Also imo the attempt to stop it reinforces the stigma that society has towards sex workers which I also want to stop because sex work deserves to be treated as any other work so that if a sex worker wants to one day become a teacher or doctor or whatever else they don't get discriminated against it for it.

That's currently all I can think of right now but this post will have additions once I see some more common topics of terf/radfem spaces. My opinions on said common topics are added to at least attempt to eliminate any radfems going "well why don't you believe in this seems pretty bad that you don't" type of discussion I know that this wont completely stop terfs/radfems from attempting to derail this post with their arguments but I've said what I've said and won't change my mind on any of it.

* libfem is in quotes in a previous paragraph because I think a majority of us started out liberal but have since gone further left but there isn't another word for us feminists who don't agree with radfem ideas other than libfem.

[woossexyponytail]

Shadow Born, Chapter 5, How it all began.

Masterlist.

We made our way home. Auntie already waiting for all of us at the front door.

"Come in, come in darlings" auntie said as we all followed her to the kitchen.

The guy's looked around the building, being their first time in the house. Yeosang almost walked in to Leviathan stand, he hoowd at him, peeking at Yeosang's head. Ducking and jumping away, he freaked out until he saw it was an owl. Wooyoung watching the whole thing pointing and laughing at Yeosang.

Though then Wooyoung walked in to Vinegar Tom cage, as he slithered up to Wooyoung. He turned around seeing the snake and screamed as he ran behind Hongjoon. Yeosang laughed back at Wooyoung as I rolled my eyes at the stupid scene and Yunho chuckled at the two. Auntie made us sit down in at the dining table.

"A nice pot of calming tea might help soothe all of your nerves." Auntie said going over to the kettle to make us tea. Auntie placed the cups down on the table for us.

"Thank you auntie but my nerves are perfectly fine. Which is more than I can say for you lot. Running around like headless chickens." I said grabbing my cup and taking a sip.

"So can someone please explain to us what the hell happened?" Hongjoon asks looking around at the three of us waiting for an explanation. "Yeah and why was I able to summon a a demon?" San asked looking confused, he looked up at me and I couldn't help but look away, I don't want to be the one to tell him.

"We are not human but something called shadow born we have magic in our blood" auntie said as she sat down with us to explain. "Shadow born? What does that mean?" Wooyoung asked looking around at us.

"Like witches?" Jongho asked grabbing his cup and taking a slow sip. "In other words, yes" Yunho agreed nodding his head.

"Shadow born, How is that possible?" Hongjoon asked rubbing his head, "Well I'm hoping you all know your Christian study's" auntie said looking around at the guys.

"Like God?, Satan?, heaven and hell?" Yeosang asked raising an eyebrow at that. "Yes exactly. Shadow borns where born from fallen angels millions of years ago" auntie told them.

"Fallen angels?" Wooyoung asked I could feel his eyes burning in to me, I just rolled my eyes. "Fallen angels are  angels who were expelled from heaven. The literal term fallen angel used to describe angels who were cast out of heaven, or angels who sinned. Such angels often tempt humans to sin." I said shrugging at them.

"So Shadow born are angels?" Yeosang asked eyes wider then I've seen, his mouth dropping open.

"It's a little more complicated. You see it started as a war in heaven between  angels led by the Archangel Michael against those led by the dragon, identified as lucifer the morning star or the devil, who was defeated and thrown down to the earth." Auntie said.

"The motif of a heavenly being striving for the highest seat of heaven only to be cast down to the underworld." I said, just then I heard a meow, looking over Stolas came running over and jumped up on my lap.

"Yep he was cast down then mocked by God. 'How you have fallen from heaven, morning star, son of the dawn! You have been cast down to the earth, you who once laid low the nations! You said in your heart, 'I will ascend to the heavens; I will raise my throne above the stars of God; I will sit enthroned on the mount of assembly, on the utmost heights of Mount Zaphon. I will ascend above the tops of the clouds; I will make myself like the Most High.' But you are brought down to the realm of the dead, to the depths of the pit. Those who see you stare at you, they ponder your fate: 'Is this the man who shook the earth and made kingdoms tremble, the man who made the world a wilderness, who overthrew its cities and would not let his captives go home?'

Once on earth he created his own religion, satanism. Leading many angels that stood by his side in the war to become followers once again." Auntie explained.

"Shadow borns are descendants from fallen angel's, we have angel blood that allows us to step foot in holy lands. God believes shadow borns are abominations" Yunho said as he stood up and grabbed some crisps from the cupboard.

"Abominations?" San asked his eye glued on to Stolas as he leaned over and scratched behind Stolas ear, the cat started purring.

"Haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are swift in running to mischief, a false witness who utters lies, and one who spreads strife among brothers." I told him watching as Stolas jumped over to San and sat on his lap.

"So sixteen years ago God's plane started and sent his disciples down to earth to exterminate all shadow borns, which is why so many people died in the attack here, one of them being your farther, San." Auntie said her voice low and soft, looking over sadly at him.

"My...my farther?" San froze looking over at auntie shocked about that, I watched closely as I saw some tears in his eyes, I rubbed his shoulder as he looked up at me, a sad smile now placed on him lips.

"You are half shadow born, that's why you were able to summon that demon" auntie explained. "Jongho is a full shadow born, but no one knew so both of your magic was dormant for being suppressed for so many years" she said walking over to the sink.

"And how do we get our magic back?" Jongho asked eyes wide with excitement. "You little one have to cast a spell, any really. But you are a little harder to deal with, after all you need someone to do a reborn ritual for you. Most likely Yn." Auntie explained further rubbing her chin.

"WHAT!?" I said as I chocked on my tea not expecting auntie to say something like that. "A reborn ritual? What's that?" San asked now looking back over to me.

"Auntie that's really dangerous-" I ignored San's curious eyes as I looked over at auntie, but then Yunho interrupted me. "Not to mention really intimate" he said chuckling at the situation, I slapped him at the back of the head.

"Uhm what!?" San asked eyes wide again as he looked over at Yunho who was now rubbing his head. "EXACTLY!? No absolutely not, I'm not doing it" I told auntie crossing my arms.

"I think it should be up to San if he wants to do it or not, right Yn?" Auntie asked, I slumped down in my seat getting uncomfortable.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

After that auntie sent the guy's home safely as I started walking to my bedroom. Yunho came running up behind me putting his hands on my shoulders and started jumping.

"Today was soo fun! best Halloween ever!" Yunho yelled as he carried on jumping over to his room, once he got to his door he turned around and smiled at me.

"It's nice that we've got some good friends here" he said and then giggled as he said night and closed his bedroom door. I sighed and made my way to my room closing the door, Stolas jumped up on the bed meowing.

"I don't care if you like San, I'm not going to do the reborn ritual" I told him crossing my arms, Stolas meowed again, "No you know what I would have to do, we're not even that close" I explained.

"What do you mean he likes me?" I asked glearing at the cat as I sighed and sat down on my bed, Stolas jumped up on my lap meowing again, "No I didn't see him blushing, and No he wont text or call me soon" I said rolling my eyes.

Just then my phone started ringing. Getting up and walking over to my phone that was charging, I picked it up and saw who was calling, my breath caught in my throat as I saw San's name.

"I hate when your right" I sighed glaring at Stolas as he meowed and walked over to me. Clicking the green button I put the phone to my ear.

"Hey Yn it's San" I heard, I took a breath to cool my nerves, 'nerves? Why was I so nervous?' I thought shacking my head.

"Hey San, what's up are you okay?" I asked wondering why he called, San was silent for a little while before he spoke up again.

"Uh about the reborn ritual, can we meet tomorrow so I can talk to you about it?" He asked, I agreed and told him where to meet and what time, after that we hung up.

Putting my phone back down, I looked over at Stolas as he meowed at me, I rolled my eyes at him, "Yeah yeah, shut up" I told him as I started to get ready for bed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

[candyclan]

Coming out letter to my mom. (FTM) At the start of my transition, I wanted to go by a name that started with an “A”because my birthname did. All the rest of it is basically the same.

THE TRUTH:

I didn’t scream “I am a boy” at my parents. Honestly, my mother (specifically) controlled a lot of what I did, who I hung out with, and what I wore as a child. I believe she has/had an idea about what she wanted out of a daughter since I was born, and really just lived through me. I think she eventually had to give me room to make my own decisions, later in life. I didn’t come out until I was 16, although I had spent 6 months prior to even coming out thinking about my gender identity. I was extremely sheltered. I want you guys to know that I didn’t know what being transgender was until I was a freshman in high school and met my best friend (who is STILL MY BEST FRIEND TODAY) who identified as Non-binary gender fluid. I had never really met someone AFAB that lived to be anything other than female. With that came the knowledge that sometimes, men don’t necessarily have to have penises and I can wear whatever I’m comfortable with. I used to be religious in middle school (raised Christian) but I never found god. It never made sense to me how so many people can put their faith in other people’s ideas of what god is (the Bible) but not listen when their real CHILD comes to them and tells them that they feel uncomfortable in their gender identity. I also came out as bisexual in middle school, after meeting a girl I had a fancy for. To which my mother sobbed and cried and asked how she had failed as a parent. I remember loving pink, it was my favorite color. Pink, purple, blue. My top 3. Now it’s blue, pink, purple but basically the same. I had a pink room, loved hello kitty, let my mom curl my hair with little curlers at night so I could wake up and be somebody different the next day. My brother played with carebears and my Barbie dolls more than I did as a child. I remember a toy gun and handcuffs. I was fairly experimental as a child, I did: Girl Scouts, swimming, piano, soccer, ballet, cheerleading, and more honestly. I always got “boy” toys at McDonald’s (I mean cmon they’re cooler) I just was kinda everywhere. I feel like that’s easier for someone AFAB to be. My brother was harassed by my family for liking girly things but I was never shown that I couldn’t like stereotypical “boy things” by extended family. My mother however in the line at McDonalds I could never forget, turned and looked at me (baseball cap backwards tank top and shorts)and said “So, what?” “Are you batting for the other team” implying that because of the clothes I liked to wear I would be a lesbian. My mother (like I said, kinda controlling and extremely narcissistic) when I was allowed to cut my hair super short for the first time I was 16. Afterwards she has said things like: “but you’re so pretty how could you have cut your hair” “you looked so nice with long hair” I never felt akin to femininity. I was actually VERY uncomfortable with it. I hated being the “weaker” gender. I never wanted my nails painted. It was torture. I acted like makeup and and nail polish was torture, the hairbrush was my enemy. I used to just put my hair up in a low ponytail every day as I got older. I knew she’d never let me cut it all off. Basically, other than wanting to grow up strong and tough and not liking to be treated like a female, I was female. There were parts of being female I didn’t really have a problem with, and honestly that’s why I didn’t come out for so long. I wasn’t in a house or raised by people I knew would accept anything other than me being their “little girl” I was a daddies girl. So between my lack of understanding of where my feelings towards my gender roles were coming from, being encouraged by my family to be girly, not being exposed to gender diversity (or anything queer), and my controlling mother, I remained in the dark about who I was.

TRIGGER WARNING:::(abuse)::::: I was never close with my mother, and actually hated her growing up. To this day she is the most judge mental, self-centered woman I know. My father was funny, charismatic, and lost his shit sometimes. I like to say, 90% of the time he was amazing. We made jokes and could literally finish each other’s sentences. But honestly my father, 10% of the time was abusive. Most of my abuse in my life was covert (narcissistic abuse from my mother) and verbal/emotional/barely physical abuse from my father. He’s 6”3’ 350 lbs and very loud and scary, especially to a young child. He punched a hole in my wall, he threw a remote at a wall and shattered it to pieces, he threatened to kill my dog with a baseball bat in front of me. Which I swear to god he would have done if I wasn’t holding my dog, protecting him. These moments were few and far between, but they were riddled with insults and almost always left me with less than I started with. My father did spank my brother and I, and one time he clapped my brother so well that he left a purple hand mark on his butt. My mother told my father she’d take us away if that happened again. My father never left marks. He never had to, he was so big and would just get up in my face and scream at me. He made me feel helpless. Because he was invading my space I felt physically threatened, and he never actually had to touch me and leave bruises because that threat was already implied by invading my space. I was so young, but I always knew my family wasn’t right. Finally at 16, I stood up to my father for the first time. I didn’t care if he was bigger than me, I didn’t care if I would lose, I was willing to fight for me. Anyway, long story short the police were called because we were screaming at each other in front of his apartment building. I’m not going to say I didn’t fuck up as a teenager, but I never deserved the pressure and the abuse he was dishing out and had dished out my whole life. I knew that. I cut him out of my life just after turning 16, by then I had been questioning my identity. It became easier after leaving my father to fall into who I was. My father is FAIRLY religious and my mother claims to be but she never talks about god, she never prays, and now that my father and her are divorced I don’t think she’s been inside a church since. Losing my father was a lot, despite his abuse he and I were really close and had really similar personalities. The reality of abuse isn’t “well, now I see them as an abuser so now none of that good stuff is left it’s all tainted” I had to struggle with losing someone very important in my life at a young age, for myself.

Arguments against me being trans:

My family has been a bit divided in responding to me coming out. By now, it’s been about 4 years.

My mother and her side of the family are in denial. They don’t understand how I can’t be a “lesbian that just likes boy things”. They don’t use my name or pronouns.

My father, what little communication I have with him now, is bewildered. He and I had a discussion this past Christmas where I brought up what his abuse did to me mentally and he apologized but then tried to say “well what about your part in all of this” and said that I was hanging out with crazy depressed people, cutting myself, doing drugs, (I was smoking weed and I’ve tried acid like once piss off) and was sneaking out. Yeah. I did do all of that BUT GUESS WHAT. IM 20. I go where I wanna go. I fuck who I wanna fuck. I smoke what I want and guess what? It’s not any different from when I was 16 except now I don’t have parents up my ass telling me what to do. His argument basically was that I need to own up to what I did too and that fucking angered me. You don’t apologize and then go “well what about you” that’s not an apology. That’s deflection and honestly I don’t think I need to apologize because my parents were super controlling. I was just trying to do what I wanted and they didn’t like it. He and I have talked about me being trans and he pretty much thinks I’m certifiable. Doesn’t use my name or pronouns.

My brother: Ethan, my brother and I have always been close. He’s 17 now, and he had a different reaction to me being trans. Of all of my family he was the most receptive to my pleas of gender dysphoria and he suffers with anxiety so he gets stuff. But alas, after asking him if he’d call me by my name and pronouns (after 4 years of being out) he thinks that I am the one that has an issue with society. I told him I was starting T soon and he said: “Hrt won’t lessen all the things that come with being transgender. If you feel like doing hormones is the best for you then do it, but from a logical standpoint I think there just needs to be more thickening of skin” he claimes that if I try hard enough I could be fine living as female. Doesn’t use my name or pronouns.

None of my family supports me. None of my family understands. And none of them ever will. I have been out for four fucking years. I can’t tell you how frustrating family rejection can be. I have cried so much at the idea of not having a supportive family. I feel like I was ripped away from a beautiful life somewhere and thrust into this mess.

Honestly though, it doesn’t matter, the world keeps spinning and I keep finding people who love and accept me for who I truly am. I have made peace with my family’s lack of acceptance. It’s made me stronger and more compassionate towards others. Made me want to be better than them. I am actually going to start hormones soon, and on top of other fears I have, will be cutting my family out of my life. I can’t be 25 with a full beard and getting misgendered by my family. I can’t do it. They may feel like I’m going too far, that I don’t have to do this, but I do. I’m not doing this because I didn’t get too much attention as a kid or my mom favored my brother over me, I’m not doing this because it’s cool, I’m not doing this because I’m bored, I’m not doing this because I hate myself or anyone else. This is AFFIRMATION. Sometimes, cutting people who can’t see you for who your really are out of your life is affirming too.

Guys, girls, people, keep your head up. Things get better, I know. I thought life was never going to get better so I know that’s what it can feel like. But it does. Never ever let someone control your life or who you are. You’re beautiful/handsome/amazing! You deserve to be comfortable in your own skin and to love who you are. I am getting there, we all are.

Love,

Tanner M.

[owakoblack-portspa]

A Dream of Bethlehem

Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers

Pairings: Knights Hospitaller x Knights Templar; Prussia x South Italy

Characters: Teutonic Knights/Prussia (Gilbert),  Knights Templar (Chris),  Knights Hospitaller (Giovanni),  Kingdom of Sicily/South Italy (Lovino)

1

It is not a very good day to go to Acre, not a very good day at all, people warn little Gilbert. The deeper you go into the city, the more dangerous it becomes, people say. But I am a knight, I am not afraid, Gilbert braces himself. He has seen blood flowing like a river, he has seen corpses piling up a mountain, but he has never seen a hell like this, right in the heart of the capital of the Holy Land. In the streets of Acre, where Christians fight Christians, where brothers kill brothers, homicide and fratricide become natural, even though themselves are not natural at all--it is not a holy land, it is a wild world inhabited by evils. To Gilbert’s utter disgust, after the fall of the Genoese flag, advance the crimson Hospitaller banner and a group of knights in black uniforms into the burning street. ‘Wait, can’t you spare the citizens’ houses?’ Gilbert stands in front of the charging army, but he is unwilling to draw up his sword. ‘And can’t you see the Venetians are our enemies? Step aside, child!’ a tall Hospitaller waves his naked sword towards the little albino. A heavy sound of two clashing swords--a white knight shields Gilbert from the gigantic man, and a string of blood instantly spills onto the red petit cross embroidered on the chest. Even though his left palm is pierced by the sword, and an ugly, bloody hole appears as his enemy’s sword is swiftly and cruelly drawn away, the knight does not show any sign of fear, and quite on the contrary, his angelic face still keeps on smiling. ‘Brother Chris!’ ‘Christien!’

Two boys cry out at the same time. As Gilbert is lying on the ground and Chris is standing in front of him to protect, Giovanni appears just in time, his handsome face furious and sweaty. ‘Stop! The little one is the Teutonic Knights! Our ward!’ Giovanni shouts angrily to the tall Hospitaller. The anonymous Hospitaller sheathes his sword immediately, despite Giovanni the teenager looks much younger than him. ‘I’m sorry, Your Eminence,’ the Hospitaller now looks pallid and trembles like a leaf, ‘I didn’t mean to hurt His Eminence the Order of the Temple, but...’ ‘It’s nothing.’ Chris waves his injured palm impatiently to everyone, smiling as usual, ‘I love playing the role of a martyr. I am so glad that I protected little Gil, in spite of the fact that YOU are his guardian, Gio.’ Giovanni can tell the satire in Chris’ words, but he is not going to argue with a wounded person--after all, his another profession is doctor. ‘Let me see your wound, Christien.’ Giovanni’s voice becomes softer, but firm. ‘I’ve told you it’s nothing.’ Chris’ face becomes paler as he draws his sword in a position of defence, his flaming purple eyes threatening, ‘If you dare to touch me, I’ll revenge myself on you now!’ Giovanni stops short, staring at the blond with sudden coldness, ‘I won’t if I can.’ Then he turns to Gilbert, and raises up the little boy, ‘Are you alright, Gilbert? I’ve promised the Kingdom of Sicily to take care of you. I hope you’re not hurt.’ ‘Don’t treat me like a child!’ Gilbert’s reddened eyes make him look more like a rabbit, and he jumps high to protest. Giovanni does not take his protest seriously. He simply holds up Gilbert’s clenching hand, and retreats with his army, without casting another look at Chris, who remains standing in silence .

‘Brother Gio, can’t you treat Brother Chris a little better? He has saved me! And of all things, why do you two fight each other? You both are christian military orders!’ At the Hospitaller headquarters, Gilbert enquires. ‘The Knights Templar are stronger than us. If we don’t fight to protect ourselves, we’ll be destroyed by them.’ Giovanni replies calmly. ‘Why do the Knights Templar want to destroy you? Brother Chris in fact is very kind-hearted. Even though he knows I am on your side, he teaches me combat skills...hoops!’ Gilbert just realises that he has leaked the secret between Chris and himself. ‘Gilbert, you know I’m not happy to hear this. I hope you won’t betray me as you’ve developed a good relationship with my archrival.’

It has been a week since Chris was injured, and since that day, Gilbert has been bringing medicine to the Templar castle on Giovanni’s command as a punishment of his ‘betrayal’. What Giovanni requires Gilbert to keep in mind, is that Gilbert must not let Chris know who is actually prescribing medications. However, in the end, Gilbert cannot help telling the truth to Chris, ‘Brother Chris, I really hope you can stop fighting with Brother Gio. You see, he regrets what he’s done to you, and sends...’ ‘I hope Gio is not behind this, otherwise I will not accept medicine from you any more.’ Chris interrupts quickly. ‘Why do you hate Brother Gio so much, Brother Chris?’ ‘I hate him for not sending me medicine, and I will hate him more if he asks you to send me medicine. In sum, I just hate him.’ Chris strokes his bandaged left palm with tender passion, but Gilbert is too young to observe this detail or understand these words.

After this street fight, the two gangs seem to have ceased fire for a while, not only because one of their leaders is injured, but also because the festive spirit is approaching. In the Cathedral of Acre, people busy themselves with the preparation of the biggest event of the year--Christmas. The interior of the church is semi-decorated, and still more flowers and plants are coming. ‘Gilbert, have you understood the ceremony process that I’ve just told you?’ Giovanni bends down to speak in the ear of the absent-minded little knight. Both of them stand beside the alter. Gilbert jumps, and finally turns his attention from revery to the taller knight, ‘Sorry, what did you just say?’ ‘Could you tell me why you can’t take your eyes off the audience seats in the church? Are you expecting someone?’ Giovanni frowns. ‘Brother Gio, do you know if Frater will visit Acre for Christmas?’ Gilbert asks carefully. ‘Yes, the Kingdom of Sicily told so me in a letter. And he will attend the Christmas mass as well.’ On hearing the news, Gilbert reacts dramatically: firstly his jaw drops, then his grin broadens, and finally he raises his hands high up in the air, ‘Hallelujah! What a good tiding!’ ‘Calm down yourself, Gilbert! Shouting is forbidden in the church. And if you don’t want Sicily to be disappointed with you, you have to work hard in preparation, understood? It’s your first time to celebrate Christmas, there’re many things for you to learn.’ ‘I know, I know! I’ll work hard for Frater, and on Christmas I’m going to pay my homage to Frater, and then I’ll become a real knight! I’m so awesome! Everything’s going to be perfect! Kesesese!’ Gilbert laughs happily. ‘Don’t be too proud, Gilbert. You have to work hard to achieve your goal. Remember: no pain, no gain.’ ‘But there’s someone lazier than me! Even though Brother Chris’ wound is getting much better, he never comes to the rehearsal, and he’s going to sing in the choir!’ ‘Christien’s done the mass many times so he doesn’t need much rehearsing, and in fact, I don’t think he wants to see me.’ Giovanni looks at the choir practicing singing in a corner of the church, which is consisted of young boys in white dresses. The most beautiful one is missing, just as he has expected.

2

The Cathedral of Acre has already been enunciated with devout Christians hours before the bells announce the approach of Christmas and the beginning of the Christmas Midnight Mass. The interior of the cathedral is full of the festive spirit, decorated with myriads of flowers, draperies, hangings, ribbons, and candles, making this spacious sacred place shine with all colours of the solar spectrum. Now the congregation is holding its breath to hear the steps of the approaching holy moment, that is to say, waiting for the mass procession enter into the nave. After the bells strike twelve times, silence remains as if time stood still, so everybody turns their head to the church entrance to look for the priests and professed knights. After several seconds pass, finally, to everyone’s relief, the door opens, and a group of people in surplice solemnly walk in. At the head of them is little Gilbert with silver hair and red-pupiled eyes, swinging from side to side a golden, smoking censer in his hands. The little albino holds his chin high and looks straight ahead, so even the distant audience can tell from his rigid movements and his slightly reddened physiognomy that he is at the moment very nervous. Many in the congregation do know that for this new-born German military order, it must be his first time to perform holy services in such a big event, and accordingly they understand his nervousness and cross their fingers to pray for his success in the debut. Among the understanding, kind-hearted people, is Lovino, the Kingdom of Sicily, who comes all the way from Palermo for this special occasion, and who now sticks his little brown head out from the crowd into the aisle covered with red carpets, which makes him so distinct that even Gilbert’s sweat-filmed eyes cannot prevent the little knight from noticing this great kingdom from afar. Consequently, Gilbert starts short, as if petrified, but Lovino is no malicious Medusa--quite on the contrary, he is the most amiable personage here, so he tries to unlock the magic spell by waving his little hand and smiling sweetly to his little knight, to salute, and to encourage him. However, for Gilbert, this is more like an ignition before an explosion than a mere encouragement, for in response, stuffed of energy, he sets himself off high in the air like a rocket, the censer in his hands swinging like a mad turning wheel, spilling hot incense everywhere. All at once a commotion is caused--people sitting nearby the aisle stand up to run, only to find that within such a dense crowd running is almost impossible, thus some panic is caused as well. At this critical moment, Giovanni, who walks beside the bishop in the middle of the procession, dashes out to catch the censer which now is flying out of Gilbert’s hands, and fortunately, after the catch, he is agile enough to regain his balance in time, and stands upright with the golden censer safely contained in his hands. He makes some effort to restrain himself from panting heavily, and immediately resumes his solemn, imperturbable look to hide his shock of this unexpected episode. Realising what has just happened, Gilbert becomes the most panicked person in the cathedral. He dare not look at Lovino’s face to see his disappointment, so he looks down onto the floor, feeling too shameful for himself to move. Seeing this, Giovanni pats Gilbert’s shoulder from behind to urge him to proceed, otherwise the procession would be blocked even though Gilbert is short and tiny. Accordingly Gilbert moves on, and from now on, he becomes half absent-minded for his sense of guilt, head drooping. Despite this, the following process goes on smoothly, the episode is soon forgotten, the audience watch the performance of the servers quietly, listen to the priests’ sermons attentively, and respond by saying ‘amen’ when their heart is quite touched. However, Gilbert’s tribulations are not yet finished. As a novice, he is to give a speech in front of the holy altar, in the face of the public. It is a narration of the nativity, which should have been already familiar to any christian, so before the mass, Gilbert was so confident that he did not bring the script with him. Now, it is high time for Gilbert’s speech, and for the sake of the sense of guilt he is still sweating heavily as if he had just been fished out from the sea: ‘It was...it was in the year of four before Christ, before Christ was born. (A pause.) On the day when Christ was born, Mary found no place to lie down herself and give birth to her child, so she just...she just lied down on the floor, (some hiss from the audience) and she saw stars shining bright in the sky. Oh, I forget to say, (laugh from the audience) there was an angel coming from the sky to tell her that the child is the savior of mankind. So back to the night when Jesus was born, there were three magicians...(somebody hoots)’ Finally Gilbert’s frustrated voice seems to fade away, and people can hardly hear what the little knight is saying, and neither can they see his mouth moving, for he persists in hanging his head down. Lovino, who sits in the front row for the prerogatives possessed by such a great kingdom like him, clasps his hands all the time to pray for Gilbert, and he even dare not bat his big, radiant eyes lest they would distract his knight, but it seems all his prayers are in vain. Giovanni, who stands righteously and solemnly among the priests and servers, is as anxious as Lovino from the bottom of his heart. ‘Can anyone please do something?’ he asked without producing a sound.

‘--Long time ago in Bethlehem So the Holy Bible say Mary’s boy child, Jesus Christ Was born on Christmas day.’

Suddenly, people hear someone singing. At first, people think it is the ringing sound of a crystal stream, for it is so limpid, so pure; and then, when they realise that it is from above, they take it as the voice of an angel, for it is so beautiful and so unearthly, like a beam of light piercing through thick clouds to warm the earth, to fill everyone’s heart with bliss. While the confused audience are looking about themselves, only Giovanni immediately finds out whence the voice is from--he has heard this voice on every Christmas, and yet he still can hardly believe it--as soon as he hears the singing, he raises his head and looks up to the carved balcony facing the altar where he is standing by, and sure enough, he sees a thin, pale figure stand out of the choir boys, beneath the enormous silver organ. It is Chris who is singing. He is clad in white, laced surplice, his pale countenance becomes more tender in the radiance from the white texture, and his soft, curly blond hair makes him shine like a midnight sun. He is not yet grown up, his delicate human form hardly tells his gender, and therefore he looks more beautiful than any man or woman, and so clinks his sweet, heavenly singing voice. Here he stands, so pure he looks, so angelically he sings, even Giovanni has to admit that on this particular occasion, if Chris were not the messenger from God, he cannot tell who this sweet creature could be. ‘It’s the Knights Templar!’ a little girl cries out happily, and her mother quickly quiets her. Even Gilbert looks up from the floor to the balcony gratefully as if he has found his savior, so continues Chris:

‘While shepherds watched their flocks by night Them see a bright new shining star Them hear a choir sing The music seemed to come from afar.

Now, Joseph and his wife, Mary Come to Bethlehem that night Them find no place to born she child Not a single room was in sight.

By and by, they find a little nook In a stable all forlorn And in a manger cold and dark Mary’s little Boy was born.’

The choir boys standing behind Chris, who are also sweet-looking, though not as beautiful as he, begin to sing harmoniously, and all the people in the cathedral sing along:

‘Hark, now hear the angels sing A new king born today And man will live forevermore Because of Christmas day.’

Now everyone rejoices again, because they take part in such a beautiful choir led by an angel, and has never felt so close to God before.

In many aspects, the midnight mass is as successful as last year, so afterwards everybody goes home happily. However, in a dark corner of the sacristy, Gilbert is found sobbing quietly. Because others are gone, only Giovanni and Chris see him. Chris bends down over Gilbert, beaming innocently as ever, and says cheerfully, ‘Gil, don’t cry, it’s Christmas!’ ‘I’m so stupid, I know nothing of Christmas! I’m not fit for being a knight!’ Gilbert tries to conceal his tearful face by burying it between his crouching knees. Even though Giovanni was unhappy for Gilbert’s failures of performance at tonight’s mass, which he believes are the results of Gilbert’s arrogance and ignorance of his persuasion, his benign heart is touched by the little one’s sadness and frustration, so he attempts to comfort Gilbert: ‘To err is human. If you learn from experience, you’ll be forgiven.’ Nevertheless, Giovanni’s austere tone makes Gilbert feel more miserable, ‘Forgiven? Will I be forgiven by Frater? Perhaps I can’t never become his knight!’ ‘Gio, you frightened little Gil!’ Chris criticises his big rival, and continues to console Gilbert by an even more tender voice, ‘come on, Gil, I’ll show you something. I’m sure you’ll learn Christmas by heart. Don’t worry.’ He winks, stands up, and leads Gilbert to the courtyard of the cathedral. Giovanni does not trust Chris, so he follows them into the cool midnight air. Standing under the purple starry sky, Chris brings out from his pocket a plain stone cup. ‘I’m going to use this to bring us to the night when our Lord Jesus Christ was born. You can come with us if you want, Gio.’ ‘Wait, is this...the Holy Grail?’ Giovanni is astonished. ‘Exactly.’ Chris replies matter-of-factly. ‘I didn’t know you possess it.’ Giovanni says darkly, and quickly makes the sign of the cross. In secret, he feels his stomach aching--how come his rival obtains the most sacred relic in the christian world? ‘You don’t have to know everything,’ smiles Chris. It happens very fast. After a flash of blinding light, the three knights are altogether brought to another time and place. The time is still night, but the environment is changed into a dry, rocky wild land. ‘Look! There’s the bright shining star!’ Chris points to the enormous brilliant star hanging in the eastern sky. ‘What does this mean?’ Gilbert is bewildered by this strange environment. ‘Gilbert, how many times have I told you to read the Bible more carefully?’ Giovanni’s austere look makes Gilbert wince. ‘Relax, Gio. It’s the Holy Night, let’s behold the miracle!’ Chris leads the group to walk in the direction of the bright star. After a while, they see a manger at the top of a hill. ‘Is it...?’ Gilbert is shushed abruptly by Giovanni. The three of them carefully approach the manger on tiptoe. The manger basks in the bright shining star right above, so they can see the scene clearly: Mary has just now given birth to baby Jesus, who is sleeping comfortably in his mother’s arms, and Joseph stands by them, watching the baby with great interest and affection. Noticing people approaching, Mary is alert, but as soon as she sees these people are three good-looking young boys in some kind of cassocks, she smiles and gestures them to come closer. ‘Our Lord Jesus, we’ve come to worship you.’ Both Giovanni and Chris kneel down before the little baby who opens his beautiful eyes to look upon them curiously. After realising who the baby is, Gilbert imitates his brothers to fall on kneels, not without clumsiness. Seeing this, Mary smiles affectionately to the timid little knight, and says, ‘thank you for visiting us in such a bleak winter night. Don’t be anxious, little knight, baby Jesus is very happy to see you.’ Gilbert looks up to see Mary’s smiling face, and sees a mother in her, a mother he has never had, or met, in his life. Suddenly, the albino bursts into tears, ‘oh Mother, Mother!’ Mary pats Gilbert’s silver head, speaks to him in a voice so gentle as if singing a lullaby, ‘little child, you have such beautiful hair. Don’t cry, you’ll be loved.’ It is Gilbert’s first time to be praised by someone for his hair--being an albino, he has been jeered and teased all his life. It is not necessary to describe how happy Gilbert is in seeing the Holy Virgin, and he lays his head upon her knees. Meanwhile, Giovanni finds Chris’ pale face full of tears too. Before the little Lord, the beautiful knight clasps his hands tightly while on his knees--he looks so pious, so humble that he makes this moment divine. Unconsciously, Giovanni wears a smile on his face-- O Silent Night! O Holy Night!

On the next morning, Gilbert is woken up by a familiar voice: ‘Gil, wake up! Are you alright?’ When he opens his eyes, he sees Lovino shaking his shoulder anxiously. Thus he sits up abruptly, ‘Frater! Why are you here?’ ‘Dear Gil! I was worried about you so I came to the morning mass early to see if you’re alright, but I didn’t know you slept in the courtyard over night!’ Lovino exclaims, ‘it is not good! You’ll catch cold!’ His puffing face is on the brink of tears. It is Gilbert’s turn to feel worried too, for his heart will break if he sees Lovino cry. ‘Dear Frater, I’m totally fine, so please don’t cry!’ he holds Lovino’s little hand, faking a smile to comfort him, ‘I spent a whole night with Brother Gio and Brother Chris to worship little Lord Jesus in Bethlehem, you have to know how happy I am! Please don’t worry about me!’ ‘Really?’ Lovino’s watery emerald eyes look into Gilbert’s rubies, and he sees truthfulness in them, ‘good, then. But where are Gio and Chris?’ Both of them look around. Beside the wall of the cathedral, they see Giovanni and Chris lying down there, holding each other’s body closely as if to keep warm and sleep more comfortably. Hearing noises, the two sleepy knights are awakened--it is not difficult to imagine the surprised look on their faces. However, instead of letting out a shriek or kicking each other away, in peace, they exchange morning greetings: ‘Morning, Gio.’ Chris smiles like an angel waking up from his sweetest dream. ‘Good morning, Christien.’ Giovanni blushes. He will never admit that it is Chris’ crystal purple eyes that make his heart beat fast, and he feels a little reluctant to let Chris’ warm body leave his arms when both of them get back to their feet. ‘Christien, wait!’ ‘What?’ Chris quickly turns back to face Giovanni, his huge eyes sparkling. ‘I want to apologise for the wound in your palm. I should have stopped my people hurting you.’ Giovanni smites his handsome brow. ‘It’s not your fault,’ Chris smiles mildly, ‘and I want to thank you for healing me.’ ‘You know the medicine was sent by me?’ ‘Of course, do you forget how long we’ve known each other? And as I’m your archrival, who do you think could know you better than me?’ Smiling mysteriously, Chris briskly wheels around. Without knowing why, Giovanni suddenly feels a special attachment to his rival and comrade, so he instinctively follows Chris’ white robe, which is billowing in the wind like an angel’s enormous wings. Later on, in the Christmas morning mass, people are surprised to see the two long-term rivals stand side by side in the procession, and even exchange friendly looks at intervals during the liturgy. ‘It happens once a year that the two great military orders make a truce. After all, it’s Christmas, it’s time for peace, for forgiveness, and for love.’ Among the audience, some Venetians whisper quietly, and then they shake hands with their Genoese neighbours. As for Gilbert, this time, he has done much better especially in the narration of the nativity. When the mass is done and the cathedral becomes empty, he cautiously kneels down before Lovino, ‘dear Frater, I want to be your knight, but I’m not yet perfect--could you wait until I’m fit?’ ‘I don’t need you to be perfect. Whenever you feel yourself is ready, I’ll be ready to take you as my knight.’ Lovino blushes. ‘I promise it won’t be too long, Frater.’ Gilbert tenderly kisses Lovino’s hand.

(End)

[cmyknoise]

Early 1900′s Sanders Sides AU

Okay so, this is kinda weird. Honestly it pretty much stemmed from Patton’s clothing choice, and also that if you look up 1950′s dad, a lot of the formal looking ones look like they could be something Logan would wear. 

I am pretty sure a lot of this isn’t exactly historically accurate. I tried with the time periods and dates, but I’m not all sure what’ll be accurate and what wont be. Honestly it’s for fun....and angst....and an excuse to make Logicality 1950′s dads, as well as Virgil being around when rock and roll and the whole bad/punk movement first rolls in, the coming of Elvis, ect. Also Prinxiety, they’d be young adults with the first LGBTQ+ movements ever so....yeah? This is just for fun, so apologies if things aren’t horribly accurate. I don’t mean to be disrespectful at all with this. If I got things wrong, please correct me and I’ll try and fix it! 

 Feel free to add on! 

!! 1950's AU Thing !!

-Patton grew up with an absent father- not that he had the choice. His father was always drafted to the wars of the time. -Patton was born in 1921. His father survived WWI, came back, woohooed with mom, and they had Patton. -Due to all of the wars and only living with his mother and twin brother (deceit, my name for him is Delyn), they weren't very rich. Patton stopped going to school at the age of 13 (this is in 1934) to help support their family. He was a newspaper boy, did chores, and for a short while factory work. -His education was limited, he doesn't know how to read much above 5/6th grade level, and he can't do math. -Found out he was gay in 1936. Being raided in a early Christian home he was ashamed and didn't dare come out. He found out when a cute older boy pulled him aside after factory hours and they kinda kissed, a lot (not much more than make-outs happened.) That said kid got drafted two weeks later for military, never saw him again. -He lived through several wars. America went into WWII, when he was just 20. -His father was drafted, and died soon after. -He meets 20 year old Logan out in the streets. It was nighttime, and there were major war threats. Patton had went out on a grocery run, Logan was exiting a bookstore. One of the first bomb threats happened while they were out. Patton and Logan both saw each other on the streets, complete strangers. Patton was close to home so he drug Logan on with him to their bomb shelter. Nothing ended up happening, false alarm, but he and Logan were pretty inseparable. since -Patton was drafted in 1943 to go over seas. He was unable to stay for long due to a major head injury, and also the fact that his sexuality was found out. He luckily healed pretty fine, it did worsen his eyesight and balance. He returned and much of the town he was from knew he was gay. He dealt with slander and names, but he was home and that’s all he could care about.

-Logan wasn't drafted because he has a few medical problems. -Logan had grown up on a farm and did heavy work from a young age. He has a fucked up back, and horrible eyesight. -He ran away and was put in an orphanage from the age of 10-17. During that time he worked in factories. -He ran away because he wanted an education. The nice orphanage lady offered to teach him to read. He's pretty fluent and knows a lot pertaining to science.

-Logan told Patton in private that he too was gay shortly after Patton came out to the town. Patton helped him keep a secret. -They moved into a house in the suburbs together shortly after, still in their early 20's. No one knew for sure that Logan was gay, so he was the one to go out and get what they needed, work, etc.  -They can't get married, especially publicly. But, they know. -Can't adopt kids either, even though Patton desperately wants a family.

-Logan gets them a cat and they name him Thomas ( ;) ) -Good news though (I mean, not really /good/) Logan's sister (he has a sister-) had a kid a year before -She ended up passing away, and Logan was first to get custody of the kid, Virgil (at this point he's only 1, Logan and Patton are both 24, it's 1945) -Technically, they got to keep him :))

-Bad news, they are still constantly under the threat of bombs  -Threats get worse with introduction of atomic and nuclear bombs -One of the worst happens in 1947. Virgil is 3, and Logan and Patton are 26 -Think of the beginning scene of Narnia where there's heavy gunfire, planes, etc -They were in the bomb shelter for days, Logan and Patton both practically clinging to their 'son', fearing for their lives -They manage to survive. -WWII ends, so fear slowly dies down, but it's always there, especially after America enters the Korean war and Cold war in later years

-Virgil is 5 in 1950, Logan and Patton are 29. -He goes to school. He's instantly one of the 'delinquent kids'. Oof one of the first punks at only 5. -Logan and Patton love him dear, and happily raise him, and vow to protect him at any cost.

-Logan is still in the closet about being in love with Patton. The only ones who know are Patton and Virgil. -Virgil doesn't talk much at school, but he does a lot at home. -Virgil calls Logan a bunch of names. 'Ma' 'Mama' 'Lo' -He calls Patton 'Dad' and other fatherly names.

-Virgil really likes the first comings of rock and roll. -When he turns 8/9, oh boy, it's all over for the 'squares; in school. Instant fan of Elvis -Manages to catch a certain boy's eyes.

-This boy is Roman Prince

-Roman has one mom and mom’s best friend (at least to the public. he’s got two moms. one is his birth mom, the other is her gf/wife)

-He understands the situation of ‘Don’t tell anyone about my parents’ when he finds out about Virgil’s dads

-They’re best buds literally all throughout elementary school, middle school, and highschool

-Boy do these guys not separate. Ever. 

-Roman becomes a local singer/performer. Virgil writes some of his songs. 

-Both were 25 when the first LGBT movements came around, and they sure as hell took part in all they could. 

-Cough cough

-You bet your ass that Patton and Logan got married when it became legal- even though they’d be in their mid 90′s. 

[ophclias-blog]

🤕Hit 👊 or miss😳 I guess 🤔they 👉never ❌ miss, huh 😕😕? You 🙌got 🤪a boyfriend😍, I bet 🎰😶he 😨doesn't 👎kiss 😘😘 ya🤭 mwah💖 😻He 🧐gon' find 🔍🔍 another girl 👶 🤩and he 😮won't😤 miss👌 ya🙀 He 🤤gon' 😲skrrt and hit 👊👊 the dab😎 like 😄😄 Wiz 🤠Khalifa🤑

some background…her parents own some very successful luxury hotels all around the world....her mom was low key a celeb before marrying her dad she was an actress who got famous bc of a Nude scene in one of her movies do with this info what u will SBDJWBJ and her dad was born into an empire of businessmen basically...now they have ophelia ! she has two older sisters who she literally never sees bc they’ve been abroad basically her whole life so thats nice we love abandonment xx 

she had a baby at 15 her baby daddy ? hit it & quit it & her mom was like JSBXJDWBDJ horrified bc shes a Good Christian now ! who only cares abt the family reputation so she sent ophelia to her grandma’s house to have the baby & lied to everyone & said ophelia was in boarding school in france 

JSDBJWBDJW then after the baby was born her mom literally didnt let her have any part in raising the baby & the mom basically just pretends that ophelia’s baby is actually ophelia’s little sister & u know…..this was all…. a lot for a 15 yr old so after the baby ophelia was super disconnected from her home she was never there bc she couldnt like stand to be around the baby bc it brought up a lot of bad stuff for her & now the baby is like five & ophelia has no relationship with her at all like its ////: fun times xx 

SO YEAH SHES GOT A VERY STRAINED RELATIONSHIP WITH HER MOM bc her mom is very much like controlling and manipulative so ophelia was always closer to her dad bc he was softer with her & he gave her more freedom & for a while she at least had him in her corner until he was caught by his assistant embezzling funds…and was threatened by his assistant who was gonna go to the cops

….so he faked an accident & had the assistant killed in a car crash but he needed help covering his tracks so he had ophelia help him by guilt tripping her like “if i go to jail u wont have anyone do u really wanna be left alone with ur mom" … SO U KNOW ! JSDBJSWBDJBWJDB NOW SHES JUST QUESTIONING EVERYTHING AT HOME !

personality wise she is LITERALLY boo boo the fool…..she values other ppls validation WAY too much especially validation from guys whew ! has a super unhealthy relationship with men and is 100% willing to be used by them just to feel needed when i say she is a fool and a CLOWN i mean it she really is especially for dick ! JBSDJBWJDBWJ 

um she is desperate to please and desperate to keep her reputation intact….is literally in the middle of a breakdown because of almost being kicked out from the elites TWICE also bc her dad made her a muder accomplice also bc she is “dating” satan himself….yea…shes way too nice unless u genuinely like have tried to ruin her life or reputation shes probably just a dumb bitch and nice to you ready to be your friend…

honestly shes just the type to constantly make excuses for ppl treating her like dirt bc she wants to be loved and valued we love that ! the only time she gets like . crazy is if her reputation is being threatened then its demon time bitch really made a sex tape to get a professor fired bc she was abt to be expelled … her family name means everything to her ? even though her family sucks ? maybe so ! 

idk what else to say she is genuinely boo boo the fool also the person most likely to gone girl herself JSBXDJSBD she is literally those women who would be diagnosed with hysteria back in the day /:

this meme is literally ophelia at all times

[voulezvous-rpg]

Congratulations, Bee! You’ve been accepted as your original character, The Adevist — Elias Hadley, with a face claim of Tom Austen!

Like I mentioned just a few moments ago, I’m thrilled to be welcoming a couple of patrons to the group, and I couldn’t be more excited about the dynamic that’s coming to life between Elias and Jacqueline. I love me a good god complex, and Elias manifests one in a way you can’t help but adore. That combination of charm and depravity is one that’ll come to life in all sorts of fascinating ways here, and I can’t wait to see what kind of havoc Elias brings to the Moulin, both by his dastardly self and with his equally devilish wife by his side.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name/Alias: bee

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 20

Timezone & Activity: PST, my activity fluctuates heavily – i’m in university, under the school of engineering so i get swamped sometimes, but i’m always on my computer and i try my best to communicate my activity levels to the main/players i write with: anywhere from 4-7/10, i would say!

IN CHARACTER

Character Group: Patron

Character Title: The Adevist

Name: Elias Hadley

FC: Tom Austen

Pronouns: He/him

Age: 35

Occupation: Transportation Mogul/Import and Export of Luxury Goods

How long has your character been around the Moulin Rouge? On and off through the better part of a couple years. Elias was first introduced to the Moulin Rouge by Jacqueline when they had been in France for business, and it quickly evolved into a tradition of sorts, to spend time together and yet separately there. It’s not about the sex – it never is. It’s always about the power, and all the characters he interacts with.

How did the fire impact your character? To say that anything other than his or Jacqueline’s wellbeing matters is to fundamentally misinterpret him – he cares little for things not directly his or hers, and less for things that don’t belong to them at all. The fire was unfortunate, and the lives lost even more so, but it presented a undeniably good business opportunity to invest and to ply his trade – not as much as the main investor, but little tidbits here and there to lay a claim, to possess even just a minor part of the Moulin Rouge: after all, a man in imports is always a good connection to have.

Biography: You are not a religious man – nor was your father, nor his before him. The family, of course, has always laid claim to that title of Christian, because no matter the generation, you are always people of appearances, and “good” is an important mask to wear. But the masks you wear are not to be confused with self, and that is an important distinction to make, and one that many forget to. You have always lived in constant denial about gods, if there exist any other than yourself: you fundamentally disagree that there is any higher power other than yourself in your life. You are your own master: this is what your family has impressed upon you from a young age, growing up in as godless a place as the imperial west. You have the good fortune of being born into it, but before the Hadleys were anything, they were nothings. Your family makes their fortune in gold in the 1850’s, as many people in the west do in that day, but they refuse to slink away even after they gorge their weight in gold; no, they stay and they begin paving the way to connect their fortune all over the continent. First, they own the trains, snaking through plains and mountains, conquering the states – and then it is the ships, starting the slow web around the globe. Your father tells you: never forget that we came from nothing, but never let anyone else remember it. It is something you take to heart. So you continue through your life, eyes and hands raised to the heavens, reaching, ready to grab them and swallow them whole given half the chance – you are as desperately ambitious as a starved man, even as you dress in your tailored suits, and eat the finest foods. This sort of inborn tenacity makes you a difficult man to stomach, and makes it more difficult to achieve your ends, so you add a slick sort of charm to your repertoire, adopting whatever gambit best suits your needs; soon, people cease being people, and become games, become things that you can win at depending on the sort of strategy you approach them with. You have scarcely had a need or want that wasn’t fulfilled, so you’re not entirely sure where the satisfaction in owning things comes from. You know where your deadly pride comes from; it is a family heirloom, carefully passed from generation to generation, Lucifer’s descendants perpetually beholden to themselves. But you suppose possession is another form of pride, and simply accept that people will ascribe it to greed. You do not mind being misunderstood; it is simply fact that you are too much to grasp, sometimes. Eventually, it comes time for you to take a highborn wife to add to your family’s fortune. It will be a marriage of mutual benefits, a mere obligation – the very idea of it bores you, as do most of the potential women you are to wed with. There is nothing wrong with them, per se, and it is not disrespect and disinterest on a personal level; you simply bore of just about everyone and everything. There is a parade of women through your family’s salon, each one different from the last, but no less transparent. You give up on the idea that anyone will ever understand you. But then you hear your parents discussing a new choice quietly in a salon: this change interests you. Words are passed around: French, beautiful, difficult. Each of these things piques your interest: despite the family business of transportation, your father does not like to risk his heir and saddle you anywhere, and the idea of someone from anywhere outside of California is mildly interesting, at the very least. Beautiful, of course, because beauty is of worth to you, but most of all: difficult. This is what ultimately catches your attention, because the well-behaved, docile types that have graced your salon can’t hold a candle to difficult. She is different from the rest, and for that, you think she may be worth a second of your time. When you meet her, it quickly becomes apparent that you were wrong about her, and yet, you have never been so happy about being wholly wrong. Jacqueline is not just worth a second of your time; she is worth all of the seconds you have ever had, and all of the rest to come. She is of a rare sort, and you fancy yourself a collector – this is not to say you are her owner; no, you would hate that. You’re an owner of many things, and to lower her to that sort of banality is an offense to her and an offense to you: she is a rare equal, and thereby, you enjoy having the bits of herself that she allows you to possess. Wife. It is a fine word indeed. And she owns a portion of you in return: husband. You had long since resigned yourself to the word, but she breathes new life into it – it is no longer an empty new moniker for you to add to your list, it is a title you bear with pride, to represent the fact that now an integral part of you is her. Your wedding ring never leaves your finger – you never want the world to forget the woman by your side. Cherchez la femme. Look for the woman. You are sure you love her; there is little you can say to express the appropriate amount of love you bear for her. You have never once believed in a higher power than yourself, and yet, with the introduction of Jacqueline into your life, you see yourself slowly become a religious man, worshipping at the altar of her: she alone lays claim to your zealous devotion, she becomes the religion you grew up without. She challenges you, and she irritates you terribly sometimes, but it never fails to make you love her more than ever – each day is a lesson in how much more you could possibly appreciate her. She introduces you to the Moulin Rouge one day, and it is a whole new component to your marriage, a new facet though it is already multifaceted and unendingly interesting to you. You soon realize it doesn’t matter who you or your wife toys with in the Moulin Rouge, and it becomes a playground, a hunting ground. You still never take your ring off, and it glints with your depravity. Your wife won’t mind? Someone asks. Mind? You laugh. She’d sooner join us than mind. This is a truth for both you and her: it matters little who occupies your time in there, as long as you return to each other, and you always will.

Potential Plot Points: Elias is supremely self absorbed, but has a bit of a nasty habit in appearing he’s not and he has a preternatural love for toying with anyone he sees fit with little to no concern over their well being. I can see him fitting in with all sorts of people simply because he’s amused by them; alternatively, he’s all too happy to take a backseat and watch whatever his wife is doing at the moment: their cruel amusement feeds off one another. Then again, he’s also wont to partake in the same amusements as well.

[oceanwitch]

you said that the dark zodiac is based off of real people you know and characters. is it okay for me to ask the story behind them?

Aries is based on the deviant trope. An uncontrollable individual who lives a hedonistic lifestyle. They indulge themselves on toxic things, such as drugs, alcohol, smoking, etc. They are manipulative, and don’t care about other people’s feelings, especially if it gets in the way of things they desire. So Aries After Dark, I pictured as like that guy or girl at an edgy night club, who is dtf. Down to fuck and/or fight. This is based off of the negative traits of an Aries; dominate, stubborn, short tempered, unpredictable, selfish. I don’t know many aries in person, so it was hard to find inspiration for this based on real people, so I went with character tropes.

Taurus was a little more difficult, so it is loosely based off someone I know who is a Taurus that I don’t like. They’re lazy, and materialistic, and blame other people for their own faults and bad luck. So I combined that person with my character I made in Zodiac as Antagonists series, as a rich, self indulgent, greedy business man trope. I ended up with a character that has a princess/prince complex, that doesn’t really like to do anything, takes what they have for granted, and values materialistic and shallow things in life. Such as jewellery, expensive alcohol, money, etc. Taurus after dark is passive aggressive, sarcastic, and unambitious, and is too stubborn to change who they are, which is the crowning fault of this person I based this on.

Gemini is a complex one. Every bad ex I’ve dated has been a gemini. So in this I rolled them all in one. These people were two-faced, untrustworthy, inconsistent, high strung, fickle minded. As a lot of Gemini’s would testify, they do not like the stereotype that Gemini’s are crazy, or psycho/sociopaths, because their dual personalities and high anxious behavioural issues makes them hard to understand. Which is why I chose that quote “You’re a Psychopath” “I prefer creative”. It just illustrates the opinion of how others see Gemini, vs how they view themselves. So Gemini after dark as a character is a person who is indecisive, and fickle minded. They’re liars and backstabbers because they are incapable of keeping promises, and they know this, so they keep that part of themselves hidden upon first introductions. But they’re also confused by their own self. They don’t know what they want, they dont understand their own emotions. They’re not good with them.

Cancer, as I’ve mentioned, is heavily based off of who I was when I was a teenager and an early adult. So I’ll break down the imagery I’ve used to illustrate this. One thing that cancers are known for is sentimentality. They grow too attached to things. I’ve linked sentimentality with christian imagery, which also symbolizes my struggle with finding myself spiritually through religion. The crown of thorns and the crying Madonna symbolized martyrdom; I kept on sacrificing my own happiness, or rather giving it up. I consensually put myself in pain on purpose. I was drowning in my own pain and emotions, and to deal with that I over indulged myself in unhealthy habits. In the graphic I used smoking as an example, but for me it wasn’t smoking, it was food and drugs and sex. In terms of relationships, I fell in love too fast and too easily, and I would do anything for these people that I fell in love with, even if it meant carving my heart out for them. But as I grew up, and had to live through my share of Gemini’s (read above), I became more and more aromantic. Hence the Love is a lie image.

Leo is another personal one, because this one is talking about a very specific person in my life, who I won’t name, nor share my relation to them. Now I usually get along with leos; the people closest to me are leos. But this particular leo embodies all the negative traits of one. This person believes they are the protagonist of everyone’s story, and everyone else is an antagonist, or a supporting character. They surround themselves with “yes” people, to fuel the illusion that they’re always right and everyone else is wrong. This person does not swallow their pride, and has no intention to. Their pride is the most valuable thing they have, and the only thing that’s important to them. They’re vain, and materialistic. And their claws come out when someone threatens to take away their crown or bruises their pride, or takes something away from them. This person has no problem retaliating and ruining people’s lives. They would set the world on fire if they could. In short, this person is the real life Cersei Lannister.

Virgo I had a little fun with. I had this character idea of a conservative woman that people over look, but is actually a very dangerous person. So I played with the name Virgo, and used Christian symbolism, but I also balanced it with gothic, and witchy aesthetics, and created a story. Virgo’s appearance is very conservative. She’s very critical, and is never in a good mood. But she’s a mason jar that’s been over stuffed with evil that’s about to explode. She’s trying to control these ghosts that stir in her, but every once in a while, when something tries her patience, she acts out. She does not like to be messy, though, so she berates herself afterwards. Virgo after dark is probably one of the very few in this series that has a story behind it. I just visualized a woman in Salem, trying to hide her craft, and being the perfect image of christian puritan woman, but everyone knows there is something dark behind that white lace.

Libra is the reason why I started this series. The most common complaint I’ve seen is that people were growing tired of libra being depicted as light-hearted and soft. So, because of this, I focused on the traits superficial, self-indulgent, and manipulative. Libra’s were also said to be introverts, so I came with the idea of a lone-wolf type. So this aesthetic is inspired by my interpretation of Druella Rosier, Bellatrix Lestrange’s mother. I’ve role played her before, so I was able to draw imagery into this that would relate to her. So Druella, or rather Libra, is a born-rich woman, who is smarter, wiser, and more cunning than people take her for. She doesnt want to live on the name of her father, but make her own name for herself. All her successes are her own. She’s a boss bitch. She gets shit things done alone, and doesn’t need help from others. Libra would destroy your life from the inside out, and it would be right under your nose.

Scorpio’s are my baes. I’ve never met a scorpio that I didn’t like. With that being said, Scorpio’s in a negative light are frightening. They’re very passionate, but because of that they can get obsessive, possessive, jealous, controlling, resentful, suspicious, and dominating. Other people cannot touch what is theirs. What’s worst, is that Scorpio’s are exceptionally mysterious when it comes to emotions and what they’re feeling, so you never really know what they’re thinking or feeling. Scorpio is really based off of every character I’ve ever fallen in love with but would be extremely bad for me. Scorpio after dark is the bad boy that isn’t good for you, and you should not want to be with, and will never change no matter how hard you try. They’ve really sexual, as well, which keys in with the possessive and dominant traits. We’re talking about a Christian Grey type character. But a well written version. Just to make an emphasis of how dangerous this type of person is; most serial killers are born in November, including Charles Manson.

Sagittarius was a bit hard, because the only one that I knew in my life that I didn’t like, did not embody any of the traits of a sagittarius at all, not even the good ones. They were just one blah of a person. But the other ones that I knew, I knew as very adventurous people. They weren’t in the same place for long. So I started to think of any negative traits they had, and that was carelessness and tactlessness. So I constructed a criminal, “dare devil”, type of character that lives outside the law and does what they please. They don’t care about getting hurt, and if something bad happens they just call it part of the journey. The carelessness comes with them not thinking things through, how that this person doesn’t consider how their actions and words could harm other people. They’re knowingly breaking laws and rules, but with their overconfidence, they believe they wont get caught.

Capricorns I’ve always seen as the masculine version of virgo, which already comes with implications. So I based Capricorn after a character who is a capricorn, and that’s Tom Riddle/Voldemort. Capricorn after dark is a malicious figure of power that resides behind the curtains. He is Oz, if Oz was a fascist or the leader of the illuminati. We’re talking about an individual that is dangerous on a global scale. He is both death and the devil, but sees himself as a god. Every chaotic event that’s ever took place in history has been carefully planned and executed by this person, and you have no idea. He is not sentimental, he is not empathetic, he gives zero fucks about anyone. His scale of morality doesn’t exist, he just wants control and power to the highest degree. The kick of it, he doesn’t have to be one person.

Aquarius is the most unique Zodiac. It’s an air sign that’s symbolized by water, for some reason. They’re the dreamers, but I call them airheads. Not because they’re stupid, but because they have thoughts of grander. So for my Aquarius, I brought back from my old series, Zodiac Signs as Protagonists, and put it in the negative. If there was any generation to relate Aquarius to, it would be millennials, because we were born and raised during the rise of the age of Aquarius. So really, this is based off of the negative aspects of my generation. Delusions of grander. Regretting nothing. Unwillingness to conform. Shooting for the stars, and landing in the sun. Aquarius after dark is a person that is a pariah of progressiveness, but they wear that with pride. They believe their views are the correct ones, their way of life is the best way, that everyone else are the insane ones, but at the same time question the vitality of those that begin to sway to their way of thinking. They do not conform, they do not want normalcy of a modern society. Often times they don’t have a job because they don’t want to contribute to capitalism (or rather that’s their excuse), and they are more likely to participate in riots and protests. They believe they are changing the world for the better, one brick at a cop car at a time, but they end up hurting the cause they’re trying to support.

Pisces was pretty simple. This is also another one based off of me. My moon is pisces, so I found this one easy to portray. Pisces and Aquarius are very different. While Aquarius is “woke”, Pisces is living in a willful delusion. They float through life with their eyes closed and disassociate from reality, and make no move to change, even if they live in a constant state of misery. I used drug imagery, because psychological drugs, or downers, allow you to escape from reality and your problems, and bring you into a surrealistic world where real world issues don’t exist. That’s why it’s so easy for someone to become addicted to drugs, because it’s a temporary solution to escape reality, rather than the permanent solution which would be death. Religion has also been used to ignore facts and things you do not want to accept. For example, the idea of heaven was created because people did not want to cope with the fact that one day they will be dead and none of it would have mattered.