#bear witness to my post that i am typing up at 2 am and then queuing before passing tf out

[aesthetic-gem]

day 1 since losing walter bob: my minecraft crops are dying. i’ve probably cried enough tears to fill up bbh’s lgbtank at his base. the favela might be on fire. the sun hasn’t risen (honestly probably the federation’s fault). i see his beautiful blonde hair and pink nails in my dreams and nightmares. i only want justice

#justice for walter bob #qsmp #walter bob #bear witness to my post that i am typing up at 2 am and then queuing before passing tf out #walty boy is on my mind right before i crash ily king #my drama queen gene is activated rn

[misserabella]

W ♡RSHIP ME

EDDIE MUNSON X FEM! INNOCENT CATHOLIC READER

REMINDER THAT IF YOU FEEL YOU COULD GET OFFENDED BY THIS POST THERE IS NO NEED TO READ IT! I WOULD HATE TO MAKE ANY OF YOU THINK THAT THAT WAS THE INTENTION OF IT WHEN IT TRULLY ISN'T, I DEEPLY RESPECT ALL TYPES OF RELIGIONS! <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<3

Synopsis;; you didn't know what was happening with you, only that you wanted to dance with the devil under the name of Eddie Munson.

inspired by amazing writers such as @eddiemunsonhotgf and @dinodinodin0 ♡

CW;; references to the bible and church (also, eddie is not a believer and talks about his sinning and also is harsh about god, AGAIN DON'T TAKE IT SERIOUSLY PLEASE), mocking of god, cursing, drug use, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, smut, p in v sex, masturbation, dacryphilia, worshipping kink, god kink, overstimulation, a little bit of perv!Eddie, squirting, spanking, non protected sex (GUYS STDS ARE REAL, WRAP THE DONG UP), cream pie, finger fucking, chocking, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms… MINORS DNI!!!

(this actually got a little bit out of hand…)

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

Word count;; 9k

†

“Pray to me. Worship me.”

To be honest, Eddie gave a absolute and incredibly huge fuck about ‘the above’. If there were rules any supposed God had put on a silly book then there was him to break every and each one of them.

It was easy really, look.

“Thou shalt not steal.”

Jesus, what the hell? And literally speaking. Come on, he was not really gonna die from lightning if he borrowed a couple of rings from the punk store, was he?

2. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.”

I mean… More than one mother he has already fucked, so there was that…

3. “Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

… Yeah…

4. “Thou shall not take the name of thy God in vain.”

God could suck his cock, honestly.

5. “Honor thy father and mother.”

Say what now? Didn’t knew her. And him? He could suck his cock too.

6. “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.”

Oh yeah, sure. No lies, blah, blah, sin!, blah, blah. He was always lying (justifiable). Even to himself, for fucks sake! If you went and asked him if he wanted to fuck you, will he say yes? Well, that was not a great example, but y’all get the point.

7. “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods.”

Would you count as one of your father’s goods? ‘Cause if that’s the case… He couldn’t really help himself. He was going to make you his any way or the other.

8. “Thou shalt not kill.”

Well, except for that. He really hadn’t done that…

Well, as he was saying…

9. “Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day.”

With how you looked in that tiny little navy skirt and the way your tits pushed against your white catholic highschool shirt? He didn’t think he would be able to keep holy even in a normal day.

And lastly…

10. “I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt not have any gods before Me.”

Oh, but he had one. You.

You were this kind of fucking angel sent from heaven. With your beautiful and silky hair falling to your back in waves, the prettiest and shiny eyes he had ever seen and rosy fully glossed lips that parted to sing along with the church’s choir. With that wonderful body of yours that he would absolutely go down on his knees to worship, you and those curves, ass and thighs that he so has dreamed of making a mess of with his lips.

You had the sweetest voice and personality he has ever known, always so caring, so giving and so sensitive… Oh god, his cock pushed against his black jeans every single time a tear would cascade down your cheeks when you volunteered for those in need, too overwhelmed as you prayed for them.

He wanted so bad for you to pray for him instead, down on your knees, with those pretty lips…

He was no catholic, he never was. But for you? Jesus, he would even enroll in one of those goddamn religious schools, cut his hair and go around like a goddamn prep church boy spreading God’s word if that meant he could stay as close to you as he could.

You had noticed, of course. Who wouldn’t? He was the black sheep amongst all those white ones as the pastor went on and on towards the end of the mass. He was there every Sunday, just to see you. And sooner or later your eyes had drifted to the end of the room and met his. He felt as if he could die a happy man there, when you gave him a sweet smile before getting back to praying.

To your eyes he seemed… Different. Different than any other boy you had ever met. What was comprensible since you were always surrounded by your very well mannered and stiff classmates. If any of them were there, they would probably start saying something about how people like him would end up being abandoned by god and in hell.

You could almost hear them and your father to stay away from his kind when the priest announced that all of you shall receive communion bread from your neighbor. You didn’t know why, but before noticing, you were drifting away from the crowd and towards the back with one of the hosts in your hands, towards him.

His eyebrows rose when he noticed that you were approaching him, no one had before. So he felt clumsy as he stood up from the wood bench in which he had been sitting for the last one and a half hours.

Your eyes met his when you were close enough, and he simply stared at you, at your soft skin, long lashes and cute nose. He was taken back when your hands rose from below and towards his lips. Your cheeks were pink and your eyes darted towards one of the angels carved in the wood walls. He then understood what was going on when he noticed the little bread medallion on your fingers. Fuck, he hadn’t done the communion, so was he not supposed to eat that?

His eyes went back to your expecting face, who was now looking at his indecisive one, attentive.

Fuck it.

He thought as he leaned down and took it with his tongue. You felt your face redden when his bottom lip brush against your finger tips, his brown eyes closing as he leaned back tall, looking down at you with a smirk.

“Thanks, gorgeous.” you slightly jumped on your spot. His voice was so… You couldn’t even describe it with words. What it did to you, how your whole body seemed to have been set on fire and your hands trembled as you nodded, unable to even speak up.

You both stared at each other for what it seemed to be hours on end before you could recompose yourself and turn around to head back to your sit on the front. You were flushed, and you softly slapped your cheeks to focus. And you tried, you really tried, and yet, there you were, sneaking peeks to the metal head every now and then just to find out that he was already staring at you, making you stupidly blush every single time.

Oh yeah, Eddie loved mass now.

The best day of the week was Sunday. No discussion. Maybe a common teenager would actually prefer Friday, but Sunday was the only day of the week he actually got to see you, so that’s that. He could understand his uncle’s confused gaze every weekend when he would tell him he was going to church, but it was fun anyways. He could even see smoke coming out of his ears trying yo understand why him would be going to mass every week.

But oh, well. Anything to get a glimpse of you.

He couldn’t understand it either. It was like an obsession, taking out the stalking shit. He just couldn’t get enough of you and your discreet peeks at him, of how every time you would come to him in mass when the host had to be given and of how you always seemed to blush around him. It was instantaneous, the connection.

Maybe it was true that opposites attract. But he couldn’t focus on that at the moment, his whole being was focused on you.

It was late at night and mass had just finished, everyone was saying their goodbyes at the doors and outside, going to ride back to their homes.

By now, he knew that you always stayed inside for a little bit more, maybe to help the pastor, or pray just one last time before leaving, who knows? He would just wait for you, anyways, blunt on hand and eyes on the wood doors.

The smoke burned his throat as he dragged a new hit from it, and the cold night’s air was hitting his face and blowing his curly hair. The sky was full of stars, but the only sight he would die for was you.

You shivered as you stepped out of the church, waving a goodbye to the pastor with one of your sweets smiles, which disappeared rather quickly when the cold air hit your bare skin. Your uniform was really not made for winter-like nights, and the thin sweatshirt that you had brought with you even less. You groaned when you remembered that today neither of your parents could come pick you up and that you had to walk back home. Good thing was that you lived nearby so it wouldn’t take you long.

You smiled to a few of the families that said their goodbyes, your eyes strolling though the plaza ‘till they met the more wooded part of it and at the same time, a pair of brown ones that stared at you, glistening under the fire of the blunt in between those soft lips that touched your fingers every Sunday. Your cheeks went hot pretty quickly as you looked the other way, your steps not waiting to start moving towards the street, but you stopped halfway, something inside you tugging the other way around. You fisted your hands and squeezed your eyes shut as you stood there, indecisive but knowing damn well what you wanted. Eddie’s eyebrows rose, awaiting for your next move as he stared at your back and silk hair. Surprise filled his factions when you turned around in just a mere second, starting to walk towards him still with your eyes closed shut. As if that would help you…

Cute.

He had to bit down a smile, still looking away and leaning in the tree on his side side while getting a new drag as you closed the distance.

He stared at you when you had finally come to meet him, your eyes darting away from him just to go back in less than a few seconds. He fought the urge to smile once again when he saw you try and say something, struggling to find a way how to start.

He was so close… So close that you could smell the earthy smoke —not truly knowing what it was—that surrounded him and his stupidly addictive cologne. Okay, breathe. You can do this. You can do this.

“Hi.” you stuttered, looking up at him since he was a few inches taller than you.

He smirked as he hit the blunt one more time before temporarily turning it off since he wouldn’t want you to be around the smoke.

“Hi, sweetheart.” he calmly said, slowly blowing off the smoke away from you, saving the rest of his blunt in his pocket. His mind was the complete opposite of his appearance, it was a mess. Holy shit, you were so close. And, fuck, you were talking to him. For the first time ever. This was a fucking dream.

Your cheeks burned when you heard the little nickname, a shy smile pursing your lips. Your brain was probably burning now due to all the thinking you were doing, trying to think about something to say to him. Hell, this was hard. “I saw you on mass.” you muttered, wanting to really kick yourself due to the stupidness that you’ve said. That was something he already knew.

Eddie smiled, giving you a chuckle that made your heart skip a beat. God you were so beautiful… “I know, I saw you too, gorgeous.” And he was high. What only made his infatuation worse. “Are you not going home? No one coming to get you?” he inquired you.

“Oh, yeah. I’m gonna walk the way back, my parents couldn’t come today.” you smiled to what he frowned.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

“Why?” he inquired back, chuckling a little bit. “Beautiful girls like you shouldn’t walk alone at night, doll.”

You froze when one of his hands reached to brush back your locks from your face, making your stomach turn.

“We wouldn’t want any bad guy hurting you, would we?” you shook your head in response, to what he hummed. “That’s right… So, why don’t you let me take you home, sweetheart?” he offered you, cautious to not come out as a creep or something like that. He really wanted you to get home safe though.

“Would that be okay?” you inquired, making him smile.

“Of course, gorgeous.” he frowned when he saw you shiver, quickly getting rid of his jacked to hand it to you. “Take this too, I’m sure you are freezing with that uniform on.” you blushed when his eyes scanned your bare legs, your soft hands bumping against his more tougher ones when you muttered a little ‘thanks’ and pushed the warm vest on your shoulders. You felt like drowning, not only because it was absolutely huge on you, but because it smelled like him. With that woody string that you couldn’t really put your finger on.

He mouthed a ‘fuck’ when he saw you on his jacket, your innocent eyes staring at him as you melted on the denim. You looked so beautiful that it made a boner start to grow on his pants. But he pushed the dirty thoughts that filled his mind to the back of it and pressed his palm on your lower back. “Let’s go, beautiful.” he smiled at you as you both walked towards his van, which’s door he opened for you before getting on the driver’s seat and starting the car. Music filled your ears when the radio got turned on, only a whisper to your ears as you were so focused on the way his veiny and big hands gripped the wheel and manhandled it to start driving away.

He made sure you had your seatbelt on, but really didn’t mind to even put his on before getting to the road.

“Where to, sweetheart?” he inquired you, turning down the music a little bit as his eyes quickly found yours, nodding when you gave him your direction.

You both were silent during the drive, not an awkward kind of it, though, more like a warm one. Your eyes wandered around the messy van, which was filled with metal tapes, some beer cans, cigarettes that had stumbled out of the ashtray and notebooks and book on the backseats, which were clearly from D&D.

“You play the guitar?” you inquired when you noticed one red pick hanging from his neck, something you hadn’t been able to see since it has been hidden under his jacket.

He smiled at your question, his body shaking slightly when you leaned over him and picked the pick in between your fingers. The design was really beautiful. “I do, actually, I’m even on a band.” your eyes widened.

“Really? What’s its name?”

“Corroded Coffin.” you nodded. “We play at the Hideout from time to time.”

“How cool, I’ve never met someone who played the electric guitar, on my school they’re forbidden. They only teach us how to play the piano.” you sighed.

“Well, If you liked I could play for you sometime.” you seemed exited at his offer.

“I would love that! I’m sure you’re amazing.” he felt himself slightly blushing, looking at you with a little grin before shrugging.

“I guess I’m good with my fingers.” he chuckled when you only smiled wider, pretty shiny eyes shining under the moonlight and completely oblivious of the lustful meaning of his words. What an innocent girl. “Okay, how about I play for you…, If you play for me too? What do you say, hm?” he said, pulling over in front of your house and stopping the car to turn to look at you. “Do we have a deal, gorgeous?” he inquired while offering you one of his hands on a shake.

You bit your bottom lip anxiously. “Okay.” you muttered, talking his hand in between yours, amazed by how his rough fingertips stayed warm even in the coldest of nights and just how long his fingers were compared to yours. A lightning went down though your whole body when his free hand reached your face, thumb pressing against your bottom lip as his eyes took in just how perfectly sinful they seemed. He dreamed of someday tasting them, breaking them with his teeth.

“I can’t wait.” he whispered, your doe eyes staring into his when he flashed you a smile and pulled away. “Now, get home safe, gorgeous. Don’t keep your parents waiting.” you nodded, following his orders and getting off of the van, not before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek, a shy giggle falling off your lips.

“Thank you for taking me home. I’ll see you next Sunday!” you waved goodbye as you walked towards your door, cheeks flushed and a big smile.

He gave you a wave just as you closed the front door behind your back, his raised hand pressing against the tingling skin of his cheek, where your lips had rested.

She’ll be the death of me…

He thought as he stared his van once again.

And that was just the start of everything.

You and Eddie became close pretty quickly. Was he the best influence? Absolutely not, since he had found a way to take you to the last church’s bench just to keep you giggling and blushing all the way through mass.

He had even introduced you to his friends. They were really cool…, different. There was this little genius named Dustin, who along with his friends always played D&D Friday afternoons, Steve and Robin, who worked on the Film Store and were always discussing the best films of history, and Nancy, the sweetest yet fearless girl you had ever met. At first you felt like an intruder, but they seemed to like you as much as you liked them, since they started to invite you to your hangouts and always ask Eddie about you when they had the chance.

Your parents were surprised, if not astonished, at first when they met Eddie and your group. They were so used to those prude bible lover classmates of yours that it was a shock for them. But once they saw just how happy it all made you, they decided that they’d accept it only if you continued with your bible studies and went to church every Sunday, what you obviously weren’t planning on stop doing.

Something forbidden though, was having boys at home, even more in your room.

But the first time that Eddie knocked on your window a Friday night it all want to… well, Hell.

You were laying on your bed after having had a long bath and fully clothed on your flared night dress, reading a little bit of one of the books that Eddie had lended you: Lord of the Rings. He said that once you had finished the first one he would give you the second. You would lie if you said you understood something, if not anything. But you weren’t that far on the book yet, so maybe you just had to give it time. You were lost on the inked papers when suddenly someone knocked at your window, startling you. With widened eyes you turned just to see a smiling metal head waving at you and pointing at the window lock with a little smile. You quickly closed the book and walked towards it, unlocking it just to see the curly haired get in without making a sound.

“Eddie?” you clasped over your mouth when you found yourself speaking too loud, whispering when your lips parted once again. “What are you doing here!?”

“Just wanted to see you, gorgeous. Is that a sin?” he mocked you, wandering around your bedroom and taking every single detail in as you hurriedly closed and locked your door.

Eddie found himself mesmerized by your room, it was a complete opposite of his: clean, organized, pink…

You grasped away from his hands one of your teddy bears that he had took to inspect, his brown eyes back on you.

“You know you can’t be here! What if my parents found out?” he hushed you with a soft smile on his lips, hands on your shoulders.

“They won’t. I promise, alright? I parked the van one block down your neighborhood, they won’t even suspect. Never saw me climb in too, so we’re safe.” you seemed relieved, falling on your bed and him following, sitting on his book and pulling it off under him just to smile and look at you. “You’re reading it!” you looked at him.

“Well yeah, at least I’m trying. Everything is so confusing…” he let out a little chuckle.

“You know that if you need my help you just want to ask me, sweetheart. I can explain to you the lore in less than thirty minutes from all the times that I’ve read the saga.”

You giggled when he bumped the book on your head, making him let out a soft laughter too before he would make you blush —like always— by complimenting just how beautiful you looked that night.

Even though you always feared him getting caught by one of your parents every single time he sneaked in and, getting you grounded, with every new secret visit, that fear slowly disappeared.

Eddie made you feel good, and safe. He always talked to you about his day, giving you as much details as he could just so you could feel how being a Hawkins High student felt like. Of course, he took out Jason’s bullying and how everyone thought of him as a freak in fear you’d end up thinking about him the same way they thought about him, which was stupid, since you adored Eddie.

He was always the sweetest, always taking care of you, making sure you were warm every night after church, comfortable on his van’s seat… Making sure you had something to eat, trying his best to make you feel like the most important thing in the whole world… It made your heart beat pretty quickly when he would take your hand when you walked down the streets, making you go on the inside part and telling you to be careful with the rain poodles in case you’d go and slip.

He always let you hide on his chest when you watched scary movies with him on his trailer, and gave you his shirt and sweats —which were too big for you— to sleep if you ever decided to spend the night. He even lent you his bed and slept on the couch. He was a gentleman.

Or that’s what he wanted you to think. ‘Cause he really was no saint. He had to fought a boner every time you’d sleep over, or fall asleep on his chest after a long movie night, or ignore the way your tongue swirled around an ice cream, or how your tits bounced while running for him and pressed against his chest, or fight the urge to touch when while reading your little cotton panties would show under your night gown, or when your skirt would rile up a little bit too much exposing your perfect thighs… Fuck. He had had to go to the bathroom multiple times to masturbate and get it over with or else he would feel like going crazy.

He wanted you, really wanted you. Wanted to make you choke on his dick, to touch you over your panties in the last church’s bench while the mass went on, make you grind on him in the confessional, he wanted to hear you moan in his ear as he pounded in you in Steve’s bathroom while the others watched a movie downstairs, he wanted to mark your neck just so you would struggle to hide them from your catholic little teacher and friends. God, he was the devil, and you were that pretty little angel that he so wanted to corrupt all for himself.

He had dreamed about you, crying while being too cock drunk, begging for him to fuck you harder. He would wake up in the middle of the night gasping for air and with cum in his underwear when he once dreamed about you calling him your god.

He felt sick. He was sick. Sick for wanting to hurt you, to cuff you to his bed as he ate you out over and over again ‘till you couldn’t cum anymore, for taking a knife and cutting his initials on your flesh only to lick clean the wound and then let you taste it on his lips, he wanted to fill you up with his cum and watch it drip out of your tight little cunt just to get hard again and fuck you one more time. He wanted to spank you so you wouldn’t be able to sit on your chair next morning, he wanted to choke you and hear your whimpers as he fucked you stupid.

He had even stolen your used panties from the dirty laundry once that he had sneaked on your bathroom under the excuse to pee, just to fuck his fist —once he was back in his trailer— with them and lick the crotch as he pleasured himself while fantasizing about it being your pussy instead. He had even risked waking you up while masturbating next to you in your slumber, for fucks sakes!

He wanted to hear you scream his name so bad… Hear you beg for him to do anything he wanted to you, to fill you up, to break you, to…

“Eddie?” you sweet voice filled his ears, pulling him away from his train of thought. You two were alone for the night in your house, your parents having gone away on a trip due to work and leaving you all alone, to what you’ve asked Eddie if he could stay with you since you were scared. After a couple of minutes, he was knocking on your door with all types of movies and snacks. And there you were, in your room, under the dim light of your lamp and the television, which played ‘The Exorcist’.

It was not the first night the two of you had spent alone in your room, he had slept over each time your parents were away just to keep you company and hugged you ‘till you had fallen asleep. But something was wrong that night. Well, you had been feeling kind of strange for a while now.

It all started a couple of weeks ago where one of your friends had come to school with flushed cheeks and a scarf around her neck, which was strange since it was not that cold yet. It was not ‘till recess when she had told you all about it and taken of her scarf to show her little secret. She was full of hickeys, something you’ve learned not too long ago. You didn’t understand what had happened ‘till she whispered about the weekend he had spend with his boyfriend on her house, while his parents were away for vacation. She had given all of you clear details about how she had gotten those and how his boyfriend had —and you quoted— wrecked the shit out of her. Even though you were quite lost, you knew that whatever she had done was a sin, since they were out of marriage. But when you told her so she just went and told you ‘As if you didn’t have a boy that you’d like to fuck too.’ Your eyes had widened at her words, cheeks flushing and confusion settling on your head when suddenly Eddie’s face came to your mind.

That day, you spent the whole school time thinking about it, fire on your stomach when suddenly you’d imagined yourself with your neck full of bruises just like your friends but this time being Eddie the one that had sucked them on you. Was then when you started feeling strange, your whole body flushing and a really uncomfortable tingle in your lower parts that had you awkwardly brushing against your chair from time to time, what only made it worse.

You thought it had gone away, but then you had met Eddie the next day in church and that feeling had come back to haunt you, worsening with the little strokes that his fingertips gave to the thigh where his hand rested. You had tried and praying it away, too embarrassed to even think about what that exactly meant and trying to erase your friend’s words out of your head.

Although everything went down hill when you woke up one night startled and with slick in your panties due to a very indecent dream you had had. You didn’t understood why, but you had taken the teddy bear that Eddie was always messing with and pushed it in between your thighs in hopes that it would stop that tingly feeling that so crazy was driving you, only to find yourself pushing against it when you felt good… Really good even. Even more when you went ahead and went though your dream one more time. It was Eddie, slowly kissing your neck, skin glistening due to his tongue and little open mouthed kissed and bites that he had given you, and not really knowing how, that same mouth had ended up finding its way in between your thighs and buried himself there. But you got scared as your stomach tightened and pushed it away, gasping for air with tears in your eyes as you grasped tightly your rosary in between your fingers and prayed and prayed over and over again. Although the pain never left.

You couldn’t even look at Eddie’s face due to the embarrassment that night after church, and prayed the whole day after that, scared that some demon had come to hurt you on your sleep.

What would Eddie think of you? What would God think about you?

You had tried everything. Everything to push it away, to forget about it.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he was drawing little circles on your bare thighs, your head against his shoulder and chest, your arms around his waist.

Yet there was it, that stupid feeling once again, making you all flushed and wet down there due to just a pair of simple touches from your best friend.

“Can you… Can you please stop touching me?” you inquired him with a soft and hurt voice, trying really hard not to brush yourself against your bed sheets for that relief you had felt once with your plush. No. It’s wrong. It’s wrong…

He seemed surprised at first at your words, but quickly pulled his hand away from your skin, worry on his voice. “I’m sorry, gorgeous, was I making you feel uncomfortable?”

Surprisingly enough, you whined when you felt the urge to ask him to touch you again, feeling so overwhelmed and frustrated and scared that tears started to form on your eyes. Eddie’s widened when he heard your little gasps and hiccups, being quick to stop the movie and turn to you, his eyes finding your teary ones.

“Hey…” his voice was filled with sadness as his hands cupped your rosy cheeks, his eyebrows turned and face worried. “What’s wrong, gorgeous?” his thumbs swayed the tears away as you cried, shattering his heart.

“I— I don’t feel good.” you muttered, making him worry even more.

“Why? Are you feeling sick? Does it hurt somewhere?” you nodded, crying even harder, your hands fisting his shirt. “Where? Where does it hurt?” he inquired you but you simply shook your head.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you.” and you truly couldn’t, what would Eddie think of you? He would hate you! He would leave you alone and then you two wouldn’t be friends anymore.

He looked so concerned he seemed pale. “Tell me where it hurts, baby, please?” he inquired and you only buried your face on his neck. “Please baby, please?”

You hid even more before you could mumble something his ears didn’t catch, your breath on his skin making him slightly shiver.

New tears damped his tee as you cried on his neck, him not truly understanding, taking your face in between his hands once more and away from his neck to try and understand as he tried to push away that lingering pleasure of seeing your tears.

“I don’t understand, sweetheart. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just… I just can’t make it stop!” you frustratedly whimpered, your thighs pushing together.

“What is it, gorgeous? You know you can always tell me anything, I’m here for you, okay? I’m here for you.” he promised, giving you a slight kiss on your forehead.

“It hurts very bad, Eddie.” and when he softly asked you again where you muttered a “Down… Down there.” your pretty voice came out as a whisper, but he was still able to hear it, his eyes drifting to your legs, which pressed tightly against the other.

“Down there, baby?” you nodded.

“It feels hot and hurts when you touch me and I can’t make it stop. I’m sorry, I’m veryveryvery sorry Eddie, please don’t be mad, please?” you begged him, his heart skipping a beat when you confirmed his guessing.

You were… You were, fuck.

“I’m not mad, doll.” he gave you a sweet smile as he pushed the last few tears away from your cheeks.

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” he nodded, gulping hard when you squirmed under his touch once one of his hands had found his way to your thighs. “But I need to you show me where it hurts, okay sweetheart? I don’t really know what you mean.” he said, rubbing circles on your warm skin.

Oh, he knew what you meant. He perfectly knew. But it was too good to be true. You? Hot and bothered because of him? God was really playing with him right now, right? This couldn’t be…

“Can you do that for me, hm?” you nodded when his soft voice reached you, your own shaky little hand taking his just to push your thighs apart and slowly start to drag it inwards, a sigh scaping your lips.

This was one of those goddamn dreams, it had to be. It had to… Jesus H Crisht.

“There.” you stuttered when his palm was fully cupping your clothed cunt, the warmth and wetness in your panties making him moan.

“Is there where it hurts, baby?” you nodded, your eyes closing as your teeth captured your bottom lip. “Since when does it hurt, hm?” he inquired, trying really hard to stay still and not push those goddamn beautiful panties away to push his fingers roughly inside you and make you scream.

“Since a couple of days.” ‘Since the dream’. You wanted to add.

“My poor baby, all frustrated and bothered. You must have really had a bad time…” you nodded, almost crying once again, when his other hand cupped your wet and warm cheek, his lips on your ear as he whispered. “I know what’s wrong with you.”

“You know?” you inquired, your voice holding a little bit of hope in all that list that you really couldn’t understand.

“Mmh, mmh.” he muttered, thumb pressing against your bottom lip, eyes on it as his tongue dampened his own. “It happens to me too… All the time. But only when I’m with you.” you gasped at his words, quivering when his minty breath hit your face. “I know how to make it feel better. Do you want me to make it feel better, gorgeous?” you quickly nodded, your hips bucking towards his hand when his fingertips slowly and softly made its way down your slit, still not pressing into your wet folds.

“Yes please, Eddie. Please.” you begged, making him grin at your broken pleads, even more when your head fell backwards and you moaned when his touch became rougher, his body moving ‘till he now rested behind you, your back against his chest.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked, his fingers touching your clit over your pink panties. You nodded. “Words, gorgeous. Use your words.” his index pressed harder and you whined, your fingers fisting the floral sheets under you.

“Yes. Yes. Feels… Feels good, Eddie.” you found a way to babble out, too out of it.

“Look at you, I’m only touching you over your panties and you are already like this.” he chuckled. “Such a good dirty girl.” you whimpered at his words, hips pushing against his touch, shaking when his lips found your neck. “Why don’t you be good for me and get rid of your panties, mh?”

You were quick to push them down your thighs, your slick forming a thick string in between the cotton and your cunt that made Eddie groan, dick fully hard underneath his jeans.

“Good girl.” he praised you, his hand going back in between your thighs, taking your breath away. “Does that feel better now?” you nodded, incredibly overwhelmed by the difference that it was having him touching you under you clothes then above. Hell, if you had been close to cumming with just your teddy bear, you were now seconds away from bursting. “I bet it does. So pretty.” his middle finger pressed against your entrance, circling it and making you moan his name.

“Eddie.” he groaned when it fell from your lips, your nails digging on his thighs as you pulsed against his fingertips. “More.” you didn’t truly know what you were asking for, but the words came on it’s own as you whimpered, pushing against his finger.

“Does my pretty girl want more?” you answered with a plead ‘yes, please’. “Then open up for me a little bit more, baby.” he said against your neck, sucking slightly on your skin and making you moan as your thighs parted to their limits. “That’s it.” you cried out when his finger slowly pushed against the ring of muscles, sinking in when it gave out.

“Eddie…” you whimpered, the strange feeling of his finger inside of, you slowly pulling backwards just to push back in once again, making your head spin, the wet sounds of your pussy receiving his digits making him lose his mind.

“Fuck.” he groaned, his hard dick pushing against your lower back. He was so hard he swore he could cum just with your whimpers and moans. “That’s it baby, you’re being so good…” your nails dug harder on his thighs when he tried his luck by pushing another finger in, this one stinging but not for long since his thumb pressed against your clit and his two fingers curved to hit your g spot.

You then became a mumbling mess, begging for that feeling again, for more from him and crying and moaning his name over and over again.

You were feeling once again that strange and overwhelming pressure in your lower stomach. And he knew, since your walls were tightening around his fingers, that you were close. Close to the best feeling that you had yet to know.

“Eddie, I…”

“You close, gorgeous? Gonna cum all over my fingers?” he muttered against the skin of your neck. “Gonna scream my name as you cum, hm?”

You didn’t know what it was, but you were so close, so close.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. Let me have it.” and with a last breath you broke down in cries and high pitched moans, his name falling off your lips as the best thing you had ever experienced hit you. It was warm, and so intense that it made you lose focus of your surroundings, making you go blind as Eddie groaned in your neck, biting down on your soft skin. “Atta girl.” you whimpered as his fingers helped you ride out your orgasm, your thighs twitching and tears in your eyes as your walls fluttered around his rough and thick fingers. “Fuck baby, that was so hot.”

You gasped for air as you came down, your head against his shoulder and entrance twitching when his cum covered fingers left you and found its way to his mouth, licking them clean and tasting you with a hum.

You whined at the sight, making him smirk. “What is it, want a taste sweetheart?” you nodded, half-lided eyes shining with pleasure. “Then open your mouth for me.” you did so as he turned your face with one of his hands just to lean on you, his tongue sloppy but hungry in your mouth and his free hand groped one of your breasts, making you moan.

It was your first kiss, and even if you had imagined it a thousand times how it would be before, it was definitely not like that. It was messy, and hot, and really difficult to follow. That’s why you found yourself pulling him back in from his neck, wanting more of his lips on yours and your taste in his mouth. But he just wouldn’t give it to you, chuckling mere inches from your face making you whine.

“Nuh-uh, that’s not how we ask for things, beautiful.”

“Please, Eddie…” you whispered against his lips, his thumb pulling on your bottom lip ‘till your mouth was open for him once again.

“Stick your tongue out.” he ordered, and you followed, moaning when he leaned in once again, his tongue bruising your own and making your eyes roll when his free hand snuck back to your thighs, this time ascending to your tummy, all the way up ‘till his fingertips bumped against your under boobs. “Fuck, you are not wearing a bra, baby?” you shook your head, his dick twitching against your back, but later against your thighs once he had pushed you on your back and quickly topped you. “Such a tease…” he mumbled against the skin on your neck, giving you a harsh bite that made you cry and pushed him flush against you, his hands taking a hold on your pretty tits under your shirt, your nipples hard and begging to be touched.

“Eddie, please… Kiss me, please.” you pleaded for him to go back to your lips, to your tongue, intoxicated by his touch, his words and his hard dick pressing against your skin. You so wanted to be touched again, to be relieved from that pain that once again grew in between your thighs.

“So pretty begging for me, do you want it that bad?” you nodded, squirming under his touch and letting out a hurt whimper when he pinched and pulled your nipples, leaving that tingle and warmth spread on your skin. “Cant hear you baby.”

“I want it, please, please, please…” your hips pushed against his when he found his way in between your legs, wet pussy against the rough denim of his crotch. “Please, Eddie, it hurts.” new tears came to your eyes, moaning over and over again when he started to dry hump against you, rubbing your sensitive clit and making you see stars.

“Such a greedy little bitch.” you cried out at his words, all that sweet talk leaving him when his palm hardly fell on the flesh of your thigh, making your body jolt. “Gave you my fingers and yet you don’t find it enough?” the next slap made you push harder against his cock, making him groan in your chest as he snapped the buttons of your shirt just to let his tongue freely lap at your tits, biting and sucking hardly on your skin, leaving beautiful marks behind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you cried, one of your hands instantly going to take a hold on the little cross that dangled from your neck, something you did as you prayed and in times where you felt like giving into sin.

“You gonna pray, whore? Gonna pray to god while I fuck you?” he inquired, his grip on your wrists as he pushed your hands away from your necklace and over your head. You moaned when the denim brushed over your cunt once again, it dampening due to how wet you were. “He’s not the one making you feel better, sweetheart. You should be praying to me. It’s me who you should be begging and for which you’d go down on your knees, don’t you think, hm?” you nodded even though the grip on your wrists pained you and his teeth harshly dug on the skin of your neck, ‘cause it felt so good, better than anything you’ve experienced before. “What a dirty slut, giving in to me just so I make you cum, isn’t that right? Say it. Say you want me to make you cum all over my cock.” your body grew on goosebumps to his orders, you babbling and trying to make sense of the words who left your lips, receiving a harsh slap when you could find a way to pull them in order. “Come on, sweetheart, I know you want it. You want me to make you feel good again, right? You want to make me feel good?” you quickly nodded, eyes closed as he dry humped against your aching cunt. You no longer wanted his fingers, you were in need of something bigger, something that would fill you up to the brim and make you choke out on it. “Then say it, baby. I know you can.”

Your lips parted in a cry when one of his hands left your wrists just to find its way to your clit, thighs shaking as you felt the pressure start to build again in your stomach, lifting you higher and higher.

“Please, Eddie. Make me…” you whimpered when his circling didn’t stop. “I want to cum on your cock.” you managed to say, not really caring anymore about the eyes that watched you up from the sky. If God loved you…, then why would he make this a sin? Why could something that felt so good be bad? Maybe Eddie was right, maybe it was him your truly God.

You found yourself tugging against his hand and trying to push him back to your core when he pulled away, leaving you with an orgasm that never came and shaking on your place, begging in between little whispers and mutters.

“Fuck. Look at you. All messed up and I haven’t even begun to fuck you. You are gonna do good for me, isn’t that right baby? You are gonna take it, gonna take my cock and cum on it over and over again, and fucking take it.” when he finally freed your wrists, your hands quickly searched up for him, his own unbuckling his belt as you nodded, pushing his jeans and boxers —wet with precum — down his thighs, freeing his aching and swollen dick, which bumped against his happy trail. You eyes widened at the sight. So that was what had been poking you that whole time. It was strangely beautiful. Mushroom tip wet and red, great length and girth with a couple of veins on its side… It had a little curve too. “Are you gonna be a good girl for me, gorgeous?” you nodded, eyes never leaving his cock when his hand gripped and started moving around it, soft groans that made your pussy clench leaving his lips. “Then why don’t you open up yourself for me, hm? Let me see that pretty pussy of yours.” you moaned at his hungry gaze, tongue sliding through his bottom lip as your hands snaked down your chest and stomach to your thighs and later on, your folds, your fingers digging on your wetness just to open them up, giving him a full view of your twitching hole and clit. “Fuck. Atta girl. You’re so good baby, so good for me.” you whimpered, hips pushing against his own when he was once again in between your thighs, tip sliding though your folds and bumping your clit, making you moan and your head fall back.

Your hands quickly found the bottom of his shirt, and later, his bare back, your eyes wandering on the ink that decorated his skin. You’d seen it before, of course, since he mostly wandered around shirtless in his van, but it never failed to amaze you. It was just so beautiful… He moaned when your nails dig on his shoulder blades, his dick twitching against your entrance and slightly pushing against it and making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Eddie, I need you, please God, I need you…” you babbled out, pushing against him and pulling him closer, the grip on your hip tightened as he smirked.

“Who are you begging to baby? Me or God?” his mouth hovered over your neck, his tongue flattening in a long wet strip from your collarbones to your ear, whispering there and making your skin prickle. “Or maybe I’m both?” you moaned and he just smiled wider. “Yeah?” his eyebrows rose as you nodded, bottom lip in between your teeth and breath hitching when his tip pushed inwards once again, teasing you. “Am I your God, sweetheart?” you nodded again, moaning when he softly bit your jaw. “Then pray to me.” he mumbled, his tip finally pushing and gaining a lustful and painful whine from your lips. “Worship me.” he groaned as he slowly thrusted in your wetness, cursing under his breath since you were so tight he felt like exploding.

Sure, it hurt. It was your first time. You hadn’t even ever touched yourself before that night, Eddie’s fingers doing the honors to let you know that that kind of pleasure was possible in a human being. And that it was okay. Your bedroom floor hadn’t cracked open to let you fall to Hell, like you’d feared, instead, rising you to Heaven, higher and higher above the clouds and nearer the sun.

He was so big that you felt like dying, so heavy and warm inside you that had you all messed up and crying under him due to the desire and pleasure that surrendered you to his touch. Your tears bringing him to groan as he bottomed out, he couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t yet believe that he was inside you, fucking you, making you cry and beg for him. “Fuck.” he cursed, trying to focus on not cumming on the spot, trying to ignore the way your walls surrounded him and your body twitched, nails digging in his back as you rocked against him. “So good, baby. You’re such a good girl.” you whimpered, his hands wondering around your body and giving you soft squeezes as encouragement. He was waiting for you, waiting for the pain to dissipate and you to get used to him being deep inside you. When your rocking became more noticeable, he smiled at your pretty moans.

“Eddie…” you called out for him, gasping for air when he pulled out ‘till only the tip remained inside and thrusted back in, hitting something inside you that made you see stars and cry out.

“That’s it.” he cooed, pounding on you once again, hair caressing your chest and his lips brushing against yours. “Such a pretty girl taking my cock.” you whimpered, his tongue pushing inside your mouth and kissing you dirtily as his groans made you gasp. It was too much. Too much. “Take it, doll. Take my cock. Just like that, fuck. Good girl.” you moaned his name as his hips started to take up on speed. “You like that? Like my cock? This sweet pussy of yours seems to love it.” he smirked as a new thrust let you hear the dirt sounds of your juices against his dick. “So greedy, sucking me in so good. Such a slut.” you screamed when his hand fell harshly against the side of your thigh.

The only thing you could do was moan his name over and over again, the constant hitting to that sweet spot inside you driving you crazy and nearing you to that now known feeling of relief.

“Look at you, so cock drunk you can’t even talk.” he laughed, thrusting harder, deeper, faster… “You’re drooling all over yourself, baby.” you gagged when two of his fingers went into your mouth, drool dampening them and spilling over your chin. “What a pretty girl. So pretty letting me fuck her just how I want.” he moaned when your walls tightened around him. “Taking me so good. Such a good little toy.” you cried, his fingers making your pleading all muffled and broken. “You liked that, baby? Like me to treat you badly?” another slap on your thigh had you nodding like crazy, his name falling off of tour lips when his fingers left your mouth only to wrap around your throat, making the oxygen hardly full your lungs and blood flow to your brain.“I’m sure you’d let me cum in you, isn’t that right. I can bet you even want it. Want my cum filling you up so good you’d beg me for it every goddamn day, isn’t that right, gorgeous?” you nodded, begging for it and making him grunt on your mouth, his tongue pushing against your lips. You choked at the feeling of his fingers digging on your neck, his name falling off your lips like a church song.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…” new tears streamed down your face when his fingers found your clit. And by the way you were tightening around him he new you were close.

“Gonna cum baby? Gonna cum on my cock?” you nodded, moans closer to each other. “What a good girl. Cum for me baby, let me hear you.” you didn’t even wait to do so, cumming so hard you swore the world was falling to pieces around you, your sweet choked out whimpers making him lose control, fucking you harshly and mercilessly, your hands leaving his shoulders to press against his stomach, scratching him when he wouldn’t even let you rest from your high, which never seemed to finish.

“Too much, it’s… It’s too much, Eddie, please…” you begged, choked by his hand, feeling the constant pounding build something different inside you. “Stop! Stop… Something’s… Something’s gonna come out!” you begged, but he didn’t seemed to listen, too out of it due to just how pretty you looked crying and getting the shit fucked out of you by his cock.

He moaned at your arching back and high pitched scream, juices gushing out of your pussy and dampening his cock, thighs and your sheets. His eyes widened when he seemed to understand what had just happened.

“Did you just… Fuck baby. Did you just squirted?” you were a crying mess under him, too overwhelmed to even answer or really understand what had just happened. “Fuck, that was so hot. I’m gonna fucking cum.” he moaned as his thrusts became sloppier and his groans louder, fucking you faster but not as deep as he sought his own release while his name fell off your lips over and over again. “y/n, ah fuck, so good, I’m gonna cum so hard… Gonna fill you up so good, so full…” he moaned when after one, two, three more deep thrusts he spilled in you, painting your walls in white and making you moan at the feeling, your name falling off his lips on whimpers when his arms gave out and fell on top of you.

The two were a goddamn mess, all sticky and sweaty, you whimpered when he kissed you once again, this kiss being sloppier and more lazy, sweet. A little gasp left your lips when his fingers tightened around your necklace and pulled, stealing it from your neck. “You won’t be needing this anymore.” he smirked, instead taking his own off his neck, the one with his red pick dangling, and pulling it over your head. “Since from now on you’d be on your knees for me, hm?” you nodded, sighing when his lips where back to yours, hissing a little bit when he pulled out of you, cum dripping down your thighs onto the wet sheets as he put on your own necklace, the cross shining under your lamp’s light. “You’re mine now, sweetheart.”

thanks to everyone who comments, likes and reblogs, it really helps this blog to reach more and more people!!! hope y’all liked this post! <3

also, thanks for the 400 followers! y’all are the best!!!!

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things season 4 #st4 #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader

[mjrarcana]

Alright, so this is gonna be a time. It involves Akechi and will probably be all over the place. But anyway, I would like to explain how this came to me. Basically Vinland Saga rearranged my brain chemistry. And seeing Thorfinn really awakened my Akechi muse in a new way. So briefly, and bear with me bc this is important, I am gonna outline some things I have cooked up involving Akechi in the past year or so.

SO it's all about redemption arcs baby. So as we all know, Akechi (at 15) gets his powers and approaches Shido, I have my post about how that went down here. At that point, he approached Shido intending to get revenge on him. Due to situations, he ended up having to bide his time. Akechi states in the game that if he had met Joker earlier, maybe he wouldn't have gone down that path. I agree! Akechi wanted to be a hero, but he was slowly pushed by society into the role of a villain. I think when considering him, it is VERY IMPORTANT to consider that the way orphans/single moms/kids in the foster system are treated in Japan is significantly worse than in the USA and I read a lot of articles about this when I wrote Akechi back in 2017. I can def try to find some of those sources. But if you look it up you will see that adopting a kid is heavily stigmatized in Japan and people in the system are booted out at 16 with almost no safety net (this may have changed but as of the articles I read in 2017, this was the case. Just like up "nobody's children".) So he did become very reliant on Shido's money and influence.

Now, Akechi is a killer. He has killed a LOT of people for Shido. And this is where I wanted to bring up the way that Vinland Saga rearranged my brain chemistry. So please stay with me here.

So if you don't know (spoilers for vinland saga), Vinland Saga is a story about a boy in viking times that witnesses his father be killed by a pirate named Askeladd. He is around 6 at the time and stows away on the boat they steal from his father. Now the boy's father was a viking who became a pacifist and ran away to raise his family without violence. When the men he used to work with found him, one of them hired pirates to kill him. Thorfinn plans on getting revenge. But he's a kid and can't fight the grown ass man. So Thorfinn ends up joining Askeladd's crew in the hopes to beat him in a duel (since his father won the duel they had but Askeladd's husband number 2 held Thorfinn hostage so that way they could still kill him). And so for like 11 years Thorfinn murders people for the very man he wants to kill. Constantly fighting and losing to him as a reward for his service. He becomes his dog and everything his father was against. Thorfinn at this time when he's around 16-17 is like Akechi but worse.

Now at the end of the first arc, Askeladd is killed in a sort of suicide by cop type of deal. Thorfinn loses all direction in life and becomes an empty husk. During this time, he meets Einar who becomes his first ever friend. He starts to become a person again slowly. And eventually he starts to use his strength to protect people and vows to never kill again. The redemption arc is so slow as it builds up from him being actually EVIL in the first arc to the kind of person that would risk everything for people.

So basically, my entire thing here is to talk about a potential post-game verse for Akechi. Now, I don't think him going to prison or whatever is good because uhhh a lot of political reasons I won't go into. There is no proof Akechi did anything wrong. He can't actually face real punishment from the system. So you have to wonder if he feels remorse. Yes. He does. He had been so wrapped up in his own shit that he was totally blinded by it. That is going to hit him like A TRUCK. I know that Akechi wanted to be a hero at one point. And he thought it was too late for him in the game. So when he doesn't actually die at the end of Royal, now he has to face the consequences. It isn't something as simple as going to prison. But it's seeing the harm he caused. It's not having any more excuses. And if Joker is still around, it's having at least one person that knows him to his core and will hold him accountable and care about him.

I want to give Akechi a redemption arc. I think it started on the ship when he 'died'. But that is just the start. I don't think Akechi is going to change overnight. But he will change. And he can never take back what he did. He can never undo the suffering. But he can try to plant a tree for every person he killed, just like Thorfinn. IDK. Like obviously, Akechi is never going to become a "flower garden of a man" like Thorfinn does. But I do think that with time, he could try to become the type of person that can at least help as many as he hurt even if it takes his entire life to do it.

That being said: I don't want everyone to forgive him. Part of growing from your actions and becoming a better person is having people resent you and hate you for your actions. Being held accountable and it doesn't matter if you are sorry or not. You cannot undo the harm you caused someone else. You cannot make them forgive you. And you can hardly even ASK for it when it's as serious as what he did. So please: let your muse hate him if they would. Let people want nothing to do with him and hate that he's alive. Let them wish him the worst. Part of a good redemption arc is knowing that those feelings are valid. Akechi can never undo what he did, and having people resent him is one of my favorite ways for him to be held accountable.

#❝ by now i don't need no help to be destructive. ❞ ⸺ ⊰ goro akechi ⊱ #❝ from a tender age i was cursed with rage. ❞ ⸺ ⊰ goro akechi / headcanon. ⊱ #cw long post #( goro akechi ↷ life after death && post. )

[jaclynhyde]

The Shade's Journal

In lieu of a letter column, James Robinson's run of Starman occasionally featured text pieces from the Shade's journal. As these are not included in the Starman Compendium or DC's digital versions, I wanted to type them up so everyone can experience such treasures as the Shade's love for dogs, Howard Hughes getting beat up, and Jack Knight's weird thing for mimes. All of these are written by James Robinson; the rest will come eventually, as will a compilation post.

Starman v2 Issue 2

FROM THE SHADE'S JOURNAL

The problem with immortality is the memories. Prolonged life means more events, which in turn means more recollections at a later date. And there are so, so, so many events to recall.

Today there was nothing much occurring that I felt warranted inclusion in my journals. David Knight patrols the nighttime streets, and the city is Opal City. For this reason, with my book open on a blank white page, and my pen in my fingers, I feel compelled to write of the other times. Times past.

I remember London. Visiting it for the final time. Visiting Oscar too, at his Tite Street home. This was long before his fall from grace, thankfully. We ate a fine cream tea that afternoon, and I think this was not the first for Oscar, as his waistline was more than beginning to show. Not that it really mattered to me; I merely pause now to reflect.

Our time together was a delight. I sat and listened mainly. Oscar's night before had been one of fine port and rakishness, so he was slow to start with his wit. But, of course, he started eventually. And I listened and laughed as Oscar commented on "this" public figure or "that" bit of scandal. Indeed, that week there'd been a salacious new tale about Catherine Walters. "Skittles" as she was known, was one of London's more famous "grande horizontales." There had been talk of her and W.H. Grace, the famous cricket player. Oscar made a remark about "Dr. Grace getting a sticky wicket" that had me doubled over with laughter.

I'd just begun to realize, then, that perhaps, just perhaps, I was no longer going to age. This fact had crept up on me. It was with shock I realized that the week prior I'd turned sixty and yet still looked to be in my late thirties. And that day was when it really sank in. Oscar was beginning to show those signs of a misspent life that should have been mine also. Seeing the signs of wear and tear in my friend made me sad. And a little ashamed. Guilty.

Yes, looking back, perhaps that was why I never saw Oscar again. It was 1891, years after we'd last met in Opal City during his American tour. And years before his troubles with Queensbury and all the dreadfulness that followed. Poor Oscar, perhaps I should have been there for him in '95. But like many other friends, I was nowhere to be found.

Anyway, Oscar's evening was to be spent with Lord Alfred whom he'd recently met. Oscar was charmingly firm in telling me that I was not invited to accompany them.

And so we were alone that night, London and I.

My mood and the wind both had a sharp sting to them, and one or the other bid me to venture forth to Tiger Bay, down by the Thames where the air was foul and all good folk know never to go. But I am not, nor ever was, a good man. And so I went.

The opium dens and drinking clubs were full, with sailors, and doxies and Orientals. You could hear any language in the work. You could see any color skin too. London has always been a melting pot, and on this night in Tiger Bay, the fire beneath that pot was burning fierce.

I walked into a deserted courtyard, on my way from one street to another, and there stumbled on a most singular occurrence: a large brown bear being clubbed to death by its owner. The beast was close to the end, from the many repeated blows his owner had given it with a sharp studded mallet. I inquired what terrible thing the beast had done, that it should be treated so, and the man replied that the bear was too old to perform anymore. The bear had been a street dancer and on weekends in Pitney Market and other parts, had made this fellow much coin. But now old, the bear was costing the owner more to feed than the animal brought in, and so the man and resolved to kill the beast and sell its flesh to the slaughterhouses.

Something about the scenario struck me as ludicrous. The man was small and weak, and yet had somehow overcome this huge animal and with no regard or affection was now ending its existence merely for aging. I think my guilt over Oscar's aging might still have been affecting me. Perhaps.

Whatever. I killed the man.

The reason I'd gone to Tiger Bay was that this had been where I was born. "I" being the Shade, of course. I had even then ceased to think of my "human" existence, before my transformation, as living. I suppose by returning to my roots, I'd thought to gain some inner peace. To this day the horror I witnessed during my creation and the countless deaths that occurred then still haunt me. Back in 1891, they were vivid and terrible, and I know I'd have done all and anything to end them. 

But going back never allows one to go forward. That's a myth fashioned by poets. And I am no poet. All I got from my journey was sadness—the kind that grabs and clings and threatens to drag you down to the shadows of a dark place, where even I, who know much of dark places, am fearful to go.

It was as I turned back towards the city that I saw her, the final nail in the coffin that was my waning affection for London. The Victoria Match Factory employed over a thousand girls and women. The work consisted of tipping match sticks into phosphorus, which, after prolonged contact, caused the bones of the workers doing this to decay. The sight of beggar girls without jaws or fingers was a common one. "Phos girls," as they were known. And it was now that one such poor wretch approached me. The lack of a jaw prevented her from speaking, and instead she mewed plaintively, like a kitten. I had seen such girls before. I had seen them. And I had thought my heart hardened by it, that sight, and everything else.

Yet that night a tear fell from my cheek.

I gave the girl a guinea. More money than she'd ever seen, to be sure.

And I turned and walked from her and from London and from England. Never to return. Opal City had been my residence then, a place where I lived and went forth, visiting London and Paris and Gotham City. But from that moment on, the Opal truly became my home. My place in the world.

*****

It's been an hour since I wrote those last words. In that time, much has happened. I've enjoyed a rather good French wine; this, the perfect complement to my dinner of beef and oyster pie. Also, some lucky citizen of Opal City won seven million dollars in the lottery. And finally…David Knight, this city's current champion, has been less than lucky.

David Knight was murdered twenty minutes gone.

The reports are still vague, definite answers few, but it does indeed appear that David Knight has died. There's nothing I can do about it, of course. Until I know more, it would be unwise of me to attempt anything. And of course, there's the distinct possibility that I won't want to attempt anything, anyway. So for now, I listen to the news reports, and I think, and of course, in my present mood…

…I remember.

Few recall the Starman of the 1950's, but I do. He flew the night skies over Opal for a year and a week, and then died a brave death. Brave and foolish, Ted Knight was still intent on his research. He'd just developed the prototype Cosmic Rod, and I think his mind was wrapped up in furthering that work. He was recovering physically too, from injuries sustained in Washington. Indeed, thinking about it, he looked the worse from that for quite some time. And then he married also, and women will ever be the death of men's endeavors, so who can blame Knight for his time away from the cape and costume.

I've many theories on the identity of the champion who arose to take Ted's place in those days when the Starman of lore wasn't there for his city. Alas, the ultimate answer to that question is still one that eludes me. Perhaps Knight knows. Perhaps one day I'll get the opportunity to ask him. However, it was evident that the 1950's Starman had different powers and a different costume and bore no real relationship to the one before or any since. A riddle surely. A puzzle. Some love such twisted passageways, but I detest them.

I'll know the truth, the whole truth, one day. I will.

But for now I content myself merely to remember.

#starman #james robinson #the shade #richard swift #dc comics #the shade's journal

[horce-divorce]

I am feeling so so very grateful this week for so many things, but I think at the top of the list needs to be my Tumblr friends, esp two of you in particular who are ALWAYS!!!! stepping in to save my ass no questions asked when I need help. I'm so grateful to all my friends who have been here to bear witness to my worst moments and breakdowns and 3am drunkposting and who are still here, some of you after a decade, BOTH celebrating my little wins with me and still responding and somehow maybe even respecting me even though I'm still posting sadboy shit. I'm so grateful to the people who were strangers, then friends, then sometimes strangers again, who opened up their little makeshift homes to me when I had none, who showed me queer community when I had never seen it before and when I needed it the most, I am so grateful to every queer person I've ever met- even in the most brief passing- for forever changing my life. I'm so grateful to have found other people in bumfuck, nowhere who want to build the queer resources we wish we'd already had.

I'm so grateful for my IRL friends who stuck with me thru the distance and the fights and still were here to introduce me to new friends when I moved back home. I'm so grateful for my new friends who are so friggin excited to share their homes and pets and favorite foods and foraging knowledge and camp supplies with me. I'm so grateful to the cis queer friends in my life who understand and celebrate my transition. I'm so grateful to be in Michigan in a time when it's shockingly safe to be queer here compared to other places. I'm so grateful that it was so easy for me to get top surgery- not just the process, not just the relatively easy access to a decent surgeon, but to everyone who immediately stepped up and helped me get all the supplies I needed.

I'm not going into too much detail but when you guys help me, you're helping my friends, too. I think you all know that and I don't have to explain shit like the community $20, you are the ones who taught me that concept. But I WANT you to know, that money doesn't just go to me and my needs. This week I wasn't just recovering from top surgery, I was also sitting with my dearest friend who desperately, desperately needed to feel this sense of community, too. and because of the help I got this week I was able to extend that to him. If it wasnt for you I wouldn't have been able to share that. I really can't tell you how much we both needed it.

the help I got this week- monetarily, materially, emotionally, metaphysically- it didn't just help me achieve and recover from top surgery, it immediately and directly saved two (2) queer lives from being extinguished. you didn't just buy me food and gas. you bought us more time on this Earth. you bought us more time together when we needed it so desperately. It may not be forever, but even if it was only this week, it's a week of time with someone I love very much that I will never, ever, ever take for granted.

I don't know how to tell you all that it means so much more to me than "attention" or "having money" when you interact w my posts and help me out. I wish I had a way of consistently giving you back something that meant this much. I wish I could tell you exactly how it feels and how much it means and I just don't know if we have the words in English. I don't know how to explain after more than a decade and so many irreplaceable friendships made and so many hardships you've all helped me through... I hope the type of community I now know through the internet is something all people can someday find. I hope you know what I mean because I want you to feel it, too.

It's easy to feel lonely when you're touch starved and physically distant from a lot of the people who love you. But I have so rarely felt as held as I do right now. I don't know how to thank you because I can't thank you enough for my life. Happy pride. Please stay safe. Please stay alive. Please be thriving in spite of everyone who's trying to kill us. I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you.

#me #i dont wanna tag anyone but in particular i really need to make sure #indy V and mimi all know that yes I am talking about you specifically #but if you're merely wondering does he mean me also? the answer is yes

[todaysbiggesthits]

The Exam

Best Music Moment of 2023

Code: openly weeping and slyly recording alien boy's set at subT. sitting at sandy liang nyfw spring show and hearing harmony's "i am so lucky and nothing can stop me" while all of the bows in the world traipsed by. witnessing raphael and guillerme's post-dinner mid-80's french pop rock sing along session in chantilly. seeing phish cover "albuquerque" with gd by my side. christmas song jamon with Arden in central park on dec 24.

JD: August: Springsteen's rendition of "Nightshift" at Giants Stadium. October: Something made me want to listen to what I could only remember as a scary Ozzy Osbourne song they used to play on The Bear that went something like "Bury Nation." The actual lyrics upon figuring it out were so much more stupid and hilarious than I could have imagined. Got many delightful yuks and spins out of this jam.

November: Enjoying a wild stew of crass while spinning 100 gecs on my first ever stroll of the Vegas Strip.

Best Shows Seent in 2023

JD: 1. Bruce Springsteen at Giants Stadium 2. Panda Bear and Sonic Boom at Knockdown Center 3. Hamilton Leithauser at Cafe Carlyle 4. The Walkmen at Webster Hall 5. A. Savage at Bowery Ballroom 6. Beach Fossils at Knockdown Center 7. Aunt Puke and Goth Jafar at the Exhaus Latta after party at Jean's

Codeman: washer - alphaville 3EB - salt shed alien boy - subT future trash - subT basement the hold steady - salt shed phish - united center a. savage - bowery ballroom

Confession of 2023

Codem: it took a full eight months of encouragement to finally listen to 100 gecs because i was certain that they were going to sound like let's eat grandma.  i was wrong, they do not.  

Biggest Disappointment of 2023

JD: Happy Mondays cancelling their trip to the US after we were so pumped to get tickets.

Cig: i thought i could hold off on buying tix to see ovlov on a sunday night in chicago only to have the show sell out and i then spent a full 45 days trawling craigslist for a ticket that never appeared.

Most Overrated of 2023

Codem: i zigged when boygenius and caroline polachek thought i would zag

JD: Feel like I should be more into Wenzdee.

Make It Stop 2023

JD: It isn't even make it stop because it's over and there's no going back, but watching Travis Scott's "Circus Maximus" long form film was a fascinating study in the terminal stage of aesthetics that we're living through. Truly the most dispiriting experience of the TBH era.

Codemin: new blink album

Biggest TBH Regret of 2023

Code: not trying harder to see 100 gecs + liturgy in nyc

JD: Second the above. Also got some insane pangs of regret upon seeing the Billy Idol setlist at King's Theater and a clip of "Nicotine and Gravy" from Beck's MSG show.

Detective Murtaugh of 2023

Code: there was a WAOR-type song quoted during phish's tweezer and i cannot for the life of me figure out what it was. i've been wracking my brain weekly, but i can't seem to jar anything loose.  

JD: My most played song of the year was Charles Mingus - "Goodbye Pork Pie Hat."

Resolution for 2023 Status

Codem: -pony up and go see a show at salt shed. fever ray?  How It Went: seent two of em and neither were fever ray?! -load neil’s discography onto my phone. i’m too often humming his tunes and then can’t play powderfinger on the way home from the office. How It Went: subscribed to apple music just to get ol' shakey in my ears again

JD: More Lou. How It Went: Best: Songs For Drella Max Utility: Coney Island Baby Most Desired Cheap Copy at a Record Store: Legendary Hearts

Resolution for 2024

JD: Think I'm going to lean on The Smiths to get me through all the election miz this year.

Code Man: 1) expend similar effort in finding new music next year and try to stretch myself past the usual suspects 2) go to more shows on my nyc wknds

Most Anticipated of 2024

Code: i'm putting all of my eggs in the dom basket, everything else will be gravy

JD: I've got nothing, so let's double the cosmic pressure on Dom.

#Youtube

[dollycas]

2022 Reading Challenges - Wrap Up Post

2022 was a crazy year. I completed most and exceeded many allowing me to jump up levels but I was unable to complete the U.S. portion of my Literary Escapes Challenge. I realized too late with all my other commitments I was unable to add books to cover every state. I need to add those harder states to my reading calendar earlier in the year if I am going to complete the challenge in 2023. Here's my complete list. 2022 Reading Challenge

LORI has read 180 books toward her goal of 175 books. hide 180 of 175 (103%) view books

A. Absence of Mallets by Kate Carlisle B. Bake, Borrow and Steal by Ellie Alexander C. Cold Brew Corpse by Tara Lush  D. A Dash of Death by Michelle Hillen Klump E. Evil Under the Tuscan Sun by Stephanie Cole F. A Fatal Family Feast by Lynn Cahoon G. The Guest is a Goner by Carly Winter H. Have Yourself A Fudgy Little Christmas by Nancy Coco I.  Ice Cold Murder by Michele Pariza Wacek J. Jellies, Jams, and Bodies by Donna Walo Clancy K. A Killer Sundae by Abby Collette L. Laughing Can Kill You by Maggie King  M. Murder Faux Paws by T.C. Lo Tempio N. Night Shift by Annelise Ryan  O. On Borrowed Crime by Kate Young P. Pup Fiction by Laurien Berenson Q. Casino Queen by Cara Bertoia R. Remembering Rosie by Nadine A. Block S. Show Me The Bunny by Laurien Berenson T. The Twist and Shout Murder by Teresa Trent U. Up to No Gouda by Linda Reilly V. The Vanishing Type by Ellery Adams W. Wolf Hollow by Victoria Houston X. X Marks the Spot: We’re All Going to Die! So… What’s for Lunch?  by David Boyne Y. Yoga Pant Nation - Laurie Gelman Z. Miss Zukas and the Stroke of Death Mini Challenges January - And-If-But - Belinda Blake and the Snake in the Grass by Heather Day Gilbert February - Olympics - Stiff Competition by Annelise Ryan March - 2 Word Title - The Match by Harlan Coben April - Birthstones - Ruby Red Herring by Tracy Gardner May - Natural Elements - Dead in the Water by Annelise Ryan  June - Alliterative Title - The Rocky Road to Ruin by Meri Allen July - Party - Celebration - Death Crashes the Party by Vickie Fee August - Book - Handbook for Homicide by Lorna Barrett September - Name - Peg and Rose Solve a Murder by Laurien Berenson October - Ghost/Witch - The Ghost and the Stolen Tears by Cleo Coyle November - Fruit, Veggie, Nuts - The Peach Keeper by Sarah Addison Allen December - Calendar - Once Upon A December by Amy E. Reichert

A. Alexander, Ellie - Bake, Borrow and Steal B. Berenson, Laurien - Pup Fiction C. Cleo Coyle - Honey Roasted D. Day, Maddie - Batter Off Dead E. Ernst, Kathleen - Lies of Omission F. Flower, Amanda - Put Out To Pasture G. Gelman, Laurie - Yoga Pant Nation H. Heather Day Gilbert - Belinda Blake and the Snake in the Grass I. Innes, Louise K. - Death at Holly Lodge J. Joyce St. Anthony - Front Page Murder K. Kate Carlisle - Absence of Mallets  L. Lynn Cahoo - A Fatal Family Feast  M. Maggie King - Laughter Can Kill You  N. Nancy Coco - Have Yourself A Fudgy Little Christmas O. Osler, Rob - Devil's Chew Toy P. Parker, Ann - The Secret in the Wall Q. Jesse Q. Sutanto - Four Aunties and a Wedding  R. Reilly, Linda - Up to No Gouda S. Salem, Cassidy - Fit For Murder T. Tara Lush - Cold Brew Corpse U. Unger, Lisa - The Sleep Tight Motel V. Victoria Houston - Wolf Hollow W. Wacek, Michele Pariza - Ice Cold Murder X. Xarissa, Diana - Boats and Bad Guys Y. Young, Kate - On Borrowed Crime Z. Zunker, Chad - Family Money Complete 9/9/2022

Alabama - Five Belles Too Many by Debra H. Goldstein Alaska - Bear Witness by Lark O. Jensen Arizona - The Tuesday Night Survivor's Club by Lynn Cahoon Arkansas - Hook, Line, and Sinker by Marc Jedel California - Absence of Mallets by Kate Carlisle Colorado - A Hill to Dye On by Rebecca McKinnon Connecticut - Belinda Blake and the Snake in the Grass by Heather Day Gilbert Delaware - Read the full article

#ReadingChallenges

[thegrapeandthefig]

Spiritual protection in the Greco-Roman world

This was this week's hot topic, so I'm using the opportunity to make some things clear from a purely hellenic and historical perspective. Needless to say I am tired of seeing modern magical concepts being slapped on ancient beliefs and I am not writing this post unbiased.

Amulets Etymologically, the word amulet probably means "something that can be carried". It's, personally speaking, my favorite type of protection. Technically speaking, an amulet could, therefore, be a lot of different things as long as they serve two main purposes: tutelage (protection) and prophylaxis (preventive).

Let's go through some of the most common types:

Bulla: typically given to male roman children 9 days after birth. It is worn like a locket where other amulets are placed (typically phalluses).

Lunula: a crescent moon pendant worn by little and young roman girls until their mariage.

Fascinum, tintinnabula and other phalli: the symbol of protection par excellence, found in many shapes and forms. The tintinnabula is more potent, as it also has bells, which are considered apotropaic as well. Bells could also be put around children's and animal's neck for a similar protective effect.  

The Eye (mati): still widely in use, it appears as soon as the 6th century BC on Greek cups. Sometimes added on the phallus for a double protective effect (also true for wings).

Gorgoneion: Often worn simply as a pendant and easily found a bit everywhere, from house thresholds to carved on bullae.

Hercules' Club:  late Antiquity amulets shaped like wooden clubs and most common in Roman Germany between the 2nd and 3rd centuries AD. An examplary speciment bears the inscription "Deo Herculi", thus confirming its link to Hercules hero worship.

Amulet strings: Mostly seen for Athenian children. It is a cord with several amulets attached to it that is worn diagonally (or on the chest) instead of around the neck so the child can't choke on it.

Garter and waist amulet strings: Mostly worn by Greek women. Their function is debated, but it seems that amulets that were worn this way might have had something to do with easing childbirth, menstruation and sexuality in general (eg. to avoid miscarriages or, the opposite, as a contraceptive).

Coiled snake ring/bracelet: Common protection for young Roman women. 

Depiction of gods on medaillons and other objects: quite a straightforward way to put yourself under the protection of a deity. Helios and Semele together seem to both have been a popular choice.

Coins: Especially old reused coins, sometimes pierced in the middle but not always. This is especially the case for coins which have the image of a deity or hero (Alexander the Great got very popular for this function). Other notable examples include Fortuna, Nike or Helios. The image on the coin matters more than the coin itself.

This is not even an extensive list, but it's worth noting that when we're talking about the ancients, we're talking about people who have been put under some kind of magical protection since their first days of life. I personally have used 2 types of amulet cited above so far, a silver coiled snake ring which I worn until it broke, which I replaced by a fascinum. This one travels with me, as I keep it with my apartment keys but I have 2 consecrated phalli in my apartment that also serve a purpose: one to Dionysus and one to Priapus. The latter being by definition, a protective deity. 

Protection starts at the threshold

I know this can be hard to pull off, but in ideal conditions, you’d want to have a small altar or shrine by the main door of your place. Amulets are meant to follow you around, but protecting your space is just as important. In one of the ridiculous arguments I’ve witnessed this week, someone said, and I paraphrase, that “you could have negative entity living in your house and fucking your life up” when trying to honor the gods, which is “why you should banish". The problem here is banish against what? If the answer here is "negative spirits", then, by hellenic standards, this is a whole other process that: 

1) Doesn't happen at the altar 2) Protects the household on the long term instead of a one shot thing

This, alongside other elements of ancient greek theology, is why you don't need to "protect yourself when you approach the gods" and other ridiculous claims I've seen. If you need to protect yourself in such manner, it means you never either 1) developped kharis with a deity to protect you or 2) took care of protecting your place. 

The first protection for a typical greek door would be an aniconic pillar dedicated to Apollo Agyieus aka "of the street" because that pillar was outside of the house. This Apollo, protector of entrances is also called Thyraios in later sources: 

Apud Graecos Apollo colitur qui Θυραῖος vocatur, eiusque aras ante fores  suas celebrant, ipsum exitus et introitus demonstrantes potentem. The Greeks worship Apollo under the name Thyraios and tend his altars in front of their doors, thereby showing that entrances and exits are under his power.

-Macrobius, Saturnalia 1.9.6

It's important to note that the same epithet is attested for Hermes, which makes total sense since he and Hekate are also traditionally linked to the protection of thresholds (represented by hekataia and herms). 

Why am I insisting so much on doors? To quote Johnston: 

"Divinities who guard the entrances to cities or private dwellings would be expected to avert all sorts of dangers that might threaten those dwelling within, from burglars to mice, but in ancient Greece (like many other places), they were particularly expected to ward off unhappy souls and other demonic creatures, who were believed to congregate at entrances for two reasons. First, because inhabitants vigilantly used protective devices to keep them out, these creatures were imagined to lurk near entrances, patiently awaiting those rare moments of laxity when they might dart back inside."

It's important to note that the protection granted by threshold deities, whether it is Hecate, Hermes or Apollo is that it concerns both the mundane and the spiritual, restless spirits are one thing but it seems to extend to general ills.

Conclusion

I should add, before wrapping this up, that there is an evolution in time with how the Ancients considered their protection to work. As such, between the 8th and 5th centuries BC, amulets weren’t so prevalent. The gods were considered the only ones who had the ability to protect. After the end of the 5th century onwards, there is a gradual shift towards a more “DIY” approach to protection, where human action is considered impactful, thus making the use of atropopaic amulets relevant. 

Further reading: 

Faraone C., The Transformation of Greek Amulets in Roman Imperial Times, 2018

Habib R. R.,  Protective Magic in Ancient Greece: Patterns in the Material Culture of Apotropaia from the Archaic to Hellenistic Periods, 2017

Johnston I. S., Restless Dead: Encounters between the Living and the Dead in Ancient Greece, 1999

Kerr M. D., Gods, Ghosts and Newlyweds: exploring the uses of the threshold in Greek and Roman superstition and folklore, 2018

Porto C, V.,  Material Culture as Amulets: Magical Elements and the Apotropaic in Ancient Roman World in: Philosophy Study, 2020

#hellenic polytheism #hellenic paganism #hellenic religion #hellenic polytheistic #hellenismos #ancient magic #greek magic #hekatedeity #apollodeity #hermesdeity #witchcraft #witchy #i can't believe yall made me write this

[nastybuckybarnes]

Of Kings and Beasts  -  Nine

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Fluff, Language, Violence, 

Word Count: 2.9K

A/n: Another chapter is finished!! I’ve got an idea but it’s SO DANGEROUS AND Y’ALL MIGHT HATE ME IF I DO IT BUT ITS SO TEMPTING AND I THINK I’M GONNA DO IT ahem anyway I hope you guys enjoy this!

A/n 2: I’m posting this before work so I’ll reply to asks and comments when I get home tonight! Also, I’ve got the next part of Gangsta written up if y’all want that.... hehe

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

“How have you been adjusting to this new home?” Thor asks one morning, a smile on his face. You grin back at him, the weight of Acadia lifted off your shoulders as you take a sip of your tea.

“Quite well. Although Loki has been an interesting addition.” The raven-haired man looks up from his book momentarily and gives you a look, to which you only smile.

From the moment you entered the cottage you knew it would be good for you to stay here.

“Well, we are at your disposal. I will have to go back to Asgard within the weeks to come, but Loki and the Valkyrie shall remain here should you need or want them.” You nod gratefully, looking out the window and pursing your lips as you watch the women spar outside.

“What? What is it?” Thor asks, following your gaze.

“I want to learn to defend myself. To wield a sword and fight off an attacker.” Loki scoffs from where he sits, his nose still buried deep in his book.

“For what reason should a queen wish to learn to fight? You will always have men for that.” Your defence is up in an instant, and you clench your jaw before composing yourself enough to reply.

“I do think that considering both my upbringing and the way I have been treated in my new kingdom, I have every right to want to learn to defend myself. I have many reasons to want to defend myself, none of which concern you, however, if you had the slightest idea of all that I have endured in my short time as queen you would not question me wanting to learn to defend myself. I have been shunned from my palace because my husbands fear someone will kill me. My own husbands have brought me far more pain than I would like to admit. I have every right to wish to learn how to defend myself and I will not hear a word from you about the subject!”

His brows raise to nearly his hairline and he looks between you and his brother before burying his nose back in his book, which elicits a chuckle from the blond king.

“If the situation is so severe that I need be sent away for my own safety, I need to learn to defend myself.”

Thor nods, a strong hand patting your shoulder comfortingly.

“I knew there was a fire in you. I could see it in those eyes when you spoke of running from the Kings. I just needed to find it.” He rises to his feet and straightens his clothing. “Loki does have a special talent for pulling the fire from even the most docile creatures. But I will go speak with the valkyrie. They will be delighted to have a student to train.”

He leaves the cottage to interrupt the sparring outside, and you feel your heart skip a beat at the first piece of control that you will have over your life.

~*~

“If that will be all, You are dismissed,” King Steven says, his voice low and exhausted. The royal adviser bows then heads to the door, hesitating for a moment.

“Forgive me, Your Majesties, but I cannot help but notice the absence of the Queen. Where has she gone?” It’s not the first time they’ve gotten the question in the week that you've been gone, therefore they already have their excuse rehearsed and perfected.

“We simply have no use for her. If she cannot even bear our children then what use is she to us?” Comes Steve’s practiced response.

“We were instructed to find a queen who could produce strong heirs. Our wife cannot. So she is no longer of use to us,” James adds, his voice dripping in boredom as he looks over a document on his desk.

The royal advisor nods then excuses himself, bustling to his own office with newfound haste and purpose.

“It’s been a week and we are no closer to finding who it is than we were when she was here,” Steve murmurs after a long moment of silence, his shoulders heavy with the weight of their decision.

“I’m beginning to question whether it was a good decision to send her along with Thor. Especially after he threatened to make her a queen of his own. What if she were to agree?” James stands up and walks over to his husband, taking his shaking hands in his own and sighing.

“I would not blame her if she were to agree. We have treated her like a prisoner. I have... brutalized her and beaten her and I will never be able to repent. If she were to want him I would in no way blame her. He has provided her with a safe haven. She can confide in him and trust him in a way that she may not be able to again with us.” Steve sniffles and squeezes his eyes shut.

“We need to find who it is that has caused this and we need to make them pay.” James nods, smoothing his thumbs over the back of his husband’s hands.

“We will. But until we do, we must remain strong. The Doctor is recovering and when he is fully recovered we will ask him who it was that attacked him. We will find who is behind this, but we must be patient.”

~*~

“Again!” You raise your sword just in time to block a blow from one of the Valkyrie, grinding your teeth together as you push her back a step then swipe your own sword at her throat.

She hops backward, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You are learning, Your Majesty. But you still hold back. Why? You cannot be afraid to hurt us,” The Captain says, walking forward and looking at you closely.

“You must show no mercy. Not when you must choose between your own life and the life of someone who means to do you harm. You will fight and you will fight to the death.”

Your entire body is burning with the exertion but you hold your ground, raising your sword and ready to go again.

“That’s what I like to see! Now, we go again!” Brunnhild exclaims, a grin on her face as she takes her fighting stance.

It’s just over two weeks since you began your training and everyone is surprised at how quickly you’re picking up on what’s being taught, but none more than you.

You’re just stepping out of the bath, muscles aching with a new type of strength that the Valkyrie have been beating into you, when your eyes catch a glimpse of movement at the window to your bedroom. A figure clad in all black is moving swiftly away from the cottage and disappearing into the darkness of woods, the setting sun aiding in the camouflage of the person.

Thinking that it’s none other than Loki going to wreak havoc on some poor defenceless wanderers, you don’t question it. Instead, you get dressed into a soft Asgardian gown and start preparing yourself for bed.

You’re just about ready to settle down with a book when a flash of white catches your eye from the window. You hesitantly investigate, heart hammering in your chest as you see a letter tucked securely in the window.

You open it and snatch the envelope before it can be taken by the wind, then shut the window again.

The seal on the envelope is that of Acadia, and your heart is in your throat as you realize that this could very well be a letter from the Kings. You’ve no idea what it may say, and cannot decide if you are more nervous or excited as you open it.

The script is not one you recognize, but your eyes greedily devour every word, the smile fading from your face at what lies on the page in your hand.

Thor finds you sometime later seated on the floor, the letter gripped tightly in your hands and your eyes focused on a point on the wall.

“(Y/n?” He asks softly, knocking against the doorframe to try and get your attention. You make no indication that you’ve heard him.

He enters the room, brows furrowed as he sees what you’re holding. “What is that? What does it say? Is it from the Kings?”

It takes a very long moment, but eventually, you find the strength to speak. But even then your voice is a weak rasp.

“Did you know the truth? Did you hide it from me as well?” Thor is beyond confused as he approaches you, taking the page from you and reading through the contents quickly.

‘Your Majesty,

Do not ask who I am nor how I know where you are, just know that you need be more careful who it is you call your lovers. They have sent you away, not for your own protection but because you failed at the task they wanted you for. They have sent you away because you failed to bear their children, this I promise I have heard with my own ears. I know not what they have told you but it is what I have witnessed. They have said this directly and I have heard it with my very own ears. You would do well to stay away from them, for they are dangerous. But I am certain that you and your late child are more than aware of that.

Consider this a warning, your majesty, for I know you are unsafe. You must take care and be far more careful of who you allow in your court.’

“Loki!” The prince is in the room within the same moment, his eyes full of confusion.

“Have the Valkyrie secure the area and find me the man who sent this! Travel to Acadia and alert the Kings. The Queen is no longer safe here.”

You’re confused. If the kings have directly told someone this, why then is Thor responding in such a way?

Loki is on horseback heading towards Acadia only moments later, and Thor is leaving the room as soon as the Valkyrie enter.

Brunnhild crouches next to you, a frown on her face as she glances at the note on the floor, its words echoing in your ears.

“Do not allow this to scare you, Your majesty. Do not give them the satisfaction of that.” You scoff and shake your head at her, “it is far easier said than done. All my life I have been punished for ever speaking, much less standing my ground. I have perfected the art of cowering, for men wish to do nothing but hurt and maim all so they can gain power.”

She sits down and shakes her head, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it tightly.

“You forget that we are all brought into this world through blood and through pain, your Majesty. We are the daughters of savage women. We are their savage daughters and we will act like it. We will bite and scream and we will take up space. We will not conform to their ideas of what women should be.” Her words are whispered into the still air of the room as if she were hiding them from any listening ears.

“Do not lower your voice for any man. Do not cower beneath them. You are a powerful being. One that can create life and you can also take it away, never forget that.” She pulls a dagger off of her belt and hands it to you, curling your fingers around the hilt before she continues speaking.

“You have the blood of goddesses and witches flowing through your veins. You hold a power that men could never understand. With every step we take, every time we refuse to cower... we honour our mothers, our grandmothers, and the ones before them. The ones who stood and fought and were torn to pieces. We will not be silenced. You will not be silenced. You are more powerful than that. You must remember your strength and your power. Do not let the men convince you that you are anything less than what you are.”

Your eyes sting and your throat gets tight, but she only hugs your shoulders and continues speaking.

“Your power is what scares them. Why else would they try to assert their dominance in such a way? But you will not fall. You will not allow them to treat you like that because you are the daughter of a savage. You are yourself a savage woman and you will act like it. Royal title be damned.”

You sniffle once, twice, three times, then nod, wiping your eyes just as Thor re-enters the room.

The Valkyrie take their leave and the King sighs, crouching down next to you and gently stroking your cheek.

“I’m so very sorry, Petal. You are no longer safe here. If someone was able to bring you this letter then I fear you are in far more danger than we had thought. The conspiracy against the Kings runs far deeper than any of us could have anticipated, and if we are to keep you safe then we must act quickly.” He pulls you to your feet and bustles around quickly, covering your shoulders in a thick cloak and packing a bag of your belongings.

“Wait, where do you mean to take me? If I am not safe anywhere?”

He tosses your bag over his shoulder and grabs your hand, entwining your fingers and giving your hand a soft squeeze.

“The only place you will truly be safe.” You’re still quite confused.

“We make for Asgard.”

#bucky x reader royal au #stucky x reader royal au #bucky x reader royal au #dark!fic #dark!au #dark!steve #dark!bucky #dark!steve x you #dark!fanfiction #dark!marvel #Bucky Barnes x reader dark!au #Bucky Barnes x reader dark fic #Steve rogers x reader Dark!fic #bucky x reader dark au #steve x reader dark fic #king!steve rogers x reader #king!bucky/reader #king!bucky #king!steve x reader #king!steve/reader #royal!au #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #thor x reader

[lokislittlesigyn]

You and Me - Loki x Reader [Oneshot]

Part 2 of Sigyn’s Angst-to-Fluff Drabbles

Inspired by Cozy’s Fluff-to-Angst Fun and Games!

Pairing: Loki / Female reader

Warnings: Strong themes of depression and suicidal ideation/a near attempt. Mention of Infinity War and Endgame and all the things that happen there. Fluff awaits at the end.

Author’s Note: A nearly-impossible prompt to turn happy, but I tried my best without taking an easier route like “it was just a dream” etc! I wanted to give it my all. This is the most.. sensitive-topic fic I’ve posted here, so please, skip it or skim it if you need to. <3

@silver-lupines:

Ohohohohoho Loki’s permanent death and the reader is left as a widow. No resurrections.

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

You still remember it.

You’ll never forget.

Never.

The smell of the air. Thick smoke in your lungs. The colors. The sounds. Death, all around you. Permeating you. You begged for it to end.

He was not so kind.

No, He was not the kind type.

He killed half of every whole. And Loki - Loki had made you feel whole.

What were you now?

You were still a full person, but broken nonetheless. A ghost. Yes, you were a ghost of who you were before. You haunted your own body, desperate for it to stop. Stop aching, stop hurting, stop feeling - let you go, release you to the endlessness of whatever unexistence was, because any unknown it held was surely better than knowing Loki was gone.

You had lived five painfully long years without him. Your husband. The boy you’d known on Asgard, fallen in love with, married and loved and lived through the pain of losing. Twice. 

No, thrice. But the third you had to watch.

You had to watch everything. Leg pinned under the rubble on the Statesman, no more than entertainment for the creatures around you as you screamed at the top of your lungs, unwilling witness to-

You couldn’t bear to think of it.

Sure, you weren’t completely alone. You had your remaining friends: the ones that were not also ripped from you, destroyed for the sake of an asinine plan that made you want to scream and cry and unleash all your anger on the monster who caused it.

You never got the chance.

The others fought. You joined, but you never were close enough to attack The One You Wanted. You were wounded early on. And now He was nothing. No more than dust.

But you felt more despair than comfort.

When the portals had opened, you’d turned, tears pricking your eyes as you scanned them. Loki would be there, you were sure of it. He’d find you. He had to. They knew what he meant to you - they knew to bring him back, too. You pushed through oncoming allies, looking for him. But with every new face you saw only made your heart sink further.

He wasn’t there.

He’d never be there again.

That realization dragged your hope away with it. 

Now you’d made the preparations. Everything was laid out. You even left notes. Your friends would know it was nothing they’d done, because it wasn’t up to them. You didn’t blame anyone that was left. They hadn’t taken Loki from you, that Creature had. And carrying on without him? It was just all too much for you, now - you needed an escape.

But as soon as you closed the door of your room, intent on your next action, someone behind you spoke. With a jolt, you faced them.

“On behalf of the Time Variance Authority, I hereby charge you with crimes against the sacred timeline.”

You went agape. How did they get into your room? Officers of some sort, suddenly standing before you. A glowing orange door pulsated behind them.

This had to be a dream. Yes, you must be dreaming. Your mind was cooking up something bizarre in a last-ditch effort to pull you back to the land of the living. Not that it would matter. The gleaming sword on your bed held promise. You just had to reach it.

“What?!” Was all you could manage. One of the people moved forward, hand outstretched- Now this, this you could do. Life on Asgard trained you for combat. You grabbed them, leveraging your body weight to flip them over. But the other agent swung, hitting you with a baton-

Time stopped.

Or, slowed, to the point that you felt as though you were frozen in place, yet you listened as the one officer brushed themselves off, grumbling about Asgardians, while the one who hit you secured something around your neck. 

“Let’s get her back.”

As you were escorted through the door, you turned and growled in your throat, arm outstretched to grab your sword - but as soon as you were through the door, it closed. 

~~~

The next minutes - hours? - were a blur. You were escorted through a strange place you didn’t recognize - you figured it must be the TVA your captors spoke of, whatever that was - but before you could ask any proper questions, you were tossed into a room. And another room. And another.

In fact, you had been to so many places that were all the same drab beige, and had your clothes removed and replaced with a horrific jumpsuit, you weren’t sure where you were until at last you were taken to a long room, flanked with booths. Down at the end of the room sat someone who was clearly a judge. 

A trial. This was a trial.

So what in Odin’s name were you guilty of?

You were pushed onto a small podium, glaring up at your captor. You’d already tried to escape - but had been overpowered, the collar firmly around your neck offering no chance of liberation.

The woman before you, now clearly visible - or, part of her was, as most of her person was concealed behind the mountain of wood between you. 

She was well-dressed. Professional. Her hair drawn back, her gaze stern. She looked like a leader, and practically radiated power. 

But she was wrong. You were blameless. Why were you here?

“(Y/N) Lokiwife,” The judge spoke, gazing down her nose at you. “Or Leifdottir, if you prefer.”

Your glare didn’t waver.

She cleared her throat.

“You are charged with sequence violation seven-thirty forty-one. How do you plead?”

You sighed. “You must be mistaken. I have done nothing wrong.”

The judge tapped her pen against the paper below her.

“Are you guilty or not guilty?”

“Of a sequence violation, whatever that means? No. No, I am not. I was in my room, minding my own business, when your goons barged in and brought me here.” You clenched your jaw. 

The judge smiled - a forced, strained sort of smile, where her teeth remained hidden behind her lips. You matched her expression with one just the same.

“Those goons, as you call them, were tasked with bringing a criminal,” She pointed the pen at you, “To justice. How. Do you. Plead?”

“Not guilty.” You hissed.

“I highly doubt-”

She was cut off by a new individual running over, whispering into her ear. The judge tensed. You saw her brow furrow, her jaw clench. 

“Thank you.” Her voice was curt.

Silence hung over the courtroom as the other individual left. 

The judge shook her head. “I sentence you as not guilty.” She took her gavel, pounding it in a swift, final motion.

Your breath caught in your chest. “Not guilty?”

“Yes, that’s what I said. Not guilty. I suppose this was all more for formality, anyway;” Renslayer motioned to the trial room and straightened a stack of papers, “You’re merely assurance.”

“Assurance for what exactly?”

“A mission.”

You felt like screaming. Everything was so vague, so mysterious - couldn’t they just let you go? Or else kill you and get it over with?

“Fantastic. Glad to know I can help your cause.” You sneered.

The judge raised a brow, then looked past you. “You’d better be right about this, Mobius.”

“Not to worry, I can handle it from here.” 

A new voice sounded behind you. You whipped around to face it. 

“Woah, hey there.” A man walked toward you, his hands raised. Wearing a suit - much like those you had seen on Midgard, yet somehow different - his short hair streaked silver, a mustache over his crooked-smile lips. Mobius. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“What do you want with me?” You glared, not moving from your place.

“Not one to trust easily. I get it. Listen, I’ve got someone you’ll want to see. But you need to trust me now, okay?”

He held his hands out, palms up. You looked at them. Then back at his face. His brows were raised, he seemed hopeful - expectant. You sighed through your nose, and took a wary step toward him.

“That’s better.” He looked at the judge, pointing at her. “I owe you one, Ravonna. I’m telling you - irreplaceable help, you gave today. Irreplaceable!”

The judge rolled her eyes, but a smile played on her lips.

Mobius turned to you. “Shall we?”

~~

Your next journey was far more welcome. Mobius didn’t manhandle you, thank the Norns, though you did sense the eyes of surrounding agents on you. Agents, dressed in the same black armor as those who had fetched you. You stared ahead, avoiding their gaze.

“Where is this place?” Finally, you broke the silence.

“Where, not what?” Mobius answered, smirking.

“This is the TVA, whatever that means. But where is it?”

“You thinking of running away?”

You looked at him.

“Right. Of course you are.. Outside of space and time, if it matters.”

You raised a brow. “And I’m supposed to believe that?”

Mobius exhaled through his lips, chuckling softly. “Ideally, yeah.” The two of you walked through a corridor, apparently intent on a destination you had no idea about.

“Well- Well why am I here?” You stopped in your tracks. Mobius turned to face you, hands in his pockets. You continued, “The judge ruled me not guilty. Said I was assurance - assurance for what?”

“A mission.” Mobius spoke carefully. You narrowed your eyes.

“What?” He asked. “You weren’t exactly busy.”

“Actually, I was in the middle of something.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I was! I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be anywhere-” You stopped yourself. You felt heat rush to your eyes and nose, but forced yourself to swallow the knot in your throat. You couldn’t, wouldn’t break. Not here. Not in front of countless strangers.

You just wanted to go back to Loki, wherever he was. You didn’t care where.

Mobius watched you. “Come on, I think this will help.”

Giving him a look, you let your shoulders slump, then followed him. Felt your eyes go dull. When you reached a door flanked by two guards, which Mobius quickly dismissed, you straightened up.

Mobius turned to you. “Now, this is going to be a little weird, okay? But bear with me. Just, go with the process, laugh or cry or whatever you need. Got it?”

You stared at him. “I.. What are you even getting at? I told you, I don’t want to be here! I don’t want to be anywhere. I don’t want to be alive, I don’t care if it’s here, or on Earth, or anywhere else, I do not want it-”

Mobius sighed, placed his hand on the small of your back, and urged you into the room, shutting the door behind you. You gasped at the motion and moved to stop the door - but it shut with a resounding thud. Tears betrayed you, streaming down your face. 

“Let me out!” You pounded your fist against the door, “I don’t want to be part of your sick game- Do you understand me? I have nothing to live for, nothing-”

“(Y/N)?” A quivering voice pulled you back to reality.

No, not just any voice.

That voice.

The voice you knew. The voice you missed.

You turned on the spot. Your body froze. There, before you, stood Loki.

“Loki?”

Loki rushed to you. You were frozen, staring up at him. Afraid to touch him. Afraid that if you dared to feel his embrace again he may disappear.

He looked familiar, but not the same as when you last saw him - thank the Norns for that.

No, he looked almost.. Younger? His hair was shorter, not so long nor so wavy as the tresses you remember playing with on the Statesman before He came.

And his clothes. The same as yours: a demeaning jumpsuit. They must’ve put him through all this, too.

What could he possibly be guilty of?

You looked at his face. Your vision, blurry, your body, shaking - you reached for him. He met you. His hand touched your face, cupping your cheek. You felt yourself sob without fully realizing, certainly not controlling it.

He was here. He was alive.

You broke. Melted into his touch, embracing him.

“My love.. Oh, my darling…” His arms enveloped you, his hand sliding to the back of your head, cradling it against his chest.

Your ear pressed to his body, you smiled past your tears, gripping his clothes as though he could disappear at any moment. But you could hear his heartbeat. You savored it, the rhythmic beat, which seemed to steady as you held him in turn. You wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“L-Loki, you.. You were gone,” your voice cracked, “You... He took you from me.”

“I know.” Loki kissed the top of your head, “I know, I saw it all.”

“You - what?”

Loki pulled away, gazing into your eyes, though never letting you go. He swallowed. “I saw it. All of it. My entire life, as it was, apparently, meant to be. I know what you had to endure.”

Tears formed in your eyes again.

“My love, I am so sorry.”

“N-No, I..” You cupped his face, hands stroking his cheeks. One of his hands found yours, and grasped it for him to press a kiss to your knuckles. You smiled. “I have you. You’re back, you’re alive, you…” You huffed a soft laugh and leaned in to kiss him. His lips met yours, and you could feel a tear from his cheek slide onto yours. He broke the kiss, pressing your foreheads together.

“I love you. I missed you terribly. Darling, I can’t express how good it is to see you,” he let himself grin, another tear squeezing out onto his cheek at the movement. He steadied himself, watching you with adoration shining in his eyes.

“I-I missed you too.. Norns, I.. I thought they would kill me or something.. I wished for it.” You swallowed.

Loki’s expression stayed composed, but you saw fear flash in his eyes. Pain. “I heard.”

“I.. I’m sorry-”

“No. You don’t have to apologize for that. It’s not your fault. Neither of us caused the pain we were put through, do you understand? And I am never leaving you again. Never.”

You stared into his eyes. Somehow, the surety with which he spoke seemed… Real.

He wasn’t leaving.

He’d never leave you again.

Silently, you nodded. “And I’ll never leave you.”

He smiled. “I know, my sweet. I know you never will. ”

You remained a moment, until the both of you calmed enough to part - now standing near each other, the tears ceasing. 

You wiped the back of your hand across your cheek. “I can’t believe you’re real,” you joked, weakly, “You’re here.”

Loki smiled, letting out a small chuckle. He gave you another small, loving kiss.

“I’m here.”

#loki x reader #loki x reader angst #loki x reader fluff #loki x female reader #angst to fluff drabbles #tw suicidal thoughts #tw suicide attempt #tw depression

[writingbeary]

Ice cream Incident

Note: Set around Year 2019

────────── ♔ ──────────

The members were on VLIVE to hang out with fans before the fan meeting in the afternoon. They all had an icecream of their choice in hand as they share stories with Atiny to pass time. Minyoung, seated beside Jongho and Wooyoung, was so focused on what Hongjoong was saying that she didn't notice Wooyoung take a bit of her ice cream until it was too late. She gasped, looking at her hand with the cone to find it almost gone.

San who noticed what happened across the table laughed while Wooyoung munches on his loot. Minyoung kept quiet and started eating her icecream, suddenly feeling down.

Hongjoong noticed a flood of comments asking about Minyoung as fans saw what happened and the visible change of her mood was apparent even when she is far from the camera.

Hongjoong sighed turning to Wooyoung “Wooyoung-ah, what did you do now?”

“What?” Wooyoung looked around confused

San snickered bearing witness to all that happened. “He took a big bite out of Minyoung's icecream."

Jongho looked at Minyoung noticing her eyes getting teary “Oh no no. No crying. Young-ah... Should we buy another one?” he asked using his sleeve to tap on her lower eyes, as if to wipe the tears threatening to fall.

“Minyoung-ah, here you can have my icecream” Seonghwa offered the cone to the girl hoping it’ll cheer her up while shook her head finishing hers.

Wooyoung finally realizing that Minyoung wasn’t in the mood to play along with him and the severity of the situation he caused panicked, immediately going over to the girl rubbing his hands together begging for forgiveness. “I was kidding. Oh no. Please dont cry. I was just kidding around! Minyoung-ah. Don’t cry please. Oppa would buy you a new one. What do you want? I’ll run to the store and get it for you.”

Yeosang shook his head at his long-time friend as he thought his jokes finally went overboard. “Get her the same one and apologize to her.”

Fans were amused but also concerned why a seemingly harmless joke and a simple situation made Minyoung upset. Some were saying she was overreacting for a joke while others defend her by saying she is still young and something that seems simple to one person might impact another differently.

“It’s okay Wooyoung-oppa. No need to buy a new one.” Minyoung shook her head, blinking the tears in her eyes. Jongho looked at Wooyoung frowning a bit as if scolding the older guy for making Minyoung upset.

“Sorry. Here you can hit me and then I’ll get you new snacks.” Wooyoung turned Minyoung’s chair towards him as he crouched down offering his arm for the girl to hit. “Or...if you want you can have Jongho flick me on the forehead.” he winced a bit at the thought but gaining your forgiveness is his top priority right now. 

The live long forgotten by the members as they watched the scene before them, half amused that Wooyoung would even offer to get hit by Jongho and half curious how Minyoung would react. Minyoung shook her head and hugged Wooyoung instead and patted his arm motioning for him to go back to hi seat. Confused and concerned that the girl is still mad at him, he returned to his seat but kept on glancing at her.

Yunho who was seating beside him said loud enough for Wooyoung to hear him but soft enough to not be caught on the camera “You bad person. If you will be feeling this guilty then why did you do it?” Wooyoung whipped his head to Yunho’s direction to find him grinning teasingly.

“I didn’t know she wasn’t in the mood to joke around. If I knew, I wouldn’t have done it either.” Wooyoung argued back under his breathe

The rest of their live went by fast as everyone changed topics and directed the focus on the fan meeting that is happening later. Minyoung was still oddly quiet, her head leaning against Jongho’s arm while Wooyoung felt bad that he made her upset, wracked his brain on what he’ll do to cheer her up.

As soon they ended broadcast, Wooyoung immediately ran off with one mission in mind: Buy Minyoung snacks she likes and ask for her forgiveness. He wouldn’t consider the mission a success until she smiles and laughs along with him.

The rest of ATEEZ surprised at what happened chuckled before checking on the girl making sure she is doing okay.

“Bun, is everything okay?” Hongjoong approached the girl patting her head lightly.

“Mhm. I didn’t really mean to be upset. It’s just...it just happened.” Minyoung sighed rubbing her hands nervously “Sorry. I kinda ruined the live. I’m really fine though, oppa.” 

Hongjoong smiled reassuring the girl that she didn’t ruin anything “As long as you’re really feeling okay.”

Wooyoung came back with a bunch of strawberry-flavored snacks and just in time before they had to move to the hall where the fan meeting will happen. Minyoung’s seat is in between Wooyoung's and Jongho's so it was easier for him to hand the bag to her. 

“Minyoung-ah~ Here I bought you a lot of snacks. They’re all yours.” Wooyoung placed the bag on her lap, before taking his seat beside her glancing at her reaction. He wasn’t sure if the girl is still upset and he doesn’t want to risk anything by starting a conversation. Minyoung mumbled a thank you before opening the pack of pepero. She wasn’t really upset at Wooyoung anymore. She was more embarrassed that she reacted as she did, and infront of a camera with their fans bearing witness to the scene.

Noticing Wooyoung’s obvious glances, Minyoung giggled poking his cheek and placing a pepero stick on his mouth. “It’s okay oppa. I wasn’t really upset with you anymore.”

Wooyoung’s face lit up upon hearing that as he munched the snack fed to him. “Really? Am I forgiven now?” 

Nodding, Minyoung smiled and was surprised when Wooyoung enveloped her into a tight hug. “Sorry. I won’t do it anymore Minyoungie~” he said in a voice laced with slight aegyo, the girl only laughing and hugging him back

The rest of the members were relieved that the two made up before the event started. They really didn’t want to deal with a desparate Wooyoung trying to gain the attention of Minyoung, in addition to their busy schedule today.

Fans melted when they saw the interaction between Wooyoung and Minyoung, both on the event itself and people who saw clips on the internet. 

Comments:

[+92] Our baby bunny (mintokki) is forever our baby

[+35, -5] So they already made up? I saw the live and I’m reminded of when my sibling and I fight kekeke

[+40, -2] Jongho looked ready to flick Wooyoung when it happened too lol

[+136] Let us protect these precious babies.

[+5] our minyoungie making 7 men panic when she teared up

[+42, -56] another nickname get for MINYOUNG: UlboYoung (crybaby + minyoung)

This incident would forever be remembered by ATEEZ and the fans as the day where Wooyoung continuously clung unto Minyoung being really affectionate with her while the latter just lets out a smile, giggling from time to time. It is also a moment that the members would bring out as an example, calling it icecream incident, whenever they get into a discussion on who Minyoung likes the best among ATEEZ.

────────── ♔ ──────────

ATEEZ Minyoung Masterlist

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. Any portrayal of real people is a combination based on what we could see on cameras and imagination of the author. This is purely fan fiction written for entertainment. Thank you for understanding.

━━━━━━ʕ ˵• ₒ •˵ ʔ━━━━━━

Writing Beary Corner

Full disclosure. This was going to be a really short post like a drabble or chat type of post at first around less than 500 words then somehow this turned into a 1000+ words post before I knew it. HAHA I also originally wanted to use San as the member who ate the ice cream as this was inspired by their actual live before where Seonghwa just looked to the camera in disbelief when San took a bite out of his ice cream lol

I’ll probably take it slow with the Kingdom updates to avoid spoiling anyone since I tend to write the reactions of the groups for the performance and just adding on to them.

Thank you for reading  ♡

-Mimi

13

#kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez 9th member #ateez oc #ateez au #kpop oc #kpop au #park minyoung #ateez minyoung #minyoung masterlist #writing beary

[elyvorg]

elyvorg’s Great Ace Attorney Liveblog - Case 2-5 Part 1

This is a transcript of a liveblog that I originally did on Discord, having played a fan translation of the first game years ago and knowing a spoiler for the second game. I do not recommend following along with this on your first playthrough!

[[Please also bear in mind that I’ve long since finished the game by now, so if past-me wildly misinterprets something here (and I often did), no need to correct me, I already know!]]

Live reactions: 2-5, beginning

elyvorg

anyway, with that giant textwall [[see the previous liveblog post]] posted, I'm finally going to continue! SO stoked to watch Ryunosuke accidentally stumble his way into implicating Kazuma in the murder, this is gonna be GREAT

ooooooh different antechamber music!

Susato seems distracted, has she noticed what I've noticed

oh wait right her dad thing

van Zieks needs hugs (that he would never accept)

Bench

Indeed he does.

elyvorg

they're really insisting this day is the final trial; do I really not get to defend Kazuma? :(

OH look who's the judge huh

yeah that's not gonna bias this trial or anything

Bench

>:3

elyvorg

oh this is SO corrupt, why is this even happening

all the audience members are Stronghart's minions

Bench

Good luck!

elyvorg

sudden turnaround in thinking: does Kazuma know that Stronghart and co are actually the people he should be going after, and he only pretended to go after van Zieks to get things this far?

Stronghart, dude, you're really speaking more like a prosecutor than a judge here, you're not supposed to join in with the opening statement.

hey, Kazuma, bro, I also updated that autopsy report, you don't get to claim full credit for doing that

THIS JUDGE IS SO FUCKING CORRUPT, STOP GIVING YOUR OPINIONS

seatherny

YOOO i just checked this server first time in forever and am loving the ace attorney love and reactions, hope you don't mind if i pop in to see your reactions to my newfound favorite games in the series

elyvorg

(hello? I see someone new typing here, hi welcome I hope you've already played the game yourself, please don't spoil and have fun seeing me react to the rest of it!)

seatherny

i have! i wouldn't dream of spoiling anything, enjoy!

elyvorg

<3

Bench

Welcome!

elyvorg

oh wow you even have a van Zieks pfp, you really mean it about liking this game heh

seatherny

lol yesss

he needs all the hugs and love

kazuma too

elyvorg

this is very true.

haha, Stronghart acted like it was totally Kazuma's idea to hide this confidential information, and then Kazuma was like "nah it's fine to reveal it actually". Wonder whose idea it really was

awww Gina's so proud that she can read!

Gregson was not there at that club, because he was actually with Kazuma, and Kazuma was somewhere outside of London that day!!!!

seatherny

breaks my heart that gregson and gina never got to live their best detective lives together in france

elyvorg

I am... legit stumped on Gina's first testimony, I don't see anything here I can actually object to, could I get a little hint? (I have revealed the name "The Grouse".)

Bench

Maybe you should re-examine your evidence, one by one.

elyvorg

as in, turn it over in 3D and look at it examine?

Bench

Yeah.

elyvorg

Hmm! Thanks.

I do already have the passport, though, and that didn't work on the Grouse statement.

(Like, Gina doesn't actually have a statement saying Gregson was there, is my thing.)

seatherny

my go-to after re-examining the evidence is to press all the statements a second time

elyvorg

I have pressed everything a second time!

seatherny

dang okay let me press my memory a bit more D:

Bench

I'll say this: It's within the first page and a half of evidence.

seatherny

OH

elyvorg

OHHHHHHH thank you, I found it

seatherny

yes it took me forever to find this too

elyvorg

damn I totally forgot that name had already come up

Bench

Same here. Took me quite a while.

seatherny

there was another one in this case that drove me nuts (won't spoil but am happy to try to help if you also get stuck lol)

elyvorg

glad to have help, that would have frustrated me for AGES

heheee, Kazuma's using our help to get the prosecutor's office to stop covering shit up

he is working against Stronghart as much as he can! look at him gooo

i just... wild paranoid galaxy-braining here, but was Kazuma supposed to be the Reaper's new assassin????

you know, if the crime scene really was on the steamship, it does seem like today couldn't possibly be the final trial, surely they've gotta investigate there, right?

OHHHHH HE WAS GONNA MURDER JIGOKU

that's... not even a Reaper job, that's just a straight-up international assassination, yikes

Bench

>:3

elyvorg

so, if Kazuma was there (which I still maintain he totally was), did he try and protect Jigoku?

van Zieks just casually gonna LEG on the witness stand, love it

"But you're in danger of becoming a far more sinister Reaper yourself..." YESSSS BECOMING THE MONSTERS YOU HATE

(Kazuma please don't do that)

yes totally, the most impartial court right now

were the people on the List not assassination targets, but assassins...?

(still trying to make sense of that goddamn Secret List)

OHHHHHH Kazuma just let on that he knew about the trunk when he shouldn't, right??? >:3

aaaaaaa Ryunosuke's gonna start doubting his friend!!!

"Asa Shinn... the assassin."

*Gina gasps*

yes Gina, such shock :o

but Ryunosuke, you know it couldn't have been Shinn he brought with him, don't you? >:3

KAZUMA WAS ORDERED TO ASSASSINATE JIGOKU I'M SO SURE OF IT OH MAN

can't believe my latest textwall of thoughts has been debunked again

i wonder if it was a question mark there because the entry was written before Kazuma regained his memories, so Gregson didn't know his name

Bench

>:3

elyvorg

oh, man, Stronghart mentored Jigoku, hmmmm that's juicy

there's no way Kazuma actually believes van Zieks was trying to Reaper Jigoku, given that he was the actual fucking assassin

is the Reaper really just one big excuse to assassinate people inconvenient for the British empire, and blame it all on van Zieks?

can't believe I'm circling back around to what if Kazuma actually was faking the amnesia after all, because if he's meant to be like a new Reaper recruit or something like that, surely they'd have brought him here, rather than him randomly showing up of his own accord

oh no Gina ;;

NO DON'T YOU DARE FIRE GINA, she is gonna be the BEST detective, just give her time

NOOOO HER TRUST ISSUES

oh MAN Ryunosuke hasn't let go of that suspicious thing Kazuma said, aaaaaaaaaaa

NNNNNNNNNNGH I WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE BLADE TIP IT'S KARUMA

wow he's just ADMITTING to being the assassin right here

he's still insisting van Zieks did it???

he's gotta still be hiding a bunch about what went down on the boat

(you know like why he slashed Gregson's trunk)

oh shit, IS Jigoku dead? D:

Kazuma, come on, there's a million reasons someone would want to kill the Japanese Minister of Foreign Affairs that isn't just the Reaper

well, this has taken a Turn now that I'm suddenly on the ship. Gonna take a break here for a bit.

(please tell me I'm going to find something that super incriminates Kazuma, I want to get to defend him, dammit)

Interim thoughts/chatting

elyvorg

surely if Jigoku does show up dead, we're going to have to hold another trial for that, right? so this isn't actually the final trial?

I'm also thinking. Whoever the hell killed Gregson (and it wasn't Kazuma because I believe in him), surely there's a significant chance that Kazuma was at least the one who brought his body back and used it to frame van Zieks? (on Stronghart's orders though probably?) which is not murder but also a pretty bad crime. Aaaaaa I don't know

also at this point I suppose I should bring up that it's looking extremely likely that Stronghart is the real leader of the Reaper, obviously, dude is so blatantly corrupt

seatherny

interested to hear what you think of how kazuma is handled by the end

elyvorg

I am expecting to be thrilled by whatever it is, given that you can, uh, probably tell he was already my favourite ages ago.

seatherny

yep! Haha

i don’t blame ya

elyvorg

(have you actually read through my backlog of ridiculously long ramblings oh my god)

seatherny

Lol a little to see where you were in the game when i saw the thread but not all

elyvorg

oh haha, you probably haven't seen my Wild Plausibly-Deniable Spoiler Rollercoaster that I went on yet, then! As in, I was spoiled for Kazuma's survival, but only sort of, in an ambiguous way that could have been interpreted to mean something else, and it resulted in a really Interesting experience of the game up to case 2-3.

seatherny

nope! i spoiled myself on his return because 1-2 felt way too unsatisfactorily Weird but all I knew was “yeah he’s coming back” - all the other facts were super fun to witness as the games went on

elyvorg

I started this thread when I was halfway through case 2, but I'd already played a fan-translation of GAA1 a few years ago so all of the GAA1 stuff was essentially me replaying it with an extremely fuzzy memory of everything except for the broad strokes. The beginning of the thread is quite far back, although I'm pretty sure my density of Things To Say has increased dramatically since 2-3 (hmmm I wonder why), so it might not be as far back as you'd think.

When I played GAA1 for the first time, I totally bought Kazuma's death! Felt very Mia-esque to me. The super awesome idolised mentor character needs to die for the protagonist to get a chance to step into the spotlight, right?

And it still kinda works that way, narratively, because now that Kazuma's back, he is decidedly playing a very different role from the mentor figure. Having him come back only to... continue to be a mentor, would have felt unnecessary.

seatherny

about to leave for appointments but I’ll look after

and I agree, I bought it in that it was an obvious parallel to Mia but the method of death felt… contrived… and his body was moved so quickly and Sholmes is kinda sus and a lot of other things set off red flags! So I got the strong suspicion there was more to it. I think the return worked with the prosecutor role and I thought the character development with Ryunosuke - feeling like an undeserving replacement but diving into the role headfirst anyway - was great.

elyvorg

Maybe I was just so sold by the heartbreaking tragedy of what Nikolina did and Kazuma was trying to help her not turn her in oh god that I didn't even want to question anything else. But good on you for noticing the fishy bits before you had any outside spoiler information!

seatherny

Yeah, I avoided the fan translations and any official/fandom content until the localization pretty well, in case of spoilers. So much so that I didn’t know Resolve was released at the same time until I finished GAA1

elyvorg

bwahaha, that must have been a relief, seeing everything frustratingly end halfway through only to realise that you get to play the second half immediately.

seatherny

yeah my fiancé enjoyed the angry “oh hell no they really just ended game 1 here” texts followed by the ones with all the excited screaming : ‘ )

elyvorg

meanwhile on my end "oh hell no they really just ended game 1 here. i'm not gonna get to see the second half for like. years. welp."

(and naturally by the time this came around I'd forgotten most of the details of game 1 and so had to play it again anyway)

seatherny

the rollercoaster you were referring to was Kazuma's amnesia, right??? i have Thoughts but cannot fully articulate them until you finish the game i think!

tis hard not to actually answer your questions btw :D

elyvorg

nah, the amnesia is a more recent thing, the rollercoaster was about is he actually still alive or not oh god please let him be alive because the spoiler I'd had about that was ambiguous and might have meant something else!

also yes please keep any amnesia thoughts until I've finished the game and can have an absolute 100% definitely correct understanding of what's going on

and yes, all questions should be assumed to be rhetorical unless I very specifically state otherwise! ;P

seatherny

gotcha! this is me then: :x

Interim thoughts: assassins

elyvorg

It's interesting how this trial went in the direction of proving that Kazuma was there with Gregson like I thought it would, but while I was expecting things would erupt into utter emotionally-painful chaos from that point, actually all that happened was Kazuma went, "Yeah. I was there. I was the assassin. So what?"

I also can't help but think that if the regular judge had been here, he would have been all, "I'm SORRY, Prosecutor Asogi, you were the fucking WHAT?!?!" and not let it slide. But instead Stronghart's just here like, yeah, the leading prosecutor just admitted to being ordered to assassinate somebody, anyway, no big, moving on. I wonder who actually gave the assassination order.

I wonder if what's going to happen is that, though Stronghart seems quite happy to turn a blind eye to everything seemingly suspicious about Kazuma right now because they're supposedly working together, at some point Kazuma's going to step just a little too far out of line with his double-agentry and cause Stronghart to retaliate with "you know what? Fuck you, you did it." Putting Kazuma in a position where there's a bunch of super suspicious things around his actions does give him that leverage.

HEY I JUST REALISED ANOTHER THING. The List of Names is a thing, sure, something something Reaper assassins something probably. But also, it was in Japanese morse code, meaning it was a secret message sent to Japan (or from Japan). Someone else other than presumably Stronghart must be in possession of whatever knowledge was in that message, someone in Japan. So... is Jigoku also corrupt, or...?

elyvorg

Not actually continuing yet, got some other stuff to do first, but some more interim thoughts. I'm thinking about who must have actually killed Gregson, and there's literally only three relevant suspects who were on the ship at the time: Kazuma, Mikotoba, and Jigoku. It's not Kazuma because I believe in him, and it's almost certainly not Mikotoba because he's freaking John Watson and we're literally playing as him in this section I just started so I doubt he could hide it if he actually knew about what went down here. So... Jigoku did it, I guess? It's also notable how, in the hotel when they arrived, Mikotoba and Jigoku both expressed surprise that Kazuma was alive when we told them. Except, Jigoku would have almost certainly seen Kazuma during the incident, and he just... decided not to mention it. So that's pretty fishy.

Soooo it's sounding a lot like Jigoku's definitely going to show up dead soon. I was also thinking about Klint's autopsy report and how he was killed with a sword, how about that. So, prediction, for maximum parallels, Jigoku's also gonna have been killed with a sword and it's gonna look like Kazuma did it please I just want to defend Kazuma okay

#ace attorney #the great ace attorney chronicles #the great ace attorney #great ace attorney #elyvorg liveblogs tgaa

[bookofmirth]

everyones entitled to their opinion but the amount of people who have been saying how “confusing” az’s chapter is and how sjm’s a bad writer for writing it that way honestly annoys me? you said you felt vindication when you read it and tbh, same, it confirmed everything i thought since acowar and made perfect sense with what we know of az as a character - that he’s deeply traumatized and incapable of creating and maintaining healthy relationships (as of rn). but beyond that, i dont see how it was unclear in the terms of which ships will be endgame?? before that chapter i was still uncertain and thought it could go either way (tho i was leaning to elucien bc of the already existing bond), and now im pretty certain its not gonna be elr*el in the long term. idk, i just feel like a part of fandom has built their own vision of the characters and future events that isn’t supported by text and now that theyre disappointed it isnt canon, they blame sjm for it? i really dont think it was a confusing chapter at all, i thought her intentions were perfectly clear with the types of tropes she used, i dont think its fair to say it was badly written just bc it didnt support their fanon ideas that was built more on headcanons than actual textual evidence... idk if i sound mean lol but just my 2 cents, obviously it doesnt go for everyone i feel like a certain part of fandom has a certain version of characters in their heads that they consider as canon bc they want to see them that way, but they aren’t really the same as the actual characters we’re presented in their story

Anon, I am going CRAZY over here.

I’ve been trying to figure out why I take on some arguments and others I don’t, and it basically comes down to 1) what is supported in the text, 2) people’s very wild interpretations of the text, and 3) people confusing their interpretation, fanon, what have you, with canon. 

I actually make my students read this article before they respond to a text because it’s super important to understand what, exactly, they (and we) are responding to. It’s nothing to do with literary criticism, but it still has bearings here because people are taking lines of text and imposing these wildly different meanings that have zero support. Like I mentioned in this post, we cannot say why Elain’s face gets tight or she shrinks from Lucien. There is literally no evidence one way or another, so I could that she like....... has a bad problem with farting when he’s around and is embarrassed. And who’s to stop me????

And you’re right, the problem here is that they think they are responding to canon, when actually it’s this wild interpretation of canon that began before acowar even came out, for the sole purpose of furthering hate on Mor. It had nothing to do with actually, genuinely liking it. But it’s grown into this monstrosity we see today and yeah... people are literally making posts where their “evidence” is two people being a room together and noticing that fact = endgame super romantic ship.

And that’s totally different from actually acknowledging the bare minimum of evidence, and saying “fingers crossed I hope it happens because I love it!!” That would be fine. I literally do not care if people do that. I do care when they willfully misinterpret what’s on the page and try to act like 1) they have found facts, and 2) they pretend like that “fact” should have any bearing on what other people ship. 

So, re: Az. 

I literally made this argument four years ago lol and if you read it real quick you can see that that ship came about (in January 2017) not because of all this “evidence” people found in acowar, which didn’t exist yet for us, but before that for other fandom, fanon reasons. 

And since acowar came out, I’ve pretty much avoided talking about Az because I know that somehow, the fact that he’s dark and twisty is.... controversial??? Yeah, I compared him to Tamlin and I still hold to that (I saw a vagueblog about my idea and I still think that comparison is accurate, but anyway). But people just? Don’t want to hear anything like that about Az. Even though that’s literally what we are given.

There is nothing wrong with saying that he’s dark af. In fact, all of the evidence we have from the book is that he is not only dark, but that he is increasingly  losing control. There was the blowup in acowar, and the increased disrespect of Rhys (and Feyre) in acosf, refusal to take orders from someone he is supposedly so loyal to. Even back in acomaf there were multiple signs that Mor was concerned about bruising his ego (literally the first thing that Mor says about Az is that he would want to know something, I’m not going to look it up but the implication was that he would be upset if he didn’t know).

From acosf:

Az had a vicious competitive streak. It wasn’t boastful and arrogant, the way Cassian himself knew he himself was prone to be, or possessive and terrifying like Amren’s. No, it was quiet and cruel and utterly lethal. (pg. 254)

“He’d tortured it out of someone. Of many people.” (pg. 224)

“Some silent conversation passed between him and his mate, and Cassian knew Rhys was asking about the torture - apologizing for making Feyre witness even the ten minutes Azriel had worked. (pg. i lost my place idk)

“Opening movements in a symphony of pain that Azriel could conduct with brutal efficiency. (pg. 375)

So asdkhasldkjasda if only we could STOP saying that Az is actually a dark soft boi and just acknowledge that he’s fucked up and that him being with ANYONE at this point would potentially be harmful to that person, be it Elain or Gwyn or whoever? That chapter did NOTHING but continue a line of character development that had already been in place, and I get the need to romanticize dark boys, but idk, don’t pretend he’s something he’s not.

#acosf #acosf spoilers #spoilers #azriel #ask #okay now I have a meeting lol #anon

[tvandenneagram]

Hi! I was wondering if you are planning on ever typing The 100 characters

Hi, Anon

We’ve been asked for The 100 a few times, so we’ve decided to a quick-typings of the characters. We’ve only seen some of the early seasons and  read a bit about their characters and personality, so we’ve tried to do the best we can with what we know.

NOTE: We will be doing some of the other characters in another post, this is Part 1.

Clarke Griffin: 1w2

Clarke is principled, responsible and self-sacrificing. Clarke has shown time and time again that she believes in saving everybody. She has a strong belief in the greater good and wants to do the ‘right thing.’ Clarke usually thinks before acting, but has been shown to act impulsively in certain situations. Sometimes her moral compass can make her make decisions based on absolutes that can lead to extreme consequences.

Clarke is very idealistic and tries to avoid hurting others if she can. For example, she stops the other Delinquents from killing Anya (their enemy) because it isn’t necessary. However, she does sometimes torture others, especially if she feels it is a necessary evil or if she is persuaded by Bellamy.

1s can become jaded and selfish when they are in the unhealthy levels, which we see with Clarke. After the aftermath of the Second Nuclear Apocalypse, Clarke becomes singularly interested in protecting Madi. Clarke begins to lose her own humanity and begins acting in self-interest, rather than for the greater good. Clarke shows her wing 2 as she is more people-oriented and emotional than a 1w9 would be.

Quotes

“This isn’t about saving my people. It’s about saving the human race.”

“I bear it, so they don't have too.”

"While we're on the subject, why is it that everyone thinks me wanting Jasper to not die is a bad thing? Like I'm such a downer. I can be fun."

“I tried... I tried to be the good guy.”

“Maybe life should be about more than just surviving. Don't we deserve better than that?”

Lexa: cp6w5

This may be a bit of a controversial take on Lexa’s type, as I’ve seen her typed as both an 8 and a 1. However, I think Lexa’s main motivations are to fulfil her duties as Heda and to keep her people safe. Lexa is a very strong and fierce leader, but I think she has to take on these traits to gain respect from her people. 6s and 8s both have a real emphasis on ‘survival’ which is really prominent in Lexa’s character.

Lexa is protective, dutiful, strong and loyal. She is a fierce leader that isn’t afraid to go against the traditions of her people for peace. Lexa doesn’t like hurting people and when she is forced to punish people, she tries to choose the most human punishment. She doesn’t use her power for her own interests or vengeance, as she only punishes people to gain justice for her people. Lexa also doesn’t like conflict and is seen as trying to bring peace to the factions, despite the wishes of those around her.

Lexa was not always closed-off to love and did not always believe love is a weakness. This is due to her relationship with Costia as she blames herself for her death because she couldn’t keep her safe. Hence, Lexa emotionally closes herself off from love under the guise of it being a weakness. This changes when she meets Clarke as she begins to let her guard down a little bit more and allows herself to be vulnerable with Clarke. In her relationship with Clarke, Lexa realises that she is worthy of love and that it is not a vulnerability. Lexa has a wing 5 as she is more emotionally reserved and introverted than a wing 7 would be.

Quotes

"My mistakes? Azgeda cut off Costia's head and delivered it to my bed, and still I let them into my alliance! I am more than capable of separating feelings from duty!"

“I know how hard that is for you. You think our ways are harsh, but that's how we survive.”

“Blood must have blood.”

“Victory stands on the back of sacrifice.”

“Some on my side say that's not enough. They wanted the murderer to suffer as our tradition demands. But they do not know that your suffering will be worse. What you did tonight will haunt you until the end of your days.”

Bellamy Blake: cp6w7

Bellamy is protective, assertive and responsible. Due to his childhood and his relationship with Octavia, Bellamy has always had a focus on seeking safety for himself and his family. Bellamy has a take-charge attitude and isn’t above bending the rules to survive. He is also very loyal to those he loves, and will go to great lengths to protect and help them.

As leader, Bellamy becomes controlling and begins acting in self-interest, rather than for the people. However, he realises his actions are wrong and does feel guilt over the consequences of his actions. Bellamy also did help the Delinquents survive and adapt to the conditions.

Bellamy seems to want to find meaning and something to believe in, which is common for 6s. For example, he accepts the simplistic view that the Sky People are the ‘good guys’ and the Grounder are the ‘bad guys.’ Likewise, after being trapped in Etheria, he becomes very loyal to the Disciple’s cause. This can happen to 6s when they are in the unhealthy levels, as they begin to develop an ‘us against them’ mentality and become obsessed with belief systems. Bellamy shows his wing 7 as he is more expressive than a wing 5.

Quotes

“Who we are, and who we need to be to survive are very different things.”

“I was so angry at you for leaving. I don’t want to feel that way anymore.”

"We all have things to answer for things that shouldn't be forgiven but are. because we did them for our people -- our family."

“I’m not leaving my friends! I can’t do that again.”

“Fears are fears. Slay your demons when you’re awake, they won’t be there to get you in your sleep.”

Raven Reyes: 5w6

Raven was a bit hard to type as she has traits of 1, 5, 6 and 8. I was mostly between 1w9 and 5w6 as she is very concerned with doing the right thing. However, I settled on 5w6 as I think she is more motivated by gaining knowledge so she can be a useful member of the Delinquents.

Raven is intelligent, resourceful and judgmental. Raven is a very useful member of the Delinquents due to her strong intellect. She is also very tough and will not hesitate to do what needs to be done. Sometimes, Raven can be a bit unemotional and seems to use her wit and sarcasm as a defence mechanism. However, as the series progresses we can see the emotional toll her actions has taken on her. 

5s are able to separate their emotions and fears from the task at hand, which we see with Raven. Raven is very mentally strong and is able to overcome many setbacks. She is also not afraid to speak her mind, especially if she thinks she knows more than the others. Raven shows her wing 6 as she is more practical and person-oriented than a 5w4.

Quotes

"It's not your blood that defines you. It's your heart."

"I can barely walk, and my shoulder's killing me. But, my brain is all kind of awesome."

"Well, my mom was AWOL most of my life. When she did show up, it was empty-handed. Pretty sure she had me just to trade in my rations for moonshine."

"Everywhere you go, death follows. You always want to save everyone. What you don't realize is you're the one we need saving from."

#the 100 #clexa #the 100 cw #tv #bellarke #the 100 clexa #clarke x lexa #clarke x bellamy #clarke x finn #clarke griffin #bob morley #bellamy blake #commander lexa #enneagram #eliza taylor #the 100 enneagram #type 6 #type 1 #type 5 #6w5 #6w7 #cp6w5 #cp6w7 #1w2 #5w6 #alycia debnam carey #personality types #character analysis #cw #raven reyes

[allgirlsareprincesses]

The Death of Love and the Lonely Soul: Eros and Psyche in a Post-TROS World

This is the first of my follow-up posts to my series on Folktale Types in Star Wars, focusing on how the Sequel Trilogy retells (or fails to retell) the Eros and Psyche myth, and the potential psychological implications for our culture. This essay will frequently reference my original Reylo as Eros and Psyche post, though I will also occasionally refer to my other Search for the Lost Husband posts (2) (3) (4), so please consider reading those before diving in here.

To explain why I had a great deal of confidence in TROS being a classic happy ending to a Search for the Lost Husband tale (ATU 425), I have to share a little bit of what I learned about how folklorists view these tale types. A century ago, the popular theory about why myths and folktales were so similar all over the world was evolutionary: it assumed there was one origin tale, and that as humans traveled, they would carry the story with them and it would be retold and adapted by other cultures. This suggested there was one ancestral tale from which all the others developed, which accounted for the recurrence of the story’s basic plot and motifs.

Since then, however, advancements in anthropological research and the increasing appreciation for folklore in the study of human psychology has debunked the old evolutionary theory. It was discovered that cultures and societies existing at the same time in history, on opposite sides of the globe and which could have had no possible contact with one another, still told the same tale types with the same motifs. Details might be changed, but every culture had animal husband tales, or animal bride tales, and so on. This led to the now widely-accepted idea that universal human psychology accounts for the similarity in folktales. Basically, all humans tell each other the same stories because we all wrestle with the same fundamental truths, challenges, and transitions. This is why the swan maiden tales can be traced to male anxiety over sexual performance or the prospect of losing a wife in childbirth, or why animal husband tales can be traced to female power fantasies of taming a mate in a patriarchal society.

Based on all this, I assumed that even if Terrio and Abrams made a typically vapid modern action flick, they’d still hit all of the main beats of the Eros and Psyche myth because that’s what would come naturally to them. Obviously, Beauty’s love will return the Beast to his human form. Obviously, Psyche will complete her journey from child to adult and take her place as the true or metaphorical mother to the next generation. Obviously, they will end the story united for eternity to signify the end of the galaxy-wide conflict and the beginning of the true peace so long sought by the heroes of the Skywalker Saga.

While this was true to a limited extent in The Rise of Skywalker, several of the reveals and the final moments of the film not only departed dramatically from the structure of the Search for the Lost Husband myth, but the movie even fails to align with the commonly more sorrowful Quest for the Lost Bride. In a cruel and baffling twist, the story erases its hero and returns its heroine to childhood in a barren underworld. There is, frankly, no historical folktale I can find that matches this pattern. Even stories featuring preadolescent children are about disassociation from parental figures, not deeper dependence. (Note: Marie-Claire and Ty Black of What The Force and Wit and Folly have done some exploration of how TROS reflects the so-called “American Monomyth.” This is a valid interpretation but for the purposes of this analysis, I’m continuing to use stories more commonly recognized by the Aarne-Thompson-Uther classification of folktales.)

Rey’s Regression and Psyche’s Tasks

As a quick refresher of where we stood in alignment with the myth by the end of The Last Jedi, Rey is the mortal woman Psyche, and her force powers are akin to Psyche’s beauty in the myth. Kylo Ren/Ben Solo is god of desire Eros, Psyche’s husband and the son of god of war Ares and goddess of love Aphrodite. In Star Wars, it is the Dark Side and dark force users who play the part of Aphrodite herself, attempting to control Ben Solo and jealous of the powerful Rey. The symbolic marriage of the lovers has unmistakably occurred multiple times, but when Rey attempts to force Ben into the light and to accept his true identity, he recoils and they are separated. She has broken the taboo of seeing his true self, and so her animal bridegroom has fled to the safety of the Dark Side, or “his mother’s house.” Finally, all of Rey’s illusions, help, and protections have been stripped away, so she must now learn how to rely on herself to obtain what she desires. When Rey discovers her own worth, independent of anyone else, she will achieve womanhood. When Ben Solo accepts his full humanity, both dark and light, he will achieve manhood. Together, they will reach adulthood.

At the beginning of TROS, we may already suspect some trouble. Rey seems to have regressed to a childlike dependence on mentors, being trained as a Jedi by Leia in an attempt to “earn” Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber, even though she has used it without permission for two movies so far. Given the saber’s symbolic role as a phallic motif, this also suggests sexual repression or another reversion to a childlike state, especially considering the sexual awakening Rey experienced in TLJ. Ben, meanwhile, has also regressed to a dogged commitment to the dark side, seeking to remove any “threat to his power.” Still, there is time for the couple to recover their lost ground and achieve maturation in the course of the film.

In Apelius’ tale, the enraged Aphrodite confronts Eros about his marriage to Psyche:

“What! Is it she - the usurper of my beauty, the vicar of my name?…. Whereas thou shouldst have vexed my enemy with loathsome love, thou hast done contrary. Being but of tender and unripe years thou hast with too licentious appetite embraced my most mortal foe, to whom I shall be made a mother, and she a daughter. Thou presumest and thinkest that thou art most worthy and excellent, and that I am not able by reason of my age to have another son; which if I might have, thou shouldst well understand that I would bear a more worthier than thee. But to work thee a greater despite, I do determine to adopt one of my servants, and to give him these wings, this fire, this bow and these arrows, and all other furniture which I gave to thee -- not for this purpose, neither is anything given thee of thy father for this intent, but thou hast been evil brought up and instructed in thy youth.”

If we are to say that Palpatine fulfills the role of Aphrodite in this story, then a few things stand out: One is that Palpatine (and Snoke, given that they are one in the same) views Kylo Ren as a failure, recognizing his feelings for Rey. Darth Sidious sees Rey as a threat, and is both jealous and fearful of her power, of being “usurped” by her. Further, though it is not immediately clear that Palpatine intends to replace Kylo with Rey as his new host, it does become evident through the course of the story that he wants only revenge on Ben Solo. This idea of replacing Ben with Rey, though characterized as a Dark Side concept at first, becomes especially tragic later in the film when it seems that the Skywalkers have done exactly that. Finally, there is the affirmation that Ben “has been evil brought up and instructed in [his] youth,” when Palpatine tells him that he has been “every voice inside [his] head.” This suggests that Ben/Eros is evil as he has been raised that way from childhood, removing a degree of culpability for his nature.

Still seeking her lost husband, Psyche seeks out Aphrodite herself, who drags her by the hair as her maidens, Sorrow and Sadness, abuse and torment Psyche with whips and rods. The cruel goddess then gives her wretched daughter-in-law the first of her impossible tasks, demanding that Psyche sort a pile of grains and seeds in a single night. Though Psyche completes this task and a further two (gathering the golden fleece from vicious rams and collecting water from the mouth of the River Styx), she often despairs of success, twice attempting to fling herself into a raging river to escape her agony.

In TROS, Rey is similarly tormented by loneliness, as she tells Finn that she fears no one knows her. Though she meets with success in most of her efforts to chase down the film’s several McGuffins, she also seems to despair and give up more than once, most notably when she flees the scene of her oceanic battle with Ben on the ruins of the Death Star.

As for the tasks themselves, these appear differently in variations of the Search for the Lost Husband, but usually involve the heroine questing for her lost love, collecting objects and accepting help from various magical figures on her journey. By contrast, Rey does not seem to really seek Ben at all throughout TROS, as she consistently rejects him and is the aggressor in all of their confrontations. Though she collects objects and accepts help from other characters, including Force Ghost Luke, this assistance is always intended to help her defeat Palpatine, not recover Ben. I could come up with some tortured analogies between Rey’s mini-quests and Psyche’s labors, but truthfully I think those would be forced as the movie departed farther and farther from the mythological framework.

The Death Star Fight and the Revival of the Prince

Still, other aspects of the ATU 425 folktale type are distinctively present. Just as the Beast repeatedly asks Beauty for her hand in marriage, so Kylo Ren repeatedly asks Rey to join him on the Dark Side. With the words “take my hand,” this is explicitly presented as a proposal of romantic union, and just like Beauty, Rey repeatedly refuses, particularly as Kylo clings to his beastly form in the repaired mask. This brings us to the sequence which is on the one hand most aligned with the myth, and on the other hand serves as the most ominous sign of the lovers’ eventual fates: the confrontation on the Death Star.

The problem with this scene is that it can be interpreted as two different pivotal moments in the folktale. Firstly, recall that the turning point in the Search for the Lost Husband is the breaking of the taboo and concurrent wounding of the enchanted husband: The heroine, armed with “flame and steel,” attempts to look upon her husband’s true form. In some variations, she intends to kill him if she discovers a monster. However, when she finds a handsome prince instead, she is stricken with love and accidentally wounds him with hot oil or wax, signifying her perceived betrayal. Though we have already seen this in the previous films (in Rey’s slashing of Kylo’s face on Starkiller and again with her calling him by his true name in the flaming throne room of the Supremacy), it seems that this event is playing itself out yet again. Using Kylo’s own lightsaber (flame and steel), Rey stabs him with a mortal wound even as she is reminded of his true identity through the sensation of Leia’s death. Not only would it be odd to repeat the breaking of the taboo yet again in this story, but instead of the husband fleeing as he typically does at this point in the Search for the Lost Husband, it is Rey, the bride, who flees.

The other event that frequently occurs in this tale type is the revival or healing of the prince. And indeed, this is exactly what happens in the Death Star scene. Rey’s stabbing of Kylo Ren, though in my opinion out of character, is consistent with the violent means some folktale heroines use to transform their beastly husbands. For example, in The Princess and the Frog, she throws her amphibian suitor against a wall, causing him to retake his princely form. Other brides burn their husbands’ beastly skins, forcing them to remain human evermore. As I’ve said before, Kylo’s lightsaber is symbolic fire in Star Wars, so Rey stabbing him with it is akin to burning his beastly skin, forcing him to again become Ben Solo. It also can be considered the moment that she makes a blood sacrifice to recover him. Then, still surrounded by water (Rey’s element throughout the trilogy and also associated with healing and cleansing), our heroine heals the prince of all his wounds, including the scar she had previously given him. This is absolutely consistent with many folktales, among them Pajaro Verde and The Ballad of Tam Lin.

Further, Rey’s healing of Ben is a callback to her healing of the alien serpent she found wounded on Pasaana, a shockingly unsubtle analogy for Ben. In Apelius’ narrative, Eros himself is sometimes referred to as a serpent, and it is very common in other animal husband tales for the prince to marry his bride in the form of a serpent, as in the Italian tale The Enchanted Snake. This is usually interpreted to be a fairly obvious phallic symbol, representing the heroine’s sexual initiation or in this instance, simply the masculine power to the heroine’s feminine. We have previously heard Rey refer to Ben as a “treacherous snake,” so it’s obvious that her healing of both the snake and Ben himself is her healing the Wounded Masculine. Finally, Rey tells him she “wanted to take [his] hand, Ben Solo’s hand,” which is again a seemingly direct reference to Beauty finally agreeing to marry the Beast in order to bring him back from death.

Despite the close alignment of this scene with the revival motif in the Search for the Lost Husband, there is one glaring issue: that event always occurs at the END of the story. The revival of the prince is the final step in the searching bride’s journey, when she claims him as her true husband by drawing him back from death or a similarly dark fate. It is a testament to her power and her love, and it demonstrates the final transformation of the prince and his worthiness of his bride. It is most definitely NOT common for the bride to again flee after reviving her lover. Again, despite the fact that Abrams and Terrio are (likely unintentionally) using many classic ATU 425 motifs, the reordering of them is disorienting and unsettling.

Rey in the Underworld

Psyche’s final task in her story is to descend to the Underworld to gather a little bit of Persephone’s beauty for the jealous Aphrodite. Despairing of any way to get there and return safely, Psyche prepares to kill herself, but Eros speaks to her through an enchanted tower, instructing her to use certain objects to pass safely. He also tells her not to eat any food of the underworld, nor to open the box of beauty Queen Persephone gives her, or else she will not return. Psyche follows all of these instructions carefully, until she has nearly completed her task, and the temptation of opening the casket is just too great. She opens it thinking to take just a little beauty to please Eros, but inside she finds only the Stygian Sleep of the dead, and she falls down lifeless. Eros immediately flies to her side and wipes the deathly sleep from her eyes, reviving her and taking her in his arms. He then appeals to Zeus, who agrees to make Psyche immortal so that she and Eros can never be separated.

In TROS, the underworld is the planet Exogol, where lurks the personification of the Dark Side, Darth Sidious. In Star Wars, power is analogous to the beauty that is so coveted in the Greek myth, so the characters are all drawn to Exogol in a final struggle for ultimate power. Like Psyche, Rey has a moment of despair when she exiles herself on Ahch-To, thinking that she cannot possibly defeat the Dark Side. Oddly, instead of Ben Solo speaking to her through the Force Bond, which would more closely follow the myth, the person encouraging Rey in this moment is Luke Skywalker, her erstwhile reluctant mentor. He does indeed give her special objects to help her pass into Exogol (the lightsabers and his miraculously-preserved X-wing) and he advises her to confront her fears.

Another way to interpret this scene is as yet another instance of the heroine returning home to her suspicious family, where they poison her mind against her beastly lover. In Eros and Psyche, East of the Sun and West of the Moon, Pajaro Verde, Beauty and the Beast, and many others, there is always a moment when the heroine goes home to her family and receives dangerous advice warning her against trusting her husband, or attempting to keep her longer than she promised. I’ve argued before that this already happened in TLJ with Luke, when he repeatedly warned her away from her own dark side and from Ben Solo. Yet, it seems we again tread over familiar ground, with Rey’s flight to Ahch-To in TROS appearing as another regression of her character.

Rey flies to Exogol and attempts her final task, which is to defeat Palpatine. When he threatens her friends, she agrees to kill him in order to become empress (I really can’t type this nonsense with a straight face), which will make her the heir of death itself. Then, transformed Ben Solo comes charging in heroically to save his love, unwilling to let her face her final trial alone. Unfortunately, Palpatine sucks the life force from both lovers without much difficulty, then chucks poor Ben off a cliff. Rey is forced to defeat Sidious without her soulmate, though apparently a bunch of Jedi she doesn’t know are happy to give her a pep talk and make her “all the Jedi.” After finally destroying(?) Palpatine, she then inexplicably drops dead. Like Psyche, Rey has completed the final task but also taken the contents of the box (in this case, the power of “all the Jedi”) for herself, and as she is mortal, it is too much for her and she dies.

Just like Eros, Ben claws his way to his fallen lover’s side and gathers her in his arms, determined to retrieve her from death. Alive again, Rey calls Ben by his true name and professes her love in a passionate kiss. But whereas Eros then makes his soulmate immortal so that they can never be parted, Ben’s revival of her results in his own death, and the couple is again separated. Though redundant, it would be consistent with the folktale pattern for Rey to resurrect her prince in this moment. Instead, we see his body fade away, with no indication that our heroine clearly understands what has happened or really cares.

In each version of the Search for the Lost Husband, the heroine is a mortal woman who wins the love of a prince or even a god, and her final reward is to be elevated to royalty, or to immortality. Psyche becomes a goddess in her own right, dwells in the heavens, and gives birth to a daughter named Joy. Eros and Psyche, Desire and Soul, when united produce Joy.

But Rey is not united with Ben, in the end. In fact, with a royal heritage of her own, she doesn’t really need to be elevated any more. You could argue that she claims a more elevated title when she takes the Skywalker name as her own, but she still ends up alone, with only ghosts of someone else’s parents and her robot familiar for company. Rather than ascending to a throne or to the heavens, she literally descends into a ruin, a literal graveyard, in a barren wasteland. Her mythical husband is nowhere to be found, and there is no hope for a child. In a cruel and bizarre twist, TROS tells a fairly faithful final chapter of Eros and Psyche, only to strip its heroine of all she has sought in the last moment, leaving her bereft. And yet, the filmmakers dressed this as a happy ending.

TROS as an Allegory of the Lost Soul

Given how frequently the Eros and Psyche tale is used as a basis for psychoanalytic theory, what implications might this film have when viewed through that lens? In Jungian psychology, the human psyche can only achieve individuation - the knowing of oneself as a separate and unique person - if it can be separated and differentiated from the uroboric figures of parents, siblings, and mentors. Eventually, the repressed Shadow must be integrated into the Self in order for one to be a whole and healthy adult.

Within this framework, Psyche is a human soul trapped in a state of unconscious, lacking knowledge of her Shadow and therefore lacking agency. Eros is the Shadow, a collection of repressed desires which Psyche both fears and desires to claim. Her act of heroism is that same wielding of lamp and knife where she faces the truth, strips away her own illusions, and sees her Shadow for what he truly is. Psyche’s refusal to continue living a lie, and her subsequent pursuit of her desires leads her to achieve individuation signified in the product of alchemical union, Joy.

Up until the events of TROS, both Rey and Ben Solo were on this journey. Rey was trapped in a state of childlike unconscious in the graveyard of Jakku, having repressed the dark memories of the parents who abandoned her. In TFA, things tended to happen to her, but she rarely drove the action of the story herself. However, at the end of TLJ, she separated herself from the influence of uroboric mentor Luke and pursued Ben Solo, determined to truly see and claim her dark desires. With flame and steel, she stripped away the dark mask around him, but he also forced her to admit the truth about her parents to herself. Ben Solo, her animus, the projection of Rey’s unconscious, stood before her and forced her to bring what she had repressed into her conscious reality. Only then could Rey “let the past die,” separate herself from her parents, and “become what [she was] meant to be.”

Mirroring her journey, Ben was also trapped in a state of unconscious in the underworld of the Dark Side, having repressed his inclinations to the Light and to reconciliation with his family. His effort at separating himself from the influence of his mentors had a false start at first, as he mistakenly believed that he needed to “let the past die,” separating himself from his family and from the Light. With flame and steel, Ben killed his father, but to his horror, he realized that this did not rid him of his deepest desires. In TLJ, he got a second chance to separate himself from the controlling mentor by killing Snoke. Had he at that time faced his desire for the Light and acknowledged his true identity, he too would have been closer to individuation. Ben’s anima, Rey, stood before him calling him by the true name he had repressed and begging him not to stay in the Dark.

From this basis, we might assume that Rey, freed from illusions, would pursue her wayward Shadow in an attempt to integrate him. Ben, only a few steps behind, might finally accept his identity and his desire for love and affection, unite with Rey, and they would both achieve individuation, rewarded with Joy. In fact, for Ben Solo, most of this story does indeed occur in TROS. When Rey heals him and declares that she did want to take Ben’s hand, he is forced to finally face and accept his true identity. He then projects a memory of Han Solo, representing his repressed desire for the love of family, and he reconciles with himself. He then pursues his desires by running to Rey’s rescue, finally freed to act according to his own wishes. Does he manage to truly unite with her and achieve joy, though? More on that in a minute.

Rey, for her part, suddenly undergoes a regression into her unconscious state. Rather than becoming a unique and separate person, she again defers to mentors, training with Leia and claiming that she will “earn” Luke’s lightsaber. Consider that by the same point in his own journey, Luke was specifically defying the advice of his mentors, Yoda and Obi-Wan, who were advising him to kill his father and bury his feelings. They were of course proven wrong by the narrative, and Luke was validated. As the hero of her story and as a human psyche on its way to individuation, Rey should have separated herself from her mentors and the story should have validated her unique strengths and perspective. Instead, Rey’s success and heroism DEPEND on Luke and Leia, even to the end. In many ways, she is an avatar of her mentors more than a heroine in her own right.

The other way in which Rey regresses is in her discovery of her true parentage, as she is forced again to consider her identity as a child, an extension of the parents who (supposedly) loved her and the grandfather who might be the true source of her darkness. Recall that the action that launches Psyche’s journey into consciousness is a refusal to continue living a lie. Rey achieved this step in TLJ when Ben forced her to admit the truth to herself about her parents. Though it was painful and led to the loss of her lover just as with Psyche, it was necessary for Rey for understand that she could forge her own identity without relying on the false family she had built in her mind.

In TROS, not only is she unable to differentiate her identity from her mentors, she now has multiple new parental figures to contend with. Having accepted the truth of her deadbeat nobody parents and the losses of Han and Luke (and eventually Leia), she must now reconcile with loving somebody parents as well as having a grandfather who is basically the Satan of the Galaxy Far Far Away. Further, it seems she has been training herself to contact the spirits of many Jedi who have passed into the Force, all of whom also constitute mentors or parental figures. Rather than discovering how she is unique and what she might want in her adulthood, Rey is positively drowning in parents against whom she is derivative, still just a child.

Still, all of those parental figures are dead or die in this movie, which is traditionally one way that mythical children separate themselves from their mentors in coming-of-age tales. Theoretically, there should have been time for Rey to discover who she is apart from all these characters, decide she wanted something different out of her life, and then pursue and achieve it as heroines do. Unfortunately, we never see that happen in this film. At every point in her TROS journey, Rey is doing what a mentor instructed her to do. She’s following Leia’s guidance, or Luke’s guidance, or Palpatine’s…. In the end, it is Luke who is validated by the narrative, not Rey. She brings nothing new or unique to the galaxy, nor does she seem to have intense desires that would oppose what these mentors want for her. Yes, she did want to take Ben Solo’s hand, but she’s not on a mission to save him and she barely reacts when he gets tossed down a pit. Unlike Luke, who was determined to save Vader in spite of what everyone told him, Rey meekly follows her elders like a good girl.

In The Myth of the Birth of the Hero, Otto Rank says:

"The detachment of the growing individual from the authority of the parents is one of the most necessary, but also one of the most painful achievements of evolution. It is absolutely necessary for this detachment to take place, and it may be assumed that all normal grown individuals have accomplished it to a certain extent. Social progress is essentially based upon this opposition between the two generations. On the other hand, there exists a class of neurotics whose condition indicates that they have failed to solve this very problem."

Others have pointed out that Rey’s failure to reach full sexual maturity is also demonstrative of this problem, as evidenced by her virginal white ensemble, tight childlike buns after the soft long hair of TLJ, and loss of her intended mate at the end of the story. Rey’s journey to womanhood has been arrested in every way, but the ultimate illustration of this tragic regression is her slide down the sand when she arrives on Tatooine. To so perfectly mirror her childlike introduction on Jakku, without any reference to the later experiences that drove her toward adulthood…. It frankly suggests nothing so much as a psychotic break. In Jungian terms, Rey has been unable to break from the uroboros or collective unconscious, or to integrate her Shadow. In the loss of Ben Solo, she was unable to embrace her desires, and in taking the Skywalker name, she again lies to herself about her identity, repressing her connection to Palpatine and choosing instead a false family just as she did back on Jakku. Rather than the soul finding its way into consciousness, it is forever lost in the vast unconscious.

In a sense, Rey was not really revived after retrieving power from the Underworld after all, because she is metaphorically dead at the end of her story, just as she was metaphorically dead at its beginning. Living in the Imperial graveyard on Jakku, she had survived by remaining necessarily focused on herself. At the end of her story, she seems again focused inwardly, retreating from the galaxy and her friends, with no need to compromise or give of herself in a loving relationship with her soulmate. In Love and the Soul: Psychological Interpretations of The Eros & Psyche Myth, James Gollnick writes:

“Neumann interprets the beauty ointment which Psyche must fetch from the underworld as the eternal youth of death, the ‘barren frigid beauty of mere maidenhood, without love for a man, as exacted by the matriarchate.’ He sees in this deathlike sleep the pull of narcissism which would regress Psyche from the woman who loved Eros back to the maiden lost in the narcissistic love of herself. (Bettelheim also calls attention to the narcissistic state symbolized by Psyche alone in Eros’ magical palace, see The Uses of Enchantment.)”

This is to say that conjugal love, or a love that is physical as well as spiritual, is the ultimate form of self-gift. Though the sacrifice of one’s life is an admirable expression of love, it is inferior because it creates death, whereas the giving of self in an intimate embrace creates life. Hence, Eros and Psyche’s union created Joy. Has Rey found joy by the end of her journey? Or is she expected to be content with only power and the name that declares that power? And as for Ben, he has vanished completely. As Eros, he is dead and unable to be united with his Psyche. Though transformed from beast into man, Love is eternally separated from Soul.

When the Lost Husband Stays Lost

This might be a passable interpretation of the Sequel Trilogy, but it’s fair to ask the question: were we wrong? Was this ever a Search for the Lost Husband story, or did we simply see what we wanted to see in the tale? Indulging deeply in a Death of the Author approach to interpretation, I argue strongly that this was always a variation of ATU 425, because not only were all the pieces in place from the beginning, but the Sequel Trilogy was thematically the perfect inverse of ATU 400, the Quest for the Lost Bride, which was very clearly the story of the Prequel Trilogy. Further, many a mythical husband’s failed quest is actually the prelude to his bride’s successful search, as historical myths often start with the loss of the fairy wife only to switch perspectives to the feminine and have her successfully retrieve her lost husband. To the extent that Star Wars draws on the collective unconscious that produces these myths, I believe the parallels are unmistakable.

Still, these are films released by a corporation within a very distinct culture, the product of a particular time and place. They cannot be separated from the realities of the 21st Century America that produced them. This is why a deeper exploration of the American Monomyth is likely necessary to truly understand how TROS came to be. However, even within worldwide mythology, there are isolated examples of Lost Husband stories in which the bride does not retrieve her husband, or in which the couple remains separated by the end of the story.

One of the most notable examples of these tragedies is the Lohengrin Saga, a Germanic romance made popular by Richard Wagner’s opera. In it, Elsa, the Duchess of Brabant, is accused of murdering her brother, her case to be decided by trial by combat. When her accusers ask her who her champion will be, she tells them of a knight who has appeared to her in dreams. In answer to her prayers, her dream knight appears in a boat drawn by a swan, then agrees to be her champion under the condition that she never ask his true identity or origin. The swan knight wins the contest and marries Elsa, but before they are able to consummate their union, she asks him the forbidden question. Though he knows it will separate them forever, the knight cannot deny his love her request, and he admits to her that he is Lohengrin, Grail Knight and son of King Parzival. The laws of the Holy Grail say the Knights must remain anonymous, and if their identity is revealed, they must return home. Lohengrin leaves in the same boat in which he came, and Elsa dies of grief.

Many of the parallels should be instantly apparent: just as Kylo Ren often appears to Rey in visions, dreams, or in a dream-like state, so the Swan Knight first appeared to Elsa. As I stated in my Swan Maiden post, this means Kylo Ren is Rey’s incubus, or her dream lover and avatar of all her dark sexual fantasies. Just as the swan knight refuses to reveal his identity, so Kylo Ren declares that Ben Solo is dead and he is a monster. Further, the knight is a descendent of a powerful family, indeed one with mystical or holy origins given their association with the Grail. The last son of the Skywalker family, Ben Solo is even the great-grandson of the Force itself, with both royalty and magical power in his lineage. After several symbolic marriage encounters between Rey and her bond-mate, she insists on calling him by his true name and trying to force him to turn to the light, which constitutes the breaking of the taboo. After finally acknowledging his true identity and becoming Ben Solo once more, our hero is drawn away into death, his bride left to a sort of living death as a virgin on a dead world.

Though the story of Lohengrin predated the opera, Wagner crafted his version to explicitly reference the Greek myth of Zeus and Semele:

“Who doesn't know ‘Zeus and Semele?’ The god is in love with a human woman and approaches her in human form. The lover finds that she cannot recognize the god in this form, and demands that he should make the real sensual form of his being known. Zeus knows that she would be destroyed by the sight of his real self. He suffers in this awareness, suffers knowing that he must fulfill this demand and in doing so ruin their love. He will seal his own doom when the gleam of his godly form destroys his lover. Is the man who craves for God not destroyed?”

This too has parallels with the Sequel Trilogy couple, in particular with the woman demanding the god show himself in his “real sensual form.” As many have pointed out, Rey desired Ben completely…. His heart, mind, soul, and body. Having him with her in corporeal form mattered so much to her that the Force facilitated their touch across the galaxy, and she promptly shipped herself to him so that she could be physically with him, despite the risk to her. It is for this reason that I reject the interpretation of the ending of TROS that says because Ben and Rey are a dyad, his soul is with her when he dies. No, his loss is complete, and the fact that his body is gone is a tragedy. Were the living body not important, he would not have given his own life to save Rey’s. Absent any other visual or dialogue cues in the finale, it’s reasonable to assume that Ben’s separation from his soulmate is total.

In her book on swan maiden tales, author Barbara Fass Leavy points out that the taboos imposed on mythical husbands are different than those imposed on mythical wives. Men, for example, are most often prohibited from abusing their fairy brides, while women are prohibited from looking upon their fairy husbands or knowing their true identity. Leavy states: “In general, taboos imposed on the wife in Cupid and Psyche tales are often intended to keep her in her place, to prevent her from achieving some autonomy by knowing who her husband is, seeing him, or being able to disclose his identity to others.” Both taboos admit to an inherent imbalance in the relationship, and while husbands are instructed not to abuse their power, women are told not to challenge their husbands’ power or attempt to achieve a more balanced marriage.

Now the issue for Rey becomes clear: if she is to be her husband’s equal, then she cannot accept him as the unknowable Kylo Ren. He must become Ben Solo, fully-known and her equal in all things. This way, Rey claims her power and balance can be achieved both for the lovers and for the Force itself. Unfortunately, the creators seem to have overcorrected. They wanted Rey alone to be the ultimate hero of the Sequel Trilogy, but as long as a male Skywalker was on the board, they apparently thought he would overshadow her. It seems that the writers believed the man having power in a relationship is the natural state of heterosexual unions, a point made clear by their obsession with patriarchal lineage. So, rather than give the lovers an Eros and Psyche ending as equals, they removed the man from the equation to allow Rey to be the only hero and Skywalker, effectively punishing both of them for breaking the taboo and acknowledging Ben Solo’s true identity. When the lost husband is not found, this represents a narrative judgement on the mythical bride: she has challenged male authority, and so her heart’s desire is stripped away.

Lastly, Leavy also points out that most Beauty and the Beast tales involve a passing of the bride from father to husband, and that many animal groom stories can be interpreted as the bride learning to accept her new husband’s authority. If then the husband is eternally lost rather than found, custody of the bride logically reverts to her father. TROS contains numerous father figures for Rey: there is Luke, Palpatine’s son, and Palpatine himself. Rather than focusing on her mythical husband, our heroine seems to be questioning throughout the film to which father she truly belongs. In the end, she rejects her biological father and grandfather and loses her lover, then takes the name of her only remaining male authority figure, Luke Skywalker. Once again, Rey’s regression to a child is made clear and the myth structure utterly broken.

Conclusion: Star Wars and the Lost Children

Star Wars has always been a story of lost children. First it was Luke, then his sister Leia. Later, we learned of Anakin’s childhood, and finally Ben and Rey’s (to say nothing of other characters like Jyn, Ezra, Din Djarin….). We understood it to be a coming-of-age story in which these lonely children resolved their traumas and made adult choices. Those choices might have had sorrowful consequences, but the overall theme of the story has always been hope, so we knew there was always a chance for redemption, for the lost children to be welcomed home. Sadly, The Rise of Skywalker has deeply undermined that message. Mythologically, psychologically, and symbolically, Ben and especially Rey have reverted to childhood. They are both alone, separated from their families and prevented from forming a new family to provide hope for the future. Whereas the union of Eros and Psyche, Love and Soul, produced Joy, there is no union for Ben and Rey, and no Joy. I truly hope that in the future, Star Wars creators find a way to remedy this pandemic of lost children.

#folktale types #eros and psyche #cupid and psyche #jungian archetypes #lohengrin saga #lohengrin #zeus and semele #star wars meta #tros meta #reylo #reylo meta #the rise of skywalker #sequel trilogy #beauty and the beast #star wars #the last jedi #the force awakens #ben solo #rey #rey palpatine #psychology #romantic tragedy #atu 425 #search for the lost husband #lost husband #lost bride #star wars mythology #star wars as fairy tale #greek mythology #star wars analysis

[flufflebones]

some more fun hcs about delphine [mc 1.... closest 2 my heart since ive used her in various settings for a While]! it’s a little long so im slapping it under a cut but its all sfw and all very much in good fun.

you know, mostly. i only really got two headcanons down and one is brief/about michael and the other is about pets in the devildom

- can and will fight michael do you think they saw the angel/anni event and were ok with it? yeah? no! just going to kick him hard enough in the shin to....... probably bust their own foot but its FINE 

- has an approximate accumulated f*ckton of devildom native and possibly (definitely) magical pets

[The list:

Sosig / Sausage - Hellhound - Gift from Beelzebub!:

A beast of considerable size and [reportedly] god awful temperament, bearing charcoal fur and the lingering [faint] scent of sulphur. More vulpine than canine, their frames are typically gaunt, with the flames that fuel their bodies licking out from the ends of their tails, their ankles and wrists [on their normal quadrupedal legs], the inner portions of their ears [leaving them at a disadvantage when it comes to hearing], their somewhat visible / open ribcage, and the corners of their mouth. 

Despite this general introduction, hellhounds are wildly varied and have a number of breeds and variations in recent history, typically intended for one of three purposes.

Companionship - These hellhounds are typically smaller in stature and less sturdy, with a tendency to bond strongly to one or two masters [with some consideration/leeway for those close to their master: See- Cerberus]. Arguably the most docile of any class of hellhound, they are still dangerous if not raised correctly, and have a nasty bite. Though not a true classification and with no formal means of training a hound to do so naturally, some companion hellhounds serve as a psuedo service dog, heavily attuned to the needs and potential problems unique to their primary master. This isn’t to say that they are an alternative to service animals, or anywhere near as well trained, *of course*, but the devildom is hardly the safest place for a regular human realm animal; And sometimes, you’ve just got to work with what you’ve got.

Sport / Show - Typically very much breed standard. While raised to tolerate handling and grooming, these traditionally built hellhounds are temperamental at best and borderline terrifying when their willful nature comes in direct conflict with a demonic handler who bit off more than they can chew. Heavily regulated, and typically owned by the elite.

Protection - The devildom is dangerous, and nobody is questioning that. Demons with a knack for animal handling [or demons who can afford to hire someone skilled with animals, of course!] breed and train these creatures to guard many things; People, places, objects, etc. They’re typically territorial and hard to train as a rule, as one cannot allow for a beast such as this to be tempted by treats or good petting from *anyone*, yfm?

Sausage is a bit of a mixed bag. Born from protective stock and bought by Beelzebub after overhearing Mammon trying to convince Lucifer to get Delphine/my mc a pet [who lays eggs, we’ll get there, that he can sell for a massive profit]. Being the youngest present brother at the time, anything capturing his interest other than food is both welcomed and encouraged in an attempt to positively reinforce him to not put the devildom at risk of a famine.

Delphine unintentionally raised this brick house of a hellhound puppy into a sort of in-between of companion and protector, with him being very social, very sweet, and *fairly* defensive and willful if things aren’t going his way. He’s typically the one to step in most successfully to motivate her to move around [yes, moreso than the brothers!] and do her day to day tasks, and is probably the best way to find out if something’s wrong with her-- Past being able to just kind of drag her off due to their size differential, his general wit and ability to communicate his needs and wants have led to unexpected food deliveries, blankets spread over her shoulders, and human world medicines arriving a few days before she shows any real signs of illness that she can see.

He’s also spoiled as all get out. If you’re sharing a bed/couch/blanket/etc with her, you can bet Sausage is soon to follow. Sorry, Mammon! He loooves table scraps and is almost as bad as Beel when it comes to eating things he shouldn’t [and looking too cute to be scolded about it too heavily].

Rocky - ... That’s just a rock, dude. - Gift from Belphegor:

It’s really hard to tell if Belphegor is messing around when he presents Delphine with a rough hewn black rock bearing two googly eyes, a pair of hilariously out of place crystalized horns, and a pair of similarly out of place crystal wings, but I swear on all things unholy, he’s doing it for a reason.

Though not... Really sentient, initially, Rocky just needs a good, possibly year long charging. Soulstones are sort of... Weird, in that they are inert and lifeless for as long as they remain with the boulders from which they are harvested. but typically-- After being exposed to a single party’s magical runoff and signature for a year or so-- absorb enough energy to come to life, their coloration and mineral makeup adjusting to fit the nature of the being they owe their life to. Delphine’s takes the form of a celestine and blue goldstone peryton; A winged stag. With crystalized wings and antlers, Rocky would almost look majestic; If it weren’t for the fact that the googly eyes have remained a feature that she has never been able to figure out how to remove. Soulstones are typically quiet observers, not requiring active care to thrive but delighting in contact [especially immediately post spell casting or magic use]. They are attuned to the needs of their magic bound masters, and typically exude an air of-- if not positive-- reassurance.

In Delphines Little Canon Divergence Corner, it’s likely that rocky coming into her care is one of the first of many attempts at reconciliation that Belphegor makes with her post chapter 16; And it honestly really, really sets him back, like, even when she returns to the human realm. Forgotten but included in her luggage, it’s a few weeks into her settling down on Earth that she finds the dinky little stone, and an overload of magic-- Possibly emotionally sourced, possibly due to unresolved tension/a discussion that never got to happen because he was being a little jerk about it-- sets off the transformation, which occurs overnight.

She recognizes the little stone figure when it approaches her in the morning, and one of her first texts about it is a simple, succinct “WTF” + an image attachment sent to Belphegor, specifically in the dead of night with the intention to wake him.

Henry “Pogchampion” 6.0, 7.0, and 8.0, A.K.A: “Pip! Minette! Beans!” - Infernal rats - Gift from Leviathan:

A note: If you don’t care for rats or you’re more familiar with their popular association with illness or disease/classification as vermin, and are only capable of thinking of them in that context, I don’t care. I am specifically talking about rats in the context of them being pets-- And good pets, at that. If you want to talk about how much you wish they were dead/didn’t exist, thats not my problem. Just don’t do it on a post discussing them as a pet, or I will block you!

Anyway!

Leviathan is probably the most appropriate person for them to get pet recommendations from, but her asking never winds up a necessity; When he finds out that he’s got another pet enthusiast in the house, he’s *all* about it, and when he finally [very unsubtly] weasels his way into the information he needs, he gets them to come along with him to what’s supposed to be a routine supply trip for Henry that just *CAN’T* be accomplished online. It’s a trip to *a* shop, but not what she’s expecting, especially when she gets to meet a handful of very curious, very playful, larger than a medium sized dog mice and rats. These guys are very much pests turned pets, with a small niche of hobbyists raising them and breeding them for temperament and overall health and disease resistance. Very social and very intelligent, they tend to thrive best in groups if one is not devoting all of their time to them as an individual. The type Leviathan recommends are on the smaller side, with cloudy, soft fur and sweet temperaments. And massive teeth, nubby horns, spade tipped tails, and very large, typically bony or leathery wings.

Levi is... Probably the one who wanted them, really. They get a little big, and tend to like to roughhouse, and they chew like nobody’s business-- And while he can’t risk his figures or merch or other Otaku Trappings or wires for everything in his room, he *CAN* risk Delphine’s. Plus, Sausage needs a friend, right? Or three?

They pick up three, all of whom are sisters, and all of whom on paper are named Henry “Pogchamp”, 6.0, 7.0, and 8.0, since he *is* technically the one paying for them and at least gets to do that much. Even when they start being named Pip, Minette, and Beans, in casual conversation, he can still hold on to the fact that they’ll always be Henries in his heart of hearts.

Sausage loves them to bits, for the record, but their interactions tend to be supervised/very brief even without the worry of him being able to harm any of them due to the general (and very appropriate) ill advisement of large predators interacting with smaller prey animals. It’s cute, sure, but it can be dangerous, and Delphine (and Levi, to a lesser extent, because he’s using the excuse of them being friends to keep Lucifer off of his ass for adding another animal to her menagerie) isn’t about to risk it.

Sweets - .... A black cat? That glitters? - Gift from Satan and Asmodeus:

Small, sleek, and independent, Sweets is probably the pet people see the least of all of Delphine’s little collection-- Though that doesn’t mean she’s not well loved. A pet project between Satan and Asmodeus, Sweets isn’t *technically* a cat; They’re a being comprised of shadow, somewhat similar in nature to a familiar without the connotation of them technically being a demon slash demonic. Who just so happens to have been enchanted to appear like and generally function in their day to day life as a cat. That sparkles, the only concession Satan was willing to grant Asmodeus in return for his help obtaining the materials necessary to create  the little beast (and in return for him taking the heat when Lucifer inevitably got pissy about it). Given its unique nature, very little is actually known about the little being of shadow past basic care and assumptions based on its generally feline behavioral patterns. The rats scare the hell out of it, however, and it tends to be out of sight except when called, hiding in shadows and only occasionally emerging on its own.

... Oh, and be careful. Satan hasn’t told Del yet, but it seems that the belly rubs this shadowy kitty offers tend  to bite off more than they can chew if they’re not careful. Asmodeus thinks its horrible. Who wants a pet with a massive maw of teeth in their stomach? Satan desperately wants to use this quirk in Sweets’ nature for a prank. Delphine already knows, but is playing dumb for the sake of faking surprise when its formally revealed.

Elysia - Gilded Crow - Gift from Lucifer and Mammon:

SO, i”M going to keep this short because i’ve been writing this for several hours at this point on and off and i really really want to be ready for my dinner when its ready, but!

Elysia is a sort of... Special circumstance. Literally. Devotees to Mammon-- And yes, there *are* people who think he’s a legitimate demon lord, the only people really allowed to treat him like garbage are his brothers and a few choice officials too strong to be eradicated as any lesser demon might have been-- with a background in magical augmentation specifically enchanted this line of crows to reflect that which is most valued by their Lord; Riches. They’re technically not legal due to their status as something of an organic money generator, but a select few in a small flockare kept under the watchful eyes of the Demon Lord and his immediate family, and those who have been trusted by his family members. This is where Lucifer comes in.

Understandably, Mammon is not allowed to have care of his flock, though he certainly wouldn’t be the worst at caring for them. He’d just also be selling their products illegally, and you can’t have that!

Elysia wears a small enchanted band comprised of dull, unimpressive iron-- The kind of thing Mammon would neither notice nor have interest in. This band is enchanted, and serves as a sort of storage space for any of Ely’s dropped organic components. Talons, feathers, eggs-- Everything is automatically absorbed into the band, rendering the bird borderline useless outside of being a gorgeous pet, and a gigantic nuisance. 

Lucifer hates to admit it, but he really is a fan of the large, intelligent, gorgeous creature; And Mammon thinks it’s really funny to teach her to take shiny things (like grimm, loose jewelry, gum wrappers, etc), even past the sentimental value of the bird itself and what her kind represents to him. 

Delphine adores her, too, and is about as good an influence on her as Mammon is-- Teaching her to speak, in some capacity, simply by repeating certain words or phrases to herself as she does things in the day to day, especially during feeding time. It’s all fun and games, until this pretty golden bird calls Lucifer a ‘motherf*cker’ while she thinks he’s out of the room while visiting with Diavolo for an update on her health.

#long #obey me #obey me mc #obey me mc headcanon #obey me headcanons