#accountability is thy name

[iamquiantrelle]

XOXO YOUR FAVE WAG • iamquaintrelle

# summary: kylian's gf has everyone in a tizzy...some call her spoiled rotten or a brat, but she loves kyky down and she'll always be your fave wag. # pairings: kylian mbappe x black spoiled gf (fc: 6kenza) # wc: 3.6k # tags: @kmlottin @masn-mount @leighjadeclimbedmtkilimanjaro @szariahwroteit @muglermami @goodgyalgonebadd # author’s note: got a scenario for your fave wag? - send them here // one shot series masterlist

PART I: NEW BEGINNINGS

Madrid sunlight was loud and obnoxious.

That was her first thought as she scrolled through her phone, lying alone in their massive bed, sheets still warm from where Ky had been. From down the hall in the kitchen, she could hear him talking baby-talk to Milo and Gatsby—the Jack Russell going crazy as usual while the gentle giant Golden just woofed along.

"Wesh, vous avez faim? Qui veut manger? You guys, huh?"

She smiled despite the comments flooding her latest IG post. She'd just shared a simple pic of herself and the Madrid skyline with the caption "new beginnings ✨" and the haters were already out in full force:

@mbappestan4ever: can this girl post ANYTHING without making it about herself? your man just made the biggest move in football and you're what... taking selfies?

@madridista190: we don't want her drama in our club. leave that shit in paris

@footballwives_tea: sources say the other Madrid WAGs aren't impressed with Mbappé's girlfriend showing up to training "dressed like she's going to a nightclub" on day one

That last one made her laugh out loud. She'd worn jeans and a white button-down to yesterday's session. Literally the most basic outfit possible. But that's how it always went—wear something cute, get called attention-seeking; dress down, get called sloppy. The "football wife expert" accounts just made shit up for clicks.

Three years into this life, and she still wasn't used to being a character in someone else's story. She'd been just another girl from Bondy with big dreams when she met Kylian. Back then, he was that promising Monaco kid everyone was talking about, and she was a fashion student with 500 Instagram followers and a part-time modeling gig that barely paid her metro fare. Now? Twenty million followers, brand deals worth more than her parents' apartment, and a comments section full of people who thought they knew her whole life story.

She switched to Twitter, wincing as she spotted her name trending again. The hot takes were even worse:

"Mbappé's WAG already causing drama in Madrid. Source says she refused to sit with other players' wives at training."

Which was a complete lie. She'd literally asked if she could join them, and they'd practically formed a wall with their Birkins. Except Camila, bless her.

"Crazy how Mbappé went from dating that sweet hometown girl to this attention-seeking influencer. Fame changes people."

That one actually made her snort. She WAS the "sweet hometown girl." These people just couldn't fathom that the same person could post thirst traps AND be a loyal partner.

"Bébé? T'es réveillée?" Ky appeared in the doorway, wearing nothing but training shorts and that goofy grin she fell for years ago. Milo darted past him and leaped onto the bed while Gatsby lumbered behind, tail wagging.

"Malheureusement," she groaned, putting her phone down. "Your son decided my face needed cleaning at—" she checked the time, "—eight in the fucking morning."

"Milo, mon gars, on avait parlé de ça," Ky said, not even trying to sound serious. "Let the princess sleep."

"Call me princess again and you're sleeping on the couch."

"In our house at 15 million? Go ahead," he laughed, flopping down beside her, instantly reaching for her phone. "Qu'est-ce que tu regardes? The comments again?"

She tried to snatch it back but he held it out of reach, his footballer reflexes too quick. His smile faded as he scrolled.

"Why are you reading this bullshit?" he asked softly.

"Know thy enemy," she shrugged. "Plus some of them are actually funny. Did you know I'm apparently sleeping with three of your teammates simultaneously? I’m really busy."

He didn't laugh. "I hate how they talk about you."

"Yeah well, comes with the territory," she said with mock cheerfulness. "You signed for Madrid, I signed for that."

"It wasn’t like that in Paris."

"It was exactly like that in Paris, bébé. You just didn't notice because you were busy being the golden boy." She sat up, kissing his cheek. "Ça va. J'ai l'habitude."

And she was. Three years of being Kylian Mbappé's girlfriend had prepared her for the constant scrutiny, the accusations, the bullshit. Model? Gold-digger. Influencer? Attention whore. Stay home? Lazy trophy girlfriend. Work? Distraction to his career. There was literally no winning.

That first year had been the hardest. She remembered the night she'd broken down crying after reading an article speculating that she was only dating Kylian for his money. The article had dug up photos of her family's apartment block in Bondy, posted her high school grades, and even found an old tweet where she'd joked about being broke as a student. "From the projects to the palace," the headline had read, as if she'd executed some elaborate scheme instead of just falling in love.

Kylian had been furious, wanting to sue the publication, but she'd talked him down. "It'll just make it worse," she'd said. "They'll say I'm controlling you next."

And she'd been right. The next week, another outlet claimed she was "the puppet master behind Mbappé's career moves."

"Anyway," she added, shaking off the memories, "yesterday was... interesting."

"The training? You met the others?" He perked up, always so eager for her to feel included in his world.

"Yeah... they were..." She searched for a diplomatic word.

"Horrible? Cold? Crazy girls?" he supplied helpfully.

"I was gonna say 'reserved' but sure, let's go with relou." She laughed. "Camila was nice though."

"Rodrygo's wife? Yeah, she's cool."

"The rest just kinda... stared. Like I had 'PSG TRASH' stamped on my forehead." She mimicked their judgmental looks, making Ky snort. "One of them actually asked if my handbag was real or if I 'got it from the markets in Bondy.'"

Kylian's jaw tightened. "Who said that?"

"Doesn't matter. Point is, I'm the outsider. The girlfriend who isn't a wife. The influencer who isn't from a football family. La meuf de Bondy." She absently petted Gatsby's head. "Same shit, different club."

She didn't mention how one of the WAGs had whispered "Casse-toi" when she'd tried to sit down, or how another had loudly asked if "PSG girls" always wore "so much makeup to training." She'd worn mascara and tinted lip balm. That was it.

"You are worth ten of any of them," Ky said fiercely. "And if they don't see that—"

"Then they don't matter," she finished for him. "Je sais. It’s okay. I'm not here for them anyway." She stretched and yawned. "I'm here for your fine ass and these ridiculously expensive marble countertops."

That got him laughing again, the tension broken. "Glad to know where I stand in the hierarchy. Below the countertops but above the dogs?"

"Milo and Gatsby’s actually tied with the countertops. Sorry."

He checked his watch and groaned. "I have to go. Ancelotti wants us early today." He stood, then hesitated. "Ça va aller? You could call your sister?"

"I'm good. Gonna unpack the rest of the bedroom stuff. Maybe do a haul video since the brands sent all that Madrid-themed shit."

"Post a thirst trap," he suggested with a wink. "Really give those football wives something to talk about."

"You just want the comments to be 'Damn Mbappé is a lucky man' instead of 'Why is she such a bitch?'"

"Guilty," he admitted, leaning down to kiss her. "Also, wear that red thing tonight."

"We going somewhere?"

"Dinner with Barcola. He's in town with Dembélé, wanted to check on us. You know, PSG guys, we support each other."

Her mood instantly lifted. Bradley and Ousmane. People who actually knew her, not just as Mbappé's girl but as herself. People from home.

"I can’t wait," she said, genuinely excited now.

"I know," he said, seeing right through her sudden enthusiasm. He kissed her again, deeper this time. "Je t'aime, Squirtle."

The ridiculous nickname made her laugh every time. "I told you to stop calling me that in public!"

"We are not in public," he pointed out. "And you love it."

"I love YOU. The nickname is questionable."

"You weren't questioning it last night when you were—"

"OKAY time for you to go to work," she interrupted, pushing him toward the door while he cackled. "Go run around with your little ball. Make some goals or whatever."

"That’s literally my job description, yeah."

At the door, he turned serious again. "Hey. For real though. T'es bien ici? I know it's a lot of change all at once."

For a moment, she let the brave face slip. "Paris, I miss it sometimes. But you're my home too, so..." She shrugged, trying to play it casual even as her eyes got a little misty. "I’m fine wherever you are, Ky. Even in enemy territory."

His smile was soft, private—the one the cameras never caught, the one just for her. "That’s my girl."

After he left, she flopped back on the bed, dogs curling around her. The house felt too quiet, too new, too strange. In Paris, their place had overlooked a busy street. There had been constant noise—cars honking, people chatting, the little café across the street playing music. Here, in their gated Madrid mansion, the silence was almost oppressive.

She missed silly things: her favorite bakery, the grumpy florist who secretly gave her extra flowers, the familiar rhythm of her days. Hell, she even missed the Parisian traffic. But more than anything, she missed the anonymity they'd somehow managed to carve out in Paris. After three years, the local paparazzi had developed a weird respect for them. Here, she couldn't even walk the dogs without being ambushed.

The other day, she'd gone to get coffee and ended up being followed by three photographers screaming questions in Spanish. "Are you worried about the Madrid women?" "Will you be in the stadium for every match?" "Are the wedding rumors true?"

She'd panicked, ducking into a store only to realize it was a bridal shop, which immediately set off a new wave of engagement speculation online.

Her phone pinged with a notification. She hesitated before checking, bracing for more hateful comments, but it was actually a text from Alexia, Barcola's girlfriend.

Heyyyy bitch! Can't wait to see you tonight. I miss your face. Bradley says Ky's already gone full Madrid diva. True???

She smiled, feeling slightly better.

Not yet but we've only been here a week. Give him time.

Ousmane wants to know if Ky's seen the new place they reserved for him at Bernabeu? Apparently it's like a whole ass throne room.

Haven't heard but wouldn't put it past them. How are you? Still coming to visit us next month?

OBVS. Already booked flights. Hey, don't look at Twitter today ok? Some BS going around about you snubbing the WAGs.

Too late, she thought. But she appreciated the warning.

Nothing new. How's your new collection going?

Alexia had a sustainable fashion line that was actually incredible. Unlike most footballer WAGs who claimed to be "designers" but just slapped their names on fast fashion, Alexia had actual talent.

Nearly killed me but the lookbook shoot is next week. You'll model for me when it launches right? Need my girl!

Always ❤️

Setting her phone down, she felt a little more grounded. At least some things hadn't changed. She and Alexia had clicked the first time they met, both hustling to build their own careers while dating rising stars. They'd shared war stories about toxic fan encounters and media hit pieces over wine nights that never made it to social media.

Stretching, she decided to finally tackle unpacking. They'd been living out of suitcases for a week, with only the essentials unpacked. She padded over to the stack of boxes labeled "Bedroom" and started sorting through them.

In the third box, wrapped in tissue paper, she found the framed photo that had always sat on her nightstand in Paris. It was from their first vacation together, before the world knew they were dating. They'd snuck away to Corsica, staying at a tiny hotel where nobody recognized them. In the picture, they were laughing, caught mid-splash in crystal blue water, looking impossibly young and carefree.

No designer clothes, no styled hair, no carefully curated image. Just two kids from Bondy who couldn't believe their luck.

She placed it on her nightstand, the familiar image making the strange room feel a little more like home.

Her phone buzzed again. This time it was Kylian, sending a selfie from the training ground. He was grinning in his new white kit, thumbs up, looking as excited as the day he'd signed for Monaco all those years ago. The message read:

First official training pic! Coach says I'm already the best player in Madrid history. Obviously.

She laughed, typing back: Your ego barely fits in the frame. But you look hot in white. Not gonna lie.

You'll look hotter in that red dress tonight. Just saying.

You're obsessed with me.

Factually accurate statement.

Smiling, she set the phone down and continued unpacking, feeling lighter than she had all week.

Three hours later, most of the bedroom was organized. She'd set up her vanity area, arranged Kylian's ridiculous collection of sneakers (the man had more shoes than any woman she knew), and managed to find homes for most of their clothes.

Gatsby and Milo had "helped" by napping on every surface she'd tried to organize, but she didn't mind. Their familiar presence was comforting in the new space.

She decided to take a quick shower and then maybe film that unboxing video for her channel. She had a pile of PR packages that brands had sent to welcome her to Madrid—everything from local skincare lines to Spanish fashion labels hoping for a mention.

As she stepped into the bathroom, her phone pinged with an Instagram notification. Thinking it might be Kylian again, she checked it.

Instead, it was a DM from a fan account:

I know everyone's being horrible to you right now, but just wanted to say I've followed you since before you met Kylian and you've always been real. Don't let these Madrid bitches get you down. Some of us know the truth. ❤️

She smiled, genuinely touched. For every troll, there were still people like this. She typed back a quick thank you, adding the fan to her "respond always" list—a small group of followers she made sure to engage with no matter how busy she got.

After her shower, wrapped in a fluffy towel, she picked up her phone again, bypassing the hate comments to find the post Kylian had tagged her in earlier. It was from his account—a carousel of images: him in the new Real Madrid kit, a selfie with her in their new kitchen, Milo and Gatsby playing in the backyard, and finally, a throwback of them in Paris, back when he was just a promising kid and she was just a girl with a dream.

The caption read: New chapter, same story. Mi familia siempre conmigo. #HalaMadrid #blessed

Under it, the top comment with over 50,000 likes:

@o.dembele7: wesh frérot prends soin de toi à Madrid, on vous attend à Bondy pour les vacances 😂👊🏽 vous me manquez les gars

And below it:

@bradley_dls: La meuf la plus real de tout Madrid est arrivée, faites gaffe 🔥 à ce soir!

And just like that, Madrid felt a little more like home.

She smiled, typing a comment of her own: Prêt pour cette nouvelle aventure avec vous. Toujours votre fan n°1. ❤️

Then, just for fun, she added a second comment: PS : Apportez du lait à la maison, nous sommes sortis. Et Milo a mangé tes baskets préférées. Désolé, pas désolé. 😘

Let the WAGs and the haters chew on that bit of normal domesticity. She was settling in just fine.

She was not settling in "just fine".

Her Instagram post had painted the picture perfectly: happy couple, beautiful Madrid home, fresh start. #blessed

Reality was messier.

"Milo! Putain, c’est pas possible!" She groaned, discovering yet another designer shoe partially destroyed. The Jack Russell terrier trotted away without remorse, tail high like a victory flag.

She tossed the mangled loafer into the growing pile of casualties. Two weeks in Madrid, and Milo had already claimed four shoes, three throw pillows, and one very expensive Hermès scarf. The dog was clearly not adjusting well to the move.

That made two of them.

She flopped onto the couch, scrolling mindlessly through her phone. 9:38 PM and still no message from Kylian. He'd left for "quick drinks" with Cama and Aurel five hours ago. Third time this week. While she genuinely liked both men and was grateful Kylian had French teammates to bond with—God knows she'd kill for some familiar faces right now—but the constant absence was starting to sting.

Especially since living together—properly together, not the half-time arrangement they'd had in Paris—was proving more complicated than expected. In Paris, she'd had her own apartment to retreat to when needed. Here, they were on top of each other in a mansion that somehow felt both too big and too small.

Her phone rang. Not Kylian, but her mother.

"Hey, Maman," she answered, already bracing herself.

"Two weeks and now you answer?" Her mother's voice crackled through the speaker. "I had to learn from your cousin's Instagram that you're playing house with a footballer in Spain."

She rolled her eyes at the ceiling. "We're not 'playing house,' Maman. We're living together. Like adults do."

"Tu joues à la femme mariée sans la bague," her mother said bluntly. "You play wife without the ring."

"It's 2024, not 1985."

"The year doesn't matter. What matters is respect. If he respects you, he puts a ring on your finger before you uproot your whole life."

The conversation circled the same drain it always did. Her mother's traditional values versus her modern relationship. Her independence versus her choices. By the time they hung up, her mood had sunk even lower.

Was her mother right? Was she giving up too much for too little commitment? Her modeling contracts in Paris had been steady. Here, she was starting from scratch with only a handful of tentative Spanish connections. And for what? To wake up to wet towels on the floor and a boyfriend who was out with his boys more nights than not?

The front door opened, and Kylian's voice echoed through the marble foyer. "Bébé? T'es où?"

"Living room," she called back, quickly composing her face.

He appeared in the doorway, cheeks flushed with probably a few glasses of wine. His hoodie was unzipped over a simple white tee—he looked relaxed in a way she hadn't seen since Paris.

"Hey you," he said, dropping onto the couch beside her and pulling her into a hug. "Missed you tonight."

"Did you though?" she teased, unable to resist. "Seemed like you were having plenty of fun without me."

"Aurél made this crazy cocktail thing with some Spanish liqueur. Knocked me on my ass." He laughed, then caught her expression. "Shoulda called though. My bad."

"It's fine." She shrugged, not wanting to start a fight. "How are the boys?"

"Good. Cama's girlfriend might be coming back from Paris next week. We could do dinner maybe?"

"Sure." She nodded, genuinely liking Camavinga's girlfriend from the few times they'd met in Paris. "That'd be nice actually."

Kylian studied her face. "You okay? You seem... off."

"Just tired. And Milo ate another shoe."

"That dog's got expensive taste." He pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. "Anything else?"

She hesitated, then decided to be honest. "Mom called. Same lecture about how I need a ring before living with you."

"Ah." Kylian's expression shifted slightly. "The 'playing house' talk."

"Yep. Episode forty-seven in the ongoing saga."

He was quiet for a moment, just holding her. Then, "Would it make things easier? With your mom, I mean. If we were engaged?"

The question caught her off guard. "Are you proposing right now? Because if so, this is the least romantic proposal in history."

He laughed, relaxing. "Non, not proposing. Just... thinking about stuff."

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed with an email:

RE: Zara Campaign – Meeting Confirmed

A small victory, but she'd take it. Her agent had been working overtime to establish connections with Spanish brands.

"Good news?" Kylian asked, noting her expression.

"Zara wants to meet. Potential fall campaign."

"See? Madrid's warming up to you already," he said, genuinely happy for her. "You going to training tomorrow? Give the WAGs another shot?"

"Yeah, I think so." She nodded. "Gotta keep trying, right?"

Something flickered across his face. "Cool. Morning session?"

"That's the plan. Why?"

"No reason." He shrugged too casually. "Just... noticed Bellingham kept looking at you last time."

She snorted. "Are you serious right now?"

"What? I'm just saying."

"Jude Bellingham is not into me, Ky."

"I've got eyes, bébé. Dude practically trips over himself when you're around."

She laughed, genuinely amused. "Even if he did—which he doesn't—who cares? I'm with you, dummy."

"I know that," he said, looking slightly embarrassed now. "I'm just saying."

"You're cute when you're jealous." She poked his side. "The big Kylian Mbappé, worried about some English boy."

"I'm not jealous," he insisted, but he was smiling now. "And he's not 'some English boy,' he's actually really good. Don't tell him I said that."

"Your secret's safe with me." She kissed him quickly. "Now come to bed. It's late and I'm tired of being alone in this big-ass house all night."

As she drifted off to sleep later, Kylian's arm wrapped around her waist, she thought about her mother's words. Maybe they were "playing house." Maybe she did deserve a ring after following him to Madrid. But lying here with him, even with all the adjustments and challenges, she couldn't bring herself to regret the move.

********************************************

The Madrid training facility was already bustling when she pulled into the parking lot the next morning. She'd opted for simple jeans and a nice shirt—casual but put-together, understated but expensive. The WAGs here seemed to have a dress code all their own, and she was still figuring it out.

She wasn't a complete outsider this time. The security guard recognized her, offering a friendly "Buenos días" as she passed. Small victory.

The family section was already populated with WAGs and children. She scanned the area, looking for a friendly face, and spotted Camila chatting with a couple of women she vaguely recognized from the team dinner.

"Hey!" Camila waved her over. "You came back! I wasn't sure if you would after last time."

"Glutton for punishment, I guess," she replied, settling into the empty seat beside Camila. "How's it going?"

"Same old. Oh, have you met Eva and Sofia?" Camila gestured to the other women. "Eva's with Miguel, Sofia's married to Diego."

The women offered polite smiles and hellos—warmer than the ice queen treatment of her first visit, but still reserved.

"We were just talking about that new restaurant on Calle Jorge Juan," Camila continued. "Apparently the chef's ex-wife is dating one of the Barcelona players now, so there's drama."

"Football world is small," Sofia added, her English heavily accented but clear.

"Microscopic," she agreed, relaxing slightly as the women included her in their gossip.

On the pitch, the players had emerged for training. Her eyes immediately found Kylian, already laughing with Camavinga and Tchouaméni as they jogged laps. The French trio had quickly become inseparable—Aurél and Cama taking Kylian under their wing from day one.

"The French connection," Camila commented, following her gaze. "Those three are thick as thieves."

"I've noticed." She smiled, genuinely happy to see Kylian finding his place. "Ky needs that, you know? The connection to home."

"And what about you?" Eva asked unexpectedly. "Finding your Madrid connections?"

The question caught her off guard with its sincerity. "Getting there," she admitted. "Slowly."

"It takes time," Sofia nodded sympathetically. "When I first came, I cried every day for a month. Madrid can be... cold to outsiders."

"That's putting it mildly," Camila laughed. "Remember how they treated me at my first training? No one spoke to me for three hours."

"Wait, really?" She couldn't hide her surprise. "I thought it was just me."

The women exchanged knowing looks. "It's like a test," Eva explained. "They want to see if you're serious or just passing through. Many girlfriends don't last, you know? The wives protect themselves."

This perspective shifted something in her understanding. The coldness hadn't been personal—it was some weird WAG initiation ritual.

Their conversation was interrupted as the team broke for water. Several players jogged toward the family section. She watched as Kylian spotted her, surprise and pleasure crossing his face. He said something to Camavinga and Tchouaméni, and the three of them headed her way.

She stood as they approached, greeting Cama first with the traditional French double-cheek kiss. "Salut, Eduardo. Ça va?"

"Pas mal, pas mal," he grinned, returning the greeting. "Madrid te plaît?"

"De plus en plus," she replied, turning to Tchouaméni. "Aurel! Comment ça va, mon grand?"

"Tout va bien, la belle," he answered, bending slightly for his kisses—he towered over her petite frame. "Kyky parle de toi tout le temps. C'est fatiguant."

"He better talk about me," she laughed, finally turning to Kylian. "Salut, toi."

Instead of the cheek kisses, she gave him a proper kiss on the lips—quick but definitive. Kylian's arm slid around her waist automatically.

"Didn't know you were really coming today," he said, pleasantly surprised.

"Thought I'd give it another shot." She shrugged. "The WAGs seem less scary this time."

"They're warming up to you," Cama confirmed with a grin. "Hard not to."

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Jude Bellingham glancing their way while chatting with another player. When he caught her looking, he gave a friendly wave, which she returned casually.

"You know Bellingham?" Aurél asked, following the exchange.

"Met at the team dinner," she explained. "Seems nice."

Kylian's arm tightened almost imperceptibly around her waist. "Yeah, real nice," he muttered.

Camavinga caught the tone and smirked. "Ohh, c'est comme ça? Kyky jaloux?"

"Ta gueule," Kylian replied without heat. "I'm not jealous."

"You kinda are," she teased, poking his side. "It's cute."

"I'm not—" he began, then caught himself as he noticed the amused looks from his teammates. "Whatever. Break's almost over anyway."

"Poor Bellingham," Tchouaméni laughed. "Just looking and already in trouble."

"He looks a lot," Kylian pointed out.

"Can you blame him?" Camavinga gestured at her. "Your girl's fine."

"Exactly," she agreed with a laugh. "I'm a petit baddie, what do you expect?"

Kylian rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a proud grin. "Alright, alright. We gotta get back." He kissed her quickly. "Dinner tonight? Just us?"

"Sounds perfect."

As the players jogged back to the pitch, Camila raised an eyebrow. "So... Bellingham?"

"It's nothing," she shrugged, settling back into her seat. "Ky's being weird about it."

"Jude's sweet," Eva commented. "But he gets tongue-tied around pretty girls. It's kind of adorable."

"Last Christmas party, he knocked over an entire tray of champagne trying to talk to that model from the club calendar," Sofia added with a laugh.

"See? Harmless," she said, relieved they weren't making it into drama. "Guys look. It happens."

"Especially at you," Camila noted. "You should've seen the team dinner. Half the guys couldn't keep their eyes straight."

"Hazard of dating a footballer, I guess," she replied easily. "Pretty boys with wandering eyes."

"And what about your boy?" Sofia asked, curiosity evident. "His eyes wander too?"

"Kylian?" She shook her head confidently. "Never. That's one thing I never worry about."

The conversation shifted to other topics—the best schools for footballer kids, the most discreet shopping areas, the restaurants where paparazzi never bothered them. Slowly, she found herself being included in the WAG wisdom, little bits of Madrid insider knowledge passed her way.

During the next water break, she caught Bellingham glancing her way again. This time when he waved, she noticed how he fumbled his water bottle slightly. The WAGs were right—his crush was pretty harmless, almost endearing in its awkwardness. It was hard to reconcile with his confident presence on the pitch.

Kylian, across the field, clocked the exchange and frowned. She fought back a smile at his obvious displeasure.

"Your man's watching," Camila whispered, amused. "He really doesn't like Jude looking at you."

"I know. It's ridiculous." She laughed softly. "But kind of hot, not gonna lie."

"Men," Sofia sighed dramatically. "They're all cavemen deep down."

When training ended, she waited in the reception area for Kylian. Bellingham passed by, offering a friendly "See you around" that came out slightly rushed and awkward. Behind him, she caught Camavinga making exaggerated kissing faces, clearly teasing the Englishman.

Boys. Sometimes they never grew up.

Kylian emerged from the locker room, freshly showered and changed. His eyes immediately sought her out, a smile spreading across his face when he spotted her.

"Ready to go?" he asked, taking her hand.

"Mmm-hmm. Good training?"

"Yeah, coach says I'm settling in well." His thumb traced circles on the back of her hand. "You looked cozy with the WAGs today."

"Getting there," she agreed. "They're not as scary when you get to know them."

"Told you," he said as they walked to the parking lot. "Give it time."

"Speaking of time," she ventured, "Camila mentioned a WAG lunch tomorrow. I thought I might go."

"Yeah?" His expression brightened. "That's great, bébé. See? Madrid's not so bad."

"It's getting better," she admitted. "Slowly."

In the car, Kylian was quiet for a moment before asking, "You're not bothered by Bellingham, right? The way he looks at you?"

She laughed, genuinely amused. "Ky, guys look. It happens. Especially when you're dating Kylian freakin' Mbappé—they want to see what all the fuss is about."

"And?"

"And what?"

"What's the verdict? What's so special about Mbappé's girl?" There was a teasing note in his voice, but also genuine curiosity.

She pretended to consider the question. "Well, I'm hot, obviously."

"Obviously," he agreed with a grin.

"And funny. And smart." She counted off on her fingers. "Plus I can cook, which your fancy footballer friends probably never experienced with their trophy wives."

"So just the total package then?"

"Pretty much." She shrugged dramatically. "Plus I put up with your wet towels on the bed and your weird obsession with gaming until 3AM."

"True love right there," he laughed.

As they pulled into their driveway, she felt a small wave of contentment. Maybe they weren't fully settled yet. Maybe there were adjustments to make—to living together, to new careers, to Spanish life. Maybe her mother's disapproval still stung, and maybe the WAG world was still intimidating.

But they were figuring it out, one day at a time.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Camila:

Lunch tomorrow at 1? The WAGs want to formally initiate you into the Madrid secrets 👀

She smiled, typing back:

I'll be there. Should I be scared?

Terrified. But in a good way. Welcome to Madrid, chérie!

She was slowly finding her footing in the Real Madrid world—jealous boyfriend, harmless admirers, nosy WAGs, disapproving mother and all.

[shownohajimarida]

In the Beginning...

In the beginning, God made phantoms and thieves.

If you're reading this in English, there's a 90% chance you first learned the word Kaitou from Kaito himself—and only slowly come to realize just how many corners of Japanese pop-culture it's really bled into, from Tezuka to Tuxedo Mask to Princess Peach. There's thieves, there's thieves with style, and then there's phantom thieves. A law unto themselves in their own worlds and ours, a breed of gentlemen who can magically stay gentlemen while doing the most ungentlemanly things known to society.

You'd need a book—probably a whole shelf—to properly explore all the ancestors of this proud archetype, never mind all the twists and turns it's taken in modern times. But we're a bunch of poors in money and time, so let's settle for just one tonight.

Fun fact, there's a doctor in Japan who runs a full-time clinic, lectures for one of the top med schools, and still finds room to blog about his fifty-odd niche interests. With him lighting the way, we tracked down this: the oldest book Japan's National Library has ever picked the word Kaitou out of.

Not a gentleman sort of book, you'd assume—and be absolutely right. Dated 1908 (just a little after Leblanc's Lupin, just a little before his first Japanese translation), Eishirō Suzuki's Strange Worlds is a loud, proud freakshow, trotting out ghost story after tall tale after Believe-It-Or-Not article about some wackos in America marrying in a lion cage. Our story of interest comes about halfway in: six pages and change, unmistakably headed 怪盗.

What lies within? A tragically forgotten ancestor to this great and greatly profitable archetype? Or a dead-end that happens to share the name and damn little else? Or, despite all odds, a combination of both?

Why don't you see for yourself?

Pull up a seat, grab a drink, and enjoy our exhaustive translation of history's first...

Phantom Thief

In the days of Jōkyō,¹ near Shitaya's Ikenohata-town, a pawn-shop called Yamaguchi Place² stood rich beyond imagining. Its master, with eleven vaults to his name, was a long and proud worshiper at the Benzaiten³ shrine on Shinobazu Pond. Now, it happened that this man heard the Shogun’s offices had recently surveyed the pond for land-filling, and grew troubled.

One evening, having closed early and settling the day's accounts, the boy tending the shop heard a tap at the front door, and opened to look. Lo and behold—there was a magnificent palanquin, inlaid four-square with silver, bound on every side by tens of fine, sentinel-eyed Samurai. Shocked, the boy ran to his master telling all. The master, no less shocked, came out with warm greetings, asking the company into his home.

Then from the palanquin emerged a most exquisite woman, so noble and divine of bearing that she might have been taken for a celestial maiden, with face sweeter than any peach or plum, and dress of the richest twill brocade. With hardly a sound this beauty sat, drew open her vermilion lips, and bade all listen—

“To begin, my being is not of flesh, but an envoy of Her Lady Benzaiten, in whom thou hast believed all thy life. The Shogun's men mean to bury Shinobazu Pond, and Her Ladyship suffers no small distress hearing this, for Her own power may well draw sanctuary from any ladle's-worth of water, but Her kith and kin—some hundreds upon thousands of scales—must wilt and suffer without mires to call home. “Deep ran Benzaiten's pity, and with it a divine will to bring salvation of some, of any kind. Mercifully, thy garden declares a most generous pond, and in behalf of those kith and kin I call upon thee to guarantee it as their new sanctum. If thy faith in Benzaiten be strong and true, take not these words in vain. Know only that Her Ladyship wills a night of storm and squall, fast approaching, to lay Her kin. Come that day, thou shouldst make fast the doors of thy home, withdraw to thine own room, and put no eye at door-slit, nor foot outside to enquire. Heed this, and Benzaiten will grow thy riches ten-fold in reward. Such is my message, in sum.”

Hearing this, the man grew ecstatic—rapturous, even. He spared nothing treating his guest, servants and all, to the very end of their departure.

In less than a fortnight came a dawn with greying skies, and by afternoon rain was falling, the wind slowly rising. On this day the man chose to fast, thinking it the day Benzaiten would descend, and so admonished his family and cohorts, warning them to keep the doors firmly shut and let no-one out after dark.

As the night crept toward second-watch,⁴ the wind grew wilder and wilder, until all the trees and bamboo in the garden could be heard thrashing, and all the water in the pond roiling. Now every breath was held, every head bowed, every heart thundering, thinking it time for She to come. Gradually the rain stopped and the wind ebbed, and the master, unable to wait for dawn, immediately threw open the door, eyes cast on the garden and its pond. There, he saw fish darting—more than the prior day—and thought, Benzaiten, your fellows are sown. Then, thinking of the promised reward, he rushed to check his stores. But as he swept up and down the row of vaults behind his shop, what did he find? Every lock undone, and every door open! Now uneasy, he entered, and found nothing left! Not the pawn-goods, nor the furniture, nor the thousand-ryō boxes. Floor to ceiling, everything was nigh-bare. He stood alone, dumbfounded and gaping.

Now, it happened that a shrine sat in the mountains on Kōshū-Kaidō Road, and before this shrine came men in packs, reeking of banditry, laying down their fresh and ill-gotten gains, eager for a proper portioning.

Onto this the shrine opened its doors, and who should be shocked to see the bandits' chief! No older than twenty-eight years she stood, with beauty to shame the sky and stars. A beauty that laughed aloud and said—

“My, what lovely work, boys!”

It was this very enchantress who had gulled the shop-master by claiming to be a goddess's envoy—and then, catching the slightest storm, sent all these men to his shop in dead of night. Some had hitched ropes to trees and bamboo all around his garden, and whipped them to bluff the sounds of a roaring wind, while others had beaten at the pond to affect waves. Under such clamor they had cunningly hidden any sounds of vault doors opening, of wares being moved.

A most unusual—most phantasmic—thief, no?

—Eishirō Suzuki, Strange Worlds: Tall Tales and Oddities (1908).

¹ Approx. 1684–1688 CE. ² No relation to Kappei. That we know of. ³ Wealth goddess strongly associated with rivers and lakes. One of Japan's Seven Lucky Gods. ⁴ Approx. 9��11pm. Adapted from Old China's gēng-diǎn system, each "watch" marking one-fifth of the time between sunset and dawn.

[city-of-ladies]

Licoricia of Winchester (c. 1220–1277) was an exceptionally successful financier and businesswoman who acted as a leader for her community and frequently dealt with royalty.

Licoricia and her time

Little is known about Licoricia’s early life. Like many Jewish women of her time, she was likely highly educated. By 1200, England’s Jewish population numbered between 4,000 and 5,000. Marginalized and subjected to widespread antisemitism, Jewish communities faced fluctuating tolerance—often depending on their financial usefulness to the crown.

Licoricia first appears in records in 1234 as a young widow running a prosperous business. She had three children with her first husband: Benedict, Cokerel, and Lumbard.

Jewish women were not uncommon in the world of finance. Around 10% of loans recorded in the English king’s rolls at the time were made by Jewish women. Names like Henna of York, Mirabelle of Gloucester, Belia of Bedford, Chera of Winchester, and Abigail of London stand out among the many successful female Jewish financiers.

These women acted as independent moneylenders, traveling on horseback or by cart—often with armed escorts—appearing in court on their own behalf, dressing richly, owning estates, and lending money to men from various social ranks.

Licoricia’s business ventures

Well-connected and influential, Licoricia lent money to a wide range of clients—from farmers and local barons to the aristocracy and the church. Among her borrowers were King Henry III and his brother-in-law, Simon de Montfort. She also rented homes to Christian women and conducted business across southern England.

In 1242, Licoricia married David of Oxford, another prominent financier with whom she had a son, Asher. Their union faced obstacles as David’s first wife, Muriel, refused to consent to a divorce. It was only through royal intervention that the marriage was permitted.

Despite her marriage, Licoricia continued to manage her business independently. When David died in 1244, Licoricia was imprisoned in the Tower of London to prevent her from interfering while royal accountants assessed his estate. To reclaim David’s debts, she was forced to pay a sum of 5,000 marks—part of which was used to fund a new shrine to Edward the Confessor at Westminster Abbey.

After her release, Licoricia expanded her late husband’s business. Thanks to her access to the king, Licoricia was often called upon by other Jews to intervene on their behalf.

Though highly successful, she was not without controversy. In 1253, a man sued her for charging excessive interest on a loan that allegedly forced his father to sell his estate and forge documents. She defended herself by accusing the plaintiff of murder and forgery. With royal intervention, she managed to settle the case with only a small fine.

Unsolved murder

In 1277, Licoricia was found stabbed to death in her Winchester home, alongside her devoted Christian servant, Alice. Her coffers, strongboxes, and goods were stolen, suggesting the crime was motivated by greed. The culprit was never found.

Her legacy endured through her sons, who continued to refer to themselves as the “sons of Licoricia.” Asher, in particular, became a successful financier. However, just 13 years after her death, Edward I expelled the Jewish population from England.

Today, a statue of Licoricia stands in Winchester, bearing the message “Love Thy Neighbour as Thyself” at its base.

If you enjoy this blog, consider supporting me on Ko-fi!

Further reading

Bartlet Suzanne, Tallan Cheryl, “Licoricia of Winchester”

Berman Brown Reva, McCartney Sean, “David of Oxford and Licoricia of Winchester: glimpses into a Jewish family in thirteenth-century England”

“Licoricia of Winchester project”

Waterman Hillary, “Licoricia of Winchester, Jewish Widow and Medieval Financier”

Williams-Boyarin Adrienne, “Anglo-Jewish women at court”, in: Kervy-Fulton Kathryn,   Bugyis Katie Ann-Marie, van Engen John (eds.), Women intellectuals and leaders in the Middle Ages

[arenzalenskaya]

also there's. something about the rule of three in harrow that itches my brain and i am not sure if it was intentional or not but. three surviving lyctors, yes?

for the three virtues: patience (you'd have to have a lot of it if you were trapped in a grave for ten thousand years, and even more patience to love the world when your soul came out of it anyway), joy (c'mon gideon is just lil jester with a fuckass sword) and duty (i mean. harrow. do i need to?). stretching it a bit here, but three people dying upon discovering the "perfect" lyctorhood i.e. alecto (technically not dead) anastasia, and sammael.

father son and holy spirit.

you know where else the rule of three applies in this book?

and

referring to john and alecto respectively. the only ones who got the lyctoral process right.

EDIT: also adding @nibblinerasers observation:

father son and holy spirit. simple enough. (mercy voice) UNTIL.

the fucking temptations of christ. now, examining from this lens, taking the temptations to account:

stone to bread:

signifying the turn of an unlivable object into one that can nourish. first resurrection when john brings alecto to life. easy.

pinnacle of the temple:

quoting from wikipedia here - "If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down from hence: For it is written, 'He shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee: And in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone.'" hm. how about john's promise to harrow to replenish her house and raising her up to the position of lyctor?

mountain of temptation:

again, from wikipedia: "Barrett sees this as a temptation to accept the adulation of the crowds, assume leadership of the nation to overthrow Roman rule, take the crown of his own nation, and from there initiate the kingdom of God on earth." hey what is the first thing we see kiriona do in nona? show up on a screen visible to thousands of people on a decaying planet, announcing her intention to colonise it basically.

so. rule of three huh. it always comes back to these three terribly traumatized ladies. insert i've connected the dots meme

(ALSO notwithstanding the beliefs in some sects of christianity that if you call the devil's name thrice, he will appear before you. and seeing as john and alecto's names are said thrice in quick succession each, it really makes you wonder who the devil in the story is)

[cringe6fail6star6]

Random headcanon: Fanfics/arts edition

Foras reads MC x reader fics online.

As a matter of fact, everyone does, he just has more opportunities.

Sitri does too but he found an search engine extension that changed MCs name to Solomon. Also has a old ass account with specifically longest collection of first Solomon x Reader he commissioned personally from Astaroth.

I feel like Belphegor would commission someone to draw manga about himself n MC. Probably gives good tips too (added by Beleth or Gusion).

Idk why but I think some of them(Leraye n Gehanna gang specifically) have like meetings where they read each other's fanfics. Friendly competition. Like 2 devils always win the writober, guess who those devils r.

Belial probably had an ASMR channel where he did collabs with Astaroth. Now this account is well edited videos of random stuff. Or speedpaints.

N on speedpaints - Bathin loves them. Makes his own but anonymous.

Asmodeous has made his favorite fanfics into a hard cover books. Some of them are already ruined, but no worries, he can make new ones whenever he wants.

Lucifer tried to write a fanfic bc Gamigin got curious about them, but he's writing is just so "biblical" n uses "thy" "thyne" "thee" it was hard to read without a translator.

If MC writes fanfics/draws commissions - every devil will ask for a commission with MC x reader. Only few will go anonymous for this, and probably only for the first time - after that you will draw their face kissing urs.

Oh the shipping wars get uglier than war against angels. And angels aren't exempt from this one either.

Raphael has anon account to commission MC for MC x angel!reader stuff, gets weirdly into details but pays well... Just don't think about where he got money from.

[starry-bi-sky]

how do you clone a fey? that's trick question; and fey love those!

@the-navistar-carol (<333) brought up a good point while I was talking about my changeling danny au with her -- Dani! How would she exist in this au? Danny's a changeling - a fae. How would Dani, a clone of him, be created? How do you make a fey? Not through any means that Vlad is doing; you can't make a fey through unnatural means, considering the Fair Folk are nature. And Vlad's not a fey himself -- he's a halfa, even if he could make a fey, it's not in his best interest too. He's a powerful ghost, but even the weakest fae can overpower the strongest ghost. He won't want a clone of Daniel to be more powerful than him.

(In a three tier hierarchy it goes Ancients -> Fae/Mythos -> Ghosts. They all live in the Infinite Realms, but on different Planes. The fae live above the Ghost Zone in the Fey Wild, while the Mythos live beside the Wilds or down in the ghost zone depending on where they are. Places like the Frozone, the Athens Acropolis, and other such large islands climb throughout all three Planes.)

(While Ghosts can travel into the Fey Wild, its generally advised against as the ectoplasm tends to manifest differently there due to close contact magic. It can make it rather disorientating for a ghost, and as human spirits, the Fae living there would jump them faster than they could blink. So unless you're willing to play mind games with 'steal thy name eat thy face' fae, most ghosts keep out of the way of the Wilds. Fey can travel down into the Ghost Zone, they just don't bother.)

That's of course, not taking into account if Vlad even knows Danny's a fae himself. Vlad doesn't ring me as someone who really cares much about ghost culture or the going ons of the GZ. He might be aware that fae exist, but the moment he realizes he can't use them for personal gain he just doesn't bother with them. The risk is greater than the reward, and he'd rather not get eaten. But lets assume he's aware by now that Danny is fey, and has to take that into account while cloning him.

So, how does Dani exist? Good question! Honestly; i'm not sure. She might not exist at all, or if she does, she's more halfa than fey. Vlad would need a lot of human dna and ectoplasm to balance out all that fae magic. He manages to steal DNA from Jack and Maddie to do it, and since Jack's fey ancestry is very dormant its much easier to use alongside Danny's DNA.

In turn, it results in a little girl whose more human-ghost hybrid than clone. With that little extra boost in fey magic making her not a fey, but still relatively powerful. Dani is less of a clone and more of a lab-grown little sister. It's a rather tedious, complex process that has Vlad tearing his hair out trying to figure out. But he does eventually figure it out.

[moonlight1237]

Elder ᚠᚱᛖᛁᛃᚨ Younger ᚠᚱᛁᛁᛁᛅ

Freyja/Frøya (The Lady)

Epithets, Titles, and Kennings

Gullveig (gold-greed)

Vanadís (lady of the Vanir)

Gefn (giver)

Horn (flax)

Mardoll (root word Marr meaning sea. Sea bright)

Syr (sow)

Valfreyja (Lady of the Slain)

Lady of Fire

Heid (Völva from Voluspa)

Lady of the Disir

Prong (throng of the people?)

Skialf (This could be associated with a hall as most halls' names ended in this word, but also the name is associated with a wife who hung her husband a king)

Queen of Folkvangr

Chief of The Vanir

Queen of The Valkyrie

Possessor of The Fallen

Daughter of Njord (Dottur Njardur)

Sister of Frey (Syster Freys)

Wife of Od (Konu Od)

Mother of Hnoss (Modur Hnossar)

Processor of the fallen slain and of sessrumnir and tom-cats (eigandi vaffalls ok sessruimni ok fressa)

Of Brisingamen (Brisingamens)

Van-deity (Vana god)

Gondul ( a queen who makes two kings fight)

Astagud (deity of love)

Blotggdja (sacrificial goddess)

Of the Vanir’s consort (Brudr Vana)

Of Odr’s bedmate (bedvina Ods)

The god who’s weeping is beautiful

Ruling/Domain

Folkvangr is her realm and Sessrumnir is her hall.

(and is sometimes said to be where she takes her half of the dead but this is disputed)

Family

Njord is her father originally hailing from the Vanir but was exchanged as a hostage to the Æsir with his children (Freyr and Freyja). He is a god of ships and wind, commonly associated with wealth. Her mother is never mentioned but is speculated to be Skadi or Njords sister, an unnamed Vanir goddess, a final theory being Nerthus. A Germanic goddess from the time of Tacitus, during his accounting supposedly a goddess was worshiped all over Gaul. Her idol was brought around in a cart and kept in a sacred grove.

Her twin is Frey(r), and he rules over Alfheim. They make up a commonly seen idea of the worship and presence in mythology around the world of twin gods. Their names, which we commonly know translate to “Lord” (Freyr) and “Lady” (Freyja), are speculated to account for a fertility cult surrounding the Vanir possibly. During the Lokasenna, Loki accuses the two siblings of incest during his slander.

“Loki spake:

32. "Be silent, Freyja! | thou foulest witch,

And steeped full sore in sin;

In the arms of thy brother | the bright gods caught thee

When Freyja her wind set free." (The Poetic Edda, Translation by Henry Adam Bellows)

We have no other evidence to support this idea apart from the belief that the Vanir practiced incest in marriage and that Njord possibly was married to a sister at one point in time but still no evidence upholds these claims. Both Freyja and Freyr share a vast association with fertility and the land they also both are depicted to ride a boar and at a point, they each are mentioned riding a boar named “Gullinbursti” (“Golden-Bristles”).

She has 2 daughters Hnoss and Gersemi both of which translate to "treasure" though only mentioned in Christian sources and Gersemi is only mentioned once. In the Eddas, it says she has a husband named Oðr which is one of Odin's names, and gets into the Frigga and Freyja debate.

History

Getting into the debate on Freyja and Frigga it’s a tough battle between the texts, history, and linguistics. In the myths it’s very evident that they are separate goddesses with different personalities and attributes, Loki in the Lokasenna insults them both separately. From their names as we know them now Freyja only translates to “Lady” and Frigga means “to love” and we see that repetition across old Norse and Proto-Germanic with her name, we also see that Frigga's name is the closest associated to the word “Friday” with the days of the week transferring from the Romans to the germanic tribes we see how simply they took the names of the Romans gods and swapped them for associated Scandinavian gods, going from the romance language meaning “Venus day” to “Frigs day” as her germanic translations were so closely associated with love, which is another cross between her and Freyja, Frigga commonly is seen as a more domestic goddess and a wife, we see Freyja as this love goddess and in the text especially by Snorri Freyja is sexualized and made to be a promiscuous goddess, which could easily be that we are seeing what was once one goddess split into two versions or faucets of what they were before. One other confusing part for many people is Freyja’s husband Odr who is known to be the god Odinn. Freyja is also known heavily for her weeping when off searching for her husband, during Baldur's death Frigga's exaggerated focus is her weeping, which could easily be nothing important. But modernly the generally acceptable answer is that they are two different goddesses both important in their own right and status.

Frøya has a necklace she always wears. Its name is Brisgamen is a torc/necklace made by the dwarves and frøya supposedly spent a night with each of them who made it to get Brisingamen. In other myths Thor wears it dressed as Frøya during the fake wedding to Thrym the giant who stole Thor's hammer, then when Loki stole it and gave it to Odin. Odin made her start a war to get it back.

She also had a Boar named Hildisvini "Battle-swine" which she turned her husband oðr into and rode in one of the myths.

In the Grimnismal translation, it says "then" Odin picks not "and" giving the idea Freyja picks first but it's never mentioned otherwise. But modernly we accept that she does have the first pick. Gullveig is believed to be another name for frøya, she was a sorceress who predicted the Æsir, Vanir war and was burned alive 3 times by the Æsir each time coming back to life and was struck by spears and still didn't die.

She, like Odin, was known to use many different names throughout the myths and in her travels. She's the one who taught Odin and the other Æsir gods how to do Seidr magic. After the Æsir, Vanir war they exchanged hostages, and Frøya, Njordh, and Frey went to live with the Æsir in Asgard.

The Dís or Disir are referenced very often, always female, some called them female ancestors or fate goddesses which would include them in the Norns but they're also mentioned as Valkyrie in a sense as the Valkyrie were the Helpers of Odin and Freyja, they choose the who will fall and who lives during battles, etc. But most translations of the word Dís translated in Old Norse to "Lady", which is one of the same translations of Freyja, as Freyr and Freyja are "Lord" and "Lady". But then you have the many names used for Freyja, one being Vanadis, which they say means Lady of the Vanir (Vanir is one of the tribes of gods), but also some believed it meant that she was "the great dís" or Lady of the Disir Vanir, but it is known that they would call Freyja "Queen of the Valkyrie" and by translations possibly leader of the Dís, which then leads to more questions on the connection between the 2 (dís and Valkyrie). It’s known that Odin had his group of Valkyrie but that he had a group of "women" called "Odins Dís". Then you have 2 celebrations throughout the year, Disablot and disthing (this one has different names) which seem to mark the coming and going of winter, but also were more secretive and mainly within the home, some believed to be drawing down the ancestors magic from the alfar (elves) which with Freyja association to being "mistress of the home" (gets into the debate on her a frigg) and the name of the celebration may not have been the elves but the Dís possibly either as female ancestors or believe in ancestral connections to minor gods as a societal whole. Considering it wasn't uncommon for nobility to claim ancestry of some of the more famed gods (Odin, Freyr, etc)

Of course, Freyja is now a major goddess, if she wasn't before or even if she and Frigg were once the same being. They are now spilt just as Freyja is now much more important, but seeing the translation of Vanadis possible as "The great Dís" and Freyja having a connection to Gullvieg being Freyja and the connection to Freyja having rulership over Seiðr, etc. Could connect her to have been simply a leader of the Dís and or Valkyrie, and maybe it wasn't even her actual name considering Freyja translates to Fraujō in proto-Germanic, which becomes Frau in modern German, Frau means "woman" leading to the idea Freyja meant "Mistress" or "Lady" which is a title, not a name, which is interesting anyways. But of course, taking into account Old Norse poetry all the gods had different names and kennings. Which could mean we lost her original name.

The myths never actually show her as a Vølva but her association with magic gives us the idea she is along with the repeated idea that she was a goddess of sacrifices and that she was a “priest” in some texts, with the further association to gullveig this leads to the association that she could be a volva.

She has been described as having a chariot pulled by cats but they’re most likely domestic house cats based on the translations in stories the words used to mean only “cats” and if they were lynx or larger cats many translators believe the word directly referred to those animals would’ve been used instead, many older stories passed down orally mainly referred to her cats to be larger but we have no further evidence for either side.

Historical worship/practice

She had a fertility cult in the Viking age that stopped due to Christianity and a cult that lasted up until Snorri's age and time but that stopped soon after.

Hǫrg hann mér gerði, hlaðinn steinom,nú er griót þatat gleri orðit; rauð hann í nýionauta blóði, æ trúði Óttarrá ásynior (Hyndluljóð st. 10).

(He’s made a sanctuary for me, faced with stone, now that stone has turned to glass; he’s reddened it with fresh ox blood, Ottar has always trusted in the goddesses.)

This is one of the only examples of her worship or any goddess worship in the texts.

She and Frigga were called on during childbirth, and historically, our source came from a midwife.

In history, women of higher status would be named after Freyja in a sense being called “Fruvur” (ladies). Referring to the text before we see that many women who ruled over the household would be titled in her honor showing her ruling over the home at those times.

Associations

Death

Love

Lust

Magic (especially Seidr)

War

Cats

Wealth

Divination

Fertility

Beauty

Glory

Days of the Week

Friday, “Frigs day”

Special days

Alfarblót

Disablot

Elements

Fire

Numbers

9- Nine is a number found everywhere in Norse mythology, although nobody is sure why as it’s never explained anywhere.

Colors

Gold

Light Pink

Green

Copper

Silver

Yellow

Light Purple

Red

Brown

Animals

Cats

Horses

Boar/Sows

Rabbits

Swallows

Lynx

Falcons/Birds of prey

Ladybugs

Cuckoo

Plants and Flowers

Basil

Roses

Roseroot

Common Valerian

Mugwort

Rosemary

Apples

Primrose

Raspberries

Strawberries

Cinnamon

Poppy's

Daisy's

Almonds

Hay

Snow Blossoms

Linden

Essential oils/incense

Strawberry

Lavender

Lilac

Juniper

Cinnamon

Any sweet scents

Any baked good scents

Amber

Mint

Peppermint

Rose

Mulberry

Rosemary

Vanilla

Jasmine

Cypress

Sandalwood

Myrrh

Birch

Crystals and Metals

Rose quartz

Amber

Gold

Carnelian

Citrine

Any moonstone

Malachite

Black Tourmaline

Pink Tourmaline

River rock

Rubies

Divinational associations (runes/tarot)

Fehu, Sowilo, Berkano, Queen of wands, Queen of swords, The empress, The high priestess, The lovers, The star (Wildwood deck The Seer, and The Woodward)

Offerings and Devotional acts

Any Meads

Flowers (pressed or fresh)

Anything handmade for her

Stretching

Learning sword work

Exercising

Things are respectfully taken from nature

Jewelry

Poetry (especially traditional Norse)

Hot chocolate

Any tea

Wine

Sweet drinks or spices like cinnamon

Potatoes

Stews

Any meats

Any Berries

Ethically gathered Bones, Cat claws, and cat whiskers (DO NOT HARM AN ANIMAL FOR THESE)

Self-Care

Spending time in nature

Learning runes

Learning distaff spinning

Any imagery associated with her

Learning magic or divination

Any baked goods (bread, muffins, honey cakes, etc)

Honey

Honeycomb

Cat statues

Boar imagery

Fostering cats/kittens

Lighting candles every day in her honor

Burning incense for her (she likes things with flames or burning)

Bonfires

Flax bundles

A staff making a staff for your craft if you practice Seidr they are commonly used in it and you could make your devotional staff for that and have it by her altar.

Braiding your hair

Support women’s rights

Start a flower garden

Care for your significant other

Volunteer or support shelters

Honor your ancestors

Feed strays

Chants

Runic Chants/chanting the runes

Old Norse songs

(Both are commonly used in seidr)

Poem to Freyja-

https://www.tumblr.com/tears-of-amber/747489845291679744/freyja-in-the-honeysuckle-breeze-freyja-in-the?source=share

SOURCES

Poetic Edda translated by Jackson Crawford

Tales of Norse Mythology by Helen A. Guerber

The Norse Gods and Goddesses (Intro.)

Frigg and Freyja

The Vanir

The Vǫlva (Norse Seeress) and Seiðr

Valkyries (Valkyrjur)

Fólkvangr (Folkvang)

THE NORSE GODS: FREYJA || General info, what working with Freyja is like and offerings

Freyja (Freya) Norse Goddess of Love, Warriors, and Cats

My Experiences with Deities: Freyja

Seiðr Magic and Gender

https://teaandrosemary.com/freya-goddess/

https://study.com/academy/lesson/goddess-freyja-facts-symbols-norse-mythology.html

https://historycooperative.org/freyja-the-norse-goddess-of-love/

https://historiska.se/norse-mythology/freyja-en/

https://hrafnar.org/articles/dpaxson/asynjur/freyja/

https://www.britannica.com/topic/Freyja

https://www.northvegr.org/nordic-goddess/froya-freyja

https://www.spiritualityhealth.com/freyja-sensuality

https://www.voluspa.org/index.htm

https://sacred-texts.com/neu/poe/poe10.htm

https://www.academia.edu/90730001/45_Freyja

https://www.academia.edu/9715739/The_Cult_of_Freyr_and_Freyja

gods and myths of northern Europe

by h.r. ellis davidson

norse mythology - guide to the gods, heroes, rituals and beliefs

- john lindow

https://www.tumblr.com/fjorn-the-skald/153799577907/kennings-for-the-vanir-sk%C3%A1ldskaparm%C3%A1l?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/broomsick/760015871374721024/i-want-to-ask-a-question-would-freyja-be?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/tears-of-amber/714440167683964928/freyja-a-deity-deep-dive-some-upg?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/chaos-bites/746330888775909376/subtle-freyja-worship-honor-passed?source=share

[chaoticorganizedmess]

| Masterlist | Shinsou Masterlist | Events |

Covet Thy Neighbor

Shinsou Hitoshi x F. Reader

You become the target of your handsome neighbor's affections.

Warnings: Sexual content; Noncon; Voyeurism; Phone sex; Shower sex; Oral sex(Giving); Masturbation; Fingering; Barebacking; Creampie

"The starting point of all achievement is desire." - Napoleon Hill

As an adult, there isn't too much to complain about in your day to day life. Despite getting a little bored with the daily work grind, you felt like you were flourishing in adulthood. That was also thanks to the help provided by others.

Your family had always lived a modest life. Not exactly poor, but things got tight a lot. Perhaps that's why you were never really spoiled or stuck up. You kept your level head and humble disposition even after the change.

One day you received word that a distant uncle had passed. While it was sad to hear, your father only remembered meeting the man briefly as a child himself. He had been the only extended family member you all had; he had no one else on his other side either.

So it was a surprise when you got a large chunk of his estate. All thanks to his last will and testimate. You all couldn't have been more grateful. So your parents sold the little house you had grown up in and purchased a larger one in a neighborhood that was more affluent than your last. "For the grandbabies.", was your mother's answer to why such a big house just for them.

You decided to go a different route. Instead of continuing to live with them you got your own apartment. It was a spacious loft in an uptown high-rise. The closest to the city center you could find. There was a quaint café on a nearby corner that you got a job at.

Technically with your new bank account you didn't exactly need to work, but it certainly helped kill time during the day. The customers were nice and you got along well with the other staff. Some of which enough to make good friends after a little time went by.

Today...hadn't been that great. You spilled a customer's fresh drink before they could get ahold of it and later a different customer went off on you over something trivial. Your boss stood up for you but it was still just a difficult day.

So you were grateful when your boss let you go home early. You stopped to grab a few things at the market before returning to your building. As you stepped off the elevator, you notice a man standing at the door to the apartment next to yours. One closer to the elevator. He seemed to be looking at his phone while holding his key at the ready once he was done.

He was handsome with shaggy deep purple hair. Whatever he was looking at on his cell gave him a lazy smile. Cute, very cute. As you approached he finally realized your presents. Purple eyes moved to you only to widen slightly before looking you up and down quickly.

"Hello.", you greeted with a nod and he returned the motion. "Hey.", he replied and you found that his voice was kinda sexy too. There was something familiar about him, but you weren't sure what it was exactly.

You noticed him continue to glance your way after you passed and walked up to your own door. Standing there you shifted the brown bag in your hold as you balanced it on your opposite hip. Now you could dig for your keys in your pocket better. Or so you thought.

As soon as you tugged them out they dropped to the floor. "Shit.", you grumbled and moved to set down your bag before your keys appeared in a firm grip infront of you. "Here you go.", the mysterious neighbor commented as he stood before you. "Oh, thanks!", you chirped happily. "That's sweet of you!"

He shook his head as he handed them over. "Don't mention it. I'm Shinsou." You nodded and told him your name. You unlock your door and push it open. "Would you like to come in?", you ask and he seems to genuinely think it over. "Only if I can get a rain check.", he says and it's obvious he hated turning down your offer.

"I actually had a long night and I'm just getting in. Perhaps we can hang out this weekend though?" He peaks passed you into your apartment. "Unless your boyfriend isn't cool with it." You giggle as you rest the bag down on your counter. "Oh no. No boyfriend right now."

Shinsou almost seems both relieved and thrilled at your comment. Though he keeps his cool. "That'd be great though. I don't know many people around here. Just my coworkers, really." Shinsou nods and turns to leave. "So it's a plan. I'll bring pizza." He glances back at you from your doorway. "It was real nice meeting you.", he says with so much sincerity. "Definitely.", you reply with a smile and with that he's gone.

You run into Shinsou in quick interactions before the weekend. Finding out he was a Hero was definitely interesting. That must have been why he seemed so familiar. When your hangout night finally comes he brings over pizza and beer. It was a great time for sure.

Shinsou was funny. The sarcastic kind of funny but you liked that. He was so chill and laid-back. Since you had so much fun together it becomes a weekend tradition as the two of you grow closer over time. He becomes your closest friend.

You aren't sure when you started to notice weird things were happening around you. Well, more like TO you. You also couldn't be sure how long they had even been occurring before you noticed. It was like one day you were oblivious to these things and the next it was subtle helter skelter.

One day it was the evening when you received a strange call. Like a telemarketer, or at least that's who you assumed it was. You remember them asking your name and found it odd you didn't recognize the voice. One second you were answering the phone and the next you were sitting with it in your hand.

You remember standing up from the couch and nearly falling back into your seat. You were wobbly from your legs feeling like jello. That's when you began to notice the gaps in time that you were missing. What was weird was that you could've sworn the sun was setting when you answered the phone, and now it was completely dark out.

A few mornings after that, you wake up and find that you aren't wearing underwear or your pajama shorts. Your positive you had them both on but there were your shorts laying on your bedroom floor. It weirded you out but you chalk it up to being hot and kicking them off while you slept...but where were your underwear?

The next week you become more unnerved when another pair of underwear disappear. You had gotten into the shower and once again you lose a chunk of time. It was like suddenly the water was running cold with no hot water to be had. You were all soaped up though. Suds everywhere. The bathroom also seemed to have water everywhere outside the shower.

Once you returned to your bedroom to dry and change, you discover that your underwear wasn't with the rest of your clothes you had set out. When your adrenaline died down from the shock of the cold shower you sat on your bed. That's when you realized you were sore between your legs. Had you fallen in the tub?

You begin to grow paranoid. That weekend when you hang with Shinsou you tell him about the strange occurrences, leaving out some details. He reassures you that it must be stress. "You aren't used to livin' alone in the city after all.", he says as he pushes a stray hair behind your ear, "Maybe it caught up to ya without you realizin' it."

It was certainly plausible and you decided to accept that as the reasoning. "Well, I suppose you could be right.", you reply with a nervous chuckle. Shinsou insisted that you didn't worry about it. He swore that he would protect you. Not just because he's a Hero, but because he cares about you.

"Alot, actually..", he says as he stares at your lips. You certainly had a crush on the guy since you met, but now both of you seem to feel the same. The two of you slowly lean forward and you finally get to kiss him. That ends up turning into you guys making out for a while.

When it gets hot and heavy, you find yourself heated enough to stand and grab his hand to lead him to your bedroom. You weren't usually so forward, but you had known Shinsou for months now. You felt comfortable enough with him. He certainly didn't resist and the two of you end up having sex.

It seemed so natural between you. Like you've done it together before. When it's over and you come down from your high your heart swells as he spoons you. It truly felt special for the both of you. Unfortunately the magic didn't last for you when you find that you lose time once again.

When you first laid there in your post love-making glow the clock on your bedside table read 10:45 pm. It feels like as soon as you fall asleep you wake back up. You're laying there, slightly sweating and feeling like you've exerted yourself once again. Like you did right after sex with Shinsou. However, you sit up and glance to the clock. To your utter surprise it reads 1:15 am. How is that possible?

Your mind is spiraling and you start breathing heavy until Shinsou gets your attention. "Hey. Hey! You alright kitten?" It's hard to tell from his husky voice if he's groggy or not. Was he already awake? Had you woken him up? You begin to try to explain that you had experienced it again, but the words were hard to string together coherently.

Shinsou softly shushes you before he quieted you with a tender kiss. It calmed you down and you settle into his strong arms. Laying there for a bit before you finally drifted off. It wasn't easy at first, but you felt better that you had your Hero with you.

Shinsou watched your pretty face as you slept. He knew he was in love with you. He knew it the moment he saw you. He knew he really wanted you, but he surprised himself with how strongly he had to have you.

He also never expected to have so much fun with you.

With you growing so paranoid, he'd have to slow down. He isn't sure if he could stop completely. Not after so much has happened. Shinsou wasn't thrilled about using his quirk on people without them knowing as it was. However, he couldn't resist.

It started as little things. You'd answer him in the hallway and once under his control he'd make you say something lewd. It was always about him or your thoughts about him. The first time you noticed something wrong was when he called for phone sex.

Not that you knew that of course, nor were you aware that it wasn't the first time. Shinsou sat on his couch, stroking his cock as he instructed you to once again give your best from the other end of the call.

Fuck if you weren't filthy with it and Shinsou fucking loved it. He made you finger yourself once words weren't enough and you were moaning so loud for him that he could hear through the apartment walls. He came hard and was about to work himself up again when he got a call about Hero work. So he had to end the call with you.

It didn't take much longer for Shinsou to grow bolder in his actions. One day he used his quirk and you handed over your house key and waited while he went and had a copy made. From then on he came and went as he pleased.

One night he saw you sleeping in your cute matching pajamas, so he woke you enough to activate his quirk. You always did everything he said, of course. You were writhing and moaning so much just by him touching you over the clothing. "Take 'em off.", he instructed and you immediately lifted your hips and slid them down your legs.

He ate you out that time. Licking your slit and suckling at your clit. Fuck if you weren't the sweetest thing when you were turned on. Definitely cutest when you were coming.

Then there was the time when you were getting in the shower. Shinsou crept into your bedroom and pocketed your underwear before coming into see you in action in the shower. Under his quirk you moved seductively and touched yourself as you washed up.

It seemed like because of you Shinsou always seemed to have his cock in his hand anymore. "You want me to come in there and fuck you senseless, don't you?", he questions nearly panting with want. "Tell me."

"Yes.", you quickly answer but Shinsou is greedy when it comes to you. He lives for you begging for his cock. So that's what he makes you do. "Please Toshi. Fuck me senseless. Fuck me. Please. Please. Please." So Shinsou ripped his clothes off and jumped into the streaming water.

He spins you around and pushed you up against the shower wall. Your face squishing against the wet tile with every pump from behind. "Fuck! You're such a good kitten. So fuckin' good. Fuck, fuck-!" You clamp around his member when you tense up from your orgasm. Shinsou comes hard inside you and helps you stand once again.

"You've been a dirty little slut f'r daddy.", he says as he hands you the bar of soap. "Clean yourself up good. Do it special like a good little kitten." You suds yourself up nice and slow, giving him another show.

Shinsou watches intently for a bit before digging into the pocket of his pants laying on the floor for his cell phone. How could he not get a video? He filmed you for a few minutes, then he finally started to dress. He didn't mean to use up all the hot water with you before you could properly finish.

When your usual night to hang out came around, you spilled to him about all the things you had caught on to. You looked so spooked and Shinsou honestly never wanted that. He did all he could to reassure you. That's why he needed to slow down using his quirk on you.

Now that he had you, did he really need to use it like that? Not as much, he decided. Besides that, a tiny voice inside told him that he was lying to himself. He just had to hold back at least. Enough that you went back to normal and felt more at ease again.

That's why he decided to use his quirk on you one last time for a while. You just had amazing sex, but he didn't want it to end. So he caught you as you were falling asleep. A few seconds later you were riding him and screaming out again.

Shinsou fucked you position after position for the next few hours. You were his very special play thing. While you were gagging on his cock he wondered about bringing someone else in for a threesome in the future. Neither of you knowing he was taking advantage of your bodies. Making two toys out of you for his desires.

That nearly made him cum and shoot his load down your throat. "Shit. Stop it, kitten.", he demanded and you obeyed like always. He rolled you over onto your back and fucked into your cunt from over top of you to finish your lengthy session. Shinsou came and filled you up good with his seed.

Leaning up, he watched the fluid trickle out of your spent hole as he pulled out. He calmed down and rolled over to face away from you. After catching his breath he released your mind from his hold. Once again the paranoia set in, but he was right there for you. 'Waking up' and calming you down. Showing you that he's the one here for you. The one you need in your life. You fall asleep in his arms just like you should every night.

Your relationship really kicked off after that night. In the week and a half afterward you guys would make it official. Now, to your elation, Shinsou was your boyfriend. You were feeling better every day and things were going great again. Once more you were content with your life and even happier than you were before.

Shinsou was over a lot more, and your hang out nights ended up becoming your official 'date nights'. One particular evening, as you lay over your boyfriend while cuddling on your couch, he breaks your attention from the show he let you pick. "Hey kitten," he starts with one of his lazy smiles, "What do you think about meetin' my friend Denki this weekend?"

[talonabraxas]

Kundalini - Cosmic Fire Snake Talon Abraxas

"Kundalini, the serpent power or mystic fire, is the primordial energy or Sakti that lies dormant or sleeping in the Muladhara Chakra, the centre of the body. It is called the serpentine or annular power on account of serpentine form. It is an electric fiery occult power, the great pristine force which underlies all organic and inorganic matter. Kundalini is the cosmic power in individual bodies. It is not a material force like electricity, magnetism, centripetal or centrifugal force. It is a spiritual potential Sakti or cosmic power. In reality it has no form. [...] O Divine Mother Kundalini, the Divine Cosmic Energy that is hidden in men! Thou art Kali, Durga, Adisakti, Rajarajeswari, Tripurasundari, Maha-Lakshmi, Maha-Sarasvati! Thou hast put on all these names and forms. Thou hast manifested as Prana, electricity, force, magnetism, cohesion, gravitation in this universe. This whole universe rests in Thy bosom. Crores of salutations unto thee. O Mother of this world! Lead me on to open the Sushumna Nadi and take Thee along the Chakras to Sahasrara Chakra and to merge myself in Thee and Thy consort, Lord Siva. Kundalini Yoga is that Yoga which treats of Kundalini Sakti, the six centres of spiritual energy (Shat Chakras), the arousing of the sleeping Kundalini Sakti and its union with Lord Siva in Sahasrara Chakra, at the crown of the head. This is an exact science. This is also known as Laya Yoga. The six centres are pierced (Chakra Bheda) by the passing of Kundalini Sakti to the top of the head. "Kundala" means "coiled". Her form is like a coiled serpent. Hence the name Kundalini." - Swami Sivananda, Kundalini Yoga

[traumacatholic]

Hi! Could you please pray for me? I'm not from a Christian family but I feel called to Christianity and it's making me feel bad... I feel like I'm betraying my family by even considering another religion :( In fact it's making me feel so bad that I barely pray anymore. I feel guilty about everything

It'd be great if you (or anyone reading this, really) could pray so that I can gain some peace of mind :) <3

Of course!

I would say a good daily prayer is Psalm 50 (51) which is a Psalm of repentance. You can pray it morning and night. The Psalms are wonderful to pray with because they're very poetic, and they touch upon a lot of different themes. And because it's a structured prayer, you don't have to worry too much about your own words.

Here is a prayer to be saved through faith and to grow in faith in god:

All-merciful God, O Lord Jesus Christ, in Thy great love, Thou didst descend and become flesh to save all; again I pray Thee, save me by Thy grace! If Thou shouldst save me on account of my deeds, it would not be a gift but merely a duty; truly, Thou aboundest in graciousness and art inexpressibly merciful. Thou hast said, O my Christ: He who believeth on me shall live and never see death. If faith in Thou savest the desperate, behold, I believe! Save me, for Thou art my God and my Creator. Let my faith stand in place of my deeds, O God, for Thou wilt find no deeds to justify me. Let my faith be sufficient for all. Let it answer for me; let it justify me; let it make me a partaker of Thine eternal glory, that Satan may not seize me, O Word, and boast that he hath torn me from Thy hand and fold. O Christ my Savior, save me! Come quickly, make haste, for I perish! Thou art my God from my mother's womb. Grant, O Lord, that I may now love Thee as I once loved sin, and that I may labor unto Thee without laziness as I once labored unto Satan the Deceiver. Even more will I labor for Thee, my Lord and God Jesus Christ, all the days of my life, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.

Here also is a prayer that you can pray for your family members:

O God, our heavenly Father, who loves mankind and are a most merciful and compassionate God, have mercy upon Your servants (Name those whom you wish to remember) for whom I humbly pray to You to care for and protect. O God, be their guide and guardian in all their endeavors, lead them in the path of Your truth, and draw them nearer to You, so that they may lead a godly and righteous life in Your love as they do Your will in all things. Give them Your grace, and mercy so that they may be patient, hard working, tireless, devout and charitable. Defend them against the assaults of the enemy, and grant them wisdom and strength to resist all temptation and corruption, and direct them in the way of Salvation, through the goodness of Your Son, our Savior Jesus Christ, and the prayers of His Holy Mother and the blessed saints. Amen.

And here is a prayer to follow God's Will:

Lord, I know not what to ask of Thee. Thou alone knowest my true needs. Thou lovest me more than I myself know how to love. Help me to see my needs that are concealed from me. I dare not ask for a cross nor consolation; wherefore I only wait upon Thee. My heart is open unto Thee. Visit and help me, according to Thy great mercy. Strike me down and heal me; cast me down and raise me up. In silence I worship Thy holy will and Thine unsearchable ways. I offer myself as a sacrifice unto Thee. I have no other desire than to fulfill Thy holy will. Teach me to pray, and pray Thou Thyself in me. Amen.

I think it would be very easy to say something like 'faith and love in God is the most important thing!'. And while that is absolutely true, I also recognise how hard it can be when your family are from a different faith. You are not betraying your family by believing in God, by believing in Christianity. If anything, God is entrusting you to be a representative of His love and His Truth to them. There are a lot of Saints who were pained with the fact that their family members that did not believe. But they loved God so much, that they trusted God that by praying for their family members that they would turn to Him also.

When we pray, even in secret, it is very good for a family. Prayer draws God closer, and even your family members that do not believe, will be wrapped up in His sweetness. Speak to God about these difficulties. Speak about how you feel like you're letting them down. You're allowed to complain to God. You're allowed to express pain and frustration. Any kind of emotion. As often as this pains you, turn to God in prayer about it. When we think about particular family members, we can pray "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon (name)". Every time you look at a family member turn to the prayer "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy upon (name)".

Sometimes these short prayers are really good during times of anxiety and pain in prayer, because it's a sudden surge of the heart to God. It doesn't give time for the anxiety and pain to creep in before the prayer is open. And because we can do it regularly, it then opens us back up to longer prayer where we feel more comfortable.

But do not be afraid to cry to God, to yell at God. Bottling up your emotions about what you are going through will not help you. God knows what is on your heart, it is for your benefit to turn to Him and let all those bottled up emotions out and to pray for guidance and help. I will be praying for you, God bless you!

[p-redux]

So, you always screeched about being right, well you were proven wrong today. Shippers have finally the proof of SC kissing at the Paramore part of the Taylor Swift concert. Right there in public. Like a couple.

First of all, I don't screech, I growl, like the lioness that I am. I'm a Leo, after all. 🦁 Secondly, um, you mean, this? 👇 😂🙄

Those are screencaps from a video of the Outlander cast at the Taylor Swift concert last week in Edinburgh at Murrayfield. Apparently, the few remaining Extreme Shippers, who are holding on to their barnacle-ridden, long-sunken SamCait ship, have been given a life boat and think the ship is sailing again due to this. First, let me get this out of the way. HAHAHAHAHA 🤣😂. OMG, desperation, thy name is SamCait shippers. Sadly, there is a fairly new account on Tumblr that is led by an OG shipper returned from the bottom of the ocean to galvanize new shippers into thinking Sam and Cait are actually a secret couple. Try to keep up with the times, people, that's SO ten years ago. And, the Taylor Swift concert video is now being used as "proof" that Sam and Cait decided to finally "out" their "secret love" very publicly at a Taylor Swift concert of all places. Again, HAHAHAHAHA 🤣😂. Lord. You can't make this shit up.

Here are the screencaps lightened up and defined. 👇

Close ups. 👇

Um, this looks like a cheek kiss to me, or even Cait leaning in close to Sam to tell him something, since the concert is obviously very loud.

Regardless, Cait was also kissing Sophie Skelton and John Hunter Bell. Is she in a secret relationship with them as well?

Here's the actual video. 👇 Of the Outlander cast, Sam is the tallest male there, Cait is the tallest female there. It's obvious they would stand behind everyone for most of the concert so that their costars could SEE. If not, they would have been blocking them. Duh.

Sam and Cait have known each other for 10 years. They are good friends and costars. They have a bond via their shared experiences on Outlander. In addition, they've fake f*cked onscreen for 10 years, they are a wee familiar with each other. And as I've said MANY times before, most actors are not like you and me. They are a different breed, they are touch-feely, and flirty. That's just the way it is in showbiz. That DOES NOT mean they are a couple in real life. Why must I have to keep explaining the OBVIOUS over and over again?

When I watch the video, ALL I SEE, is two friends and costars having fun together. But because Extreme Shippers have been waiting for Sam and Cait to "finally reveal their relationship," like it's the Second Coming of Christ or some shit, THIS video will now be used as "proof" that Sam and Cait "came out as a couple at the Taylor Swift concert." And it will become shipper canon forever more. Along with all the other LIES Extreme Shippers leaders have sold to their unsuspecting minions. Soooo, for those who are new to Outlander and stumble into shipper blogs, and get persuaded by the blurry videos, manipulated gifs, and general bullshit, here is my REALITY CHECK for you.

Here is a very clear gif of Caitriona Mary Balfe kissing her ACTUAL, REAL HUSBAND, Anthony Gerard McGill aka Tony McGill on the lips in front of an audience and on live television at the Irish Film and Television Awards. 👇 click to watch

Here are the screencaps from the video gif. Look at that smile and those heart eyes 😍 Cait gives Tony before bending down to kiss him. 👇

Always remember and never forget, THIS is REALITY 👇Tony + Cait #tait

I hate to post a pic from Cait's father's funeral, but it's to prove the point that Cait would obviously attend her father's funeral with her HUSBAND, Tony. And she even took their son. Even Extreme Shippers should have a hard time explaining away Cait's mother and sister standing right next to her in this pic. But, of course in ES' pea-brains the mum and sister are in on the charade. Boy, TPTB's budget must be HUGE to be paying off not only Tony, but also ALL of Cait's family to hide Sam and Cait's "secret marriage." 🙄 That's sarcasm, btw. 👇

For the past TEN YEARS, I've posted SOLID PROOF showing the real relationship is Cait and Tony, not Cait and Sam, but here's an old post of mine with a summary. 👇 I get that the MAJORITY in the fandom know that Cait and Tony are married and know their marriage is real. But, clearly, given the amount of Anons I got pointing to "the video, the video!," some of you STILL need a reminder of REALITY and FACTS. 👇

So, quit sending me Asks about the video, or "how can a married woman cozy up to her costar that way?!" Easy, she's an actress and he's an actor, and they're friends for ten years, and are comfortable together. Simple as that. Nothing to see here, folks.

Go back to the shipper corner of Tumblr to live in delusionland. On this side, we like to bask in the glow of REAL LOVE. And that's TAIT, not SamCait. Now, shoo...

[ohowthemightyhavefallen]

I'm quite upset

Soon I just wanted to rant on here because I don't see any other discourse abt this-

I don't know if you've heard of Mazm games, but they're a company that's released some really impressive games based off of history and classic literature on Google Play and Steam.

Anyways, after Phantom of the Opera and (Thy Creature I think?) I hadn't seen any more new releases from them. Then Metamorphosis came out. I thought the art looked great at the time, but when I played the game, it was GOD AWFUL.

There's no game.

It's just a visual novel that gives you a false sense of choice. That's not to say that the other games like Jekyll and Hyde or POTO didn't have that either, but they brought more to the table. They had those little chibi missions where you could complete minigames and collect items- THAT WAS THE GAME ASPECT.

I didn't even get to find out if Kafka has that because you have to watch like 5 ads to get to the next chapter and there's no saves. Like what???

They introduced a new subscription system- which won't work if you giving your subscribers mediocre content, in my personal opinion.

Then they released Black Cat- same issue, they didn't even try with that one. They're releasing Romeo and Juliet next.

What worries me is the change of artstyle and the lack of passion and theming. That's what drew me to those games in the first place, and I'm sure that's what attracted others too. The original Mazm games took everything into account- music, font, the homescreens, the loading screens, inventory, pausing screens, you name it. Overall UI was great. But now, it's just a list of chapters in like Arial font with these new games.

AND THE ARTSTYLE OH GOD THE BEAUTIFUL ARTSTYLE

Now it's just slowly devolving into generic anime artstyle # 3

LIKE LOOK AT THIS

WHAT DID THEY DO

Like, I understand cutting back a bit, especially because these games are for a certain niche, and may not bring in a lot of money but this IS NOT IT

If they cut back on character design they could at least keep the chibi minigames so it would still be a game????

I hate this. I honestly hate this. They're alienating their target demographic- people who like classic literature and art, as well as puzzle games.

They really had something going, and this new direction is making me really sad.

Because I ADORE classic literature. POTO and Jekyll and Hyde were great games- I loved them because it was rare for me to come across content for books like that. Sure, they had their bugs, but you could tell that there was genuine thought and passion put into them. There's none of that in these new releases.

[ghostchems]

devotion - cardinal copia x female!reader

the cardinal™️ doesn’t feel that you’ve been a good little sinner lately.

author’s note: this is just filth. he is such an evil little bastard, it makes me insane. there’s something so slimy about him. about 2k words, SMUT!!!! mdni! 18+! ao3 link.

“I do not see the devotion in your work.” The Cardinal hisses from behind his pristine desk. All of the papers are exactly where they should be, meticulously organized and he peers at you over the stacks of them, his hands clasped together in front of him. “It is concerning leadership. It is concerning Papa.”

You are dumbfounded. You’ve never heard a peep of this before. As far as you knew, you’ve been serving the clergy and Lucifer with all of your might, making sure to praise Him daily and work hard for the good of the clergy. No one has ever pulled you aside to tell you to work harder or to devote yourself to the cause even more. 

“I am so deeply sorry, Cardinal.” You hardly speak above a whisper, fidgeting in the chair across from his desk. The Cardinal doesn’t blink, his duochrome eyes piercing yours. “I will work harder, I promise.” You have never been so serious in your life.

“Hmm. A promise is not good enough, Sorella. I want to see your devotion.” He sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth and extends his finger, then curls it, beckoning you to come to him. You clumsily rise to your feet, the sound of the chair wobbling behind you, and you slowly walk around to his side of the desk.

The Cardinal has always made you nervous, perhaps even more nervous than Papa made you. There has always been something about him, something dark and devious that led you to stay away from him. But here you are now, in his dimly lit office with nowhere to run.

“On your knees.” He purrs as he positions his chair so he’s sitting directly in front of you. He sits back and spreads his legs. Your mouth goes dry but you do as he says, sinking down to your knees in front of him, practically between his legs. You feel his hand on top of your head and he gently pressed it down. “Bow your head, Sorella, and recite our Satan Prayer.” He removes his hand from you once you lower your head.

“Our father who art in Hell. Unhallowed be thy name.” You start, your voice shaky. The Cardinal hums in approval. “Cursed be the sons and daughters of thine Nemesis whom-“ You’re cut off by a groan and your eyes dart up to him. He is stroking himself through his tight pants, a wet spot already forming where he’s leaked. 

“Continue, per favore.” The Cardinal murmurs, his lips curling into a sinister grin. You blink a few times and try to remember where you had left off but your mind is blank. He continues to stroke himself before moving to unzip his pants and your jaw all but drops. Your eyes dart up to his face and he is clearly getting off on this. “Start over. Now.” He growls and gives his hard, leaking cock a few pumps while his other hand fondles his balls.

“Our father who art in Hell. Unhallowed be thy name. Cursed be the sons and daughters of thine Nemesis whom are to blame.” You fumble over a few of the words as you rush through the prayer, bowing your head again to avoid seeing him please himself. “Thy kingdom come. Nema.”

“Nema.” The Cardinal groans but you keep your head bowed. His gloved hand reaches for you, planting a finger underneath your chin to force you to look up at him. Precum has collected at the tip of his cock and you can see how it throbs. “The Unholy Spirit flows through me, Sorella.” He grabs you by the chin and tugs you sharply so that you are eye level with his length. The Cardinal tips your chin up and then drags his cock across your lips, coating them with his precum. 

The door to his office flings open and you are startled by the swiftness in which he shoves you under his desk. You hear your heart pounding in your ears as you try to quiet down your breathing. 

“Copia, have you gone through the irregularities with our accounts yet?” Sister Imperator questions, her heels clicking across the floor.

“A-ah, yes I have, Sister. I should, eh, have them reconciled shortly.” The Cardinal’s voice cracks and he starts to flip through a few papers on his desk nervously.

“They have to be done, Cardi. It’s imperative we clear this up before Papa embarks on tour again.” 

“Si, S-sister Imperator. I will finish up right away.” 

You can’t help but watch his cock and how it pulses as he tries to act normal. Part of you wants to take it in your mouth then and there, see if he can keep up the charade with Imperator still in the room. You hear the door close and the Cardinal give a loud sigh of relief before rolling away for the desk just enough so that he can see you.

“Open your mouth.” He licks his lips as he slips one hand down to rest on the side of your head. You swallow thickly and open up for him. The Cardinal very slowly slides his length into your mouth, keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Hold this for me while I wrap this up for Imperator, si?” It’s a question but you don’t have a choice. He leans over you and starts to do some work at his desk. “Don’t move, Sorella. Just… keep it warm for me.”

His cock is so heavy on your tongue. You focus on breathing slowly through your nose as saliva starts to pool in your mouth. It’s hard not to move, not to adjust your head to give yourself some relief for fear of making him angry. You can hear him working above you, scribbling away at his papers. After a while, one of his hands dips below his desk and he manages to push the top of your habit off your head.

The Cardinal continues working but he uses his one hand to play with your hair and his to stroke at your jaw. The affectionate touches are surprising given the way he has treated you since you’ve stepped foot in his office. His fingers knot in your hair and he slowly pulls you up his length with a groan. You hear his pen drop and he leans back to peer down at you. 

“Such a good girl.” He hums and rests his other hand on the back of your head. He guides you slowly down his length until his cock hits the back of your throat and your nose is pressed against his beat pubic hair. Your eyes water and you swallow around him, causing him to give a low moan. The Cardinal’s hips jerk shallowly into your mouth a few times and you gag on his cock. 

You plant your hands on his thighs for support as he starts to thirst himself into your mouth, his hands holding your head in place. You peer up at him through damp lashes and the look on his face sends a jolt of arousal through your body. His eyes are half-lidded, his lips quivering before parting and giving a soft sigh. His tongue darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips, smearing his black upper lip.

You narrow your eyes at him, then close them completely as you moan around his cock, running your tongue along the underside. The Cardinal’s breath hitches, his hips stuttering for a moment. He loosens his grasp on your head but keeps his fingers knotted in your hair.

“Th-that’s it, Sorella.” His voice is strained but his eyes never leave you. You start to bob your head up and down his length, your jaw already relaxed from having him in your mouth for so long. The Cardinal’s moans grow louder, his chest heaving and you feel his legs tremble beneath you. You dig your fingers into his thighs and you hear him whine quietly. 

You sink yourself down to the hilt, his cock hitting the back of your throat again as he moans deeply. You swallow around him once, then again and his hips stutter from the feeling.

“F-fuck, cara your d-devotion is - ah - apparent.” The Cardinal growls and he forces you down even further on his cock. “R-receive Unholy Communion.” Your throat spasms around him and a husky groan rumbles up from his chest as he cums. You feel his cock pulse and you swallow his seed diligently, drinking him down. 

He slowly pulls his cock from your swollen lips and looks down at you, his hair mussed and the paint around his eyes smudged. You start to slowly stand and smooth out your habit as he tucks himself away in his pants.

“I’m not finished with you yet, mia cara.” The Cardinal whispers coarsely and shifts in his chair, his eyes drifting over your figure. “Undress.” 

You know you don’t owe him anything, he even said that he could “see” your devotion now. But the desire that is surging inside you clouds your judgement. You slowly start to take off your habit until you’re down to your bra and underwear. 

“All the way.” He orders sharply and he narrows his eyes at you. You swallow thickly before unclasping your bra and sliding your panties down your legs. The Cardinal moans at the sight of you and quickly has you by the hips, pulling you down and settling you into his lap. He presses your cunt firmly against his thigh and you give a soft moan at the friction.

“Take what you need, Sorella.” He tugs your hips forward, grinding you against his thigh. Your ball your fists in the fabric of his suit and you whine as you start to rut against his leg. The Cardinal dips his head down and his mouth immediately latches on to your neck, pressing harsh kisses down the sensitive skin. His one hand rests on your back while the other fondles your breasts, his thumb brushing over one of your nipples before giving it a rough pinch.

You would be ashamed of the way you are moaning for him if what he is doing didn’t feel so good. He bites along your collarbone and you’re feeling feverish, your hips snapping recklessly as you chase your release. One of your hands rests on his head, fingers carding through his hair as he lowers his head even further, planting sloppy kisses down your chest. 

You tip your head back and a string of moans spill from your lips as you feel yourself start to teeter on the edge. The Cardinal growls against your chest and you can feel the vibration flow through you. His mouth finds one of your nipples and seals around it, sucking it into his mouth as his tongue teases it. 

Your nails dig into his scalp as you cum on his thigh, a sharp cry ripping from your throat. His hands fall to your hips and he helps ride you through your orgasm while his mouth stays firmly on your breast.

“Copia!” 

He freezes before his mouth pops off of your nipple and he presses your chest firmly against his. His arms stay around you to hide as much as your naked body as possible. The two of you had been so distracted you didn’t notice the door open.

“S-Sister Imperator, un minuto, per favore!” He peeks at her over your shoulder.

“My office. Now.” She snarls. You can’t see her but you can tell that she is pissed. Imperator slams the door on the way out and part of you hopes that the Cardinal may be in some sort of trouble. He relaxes against you, his grip on you loosening as you lean back with your hands on his chest. His fingers drift lightly over your bare ass and he sighs.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Sorella?” 

Your cheeks redden and you stare at him, eyes wide. The Cardinal gives your ass a harsh squeeze and you squeak, your eyes fluttering.

“Y-yes, Cardinal.” You say in a hushed tone and he grins wide. He leans in and kisses you hungrily, for the first time, his tongue invading your mouth. You sigh against his lips, pressing your body in close.

“Come to my quarters this evening.” He purrs once he pulls away only slightly. “We’ll have our own ritual. We’ll make Lucifer proud, si?” 

Before you can answer, he’s picked you up and places you on his chair. He grabs a few papers and a pen and heads out the door without casting you a second glance. He is most certainly heading to a meeting with a cum stain on his pants.

You give a loud sigh of relief.

The man is deranged.

And, well… you might be a teensy bit in love with him.

[indibutterfly]

The Amazing Digital Office One-shot

Okay so a little bit ago I found this au and instantly fell in love with the idea and concept.

Fic contains the ships: Showtime and Checkmate

Office au is by @pikavani

Hope you enjoy and don’t find this too cringe!

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“Almost done….” She couldn’t wait to finish. Pomni had been working on the same tax return for over four hours and by the look on her face, it was evident she needed a rest. Finally she was able to enter in the last of the balances and go home for the day.

“Sweet relief I will now know thy name~” The accountant muttered to herself with a face portraying satisfaction. Pomni arose from her desk and went to get one last cup of coffee for the day. It was a tradition, something akin to a reward for her, for not giving up and throwing her entire computer in the shredder. As she entered the break room however, she heard the voice of another.

“And what kind of effects will the medicine have?” Pomni hid behind the vending machine, as she watched her senior converse on the phone about some type of medicine. Her heart sank as she instantly knew what this conversation was about.

“Just…start the treatment, I’ll be by later to discuss further options.” With that Kinger hung up his phone and sighed. Normally, Pomni wouldn’t intervene. She knew his situation already and didn’t want to pry. However, Kinger was a father figure to her and the only one would always tell Caine if she was visibly overworking herself. She approached the downtrodden chess piece and handed him a can of coffee from the vending machine. Kinger looked to her and accepted the coffee before taking a swift sip from the can.

“It’s Queenie…” He began,

“She took another turn. This time the doctors are wanting to start a new treatment plan, but the side effects….”

Pomni’s face fell. She placed a hand on her colleague’s shoulder. He took a breath and began to continue.

“I’m supposed to head over to the hospital soon, but I keep having to answer the doctor’s calls that I am so far behind on my work!” He began to shake from the mere thought of all he still had yet to accomplish. Pomni placed a hand underneath her chin as she attempted to provide an optimistic solution.

“You could ask Caine for an extension. He understands your situation so I am sure he’ll give you one!” Kinger shook his head.

“He’s given me multiple extensions already. I wouldn’t feel right keeping my job if I didn’t get the forms in today.” Pomni looked down at the coffee in her hand. Most people would give him a pat on the shoulder and tell him ‘hope everything works out’. Most people would just head home and maybe ask him how it went tomorrow. The brunette sighed and looked Kinger with determination.

“I’ll finish your forms.” The chess piece nearly dropped his coffee before giving a heavy sigh.

“That’s nice of you to offer, but I haven’t done much on the forms. It would take you almost all night to finish work. Besides you’re already done for the day, you should be heading home.” She turned towards Kinger and removed the coffee from his hands, whilst giving him a look of determination.

“I am more than capable of finishing those forms for you before the end of the day. Please Kinger, go to your wife. She needs you.” Tears flooded the eyes of her senior as he hugged her tightly. He didn’t hear another word as with a smile on his face, he darted out the doors of the break room. Pomni simply smiled before looking back at the vending machine.

“Looks like I better get more of these…”

As hour after hour passed and all other employees had returned home, the brunette accountant worked tirelessly on the unfinished forms. She was so engulfed in her work that she didn’t even notice Caine approaching behind her.

“Pomni! What are you doing here so late?!” Silence. The head of the company tried once again to attain the attention of his employee.

“Pomniiiiii~ Helloooooo~” She didn’t even notice when he waved his hand in between her face and the computer screen. Caine sighed, before reaching over and grabbing one of the numerous coffee cans she had scattered across her desk. He popped the can open, and instantly gained Pomni’s attention.

“Glad to see you still value coffee over me!” He spoke with a teasing voice as he handed her the drink. She smirked and accepted the drink

“Coffee doesn’t make me wanna pull my hair out most of the time I’m around it.”

“How dare you! I am a joy and a pleasure to be around!” Caine shouted feigning offense to his employee’s words. This got a laugh from her. Pomni shook her head to regain her focus and returned her gaze to the computer. Caine looked towards her computer screen and recognized what she was working on.

“Care to tell me why you are doing Kinger’s job?” Pomni did not look away from the computer screen as she answered the question.

“I offered.” The head of the company did not care for that answer one bit.

“And why exactly would you do that?” This time Pomni didn’t answer, and instead chose to continue working on the forms. The annoyance Caine was feeling at that moment overpowered him. With ease, he spun her chair around and forced her to look at him. A stern yet calm expression was etched on Caine’s face.

“Tell me this instant why you are doing Kinger’s work, or there will be consequences.” Pomni knew better than to argue with Caine when he was in ‘boss mode’. It didn’t quite work out well the last time for her. She sighed and reluctantly started her explanation.

“Queenie took a turn for the worst this afternoon and Kinger needed to leave early.”

“Why didn’t he come to me and ask for an extension?”

“He said it wouldn’t be right for him to keep his job if he kept asking for extensions.”

“Yet he feels alright knowing his colleague is doing his work for him?” Pomni shook her head rapidly, fearing that Caine would punish the poor chess piece.

“Caine, I begged him to leave. He was going to stay while his wife wasn’t doing well in the hospital. You of all people know that Kinger is one of the hardest working members here. He would never purposefully not do his job!” The head of the company sighed while massaging his upper gums from the headache he now had. He suddenly took a seat at the desk next to Pomni’s. The woman looked confusingly at Caine before he spoke gently.

“There’s no way you’re going to finish that whole form tonight by yourself.” With a gentle smile he booted up the computer on the left of Pomni’s. The brunette accountant returned his smile as the two began to focus on the lengthy forms. After what felt like forever, Caine and Pomni finished the forms and were able to turn in for the evening. As Caine stretched, he glanced over at Pomni, who was tidying up her desk. With a chuckle he spoke,

“Y’know…you remind me a lot of my wife.” This caused the employee to stop in her tracks.

“Your…wife?” She repeated confusingly.

“Indeed. In my opinion, she works far too hard and far too much. Would you believe that she even did something as crazy as take on others burdens even when they are not hers to carry?” Pomni smiled and responded with a laugh.

“Sounds like your wife and I are a lot alike.” The head of the company joined in on the laughter.

“You have no idea~” He stood up from his chair and placed a kiss on the cheek of Pomni as he embraced her.

“Please don’t ever do something like this again. I love that you wanted to help Kinger out, but everyone should be responsible for their own work.” Pomni chuckled as she rested her head on Caine’s shoulder.

“Sorry boss, but that’s one rule I refuse to follow. I’d do this again in a heartbeat.” Caine gave an exhausted sigh.

“What am I going to do with you?”

“You could drive me home~” This caused Caine to let out a laugh.

“I thought you liked taking the train?” Pomni looked up and gave her lover a tired expression.

“If I take the train I am most definitely falling asleep there.” The head of the company gave a gentle kiss to Pomni’s forehead.

“I suppose if I let that happen I’d be a pretty terrible husband now wouldn’t I?” With that the two walked to Caine’s car and headed home.

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

I am going to do a bunny doll fic of this au next…why? Simple because I want to 🫠

[mercutiosblog]

finding this wonderful dividers account (@/thecutestgrotto 🫶) hath prompted me to make an introduction post as my fellow veronians have made (beware, for I shalt be overusing these – they are so pretty!)

hello! 'tis mercutio 😎 and this is mine ask blog!

thou canst ask me anything thy heart desireth; from philosophical questions to verona gossip, I shalt answer them all, while trying my best to be funny, of course 😌 and my messages are open! (thou wilt not see me as thy follower, for this is a sideblog)

but prithee, be kind! above all, we are civilised citizens (that is a lie)

some things thou shouldst know about me:

I hate tybalt

I love benvolio

romeo is my bestie

paris and the prince of verona are my noble kinsmen

I like making jokes and puns 😍

rizz is my middle name

I have decided to take part in this feud because I like the drama and not because I have any affiliation with the families 🫡

(actually, I do, for romeo and benvolio are my good friends. oh well, thou gettest the point)

and I'm an adult, so keep that in mind when thou art interacting with me as a minor! I want this to be a safe and comfortable space for everyone

I s'pose that is about it. oh, and here's my friends' blogs! thou shouldst support them fr (even tybalt)

@urfavmontague (deactivated)

@romeonotexiled (deactivated)

@the-lesbian-romeo

@fairjuliets

@thecapuletjuliet (inactive)

@tybaltcapuletsblog (deactivated)

@tybalt-who-crochets

@benvoliomontaguereal

@county-paris (deactivated)

@prince-of-verone

@father-lawerence

@valentineescalus

@dailymercutio (me in an alter universe)

@hamlet-the-dane-official (a friend from denmarke)

@shakespeare-official-account bestie shakespeare

@titania-truly

@the-real-fairy-king

I thank thee for reading! lots of love ❤️

(except for thee, tybalt)

[lilithprincessofdarkness]

Lilith Prayer by Leala Daigle Pen name: Lailith Hazot Venus

Oh, sinful Lilith of Edom how thee stray

So far from grace being a woman.

Dancing with Lucifer maiden may I say,

It's not your fault they do not understand,

Aphrodite christening the Tree of Life.

An earthy female with no comprehension

Of pain she loves but all of nature with no strife.

She is the Malkuth of Edom, the nocturnal kingdom.

The internal force of a woman's love.

The mother Earth who nourishes man,

This nurturing force is given from above.

The intelligence of Samael, God's nocturnal angel,

Just handed right into your hand with no demand.

Knowledge fell in love with women and man ran.

There is no evil angels that fall

Lovely Lailah the protective night, Princess of Darkness:

Hear my call, thy maiden dancing in moonlight tall,

Thee sweet fae echoing the wolves’ calls,

Giving the secrets of the Earth to the roots of life.

Oh, a piece of my heart offered unto thee beautiful intellectual creatrix.

~

If anyone would like to add to the Lilith Prayer or would like to contribute their own Lilith Prayer as an addition to this one on this post, you are more than welcome to message me regarding this.

LILITHIAN LIGHT AND LOVE ❤️ FOLLOW ME ON TUMBLR @lilithprincessofdarkness

More to 'The Lilith Prayer':

Lilith's story as Inanna: