#some even in actual egyptian :))

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 121

There’s several de-aged Danny prompts, but what about de-aged Jazz. Most agree she’s very liminal after all, so who's to say ghost things won’t affect her too? 

So imagine with me, Jazz gets hit with something, and she is now child; maybe even baby. Danny panics, flees with his emergency bag alongside the other three in Team Phantom. So now they’re four teens with a very small child on the run. Four teens and a small child who have run into several heroes. 

Heroes who are all very concerned. 

[my-name-is-apollo]

Why is Hera so hostile to Leto in a manner that she isn't with the other lovers of Zeus? I can't think of any other woman who was targeted so much by Hera. One could say she didn't want Leto to give birth because her children would be a competition to Hera's children, but why bother her even after she had already given birth? Is it because Leto herself is also a threat to Hera?

Sort of I guess?

I don't think Leto would ever be a threat to Hera's role as the queen of the gods but Hera might see her as a competitor for Zeus' affection, even though I think Zeus would not marry someone else and replace Hera.

The twins are definitely a big reason why Hera begrudged Leto - it is outright stated in the Callimachus Hymn to Delos that the reason Hera especially targeted Leto was because she was told that Apollo would be dearer to Zeus than Ares is. Zeus is very proud of Artemis as well. As he himself puts it, he doesn't mind facing Hera's wrath for children like her.

But the continued hatred even after the birth of the twins (like sending Tityus to rape Leto) could have been for different reasons. This wasn't like one of those affairs Zeus would have with mortal women where he'd leave them behind once the child is conceived. Neither could Hera, despite her many attempts, get rid of Leto like she did with the other lovers. Not only did Leto give Zeus children that he loves dearly, she also stayed on Olympus despite Hera's hatred towards her (which isn't directed to any of Zeus' other divine mistresses, btw). It might have also been because Leto herself is dear to Zeus, if the way she's treated on Olympus is any proof. In the Homeric hymn to Apollo, Leto stands next to Zeus - in the Olympian assembly - to welcome their son. Hera is completely absent from the scene, as if Leto had taken her place even if temporarily. Now you could say this is because Apollo himself is such a powerful and glorious son in a way that no other son of Zeus is, so of course Leto would get such an honor (the hymn itself presents it this way).

But here's another instance - in the Iliad, when Hera goes to seduce Zeus, he is obviously very smitten but before getting into the action, he lists some of his lovers (I believe these were his favorite lovers, as a lot of others are not mentioned):

"for never has such desire for goddess or mortal woman so gripped and overwhelmed my heart, not even when I was seized by love for Ixion’s wife, who gave birth to Peirithous the gods’ rival in wisdom; or for Acrisius’ daughter, slim-ankled Danaë, who bore Perseus, greatest of warriors; or for the far-famed daughter of Phoenix, who gave me Minos and godlike Rhadamanthus; or for Semele mother of Dionysus, who brings men joy; or for Alcmene at Thebes, whose son was lion-hearted Heracles; or for Demeter of the lovely tresses; or for glorious Leto; or even for you yourself, as this love and sweet desire for you grips me now.’ (Book 14, trans. A. T. Murray)

Notice how when talking about most of them, he also mentions the children they bore to him but when Demeter and Leto are mentioned, he doesn't bring up their children at all despite them being some of the most accomplished kids of his. What's more, he takes Leto's name just before Hera's. I mean, this is an interpretation but it looks like not only did Zeus love Leto the most out of all his mistresses - giving her a place second to that of his wife, but also his love for her wasn't necessarily only because she gave him two amazing children.

Nonnus does something similar in the Dionysiaca (but this time Zeus is enamored with Persephone instead of Hera) but more notably, when Typhoeus attacks Olympus and Zeus is discouraged, Nike takes the form of Leto to encourage him and it's pretty telling of what Leto meant to Zeus.

One interesting similarity between Hera and Leto is that they both had a giant try to rape them. Porphyrion tried to violate Hera (Zeus inspired him to do this) and Tityus tried to violate Leto (upon Hera's order). Though both of them were killed, only Tityus got an eternal punishment in Tartarus of having his liver/heart eaten out by vultures so Zeus seems to have taken a greater offense at Tityus trying to assault Leto.

Again, I don't think Zeus would ever take anyone other than Hera as his permanent wife - she is irreplaceable to him. There's an entire myth about Hera leaving him and Zeus winning her back. Their relationship is obviously complex and involves all kinds of emotions including love and hate. But Leto is continually dear to him as well and that's something Hera can't do much about.

[neferirk-art]

Fanart! For the descent series by the amazing @birdkittenn. If you haven't read it and you love v4v, what are you doing?? Go and read it. Anyways, one particular scene was so funny to me that I decided to draw it. If you want to find out what it is, read "two machines walk into a pyramid".

I drew this piece back in August, right when I was really getting into Ultrakill; and while it's not bad at all, I can really see how my art improved in the last months (when I actually try and don't just goof around), so, yay! Please don't look too close at everything, you will find tons of mistakes. (The switched arms on V2 were done on purpose for composition purposes, tho. Please don't scream at me for that.) But it's still cute enough, so whatever.

And with that, enough rambling.

[machinavocis]

behold, a rough approximation of my car if i plug all the specs of the one i bought into the hyundai website's car builder thing!

[astrxealis]

I ADORE GEN INFORMATION AND HISTORY STUFF SOOO MUCH ... and etc etc etc and and and :(( <3 god i love the plethora of information ik and. etc.

[rcdiostcrs]

you know what, i don't wanna do formal intro posts (i will…… eventually). meet the new pjo kids. like this & i'll come to your dms for plots. click their name to be redirected to their pinterest board for a vibe check.

ceader oliver simmons.

son of cupid. 26 y/o. retired legionnaire, finished his tenure four years ago. name was misspelled on the birth certificate. homeschooled since birth by a crunchy mom. now a silky bitch. anger issues of a mars kid.

cyrene kelsey kamel.

daughter of khonsu's avatar. 22 y/o. legionnaire in her fifth year of service. college athlete: hockey player at iowa univeristy. died at 6 y/o but was brought back by thanatos & osiris. also has the anger issues of a mars kid.

garnett noëlle alaska.

daughter of skadi. 22 y/o. legionnaire in her second year of service. college athlete: figure skater at iowa univeristy. immune to the cold. super sweet & super lazy. shortens her middle name to masculine spelling.

spencer stetson sanders.

son of athena. 25 y/o. goes by his middle name. montanan cowboy. former chess champion. co-parent to a 6 y/o named savvy w/ his ex-gf. need a conversation starter, mention his daughter.

[time-judged-all]

Non powers au ankh is half German half North African. 2 me

[tungledotedu]

uh why the fuck would you say this

this post has 3000 notes and they get worse.

el-shab-hussein has already explained why he no longer shares how he vets individual fundraisers. scammers will use the information to be less obvious, making it more difficult to spot them.

and senatortedcruz's post has no actual proof of a widespread scam. that is a serious accusation to make, yet people are reblogging it and accepting it as true with no evidence. i won't deny that there are individual grifters on tumblr, but there are accounts like @/neechees, kyra45 and anonthescambuster that will help you avoid them. hussein even has a #scam alert tag for this purpose.

it's racist to spread misinformation about a supposed large-scale deception posing as fundraisers, not to mention dangerous because this makes it less likely for gazans to get what they need to survive and escape relentless airstrikes. we've already seen the consequences of this bias. some of these people are all too happy to be cops and harass or report gazans thinking they're bots or 'spamming' inboxes.

almost nobody on that post is encouraging others to donate to organisations or other vetted lists like those by operation olive branch, which has a faq sheet that explains how they verify fundraisers. i suspect this is an attempt to discourage people from helping palestinians altogether.

gazans are making fundraisers because they have no other choice. many of them cannot work and earn money as their workplaces have been destroyed. some have been disabled by injuries thanks to the iof's targeting of civilians. the fault is on israel for besieging them and on the egyptian government for exploiting their need to evacuate.

they're doing this for the same reason they have been posting photographs and videos of genocide so that people will pay attention to their suffering, so the world will not forget. is it such a leap in logic to understand they will also use social media to start fundraisers? do you just expect them to sit there and die in silence? so you can ignore them and your countries can keep arming israel as it commits atrocities?

[seattlesellie]

ೀ spoiled. ( part one )

📞🕯️🎀 ₊˚⊹♡ “ baby , can you call me back ? i miss you … it’s so lonely in my mansion … “ 🧸🪽🍬

pairing: ellie williams x rich fem!reader

synopsis: the mansion you live in is getting too cold , the silence is way too silent , and not even reruns of sex & the city can help … long story short , you’re feeling lonely . wonder if you can think of someone in your contacts that can help and warm you up , a certain classmate perhaps ?

warnings: girly reader , kind of desperate loser ellie , bratty spoiled rich reader so don't read if that annoys you , allusion to smut , actual smut will be in the second chapter , this is dirty so mdni as usual !

an: i wrote this such a long time ago and it wasn't supposed to be two parts but well now it is !! i will start writing the second part if u guys want to so don't be shy in my inbox. not proofread unfortunately ♡

A perfectly manicured hand rests on the fluffy white and silky smooth duvet. the Egyptian cotton, to be exact, is nothing but lavish, a sanctuary of indulgence in the realm of your own private luxury. Then, you tap your nails atop it, and the fabric crinkles. You gently sigh, but it's more so a grumble, and reach over for the ‘Dunkin’ cup standing on your wooden bedside table. It perfectly matches every single one of the furniture in your extravaganza of a walk in closet, and the bed-frame as well. You take a slow, indulgent sip out of the icy cold drink, take an ice cube out with a straw, and gently suckle on it. You place the drink back on the table, shifting your gaze back over to the flat screen television.

Carrie forgave Mr. Big again, and now she’s seen frantically pacing around the streets of New York City in her shiny Manolo Blahniks. You arch your brows, humming in high pitched amusement. you have the exact same pair!

Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda always seem to bring you a sense of comfort. Usually, your bed brings you a sense of comfort as well, and so does an icy drink with specifically eight cubes of ice. Your room smells like French vanilla, a tinge of cinnamon, and the sweetest pie you’ve never learned how to bake. Most of the time, you’d bask in the scent and feel nice, and cosy, and your nose would scrunch and your nostrils would flare out, then you’d open your favorite food delivery app and order a nice ol’ package of nine chocolate chip cookies. Then, you’d pop open a bottle of champagne and indulge yourself in the sweets deliciousness.

But your appetite is less existent than snow in the middle of August.

You’re also freezing cold, fuzzy socks and all — goosebumps rising on your skin and feeling sharp like Japanese knives.

Your best friend of a white home cat, Toodle, elegantly extends his supple frame, his lithe form gracefully ascending to nestle within the cradle of your neck. His bell gently dingles, he yawns and mellifluously meows. Right now, it sounds more like an old mans groan.

“I know, Toots… m’bored too. And cold, Jesus…” you mutter towards Toodles, who, in his usual aloof manner, closes his eyes and surrenders to the soothing hum of his purring. You puff some air out of your mouth, brain wheels turning as to find out what’s the cause of this blue mood. The air conditioning is completely turned off, you’re sure of it, and the fireplace crackles with warmth. Your entire moisturized body is covered up by a ridiculously expensive thick blanket, and it’s not the short VS nightie that makes you feel freezing, you’re convinced of that. For some reason, the frosty sensation persists. You smack your lip-glossed lips before bumping your head against your mountain of pillows, emitting a low grunt of exasperation.

You don’t know the reason for your boredom, or for this bum mood, because albeit you’ve seen this episode about a gazillion times, it never fails to entertain the shit out of your brain.

Maybe it’s due to the fact that you’re entirely alone (except for Toddles, of course, can't forget him) in a 10,000 square feet mansion. or perhaps it’s because the only lit room inside the mansion is your own.

But then you roll your eyes, because your parents are always away (at St. Tropez this time), so feeling alone isn’t a new and strange concept.

Alas, being alone isn’t the same as being lonely.

Your face twists at the depressing thought, ew. You’re not lonely, just… bored, and unamused, and the icy drink isn’t sweet enough and Carrie’s getting on your last nerve, and the 1,000 dollar blanket is starting to itch the hell out of your hyper-sensitive skin.

Which is why you get up from the bed in a moment of eureka, landing your feet against the fuzzy carpet and slide them into your Ugg’s. “Uh huh!” you chirp, you finally got it.

You’re experiencing an old friend of a feeling called (drumroll…) — anxiety, over your unfinished chem project! It must have masked itself in the form of frigidness and discomfort and loneliness.

But the project isn’t even due till next week, and you rarely get stressed over college stuff unless they’re due the next day and you’re sitting, staring down at your laptop screen, trying to communicate with it through telepathy or something of that sort.

Somaybeit’snotanxiety and maybeyou’rejustloney.

You shake away that uneasy and irritating thought, and sit your pretty butt down on the rolling chair. You click your shiny glittery pen (that always sheds some glitter onto your hand) and open up the thick as brick textbook.

You read the first question out loud.

The correct formula for aluminum nitrate is…

Valentino’s Lòco Toile Iconographe shoulder bag in hot pink?

Nope.

You shake your head, you have got to focus. You place your chin atop your palm and click the pen once more.

Al(NO2)3? or maybe it’s Al(NO3)3…

or maybe you’re so far off you need to close the book shut and throw it out of the window. You’ve always sucked at chemistry.

Which is why you were assigned to be tutored by that auburn haired, green eyed, slightly sullen, tatted up girl who went by "Ellie" — or "El", but you didn't know her like that.

Ellie, is the one who stuttered out your name as she realized you weren’t paying attention to her tutoring, as you had your gaze fixated on the black ink etched on her forearm, a half-covered flannel and a canvas of delicate veins. A bug, adorned with intricate botanical details, unfurled its wings across her skin.

“S’uh… A moth, with ferns around it n’stuff. It’s kind of faded now though”

Her voice was raspy and husky, and she stuttered out your name. Usually, you’d hate it when people got nervous around you. It made you feel odd, ostracized, and you always insisted — you were so damn sweet, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You wore sweet perfume, sweet as goddamn cherries and cupcakes, and your voice was soft and you always smiled brightly, and so what if your purse cost more than a college tuition?

But her nerves didn’t annoy you. In fact, you found them charming, and you found her sweet. You found that all of her “Uhhh” ‘s, and her “Mhhm” ‘s, all of her stammering and her lack of ability to keep eye contact with you to be… infatuating.

Then there was that rich voice, and those eyes, that smile, those hands, those damn toned arms, those biceps and the haircut, the way two short strands of hair always framed her face perfectly and her scent — that you could tell was just a cheap cologne, but mixed with her unique fragrance, proved nothing short of intoxicating.

It was also the fact that she seemed to damn know everything — and that she was always ahead of you, and that her face always bore that coy little smirk when you got a question wrong (which you seemed to get more often than not), and that she would grab your Swarovski pen out of your hand and scribble down the answer for you, just to explain it in detail later.

The way she licked over her bottom lip and bit as wrote down.

With her long fingers and all.

When she spoke, her breath smelled of mint and the faintest tinge of weed, which made you think of how lovely it must be to be able to transform into a damn joint just so she could place you in her mouth and suck —

now you’re sticky, and god now you really are distracted, and not by a cute purse or the sound of rain pouring down on your window. Toodles stretches his tiny limbs and you hear his bell faintly dingle again. He climbs down from your princess bed and jumps up to sit at your lap. You caress down his white fur and he purrs.

You wonder if Ellie likes cats.

You know she likes pussy.

You have got to get a grip.

You massage your temples, attempting to focus on the written down questions again, but the words and the numbers seem to mix into a cacophony of odd symbols and letters, and you’re still so goddamn cold.

Albeit your eyelids droop down slowly, eyes spazzing out of focus, the assignment must be done today.

“Just, finish the damn work and go to sleep. Yup.” You mumble to yourself, a habit you picked up as a result of being alone for most of your childhood, and having to opt for the help of imaginary friends to keep you comfort. Alas, you’re older now and only have yourself to talk to.

You try and follow your command.

The problem is, you don’t know jack shit.

You wish Ellie was here, with her hair sticking to her forehead and your pen in her hand and her old chuck’s glued to her feet, as she sits down on the spare chair aside you with her jaw resting on her knees.

You wish you could hear her faint chuckle as you get another question wrong.

As a tutor, of course.

Not even as a friend, because she’s not.

Definitely not as a lover, obviously, because that would truly be so far fetched from reality — although… right now, you can’t help but think of the way her eyes fall down to your chest as a crimson blush creeps up her cheeks.

And you keep thinking about the time you purposely let your bra strap cascade down your shoulder, just because you wondered how she’d react — Which was with averting her gaze to the side and clearing her throat. Now you think of the time you wore an extra short mini skirt, not that different from the rest of them although a bit tinier, and how you kept rubbing your thighs together just to see whether she’d notice or not, which she did…

You groan and slap your palm against your forehead.

Then, you stare at another question and then at your phone. Toodles chimes in with a high-pitched meow.

“Oh my gosh Toots, so true! I should text her the questions, duh”

You’re not delusional at all, by the way.

So you send her your address.

In the meantime, you make sure your studying environment and your room are as tidy as possible. You grab your sparkly pink pen and place it near the textbook, and you grab a matte black pen for Ellie as well, a thoughtful gesture.

You also apply some strawberry scented moisturizer on your body, and spray your sickly sweet perfume on your pule points.

You slip your feet out of your slippers, and you wear your favorite heels. However, you keep your little nightie on. You’re supposed to feel comfortable, this is your house after all, and the heels — are just a courtesy, you are expecting company, and opening the front door with house slippers is entirely rude, and the silky robe… It’s long enough and proper. Ish.

You stare at your reflection down the mirror, and for some reason, you feel utterly nervous. You’re all dolled up for a person who isn’t a stranger, but who also isn’t a friend. When you coat your lips with some minty gloss, Toodles stretches his tail upwards and meows.

“Psh. Do not judge me, Toots. This is normal, I do this all the time”

Which again is a total and complete white lie, because if it was a regular friend coming over, you wouldn’t have even bothered to fix up your makeup, and you’d barely even get up from the comfort of your own bed.

As a matter of fact, not many people come by your house at all. You have your fair share of friends, but you’d much rather hang out by the mall or at one of their mansions, yours always feels just, utterly suffocating — as giant and spacey as it might be. And sure, you’ve had hook ups before, but you always went rigid when they tried to slip past your panties, and you were always… dry, as an autumn leaf.

Ellie makes you feel anything but dry.

Physically — you shake your head and try getting rid of the thought by giving yourself some good old whiplash.

You find yourself pacing around your room, until you manage to cascade downstairs as soon as you hear the bell ring. With each step you take, your heel taps the lavish ceramic pavement.

“Stay”, you gesture towards your fluffy feline companion, who responds with a squinting of his eyes. “Don’t freak out our company”

You look at Ellie’s face from the intercom’s shiny screen. You look at it so hard you nearly forget to press on the button that’s purpose is to let your tutor-guest in. A couple of strands of her auburn bangs stick to her forehead. Ellie scratches her eyes with the back of her hands and she straightens up her spine. As she waits for the gate to open, she puffs some air from her cheeks. She attempts to fix her eyebrows with the tips of her fingers, and seems to be murmuring something underneath her breath.

You’re not the best at lip reading, but your gut tells you she just whispered a “Hi”, and added your name, then — “Hey” adding your name once more.

It’s absolutely impossible for her to not be aware of how stupidly and irritatingly cute she is.

You press on the button and clear your throat. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t practice your greeting in front of a mirror as well. Your robe cascades down your shoulder, you fixate on it and contemplate pulling up the fabric.

Toodles meows once more.

Yup. You should keep it down.

It takes Ellie a good five minutes to walk the full distance from the front gate to your huge white door.

Then she knocks three times on the wood, and you squeak like a mouse although you really were fully prepared.

Your tutor wears a blue flannel with a white undershirt tucked beneath. The first button is opened, revealing a tiny piece of her pale skin. Below, her legs are covered with tight skinny jeans with a tear on the knee (you’re not sure if she fell or if it’s done purposely so), and to your surprise — no Chuck’s, but Doc Martens.

Noted. She has more than one pair of shoes.

When you greet Ellie with a cheerful — yet ever so relieved and breathy “Hi”, you kiss her on the cheek like you do all of your friends, and you can smell that cheap cologne again.

Amber, citrus, musk, lavender.

There’s a hint of actual Ellie in the mix as well — smoke, herbs, sweat… did she run here?

When you hug Ellie you focus on her scent.

When you hug Ellie she focuses on absofuckinglutely nothing — Her body goes rigid and stiff and she doesn’t hug you back until two way too long seconds pass, and she finally manages to place her hand on your waist.

But she doesn’t hug or squeeze, she rests it there.

Then she coughs.

“Hey”

You take a step back and you can tell she’s a bit flushed, or flustered — but you take it as her just running. You lean your hand against one of the thick pillars. Her orbs travel frantically from your eyes down to your… legs, that are completely bare and smooth and shiny, then they run down to your feet, which are covered with heels…

You think she might say something about it, about you, how ridiculous you look, so you’re washed up with self consciousness and shyness which is something you rarely get to feel, unless you’re with that damn girl for some reason.

Then her eyes hyper-focus on… the ceiling?

You grant Ellie a half smile and you really yearn to break the silence — but she’s ahead of you. Again.

“It’s… you have a really high ceiling” she says, then immediately glues her eyes on to the floor.

“Uh, shiny floor…” she chuckles so freaking awkwardly, grazing the bottom of her left legs doc’s on the floor so it squeaks. Immediately, Ellie apologizes.

“Shit, sorry, my shoes fuckin’ muddy. I uh, ran here”

You gingerly smile and furrow your brows. You theory has been proven correct. “You ran?”

“Walked, like, not ran ran”

There’s the tiniest droplet of sweat on Ellie’s forehead, which she wipe’s swiftly and clumsily with the back of her hand when she notices your eyes scan it. Oh, she ran ran alright. You do feel a little bad, picturing Ellie’s shoes hitting below her ass as she runs through the streets of your city, with a packed and awfully heavy mauve backpack — smacking against her back with every step she takes. You almost pout, you’re still leaning against the pillar and you smack your lips together — gloss and all, out of habit.

“Could’a given you a ride, y’know” you light sweetly. Ellie’s scarred eyebrow arches up in response. “You have a license?”

You so want to shove her shoulder playfully, but you’re convinced it’ll make her go absolutely rigid again. Physical contact bricks her up — noted.

“Why is that such a surprise?” you flash her a teasing smile. She smiles back at you.

“S’just, thought you’d have a personal driver. Can’t really imagine you driving that monster of a Rover back there —“

You nod in complete amusement. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Ellie teases, followed by a throaty chuckle. “Plus, took you more of a passenger princess type of girl”

And that sentence shouldn’t make you stutter the way you do next. It shouldn’t, but it does. You back away slowly and Ellie follows your footsteps.

“T-that’s, awfully presumptuous” you chirp. Her boots stomp on the floor and your heels click clack. “Plus, I don’t drive that Rover. My car’s in the garage with the rest of ‘em” you say matter-of-factly.

Ellie scoffs impishly behind you. You walk up the stairs and she follows suit. She’s confident when she teases, you think, which is a tad different than her usual awkward self, but if only you knew she nearly slipped down one of the steps as she noticed the tiniest, delicious, most precious piece of your flesh that was just exposed behind you as a result of your incredibly short nightie.

“Psh, so presumptuous”

As you walk towards your room, Ellie walks behind you although she has more than enough space to walk besides you. You get the feeling that she's nervous, even after her teasing and all, and you don't have to wonder why too much. Your house is huge, intimidating, filled with strange sculptures and paintings by obscure artists regular people have never even heard of. You don't have just one living room, you have three, and in each and every one of them stands a different technology piece of some sort. Also, your heels cost more than her outfit, could be more worth than the entirety of her damn closet, and most importantly — you're walking with a pink robe and some heels on.

When you reach your room, Ellie awkwardly smiles and straightens her muscular back. Then, she holds on to the straps of her backpack.

"First of all" you sigh, and now it's your turn to feel coy. "Thank you for coming over so late. I know it's like, absolutely ridiculous, and you know, you don't get paid for this so...", you flash Ellie an endearing smile, the apples of your cheeks rising sweetly as a humble thank you. "And, second of all... jus'... brace yourself?"

Ellie's brows arch up, but before she has time to ask — oh.

You both step into your lit room. Toodles follows by closely, entering the room as well, whilst rubbing his furry back against Ellie's calves.

"Yup..."

Ellie's fingers instinctively clasp onto the straps of her backpack once more, her eyes widening ever so slightly, but she fights to seem as unsurprised as she can — she fails miserably, because she gasps a little.

Your room is nothing but a... cotton candy dream world. A wall that's painted in pretty dusty pink, a princess bed that's nothing but a regal centerpiece. Above the bed, a canopy of gossamer silk drapes from a custom-crafted wrought iron frame, And the final sophisticated touch, a grand crystal chandelier, suspended from the ceiling. There are also clothes everywhere, empty water bottles, used sheet masks, a stack of books — some half-read, others forgotten, teetered precariously on a random corner. Ellie sticks out like a sore thumb. She stands out like a neon sign in a library, a skateboard at a black-tie gala.

You like it.

She clears her throat, stepping further into your room. "I take it black is your favorite color?" she titters sarcastically.

You giggle.

"Mhm, also I'm clearly very organized, and I hate clothes" you murmur and point out the pile of dresses haphazardly bunched in the corner of your room.

She should feel out of place. She should probably laugh, even sneak a pic — tell all her "cool" friends about how mindblowingly ridiculous the prissy rich girls room is. Instead, she thinks about how cute you must look cuddled up in a bed this big, how adorable it'd be to see your bed-head poking through the sheets at 8am, how sweet it must be to watch you skip around your room, trying on your shitload of clothes, throwing them in the air and huffing like a medieval brat of a princess. She wants to place a fucking tiara on your head. She sees your sticker collection from the corner of her eye, your vinyls, your candles, your crystals and Toodles' sofa.

And she likes it.

You take a deep breath. You shouldn't even care if she likes it or not, you shouldn't be bothered by it at all — you rarely are, but something inside of you yearns for... something.

"It suits you" she murmurs.

And that's certainly good enough, because it does.

You gesture Ellie to sit on the rolling chair next to yours, and her eyes still roam over the space of your room. “My room looks exactly the same, by the way… same uh, size too… n’stuffed animals… Shit, I like the elephant one”, she sarcastically remarks as she sits on the chair and hunches down, manspreading as she often does. Your eyes can’t help but roam down, because her damn thighs flexed under those jorts and you heard her, but you also kind of didn’t.

Ellie clears her throat and narrows her eyes. Jheez, she thinks, you must be absolutely exhausted since your eyes don’t seem to be able to focus.

“Huh?” you say, startled. You’re still standing up on those heels. Ellie sniffles and chuckles and her voice goes all quiet.

“Said pink nauseates me, that I hate those stuffed animals and that your elephant doll’s ugly as shit”

You roll your eyes and your tongue swipes over your glossy bottom lip. You bite it and you sit down on the chair. Ellie’s eyes scan over your chest and she averts her gaze like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hate you, chem tutor” you huff, resting your head on the palm of your hand. Ellie doesn’t maintain a second of eye contact but she chuckles and it’s cocky.

“You need me, and you need an A in chemistry”

You like that side of her.

You let your eyes blink lazily at her, a cheeky little smirk forming on your lips. When you open your mouth again, just to smack it on your glossy lips, you brush your leg ‘accidentally’ against hers, and rigid she goes. “Mhm, I definitely need you, Ellie…”

The apples of Ellie’s cheek shine in bright crimson and her hand flexes. She grabs her pen and clicks on it once. You didn’t mean it like that, she so obviously knows or believes, but it matters nonetheless. You like that side of her so much more.

You cross your pretty legs and let the tip of your heel graze her chair. “So, you want a drink before we start studying?”, you’re way too damn close, she nods — but she doesn’t need a ‘drink’ she needs a damn water fountain that directly flows onto her mouth and satisfies that damn drench. Is it possible for her damn knee to feel hot? Why is her knee feeling hot?

“Anything specific?”

“Jus’ waters fine” Ellie manages to murmur, lips forming a teeny tiny, shy, crescent smile.

“I was thinking more… like, wine? I have a wine cooler n’my room… if you wanted water i’d have to like, go downstairs and… It’s so lonely in there” your voice is saccharine, delicate, and it and coaxes Ellie’s mind.

“Wine’s perfect, I love wine” says Ellie.

She hates wine.

“Mhm, red or white?” — Your question comes when you lift your butt off the chair and walk slowly towards the cooler.

“Uh, r-red. S’much… richer” Ellie falters, remembering vaguely the time Joel had mentioned white wine’s for pussies. When she tried a red one, she gagged.

“Impressive” you note.

Ellie rolls the chair with the help of her heavy Doc's, and watches as you pour the red liquid into two delicate glasses. Your leg, she notices, is clad with a shiny, delicate golden piece of jewelry. Her eyes scan upwards, towards your bare thighs — the flesh is glistening, almost appearing as if it's covered with oil. Her mind drifts elsewhere, to a world in which your nightie is nothing but nonexistent, and those thighs...

Her stomach grumbles, she firmly holds onto it. Why NOW.

"Hungry?" you place the glass on the table, slightly nudging it towards Ellie.

She's starving.

you flash her a devilish smirk, cocking your head to the side.

"Oh, uhh... nope"

Famished.

[heritageposts]

A week ago, US President Joe Biden claimed that a “ceasefire” deal in Gaza was imminent and could take effect as soon as March 4. “My national security adviser tells me we are close,” he told reporters while eating ice cream in New York City. But ice cream or not, Biden’s actual position was not nearly that sweet. A subsequent statement by a senior Biden administration official claimed Israel had “basically accepted” a proposal for a temporary pause in fighting. But as of March 4, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and his Mossad director were still refusing to send a delegation to Cairo, where talks with Hamas were under way. The Biden administration’s eagerness to claim victory in its search for some kind of temporary truce indicates how much it is feeling the heat of the rising global and domestic pressure demanding an immediate ceasefire, an end to the Israeli genocide, an end to the threat of a new escalation against refugee-packed Rafah, and an end to the siege of Gaza and immediate unhindered provision of massive levels of humanitarian aid. Despite Washington’s vain hopes for March 4 and the unofficial goal of a ceasefire by the beginning of the Muslim holy month of Ramadan on March 10, the deal remains elusive. Media reports indicate Biden is telling the Qatari and Egyptian leaders that he is putting pressure on Israel to agree to a truce and a captives swap. But his claim of pressuring Israel is undermined by the continuing US vetoes of ceasefire resolutions at the United Nations Security Council, most recently on February 20, as well as the continuing flow of United States weapons and money to Israel to enable its assault.

And, on the alternative resolution the Biden admin has put forth after vetoing Algeria's resolution (which called for an "immediate humanitarian ceasefire," "forced displacement of the Palestinian civilian population," and "unhindered humanitarian access to Gaza."):

[...] Linda Thomas-Greenfield, Biden’s ambassador to the UN, cast the sole veto against the Algerian resolution, and instead put forward an alternative US text, claiming it also supported a ceasefire. But the proposed US language does not call for an immediate or permanent ceasefire or an end to Israeli genocide; it does not prevent an attack on Rafah or end the Israeli siege. The proposed US resolution is not designed to end the murderous Israeli war against Gaza – nor is the deal that is currently being negotiated in Cairo. To the contrary, the provisions of the US draft resolution reflect the true intentions of the Biden administration vis-a-vis its continuing support of Israel, and reveal the limitations of the truce it is trying to orchestrate. While the US draft resolution does use the dreaded word “ceasefire” – which had been prohibited in the White House for months – it does not call for an immediate halt in the bombing, only “as soon as practicable”, with no indication of when that might be. It does not call for a permanent ceasefire either, leaving Israel free to resume its genocidal bombing – presumably with continuing US support. Virtually everything the US draft calls for is undercut by what is left out. The demand for “lifting all barriers to the provision of humanitarian assistance at scale” in Gaza certainly sounds appropriately robust. But that’s only until you realise that the text’s failure to challenge or even name the principal barrier to aid getting in – Israel’s bombardment – means that this is not a serious plan to end Israel’s deadly siege. It should not surprise anyone that “the Biden administration is not planning to punish Israel if it launches a military campaign in Rafah without ensuring civilian safety” – as Politico reported – despite claiming it wants a credible plan to ensure Palestinian safety. No one in the Biden administration has even hinted at imposing consequences for Israel’s constant rejection of the insipid appeals for restraint – such as conditioning aid on human rights standards (as required by US law) or cutting US military aid altogether. That’s what real pressure would look like. A more accurate picture of Washington’s approach to Israel’s war against Gaza is the continuing US pipeline of weapons to make Israel’s murderous assault on Gaza more effective, more efficient, and more deadly. According to the Wall Street Journal, the “Biden administration is preparing to send bombs and other weapons to Israel that would add to its military arsenal even as the US pushes for a ceasefire in Gaza.” The arms the US intends to hand over to the Israeli army include MK-82 bombs, KMU-572 Joint Direct Attack Munitions and FMU-139 bomb fuses, worth tens of millions of dollars. It is more than likely that the administration will do another end run around US Congress to send the weapons without relying on congressional approval, as it did on at least two occasions last December.

. . . full article on Al Jazeera (4 Mar 2024)

[0alix0]

Rook's backgrounds make no sense or gatekeeping is good, actually

It's didn't sit well with me ever since bioware admitted that all 6 background for Rook can be played by any race you choose

Looking back at Origins it's clear why most of the backgrounds were race-specific. Not only it provided a better understanding of the separate cultures (you wouldn't really understand what dwarfs are about if you were able to play as a surface dwarf commoner) it also established the rules of the world (elves are opressed, you can't become a queen/king cuz the nobles will riot, humans colonize them and inforce their religion and rules on everyone, dwarfs are considered weird)

Now, looking at the veilguard, I can't help but ask:

How can a fully grown dalish with vallaslin be a crow? They buy slaves as a way to get more assassins, usually elves, children, so they could easier ruin their psyche. why the hell would a dalish stand for it?

How can a qunari be a Gray Warden? Wardens don't discriminate, sure, but this far, we haven't even heard of a qunari warden. Rook should be a legend, Rook should be questioned at actually being a warden by NPCs, OR sit in some Warden outpost and being studied by their mages, because no one actually knows how Blight and joining might work with Kossith body instead of running around with Varric.

Veiljumpers were organized by dalish, right? Then why in the world would a human be allowed to join? How and why did they change their minds to accept literally anyone, even if it's a potential threat/thief(Morrigan)/zealot/etc..?

How can a dwarf, someone who isn't even connected to the fade be a Veiljumper?

How can a dwarf be a part of the Mourn Watch? A Mortalitasi, an exclusively MAGE order? What can they even do?? Preform a non magical mummifications with herbs and salts like Egyptians did? Sweep the mausoleum? Be some sort of a funeral organizer/lawyer/genealogist? That could've been really interesting if only the game actually bothered to say anything about it. It did not

"Well it's up to your headcanons!" then why make the backgrounds in the first place??? They don't matter anyway!

I mean, obviously it was just a way to promote the game to older fans. Look, the backstories! The thing you've been craving for is back in game! Only they forgot what actually made them so great. The most important part. They mattered, they created a basis for my character. They gave them families, connections. They changed the way my character is perceived (elves in general) and what they can do plotwise (become a monarch/paragon).

I don't fucking care if 3-5 NPCs might have some additional dialogues for me, cuz they don't matter anyway. I don't even know these people, i never met them before, my character did, but I didn't. And now I don't care enough to know. like, i'm playing as a mourn watcher, but before going to Nevarra i barely knew anything about them, and what i know now is still rather surface level shit

Let alone the fact that all the backgrounds are practically the same. You pissed off some influencial people by doing good and was send away. Bravo.

........if this post gets one like I'm writing my own ideas for DA4 protagonist's backgrounds

[avelera]

thesis about the sea peoples you say? may i request an infodump about the sea peoples?

Heya!

So, basically in college (undergraduate) I got really obsessed with the questions around the Collapse of the Aegean Bronze Age, mostly because I wanted to set my big Magnum Opus historical fiction novel in that time, and the deeper I dug into the rabbit hole the more it appeared that no one, absolutely no one, actually knows why the civilizations around the Mediterranean all fell from a state of pretty sophisticated internationally-trading civilizations to literal Dark Ages (all except for Egypt which was substantially weakened and never really recovered), all at once around 1200-1100 BCE.

The Sea Peoples are the names of the only contemporary (Egyptian) account we have that names who might have been responsible if this collapse was due to an invasion. It's a popular theory because a viking-style invasion is a much sexier reason for a civilization to collapse so we all gather around it like moths to flame. But the thing is, there's a lot of contradictory evidence for and against and shading that hypothesis.

Suffice to say, literally no actually knows what happened and almost every answer comes up, "Some combination of these things, probably?"

But what makes the Collapse even more interesting from a modern perspective is that if there was a historical Trojan War (and I think there was) as fictionalized in the Iliad and the Odyssey (and Song of Achilles, for the Tumbrlistas), then it would have taken place within a generation of the entire civilization that launched the Trojan War crumbling to dust.

So like, if you're Telemachus, your dad Odysseus fights in the Trojan War, some even manage to get home, and then like... everything goes to shit. Catastrophically. And doesn't recover for 400 years.

Seriously, they lost the written word, like how to actually write things down and read them and it took 400 years to get it back. That's how fucked shit got during the Collapse of the Bronze Age.

So my thesis was asking: what if these two things were related? What if the Trojan War either led to the Collapse or it was part of the Collapse or it was a result of the Collapse? Because the timeline is so unknown and muddled that it really could be any of those and again, that's if the Trojan War isn't entirely fictional (which I don't think it is, but many academics disagree, it used to be a whole thing up until Schliemann dug it up, and many doubted it was ever a historical event even after that.)

Ok, so at the risk of writing 75 pages on this again, let me just say:

My conclusion (more of a hypothesis proposal ultimately since there are so many gaps in our knowledge) was that the Trojan War took place before the Collapse of the Bronze Age. But, it might have been launched in response to a wider breakdown in trades routes and resources, causing the Greeks to launch the campaign basically as a bid to replenish their own coffers because they were getting squeezed by what they didn't know was the first rumblings of a global domino effect.

Therefore, since taking out Troy didn't solve those larger trends and forces, they all went home and then got slammed by the REAL problem, which was all the people who had been displaced from further away by this rolling drought or invasion or whatever that was disrupting these delicate international trade routes.

But the Greeks might have been part of the Sea Peoples too! Our only record of the Sea Peoples is from the Egyptians in a highly propagandistic text which makes them sound like this big fearsome foe but that might have been because saying, "We slaughtered a bunch of desperate refugees at our border who were looking for shelter," didn't sound as cool. If the Greeks (or Achaeans or Ahhiyawa) got swept up in this slow-rolling collapse/displacement of people, then they absolutely could have been among those refugees who crashed against the shores of Egypt.

A lot of my evidence was based on looking at how Troy was sacked (it was stripped literally down the nails and there was a lot of evidence of a long-term siege, like what we read about in the Iliad) vs. how Mycenae (Agamemnon's city) or Pylos (King Nestor's city) was sacked, where they were burned and stuff was stolen but they weren't stripped, it looks more like a standard looting hit-and-run type thing. Which led me to believe that it was different turmoil that rocked Mycenae and Pylos than what led to the sacking of Troy, despite the fact these things happened within about 20 years of each other. (Helen being a made-up reason for a resource-driven war would only be the oldest trick in the book, as far as propaganda goes, after all.)

But really, the craziest detail I'll leave you with is: we just don't know! And then it gets weirder. Because the Hittites fell at the same time so the Hittites scholars say, "Nah, the Sea Peoples weren't Hittites, they were probably Greeks." And the GREEK scholars say, "It wasn't us, it was probably the Hittites or someone else. " and the EGYPTIAN scholars say, "Yeah it was someone north of Egypt, maybe the Hittites or the Greeks." and the LEVANT scholars say, "It wasn't from the Levant, we know what was going on there, it has to be from somewhere else."

Literally every single possible source of the Sea Peoples has the scholars who specialize in that location saying it's not them and it must be the guy next door.

It's maddening!

And then there's a big ol' gap around Bulgaria and the Black Sea because, oh yeah, the Soviet Union forbade archaeology in those areas to quash any local pride so those places that were behind the Iron Curtain are decades behind on scholarship that would allow them to say, "Oh hey, it was actually us! Yeah, the invaders came from Bulgaria and got pushed down by a famine." or something to that effect.

We also have some histories from the time saying that the Sons of Heracles returned not long after the Trojan War to lay Greece to waste! And it's really evocative and sounds like it fits what we've got of all these burned cities that happened right after Troy fell! Except that's in doubt now too!

The latest theory is that it was climate change that led to a massive drought. You can read about it in the latest and most popular book on the subject, 1177 BCE which I highly recommend because if it had existed when I wrote my thesis, I wouldn't have had to write it.

But I disagree with the conclusion! Or rather, I'm skeptical. Because very decade, the problems of the day have been hypothesized as being the cause of the Collapse. Like, in the 60s, there was a theory that maybe it was internal strife around a labor strike, like the French Revolution. And y'know when there's a world war, they think it's an invasion. And there was a theory that it was 'cuz of an earthquake (I think that one is nonsense, Mediterranean civilizations famously bounce back quickly from earthquakes.) And now that climate change is on our mind, I'm a little weary to see that it's the new theory because it feels way too much like we're just projecting our problems onto this giant question mark.

Was climate an aspect! I think so! I think it might have contributed to the break down in trade routes that made everyone in the Mediterranean really stressed out and hostile and warlike and led to a lot of displacement. I'm not sure if it's the only reason though and I think the book just kinda reiterates everyone else saying, "I think it was this but in the end, we just don't know, and it was probably a lot of things." which we've known for ages so it's just repeating all the same conclusions. *sigh*

... Like I said, I wrote my thesis on this so yeah, I could go on for a while lol.

[melon-fodder]

-> KINKTOBER MASTERLIST <-

♡ WARNINGS: reader has a pussy and tits, rough sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, demeaning pet names (doll, sweetheart, bitch), outdoor sex, forced proximity, toji is insufferably hot, kinda dub-con

♡ WORD COUNT: 3.5k

♡ NOTE: was so hoping I would get this one done and I did, so ha! For anyone who has been brought here by this piece, please know I do not regularly post JJK, so sorry! Enjoy reading~

This cabin is a joke. Unliveable. He shouldn’t be in a shithole like this. Toji comes from money. He’s used to living in luxury–penthouses with big screens and full bars, king-sized beds with sheets made from Egyptian cotton.

So the goddamn cot in this fucking Lincoln Logs-ass shack is frankly insulting, and if he wasn’t in hiding, he would march right into his pretentious boss’ office and give him a piece of his mind and maybe the barrel of his gun.

The only good thing about Toji’s current predicament is that he’s not alone. You are also with him, two assassins laying low in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Of course, he may as well be all by himself; it’s not as if you’re actually paying him any attention.

You’re pissed at him, acting like a little bitch because he may have almost botched a job the two of you were on. So what? The guy is still dead. Riddled with a few too many bullets, sure, but that’s neither here nor there.

At least Toji still gets to ogle you, watch you shuffle around the cabin in leggings and loose sweatshirts. No bra, either. Yeah, he’s seen the way your nipples peek out from under the material. Fucking tease. Just as tempting as the way spandex hugs your ass and, in some cases when Toji is lucky, perfectly outlines what he knows must be the prettiest little pussy.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you bite out, glaring at him from over your mug of steaming tea.

Toji smirks, spread out on the threadbare couch while you stand in the shitty kitchen about six feet away from him. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, doll.”

“Oh, fuck you. You’ve been watching me like I’m your next target. I’m getting tired of it.”

“Well, boo-fucking-hoo,” he sneers. “There’s nothing better to do in this pile of shit. May as well enjoy the view.”

You set your cup down too forcefully, liquid sloshing out from the side, then stomp over to him, leaning into his space in an oh-so tantalizing way. You’re putting yourself in a real precarious position, he thinks, smart enough to keep his mouth shut as you fume.

“You even think about putting your hands on me, and I swear I’ll turn you into a fucking Ken doll.”

Toji grins sideways. “That mean you’ll touch it?”

The force of your slap is a little jarring, he has to admit, but not at all surprising. You’ve been riled up since the two of you arrived days ago, and Toji is not doing anything to help you relax on your little getaway. The complete opposite, actually. Truthfully, he’s a little impressed that it’s taken you this long to hit him.

But, you made the first move (he loves that in a woman), so he has no choice but to retaliate, swiftly pulling you into his lap, unashamed of his now half-hard dick.

“Jesus Christ, you’re sick,” you yell, struggling in his grip, rubbing your plump little ass all over his cock. “Let go of me!”

“Keep squirmin’ like that, and I’m gonna make a mess in my pants, babygirl.”

Unlikely–he’s not some teenager who’ll cum at a little grinding–but the way your face morphs with disgust is too good. “Would you clean it up for me if I asked nicely?” he teases further, grunts when your heel comes down hard against his shin.

His grip loosens enough for you to escape his hold, and Toji mumbles a dejected, “tease,” as you shoot to the other side of the very small room.

“I will kill you right fucking here if you ever do that again,” you grit through your teeth, hands shaking where they’re balled into fists.

Toji shrugs, annoyed, unsatisfied, and throbbing in the confines of his sweats. “Try it. I’ll have you pinned faster than you can even reach your gun.”

You huff, knowing damn well he’s right. You’re good at killing; he won’t deny that.

He’s just better.

~

Toji starts playing with you more after that, seeing how many of your buttons he can press without actually facing your promised wrath.

It’s the way he stares at you, casually brushing up against you in seemingly innocent ways. He walks around shirtless, making it impossible for you to not look at him.

Really, he just takes up as much room as he possibly can, ensures that you don’t get a moment’s peace. It’s obviously affecting you. He watches you get more and more restless as the days go by. You’re both bored out of your minds with only a few channels on the fucking box television to keep you entertained.

There is literally nothing to do but sleep and fuck. Toji’s been doing a lot of both (though, he wishes it was your pussy he was fucking and not his fist in the shower).

You, however, choose walking over sex, going on long strolls around the perimeter. You say that you’re being vigilant, but Toji knows you’re just trying to get away from him.

“You know, if you’d let me, I could help you relax,” he offers one day, trying to tune out the sound of your never ending footsteps as you pace back and forth. “Seriously, you’ve gotta simmer down.”

“You realize there are several bounties out on both of us right now, right? Like, does that not bother you?”

“Not really,” he replies. “People have been wanting to kill me since I was born. This ain’t nothin’ new.”

You stop pacing and look at him, eyebrows pinched in adorable confusion. “That’s… actually kinda sad.”

“Right?” Toji agrees, pouting dramatically as he tries, “wanna help me feel better about my sad, sordid life?”

He laughs when you groan, scrubbing your hands down your face. “You just won’t fucking quit, will you?”

“Not until I get to feel your pussy squeezin—”

You cut him off, “just stop!” voice all pitchy and grating. However, the next thing out of your mouth is like music to Toji’s ears: “if I let you fuck me, will you get off my back about it?”

He lifts an eyebrow, ignoring the way his cock twitches, then lies through his teeth, “absolutely,” because he already knows that once he’s had you, he’s gonna want you over and over and over again.

Sucking your teeth, you cross your arms over your chest and grumble, “fine,” as your mouth twists downward. “But later. For now I need to be… not around you.”

“Whatever you gotta do to get ready, sweetheart. You know where to find me.”

Except Toji doesn’t stay still for long. He waits for just a few minutes, long enough for you to let your guard down. Long enough for you to get a head start. And then takes off in the same general direction that you did.

You’re nowhere in his line of sight, but you’re easy to follow especially since you don’t actually know you’re being tracked. Your boots leave trails in the brown, fallen leaves, steps echoing off every branch that surrounds you.

A chilly breeze whistles through the trees, but Toji is too hot to really feel it. You may be covered up head to toe in a flannel and tights, but you won’t be for long. Soon, he’ll strip you down, and by that time, you’ll be thankful for the wind.

You move slowly, absentmindedly, look lighter now that you think you’re alone. Your shoulders aren’t as tense, and your fingers move as if you’re rehearsing a song. Different from the high-strung little bitch he’s had to live with for the past week.

Too busy watching you, Toji isn't focused on the ground beneath his feet. The sound of a twig snapping may as well be a gunshot, and you drop into a crouch immediately, neck practically snapping as you twist to find the source: him.

You lock eyes with each other, and something must flash in his, something dangerous—something hungry. He stays still, watching you watch him. Assessing. Registering him as the threat that he is.

“You gonna run from me?” he taunts, and you answer by doing exactly that, taking off at a sprint.

It makes Toji’s blood race in a way he’s only experienced when holding a weapon, when spattered with blood. It’s the rush he feels when he’s holding someone’s life in the palm of his hand.

He hurries after you, not quite at his full speed—that would end this too quickly—but fast enough to keep his heart pumping, quick and heavy where it rattles in his ribcage.

You veer left and he follows, giving you enough space to make you feel like you just might outpace him, that maybe you’ll get somewhere safe.

Boots slipping on the foliage underfoot, you careen forward only to catch yourself on your hands and push forward like a track star. Toji is locked on to your every movement now, the pump of your legs and arms, the way your hair whips around your face, the panicked little noises that slip from your mouth that you think he can’t hear.

Oh, but he can. He hears and sees it all, and he wants it. He wants you.

You have no fucking idea how cute you are like this, eyes widening when you chance a glance over your shoulder to find him gaining on you.

A high pitched shriek, and then he sees it—the ghost of a smile, a hysterical giggle bubbling out of your chest.

Toji feels his face split into a manic grin, desire coursing through his veins, clogging his arteries, making his mouth water and his dick twitch. When he gets his hands on you…

“You havin’ fun?” he calls from behind you, blessed with another look from you, craning your neck to catch a glimpse of him, and it’s that curiosity that cuts this little game short.

You trip over a root and go down hard this time, grunt when all the air is pushed from your lungs. He doesn’t give you the chance to get back up, just puts his foot in the middle of your back to keep you in place.

Toji clicks his tongue in an admonishing tsk, presses down on you with a little more weight when you start to wiggle.

“I see why you’re so scared about those bounties,” he muses, “you’re way too fuckin’ easy to track down.”

“I wasn’t—hh—” he pushes harder just for the fun of it and is rewarded with a little squeak of desperation. “—wasn’t trying to hide.”

“No?” Toji removes his foot only to lower himself, squatting over you as he slinks a hand around your neck and tugs you toward him so that your back bends into a painful arch. “Why’s that?”

“Fuck you,” you manage to gasp, your fingers curling into the dirt, feet scrambling for traction to relieve some of the pressure he’s putting on your spine.

He laughs darkly, “you wanted me to catch you, didn’t you? This your idea of foreplay?”

Without letting you answer, he lets go of you and flips you over, takes in the sight of your heaving chest and the wild look in your eyes.

“Tell me, doll, did that get your pussy wet?” He reaches between your legs, rubs your mound through your tights and smirks at how much heat is radiating from your core.

“Not so much fight in you now, is there?” he teases, licking his lips when you rub yourself against his palm.

“Would you just… nng fuck—just get on with it,” you grit.

“Get on with what?”

“Just fuck me!” you plead. It comes off as a demand, but Toji knows better, appreciates the position you’re in. You’re nothing but a scared dog, snapping at a hand that’s only trying to feed you.

“Right here?” he questions in fake surprise, “in the woods? Dirty girl.”

“Toji, I swear to God—”

He shuts you up with a harsh kiss, the kind that bruises, leaves lips split, swollen, and slick with spit. The kind of kiss that makes you chase him after he’s pulled away.

“You talk too much,” he states plainly, and all you do is slowly blink at him.

Yeah, he’s got you now. You’re fucking hooked, gazing up at him with blown out pupils, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

He’s nearly fully hard, grinds his cock against your stomach so that you can feel what you’ve gotten yourself into. You whimper and roll your hips, baiting him further, but he doesn’t go for it. Not yet.

Instead he sits back on his knees and paws at your tights, starting to pull them down before he gets impatient and simply tears. It doesn’t take much effort; they’re made of cheap material and Toji is, well, stronger than the average person.

You make a noise of protest, but it dies in your throat when he spreads your legs and stuffs your already dripping cunt with two of his fingers.

“I knew you were getting off on that—just like I knew you’d have the most gorgeous fuckin’ pussy,” he drawls, watching the way his fingers split you open and groaning at how warm and soft you are. God damn, you are going to feel divine wrapped around his cock.

“Come on, baby, tell me you liked it…” he licks a stripe up your neck, his free hand slipping under your sweatshirt to grope your tits— “heart’s beating so fast. You excited?”

You shake your head and buck your hips all at once, and when Toji leans close again, you surge up to catch him in another cruel kiss. This time, you fist your hands in his hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt.

He lets you think you’re at least halfway in control, but the longer you taste him, the faster he fingerfucks you, his palm slapping against your clit as he increases the pace until you start to grow tense beneath him.

He knows that look, that tell-tale coil of muscles. You stop kissing him, breaths getting short and quick, but Toji keeps his face close to yours, growls at you to, “look at me while you cum,” as he pulls your first, messy orgasm from you.

You truly are a sight to behold, whole body spasming as your cunt sucks at his fingers. You break his gaze when your eyes roll into the back of your head, lips trembling around poorly formed pleas.

It feels like his last shred of sanity snaps. Seeing you run from him was one thing, triggered something primal in his brain that made him chase—hunt—but this, having you laid out on the dirt and the leaves…

This is how it was always supposed to be, Toji thinks to himself as he pulls his cock free from his pants. It throbs with every beat of his heart, pulsing in his palm and leaking pearly precum.

You’re soft and pliant from your orgasm, offering only a whimper when he readjusts and hikes your leg over his shoulder.

“Gonna be good for me, yeah?” he huffs, lining himself up with your sopping entrance, thick head prodding at your squishy ring of muscle. “Just take it like a good girl, just—”

He cuts himself off with a groan as he starts pushing in, bullying his way into your perfect cunt and reveling in the noises it makes. You suck him deeper and deeper, and Toji laughs at the expression painting your pretty face: shock, maybe a little fear as you struggle to look down at where you’re attached, watching as he fills you inch by inch.

Your body stretches around him, makes him feel like fucking Moses the way your spongy walls make room for his girth.

“Fuck… fuck, Toji, you’re—”

“Sh, sh, I know, sweetheart, just a little more,” he lies. He’s maybe halfway in, but there’s no way he’s stopping now, not until his cockhead is bruising your cervix.

You whine, back arching, and Toji tries to soothe you with a clumsy kiss only to hiss when you catch his lip and bite hard.

He grunts, tries to pull back, but you keep him still, drawing blood from his mouth first then his ribs when you claw at him. He can feel his shirt cling to the shallow wounds and growls when you release him, the sudden loss of pressure just as painful as the initial bite.

“Jesus, woman…”

“You—hah—deserve it,” you choke, stained mouth opening wider and wider with every inward thrust.

Your cry echoes in the woods when he bottoms out without warning, and Toji immediately sets a merciless pace. He watches you coat his thick shaft in cream, your poor little fuckhole so leaky and stretched. The noises you’re making are more animal than human, needy whines and pained grunts as you take everything he has to give.

Toji fists a hand in your hair, gives your head a little shake and watches the way your eyes slowly roll to meet his. Your lips are swollen, still red with his own blood, but they part when he tells you to, “open wide,” so he can spit on your tongue. Toji grins when you swallow, finally finally too out of your damn mind to talk back.

“That’s a good bitch,” he mutters, and when he sees your mouth twitch into a little smile, he pushes further, “that’s all you wanted, yeah? You just needed to be put in your place, huh, baby?”

He throws your other leg over his shoulder and locks both arms behind you, hands curling up your back to grip your shoulders. Rutting into you relentlessly, Toji kisses and bites all over your neck and chest, licking up the drool that slips from your mouth.

You’ll be in a world of pain tomorrow, but you’re tough, so you’ll live. And even if he has to listen to you bitch and moan, it’ll be worth it after feeling your sweet pussy wrapped around him, gushing all over his fat cock with every orgasm he forces out of you.

“T-Ji…”

It comes out more as a cough, one that Toji ignores as he feels his climax approach. He uses you like a toy, fucking into you over and over and committing the sticky squelch of your pussy to memory. He’s gonna replay this masterpiece over and over for years to come, fucking his fist while imagining the way you look right now—tears streaming down the sides of your face, lips spit slick and swollen, skin all bruised up from his own mouth and fingers.

Fuck, you’re gorgeous. You’re gorgeous, and you’re taking his cock so well, pussy swallowing him up and squeezin’ so so nice, he has to let go. He has to—

“Oh fuck, baby, gonna fill you up so good. You ready?”

You respond with a sort of gurgle that Toji takes as confirmation, and after a few more thrusts he empties his heavy balls inside of you. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum so much or so hard in his life, hot white painting your guts in viscous ropes until it starts seeping out around his cock.

Your poor cunt is so swollen, lips all puffy and messy with slick and cum. And that fat little clit—Toji pinches it, probably too mean, and coos at you to relax and take it when you start to sniffle.

“Sorry, baby. Gotta make sure you get yours too, right?” He knows you already have, but he can’t help but toy with you a little longer.

Besides, you’re being so good for him now, so docile as your body twitches, jaw moving like you want to say something but can’t, eyes rolling all around your pretty head until your muscles seize up and you cum for him one more time.

“There we go—that’s a good girl, see?” You blink teary eyes at him, a deep breath shuddering through you as one, maybe two senses return to you. “Feel better?”

You nod slowly as if confused. Or high. Probably the latter considering Toji is feeling pretty stoned too, a little dizzy as he sits up straight and leans back on his heels.

“Good. Next time you need the attitude fucked outta ya’, just tell me instead of actin’ like a bitch, ‘kay?”

A little smirk curls onto your face, and before Toji can react, you’re sitting up with two hands wrapped around his throat.

“Call me that again, and I’ll show you what a bitch can really do.”

Your palm presses against his windpipe in a threatening way. Your eyes shine with dark promise.

And Toji’s cock twitches at the idea of riling you up all over again.

[midnight-in-town]

My take on Sir Crocodile's past, including the possibility of the CrocoParent theory

(Because I can't help thinking about it, in the midst of Kuma and Bonney's heart-wrenching flashback...)

Crocodile is one of the few Warlords we still hardly know anything about, but we're bound to know about his past at some point (same for Mihawk with whom he's currently working, as well as Moria who stole like half (?) of the Rocks Pirates' corpses), starting with the panel that launched all the theories, back in Impel Down :

Thanks to Kuma's flashback, we know Ivankov used to be a slave to the Celestial Dragons up until God's Valley. As for what happened at God's Valley, we don't know the full story yet but what we know is that...

...the Rocks Pirates were defeated and disbanded by the alliance between Garp and Roger. Some (?) of them were cloned by MADS (like Stussy for a still unknown reason) and Roger then became the next biggest threat of piracy.

Their leader's name was Xebec and other people have already explained that it possibly is related to Sebek/Sobek, an ancient Egyptian deity represented either in its form or as a human with a crocodile head. And, as we all know thanks to the Alabasta arc, Sir Crocodile is strongly associated with Sobek/Sebek too.

From there, it's not a stretch to imagine that Sir Crocodile is Rocks D. Xebec's child and was also present on God's Valley, which is how Crocodile and Ivankov possibly first "met". Ivankov witnessed Rocks' defeat as well as his child's survival...

...probably thanks to Whitebeard. Because, considering how the government tracked Ace and Luffy because of their dads, it's clear that any child of Xebec would be hunted by the government just as much and, like he did for Ace, Whitebeard probably saved and offered shelter to Xebec's kid for a while.

Whitebeard saving Croc as a child on God's Valley could be the reason why Croc seemingly hated Whitebeard so much : Whitebeard saving him instead of avenging Rocks, his captain, on God's Valley and then later probably defeated Crocodile, when Croc decided to become a pirate and went after the One Piece, could explain the animosity that we saw during Marineford.

Anyway, because of God's Valley, this could be the secret Iva knows about Croc: he's the surviving child of Rocks D. Xebec, thanks to Whitebeard.

Whitebeard choosing to save him rather than his Captain and then later defeating him could also explain why Croc has strong issues when it comes to trusting others :

Another hint that Croc is related to Rocks is Blackbeard. A popular theory/understanding in the fandom is that, while Luffy inherited Roger's Will, Blackbeard inherited Rocks' (leading to the idea that Rocks vs Garp & Roger will be paralleled with Blackbeard vs Luffy & Koby). This is especially interesting, considering that Blackbeard replaced Croc as a Warlord after he was defeated and sent to Impel Down, which is when they met :

Crocodile also has a lot of "mannerisms" hinting he's a D. He's strongly interested in the Void Century, poneglyphs and the ancient weapons.

Additionally, upon learning during Marineford about Ace's and Luffy's being hunted by the Government because of their fathers, he intervened to protect them...

These acts, outside of the CrocoParent theory (see below), can be explained by Croc's own experience of being hunted because of who his father was, but also by what Ivankov said to Law, who's also a D :

To conclude, I'm a strong advocate that Sir Crocodile is actually Rocks D. Crocodile and he obviously couldn't keep his father's name, in order to avoid being hunted during his entire life by the Government.

But what about the CrocoParent theory?

Well, as much as I'm an immense and dedicated fan of this theory (full explanation here), a part of me doesn't trust Oda to be brave enough to go down that road, even if I'm also eagerly waiting for him to. :D

Whether Croc was afab or amab though, the theory that he's Rocks' kid still applies. The only difference is that, if Croc was afab, then on top of knowing about who his father was, Iva also helped Croc with transitioning, thanks to their devil fruit.

Of course, it's probably through meeting Iva that Croc then came to meet some members of the Revolutionary Army, like Dragon. He gave birth to Luffy, transitioned afterwards with Iva's help and his actions at Marineford (protecting both Ace and Luffy) are not only because he used to be hunted as Rocks' kid, but also because he just learnt that Luffy is Dragon's son and thus his own child. :))

After all, to quote Dragon in the latest chapter of Kuma's flashback...

... "a child is their parents' weak spot" seems to ring to the same bell as Croc's "if you want to protect something, do it right" (like giving up on raising Luffy and leaving him in a remote village of East Blue, to avoid him being hunted by the World Government).

Anyway, long post, sorry about it! I hope we'll know soon about Croc's past. Let me know if I missed some hints ! :D

[thesirenisles]

Examining the "Feminine"

mythology & meaning of venus, taurus, and libra ♀

by thesirenisles

Dark/Night Mode recommended. Do not steal, rewrite, or copy any of my original writing. Photos are from Pinterest or collaged by me. If it does not apply, let it fly. All rights reserved. © 2024 The Siren Isles

Your Majesty,

It is as if you manifested in this world to be adored and cherished. Blessed with royal charisma and a natural grace, your Venusian energy is often happily welcomed. Even with afflictions, there is just something(s) about you that others value.

A Venusian is blessed to enjoy the material aesthetics and splendors of this world. They understand high-quality, material value in items and prefer the nicer things. They have an inherent taste for what is aesthetically pleasing. The Venusian tends to collect all of these things... while being on the journey to understanding that they can't collect people.

At your core… you are here to create and increase the value, beauty, harmony, and love in the world around you.

It's all about life’s pleasures when you’re a child of Venus and they float diplomatically, steadily seeking pleasure of all forms, whether this be from material means, the five senses, or even the addictive taste of social relevance.

╰┈➤ Think: Serena VDW from Gossip Girl, waltzing around with her “Golden Retriever” energy lol. Beyoncé, (Venus 1H) no matter the rumors... honestly can she actually ever be canceled? Jasmine Tookes (model) has such a Venusian complex, Venus 1H)

With this energy dominant in the natal chart, you can become a natural feminine role model for the women in your life. Venus is a benefic and a lucky chart ruler energy. But, this does not come without its lessons usually involving worth, value, and balance.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

In astrology, the gifts of Venus manifest in:

⋆˚⋆˚ ❥ TAURUS (fixed Earth) 2nd House (Possessions, Values, Skills) understands tangible & personal worth but is seeking to understand the value of intangible beauty in life.

⋆˚⋆ ❥ LIBRA (cardinal Air) 7th House (Marriage and Partnership) understands how to create beautiful social and romantic relationships based on justice, but is seeking to understand the true value of self love & worth.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

If you control the feminine deity,

you control the feminine.

VENUS (Aphrodite to the Greeks, Hathor to Ancient Egyptians) is the Goddess of love, feminine energy, erotic desire, harmony, balance, and to some motherhood.

Greco- Roman Mythology:

When consuming any ancient mythological texts, one must consider the social and political attitudes or even agendas during that time period to add context. This female social status very clearly carries over into their mythology.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

🐚 In Ancient Greece: "Greek women had virtually no political rights of any kind and were controlled by men at nearly every stage of their lives." (source)

🐚 In Ancient Rome: "Unlike society in ancient Egypt, Rome did not regard women as equal to men before the law." (source)

Glamour is the enemy of truth.

Her sordid birth is GLAMOURIZED in an undeniably gorgeous painting: “Birth of Venus” by Sandro Botticelli; 1486 (see below).

🐚 This beautiful portrayal led to Venus being OFTEN glamourized by women, especially here on Tumblr. We feel empowered by her, which is justified. But, her Greco-Roman mythology is anything but empowering. No shade, but it embodies the social limits and pain for women within the dominant European culture. 🐚 The Goddess is often presented on display, (as above) her womanhood made a spectacle! Her very "feminine" form is written to have manifested from the discarded sexual organs of a male God, (Uranus), Also then.. technically her father.

This is a DIVINE Goddess and YET ...

Her adoptive father, Jupiter (Zeus), literally sold her to her "husband", Hephaestus (Vulcan), like property.

She has petty grudges stemming from vanity, tormenting beautiful young maidens.

She engages in frequent, extramarital love trysts with a sibling, Ares (Mars)

... & we're supposed to romanticize this??? ✋🏾(It's giving Cersei Lannister).

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

🐚 Negative divine feminine imagery creates a space to demonize the many beautiful traits associated with Venus! This became especially apparent after the bloody global shift into Christian and Catholic dominance.

-`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´--`♡´-

and alas life imitates art:

"HOTTENTOT" VENUS

🐚 The Greco-Roman/ European depiction of Venus being on full display makes a disgusting reappearance in their humiliation, brutalization, and rape of naturally curvy and voluptuous African women. 🐚 Most notably, a South African Khoikhoi (or Khoisan) woman named Saartjie (or Sara) Baartman, who was fiendishly deemed the: "Hottentot Venus." (a racial slur; see image below) Her divinely feminine body was, like Venus , put on live display and defiled for ANY paying Europeans. Most all had never witnessed such divine beauty, 1810. (source) 🐚 They were socially conditioned to gawk, hyper-sexualize, and inflict pain upon the female form. Even after death, she was taken in 1816 and displayed in a French museum until as late as 1985."

Venus Figurine:

🐚 This grotesque misuse of Venus in the news article title takes its inspiration from: The Upper Paleolithic “Venusian figurine”, an example the “Venus of Willendorf” (28-25,000 BCE; see below) which also shows pronounced hips and figure. Men were said to carry these in thought of women. However, the exposure is none short than Venus' own in the Botticelli painting.

🐚 While similar in their representation, the Greco Roman translation of this Goddess is far too crass and none of Venus' listed Greco-Roman origin stories have any symbolic feminine connection or adoration to the actual bull or scales! LOL. So, I went on my search to connect the lost ancient mythological mysteries that did not make it past the Euro-Colonialism eradication and re-naming. 🔎🕵️

"Mother of the Pharaohs"

taurus: the horned cow🐄

HATHOR is the (Ancient Egyptian Goddess of the Divine Feminine, Love, Fertility, and even expression of female sexual desire). The Goddess is a cow or a maiden with cow horns, typical symbol of Taurus.

How is Venus connected to Hathor?

🐄 Since the moment they step foot in the "ancient New York City" that was Ancient Egypt, their European neighbors were enamored of Ancient Egypt's Neter (Gods), especially the "Mother of the Pharoah's". The Greco-Roman nations would come to conquer Egypt. Under Alexander the "gr8" in 332 B.C., they renamed one of the seven major African cities that worshipped Hathor: "Aphroditopolis" or City of Venus and made it a CAPITAL of its district. 🐄 The Venus planet symbol ♀ is literally the African Ankh. This fascination and renaming is like the renaming of Thoth into Mercury, Hermes, or "Hermes Trismegistus". (some say they explain it with "reincarnation.") You, as the reader, decide which mythology matches the energy best for yourself.

Mythological Origins:

🐄 Hathor is said to be born from the eye of Ra, like Sekhmet. She was thought of as beauty, love, grace incarnate. Her presence is said to exude an aura of allure, femininity, and attraction. She embodies passionate expressions of desire, love, and the pursuit of exquisite living. 🐄 A maternal symbol, she is considered the mother or nourisher of all of the Pharaohs. The presence of the Goddess in a Pharaoh's royal court is essential to ensure the connection to the divine. 🐄 Music and dance are another keystone of Hathor's energy. The female body is created to release tension and trauma with the very movement of your hips! Connect with your inner Goddess! 🐄 Symbols for Hathor: Cows, Sun disk with Cow Horns, Lotus Flower, Sistrum, Protective Cobra, Mirrors, and Cosmetic jars.

Why the cow? 🐄

🐄 Ancient Kemet (Egypt) connected their Gods to the natural skills, gifts, and talents of the animals within their ecosystem. This is the reason their Gods’ are called Neter, like “Nature". (For example: Lions of Leo are native to Africa) 🐄 The African cattle breed: “Ankole-Watusi" has female cows with very large horns… similar to the male bull. These horns are depicted holding the sun disk upon the head of Hathor, (as seen above & below in the Egyptian bas reliefs).

🌷Cows are the mothers!🌷

┈➤ Bulls are the male cow. Heifers are the females without offspring.

🐄 The natural feminine physical traits associated with the cow are: plush eyelashes, a pretty symmetrical face, pronounced nipples that produce milk, and wide hips. 🐄 However, the cow also provides fertilizer, which brought forth the agriculture of the African Nile Valley. The cow , not bull...is a perfect fertility symbol.

Hathor provides the Pharaoh the ANKH or “Venus planet symbol.” ♀ (see below)

Bas Relief of the goddess Hathor, Temple of Horus, Edfu, Egypt, Ptolemaic Period, c251 BC-c246 BC

"soft life"🐄

🐄 I imagine a Taurus (or 2nd houser) thriving in the energy of the cow, frolicking the lush green lands, eating their fill, and providing nourishment. If the 5 senses of a Taurus are satisfied, they are content. 🐄 They will create this value around them, often ensuring that their spaces smell good, the food is prepared excellently, and only the best to drink it down. Access to a Taurus is access to their natural value. 🐄 They will bless you with gifts that you need because they care enough to pay attention and want to increase your value too.. all while being loyal! I love Taurus energy, so similar to cancer... but less mood swings.

(noun). a person, especially a woman, who pursues a lifestyle of buying luxury items or of seeking them as gifts from lovers and admirers.

🐄 Taurus most often manifests Venusian gifts in the physical and sensual. This can be "classically" feminine physical traits, such as wider hips or ample bosoms, etc. On a negative, these traits can be hyper-sexualized or demonized while they are young, like their sister sign, Scorpio. But, it can also be literal material gifts and blessings.

🐄 On a positive, Venus will bless them with options! Many suitors will present these Earthly gifts, writing love poems to woo the feminine cow. Taurus may find pride in the flattery that comes with this treatment and beauty privilege. They are used to being adored (unless badly aspected).

Beware the love Bomb.

🐄 In love, these cows are especially vulnerable to being victims of love bombing. (When a potential suitor bombards one too quickly with serious promises, excessive flattery, and material gifts. This can be friends as well.🧿) The key here is to not allow flattery to falsely parade as love.

🐄 Taurus (2nd house) carries a natural royal energy and an air of grace. It’s your silent, but solid confidence of being a fixed sign. They are extremely loyal when they consider you kin. However, this dogmatic belief system can result in you charging your horns into sketchy territory. This reminds me of John Snow and his “honor” energy (from Game of Thrones).

it’s nearly impossible to change your mind.🌸

🐄  In love, this can be ignoring all of your friends over a partner who is not good for you. You find yourself giving all of your love, loyalty, and even money (most have a language of gift giving and receiving) to an undeserving soul. On the bright side, these tragedies will result in a tower moment marked with major transformation (also like sister sign Scorpio).🌷 🐄 Ultimately, I feel and often see that the Taurus (2nd house) native will be challenged to vacate the creature comforts in which they enjoy in order to transform like their sister sign, Scorpio. When in doubt, do NOT choose the Hephaestus (safe choice).

"Queen of the Earth"

libra: moral scales ⚖️

MA'AT (Ancient Egyptian Goddess rules balance, justice, harmony, law, order, and morality.) She is depicted as a maiden adorned with beautiful wings, very similar to Isis.

⚖️ I often find my beautiful Libran queens confused about the meaning of the scales and how it connects to femininity. I hope to be a light bearer. ⚖️ Ma'at represents the typical light feminine attributes in my opinion (elegance, forgiveness (justice), and nurturing energy (Venus). Similar to Librans, who inherently know how to enact these gifts create harmony in their social spaces and float amongst varying personalities. (Think: Lady Liberty or Lady Justice). However, the sign is the masculine side of Venus.

Mythological Origins:

⚖️ Ma'at is also a daughter of Ra, sometimes written as his wife. She manifested with Ra from the waters of Nun (Chaos). Her existence brought order to the realms . She is often depicted holding an ANKH and a scepter to symbolize power and eternal life. (See Below) Some sources say that she was married to Thoth (Mercury) and birthed 8 children, known as "The eight gods of Hermopolis." (Just like Aphroditopolis)

Why the Queen of the Earth?

⚖️ As mentioned, Ma'at was said to be present at the beginning. She was present when Ra stood upon her "mound" (seen above) for balance as he created the realm of Earth... ending chaos. This placed the Goddess in charge of the cycle of seasons, the movements of the sun, moon and stars, all parts of religion, relationships, and the moral actions of both mortal and God-alike. This is very powerful!

⚖️ The Libra native can carry very similar themes. In life, they may feel the need to regulate amongst their social circles and be the organized hostess. Cardinal energy blesses them with the drive to girl boss through anything!

⚖️ The ethical and spiritual foundation of Ancient Kemet was presented by a woman. The head of religious worship and justice was called "Priest of Ma'at". From this, you gather that Ancient Kemet was nothing as Egypt is today in terms of equality for women. Women were free to own their own properties, businesses, marry one-another, divorce their husbands, and even rose to be Pharaoh like in the case of Pharaoh Hatshepsut. (personal fave)

Why the scales? ⚖️

The Libran scales literally determined if a soul had lived their life with balance and morality! (7th House).

⚖️ The actions and morality of the Ancient Egyptian people were guided by a set list of commandments, known as the "42 Laws of Ma'at". These ancient texts predate the Bible, but have uncanny similarity in diction to the 10 Commandments. ⚖️ It was believed that Upon death, before one could enter the Duat (Underworld), the heart was weighed on the scales of Osiris (God of the Underworld) in comparison to a single feather of Ma'at. Osiris is linked to Saturn which is exalted in Libra. The weighing was done by Anubis (God of funerary practices and care of the dead).

“light as a feather”🪶

⚖️ If the heart weighed less or the same, the spirit was granted access to Aaru (a sort of heaven). This explains the scales of LIbra. If it did not, the heart was eaten and the native faded into nothingness.

(noun) a woman who acts as master of ceremonies, moderator, or who receives and entertains guests in her own home or elsewhere.

⚖️ The mythology of Ma'at is excellent... a little too excellent. She is like the oldest and favorite daughter who must be 100% perfect. Many Libra's may have father or projection issues in this way. The expectation of excellence begets pressure! ⚖️ This carries over into the relationships of course. This balancing act is where things get tricky for the Libra. This can manifest as people pleasing to keep the peace with friends, family, romantic partners, or co-workers. There can be a distaste for controversy or not wanting to damage the public image. It gives "Dollhouse" by Melanie Martinez vibes at its worse. Rich Auntie vibes at it's best!

Their scales will be tipped. ⚖️

⚖️ The Libras/7th housers will find themselves in situations where they have to STAND on their boundaries. It's like a self-actualization that has to happen. Venus is teaching them to respect and protect their Venusian gifts. Similar to Taurus. Venusian energy will bless you with generous suitors. BEWARE THE LOVEBOMBERS. ⚖️ They bear the reputation of almost needing to be in a relationship. This is obviously due to the 7th house ruling, but also stems from it's less favorable position with the sun.(Father). It is also kind of true, because it is apart of your life path. ⚖️ While it can be painful to have to experience relationship after relationship, these are apart of your life path and contribute to your glow up! To love and be loved is truly a blessing. You guys are blessed with so many loving friendships and romantic experiences!

Regina George?

⚖️ There can be some performative behavior and some judgment! After all, this is scales. Blessed with beauty, style, and grace... they can end up judging those who aren't. Mean Girl vibes. But, I believe this comes from the Libran urge to judge and lead the masses LOL. Ma'at energy. ⚖️ Despite any of this, Libra is the least slandered amongst the air signs (unless it’s Libra moon… I see quite a bit of slander? LOL.) Ma'at seems to bless the Libran with this air of favor. It's like they can really do no wrong, even sometimes after doing so. People are going to think the better of them 9/10 because the Libra has already established their character and value amongst social groups. The air just adds a bit more flow, allowing more harmonious energy in their relations.

Conclusion

♀ The intention of this post is to shed some light on lesser known mythology and symbolism of the planet Venus. I also believe that it is worth noting a very beautiful pattern among Venus and her signs.

♀ The Libran scales and Taurus Cow horns both resemble the female reproductive system. They also resemble the African Ankh symbol (of fertility and eternal life). Nature makes no mistakes and everything has duality, just as the Ancient Egyptians understood so well. It’s beautiful. (See below).

Thank you for reading!! Wishing you blessings!

@thesirenisles | masterlist | Enjoyed? Support!🧜🏾‍♀️

All rights reserved. © 2024 The Siren Isles

[klausysworld]

(Y/n is a prostitute in this story, if that’s something you don’t like then don’t read. Some of the things are stereotypical around this line of work, please don’t take this personally or to heart)

Money and Sex

Money and Sex.

The two things Klaus Mikaelson always had and always would have.

Paying for sex wasn't often necessary for someone like Klaus. Most women were throwing themselves at him for free, it didn't matter which century it was or if they were married. They wanted him. And Klaus was always for than happy to indulge. His appetite was relentless.

Sometimes just knowing that he had money was something that enticed them. If his looks alone weren't enough then he wasn't opposed to letting them have a glance at his wallet which would almost always guarantee that he would wake up with at least one woman in his bed the next morning.

However there were the occasions that he would actually pay for a service. Whether it was a just a blow job or a quick fuck or a full night in his play room. It was when he couldn't be particularly bothered to charm a woman into sleeping with him and so would just give some lucky prostitute the night of her life instead.

However this time was a little different.

Y/n was gorgeous. Each strand of her hair was perfect, her delicate neck, her defined collarbones, ample breasts that would fill out the pathetic excuse of a dress she would wear, her tight little waist, well-rounded hips, beautifully thick thighs and desirable long legs that supported her plump ass and met her dainty little feet which were always clad in either a seductive stiletto heels or thigh high heeled boots. Round her shoulders would hang an oversized faux fur jacket to keep at least part of her warm while she sat in her usual booth and played her innocent little act even though everyone knew she was anything but.

Her lips were painted red, eyes often matching in colour along with a thin line of eyeliner to make her iris’ stand out. Everything about her was seductive, sultry. Klaus needed to have her.

Each night he would observe her, she would gain the attention of almost everybody there. Some hated her presence and some absolutely obsessed over her being there. She would always go home with someone different and Klaus would always spot multiple notes being slipped into some part of her outfit as a promise for more.

If money was what she wanted then money was what she would get.

After too many nights of feeling his gaze on her, too many incidents of Y/n catching his stare and smiling sweetly at him only for him to look down at his drink with a smirk and avoid her eye for the next hour, she decided to make her way over to him.

Klaus had just ordered his second drink when a soft hand slide up his arm to his bicep and began to caress soothingly. His eyes glanced down and to the side to see the wine-coloured nails stroking the sleeve of his Egyptian-cotton shirt. He looked back to his glass of whiskey with a knowing smirk.

"May I help you sweetheart?" He questioned as he turned around to face her. Y/n's eyes fixed on him and she smiled innocently at him.

"A drink would be nice" She told him and he hummed, clicking his fingers for the bartenders attention. As soon as the worker saw Y/n they slid her usual drink of choice across to meet Klaus's hand. The hybrid then held it out for her and she took it with a flash of her teeth at him. "Thank you, handsome" She purred and his eyes darkened with desire.

Klaus took a sat in his usual little area and opened his arm in a welcoming gesture. Y/n sat on his thigh in response and smiled as his arm went round her to keep her there. His jaw clenched as he looked her over, the little silky dress she was wearing was basically just lingerie and allowed him a delightful view of her body. He could feel the warmth radiating from between her legs against his thigh and he couldn't wait to play with her.

"You've been coming in here a lot lately" she mused as she sipped her drink with one hand and toyed with the buttons on his shirt with the other.

"Mm" He hummed, "Drinks and entertainment, what more could a man want?" he questioned, turning his head to look at her with narrowed eyes.

"Entertainment?" She asked, looking around. It was just a bar, a popular one yes but just a bar. Occasionally there would be an even or something but not often.

Klaus chuckled and slid his fingers under her chin and brought her gaze back to him, "Watching someone as enticing as you saunter around, finding who will offer you the most. I've grown to enjoy your little game"

"It's not a game," she countered "It's a living"

Klaus grinned and let his hand slide up her thigh to the edge of her dress, just before her panties though part of him was curious if she was even wearing any. She swatted his hand away and he chuckled. "Forgive me, princess" He smirked and pulled his wallet out. Y/n narrowed her eyes as he plucked a hundred dollar bill and held it for her to take. Her eyes flicked to his with distrust.

"I hope you don't think that's enough for me to go home with you" She scoffed and he chuckled.

"Sweetheart this is just for me to be allowed to put my hand on your leg. You'll be payed for each little thing I do to you. Believe me, by tomorrow morning you'll have enough money to get out of this...job" he smiled and winked at her.

She hummed unconvincingly and took the money, allowing his hand to feel her thigh and squeeze the flesh as he pleased. She tucked the bill into her little purse that he hadn't noticed and got comfortable on his lap.

Klaus kept her there for hours. Drinks kept coming for them each and Klaus had given her another $100 so that he could kiss her skin, her neck more specifically. She agreed however he wasn't allowed to leave marks which annoyed him but he didn't push it.

Another hundred was given for kisses on the lips, an extra fifty for tongue. Klaus found it amusing how she would tilt her head and raise a brow at him, knowing that he could afford whatever she wanted. Thankfully Klaus was more than willing to tuck the money into her hands as many times as she wanted so long as he god his requests.

He pulled away from her mouth and brushed his lips over her ear. "How much for a little dance, hm princess?" he whispered lowly and she scoffed.

"Here?" She questioned, and he nodded. Y/n looked over his face as she thought about it. This man was loaded, she knew that, he knew that, everyone knew that. She had already made $350 and he hadn't even touched her anywhere, nor had he mentioned bringing her home with him. Some nights she would get that much for actually fucking a guy. But this gave her $100 for a kiss so by that logic... "$500" She answered and his brows rose.

"$300" He offered and she narrowed her eyes.

"$400" She compromised but still saw his gaze unwavering so she slid her hand down his front and let it press against his crotch making him suck in a breath, "Unless of course...you can't afford $400 for a lap dance?" she suggested, giving him a look of faux understanding and he scoffed.

"You want $500? You'll get your $500 once you show me how good you can be. Now dance for me." He demanded with a little smack to her ass making her roll her eyes but comply. She straddled his lap, slowly rolling her hips against him and running her nails up and down his chest through his skirt. Klaus leaned back and slide his hands onto her waist, caressing down to her hips and encouraging her to gyrate against him. Klaus watched her move erotically, his cock pushing against his trousers as she ground down on it. His mouth found hers and his tongue pushed inside to taste her as his hands moved under her sexy little dress to squeeze her ass. His kiss grew hungrier and so did his hands, so did his dick.

Y/n had to pull away with a giggle and grabbed his wrists. "Easy, handsome. I put on shows one person at a time, not for the whole damn bar" she told him and he groaned softly. He quickly pulled out the five $100 bills and slotted them between her tits, his eyes lingering.

"Then It's time to go to my place" he mumbled, lifting her up without waiting for an answer and pulling her legs around his waist. His hand grabbed her ass, holding her dress there so nobody saw the thong that didn't cover a thing.

Y/n smirked and slid off him and onto the feels of her boots. Klaus's hands held onto her hips from behind as he lead her to his car and opened the door for her. She laughed at the gesture and sat down, letting him closer her door and start driving. Klaus sped home, parking quickly outside of his mansion and getting out. He opened the door and pulled her out, tugging her along with him and through his front doors.

"My god" She whistled. "Should've charged you a thousand for that dance huh?" she teased and he chuckled.

"Be good for me tonight and I'll give you much more than just a thousand." He told her, pulling her hands close and kissing them both. She gave him a provocative smile and stepped to stand right up against him.

"Tell me what you like, handsome." she whispered with a knowing smile and he hummed, his hands stroking her cheeks and jaw before his thumb brushed over her bottom lip and pulled it down to make her open her mouth. She licked his thumb with a grin before reaching for his pants and curling her fingers round his belt. "You wanna show me somewhere comfy?" She asked and he nodded silently.

Klaus let her hold onto his belt as he brought her up the stairs to his bedroom. It was huge, basically had its own living room. Leather seats, fireplace, TV, bottles of whiskey or scotch or whatever, the biggest bed Y/n had ever seen, walk in wardrobe, god there was just everything. Y/n's apartment would fit in his room tenfold. Klaus watched her eyes dart around as she took it in.

"It's all yours tonight princess" He murmured seductively as he pulled his belt off, letting the leather slip through her fingers before tossing it away and stripping himself bare. Y/n wetted her lips as she glanced him over, his broad shoulders, smooth hard chest, abs that were visible but not overly prominent and defined apollos belt. Her eyes fixed on his cock, it was thick, long and hard. She hadn't doubted that it would be impressive; a man like him had it all.

Klaus opened his wallet and pulled out a thick wad of hundred dollar bills and set the on his night stand.

"There's $9,150 there. You take that home with you in the morning along with the $850 from earlier and you've pocketed $10,000. That enough for you, sweetheart?" He questioned with a smirk.

Y/n stared at the money. It was way to much not to take but part of her couldn't help but worry. Was he planning to do something horrific and this was to make sure she didn't tell?

"I don't do knives" She whispered, her voice uneasy.

"That's okay, I didn't plan on using one" He answered and she hesitantly nodded.

"I want a safe word" She told him and he tilted his head.

"I don't aim to harm you tonight princess. I'm here because my cock is in desperate need of attention only you can sate." He chuckled, "The money is because I have it to give. You will not come to true harm under my hands however if a safe word makes you feel safe then a safe word you shall have. Should you say the word 'Red' then ill stop, 'Amber and I'll slow it down, good?" He offered and she nodded.

"Okay" she whispered, shaking off the feeling and smiling at him. "Sorry, handsome, didn't mean to be a mood killer. C'mon lets get you in your fancy chair!" she grinned and pulled him over the the leather, throne-like seat the sat opposite the fireplace that wasn't currently lit. Klaus smiled back at her through hooded eyes and sat back in his chair as though he were king.

Y/n slipped down onto her knees with a simper and gazed up at his through her long, painted lashes. Klaus opened his legs a little wider for her to crawl between. Her elbows rest on top his thighs so that her hand may ever so gently stroke his stiffened cock. The hybrid gave no reaction other than an exhale of air through his nose. She eyed him as she lifted the palm of her hand and began to stroke him firmly.

She knew his type. They wanted control of everything and didn't ever want her to know that she was making them lose it for even a second. Which meant that her aim that night was to have this man a panting mess. That was the only way he would be truly satisfied, that's what ensured that she fucked better than any other girl out there. That way why she was in business so often, because nobody did it like her and Klaus knew that.

Her fingers squeezed his shaft tight, watching as his jaw clenched and she could correctly assume that he was biting his tongue as her thumb rolled over his cockhead perfectly to tease each nerve. "Did you like that?" She asked amorously. Klaus's hand slid into her hair and gripped it tight.

"Put those pretty lips to work" He demanded and she obeyed. Her cherry-red lips wrapped around his tip, sucking softly while one hand stroked his length and the other teasingly caressed and fondled his balls. Klaus let his eyes close and head fall back as he felt the wet warmth of her mouth encase his cock and move along his shaft slowly. She didn't need to tease him, a couple good flicks of her wrist and he probably could have cummed right in her face but she decided to make it last because she knew that was exactly what he both wanted and needed.

She moved slow but precisely for a good while before his hand started pushing her head further, encouraging her to start moving faster and taking him deeper. With her profession, even if it had only been a couple years, meant that her gag reflex was basically nonexistent. Her through swallowed him down like it was nothing and she moaned around him like a damn pornstar until he couldn't help but buck his hips and groan.

"Fuck princess" He grunted, both hands forcing her head up and down to meet his fast-thrusting hips. Y/n kept her eyes on his, watching him as his brows pulled together and his mouth began to breathe faster. His eyes swirled into a dark storm and a raspy moan left him before I was roughly pulled off his cock and shoved backwards. Her hand reached back quickly to catch herself from hitting the ground while he groaned and his cock let out thick ropes of cum across his abdomen. Her eyes widened at the pure amount of cum that shot out of him before his body calmed down and he was looking down at her. She smiled back at him with a small smile.

Klaus reached his hand out and she shook it, he stood and guided her up onto her feet before leading her to his bed. Klaus sat down, moving his pillows out the way so he could sit up against the headboard. Y/n followed his lead and straddled his lap, she let his cock press against her cunt as she pulled her thong aside.

"You want me to ride you handsome?" she questioned, tilting her head innocently. Klaus stroked her jaw with a smirk.

"You know that I do princess. Come show me how well your pretty pussy can take me" He purred and she hummed.

"Condom first, handsome" She told him, holding out a little packet for him but Klaus just scoffed and cupped her jaw, looking into her eyes.

"I don't need to wear a condom, I'm clean and infertile" he compelled and she smiled, tossing the packet away and getting back to her job.

Klaus's hands lifted the silky little dress up to her hips to watch as her pussy engulfed his cock. She sunk down onto him and he groaned. If he was honest, he hadn't expected her to be nearly as tight as she was due to her line of work. Y/n slid her hands up to his neck as her. hips slowly began to ride his dick. Klaus inhaled a deep breath or air and squeezed her waist gently between his hands.

"Tell me how fast you like it, handsome" She murmured as he watched her pussy slide along his cock.

"Usually?" He mumbled and she hummed. "Usually I like it fast" He admitted.

"You like it rough, handsome?" She purred, clenching her cunt around his cock to hear him groan.

"Fuck, yes sweetheart!" He moaned and she smiled.

"Do you want to fuck me fast and rough, handsome?" She whispered, leaning forward to brush her lips against his cheek. Klaus sucked in a breath and nodded.

"Yes princess, yes I want to fuck you till you scream" He growled, his hips bucking upward to meet her movements. Y/n hummed softly and caressed his neck, her body bouncing on his cock with an increasing pace. Klaus groaned softly and gripped her body tighter, his fingers digging into her sides. Her jaw clenched as she felt the bruises forming but she knew not to push his hands away when he was so into it.

She moaned softly in his ear for him, encouraging his thrusts to pick up. Her mouth left a trail of wet kisses down the side of his neck, sucking the skin into her mouth and nipping gently. Klaus grunted, his grip getting tighter again as she clenched around him over and over.

His eyes closed as he listened to her moans and felt her swollen lips against his skin, her blunt teeth scraping against him. His cock felt as though it was throbbing inside her, he couldn't help but grab her body and bounce her up and down on him as though she were just a little fuck doll. His breathing grew ragged and his mind went cloudy. A long groan vibrated in his chest as her sweet cunt milked his cock of his cum. Y/n's fingers slid into his hair, stroking his head as he came down from his high.

"There you go, handsome" she murmured softly, smiling when his eyes opened and locked back onto hers. He frowned a little bit, he knew that she was a prostitute or however she wished to label herself but he didn't like that she didn't seem an ounce impressed or satisfied. She tilted her head at his frown and her expression faltered. "We can keep going if you need, honey?" She whispered, petting his head and kissing his lips sweetly.

Klaus cleared his throat and lifted her from his lap. He shook his head and pulled a smile to his face. He kissed her deeply, his hands rubbing along her body to turn her on. She took this initiative as a sign that he was ready for more so dropped her hand down between their bodies. Her fingers wrapped around his thick cock, stroking him firmly once again making him moan softly. His hips thrust involuntary against her hand and he pulled away.

Klaus grabbed her wrists, lifting them above her head making her raise a brow and lay back for him to take what he wanted. Klaus narrowed his eyes, seeing it as a challenge. Without warning she was flipped onto her stomach, arms still pinned above her head with his hand applying pressure to keep her down, not that she was struggling.

Y/n arched her back and lifted her ass, pressing herself against Klaus's dick provocatively. His eyes bled gold as he let go of her wrists and grabbed her hips, lifting her ass higher.

"Keep your hands up" He ordered and she grinned.

"Yes, handsome. Anything you say." she murmured, swaying her hips seductively in his hands as she felt his cockhead sliding between her ass cheeks as he groaned softly. His hands creeped under her lacey little dress and cupped her generous breasts that were not supported by any sort of bra. He gave a firm squeeze making her moan lowly before her mouth feel open as his cock pushed into her fast and deep.

"That's right sweetheart, cry for me." He uttered as he started thrusting into her from behind. Her body jolted forward with each force of his thrusts. His body collided with hers time after time, skin slapping harshly and Y/n just knew her skin would be red by the end of the night.

His fingers caressed over her nipples, tugging on them to make them stand out. Y/n let out a moan of genuine pleasure, it was different to her ones from earlier which make Klaus smirk and roll her nipples tightly, twisting them until a broken cry left her and her as smacked back against his hips.

Her hands remained above her head the entire time he took her. Not once did her obedience falter. Her cunt grew tighter as he carried on and he had been angling his hips precisely in an attempt to find just the sport to make her squirm. Y/n knew exactly what he was doing but could feel his cock tremble inside her as it ached to release inside her again.

Y/n curve her back, pushing her body back to meet his fast and powerful movements, his control was slipping and he began to forget what his aim was. All he could feel was her warm, wet, tight pussy stroking his so good. Pulsing and squeezing around his cock until he couldn't breath. Each time his balls slapped against her ass his sensitivity heightened that extra bit more

Soon enough Klaus was a mess, his body collapsing on top of hers as his cock buried into her, his tip snug against her cervix while he pumped her womb full. Y/n slowly brought her arms down from above her head and dragged herself out from under his weight.

Klaus groaned quietly as he came to.

His eyes fluttered back open to the feel of her nails gently scratching the top of his back in a way that soothed something inside him. Part of him hated that those nails were just brushing him rather than being dug into him but the other part loved how soft she was in the moment. He wondered if this was a routine, fuck em hard and then pet them to sleep.

Klaus rolled onto his back and locked his gaze with hers. She smiled back at him and leaned down to kiss his lips. It made him feel as though he had known her forever. His mouth pressed back against his with passion, his hand tugging on her hair until she groaned.

She pulled away slowly and tapped her fingers against his chest. "I just know you have more to show me, handsome" She whispered, her voice alluring. "I bet you have lots of toys you're just waiting to play with" She hummed, circling the tip of her nail around his nipple making him hiss softly. Y/n smiled as his hands went up her thighs and she let them fall open for him.

Klaus groaned softly as her cunt glistened and shone. His tongue wetted his lips and he couldn’t help but pull her close and kiss his lips. Y/n hummed softly as his fingers slid through her folds before he pulled back from the kiss and sucked the taste of her from each of them.

“You ready to play, handsome?” She murmured and he nodded, like a boy under a spell. He shook off the haze and pulled her to him. Klaus glanced to his drawer, it was where he kept things for special occasions. Y/n followed his gaze with a smile and stroked his jaw. “Go on, honey. Show me what you got.” She purred, encouraging him to slide her onto his lap and take her to the edge of his bed. He pulled his drawer open and she peeked inside with an amused smile. She lifted the handcuffs and the spanking paddle, placing them on the bed with a hum “I don’t know…I figured you’d rather use you hands for that kind of thing” she teased and his eyes darkened as he pictured his hand meeting the red-raw flesh of her ass until she cried. Y/n continued to pull out a pair of nipple clamps followed by a ball gag and some anal toys. She turned her head to him with a smile "For men, women or yourself?" She teased and he chuckled as he took the toys away from her hands.

"Depends on the day" He answered and she hummed, stroking his chest and glancing to the drawer which still had items buried but he pushed it closed making her pout but accept his wishes for privacy.

Klaus pulled her into another kiss, distracting her mind as he pushed her back against his bed and slid his hand up between her legs to feel and rub at her cunt. Y/n moaned softly into his mouth as his fingers went at her clit, he was desperate to watch her cum.

However no matter how long he fingered her for, even when he could see that she was genuinely enjoying herself, he couldn't get her over that edge. So he started to use his mouth too.

Y/n assumed he was a guy who got pleasure from the validation of pleasing his partner so she was happy for him to do as he was. Her hands tugged and played with his hair while her hips rocked against her will. Over the past couple years she had managed excellent control of her mind and body but she couldn't help but grind back against his hands and tongue. Klaus was by far the most skilled client she had experienced.

As the night continued, Klaus fell apart time after time again as he fucked as hard as he could and then a slow as he could in an attempt to pull that desired orgasm from Y/n. By the time morning came around they were both still panting as he clung onto her body and rutted his hips against her and rubbed his hands over every inch of skin she owned. Y/n was positively exhausted, her body was overstimulated and oversensitive but she didn't utter a word about it. She made sure to keep her eyes open and continued to utter words of admiration and appreciation to him, knowing now that it would make his finish faster and harder.

When Klaus came inside her for the last time, he locked his eyes on hers. He promised himself that this would not be the last time she would be in his bed. He would have her here as many times as it took for him to learn everything about her body, everything that made her tik and exactly how to get her over the edge.

He offered for her to sleep for the morning in his room as she hadn't been able to through any of the night hours but she shook her head and promised he had done far more than enough. He kissed her goodbye and assured her he would see her again very soon.

And he did.

Klaus would go back to that bar every night to watch her saunter her way through the men there. He would always order a drink for her and offer her a smile and a wink. This continued for a few months before she stopped showing up.

Klaus was immediately alarmed, she wasn't the type to just stop. So he started asking around but nobody knew, most didn't care.

He wanted to continue his search however was called to New Orleans by a witch. Much to his surprise he found his brother sat beside a pregnant prostitute with confusion, fear and distraught written all over her face for she was carrying the very first tribrid baby.