#and because of mounting
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
not-poignant Ā· 8 days ago
Note
Just saw the utg excerpt and seeing flitmouse still managing to be relaxed by the mounting position, despite the ammount of traumatising events surrounding it,
It rreaaaallly cements the horror behind efnisien completely rejecting it entirely and having SUCH a visceral reaction to it
Gary wasn't lying when it was something fundamentally broken :(
Yeahhhh, I feel like how omegas - even traumatised omegas - respond to things like alpha persuasion, or being mounted etc. highlights just how profoundly Efnisien was - to the staff at Hillview - just having this radically aberrant, strange response. While they believed he was an omega, nothing made sense, and of course they couldn't predict his outcomes. When you have omegas like Flitmouse and even Nate still calming at alpha persuasion, every reaction Efnisien has is awful (far more like an alpha).
But his trauma around mounting is severe. It highlights just how much it's an act for omegas, and therefore, how much it's an act done to emasculate and harm alphas after say, a duel. It's something that almost no alphas experience these days in "humane" society, so for Efnisien to be going through it on a weekly basis was truly shocking to Gary.
I am so glad, in a way, that Gary could kind of hear the safeword, pause, and then be like 'oh no we have to stop' even if he can't articulate it in clear sentences. He was very horrified to find out what he'd been about to do, and it's a good sign of just how much those peak alpha urges take over cognitive thought in those states. Gary goes out of his way to avoid hurting Efnisien like that, unless he's in that state of mind.
That being said, I will always love Efnisien still managing to snark, in his state of sheer terror, about how the panic button's still too far away lol
15 notes Ā· View notes
fuckyeahchinesefashion Ā· 19 days ago
Text
Beauties in 1986 chinese drama Journey to the Westč„æęøøč®°
yutujingēŽ‰å…”ē²¾ jade rabbit spirit
zhizhujing蜘蛛ē²¾ spider spirit
chang'e嫦åØ„ moon goddess
jin bi bai mao shu jing金鼻ē™½ęƛ鼠ē²¾ Golden nosed white haired mouse spirit
nv er guo guo wang儳å„æ国国ēŽ‹ The Queen of Women's KingdomĀ 
263 notes Ā· View notes
felsicveins Ā· 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Animus
841 notes Ā· View notes
jonsnowunemploymentera Ā· 4 months ago
Text
The way we discuss prophecy in fandom is genuinely fascinating. GRRM spends so much time showing how different characters have different interpretations of the same thing based on their own cultural contexts. He says that prophecy is tricky to navigate through multiple characters, showing that even the most careful practitioner can get almost everything wrong and fall victim to their own fallacies (see Mel). So tell me why the main takeaway for large parts of this fandom is ā€œprophecy stupid, it doesnā€™t matterā€. My brothers and sisters in Rā€™hllor, GRRM didnā€™t invent multiple characters (three of whom are main POVs!!) who can see the future for this to be the conclusion. This is a FANTASY series. Please Iā€™m begging, let us be serious šŸ„²
278 notes Ā· View notes
ansonmountdaily Ā· 1 year ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Star Trek: Strange New Worlds Season 1 bloopers (DVD extra features)
The cast channeling their accident-prone Captain! :D
2K notes Ā· View notes
hmtaxidermy Ā· 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Shoutout to this massive buck that had a third antler growing in
552 notes Ā· View notes
huepou Ā· 5 months ago
Text
OMG I FORGOT TO POST THIS VIDEO HERE
192 notes Ā· View notes
yabishrihere Ā· 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lord help me Iā€™ve got a problemā€¦ well, a few actually
470 notes Ā· View notes
piplupcola Ā· 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Aww is Trolls 3 trending on tumblr instead Wish? Let me bring out my tiniest violin for Disney's worst attempt at making a movie.
421 notes Ā· View notes
azu1as Ā· 6 months ago
Note
Hi, Tin! I love your writing and I have a prompt for you, if you are interested) what if Tang family is too afraid of Tang Bo leaving permanently and eloping with Cheong Myeong? So they initiate marriage negotiations with Mount Hua. It can be angst (CM is socially isolated and insecure about his position) or romantic comedy (awkward situations and protective Cheong Mun), up to you). Thank you in advance!
It was a well-established fact that the Dark Saint of the Tang Family was one of their generation's best.
So it came as no surprise when an influx of marriage proposals flooded their family's estateā€”because rumors started flying around that the Dark Saint was in search of a partner.
The Dark Saint held a reputation for being cold and ruthless. To cultivators and martial artists, he was someone they feared making into an enemy due to his sheer battle prowess and poisonous abilities. To normal civilians, he was a genius who wielded the Tang Family's techniques with cool precision and intent; to them, he was just another mysterious cultivator that they would only ever know of through gossip and stories.
However, in recent years, something shifted. His reputation among common folk was slowly altered. It started off with a supposed battle between him and the Plum Blossom Sword Saint which turned into a sudden and unexpected friendship.
Whereas in the past the Dark Saint would only go around Sichuan and closeby villages, he was now found going around different major cities and unknown ones.
He was often in the company of Mount Hua's Plum Blossom Sword Saint, who worked with him side-by-side to eradicate groups from the Demonic Cult and the occasional bandits and thieves.
For supposed Taoists, the two visited different establishments to drink alcohol and talk cheerily. It was during one of these moments that the first rumor began its spark.
"Ahhhh," The Plum Blossom Sword Saint groans in satisfaction. "That sure hits the spot!"
The Dark Saint chuckles as he tosses back his own drink. "If only I could enjoy everyday like this. Alcohol really is the best."
"What would your future wife think?" The Plum Blossom Sword Saint jokingly and dramatically shakes his head in disappointment. "To have a husband who loves alcohol more than his own wife...!"
The Dark Saint wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Trust me, I would make sure that my wife knows full-well just how much I love them."
The two of them share a silent, private conversation with just their eyes alone, that none of the other restaurant's customers could decipher, before they leave a generous tip and went on their way.
It snowballs from there.
All of a sudden gossip went around about the Dark Saint's interest in finding a wife. And so several people came to the same conclusion.
The reason why the Dark Saint is travelling around more than usual is because he's looking for a prospective wife.
Clearly, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint was there to provide moral support. How truly admirable and strong their brotherhood must be!
On the other hand, the head of the Tang Family was fully aware of their Dark Saint's single-minded interest in Mount Hua's Chung Myung.
Seeing all the stacks of letters that ranged from proposing strategic alliances and general marriage offers brought the current head of the Tang Family to a very different conclusion.
Tang Bo was trying to slowly draw himself away from their family by leaving their estate. He might be on the hunt, jumping from village to village, trying to create a dowry befitting for the hand of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint and scouting out all the best locations to settle down in.
It really wouldn't be too surprising of an idea if one day a letter turns up from the man with an intent of permanently moving to Mount Hua or some backwater village.
The Tang Family head shakes the thought of losing one of their best and genius members to one of the Ten Great Sects. If he wanted to maintain their family's reputation, he'll need to strike the first move.
And so he begins to pen a decisive letter to the Sect Leader of Mount Hua.
%%%
Chung Mun's hands tremble as reads the letter sent to him by the Tang Family.
'Who did they think they were?' He would have bit out if he had any less self-restraint. The paper crumples in his grip and he receives a questioning glance from Chung Myung who was sprawled eating mooncakes on the opposite side of his desk.
"What's got you so worked up?" The subject of the letter askswithout a care.
Chung Mun takes a deep breath. "The Tang Family wishes for you to transfer into their estate."
He refuses to say out loud the marriage proposal that came along with this request. His Chung Myung was too young! The man might be a sixty years old, but that round face, cheeks carelessly bulging with mooncakes with crumbs littered on his chin, screamed too young for marriage!
"Oh." Chung Myung nods in understanding.
Chung Mun is glad that Chung Myung agrees that this was nonsensical. To think, they thought that Chung Myung would even leave Mount Hua forā€”
"After the war is over, Tang Bo and I were planning to be roommates and travel the world a bit."
ā€”?????
"Roommates?" Chung Mun's voices comes out slightly strangled.
"Yup. It's going to be great."
"No."
"'No'?"
Chung Mun tries to run through his previous conversations with Tang Bo. He knew that the man was capable of being underhanded, but he was also well-aware that Tang Bo respected him enough to not blind-side him with something like this. Especially since it concerned Chung Myung.
...
...Oh no.
"Fuck." Chung Mun says, full of feeling as he recalls Tang Bo off-handedly asking permission to live together with Chung Myung in the future.
"...Sect Leader?"
Chung Mun had thought that was a joke! He thought Tang Bo wasn't being serious! They were talking with alcohol in their systems!
The alarmed look that crosses Chung Myung's face informed Chung Mun that the way he felt his blood drain from his face was a visible, physical reaction.
"He asked for your hand in marriage." Chung Mun says faintly. "I said yes."
Chung Myung blinked at him. "Yeah? He told me?"
Okay. Tang Bo, to his credit, hasn't been leaving Chung Myung in the dark at least.
If Chung Myung knows and isn't reacting violently that means that he isn't completely against this. Even if Chung Mun was, he had to reorganize his priorties.
And his number one would be to make sure Chung Myung was happy.
((And to make sure that the Tang Family doesn't think they can step on Chung Mun and pull his little brother away.))
"I'll have to recheck the sect's budget and my own savings to make sure we have enough for the wedding preparations..." Chung Mun mutters as he begins drafting a response to the Tang Family with what he thought were better marriage agreement conditions.
But then, a flash of dread causes Chung Mun to pause writing and leave a dark ink blot on the paper. He suspected, but he really wishes that he was wrongā€”!
"Huh?" Chung Myung gives Chung Mun a confused look. "We already got married though?"
181 notes Ā· View notes
hitlikehammers Ā· 9 months ago
Text
bring him home
rating: t ā™„ļø cw: Eddie in the Upside Down,; Steve on what he thinks is a retrieval mission for his body (it's not); Eddie Munson Lives; Kas!Eddie (ish)Ā ā™„ļø tags: established relationship, secret pre-S4 relationship, post-S4, presumed dead (Eddie), mourning and heartbreak (Steve), happy ending (because Eddie is alive, ofc), soul-deep love
forĀ @steddielovemonthĀ day twenty-four: Love is the only thing we can take with usĀ (@thefreakandthehair)
oh hey look, another day I didn't intend to write at all ā™„ļø but then @pearynice was intrigued by a stray half-baked idea and I struggle to not at least try to provide content in such instances ā™„ļø
Tumblr media
Heā€™s only thought it since,Ā since, but heā€™s actually kind of grateful no one knew. That no one could even have guessed. Theyā€™re on eggshells around him enough as it is, thinking itā€™s the loss, finally, that he couldnā€™t walk them back from, couldnā€™t recover themĀ allfrom safe if not wholly sound. They think heā€™s dealing with survivorā€™s guilt or just the general blow of a failure so immense, maybe long overdue: and thatā€™s probably part of it.
But only because itā€™s part of the bigger thing. TheĀ realĀ loss.
They would have been together nearly ten fucking months, yā€™know; the better part of a whole goddamnĀ yearĀ since that day at the mall, eyes catching and something justā€¦clicking. Like the barest whisper breathingĀ this could beĀ somethingĀ into the universe for them to catch if they wanted, and for all thatā€™s stillĀ goodĀ in the world they bothĀ wanted, beyond any kind of logic they both fuckingĀ reached.
And Steve knows heā€™s worrying everyone, knows Joyce cooks for him because sheā€™s sacred for him, knows Claudia bakes for the very same reason; he knows Robinā€™s gone back to biting her nails over him, and he hates that, heĀ hatesĀ it but, like: Steve feels like he left his soul in that hellscape with the man heā€™d wrapped up in it; knows he left his heart there, because he gave it to that same man ages ago and never ever considered taking it backā€”and heā€™s kind of just a, a shell, now, and itā€™s good that they all think Steveā€™s just fucked up over the lost, over-inflated savior complex, Rob had muttered more than once and sure, fineā€”let them think thatā€™s all it is.
It means he can plan without interference.
It means he can drive to the last oozing rift in the world with axes he found in the garage, a crowbar he grabbed at The War Zoneā€”which he knows because he found a receipt, not because he can remember going, driving, paying; he fuckingĀ canā€™tā€”a fucking tire lift that he things is better suited to trucks than his Beemer but thatā€™s why he needs it: he need to rip open the earth beneath his feet because maybe his heart died down there with the boy he loves in ways he didnā€™t know heĀ could, not until he found those reserves of feeling inside him well up for the fact ofĀ himĀ and maybe itā€™s too later for his heart, and maybe his soulā€™s locked in as a funeral shroud but godadmn itĀ allā€”
Steve needs to bring Eddieā€™s bodyĀ home.
Dropping through he fissure in the ground is second nature, like something calling him through the break and that feel right, because the Upside Down for what it is alone is somewhere Steve never wants to be, never wants to touch: but what it holdsĀ nowĀ what it stole from him and claimed and kept: Steve wants that back beside him, it doesnā€™t matter how. Cold, torn, broken,Ā goneā€”Steveā€™s already those things himself. Now heā€™s just a raw nerve, but if that nerve could go numb, could freeze for so much pain, so much abuse and hurt. He feels more for the knowledge of how much things should destroy him; he thinks his body is more of an echo chamber, a void that moves but isnā€™tā€¦thereĀ anymore.
IsĀ here, because he left the best of him, theĀ wholeĀ of him here, and heā€”it creaks in his knees when he hits the ground on the other side, shoots up his spine from the bones of him on contact; it should hurt, it should hurt but he canā€™t feel so much, and he needs to get his bearings, needs to orient, needs to figure where he is and the quickest way to Forest Hills, to where Eddieā€”
He canā€™t feelĀ shitĀ when heā€™s got a purpose, here: the first heā€™s had in weeks.
He moves to stand, gets to his feet atā€”
Itā€™s unexpected, how much heĀ feelsĀ the impact that knocks him back down, the weight that pushes him to the ground again and covers him, snarls at him, breathes hot and violent against his jaw, against his neck, and Steveā€”
Steveā€™ll die here, thatā€™s clear from the hiss above him, the way heā€™s pinned like prey, like aĀ meal, and the only thought he really has, in all honesty, is heā€™ll die here.
But he already died here, so it just feels kinda anticlimactic.
The panting against him keeps up, but itā€¦it doesnā€™t go anywhere, it doesnā€™t become other, or moreā€”thereā€™s no teeth, no clawing or biting or ripping him apart, draining him dry. He doesnā€™t think he was afraid for any of it, exactly; his heartā€™s pounding but it feels distant, other and something far from him, disconnected: not a part of his shell-self, so he thinks thatā€™s just ingrained, just an automatic response to a demo-something, probably, sizing up its meal but like, itā€™s notĀ doingĀ anything and Steve, Steve doesnā€™tā€¦heā€™s not invested, exactly, he doesnā€™t even think heĀ cares, butā€”
He squints his eyes open the barest crack where heā€™d instinctively squeezed them shut and he looks, expects the toothy petals, or even a veiny body; heĀ looksĀ andā€”
ā€œEddie?ā€
Oh, good. Heart, soul: may as well add losing his fucking mind to this place, too, third timeā€™s a goddamn charm.
Because itā€™s not Eddie, it canā€™t beā€¦it canā€™t beĀ Eddie, andā€”
Not-Eddie leans into him, presses onto him full-bodied, hips to chest, thighs spread to hold him down like heā€™s going anywhere because, becauseā€¦
SteveĀ feelsĀ that. He feels the pressure, he feels pain where this body drags against scrapes in Steveā€™s skin, he feels his heartĀ pounding, Jesus fuckingĀ Christ, that fucking hurts, but he looks at the face thatā€™s looming over him, tipped to the side like itā€™s asking a question, like itā€™s considering Steve below, and it: the bones are sharper, the skin more pale, more drawn up tight and pulledā€”the eyes areĀ red, bright like when the lighting cuts the sky, here, but everything elseā€¦
ā€œEddie, oh god,ā€ Steve doesnā€™t want to question it, Steve doesnā€™t want to keep his mind if the alternative is moments with some version of Eddie whose breath he canĀ feelĀ again, itā€™s, heā€™s;
ā€œEds,ā€ he chokes, and Eddieā€™s got him wholly pinned down, he canā€™t reach for Eddieā€™s face to cup it, to cradle it, so he lets his breath catch, his lungs hitch, lets the tears burn on their way from his eyes in streams as he twitches his fingers, stretches the tips to brush Eddieā€™s palm where he holds Steve down andā€”
Eddie stills, and his eyes narrow, andā€¦
And if Steve has to die here, again: let it be at Eddieā€™s hands. Let it be maybe for Eddieā€™sā€¦benefit, heā€™s wellbeing, however he survives here. Let it be for Eddie.
Always for Eddie.
But then Eddie: Eddie doesnā€™t let him up, still lean into Steve from the middle, butā€”he buries his head at Steveā€™s neck, and breathes in so deep, Steve gets to close his eyes and soak in the feeling of his chest rising into Steveā€™s own: strong.
Real.
ā€œKnown,ā€ Eddie murmurs, shakes his head like heā€™s trying to shoo a fly, but then a shiver trembles through the whole of him, Steve can trace its trajectory where Eddieā€™s held against him, and then Eddie growlsā€”itā€™s not a wholly new sound but itā€™s deeper, more animal in it than Steveā€™s ever heard and then he bites out through bared teeth: ā€œKnown.ā€
Then he draws back from Steveā€™s neck, studies him shrewdly, a little hesitant, like heā€™s unsure of whateverā€™s happening to him, in him: then he nods, chews at his lower lip in a painfully familiar move before his hands leave Steveā€™s wrists and heā€™sā€”
ā€œKnown.ā€
Heā€™s tracing Steveā€™s cheekbones, the line of his jaw; heā€™s running his nose against the slope of Steveā€™s, heā€™sā€¦itā€™s like heā€™s tracing him, and he does it so gentle, he almost like he anticipates it, heā€™sā€”
ā€œKnown,ā€ and Eddieā€™s fuckingā€¦itā€™s not a growl this time but somehow whatever it is, is deeper, stronger, and he mouths at Steveā€™s neck again but instead of breathing him in, heā€™s sucking at the lines of his arteries down the sides, up and down, and then he follows the blood to the sounds, groans at a pitch Steveā€™s never heard before but itā€™s still, itā€™s sillĀ Eddie, andā€”
ā€œHurt?ā€ Eddie mouths at his chest through the layers of his clothes, sounds mournful, stills as he considers something, intent with it before his head pops up, those red eyes so wide andĀ achingĀ as his hands tap against Steveā€™s arms, frantic andā€”
Oh.
Oh; theyā€™re tapping out Steveā€™s heartbeats to every racing clench-give echoing through his ribs and Eddie moans, almostĀ wails, thenā€”
ā€œHurt,ā€ and he looks frantic, his eyes wild, and his mouth dropped open, bereft and seeking and oh, oh: Eddie thinks his heartā€™s pounding because heā€™s hurt, because heā€™s inĀ painĀ and kinda, a little bit but not like that andā€”
ā€œNo,ā€ Steveā€™s quick to try and soothe, even if his voice is barely a rasp; ā€œno, no,ā€ and his wrists are free to he reaches, covers Eddieā€™s hands and links their fingers together, feels something in him reanimate, come straight back into being just for that touch, and that itā€™sĀ warm:
ā€œHappy,ā€ Steve gasps, and squeezes Eddieā€™s hands with force, with feeling; ā€œhappy, to seeĀ you,ā€ and he closes his eyes in something like relief when Eddieā€™s mouth stills against his chest again; sighs when Eddie nuzzles there, like he always did, like he belongs because heĀ always belongs.
ā€œSo fuckingĀ happy,ā€ Steve breathes, and he feels weightless; wonders if he died. If he hit the ground and snapped his neck. If the impact was a monster and not the love of his life, somehow saved from ruin just to save Steve back in kind.
ā€œMine,ā€ Eddie whispers, a little bit of a hiss for the feeling in it, the intensity sewn in as he mouths around the beat of Steveā€™s blood: thatā€™s what he means. Thatā€™s his, that and everything it powers, everything it lends life.
His.
He pulls back, and Steve bites back a whimper for the loss before Eddieā€™s eyes find his and he looksā€¦heĀ looks lost, then, grasping, inĀ needĀ as he almost begs, like the answer is the end of all things:
ā€œMine?ā€
He lifts one of their joined handsā€”he doesnā€™t disentangle them, and fuck if Steveā€™s ever letting goā€”but he lifts them to Steveā€™s chest and holds there, presses down and looks pointedly at the way his palm covers Steveā€™s heart, looks up in askance, up and down, there and back over and again, more desperate every time and Steve tightens his fingers around Eddieā€™s and nods, just nods because his voice is gone, his throatā€™s too tight, heā€™sā€”
But Eddie sees it. Eddie understands because Eddieā€¦
Eddie alwaysĀ understandsĀ what Steve canā€™t say.
ā€œMine,ā€ he exhales like itā€™s the answer to the universe, like itā€™s proof of god and the devil, like itā€™s more than air to breathe and Steveā€™sā€¦
Steve doesnā€™t even know what he is. Except: heā€™s alive.
He died before he left here last time, and now somehow heā€™sĀ alive. ā€œKnown, sā€™known,ā€ Eddie mutters, shakes his head slow and pins his gaze on different parts go Steveā€™s body, touches and looks up to Steve like it serves as confirmation just to meet his gaze, to watch him blink; ā€œknow, know,ā€ and Eddie bends again, mouths at his chest and inhales sharp as he rips out, almost feral: ā€œmine,ā€ and then something in him gives, and he falls to Steveā€™s chest and Steveā€™s heart skips, the terror in him tangible, but he throws out his hands, lets Eddieā€™s grasp go to hold Eddie up and Eddie panting, gasping, something has to be wrongā€”
ā€œSt,ā€ Eddieā€™s voice is sandpaper rough, butā€¦butĀ fullĀ somehow and Steve canā€™t name what it is, save that it makes him feel warm, from the inside, in a way heā€™d thought was gone forever. It prickles at his eyes and he doesnā€™t fight the tears:
ā€œSte,ā€ Eddie coughs a little, and then he looks up, brow furrowed and muscles tight as he locks his eyes on Steveā€™s and grits out:
ā€œSteve?ā€
And those eyes: those eyes meet Steveā€™s nowā€”color in them, that depthless nightshade, drenched in that deep warm chocolate shade: Steveā€™s breath catches. His heartbeat skips again, but wholly different, and it looks, itĀ feelsĀ like a weightā€™s been lifted; a spellā€™s been broken. And somehow, somehow even before anything shifted, somehow Eddie,Ā hisĀ Eddie, heā€”
Whateverā€™s happened, whateverā€™s been done to him: somehow, deeper than any of it, he kept theĀ love.
ā€œSteve.ā€
Eddieā€™s voice shakes and he drops his weight again but this time when he presses against Steve itā€™s to wrap him close, to hold him a little clumsy, a whole lot desperate, and itā€¦it feels like maybe Steveā€™s soul where itā€™s wrapped around Eddie? Like maybe he gets a little bit of it back; like maybe he can inhale and it could mean something again.
Eddie only draws back to tuck his head under Steveā€™s chin, to dip lower and put his lips to the center of Steveā€™s chest, to breathe there, like life into the heart of him again and fuck, but he feels it.
He kinda doesnā€™t need to know anything more, doesnā€™t need to have any more answers to know whatever this is, whatever Eddie needs: theyā€™ll figure it out. Eddieā€™s lips are on his chest. His heartā€™s a mallet againstĀ Eddieā€™s mouth, beats up into the warm rush of his breath: there.Ā Real.
SteveĀ feelsĀ it.
also on ao3 šŸ–¤
Tumblr media
tag list (comment to be added):Ā @pearyniceĀ @hbyrde36Ā @slashifyĀ @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson
ā™„ļø
divider creditĀ here
275 notes Ā· View notes
mythandral Ā· 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Glamtober Day 3 - Match Your Mount
Skyruin Gunblade / Rathalos Helm [M] (Soot Black & Nil) / Allegiance Coat (Nil & Dalamud Red) / Ruthenium Vambraces of Fending (Jet Black & Bone White) / Quetzalli Brais of Fending (Qiqirn Brown & Turquoise Green) / Hraesvelgr Boots (Pearl White) / Archeo Kingdom Earrings of Fending
132 notes Ā· View notes
inamindfarfaraway Ā· 10 months ago
Text
The Exorcistsā€™ Masks of Virtue
The vast majority of Exorcists in Hazbin Hotel have a notable design element that other angels donā€™t: their masks are missing an eye. Specifically, the right eye.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I believe this is a reference to the Bible, Matthew 5:29. Jesus says, ā€œIf your right eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.ā€
Heā€™s being hyperbolic. Mr Free Healthcare was not pro-mutilation. What he means is that you have to be willing to make sacrifices to prevent sin. The context of the eye metaphor is him condemning adultery and warning that even something as easy, casual and small as a look full of lustful intent can lead to further, worse sin if you donā€™t notice your sin, hold yourself accountable for it and do the work to not let it influence your decisions. This will probably be hard. It could be very, very painful. Changing your perspective can feel as horrible as plucking out your eye, so many people canā€™t bring themselves to do it. But although it wonā€™t feel that way in the moment, itā€™s healthier for our general wellbeing in the long run to abandon traits and behaviours that damage ourselves and/or others.
(You may notice that Jesusā€™s teaching that you can have sinned, redeem yourself by giving up sin and thus escape damnation is the founding principle of the Hazbin Hotel. You may also notice that it contradicts everything the Exorcists believe.)
The Exorcists seem to follow this idea of painfully excising badness for the sake of the greater good devoutly to the point of placing it above teachings like ā€˜Thou shalt not killā€™, with their job being to remove sin, in the form of sinners, to protect Heaven. Hence the missing right eyes. Theyā€™re a declaration of moral righteousness and inability to stumble.
But the truth is that the Exorcists all have their right eyes. Their flawlessness is a facade. Underneath, they are untouched, think themselves morally untouchable and, as shown by their horror and outrage when even one of them is killed, would much rather be physically untouchable too. This perfectly represents their complete unwillingness to acknowledge their own faults, let alone improve. They are never the ones who sacrifice. They force the sinners to sacrifice and donā€™t compensate it with any salvation. They metaphorically rip out the sinnersā€™ eyes, but still condemn their entire bodies as inherently, permanently sinful. So theyā€™ll just have to do another Extermination to get the other eyes! And another one to cut off their right hands! And so on until thereā€™s nothing left.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The only exception to the rule is Vaggie, both in appearance and character. Her mask has the left eye crossed out instead. Even before her expulsion, sheā€™s set apart to the audience as an Exorcist who has the capacity to, shall we say, see a different side of things. Her mask having its ā€˜sinfulā€™ right eye reflects her understanding that the Exorcist worldview is wrong.
Tumblr media
When she almost kills a demon child, her hateful vision clears. She discards the part of herself thatā€™s an unquestioning, merciless agent of death, terror and griefā€¦ and as punishment for what Lute perceives as treacherous weakness, gets her eye plucked out.
Tumblr media
Of course Lute leaves her with only the ā€˜sinfulā€™ eye. It brands Vaggie forever as the inversion, a perversion, of what the Exorcists are meant to be.
Tumblr media
You know, all this talk of eye removal in the Bible reminds me of another line - ā€˜an eye for an eyeā€™. Adam directly quotes it in ā€œHell is Foreverā€. He uses it to frame the Exterminations as Old Testament-style punitive justice; the sinners did harm and so they receive it. But putting aside the debate about how ethical the concept of revenge is, the entire point of taking an eye for an eye is that itā€™s proportional. The punishment fits the crime. If someone cuts your eye out, you shouldnā€™t murder their whole family in front of them and then slowly disembowel them to death. That would be the sin of wrath. You should just make them pay without excessive pain or collateral damage. This is the fairest form of revenge.
The Exorcists donā€™t do that! The Exterminations arenā€™t proportional to the wrongs of all they hurt, nor was Vaggieā€™s brutal punishment equivalent to her extremely mild insubordination. Lute literally takes Vaggieā€™s eye, and more, after Vaggie does nothing to her! Thatā€™s the opposite of the phrase! Adam and his soldiers are wrathful and cruel, deriving satisfaction from othersā€™ suffering. But they just canā€™t stop going on and on about how disgustingly evil the sinners are, in total hypocrisyā€¦ despite some of the sinners being far better people than the genocidal Exorcists areā€¦ itā€™s like theyā€™re obsessed with specks of dust in the sinnersā€™ eyes when they have massive logs stuck in their own. Oh hey, thatā€™s in the Bible too!
313 notes Ā· View notes
felsicveins Ā· 9 months ago
Note
can you please draw more John Julian Iā€™m craving more šŸ³ļøā€šŸŒˆšŸ„ŗšŸ™
Tumblr media
Karaoke šŸŽ¤
423 notes Ā· View notes
mistfallengw2 Ā· 7 months ago
Text
Feel free to be more specific in comments/notes if you want! If you want to elaborate further, how do you organize them? By role, species, age, alphabetical order, vibes or something else?
206 notes Ā· View notes
gummi-ships Ā· 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Kingdom Hearts 3 - Olympus
179 notes Ā· View notes