Shout out to my BOY Palamedes who gently used the term "sex worker" when someone else used the word "prossie" he really said sex work is work.

in this essay i will--

i’m a massive blackhands shipper and while it’s hard to make the argument that izzy isn’t in lustful, stabby love with blackbeard, i’m utterly fascinated by the prospect of an aspec and/or arospec izzy hands. jenkins, after all, never specified that it was romantic jealousy that was motivating izzy, so i’m going to take it and run with it as far as i can. platonic bonds can be just as deep and fucked up and profound as romantic ones if you let them, and since gay villainy is in vogue right now, i’d like to suggest some ace/aro villainy to accompany it as well. with footnotes!

(disclaimer: saying “aspec and/or arospec” every time is going to get tedious, so i’m going to refer to it plainly as either asexuality or aromanticism depending on whether i’m specifically talking about sex or romance.)

tl;dr izzy is living out an aro/aspec person’s worst nightmare and he’s not helping things by making it everyone else’s problem.

his essence as a character +  his role in the narrative just lends itself to an aroace interpretation so well. i’m not trying to make the argument that he Is, just exploring what it would add to his character and arc if he were. there’s just so much to explore here and i’d gladly do a scene-by-scene analysis of every single Izzy Ace Real moment if i respected myself less. if anyone does have questions, needs clarification, or just wants to discuss it more, my office hours are on the syllabus.

his role in the narrative is to be a monster. as the antagonist, he’s supposed to exist outside the heroes’ world and challenge its order. he perceives the world in a way that’s irreconcilable with the reality that’s agreed upon by the protagonists and so must be defeated and destroyed. obviously viewing him as gay is a perfectly valid take, with his monstrousness stemming from his repression and rejection of community rather than the fact that he’s attracted to men (since everyone here is already gay). but there’s a bigger framework to explore that encompasses everyone in the show: romance.

aromantics exist outside of the established framework of what romance is. their existence threatens the idea that love is the defining factor of a person’s humanity and the raison d’etre. asexuals pose a similar threat to views that sex is natural and that all healthy individuals have a biological/evolutionary imperative to perpetuate the species. like being attracted to the same sex or having a gender that doesn’t seem to match your physical body, not experiencing attraction is considered monstrous to greater society. OFMD obviously doesn’t see being gay or trans in that way, but there’s no guarantees for aromanticism*, especially given the fact that the show is first and foremost a romance.

this is where all that meta talking about how izzy is in the wrong genre comes in.

he’s not in black sails, he’s in muppet treasure island. he’s not in a drama, he’s in a comedy. he’s not in an action series, he’s in a romance. it’s possible he could have squeaked by in a show where romance isn’t the Point, where things like duty and achievement and fraternal connection make up the heart of the story**. because izzy fundamentally sees love differently from the other characters in OFMD-- love and duty and work are all the same thing to him. this is why he constantly brings up the fact that he’s edward’s first mate and that he’s beholden to him. to izzy, “he’s my captain” carries the same emotional weight as lucius saying “pete’s my boyfriend”. friendship, to put it crudely, is his romance, since he only experiences one of those in this reading. he might have been drawn to a sailing lifestyle because of the platonic camaraderie it promises, specifically a type of camaraderie that’s valued by society, and seen as more meaningful than friendship without being equated to romance. no one here is going to ditch you for their spouse and no one is going to accuse you of being In Love when you say you’d die for them. to izzy, weddings are fripperies that end in divorce, flings are pointless distractions, cuddles and kisses and pet names are mindless performances meant to prop up a relationship built on mere attraction. but a shared dream of being the most notorious pirates in the atlantic, fighting for that, killing for that-- that, to him, is the highest form of love. who needs kisses to prove your devotion when you’ve killed dozens of people for them? who needs sex when your souls are in lockstep?

obviously, no one else in the show sees it that way. stede/ed, and lucius/pete see love as something that goes hand in hand with sex and romance, and generally exists separate from their lives and aspirations as pirates. even jim, the most duty-obsessed character in the show after izzy, is able to love oluwande without conflating their relationship with him with their life’s mission. izzy’s seen as uptight and cruel and bossy because he can’t loosen up, he doesn’t Get that he’s interrupting a Tender Moment because he needs someone to steer the ship. his desperation to keep edward by his side is portrayed as possessive and largely pointless, instead of still-dickish but understandable***.

it’s not inherently bad that he sees things that way, but it’s 1717 and there is no language to articulate what he feels, and the wound that creates festers and grows into bitterness, spite, and directionless anger spewed in every direction. difference -> ostracization -> loneliness -> bitterness -> monstrousness, and izzy goes from narrative alien to villain.

let’s talk about simpler things.

as a person, beyond his role as a villain, he stands out. he’s the only big character who isn’t confirmed to have any sort of entanglements, past or present, sexual or otherwise. he doesn’t pursue other people even when other people have blatantly offered, and his Thing for blackbeard is mostly subtextual or word-of-god and there really isn’t anything to indicate, in text, that it’s romantic or sexual in nature. now obviously there is some femmephobia/slut-shaming rattling around inside of him (most obvious wrt lucius) and that’s Not alright, but in an asexual reading, a lot of his disgust can be seen as a result of sex repulsion and seeing attraction/relationships as frivolity rather than any specific hatred towards gay men. not saying that that makes it okay, of course, just that the rotten fruit fell from a different tree, and people can absolutely be asexual and be dickheads with a superiority complex which looks especially bad when directed at gay people.

edward, meanwhile, has had relationships in the past before, ones that izzy just tolerated more than anything else. we know he’s an emotional chameleon with a short attention span and we know that izzy is aware of that, and there’s been meta on how izzy prides himself on being The One Who Stayed, the best friend who tells him not to text his ex and holds his hair back when he’s throwing up drunk after he gets dumped. he’s fine with edward having his Dalliances so long as he comes back to izzy once the relationship inevitably goes down in flames so edward can need him and izzy can get him out of bed, bring him lunch, say “i told you so”, and internally grumble about how attraction and attachment makes people stupid and preen himself over that because he’s Built Different. stede, however, is different, and edward might actually have found The One, and he no longer needs izzy because edward’s not miserable for once, and he’s fine with no longer confiding in izzy without a second thought because he’s just a friend, just a first mate. he hadn’t considered that izzy needed him, and what was just-anything to him was izzy’s whole world.

his relationship with edward is a familiar one to a lot of aromantics-- losing your closest friend to a partner who no longer has the time for you because you were an emotional placeholder while they waited for The One. once they find The One, there’s far less room in their life for you, and all the time and attention that you gave to them seems to have disappeared from their books, and the support they gave you in return dries up and they expect you to wipe the past from your books as well. it’s especially hurtful when the friendship was as long as theirs and they both depend on each other that much (and i’ll argue that it crossed the line into codependency many times in the past****). there’s a similar line of thought for asexuals having partners that claim they were fine not having sex but turns out they were lying to themselves and to you. to izzy’s eyes, being made first mate and being edward’s best friend was a promise of commitment, and maybe edward even saw it that way too when they were starting out, but that fizzled and warped and faded into the resentment and bitterness we see by s1. edward becoming interested in stede and wanting to give up piracy/izzy is the final betrayal for him.

izzy’s an awful person but you could never say that he wasn’t loyal and extremely accommodating, to a fault. especially since it’s pretty clear that ed takes izzy for granted and happily takes advantage of the fact that he’d always come crawling back to fix his messes because he does love blackbeard that much. i like edward a lot, i really do, but he’s callous with izzy in the few ways izzy doesn’t deserve. friendships don’t have the social value that romances do, and the nuances of lopsided/fizzling/unhealthy friendships rarely get explored or validated in media, and most of the time, one is just left hanging because their feelings aren’t even worthy of conversation half the time. there’s a sort of desperation in izzy’s attempts to keep ed by his side  because he knows he has nothing new to offer him; not novelty and reprieve (in-text), nor romance and physical affection (in this reading). but stede can do all that, effortlessly, and so izzy hates stede for being everything he can’t be. he spends the entire season fighting against his growing sense of inferiority and irrelevance in edward’s life.

also, he’s got a spade tattoo on his hand. i rest my case.

---

* which is why i actually don’t want this hc to become canon, not unless they lean hard into redeeming izzy. i don’t think the writers would ever deliberately be aphobic, i trust them with my life and nothing they’ve done so far would suggest that, but the narrative would instantly become aphobic the second they confirm aroace!izzy without also making him sympathetic.

** he’d probably still be the odd man out-- a little too loyal, too invested in his friends, a little too uninterested in proving his Prowess in that manly fashion, that’s the inherent queerness of asexuality and aromanticism for you. asexual subtext can look extremely similar to homosexual subtext, and it’s especially ambiguous in media that don’t feature both same- and different-sex attraction, which is most of them.

*** fanon is obviously more sympathetic, especially in interpretations where izzy is in love with blackbeard, but i’m only talking about actual canon and things that have been explicitly confirmed by the text, not word of god.

**** i do think they had a much healthier relationship in the past, and were genuinely good friends. izzy absolutely prefers abuse over neglect but i don’t think he started out that way-- he’s got a spine, even when it comes to edward, the one person he’ll compromise himself for.

I'm struggling with creating a fantasy religion in my story. idk why but it feels weird to have a replacement for christianity, but it also feels wrong to make a polytheistic religion. But i do need a basis for the moral & ethical codes in my world. idk what to do

It really does feel weird, doesn't it??

Tbh my two best examples for handling polytheism and other religions are CS Lewis and @ofsaltandsmoke, particularly my girl <3

Lewis famously had a Christ-figure in The Chronicles of Narnia, though he insisted that the Narnia series were not allegories. And having read his Space Trilogy, I think I understand what he means. These are not direct parallels to our world the way something like Pilgrim's Progress is. These are "how might God handle calling people in other worlds to Himself?", which is a fascinating and delightful question.

Even so, Lewis's worlds have an explicitly Christian basis, which is why I refer you next to ofsaltandsmoke.

Her fantasy world for the novel she's come up with and the RP games we play has various pantheons, depending on the countries. One country has nature spirits, everything from rivers to different animals to lightning, and these spirits give different abilities.

The fascinating thing about her universe is that the gods all exist. They can and will interact with the world. But one question we have explored is "do the gods love?" And only one has answered "yes."

Eua, the goddess of life and death, brings people into life and back out, carrying them across the Veil. She remembers everyone whom she carries and she loves them. This, in one game, brought her into conflict with the god of another nation, Gristha, who devours blood and pain.

Ofsaltandsmoke has raised some incredibly difficult questions and forced us to argue through the morality of different things, from imperialism to revenge to justice coldly applied, from murder to forgiveness. We've touched on LGBTQ issues, on abortion, sex work--it's been genuinely fascinating to consider both characters whose morality is a mirror of our own and characters who are an inversion.

For my own world, religion is less developed. Some nations are polytheistic, one is pantheistic-ish, at least one is monotheistic. But all of these are developed from observation of the natural world and accumulated teachings.

Where does the religion in your world come from? In ofsaltandsmoke's, the gods interact. They send dreams and visions, they reveal themselves to people.

In real life, study history! Many religions are off-shoots of other religions. Some are pantheistic, as people respond to the seemingly chaotic natural world and try to make sense and order of it. Technology levels can affect religious beliefs. If you can offer a natural explanation, is it still a miracle?

I believe Christianity is a divine revelation, that God spoke to the Israelites and then physically lived among us and revealed Himself as loving and compassionate.

What gods might your people believe in? Why or why not? Where do they come from and who teaches about them?

I'd honestly love to hear what you come up with!

And as a final note, let me remind you: creating a fake religion, whether you're replacing Christianity or coming up with pantheons, is not inherently wrong. I probably should have said this before, but I was too excited to talk about how other people have handled this question.

This is fantasy. Nobody is going to read a fantasy novel with a pantheon or a Christian-esque god and make judgments about your beliefs. They'll look at your characters, at what the narrative seems to endorse, and make judgments based on that. At the end of the day, what do your stories endorse? What do they depict as good? If it's love, truth, goodness, gentleness, self-control, all that? They won't be surprised to learn you're Christian.

Art allows us to create greater realities, heightened realities. Art lets us build other worlds that resemble our own, yet are not ours. And because they aren't ours, it's okay to have gods who are not our God. That can allow us to compare and contrast moral questions with greater freedom and depth.

We spoke to Tom Hiddleston about Loki, PowerPoint presentations and the nature of free will

Despite a decade of playing Loki in several Marvel movies and now a TV show, Tom Hiddleston isn’t tired of the role. “There is always something new to be found,” he says The edge.

This week is the premiere of Loki on Disney Plus, a six-episode series that marks the character’s first lead role. It is a story of time travel and branched timelines as Loki is captured by an organization called the Time Variance Authority (TVA). It combines action, humor and some old-fashioned detective work, while tackling serious topics such as the nature of free will. There are also some new faces on board as Hiddleston is joined by Marvel newcomers Owen Wilson, who plays a TVA agent named Mobius, and director Kate Herron, best known for her work on the first season of Sex education.

Prior to the show’s premiere, I had the chance to talk to Hiddleston about his time as a character, a presentation that made him feel like an “amateur academic giving a thesis on Loki,” working with Wilson and Herron, and whether our lives are predetermined. Typical Marvel stuff.

The following interview has been edited and abbreviated for clarity.

We are now at a decade where you play Loki. How have your feelings about the character changed or grown over that time?

I’m honestly just thankful that I’m still here. I find that I am always surprised and happy that I get another chance in it. Long before I was cast, Loki was just the most fascinating and complex character with such depth and range, and he’s been in Marvel comics in several iterations for 60 years, and he’s been in our thoughts, in stories we tell as humans, for hundreds, if not thousands of years. I find that even though it has been 10 years, every time I come back, there is always more to discover. There is always more to dig because these impostors are kind of mercurial and shape-shifting. So there is always something new to be found.

"“Loki is out of control. He’s a man on the run.”"

Now that you’ve focused this six-episode series on Loki, what were you looking forward to exploring with this? What were you hoping to dive into?

I think he’s really opening up and bringing out his many different identities and facets. In my preparation to play the character, I’ve always seen him have so many different and seemingly contradictory characteristics. You think, “How can all these characteristics exist in one person, in one being?” And yet they do.

Loki has always been a character in all MCU movies that seems to be very controlled. He seems to know what cards he has in his hand and how he is going to play them. And Loki, in the TVA – this organization that rules time – has gotten out of hand. He’s a man on the run. And he is motivated by a desire to understand. Suddenly he discovers that there is all this information that he does not have, and he has to get his hands on it. And that actually gives the series great momentum. Loki is on the back foot, everyone knows more than him, and seeing how he adapts, seeing how he improvises after that – if improvisation is possible in the TVA. That’s a question we’re trying to raise, whether you have free will.

I read about the Loki school you led to prepare the team for the character’s history. How did you prepare for that? Did you actually know it all, or did you have to do a lot of research?

I wish it wouldn’t be 10 hours long. I knew I had to summarize what I found useful to tell the crew. It came about thanks to Kate Herron, our director who has done an extraordinary job on this whole series, and he thought maybe it would be a good idea to get everyone together because there were so many department heads, different crew members – production design, costume design, cinematography, camera, sound, stunts – and wanting to make sure everyone had the same information about Loki, and it might be helpful to listen to my experience. I was trying to explain how we constructed Loki’s arc across the six movies he’s in the MCU and figure out what was useful in that arc and what we could leave behind.

I suddenly felt extremely nervous, as if I were an amateur academic writing a thesis on Loki. You’ll have to ask the others if it was helpful at all. But at least we synchronized the watches and we started from the same place.

"“If I were tall enough to use PowerPoint, I could retire and become a full-time professor.”"

So is there a PowerPoint file out there somewhere that will leak out one day?

If I was highly skilled enough to use PowerPoint, I could retire and become a full-time professor.

I did have a few clips. I thought there were some clips from the movies that could be helpful. It was interesting, even though it was about how the costume had changed over the years and why. And when does Loki wear the horns? Are the horns a casual thing? Are they a ceremonial thing like a crown? Is it an extension of an inner intention? Do the horns come out if he’s particularly evil? Why is her hair different? Sometimes he wears a cape, sometimes not. Sometimes he uses magic, sometimes he uses his own body to fight in combat. All questions that people were curious about.

I know this was meant for the rest of the crew, but was it helpful for you to go through this again as you prepared to jump back into the role?

Oh yes, absolutely, just to refresh myself about certain decisions we had made and why certain things were changed… sometimes you try to bring very elaborate and beautifully illustrated comic book panels into a physical reality on a movie set and figure out how to merge these two worlds. It was interesting. I got some great questions about how he moves the way he does and where certain things showed up in stunts, especially hair, makeup and wardrobe, how the clothes changed and why we made those choices.

It was interesting to refresh myself on the extraordinary input, because I carry the inspiration of great people with me. [Thor director] Kenneth Branagh and Alexandra Byrne, our costume designer; Bo Welch who designed the first Thor movie; Charlie Wood who was production designer on The dark world; the whole crew of Ragnarok; Mayes Rubeo, the costume designer of Ragnarok; and people like Douglas Noe, who has been doing makeup on Loki for a long time. So there was a lot to unpack.

Both Kate Herron and Owen Wilson are newcomers to the Marvel machine. Is it helpful to have such an external perspective?

Absolutely. Both Kate and Owen came in with so many questions because they hadn’t lived in Loki’s head for 10 years. They have a fresh take on it. Kate was so well prepared and so well researched; she even brought in new Marvel Publishing material that I’d never seen before, about Loki’s inner world. Owen came in and asked me a lot of questions about my experience. I remember him saying, “Tom, why should I?” you do you like to play Loki?” And I found myself saying, “Well, he’s just got this whole range. He can play the light keys, but he can also play the heavy keys in the bass clef. And somehow the character has both.” And he loved that way of thinking about it, he said, “I think I could say that on the show.” And so it was really his very intelligent question that took us elsewhere in the story.

Given the themes of the first two episodes, I have to ask: do you believe in free will?

I hope so. Free will is such an interesting, eternal question. I think people have asked to what extent we have the power of self-determination, self-realization, choice about our actions and whether we can control the course of our lives. It goes back to evolutionary or psychological arguments about nature and nurture and why we are who we are. Maybe it’s the journey of a lifetime to find out, to really take the wheel of your own life. Because we are set on a path in childhood, I think, often by accident – the misfortune of birth, where we were born and when – and we are propelled in many ways by the unconscious.

That’s a complicated answer. It’s a complex question. So I hope so. I hope true free will is possible. But for all of us, I think it can be a long journey of self-discovery.

Five Tom Riddle Crossover Fics to Read

Tom Riddle is a difficult character to ship. For those of us who want to see pairings beyond the Big Two (Tomarry and Tomione), canonical options peter out relatively quickly. Sure, we can invent our own pairings by fleshing out side characters, but sometimes, the itch is best scratched by borrowing from another canon.

And it makes sense for Tom more than nearly anyone else in HP. Tom was born into an era that is the subject of so much literature, so it’s easy to find another person kicking around postwar Europe if that’s your goal. He’s an archetypal character, the villain seeking immortality, and can be matched against other villains with the same aims. Hell, even his quest to recover lost artifacts turns into the basis for two of these works—Tom Riddle has the perfect combination of a recognizable context and character model, plus the ambiguity of his canon timeline, to slot him alongside so many other fictional figures.

I want to pause on some of these themes for a second. Immortality or relationship to age, for one, is something that comes up in three of these pairings: the Darkling and Koschei the Deathless are both immortal characters in their own canons, and Edmund Pevensie is not immortal but has aged and de-aged repeatedly in his travels to and from Narnia. The HP series doesn’t give us nearly this wealth of different perspectives on age and immortality, which is fair—HP makes it clear that immortality is unnatural and undesirable, and Flamel is notably a ‘good person’ because of his willingness to accept his own death—but for a character as obsessed with the idea as Tom, some emotions can only be explored when you match him with another character who has a complicated relationship to aging. Even someone like Indiana Jones, not immortal and not trying to be, has an interesting perspective to bring to a story because he has seen so many other quests for power gone terribly awry.

Of course, the other thing we get from crossover pairings is the ability to match Tom with a villainous character. And whether you’re a fan of conflict at the start of a relationship or not, I think there’s something to be found in putting two villains together: moral arguments, when they exist, are rarely about whether death is necessary but about what kinds of death are best used when; the entire concept of either a redemption arc or a breaking bad arc can be thrown out a window. It’s a space wherein our two villains are allowed to be themselves, and the reveal of the extent of each character’s villainy becomes a strange form of celebration. This is challenging to achieve if one sticks to HP canon alone, whereas crossovers are a fruitful space.

My selection methodology was to read every crossover fic with a clear focus on Tom Riddle or Voldemort on AO3. I found crossover pairings by visiting the meta pages for the Tom Riddle, Voldemort, and Tom Riddle | Voldemort tags—I may have missed some pairings for Tom Riddle, as the character has over 300 child relationship tags and AO3 cuts off at 300 displayed. If you know of any ships I missed and should check out, do tell! I’ll also make a note here that one of these fics is my own—if self-recs bother you, skip Bluebird.

The following five fics are ordered by wordcount. Let me know what you think!

Neurotic Virtuosi, by skazka

Crossover: Hannibal Rising (movie version). The wizarding world exists, and Tom and Hannibal encounter each other in non-magical Eastern Europe.

Summary: Tom and Hannibal ride the same train when Tom is hunting down the diadem. Tom shares an apple and thinks about keeping Hannibal.

Mature, <1k, Graphic Torture Fantasies

Why?: This is one of those pairings that I wouldn’t have thought to do when the characters were both young, but it’s so much better for that choice! The length of this fic means we only get a taste of their interactions, but what a taste it is. Tom’s internal fantasies are horrifying and described in a very erotic way, which fits both characters.

This also serves as an interesting vision of what Tom might have experienced during his world tour to find the diadem, a period we rarely get to see. I particularly like that the author chose to write it as frustrating and mostly fruitless; a Tom who is stymied and unsuccessful is a particular weakness of mine.

Two Sides of the Same Coin, by Anonymous

Crossover: Chronicles of Narnia. Both Hogwarts and Narnia are real, and the characters meet in Britain. The magic isn’t the same, but there’s mutual recognition.

Summary: Tom tries to use sex to seduce secrets out of Edmund. Edmund sees something reminiscent of his younger self, the version of him who could join the White Witch, in Tom Riddle.

Explicit, 2k

Why?: Edmund and Tom are a pairing made in crossover heaven, both boys of a similar age born into war in the same country and whose discoveries of magical worlds help them escape it. Both lust for power and make poor choices; Edmund canonically recovers and finds redemption from his actions, and Tom does not.

This fic wears the hat of something pure smut, starting in the middle of a sex scene and tagged with top/bottom roles, etc., and it is that and does that well. But give it a shot for Edmund’s reflection at the end, his hopeful musings that he can apply the lessons learned from Aslan to help Tom before Tom’s utterly lost. It’s a crossover ship with unbelievable potential for both characters, and this fic makes me want so much more.

Shedding Skin, by electric_typewriter

Crossover: Deathless by Catherynne M. Valente. Both the wizarding world and the magic of Deathless exist.

Summary: Tom meets Koschei before splitting his soul. They keep meeting, and Tom keeps attempting to match Koschei’s immortality.

Not Rated, 2k

Why?: Immortality via relocation or storage of souls is an idea that easily predates Harry Potter as a series, and seeing two different versions of the some core idea interacting with one another is precisely what crossovers exist to enable. Koschei as an immortal being that found his immortality in a way he considers superior is a fascinating concept, because it creates a power imbalance between them that leaves Tom always running to catch up. And Tom, poor Tom, feels like a desperate man, finding sensation only when he’s around Koschei and feeling nothing at any other time.

This reads a bit like you’re dissociating. The author uses descriptive language to keep the reader a little distant from the grounded reality of the events happening, which has the effect of keeping you focused on the metaphysical question of what it means to have part of a soul.

Bluebird, by Phantomato

Crossover: Shadow and Bone. S&B summoning powers instead of HP magic, set in the real world, with characters’ histories preserved.

Summary: Tom is the second sun summoner to exist, born long after the first gave up her powers and lived out her natural life. He tracks down the Darkling, the shadow summoner who never really died.

Explicit, 17k

Why?: Tom is an immortal being for at least part of his life, and his character arc is about pursuit of immortality, but he is fundamentally a young immortal, and is killed before he can graduate to old immortality. Aleksander, the Darkling, is canonically an old immortal, and his character arc is about the burden of living with the knowledge that you will likely always be alone. That loneliness sets the scene for the relationship between Tom and Aleksander, driving Aleksander’s behavior—he fundamentally believes he will always be alone, even an immortal like Tom passes through his life.

There is a high proportion of smut in this, serving in place of the emotional honesty that neither character can muster, and I recommend it for that. But the story also relies on investment in quiet everyday moments shared between the characters. It’s a fic told through behavior because both men are so cautious around one another, where they nevertheless manage to find sympathy for the other.

Riddles of the Dead, by Maeglin_Yedi

Crossover: Indiana Jones. Blends together the wizarding world and the mysticism present in Indiana Jones films.

Summary: Tom Riddle hires an expert archaeologist and gentleman adventurer, Dr. Indiana Jones, to help him pursue an artifact that might grant him immortality. There’s fucking, fighting, magic, snakes, and some difficult choices in store for our leading men.

Explicit, 18k, Angst

Why?: Maeglin Yedi has been a mainstay of the Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort ficspace for nearly two decades, but an old crossover like this can unfortunately slip through the cracks. It shouldn’t! With an original publishing date in early 2005, this predates the concept of horcruxes, the knowledge of Tom’s early years at Wool’s orphanage, and, well, so much of what we would eventually learn about Tom Riddle as a person. It’s a testament to the author that the story manages to capture Tom’s character in such a way that he’s still fully recognizable to a current-day reader, despite working with so much less canon.

This fic is fun. It’s an adventure, featuring hazards and traps and assassination attempts that you would expect from an Indiana Jones film, but the magic and mystery never overwhelms the relationship at the core of this story. It’s set up beautifully, with a mirrored structure between the front and back halves of the fic that foreshadows the inevitable end of the story. Watching older, confident Indy seduce young, hungry Tom is a delight. One (possible) mark of a great Tom-centric fic, imo, is to be able to portray Tom enjoying the exchange of power, giving it to someone as well as taking it from them, and this Tom is able to revel in giving up some perceived power as he practices being vulnerable with Indy. The romance is quite sweet, especially considering that ‘angst’ tag at the top of the fic!

northeast monsoon

pairing: god!jungkook x goddess!reader genre: fantasy, smut, slight angst, soulmate!au word count: 3.7k warnings: mature content, unprotected sex, brief mentions of the character’s health conditions, cursed!reader, son of the deity jungkook // 18+ summary: Jungkook, not out of ordinary, decided to celebrate his 24th birthday in his favorite place on earth, the closest place to heaven—on a mountain summit. However, even before he reaches the highest peak of the mountain range, he was trapped, enthralled, and coincidentally found his true nature.

note: the idea occurred to me earlier while i was at work yesterday used jk’s birthday as an excuse to pursue it and ignore my 36433 wips and drabble requests; short, steamy and a literal filth bc it’s unedited

Jungkook was lost.

His birthday seems to carry the bad luck today. His very first misfortune in his two year experience of mountain hiking. The moment he stepped foot on the soil of mountain range marks the start of a weird feeling sitting at the pit of his something. That he refused to acknowledge  because nothing bad happened to him before.

When they visited the homes of the natives on the foothill of the mountain to pay respect as inhabitants of the ancestral domain, the chieftain’s storytelling of the mountain’s cursed guardian sounded incredulous. He didn’t take it seriously nor think of it as a warning. He didn’t understand why the indigenous leader felt the need to tell them a folklore causing a delay on their activity.

Amongst the group of civilian trekkers, he was the only one who skipped the supposed ritual of spitting to the soiled ground and drawing a cross on foot on the same spot before entering the premises passed the small village. It was said to reverse the effect of any potential supernatural force against them.

Approximately 45 minutes after they started their trail onto the summit, he caught a swarm of fireflies flocking on a trunk of a humongous tree, seemingly in its hundred years of existence or more. But it wasn’t the insects that prompted him to stop and admire the view. It was the rare glow surrounding the tree that did. In his great fascination, he even loudly shared his discovery to the group. Their disinterest to the majestic tree dismayed him. Are they blind or something? It’s not everyday that they get to admire such beauty. For a solid few minutes, he was left dazed, stunned to see a tree before his eyes just like the one he had seen recently in a fantasy drama where there existed witchcraft and wizardry.

He’s not dreaming, is he?

When he finally snapped out of his reverie, the group was no longer in sight, leaving him there standing alone. At least, there’s a trace of footprints he could use to follow their tracks.

In silence, Jungkook couldn’t help but think back of the past, and the last bit memory he remembers when he woke up in a hospital bed with no recollection of his identity.

Four years ago, he was met with a major car accident with its impact resulting to hundreds of stitches in his chest, the only hideous scar he obtained after he was said to be hospitalized for a month. He not only developed a heart condition but was also diagnosed with a retrograde amnesia. He believes that his inability to recall his past memory marked the start of his vivid dreams occurring every night. Still, he was lucky enough to have his body remain in the best condition despite the lasting emotional and physiological damages it left him.

The endless dreams of mountains and forests led him to discover his fondness in scenery and the constant sense of emptiness becoming difficult to ignore. His newly found obsession with nature was enough to convince himself to start trekking, particularly mountains. Strange enough, he found the solitary in mountain peaks, of the scenery, and the cold climate in summits.  He found a temporary peace in the closest place to heaven from the constant ache that each of his bizarre dreams left his heart bruising.

It was not only his dreams that he finds peculiar. Although his mother had reminded him numerous times that it was his adolescent self who developed a liking to tattoos, he didn’t know what occurred to him in his teens to consider inking his body with unrecognizable symbols that even with a brief searching in google couldn't provide him what the underlying significance each mark carries.

Few minutes later, he found himself stopping at the same spot where he had taken his time admiring the tree. He didn’t know how it happened when he was only following the remnants of the collective footpath on the ground. If he perceived the situation odd, he didn’t acknowledge it until the third time he came back on the same spot, same view.

The fact that he’s always has this great sense of remembering directions whether it be in the road or in mountains, makes the situation even weirder. For the nth time, he took a glance at his wristwatch. A groan resonated through the eerie silence in the midst of the forest. He’s been walking in circles for almost two hours now.

The group might have been halfway through the summit at this point. The trail takes about 4-5 hours and he’s far behind them now. With a heavy heart, he decided to return back to the foothill.

The sun is at its highest peak above the sky, amplifying the dryness of his mouth from the heat of noon. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to drink the remaining content in his flask.

The gust of wind brought by the monsoon is somehow mixing up his sense of direction. Some may find it strange, but he could feel the presence of wind oddly stronger than other human beings. Out of the ordinary, he could sense where the wind came from just by the mere blow of breeze passed his skin. Right now, he couldn’t put his extraordinary ability into good use because even with his attempt to go back down, he keeps returning to the same location.

Jungkook is lost. Somewhat, he’s trapped.

Now more than ever, he’s almost convinced some being invisible to the naked eye is playing him around. Jungkook lowered his rucksack on the ground, and started pacing back and forth as he tried to figure out how he’ll reverse the imaginary spell.

Even with the time passing by, the fireflies remained there, swimming around the trunk like they own it. If he’s trapped, someone or something might be responsible for this. Whether or not these stupid supernatural creatures are true, he needs to get out of here.

His foot stopped mid-step and fixated his glare at the old tree. What else would prove the peculiarity of the situation other than the mythical personified before his eyes.

“Come on, take back whatever spell you’ve casted on me. I’m not gonna destroy your home. This is an order, you devious creature.” Jungkook reprimands sarcastically as if the poor, ginormous tree can understand him in the human language.

There was nothing significantly remarkable about it if not only for the fairy dust-like glimmers surrounding it.

However, to his surprise, he suddenly hears the rustles of the leaves and cracks of branches echo through the stillness in the air as they pliantly bend over. He could feel the shiver run through his spine as he gathered what was happening to the tree. It is bending, its crown slightly crouched in front of him as if it was bowing down.

Jungkook staggers back in utter astonishment.

What the fuck is this sorcery? Is he dreaming?

He blinks furiously, trying to deduce the realness of the scene in front of him.

Soon after, he felt another surge of force-like brush of the wind against his skin, kindling tingles and goosebumps to appear on his skin. Dust swirls like a whirlpool in the air as weightless dead leaves harshly dance above the ground before they fall back down. To make things more incredulously mad, out of nowhere, a blinding form comes into sight near the trunk.

As its gleam dies down, the next thing his eyes have captured is the most enchanting being he has ever seen in his life.

A goddess.

She leans forward, her shimmering palm rubbing up and down on the rough texture of the trunk, as if the bewitching creature is consoling the seemingly submissive native species. Whether or not the goddess is upraising its spirit, he couldn’t be sure.

In quiet amazement, he watches the beauty just a few meters away from him while his presence remains hidden. Long silky hair in beautiful waves flowing with its end touching her lower back. It’s shade resembles that of the dead leaves with seemingly fresh petals and leaves decorated as accessories on her hair. Almost brandishing her as a forest goddess. With her side facing his front, Jungkook could clearly see the swell of her breasts with her thick locks keeping her peaks hidden like an enthusing mystery.

As if abiding by whatever the goddess had said, the crouched tree slowly returns back to its natural form. And just as the goddess turns her back at him, ready to vanish into the thin air, he scurried forward.

“Wait!” Jungkook shouts, hurriedly calling their attention despite hardly recovering from the peculiarity of the scene in front of him.

You only responded with a side glance, just enough to see him in your peripheral vision.

Jungkook took it as his cue to garner more of your attention, “You’re a goddess?” He says with his tone clearly filled in awe.

As if his naive question took you by surprise, you whirled around. When you did, it was like there was an invisible electrifying sensation that struck him the moment your eyes landed on him. The tremor of sparks immediately radiating in his body.

She’s such an exquisite sight, Jungkook gawked. Cting you as his example, none of the illustrations he’d seen on the internet had given justice just how beautiful goddesses are in real life. In real life! 

When you spoke for the first time since you appeared in his vision, he was quickly snapped out of daze.

“You can see me? How… you mortals do not have the ability to see us.” You say breathlessly, bewildered to have met the eyes of a mortal for the first time since time immemorial. No living mortal can and will see you, unless you have opted to be seen.

Jungkook’s mouth parted. You said no affirmation. Yet, the way you addressed him as a mortal only meant one thing.

“You’re really a goddess!” He exclaims, still stunned.

“Go back to the land. The fairies will guide you the way.” You said with a simple directness, having no intention to unravel the mystery of his identity and why he seemed to carry power in him. Just as you uttered those words, the fairies appeared from the crown of the tree.

“No, wait! I’m not gonna leave until you answer my questions.”

Your head shook and with firm persistence, you say, “I am no guardian of a mortal like you. Leave the mountain before another fairy casts a spell on you. If that happens, you will never return to your home.”

Jungkook held his arms out. “I’m not here to harm anyone or anything.”

As the wind continues to swirl around the two of you, the long locks of your hair resting over your chest continue to sway pliantly in the wind’s direction.

At some point, Jungkook caught a vaguely familiar mark decorated on your skin just below your shoulder blade. On the same spot of one of his marks which mirrors yours.

“I am the guardian of this shelter and supernatural beings that live here. I cannot fill your curiosity nor have the power to keep you safe against them.”

Jungkook could perfectly hear you, but his focus had zeroed in to your shoulder. To see the exact resemblance of his mark on yours is a different story. You’re wrong, definitely wrong because you are the answer to his dreams.

Jungkook suddenly peels off his waterproof jacket while dragging his feet toward your direction.

The swell of your breasts entice him almost too painfully that his cock twitches from the mere sight of your glowing skin in complete nudity. As if they were inviting his palms to touch them. And even with your orbs glinting with subtle surprise, your face remained expressionless.

Why, he finds it fascinating. You have bewitched him!

Your confusion only lasted for a couple seconds until the last layer of fabric was taken off of his upper body. But it was replaced by a thunder striking discovery, gasping as your eyes landed on the flesh-colored, slit-like scar on his chest similar to that of the Deity’s symbol. Lightning bolt.

Jungkook met your eyes, thinking you’ve already recognized the identical marking on his skin.

When he parts his mouth to speak, you beat him to it.

“You’re not a mortal.” You revealed, still astounded.

“W-What?” Jungkook stopped in his tracks.

It couldn’t possibly be. The children of the Supreme Deity are no mortals. The God of the sea, the Ruler of the stars and moon, the Owner of the soon, the twin Gods of love and beauty, the Prince of the earth and the deity’s successor, and the missing guardian of the wind have no mortal blood. That you’re certain of. But the missing god... does it mean he’s the missing guardian of the wind?

Your gaze sifts through the generous amount of inks on his arms where the secrets of his power lie beneath the layer of the markings. The God of love have revealed this to you once several years when you dared question the reason why his body is decorated of inks, unlike other gods you have seen.

When your eyes shifted upward to his shoulder blade, you felt your heart tightens in an almost unbearable grip for the first time since the Deity has cursed you.

“Soulmate,” you reveal for the second time.

Jungkook’s eyes went round. “S-Soulmate?” He stutters.

You reach out and touch the ink of your bond on his skin. And just like that, Jungkook visibly shudders at the minimal contact.

Your eyes glossy from moisture. “I’ve been waiting for you.” You confessed.

He took one bold step forward, cupping your elegant face in his palms.

“Heavens, you’re so beautiful. How could I possibly believe that I’m rewarded with a soulmate like you? Tell me, I’m not dreaming.” He says with wonder glinting in his eyes.

He inches his face closer until your noses are touching. “If I only knew you’re waiting for me, I should’ve come here sooner when I began having those weird dreams. Fuck, let me kiss you, princess.” He groans, unable to wrap his head around with the revelation. He still has yet to ask what you meant when you said he’s not a mortal, but right now, he doesn’t care what his true identity is.

He needs to taste you.

And so he did, capturing your mouth in a flash, and taking your breath away as he pushes his tongue into the caverns of your mouth.

“So sweet,” he murmurs against your mouth. “You taste so sweet, princess.”

But the moment was cut short as he felt a searing pain in his chest. He jerks back as his body contorts in agony.

Jungkook hisses as the pain all too quickly rushes in his blood, the sensation numbing his entire body. With his eyes clenched tightly shut, he failed to witness the glow beginning to exude from each ink on his arms, the most vibrant glimmer coming from the mark on his chest that symbolizes his birthright.

His power is trying to rouse back through his mortal senses. Your glimmering fingers cautiously graze the bond on his skin, exploring the effect of your touch to him. 

The tingles that radiate through his veins left him whimpering and wanting more, more of it to distract him from the unbearable ache.

“Please touch me…” He writhes, sharply drawing a breath in and out.

You lower your head and let your mouth touch the bond. A ripple of tingles slither through him almost instantly, involuntarily making him shiver from the newfound sensation. He could feel the rush of blood going straight to his cock inside his pants. He needs more.

As if you heard his silent pleas, your tongue darts out of your mouth, swirling around the spot to soothe his aches. Jungkook’s hands curl over your back, closing the distance between your bodies, leaving no way for him to not feel your breasts on his chest. In daze, he looked heavenward, mouth parted back as gasps proceeded to stumble out of his mouth deliriously. With the pain drowned by the pleasure that your sensual licks carry, he tears your mouth off of his skin just to crash his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.

He lets his instincts rule him out, and there’s one thing he wants more than anything else than to permanently mark your body his, to seal the bond that will eternally link your souls together.

“I need you so much, Princess. Tell me you want this, too. Otherwise I’ll leave and will never bother you, again.” He says in a whisper against the corner of your mouth.

The harmless threat of his words stirs alarm in you, giving him the answer he wants to hear almost instantaneously. “I’m yours, please have me. Do as you wish to my body.”

He groans, loving the way you call him yours. “Jungkook,” he whispers against the plump skin of your glowing cheek, “Say it. Say my name, Princess.” He demands softly.

“Jungkook,” you utter breathlessly.

His chest vibrated as the growl rang through the emptiness of the forest. “Fuck, you’re so perfect, my goddess.”

Jungkook sweeps you off in his arms, and with a few, calculated steps, he laid you over his thrown jacket on the ground. Another groan tears out of him just as he parted your legs, with your bare, leaking center exposed right before his hooded eyes.

Unceremoniously, he braced himself on top of you, sucking the raven mark on your skin. His fully aroused member is freed with a pop of his button and a one forceful pull of the waistband of his trousers.

He wasted no more passing second and impulsively align the red tip of his mad cock on your entrance. With a calculated thrust of his hips, he sinks his member to your warm tightness, releasing a heavy sigh in relief as the heat of your hole equally envelops all throughout his body despite the chills brought by the gust of the wind.

Jungkook catches one of your peaks with his mouth as you get lost to the heat of the intimacy. He didn’t know if goddesses such as his enchanting soulmate can conceive like mortals do or if there are other methods to reproduce but it’s never a waste of his fluid to try and test the theory. After all, if your words bear truth, he may not be a human like what he actually thought he was.

Your heavenly mewls coax him to penetrate in you deeper, until your cries have intensified and your body writhes helplessly beneath him.

With each roll of his hips colliding against your pelvis, your delightful cries have become more profound, unrestrained, enough to flare warmth right straight to his abdomen. Jungkook rests his forehead just below your temple, murmuring sweet confessions to you, the owner of his soul and inevitably soon, his heart.

He guided your legs around his waist, giving him the access to ruthlessly pound into you deeper. And then something snaps out from him.

All the gentleness of his movements have evolved into something more carnal—feral, manifesting the strength of his true nature.

God of the wind, son of the Supreme Deity. The longer his body connects with your immortal form, the luminescence emitting on his skin becoming more vivid.

“Jungkook!” Another scream tears out of you. Tears cascading from your eyes from both pain and pleasure.

With his godly powers spurring during the intimate joining of your bodies, his strength turns more powerful that no human would possibly ever survive from. You could never match the godliness of a deity’s son, but your supernatural strength was able to neutralize the surge of his energy and entwines the intensity with yours.

The God of the wind continues to rock you closer and closer to the end, with the thought of his future with you, you carrying his children, you and no one else.

He senses the buildup tension in your stomach with your head tossing restlessly from side to side.

And in a suck of your bond with his mouth and a flick of your bud in your center, you exploded so powerfully around his cock. Jungkook chases his end while the rush of your euphoria continues to spark in your veins, giving your body an exceptional glow.

He reaches the peak of pleasure with an animalistic growl reverberating on his chest, locking your hips immobile to make sure your walls greedily take in every drop of his cum. He’d want to breed you with his children.

“My sweet goddess, you’re amazing.” He praises, nuzzling on the thick, wavy locks of your hair.

Jungkook didn’t miss the squeeze of your palm on his waist. He let your wandering hands trace the length of his body. But he pulls away when you spoke.

“Will you leave me after this?” There is sadness hinted at the tone of your voice.

He tilted your chin up with his fingers, studying your features. “Of course not, how can you say that?”

You smile weakly, the grief dancing in your eyes making his chest tightens. “I’m not as powerful as you are. You are the son of the deity, you can… reject our bond and choose any goddess as you wish. Whereas, I only have one eternal soulmate and that’s you. But…”

Even with the truth unraveling right before him, he could only focus on your grief. Why is someone as perfect as you hold so much moroseness in your heart?

“But?”

“This mountain is my world. I’m eternally cursed to guard this shelter.” Your lips quiver in fear. His thumb grazes your lower lip as his arm tightens over your back. The tale told by the chieftain crosses his mind. The cursed guardian is you.

“Oh princess, do you think anything else will convince me to live without you in my life? I’ll be wherever you need me to be. Goddess or not, I will never let you out of my sight forever.” He vows, sealing the promise of eternity with a power-clashing kiss.

mintseesaw © 2020

MCU The Avengers - How did the fandom came to believe Loki was tortured by Thanos? (aka when God, Saint Paul and Dante seem to say the same thing)

Everyone has probably heard how there are people who say that, after falling into the Void at the end of “Thor”, Loki was tortured by Thanos and then sent to Earth. Of course every time this story comes up there’s a debate because this is not explicitly shown and some say it’s just a theory (word of Dante), some say someone involved with the work said so (word of Saint Paul) and some says the creators, be it Marvel or Joss Whedon or another director/scriptwriter said so (word of God).

Well, the truth is a collective chat about the three.

But first...

SOURCES MENTIONED:

Movies: “The Avengers” (2012), “Guardians of the Galaxy” (2014), “Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2″ (2017), “Avengers: Infinity War”

Series: “Loki” (2021)

Comics: None mentioned

Direct-to-video animated film: None mentioned

Motion comics: None mentioned

Books: “The art of The Avengers” (2012)

Novels: “Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: The Avengers” (2015)

Webs: The official Marvel web

Others: Interview: “‘Thor: The Dark World’: Tom Hiddleston on boom times for evildoers”, Interview: “Tom Hiddleston - live on stage Q&A: Popcorn Tax.i October 8, 2013, Event Cinemas George Street, Sydney”, Interview: “Tom Hiddleston THE AVENGERS Set Visit Interview”, Interview: “Joss Whedon told Comic-Con the question he doesn’t want us to ask ever again”, Interview: ‘Avengers: Infinity War’ director explains why a major death had to happen so early in the movie, Script: “The Avengers”, Interview: Secrets Revealed in Joss Whedon’s Avengers DVD Commentary

Let’s start with...

WORD OF DANTE (aka fancanons)

Undoubtedly fans noticed some suspicious things in Loki which has brought them to draw certain conclusions.

1) At the end of “Thor”, when he control Selvig, his face seems to be bruised, as if he had been beaten. It’s easy for fans to assume if he seems to be beaten maybe... well, he was?

2) When he arrives, in “The Avengers”, in some scenes he seems unsteady on his feet and in poor shape as if he’d been beaten and, in one scene, he seems unable to stand straight. Same as above, Loki will prove through the movie he’s very resistant. If something made him unsteady on his feet... well, this can mean someone beaten him.

3) The Other threatens him and keeps him under surveillance, as if he’s controlling him somehow, both during the movie and in a deleted scene, which seems to imply Loki is working under coercion more than willingly.

THE OTHER: You will have your war, Asgardian. If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he can’t find you. You think you know pain? He will make you long for something as sweet as pain. [The Avengers]

4) Some wondered if Loki could have ended up being possessed as well by the sceptre as the sceptre could control minds.

5) Some noticed how Loki’s eyes appear as blue in “The Avengers”, a characteristic of the possessed guys, while in “Thor” they seem to be green was a hint Loki was possessed, same as Selvig and Barton.

6) Some wondered if Thanos might have tortured him to force him to cooperate as Thanos is known for having tortured people working under him. We saw him torturing Nebula in both “Avengers: Infinity War” and “Avengers: Endgame” and we also have those bits:

Gamora: He’s not my father. When Thanos took my home world, he killed my parents in front of me. He tortured me, turned me into a weapon. [Guardians of the Galaxy]

Nebula: You were the one who wanted to win. And I just wanted a sister! You were all I had. But you were the one who needed to win. Thanos pulled my eye from my head… and my brain from my skull… and my arm from my body… because of you. [Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2]

Gamora: All my life, I dreamed of a day... a moment when you would get what you deserved. And I was always so disappointed. But now... you kill and torture... and you call it mercy. The universe has judged you. You asked it for a prize, and it told you no. You failed. And do you wanna know why? Because you love nothing. No one. [Avengers: Infinity War]

7) Others assumed that, if Thanos didn’t do it personally, another of his children could have done it for him. We saw Ebony Maw torturing Stange in order to get the stone for Thanos.

Ebony Maw: You’ll only wish you were dead. [Avengers: Infinity War]

8) Since Thanos was willing to kill Rohan should he fail to bring back to him the orb, Thanos would have killed Loki if he hadn’t brought back the Tesseract so Loki was working for him under coercion.

Thanos: I shall honour our agreement, Kree. If you bring me the Orb. But return to me again empty-handed... ...and I will bathe the stairways in your blood. [Guardians of the Galaxy]

Ebony Maw: In all the time I’ve served Thanos, I’ve never failed him. If I were to reach our rendezvous on Titan with the Time Stone still attached to your vaguely irritating person, there would be... judgement. [Avengers: Infinity War]

9) Loki’s willing cooperation wasn’t needed if Thanos had the feeling Loki could do it. He had blackmailed Gamora into giving him the location of the soul stone and he had killed Tivan to get the reality stone.

World of Dante is, as usual, very charming but if not supported by anything else it can’t ascend to canon. This doesn’t mean it’s false unless Word of God ends up stating the opposite, but this doesn’t mean it’s true either. Just possible but unproved.

So is there someone else that’s a little stronger than fan theories?

Enter...

WORD OF SAINT PAUL (aka what Tom Hiddleston says)

For start that he has blue eyes and, from the way he speak, apparently he was never made wear green eye contacts.

Loki is a sexy villain, but that’s not part of his ambition, is it? He doesn’t seem to be interested in love or sex but he has this sexuality about him, maybe it’s his lust for power. What do you think of Loki as a sexy beast? [Laughs] That’s the first time anyone has ever used that phrase about Loki. It’s fascinating isn’t it? I don’t know because it’s not a part of the conscious construction. I take relish in playing him. I think there’s a physical self-possession about him, a self-acceptance. Of course I’ve been very exacting about his physicality. You know, I was born with very blonde, curly hair, and a mixture of Scottish and English genes, and my complexion is very ruddy and healthy. In making him with this raven black hair and blanching my face of all colour, it changes my features. Suddenly my blue eyes look a lot bluer, which lends a severity to my face. And even my own smile has a distorted menace to it. Whatever comes through me naturally is distorted. It’s almost like a filter on a light. [‘Thor: The Dark World’: Tom Hiddleston on boom times for evildoers]

This disproves Fan theory point number 5. You might have noticed though that the theory about Loki being possessed by the sceptre is point 4. You’ll see later why I hadn’t placed those two points together.

And now let’s see what he has to say about what happened between “Thor” and “The Avengers.

In your opinion, what happen to Loki when he fell in to the void? Like, what did he experienced? HIDDLESTON: “You mean at the end of Thor?” “Yeah.” HIDDLESTON: “I think he went like with everything else to… Joss Whedon and I discussed it, to a sort of… hum… as… It was like the worst place imaginable. I think, he went to sort of all of the darkest recesses of the Universe, you know. I’m sure he had a brush with… with... with... several brushes with death. I think he ran into the shadiest characters you can find in the Nine Realms. I think he had to rely on his wits to protect himself. Hum… It was really, really, really unpleasant, I think. Umm… and all I have to, you know, I don’t have any frame of reference for that, really, except for imagining what it might be like to be… I don’t know, to be kidnapped by sort of a terrorist cell or something. And have to survive very very frightening and precarious existence. But whatever it was, it was important when Loki came back for the Avengers. Whatever compassion he had left, was absolutely kind a shrivelled to a minimum. Because of the experience he had. Harrowing, I think, and scarring for life. In a way that Odin and Thor, and Frigga find very, very difficult to understand. It’s a good question. Happy Birthday.” [Tom Hiddleston - live on stage Q&A: Popcorn Tax.i October 8, 2013, Event Cinemas George Street, Sydney]

How different is Loki in this film when compared to how he is in Thor? I think that he comes into his own power at the end of Thor. Is he just very angry and bitter in this film? HIDDLESTON: Well, what can I say here? I swear to you that in that building over there, there are sniper rifles. [laughs] I think that what was interesting about the journey of Loki in Thor is that he went from second string and damaged prints to being the God of mischief and God of evil. I think somewhere between the end of Thor and the beginning of The Avengers, Loki has been to the Marvel equivalent of the 7th circle of hell. At the end of Thor you see him let go. He lets go of the spear, he lets go of Asgard, and he lets go of the need of his brother and father’s affection and approval. He has bigger plans now. [Tom Hiddleston THE AVENGERS Set Visit Interview]

HIDDLESTON: “At the end of Thor, Loki lets go of that spear and falls into a wormhole,” Hiddleston said. “And the question in the audience’s mind, one hopes, is what happens to Loki in that moment? And in the time between the end of Thor and the beginning of The Avengers, Loki has explored the shadowy highways and byways of the universe – and he’s met some terrible, terrible people and probably has some awful experiences, which he has survived and overcome. So by the time he arrives in The Avengers, he knows the extents of his power – and he’s unafraid to use it. And more importantly, he’s unafraid to enjoy it.” [The Art of The Avengers]

There’s actually more but I think I’ll stop here.

Overall Tom Hiddleston seems to be a big supporter of something terrible happening to Loki, something equivalent to being ‘to the Marvel equivalent of the 7th circle of hell’* evidently at the hands of someone, the ‘shadiest characters you can find in the Nine Realms’, ‘some terrible, terrible people’.

Basically he says ‘I don’t have any frame of reference for that, really, except for imagining what it might be like to be… I don’t know, to be kidnapped by sort of a terrorist cell or something. And have to survive very very frightening and precarious existence.’

[*7th circle of hell: For who’s curious the 7th circle of hell in Dante Alighieri’s Divina Commedia is where are punished those who had committed violence against others and against themselves (suicides). Loki committed both sins. For Dante people who committed violence against people is immersed in a river of boiling blood with centaurs shooting arrows at those who try to escape while suicides are transformed into bushes and trees, gnarled and thorny, fed upon by the Harpies for all time. Likely that’s not what was done to him but anyway that’s not a nice place to be.]

Yes, Tom Hiddleston never said it was Thanos and his men who ‘kidnapped Loki and put him through the equivalent of the 7th circle of hell’. He’s very vague on this but we now Tom Hiddleston is careful not to give information which could constitute spoilers.

He also never mentions Loki being mind controlled as far as I know.

So we need an even higher source.

We need...

WORD OF GOD, or, in this case the WORD OF GODS, plural, because in the Marvel world there’s plenty of people who can claim authorship for the stories of those characters.

Whedon avoided speculating about his future plans, claiming he had too much on his plate to think about what will come next, but he did reveal that he’s bothered by a bit of unresolved backstory for Loki. At the end of Thor, Loki was emotional conflicted, but at the beginning of Avengers, he’s a demented villain, with no qualms about unleashing alien hell on Earth. Asked about how happened in between, Whedon said: “Well, I can’t tell you exactly what went on because it’s this dark, dark secret that I didn’t make up yet. But, the other day, I had trouble with that because he had this very passionate Shakespearean tragedy thing going on in Thor and then I needed a villain who’s not only capable, but ready and willing and anxious to take on all these heroes. For me, he just basically went on some horrible walkabout… That was pretty much as far as I got.” [Joss Whedon told Comic-Con the question he doesn’t want us to ask ever again]

God confirms what Tom Hiddleston said, Loki went through something terrible... but he had no idea what because he still had to work on it. He didn’t want to establish what. But, as I said, Marvel has plenty of Gods willing to talk.

After Loki fell in the wormhole... where did he fell?

Arriving at the Sanctuary through a wormhole caused by the Bifrost, Loki met the Other, ruler of the ancient race of extraterrestrials the Chitauri, and Thanos. Offering the God of Mischief dominion over his brother’s favorite realm Earth, Thanos requested the Tesseract in return. Gifted with a Sceptre that acted as a mind control device, Loki would be able to influence others. Unbeknownst to him, the Sceptre was also influencing him, fueling his hatred over his brother Thor and the inhabitants of Earth. [MARVERL official web]

So no, after falling into the wormhole Loki didn’t go on a touristic trip through the universe, met someone bad unrelated to Thanos, changed and then met up with Thanos.

He straight out ended up at the Sanctuary and met with the Other who worked for Thanos.

Yes, they don’t say he got tortured in this bit but they confirm the sceptre was influencing him, ‘fueling his hatred over his brother Thor and the inhabitants of Earth’.

There’s some more that comes from Joe Russo and Stephen McFeely.

If you’ve watched every movie in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, you shouldn’t have been too surprised Thanos killed Loki. His death has been a long time coming since 2012’s “Avengers.” You may not recall, but it was Loki’s job in “Avengers” to secure the Tesseract and deliver it to Thanos. Loki never made good on that promise. It was only a matter of time before Thanos came after him to collect. Co-director Joe Russo says Thanos ultimately murders Loki “for disobedience.” “Remember, he [Thanos] had a relationship with Loki, even if it was off-screen where he entrusted him with a duty in ‘Avengers 1’ and Loki failed,” pointed out “Infinity War” screenwriter Stephen McFeely. “He’s [Thanos] making him [Loki] pay,” added Joe Russo. “Thanos has a long memory,” McFeely concluded. [‘Avengers: Infinity War’ director explains why a major death had to happen so early in the movie]

And then... then there’s something that’s even above World of God.

So finally we have...

CANON, aka what the movies say, and they say the weirdest canon lines in this regard if I can say so.

Thanos: [Walks over and drops Loki’s body in front of Thor.] No resurrections this time. [Avengers: Infinity War]

Loki: Is that the only reason you brought us here? To kill us? I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve been killed, so go ahead. Do your worst. [Loki Ep 4]

How all this translates? (aka Word of Dante comes back because God and Saint Paul are just too obscure and canon is no better)

If Loki after falling into the wormhole ended up straight to the Sanctuary, the ones who played the part of the terrorists and lead him to an experience similar to ending in the 7th circle of hell where he had many brushes with death where either Thanos or his men.

Do your pick if the Other took care of it personally, if Thanos did the job or if he let the pleasure to Ebony Maw and what they did to him, if they forced him to fight with others same as Gamora and Nebula where forced to do, with the loser also losing a body part or if they just beat him.

The fact that Loki, in the “Loki” series say he has been killed so many times he lost count and that Thanos in “Avengers: Infinity War” says there will be no resurrection this time seem to be connected.

That Loki as far as we know only attempted suicide by letting himself fall in a wormhole once, and Thanos couldn’t know Loki was given up for dead in Svartalfheim so the idea that Loki was killed many time and that Thanos know he had been resurrected should be connected.

How? That’s beyong my understanding as, as far as I know, no one in Thanos’ group has resurrecting powers. Can the mind stone do it? This would open up another theory.

As for the sceptre controlling him ‘fuelling his hatred over his brother Thor and the inhabitants of Earth’ what does that mean?

That he’s clearly not completely brainwashed as Selvig and Hawkeye.

So which is his level of brainwashing?

Very likely it’s at the same level as the one of the Avengers when they are in the same room and start arguing and the discussion degenerates to the point they seemed about to go at each other while the gem in the sceptre starts to glow, which is something both the script and the novelization reference...

[As the “team” argues, they don’t realize the BLUE GEM on Loki’s sceptre is glowing brightly.] [“The Avengers” Script]

None of them noticed when the gem set into Loki’s sceptre started to glow. [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: The Avengers”]

...and that the visual remark, turning the scene upside down as the gem is in full focus.

The novelization describes them as arguing without even knowing exactly what they’re arguing about.

Tony and Cap squared off over an argument that they couldn’t remember starting. Tony was still mad about the last thing Cap had said to him... whatever it was. [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: The Avengers”]

We also see Bruce picking up the sceptre without realizing, something that’s referenced both by the script and the novel.

BANNER: You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanoff? You wanna know how I stay calm? [BLACK WIDOW and Fury have their hands down to grab their guns.] STEVE: Doctor Banner... put down the sceptre. [BANNER LOOKS DOWN AND IS SHOCKED TO SEE HE’S HOLDING LOKI’S SCEPTRE. The computer beeps. They all turn to it.] [“The Avengers” Script]

“Dr. Banner,” Cap said. “Put down the sceptre.” Bruce looked down. He hadn’t even known he’d picked it up. He looked back up and saw Natasha’s hand on her sidearm. Fury was also ready to draw. The others were drawing back from him as well. Even though he could see what was going on, the hostility in the air was still tick enough that Bruce didn’t know wherever he could back everyone down... or wherever he could back himself down. He could feel the tension rising inside him. He could feel the monster trying to get loose. [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: The Avengers”]

The implication is that the sceptre is influencing them, pulling out their worst feelings and competitively and whatever which matches with what it did with Loki, it fuelled his hate.

It’s interesting how, when Loki arrives on Earth, the gem is glowing...

Also, the stranger held a kind of spear in his right hand. Set into its head, a gem glowed the same icy blue as the energy that had spilled from the Tesseract. [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: The Avengers”]

...and he also looks at the sceptre as if he hadn’t realized having it in his hand.

“Sir,” Fury called as armoured S.H.I.E.L.D. agents closed nearer, “Please put down the spear.” The man looked at the sceptre as if he had only just noticed he had it. Then, slowly, he looked back up at Fury, and a vicious smile spread across his face. [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: The Avengers”]

It’s worth to mention though, in that scene in which the Avengers argue, none of the Avengers has his eyes turning blue, although they weren’t themselves any longer.

So, it’s possible this is the distinction, Clint and Selvig have completely lost their will and are subjugated to Loki’s will, and as a result they’ve the blue eyes, Loki and the Avengers instead only had their mind warped by increasing exponentially their negative feelings to the point they might have started losing focus of the situation and only operate on negative feelings... if that’s make sense. They’re still themselves but their perception is warped so they’re acting in a way that’s not normal for them.

On another note it seems that in Joss Whedon’s Avengers DVD Commentary he said that

Hawkeye’s blue “possessed eyes” were added in post very late in the game, to make it more obvious that he and Eric Selvig were under Loki’s influence. [Secrets Revealed in Joss Whedon’s Avengers DVD Commentary]

This means that originally they weren’t meant to turn blue.

In the novel there’s no mention of it, in the script they’re described just as glowing black and then nothing more.

LOKI: You have heart. [Loki places the tip of the spear against Barton’s chest. Barton’s eye glow black, and he stops resisting. Loki begins controlling other agents around the room. Fury sneak up, grabs the Tesseract, and places it in a briefcase, trying to sneak out.] [“The Avengers” Script]

In the movie instead they turn all black for a moment and then settle on blue.

It’s an unnatural blue though, where Loki’s normal.

But again, this too is a fan explanation. A fan explanation based on canon, but still a fan explanation since God didn’t bother to explain further and at this point I’m afraid he’s not even interested in explaining it since the “Loki” series could have dug on this and instead expressed 0 interest in digging into the past movies.

Sometimes we’ve just to accept that fan theories are all we have and that we can like or dislike them.

And that’s all. Thank you to who remained till the end of this long post!

Okay I have a semi serious ask: how would melone react to a partner who has genophobia but also a raging libido and genuinely wants to be with him but the phobia stops it? I feel like out of everyone in La Squadra, he'd be the best equipped for it

-✨ anon

oh he would definitely be the best equipped for it

melone with a partner with genophobia (phobia of sex) 🍈

HEADS UP: i don't go into detail about like anything that could've caused the phobia but i do discuss going to therapy. keep urselves safe and healthy i love u and melone does too ❤️

18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

his heart hurts for you. it makes him so sad that you feel so afraid of an experience you genuinely and desperately want. sex is so beautiful and natural, seeing someone he cares about feeling barred from that by their own fear just kills him

first of all, he will offer his support, do anything and everything for them. he cares about them and he will be there for whatever they need of him. he wants you to be open with each other, so he'll want to ask a few questions about your boundaries or what not but will make sure it's a conversation (more like continuous conversations) that ur in a good headspace for. he thanks you every time you tell him something new or communicate with him about it

second of all, he encourages them to seek therapy, cause that's what's gonna get you through phobias. and therapy can be fucking scary and hard but anything you need to get you there, he will do it, and he makes sure you know how brave you are.

he'll give you a ride to or from therapy on his bike if you'd like to. if you're feeling sensitive after a difficult session he will do whatever you need, whether that's giving you space (he'll worry but he knows it's necessary) or affection (he has that in droves)

he's excited for you and knows that you're excited too (both in the physical horny way and the emotional claiming this facet of yourself for yourself way) but he doesn't want you to push yourself either. we have all the time in the world to make love, tesoro. there's no need to rush.

he'd be super interested to learn about the methods and stuff you're utilizing with therapy if you're down to talk about it, cause then he can also keep that in mind so ur on the same wavelength ya kno

he's very creative and he will figure out and offer things u can try within ur needs and limits. would you be comfortable trying out phone sex or sexting? how about video? is it touching/being touched that you're more afraid of, or seeing/being seen? are there certain measures he should take? any acts that make you more or less comfortable?

it might be a slow process but that's okay, and every little thing feels so fucking special. the first time he hears you moan, he almost cums instantly, because you're so hot and you've worked so hard to get there and he's just so crazy for everything about you

you control the pace and lead the way. if you're more comfortable with touching him first, he'll whine and moan for everything you give him and tell you how incredible you are in every way. you could just like, exist in his proximity and he'd be happy. when you take his hands and guide him over your clothes, and then under them, he thinks he's died and gone to heaven

hell, he could cum untouched just from getting you off

he goes very slow and is always checking in. do you like this? is it everything you've dreamed of, amore? you're positively delicious. do you want more? i'll give you anything.

he might get a little emotional with you from time to time because he's so happy to see you thriving and thrilled that you want to have this with him

if you'll let him, he'll shower you with praise and affection for just about everything. how good you feel, how good you taste, the sounds you make, your face, the way you breathe or how your thighs tremble when you're close, the way you move your hips, melone could babble on and on about how fucking amazing you are and mean every word of it

and the firsts are special but he cherishes every moment like it's the first time, whether they're moaning or letting him hear/watch them pleasure themself, hearing/watching him, they're touching him or he's touching them. he's convinced that every time they cum an angel gets its wings and it never gets old, even when you get to a point where you're fucking enough to finally satisfy your libido, melone is always thinking about how damn special you are

the MOST tender with aftercare. give you cuddles and kisses, clean you up (if you're down to shower together he'd love that, thinks existing nakedly is very emotionally healthy and might help you feel comfortable), fetch anything u might want, play with your hair and ask if you had fun, what you really liked, is there anything you wanted to talk about, anything that could've been better, stuff to think about or work on, just wanna chat about whatever instead? very very doting

all new things to try are thoroughly discussed beforehand (as it should always be but he wants to be very careful) and you're probably the one to bring up adventurous stuff at first, everyone knows he'll try anything once and has a very wide range of tastes but he doesn't wanna throw u headfirst into kinky shit. ur leading the way!

melone is such a good pick for a partner in this because he's so open, understanding, creative, he isn't shy about sex and finds it so fascinating and wonderful. he's a huge support for you in letting go of your fears and he's happy to be there with you every step of the way

Does anyone else want to know the story behind Blitz's panic buttons like some of them make sense right like the deranged client button, Stolas. But then you get to some of the others and it just brings about more questions. Like the client giving birth one. Did this happen more than once? Or did it only have to happen once before Blitz was like "nope never again I'm adding a button so this doesn't happen again."

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR ASKING ME THIS BECAUSE IT'S SOMETHING I'VE MEANT TO MAKE A POST ON BUT I KEEP FORGETTING!! I actually do have a personal headcanon for how these buttons came to be--and that headcanon iiiiiiiiis:

The buttons are in the exact order of the events that caused them to get added onto the panic board. :D

So, in order, Blitz has felt the overwhelming need to get Moxxie, Millie, and/or Loona's attention while in his office because.....bitch needs more coffee, shat his pants, had a horny client, had a deranged client [I love that this one came after the horny client btw :D], had a client give birth, saw a fucking ghost, and--last and debateably least, the most recent addition of Stolas.

I just.....I'm laughing even as I type this, I just can't deal with the implications there are here. XD

So the "More Coffee" button is absolutely no surprise. Blitz has a caffiene addiction and this is actually something that I'm going to be writing up about more in a separate ask so be on the look out for that one in the future if you want to hear more of my thoughts on it!! Then, sometime down the road, he shat his pants--which, honestly, again, I'm not completely surprised by. But THEN we get to "Horny Client" and this actually interests me for two reasons: 1. I love that it's shown but never spoken that Blitz is like.....one of the hottest people in Hell considering how many people either have or are currently wanting to get into his pants, and 2. Blitz didn't want to have sex with the horny client so hard that he decided to install a panic button for when it happens. I think the second one is particularly interesting because it made me realize that for as dirty as Blitz is, and how unabashed he is when it comes to going all in when he does choose to have sex with someone else, he's never really been horny on main himself. I almost wonder if it has something to do with my first reason where he just knows that he can get sex when he wants it, or if he just genuinely doesn't stress out too hard over sex, but either way.....it kinda makes me wonder just how many times he's had to press that button.

And also, I think, adds a whole extra weight to the fact that Stolas has his own button but that's jumping ahead a bit.

Then we have "Deranged Client" which.....yeah. That one's also pretty par for the course. It's Hell, it's kind of expected that most of the Sinners that are going out of their way to pay I.M.P. to take out someone who's still on Earth would fall into that category. XD

But THEN we get to the client giving birth, and the thing that fascinates me about this one is the fact that it means that Blitz has some clients who aren't Sinners, but Hellborn like himself. See, Sinners [the formerly human souls who populate a good portion of the Pride Ring like Angel Dust, Alastor, and the three Vs] aren't able to reproduce. Therefore, if there's a client in Blitz's office who's giving birth, that client has to be one of the Hellborn [an imp, hellhound, succubus, demon royalty, or some other being who has only ever existed in Hell before].....which opens up some very interesting doors. Why would a Hellborn want to kill a random human on Earth?? My personal headcanon for this is that it only happened the one time, and it was a succubus who was trying to get Blitz to kill the human who knocked her up because he refused to pay child support, and she ended up going into labor in the middle of his office from getting so riled up about the whole thing. :P

And then as if the "Client Giving Birth" button wasn't crazy enough to think about, then we get to "Ghost", which just has me like.....how the fuck does that even work?? Ghosts are in Hell?? Though that makes me wonder if perhaps what it is is that, much like how on Earth, we hear stories about humans being able to see the spirits of those unable to pass on, maybe it works in a similar way in Hell with the Hellborn?? So you can have ghost imps and hellhounds and all of the other naturally born denizens of Hell just kind of pop up randomly on people when they're going about their business. If that's the case, that would honestly be kind of hilarious--and it would be an interesting answer to what happens to the Hellborn when they die, as--unlike Sinners--they do appear to have lifespans and naturally age. I'm really interested to hear what you guys think about this one tho!! How do you think ghosts exist in Hell?? :D

-takes a deep breath-

.....And I don't even really want to say too much about the fact that Stolas has his own button, but I think it says a lot that for someone who supposedly went into this "transactional fucking" arrangement willingly, Blitz still found it necessary to install a button to let the other people in the office know that he didn't want to be alone in the room with Stolas anymore.

“Orientalia”: White Fascination and Nostalgia for China and the Orient

4/11/2021

Denver, CO

CW: Racism, anti-Asian and anti-Chinese sentiment, violence/sexual assault

Preface:

Today was certainly a day. I’ve been on a cross country trek, which I’ve come to call “The Great Journey East”, where I’m driving from my home in the Seattle area to Portland, Maine to ply my usual trade, working aboard some traditionally rigged sailing vessels that operate from the Maine State Pier. I’ve most recently arrived in Denver, CO, after a tumultuous night of camping in un-ideal circumstances on the shores of Great Salt Lake in Utah. I decided to treat myself to a middling hotel downtown to try to affect an aura of urban tranquility before I head out for Wichita in the morning, and then on to see my mother’s family in Oklahoma. The drive thus far has been marked by astounding natural beauty, kind people, and a long series of audio books that I’ve only just begun to make a dent in. I began this journey listening to “Tribe” by Sebastian Junger, which I found to be extremely interesting and helped some of my own understanding of how society today does not serve the community, and how we may one day return to a society where the people come first, as opposed to the individual. After finishing Mr Junger’s audiobook, I turned my ears to a tome that I have put off reading for a long time: “The Chinese in America: A Narrative History” by Iris Chang.

Listening to this audiobook over the last few days, which begins in Qing dynasty China and ends in the modern day, I can say a great many things. I can say that I deeply feel the experiences that were collected by the author and compiled into this book, not only on an intellectual and emotional level, but on a spiritual level. I can say that, despite years of my own research into my familial experiences and the experiences of contemporary Chinese Americans, my level of knowledge was severely lacking, even though I considered myself to be a relatively robust lay-scholar on the topic. I can say that the experience of we Chinese Americans, foreign and natural born, has changed very little in our time here. While circumstances change from person to person, family to family, and era to era, we are all bound together in trends that have haunted our communities, not unlike the tigers that have stalked southeast Asia for time immemorial, striking out when least expected.

All of that, however, is a surface level understanding. Those realities are the first few layers of a complicated and long history of horrific, violent, brutal, and inhuman oppression in the United States.

I began this audiobook believing that I knew most of what I needed, enough to enlighten the odd person in online discourse, or conversation over dinner. Enough to tell-off the casual bigot that accused me and other Chinese people of overblowing our racial, social, and economic anxieties while making them look a fool. I realized very quickly that while I was not wrong in my knowledge, my staunchly anti-racist rhetoric, or my suspicious attitudes towards the US government and law enforcement, I was missing so much of the story. I was not missing the statistics or the legislative history: I was missing word-to-paper stories of my ancestors -- our ancestors -- and the cold, hard, and hellacious reality that they faced when they got here. These realities may have differed from generation to generation (the Chinese washer-man and washer-woman, miner, and restaurateur of the 19th century was faced with markedly different circumstances from the Chinese who fled WWII, the PRC, or settled in other areas of the world during the diaspora), but they are cold and hard, none-the-less.

I have cried more in the last three days than I think I have in the last three years. My heart hurts for our ancestors, our elders, our parents, our siblings, our uncles, our aunties, and our future children as we exist in a country that has committed nearly every atrocity it could think of to rid us from their stolen land.

This was the state of being I’ve come to Denver with. Finally in the privacy of a hotel room, I showered and talked with my partner. She found a book today, written by the child of white missionaries who fled China just before WWII, that was a compilation of “Oriental” inspired needle-work patterns. She shared the preface of this book with me, which I found to be incredibly alarming, and has prompted me to write on the subject of “Orientalism”, the exotic, and how the experience of white Europeans and Americans in China was vastly different from the Chinese people. Out of respect for the author and their work, which I believe was written as an honest tribute to Chinese culture and its influence on them, I am choosing to omit the author’s name and the title of the book in question. While some may see this as underhanded, I am choosing to do so because I do not wish to wage a war of rhetoric with an author who I have very little personal knowledge of, because I believe it is unethical of me to do so.

However, I will be addressing some problematic concepts that are present in the preface of this book, as they are worth speaking about as we attempt to further society’s collective understanding of differential experiences between people and people groups.

Thank you for reading on, as well as for reading my preface. The following issues are things that I have struggled with for a long time, and I hope that my words bring you additional perspective on Chinese American issues.

“The Orient, the Oriental, and Orientalia: A Curious Lens of Exoticism Riddled with Racism”

Today, I saw a word that I had not seen in a very, very long time.

As most any Asian person will tell you, the words “orient” and “oriental” are generally unwelcome descriptors of Asian people and culture. These two descriptors are applied to clothing, architecture, pottery, art, furniture, cookware -- the list keeps going. I often joke to those who use these words, “what am I, a rug to you?”, which normally drives the point home in a friendly way They are both hangers-on from an era that we’d best leave in the past. An era where the Occident and the Orient were opposites of one another, incompatible, and fundamentally in conflict. The two terms saw relatively common usage in the 19th century, and many Euro-Americans considered “the orient” to be interchangeable with “the far east” while the occident was a catch-all word for Euro-American civilizations ranging from western Europe to the New World. It could be said that the Occident and the Orient began as harmless descriptor words that only communicated a vague notion of differences between cultures, they were rapidly weaponized as anti-Asian, especially anti-Chinese, sentiments began to flare in the western world. Imperial Germany used the two terms to great affect, framing the differences between the Occident and the Orient to be far more than cultural and societal. It was a matter of life and death.

The Occident was the pinnacle of industrialized civilization. It was moral and upright, beholden to the Christian god, supported by the titans of industry, government, and cutting-edge military technology. The Orient was backwards, overrun with dirty Chinese heathens who constantly lied, cheated, and stole from the superior whites. The Chinese were looking to enslave white women, turning them into sex slaves or take them as wives so that they could propagate a wretched half-breed race that would overrun the world and mark the end of all Occidental civilization.

This rhetoric was incredibly powerful, and one only needs to look at early anti-Chinese political cartoons and articles to see these words used in incredibly derogatory ways. The other side of the Orient/Oriental dichotomy was steeped in foreign luxury and exoticism, which served to peak the interest of wealthy whites that bought up all kinds of Asian furniture, clothing, fabrics, cookware, and art from unscrupulous dealers and certifiable importers alike. Affluent white women of the 19th century are well-documented as being deeply invested in luxurious goods imported from “the Orient” and marketed as “Oriental” or “Orientalia” to garner societal notoriety, whereas their fathers, husbands, brothers, and sons would have dressing gowns, cravats, and handkerchiefs created out of fine imported silk. All of these goods were considered exotic and other-worldly, which is not a debased outlook for the time, considering that so few westerners had actually managed to travel in the vicinity of China, let alone disembark in one of the few official trading ports open to European traders. This fascination with all things Chinese, entirely divorced from the reality that many Europeans and Americans viewed the Chinese as grave existential threats to white civilization, is not without irony.

While Chinese peasants and workers died in droves from starvation, disease, localized conflict, or at the hands of white Europeans and Americans acting with impunity in a country that was barred from holding them legally accountable for their actions, cargo hold upon cargo hold of Chinese goods were exported for consumption by westerners. These westerners had military and diplomatic presence in China, especially in the mid to late 19th century, often seizing prime real estate in Chinese port cities for international settlements where it was the westerners, not the Chinese, in charge. These ostentatious settlements, coupled with missions run by Christian organizations from all over the western world, exercised great influence with local Qing dynasty officials, and western nationals all throughout the southern coast of China were free to use and abuse the Chinese around them as they please. These prosperous settlements, a highly visible and permanent show of colonization and foreign aggression, were made so by the labor of Chinese workers and peasants. The same workers who were forced into horrific working conditions in and around the settlements while western nationals were free to treat them as they please with no repercussions, ever for outright murder. Any fascination with the Chinese lifestyle, manner of dress, and other items that could be quickly imported to the west as exotic tokens of the Orient was inherently divorced from the horrific reality of daily life within China, and was nearly always a fascination that arose from social tiers that could afford to be ignorant of those realities while directly benefiting from them.

“Orientalia and the Noble Savage”

The westerners’ fascination with all things Orientalia outlines another phenomenon present in the west’s view of China in the 19th and 20th centuries, an phenomenon that Americans are familiar with as it is applied to Indigenous peoples in North America: the Noble Savage.

The Noble Savage idea and stereotype found quick traction with American colonists as they fought to drive out Indigenous peoples from their ancestral lands all over North America. These Indigenous groups, savage as they were perceived to be, were often regarded as principled and noble in their way of life, whether that was seen in their treatment of the lands, natural resources, their art and craftwork, their societal structure, or in how they treated white settlers when they were taken prisoner. While all of this talk of nobility betrayed the slimmest undercurrents of admiration from white settlers towards Indigenous peoples, the second word of the phrase was integral to its application: Savage. Despite these noble ideas and practices, a savage is a savage is a savage. This two-faced admiration served only one purpose -- to communicate the slightest inkling of fake remorse in widespread acts of genocide against people that white settlers hated and chose not to understand.

For the Chinese and Chinese Americans, the idea of the noble savage is easily translated. While Indigenous peoples in North America had a comparatively low level of technology to Americans, the same could not be said of the Chinese. Despite lacking robust gunpowder arms and other advanced forms of military technology, the technological prowess of the Chinese people was without doubt. Massive cities, sprawling agriculture, advanced irrigation, roads, palaces, and so much more was plainly evident to any westerner who arrived on Chinese shores (the same can be said of Indigenous populations throughout the Americas despite the prevailing myth of "primordial wilderness" perpetuated by white settlers) . Despite the different perspectives that westerns had between the two groups, westerners applied the Noble Savage ideal to the Chinese just as quickly and easily as they did to the Indigenous peoples across the oceans.

While the Chinese were obviously proficient in architecture, engineering, and in art, many westerners were quick to follow up any admiration of their eastern counterparts with staunch, racial criticism, highlighting their savagery in their daily lives such as gambling, long fingernails, or their seemingly archaic dress. Much of the criticism leveled on the basis of savagery had to deal with the assumption that Chinese men would, without hesitation, steal from white men and kill them, while selling white women into slavery. And while this was based in very loose reality (the triad societies of Canton did, indeed, participate in the sex trafficking of Chinese women to California and the Coolie trade that sent enslaved Chinese men to work on plantations in South America), the fears were stoked by ferocious anti-Chinese rhetoric in Europe and America.

The Chinese who emigrated to America were seen no different, and while public opinion waxed and waned, it was always understood that the Chinaman was a noble savage at best, and the earthly embodiment of evil at his worst. While modern Chinese and Chinese Americans may not be subject to the Noble Savage ideas from two centuries ago, it is not uncommon for Americans, especially white American youths, to take this idea as gospel, tormenting their Asian classmates throughout their formative years.

“China’s Sorrow: Nostalgia for a China that did not exist”

(As a forewarning, this the section where I may become quite emotional.)

Something that I encountered today was nostalgia. Not my own nostalgia, but the nostalgia of an author who grew up in a mission or international settlement in pre-WWII China, and fled from the country just before Pearl Harbor. This author, who shall remain nameless for the reason I stated in the preface of this essay, spoke highly of China’s sights and sounds, the people, the food, the craftwork, and of their pleasant life as the child of white missionaries in China. They spoke on how the pace of life in China was different than America, and that they much preferred the comforts of life in the Orient, surrounded by Oriental people and objects, enamored with Orientialia well into their adult life.

I found this passage to be absolutely appalling. I understand that I may be picking the wrong fight here, but this is my emotional response to an issue that I have found difficult to articulate that managed to, somehow, someway, manifest succinctly in the preface of a book that I randomly encountered. I lay my thoughts here:

White missionaries in China lived privileged lives, much like the other westerners that inhabited international settlements all throughout the major cities of the country. Missionaries, like the other westerners, were an extremely privileged class, living privileged lives in a country that was being torn apart by colonization, internal strife, famine, disease, and violence. While the average Chinese peasant in late Qing, early republic-era China had to contend with the daily realities of starvation, material scarcity, and the reality that a western could beat them or kill them and face no legal consequences for that action. Merchants were forced to deal with countless one-sided trade and land treaties, while government officials struggled to keep the country together, if they weren’t themselves contributing to the horrendous reality. Life in international settlements for western nationals is often reminisced upon as idyllic, quaint, and prosperous, which paints a stark contrast to their Chinese neighbors’ experiences. The westerners were off-limits, exempt from legal prosecution, and largely able to conduct themselves as they saw fit, even when their conduct directly endangered Chinese lives.

Meanwhile, outside of these international settlements, war ravaged the country. When the Qing dynasty fell and the Republic of China was established, the country fractured. The nationalist government was constantly at war, sometimes with itself, sometimes with bandits and warlords, sometimes with organized crime, and most of all with the Chinese Communist Party. The Koumintang government, in the wake of Sun Yat-sen’s death, saw Chiang Kai-shek seize power. The Japanese began to aggressively push their borders into China, fighting with superior military technology and training while the national army faltered from unwilling conscripts led into disastrous battles by inept, corrupt, and tyrannical officers. The CCP fought a guerilla campaign against the KMT that further muddied the conflict, with innocents caught between two radical and violent sides while Japan tightened the noose. Communist and Nationalist fought together against the Japanese one day, and may have fought against each other the next.

While the country was torn apart, the westerners in international settlements were unconcerned with the wars raging across the land. They continued to live their idyllic lives until the war was literally at their doorstop -- only then did they become concerned with the plight of the Chinese people.

Only then did the westerners in international settlements care for the circumstances of the average Chinese peasant in the countryside or worker in the city. They could bear no concern while they benefited from cheap Chinese labor, horrific working conditions, or while some of them got away with murder. They could bear no concern while Europe and America colonized China and ransacked the economy. And they could bear no concern for the Chinese being tortured, beaten, raped, and murdered in the countryside, far from their gates, until it was on their doorstep.

The nostalgia that some westerners feel for China, a China that existed before the chaos of the 1920s onwards, is propped up by lives of privilege and white-washed memories that ignore the struggle of the Chinese people right under their noses.

They feel nostalgia for a China that did not exist, because the one that existed was destroyed in part by their international settlements and the colonization efforts of their home countries.

This nostalgia for a China that was at least slightly better than the chaos of the 1920s through the 1940s, or better than the Cultural Revolution, or better before Tiananmen Square exists also within the Chinese immigrant community. But this nostalgia strikes in a way that the other does not.

While the westerner who lived in an international settlement may be able to intellectually sympathize with the Chinese experience during this tumultuous time, it is the Chinese themselves who bear the actual scars. Many of our elders long for a prosperous China as well, but there is a key difference in this: our elders, our family, sometimes we ourselves, bear the scars of the past. Our nostalgia is momentary, continuously shattered by the very real heartbreak that the Chinese and Chinese American community has been subject to over the last century. While circumstances and perspectives differed, the China that some of us long for is just as much a painful sore on our souls as it is a pleasant memory. The pain, the loss, the grief, anxiety, and struggle.

It is a nostalgia for our ancestral land that cannot be found anywhere else, as precious as it is painful.

Hsu Liang Yu

Fic: Falling (August Walker x Reader)

Summary: angel/demons AU. You’re tired of seeing humans destroying Father’s creation so you decide to help August Walker achieve his goals.

Author’s note: This one was written for the skype prompt.

@hnryycvll @witcherwritings @yoursecretsmutblog @toomanystoriessolittletime @penwieldingdreamer @onceiwasanun

Wordcount: 3790

Warnings: smut (rough sex)

Your nose crinkled with distaste as you walked the streets, making sure to keep enough distance between yourself and the other passersby. The last thing you wanted was one of these filthy humans touching your celestial skin.

Why did Father insist on sending you down to this cesspool of sins that was Earth to watch and report back? You would never understand, but you hated every minute. In your eyes, this generation of humanity was beyond redemption. Corrupted and dirty, only caring about profit and pleasure.

Hedonistic vermin!

They shouldn’t be allowed to exist and continue to taint Father’s creation. Millenia had passed and they have profaned every aspect of this planet. The air was putrid, the earth rotten, the rivers poisoned…

Everything that was once good and beautiful was slowly dying and still, Father refused to let you intervene. He granted humans free will for a reason and they needed to want to be saved.

As you watched them around you, the filth infesting every inch of what was once a paradise, you weren’t all that confident in their ability to repent and turn back to light. And even though Father forbade it, you decided you could just give a little nudge in the right direction. You weren’t disobeying per se, just… facilitating things. Speeding their opportunity to repent for their wrongs.

You took a seat at the coffee shop and to anyone who looked, you were nothing more than a simple tourist savoring some fresh coffee, one of the few things made by humans you actually enjoyed. The Eiffel Tower behind you, illuminated by the bright afternoon sun as you discreetly watched the man sitting three tables away, reading his newspaper.

To you, most humans look the same, varying only in the disgusting rotting of their souls, but even though August Walker had one of the darkest souls you had ever encountered, you could deny he was beautiful.

Tall and thick, his shoulders and torso broad and housing solid and well-defined muscles. His face looked almost as if sculpted in the best of marble, giving him sharp lines and features. His dark hair combed neatly, hid some of the wayward curls that would sometimes fall over his eyes whenever he was doing extraneous activities.

His lips, soft, plush, and pinked by the heat of his beverage, were shaped in a perfect cupid bow that widened beautifully when a stray smile crossed his features. A rare sign that made its apparition even more special. His eyes were the blue hue of deep ocean waters and probably just as cold, his gaze always calculating and assessing his surroundings, the superior intellect obvious in them.

Yes, it was undeniable that August was a fascinating specimen of human and if what you had seen of him in the last six months was any indication, he was just perfect for what you needed. A couple of years ago he had tried to detonate plutonium bombs in an attempt of forcing the world to see the light.

He understood that sometimes to archive peace, some bloodshed must happen. Death brought hope as paradoxical as that seemed. He nearly died in his endeavor, but it seemed to only strengthen his resolve and here he was, ready to try once again and you were more than willing to help.

You couldn’t bring the change yourself, that was against the rules, but it wasn’t uncommon to offer some divine inspiration to some selected few when a situation called for it and that was your plan. To offer August with a little guidance and protection to make sure he succeeded this time around.

Finishing your coffee and setting the money on the table, you stood from your seat intending to find a new advantage position to watch August. Maybe from one of the roofs of the buildings surrounding the café, but you only managed to walk a few streets before a solid body connected to yours, pushing you against the wall. You were so surprised by the audacity of this bug to touch you that you didn’t realize at first that it was August. Not until his mouth brushed against your ear, his breath ghosting your skin.

“Why are you following me?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His grip on your arm tightened, tugging your wrist higher against your back and forcing your shoulder in an unnatural angle. He pressed you tighter against the wall, the rough brick surface scraping your cheek. If you were a human, it would be painful, but as it was, it was just annoying, and you had to close your eyes to hide the burning celestial fire in them.

“Don’t make me ask again. I’d hate to damage that pretty face.”

You took a deep breath, containing your fury before you dared to open your eyes, glancing sideways to catch a glimpse of August.

“I’m a free agent, much like yourself and I’ve been following you because I think we can help each other.”

“Is that right?” he snorted but let go of your arm, allowing you to turn around and face him, but didn’t step away. Instead, he caged you in, strong arms at each side of your head as he looked down at you, his eyes piercing as he weighed your words. “And how is that?”

For a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to reply. Now that you were this close, you could detect this strange, but familiar lingering smell. Something that reminded you of home but diluted and disguised by the bouquet of scents of metal and gunpowder, and sin that whiffed off August. Yet, that sweetness was undeniable, like fresh rain in the morning, clean and pure and suddenly you knew why August was so appealing, unlike all the other humans. He wasn’t a human at all.

“Oh.” You breathed out dumbly as you looked at him, noticing the realization coloring his eyes pitch black as his lips drew into a smirk.

“Does Daddy know you’re down here in the slums?”

“What do you think?” This time, you didn’t bother to hide your flames, pushing against August, but it only made him hold you tighter against the wall.

“And you say we can help each other?” he said, one perfect eyebrow raised. “Isn’t protecting humanity the gist of your job description?”

“I’ll be protecting them…” you replied, cocking your head to the side to look at him. “Giving future generations a chance to be better. There cannot be peace without suffering. Isn’t that what you say?”

For a moment, you just stared at each other, sizing one up, making sure if you could trust one another. You were natural enemies after all. You, a celestial angel. Him, a fallen one turned to a demon.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked.

“If the species die, game over,” he replied, his tongue sneaking out to wet his lips and you couldn’t help but follow the motion. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

“Then like I said, we can help each other.” August just nodded, seemingly convinced, but not even remotely inclined to let you go.

“You know what can happen to you if He finds out?” August cast his gaze upwards and you nodded.

“I’m doing His work. Even if He can’t see it.”

Time ticked by slowly as the two of you stared at each other, assessing one another, trying to discover how far you could trust the other if you could trust at all. An angel and a demon working together? Unthinkable was the only thing that came to mind.

Finally, August let you go and against your better judgment, you actually missed his touch. How strange.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper handing it over to you. Hesitant, you glanced at it noticing a name scribbled down in neat and elegant handwriting.

“Who is this?”

“Someone in need of inspiration…” August smirked. “Of the divine kind.”

“Why?” Your thumb brushed over the letters of the name, touching the soft indentations the pen left behind.

“Now, now, birdie, you don’t expect me to just trust you, do you? Leaps of faith are your kind of deal, not mine. Do this and maybe I’ll consider telling you the rest.”

Again, you stared at each other. You hated that tilt of his perfect lips and the dancing glow of wickedness in his eyes. The way they seem to mock you. You wanted to wipe them away somehow. With your fist. Or your lips.

Instead, you unfolded your wings, making August jump back startled as the strong bones and muscles stretched wide, the pearly white feathers glowing in the sun like bright diamonds, blinding and beautiful. You could see the awe in his eyes, and it was your time to smirk as you offered him a hand.

“How long has it been since you flew, August?”

“A few eons,” he stepped closer to you, ignoring your hand and circling your waist with his arms, his embrace tight, his fingers sneaking under your clothing, exploring the juncture of feather and flesh and you couldn’t hide the shiver that ran through your back.

You wrapped your arms around his strong neck, fingers threading through the soft curls on his nape before you looked up, bending your knees and canting your wings so you could take flight with August’s body pressed against yours.

It was a short journey from where you met August to the man’s apartment and you landed on the balcony with a soft thud, both of you cloaked from view by your powers as you walked into the cluttered flat that reeked of chemicals.

The man in question was perched on a stool, peering into a microscope, looking up periodically to make notations on his notepad, before his gaze returned to the equipment.

At each step you took closer to him, it almost felt like you were crossing a wall of his foul smell. It was rancid as if the man that hadn’t showered in days, mixed with the overly sweet and putrid stench of decaying food. You gagged a little and even August seemed bothered by the cloud of odor that stubbornly tried to cling to your skin.

He had better luck than you because he could keep a distance. You needed to move closer, your lips almost brushing against the man’s ear as you let out a heavy exhale, the air billowing from your nose and mouth a solace of purity against the filth.

You watched as the man breathed in deep, his eyes taking the familiar flick of flame, just a pale comparison of yours but his hand moved against the paper, drawing out incomprehensive formulas by instinct. Once he exhaled, his eyes cleared, his hand stopped, and he looked down in awe at his own work, scrambling to find his phone.

Watching over his shoulder you saw him browse through his contacts, finding the name Lark and sending him a short message:

Formula completed. The toxin will be ready in 12 hours.

As soon as he hit send, you heard a noise and turned to see August pulling out his own phone, his lips drawing into a smirk as he met your eyes. Now you knew his plans.

“Where will it be released?” you asked once the two of you left the chemist’s apartment and returned to the café where it all started. This time, sharing a table, the orange rays of sunset surrounding your both, and painting a gorgeous view, reminding once more why you were doing this.

“In every major city of first world countries.” There was a quiet detachment in August’s voice as if he didn’t care one way or the other. “It kills fast and spreads even faster. The economy will crumble in weeks. They’ll have to build it up from the ground. The trial run will be tonight. Here.”

You swirled the black liquid in your cup, watching the spirals forming like a tiny tornado. You did not regret your actions, but there was deep sorrow for the consequences, not because of the humans but because you knew how this would pain Father. He was strangely attached to these vermin that walked the Earth.

“Then it’s done.” You raised to your feet, shielding your eyes with sunglasses. “Our association ends here.”

“Doesn’t have to,” August spoke, his blue eyes swimming with something you didn’t recognize as he raised himself from his own seat, coming to stand too close to you and offering you his hand. “We could… extend this partnership.”

You should turn around and walk away. The things his voice promised were too dangerous to contemplate and you shouldn’t be thinking about them or him. Your mission was done, and you should go back home. Wait for Father’s judgment of your deeds but what would be the point? To see the White City one last time? To be reminded of all you would lose for the rest of your existence? Prolong you suffering?

You took August’s offer, letting him guide you to his hotel. The room’s window panels overlooking the skyline and the lights of the city like twinkling stars in the night as you contemplated the view, imagining them as each one of the humans you were tasked to watch over, shining like little fireflies that soon would have their lights extinguished.

You felt August hovering behind you seconds before you saw his reflection on the window, the warmth of his body seductive and tempting you to just lie back against his chest. He handled you a glass of deep red wine, his thick fingers trailing over your arm as he pulled back, making you shiver.

“Why bother? Alcohol has no effect on us,” you said, tilting your head back to look at him and his lips drew into that familiar smirk.

“Because it tastes good.” He sipped from his drink, the liquid tinting his mouth of blood-red before August’s attention shifted somewhere else, his smirk widening. “It’s starting.”

You looked back out the window wishing you could see the beginning of the ruin. You wanted to walk among the dying pest, watch them desperately claiming the heavens for forgiveness. Maybe later, right now, the way August’s mouth pressed against your neck, soft and teasing as he tasted you demanded all of your attention.

“I never fucked an angel before,” he commented and you turned to watch him.

You had never been with a demon either. Or anyone for that matter. Neither had your vessel. They needed to be pure to contain the power of divinity. And soon enough, you wouldn’t be anything, your destiny beyond your sight might as well try it.

Stepping closer to August’s warmth, you let your free hand move over the soft fabric of his shirt, tracing the shapes of his chest as you watched his eyes, letting him know you accepted his offer. As soon as you did, his mouth was over yours in a hard, demanding kiss, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling closer and laying claim to your mouth.

You had never felt something this. Sure you could access the memories of your vessel and she had kissed before, quick little pecks on the lips or slow, timid kisses, but nothing with this searing passion and you could feel a fire starting deep inside you as August devoured your mouth, rough and biting, throwing his glass aside along with yours so he could touch all of you.

With his now free hand, he explored the plains of your lower back, cupping your ass until your pressed flush against him, feeling his hardness against your lower belly as he guided backward to the couch, taking a seat and just looking at you.

“Take those off,” he ordered, looking at you with dark eyes a certain hunger burning deep in them. You obeyed without a word, stripping for him and letting his gaze run over the small frame of your vessel. “So beautiful, birdie.”

You were surprised by the gentleness of his touch as he led you to his lap, making you straddle his thick legs, your center in full view for his pleasure. This time, when he caught you by your hair, he tugged your head back hard and your scalp burned slightly, making you whimper.

Teeth and lips attacked your neck and jaw leaving sharp, stinging bites and suckles that had you wincing and flinching despite the deep need taking hold inside you. How strange were humans? They possessed such soft flesh but enjoyed inflicting and receiving so much pain

His other hand cupped and squeezed your breasts, fingers pinching and pulling your nipples until you were arching and rocking against the bulge in his pants, steady flow of moans and incomprehensible pleas coming from your mouth almost against your will, your center hot, wet and throbbing as if summoning something to complete it.

“Let me see them,” August growled against your neck, his beard scratching your skin, leaving bright red marks to accompany the purple ones that were beginning to form.

You unfolded your wings, spreading them wide and they nearly occupied the entire length of the room. August ran his fingers over the feather covering the strong muscle, descending to the juncture of your back almost in awe.

“You’re going to miss them,” he said, meeting your eyes. “Sometimes, it will feel like they are there again and you can just soar free but when you look back, there’s nothing but burnt stumps.”

You let your hands move down his chest, undoing his buttons and pushing the dark shirt over his shoulders, but when your curious fingers moved down his shoulder blades, August caught your wrists, tightening to the point of pain before bringing them down to his lap and over his hard and pulsing shaft.

“If you want to touch something, touch this.”

You obeyed, rubbing him through his slacks, watching as August leaned his head back, lips drawn into a smug smile. Especially when you moved to your knees between his open legs, undoing his zipper and buttons so you could free his cock.

“Isn’t this a lovely sight?” his voice was laced with amusement as he looked at you. “How many demons have ever brought angels to their knees?”

“Don’t make me regret this,” you warned, hand exploring the thick hardness of his cock, feeling the skin velvety and hot, the veins pulsing as you stroked him.

“A little too late for that, birdie,” August scoffed, grabbing you by the hair and tugging hard enough to bring tears to your eyes as he pushed his length past your lips, making you choke. “You have already sinned, might as well enjoy the ride.”

He used your mouth to his pleasure, shoving his cock down your throat until you were gagging and spluttering, unable to breathe. Strangely enough, his treatment of you seemed to only ignite the burning heat inside you, making you moan and tremble, your arousal running down your thighs as you pressed them together to relieve some of the burning emptiness of your cunt.

This shouldn’t feel this good. It was like every second that passed, August’s touches became scorched in your skin, vibrant and bright, making that exhilarating fire run through your veins, urging your body to welcome his claim, receive his thrusts like they were the bridge to your new paradise. His grunts and growls, your heavenly music.

You nearly cried when he pulled back from your mouth, the only connection between you two became the string of spit and precum clear under the iridescent lights of the room.

“You enjoyed that, birdie?” he asked with a smirk, bending down to kiss you as he brought you back to his lap, his cock hard and twitching against your waiting cunt. “You enjoy how I use you?”

“Yes.” You confessed, sighing as his rough fingertips trailed up your thigh, finding your soaked center to play and explore. “Please, don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” August declared pushing two fingers inside you, making you hiss and buck, pleasure like sharp shards cutting you open against your will, revealing that hidden need within. “So fucking tight.”

There was nothing gentle about his touch. It wasn’t about you or your pleasure. That was an unintended consequence that you embraced and succumbed to, rolling your body against the fingers penetrating you, his thumb rubbing and swirling your clit to make you wide and wet enough for him.

As August felt satisfied with his preparation, he pulled his fingers back, making you whimper at the loss but soon enough he was guiding your hips up, lining you with his cock and pushing inside you, making you nearly scream as he invaded you so deeply, not stopping until he was sheathed completely inside you.

“Feels perfect, love,” he grinned, licking the salt of your stray tears from your cheeks before he kissed your eyes and smacked your ass to make you move.

You started slowly, grinding on his lap and sending sparks of pleasure up both of your spines. You could see August’s smile widening at the thrill of your walls hugging and squeezing him as you rolled your hips, dragging out the feel of his thick cock pressing against your walls.

Soon, you picked up your pace, lifting yourself with the help of his hands on your hips and bouncing down on his cock. Never in your existence, you had felt this full and completed. Never you felt your body burn with such bright heat, sweat slicking down your skin as wave after wave of unimaginable bliss surged through you as if you were a little, fragile boat trying to endure a storm that threatened to claim you.

The faster you moved, the faster the feeling grew, and it became almost like a tide once August started meeting your movements, thrusting up every time you bounced down in perfect synchronicity. Before you were ready, you were swallowed by pleasure, the fire inside you erupted and consumed you.

You arched and cried out to the skies, your vision blacking out and the heat spreading. You felt it devouring your wings and the searing pain mingled with your ecstasy, occupying every inch of your conscience.

Through all, August didn’t stop moving, didn’t stop thrusting into you as if his pleasure only increased from your own disgrace and it wasn’t until your wings were completely consumed that he finally stilled beneath you, spilling his seed hot and thick inside you, his groans muffled against the crook of your neck.

“Welcome to the fallen, birdie,” his whispered once he caught his breath, his kisses against you jaw almost caring. “You’re one of us now.”

xxx

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The ACOTAR Series is a Romantic/Gothic Horror Stage and Only Nesta Got the Memo

Not even SJM knows what’s going on.

Ok, this is going to seem off the rails but bear with me.

So I'm a big fan of Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë (top 5 books and all that jazz) and I was thinking about it because it deals with themes of the Other and the supernatural, Nature as Character, the overlap of the animalistic and human, blurring of established binaries...fun, Romantic shit like that. Interestingly, this overlaps with how SJM illustrates her world and characters a lot of the time, hence why I was considering it while working on my Nesta project. I’ve mentioned before that Nesta really gives me Byronic heroine vibes and that’s a character construct of precisely this literary tradition.

I started thinking about Heathcliff and Cathy and how they're ridiculously extra and just feel the most intense emotions towards each other but also towards literally everything (nothing half-assed ever, this is a Romantic novel after all). I then remembered how so many people ship them, but like in earnest, in a totally aspirational way. It's not a #cursed ship to them at all. It's...romantic to them not Romantic. I even read often that people quote it at their weddings, specifically the infamous "two souls" quote.

Then I had an epiphany. I was like "wait, what if SJM is one of those people?? What if she has the energy of a Cathy/Heathcliff earnest shipper and that's why all her ships are messy??" Because if that is the case, my friends, oh boy oh boy would it explain so much. I will post some sections from Wuthering Heights:

Doesn’t the acotar series seem like a 1/50 dilution of that energy?? And that is barely a taste of all the spiciness this book has to offer. To illustrate further: SJM gave us the F/eysand suicide pact and the near-death battlefield Nessian scene. One is certainly more outlandish than the other, but both are the result of intense emotions. To that Emily Brontë raises the following: Heathcliff asking the sexton to dig up Cathy’s grave to see what’s up because her ghost has been haunting him since he personally dug up her grave 18 years prior and she has been haunting him ever since. He later demands to be buried in the same exact grave when he dies so they can decompose together. They both married other people though which only adds to the mess. (I am not lying to you the Romantic tradition really gave us these gems lmao. As an aside, Mary Shelley was also a writer of the Romantic tradition and she confessed her love to husband Percy Bysshe Shelley on her mother’s grave. Her mother was liberal feminist icon Mary Wollstonecraft by the way which only makes this even more amazing. Additionally, biographers believe that the Shelleys also had sex there. Talk about Romantic 😉.)

Then I had ANOTHER thought! (Dangerous)

If we read the series from the point of view of just another YA high fantasy things might get a bit boring because the world-building is honestly lazy and the magic system is pretty soft, which isn’t a pre-requisite in high fantasy (The Lord of the Rings has a soft magic system) but it's not the norm and it doesn't pay off in this series. Not to mention that the plot is pretty lackluster and derivative. To add to that the romantic and sexual relationships are questionable in their healthiness and consequently are the source of much argument in the fandom. 

But, dear reader, if we think about the ACOTAR series as being a sort of thematic and ideological 21st century YA homage to the Romantic tradition of the 19th century (within which Gothic Horror also lives), things get REALLY, REALLY SPICY.

No longer do we just have a romance fantasy with messy, hyper-emotional, animalistic characters who constantly partake in morally grey situations rife with dubious dynamics. No longer does plot really matter. No longer do we require quasi-scientific descriptions of the world and the magical system. No! All that matters now are the characters and the mood. Now we have potential! Add a lot of Nature ambiance: expanses of dark woods, great mountains, the unknowable and sublime energy of the ocean, a violent rainstorm/hurricane/tsunami, an impending snowstorm whose intensity reflects the growing emotional intensity of the characters as the story goes along (I’m looking at you impending snowstorm in acofas that curiously matches the growing complexity of Nesta’s emotional state). Blur the lines between any imaginable category: life and death, human and animal, known and unknown, Self and Other, beautiful and monstrous, good and evil, masculine and feminine, the list goes on. Most importantly make your readers uncomfortable by frustrating their desires to sort things into easy binary categories and don’t apologise for making them question their assumptions about the world, morality, gender, and any other kind of previously constructed Order. 

Basically write the story with Dionysus-in-a-Greek-tragedy energy and bring to us mere mortals artful Chaos.

Once that is done we can have a literal Romantic/Gothic Horror story.  The Acotar series could have been this unapologetically, with the added element of being told through the eyes of the "Cathy" character instead of through the lens of a third person getting second-hand accounts about what went on. This whole series is honestly enough of a chaotic mess of Byronic-like heroes and heroines and cursed familial relationships that it could have been that. That alone is peak entertainment. The problem, however, and the main reason why I can’t really say that this series truly delivered this wackiness is that SJM committed the act of not fully committing to the bit (very un-Romantic of her, I know). Now, I am not saying that SJM actually intended this. I’m just saying it really could have accidentally been this genius with some tweaks. Unfortunately, she made the crucial mistake of trying to justify too much, trying to make things too neat, too tidy, too sensical (in other words: the reason we really can’t have nice things). 

I could end this here, lamenting the potential of what SJM had set-up for us were it not for one element, one gift:

Nesta 

OHOHOHO DO THINGS GET GOOD HERE SO BUCKLE UP

Most of the characters refuse to fully commit to the bit in their desire to satisfy modern sensibilities, by which I of course mean they want ridiculous things like political power, to conquer lands, to be a Girl Boss, to get married, have kids, celebrate holidays, converse about mundane things, be relatable, etc. You know, pretty pedestrian stuff that only requires a bit of genetic luck, a sprinkle of energy, and the right circumstances within the world of Acotar. I would like to reiterate the beginning of this paragraph: most of the characters. 

Let’s say you’re stubborn and you decide to still read the series through the lens of the Romantic/Gothic tradition, what happens then? 

The most hilarious thing (for the Nesta stans that is. The antis would probably hate this)

Nesta, based on what we know about her through Feyre and the limited amount of other scenes, is the only character who really takes the performance seriously. She's the only one that SJM hasn't managed to confine through justification. Nesta just shows up and simply refuses to make sense (her POWER what a queen 👑). She is endlessly fascinating because she just exists in her world on her terms, established categories be damned, and in this manner she frustrates not only the sensibilities of the characters in the stories but those of the reader as well. This double duty is, I suggest, the result of the other characters not fully inhabiting the nebulous world of Romantic characters and thus being a little too plausible and understandable even if they are not justifiable. 

Ok, you may say, but I relate so much to Nesta. I do understand her. I don’t justify all of her actions, but I understand where she is coming from. (You’re not alone, friend. I like to think these things too. Alas, we are but plebs).

To that I reply; Nesta does things, certainly, and we can spend hours trying to explain through extrapolation, educated guesses, and personal experience why she did those things, but the fact is we really don't know why. We are never explicitly told. Our insight into who she is and her motivations comes predominantly from the understanding of her youngest sister and from our own interpretation of the actions she takes. I must make clear that our own interpretations are rooted in pre-established assumptions about what is sensical and orderly in our own world and in our own lives. We cannot interpret with the tools available to us that which may be, by definition, unfathomable. It is simply paradoxical. Nesta, as we currently know her, is a construct derived from a limited number of scenes and our interpretations and projections of these scenes. Even the scenes where we get third person narration don’t explicitly tell us her motivations and her logic. For all we know there really is no comprehensible reason for her actions and that is endlessly amusing to me in how utterly Romantic it is. Acosf may and likely will change this of course, but as it stands, Nesta is a whole Romantic character. Her divisiveness in fandom and in the narrative could be due in part to her refusal to fit the discrete categories available in her world and ours. 

Isn’t that wonderful?

To illustrate this a bit more I will share some details SJM gives us about her/ elements she sets up that fit in with the characteristics of the Romantic tradition (these are not exhaustive by any means):

The absolute pettiness (and extra-ness) of being so angry at her father’s inaction that she is willing to starve to death to see if he does something.

How in Acowae she is described as shifting between emotions as if she were changing clothes and feeling everything too strongly (probably to the point of destruction)

She is constantly being compared to animals, even when she is still human. Granted, SJM compares everyone to animals, but that strengthens the blurring of lines between usually discrete categories. It is still most powerful when used as a comparison when she is human because it dehumanises Nesta.

Often, SJM describes her characters as forces. Forces of nature, for example. Acofas is full of details like this in relation to Nesta. There is a storm brewing leading up to the solstice party and it is in full swing when she arrives at the townhouse. The language used there suggests that Nesta herself may be the storm (against the onslaught of Nesta). It really adds to the Maleficent energy tbh.

She is often associated with death post her transformation

She is Other even to Others. She was Made like Elain, Feyre, and Amren in a sense, but the process of her specific transformation differentiates her greatly from the others. As it is, she doesn’t fit in anywhere

Her intense attachment to her femininity and its expression are at odds with the ideas and assumptions about the performance of womanhood and a woman’s role in her world and even in ours. She is unapologetically feminine in her physical presentation, but her character, her thoughts, and possibly even desires transgress the unwritten rules of acceptable femininity (unfortunately there still are abject expressions of femininity in our ‘”progressive” mileux

She displays in many of her actions a disrespect towards authority and to the status quo. This is particularly notable when her intensely polarised sense of right and wrong is aggravated.

Her self-destructiveness. This is referred to most strongly in Acofas, but I would say she was remarkably blasé about self-preservation in Acowar as well

She is described as intelligent, cunning, ruthless, attractive, and prone to debilitating extremes of emotionality. All of these are characteristics of Byronic heroes, a subtype of the Romantic hero

Here are a bunch of quotes that touch on many of the elements that I have discussed above:

“I looked at my sister, really looked at her, at this woman who couldn’t stomach the sycophants who now surrounded her, who had never spent a day in the forest but had gone into wolf territory...Who had shrouded the loss of our Mother, then our downfall, because the anger had been a lifeline, the cruelty a release. But she had cared--beneath it she had cared, and perhaps loved more fiercely than I could comprehend, more deeply and loyally.” 

--Acotar, emphasis mine, note the strong emotions. This is a recurring element for Nesta.

“Cassian’s face went almost feral. A wolf who had been circling a doe...Only to find a mountain cat wearing its hide instead.” 

--Acomaf, animal comparison

“Nesta is different from most people,” I explained. “She comes across as rigid and vicious, but I think it’s a wall. A shield--like the ones Rhys has in his mind.” “Against what?” “Feeling. I think Nesta feels everything--sees too much; sees and feels it all. And she burns with it. Keeping that wall up helps from being overwhelmed, from caring too greatly.”

--Acomaf, emphasis mine

“I knew that she was different [...] Nesta was different [...] as if the Cauldron in making her...had been forced to give more than it wanted. As if Nesta had fought after she went under, and had decided that if she was to be dragged into hell, she was taking the Cauldron with her.”

--Acomaf, Nesta had her own plans for the Cauldron what a queen

“Something great and terrible.”

--Acowar, referring to her eyes. Oooh, spooky Nesta 👻

“The day she was changed, she...I felt something different with her [...] like looking at a house cat and suddenly finding a panther standing there instead.”

--Acowar, a two in one here: difference + animal comparison. Boy does SJM really go heavy when establishing Nesta as Other.

“‘Not in flesh, not in the thing that prowls beneath our skin and bones...’ Amren’s remarkable eyes narrowed. ‘But...I see the kernel, girl.’ Amren nodded, more to herself than anyone. ‘You did not fit--the mold that they shoved you into. The path you were born upon and forced to walk. You tried, and yet you did not, could not fit. And then the path changed.’ A little nod. ‘I know--what it is to be that way. I remember it, long ago as it was.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’“

--Acowar, show don’t tell gets thrown out the window here, but it is useful for the present purposes

“What if I tell you that the rock and darkness and sea beyond whispered to me, Lord of Bloodshed? How they shuddered in fear, on that island across the sea. How they trembled when she emerged. She took something--something precious. She ripped it out with her teeth. What did you wake that day in Hybern, Prince of Bastards?

What came out was not what went in [...] How lovely she is, new as a fawn and yet ancient as the sea. How she calls to you. A queen as my sister once was. Terrible and proud; beautiful as a winter’s sunrise.”

--Acowar, who knew rocks, darkness, and the sea were such gossips, but look how many connections to nature! To be compared to the sea, a significant example of the sublime, is peak Romanticism. If any of you have read Moby Dick, think about what the ocean and the white whale might have represented there and how that might relate to Nesta.

“I think the power is death--death made flesh.”

--Acowar, Feyre referring to the possible nature of Nesta’s power. Alluding to her powers possibly being related to death is quite significant because that is something most of us cannot comprehend, nor can most of the characters. For Nesta, a “reborn” but very much living character to have death associated with her is a strong blurring of the lines. The case of her being labelled a witch is similarly significant as it solidifies the elements of the supernatural while simultaneously comparing her to pretty much the only exclusively female-coded monster in western pop culture. I will touch more on this when I do my study of Nesta through the framework of Barbara Creed’s Monstrous Feminine.

“I am not like the others.”

--Acowar, we love a self-aware queen.

“Nesta took in his broken body, the pain in Cassian’s eyes, and angled her head.

The movement was not human.

Not fae.

Purely animal.

Purely predator.”

--Acowar

There are a lot more details and quotes that support this interpretation, but I didn’t write them all down in my archived notes. This post is obscenely long, however, so even though there is more to be said, I’ll leave it for another day. If you made it this far you really are an MVP and probably love Nesta to a concerning degree like me. Please rest your eyes if you’re actually reading this 😂

I’d love to read about any other takes and thoughts that might have come to your minds after reading this monstrosity,

G

RP Meme from "Chapter Four: Flowers and Seeds" in the Children of Gaia Tribebook from "Werewolf: The Apocalypse"

Some offer quarter to enemies that seem repentant, willing to take the risk of betrayal in the hopes of redeeming a soul that all others would consider lost.

It’s not an easy task.

Hey, stupid, that light is green!

At least your mother tried to keep you

You’re contrary, but not as a joke; you legitimately believe that playing devil’s advocate is a good and necessary part of any important decision.

When you creatively misinterpret things that you see or that people say and do, allow them to misinterpret you and your ideas; fair is fair.

Act contrary about half the time, and refuse to be predictable; always keep them thinking about what you’re saying.

Anyone can laugh at you, but they should feel a little bit uneasy at the same time.

No one save yourself really knows when you’re mad (or do you?)

Let’s party!

The peace and love stuff was pretty good, but what you really liked was the permissive attitude toward lovemaking and altered states of consciousness.

Your teenage years were quite a ride.

To this date, you’ve been able to keep yourself from thinking about your dead tormentor’s face.

You’re a high school stoner turned apprentice ritemaster, expert in the ritual use of teacher plants, drugs and alcohol.

You like having a good time; drink, weed, sex and dancing. Some spirits like to possess you in return for giving you knowledge or using their powers while they are embodied in you.

This life is a trip, but you are beginning to see some problems.

You aren’t really certain what to do about this, and you’re becoming more and more nervous about the situation.

You need to get control soon, but you don’t know if you’ll have the strength to do it.

Fate is not always fair, but she’s real.

Now, pick a number, high or low.

You were an avid game-player even as a kid, loving any chance to beat someone else, any way to win.

You couldn’t explain the strange itch within you, but friendly competition seemed to salve it somewhat.

How often you lost and how much wasn’t important.

One day, gang members came looking for their money, and you discovered that you were a lot tougher in a fight than you had thought.

You’re a recovering gambling addict who’s trying to learn the purer ideas behind games of chance and skill.

Your fascination with all the arts of the game makes you a model arbitrator for challenges of that sort, although you like staredown and combat challenges much less.

Games of chance are your specialty, although you’re learning that games of pure mental acumen such as chess and go are a much better test of wits; but card games, matching luck with cleverness and people skills, are your favorite.

Research the odds before a confrontation; you don’t want to lose.

Act cool and secretive, hiding any advantage that you may have.

You were one of the lucky ones.

You enjoy teaching like nothing else.

Telling stories about the natural world, about wolf packs or other animals, watching your audience learn before your eyes — it’s exhilarating.

Luckily your work allows you to travel, besides providing income.

If you have a fault, it’s that your idyllic upbringing has somewhat sheltered you from the pain and blood of your people’s war — but who knows what the future will bring?

You wouldn’t have made it if a kindly person hadn’t taken you in as a pet.

Their desire to take you alive hampered them, and you killed two, much to their fury.

You want to become a better warrior but recognize that dancing is a valuable outlet for you.

Your undocumented status as an “immigrant” may cause problems at some point, as you have no identification at all.

Speak little, do rather than say, and be at your most eloquent as a dancer.

Savor combat as a chance to express your warrior’s soul through the medium of merciful discipline.

The pursuit of peace is neither easy nor safe.

It was, among other things, a poor time to be a woman. Women mostly kept to their assigned place as wives and mothers, aiding husbands in daily work but getting little or no thanks or praise in return.

The land belonged to those who could use it best.

Who needs me more than they? And they may listen.

Trees walking, rivers running uphill and fatal wounds healed were only the start.

They said we couldn’t do this.

Cops! Look out!

The crowd was breaking up, screams of fright as the cops showed up with shields and clubs to impose “order.”

Secure the area. Secure the area.

Rage, and they’ll all die.

Fuckin’ anarchists!

One cop or two?

Blood but no marks, no scars.

I won’t hurt you, dude.

They don’t know if this will work. . they asked me if I even wanted to try.

What about the guy who eats the shit?

That’s where I belong.

They need me, I know that.

Just as you must have dark in order for there to be light, peace must exist for there to be violence.

A chronicle that intends to focus on peace should also be something of an ongoing debate with many questions asked.

To begin with, what is Peace? Not just the literal definition, but what is the ideal, really?

Is there some deeper spiritual requirement for true peace to be achieved?

One person’s peace may be another’s prison.

Exactly who has the right to enforce peace?

Is even enforcing peace an oxymoron?

Medieval feudal lords maintained their personal “peace,” (the origin of the charge of “disturbing the peace,” a legal concept still in use) but their right to do so was backed by the not so peaceful concept of “might is right.”

By what means or what right do they keep the peace?

Is it even possible to create a lasting peace among humans?

Of course, even assuming that anyone thinks they know what peace is, exactly how are they meant to achieve it?

The real question here is whether peace should be a means

or an end.

Is a peace bought with war tarnished by the blood spilt to purchase it?

Or is peace so important that its long-term attainment

should be sought at any cost?

They refuse all violence.

A few others believe in the “break an egg to make an omelet” philosophy.

Most view peace as an eternal struggle that lies somewhere in the middle

Why bother?

Of course, peace is a never-ending struggle, but people can dream, can’t they?

Issues I’ve worked on include women’s reproductive rights, gay civil rights, recycling, organic gardening and farming, and police brutality.

There are many other worthwhile causes, and I’d urge you to consider working for or donating to them.

Pluto’s Pull

Where Pluto lands in your natal chart is where your most unconscious security needs determine your decisions and actions. It represents the evolutionary soul past you come from. At your first Saturn return, Plutonian issues make themselves known by recreating themes from your earlier environment. Saturn’s return compels us to visit our earlier years so we can attempt to solve Pluto’s evolutionary puzzle in our lives. This is generally when the evolutionary intent of the soul collides with patterns from the past and we are challenged to break free or remain stuck in Pluto’s grip.

Transits to Pluto (or from Pluto) cause change by:

Emotional shock through loss or cataclysmic events (e.g., eviction, death, termination)

A perceived need for relationships to people, places, and subjects (e.g., sudden interest in spirituality, a specific country, an affair or fascination with a new friend)

Steady growth where a gradual release of old patterns and behaviors gives way to new opportunities and situations

Actualizing internal desires to become something beyond ourselves (e.g, the impetus to write a book, become a parent, or run for office).

Pluto transits are far more kind to those who have surfaced subconscious behaviors and are actively trying to integrate Pluto themes. Look to the opposite house and sign where Pluto lies in your chart to determine how to reconcile unconscious Pluto conditioning. 

Pluto in the natal chart

1st House: You are in every sense of the word a Plutonian person. You seek the truth and will face it, no matter how dark it appears. Over the years you have learned to hold back your true self to keep the peace; however in repressing your true intensity and leadership desires, a compulsion to manipulate and control others can manifest.

To evolve, look to your 7th house of relationships, partnerships, and diplomacy. Learn to connect to the rawness of others to become the kind of leader you are destined to be. 

2nd House: Security feels like life or death and an extreme desire to hold on to things, jobs, people, or situations that you have outgrown are ongoing themes. With Pluto in the 2nd you compulsively seek a kind of security that is insatiable, where the comforts of the material world are always tainted with a kind of inescapable scarcity. 

To evolve, let go of everything material, and embrace your inner strength. Open yourself to the soul-level vulnerability of the 8th house. You will find true security in your ability to walk away from the job you’re over-qualified for, your overflowing closet, and the friends who you’ve outgrown and embrace the unknown.

3rd House: Your perceptions tilt towards the taboo, the unseen. You refuse to play along with social niceties bereft of truth just to keep the peace. Rather, you are emotionally compelled to call out hypocrisy and conspiracy when you see it, but your intensity begins to take a toll. Your bleak lens upon humanity begins to turn you bitter and you miss out on the joie de vivre that is life.

To evolve, put your inner life into words. Open yourself up through healing conversation. Risk being known and accept that not everyone can see what you see. Once you reclaim your voice, you will lose the need for confrontation.

4th House: You are learning to derive security from within, a process that most likely started with your family when you realized they could not provide you with the emotional support you needed. Much of your emotional patterning is built upon prior life experience which you will initially attempt to resolve through others by alternating between domination and manipulation. When these actions fail to produce the security you seek, the 4th house Pluto native will learn to become more dependent upon themselves to meet their emotional needs. 

To evolve, take responsibility for your actions and reactions. By walking your life path with intention, you are able to gain ownership over your feeling nature, lessening your dependence on others. By fully feeling and questioning all of your emotions, you will learn how to control your emotional triggers and achieve the security you seek. 

5th House: You are here to creatively self-actualize yourself through projects, endeavors, and an elevated position in society. Your need for acknowledgement and validation feels endless and can become a source of neurosis if not met to the degree which you feel is congruent with your destiny. You often mistakenly believe to know the wants and needs of others, and are hurt when your generous efforts are gone unacknowledged.

To evolve, look for ways that your need to be exceptional and in the spotlight can translate into progress for the greater good. In learning to that you are a channel for creativity and not the sole source of it, the accolades you see seek will follow.

6th House: You are here to learn service to society, culture, and individuals. Along the way you are here to learn about humility and self-improvement through intense self-analysis. Your extraordinary insight is turned inward, and you are learning to see yourself clearly as part of a larger whole. Through this awareness, criticism is challenging for you to receive as you are constantly seeking to atone for your shortcomings. In not achieving the perfection you seek, you risk projecting your failures onto others or turning them inward resulting in procrastination and anxiety. Crisis brings these issues to light.

To evolve, you must seek connection to the divine. Once you feel that you are part of something larger than yourself, your work will become aligned with meaning. You learn to more clearly see relationships, to forgive yourself and others, and know true humility. Your life flows with the divine.

7th House: Through others, you are learning your own value and individuality within social contexts. Fundamentally Pluto in the 7th house is about equality in relationships --  and often through many of them. You instinctively listen and fulfill the needs of your partner and find comfort in meeting their needs. You risk losing yourself in relationship by giving so much that you leave little for yourself. Partnerships tend to be unequal or overly dependent leaving little room to grow. In extreme cases Pluto forces separation.

To evolve, learn when to give and when to not. Direct your own life decisions and create relationships that work for you. Learn how to fulfill your needs on your own, and do not give out of guilt or fear. 

8th House: You feel compelled to transcend the limits of yourself through money, sex, or the occult. Your subconscious death wish comes from a desire for transformative power, and you are constantly a catalyst through sex or psychological intimacy. Unchecked, you risk becoming overly manipulative and possessive in your vulnerability. Separation triggers rage against the little deaths you secretly set in motion. 

To evolve, look towards the stability of the 2nd house to fulfill your inner needs. In learning to transform yourself through personal growth and fulfillment, you meet others who will want to transform with you, rather than through you. Honor your power by surfacing what’s unsaid, taboo, the hidden -- the extremities of life. You are here to uncover the unseen forces of truth.

9th House: You seek out the reasons behind our connection to the larger forces sensed in the 8th house and seek to explain them, but often lack the words. You feel alienated from your own culture, rootless, and instead consider yourself a citizen of the world in search for deeper meaning. Your intuition is strong and spiritual -- a placement you share with leaders like Nostradamus, Jesus, and Kahlil Gibran, but you have difficulty trusting in it as sometimes you confuse it with your inner desire. In your search for grounding, you may hold fast to beliefs or philosophies that you feel necessary to convert others to in search of your own emotional security. Misunderstood by many, you tend to seek out only those who share your vision.

To evolve, learn how to communicate your vision into words others can understand. Share your message. Remain open to the views, philosophies and opinions of others and learn that there are many paths to wisdom. In doing so, you will find your place in the cosmic order.

10th House: Like all cardinal houses, Pluto in the 10th represents the start of a new cycle. You determine your individuality through your status in society. You have mastered the hierarchical structures in place and continue to climb the ladder until you reach the top. In your ambition, you may have manipulated and played unfairly in your quest for success, rejecting your internal morals and values in exchange for status. You risk over-identifying with your career, or worse, becoming despotic in your desire for power and control. 

To evolve, find an outlet other than career and status to identify with. Once you are able to accept that even if everything is taken from you, you will still be okay, your block towards a rewarding life and career you love will fall away.

11th House: You long to be free of the confines of society who arbitrarily dictates who and what you should be. Internally, you have a deep sense of being completely different from the people around you. Your destiny is to be innovative, rebellious, even revolutionary. In finding your way, you risk migrating so far out on the fringes of society that you drop out all together. In extreme cases, 11th house Pluto natives may attempt to vindictively destroy existing systems becoming anti-social outlaws. Others may reject individuality altogether and instead cling to the status quo, further reinforcing a feeling of disconnection. 

To evolve, sever attachments that prevent personal growth and objectivity through the blows of life. The fixed nature of the 11th house struggles with change which conflicts with your misfit identity than desires acceptance. Rather than resist and resent mainstream society, your task is to identify that which makes you unique and seek out kinship in this process. You are meant to leave the past behind and innovate a new way of doing things.

12th House: You have the unique ability to spiritualize all aspects of your life. In the 12th Piscean house, you sense that the source of life is continually in development and your connection to that sources is boundless. In your quest to understand this part of yourself, you feel as if you are standing on the edge of the known world where you fear you could easily slide into unknown depths, unable to return. Often you find yourself paralyzed with fear, afraid to move in either direction. In a desperate search for control, you may over-identify with a specific egocentric aspect of yourself as a way to avoid Pluto’s disintegration of the self. In rejecting your soul’s evolutionary pull, you risk living in a fantasy world in a quest to find a life with meaning. 

To evolve, plunge into the abyss. You are here to learn faith, to surrender to a higher power, and to let go of the illusion of the ego. Until you completely surrender to this power, a continuing cycle of crisis will repeatedly pull you towards ego release. With every cycle, you will stumble upon more realizations that will lead you towards spiritual guidance. 

Inspired by Jeff Green and Steven Forrest.

Survey #333

“imaginary chain  /  the one you never break  /  seething all alone”

Do you have any fears you would rarely admit to anyone? Nah, I'm pretty open about what I'm afraid of. What website do you spend most of your time on? YouTube. What class in high school did you struggle with the most? I honestly don't remember with certainty, but it was probably math or economics. At least, I think econ was my senior year. What could you talk about for hours? Mark, meerkats, a few game franchises... maybe a couple more topics. Who is your favorite character from Harry Potter? I wouldn't know. Do you salt your popcorn? Yes. Do you have a Steam account? Yeah, but I don't have many games on there and rarely touch the ones I do. Do you like gaming? I do, but not as much as I did for most of my life. I mostly just play WoW now, and even that I'm not that into anymore. Part of it though comes from not buying any new games that I'm interested in because 1.) no money and 2.) no proper console, and you can only replay games so many times before you're just... yeah, done. Do you like reading books? Some days. Do you like religion? All things considered? No. Do you like Grand Theft Auto V? Y'know, growing up, I actually liked watching my younger neighbor play one of those games, but I don't remember which. Though he never actually "played" it... just ran around wreaking havoc, lol. I do however think GTAV was the one that Jason and Jacob started playing together when we moved into the apartment, and I thought the story was okay; I don't think they ever got far into it, though. Definitely wasn't Jason's sort of game, and I don't think it was too much up Jacob's alley, either. Can you twerk? I haven't tried and you will never see me try either, lmao. Do you have a Spotify account? Yes, but I almost never use it. If the last person you kissed tried to kiss you again, would you start kissing them back? Yes. If your best friend of the opposite sex tried to kiss you, would you start kissing them back? No. Have you ever kissed someone who has previously kissed someone you hated? Yes, because of how badly she hurt him. I don't have any negative feelings towards her now, though. We're actually friends, haha. The irony. Are you an easy lay? What weird wording. But whatever, quite the polar opposite actually. When’s the last time you said you were sorry? A few days ago. Are there any songs you listen to everyday? No. Would you like living on the coast? As someone who lives in a state hit by hurricanes usually every year and has seen the incredible damage they usually bring to the coast, no. I don't like the smell or gritty feel of salty air, either. When’s the last time you were really late to something? No idea. That's usually not a problem with me. Why did you stop liking the last person you liked? The last person I actually stopped like-liking would be Girt, and that would be because I just came to the realization I saw him too much as my brother instead of boyfriend. It just always felt awkward. Do you still talk to that person? Yeah, we're good. No hard feelings or anything between us. Are you keeping a secret from someone who needs to know the truth? No. Do you trust easily? Fuck no. I'll be cautious, at least to some degree, about new people for a while. What is the last song to make you cry? Since I've actually behaved and not listened to any trigger songs, it's been a long while, but it was probably "Another Life" by Motionless In White. Last person you hung up on? I'm sure some automated message. I barely ever answer the phone to numbers I don't recognize, though. Where was your last car ride to and from? To Wal-Mart w/ Mom to pick up our order and then back home. Next big outing? *shrug* Do you find it difficult to stay invested in online relationships? Not really, no. Considering I'm by far my most authentic self online, I actually tend to appreciate virtual friends more, if I'm being honest. I try to keep up with those people. Are you the type of person who pays close attention to the release dates of movies, music, etc., and will, for example, go see a movie or buy an album on the date it is released? If so, when is the last time you did so? Not really, no. I think I saw Warcraft the day it came into theaters, though. Do movies often make you cry? What kind of films/scenes make you tear up most? Yep. Tragic romance tends to do it the most, I think. Do you use any apps to track your health or medications? I have one to track my menstrual cycle as well as another that tracks my daily caloric intake, but I'm bad at using it because it's tedious if I actually have to measure something. Whose opinions/recommendations do you value most? Ummm if you mean like, in general, probably my mom's. But this most certainly depends on the subject I'm taking feedback on. What is something society "expects" you to do that you don't want to do and/or don't plan on doing? Shaving my legs came to mind first. Granted, I will if there is almost any chance of someone seeing them, but otherwise, I just don't care. We respect women with body hair on this account and see them as no less feminine. Are you interested in architecture? Is there any particular style that you're drawn to? I think it's cool, yeah. I should have an answer for this, given architecture was a massive focus in Art History the last time I was in school... Roman architecture comes to my head first, if that says anything. What was one of your favorite things from the nineties? BOY OH BOY, SO MUCH!! I'm probably gonna say the toys. There was some dope shit, man. Do you collect things pertaining to an animal? ANYTHING and EVERYTHING featuring a meerkat!!!!! :''') Do you wish that people were kinder to spiders? Well, yes. I hope everyone in their heart wishes this, even if they're afraid of them. They're very important to our ecosystem, and none are out there to harm us; their existence does us a favor. Where do you normally order pizza from? Domino's (my favorite) or LIttle Caesar's for the price. Did your parents keep anything of yours from when you were a baby? Oh yes, loads of stuff that's stored away somewhere. Do you own one of those "____ For Dummies" books? No, but I feel like we had one at some point? What was the last VHS tape that you watched? Yikes, who knows. Did you watch Boy Meets World back in the day? I actually didn't, no. Our old neighbor though loved it so much that she named her daughter Tapanga (deliberately spelled that way). Who is your favorite Scooby Doo character? I never really had one. Maybe Thelma. If I were to give you a coloring book, what would you want its theme to be? Animals. Have you ever won a stuffed animal at a carnival? Possibly a small one. I can tell you I did however accidentally stab the guy who ran the dart-throwing booth though, lmfao. He was obviously fine, and it wasn't a bad wound. I felt SOOOOOO bad. Are you a fan of narwhals? I'm a fan of any animal. Narwhals are definitely fascinating creatures. Grape or orange soda? Orange. Grape-flavored soda ain't my thing. Have you ever wanted to vlog? Noooo. My life is so painstakingly boring and repetitive. Did you have a favorite Disney movie as a child? It was and still is The Lion King. Do you or have you ever owned a portable gaming console? Yeah, a GameBoy Advance and Nintendo DS. Is shyness cute? It definitely can be. Have you ever had alcohol poisoning before? No. Do you like to gossip, or do you prefer to keep your mouth shut? I'm not a gossip fan. Have you ever vandalized someone else’s property before? Most definitely not. Are your parents divorced? Yes. Have you ever been under suicide watch for 72 hours in a psychiatric ward? Yes; at least here, that's protocol when you're admitted for suicidal thoughts/tendencies. Have you ever gone through your significant other’s phone or social media accounts, or do you respect their privacy? Absolutely not. That shit pisses me off so badly. Do you wear any sort of clothing for religious reasons? No. What's something you worked extremely hard to get? My sanity back. Sounds so dramatic, but I'm literally not kidding. Have you ever been labeled negatively or otherwise been called something extremely derogatory? Not that I remember. How many kids do you want to have? I don't want kids, but to entertain the question, when I did, I wanted three. It's fuckin wild to imagine for even a second that I once wanted that. Do you believe that being gay is a sin? *eye roll* Are you any good at photography? If so, what’s your specialty? I mean it with modesty, but I think I'm pretty good. My favorite thing to photograph are animals, but I generally take most pictures of people by request or pay. Judging by my deviantART account, my nature pics definitely get the most attention. Have you ever been a member of a gang before? Fuckin yikes, no. An infamous gang tried breaking into my childhood home once, so you can probably gather that I would never take part in their "big bad guys" bullshit. Have you ever felt like you were neither male nor female? No, I'm comfortable as a cisgender female. Do you like oatmeal raisin cookies? NO. Anything with raisins = NO. Do you think you’re attractive? No. Has a teacher ever caught and read a note you were passing in class? No, not that I really passed notes to begin with. I'd be mortified, regardless of what it was about. Would you rather live in a tropical or arctic climate? Arctic. Do you have an older brother? Yes. He's technically my half-brother, but I don't see "half"s. Have either of your parents ever been to jail? No. Are your collarbones prominent? Bitch I wish so I could get the damn dermal piercings I've wanted for years. Have you ever in your life worn overalls? As a kid, yeah. So ugly. Do you love yourself? It's... weird. Therapy is making me realize that a part of me, maybe even the bigger one, doesn't, but at the exact same time, I know I have worth just like every other human. I just don't treat myself like I do. What TV shows do you keep up with? None, until Meerkat Manor returns this summer. :') When’s the last time it snowed where you live? A couple months ago we got a little bit of it. Is your belly button pierced? No, but it would be if I was actually skinny. Just in my personal opinion, I don't at all think that that piercing would look nice on someone as overweight as me. Even if my damn dreams come true and I lose all the weight I want, my stomach will never look "normal," even after I get the excess skin removal surgery that will be very high on my priority list for my own self-image that's been nothing but loathsome since 2016. What is your favourite dinosaur? Spinosaurus is the obvious answer. What do you remember the most about your childhood? Lots of imagination. Parents arguing. Playing with my little sister. What age did you get your first hair cut? I have no idea. Do you have a favourite toy from childhood still? No. I wish I hadn't gotten rid of it. Have you ever made bread? No. Would you ever consider shaving your head? Nah. Would you like to live in a realm where the zombie apocalypse is possible? Who says we don't now? Zombifying parasites already exist among insects and such, so like... it's not unimaginable to one day see one developed enough to infect humans. I sure as fuck hope not, but. What do you use to dry your clothes? (Tumble dryer, radiator, etc) We have a dryer. Do you ever play the built-in games on your computer? Which ones? Nah. What was the last spontaneous thing you did? I did this many, many months ago, but I guess watch an episode of The Witcher by my own volition. I don't really do spontaneous things with how routine I am, but I had a random urge to check it out one morning. How loud can you whistle? Not very loud at all. Does anything on your body hurt or itch right now? My knees really hurt. They're getting worse. When was the last time you built a sandcastle? There's noooo telling, it's been many years. Have you ever ridden a mechanical bull? No. Well, not a *real* one, anyway. Just the little ones for kids. If you had to appear on a game show, which one would you choose? Family Feud. What is your favorite hot beverage? Hot chocolate. Do you have an alter ego? Describe them: No. Food: Are you adventurous or do you stick to what you know? I absolutely stick to what I know. I am SO picky. Is there anything (out of the obvious) that makes you feel really ill? I'm not immediately sure, but there's probably something. Do you bump into things often? Yes. I've always had this weird habit of like... drifting when I walk, so I do this easily. I just kinda wander to the sides a bit without realizing it. What design is on your calendar this year? I don't have a current one. Did you enjoy playing Hop Scotch when you were younger? I did. Do you feel uncomfortable going to the movies by yourself? Nah, not really. I did that with Warcraft and it was actually pretty chill. When thinking about your dream home, what do you think would be your favorite thing to shop for? The ~g o t h i c~ decor. Do you ever listen to those lo-fi hip hop/study music playlists on YouTube/Spotify? No. Are you likelier to work harder if you’re being paid? If not, what drives you to give your best effort? I mean, yeah. I'd assume that's pretty normal. Does the fashion sense of a potential partner matter to you? No. Is there anything that you prefer to write down rather than type? I'm unsure. If you download/torrent things, do you remember the first thing you ever torrented? Oh, the Limewire days of music pirating... but no, I don't remember. What was the last thing you posted on Instagram? Something photography-related, but I don't feel like checking. What do you wish your hair looked like? I wish I could pull off pastel pink hair rn. It also desperately needs a trim. Do you still feel anything for the first person you fell in love with? I'm sure I always will, at least a little. Do you get any magazines in the mail? No. Have you ever paid for any kind of online membership? Uhhhhh have I? I don't think so. Who’d you last see in a tux? Probably the groom of the last wedding I shot. Do you record any TV shows and watch them later? No, but I used to do that big time because I loved "rewatching" stuff when I was on the computer. Out of everyone you know, who was the most heart? My mother, big time. Who’s the bravest person you know? Also my mother. Or Sara. What profession do you admire the most? Teachers might just win. The patience that must take, among so many other things. Have you ever made a fake profile, for any reason? No.

Helen of Eden

 Tamas M. Varhegyi

(c) 2015-2020

             A weary passenger, tired after completing a critical assignment which seemed like  was going on for millennia, walked toward his first class seat on a transatlantic flight. He reflected on the unfairness of the throw of the dice which might randomly pair him with an annoying companion of unknown gender, age, interests, temperament and of course looks :   “An oversized, restless, talkative busybody of either sex would make this a long flight with little opportunity for rest or reflection.”  

           As he approached his seat, he stole a glance of the passenger already occupying the window seat adjacent to his.  First impressions are everything.  “Gender, female...it is his lucky day” - he thought somewhat relieved. “Correction”, he added silently, - “a very obvious female.” A lingering but respectful second look rendered the final visual verdict : “A gloriously feminine creature with a body second to none and with a stunning face to match.”  

           His knees buckled ever so slightly, his heart pounded as he happily uttered a confident greeting while silently prayed :  “Let her response be worthy of the vision before me.”              She delivered on his secret wish without fail.  A voice - more like a short symphony - floated toward him, intended not only for his ears but all his senses.  It enveloped him and penetrated his soul.  He briefly wondered about the ancient tale of the sirens tempting sailors to rush toward danger.  Somewhat sheepishly he conceded, that her lovely voice would have drawn him anywhere she commanded him to go.  

           While he reached up to stow his carry-on luggage, she ventured a quick glance of her own as well.  She liked what she saw; he was neither overweight, nor muscle-bound.  His face revealed a happy mixture of calm, intelligence and serenity.  Within seconds her estimate became a focused conviction and she revised it silently : ”A vastly improbable gift of nature : unshakeable confidence, superior intelligence and irresistible masculinity in perfect harmony.”              A colorful shirt and light slacks only partially covered his exquisite body on which it seemed like any outfit would find a home.  She allowed a quick, silent one-liner altogether inappropriate but accurate : “Come to think of it even myself would be a good fit on him.”              She blushed, while scolding herself for going off the rail so quickly and promised to control her impulses from that moment forward.  That, as she was soon to find out, would prove to be an impossible task.  

           He settled down and struck up a conversation as if he had known her for a long time.   The quiet, unassuming confidence unnerved her.  Most men, after sizing her up, knew only too well that they were hopelessly outclassed and quickly retreated, unable to think or speak coherently in her presence. Not this stranger...with a hint of panic she wondered what his secret was.

           For a while they exchanged pleasantries until he reckoned that he could risk a more intimate line of conversation. Pulling out a thin black book from its folder, he offered his travelling companion to share its secrets. She - quite intelligent and unattached - was briefly taken aback and considered brushing him aside.  But the flight has barely started and she did not relish to be sitting stone-faced next to this improbably handsome and strangely confident,   although somewhat eccentric man... a puzzling contradiction she feared might keep her occupied for the rest of the flight.

             She agreed to pay attention, to which he responded with the most grateful and satisfied smile she has ever seen on a human face.  As he was bouncing his grin off of her she counted her blessing that she was sitting down, otherwise - as she was certain - her legs would have not supported her for long.  An intoxicating cavalcade of almost invisible twitches, tingles and flashes marched through her body.  

           Her throat parched, she reached for her glass, hoping that its contents would steady her nerves as well.  As she sipped her drink she glanced at him and realized instantly that steadying her nerves were not in the cards as long as he was sitting inches from her.  He slowly unfolded the object of his boasting, but his face was no longer tentative as if it belonged to a hesitating and somewhat clumsy office worker.  He was bent on conquest, trying to impress the most attractive, perfectly shaped and groomed woman he has ever seen on this planet.              She finally glanced at the open book, dreading the moment when she expected he would try to entertain her with pitiful tales of past conquests of woman most likely inferior to her.  

           She sighed with relief. The book contained no list of names, addresses or phone numbers nor did it betray evidence of some infantile date-rating shorthand system.  The pages she saw was made of no ordinary paper but belonged to some kind of electronic book simulating a window into a high quality three dimensional virtual reality world.  

           As he spoke, his words brought the book alive.  Images of creatures, advanced to the foreground, paused then faded away.  She noticed that his voice flawlessly controlled the device.   She was no stranger to advanced technologies so she took this bit of magic in stride, only to realize to her surprise that his voice also directed another, far more complex machinery, her own mind, her body and her rather unsteady emotions.  Spellbound, she let him go on, wishing that his fascinating demonstration would never end.

           Then, without warning, he asked the strangest and wholly unexpected question, wanting to know whether she was taught evolution in the schools - and if yes - did she believe in it.  He immediately regretted his folly and wished that he could have run after the words and catch them before they reached her. He silently berated himself : “Who in his right mind would lead off a casual conversation with a lame question like that?” But he needed not to worry.

           As she replied in the affirmative for the first part but with a firm denial to the second, he slowly realized, with an odd mixture of surprise and pride, that for some strange reason, in her presence he can be himself without reservations. He continued :              “I attended a different institution which subjected me to extensive training conducted by first rate Intelligent Design advocates.  “Homeschooling on steroids we used to joke.”

           She nodded silently to indicate that she was aware of the term and its pariah status in the educational and scientific community.  Then she ventured a comment :

“ You look like a very intelligent, rational, and independent person.  Does your line of work demand that you believe or at least pretend to believe in evolution?  If yes, did you ever consider switching to a top notch scientific research team on the forefront of the unfolding Intelligent Design revolution?”  

           His jaw dropped for a moment. Soon a glorious mental confusion induced by the mixture of rising euphoria and a tinge of fear set in.  This was no ordinary pretty face sitting next to him. He resolved to be even more careful in every way possible. His words barely hid his apprehension.  “Pray tell me just where did that very insightful suggestion come from?” Receiving only a gentle shrug of her shoulders and an enigmatic smile, he capitulated.              Letting his guard down he confessed:  “As I am growing fond of you with every second ticking by, I will level with you. I did join just such a research team a very long time ago. “

             His expression changed, with an impossible mix of pride and happiness evident as he continued :            “After looking at those pictures I shared with you, perhaps you are convinced that I am not a collector of meaningless one-night stands - and you are right.  In this black book I hold in my hands, are the detailed descriptions of the countless exquisite creatures this planet shelters and nurtures.  

           You see, I am a galactic DNA design engineer and librarian, writing and safeguarding software whose function is to describe  the design and fabrication details of living creatures down to the last cell, including every protein and molecular machine within each cell.  Once verified and approved, we hand the blueprints to our cloning teams, who soon bring the creatures to life - which up until then existed only on paper or in computer storage.  They perform extensive testing and let us know whether we did or did not design them right.  Usually, after some minor changes, the species obtain final approval and are released into their target ecosystems. Just like on Noah’s Ark, two specimen, one male, one female.

Yes, I am one of those intelligent designers the Darwinists rejected as either impossible - or worse - as those who would produce creatures inferior even to random, blind and unguided natural selection. I, and my team were responsible for populating the Northern Hemisphere of this planet.  We have been working on it for the past eleven thousand years.”            With a self-satisfied grin he teased her : “So what do you say, did we do a good job so far?” He expected utter surprise, disbelief and perhaps indignation accusing him of spinning such a tall tale.  None of that came, which slowly sent chills down his spine.              His brain was working overtime. “Something is way out of kilter here, could it be a possible security breach? I better find out what is going on and do it soon.” - went the silent conversation with himself.            He did not have to wait too long to solve the riddle.  Her response started  not with words but with a gesture.  As she slowly put her perfectly designed hands on his arm, their minds touched for an instant in complete agreement.  They realized that life for them would never be the same and that for some divine reason they will lead a charmed  existence far into the future, rolling past endless horizons.             She leaned closer, nearly burying his face in the canopy of her lush hair.  Her lips touched his ear as she whispered these impossible words :  “I congratulate you and your team ... and now let me show you my Pink Book !  We used it to populate the southern half.”

 Epilogue

            Above, invisible, a very ancient being observed them, fighting back tears for things buried in the misty past, for a hopelessly long chain of regrets; projects never finished, romances missed that could have been.  Finally, it pulled itself together and whispered silently :

           “Usually I do not approve of on-the-job romances, but these two were my hardest working and most successful designers, so I make an exception.  Between them, almost single-handedly, they created a world teeming with life so rich, so unpredictable and so spectacular that it gave me a new lease on life and the strength to go on every time I witness the miracles they brought forth. They deserve to enter into the most fitting union my creation has ever seen.   I give my blessing.  

           But it is in my nature – maybe even my destiny - to meddle a bit, and I can’t resist now either.  These two are mighty proud of their respective designs.  They almost regard them as their own offspring and rightly so. Well, I feel the same way about them. Over the eons I learned a thing or two about unusual, exquisite creations.              And now I have altered their reproductive machinery to give forth the best I could have ever designed.  I can’t wait to see the wonder on their faces when they greet their first joint project.

           This happy occasion calls for a matching gift.  I have a world prepared for them. Adam and Eve welcome to my true Paradise, without serpents and without challenges to trip you up.  Design away my children! I know you will make the best of it.” Tamas Varhegyi © 2011-2020  Monroe, North Carolina, United States

 Author’s comments :

             Those of you who live in a real world with its many challenges and struggles - which frequently end in disappointments, disasters or annihilation - will perhaps find this story unbearably optimistic, uneventful and over-the-top romantic.              You are right, the shoe fits and for me it is a perfect fit.  I wanted to write a galactic fairy tale, uncomplicated, kind and somewhat steamy at least in the minds of the two main characters. The surprising ending for sure went over the top you might say.              Indeed it did.  I simply could not find a single plausible scenario which would be a fitting reward for two top-notch, planet-forming design-engineers who fell for each other the moment they met. That is where the designer God helped me out.              A new start bequeathed to two supremely deserving humans was a way to put away all the horrific trials and tribulation of our race bleeding from thousands upon thousands of wounds which might never heal.            The ending is a new start… a second chance for the Garden of Eden, this time a true one, gifted to two aliens who deserved it better than anyone else.