#me and the terrifying strong powerful king i pulled by having depression

[aphomic]

Dopie is Ozy's lil meow meow now I don't make the rules here

Doppie tagging behind Ozy's back bc the crowd has suddenly grown larger and he's now anxious

[skellebonez]

Hmmm how about MK and Monkie King with number 1 and number 45

I wanted to write a follow up to a certain fill that got some wonderful art recently too! But then the finale happened and now I made it depressing, sorry. Spoilers for... everything as this is set 3 days after the final episode. This also plays around with the “Sun Wukong is still super immortal and powerful but...” and other theories. (second prompt line is only used as inspiration in fill)

Do not give me that look./ You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child.

The moment MK's curse was lifted and he was re-aged from 4 years old to adult Wukong acted like nothing had happened at all. No understanding conversations about how his powers could hurt him, no cooking together, no video games, and no accidental couch naps. It was as if the entire day had been undone to the sands of time.

But MK remembered and when the literal next day Wukong announced he was going on vacation... let's just say he was not happy in the slightest. He had tried to voice his objections, citing the Spider Queen as a prime example for why they should be worried, but the immortal monkey just flashed him dual thumbs up with a “Monkey King Out!” and flashed off somewhere MK couldn’t follow.

And now he was back and while MK had been more than happy to get going at first, to push everything that happened deep down inside him and ignore it for as long as possible (why was he doing that, he needed to stop doing that, look where that got them he was a mistake a bad choice as a successor and now he’s barely a successor at all) there was only so long he could go before it became clear there was more wrong than what Sun Wukong was telling him.

There was more wrong with Sun Wukong himself that he refused to admit.

He tried to hide it as well as he could. Despite the heat outside and the fur covering his body he still wore full body clothing. Hiding away the gashes and healing scars that riddled his form now. There was a nick in his eyebrow that had never gone away, and when MK watched closely he could see his mentor sometimes place his hand too far to the left when grabbing something. He walked with a slight limp, though that had improved over the last few days.

And he was quiet. Yes, when someone was addressing him he was “yeah totally, we got this fam, onward westward!”, but when MK caught him alone... especially outside on the deck of the drone, watching the horizon, he was more quiet and still than the Monkie Kid had ever seen him before.

Or maybe he was always like this and now Wukong was too hurt or distracted enough or just didn’t care anymore that MK was finally seeing him.

It was hard to tell with how distant he had been the last three days. Distant in the same way the day after the curse was lifted, but quieter.

“We need to talk,�� He said from behind his mentor, watching as Wukong’s tail jumped only a little. Maybe that was just surprise at the words themselves. “Alone. Please.”

He expected Wukong to brush him off, to say “aw bud, can’t it wait? look at the sunset!” despite the sun having set so far they barely had any light left or something else. But instead he straightened up (MK heard the slight crack of his back again, much softer than when he had first heard it after their crash landing, and he wondered how much his back had healed from whatever injury it had) and turned to his student with an odd expression. Somewhat soft and fond and somewhat worried and resigned. Like this was more than just 3 days coming (and it was).

“Let’s... get something to eat first, alright?”

MK didn’t mention that they had eaten just over an hour ago.

~

They sat in the kitchen of the drone, alone under the dimmed lights with cups of tea and sliced fruit between them (mostly for Wukong). Neither had said anything as they prepared the small snack, and neither said anything as they sat down and took sips of their tea.

MK had made it slightly too strong.

“What did you want to ask first?” Wukong started off, picking up a peach slice and biting into it carefully. Slowly. This was something else that was noticed. Before when eating the Monkey King would just shove whatever he was eating in his mouth and MK wasn't certain he tasted it. But now it was like he was trying to make every meal last as long as possible. “There’s... a lot. I can tell.”

“We spent an entire day together and then you left without telling me anything,” MK said firmly, gripping the tea cup in his hands. He squeezed harder, just to see what would happen. It should have shattered... it didn’t. “Why didn’t you just... say something?”

“... I thought I was protecting you,” Wukong admitted honestly, taking another bite of peach. “And the city, the others...  That if I acted distant you wouldn’t wonder where I went a-”

“Wouldn’t wonder wh- no!” MK interrupted, gritting his teeth. “No, Monkey K- Wukong.” The change in how MK addressed him made Wukong jolt, looking at him with wide eyes. He had never called him by his name before now. “We spent an entire day together. You took care of me, helped me when my powers went haywire, helped me make food! You never treated me like that before! You treated me like... Like I was...”

“My kid,” Wukong finished for him, now looking down into his tea cup. “MK... You’re an adult, I know that, but somewhere down the line I started to think of you as... I didn’t know till then I guess, and that terrified me. The idea of you getting hurt that day was the only thing that compared to admitting I got attached to you as more than just my student.”

Had this revelation come sooner MK might have been more surprised. More disbelieving. But after that day and everything that happened once the curse was gone...

“... you have a funny way of showing it,” MK snapped without thinking, eyes widening and jolting upright when he realized what he had said. “I-”

“Don’t,” Wukong said with a shake of his head, sipping his tea with a sigh. “You deserve to be angry with me. I talked to, uh... Pigsy? Sandy too. Tang.... Mei. Your boss in particular laid into me pretty hard after the excitement died down... Don’t know how I went 1000 years without knowing what a ‘lie by omission’ was.”

“... you abandoned me.”

“Yes... I didn’t mean it that way, but that doesn’t change that I did.”

“You didn’t trust me.”

“NO.” Wukong said firmly, voice raised for the first time in days. MK glowered at him. “No, that is one thing I will not back down on. Yes, I lied to you and left you behind and that was a mistake I will need to make up for over a long time, but it wasn’t because I didn’t trust you. I trusted you to take care of yourself, to teach yourself the lessons I left behind, and take care of the city. And you did! You did so much better than I even hoped for, and I hoped so badly that you would do as well as you did! I didn’t leave you there because I didn’t trust you, I left you there because I did... and because I thought I had to do everything myself...” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “I’ve been alone so long... I forgot I could do things with help on my end, I guess...”

“If... If Lady Bone Demon hadn’t finished what she was doing...?”

“Had the Lady Bone Demon not been working faster than I thought she was I would have come back with nothing less than even more trust in you as my successor.”

“... am I even still your successor without...?” MK trailed off, trying to keep his voice level. The tea cup still held strong.

“Yes,” Wukong assured, reaching out to put a hand on MK’s shoulder. MK noticed how he almost missed and corrected his hand. “The staff and my powers alone didn’t make you my successor. I picked you before those, remember? You’re still the Monkie Kid, MK. Nothing is going to change that for me.”

The young man went quiet for a moment, taking a shaky breath. He wanted to ask why he was chosen, what made him so special... but there would be time for that in the future. For now he had gotten at least some of his questions answered. But there was something much more pressing to touch on.

“,,, you’ve been lying to all of us,” he accused suddenly, reaching up and grabbing the wrist of Wukong’s hand on his shoulder before he could pull back. He looked his mentor in the face, watching as Wukong’s eyes widened in realization and horror. “Do not give me that look. Stop... please, stop lying. I’m not stupid, I can see you’re still hurt bad. You’re supposed to be invincible but you came back hurt and... and almost nothing can hurt you!”

Wukong didn’t meet MK’s gaze, looking down at their snack as he breathed heavily and shakily. He knew he was caught, that much was obvious.

“Please... talk to me, for once. I know I do the same thing, I lied to everyone else by not telling them about LBD or the calabash or Macaque coming back-” Wukong tensed at that, an odd sound escaping his throat. “-and look where it got us. We both need to talk. To everyone else. To each other.”

Wukong’s arm was shaking where MK held it, but he didn’t try to pull it back. Not until MK let it go. He sat back down, looking at the table like it held all the secrets of the universe before bringing his hand up to cover his eye. The one with the nicked eyebrow.

“Bud...” Wukong started, biting his lip. There was something wrong in his tone. “I... you were going to find out eventually. I can’t keep this up forever, not like Macaque can.” MK tensed at the mention of the other immortal monkey, watching as Wukong did not move his hand. “This takes a lot of focus. And... with my invincibility partly gone-”

“What?” MK asked, so soft he thought Wukong hadn’t heard him.

“... You didn’t get my powers from the staff, MK,” Wukong said. “And they don’t just duplicate. That’s not how they work. From day one I have been... siphoning my powers to you. Bit by bit. As you got better at controlling them I would give you more until I felt I didn’t need them myself anymore. When I locked away your invincibility I just undid what I had given you and slowed down the transfer... you’d been half invincible for weeks.”

“No...” MK started, slowly realizing what Wukong was implying. “No, no you’re lying again! This is a terrible, horrible prank!” Despite wanting to be quiet before MK found himself yelling. “Say you’re still lying!”

“No,” Wukong shook his head, looking down at the scar on his arm that was now visible as his sleeve had slipped down. “Most of this will probably heal eventually, except maybe one thing, and I’m still immortal! There’s no undoing that no matter what I do. I’m not dying any time soon. But my transformations? Cloning? My cloud...” He trailed off at that, breaking in a shaky breath. “You didn’t even get to use that... Lady Bone Demon took all of it when she took it from you. I still have some powers, some of my transformations and hair stuff and some invincibility... but I’m not the same overpowered Monkey King you met when you freed DBK...”

And as he trailed off, Wukong lowered his hand. Something flickered, something familiar. Too familiar. Reminiscent of Macaque’s shadows but brighter. And after there was something else reminiscent. In reverse.

MK had only seen it for a split second, when all of Macaque’s glamor magic had dropped. The milky white right eye and the scar over it that was left behind from his battle with Wukong 500 years ago.

And now Wukong looked at him with a similarly white left eye, a similar scar that wasn’t just a nicked eyebrow running down his face.

It makes sense in retrospect, much more. MK supposed that when you lose an eye you lose depth perception and it takes a while to get used to judging where things are.

“... what happened before you came in to save me?” MK asked quietly, watching as more of the glamor fell with a curse from Wukong. There was another nick on his cheek that was still healing, a piece of one of his ears had been ripped off too. No doubt there were more injuries under his clothes that Wukong hadn’t let anyone see.

“She has Macaque under her control,” Wukong said plainly, groaning as he held his head. “Damn, that... letting that down...” He groaned again and before MK could realize what was happening Wukong’s eyes rolled back into his head and he slipped from his chair to the floor.

“WUKONG!” MK shot up, rushing over to his side and yelling over his shoulder in the hopes someone would hear. “Pigsy! D-DADSY! Help, SOMETHING’S WRONG!”

When Pigsy rushed in with the others in tow Wukong hadn't regained consciousness.

[sepublic]

Season 2 Intro!!!

           Dear Titan… It’s beautiful… The animation, the COLORS, the magic, it really is a step-up from Season 1’s intro! I love it so much…!

           We start with a single eye! There’s fire burning within it… Perhaps related to the portal and Belos’ influence? Will his Day of Unity involve fire, like the age-old trope of burning witches at the stake? A cleansing, purifying fire, allegedly? Or is it another eye, still related to Belos… I’ve seen that ONE speculation of the Portal Eye being just one of two for the Titan; Perhaps this is the Titan’s other eye! Perhaps we’ll get a scene where Belos tries to resurrect the Titan, and from the flames sprouts this giant yellow eye from its eye socket! That would be METAL…! Maybe it’s related to that cyclops Owl Deity; Perhaps IT has the other eye that Belos is looking for and needs! Or maybe Belos will release the eye from the Portal with his device?

           LUZ WITH HER CLOAK!!! Please telling me we’re getting more Luz with her cloak, the one Eda made JUST for her, that she makes full use of to add to her ever-growing arsenal! Maybe not every episode, but for important events… Cloaks can be hard to animate. But having her with it 24/7 would be AMAZING!

           Eda! EDA! She’s wielding Owlbert, she can still cast magic with him, she doesn’t have to worry about that at least! And of course King, hijacking her spotlight, the little gremlin!

           Willow, Gus, and Amity! And in their casual attire, I much prefer those clothes over the Hexside uniforms, not that those outfits are BAD, but the casual clothes are just so much THEM, y’know? Willow being all-powerful with her terrifying green eyes, Gus sprouting illusions from a book! Will we see him use a book, delve into magic from paper, kind of like what we saw Emira and Edric use to enter the library, maybe Bard magic? Multi-track learning is a thing and even if it wasn’t, we know Gus gets expelled from Hexside thanks to Odalia and Alador, and later tries to impress kids at Glandus… Hmm…

           Also! He does look a tiny bit older, which fits with how his VA is growing up! Dana did give us two truths and a lie; Gus’ growth spurt, Hooty leaving the Owl House, and Camila beating someone up! Alas, based on the intro and the synopsis of Echoes of the Past, it seems that Camila beating someone up is the lie… Disappointed but not surprised, I kinda saw it coming with the portal dilemma and all!

           Amity… AMITY, that precious gay child, literally twirling into frame and looking all stoic, but we know you’re an utter nerd! As she summons Abomination goop… Looking so CONIFDENT and strong, you go girl! You’ll need it for your confrontation with your parents, here’s hoping this alludes to you becoming even more of your own person after this!

           Then, we get it- The much-speculated and looked forward to, the Season 2 intro teaser! IT… Is exactly what we expected, but more! We have Lilith as her Season 1 self, acting all menacingly and on behalf of the Emperor’s Coven… Owl Mask wielding a staff similar to Belos’, but with a smaller wing! Are they an apprentice, a child of Belos perhaps? Small wing, bigger wing; Reminds me of the Emperor’s Coven insignia… And of course, Kikimora, hiding her face, appearing all tiny and dainty and weak…

           But then the panels flip around and we get a new look! Lilith in her Season 2 attire, ashamed and depressed, not wanting to associate with the Emperor’s Coven, but still having those connections and ties that pull back and haunt her, as she’s next to the Owl House… Owl Mask in-between as a liason! We get a closer look and they do look young, indeed- Them being a kid or young adult makes sense with their shorter stature in Season 1! Will they be a depressed, overworked millennial teen? And Kikimora is ANGRY… Her eye is red, is it always like that when hidden, or does it become like that when she loses it???

           I wouldn’t be surprised if Kiki had a bit of a Hulk mode where she just LOSES it and goes red with anger, perhaps even transforming! THAT would be interesting… Her pretending to be all tiny and dainty, not a threat, but it’s just a façade; Trying to suppress that ‘savage’ part of her, that Belos taught, before she inevitably lets loose every now and then! Aren’t you tired of being nice? Don’t you want to go ape-shit? If King and Kiki have parallels, then… What does this say of King?

           We also get a slightly better look at the icons for the Coven Heads… More or less the same, but Bard looks different? Like they have a cloak obscuring them… A new leader for the Bard Coven, or just an updated design for Season 2? I’m getting Diamond murals from the Moon Base flashbacks, circa Steven Universe…

           BBBEEEELLLOSSSS!!!! As we predicted, Belos replaces King in this transition, which of course lends to the potential parallels, with HIM as the new ruler! His armored gauntlet, sexy, tears into frame, burning with red fire- Red magic for Belos just FITS and is so aesthetical, it matches his bloody, organic vibes, but also this idea of demonic power, purifying rage, etc. It also reminds me of Isaac from Castlevania, and how he forges night creatures; Which just further endears me to Belos, and gives me hope for the idea of Belos creating monsters from scratch! I’d love that…

           We get a dynamic shot of Belos posing dramatically in front of his castle, red lightning- Will there be a storm? Can he summon storms and lightning, will a storm arise on the Day of Unity? In the background, we see his castle… And through the clouds, it appears to be a red source of light breaking through… A blood-red moon? Sun? Will Belos make the sky and sun go red on the Day of Unity as a portal, as he takes over?

           Then the rest is the same as the Season 1 intro, for a bit- The same flying sequence, but with a darkened light like evening, reminiscent of Agony of a Witch… That gives me shudders. I think the Day of Unity will perhaps begin with the skies going dark, perhaps? Ironic given its name, more like a NIGHT really… Night, Knight, who knows? We get the trio with Eda’s updated design, Luz’s light spell…

           But we get the title sequence and it’s different! We get bone patterns resembling the Titan’s skeleton… But instead of just light flashing across, we get spells of fire, ice, plant, and light bursting around, before converging in the middle and disappearing! A wonderful nod to Luz’s current arsenal and skillset… Which makes me wonder- Will she learn more spells? Maybe a teleportation glyph, hence why those spells flash out of existence? It’d suck if she didn’t… And if Luz DOES learn new spells, will they be included at the end, or is it just going to be the main four from Season 1?

           All in all, I am HYPED and looking forward to Season 2- And being given this delicious treat of an intro before every episode is just the cherry on top!

[robinskey]

In My Mind (Steve x Hopper! Reader)

Request: Steve Harrington x hopper!reader where the reader has mind reading powers?

A/N: I was trying to find a way to connect the reader to the MKUltra experiments (like maybe her mom was an unknowingly pregnant test subject, like Terry Ives), but the timelines didn’t add up. So the reader is the daughter of Hopper and his ex-wife and older sister of the late Sara Hopper. I like the way it turned out, so hopefully you do, too! Thanks for requesting, anon. :)

Any text in italics are the thoughts of others.

Warnings: Some language (it’s all Stevie Babey’s fault, though, so you can’t be too mad about it)

“Are you excited for your first day of high school?”

The words are spoken by your father, who’s driving with the wheel in one hand a cigarette in the other. A thin haze of smoke clouds both the air and your esophagus. Usually, you’d chide him for his unhealthy vice. This time, however, you let it slide; he needed the nicotine to calm his nerves.

When your dad initially offered to drop you off on the first day of the new semester, you resisted. After all, you had your own car, and, considering you’d been able to navigate the big city for most of your life without incident, you were pretty sure you could find your way to Hawkins High. (Besides, as you’d told your father, “the new kid already starts at the bottom of the food chain, even without her daddy dropping her off.”) 

If you were any other moody teenager, you probably would have insisted on driving yourself. In fact, that’s what you were about to do when you felt an overwhelming wave of guilt and disappointment wash over you. The emotions weren’t your own; they belonged to your father. Yet, the feeling was strong enough for you to sense without even trying. Dad plastered a fake smile on his face, but his disheartened thoughts bounced around your head. 

God, you idiot, she’s a senior in high school. Of course she doesn’t want her old man around when she’s trying to make new friends. You’ve already missed your opportunity to be there for all her “firsts”.

“Actually, you know what? It might be nice to have a chauffeur,” you said. 

You’ll never forget how wide he beamed.

Thus, when he refers to the start of your eighth semester of high school as your “first day,” you happily play along.

“I’m excited for a fresh start,” you say, watching as the car passes by a frost-covered field. Despite the bitter cold, the sun shines down on the earth. Bright white patches of snow glitter in the light.

“Me, too, kid.”

Your father’s uncharacteristically quiet tone draws your attention to him. He stares back at you with glimmering irises. You don’t need to tap into this mind to know exactly what he’s thinking-or, more precisely, what he’s thinking about.

***

Once upon a time, you had been relatively close with your father. Your mother worked long hours at the office, trying to climb the corporate ladder, so you saw him a lot more often than you did her. He helped you and Sara with your homework and coached your softball team; the two of you were certified daddy’s girls.

Then, tragedy struck: Your sweet little sister was diagnosed with cancer. Despite their best efforts, the doctors couldn’t save her. Sara’s death wounded your mother deeply, but it destroyed your father. The deep depression into which he fell led to the dissolution of their marriage. 

Because your father was barely in a state of mind to take care of himself, let alone another human being, your mother received full custody in the divorce. You stayed in New York with your mother, and your father moved back to his hometown of Hawkins, Indiana. His decision to leave felt like abandonment when you needed him most.

The two of you spent five years without seeing each other in person. You rarely even spoke over the phone, unless he drunkenly dialed you or you called him-which, after he repeatedly answered with slurred speech, you eventually stopped doing. He missed holidays and birthdays, only occasionally sending a card in the mail, which often arrived several months late, and never invited you to visit.

All that changed in the fall of 1984, when your father invited you “home” for Thanksgiving break. He even offered to pay for your flight to Indiana. Hoping to mend your relationship, you agreed, headed to the airport after school, and arrived in Indiana that same day. Your father was waiting for you at the gate with a cheesy grin and a container of your favorite candy. After a tight embrace and a waterfall of shared tears, you spent the next few days catching up on five years of lost time. He introduced you to El, showed you around Hawkins, and took you to all his favorite places to get a bite to eat. You quickly understood why your dad had wanted to return to this little town; at the end of the trip, you didn’t want to leave it. 

“I want to move here,” you told your father on your last night in Hawkins.

“You can always stay with me.”

He didn’t realize you were seriously you took that offer until you called him a few weeks later.

“You actually want to come live with me?” he asked, shock evident in his tone.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Don’t you want to wait until graduation?”

It sounded like your father didn’t want you to move. But, as Dad later told you, he wanted you to come to Hawkins more than anything. He just wanted to make sure you were thinking things through-that this was actually what you wanted, not what you thought you should do. 

“I’ll stay here until the end of the semester,” you said, “but I don’t want to miss out on another six months of time I could spend with you. I can finish my senior year in Indiana.”

“If that’s what you want.”

It was what you wanted. 

***

At least, it’s what you thought you wanted. The way your stomach twists into a pretzel shape as you pull up to the school makes you doubt your conviction. You ramble about your fears of being accepted as you gather your belongings.

That’s when a firm hand lands on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“You’re going to kill it today, kiddo.”

“Thanks, Dad.” You press a quick kiss to his cheek, then hop out of the car. 

“And remember,” he says with a pointed finger, “if anyone treats you poorly, take note of their name. They may need to receive a visit from the Hawkins Chief of Police sometime down the road.”

You roll your eyes, but a small smirk tugs at your lips. 

“Bye, Sheriff!” you call over your shoulder.

As you walk into the school, you swear you can feel a hundred sets of eyes boring into your soul. Anyone else would have been be able to dismiss it as their own paranoia. However, you could hear the thoughts of your peers even louder than their whispers.

Who is that?

Was that the Sheriff’s car?

Where did she come from?

The rapid-fire unspoken questions continue for the rest of the day. When the bell rings for lunch, you start to panic. If there’s one thing more terrifying than starting in a new school where you know no one, it’s walking into a high school cafeteria when you have no one to sit with. 

Thankfully, a curly-haired girl from your homeroom spots you in the hallway. She invites you to her table with a friendly grin that makes you feel instantly at ease. You chat as you make your way through the lunch line. 

After you get your trays, Nancy leads you to a corner of the cafeteria where two guys are already sitting across from each other, making casual conversation. The one facing you has pale skin and terrible posture. He greets Nancy warmly and smiles at you politely. After his initial reaction of who the hell is this, his thoughts turn more positive: Another girl for Nancy to befriend. That could be good for her.

“Y/N, this is my boyfriend, Jonathan,” Nancy says, taking a seat next to him.

That’s when the second boy finally turns around.

Big, brown eyes lock onto yours. They’re framed by thick, dark lashes. Other than a few freckles, his rosy complexion is blemish-free. And that hair-his mane is composed of fluffy brunette curls that simply defy gravity. 

You’re really glad he can’t read your mind because you can’t stop thinking about how you’ve never seen a human so...pretty. 

Luckily for you, he’s thinking the same thing. 

Damn, she’s gorgeous. Why have I never seen her before? Oh, shit-I’m staring. Come on, Steve get it together. It’s just a girl, and you’re-you’re King Steve Harrington. 

“King Steve Harrington”? Does this guy really call himself that? You chew on the inside of your cheek to keep from bursting out laughing. Steve licks his cotton-candy pink lips nervously.

God, how is she that beautiful?

“I’m Steve,” he says. “Steve Harrington.” 

“I know,” you blurt out. 

Steve tilts his head at a slight angle, confused as an untrained dog being told to sit.

“I, uh-I know your name’s Steve,” you say, which is true. “Nancy told me.”

Did I?

Before Nancy can ask her question out loud, you gesture to the empty spot next to Steve.

“Can I sit?” 

Steve nods, scooting over a bit to make room. Your arm brushes his as you slide onto the bench. Your skin burns, and you’re not sure if it’s due to your own flustered attitude or the heat radiating from Steve. There’s half a beat of silence; even the internal dialogue dies down for a moment. Then, Nancy and Jonathan launch into a discussion about the fourth-period pop quiz. You quickly tune out of their conversation and into the thoughts of the boy next to you.

How long do you have to know a girl before you ask her out?

While no bullies will be receiving a visit from your father, you have a sinking feeling that the sheriff will be having words with a particular student at Hawkins High in the near future.

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[redrobin-detective]

Y’all got me jazzed up so let me talk about the immortal Wizard Billy AU that I’ve been playing with in secret (tried to write a fic sort of maybe abandoned it?)

Okay so, same shtick, Billy is a homeless kind-hearted 11 year old chosen by the Wizard to be his champion but also, when the previous Shazam died, passed on the mantle of the Wizard as well. Except it’s 1939. Billy does his Captain Marvel thing for awhile alongside Mary Marvel and Captain Marvel Jr., fighting the good fight and loving life not really aware of his other responsibilities. It’s a few years in when Freddy and Mary are growing up and Billy is still stuck at 11 that they realize something is up. 

It’s a devastating realization at the time as he sees that he’s not going to be able to grow up alongside his family. It’s at this time Captain Marvel disappears from the world and he dedicates himself to being the Wizard full-time. I’d like to think before he gives up Cap he there for the first wave of heroes and has a hand in forming the JSA. He was on his way to bonding with the heroes of old when he learned the truth and left without a trace. Mary and Freddy continue on as his first official Marvels for many years until they give it up to pursue real life goals. They remain very close as they grow, Freddy died young(ish) but Mary only recently passed of old age which really was a blow to Billy as he now has nothing left of his old life.

So as the Wizard, Billy is the center of all magic. The magic lives in and is nourished by his spirit and while he can’t do things like rewrite reality he’s still one of the most terrifyingly powerful beings out there. Not that he ever uses it as such bc hes a bean. The previous Shazam was a hermit who did kind of less than the bare minimum of his job and magic was kind of a free for all. Billy decides to step up and be better. He serves not only as the Guardian of Magic but also an ambassador/king/spiritual figure. He is very engaged with the magical world, settling disputes, serving as a friend/mentor to all who needs it. There’s trial and error but after 80 years of working out the bumps, he’s got a decent handle on his job. 

The majority of magic society LOVES the hell out of their boy king, think about how people go nuts for the British royal family. You never know what you’re gonna get with Wizards but Billy is kind and understanding and actually steps outside of the Rock to see the real world. He’s got quite a following, probably has guards watching out for him at all times. Because there’s also a strong minority who hates having an active Wizard. They don’t like what he’s doing and they’re threatened/jealous of his power. Bill controls all magic, he has awesome powers but also has his hands on the off switch and that terrifies lots of people.

Billy is still fundamentally human. So I want to make clear that Billy is 11, he has been alive for almost a century but he’s still 11. He is mature, wise, has lots of outdated slang but he is still is a child at heart, he’s just been 11 for a long time. He stills needs to eat, he gets tired early, has a tiny child bladder and most importantly, he has human weakness and can die if you get past all his magic. If Billy dies before he properly passes on the Wizard mantle then the magic will be loose for anyone to grab, chaotic, out of control and a major disaster. The fact that Billy is small, vulnerable and puts himself out there so readily makes a lot of people nervous. He has a secret weapon, hardly ever used though and that is he never officially gave up Captain Marvel, he just stopped transforming. Should he find himself in over his head all he need do is call upon his predecessor and Cap will live once more. Almost no one knows he was Cap nor that he kept the powers.

Okay so we’re in the modern era, the second great era of heroes is here. As more magical beings enter the League, they speak lovingly of the boy king, the Wizard who watches over all magic. Soon the JLA and Billy have an arrangement that all major magical disputes go through him first to try to diffuse without violence which doesn’t always work out but they still try. The League is pretty damn weirded out by Billy and they fall in one of two modes: treat him like an adult or treat him like a child where he is neither. He has the wisdom of an adult but the body and soul of a child. Only the kids get him and he gets on very well with them. Often Heroes will send their sidekicks to Billy because they just don’t know how to properly interact with him. The magical heroes also get it, it’ll never not be weird to see the stoic and unimpressed Jason Blood kneeling and reverently swearing himself before a kid in a Ramones tee and dirty sneakers.

Billy has had many Marvels over the years, all of them kids, most but not all came from tragic circumstances. The current Marvels are three foster kids: Darla, Eugene and Pedro (see what I did there). While he is a kid himself his Marvels are also HIS kids. He never feels more like an adult than when dealing with his champions. He loves the HELL out of those children and basically becomes a second parent to them. Kids are so adaptable that none of them think its weird that a 16 year old Marvel is having their hair petted and worries soothed by an 11 year old in a cape. Billy’s just like that, they love him so much and still stay in contact even when they decide to return their powers. I’ve gone back and forth on Billy as Marvel, on the one hand him keeping it hidden and it only coming out in dire circumstances and everyone’s like WHAT is fun. But also Billy losing the last of his old life (Mary) depresses him so much, the resurgence of heroes makes him want to build new bonds that will last and he joins as just another Marvel not telling anyone who he really is. Living JSAs are like ‘woah you went out for milk 70 years ago and never came back’. Idk I think its cool.

Bleh this is getting long, one last section on Billy himself. Billy is an odd one to pin down. He’s so painfully kind and warm and open and you just immediately feel safe and comfortable when you’re with him which is disarming in its own way. He’s very quietly wise, only giving advice when asked and carries himself with a sense of regal duty. But on the other hand he’s also very childish and silly and likes to goof off a lot and pull pranks and go see cool things. He rough houses with his Marvels/sidekicks, he swears like a sailor, he l o v e s memes and though he isn’t always up to date he can talk the talk with other kids. He’s a conundrum, both adult and child and neither all at once. He’s vaguely unsettling to adults because he doesn’t fit into any one box, to kids he’s just like that. Billy Batson is a hero when he can be, a Wizard he didn’t want to be but still does his best and friend to all who are willing to take his hand. 

[myncisworld-2point0]

[NOTE: This article is from 2014.]

According to some people, Mark Harmon is best known to his fans as Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs on CBS’s hit drama series NCIS. Those people are wrong, of course, because he’s always going to be Freddy Shoop, a summer school teacher in over his head in 1987’s appropriately-titled Summer School. Harmon turns the ripe, young age of 63 today, and it’s clearer than ever that this man is in possession of a map that leads to the Fountain of Youth, because Harmon ages with grace, am I right, ladies? In fact, while it’s no wonder why this actor was named People’s Sexiest Man Alive in 1986, it is rather shocking that he never received that accolade again, specifically in 1987, when the most important work of his career was released.

The coke-fueled era of the 1980s in Hollywood was filled with more high school movies about slackers and smartasses than anyone actually needed, especially when it came to featuring students who looked like they were older than the teachers. Summer School was always perhaps the most underrated of the decade’s tributes to slackademics (trademark pending) because what it lacked in the typical star power of, say, a John Hughes film, it more than made up for in creating arguably the most creative collection of “teenage” dipshits than any film of the genre. At the same time, it showed that Harmon, who was probably best known at the time for his role as the HIV-positive Dr. Robert Caldwell on St. Elsewhere, had a strong sense of comedy, while also confirming (along with her debut on Cheers that same year) that Kirstie Alley was much, much more than just a really attractive Vulcan.

Summer School isn’t just some cult classic that people love to mention whenever someone randomly asks, “Hey, whatever happened to Dean Cameron?” It was actually well-received at the box office, earning $36 million in theaters on what I assume was a budget of a few rolls of nickels and someone’s baseball card collection. Critics, however, were a little more mixed on this mindless comedy, as Roger Ebert gave it one-half star out of four, which sounds a lot better than one star out of eight, so you know what? I’ll take it.

Maybe in the movie business we could coin the term vaporfilm, for movies that zip right through our brains without hitting any memory molecules.

“Summer School” is a movie like that, a comedy so listless, leisurely and unspirited that it was an act of the will for me to care about it, even while I was watching it. This movie has no particular reason for being, other than to supply employment for people whose job possibilities will not be enhanced by it. (Via RogerEbert.com)

Here’s a tip for all of you aspiring film critics out there, courtesy of King Ebert – if you’re watching a movie with a title as lazy as Summer School, and the opening of the film features a school’s teachers trying to haul ass after the bell on the last day of the semester so they don’t get suckered into teaching the titular course, get up and walk out. Leave the movie for those of us who love to watch stupid movies and go to the next theater to watch and analyze La Bamba. Perhaps that’s why the fan reviews of Summer School on Netflix seem to be so glowing, as I only found three that were two stars or less. In fact, here’s the worst of them all:

Nothing but trash. Nothing worth seeing. Degenerate teens in bad need of harsh discipline. It’s depressing to think that so many young people actually enjoy this trash. This movie is immediately available from NF while so many more interesting ones languish in the ‘saved’ section, or in ‘short wait’, ‘long wait’, or ‘very long wait’ status. Just one more nail in the coffin of American culture, or lack thereof.

Thank God Armond White weighed in. The majority of people, myself included, fondly remember Summer School for what it is – a fun, stupid movie that was meant to make us laugh, while perhaps also rubbing our noses in the awesomeness of 80s California if we didn’t live there. But I’ll take this analysis one step further by laying out these 10 very important lessons that I took away from Summer School after watching it this morning, in paying tribute to Harmon, a man who was Kevin Costner before Kevin Costner was Kevin Costner.

Always put sunglasses on your dog.

Fact: 100% of movie posters that have dogs wearing sunglasses on them are movies that I’m willing to at least watch. The movie could be called This Dog Dies from Space AIDS, and I’d still be curious to see why that dog is wearing sunglasses.

Always have an escape plan.

When everybody else is hauling ass from the faculty parking lot at the last second, there’s no reason that you shouldn’t already be packed for your trip to Hawaii. I don’t like to point fingers, but Mr. Shoop’s girlfriend is clearly at fault here. All she had to do was pack the car for him, and he could have jumped in and taken off for the airport. Instead, Kim kicked her man while he was down and not only snatched her ticket to Hawaii from the pocket of his rad flowered shirt, but she also told him to drive her to the airport. I don’t mean to offend anyone who is overprotective of fictional characters, but I hope that Kim was eventually fed to the volcano gods.

Also, let’s consider this a lesson within a lesson – would you walk away from your teaching job right now if someone handed you a winning lottery ticket for $50,000? I say no. Just pass all of the morons while you spend the class time reading up on investment opportunities.

Never be afraid to encourage the creativity of your students.

https://youtu.be/-5Pku48YPFo

The true sign of a teacher’s efforts in a classroom is how far the students are willing to go to show others their appreciation of his work. In Shoop’s case, once he resigned because his students were greedy little pricks, those same students objected to a new teacher taking over the class by staging a gruesome and horrifying murder scene, complete with two of the students wielding chainsaws, declaring themselves psychopaths and thus taking credit for the violence. Of course, I can’t stress this enough, no high school students should ever think about trying to recreate this scene today.

On a side note, and I hate to nitpick true artistic masterpieces, if you’re going to have a severed hand pull a dude’s tongue out of his mouth and slap him with it, it’s really important that he not blink. Damn it, people, we need accuracy.

Being a male teacher in California in 1987 was probably terrifying.

https://youtu.be/farC0cWkpvc

Between Summer School and Revenge of the Nerds II: Nerds in Paradise, 1987 was a huge year for Courtney Thorne-Smith. Hell, both movies came out in the same week in July, when she was just 19 years old and poised to become the next big things in terms of girls that all teen boys wanted to marry. Unfortunately, her movie career never really panned out, as the last live action role she had on the big screen was as Natalie in the Carrot Top hot fart Chairman of the Board. Her TV career was obviously a lot better, but that’s neither here nor there. Having her play a lovelorn surf goddess crushing on Shoop probably lured a lot of guys to the teaching profession, only to have them learn the hard way that prison sucks.

Additionally, there was the foreign exchange student Anna-Maria Mazarelli, who would grow up to win our hearts as Alotta Fagina. Was it standard procedure for foreign exchange students to be shoved into remedial English classes upon arrival? Sure.

It’s important to support fine arts programs.

https://youtu.be/u0kF24ceZMI

When I write about how hilarious it was how Hollywood tried to make us buy that some actors were teenagers when they were clearly at least a decade older, Ken Olandt is really Exhibit A. The guy who played Larry, the sleeping student by day and male stripper by night, was actually 29 when he was portraying a 17-year old, which is pretty hard to pass when very few teenage boys A) look like that and B) are hired to shake their dongs in strip clubs. Still, glaring age gaps and statutory and employment laws aside, it was nice to see that Shoop was so cool about Larry’s awesome after-school job. That is until he was busted by his mom and presumably spent the next decade in therapy.

It’s not lying if the company ripped you off in the first place.

The first time that I ever saw Summer School, I was convinced that the part about writing letters to companies to get free stuff would work every time. I spent a lot of time trying to write letters to the companies that made my favorite toys, so I could convince them that the action figures and especially the vehicles that I couldn’t afford had been broken. But then I realized that I might be called on my BS, and guys in suits might show up to my home demanding to see the broken toys, and then I’d be screwed and sent off to prison for lying. Ultimately, owning Krang’s fortress wasn’t worth a life spent in prison making license plates, which is how TV and movies taught me that license plates were made.

Jail in California looks very scary.

I still don’t know what the guy with the mustache is doing with his hand, but it’s really scary and I don’t want to ever have someone do that to me, so I’ve chosen to lead a life on the straight and narrow. Thank you, Summer School, for teaching us that jail is filled with scary perverts who want to do bad things to shirtless men on roller skates.

No matter the risk, steal your boss’s girlfriend.

https://youtu.be/B7ZTNm5o780

Vice Principal Gills was a pretty big bite in the ass, so we had to cheer for Shoop in pursuit of Robin Bishop, because Shoop was the coolest and his girlfriend had only recently taken off for Hawaii without him. Sure, Robin was kind of stuck up because she questioned the legitimacy of taking students to something as awesome as a petting zoo, which produced adorable moments like this:

And she also wore a denim shirt tucked into a different shade of denim skirt, because it was the 80s, but she had a good heart and she just wanted what was best for all students, even if it meant agreeing to a date with Shoop to get there. Also, Gills looked like a total goober-douche, and there’s no reason he should have been with Robin.

Education can be a compromise.

https://youtu.be/LzdoMQL_jR8

Is Alan Eakien one of the most underrated teen nerds of cinema? I say yes. That kid may have been dumber than rocks compared to his genius brothers, but he negotiated circles around Shoop. In exchange for a slightly-above-half-assed effort from less than half of the original class roster*, Shoop’s couch was set on fire, his goldfish murdered and car wrecked, bookending that whole going to jail for the two D-bags thing. Things could have been considerably worse, too, because Robin could have tried to get him banned from teaching for the rest of his life for allowing a female student to live with him.

But ultimately Shoop sacrificed so much for the sake of helping a few of his students learn some lessons about life, since they didn’t all pass their exams. Is he a good teacher for that or was he just an idiot being taken advantage of by other idiots? Especially idiots who looked like this:

Being an idiot isn’t all that bad, so long as you’re not a total idiot.

https://youtu.be/8fvhchY0UmY

Hey, in the end, some of those kids passed their exams, and the most important of them all was Pam, because that meant she could move on and not try to make it so Shoop returned to jail. This guy went from being just a run-of-the-mill bro’s bro gym teacher to making an impact in the lives of some kids who looked like they were grown adults. Sure, he couldn’t even talk a 17-year old out of stripping, and he allowed some of his students to treat the foreign exchange student like a sex model, but Freddy Shoop probably learned more than anyone.

Also, he totally stole the douchebag Vice Principal’s girlfriend, and Wonder Mutt found Bobby again in the end, so this really was a movie with a beautiful and happy ending.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Out of curiosity, what are your favorite companions out of all of the Fallout games, and why?

Fallout

The Original Dogmeat (After looking into it, it feels like this ornery dog had a lot more personality than the available human companions, enough so that he made a comeback in FO2.)

Fallout 2

Goris (A sentient and intelligent albino deathclaw scholar that wears a robe to hide his appearence from trigger happy assholes. What's not to like? Goris is an interesting character and I hope there will be another deathclaw companion in a future game!)

K-9 the Cyberdog (Cyberdogs are cool. Talking Cyberdogs with good moral compasses? Even better! Super pissed the NCR ended up destroying him to gather Intel on the Enclave. That's something I'd expect from the BoS instead, and it's left a bitter taste in my mouth. Rest in peace you poor pup.)

Fallout 3

Butch Deloria (He was an asshole and a bully during his and the Lone Wanderer's childhood, but you can't deny he isn't loyal to a fault. He's still a bit of an asshole with an unobtainable greaser teen dream, but honestly he's not that bad considering he was neglected as a child thanks to his mother's alcoholism. If you scratch his back he'll definitly scratch yours, even if he pretends he's not a goody-two-shoes like you. Plus he can give you a haircut, who wouldn't want a personal barber out in the Wastes?)

Charon (His situation is an uncomfortable moral conundrum since he's basically a brainwashed slave by anything but name. Oxhorn put it best in his video on Charon's situation, and I agree that the only good thing you can do for him is buying his contract and doing good out in the Capital Wasteland with him as your companion, as a form of atonement for any past shady/cruel actions his former employers have had him perform.)

Fawkes (A super mutant who may or may not have been a man named Shelton Delacroix, Fawkes is unfortunate in the sense that he was alienated by his fellow vault-tec security officers for having a conscience, and then alienated by his super mutant kin for being uniquely intelligent and kind. To add to these tragedies, Shelton was apparently married so Fawkes has a wife he can't recall who is either dead or a mindless super mutant herself.)

Dogmeat the Second (A loyal heterochromatic cattle dog who would fight to the death if just to avenge his fallen master. Dogmeat is a scruffy scavenger and definitly man's best friend. You have to wonder if he might be a descendant of the Original Dogmeat with just how strong his personality comes off. Some dogs in the wasteland are definitely smarter than others.)

Fallout: New Vegas

Arcade Ganoon (A gay mess of a doctor with social anxiety and a lot of personal demons related to his origins. Arcade is an intelligent and interesting character in the sense that he has a deep-seated desire to help everyone, but knows the consequences of one's ideals outgrowing the needs of others. He's grateful to the Enclave Remnants's loyalty to him and his mother, after his father passed away, and he definitly considers them his family. That in itself is an issue because the Enclave's sins will follow and haunt him for the rest of his life, even if he was just born into that life and not one of the people commiting atrocities.)

Craig Boone (His story is the typical wasteland hardened ex-soldier. He committed atrocities that left him mentally scarred and suffering from PTSD, lost his wife who was the only good thing in his life, his need to avenge her has left him dangling between cold-blooded killer and decent human being, and on top of that he's a bit of a cynical asshole. Still a pretty cool companion to have around, and honestly it feels nice to have him around doing some good for the Mojave wasteland instead of stewing in his depression and self-hatred. His sniping skills could help a lot of people with the Courier's encouragement.)

Lily Bowen (She's a super mutant elite spy soldier. She's also a sweet old granny with schizophrenia and a murderous imaginary friend. Lily is another tragic character who's story pulls at your heartstrings, and the three choices regarding her meds are another moral conundrum. Again I'd recommend Oxhorn's video on her story, since I wholly agree with his assessment on what choice is actually the best for her.)

Rex the Cyberdog (His background before he joined the Kings is shrouded in mystery, with the Legion's faded mark painted on his armour platting. Rex is a loyal pup with a hate for rats, hats and people who wear hats. His greatest ire is probably reserved for rats with hats. His recruitment story arc is also pretty interesting and it definitely affects his personality and endings. If you have Old World Blues and construct Roxie the Cyberdog he even becomes a father of a litter of "Boston terrifiers"!)

ED-E (Honestly it's my love for robots that make this little damaged travel companion so appealing. His mission is interesting, and the cashe of Enclave Intel he holds can be benefitial, but most of his endings point to ED-E continuing his journey eventually so there's a sadness with letting this little guy go if you get attached.)

Fallout 4

Preston Garvey (All Preston has ever wanted to do was help make the Commonwealth a better place for people to live in. He's a selfless man who joined a militia at age 17 to do some good, and it honestly breaks my heart that the Minutemen collapsed as hard as it did. Preston had to watch as the ideals of the Minutemen were crushed underfoot by a bunch of selfish assholes, along with an entire settlement of innocent people. He did everything in his power to keep the only four survivors safe and alive, and he's clearly traumatized, depressed and suicidally throwing himself at danger because he'd rather die fighting the good fight than caring for his own safety. He puts everyone else above himself and it infuriates me that people are so hellbent in painting him off as a bland character or a pest. Oxhorn puts it best in his profile of Preston.)

X8-88 (The Institute's top of the line Courser, the closest the Commonwealth will ever get to the Terminator, and livable despite his cynical remarks and persistence that he's incapable of emotions or attachment. It saddens me that X6 is only obtainable if you follow the Institute. It also pains me that if you do manage to befriend him and destroy the Institute, you're destroying this loyal synth's only home. You're basically stripping away everything he knows and believes in, inherently doing what the Institute has done to the Sole Survivor: Taking their life away from them. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth...)

Nick Valentine (Moral conundrums are painful. Ethical conundrums are just as bad. Nick didn't deserve anything that happened to him, and it's obvious he struggles with his identity and purpose but chooses to follow in the Original Nick's footsteps to do some good, rather than hide away and mope. He's a good person overall, even if he's a bit of a smartass sometimes. He's the perfect robodad for anyone in need of a fatherly figure in the Commonwealth.)

John Hancock (This man has a lot of emotional baggage and has made a LOT of bad choices, but if there's anyone you can trust to be loyal and helpful out in the wastes, it's definitly Hancock! His crude humour and liberal use of drugs and knives to deal with his problems can be a bit off-putting, but Hancock will defend you no matter what. Heck, he would even defend Danse from the BoS and the guy's a racist dickbag to him from the very moment they meet. That says a lot about his character.)

Codsworth (He waited for the Sole Survivor to return. For 200 fucking years. Please be kind to him, he's probably one of the nicest companions and also one of the most lovable too! He is the friend you'd wish you had if you ever found yourself in the same situation as the Sole Survivor. Cherish Codsworth, he's all you have left, and he'll protect you to the best of his ability.)

Dogmeat the Third (A brilliant genius dog that is very likely a synth. Dogmeat, like Codsworth, is a lovable guy and should definitely be cherished. I'd recommend getting the "Everyone's Best Friend" Mod so that you can have him travel with you and another companion. It's almost like FO2!)

Deacon (He's intelligent. He's sneaky. He's a pathological liar with good intentions. Deacon is mysterious and charming, and definitly a little fucked in the head. I'd like to meet his plastic surgeon if they can make him flawlessly look like a woman and a ghoul, no questions asked. Oxhorn has a pretty interesting video that explores Deacon's character and intentions, if you're interested!)

Paladin Danse (I'll admit I wasn't all that impressed with Danse when I got my first impression of him. He's rude, he's impatient, he's condescending, and worst of all he is an asshole to anyone just a bit different from him. Still, the plot-twist left space for this racist Buzz Lightyear knockoff to go through some personal growth. The years of militaristic indoctrination will probably take a while to be resolved, but Danse IS redeemable if given time. He's not inherently evil, just in dire need of a tolerance lesson.)

[astrogone]

* ﹙✧﹚  :    ❝   @godbanes​​   ❞     /      𝐻𝑂𝑊  𝐶𝐴𝑁  𝐼  ?

waves crash into the rock she sits on,     guided by the crying of her heart.     the sea wants to fill the empty space fate had left in her chest when it took away her purity,    her child,    her happiness.      fate left her with nothing but wrath and depression.       only the salt of the sea could ease the pain,      the darkness could hide it,    but when she is under the cloudy sky,     thetis’ wounds are for the universe to inspect.     it sickens her that she is trapped in a trench of anger that she cannot swim out of.    she was once innocent and happy,    beaming when the sun shone and when her sisters sang.    she was once looking for love,    dreaming to one day lay with the king of olympus and have his child,    to be held in his loving arms.     instead,   she was sold to a hungry king,    a mortal who dirtied her,    who saw her womb as a prize.    the greatest of men,  she had given birth to the greatest of men only to have him taken away from her when he was barely twenty years old.     how could she not live in deep hatred for the fates and for mortals?     how could she not want to slit apollon’s throat when he had reassured her that her child will live a long and happy life?

her body remains still,    hair blown into the harsh wind as the skies darken more and more.      she realises ophiuchos meant well,    but she refuses to be thought of as anything but strong and silent like death.        the nereid feels her empty chest burning when they speak,     revealing the reason why they stood close to her,    why they listened and tried to prove her wrong.     i care about you.      she hangs her head,   ocean eyes wide and watery.       “  how can you care…  ”     they are old,   old as her,    riddled with pain just like her.       she could taste the painful need to disappear,    to be forgotten and out of sight,     and thetis can understand it.       the rock under her feels cold through her white chiton.     she wants to run away and not listen,     she wants them to forget this ever happened and to never see them again.

for once in her life,    thetis allows someone to see her shoulders drop,    her back slouch and hands clasp together as she anxiously tugs at the skin around her nails.       “  i’m scared,  ”       she admits and swallows down the knot forming in her throat,      looking up at ophiuchos with worried blue eyes,     the ghost of the young nymph from millennia ago lingering in the colours.        “  if i give you all,    what will i have left?      i had everything taken from me and it left me like this.  ”    her knees buckle when she stands up,    fists clenched at her side.      thetis is riddled by fear,    though admitting it lives within her makes her look youthful and honest.     the waves calm down,      now gently murmuring and dancing with the seafoam beneath them.

“   if i give you everything,   ophiuchos,    you have to promise to never leave me.   ”      oh how selfish she could be.     she did not spare a moment to question whether ophiuchos could do so.    all thetis could do was cling to the hope that they would be there.       “  even you return up there where i can’t see,    you must never take your eyes off me.      ophiuchos,   if i give you my all,   you must then give me yours.   ”

thetis finds their gaze and holds it,      as if looking for the promise.      for once,   she wants to have someone’s everything too.   thetis,   the mother.    thetis,   the caregiver.   thetis,    the priestess of the sea.     she deserves to be cared for.

“   i will remain here with you.     i won’t hide in the ocean anymore for as long as you’re here.   ”

“How can you care?”

The question dwelled across Ofioúchos’ mind, coming and going and leaving and returning, like the waves rolling over the shores before they would pull back, only to feed the world with the same coldness, same pain... Same coldness, same pain... Repetition pulled them into a sitting position, heavily panting from their worn out rage. Though even in agony, their gaze was still on Thetis’, never on anywhere, or the sea or sky that had been screaming their name since rage stole their terrible, weak body, begging them to do not fall into the ocean that could only wail within Thetis. Yet their breaths soon met hers while their fingers were curled together. They could feel the burns in their lungs from her sorrow, feel the shadows leaking into theirs from her dying dreams. Thetis would stare at Ofioúchos and now, there was only the abyss staring back at her. “How can I care...?” they said uncertainly, as if they were asking to themself too. “How can I care?” As if in the end, they were questioning themself and their ability to love. ( HOW CAN YOU STILL FIND THE LIGHTS IN EVERYTHING AND EVERYWHERE AND EVERYONE WHEN NO ONE TAUGHT YOU TO FIND THEM— HOPE? )

‘I care and I love and I protect because this universe can not continue to live without kindness. When kindness is absent, there is just rage, and rage creates nothing but chaos and death. In everyone and themselves. Everyone wants to be understood, but if no one can give them that tender chance of being told that they are heard, how can anyone be understanding? Acknowledgement holds so much power, making us strong and weak all at once. It is a beautiful and terrifying tool that is rarely used. But how can I care when no one cared about me? When all I would get from others is just suffering? I watch. I learn. I commit. While I may care too heavily, love too loudly, and protect too harshly, I would still try. I try even when I didn’t have anyone by my sides to help me understand what does love mean. Just a bunch of cheesy movies, endless researched information, and various kind of entities who are helplessly in love with their worlds. I learnt that I should care so no one would have to care for themselves alone, terribly, miserably. Just like how I loved myself. I don’t want this universe to die so soon already. I just want it to live softly.’

“I jussst... do,” was the only response that was given to Thetis— could be offered to the Universe; heavy, exhausted, wanting to be okay and tender again. “And I hope what I can give isss good enough.” Sorrow made a horrible home in Ofioúchos as they watched her shoulders drop, her pretense falling before their teary eyes. Even with their bones nearly cracking while their flesh held every particles of agony, they tried to catch it, handle it with softness as to tell her she was understood, that she had good reasons to rob the darkness and make it her skin and soul. Even when they spotted the ever wandering phantom in her eyes and their hands began to tremble, nothing was going to make Ofioúchos turn away from Thetis. Ever. “When you have nothing in you from giving it all to me, you will get a kind ending from me,” they say, slowly standing up along with her, their hands nearly reaching out towards her, presenting a chance for her to be held in their embrace if she, too, fell. Though their gaze darkened when they were told to...

“Promise to never leave me.”

“I...” Promise. The word that would haunt in their dreams, in their wakings. The thought of uttering it tore them apart, dread spilling from opened old wounds. Their heart wept feebly as they remembered. ( YOU PROMISED TO BE A GOOD RULER. YOU PROMISED TO BE A GOOD GODDEX. YOU PROMISED TO BE THE HEALER, THE LOVER, THE LIGHT. YOU PROMISED TO EVERYONE AND THEN YOU KILLED THEM. ) Finding her gaze deep in their own, their breath caught in their throat— a terrible place where they thought cosmic dusts was present. They belonged to the past though. Ofioúchos was nothing but a terror before, yet they could change to the better. Today, right now, would make up another proof that they were more than scary stories and tragic poems. Perhaps, Ofioúchos should had been grateful that they were still alive; they would still have the time and space to make themself anew, and from then on, they would not have the Universe define them for themself. No one would. Not anymore. Not ever again. ( YOU ARE OFIOÚCHOS EXPERIENTIA, THE RULER OF THE OPHIUCHIANS AND GODDEX OF DEVELOPMENT, AND YOU ARE ENOUGH. )

“I promisssse to never leave you.” Ofioúchos never once broke their gaze with hers as they spoke, confidence wavering, yet still present nevertheless. They took both of her hands and held them tightly, hoping their warmth to be able to reach and spread from their fingers, kissing every cold edges and corners in her. “I promisse to let you have my everything.” Whispers from the past form in their mind the longer time passed in their tenderness, their pain crawling across them and sinking deep into their flesh. They shakily sigh, trying to focus on Thetis and her only. “I promisse...” Determination flickered wildly across their serpentine eyes, and if Thetis would look at them carefully, maybe, she would see new stars appearing in them. Finding that with the stars, Ofioúchos appeared kinder, softer. As they were a rare sight found in the whole wide Universe, the sky and sea could never shine as bright as them, their love. “You will get that kind ending, Thetis.” Inhaling despair, exhaling hope.

“I promise, I promise, I promisssse....”

[vannahfanfics]

Not the Same

Category: General Fluff, Hurt and Comfort

Fandom: One Piece

Characters: Monkey D. Luffy and Boa Hancock

Requested by: killercroc (FanFiction)

The ocean breeze whipped away the sigh as Luffy heaved it, carrying it away into the vast landscape of rolling waves that stretched ever on before him. He was sitting on the figurehead of Boa Hancock’s luxurious ship, his favorite spot to be, but it just wasn’t the same as his perch on the Thousand Sunny; it was the best that he could get, though, considering his ship was still moored at the Shabody Archipelago. He wondered what had become of his beloved ship, the lovingly crafted re-imagining of his faithful Going Merry, which had been put to rest after their many arduous adventures. He wondered too what had become of the rest of his nakama, after being forcefully ejected from the island by the strange android Bartholomew Kuma. More than anything, though, he worried about the welfare of his brother, whom he had just recently learned was being held prisoner by the World Government and slated for execution. As he thought about the terrifying prospect, his fists curled around the stained wood of Hancock’s ship, dangerously close to sending cracks streaming through its sanded surface. I won’t let that happen! I’m gonna save Ace, no matter what!

He told himself that, but his bravado vanished in an instant and he deflated slightly; without his faithful friends behind him, even he had to admit sneaking into a maximum-security prison and busting out his brother was a daunting task. At the very least, he had the beautiful warlord’s help. He just wished at the moment to have something to relieve the boredom of sailing towards Impel Down, because it was giving him way too much time to get in his head. He whirled on his behind to look at Hancock, thinking maybe she could entertain him a bit; she was standing on the upper level talking to the warrior woman who was at the wheel, in active conversation. Luffy stretched his arm out to grasp the railing beside her and vault himself over, landing lightly to crouch on the railing like a lanky monkey. Hancock jumped at his sudden appearance and blushed profusely while stammering, “L-Luffy, what is it?”

“I wanna go fishing.” That was his favorite pastime on the Merry and Sunny, aside from sitting at the figurehead fantasizing about their next adventure and destination; he was always reeling in some massive specimen or another, and Sanji always could find a way to incorporate it into a tasty dish. His mood soured slightly as he realized that Sanji wasn’t around to do it this time, and Hancock’s cook, no matter who they were, could compare to his chef. I’ll see him again soon, just as soon as I save Ace. He knew his crew were probably fine, wherever they were; they were probably back on their way to the Archipelago right now. He would just be a little late to the party, that’s all. As Luffy voiced his proclamation, Hancock whipped around with a firm screech.

“A fishing pole! Someone find Luffy a fishing pole!” The women actually didn’t have a fishing pole on board, which Luffy found asinine (What kind of pirate ship didn’t have a fishing pole? What did they actually do for fun?), but at Hancock’s insistence they fashioned from a spear and some various spare string and thin metal that they had lying around. Once he had his fishing pole in hand, Luffy was actually quite pleased, and he whistled a tune jovially under his breath as he walked over to the side of the ship- that is, until Hancock asked what he was singing and he realized it was Brooke’s favorite tune “Bink’s Sake,” and he got depressed that the funny skeleton man wasn’t around to serenade him. With a slight frown, he plopped down on the edge of the ship and grumpily flung his line into the water.

“Being sad sucks,” he muttered under his breath. With lidded eyes, he watched the ripples that the quivering line cast through the swirling water. Usopp and Chopper loved to fish, too; they would often join Luffy and would have competitions on who could bring in the largest haul. Luffy usually won, because he just had the best luck at yanking Sea Kings out of the sea. His shoulders slouched slightly as his depressive mood heightened. Apparently, the powerful queen of the island of women had noticed Luffy was not in his normal, happy-go-lucky mood, and sidled over with an expression of concern and a pink haze on her cheeks.

“Luffy? Is something the matter?”

“I miss my nakama,” he mumbled. Though Hancock couldn’t really do anything about it- as far as he knew, her talents did not lie in magically plucking people out of thin air- he saw no point in lying. He was always honest about his feelings, because feelings were important. They meant you cared about something. His head flopped down as he heaved another heavy sigh. “It’s just no fun if they’re not around.”

“Kyaah?! You mean you’re not having fun, Luffy?” When he glanced at her out of the corners of his eyes, she had turned red with tears flooding her dark eyes and her bottom lip quivering pathetically. Her cheeks were puffed out, like she was holding her breath. Luffy shrugged at her and straightened back up, wiggling the line of his fishing pole a little in an attempt to entice something from the deep.

“Of course, I’m having fun with you, Hancock, but it just isn’t the same, you know?” Luffy really wasn’t sure how to explain it. He liked Hancock; she was nice, having offered to help him in his effort to sneak into Impel Down and save Ace, and he enjoyed her presence, but with his friends, it was… different. He hated having to walk across the deck and not seeing Zoro asleep, slumped up against the mast or the wooden walls. He hated not smelling the scent of Nami’s tangerines carried on the breeze as it shook their dark leaves, or the mouthwatering aromas of Sanji’s newest creation wafting out of the kitchen. He hated not doing morning stretches with Franky, laughing when Nami came out to scold them for being too loud. He hated not having Robin there to answer his many, many questions about all the things she knew. He hated not having Usopp or Chopper around to assist him in his jokes or pranks. He hated not hearing Brooke’s melodic voice and violin dancing on the wind practicing some new catchy tune or another.

He hated being alone, and he hated being alone because he had failed to keep them all together in the first place.

“Luffy-“ Hancock was interrupted as the fishing line jerked dramatically, and Luffy had to throw his arm back and wind it around the mast to keep from being yanked clear off the ship; his other arm stretched a bit as the powerful force carried the rod underwater, and then he managed to clear his mind to focus on what he was doing and began pulling violently on the makeshift pole.

“Come’re, you stupid fish! I want lunch!” he shouted angrily as he tugged hard on the fishing pole. Slowly, the water beside the ship darkened as a massive form was dragged to the surface, and the water began to slosh and swirl as its massive tail whipped about under Luffy’s vigorous assault. White foam sprayed up against the side of the ship, speckling the determined Luffy and started Hancock with its misty droplets, and the ship began to rock lightly under the force of the waves slapping against its sides. With a grunt, Luffy grabbed the pole with both hands and gave a strong, swift jerk; with a tremendous splash that sent a wave of water rolling over the deck, soaking everyone out in the open from head-to-toe and nearly carrying Luffy’s precious hat away, a massive, colorful fish leaped out of the water. Luffy’s grin was wider than it had been all day at the sight of the spectacle. Its scales were a magnificent emerald, with speckles of jade and other shades across its midline; its fins were sharp and powerful, and its jaw was pointed with row of pointed teeth sticking out. It wriggled about in the air, sending a rain of water droplets arcing about, before crashing about into the ocean with another magnificent splash. Luffy grunted as he was pulled up against the side of the ship, but he firmly held onto his catch. “Oh, no you don’t! You’re going in my belly!”

“Luffy, just let it go! You’re going to capsize us!” Hancock screamed from where she was clutching to the mast, her dark hair plastered to her face. Luffy threw a wink over his shoulder at her, making her melt into a pile of gushing putty, before planting his feet against the wall of the ship and tugging so hard on the fishing pole that it looked like he was standing upright against the wall.

“Nuh-uh! No stupid fish is gonna get the best of me!” Despite his best efforts, the fish was a formidable foe; the ship actually began to stream through the water, jumping in the wake of the massive predatory fish he had hooked. “One… more… time!” he grunted, and once more, the fish vaulted out of the water into the sky, flapping about in rage. This time, Luffy was prepared, and bit down hard on his thumb, blowing air into his body to inflate the bones within his arm. As his limb swelled to massive size, the wood underneath him buckled a bit.

“What are you doing?!” Hancock screamed at him. Luffy just cackled happily and used his free arm to stretch up to grasped the top sail, sling-shotting himself right up to the still-wriggling fish. “It’s lunchtime!” he hollered in glee before delivering a savage punch to the belly of the fish. It instantly stiffened on impact, quivering under the force of Luffy’s blow, before it went rocketing up into the air. It disappeared for a moment, and Luffy landed on the wood holding the top sail and put his hand to his eyes, scanning the blue sky for a black speck. It appeared after a moment, rapidly growing larger as the fish plummeted to earth like a meteor, and he could hear the warrior women running around in circles on the deck screaming that they were going to be crushed. Luffy jumped up to the crow’s nest and then jumped off again to deliver another punch to the fish’s side before it could land directly on the ship, sending it blasting into the ocean so fast that it skipped like a rock a few times before sinking below the waves. After a few seconds it rose back up, belly-up and bobbing lifelessly in the churning water. Luffy landed on the main deck with a triumphant hoot.

“Yay! Lunch! Let’s go get it, let’s go get it! Usopp, Chopper, didja see-“ He cut himself off as he whipped around and remembered that his normal spectators weren’t there, and he deflated again; he continued doing so, shrinking down to the size of a three-year-old, as were the side effects of him using Gear Third. As he pouted, Hancock came running over to him, picking him up underneath his arms and lifting him up with an expression of both joyous glee and acute fear.

“Oh my goodness, you are so cute! Why are you cute? Luffy, what’s happening? Oh, who cares, you’re so small!” she squealed and waved him about as she ranted, then cried out and hugged him to her chest, squeezing him like a vice grip. Luffy’s protests were muffled by the pillow of her voluptuousness. Ignorant of his pleas for air, she just nuzzled him affectionately while crooning, and just as Luffy thought he was going to pass out from lack of oxygen she pulled back to hold him high up and look at him in wonder again. He gulped in big breaths, his face turning from blue to white to normal color, while Hancock’s eyes sparkled innocently. “Will you be like this forever?!” she asked, and he didn’t know if she was horrified or delighted by the prospect.

“Nah. It’s just temporary. It happens every time I use Gear Third,” he explained while picking his nose, disinterested at the entire ordeal. “Can we get my fish, please? I worked hard for that, y’know.”

“Oh! Yes, of course.” Hancock stood up, as she had been kneeling in front of him the entire time, and he expected her to put him down; instead, she hugged him to his chest like a little girl would a teddy bear, arms around his shrunken waist with his little feet dangling as she walked and instructed the crew to haul up and prepare Luffy’s catch. Carried around like a pet, Luffy felt kind of like Chopper. Thinking of the reindeer made him blue again, and he sagged like a limp stuffed animal in Hancock’s arms. Not even making a legendary catch like that could keep his depression away for long. He pouted like a little baby, muttering under his breath at how stupid being sad was, because he had more things to worry about. Hancock eventually caught on to his grumbling, and set him on a barrel to lean over, hands on her knees as she talked to him at eye-level.

“Now, Luffy, it’s okay to be sad that your friends are gone.” Luffy’s nose scrunched up as she took a baby-talk tone with him.

“Hancock, I may look like a baby but I’m not one, so can you please talk normal?”

“Oh! Sorry! Sorry!” she laughed as she put both her hands on her cheeks and gushed, hearts practically flying through the air around her. “What was I saying? Oh, right. I know it must be hard on you, being apart from them.”

“Yeah…” he murmured as his shoulders slumped. “I wish they were here. I know I’m strong, but somehow I just don’t feel like I’m strong enough without them with me.” That was the root of his blatant refusal of his sadness; he didn’t want to admit that he was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to pull this off alone, that he was too weak to avoid dragging his friends into something so dangerous. That he was too weak to keep anyone safe, Ace or anyone else.

“I know, but, I’m sure that wherever they are, they’re still supporting you. Just because they aren’t right there next to you doesn’t mean that they’re not beside you, at every step. You still have their strength, right here,” she smiled kindly and poked him right in his little chest, where his heart was. Luffy looked down, blinking. It made sense, kind of. Even if they weren’t there, they were in his heart, and he was sure he was in theirs, too. With a giggle, he beamed up at Hancock.

“Thanks! I feel better! Can we eat now?” he asked before lightly hopping off the barrel and strolling toward the kitchen with a contented hum. He heard Hancock sigh and tut behind him before she followed, her long dress swishing as she walked. Luffy held onto the top of his hat as a swift breeze whisked across the deck.

Being on the ship with Hancock wasn’t the same as being on the Sunny with all his friends, but he didn’t have to be sad about it anymore. No matter what, they would see each other again, and Luffy could still rely on their strength in the trial ahead- he knew they would be shouting from the sidelines, cheering their captain on in spirit, and that knowledge was enough to get him raring to go.  

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[scripted-dalliances]

Rest In Peace: Chapter Twelve

Title: Rest In Peace

Chapter: 12

Summary: A part of Faithless Fairy Tale, a more in depth look at how they brought Laura back to life. Appearance of old faces, creation of new ones and if you’re looking for canon, it left a long, long time ago. If you squint you might be able to see some pieces from the book.

“She knew herself, how she had slowly, over years, become a cat, a wolf, a snake, anything but a girl. How she had wrung out her girlhood like death.” -Catherynne M. Valente

+

Laura has learned not to carry expectations when it comes to Gods.

Odin was just some old drifter, Ostara looks like she could beat Martha Stewart in a home decorating contest any day of the week and Mad Sweeney is six foot and five inches tall leprechaun. Clearly, it wasn't text book mythology rules.

Still, Isis surprises her. Laura had vaguely assumed she would look like an older Nephthys. Just as high cheeked and blessed with model perfected features. No doubt blessed with a matching leg length, to work a powerful goddess stride.

Instead Isis is cute.

Isis is nearly as short as Laura herself, curvy with a heart shaped face. Making her plush lips and large eyes look all that more beautiful. She looks young.

Everything about her seems to glow, but less like something other worldly and more like joy. She smiles brightly at sister and son, bubbling with soft laughter as they talk. Nothing about her movements is overly graceful, she is frantically eager and emotional. In this moment, she is not elegant and stately. Nor is she trying to pretend to like so many other gods and goddesses have tried.

Laura can't help but stare, trying vainly to find the line where goddess and woman meet but in Isis she realizes maybe there isn't one. 

In midst her staring, the small goddess finally calms down and cuts the distance between them. The laser focus she once had for her son, now locks on to Laura as if she physically marked a target on the dead girl. Who can do nothing but freeze and accept the woman's space budding onto her own.

“You and I are long over due for a talk.”

Laura pulls back her lips into a dry, tight smile.

“You could say, I've been waiting a life time.”

Isis’s eyes glitter with amusement even when behind them Mad Sweeney groans in mock pain at her line. With a gentle touch, Isis moves her aside to look the leprechaun up and down. Her expression a cross between unimpressed and curiosity.

“Let me guess, Mad Sweeney?”

Laura gets some sick satisfaction seeing him go pale and nervous. He even takes his hands out of his pockets and attempts to look polite.

She wants to tell him that particular endeavor is hopeless.

“Aye.”

Isis nods, “Well, you can go now.”

“What?” Laura surprises herself by asking, not even sure why her voice sounds mad. Fuck, not even the idiot himself questions the goddess. He just stands there looking at the pair of them. “Go where?”

“Away?” Isis answers bluntly. “The conversation we need to have should be a private one, don't you think? At the very least, I assumed you wouldn't want your killer to take part in.” -and before Laura can get a word in to question that, she answers, “And yes, we know that too. Odin’s ravens were not the only things watching that night.”

“She's got a point dead girl…I should go.” He adds.

Laura glares at his stupid sad face, “Shut the fuck up. I did not suffer your presence all this time for you to just leave. Let alone to be dismissed like some serving boy.” Though some private part of her knows this is illogical. That if she finds him so annoying, she should want him gone. But she is a possessive dead girl these days, and she doesn't have much but him and a coin to call her own.

(She refuses to look too deeply into that fact she claims him at all)

Instead she turns her attention back to Isis, “Look, no offense but if anyone is going to tell him to fuck off its me. And I didn't, so he stays, okay?”

Isis’s soft smile blooms into a wider, altogether more wicked one. Like she is utterly pleased by Laura's response, and its only when Nephthys starts to laugh does she remember that Isis loves a good trick.

Shit.

If she had any hot blood in her, it would be rising to her cheeks. Maybe even her ears. Right now, if she were alive. She would be flushed with embarrassment.

But she's dead and thank god for that.

Ha.

+

In the end, Mad Sweeney and Laura join Isis at a small seating area in her office. Nephthys and Horus leave them, saying cheerful goodbyes that don't seem like such, as if one day soon their paths will cross again and soon.

“Do you want anything?” Isis asks, as she pours herself a glass of red wine from a near by table of assorted drinks. Mad Sweeney approaches cautiously but once he knows this isn't a trick question of sorts, points to the southern comfort bottle. She hands the bottle to him and goes to hand him a glass too but he takes the offered bottle and runs. Choosing to put as much physical distance as he can between him and the goddess without actually leaving the room.

“Am I really that scary?” She asks the dead woman, taking the empty glass with her as she sits down to hand to Laura. Who promptly shoves it under his nose. With a gruff sound of annoyance he pops the bottle open and fills her glass.

Isis watches.

Under her stare Mad Sweeney bristles, wants to tell her “Yes, Jesus fucking Christ, yes! YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING. AND THIS IS EXAMPLE FUCKING ONE” -but instead he finds his voice and says, “I already have one small overly strong bitch who has my balls in her pocket. Not really in the market for another.”

(Never forget he has a death wish)

Isis chuckles and lets his insult slide, “She has more than just your balls.” She says it with such knowing that it freezes his blood. Like she has reached in with clever hands and stolen a secret he wasn't aware could so easily been taken. “Don't look so surprised.”

Mad Sweeney attempts to keep his shit together, gently coughs and looks at the goddess, “Not surprised, more like mystified.”

“Its common knowledge by now that she is only walking because of your coin. Your luck.”

Do not sigh in relief. He tells himself while taking a long gulp straight from the bottle. Mostly to buy himself an ounce of time and the chance to look away from her iron gaze. It’s easier to breath when he isn’t.

“Is it now? Wasn't aware that Grimnir and you were so close.”

Just like that, the warmth of the room vanishes and Isis's good mood with it. Replacing her joy with fury. She doesn't hide it, the rage is in her like a storm, radiating from her eyes. In her voice.

“I am no friend of your former employee. If I could smear his name from my memory I would. Just as I would burn him to ash. To let my sons consume him whole. If there is a punishment too cruel to name, I want him to experience it a thousand times.” Isis promises this with venom, spits it out like a rattle snake, forcing Sweeney physically leans away from her.

“Aye, alright. So you didn't hear it from him. Am I allowed to ask how you did?”

The goddess visibly cools her anger and shrugs, “Well, the coin is technically one of mine isn't it? Or rather of an Isis.”

Mad Sweeney and Laura both balk, but he more than her as he quickly forgets his place, “No, it ain't. It's mine. Always has been.”

“Always?”

“YES ALWAYS.” He shouts only to promptly remember…not always. He didn't make it after all, he was no black smith. “It was given to me as a gift when I was a king.”

The petite goddess doesn't smile, but her gaze softens. “Like any good coin, it was made to be used. Not locked up in some vault, to collect dust. I am not mad it fell into your hands, I'm sure it was meant to.” From no where, she plucks a similar gold coin into existence. So much like his own ability that for half a second he feels disjointed. Jealous. 

“Now, my coins, here and now. Those are just shades of magic I have left to spare to the occasional customer who spends it here. What you have Laura, is a piece of the original Isis's magic. Meant not just to bring luck, but justice. Strength to obtain it. Maybe it was placed on your grave without intent, but I have a funny feeling it would just as easily been rolled out of a pocket. The wind would have carried it out, a stray crow or cat would have helped it along.”

“It's meant for a king.” Sweeney tries again, refusing the idea that this is the part of the story always meant to be told. That she was always meant to have it, because if that is true, it means he was always meant to kill her.

And that is too fucked up for him to take.

Isis chuckles warmly at his indignation, “Is it such a strange thought that a king is sometimes a woman?”

Mad Sweeney bites his tongue is muted anger; he’s not good at it, he knows he looks pissed and he can’t stop tapping his foot, but there isn’t a damn thing he can say or do. Isis isn’t wrong, and nor will she allow herself to be to the likes of him. 

He has no power here, no strength and no fucking clue. 

+

“I am not a king,” Laura says in Mad Sweeney’s silence. 

Just short of outraged since this isn't answering anything. In fact, it's just drawing in more questions. “I was just a normal, if really shitty and depressed chick who made some terrible choices. So, you’ve got the wrong dead girl, sorry.”

“A king isn’t just someone with a crown, or a throne, sometimes it is earned. You need the right spirit, to be strong enough to handle that kind of power.” Isis explains, taking a sip of her wine before placing it down. 

“And who says I have that?” Laura digs, this is starting to hurt. She wanted answers, she wanted to find a way back to life. Not to peel back the pages of her dirty end, she knew that part of the story. She was there, wasn't she? 

She knew what fueled her, the sick and overwhelming emptiness that demanded anything and anyone to fill it; of what mistakes came from that sickness, how she had hurt everyone who ever knew her name. She knows all the players involved, of Odin and Sweeney, of Shadow and the ravens who watched.

Just as she knows that part of the story won't change. It's not a rotted tooth she can remove and get away with. It's bone disease, infecting the whole jaw. It's cognitive heart disease. It's apart of her, and it was always going to kill her, one way or another. There is not enough black ink and faith in the world to erase it.

“I know Shadow didn't mean to give me the coin, that I’m only getting this chance because numb nuts over there made a mistake...that even in death, I’m still massively screwing up. I don’t know what am I doing, like at all.” She gives a hysterical chuckle, “I kicked a dude's balls right through his mouth because I didn't know my own strength. I nearly gave my best friend a heart attack because I forgot for one second what I am. I kidnapped a cute little Salim-not Salim for his car, before I knew how much I was getting in the way of his love story. I killed Odin without knowing what that would even mean in the long run. I let Shadow go like it didn't even matter. Even now, I haven't learned anything from this whole mess, haven't found one damn thing that makes sense. Actually, it's been pretty much the exact opposite. I feel like I'm learning less, because now I have to worry about who will eat me because I'm dead or how fucked I am if I’m glued to Lucky Charms over here, and what that means.”

“Oi!” Sweeney hisses, but she ignores him and continues.

“It's obvious at this point, I am doing whatever the fuck I can to keep myself literally together. And yes, I know it's not going well. I know an old Mcdonald's french fry has a better chance of coming back than I do. I am not a fool, you don't have to pretend with me, okay? I don't have the strength of spirit, just like I don't have a light heart. I am not a king or a queen, I am a dead girl who wants something more than nothing.” Laura's voice trembles out of her, and she realizes slowly that Odin hadn't managed to spill all her secrets. 

She still has one left.

“And...and if that's not possible. If I can't get it from you or anyone else, fucking tell me now, because I am tired. I am so tired. Of rotting away and shoving air fresheners down my shirt just so ginger bitch over there doesn't puke all day. I am tired of being followed by every fly and insect, of spitting out maggots and embalming fluid. Of feeling my skin tear, of my nails dropping off and my teeth rattling around in my skull.” The truth pours out of her now, as if the stitching on her chest has come undone, “Of sewing myself up, alone in the dark. Like the world’s saddest Frankenstein girl.”

There's silence and then a clack and a clang, a loud ringing after her confession. Someone downstairs has won big time.

Laura wonders if there was a word for suicidal for the already dead.

She refuses to look at Sweeney when she's done speaking. He's been with her all this time; has seen more sides of herself than she would ever be comfortable with from anyone else. Fuck, he might be her last real tie to the world, might be the last thing she believes in but she never ever wanted him to hear this. 

Admitting it feels too much like confession.

He has been an unwilling witness to her so many of her failures and some small petty thing in her really wishes she could tell him to fuck off for good.

-but then she would be alone, truly alone.

He's done more for her, bitching aside, than anyone has ever done for her. Maybe she'd never forgive him for his part to play in her death, but worse things have happened to her since then and in the grand scheme of things, she knows he's low on the list of villains.

Unlike anyone else, at least he's been trying, and she has noticed. Not grateful, never fucking grateful, but she's noticed.

Sad truth is, if she can't be brought to life, if this whole journey has been for nothing and her getting the coin at all has just been some cosmic joke -she’s ready for it to be over. Laura is done, and the only reason she’s even trying now is the small hope she has that it isn’t. Not because she deserves it, but because now it’s not just her at stake. 

-he is too.

(She is tired enough to admit, that she really doesn't want him gone.)

>

[supershadowywitch]

My Daemons

Okay, so I’ve decided to start making a list of my daemons since they’re begging for one. These are in no particular order and if you have any questions for any of them or me we’d love to answer. Please don’t be shy!

Okay quick disclaimer: Until I was 17-18 I didn’t realize I had daemons. I had thought they were just imaginary characters I created to ward off my loneliness. I feel utterly terrible for putting my daemons through that and is most certainly not the right way to treat them.

Ash: Oh boy, Ash is one of my strongest and oldest daemons. He acts as my protector and sometimes acts as a familiar. 

Diggory: I think Diggory is Ash’s boyfriend but they’re relationship is really rocky. I created him as a way to help Ash learn to be more civil and to have someone to play with when I was busy. (This was a time when I didn’t have very many daemons)

Ashley: She is the twin sister of Ash. She's older then Ash but appears younger and looks a lot like me. She’s gone through some really rough times throughout the years and has sort of ended up mostly mute. I’ve been trying to find ways to help her but it’s a very slow process.

Gunner: ... I don’t really know what to say about this guy actually. He’s the gun slinging boyfriend of Ashly who protects us when the rest are busy. He doesn’t exactly likes to be called a daemon but says it’s better then being called a tulpa. Not sure why.

Sabriel: A somewhat retired spirit hunter that decided to bond with the daemon I was making at the time. When I was younger she taught me a lot of protective magic.

Sam: A incubus that loves himself and everyone around him. He will try and sleep with everyone and anyone he can. He helps me regulate my sexual desire and helps me out with love spells and some personal trouble.

Jase: .... Just one of those weird daemons I don’t fully know how he came to be other then I found him one day in my head playing with some dolls. He’s childlike and acts innocent but has a deep love for raw flesh, and hurting those that hurt me. He loves to make living dolls that creep everyone out and chitter. When someone makes him cry everyone scatters as to not have Christian’s wrath brought upon them.

Christian (2): A big guy who helps me control my anger and is a massive part of helping my wards be stronger and protect me. He has a deep fatherly love for Jase and if someone makes Jase cry he will personally see to their painful death. Luckly most daemons let Jase and Christian be alone.

Christian (1): I’m not too sure why but for some reason I have two Christians that act the exact same and look pretty much the same except some minor clothing differences. The major difference is that Christian 1 doesn’t have a head and I don’t know why. He says he lost it but he’s also in no big rush to find it cuz he likes being without a head... I don’t know why. He just uses a sort of sign language to speak that he says is German sign language but I’m not entire sure.

Marci: Oh boy Marci.... Marci is a spell caster that helps translate my library worth of spell books I’ve either gathered from spirits or past lives (I’m not entirely sure which) She’s a motherly figure to most and helps remind me to eat when I forget.

Nayola: Sabriel’s younger sister. When first created I thought of her as a wendigo but much later after a friend of mine helped me make her into a much more solid form we found out she's a forest changeling. She used to be very animal like with a massive appetite but has since become into a young woman with large antlers. As of right now we are working together to strengthen our bond and work with fae magic.

Raoul: He’s like the doctor to all of the daemons and loves to read medical text books with me. He helps to remember useful medical facts and study up on medical herbs. He’s not a massive fan of magic and often dismisses it... even if he was created by magic.

Blondie: Okay his real name is Timothée Cazenave but everyone calls him Blondie. He’s usually laid back but helps me work with business things, lists of ingredients or cooking. 

Alan - Ash and Ashley’s young cousin who loves gardening and all things fairy related. He’s a fae type of daemon that has his own garden in my mind protected by massive thorn bushes. He loves to talk with me and let’s me relax in his garden when I’m under a lot of pressure.

Eric: Eric is Alan’s boyfriend and is a human. I’m not entire sure what he does but Alan asked me for a boyfriend so I created him one. They really do love each other.

Black: I don’t know if that’s his real name but it’s all he says I should call him. He’s a drama king most of the time and loves to blare his organ in the basement of my head to annoy everyone. We don’t talk much anymore but he seems happy to watch “Phantom of the Opera” all the time and write music to annoy Ash with later.

Phoenix: A mute little girl to is sort of like a wife to Black. She makes sure he doesn’t play his music too loudly (unless Ash made her angry that day) and helps make sure no spirits are getting through the wards on the lower levels of my mind. She speaks by using large cartoon like signs that she pulls out at random and loves to smack Ash with. (He’s quite the trouble maker)

Victor: (Deceased) Victor was a nice guy for a long time. He was my playmate when I was young and helped me through some difficult times. When I got older I had some really bad undiagnosed depression and he ended up going insane. He was scared and frustrated at me and at the time I was terrified of him. He threatened to hurt and kill me and I actually believed him. One day when I was with all my daemons and he was lashing out at me I ended up killing him. After that all my Damons except Ash disappeared and for a long while it was just the two of us before I decided to try again and make things better.

Red: I don’t know what Red was supposed to be. He was one of Ash’s cousins. Maybe a few years older but I haven’t talked to him for a long while. I don’t think he’s really forgiven me for killing this brother Victor. I don’t blame him really.

Louis/Lizzy: This person is a gender fluid spirit that loves to bake and be a sort of therapist to all of the daemons. I don’t see them often as they do a lot of work with my old daemons that have retreated into areas of my mind I can’t quite reach.

Emily: She’s Louis/Lizzy’s girlfriend. She calls herself a voodoo priestess although I’m not sure why as I didn’t design her that way. However she has an extensive Knowledge about hoodoo and voodoo that helps me when I work with voodoo or hoodoo. She’s sort of a strict mother hen to everyone and can very easily be found smacking Ash or Sam with a wooden spoon when they get into trouble.

White zombie dragon: ... yeah I don’t know either but for some reason I have a 40 foot long white zombie dragon in my mind and he claims to be a daemon of mine. I don’t know how this one came to be other then possibly coming from an obscure story of mine.

Ten: (Possibly deceased) I’m not too sure what happened to Ten. He was a fallen angel daemon that worked some small magic but mostly kept to himself. He was there for another daemon of mine but she’s absorbed herself into her work so he’s be left alone. A little while ago I found out he was helping a spirit that wanted to harm me. He was leaving holes in my barriers to let this evil spirit in. I disciplined him for this but he kept doing it so I told him if he was found talking or helping the spirit again he would be thrown out. I didn’t have the heart to kill him after that happened to Victor. Ash begged him to heed my warnings but he didn’t and I ended up tossing him out and told him if he wanted to repent I’d let him back in. He had a choice and knew I would let him come back but he hasn’t come back yet. I kinda miss him but I feel like I did the right thing instead of killing him.

Beast: Another really old daemon that helps my way between my conscious thoughts and subconscious separated. We rarely talk and when we do it’s usually about this shadow person of myself we call “the Insanity” which he keeps locked up in my subconscious. I don’t know why the Insanity is there other then it might be a tulpa I made when I was in really deep depression. All it wants is to destroy me so Beast keeps it locked up.

Lurker: This guy was one of a sort of set that were going to be made to fit my different magics with. However the plans were scrapped after two so he sits at a reception desk in this empty two story hotel in the middle of a forest. He works only with tarot cards but instead of normal tarot cards he uses playing cards. He’s very quiet and just waits for someone to walk in the front doors.

Puppeteer: Oaky, I’ll put this straight out. Puppeteer shouldn’t have been made at all. She was the same base idea as Lurker and was going to have a massive group of daemons to work with. Puppeteer was designed off of the question of “What would I look like/do if I was soulless?” Worst. Fucking. Idea. EVER. She is a horrible person who will do anything as long as it involves violence. She creates dolls (what she calls “poppets”) to control and torture her victims. I’ve ended up locking her in her room in the hotel. We both know she’s going to die one day and I think the thing that unnerves me the most is that she’s okay with that. Every time I let her out she taunts someone to kill her because she knows I won’t be able to bring myself to do it until she breaks a rule that the daemons and I have set up to protect ourselves from daemons like Victor.

Seeker/Sly’ly: I’m mashing these two together since they’re almost the exact same. They protect my physical and spiritual heart from any possible attacks or spells that would go after it. They make sure I present myself as strong and powerful when I feel scared and help me when I need quiet. 

Luce: I think he’s a shapeshifter that sheds his skin each time he turns into a different human but not when he turns into a different animal. He’s a good friend of Sabriel and works in a roadhouse/big bar that the daemons go to when they want to get drunk (usually). He's sweet and has a really weird habit of sleeping on the pool table and loves to talk about his time trying to kill a mole (he’s basically retelling a comedian’s story about a mole). I sometimes go talk to him when I feel like getting spiritually drunk without partying.

Basil: Basil is a milk chocolate and white furred fae ferret that has a stubbly tail and loves to annoy people. He was created after I finished collage as a way to heal myself after all of the pressure. He was a little different from the rest of my Damons as he was made first into a physical form – a stuffed animal – before a daemon form. He’s supposed to protect me from the nightmares I suffer but I think he’s slaking a little. Although I can’t really blame him when he’s fighting bigger monsters off. (Or at least that’s what he tells me) Alan and Marci love him while the rest think he’s a little devil. He’s the only one on record to have made Jase cry and not have a furious Christian upon him. (I think Christian just didn’t want to hurt a tiny animal that just accidentally scared Jase)

I may add more as they come up but that’s all of them that want to show up right now.

[sparda3g]

Tokyo Ghoul:re Chapter 177 Review

Before I begin the review, I have to say this one is going to be difficult. The best I can say is this was an excellent chapter with Ishida’s strength at its finest. That said it’s difficult because it’s a case of an incredible well-written monologue adding with a strong visual that a review cannot do it justice. Much similar to a silent chapter, it’s all about the journey and the meaningful message that speaks profoundly to Kaneki and everyone.

The best I can do is to cut down the action presentation first, then the monologue that leads to the breaking point. When it comes to visual aspect, it’s highly engaging with the intensity and eerie imagery. The story is the last man standing, the last test of survival, and the last mission before going home. The bar was set in the last chapter, so here begins the frightening and moving struggle.

What I adore is how well Kaneki perform against those creepy Kagunes that look ready to form a new human. The image gives a chilling vibe that he is outnumbered and haunted like it’s out of his league. That’s where Kaneki just goes all in and uses the fighting technique that resembles his friends. Whether this is considered an Easter egg or not, it doesn’t feel out of place; well executed with choreograph.

It holds a deeper meaning when understanding his character as a whole. It may not show the comparison, but it didn’t need to. The idea is to have a satisfaction from a different way. If a fan can be satisfied without knowing the depth, it’s a win. It’s pretty neat how Kaneki can manipulate his Kagune to resemble his friends, sticking to his Kagune’s shape. He pulls off Nishiki’s serpent, then Hinami’s 4 pronged chimera, then Shuu’s spiral, and lastly Touka’s blast; got to save your lover for last. It’s really fascinating.

What’s also fascinating is the tension behind this battle. Once again, have this been a series about becoming a king or whatever Shounen goal is, this would have been less terrifying. However, the last chapter left a disturbing feeling of Kaneki may not return. With that in mind, this whole chapter had me floored with frightening beating and torture. I don’t think he would die before reaching to his destination, but the pains and struggle got to me.

Despite how well he was handling by himself, every corner keeps popping a new enemy to eat him alive. The one aspect that I adore from this series is the emphasis on the pain. I sound insane, but it does leave a powerful impact. I cringed when Kaneki got chumped on, looking ready to die at any second. One part that got me a bit shocked was there’s a single page of wretched teeth crunched like it finally took a bite of Kaneki. He survives, but he’s incredibly winded by this point; using the sword to hang on. It was intense and satisfying; however, it couldn’t be done without the monologue.

The show stealer is the monologue. Next to going depth with the characters, Ishida’s strength is written lines. As soon as the chapter begins with the infamous line from the first chapter about tragedy and main character, I knew two things going in: this chapter is going to be brilliant and this is the definitive end for Kaneki’s character arc. I thought the last chapter was perfect enough, but Ishida tops it once again.

The message is about how he once believed that his character is made for tragedy, but in reality, he now sees that everyone is a main character in their own tragedy. This is a sign of how he no longer separates himself from the world. He speaks how everyone have their own reason to steal as well as to be stolen, because the reality is human. That’s who we are; that’s how life works. Each comparison and reflection involves his experience, bringing the sense of understanding. Under a supernatural genre with Ghoul, it speaks profoundly about human nature.

The message becomes sadder when Kaneki begins to describe that life is sad because despite fighting ceaselessly save themselves from loss, they will eventually lose someone and one day, to be forgotten. That’s depressing yet true to how life works. It’s one that hit me hard. It is painful to think that eventually, one will disappear and we have to accept it. There’s no other way around it, but it does deliver a powerful moral.

Even though the end is inevitable, it’s no reason to stop and wait for it. Like Kaneki’s past, there’s always a reason to move forward; reason to enjoy the life you are given. The line about beautiful reminds me of Gintama’s quote; living beautiful until you die. Everything that Kaneki described is what he has gone through, and it all comes down to choice. No longer undecided on his path; he knows what needs to be done. It’s tragic that it all comes down to a full circle.

Ishida did a tremendous job to time the choice of words and visual that brought out a powerful effect. The end point complemented his address and action that heavily reflected by his experience. The sadness in Kaneki’s face when facing a reality to kill Rize in order to save everyone is telling. After what Rize said, whether it is his mind or her conscious, the choice to make no longer hinders him to think otherwise. It doesn’t mean it’s easy, but that’s the story; nothing ever is.

The final two double page spread is profound. The final stares from the two is captivating. Kaneki has to do what he must do, so killing her is the only option. She looks wretched by so many Dragon symptoms running through her body. I don’t even know she’s conscious anymore. The sympathy look of his is disheartening. The last double page spread implies that he has killed her, saying thank you for his chosen life. The circle is complete.

It occurs to me that perhaps the story isn’t about Rize becoming godly, but forever trapped as a vessel. Looking back in the past chapter, she never really left her place. Perhaps that’s why she and Kaneki had one last communication before leaving or resuming their life. You can say Kaneki is doing the favor to end her misery. If she comes out and fight godly, then I am wrong entirely. Otherwise, it’s a tragic end, but that’s her life. Kaneki may feel bad, but he chose this path to end his maker.

Even after finishing the review, it doesn’t do any justice on its delivery. It’s uncertain on how the series will end. It’s certain that this was an excellent chapter that solidified Kaneki’s character. The overall presentation is stellar; clearly, Ishida is giving everything before call it a rest. Only two more chapters to go. The end is near…

[dfroza]

Today’s reading from the ancient book of Proverbs and book of Psalms

for August 31 of 2021 with Proverbs 31 and Psalm 31, accompanied by Psalm 73 for the 73rd day of Astronomical Summer and Psalm 93 for day 243 of the year (now with the consummate book of 150 Psalms in its 2nd revolution this year)

[Proverbs 31]

[Inspired Word]

King Lemuel’s royal words of wisdom:

These are the inspired words my mother taught me.

Listen, my dear son, son of my womb.

You are the answer to my prayers, my son.

So keep yourself sexually pure

from the promiscuous, wayward woman.

Don’t waste the strength of your anointing

on those who ruin kings—

you’ll live to regret it!

For you are a king, Lemuel,

and it’s never fitting for a king to be drunk on wine

or for rulers to crave alcohol.

For when they drink they forget justice

and ignore the rights of those in need,

those who depend on them for leadership.

Strong drink is given to the terminally ill,

who are suffering at the brink of death.

Wine is for those in depression

in order to drown their sorrows.

Let them drink and forget their poverty and misery.

But you are to be a king who speaks up on behalf

of the disenfranchised

and pleads for the legal rights of the defenseless

and those who are dying.

Be a righteous king, judging on behalf of the poor

and interceding for those most in need.

[The Radiant Bride]

Who could ever find a wife like this one—

she is a woman of strength and mighty valor!

She’s full of wealth and wisdom.

The price paid for her was greater than many jewels.

Her husband has entrusted his heart to her,

for she brings him the rich spoils of victory.

All throughout her life she brings him what is good and not evil.

She searches out continually to possess

that which is pure and righteous.

She delights in the work of her hands.

She gives out revelation-truth to feed others.

She is like a trading ship bringing divine supplies

from the merchant.

Even in the night season she arises and sets food on the table

for hungry ones in her house and for others.

She sets her heart upon a field and takes it as her own.

She labors there to plant the living vines.

She wraps herself in strength, might, and power in all her works.

She tastes and experiences a better substance,

and her shining light will not be extinguished,

no matter how dark the night.

She stretches out her hands to help the needy

and she lays hold of the wheels of government.

She is known by her extravagant generosity to the poor,

for she always reaches out her hands to those in need.

She is not afraid of tribulation,

for all her household is covered in the dual garments

of righteousness and grace.

Her clothing is beautifully knit together—

a purple gown of exquisite linen.

Her husband is famous and admired by all,

sitting as the venerable judge of his people.

Even her works of righteousness

she does for the benefit of her enemies.

Bold power and glorious majesty are wrapped around her

as she laughs with joy over the latter days.

Her teachings are filled with wisdom and kindness

as loving instruction pours from her lips.

She watches over the ways of her household

and meets every need they have.

Her sons and daughters arise in one accord to extol her virtues,

and her husband arises to speak of her in glowing terms.

“There are many valiant and noble ones,

but you have ascended above them all!”

Charm can be misleading,

and beauty is vain and so quickly fades,

but this virtuous woman lives in the wonder, awe,

and fear of the Lord.

She will be praised throughout eternity.

So go ahead and give her the credit that is due,

for she has become a radiant woman,

and all her loving works of righteousness deserve to be admired

at the gateways of every city!

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 31 (The Passion Translation)

[Psalm 31]

How Great Is Your Goodness

For the Pure and Shining One

A song of poetic praise by King David

I trust you, Lord, to be my hiding place.

Don’t let me down.

Don’t let my enemies bring me to shame.

Come and rescue me, for you are the only God

who always does what is right.

Rescue me quickly when I cry out to you.

At the sound of my prayer may your ear be turned to me.

Be my strong shelter and hiding place on high.

Pull me into victory and breakthrough.

For you are my high fortress, where I’m kept safe.

You are to me a stronghold of salvation.

When you deliver me out of this peril,

it will bring glory to your name.

As you guide me forth I’ll be kept safe

from the hidden snares of the enemy—

the secret traps that lie before me—

for you have become my rock of strength.

Into your hands I now entrust my spirit.

O Lord, the God of faithfulness,

you have rescued and redeemed me.

I despise these deceptive illusions,

all this pretense and nonsense,

for I worship only you.

In mercy you have seen my troubles, and you have cared for me;

even during this crisis in my soul I will be radiant with joy,

filled with praise for your love and mercy.

You have kept me from being conquered by my enemy;

you broke open the way to bring me to freedom,

into a beautiful, broad place.

O Lord, help me again! Keep showing me such mercy.

For I am in anguish, always in tears,

and I’m worn out with weeping.

I’m becoming old because of grief; my health is broken.

I’m exhausted! My life is spent with sorrow,

my years with sighing and sadness.

Because of all these troubles, I have no more strength.

My inner being is so weak and frail.

My enemies say, “You are nothing!”

Even my friends and neighbors hold me in contempt!

They dread seeing me,

and they look the other way when I pass by.

I am totally forgotten, buried away like a dead man,

discarded like a broken dish thrown in the trash.

I overheard their whispered threats, the slander of my enemies.

I’m terrified as they plot and scheme to take my life.

I’m desperate, Lord! I throw myself upon you,

for you alone are my God!

My life, my every moment, my destiny—it’s all in your hands.

So I know you can deliver me

from those who persecute me relentlessly.

Smile on me, your servant.

Let your undying love and glorious grace

save me from all this gloom.

As I call upon you, let my shame and disgrace

be replaced by your favor once again.

But let shame and disgrace fall instead upon the wicked—

those going to their own doom,

drifting down in silence to the dust of death.

At last their lying lips will be muted in their graves.

For they are arrogant, filled with contempt and conceit

as they speak against the godly.

Lord, how wonderful you are!

You have stored up so many good things for us,

like a treasure chest heaped up and spilling over with blessings—

all for those who honor and worship you!

Everybody knows what you can do

for those who turn and hide themselves in you.

So hide all your beloved ones

in the sheltered, secret place before your face.

Overshadow them with your glory-presence.

Keep them from these accusations, the brutal insults of evil men.

Tuck them safely away in the tabernacle where you dwell.

The name of the Lord is blessed and lifted high!

For his marvelous miracle of mercy protected me

when I was overwhelmed by my enemies.

I spoke hastily when I said, “The Lord has deserted me.”

For in truth, you did hear my prayer and came to rescue me.

Listen to me, all you godly ones: Love the Lord with passion!

The Lord protects and preserves all those who are loyal to him.

But he pays back in full all those who reject him in their pride.

So cheer up! Take courage, all you who love him.

Wait for him to break through for you, all who trust in him!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 31 (The Passion Translation)

[Book 3]

The Leviticus Psalms

Psalms of worship and God’s house

[Psalm 73]

God’s Justice

Asaph’s psalm

No one can deny it—God is really good to Israel

and to all those with pure hearts.

But I nearly missed seeing it for myself.

Here’s my story: I narrowly missed losing it all.

I was stumbling over what I saw the wicked doing.

For when I saw the boasters with such wealth and prosperity,

I became jealous over their smug security.

Indulging in whatever they wanted, going where they wanted,

doing what they wanted, and with no care in the world,

no pain, no problems—they seemed to have it made.

They lived as though life would never end.

They didn’t even try to hide their pride and opulence.

Cruelty and violence are parts of their lifestyle.

Pampered and pompous, vice oozes from their souls;

they overflow with vanity.

They’re such snobs—looking down their noses.

They even scoff at God!

They are nothing but bullies threatening God’s people.

They are loudmouths with no fear of God, pretending to know it all—

windbags full of hot air, impressing only themselves.

Yet the people keep coming back to listen

to more of their nonsense.

They tell their cohorts, “God will never know.

See, he has no clue of what we’re doing.”

These are the wicked ones I’m talking about!

They never have to lift a finger,

living a life of ease while their riches multiply.

Have I been foolish to play by the rules and keep my life pure?

Here I am suffering under your discipline day after day.

I feel like I’m being punished all day long.

If I had given in to my pain and spoken of what I was really feeling,

it would have sounded like unfaithfulness to the next generation.

When I tried to understand it all, I just couldn’t.

It was too puzzling—too much of a riddle to me.

But then one day I was brought into the sanctuaries of God,

and in the light of glory, my distorted perspective vanished.

Then I understood that the destiny of the wicked was near!

They’re the ones who are on the slippery path,

and God will suddenly let them slide off into destruction

to be consumed with terrors forever!

It will be an instant end to all their life of ease;

a blink of the eye and they’re swept away by sudden calamity!

They’re all nothing more than momentary monarchs—

soon to disappear like a dream when one awakes.

When the rooster crows,

Lord God, you’ll despise their life of fantasies.

When I saw all of this, what turmoil filled my heart,

piercing my opinions with your truth.

I was so stupid. I was senseless and ignorant,

acting like a brute beast before you, Lord.

Yet, in spite of all this, I still belong to you;

you hold me by my right hand.

You lead me with your secret wisdom.

And following you brings me into your brightness and glory!

Whom have I in heaven but you? You’re all I want!

No one on earth means as much to me as you.

Lord, so many times I fail; I fall into disgrace.

But when I trust in you, I have a strong and glorious presence

protecting and anointing me. Forever you’re all I need!

Those who abandon the worship of God will perish.

The false and unfaithful will be silenced, never heard from again.

But I’ll keep coming closer and closer to you, Lord Yahweh,

for your name is good to me. I’ll keep telling the world of

your awesome works, my faithful and glorious God!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 73 (The Passion Translation)

[nautiscarader]

Top five cartoon villains?

So, I think I should only classify villains that were, well, successful in their job, as opposed to goofy. This is why you won’t see, for example, Shego on this list, since she does fall somewhere in between, or Doofenshmirtz, who really stands out, but not by being a villain at all. 

5. Lord Dominator (Wander over Yonder)

So, we have a villain in our cartoon. What can be even better?  A villain which scares other villains. And this is exactly what Lord Dominator does. She is not a spoiled, tantrum-throwing buffoon like Lord Hater, or any other, over-the-top evil-doer from this excellent series, but one determined to, well, destroy and dominate. 

It is her musical number where we really learn of her intentions, and if that’s not a perfect summary of her actions and introduction of an evil plan, then I don’t know what could be. A villain so terrifying it makes other villains and heroes join forces is a strong contender to be on anyone’s top list. Sadly, WoY has been cancelled, so we never really got a proper conclusion, since she, after all, rejected Wander’s basket of fruits, and offer to be his friend.

4. Joker (Batman TAS)

Never really been a fan of comics, so this was the first version of Joker I’ve seen, and, well, can’t imagine a stronger start. 

Voiced by Mark Hamill he has become a default Joker for many, and for good reasons. He is funny, but menacing. Exaggerated, but threatening. Insane, but calculating. He is a perfect opposite for Batman, bringing the madness to the already troubled world by torturing, poisoning, blackmailing and of course, blowing the shit up. 

It’s the side episodes, like “The Trial” or “Almost got ‘im” which stand out for me, and show how colourful villains of Batman TAS were, with Joker being their rightful prince.  

3. Toffee (Star vs The Forces of Evil)

SVTFOE started off with Ludo, a truly comical, incompetent villain like many others: sitting in his giant castle, screaming at his cronies about the heroes foiling his plans. Nothing better than Rita Repulsa, really. But then, out of nowhere, we were introduced to Toffee, whose cold, stoic demeanour contrasted with Ludo at once. And from the moment we’ve seen him, we knew that he would be pulling the strings soon.

Through Ludo, both in metaphorical, and later, literal meaning, he starts to exact his revenge on the Butterfly family. 

The first, truly chilling moment was when Star confronted him and instead of a flashy, epic battle, she was forced to destroy one thing that mattered to her, aside from Marco: her wand. A simple, but effective act of evil.

It was his last moment, when he proclaimed to Moon that her daughter has been killed that truly shows how menacing he can be. Not to mention that Marco punched through him at that revelation.

2. Azula (Avatar the Last Airbender)

I’ve watched ATLA when I was sophomore in college, and I thought I was way past being scared by cartoons, but Azula has managed to bring that fear back. 

She was a supreme, cold-hearted, maniacal villain, with her broken mind obsessed with power and domination. And worst of all, she was smart. 

Many times I’ve seen villains being one step ahead of the heroes, but there were moments I felt Azula was one step ahead of the writers. 

I think it was “The chase” episode which showed the raw determination in capturing Aang, closely was followed by two others: “the drill”, and “The Earth King” that showed the spectrum of her actions. Raw power vs sneaking in and striking the enemy from within. And of course, her final battle with Zuko and Katara in the finale is legendary, both from visual and ideological standpoints.. 

Lots of credit go to her sidekicks, Mai and Ty-Lee, which both show how dangerous non-benders can be in fight, utilising chi-blocking and, well, actual blocking, which makes facing Azula even more of a nightmare to battle.  

I should also give honourable mentions to both Amon and Zaheer from Legend of Korra. They were terrifying as well: Amon being able to seemingly permanently block one’s bending abilities to get destroy bending at all, and Zaheer for trying to get rid of not just Korra, but Avatar’s spirit as well. Scenes with them were exactly as blood-freezing as any of Azula’s. Too bad LoK’s insanely short books weakened their buildup.

1. Bill Cipher (Gravity Falls)

Azula was number 1 for a long time, but Bill has dethroned her for good for me. This is where we see psychological manipulation at its finest and creepiest. Yeah, sure, he can be goofy sometimes with his monster sidekicks, or his occasional comedic voice, but ultimately, Bill doesn’t care whom is he using for his goal. Tricking people into signing demonic pacts and using people as puppets to his grand scheme is bloody terrifying. 

If it was just the stuff he did during the series and in the finale, he would still be scary, but perhaps not to occupy top of the list. 

But it’s the bit that’s in the Journal number 3, written by Bill himself (or rather Dipper being possessed by him) that really scares the living bajeesus out of me. 

And that requires, in its full extent, TW: suicide mention.

I had the chills when that was first leaked out, and I still have them till this day. Just imagine, for a second, the paralysing, depressing, mental blockade, lack of any choice Mabel would have to face in this situation, and worse, Dipper being unable to do anything.

For wanting to kill a child just to mentally torture another one, Bill, you deserve the first place, you sick geometrical fuck.   

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “STAY”

The Joker died a few days after turning 38; it was a gruesome end due to an unexpected ambush plotted by several gangs that didn’t want him around anymore. But he is not completely gone: once a year you can bring him back for just 24 hours. And soon this won’t be possible either because the unexpected illness is going to claim your life. There will be nobody left to bring him back, unless…

You hesitated showing him what you can do: you were afraid The Joker will freak out and chase you away. But he didn’t; J thought it was amazing. If anything, it made The King of Gotham even more interested in you.

“How did you do that, Princess?!” his eyes got big each time you brought small beings back to life: your puppy, his favorite goldfish, Frost’s cat or that cute parrot Panda had.

“I’m not sure,” you lifted your shoulders up. “I wish it and it happens.”

“That’s awesome!” J watched in awe, entirely submersed in his girlfriend’s special gift.”Can you bring back people?!” he would always ask, even if your answer didn’t change:

“I never tried because there is no person I want to bring back.”

************

But after The Joker was assassinated, you finally had somebody your heart desired to bring back. You were so miserable and depressed on your 31st birthday: the first one he wasn’t there for in the three years you’ve been together.

You only bought a cupcake with a small candle you blew out while crying, alone and desperate:

“I wish for J to come back,” you whispered to yourself, not knowing if it will work or not.

You opened your eyes in the morning and gasped: he was in bed on his side, asleep. Not completely there - mostly like a projection of his body. You could see through him and when you tried to touch his face your fingers touched nothing but air. The Joker didn’t seem aware of your presence, didn’t opened his eyes at all. His unearthly, temporary existence kept you glued in bed the whole day; you called his name repeatedly but he didn’t hear you. Maybe there was nothing there and you were hallucinating… Who knew?…

Yet…you could feel him beside you, he even smelled like his cologne. You started crying the next morning when J suddenly vanished, leaving nothing behind but a heartbroken Y/N that couldn’t understand why he wasn’t there for longer. You were able to summon him back for exactly 24 hours.

Afterwards you wished for him to come back on a daily basis without success. Why wasn’t it working?… Did you lose your ability?… Maybe it worked different on humans?…Did it take a lot of energy to bring back a person? Did you ran out and had to recharge?…Nobody to answer the questions since it was a mystery to even the owner of such a tremendous and scary power.

On your next birthday, you wished for him to be alive and this time it worked, exactly a year after his first arrival. Not a day sooner.

You woke up next morning and stopped breathing for a few seconds: The Joker was there again, resting, peacefully holding on to your waist. You caressed his green hair and he opened his eyes, tired.

J frowned when you started bawling, afraid to move.

“Why am I here?”

You didn’t answer but mustered the courage to yank him in your arms and hugged him really, really tight, not believing you could actually touch him.

“Did you bring me back?”

All you could do was kiss his cheek and hold him again, shaking, not being able to control your sobbing.

“Did you miss me?” he sadly smiled and that made you so upset.

“Yes…y-yes…I miss you every second, ” you sniffled and clung to him, frightened he will disappear without any warning.

The Joker felt exhausted; almost like after a very long journey that made him weak and incapable to respond to the real world anymore; he was dead, after all. His only connection to reality was the woman that loved him and her strong desire to have him close.

“I’m so worn out, Y/N…” he yawned, struggling to stay awake.

“Can you talk to me, please?” you begged and he nodded a yes, but his eyes closed and you couldn’t wake him up afterwards.

You guarded his restless dreams and tried not to blink too often, this way you could see him as much as possible. Thank God there wasn’t a soul around to hear your screams when he faded into nothingness after the 24 hours ended. It hurt so badly seeing him go away, unaware you were still there, wanting to hear his voice more than anything.

As the years went by, The Joker became more and more alert every time he was brought back. You would drive him around, showing him the city and places he liked. J never ate or drank and didn’t seem to age; he stayed 38 while you grew older.

Once, you asked him where he goes when he’s not with you. His eyes got so dark and there was so much pain in them it made your heart sink.

“I got exactly what I deserve, don’t worry,” he mumbled and forced himself to smile but you knew something was wrong. “Let’s just say I’m the happiest when I can be with my girl.”

You didn’t fight anymore; there wasn’t time for too much since he was alive only one day each year. You enjoyed his company and The Joker seemed to fully savor yours too.

When you turned 37 and he opened his eyes the next day, you were finally glowing for once; you didn’t look sad and he was surprised.

“Hi baby, ” you pecked his lips in a hurry, then jumped out of bed and helped him up. “Come on, I want you to meet somebody,” you dragged him in the bedroom next to yours, excited to show him the little miracle he had no idea about.

The 3 months old Emma was sleeping in the crib, unaware of her father’s presence.

“This is your daughter,” you got teary and carefully took her in your arms, then placed her in his. The Joker stood there, astonished, staring at his child. “I find out I was pregnant after your last year’s visit,” you explained, nervously biting on your lips. “Can you believe this happened?!”

J was able to utter just a few words:

“She’s so cute…”

He spent the whole day he was allowed to live with his baby and the new mother. And didn’t share the fact that he wished more than ever to stay with the two of them.

But you knew; it showed all over his face.  How you regretted and cursed your strange powers that couldn’t keep him there more than a few hours…

**************

You had so many pictures around with J and always talked about him, this way Emma was familiar with her dad. Your daughter only saw him once a year, but she recognized J when he showed up at the penthouse. Shy at first, the little girl always warmed up to him after a few minutes, disappointed when her parent would vanish without a trace the next day. You tried to explain what’s going on, but she was too young to comprehend such complicated matters.

**************

When you turned 47 and The Joker opened his eyes after your birthday, the first thing he noticed was your bald head. You looked ill: dark circles under your eyes, skinny and pale.

“What’s wrong, Pumpkin?” he got on his elbow, worried and dizzy after waking up in the world of the living again. You just quietly pulled him towards you, wanting to talk to him before his 10 year old daughter would barge in to see her dad.

“I’m very sick…” and you paused, finding it hard to even open your mouth. “ I have brain cancer,” you gave him the news and he felt a huge weight on his chest. “It was discovered 10 months ago and…and…” and your voice got shaky,” I am not going to be here next year for my birthday to bring you back.”

The Joker never saw you cry like you did that day and for the first time ever he felt such a terrible ache washing over him; it made him wonder if he was still on the other side.

“Jesus, Princess,” he kissed you and you cuddled in his embrace, numb to anything else but his touch. “What about Emma?”

“I made arrangements,” you informed him after calming down a bit, “but I’m so concerned about her future. I think she inherited my ability,” you chuckled through tears, anxious at the revelation.

“Really?!” J whispered, not sure if he liked that or not, aware of what a burden it can be.

“U-hum, I witnessed her bring a butterfly back to life. Beautiful …and terrifying…” you almost choked and he understood the meaning of your statement.

“What are we going to do?” the question followed and there was no good answer to alleviate the insecurity.

“There is nothing we can do since we will both be gone…” and your sorrow was interrupted by Emma opening the door, thrilled to see The Joker is in her mom’s bedroom:

“Daddy ! You’re here!”

**************

“Hurry up, Y/N!” J keeps on encouraging you to move faster through the white mist.”Faster!” he leads you towards the place he knows about, hoping you will make it in time.

You have no clue what’s going on; you are so groggy and confused after finding yourself in this weird place with The Joker by your side, apparently taking you somewhere. Did you die in your sleep? Can’t even remember, everything is scrambled in your head.

“Where are we going?” you rub your eyes with your free hand, attempting to snap out of the trance.

“Sssttt, be quiet or they’ll hear you,” he signals and you distinguish faint cries, then howling and screams in the fog surrounding the bizarre realm. “There it is, come on!!!” J almost runs and you stumble behind him, blindly following his command.

You find yourself in front of two enormous gates, barely opened for one person to sneak in.

“Go!” J gives you a nudge towards the gap, letting go of your hand.

“Where are we going?” you yawn, puzzled and drained, squeezing on the other side of the portal, stopping to wait for him.

But he backs out when the enormous Dark Shadow that appeared out of nowhere slams the entrance shut, hissing at The Joker:

“Be gone! You know you can’t pass through The Gates of Afterlife!”

“Hey, let him in!” you immediately rush to open the gates, awoken by anxiety; they don’t even budge. The Guardian towers over his kingdom, gently pushing you away.

“You belong in here, he doesn’t. Move !”

You surely don’t understand what’s going on but you know one thing:

“Then let me out, I want to go back there!”

“Once you are inside, you can never go out. And the lost souls doomed to never find peace can’t come in.”

“I want to go to him, you can’t keep us apart ! Do you know how long we’ve been separated?! It’s not fair, let me out !” you plead, startled at the concept of being isolated from one another for eternity.

“You can never go out and he can never come in !” the menacing sentence echoes all around you before the creature fades away, done with his task of protecting the passage until the next arrivals.

“I don’t want to be in here!!!!!!!!!” you scream as loud as you can, the sounds bouncing in the stillness without anybody around to hear them. You walk along the gates, peaking outside through the heavy, tall bars making up the fence that continues to border the land through infinity. There is no end to it, no way to escape. You feel like a caged beast, trapped without any means to break free.

You see The Joker out there in that milky, dense mist and stop, squeezing the cold bars with your fingers.

“J !!! J!!!!” you shout and he cautiously approaches, taking the hand you extended through the bars. “What’s happening?” you wince when he kisses your knuckles, aware it’s forbidden and he will probably pay for it.

“You don’t deserve to be out here with the rest of us, Princess. You belong inside,” J keeps your fingers on his face, enjoying the connection.

“I don’t want to be inside without you, why did you trick me?!” you scold him, starting to cry.

“I’m The Trickster, remember? That’s what I do,” he tries to joke and can’t even smile at his own remark. “I have to go, but I will stay close, alright?”

“No, no! Where are you going?!” you try to hold on to him and he walks backwards, growling:

“I’m sorry I was mean to you so many times when we were alive…”

You push yourself against the fence, wanting to grab him but he is too far already.

“I forgive you!! Do you hear me?? I forgive you, come back!!!!!!! Please come back!!” you implore, frozen when he is swallowed by the fog outside. “Don’t leave…” you rest your head against the bars, sobbing. “Don’t leave…I forgive you…Stay with me…”

****************

“Why doesn’t he move?” The Guardian asks, intrigued. You keep on glaring outside, The Joker’s shape petrified in the same position for a long time. You can’t tell for how many days, weeks or months since there is no way to tell; time has no meaning here.

“It hurts more if you don’t move,” the Dark Shadow continues and you satisfy its curiosity:

“He wants to see me, that’s why he’s not moving. He wants to look at me…” you wipe your eyes, not letting The Joker out of your sight either.

“Why don’t you go and enjoy you afterlife? You’ve been here for a while.”

“I just want to look at him, I don’t care about anything else,” you sigh, discretely waving at J and he waves back.

“I’ll never understand humans,” The Guardian huffs. “There is nothing outside but demons, regrets and torment. If you don’t move, you’re easy pray for them to torture.”

“He’s used to that,” you turn your attention towards the creature. “He was a tortured soul way before he died, pain won’t bother him now. The demons in his mind accustomed him to agony when he was alive; he simply doesn’t care anymore.”

“Mmmm…” is the only reaction you get and The Guardian decides to leave you alone since it can’t convince you to abandon your useless mission.

The sudden, intense light illuminating the darkness and the mist beyond the gates makes you squint your eyes, uncomfortable.

“What is this?” you shield your face from the burning glow and the outworldy companion snarls, annoyed.

“That’s a very strong one, stronger than yours!”

“What?” you yell over the ominous ruckus that’s growing with each second, thunder and lightning increasing intensity until you can barely see and hear.

“It’s your daughter!” The Dark Shadow’s threatening demeanor scares you for once. “She wished for you and him to be alive again, she’s finally strong enough to do it ! And she’s already more powerful than you were! This can’t happen, I won’t let you leave!”

You brace for the worst, clearly no match for the Guardian when it all goes silent, just a strong wind swiping the hallowed ground. You and J are gone and The Underworld’s custodian shrieks, wanting vengeance for this transgression:

“I hate humans!”

******************

You stretch a bit and open your eyes, your head resting on The Joker’s shoulder. He is still dreaming and you kiss his skin, slowly moving your eyes around, recognizing your bed inside the master bedroom at the penthouse. Your gaze stops upon the recliner where a teenager Emma sleeps, barely turned 16 last night. You see a small birthday cake on the coffee table next to her, one candle adorning the sweet treat.

Your daughter wished for her parents to come back on her birthday again and it finally happened; so many failed attempts over the years and she almost lost faith.

J groans in his sleep and you are quick to caress his arm, whispering under your breath:

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

Also read: MASTERLIST

http://diyunho(dot)tumblr(dot)com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

[thefatfeministwitch]

Black cats and witches go together like newt’s eyes and cauldrons! The black cat has been following in the footsteps of their witchy master for as long as anyone can remember, and it’s no wonder. Cats are mysterious, agile, cunning, and vicious hunters. Cats get what they want and always land on all fours no matter what. The power and worship of cats goes back to ancient Egypt and to the goddess Bast, the mother of all cats. Bast was the goddess of love, sexuality, fertility and music. She was a strong, sensual goddess and is often depicted as being part cat or being surrounded by cats. Her grace, beauty and mystery matched that of the cat and this is where the story begins. Witches were always seen as wild women, women without morals and who eschewed the domination of men and of male run society. Because of its relation to Bast, the strong sexual goddess, the cat has always been seen as a sign of a woman’s rebellion against the norm, and a retreat into “darkness”. Witches have always been one with nature, and so it was only natural for a witch to develop a friendship with animals. A single animal who is fiercely loyal to a witch, and who aids in their magic is called a familiar, and the black cat is the most popular familiar of all.

GPOY TBH

The draw of a witch’s cat has persisted into modern society and witches in movies, on tv, and in books often have a loyal cat that appears to have chosen them – though few actually show witches working with their cats! Your cat friend can help cleanse your home of negative energy, lend energy to spells and rituals, and offer a connection to certain deities. If your cat is willing, incorporating them into your practice can be rewarding for both of you.

Since it’s Friday the 13th, let’s start with the real king of the magickal cats – the black cat!

The Black Cat

The black cat is the one most associated with witches and magick. In French the black cat is called matagot, or the magician’s cat. Contrary to North American superstitions, the matagot was considered good luck and any family who welcomed such a cat into their home was truly blessed. In England and Japan, a black cat crossing your path is seen as a good luck charm.

When the Pilgrims came to North America, armed with biblical level prejudice, they feared anything that could be considered evil. They claimed all black cats were either witch’s familiars or witches themselves who could shapeshift. This is why many people believe black cats are unlucky now.

In Scotland a fairy creature known as the Cat Sidhe (Cat She) was depicted as a large black cat with a white spot on his chest and was known as the king of the cats! Like most fairy creatures, the Cat Sidhe was not trusted but the people of the Scottish highlands. Legend said that the cat Sidhe could steal the soul of a person who had recently died before their soul could be taken to the afterlife by the gods, by passing over the body before the funeral. Night watches were set up and many methods of distraction were often set up to keep the Cat Sidhe away from the body at all costs. It was also said that this spectral cat was attracted to warm fires (cats love to sleep on the hearth!) and so none were lit in the funeral room. On Samhain, households that put out a saucer of milk for the Cat Sidhe would be blessed for the year with good luck, and houses that did not would be cursed with dried up cows until the following Samhain when they got a chance at redemption. In later years the legend changed to be about a witch who could take the form of a cat, rather than a creature from the Faerie realm.

The black cat was always seen as a symbol of magick and the mysteries on the night time world. Many black cats are depicted almost being electrically charged. This nocturnal mystery was a companion to wise women, healers, conjurors, and cunning men who gathered magickal herbs by the light of the moon.

Use images of the matagot in your spells to increase your magickal power, to incite mystery and energy of the moon, and to bring on good luck.

The Magick of House Cats

Whether you’ve got a familiar, or just a friend (or many!) cats have a ton of magical benefits that can improve the energy of your home and your overall well-being.

Cats climb in, on, around, and underneath EVERYTHING. They have a very fluid way of getting into all of the corners and dark spots in your home, and since cats are so in tune with energy – it’s no mistake. Cats move energy around, break up stale or negative energy, and keep the overall feeling of your home more positive – and they do it on purpose.

Like most animals, cats can also sense things like illness, sadness or depression, and negative emotions or situations. Some cats will bolt, but many will do their best to improve the situation. Whether that’s just by being there and breaking up negative energy, cuddling to cheer you up, or clearing the space through sound. Purring is a very gentle, repetitive sound that clears the energy of a space and since you know it’s a loving sound it will instantly lift your spirits and offer support.

At nighttime, cats take their jobs as night watchmen very seriously and not only protect you from physical assailants, but can also help to keep away spirits and nightmares. If you suffer from nightmares, clear your bedroom with smoke like sage or sandalwood, and maybe tuck a protective herb into your pillow (I like rosemary!). Before you go to bed call in your cat and gently explain to them the problem and ask them to keep you safe. Cats can sense when something is wrong and yours will no doubt stay close all night.

Of Course there are Goddesses of Cats!

Though cats were prominently featured in ancient Egyptian art work and magick and many gods and goddesses worked with cats, no cat deity is more famous than Bast, or Bastet – the Egyptian goddess with the head of a regal black cat.

Bast is the goddess of fertility, love, music, and sexuality. She was most frequently depicted as a woman with the head of a black cat and holding a sistern (Egyptian musical instrument) or basket. Her city was Bubastis, and here her temple featured a lush grove and was home to many temple cats who were pampered to no end. The temple also served as the final resting place for other beloved cats of the common people. Thousands of mummified cats have been found in a tomb in the temple at Bubastis, and it’s believed that by laying their beloved pets to rest here that their words and prayers would reach the goddess. There were even a few royal shrines erected by pharaohs for their cats.

Bast is gentle, loving and understanding – though fiercely protective of her family. When Bast becomes threatened she takes on the persona of predatory lioness Pasht. She loves to celebrate, dance, and have fun. Her festivals in mid-April always caused quite a stir and are often compared to a modern day mardi gras.

Call on Bast when you want to do magick to increase your sexuality or sexual attraction, and for fertility or pregnancy.

Sekhmet is another Egyptian cat deity, though sort of the polar opposite of Bast. Sekhmet was portrayed with the head of a lioness and was often shown with a crown of fire or pure sunlight and a cobra. She was often referred to as ‘The Terrible One’ or ‘She Who is Powerful’. She was the goddess of human fate and is often associated with the colour red to symbolize the power of the sun and the blood shed during battle. She was a goddess of power, fire, and war. She was often honoured and prayed to by soldiers before marching off.

Though she sounds terrifying, Sekhmet of course had her softer qualities. She was a fierce protector who brought closure to unhealthy situations, was incredibly wise, and fiercely protective of her people.

Call on Sekhmet if you feel threatened of attacked, to defend your home, and for courage and strength in difficult situations.

Freya was a Norse goddess of love and sexuality, beauty, magick, shapeshifting and was the leader of the Valkyries. She was also known as the mistress of cats because she rode in a chariot pulled by two large, silver lynx-type cats. Cats are known as a sacred animal to the goddess and farmers who put out milk for stray cats were thought to be blessed by Freya.

Freya was also a talented witch and taught other Norse gods about love potions and charms. In modern days she’s associated with magick, witches, intuition, cat magick, enchantment, and female power.

Call on Freya when you need to get in touch with your feminine side, magick to do with love, boosting your intuition or psychic power, or when you’re unsure which path to take and maybe need to hop a lift on a cat-drawn chariot.

Attracting your own feline familiar

Many witches believe that the familiar will choose the witch, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be a bit proactive. Visit animal shelters and maybe even volunteer and see if any cats get attached. Finding a cat through a shelter or fostering program as opposed to going through a breeder assures that your cat is familiar with people, in good health and well cared for, and allows you to learn a bit more about their personality. It also means your cat will be extra appreciative of their new home.

If you’re in Windsor come volunteer with me!

You can also attract a new familiar to your home by planting cat nip and cat grass outside (you’ll make so many new friends!), putting images of cats in your windows that have been charged with this intent and you can even do candle spells to attract them. Brown candles are often used in magick dealing with animals, and luckily they can be found almost anywhere – usually in delicious scents. Many metaphysical stores will carry cat-shaped figure candles, and if you can find one in brown you’re extra set!

Dress your candle in an attracting oil, or maybe even catnip oil, and meditate on the kind of familiar you feel you need. This is no different than attracting love or a new job, just focus your intent on the kind of companion you wish you attract and put that energy out in the world. You can carve the qualities you want into the candle, burn the candle on top of a list you’ve made and even put the candle in the window for extra visibility. Do this once a month, especially on or after the new moon, until your new familiar makes itself known to you. In that time keep an eye and an ear out for cats, maybe re-visit or volunteer at those local shelters.

Familiar or Just a Friend?

BCFFs!

Unfortunately, just because you find a cat you really click with, doesn’t mean they’ll be interested in being a familiar. It’s important not to force it. Ease the cat into it. Start by setting up some magical items on the floor somewhere they like and see how they react. If you want to keep everything on an altar, maybe set up a perch nearby! A tall cat tree right near the altar will make it clear they’re welcome and even have their own place to join or observe.

Offer treats before rituals so they associate treats and pets and chin scritches with ritual time.  If you want to physically bring them into a circle or working space be very gentle and let them leave if they’re uncomfortable.

Incorporate catnip into your spells or rituals! Catnip is popular in spells to attract love and best friends; it attracts good spirits and good luck to your home, and helps with overall happiness for everyone. It’s a wonderful member of the mint family to incorporate into almost any magical working.

A magickal cat or familiar will be interested in your magick in some way, and not act like you’ve just brought out the vacuum cleaner. They will either stand guard in the same way every time, they will enter your circle and lend their energy, or they might even actively participate! If a cat you’ve had for a while is interested in your magick and really wants to be a part of it you may have already found your familiar.

And what if the cat you’ve chosen to be your familiar isn’t interested? Just cherish your pet for exactly who they are, and enjoy all of the benefits that any cat can bring into your home and life.

Feline Friendly Sketchy Herbs and Magic Rocks!

Catnip: Encourages love, good fortune, beauty, and happiness. Tuck the flowering tops into charm bags for these purposes and bless it before giving it to your magickal cat.

Valerian: another herb cats love! Valerian flowers and leaves are used in spells for love; to help get a good night’s sleep, for protection, and to encourage good health.

Amber is sacred to Freya and can offer safety and relief in the birth of kittens.

Citrine is a popular protection talisman for cats.

Lapis Lazuli was a popular stone in ancient Egypt for healing and increasing psychic abilities.

Cat’s Eye is a stone of protection and is often used to protect from the evil eye and to bring good luck. The Cat’s Eye also protects the accident prone, much like a cat always landing on its feet.

Tiger’s Eye comes in three colours – gold, red, and blue. The gold is used for creativity, prosperity, and balance. The blue is used for intuition, emotional balance, and peace. The red is all about vitality, confidence, and energy.

Some Everyday Cat Magick

Cats have a natural connection to the moon, mystery, and magick. As such working with a cat or familiar can be incredibly rewarding and can boost your magick. Working magick with your cat necessitates a certain closeness between the two of you.

First, work on being able to call your cat easily. Visualize your companion coming toward you, and then speak its name. No need to shout. Once you reach the relationship of witch and familiar, your cat should know when it’s needed for magickal work.

Next you need to be able to get a little physical with your cat. Gently holding and petting your cat calms and relaxes the both of you, but also raises energy. This is a metaphysical energy, but also an electrical charge! When the air is dry you can see the electricity coming off of your cat and you might generate some shocks if you pet them too long.

Now that your cat is in the right place and frame of mind gently and simply ask for assistance and let the cat know what you’re up to. True cat ladies always talk to their cats, don’t pretend that you don’t! Be straight and quick with it, and do your spell right away. Afterwards close up the spell and remember to thank your cat. Maybe come up with a special treat just for after ritual.

Of course, a true partnership involves give and take on both sides, so you should try and use magick to improve the life of your friend as well!

Start off simply by blessing or enchanting their food and treats before giving it to them. Call on any of the above goddesses or just charge the food with positive energy. Send energy for healing, happiness, and even magick into the food. Infuse their treats with feelings of love or gratitude before handing it over.

When you bring home a new cat do a small ritual and bless the cat and your relationship with a long and happy life.

If your cat is at the vet or recovering from illness you can do a small smell to encourage healing by lighting a white, pink, or green candle and either charging it with healing light or calling on Freya for help.

If the time comes to say goodbye to a beloved cat, you should do a ritual for parting and saying goodbye. Light a candle and burn incense made of rosemary for remembrance, basil for love and devotion, lavender for protection, and of course cat nip. Ask the cat goddesses to carry your pet into the afterlife and to take care of them. The Valkyries, under the watch of Freya, were charged with escorting warriors into Valhalla and so calling on them might be a nice symbol as well. You can also put these herbs and some crystals for cats into a small sachet and bury it with your cat, or ask the vet to include it in the cremation. If you’ve decided not to keep remains (or can’t afford it) many vets will agree to take a paw print of the cat before they put them down. Keep this on your altar and honour for familiar in rituals.

Choose a magickal name for your cat! Research names associated with cats or magick or different cat legends. You can even include a name ceremony when you welcome your new cat into ritual.

Finally, get a collar for your cat and decorate it with symbols of protection and magick! This can be painted right on, or can dangle as a decoration. Maybe find a small citrine point or a piece of amber. You could also make your own cat collar and infuse it with blessings, get a name tag printed with your cat’s magickal name or make up a rune/symbol/or sigil for your cat and have that stamped onto a tag!

No matter what kind of cat you find (or that find you!), they’ll bring magick, mystery, and love into your home and life. They’ll keep away negative entities and vibes, keep your home’s energy moving and changing, and of course… offer cuddles. I can’t imagine seeing any cat as bad luck, even on friday the 13th!

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