bleed the earth

My Spellbound Heart

I actually finished it! Soulmate AU for the first day of trope week @jilyfest

word count: 5.2k 

ffnet | ao3

“What kind of person could they be if our shared mark is a pair of antlers on my arse?” asks Lily, craning her neck to stare at the ink, stark against her pale skin. No matter how hard she glares at it, it remains there.

Behind her, Marlene snickers. “It’s not on your arse,” she says, barely managing to keep the laughter out of her voice, “It’s right above your arse.”

She directs her glare to the blonde who still had tear tracks down her cheek from the initial bout of laughter. “Because that makes things so much better,” she snaps, “Who the fuck thinks ‘hey a pair of antlers as a tramp stamp is great idea for a soulmark’?”

“Maybe it’s a symbol for something,” she says, winding a lock of hair around her finger before prodding the mark once more. Lily squawks and jumps away from her while the other girl just grins wickedly. “Maybe you’re soulmate likes it up-”

“If you don’t want me to cut off your tongue you’ll stop right there,” she warns. Lily glances back at the mirror, bemoaning the appearance of the mark. “If I ever meet this fucker I’m punching him in the dick.”

“Or the tit,” Marlene chirps, “Don’t let heteronormativity rule your life.”

“Shut up Marlene.”

-

Soulmarks weren’t rare, but they also weren’t exactly common. It was like a sunshower, a blue moon, a six petal flower on a four petal bush. Different, unexpected, but not rare.

It’s a topic tied into all their subjects; historians told the stories of those who shared the bond, the power they held when stood side by side, waging war and ruling men, the poets spoke about the special brand of intimacy shared only between lovers of the kind, a bond that ran deeper than anything else, while science tried to prove it with fact, a genetic anomaly, perhaps natural selection taking place, making it easier to find a desirable mate. For centuries they’ve been attempts to explain them- platonic, romantic and in between- but no one can ever agree and soon it just became a thing, accepted just like that.

(It falls in between questions of why do you taste like heartbreak and ash?how does a person manage to have galaxies in their eyes? what is that pain in my chest when you leave me?)

(There’re no answers and one answer. Love, the most dangerous thing of them all.)

They all learn about it, but learning and experiencing are two completely different things. They never tell you that you feel the pain of it appearing, like a million needles pressed into your skin at the same time, the place where it grows warm and irritated, and it leaves you feeling as though there’s a gaping wound in your chest for days.

They never tell you that remain hurting and raw, craving something that you never had in the first place. A kind of want that drives you mad.

It happened while she was in class, carrying out a chem lab with Marlene and the wave of pain hit so hard, so intense, that she dropped a beaker of sulphuric acid and felt like her spine was being cleaved in two, from the base up. She told a lie about cramps through clenched teeth, and Marlene helped her hobble out of class, almost collapsing on the cool bathroom tile as another wave of pain passes.

Keep reading

  • what she says: I'm fine.
  • what she means: they're kinda setting it up for Mr. Scratch to come after Emily and boi am I fuckin scared shitless. first he attacked Hotch, acting unit chief, and now that he's out of the picture I am straight up terrified, considering Emily, acting unit chief, has been super adversarial towards him. my fragile heart can't handle her being injured again someone protect my sweet bean from the writers, especially virgil williams, before I have a goddamn coronary.

anonymous asked:

I was wondering if someone could rec me some wlw young adult novels? Particularly books that dont focus 100% on the fact that its wlw (like a book that goes "and then she fell in love with a girl and debated her sinful feelings for 400 pages") because that doesnt really interest me. Something like a fantasy or an action/adventure that just happens to have a wlw protagonist would be perfect

Bleeding Earth by Kaitlin Ward 
The Abyss Surrounds Us by Emily Skrutskie 
The Mermaids of Erina Kwai series by Tiana Warner
The Witch Sea by Sarah Diemer
The Adaptation series by Malinda Lo 
Of Fire and Stars by Audrey Coulthurst
The Legend Mirror series by Saruuh Kelsey
happy reading :-) 
-byrne 

Writing prompts

1. “At least you weren’t stabbed, because hello, I am bleeding.”

2. “Why on earth are you wearing that?”

3. “Put me down!”

4. “Leave me the fuck alone”

5. “You’re drunk, but I am not.”

6. “I swear to god, look at me”

7. “What did you just do?!”

8. “Stop filming me, moron!”

9. “It was all me, by the way.”

10. “I may have mildly panicked…”

11. “You are actually really badass”

12. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

13. “Do you still love me…?”

14. “It’s do or die, most likely die.”

15. “How could you ever hurt me like that?”

16. “Can someone shoot him?”

17. “Who’s is the cute guy/girl over there?”

18. “I am sorry okay! What else you want me to say?”

19. “She’s/He’s injured?”

20. “In what fucking hospital is he/she?!”

21. “I don’t know about you guys, but I feel fabulous.”

22. “Can I help you?”

23. “Be gentle.”

24. “I love you”

25. “What happened to your arm?”

26. “I have a headache.”

27. “Seven fucking years, and that’s all you have to say!”

28. “Was loving me a joke?”

29. “5 more minutes.”

30. “Don’t be mad, but I bought a cat.”

31. “Like, what if I did love you?”

32. “You didn’t do the dishes, I’m not doing you.”

33. “I’m not drunk, I s-swear.”

34. “Help me pack or get out. You’re in the way.”

35. “How can you watch a scary movie without being scared?!”

36. “If you get arrested, I don’t know you.”

37. “So, I’ve been thinking.”

38. “I was supposed to die you dumb ass!” 

39. “You looked at me differently.”

40. “I’m not pregnant”

41.  “The stars are pretty tonight, aren’t they?”

42. “Oh c'mon you would have murdered that guy too.”

43. “I thought you were dead!” 

44. “You? You know how to shoot a gun?” 

45. “Hold up- just stop- just- what are you actually doing? It’s 2 AM!”

46. “You just kissed me.” 

47. “I’ve been in love with you since, like, forever. I thought you knew.”

48. “I literally told you.”

49. “Was the glitter really necessary?”

50. “You left me there. Alone.”

thevikingwoman  asked:

Farmer market Solas!! : Farmer market Solas shows up unexpectedly at Lavellans orchard

Thanks for the prompt, @thevikingwoman!

For @dadrunkwriting


Pomegranate

She’s finished tending to her orchard, and now finds herself standing in front of the six pomegranate shrubs that stands at that one lonely edge of her fields.

Persephone was given six pomegranate seeds, she thinks.

But she is no Persephone, and there is no Hades. 

Not now, anyway.

The small trees are laden with fruit, ripe, their skins almost glistening in the sunlight. She wants to reach out and pluck one, rip it open in her hands, and feel the blood red juice stain her hands.

It is what he would have deserved, the man who gave her this shrub, whose fruit leaks juice the color of the innocence he stole from her.

“So, pomegranates are the way to garner your interest,” a familiar voice quips, and she turns around, startled.

“Solas!” she exclaims. What is he doing here? How long had he been watching her? “What… what are you doing here?”

“As I recall, you did invite me to visit you. At anytime, is what I believe you said. Would you rather I come at another time? I do not wish to impose,” his brows are furrowed, as though he is worried about his presence being a nuisance.

“Oh, not at all,” she smiles, but it is a small one, for she is still lost in the shadows of her past. “I was just… preoccupied, that’s all.”

“So I gather,” he smiles easily now. “Good memories, I hope?”

She turns back to the trees.The leaves rustle agitatedly in the light breeze, and the longer she stares at them, the more they begin to resemble limbs flailing and fighting, thrashing but unable to break free. She remembers the bed, its softness a stark, cruel contrast to the hardness and edges of the man above her; can almost feel the sharp metallic taste of blood in the back of her throat.

“Neria?” his voice is filled with concern.

She forces herself to turn away from it. “I’m sorry,” she says through clenched teeth. “Just… bad memories. I’ll get over it soon enough.” She forces a smile for him. “Shall we go into the house? I have some of those apples you so enjoy.”

He isn’t fooled. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently, and that almost breaks her.

Would I have met you then, she sighs to herself.

“It’s okay,” that stiff smile again. “It’s, uhhh… not very pleasant, and I would not want to burden you with it. Thank you for asking, though. It means a lot.”

“Neria.” His voice is soft, comforting, yet has a thread of command laced through it. “Come, sit with me.” She counts his steps distractedly as he walks towards one small tree, and proceeds to sit in the shade it offers. He pats the ground next to him, inviting her to join him.

He looks so kind, his pale face turned golden by the warmth of the sun, his eyes bluer than the cloudless skies above her. She wants his touch, wants him to blot out the darkness that the fruits hold within them.

She sits next to him, tentatively at first, but her fears are put to rest when he pulls her to him. His back is resting against the bark, and she slumps down so her head lies on his chest. The beating of his heart is soothing; it is a melody she will never tire of.

“Now,” he murmurs into her hair, “talk to me, vhenan.”

Her heart stutters, skips a beat. It is the first time he has called her that. She rears back, staring into his eyes, searching for the lie she’s sure is there, because how can someone like him have feelings for someone like her? He is famous, world-renowned, and she… she is but a simple fruit farmer.

“Do you mean that?” she whispers, holding her breath, not wanting to hope but unable to stop herself from doing so.

He smiles, crooked, unsure, and nods. “I do. You have my heart, Neria.”

Happiness bubbles, boils over, floods her. “I love you,” she slants her mouth over his, trying to share the joy she feels with him. When she pulls away, he is the most relaxed she has ever seen him; he is carefree, peaceful, and his eyes are so open she feels as though she has been afforded a window to his very soul.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, serious.

“Of course,” she kisses his cheek.

“Will you tell me what disturbs you, then?”

She hesitates, trying to gather her thoughts, then begins. She tells him of the boy of her childhood, one she called friend; how they grew up together. How, one fateful night fueled by alcohol, he pinned her down and took her maidenhead, and the way he threatened her into silence. She tells him of the pomegranate trees he ‘gifted’ to her as reward, how she wanted to destroy them but could not bring herself to, for she was a poor farmer then, and could not afford to spurn them.

“So I kept them,” she says dully, “and each time I look at them, I am reminded of him.”

“Why do you not cut them down, then?” he asks.

She shrugs. “The fruit is in great demand. A single crop earns me more money than an entire season’s worth of apples. I… well, I have bills to pay.”

He is silent, and she fears he now sees her in a different light. It is something she is familiar with; once she speaks of her past, she is viewed as damaged goods. 

She braces herself for his rejection.

“I am so sorry something so terrible happened to you, vhenan,” he wraps his arms around her tightly, holding her as though he will never let her go. “You deserve more, so much more.” His hands move up to cradle her face. “I cannot change the past,” he murmurs against her lips, “but I can give you better memories.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, rapidly becoming breathless as his hands slip beneath the old, threadbare tshirt she’s wearing.

But his lips capture hers, and his kiss is soft, gentle, the brush of a butterfly’s wings against skin, and she sighs. Even when he parts her lips, his tongue seeking hers, he is light, almost restrained. His hands slide to her back, stroking the dip of her spine before moving up and undoing the clasp of her brassiere. The whimper she makes as his thumbs brush across her nipples would make anyone blush, but she cannot bring herself to be silent. 

He rolls into and leans over her, pushing her slowly into the lush green grass. She thinks of the many pebbles and twigs hidden away between the blades, but it is as though her orchard is repaying the kindness she shows it, and there is nothing but softness under her back, the scent of the earth, loamy and heady, and oh when did he pull her shirt off, and creators his mouth, his wicked mouth is on her breasts now, suckling eagerly at one as his fingers tease its twin, and she needs some friction, any friction, and her hips rise off the ground seeking it, and his thigh is between her legs now, and oh it’s glorious.

His mouth goes lower now, tongue dipping into her belly button and making her giggle and squirm, before reaching the waist of her shorts, and he’s a magician, pulling it and her panties down in one fluid motion, before he settles his face between her legs. What is he doing, she panics for a second, moving to sit up, but he merely looks at her and smiles, an unspoken request to trust him, and oh, she does, she does, so she settles back against the trunk of the tree, cheeks bright red as she watches his tongue slide up her wet folds, and then she cannot think because it’s too much, each pass of his tongue makes her keen, and each time he grazes his teeth - lightly - against her clit she bucks her hips, wanting more, the ache in her core almost unbearable, and she’s begging and pleading and praying to him because she needs something, anything to fill her, she’s close, so very close, she needs just that little bit…

… and then his fingers enter her sopping cunt, first one, then a second, and the third is almost too much, but then he starts to pump them now, her hips pinned under the weight of his arm, and the pomegranates fall from the tree and shatter around them, bleeding their juices into the earth, their sweet fragrance blended with the scent of the crushed grass beneath them; her head is thrown back, eyes staring unseeingly into a sky brushed with pink and orange and purple, and it’s beautiful but the beauty of the sunset pales to that of the man whose mouth is on the very core of her, and he’s determined to banish the shadows she has, for he stops before she reaches her peak, and even as she whines her complaint he reaches for the broken fruit, plucking out the fleshy seeds from within. She watches, half-dazed, as he counts them out - one, two, three, four, five, six - and slides them between her kiss-swollen lips, sealing her mouth shut with a kiss, before he returns to his task…

… and soon, far too soon, he has her at the crest of the peak again, his fingers buried deep in her, his tongue wrapped around her engorged clit, and then he crooks his fingers just so and bites down gently, and everything whites out, there’s only pleasure, and the scent of him, and the taste of the pomegranate on her tongue, and it’s too much, too much, too much, and she’s still shuddering even as she comes down from the high, trembling against his chest as he rubs her back soothingly.

It is a while before she can speak again. “Six seeds, huh?” her voice is rough, but it carries the humor she feels. “A fan of Greek mythology, I see.”

“No,” his eyes are somber, and she wonders why. He brings his hand up to her eye level, his fingers closed into a fist, and then he opens them to reveal six more seeds. “I will have you for all the year, my heart,” he smiles, and she cannot help but slide deeper into love.

She eats the seeds, willingly.

Persephone was given six pomegranate seeds, she thinks, heart light and filled with love and joy as his fingers run down her body once again, but I was given twelve, and they were perfect.

Why I love Shakespeare (and why you should too)

Have you ever read Shakespeare and thought, “This is stupid.  I don’t understand a word of this”? 

Hey, me too! The first work of Shakespeare I ever read was Romeo and Juliet as a freshman in high school, and I remember thinking, I know this is a classic story and all, but why do people think this is so good?  A couple of teenagers fall so madly in love in a matter of days that they make a bunch of stupid decisions that gets themselves and a few other people killed.  

Wow.  We should probably market this as the greatest love story of all time.  

I just didn’t get it.

Within the next few years I read Julius Caesar, which definitely impressed me more, and then I read Hamlet, which I legitimately enjoyed, but there was still something missing.  I’d come to appreciate Shakespeare, but I just couldn't love Shakespeare.  

And then something happened that made all that change.  Something that changed my outlook on everything I’ve ever heard about Shakespeare’s plays.

I saw one performed.  

I know, I know, revolutionary, right?  I saw a freaking play.  But here’s why it was so amazing for me.

To preface, I read the play beforehand, and wasn’t impressed.  The play I’m talking about is Comedy of Errors, which I’d actually never heard of before reading it.  It’s one of Shakespeare’s earlier works.  It’s a comedy about identical twins who happen to have identical twin servants who get separated basically at birth.  They take the same name, as do the servants who have been with them since birth, so you end up with two guys names Antipholus with two servants named Dromio.  They come to the same town (now adults) and everybody gets everybody else mixed up.  

Upon reading the play, I chuckled maybe a couple times, but it wasn’t all that funny.  Then I went and saw it, and it’s probably the second funniest play I’ve seen in my entire life.  I laughed so hard.  The whole thing was hilarious.  

And it was in that moment, walking out of the Globe theatre after my first Shakespeare production, that I started to love it.  

An epiphany of understanding: Think of it this way.  Imagine your favorite book.  A book that makes you laugh and cry and want to be a better person.  A book that inspires you.  Now imagine the sparknotes version of that book.  Raw, basic plot with none of the flourishes and nuances that make that book what it is.  Sparknotes will tell you what happens, but that’s it.  

If you read Sparknotes, would that still be your favorite book?  Probably not.  Mostly because it wouldn’t mean anything to you.  

Reading a Shakespeare play is like reading the Sparknotes version of a book.You get dialogue.  That’s it.  The bare basics with nothing that makes it truly incredible.  

No wonder so many people hate Shakespeare!  They have no idea what Shakespeare even is!

A few weeks after my wonderful first encounter, I returned to the Globe to see Julius Caesar.  Remember how I’ve read this one before?  I liked it before.  But just wait.  

I stand in the Globe as a groundling, just as a working class citizen would have in Shakespeare’s day.  Midway through the play, I lean against the stage in the front row and watch the fake blood flow as Caesar is stabbed again and again.  The conspirators, soaked to their elbows in blood, threaten Mark Antony, a supporter of Caesar’s who has walked in to see their heinous  act.  Antony claims to mean them no harm, and they leave him for a moment alone with Caesar, who lies dead in a pool of crimson.  The murderers exit, and Mark Antony stands alone on the stage.  He stumbles to Caesar’s body, falls to his knees, and weeps.  

“O pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth,” Antony whispers through his tears to Caesar, “that I am meek and gentle with these butchers.  Thou art the ruins of the noblest man that ever lived in the tide of times.”

He raises his hands upward to heaven, now dripping with Caesar’s blood, his face streaked with tears. “Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood!”  His voice echoes across the hundreds of silent people who suddenly feel as if they have intruded on this grieved and pained man as he weeps over his dead friend.  

A tear slides from my own eye.  

No longer words on a page, Shakespeare is alive.  The words are no longer ancient and out-of-date, but natural and beautiful.  

Shakespeare was not of an age, but for all time, as Ben Jonson said.  

I love Shakespeare.  I love Shakespeare.  Not because I’ve read most of his plays, which I haven’t.  Not because I’ve seen many of his plays, because I haven’t.  

I love Shakespeare because I’ve seen the plays come to life on stage in the way they were meant to.  Plays are meant to be seen, not read.  

So don’t hate Shakespeare because you don’t understand it.  Stop reading and start watching.  Maybe you’ll fall in love, too.  

everygoodusernameistakenugh  asked:

Do you have any good post-apocalyptic reads?

Yes! Well, some are kinda mid-Apocalyptic, but I imagine that counts ;) Check out Love in the Time of Global Warming by Francesca Lia Block, Bleeding Earth by Kaitlin Ward, Signal Boost by Alyssa Cole, and After Midnight by Santino Hassell.

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LGBTQIA+ Books

Since this post that Janel and I made, a few of you have sent me recommendations for LGBTQIA+ books so I thought I would make a kind of always growing list for people. (In bold are the books I have personally read and can give you details on if you message me). The list is sooooo long, which makes me super happy, and please make sure to message me if I am missing one you love! Also, currently working on adding Goodreads links and genre to all of these to make things easier.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

after alex accidentally hits lexa in the nose, i imagine there's just a moment where there's silence as clarke and alex are both making the same face like "oh no mama is bleeding :0" and then lexa starts laughing (getting hit in the nose hurt but it was also kinda funny) and clarke starts laughing. but then alex starts crying bc she hurt her mama and then they have to comfort her with kisses

Dude omg Lexa ends up feeling terrible because Alex is sobbing and shaking her head and hiding because she made one of her favorite people on earth bleed and she thinks she’s a monster and she’s Lextra about it and Lexa is trying to convince her it’s perfectly okay and accidents happen but Alex has this existential crisis at 3

meowcakezgod  asked:

You said WhisperedFaith and EverymanHYBRID are completely different universes. But, Stan Frederick crossovered/mentioned your series, as he was trying to contact Lee to ask about the Rake/Speaker(I think?). Since Stan also crossovered with TribeTwelve which crossovered heavily with EverymanHYBRID, isn't WhisperedFaith in the same universe because of this?

You forget that I also crossed over with Tribe Twelve. IMO that doesn’t matter.

The Slenderverse is something that I view more as a multiverse with weak dimensional barriers rather than just one contained universe. Several different earths bleeding into one another thanks to the meddling of abstract entities. That’s why characters can interact with one another while the entities that they battle operate in drastically different ways (I.E. The Speaker being an entirely different entity with different motivations than EMH’s Rake)

Mind you you’re more than welcome to not look at it that way, that’s just the way I view it.

sunnysteampunk  asked:

Hi! I don't know if it had been asked before or if it even exist but.. All the dystopian novels you know with lgbt+ characters in? Please?

Oh, they definitely exist! In YA, check out Lizard Radio by Pat Schmatz (non-binary MC), The Scorpion Rules by Erin Bow (bisexual female MC), Coda by Emma Trevayne (bisexual male MC), and The Culling by Steven Dos Santos. To go a little older, pick up Chameleon Moon by RoAnna Sylver, which is kind of a Dystopian/SFF mashup.

I know Dystopian and (Post-)Apocalyptic often have crossover audiences, so you might also wanna check out Bleeding Earth by Kaitlin Ward (lesbian MC) and Love in the TIme of Global Warming by Francesca Lia Block (bi MC, trans LI, gay secondaries) in YA, and Signal Boost by Alyssa Cole and After Midnight by Santino Hassell in m/m Romance! You might also find something by browsing this Goodreads list of Gay Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopic reads: https://www.goodreads.com/list/show/20630.Gay_Post_Apocalyptic_Dystopic#12617286

anonymous asked:

Hey! I saw your post about f/f couples in books not getting recognition. Could you recommend some good f/f books? I've been looking for some!

Hi! Thanks for the ask

Also the post was about that and also not just recognition like yeah I guess that’s it but fandom itself? Like people go on & on about how “great” all these books and how much they love them but then….where’s all the fanart & headcanons & meta? Why don’t people ever EVER get emotionally invested the same way they do when it’s a m/m couple? Like why doesn’t “fandom” exist for f/f books. It’s just….tiring

Anyways you didn’t really ask for that, but I never pass up on opportunity to rant.

Okay, here are some of my favourites (in no particular order)!

The Abyss Surrounds Us Duology by Emily Skrutskie

The Flywheel by Erin Gough

Far From You by Tess Sharpe

Dare Me by Megan Abbott

And also? Just about any Nina LaCour, Malinda Lo, or Sara Farizan book.

But also You Know Me Well (co-authored by David Levithan) is a hilarious & light-hearted read.  I was grinning the entire time I read it.

Also, here’s some other books that I would highly recommend - I haven’t gotten round to these yet but I know a lot of people have & loved them:

Black Iris by Leah Raeder (Contemporary)

The Scorpion Rules by Erin Bow (Fantasy)

Crush by S.R Silcox (Contemporary)

After The Fall by Robin Summers (Post-Apocalyptic)

Marriage of a Thousand Lies by S.J. Sindu (Contemporary)

The Salt Roads by Nalo Hopkinson (Historical Fiction)

The Seafarer’s Kiss by Julie Ember (Mythological Retelling)

Bleeding Earth by Kaitlin Ward (Horror)

Spellbook of the Lost & Found by Moïra Fowley-Doyle (Magic Realism)

Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters (Historical Fiction)

The Warrior’s Path by Catherine M. Wilson (Fantasy)

Her Name In The Sky by Kelly Quindlen (Contemporary)

Marian by Ella Lyons (Robin Hood Retelling)

Not Your Sidekick by C.B. Lee (Superheroes!)

A Darkly Beating Heart by Lindsay Smith (Sci-fi/Time Travel)

Waking up Gray by R.E. Bradshaw (Contemporary)

Moon At Nine by Deborah Ellis (Historical Fiction)

Mermaid In Chelsea Creek by Michelle Tea (Magical Realism)

The Last Nude by Ellis Avery (Historical Fiction)

Look, this list is in no way exhaustive. There’s a lot more wlw books I’ve read that I could list, and I could come up with twice or three times as many books to add to that latter list as well. The problem isn’t that there aren’t any wlw books. It’s that there’s no engagement or interest in them in any similar capacity to the way there are for m/m books.

This isn’t me trying to attack you, I really genuinely do appreciate your interest. There are a lot of good books in there to sift through and I hope it helps. I’m just very….frustrated.

It’s just something to keep in mind. Lack of fandom does not equal lack of wlw books. At all. And maybe think about why that is.

Do the planets ever feel, anything?
Mercury sweats in vicious, melting tempers.
Venus wilts in feverish desperation.
Earth bleeds for her people when they beat her.
Mars’ upper lip trembles but remains silent.
Jupiter puts up a fight, and loses to her bruises.
Saturn screams into the coldness of the void and nobody listens.
Uranus weeps until she is frozen, and doomed.
Neptune cries with the force of a thousand crashing waves.
Pluto waits, lingering, yearning, alone.
—  T.B. // Holst on a Saturday Morning
Three in the morning

Maria x Reader

may we have some more reader x female characters? maybe one where reader goes to a club with one of the schuyler sisters and has to be carried home, totally trashed. or where maria reynolds appears at reader’s door, injured and sobbing, and reader comforts her and lets her stay with them. i’m just so gay and the entire hamilton cast has me weak


“Who the hell is at my door at three in the morning instead of sleeping?” you yawned at you went to answer your door.

Shuffling through the dark you made it to your front hallway to the door, opening it slowly and peered out.

The sight in front of you was awful.

Your best friend was standing in front of you, crying and bleeding.

“Maria! What on earth happened to you!” you cried, ushering her into your apartment.

“James… drunk… he started swinging at me,” she cried.

You frowned. That stupid no good boyfriend of hers was trash and you were afraid that something like this was going to happen.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” you replied, ushering her into the bathroom. You grabbed your first aid kit and got to work.

“I was trying to break up with him, I was tired of it all. I love someone else, I didn’t want to be with him anymore. But he got upset, and then,”

“Shh. It’s okay, you don’t need to speak right now if you don’t want to. But if you do I’m here, just remember that.”

“Thank you Y/N. It means a lot to me.”

You smiled and nodded, putting the first aid kit away and helping Maria into some fresh clothes.

“You can sleep in my bed tonight,” you told her, tucking her into your bed and moving to leave the room.

She reached out and grabbed your arm, her eyes desperate.

“Please don’t leave me. Please.”

You nodded and climbed into the bed next to her.

“I’m here Maria. I’m here.”

About Marta

My friend @assorted-alvin told me something about Marta that I finally encountered. Basically, if she catches you, she does once or twice say this line: “Your blood shall be the tokens of my virginity.” 

Now, there are some ways to interpret this. One sad way is that Marta is not a virgin. She may have been coerced to have sex with Knoth when she was younger. After all he calls her an “intimate” companion since childhood. The loss of one virginity does not signify the loss of the virginity of the spirit, flesh and soul. Marta has reservations on killing people. This is specified by the second letter where Knoth chastises her using rhetoric to show her that her conscience for committing murder is actually sloth (however, I find it interesting that Knoth does not say anytime anything that Marta does is “womanly” considering he was pretty stupid calling Laird possessing “womanly sin”). So, to remain pure in the eyes of “god” Marta, almost in a olden ritualistic way, is offering Blake’s blood in a chalice to show that she is still a virgin: Immaculate in body, soul and spirit. After all, in their gospels they refer to Cain as “uncircumcised” of heart” which pretty much means impure, unclean and completely filthy. 

A second way to interpret this is to show that Marta is a virgin in every single way. That she has not have sex with anyone. And the only way to prove her virginity then, without the act of consummation, would still be this ancient ritualistic way of offering the blood of a human sacrifice. The reference to “intimate” companion may just refer to being a close friend. Now, it is true Knoth has the incorrigible habits of a philanderer. Unused dialogues also show that he may have had sex with Val who either is an intersex individual or an eunuch. Also the word catamite is exactly that, a young “male” kept for sexual pleasures. If Val was seen as a male, though they are not really, it still would make sense. However, there is also a large possibility that Knoth didn’t or couldn’t have sex with everyone. If you see his size, his gait — this old man has trouble even walking and pretty much walks with a limp, with slow wobbling steps. The truth is that Knoth also suffers from syphilis perhaps other diseases so it could hurt his performance heavily. There could be some people he didn’t have sex with. Seeing also that Marta, Val, Laird and Nick have no yokemates or sexual partners we know of (though wonder how the latter got Syphilis; it can happen via other ways or they did once have sex), we should take them a bit away from the norm. Of course, Val is not straight and has proven that multiple times. They have interest in almost everyone including Blake and a woman named Ruth. 

Seeing that Marta has a large size and strength may have made a patriarchal, incestuous cult generally afraid of her to engage in any form of sex with fear of having themselves being cut down or castrated. Knoth may have also find it beneficial to not sleep with Marta . Rather given her height and weight, may have been given the role of sentinel from a young age. And this would provide use to Temple Gate. Seeing that Laird also uses Nick, a pretty much tall fellow if not taller than Marta, to keep the Scalled in check and is encouraged by Knoth to use violence this logic makes sense. People of the cult avoid Marta like the plague. She  even states: “I will thy plague and thy ransom.” So, she seems to feel that she is a colossal figure that acts as a “disinfectant”, as a “bandage to the wound” to people who stray. She sometimes states to Blake, upon catching him: “The stray sheep must be corrected” and “You play the whore in my father’s house.”  Basically, being the person to uphold the crooked sense of justice in Temple Gate.

Additionally, Marta pretty much rhymes a lot of what she says. Aside that, later on you can hear about infants being dashed to bits and counting the enemies of “god” as her own enemies: those who rise against “god” (not knowing her “god” is actually Murkoff. Satan inimical Deus indeed). If you don’t rush towards the first encounter and wait, you can hear what she talks about, more or less, and see that they are like rhyming couplets: 

  1. In the Book of Life of The Lamb Slain.
  2. A Blade’s baptism for the Spider Eyed Lamb.”
  3. By the crooked knife, Legion fettered every man chained.” 
  4. Every man that hath a ear, so he may leadeth in captivity.” 
  5. Bleeds false heaven’s fear, beast seeds the cracked city.”
  6. From seas heaven borne lion dragon leopard.” 
  7. Blasphemous seven horns of the mustard scion shepherd.”
  8. Here is the patience, and the faith of the saints.” 
  9. The Lamb slain, foundation of the world.”
  10. And the pain found stained by the nation of the sword.”
  11. Deceiveth them that dwell on the earth.”
  12. Bleed the wench before hell after birth.” 
  13. Earthquakes flames thunder.”
  14. Lake carrion, flayed woman, graves under Savior’s wedding supper.”
  15. He hath judged the great whore. Writ: Blood, Abram’s worship.” 
  16. That ye may eat the flesh of kings, mighty men and horses.” 
  17. Fore death, and the righteous sing rightly there before him.”
  18. Temple Gate cuts the whore, bleed a price, the true ascend.” 
  19. The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you all amen.” 

These are not completely in chronological order and the “4th” one I had to jot down from memory. You can actually see the rhymes and the internal rhymes of these sayings. It also helps build some foundation on Temple Gate’s religion which definitely borrows Christian imagery and some Abrahamic imagery but also reverses them or “perverts” them in a way. The cult is not Christian as it does not respect Christianity or Christian beliefs on any kind, though it would like to believe it is Christian. I am no expert in Christian imagery but I could tell some things were off because we players are meant to see some of those discrepancies without being experts. Why should there be chaos during the savior’s supper? Armageddon is not a wedding feast. Similarly, there is lamb and lion and dragon imageries in Christianity. However, there is no spider-eyed Lamb that I know of.

(There are is a video of Marta’s dialogues. Some of her lines are songs. Personally, it is great the way final game had her just raspily quoting Ezekiel gospel quotes rather just sing. But here is the link if you are interested hearting the Marta dialogues:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XMQnl9sUHRg)

If we look at the well known William Blake’s imagery from Songs of Innocence and Songs of Experience (wonder if Blake is also an allusion to those things) you will see that Blake talks fondly of the Lamb and that the Tiger burning bright in the night. Blake is in awe of God because he has made the Lamb and he also made the Tiger. William Blake writes:

“Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?“

So, you can see that Blake likes the Tiger as well and uses it as a symbol to understand God. In that case, there is no need for God to make “spider-eyed lambs” when God has made the Tiger, and as Marta says, Lion, dragon and leopard. The dragon is traditionally I think an antagonistic figure in Christianity. So, Marta may be saying aside Temple Gate the world bears them though she also says slaying the Lamb built the foundation of the world. She also states of becoming this entity that eats the flesh of kings, mighty men and horses: this may be figurative but Laird doesn’t take this figuratively. 

Their “religion” is mostly based on bloodshed and the “whore who bears the antichrist” though I don’t think Christianity bases itself on any of these things. Obviously, The Testament of New Ezekiel uses Christian imagery but at the same time it does not follow any true Christian or Abrahamic tenets. The belief that there is a “whore” harbouring the antichrist born from Knoth and Knoth;s flock is also pretty non-viable. Knoth’s flock may have children with disabilities because of the fact they are inbreeding and incestuos like anything. It doesn’t mean the antichrist in any way. 

Marta herself shows some aspects of her beliefs when saying these lines and when she is killing people. She pretty much believes there is whore around and Temple Gate must “bleed a price” for the true to “ascend.” Though, she has her doubts. After all she doesn’t seem to believe in “righteous violence.” Yet, she plays the part of the sentinel because her society has no other place for her than to be that. She is too large and strong so perhaps no one wants her as a yokemate. We do not if she mothered any children or took care of them as Val. The only thing her society does is to make her the hound and avenging angel and she has become codependent on Knoth and that society (who wouldn’t, indoctrinated by The Towers and all of that) that gaining another form of freedom may not easily cross her mind. 

anonymous asked:

Hi, could you possibly write some regan fluff? I was thinking one where negan gets hurt by a bullet, and rick immediately moves to take care of him, constantly saying things like, "how could you be so stupid?" And, "Why do you put me through this". And maybe negan uses him being hurt as an excuse to get rick to cuddle him? Sorry if this is too much..!

The crazy thing about being hit by a bullet is how long it takes to realize you’ve been hit by a bullet. The adrenaline takes over and the second you’re laying with your back on the ground and your body sends your brain the signal, you’re like. oh shit am I dying? It’s a little helpless being knocked off your feet, shivering and shaking like some kind of frightened crack addict. The blood is spreading, and it takes a hell of a lot longer for you to realize that’s your blood not some walker’s. It’s hot, it’s spilling and you’re very fucking scared. 

Keep reading

irlbenwyatt  asked:

hey! do you know any apocalypse (preferably zombie but any is fine) books that are lgbt?? thanks in advance

Yessss this is one of the Fave Five posts I’m working on now, but I have no zombie recs and no fifth title to make it complete :( Here’s what’s on there right now, though!

Love in the Time of Global Warming by Francesca Lia Block (YA, m/f, B, T)

Bleeding Earth by Kaitlin Ward (YA, f/f, L)

Signal Boost by Alyssa Cole (m/m)

After Midnight by Santino Hassell (m/m)

Anyone have any more recs?? (Zombies or otherwise?)