#the six dimensions of the physical world

[dogmalilith]

The shape of the Vav is a straight line that represents a person standing upright. It represents balance, consistency, and the middle path. Because it means "hook" and "and," it represents the power that links all souls together and the force of connection between the Divine "sparks" that permeate reality.

Other important sixes in Judaism include the six days of creation, the six dimensions of the physical world, the six orders of the Misha, the six points on a Jewish star, and the six cubit size of the Tablets of the covenant.

#MyJewishLearning

[cucumberteapot]

Okay, so I've read the Spider-man: Across the Spider-verse artbook, and there is this fantastic passage on Earth-42 that gives context to the dimension, Miles G., Uncle Aaron and the Sinister Six.

“Miles comes face to face with a parallel world version of his own in Earth-42 – an alternate reality where he never gained superpowers and where his Uncle Aaron is still alive. “We wanted to craft this moment where Miles encounters this powerful figure in his life that he loved so much and he lost," says director Justin K. Thompson. “That's when he realizes that he is not really in his own dimension, as well as the gravity of what he has lost. In this reality, Aaron has had to shake off his life of crime and became a surrogate father figure to Miles.”

The artists changed Uncle Aaron's outward appearance to reflect this new reality and convey how he has changed. The Uncle Aaron of Earth-42 has a little gray in his beard. His clothing still has the old “cool streetwear” vibe, but he has a more sophisticated and older look. In this alternate reality, the Sinister Six have been able to flourish and take over the world. “We wanted to create a world where it felt like Aaron and Miles G. Morales [this reality counterpart to Miles Morales] are the only heroes.”

It's a much darker version of Miles' original home. So, we looked at comic book artists who epitomized that sort of noirish world - artists like Frank Miller, Sean Gordon Murphy, John Polygon, where there is heavy use of black and colors sort of recede behind the dark shadows. The powerless version of Miles is still capable and efficient and has great acrobatic and physical prowess. We also needed Miles to feel trapped in this dark world. We wanted to leave the audience with the burning question: ‘How is he going to get home?’ It was just exciting to see the development of this world to underscore all of these narrative choices we were making.”

[sunderwight]

thinking more about a scenario where Bingge's world is just, fundamentally unstable.

because the System mostly created him for the punishment protocol. before that he actually only did exist as a book character, and the "real" PIDW world was the SVSSS world. but then after manifesting Bingge the System created a reality where he did exist, except it doesn't have the same degree of substance or cohesiveness as the SV world. plus, it has all the narrative asspulls Airplane was increasingly worse about as his writing devolved, and all of the contrivances and plotholes that never made it into the SV world and subsequently never threw anything out of alignment either. the SV world was built from Airplane's most stable creative phase, and went on and diverged from there. but Bingge's world was created from the final PIDW canon, which is a mess.

so it's just like... not at all stable. it's not just that Bingge himself is also a wildly unstable guy, his entire world reflects this in that it is a mess of interwoven contradictions that is constantly folding in on itself and collapsing in places. stuff like, in some chapters Airplane messed up and got certain wives confused, but he confused them consistently for big portions of the story. thereby completely muddying the waters of which wife actually had which backstory or personality. so there's this segment of Bingge's harem comprised of these eldritch abomination interchangeable women-shaped entities that have no true sense of individual self, instead constantly melting and merging into one another.

combining the realms would be the watsonian explanation for why Bingge's dimension is so fucked up, of course. but even if that hadn't been part of PIDW canon it would still be an intensely weird situation.

Bingmei lying awake at night, deeply disquieted because all he told his husband about his trip to the other world was that he woke up in a strange place with a lot of women, and unless he's got a good reason that's what he's gonna leave it at because that place was freakier than the Abyss and Shizun already gets upset just contemplating Binghe trapped there. also he isn't sure how to explain the concept of six overlapping skies and the labyrinthine palace that was many places in one and the spots where it seemed like reality just ended and opened in a great, yawning void that none of the other people around him even seemed to notice.

his very own cosmic horror misadventure that he's pretty sure is what would have become of the world if he hadn't met his husband. lol. he's just like, sure on an emotional level it would make sense that reality would lose all cohesion in that case, but he's also pretty sure it's not literally supposed to do that?

Bingmei trying really hard to figure out the potential impact of comphet on physics.

[goodusernamepending]

It is so fucked up how at the end of the magnus archives everyone on earth remembers the apocalypse

Like there just six months where everyone on earth was suddenly in a hell dimension specifically designed to torture them and then *poof* things were just back to normal and everything looks exactly the same except for one building that fell down in London. And there’s no explanation for it! No lingering proof either except the fact that everyone on earth also remembers it and that the dickwads who tortured you are still here!

Did people really go back to work? Because if that happened to me I’d just assume there was no economy anymore and start breaking shit

One minute you’re in a job interview, then you’re a flower made of meat being cut up, and then you’re back in your interview as if nothing happened but the interviewer is white as a sheet and whatever happened to you also happened to them. Then you find out that EVERYONE literally EVERYONE ON THE PLANET went through it too and you’re just supposed to go back to normal?

There would have been riots

There would be arguments of mass hallucination

Ironically there would be new cults

And then eventually there’s going to be a new generation who didn’t go through that and they’re just going to have to take everyone’s word for it that the world turned into a hell dimension for six months but then got better before they were born!

And time will move on

And without physical evidence future generations will just assume it never really happened and that it wasn’t real. There will be historians who dedicate their lives to figuring out what natural disaster/mass hysteria/world wide gas leak caused their ancestors to believe there was an apocalypse

That world is going to get so fucked up

[whereserpentswalk]

Choose a slightly diffrent version of our world to escape to

Weather you're transferring yourself to another dimension or you’re retroactively changing our world is a matter of perspective. Either way, only you will remember the change, and all your loved ones will still exist with as minimal a change to everyone's lives as possible. Transplaner security does not allow the finer details of this process to be understood by mortals.

1- ritual magic and deities are scientifically proven to exist. The exact details on it all are still ambiguous but people know for a fact that these things work and are true. Religious conflict is down, and it's a fact that there's something out there to answer your prayers.

2- the earth is flat and infinite. The seven continents we know are lit by the sun (which is small and goes out at night) which rotates over the equator (the north pole is the center of this map projection). But there are other suns beyond Antarctica, and 21st century civilization is working to contact these other continents. We will never be done expanding our trades routes and exploring for better or for worse.

3- dragons exist. They split off from a difftent fish than other land vertebrates hence the six limbs. There are all different kinds of dragons, living throughout the world. There's nothing magical about them, they just exist.

4- the six continents we know of with humans are just six islands in a vast ocean. Most of human history is the same or similar, just much higher density, thought the same cultures and civilizations developed. Because the population is the same human territory is a single massive city, using unquine technology to harvest food. What exists on the rest of the earth is just starting to be known.

5- necromancers exist as a valid field of art and science. Zombies, ghosts, vampires, liches, shades and other such creatures all exist as functioning members of society. Everyone accepts this as good and normal.

6- humans are capable of using willpower to change their physical sex after completing puberty. The process takes about six months to complete, and is mostly painless. Alongside swapping your sex it's also possible to mix and match traits or completely get rid of the traits of either sex. There is stigma around this, but it's slowly gaining more acceptance as time goes on. Body type and eye color can also be changed similarly, and how old you look is somewhat fluid based on your desires.

7- every rocky planet in our solar system and most large moons have sentient life. We are slowly making further and further contact with those civilizations.

8- the world is slightly more progressive on basically every issue. It's far from perfect but our world looks like an exacerbated parody of their world's political and social problems.

9- humans don't make contact when they mate, like fish or scorpians. Nobody has sex or desires sex in any way, and human bodies have a lot less sexual dimorphism. Gender is more fluid, sexual assault and harassment can't happen, and physical affection is way more common.

10- humans live longer (the oldest people are in their 900s) and resist illness much better. They have stronger mote athletic bodies, and have appearances that resemble closer what they individually think is pretty. They also need to sleep a lot less and have higher pain tolerance.

11- gender as a concept doesn't exist. People are biologically the same, they just don't have any social construct of male and female. People generally dress similarly to what we'd consider masculine, and he is the default pronoun, but feminine things aren't rejected, or even categorized as feminine. Relationships also aren't considered platonic romantic or family, people are just close to eachother and there's no special word for certain kind of close relationship that's different from others in a socially enforced way.

12- there's a whole new complex set of social constructs that didn't exist in the world you know. This is bad mabye.

Reblog to begin the transportation. Like to awake one of your freinds to the reality of the changes.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

I want to hold Stanford's hand so much, when I am sad, happy, joyous, love, sorrow, I want him to know how much it would mean to hold his hand. Do you think he would love someone needing him so much because of -pardon- a kink, or the fact a six fingered hand can fully encompass ones own?

ohhh sweetheart this is such an interesting question because it’s really about Ford’s relationship with intimacy and self-worth, i love it!

sorry again for long text, i feel lonely and wanna talk

anyways Ford's six fingers, his intelligence and his social struggles made him feel different so he believes that he is fundamentally not like other people. and this only got worse after the portal, Bill and thirty years spent in dimensions. so touch, closeness and physical connection were lost to him for decades

Ford is someone who doesn’t really know how to process love. like... he’s always been the kind of person who thinks with his brain first and feels with his heart second, which means when it comes to affection or closeness, he doesn’t exactly reach out first. he’s the kind of person who would need reassurance that it’s okay to need and want someone

so when someone wants to hold his hand, in every emotion, in every state of being, it overwhelms him because listen, Ford is not used to being wanted in that... simple way. sure he’s been admired, respected, envied mb, Bill was obsessed with him too. but loved in a way that asks for nothing except to be close to him? no

Ford doesn’t know how to accept it. physical affection that isn’t just practical or necessary? affection for the sake of affection? it’s foreign to him

his whole life, he has thought of his body as smth wrong (he still remembers the name of his bully from his childhood so bullying/outsider trauma never left him), six fingers and hands meant for equations and inventions, for gripping the handle of a gun or the edge of a dimension where he doesn’t belong

but ohh damn ur hands? at first, he wouldn’t know what to do with it. you reach for him in sadness, in happiness, in boredom, in comfort. you reach for him. him, the man who spent decades convinced that he was untouchable so maybe that’s the first thing that stuns him about it. how, despite the years he has spent thinking of his hands as too much, they feel RIGHT when wrapped around yours

you’re reaching for that extra finger and for Ford it's a reassurance that his imperfections are not just accepted, but desired

because he realises, like yeah this is real. you mean it. he has spent his whole life fighting to prove his worth, to be enough in the eyes of the world, but with you, he doesn’t have to prove anything. he just is. and that’s enough for you

soooo yes. yes, he would love it. holding hands does smth to him. smth he would never admit out loud. he wouldn’t always know how to say it, wouldn’t always know how to ask for it, but if you reached for his hand, he would always give it

and if he ever caught himself missing the weight of your hand in his, he would reach first

[misterbenzadrine]

hawkmetri headcanons !! (might keep adding on) (also a lot of this is me projecting on them)

demetri

queer/unlabeled

has adhd/add but not diagnosed

yaps and doesn't realize it's not always appropriate

raised by a single mom

his mom forced him to join soccer around six/seven years old but after he got hit in the face with the soccer ball all season and somehow got stuck in the goal net, she didn't push him to rejoin (or any other sport for that matter)

on that note, he seemed to get hit in the head a lot as a kid (softballs, kickballs, basketballs, volleyballs, soccer balls, etc.) so he definitely never picked up a sport before karate

some of his favorite characters include: hal jordan, the ninth doctor, obi-wan, padmé amadala, nyota uhura, and his fav pokemon is zubat

doesn't care for marvel and thinks dc shows are 100000000x better than marvel project BUT he does like reed richards and wanda maximoff (this doesn't mean he really cares to consume any marvel media, he just knows of them and likes their personalities)

became obsessed with watching the guild, dimension 20, and Rejected by don hertzfeldt on a loop fifth to seventh grade

really likes 1984 (the book and the movie)

listens to the beatles, the smiths, weird al, car seat headrest and weezer (not in an "i'm a loser" cool way, but in the most actual loser way possible) (it's just music his mom played when he was little) (he doesn't really care for music but he'll listen to it from time to time and think of her)

interested in physics, engineering, and robotics and MIT-BOUND BABYYYY

likes mel brooks movies (especially History of the World Part 1 and Spaceballs)

outside of hawk, he spends most of his time with sam, moon, and yas and is considered "one of the girls" (not that he particularly enjoys that title or the way the rest of the miyagi do guys make fun of him for it but he gets to spend all day with hot rich girls and they don't so joke's on them)

occasionally, tory and devon will join sam, moon, yas, and demetri for a girls' day. tory's not really enthusiastic but demetri notices that she does feel more included knowing she has friends outside of devon and robby. (she never remembers demetri's name though, he thought it was an ongoing bit but she genuinely doesn't seem to know who he is other than "the gangly kid that follows hawk around")

other than anthony and nate, demetri surprisingly has a great bond with devon. although she's closest with tory, she enjoys spending time with demetri and talking about debate structure and movies

the absolute gremlin that he is DEVOURS sour candy which definitely caused more than a few health problems in middle school but he still revels in whatever he can get his hands on

hawk

bisexual

autistic (got diagnosed right after his s4 buzzcut spiral and his mom thought a psychologist might help)

(i think this is like fanon atp but) his parents are rich and his dad is always away on business trips, leaving him alone with his mom more often than not

has a pretty short social battery and sometimes still slips back into pre-hawk eli who'd let demetri do all the talking

he likes being loud and social but he gets really tired after hangouts and takes long naps afterward (his whole time in cobra kai was exhausting and he's definitely grateful the miyagi do kids don't seem to mind when he goes a little nonverbal)

his parents tried to push him to join the other kids in public but he just wanted to stick by their side

his parents consistently tried to sign him up for things but he either never went bc he didn't want to or he was scared of getting made fun of

nighttime stress and sleep enuresis persisted up until around sophomore year (right about when he "flipped the script") and shut himself down any time his parents tried to talk to him about it (not even just nonverbal, bro straight up would ignore them and walk away)

didn't want to admit it but he really liked bo burnham starting around 13

some of his fav characters: bruce banner, han solo, padmé amadala, war doctor, the tenth doctor (also really likes the eighth doctor), his fav pokemon are serperior and glaceon

doesn't really know dc (he feels like the characters are overpowered and oversaturated) but LOVES jason todd and conner kent (literally watched Batman: The Killing Joke so many times that his dvd started scratching and he had to replace it) (he also loved Young Justice)

(got this from a fanfic but it was perfect) LOVED the dead poets society

(also from a fanfic) fav episode of dr who is "the girl in the fireplace" bc it reminds him of demetri

liked the thirteenth doctor but still prefers moffat's writing

tried drawing throughout middle school, mainly to draw out his blueprints and dnd oc's but it didn't really go anywhere

interested in biochemistry, engineering, and architecture but not entirely sure what he actually wants to do

also likes photography but more as a hobby, not as a career

listens to nirvana, kendrick lamar, and mac miller (tried getting into guns n roses, metallica, and poison when he first joined cobra kai but didn’t really like 80s rock) (definitely credits miguel for getting him into kendrick lamar) (occasionally listens to tyler the creator and frank ocean, esp after coming out)

has meltdowns and when he was younger his parents never knew how to handle them, usually waiting for him to calm down on his own (which usually only made him angrier and more lonely)

other than anthony and bert, he gets along pretty great with kenny, both bonding with robby over their mutual asshole history and understanding each other as bullied kids turned assholes. they help each other work on their anger and hawk gives kenny tips on new moves

hawkmetri !!

watched the star wars prequel trilogy RELIGIOUSLY at almost every sleepover when they were little (though they recognize they maybe aren't the best, they're nostalgic for the films)

watched the new trilogy together (the rise of skywalker coming out around or after the sekai taikai which set a little damper on things) and they lowkey wondered why finnpoe wasn't a thing (though they weren't avid shippers) and they HATED the reylo kiss

they did however both feel a little heart skip when ben defected from the dark side to defend rey (deja vuuuu)

demetri dragged eli along for his journey through "the greatest films in history" which included a viewing of La Jetée and Dead Poets Society (which eli liked way more than demetri did), and 1984 and Chinatown (which demetri liked a lot more than eli)

they also watched Rebel Without a Cause but neither really cared for it and didn't get the hype

when they first met, eli didn't want to leave his parents' side (for normal child separation anxiety) and they worried how he'd get adjusted in school with his anxiety and surgery scar but demetri marched right up to him, only focused on his inaccurate episode five luke skywalker shirt that used a photo from episode four before he had the facial scars from the wampa attack (which then devolved into demetri, unprompted, explaining the behind the scenes reason for the wampa attack)

much to his parents' surprise and delight, eli opened up to demetri and was okay with them leaving for the day (both eli's parents and demetri's mom were relieved they were both able to make a friend their first day of kinder and stick by each other’s side even when school got harder)

eli spent a while coding a website for him and demetri to organize their dnd campaigns (which only ever involved the two of them)

demetri spent a lot of their time apart (both through cobra kai and the mit fight) going through the website to pass the time rereading the plots to their games (and if he silently wondered where this version of his best friend went, he never said it aloud)

sometimes while building their lego models, coding (at coding camp or otherwise), or building robots for the robotics team, they play a mix of midwest emo, indie alt, rap, and rock (not that they particularly listen to it or like it, they just need something that’ll blend in the background)

eli really likes mario kart (which he played a lot with miguel and the original cobra kai team) but demetri prefers super smash bros (where he mains kirby and king deedee)

demetri was THIRLLED when eli became hyperfixated on jason todd and conner kent and hoped this would be his introduction to dc. he later realized eli didn't really hyperfixate on the characters in their entirety as much as just Batman: The Killing Joke and Young Justice specifically (he was a little disappointed but he still got him the Batman: The Killing Joke graphic novel for his bday which was a very treasured gift)

they actually made another embarrassing binary bros video after the first one (just talking about something they coded together for like ten minutes) but hawk deleted it bc it was too embarrassing and he was mad at demetri at the time (he doesn't know demetri kept it on a flash drive)

they both had huge crushes on padmé amadala (a big motivator for watching the prequel trilogy so often)

star wars is so intrinsic to their relationship actually and every time they rewatch, obi-wan and c-3po remind hawk of demetri and luke skywalker and poe remind demetri of hawk

demetri mandated "rehabilitation-community service" for hawk to earn his trust back (they both knew demetri forgave him at the dec 19th fight but hawk went along with it bc he really did want to make it up to demetri and didn't want to waste any second he could spend with his best friend) in which he was "forced" to watch nerd stuff with demetri, including Lord of the Rings, Star Wars episodes 1-6, Doctor Who season 11, Batman: The Killing Joke, and Spaceballs (he makes sure to make an extra scene of the batman movie: "I know you HATE DC, but this one is OKAY. If you don't like it, we can just skip it. Matter of fact, you'll probably hate it. Let me just put on Justice League, WAY BETTER DC project if you ask me. You'll love it.") (eli knows demetri's messing around but he hopes he never forgets what he loves and who he is again so demetri never has to wonder where his best friend went again)

demetri wasn't the PERFECT solution to hawk's meltdowns but he did seem to have a sixth sense for when they were imminent and what hawk was feeling (and never really brought it up after the fact so as to not embarrass his best friend)

kid demetri usually tried talking him through his frustration then would try to make him laugh once he'd calmed down (which hawk GREATLY appreciated as a kid and as an adult bc demetri seemed to actually listen to his feelings and what he wanted)

teen/adult demetri is apparently more emotionally mature and has breathing exercises with hawk and tries to have a full conversation once the worst of the meltdown has passed (hawk thinks it's a little bullshit but he goes along anyways and it works every time) (demetri obviously learned this from sam, yas, and moon)

they both get along really well with anthony, much to everyone's surprise. with kenny, the four of them talk about dungeon lord, play super smash bros, and the two older teens even try to talk the younger ones into joining a dnd campaign with them

there's one day when miyagi do is training/hanging out at the park and somehow demetri and kenny agree to race each other. kenny narrowly wins and demetri argues that if they had raced when he was the same age as kenny, he would've been faster ("I was more aerodynamic then, I was a stringbean, of course I could run faster! This is ageism, it's not fair I'm one foot in the grave, he's still young and spry! No, I will not stop making a scene, Eli, you remember how fast I was at the mall, this is injustice!")

growing up, demetri definitely had a "i won't do that if there's a chance of it ending terribly" mentality (very pessimistic and stubborn) which kept him and hawk from trying a lot of things. this is why hawk was so surprised to catch up with his best friend before their senior year and find out how much he actually changed. ("Dude, what do you MEAN you went hiking with Miguel and the LaRussos? And you didn’t complain about mountain lions or falling rocks the whole time?" "Yeah, it's wasn't as bad as the time Yasmine tried to teach me how to surf." "...You went SURFING?")

hawk definitely feels a little possessive of demetri, as embarrassing as it sounds. he prefers to think of it as gatekeeping, since he knew how great he was before his lanky best friend suddenly got incredibly popular and has "i liked demetri alexopoulos BEFORE he was cool" written all over his face

despite this however, he's also really grateful for their whole group that protected and pulled demetri from his shell while hawk was in cobra kai (yes even robert patrick swayze keene, the smug bastard who definitely filled hawk's spot next to demetri during film nights)

hawk warns everyone to keep any sour candy away from demetri for his own health and their own sanity (think cat from victorious with bibble)

while demetri has dungeon lord comics in his reading rotation, hawk, kenny, and anthony only casually read, more often than not just stealing demetri's comics while they're over and quickly flipping through the pages. (demetri's only slightly annoyed that they dare to treat him like their supplier then act like they're not as big of dungeon lord nerds as him) (he never mentions it, lest the kid kick his ass or get embarrassed and avoid him, but demetri knows about kenny's dr. scribblebottoms cosplay and thinks it's unfair THAT isn't proof enough that he's just as big a nerd as demetri)

"Still Into You", "All I Wanted", and "The Only Exception" is so hawkmetri-coded

[tibbycaps]

wait can u like sum up hollowbrook hideaway's story so far but still in like an analytical way cz im so interested but i gotta know more

ok i reccomend going thru my posts that ive tagged with #hh for all the art and yapping and stuff, but heres like the simplest summary i can do

setting is the town of hollowbrook, Illinois in 2009. quiet smallish town thats known for some local legends about cryptids in the woods or whateva. four guys meet one fateful night in the woods after being led there by a shapeshifting rabbit/harengon named Artemis. she explains to them that she is from a magic dimension called the Hideaway and needs their help in keeping magical creatures and monsters from disturbing the town, as they sometimes are able to slip through the portals connecting their worlds.

edie (the divine, played by bax) is an upbeat and cheerful guy who lives in a mobile home in the woods and recently has discovered that he has a magic tamagotchi that tells her to fight monsters, and can transform a toy wand that she owns into a giant magic hammer

vera (the spooky, played by bumbles) is a quiet and reserved college student who suffers from a mysterious curse that gives them powers and strange, violent urges that they can surpress, but it takes a physical toll on their wellbeing

bill (the monstrous, played by phil) is a polite and seemingly normal guy who just moved here! something about him is a little off but who’s to say! (bill is a monster disguised as a human but the party doesn’t know this yet)

kyle (the expert, played by me) has lived in Hollowbrook his entire life, and knows the woods like the back of his hand. six months before the campaign began, his younger brother liam went missing in the woods, taken before his very eyes in some magical phenomenon. no one in the town believes him, and he spirals down a path of anger and paranoia and determination to find his brother & bring him home.

we’ve had 11 sessions so far, and the gang has been solving mysteries around the town, learning a bit about each other and visiting the Hideaway library to learn more about the magic world ^_^ and nothing bad will happen to them!

[roboticchibitan]

Something I really like about the Apothecary Diaries, especially the light novel cuz it's more obvious, is that the characters have real life problems.

I have dysgraphia and it's mentioned in volume six that Pairin, the courtesan who's like a mother to Maomao, sometimes writes her characters backwards and no amount if practice fixes it. That's dysgraphia!! And consort Lishu has deadly allergies and a lot of less than deadly allergies. An unnamed consort in volume six has seasonal allergies.

Maomao is clearly autistic (this is more obvious in the light novel) and I interpret her as ace because she can identify that Jinshi is gorgeous but it does absolutely nothing for her, which I as an ace person find entirely relatable.

Lakan has faceblindness (somewhat common in autistic people, I have a mild case of it) and it's treated as a disability he has to overcome. And Loumen and Chou-u are physically disabled.

Like! Those are real disabilities or real brain or sexuality things that real people have! They have depth! Their lives aren't perfect! I think that's really great and adds dimension to the world

[cumironi]

Satomi Gojo :

— A Detailed Character Description

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE :

Satomi Gojo is a striking and enigmatic presence, her appearance marked by both beauty and a haunting uniqueness. Like her older brother, Satoru, she possesses the same mesmerizing blue eyes indicative of the powerful Six Eyes technique. However, her left eye is blind, a hollow white that starkly contrasts with the vibrant blue of her right eye. This blind eye is a constant reminder of the trauma and abuse she endured at the hands of the Gojo clan, symbolized further by a prominent scar encircling it.

Adding to her mystique, Satomi's functional right eye occasionally manifests on her left palm, endowed with the same Six Eyes power. This phenomenon, while granting her unique capabilities, has further isolated her within the clan, marking her as both a prodigy and an outcast.

Her long, white hair cascades down her back in soft, silken waves, matching Satoru's distinctive hair color. It often falls over her left eye, partially concealing the scar and the eye itself from casual observers, adding an air of mystery to her appearance.

PERSONALITY :

Satomi is a complex and resilient young woman, her character forged in the crucible of hardship and adversity. Her experiences with abuse and harsh treatment from the Gojo clan have instilled in her a strong and unyielding spirit. She carries herself with a quiet confidence, her demeanor calm and composed, much like her brother's. However, beneath this exterior lies a reservoir of deep-seated emotions—pain, anger, and a fierce determination to prove herself.

She is fiercely loyal to those she cares about, especially her brother Satoru, whom she admires and respects deeply. Despite her hardships, she possesses a compassionate heart, always willing to help those in need and fight against injustice. Her kindness is tempered with a pragmatic understanding of the harsh realities of the world they inhabit.

ABILITIES :

Satomi shares the same powerful abilities as her brother, Satoru, inheriting the Six Eyes and the Limitless Cursed Technique. These abilities make her a formidable sorcerer, capable of extraordinary feats of power and precision. The unique manifestation of her right eye on her left palm grants her a distinct edge and versatility in combat.

Her mastery of the Limitless Cursed Technique allows her to manipulate space at will, creating barriers, teleporting, and distorting reality around her. This makes her a formidable opponent in battle, feared and respected by both allies and enemies.

UNIQUE CONNECTION TO SUKUNA :

Satomi's soul is mysteriously tied to Sukuna's, adding another layer of complexity to her already intricate abilities. When she shares DNA with Sukuna—through a kiss or any form of intimacy—her blue eyes turn into a deep red, and Sukuna's distinctive markings appear on her body, similar to how they manifest on Yuji Itadori.

During these moments, she gains the ability to use Sukuna's techniques and power, the duration and extent of which depend on how long they share the DNA. This connection not only amplifies her strength but also ties her fate closely to that of the King of Curses, adding a perilous dimension to her existence.

BACKGROUND :

Satomi's past is marked by struggle and perseverance. Born into the powerful Gojo clan, she was immediately seen as both a blessing and a curse due to her unique abilities and the blind left eye. The clan's harsh treatment and abuse were intended to mold her into a weapon, but it only served to strengthen her resolve to carve her own path.

Her relationship with Satoru is one of mutual respect and deep familial love. He has always been her protector and mentor, guiding her through the complexities of their abilities and the dangerous world of jujutsu sorcery. Despite the clan's attempts to control and break her, Satomi has emerged as a strong, independent sorcerer, determined to forge her destiny.

ACADEMIC AND ROLE AT JUJUTSU HIGH

Now in her second year at Jujutsu High, Satomi is recognized for her exceptional skills and potential. She is dedicated to her training, constantly honing her abilities under the watchful eye of her brother and other experienced sorcerers. Her presence at the school is both an inspiration and a source of intrigue, as her unique abilities and mysterious past draw the attention and curiosity of her peers.

Summary

Satomi Gojo is a multifaceted character marked by strength and vulnerability. Her evolution from a child subjected to abuse to a confident and skilled sorcerer showcases her resilience and determination. The deep bond she shares with her brother, Satoru, is central to her character, providing her with the love and support she needs to overcome her past and thrive at Jujutsu High.

HOME | CHAPTER 1. THE HIDDEN CURSE

[zarnzarn]

"Repeat that," Dream says, gliding into the booth silently. Everyone goes still, like prey, backs stiff and eyes wary. "An omega who...?"

For all their bluster about being the strongest of humanity, not one of them replies for a long while. Dream waits, patiently.

"Who has not been mate-caught in six hundred years," Someone finally says. Dream raises an eyebrow. They crumple. "Yeah, he's human. No one knows his deal, he only ever tells anyone he's decided to never be caught and never was."

Dream hums. Another joke of his sister's, then. She did so enjoy making all the immortality seekers lose their mind by granting it to random people once in a while.

Still, he's intrigued that this one's mind never came to his notice with the way the dreams of all overlong lifespans eventually buckle under the strain.

"Show me," He commands. There's a collective intake of breath, and pained eyes darting at each other. His brows furrow, and he skims their minds- swirls of panic over betrayal of a friend, daymares of an Endless breaking in what the whole world considers an unbreakable man, plans to extract the omega before the run started.

Dream barely holds back a roll of the eyes. As if an omega from the 1300s did not live through the sweet origin and dark horror of the Mating Runs both.

"Hob Gadling," He murmurs, pulling the name onto his tongue as he turns to leave. Many dream of him, across the globe, of both inflicting violence and taming him with affection, and hopeful daydreams of youngsters wanting to be him, or be his friend. Many have written and spoken his name through the ages, and many have been close to him, until Dream can almost pluck the golden-hued outline of him from the air.

He ignores the yelling from the League of Justice as he sweeps away to the entrance of the starting line, ignoring the way people gasp and scatter out of his way as he scouts them, fear in their eyes.

He turns a corner, wondering idly if he should tuck the League and their associates into a dimension for a bit while he assagues his curiousity as they yell panickedly at him and try to lead him away without touching him in any way.

"What's all the commotion?" A voice cuts through, familiar vibrations from the memories Dream has just pulled on, and he turns.

Everything stops. Dream feels the outfit he'd worn 672 years ago coalasce onto his skin, complete with the crown. "Oh," He manages.

"It's you," Hob Gadling says, with a note of wonder in his voice. He barks a laugh. "You bastard, you never did show up those hundred years later!"

"Hob!" The Amazon princess hisses in fear, jogging forward to take his elbow and whisper in his ear. "That is the Nightmare King! For once, I beg you, be respectful, he is more powerful-"

"I'll admit, I had not imagined you would have survived even to that," Dream murmurs, the stadium falling silent as they realise he's there and actually speaking for once. He has not indulged in the habit since the failed summoning, much. "I only heard of you seventy seconds ago, as the omega running the Mate Runs for over six hundred years."

Hob clicks his tongue chidingly, shaking his head mockingly. "Well, even I cannot forgive a friend five hundred years late to a meeting." And then he looks at Dream, tilting his head as he seems to see right through to the core of him, lips splitting into a wicked grin. "Unless, of course, you're here to try and take a bite."

Dream's breath catches in his chest, sand swirling to life around his body as he meets determined brown eyes, blazing with passion and mania.

The princess breaks out into scolding as she physically tries to drag Hob away, her associates and other strangers around joining her, trying to distract Dream and keep him from Hob.

He licks his lips, feeling the horrors that make up half of him banging to be let out.

There are so many watching.

He shouldn't. He knows how this ends.

Hob still stares back at him with a proud smile and no fear and his restraint snaps.

"Do you think you can escape an Endless?" Dream purrs, stepping forward. "Do you think that I am not every inch your worst nightmares? That I not would be barbaric enough to discard your species' silly custom for the new obsession it is and throw you down to the floor and have you right now, in front of everyone, in the old ways I know you still remember? That I would not win your challenge immediately, if I participate, and have you by your own rules instead?"

Hob chuckles, stepping forward to meet him in return, even as despair coats those around them as they watch their foremost omega champion sign away his fate in a fit of stupidity. He surveys Dream head to toe, body language nothing but interested as he twists his neck and wrists, getting closer. A roar is building in Dream's chest, fire licking up his throat to the back of his teeth, as Hob slowly brings his hands up.

And shoves Dream to the ground.

"If you want to actually prove yourself, you'll be human for the race," Hob says casually, crouching down on his heels to Dream's level. And he meets Dream's eyes levelly, and Dream knows he remembers why the Runs were made, how do many alphas and omegas who fell in love before would tear each other apart in their passions, hair-trigger temperaments disastrous for pairings until tired out in advance. Which is why humans all should have formed socially acceptable triad relationships, but it's not Dream's job to correct a species' stupidity to ignore their own evolution. "You're down in the mud, like any of us, see?"

And he has other problems.

Hob smirks, dark-eyed and sharp-toothed.

"And if you want me," Hob continues lowly, arousal painting his tone. Dream pulls enough from the memory-river to know this is extremely erratic behaviour for him, and cannot bank the smoke in his lungs and trembling in his claws at the idea of this omega's craziness being just for him. "Too fucking bad. So did a lot of beings, Nightmare King. Even your sister couldn't catch me. What makes you any different?"

With that, Hob rises to his feet and walks away. Dream's mouth falls open in offense, even as his lips are still upturned in excitement, sparking a chain-reaction of tittering fear in all the people standing around him.

Oh, this one. This one would do nicely.

"Hob!" He calls, dissolving his robe for a set of looser running clothes, smirking as he watches the other's fingers twitch as he catches sight of the accepted invitation. Dream can catch him. He remembers, after all, the long history of this event and what alphas of today so easily have discarded as a stupid ritual.

And exactly how Hob dreams to be romanced.

"Would you accept my courtship?" Dream breathes, pushing himself into the other's space and holding out a small flower from the bush behind Hob's house that his parents had carefully planted when they finally stopped travelling, tied in the ribbon that Dream had absent-mindedly absconded with from the White Horse that had once stood where they stood now. "To know you and yours, to have your claws in my flesh, to forgive my transgressions?"

"In your dreams," Hob laughs, even as he bends to Dream's fingers and lets the flower be tucked behind his ear, clever eyes sparking with mirth. Dream's lips twitch.

Hob straightens up and studies him, a hint of seriousness this time. "Only if you catch me," He says finally, and Dream's newly made heart skips a beat. "Which you won't."

"We'll see," Dream promises. Hob smiles and leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, light as snow. Grabs him by the neck and throws him to the ground again, and Dream is already laughing as he hits the floor.

"READY!" The announcer yells as Dream walks over to the starting line, alphas scattering out his way with yelps as he makes his way to the front.

"SET!" People are still screaming protests.

Hob looks back at him, unconcerned, and grins. Dream smirks back.

"GO!"

[gerrystamour]

suspended in the ether, till i felt you in my chest [chapter one]

Written for: Lex's Summer Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge Prompt: "Can I braid your hair?"

Explicit | Steddie | In Progress

So, Eddie would say yes as blandly as possible and Steve would get a little smirk on his lips and do whatever it was that he asked to do, and then Eddie would feel flustered, off-kilter and set adrift. It always felt like a test or a challenge and Eddie had no idea if he passed. Knowing his track record with tests, Eddie was pretty sure he didn’t. And now Eddie was sweating his entire dick off and struggling to keep the sweaty, frizzy mop that was his hair off of his neck, and Steve was asking to play with it. Well, not play with it, but braid it. That was an important distinction to make, because playing with Eddie’s hair would imply some level of intimacy that was decidedly not platonic, right? This is my first fill for @thefreakandthehair Summer Spicy Six Fanworks Challenge! I hope you all enjoy!

[ READ ON AO3 ]

chapter one: we are broken bodies bound for each other

“Can I braid your hair?”

Eddie blinked over at Steve, eyebrows high on his sweaty forehead while he held his hair up off the back of his neck. He could swear he felt heat pouring out of his head. Steve was strarfishing in the center of Eddie’s bed in just his boxers and a t-shirt while Eddie perched on top of the desk under his window, having a smoke and pretending he could feel a breeze coming in.

Summer had descended on Hawkins with a vengeance, as if in retaliation for the brief handful of weeks in the Spring when the portals to a frigid hell dimension opened up and attempted to take over their world. Granted, summers in Hawkins tended to be hotter than Satan’s taint, especially around the Fourth of July, but Eddie figured he was allowed to be noisy and bitchy about it if he wanted.

He'd almost died—first at the hands of a town full of angry, scared hicks, then by a swarm of demobats—and this was his first summer officially free of Hawkins High, the other frigid hell dimension in that shitty town. If Eddie had to spend the summer in the sweaty armpit of America because of dumb bullshit like “recovery” and “physical therapy” and “being under observation,” he was going to bitch and moan and throw all the tantrums he wanted.

It helped that all the stupid bullshit (like recovery, and physical therapy, and being under observation) meant that Eddie got to spend a lot of time with Steve outside of the apocalypse. They were both lucky enough to be Under Observation together, courtesy of both of them being the favoured chew toys for the demobats. From there, Steve just started staying close to Eddie, taking him to and from physical therapy, helping him with his exercises at home, coming over when Eddie was in too much pain to get up to use the bathroom, let alone get up and locate painkillers and take them.

It had been a while since Steve had to help him on a particularly bad pain day, at least one that extreme, but Steve still came over almost daily. Usually, they would just hang out and eat junk food, smoke a bit of pot sometimes; watch whatever movie Steve brought over from work. Sometimes, Steve would suggest they go for a drive and they would do just that, make like they would leave completely.

“We could get out of here, never look back.” Worded like a comment, spoken like an oath.

“You wanna run away with me, Stevie?” Tone teasing but lined with a hollow desperation.

The air in the Beemer would change as the question sat heavily in the space between them and Eddie was held in suspense, waiting for Steve to say or do anything. Most of the time, he wouldn’t hear an answer from Steve over the sound of the wind through the open windows and, like the coward he was, Eddie was too afraid to look at him after asking.

Sometimes, though, he would hear, “Of course I do, Eds.” Soft, teasing, possibly even sweet. Eddie’s delusional ass always liked to imagine it sounded as lovestruck as he felt.

Regardless of whether Steve answered or not, they would just drive, next stop anywhere big enough to disappear into with nothing but the clothes on their backs and whatever cash they had on them. Sometimes, they would be talking, usually about stupid shit that turned into rowdy, playful arguments, but most of the time they were quiet. Just letting the music play while they played at running away from Hawkins, a tension building between them that Eddie could almost feel, like the lowest tone on a bass guitar.

The furthest they’d ever gotten outside of Hawkins before one of them chickened out was two hours. Well, the furthest they’d ever gotten before Eddie chickened out.

Eddie hated to admit that he was always the first one to back down, thinking about Wayne back at home wondering and worrying about Eddie again. He would think about how Wayne would take Eddie just skipping town, not even saying goodbye or giving him any warning, after everything they had gone through. 

And really, what would they even do if they left suddenly and unceremoniously like that? Especially the two of them?

Sure, they were friends now, Eddie felt secure enough in what they had going on to say that much was true, but that was tentative at best. He was still Eddie “The Freak” Munson, and Steve was still Steve. It was only a matter of time before he found out just how much of a freak Eddie was and ended everything. Eddie was pretty sure Steve wouldn’t hurt him, but still…

They couldn’t run away with each other because then Eddie would have nothing to fall back on once Steve found out. Not just about what team Eddie was batting for or whatever the stupid sports metaphor was, but the specific person he was stuck on. Even if Steve was okay with him being gay… the whole reason Eddie even had to move to Hawkins just before he turned thirteen was because he was an idiot and told a friend about his crush on him. Of course, his dad found out after the boy and their other friends beat Eddie up, and that obviously ended with him being shipped to Indiana to live with his uncle. But the key detail was that the kid knew Eddie was gay and told him it was okay, that he was fine with that. Eddie never wanted to take that chance again.

They had just returned to his trailer from yet another game of Escape Chicken. It had taken a bit longer than usual for Steve to respond when Eddie had suggested turning around this time, long enough for Eddie to turn and look at him. There was something intense in Steve’s expression, and Eddie couldn’t help the way his eyes traced the flex of Steve’s arms as he wrung the steering wheel briefly. For an exhilarating moment, Eddie had thought Steve would ignore him and keep going.

Then Steve looked over at Eddie with his brightest, stupidest, goofiest grin that never failed to make Eddie’s stomach do somersaults, and then turned the car around. The drive back to Hawkins was always light, with Steve turning up his shitty music and singing along to the dumb love songs, batting his long, pretty eyelashes at him whenever Steve caught him watching.

But this time Eddie was having a hard time shaking off that moment just before Steve turned around. That moment where it really felt like Steve wasn’t going to stop, and if it hadn’t been for Eddie sitting there asking to go back home, Steve probably wouldn’t have. How long did Eddie have before Steve disappeared, with or without him?

“Eds?”

Steve’s voice brought Eddie out of his spinning thoughts and back to the matter at hand, which honestly wasn’t much better for Eddie’s constitution.

Because the matter at hand was Steve starting their other game of chicken, the one that Eddie wasn’t sure who was winning or losing , if either of them even were because maybe it wasn’t even a game like the one in the car.

It still kind of felt like Eddie was the first one to flinch every time, though.

This round was always started by Steve, with him offering some sort of physical attention, and Eddie wanted to say no— knew that he should say no— but he was always, always too weak.

How could he be expected to turn down the opportunity to have his fucking crush touch him, no matter how chaste? Sure, he felt like a fucking creep saying something innocent and nonchalant— “Sure, man. Knock yourself out.”— while knowing that his thoughts were anything but. Sure, it felt like taking advantage when Steve would get close enough that Eddie could smell what remained of his cologne through the musk of his sweat. But there was really only so much Eddie could withstand; he already turned down running away into the sunset with Steve, the least he could allow himself was whatever platonic scraps of physical affection the man would offer him.

Obviously, Eddie never initiated this little game, even before he realized how he felt about Steve. Being a queer alone made Eddie’s acceptance of Steve’s touches risky enough, and once he figured out how he felt about him? It was stupid that he kept letting it happen, but at least he never started it. Plausible deniability and all that.

Stupid and pathetic as it was, he would take what he could get for as long as possible.

So, Eddie would say yes as blandly as possible and Steve would get a little smirk on his lips and do whatever it was that he asked to do, and then Eddie would feel flustered, off-kilter and set adrift. It always felt like a test or a challenge and Eddie had no idea if he passed.

Knowing his track record with tests, Eddie was pretty sure he didn’t.

And now Eddie was sweating his entire dick off and struggling to keep the sweaty, frizzy mop that was his hair off of his neck, and Steve was asking to play with it. Well, not play with it, but braid it. That was an important distinction to make, because playing with Eddie’s hair would imply some level of intimacy that was decidedly not platonic, right?

The real issue was that he just needed to tie his hair up, but Eddie couldn’t find any of the silk ties that Jeff’s mom had given him after helping him cut an elastic band out of his hair during his second senior year. His hair was even curlier with the sweat and humidity, which made it way too unruly to risk a ponytail or bun with a normal tie. Of course, braiding it solved all of that, didn’t it?

“Dude, what?” Eddie asked dumbly as he snuffed out his cigarette in the ashtray by his knee, trying to stall a bit before he gave his inevitable consent to have Steve’s hands on him in a strictly platonic manner.

“Your hair— do you want help with it? I can braid it for you, get it off your neck,” Steve offered again, sitting up on Eddie’s bed and gesturing at him. He was sweaty too, his shirt soaked through and his face red from the heat. Somehow, Steve’s hair was still gorgeous, in spite of the sweat dripping from his hairline and the muggy, oppressive air around them.

“You know how to braid hair?” Eddie asked rather than give Steve a response to his offer, raising an eyebrow at him. It wasn’t like Eddie actually doubted Steve’s abilities; he hadn’t doubted Steve since he jumped into a haunted fucking lake without hesitation.

Steve rolled his eyes with a put-upon sigh. “I used to braid Carol’s hair all the time,” he answered, and that piqued some of Eddie’s interest since Steve didn’t mention his friendship with Carol or Tommy H very often these days. “I stayed in practice helping Max when she’d let me before everything. C’mon, you’ve been bitching and moaning since we got back, and it stopped being cute, like, an hour ago.”

“Aw, Stevie, you think I’m cute?” Eddie teased with an exaggerated flutter of his eyelashes, managing to keep from grimacing outwardly as his mouth got away from him.

Something passed over Steve’s face and Eddie couldn’t place the expression, and it didn’t help that it was gone as quickly as it appeared. If he had to name the look, Eddie would have called it sad, but that didn’t make sense. Eddie didn’t say anything that could have hurt Steve’s feelings, so he couldn’t be sad. But what else could that expression have been?

“Last time I’m offering, Eds. Do you want help or not?” Steve asked with another bitchy eye-roll that Eddie couldn’t help but snort at.

“Alright, Stevie, have at’er,” Eddie said as nonchalantly as possible, gesturing grandly at his frizzy mane. “I mean, good luck, I guess.”

“It’ll be easier if your hair’s wet,” Steve said simply, getting up off the bed and stretching with a groan.

His t-shirt, soaked with sweat and sticking to Steve’s skin, rode up with the motion and showed off a freckled and scarred strip of Steve’s midriff. Eddie wanted to lick the skin that was revealed, taste the salt of Steve’s sweat, make his own marks and leave it shiny with his spit. When Steve lowered his arms, the shirt stayed lifted where it was stuck to his skin.

Eddie quickly diverted his gaze as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, of course. Should I get like a bowl? Or we might have a spray bottle kicking around,” Eddie said thoughtfully, rubbing the back of his neck. He jumped when Steve let out a loud bark of laughter.

“Or, I was thinking you could just hop into your shower real quick?” Steve suggested, crowding his space just enough that Eddie could practically taste the salt of his sweat. It was unreal just how much Eddie was obsessed with Steve’s fucking scent, just the smell of clean skin, sweat, and cologne. It never failed to fill Eddie’s head with thoughts of how he’d smell during other activities.

That thought alone had Eddie jolting back with a nervous laugh that came out too loud to pass off as casual. Oh well, he’d just roll with it. “Right! Of course, shower. You’re right,” Eddie said with another loud laugh, giving himself a self-deprecating eye-roll.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest with a little smirk. “Make sure you use that new shampoo I got you, and the conditioner—”

“Yep, got it, Stevie,” Eddie interrupted quickly, his heart skipping a beat at remembering the gifted haircare products that Steve had seemed almost nervous about giving to him. It had been a lot, and Eddie knew it had cost a lot, but Steve insisted he have all of it.

“I mean that leave-in stuff, the mask—” Steve started again, following him out of the room, and Eddie paused in the hallway to raise an eyebrow at him.

“You wanna join me? Just to make sure I wash my hair properly?” Eddie asked blandly, and he was legitimately impressed that he was able to deliver that line so smoothly. The thought of Steve joining him in an enclosed space while naked was something Eddie usually only indulged in when he was alone and in his bed.

The comment had Steve stopping in his tracks, his mouth clicking shut as he glanced away from Eddie. It was… not unexpected, necessarily, but it also wasn’t the scoff and eye-roll Eddie’s smartass comments usually garnered. Fear gripped Eddie as he realized he might have fucked up, that he said too much and all the rumors from high school clicked into place.

“Welp! I’ll be right back,” Eddie said, too quick and too loud, before spinning on a heel and disappearing into the small bathroom of the trailer. Hopefully, he could figure out a good excuse for inviting his friend into the shower with him with minimal freaking out.

Steve wasn’t sure just how long he stood outside the bathroom door just listening to the water running while his brain came back online after Eddie’s comment.

The thought of joining Eddie in the tiny stall had Steve’s head full of heat and static, and a very large part of himself was tempted to say, “screw it” and do just that. It was easy to imagine it, crowding Eddie against the wall and slotting their hips together, getting each other off in a frantic, hungry frenzy. Without really meaning to, Steve’s thoughts wandered further, his daydream shifting to imagine Eddie on his knees, his smart mouth occupied while Steve buried his hands in those curls he was obsessed with. Then his mind supplied him a very vivid fantasy of his cock sinking into a different tight heat—

Sucking in a sharp inhale, Steve shook his head and quickly went back to Eddie’s room. He couldn’t just stand there in the middle of the Munson trailer getting a hard-on while listening to Eddie shower. There had to be something to do with manners or whatever. And as much as he wanted to go into that bathroom—he was invited, right?—he wouldn’t because he was working really hard on giving Eddie the space he needed, waiting for Eddie to finally act on what they both felt.

Because they both felt it, right? Steve definitely thought so most of the time, with all of Eddie’s shy smiles and delighted giggles whenever Steve made a joke, or the way he would lean into Steve’s hands when he’d accept a massage, or the way those big brown eyes would watch Steve’s mouth sometimes rather than meet his gaze while he talked. But then, when Eddie would deliver his flirtatious little lines, they would come out flat, sarcastic almost. Some sort of tone that was so deliberately uncaring, it threw Steve off completely.

What did it mean when someone so animated and vibrant turned so flat? Was that just how Eddie flirted? Part of him was convinced that was the case, and Steve just had to get used to Eddie’s style, because he knew how Eddie felt, had known at least somewhat for months now.

Steve found out back when Eddie had just barely woken up from his coma and was so high on pain medications, it was doubtful he really registered that he had company, let alone what he was saying to them. It made for some really funny moments that had Steve wishing he had some way to record them.

Then one day, Steve had been helping Wayne while he practiced redressing Eddie’s healing injuries. Mostly, Steve’s job was to keep Eddie sitting up and make sure his hands stayed put and didn’t get in his uncle’s way. When the bandages were pulled away from the stitched-together skin of his midriff, Eddie looked down with an exaggerated grimace.

“What the fuck, I lost three tattoos and a nipple?” Eddie whined, like he always did when the bandages came off. Steve usually just snorted and listened to his complaints, but there was something extra to Eddie’s tone that he didn’t like.

“I mean, yeah, but you’re gonna have sick scars, dude,” Steve said with a winning smile when Eddie lifted his pout to look at him. Winking, Steve added, “Chicks dig scars, the whole bad boy look. Seriously, trust me.”

“If you say so,” Eddie sighed, still pouting dejectedly, and Steve frowned. Then Eddie said, “Don’t really care what girls like, though.”

At the time, Steve didn’t really register the way Wayne had fumbled the roll of medical tape, too caught up in getting Eddie to smile again. “Of course, you don’t,” Steve teased, winking at Eddie.

Eddie giggled. “Stop that, why are you winking? You look dumb,” he laughed, and Steve felt like he'd won something. Still smiling, his dimples out in full force, Eddie leaned closer to his face and asked, “What about dudes, though?”

The hospital room went very quiet as Wayne sucked in a sharp breath. Steve just blinked at Eddie, their eyes locked while he processed the question slowly. “What?” he asked dumbly after a few moments.

“I think that’s enough of this conversation—” Wayne started to say.

“I said!” Eddie interjected loudly, glaring almost childishly at his uncle before his attention returned to Steve. “What about dudes? Men? Boys? What do they think of scars?”

It was a bit embarrassing how long it still took for the dots to connect for Steve, but once they did, he blushed and glanced at Wayne nervously. The man was watching Steve with that hawkish stare of his and Steve had to look away. He could still feel Wayne’s stare burning holes into the side of his head and God he just hoped this wasn’t the first Wayne was hearing about this, too.

“Y-yeah, dudes dig scars, too,” he finally stammered out, meeting Eddie’s gaze once again. Eddie was squinting at him almost suspiciously, so Steve added a quiet, “A lot.”

Eddie’s expression split back into his goofy grin and Steve’s stomach did a little somersault. “What about you, big boy?” he pushed, his tone strange as if he had attempted to purr or something. If the moment wasn’t so whatever this was, Steve would’ve laughed.

“What about me?” Steve asked stupidly. He knew exactly what Eddie was asking.

With the biggest eye roll, Eddie asked, “Do you like scars, Stevie?”

That was the question of the century, at least it was for Steve, because the moment it left Eddie’s mouth, three things immediately clicked into place in Steve’s head.

The first being that yes, Steve was absolutely into scars. He didn’t have much experience really seeing scars on anyone else other than himself, but he still knew. The second was that he knew he was going to like Eddie’s scars, a part of him liking that some of their scars would match even. And third, there was a part of him that was hungry, possessive even, at the thought of Eddie with scars— especially Eddie with scars that matched his.

“Y-yeah, Eds, I like scars,” he managed to say, but he was nearly bowled over at the intensity of Eddie’s grin when it widened even further.

“Do you think they’re sexy?” Eddie asked, and Wayne sucked his teeth.

“Boys—”

“Yeah, I do,” Steve answered, taking a page from Eddie’s book and trying to ignore Wayne. It was a little hard to do when the man was packing up the gauze and medical tape quickly.

Eddie’s grin shifted into a smirk as he leaned so close to Steve’s face. “How sexy—?”

A surprisingly big and strong hand fell heavily on Steve’s shoulder, startling him.

“Alright, boys, that’s quite enough,” Wayne said sternly, and Eddie just laid back on the bed and giggled loudly up at the ceiling. Steve’s stomach had felt squeamish, especially when Wayne’s eyes met his with something fierce and angry in them. “Harrington, a word outside. Now.”

Steve did not waste time standing up and following Wayne out to the hall. The man kept walking, so Steve silently followed until Wayne led them to the stairs. Once the door behind them shut, Wayne spun and pinned Steve with a hard stare.

“Sir—”

“No, you’re going to listen to me, Harrington,” Wayne interrupted, and Steve’s mouth snapped shut with a loud click. Once he was satisfied that Steve would keep his mouth shut, Wayne nodded once and in a low, dangerous voice he said, “Now, you’re not going to repeat a damn word that you just heard in there. If I catch even a whisper of what he said—”

“I won’t,” Steve interjected, grimacing when Wayne’s expression darkened. “Please, just—he’s not the first friend I’ve had that’s—I would never do that, okay?”

Wayne’s eyes were narrowed suspiciously. “He’s too high for his own good right now, he probably doesn’t even know what he’s saying,” he said, his tone almost challenging and Steve glanced away. The thought of Eddie saying all of that, implying all that he had but not meaning any of it? It hurt a lot more than it probably should have, given that Steve only realized his feelings for Eddie specifically less than ten minutes ago.

When Steve managed to meet Wayne’s eyes again, his expression was far less suspicious, more thoughtful than anything. “Don’t bring any of this up unless Eddie does, got it?” he eventually said, and Steve began to protest.

Selfishly, he wanted to clear up whether Eddie meant it as soon as possible, to hear Eddie repeat all of it and fill in the gaps. He wanted to hear Eddie say he thought scars were hot too, that Steve’s scars were hot.

“Sir—”

“Listen, Steve, I know my boy and I know he doesn’t do well when he feels cornered. Even if you go in gentle, he’s gonna lash out and probably say something that cuts down to the quick,” Wayne pushed sternly, and Steve shut his mouth with a small nod. “You can take my advice or not, up to you, but I promise you it will not end well if you push.”

Steve was tempted to go against Wayne’s advice, to just clear everything up the moment Eddie was properly lucid again. But then he thought about possibly losing Eddie when he had a chance at something, that he could blow that chance because he was impatient and pushy. There was no way that Steve would take that risk, so he begrudgingly did as Wayne told him; he didn’t bring it back up, and he didn’t push Eddie to bring it up himself.

Still, Steve decided to show Eddie that his feelings were reciprocated; he flirted and teased, offered physical affection and helped him out as often as he could, cooked for him and Wayne and kept him company. He spent weeks just trying to show Eddie that he wanted him, too. That Eddie could finally close the distance between them, and he wouldn’t be turned away.

Then one day when Eddie and Steve had been grabbing something to eat after their monthly check-up with the government doctors, some hick had spat something vile and cruel as they passed their table. Eddie made a crude gesture back at them, looking all the world like he didn’t give a shit what they thought, but the moment the asshole was gone he deflated.

“I fucking hate it here. Can’t wait to get the fuck out,” Eddie grumbled, and Steve’s chest squeezed. He hadn’t considered that Eddie would want to leave, which he immediately realized was stupid. Eddie hadn’t been treated well by the town his whole life, and things had only gotten worse since spring break. Of course, Eddie wanted out.

“You’re leaving us, Munson?” Steve asked as he tossed a couple of fries into his mouth.

Eddie sighed, shrugged. “No plans yet. Probably wouldn’t anyway,” he said with a heavy, put-upon sigh.

“Why not? What could possibly be keeping you here?” Steve asked with a grand gesture at the diner around them, though he was obviously meaning the whole town.

Eddie glanced at him, cheeks turning pink, before he looked away and cleared his throat. “People,” he eventually said with another shrug, and Steve was positive he saw Eddie’s eyes glance over at him again as he said it.

“Oh,” Steve thought, his heart hurting at the thought of being part of the reason Eddie was staying in a town that despised him. At the same time, he felt like flying, the knowledge that he was enough of a good reason to stick around. Or, he was at least one of the good reasons.

“You shouldn’t make your decisions based on other people,” Steve said after a minute. “I’m sure they’d understand if you left.”

“They would. Definitely would,” Eddie agreed with a hollow little laugh. “I wouldn’t make it a day out there alone, though.”

Without even thinking about it, Steve asked, “Then why don’t you ask if they’d go with you?”

Eddie laughed out loud at that, but it was a hollow and almost bitter sound, his big brown eyes rolling. “Yeah, right. Believe me, Stevie,” he said in a low tone, meeting Steve’s eyes so pointedly, it felt like a challenge. “No one’s gonna wanna run away with me, not really.”

So, Steve started putting out hints that he wasn’t planning on staying in Hawkins forever, that he was looking for one good reason to leave, that he would run if Eddie just said so. He started mentioning trying to go to college again, looking at schools elsewhere, as far away from Hawkins, Indiana as possible while staying in the country; throwing in comments about getting an apartment big enough for himself and at least one roommate. Steve always talked about his plans to or around Eddie, and sometimes he would respond and play along before slipping into that deliberately deadpan flirtation.

It was confusing and felt like he was getting nowhere most of the time. Sometimes, though, Eddie would seem so close to taking down the walls around him, to bringing up his feelings, the conversation from the hospital, anything that would finally end Steve’s waiting. At the same time, Steve would wait forever if the alternative was potentially driving Eddie away.

Steve was happy enough with just Eddie’s friendship, even if that was the only type of relationship he would have.

“That’s a mighty serious face you’ve got on, Harrington.”

Jumping, Steve looked over at Eddie as he returned to the bedroom and immediately had to look away.

Eddie was wearing only a pair of boxers, squeezing his hair out with his towel as he wandered closer to where Steve was sitting on the bed. Glancing back at Eddie, Steve looked at the scars that covered his torso, how many of them matched his own, but then there were the scars over his chest and up the thick column of Eddie’s throat. There was nothing Steve wanted more in that moment than to put his mouth and tongue on every single twisted patch of skin.

As Eddie approached and tossed his towel onto the bed, Steve realized he had slipped the handle of a comb into the waistband of his boxers, the line of it following his happy trail. It captivated Steve’s attention for just a few moments too long because suddenly Eddie was standing directly in front of him and clearing his throat.

Looking up at Eddie’s face quickly, Steve smiled weakly at his raised eyebrow. His expression was strange, like he was unimpressed, but it was pinched, almost forced. Eddie’s eyes were wide and bright, and maybe it was just Steve’s own feelings, but there was an almost hopeful look behind them.

“You okay, Steve?” he asked, and Steve nodded quickly, grabbing the comb out of Eddie’s waistband. His fingertips brushed the smooth skin of Eddie’s lower abdomen and Steve was very interested in the way Eddie took a shuddering breath at the contact.

“Yeah, I’m perfect. Just admiring the view,” Steve said with a little smirk. Eddie’s blush was brilliant and the way the corner of his mouth twitched up had Steve’s heart soaring.

Then the hint of a smile turned… cold? It wasn’t mean, but it wasn’t the cute, bashful smile Steve had hoped he’d get.

“Of course, you are, big boy,” Eddie shot back flatly before rolling his eyes and crawling onto the bed, and something sour settled in Steve’s gut. “How do you want me for this, Steve?”

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Steve leaned back against the wall at the head of Eddie’s bed and patted the space between his legs. “Right here, I guess. Or if you want, you can sit on the floor, and I can braid your hair like that?”

At that, Eddie actually scoffed and threw him a raised eyebrow. “You want me on my knees with your hands in my hair, Harrington?” he asked coolly, his knowing smirk very close to something Steve recognized, but on someone else’s face. Then Eddie did that eyeroll of his and something clicked in Steve’s mind, and he barely registered when Eddie said, “I’ll sit in front of you like this.”

Steve just nodded and muttered quiet instructions for Eddie to move his head here and there as he braided Eddie’s hair—he was doing something Max called a Dutch braid because he thought it would be more Eddie’s style than a French braid—but his mind was stuck on the sarcasm, the eyeroll, the flat flirtation.

It reminded him of Carol but not quite. He could just remember all the times she would have some poor sap following her around, trying to get in her good graces, and the way she would flirt before rolling her eyes to Tommy and him. She would laugh at the boys as they walked away, and most of the time Steve could tell that they never realized she was making fun of them.

Once Steve made that association, it forcibly knocked everything that happened between him and Eddie into a new perspective. God, of course just because Eddie was into men didn’t mean he would be into Steve, and here he had been so fucking obvious and pushy with his crush. He was pushy, overbearing, and apparently couldn’t take the very obvious hints that Eddie had been throwing him all along.

And in hindsight, it was very obvious, Steve just never saw it because he thought Eddie wasn’t like that. Steve thought he actually found someone who wanted him as much as he wanted them, found someone who was direct and vocal about what they did and did not want. In the end, Steve never considered that Eddie might be just as petty as other people he knew, that he would be like everyone else who made fun of him for not keeping up. For having to be told everything out loud and in detail. For not taking hints, reading body language, and being too damn much.

Hurt settled deep in Steve’s core, but it was tangled up in an anger so fierce he had to work hard not to accidentally pull Eddie’s hair. The kids had a grace period for being shitty to him, but adults like Eddie? Absolutely not. He'd put up with too much for too long to take it without calling it out, especially if that’s what was happening.

Steve would rather admit his feelings and ruin their entire friendship forever rather than continue something where he was just the butt of another joke he wasn’t in on.

As he reached the end of the braid, Steve realized he didn’t actually have anything to tie it off, but he could see a hair tie on the bedside table. Leaning over, Steve accidentally yanked on Eddie’s braid, and he hissed.

“Damn, Steve, you haven’t even asked for my safeword yet,” Eddie flirted before chuckling as Steve tied off the braid, and something hot and angry flared in his gut and he opened his mouth to tell Eddie to fuck off.

“Are you making fun of me?” Steve asked instead, and he cringed at how embarrassingly small and sad his voice sounded.

The anger that was simmering in his gut was immediately doused by the hurt. It was like a bucket of cold water was dumped over Steve’s head and all he had left was the grasping, gnawing want for someone he apparently would never get to have. Suddenly he was standing in a bathroom at a loud Halloween party all over again while the person he loved called him bullshit and said they didn’t love him and never did, and he just wanted to scream about it. Part of Steve wanted to hit something, but he worked very hard to not be that person anymore, so he just balled his fists up in his lap.

“W-what?”

Steve didn’t even realize he was blinking up at the ceiling until he was returning his gaze to Eddie’s face, and the naked confusion Steve saw there was almost comforting.

“Are you making fun of me?” Steve repeated, this time a bit more firmly. “If you’re not—if you’re not interested in me, just say so.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Steve—what?” he asked haltingly, and Steve just ran his hands back through his hair.

“C’mon, Eds, I’m—fuck, Eddie, I’ve been trying so hard to follow Wayne’s advice and give you space, and do what I can to show you I’m—I want you so much and I thought you wanted me, too, but you’re just—” Steve stopped himself as his eyes stung with tears and he pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. “If you aren’t actually interested like I thought, just tell me. I don’t think I can take you laughing at me behind my back, too.”

“Stevie—” Eddie started, but the nickname hit Steve deep and he let out a shaky sob.

“Shit,” he said, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, fighting back the tears. Steve didn’t want to cry at all, but especially not in front of Eddie while he wasn’t certain that he wasn’t being laughed at.

Cool hands were on Steve’s cheeks and a weight settled across his lap. “Stevie, please, can you look at me?” And of course, Steve couldn’t deny him anything, even now.

Dropping his hands and tipping his head back against the wall, Steve looked up at Eddie and willed his tears away. Eddie was a lot closer than Steve expected, even knowing the man was in his lap and holding his face gently.

“I think I’ve been missing something because I didn’t—shit, Stevie, I didn’t know,” Eddie insisted earnestly, his rich brown eyes huge as he searched Steve’s face. “I’ve been fucking… I don’t know, pining for you for months, Stevie. Maybe even years, I don’t know, just—”

“I know,” Steve said miserably, his confusion mingling with his hurt in a nauseating mixture in his stomach, turning his eyes skyward as a tear fell. Eddie immediately caught it with his thumb and wiped it away.

“You know?” Eddie asked, his voice tight and Steve nodded, pinching his nose a bit and sucking in a sharp breath.

“Y-yeah, in the hospital, we talked about scars being hot, and you asked me if I would think your scars are hot—Wayne stopped the conversation,” Steve explained around a heavy sigh. “I didn’t want to scare you off, so I just—I was hoping you would see that I feel the same way and finally say something.”

“Steve, I’m so sorry, I don’t—I literally don’t remember a lot of the hospital,” Eddie admitted, and Steve laughed.

“Yeah, I’m starting to figure that out,” he said with a sigh, chewing on his lip as he returned his gaze to Eddie’s face. “If you feel the same, why’ve you been pushing me away?”

“Because I’m a coward, Steve. I was running away,” Eddie replied with an explosive sigh, stroking Steve’s cheeks with both thumbs.

“Don’t say you’re a coward, because you’re not,” Steve argued fiercely, hating the way Eddie talked about himself. His interjection just seemed to make Eddie sadder.

“Listen, Steve, I don’t know how much you’ve experienced as a dude into other dudes in a small town like this, but I just—I don’t act on vague gestures, Steve,” he said, and Steve frowned as confusion swirled. “I can’t act on that shit if I want to keep my head from being caved in by angry hicks, okay?”

And that… well, that stung, and Steve felt a moment of frustration at himself for feeling that way. It made sense that Eddie would be afraid; Steve knew exactly what sort of attitudes Eddie would be up against in a town like Hawkins if they knew, or what would happen if Eddie flirted with the wrong guy based on a misunderstanding. Steve got it.

But Steve wasn’t just some guy, he was Eddie’s friend. They almost died multiple times together, Steve helped nurse him back to health. He thought they were close, that Eddie knew he was at least safe to be himself around, even if he didn’t want to be with him.

“Steve?” Eddie pressed, sounding nervous.

Taking a deep breath, Steve nodded a bit. “Th-that makes sense,” he agreed after a few moments, giving a bit of a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m just—I’m sorry.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “For what?” he asked, his huge eyes wide as Steve met his gaze again.

“For whatever I did that made you feel like I would maybe hurt you,” Steve said with a one-shouldered shrug. “I know I was shitty about this in high school, but I thought I’d turned—”

“Steve, fuck, no! That’s not—shit, okay, start over,” Eddie groaned loudly, tipping his head back to whine a bit. “Jesus H Christ, I hate talking about my feelings. This is so fucking hard.”

“Tell me about it,” Steve teased with a chuckle.

“Can you actually close your eyes and not look at me for this, Stevie? I just—I need to say a bunch of shit and I don’t think I can do that with you looking at me,” he confessed after a few moments of silent thinking.

Without hesitation, Steve closed his eyes and relaxed against the wall. “Eyes are closed, not looking at you,” he said quietly and waited.

“I was pretty sure that you wouldn’t hurt me if you found out I was gay, Steve. But there’s—there would be no way to know for sure unless you found out and that not knowing was fucking terrifying,” Eddie said in a rush, and Steve could feel the way he began to shake. “And then there’s—there are guys who say they’re okay with it, but the moment they find out you have feelings for them that’s—the thought that you might be fine with me being gay, but not about my ridiculous crush… I couldn’t risk it.”

Steve could hear the heavy weight of history there, that Eddie wasn’t just talking about a hypothetical scenario he created in his head but a real memory, something formative and traumatic. His heart ached with how badly he wanted to soothe that pain so Eddie never felt like he couldn’t love someone loudly ever again. Of course, he wanted to ask about it, if only because he wanted to know everything about Eddie, and Steve could guess that he would tell him, regardless of how uncomfortable it would make him. That was also a conversation that could happen another time.

Steve rested his hands on Eddie’s hips, rubbing his thumbs up and down the spurs of his hips. A soft smile came over his face when Eddie jumped at his touch, and Steve sighed with relief when Eddie leaned into it.

“That makes a lot of sense actually,” Steve said, squeezing Eddie’s hips. Then, tentatively, he asked, “Can I hold you?”

Eddie let out a sound that was mostly a sob, but Steve could hear the word ‘yes’ tangled up in it so he quickly wrapped his arms around Eddie and held him tight against his chest. It was still oppressively hot, and they were both sweating, and honestly the way any bare skin that was showing stuck together was unpleasant, but that was alright. It was perfect, because Eddie was in his arms and Steve knew he returned his feelings.

“Can I ask you something, Steve?” Eddie asked as he rested their foreheads together.

“Go ahead,” Steve said instantly, his eyes still closed.

“Why did you think I was making fun of you?” Eddie asked nervously.

Grimacing, Steve shrugged. “I didn’t think you were until today, honestly. It was just—you started rolling your eyes today,” he responded, his mouth twisting. “It reminded me of something someone else would do when she was making fun of guys who had a crush on her.”

“Shit, Steve, I’m sorry,” Eddie said softly and the hands still holding Steve’s cheeks didn’t let him shake his head. “No, don’t, it’s—shit, Steve, I should’ve just not flirted with you. Really tried to have my cake and eat it too with all that.”

Steve let out a bark of laughter, squeezing his arms around Eddie even tighter. Eddie practically melted against him, and Steve desperately wanted to look at him again.

“Eds, can I open my eyes now?” Steve asked and, at Eddie’s little nod, he blinked his eyes open. With Eddie’s forehead against his, their faces were way too close, and Steve felt himself go cross-eyed trying to meet Eddie’s gaze. Laughing, Eddie moved to pull back, but Steve lifted a hand to hold the back of his head, keeping him close as he glanced down at Eddie’s lips.

“Steve?” Eddie asked quietly, his voice soft and tentative, almost unsure.

Sighing, Steve leaned closer, his breath ghosting over Eddie’s lips as he asked, “Can I kiss you, Eds?”

There was a moment where Eddie tensed, and Steve was getting ready to apologize when those perfect hands slid further back to tangle in his hair. “Want you to know I’ve never kissed anyone before,” he admitted quietly, and something warm and fond bubbled up in Steve’s chest. “Just because I might suck.”

Steve just smiled and shook his head. “You’ll be perfect, I know you will,” he hummed before guiding Eddie’s lips to his own.

[ TBC ]

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[talonabraxas]

“Like all magical mysteries, the secrets of the Great Work have a triple meaning: they are religious, philosophical and natural. Philosophical gold in religion is the Absolute and Supreme Reason; in philosophy, it is truth; in visible nature, it is the sun: in the subterranean and mineral world, it is the purest and most perfect gold. Hence the search after the Great Work is called the Search for the Absolute, and this work itself is termed the operation of the sun.” ― Éliphas Lévi, Transcendental Magic: Its Doctrine and Ritual

Eye in the Triangle Dale Keogh

Eliphas Levi: The Triangle of Solomon

The perfect word is the triad, because it supposes an intelligent principle, a speaking principle and a principle spoken. The Absolute, revealed by speech, endows this speech with a sense equivalent to itself, and in the understanding thereof creates its third self. So also the sun manifests by its light and proves or makes his manifestation efficacious by heat.

The triad is delineated in space by the heavenly zenith, the infinite height, connected with East and West by two straight diverging lines. With this visible triangle reason compares another which is invisible, but is assumed to be equal in dimension; the abyss is its apex and its reversed base is parallel to the horizontal line stretching from East to West. These two triangles, combined in a single figure, which is the six-pointed star, form the sacred symbol of Solomon’s Seal, the resplendent Star of the Macrocosm. The notion of the Infinite and the Absolute is expressed by this sign, which is the grand pantacle – that is to say, the most simple and complete abridgement of the science of all things.

Grammar itself attributes three persons to the verb. The first is that which speaks, the second that which is spoken to, and the third the object. In creating, the Infinite Prince speaks to Himself of Himself. Such is the explanation of the triad and the origin of the dogma of Trinity. The magical dogma is also one in three and three in one. That which is above is like or equal to that which is below. Thus, two things which resemble one another and the word which signifies their resemblance make three. The triad is the universal dogma. In Magic – principle, realization, adaptation; in Alchemy – azoth, incorporation, transmutation; in theology – God, incarnation, redemption; in the human soul – thought, love and action.

There are three intelligible worlds which correspond one with another by hierarchic analogy; the natural or physical, the spiritual or metaphysical, and the divine or religious worlds. From this principle follows the hierarchy of spirits, divided into three orders, and again subdivided by the triad in each of these.

All these revelations are logical deductions from the first mathematical notions of being and number. Unity must multiply itself in order to become active. An indivisible, motionless and sterile principle would be unity dead and incomprehensible. Were God only one He would never be Creator or Father. Were He two there would be antagonism or division in the infinite, which would mean the division also or death of all possible things. He is therefore three for the creation by Himself and in His image of the infinite multitude of beings and numbers. So is He truly one in Himself and triple in our conception, which also leads us to behold Him as triple in Himself and one in our intelligence. This is a mystery for the faithful and a logical necessity for the initiate into absolute and real sciences.

The Word manifested by life is realization or incarnation. The life of the Word accomplishing its cyclic movement is adaptation, or redemption. This triple dogma was known in all sanctuaries illuminated by the tradition of the Sages.

The primeval Sages, when seeking the First of Causes, behold good and evil in the world. They considered shadow and light; they compared winter with spring, age with youth, life with death, and their conclusion was this: The First Cause is beneficent and severe; It gives and takes away life. Then are there two contrary principles, the one good and the other evil, exclaimed the disciples of Manes. No, the two principles of universal equilibrium are not contrary, although contrasted in appearance, for a singular wisdom opposes one to another. Good is on the right, evil on the left; but the supreme excellence is above both, applying evil to the victory of good and good to the amendment of evil.

The principle of harmony is in unity, and it is this which imparts such power to the uneven number in Magic. Now, the most perfect of the odd numbers is three, because it is the trilogy of unity. In the trigrams of Fohi, the superior triad is composed of three YANG, or masculine figures, because nothing passive can be admitted into the idea of God, considered as the principle of production in the three worlds. For the same reason, the Christian Trinity by no means permits the personification of the mother, who is shown forth implicitly in that of the Son. Hence, in the trigrams of Fohi, the three inferior YIN correspond to the three superior YANG, for these trigrams constitute a pantacle like that of the two triangles of Solomon, but with a triadic interpretation of the six points of the blazing star.

Dogma is only divine inasmuch as it is truly human – that is to say, in so far as it sums up the highest reason of humanity. So also the Master, Whom we term the Man-God, called Himself the Son of Man. Revelation is the expression of belief accepted and formulated by universal reason in the human word, on which account it is said that the divinity is human and the humanity divine in the Man-God. Paracelsus and Agrippa did not set up altar against altar but bowed to the ruling religion of their time: to the elect of science, the things of science; to the faithful, the things of faith.

In his hymn to the royal Sun, the Emperor Julian gives a theory of the triad which is almost identical with that of the illuminated Swedenborg. The sun of the divine world is the infinite, spiritual and uncreated light, which is verbalized, so to speak, in the philosophical world, and becomes the fountain of souls and of truth: then it incorporates and becomes visible light in the sun of the third world, the central sun of our suns, of which the fixed stars are the ever-living sparks. The Kabalists compare the spirit to a substance which remains fluid in the divine medium and under the influence of the essential light, its exterior, however, becoming solidified, like wax when exposed to air, in the colder realm of reasoning or of visible forms. These shells, envelopes petrified or carnified, were such an expression possible, and the source of errors or of evil, which connects with the heaviness and hardness of animal envelopes. In the book Zohar, and in that of the Revolution of Souls, perverse spirits or evil demons are never called otherwise than shells – cortices. The cortices of the world or spirits are transparent, while those of the material world are opaque. Bodies are only temporary shells, whence souls have to be liberated; but those who in this life obey the flesh build up an interior body or fluidic shell, which, after death, becomes their prison-house and torment, until the time arrives when they succeed in dissolving it in the warmth of the divine light, towards which, however, the burden of their grossness hinders them from ascending. Indeed, they can do so only after infinite struggles, and by the mediation of the just, who stretch forth their hands towards them. During the whole period of the process they are devoured by the interior activity of the captive spirit, as in a burning furnace. Those who attain the pyre of expiation burn themselves thereon, like Hercules upon Mount Oetna, and so are delivered from their sufferings; but the courage of the majority fails before this ordeal, which seems to them a second death more appalling than the first, and so they remain in hell, which is rightly and actually eternal; but souls are never precipitated, nor even retained despite themselves therein.

The three worlds correspond together by means of the thirty-two paths of light, which are as steps of a sacred ladder. Every true thought corresponds to a Divine Grace in heaven and a good work on earth; every Grace of God manifests a truth, and produces one or many acts; reciprocally, every act affects a truth of falsehood in the heavens, a grace or a punishment. When a man pronounces the Tetragram – say the Kabalists – the nine celestial realms sustain a shock, and then all spirits cry out one upon another: ‘Who is it thus disturbing the kingdom of heaven?’ Then does the earth communicate unto the first sphere the sins of that rash being who takes the Eternal Name in vain, and the accusing word is transmitted from circle to circle, from star to star, and from hierarchy to hierarchy.

Every utterance possesses three senses, every act has a triple range, every form a triple idea, for the Absolute corresponds from world to world by its forms. Every determination of human will modifies Nature, concerns philosophy and is written in heaven. There are consequently two fatalities, one resulting from the Uncreated Will in harmony with its proper wisdom, the other from created wills in accordance with the necessity of secondary causes in their correspondence with the First Cause. There is hence nothing indifferent in life, and our seeming most simple resolutions do often determine an incalculable series of benefits or evils, above all in the affinities of our DIAPHANE with the Great Magical Agent, as we shall explain elsewhere.

The triad, being the fundamental principle of the whole Kabalah, or Sacred Tradition of our fathers, was necessarily the fundamental dogma of Christianity, the apparent dualism of which it explains by the intervention of a harmonious and all-powerful unity. So is the Apocalypse the book of the Gnosis or Secret Doctrine of the first Christians.

‘The sacred word MALKUTH substituted for KETHER, which is its kabalistic correspondent, and the equipoise of GEBURAH and CHESED, repeating itself in the circles of heavens called eons by the Gnostics, provided the keystone of the whole Christian Temple in the occult versicle.

MALKUTH, based upon GEBURAH and CHESED, is the Temple of Solomon having JAKIN and BOAZ for its Pillars; it is Adamite dogma, founded, for the one part on the resignation of Abel and, for the other, on the labours and self reproach of Cain; it is the equilibrium of being established on necessity and liberty, stability and motion; it is the demonstration of the universal lever sought in vain by Archimedes. A scholar whose talents were employed in the culture of obscurity, who died without seeking to be understood, resolved this supreme equation, discovered by him in the Kabalah, and was in dread of its source transpiring if he expressed himself more clearly. We have seen one of his disciples and admirers most indignant, perhaps in good faith, at the suggestion that his master was a Kabalist; but we can state notwithstanding, to the glory of the same learned man, that his researches have shortened appreciably our work on the occult sciences, and that the key of the transcendent Kabalah above all, indicated in the arcane versicle cited above, has been applied skillfully to an absolute reform of all sciences in the books of Hoene Wronski.

The secret virtue of the gospels is therefore contained in three words, and these three words have established three dogmas and three hierarchies. All science reposes upon three principles, as the syllogism upon three terms. There are also three distinct classes, or three original and natural ranks, among men, who are called to advance from the lower to the higher. The Jews term these three series or degrees in the progress of spirits, ASSIAH, YETZIRAH and BRIAH. The Gnostics, who were Christian Kabalists, called them HYLE, PSYCHE and GNOSIS; by the Jews the supreme circle was named ATZILUTH, and by the Gnostics PLEROMA. In the Tetragram, the triad, taken at the beginning of the word, expresses the divine copulation; taken at the end, it expressed the female and maternity.

Tetractys. The Tetractys (also known as the Decad) is an equilateral Triangle formed from the sequence of the first ten numbers aligned in four rows. It is both a Mathematical idea and a Metaphysical Symbol that embraces within itself - in Seedlike form - the Principles of the Natural World, the Harmony of the Cosmos, the Ascent to the Divine, and the Mysteries of the Divine Realm. So revered was this Ancient Symbol that it inspired Ancient Philosophers to swear by the name of the one who brought this gift to Humanity --Pythagoras.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 9/10/2024

someone adopt this little orange man from me in Houston TX! more details here!

listening

the 1991 Ella Mae Morse compilation Capitol Collectors Series is the official driving-cats-to-the-vet album bc it is so mellow but still fun. this album has previously been featured several times in tuesdayposts but i think you should all listen to it again.

seven thousand three hundred days IS a long long time to sleep ur so right ella

-

reading

two different works that annoyed me: Emily Hamilton's The Stars Too Fondly. my first clue should have been that this is my least favorite poem, bc ppl would quote it to me smugly after my mom died. im sure they thought they were being so super comforting to a budding astronomer, but, much like how i can no longer eat lasagna bc ppl gave us Twenty! Party! Size! Platters! Of! Lasagna! after my mom died (they would just Appear on our front porch, frozen), too much of this poem really soured me.

i had this book on hold Forever and then delayed delivery twice bc i have not felt like reading lately. here's the publisher's description:

In her breathtaking debut—part space odyssey, part sapphic rom-com—Emily Hamilton weaves a suspenseful, charming, and irresistibly joyous tale of fierce friendship, improbable love, and wonder as vast as the universe itself. So, here’s the thing: Cleo and her friends really, truly didn’t mean to steal this spaceship. They just wanted to know why, twenty years ago, the entire Providence crew vanished without a trace. But then the stupid dark matter engine started all on its own, and now these four twenty-somethings are en route to Proxima Centauri, unable to turn around, and being harangued by a snarky hologram that has the face and attitude of the ship’s missing captain, Billie. Cleo has dreamt of being an astronaut all her life, and Earth is kind of a lost cause at this point, so this should be one of those blessings in disguise that people talk about. But as the ship gets deeper into space, the laws of physics start twisting, old mysteries come crawling back to life, and Cleo’s initially combative relationship with Billie turns into something deeper and more desperate than either woman was prepared for. Lying somewhere in the subspace between science fantasy and sapphic rom-com, The Stars Too Fondly is a soaring near-future adventure about dark matter and alternate dimensions, leaving home and finding family, and the galaxy-saving power of letting yourself love and be loved.

should be catnip for me, right? wrong. starts out as a chat fic, which i hate.

i had a lot of trouble finishing the first chapter, which also has an extended third-person omniscient narrator flashback in italics, a thing i also hate. i KNOW you can figure out how to integrate this information into the book in a better way instead of dumping it in my lap.

i think part of why this is not hitting like i wanted is the tone, because i think this veers more new adult than i was really hoping for. i think introducing a big group all at once is very hard to do effectively. i do not like a series of character introductions that feel like they are trying to sell me action figures. or perhaps blind-bag figures. i do not like a six-deep list of cheesy puns about someone's name. i do not have the patience to see if this debut novel finds its footing a little later on, though i am glad a sapphic ghost in the machine romance exists in this world.

i also read dean motter's mister x (both the original late eighties through early nineties run and the 2008 follow-on).

let's yoink the description from wikipedia:

Set in Radiant City, a dystopian municipality influenced by Bauhaus and Fritz Lang's Metropolis, the series concerns a mysterious figure who purports to be its architect. His radical theories of "psychetecture" cause the citizenry to go mad, just as he did, and he takes on the mission to repair his creation. To accomplish this he remains awake twenty-four hours a day by means of the drug "insomnalin", all the while coping with a Dick Tracy–like rogues gallery and supporting cast including his long-suffering ex-girlfriend Mercedes. (ed note: the redhead in the santa beard below)

the art in this comic book is really and truly stunning. everyone was firing on all cylinders. beautiful retrofuturistic advertisement vibes, very fun play with panels and word balloons while still being readable, there are airships, you know how it is. looooooooove a hardboiled noir.

the Concept of mister x, this horrible awful futuristic city that grinds its citizenry up and spits them out? both figuratively and sometimes literally? love it!!! love a great wounded beast of a city as a character!!!

unforch the "who is mister x" subplot does not resolve in a satisfying way, imo. there's a lot of flip-flopping, there's a lot of options, he ends up being (maybe?) someone he was very definitively proven NOT to be in an earlier issue, and it really soured me on the whole experience. and also i don't believe it! that specific person makes no fucking sense! who mister x is, is by far the least interesting part of the series. tell me more about how he's fixing the city. show me more of the city. shut up and dance, robot artists

-

watching

X-Men: Apocalypse (2016, dir. Singer). this movie did not need to be two and a half hours long. appreciated the EXTREMELY divorced energy from charles & erik though, quicksilver rescuing the school scene was also very fun. my bestie's husband has informed me we are NOT watching Dark Phoenix, i'm not sure if we're going to loop back and watch the ??? number of wolverine films or if we're going to see how i feel about deadpool. bc i find this character insufferable through clips only.

-

playing

there is a feature in the video game genshin impact to turn your World Level (TM) down in order to make overworld enemies a little easier. i am at seven out of nine bc i genuinely can't finish the boss to unlock world level 9, and i am finding some of the overworld enemies too hard at 8 and want to finish the achievements in a more relaxed fashion.

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making

this is going to be a lot of previously posted pics so bear with me.

saturday morning/saturday evening. plants? repotted. porch and stairs? swept. old wasp nests? knocked down. different mirror on the porch to go out to the curb when i have the energy? yes. also a giant slab of engineered stone from the top of a dresser but that's out of frame.

speaking of the giant broken dresser that was in my apartment when i moved in just over a year ago, i ripped it apart with a crowbar and threw it in the dumpster. put my pretty zebrawood desk in the empty space and started thinking about what to hang on that wall. the wall across from it is maps, bc i think a cozy office should have lots of maps and it makes a good video conference background. maybe this will be the dedicated cowboy nonsense wall. i did so much dusting and vacuuming and mopping and the girls can't even hang out in here bc the orange boy is in the office bathroom. big sigh.

also a lot of driving around and emailing and calling thirty shelters and rescues figuring out how to get this orange man a home. please take this orange man off my hands.

[gard3nias]

18| Opposites attract

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wc: 5.59k

date: 15/11/2024

mdi // masterlist // playlist

—Now playing: R.I.P. 2 My Youth by The Neighbourhood ✫

"Daph? Are you there?" And there was silence. After what seemed like a trance founded on anxiety and heavy breaths, there was silence. Back to life. Back to reality. Or was it?

“Rhodes?” Her head was a cage with rubber walls, the type that allows words to bounce nonstop, the only right formula that can fuel her anxiety. They won’t come out nor stop popping up.

Daphne was in the bathroom, in a stall. Beneath her was the toilet with the lid closed and in front of her was the door behind which she’d just heard her friend’s voice. How long had she been there? Couldn’t have been too long, come on. She hadn’t cried that much, had she? Her tailbone wasn’t complaining about the discomfort it would feel when she sat on a hard surface for too long with her knees against her chest so it couldn’t be.

“Rhodes?” She didn’t verbally reply when her name was called, just got up, systemised her sweater a bit and went to the desk. When she was standing next to the teacher, she tried not to look at the colour of the pen he used to write her grade so her heart dropped out of her body nearly as hard as she did on her chair when she read the number in the top right corner.

Like a slot machine, the sadness on her face disappeared to show no reaction. Her brain behaved the same way but in the row were three equal numbers penned in red with Mr Keeley’s handwriting. Just as she’d made her way back to her desk, her feet moved one after the other almost robotically as they did when she walked out of the class, along the hallway to the bathroom and into a stall. 

Her hand reached for the lid, closed it after closing the door and sat on it before taking in a big breath and letting it all out, giving space for her brain to focus on what was next. Like fuel to an empty engine, the battery to a malfunctioning clock and the current through a wire. That was all she needed before her vision gradually blurred out, her eyes filled up and the pinching on her thighs got more intense. It took her no time to reach her height, climbing up the stairs to the maximum stress. The last drop of water sank into the filled cup and it overflew, dragging out sobs that she tried to muffle against her legs.

Maybe she needed this. Not the failure but certainly the venting out hence the surprise she felt when her ears caught something disrupting the echoing silence of the bathroom. It wasn’t entirely surprising on its own: it’s a school bathroom, people are expected to walk in whenever they want and do whatever they want; it wouldn’t have stopped her from crying. She’s behind the door of a stall, her feet are on the toilet and certainly no one could recognise her just from the sound of her weeping.

“Daph?” The voice was a wake-up call, the necessary to have her snap back to reality and out of the virulent world her mind was easing its way to.

“Y-yeah?” Her voice was there—somewhere, very tiny but present and she didn’t forget it in the toxic dimension. Her hands moved to wipe the tears away before she could even register, muscle memory.

“You okay?” It wasn’t official but Daphne’s brain’s favourite activity was overthinking but not enough to have a prepared answer to such a simple question, maybe a bot response. 

Was she okay? Objectively, no. Subjectively? She had to be: she had wrongly planned her study schedule and underestimated the physics topic which caused her to make so many stupid and little mistakes that weighed a lot in the final grade. The number penned in red was a six and a minus following which meant she didn’t pass it—its real value was 5.75, not a full six. It was expected after prioritising that stupid physics topic about light. The topic of this test was easy and quick to understand with common sense so it didn’t scare her and she studied it superficially.

Cleo didn’t know this as she waited for a reply behind the stall door. It eventually came but non-verbal: Daphne came out after trying her best to conceal the traces of a potential anxiety attack that she was about to go through.

“Hey.” That was the only word she said and Cleo checked her to find a better answer from her body language. “I— erm, what are you doing here?”

“I was worried so I came to check on you.” Daphne’s hands fiddled with anything they came in contact with, her jeans, nails, hair, the sleeves and the bottom edge of her sweater because she didn’t know how to act. She didn’t want to behave like the last time, making her friends feel obliged to organise a whole picnic for her, no. She had to force herself to forget about school that day despite wanting to cry out like a baby. She couldn’t lie though: Cleo’s scrutinising eyes made her feel slightly uncomfortable and, back there, she really wanted to ball her eyes out and set free the dark feelings clouding her brain and sending it into system malfunction. Let the dark tears roll down her cheeks, land on her sweater and even soak it up. She didn’t care as long as they were out of her body. The sweater could be restored after a quick trip to Washing Machine and Dryer.

“And I wanted to tell you that is nothing serious. You can easily retake the test—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know that but that’s… not the problem. I’m just—” Her words got stuck in her throat maybe with the sobs she wanted to release before. Running away from Cleo’s inspecting eyes, she went to the sink to wash her hands and rub her eyes without caring about proving Cleo’s suspicions or not. The bathroom was silent as she did her thing and Cleo stood beside her with arms crossed and a worried look all across her face, one Daphne tried to avoid as she looked at her reflection in the mirror.

Cleo didn’t fail the test. On the top corner of her sheet was a bright red seven so she was surprised to see that Daphne failed hers. Yes, it wasn’t so far away from passing the test but she’d found the topic so easy that she expected someone like Daphne to get a grade way higher than hers—like Asher did since he had got a 9.5. Clearly, all these thoughts and hopes were not to be mentioned to her friend. Failure happens sometimes, one just has to accept it and learn from it.

“I didn’t plan my study well and prioritised the other topic above this so I don’t really feel bad about the grade, y’know. It was kind of expected. Physics just sucks, I guess.” Her tone was as cold as the water dripping from her fingers into the sink and Cleo felt it without knowing how to warm it up. She just had to accept it as they returned to the classroom. Luckily for Daphne, the bell had rung for the break to begin so no eyes were too focused on her when she stepped back inside.

Her demeanour may be matching in temperature with the breeze blowing outside her school but maybe it would’ve warmed up if only she had met the pair of eyes wandering around the hallway looking for hers. Even with glasses on, he couldn’t find her.

Are Wednesdays always this bad?

—Now playing: $TING by The Neighbourhood ✫

It was another of the seemingly everlasting series of cloudy but bright autumn days. The sunlight didn’t warm anything up, overpowered by the slicing and chilly breeze that blew from the clouds to Daphne against her face, through her hair to her neck and against her jean-covered legs.

Her feet moved one after the other in the warm comfort of her mini-platform sheepskin boots. The pair of jeans she wore wasn’t anything special, as was the sweater underneath her thick jacket. Around her neck was a scarf that struggled to cover her as much as she wanted.

The direction she was headed caused her to walk against the draft. Her nose quickly caught a warmer shade while her hair blew towards the direction her friends had taken as they went home. Her destination was the library, her second home at this point. In no time, she’d become a regular there, so much so that the receptionist knew her and greeted her with a smile whenever she came in and went out. They knew she always walked past the building to the nearby bakery, grabbed something to eat and returned to eat it on the stairs before finally heading inside.

The little teenager peacefully ate her piece of pizza with her headphones working as earmuffs and sat in a position that implied she was feeling a bit cold. Anyone looking outside from inside the building would wonder why she wouldn’t eat inside but it was a simple choice she’d made and wasn’t bothered about. She felt like the library was a place to be kept clean—even when she was inside and wanted a snack from the vending machine, she would eat it outside the study zone.

Finally, she finished having her lunch and grabbed all her belongings to go inside. Waving at the receptionist, she walked straight to the elevators and went up to the study zone where her favourite spot sat empty, waiting for her to occupy it. As if she were in a moving vehicle, she liked sitting next to the window because it helped her concentrate, she enjoyed the natural light and it allowed her to keep track of time without always having to check her phone.

She loved hearing how silent the library was unlike outside where the town was blooming with noise. Specifically, the study zone felt like a capsule of its own where the commotion decreased even further and, willing to hear it, she always turned the music off and pulled her headphones down.

One hand was in her pocket while the other held her phone and Daphne walked through the oh-so-familiar space, heading straight to her usual spot. Another advantage of it was that it was secluded, a spot pretty hidden, one that you reach only if you patiently walk around the library in search of something new instead of settling down in the first ones you see when you step inside. The way leading there resembled a labyrinth outlined by rows of bookshelves.

As she approached it, the number of people she saw reduced until there were barely any. The table she always sits at welcomes three chairs on both sides and she always picks the closest one to the window. Next to it, forming aisles in the library, was a second and a third table, barely two meters away from each other. 

Sitting in the centre of the wide table was a wooden divider against a socket to which Daphne connected the charger of her iPad. Her school bag leaned against the leg of the table and her jacket hugged the backrest of the chair when she went to look for physics books to study with. 

Failing the test didn’t hurt as much as the other time because she realised the fault was on her for not planning her studies better and neglecting the latest topic. After all, it seemed easy and maybe that was the problem. Her friends had already told her that since she didn’t fail badly, Mr Keeley would test her orally on the topic so she wouldn’t have to retake the test fully. Those words didn’t comfort her because studying wasn’t hard for her, especially once she planned how to use her time perfectly. This time, it was a slip-up that wouldn’t happen again hence the numerous physics books painfully sitting in her arms as she returned to her seat not without struggling between carrying the weight and trying not to have everything fall and cause a rumble of noise all through the peaceful library.

She placed the pile in a corner to make herself comfortable before opening the first one, her digital notebook and diving into the activity, headphones on, soft music playing and legs crossed.

—Now playing: Sad Girl by Lana Del Rey ✫

According to the receptionist, the opening and closing of the library doors could be equated to club doors with the only difference being the origin of the noise which in this case came from outside. Along with the noise came a hot breeze during summer and a cold one in autumn and winter. With a smile and a little greeting, their job was back on pause while Taehyung proceeded towards the elevators. 

He didn’t hesitate before unzipping his jacket as the library’s warmth was already getting to him. By the time the lift tinged and opened, it would be thrown across his arm while the other held his backpack. He ruffled his hair as he casually walked into the study zone. Around his neck were his headphones and sitting on his nose were his new companions, for the time being—his glasses.  

His schedule was packed which wasn’t unusual but because of the campaign, he felt like it was the end of the world and weighed on him like a mansion. He barely paid any attention as he walked through the room towards his self-assigned position but froze when his eyes landed on it and saw it occupied. It had been long since he last came to the library to study but he felt it could never be long enough for anyone to dig this deep in the library because the first tables right at the entrance were never fully occupied.

He stood in the little lane separating the two wide tables away from the window, the third one was where she was. He blinked a few times to be sure he wasn’t hallucinating but soon came to his senses and decided to sit at the third table, on the polar opposite, making them on the same side but multiple chairs away.

He plopped on the chair and let his backpack slide onto the floor as he watched her and thought of what he could do. He wondered if he should sit at the same table as hers or greet her but she looked so focused on whatever she was studying and it felt illegal to disturb her. He even believed she was in a similar situation as his because of the pile of books on the table which reminded him not to get distracted so, reluctantly, he decided to mind his business and study. He kept his backpack and his jacket on the empty chair next to him before taking his books out.

—Now playing: Single by The Neighbourhood ✫

Late Afternoon rolled around. Came by as quickly as it left so Evening could step in. The artificial lights carved into the ceiling of the library seemed to shine brighter against the darkness that penetrated from outside into the building. 

Closing hours were approaching while the number of students progressively reduced, turning the main area of the study zone similar to the secluded one where Daphne and Taehyung spent their afternoon studying.

Having to answer duty’s call, Taehyung couldn’t indulge in his brain’s favourite activity but it still tried to sneak it in as best as it could. Studying technically next to Daphne made him seem like he’d come there to play. She would barely lift her head off her book. Her body was always living in the best comfort because she never stretched and barely changed positions. He, on the other hand, had had multiple breaks when he’d go for a walk in the building or through bookshelves, go out for a smoke or get himself a little treat at the vending machines. Her only form of distraction if one could call it that, was drinking from the water bottle next to her.

He was amazed, there was no other way to put it but in his amazement, he just mentally complimented her and packed his things. He couldn’t do it as she, never—since he had to follow the Pomodoro technique and have at least two breaks in one hour—and, therefore, he got up to look for a little book he could read to come out of the focus session he was in fully minutes ago. His mind couldn’t even picture himself in her shoes because he could never be focused for that long especially considering all that the past weeks have been for him.

Visibly, Daphne seemed not to care about his unspoken thoughts. She just went on with her life and her activity for a few more minutes after he’d left before she decided it was time to start packing everything up. She removed the charger from the socket, placed all her school supplies in her pencil case, and when all of her belongings were in her backpack, she finally got up and took the pile of books to be kept back.

She was physically and mentally tired at that point and every inch of her body was laced with impatience to return the books to their spots and rush home quickly. They say patience is a gift and yes, she’d received it but maybe had left it at home that day. Curse words flew out of her mouth one after the other like the wagons of a train when the book sitting on top of the pile made her go through several stages of distress: it kept moving to one side which she tried to contrast but eventually failed when it tipped over; to prevent it from slamming flat on the floor and sounding like a titan had just slammed someone, she used her foot to stop the impact or, better, to feel the impact. 

“Ouch! Fuck!” Her frustration could be heard even in the soft whispering and Taehyung did. He was walking along the way separating the windows from the rows of bookshelves and he was just about to walk past her when he heard her.

“Need some help there?” He asked the question and he answered it without giving her the time to even understand who was speaking to her. He slammed his book shut without checking what page he’d reached and, after placing it on a nearby shelf, he crouched to pick the book up. Daphne was still stunned and suddenly the weight in her hands ceased to exist both because her mind stopped thinking about it and also because he’d collected the whole pile from her.

Clearing her voice, she finally replied, “Erm, thank you.” From his body language, she understood that he didn’t mind about it so she simply silently walked behind him. He already knew his way around and where the books belonged so she stopped trying to show him the directions after he anticipated her words a couple of times. When they were at the right section, she hurried to collect the books from him and place them in their right spot. Only once they were done did they finally stand to face each other.

“Thank you, again,” she chuckled. 

“It’s nothing really.” She nodded and smiled. Her eyes stared at his for a split second before they started wandering around. He tilted his head and asked, “Daphne, right?” with a wider smile, she nodded even more eagerly.

“Yeah and… you’re Taehyung,” he chuckled and nodded as well. Objectively, it could just look like a couple of teenagers remembering each other’s names after just one encounter. How cute. How lovely. Who wouldn’t want to be in their shoes? The only thing was that they were both oblivious to the fact that they remembered each other’s name not from that one night but from social media stalking and daydreams that go way back to before the party.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you knew your way around so well— which is completely stupid because you have lived here since you can remember. Sorry, I’m so dumb,”

“Oh, no, you’re not and I don’t blame you. It’s been so long since I stepped foot in here, especially after the campaign and all that shit.” Unconsciously, they started walking back to their spots, she with her arms crossed in front of her chest while he with his hands in his jeans pockets.

“I bet that was a whole rollercoaster ride,”

“It was worse, way worse than what I could have ever expected. Thank God it’s the first and last time I’m doing something like that. I hated it so bad,”

“But where do you think the real struggle lies? In the preparation or when you actually get elected?” He just chuckled at her words, head turning to look at her. 

“Why is everyone so sure we’ll get elected?” 

Her facial expressions anticipated her words, “I mean, I don’t really know much of it but from what I’ve been told, y’all are very influential around here so it’s already been predicted since day one. You wouldn’t want to be elected anyway?”

He sighed, “I don’t know really. I joined only because my friend wanted to do it and I didn’t want to hold her back from it, besides, she was and still is kind of relying on us to be part of her team so...”

They stopped at her spot first as they continued talking. Once Daphne had packed her stuff and wore her jacket, they walked to his spot and she waited for him to get his things before they left together, walking past the handful of people working on their books or their devices and the ones packing their things to leave. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open only to slide back close once they were in and pressed on the number zero. He leaned against the wall facing the doors while she against the one opposite the buttons.

“So… you were studying physics all this while?” he broke the silence. 

“Yeah. I’m in a bit of a crisis right now,”

“So much that you needed so many books?” he laughed and she laughed too, nodding and getting slightly shy. “We’ve done only two tests so far and I failed both of them so yeah… I think I need that many books.” 

Taehyung’s facial expression spoke volumes, going from surprise to confusion all with a smile on and it amused her. “You failed both? Were they so hard?”

“Not necessarily. The second one was easy but I failed it because I didn’t study well since I was focused on the topic of the first one. I don’t even know if I can say that it’s hard. I could be just a dumb person of my own but that shit’s ass and I just don’t get it so yeah, I was studying so much for that one and barely reserved any time for the other one. Ass.” Taehyung laughed, the elevator dinged and they came out.

The ground floor was even emptier. The children's section and the cafeteria were already closed and some cleaners were already sweeping the floors. “Have a good evening,” from their little cubicle, the receptionist greeted them, the teenagers waved back and exited the noise-cancelling building to venture into the blast outside. 

Cars honked and rumbled from the end of the street where the town centre was. Taehyung’s hands were still in his pocket while Daphne held her phone with which she checked what time the bus would arrive at the terminal in front of their school so the two were silently walking next to each other on the sidewalk. 

He didn’t like the silence but he couldn’t lie and say that her distraction wasn’t allowing him to look at her like a kid looks at fireworks on New Year’s night. Around her neck was a thick scarf she tried to hide her face into. The draft had changed direction and was now blowing from the town into the street they walked in. The jacket she was wearing was so big that her hands were barely out. Her nails were covered in cherry red polish and some of her fingers were in golden rings. He couldn’t fully see her side profile despite the small distance between them because her bangs were covering it whenever the breeze didn’t blow harshly. 

“Your physics teacher allows you to retake the tests right?” He spoke first to fill up the space between them.

“Yeah”

“And when are they?”

“Erm, the ass topic one is in two Wednesdays while the easier one is in mid-December.” He internally rejoiced when her phone was slipped back into her pocket and she looked up at him as she spoke. If her eyes liked wandering around, his liked to catch every little detail that brought her face to life. It’s not the first time he’s seen pretty girls, pretty people in general, but it was the first time it had him like this. There was just something about her that he couldn’t just shrug off his shoulders—he didn’t want to anyway.

“Why so far away? When did you take the tests?” As he asked the question, he wondered if silence had run through from when she spoke. Don’t be harsh on him. He recalls that the last he was looking at her face, he lost track of time.

“I don’t know why. The teacher’s an asshole. The first test was above a month ago while the second one was last week. He had a reason only for the first one since almost the whole class failed it,”

“Goddamn! Almost the whole class?” She nodded. Gradually, they made their way out of the library’s street and into town where the closest bus stop was the one after the terminal.

“I think the topic is that hard. I still don’t fully get it and I started studying it intensely before the first test and now I’m locked in even harder.” Taehyung chuckled and waited for them to cross the street and walk onto the bus stop before he spoke again.

“You know? I could help you if you want… with physics” Daphne’s eyes widened for a split second as she sat on the empty bench, hands still in her pocket because of the chilly weather. Even in a thousand light years to come, she’d never be able to put into words what was going on within her guts when he said those words. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, besides, you’re a junior and I’m a senior so I’ve already gone through the topics last year,” As he spoke his back rested against the pillar holding the sheltering surface above his head.

“But I don’t want to bother you. I think you already have enough on your plate,”

“Oh, don’t worry. You’re not bothering me. I’m the one who offered and my plate is pretty wide. Enough is never enough” he chuckled, getting lost in the way the streetlights glittered in her eyes. What enchanted him the most was her smile. Daphne didn’t know the effects it had on him.

She giggled and replied, “If you say so”. His smile broadened and he tried to hold it back by biting his lip but obviously failed. Daphne didn’t have enough time to admire how good he looked, how his hair swayed with the wind, how he was standing or how the tip of his nose was getting redder with the cold before the bus arrived and they had to get on.

Just like that Tuesday evening after training at the school gym, the bus was practically empty and one could only see the reflection of the inside when trying to look outside. As usual, they made a beeline to the back where they could comfortably sit next to each other. She led the way and he meekly followed.

Not surprisingly, Daphne sat right next to the window: He sat right next to her, leaving no empty seats in between. She believed it to be a great change, especially since she hadn’t seen him on the bus for a long time. 

Luckily for them, the heater was on so they could warm up after walking in the chilly environment that was outside. She took her jacket off and he helped her keep it and her bag next to him on the empty seat.

“Anyway, what are the topics?” he restarted. “The first one was about light and the second about sound.”

“Light and sound, huh? Which one do you find hardest to understand?” as he spoke, he leaned back against the headrest, hands still in his pocket, and turned to look at her without the rest of his body budging.

“The first certainly.” He chuckled again. It’s all he’s been doing for the whole while because he didn’t know which other subtle way he could use to express the crazy happiness within his guts. Sorry, he had to let it out somehow. “You got any notes?”

“What? You think I don’t?” as he chuckled, his Adam’s apple bopped. She laughed, shook her head and cleared the misunderstanding, “No, no, that’s not what I meant and you know it,” the way he looked was making her shy. Maybe he could get it, maybe not, but her eyes started wandering around like the ones of a lost puppy again.

“Mmh hmm.” She rolled her eyes and he laughed, head turning back up to face the ceiling.

“When would it start?” There was no need to look outside. A prettier view was right next to her and the contrast between the darkness of the evening and the lights inside made it impossible for her to see anything unless she glued her face to the windows.

“Whenever you want.” He didn’t look at her as he replied this time because he soon had to come down from the bus—he was about to get lost in her sparkling eyes and pretty smile and forget about his other plans.

“Oh, my God. I almost forgot. I’m staying at my friend’s tonight because he’s just in deep shit as I am after the campaign so I’m coming down at the next bus stop.” Thank goodness he remembered ‘cause only God knows how he would’ve had to explain to Jimin why he forgot to go to his place: “So, you see… I was talking to this very pretty girl, you know the new one in town, the one I met at the party and never told you about, the brunette with sparkling eyes, a fine ass body and a deadly but stunning smile? The one in junior year. Yeah, that one. I think I have a crush on her, a huge, fat, no, obese, astronomical, titanic, humongous crush on her, yes, and she drives me crazy, fucking insane so much so I become dumb next to her. Literally dumb. It’s already a lot I can talk to her, form coherent sentences in my head and not slur my words so yeah, that’s why I forgot to come help you. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me.” Would that work? Who knows. Regardless, he would never say it. Not to him at least but certainly to his reflection in the mirror once he gets back home and reminisces this day.

“Oh.” Two simple letters with barely any meaning but they held so much disappointment. Again, the party had to be ended too soon. Why was it always when the two of them were talking? If only he actually caught the tone she spoke with, he would have certainly texted Jimin telling him he couldn’t make it and spend the rest of the ride next to her.

“Here,” he spoke a little while after and let his actions finish the sentence as he placed his phone in front of her. On the screen was a dialling pad. She did everything within her body not to smile like an idiot, took the phone in her hands and typed in her phone number. Smooth like butter.

“Here you go,” maybe he was hallucinating again—which wouldn’t be surprising—but there was something in the way she said that that had him double-checking her for any special facial expressions but, as expected, she didn’t even look his way—wandering eyes—and he smiled before saving her contact. Was it joy? Shyness? He didn’t know. Better not be, not now, else he would literally lose his shit and have the driver stomp on the brake once he’d hear him scream.

“Well, I guess we’ll see each other soon then,” she nodded and watched him as he took his bag, slung it across his shoulder and headed towards the closest door. 

Pressing on the red button, a sound dinged through the bus and moments later, the vehicle stopped and the doors slid open. She waved at him and he waved back right before coming down from the bus at El Grillo’s bus stop. Doors closed and finally, she allowed herself to express some of her happiness by squirming and squealing in her seat. Moments later, when her phone dinged and a notification came in, she’d wish she were at home, on her bed and rolling on it.

Unknown number: you tell me when and we start

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[queen0fm0nsterz]

I was thinking about the old LN1 character bios and remembered the line about the Twins being "born to be chefs". Assuming their not native to Nowhere, this would mean they had some violent tendencies before becoming residents, like it was their destiny.

This then made think about the end of tson ep 3 where Otto says the something like "Our world isn't the only world, let alone the predominant one".

All this made me realize that the worlds other than Nowhere may have been created by it (The Nowhere is implied to be sentient in it's own right) specifically to create concepts and injustices that could be used to warp and traumatize children, turning them into visitors and then into residents.

Thoughts?

Alright so this is a great question that I think leads to a much larger discussion about how the Nowhere operates. I would like to hear what other peeps think as well.

So, starting from the Chefs. Personally I always assumed that they are part of that group of characters who are from the Nowhere because of the way their description is worded (and also their baby pictures... this one is so cute lowkey...)

--- But following your train of thought: considering what we know of the Nowhere, it seems to amplify certain characteristics of a person, usually the bad ones. Two kids who are a bit propense to get into fights in the waking world may very well become blood thirsty maniacs in the Nowhere.

Interestingly, the modification of traits does not only apply to personality but also the body -- and usually, the physical changes are in relation back to said traits. For example, the Teacher - someone who is known to be controlling - can extend her neck infinitely to look everywhere and have the ability to blink removed to make sure she's always watching. The Doctor, a perfectionist with tons of authority, is always looking down on people while also growing enormous to match his ego. So on and so forth, you can follow this reasoning for a large number of the Residents we meet.

I think other timelines derivating from the Nowhere is definitely a possibility, as we don't know much of how the universes work there.

The general theory of a multiverse irl is that no timeline has any specific weight or importance over others; they are all parallel no matter how different, with no timeline being "the real one". This is if we view the Nowhere under the lens of it being a separate dimension. In TSON, the Nowhere is kind of implied to be sucking the people most vulnerable to it right in, so perhaps the idea Otto has of it the predominant world stems from the fact that he can't explain his fascination with it... or from a real, genuine desire to somehow "return" to the original land, if that's where the other timelines originated from.

HOWEVER, I would like to offer an alternative perspective on this --- based on what I found out during my research on the Ladies. Yup we're going there again

Rather than the characters themselves, this time I'm going to refer to a symbolism that is very prominent in their lore: Buddhism. More specifically the references to the six planes of existance, and how those can be tied back to Little Nights in a loose way. As stated in this site:

" The six realms of rebirth are a schema in which beings are reborn according to the kind of life they lived. [...] The animal realm, in which inhabitants are driven by basic needs, is one of the three “lower” realms. The other two are the hell realm, a place of constant suffering and torment, and the realm of the hungry ghosts, grasping beings who are never satisfied. The three “higher” realms are the human realm [...] the demigod realm [...] and the god realm, where beings enjoy a life of pleasure. It’s important to note that some Buddhists view the realms as literally real, while others interpret them psychologically as metaphors for the emotional states of the human condition. "

(Click on the link to read the whole thing; I only highlighted the parts I think are relevant to this conversation :] )

What I believe specifically relates back to the Nowhere are the three lower realms, from which the place itself may be loosely inspired by because of how its inhabitants are described.

All of these are things we see in Little Nights from various Residents, depending on the social class and place. It is important to note that while these realms are placed in different hierarchies due to quality of life, they all cohexist together without necessarily being more important than each other as they all have the same purpose in the end.

If the worlds of Little Nights operate in a similar way, then what we're looking at is not really a case of dimension hopping, but rather a passage from a plane of existance to the next. A forced one at that, at least in the case of Noone.

Now, considering Otto's assumption, the idea of the Nowhere being a predominant realm only popped up because he was trying to wrap his head around it and how Noone felt, but to tell you the truth, it is a rather baseless assumption considering he's never been there and is only experiencing it in a very limited way. However... considering how many children from different places in time and space have experienced the Nowhere, sometimes even simultaneously, I wouldn't say that it's completely wrong to assume that the place might be the "original plane of existance".

Now. Reflecting on what you said at the very end, I would like to ask a question back: do you think the Nowhere is, hypothetically, only capable of bringing out the worst in people inherently? Or is it only acting this way because humanity itself is more easily conditioned to fall victim to their bad traits?

I've been recently thinking about it because of the Maw. The writer of Little Nightmares, Mr. Mervik, has stated multiple times over the years that the place has not always been the way that it is; at the same time, he also said that it was not man made, but rather created by collective hunger/desire to be fed. These two things don't make sense together unless you assume the Maw was not originally born for the Guests and the whole cannibal business, but rather from a desire of shelter. A need to be fed. Which is not inherently a bad thing -- and it would explain why the structure itself is so largely built to house so many people, and why children still feel relatively safe in it to this day.

So I find myself thinking that perhaps, the Maw degenerated overtime because the people inside of it (cough its leaders cough) did. And if this is the case for the Maw, who's to say it's not the same for other places? The Nest, for example? The School, the Hospital... etc. But. It is also true that the creatures who inhabit the Nowhere (the Ferryman, the North Wind, the Flesh...) all seem to have their own interests and destructive amusement more at heart than anything. If these creatures are what move the large of the Nowhere (which I guess they are considering the eye symbol is all over the goddman place), then the human will can't really do much.

That being said, I am wondering currently if it could be possible for the Nowhere to bring out something good from a person in the right situation. At the same time, the hopes are incredibly slim. Nonexistent, actually, but it's nice to think about hypothetics.