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piglet26 · 3 months

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Top Five Reylo Scenes

Before I start I do want to add why Reylo means so much to me. Recently I went through a really deep depression and part of what pulled me out of it was Reylo. I was able to write essays and do analysis about this OTP. Rewatching the films and focusing on theirs scenes helped get my mind off of some pretty deep stuff. I was also able to receive love and connection through the Reylo community. It's meant a lot to me! Also, I know that Tumblr is very supportive to anyone going through a tough time and directing people to self help lines. If you are going through a time that is really dark or challenging I Love You in Reylo.

Now my top three scenes is tough cause I love them all, but if I had to focus on an order to the game I'd say........

5 " You Need a Teacher"

“There’s a history in Star Wars of the attraction between the light and dark…”

Truth be told I'm surprised this scenes ranked as high as it did with me because I do not like that she beat him. The more I thought about it I realized why I did want to rank it. There is something raw and dirty about them here. The look of sheer amazement he gives her after that lightsaber flew to her was everything. The force theme beginning to play. Then when she lit the lightsaber and he was like "oh, you wanna duel? ok, let's duel then." The moment they found the force together with their faces beautifully lit up. It really is great.

There is nothing violent really about their fight, like I don't fear for their lives. Resembling the scene where Kylo Ren said could “take whatever he wants” and “Don’t be afraid, I feel it too” while looking at her lips. The chemistry took me by complete surprise and I shifted in my seat uncertainly watching this the first time. Surely I shouldn’t like a murderer and a villain with Rey, but I couldn’t help it. This very chemistry, though probably amounting to less than ten minutes of actual interaction between each other, leaves the audience with a hungry desire for more.

Reylo and Anidala could be mirrors of each other with Anakin falling to the Dark Side because of his selfish love for Padme and Kylo coming back to the Light because of his selfless love for Rey.

When Kylo is with Rey, he is calmer, and calculating. For Kylo, the seduction is to the Light. However, when Rey first searches out the Force with her feelings, she immediately ends up in the Dark Side, and is unafraid to take what she wants from it. In battle, she is furious, screaming and bent on destruction. As I mentioned above, Anidala and Reylo could be the Force’s attempts at balancing itself. Where Anidala was destined to fail, Reylo is destined to prevail and finally balance the Force.

4 "You'll turn........I'll help you"

“The Abduction,” the song in TFA when the “bridal carry” happens, has a very similar ascending line of notes to a recurring theme in Tchaikovsky’s Romeo and Juliet overture.

I love everything about this. The infamous elevator scene. Reylo once again dominates the screen in The Last Jedi, easily rendering Finn’s growing romance with Rose bland and tedious in comparison. Rian Johnson is a Reylo stan so I stan him. This is the first time Rey and Kylo are physically side by side since she tried to kill him in the forest on Star killer Base. It's the most sexually charged body language! They spiffed up for one another. She’s changed her clothes, put on makeup and decided to leave her hair down. His hair is freshly washed with a spritz.

“Ben” She’s using his real name now and like in every scene with her now he's calm. He hates his name, but when she says it he hears her. She's appealing to his true nature, or, what she believes it to be. It's possessive as well. He is HER Ben. The way he tried not to have a reaction to her until she said his name. He's trying to stay blank and not give away what he intends to do, but none the less has a reaction to her.

Rian Johnson basically confirmed that Kylo / Ben wanted to kiss Rey in the elevator scene. It’s canon so I am prepared to fight. Not to mention, Johnson tells us that Adam Driver, as Kylo / Ben, seriously considered kissing Rey in this scene. He is, indeed, staring at her lips in the elevator with the most intense eye contact.

Reylo speaks to me, and many others, on a spiritual level. Like many stories of both maiden and monster, Reylo shows us what it means to be a heroine. A heroine reaches her hand out to monsters and says: you deserve love and compassion, no matter the mistakes you’ve made. We're in a movement where women are tired of "fixing" men and I'm here for it. I honestly think that's why so many woman found it difficult that Reylo is not soft and sweet.

3 ........Ben?"

Adam Driver says Kylo Ren can’t help but harbor admiration for Daisy Ridley’s Rey in the Last Jedi. “I think there’s something familiar there, as well as something to be feared, or something… that he (Kylo) can’t quite place.”

Let me go ahead and say that I'm going to cheat.... I'm including the novelization in this because that mixed with novel is what gives me life. TROS brought such mixed Reylo emotions. We got great stuff! In small doses *eye roll* In the novel. She was glad to see him. Glad to be with him in this moment. It was the greatest gift she could have given him. His heart was full as Rey reached for his face, let her fingers linger against his cheek. And then, wonder of wonders, she leaned forward and kissed him.

The way Rey sits in wonder...... never mind she was borderline dead..... Ben is there, really there and she's just staring in wonder. Ben is looking at her in painful awe and relief. They are both almost child-like in their affection. The way Rey hesitates, after years alone, it takes her a moment to work up the courage for her first kiss. Ben just lets her take her time. The way he waits patiently for her to work up the courage and then the moment the kiss, he pulls her to him like she is the air he breathes for his first kiss. Oh! The smiles. Seriously?! Ben and Rey are happy! There was fireworks, champagne and pussy power! Rey’s hand. Ben gave his very life essence to Rey because his love is that absolute.

And let’s not forget the novelization of TLJ had this quote “They will never have to be alone again”.

Now this is where things get messy as hell. Adam was on the set of Tatooine..... but as they cut that ending. Daisy stated regarding the ending “the crew was shaken in a way I had not seen before. and I thought, ‘my god if this is people’s immediate reaction when the scene isn’t even ready, imagine what it will be like to see it in the movies, with the John Williams soundtrack and all that." When Ben faded into the force...... no one felt anything for a moment then there was just confusion and disappointment. You cannot nor will you ever have me believing that this janky ending was the real deal.

2 "Join Me.......... Please"

“He (Kylo) sensed his and Rey’s destinies were intertwined, but how?......"

The Throne Room Proposal! Kylo premeditated in the purest Sith way regarding the murdering of his Master for his bae. Then he gives Rey a furious speech on killing the past in a bid to win her over and fulfill his dark Queen fantasy. “You come from nothing, you’re nothing—but not to me,” Kylo tells Rey, in one of the most beautifully twisted declarations of love ever uttered in a family blockbuster, before quietly pleading with her to join him like he’s the most desperately lonely person in the universe. The duo’s visions of their future together—Rey sees Kylo turning to the Light, and Kylo witnesses Rey joining him in the Dark. However, upon Snoke’s death, the bond still stands. Kylo offers Rey a place at his side and his hand in marriage, but it is the proposal of an awkward boy, grasping desperately at a relationship he has only begun to understand.

And you can see it in her face, that she’s torn, there is a part of her that wants to take his hand, not to rule the galaxy, that’s not her ambition, but to simply stay with someone who truly understands her as well. But it’s the ‘please’ Adam Driver showed that Julliard education with that one word. Both actors just brough it. You can see how far they've come and yet still so far away from each other.

1 "You're Not Alone.......Neither are You"

“When Rey feels rejected by Luke Skywalker, who also sees parallels between the power in her and the abilities of his estranged nephew, the old Jedi master inadvertently pushes the two towards each other.”

You knew it was coming. In TLJ, Kylo is at his most sympathetic and tempting; Rey at her most understanding. Both are outcasts because of their power, they are both lonely, whispering to each other comfortingly “you’re not alone” and “neither are you.” Kylo sees more in Rey than she does within herself. He also challenges her as an equal. Ben ultimately encourages her to not only expand her mind, but in embrace her womanhood. It is no wonder that Rey goes to him. After experiencing Luke and his failings as a master and failing to find the answer's she's been looking for....... Rey ends up relating to Kylo. Kylo, for once, has put the whole of misery and life lessons into something productive.

When we find them alone in a dark hut, slowly lean towards each other, and very hesitantly touch hands in a scene fraught with romantic tension. Notably, the Force music plays during the scene, signaling their relationship’s importance. A tear crawls down Rey’s face as the two connect and understand each other on a level so deep that it is reminiscent of sex, and causes Luke Skywalker to pull the ultimate Dad move and blow up the hut.

As Rey and Kylo develop their bond we see the force attempting to balance itself. Yin and Yang....... the imagery littered throughout the sequel trilogy is drawn heavily from those belief systems. We see continuous parallel shots with Rey and Ben to represent this duality. Both are presented in contrasting surroundings that represent the duality of the masculine and the feminine. In many shots half of their figure is bathed in light and the other half is bathed in the darkness.

This connection is as spiritual as it is romantic. As Jason Fry explained, romance is merely the analog we have in the living force for this deep spiritual bond.

#reylo #star wars #rey star wars #ben solo #ben solo deserved better #rey skywalker #kylo x rey #kylo ren #ben solo x rey #my otp #otp #star wars reylo #reylo au #reylo prompt #reylo art #disney star wars

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jacksepticeye-simp · 9 months

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Do it for me? (Actor Mark x GN reader)

Requested: No

TWs: Attempted Bribery of a public offical (Failed) Implied smut? This is a little spicy so beware!

Inspired by a user on Tumblr who I've forgotten the username of, credits to them!

Description: Mark got himself into a tad bit of trouble with the authorities because of a..foolish misunderstanding. He realizes this is the perfect opportunity to make a move on you, the DA.

Mark paced around his manor anxiously, glaring down at his butler "HOW DID YOU GET ME CAUGHT WITH THE DAMN WEED?!" Benjamin flinched slightly, anxiously trying to think of something to help his employer. "Well..Don't you have a personal connection with the district attorney?" Benjamin stuttered out, gulping as Mark grabbed a glass of champagne from the tray he held. "You're right! I'm a genius! This stupid drug incident is the PERFECT chance to make my move on them! Benjamin go get my finest bottles of champange, and do decorate my room will you? I have a very special and charming attorney to..have a lovely chat with.." With those final words Mark quickly ran over to the telephone and started to dial your number.

You stood in front of the mansion doors, looking around at the outside decor. The hedges were all trimmed to resemble swans, drama masks or Marks equally as vain pet cat, how...intriguing? You couldn't find the right words to describe it in your head.

"Ah there you are, Master has been expecting you sir/madam. Just walk up the stairs and enter the largest door at the end of the hallway. He said he has important things to discuss with you." The butler stated, opening the doors and allowing you inside.

"Well he made it sound very urgent.." You replied, following the butlers instructions and entering Marks room. For some odd reason the lights were off and rose petals sat around the bed, scented candles on both nightstands..

"Mark? What the hell is this?" You asked, your gaze shifting towards Mark, laying sideways on the bed wearing nothing but his opened robe, a bucket of champagne covering his lower parts, to top it off he had a rose in his mouth.

"I needed to speak about some..important buisness with you my darling. Come closer?" He beckoned, grinning seductively.

You walked towards Mark who instantly shifted his position into an upright one, placing the bucket on the ground.

"What's the so called important business?" You demanded, staring at the man in front of you like he was a lunatic, which he might as well be..

"Y/N, I could give you anything your heart desires..I could pleasure you in ways that even you couldn't imagine..I could spoil you with treasures beyond your greatest dreams, I could give you so much money that you wouldn't even have to work another day in your life! Just drop my case and we have a deal!" Mark said, taking your hand and kissing it gently..

"Mark, I couldn't accept bribery.."

"Do it for me darling, please?" He pleaded, pulling you onto his lap and kissing your neck, making your face flush redder than the roses on the floor..

"Mark, I'm not dropping the case but I'll put in a good word for you. I trust that this is a misunderstanding." You said, clearing your throat and trying to sound professional

"Oh, well that works I guess.." He responded while smirking at your flushed state

"Good then, I assume we're done here then?" You asked as Mark thought for a moment.

"Darling..I know you're enjoying this." Mark whispered lowly into your ear, his voice smooth as velvet

"..Damn you're good.." You whispered as he soon pinned you underneath him

"Now my love, May I hear you screaming my name in pleasure?" You nodded eagerly as Mark grinned and started to strip.. This was going to be quite a long night..

#markiplier egos #iplier egos x reader #actor mark x reader #wkm actor mark #actor mark #x reader #tw spicy #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

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waheelawhisperer · 1 year

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12, 18, and 25 with rwby? And 9, 10, and 20 with Arknights

Someone finally chose a fandom

12) the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

I can't say I'm a fan of any super underrated RWBY characters, so I'll go with Robyn Hill because certain segments of this fanbase absolutely hate her and I don't see her talked about much these days.

Robyn Hill is courageous, compassionate, smarter than most people give her credit for, absurdly hot, and has great people skills and a voice I could listen to all day. She's also the proud owner of a personal Combat Twink as of the end of Volume 7, so she's got that going for her.

She's also been putting up with Ironwood's shit for way longer than any human being should have to and deserves credit for that

18) it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

Yang's intelligence. No one outside of Tumblr wants to admit she has a brain. Even the people who do acknowledge her intelligence don't want to admit that based on what we've actually seen so far on the screen (not what the narrative has tried to tell us), Yang is actually the smartest member of her team.

25) common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

Every time I see a post tagged with "anti-rwde" or any variant of "greenlight Volume 10" I have to fight the overwhelming urge to smash the block button. The first is an obnoxious circlejerk full of people who get high off their own outrage and the second is a blatant declaration that whoever's posting it doesn't care who Rooster Teeth has hurt in the past and will continue to hurt if given the chance as long as they get more of a mid-tier cartoon.

"Yang is a bad sister"

"Team RWBY was wrong to defy Cordovin's authority" (the show fucked up by failing to adequately establish the necessity of doing so, as I talked about in another post, but this is literally just a standard YA plot beat that the writers just dropped the ball on regarding execution)

"Adam got nerfed/was wasted potential/whatever" (I'm far more willing to entertain discussions of potential racism in his depiction)

"Team RWBY shouldn't've lied to Ironwood"

"Robyn Hill is dumb and angry" - she's been dealing with Ironwood's bullshit for ages now and had reason to believe that he'd specifically screwed her over

"Team RWBY constantly demand authority" - They follow authority figures until those authority figures fail, which they do with remarkable consistency. Almost like this is a story about the new generation surpassing the old and not repeating their mistakes. Whether that's actually executed well is... another story.

"Qrow was dumb for teaming up with Tyrian" - it was his best play and none of his options were actually good. The actual dumbass was Clover.

"Yang is impulsive and reckless and lost her arm at Beacon because of it" - No. She had no better choice than the one she made and it wasn't her fault she ended up in that situation.

I guess some of these are bad takes more so than complaints, but I hate them regardless

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

9) worst part of canon

Ending of Near Light, give me back my FUCKING WIFE

Every fucking Kal'tsit monologue

Every fucking Kashchey monologue

Chapters 2-3 also sucked ass

Chapter 9 continued the trend of "violently protesting against oppression is bad, m'kay?" that showed up in the depiction of Reunion and then tried to make us root for the fucking British.

Chapters 10-11 are so fucking convoluted that reading them feels like a chore instead of something I'm doing for fun.

All the Sui events take everything that annoys me about Arknights writing and turn it up to 11

Guiding Ahead wasn't terrible as a self-contained story, but it was too self-contained: it only felt like it was even taking place on Terra because Mostima was there. Nothing about it felt connected to the rest of the narrative and it killed my desire to learn more about Laterano.

10) worst part of fanon

Promiscuous/homewrecker Nearl. Alternatively, the stupid fucking memes about SilverAsh wanting the Doctor to breed his sisters.

20) part of canon you found tedious or boring

I'll just copy what I said when I answered this one earlier:

Pretty much everything at this point because absolutely no one on the writing team knows how to condense a narrative and wouldn't be concise about anything if you held a gun to your head. Like I'm sorry but you do not need to write a Lord of the Rings-length novel and then decide that's not enough and write a second novel between the lines of the first one just to tell a story about a horsegirl fighting capitalism in a DBZ tournament arc. You can just trim the fat and convey the information effectively. It won't kill you.

#ask game #rwby #arknights

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thefloatingstone · 2 years

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Anyway here's Blind Guardian's 14 minute song about the Fall of Troy as written in The Iliad roughly seen from the perspective of Cassandra the prophet.

Lyrics under the cut because the lyric video was too long for tumblr's limit. and the lyrics themselves are too long for a post on its own.

Turn your head and see the fields of flame

He carries along From a distant place, he's on his way He'll bring decay (Don't move along cause things they will go wrong The end is getting closer day by day) In shades of grey We're doomed to face the night Light's out of sight Since we've reached the point of no return We pray for starlight, we wait for the moon The sky is empty, alone in the unknown We're getting nowhere

We have been betrayed by the wind and the rain The sacred halls empty and cold The sacrifice made should not be done in vain Revenge will be taken by Rome

We live a lie Under the dying moon Pale faced laughs doom Indulges in delight It's getting out of hand The final curtain will fall

Hear my voice There is no choice There's no way out You'll find out

We don't regret it So many men have failed, but now he's gone Go out and get it The madman's head, it shall be thine We don't regret it That someone else dies hidden in disguise Go out and get it Orion's hound shines bright Don't you think it's time to stop the chase Around the ring Just stop running, running Round the ring Don't you know that fate has been decided By the gods Feel the distance, distance Out of reach

Welcome to the end Watch your step, Cassandra, you might fall As I've stumbled on the field Sister mine Find myself in darkest places Find myself drifting away (Death's a certain thing) And the otherworld, the otherworld appears

Find myself, she dies in vain Cannot be freed, I'm falling down As time runs faster, moves towards disaster The ferryman will wait for you, my dear

And then there was silence Just a voice from the otherworld Like a leaf in an icy world Memories will fade Misty tales and poems lost All the bliss and beauty will be gone May my weary soul find release for a while At the moment of death I will smile It's the triumph of shame and disease In the end Iliad

Raise my hands and praise the day Break the spell, show me the way In decay The flame of Troy will shine bright

The newborn child would carry ruin to the hall The newborn's death will be a blessing to us all

Good choice, bad choice? Out of three you've chosen misery Power and wisdom you deny Bad choice, bad choice War is the only answer When love will conquer fear

So the judgment's been made To the fairest, the graceful says Badly he fails

(Warning) Fear the heat of passion, father king Don't let him in, don't let her in Desire, lust, obsession, death they'll bring We can't get out once they are in

She's like the sunrise Outshines the moon at night Precious like starlight She'll bring in a murderous price

In darkness grows the seed of man's defeat Jealousy I can clearly see the end now I can clearly see the end now I can clearly see the end now

The thread of life is spun The coin's been placed below my tongue Never give up, never give in Be on our side so we can win Never give up, never give in Be on our side

Old moon's time is soon to come

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide Nothing to lose, like one we'll stand We'll face the storm created by man

Roar, Roar, Roar, Roar

(Troy, Troy, Troy, Troy) And as the lion slaughters man I am the wolf and you're the lamb

Hallowed Troy shall fall Round the wall Faith is shattered, bodies fall

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide Nothing to lose, like one we'll stand It's all for one and one for all All we live for will be wiped out

I feel that something's wrong Surprise, surprise they're gone Full moon, your time goes by A new moon's still kept out of sight

(We live) Misty tales and poems lost (We die) All the bliss and beauty will be gone May my weary soul find release for a while At the moment of death I will smile It's the triumph of shame and disease In the end Iliad

Raise my hands and praise the day Break the spell, show me the way In decay The flame of Troy will shine bright

Roam in darkness Spread the vision We will be lost if you truly believe

Troy in darkness There's a cold emptiness in our hearts That they've gone away And won't come back

They'll tear down the wall to bring it in They'll truly believe in the lie Lie, lie With blossoms they'll welcome the old foe

The vision's so clear When day and dream unite The end is near You'd better be prepared

The nightmare shall be over now There's nothing more to fear Come join in our singing and dance with us now The nightmare shall be over now There's nothing more to fear The war, it is over, forevermore

No hope, the blind leads the blind Carry on, though future's denied Mare or stallion, there's far more inside We're in at the kill We'll cheerfully die

Misty tales and poems lost All the bliss and beauty will be gone May my weary soul find release for a while At the moment of death I will smile It's the triumph of shame and disease In the end Iliad

Raise my hands and praise the day Break the spell, show me the way In decay The flame of Troy will shine bright

Holy light shines on

So the judgement's been made We're condemned though the trial's far ahead The crack of doom Father, your handsome son is heading home

Still the wind blows Calm and silent Carries news from a distant shore (Heading home) (repeat 2x)

Out of mind Can't get it Can't get it out of my head Sorrow and defeat Sorrow and defeat

#Music #video #greek mythology #greek history #The Iliad #Homer #History #trojan war #helen of troy #Blind Guardian #Spotify

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inevitably-johnlocked · 1 year

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HI STEPH! How has your December been?

Hey Lovely *HUGS*

LOL do you want the "Tumblr happy place" version or the "might be a bit depressing" version??

Tumblr-mask version: It's been alright. We've got some snow now, and it feels a bit more Christmassy. Glad I'm on holidays and just enjoying the time off :)

Real life version: We've got some snow now, and I hate snow. And life's been a bit of a gong show for the past month or so. (cw below cut, medical, retail frustration, and depression mentions)

TL;DR: It's December. Hopefully the new year looks a bit more promising <3

As you all know, this kind of all started back when my job was very uncertain. I had a bit of a brief break when I got my raise and talked with the chief of staff. Few weeks, maybe, then just the desire to have a holiday started to kick in because I realized how EXHAUSTED I was.

I recently went though a pain in the ass experience with my car's manufacturer regarding a small repair on my car that was only supposed to be a one day thing and turned into nearly 3 weeks of me not having a car and them refusing to give me a rental because I don't have an "extended warranty" even though I'm still covered under a warranty. Because of the kind of person I am, this spiralled me into a nightmare scenario of me stressing about not having a car three weeks before Christmas, fighting with the dealership to give me SOME sort of compensation (and failing) and them not being able to tell me when I get my car back – I wanted it back before my Christmas break this week because I prefer to go out during the work week when it's less busy. Anyway, coincidence or not, the missing part MYSTERIOUSLY arrived two days after I escalated my situation with the head office telling them their customer service was shit (in a nicer way, of course, LOL), so I at least have it back now. But not an experience I would wish on my worst enemy, it was THAT stressful.

Leading up to Christmas, work was insane. We're short-staffed and just... no one was "feeling it" this year. We're all tired and we all just want holidays. I took off three extra days since I still had time to book off, so my holidays started sooner than everyone else, and I am so glad I did it. I'm not looking at anything work-related for the next two weeks, thanks.

I don't like winter at all where I live (it's always gloomy and wet; rarely any sun at all), and it feels like my brain is rotting from all the Christmas shit being shoved down my throat. There, I said it. I don't like Christmas, haven't since my dad passed away 2 weeks after Christmas over a dozen years ago. I like the aesthetics of it – the lights, the decorations, the hot cocoa and fancy drinks – but it's TOO MUCH for TOO LONG, and by the time Christmas is here I am DONE. I'm TIRED of people being SHOCKED that I don't like Christmas... ugh. PLUS my seasonal depression spikes badly at Christmas because all people seem to do is like to remind me how alone I am. Like thanks, appreciate it. UGH. The only thing I like about Christmas is that my work gives us 2 weeks every year between Christmas and New Year, and I spend most of that alone watching movies, drinking cocoa or playing video games. It's wonderful. I hear about everyone in my extended family having to visit all these people on Christmas day and I'm like LOL I'm in my jammies watching the Avengers, thanks, you keep that stress.

Christmas is EXTRA kinda poopy this year because one of my closest extended family members found out they have throat cancer at the beginning of November. They're in chemo right now and in good spirits, so I'm trying to stay positive about it, but it's hard to not think about, you know?

Discovering a lot about myself in therapy, and it's mentally draining. That's all I'm comfortable sharing right now.

I'm just all around TIRED and LONELY and feel like no one cares about me, y'know? I feel like I'm never going to be anyone who accomplished something worthwhile (and before y'all say it, my BRAIN LOGICALLY KNOWS THIS IS ALL FALSE, but my wires get crossed and the depression sinks in instead with the intrusive thoughts – My therapist finds it fascinating that I have this kind of awareness and she's trying to find a way to work around it). Some days are worse than others, especially in the winter in this city going on month 2 of no sunshine, UGGGHHH. Having moods that change with the weather REALLY fucking sucks.

AND I've been looking again at getting a cat, but I think I might have to once again put it on the back-burner, because my phone is finally crapping out (it's an iPhone 6S Plus, so it's OOOOOOOLLDD by today's standards) with the camera jittering and the battery barely lasting 4 hours in standby mode, so I might have to get a new one sooner than later. AND I also want to re-look at getting a mortgage again so I'm ready when the housing market inevitably crashes and I can get a condo cheaper than 500K :/ My rent is still cheaper right now because I'm so grandfathered in that I'm paying under 1000$ right now for rent, so staying where I am is the SMART thing, but I'm miserable because the space is too small now. ANYWAY, money. Can't get a cat right now AGAIN because of money. Ugh. I'm not broke by any means, I just.......... am so annoyed my single-person groceries have gone from 50$ a week to 150$ a week, and I HATE HATE HATE it. It's ridiculous. Finally get a raise but I can never catch a break, it seems :/ It's not Avacado Toast, Karen, it's the whole damned economy.

So yeah, that's basically it. I don't talk about myself that much here because I am a fairly private person. I don't like bothering people with my problems because I always feel like a burden. Sometimes, though, I just wish I had a human person I could visit regularly to chat with (that I don't have to pay for, LOL), is all. AND my blog is my happy place, so I try to keep it positive where I can.

Hope you're having a good month, and I hope the holidays treat you well <3

#steph replies #chatting with lovelies #about me #negativity cw #depression cw #my ramblings

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vasiktomis · 3 years

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Pomegranate, Chapter 17: Quiet Earth, Part I.

John Seed x Female Deputy

Rating: Explicit.

Read it on Ao3 here!

Notes: Thanks all who have been keeping up with this! I'm so consistently floored by the amount of content creators we have in this fandom corner and the sheer level of workmanship that exists here. This is the first chapter of Pom that I'll be posting to tumblr, and I'm hoping to draw up a little sketch with each update. If you have any suggestions, I'd love to hear them! Big thank you to @shallow-gravy and @consumedkings as always for dealing with my stupidity and being a pair of top-notch angels, and also just like, everybody who takes time out of their day to engage with this? Y'all really sticking with ultra slow burn and I swear after some wicked angst in the next couple of chapters I'll finally be able to throw some well-deserved smut at you. WARNINGS: Forced conversion, descriptions of dissociation and derealisation, explicit language, sexual content, depictions of violence, guns, blood and gore. Canon-typical debauchery.

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“Don’t touch him!”

Mary May lunged with enough force for John to feel the wake of air sweep through him, even with how quickly she was snatched up and yanked back to her place. The soles of her tennis shoes squeaked against the floor as she was dragged to the far side of the room, unable to be trusted with providing audience to Nick’s Atonement.

A shame, really. It was nicer as a shared experience.

The Baptist rolled his jaw, off-setting some of the tension arising from the shrieks that the blonde flung at the back of his head. He righted himself, taking the tattoo gun from one of his faithful with a gracious nod, and turned his attention down to the pilot currently pinned to the floor. Without a word, he sank to his knees, straddling the man, keeping silent as he could just to listen out for any change in his demeanour. Fear. Grief. Defeat. Acceptance. A sign to prove his readiness.

Nick didn't flinch, breathing hard through his nose and watching with hateful eyes. John hovered an indicating hand over the man’s bare chest, bruised from the fight he’d put up against his capture, mentally mapping out placement. Then, he came in with the needle, beginning with the stem of an ’E’, right in the centre of Nick's sternum.

The pilot snorted, masking discomfort with indifference, turning a wince into a scoff. “Figures you don’t use stencils. I ain’t got a hope in hell of this turning out good, do I.”

That casual old Nick attitude. He missed it.

If only he’d let him do this 5 years ago. He wouldn’t have had to miss it.

John feigned offense. “Oh I’m sorry, Nick. Did you want me to do the rest in cursive? Add a feather? Infinity symbol?”

“For fuck’s sake-”

“Talk about tonal dissonance. It’s not meant to be pretty.” He grumbled. “Might’ve gotten a little more practice if you’d-”

A yell from the rear entryway pulled John’s hand away from his canvas. More squeaking. More interruption. Jerome Jeffries getting hauled into the church, held under each arm by the pair of Chosen that John had sent looking for him.

The Baptist cast a look over his shoulder at them, content with the sight of Jerome adequately beaten and bloodied. “Ahh. Pastor. Try to run and hide? It’s no wonder your flock ran astray with a shepherd so quick to leave them to the wolves.”

Jerome ignored him. No reply. No eye contact. A crime John noted to make worthy of capital punishment in the New Eden. The Pastor was set down beside Mary May, who immediately began seeing to his injuries. Murmuring bubbled between them.

“Did you reach them?” The bartender asked. Must’ve been a negative, because the next thing she did was curse.

“The Deputy was calling when they caught me.”

And if she had half the spine to come and broker an agreement for her friends, she’d be inbound.

“Could you at least gag them? I’m trying to concentrate.” John ordered no one in particular, earning another scoff from Nick. “The faster we work, the less we’ll have to get through once she arrives. The quicker we can be out of this heinous town.”

“Stay away from her, shitbag.” The pilot ground out, this time unable to save face when John retaliated, pressing the gun just a little too hard, digging down through an extra few layers of skin.

“Nick Rye, you’re a married man.” John tutted playfully, resuming his work. “That sin of yours again. Take, take, take. Didn’t think the Deputy to be your type. Wouldn’t say you’re hers, either.”

Nick looked downright disgusted at the prospect. Less concerned for the state of his wife - which meant she'd been a likely getaway. “Always been so fuckin’ jealous.”

“Come again?”

“Think folks are stupid? Think I don’t know you?”

“You don't know me, period.” John bit back, skin on the back of his neck flushing between boiling and freezing.

“Anyone else givin’ you this much trouble’d be long dead by now. That shit on the radio? Reckon you’d be talkin’ like that if your family could hear you across the river?” Nick continued, averting his gaze when John shot him a particularly poisonous look. He didn’t, however, find it necessary to respond to such a veiled accusation.

At least until -

“Everybody knows you wanna stick it to her, John-”

As if he’d been awaiting the chance, John’s free hand shot to Nick’s jaw, aching in protest when he squeezed, not stopping until he could feel the man’s molars beneath his flesh. “That’s about enough from you.” He crooned.

John had his desires, yes. He’d accepted that much. Had he not been sworn to celibacy, he might have jumped at the opportunity to respond to Cora’s advances last night. That said, she was still an outsider, and while her Atonement made the prospect less dicey, he couldn’t consciously consider laying with the woman in real life.

No matter how torturous it had become to gear his thoughts toward anything else.

He could be content with just her company, without making any further advances on her. Last night had simply been a moment of weakness, and he’d prevailed by stepping away.

“If you’ll excuse me.” John switched off the little machine once he’d completed his piece and promptly stood to beckon for replacement parts. Mary May might have gotten away with an allergic reaction last time he’d attempted this, but considering he’d be slicing it out of her within the hour, he couldn’t see any reason for her to be complaining. The bartender had been a thorn in his side from the start. While Nick and his wife had once lent John their...whatever a sinner’s closest equivalent was to friendship, Mary May had always been trouble. Wore her heart on her sleeve and trusted no one she hadn’t grown up around. Bolshie. Almost fucking killed him, once.

John busied himself with needle transfers and a pleasant expression. He could feel the woman’s eyes on him.

Did she think what Nick proclaimed? That complete and utter lie?

How fucking crass. No, he did not want to ’stick it’ to Cora. At least, as far as anyone else was concerned. He was fond of her, and - while yes, he had encountered temptation - if one disregarded the cum-stained, stolen panties in his pocket, and the conjured fantasies, and the purely incidental erection he’d maintained after the Deputy stuck her tongue down his throat last night - there was simply no evidence to suggest to anyone else that he was even remotely tempted to break the rules.

Sex was the furthest thing from his mind. It was mere coincidence that today had just so happened to fall on a morning in which he’d needed to trim.

…

If, however, she were to decide that she wanted to continue what she’d attempted last night, then surely he couldn’t be to blame if he only failed to stop her. It wasn’t technically fornication if he didn’t initiate it. Nor was it considered intercourse if -

“Brother John.”

John jumped, heart stopping, whipping his head around to the Chosen standing at the door of the church.

“What?" He asked thickly.

“The Deputy’s arrived.”

Right on cue, the crackling of gunshots drifted in alongside the Chosen’s announcement.

“Tell everyone to hold their fire.” John ordered. “We have them outnumbered tenfold. The Deputy can’t be stupid enough to create a hostage situation. Direct her here, and peacefully.”

The Chosen’s throat bobbed, swallowing back outrage, and John squinted hard at him, trying to dispel the flicker of green light in the mist outside as it settled against the man’s temple.

“John, I don’t think-”

He never got a chance to act on that incoming insubordination.

Instead, he jerked, cut off by a sickening crack as a section of his skull blew out of his head. Red mist and liquified brain matter followed, splattering against the doorframe, and the Chosen slumped lifeless onto the front step.

John wasn’t so much shaken by the killing as he was irritated by everyone else’s apparent refusal to let today go according to plan. Maybe also the pile of brains and hair now sitting on his once-pristine red carpet. He’d made this easy for the woman: kill everyone he could round up, leave her with no one to claim duty to, and get this all over and done with. Have her home by mid-afternoon. Embark on a new chapter and achieve salvation. It was that simple.

Woe to him for trusting in her common sense.

“Fuck’s sake. Wrath begets more wrath.” He muttered, smoothing a hand over his chin. He didn’t have the patience for this any longer. “Fine. Sister -”

A woman stood from the pews as soon as John made eye contact, equally as unshaken by the scene mere feet away.

“Send out word: the Deputy wants to sacrifice her friends for the sake of a fight.” John punctuated the end of his sentence with a click as he returned his focus to jamming the needles into his tattoo gun. “Give her what she wants. Take her by force.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The smokescreen was beginning to clear, but despite the weight it was taking off her lungs, Cora would’ve preferred it remain just a little longer. At least until they’d cleared out the town. Had they been quicker, it might have lasted longer. Covered their approach to Fall’s End. Given them more cover to sneak about unseen.

The streets, while still hazy, were visible now. It wasn’t a difficult task watching Peggie silhouettes run from building to building in search of her team. Resistance members and civilians were either in the process of being rounded up, or littered the road and pavement, dead. The Ryes, Mary May, and Pastor Jerome were yet to be seen amongst either group.

Same went for Boomer.

Aside from the barking of orders from Chosen and faithful, there was little sound. Knowing how much of a fuss her dog had put up the last time he’d been caught by the Project struck Cora’s nerves. He was his own alarm, and he would not go peacefully.

Not hearing him was an indication of the worst.

Some part of her brain argued against the idea. Vouching that John wouldn’t have hurt the creature. That was her dog. He had to be an exception to the massacre, no matter how vicious he behaved.

She had to find him, and creeping through the rear entry of the Spread Eagle was the first point of call.

Luckily enough, the back door had yet to be boarded up. Peggies who rushed past covered windows hardly stopped to peek inside the place for fear of being tainted by the presence of alcohol. Sneaking in was simple enough, too, at least once Jess had picked the lock.

“I’m going to pretend that door was open.” The Deputy murmured her equivalent to praise, passing into the building.

Grace headed straight in after her, taking a left to search for any sign of Mary May while she took a right toward the stairs.

“You pretend the Cook’s head was already gone when we found him?” Jess whispered.

“Freak accident. You all saw it.”

“First floor’s clear.” Grace announced from the serving hatch in the kitchen, clearly unhappy about it.

“Right.” Cora acknowledged, “I’ll check up top.”

The second story was as dead-quiet as the first. Furniture had been knocked over in the hallway and bedrooms had been raided. None of it indicated anything good, but she still had to know.

Cora pushed open the door to her room, and while she held no expectation of what she’d find, her heart sank anyway.

It was empty.

Boomer was gone.

Only his makeshift collar and a tattered bandana remained atop the rug he’d been snoozing on that morning.

Her dog.

John had either taken him or killed him, just like the rest. He’d do the same to the rest of her team. She should’ve taken the Baptist’s offer before the latter had even become a possibility.

“No sign?” Grace affirmed once the Deputy slipped back down to the first floor. “My guess is either they’re in hiding, or John’s giving them special treatment. If they were dead he’d be parading them.”

Sharky and Hurk exchanged a frown when Cora offered only a nod, notably more meek than usual.

“Was he in there, darlin’?” Adelaide asked, a little too gently not to invite a sting to her eyes.

Cora felt her jaw clench. It was a different breed of nausea, trying to keep her composure under the scrutiny of the rest of the team. She managed to shake her head, and Adelaide’s hand found her shoulder.

“Could still be with the others, yet.” The woman offered.

“So how do we find them?” Jess asked.

Find John Seed, of course.

“Finding them’s one thing. Getting to them might be the harder part.” Cora began. “The smokescreen’s only getting thinner and there’s Peggies everywhere. It's grasslands from here to the hills. No way we can herd everyone across a field on-foot, safely. We’ve got to make sure they stay freed, first.”

“And?” Jess huffed. “We’re gonna kill some Peggies, right?”

The blonde considered that.

“We split up. Search the buildings for anyone who hasn’t been caught yet. Round them up and plant explosives as we go. With enough chaos, maybe we can have a shot at turning the tide in the short term.”

Sharky was practically trembling. “Explosives, like, everywhere?”

“Everywhere. The more damage, the better.” Cora replied. “Adelaide, Xander, pair up. Sharky and Hurk, same with you.”

“And us on range?” Jess grinned, trading a look with Grace who maintained absolute stoicism. “I’m so into that.”

“No.”

…

“Say what?”

“No more ranged attacks. I need you and Grace to head back to the van -”

Jess was advancing on her before she’d even finished her sentence.

“You’re pulling me outta the fight? The fuck gives?” The huntress loomed over the Deputy, incredulous. Cora made an effort to stay put, but Jess’s insistence managed to outweigh her stubbornness, forcing the blonde to compromise by leaning as far back as she could without falling.

“We can’t keep running on short-term wins.” Cora insisted. “We have to put our foot down. No more small assaults. No more hoping John gets demoralised enough that he hands himself over.”

Sharky frowned. “What’re you saying?”

She met his gaze, puffing out her chest, retaking her space. “I’m saying the Henbane Bridge is unmanned right now. If we get word to the County Jail, there’s no roadblock to stop them from helping us win this. John Seed’s throwing everything he can at us. I say we try for the same. I say we end it for good. We’re gonna take back Holland Valley. Today.”

“...You really like that dog, huh.”

“That too.”

Jess looked unconvinced. “So the two of us are running errands while the rest of you are holding the fort? Fucking bullshit.”

“I told you. No more range.” Cora bit back, jabbing a thumb toward Hurk and Sharky. “You’d rather send Boshaws and Drubmans to convince Tracey to send us her best people? No offence.”

“None taken, bitch.” Adelaide grumbled.

Grace exhaled, throwing away momentary hesitation. “We’ll be fast.”

Cora traded a nod with the sniper before looking to Jess once more.

Still unconvinced.

“They have cars with guns on them, remember?”

The corner of Jess’s mouth ticked. Temptation.

Mission accomplished.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The tacky fucking carpet was the first thing she noticed, creeping along Main Street. Bliss petals had been sprinkled all over the road leading up to the church.

The carpet ended at the door. An invitation if she ever saw one. Boastful. Arrogant.

A pang of dread ached through Cora's bones, holding her in place while she drew her revolver. It could be an ambush. It probably was an ambush, but there was nothing she could feasibly do to avoid it. If the others were in there, then she couldn't wait around any longer.

She had to do this. At least hold out until Jess and Grace returned, with or without help.

She'd been running for long enough. All other options had been exhausted. At least John offered the least awful defeat.

Drawing close to the entrance, the Deputy pointedly avoided examining a dead crow that had been impaled upon the wall. She inhaled, holding the breath in her lungs, steadying her heart rate.

It was only freedom.

She opened the door, immediately training the gun out before her, following its guide into the room.

About a dozen Peggies dotted the space, leaning against walls, lining the pews - all angled at the pulpit, observing Nick on the floor. He stifled a cry while John sliced through the final remaining layers of skin binding the tattoo to his chest, peeling the word 'GREED' out of his flesh. Blood pooled on the floor around them, and the moment John had stepped away, the pilot was descended on with antiseptic and bandages.

The Deputy waited for nausea at the sight to take its course. It never did. She was all but numbed to the sight.

"Deputy, run!"

Mary May's voice cut through the silence, and the bartender lurched from her own spot on the ground. Guns raised all around the room, swinging around to aim for Cora.

”Hold!” John barked immediately, unconcerned when the Deputy shifted her aim to him. Instead, he busied himself with washing his sullied hands. “Hold your fire.”

His followers obeyed.

Cora, meanwhile, cocked the revolver in her grip. One foot edged into the room, and she glanced around for the Project’s captives before returning her gaze to John. All on the other side of the room. Pinned. Fuck.

“Hope County Sheriff’s Department.” She announced, staring the Baptist down, ignoring the grin that crept onto his face - like he found it fucking funny. “Weapons on the ground. Step away from the hostages.”

“Hostages?” John snorted. He gestured Pastor Jerome, Mary May, and Nick. “These are guests! This is their Atonement. This is your Atonement.”

“Drop the fucking weapons.”

John’s patience thinned. Quickly. “I’m not doing this with you.” He replied simply. “Not today.”

With his own look around the room, John inclined his head. An unspoken order to which everyone carrying a gun turned them on her allies.

“We both know you don’t have enough bullets for everyone. Nor do you have the time. So why don’t you put down my gun and surrender.”

“Don’t-” Mary May was cut off with the tap of steel against her temple. Warning.

John was right. She was outnumbered. There was no chance of getting any of them out with force alone.

She inhaled. Exhaled. Watched the fondness slip back onto John’s face like it had never left, and set the gun on the floor.

“That’s my girl.” John murmured. Then, he motioned. “Get her ready.”

Cora’s stomach dropped as two sets of arms coiled around hers, each pulling and pushing, prickling at her skin with unfamiliar, sickening touch. Biology told her to resist. Escape the sensation. The downward pulling.

“No, stop it.” Escaped her while she squirmed. “Get off. Stop touching me-”

“Her friends can’t be far. Find them.” The Baptist ordered, turning away toward the pulpit.

Cora’s knees hit the floor. There was no holding the repetition of protests, but even as she consciously elevated the volume of her voice, it grew quieter in her ears. Calculated attempts to jerk away and make an escape became automatic twitches.

One of John’s followers - a female - crept into view, fingers tugging at the top button on her uniform collar. John readied a tattoo gun over the woman’s shoulder, and the Deputy’s mind screamed alarm bells. Get out. Escape. Fight back. Regain control.

“I won’t hurt you, sister.”

This time, she sank, curling forward, angling herself away from the woman. Another attempt, and she wrenched away again, snarling. Then, the Peggies around her must have gotten tired of all the fuss, because the tear of cotton clawed at her ears. Ringing through her brain.

Her back felt cold all of a sudden.

Green material slipped down her arms, and at the sight of her own uniform pooling in shreds in her own lap, Cora ceased her thrashing. The shredded shirt was yanked from her belt and tossed aside, and she watched with growing resignation while John turned back around.

His gaze found hers. Then flickered downward, first to the compression bra, then a margin to the right. “Here I thought you’d be unmarked.” He commented, inspecting what was visible of the old ink on her lower ribs while he approached.

Hands pressed against Cora’s shoulders, and she drifted back until her shoulder blades hit the floor.

John continued to loom until he stood directly over her. He sank to his knees, expression softening with his descent until he was on all fours on top of her. He looked almost adoring, and she hated how it comforted her, just slightly. She hated how the hands had disappeared from her limbs, and yet she still made no further attempt to escape. He had every ounce of power now.

She didn’t know she’d started trembling until his free hand swept over her collarbones, mapping out her chest, calming the gooseflesh beading on her from the chill, or the fright, or perhaps just that this whole thing felt so humiliatingly exposing.

A blush swelled over John’s throat, maybe indicating some straying line of thought. He snapped out of it and settled to sit on her hips. “This looks familiar, doesn’t it?” He teased, hovering the tattoo gun right over the centre of her sternum.

“Dont.” Was all she could manage. Weak. Pleading. “I don’t want you to.”

“You have no idea how good you’re going to feel after this.” John cooed.

One of his fingers drifted along her jaw. An attempt at comforting her, but to no avail. He looked equal parts gentle and feral with excitement.

The machine buzzed, lowering pitch when the needles finally pressed into her flesh.

This was it.

She’d lost. There was no going back, anymore. No more normal, no more ridding herself of this family. They’d taken everything, and now they were claiming ownership over her, too.

The others were being hunted. It was only a matter of time. John was working too quickly. They’d be gone before the Cougars even crossed the river.

Cora’s nerves muted. Sound closed to just the rumble of blood in her ears. She receded into herself. Found a backseat in her mind, away from the sensory overload and the humiliation and her own failure while her body quietly continued: ”Dont, don’t, stop.”

She’d lost, and John wouldn’t stop. Not while he was branding the evidence of his victory into her flesh.

Defeat tasted worse than anticipated.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bullets whizzed overhead while Sharky and Hurk took cover beneath the window, watching helplessly as the aisle of potato chips and bar nuts was torn to shreds by the onslaught. Dorito dust filled the shop like mustard gas.

“Cuz, I think they found us!” Hurk barked, snapping an arm over his head in defence when a stray round ricocheted off the front counter.

“What gives you that impression?” Sharky hit back, hurriedly setting down his shotgun and shrugging his backpack to the floor.

“How many are there?”

“How about you check?”

A moment of quiet occurred while the cousins glared at each other, leaving their standoff to a battle of no blinking. Then the Peggies outside must’ve finished re-loading, because the back wall of the shop was suddenly being shot into swiss cheese.

They were okay. Everything was cool. Addie and Xander had taken their share of explosives and gone the quiet route. Grace and Jess were gone. Shorty had disappeared into the church, and while he couldn't count the best, Sharky was pretty confident that John had caught her.

Could they have kept on looking for survivors and breaking out captives? Sure - but why do that when they could kill, like 40 birds with one stone and beeline for the gas station? It was conveniently across the road from the church, empty of any and all life barring the dormant tanks underground. An explosion that big was sure to fuck up like a good portion of Main Street. Not even the Chosen would be able to resist checking it out.

Disconnecting the safety switches had been easy. He’d been arrested for doing it like 5 times already. Cops, Peggies; it didn’t matter - Sharky knew what he was doing, and without the giant swinging dick of the law hanging over him, the man was on a mission. Cultists shooting at him was fine. He was used to that.

Threat of death or no, he wasn’t giving up the chance to see this place blow sky high.

“We’ll be outta here any second, Hurky.” Sharky assured. “Just gotta sprinkle a little C-4 around the place and we’ll be gone before it even goes off.”

Hurk was sweating. A lot. He was accustomed to being shot at, but normally, he had more than just Sharky to get him out of a tight spot. “Alright, bro. Gimme some. Many hands and what have you.”

“Fuck yeah. First step, toss some at the tanker outside. We wanna get the place as fiery as possible up here to wake up the big boys underground, and-”

Sharky stopped in his tracks, eyeing the backpack he’d just been in the process of unzipping.

“-uhh.”

“Uhh?”

“Hurky, can I be real with you?”

“Is now the best time for a deep and meaningful?” Hurk hissed, crawling toward him nonetheless.

The arsonist stuck his hand down the pack, rifling through fluff and mesh. “I, uh, I think I brought the wrong bag. And by think I mean know without a shadow of a doubt.”

Hurk watched as his cousin tugged the green, furry headpiece of a dragon out into the open.

“You brought-...”

“I brought my fursuit.”

“Not the C-4?”

“Not the C-4.”

“Okay, bro. That's fine. I'm not mad. Human error. Not even a little bit?”

Sharky checked again, just for good measure. “Nope...so, uhm...you got a match?”

Hurk ran a hank through his hair. “Not to poo poo your ideas, but that probably ain’t the best move.”

So just like that, they were fucked.

Jess and Grace still hadn’t come back. The others were nowhere to be seen. Shorty was holed up in that church, and he and Hurk were about to be rounded up by born-again virgins.

Shit, if that were the case -

“Well, if this is gonna be the last opportunity.” Sharky grunted, tugging the suit out and unzipping the back. “May as well enjoy our last minutes of freedom, huh?”

Hurk took the cue, creeping across the destroyed shop floor and reaching for a popped bag of pretzels. He sat back against the wall, leaning against the rocket launcher he’d propped up against the corner.

“Man.” The brunette sighed, staring at the floor. “If only we had some other kind of ranged, explosive device.”

“No shit.” Sharky agreed. “Some high velocity shit would fix this.”

They exchanged a sympathetic look once the arsonist had zipped himself up and crept over and sit beside his cousin, both leaning on either side of the RPG.

Hurk held out the bag.

“Pretzel?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Was that so bad?” John asked, placing the tattoo gun aside and framing the Deputy’s marked chest. ’WRATH', in true black, beading with blood. The skin surrounding the text was mottled and inflamed. Excess ink covered the area in patches, gathering in the dip of her cleavage, disappearing beneath her sports bra.

All that sin, already leaking out through the exit he’d made for her.

Gorgeous.

Cora didn’t respond. That was fine. Shock was normal. She’d thank him once this was all over. For now, she just trembled, lock jawed, dissociated gaze searching what John had thought was him until he sat up. No, instead she was watching the ceiling.

John flashed a smile, blocking out a tiny streak of dread at the sight of the woman so vacant. Sweeping a lock of stained hair over her shoulder, he smoothed his fingers past her neck, attempting to gently angle her focus back to him. “Hey. You can come back now. We’re all done.”

You're finally on the other side. React to it. React to me. Look at me-

The boom came first, hollow and deep, and John felt the floor beneath him rumble. Chandeliers and decorations wobbled from the disturbance. Several of his followers shot from their seats, immediately abandoning the Resistance leaders they��d guarded in favour of pacing back and forth, trying to get a look at whatever was happening outside.

“Is this it?”

“Is it the Collapse?”

“It’s time?”

“John, is it the Collapse?”

The panic escalated quickly, forcing the Baptist to break his attention away from the empty woman below him and rein in the flock.

“Calm down.” He exclaimed, “It’s not the Collapse. It’s probably just-”

Another boom. Almost deafeningly loud.

This time, the whole church shook. Windows shattered in their creaking panes and smashed to the floor while pews squealed heavily in protest.

Contrary to his assertion, John dove down, covering the Deputy with his body. Holy shit, was it the Collapse?

The tremor must have been enough to snap Cora out of her trance, because a muffled “Get your tits out of my face.” buzzed against John’s chest.

Tragically, however, the Baptist never got the opportunity to reply to her. Had it not been for the fucking tennis shoe colliding with the side of his skull, he imagined he’d have something very clever to say. Alas, pain shot through his head and he jerked to the side, fighting against the blow to stay put. A snarl from Mary May, his apparent attacker, sounded in retaliation. She dove into him, knee driving into his ribs, throwing him off of the Deputy.

His thoughts left him for the briefest moment, overtaken by ensuing gunshots and shouts and the shrieks of the bartender as she was clawed away from him. Her hand shot forward right as she was yanked up, intended as a punch. It didn’t land, and John couldn’t help but shoot her a smirk for her failure.

“Deputy, gun!”

Nevermind. It wasn’t a punch after all. Mary May had been pointing over his shoulder at the revolver that had been surrendered on the floor. His revolver. The same one Cora was now scrambling toward.

No.

John lurched, heart leaping into his throat.

Not now. Not after he’d won. Not when they were so close.

His hand found the leg of Cora’s pants, wrenching, pulling her away from the weapon, and she kicked against him. Her finger tips slid against the barrel of the revolver, tugging it into her palm.

God wouldn’t fucking undo his victory.

John snarled, catching the Deputy’s wrist when she tried to aim - at him no less. Without her own recovery time achieved, he was able to wrestle the weapon from her easily enough, flattening her struggling body beneath his just long enough to hook an arm around her waist. He twisted around, holding the woman’s back against his belly. Her squirming ceased with the press of the muzzle against her head, and the moment her allies had taken notice of the change, everything went still.

Finally.

A little civility.

Several of John’s followers lay on the floor, either dead or close to it. Only a half-dozen remained, though the pair of Chosen had survived and placed themselves closest to their leader.

Pastor Jerome had procured a handgun from within his own bible - something that pulled a breathless laugh out of John as he surveyed the others. Nick hadn’t been able to arm himself, but he’d still tackled one of the faithful to the ground. His knuckles were bloodied. A familiar sight. Mary May had wrestled a gun of her own away from the woman who’d seized her. She aimed it shakily at John.

Armed but outnumbered, outgunned, and now, they were in check.

They never learned, did they?

“The way you people behave, you’d think salvation was a bad thing.” John tittered. “Right. Now, let’s try this again. Atonement, or damnation.” To punctuate his meaning, he tapped the muzzle against Cora’s head. She grunted in protest, and he ignored her. Of course it was a bluff. No one else knew that but him, though. It was too risky a move for the Resistance to let him do away with the one person that banded their factions.

She was their leader. They couldn’t lose her.

John looked around the room once more, locking eyes with Jerome first - then Mary May. “Are we going to behave?”

The answer was immediate and clear: a gunshot cracking through the Baptist’s ears and the flash of a blast spilling from Mary May’s weapon. Cora’s elbow driving into his stomach and the reaction time of his Chosen snapping to attention, covering him, already hauling John out of the church and onto the street.

Fuck no, he wasn't leaving without his prize.

"GRAB HER!" John howled, struggling against the attempts to get him to safety. "Leave the rest!"

It was a reluctant effort, but the Deputy was yanked along as well, shoved into Johns arms on his repeated orders, with me, with me.

“Mary May, what the fuck!” The Deputy roared over her shoulder.

“Sorry Deputy! I missed!”

Missed?

“You sure about that? Jesus fucking Christ!”

More shots sounded, but only the noise pursued them from the building. It wasn’t until John had shoved Cora into the back of the waiting truck that he realised how warm his hand had gotten. Wet, too.

“Get to the ranch!” One of the Chosen snarled up front, casting a look back at the Baptist while the vehicle took off, watching as he peeled away from the blonde to inspect himself.

Blood.

He was bleeding. But where from? Barring the sting of his scabs and that kick to the head, nothing hurt. There were no wounds hiding under his sleeves or -

A hiss sounded from the Deputy beside him, curling in on herself.

Shit.

She hadn’t elbowed him.

“Cora-” John scrambled for her. "Cora, let me see."

“Told you not to call me that.” The Deputy grit out, kicking at him until she’d well and truly jammed herself into the corner of the seat and the car door. Her left hand gripped her right forearm, just below the elbow and to no avail. Crimson coated the skin on her side, encasing her arm completely and seeping through her fingertips.

She was bleeding. Not heavily, but steadily.

”Deputy.” John bit back, advancing. “You’re hurt. Let me help-”

Just like that, the kicking resumed. “Don’t touch me-DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME-”

“For once in your fucking life, just relax!”

Only incomprehensible snarling came in response.

John rolled his jaw, brimming with as much irritation as he was adrenaline. The Resistance had made their choice. Regretful, but final. He’d gotten what he came for, and he wasn’t intending on losing her just because she was too stubborn to accept help.

He glanced at the revolver still in his grip. Then back at Cora, rotating the grip toward her. A threat. “Are you going to let me help, or am I going to have to calm you down?”

“Don’t you dare.” Her words came hoarse. She gave scowling a red hot go, but without the rationale to deny him, the Deputy lacked conviction. She exhaled. “Fuck it. We've done this enough already. You get ten minutes. Then you’re under arrest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Her cheek twitched. A weak chuckle. The slightest flash of acknowledgement as she let him press his weight over her forearm. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t pulsing; nor was there a puncture wound. A gouged strip had been carved into her flesh where the bullet had grazed, but nothing vital seemed to have been struck.

“That - you can keep saying.”

"You're a flirt when you're in shock, Deputy." Had John not been too busy regulating about a dozen other emotions, he might have flushed at her words. For a moment, he just sat there, basking in the borderline friendliness on her face. Then, it occurred to him that they were among watchful company, and he cleared his throat, returning to his task.

Minutes passed. No more words were exchanged. Not until they’d passed the Rye and Son’s sign.

The Chosen in the front passenger’s seat looked over his shoulder, dismissing another over the radio before regarding the Baptist. “The Resistance isn’t making ground. The faithful are still rounding up stragglers, and we’ve taken casualties, but numbers are looking strong. Medic will meet you at the ranch, John. We can deliver our newest sister to the Gate while you recover.”

John inclined his head. “Much obliged. We need this one to stay with us until she’s completed her vows. She can’t be trusted unsupervised, but I won’t put the responsibility of containing her back on our people again.” He looked to Cora, then. Her face had run pale and she’d gone clammy, but she remained upright. Just...woozy. Pacified, for now.

He’d got what he came for. Fuck the rest.

“I have something to say.” The blonde announced, swaying against John’s arm. “I know why Mary May shot me.”

“This another one of your jokes?” John deadpanned.

“This one’s funny, I swear.”

“...go on, then.”

“It’s because I never tip.”

For a moment, Cora looked very satisfied with herself. Then, she retched, slumping forward into the Baptist’s lap when he instinctually jolted out of the potential line of fire. He hurried to steady her, keeping tight hold over her wound, and grimaced while the noise escaped her a second time.

Thank God nothing came out; his shoes would’ve been the first to know about it.

The Deputy didn’t sit back up.

That was fine. So long as she wasn’t dead. So long as she wasn’t fighting back.

“It’s all the sin escaping you.” John explained, off-handed, when a complaining grunt sounded below. “Evil being expelled from your body. You’ll feel better soon.”

“Pretty sure it’s my blood pressure, actually. Soon as I’m good again, you’re history.”

When one disregarded the fact that she’d had a gun trained on him earlier - and the blood drying uncomfortably on his clothes - and the persistent pounding of a headache from Mary May’s heel, this was almost pleasant. The quiet roads. The Deputy, all but atoned with her head on his thigh. Not fighting back. Conceding defeat. Peaceful.

He got what he came for.

He’d won.

He was saved.

Passing his thumb over Cora’s ribs, John’s attention was pulled back to the old ink peeking out from beneath the band of her top. Text, blurred and flattened enough to be years old, and too obscured to decipher.

“Thought I’d be your first.” The brunette murmured.

“Jealous?”

Yes.

“Don’t be ridiculous. What’s it say?”

“‘The Mountains Are Calling’.”

A sickening wave of dread passed over the Baptist. The rock forming in his throat, icy and bitter and seizing him against any reply.

The mountains are calling.

Jacob. Joseph. The Trials. Atonement wasn’t the final step. Handing her over to his brothers was the final step.

He got what he came for, but the woman in his arms wasn’t the trophy intended for him.

He was saved. He’d redeemed himself. He’d completed his task and Joseph would permit him beyond the gates. That was all he was supposed to do. That was enough.

That had to be enough.

“‘And I Must Go’.” John completed quietly.

Cora tilted her head a little, not quite looking at him - almost like she was trying not to. “You know John Muir.”

“Not enough to warrant a photo on the bedside table.”

“Shut up.”

There was nothing convincing about the chuckle he offered. He was too busy observing her, studying the side of her face. Committing her to memory as if he hadn’t spent years acquainting himself with every spot and micro-expression.

“Maybe working for you will be bearable.” She murmured, and John’s heart only sank further. "If I don't manage to arrest you."

The mountains are calling.

She still had no idea that all the promises he’d made her had been fabricated. That she wouldn’t be staying. That he’d lied to her.

The mountains were calling. In a few days time, she’d know it. She’d despise him. She’d be taken off his hands and he’d assume his regular duties once again.

He’d saved both of them.

Cora’s thumb absently grazed back and forth on his knee. Ignorant. “Can I ask something?”

It took everything in him not to mirror the action against her skin.

“Of course.”

“Can I start next Monday?”

"What happened to you being such a workaholic?"

"To be honest with you, I'm really fucking tired."

She’d be incredible. Jacob would love her. Joseph would be proud. John had accomplished something near-impossible for his family, and even if the Deputy hated him - even if she forgot him entirely, he was content with the knowledge that he’d have brought her to salvation.

Even if they never saw each other again, he’d know that she’d passed through the gates. That she’d climb to the surface once the world had been scorched clean. She’d rebuild, and marry, and have children, and he’d do the same.

Hopeful anticipation and the agony of longing had never felt so similar before.

“Fine.” John smiled, giving in, sliding his fingers up her arm and coaxing a stray lock of hair out of her face. There were no promises he’d be able to do it again after this. “But on one condition.”

“What?”

“Spend those days with me.”

Cora stirred, angling to peer up at him out of the corner of her eye. She smiled crookedly.

“Deal.”

#far cry 5 #john seed #cora stammos #far cry 5 fanfic #far cry 5 oc #john seed x female deputy #all hail cora's big fucking muscles #no beta we die like men

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ivy-kissobryos · 4 years

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hi, im kinda new to witchcraft and i dont really know anything (prayers, rituals, beliefs, etc), plus there's a lot of contrasting info online so i don't know what i should go with. could you please briefly explain how you view witchcraft and what you do? i'm going around asking this to a lot of other blogs to get a general sense of things. thanks!

Before we begin I just wanna point out that when you say prayers and beliefs, I think of paganism. When I hear ritual and witchcraft, I think of magic.

Religion and magic is intertwined but you do not have to be pagan or wicca or whatever to be a witch, or vise versa. For me, a witch is someone who practices magic, whether it be simple things like jar spells or folk magic or traditional witchcraft or anything ceremonial or ritualistic (although some ceremonial magic practitioners prefer the term magician over witch, which is up to them). A diviner is someone who uses divination tools such as tarot or pendulums to seek knowledge (and again, you can be a diviner without ever touching witchcraft). Spirit work and hedge work is also another area for you to look into.

You can be a pagan - lighting incense, praying and making offerings - without being a witch either. Some say there is inherent magic in worship, but personally, if you just worship but don’t practice witchcraft (do spells etc) then you’re just a follower of a pagan religion. And there is nothing wrong with that. Of course, you can also be all that I mentioned above simultaneously too, but there is no hurry to quickly define yourself when you’re starting out. Changing the way you label yourself or your craft as you grow (or foregoing a label in the first place) is equally valid too.

More info on some beginner tips + my views on witchcraft below.

If you’re starting out some times I’d give are:

Learn how to protect yourself. Energy work and shielding techniques is how I started, or calling on Archangels if you believe in them. Once I was more comfortable I began learning how to use witch bottles to defend myself, how to banish (look up the LBRP) and more.

Read and read and read! Not on Tumblr but actual books (the legit ones, not the trendy money-milking ones) and historical sources. If there are contradicting sources, use your gut and your brain. Check for author bias and cross-check with other sources. Listen to your intuition yet use critical thinking and discernment too.

Record and test your divination and spells. See if a prediction comes true. Test if a spell manifest the desired result within the given time frame. If you do a wealth spell, then the spell’s success will be confirmed by increased wealth. Try altering your methods, and note if you become more successful or accurate and adapt accordingly.

Don’t be pressured to spend loads of money on your craft especially when you’re starting out. Of course, you may want to give fancy wine as an offering to your god, but if that isn’t feasible then a home cooked meal alongside traditional offerings such as bread would be alright too. Also with books, of course it is good to support occult publishers but try borrowing from libraries, find e-books and use your university account to borrow them, or find PDFs of them online.

Personally, it may not be suitable for complete beginners but I recommend books by Troy Books for witchcraft info. For learning Lenormand, the Complete Lenormand Oracle Handbook by Caitlin Matthews is the best. I know it’s 600+ pages but I swear it’s so good.

For me, witchcraft is about power. When you feel like there isn’t anywhere else to go, when your friends seem distant or unable to comprehend what you’re struggling with, when the law has failed you and corruption has won, witchcraft is a way to redirect your life and regain your sovereignty. Which is why I also believe in hexes and, in some context, curses (although I know it’s a can of worms to open and I’ll make posts on hexes and curses one day).

Divination is used to give you guidance and insight into something that may take you forever to figure out by yourself. It is also a way to communicate with the divine. What I am against though, is using divination to spy on others, as you’re essentially destroying other people’s rights to privacy. Claiming 100% accuracy is also an act of hubris, which is why I always say that my readings are reasonably accurate because in the end, free will triumphs over all and even the strings of fate has many threads.

If your relationship with a deity is rooted in transaction, then it can be said that you are working with them, not worshiping or devoting yourself to them. A devotional pagan relationship between oneself and one’s deity can be transactional too (eg: I worship Dionysus and he helps me with giving me opportunities to grow, along with giving guidance on my path) but what is more important is the devotion - the love and bond - you have with said deity.

Where the line between witchcraft and paganism blurs is when you involve deities in your spell or divination.

When I was young I used to dismiss the incantations that the monks in my country use. However, one day I went to a ceremony where almost a hundred monks gather and pray, casting their spells in unison, and even with my initial derisive views towards conventional Buddhism I felt something that day. Now, I realize when certain words have been spoken and imbued with power and continues to be recited with fervent faith for hundreds or thousands of years, power becomes inherent in those words. The same goes for rituals and spells.

This is why a beginner who had never managed to manifest anything properly can screw up when doing ceremonial witchcraft and end up bringing misfortune into their lives. Those ceremonies are meant to be performed that way, invoking those gods, for a reason. Best case scenario when you mess up is they don’t work. Worse case is they bite you back. Same goes for spirit work and especially so regarding demon work. I was curious about the Ars Goetia in the past, and I am immensely grateful that my naive, idiotic past self had enough brains not to attempt any summoning. If you want to prove to yourself that the magical world is real, there are better ways to do so.

Do I believe the gods are literally real? That Buddha walked his first step and a lotus flower bloomed under his feet? That Dionysus wrapped a ship in vines and turned the disbelieving pirates into dolphins? I don’t think so. But I have faith in my gods the same way one can be a Christian without believing that the Earth is 9000 years old. And I believe in magic because I have felt it and observed the evidence.

Maybe it was easier for me to believe because I grew up in an animistic and spiritual country, where things like divination and spirit work is ‘normal’ (although people do fear and respect the supernatural). Making offerings to household spirits is something my family does weekly. Hell, almost every family has a mini spirit house in their property that hosts the spirit of land guardians. Going to shrines and praying to our local version of ‘dryads’ and ‘tree ghost’ is common for if you want good luck or a bargain.

Messing with corpses is now outlawed, but witch doctors in my country have been known to make consecrated oil from the corpses of women. As recent as 2012, stillborn fetus had been used in ceremonies which turn them into household spirits to bring luck - if they are pleased and fond of you. Of course, magic of these types are against the law because the actions required to perform them are illegal, but the point is, it shows that magic is very real and still believed in where I come from.

If you’re coming from a western worldview where all of this is ‘weird’ or ‘primitive’ or ‘crazy’, it might feel difficult to trust in your supernatural senses, to have faith or to find your path. But if you keep practicing and refining your skills, you’ll find that magic is something that will always draws you back to it, that it is something you cannot live without.

#about me #witchcraft #paganism #hellenic #dionysus*#tarot #lenormand #energy work #witchblr

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sitontheground · 4 years

Text

#WitchesForBLM

So, I know I don't exactly post much, if at all, but in light of recent events in the US the majority of witches on both tumblr and tik tok have decided that on Friday June 5th, we were all going to be casting spells of protection for the protesters as well as hexing and cursing the cops and the white supremacists who oppose them.

While I am not American (I'm from Canada) nor am I a person of color but I have always been one for activism and fighting for the rights of those whose voices aren't heard or are purposefully silenced. I don't post about it because I don't post much of anything at all. This platform, for me, isn't about making my voice heard but appreciating others' work and words. I also don't particularly care for speaking about my craft much because it is something I find very personal and don't much wish to have others peering in on my personal affairs.

And yet, despite my private nature and lack of desire to post about my activism, I have made the decision to share what I did during the full moon to work this cause into my craft.

For any who have questions or complaints about how I did what I did or why, my craft is my own and I just follow what feels right. If you try and do or say anything to me that I feel is in anyway attacking me and my practice I'm just going to block you. You have no place sticking your nose in my work and I'll not thank you for it.

My Full Moon BLM Support Ritual

As a preface, a lot of the ingredients and items I used were already prepared. Most by happenstance as they are things that I typically keep on hand. The only thing I didn't have in my back pocket before I began was one of the sigils I used.

I also meditated facing the south. Facing the direction of the people I wanted to protect.

Ingredients:

Charged water (I used storm water*)

Charged crystal (I used my fluorite point for the reason that it often amplifies my emotions*)

Needle

Black thread

Orange paper**

Purple paper**

Stick of charcoal (for drawing)

Sigil of protection

Sigil to hex the oppressors

Sachet of protection powder***

Music to increase emotion**** (optional, to be played during both halves of the ritual)

Note: both of the sigils that I used will be shown below

I started when I heard whispers from the witchblr community members that I follow about the full moon being used to help the protesters. That day there was a storm where I live so I was already collecting storm water, but I made sure to separate some for the specific intent of using it on the full moon.

Friday night, I gathered my ingredients and created a sigil for protecting the protesters. I am aware that the eclipse would likely have a negative effect on most protection spells, but the spell I used was one that I created and use without the power of the full moon more often than not. The power of the spell comes entirely from a sacrifice I make for it, which I will explain in more detail later.

Take the storm water, the sigil of protection and the protection powder.

Meditate on the sigil to charge it.

Take a pinch of the powder (A Pinch. You don't need more than that!!!) and sprinkle it in the water.

Swirl the water clockwise 3 times to increase the power of the powder while mixing it in (I had the water in a small Mason jar with a lid so I could swirl it in large movements to incorporate the powder properly without spilling)

Take your right index finger and dip it in the water

Drip 3 drops onto the paper with the sigil

Meditate on the sigil again, focusing on the power of the water sinking into the lines of the sigil

Drink the water with the protection powder to cast the spell

Fold the paper with the sigil on it 3 times, being careful not to rip the wet paper, and leave it in a window or outside until daylight.

Note: the protection powder tastes Bad. Really really really bad. This is why a pinch is more than enough. I usually keep something around to wash the taste out of my mouth when everything is all said and done. This time I used hibiscus water, but usually I use tea.

And that's all there is to the first part of the ritual. Really that can be done at anytime for anyone as long as you have a sigil that corresponds with them.

The next part of this was the part where I actually drew upon the power of the moon.

Take the other sigil, the needle and black thread, and the charged crystal.

Meditate with the crystal in your dominant hand and the hexing sigil in your other focusing on the power that the crystal is feeding into you and pushing it out with your intent through the sigil in order to truly focus the energy you're sending out.

Tear the paper with the sigil on it in until it is in small pieces. As you rend it apart, feel the fire of your anger and the anger of all those fighting for this cause and send it out into the world with every tear in the paper.

Using the needle and the black thread, pierce the center of every piece of the paper until they are all strung up.

Bring all of the pieces together on the string and wrap the thread around the 3 times

Tie a knot in the thread.

Wrap the thread and tie the knot 2 more times.

Cut the thread and cast away the bundle of thread and paper however you see fit (burning, burying, tossing in the trash. whatever works for you)

And that’s that on that. I began my work at midnight on the full moon and when I was finished I was exhausted. I had a headache and my hands were shaking and I just wanted to crawl into my bed so much that I almost forgot to ground myself at the end which would have made everything so much worse the next time I woke. If I were to do it again, and I probably will, I’d make sure to give myself some time in between spells, which I did not in this case. In fact, I’d suggest that if you were to attempt something similar to this you should do them completely separately. However, due to that fact that the moon was in Gemini it felt right for me to complete two spells during it.

And now onto the notes.

*In regards to my choices of charged water and crystal, I have to note that I base my practice by what feels right at the moment. I’ve gone into spells with something in my hand that, by the time I get around to using it during the casting process, it no longer feels like the right tool/ingredient to use and I have gone to find what does feel right, or at least what feels best. The use of storm water has to due with how the chaos and anger that comes from the people on the front lines of this movement feels to me like a storm overhead. They were patient and they brewed this storm for centuries, waiting for us to notice it and do something to lessen the blow that it would cause. But eventually, as all storm must, the thunder rang out and the sweeping gales of wind told everyone just what was going on. Storm water, for this particular variation of my protection spell, seemed very appropriate. I used my fluorite point because whenever I’m working a particularly emotional spell, whether it is my emotion or someone else’s, I use this crystal because it amplifies what I’m feeling and it gives that emotion power.

Also this is my fluorite point.

**As most will suspect, the colors of the paper do signify different things, but if you don’t just happen to have colored paper hanging around white paper would work too. Again this was something that I just figured felt right at the time. I used the purple paper for the protection sigil. Purple, to me, is a regal color that signifies wisdom, power and good fortune. I used the orange paper for the hexing sigil because orange is the most infuriating and aggressive color I could think of (psychologically speaking the color orange is the most likely to send a person into a fit of rage).

***Alright, so for most of the above I have been rather vague when it comes to the protection powder, but that’s because it is a recipe of my own creation that I have reliably used for a couple of years now and I’m proud of it. It was one of the first things I ever did when I started my craft and I haven’t ever felt like something that I should spread to the masses. Now, however, I don’t feel that same hesitation when it comes to giving the recipe so here it is.

1 part garlic powder

1 part cumin

2 parts cinnamon

1 park Himalayan pink salt

1 sprig of cedar, dried and crushed as small as you can make it

When I first made this recipe, I didn’t do anything with it besides mix it all together and put it in a small velvet bag that I got with an old pair of headphones. I soon learned that just mixing together a couple of spices doesn’t exactly create a protection spell and thought it a failure. right as I was about to tear the page with the recipe from my spell book, I decided to meditate on it for a while. That night, I took the little bag with the powder into both of my hands and began to meditate. When I came out of it, I realized that 4 hours had passed by and I could feel the energy from the powder in the bag. So, to make long stories short, you have to key this powder to yourself first. Since then, I have used it as a protection for others by using the same powder that I mixed a couple of years ago that has protected me for that long. I take some of that powder and, using the charged water, I key it to the other that I want to protect, and then by drinking the water I am sacrificing the strength of my protection spell in order to cast one on someone else. This is why I didn’t see an issue doing this spell during the eclipse, which I have read can be a force of undoing. I had no issue casting a hex during the eclipse because I wanted to see the undoing of those that I was trying to hex, but the protection spell will not fail because I didn’t pull on the power of the moon.

****Yes, I listen to music while I work. On the night of the full moon, I was listening to Freedom by Beyoncé ft. Kendrick Lamar on repeat during the whole shebang. When I work, I am incredibly focused, so much that even the slightest disturbance to my balance will send the whole spell crashing down at my feet. If I were to work in silence, a single pin drop could cause me to lose focus and the spell could go awry. So, usually I will put on a single song that reflects the work that I am doing. Either that or I go to ambient-mixer.com and find some background sounds that I can customize and put on for myself. I chose the particular song that I did because both artists are POC angd it sends a message that aligns with the intent of both of these spells.

Sigil of Protection

This one I created myself.

Hexing Sigil

This one I did not create myself. The wonderful ceramyn here on tumblr created it, so this is me crediting her work.

#witchcraft #witches for black lives matter #witches for blm #spells #sigil magic #sigils

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gotoveritstillloveyou · 3 years

Text

I'm just writing to let you know that I've pet Christ into my heart and all my sins are forgiven, I've been in an AA program and I'm on step 7 and I just want to make amends with you, everything was my fault, and I'm on a mission to spread love and light and I've found my true path as an empath moon child, I've found healing and now I must heal the world.

Jesus, if I actually wrote you something like that, I know that you love me enough that you would do the right thing and take me out back and shoot me.

Now just hold you're fuckin horses. I know you probably don't want to hear from me. Maybe you've even forgotten me. You probably have an idea of who I am and what kind of bullshit letter I'm about to write you. Just wrangle your ponies for a second and throw out that idea. This is not what you think it is and not what you're expecting and I am not the person that comes to mind. Just let me explain before you bail.

I know what I'm writing. So we had this thing together. "Figuring it out". We were on a mission. We were gonna figure out life, figure out ourselves and become our best happiest versions, figure each other out, and we had this big dream. It went well at first, then it really went to shit with a high fiber diet. You left forever. I accept that. I kept going. I kept working on the same mission. Not just working on my life and mission. Our mission. That thing we worked so hard on and tried so hard for. I just kept going. Again, not for me. For us.

This may seem like a stupid decision. Maybe it was, but it was my decision. It was barely a choice honestly, but I stuck with it. I kept you on my mind and I kept working on those things. I kept loving you, again not much choice in that, but I still love you. I love you more than ever honestly. Again, not your fucking problem. You owe me nothing and hold no obligation to return those feelings.

Here's the thing. I succeeded. I triumphed. I am victorious in what we set out to do. It was extremely difficult. There's one thing left. I hold all this information and discoveries in my head and all these thoughts of you and something in me is just screaming that I must write it down.

Why should you care? It is long forgotten and in the past. Look, have I bothered you at all? Have I did one single thing? You knew me for 2 years, did you ever know me to respect a law? No, that's not what's been stopping me. I haven't had anything worth saying. Now I do. This doesn't have to mean anything to you, but this is more than some love letter or some old boyfriend.

There are things you don't know that I think you should. After you left I started writing and investigation and experimenting. My main goals were to get an answer about what happened between us, to figure out what was wrong with me, and to somehow recover and get over you or to come up with something to say to you. Over the course of trying to do this I discovered some shit. I found something to say to you.

I discovered that things were not what they seemed. Never once in this letter will there be any gas lighting, any denial of what happened, any denial of facts. But I found out that there was truly something else going on. I found out that we seemed like somebody else to each other. I found some things truly paranormal and supernatural in nature.

I came to a deeper understanding of myself, you, God, and life. I began to realize that it had to happen like that. I brought it full circle. When I look back and see who we were and what we set out to do, I see that what has happened was the only way to actually achieve that. What I went through was the only way I was ever going to truly change as a person, and I'm not talking about the mean messed up guy I was back then, I'm talking about everything. I'm not talking about baby I've changed, baby things could be different. I am talking about a fundamental change from top bottom, from the tip of my nose to the bottom of my soul, everything that I ever was. The experience was nessecary to you too. What we experienced was not some good/bad failed relationship. What we experienced was God's plan. It was a psychedelic horror show.

I've began making some lofty claims, and I can promise you I have proof and explanations for what I'm saying. Give me a chance.

Again, pull the rains on your unicorn. I know what's probably going through your mind, so let me finish my intro.

I know writing you and thinking something is going to happen is absolutely futile. That's not what I'm doing. I've climbed so many mountains and died so many times. I'm not quite done with what I'm working on, I'm in a period of transition and rest, but I've got past the hard part. I am empty of any desires or any problems and things are kinda finally over with, but since the day you left, to this day, on this day more powerfully than ever, I am driven to write this. There is not much left to do, and not much going on, but these thoughts in my head are beyond important, greater than meaningful, and they are screaming to be let out, and there's only one person they could possibly be said to.

You.

I know who you are, and who I'm writing to. Through this journey I've been on I've come to a deeper understanding of you than probably anyone ever will. But I'm not living in the clouds any more. I know that the person I'm writing to is someone from the past, who has changed a lot since I last saw her. I'm writing to someone who does not want to hear from me, someone I will never ever see again. Someone who I hurt and betrayed who will never forgive me. I have absolutely not change at changing your mind, writing to you likely will even have bad consequences for me, or it might upset you to hear from me. You might have a kid now, or be with someone else, or become someone else. Maybe you're horrible now, maybe all those bad things I thought were true. Maybe you're even more amazing now, and would never let a wretch like me cross your mind. My point is, I'm not being some romantic fool. I'm writing a letter to a memory, someone who has long moved on and forgotten me, and no matter how badly I want it, someone who will never be in my life again, someone who ultimately will not give a single fuck about what I'm about to write, someone who most likely would laugh at this and share with their friends so they can all laugh at it together.

And I do have a fantastical notion of who you are, but believe me I would never let myself be dumb enough to believe and hope for it to be real, that would be suicide. But I think of a girl that truly loved me so much and tried so hard for us. I write this weird cryptic shit and think man nobody would understand this, but I realize that I used to know someone that would get it. I write this, and my other even crazier Tumblr, and think God I could never show this to anyone, and then I remember a girl I knew that showed me her fucked up Tumblr that was way worse than this on our first date. Every day I have all these thoughts and I know there's only one person that would understand, and I have this feeling in my heart that just won't quit, and then I came upon these revelations and discoveries and I know that I have to tell you them.

Hold the fuck on I'm not even done, put your Pegasus back in its hangar.

You're remembering the wrong person. You're sitting here reading this bullshit and you're thinking it's bullshit because you're thinking of someone else. You gotta let that go or you're gonna miss out on what I'm about to say. You have some really bad memories of me. I was broken. What you saw and what we experienced together was full of secrecy and illusions. You will understand if you read this whole thing. I was hidden to you. I purposely hid myself from you, I acted a certain way on purpose, I was scared of you l, I refused to give my true self to you. Beyond that, I was fundamentally broken, in more ways than you have any clue of, I was hidden from myself beyond my own control. I didn't know who I was. You were in love with me, but you weren't in love with this hidden version of me, or this broken piece of shit I was on the outside. You saw right through that, and I don't know how, but you were in love with the truest form of me, you were in love with my soul and nothing else, and despite all else. I think that's beautiful. And then you went through all that shit with the other me. That other me said and did so many things to you. Finally, just one time, read what the real me has to say.

Rein in your rhino. I'm not saying what you think I'm saying. I am not forgiven or absolved. I am not saying I'm different now so those things don't matter. I will provide no excuse, no rationalization, no justification. What I got for you are reasons, reasons I fought hard to obtain. I have a story to tell you. I will not ask you for forgiveness, I will never be able to undo what happened, nothing changes it, but there's a story you need to hear.

And just park your fucking chariot right there. I am not insane. God what a relief that would be. I know what it's like to be insane. Currently, I am the most stable, well balanced, clear thinking, and consistent I have ever been in my entire life. In fact, for a few years there, I kept thinking I figured it all out! And I would eventually get a moment of clarity, and be like damn, I've been mentally ill for the whole past 3 months and I was wrong as fuck about everything. That day refuses to come. It would be such a relief. Because what I'm about to write I know is true, and it being true is the greatest Hell I probably could've landed in.

Do you truly hate me for what I did and wish the worst for me? Then that's why you should read this. This is my punishment. I truly lived in torment for about a year after you left, so enjoy that. But then I began to figure it out. I figured out what happened. You think I'm guilty and you hate me about all the mean ways I acted? Oh, what I really did is much worse. It is entirely unknown to you, and this is my confession. I did find some peace and health through the journey after our relationship, and through working through all those memories, but then I found all the missing puzzle pieces, and I truly know what I've done, I truly know what I've missed out on, I truly know what was possible, and what it all meant, and the conclusion I've arrived on is the most painful and brain shredding thing I ever could've imagined.

I really want you to read and understand this. Just give it a chance. None of this made sense to me for so long, but I began to uncover all these hidden truths, and all this secrets, and all these connections. Despite who you are now and what you think now, we went through that together. We were together almost 2 years and lived with each other for almost a year. We felt extremely huge emotions and put in so much effort and changed our lives so much. You deserve to know the truth.

Please put aside, just temporarily, whatever you told yourself about what happened, what you told other people, what you remember happening, what you told yourself in order to move on, and what you have done since then. I know it's something from the past and that it's so pointless, but every cell in my body is screaming that you need to hear this.

Just for a minute, remember me. Remember how I just kinda appeared in your life and changed everything. Remember in what a shit place you were, both of us were? Remember how bleak and empty life was. How you were all messed up and nobody could help you? And then boom it all changed. I watched you transform. You can't deny that happened and that I helped you. I watched you go from someone near death to someone glowing like the sin. I'm sorry I was so blind to it then, but I look back and I see you trying so fucking hard and putting in so much effort, I saw that you were incredibly in love with me. Remember that feeling? Don't you remember how it all felt like it was all meant to be? It all felt like it was all clicking together and it was some big adventure. It wasn't all bad, I'm sorry I ruined most of it and it was overall boring, but remember the times we had fun? Remember triumphing over problems, and growing together? Remember when we would finish a project and it actually went well and we were happy? Remember the real me. Remember that you always had a protector, someone always looking out for you. Someone that finally could handle and understand your bullshit, someone you couldn't scare off. Someone that swept you off your feet and carried you off on an adventure.

Yeah it went really bad and turned out shit and ended. I'm not telling you to forget that. But you stuck through all that for a reason. I tried hard as fuck to get rid of you. Everything that was happening was horrible. But still you stuck around. Because I did something for you, and you were hoping it would turn around. Remember that big dream life we had and trying so hard to make it happen? Remember all the times I held your hand when you were scared, calmed you down from a panic attack, woke you up from a nightmare and soothed you back to sleep? That guy that had a million dreams and always had a cool idea or a cool something to show you. The guy that always brought you a cool rock or specimen from nature? The guy that cried like a baby when the betta fish you picked out died? I know you knew the real me, like I said you knew and loved my soul. Don't you remember how confusing it was for it to all fall apart, what a contradictory experience it turned into, this crazy push and pull of emotions, a collapse we fought so hard to stop?

Don't tell yourself it was all a mistake and a lie. It's not. Don't tell yourself your just a Pupina that had yet another bad relationship with a crazy person. That's not what happened. Forget the story as it stands. You and I were the only ones that know what really took place and what it felt like. I have explored every single memory and feeling and discovered the truth behind all of this and you deserve to know it.

What I'm about to write is complex and crazy. I've been working on figuring it out for 2 years and I've tried multiple times to write it. Just please hear me out. I never would've ever considered even writing you a single paragraph if it were not for the truth I've discovered. What happened happened, I will not change any of the facts of that or explain away a single thing that went down. But what I discovered was supernatural in nature, I found many things that were kept secret and unknown to the both of us, I found deeper meaning behind every meaning, I found all these little clues scattered throughout that led me right to where I am, I found that the things that happened were often illusory in nature and had something greater under the surface. In fact, I discovered that most things were SUPPOSED to seem exactly what they seemed like, but were actually something else. And, most of all, I found that we were supposed to break up, and that a massive wall was put between us, and that we were supposed to think exactly what we think of each other and that that big wall was supposed to be there. Please peek over the fucking wall. Don't let them blind you to this.

I'm sorry you don't get a love letter or an apology. That's in here though. You get a psychedelic psychological spiritual conspiracy theory. That's just who I am. I will address all the facts as well, the normal view of things. I will confess to everything, apologize for all the bad, admit all secrets, unveil the hidden truth, describe my punishment, explain everything, I will do it all. It's all in here. This is something I never thought I would understand, and I understand it now. I never thought I would have anything to say to you, I always had a million things to say after I left but none of them were worth it to say, but this is. Please read it.

So go ahead saddle up your pony. Ride on out of here if you want. If that's what you wanna do I have just one last thing to say. There are no words on this world that can describe how sorry I am for the bad things. There is no book of poetry that could ever describe how I feel about the good things. You owe me nothing and are under no obligation. I owe you everything. Everything I am and everything I've done, the fact that I am even alive, I owe it all to you. You have given me the greatest things that life could ever offer. I love you more than I could ever love anything, I don't care what the future brings, you will always be everything to me and I will love you beyond the day I die. I love you forever and ever. You are the best thing that ever happened to me and as far as I'm concerned you're the most amazing person that ever existed.

People do a lot of shit after a break up. You've told me about your past relationships. You have to have a way to explain it to yourself and a story to tell other people. That's not for me. I want the truth. I've been in a relationship and a breakup before, and I didn't have a books worth of shit to say about it, I told myself a story but all in all it wasn't hard to understand. With you? The most complicated thing I've ever experienced. In fact I could keep going but I must write this then stop.

I did one thing. I followed my heart. I needed answers and I wanted true answers. Looking back and sorting through everything that happened, it leads to something else, and it leads to you. I followed my heart and it leads to you. I ended my fued with God and he is pointing right at you. I remembered the things you taught me, and the good things I felt, and I just followed my heart and accepted my feelings. It was a singular and narrow path and it gave me everything I ever wanted, except you of course. Just that one simple thing I chose to do after you left, to keep loving you, changed everything about me, answered all my questions, and fixed everything that was broken. I know there is nothing I can do to change anything. Every time I write I fail to make it make sense. But what has happened and what is happening is inevitable. The truth is inevitable and you must face it. The past has passed but you must face the real truth. Whatever hate or love you have for me you must face the true me. It won't be by anything I can or will do, but it has to happen.

You can deny it all you want. You can be whoever you want to be. You can tell yourself whatever story you want about us. I know the truth. I know that it was a dark and light spiritual experience and a story of true love. I know it was supposed to happen and it was the most meaningful thing that ever happened to me. I know that I'm not even supposed to know the truth. I know what God has been up to and I know the secrets of this world. On everything I've ever loved, on all the energy I've ever possessed, I put it all into this, and I throw it at your feet. The truth will be shown. I have returned and the circle is complete. Come and see. Be not afraid.

"And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder

One of the four beasts saying,

'Come and see.' and I saw, and behold a white horse"

… There's a man goin' 'round takin' names

And he decides who to free and who to blame

Everybody won't be treated all the same

There'll be a golden ladder reachin' down

When the man comes around

… The hairs on your arm will stand up

At the terror in each sip and in each sup

Will you partake of that last offered cup

Or disappear into the potter's ground?

When the man comes around

… Hear the trumpets hear the pipers

One hundred million angels singin'

Multitudes are marchin' to the big kettledrum

Voices callin', voices cryin'

Some are born and some are dyin'

It's alpha and omega's kingdom come

And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree

The virgins are all trimming their wicks

The whirlwind is in the thorn tree

It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks

… Till armageddon no shalam, no shalom

Then the father hen will call his chickens home

The wise man will bow down before the throne

And at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns

When the man comes around

… Whoever is unjust let him be unjust still

Whoever is righteous let him be righteous still

Whoever is filthy let him be filthy still

Listen to the words long written down

When the man comes around

… Hear the trumpets hear the pipers

One hundred million angels singin'

Multitudes are marchin' to the big kettledrum

Voices callin', voices cryin'

Some are born and some are dyin'

It's alpha and omega's kingdom come

And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree

The virgins are all trimming their wicks

The whirlwind is in the thorn trees

It's hard for thee to kick against the prick

In measured hundredweight and penny pound

When the man comes around

… "And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts

And I looked, and behold a pale horse

And his name that sat on him was death, and hell followed with him"

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