#gotta look into more folklore though

[jack-o-phantom]

An Unwelcomed storm

Some lonely sailor art for a potential lighthouse keeper

[marwritesgood]

Cardigan | S. Harrington

Pairing: Steve x Hopper!Reader

Timeframe: Season 2-3

Summary: [Based on Cardigan - Taylor Swift] Y/n and Steve had a love like no other until he went and fucked it up.

masterlist

A/N: this is a part of my folklore/evermore-inspired fic collection

there's a lil hopper-centric bonus part to this fic

November, 1984

Steve grinned widely as he opened the passenger door of his BMW and held his hand out to his long-term girlfriend. She stepped out onto the patchy grass, but not without rolling her eyes playfully. Before she could take another step towards her front porch, Steve wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

"Steve," Y/n giggled, placing her hands on his.

Steve did not respond and instead buried his face in the crook of her neck and let out a groan. Y/n continued to move towards her porch, but with Steve holding her tightly she could not help but drag her feet.

"C'mon, baby, I gotta go," she murmured, laughing under her breath.

When he finally loosened his grasp and followed her onto the porch, Y/n turned around and was promptly startled by him stepping forward and pulling her into his arms yet again.

"Are you sure you can't stay out just a little bit longer?"

He leaned in until their heads were pressed against each other. Y/n felt tempted to give in when she looked him in the eye, but frowned, knowing someone else needed her just a bit more.

"My dad's working all night tonight," she frowned. "And you know how El doesn't like to be on her own when it gets late."

Steve sighed, before nodding his head. He kissed her forehead and held the sides of her face affectionately. She smiled at him gratefully.

"Next time," Y/n promised, wrapping her arms around his neck and meeting his disappointed gaze. "We'll stay for as long as you want."

"I'm holding you to it," Steve whispered, before leaning in with a foolish grin and kissing her softly. Y/n smiled against his lips and laughed when he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

When he finally pulled away, he waited until Y/n fished her house key from the pocket of her jeans before letting go of her waist. She held his face and got in one final peck to last her through till morning when he would come by to take her to work.

"Goodnight," she whispered, unable to stop grinning.

"Goodnight, baby," he replied, smiling back at her in awe. How did she manage to still look so pretty under the dim lighting of an old porch light? Even after a year of walking her to her front door at night, Steve was still amazed.

Just as Y/n pulled her hands away from his face and went to step back, Steve leaned in and stole one more kiss. He could never get enough of the taste of her chapstick and the feeling of her lips on his.

"I love you," he added.

"I love you too," she responded with ease, before leaning back against the front door and waving goodbye until his car was almost out of sight.

Y/n turned back around and unlocked the door before slowly swinging it open. She was hoping to hear nothing but the sound of a teenage girl fast asleep in her room, but once she caught a whiff of what she recognised immediately as burnt eggos, Y/n knew her little sister was very much awake.

"El?" She called out, closing and locking the door behind her.

"It's 8-1-5. You're late."

Y/n sighed when she saw El sitting cross-legged at the dinner table with her old baseball bat clutched tightly in her small hands. The half-eaten charred waffle on the plate in front of her made

"I know. I'm sorry," she said, taking her jacket off and taking the seat opposite her. El stared at her burnt waffles, refusing to even look up at her older sister. Y/n shifted uncomfortably. "Did you have dinner? I heated it up for you like I said I would."

El huffed before nodding her head. Her lips remained pursed as a testament to how upset she was, though she finally glanced up and looked at Y/n. Her small fingers played with the burnt bits of eggo.

"I wanted dessert," El explained.

The young girl thought it would be easy enough to make, especially after watching Y/n do it with such ease. After twisting the dials on the toaster without understanding what exactly it did, El quickly realised she had burnt the last of the waffles.

"I know how to fix this," Y/n smiled, before taking El's plate and throwing the burnt eggos in the trash. She then fished out two spoons from the only kitchen drawer that could be opened and grabbed the tub of ice cream she kept hidden right at the back of the freezer, behind the ice trays and frozen dinners.

El's eyes lit up and she did not waste another second before taking her spoon and eating, relieved to finally have something to get rid of the burnt eggos taste in her mouth.

"Why were you late?"

She was asking less out of curiosity and more out of concern. Typically when Y/n knew she would be late, explain to El what number to look for on the clock. The older girl downed another spoonful of ice cream before answering.

"Steve took me to see a movie, and it took longer than I thought it would," she explained.

Although it was an honest mistake, Y/n couldn't shake the guilty feeling left in her gut knowing how disappointed and concerned El must have felt. As the two of them continued to eat, Y/n couldn't help but stress over whether or not she would be getting reprimanded the following morning.

"Please don't tell Hopper I was late," she pleaded sheepishly.

The last time Y/n got home late, El told on her and she had to endure a lecture on responsibility and keeping each other safe. She could just imagine how livid her father would be if he found out she got home almost an hour later than the agreed-upon time.

"Hopper said no secrets," El replied, confused by Y/n's request.

The entire dynamic between Y/n and her dad left El puzzled. While she did her best to listen to Hopper's rules and abide by them, Y/n seemed to take them as a mere suggestion and, at times, did her best to completely defy his orders. It left constantly El intrigued.

"I know he did," the older girl sighed. "...but this is different."

"It is?"

El furrowed her brows in confusion. Y/n smiled and nodded her head. The both of them scooped more ice cream and continued to eat while they continued their conversation.

"You keep my secrets and I'll keep yours," Y/n stated. "That's how it works when you have a sister."

Though they had only been living under the same roof for half a year, there was no denying the sisterly nature of their relationship. While Y/n had her reservations about El when they first met, they were long gone after the first few weeks.

"But I don't have secrets," El reasoned.

"Maybe not now, but you might have one later," Y/n shrugged. "And when you do, you can tell me and I won't tell Hopper... Or anyone."

Despite suspecting she was only saying this to undermine Hopper's rules yet again, El felt excited by the idea of having a confidante she could count on indefinitely. Someone she knew would not freak out in the same way Hopper did.

"Ok," she smiled.

"So you won't tell him I came home late tonight?"

"Sisters don't tell secrets," El stated, holding her pinky out the way Y/n taught her to whenever they made promises to each other. Y/n grinned before holding out hers and looping their fingers together.

After finishing, the tub of ice cream, the two of them tidied the kitchen together before retiring to the living room sofa for the evening. Y/n was halfway through painting El's fingernails when she could sense that someone was troubling her.

"Y/n. I have a question."

She finished the last finger on her left hand before moving on to the next, muttering a quick 'hm?' signalling El to ask away. The young girl shifted in her seat before exhaling heavily.

"Why do you like Steve?"

She froze for a moment, taken aback by El's sudden curiosity about her relationship. Even so, she gave it a great deal of thought.

"Well, I like him for a lot of reasons," Y/n answered "I guess... it's mostly because of how he makes me feel."

"How does he make you feel?"

"He makes me feel happy... and safe," Y/n responded, smiling to herself as she continued to reflect on her relationship with Steve. "And he makes me feel really special even when I don't feel like I am."

That was more often than Y/n would have liked to admit. With everything she went through in life, it was hard for her to see herself as someone important and even harder to believe anyone would be willing to stick by her. But Steve did, even when it was not easy to.

"Y/n, I think I have a secret," El admitted. Y/n looked at her and quipped a brow, interested to know what it was. From the dazed and awestruck glimmer in her eye, Y/n had a hunch it was about a certain boy. El sighed with a goofy smile. "I think I like Mike."

Y/n tried to contain her excitement as she continued painting El's right hand, knowing exactly why she wanted to keep that a secret from their dad.

***

June, 1985

Y/n pulled the passenger's seat of Steve's BMW forward and searched the floor behind it for her missing earring. She could have sworn she was wearing it on their way to Starcourt Mall for work that very morning and was determined to pull her boyfriend's car apart if that's what it took to find it.

"Baby, what are you doing?"

Steve had just reached the parking lot and was rather startled to see his girlfriend rummaging through the loose items that cluttered the backseat of his car. She continued to search the floor mats, unfazed by Steve's presence and concerned tone.

"I lost my earring," she cried out. "I didn't have it when we went inside the mall, so it has to be here somewhere."

He chuckled, feeling grateful he made himself an ice cream cone before locking up the shop. He walked to the front of his car and leaned back against the bumper. The sound of Y/n going through all the clutter provided ambience as he ate his ice cream.

When the parking lot went silent, Steve stood tall, thinking she had finally found her missing earring so it was time for them to grab some dinner before going home. As he watched Y/n step out of the passenger side of the BMW and pace towards him, Steve realised she was holding something but it was not her missing earring.

It was another girl's lacey red bra.

"What the fuck is this, Steve?"

She threw the bra at his fate in a fit of rage, but he was too stunned to react and the red bra fell onto the patch of pavement that separated them. Steve's face went pale and he could have sworn his heart stopped beating altogether.

"Please don't tell me it's what I think it is," Y/n whispered, hoping he would break a smile and reveal that it was all part of some stupid prank he was trying to pull over on her. When he did nothing but stare blankly, she knew that was not going to be the case.

She stumbled back and gasped for air, unsure whether she wanted to burst into tears or break every last window on his stupid BMW and then every last bone in his nose.

"Y/n, I-I can expl-"

"Steve, are you kidding me?"

An explanation was the last thing she wanted to hear. An explanation was not going to undo what he had already gone and done, nor was it going to just ease the excruciating pain she felt in her chest.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n," he cried out, reaching out in an attempt to pull her close to him like he had grown accustomed to doing.

"Don't touch me," she hissed, slapping his hand away and stepping back again.

Y/n raised her hand to her chest and turned her back to Steve. Her mind was flooded with so many negative thoughts, overwhelming any questions she might have initially had. She didn't care for the finer details. She didn't even care who the other girl was. All she could feel was the piercing heartbreak making it unbearable to be in his presence for another second.

"Just take me home," Y/n whimpered, before quickly getting into the passenger's seat and slamming her door shut. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to stand the sight of the man she could no longer recognise.

Most of the ride was silent. Y/n kept her eyes glued to the trees outside her window as she tried to contain her sobs, while Steve struggled to keep his focus on the road. It wasn't until they reached her house that he finally mustered enough courage to speak.

"It was a mistake," Steve whispered, unable to take any more of the silence. He wanted her to yell at him and do everything he knew he deserved. "I was young and stupid and I've regretted it ever since."

"We're the same fucking age, Steve," Y/n scolded, finally looking him in the eye. She furrowed her brows and shook her head in both confusion and disapproval. "And I would've never done this to you."

Y/n turned away and stepped out of his car, slamming shut behind her and then racing to the front door. It wasn't until she was inside that Steve finally drove away, haunted by her last words.

After tossing her keys and jacket on the couch, Y/n sped to the freezer and reached for her trusty stash of chocolate ice cream. She slammed it on the counter and grabbed a spoon from the kitchen drawer. She was barely able to open the container when she burst into tears, suddenly overwhelmed by the reality of it all.

With the tears came all the painful questions she couldn't bring herself to answer. Did she not give him enough love? Y/n was certain she loved Steve as much as she possibly could, which only triggered the more terrifying question of whether that meant her love was not enough. That she was not enough.

***

July, 1985

Y/n's eyes blinked open and she let out a groan having been woken up to both a pounding headache and a battered and bruised Steve Harrington. She held the sides of her head and continued to groan.

"What happened?"

Steve leaned against the wall and rested his elbow on the toilet seat but not before flushing the last of his vomit away. He tried to remember the better times, before him, his ex-girlfriend and two kids got roped into investigating the inner workings of the Starcourt Mall.

"Russians. Truth serum," he panted as he tried to catch his breath. "We've been puking non-stop for an hour and I think you passed out a few minutes ago."

Y/n sighed as she started to remember. She shifted over to the other side of the toilet before leaning back and looking up, trying to focus on the ceiling now that it had finally stopped spinning.

"Do you think it's all out of our system?"

"I don't know," Steve mumbled. "Ask me something."

"Does your mom still ask about me?"

"Every time I play 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' in my bedroom," he answered without hesitation. "- So, basically every day."

"Yeah, I think it's still in our system."

The both of them broke into uncontrollable fits of laughter. When the stalls grew quiet again after they both caught their breaths, Steve found himself smiling and unable to keep quiet.

"You know, this is most you've talked to me all month."

"That's sorta what happens when you cheat on someone, Steve."

"Yeah, that's fair."

As the restroom started to grow quiet again, Y/n couldn't stop thinking about their breakup. All of the feelings she previously keep bottled up and concealed were bubbling to the surface thanks to the unknown substance she was injected with.

"It's really fucked up what you did," she sighed.

"I know," he answered truthfully.

"It's even more fucked up how relieved I am that you're ok."

Steve peeled his eyes away from the ceiling and glanced over to her. Though he knew they were both still affected by the serum, he couldn't help but question whether she meant what she was saying.

"I used to think I wanted you to die," Y/n admitted honestly. "But then those Russians kept punching you and I just... I quickly regretted ever wishing that would happen."

She wanted to be vengeful and enraged, but it was hard to wish misfortune for someone she still cared an awful lot for.

"But, you know, I just... I still don't get why you did it," Y/n whispered. Despite spending so many sleepless nights reflecting on where it all went wrong, she could never figure it out. "I trusted you more than I trusted anyone."

She used to think the only person she could count on was herself, considering everyone she used to rely on was either dead or an unstable drunk. Steve was the only person she felt comfortable enough around to let her guard down completely and trust wholeheartedly. Y/n could have never fathomed the one person who knew her best would leave her heartbroken just like everyone else. Every time she tried to find something to pin the blame on, she found herself pointing her finger right back at her pitiful messed up heart.

"Did you... Did you not feel loved enough by me?"

It was the question that had been haunting her for weeks. If not for the truth serum, Y/n would have never uttered it aloud, unsure whether knowing the answer would do her any good. Steve thought about it for a second then spoke just as quickly as the realisation hit him.

"I didn't know what love was until I was with you."

For as long as he could remember, Steve had always been jumping through hoops to earn the validation of his peers. He once believed he needed to have the best hair, the best car and the keg stand record to feel seen and valued until Y/n very quickly proved him otherwise.

Steve never had someone who loved him quite the way she did: fiercely and unconditionally. Each time he told her he loved her, he couldn't help but feel startled when she said it back every single time. Y/n had seen every side to him, the best and the worst parts. He simply couldn't believe she loved him still until he had already gone and fucked it up.

***

August, 1985

"He wrote you a letter?"

Y/n felt a lump in her throat as a teary-eyed El held up the letter their dad had written to her. The older girl felt resentful and envious. There was not much either of them could say beyond that.

Despite her best attempts as appearing to be okay, El knew how much Y/n was hurting and wished she had more time in Hawkins to ensure her older sister would be ok. However, the sun was setting and the moving truck was already filled to the brim, ready for the journey to California.

Y/n thought hugging El one last time before waving goodbye to her and the Byers would be the hardest part, but it was by far the drive home. She had no one with her and no one waiting for her. All she had for company was the bitter feeling that came from realising everyone she loved was gone.

Her father was dead. The closest thing she had to a sister chose to move to a different state with another family overstaying in Indiana with her. Everyone she loved had abandoned her in one way.

Now all she was left with was the pack of beers her dad had stored in their refrigerator and an empty house. Y/n chugged her first bottle, hoping the alcohol would suffocate the quiet voice in her head, replaying the harsh words she spoke during her last argument with her father.

Before she could fall deeper into the wormhole, there was a knock at the door. After swinging it open, she found herself face to face with Steve, who held a pizza box in his hand and his car keys in the other.

"I thought maybe you could use some company," he spoke hesitantly.

After everything that happened when they left the bathroom stall, Y/n was quick to shut almost everyone out. Every attempt Steve made at getting her to open up was met with defensiveness and an aggressive reminder that he was a cheating scumbag. Even so, he knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't continue to try.

"Why are you here?"

Though her tone came off as annoyed, she was more surprised than anything else. Almost everyone had given up on trying to get through to her, yet there he stood in her front porch light, ready to give it another go.

"I know I messed up," Steve sighed wearily. "And I'm not expecting you to take me back or anything. I just... I just didn't want you to be alone."

He braced himself for another blowup and prepared himself to take whatever it was she needed to get off her chest and be ready to come back and try again the following day. However, she simply snatched the pizza box out of hand, placing it on the floor behind her before turning back to him and pulling him in for a hug.

Steve wrapped his arms around his waist and held her tightly, not letting go until he was certain she was ready to pull away. The quiet sobs she let out into his shoulders made it clear that would not be any time soon.

Just as well, there was no place else he wanted to be.

bonus part

i do not give permission for any of my works to be copied, translated, or reposted onto another site.

[blazescompendium]

Blaze's Compendium Entry #6: Helmet is required to deal with the Muh Shubuu.

Warning: Faith and religion are important real life topics, that tackles the culture and way of life of millions of real life people. It is a cultural expression, and must be respected by all means. Here, we use a video-game series only to ignite the flame of learning about the matter, using its art when well depicted, but we do this with all due respect to the cultures we talk here, grounded by real life sources, cultures and people. And i mean this with respect. Hope you all enjoy.

Moh Shubuu, or Moh Shuvuu is a fantastical creature from the Buryati Folclore, nomadic people from Asia in a region between Siberia and Mongolia. Their are treated like a Mythological bird, that is born when a young girl or young woman dies by violent means, without knowing true love. (This can imply chastity, but it will vary in how explicit it says it). Normally, Moh Shubuu will attack man that she could seduce using her young girl looks, bringing the victim to isolated areas of the desert and killing them with a blow to their head, using their ominous sharp beak. Then she would proceed to suck and consume the brain matter out of the person.... Yikes.

According to sources (as always, will be in the boton) There are other ways for a Moh Shubuu to be born, we will explore those later.

This is one of those legends that, finding a single western source on it is way harder than actually understanding it. Not even Wikipedia is of any help here (That is, if it was of any help, any time). The only real English source i was able to locate was a book: ''Christian Demonology and Popular Mythology, Central European, 2006''. Although this book was a verifiable source, it was not from much help because of the biased view of the tale, from a Christian perspective. Which is not exactly wrong. There's whole fields of theology dedicated to this , but we gotta exercise the Methodological Agnosticism here, which means i can't analyze a culture going from other completely biased point of view, but rather try to see by the eyes of said people considering their time and space, which is also not a easy task by any means.

Moh Shubuu hides her beak with her hands, and sleeves.

The book offers little to no insight about more than what is commonly associated with the Moh Shubuu. The western internet is filled with texts and people talking about this legend, in the way i told above. But the creature name gets a bit confusing. Usually, in the west people call it Moh Shuvuu, but it seems this is a western way of spelling the name, which is actually Moh Shubuu or Moh Shubuun. This means literally somehting like ''Evil Bird'' According to most sources, but i was unable to independent verify this claim. So, take it with a bit of salt. I am sure though, that this could not be so much far away from what it really is.

Going by Muh Shubuun or Moh Shubuu makes it more easier to research it, in Russian the name is spelled like: Муу шубуун. In using this language, there is a good amount of sources going from sites that talk about mythology, to museum pages in general, to books. This did not surprised me, because Buryatia being part of Russian territory for centuries now, and Moh Shubuu being a relatively obscure, and oral folklore, makes it very niche to research indeed. Specially from a culture which is in high danger of disappearing. [2]

But by far, the most complete work in Buryatian culture research i was able to find, comes from a renowned Russian folklorist: Matvey Nikolaevich (1858-1918). His work is extensive and very detailed, he spent his life and career studying and documenting Buryati culture. Matvey was celebrated in his time by his expeditions to Buryati settlements to study their culture, and he was elected in 1888 as a member of the Russian Geographic Society. So much so, that a Museum in Buryatia is named after him, and display many of his belongings and researches there. (Linked source, and Museum)

If you happen to speak Russian, and is interested in learning more about Buryatian Folklore, culture and more i heavily suggests you to read more of Matvey books. As for me, i do not speak Russian, so i am relying in software translations. If you notice anything wrong, please let me know!

I can't go too deep in his work here, because our main goal here is to explore the Muh Shubuu lore. Luckily for us, Matvey catalogued this very tale (along with another multitude of Buryati folklore) in some of his work. Here, i will use as a basis his book:

‘’Хангалов М.Н. Собрание сочинений в 3 т. Т.3. / Под ред. Г.Н.Румянцева.-Улан-Удэ: Изд-во ОАО «Республиканская типография», 2004.- (Reprint)’’

Translated roughly as:

‘’Khangalov M.N. Collected works in 3 vols. T.3. / Ed. G.N. Rumyantsev.-Ulan-Ude: Publishing House of JSC "Republican Printing House", 2004. (Reprint)’’

This work was originally published between 1889 to 1903, in 3 volumes focusing on Buryati Folklore. Sadly, i could not locate this book anywhere on the web, at least not using software translation and all my power to do so, i could not locate a physical copy of easy access for me. But, luckily the book is partially transcribed in many web pages and that's how i guided myself.

So, about the Muh Shubuu!

There are some legends Matvey catalogued about this demon in Buryati folklore, but they vary a bit. This can be because of the nomadic nature of the Buryati people, and how the tale can evolve and change between groups and settlement. But nevertheless, the essence is still the same. Here are some tales that Matvey could comply about the Muh Shubuu:

There is, for instance the tale of a young couple, that went to live in the woods together. Sadly the man dies from illness shortly after, leaving his wife alone and depressed. The woman could not bear the loss of her husband, and was driven into madness. During this time, she decides it is a good idea to consume the dead decaying liver of her late husband. After that, she dies as well.

The woman's soul is back as a Mu Shubuun, because of her terrible act. Still according to this particular legend, this demon can change forms into different types of birds. (like some kind of warebird) But, when she transforms back to her more humanoid form, only the beak will remain. (Some times, this beak is described like her lips) The beak will always be visible, no matter how many times she transforms back.

Another tale tells about a hunter, who was hunting alone in the desert. (or woods, depending on the mood of my translation software) After taking a rest, a young woman approaches him. She starts to kick a conversation, cracking jokes, and getting along with the hunter. He noticed that the woman always tried to hid her lower face with her sleeves, and found it suspicious. He notices this is a Mu Shubuu, and asks her to get logs to the fire he is preparing. She goes, and while she's away, the hunter puts some branches and his stuff into his blanket to give the impression he is sleeping in it.

When the demon returns, she thinks the tired hunter was sleeping already, and she could finally attack. She jumped in the blanked with her beak, stabbing the branches and logs he put inside it, and it got stuck. That's when the hunter shoots the thing down with his gun. After that, he burns the remains in a fire.

This story is particularly interesting, because it involves guns, so it was probably not that old. At least this version, it could have changed with the years, with regular weapons becoming guns, once they were invented and got popular. Or... My translation software got something as an bow and arrow as a gun.

This tale also makes clear that the creature was about to kill the hunter, with her classical ''beak to the head'' and would probably consume his brain matter. But there is evidence Mu Shubuu diet consisted of more than just brains. like the woman in the first tale eating the liver of her husband.

This amazing artwork was made by NATZ they are amazing, and let us use it to illustrate this text. Go check them out! I am a big fan!

In another tale, there is also other person who win in a fight against this demon by getting her stuck in a tree. This seemed to be enough to the creature promise not to bother anyone anymore.

Matvey also complied the information that, some tales described that Mu Shubuu had two ''flints'' with them, usually in their armpits. The right one is a bright red flint, very good looking. The other one is a decayed and rotten tool. The disgusting one is the one to destroy, or take from the creature, because it is linked to her vital forces, it seems. During a fight, Mu Shubuu will try to convince you that the red one is better, but this is a trap. This flint will weaken you instead, making you the easiest prey to this demon.

Buryat knife with a suspension, a tube, a pouch, a flint. Silver, coral, malachite, mahogany, leather, hardened steel, corals, chasing, punching, forging. I dont know, but maybe this legends of a ''flint'' could be referring to the tools here.

There is also the implication that there are male Mu Shubuun as well! According to Matvey there was a tale about a forest where lots of Mu Shubuun inhabited, and they always caused mayhem in the region, attacking and eating people's brains.

One day, a warrior decided to go there, and was (surprise surprise) attacked by a Mu Shubuun. In this story, the flint version was accounted for, and the warrior win the fight taking the ugly looking flint from the demon. But, she ends up fleeing.

The man follows the creature trail up to a well, where he found not only the female Mu Shubuun that attacked him, but a male Mu Shubuun. It was the male that convinced the guy not to harm them, explaining that attacking humans was an habit of the female Mu Shubuun only. As a way to apologize, the couple of demons teach the man how to defend himself from their relatives, using magical phrases. I could not translate them very well using software, but in Russian it goes as:

‘’Хадалан долон - Хадалаевы семеро

Хамнагахи найман - Хамнагановы восьмеро’’

Female and (possible) male Mu Shubuun from the game Blood Brothers. I like this interpretation very much, because of the bloody beak.

This tales are interestng, because they are very small but they manage to convey a lot about this creature, which is sadly not very much available to western sources. It is evident that in Buryatia, this is a relatively known folkloric tale, and in Russia and Eurasia it was spread by books and the internet, much before the demon was explored in the Shin Megami Tensei series.

For instance, the Irkutsk City Museum, in Russia has a page dedicated to Buryati culture, and also shows some Mu Shubuun texts. Irkutsk is not in Buryatia, rather is a bit north, after the Baikal lake that separates Buryatia from the rest of Russia. But it is close enough to have some cultural connections.

(Again, i am not going too deep into the Buryati belief system as a whole. Not only because that's not the foccus here, but because it would need much more research. If you want me to talk about more of this culture in the future, let me know!)

Much is talked about the Buryatian Shamanism when talking about the Buryatian folklore. This was present in Matvey's work, as well in official government sources as the Irkutsk Museum. This Shamanistic culture often deals with lots of problematic spirits. Those are usually translated as bad spirits, ghosts, or even demons. This means our little devil bird girl is not alone in this pantheon. Just to be brief about some other Buryatian mystical creatures:

Ada: A spirit that manifests itself as a small crature with only one eye, and one teeth. Their mouth is on her lower jaw. Can appear as a dog, children or even inflate itself as a balloon. (This one is specifically creepy, and it is also cited by Matvey works)

Anakhai: Also spotted on the before told sources, this is a cyclop-like creature that attacks children.

Ezykhe: A spirit that causes harm to domestic animals. Usually it appears as a decaying old hag, that steals cow's milk. This can cause malnutrition to calfs, and even death of livestock.

The Buryati usually are practitioners of Tengrism. This is a belief system that is sustained by the relationship with the Earth, being protected by it and the ancient spirits. It is interesting that, in some sources the Tengrists believe that the skeleton is sacred, because it stores a part of the Soul. They went as far as to not damage animal bones during sacrificial rituals. So, since Mu Shubuun has to break open the skull to eat its prey's brain, i wonder if it is seen as a even more evil act by them. [sourced by Buryati Religion and Society’ from Lawrence Krader, 1954]

As is the case with any culture, we need to know a bit of the time and place to understand the collective consciousness that give birth to such myths. The Buryatia territory as a place and the way of life of the Buryati people is essential to this mixture. For instance, being nomadic people that relies a lot in livestock and surviving the harsh Eurasian deserts and the SIberian tundra, the worst fears would often be dictated by those essential pillars of their lifes.

A creature that can slowly kill your livestock? A predatory demon that kills you alone in the desert, sucking your brains? Those were real fears. It is hard to dive deeper into Buryati culture in this text, because it is just a crop honestly, but is also very important to remind ourselves that the Buryati are a diverse people, and some behaviors, tales and even words can change from place to place.

There is definitively a lot to learn from their culture, and a lot to preserve. Being endangered to disappear, it is always interesting to spread the word to more people that could study and preserve Buryati history.

If you are interested, i can recommend also the paper ‘’Buryati Religion and Society’ from Lawrence Krader, published originally in 1954. It is not perfect, and it is pretty old, but it is a good start! It is one of the few English sources about Buryatian culture out there.

Mu Shubuun is a very interesting case of a regional folklore making a trip from it's mother culture and ending up appearing in pop culture. Even with UN classifying the Buryati language to be highly in risk to be extinct, this predatory bird devil ended up in games and known in many parts of the world. In SMT for instance, she ranked 9th as the most popular demon in recent years, as well is a recurrent character in almost every franchise release since the 1990s.

Kazuma Kaneko's design is great for me, because it interprets the beak as disguised as the creature hair, or is it hair and just looks like a beak? That is the magic of his take on the creature. I am just curious on how he got to this specific folklore in the first place.

Kaneko took inspiration from Buryati female clothes when designing Mu Shubuun appearance! Very neat. SMT Moh Shubuu lacks the beak, but its hair its styled like a bird's beak, head and wings in a very cool nod to its nature.

It is fascinating to think this happened, but it got me thinking that Mu Shubuun was a product of a culture, and real people that lived by this for centuries. As the warning says in the start of the text, we can use popular media to spark a flame of interest in the matter, but this has to be done with all due respect.

The next paragraphs are based on my personal opinions upon studying this tale extensively. But you feel free to disagree with me, or even correct me!

In my personal belief, Mu Shubuun is one of those Folkloric cautionary tales. Not only not to wander alone in the desert, which could be fatal by very real means, but also that violence against the more vulnerable could have consequences. In the case of Young Woman, this could end up as a Muh shubuu coming to enact her revenge.

Another personal observation of mine: The creature carrying flints reminded me of the old Korean tradition of young virgin woman carrying daggers in her clothes (usually in their arms as well), so they could commit suicide if endangered to be sexually harassed. [1] This could be nothing related, but i thought about it immediately after noticing the flint trope with Moh Shubuu.

As why the bird connection, i really can't say for sure. Probably because raptor birds could be menacingly common, around. But i should study Buryati culture deeper in order to be more accurate about it. End of my personal opinions

Be any reason why this tale survived centuries and ended up here, in the internet, videogames, and other works, is a mystery to me. Maybe the idea of a vengeful spirit taking her grudge on male society is alluring to some, maybe it was because Kazuma Kaneko really did an amazing design, and maybe it is because there is something about regional tales, folklore and beliefs that really fascinate some of us. Some distortions may have occurred in the way, but it is also part of this process. To me, it is important that Buryati traditions and culture can be preserved, and for many, Mu Shubuun is the link to this cosmos. That is a very interesting thing, and i am quite fascinated by it as well.

Thank you for reading up until here!

Sources:

-Matvey, Collected works Volume 3, pages 25 to 26 (reprinted in 2004) - (Хангалов М.Н. Собрание сочинений в 3 т. Т.3. / Под ред. Г.Н.Румянцева.-Улан-Удэ: Изд-во ОАО «Республиканская типография», 2004.- С.25-26’’)

-Irkutsk City Museum

-Buryati Religion And Society, Lawrence Krader 1954. (Sadly paywall...)

[1] - Korean Perceptions of Chastity ceptions of Chastity, Gender Roles, and Libido; F , Gender Roles, and Libido; From Kisaengs to the Twenty First Century (This one is just to back my claim about similarities)

[2]- The troubled state of the Buryati language today, Dulma Batorova

[arlechinav-blog]

Krotala of the Cult of Artemis (Part I)

The wider cult of Artemis has and had a lot of dances. Probably more than any other cult I have been able to track, though the combined Mountain Mothers (Ida, Rhea, Kybele, et al) constitute a close second place on that. The above video here is my version of the Orphic Hymn to Artemis. It utilizes a musical structure that you can still find today in Southern Italy, known as a tammurriata rhythm. Tammurriata rhythms go with a dance by the same name that is played on wooden nacchere (aka castanets). These are a more modern tool variation on the ancient Hellenic krotala, which were a pair of wooden clackers held in the hands and used in dances relating to both the Cult of Artemis and the Cult of Dionysos. Depending on where you look in the Hellenic diaspora, the modern surviving tool of choice for this is either a set of wooden spoons or some form of castanet--pretty much always made of wood though sometimes large nut shells are also an option. I have added a video of the way the spoons should be played with this below. I went with wooden spoons because they tend to be a bit more accessible.

The song itself should be sung in the high voice, which resonates at the back of the throat. This is quite different from the open throated falsetto. It is a very specific folkloric way of singing, used commonly in pan Mediterranean styles of polyphonic chant. It doesn't matter where your natural range is, everyone is expected to be able to sing in both a high and low voice depending on the subject matter of the music. For Artemis, that is pretty much always going to be in the high voice. If you are not familiar with how this sounds, it can take some getting used to. I promise my vocalizations were intentional. lol Original Lyrics (with melodic breaks): Κλῦθί μευ, ὦ βασίλεια, / Διὸς πολυώνυμε κούρη, Τιτηνίς, βρομίη, μεγαλώ/νυμε, τοξότι, σεμνή, πασιφαής, δαιδοῦχε, / θεά / Δίκτυννα, λοχείη, ὠδίνων ἐπαρωγὲ, / καὶ ὠδίνων ἀμύητε· λυσίζωνε, φίλοιστρε, κυνη/γέτι, λυσιμέριμνε, εὔδρομος, ἰοχέαιρα, / φιλαγρότι, νυκτερόφοιτε, κλεισίη, εὐάντητε, / λυτηρίη, ἀρσενόμορφε, ὀρθίη, ὠκυλόχεια, / βροτῶν κουροτρόφε δαῖμον, ἀγροτέρη, χθονίη, / θηροκτόνος, ὀλβιόμοιρε· ἣ κατέχεις ὀρέων δρυμούς, / ἐλαφηβόλε, σεμνή, πότνια, παμβασίλεια, / καλὸν θάλος αἰὲν ἐοῦσα· δρυμονία, σκυλακῖτι, / Κυδωνιάς, αἰολόμορφε. ἐλθέ, θεὰ σώτειρα, / φίλη, μύστῃσιν ἅπασιν, εὐάντητος, ἄγουσα καλοὺς / καρποὺς ἀπὸ γαίης, εἰρήνην τ’ ἐρατὴν καλλι/πλόκαμόν θ’ ὑγίειαν· πέμποις δ’ εἰς ὀρέων κεφαλὰς / νούσους τε καὶ ἄλγη.

Now for a bit more about krotala!

These are all variations of ancient krotala, for those of you who are into woodworking and reconstruction.

I love this last sketch especially because that is definitely me on the right with the big stick, marking time on the ground while my dance students are trying to remember where feet go with this one. We do hand and foot things together with this one! Gotta work on that coordination.

Hand clackers are not all alike. The specific type of hand clacker used in each dance is linked directly to specific cults. The wooden variety are related to the Cults of Dionysos and Artemis. The above are all Artemesian images. I'll add some Dionysian images below so you can see the difference.

Context clues are everything, folks.

Fun Fact! The paired krotala dances of the ancient world were considered very sexy. This whole dance family was based on martial arts training, self-defence (trading and blocking blows, building confidence), and courtship. These things all went together. Young girls were trained to dance-fight from a young age and then this dance was used by those looking for a mate to have a socially acceptable mode of public courtship. So, somehow the idea of this dance came to be equated with young people out looking to get busy married. Once married, girls transitioned from the Cult of Artemis to the Cult of Dionysos and they took the dances that they had studied their entire lives up to that point right on over to this next phase of life.

To be continued...

[fandomhop]

hello friend, what is fable? you seem to like it a lot and i gotta be honest i dont know the first thing about it. now,, i COULD ask google but i think that you could explain it better mhm mhm

[Oh boy! /affectionate]

[So, in a general, overall statement, Fable is a series of games from the 2000's-2010's. It's a quintessential bit of adventure fantasy, and totally progressive of its time.]

[Fable, as a whole, is about making your own sort of path within the story, and having your actions reflected on the world and yourself. It has a cool morality morphing system where, when you do something good or bad, not only does it affect the funny lil' NPCs around you, but it also reflects on your body. Do enough good actions, your complexion becomes glowing and you have a halo, do enough bad and you become more demonic looking.]

[There's actually both a deep and semi-shallow amount of lore. The first game was deffo built upon the bending and twisting of stories and folklore- you know, fables- and the games after followed along centuries after that, showing a world trying to grow past it's story built roots, but not being completely rid of them, even as technology grows and advances.]

[It's also British as hell. But, like, in a fun way! There's a fun and wonderful mix of light and darkness, sincerity and satire, sadness and humour. There's these beasties called Hobbes that are these sorta ugly things that act silly in and out of combat, but they also eat human flesh and are rumored to turn children into them. Some of them turn into kamikazes and they like teddy bears.]

[Also you can kick chickens (they're fine, don't worry about it, they have reinforced feathers)]

[Your character is a Hero (with the capital H), a person who is born to be able to deal with the struggles of protecting or commanding respect of the common man. You can wield and utilize Strength, Skill and Will, the trio of combat skills. The combat is a bit simple, but it's also fun and easy to get into. You can also upgrade with experience points to get better with your weapons and will powers.]

[I think the story, world, and characters of Fable: The Lost Chapters are extremely iconic, but the character building and development starts to really shine in the later games. All the games have wonderful setting appearance, though. Looking at pictures of Fable are these beautiful settings and desktop/screen background worthy scenes. The people look a bit silly, though.]

[Also? This game series is also progressive bc of its LGBT+ rep. The first game got called out for letting the male only player Hero marry a man, so the next game include bisexuals. Fable 3 lets you adopt children, regardless of your spouse's gender. There's a potion that lets you trans your gender (available only once in a quest after the main quest) and no one bats an eye to it (if you have a straight spouse, they won't immediately divorce you as long as you treat them well, but they won't have sex either.) There's a quest where you help out a guy find a suitor who is secretly gay, and the end of the quest is him coming out to his dad and being accepted. You can wear clothes of either gender, and get tattoos, hair, and facial hair regardless of your sex. (there is a cross-dressing statistic, but the Brits love a bit of cross-dressing humour.)]

[Now, I will not lie and say that they are perfect games, there are some flaws with them, and Fable 3 gets a bit of a bad rap for it's heavy streamlining, but I can genuinely say that these games are cherished a lot. Fable 2 is my go-to favourite game ever, and every once and a blue moon, I will be revitalized with a longing for the series. If you wanna get into it, I think it's a fun time for an old-ish game, and I really hope the new one that's coming out in {*looks at wrist*} the-yet-to-be-announced-future will be as cherishable, even if it's slightly different.]

[Also? Like, every time I (re)enter an interest/fixation, I make a little Fable AU in my head to consider what kind of heroes the characters might be.]

[jyndor2]

gotta say that midnights seemed slightly off to me from the get go. like I remember thinking the themes felt like a step backwards in terms of emotional growth after folklore and evermore, and bejeweled immediately had my mind going ???? because it was giving me sorry off of lemonade vibes, like not necessarily the same context or sound but something about it kept reminding me of sorry. that like, fuck being taken for granted, I'm gonna go be cute in the club like of thing.

and midnights does have this melancholy thing throughout which resonated with me deeply but it was also hard to swallow question and bejeweled and even tbh maroon and lavender haze (specifically the 1950s shit line from a woman who has never been shy in her music about wanting that traditional fairytale ending, but i just assumed she had grown into understanding that love doesn't have a fairytale ending, its ever evolving and takes on different forms over time).

but knowing what we likely know now, midnights can reflect the deeply complicated and often contradictory way that relationships work and don't work. you don't just go from love to resentment overnight, and sometimes it's both.

and I'm definitely not speculating, have no interest in learning what happened (it's not our business) but I wanted to share my moment of clarity on the album because I finally had it last night. I always liked it, but I couldn't get over how disjointed it felt. now it makes more sense to me.

maybe I have some young followers and I just want to say I've seen some really heartbreaking and concerning behavior from swifties since the news. I'm not gonna shame someone for getting too caught up in a parasocial relationship with a songwriter who has always put a lot of her personal life and emotions into her works, even if they are fictionalized and reworked into something she can sell. it's understandable that people would feel so connected to her, that's her business model. it isn't healthy which is why she's pulled back so much, but its still part of how her brand works. that carefully curated authenticity.

many of her fans are young, literal children. I don't want them to think that this idealized kind of golden love is possible to begin with - it is IDEALIZED. even with how realistic she has made their relationship sound in contrast to the fairytale loves she wrote about when she was younger, we don't know what they were actually like. you don't know. it's like thinking of their relationship as something from fiction, because in many ways what she wrote IS fiction - it's inspired by reality but fictionalized all the same.

there's a study that looked into when relationships tend to end on average. it's five years. it makes sense, after five years people really do know each other for the most part and likely have grown into more mature people. five years is a long time. five years ago I was just getting my esthetics license and now I'm a business owner. I know more about who I am and what my goals are. my goals have changed. sometimes people's goals become incompatible. it's normal and it doesn't make the love any less real.

this was probably her first serious and mature relationship. by all accounts she was at her lowest point when they met, and she's clearly grown a lot in the time since. that is not even taking into account his own journey and growth. again, this is normal and sometimes people can work through those changes, and sometimes people can't. it's not black and white though, it doesn't have to mean that what they had wasn't real love.

we weren't there, we don't know her or him and we shouldn't. taylor lets us see what she wants us to see. she's a mastermind, right? you don't know her and this is a great example of that. so hopefully younger fans especially can take some time to reflect on how to set better boundaries in the future to avoid feeling so hopeless and full of grief over someone else's relationship.

[wri0thesley]

for the prompts, how ab 39 (yan prompt list) w Itto? <3

ooh this one is super interesting to me bc i don't see him really as a yan type . . . but . . . this is also a very good opportunity for kind of whiny pathetic yandere. which i love >:3

(cw: yandere content, light mention of blood, visionless reader)

“Tell me how much you love me.”

The worst part of all is thus; you don’t think that Itto even realises what he’s done to you. What corner you have been backed into by dint of him loving you - and how afraid he makes you to tell the truth. 

He’s so . . . friendly. Pulling you into bone-crushing hugs, showing you off to anyone who’ll put up with him for a few moments, waxing lyrical about what a perfect couple the two of you make; pushing you forward with a proud, wide smile on his face as he says something like; 

‘Ain’t we just the cutest couple you’ve ever seen? C’mon, you can look for a bit longer - hey, get out your Kamera if you want, you’re gonna want to remember this!’ 

You think it would be churlish if you were to argue with these people. Itto looks so happy; and though you don’t think he’d hurt you, it’s hard to forget the breadth and the height on him, the inhuman blood that runs through his veins, and all of the whispers and mutters and folklore that follow his species around. 

(Itto would hate you thinking of the folklore, you know. Whenever you hear the chant of fortune in and oni out, you let yourself smile secretive and small and hidden. It is your one indulgence.)

Shinobu looks at you with obvious approval; she thinks you are a calming influence on Itto. It’s her who shepherds the rest of the boys in the gang away; her who tells you that you can come to her if you ever really need help. 

But it sounds silly, said out loud. ‘I don’t think I ever agreed that Itto was my boyfriend’. You’re sure she would just laugh at you. 

So you are left alone with Itto, instead, in moments like this - Shinobu insisting on some errand or important task to do, as she leaves the two of you alone and Itto sends her a not-quite-hidden enough thumbs up.

Left with him sidling closer to you in his favourite secluded spot, as he sits beside you on some wooden bench - left with him as he pulls some cheesy romantic-comedy stretch-and-yawn move.

His arm around your shoulders is heavy. You can feel the cords of muscle even through your clothes; are reminded of just how much strength lays behind that affable, excited demeanour.

“You’re real quiet today, y’know that?” Itto says - and you look up at him from under your lashes, swallowing thickly. “Heh, if I didn’t know better, I’d say it seemed like you were scareda me!”

(You are scared of him. What would he do, if you told him the truth, and if you asked him to leave you alone?)

“. . . I’m not,” you say, but there’s been too long of a pause. Itto’s eyebrows knit.

“Babe?” Itto says. He catches your chin in his hand and forces you to look at him, tugging your face up towards him. “Y’know I’d do anything for you, right? Just say the word. Someone needs beatin’ up, someone needs to be taught a lesson, I’m your oni!”  His voice drops a semitone; something cold and cruel and dark lingering in the back of it. “I’ll break ‘em.”

“Y-you don’t need to do that,” you say, but Itto has found his ground. 

“You’re mine, yeah? We’re each others. We look out for each other! And I know you aren’t as strong as me, but that just means I’ve gotta make extra sure that nothing ever happens to you and we get to be together forever.”

Forever sounds like an awfully long time. 

If you were braver, you’d tell him the truth now - you’d stand up and walk away and never look back. But the Archons give visions to those who cherish ambitions; those who stand apart from the rest of the world. Itto falls into that number, and you do not - and, more inherent than being an oni and being the head of the gang and being so, so capable of overpowering you, is that knowledge that his determination almost certainly outstrips your own.

You’re too quiet. Itto shakes you gently, but his eyes are like swords. He whispers your name with such force it frightens you, and then, he takes a deep breath and wets his lips and says;

“Tell me how much you love me.”

His hands are fastened about your biceps; sharp black-painted talons digging into the soft skin there, hard enough to draw blood. His eyes - sharp gold and red - are trained on you beseechingly. 

It’s as if, if you tell him the truth, he will simply shrivel up and die and there will be nothing left of him. 

“Tell me,” he repeats, and his voice is sharper this time. There’s still a whine to it - but behind the whine is something steely and rock-solid that reminds you of the vision that hangs about his neck. He’s easy with the Arataki gang, yes - he’s a good leader, he cares about them--

But there is no denying that he is the leader, and others bow to his will. 

You are bleeding. Just a trickle of viscous dark red rolls down your elbow; but Itto does not so much as notice. 

If something did happen to you . . . There are people in Inazuma City who find him a nuisance, yes, but you don’t think anyone would expect out-and-out malice of him. If you displease him and bring out that fortress-strength that hides behind trading card games and beetle battles, would anybody truly believe he was capable of it? 

“Babe?” Itto says, shaking you just a touch - and you force a trembling smile to your lips. 

“I love you, Itto,” you tell him - and he smiles brightly at you, dazzling like the sun, and hugs you so tightly all the breath is squeezed out of you.

(His hands go for your ass; that, too, is squeezed with equal enthusiasm). 

If he makes you say it enough, you try and comfort yourself, perhaps you’ll even start to believe it. 

[blonde-fraumell]

Considering your recent material in the Subnautica AU, I do need to ask a few things about the sirens as there's a lot of mystery and I may or may not want to make something for you in this AU (And no, I'm not expecting it to be canon)

1) DOES the coloring of certain siren genders mirror that of earth's fish? Like, are males brighter than females?

2) HARD QUESTION! Are Sirens born from eggs, like most fish, or are they born live, like whales or sharks? (Someone's gotta ask the hard questions about a species, right?)

3) Do they show color when they're born, or does their color change over time?

4) Are Sirens in this world solitary creatures like in popular folklore? Like, do they value their independence, or are they willing to ask for help?

5) Admittedly, this one is less on the sirens and more so my stupidity on this game talking, but what are the Interlopers and why are the Sirens so...what's the word for it...nervous about them? Scared of them? Not sure how they feel about them or who they are

I hope these aren't too weird at all...

Oh ho ho hooo! Time to break my lore brain! I'm glad you like my AU so much! :D Alrighty! Here we go!

Putting everything below a cut, cuz there's a lot :D

That is correct! The more vibrant the colors, the more likely the siren is a male. However! There are cases were a female may have one or two bright colors (the different subspecies and whatnot), in that case; look to the the fins. Male sirens will always have colorful webbing and fins. Sun's fins are bright orange and yellow with red quills. Moon's fins are bright blue that fade to a little but still popping blue. Eclipse's fins are bright orange with some red. A female siren would not have colorful fins and webbing, it would be white, silver, or black depending on the subspecies. :D

The siren leviathans do indeed lay eggs, like most leviathan species in Subnautica. The eggs have a tougher "skin" than normal fish eggs though, making them sturdy. Also! Most mated pairs only lay one or two eggs, that is how high the survival rate is for siren :D (but that depends on if the adult siren doesn't kill their prospective mates) They are also always white, silver, or black, depending on were they were laid and subspecies. This leads to your next question, friend!

Siren's do not show color until they are old enough to hunt on their own. Until then, they remain muted in color, to better blend with their surroundings. White for shallow areas or arctic. Silver for deeper waters, reflect colors better to blend with any area. Black for the deepest parts of the ocean, blend with shadows for survival.

The sirens in this world prefer to travel in pairs (like Sun and Moon). When young, they will find another siren and will bond with them (familial, platonic, or romantic), thus becoming a pair. The two together will hunt prey and thrive. There are some, though, who grow too territorial and will kill their partners (like Eclipse). This is rare and only occurs with the more territorial subspecies (but they will not kill their mates, only family and friends cuz territory). Sirens will always turn to their partner first and foremost before seeking assistance of other species.

The "interlopers" are the precursors/architects from the game! "Interloper" is just what Eclipse calls them, since they invaded his home and interfered where they shouldn't (in his opinion). Sun and Moon don't really know much about the Architects, since those guys left WAY before Sun and Moon were born, but Eclipse... Well. Eclipse is a LOT older than he acts. He was a hatchling when the Architects basically doomed the planet. He and his partner (who was alive at that time) fled to an area with enough volcanic activity that the Kharaa virus was unable to infect them ((hence why it doesn't show up in my AU, the "Hot Spot" is a volcanic center that "cleansed" the area when the volcano was still active. It is currently dormant during the events of the stories)). Eclipse absolutely hates the Architects and blames them for the state of the world (such as the near extinction of many leviathan species like the Sea Emperors)

These were wonderful questions and it was a blast answering them! Feel free to poke my brain any time! A lot of what I think up doesn't actually get written in the stories due to them being mainly from Reader's perspective (tho Eclipsed Rhythm does show a bit of Eclipse's perspective every now and then)

Anywho~ Thanks for letting me ramble!

[bohica160]

A request for whenever you get to it, no rush. But Alpha Chris helping his not quite mate through their first heat because they're a late bloomer? Eh? Needy Omega not realizing how strong their first heat is and calling him while he's at the office because they think they're dying from being so hot and feeling like they're losing their mind with need. AFAB or GN whichever you prefer or want! Thanks!

Yes!!!!!!! This man is perfect in A/B/O 😉😉

Thank you for your request!

I hope this was okay🥺❤

ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗMinors gtfo, this isn't for youᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Warnings: Omegaverse, Alpha Chris, Omega fem reader, knotting, praising

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okay, Mom. Yes, I know. Okay well, that hasn't happened and by the looks of it, I doubt it will happen. Alright, that's not fair to bring him into this. Yeah okay. Well, I gotta go Mom. Yeah. Okay. Love you too”. You tossed your cell phone onto the couch with a frustrated sigh before getting up to get yourself a drink. You were just tired of her hounding you about how you haven't been ‘claimed’ yet. Also doesn't help that you haven't been feeling well. Your lower body has been aching and your temperature has been higher than normal. Maybe you were coming down with a cold. It seemed like your symptoms were progressively getting worse as the week went on. Your mom believes it's because you haven't been haven't had your first heat yet. Omegas don't experience their first heat until they are between the ages of 20 and 25. There have been rare occasions of hearing an omega having their first heat later than that. However, there has always been this superstition/fear of getting your first heat late. Some folklore says people would have to lock away the omega until it happens. Some believed your ability to have pups would decline drastically. Some thought you would go mad because your inner omega wasn’t fulfilling their 'duties'.

Obviously, that was some sort of old wives tale, which you believed to be a load of horse shit. Even though there weren’t that many articles talking about late-blooming omegas, you found none about those damn superstitions. That didn’t stop people from trying to increase their chances of going into heat the moment they hit 20, for the fear of all that. Some go as far as getting surgery. And of course, your family and friends still believed some of this crap. Your friends would even try to trick you into going out to these speed dating events where they match you with others based on everyone's scents. Once you hit your 25th birthday your friends and family were very vocal about their concerns with your dating life. Your family would even guilt trip you or bring up that damn myth. Especially since you just turned 28 a few months ago and still no heat or mate like ‘everyone’ your age.

You have been courting Chris for almost a couple of years now. You’ve always been absolutely grateful for how patient he has been with you. Your lack of experience made you feel insecure since he’s much older than you. Never once have you ever felt pressured to do anything you were not comfortable with. If anything, you wanted to try more. To go beyond grinding your sex against his muscular thighs and stroking him over his boxers. Still, no matter how much you beg him nicely, he can't brush away the fear of him causing you harm. It's happened to everyone else he's been with. A small voice in the back of your head thought maybe it was because you haven’t had your first heat yet.

The moment you walked into the kitchen, you felt this immense pain in your abdomen, "Shit!" You hissed against clenched teeth, gripping the stone counter as you bent forward, your other hand pressing against your stomach. "What the hell." You waited for a moment in that position until your muscles relaxed. Slowly straighten up, you cautiously walk over to the sink. Sweat began to run down your forehead. Your chest felt tight as your breathing became labored, your knees began to shake. Suddenly you felt a stronger shot of pain go through your abdomen. You double over, slowly lowering yourself onto your knees. You tuck your legs underneath you, curling up in a ball. You slowly start rocking back and forward hoping it would help ease the pain in some way. The cold tile against your burning skin helped ground you just a little bit. “Fuck….” Your eyes start to sting, your muscles constricting longer than the first time. You don’t know how long you were on the floor, but by the time the pain slowly let up, you carefully got to your feet steadily using anything to help keep you up as you stopped by the living room to get your phone before heading to your room.

You slumped onto the bed. You carefully peeled off your clothes in the hope to cool off your burning skin. The feeling of the cool sheets against your skin helps only for a moment until another wave of pain crashes into you. The time between each episode of pain seems to get smaller and smaller. You were honestly scared at this point. You had no idea what was happening to you. You didn’t want to call the ambulance and deal with that bill. Your doctor's office was closed for the next 2 weeks, and you lived too far from your family. You reached around the bed trying to feel out for your phone. You quickly went through your contacts before the next wave of pain. You looked for your boyfriend's name before hitting the call button. You never called Chris while he was at work, only that one time you sprained your ankle while you were walking down a flight of stairs with a stack of boxes in your arms. Laying on your side you curled in on yourself as you listened to each ring. ‘This is Chris, sorry I ca-’ You hung up and hit the call button again. Tears were running down your cheek, feeling slightly cold against your blazing cheeks.

Chris was leaning back in his office chair as he tried to listen in to the conference call on speaker. He was looking at a file from a past mission, suddenly hearing the soft buzzing noise of his phone on the wooden desk. Sitting up he saw your name and a picture of the two of you lit up his screen. Waiting for the person who was currently talking to finish, before excusing himself, the buzzing stopped. Thinking he’d just call you after the meeting, his phone went off again. You never call again right after he missed your call. He knew something was seriously wrong. He abruptly interrupted the person talking, “I’m sorry everyone, I have an emergency. I’ll call one of you later to catch up on what I missed” And with that, he hit the end call on his office phone before anyone had anything to say. His phone only rang a couple more times before he was able to answer it. “Hey is everything okay?” Chris waited for a moment for you to reply but the only thing that came in through the receiver was you panting and small whines. “Y/n what's wrong?” Worry laced in his tone. “C-Chris. I… I don't know what's wrong with me.” he could now make out your sniffles. “Hey, hey, hey. What happened?” “Everything was fine and then my stomach started to hurt. I’m so hot.” You let out a sob, the pain now spreading to your lower back. “I don’t know what to do.” Chris quickly pushed himself out of his seat and gathered his things before walking out to the parking garage. “I’m leaving right now and heading over okay?” “But what if…. fuck, what if it’s my heat?” you sounded almost panicked. Chris almost stopped in his tracks. What if it was your heat? Now he didn’t know what to do. IF it was, this was your first one. He didn’t want you to go through it alone, but he also didn’t know if he had the right to help you through it. Yes, you guys are courting to become mates, but he also didn’t know if he’d be able to control himself. Your cry pulled him out of his thoughts as he approached his car and threw his belongings in the back. “I gotta let you go but I’ll be there in 10, I promise.” You hummed in response before disconnecting. Chris quickly went to the trunk of his car and started to rummage through a duffle bag until he found a half-face respirator. He placed it on the seat on the passenger’s side before making his way to your apartment.

Those 10 minutes felt like hours to you. The ceiling fan above the bed wasn’t doing anything for you. The sheets stuck to every curve only making you feel hotter. The fever was making your head pound, it felt like someone was knocking on the inside of your head. Not realizing it was actually your boyfriend knocking on the front door. Chris pressed his ear to the wooden door for a moment until he realized you were not coming to let him in. He quickly looked around your door for the spare key. Before unlocking the door and letting himself in he made sure all the straps on the respiratory were snug. He quickly shut the door behind him and locked it, hoping no one else caught wind of you. The masked helped a little, your pheromones were not as potent but he was definitely able to smell you out. Without any notice, he pushed open the door to your bedroom to find you tangled in the sheets. His inner alpha was getting restless as he got closer to you. Once he got close enough to sit on the side of the bed, he didn’t realize how tight his pants had gotten. “Hey, love?” he called out as he wiped the hair stuck to your damp forehead. You stirred awake, eyes slowly adjusting to the light. “Chris?” You whined, reaching out for him. “It's hot” Recognizing his calloused hands, you guided his hand to your abdomen and placed it there, “It hurts.” Tears roll down your red cheeks. As he looked down to where his hand sat, he caught a slight glimpse of your inner thighs covered in slick. Being this close to you the mask wasn’t doing anything for him, your sweet scent making his mouth water as his pupils dilated. Quickly trying to reign himself in he shifted where he sat before trying to get up, “Where’s your phone, I’ll call you mo-” “No” You squeezed his hand trying to pull him back towards you with whatever energy you had left in you. “Sweetheart, we need to get you someone who can help.”

You let out a small yelp from the pain. It felt like someone was stepping on your abdomen with all their weight. The pain on your face made him feel somewhat helpless. He wanted to help you but he didn't want to cross any lines. “Why can’t you help me?” you asked sounding a little hurt. The pregnant silence between the two of you was making your inner omega feel like he was rejecting you. “Sweetheart….. I-I don’t want to put you in more pain than you are already in. You grabbed his hand again, thinking you wanted the heat from his palms on your abdomen, but when you placed his large hand right over your aching sex, the man nearly choked on his breath. His middle finger easily slipped between your nether lips. “Shit.” he groaned. You rocked your hips trying to get any type of friction, rubbing your clit against his digit. “Please Alpha!” That was the end for him. That one word released the feral beast inside of him. Within a second he ripped off that damn forsaken mask and sank his finger deep inside your gushing pussy. Your walls were barely able to make room, the thought of even trying to shove his cock in you had him elicit a soft ‘fuck’ before he slowly started to pump in and out of you. Massaging your walls with the rough pad of his middle finger. Your gasps and moans egg him on. He slowly introduced another finger into your core, feeling around for that one spongey spot. He knew he found it when your hips lifted off the bed, trying to fuck yourself on them. Within seconds he had you soaking his hand and sheets. Slowly withdrawing his digits from you, your slick dripping down his hand to his wrists. Locking eyes with you, he took his sweet time lapping up the slick from his wrist to the tip. You couldn’t help but rub your legs together letting out a soft whine.

He releases his fingers with a pop. Within a swift motion, he ripped off his clothes, before crawling on top of you, peeling off the damp sheets from your heated body. He wanted to take his time with you, explore every inch of your body, find which spots had you crying out his name. However, he knew the fastest way to help ease most of your pain was to stuff that sweet cunt of yours with his knot. He gave himself a couple of pumps as he lined himself up to your entrance. He looked down at you, eyes filled with absolute adoration. “If you want to stop we can love.” You wrapped both of your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy needy kiss. Pressing his length against your folds. Pulling back for air for just a moment. “I want your fat cock in me now!” Letting out a low growl at your assertiveness, he slowly sank his throbbing member into you. He wanted to make sure you feel every inch of him, every vein and curve to him. You sink your head further into the mattress, mouth hung open with your brows knit together. The sting of the stretch was addictive, you never felt so full before. It felt like his cock was slowly pushing the air from your lungs and out your mouth.

Pressing his forehead to your shoulder, “Fuuuck, so goddamn tight.” He murmured against your burning skin, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses to the top of your breasts. He was already pressed up against your cervix and had yet to give you the last inch of him and his knot. The way you were contracting around him made it nearly impossible to not move while you adjusted to him. Your broken breaths caught his attention, trailing his lips up to your clavicle, along your jaw, and to your tear-stained cheek, kissing away any remanding tears. “I got you. I’ll make you feel good sweetheart okay?” You tightened around him at the pet name, causing him to give you a shallow thrust. After a couple more he slowly started to roll his hips into yours. Your soft mewls only make him want to pull more angelic sounds from you as he continues to bury himself into you.

Your legs were starting to get tired, thankfully Chris hooked both arms under your knees, pushing your knees to your chest. This allows him to press his knot against your slick covered lips. The way his pelvic hair brushed against your clit made you clench around him, with his name on your lips. “Ch-Chris I-” Your legs began to tense, your moans becoming breathy, rocking your hips in time with him. “You gonna cum for me?” he asks, picking up speed, reaching deep into your heat. You frantically nod your head with furrowed brows. “Come on sweetie. Cum for me. Cum for me.” Your mouth hangs open, barely able to keep your eyes open, “That’s it. Cum all over my fucking cock” He hissed against clenched teeth, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, slowly losing his rhythm as he chases high. He gave you a few more brutal thrusts sending you completely over the edge, gripping onto his forearms, your walls milking him for everything he's got. He soon followed you with one last thrust, plummeting into euphoria, shooting ropes after ropes into you. Right before you came down from your high he slipped in his knot, causing you to convulse around him for a moment longer.

Once the two of you laid there, your sweaty heated bodies pressed together, you didn’t realize all the pain you were in was completely gone like a flip of a switch. Chris released the grip on your legs, easing them back down. His warm calloused hands rubbed up and down your sides in a soothing tempo. You nuzzled your face against him, giving him a couple of kisses followed by a content sigh. “Thank you.” He hummed in response before turning his face to you, placing some slow soft kisses on your lips. “Anything for my little omega.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ°˖✧.*:･ Tag list: @thatgoblin , @interviewedchicken , @selenedeathdealer , @tiredbeebo

[9w1ft]

Thoughts on Bejeweled? Like the music video or the lyrics?

I'm kind of trying to find the analysis of that song but mainly in the perspective of Kaylor! I'm especially curious about the "but some guy said my aura's moonstone" lyric. Do you think Karlie's into auras and crystals and stuff? Curious to hear your and other Kaylor's thoughts!

oh my goodness anon!! you should’ve been around here when the music video was released it was mayhem here! there is a ridiculous amount of kaylor stuff in that video! like i don’t even know where to begin! did anybody make a masterpost??

here’s a link to my october archive filtered by photo. poke around there you should be able to find some bejeweled mv kaylor goodness

as for the lyrics i think i read somewhere or heard taylor say that it was related to this idea of having been in the folklore/evermore era and enjoying that but also wanting to get back out there with a pop album and prove that she can still crank out a smash hit in that genre. i think she might have said something alluding to wanting to get back to touring, too? don’t quote me on that though. i need to look it up.

i think i had a short something about it written around the release date i’ll try and find the post(s)

the lyric video for bejeweled is so similar to some of the graphics of lover era (the bursts of glitter and the bold caps sans serif font), especially some of the promo graphics around ME!..

and so for me, im not sure i really see the lyrics as necessarily related to kaylor or any relationship for that matter but more about her relationship with her fans or her performer persona, if that makes sense?

i might put it in the same category as mirrorball. taylor said somewhere (again sorry for speaking from memory but i believe it was the long pond studio sessions) that mirrorball was about making the decision to cancel loverfest and her feelings about that

and of course her explanations of songs aren’t always truthful or complete, and songs can potentially mean multiple things or be about multiple things, but i do see this similarity or the continuation of “i’ll get you out on the floor shimmering beautiful” / “shining just for you” and “best believe i’m still bejeweled when i walk in the room i can still make the whole place shimmer” “i polish up real nice” “a diamond’s gotta shine”

in terms of karlie and stones, im not sure but i do know she loves her gua sha!! that’s those jade tools you use to massage and drain the lymph nodes on your face and neck.

[ladychandraofthemoone]

Doodle Dump

Was suppose to add this on Halloween but I couldn’t finish the entire gang in monster au so here’s some random photos of my fav characters as humans, my splatoon au and more rambling.

A human Rosie (she’s afro-Brazilian,pan) with me trying to make her afro puffs looks like rose buns and Rebecca (Colombian/Chinese/Caribbean, pan and trans🏳️‍⚧️ ) in pretty outfits!! 💗💗 I’m still thinking if she should be Malagasy or Melanesian doodle with roses and sunflowers plus Dilly the Duck: plus some mini corner Rosie x 16 (Christopher/Warrior, first time doodling him, i might change his design later on) cause I love this ship so much, thank u @toast-com​ 🥰😍💓💞💗💖❣️

An attempt on body posture with Stanley, I adore his dreads. 💗❣️

More Stanley poses(mine likes wearing piercings and takes up boxing) plus an lazy attempt on Lady, I looked up Victorian style fashion and inspiration from the amazing folks here on tumblr(please ignore the half done braided dreadlocks and no face)

Ima add more ramblings so heads up cause it’s gotta get long and there are gotha be some sad and maybe dark topics so beware:

SPLATOON AU TIME: Here’s inkling Duncan (punk rock cause I was thinking of a pop idol vocaloid au, he’s thinking about Madge, i ship them), a younger Octoling Stanley who was an agent during the war with Kyle, who looks too much like Frye and Iono and is still easily excitable. Like their human counterparts, Stanley stayed away from others due to his jinx and was ostracized, not that they minded at all while Kyle was an orphan, having lost their family to a massive heatwave and famine. They end up bumping into each other with Kyle being amazed and in awe 🤩🤩of meeting an Octoling, instead of running away or avoiding him like Stanley is use to, they instead compliments him and asks so many questions, flustering and overwhelming him a lot so it just went from there (there’ s a whole storyline that I haven’t figure out yet but kyle gets kidnapped and stanley recuses him and they become a couple later on im working no the details)

Plus some Stanley x Andreas shipping, just some boyfriends doing each other's hair. it was based off that overwatch photo of Lucio doing Junkrat’s hair and I thought it was cute and adorable 💞💓💖💗

Some more hair practice with stanley-

ALSO MORE SPLATOON AU!! Luke is an octoling like Stanley and thus was accused of killing someone (Victor though I don’t know how that works here) and an entire town so he’s on the run until he meets Inkling Ivo Hugh, an newbie to the games as they become battle partners and try to solve the mystery (I haven’t figured out who most of the cast is, though Rusty is also an Octoling)

Stanley and Kyle(Proteus is his stage name) becomes idols after fighting in the war together (stanley was Agent 2, Kyle the inkling was 7) before settling down together as musical influences, a younger octoling Stanley before everything went to hell, Kyle wearing a Frye inspired outfit and wears a mask inspired by Lord Ganesha (he’s Indian/Arab), Stanley leans more towards his Cherokee/Mohawk Iroquis/Creole myths, legends and folklore on coyote and foxes(get it? red fox-) (haven’t draw him yet bu andreas leans more towards argentine dance folklorico, duncan’s rock n roll)

 here so I’ve been trying to figure out their names, like Dead Sea, Kyle is blatantly inspired by Frye in appearance and dance, and loves hanging out with Stanley. Like folks think it’s Stanley they should avoid and rumors tend to spread but nope it’s Kyle cause they once threw a chair at someone making fun of Stanley, Kyle may be a overly happy, optimistic chap but they won’t take nicely to anyone picking on their loved ones. He’s a protective bf 😍🥰

More Madge!! I based her off of April from rottmnt though Im making blasian(Jamacian-Japanese, i also wanna make her latina but I feel like Im being biased 😓😅) she was born without her lower left part of her arm so she wears a prothestic that she decorates with stickers and paint she’s very decora kei lolita in her free time but finds ways to wear it. She was slightly based off od  ButterFrogMantis on DA human madge design but now I’m an idiot an just realized it was mean's to be like her three wheels (gosh why didn’t I notice that sooner but better late than never I suppose)

 Duncan in a punk-rock style, i had trouble with the mohawk and should’ve added more stuff to him, I’ll do it for the idol au-

[lampmanliveblogs]

Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Hooty’s Door Addendum

So here’s all that stuff I said I was gonna talk about that I didn’t talk about.

First of, as per usual, I did a rewatch and here are some things I either missed or neglected to mention the first time through:

•Lilith’s letter has adorable little ravens decorating it. I’m choosing to believe she drew those herself. •There’s a bunch of cameos from various demons we’ve seen before in the show during Hooty’s health class. Notably, the abominable giraffe once again makes an appearance in a drawing. •I’ll talk a bit more about it in a bit, but the shockwave circles generated by King’s new powers look pretty snazzy. They’re multicolored and not a single color like most magic circles we see witches draw. Again, more on that in a bit. •I mentioned briefly that Dell was planning on leaving and by the sounds of it, he was gonna be away for a while. Based on Present!Eda’s reaction to seeing him, I get the feeling that she has not seen him in a long time, possibly not since that night when she turned into the Owlbeast and attacked him. •You know, I said in the last episode that I hoped we’d get to see Raine soon again, and wouldn’t you know it, we got to see Raine again. Granted, I was thinking maybe Eda & The Gang would do some awesome rescue operation to free them from Belos' clutches, but I guess a flashback is fine too.•During the flashback scene with Crescent Moon, they throw some magic sparks at the Owlbeast. Those sparks look nearly identical to the sparks Dell’s fireworks made. I bring this up because it ties into a theory I’m gonna be discussing in a bit. •Speaking of the scene with Crescent Moon. there is a remain of an ancient monster in the Boiling Sea. I can’t recall if we’ve seen it before, but it’s certainly not the Titan. It might be one of the partial skeletal remains King mentioned had been spotted (back in Young Blood, Old Souls). If so, then it implies that the scene took place far away from the Boiling Isles. •You gotta love how Luz is completely submerged in water during the Tunnel of Love ride but comes out of it perfectly dry.

Now comes the theory portion of this post. Let’s start with…

The Power of a King King has voice powers now, eh? That is sure to only result in good things.

We know practically nothing about King’s powers at this stage, which means I can throw out any number of theories. In fact, we can’t even be sure that it’s really magic, it might just be some kind of biological quirk of his particular species of demon. But for now I’m assume it’s magic.

I brought up that the magic blast his scream generates is unlike the magic circles witches draw in that it’s multicolored and not a single color. His magic also doesn’t appear to be elemental in the same way glyphs are. So my theory is that it’s some kind of wild magic that King is able to harness. So he might not be able to cast as complicated spells as a witch, but maybe he can harness greater power as a result?

If it is wild magic andKing’s species can naturally draw upon it, then that could be another piece of evidence for my theory about Belos being opposed to King’s tribe.

I have some more ideas about King’s magic and it being based on his voice, but those ideas feel too half-formed and scattered, so I’ll keep them to myself for now. I will say this though: Magic words and speaking things into being is a common trope when it comes to magic in mythology, folklore and fantasy stories.

Eda and the Owlbeast I threw out the idea about the Inner Owlbeast being a form of parasite, which is why it appeared as it did within Eda’s dreams, not her when she is transformed into the beast, but as a similar, but different-looking beast. I also said that the scene on the beach was weird and that I was gonna tlak about it later. So let’s do that.

Eda was able to communicate and bargain with the Owlbeast, implying that it an entity of its own. We also see Eda and the beast are tied together with red string. I talked a bit about it, but that string likely represent how they two are forever connected and intertwined.

Let’s back up a bit, back to the scene with Crescent Moon. We see Crescent moon attack and attempt to capture the Owlbeast. She manages to escape and flies out over the BoilingSea. Her wings burn up and she falls into the seas. The Owlbeast then turn into the curse scroll, which washes up ashore and is found by someone. The scroll then later ended up at the night market where Lilith found it.

When I first watched that scene, I thought it was another one of Eda’s memories, but now I think it might actually be the memory of the Owlbeast from before it became part of Eda through the curse.

I think the Owlbeast either existed as its own creature or had a previous host, one that had likely been consumed entirely by the curse at that point. Crescent moon tried to capture the beast for some reason, but it managed to escape. Then it fell into the oiling Sea. At that point the Owlbeast reverted back into the curse scroll from whence it came (because the host died) or if it wasn’t a curse, it was turned into a curse scroll through some unknown process.

I brought up that the sparks Crescent Moon threw at the Owlbeast looked similar to the sparks from Dell’s fireworks. I think that might’ve been what triggered the Owlbeast in that situation, because it was reminded of Crescent Moon. It might even be that Eda transforming when she’s under great stress is some kind of defensive mechanism where the Owlbeast can sense the danger and forces itself to the surface to protect Eda and by extension, itself.

The one big thing that messes with this theory is the fact that Lilith has the curse too now. Does she have her own Owlbeast (or Ravenbeast) in her mind now? We don’t know. Cause if she does, then… that might mess with my theory.

Whatever the truth may be, I think we’ll see further exploration of the curse and its origin. I also have a feeling we’ll be seeing Crescent Moon again. You don’t make a character design that cool and then just never use it again.

In Conclusion This was a pretty great episode. The first part with King was good, the second part with Eda was fantastic and the third part with Luz & Amity was legendary, such an iconic moment.

Going into the episode, I was expecting mostly comedic relief about Hooty trying to help out and screwing it up, but maybe helping out in the end. Which was kinda what happened, but with considerably less comedic relief than I was expecting and a heck of a lot more character development than I was expecting.

You know, you’d expect each of the revelations in this episode would garner and episode each, so in that sense, it was a pretty effective episode. That thing I said about this season feeling like the writers are constantly poking me to make sure I don’t fall asleep or lose interest still stands. It’s been a lot. A lot of great stuff.

The obvious stand out moment of the episode was of course, Luz asking Amity out. Well, Amity did ask her first, but you know what I mean. No more meandering, no waiting until the season finale, we’re at episode eight in season two and Lumity is canon. Woo!

The thing I loved especially about that scene was just how fumbling and awkward it was. It felt very real and genuine in that way. These are two kids, in love for the first time in their lives, of course they’re gonna stumble and not know what to do. Of course it’s gonna be scary. And of course it’s not gonna be some perfect fairy tale moment like Luz might’ve wanted, but it’s like Eda said: ”Does it really have to be?”

I also feel the need to praise the Eda portion of the episode some more. The visuals and animation during that whole dream sequence was great and I love how it kept me on my toes because I never knew what to expect in the next moment.

So, the thing we can all take way from this is to never doubt Lord Hooty! Until next time, take care of the planet Earth and remember that anything can happen in space!

<--Previous Episode: Eda's Requiem

Masterlist

Next Episode: TBD-->

[thesoulspulse]

Regarding the Fright Knight (Part 1)

I know I’ve already written several things about the Fright Knight recently but I rewatched his intro episode and figured I’d share some thoughts on the episode itself and then later we’ll talk about his downfall as a character so to speak.

Now before y’all start yelling at me being all ‘le gasp’ just hear me out!

I absolutely love the Fright Knight, he’s literally one of my top favorite characters in the show up there with Danny himself, Dan, Danielle (aka Dani), and Vlad. I like Nocturne too but only for his voice and design, but moving on! That said, it’s just one of those situations where they set up a cool character but then he kinda dropped off the map and the series ended.

Anyways, lets get started!

1) That eel ghost at the start of the episode has the same energy redirection power that Vlad does that we only ever saw him use once, just an interesting fact. I made a gif of the eel to show that but didn’t make a gif of it shooting the actual rays back at Danny though.

2) Ugh, I was just talking the other day about how I really like Mr. Lancer’s character but I hate it when he is only there as a plot device but not in a good way. I mean, why is he on DANNY’S case when Dash’s clearly the one with the more aggressive body language here...? Sure Danny spilled paint on Dash’s jacket but it was clearly an accident and Dash is the one being hostile.

This is pure cartoon logic of “oh, he’s a jock and therefore important to the school so he doesn’t get punished, only our poor hero” when no, that’s not how things work in any school, or at least they shouldn’t. You pick someone up by the collar like this in front of a teacher you either get detention or suspended, NOT the freaking victim too.

Mr Lancer even says: “True. Still, I must at least *pretend* to be fair, and you two need a more creative outlet for your aggressions.” Seriously, what kind of teacher talks like that? I just get tired of this stupid and frankly annoying high-school trope because not all cartoon teachers are so dismissive...

3) I know its a kids show and Danny is prone to doing stupid things, but at least for me this was a bit much. Dash and Danny turned their assignment to avoid detention into a bet which is all fine and dandy, but what gets me is Dash’s side of the bet if Danny loses which is absolutely disgusting.

Tucker phrases it best: “I don’t know what’s scarier. The underwear, or the fact he carries them around in his coat!” And I agree, why would any sane person carry something like that?! Screw cartoon logic, that’s just sick and wrong on so many levels and frankly I think it’s the “scariest” part of this whole episode. I think they should have tried harder to come up with a better punishment for Danny if he lost the bet than eating someone’s undergarments. Ugh, I want to vomit just writing this...but moving on!

4) Finally we’re over most of the parts I don’t like about this episode so let’s move on to the parts I DO like such as it being canon that Danny is actually surprisingly good at drawing. I even used this later in my fanfic “Turning Point” as a character trait Dani adopted to try and be more her own person since its not really that much of a pass time to Danny...

Still, just look at how fast he drew this! Cartoon logic or not that’s pretty good, that is, if you don’t mind that the skeleton has no feet lolz.

5) This is probably one of my favorite things that happened in this episode - apart from just everything the Fright Knight does- where Sam shares the Chronicles of the Fright Knight written by an unknown author. I’m a sucker for a good ghost story or some folklore so when it turned out the book was totally accurate and there’s proof that someone human from ancient times has SEEN the Fright Knight and managed to escape the Ghost Zone to write this, I was instantly hooked.

6) I gotta give Danny props for at least trying to mimic the Fright Knight’s aesthetic for his haunted house room. And considering the poor kid doesn’t get an allowance to help him make fancier props, it’s not all that bad.

7) Ok, first of all I gotta ask. Why has no one ever talked about Danny possessing the puppet he made of the Fright Knight? We’ve seen him possess other people and overshadow his computer, but this right here really makes me really wish we got an episode where Danny’s soul got trapped in a doll or something. Also, the dramatic voice he started off with wasn’t half-bad. If he had kept talking like that and yes, I agree maybe had a scarier puppet for the centerpiece of his presentation, I think Danny had a pretty solid idea here with some potential.

8) As usual it bugs me sometimes when Danny’s parents are written to be so harsh on Danny. Especially his dad who gets instantly suspicious about Danny doing an “anti-detention” project the moment he hear’s Mr. Lancer mentioned. To be fair he’s not wrong, but it’s still sad that Jack automatically assumed that.

9) I mentioned this in another post: https://thesoulspulse.tumblr.com/post/663141889897365504/halloween-in-amity-park but I’ll get to this later because there’s something the Fright Knight says later in this episode that sparked my interest that relates to these ecto-storms Danny’s parents mention that appear every year around Halloween.

10) When Danny goes to check out Dash’s haunted house room the puppets are definitely much higher quality than Danny’s, but lets be honest, I am like 95% he bullied/paid off someone into making those animatronics for him. Dash is just NOT that smart, sorry. I can see him being pretty creative and making the first part of the room himself that’s true, but there comes a point where I just don’t believe Dash set up all of that. To give Dash some credit though, I do like his zombie jock costume.

Also, come on Mr. Lancer, the guy doesn’t even bother to hide the bullying theme in his room which isn’t even scary so why are you so impressed with it? This my friends is what I like to call “Story-written stupid” where a character acts a certain way that’s unnaturally out of character for them specifically for plot reasons and nothing else since it would make no sense for them to be this dumb or willfully blind to the obvious.

Lastly, Dash’s whole “20 minute presentation about the horrors of athletes foot” is just gross, it’s not scary at all. It’s not even a good kind of gross for Halloween so it just bugs me that Mr. Lancer is oh-so-impressed by it. Even Danny feels outmatched and I keep thinking, why? The theme is only partially good at first and honestly I don’t see how any of this has to do with Halloween.

11) One more thing, Dash has his underwear for the bet DISPLAYED in his haunted house room in a glass case that says “Reserved For Fenton” and I’m just...UGH, Mr. Lancer why didn’t you notice that?!

I’m going to stop here since the post is getting really long now and I ended up ranting more than I meant to so sorry about that, things have been a bit hectic at home. Still, I’m excited for Halloween despite all that and hope I’ll get to enjoy that a bit now that I’m at least mostly recovered from covid. And with that, I’ll see you in the next part of this deep-dive episode analysis!

Part 2: https://thesoulspulse.tumblr.com/post/666367942726959104/regarding-the-fright-knight-part-2

[emcandon]

Ronin + folklore + ghost stuff

Compilation of a Twitter thread I did a couple days ago:

Here by popular demand, it’s time to talk Japanese folklore and ghosts in #StarWarsVisions RONIN! I’m going to keep it spoiler-lite, but there will be some vague references to characters, world, and themes.

One of the first things I did upon being offered this project was sit down and start listing folkloric entities and concepts that I wanted to see translated into Star Wars.

For example, my eternal favorite, Yamamba/Yama-uba the mountain hag, a ravenous old ogre woman known for devouring travelers and their wagons alike. Conversely, she’s also the doting adoptive mother of Kintarou, the golden boy, a child of the forest who grows up wrestling animals and eventually becomes Sakata no Kintoki, a loyal retainer to Minamoto no Yorimitsu.

Kintarou exists in a kind of historical-folkloric gray space, similar to Benkei, a warrior monk who I also deeply wanted to use but couldn’t ultimately find room for.

Benkei is famous for taking issue with samurai—these jerks and their swords, forever betraying their moral responsibilities! He vowed to duel and overcome 1,000 samurai, taking their swords as his trophies. He reached 999 before he met Minamoto no Yoshitsune and (you guessed it), became his loyal retainer, having been awed by his martial prowess and moral resilience.

You can see how Benkei’s whole deal kind of shows up in one of the RONIN cast members, though I idly headcanon that there’s a Benkei equivalent out there in the RONIN universe, beating up Jedi and Sith alike…

Now for an entity that DID show up: kitsune. Fox spirits in China and Korea are more consistently wicked and untrustworthy, but they’re more likely to be ambiguous or even straight-up benevolent in Japanese tales. Notably, kitsune may still possess a person and drive them cuckoo bananas, or maliciously trick them, but they’re also associated with Inari, a Shinto deity of harvest and good fortune.

As masters of illusion and shapeshifting, they can also be somewhat gender ambiguous. A kitsune may appear as a man, a woman, or…? Which is to say that I knew right off the bat that a kitsune character would be either nb or genderfluid.

Another one I wanted to bring in but couldn’t find room for: GASHADOKURO. Giant skeletons! “Gashadokuro mech” is somewhere in my notes and I’m still sad that I couldn’t figure it out. Gotta wait until THE ARCHIVE UNDYING for giant bone mecha I guess. There’s a famous triptych of Takiyasha, a rebel princess, summoning a gashadokuro in an act of girlboss witchcraft to come eat the emperor’s loyal vassals, who are begging her to stop rebelling, please.

Speaking of women becoming ungovernable, onryo, vengeful spirits, are kind of curse-like in their existence. The J-Horror “The Grudge” is just “Onryo” in JP, if that gives you a sense of how sticky these hauntings can get. Onryo are usually women, and they often share some visual features—think of that omnipresent Japanese ghost hair, long and wild, creeping everywhere… (Or ask my wife what it’s like to share a living space w/me when my hair’s long.)

Probably the most famous onryo in classic literature is Oiwa of Yotsuya Kaidan, a kabuki play about a woman wronged by a samurai, whose yearning for vengeance haunts him until his dying day…

Ghosts aren’t solely vicious, frightening entities, however! Obon is the yearly ghost festival where we welcome the dead back to our homes, rejoice in their arrival, and strive to send them back on their way. There’s dancing, festival foods, and lots and lots of light—lanterns, bonfires, the works—all to help guide the spirits of the beloved lost on their way to where they belong.

As for where else spirits and so forth belong…mountains. Strange things happen in the mountains, you know! As a mountainous archipelago you’d think that means strange things happen EVERYWHERE, but, well. There is the village, and there’s what lies beyond the boundary. Look for the points of transition. Torii shrine gates, stairs, bridges…

That’s all for now. Enjoy digging through Ronin’s secrets—and if you need more folklore, check out Tono Monogatari, Hyakki Yagyo, and Bakemono no e!

Extra: I just remembered that I thought about the cross-section of tsukumogami and droids. Household items that have been around for one hundred years may become tsukumogami—a sort of animate inanimate object. Frequently depicted as umbrellas or sandals or lanterns, etc.

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

Dean Winchester x Jeremy Bradshaw ??

Idk if you are asking re my post the other day about Angels or just generally, but just to be transparent Dean's OTP in Angels is Cas and I will not be permitting outsiders.

however, for purposes of um, brainstorming - for you know Science, I mean 10/10 Dean would find Professor Jeremy Bradshaw attractive. Dean THEEEE king of having a thing for authority figures Winchester? Dean 'I like men in uniform,' Dean 'I like doctors' Winchester? And snarky, I'm Always Right Professor Jeremy Bradshaw? (Also I mean. it goes without saying He Is Dean's Type ;)).

Yeah our boy would be A Whole Mess over this man.

However, I'm not entirely certain how Professor Bradshaw would feel about Dean. I can, however imagine the conversation that would ensue...and I wrote it down for you, nonnie - under the cut!

Dean's having a really long day, and it's only 9:00 a.m.

Yeah, he got his four hours last night, but still - hauling ass to school of all places this early in the morning - well, cracking the books at the first sign of the sun's never been one of Dean's favorite things.

But the mysterious disappearances in the Bridgewater Triangle are all over the papers - and according to the Lore (which now apparently comes in the medium of podcast), this isn't the first occurrence of paranormal activity in the area.

So here they are.

Sam's gone to nerd heaven in the university library, leaving Dean stuck talking to their primary witness.

Who happens to be - a professor of fucking folklore? What are the odds?

Dean waits for the stream of students pouring from the open door of the classroom to peter out before he slides inside. The man he's seeking out is still lingering in front of the rows of uncomfortable looking chairs. They're the kind with seats that stick straight up to the ceiling when a posterior isn't weighing them down.

"Jer- um, Professor?" Dean's not sure why he's hesitating, but something about leading with 'Jeremy' seems entirely too familiar for someone he's just met.

Especially when that someone is standing in front of him at a podium of all things, looking like an intriguing mixed bag of business casual blazer and rumpled button down shirt, dark swoops of hair grazing the sides of his face, still messy - as if he couldn't possibly bother with brushing it this morning.

Dean's never been to college but he's starting to think he understands why Sammy won't shut up about his 'time at Stanford.'

The professor is looking at him oddly.

Dean realizes he's literally stopped speaking and they're just standing in the middle of the classroom in stone silence. "Erhm. Dean Winchester. Aquarius," Dean blurts out, feeling a little unhinged.

He suddenly realizes he's given this man his real name as opposed to this week's FBI alias, and now he's going to have to explain why he's here in a suit and quickly-growing-more-uncomfortable tie.

Maybe not though, because the expression staring back at Dean is the epitome of 'I could care less.'

"Jeremy Bradshaw," he says in a melodic timbre, and yeah maybe Dean could sit through a lecture if this dude gave it.

"I don't really subscribe to the idea of the zodiac, so I hope you don't mind if I don't share my birth chart with you," Professor Bradshaw continues. There's a snarky little bite to his syllables that pricks the back of Dean's neck in a funny way. "Pray tell, what can I assist you with other than directions to the astrology department?"

Dean's not sure what he was expecting (maybe some mild mannered dude, dorkier than even Cas?), but it certainly wasn't all...this.

He clears his throat. "My brother Sam and I, we uh. We hunt monsters!"

What is happening to him? Maybe the supernatural creature they're hunting is the professor himself.

Potentially-Monster-of-the-Week-slash-Professor Sexy Bradshaw seems equally confused by Dean's demeanor.

"Monsters aren't real," he says almost gently - the equivalent of a 'there, there' to a recalcitrant child who's inquiring about a candy bar in the grocery checkout line. "Trust me, folklore is my primary field of study."

"Um," Dean continues, feeling suddenly very much like he's shown up for a final exam entirely unprepared. "Well, actually - they are."

This is going great.

Professor Bradshaw frowns a little, and Dean can see by the press of his lips he's starting to lose patience with him. "Mr. Winchester, was it? Listen, I've dealt with enough people who believe the things you do to know minds can't often be changed, but I can genuinely tell you that there's an explanation for anything you may be ascribing to the...paranormal."

He takes the wire-rimmed glasses from his nose, simultaneously pulling a handkerchief out of the pocket of his slacks, and wipes the lenses carefully.

Dean watches his movements like he's in a fever dream.

Dude's gotta be a siren or something.

Professor Bradshaw slides the spectacles back on and purses his lips with a sigh. "If you like, however - I'm always happy to discuss the supernatural in terms of academia. I have the background."

Great. The last thing Dean 'GED and a give-em-hell attitude' Winchester needs right now is to discuss his actual godforsaken job in terms of...academia.

After a moment of collecting himself, Dean decides to go with:

"What is your background, exactly?"

Maybe there's a back door approach here.

He slams down on the next incoming thought prompted by his use of this particular terminology with particularly intense vehemence. If the professor sees Dean squirming, he doesn't comment, replying instead:

"I happen to have a PhD in - "

Dean doesn't even let him finish the sentence. "A PhD? Like a doctorate?"

Professor Bradshaw nods, increasing irritation tensing the lines of his jaw. The toe of his extremely sensible Oxford shoe is starting to tap a little beat on the faded hardwood of the classroom floor.

Dean knows it's not the same as a medical doctorate.

He's aware.

But that doesn't stop him from picturing Doctor-Monster-Professor-Bradshaw sporting a white jacket and scrubs, with a dangling stethoscope replacing the bowtie that's currently perched on his neck.

Professor Bradshaw's eyes are blinking at Dean. They're full of confusion.

He suddenly notices that they are also very, very, very blue.

Yeah - Dean's gonna have a really long day.

[fandom-hoarder]

[rejected scene; gen weechesters; 1991]

“Boy, what the hell d’you think you’re doin’?” Bobby demands when he finds Sam looking through a cupboard in his study that weekend, practically half inside it.

Sam pops his head out and blinks up at Bobby. “Uncle Bobby, can I borrow a book?”

“Borrow a book?”

Sam nods. “I finished all my catch-up packets and I don’t wanna read The Tower Treasure again.”

“The Tower Treasure?”

“Yep. That’s the Hardy Boys book in Dean’s bag,” Sam answers, starting to dig through the cupboard again. There are small books in there – smaller than the tomes on Bobby’s shelves that look like they’d crumble if Sam touched them – so there’s got to be something for him. But there are also a lot of loose papers and little carved boxes and trinkets.

“Look, kid, get outta there. Don’t you think you’ve been doin’ enough readin’, if you finished that packet already? Why don’tcha go play with your brother?”

Sam stops digging in the cabinet obediently and sighs at the floor. “He’s mad cuz I was in his stuff,” he admits.

“You don’t say,” Bobby says, raising his eyebrows sarcastically. “Well, I don’t have any kid books in there. And your daddy warned me about what happened to the last library book someone checked out for ya.”

Sam pales. “That wasn’t my fault!”

“Well, kid, you’ll have to talk to him about that. I don’t care whose fault it was, but I’m not puttin’ my library access at risk so you can read Dick and Jane.

“Dick and Jane are stupid and boring!” Sam insists, shocked. “I’m eight, Uncle Bobby, not four! C’mon, you gotta have something I can read,” Sam does the puppy eyes up at Bobby, desperate.

“Quit that,” Bobby says gruffly. “The paper’s out there on the table. Why don’tcha read that? There’s funny pages in there, at least.”

“I already read the funny pages and Dear Abby,” Sam replies, continuing the puppy eyes.

“Fine, fine, let’s see what I’ve got… Can you read Latin yet?”

Sam’s pretty sure Bobby is joking.

_

“You have a lotta notebooks,” Sam observes, peeking at Bobby’s desk over the top of the encyclopedia of Egyptian mythology he’s reading. He bet Harriet M. Welsch would be jealous of Bobby’s notebooks.

Bobby looks up from his own reading. “I guess I do. I didn’t write most of ‘em, though. I just collected ‘em.”

“What for? From who? What’s in them?”

“From whom. And that isn’t as important as what’s in them.”

“So, what’s in them?” Sam repeats, fingers tight on the book forgotten in his lap.

“Folklore. Mythology. Anecdotes. Helpful information.”

“Helpful how?” Sam frowned. He loved reading myths, but he wasn’t sure if he would call them helpful. Unless… “You mean like how fables and bible stories tell people how to act? Like the story of Anubis weighing the hearts?” Sam points to the page he’s currently reading. “Or Michael weighing souls on Judgement Day?”

Bobby blinks at him, “Well… yeah, sorta like that. And, you know, uh… cultural information. Historical information.”

Sam ‘hmm’s and continues reading his encyclopedia a few more minutes, but soon realizes he’s not paying attention to what he’s reading. He looks over at Bobby’s stack of notebooks again. “Can I see them?”

Bobby looks at him cockeyed, then at the stack of books. “Maybe when you’re older.”

Sam scowls. “Why is that always the answer? When will I be old enough to know things?!” He huffs his breaths, feeling like the cartoon big, bad wolf.

“I don’t know, kid,” Bobby answers honestly, and that lets the wind out of Sam’s sails.