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that-spider-witch · 4 years ago

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On “Dead” Cultures and Closed Spiritual Practices: Why Colonialism Is Still A Problem.

Let me start this by saying that, as far as my knowledge of Paganism and Polytheism as a whole goes, I’m what the internet witch community calls a “Baby Witch”. I’m stating this out of the gate because I know there will be lots of people, including witches who have more experience on the craft than me, who might decide to ignore what I have to say based on that fact alone, stating that I’m not knowledgeable enough to give my opinion about this.

Here’s the kicker: I’m a ‘baby witch’, yes, but I’m also a twenty-six year old Venezuelan woman. I’m an adult. I’m Latina. I’m a Christian-raised Pagan,but I’m also a Latinoamerican woman over all other things including that. I grew up on this culture, these are my roots. It is because of this background than I’m writing this post today.

Looking through the “Paganism” and “Witchcraft” tags of this website, I’ve seen a few posts throwing indigenous deities and spirits’ names around on lists alongside deties of open cultures. Yes, you can know better by doing your own research and not going by what just a random Tumblr user wrote on one post (as I hope its the case with everyone on this website), but the fact that pagan beginners are still getting fed misinformation is still worrisome to me.

There’s nothing like reading a so-called expert putting Ixchen (Maya), Xolotl (Nahuatl) and Papa Legba (Vodou) on the same damn list as Norse, Hellenic and Kemetic deities and tagging it on the tags aimed at beginners who might not know better to truly ruin your morning. I’m not mentioning user names here: If you know then you know.

To quote @the-illuminated-witch on her very good post about Cultural Appropriation:

“Cultural appropriation is a huge issue in modern witchcraft. When you have witches using white sage to “smudge” their altars, doing meditations to balance their chakras, and calling on Santa Muerte in spells, all without making any effort to understand the cultural roots of those practices, you have a serious problem.

When trying to understand cultural appropriation in witchcraft, it’s important to understand the difference between open and closed magic systems. An open system is one that is open to exchange with outsiders — both sharing ideas/practices and taking in new ones. In terms of religion, spirituality, and witchcraft, a completely open system has no restrictions on who can practice its teachings. A closed system is one that is isolated from outside influences — usually, there is some kind of restriction on who can practice within these systems.”

A counter-argument I’ve seen towards this when someone wants to appropiate indigenous deities and spirits is to use the “dead culture” argument: Extinct cultures are more eligible for use by modern people of all stirpes. It is a dead culture and dead religion. It would be one thing if some part of the culture or religion was still alive, being used by modern descendants, but the culture died out in its entirety and was replaced, right? They were all killed by colonization, they are ancient history now, right?

Example: “If white people are worshipping Egyptian deities now, then why can’t I worship [Insert Aborigen Deity Here]?”

To which I have two things to say:

Ancient Egypt’s culture was open and imperialistic, meaning they wanted their religion to be spread. This is why Kemetism is not Cultural Appropriation, despite what some misinformed people might tell you. Similar arguments can also be made for the Hellenic and the Norse branches of Paganism, both practiced by people who aren’t Greek/Norse.

Who are you to say which cultures are “dead” and which are not?

Religious practices such as Vodou and Santería certainly aren’t dead, not that it keeps some Tumblr users from adding Erzuli as a “goddess” on their Baby Witch post, something that actual Vodou practitioners have warned against.

Indigenous cultures such as the Maya and the Mapuche aren’t dead, despite what the goverment of their countries might tell you. The Mapuche in particular have a rich culture and not one, but two witchcraft branches (The Machi and the Kalku/Calcu). Both are closed pagan practices that the local Catholic Church has continuously failed to assimilate and erase, though sadly not for lack of trying:

“The missionaries who followed the Spanish conquistadors to America incorrectly interpreted the Mapuche beliefs regarding both wekufes and gualichos. They used the word wekufe as a synonym for ideas of the devil, demons, and other evil or diabolical forces. This has caused misunderstanding of the original symbolism and has changed the idea of wekufe right up to the present day, even amongst the Mapuche people.”

For context, the Wefuke are the Calcu’s equivalent of the Familiar, as well as reportedly having more in common with the Fae than with demons anyway.

This and other indigenous religions are Closed because it is wrong for foreigners to just come and take elements from marginalized groups whom are still fighting to survive and that they weren’t born into. To just approppiate those things would be like spitting in their faces, treating them and their culture like a commodity, a shiny thing, a unique thing to be used like paint to spruce up your life or be special.

I know some of you are allergic to the word “Privilege”, but on this situation there really ain’t a better word to explain it. You weren’t born here, you don’t know what it is like, you are only able to see the struggle from an outsider’s point of view.

If a belief or practice is part of a closed system, outsiders should not take part in it. And with how many practices there are out there which are open for people of all races, there is really no excuse for you to do it.

Why Colonization Is Not “Ancient History”

If you have kept reading all this so far, you are probably wondering “Ok, but what does Colonization has to do with any of this?”

The answer? Everything.

With the general context of culture appropriation out of the way, let me tell you about why the whole “dead culture” argument rubs me the wrong way: Here in Venezuela, we have a goddess called Santa Maria de la Onza, or Maria Lionza for short, whom’s idol statue I have been using to illustrate this little rant. If you happen to know any Spanish, you might recognize the name as a derivative of Santa Maria, aka the Virgin Mary, and you are mostly correct: Her true indigenous name is theorized to have been Yara.

And I say “theorized” because it is a subject of hot debate whether she was really ever called that or not: Her original name, the name by which she was adored and worshipped by our ancestors, might have been forever lost to history.

That’s the legacy of colonization for you: Our cultures were stolen from us, and what they couldn’t erase they instead tried to assimilate. Our ancestors were enslaved, their lands and homes stolen, their artwork and literary works destroyed: The Maya and the Aztec Empire were rich in written works of all kinds, ranging from poetry to history records to medicine, and the Spaniards burned 99% of it, on what is probably one of the most tragic examples of book burning in history and one that people rarely ever talk about.

People couldn’t even worship their own gods or pass their knowledge of them to their children. That’s why Maria Lionza has such a Spanish Catholic-sounding name, and that’s why we can’t even be sure if Yara was her name or not: The Conquistadors couldn’t steal our goddess from us, so they stole her name instead. Catholics really have a thing with trying to assimilate indigenous goddesses with the Virgin Mary, as they tried to do the same with the Pachamama.

On witchy terms, I’d define Maria Lionza as both a deity and a land spirit: Most internet pages explaining her mention the Sorte mountain as her holy place, but it is more along the lines that she is the mountain.

You’d think that, with Venezuela and other Latinoamerican countries no longer being colonies, we’d be able to worship our own deities including her, right?

As far as a lot of Catholics seem to think and act, apparently we are not.

The Catholics here like to go out of their way to shame us, to call us “cultists”, to ostracize us, with a general call to “refrain from those pagan beliefs” because they go against the Catholic principles. Yes, the goddess with the Catholic-sounding name, a name she happens to share with a Catholic deity, apparently goes “against Catholic principles”. You really can’t make this shit up. (Linked article is in Spanish)

This is just an act of colonization out of many, of not wanting to stop until the culture they want to destroy is gone. Don’t believe for a second that this is really their God’s will or anything like that, they are just trying to finish what years of enslavement and murder couldn’t. They might not be actively killing us anymore, but they still want us dead.

So no, colonization is not some thing that has long passed and now only exist on history textbooks: It is still happening to this day. It is by treating it as old history that they can keep doing it, and it is by pushing the narrative that our indigenous cultures are “dead cultures” that they try to erase our heritage.

Because we are not dead. We are still here, we are alive, we have survived and we’ll keep on surviving, and our gods and goddesses are not yours to take.

¡Chao! 🐈

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writingwithcolor · 4 years ago

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Being an Agender, 1st-Gen Indian-American

I’m a first-generation immigrant, with both my parents being Indian immigrants. My mom immigrated to Canada before she came to America (when she was in her late twenties), and is a Canadian citizen. She was born and raised in Ahmedabad, a city in Gujarat. My dad moved to India when he was in his early twenties. He moved from Ahmedabad to Mumbai in his fifth standard, and moved from a Gujarati-medium school to an English-medium one.

My dad is more fluent in English than my mom, though they both are fluent and speak mostly without an accent. I speak Gujarati more-or-less fluently, since that’s what we spoke at home, but I can barely even write my name. I’m Hindu, as is my family, and a strict vegetarian. I’m agender, but I use she/her and they/them pronouns.

Beauty Standards

One of the biggest issues in the Indian-American community is the issue of body hair. I’m AFAB, so I was expected to have smooth, hairless legs and arms. The reality was rather different. Since the age of ten, I had more body hair than the boys in my class. I was mocked and called by the name of a TV animal character, whose name was a mispronunciation of my own. No one ever did anything about it. I was eight. My mother, though she meant well, pushed me into waxing and threading and other forms of hair removal since the day I turned eleven. Even now, as a fully-grown adult with my own apartment and my own life, I can’t bring myself to wear shorts or capris without having spent hours making sure my legs are smooth. Body hair is a huge issue that needs to be addressed more, and not just as a few wisps of blonde hair in the armpit region.

Food

It’s complicated. Growing up, we had thaalis (with roti, rice, sweet dal, and shaak [which is a mix of vegetables and spices]) for dinner almost every night. When we didn’t, it was supplemented with foods like pasta, veggie burgers, and khichdi. We made different types of khichdi each time, based off of different familial recipes that were all named after the family member who introduced them. My mom had to make milder food for my sister, and while my sister loves spicy foods now, I’m still not a big fan. A side effect of growing up in a non-white, vegetarian family is that no one in my family has any idea of what white non-vegetarians eat. Like, at all. It’s kind of funny, to be honest.

Holidays/Religion

My mom is a Vaishnav, and my dad is a Brahmin, so the way they both worship is very different. My dad’s family places a huge emphasis on chanting and prayer, as well as meditation. They mostly pray to capital-G G-d, as the metaphysical embodiment of Grace. My mom’s family, however, places emphasis on– I don’t want to say “idol worship" because of the negative connotations that has– but they worship to murtis, statues that represent our gods. My mom’s favored god to pray to is Krishna, and we have murtis in our home that she performs sevato every day.

We celebrate Janmashtmi, Holi, Diwali, Ganesha Puja, Lakshmi Puja– too many to count, really. We don’t always go all-out, especially on most of the smaller celebrations, but we do try and attend the temple lectures on those days, or host our own. We also celebrate Christmas and Easter secularly. I didn’t even know Christmas was a Christian holiday until I was in elementary school, and Easter until I was in high school.

Micro-Aggressions

Whooo, boy. Where do I start?

When my sister was in first grade, she had a friend. I’ll call her Mary. Mary, upon learning that my sister was not, in fact, Christian, brought an entire Bible to school and forced my sister to read it during recess, saying that otherwise, she wouldn’t be her friend anymore. Mary kept telling my sister that she would go to hell if she didn’t repent, and that our entire family was a group of “ugly sinners.” When my sister came to me for advice, I told her that Mary wasn’t her friend, that Mary wasn’t being nice, and that my sister wasn’t going to go to hell, and that we don’t even believe in hell. When my sister finally stood up to Mary and told her that she wasn’t going to listen to her anymore, Mary got angry and dumped a mini-carton of chocolate milk on her and told her that “now she looks like what she is– a dirty [the Roma slur term].” Not only was that inaccurate, it was extremely racist, and Mary was only reprimanded for the milk-spilling, not the racist remark that came with it.

On top of that, since I have long hair, I’m always getting asked if so-and-so can touch it, or what I do to get it so long, or why I allow myself to be “shaped by such backwards ideals of women.” My name is never pronounced correctly, and I’ve been asked to give people my “American name” to be called by instead of my actual name. I’ve been called a terrorist, asked why I wasn’t wearing a hijab (by white people btw), and mocked for my food. I’ve been told that I wasn’t “really Indian” because I didn’t have a dot on my forehead. I’ve been told I wasn’t “really Hindu” because I had milk on my plate, by a white boy whose mom was a leader of a local choir.

I grew up in a town where only 4-5% of the population was South Asian, and there were a total of five South Asians in my grade level. The school administration consistently and intentionally placed us in different classes, and I never made a friend that was South Asian until 7th grade. When I came to the school, I was placed in ESOL without even being tested, while also being in the Advanced Readers class. The school didn’t even care to look at my school records before placing me into ESOL based on the color of my skin.

Things I’d Like to See Less/More Of

I’d like to see less of the “nerd” stereotype, of the “weak, nonathletic” stereotype. I’d like to see less of the “prude” stereotype, of the “I hate my culture/feel I don’t belong” stereotype. I’d like to see less of the “rebellion” stereotype, of the “my parents are so strict and I hate them” stereotype. I never want to see the “unwanted arranged marriage” trope. Ever.

I want to see bulky, tall Indian characters. I’d like to see Indian characters confident in their sexuality, whether that’s not having sex (for LEGITIMATE reasons like risk of STDs, general awkwardness before and after The Deed, and wanting to wait, not “oh my parents said so and also I’m sheltered and innocent”), or having a new sexual partner every night.

I want Indian characters (especially children/teens!!!) proud of their culture and their heritage and their religion, whether that’s Islam, Hinduism, Sikhism, or anything else. I want to see supportive Indian parents, I want to see more than chiding Indian grandmothers and strict Indian fathers. I want to see healthy arranged marriages, or healthy mixed-marriages. I want to see mixed Indian-POC couples, I want to see queer Indian couples.

I want to see body hair on female-presenting characters, I want to see more of India that isn’t “bustling market with the scent of spices in the air” and “poor slums rampant with disease” and “Taj Mahal”. I want to see casual mentions of prayer and Hinduism and Indian culture (a short “My mom’s at the temple, she can’t come pick us up” or a “what is it? i’m in the middle of a holi fight! eep! ugh, gulaab in my mouth” over a phone call, or a “she won’t answer until 12– she’s in her Bharatnatyam class/Gurukul class/doing seva/at the temple” would suffice). I want to see more Indian languages represented than just Hindi. There’s Tamil, Gujarati, Marathi, Nepali, and Kashmiri, just off the top of my head. The language your character speaks depends on the place they come from in India, and they might not even speak Hindi! (I don’t!)

I hate that Indian culture is reduced to “oppressive, strict, and prudish” when it's so much more than that. I hate that Indians are stereotyped to the point where it is a norm, and the companies reinforcing these stereotypes don’t take responsibility for their actions and don’t change. I hate the appropriation of Indian culture (like yoga, pronounced “yogh”, not “yo-gaaa” fyi, the Om symbol, meditation, and Shri Ganapathidada) and how normalized it is in Western society.

This ended up a lot longer than I had expected, but I hope it helps! Good luck with your writing :)

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vogueinnie · 4 years ago

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HEAVEN OR HELL ; part. 2 TEASER - PART 1 - PART 2 - (...)

━ WARNINGS ; demon!hyunjin, virgin fem!reader

if you feel uncomfortable with the mentions of religion, please don’t read this story cause there are a lot blasphem, mentions of Lucifer and Mammon (Lucifer’s son)

corruption kink, fear kink, humiliation (and not only in a sexual way), mention of killing a cat, pet name (angel), manipulation, mention of alcohol (wine), reader is ashamed of herself, sir kink, nipple play, clitoral masturbation, grinding, very slight choking, slight possessive kink, no penetrative sex

━ WORD COUNT ; 3.3k ━ NOTE ; part 2!!! the smut part is kinda... soft? but the naaaasty is coming!!! also sorry for that cliffhanger at the end zjfhdzfz. feedback are so welcomed!!

The sinister forest in which you walked every morning now was very different from the glittering glade you were used to. The trees were whopping and if you looked at them for too long you can see red eyes forming in the wood. Or was it your imagination ? No one never knows. No beautiful tulips, no cute birds tickling your ears with their cute whistles, no bunnies jumping here and there. Just dead flowers and a mortifying dead silence.

Everything was dead.

All the love and joy living in your heart were starting to fade away. You can’t even remember for how long you were stuck in this place you don’t belong. The time seemed to be unfairly long. The days were all the same, empty, but tormenting in a certain way. You even started to forget how it was, in Heaven.

But in your misfortune you were lucky. Mammon chooses you. He was one of the most powerful of this world, after all. You were constantly watched, mocked by the people living here for being an angel. But what was wrong in being good ? Hyunjin was walking you everywhere like a trophy, or a dog, exposing you to everyone with the leather leash he used on you the first time you both met. They all seemed both amazed and disgusted by you.

“Why did Mammon chooses her ? Is she that special ? She’s an angel, how can he spends his day with her ?” were most of the words you were able to hear when you were around the devilish creatures. And Hyunjin never answers one of those questions, but his legendary smirk wnever left his face. It was ever more painful for you to understand that you were nothing but a toy for him. But what did you expect ? To be fully accepted as a sweet person ? Bullshits.

The only time he left you alone was on mornings. That’s why you always ended up in that scary forest near the huge castle you were left. Well, alone was a big word.

Jeongin was following you everywhere. He was Hyunjin’s personal and favorite servant. A strangely gentle and obedient demon. He looked young and pure, his beautiful angular face was surrounded by his dark blue hair. And you found that there were bright shades of red waiting to sparkle in his eyes. He was tall, not as tall as Hyunjin, but tall enough to be impressive.

There was no in between in this world. Demons were either painful to watch or absolutely breathtaking.

You were walking in the dead grass with him next to you, breathing the fresh matinal air. A beautiful black cat presents himself in front of the both of you, rubbing against your legs and purring loudly enough for you to hear.

A smile finally draws on your feature and you kneel to pat his head and scratch his chin.

“Look, Jeongin ! He wants hugs, poor thing... You’re probably hungry... Jeongin nods, looking straight ahead. But it’s the first time I saw a black cat... Are they common here ? You turn your face to look at him with a smile but still, his mouth stay closed. Hm, yeah, I see... You whisper softly, a little discouraged by his constant silence with you, making you realize that you were really alone here.”

Still without a words, he resumes his walk towards the castle, silently asking you to follow him. And you did, with the cute animal on your step. You were playing with him, walking fast or slow to see if he was still behind you. A laugh escape your mouth seeing the fluffy cat struggling to follow your speed. Not that you were fast but he was a little bit confused.

You bump into someone not on purpose and immediately your blood went icy. Respectfully, and especially cause you were too scared to look at the demon in front of you, you bow your body so low it was almost painful for your back. But you better hurt yourself than being hurted by someone else. Especially in Hell.

“There, there, there... What do we have ? This voice... I knew you were stupid but not to the point of not looking where you are walking. His words were painful but you didn’t move an inch, not wanting to bother him even more. The cat behind you was meowing and if you could you would see the confusion on the man’s face. What’s this ? Jeongin, kill it.”

“No ! No, no ! N-no...? Your voice had suddenly risen to end up being very low. You lift up your chin to finally see Hyunjin in front of you. He was only dressed in a black silk bathrobe embroidered with golden pearls, his long hair was half-tied in a low ponytail and he was holding a glass of wine in his right hand. He... He doesn’t mean you any harm, Sir... He just wants a friend...? His laugh was cold and heartless and he was scanning your body up and down with his piercing eyes.”

Suddenly, you felt a cold sticky liquid running through your face and you just understood that he literally threw the wine in your face. Your lips were parted in shock and that’s the moment you could hear vicious laughs behind him. Of course, Lucifer’s son always need his public. He drops the glass on the ground, glass shattering into thousands of pieces near your feet.

Hyunjin grabs the back of your neck, bringing your face close to his. Close enough to let his tongue slowly lick your cheek wet with wine.

“Remember when we first met, angel... What did I say ? A lot of things, actually. But you didn’t answer and he grab a handful of your hair.”

“That you wanted me ! A-and... That I was a mess... That you hated dirty things, Sir... You answer quickly with a shaking voice. He lets go of your face abruptly with a wide smile, nodding his face.”

“Yeah that’s it ! And what did you just make ? He pointed your face nonchalantly, making you whisper A mess with a tiny voice. A fucking mess, I hate it, in the name of Lucifer... I hate it ! His pupils were all black, you couldn’t even see the white in it. And you knew you messed up.”

He was hysterical and the screams, laughs and encouragements from the lower classes encourages him to act even more crazier. He grabs your wrist merciless to the applause of the crowd and he leads the two of you in the part of the castle which belongs to him.

Faster than you would have liked, you were in his room. It was always cold, not welcoming and way too dark for your eyes in need of nothing but sunshine. Hyunjin stayed silent but the creepy smile on his face was enough to makes you shiver in fear.

It was crazy how easily he switched from being insane to quiet.

Once you were in his private bathroom he made you look at you through the big golden mirror in front of the black marble bathtub. And you could see the damage, the deep red liquid running down your face, some strands of your hair are wet and the front of your black lace dress is also ruined with wine. You feel your back burning from his stares, and it’s even more humiliating than your physical condition.

“I think my angel needs to take a bath, don’t you ? You nod slowly, playing nervously with your fingers. What are you waiting for ? Go ahead.”

You look up at him leaning against the door frame, panicked. He raises an eyebrow and you shake your head. No, impossible. You probably misunderstood. Or he misspoke. How can you get naked in front of him ?

“Need some help, maybe ?”

Still through the mirror you can see him approaching you to stand behind you. Your body was frozen, not that you were afraid, but you were mostly intimidated. Your aura may be a pink pale tone but his own was... Like a dark shade of the deepest blue. The ocean itself is bright compared to what emane from this demon.

He puts your hair on the right side of your neck to have a full access of the left side one. His breath against your shivering skin was hot, and it probably burns you in the best way. The warmth and the softness of his lips against your skin were painful and you couldn’t help biting your lips and squeezing your eyes.

The inner fight you waged against yourself scared you more. Do you really want to push him away ? Or can’t you wait to be naked for him ?

Slowly, his long fingers trail the curve of your body, from your shoulders, to your waist, your hips, but strangely... Never your intimate parts. And you swear, at that right moment, you needed that more than you could ever imagine. Your body was squirming against his and slowly he grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“Look at you, angel. You open your eyes to see your back totally glued to his chest, making you blush in an instant. Don’t be shy with me, I told you. I’m your owner, there’s no need to be shy. You couldn’t stop looking at him and when he pushes his thumb against your lips you opened it to take it in your mouth and to start sucking it. He chuckles, nibbling your ear, his hot breath awakening all your senses. So nasty, are you really a child of God ?”

His last sentence makes you shiver. He was right. Did you deserve to be considered pure when you wanted him so badly ?

Hyunjin slowly untie your dress and the unknown feeling of being naked in front of someone was as arousing as scaring. Only his sharp eyes was touching you. As usual, he was looking at every details of your body and you can tell how badly he restrains himself to not put his hands all over your frame.

Why was he even nice ? He was almost hysteric few minutes ago. But the answer was evident... He was a demon, after all. They don’t need an excuse to act like crazy.

You didn’t move, looking shamefully at your body for reacting to every ones of his caresses, looks and words.

He takes you out of your mind, grabbing your wrist to lead you in the bathtub, hot smoke escaping from it due to the water. You put your body in it and you look at him undressing. He was as naked at you. His body was slim, his thighs and abdomen were muscular, his body was sculpted by the the God himself.

How funny is it to think that when he’s the son of Lucifer himself.

It doesn't take long for him to join you, placing his body behind yours. You didn’t know if it was because of the water relaxing all of your nerves, or his strangely calm aura, but you felt good. Hyunjin grabs your shoulders to make your body leans against his, slipping his wet hands on your face to clean your features from the liquid that he himself threw at you.

A little sigh escape your mouth and you allow yourself to pretend that you’re not in Hell. That you’re in your own room with all your green indoor plants surrouding you. You even have the impression that your favorite sugary smell is all over you, and you can even feel Felix scratching you neck and chin cause he knows how much you like that.

Wait... But you’re not in your room. And there’s no Felix.

Hyunjin started to kisses your neck slowly, licking your skin with the tip of his tongue, making you moan unintentionally. You open your eyes, ashamed of how pathetic you melt in the hand of the one and only Demon who can controls you. He probably feels your body tense and he starts to draw some invisible circles against your tummy.

“It’s funny how I want to protect you and ruin you at the same time. You bite your lips, gulping slowly just imagining the two situations. Yeah, it’s funny. How I want to take care of you, kiss you everywhere, makes you feel good. His words are accompanied by gentle caresses, he brushes your boobs with his fingertips, making you shiver and squirm against him. Even if he was behind you you can feel his gaze on your naked body exposed to him. How I want to hurt you in the goodest way, makes you beg and cry. He pinches one of your already hard nipple with two of his fingers and again, you moan softly. Isn’t it supposed to hurt ? Then why does it feels good ?”

He chuckles when he hear your voice, rubbing now your two buds in his digits. You can’t control your body and the sensation you’re feeling and quickly you came to the conclusion that you want more. You want to feel more, you want that heatness in your body to be more intense, to explode.

The back of your head falls against the crook of his neck and his strong woody smell makes you loose your mind. Hyunjin turns his head to put his forehead against yours while his fingers travel all around you naked figure against him. You can feel him everywhere and nowhere, it's like he can touch your whole body at the same time.

“Don’t stop looking at me. He whispers in a low voice, his eyes fixed on yours.”

You nod slowly even tho it’s difficult for you to stay focused when one of his hands glides along your exposed pubis. His other hand is still firmly gripped to your boob, massaging it in both a soft and harsh way. It was his power. To be gentle and rough.

Instinctively you open your legs. More, more, more. That’s all you can think about right now. And it seems that he exactly understand what you want. More. His long fingers run through your womanhood, wet because of the water, but not only. You can feel how burning it is, how good it feels when he slides them against your two intimates lips. More. You try to keep your eyes open as much as possible to not break the intense contact you’re sharing. A little oh escape your lips when he circles his fingers around that tiny, little, swollen bud. More, you want more.

“You don’t have that in Heaven, uh ? You never felt that good, did you ? You shake your head, half closed eyelids due to everything you’re feeling. That’s the real Heaven, angel.”

His wide black dilated pupils were magneficient, you couldn’t even think of looking away. He continues to rubs your most sensitive area and the hot water just help everything to be more soother and slicker. He teases your nipple, kissing the tip of your nose with a smirk drawns on his beautiful lips and you start to buck your hips up to feel more of the frictions he was offering to you. Slowly, you grip his wrist to push his hands even more against your intimate area. He chuckles, again, at your eagerness and soft moans crash on his lips when he taps your pussy. It was tickling, weird, but oh so good at the same time.

Slowly he grabs your waist to turn your body around so that you are facing him. And it’s even more intimidating to see Hyunjin with his eyes totally lost in the luxurious world. Almost automatically you stick your body to him, surrounding his waist with your legs.

If only you know that doing that made your pussy crash against his, you can really feel it, hard and pretty long dick. Your cheeks were now probably a bright tint of red. And you can see that he wasn’t in a better state.

“S-sorry ! I didn’t meant to do that, Sir !”

“Don’t be sorry, angel. Do it again, can you ? You nod slowly, pressing your two hands on his shoulders to give you a little bit of support. You move your hips slowly against his body, his hard-on hitting your core everytime you moved. Yeah, just like that, keep going... How does it feel ?”

Your only answer was to nod again and bite your lips. It felt too good to be real. Your two bodies stick together were hot and you swear, the burning flames in Hell wasn’t as hot as you. One of Hyunjin’s hand was grabbing your waist to help you move and grind above him while the other one found their way to your exposing neck.

All of your body was covered with shivers and you didn’t know if the cause was his eyes on you, his hands gripping your throat without squeezing it, or your core sticking and rubbing on his rosy tip.

“You’re mine. You can hear his hoarse voice whispering in your ear as he still grab your throat in a possessive way while his hand on your waist tighten it firmly. You’re mine. I choose you not only cause I know you were obedient... His hips buck up into yours, making the both of you crash your crotch together in a moaning symphony. Because I knew you were going to love it a lot more than you should.”

You felt light-headed for a moment. Hyunjin’s words was arousing, making you feel like the dirtiest angel. And it was too much. Too much new sensations for your body. The knot in your stomach were growing to the point that it was consuming you so you speed your own pace, helped by his hands, his breath, his moans, even his praises “pretty, hot, good girl” were the only words you were focused on. You felt enveloped by your devastating orgasm, your face leans back and a silent moan escapes your parted lips. It was difficult for you to keep your eyes open, your bordy starts to shake against his and you scratch his shoulders to hold on to reality. It was insanely good to be on cloud nine, a soft smile draws on your lip as every muscles of your body relaxed and tensed at the same time.

You feel him chasing his own high, patting his veiny and leaking dick on your swollen and overstimulated bud. You wanted to escape his touch as much as you wanted him to keep doing that delicious feeling.

You let yourself totally go in his arms when the both of you come back down from your high. Hyunjin was as breathless as you and he rubs your back in slow caresses, kissing your temples with a little grin.

“I bet Felix never made you feel that way. You frowned your eyebrows, why was he talking about Felix now ? You lift your face to look up at him in a confused way. Oh, you probably didn’t know... You shake your head slowly. He was my servant. You both have the same disgusting sugary smell. ”

Your jaws dropped and you blink your eyes. Felix, the purest heart you have ever known was once... A demon ?

—————————————☠︎︎ —————————————

━ TAGLIST ; @sailorhyunjinz - @minholuvs - @that-anxious-bisexual - @ohmysparkle - @yuminsung - @minaamhh - @kittykatvenom - @bubblelixie - @imagineinnie - @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot - @etherealeeknow - @linours - @starry-jinnie @p0t4t0don14ll - @straytannies - @binnie-m00n - @formidxble - @skzcvre - @titleisyettobemade - @bythesunnotbythemoon - @nada-disso - @characha - @lizsvcks - @pxnidxjks - @ninjaleeknow - @solistired - @keloiu - @staaaaaa - @journalskz - @bubbl3gunz - @tinyminari - @hyuneytoast - @s4ilor-m4rs (if you want to be added to the taglist feel free to send me an ask!)

#skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #heaven or hell ; the serie

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fiftyfiftyinla · 3 years ago

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HARDIN. I scan through the pages of the small notebook, my eyes move across the words quickly as I decide where to start. It's a journal from her religion class, it took me a minute to figure out what the hell it was because each entry is labeled with a word and a date, most of them having nothing to do with religion.

Pain. The word catches my eye and I begin to read.

Does pain turn people away from their God? If so, how? Pain can turn anyone away from just about anything. Pain is capable of causing you to do things you would never consider doing, such as blaming God for your pain. Pain.. such a simple word that holds so much inside. I have come to learn that pain is the strongest emotion one can feel. Unlike every other emotion, there is no upside to pain, no positive notion that can make you look at the pain from a different perspective, there is only pain. Lately I have become very well acquainted with pain, the ache has nearly become unbearable. Sometimes when l'm alone, which is more often than not as of recently, I find myself trying to decide which type of pain is worse. The answer isn't as simple as I thought it would be. The slow and steady aching pain, the type of pain that comes when you've been hurt repeatedly by the same person yet here you are, here I am, allowing the pain to continue, it never ends. Only in those rare moments when he pulls me to his chest and makes promises that he never seems able to keep, does the pain disappear. Just as I get used to the freedom, my freedom my self inflicted pain, it returns with another blow.

This doesn't have a damn thing to do with religion, this is about me.

I have decided that the hot, burning, inescapable pain is the worst. This pain comes when you finally begin to relax, you finally breathe, thinking that the pain is yesterday's problem when in fact it's today's problem, tomorrow's, and every day after that. This pain comes when you pour everything into something, into someone, and they betray you so suddenly that the pain crushes you and you feel as if you are barely breathing, barely holding on to that small fraction of whatever is left inside of you begging you to go on, not to give up.

Fuck.

Sometimes it's faith that people hold onto, sometimes, if you're lucky enough you can confide in someone else and trust them to pull you out of the pain before you dwell in it for too long. Pain is one of those hideous places that once visited you have to fight your way out and even when you think you have escaped you are permanently branded. If you're like me, you don't have anyone to depend on, no one to take your hand and assure you that you will make it through this hell. Instead, you have to lace up your boots, grab your own hand, and pull yourself out.

My eyes move to the date at the top of the page, this was written while I was in England. I shouldn't read any more, I should just put the damn book down and never open it again but I can't. I have to know what else was written in this book of secrets. This is the closest to her I fear that I will ever fucking get. I turn to another page labeled "Faith".

What does faith mean to you? Do you have faith in something higher? Do you believe that faith can bring good things into people's lives?

This should be better, this entry should knife the ache in my chest. This one couldn't be related to me.

To me, faith means believing in something other than yourself. I don't believe that any two people can possibly hold the same view on faith whether their only faith is religion based or not. I do believe in something higher, I was raised that way. My mother and I went to church every single Sunday and most Wednesday's. I don't go to church now, which I probably should but l'm still deciding howI feel about my religious faith as an adult without my mother's influence. When I think about faith my mind doesn't automatically go to religion, it probably should but it just doesn't. It goes to him, everything does. He is my every thought, I'm not entirely sure if that's a good thing but that's the way it is and I have faith that it will work out for us in the end. Yes, he's difficult and overprotective, sometimes even controlling. okay, he's often controlling but I have faith in him that he means well with each frustrating action. My relationship with him tests me in ways thatI never thought imaginable but every second is worth it. I have faith that one day the deep fear of losing me will dissolve and he will embrace our future together, that's all I want./ know he wants it too, though he would never say it. Thave so much faith in that man that I will take every single tear, every single pointless argument, I'll take it all just to be around for the day when he has faith in himself. I have faith that one day Hardin will say what he feels openly and honestly, finally putting an end to his self-imposed exile. I have faith that one day he will finally see that he isn't a villain. He tries so hard to be one but deep down he's really a hero. He's been my hero, my tormenter at times, but mostly my hero. He saved me from myself, / spent my life pretending to be someone I wasn't and Hardin has shown me that it's okay to be myself. I don't have to conform to the person my mother wanted me to be and I thank him dearly for it. I have faith that he will see how truly incredible he is, he's so incredibly perfectly imperfect and I love him so much for that. He may not show it the conventional way but he tries and that's all I can ask for from him. I have faith that if he continues to try, he will finally allow himself to be happy. I will continue to have faith in him until he stops trying.

I close the book and pinch the bridge of my nose in an attempt to control my emotions. She had all of this faith in me for no damn reason. I'll never understand why she wasted her time on me in the first place but reading her unguarded thoughts this way twists the knife, removes it, and impales it into my chest once more.

I really am a fucking drunk. I'm hovered over the kitchen counter with a fucking bottle of vodka in my hands. I twist the top off and bring the bottle to my lips. Just one drink will cause the guilt to go away. If I have one drink I can force myself to pretend Tessa will be home soon. It has worked before to numb the pain, it will work this time. One drink.

Just as I close my eyes and tilt my head back, Tessa's teary eyes flash behind mine. I open my eyes, turn the sink faucet on, and pour the vodka down the drain.

#after #after movie #hero ft #hero fienness tiffin #hardin scott #hardin tessa #tessa young #after we fell movie #after we fell #after we fell quotes #after we fell book #after quote #after quotes

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morosemagick · 4 years ago

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Warriors of Menace | Finan x Reader One Shot

My entry for Rosie's 100 Follower Challange!!

Prompt: “You are very well behaved today. What have you done?”

Warning: Absolutely none, just a shit ton of fluff lol

Words: 2121

Tagged:

@solinarimoon @emilyhufflepufftlk @for-bebbanburg @evelynshelby @lauwrite1225 @obipoelover @magravenwrites

Life is much different for you now than it was five years ago. Long gone are the days where there was a shyness about you, and your nerves rattled at the idea of forming friendships of this ragtag band of warriors. Time has been good to you, and after years of being a part of this little, mix-matched family founded by Uhtred of Bebbanburg, it’s safe to say you knew these men well. You understand all of their quirks and knew all the signs of how they behaved. The good days and the bad days were easy to recognize, and when mood swings would accord or the occasional argument between them would happen you’d know just how to put out the fire.

It’s this ability to understand these misunderstood warriors that brought you close to Finan, and in what felt like a blink of an eye… you were his wife.

And he was an excellent husband.

You understood him the most. Finan could not hide his moods from you. Happiness, frustration, anger. You knew the calling card for all of his moods, and he knew all of yours. When you first realized he had feelings for you, you could pinpoint all the little things he would try to do to get you to realize he loved you. It was heartwarmingly adorable and you didn’t let him go long without telling him you felt the same. Since your marriage, you have been a unit in sync. There is nothing Finan can hide from you after almost four years of marriage.

Including when he’s being an absolute menace.

You're in your kitchen making lunch, a large pot of stew over the fire because part of you already expects to feed more than just your family. It’s what you do at this point. You may have married Finan, but you feel like you married the whole crew of warriors with the way you care for them. The food is just about done when, just as expected, Finan comes bursting through the front door with Sihtric in tow.

By the way they come in giggling like children, you know they’re up to no good.

“I know you are not tracking dirt through my home, Finan,” You tell him as you stir your wooden spoon through the pot, and you can hear your husband coming up from behind you.

He kisses the side of your head, “I would never, darlin’,” Finan snickers, placing a hand on your rather round belly, “And how is the wee man today?”

“You are going to regret calling her that when she reveals herself as a daughter,” You smirk as you glance his way and he gives you another kiss, “Speaking of wee men, where is Aethelstan?”

“With Osferth and Eadith,” Sihtric explains as he sits at your table, and you can hear Finan walk around your home. When you glance back, he’s making the table for four.

“And what is he doing with Osferth and Eadith?” You ask as you fully turn around to look at both men, only to find them poorly failing at hiding their smiles, “Finan?”

“Yes, my love?” He asks as he returns to your side, and by his smile you know he's up to no good.

"Where is that boy of yours, and do not lie to me," You tell him with a raised brow and arms crossed so he knows you mean business.

You call Aethelstan just his when the two of them are on your nerves, but the boy is yours. Even though, technically, he is not.

"He's doing us a favor, Y/N, he will be home shortly," Sihtric tells you, trying to save Finan from whatever hole he's currently digging himself.

"Uh-huh," You smirk and now Finan is carefully trying to push you away from the food you are cooking, "What are you doing?"

"Finishin’ for you," Finan tells you with another kiss on your head, "Go sit, I'll bring the pot to the table."

You glance between the two men and head to the table anyway, sitting down next to Sihtric, "Who are you two, and what have you done with my husband and his best friend?"

"We are always this compassionate, Y/N," Finan chuckles as he brings over lunch, "Oi, go grab bread," he whistles to Sihtric and the Dane stands and does as he's told, "You shouldn't be workin' so hard when you're busy makin' us such a wonderful child."

Okay, now you know they're up to no good.

Before you can ask what they’ve done, Aethelstan all but bursts through the front door, slamming it rather hard for a child before realizing you are at the table staring at him. He smiles wide, the cheeky grin a telltale sign of trouble he picked up from Finan in the year of you raising him. He walks directly to you, like he hasn’t done a thing wrong, and places a kiss on your cheek. (Another sign he’s gotten from Finan, as well.) “Hello, Mother.”

“Go clean yourself up before lunch, you little trouble maker,” Your smirk at the boy, and Finan ruffles his hair as he runs off. The two of you aren’t really supposed to let him call you by those names, but neither of you has the heart to tell him otherwise. Besides, it’s already been a year and if he wants to call you Mother and Father that’s exactly what he’s going to call you.

Aethelstan cleans himself up and then joins you all at the table, sitting down across from Sihtric and next to Finan. The two of them move in sync as they fold their hands over together above their food, and to the side of you, Sihtric lowers his head in respect for your religion.

“Thank you, Father, for this delicious meal we are about to receive, and for this family you allowed us to grow,” Finan prays and you just stare at him with eyebrows scrunched and your lip curled into a smirk.

Because you know that getting Finan to pray before meals is usually a hassle.

“In your name, we pray,” Aethelstan continues, “Ahem.”

The three of you sign to your God and Sihtric just keeps his head down till you are done, and then the three men start to eat. You, however, just continue to stare at your husband until he finally looks at you and smiles, “What?”

“You are all very well behaved today,” You start to tell them all, and Finan just smiles wider as you lean forward and rest your chin in your hand, “What have you done?”

“You know us, Y/N, nothin’ too awful,” Finan starts to explain.

“It’s true, Y/N,” Sihtric adds as he rips himself a piece of the bread loaf, “We only do things out of love. That’s just the kind of warriors we are.”

“Aye, he’s right.” Finan agrees as he continues eating.

“Oh, I am sure,” You say in response even though you don’t believe any of them, but luckily enough for them your too hungry to push the topic further. So instead, you start to eat the lunch you’ve slaved over and enjoy this time with your family.

The meal is mostly quiet, albeit some sweet words of gratitude from the men at your table, thankful for the meal you prepared for them. You almost make it through the whole thing in peace, when a knock at your door startles the men.

“Finan? Sihtric! I know you are in there,” It’s Osferth, and he sounds rather frustrated. He knocks on the door again, a little harder, as the two men at your table start to slowly rise and head for the back room. “Open up! We need to talk, now!”

Finan and Sihtric start to sneak for the back door, shit-eating grins on both of their faces, “We were not here, Y/N, we have not been home all mornin’.” He tells you as they make their escape, leaving you there to roll your eyes and answer the door yourself.

When you open the door to greet Osferth, he looks absolutely flustered, “Osferth, how are you today?”

“Lady, I have been better,” He’s always so polite, the sweet former monk, and no matter how many times you tell him not to call you lady, he cannot seem to shake his manners, “I hate to bother you, but I need to speak with Finan and Sihtric.”

You chuckle, folding your arms across your belly, “You just missed them, but I have some stew left over from lunch if you are hungry.”

“I should be on my way, I really need to speak with them,” Osferth explains as he rubs at the back of his neck and you chuckle at the shyness he holds after years of friendship.

"Osferth, come in and tell me what my husband and Sihtric have done," You open your door wider and move to the side so he can come in, and after a second of hesitation, he sighs and complies.

Osferth walks over to the table that Aethelstan has managed to vanish from without you noticing and slumps into his seat, "I am going to kill them." He groans half-heartedly.

You laugh, grabbing him a clean bowl before joining him at the table, "What did they do?"

"Sihtric told Eadith I am interested in her, and then Finan had Aethelstan pick flowers for her saying they were from me," Osferth sighs heavily as you serve him some stew, "They've ruined everything."

"I thought you did fancy Eadith? What's the problem?" You ask him as you put the bowl of stew in front of him.

"She does not think of me in that way," He groans, looking defeated, "Now she'll think I'm a pervert who only wishes to hump her."

"Or she will think you are shy, and that Finan and Sihtric should mind their own business," You tell him as he eats through his frustration, "My husband may be a menace, but he does the stupid things he does out of love."

"She does not think of me in that way, Y/N," He tells you as he temporarily lowers his spoon, "She is beautiful… and I am just- a baby monk."

You laugh with a big smile across your face because your friend couldn't be any more wrong, "Is that really what you think? Osferth, she is clearly fallen for you."

"Do not pity me, Lady, I do not need your lies to lift my spirit," He tells, looking defeated as he finishes his stew.

"Enough of this," You tell him as you take away the dirty dishes and rise from your seat, "You will go to Eadith and confess your feelings, or I will send Aethelstan to do it for you."

"Y/N-"

"Go! Now, before the day is over," You command, shoo-ing him from your table, as he reluctantly rises, "And be sure to come back to thank me when it's over."

He groans as he walks out of your home, making you laugh as you start cleaning plates. A moment or two after he's gone, you can hear creaking coming from your bedroom, and then two big arms wrap around your body.

"Where is Sihtric?" You ask your husband, not needing to turn around to confirm it's him because you would recognize these arms anywhere.

"Gone home to his own wife," Finan tells you with a kiss, "Enjoyin' his final days before Osferth certainly murders us all."

"He will not murder anyone," You chuckle as you turn around, still in his arms, "Osferth may not have your confidence or Sihtrics' flirting skills but I am positive he will find that Eadith shares his feelings."

"How are you so sure?" Finan scrunches his brows in confusion, "And what do you know of how Sihtric flirts?"

You chuckle, standing on your toes to reach your husband's lips as you give him a kiss, "I just know things, my love, it is my gift from God."

Finan grabs you by the cheeks as you lower yourself, kissing you with much more passion, his lips still on yours as he growls, "If I find out Sihtric has tried to bed my wife-"

"It was long before you were mine," You tell him with a smirk, "No need to start anything over it now."

"That is my gift, mo ghrá," He snickers as his kisses move from your lips to your neck, "I am a Warrior of Menace, after all."

You couldn't argue with that as your warrior brings you back to bed, determined to show you just how much he was yours.

An excellent husband, indeed.

#finan x reader #finan #finan the agile #the last kingdom #tlk fanfic #tlk #tlk osferth #tlk sihtric #tlk finan #tlk aethelstan #rosies100 #mcloveproductions

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yangrdn · 4 years ago

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hope ur ok | mj

a/n: this one was rather sad fatima the whole series is sad 😭 really. this goes too everyone feeling alone, feeling invalid, not feeling like they belong here: ily and you're here for a reason. i'm proud of u for hanging on, and for you to continue living! ily ily ily! you're valid, heard and deserving of love and comfort. and like olivia said, sometimes family is just blood. sometimes there's no bond and it's ok bc you should be around people you feel comfortable with, not the ones connected to you just bc of blood. currently going through the same joruney of learning to love me, and if i can do it you can too!

happy pride!

summary: her parents hated who she loved.

w/c: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of homophobia and sinning

my m.list

SOUR m.list

“how’s matt?” there’s a silence for a second after the words leave your mom’s mouth, your fork hitting your plate the only sound in the room. you blink rapidly, trying not to show your discomfort. chewing and swallowing down the food, you cough and register her words, thinking for the right answer that won’t get you in any trouble.

“he, uhm, left school,” you lie and quickly stuff your mouth with more food. she raises her eyebrows, setting down her fork.

“but, you said he was your best friend? so how come he doesn’t come over anymore?” she shakes her head. you cough once again, not knowing what to say. if you say the truth, you’d betray his trust and you can only assume what your mom’s reaction is.

“he’s,” his parents sent him to a different school because he came out,”he moved. i think a week ago? yeah, that’s why he doesn’t come over anymore.” you sigh and hope for her to stop questioning you. she hums.

“would you tell him that he’s still welcome? he was such a great boy,” she gushes and focuses back on the food sitting in front of her. you nod slowly, not daring to stare at her face. you place your fork on your plate, taking it and standing up.

“are you finished?”

“‘m not hungry anymore. had something to eat earlier.” you leave without further explanation.

you place the dirty plate into the sink, leaving the kitchen as fast as possible and walking to your room. you know your mom would’ve asked more questions if you stayed. walking away is the only right answer, for now.

being a female teenager in a strict religious household is shit, to say it directly. there are a lot of things your parents won’t allow you to do as a girl. not only because their religion says so, but also because of the stupid double standards a lot of parents have when it comes to girls and boys.

one of them being sex and relationships before marriage.

and to be honest, that isn’t a big problem for you. yes, some of your friends have already lost their virginity and some have been in one or more relationships. there’s nothing wrong with that, but it isn’t really your type of living. so when your parents never talk to you about relationships and sex because they think you’re not doing any of those, it also never ocurred to you to fall in love or have sex.

and there is one more thing seen as a sin. homosexuality.

this is a topic your parents never addressed, to this day. on one side, you’re happy and thankful. talking about such a sensitive topic whilst you’re trying to find your place could result in serious problems. such as finding out your parents homophobic statements, which they call “opinions and religion” you found out about three weeks ago after a session of talking about religion. it hurt, mostly because you’re trying to fight against the hatred you feel for yourself, but also because those are your parents. the ones supposed to support and love you the most.

the hate you grew up with, the one being expressed through words or actions. like the first time when you went shopping with your mom, and showered her a simply shirt, with a rainbow.

“mama, look!” you pointed at the shirt with a bright smile on your face, the rainbow on the white shirt standing out at first glance. she was standing behind you, going through different jeans in her hand she picked out for eleven year old you.

“what is it, y/n?” she came up to you and stood next to you, looking at where your eyes were leading. you show her the rainbow.

“see? it’s a rainbow! it’s like the ones you see on people. you know, the ones that also love others?” you say enthusiastically. she frowns, glancing at the shirt and back to your face.

“yes, but you know those are sins.” she turns around, leaving you frowning at yourself and staring back at the shirt, letting it go slowly as your mind tried to wrap around the fact that two people loving each other was a sin.

that was the first time you realized loving a girl is wrong, wanting to be loved by one is wrong. wanting to be held in her arms, kissing her, meeting her and laughing with her is wrong. being happy with a girl is wrong, it’s a free ticket to hell as they like to say.

but how is love a free ticket to hell?

having people, your own parents, not explaining it to you makes life so hard. it makes finding your place in this world, wanting to love yourself so fucking hard because everyday you wake up being reminded that your mere existence is a sin. that people are disgusted, that people would do so many unbelievable things to you and the person you love. because you love.

her smile is so pretty. her skin glows in the sun, her eyes turning the color of honey when she looks up, face beaming and eyes filled with adoration for the world around you. your hand itches to take hers in yours, squeezing her hand and placing soft knuckles on her knuckles.

you love showing the people you love how much you care by taking them to different places you admire, telling them the meaning about it. there’s something so beautiful about sharing your favorite place with the person you love. it shows them that you care, that you trust them and believe they’d never betray you. you’d take her there. you wish you could, holding her hand as you walk her through the place and tell her how much you love her.

you grew up not being able to learn love, not being able to experience the love your classmates talked about when visiting school after their birthday because that special day feels like any other day, the only difference being getting a cake and sitting at the table, waiting for your family to finish singing so you could eat, open the gifts if there were any and go back to your room. it feels like this repeating day is a routine happening once a year, losing all its meaning.

this lead to experiencing hate, learning hate. learning to hate yourself for who you are because when kids grow up not hearing and seeing that it’s okay to love, they learn the wrong. they learn when they love they’re sinning and that their feelings are invalid, that their feelings should be taken care of with hate and hate only.

it took you years even to learn that loving mj wasn’t wrong. it took you years to wake up and see that it’s simple love. because why is ned allowed to love betty, but you’re not allowed to love mj because you both are girls? why is everyone so obsessed with being in your life and wanting to know who you care about? it took you years to learn that you love because you love, without reason. it’s your heart reaching out to hers every time she’s close, wanting her warmth to consume you to the point you could block out everyone’s opinions and hate, only hearing mj as she tries to bring you back to the real world only for you to continue being deep in love with her.

you love mj in secrets. with her, love is like love at first sight. it felt like in a movie, eyes locking for the first time as small smiles were exchanged and she wouldn’t leave your mind. later, you found out who she was and you started hanging out more. days after days, there were hang outs between you, her and two of your other friends. it was in a group of friends first, before you and mj started talking more alone, spending more time outside of school and her not leaving your thoughts.

which lead you to now. her head resting on your lap as you run your fingers through her soft locks, hand propping you up and leaning back on the small blanket on the floor. her eyes are closed, soft smile on her face.

“i’d stay like this with you forever,” she whispers, eyes opening slowly and squinting up at you. you sigh and throw your head back, leaning back until your back is flat on the floor.

“you know we can’t…” you mutter and close your eyes, running your hands over your face.

you’d do anything for her, give her the world even. you’d paint her like the mona lisa and work from day to night if it means she’d see how much you love her. you’d get ready for a war, fight every day for the rest of your life for her to see and feel your love, for her to see that you don’t even want to hide, but you need to because of the people. because of your classmates, of your parents, of your family. they’d never accept this.

“but this hurts, y/n,” she starts, sitting up with a frown on her face, shuffling away from you. you jolt up, hurt written all over your face when you see her face. you want to take her face in your hands, tell her that it’s alright and she shouldn’t worry about this. because you and mj, you two will stay together, right?

“i don’t want to keep hiding! this is- it’s painful.” her voice is quiet, her eyes cast down on your legs, where she was laying on just mere seconds ago. you know the pain she’s in. and although you’re hurting just as much, you’d take her pain. pray every night for her to be at ease and take her pain in, just to see her happy and not having to worry about you being seen with her. after all, she’s hiding because of you. and you feel guilty.

“i told you already. they’d never accept this and i ca-”

“we can’t even be outside, y/n. you keep turning around and checking if someone’s here in this park.” you sigh. you know she’s right, and you’ll have to admit it. she’s right about not being able to be seen with her. she’s right that at some point, your parents will find out anyways and it’s either they catch you, you tell them or somebody else does before you even get the chance to. and you could only imagine what would happen.

you clench your jaw, squeezing your eyes and pulling your knees closer to yourself. it hurts so fucking much having to keep this all a secret, and the guilt wrapping its coat around your heart is also getting bigger and bigger. you know that it’s okay to love, you know that you love her and you know you want to do this, but it feels so wrong. the feeling you got time ago when you thought about loving a girl is coming back, and it’s carving its way into your conscious telling you that you’re a disappointment, for hiding it from your parents and having feelings for her.

it’s scary having to tell judging minds you’re living the life, having a pretty girlfriend they’re all determined to hate and take away from you. slowly, it’s killing you when you think about their possible reactions, it makes you think that by being you, you could disgust them.

“maybe- maybe we should break up.” mj’s voice is unsure, you can hear her voice crack. her loose hair is covering her face and you can’t make out what she looks like. your heart picks up a pace, breath hitching as you feel that familiar feeling, tears welling up in your eyes.

“what? no,” you shake your head quickly, not letting her get away with this.

“i’m- how do you picture this, y/n? i have to hide with you, i have to lie when we’re at school. i don’t want this anymore.” she wraps her arms around herself, as if trying to shield herself from you. and it breaks your heart.

“what?” you breath out, disappointed. could you even be disappointed in this situation? you’re the one who’s not wanting to tell your parents, she’s allowed to be hurt and have a problem with it. but still, it hurts when your own girlfriend won’t get that it’s just too dangerous.

it gets so tiring when you grow up and notice how difficult love actually is. when you were younger, it was so easy. it was boys and girls, it was marriage. it was just you shouting “ew” every time you saw your parents kiss. love, now, is hiding from your parents. it is constant fights with them about who you are seeing and annoying questions like “what are you hiding from us?” and then trying to convince you to trust them. love, now, is all the letters of hurtful words you’ve read online and heard in real life thrown your way when it comes to loving a girl breaking you, burning through you like a cigarette and leaving open wounds that could break any second. and this is the second they did, when mj got up and started walking away from you slowly, you swiftly following her.

“mj! no!” you shout, walking to her and trying to grasp her wrist, only for her to turn around and swat your hand away.

“i’m sorry, i really am. but,” she takes a deep, shaky breath and looks up at the sky,” it hurts too much. i don’t wanna keep hiding.”

every day, you tried to keep those demons away. the demons you hear about, coming into your life and ruining it, leaving you crying alone and itching for love, for the love that just left you standing on the grass as she turned around and left. the door, the open wound, is so hard to close when the person you love helped breaking in, letting them in and play with your feelings as you ask yourself why you didn’t think this trough before falling in love.

taglists

permanent

@bi-lmg @aayaissaa @prancerrparkerr @lunalovegoodsgirlfriend @selfcarecap

@samscaptain @emistrash @hermayone @hallecarey1

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apostate-in-an-alcove · 3 years ago

Note

hello hello! Really sorry this ask is out of the blue but uhh. It’s the beginning of lent and so I’m a little in my feelings rn. I just wanted to ask as an ex-Christian like… do you ever feel a little stuck in-between?? This is worded so badly aaa but you know. Like as if you will never truly be free of the church despite it going against everything you stand for

Just for reference I was raised in A very weird household - my mother is a Latin Roman Catholic and my dad was an African Eastern Orthodox Catholic so even from youth I’ve always felt like I was stuck in some kind of limbo due to the conflicting views on dogma despite technically belonging to the same branch of christianity and it only got worse when my dad left his religion and my mother basically became an extremist. I never felt like I did enough for my religion and leaving to live in a more secular country for a few years really compounded on that and genuinely made me break down from the back to back crises of faith I was having on my own

now I feel sometimes like I don’t want to be religious. I deffo don’t want to be a Catholic of any kind at least, esp. considering the stances they take on my lifestyle (being queer, pro-choice, unwilling to get married or have children etc.) and I don’t like to pray or visit the church anymore, but I never want to call myself an atheist bc I still?? Kind of believe in some of the scripture I was taught growing up?? and mostly I won’t lie I feel lost without religion as a blanket. I think most of all I miss the community but that is fully blocked off from me now ever since I came out. I just…. I dunno. I wanted to talk to somebody about my crisis and to vent but I obviously don’t have anyone to do that with irl.

I’m really really sorry to be trauma dumping out of the blue btw but I just don’t know who I can realistically talk to and it’s been eating me up for a while now. More so bc of the season and being away from my family and from faith as a whole, and I really admire how open and forthcoming you are about your own experiences so wanted to do the same - if this is upsetting to you honestly don’t feel pressured to respond!! I just needed to get this off my chest. Also if nt already obvious this is Not an opportunity for Christians to proselytise, I’ve had enough of that to last a lifetime

No, I get what you're saying. It took me awhile to even label myself as an atheist because I was still attached to Catholicism and my theistic beliefs for a long time. And there's times where I do miss the community and security that came with that and the answers religion could provide. The loneliness is tough to deal with but it’ll take time to pass as you find more like-minded people and move on to greener pastures.

It certainly does feel like the Church will somehow always have its grubby hands on you in some way forever and this seems like a common thing when I talk to other ex Catholics (though this could certainly apply to other denominations and cults). There's work to be done in terms of deconstructing what we were taught in the Church and the Church ultimately has no authority over you and who you are and the life you wish to build. It'll just take time.

You don't have to leave Christianity or religion entirely though. There's plenty of ex Catholics who join other, more progressive denominations of Christianity or they move on to other religions and spiritual practices. I came to the conclusion of atheism after reevaluating my faith and religion and chose to deconvert, but I respect that that isn't the choice that everyone will make.

I'm sorry you're experiencing this Anon, it's rough. I wish you the best.

#anon ask #anon tag #ex catholic #sorry for the late reply

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unprofessional-bard · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 12 - The Development, Pt. I

Losing My Religion Series Masterlist

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC

Warnings: TW for homophobia, homophobic guy gets kicked in the balls. mostly angst: tense situations, back story reveal (hints to disturbing cult activities/religious trauma??). smut: vulnerable/desperate sex, reader and joel being in love and soft w each other.

Summary: The reader and Joel unintentionally get more tangled up with Kiki and Ward –going on patrols, doing town duties with them etc.– which leaves the reader frustrated.

Word Count: 7.060

Author's Note: I feel like I proofread this 500 times but my apologies if it still sucks 😭

Enjoy!

"I think we earned a small break, don't you think so, Captain?" Kurt extended a beer bottle to you.

"I guess so, colonel," You offered a vague smile and reluctantly took the bottle from him.

"Oh, c'mon, cheer up (Y/N)!" Kurt put an arm around you and chuckled ironically. "It's the 4th of July..."

"Sure," You patted his back but appreciated his enthusiasm nevertheless. "It just doesn't sit right with me that all these other people in the QZ don't have the- the luxury we have."

"Oh, I know," Kurt let his arm go and nodded bitterly. "It ain't just, but there's not much we can do."

You nodded as well: "Well, be back in 5, gotta go piss."

Kurt laughed heartily and waved his hand at you as you walked away from the open area to wash your face, hoping to wash away the guilt as well. It was your first time in a different QZ– Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to be more specific and you weren't exactly having a good time. A big part of your company was wiped out, which had ultimately triggered your survivor's guilt. The situation was out of your control when hunters, bandits and a surprise horde of infected got involved; everyone acknowledged how there wasn't anything you could do, except for yourself. It had been 5 years into this apocalyptic mess, yet you still had trouble adjusting to it... but then again, no one ever really did.

When you reached the shared toilet areas, there were only three cabins. One was occupied, one was completely empty without the toilet itself and the other was simply too dirty.

You heard heavy breathing from the occupied cabin, and instinctively decided to knock on the door to make sure the person inside was alright: "Hey, is everything..."

The moment you knocked the second time on the door, it opened just a smidge to reveal two men kissing, which made you gasp loudly and step back while alerting them.

"Oh god! I'm so sorry–"

"Oh shit–!"

You went to close the door, but immediately decided to turn around in panic, thinking: Fuck, fuck, fuck!

"I'm really sorry! I just wanted to use the toilet since the others are, well– Uh–"

"Fuck, what are we going to–" You heard one of them speak, panicked.

"Relax, it'll be fine," The other one reassured.

"Look, it's uh–" You tried again, slowly turning to walk out of there. "I wasn't here, we never saw each other, okay?"

"No, wait!" You felt a ghostly hand on your arm, but he didn't grab it, just tapped once to get your attention. "Please, you can't tell anyone!"

You raised your hands up mid air to do a stop gesture, trying to get him and his partner to calm down: "No, of course I won't!"

"Wait," The other man with blue eyes stepped out of the cabin. "You won't? You don't mind... us?"

"Mind you? It's none of my business to begin with," You assured both of them. "What happened here stays between us– hell, I wasn't even here as we speak."

"Thank you," He smiled and saw the way he clung onto his partner's –whom you noticed had hazel fleeing to green eyes– hand with his fingers. "Most people around here don't... appreciate us."

You nodded bitterly, a small, sad smile on your face: "I'm so sorry, I wish I could do something for the both of you–"

"What's going on here then?" A deep voice called from behind you, when you noticed a little too late how the man with green eyes' expression shifted to one of fear.

You turned around to meet a face you weren't familiar with: "Why do you wish to know?"

"Why do I wish t–" The guy gave you an incredulous look, interrupted himself and asked. "Identify yourselves."

"Corporal Robin Lazewski," Said the man with the blue eyes.

"Sergeant Cole Doxon." Green eyes followed.

"And you, missy?" The man stood before you at arms length with a sneer.

"Captain," You corrected him. "(Y/N) (L/N). Who might you be?"

The man's sneer disappeared when he realised your ranks were the same, but he still looked displeased: "Captain Phillip Moore. Now, I'll ask you again. What are you doing here?"

The question was more directed at Robin and Cole rather than you, and you knew why, so you stepped in: "Nothing that should worry you, Captain."

"Oh, but I know what's been going on. Had my eye on you two for awhile now enough to know exactly what type of people you are."

"These men are from my company, Captain," You intervened again, lying through your teeth without thinking about the consequences. "If you have a complaint, we can gladly take this up to Colonel Kurt Greenwood, as he is our superior."

The name made Phillip take a step back, clearly making him nervous: "Tsk, no thanks. Don't need to get more involved with your kind."

"If you wanna say something, mister, go right ahead," You growled and took a step forward, risking the possibility of a few days of detention without hesitation. The tension thickened, and thickened, and thickened then finally...

————

"Woah, wait, you just lied out of your ass to him?" Ellie suddenly interrupted you.

"Yeah," You sighed. "If he knew that they were actually from Pittsburgh I would've been... fucked."

"Shit," Ellie sighed. "Guy didn't even know his own soldiers... and then?"

"He said a few unkind words about them, and, well, I kicked him in the balls."

"Are you serious?" Ellie's eyes grew wider, beginnings of a laugh bubbling up in her chest.

"Hell yeah," You offered her your first smile the whole time you'd been lying in your bed together. She came to visit you for the evening, which was no doubt Joel's idea but it was nice of him of course, and ultimately decided to stay the night like you both did from time to time. Your husband, on the other hand, went to stay over at Tommy's to give you both some space.

"Dolly, you were both awesome and out of your mind! What if he caught you? Did they find out?" She asked, squirming where she laid.

"I got away with kicking him at that moment, got the boys out of there and went straight to Kurt." You put an arm under your pillow: "Told him we had to make a transfer, explained the reason. He got mad at me, sure, but he had some connections in the QZ. Later on the guy made a complaint about all of us, but all Kurt said was: Maybe you should worry more about the people suffering in the QZ rather than two people kissing. Maybe then, you can control these uprisings."

"Man," She giggled. "I wish I met Kurt– all of your team. You all were so fucking cool."

You gave her a crooked smile, the pains of your old wounds hurting as if they were new: "He was right, too." She gave you a curious look. "There are more important things people should worry themselves with rather than town gossip, like survival and keeping Jackson running."

Ellie averted her eyes at your words: "Yeah..."

"Look, I may not have the same fierceness I did when I was 25, but that's never going to stop me from kicking someone's balls if they disrespect you." She huffed a brief laugh at your words: "Jokes aside... You know, you can tell Joel, right?"

"Ugh, I don't wanna think about it," She groaned and turned to the right, face directed at the ceiling.

"Take your time. I'm not saying you should tell him, just letting you know that you can, if you want to."

"Sure, thanks..." She stared at the wall for awhile, the moonlight shining directly onto her beautiful features. After a while, she said: "I don't feel like he's being too honest with me, actually."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words: "How do you mean?"

She took her time with her reply: "He ever talked to you about what happened? Before we got here?"

"Not much."

"What about my... immunity?" Her eyes shifted to yours.

You felt like a piece of shit lying to her, making the burden on your shoulder get heavier. The bed felt like it could swallow you when you spoke nonchalantly: "Again, not much. Told me there were a dozen or so more immune people, that they ran some tests and–"

"Yeah, he took me out of there. Unconscious." She sighed and you felt like your uneasiness was showing, but actually you kept your composure. "Do you really believe that?"

This time you took a bit long to answer, walking over the minefield with careful steps: "I'm... I don't know, I'm not really buying it." She gave you a worried look: "But it isn't my business to interfere, either. I really don't know what to tell you."

Ellie just nodded and continued staring at the ceiling afterwards: "I just wish..."

"Yeah?"

"Nevermind."

You nodded, glad the conversation didn't go where you thought it would, relaxing into the mattress: "I heard Tommy brought you one of the comics you were dying to read."

"Yeah," She quietly took a deep breath.

"And? D'you like it?"

"I did actually," She seemed more enthusiastic than a moment ago, which made you relax even more. "But there was another cliffhanger! It wasn't the final volume!"

The next morning Joel stopped by briefly to get his stuff for patrol, kissed you goodbye while you were having breakfast with Ellie, then left. That's when she spoke up: "So? What are we doing today?"

"We?" You raised a brow.

"I got a day off, and you look miserable," She commented. "Not about to let that go to waste, so..."

"I was just planning on lying down for a bit."

"You've been lying down for ever, it's time you did something else!"

"Ellie I really don't have the energy for– for anything, right now." You sighed and helped her with the dishes.

"So... you also don't have the energy for the new game Jesse brought?" She side eyed you, offering a mischievous smile.

You hated feeling like this, not being able to do things with people you cared about because you simply couldn't. Everyone was understanding, of course, but you hated how this feeling had become a part of you overtime; way before you had reached Jackson, and before the death of your family. You even found comfort in it to a certain level, but if you could, you'd gladly get rid of it with a single snap of your fingers.

"I'd like nothing more honestly," You wiped your hands on a small towel on the counter and looked at her: "But we'll see, you know how I get."

If there was someone who helped you get back on your feet as quickly as Ellie and Joel, it was Maria – and Tommy.

But sometimes you really doubted if Maria truly was a maker of right decisions.

It was your first patrol with Ellie where you two went outside, very much like the patrols you took on, but it was still a bit new for her. She wanted to get involved with the patrols sooner than Joel liked: She's too young, it's too early for her, he'd say, but even though it's no age for her to be even seeing the stuff she saw, going through everything she went through, you were on Ellie's side on the matter. She was capable of handling patrols with you, or Joel and others; she was also more skilled than all the kids her age, but a part of you also wanted to keep her safe behind the walls of Jackson.

After a lot of reasoning with Joel, you had managed to convince him and were on your way to start the ski lodge route with Ellie. Maria had told you you'd be meeting with a couple of other people to do a sweep afterwards, but she was hesitant to tell you who. You knew something was afoot, for Maria never was a person to mince her words; it initially gave you an idea about who might be waiting for you, but at least you had Ellie to help calm your nerves. You hitched your horses at the entrance, then walked through the doors. Your jaw clenched and your posture visibly tensed when your theories were proven right and you saw who was inside.

Kiki and Ward.

You internally cringed when you made eye contact with Ward, who was... talking with Joel?

What the fuck is going on?

"'bout time!" Tommy appeared out of nowhere, startling you. "You're half an hour late, we were startin' to get worried."

"What's going on?" Ellie spoke instead of you.

"Well, we'll be heading back," He patted Ellie on the shoulder. "While the others'll do a sweep."

"But we just got here?" Ellie protested. "I thought Dolly and I–"

"Yeah, Tommy, what the fuck?" You whispered and stepped closer to him.

He huffed, it was his signature I'm just gonna put it out here so listen carefully stance: "Maria asked that you solve the issue between you and Ward."

"She didn't ask me shit, Tommy, just told me to get my ass over here. Without a heads up." You sighed and he gave you an apologetic shrug: "She's right, but is patrol really the right time for this?"

"Just shake hands and try to get along, you're partnered up with him."

Your eyes widened: "Tommy–"

"It'll be fine, (Y/N), don't worry." He said reassuringly. "Walt and Bruce went over to the back, you can fetch them and start. C'mon Ellie."

She squeezed your hand in an encouraging manner and followed Tommy out. You rubbed your face and ran a hand through your hair, then finally turned and walked over to the three: "Alright, I'll go get Walt and Bruce, then we can go."

"Sure," Joel offered a small smile and got up from where he was sitting with Kiki, but Ward remained seated with his arms crossed. You took it as an indication to wait for the others to leave so you two could finally talk.

"Well..." You said awkwardly.

"I'm sorry for punching you," He said, straight out, without dwelling on anything. "I get ahead of myself sometimes. I can't really control it when I get angry, I– I never knew how to. It was my only way to survive... and protect Kiki."

You blinked several times at how genuine he was, even his hard expression was softened to some point: "It's, uh– it's okay. Thank you, and sorry, for your nose I mean. It was a reflex."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," He nodded and got up, towering over you, then extended a hand over to you. "We're good?"

"Sure, 'course," You nodded and shook his hand. He pursed his lips and walked out, leaving you a little stunned. You immediately sighed in relief and made your way to the back room, where your memories of fucking with Joel resurfaced and made you smile a little.

"Alright, c'mon you guys, let's go–" You walked into the room and right then, you heard panicked shuffling with a gasp. When you understood what was going on, you immediately stepped back outside: "Oh, woah–."

Were they making out?

If you were honest, you saw it coming, but it still came as a shock. You debated on whether you should leave or stay, but when you heard the panicked voices from inside, you stood there, waiting to apologise as soon as they walked out. It was Walt who opened the door first.

"Dolly– Listen," He was calmer than he sounded back inside. "You... I mean..."

"Look, let me just say this: It's none of my business, and I won't tell anyone, so... It's okay. We can pretend this never happened."

He blinked, a bit dumbfounded: "You don't mind?"

"Walt, of course not. As I said, it's none of my business."

It was then, when Bruce walked out shyly: "You seriously won't go tell anyone?"

At that, you chuckled and looked away, your eyes watering at the memory of Robin and Cole you had told Ellie: "You guys are safe with me– in Jackson. I know some people aren't very open minded here, but just know that you have my support."

Walt suddenly hugged you tightly. You took a second, but immediately returned it with a gentler one: "It's okay."

"Thank you (Y/N)," Bruce smiled sincerely.

"It's the least anyone can do – show basic human decency," You said and smiled back after Walt pulled back. "Come on now, we're already late."

The three of you acted as if nothing happened, but the couple couldn't help the smiles spread on their faces.

"Alright, Doll," Joel began explaining once you stepped to his side to get on your horse. Tommy and Ellie were long gone: "Maria asked us to show 'em how we do our patrols..."

"But?" You already didn't like how Maria picked you two for them, so you scrunched your face up lightly.

"You'll be going with Ward, I'll be going with–"

"Kiki." The name left your mouth with clear discomfort. Joel huffed at your worrisome expression and rubbed your arm soothingly.

"I rightly don't know why we're even assigned with them," Joel kissed your temple gently. "But it'll be fine, sweetheart. C'mon, we have places to cover."

You gave his hand a light squeeze and tried not to look as troubled as you felt inside when you both rode up to the couples, then went separate ways. You were quite surprised Ward actually let Kiki go with someone else– with Joel, but you kept it to yourself.

"So, I presume Tommy or Maria, or someone must've filled you in on how patrol works?" You began once your horses had slowed down the long path.

"Sort of, yeah. Joel and Tommy explained how logbooks work."

"Well, I'll start of with three things you must stick to, then– always. One: Stealth is key to everything. Keep quiet and don't draw any attention to yourself. Two: Your partner is technically your life support. You don't leave them behind, but back them up when they get into trouble and plan routes or approach tactics together. Three: If you come across anything you can't handle– anything at all, you bring your ass back to town."

"Yes ma'am," It was the first time you saw him offer the smallest smile, which softened his hardened features.

For awhile, you rode quietly, until he asked: "Say... Where you from?"

You raised a brow at his question: "Well, would you believe me if I said I don't remember?"

"How is that possible?" He tsked.

"I– I don't know," You chuckled with a hint of bitterness. "I only remember moving to San Francisco with my parents when I was... Around two?"

"Oh so you're a Californian..."

"Well, I suppose. What–" You saw the weird expression on his face: "Where are you from?"

"Idaho."

"Oh, and you're a potato farmer!"

You both shared a chuckle when he continued: "I wish that was the case. Would've traded everything to have been a potato farmer my whole life than..."

"Than what?"

"The shit I went through ever since the world fell apart."

You shrugged: "Don't we all?"

"I don't know about you, but none of those people in there –except for Kiki– would've preferred living as farmers..."

"What are you talking about?"

He took a deep breath to calm his nerves, broke eye contact and his whole stance changed. It took him a few silent moments, but he spoke eventually: "When the infection took over, a small church in our town offered food and protection to everyone there. They barricaded the whole town in a short time, a lot of people died in the process, but we actually made a safe environment– not as strong and well protected like here, though. The infected weren't occupying that part of the city too much, either, so we just made decent living... But in time, the priest of the church started controlling the community. In months everyone was on their knees praying– beggin' for forgiveness for their sins so that they survive this shit..."

"Oh..." You flinched, feeling sorry for him, your heartbeat picking up in worry. You were also unintentionally expecting him to get this story somewhere, pull out a gun and shoot you, or stab you with his knife– you were expecting an Axel case. They might have come all this way just to avenge a loved one who you might have killed, and even though your mind screamed that the scenario had no way of making sense, you still kept your hand on your pistol which was strapped to the side of your thigh that he couldn't see.

"It was fucked up, and I was young, I had no choice but to follow my parents... They died years later and that was when I met Kiki. She was so pretty, and– and kind to me. I really liked her, we were around... 18 and 20 at the time, I think. She helped me mourn my parents, we made really good company. Soon I realised I was falling in love with her."

Hearing these words from him freaked you out a little, if you were honest, because they didn't look very in love; but you were also curious about what the hell had happened to them.

"A year or so later we, uh– Understand this, we had to keep it a secret. If the priest didn't see a couple fit, they'd get punished, but if he did, he'd force them to... Have children, to– y'know."

You couldn't hide the disgust on your face, but he was too focused on somewhere else to notice it, the sorrow and trauma on his face making you feel bad for him.

"We didn't know if we were more scared of the punishment, or Kiki getting pregnant– neither of us wanted a child, we were so young..."

For a moment he looked guilty for saying that, but when you reassured him that you understood, he still looked guilty and regretful: "Naturally."

"Not too long later people started picking up on what type of relationship we had. One time one of the priest's..." A suden wave of rage washed over him– He spat out the next word: "Whores, caught us hugging each other, then we were brought before the priest. He didn't see us fit because we didn't take anyone's permission to get together."

Your brows also drew closer in anger as you listened: "I'm really sorry you two had to go through that."

"It doesn't matter, it was long ago; we escaped, and now we're here," Ward suddenly fixed his posture, looking thoughtful and upset at the same time. The conversation had come to an end.

"Listen, if you ever wanna talk to someone," You spoke hesitantly. "Our head doc Katherine holds weekly, uh, conversations," You couldn't bring yourself to say therapy, even though he'd find out sooner or later.

"I don't– I don't wanna talk about it," He huffed angrily and side eyed you where he sat.

"You seem like you need to, is all I'm saying," You ran a hand through your hair, wiping some sweat off your forehead in the meanwhile. "It's okay to do that, y'know."

"I don't need it!" He growled and turned his head towards you in a harsh motion. "I don't need your– stupid conversations–"

"Hey," You pulled on the reins in your hand, hard, and came to a stop. He mirrored your movements when you growled back: "Those stupid conversations actually help people. They saved god knows how many townsfolk, and participating in them doesn't make you less of a man."

"That's not what this is about."

Sure you wanted to counter, the look of offense in his face telling you everything you had to know, but kept your tongue: "I just suggested you could go, nobody's forcing you to! Keep it in the corner of your mind if you want, I don't care what you do."

With that you started riding again, missing the look of regret and worry on his face. When he reached your side a few moments later, he spoke quietly, softer: "You're right, I'm sorry."

You nodded: "Try not to take things personally, we're not your enemies. We're just trying to help."

The rest of the ride was quiet, but the good outcome of both you and Joel's pairing with the couple unfortunately had a bad outcome for you. Maria asked you and Joel to be patient and stick to them for a month or so– at least until they start to really fit in. You had to accept, thinking of how when you first came here Walt had switched his partner's because he was the first person one to get along with you.

The problem was, you weren't exactly getting along with them, or Kiki more precisely.

You didn't know if it was because of your pride or your reluctance to make a scene about it, but you kept quiet about your suspicions about how Kiki undeniably took a liking to Joel. When you subtly asked a question about how Kiki behaved on patrol, he nonchalantly explained how she picked up pretty quickly and appeared to be a much more normal person; but you left out the bit that whenever you or her husband appeared, she'd hiss like a cat.

Maybe you were simply jealous that a pretty woman like Kiki was hitting on Joel, even though you never doubted his intentions for a second. He seemed very oblivious to her and your hints at what you wanted to say, and that was pretty much your only way of finding comfort.

Ward, on the other hand, always looked at the brink of a breakdown when it got too quiet between you two. Joel also asked about how he was whenever you discussed the pair, and when you mentioned their background and how troubled he looked ever since, he raised a brow. He also mentioned how Kiki started wearing t-shirts throughout the week –sleeveless clothing– and he thought it had to do with some sort of survival condition related trauma, while you had other theories.

Theories that you, once more, kept to yourself.

Because there were always two ends on situations like this: Your theories were correct – she was right all along! or, you thought too much of it – you're so dramatic!

It was a little frustrating, not being able to tell these to any memebers of your family, except for Ellie, who came to understand– probably better than Joel or the others would.

"Yikes, I'm sorry, Dolly," She looked troubled at your worrisome expression when you finally broke and told her about your suspicions.

"Morton's fucking fork," You sighed and ran a hand through your hair nervously. "I honestly don't know what to do, it's too early to say anything but at the same time I feel like it'll be too late if I keep it to myself."

"Well, no matter what happens," She rubbed your shoulder reassuringly. "I'll be by your side. Always."

The words caught you off guard, the frustration of bottled up feelings and the subconscious weight of keeping the truth about what happened with the Fireflies from Ellie finally shattering and setting a few drops of tears free.

"Thank you– Oh, Ellie," She hugged you where she stood while you remained seated on your chair in the kitchen. "What would I do without you?"

"I know, I'm the light of your life," She joked, which made you chuckle briefly.

"Look, I also want you to know that–" You pulled back and took her hands in yours, then looked her straight in the eyes: "That I'd do anything for you. Whatever happens, I'll be on your side too, even if I can't intervene."

An emotional scene between a girl who found her mother figure, and a broken soldier longing for a deeper sense of tranquility eventually finding it in a girl– something she thought she'd never find.

"Christ, Joel," You immediately got up from where you were sitting in the living room and ran up to your husband as soon as you saw his dirty, tired state. It was god knows what in the morning but you couldn't sleep, thoughts of Kiki and Joel keeping you up for the second time ever since your mutual patrols started three and a half weeks ago.

"What're you still doin' up?" You carefully looked him up and down with worried eyes and ignored his exhausted sigh. You quickly but carefully hugged him, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

"Are you hurt?" You asked quietly after he immediately put his arm around your waist.

"Nope, just sore," He closed his eyes. "And a little dirty. Why aren't you asleep?"

You pulled back slowly and looked into his eyes, shrugging: "Couldn't sleep. And good thing I didn't."

"Dolly..."

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." You tugged on his large hand and led him up to your bathroom. After you arranged the tub to fill, you helped undress him, his pale face and tired eyes made you put extra effort to be as delicate as possible.

"You wanna talk about it?" You said after dropping his t-shirt into the laundry basket, while he took off his pants beside the door.

"There ain't much to talk about. We just..." You could feel your heart beat in your ears as you took his pants from him and repeated your motion, but froze in your place when he spoke again: "She saved me."

Your brows shot up quickly and the ache of keeping them crossed in a worried expression for so long immediately made its presence known: "My flashlight gave out, was tryin' to shake it back to life when a stalker grabbed me."

Joel scratched the back of his neck and lowered his head while you just stared and moved towards him slowly, his voice quiet: "I felt its– Its teeth on my neck right before Kiki jumped on it."

"Joel..." You sighed the moment you stopped walking, whispered, gulped and realised how bad your throat ached. He raised his head and gave you an utterly wrecking look, which immediately triggered you to walk over to him and hug him. His arms quickly shot up and wrapped themselves around your back. He buried his face into your neck this time and your hands ran through his hair, caressing the back of his neck soothingly. The way his arms embraced you was tight, but not enough to crush you– just enough to remind you where you belonged.

Home. That's what you felt like.

For the first time in many, many years, you finally found home again.

That exact feeling that made your eyes blurry with tears had struck first after fifteen years into the apocalypse, and it was the night after a particularly tough mission to handle some hunters around the area. The team had almost lost Kurt and Robin, the fear had been very overwhelming. The intensity of it all was nerve-wracking for everyone, so when Robin was back with Cole, they broke down crying in each other's arms. You couldn't bare to see them like that, so you joined with quiet whimpers and hugged them where they sat on the ground. Slowly, the rest of the group had joined, and when finally Kurt put his arms around you and them, everyone calmed down. That was home.

Family.

You inhaled his scent with tears in your eyes and a barbed wire around your throat, then hugged him tighter; the realisation of what might have happened had Kiki not been there washing over you like a tidal wave. All these months of doubting her– maybe you misunderstood her? Were you too cruel to Kiki in your mind? You sure as hell owed her now, you were more than grateful for what she did.

A sharp intake of breath from Joel and the warm wetness you felt on your neck confirmed that he was crying, so you turned your head a little to kiss his neck softly. It was rare that Joel cried, let alone open up like this, so you let him cry on your shoulder for as log as he needed. He didn't make a sound other than his occasional sniffs and sighs.

"I need you (Y/N)," He murmured after calming down a few minutes later, slowly shifting his arms downwards and kissing you deeply, pulling you flush against him. You kissed back, sighing into his mouth and slithering your hands down his back to the waistband of his underwear. You devoured each other at the doorway while the tub was still filling, the chilly yet still warm July night creating a thin layer of sweat between your bodies. He softly pushed you up against the doorframe, and his movements became more rushed the more your tongues danced against each other.

"Joel, baby wait," You pulled back and he stopped immediately. "The bath..."

You kissed a tear that was hanging on the edge of his cheek and reluctantly slipped away from his hold to turn the faucet off, and before you could turn back around, you felt his hands slowly sneak their way under your shirt and smiled softly at the feel. You turned completely, while he carefully walked you over to the counter and pushed you against the edge between the two sinks. He started peppering urgent kisses on your neck, making you sigh a quiet moan as your eyes closed, his hands roaming your body and eventually taking off the sleeveless undershirt off of you.

"What about the– the bath?" You barely managed to ask when he softly bit and kissed on the skin of your breasts, then moved down to tug your shorts down your legs.

"Later," He groaned when he saw the sight before him and immediately went to suck a few marks around your breasts, gently biting your nipples the way you liked it. You moaned and wrapped a leg around his waist so you could have his erection pressing directly against your pussy.

He lifted you up slightly and sat you on the cold counter, making you sigh as he settled between your legs, pulling his underwear off only for his erection to spring against your inner thigh. He was getting harder by the second, but before he lined himself up, he made sure you were taken care of to begin with. While massaging your inner thighs, he carefully bit and sucked on your neck, rubbing the tip of his cock between your slick folds in the meantime. You moaned quietly at his ministrations, his hands feeling wonderful around your legs.

After a while, you reached for his length and lined him up, allowing him to push in. You let out a soft moan by his ear and he did the same when he dived into your depths, then wrapped your arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist. He growled, grabbed at your hips and thighs and started off with a slow but somehow rushed pace.

What you liked about a slower pace, first and foremost, was how you could feel everything Joel had to offer and how much more relaxed and focused he was. You liked it when he took his time, making sure you felt every inch and vein of his length– You also liked the tension building up more this way. With the patrols and chores taking up most of your constantly changing schedules, sex had started to become a bit of luxury again, too.

Your eyes opened slowly when he called your name desperately– moaned it. You slowly pulled back from your hug and looked him in the eyes, then kissed him deeply, his rhythm stable but the snap of his hips started to become harsher. His grip on your hips were equally desperate and bruising, but you liked it; it was also your own way of assuring yourself that Joel was still here, with you.

His pace picked up the more your tongues swayed together, then his hand went to the hair on your scalp and massaged the skin there, making you throw your head back and clench down on him with a mewl. Groaning, he kissed and bit all over your neck again, the skin slapping against skin making both of you near the edge.

He suddenly pulled out and away, gently helped you off the counter and turned you around. In one motion, he buried himself deep inside you again and moaned. You arched your back and he pulled your hair into a ponytail, then placed solid, sloppy kisses on your shoulders as he fucked you from behind.

"Shit– Joel," You gasped when he grabbed at your breasts, arms crossed and slammed into you particularly hard. He was getting closer with each passing minute.

"(Y/N)..." He groaned and pressed you down against the counter, trapping you between the cold surface and his hairy, broad chest while sneaking a hand down to your clit. He slammed into you three more times, which made you moan brief but loud ahs and ohs each time; your hands clawing against his hips and arms, leaving your own marks, throwing him over the edge when he thought about the pleasure he felt when your nails digged into his skin.

You both came with loud moans and held onto each other tightly, Joel pulling out the last second even though he really, really wanted to come inside you at that moment: He would never do it without your permission and talking about it first, but the topic was never brought up by either of you.

Panting while coming down your high, you were as disappointed as Joel was when he didn't fill you up with his thick cock– you were also as cautious as your husband about this, and maybe it was finally time to discuss it.

After recollecting yourselves, you both moved into the lukewarm water in comfortable silence, Joel laying against you between your legs and holding onto your hands which you had wrapped around his chest in a hug, resting his head against your own.

Some time later, when you felt yourself dozing off, Joel hummed quietly: "If you're gonna sleep let's move to bed."

"How did you..."

"Your heartbeat got real slow, figured you were dozin' off," He slowly got up with a phantom smile on his lips and looked into your sleepy eyes. This small gesture made you smile back, and after he took your hand in his and placed a loving kiss on your knuckles, you got cleaned and out of the bath. There was much to be said, but sleep overcame you both as soon as you laid on the soft, inviting mattress.

The next morning, Joel had some business in town with Tommy while it was your day off, so you both had the opportunity to talk during breakfast. After some discussion and honesty about how you felt towards Kiki, Joel figured there'd be nothing a good dinner wouldn't fix. You had to agree because of your self-doubt, maybe this dinner would help you understand Kiki's intentions better, and it would also be your way of thanking her for saving Joel.

"I have to tell you somethin', but promise me–" Joel chewed on his scrambled eggs after your reluctant agreement to the dinner. "–You won't get mad?"

You rolled your eyes and offered a small smirk after finishing your bite: "When do I ever get mad at you?"

"Oh?" He raised a brow. "Well, I was startin' to think you were jealous of Kiki, is all."

Your mouth fell open in a silent gasp: "I am no such thing! Joel Miller–"

"Oh boy," He took a sip off his coffee, having made his point.

You took a deep breath, rolled your eyes while they were closed and grabbed your own cup: "Look, I'm not jealous, I just..."

"Just what?"

You chewed on your lower lip while staring two holes into the cup in your hands, took your time to think: "I'm just worried."

"What's got you worried, sweetpea?" His expression immediately softened as he leaned forward, the pet name easing the tension in your heart a little.

"They're– really odd, okay?" You spoke quietly, occasionally meeting his eyes. "Doesn't it bother you just how different they act when they're not around each other?"

"Where're you gettin' with this?"

"I just don't want another Axel case." The room fell to a deafening silence when you said his name, but you continued when he didn't say anything: "Look, I simply can't help but think they're trying to get close to us on purpose."

"Oh darlin'," His eyes widened slightly as he got off his chair and stood beside you in a quick motion, putting his warm hands on your bare shoulders. "I understand what's got you all worried, but I'm sure this is all because of Maria puttin' us together for patrol. Don't worry your pretty little head with all o' that." He pressed you against his body in a hug, gently massaging your shoulders as he did: "Now, I gotta get goin', but when I come back I'll do somethin' to ease all that stress built up in these strong muscles of yours, huh?" He softly digged his fingers into your shoulder blades, making you sigh as you realised they were indeed very stiff. He offered a soft smile: "Agreed?"

"Agreed." You forced a smile in return, trying not to worry like he said. It was Joel, after all; if he said you had nothing to worry about, then you probably didn't...

... But that didn't mean you were going to shut out your gut feelings altogether. It was your instincts that always saved your ass when you were unsure about situations like this, or when you got in trouble with people in general. You could always beat yourself up for overthinking too much and being so doubtful of them, but for now, you were going to keep your guard up at all times and keep them at arm's length.

————

tags: @spideysimpossiblegirl @joelsgeetar @sherry-212 @peachymelon69

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inkdemonapologist · 4 years ago

Photo

Some of my doodles for Session Six of our Call of Cthulhu game!! We finally got back up with that potion-maker from Last Loop and tried to explain EVERYTHING to her, since she’s the one who seemed the most ready to believe us last time (Also, we saw her voluntarily possessed by a spirit at one point, so it seemed like it would be a good starting point to explain some of our problems).

This went.... chaotically, as there are 0 tells for who’s talking and everyone was very insistent on contributing to the conversation. The alive versions of Sammy and Joey mostly stayed out of this mess.

ALSO!! WE’VE PICKED UP SOME NEW INSANITIES! Henry has a mania that compels him to draw/document everything he learns (in case we lose memories or loop again), Sammy still has the mask thing, Joey’s picked up an obsession with symmetry after witnessing his body horrifically transformed by a corruption across half of it, and Sammy, after seeing the Star Pool lurker’s indescribably horrible non-ink-demon form, is filled with a terrified respect for it and has become strangely deferential. I DID NOT EXPECT SAMMY’S SANITY DROPS TO LINE UP SO PERFECTLY FOR CANON PROBLEMS,

Anyway, have some more out-of-context quotes!! Some of these are just conversation because imagining people trying to hold a conversation with three different voices coming out of “Henry” is my favourite thing now.

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Sammy] *summarising* (So we're gonna run by Josephine and see if she has anything that maybe we should know, uh, based on our current predicament, which has gotten even more complicated than the previous time we talked to her, which hasn't happened yet!)

[Alive!Sammy] Is something wrong? [Henry] No! No, everything's fine. Let's go. [Alive!Joey] ...I don't think anything's been RIGHT for a while...

[Sammy] (Are we, as a, uh, unit -- do we have the mask on?)

[Ghost!Joey] There's... three of us in here? [Ghost!Sammy] Sure, that's a normal thing to say!

[GM] Josephine looks like she is trying to figure out what to say, but she is having... trouble. [Ghost!Joey] Have you ever had someone... hang out with you... during the festival? Like, kind of, possession? [GM] She raises an eyebrow, but nods, and says "Yes, that's part of my duty, as a leader of this religion." [Ghost!Sammy] Fantastic. That seems to be happening to us. [Ghost!Joey] We're not, exactly sure how we managed to get... in the past again... but we're -- *points with Henry's non-sketching hand over at the live ones* [Joey] Live!Joey just confusedly shrugs and sips his coffee. [GM] "...Uh, go back a minute."

[GM] "And you don't know how this happened?" [ghost!Joey] Not exactly? I -- [Henry] Sammy fell into a Star Pool, and Joey got killed, or, was a host for the cultists. [ghost!Joey] I don't know if I got killed, but, [Henry] Well, you looked goopy. [ghost!Sammy] I don't know what was going on with me, either; I still seemed to be running around. [Henry] Also very goopy.

[ghost!Joey] So, that's a confusing answer! Um. Let's pretend *points at alive!Joey* that he didn't listen to you, and he went up to the Star Pools anyway, without the potion, and then something happened up there that resulted in whatever is happening to us now, which included us losing our memories and waking up later as the same... entity, but we didn't know for a while, and.... uh... it looks like the last time we saw our bodies that weren't alive and human still, they looked... corrupted by the Star Pools. [ghost!Joey] Do you know what might've happened to cause all that? [GM] "...I think there's a lot to unpack there," she says.

[GM] And, indeed, one of them has turned up a pair of gloves! It's somewhat worn, but they don't have holes or anything. Though they might not match your ensemble. [Joey] As long as they match each other, that's fine! [GM] They do that. [Sammy] (I mean, Henry has-- not to rag on Henry's fashion sense, as a man who's worn nothing but the same shirt and suspenders for twenty years, but Henry doesn't have much of an ensemble going on, really.)

[chatting while Joey's player steps away for a moment] [Sammy] Sorry for making you guys deal with Alive!Sammy; Ghost!Sammy genuinely doesn't know how to argue for this. [Sammy] It's like, yeah I dunno! Sounds like a raw deal! [Henry] Henry also doesn't know how to argue for this, it's like, Hey! Do you want a whole bunch of awful, horrible, terrible memories? ....No? Oh. [Sammy] CANT IMAGINE WHY!! [Sammy] Like, please? I'd like my body back? ...it's your body, we'd be sharing it-- but not like this situation, uh, [Henry] Just please, take... I have... take Sammy back. [Sammy] Could you take this off of my hands, I'm really tired of dealing with it, [Henry] I love 'im. But I need a break. Please come take your lost.... self. [GM] Your wayward self. [Henry] Who's this sassy lost child. [Joey] *re-entering chat* Ah, we're talking about Sammy. [Sammy] OH MY GOSH.

[Henry] I ROLLED A ONE HUNDRED! [Sammy] Henry is VERY tired and distracted. [GM] Henry's sketching again. He was left unattended for a bit and he's sketching again. [Henry] Yup, [Sammy] *sputters* HE CAN'T BE LEFT UNATTENDED, WE'RE BOTH HERE [Joey] HE LITERALLY CAN'T!! [Sammy] THAT'S THE WHOLE PROBLEM!! SAMMY WOULD LOVE TO LEAVE HENRY UNATTENDED!!!

[Sammy] Is the voice familiar? [Joey] Is it the Lurker's? [GM] A bit...? [Henry] A bit familiar or a bit like the Lurker's? [GM] ...Yes.

[ghost!Sammy] Joey, what do you think it was? [ghost!Joey] I think it has something to do with our situation, and perhaps the fact that-- [ghost!Sammy] "OUR SITUATION" doesn't really clear anything up, that could be a LOT of things right now!

[Sammy] Sammy doesn't want to be back in the actual time we belong in! He's dead in that one!

[Sammy] I guess it's also Alive!Sammy's turn. I don't, uh, [Sammy] ...there's too many Sammys, [Joey] (Alive!Sammy just goes WHAT THE FUCK) [Sammy] Yeah, I don't think he's prepared, when he turns the corner, to find cultists with swords, and Henry immediately drawing a gun and screaming at them; I don't think he's prepared for any of this, or has a game plan for what to do in case this happens, other than just, yelling, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” [GM] at Henry, or the cultists? [Sammy] ....BOTH????

[Joey] Does Joey know of any way to interrupt magic? [GM] Injuring someone is a good, classic way to do that.

[GM] So, you can do an attack, whether it's with the gun or with your fists! [Sammy] *flipping through character sheet* I mean, I feel like I'm probably not just shooting him, I-- wHEN DID YOU ADD "DUSTPAN" TO MY WEAPONS???

[Sammy] The idea of Joey just continuously accidentally killing people is REALLY funny to me.

[Sammy] This is going MUCH better than the last time that we fought anybody! [Joey] Apparently Joey just needs to be really angry, and then my dice are like, “yeah, you can kill people.”

[GM] *flipping through the rules* Here we go, "Disrupted spellcasting, for example, if they are shot!" Well, okay then-- [GM] ......ohhh. [Sammy] Uh, [Henry] "Oh?" [GM] HM! ........ let me get a d8. [Henry] Concern...???? [Sammy] It's probably fine. It's... it's probably fine. [GM] ........ [GM] Uh..... huh. Well. That's an 8. [Sammy] On the d8. [GM] Yyyeah,..... you disrupted his, casting,,, it's not a serious spell so most of this stuff is not extreme, but I rolled an 8, and that says, [GM] "A mythos monster is accidentally summoned." [Sammy] WHAT?? [Henry] WHAT??? [Sammy] WHAT???? [Joey] *dying of laughter in the background* [Sammy] I DIDN'T KNOW THAT WAS AN OPTION??? OKAY!!! [GM] I didn't think it was, at this level of spell!! [Sammy] Remember when I said that this was going well? I NEED TO STOP SAYING THINGS.

[Joey] How is Sammy putting on the mask? [Sammy] With his.... hands...? [Joey] No, like, how is it laying on his head, [Sammy] OH.

[Joey] Ghost!Joey would like to turn it so it's like, in the middle of his head. But like, on forehead, so that they can still see. [Henry] (A fancy visor!) [Sammy] (...you can still see if it’s on the side...) [Joey] (Joey would really like it if we, put it in the middle.) [Sammy] (...I FORGOT YOU HAVE A SYMMETRY THING)

[GM] You felt, when Sammy and the cult leader were both giving the Lurker commands, that there was a kind of tug-of-war going on there, and it seems like the cult leader won that round. [Henry] Wait, we can give the Lurker commands? [Joey] We're allies. [Sammy] Yeah, we're the host. [Henry] Oh, um, [Sammy] Sammy asked it for help! It didn't, uh... this is how things always go for Sammy, so, I feel like this is correct.

[Sammy] (...Henry pulls out a gun, someone tries to grab him and he just bashes that person over the head, Joey tries to help by shooting this cult leader to stop him from casting a spell, and this horrible weird bendy monster is unleashed, Henry IMMEDIATELY kneels to this creature, and it starts listening to him, and he grabs the amulet and starts directing it to murder people after pulling the mask down over his face, so, yeah!! I can see that being pRETTY UNSETTLING actually!!)

[Joey] And I've already accidentally summoned a demon, somehow! [GM] This is just how Joey rolls, he just aCCIDENTALLY SUMMONS DEMONS, apparently! Even when OTHER PEOPLE are casting spells, Joey finds a way to accidentally summon a demon!

[Sammy] We do need those; those ARE our bodies running away,

[Lurker, when asked if he can shapeshift] It depends on the host! I didn't do this. It's pretty awesome, though! I feel like this is actually something that was designed to be this way, for the first time I can remember! Deliberate, you know what I mean? [Henry] “Yeah!” Henry says, not knowing what he means.

[Sammy] We're very focused on getting out of here. [Henry] We're channeling Wally Franks! [Sammy] NO! Don't channel Wally Franks! He didn't get outta there he just YELLED ABOUT IT, which is what WE'RE DOING RIGHT NOW!! LET'S ACTUALLY GET OUTTA HERE!

[GM] You guys go around a corner that at least obscures you from immediate sight, though it's good the Lurker is as, uh...... [GM] ........ [GM] ........ [GM] ...uh, for lack of a better word, bendy as he is, [players explode with laughter] [GM] I TRIED, I couldn't think of anything else! [Sammy] NO I SAW THE GEARS TURNING IN YOUR HEAD

[GM] You have a small Bendy. [GM] He's blinking. [Henry] Henry is.... is having, a moment,

[Sammy] We're honoured you're joining us, but we really should get moving?

[Henry] Just let him ride on his shoulders like a kid, that'd be adorable! [Henry] Henry's having SO many emotions right now. He wants to be respectful, but also, oh my god, that's so cute?? and also my OC???? Oh my god??????

[GM] I don't think the Lurker is familiar with the concept of piggyback rides. I mean if he's asked I'm sure he's down for whatever, but, [Henry] Henry's gonna ask the Lurker if he wants to climb on his shoulders and ride. [GM] The Lurker thinks this is a FANTASTIC idea, because nobody has ever carried the Lurker around before!

[Alive!Sammy] Sammy's very pale. [Alive!Joey] You have a... Bendy now, Henry...? [Henry] Uh, kinda! This is the Lurker. [Alive!Joey] “The Lurker”? [Henry] The giant monster? He's... small now, so he's not a giant monster.

[Alive!Sammy] Henry WHAT is going on? Or, whoever you are right now, [Henry] It is me; look, I've been letting the others talk because I have no idea what's going on. I don't know... I just want to get everyone out of here alive. [GM] (What a Henry thing to say) [Alive!Sammy] *snarking* Well, we're alive SO far! Maybe don't run at people with swords, in the future? Might help with that. [Henry] That was Sammy. That wasn't me. [Joey] (*laughing* "By the way, that thing you were lecturing me about? That wasn't me, THAT WAS YOU!")

[GM] The Lurker settles down when it is clear that the hug is not a threat.

[Henry] (I AM LOSING IT! I hope you know what you've done to me!) [GM] (I was not expecting this either but here we are!!) [Henry] (Maybe it was my idea. I can't believe I've done this.)

[Joey] Alive!Joey at some point shows Bendy how to hold the pencil. [GM] He says "Oh, hey, neat!" and has an easier time. [Henry] Oh my god, cute? [Sammy] (*losing it in the background*) [Joey] I was just thinking that if he's sitting next to Henry, and he watches the Lurker fumble with the pencil enough, he's going to just, reach up and-- [Sammy] (I LOST NINE SANITY TO THIS ASSHOLE!!!) [Henry] (But he's so cute!) [Joey] (Well now he's cute, maybe you get some sanity back!) [Henry] (Like petting a cat! You get sanity back from petting the Bendy.) [Sammy] (Yes, he is adorable, I will serve him faithfully.)

[GM] Make a navigate check. [Joey] *rolls terribly* Joey doesn't know where the fuck we're going. [Henry] I missed the navigate check too. [Sammy] Ohhhh boy, we better not get lost... [Joey] Sammy, do you remember where we're going? [Sammy] Oh, don't ask Sammy. Don't ask either Sammy. [Sammy] Alive!Sammy will eventually ask "You DO know where we're going, right?" [GM] You guys..... uh, get lost! Well, let me check one thing. [GM] *rolls* [GM] ... THE LURKER, APPARENTLY, CAN GET YOU BACK TO WHERE HE APPEARED,

[GM] What a useful pocket demon. [Henry] I love our pocket demon. [Joey] I love our son... [Sammy] Joey, [Joey] Firstborn... [Henry] Adopted from a cult! [Joey] We went to Haiti and adopted a son. [Sammy] Sammy's role as third wheel here is getting weirder and weirder.

[Sammy] I can't believe Binoculars is a Bendy fan.

[Joey] (Meanwhile, Ghost!Joey remembers something? There is an inscription on the floor between the laundry room, and Josephine's room, that does not allow the passage of evil spirits. I... don't think the Lurker is going to make it past that.) [Henry] (Ohhhhhhhhh) [Sammy] (Hmm. Also... BRINGING THE LURKER in to see Josephine feels, hostile???) [Henry] (OH... I didn't think about that; he's just my kid now!)

[Joey] (I have literally no idea for Joey.) [Sammy] (Gosh, what a thing to ask... I just have to appreciate, what a thing to ask a Type Three -- "Okay, what's YOU?") [Joey] (Joey looks down at the mask, feeling all of his inner masks,,,) [Sammy] ("I'M COMPOSED OF THINGS THAT MAKE OTHER PEOPLE THINK IM SUCCESSFUL,,,")

[Ghost!Sammy] After you. [Ghost!Joey] Actually, I would feel more comfortable if you went first, [Ghost!Sammy] ...Fine. Fantastic. [Joey] (This is-- I don't know if Sammy can feel it, but this is definitely out of, still thinking about the slight guilt that ran through him when Sammy was blaming EVERYTHING on him, and telling him to keep them out of this,) [Sammy] (I mean, Sammy just thinks this is risky and wanted Joey to be the guinea pig, so, that's nice that you were thinking of him!)

[Sammy] A quick kiss won't be enough time for Sammy to like, stop bluescreening in time to react to this? So, um, uh, he- he just, uh, needs, uh, a- a minute, but he, will be, blushing furiously. I think that's the only reaction! [Joey] Perfect~ [GM] The spirit lady probably flashes him a thumbs up. [Joey] *laughing* Sammy DIES. We did all of this to get him alive again, and he just DIES. [Sammy] SLAIN INSTANTLY.

#call of cthulu: haunted hijinx #when in doubt just keep drawing #sammy lawrence #joey drew #Henry Stein #I get way too much of a kick out of non-henry Henrys #i wanna draw so many of these convos but like ITS ALL JUST ONE GUY #TALKING TO HIMSELF

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curiosityunsated · 4 years ago

Text

In Pursuit of the Scholarly

Triggers: Racism against elves. If there’s anything else you feel should be mentioned, please let me know. No violence included.

Not beta read, cross posted on AO3. Also, I have no idea of the Sindarin here is accurate- I used a translator I found on Google. Don’t @ me.

——

Prince Kíli, second in line for the throne of Erebor, was incandescently angry.

The Council sat and watched, though most did not really listen, as the Prince railed at them and yelled counter arguments and indignity. Most of the council, save for a very select few outside of the presence of the royal family, were not swayed by the show of temper. Some, in fact, looked rather smug (though those were typically not well liked in the Lonely Mountain).

The King, the King’s Consort, the Princess Royal, Prince Fíli, and Her Ladyship Tauriel sat in tense silence as their kinsman slowly ran out of steam. Tirade ended, he stared at the Council and waited.

Kern, who had held his seat on the Council even prior to the Desolation, was barely able to swallow his smirk before he responded.

“Be that as it may, Your Highness, Khuzdul is our sacred language, and it must be... protected. It is... understandable,” it looked as though the word hurt to say, “that you would wish to share it with your wife. But I’m afraid that we cannot agree with your insistence to allow Princess Thiliriel to take Khuzdul lessons.”

The young father bristled, and for a brief moment the Council braced for another round of ire. But it wasn’t the Prince Kíli who spoke, but Prince Fíli.

“Surely you see how difficult it would be to keep Thiliriel from learning Khuzdul completely, my Lords, as she lives in a Dwarven city. Some would say restricting her education in this way was born of ill will directed at the race of her forebears.” He pointed out, politely. Kern’s eyes narrowed.

“We can’t control the opinions of the uninformed, your highness,” he allowed, “and it is understood that there has been, and will be, some unfortunate transference. But perhaps this may be managed if the Royal Family would consider limiting their use of Khuzdul while in the company of the young Princess?” His polite tone matched Fíli’s syllable for syllable.

The Royal Family, save Lady Tauriel, stiffened as one. Prince Fíli’s eyes glinted at the response.

“We are approaching the Noonday bell. Perhaps this is a matter best settled another time.” Balin tried to intervene, and another dwarf would have accepted it for the diffusion that it was. The majority of the Council was prepared to do so, had Kern not spoken.

“I believe we’ve made our decision clear, Lord Balin, but thank you for the reminder. A pleasant day, my Lords.”

And an infuriated Prince Kíli was storming out of the chamber after Kern’s final words, gently tugging Lady Tauriel with him, even before the King had officially ended the meeting.

——

It started with Prince Fíli. This, perhaps, should not have surprised the Council as it had.

The Prince had been spotted, overheard really, in a training ring with the young Princess. That itself wasn’t unusual; the heir had made it routine to ‘train’ with his niece a few times a week, and nearly all the dwarrow who frequented the upper training halls had seen the two playing rambunctiously under guise of hand to hand combat. If this time usually came just before the Princess’ bedtime, well, no one could say Prince Fíli wasn’t efficient.

As far as the Council could gather, the incident happened just before the Royals had left for the evening. The Prince had been crouched on the ground, beckoning the little one forward and playfully taunting her. She had responded in kind, rushing at her uncle and jumping at him with a battle cry that, according to multiple reports, was very cute. He had taken her momentum and propelled himself backwards, landing flat on his back. And then, he had exclaimed:

“Cin got nin! Im’m dad!”

Apparently no one had clearly heard what the little one had said, but the Prince had smiled and kissed her forehead, replying:

“Cin did eithel, lend emel.”

Of course the Prince knew multiple dialects of elvish- the entire royal family did- but only so that they could interact with Elvish representatives without fear of coercion! It was unheard of for it to be spoken so- so- familiarly within an everyday setting! Especially in a Dwarven stronghold such as Erebor! Even Lady Tauriel chose to speak mostly Westron in the presence of the mountain’s public eye. It had left the Council feeling slightly wrong-footed, but perhaps it had been a one-time occurrence. A bit of practice, perhaps, so the Prince wouldn’t get rusty.

It was not a one-time occurrence. Only days later, King Consort Baggins was overheard in the library casually reading aloud to Princess Thiliriel in Sindarin... though the book itself was Westron! The Head Librarian hadn’t even asked him to lower his voice- though as the Head Librarian was the young Ori, son of Lori, that wasn’t surprising in the least. The former Company of Thorin Oakenshield was very close, even now.

Lord Ori had even pointed out a few words and asked for the translation in his own book, an act which garnered stares of its own.

The next day, Prince Kíli and Lady Tauriel gathered stares of their own as they strolled through the market, Princess Thiliriel between them, speaking exclusively in Sindarin! In the middle of the Marketplace! At one point, one scout reported, the Prince had swung his daughter around in his arms, exclaiming something in the lyrical language he hadn’t understood. It must have been humorous, though, because both Mother and Daughter had burst into giggles.

But the final straw, really, had happened in the Council’s very chambers during a meeting. Princess Dís, during a moment between agenda topics, had turned to her brother and quite clearly addressed him in Sindarin. And the King, with no hesitation, replied in Sindarin.

The entire room went silent, and many stared. Only Prince Fíli and Lord Balin continued perusing the paperwork for the next order of business as though nothing was amiss.

“Is everything alright, My Lords?” The King asked dryly, noticing the attention.

“It is just... well, you see...” Lord Tírn stumbled as the King turned his attention to him, and Kern interrupted.

“It isn’t like you to speak Elvish when there aren’t any Elves around, Your Majesty.” He interjected, and Thorin raised an eyebrow coldly.

“And you would know me well enough to make such an observation?” The Council watched as Kern blanched and then flushed.

“We’ve been hearing quite a lot of Elvish around the Mountain these days, Your Majesty.” He didn’t answer The King’s pointed question.

“Sindarin, Lord Kern. Not ‘Elvish’. There are multiple dialects. And since my granddaughter has been forbidden from learning her Father’s sacred tongue, we have decided to use her Mother’s instead.” Princess Dís replied, and if Thorin was cold then his sister’s tone was frozen solid. The Council felt a rush of fear run down their spines.

“Yes. In fact, I’ve been considering asking Prince Legolas to visit soon- Lady Tauriel is both a working ‘dam and a mother, and I don’t want to take more of her time but there are a few grammar questions I have that Lord Bilbo can’t seem to explain.” The Prince’s tone could be described as bland, even self-musing, but the flash of steel in his eye as he glanced at Kern.

“I- I suppose it would be good for our relations with Mirkwood for the Prince to visit-“ the Councillor tried, and was interrupted.

“Perhaps we should revisit the idea of an Elvish Ambassadorship, as a permanent position in the Court.” The King stated, and Kern turned an ugly puce color.

“Elves living in Erebor!?” He erupted, evidently at the end of his rope.

“My Brother’s Wife is an Elf. I would be very careful how you finish that thought, Lord Kern.” Prince Fíli said lowly, and unsheathed a knife to spin, point down, on the table with pointed intent.

“My granddaughter is part Elf. I will not hear any protest about her kin coming to stay, Councillor. Especially if you hope to keep your seat.” Princess Dís did not need to produce a weapon to aid her threat.

“I meant no disrespect, your Highnesses. I humbly apologize.”

“It seems to me, Lord Kern,” the King began, “that you have invited disrespect with your words and your conduct. Barring my grand niece from learning her Maker’s tongue- don’t look at me like that, I know who’s voice persuaded the rest of Council against it- and now making remarks of such disgust against the lineage of an heir of the line of Durin?” King Thorin trailed off, hard stare never wavering.

Kern, who had already been thrown off kilter by the Royal Family’s seemingly overnight adoption of Sindarin, floundered under such a direct accusal.

“I- Your Majesty, never-“

“In fact,” the King continued, and the Council watched the two with bated breath, “I have been in talks with some of our oldest, most practiced curates and they all agree. The right to learn Khuzdul is a matter of religion, not of politics.”

Kern turned that fetching shade of puce again.

“So while it remains a matter of courtesy for Prince Kíli and Lady Tauriel to inform the assembled Council of their plans for Princess Thiliriel’s education, they are in no way obliged to do more than consider the Council’s opinions on this particular aspect.” The King finished, and it was Princess Dís’ turn to smirk as she, and the rest of the Council, watched the pompous windbag known as Kern to puff up, process, deflate, and stiffly nod.

“Thank you, your Majesty, for reminding the Council of the boundaries of our reach. I am... sure this will not be forgotten.” The words came as easily as blood from a rock, and Kern ground his teeth as though trying to break ore from stone as he spoke.

“Oh, and Lord Kern?” King Thorin said, already looking at the papers for the next topic, and not sparing a glance for the Council.

“Yes, your Majesty?”

“I’d like for you to tell his Highness and Lady Tauriel the good news. Directly after the Council Meeting concludes. We wouldn’t want to delay the Princess’ education any longer.”

Fíli’s smile could only be described as wolfishly sharp, and he clearly inherited it from his mother.

——

Elvish translations:

Cin got nin! Im’m dad! : you got me! I’m down!

Cin did eithel, lend emel. : You did well, sweet heart.

#the hobbit #fili #kili #bilbo baggins #fanfic #thorin oakenshield #Dís #original child character #Kiliel #injustice #elvish racism

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deja-you · 4 years ago

Text

times new roman | episode ten

t. jefferson x reader

summary: in this final episode, thomas wants more than just a date.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: this is the final installment of this series! this has been a joy to create, and all my love goes out to those of you who have stuck through it all <3

masterlist | previous

“You have to be anywhere today?”

Thomas tapped his fingers against Y/n’s bare skin to a melody he was making up in his head. He had spent the last few minutes minutes memorizing the tide of her breathing and internally debating whether or not to ask the question he had just asked. Thomas knew he would have to ask eventually, but he hated the thought that maybe Y/n did have somewhere to be.

She turned on her side to face him, admiring his features. “Not really. Is this you trying to kick me out of your apartment?”

He grinned. “The opposite. Wonderin’ if I can stay in bed with you all day.”

Y/n hummed softly. “I think that could be arranged. But we’re going to have to find something to do to occupy the time.”

“Oh?” Thomas raised an eyebrow, his lips pulling up into a suggestive smirk. “You plan on doing that all day? Angel, last night was amazing, but I don’t know how much stamina I have in me. Maybe if I got some Gatora--”

“Shut up!” She snorted and slapped his chest. “I meant an activity like reading. Good lord.”

“Well that sounds enjoyable, too. You want to pick something out from my personal library?” He asked.

“Thomas Jefferson, that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. Thank you for finally asking.”

Y/n climbed out of bed wearing only the Thomas’s shirt she had stolen last night and walked over to the door. She paused in the doorframe and glanced back at him. “You coming?”

He looked her up and down, his arms folding behind his head as he leaned back against the headboard. “Don’t mind me. I’m just enjoying the view.”

She scoffed and moved out of his sight. Thomas sighed softly, eventually pulling himself out of the warm bed to follow her into his living room. She was standing at one bookcase, her back to him. Thomas wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and pressed gentle kisses to her shoulders.

“Are you religious?”

She was leafing through his Bible. It wasn’t much of a Bible. The way he had cut out passages of scripture.

He didn’t know how to answer her at first. Did she want him to say yes? Would she like it if he told her he read the Bible and prayed? He knew her too well for that. She wanted to hear the truth.

“I am religious,” Thomas responded. It wasn’t a lie. “Very, deeply religious.”

Y/n frowned and held up a page from the Old Testament that had been mostly cut out.

“You can’t just pick and choose the parts of the Bible that you like and cut out the sections you don’t like.”

“I know.”

“It’s all or nothing. You can’t have the best parts of religion without the worst parts. You understand that, right?” Y/n desperately needed for him to understand.

“Angel, this isn’t about the Bible, is it?” Thomas said it like a question to be polite, but they both knew the answer. “It’s all a metaphor for you and me.”

She shrugged. “Everything is a metaphor for you and me.”

They were both quiet for a moment. She slid the Bible back onto his bookshelf next to a series of Ralph Ellison works and Kurt Vonnegut novels. Y/n decided on A Farewell to Arms, removed it from the shelf, and turned back to Thomas.

“Just don’t cut out the parts of me you don’t like, okay?”

His large hands covered Y/n’s and he brought her hand up to his lips to kiss each finger carelessly. “There’s nothing about you I could cut out. I love each and every part of you.”

This seemed to reassure Y/n enough, a small smile appearing on her face.

“What? What is it?”

Y/n had been minding her business, reading through her burrowed book, when she felt Thomas’s eyes on her. He had clearly been staring at her with something on his mind.

Thomas just smiled and shook his head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

“Well now you have to tell me,” Y/n insisted, setting down the book.

“Angel, please,” he shook his head and laughed lowly.

She narrowed her eyes and sat up to get a better look at him. “Thomas Jefferson, tell me what you’re thinking.”

“You really want to know?”

“That’s why I’m asking,” Y/n said in exasperation.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled. Thomas pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked into her eyes. “I was just thinking about how much I like waking up to the sight of you reading in my bed. It feels so natural.”

A slow smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Well I like waking up in your bed. You’ve got a nice mattress.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow but he was still grinning. “You tellin’ me you only stick around because I have a nice mattress?”

“I suppose there might be a few other reasons,” she teased. “But it’s mostly about the mattress.”

He scoffed and wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to his side. Thomas’s lips found her neck and he left little kisses along her collarbone. “That’s too bad. I’m practically obsessed with you.”

“Are you?” She hummed dismissively.

“Mmhmm,” he mumbled his words against her skin. “I’m in love with you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “What?”

She shifted on the bed and placed two fingers under Thomas’s chin to bring his eyes up to meet her’s. “You love me?”

He froze, wondering if he should take the words back. But he meant them.

“I love you,” he said more firmly. “I do. And I want to wake up next to you every day. I want to see you wearing my t-shirts and reading my books in my bed. I want you. All of you. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“Hmm,” she said noncommittally. “I don’t know.”

Y/n couldn’t resist teasing him a little more, and she almost felt bad when he tensed up beside her.

“Oh, well that’s ok--”

“I never did get that boyfriend application from you, did I?” She grinned. “I remember being promised MLA format.”

She searched his face to see his reaction, but he completely retracted his body from her’s. Her mouth fell open as he climbed out of bed, his warmth leaving her.

“Thomas? Where are you...?”

He exited the room, and then came back a few minutes later with his laptop in hand. Thomas hopped back on the bed and turned on his computer.

“What are you doing?” Y/n asked, suppressing a smile.

Thomas gave her the most serious look she had ever seen from him. “I’m working on my application.”

“You know I was joking, right?” She laughed, but he was already opening up a Word document. “You don’t need to write an application.”

Thomas changed the Calibri font to Times New Roman and began working on his heading. “I promised you an application in MLA, and that’s exactly what you’re going to get.”

“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” Y/n shook her head.

“Shh,” he hushed. “I need to come up with a good hook. Should I start with a question? A quote? No, that’s too basic.”

Y/n was about to try to tell Thomas he was being too extra, but she could tell he was already too invested in writing up his application. She shook her head again, and turned her attention back to the book in her hand when she came to terms with the fact that Thomas wasn’t going to stop until he was finished.

Maybe 30 minutes later, Thomas declared he was done. He slid the laptop over to Y/n, and she sighed dramatically as she began to read through the document.

“You count cooking as a skill?” Y/n asked skeptically. “You only cook macaroni and cheese.”

“Yeah, and it’s damn good. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, angel,” he shrugged.

“It’s not. Not good, that is,” Y/n muttered under her breath, continuing to scroll through his application. “‘Devilishly handsome’? Really? Really?”

“You know that part is true. Don’t even pretend.”

A few minutes later, Y/n had finished reading the application Thomas had spent way too much time writing. He appraised her with bright eyes, waiting to hear her verdict.

“Well?”

“Well,” she strung it out a little bit longer, amused by the slight nervousness that hid behind Thomas’s eyes. “After reviewing your application... I’m happy to inform you that you got the job as Y/n Washington’s boyfriend.”

“Yes!” He pumped his fist in the air and leaped out of the bed to take a victory lap. Thomas returned a few seconds later to pull Y/n into a tight hug and placed kisses to her cheeks, lips, neck, and arms.

“I nailed the conclusion, didn’t I? I felt really good about that.”

She laughed and pressed her lips to his again to get him to shut up. When they pulled apart, he gasped and grabbed his phone off the bed.

“I need to post about this.”

She rolled her eyes when she finally set down the phone and snuggled into Thomas’s side. Y/n breathed in the scent of his t-shirt and sighed in contentment.

“This is good, right?” Thomas said softly. “You and I? This is good?”

“It’s more than good. It’s us. I love us,” she replied.

Y/n listened to the beat of his heart and knew that hers was in sync with his. She threaded her fingers through his, and with the other hand, she held open the book she had borrowed from Thomas’s library. Y/n’s eyes were drawn to a line in the book Thomas had underlined who knows how long ago, and she smiled softly.

You’re my religion. You’re all I’ve got.

tag list:

@dovesgrangers @lovelymrvl @wiffle-snuffles @thisistrashperson @comingupwithacoolnameishard @wordvomit-foryourmind @newtonslawoffuck @isharemydeathdaywithfeanor @i-know-i-can @imperial-martian @fangirling-central @dannighost @ateliefloresdaprimavera @justahappylilblog @fanfic-addict-98 @a-hopeless-fan @and-claudia @nicolemelton @youtxbemusic @reidcult @eirenism @fantasy-of-fiction @iamsuperconfusedallthetime-dead @a-midwinter-night-dream-86 @rycbar-221b @bethanymccauley @fanworrior @gggamingz @nemesis729 @ibeaesthethicc @yodas-padawan @sabbrriiinnaa @micaiahmoonheart @beautifulfound @moondustmemories @ct-salad @teenwaywardasgardian @bj-is-a-graduateof-julliard @ruebx @katierpblogg @speedypartyducksuitcase @fangirling-central @idkkbaleighh @ballerinafairyprincess @spn-pogues @gryffin-claw @elegantbutedgy @1elysium @sierraisnotreal @ssanjuniperoo @collectivefandom @lilbabyhoneypot @lunariasilver @justcallmemama @atleastidontdotiktoks @mistrose23 @checkurwindow @fluffydmonkey @pettyjayy @rosesinmars @cubedtriangle @itsjube @zeelmol @ems-alexandra @yavin4andor @daveeds-whore @someinsanefangirl @theatrenerd86 @poetnstuff @ohsoverykeri-blog @im-sidney @omgyouburtmyeggos @astralaffairs @nyxie75 @mydearestlaurens @janessawonderwall @the-middle-oldest-child @emtinuviel @elizard-hamilton @the-lost-marauder

so this is the end loves! thanks for sticking with me through this. if you want to keep reading my works, i have a new series (angel wings + wedding rings) coming out. let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist :)

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starlightervarda · 4 years ago

Note

hi lucy! I'm new to the tog fandom and i just discovered your blog. I love your informative posts about joe's culture and I'd like to share my own experience. I was raised catholic in a country where most people are muslims and I very much agree that saying Astagfirulah, masyaalah, insyaalah is a thing that almost every indonesians say without caring about their religion (I'm agnostic myself now and i use it constantly but varying it like yaoloh, insyaoloh etc)

(2/3) contd- i do wonder if muslims are bothered by non muslims saying it without care as some muslims here are pretty radical (the ones who think every arabic word is a muslim thing even though it means something very common and not a prayer or smth, there was a heated discussion about somebody who carved his sandals to say left/right in arabic and people are mad at him because they're saying that the language of God must not be tarnished by stepping on them even though it literally meant left/right)

(3/3) contd- so yeah i am very glad to read from your posts regarding this matter and how it's mostly a cultural thing everywhere around the world apparently. I get excited reading kaysanova fic that dives deep into their respective cultures because i understand both catholic upbringings and muslim traditions and sayings. i do wish that nicky and joe had conversed in arabic also rather than just italian, it would show a very good diversity about how both their cultures have assimilated to each other)

Hi nonny <3

1) I always found this behaviour from Muslims who don’t speak Arabic very confusing. The possessiveness over the language and treating it and Mideastern culture as inherently religious is just...No.

The idea that Arabic is a Muslim-only language and that ‘Allah is the Muslim God’ is both wrong and weird. There are Arabophone Christians and Jews, Allah is literally just the Arabic word for God. It’s no different than the Romans calling Zeus ‘Jupiter’.

*sigh* Shit like this is why people think Arabic is a violent and scary language, because fanatics keep using it in their bullshit, tying its association to radical religion. Makes me want to throw some very suggestive romantic, even homoerotic, Arabic poetry in their faces. Or an Arabic bible, I bet that would blow their minds.

2) I made a post about how you generally use religious phrases and that they’re used a lot in jokes, sarcasm and even memes. There’s even a running joke in my family when someone uses a phrase which means basically ‘For the Prophet’s sake’ someone will follow up with ‘Which prophet?’ and we’d respond with any of them, Jesus, Moses, Abraham, David, etc. For maximum comedy, the answer is typically more obscure like ‘The Prophet Daniel/Elijah’.

So, no! No one is (or should be) bothered by non-Muslims saying these phrases because they’re not Muslim, they’re Arabic. I’ve known a lot of Christians and they ALL say Allah, Inshallah, Wallahi, Mashallah, etc. because they’re just part of our language, and they, like Arabic itself, existed before Islam.

Only things both religions don’t share are things specifically related to central religious figures like Muhammad/Jesus. (There are some general cultural phrases that do reference them, but not religious, you know?)

3) I made a post about people expecting Joe and Nicky to speak Arabic, and it’s not that simple, because there are many kinds of Arabic, and many options they could use/take into account. And it has many sounds most people can’t manage, even if they’ve been speaking it for years. I had mixed friends with foreign mothers who learned Arabic but couldn’t make distinctions between many sounds.

Nicky will need to sound like he’s been speaking it for centuries, managing letters like ع and خ and ح and غ among others. It was easier for Marwan to speak Italian probably because he already speaks French. Unless Luca starts taking lessons in pronunciation and diction now, anything he says is going to sound very weird.

TBH I’d love it if Nicky is the one who dishes out insults in Arabic, that’d be hilarious because no one would expect it. Like he shoots someone that he calls ‘son of a filthy whore!’ and Joe remembers that it was the first thing he said to Nicky while they were killing each other.

#tog #the old guard #kaysanova

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ghost-in-the-hella · 4 years ago

Note

J: “Join me for a swim?” with PriceMarsh, because I can't get enough of this ship.

Some soft pricemarsh for these troubled times. Enjoy.

---

Kate says a silent prayer before she approaches the woman sitting on the beach. She suspects that Chloe’s not the praying kind, and given the way people in Blackwell and around town never seem to have a kind word to say about her she’d be surprised if anybody else spoke to God on her behalf. And maybe Chloe prefers it that way. They haven’t talked about religion much in the few weeks of their budding friendship, but she’s pretty sure that Chloe is an atheist. “What kind of God would take my dad away when I was only fourteen?” For some people, tragedy brings them closer to God. For others, it pushes them away. But Chloe doesn’t make fun of her for being religious (unlike most people at Blackwell) and Kate doesn’t try to dissuade her from her own beliefs, so they get along beautifully. Everyone has their own path to walk in life, after all.

Kate’s path leads her toward Chloe’s slumped back and bowed head as she sits in the cooling sand and the fading light.

Chloe’s head doesn’t turn as Kate approaches, even though Kate’s footsteps in the sand aren’t exactly silent. It does raise slightly in acknowledgement, however, and Kate assumes that’s as close as she’s going to get to a greeting tonight.

Kate’s not sure how long Chloe’s been sitting there, staring out at the slow waters of the bay. Chloe had texted her three times after midnight, which Kate of course didn’t see until she woke up at eight. Kate’s texted her five times since then at careful intervals so as to not seem too concerned, and Chloe hasn’t responded to a single one of them. She even tried calling Chloe despite phone calls not being a standard part of their friendship at this point, but she didn’t try again after it went immediately to voicemail.

Kate’s never regretted not learning to drive so much before. It’s been sort of nice, actually, since Chloe’s got her truck and loves driving. Kate not wanting to ride the bus everywhere has been a good excuse for both of them to advance their friendship beyond “casual but amiable acquaintance” to “person I actively go out of my way to spend time with.” Today, however, not being able to drive has been a serious hindrance. It’s hard to search for someone when you’re reliant on small town bus routes and schedules. Once she started to really worry about Chloe’s silence and start looking for her, it took her nearly three hours to track her down at the beach.

She stops and stands next to where Chloe’s sitting in the sand. “Hey,” she says evenly, as if she hasn’t been clawing her hair out trying to find this woman half the day.

“Hey,” Chloe answers without looking at her.

“...I got your texts.” Chloe doesn’t respond, so Kate continues, “I didn’t see them until I woke up; I’m sorry. I wasn’t ignoring you.”

Chloe nods thoughtfully, processing this. “My battery died. Didn’t want to go home to charge it.”

Kate can’t blame her for that. “Is it okay if I sit with you?”

Chloe turns to her then and looks at her with those clear blue eyes. It doesn’t seem fair that such beautiful eyes should have to hold such sadness. The light isn’t great, but Kate’s pretty sure she sees a smudge of a bruise beneath one, and that makes her stomach twist all the tighter. “Sure, whatever.” Chloe trains her eyes on the bay once more, but Kate can still feel them piercing her heart.

Kate tucks her skirt around her legs carefully as she settles by Chloe’s side. The sand is damp and the warmth of the day is mostly gone from it. She looks at the woman beside her. She’s not wearing her beanie for once. She’s wearing short sleeves and her pale, too-thin arms are covered with goosebumps. Without even thinking, Kate removes her cardigan and drapes it over Chloe’s bare shoulders. Chloe glances at her in barely masked surprise. Kate thinks for a moment she’s going to object, but she just wraps her arms around herself and tugs the borrowed cardigan a little tighter around her shoulders.

Kate feels like she should say something, but Chloe breaks the heavy silence while she’s still trying to piece her words together. “Kinda late to come to the beach. Sun’s almost down. ‘Most everyone’s gone home.”

“I didn’t come for the beach. I came for you.”

Chloe’s brows lift then furrow. “Why.”

Because when she woke up to Chloe’s texts and saw how long ago she’d sent them, Kate had almost immediately gone into a panic spiral. Because Kate had texted and called and couldn’t reach her. Because Kate was terrified that Chloe was hurt and had nowhere to go and no one to talk to. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. You weren’t at the junkyard or the diner, so I thought you might be here or maybe the lighthouse.”

“Not a whole lot of places to go in this town,” Chloe says, and maybe it’s a trick of the non-light but Kate would swear that her expression softened when Kate told her she’d been looking for her. “I used to come here all the time,” Chloe continues. “My dad used to take me and my friend Max here every weekend in the summer. When we got old enough, we’d take the bus by ourselves and stay here all day. We practically lived in the bay.” She chuckles softly to herself. “She - Max - used to tease me I was going to turn into a mermaid because I spent more time in the water than on the land.”

Kate can picture that. Chloe’s got long arms and longer legs, built for swimming. Her hair wouldn’t have been blue when she was a child, Kate assumes, but Kate can imagine how it would look now: blue and purple locks flowing with the waves, fanning out around her head like a soft halo. The vivid reds and greens and blues of her tattoo extra bright against the pale of her skin, all shimmering under the water and glittering with reflected light. Long fingers cupping brackish water, lean body moving through the bay like she was born to do nothing else. “Punk rock mermaid,” Kate says a bit dreamily, already picturing how she would draw her.

Chloe huffs a small laugh. “Nah, not when I was a kid. I was a pretty big dweeb if you can believe it. Super into science, major anime nerd, drew comics, all that stuff.”

Kate can believe it, actually, but she keeps that to herself.

The smile that had been growing on Chloe’s lips fades away. “Rach loves swimming, too. After Max left - her family moved to Seattle; same day as my dad’s funeral, can you believe that shit? - I didn’t go swimming for a long time. Probably for the best; I would’ve just drowned myself.” She picks at the cuticles of her chewed up fingernails fretfully and Kate suppresses the powerful urge to pull her into a comforting embrace and stroke her hair like her father has always done for her when she’s upset. “But Rach is a Cali girl, so even though our bay’s nothing compared to the Pacific she just has to go swimming. Like, constantly. Day and night. The girl’s blood is half salt water, I swear.”

Kate’s got this anxious bubbling in her stomach that she doesn’t know how to quell. She knows of Rachel Amber, but she doesn’t know her. She went missing last April, three months before Kate moved into the dorms. Everything she knows about Rachel she knows from the unavoidable gossip in the dorms, the graffiti scattered around town - some of it doting, most of it unrepeatably vile, and Chloe.

She actually met Chloe because of Rachel Amber, oddly enough. Or, more precisely, she met Chloe because Rachel Amber went missing. One day Chloe happened to be hanging up missing person posters around campus while Kate was putting up flyers for the abstinence club, and when Kate saw what Chloe was posting (when she saw Chloe’s eyes) she had offered to help her distribute them. They’d gotten to talking as they worked, and by the time the posters were all hung they’d exchanged numbers.

Kate owes this friendship (this crush) to Rachel. And Rachel’s been missing for five months now. No matter how many posters they hang, no matter how many prayers Kate sends up for this lost girl to be found, she’s been missing for almost half a year. Chloe still talks about her like she expects to see her coming around the corner any minute now sometimes. Kate doesn’t know whether encouraging Chloe’s hope does more good or more harm at this point. Women who go missing for this long, beautiful young women like Rachel Amber… Kate wants to have faith in Rachel’s safety, but her mother’s been telling her horror stories about what happens to girls like her since before Kate was even old enough to understand.

“So we go swimming together a lot. Not now, obviously. But… yeah. Total punk rock mermaids.” She scoffs lightly, but Kate can hear the sorrow in her laugh. “I… I haven’t gone swimming in months. Not since she…” Chloe sighs. She shakes her head and tries to sound annoyed rather than heartbroken. “Missed the whole fucking summer. Now it’s probably too cold to swim. She’s probably been off surfing in Cali all summer, and I’ve just been staring at the bay like she’s coming in on the next boat. How pathetic is that?”

“It’s not pathetic at all. You miss your friend.” Kate reaches out a tentative hand and is relieved

when Chloe accepts her touch without so much as a flinch.

“I miss the bay,” Chloe says suddenly. “I miss the way it felt to just run out into the waves and not give a fuck. I miss feeling weightless and small and like if I swam far enough I could step out into a pirate’s treasure cove, or on some forgotten island, and start a new life. I miss feeling free.”

Kate’s never been swimming in the bay. She spent her summer here ingratiating herself with the local parish, learning the bus schedule, breaking in her library card. She stands carefully, dusting the sticky sand off her skirt.

Chloe looks at her askance. “Heading home?”

Kate shakes her head. She reaches out a hand to Chloe. “Join me for a swim?” Kate asks, and her voice hardly trembles even though she’s beyond nervous.

Chloe stares at her like she’s sprouted a second head and then she laughs in disbelief. “Are you for real?”

“Very much so.”

“You got a bathing suit on under your clothes, Kit-Kat?”

“Do you?”

“No.” Chloe tries to leer, but it’s so uncertain it falls apart before it can look properly devious. “You askin’ me to go skinny dipping? I thought you were supposed to be a prude about that stuff.”

“I’m not a prude,” Kate protests, her face reddening. “But no, I’m not asking you to go skinny dipping. Or at least I’m not going skinny dipping; you can do as you please.” She slips off her shoes, and good Lord, this really is a terrible idea, isn’t it. She’s not dressed for swimming in the slightest. Her blouse is white, and her skirt is, well, a skirt, but it’s too late to back out now just because she’s had a sudden attack of logic since Chloe’s already taking her hand (and oh Lord Chloe’s hand is so cold and so strong and so perfect) and hauling herself up to her feet.

“Gonna be a weird ride back to campus,” Chloe says with a grin that’s building in its certainty. “Wet jeans are hell to drive in. You know my heater doesn’t work, right?”

“I’ve ridden in your truck before, haven’t I?”

“True that.” Chloe removes Kate’s cardigan and folds it with surprising politeness by her shoes before tugging off her boots and dropping them haphazardly into the sand. She empties her pockets onto the pile of clothes: a crumpled cigarette pack, some loose change, a parking ticket, a key, a lighter, her phone. Kate places her handbag beside them. “You ready to do this thing?”

Kate nods quickly before she can chicken out. “Are you?”

The smile that lights up Chloe’s face is the most radiant thing that Kate’s ever seen. “Hella ready.” Chloe reaches out her hand again, and Kate takes it.

The water is cold, and swimming in a skirt is just as difficult as Kate feared. It’s completely worth it.

#life is strange #fanfic #my writing #ghost writes #pricemarsh #chloe price #kate marsh #prompt fill #prompt fic #prompt ghost

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