#particular domain searching
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Today I learned that many members of a particular fandom somehow never knew that Stolas, a demon prince of hell who takes the form of a long legged owl, is a concept centuries old like every other big boss demon in that fandom and I know it's never anyone's fault that they just "aren't informed" but how could you possibly not just GUESS that from absolutely all surrounding context of that setting and those characters?? Why wouldn't you just instantly instinctively realize they must be references to classical mythical demons??? Hello????
Its sad that if you search Stolas in Google images you apparently get only one image of the original famous illustration from the Ars Goetia, which is a book from before the invention of internet cartoons or in fact electricity by the way. This first known image of stolas used to be 90% of the results. What the fuck. Why wouldn't image searches always be designed to include some of the oldest versions in the very first row? It shouldn't be possible to just make up anything and push down more authentic historical context through random Internet virality.
This isn't the fault of any cartoonist or creator and I didn't make this post to complain about the existence of any particular show, especially not one now apparently known to invite a bunch of hatemail of you express any strong opinions on it, I just can't believe the degree of mythological/folkloric illiteracy I always see from modern fandoms. Half the things you love are lifted from public domain fairy tales, guys. This same kind of thing has happened with Harry Pooters and stuff as basic as BASILISKS.
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Spread 2: ✨What are Faerie?✨
TEXT: “Those of us who grew up in Ireland are no stranger to the tales of Faerie folk. The Otherworld of magic bustling right under the noses of oblivious humans, where nothing is certain and all things are possible. They are creatures made up of the raw and unbridled forces of nature, with temperaments, values, and customs incomprehensible to the likes of us humans. Faerie are just as elusive as they are unpredictable, more often than not being very well camouflaged and having the ability choose when and by whom they will be seen.
Many people who go their entire lives digging around in gardens and turning over rocks in search of them usually come back with nothing more than dirty boots and disappointment, which honestly might be best in some cases depending on the intentions of the individual. For although the rewards of the Faerie world are plentiful, the consequences of a Faerie offended are far greater.
But who am I to say anything about the people who don't take every necessary precaution when entering the domain of the Fae? I still find myself running into the forest with reckless abandon, and it was that very habit that led me directly into their path. Stupid, I know. But hey, one doesnt necessarily ever expect to be quite literally hoasted off the ground directly into the giant palm of a Faerie on her daily escape to her treehouse! Now you might argue I should’ve expected as much, considering Fae tend to be drawn in by large displays of emotion, and I was crying that time around.. To which I would counter argue that this wasnt the first time I’d ran crying into the woods, and although the idea of a possible Faerie encounter was always on the back of my mind, I still wasn’t mentally prepared. Luckily for me, that particular Fae would go on to became my closest friend, Aiden, who just so happens to be a part of the race of Fae I would come to most intimately Know.”
< (Previous spread) (Next spread) > <<(beginning)
#the crann of the fae#aiden & aiva#faeries#folklore#fantasy art#fae#illustration#my art#artists on tumblr
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Aziraphale’s wine
It is a truth universally acknowledged in the Good Omens fandom that an angel in need of a drink turns to his secret stash of Châteauneuf-du-Pape in the back room. He picked up a dozen cases in 1921, and a whole century later there's still some left… for special occasions.
Just to put things in perspective, a standard case contains 12 750ml bottles, for a total of 9 liters of wine. A dozen cases equals 144 bottles, or 108 liters of wine. That’s quite a lot for a single purchase, so Aziraphale — the established sherry and sweet drinks connoisseur — must have had a good reason for it.
One potential explanation is the aura of grandeur around this particular wine. The papal connection, rich history of the region, and recognition of high quality products give Châteauneuf-du-Pape wines a very luxurious status, considerably influencing their price tags. And Aziraphale is known to have standards.
Another one is the way in which their taste differs from Aziraphale’s usual choices: Châteauneuf-du-Pape reds are often described as earthy with gamey flavors that have hints of tar and leather. The wines are considered tough and tannic in their youth, but maintain their rich spiciness as they age.
Since everything in Good Omens has a meaning, it never hurts to run through a quick Strong’s Concordance search whenever a date pops up in a dialogue or, even more importantly, somewhere on screen. More often than not the result seems to match the researched topic, as it’s the case here:
1921: to know exactly, to recognize.
Provided examples: I come to know by directing my attention to him or it, I perceive, discern, recognize; I found out. The general usage of the word usually refers to knowing someone aptly, properly, thoroughly, even biblically. Which might be either a wishful thinking on Aziraphale’s part or just another layer of subtext in this already romantically charged scene. The table dressing, multiple candles, and focus on the lamps with Auguste Moreau’s Young Lovers statues in the background seem to successfully communicate what the angel left unsaid.
Too bad that Crowley remained so adorably oblivious for the next eighty years. At least when he finally came to the realization, he responded with an attempted temptation to another vintage red wine @vidavalor already analyzed.
But back to Aziraphale’s wine. To be exact, it’s a 1921 Châteauneuf-du-Pape from the domaine de Baban. An actual French vineyard from the Rhône region that still exists to this day, even though a few decades ago it got merged with another estate into what is now known as domaine Riché-Baban. According to the local guides, the 11 hectares on the estate are located in the Châteauneuf-du-Pape designation area in the Bois Lauzon and Mourre de Baud districts. At the moment 90% of the wines produced there are sent to wine dealers.
1920s were quite an interesting time for this region, but not because of the flapper cabarets or drag shows usually associated with the era on the Old Continent. To the horror of European oenophiles, right after World War I the whole of France found itself awash with fake wine. One of the worst outrages was the use of lead that magically transformed cheap, acid wine into something deceptively rich and sweet on the outside and one of the most powerful neurotoxins on the inside. People were already well aware of its effects — the poisoning from drinking sweetened wine probably made Handel go blind and Beethoven go deaf, but it shows how desperate for sweetness they were before sugar became available to the masses.
Admittably, it wasn’t a new practice. Far from it — the Romans liked it so much that they even advised to pack lead pans on travels to boil local wine in them to make it sweeter, especially in colder provinces like Britannia. But Aziraphale didn’t buy twelve cases of counterfeit wine for the sake of some good memories of Rome and its many health hazards. No, the fussy angel made sure to get the actually good stuff from the other side of the English Channel.
Henry Tacussel, whose name is mentioned on his wine label, was a French viticulturalist and a close friend of Baron Pierre Le Roy of the Chateau Fortia nearby, a trained lawyer and fellow winegrower from Châteauneuf-du-Pape who established the Winegrowers' Union of the Rhône Valley. Together with the Baron he became one of the founders of Appellation d'origine contrôlée (AOC), a labeling system intended to protect regional products and technologies that is still in use in France and serves as an inspiration to similar solutions worldwide. Their efforts were deliberately centred on Châteauneuf-du-Pape because with such a beguiling name even in comparison to other labels it seemed to attract an undue share of fraudsters at the time.
Soon after Aziraphale’s shopping spree, the local wine producers led by Le Roy and Tacussel began a very long campaign to establish legal protection for the wine from their commune. The delimited area and the method of wine production were finally awarded legal recognition after a decade, in 1933, but it wasn’t the end of the criminal activities on this front. An undercover investigation by The Sunday Times discovered that most of the “Châteauneuf” in the 1960s Britain was actually blended and bottled in Ipswich.
One question remains: was it a purely human affair, or maybe one requiring a demonic or angelic intervention?
#everything has a meaning#6000 years of yearning#extraordinary amounts of alcohol#châteauneuf-du-pape#aziraphale’s bookshop#aziraphale needs a hug#crowley is oblivious#ineffable husbands#good omens#good omens meta#good omens analysis#good omens props#the good omens crew is unhinged#yuri is doing her thing
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Looking for some fabulous free ebooks to load up on this winter? Go check out the catalog at Global Grey Ebooks, a huge archive of public domain texts. Search by subject, author, title, or keyword, or browse one of the pre-existing categories such as Fiction, Folklore and Mythology, History, or Poetry. I know my fellow witches will want to check out the Esotericism and the Occult section!
You can pick and choose as many titles as you want or purchase a pre-curated selection that covers a particular topic. (The zipped ebook collections make great gifts for bookworm friends from far away!) All proceeds go to supporting the continued existence of the archive, which is maintained by a single tireless worker bee. If you like what you see, please consider donating.
(Keep in mind while browsing that this is an ARCHIVE and these are OLD books. Some texts may contain material that we now know to be objectionable. I would encourage everyone to read critically and to view them as a window into the past and a marker for how far we've come.)
I've been using Global Grey Ebooks for several years now to locate and read hard-to-find ebooks on history and occultism. This is a fabulous resource for anyone with an interest in history, folklore, classical fiction, or classical literature in general.
Check out Global Grey Ebooks and start adding to your personal library today!
#library#books#gift ideas#witchcraft#witchblr#history#philosophy#fiction#ebooks#free ebooks#folklore#mythology#poetry#religion
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Flaws&All
↣ pairing: idol!yoongi x gn!reader
↣ genre: established relationship, slight angst, fluff
↣ warnings: alluding to depressive states
↣ word count: ~600
↣ song inspo: Beyoncé - Flaws and All
a/n: hello all! this one-shot is apart of my new series, 'Song Shuffle One-Shots' or SOS where I shuffle my library and write based on the song. hope you all enjoy the first installment.
You catch me when I fall.
Accept me, flaws and all.
And that’s why I love you.
Loving Yoongi has never been an easy road, but it is a road you’d happily trek down without question.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Coming into a quiet home was not often a marker for something being amiss. Usually when you got off work or back from an outing, the house would mainly be darkened, save for soft light spilling from underneath a certain door.
Yoongi’s Studio.
Tonight, however, there was no signs of him within the walls of his personal domain. The door was slightly cracked, computer off, no sounds of keyboards or groans of frustration.
Moving slowly through the dark home, you brought light with every wall you touched. Light began to flood the various rooms in search of your lover.
Living Room.
Kitchen.
Studio.
Bedroom.
Brightness revealed the bed, completely made, save for a heap of gray occupying the same side Yoongi usually sleeps on. This particular scene wouldn’t have been a cause for concern if you didn’t know Yoongi inside and out. Around this time, he would either be in his studio finishing up his latest obsession or in the living room, complaining about the show he purposefully turned on.
Head tucked under the gray throw blanket.
Feet incased in the fabric.
Yoongi was in the fetal position, so cocooned from the outside world that he didn’t register you being home, or the lights being turned on. Pulling back the blanket, you finally locked eyes with your lover. Red rimmed and tired, he passed you a soft smile, muscles slightly relaxing as he didn’t have to hold his protection taunt anymore.
“I didn’t hear you come in. I’m sorry about that”, Yoongi spoke through a puff of air.
Carding through his hair, you caught his wandering gaze.
Yoongi has bouts where he falls into himself.
Drowning in inconsistencies.
Sometimes silence is key, or maybe comforting words. Other days its soft touches and whispers of incoherent thoughts. Words jumbled together that spell out ‘I Love You’ in every language imaginable.
Tonight, you could tell he need to be grounded through touch.
“Why didn’t you call me, honey boy?”
“Didn’t wanna bother you, you know how I get”, he says as he leans into your touch. “I thought doing this might help”, he chuckles humorlessly, “I just look silly though, don’t I?”.
Shaking your head, you fully unwrap him in more ways than one. Taking in his flaws and insecurities without passing judgement, knowing they all combine to make the amazing human you know and adore.
“You know you can call me for anything”, Yoongi begins to interject, but you quickly stop his incoming ramblings, “I don’t care if you just get a papercut or you just needed me to keep you company, I’ll answer.” Yoongi’s small smile let you know he understood exactly what message you were trying to get across in a less blunt way.
“Come on, honey boy”, rising to your feet, you outstretched your hand. “Let’s go wash the day away, I’ll let you use my new scrub that you like so much.”
Yoongi giggled.
His face lights up as he takes your hand, thanking whatever powers may be for sending him an angel. No matter how many times he sits and ponders on how you continue to love him despite him lacking on days, he can’t figure out what you see. Your belief and love for him never wavers as you continuously reassure him and shows him that he is worth loving.
And that, is why he loves you.
#cocojimin#SOS#song shuffle one-shots#artist: beyonce#bts#bts imagines#bts fic#bts fluff#min yoongi#yoongi#yoongi x reader#yoongi fluff#yoongi fanfic#gn reader#idol!yoongi
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Titan History: Tiamat
Welcome once again to Monarch: After Dark, the digital gateway between you and the organisation dedicated to understanding and navigating this troubled new world we live in.
For today's communication, we find ourselves once more turning to the most recent Titan crisis, dedicating today's instalment of "Titan History" to a beast that has many people talking; the queen of the depths, Tiamat.
(Pictured above: An artistic piece depicting Tiamat on the mainland, created by former Outpost 53 operative Dope Pope)
Monarch Database File: Tiamat
Monarch Designation: Titanus Tiamat
Length: 847 feet
Weight: Unknown
Nature: Bio-Ultraviolet
Behavioural Classification: Destroyer
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Designated as "Titan 019" in Monarch's database, Tiamat was a colossal sea serpent, vibrant coloured scales and a bioluminescent frill granting her an almost hypnotising appearance as she cuts through the water. Those who studied her in Monarch Outpost 53 note her impressive ability to mimic the sounds of human voices. Though incapable of perfectly replicating speech, many of the outpost's staff recount being haunted by the sounds of her "Titansong".
The full extent of her abilities show Tiamat to be a true force of nature. She can blind opponents with a yellow phosphorus ink that manifests as a form of acidic breath, she possesses electrogenic cells that can manipulate electrical energy to such an extent that her storms can boil the ocean and generate steam trails that can be seen from space. Her underwater superiority rivals even that of Godzilla, able to generate maelstroms capable of dragging other Titans to the depths.
Prior to her final encounter with Godzilla, Tiamat was also shown to be capable of absorbing and generating massive amounts of energy through a natural radiation hotspot in the Arctic Circle, achieving an "evolved" state similar to what Godzilla would go on to gain for himself prior to engaging the Skar King and Shimo.
(Pictured above: Speculative artistic rendition of how Tiamat and Godzilla's Hollow Earth brawl in 2020 would have looked like, courtesy of Drew E. Johnson)
As is the case with most Titans on record, little is known about what Tiamat may have been doing prior to her containment by Monarch and awakening in 2019. It is known that, at some stage, Tiamat claimed a subterranean lair within the Hollow Earth as her domain, killing its previous occupant (an apparent ancestor to Kong), as well as various other Titans that attempted to rob her of what was her's. Drone exploration into this lair revealed a Titan graveyard of those likely slain by Tiamat, a Titanus Jinshin-Mushi Prime scattered among the remains was of particular note to Monarch.
At some stage, Tiamat would temporarily vacate this lair and make her way to Stone Mountain, Georgia, where she would later be contained by Monarch for further study.
Tiamat was part of the Titan legion awakened by Monster Zero in 2019, later pacified by the ORCA. Like most, she was not present for Godzilla's claim as Alpha Titan. She returned soon after to the lair she had claimed. Toward the end of 2020, Godzilla entered the Hollow Earth and, while Monarch are uncertain of the exact details, presumably fought with Tiamat over possession of the lair. As Tiamat was later observed leaving the Hollow Earth in search of a new home, it is clear Godzilla had emerged victorious.
(Pictured above: Drew E. Johnson's full-body sketch of Tiamat, part of a collection of drawing Titans he had been assigned to study)
Sometime before 2027, Tiamat would claim a natural radiation hotspot in the Arctic Circle, the largest known source on the planet, as her domain, resting within a particular glacier absorbing energy and building up her strength.
In 2027, while absorbing radiation to build his own strength for the coming conflict with the Skar King and Shimo, Godzilla hunted down Tiamat to her Arctic domain and attacked the glacier she was resting within to draw her out. Following a brief battle where both Titans seemed evenly matched, Godzilla fired a blast of atomic breath that tore through Tiamat's body and dismembered her. Godzilla then retreated into the glacier himself as Tiamat's remains floated to the surface.
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And there you go! Following news of her death, some in the public have expressed outcry over Godzilla's decision to kill her, noting that it seemed to break his pattern of only killing those who were an immediate threat to the balance of nature, and positing that Tiamat was simply keeping to herself and not being a threat.
While we cannot speculate how Godzilla truly thinks, what's done is ultimately done. Much as is the case with Scylla, this is all we can report on Tiamat unless either new findings come up or another of her species emerge.
Until next time,
Monarch: After Dark
#monarch#monarch after dark#monsterverse#godzilla x kong the new empire#gxk#gxk spoilers#tiamat#titanus tiamat#godzilla#titanus gojira#godzilla dominion#godzilla x kong spoilers
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Headcanon — Bakugou with a alpha that has a quirk like Sukuna
Notes: I thought of this idea right before going to sleep, I'm happy I didn't forget it. I only watched three episodes of jjk, so I had to search Sukuna's powers and true form, so it might be a little off, also I adapted some parts.
Warnings: possible grammar errors
»» Alpha's quirk is named "Possession", they have two forms. One which looks more human-ish, with markings spread across their upper body, an extra pair of eyes under their "normal" ones. The second form, also called their "True Form", is bigger, more muscular, and visibly stronger, it adds an extra pair of arms, the right half of their face is covered by some sort of mask and their right eyes get more vertical than before.
»» Alpha also possesses an ability called "Cursed Energy", which he can manipulate. They also have other technics such as "Dismantle" and "Clave", but also a more powerful one which drains a lot of energy, "Malevolent Shrine" in which a separate domain is created and almost everything there is under the Alpha's control, except for the people dragged in.
»» Now, I do believe that to call Bakugou's attention enough for him to even pay attention to you, you have to stand out somehow. So with this quirk, you stand out, principally if you're in the hero course.
»�� So let's say that Alpha is in the hero course, more specifically 1A. They would be at least in the top 5 students, I do believe that Bakugou is not a moronsexual, so he will prefer a more smart alpha. might not be the smartest, but smart enough.
»» Bakugou is a tsundere, and he loves to fight, so I think he would try to get Alpha to spar with him almost all the time, as a way to bond with them. But would never tell anyone, and if Alpha asks, he says that it's to prove that he is the strongest and will become number one no matter what (if he keeps winning), or that it's for him to train and become better then you and anyone in any way (if he keeps loosing).
»» If Alpha wasn't already they would become an honorary member of Bakusquad, everyone in the group would like him to participate, be because they're the only one who can calm Bakugou, or they are really fun to be around and a great friend. Either way, they would get dragged into so many shenanigans, principally by Denki and Mina.
»» After the initial phases of the courting, Bakugou would probably show off his Alpha, saying they are strong and the best alpha, and of course the best Alpha chose him because he is the best.
»» Now, when they're adults and popular pro-heroes, I believe the fans would do a lot of speculations. Considering that Bakugou is very particular about his personal life. Like he would still show off his alpha in the sense that, if anyone asks he would have no trouble saying that he is mated and that his alpha is great, but he would never dive too deep into it or talk in detail.
»» But anyway, it's hilarious to see the fan's speculations, principally the ones with more sensual connotations. Some are far from the truth and others suspiciously close. Either way, neither Bakugou nor Alpha would address them, unless it's a harmful speculation, like throwing hate or bullying.
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I was standing in Terminal 4 at JFK far away from the impatient scrum of people waiting near my gate for a Delta agent to announce it was their turn to board. As I watched passengers who’d arrived on other flights step around this pool of people buried in their phones, so desperate to be sitting on the plane instead of standing inside the airport, I thought about a review of William Gibson’s 2012 book of essays called Distrust That Particular Flavor, a book I’ve never read.
In “Distrust That Particular Flavor,” Gibson pulls off a dazzling trick. Instead of predicting the future, he finds the future all around him, mashed up with the past, and reveals our own domain to us as a science-fictional marvel…
I glanced up from the pages of this book and surveyed the street-side around me, I felt as if I were wearing Gibson-glasses. Cars lumbered past like ponderous elephants of rusty steel, not so different from the cars of 30 years ago, and seemed not to belong in the same world as the tattooed kid punching code into his laptop nearby. Under the spell of this book, I suddenly understood my surroundings not as a discrete contemporary tableau but as a hodgepodge of 1910, 1980, 2011 and 2020. -Pagan Kennedy, NY Times
I am several steps removed: I was remembering reading a review of a book published 12 years ago that was filled with writing previously published in magazines decades earlier. I could have easily downloaded a digital copy of the book on my phone and started reading the source material, but instead, I searched Google for the most pared-down version of what I wanted to remember from Gibson’s writing, that single quote that encapsulated what I was thinking at that moment:
“The future is already here – it's just not evenly distributed.”
The night before my trip, my phone buzzed and the Delta app offered a tantalizing deal: a few thousand miles to move from the 22nd row of the Main Cabin to Delta Comfort+, one row behind First Class, where I knew there was enough room to cross my legs like I’m on a park bench or extend them as if at home sitting in a recliner. I looked at my phone from my bed and moved my left leg. I felt my knee pop. I hit the button and ordered the nicer seat. “The future is now!” I thought as I rolled over, then checked my 2-3 more times that the alarm on my phone was set correctly before finally falling asleep.
I was flying to visit my family in North Carolina, where I would ride from the Charlotte airport to my parents’ house in a fully-electric SUV, stuck the whole way behind gas-powered lowrider motorcycles and one massive Ford that billowed black smoke from silver exhaust pipes sticking up like goalposts on the back of the truck’s cab. All the while, I’d see how developed the suburbs of Charlotte were becoming, whole blocks of houses and high-rises popping up like dandelions, covering what used to be open fields. I’d watch the Uber app on my phone continually update me on the status of the route, reestimating our ETA every few minutes as we sat in traffic. I would spend the ride glancing from my phone to the map on his dashboard, and wonder how we ever survived before GPS. Between the airport and our destination, we made all but 3 turns.
Before any of that happened, though, before any of the thoughts about watching the future blossom all around me while the past angrily revved its fossil-fueled engines up and down I-77, I had to survive the flight from NYC to Charlotte.
As I scanned the bright open space at JFK, I saw a freckled woman my age sitting alone covered in a yellow blanket. She appeared to be on the verge of tears. Since I was about to take my own emotionally taxing trip, one to see my sick father while his pain was still somewhat manageable, I considered asking simply if she was OK. Then I saw her take out her phone to text someone, and suddenly I couldn’t gauge if she was sad or severely hungover. I remembered that airports (outside the Midwest) aren’t for chatting up strangers. She was in her own little world and didn’t need a man’s halfhearted prying. Everyone in the airport was in sweatpants and pretending they were in their living rooms, pretending to be alone on the couch instead of sitting in a wide room with a hundred other miserable tired people. My attention turned to the black toddler in a green shirt stomping on the bright white linoleum and laughing. He was in a better mood than any adult I could see from my vantage point. His mom called him and said it was time to get on the plane.
We idled at the gate for twenty extra minutes after everyone was in their seats. I read a book on my phone and smiled to myself when I realized the plane door was closed, meaning no one else would be joining me in my row, hence the desperate offer from Delta the night before asking if I wanted a seat for much less than the price when I had originally bought the ticket. This was going to be the most comfortable flight I ever took. The only issue was that several people had left their window covers open, and the Sun was starting to heat up the cabin. A child directly behind me complained to her grandma about her discomfort, a baby cried from the back of the plane, and the toddler I had seen earlier, sitting on his mother’s lap three rows back, was wailing. The mother of the toddler was also traveling with her ailing mother who I’d seen pleasantly thanking the Delta staff earlier for bringing her to the plane in a wheelchair. They were both Southern black women wearing beige sweats from head to toe, and until this moment had spent the holding period at the gate pleading with the kid to “come on and be quiet now” and insisting to passengers around her that he usually doesn’t act this way on planes. I heard people around her say “It’s just fine” and “how old?”
A flight attendant, who I’d recently watched serve booze to everyone in First Class (why not, It’s 10:30 AM somewhere), warned over the loudspeaker that the routine demonstration on plane safety was about to begin. I always feel rude for continuing whatever I’m doing while another human being stands in the aisle showing me how not to die. Remembering to keep my seatbelt fastened during turbulence or to put my oxygen mask on before assisting others could save my life, and yet I sit there, fully ignoring the speech even as a member of the flight crew uses the plastic cover directly above my head to demonstrate how the yellow mask will flop down as we’re all screaming and crying and can’t remember our training. The flight attendant held the mask with both hands inches from my face and I kept reading. This dismissive attitude toward the safety speech is all the stranger when I remember that my biggest fear is dying in a plane crash.
I was once on a JetBlue flight that hit some rough air. I distracted myself by watching Marvel’s Iron Man 3 on the back of the seat in front of me (this was before I became a professional flyer and brought my own screens with me). There’s a scene in the movie where Tony Stark’s house is destroyed by a helicopter. Right before Stark successfully shoots down the flying assailant, the movie jumped abruptly to the next scene. JetBlue doesn’t edit anything sexy from in-flight entertainment, but they will cut anything that reminds you of your potential fiery death in a plane crash. When I noticed what had happened, I laughed to myself. How silly to think people would be scared by a Marvel movie. Then I thought, “maybe they cut those scenes because crashing is so common and they want you to forget. Why would they cut the scene if it weren’t an actual event that happens all the time?” I worked myself up over not seeing a plane crash in a movie while I was on a plane. I panicked over the absence of a frightening image. That’s how nervous I get on airplanes.Scary stuff.
We were at the step where the flight attendants walked the entire aisle with one hand sliding against the white plastic covers of the overhead compartments to make sure they were secure when the woman holding her crying toddler walked up to my 75%-empty aisle.
“I think if he had a little more room, he’d be fine,” she said to the flight attendant who already had her hands up defensively. “Can we take these empty seats if no one else is coming?”
“It wouldn’t be fair to the people who paid to upgrade.” The flight attendant shook her head as she spoke.
“Well, can I upgrade?” The woman asked.
Sternly, the flight attendant said: “It’s too late for that.”
The woman turned to go back to her seat, and in a huff said “I’m never fucking flying Delta again. Fuck this shit.” As she sat down in her seat, she claimed loudly “if I were a white woman, they’d give me that seat.”
Her mother sitting in the seat next to her backed her up: “I know that’s right.”
“Excuse me,” I said to the flight attendant, she leaned down, all teeth and painted eyebrows.
“Yes, sir?” she said.
“I’m happy to switch with her if it makes things easier.”
Before she could answer, the white grandma behind me objected “Yeah, nuh uh! - no, thank you!” Without looking in her direction, I put my hand up to block her face from my peripheral vision and thought “Adults are talking.”
I continued: “I understand not giving her a seat, but if I’m fine with it, it’s OK to swap, right?”
The flight attendant, with a smugness that reminded me of my Third Grade teacher, said “We don’t reward bad behavior.”
Read the rest here.
#lit#essays#essay#travel#fairness#writing#long post#long reads#funny#airport#sad#scary#amwriting#delta#dan wilbur#reading
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Some cosmology for the STP D&D-esque AU:
There are two gods that are pretty universally revered, the Shifting Mound and the Long Quiet. (The Narrator didn't, in-universe, intend for them to be known to the Construct's inhabitants... but things do leak through despite all intentions to the contrary.) The Shifting Mound is hailed as the goddess of growth, transformation, and death, while the Long Quiet doesn't have a domain of his own, rather standing as a counterweight to her—the pauses between her constant motion. These are the "sleeping gods," so called because, despite their widespread worship, they don't intervene in mortal affairs at all. It's thought they're currently going through a period of hibernation, but since they're so detached from the world it's hard to know for sure.
Then there are the Titans, entities with divine magic that live in a realm separate from the world. They're not exactly gods, since they didn't create any part of the world and don't really govern any aspect of it either, but they're hailed as such in communities across the world, and they can grant holy magic. Most people think that Titans and "gods" are one and the same, but in reality most Titans don't engage with the mortal world as gods.
Finally, there are demons, who are the same species as Titans, but live in a different realm. They're worshipped as gods as well, but less often, and they're generally less powerful than Titans. They, too, can grant holy magic to their followers, but fewer people are interested in this deal since demons are typically seen as more wicked. Both demons and Titans are capable of having children with mortal humanoids, but it's much rarer among Titans.
Clerical magic can be granted by either demons or Titans, or through catching a lucky break in worship of the Shifting Mound and Long Quiet. Warlock magic can also be granted by demons and Titans, as well as other, less widely-known entities. Generally speaking, if it's focused around spells the mage chooses to learn, it's clerical magic, and if it's focused around abilities the patron chooses to grant, it's warlock magic. Clerical magic usually also comes with fewer strings attached—generally the only requirement is that the cleric remains faithful to their god, while warlocks may frequently be called upon to carry out their patron's dirty work.
Titans, demons, and other entities include:
The Triad: A group consisting of the most powerful Titan, the most powerful demon, and their considerably weaker younger sister (half-sister to the Fury). The Apotheosis considers herself ruler of the Titans, the Fury considers herself ruler of the Underworld, and the Tower considers herself ruler of the mortal kingdoms. To what extent they can exert this power may vary—in particular the Tower is rarely known to mortals.
The Eye of the Needle: A middling-powerful demon who left her realm to enter the mortal world in search of opponents who were more interesting to fight than other demons. She has a half-humanoid daughter out there somewhere, but they haven't spoken since the girl was old enough to take care of herself and set off on her own. Demons don't really do "family."
The Networked Wild: An entity formed by the collective network of plants (among other aspects of nature) across the world forming a redundant brain with a capacity impossible for any mortal mind to truly comprehend. Its existence enables the existence of druids, and witches often tap into it as a source of external power. While it contains an impossible-to-determine number of minds (some of which are mortals attempting to tap into its wisdom by temporarily becoming a part of it, which rarely goes well upon separation), it is theorized that there is a single consciousness at the heart of the network, whose identity is unknown.
The Wounded Wild: A nature spirit embedded somewhere within the western woods. She was forcibly cut from the Networked Wild a long time ago, and guards her location carefully, less her assailant return to finish the job. It's theorized that magic, particularly druidic magic, would behave unusually around her because of her separation from the rest of the Wild.
The Razor: An entity just left of anything with a known classification. She's not any sort of spirit, humanoid, or semi-humanoid (which includes Titans, demons, and fey), but she is a powerful entity capable of granting a warlock pact if she finds someone interesting enough to sponsor.
The Stranger: It's only rumor, but there have recently been religious sects emerging that believe in an earthly incarnation of the Shifting Mound, insisting that she is perhaps the first true god since the sleeping gods went into hibernation. Most people regard such groups as trying to take advantage of people's loyalty to the sleeping gods.
#the Tower is an example of an average titan and the EotN is an example of an average demon#slay the princess#stp d&d au#worldbuilding#love sinking my teeth into a cosmology and magic system#speaking of which do you want to hear about the classifications and workings of magic in this AU?#because you're going to either way but it's generally polite to ask first
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• Like A Volcano | Part Two | •
Han Jisung Mini Series
© itshannjisung, 2024
♡ itsseohannbins masterlist ♡
Series Masterlist
Chapter Genre: Fluff 💕Angst⚡️Crack💥
-Bestfriends to Lovers Trope-
Summary: being best friends with the kings of kpop always has its ups and downs, and when you're offered a spot on the next European-American book tour to promote the publishing of your new book, there's one kpop king in particular who just doesn't want you to go.
Pairing: Idol!Han Jisung x Female Reader x Bestfriend Skz
** Includes two of my own original female characters, both whom are romantically involved with two of the members. Chan x Jo / Minho x Ash **
Warnings: angst. hurt. swearing. mentions of alcohol. mentions of marijuana use. implied intoxicated han jisung. harsh/vulgar language. yn's friends (jokingly) plot Han's death (i.e. homicide, staged accidental death, death by carbon monoxide, death by chloroform, premeditated murder). the boys do not use honorifics. best friend skz.
I think that's it. If I missed any, lmk!!
Word Count: 5.4k
**this chapter is unchanged**
Enjoy!
Walking out of Jisungs room that night was the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. Not only were you turning your back on your one shot with the man you’ve been in love with for years, silently breaking his and your heart in the process, but you also now had to face the reality of what the hell had just happened as you returned to the living room where your friends were.
It seemed the rest of the party stragglers had all gone home and it was just your friends left, all of them now helping clean. Changbin and Jeongin were collecting empty cans and bottles and storing them back into the original boxes for easier discarding, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Ash were sweeping and mopping the floors clean of dumped food and spilled drinks, and Chan and Jo were tackling the mass amounts of red cups that littered the room. Minho was most likely cleaning his kitchen domain, as he got pretty upset any time the kitchen turned into a mess.
Felix’s spider-senses must’ve been going off because he was at the bottom of the stairs as soon as you had appeared, staring up at you in concern. You had done your best to wipe the mascara off your face as you rushed from Jisung's room, but based on the look Felix had, you knew you hadn’t done the greatest job of hiding your sadness.
“Bunny, what’s wrong?” he asked not so quietly, causing everyone to stop what they were doing and turn to look your way. You felt heat rush to your cheeks and you tried to swallow back the lump that still sat idly in your throat.
How the hell were you supposed to explain what had just happened when you were still processing the events that had taken place in the last thirty minutes or so?
“Nothing Felix. I’m just really tired. I think I’m going to call it a night.” You settled with a tiny white lie.
Felix looked at you unconvincingly, but you paid him no mind as your eyes went searching for Jo. As soon as your eyes found hers, you sent her a look she knew all too well from the years of friendship you two had shared; one that practically screamed ‘get me the hell out of here’.
Instantly, she dropped her bag of garbage and discarded a stack of red cups onto the coffee table.
“I’ll drive you home!” She said, feigning cheerfulness. She knew something was wrong but none of the guys needed to know that. They didn’t need to know anything until the wheels of your plane left the ground the following day.
Ash, being the ever-observant friend she was, set her broom and dustpan aside and skipped over to you almost as cheerfully.
“Ou, She-Racha car ride? Count me in!”
Together, Jo and Ash gathered their things and slipped on their shoes when Minho suddenly appeared through the kitchen doorway with a half-eaten pudding cup in his hands. He glanced at his fiancée and Jo, confused as to what was going on.
“Are we going somewhere?” His gaze then landed on you and his face softened once he got a good look at you. “Y/n what’s going on? Where’s Jisung?”
Before you could open your mouth and feed Minho the same lie you told Felix, Jisung's voice echoed off the walls as he whipped his bedroom door open and shouted loudly down the hallway.
“Y/n wait!”
Upon hearing the desperation and anger in Jisung's voice, everyone’s eyes went from you to the top of the stairs where they expected Jisung to appear. You immediately hurried to the door where Jo and Ash were waiting, turning back to address Minho as you grabbed your things.
“Minho, please, do not let him come after me.”
Minho gave you a worried and confused look, but nodded nonetheless, knowing exactly what it was you needed from him. You only ever called him by his full name if it was urgent, and he picked up on that quirk of yours quickly. Ever since he and Ash had gotten together he’d become a lot more in tune with female emotions, and even though Jisung was one of his best friends, he obeyed you without hesitation.
Jisung appeared at the top of the stairs then, his hair messy as if he’d been pulling at it, his eyes angry but still drenched in tears. He saw you and immediately began descending the staircase two at a time, desperate for one last attempt to get you to stay, but Minho was quick to block his path. Without needing an explanation, Chan and Changbin instinctively jumped in and went to help as Minho struggled against Jisung's flailing figure.
Together, the three men managed to stop Jisung from reaching the bottom of the stairs while the remaining four stayed rooted in place, looking as freaked out and bewildered as anyone else in their position would’ve been.
You barely spared anyone a second glance before following Jo and Ash out of the house, slamming the door behind you.
And that was the last time you saw Jisung.
Even now, with all seven of the boys alongside Jo and Ash gathered around you at the airport to bid you one last farewell, Jisung didn’t show. You had laid awake practically all night, replaying the entire fight over and over again in your brain. A small part of you hoped against hope that he would show up despite it all and say goodbye, but he didn’t.
You knew he wouldn’t. Not after you walked out on him the way you had.
Chan was furious at Jisung’s absence. He was currently standing a little ways away from the group, his phone pressed to his ear as he angrily left yet another voice message on Jisung's answering machine.
According to the boys, after you and the girls left abruptly last night, and after the three older men fought Jisung's advances off, Jisung returned to his room as if he were a bull seeing red. He had quickly packed a bag of essentials and, before anyone could stop him, he left the house, swearing and cursing his members into hell for helping you escape.
No one had seen him since, and based on the several messages each member had left on Jisung's phone, urging him to get to the airport before you had to board your plane, they hadn’t heard from him either. Felix and Hyunjin were worried about his lack of response, but the others were just pissed off at his behavior.
“I swear to God Ji, if you don’t get to the airport in the next thirty minutes, I will personally disown you as my first child and then I’ll kick your ass. Call me back when you get this.” you heard Chan growl into his cell.
Jo was standing with you, her arms wrapped around your waist while yours slung around her shoulder in a half hug, your head resting on hers. She was smiling and laughing with Ash and the boys, but you could tell by the tension in her body that she was also listening in on Chan. No one had ever seen him this upset before, and it was unsettling for all of you.
A moment later, Chan hung up his phone again and returned to the rest of the group, scratching the back of his head in annoyance as he shoved his phone into his pocket.
“Based on the look on your face, I’m assuming he’s not coming?” Jo asked as Chan pushed his way through the circle to resume his spot behind her. He shook his head angrily, opening his mouth to begin the irate rant you all knew was coming, but Seungmin beat him to the punch, trying his best to brighten the mood with his usual level of sarcasm.
“Incredible!” he shouted as he began clapping obnoxiously, bringing everyone's attention to him. “Detective Jo has once again solved the case! The evidence was beyond us and yet, she somehow figured it out! I’m in awe.”
You watched in amusement as Jo's eyes squinted as she glared at Seungmin with a smile on her face.
“I will fuck you up, Puppy.” Jo threatened as she detached herself from your side and stepped into Chan's embrace once more. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his chin on her head, the anger in his features dissipating quickly.
Seungmin crossed his arms over his chest and flashed Jo a menacing grin. He loved being the only one brave enough to challenge Chan’s rules. Jo was off limits, but it didn’t seem to stop Seungmin from his relentless flirting. It’s like he was fueled by mischief.
“Good luck reaching me from down there, Little Miss Four-Foot Nothing.” He bantered. Jo’s eyes closed impossibly more as she tried to fight off a smirk that sat at her mouth.
“I’m 5’4, asshole.”
“Yikes. That’s still higher than your IQ, Seung.” Minho piped in, joining in on the fun. He had his arm protectively wrapped around Ash’s shoulders, but when Seungmin moved to kick him in the shin, Minho slid behind her in an attempt to hide, laughing maniacally.
“I can’t fucking stand either of you.” Seungmin hid his laugh behind an annoyed exhale.
“Then kneel, dumbass.”
“Then kneel, dumbass.”
Both Jo and Minho spoke at the same time, resulting in everyone breaking out into laughter as the two of them high-fived each other in approval.
The stress that seemed to hang in the air at Jisung's clear absence was slowly being washed away with each chuckle, and you found yourself feeling so incredibly grateful for your friends.
“Why are you guys so mean to me?” Seungmin then fake pouted. Jo reached her hand up and ruffled his fluffy hair, pushing it out of his eyes.
“Cause I’m that much closer to hell than you are, Seung.” She responded sweetly. Everyone let out another laugh at her comment while Seungmin ducked out of her reach and playfully elbowed her in the ribs.
Ever since everyone arrived at the airport merely an hour ago, minus Jisung, you felt like your heart was just minutes away from stopping. Anxiety clawed through your insides like a feral cat trapped in a cage. Whether it was because of the obvious missing presence or simply just pre-tour jitters, you weren’t sure, but you expected the uneasiness to sink its teeth into you any second now, forcing an anxiety attack from your body.
Thankfully, being surrounded by your friends, laughing and joking as if all was well helped ease some of the tightness in your chest, though only little by little.
That was until Minho’s phone began to ring noisily from his pocket, causing the tension to return to you in full force.
“Fucking finally,” Minho whispered once he caught a glance at the screen.
Everyone fell silent, the stress once again clouding the air like smoke.
“Is that him?” Felix questioned, a hopeful look in his eyes. Minho ignored him and swiped his thumb across the screen before shoving his phone to his ear.
“Jisung, where the fuck are you?”
Jisung could practically taste the fury that rolled off of Minho's tongue and into his ear. It made his chest tighten slightly, but he took a deep breath and willed himself to relax.
“I’m sorry Min. I’m not coming.”
“What do you mean you’re not coming?”
“I mean I’m not coming.”
An irritated breath left Minho’s mouth.
“Fuck off Jisung. I don’t know what the hell happened between you and y/n last night, and at this point, I don’t really care, but you need to get your ass here, now. Y/n’s plane leaves in no less than two hours. Put in your fucking tampon and come say goodbye.” Minho growled.
Jisung let out a sigh as he glanced around the hotel room he was staying in. His laptop sat open on the bed beside him, his anime currently paused. He made a point not to acknowledge the empty soju bottles that decorated the tabletop, or the bag of marijuana that sat half-opened on the nightstand beside him.
Why did his friends, his family, have to make this so difficult for him?
All he wanted to do was forget.
Forget you. Forget your name. Forget your face.
He wanted to forget the way your lips felt against his, even for that brief but magical moment you two shared; the way you whimpered and melted into his touch seconds before you ripped his heart out and stomped it into the carpet of his bedroom.
He wanted to forget all of it. The kiss you shared, the fight that ensued, the look you gave him before you slammed the front door and left.
He wanted to forget, but more than anything else, he hoped to God that when he’d wake up from his intoxicated sleep, he’d remember.
He wanted to remember the way you smiled in awe as you listened to the song he made for you, eyes full of tears as they fluttered closed as if you could feel the emotion and love he poured into each lyric. He wanted to remember the way your body automatically responded to him when he leaned in to kiss you, as if kissing him was as natural to you as breathing. He wanted to remember how absolutely beautiful you looked as you yelled at him with mascara-stained tears.
He wanted to remember it all and he wanted to forget it all.
Jisung took a second to chug back the soju from his shot glass, setting the empty soju bottle next to the others before he responded to Minho, trying to ignore the sting of his friend's words.
“I’m sorry Min.” was all he could say.
There was a second of silence before Ash’s calm and collected voice suddenly came through the phone.
“Jisung, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice soft. Jisung nearly started to cry just from how warm and concerned she sounded. She always had been like an older sister to him, and her serene and tender attitude hit him like a bucket of ice-cold water. He loved the boys so much, but listening to the dozens of harsh messages they’d left him when he didn’t show up at the airport hurt him more than he cared to admit.
“I’m sorry Ash. I can’t.” Jisung didn’t think he had any tears left in him, but his eyes began to water as if he hadn’t cried in years. “I love her too much. I can’t let her go.”
Ash let out a sigh as she stepped away from the group of eyes staring expectantly at her, trying to get some privacy when she realized Jisung was crying.
“Ji, I know what happened last night.” She reassured him with a whisper. “Y/n told me everything. And I know it’s hard saying goodbye, but I don’t want you to regret this.”
“I can’t just let her run off with another man.” he scoffed.
“Ji, you know nobody wants you two together more than we do. Chan stopped trying to set her up with other guys years ago because he knows now that you two were absolutely made for each other. We all know that. Just because she’s going on tour with Seojun doesn’t mean she isn’t going to come home to you in a year and a half. You’re the one she loves, not him. You just have to let her figure it out for herself. And she will. She’ll always come home to you.”
“I don’t think so, Ash. Not this time. I fucked up.”
Ash let out a sigh at his words, running a hand through her hair.
“Come and say goodbye and you’ll see that you haven’t.” she tried.
The other end of the line was silent for a moment and she swore she got through to him. Jisung carefully absorbed her words, and for a second, he hoped she was right. But that thought was washed away just as quickly when the image of you walking out the door without a single regret flashed through his brain, causing him to let out an unexpected sob.
“I’m sorry,” Jisung whispered, his voice defeated and tired. “I can’t. Please, please don’t be mad at me.”
Another sigh left Ash's mouth and Jisung braced himself for the words he knew would come next.
“I’m not mad at you Ji. I’m disappointed. Despite everything that happened, we’re still a family, and this isn’t how we treat our family.”
Even though he expected her answer almost word for word, it still hurt to hear her say. Being mad at him was one thing, but being disappointed in him and his actions made his heart ache impossibly more.
He spent so much time trying to make everyone around him proud of everything he did and hearing Ash say those words did nothing but knock him down a few dozen pegs on his scale of confidence.
He pushed away another round of tears and took a deep breath before responding to her.
“I’m sorry. I’m not coming.”
And that was final.
Ash sensed the certainty in his tone and let out yet another heavy sigh, the disappointment more evident now than before. As much as they respected each other and understood each other, she knew better than to try and sway his decisions. He was a stubborn man, and when his heart was set on something, it was nearly impossible to change his mind.
Oh, the irony.
“Okay, I’ll let the gang know,” she whispered.
“Thank you.” Jisung breathed a sigh of relief, thankful she gave in so easily. He hated fighting against her.
“Don’t thank me,” Ash spoke up again, her voice now firm and authoritative, just like a scolding mother. “You’re not out of the woods yet Jisung. Just because I’m saying ‘okay’ doesn’t mean I’m happy about this. You still have to face Jo whenever you decide to come home.”
He wasn’t planning on coming home any time soon, but he didn’t say it, lest he let her down even more than he already seemed to have.
“I’m sorry.” he choked out one last time.
“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”
She was right, and he knew it, but he couldn’t bring himself to contact you. He wanted so badly to call you and say goodbye, to hear your voice one last time, but he knew it would only cause him more heartbreak if he did. Even though he swore to himself the day he met you that he would do absolutely anything for you, he couldn’t bring himself to do this.
Instead, he let Ash's words hang in the air for a few moments longer before another sob escaped his throat, causing him to say goodbye and hang up.
Ash shook her head and willed herself to breathe as the dial tone rang in her eardrums.
“So?” Hyunjin prodded as she returned to the group. Everyone looked at her expectantly while she slid Minho’s phone back into the pocket of his jeans, but you already knew based on the way her shoulders slumped that her attempts to convince Jisung to come were helpless. “Is he on his way?”
Ash shook her head at Hyunjin and gave you a sad, guilty look.
“I’m sorry, Babe,” she whispered.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and plastered a smile on your face, trying to mask the hurt you felt. If anyone would’ve been able to convince him, it was her. You were thankful that she at least gave it a try. “S’okay. I didn’t really expect him to come after everything that happened. Thank you though for trying.”
“I’m gonna’ fucking kill him.” Jo then growled from beside you, her sudden outburst causing you to jump. Her eyebrows furrowed in anger as she shook her head in disgust.
“Not if I kill him first.” Changbin piped in then, his jaw clenched in disbelief at his friend's behavior. He had his phone out in front of him and he was tapping relentlessly against the screen, no doubt sending yet another message to Jisung.
“I’m gonna’ help.” I.N decided, his tongue prodding his cheeks as he tried to hold back his frustration. “Binnie and I have watched enough true crime shows to know how to get away with homicide.”
“Don't you mean homie-side” Chan laughed, earning a glare from everybody else while he chuckled at his own joke. The pause was quick before everyone began plotting again, ignoring him and his old-man puns.
“Guys,” you rubbed the bridge of your nose as Jo and the boys began organizing what you hoped was nothing more than a hypothetical crime. With Jo, there was always the possibility of it being not-so. “Can we please just forget about it? We’re supposed to be saying goodbye, not plotting a murder.”
Your friends ignored you completely.
“You’re right." Jo then continued with a nod, her eyes burning holes into the floor as you saw the wheels practically spinning wildly in her mind. "We have to make it look like an accident.”
You sent Chan a look of desperation, to which he shrugged his shoulders and gave you a helpless look in return.
“Why are you looking at me? You know I have no control over them.” He tried to hide his smile behind a pathetic cough, no doubt reveling in the fact that for once in his life, he was not at the butt end of all the jokes.
You rolled your eyes and clenched your jaw in irritation as you glared at him before attempting to calm your friends down again.
“Guys, I think we’re overreacting a bit, yeah?” you tried.
“I’m thinking Carbon Monoxide in his sleep,” Seungmin stated, nodding his head in approval. The lack of emotion on his face had the hairs on your arms standing upright.
“I’m thinking we just chloroform the little bastard,” Minho suggested, his hands up, pretending like he was holding onto someone's head while he shoved an imaginary cloth into their non-existent face.
With that, you let out another sigh, louder this time, and rubbed at your temple. You gave Chan another look and winced when you saw his amused smile growing wider.
Traitor.
Thankfully, Ash caught on to your distress and spoke up quickly on your behalf.
“Guys!”
Immediately, like little ducklings, everyone stopped talking and turned to look at her. She always stepped into the parental role when Chan couldn’t be bothered to, it was part of the platonic partnership they came up with when they were deemed as Mom and Dad of the group. The boys may not have always respected Chan, but they never failed to listen to and respect Ash.
“Can we please wait and discuss our premeditated murders until after y/n’s gone? I don’t think she wants to spend the last of her time with us being reminded of he who shall not be named.”
The boys and Jo muttered their apologies before they dove into other conversations with one another. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ Ash’s way before being roped into the conversation with them.
*****
It didn’t take long for the time to fly by. One minute you were thanking Ash for stepping in and calming the kids down, and the next, the time had come. The boys were currently held up in a heated debate about Jo and her nickname for Innie when you reluctantly glanced up at the clock.
A sigh left your mouth.
It was time to go through security and find your gate.
“Only Jo gets to call me Daddy Toast, you know that!”
“I know it, but I’ll never understand it.”
“What does that even mean anyway?”
“See Hyune. This is why you’re the leader of Paboracha.”
“It means she thinks I’m hot!”
“I do not, Innie!”
“Okay, I do not approve of this conversation anymore.”
You let out a giggle as Chan let out his signature disappointed dad sigh, a hand running down his face as the kids began arguing again. He turned to look at you, his face now pleading.
“Please don’t leave me with these idiots.”
“You’ll be fine,” you reassured him with a smirk. The smirk quickly turned into a sad smile as you let out a breath. “I have to go now.”
Chan nodded before he clapped his hands to grab everyone's attention. He received a little more resistance than Ash had, but everyone was quick to shut up and listen. “Alright you heathens, it’s time to say goodbye to Bunny.”
One by one, each of your friends stepped forward to give you one last hug goodbye. Hyunjin and Felix squished you into a HyunLix sandwich while planting friendly kisses all across your face, causing you to giggle and squeeze them against you. Changbin then impatiently pulled you from their arms and literally swept you off your feet, spinning you around easily as he crushed you with his biceps.
I.N and Minho both settled for ruffling your hair and patting your head before wrapping you in a half hug and squeezing you gently to show their affection. You were surprised to find Chan tear-free as he stepped from Jo’s side, a complete one-eighty from his drunken speech the night before. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your head, smiling proudly.
“Go kick some worldwide ass,” he whispered as he rubbed his hands up your back soothingly, no doubt trying to help ease the tension he probably felt in your shoulders. The tears that were threatening to pool in your eyes suddenly appeared at the sound of his words, and you purposely wiped your tears on the fabric of his shirt. The sigh that left Chan’s mouth at your actions was funny enough to make you laugh but not enough to stop the sudden flow of water pouring from your eyes like a faucet.
“I’m going to miss you guys so much,” you whispered back as he planted a kiss on the top of your head and then let you go.
Seungmin was last, a giant pout on his lips as he stepped into your open arms.
“Please don’t forget about us, okay?” he asked dramatically, as if you weren't set to return to his side eighteen months from now. He sulked into your embrace, willing himself not to cry. You smiled through your own tears.
“I could never forget about you, Pup.”
At that, a single tear fell down Seungmin's cheek. He quickly wiped it away with the sleeve of his oversized hoodie before flashing you a playful grin.
“I know that you’re with Seojun now and the old man gave me strict instructions not to kiss you anymore but-”
Before you could even protest, Seungmin dipped his head and kissed your cheek mischievously before folding you in his arms.
“- I don’t care what grandpa says. You know I live to break the rules, and if Seojun fucks up, I’ll break him.”
You nuzzled your face into his shoulder. Unlike Chan, Seungmin didn’t seem to mind the tears (and snot) that were staining his sweater. He just ran his hand through your messy hair and shushed you as you hiccupped.
“You’re a menace to society,” you whispered lovingly at him.
“I love you too Bunny,” Seungmin laughed before pulling away from you and holding you at arm's length. “No more crying okay? We don’t want the resident trash panda making a return before she’s due overseas.” His hands cupped your face, thumbs wiping at your cheeks softly as he bent and gave you his best smile.
You snorted at his joke and smacked him lightly, trying to pull your face from his grasp while he laughed at your reaction.
“I’m kidding Bunny. You are going to kill it out there. Seriously. You have all of us behind you. If you need us, call. Any time.”
You nodded and gave him one last tight bear hug in return before you took a deep breath and turned to face the two you were dreading saying goodbye to the most.
When you turned to the girls, the waterworks went into overdrive. Together, Ash and Jo came forward to hug you, their chins resting on each of your shoulders as your arms wrapped around them tightly.
“I’m so proud of you,” Jo whispered, hiccuping through her words.
“We’re so proud of you.” Ash corrected her, her hand running up and down your back. You gave both of them a gentle squeeze and willed yourself to stay like that for several moments as reality sunk in.
This was it.
You were really doing this.
Never in a million years did you think you’d be saying goodbye to your friends and heading out on your own tour without them, yet here you were. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous as hell, thinking about every possible thing that could go wrong and then some.
Who were you going to go to when you needed someone to proofread your next chapter if you couldn’t sneak into Ash’s or Seungmin's room and bother them? Who were you going to bribe into late-night ice cream dates when your mind turned to mush after staring at the screen all day if you couldn’t ask Changbin and Jisung? Who was going to sprawl out on the couch with you on your off days and watch K-dramas if it wasn’t Felix, I.N, or Minho? Who was going to talk trash about reality television with you if it wasn’t Hyunjin, Jo, and Chan?
Your heart felt heavy.
Jo must’ve sensed it cause her hand came up to hold the back of your head as she pulled away and looked at you, tears washing down her face.
“We’ll facetime every chance we get, okay?”
You let out an unattractive snort.
“You don’t even use Apple, Jo.”
She rolled her eyes at you.
“Binnie and I stand by what we said about Samsung being superior.”
“Superior, my ass!” Felix called out from somewhere behind her. Jo twisted her head around and gave him a glare.
“Oi. You’re lucky I love you Lixie or I’d kick you off of The Freckled Friends Baking Show and have Binnie replace your apple-loving ass.”
Felix’s lip jutted out at Jo’s threat.
“Binnie doesn’t even have freckles! You wouldn’t dare!”
Jo flipped him off with a smirk. “Watch me, bitch.”
Another round of arguing ensued then, this one about which cell phone brand was better, and you resisted the urge to join them. As much as you loved your friends and their chaotic antics, you needed to leave, no matter how badly you didn’t want to at that moment.
“I’ll keep you updated on Ji,” Ash whispered as she pulled away from you. You thanked her and finally stepped away from the group. With your carry-on in one hand and your purse in the other, you gave your friends one last nod, one last smile, one last awkward wave before you turned your back on them and headed towards the security line.
You couldn’t help but turn your head back every couple of minutes as you waited in line patiently. Every time you glanced back at your group, they were smiling and waving and cheering you on. You were surprised the lot of you hadn’t been kicked out of the airport already for causing such a commotion.
You waved again when you reached the front of the line, the security guard taking your ticket and I.D. and instructing you to unload your belongings into the bins to go through the machine, which you did.
It took you no less than a couple minutes to get through security unscathed and gather your belongings on the other side.
When you retrieved your phone from the basket you saw you had a couple unread messages from Felix. You smiled widely when you opened the messages to find Felix had sent you a handful of photos. A couple were of you heading towards the security line, while the rest of them were pictures of the group waving and blowing kisses goodbye.
You grinned and ran your hand through your hair as you stopped and glanced back up through the security gate. You had your hand raised and were bidding one final farewell to your group when a familiar figure caught your eye.
Lo and behold, standing a few feet in front of your group of friends, staring at you through the line of people was the man you were waiting for. Dressed in dark sweatpants, a darker hoodie, and a white backward cap, Han Jisung frowned at you as he waved goodbye.
Part Two is here!!!!
God, I forgot how much I adored this mini-series! Re-reading now is making me so emotional and nostalgic.
Thank you all for returning for Part Two!!!
Prepare yourselves for Part Three, cause it's a sad one!!
See you all soon!
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Taglist: @sungshineworld @collisvng @ihrtlix
If you want to be added to the taglist, lmk!!!
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#Like A Volcano#Like A Volcano Mini Series#Hannji's Mini Series#han jisung mini series#han jisung x reader#best friend skz#stray kids#han jisung fic#skz han#bff skz#LAV by Hannji
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Old Dealings
Chapter One - Sudden Discovery
<<<So, this is a canon side story to bring Skittles into Be Careful What You Wish For since her original story is inactive. I'm trying a new-for-me writing style so please, bear with me.>>>
TW: demon whumper, faerie whumper, human whumpee, degradation, pet whump, yelling, insults, human trafficking, mentions of death, mentions of torture, mentioned kidnapping
It's not often that Lord Daelan Darya of Greed is able to visit the human realm on leisure trips but that is where he finds himself today, somewhere in the Pacific Northwest, taking in the familiar scent of salty ocean air on the rooftop of his current love interest's home. The past year has been aggravating at best…he needs this vacation.
The past year had been spent searching for one particular person, one of his wards, a human he made a deal with over two decades ago…she's gone missing and not even his top trackers can find her. It's as if she's dropped off the face of the Earth, just completely vanished without a trace. So, to take his mind off things, he's come to spend some time away from Hell and his domain.
He feels hands sliding around his waist from behind as his lover wraps their arms around him, pressing their body against his back.
"Tense as always…well…I suppose less tense than you usually are."
"It's the ocean air, love. It's calmed me ever since I was a human child. Except back then, it was what is now known as the Persian Gulf." He says as he places his hands on theirs, cherishing their touch. "It was warmer, but this feels better, more calming."
"Have you ever gone back?"
"Hm? Yes…I-…I visit every now and then. It's so incredibly different than how it used to be. Still a dangerous place just…in different ways." He turns around and places his hands on their hips, pulling them in close. "Now, I seem to remember you telling me something about this new pet you've acquired but I have yet to see it. Is it shy?"
They giggle a little before standing on their tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Yeah, she's just a bit nervous around new people. She's likely been avoiding you on purpose, she doesn't mean anything by it."
"Scared of the big bad demon lord, is she?" He asks with a playful chuckle.
"Want me to go find her?" Their head tilts cutely to the side as an equally playful smile crosses their lips.
"Yes, please. You know I like to check out your new pets. Especially after that pretty angel boy." He definitely has very fond memories of playing with the magpie angel, delicious blood and the prettiest singing voice.
They then turn on their heel with a smile, prompting Daelan to cop a feel, making them squeak and giggle as they wander off to go find their newest pet.
They look everywhere for her; the kitchen, the living room, her cell in the basement, they even look for her in their room seeing as she's hidden there before. There's no sign of her. The only other place they can think of is…oh shit…the greenhouse…on the roof.
Meanwhile, back up on the roof, Daelan has started pacing with a lit cigarette, smoking while he strolls around casually. It's very well-kept, likely because of the pets. Though, a bit of movement catches his eye through the partially warped glass on the side of the greenhouse and, like the proverbial cat, his curiosity is piqued and he slowly approaches.
There's someone in there, slowly watering the plants. They seem relaxed, at peace while they go about their task. He leans in to look inside, squinting to get a better view as he takes a hit from his cigarette, his eyes then opening wide as the person inside turns around.
"There is no way, in all the rings of Hell, that I'm this lucky…" He exclaims loud enough for the one inside to hear. Her back straightens and the watering can rattles as she begins to tremble…she knows that voice.
She looks over at the man in the window and feels her knees instantly go weak. She blinks, hoping that she's seeing things. Nope…that's him. He's here. But…how did he find her? She had changed hands so many times that she was so certain that he'd never find her.
His brows furrow in anger as he drops his cigarette, squashing it with his foot while staring at his missing ward. After all this time, there she is, watering plants…owned by someone else.
"Outside, NOW!" He demands with a growl, making her trembling worse. Cowering from his anger, she obeys, setting the watering can down before exiting the greenhouse with her hands folded neatly down in front of her and her head bowed in submission and fear. She's rightfully terrified, she had volunteered to be someone else's pet and flown halfway across the world to serve him when she truly belonged to Lord Daelan. Needless to say, she's in deep shit.
He's fuming, tapping his foot as she makes her way to him, kneeling before him just as he had trained her long ago.
"Do you have ANY idea how long I've been looking for you?! Where the FUCK have you been?" Each inflection makes her cower into herself more and more, trembling like a leaf.
"I-I-…I'm so-sorry…I-"
"DID I FUCKING ASK IF YOU WERE SORRY, YOU MISERABLE LITTLE SHIT?!" He bellows, his horns manifesting from pure rage. It's at that point that she starts sobbing in fear, she's seen him turn people to ash for lesser offenses. She cannot stop herself from pressing her forehead into the cold concrete of the roof, her tears dripping on it.
His lover reaches the roof and hears his yelling, wondering why their sweet pet is on her knees, sobbing with her head against the concrete. They figure she had offended him somehow…but…how? She's so sweet, she's never broken a rule and guests love her.
Daelan hears the door to the roof close and he turns, still rather angry, not quite able to switch it off at a moment's notice.
"What is going on up here? Skittles, what happened?" They ask, so very puzzled.
Before she can even open her mouth, Daelan raises a finger to them. "This is between me and her, love. Please stay out of it."
Wrong answer.
Their blood begins to boil at being told to stay out of something pertaining to one of their pets.
"Ex-fucking-cuse me?! She is mine and you will respect my authority in my own home." They command as they march right up to him, not even caring that he's the demon lord of Greed, this is their home and they're not about to let him tell them what to do…not here.
Daelan is actually so taken aback by them storming up to him that he's speechless, staring down at them with wide eyes. By the time he's able to collect his thoughts for a reply, they are standing strong, puffing their chest out and actually looking rather intimidating.
"But she's-…" He's barely even able to start a sentence before being cut off.
"NEED I actually adhere to the court order against you?" That makes him shut his mouth tight and shake his head. He then steps aside and over towards the edge facing the harbor, forcing himself to calm down before he does something that will risk his lordship title.
They watch him step away before kneeling down with their pet, completely shifting their attitude from a moment ago as they console the crying human. They rub her back, cooing softly that she's not in trouble and that she can go downstairs and get something to eat. She sniffles as she nods and slowly stands on shaky legs before making her way downstairs.
Once she disappears down the stairs and the door closes, they stand and slowly approach their lover, wrapping their arms around his waist from behind again, prompting him to gently place his on theirs.
"Care to explain what that was all about?" They ask in a calm tone.
He sighs and deflates a bit. "She's my missing ward…the one I've been looking for all this time and she was right under my nose. How long has she been here?"
"A few weeks, I bought her from my college friend, a fetch. He didn't say where he got her, though." It takes them a moment to fully register exactly what he said about her. "Wait…hold on…she is your missing ward?"
He nods, brushing his thumb over the back of their hand, their skin is delightfully soft, good for staying calm, given the circumstances. "Yeah. She is."
They raise their eyebrows in surprise. "Holy shit…talk about a small world. Like…what are the chances of that?"
"Impossibly slim."
"Well…since she was your property to begin with, you can have her back…as much as I'll miss her. She's a very sweet and obedient pet, try to take it easy on her." They offer as they press their cheek against his back in a hug.
Shocked by their offer, he turns back around to look them in the eye. "Are you sure, love? You seemed pretty steadfast when coming to her defense."
They look up at him and smile softly. "Yes, I'm sure. I can't withhold your property from you, so I'm returning her back to her rightful owner." They take a moment to think. "However, I'll only do so if you swear to me that you won't kill her."
He looks off to the side, thinking if it's even worth taking her back at this point before finally settling on a decision. He'll take her, she needs discipline but he'll keep her alive.
"I swear to keep her alive, you have my word. Thank you for returning her to me…I can finally put this wild goose chase to rest." He leans down and gives them a tender kiss, grateful to have them in his life. They keep him honest, completely unafraid of him and his aggressive habits, totally comfortable standing up to him without backing down. He's finally met his match.
Now to just get his pet home. She may be safe from death, but her previous owners are saints by comparison…and she's had some brutal owners.
BCWYWF Taglist (since this is a parallel story):
@whumpshaped @whumper-soot @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @dragonfireridge @whumpofdory @astrowhump @batfacedliar @the-scrapegoat @livoftheparty @thebejeweledwatercat
#whump#pet whump#whumpblr#whump writing#conditioned whumpee#demon whumper#faerie whumper#human whumpee
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A place you only know
Synopsis: You watch as your Empire falls apart into ashes. But only one thing is on your mind. Your precious lover, the reason why you haven’t lost who you are yet. But the heavens gather his soul too soon. Any where he would be, you would as well. But this time it was a place they only knew.
Warnings: Cringe(?). Angst/no comfort, fem implied reader!(reader is suggested to be a princess of imperial blood), bad grammar/spelling, !not completely proofread!
A/n: this is a refined, improved version of other fix I wrote when I was starting this writing thing so I decided hey I’ve kinda improved? Let me try writing it again! So that is what we have here! With that being said(here’s the fic Heavens Promise)
Please enjoy!<3333
You ran to the burning enchanted forest at full speed. Ignoring the way that your feet hurt from being barefoot and the way the thorns tore at your dress. As you made your way over to the palace that was one your home now reduced to a giant fire. While covering your nose from all the smoke coming from the fire you frantically started searching around for a blue and sliver familiar uniform.
You tried yelling out their name hoping they would be able to hear you. Pleading that they weren’t dead just yet. Finally, you spot a glimpse of a glimmering sapphire gemstone immediately rushing towards it, jumping over the palace rubble and flaming pieces of wood from the villages nearby. Hardly anyone could tell that you were royalty by your disheveled look.
Huffing and running across the fallen trees and burning bushes as you make your way to them barely laying against a rock clutching their side. Not breathing.
please
No..
You pled to no one in particular but to yourself to ignore the creeping thoughts in your head.
Almost as if someone heard your call, your lover suddenly erupted in a unsettling cough
/name..do not grief for me please/ they said with the faintest smile on their face completely smoother by your beauty even in the state you were in. As they weakly attempted to raise their blood filled hands to your face to comfort you as they always had done.
/ I don’t wish this to be the last impressions of each other./ They grinned towards you, breath becoming more unstable by the second
You knew you couldn’t save them. But you were the goddam princess. The crown princess. From the earliest age you could remember, you were trained to one day become this empires empress. But look at you in this state. No future ruler should be sobbing on the floor, covered in blood, and clothes tattered. No ruler could display themselves in such a vulnerable state. But not in front of them. You no longer felt the heavy weight of the crown and suffocating glares from the other nobles. You had to grow up so quickly that you couldn’t savor the moment of weakness. Being a child. Being around your loved ones.
But now those memories were gone now. Burned away along with the rest of your family and nation you cared so deeply about. And now the person that got you this far, was about to leave.
/Do not be afraid my love/ they spoke with tenderness, clutching their hand on their heart
/We will be reunited once again and nothing shall stand in our path./ They said with one final breath and soon life fled out of their eyes. Slowly but surely, they were now gone. All was left was their empty body that once contained the most precious soul. Silence filled the air with the remains of the raging fire dying down due to your people coming close to you. But surrounding you felt nothing but your own domain of sorrow and grief.
You feel a burning sensation in your throat that just won’t go down no matter how hard you swallow. And a constricting feeling starts as you continue to struggle to breathe. That silence is not held any longer as a threatening scream is let into the cold air. Uncontrollable tears run down your face hitting the ground, leaving a small drop of tears that is soon joined by others rushing down.
You feel empty. But you have your soul. It was not taken by those above yet. But you lost your life. You feel hopeless and don’t bother to wipe the multiple streams of tears rolled off your cheek. Your eyes and nose starting to hurt from how hard you were sobbing. Your vision getting obscured from the tears that brimmed your eyes. You don’t stop for several more minutes.
The blurring of your vision clearing a bit now so that you could see the glistening sun hitting your eyes and various people yelling your name in the back. The lilies that gone through the blazing fires, seemed to have survived somehow. By a sorcerer or perhaps by miracle, they started to sprout once more as if to grief your lost loved one with you. As you began to recover and stand back up, you looked down onto your hand, that had been covered in blood and dirt, and stared at the ring your loved gave you as a promise. You continued to look at it and gave it a quick peak, despite how dirty it was, turned once again to your beloveds body and gave it a warmth felt smile before moving to where the voice led.
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Thanks for reading (∩｀-´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ
#xiao x reader#diluc x reader#genshin writing#genshin men#genshin x reader#writing#albedo x reader#childe imagines#childe x reader#scaramouche#scaramouche x reader#kaeya x reader#al haitam x reader#zhongli x reader#genshin kaveh#kaveh x reader#cyno x reader#thoma x reader#ayato x reader#adeptus xiao#kazuha x reader#gepard x reader#jing yuan x reader#genshin angst#aether x reader#gorou x reader#vivakitktfics
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instead of plotting a fic or writing some drabbles like a normal person I have figured out a version of Liz's story in the form of "playable" side quests so uh. have the first installment of Liz-centered BOTW quests i guess
The Lizalfos Who Learns: after completing the Reach Zora's Domain quest, you can speak to Dunma, a Zora guard, who will tell you about an unusual monster. She's not certain of what she saw, since none of the other guards have seen it and it's difficult to keep track in the chaos of a skirmish, but she thinks she's spotted a particular Electric Lizalfos that runs away instead of fighting like other Lizalfos in the Lanayru Wetlands. She even swears this monster was carrying flowers, not weapons. It’s so odd that it’s actually concerning, but she's never had time to track down this Lizalfos with everything else going on in the Domain.
It's not easy to find, but you can search the Lanayru Wetlands and spot an Electric Lizalfos with flowers tucked into its armor, even without speaking to Dunma beforehand. It's most likely to be out in the open during a Blood Moon, staring up at the sky. If you approach, it will go through the same alert animation as other monsters, but then immediately turn and run away at full speed. You can pursue it or attack it but it won't stop running until it reaches deep water to hide or you kill it, at which point it drops normal Electric Lizalfos loot. It registers as Unusual Lizalfos to the camera with its own Compendium entry:
Lizalfos are known for being smarter than other monsters, but this one acts more cowardly than conniving. It seems to like flowers, and spends a lot of time watching the moon. It runs away whenever it sees a person. With such an unusual reaction, perhaps there is more to this monster than meets the eye?
If you report back to Dunma with a picture at this point, she will wonder how this monster spends its time if it doesn't fight. She's seen it hanging around cooking pots before, but it always ran away before she could tell what it was doing. If only she was a little bit stealthier, or had some kind of disguise. Even a way to track it to tell where it runs off to would be reassuring.
You will need to either dowse for the Unusual Lizalfos with the Slate or manually find and follow it to a cooking pot. Getting close enough to observe will require enhancing your stealth or equipping Kilton's Lizalfos Mask. On new moon nights, the Lizalfos will go to the cooking pot by Soh Kofi Shrine, spending about an hour there before going through a cooking animation at midnight and producing a low-strength Sneaky Elixir. On third quarter or seven-day moon nights, the Lizalfos will go to the cooking pot by Boné Pond, spending about an hour there before going through a cooking animation at midnight and producing a medium-strength Enduring Elixir. On full moon or Blood Moon nights, the Lizalfos will go to the cooking pot due west of Wes Island, spending about an hour there before going through a cooking animation at midnight and producing a high-strength Hasty Elixir. Each time, the Lizalfos will inspect the elixir, look unhappy, and leave, giving you the option of collecting the elixir for yourself.
Once you have observed all three instances, you can report back to Dunma with an explanation of the Lizalfos's activities. She will ponder the significance of a monster trying its hand at cooking. Although it's concerning, she ultimately dismisses it as nonthreatening, since the Lizalfos didn't take and use any of the elixirs it made. If it's trying to imitate people, clearly it's doing a poor job of it. She will thank you and reward you with 50 rupees, ending this first side quest.
FIRST || next >>
#liz the lizalfos#lizalfos#link#botw#botw oc#loz#legend of zelda#zelda oc#brain’s babbles#brain's art#isekai oc#i took screencaps of specific locations in game and drew over them! that's how you know i'm dedicated#maybe someday i'll put this in fic form but for now side quests are fun#also happily retconning the totk lizal horns to be in botw yipee
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A. Z. Fell & Co. bookshop and its statues, part 2
Welcome to the second part of my insane deep dive into Aziraphale’s world of slightly outdated decor, golden-colored trinkets, and their ostentatiously Greek (especially for a representative of an originally Judeo-Christian mythology) symbolism. As a short recap, the last installment covered six pieces in the northern and central sections of the bookshop plus a plot-important medal previously displayed on one of them, but currently left with the other bibelots on the bookseller’s desk. We’ll start right there, where we previously left off.
While a lot of the bookshop action plays out in the circle between the formerly discussed statues, its office part is especially close to Aziraphale himself. As the titular Guardian of the Eastern Gate, the angel consciously spends most of his time in this small space in the Eastern part of the bookshop, confined to his desk or reading stand. This means that the decorations of this area have more personal significance and are most probably used as daily reminders for him to keep his thoughts and priorities on track as much as provide pleasant distraction from the weary eyes.
The two windowsill figures of the Art Deco dancers from S1 were replaced by a somewhat similar set of twin statues by Ernest Rancoulet called Retour des Bois (Return from the Woods). Depicting a young woman accompanied by a putto, Aphrodite and Eros, frolicking in a dance through the woods and meadows. This bucolic fantasy with Aphrodite makes some sense when we consider how Aziraphale’s personal love story started (and will presumably end) in a garden, but let’s deep deeper into its protagonists. Or protagonist, actually, because what else can be told about Love itself?
Eros as the god of Desire is usually presented in art as a handsome young man, though in some appearances he is a boy full of mischief, ever in the company of his mother. It is usually under the guidance of Aphrodite when he employs his signature bow and arrows to make mortals and immortals alike to fall in love. His role in myths is mostly complementary, as a catalyst for other mythological figures and their stories, with the notable exception being the myth of Eros and Psyche, the story of how he met and fell in love with his wife.
In short, they are the original star-crossed lovers from entirely separate worlds who meet and fall in love by divine happenstance, only to be separated by Psyche’s family. Convinced by her sisters that her husband is, in fact, a vile winged serpent, Psyche breaks his one rule and the attempt to kill the monster leads her to falling in passionate love with him. Eros flees and Psyche wanders the Earth searching for him and succumbing to a series of impossible tasks reminding of those from the Scarborough Fair ballad or the more modern fairytale about Cinderella. She ultimately fails, but is saved by the healed Eros, granted immortality and the status of his equal, after which they can properly marry with a huge wedding banquet, a real feast of the gods.
In the Christian Middle Ages, the union of Eros and Psyche started to symbolize the temptation and fall of the human soul, driven by the sexual curiosity and lust from the Love’s domain, mirroring the original sin and the expulsion from Eden.
Oh, and their Latin names? Cupid and Anima. C+A.
We’ll get back to them in a minute.
According to unnecessary but extensive research, the two mid-century table lamps standing over the desk were most probably produced in France after another unspecified 19th century sculptor like the example above, although this particular putti design can be also found in the so called Hollywood regency style of the same time period. The putto is holding onto a cornucopia, a classical antiquity symbol of plenty, which then continues to the bulb section.
The cornucopia is an easily recognizable symbol of abundance, fertility and, to lesser extant, peace and good fortune. Since the horn is phallic-shaped, but hollow at the same time, it combines intimate imagery of both male and female character at the same time, which further ties into notions of fertility. In its role as a fertility symbol, the cornucopia is also usually associated with Demeter, whose small statue is also standing on the bookshop’s counter. Which seems like a recurring theme.
I saw multiple theories about Aziraphale’s centerpiece, but somehow the truth proved to be much less significant than previously thought. This roman soldier, possibly a centurion, driving his two horses in a highly decorated chariot is made from a marble powder resin composite and takes the most visible place in the Eastern part of the bookshop even though it’s seemingly one of the newest additions to Aziraphale’s collection — its author, Lorenzo Toni, was born in 1938 and became a sculpture master by the 1970s.
At first glance, the parallel to the Marly Horses seems obvious and we could leave it basically at what was written recently on Crowley and Aziraphale’s dynamics. But here is where instead of commenting on the antique sculpture that seems to be the inspiration behind this piece or the many intricacies of Roman chariot racing I’ll do something completely unhinged — i.e., play my Greek philosophy card.
In the dialogue "Phaedrus ”, Plato presents the allegory of the chariot to explain the tripartite nature of the human soul or — you guessed it — psyche. The charioteer is the man’s Reason, the rational part that loves truth and knowledge, which should rule over the other parts of the soul through the use of logic. One of the horses, the white one, is man’s Spirit, a motivated part which seeks glory, honor, recognition and victory. The second horse, the black one, represents man’s Appetite — an ever so hungry part which desires food, drink, material wealth and physical intimacy.
And the fun part? This triad is established to analyze the madness of love. In a classical Greek context, that is not between a man and a woman, but erastes and eromenos:
The charioteer is filled with warmth and desire as he gazes into the eyes of the one he loves. The good horse is controlled by its sense of shame, but the bad horse, overcome with desire, does everything it can to go up to the boy and suggest to it the pleasures of sex. The bad horse eventually wears out its charioteer and partner, and drags them towards the boy; yet when the charioteer looks into the boy's face, his memory is carried back to the sight of the forms of beauty and self-control he had with the gods, and pulls back violently on the reins. As this occurs over and over, the bad horse eventually becomes obedient and finally dies of fright when seeing the boy's face, allowing the lover's soul to follow the boy in reverence and awe. The lover now pursues the boy. As he gets closer to his quarry, and the love is reciprocated, the opportunity for sexual contact again presents itself. If the lover and beloved surpass this desire they have won the "true Olympic Contests"; it is the perfect combination of human self-control and divine madness, and after death, their souls return to heaven.
And such a perfect combination of the motifs already introduced to us by the two Eros statues and the Head of the Victorious Athlete.
Aziraphale might be a titular Companion to Owls (or, to be precise, the companion to one particular Nite Owl), but he had also made sure to have at least one owl keeping him company. And of course, the owl of Athena (who was interestingly both a bird and a snake goddess) is an absolutely conclusion here as the universal symbol of wisdom and knowledge in the Western culture, but it can’t be that easy, right?
In the Bible, you'll find that owls often symbolize something unclean and forbidden, as well as desolation, loneliness, and destruction. This symbolic significance is pointed out in Leviticus 11:16-17 and Deuteronomy 14:11-17 where owls are mentioned among the birds not to be eaten. Owls were considered unclean most likely because they are predatory creatures who eat raw flesh with the blood still in it, and that was an even bigger food safety concern for the biblical nomads than to us today.
Owls are also among the wild predators that have long dwelled in the desert lands and abandoned ruins of Egypt and the Holy Land. Both Isaiah and Zephaniah speak of owls nesting in ruined wastelands to paint symbolic images of barrenness, emptiness, and utter desolation. In Psalm 102:3–6, the owl symbolizes the loneliness of the psalmist’s tortured heart:
For my days vanish like smoke; my bones burn like glowing embers. My heart is blighted and withered like grass; I forget to eat my food. In my distress I groan aloud and am reduced to skin and bones. I am like a desert owl, like an owl among the ruins. I lie awake; I have become like a bird alone on a roof. All day long my enemies taunt me; those who rail against me use my name as a curse. For I eat ashes as my food and mingle my drink with tears because of your great wrath, for you have taken me up and thrown me aside. My days are like the evening shadow; I wither away like grass. But you, Lord, sit enthroned forever; your renown endures through all generations.
It’s a devastating, but still beautiful piece that deals with the feeling of utter rejection, the ultimate bad breakup of the relationship between a human and their God. And this… simply didn’t happen between God and Aziraphale, not even during his Job job. The angel had always considered Her love and ineffability as a given, even when the whole Heavenly Host was against him during the Non-Apocalypse. His allegiance stayed with God, not necessarily Her angels. Which brings us yet again to the motion of Crowley as the owl.
The angel and the demon are the companions to each other's loneliness, but Aziraphale’s needs seem significantly bigger than their Arrangement that he even considered a wooden substitute protectively hovering over him 24/7. He seems to be the one who is the loneliest and most rejected.
Oh, and if you think that putting a small bronze statue of a putto with a bronze putto-shaped candleholder right behind it (visible on the filing cabinet in the bottom right corner) is already a stretch, let me show you what’s on the other side of that wall.
Just like before the bookshop fire, the famous sink in the small backroom is adorned with a perfectly kitschy white plaster sculpture of The Two Cherubs, a small part of a larger painting by Raphael (the painter, not the Archangel) titled Sistine Madonna. In the painting the Madonna, holding Christ Child and flanked by Saint Sixtus and Saint Barbara, stands on clouds before dozens of obscured putti, while two distinctive winged putti rest on their elbows beneath her. with bombastic side eyes and clearly unspoken, but very controversial thoughts about the whole scene and their role in it.
With an attitude like that, there’s no wonder that the putti have inspired some legends. According to one, the original cherubs were children of one of his models they would come in to watch. Struck by their posture, he added them to the painting exactly as he saw them. Another story says that Raphael was inspired by two street urchins looking wistfully into the window of a baker's shop.
The Germans implicitly tied this painting into a legend of their own, "Raphael's Dream." Arising in the last decades of the 18th century, the legend — which made its way into a number of stories and even a play — presents Raphael as receiving a heavenly vision that enabled him to present his divine Madonna. It is claimed the painting has stirred many viewers, and that at the sight of the canvas some were transfixed to a state of religious ecstasy akin to Stendhal Syndrome (including one of Freud's patients).
Their big, seemingly cherubic companion doesn’t seem to have a specific provenance, but what’s left of his limbs might suggest that it could be an infant Jesus as well as another putto. But honestly who knows at this point.
On the other side of the same room, right at the door leading to the big backroom, there are two lamps with Auguste Moreau’s Young Lovers, a bronze sculpture depicting a courting couple on the verge of a physical embrace, holding garlands of roses and hiding under some old vines. Which aligns perfectly with the beloved romcom trope of a rain shelter leading to sudden love realizations, as well as Crowley choosing this part of the bookshop to have a word with his angel in private and then offering his advice on anything related to human love. No wonder that the angel looked at him like that.
This statue carries with it more than one allegorical interpretation, intentional or not. Arguably the most obvious one is the myth of Eros and Psyche, one we already covered in this post. But similarly to his earlier sculpture, Eros also serves here as an allegory for nature and the return to the natural state itself. Like Adam in Eden, he's unclothed and symbolically crowned as a ruler of his domain. Psyche, enamored with his confidence, is about to take her own leap of faith as her fabric restraints fall away. One could say that she's tempted to follow him into nature, deep into the garden of love.
And with that exact thought I will leave you today, dear reader. Through this analysis we learnt many things, among them two significant facts about Aziraphale: firstly, he’s an utter and incorrigible romantic, and secondly, a hoarder. Forget Crowley’s souvenirs — the amount of this angel’s statues is something else. And it isn’t even his hyperfixation!
#yuri is doing her thing#good omens#good omens 2#go2#aziraphale#crowley#c+a#crowley needs a hug#aziraphale is a hoarder#ineffable idiots#ineffable husbands#ineffable divorcés#a. z. fell#a. z. fell & co.#aziraphale’s bookshop#bookshop statues#statues update#set design#the good omens crew is unhinged#raphael#greek mythology#bible fanfiction
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basic witch question: how can i study and research folk magic and historical witchcraft?
I've been trying to search like this: "name of country/place +folk magic" on academic article sites but I haven't found much practical stuff and sometimes I don't find anything.
thank you for your attention
Good question!
The first thing you'll want to do is set aside the idea that you're going to find overt and accurate historical descriptions of witchcraft as we define it today. VERY few people who practiced some form of folk magic would have identified themselves as witches, because up until very recently, it was something you could be arrested, fined, and executed for doing. Even just the suspicion of such was enough to cause panics and widespread paranoia. What you're most likely to find is a collection of folk beliefs ABOUT witches and witchcraft, rather than actual witchcraft practices.
There are plenty of folk magic practices that resemble things we do in modern witchcraft, but they wouldn't have been called witchcraft by the people doing them back in the day. If you nailed a cluster of broomstraw over your door or scattered eggshells in your garden, it wasn't to cast a spell - it was just The Done Thing to keep trouble out of your home and help the crops grow.
Be prepared to find a lot of Christianity blended into the practices you do find. During the Christianization of Europe, new beliefs blended with older ones and created some very interesting regional amalgamations. So you'll often find invocations of saints or the Blessed Virgin, or particular psalms or prayers included as essential parts of certain charms. (It's also worth noting that the recitation of certain prayers was a method of short-term timekeeping, since they didn't exactly have clocks or timers.)
Be prepared also to find a lot of references to the Devil and devil-worship. For several centuries, the idea of witchcraft and demonolatry (consorting with and calling upon demons for power and supernatural aid) was synonymous across much of the Western world. It's very difficult to find a mention of witches in contemporary medieval or renaissance literature that is not immediately accompanied by some mention of devils or demons or familiars. This is a record of the superstitions of the day, NOT the practices of actual witches, no matter what Margaret Murray would have us believe.
To find the folk magic practices, if you can't find them by searching the term outright, study the regional folklore of the place you're interested in. Look particularly for anything to do with healers or spirits or fairies or ghosts or local superstitions. Where you find these, you will find whatever regional protection rituals the country people used to ward off trouble from ethereal beings, and possibly references to other related practices for love or luck.
Naturally, if you go back to classical antiquity (Greeks and Romans) or further, things will look very different. It all depends on the time and place.
It's important to note that most of the books we have which document these beliefs were written during the 19th-20th century spiritualism and occult fads, and while there is an earnest effort in most of them to record things academically from good sources, they should still be taken with a grain of salt.
Here are some titles I've found useful in my studies:
British Goblins: Welsh Folk-lore, Fairy Mythology, Legends and Traditions (Sikes, 1880)
Culpeper's Complete Herbal and English Physician (Culpeper, 1850 edition)
Fairy and Folk Tales of the Irish Peasantry (Yeats, 1888)
Magic and Husbandry: The Folk-Lore of Agriculture (Burdick, 1914)
Plant Lore, Legends, and Lyrics (Folkard, 1884)
The History of Witchcraft and Demonology (Summers, 1926)
The Superstitions of Witchcraft (Williams, 1865)
You can find these and many similar titles on Project Gutenberg or Global Grey Ebooks. (And since they're in the public domain, they're free and legal to download!)
One final note - If you run into anything that mentions "folkish" traditions, bloodlines, or theosophy, put it down and walk away. That direction lies the pipeline to racist hate groups.
Hope this helps!
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request from @coffebean: Can you do umm a Sukuita one about sukuna fantasizing about yuji in a bride dress
Sukuna's never been one to fantasize. It's more of an activity reserved for those who cannot make their slightest whims a reality at the flick of their wrist; it was something the brat did a lot, but not he himself. He was more inclined towards making what he imagined in the darkest recesses of his own mind a reality when he simply saw fit to.
This was not an occasion where he could simply put his idea to reality, much to his own painful chagrin.
That doesn't mean he hasn't had... a passing whimsy. A fantastical image. This modern era has changed a lot, certainly that was so, but others had remained very much the same. He'd first gotten a glimpse of this idea from the brat's posters, some gaudy older woman far too out of his league on his dorm room walls, flashing a particular kind of staged smile (he recognized it, it was similar to the ones he was once forced into giving at events) that made her expression all the more false to anyone trained in the art of expression. He, however, was elated at the slightest.
"Oi, brat."
The sudden speaking had Yuuji jumping in surprise, and it was a little on the adorable side, if Sukuna had anything to say about it. Still, like a good vessel, he answers when prompted: "Mmn? Something you need, 'kuna?"
No, there wasn't anything he needed per say, but there were questions to be posed, fancies to be taken into consideration, and while he could search the brat's 'brain' (whatever was in the space between his ears, he certainly wasn't that optimistic) for his answers, he found it easier to lounge in the same way a lion did, surrounded by artifacts of his domain.
"That woman. What's she wearing?" he asks from his place on Yuuji's cheek, the singular protruding eye stuck on the image in his magazine. Yuuji blinks before he realizes that Sukuna's talking about the image in front of him in modern print, fully colored, beautiful in a lot of ways, even when some were lost on him.
"It's a wedding dress. You had those, right?"
"It was different than that."
"Really?"
Not that the infamous Ryomen Sukuna paid much attention to marriage ceremonies of any sort, since he was never interested in participating in one up until ... these past few months. Thus, the culture surrounding them caught the curse's attention, caused him to absorb what information he found in passing. Yuuji, too, didn't have too much of an eye out for things pertaining to a wedding in their everyday fight for survival.
"The wedding-kimonos were more ornate than that. More ... unique. These atrocities are mass manufactured, aren't they?"
"...? How'd you guess?"
"... they all look too similar to one another. Isn't the point of a wedding to be unique to all others in accordance to the tastes of the bride and groom?" the curse states with genuine disgust; how could people water down such a beautiful custom? Ah, well, it was one of the many things that the modern day watered down and diluted.
"Heh, 'kuna has some romantic ideas. Did you ever marry anybody?"
"What do you think?"
"... no? But you were famous, right? Wouldn't you have been chased after?"
It's at this point that Sukuna rolls his eyes, shaking his head inside of his domain at the very idea; he was courted many times, but it was never once returned in any regard. That was one of the problems with being all-powerful. Romance was trickier, more obtuse. "That's not to say that I was not courted, brat."
"Courted...?" Ah, right, another word long gone out of fashion, Sukuna had to watch his own language if he wanted to speak and be understood by anyone, including his own vessel.
"Others wished to romance me often. They were all foolish." Sukuna answers him easily, to which Yuuji laughs a bit.
"Yeah? I can see you turning a lot of people down. You seem more like a loner to me."
"Correct. ... have you entertained marriage?"
"Not really."
What a shame. In the Heian era, women were groomed to be brides fairly early, and it was around this time that they would have been wed away for power. Even if Yuuji had no desire yet to be by his side for an extended stay, well, safe to say Yuuji didn't get a say in the matter. He was the other half of Sukuna's rotten soul, everything he was not, tied to his littlest finger.
"Doesn't matter. Don't get any bright ideas." Sukuna pulls back, resting his knuckles against his face as he sat on the throne of bovine skulls, You're still my vessel, and you won't belong to anyone besides me anyway." ... we'll work on the wedding dress part.
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