#cries in slavic

[edgepunk]

if you think you have trouble understanding "young people slang" on the internet, imagine being a non-native english speaker and bashing your head against the wall bc you can't figure out what the internet's latest favorite word even means

[delicris]

slavic remus lupin will always have my heart, nobody does it like him, he would eat slavic mythology shit for breakfast, lunch and dinner, would know all the modern poets of his country, along with the modern history, and he wouldn't tell anyone anything unless they asked, but after that, he'd be an unstoppable force, info-dumping almost like his life depended on it, i love him i love him i love him

[bewby]

omg ur russian........... u do have a slavic girl swag aura about u

HHJVHAHHHHGFZUJJRJTT WHAATTT DOES THIS MEAN..... i'll take it as a compliment .... slavic girl swag.... that's the energy i'm trying to give off fr 💯

[whaleofatjme1920]

Kinktober Day 4: Stalking/Obsession

Stalking/Obsession - Eyeless Jack X F!Reader

Warnings: DUB CON, breeding kink, biting, marking

AN: I don't speak Polish so forgive me </3. ALSO this is a take on my dear @creepynoodleheadcannons's prompt featuring EJ on Day 19 from their 2022 Kinktober. Will tag the fic HERE.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

Reblogs are appreciated!

In the darkness of your room, you sat curled in your sheets with the feeling of dread coursing through your veins. Sweat ran down your brow, down the back of your neck and soaked your bed as you stared at your window. You saw his shadow looming just outside, a monstrous being that had been tormenting you for the first half of the year. Your heart thumped wildly in your chest like a little rabbit about to be caught in the jaws of a wolf as his claws scratched against it. 

He’d never been so bold before. 

When he first started, he was silent. His sharp claws played with the seams of your mind, delicately lifting the fragile threads before popping them up and breaking them, reveling in the sound of the strings snapping. It was small. A coffee cup you’d thrown away with your lipstick marks had gone missing but you assumed you’d managed to throw it out somewhere else. The hairs from your brush had been cleaned out but weren’t in the trash. Some of your clothing had gone missing. You assumed that you were becoming increasingly forgetful, but your underwear going missing? Your still full shampoo and conditioner bottles disappearing? 

And then he revealed himself. You thought you’d accidentally summoned a demon when he first appeared in the corner of your eye. He was always there, watching, waiting, and so fucking persistent. The way he spoke about you was deranged, like you were the only thing he craved in the entirety of his life. He spoke of how sweet you’d be - his final meal, the feast to end all others. 

“Go… Go away,” you shakily cried out while you dug your face into the pillow in an attempt to fend him off. But you knew it was a useless attempt. Tonight was the night he’d finally make you his and devour you whole. Your body shook with fear as you watched the shadow of his hands move sluggishly, like he wawa toying with you on how slow he could be. Toying with you, building up his own anticipation with glee. You heard Polish spill from his lips, or maybe an archaic form of it, and like magic, the window flew open. It invited the colder of October air into your room, red and orange leaves spilled across your floor as his large form blocked out the light of the moon herself. 

“You don’t really mean that,” he purred. His voice was deep and laced with a Slavic accent that sung with the cadence of ancient gods and their demons. His face was hidden by a mask, a dark pool of inky blue while the eye sockets wept with tar. If you looked close enough, you could see the knife marks of where it had been carved a very, very long time ago. He slipped through your window despite his size. Your nose filled with his scent. Musk. The earth. Iron. Smoke from campfires not long doused. Ammonia. 

Your stomach wanted to wretch at the very smell of him. Fear stoked every part of your body as you pried your eyes away from your pillow and peeked up at him. He was large, much too large. The moonlight framed him as dark and imposing. He was strong, you knew that, and his skin was the color of ash. And for a creature that seemed to take joy in pursuing a much more human form, he still reeked of otherworldly. His legs were cloven, like that of a black goat, and his teeth were sharp, slightly yellowed and large like that of an apex predator. Roots and the earth seemed to crawl up his legs like the earth itself wanted to reclaim him, and his joints didn’t seem to fit him right. His elbows, his knees, shoulders, everything was popped into place haphazardly, a vessel to contain something much larger than what he was born as. 

He took advantage of your fear as you looked up at him. His grin only widened behind his mask. He crawled up your bed, caging you in with his body. His clawed hands traced your warm body as you balled up in a weak attempt to shut him out from you. 

“Please, don’t,” you murmur as you watch his clawed hands crawl up your body. “I already told you no-”

He gave you a look from behind his mask before reaching his hand upwards to remove it. His arm moved over to rest it on your nightstand, as if he were making himself comfortable. His mouth was curled upwards into a grin, large and knowing. 

“Come now, kochanie moje. Don’t be so frigid towards me. Open up. Let me in.” His sharp talons moved to cut your clothes from your body, not caring about your cries of protest. “You cannot resist me forever,” he whispered in your ear as your body trembled. “Try and fight as you may, your body calls for me, and I must answer. You were meant for this,” he breathed in your ear as you meekly held your hand up to his large chest in another attempt to push him off. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered. 

“Tak kochanie,” he whispered back, “you do. I need you. Don’t you see what you’re doing to me? I need your body, your heart, your mind, your very soul,” he groaned as his hand traced your soft, supple skin. “I want to breed you to make you mine forever.” 

His words sent chills down your spine as you shook like a leaf. You shook your head. “You can’t-”

“Don’t worry,” he purred once more, voice hungry and lusty, “I’ll make it feel good. I always do.” 

You were almost snapped out of your fear from the second half of his sentence but found it quickly returned when his teeth sunk into your neck. “Oh fuck!” You yelped, feeling the warm blood from your neck bead downwards to drape your collarbone and your nape. “What the hell was that for?” 

Jack didn’t immediately answer, only grinned and opened his mouth. A long, purple tongue slithered out and lapped at the teeth marks he’d left, a soft apology for drawing blood. “Mating mark,” he answered. “One of the many physical kinds I can give to you.” 

You kept your mouth shut as you felt his hands barely leave you to the belt of his pants. He undid it, and then slowly pumped his cock. Large, knotted, that was all you could see in the darkness only illuminated by the moonlight. So distracted by how girthy and large he was and the fact you KNEW he wouldn’t fit inside of you, a cry ripped free from your throat as his other hand effortlessly pried your legs apart. 

Jack’s clawed fingers easily moved down to your pussy, already wet from the budding anticipation. He cooed condescendingly. “Awh, and here I thought I would need to convince you even more.” His index and middle finger opened your lips up, and through the darkness, his sockets keyed in on your glistening pussy. “You were made for this, to please me, to be bred by me.” Slowly, he slid his index finger inside of you and watched through the darkness of your room as you bloomed for him. Heat painted your entire body, most notably your cheeks - Jack’s always had the ability to sort of ‘toggle’ thermal vision - and that’s where the heat was most notably concentrated. Well, that and definitely between your legs. Your pussy was burning for him. Needed to be filled, didn’t it? 

His index finger was soon joined by his middle, and he stretched you out as best as he could. “You feel so warm, kochanie,” he grinned. “So soft and sweet, and you smell just as good too. Maybe I should get a taste before I take you,” he thought aloud. 

Fearing retaliation, you hesitantly nodded. “Okay,” you squeaked like a deer caught in headlights. It didn’t help that your body seemed to call for him. Despite how much you knew this wasn’t good, your body squeezed around him. When his thumb circled your clit, you moaned softly, embarrassed that you showed him even a smidge of pleasure. He thumbed your clit some more and felt your hips buck up. 

And he laughed. Jack laughed. 

“See? I knew you couldn’t resist me.” After he fingered you a little bit more, enjoying the sounds of your soft moans and how you desperately tried to deny your true feelings towards him, he pulled his fingers out. “Do not pout,” he chuckled as he lifted his fingers to his lips. One of his tongues slithered out of his mouth once more before curling around his slick covered fingers. An obscene moan left his lips, and if he had eyes, you were sure that they would be rolling up. “Gods, you taste so good,” he praised. “So sugary and meaty,” he moaned again. “Perfectly made for me.” 

Jack mounted you this time, the head of his cock pressed against your tight lips as he watched you squirm underneath him. It was magical to see you buck your hips up like you could hardly resist him. “Open up, kochanie,” he cooed as he started to push his thick cock into you. He grinned when your nails dug into his uncovered forearms while your eyes widened. “Wrap your legs around me and breathe. Take me. Take me,” he whispered again and again, his hips pushing closer and closer to your body as his cock split you open. 

You did just that, legs wrapped tightly around his waist before moving your hands up to his back. Your nails dug into his hoodie while you pulled him tightly against you. Your heart rate skyrocketed as he pulled his hips back and then thrusted sharply forwards, the head of his cock hitting your cervix while not even fully hilted inside of you. His knot was thickly pressed against you, far too big for you to take, balls rested against your ass and heavy with cum. “Oh, oh my gods-” you wept as your body struggled to adjust to his size. He felt so big, every part of him. 

“Bloom for me,” he urged as he started to thrust his hips. His lips danced across your neck as he cock filled you with every thrust. “My sweet, sweet girl,” he praised, “look at you. How beautiful you are.” 

Your thighs were tense as he began to pick up the pace as you softly moaned for him, unable to deny any longer just how good Jack was making you feel. The tears that had welled in your eyes slipped down your cheeks but you unashamedly kept calling out for him. Your pussy felt so stretched open and still small as your slick gushed around him. You were soaking the bed from how good he stroked you. You arched your back slightly into his chest and tipped your head back to allow his lips to travel back up to your throat. You felt his teeth playfully move around where he’d already bitten you before softly biting you on the opposite side to mirror it. 

“You’re mine now, kochanie. Mine now forever.” The sounds of your moans were like music to his ears as he listened to your moans and how your body grew closer and closer to being knotted. He’d breed you, and then you’d have no choice but to be his for all eternity. 

[decapitatedrathead]

♡!SMUT HCs!♡

ft.Shuto Sendo

♡!A/N!♡: Have any of you read about Sendo? Like the fact he enjoys being pampered, that he sleeps with a belly warmer cause he's oh so sensitive to the cold, and he cries when people talk shit abt him?

He likes to be spoiled for fcks sake...

♡!TW!♡: smut!!!, idk kinks ig, I ain't writing all this shit sorry😭

I pulled this straight out of my ass, also sorry for grammar mistakes or anything that doesn't make sense, I'm a slavic gal and English ain't my first language!!<3

Minors do NOT interact!...please

Look, I'd say bottom, but Sendo has a massive ego and too much pride to sink that low

So personally, I think he's a pillow princess, but in aaaa dominant kinda wayyy?¿ (idk what to call it)

You know, get you to do all the work as he just sits back and watches

Definitely has a praise kink, that's like a given with his pride and ego (you're the one praising him)

During sex, he doesn't do shit, just....enjoys the show...

The best Sendo will do is a lazy throat fuck, and that's him being generous (also the throat fucks aren't exactly rough he's just pushing your head lower and lower, so yeah, lazy)

...he enjoyed nights like these..after a long day of practice when he could just lean back against the headboard, silently grunting as you bounced yourself up and down on his cock

He always lets you do your own thing, let it be grinding on his thigh when he's too tired to undress, or riding him justttt the way he likes it.. and truth be told?

But one thing he expects every time? He gets to finish... sometimes it's selfish, and he leaves you hanging, ruining your orgasm just as you're about to reach the peak and then... nothing...

Although he doesn't like working to receive pleasure, orgasm denial is also definitely on his list

It kinda like...gets him going? To see you all worked up when he suddenly shoves you off of him

Not that vocal, but like..really fucking whiny, dragging out every sentence when he feels good, or just generally whines like a toddler when you do something he doesn't like as much

Expects YOU to be handsy with him. He's very sensitive on the pulse points under his ears, so that's a no‐no cause he's also ticklish there

Eating you out? Forget it. He'll have to EXTRA generous to do that.

Favorite position? Cowgirl, no doubt. Although...

Once, when he came home to you after being away for a tad bit long....he got you into a mating press and the way he got hard all over again when he heard your pretty sounds..?

Mating press is like that one card up his sleeve he likes to pull when you fuck yourself dumb on his dick...as a little, shall we say, reward

Also, his dick? Pretty like him. That's all I have to say

In conclusion? He's a pillow princess and doesn't like moving a muscle in order to cum

But....why would he have to work, when he has such a pretty slut like yourself to do it for him?^'^

Please please please tell me if anyone did something like this? But I don't think anyone did?

~Posted July 11th 2024~

[yanderestarangel]

hey was wondering if you could do more desperate and whiney smoke scenarios ^^

tw: v!sex, ride, smut, ftm reader, whining, beg, daddykink, nsfw, dacryphilia, master x sub, overstimulation, handjob, afab anatomy, dom!reader.

Tomas stirs slightly in his sleep, a faint moan escaping his lips as he unconsciously responds to your touch. His body shifts, causing the bulge in his pants to become more prominent. You can't help but feel a surge of desire as you gaze at him. His muscular frame, the way he looks so vulnerable in his slumber, it's all incredibly enticing.

Vrbada's body responds, even in his sleep, his hips involuntarily grinding against your touch as his bulge grows larger and harder, his arousal evident even through the fabric of his pants. As you guide your hand towards his hard cock and take it out, Tomas gasps softly, his eyes widening with desire as you initiate the intimate contact, he moans into the kiss."-Mmm, I'm your good boy, your big, obedient, and eager boy." His lips molding against yours as his hands instinctively find their way to your body.

"-Please, Daddy...I need to feel your pussy on my cock. I've been waiting for this, craving you so much. Please, let me have you. I want to make you mine completely." -Tomas whimpers in frustration as you take your hand off his throbbing member. His eyes are filled with both lust and a hint of desperation as he gazes up ⸺ His lips part in a wordless gasp as he watches you, As you sink down onto him, the feeling of tightness and wetness enveloping his cock, Tomas groans deeply, his body instantly responding to the lust. "-Ahh, f-fuck... I love your pussy master," He moans, his voice husky with need.

"-Mmm, you feel so good, Daddy-" Smoke mumbles ."-You... you're all I want." The sight of your little pussy squeezing and milking his cock, combined with your praise, drives him insane, babbling and trembling beneath you, he watches intently as your breasts bounce with each thrust.

"-Fuck, you're so beautiful, Daddy... Fuck me more please..." The sounds of your wetness and his cries of pleasure fill the room. "-I can't... I can't hold back" He gasps, his voice strained with the effort to control himself.

"-Please... I want to come with you. Oh fuck- Can I... Can I c-come?" ⸺ but you didn't let him, Tomas looked beautiful begging and overstimulated like that, his blue eyes like the purest sea, were full of tears, while he grabbed your breast with his trembling lips, you denied his orgasm, knowing well that he would obey ⸺ Tomas whimpers in frustration and need as he tries to slow down his movements, his horny overwhelming him. But he is determined to obey your every command.

The Slavic ninja releases your breast with a soft pop, glancing up at you with a mix of stretching and stretching for release. His hips move in a slower, controlled rhythm, his throbbing cock sliding in and out of your wet, tight cunt. "-D-Daddy... it's so hard..." He moans, his voice filled with desperation ⸺ Tomas fights against his own craving for release, his body trembles with the effort, his senses heightened, as he strives to be the obedient and attentive lover you want.

"-I-I'm trying (Y/N)... " He whimpers as tears run down his cheeks, he is pulsing inside your pussy, totally needy. "-You... you feel so amazing... so tight..." his hips continue to move in a steady rhythm, but the strain is visible on his face. Smoke squeezes his eyes shut, fighting against the overwhelming need to climax, his body trembling with the effort ⸺ His muscles strain, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he fights against his imminent climax. The pleasure becomes almost unbearable, driving him to the orgasm. "-Daddy... please..." he pleads, his voice filled with vulnerability. "-May I come? I can't... I don't know if I can hold on any longer... P-please... I beg-"

Finally you give him permission to cum, With a loud cry of pleasure, he surrenders to his release, his hot cum filling your body. "-F-Fuck!-, Daddy...!" Tomas moans loudly, his voice filled with pure ecstasy ⸺ His hips buck uncontrollably as he empties himself inside you, his essence mingling with your own juices.

He collapses onto you, trembling with the intensity of his orgasm. His breath comes in ragged gasps as he nuzzles against your neck, his body still quivering with aftershocks.

"-Thank you for letting me... for allowing me to come..." He remains connected with you for a few moments, basking in the intimate closeness of the aftermath. Eventually, he withdraws gently, his softening cock slipping out of your wetness. He lies beside you, a contented smile gracing his lips.

"-We can go round two right?'"

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[rosenfey]

⊱ tagged by @dekarios, thank you fray! ♡

✦ last song: children of morrigan from the tainted grail: conquest ost!

✦ favourite colour: dusty pink but i am very partial to generally toned down and earthy colours (honorary mention to brown, red and white)

✦ currently watching: started m*a*s*h to see if it's as good as i remember or if it's one of those things that turn out to be crap once you watch them later (i really hope it's still good)

✦ last movie: the bean movie... it was very bad (i cried)

✦ sweet/spicy/savoury: savoury!

✦ current obsessions: eugh where to start.

tainted grail: fall of avalon. this game is everything to me. i love arthurian legends and folklore-inspired games and this game has both! the setting is so good and immersive it feels like i'm playing morrowind with better graphics. there are so many plot twists and i want to scream about them so bad. when this gets out of EA i will be feral.

reka: literally a game that feels like the devs opened my head and took out my brain and went "ok okay we have what we need" because it is exactly what i have wanted for years. slavic inspired, cozy and immersive world? individual maps that you are free to explore instead of open world? thank you. building a cozy cottage and decorating it? adopting cats, goats and chickens? im living here

nightingale: i played this when it first released in EA and was so disappointed my heart was broken. picked it up again yesterday because the devs have released an update that has basically rewritten and redesigned everything and now i cant stop playing. i love clockpunk and faeries with every fibre of my being and am extremely passionate over them. this has both. i need it to succeed so bad.

✦ last thing i googled: how to properly blanch asparagus. I'm gonna be making a chicken salad >:3c

⊱ tagging: [un]like this post to be added / removed.

@armorofhexes﹒@ladyinthebluebox﹒@thanekrios﹒@lavampira﹒@euryalex

@gurathins﹒@thefrostyshepard﹒@fashionablyfyrdraaca﹒@eluviane﹒@poelya

@lotusfaebell﹒@morgeth﹒@reapersynth﹒@theviridianbunny﹒@starforger

@florbelles﹒@luttare﹒@pawnguild﹒@archonfurina﹒@feykiller

@zahra-hydris﹒@noughtomaton﹒@corvus-rose﹒@ferwynter﹒@melancholicrainstorm

@sylvthara﹒@katsigian﹒@rindemption﹒@vilnan﹒@eldensrings

@claudiawolf﹒@therapyvibes﹒@sibeal﹒@epheyang﹒@anoramactir

@gallusneve﹒@lutebard﹒@nokstella﹒@greenecreek﹒@pavus

@gothimp

[valkyriegwynb]

Why the tale of Koschie (Koschie the Deathless) doea not support the three brothers and three sisters trope of what a lot of people are hoping for.

Koschie the Deathless comes from Slavic mythology, often known as Koschie the the Immortal. There are many tales of how Koschie is immortal and where his power comes from but what SJM pulls from his story that was inspired by Andrew Lang's ‘ The Red Fairy Book’ and Alexander Afanasyev's ‘ Russian Fairy Tales’ that both tell the story of Koschei the Deathless that circles around the life and love of Prince Ivan Tsarevitch. Following the death of his parents, Ivan saw his three sisters wed to three powerful kings or wizards that take on the form of birds of prey. Raven (darkness), Eagle (fire), and a Hawk (wind). Within a year, Ivan became lonely and even envious of his sisters for finding love while he remained alone. Soon, Ivan ventured off to find his sisters coming across Marya Morvena, a woman warrior, as they wed along their journey.

Soon after, Marya says that she is going off to war and warns Ivan not to open the door to the castle dungeon (or closet) in the castle they reside in while she is away. Overcome by the desire to know, he opens the door soon after her departure to find Koschie emaciated and chained. Koschie soon asks Ivan for some water, which Ivan does. After drinking twelve buckets of water, his magic returned to him, breaking free of his chains and disappearing. After Koschie disappeared, he soon found out that he had captured Marya and pursued him. When Ivan finally reached Koschie, he warns the man to let him go, but Ivan refuses, thus causing Koschie to kill him. Tossing parts of his body into barrels into the sea where his sister's husbands revived him. They tell Ivan that Ksochie has a magical horse and that he should go to Baba Yaga for one as well.

After surpassing and surviving her tests, Ivan gets a magical horse as well and kills Koschie. Burning his body and saving Marya.

But how does SJM tie this into Acotar? We know that throughout her books, the number 3 has been incredibly symbolic and representative in her series. Though for acotar, we have three sisters and three kings or in some stories, wizards: Highlord of Night, Heir of Day, and Prince of Bastards. Though in other variations of the myth, they turn into night, day, and wind. We have Rhysand, who is basically the personification of Night, Lucien, who is heir of the Day court, and Cassian as Illyrians are said to be created by the wind. And each of these males is mated to the three sisters. But who represents Ivan? Azriel. In the tale of Ivan, it tells of him not only being lonesome but also envious of something his sisters have: love.

Azriel is already on his journey of envy and loneliness that we've seen in his bonus chapter, but instead of going forth, he runs away finding Gwyn. In many variations of the tale, they tell of Marya as a warrior or a warrior princess at times, which leads to Gwyn. Not only is Gwyn a warrior - a valkyrie on top of that, but she could also be related to Beron as well. It was said that her grandmother was a water nymph who would seduce high fae males in the Autumn Court. It could've very well have been the start of his deep hatred for lesser fae as he was seduced by one and why her mother could not be contained in the Forest House. This theory supports Gwynriel and what is to come, but it also supports Elucien too. On different days, Ivan and his sisters were approached by birds of prey.

To support Elucien: Days follow days, hours chase hours; a whole year goes by. One day, Prince Ivan and his two sisters went out to stroll in the garden green. Again, there arose a storm cloud, with whirlwind and lightning. 'Let us go home, sisters!' cries the Prince. Scarcely had they entered the palace when the thunder crashed, the roof burst into a blaze, the ceiling split in twain, and in flew an eagle. The Eagle smote upon the ground and became a brave youth. 'Hail, Prince Ivan! Before I came as a guest, but now I have come as a wooer!' ​And he asked for the hand of the Princess Olga. Prince Ivan replied: 'If you find favor in the eyes of the Princess Olga, then let her marry you. I will not interfere with her liberty of choice.' Princess Olga gave her consent and married the Eagle. The Eagle took her and carried her off to his own kingdom.

As stated before in other variations of the story, the wizards represent the following: darkness, fire, and wind. In the section that was provided before, an eagle came to the three siblings in the garden as the roof burst into a blaze, and as the bird smote onto the ground, it became a brave youth We've known that Lucien is clever and witty, but he is also brave. He broke through the spell that Hybern had casted upon everyone to reach Elain, he was the first to acknowledge what she did when it came to defeating Hybern, did not doubt her vision when it came to Vassa and went searching for her where he also returned with the one person she adored the most: her father and an army of ships. If Lucien does take the title as Highlord of Day, his beast form would be part eagle.

To support Nessian: Hardly had they got into the palace, when the thunder pealed, the ceiling split open, and into the room where they were came flying a falcon bright. The Falcon smote upon the ground became a brave youth and said: 'Hail, Prince Ivan! Before I came as a guest, but now I have come as a wooer! I wish to propose for your sister, Princess Marya.' 'If you find favor in the eyes of my sister, I will not interfere with her wishes. Let her marry you in God's name!' The Princess Marya gave her consent; the Falcon married her and bore her away into his own realm.

To support Feysand: They returned home, but they hadn't had time to sit down when the thunder crashed, the ceiling split open, and in flew a raven. The Raven smote upon the floor and became a brave youth. The former youths had been handsome, but this one was handsomer still. 'Well, Prince Ivan! Before I came as a guest, but now I have come as a wooer! Give me the Princess Anna to wife.'

'I won't interfere with my sister's freedom. If you gain her affections, let her marry you.' So the Princess Anna married the Raven, and he bore her away into his own realm.

Princess Marya represents Nesta as she is the oldest of the three sisters, Princess Olga representing Elain as the middle sister, and Princess Anna representing Feyre as the youngest of the sisters to be wed.

[transmalewife]

so back in my overanalizing pretentious fuck days I vaguely remember wanting to write a meta about the madonna whore complex in star wars costume. and while I still think theres a lot to work with there,

(like, a lot)

I'm just gonna focus on padme right now, specifically Padme's hair because something really interesting just hit me.

look at this for a moment

this is the most virginal imagery imaginable.

let's get the obvious out of the way and say the blue dress and shawl are almost on the nose references to the virgin mary (maybe a hint at luke being the real chosen one?). But more importantly, in so many cultures around the world, loose long hair, especially combined with flowers, is associated with young girls. there are countless traditions that dictate that women, once they get married or come of age, should wear their hair up, covered or short.

(this might be a good moment to disclaimer that I am very transgendered and irreligious and none of this analysis is coming from a tradwife mindset. it's coming from a 'this is the archetypes that exist in our culture being very clearly and skillfully referenced here')

her dress is made to look like flowing water, carrying flowers. in slavic cultures, on the summer solstice, young women would make flower crowns and throw them into rivers, so potential suitors could fish them out downstream and court them. They would also wear flowers in their hair on their wedding day, and after that, they would cover it with a kerchief. and those traditions still live on in some form in europe today. most girls in my class got their hair cut short after first communion. women still throw bouquets on their wedding day.

There are in universe explanations I could invent here, from the easy 'this is just naboo funeral tradition' to the political "they wanted to distance her from the secret marriage to spare her family the shame of the scandal" but i'm frankly not about all that. and now that i've noticed this, I can't ignore it. all throughout rots padme is shown with her hair down (partialy. will come back to that), and wearing long gowns and hoods. The virgin mary imagery remains in the cut of the velvet hooded gown, in the blue drape of her nightgown when she cries on the balcony, and the, also baby blue, nightgown she wears when anakin has his nightmare literally looks like 1950s sexy lingerie.

(Also, a note here that I'm not willing to let spiral into a tangent, is that she almost always, and iirc, only, wears blue when she's either on tatooine, or when it's just her and Anakin. And then in her coffin.)

We know, from lucas, from the costume designer and art director, of two costumes that were purposely designed to make her look sexy, romantic, seductive. The corset in the fireplace scene and the iconic lake house balcony dress.

That makes sense. Those are the scenes where she's falling in love with Anakin, but the corset is extremely restrictive both visually, (and physically, according to natalie portman.) She's wearing metal bands around her head, the scarf looks like a noose and prison bars at the same time, and her hair is pinned up tighter and closer that in any other costume (except maybe on mustafar). She's not allowed the freedom to live in the fantasy of their forbidden love. She's imprisoned in the conventions of her station, quite literally trapped by her clothing.

And while the lake dress does look very free and loose and open, which is what she's tying to let herself be, flirty even, her hair is still quite literally behind bars, (and that type of headwear repeats in many of her costumes) as are her neck and arms.

Worth mentioning that in the floral picnic dress, her hair, while the shape is quite obviously meant to reference Leia's buns, is still held neatly in place by hairnets. This isn't the typical imagery of a young woman enjoying her freedom, frolicking in fields of flowers for the last time before she puts her hair up and grows up.

Padme didn't get to grow up, because she was never a child. In tpm her costumes are heavy, royal, extravagant. they not only hide her hair, but her face and body as well. Because she doesn't really matter. The costume, the crown, her duty matters more than the child underneath. There's quite literally six more of her. (Leia goes through something similar, in that she only ever gets to let her hair down after a battle is won)

Thinking of the costumes in tcw for too long makes my blood boil so i won't linger too long, but the moment Padme takes off her wig to reveal long flowing hair underneath, implying that the short bob she wore for much of the show is also a wig, is incredibly important here. This is a girl who finally got one thing for herself. She got her summer fling turned secret marriage, the first thing in her life that isn't controlled by appearances. and the mask is starting to slip. she wants the freedom, she wants the dreamlike lakeside romance back. she's wearing a middle aged mom wig over her childish waist long curls.

The traditional, deeply ingrained in so many cultures in the world narrative of young girl with flowers in her loose hair, then braids, then cut short and/or covered with a scarf is entirely flipped here. We're introduced to her when she's barely a teenager, but already wearing the elaborate, heavy headgear of a medieval queen. Even when she's "undercover" as a handmaiden on Tatooine, her hair is up in tight, elaborate braids.

There are a lot of obvious east asian influences in her royal costumes, bordering on appropriation in some cases (like, frankly, the entirety of star wars) which I would not feel comfortable ignoring, but don't have nearly enough knowledge about them to properly explore their meaning and symbolism.

In aotc, she's 24, she's no longer a queen, but even when she's trying to act and look young, her hair is still pinned tightly up. Her gowns on coruscant are still elaborate and restrictive, but we start seeing her in more intimate situations, at home on Naboo, by the lake. (And she spends a good chunk of the last two movies in her pajamas)

I had originally written "she can quite literally only let her hair down around anakin" here, but on second thought, no. Not really. In the scenes I was thinking of, the scenes she's in a nightgown, her hair is loose and long, yes, but always in a half up half down situation. Even in her simplest nightgown, in the first ever pajama scene, the one in her apartment in aotc, a basic white chemise, without any of the capes and tiaras and lace we see on her other sleepwear, her hair is still pinned up.

She's at her most vulnerable, sleeping, literally acting as bait for an assasin, without any of her senatorial regalia to protect her, but her hair remains controled. (I could say something here about that being the scene where Anakin barges into her bed waving his lightsaber, but lets just keep things tasteful and move on.)

In rots is where we first see her hair actually loose for the first time, though it's still covered by the hood of the velvet gown. Her costumes become simpler, less decorative, to create a cohesive image with the entire galaxy becoming more drab and colorless as the war goes on, heading towards the fully grey hellscape of the original trilogy. And we see padme specifically in more intimate, personal situations, most of her screentime is at her home. She's growing up into her housewife role, but for her that means freedom. For her that means letting her hair down and sinking into the fantasy of running away to Naboo with Anakin and raising their 2.5 kids. But the first, and only time we truly see her with her hair fully loose and uncovered, is at her funeral.

another thing unworthy of a whole tangent here, is that corde dies with her hair falling apart, out of her updo. All the senatorial power that the costumes and the headdresses afford dissolves in death.

I could note here also that this is a weird way to emphasize the tragedy of a 27 year old woman dying in childbirth by associating her with youth. this is tragic regardless. the tragedy here is she never got to have that stage of her life. she never got to grow up, to be a mother. She remains, in anakin's memories, the 14 year old angel, the 24 year old rolling in the grass like a teenager, or rushing alongside him into battle without fear, and the wife in her sexy nightie waiting for him to come back from the war. In the galaxy's eyes however, she will always have been the strong queen, and the tragic martyr, taken before her time. Not a child soldier and a woman who died because she broke the rules and dared to fall in love.

Padme never gets the freedom of childhood. She only gets to let her hair down in death. Did she want it? Is it Naboo releasing her from her responsibility posthumously, or is is another denial of her freedom. She was a ruler when she should have been a girl, and she dies a child when she was ready to grow up.

[flowerandblood]

That night, she cried aloud with her face pressed into her pillow, calling for her beloved, her kindest, cursing him and begging him to relieve her suffering, to prevent her from being given away to any other man, because they had promised each other that they would be together, now and for eternity. It was then that she heard him again − the quiet crackling and rustling outside her window, someone's footsteps so clear that her heart leapt into her throat. She pulled herself up from her bed and looked out of the window, pressing her palms against the glass. A pitiful, low sob escaped from her throat as she spotted a male figure disappearing deep into the dark woods. She got up quickly, putting a warm blanket over herself, and slipped out of her family home in only her nightgown, moving after the mysterious silhouette, wanting to shout for him to stop, fearing, however, that she would startle him. Seeing only the full moon and stars above her, she trudged through the tall shrubs, the needles of the pines and the sharp stones beneath her feet hurting her skin. She knew that in order to reach the cemetery she had to walk straight ahead, and despite her fear, her heart was filled with courage, because for him, for her beloved, she was willing to do anything.

Here is a fragment of my short story, edited by my husband, with an illustration created by me. It refers to Slavic beliefs about wraiths, and the main character believes that her prematurely deceased, beloved husband rose from the dead, longing for her as much as she does for him. In my publication, I will create a whole series of such tales, each telling the story of a different demon. 😌

[fsfghgee]

MY, YOUR, OUR WEAKNESS

Tomas x Bi-Han x Kuai Liang

~~~~~~~~~ฯ~~~~~~~~~~ฯ~~~~~~~~~~~ฯ~~~~~~~~~~ฯ~~

- She's gone.

- No! My mother can't be dead! She's too strong, powerful to…

- She's gone, Bi-Han!

- N-No… N-No, It can't be true…

- Bi-Han, son. You got to stay strong to…

- This is all your fault… - Moving away from his father's touch on his shoulder, the younger cryomancer froze the older one's feet before hurriedly walking away with watery eyes. - You let my mother die for this damn realm! 

- Bi-Han!

- Stay away from me! Never put your hands on me again!

Tomas was passing through the corridor towards the practice room of Xiaoqing, the Lin Kuei's Elder Arcanist, when he heard screams and soon saw Bi-Han running out of the Grandmaster's office.

Worried, he decided to follow the young cryomancer into the bedroom.

- Brother, are you…

- Don't call me that! - Said coldly, despite his voice shaking from crying. - Y-You don't have that right.

- B-But I thought…

- I only have one brother! - Bi-Han almost shouted before looking at the Slavic. - A-And his name is Kuai Liang.

Just turning towards the bed, without having time to reach it, his knees got weak and the cryomancer succumbed to the pain.

Tomas, feeling pity - and something else - squeezing his heart, knelt down too and hugged him tightly from behind.

- I know how you're feeling... - Unable to contain his own tears, the younger wet the cryomancer's shoulder. - I know how deep is the pain you are feeling right now. I've felt it too... - Bi-Han just cried, Tomas whispered close to his ear in the hope of comforting him. - And it also hurts me to lose my second mother. - And how it hurt... - But this will pass, you will...

- F-Forget my mother like you did yours? This will never happen! - Bi-Han let go of Tomas' arms with renewed strength. Standing up as if he were possessed, shaking with rage. - All those… - Tomas had never seen him with so much hatred in his eyes. - All those responsible for her death...

- Bi-Han…

- Will pay! E-Everyone…  Everyone will pay.

…..

- Bi-Han, I did it! I finally managed to master Typhokinesis! - Tomas was smiling from ear to ear. He had waited for hours – at the entrance of the Lin Kuei's fortress – for the return of his older brother just to tell him the news. - Father said I can join you and Kuai Liang on the next mission.

- What? - Bi-Han sounded almost outraged, cursing under his breath. - What is that old fool thinking?

- Bi-Han... - Tomas followed behind the older and colder one, still yearning for kind words and maybe his touch... - A-Are you proud of me?

He craved love, any display of affection, from the cryomancer.

- Why should I be? - Not even bothering to look at the younger one, he quickened his pace. Too angry at the possibility of having to take someone as weak as Tomas on a mission.

- B-Because we are brothers.

- I only have one brother.

- B-But father said that…

- He's a senile old fool! - In the way that always took Tomas' breath away and made him shake like a scared child again, Bi-Han looked him in the eyes and stated in a firm voice. - I don't care at all about the things he says. You and I are not equal!

….

- Father is dead.

- Dead? What do you mean dead? H-He can’t be…

- He's dead, Kuai Liang!

- H-How did this happen?! You were with him, Bi-Han! H-How come you don’t…

- I tried to save him! - Seeing his younger brother's deplorable state, he decided to lie coldly, hoping to alleviate his pain. - But I couldn't... - The pain in Kuai Liang and Tomas' eyes was visible despite the tears, a pain that Bi-Han didn't share. - Everything happened so fast. When I got there it was already too late.

Kuai Liang started panting from crying, collapsing on the floor crying compulsively.

Tomas could barely stand in the late cryomancer's office, just watching Kuai Liang fall apart and controlling the growing willingness to do the same. Before he took the first step to console Kuai Liang, Bi-Han knelt down in front of his younger brother and hugged him.

- He's gone. But our life goes on, brother. - Bi-Han said calmly, stroking Kuai Liang's hair and holding him tighter. - I'll always be here for you. I will always be by your side. - The young pyromancer just cried, returning his older brother's hug and succumbing to the pain that consumed him. - Everything will be fine.

Bi-Han noticed when the typhomancer ran out of the office, but his priority was in his arms and he would not leave his blood brother to comfort the orphan. 

Tomas was aware that for a long time Bi-Han only saw him as a burden and, not wanting to receive the older man's look of scepticism again, he ran to his own room and closed the door before throwing himself on the bed to burst into tears.

He couldn't believe that his father, Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, a man always so strong and powerful, could be dead.

- N-Not again. - He squeezed the pillow, already damp from crying. - N-Not a-again…

Unable to help it, his thoughts sailed through his deepest memories, returning to the pain he felt in his childhood when he lost his twin sister and biological mother, then the death of his adoptive mother who treated him like her own son until she died in combat when he was still a teenager…

Now another one, his father and Grandmaster, having just entered adulthood.

He could barely breathe and felt like he was going to pass out from so much pain and sadness.

"Why do I keep losing the ones I love?"

"Why?!"

- Tomas. - The youngest Lin Kuei sniffed deeply when he heard Bi-Han's voice followed by a few knocks on the door. - Tomas, are you okay?

"Am I?"

Tomas looked at the clock on the bedside table:

2:40 A.M.

"How can I be okay if 7 hours ago you said our father had died?"

- Tomas?

- I… I am.

- Good.

He left.

He didn't want to come in to see how I was...

He never hugged me...

He didn't look me in the eyes to see how much I lied and how much I needed him to hold me tight.

[callmebrutus]

everyone is so impressed by the lore cinematic and I'm all with you guys I almost cried

but russian huevitos just heard the fucking balalaika and the song from the kvas ad and CRACKED.

we're claiming qfit as slavic now

[inktailsaystuff]

Mordecai and Viktor Relationship Headcannons

TW: Murder, kneecapping, angst

Pre-Relationship Headcanons~

This was a very slow burn

Like the flame wasn't even there for yeeears

Mordecai is a very untrusting cat so it took him years to tolerate Viktor let alone trust him

When Mordecai realized he had feelings for Viktor he decided he would ignore them until they went away (they didn’t)

Viktor just had a very conflicting time falling in love again, lots of booze and staring at the ceiling later he accepts his fate

Neither are touchy

Neither wanted to admit feelings for each other

They both just kinda sat with their feelings hoping they would go away

Mitzi ended up picking up on their feelings

The whole speakeasy knew of their feelings but the two

After years of mutual trust building… Mordecai got drunk and spilled his heart out

Relationship Headcanons~

They are very awkward about the whole thing

Viktor is the only cat allowed to see drunk Mordecai

Drunk Mordecai will constantly ramble about how much he loves Viktor and so on

Once sober he will hide in his room from embarrassment

Viktor finds this amusing 

Mordecai is the only cat allowed to come up to Viktor on his blind side without getting murdered

They are very private so literally no one knew of their status as dating

Actually Zib managed to pick up on it, but its not his business so he doesn't care

No PDA 0 PDA both Mordecai and Viktor have a reputation to maintain and they don’t enjoy touches anyway

However occasionally after a bootlegging job they will intertwine tails with each other

First “kiss” was a spontaneous drunk Mordecai act of pecking Viktor’s cheek

Once he sobered up he didn’t show his face to Viktor for a week

One time after massacring a rival gang and both sitting in the car Viktor just took initiative and kissed Mordecai

Mordecai attempted and failed at hiding from Viktor by crawling into the backseat muttering about how he definitely did not enjoy that he enjoyed that

When arguing sometimes Viktor will switch to Slavic and Mordecai to Yiddish so neither will know what the other is yelling about

Viktor normally switches first and Mordecai switches out of pettiness

Viktor will sometimes cook for Mordecai keeping it kosher :>

Post-Kneecapping Headcanons~

Ah yes post-Atlas death time

Mordecai could barely pull the trigger and after he kneecapped Viktor ran away and cried

Vikor felt very betrayed and very backstabbed

Mordecai felt very guilty and very sad

In the Marigold gang he’s grouchier, and skinnier and far more tired (not that anyone can tell)

Viktor is colder, and talks less even to Ivy

A part of Viktor resents Mordecai

Mordecai sometimes wishes that Viktor would just find him and put a bullet in his head he thinks he deserves it

Mordecai is scared to sleep since he tends to dream about kneecapping Viktor and wakes up scared

Mordecai keeps a picture of Viktor in his breast pocket

Viktor has a picture of Mordecai in his nightstand drawer

Over all a very angsty and sad no longer couple

[lesbiantoaster]

Omg omg can I ask about your Nevermore Oc?? Like do you have more info to give about them?? :0

Hi!

It's rather embarrassing to admit but it's kinda a self-insert 😅 I was a little jealous of all the portraits the new mods were getting I wanted to make something for myself lmao (but I don't look half as good lol)

But I can give you some info.

Her name is Zuzanna (Zuza for short).

She's a lesbian.

She's young (in her mid 20s) Polish scientist when she died during a synchrotron experiment when she was changing the sample in the holder due to malfunction of safety systems and high energy beam shot right into her head. And because the story wasn't taking place in USSR - she just died (shout-out to everyone who knows which story I'm referencing).

She might seem cold and harsh at first (due to hers constatlt resting bitch face a.k.a. "polish smile" and sarcasm), but when you get to know her she's kind, gentle and extremely loyal to her friends. She's socially awkward but her brains and wits make up for it.

In her luggage there's a notebook with lab notes, Swiss army knife, sample mounting kit, can with grounded coffee beans and wallet that contains pictures of her closest ones. Each night at academy she looks at those pictures crying and apologising for leaving them (she feels extremely guilty for dying) and cries herself to sleep. She's passionate and determined student although she's really cautious about everyone around her.

Her spectre is Entropy embodied by human-shaped blurb of energy. It's a neutral spectre and her superpowers are: manipulation of energy (relocating or increasing of it), ability to poses any non-living object (but for finite amount of time before the object disintegrates) and last but not least immunity for any type of poison/intoxication (thanks to her Slavic heritage lmao).

That's all I have for now... But if you have any idea how to improve it please share it!

[ofdarklands]

23 - Sirin & Alkonost

The Sirin is usually portrayed wearing a crown or with a nimbus, with the body of an owl. Her voice is dangerous; men who heard her will forget everything on earth, follow her, and ultimately die. People would attempt to save themselves from her by shooting cannons, ringing bells and making other loud noises to scare the bird off. Sometimes the Sirin was seen as a metaphor for God's word going into the soul of a man, and sometimes as a metaphor of heretics tempting the weak.

The name of the Alkonost comes from the Greek demigoddess Alcyone, who was transformed by the gods into a kingfisher. Many Slavic folktales speak of the unforgettably powerful and seductive music that resonates from her mouth. In fact, it is said that when people hear these sounds, they are unable to feel happiness in the same way ever again. She lays her eggs on a beach, and then rolls them into the sea. When they hatch, a thunderstorm sets in and the sea becomes so rough that it becomes impossible to traverse.

The Alkonost and the Sirin are two sides of the same coin. Both are beautiful women with the bodies of birds and both have magical voices of unimaginable beauty. The Alkonost guards good fortune by day and the Sirin by night, and they live together in either the underworld or the island of Buyan. According to folk tales, at the morning of the Apple Feast of the Saviour day, the Sirin flies into the apple orchard and cries sadly. In the afternoon, the Alkonost flies to this place too, beginning to rejoice and laugh. The Alkonost brushes dew from her wings, granting healing powers to all fruits on the tree she is sitting on.

[vochka]

Appreciation... rant?

So it is Wednesday and in the past two years, this has become movie night. A beloved colleague became a friend and because we worked next to the cinema, we could go watch a movie after afternoon shifts. We did this just about every week, even though there was no transit to take us home by the time the movies ended so we'd have to walk home alone at night like absolute idiots. It was fun. I feel like a little kid ready to stomp my feet with that "but I don't wanna go home!" attitude every time we have to; I have no words to describe how much I enjoy this woman's company.

It is now Wednesday and I'm sulking at home because I suffered workplace injuries and we have to skip our little tradition for yet another week. No movie night tonight!

Instead, I reflect back on what we've seen already. It's a lot. I'm not picky so I let her choose whatever she wants to watch, which usually means I neither know the title of what we're watching nor what it's about until after I've seen it. Maybe even after-- I am dense.

What I do know is that there's never been a queer piece of media we've missed. This woman has, to my knowledge, had little interaction with gay people before me, but her immediate instinct has been to look for media that would be relatable for me to watch and I have sat and cried in that cinema more times than I can count. Partially, because of her.

Mostly because of her.

This is whom I befriended.

I live in a Slavic country. We're better about queer rights than many of our neighbors, but the people themselves are largely still uneducated, bigoted, and stuck in their ways. Not long ago there was an effigy of a gay couple and their child burned in the streets by a mob. It's ridiculous. Then there's her.

Not once has she asked invasive, probing, or judgemental questions to ridicule or mock, not once was there a comment about finding me the right partner, and not once has there been a hint of judgment in her eyes, even for things she directly said she didn't understand!

When she doesn't know something, she asks. When she heard I was trans, she took the initiative to ask for my preferred name and pronouns and made sure I knew I could speak to her if something made me uncomfortable. She made every effort to make sure I knew she was there if I needed someone to talk to, that she was a safe person to turn to, and that her doors were open if I had nowhere else to go.

I love her.

Fiercely and platonically, as a sister and as a friend, I love her to death. She has been such a solid rock in my life in the few years I've known her that I lament fate for not letting me meet her sooner. She's done more good for me in a handful of years than my family has in decades; I don't even know how to begin paying her back for the light she's brought into my life. She's an absolute ray of sunshine.

This, unfortunately, is too much to smother a normal person in so I can't bring that level of energy into a single conversation and instead get to rant? vent? yell my appreciation for her at internet strangers because the world deserves to hear she's amazing and she deserves to be loved by the entirety of it.