#and because she is its greatest defender

[deathdxnces]

and! i promise i'll shut up now but she loves ionia and she's deeply connected to its spirit and ionia loves her and i'm a firm believer the land itself aided her in the battle at the placidium, but also that it's very gentle when it comes to her. soft grass, calm waters, good weather; little things, nothing that would be noticeable to others, but irelia loves ionia and she can feel her love is returned.

[lovegrowsart]

there are rly ppl that sincerely defend the treatment of katara's character post-atla like i'm sorry,,,but you will never catch me giving br/yke that much credit and benefit of the doubt lmao

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

Each Yellowjackets character’s greatest strength (and why it is also their greatest weakness)

Natalie: Empathy/Selflessness

Despite her abusive home life and edgy, intimidating exterior, Nat is one of the kindest and softest characters on the show. She has a deeper understanding of other’s trauma and pain than most due to her own experiences. Nat was the only one to show empathy towards Travis when his father died, even when he was an absolute asshole to her (and pointed a loaded gun at her!). She helped Travis cut the ring off of his dad’s finger because she knew Javi needed it. She faces her trauma and becomes a hunter to provide food for the group. When Jackie tells Travis about Bobby Farleigh and Travis breaks up with Nat as a result, Nat still helps Jackie on the night of Doomcoming. She also doesn’t hold a grudge against Travis for sleeping with Jackie and even wakes up at the crack of dawn everyday for months and trudges through snow for miles to help him look for Javi. She helps Lisa steal back her goldfish, defends her against her mother, and even dies for her (literally!).

This is also why her selflessness is her greatest weakness, she gives too much of herself and does not believe she herself is worth the care she gives to others, resulting in self-destructive tendencies. Her one act of selfishness (letting Javi die in her place) completely destroys her. Her empathy results in intense guilt and shame when she has to hurt others in the Wilderness, resulting in her spiraling into a life of drugs in order to cope and keeping people at arm’s length to avoid harming them.

Taissa: Ambition/Drive

Taissa is driven and successful in pretty much anything she sets her mind to. Before the crash, she’s a straight A student and an exceptional athlete. In the Wilderness, she takes the lead on leaving the plane wreck, finding the lake, and forges her own expedition to find civilization. Post-rescue, Taissa is arguably the most successful survivor. She’s a lawyer and burgeoning politician with a prestigious academic background and a picturesque family. Tai’s determination and drive for success ensures not only her survival after the plane crash but also the survival of her teammates.

However, Tai’s ambition is also one of her greatest faults. Her tunnel vision towards success can result in herself and those around her getting hurt. She accidentally breaks Allie’s leg trying to get her to improve her soccer abilities. She sets out on her expedition despite Lottie’s warnings, resulting in Van nearly getting killed. And, as an adult, she (literally) drives herself mad trying to win her political campaign, pushing her entire family away in the process. Tai is fierce and accomplished, but always at a cost.

Misty: Devotion/Loyalty

When Misty finds someone she views as her ‘person,’ she latches on and does not let go. We see this in the Wilderness with Coach Ben and Crystal; and in the adult timeline with Natalie. Misty desperately wants to be loved, and therefore she will do anything for the people she cares about, hoping that this will gain their affection. She nurses Coach Ben back to health, she shares all of her secrets with Crystal and does everything in her power to ensure that the others don’t eat her body when she dies. For Nat, she not only gets arrested trying to help her, but also snorts her cocaine to prevent her from relapsing (my favorite scene in the whole show ngl), sets up a whole interrogation with Randy, and travels to a compound in the middle of nowhere to find her after she was kidnapped.

This unconditional devotion, however, definitely comes with its flaws. Misty is obsessive about the people she loves, and this obsession often leads to people getting hurt and/or killed. She kills Jessica Roberts in order to save her fellow survivors from blackmail. She drugs Coach Ben with shrooms (and accidentally the whole team) in order to win his affection, which results in Travis nearly getting killed and Javi going missing. She intimidates Crystal off of a cliff to her death when she rejects Misty and kills Nat when she had been trying to protect her. Misty is loyal, but her loyalty results in sociopathic tendencies and the loss of the very same people she is devoting herself to.

Lottie: Spirituality/Open-Mindedness

Lottie’s spirituality and open-mindedness has been key to the group’s survival in the Wilderness. Her ability to see, hear, and sense what other’s cannot (whether you think it’s real or not) gives her teammates in the teen timeline and her cult (intentional community) members in the adult timeline hope and purpose. Without Lottie, the girls likely would have given up on survival long ago. She has an other-worldly, healing presence that those around her are naturally drawn to, and she helps a lot of people as a result.

Lottie’s spirituality can also be dangerous and even deadly, though. Her time as the Wilderness’s prophet causes the group to spiral into ritualistic sacrifices and cannibalism. In the adult timeline, her spirituality gets her locked up in a psych ward for years. Even after she has healed and moved on, Lottie’s belief in supernatural forces catches up with her again and results in her reinstating The Hunt, ultimately causing Nat’s death.

Van: Perseverance/Resilience

This poor butch goalie has almost died a ridiculous amount of times. She gets in a plane crash and is ditched by Jackie and Shauna in the wreckage, narrowly avoiding burning to death. Then, she’s nearly chopped into bits by a plane propeller. Then, she gets brutally and almost fatally mauled by a wolf. Then, she’s nearly burnt to death again on a funeral pyre (while still actively bleeding to death from the wolf attack). Then, her face is stitched up with a sewing needle by a 16 year-old (with no drugs to numb the pain). Then, her girlfriend starts losing control of herself and trying to run off of cliffs in the middle of the night so she has to regularly tie her down and keep watch of her all night. Then, she gets terminal cancer and only has a few months left to live. And that’s not even considering her life before the crash, living with an alcoholic mother that she has to take care of. Needless to say, Van has been through it. And through it all, she maintains her strength and witty sense of humor. She’s a light out in the Wilderness, keeping her team uplifted and laughing even in their worst moments (this girl is literally cracking jokes with her face torn to shreds). Her perseverance through hardship is next level.

However, this perseverance seems to have created a numbness in Van. Over time in the Wilderness, Van becomes more numb and reaction-less to the tragedy and trauma occurring around her. When the group eats Jackie, she bluntly tells Tai “we ate her” with little emotion. When they kill and eat Javi, Van tells Travis she has no regrets because she’s grateful to be alive. In the adult timeline, Van calls off the psych team for Lottie and goes through with the card ritual, knowing that this will likely result in the someone getting killed. Van is resilient and driven to survive through hardships, but her way of surviving means losing a little bit of her heart and humanity in the process.

Jackie: Influence

Before the crash, Jackie is undoubtedly a leader. She’s the Yellowjackets’ team captain and has an almost magnetic force around her that seems to captivate the whole school. She’s pretty, popular, and excels in everything she does. Shauna especially is completely caught in her orbit. When her teammates are fighting at the party, she single-handedly manages to calm them all down and help them mend their conflicts with each other.

The downside to this influence, however, is that it does not transfer to the Wilderness. High school rules don’t apply to trying to survive in the Canadian Rockies, and Jackie’s influence lies in civilization and traditional society. Jackie struggles to have the same power that she did before, and those who are more unconventional (such as Lottie and Nat) have more influence in their new living situation.

Shauna: Intensity/Passion

Shauna is completely driven by her emotions. She feels things strongly and loves people intensely. We see this first with Jackie, who Shauna has an all-consuming (pun-intended) love for. Her world revolves around Jackie, she doesn’t know where she ends and Jackie begins. In the Wilderness, this intensity of emotions translates to a ferocity that keeps her and her teammates alive. Shauna is unafraid to become the butcher of the group or to take the first bite. On the surface, Shauna appears timid, reserved, and gentle. As a teen, she’s invisible at school, hiding in Jackie’s shadow. As an adult, she’s an unassuming, soft-spoken housewife. But underneath is a darkness and fierceness that catches people by surprise and serves as her secret weapon.

The downside to Shauna’s intensity and passion, however, is that she does not have control over it. Her emotions spiral until she or someone close to her gets hurt. She loves Jackie and feels jealous of her, so she sleeps with her boyfriend, gets pregnant with his child, and implodes their friendship. She is deeply mourning Jackie’s death, so she eats a part of her to feel close to her again. She’s grieving the loss of her baby and doesn’t know what to do with that feeling so she nearly beats Lottie to death. She has a feeling Jeff might be cheating so she starts an affair with Adam. Someone stole her minivan? She’s gonna track them down, hold them at gunpoint, and nearly kill them. When she begins to feel unsafe and suspicious of Adam, this feeling, too, spirals out of control and she ends up murdering him. Shauna’s emotions are powerful, and while they do serve an important purpose of keeping her alive in the Wilderness, she doesn’t know how to express them in healthy ways and ends up lashing out as a result. I have a feeling they’re going to play an important role in Season 3, as well, as we can see that Shauna’s jealousy of Nat’s leadership is already beginning to make itself known.

[randombush3]

love's gonna get you killed

alexia putellas x reader

summary: alexia is older, wiser, and trying to make you the best. in doing so, she loses sight of more important things.

words: 5.4k

warnings: it’s a little bit toxic and there’s an age gap

notes: the request for this can be found here. genuinely never flinched more when writing something and this is only the beginning... NEW TRILOGY TIMEEEE

p.s. it's set in two timelines and i hope you clock otherwise this will not make sense

then again, this could've been a fever dream over the past few days soooo

Morning. 

Like dawn; like the freshness of dew on the grass and a light breeze. A thousand suns and the bluest of skies. 

How do you even begin to describe it? 

A spark? 

Yes. It starts with a spark. 

Barcelona play Levante. An away match for the former, but hardly a challenge. Tough games are increasingly difficult to come by with the depth of their squad (and the failings of their league), but Alexia doesn’t mind too much. The break is welcomed with open arms, and she loves nothing more than to crush her opponent. 

She is merciless, but she is never unkind. 

The goals come flowing like an unstoppable river; white-water rapids tearing up the shitty pitch and obliterating the Levante players. Alexia runs to stay afloat, to further prove the excellence of the club she adores, and her buoyancy is mimicked by those of equal skill. 

Weirdly, an intruder survives the flood. 

What was struck off as a clean sheet is flipped on its head; tainted, stained. 

One goal. 

One magic boot, one hero. 

One player saves Levante from losing four to nil. 

The small-ish crowd wildly shouts your name, well-acquainted with screaming those syllables after seeing the swoosh of the white net and the step towards victory. 

Alexia’s eyebrows furrow, although she knows they are not going to lose. It’s frustrating for her, having failed to apprehend a pass somewhere down the line that had connected and connected until it found your feet and soared home. In her head, clouded with pride, it makes no sense. 

Who the fuck thinks they can score against the greatest club in the world? 

(Maybe, thinking about it now, Alexia is a little unkind.) 

The rallying war-cry that she roars catches your smug attention. You’re glad she thinks you’re a threat, even if your team is technically being thrashed.

Somehow, Alexia assigns herself to mark you. The fluidity of Barcelona’s formation allows for the defence to press higher than their manager’s instructions, and, as you are clearly the best Levante has, you are all over the ball; drawn deeper into the action. You almost forget the definition of ‘striker’, too engaged in the midfield. 

You’ll be bollocked for it later, you think when there’s a brief reprieve, the ball rolling out of play for a Barcelona throw-in. You look at the gap you have left in the front line and the chaos you have caused in the midfield, and you try to convince yourself to return to the game-plan. But then there’s Alexia Putellas, her hand pressed against your back, fingers gripping your shirt to stop you from intercepting the bouncing ball as it hurtles towards one of her own. 

Alexia Putellas has a decisive grip on you. She pulls you back, and she makes it seem easy. 

You take one look at her expression, jaw clenched as she concentrates on ripping your team to shreds, and feel the need to roll your eyes.

Her determination to embarrass you is admirable enough. It’s clear that Alexia can’t handle losing in any capacity. It’s clear that she cares. 

She is worried, and that is obvious too. 

She doesn’t let you get very far from her, despite the shouts for extra coverage down the middle. Alexia is clever when it comes to football, and she can smell talent like a blood-thirsty shark. Preoccupying herself with defending meaningless passes that only wind the clock down would be useless; it will always be useless when you are on the pitch. 

Because you’re good. Really good. Young, fresh, talented, and just what the Barcelona squad might need. 

The ball comes to your feet and she is ready to quell the threat. She faces you, her closed defending designed to make you feel caged. However, when the ball slips between her open legs, she is left to catch smoke in the wind, and, though it’s at her own expense, she is impressed. 

Just like that, something ignites. 

...

Alexia wakes up with a low, determined groan. Her alarm is loud and you begin to move in your sleep, distressed by its intense, relentless mission to rouse the entire world. Alexia doesn’t care if you want to sleep in. She thinks you should be foaming at the mouth to train with her today. 

It’s the day after the latest league match. 

Together, Alexia and you scored three shared goals. The connection on the pitch is undeniable, and has been since Barcelona leapt at the chance to sign you at the start of last season. 

She’s an impactful player and is lethal when her passes are fired towards you. 

Days like these are tests. You hear the alarm and know you are waking up beside your captain, not your girlfriend. 

The alarm might as well signify the start of another trial; another exam. Do you want to be good, or the best? Do you know that talent is not everything? 

Whenever the questions appear, more in her eyes than on her sharp tongue, you hold back your remark. It’s the same every time. 

Maybe I don’t want to be the best, Alexia.

Maybe I have more talent than you, Alexia.

Captain Alexia Putellas is easier to shout at than the woman you love. 

...

Levante loses but you do not seem disheartened; you’re only twenty, and there will be many more matches to win in the future. 

You wipe the sweat from your brow, laughing at how some of the Barcelona players grimace as you hold out the same hand for them to shake. They are mostly the younger ones; those you know from the national team. 

They ask you whether you’re going to celebrate your goal later. There’s no real reputation of partying attached to your name, but there is a certain standard that comes with being a young and bright star. Kick-off was early, and it would be a good day to explore Valencia’s nightlife. 

“I’m going home tonight,” you explain pointedly, just to stop them from further taking the piss. 

“No way.” 

“Yeah, we’re having dinner.” 

“You and your family are–?” 

“I’m trying to move past it,” you reply. It’s curt and a clear end to the conversation. The crowd of players disperses soon after and you are following the victors back to Barcelona before you know it. 

A sleek, black car picks you up from the station with more than the necessary fanfare. The driver’s window rolls down, revealing an unfamiliar face; dark sunglasses, starch-ironed shirt. 

“You’re new,” you mutter to the driver as you slide into the backseat. He remains silent. “Where did the last one go? It hasn’t been that long.” He couldn’t have died or anything, you’re sure of it. 

It has only been, what, four years since you were last here? 

Your parents divorced when you were seven. Like most cases, you were caught in the crossfire, but that was hardly traumatic enough. 

They were liberal and believed in your emotional capacity with slightly more vigour than it deserved. They told you all the gory details: who slept with whom; who should go to Hell. 

The most gruesome part was the debate about who should keep you. It was a bloody battle, but not a choice a seven-year-old was able to make. And your father, the pathetic man he had become, bowed out after a month, fucking right off to Munich with a new job and bitterness in his heart that led him to vow to never, ever be in contact with you again. He lost and he chose to keep on losing. 

Fatherless, it was easy to attach yourself to the man your mother began to rebuild her life with. He was caring and he made your spiralling mother happier, funding lavish shopping trips and holidays. 

You moved into his house in the most affluent part of Barcelona – that was home, even if it didn’t quite feel like it. 

But you grew older, and so did the wonderfully in-love couple. Your father’s nose moulded itself onto your face, and his eyes grew more prominent whenever your mother tried to converse with you. It haunted her, your likeness, and it was unsettling to the man who wanted a family of his own. 

There was an easy route to rid themselves of you: boarding school in the US. You cried, riddled with homesickness, every night for months, while they procreated as though they had no pre-existing child. Soon came twins; a mix of their own, a family of their own. 

So they became four, and, at sixteen, you became one; emancipated and ready to train in the Wolfsburg academy, having progressed quite well through the years at school (earning your call-up to Spain’s youth teams, winning a few medals, showing off what you considered the talent that made your existence worthwhile – the usual). 

“Hi,” you say as the door to the mansion swings open. The marble floors are vaguely familiar, but the two boys peering at you behind the housekeeper are not. “Is, um, dinner ready yet?” 

...

With the alarm still blaring, Alexia runs a warm hand down your bare back, calloused fingers pressing into the divot of your spine. It is always like this with her: one thing said by her actions, another by her mouth. The nature of the message flips and switches as she pleases, but she never seems to be entirely able to make up her mind. 

You sigh into the pillow, burnt by the flames left in the wake of her touch. “I’m tired.” The sound is muffled but clear enough to slowly tick down the seconds until the bomb explodes. “I’m tired from last night, Ale. From the match and, you know…” 

She shuts the alarm off. It’s an hour earlier than what it needs to be, but once upon a time, there was a reason for that. 

You catch a glimpse of the past behind your closed eyes as you feel her weight shift on the bed, legs straddling your hips as the sheets are pulled down to expose more of your bare skin. Her hands traverse your body, pressing into the muscles of your back with too much pressure and none at all. She is a lead weight and she is a ghost. 

She is full of contradictions. 

“You need to come with me today.” She grazes over a purpling bruise, inflicted by her own ravenous mouth. You hiss in pain, but it is forgotten the minute her lips kiss the crime scene with something almost apologetic. 

“Baby, I’m too tired to train.” 

“Your passes were sloppy.” Kisses trail across the backs of your shoulders, the base of your neck, the middle of a canvas she wants nothing more than to wreck over and over again. “And you were lucky to scrape your goal.” Her teeth sink into your flesh experimentally; the sharp pain gone before you begin to process it. “It was a beautiful goal, though. You looked beautiful scoring it.” 

You groan, your body arching involuntarily into her touch, pulled in by something stronger than your will. Alexia is intoxicating; Alexia clouds your mind. “I missed that shot,” she continues, dangerously close to anger. “Your fault.” 

“How was it–” You whimper as she targets the knots in your back. “How was it my… my fault?” 

Her fingers dig into the tightness of your muscles, unaffected by how you tense beneath her. They are sore, but it is more than that. 

Alexia has trapped you, and you are at her mercy. 

It sends shivers down your spine. 

“Because,” she whispers, her breath hot against your ear, “I was too busy watching you. You’re such a fucking distraction, you know.” 

“Ale…” 

Her laughter is musical but plays a haunting melody that prickles the hairs at the back of your neck. “Don’t be so desperate,” she purrs, her hands roaming lower with a searing heat behind them. “I missed a hattrick because of you, and it was pathetic.” 

You whine. 

“Tell me what you need, and maybe I’ll give it to you.” 

Your breath hitches, the words caught in your throat. She knows exactly what she’s doing, how to unravel you piece by piece until you’re begging for her. 

She loves it when you beg. 

“I…” You’re not a stranger to demanding things. You’re not pathetic, you’re not. “You. I need you.” 

“Good girl,” she murmurs, rewarding you with a kiss that sears your skin. Her hand slips lower, teasing the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, making you gasp. “But you have to earn it. You can’t afford to make the mistakes you made yesterday again.” 

You’re no longer listening. It’s not what you want to hear.

...

Unwelcome is the word that first springs to mind.

There is a long, mahogany trench table set, looking unnatural with the five places that throw the balance off. As though to emphasise your differences, you are ushered to the head of the table by the housekeeper, your half-brothers hesitating at the open doorway of the dining room, almost afraid to be alone with you. 

You remember being told your mother had given birth by the housemistress at school. She’d offered to see if you could get on a flight home, but no request for your presence had come; the hint had been received loud and clear. 

If they didn’t want you, you didn’t want them. 

But you don’t miss the shirt one of the boys is wearing. 

“Where’d you get that?” you ask curiously, encouraging them to approach with a tight-lipped smile. The one dressed in a Levante shirt looks at the other. 

“It’s his,” they say at the same time. It’s a little creepy. 

“Papa wouldn’t let us get your name, but that’s what we wanted.” 

“You guys like football?” you ask, forcing a casual tone. 

They nod enthusiastically, thumbs poking into their chests as they state their positions and opinionated ranking on the local team. “We get our teammates to watch your highlights. We’re gonna see you at Barça next season!” 

“How do you know I’m going to Barça next season?” you tease. “Because I didn’t even know that.” 

“Papi’s friends with Sr. Laporta, tonta.” Frowning, you grow less amused of the tidbit. Maybe your stepfather feels guilty. Maybe he wants to give your career an unnecessary helping hand. But you’d rather be sent into the Queen’s League than sign because of your connections.

Despite the tension hanging in the air, you lean back in the chair, trying to ease the stiffness in your shoulders. The eyes of your half-brothers flicker between you and the table. You’re a stranger to them, and their apprehension is understandable. It stings, but it isn’t your fault. 

The housekeeper returns, clearing her throat to interrupt the stilted silence. “Dinner will be served shortly,” she announces, her eyes avoiding yours. You scrutinise her, trying to remember whether she was there when you were first sent away. Is she new? “Boys, why don’t you fetch your father from his study?” 

Emboldened by the prospect of their escape, the one in a Levante shirt steps forward. “Can we play after dinner?” 

Before you can answer, a familiar voice interrupts. "Boys, give your sister some space." They are scurrying away in an instant. 

You look up to see your mother standing in the doorway, her expression stern. There's an awkward pause as she takes a seat at the other end of the table, her eyes never meeting yours.

"Good to see you," she says, her tone clipped. You nod, acknowledging her presence without offering a response. “I was surprised to hear you were coming. Have you run out of money?” 

“I have money.” 

"Then why now?" she presses, her eyes still avoiding yours. The question hangs in the air as you take your time to answer it. Past arguments seep into the room, and, despite the large windows and high ceilings, you feel trapped. 

You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. "I wanted to see my family," you say, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. 

Your mother's lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, you think she might actually say something kind. But instead, she shifts her gaze to the polished surface of the table. "Well, here we are," she says, her tone flat.

...

There is something about the soft way Alexia cares for you that keeps you by her side. She’s not a bad person, and she is sorry when she is mean. You can be worse, so, really whose fault is it? Sometimes you provoke her. 

None of that matters now, though. Not in the airy space after sex and before the world begins to turn again. The sun is beginning to rise now, bathing the room in fresh light that must unsettle your girlfriend. She is trying to calm herself down, lying beside you to regain her strength before she will haul you both up. 

If you hadn’t wanted to train, you should never have spoken this morning. 

Your fingers draw lazy patterns on her stomach, nails grazing up and down tanned skin as you trace out words you cannot bring yourself to say. In this moment, everything feels perfect. You’re not sure whether your mind is still clouded with desire, but you have to close your eyes to stop tears from falling. 

“I love you,” you whisper, voice barely audible. 

“I love you too,” she replies.

It’s easy to say it because it’s true. 

It’s true because Alexia has been there for you like no one else. 

Your whole life has felt like a terminal at an airport. Everyone around you has their own emotions about their own adventures, and the crowd rushes to various gates – various destinations – with urgency you have never sought, nor found. You often stand in the middle of the bustling, bumbling mass of people, head in your hands, wondering why they seem to know where life is taking them. 

When you signed for Barcelona, it was a surprise. You hadn’t believed your little brothers when they had let it slip, and you were certain your worth was going to be exploited in another league – maybe you’d go back to Wolfsburg, maybe you’d explore abroad. Maybe your mother sending you away was a good thing, because it proved that Spain wasn’t your home. 

Sure, you held the passport and spoke the languages, but… but maybe you didn’t belong. 

Then came Alexia, who told you the opposite of what you were starting to live by. 

Alexia – older, wiser, with a clear head on her shoulders and a drive like no other – wanted you to stay, wished you’d see yourself for what was so clearly in front of her eyes. You knew you were talented, but she knew you could be the best. 

Just like she was. 

Because Alexia was aware of the intricacies of ageing, of how experience was not going to be her saviour in the very end. She was focused on a legacy: her brilliance would live on in you. 

She loved you for it. 

She loves you still. 

You can feel her heartbeat, steady and reassuring. Dawn casts shadows across Alexia’s features, hiding the dark circles under her eyes in a bath of dim grey. She smiles, and the tenderness in her gaze is reserved for you, reserved for moments like these. She reaches out, fingers brushing your cheek gently. 

“We should get up,” she murmurs. 

You nod, knowing she’s right. Alexia is always right; you’ve learnt that over the years you have been together. “Just a few more minutes,” you mumble back anyway. 

Hands slide over your waist, pulling you into her body. Her laugh is quiet and giggly, full of love and fondness for a sentence she had predicted you’d say. “Okay,” she agrees. “So we’ll do three hours today, not two. Yeah?” 

...

The dinner doesn’t last very long for you, although that may be because you make it painfully clear you want to leave after the first course. Your stepfather catches on – you question if he had been hoping for this – and jumps at the chance to drive you to a high-end restaurant in central Barcelona that he is sure you will enjoy. 

He knows the chef, he says. He’ll wave money in your face and pretend that it makes these things forgivable. 

You’re hardly arguing though, so there’s not much room for complaint. 

The restaurant welcomes you into the cocktail bar, having awaited your arrival after being enticed by the name of the credit card attached to the tab. Your stepfather is well-known around these parts, and although the notion of a fifth member of his perfect family has been obscured for a long time, there is a shared surname between you and your little brothers that offers you half a place in this small shroud of gente rica. 

Sitting alone at the bar, you order a martini. The glass is cold against your fingertips, and a shiver runs down your spine despite the warmth of the busy restaurant. It’s loud here, with every table full of happy, wealthy patrons who do both business and pleasure all at once, but you feel distant, disconnected. 

You don’t belong here. 

It’s a struggle of yours. 

You never seem to belong anywhere; always an afterthought, always an add-on. 

There is no space that is moulded to fit your body, no path that has been carved out solely for you. (Or, if there is, it is really fucking hard to find.) 

Football is sort of your thing, but the whole nature of professional sport is to fight hard so you don’t get replaced – therefore implying that no one is inherently one-of-a-kind. 

Sometimes, you convince yourself that that isn’t what you want, but that is a lie. Everyone wants to be unique. Everyone wants to be loved for who they are. 

A tap on your shoulder pulls you out of your self-damning thoughts. 

“Are you alone?” 

You turn to find Alexia Putellas standing beside you, her eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and something else you can’t quite place. It seems she is more surprised to see you here than you are to see her, but she swallows her comment to look you up and down. 

Her scrutiny is intimidating. Maybe that is how you are supposed to feel, maybe that is what she wants. After all, the intensity of the match still lingers in your aching muscles, and seeing her now, out of the context of football kits and harsh tackles, is almost surreal. 

“Alexia, hi,” you say, forcing a smile. 

She repeats her question firmly, concern knitting her brows together. She’s wearing makeup, but you decide she doesn’t need it. 

Alexia is really pretty. You get lost on your way to answer her. 

She places a hand on the same shoulder she tapped, unaware of how your skin sizzles because of her touch, fearing you will run away from her. You have a skittish look about you, she’s noticed, and, for some reason, she wants you to stay put. 

“Come, sit.” Her hand waves in the direction of her table, filled with women around her age who must be her friends. A part of you finds it unfair that Alexia appears to have friends because someone once said sacrifices are the bricks that pave the way to success, but you put it out of mind to deal with politely declining her invitation.

Your hesitation only seems to spur her on, however. 

“You remind me of me, you know.” Your martini glass is empty, and her nose wrinkles with disapproval. 

“I do?” you ask, interested in what similarity she is going to draw between you. 

She holds up two fingers to the bartender, mouthing her order with a small smirk, before looking down at you from where she stands and you sit, inspecting your face. Her fingers gently wrap around your chin, and she tilts your head upwards. “You have that look in your eyes.” 

Laughter rings out from her table, followed quickly by calls for her to return to her meal. She ignores the noise, focused entirely on you. 

Alexia tries to suppress her thoughts of how beautiful you look – how ruggedly captivating, how… enticing – and she is sure she is successful. 

Until you lick your lips and ask her to elaborate. 

She is silent for a moment. 

It’s the first time someone has made you feel like nothing and everything all at once; like the brightest star in the galaxy, like an unused lump of clay. Like you are both wondrous and plain. Exceptional and just like everyone else. 

Alexia’s and… not. 

You are completely at her mercy. 

You agree to join her and her friends for dinner. 

As you approach the table, the group welcomes you with warm smiles and a polite interest in who you are. Alexia’s introduction makes you blush as she details your goal and the success attributed to you at such a young age (she emphasises that part for her own conscience), and it is only a moment before you settle into an empty seat beside her, somehow put at ease. 

The conversation resumes its flow, light and lively, but Alexia is distracted from the discussion of their next holiday. She has questions, many of them, and she figures you are detached from the Catalan they speak in and are silently begging for a language you do understand. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Alexia murmurs in Spanish, leaning in a bit closer. “Figured you’d, you know, be licking your wounds in Valencia.” 

Two drinks are delivered to your table; one for you, one for Alexia. She watches your lips as they part to take a sip, pinching her own thigh when she catches herself. 

“I used to play for Levante,” she continues as you stoically nurse your drink. “When I was younger, Barça sent me off to get some experience. They called me back soon enough.” 

“I never played for Barça.” She raises her eyebrows in surprise, more so for your assumption of her assumption than anything else. You notice her expression. You laugh and Alexia finds she’s quite a fan of that sound. “I’m from Barcelona, Alexia. I speak Catalan and everything.” 

“You don’t sound–” 

“My stepfather has a house in Sarrià and told me to fuck off to boarding school when I was younger. So I went to America and I had to do Spanish classes, and ‘cause I’d renounced my family, it was like learning Castellano all over again.” 

“Like a madrileña,” Alexia finishes off, amused. “Boarding school, eh?” 

“Lost my parents, lost my accent. Childhood of dreams,” you respond sarcastically. “I’ve just come from a family dinner, actually. I left after the starter because… well, it fucking sucked seeing my mother pretend–” You hold your tongue, embarrassed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to dump it all on you. The martini’s loosened my lips.” 

Your laugh this time is self-deprecating and a little painful to hear. Alexia shakes her head and is about to encourage you to carry on, when she catches the heat rising to your cheeks and wonders whether that would be for the best. Instead, she thinks you might prefer to hear something else. “How about another drink after you’re done with that?” 

The rest of the night is a blur. 

Alexia is torn between wanting to impress you and wanting to protect you. She doesn’t know which to follow: the reasonable responsibility drilled into her head, captain of Barcelona, captain of Spain… or the pulse between her legs that grows stronger every time her gaze falls to the low-cut top you’re wearing. It’s this desire that must destroy her judgement, and, after you have insisted on paying for the meal with your stepfather’s credit card, Alexia finds herself having to text the younger girls at Barça to see if any of them can come get you. 

Pina’s busy, Cata’s out with her friends, and Jana claims she’s emetophobic. 

Briefly, Alexia wonders if she imagined you being friends with any of them, but, at the end of the day (or beginning – as it is rapidly approaching tomorrow), she really does have to take you somewhere. She won’t let your half-catatonic body lie on the streets of Barcelona, and so she hauls you into a taxi and waves goodbye to her friends. 

“Interesting recruitment method for the B team,” jokes one of them as they disperse. “Wait, sorry. You waxed lyrical about her tonight enough for me to know that she’d be on the first team with you.” 

“Her contract must be in the works,” Alexia agrees, choosing to ignore the saccharine tone such a compliment was voiced with. “I swear, she’s going to be the best.” 

You’re not paying attention to any of this, of course, too busy pressing your hand against the glass of the taxi’s window, giggling every time you imprint the shape of your palm. “Alexia!” you call out, wanting her to share your enjoyment. “Alexia, look!” 

She turns to look at you, her stern expression softening when she sees how your eyes have lit up. She can’t help but smile at the innocence of your little game, and if the taxi driver raises his eyebrows in the rearview mirror, Alexia chooses not to notice. 

“Very impressive,” she says, cringing at how she sounds like she is soothing a child. You seem even younger now, especially when your ears perk up as she speaks in Catalan, a picture of something you confessed to have lost years ago. 

It’s a horrible conflict to have brewing inside of her, and she shakes her head, trying to clear it. Her composure becomes harder to maintain with you being pressed up against her in the backseat, but all thoughts she has are thrown into a deep, dark ditch that she decides to deal with at a later date. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, your voice slurred and eyes wide with curiosity.

“My place,” comes the simple reply. It’s the only option left. She knows she can make sure you’re safe, and, besides, the idea of you at her place feels comforting, as though it were not supposed to be any other way.

When the taxi finally pulls up outside her apartment building, Alexia pays the driver and helps you out of the car. You falter like a newborn foal learning to walk, and she encourages you to lean heavily on her so that the journey inside will be quicker. The walk to her door feels longer, and each step is tentative as she continues to debate her decision. 

But she’s going to care for you. That’s all. 

You marvel at her apartment, which shocks her after she has learnt about your childhood, but she takes the compliment and guides you to her bedroom under the guise of giving you a ‘tour’. The spare bedroom is unusable, seeing as the bed has become the latest storage cupboard for her boxes of awards and PR packages, so, again, this is the only option. 

You collapse unceremoniously onto her mattress with a loud sigh. 

Alexia stands there for a moment, watching as you settle into her bed. As much as responsibility and protectiveness hangs over her head, she also feels something much deeper inside of her beginning to swirl into a storm. She’s not ready to acknowledge it yet. 

Taking a deep breath, she glances at you once more. “You need to rest.” Her voice carries the authority of the woman she is; a woman who is much older and wiser and who has more power than ethical to be feeling any kind of attraction towards you. Her hand hovers over you, brushing a stray hair from your forehead. The warmth of your skin under her fingertips sends a jolt through her, but she quickly pulls her hand back, focusing on her current task.

“Thanks, Alexia,” you mumble, already half-asleep. 

After that close-call, she rights herself, looking around her room for a moment before heading to the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water. She places it on the bedside table, knowing you'll need it in the morning, not wanting to wake you up to drink it now. She then finds a spare blanket and a pillow, setting up a makeshift bed for herself on the sofa in the living room.

Exhausted from the day, she expects to fall asleep quickly, but she is tortured by the same question, over and over again. 

How the fuck did she get here? 

[nikethestatue]

How the Mating Went

(In celebration of the impromptu Elain Archeron Week, because I can)

There were things that Elain Archeron preferred to keep a secret. Her family was nosy and everyone liked being in each other's business. Yes, it was cute at times, adorable even, but also annoying and intrusive.

The things that she kept secret varied in terms of importance. For example, she didn't like that restaurant that Rhys insisted they go to. The restaurant itself was fine, and the atmosphere was lovely, but the food...Elain couldn't stomach the food. But she pretended that she enjoyed it. That was a small thing. A bigger thing was that she knew how to winnow--but she hadn't told anyone. Not her sisters, not her friends. She wasn't sure why that was exactly. Perhaps, she wanted to keep a bit of freedom for herself. The other small thing was that she really didn't like anything with cinnamon. When she made spiced cakes in the fall, she usually omitted it, and it didn't seem like anyone noticed it. Well, maybe he noticed it. But he never said anything. He never said anything to her anymore. It hurt her. It hurt her heart not to hear from him, not to hear his voice, not to have him address her. It hurt.

That was, perhaps, her greatest secret. A secret that she kept deep inside her chest and never dared to speak of. Not even to the twins. It was simple, really. She was in love.

Elain Archeron loved a man. Well, a male. She never wanted a male, and didn't think that a day would ever come when she'd desire one. She didn't want a mate or a male. But this one--he was the one she loved. And if he was her mate, she wouldn't have minded it. But he wasn't and he wouldn't be. She loved him in secret. She loved him in silence. She loved him through unshed tears, with a smile plastered on her face. She loved him into the void.

Lastly, another thing that she kept a secret, was her newly discovered obsession with nightball. It was Prythian's premiere spectator sport. Where she came from, there were sporting tournaments, and tennis, and jousting, especially among the wealthy noblemen. When she was young, she and Nesta and their parents would go to the races, watching and even betting on ponies. Once, she even won six gold coins. Her mother had said that it would go towards her dowry. Elain was seven years old.

Nightball was a simple game, played between two teams--the objective was to throw a ball into a net. it was basic enough, but magic could be used, so each team had two winnowers and two racers, who ran like the wind. There were two defenders, who could erect walls of fire and air, and two fliers, who were winged Fae.

Elain would sneak out to go to the stadium to watch the games. She lied to Feyre, telling her that she was going to help elderly Fae in the city. She didn't. Well, sometimes she did--but she also had purchased tickets for 24 season games and when her favourite team was playing--the Golden Dragons--she winnowed wherever they played and attended the games. She'd scream herself hoarse, sweat through her tunic, and have the time of her life.

Today, the game happened to be in Day Court--it was her second favourite Court, after Summer. Day was beautiful, and its citizens certainly took their games very seriously. Their stadium was magnificent, made of white limestone and with the capacity to house many thousands of occupants.

The game was nerve-wracking. The Golden Dragons were playing the second best team in the League, the Dark Knights. The score was up and down the entire game, with one of the winnowers being taken out, and both fliers being ejected from the field by the referee. Elain was stress-screaming so much, she'd lost her voice. But the Dragons won and she was blissfully happy.

Now, she was walking down the marble promenade which overlooked the sea. It was warm and couples strolled alongside her, most carrying banners and insignia of their respective teams.

"Elain, wait up."

She turned around so swiftly at the sound of his voice, she almost fell over. His hand clasped around her upper arm and he steadied her, but not before she bounced against his chest, face first.

"What are you...how do you...why? How did you...you know..." she began babbling incoherently.

"I watch you," he said simply.

"What? Why?" she exclaimed, completely flustered.

He wrapped his long strong fingers around her fist and walked next to her. An Illyrian Shadowsinger was an unusual sight here, in Day Court, and he was stared at. He didn't react.

"Why are you here?" she repeated.

"Because I can't look away."

"What...what do you mean?" she murmured.

"Just that. I can't help but watch you. And when I can't watch you, I worry about you. That you know how to winnow makes it even harder for me. So I watch you when I can. And when I can't, I am tormented by the worst thoughts."

"What thoughts?"

"That you are with another male," he admitted. "Or that you are hurt and I cannot help you."

"I don't want any males," she huffed irritably.

He smiled sadly.

"I know."

They walked in silence for a long time.

There wasn't anything to say.

But he didn't release her hand.

Once out of the promenade, they stepped out onto a plaza where food stalls sold everything from fried fish, to fruit pies, to drinks and ale.

"Buy me a sweet ice," she requested.

"Alright," he nodded, "what flavour would you like?"

Elain stopped to read the offerings--raspberry, cherry, lemon, orange, coffee, almond, pistachio.

"Cherry," she said. "What's your favourite?"

"Hmmm, I am not sure," his eyes scanned the sign. "Caramel, I think."

"You like sweet on sweet."

"When you aren't allowed even a dab of honey on your lips for the length of your childhood, sweet on sweet sounds very good," he told her.

She blushed. She shouldn't have said it. She shouldn't have said anything.

"So cherry then?" he confirmed, counting some coins in his palm.

He hadn't let go of her hand though.

"No, I changed my mind," she shook her head. "I want caramel."

"Oh, so sweet on sweet then?" he teased.

Once he paid, he handed her the sweet ice and they walked towards the sea. The sun was setting. Dusk. The sea was calm, the surf smooth and quiet, like soft brushes of paint on canvas.

Elain stopped, admiring the view. It was endless ocean and endless sky in front of her, and next to her, the only one she wanted to stand with. Endless life. Endless love.

He was quiet. As always.

She exhaled. The words fell from her lips.

"I think you are my mate'," Elain said clearly.

Then she handed him the sweet caramel ice.

Sweet on sweet.

"So eat."

He ate.

[saturnsbabyboii]

The Black Moon Lilith in the signs and houses (Our core fear, inner saboteur, healing and transformation)

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Note: I heavily use the work of Laura Walker’s book that I will reference. I used her wording and point of view from the book because she worded better than I could. So don’t come for me with any plagiarism crap. Thank you.

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"power comes from strife"

                                                 ୧‿︵‿୨

Black Moon Lilith operates on unseen levels. It pertains to hidden information, exposes secrets, and brings our core and primary fears to light. Fears from our shadow side cause us to undermine ourselves, and even others. Black Moon Lilith is the lingering feeling that stabs your consciousness and triggers you; If you don't listen to it, you'll grow vicious and paranoid of others and yourself.

My interpretation of the shadow is that it is the home of our primal fear. A fear that has significant power in our lives. It is based on primal, instinctual levels and operates on survival principles. The primary fear is a primary motivator for many of our life decisions.

In the book "The Astrology of the Black Moon: A Guide to Healing the Shadow Side" (Walker, 2011)

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The writer identified the twelve signs and their innate and core fears:

ARIES: fear of unworthiness

Theme: The Shadow of Success

Primary Fear: fear of unworthiness

Self-judgment: how well one performs or measures up

Issues: success; identity; questions about inherent value, self-esteem, and merit

Projection: others‟ success and worthiness are based on what they have attained or accomplished

Goals: to not compare yourself to others; to not measure personal success by anyone else standards, to value yourself as a unique expression of the Creator, therefore, creating self-esteem

Manifestation: The Black Moon in Aries manifests in the intense quest to be valued and feel worthy. However, a deep-seated feeling of unworthiness is in conflict with this quest, often causing beneficial opportunities to be passed up. In life, we are only able to receive what we think we deserve, and when we feel undeserving, we will avoid or reject people, jobs, or options that we feel are too good for us. Self-sabotaging behavior often occurs with the Black Moon in Aries. There can also be a need to prove ones worthiness to others, even in the form of subtle bragging. The Black Moon in Aries staunchly defends itself and rejects anything that does not fall in line with its ideas and beliefs. 

Healing and Transcending:

With the Black Moon in Aries, the belief in inherent unworthiness must be faced. Simply by virtue of being born, we are entitled to and worthy of the joys of life. If All is One, then none are less than others. Each of us carries a spark of the Divine - none are excluded. Healing occurs when we are able to see ourselves as successful and worthy because we are a child of the Universe. When we recognize this, we understand that all other gauges are external and superficial. By holding ourselves in high regard, we naturally align with our highest and best.

Examine where you have settled for less than you wished.

Ask yourself what you would do if somehow, magically, a wand was waved and you were deemed worthy. Strive to connect with this vision. 

Ask yourself how much the appearance of success plays in your life. 

Ask yourself what you are always trying to win. When you discover the answer, decide if you really want it. Is it worth the effort? By practicing the awareness that you do not have to be the best in every situation, you will come to a natural state of internal balance.

Black Moon in Aries: Johnny Cash, Kurt Cobain, Albert Einstein, Elizabeth I, Mahatma Gandhi, Michael Jackson, Prince, Vladimir Lenin, Mary Queen of Scots, Justin Bieber, Katy Perry, Mark Zuckerberg

Black Moon in the 1st House 

Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are deeply related to how we feel about ourselves. The shadow side is ingrained in how we use our personal energy, what motivates us and our sense of overall wellbeing. Personal appearance or the way we appear to others is often a major concern. If the shadow is heavily in control, our behavior patterns will strongly reflect it. This placement of the Black Moon is intensely personal and our shadow issues will have a dramatic impact on our lives. 

Gift: The gift of the shadow is the vast amount of personal energy at our disposal. This level of energy can produce fantastic healers and immensely creative individuals. We can accomplish monumental feats and have an uncanny ability to turn “negatives” into “positives.”

TAURUS: fear of scarcity

Theme: The Shadow of Security

Primary Fear: fear of scarcity

Self-judgment: how secure/safe one is by the level of comfort

Issues: having enough to feel safe; compulsive consumption; insecurities

Projection: the tendency to criticize others for being lazy, irresponsible (especially with money), or unconventional

Goals: to not fill the void with “things,” to stretch beyond your comfort zone

Manifestation: With Black Moon in Taurus, the more we have, the more comfortable we feel. In turn, the more comfortable we feel, the safer we think we are. With this placement, there is an intense need to feel comfortable because there is a generalized feeling of being unsafe in the world. The Black Moon in Taurus manifests in an almost insatiable desire to consume and accumulate possessions, money, or anything that makes us feel safe and secure. However, no matter how much we acquire, it will never be enough because the void that we are trying to fill cannot be filled in this way. It may be filled momentarily, but the core feeling of insecurity will soon return. Oftentimes, the end result of this constant attempt to satisfy the fear of not having enough is the accumulation of debt, weight, or responsibilities – usually the exact things we are trying to avoid. With this placement of the Black Moon, there is an intense need to feel satisfied. Insecurities are held very deeply and there is tremendous fear of others knowing those insecurities. 

Healing and Transcending:

The belief that the world is unsafe must be confronted. Integrating the idea that we have all that we need inside is what heals this shadow. When we build on who we really are inside, we no longer need to accumulate possessions to feel secure. When we accept that all is going according to a divine plan, we no longer need to fear the events of the world. No matter what, each of us always returns to our Source. This is the security that Black Moon in Taurus seeks.

Cut back on whatever is filling the void. This will bring immediate discomfort and it will leave you with time on your hands. It is important to learn how to “not do” – to become comfortable with stillness. The next time you feel the need to take on more, buy more, or eat more, go and sit by yourself and put on some music, read, practice yoga or throttle down in some way. By practicing being still when you are most uncomfortable, you will be feeding your inner world and requiring less from the outer world.

Black Moon in Taurus: J.S. Bach, Patsy Cline, Howard Hughes, Abraham Lincoln, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Wilhelm Reich, Henry David Thoreau, Vincent van Gogh, Lady Gaga, Kanye West, Lana Del Rey, Bruce Lee, Celine Dion,  Joseph Stalin

Black Moon in the 2nd House 

Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are deeply related to how secure we feel. Financial considerations seem to plague us. The shadow side blurs the lines between emotional needs and material/financial needs; attitudes toward partners can hinge on security issues. The shadow side is ingrained in our value systems, which can at times seem at odds with our behavior. 

Gift: The gift of the shadow is the generous, comfortable feeling we engender in others, resulting in many meaningful, lasting interpersonal relationships. People truly enjoy being with us, finding us not only charming but disarming.

GEMINI: fear of rejection

Theme: The Shadow of Acceptance 

Primary Fear: fear of rejection 

Self-judgment: how one compares to others 

Issues: whether others approve or disapprove 

Projection: labeling others as selfish; distaste for people who fail to do “the right thing” 

Goals: to not care if people like or want you, to not compare yourself to others, to express your individuality 

Manifestation: 

Those with the Black Moon in Gemini are morbidly afraid of rejection. They are people pleasers, which often leaves them wondering “what it is we ourselves like and dislike”. This shadow manifests as a need to make decisions or act in accordance with whatever gains acceptance from others. It is damaging to the soul to pursue a life that others wish for us, as it comes at the expense of the expression of individual talents. Actions based on or motivated by another leads to a suppression of the true self. It is a great disservice not to explore who we really are. It is also dangerous to “over-do” for others in hopes that they will like us; ultimately it leads to burn out. At the other end of the spectrum, this placement causes sudden and severe reactions to anything that hints at potential rejection, often causing serious challenges with relationships because we will reject someone before they can reject us. The Black Moon in Gemini will bail out too early or stay way too long. 

Healing and Transcending: 

With the Black Moon in Gemini, it is necessary to face the need for others‟ approval. Each of us has something special to offer the world. What is important is not if others approve of us, but if we approve of ourselves. That sounds very cliché, but with Black Moon in Gemini we need to provide our own approval. When you are able to consciously put yourself on the line to be rejected, intending that the outcome will not hinder your spirit, you will have regained the power that is trapped in the shadow side. When the shadow is healed, rejection ceases to be an issue because inner acceptance has been achieved - creating a wealth of talent that is available to the world. 

Examine where you are not being self-“ish” or operating from your true self. 

When making decisions and planning your time and resources, ask yourself who you are doing it for. The answer should always be “for myself – for my highest and best which in turn serves the highest and best of everyone.” This doesn‟t mean you are supposed to forget about others; it means that you put yourself into the equation. Healing this shadow requires vigilant monitoring of your time, energy, and money and how you spend them. It will quickly become apparent when your energy is scattered and whose approval you are seeking. By practicing making little decisions based on your own needs, you will integrate and balance you in relation to others. 

Black Moon in Gemini: Marlon Brando, Karl Marx, Frank Sinatra, Mark Twain, Mariah Carey, Joe Biden, Muhammed Ali, Frida Kahlo, Harrison Ford, Stephen Hawking, Shia LeBeouf, Kendrick Lamar, Yoko Ono

Black Moon in the 3rd House 

Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are deeply related to self- expression. The shadow side is ingrained in rigid attitudes and strong opinions that can cause us an endless amount of trouble. At times there is overwhelming confusion about the direction we want to take in life. Early life has a more pronounced effect on us than others. The outgrowths of childhood weave their way through later life in the most resolute ways. Issues with siblings can linger throughout adulthood. 

Gift: The gift of the shadow is our uncanny, exacting powers of observation and communication. These talents can be applied in a multitude of ways. Also, our accuracy in perceiving situations gives us a definite advantage in life.

CANCER: fear of abandonment

Theme: The Shadow of Support 

Primary Fear: fear of abandonment 

Self-Judgment: how well one is supported; how much others do or give 

Issues: dependency; co-dependency 

Projection: tendency to dislike those we deem “needy” 

Goals: to do things for ourselves, to not be dependent or “clingy” 

Manifestation: 

Black Moon in Cancer carries a pervasive feeling of being unable to take care of oneself. This shadow manifests in the need to manipulate situations so that one is dependent on others. In this way we are assured of not being alone. This distorted sense of support wreaks havoc on relationships, as others feel burdened or smothered. Many times with the Black Moon in Cancer we feel unappreciated for the things we do for others. The chronic feeling of not being supported halts personal growth, as personal needs are met by others, not by ourselves. 

Healing and Transcending: 

The dependence on others for support must be faced. We must provide our own support by not abandoning ourselves. This means taking care of and addressing our own needs. Action that is in favor of self-sufficiency is in order. Action that is undertaken for others should be unconditional. When the concept of Oneness is integrated, the idea of abandonment is no longer valid and relationships naturally equalize to a state of balance. 

Begin doing the things that you want others to do for you all by yourself. The next time you need something that you would normally ask another to provide for you, go ahead and get it yourself. Begin with small things but work your way up to major ones. 

Do something that you never would have done on your own. By practicing doing more for yourself you will balance the shadow that depends too heavily on others. 

Set up individual systems of support such as retirement funds or other accounts. 

Black Moon in Cancer: Jimi Hendrix, Henry VIII, Janice Joplin, John F. Kennedy, Jr., Malcolm X, Princess Diana, Jennifer Aniston, Elvis Presley, Jay Z, Robin Williams, Paul McCartney, Charles Manson, Naomi Campbell, Kobe Bryant, Rupaul, Paul Newman, Al Capone

Black Moon in the 4th House 

Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to our foundation and sense of home. The shadow is ingrained with an overidentification with home and much effort is devoted to cultivating a feeling of belonging. With this placement, relationships with parents (particularly the mother) are often difficult, especially if our parents did not provide a strong home. There is a tendency to be stuck in the past and/or unable to forgive and forget. 

Gift: The gift of the shadow is the ability to not only be sensitive to, but accommodate other people needs. If we truly trust someone, we will provide whatever is necessary to make that person happy, making us exceptional partners.

  LEO: fear of change

Theme: The Shadow of Order 

Primary Fear: fear of change 

Self-judgment: the level or station one has achieved 

Issues: order; position; arrogance; self-centeredness; jealousy 

Projection: distaste for or identification with overbearing, vain, or “selfish” people 

Goals: to identify and vocalize others‟ talents and strengths, to identify the opportunities presented by changes, to eliminate feeling jealous 

Manifestation: 

The Black Moon in Leo assaults the ego. It manifests in egocentricity and arrogance. With this placement we are frequently accused of being selfish. This is because our attention is naturally attracted to whatever reinforces our position in life. Any ideas to the contrary are quickly dismissed. The fear of change morphs into the fear of losing face or losing position. Rigid attempts to maintain the existing order, framework, or mindset are common and can lead to exhaustion. 

Healing and Transcending: 

With the Black Moon in Leo, the need for classification and designation must be faced. In truth, there is no hierarchy – All is One. Change is the nature of the Universe and change brings the opportunity for growth. We each have roles that we slip in and out of; the key is to fluidly take on positions and situations where we both lead and follow so that nothing remains static. It is also important to remember that, by definition, Divine Order is never threatened. 

Give to others. Black Moon in Leo has a tremendous capacity to uplift. ø When you encounter new situations, consider how you could empower someone else who is involved. How could you make them feel more important? Think about how you could give something of yourself to someone else. 

When you are with others, practice trying to discover something very special about them in that moment and then casually mention it. 

Try new things. By practicing changing the order of things, you are healing your shadow. 

Black Moon in Leo: Charles de Gaulle, Ernest Hemingway, Elizabeth II, Lyndon B. Johnson, John F. Kennedy, Robert F. Kennedy, Marilyn Monroe, Vladimir Putin, Jim Morrison, Pablo Picasso, Christopher Reeve, Franklin D. Roosevelt, Leo Tolstoy, Barack Obama, Rihanna, Adele

Black Moon in the 5th House 

Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to the ability to truly enjoy life. This shadow is ingrained in pursuing, but having difficulty finding, pleasure. We are prone to take risks in order to feel stimulated. Issues with the father are found with this placement. The father may have been absent or neglectful, especially if Saturn is prominent. This shadow side may also center on children, either wanting children and not having them or not taking care of ones children. 

Gift: The gift of the shadow is resiliency. No matter how disappointed we become, we are rarely down for long. We are excellent problem solvers and leaders. We adapt well to changes and can fluidly change course in mid-stride.

  VIRGO: fear of failure

Theme: The Shadow of Ability

 Primary Fear: fear of failure 

Self-judgment: how much one works, progresses, improves, or fixes 

Issues: feelings of being inherently flawed; self-criticism 

Projection: feeling that others are not performing well enough or are incompetent 

Goals: to not focus on flaws or failures, to not do things to excess, to not feel responsible to fix everything 

Manifestation: 

Black Moon in Virgo finds flaws and then internalizes them. This shadow manifests in chronic dissatisfaction, particularly with oneself. With this placement, we often find it difficult to feel positive about ourselves for great lengths of time. All too soon, a generalized feeling of being “not good enough” creeps back in to maintain internal disequilibrium. Black Moon in Virgo constantly challenges our abilities and, in an effort to prove ourselves, we tend to maintain a very full schedule. We work very hard but can have trouble seeing the forest for the trees, as we operate under the spell of having to do more and more to prove to ourselves and others that we are not flawed. This shadow is the most adept at self punishment. 

Healing and Transcending: 

With the Black Moon in Virgo, the need to find fault must be faced. A healthier state of mind is achieved when we recognize that nothing is absolute – there is no absolute right or wrong. All levels of ability have something to contribute. Healing this shadow requires understanding that flaws are an illusion. The crucial thing to understand is that when we have the Black Moon in Virgo, we interpret the feeling of separation from Spirit as somehow our fault. Everyone has the feeling of spiritual disconnection, but Black Moon in Virgo personalizes it. This is the root cause of why we feel flawed. To heal the shadow, we must accept that to some degree, this feeling is merely a by-product of the physical experience of life. 

Examine where you feel you have failed. Upon closer inspection, what caused the “failure?” Was it really your fault? Was there really more you could have done or was it just not meant to be? Can you forgive yourself and others for not doing better? 

Can you walk away from “failures” and feel enriched simply by having had the experience? Time is the true test of what is, at the time, perceived to be a failure. By focusing on the experience as opposed to the outcome, the shadow of ability is healed.

Black Moon in Virgo: Alexander Graham Bell, Benazir Bhutto, Sigmund Freud, Galileo, George Washington, 14th Dalai Lama, William Shakespeare, Jon Bon Jovi

Black Moon in the 6th House 

Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to health and work. At times there can be problems with co-workers, particularly regarding perceptions of our work performance. The shadow side is ingrained in the level of self-discipline we have. We may be accused of being disorganized. There is also a tendency to vacillate between ignoring our body and focusing too much on it, leading to concerns over health. 

Gift: The gift of the shadow is a keen insight into the interrelatedness of things. We often hold a warehouse of information that others find helpful.

LIBRA: fear of loneliness

Theme: The Shadow of Perfection

Primary Fear: fear of loneliness/isolation 

Self-judgment: personal “flaws” are harshly judged 

Issues: perfection; unrealistic expectations; boundary issues 

Projection: criticism of others, particularly the criticism of how things appear 

Goals: to not have to have things be perfect, to be comfortable being alone, to see gray - not just black and white, to not be judgmental 

Manifestation: 

Black Moon in Libra values impeccability and holds everything and everyone to a high standard, especially oneself. This shadow involves pursuit of the “ideal” and keenly feels the separation from spirit. The Black Moon in Libra manifests in intense self-judgment and fragmentation of the self into pieces that are either acceptable or unacceptable. This shadow breaches boundaries and sorts through everything in an attempt to perfect it. It seeks excellence. This results in an unending series of disappointments and can form schisms in relationships. Maintaining any semblance of perfection is exhausting for anyone, but with the Black Moon in Libra, we often find ourselves complaining about being tired or not having enough time. Indecisiveness and self-deprivation are also characteristic of this shadow. 

Healing and Transcending: 

With the Black Moon in Libra, the need to judge must be faced. This shadow is strongly connected to the journey through the judgment of the Underworld and subsequent rebirth in a whole new way (see Chapter Five on the transits of the Black Moon). It is actually a journey to find what is truly of value. When we are able to see that love is truly the only thing of value, we find inclusion instead of separation. We begin to love all of the parts, not just some of them. When we understand that everything is connected, we see that the fear of separation is an illusion. Healing the shadow of perfection is about seeing our own (and others‟) inner perfection by allowing the “ideals” of the outer, material world to fall away. 

Assess your values. When you find yourself being critical of others, ask yourself if you dislike that same thing in yourself. Examine how you separate yourself from other people. Is there a need to keep some part of you distinct from others? 

When you find yourself being critical, find something valuable about the situation. You might not feel like certain things about you or others are perfect in appearance, but you may find that they are highly valuable in functionality. By practicing finding value, the shadow that believes in the idea of perfection is healed. 

Black Moon in Libra: Ralph Waldo Emerson, Benito Mussolini, Tupac Shakur, Nikola Tesla

Black Moon in the 7th House 

Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to partnerships and commitment. This shadow side is urgently motivated to seek mutually-fulfilling relationships, which are often elusive. Also, other people find ways to take advantage of us, sometimes to the point of betrayal. Many times life seems unfair to us and others would probably agree. In the midst of this, there can also be issues of dependence or neediness. 

Gift: The gift of the shadow is our ability to perceive and create beauty from the smallest things. Innately tuned toward balance, we easily see what is missing and then endeavor to rectify the situation. This is a very valuable skill that can be translated into many different applications.

SCORPIO: fear of loss

Theme: The Shadow of Death 

Primary Fear: fear of loss 

Self-judgment: based on what one has won 

Issues: winning vs. losing; issues with death/endings 

Projection: rescuing others 

Goals: to not always have to win, to learn how to have closure, to not have to rescue, to not struggle so hard 

Manifestation: 

Black Moon in Scorpio will go to extreme lengths to save, assist, rescue, or win. This shadows favorite prize is something that was hard won. The Black Moon in Scorpio manifests as a deep well of despair with desperate attempts to climb out. We cling or attach to anything that stems the feeling of free-falling through life. Daily life is frequently viewed as a battle to win in order to stave off deepening feelings of loss. Sometimes even casual encounters are judged according to what was won or lost in the exchange. Black Moon in Scorpio is very strong energy that can cause intense levels of anxiety. We are especially attracted to people who are in need of assistance or who are “persecuted” in some way, as this is the preferred method to vicariously save ourselves. 

Healing and Transcending: 

With the Black Moon in Scorpio, the need to struggle must be faced. Nothing is ever really lost because there really is no death – only transformation into a new form. There is no need to plunge to the depths just to prove that we can win or to try to keep things from ending. Practicing the arts of gratitude and surrender is what facilitates the shift from the perspective of loss to the perspective of love. Material things fall away, but love endures forever. 

Become comfortable with losing. It is essential to let go of anything that you are overly attached to. 

Examine where you have invested most of your energy. Is it a losing battle? Instead of dealing with loss in an indirect way, consciously take action to give up. Imagine how relieved you would feel. 

Take steps to practice ending the smallest things (like phone calls) and work up to being able to step away from situations that cannot be saved (like dead end relationships). You may be surprised to find that something else was waiting all along - you just couldn’t see it while you were busy running away from it. This is the nature of death or endings. They always precede rebirth and beginnings. 

Black Moon in Scorpio: Alexander the Great, Winston Churchill, Nostredame, Steve Jobs, Emily Dickinson, Pope Francis, Walt Disney, Jeff Bezos, John D. Rockefeller, Albert Schweitzer, Mother Teresa, Eminem, Taylor Swift, Johnny Depp, Beyoncé, Dwayne Johnson, Notorious B.I.G

Black Moon in the 8th House 

Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to death, inheritance, investments, and sex. This is the most difficult house placement for the Black Moon. The shadow side is ingrained in loss; in fact, we may feel that our lives lead only to loss. With Black Moon in the eighth house, chronic anxiety may be present. 

Gift: The gift of the shadow is our great depth of compassion and ability to see beyond the surface. We quickly ascertain people true motivations. Our wisdom and insight is a great benefit to those with whom we are close.

SAGITTARIUS: fear of meaninglessness

Theme: The Shadow of Truth 

Primary Fear: fear of meaninglessness 

Self-judgment: based on intentions and motivations 

Issues: issues related to truth and honesty 

Projection: distaste for people who lie or people who are naïve 

Goals: to not have to have the ultimate answers, to tolerate the ordinary, to not always need “proof” 

Manifestation: 

The Black Moon in Sagittarius manifests in an intense relationship with the concept of “truth.” There is a great need to discern the superlative truth in all things, which causes a never ending sequence of questioning. More importantly, we need to feel like people are telling us the truth, as we do not automatically believe anything simply because it was said. Relationships can become stressed if our partners feel that they always have to prove that they are telling the truth. Themes of deception often play a role in our lives, perhaps as a victim of deception. Ongoing questions about not only our purpose in life, but the purpose of life characterize this shadow. Feelings of stagnation are not tolerated well. 

Healing and Transcending: 

With the Black Moon in Sagittarius, the need to continue searching must be faced. At some point, one must simply believe. Ultimately, all searching for the truth leads back to the truth that All is One. What is meaningful? Whatever we choose as meaningful is meaningful. This shadow is healed when we see that each of us has an interpretation of truth, which eliminates the need to find one superlative truth. 

Take up the mantle of responsibility for creating meaning in life. Meaningfulness is found by assessing what is truly important. What is meaningful to you? When you know the answers to this question, you will have created truth – the truth according to you. Devotion of your life to your own truth heals the shadow that never believes that truth really exists. 

Black Moon in Sagittarius: Helena Blavatsky, Napoleon Bonaparte, Thomas Jefferson, Carl Jung, Martin Luther King, Jr., Jack London, Claude Monet, Ronald Reagan

Black Moon in the 9th House 

Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to our outlook or philosophy in life, religion, spirituality, higher learning, the law, and the world at large. This shadow is deeply concerned with issues of morality. We hold strong opinions, often leading to conflicts with others. There is a tendency to feel disconnected from others or from ourselves. We may even feel compelled to isolate ourselves from the world around us. 

Gift: The gift of the shadow is a keen intellect that we are able to translate into many fields of interest. Our knowledge encompasses a wide spectrum, affording us the ability to relate to many different people, should we so desire.

CAPRICORN: fear of neglect

Theme: The Shadow of Control 

Primary Fear: fear of neglect/ not being acknowledged 

Self-judgment: how well one stands out or apart 

Issues: control issues; attention-seeking behavior 

Projection: negative reaction to bossy, showy, or attention-seeking people; rebellion against being told what to do 

Goals: to be comfortable when not in control, to stand up for yourself 

Manifestation: 

The Black Moon in Capricorn manifests as a need to control the course of events. When this shadow dominates, we have a tendency to be demanding. We can go to extreme efforts to gain attention. We have definite ideas about the way things should be and others often succumb to the force of our will. Frequently we refuse to give up until someone – anyone - acknowledges what we have to offer or agrees with what we think is best. A little bit of recognition goes a long way with us, but so does a little bit of neglect, and Black Moon in Capricorn has a long memory. But interpersonal relationships suffer when we wear down another free will to come into compliance with our own. This results in lackluster relationships where the joyful spark of life becomes extinguished. We are very hard workers, but we can also expect a lot from others. 

Healing and Transcending: 

With the Black Moon in Capricorn, we need to examine what we are trying to control. We also need to give ourselves the recognition we seek. When we are able to do this, there is no longer a drive to ensure that others follow our wishes because we already have what we need. 

Examine where you need to have your way. Observe yourself carefully. Are you telling someone how, when, or what to do? Practice allowing others to go about tasks in their own way. 

Ask others what they would like to do and then do it. Enjoy the feeling of not being responsible for everything. Freedom, spontaneity, and a joyful feeling for life will return when the pressure to be a certain way is removed. 

Black Moon in Capricorn: Leonardo da Vinci, Farrah Fawcett, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, Machiavelli

Black Moon in the 10th House 

Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to ambition, authority, social status, and responsibility. Tradition and family obligations are important us. This shadow is ingrained in a sense of duty and high aspirations, and we closely monitor our progress in the world as compared to others. We hold high standards and expectations, which can cause interpersonal difficulties if we demand too much from others. 

Gift: The gift of the shadow is our ability to persevere. We are hard workers who take more than our share of any load. When we give our word, we do everything in our power to keep it.

AQUARIUS: fear of powerlessness

Theme: The Shadow of Power 

Primary Fear: fear of powerlessness 

Self-judgment: based on the impact/power one has to get what one wants or needs 

Issues: power issues; power struggles 

Projection: distaste for weak or undisciplined people 

Goals: to learn to ask for help, to not overpower others

Manifestation: 

The Black Moon in Aquarius often manifests in a powerful sense of loneliness. Usually we are keenly aware of our intense personal power and are somewhat frightened by it. Our skills and aptitudes can border on genius, often giving us an air of considerable authority. We have strong faculties and diverse talents that can be used to uplift or to crush others. Black Moon in Aquarius is a force rivaled by few, and the temptation to dominate others can become an ongoing battle. It is simply all too easy to emotionally and intellectually overpower others. Ethical concerns can arise, as we are prone to test our limitations. In situations where we feel powerless, we tend to isolate ourselves so no one will see our “weakness.” This self-imposed prison is rife with internal brutality, as we tend to unleash cruel criticism on ourselves for not being stronger. 

Healing and Transcending: 

With the Black Moon in Aquarius, the tendency to overpower others must be faced. When we recognize that we are all connected, there is no need for anyone to overpower another. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses that fluctuate and change over time. The extra boost of power that accompanies Black Moon in Aquarius can be re-routed back into the collective of humanity in the form of brilliant ideas and creations that uplift the whole. A channel or outlet for this power is what is needed to keep it from blowing up. When the focus shifts to sharing power, all benefit. 

Examine if you abuse your power by neglecting or criticizing others. Do you take advantage of others, however unwittingly? Or do you neglect, criticize, or overextend yourself? 

Ask yourself what you would do with all of your power. It is very important for you to answer this question. Are you more afraid of your power or your powerlessness? Discerning the parameters of personal power is what heals this shadow. 

Black Moon in Aquarius: Robert Oppenheimer, Genghis Khan, Ludwig van Beethoven, James Dean, Jacki Kennedy, Salvador Dali, O.J Simpson, Amy Winehouse, Kid Cudi

Black Moon in the 11th House 

Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to our hopes, wishes, and dreams. The shadow is concerned with how we fit into the collective of humanity. Issues of the “self versus others” follow us and we may find that we are often accused of being selfish or self centered. Change is usually difficult for us to handle. 

Gift: The gift of the shadow is the ability to bring people together. We are natural networkers. We are also interesting people to be around and are true innovators.

PISCES: fear of vulnerability/harm

Theme: The Shadow of Trust 

Primary Fear: fear of vulnerability 

Self-judgment: based on how stable ones emotions are 

Issues: trust issues 

Projection: distrust of people who are “too nice” because they must want something 

Goals: to let down your walls with the appropriate people, to be able to discern who is appropriate for you, to focus on self as much as others 

Manifestation: 

The Black Moon in Pisces is tender-hearted. We are afraid that if others discover this, they will use it against us. There is a tendency to judge people and situations based on the potential of being hurt. We may find it difficult to be open or fully intimate with others. It is often hard to trust others and we test them until we feel safe. This shadow can show up overtly (in unmistakable emotional walls) but it can also show up subtly (appearing on the surface to be very open, but upon closer inspection having definite commitment issues). On the flip side, we can also make commitments before trust is gained. By prematurely trusting, we face betrayal or disappointment. In this way, a vague sense of safety is maintained since a deeper sense of intimacy is never attained. The sense of being separated from Spirit is acute with Black Moon in Pisces and the intense desire to not be present in the “here and now” can lead to emotional addictions, addiction to substances, or escaping our own issues through focusing on others. 

Healing and Transcending:

With the Black Moon in Pisces, the need to put up a wall of protection must be faced. The truth is, life can be painful and people hurt us whether they intend to or not. We need to learn to trust the people we know we can trust. Usually this is the person we are with the most, but proportionately open up to the least. We tend to hold ourselves back, but this is a crime against our souls because we are naturally closest to Spirit and have much to share with others. Our shadow is healed when we trust that we are strong enough to withstand any offense. 

Ask yourself when you feel most vulnerable. In what situations do you cross your arms and cover your chest? How do you cover up or cover over who you really are? 

Consider who you physically, intellectually, spiritually, and emotionally open up to the most? It is important to look at the level of trust you have in the people around you and honestly assess if your trust is well-placed. Balancing the shadow of trust is just as much about not placing trust in the people that you know you shouldn’t as it is about allowing someone else see who you really are. 

Black Moon in Pisces: Jesus Christ (allegedly), Prince Charles, John Lennon, Gerald Ford, Judy Garland, Angelina Jolie, Mike Tyson, Madonna, Harry Styles, Miley Cyrus, Ariana Grande, Leonardo DiCaprio, Al Pacino, Elizabeth Taylor

Black Moon in the 12th House 

Challenges: The greatest challenges of the shadow are related to unconscious motivations, addictions, institutions, and enemies. The shadow is deeply ingrained in anything that is hidden. By its very nature, the Black Moon is hidden, making this placement difficult to understand. There is often a side to us that is unknown to most people. We may have a degree of emotional suffering that is not evident to others until they get to know us. 

Gift: The gift of the shadow is our ability to empathize with others. We seem to easily give to others that which we may not be able to give to ourselves. We are complex people who can handle complex tasks and material with aplomb.

╚══════════════ ⛧ ══════════════╝

"Primary fears subvert our personal growth and feelings of happiness. Oftentimes they impede our success because fear is what stops us cold in our tracks when we are venturing into unknown territory. Our choices and actions are directly proportional to the level of control our shadow exerts over us. When the fear that is contained in the shadow side is dominant, we feel unfulfilled and unsatisfied." - (Walker, 2011)

Reference:

Walker, L., 2011. The Astrology of the Black Moon: A Guide to Healing the Shadow Side. Austin, Texas: The Dog Publishing.

[merwgue]

Rhysand is often portrayed as this perfect, morally grey ruler, but when you take a closer look at his actions, it's obvious how messed up he really is. Let’s break down the so-called “benevolent” High Lord of the Night Court.

1. The Hewn City – The King of Torture? Rhysand's treatment of the people in Hewn City is straight-up barbaric. The way he holds power over them isn’t out of necessity or to “protect” them from worse rulers—it’s control through fear and violence. He tortures them, plays with their lives, and enjoys maintaining his iron grip on them. It's almost like he uses them as his personal stress toys. Is that really the hallmark of a just ruler? Sure, Hewn City isn’t full of saints, but for Rhys to stand on his high horse and act like he's saving everyone while still torturing his subjects? Hypocrisy at its finest.

2. Rhysand and Feyre – Let’s Talk About Consent Let’s not forget that he literally assaulted Feyre Under the Mountain. I don’t care how anyone tries to frame it as him “saving her” from Amarantha—there’s no excuse for the way he took away her agency. Rhys manipulated her, forced her into wearing those skimpy outfits, and paraded her around for his entertainment. All while pretending it was for the greater good. It's pretty damn disgusting how that gets brushed under the rug like it was some noble sacrifice when in reality, he robbed Feyre of her choices.

3. Planning to Execute Nesta – The Line Between Justice and Control Rhysand and his inner circle legit planned to execute Nesta, all because she didn’t fall in line. Nesta had her faults—hell, a lot of them—but threatening her life because she didn't act the way Rhys wanted? That's not justice; that's manipulation and control at its core. He wasn't trying to protect anyone. He was pissed that he couldn't control her, that she wasn't another cog in his perfect little machine of Night Court harmony.

4. Tamlin – Kicking a Man While He’s Down Say what you will about Tamlin, but there’s no denying that Rhysand completely overstepped every boundary when it came to him. The Night Court loves to preach about freedom, but Rhys had no problem strutting into Tamlin’s land, throwing it in his face, and making an already broken man feel like utter shit. There’s a difference between defending your own and downright antagonizing someone who’s in the depths of depression. At one point, he basically told Tamlin to end his own life. What kind of "savior" talks like that to someone who's clearly struggling? It's downright cruel.

5. The Night Court – A Dictatorship Wrapped in Pretty Words Rhysand's Night Court is sold to everyone as this place of freedom, where people can be who they truly are—but at what cost? If you cross Rhys or don’t fall in line with his vision, you either face his wrath, his torture, or his manipulation. He's not running a court; he's running a dictatorship where everything is fine as long as it aligns with his master plan. The fact that he keeps calling himself the “most powerful High Lord in history” just feeds into that massive god complex he has. The ego on this guy is unbelievable.

6. Double Standards – The Morality of Convenience Rhys preaches about freedom and respect, but he only seems to extend that to people he deems worthy. If you’re in his circle or someone he cares about, great—you get all the privileges. If not? Well, tough luck. He’ll trample over your land, threaten your life, or torture you into submission. The cherry on top? Everyone around him acts like he’s the greatest thing to happen to Prythian, and the fandom just eats it up.

So, yeah. Rhysand is fucked up. He’s not just morally grey—he’s power-hungry, manipulative, and borderline sadistic. His version of “ruling” the Night Court is as hypocritical as it gets. Benevolent High Lord? More like the king of self-righteous cruelty.

7. Locking Up Nesta – Rhysand’s Tamlin Moment Remember how everyone vilified Tamlin for locking Feyre up “for her own safety”? Sure, it was messed up, but the narrative painted him as this controlling, possessive villain because of it. Now, fast forward to Rhysand, who literally does the same thing to Nesta. She’s spiraling, yes, but instead of finding her real help or giving her space to heal, he decides to trap her in the House of Wind like a damn prisoner. He takes away her freedom, isolates her from the outside world, and forces her into a situation she clearly doesn’t want. How is that any different from what Tamlin did?

But here’s the kicker: Rhysand gets praised for it. Why? Because he’s Rhysand, the supposed hero, and everything he does is always “for the greater good,” right? It’s utter bullshit. He used the same controlling tactics on Nesta that Tamlin used on Feyre, but the fandom acts like he was being this saintly, tough-love older brother. What he did was textbook manipulation, stripping away Nesta’s autonomy because she didn’t fit into his perfect vision of what recovery should look like.

8. Forcing Recovery on Nesta – Ignoring Trauma Let’s not sugarcoat this: Rhysand locked up a woman who was using drinking as a coping mechanism and basically said, “Tough luck, you’re staying here until you fix yourself.” That's not helping; that’s punishing someone for their trauma. Nesta was in pain, lashing out and struggling to deal with what happened to her. Did she need help? Absolutely. But instead of offering her real emotional support, Rhys just forced her into a recovery program that suited his standards and timeline, not hers.

What makes this even worse is that Nesta was self-harming through drinking, and instead of addressing the root cause of her pain, Rhysand and his inner circle chose to control her like she was a problem that needed to be fixed, not a person who needed to be understood. There’s nothing noble about that.

9. Rhysand’s Hypocrisy – Tamlin vs. Himself This is where Rhysand’s hypocrisy really shines. He condemned Tamlin for being controlling, and Feyre (rightfully) left that toxic environment. But Rhys turns around and does the same thing to Nesta, and instead of being held accountable for it, he gets celebrated for “taking action.” How does that even make sense? It's such a double standard that it's almost laughable. Tamlin’s actions were wrong, but Rhysand’s were just as bad, if not worse, because he knew better. He knew what it felt like to be controlled, yet he did it anyway.

10. Stop Giving Rhys a Pass People need to stop giving Rhysand a pass for his behavior. He gets away with literal torture, manipulation, locking people up, and trampling over others' boundaries because he’s good at hiding it behind the facade of “protecting his court.” He’s not the hero people make him out to be. He’s just as flawed and fucked up as the people he claims to be better than.

At the end of the day, locking someone up—whether it’s Feyre in the Spring Court or Nesta in the House of Wind—is a violation of their autonomy. Rhysand isn't some hero swooping in to save the day. He's a controlling ruler who just happens to be good at spinning the narrative in his favor.

[charcubed]

"What did we do wrong?" "I don't know."

🙋🏻 I think I might.

It's the hot cocoa.

Or rather… it's Loki semi-unintentionally siding with Sylvie over Mobius.

In this episode, that's the tipping point. And so is lack of trust.

What we just watched is the version where things go very wrong and they fail.

But here's the delightful part to remember: things had to go wrong exactly like this, so eventually things can go very right. Because as "wrong" as this was, it had at least one purpose: Loki pruning himself.

That being said... "What's wrong?"

We've got a list.

-Timely's gone.

-Miss Minutes is back (and so is Renslayer).

-Dox and her team are dead.

Now work it backwards.

Miss Minutes / Renslayer get in, Brad is freed, and Dox and her team are killed. D-90 isn't there.

Why isn't he there?

He was sent to be with Victor.

D-90 is killed and Victor is taken at the hot cocoa machine, which delays everything.

Why are they at that machine?

Because Mobius got cocoa.

Why did Mobius get hot cocoa?

Because he wanted pie, but Sylvie yelled at him.

And when Loki didn't defend him in that crucial moment and actually walked away from him instead, Mobius simply got hot cocoa by himself as a pick-me-up.

Therefore: Lokius is the tipping point.

What did they do wrong?

What happened?

Loki and Mobius were separated and weren't on the same page. THAT'S what happened. And so, everything fell apart.

Words – or the lack of them, in Loki's case above when he didn't defend Mobius – can change everything.

For good or for bad.

(These shots are back to back:)

Lack of trust is also why things fall apart.

Sylvie attacks Mobius because he walks away, trusting the work to O.B. and Casey and Victor.

She can't fathom that. She sees it as a weakness. But it's one of his greatest strengths, and it's their only way forward.

It's also part of the "trust for others" theme that's been present from the very first episode of the show, and it's a primary lesson that Loki's first had to learn through his relationship with and love for Mobius.

And the necessity of trust is showcased throughout this episode in other places. Sylvie accuses Loki of putting a lot of faith in the others, and simultaneously she keeps talking about the TVA as a corrupted place / institution instead of seeing the individual people capable of change.

But Loki explains to her that it's about the people. He lists the names of his new family – the people he trusts – as being the heart of things. What's worth saving and worth fighting for.

Brad and Dox are mirroring the trust theme here too, of course.

Brad doesn't trust B-15, and he doesn't pick trusting or aligning with anyone. He dooms Dox and the others to die.

But she sees the big picture and is willing to die with integrity rather than betray the PEOPLE of the TVA.

And Victor?

He says he doesn't trust anyone… but then he chooses to change. With O.B., he chooses to have a partner.

(Not dissimilar to the ways we've seen Loki change over the show, too.)

And were it not for the ~hot cocoa,~ in THIS regard, things were going "according to plan."

So as Victor says in the season 2 trailer in a clip we haven't heard yet (!!!): they have to "make the hard choice," of course.

Trust each other, work to fix what's broken, have hope, and STAY.

And Loki and Mobius, the personification of chaos and order in balance, HAVE to stay together or it turns to shit.

Loki can't turn into a better leader if he ends up being Who Remains all by himself. He's gonna need his partner and the rest of his people for the TVA to truly change.

But how are they gonna do that if they all just blew up? Lmao.

Well… that part of the theory's a work in progress.

But this involves both butterfly effects and time loops. Somehow we'll likely be going backwards to earlier versions of them that will be trying again.

And depending on just how far back they go… Loki and Mobius' influence on each other may be a snake eating its own tail, just like Ouroboros and Victor.

Regardless, pretty sure Mobius is correct here. As he tends to be, lol.

It's gonna be Loki's turn. God of Mischief becoming the Loki Who Remains that Mobius needs, etc.

And it always comes down to the two of them at the heart of things, somehow.

Last thing:

I'm not convinced those versions of them all survived the blast that happened because of these wrong turns, to be honest with you.

But if anyone did… the gods did.

And they're (hopefully) not gonna make the same mistakes twice.

---

Originally posted as a thread on Twitter here.

My other Loki posts on Tumblr are under the tag "chars loki posts."

[mousegard]

when it comes to the relationship between rhea and edelgard i think a lot of people have pointed out that in a way edelgard represents rhea's greatest failure, but i don't think they really get what that failure was in the first place. because yeah the church failed to cultivate and maintain its relationship to the adrestian empire and turned a blind eye to the slithers and allowed the crest experiments that changed the course of edelgard's life to happen, but the actual failure of rhea that created edelgard was her past as a failed revolutionary.

when nemesis elevated himself and the ten elites to the rulers of fodlan and laid the foundation of its modern crest system and aristocracy, she became a leading figure in wilhelm's revolutionary movement. but when the work was done, the nascent adrestian empire and church of seiros made a choice to maintain and uphold the social order nemesis created and become its new defenders instead of offering something better to the people of fodlan. that all too common revolutionary outcome of "meet the new boss, same as the old boss." and fire emblem three houses suggests a reason why this happens—because as much as seiros could care for and about humans like wilhelm, she never had the plight of humanity in the forefront of her mind. during the war of heroes, her priority was revenge against nemesis.

that's the deciding factor that separates edelgard and rhea. they are both people who looked at what happened to themselves and their families and said "i won't let this happen to anyone ever again." but edelgard, who has every right to seek revenge against the people who wronged her, never does—she even refuses to execute duke aegir for treason (which can have disastrous consequences in certain routes)—and she always keeps her overarching goal of creating a more free and equitable social order for humanity at the forefront of her mind.

in fact the entire reason edelgard takes up arms against the church of seiros is because 1200 years ago seiros had the chance to do the right thing and tear down an oppressive system and didn't. there are many ways in which the corruption of the adrestian empire, the noble fixation on crests, and the influence of those who slither in the dark represent the failures of the church of seiros' governance over fodlan that compel edelgard to take up arms, but it all stems from seiros' initial and foundational failure to do what edelgard now seeks to accomplish.

those who slither in the dark wanted edelgard to be a new nemesis, rhea wanted byleth to be a new sothis, and yet edelgard and byleth's arc in crimson flower is, essentially, to instead become who seiros and wilhelm failed to be over 1000 years ago

[frozenjokes]

mumbo killsalot jumbo kills.. a lot.

Mumbo was a monster.

He’d always been a monster, born- well, Mumbo wasn’t sure if he could say he was born or even created.. He existed to take, wilt, consume. He remembered all of it as well, the beginning of his existence, atoms, sickness, taking until he could grow, change, match to his taste, then take and change all over again.

Mumbo did not used to think or feel. He was not big enough to think, only atoms, all he cared to do was grow.

Innocent enough. With most things, that was the goal.

And then he did grow. From a thing, he became a bigger thing, sharing bigger instincts, bigger thoughts, bigger feelings. But something must have gone wrong, DNA or otherwise getting corrupted, switched around, volatile as it was in the first place; Mumbo knew it was wrong, because he had always, always been cruel.

An animal was not a monster for eating. An animal was not even a monster if she killed more than she could consume; it was instinct to kill, to keep for yourself, to fight and defend and take. All she wanted want to live and grow, and it did not concern her what she had to do to accomplish those things at the most optimal conditions. Animals were brutal. They ate each other alive, sacrificed their young, abandoned their fellows in greatest times of need, but these things were necessary, after all, they had evolved to be this way for a reason.

Mumbo, however, did not operate the same way. He was drawn to brutality, relished in it, invented new methods for terrorizing victims of his assault. He was much like a cat in that way, playing with his food, waiting until the doomed thing was too tired to continue fighting, too fatigued from blood loss to continue struggling before smashing skulls when all hope had drained from its limbs. Hope, that was quite a tool. Hope drew out suffering, made meals out of scraps. Carefully, intricately leading a creature into a false sense of security, letting it move on just long enough to relax, then sending homes and burrows crashing down, snatching it up in his claws and consuming every morsel of dread. Betrayal, too, was delicious. A rabbit did not expect a fellow from her own warren to corner her, snatch her throat and eat her whole, still struggling, still breathing. Mumbo went through phases of engorging himself on whole societies, and when he got bored, finding some place new, starting again, innocent and bloodless.

You might expect his first human kill to be from the body of a monster, creations known for their single minded instinct to kill for the sake of it, but Mumbo did not like monsters for that very reason. They were not social, they did not form attachments, and they cared very little whether they lived or died. They made poor meals, nothing but meat and bones, and while Mumbo craved meat just as much as he craved the drawn out cry of senseless suffering, for some reason, monsters never sated him. Perhaps one without the other was no good; there was no point picking bones without the pleasure of a scream as he crushed them in the first place.

No, the first time he killed a human, he had taken the form of a dog.

Never, ever in Mumbo’s existence had he encountered a creature that freely approached a predator, a wolf nearly its size, snarling and circling and ready to lunge. It was a lucky thing that Mumbo did not mean to attack yet, only to scare; he had been waiting for this human to run so he could begin his chase.

It never did.

It cooed and spoke softly and opened its arms for Mumbo to tear it to pieces, but Mumbo did not, not yet, instead stilling in a state of utter bewilderment. He waited for it to run. It did not. It pulled something from a pocket in its clothes, a cookie it looked like, and threw him a crumb instead. With nothing else to do, Mumbo licked it up. The human took a few steps back, not fearful, but delighted, patting its legs encouragingly and throwing another crumb to the ground, further away this time. Mumbo got to his paws, and soon enough, he was following the human to its home.

This had simply never happened before. Even animals that worked together did not tend to share the same spaces for long, especially not hunters and hunted, so this just did not make any sense! Mumbo had to stay, had to find out more, and what he discovered was that humans, at least this one, grew incredible attachments. Mumbo was not the first animal to be lured to this human’s home; far from it. There were at least fifteen other dogs kept together in a fenced in area outside, one they could easily jump if they so chose, but this was not the case. Mumbo was stunned at how much care the human afforded him and the others over the following week, how it brought them all meat, bones, anything a typical dog could want, which seemed to sate the others, uninterested in killing the human when it provided so much meat. They did not care to hunt anymore, not when their needs were met.

Mumbo had been utterly baffled. How could a creature lose the will to hunt, choosing instead to whine and beg at the hands of another? Mumbo tried it, out of curiosity more than anything. Would he too prefer this? The answer after two weeks was a definitive no. So after coming to this conclusion, officially ready to consume and become the human that had nurtured him for the past weeks, Mumbo killed all of its dogs. Put simply, he just wanted to know what would happen. What the human would do, say, if it would even care. Despite seeing its attachments firsthand, Mumbo didn’t really expect it to. He’d never seen anything keep pets before, he did not know why resources would be allocated for such a task. So when the human left for the day, Mumbo systematically tore the garden apart, killing and consuming each and every dog, leaving nothing but the stains of their blood in the grass.

Mumbo sensed unease when the human worked its way up the bend, hearing no howling and barking and whining.

And then, stronger than Mumbo had ever felt anything in his entire existence, he felt the human’s deep, pulsing, utterly overwhelming distress, so powerful it nearly knocked Mumbo off his feet. He was drowning in its grief, its anguish, it filled every sense, danced across his skin like electricity, set every single one of his hairs on end, bled out of his ears, mouth, and nose.

And then it saw him, white fur stained just as red as the grass. It screamed. It ran. Had it seen death in his eyes? Had it known? Mumbo had yet to decide if this magnitude of emotional gluttony was a good or bad thing when he gave chase. Smashing through the slammed door, scrabbling on the hardwood floor, snapping at the feet of the human as it tripped on the stairs, just barely squeaking away, but not for long. Mumbo tore it clean in half in its own bedroom, soaking the sheets. And then he started to change.

And then, taking on a complexity he’d never come close to experiencing, he began to scream. It was so much, too much, advanced versions of emotions he’d never dreamed he could feel in his entire existence. Even the new intricacy of his thoughts was utterly too much; he felt guilt and longing and loneliness and ambition and disgust and shame; how miserable it was to be human, thinking and feeling so strongly all of the time. He couldn’t do it, he needed to escape, so he changed to an existence with no brain, with hardly anything at all. He let himself float, particles in the soil. Back to one goal, simply, to grow. So small, so meaningless, he couldn’t even think to be cruel.

But the taste of humanity was still on his lips, as soon as he’d grown enough to remember it. As frightening, as terrible as it was to be human, to eat a human; as overwhelming and as all consuming that it was, soon, taking another human life was all Mumbo could think about.

So he did. He did it again and again, ravenous, until no other prey would suit him. No other creature made him bleed this pleasure, no other being sated him so completely.

Well.. not completely. No. Mumbo would always want more.

It was a long time before he was brave enough to become human again. More years until he tried a third time, and again, years until a fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh attempt. When the human existence was so painful, Mumbo didn’t even know why he wanted to experience it, but regardless, he could hold the form for longer and longer each time, growing stronger, learning more, even in the face of his inevitable collapse. Soon, after over a hundred tries, he’d managed to speak to his first person as a human himself, but he did not last much longer before taking their life.

It had been a swift, near painless ordeal. There had been no suffering. And yet.

The emotion, the raw energy released from his own heart at killing one of his kind, at the horrified screams and bouts of terror from onlookers; Mumbo couldn’t even finish the meal. Couldn’t even eat the meat.

After that, it was a countless number of days, months, years even, before he could bear to touch a human form again. He still took great pleasure in killing them, though he always used less intelligent forms to do this work. These, perhaps, were his most gluttonous days, drowning himself in dread and terror, taking until he could not stand to take any longer, eating until he could not move. Death, at least for humans, was not permanent here, so sometimes Mumbo would delight himself in stalking the same human over and over, watching its terror grow until it disappeared altogether, leaving only the ruins of unfinished homes. Mumbo always wondered where they went. If they only had so many lives before never returning, or if they were in hiding, somehow beyond his reach.

That curiosity was what pushed him to try being human again. Not hunger. Not gluttony. This time, getting to know the people of this world was not a matter of preparing a meal, but a matter of knowledge. Of learning. The emotion and the attachments it wrought were frightening, but with a little time, became less overwhelming. He did not like them still, could not hold a human form for very long, but it was worth it for the pursuit of knowledge.

And that was when Mumbo learned he could leave. That there were other places, other worlds, and his existence had only started in one of them.

Later, Mumbo learned others had limits on where they could or couldn’t go. Mumbo did not have these same restrictions; in fact, he could go wherever he wanted and no one could stop him, keep him out, and very rarely could he be overpowered.

He liked small servers. Stalking the residents as vicious beasts, taking their fear, their lives, until they stopped coming back. He entertained himself with this for a while, and all was well, that is, until he’d driven every person from the server he currently resided and had to find somewhere new.

To move from place to place, Mumbo had to take a ‘player’ form, an important distinction, because soon it became quite apparent that he was not the only inhuman being taking residence in these infinite series of planes. Regardless, typically he needed to take a human-esc form to travel, which wouldn’t be an issue if he didn’t have to face the magnitude of what he had done every single time.

As boars, bulls, and rams, Mumbo did not care for humanity. He did not feel guilt or shame, he did not fight the insatiable shadow that pulled him to consume, he simply did as he pleased, unthinking, rarely feeling. When he was human, he cared. The human did not like the shadow of cruel desire that stuck to the soles of his shoes, but human did not want to move on to the next world, the human did not want this to happen again. The human did not want this to happen, because it knew at the end of every meal it would have to face the regret caused by its shadow’s disregard.

But the human was still hungry. It still shared the cravings of its shadow, however, in an act of defiance, upon arriving in each new world, the human would linger. The human would build, work, make friends, and play games, and it would not eat to spite its shadow. But its shadow did not play fair or nice. Its shadow carved holes in its stomach, played tricks on its eyes, spoke of sweet horrors that would relieve its pain, if only it were to give in.

Physically, starvation did not make Mumbo any weaker. Even while living off scraps for years, Mumbo never succumbed to hunger-related deaths, though perhaps that was because his mind deteriorated far faster than his health.

To his mind, he always succumbed. Even worse, he relished the feeling. Mumbo the human would disappear, replaced by whatever predator suited him. He would feast. He would drive them all away. And then when it was all over, he’d be forced to reckon with it. The things he’d done to people he called friends. And he’d have to move on, because there was no more food that satisfied him. He’d have to move on, knowing it would happen again.

Often, he wondered if he would ever feel full. Feel sated. It was a fleeting hope that this would all end, Mumbo knew it well, but still his mind wandered. The closest he’d come to fullness was murdering that human in his own human body, but even then, that was more akin to nausea, though some days, he wanted to experiment. To see what would happen if he tried again.

But Mumbo couldn’t. He didn’t want to do that again. If anything, he deserved to starve for the things he’d done to ease the hunger, retreating to the peace of minds unburdened by this severe and overwhelming shame.

But he would not stop. He would not even return to the torture of animals; he couldn’t, not unless he returned himself to atoms, slowly working his way through growth and evolution until he could think again, remember, change back to bears and wolves and bulls, creatures big enough to hunt and terrorize the people at the center of his want. The only meals that felt enough, or, well, as close as enough as Mumbo could get. In the case of animals, he had no choice but to chase the better meal.

But what about as a human?

Mumbo could choose more easily as a human, he could decide not to kill, not to eat, but he’d never quite tried to only consume animals.

Humans ate animals all the time, it was not wrong. Mumbo knew very little about how he attained this information, the difference between right and wrong, but these sorts of things came with all changes, helping him discern social cues. But humans ate animals. So Mumbo could eat animals too. He could make them fear him, chase them, and it would have to be enough, though if it wasn’t, he deserved to feel empty, dead, justice for the lives he’d disrupted, driven from their homes.

Hermitcraft was the longest he’d managed to hold this habit. Mumbo had not been invited here; he never was, but the inhabitants seemed to forget this after a while, not that they could do anything about it. This was the place Mumbo had chosen; a small server compared to many, but something beautiful, something he took a great liking to while scouting it out. He enjoyed the community, friends, all of it, but there was a comfortable distance as well, one that would allow Mumbo to get up to whatever he wanted with little interference.

Though, the more time passed, year to year, Mumbo was more and more aware he was not the only person around with peculiar habits, particularly, gruesome and/or unsavory habits, which was as much of a relief as it could have been. It made Mumbo a little more comfortable, though no less careful.

He would not have anyone believe he was anything less than human. He would not let them know what he wanted with them, desires almost as overwhelming as the blast of feeling he’d been hit with on his first human kill.

It was a terrifying kind of intensity. Mumbo wasn’t sure how much longer he would last here. Rapidly, it felt like he had been slipping. Inhuman hunts just weren’t enough. But it was fine. It was fine. If he needed to escape to another world, he would, just like he’d done in the last two years. He tried not to think about how little time had passed since then, since his hiatus; how quickly the ache of starvation had returned. His shadow didn’t want other worlds. It wanted this one.

Maybe Mumbo could do it at the end of the season. Maybe once they were all ready to move on anyway, that’s when he could take everything he needed, then move on to new worlds and do it all over again.

(But he was starving now, he wanted to consume the world now, and it hadn’t even existed for that long; he’d have to wait months, maybe over a year, and every day he felt his resolve dwindling.)

(Would he start with Grian first? Take his closest friend, revel in this betrayal of trust? It was not that Grian would know it was Mumbo who was stalking him, Mumbo who took the form of any predator best suited for the job, but deep at the back of his mind, Mumbo would know, and he would take great pleasure in it.)

(Or maybe Grian would know. It would not be the first time a past friend had connected Mumbo’s disappearance with the monsters at their backs, gouging, tearing, delighting in their spilled blood.)

(Mumbo hoped Grian would recognize him. He loved when victims called his name.)

The thought left a pit in his stomach. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to go. But he did. He needed to. But he wouldn’t, not yet, and for all his fear of collapsing to the whims of his shadow, Mumbo did not lack control. Mumbo was not possessed, he was just hungry. He could grow up and deal with it. He would not touch a hair on anyone heres’ heads, at least not with his own hands. He’d certainly slipped a couple times in the eighth season, a little in the ninth even, but never directly. His fingers would never touch anyone elses’ throats.

And no one would ever know.

“Hello, Mumbo!” Someone’s voice came from above him where Mumbo was stewing over his own starvation, in a truly foul mood, though he didn’t intend on letting anyone else know that. He looked up, and despite his mood he laughed, staring up as Cub floated slowly down on his elytra, so slow he was hardly falling. Cub was not a person Mumbo often talked with, both of them airing on the shier side, not to mention somewhat conflicting personalities. Cub was the kind of person who was very free with his desires, even the unsavory ones, dismissing inhibitions and indulging whenever he saw fit, which was enough to set the hairs on the back of Mumbo’s neck on end. In fairness, Scar was the same way, but he was warmer, easier to talk to, and if Mumbo was being honest, sought Mumbo out more than Mumbo went to him. But as passing friends, he and Cub got on fine, neither of them missing the other if they didn’t talk for months at a time.

“What’s happened to you, mate? You get stuck up there?”

“No, no! This is the new thing, Mumbo, the new trend. Everyone’s doing it.”

Mumbo snorted, skeptical, “You’re the first person I’ve seen.”

“It’s a new trend, Mumbo, new. You’d best jump on it before it really picks up, you’ll be in with the coolest hermits around.”

“Ah. I understand.”

Cub smirked, raising an eyebrow as he pretended to miss Mumbo’s sarcasm, “Well then, I just so happen to have a shulker right here full of potions, even a spare elytra if you need it. Free of charge.”

Mumbo shook his head with a small laugh disguised poorly as a sigh, “No, I think I’m okay. Are you visiting everyone like this? Good luck with your trendsetting if that’s the case.”

“Oh, no, I’m not here to- one- give it a second-“ Cub waited until he hit the ground, still laying face down for some reason (if the purpose of face planting in the grass was to make Mumbo laugh, Cub had certainly succeeded), then getting to his knees and brushing off his khakis.

Mumbo clapped, amused, and Cub acknowledged him with a pleased nod, straightening up.

“Scar and I are about to tear each other to shreds and eat the pieces afterward, but he played dirty last time, and the winner- who kills the other first- gets a better share, so I thought I might invite you, really catch him off guard. You can share the winnings of course, I’m less about the prize and more about seeing Scar’s face when he realizes he’s outnumbered.”

Mumbo blanched.

There was no reason for Cub to be here, asking him this. Mumbo was human, as far as Cub knew Mumbo was human, and this was- this wasn’t-

Mumbo swallowed his anger, or maybe dread. He didn’t have to be rude about this. He knew well that Cub and Scar got up to all sorts of.. vex.. shenanigans.. and this was part of it. Cub knew Mumbo was friends with Scar, and he certainly knew that Grian and him were close, so given they were all working together in the permit office, well- Mumbo didn’t really know, maybe Cub just wanted to get to know him. Extend a vex offering of friendship.

Cub didn’t seem to care about the long silence, staring at Mumbo just as eagerly as he had been the moment he’d extended the invitation.

“That sounds unfair.” Mumbo tried, hoping to let Cub down easy.

“That doesn’t bother me,” Cub replied evenly, no less eager.

“Well I wouldn’t want to do that to poor Scar, no, I don’t think so. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“No?” Cub cocked his head, maybe curious, or maybe amused, “He’s not so innocent.”

Suddenly, perhaps brought on by a wave of hunger induced nausea, Mumbo no longer wanted to dance about the issue. “I don’t eat people, Cub,” he said firmly, anger or maybe fear spiking under his skin, his shadow screaming in protest, but he ignored it.

“You don’t?”

Mumbo was having a lot of trouble telling if the question was genuine or if Cub was just pretending. There was a little too much intention under his voice, which Mumbo took as a threat.

“I don’t.”

“Well you could just help me kill him?”

“I don’t kill people either.”

“That’s not true. We all kill each other.” Cub did sound genuine this time, confusion so clear that it made Mumbo feel guilty for assuming malintention, but at the same time, this was really a conversation he didn’t want to have.

“I don’t, Cub. I don’t.”

“Do you want to watch, then?”

Mumbo struggled not to be frustrated, but he was fighting a losing battle. “No, Cub! I do not want to watch. I want nothing to do with this.”

Cub deflated at that, quieting to the point where Mumbo almost felt bad, but he didn’t feel bad, because Cub was being ridiculous and honestly quite rude, and for goodness’s sake Mumbo did not want to have any part in this!

“Well,” Cub said finally, shrugging off his dejection, “You know where to find me.” His elytra flicked to life on his back, Cub producing rockets as he turned to leave. But he lingered, as if waiting for something. Mumbo did not say goodbye. He did not ‘know where to find Cub,’ nor would he want to find Cub in the near future for any reason.

Cub flew off.

Mumbo watched. Ah right. He’d been planning some landscaping before he’d gotten distracted in the spiral of his own mind, hm.. maybe he could ask Scar for some advice?

No. Not Scar. Not now. Mumbo would wait, at least a day to be sure. Maybe a couple days. Just to be safe.

[radio-ronpa]

Disney I want songs for each V3 character, go!

I got this a few days ago and I've been ruminating on it. I think I've finally settled on them? Plus notes on why I picked that song.

Here's the rules: Has to be from an official Disney Animated Classic (no Pixar, live action, or straight to vid sequels). Must occur within the run time of animation (no songs that only appear in the credits, ala True to Your Heart from Mulan). Only one song can be used from a particular film.

Let's fucking goooooo.

1. Angie Yonaga - Give a Little Whistle (Pinocchio)

Have you ever seen Jiminy Cricket and Atua in the same place? Think about it.

2. Gonta Gokuhara - The Bare Necessities (The Jungle Book)

Optimistic, joyous, and appreciative of all of life's moments, even if they are very small.

3. Himiko Yumeno - The Next Right Thing (Frozen 2)

If there was a DRV3 stage musical, this would be the number she does at the end of Trial 3. It's literally perfect.

4. Kaede Akamatsu - Good Company (Oliver and Company)

The scene with this song in the movie is literally a piano lesson, and it's about being friends and having faith in that. How could I not?

5. Kaito Momota - Go the Distance (Hercules)

Oh, I want to be a hero because I feel like I don't belong anywhere and I want to be strong enough to give my friends good hugs? Herc and Kaito are both beautiful himbos.

6. Kiibo - Strangers Like Me (Tarzan)

I mean, Keebs is real Pinocchio sometimes, but I started crying imagining him to this song. He's so earnest and I love that for him.

7. Kirumi Tojo - Very Good Advice (Alice in Wonderland)

Classic, underappreciated, and sad as fuck.

8. Kokichi Ouma - The World's Greatest Criminal Mind (The Great Mouse Detective)

Look, this song is just fun and chaotic and delighted by its own mischief. There's so many ways you can go with Kokichi, but I had to pick this one for sheer giggles.

9. Korekiyo Shinguji - Never Smile at a Crocodile (Peter Pan)

JUST READ THE FUCKING LYRICS.

10. Maki Harukawa - Reflection (Mulan)

It's cliche. It's also true.

11. Miu Iruma - The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers (The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh)

Kind of unhinged and still somehow endearing. Miu Iruma is bounchy flouncy fun fun fun fun fun.

12. Rantaro Amami - Thomas O'Malley Cat (The Aristocats)

The fucking swagger. The worldliness. The feet that can't stop moving. (Of course Rantaro is my favorite character. I adored that cat.)

13. Ryoma Hoshi - Not in Nottingham (Robin Hood)

For the love of god, somebody hug that man.

14. Shuichi Saihara - This Wish (Wish)

If The Next Right Thing is Trial 3 of the DRV3 Disney musical, This Wish is the end of Trial 6. This is Shuichi standing up and telling the villain that they're not going to give in to despair, honoring Kaede's wish with his own. Plus, it's a princess song. I gotta give the main protag the princess song.

15. Tenko Chabashira - Surface Pressure (Encanto)

Tenko doesn't have a complex about being strong and defending people, what gave you that idea?

16. Tsumugi Shirogane - Mad Madam Mim (The Sword in the Stone)

Using your powers of shapeshifting to delight in causing despair and gloom? Can't relate.

This was a wild three hours of research and spreadsheets, and it was delightful fun to do.

Thanks, anon.

[cynthiav06]

I am obsessed with Epic, the musical as all people are and should be.

One of my absolute favorite parts (I love everything about it, the lyrical genius, the phenomenal melodies, the best cast) about the Saga itself is Athena and Odysseus's relation.

There are lots of opinions on how Athena doesn't treat Odysseus as a person but as a property, which I think is slightly misinterpreted. Odysseus is the only one in the whole Greek mythology to be so favored by Athena. She sees her very self reflected in him and hence sees him as an extension of herself given that she takes time and effort to teach Odysseus everything she can.

Yes, Odysseus gets ahead of himself and gets sentimental of sorts, but in the end, the mistake that causes his initial falling out with her is also something that mirrors Athena. Hubris is Athena's fatal flaw, and it's the same for Odysseus.

Athena's greatest ability is critical thinking in the heat of the moment, something Odysseus himself lives by and represents.

Gods are not flawless. No, they are every bit flawed, and deep deep down, they know it.

To Athena Odysseus giving into his flaws is a slap to the face because despite knowing her own and knowing how Odysseus reflects hers, she fails to make him overcome it.

He is also perhaps the only person to have insulted Athena to her face and lived to tell the tale without any repercussions because she knows he tells the truth but most of all because she accepts that if anyone has the right to reprimand her its Odysseus someone who has lived by her principles.

Even after their falling out, Athena defends him against the Olympians, and despite everything, Odysseus does his best to stick to Athena's teachings and doesn't hate her.

Athena does her best to advice Telemacus and even calls him her friend.

Throughout the Greeks myths, it is cemented that Athena and Odysseus had a strong relationship and were equals more so than a hero and his patron

The most ironically beautiful thing was that I was rereading Percy Jackson and Heroes of Olympus books to find Odysseus references through Mark of Athena and the part where Annabeth finds Athena at the subway, lost and frazzled,turned into Minerva due to the Roman and Greek demigods being together.

Minerva is nothing like Athena, she is Athena who is bitter and enraged and consumed with vengeance against the Romans who attacked her city and turned her into a just a Goddess of Wisdom and Crafts taking from her the domain of war and strategy. And in this emotionally heightened, unstable state that goes against her very nature, Annabeth hears her mumbling, "If Odysseus were here, he would know the way, he would know how best to help.."

And that to me is so raw and beautiful that in this terrible state that's basically a mental breakdown, The Goddes of Wisdom and Strategy thinks that Odysseus would be able to help. A mortal, yes, a great hero but still a mortal, and help in what? In guiding Athena herself as she tries to find her way back to her place of power, in guiding the lost goddess of wisdom.

Through the whole Percy Jackson series, it is repeatedly iterated how Odysseus is Athena's most and all-time favorite.

I also like how those books portray Odysseus as he was, a great hero and the most loyal husband.

I just had to rant on this. It's kept me awake for so long.

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

Overlord Power

Sometimes I like to ponder about the Hazbin overlords. How the rise to power and such. This has been bouncing in my head for almost 2 months now.

Rosie was said to be pretty weak in terms of power compare to the other overlords. I think her main strength is she may have the most numbers of loyal souls that follow her. I'm not talking about souls that she owns (tho I think she is one of, if not, the one who owns the most). But souls (cannibal town etc) still follow her leadership despite that they own their own souls. Rosie just has that trusting motherly that breaks down a person defense and just feels safe with, looking pass and getting over the fear of her possibly eating you. So Rosie has the greatest army. One that isn't afraid to tear out your heart and literally eat it. Which is intimidating. As much as I love Rosie and she a formidable opponent but one that can meet their match. She only does not because no one has reason too and don't want to be eaten alive by her loyal supporters.

Not much is known about Zeezi, but I assume her great size came with great physical strength. I think she maybe be the strongest and toughest physically out of all the overlords. She basically a tank. Takes an extraordinary effort to have something pierce her hide. Not to mention she she probably has razor sharp claws and teeth with a powerful jaw and a powerful tail to swipe with.

Alastor is overwhelming strong magic, evasiveness and ruthless reputation. Alastor doesn't fight physically and rely on magic and the ability to evade. With contorting his body to unimaginable and impossible angles while remaining balance and able to slip away and disappear into shadows he near impossible to land a hit on. However if he does fight physically (beyond swinging his microphone) I think he rely on his powerful deer legs more then upper body strength for punches. His kicks are powerful along with stronger jumping ability compared to other sinners. His hands are more for raking his claws at the opponent flesh then have then clench in a fist. I'm guessing he has the least amount of soul unless he can acquire the souls of the overlords he slain but I don't think that's the case. While the Vees like to see numbers, their contracts are more quantity, while Alastors is quality.

I think Alastor rise in power is more brute power while the others is mostly building an empire/territory before climbing steadily higher on status. He doesn't seem to offer a service for souls to be make deals with or be manipulated by (Tho perhaps his broadcast/airwaves can do something but something he doesn't seem to utilized) Souls makes deals with him to hide from others behind his great power if one is on his good graces.

Carmilla is all defensive. At least, her climb to power was. She more than a formidable fighter but she rarely needs to fight and when she does it to defend. She rose to power by taking risk during exterminations and collecting the ultimate weaponry, angelitic steel. She collected them before the angels were called back, so she was the first to fetch them and monopolize the material. Armed with impressive amount of weapons that can permanently kill anyone, its a risk no one dare to take to challenge her. One miscalculation, you are unable to recover from. As the number of souls she owned grew so did her weaponry count. So, I think Carmilla main strength is her intimidating wall of angellist steel that can cause permanent death.

Zestial is a mystery but as he a spider it may be related. I'm mainly guessing his main power beside patience, is poison. Going by he a spider, which can be venomous, but his color scheme screams poison to me. Thanks Disney and other medias that ingrained that color green to associate poison with. He also appears to be very patient. So that another point leaning towards a poison power. He can just wait out for an opportunity to strike and wait for it to take hold.

Tho, I wouldn't be surprised he had some type of illusionary magic to trick people senses with. I don't think he does...just won't be surprised. With his shakespearean speech and I can see him being theatrical, I can see him being live performance theme. (stage illusions-that's where the illusion theme comes in. ) We already have other entertainment overlords. Radio, Television, social media...why not live performance of staged plays? The medium fits for the oldest overlord alive.

I think he would have a great amount of souls with his longevity in Hell helps increase the collection. I don't think he very active with dealings anymore. He still active in politics but beside that, I sort of view him as "retired". Similar in a way of a obscenely rich guy living off his wealth, Zestiel is living off from previous deals and souls and remains more than comfortable. Tho he still dabble here and there but overall just cruising and partaking in politics align with his own interest. Despite being less active compare to the other overlords he still very powerful and most of his "tricks" are forgotten about since he hasn't had the need to use them, granting him his use of his power almost as an element of surprise. For Example, we know how Vox and Alastor powers are like since they use it often, while Zestial is more mysterious.

Velvette I assume is persuasion. Her main role in the Vees is to influence people to the Vees agenda, while along her own personal interest in fashion. I can't guess what her demonic powers would entailed but I imagine it some type of influence. As that's her main role in the Vees, as well as the other Vees have their own way to influence people. Vox hypnotism and Vals pheromones.

Vox is manipulating and monopoly. His electricity ability is strong couple with he can evade with it. But it not what caused him to grow in power, it kept him from bring brought down. He raised by his businessman personality. The ability to charm and sell things like a sleazy car salesman paired with creating product that majority of the population uses (and causing an almost dependency on it and control news outlets) and monopolize it. Using his products paired with his hyponism he has the greatest reach over the pride ring population, which includes souls he doesn't own.

The other part is with the increase reach he had in the pride ring, it increased his ability to surveillance and information gather. Information a very strong asset. Not only can it be used to strategize or decipher patterns on his targets as he surveillance them. Guarded information can be very valuable and traded in deals like we seen with Alastor.

Val is working off people desperation. While all the overlords work off this I think Val pretty much preys on it much more than the other overlords. I think with the other overlords *most of the time*(however, they will play a long con ((Alastor) or if an opportunity falls on their lap, they will go for it) desperate people approach them for deals that they hope is not a bite more than they can chew but Val, seeks them out. Has them sign contracts while under the influence (Perhaps by Vals doing) and desperate for any means to solve their problems and gets them hooked on drugs and pheromones so they stay desperate for him to control.

Unname overlord: I really like his design but I assume he a strong magic user. Not as powerful as Alastor (But I think Alastor "cheated" by having a deal to grant him to be overwhelming in that sense) I lowkey see this overlord as the counterpart of Zeezi. So as she insanely strong physically, the unname guy is strong in magic abilities. He probably has will of wisp themed going by his skeletal and blue flame body.

Husker is easily by gambling. I can see how he can raise to power quickly with strong perception to read people and figure out their tells, and his ability of sleight of hand if he needs to cheat paired with that he mostly likely know how to count cards he was very hard to beat. He came to Hell with nothing but quickly betting his way to survive, turned into more into soul dealing and becoming an overlord. But as quickly as he gained it, he lost it.

I have some passing headcanons about Husk but I think Husk losing streak was something personal he was going through. I don't think anyone really managed to beat Husk if he was on his A game. I think Alastor is good with cards but he didn't beat Husk in cards to win souls. Particularly if Husk own soul was on the line. I think Husk was on friendly terms with Alastor and Husk made the deal with his soul to Alastor.

I think Husk downfall was he lost became heartbroken, or something trigger the memory of it that sent his in a self destructive, overly drunk depressive spiral. Going by the pilot "He lost the ability to love a long time ago" I just don't see how he can lose and lose continually, hand after hand, at his own game and house otherwise. The lost of the person he loved caused him to lose everything else in poor coping skills of self destruction.

I would like to hear other people's thoughts and opinions. Most of this is just me guessing and got the vibe of.

[drakaripykiros130ac]

“According to traditional Andal customs, a son comes before a daughter bla bla bla.”

I don’t know how many times I need to say this:

Tradition is NOT law.

At the time of Viserys’ reign, there was no succession law in place. Nowhere was it written that a woman cannot inherit the Iron Throne. If such a law existed, the Greens wouldn’t have hesitated to hiss about it for years. Not to mention that Viserys would have had to amend it.

Everyone just expected the King to choose his eldest son as heir. And then, Viserys decided to keep his daughter as heir even after a son was born to him. *gasp* + *Pikachu face* Unexpected…unheard of…shocking…but not against the law.

Because let’s be clear about something: what isn’t clearly illegal, is actually perfectly legal.

The Realm had no problem having Lady Jeyne Arryn as Lady of the Eyrie, Defender of the Vale and Warden of the East, a very powerful Paramount House. So what are we talking about here exactly?

A woman as ruler of a Kingdom was very much possible. Lady Jeyne was living proof of that.

As far as I know the only ones who actually had a problem with Rhaenyra inheriting the throne were the Hightowers and Vaemond Velaryon. Why? Because they had something to gain by contesting it.

The Hightowers were greedy and desperate for a chance to have their blood on the throne and Vaemond Velaryon, Corlys’ nephew (not his brother), wanted to take Driftmark for himself, and in order for that to happen, he needed to contest the legitimacy of Lucerys’ birth and by extension, Rhaenyra’s claim to the throne.

Rhaenyra had 53 Houses supporting her. 53. She also had the biggest population and the largest territories on her side: the North, the Vale, the Riverlands, the Iron Islands, half the Reach, and the Crownlands. Not to mention that the North and the Vale had the most powerful armies in the Realm.

Aegon only had 28 Houses, with his territories being the Stormlands, the Westerlands and half the Reach.

The great majority of the Realm had absolutely no problem with a woman taking the Iron Throne. The only ones loud about it were the Hightower snakes, and they didn’t even have a leg to stand on.

Not to mention that Rhaenyra was protected by the Widow’s Law. This is an actual law which protects the interests of the children from a first marriage in case the children’s parent remarries and has other children (idea of Queen Alysanne herself). According to this law, children from the first marriage cannot be disinherited in favor of children from a second marriage if there is no just cause. Since there is no succession law, and Rhaenyra was made heir before Aegon’s birth, in front of many Lords who swore to uphold her claim, she is the rightful Queen.

The Greens started an unnecessary war, which cost many innocent lives simply because they got greedy and refused to let the transition of power take its natural course…and in their stupidity, paved the way for the sons of Daemon Targaryen (their greatest enemy) to inherit the throne.

[youunravelme]

hi kenn!! happy 1k i’m so proud of u! 🩷🩷

i’m not sure if i’m allowed to use multiple prompts so feel free to just use one!!

“what the hell was that for?” + “how dare you speak to me that way?” aka angst with either tito or barzy whoever u feel like!! :) 🫂

you are for sure allowed t use multiple prompts! and what angsty prompts you have chosen dear god. BUT i had fun with this! SEND MORE ANGSTY PROMPTS (they will probably all end happily because i hate conflict but oh well). because this is a little angsty i put some warnings below:

warning: volatile relationship with family (i.e. your mom)

you weren't exactly sure how it started, but you knew the second mat slammed the front door that things had to be over.

right?

it's not like you wanted it to be, deep down you loved him but today, yesterday, you wanted to throttle him.

you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.

no you didn't.

you loved him.

god you loved him.

so why were you crying on the couch? why were your hands shaking? wasn't love enough? couldn't it be enough? shouldn't it be enough?

"what the hell was that for, jackass? you're just gonna go ape shit on anyone who so much as looks at me the wrong way? i can't believe you!"

"me? you can't believe me? you're just gonna let her talk to you like that and i have to sit and watch? i can't do that!"

"she's my mother, mat! i don't know what you want me to say!"

"i want you to say that how she talks to you is horrible and unacceptable. i want to hear you say that you deserve better than to be undermined and compared to other people by someone who is supposed to love you unconditionally." you refused to make eye contact with him, staring at his shoes instead. "will you at least look at me?"

"it was none of your business, you should've just kept your mouth shut."

"like hell i am!" he threw his hands up. "i don't let anyone talk about the people i love like that, especially the love of my life. and especially when that person is a grown ass woman."

looking back on it, you weren't sure why you reacted the way you did. in mat's defense (which was a side you took often), you wouldn't have tolerated anyone talking bad about him either.

so why did you accept it from your mom? why did you accept that behavior from her?

when you closed your eyes you could still hear her shriek "how dare you speak to me that way?" you could see the fire in her eyes and the ice in mat's.

you should've kept your mouth shut. should've thanked mat for defending you. should've hugged and kissed him when you got home for sticking up for you yet again.

but you let this stockholm syndrome grip your mother had on you destroy the greatest thing that had ever happened to you, possibly irrevocably.

your hands shook at the idea of losing him, at not wearing his jersey to games, at not curling up in bed while you traced shapes into his chest. your heart ached at the thought of no longer calling him, yours, at not belonging to him anymore at--

mat stormed back through the door, so hard that it creaked on its hinges. but he did the due diligence of shutting it much quieter than he had before.

he pointed at you, his hand was shaking and when you got a good look at him, his cheeks were wet and his eyes glistened.

"i love you," he said. "i will love you until my dying breath and that means not allowing people to talk shit about you. i don't care if it's my friends, my fans, my family or your mom. i won't have it. i love you too much to let someone tear you down. so i won't apologize for sticking up for you, i will never apologize for advocating for you, but i will apologize for yelling at you and letting my ego get the best of me. i never want to hurt you, so if i did that tonight, hear me when i say i am so sorry."

to say you were a blubbering mess by the end of his speech would've been an understatement. you all but launched yourself off the couch and into his arms, where he readily accepted you.

you sobbed into his chest while he rubbed his hands up and down your back as he pressed kisses into your hair.

"i'm sorry, i should've been grateful, i should've been--"

"she's your mom, baby, i get it. just know that i'm never gonna let her disrespect you again as long as i'm around, okay?" he pulled you back just to cradle your face in his hands. "i love you."

you gave him a watery smile right as he kissed your forehead. "i love you too."

[alisonthedeluluisback]

Rating movies about nazi germany I have watched

First of all, I want to make it clear that this isn't a professional review, it's only my opinion

I liked the proposal of the story being centered around a nazi family and the younger boy befriending a jew, but all of that goes down the drain due to the multiple historical inaccuracies: the children learned about nazism very early, so there is no way bruno would have been that innocent. Also, concentration camps wasn't of that much easy access. The appeal to emotion instead of actually building a deep plot also sucks. 5/10

I absolutely adored this movie, the plot is so deep, the construction around the persecution of Liesel's parents, her relationship with her adoptive parents, the brotherhood she had with the jew hiding in their house, her tough but sweet personality, her desire for knowledge. It was all so beautifully orchestrated, and also the historical accuracy>>>>>> 10/10

This movie will always be a classic for me. The way they portrayed nazis as they were, human, vulnerable, with a distorted view of the world but still seeking what they thought was the best. How they went deep down into the life in the bunker, the despair and hopelessness they felt. Also, the way they portrayed Eva Braun>>>> how she tried to sugarcoat everything not to suffer, how she threw parties in the hallway of death, how even in a desperate situation the greatest joy of her life was to marry the terrible man she fell in love with and was blindly loyal too. Everything is so heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time. Also, the historical accuracy is just a delight. 1000/10

This is a true punch in the gut. The terrible way he lost his family, the inhuman life he lived in the guetto, his part in the warsaw guetto riot, how he kept his beautiful talent immaculate till the end, when he lost the love of his life and had to see her married, the hunger, mistreating and fear that were a part of his daily life, his brave survival. Everything about this movie is truly sad. 9/10

I won't even talk much about this one. I start it laughing and finished it on the verge of crying. It is funny, heartbreaking, the perfect mix between comedy and tragedy, the true definition of bittersweetness. 100/10

Following the same road of the last one, there's this piece of art. It had everything to go wrong, but it went beautifully. They made something outrageous turn out funny without being offensive, and yet made a deep, tragic and beautiful story. The underlying romance between that ex-soldier and his assistant, the way jojo changed his mentality gradually, and his absurd view of hitler. It was surprisingly very historically accurate, but Im still confused about: how was jojo not sent to an orphanage after his mother died? How did he survive on his own? Anyways, this was a negative point for me, but still love it. 50/10

Okay, I absolutely love this one, but hate to death how they slipped over such simple aspects, like Hitler's personality. They made him hit a dog when in fact he defended animal's rights, they made him not give a shit about his mom being ill when in fact he loved her dearly. They changed his personality to make him seem even more evil. But, I also have plenty of positive points to talk about. I rarely see movies portraying Hitler's early life the way this one did, and how he ascended gradually to power. I love this miniseries deeply for getting into details about his whole life. They even aborded his abusive relationship with his niece. I can almost forgive the outrageous innacuracy with the characters and the altering of some details (how he earned his iron cross, how he met eva braun, how he treated fuschl), and I love it despite its defects. It also has some iconic scene: the bar fight, the munich beer hall putch, the trial. I wish I could give a 1000/10, but because of its innacuracies im giving it a 500/10

Nazis getting brutally slaughtered. Do I really have to say anything else? Also, Hans Landa>>>>>>>> ∞/10