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vamptarot · 28 days

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What Is Tarot?

— an educational post

— ⭑.ᐟ I am aware many people have made posts like this before, however I still felt like creating my own take on it. What inspired me was a post where someone stated that tarot is fictional. Which is incredibly incorrect. Being misinformed is of course, fine, but they said it with such utmost arrogance and confidence that it annoyed me a little. If you are misinformed, not even educated on tarot as a whole, what gives you the right to be a tarot reader? You cannot guide people if you, yourself are wrong and have incorrect information and assumptions. That is what I would have liked to tell them, but unfortunately due to my then circumstances I did not. I also would like to follow the word of God, and He says to act with love, not hatred. So, instead of calling them out and possibly causing an unnecessary argument, I have decided to educate those who might be curious or confused about what tarot actually is as a whole. It’s your choice if you read this or not. I also won’t go into themes of religion, this will strictly be focused on tarot. I just wanted to share what’s on my mind. not proof read.

what is tarot?

Actually, my dearest, tarot was created in the 1430s - 1450s and was first called tarocchi. It’s a game similar to bridge.

They were created in Northern Italy, Milan. Although at the time it was a game, it was still considered a luxury. The cards were hand painted for wealthy people, not necessarily due to them finding joy in it, but rather to reflect their status. It was a symbol of being wealthy.

Although nowadays the standard of a tarot deck is 78 cards it started off with 56 cards, from which the fool was the odd one out, a wild card. - If you have a hard time understanding, think of the joker card from solitaire. -

It was only used as a form of divination at the beginning of the 18th century, aka the 1700s.

Now, there are several reasons whys this has happened, but I will try my best to explain it to you in simple terms. - Although I won’t be able to go into every detail as these topics are very complex and have a rich history behind them, so please keep that in mind. -

In the early 1700s French occultists made claims about their meaning and history. They were confident in their skills, abilities and knowledge. Due to them grabbing people’s attention this led to people making custom cards for the usage of cartomancy.

At these times Romani and Sinti people were heavily discriminated against. They weren’t allowed to settle, work, buy a house and were banned from most public spaces including ones where one can buy food and such. All because they originated from India. So, as a means to keep alive they turned to earning money with divination, creating opportunities for themselves in order to live.

Another reason for tarot in a form of divination becoming popular is due to conservative Christian’s spreading the misinformation of it being related to Kabbalah, the Jewish mystical tradition. Of course, that is not true, never was and never will be. However, they are said to have some parallels. That is as far as it goes though.

Now, you could be thinking to yourself, ‘if it was a game, then it’s not a real divination.’ You are wrong! Let me explain to you why!

Remember how I mentioned that originally it had 56 cards and was named tarocchi? It also originated in the 15th century. The tarot you know of today began in the 18th century, got popular in the 19th century. There is roughly about 300 years between the two events and tarot has evolved for 100 years. So one can argue they are completely different things. Even if they are not, that’s alright.

Objects created for non divination usage can still be used for divination despite the creator’s intent. I will present you with a few examples of this fact.

Some people use their passed on pet’s bones as a form of osteomancy. You throw em, if they touch it’s a yes, if they don’t it’s a no. Sounds pretty messed up, right? For some people at least, can’t guarantee everyone thinks the same. Regardless, that was a living being, a beloved pet. Yet, you can use it’s bones in order to practice spirituality.

If you watch youtube pick a cards this will be easier to understand, regardless, charms can be used as a form of divination. You draw different categories on a paper, throw charms at them, whatever it falls on will have a meaning to your question. Money charms on ‘future spouse’? They might as well be wealthy, or at least good with their money.

Or, if that’s not good enough think about witchcraft. You think every single little thing used for spells, jars, hexes and so on was created for the sole purpose of witchcraft? It wasn’t. Yet it works because it’s intentional, because the person doing them has talent for it, because they were gifted.

how do readers read tarot cards?

I will be honest with you, not all readers are gifted with being able to do so, but they sure believe they do. - Am I saying this out of pettiness? Perhaps, let me be. -

So, if you feel like something is off such as beating around the bush, being too nice, being too mean and so on please trust your gut. Not telling you to be mean to people or accuse them unprovoked, that’s something an @sshole does, and I know you are not one. - Watch out for AI readings though, they suck. -

Moving on, I would like to say that every single tarot reader reads their cards differently. Some only do by visuals, some only does so by meaning, some do by both!

Alongside this, every reader shuffles differently. Some let the cards fall out, some take whatever is on top, some take whatever is standing out of the deck, some let them fall and then organise them neatly.

There is many ways to do this. I personally let them fall out and consider both visuals and meanings simply because I believe that is the right thing to do. - One time, during a love reading they fell out in a heart. I thought that’s cute. - At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter much. I have had several friends with different methods than me give me really good and accurate readings. - Just be catious of people who spread it out and then pick the cards out themselves. -

The most important part is being gifted with claircognizance, or in other words having hella good intuition. - or “6th sense”, whatever you wanna call it. - I believe every reliable and accurate reader is gifted with this, regardless of them being aware or not. You can’t read tarot if you don’t understand what spirit is trying to tell you, let that be your own guides or anyone else’s. Perhaps even your tarot deck.

Often times though, this is not the only thing readers rely on. For instance, I have clairaudience, clairvoyance and clairtypity. I can hear, see and feel what you would during whatever situation I read for you. This is not unique to me at all, every reader has at least one of these, and usually several. I even saw people with clairgustance and clairalience! They can taste and smell what you would! Isn’t that awesome?~ I personally think it’s fascinating, it’s not something that I have ever experienced. It’s cool that there are people out there who can do this.

So, tarot readers read your situation with the help of your spirit guides and their own spiritual gifts that they carry within themselves. As for habits and methods, it varies from person to person.

That is a reason why so many different tarot decks exist! Different people are called to different things. - Plus it’s cool -

how do tarot readings work?

This is the main reason why this post was made.. let’s get into it.

You already know how readers guide you, so I will tell you how do the readings themselves work. What else are they based on. Honestly, the best way I will be able to tell this to you is with examples, so that’s what I will do. Maybe someone else can tell you in a much more detailed and specific manner, but I am not them.

Tarot always reads your current energy. You can look into the past with it, but regardless it reads your current state of mind, thoughts, views, feelings and behaviours.

If you read a pick a card or personal reading that is based on the future - ex.; future spouse - then it will still read on your current energy.

For example let’s say you ask ‘when will I meet my future spouse?’ but you stay inside all day, then it will obviously be a few years or so. However, if the next day you decide to go out more or just put yourself out there in the world more and actually commit to it this can reduce to months.

If it’s a reading on your past then the cards will pick up on what still impacts you, whether you are aware of it or not. Let’s say you ask about your first kiss, how will it be like? Your cards could say that it won’t be as romantic as you think because this and that situation still impacts you.

I sincerely hope that you get the point, as I did my best to explain it.

Yet, there is still a question, ‘if someone is talented, why did that one reading turn out inaccurate?’ well because things change my dear.

If you were to ask me now about the appearance of your future spouse I could say they have brown hair and be correct, but they could go ahead and dye it red 15 minutes after I said that.

Things change constantly all the time and there is nothing we can do about it. That’s just life. It’s hard to hear, it’s hard to swallow, but it’s something we have to accept at some point in time. We can control some things, but not everything.

Change is inevitable.

There is good sides of it, and there is bad. You just gotta live and let others do the same.

Now, for pick a cards it’s slightly different. Maybe, genuinely, something is just not meant for you and you are just meant to ignore that. Maybe it’s for the blond teen in Canada who is asking about that one cute boy in her class. If you read a pick a card reading that is accurate but there is that one thing that doesn’t make sense, consider that means something to someone else. It’s not a personal reading.

That is why disclaimers like ‘take it with a grain of salt’ and ‘leave what doesn’t resonate’ exist. Yes, some people take advantage of it and that’s bad, but they were created with a good reason.

end note.

That is all I wanted to say, I believe. Although I made this post to get something bothersome off my mind I sincerely wish that someone out there has found it useful. My goal was truly to educate so if you know who the OP of the claim was just ignore them. Hating on people for enjoyment is not only immature but is going to have a negative effect on your body, mind and soul. Which I would not like. Please take care of yourselves! Thank you for reading.

#I made this out of pure spite #tarot #tarotblr #tarot community #tarot commissions #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot blog #tarot decks #free tarot reading #paid tarot #spirituality #free tarot #astroblr #paid readings #pick a card #pick a picture #astro community #astrology

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iongwaiyi · 2 months

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我的阿勒泰 To The Wonder : An Analyzation of Humanity (Part 1)

哈薩克文化裡，人與人之間產生友情或者愛情，是由於被看見，所以在哈薩克語中，我喜歡你意思是我清楚地看見你。

In Kazakhstan culture, in order for individuals to develop a friendship or a relationship, they need to be seen, that is why, "i like you" means "i can see you clearly" in Kazakh.

"To The Wonder" is a Chinese show that tells the story of Li Wenxiu, a Han girl from Altay, whose dream is to become a writer in Beijing, thinking that with it's rich culture, she would be able to write good stories. She returns home after a failed job, decided to settle down and work at her mother's store, along the way, she met Kazakh boy Batay, and built friendships with other residents, as well as discovering the beauty of Altay.

As a fellow Chinese, I would like to take the opportunity to make not only an appreciation about this wonderful show that got an impressive score of 8.1/10 on IMDB, but specifically an analyzation of humanity as reflected by the characters (Zhang Fengxia, Gao Xiaoliang, Li Wenxiu, and Tuoken)

As the mother of Li Wenxiu, losing her husband is one of the only things that Zhang Fengxia truly cannot let go of. Numbing herself with alcohol every night, reminiscing the memories between her and her late husband, but whenever her daughter asks about it, she avoids the topic and claims that she does not miss her late husband. In reality, deep in her heart, she not only deeply misses him, but she longs for love, a deep connection with someone.

When Gao Xiaoliang came along one day, she was blinded by her longing, diving headfirst into a relationship with him, claiming that he was sent by her late husband. There is no wrong in that, as humans, we all have an innate longing and want for love. However, when she realized everything that Gao Xiaoliang did was only an act, she allowed herself to grief what they had, what she thought they had, and sat with her emotions, quickly picking herself up after and moving forward with life.

In my opinion, that was truly the most touching yet heartbreaking moment in the show. Unfolding the complexity of the human heart, as well as demonstrating the strong will that humans are capable of - to live, to move on, to move forward with life despite the amount of times our hearts have been trampled all over.

一個男人跑了就跑了嘛！我們離了婚也不丢人的，男人没了，再找一個嘛

Most audiences think Gao Xiaoliang is a bad person, lying to Zhang Fengxia about his true intentions, earning her trust and leaving her behind, and lying to Li Wenxiu when they were working together in Urumqi. But that's the thing about humanity, there is never an exact definition of what's good or bad. Just because someone did something doesn't make them a bad person. In order to understand him truly, we need to look at the character from their perspective.

Being robbed when he first got to Xinjiang, losing everything he's worked for and truly losing directions in life; decided to hold on to Zhang Fengxia as his last resort, but seizing the opportunity of earning money because that's his priority in life - to earn money.

Blinded by his want for an adequate life, for money, he lied to Zhang Fengxia and left her behind, he negotiated with his boss to get Li Wenxiu's severance pay, but only giving her the 1/3 that he actually received. Yes, he may seem like the villain to the protagonists, but that would be an unfair statement to his character as a whole. Did he want to settle down with Zhang Fengxia? Yes. Did he give Li Wenxiu some of the pay when he could've kept all of it to himself? Yes.

But at the end of the day, as humans, we all get blinded by certain things, we all have our own wants and may do anything in our power to "seize the moment". Actions that we commit don't define us, who we are, because we have to understand that humans are complex and there is no "black-and-white" to us. All these actions only added to the depth of the character and our sympathy for what he went through, and how he got to the point where he was mad.

我出人頭地了，你出人頭地了嗎？

#my altay #to the wonder #chinese #movie review #tv shows #writing #thoughts #words

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a-court-of-fics-and-errors · 4 months

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Keep Moving Forwards, Part 33

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Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 5.4K

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t. Please be aware this chapter mentions miscarriage and the loss of a child.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

You weren’t sure if it was the soft rustle of the wind through the curtains or the gentle gurgles and whines from across the room that woke you. Either way, you were awake. The room was bathed in moonlight, casting silver beams that danced on the hardwood floor. You took a deep breath, feeling the cool night air on your skin, as the small whimpers began to crescendo into louder cries.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you heard stirring beside you, a warm arm tightening around your midsection before loosening again with a soft, sleepy grumble. Azriel’s warmth radiated through the blankets. You threw them back, the fabric cool against your skin, and swung your feet to the floor, feeling the smooth chill of the hardwood under your soles.

Rubbing your eyes with the heel of your hand, you listened to the cries, now insistent.. Azriel groaned softly, turning over in bed as you stood up. “I’ve got it,” you murmured, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. His eyes fluttered open, half-lidded with sleep, and he nodded, a small, appreciative smile tugging at his lips before he settled back into the pillows. The rustle of the sheets whispered as he adjusted, the soft rise and fall of his breathing steadying.

You crossed the room, each step a quiet creak on the wooden floor, the coolness seeping through the thin fabric of your nightgown. Moonlight streamed in through the tall windows of the Town House, casting delicate patterns on the walls, illuminating the path to the small bassinet in the corner. The tiny mobile of stars and moons above it spun lazily, catching the light and casting faint, twinkling reflections across the walls.

As you approached the bassinet, the crying softened. You leaned over, the soft sound of your breath mingling with the night’s quiet hum. The tiny face inside gazed up at you with wide, tear-filled eyes, glistening in the moonlight. Their cheeks were flushed, small fists flailing against the light blue mattress, and their delicate wings tucked securely into the soft sleep suit. A tender smile touched your lips as you cooed softly, “Hey there, little one. What’s wrong?”

You reached into the bassinet, your fingers lightly tracing the baby’s cherub cheeks. Their cries turned into softer whimpers, tiny legs kicking and feet wriggling, the small movements rustling the fabric beneath them. The babe turned towards your touch, their mouth opening and closing in search of comfort, a hungry cry you realized.

“Okay, okay,” you crooned, your voice a gentle lullaby. You leaned over, scooping the baby into your arms with practiced care, feeling the weight of their small body settle against you. You were careful not to catch on the delicate wings, nestled securely against their back. The warmth of her body pressed against your chest, and you felt her tiny heart beating, a fluttering rhythm that seemed to sync with your own.

One hand patted their small rear, the rhythmic motion calming and steady, while the other cradled their head, the silky beginnings of black curls tickling your fingers. You swayed back and forth, a slow, gentle dance. The babe’s whimpers subsided slightly, replaced by small, hiccuping breaths as she nestled into your embrace, her tiny fingers grasping at the fabric of your top.

Your eyes, shadowed with fatigue, fought against the heavy pull of sleep as you crossed the threshold of the bedroom. The cool air of the summer night sent a slight shiver through your body, but it did little to dampen the warmth radiating from the tiny bundle nestled in your arms.

You moved to the glider, its soft creak a familiar comfort as you settled into it. You positioned yourself with care, every movement slow and deliberate as you adjusted the babe. Your loose top fell open easily, the fabric cool against your skin, as you guided your newborn to your breast. She latched immediately, her tiny mouth instinctively finding its place.

Your head fell back against the glider, closing your eyes just for a moment, savoring the quiet. The rhythmic motion of the chair, coupled with the steady suckling, lulled you with its soft cadence. You opened your eyes, taking in the soft glow of the moonlight casting a pale blue hue over the room.

From the bed, Azriel propped himself up onto his elbow, his silhouette outlined in the dim light as he watched the two of you nestled in the oversized chair. His eyes, though struggling to stay open, marveled at the two of you. His two girls.

Your own eyes fluttered to him at the sound of his shifting. You turned your head slightly, your gaze meeting him in the dim light. “Did we wake you?” Your voice, soft and apologetic.

“No,” Azriel whispered, his voice a low murmur. He sat up, the blankets rustling softly as he moved to the edge of the bed, his large wings stretching slightly behind him, casting gentle shadows on the walls. “Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You smiled, tired but warm. “We’re okay,” you said, your hand moving to stroke the babe’s cheek as she fed. “Just… tired. And hungry, apparently.” You gazed down at the small face, her long lashes laying over her cheeks as she fed.

Azriel stood, his bare feet making no sound on the carpet as he crossed the room. He knelt beside the glider, his hand reaching out to rest gently on your knee. “You’re remarkable,” he murmured, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin. “She’s lucky to have you.” His gaze shifted to the tiny babe, whose delicate wings fluttered faintly with each small suckle.

A soft laugh escaped your lips, a gentle release of tension as you leaned your head back against the chair, eyes closing briefly. “I feel like a mess,” you admitted.

Azriel’s hand moved to cup your cheek, lifting your face so he could meet your eyes, his touch tender and reassuring. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered softly, the words a gentle caress. “Even when you’re exhausted.”

You leaned into his warm touch. “So are you,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel chuckled lightly, the sound a soft purr. “What are you talking about? I’m wide awake,” he joked.

The babe’s eyes flickered open as she released from your breast, her tiny hand curling against your skin in a gesture that felt both instinctual and achingly precious. You shifted her gently, adjusting your top and lifting her to your shoulder.

Azriel stood, his hands gentle and steady as he reached out for the newborn in your arms, his movements filled with tender care. “I’ve got her,” he said softly. “You should get some sleep.”

You pressed a tender kiss to the baby’s temple, your lips brushing against the soft skin. The scent of cedar and lemongrass, mingled with the fresh, newness of baby skin, filled your senses. You breathed in deeply, savoring it, letting the simple, sweet fragrance envelop you.

You nodded, too tired to protest as Azriel gently scooped the little one from you, resting her against his shoulder. You rose slowly, legs trembling as you stretched and made your way back to the soft embrace of the bed. Yet, you couldn’t resist the pull to glance over your shoulder, pausing to watch Azriel with your daughter.

In the glow of the moonlight, you saw him cross the room to the window, the pale beams of light casting a silver halo around him. The small, precious bundle cradled against his shoulder seemed almost ethereal, her tiny form bathed in the soft luminescence. Azriel’s large hand supported her head, his movements careful and deliberate as he began to sway in a soothing rhythm.

Azriel’s eyes, dark and soft in the dim light, were fixed on the city streets outside, the distant lights twinkling like stars. His lips moved softly, whispering to your daughter, the words so quiet that even your fae ears couldn’t catch them. The little female squirmed slightly in his arms, her tiny fists brushing against her cheeks, but she soon settled against Azriel’s bare chest, her head nestling into the crook of his neck. You watched as she relaxed, her body conforming to the warmth and safety of her father’s embrace.

You watched the two of them, Azriel swaying gentle with the babe in his arms. You could see the slight rise and fall of your daughter’s back with each breath, her tiny hand curling and uncurling against Azriel’s chest. She let out a soft gurgle, a small sound of contentment that brought a tender smile to Azriel’s lips. His hand moved from patting to slow circles on her back, a calming, rhythmic gesture that seemed to ease both father and daughter.

Azriel turned slightly, his gaze catching yours as you stood by the bed. Your eyes met, and in that moment, no words were needed.

Finally, you allowed yourself to sink back onto the bed, your body melting into the mattress as you pulled the blanket to your chin. Your eyes remained fixed on Azriel and the tiny one held to his chest. His strong, muscular shoulders shifted gently back and forth, the steady sway a lullaby in motion. His nose pressed into her tiny curls, breathing in the innocence and purity of her scent. Azriel shifted his gaze to her face, his eyes softening further as he whispered to her, his voice a gentle caress against the night.

“You’re safe,” he murmured, his voice a soft promise that echoed in the stillness. “Daddy’s got you.” His lips pressed a gentle kiss into the top of her head, sealing the vow with a touch as light as a feather.

In a blip, the scene shifted, jarring you from the serene haze. The sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting deceptive warmth. You blinked your eyes open, the morning light stabbing into your consciousness. Groggily, you reached out across the bed for the comforting presence of the warm body next to you. Instead, your hand plunged into an unrecognizable warmth—a thick, sticky wetness.

You recoiled in horror, flipping over to see the other side of the bed drenched in a dark, ominous red. Blood, so copious it pooled in grotesque puddles on the sheets, its metallic tang already saturating the air. Your heart lurched into your throat, a scream clawing its way up your chest as you bolted upright. Muscles strained and protested against the abrupt movement, but the pain was a distant echo compared to the terror gripping your senses.

Your gaze snapped across the room, fixating on the bassinet where a monstrous, shadowy figure loomed. It reached into the cradle, from which a heart-wrenching wail pierced the air..

“Stop!” you screamed, the word tearing from your throat, but your feet felt as if they were submerged in cement. Despite your desperate struggle to move, you could only watch, helpless and paralyzed. Your baby’s tiny arms flailed in a futile attempt to fend off the figure, the cries intensifying with each second.

Caelum’s voice slithered through the air, malevolent and cold, “Such innocence.”

A chilling paralysis gripped you, every muscle frozen in place, your breath a strangled whisper.

“Who would have thought something as vile as you could create something so innocent and pure,” he crooned, the words laced with venom.

The invisible ropes tightened around your body, constricting like a serpent. You fought to breathe, to scream, but your lungs felt emptied, your voice lost in the terror.

Caelum turned slowly towards you, your daughter held in his hands like a broken doll. Her terrified wails echoed in the suffocating silence. His eyes, glinting with cruel satisfaction, bore into yours. “You used to dream of our babe,” he whispered, his tone twisted with a mockery that made your skin crawl. “I used to see myself in them.”

Your knees buckled, and you crashed to the floor, the impact sending shockwaves through your body. The struggle to scream, to move, rendered you voiceless, your muscles locked in a futile rebellion. Caelum ignored your agony, his gaze fixated on the infant in his grasp.

“You have no idea how enraged it makes me,” he hissed, voice dripping with fury, “to see you with another male, flaunting what should have been mine. And now, you force me to look at this... thing you created with someone else. Something that was supposed to be ours.”

Your head hit the cold, unforgiving floor, and as your vision blurred with tears, you glimpsed a horrifying sight at the foot of the bed. Azriel’s hand, scarred and motionless, lay limply, reaching out as if in a final, desperate attempt. Blood pooled around him, dark and thick, a ghastly river flowing from his lifeless form.

“You know,” Caelum’s voice turned eerily conversational, “in nature, male lions kill the cubs of other males, even if they have the female in their pride.” He took a slow, deliberate step towards the door, each footfall a thud against your sanity. “Funny how instincts go across species.” He chuckled, a sinister sound that sent shivers down your spine.

Your babe’s cries turned to choked, frantic wails, each one a dagger through your heart. Her screams for her mother, her father, cut through the air like a razor, while you lay there, suffocating under invisible restraints. Every muscle strained in vain, your eyes fixed on Azriel’s lifeless hand, your soul shattering into a thousand pieces with every heartbeat.

The scene around you felt surreal, a nightmarish distortion of reality. The warm summer air became a cold, suffocating vice, the once-familiar room twisted into a tableau of horror.

As Caelum’s laughter echoed and the darkness threatened to consume you, the sight of Azriel's hand—so close, yet so painfully out of reach—anchored you in a despair so deep it felt endless. Your world narrowed to that solitary image, the lifeline slipping away.

—

Your eyes snapped open as a gasp caught in your throat, chest heaving as you tried to steady your breath. The dim light of your room in the House of Wind gradually sharpened into focus. Instinctively, your head turned toward the corner where the bassinet had been in your dream. But all that stood there now was the sitting chair, a silent sentinel in the shadows. You exhaled, sitting up and squeezing your eyes shut, trying to regain your composure. Drops of sweat trickled down your back, the sheets beneath you damp and cool against your skin.

It was the same nightmare you’d been having for weeks. Each night, you were lulled into the false comfort of its beginning, only to be shattered by its horrific end. Azriel stirred beside you, murmuring softly in his sleep. The initial panic that had once woken you with screams had been replaced by a silent, choking dread. Normally, Azriel—or perhaps his shadows—would sense the shift and wake, ready to comfort you. But tonight, he remained asleep, his breaths deep and steady.

You felt a pang of guilt at the thought of waking him again. Each time you had explained the nightmare to him, you had only shared that Caelum had killed him in your dream. You had kept the part about the imagined child—a phantom of your subconscious—buried deep within, feeling it was too intimate, too strange to confess, especially as you and Azriel were only a month into exploring this new found fondness of each other.

Rhysand had suggested, after speaking with you, that the repetitive nature of the dream likely stemmed from the single instance when Caelum broke through your mental barriers. The residual fear in your subconscious had taken root, replaying the nightmare over and over as you struggled to process the terror. It was a small comfort to know Caelum wasn’t actively infiltrating your mind. Yet, the fact that your own fears were tormenting you, and by extension disrupting Azriel’s sleep, filled you with an uneasy guilt and shame.

You gently pushed the covers aside and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, your feet finding the cool, smooth floor. Moving quietly, you crossed the room to the bathing area. Only after closing the door behind you did you allow yourself to raise the lights, the soft glow illuminating the marble and tiles, casting long shadows.

The silence of the night wrapped around you like a shroud, each breath you took amplified in the stillness. You leaned against the cool stone of the counter, trying to ground yourself in the present, to shake off the lingering tendrils of the nightmare. You looked up at yourself in the mirror, your hair plastered to your forehead from sweat, the underneath of your eyes darkened and purple as you took a few deep breaths.

You ran a trembling hand over your face, pushing back your hair and tying it with the ribbon you kept from Anthea, its familiar touch a small comfort. Rolling your head back, you inhaled the cool air deeply, seeking calm. Your neck ached slightly as you lowered your head again, letting your breath settle as you turned the tap on. The cold water flowed down your wrists and through your fingertips, a sharp but refreshing sensation against your clammy skin.

You knew sleep wouldn’t come easily for the rest of the night; it never did after this particular nightmare. With a sigh, you turned off the tap and glanced towards the shower, debating whether the squeal of the faucet would wake Azriel. The lingering tremors from your nightmare made the decision for you, and you decided it was worth the risk.

Twisting the handle, the shower sputtered to life with a sharp squeal, the initial burst of water icy against your hand. You flinched but waited as it gradually warmed, steam curling up from the spray like tendrils of a comforting embrace. You peeled your damp sleeping gown from your skin, letting it drop to the floor, and stepped under the stream.

Cupping your hands to your chest, you allowed the water to pool there, feeling its warmth spread against your heart, which still raced as if you were being chased. You closed your eyes, letting the mist speckle your face, breathing in the wet, heavy air that wrapped around you. The hot water traced down your skin, the heat sending a shiver down your spine as it rinsed away the cold grip of fear.

Your body began to unwind, the tension in your muscles releasing with each passing moment. The aching in your joints from being coiled like a spring started to ease as you stepped fully into the spray. The water drenched your hair, plastering it to your neck and back, while you leaned your head forward, wrapping your hands around the back of it. The strain in your breath lessened, and your eyes rolled back slightly as the steam enveloped you, warming you from the outside in.

Time slipped away in the soothing cascade of water. Minutes or perhaps an hour might have passed, but it mattered little. The shower was a sanctuary, the rhythmic patter of water against your skin a lullaby, slowly washing away the remnants of your nightmare. You stood there, allowing the warmth to seep into your bones, feeling each drop cleanse and comfort you, as the night's terror began to ebb away.

When your fingers finally became pruny, and your skin reddened from the constant wash, you turned off the shower, the water trickling down your body in cooling rivulets. You stepped out, reaching for a towel as the last droplets fell from your hair. Catching your reflection in the mirror, you paused. Scars crisscrossed your body like a grim map of your past—gashes, burns, breaks, all remnants of battles and betrayals you wished you could forget.

You traced the scar that ran up your side, from your hip to your ribs, its raised, paler texture standing out against your skin. Kai used to trace that very scar, running his finger along it as he lay his head on your chest, a comforting ritual you had once cherished. But no one had touched it since.

Your hips bore their own marks, indentations left by cruel hands that had gripped too tightly. Your thumb brushed over these scars, feeling the jagged memories beneath your skin. What would Azriel think of these reminders, these echoes of the life you lived? Caelum’s venomous promises whispered in your mind—that Azriel would tire of you, see these scars as symbols of brokenness rather than strength. The fear gnawed at you, a shadow of doubt lingering despite Azriel’s constant reassurance.

You tore your gaze away from the mirror, the fogged glass distorting your reflection into something almost unrecognizable. Grabbing a towel, you rubbed it through your hair, feeling the coarse fabric soak up the water. The House had thoughtfully placed a pair of linen pants and a soft sweater on the counter. You smiled faintly, your fingers brushing over the familiar, comforting cloth.

After dressing quietly, you turned off the lights in the bathing room and gently opened the door, holding the handle to keep it from creaking. The room remained silent except for the deep, rhythmic breaths of Azriel. His form lay still under the sheets, the rise and fall of his shoulders and wings the only sign of life.

You tiptoed out, a few of his shadows playfully swirling around your feet before dispersing as you shut the door. The hallway lights were dimmed, casting a soft glow as you wandered, aimless but in need of movement. You drifted through the corridors, the moonlight filtering through the tall windows, casting ghostly patterns on the marble floors. The paintings on the walls and the elegant furnishings collected by Nesta from various courts passed by in a blur.

In the kitchen, you opened cabinets and drawers, searching for a snack or dessert, but nothing seemed to appeal. Your appetite had been left behind in the turmoil of your thoughts.

Rounding a corner into another long, marbled hallway, you saw a light emanating from the library. Nesta sat curled up on a couch, the tips of her toes peeking out from her nightgown. Her hair was unraveled, tousled from sleep, and a book lay open in her lap, her fingers lightly tracing edges of the pages as her eyes flicked over them.

You stood just outside the doorway, gazing into the softly lit library where Nesta sat, absorbed in her book. Without lifting her eyes, she called out, “Can’t sleep?”

You took a few tentative steps in. “No, unfortunately.”

Nesta finished her page, placing a red ribbon in the spine to mark her spot before shutting the book and tossing it onto the ottoman in front of her. She patted the couch beside her, a small, inviting smile on her lips. “Appears I’m in good company then.”

You crossed the room, the thick carpet muffling your steps. Nestling into the couch beside her, you pulled a throw pillow into your lap, fingers idly tugging at one of the tassels.

“Dreams?” Nesta asked, resting her elbow on the couch’s arm and turning to face you, her eyes soft with understanding.

You nodded, a slight frown creasing your forehead. “You?”

Nesta exhaled softly. “Just can’t sleep. Feeling a bit nauseous.”

Concern flickered across your face. “Can I get you anything?”

She shook her head, her smile gentle as she looked down, twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger. “It’s alright. Thanks, though.”

Silence settled over the room, not uncomfortable but peaceful, a shared moment of quiet in the stillness of the night. After a few minutes, you broke the silence. “How’s Cass?”

Nesta scoffed lightly, letting the strand of hair fall from her fingers. “Busy. As usual.” She glanced at you. “Azriel?”

“Busy,” you replied, a slight smile tugging at your lips. In truth, Azriel had been doing his best to be home every evening, splitting his time between his duties at various Illyrian war camps and making sure he had dinner with you each night. Despite your assurances that you didn’t need the coddling, his efforts to balance his responsibilities and be there for you were wearing on him. Your gaze drifted to Nesta, who seemed lost in thought, staring into the room. “How do you manage Cassian’s job?”

Nesta’s brows knitted together slightly in curiosity. “How do you mean?”

You looked away, your eyes unfocused, lost in your own thoughts. “Knowing he could be in danger.”

Nesta pursed her lips, her expression thoughtful. “I don’t think I manage it well,” she admitted. “I worry. I coddle. I’m constantly sending him messages down the bond, harassing him, really. But in the end, I just trust he knows what he’s doing.”

She paused, her eyes distant for a moment before she turned back to you, her gaze steady and reassuring. “It’s not easy, knowing the risks they take. But I’ve learned to have faith in his abilities, to trust that he’ll come back to me. It’s a balance between worry and trust, and some days, one outweighs the other. But I also try to remember that the times when he puts himself in danger, he only does to make sure everyone else stays safe.” Nesta’s gaze flicked to you. “It’s complicated.”

You merely nodded, still staring into the empty air, your gaze lost in the darkness beyond.

Nesta’s hand gently settled on yours, her touch a steadying presence. “It takes time,” she said softly, her eyes scanning your face, searching for a reaction. Your response was minimal, just a slight shift in your expression. “I think it helps that I know how to take care of myself. A sense of independence.”

Your heart seemed to freeze over. All you had ever tried to do was protect yourself, yet every attempt felt like it ended in failure. Even in your dreams, there was no fighting back, no sense of independence or self-defense. But Nesta was a warrior, honed in battle, with almost half a century of training and fighting alongside her mate. There was a trust built by seeing each other in action, something you felt you could never achieve. You forced a half-smile, trying to shake off the sting of inadequacy.

“I’m sure it also helps that you’re a skilled fighter,” you chuckled, though the laughter didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Nesta’s lips curved into a faint smile. “That does have its benefits.”

Your gaze fell to the floor again, the weight of your thoughts pressing down. “Do you ever worry about having children? About them growing up as targets?”

Nesta's breath caught in her throat, her hand tightening slightly on yours. “Why?” she asked, a bit too quickly. You turned to look at her, confusion etched across your features.

“I just—” you stammered, “I figured you and Cassian would have kids someday.”

Nesta seemed to relax, her shoulders dropping as she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Oh,” she said, her body visibly easing. She chewed her bottom lip before letting out a breathy laugh. “I think that growing up with the Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death as parents will certainly keep them safe enough. And my desire for a family of my own is worth the concern.”

You continued to fiddle with the tassels on the pillow, one thread coming loose between your fingers. “So, you want children?”

Nesta, almost absentmindedly, placed a delicate hand on her abdomen. “More than anything.” Your eyes traced her movement discreetly, noticing how her thumb gently traced over her stomach. She caught herself and quickly pulled her hand back, resting it on the back of the couch.

“Nesta,” you began, your voice gentle, “are you doing alright?”

“Mm?” she murmured, her eyes drifting back to the library’s dim interior.

“You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn’t you?” you probed.

Nesta turned to you, a tight smile on her lips. “Of course.”

“So, how long have you been pregnant?” you asked softly.

Nesta's eyes widened, her face paling slightly. “What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if the words themselves were too fragile to be spoken aloud.

You met Nesta’s gaze, a knowing smile forming as she stumbled over her words. “It’s okay,” you reassured her gently. “I haven’t said anything.”

“How—” she started, her eyes widening in surprise, “how did you know?”

Placing a comforting hand on hers, you chuckled softly. “Other than the fact that you’ve been excusing yourself from dinner early every night, sleeping at odd hours, can’t stand the scent of Cassian and Azriel after training, and making Cassian strip his armor off before he even steps inside, you’ve been ‘getting sick’ a lot, and your gowns have been getting looser,�� you said, using your fingers to air-quote the last part. “Not to mention you’ve picked a fight with Cassian over every little thing this last month.” You chuckled again, shaking your head.

Nesta’s mouth opened and closed, struggling to find her words. “I guessed it at the Autumn Ball,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

She bit her lip, her eyes darting down to her hands. “I didn’t want to tell anyone until I was sure.”

Your smile widened, filling with warmth. “How far along are you?”

Nesta’s hand instinctively went to her stomach, her fingers tracing gentle circles. “About four months, give or take. I just got the time estimate last week.”

“Congratulations,” you whispered, your voice full of genuine joy.

Nesta looked down, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Thanks. I just—” She hesitated, her eyes avoiding yours. “I should have told everyone sooner. I’m sure everyone knows by now.”

You shook your head, your brow furrowing slightly. “No, I don’t think anyone suspects anything.”

Nesta glanced up at you, her expression a mix of uncertainty and relief. “I mean, I guess I should probably tell Cass.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “He doesn’t know?” you exclaimed, more statement than question.

She shook her head lightly, her voice tinged with sadness. “I’ve lost babes in the past. Every time we’ve conceived, he’s been so excited, over the moon. And I thought if I lost this one too, I couldn’t handle seeing his hurt. So I wanted to wait until we were farther along.”

Your heart ached for her, and you squeezed her hand, your voice a gentle whisper. “Nesta, I’m so sorry.”

Nesta smiled tightly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It just wasn’t the right time.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” you murmured, guilt flickering in your eyes.

She shook her head, her gaze meeting yours with a softness you hadn’t seen before. “No, no. I’m actually glad someone knows. It’s been… really hard, keeping this to myself.”

Your face softened with empathy. “I’m sure.”

Nesta sighed, her eyes drifting to the floor. “Well, not hard keeping it from Cass. Given he hasn’t been around much.”

“Nesta, you need to tell him,” you urged gently.

She nodded, her eyes distant. “I will. Next time he’s home, I will.”

You debated pushing her to tell him sooner, to demand she reach out and bring him home, but you knew this wasn’t your place. The way Nesta handled this was her decision entirely. So instead, you just squeezed her hand, offering your silent support. “I’m really happy for you,” you said sincerely.

Nesta smiled at you again, her eyes shimmering with emotion. “I just hope it takes.”

You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, your heart swelling with joy for your friend. But even as you felt happiness for her, a pang of longing shot through you, the image of that tiny winged babe from your dreams lingering in your mind. Your body seemed to yearn for her, a silent ache that echoed in the quiet moments between breaths. And more than that, you thought of the male lying in your bed—the one who had promised to stand by you through everything, who had begged you to live, to thrive. As his words echoed in your heart, the darkness within you, the beast that threatened to swallow you whole, seemed to shrink away a bit more. His unwavering presence and tender reassurances filled the void, making the shadows recede just a little, bringing warmth where there had been cold. For one second, you considered the life you might still get to have, where perhaps that tiny winged babe would exist. And you smiled faintly, only to yourself.

Readers, please fasten your seatbelts:

Readers, always in my heart: @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardust @romantasyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @skylarkalchemist @darling006 @loglady00 @caninnes

#azriel x reader #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfiction #azriel imagine #azriel angst #azriel x y/n #acotar reader fic #acotar fandom #Keep Moving Forwards Fic #acotar slow burn #azriel slow burn #acotar fic #acotar reader insert #acotar reader imagine

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lick-me-lennon22 · 5 months

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Beatles X Reader who has trouble expressing their emotions

(another lovely anonymous request!! hope you all are having a good week so far :) please enjoy 💞)

John

John would likely use wit and sarcasm to deflect from emotional topics at first

however, internally, he'd be incredibly observant and sensitive to your feelings

he would feel a deep sense of empathy towards you, understanding the struggles of navigating and expressing complex emotions

being quite introspective himself, John would take a patient and understanding approach, creating a non-judgmental space for you to open up gradually through long conversations and shared experiences

he'd be the type to challenge you gently, pushing you out of your comfort zone in a supportive way to help you grow emotionally

while John might struggle with his own emotional expression at times, he'd make a conscious effort to show vulnerability in small, subtle ways, hoping to lead by example and encourage you to do the same

Paul

Paul (always wanting to fix things) would feel a strong desire to help you feel comfortable expressing yourself, wanting nothing more than for you to feel understood and supported

he would use his own experiences to relate to you, gently encouraging you to open up on your own time

he would offer lots of affection and reassurance, showing you that it's okay to be vulnerable and that you are dearly loved and valued by him

Paul may encourage you to engage in activities with him often, using shared experiences as a way to build your trust

he might share his more personal songs or poetry with you in an attempt to connect and inspire you to express your feelings in a similar way

despite his outward confidence, Paul would still have moments of self-doubt, always wondering whether he's doing enough to support his partner

George

George feels a profound sense of appreciation for your complexity and strives to show his respect for your boundaries

he would quietly support and comfort you, offering a sense of calm and stability for you to lean on

George may not push you to express yourself verbally, but would instead encourage you to find outlets for your emotions, offering a perspective that fosters self-reflection and discovery

he might suggest meditation or journaling in an effort to help you become more in tune with yourself and your feelings

George would cherish quiet moments of intimacy with you, like sitting together in silence, holding hands, and simply enjoying each other's presence without the need for words

he is always deeply moved by your rare moments of vulnerability, viewing them as feats of strength and bravery

Ringo

Ringo would be the epitome of patience and understanding, feeling a deep and genuine desire to make you feel validated and cared for

his easygoing demeanor would put you at ease and help create a comfortable atmosphere for you to relax and be yourself around him

he'd suggest activities that allow you to relax - hoping that even if you don't want to talk about your feelings, you're able to shed some weight from your shoulders

Ringo is always there with supportive words or a comforting hug if you need it, without any pressure of opening up

he would make a conscious effort to listen actively when you do want to talk about things, not just waiting for his turn to speak but genuinely taking in what you have to say and validating your emotions without judgment

Ringo would still have his moments of quiet concern, worrying about whether he's done all he can to help you feel secure in your relationship, and would constantly strive to be a better partner

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tortelette · 1 year

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It is god awful 4 am in the Philippines (insomnia growing worse due to worry) and I have one fucking theory on what fucking Demian said in the epilogue of Chapter 4.

Demian fucking returns to the presence of Dante as the Sinners took a feast for themselves at some restaurant and talks to them about the meaning and true purpose of technology and the morality behind it along with the concept of greed. One line took a fucking slap on me whenever I kept reading his dialogue.

This is...

A "The Little Prince (TLP)" by Saint Exupéry reference said by the Little Prince himself when he met the stranded pilot in the desert.

Back then when I was still studying religious literature and our main topic is TLP, there are many biblical references here and there from the snake who bit him down to the desert where the pilot has been stranded upon for some time. The sheep has many symbolisms back in my lessons, the common ones that I get to see are the spiritual transcendence of the prince, the representation of the truth, and the beauty hidden from reality. Mind you all that the story of TLP is quite imaginative and a sad one that gives the hopeful yet real life lessons of friendship, value, love, and loss. Hence many symbolisms are interpreted here.

Now that I mention those things... what does it have to do with Demian telling Dante to draw him a sheep like they promised to him? Judging from the structure of his tone, it appears that Demian knew Dante before Dante took their clock prosthetic.

Well my theory is that the sheep is the symbolism of "realization" or more likely "seeing the truth of humanity." Dante is a blurry yet blank slate when they saw that they lost their memories yet retained a sense of a trail of their true goal. Dante wants answers (an obvious reflection of decision for a person who knows nothing of the world) in everything around them and they are the ones who let's out the final decision to handle in everything with the Sinner's help. Hence, they take semi-control in seeing EVERYTHING and witness it along with them. So far Dante has saw the lives of four of their sinners (Gregor, Rodion, Sinclair, and Yi Sang) and see how cruel and unfair of the life they went through. Dante sees them all since they resonated as well with the golden boughs and sees a portion of their troubled lives. A normal happening of humanity in The City.

Dante has to draw a "sheep" to Demian, more likely... Dante has to share to Demian the "truth of humanity that they have witnessed through resonance with the Sinners in a refreshed look." In this chapter, it appears that Dante has to share their side of the truth to Demian about Yi Sang's life yet they appear to be at a lost as always. Just like a sheep that strays away from the shepherd's guidance.

Remember Faust's remarks when she stated on what would be Dante's reaction about their decision to suppress the bronze bull when they get their memories back? It is implying for me at least that Dante is a dislikable or negative character. I mean... look at them when we first started the entire game. Demian must have known this too and probably wants to get Dante to draw a sheep for him now that he can have a more "innocent" or understandable outlook about humanity.

In TLP, the sheep (if removing the more complex representations of various literary analysis) is a literal representation of one's ability to appreciate the beauty of all things through the heart despite the appearance. All of the sinner's lives are miserable in some way yet they are still "beautiful" for us because they manage to strive through their problems, they seek on the right of their belief, they live on to face their traumas, and to accept help from others in order to get back up. The disgusting experiences of humanity in The City is a facade that people always see, but the actions they have done that either support or combat those experiences is what makes it beautiful.

The truth of humanity, is the suffering that they have been through.

It would be interesting that Demian has the title of "The Little Prince" as a nod to it.

EDIT: How does my unhealthy insomnia theory get a lot of interactions- I... I am scared.

#limbus company #limbus company demian #limbus company dante #limbus company theory

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thehufflepuffavenger1 · 10 months

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The Grid Angel (3/?) M.V. x reader

Charles oh Charles

The vibrant lights of the city shimmered as Charles Leclerc and you stepped out onto the bustling streets. The post-race dinner had been filled with laughter and camaraderie, but tonight was different—it was just the two of you. The energy of the paddock had faded into the background, and the cityscape served as the backdrop for this unexpected chapter in the off-track drama.Charles, ever the gentleman, suggested a walk through the city. The neon signs reflected in his eyes as he spoke, "I thought a change of scenery might be nice. How about we explore a bit?"

As you strolled through the city streets, Charles continued to share stories, blending racing anecdotes with personal experiences. His easygoing nature and genuine charm made the evening feel effortless, and the initial awkwardness that often accompanies one-on-one encounters melted away.

As you reached a quaint café tucked away in a quiet corner, Charles suggested, "How about we grab a drink and just enjoy the night?"

The cafe's warm glow created a cozy ambiance, and the two of you settled into a corner booth. The conversation flowed seamlessly, covering a myriad of topics. It was evident that Charles was genuinely interested in getting to know you beyond the confines of the paddock.

As the night wore on, Charles, with a thoughtful expression, broached a topic that had lingered in the air like an unspoken secret. "You know, Y/N, I've enjoyed our time together. But I can't help but feel there's something on your mind."

You hesitated for a moment before admitting, "It's been a bit complicated lately, with all the attention and dynamics in the paddock. I didn't expect my off-track life to be this... eventful."

Charles nodded, understanding the complexities of life in the fast lane. "I get it. Racing is intense, and so are the relationships that come with it. But I want you to know that I genuinely enjoy your company, no matter where this leads."

The honesty in his words resonated, and you appreciated his sincerity. The evening continued with laughter, genuine conversation, and a shared understanding that sometimes friendships could be more valuable than romantic entanglements.

Later, back at the paddock, Max Verstappen was growing increasingly agitated. The post-race dinner gatherings, the friendly camaraderie—it was all getting under his skin. He couldn't shake the feeling that Charles Leclerc was becoming a formidable rival not just on the track but in his personal life as well.

As Max stewed in his frustration, he caught wind of your evening with Charles. The whispers and speculations in the paddock only fueled his annoyance, and by the time the next race weekend arrived, Max was on edge.Confrontation became inevitable when Max cornered Charles in the garage after a practice session. The air crackled with tension as Max unleashed his pent-up frustration. "What's your game, Leclerc? You think you can just waltz in and take everything, don't you?"

Charles, taken aback by the sudden outburst, tried to diffuse the situation. "Max, I don't know what you're talking about. We're just friends."

But Max, blinded by jealousy and the fear of losing something he didn't even fully understand, wasn't ready to back down. "Don't play dumb with me. I know you like Y/N. You've been trying to steal their attention, and I won't stand for it."

Charles, maintaining his composure, replied, "Max, I asked Y/N out because we enjoy each other's company. It's not a competition. If you have feelings for them, you should talk to Y/N about it."

Max's frustration reached its peak, and he shot back, "I don't need your advice, Leclerc. Stay away from Y/N. I won't let you ruin what we have."

With that, Max stormed off, leaving Charles standing in the garage, a mixture of confusion and frustration etched on his face. The pit crew as always, witnessing the heated exchange, exchanged worried glances, realizing that the off-track drama had escalated to a new level.

In the midst of the chaos, you, unaware of the confrontation, continued to navigate the complexities of life in the paddock. The Grand Prix season had become a tapestry of emotions, weaving together friendships, rivalries, and unexpected connections that transcended the confines of the race circuit.

As the next race loomed on the horizon, the paddock held its collective breath, unsure of how the off-track saga would unfold. The off-track drama, fueled by emotions and the unspoken tensions, had become as unpredictable as the races themselves, and the journey through the season promised to be a rollercoaster ride of highs and lows.

Taglist:

@itsjustkhaos

#thehufflepuffavenger1 #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine

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nonaltercdd · 3 months

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i hate always wondering "am I schizophrenic or is this just DID symptoms?" Because I'm around the age schizophrenia symptoms start appearing, and I only started experiencing them a couple years ago, but the two disorders have a lot of overlapping symptoms. Like what do I even do? Wait to see if the hallucinations and delusions get worse? And if they do, is it because of schizophrenia or is it just stress???

I don't fucking know anymore

-💫🪶

The huge overlapping symptoms of both disorders is a very prominent thing, did you know some DID diagnosis have to pass through a schizophrenia test to see if it's that or DID? Curious if you ask me and the reason behind it is because of the symptoms like hallucination and disconnection with reality

I get the fear and confusion between this two disorders, there are a lot of disorders with overlapping symptoms between them and CDDs which is why the diagnosis can be hard to get if you're not with someone specialized in the topic and have enough information to understand the symptoms

If you can I recommend to attend to a mental health professional to have a better process of understanding, it's always important to note that you might have or not have a CDD, and if you don't have it it's ok! People make mistakes, that doesn't make you a bad person nor I'm going to shout at you because you interacted with my blog, learning and understanding such things as mental disorders is very frightening and complex

I'm just a random on the internet and therefore I don't know your case, I can't help you more than give you some words and recommending you to go to see a professional to make sure and work with the symptoms, but have in mind misdiagnosis are a very common thing especially with CDDs so it's gonna be a long journey

It's ok to not know, you don't have to know yourself all at once, you don't have to understand each single part of your brain and how it works, you don't have to know the answer of all your doubts, take your time and don't stress you too much about it, you might end up worst without even wanting that

Your fear and confusion is valid, I have been there too a lot of times and at the end it's just time, reflection and my notes what help me out, you don't have to know the answers just right now, but you're not alone ok?

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auronira · 6 months

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Being someone who is allo (just learned about the existance of this word) and cis, I want to talk about the hot topic of Alastor being shipped romantically and sexually by the fandom of Hazbin Hotel.

I understand that the topic I'm about to delve into may require some patience and open-mindedness. As a young individual seeking understanding, I implore you to hear me out before forming any judgments. English isn't my first language, so I apologize if my expressions seem weird, also it may take a while to get what I am saying here, I took a lot of time to get my point across so please give me a little bit of your time - especially if you are aroace or anywhere among that spectrum.

First of all, being cis and allo is obviously one of the most comfortable shoes you can wear within society. I am aware of that.

For instance, as someone who enjoys immersing myself in various forms of media such as books, movies, and video games, I often find characters and narratives that resonate with my experiences. This familiarity allows me to connect deeply with the stories and derive genuine enjoyment from them. I've never had to grapple with the challenges of feeling unseen or misunderstood in this regard, and for that, I am privileged.

Contrastingly, I recognize the struggles that members of the LGBTQ+ community often face. The need to repeatedly explain one's identity and preferences, the constant battle for visibility and acceptance – these are realities that I've never had to confront personally. My identity has always been accepted without question, and for that, I'm grateful. However, I'm eager to learn and empathize with those whose journeys differ from my own so please try and be patient with me.

To my fellow cisgender and heterosexual individuals who may be unfamiliar with what I'm about to explain: Consider the concept of "comfort characters" and why they hold such significance in our lives. For me, growing up, Katniss Everdeen served as my comfort character. Reflecting on her impact on my childhood development, I realize the profound influence she had. During a time when I was grappling with personal challenges that I wasn't yet ready to confide in my family about, my connection to Katniss provided solace. Through her character, I found the strength to envision myself facing adversity head-on, overcoming obstacles with resilience. It may seem trivial to some, given that she's a fictional creation, but the bond I forged with her played a pivotal role in shaping my identity.

I believe many of us can relate to forming such deep connections with fictional characters as we navigate through the complexities of adolescence and young adulthood. These characters serve as guiding lights, offering solace and inspiration during times of uncertainty. Even if you haven't personally experienced such a connection, I encourage you to consider the profound impact that representation can have on shaping one's sense of self and belonging.

Representation matters because it validates our experiences and identities, providing a sense of visibility and validation that is essential for personal growth and empowerment. Just as we find comfort and inspiration in the characters we admire, so too do marginalized individuals deserve to see themselves reflected in the stories they consume. It's through diverse representation that we foster empathy, understanding, and inclusivity within our communities and society as a whole.

Representation matters because it gives people characters they can relate to and admire. But not every character needs to be relatable for everyone to like them. For instance, I really enjoyed watching the relationship between She-Ra and Catra in the show She-Ra. Even though I'm straight, I can imagine the profound joy it brought to members of the LGBTQ+ community who could see themselves represented in a meaningful way. They relate to those characters differently than I do, and that's totally okay. Sometimes, fans want to see their favorite characters in certain ways, even if it's not exactly how the creators intended them to be. They create their own ideas about the characters to feel a deeper connection. While it's natural to want to connect with characters, it's also important to respect the original story and the creators' intentions.

While it's natural to seek characters with whom we can personally identify, it's equally important to appreciate the diversity of perspectives and experiences that representation brings. It's through this diversity that stories become richer and more inclusive, resonating with a broader audience and fostering empathy and understanding across different communities.

So what does that mean for aroace people when it comes to Alastor?

For this to understand I'm just gonna try and picture myself in a different pair of metaphorical shoes, but when it comes to being ace they may not even feel like shoes at all, but more as if you are running barefoot over the nastiest lego pieces in existance.

Imagine going to a bookstore and struggling to find something that aligns with your tastes. Maybe you spend hours searching, only to come up empty-handed. Perhaps you end up settling for whatever book is popular at the moment, feeling left out because there's no variety that speaks to you. Or maybe you turn to the internet, hoping to find your perfect book match online, but even that proves to be a challenge. In the end, you might resort to reading fanfiction because there, at least, the chances of finding representation are higher.

This struggle isn't limited to books but extends to movies, TV shows, and everything else. Constantly feeling like you don't belong can be painful and isolating. I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone. Unfortunately, society can't change overnight, so we have to work with what we have for now.

The bottom line is, everyone deserves to see themselves represented in the media they consume. It's not just about personal preference; it's about feeling seen and valued in a world that often overlooks our differences. And until that becomes a reality, we'll keep pushing for change, one step at a time. Finally, there's that one character – in this case, Alastor – and for the first time, asexual individuals can feel that sense of connection I've been talking about. They feel seen and acknowledged, just as we all do when we find something or someone we can relate to. This is what books, TV shows, and video games are all about – providing us with enjoyment and a sense of validation, especially in a world that can be tough.

Representation of diverse sexualities in media isn't just important for LGBTQ+ individuals; it's beneficial for everyone. It helps broaden our understanding of each other and breaks down barriers without anyone having to change who they are to fit in. This is the power of art and the stories we consume – they have the ability to blur the lines between people and foster greater empathy and acceptance. Ultimately, it's about making everyone feel like they belong and have a place in the world.

I'll be honest – I don't really think about labels much anymore. I've found that they can sometimes divide people even further, which isn't what I'm about. It's not that I have anything against labels in general; I just personally don't dwell on them. However, I do recognize the subtle influence they can have on me, even though I consider myself quite open-minded.

I've come to a point where I've found peace in the idea that everyone should just be allowed to be themselves, as long as they're happy. I didn't actively choose to be straight; it's just who I am. And I don't expect anyone else to have to "choose" their sexuality either – they should just be able to exist and be happy. I've reached a mindset where I don't really give much thought to someone's sexuality when I see it portrayed in media. They're just who they are, and I'm just who I am. But I understand that for many people, having those labels is important for representation and visibility. Perhaps, initially, society needs those divisions in order for certain groups to feel seen and acknowledged. And while I may not personally identify with those labels, I can still appreciate their significance to others. At the end of the day, it's about acceptance and understanding, regardless of labels.

Returning to the topic of Alastor, now that there's this ace character, the fandom takes him and sometimes decides to change him to fit their own desires. It's similar (I guess) to the disappointment some feel when an author keeps a protagonist's appearance vague, only for fans to imagine them as the perfect, conventionally beautiful princess. This can be hurtful to people who don't fit that idealized image because they ask themselves "would the story be any different if she would be smaller, or chubby, or (insert whatever you want)?"

What's crucial to recognize here is that some fans might struggle to accept Alastor's sexuality because they feel like he has to be different for them to enjoy certain content without feeling guilty or needing to justify their actions. Our minds often try to protect us with such a mindset so we can feel good about ourselves and our choices. For some, that means trying to impose their beliefs on a character so they can comfortably engage with them in their own fanworks.

It's important to acknowledge that everyone interprets and engages with media differently. However, it's also important to respect the creator's original intentions and the representation they've provided. Trying to change a character to fit one's own desires can be disrespectful to both the character and those who identify with them.

Ultimately, it's about finding a balance between creative freedom and respecting the integrity of the source material.

Here are two key considerations that both sides should bear in mind, (if I even have the right to say anything as someone who is clearly underqualified when it comes to topics like that as a cis and allo):

On one hand, it's important for ace individuals to understand that people often enjoy engaging with characters in various ways, including through shipping and fanfiction. Characters may take on different traits or orientations in these creative outlets, and that's part of the fun and freedom of fan culture. However, when it comes to representation in canon material, it's crucial not to impose personal viewpoints onto characters solely for the sake of recognition. While it's acceptable to explore different interpretations in fan works, it's essential to respect the original portrayal of characters, particularly regarding their sexuality.

Reflecting on my own feelings on this matter, I've realized that I don't necessarily take issue with individuals changing the sexual orientation of straight characters in fanfiction. However, I become uncomfortable when there's an attempt to forcefully alter the canonical identity of a character. This discomfort arises from a sense that being straight is portrayed as incorrect or undesirable. This realization has deepened my empathy for the struggles faced by members of the LGBTQ+ community in seeking authentic representation in media.

This also brings me to the main point – the same principle applies to ace individuals when the community tries to forcefully change a character's sexuality, refusing to acknowledge their ace identity as portrayed in the show. Finally, ace individuals have a character to look up to who is even quite popular, only to see that representation invalidated or ignored because some people refuse to accept it – essentially, refusing to see them.

This kind of rejection can make ace individuals feel as though they need to conform to certain expectations in order to be considered "interesting" or "popular," just like Alastor. It's confusing and disheartening to see a character's identity denied or dismissed, especially when it's a rare instance of representation that could provide validation and visibility for ace individuals.

It would be VERY confusing for me, making me feel like, despite getting represented, I would not be enough.

I'd like to take a moment to clarify that while I enjoy engaging in fan works involving Alastor - some even portraying him romantically or sexually with another character, I wouldn't want him to be portrayed differently in the series. Changing his character in the serie itself in such a fundamental way would completely ruin the essence of who he is for me, much like what happened with characters such as Wednesday, Sherlock, or Loki. Despite my love for these characters, I felt that some of them should have remained as they were without delving into romantic or sexual storylines, as it would feel out of place, just as it would feel strange to me if Alastor suddenly showed romantic or sexual interest in anyone.

It's important to recognize that enjoying fan works doesn't necessarily mean wanting to alter the original outcome of the show or the character themselves. Sometimes, it's just for fun, without any deeper implications.

I don't have a definitive conclusion or a perfect solution to make everything peaceful – I'm not sure such a thing even exists. However, I believe that listening to each other and trying to understand one another, despite our differences, is crucial. I can only imagine how deeply hurtful it must be for ace individuals to see so much fan art of Alastor that conflicts with his established sexual orientation, but recognizing it as people having fun and drawing a line between canon and fanon is as important as it is for those who engage in such content to understand why ace individuals might feel upset about it, and to recognize that their feelings are just as valid.

We need to communicate with each other respectfully and without hostility.

I'm open to listening to anyone who might feel offended by anything I've written here – my goal in sharing these thoughts is simply to foster understanding and empathy. I never wanted to hurt anyone with my words, sorry in advance if someone feels triggered because of this.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor aroace #aromantic #asexual #aroace #alastor the radio demon

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talonabraxas · 7 months

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"I am embracing the opportunity to delve into complex topics, expanding my knowledge and opening my mind to new perspectives."

Opportunities Expanding knowledge and perspectives Embracing intellectual curiosity

Goals Questioning ideas and beliefs Engaging in self-reflection

Pluto Transits Pluto's Profound Passages Pluto, the farthest and often most mysterious of celestial bodies, exerts a profound influence during its long transits, delving into the depths of the psyche and unearthing hidden truths. Known as the planet of transformation, death, and rebirth, its presence is synonymous with intense metamorphosis. Pluto's touch can dismantle structures, beliefs, and identities that once seemed unshakeable, leading to periods of profound introspection, purging, and eventually, regeneration. These transits can be unsettling, as they confront individuals with the deeper aspects of their nature, shadows, obsessions, and the very essence of their soul's desires.

Resurrection through Pluto's Gaze While Pluto's energy can often feel overwhelming, heralding endings and deep losses, there's a transformative alchemy at its core. Just as a forest fire, though destructive, paves the way for new growth, Pluto's transits clear away the obsolete, making room for rebirth and renewal. It demands an unflinching look into the abyss, but with the promise that from these depths, one can rise renewed, with a deeper understanding of oneself and a more authentic alignment with one's life purpose. Navigating Pluto's waters requires courage, surrender, and a trust in the cyclical nature of life: that after every ending comes a new beginning.

Pluto Sextile Natal Mercury During the transit of Pluto sextile to your natal Mercury, your mind becomes a powerful tool for exploration. You feel a heightened curiosity and a strong desire to delve into complex subjects. This is an opportune time to pursue your interest in a specific topic, as your ability to comprehend intricate concepts is enhanced.

Self-reflection takes on a new significance during this period. You are encouraged to question your own ideas and beliefs, seeking a deeper understanding of your inner world. Superficial conversations hold little appeal to you now; instead, you are drawn towards individuals who share your interest in philosophical and metaphysical matters.

Embrace this transit as an invitation to expand your intellectual horizons. Engage in deep discussions, challenge your preconceived notions, and explore the mysteries of life. By embracing the complexity of the world around you, you will foster a greater sense of variety and uniqueness in your experiences.

Reflect on how you can utilize this transit to uncover profound insights and broaden your mental landscape. What specific subjects or areas of knowledge do you feel compelled to explore further? How can you engage in conversations that stimulate your intellect and encourage personal growth?

Mercury Sextile Pluto by Talon Abraxas

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mask131 · 9 months

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Let's talk about Purgatory... (1)

Now that Hazbin Hotel is out, it is time to make some thematic posts. And what better way to begin than... the famed Purgatory.

In Hazbin Hotel, Charlie's project - and the titular hotel - is clearly meant to be what has been historically and religiously designated as "purgatory", this famed "third realm" between Heaven and Hell that apparently doesn't exist in the Hellaverse, where there is only a Heaven-Hell duality. The idea of Purgatory has been used a lot by recent media for various effects - from Supernatural's quite unique take on it, to the most recent The Good Place, passing by the viral webtoon Adventures of God.

But let's talk a bit about what Purgatory truly was, and truly has been. For this post I'll mostly rely on the writings of Christine Duthoit, for a dossier she created documenting the afterlifes in the Middle-Ages ; for her Purgatory section she notably took a lot of info from Jacques Le Goff's own study of Purgatory (Le Goff being one of our big medieval experts in France).

So... it is important to remember that the realm of Purgatory (I'm going to place caps to make clear I'm talking about the afterlife-realm) is not something that originally existed in the Christian religion. You had Heaven and Hell, but no real "Purgatory" - it was a medieval invention, in front of the Christians' own anguish when confronted to the idea of an endless damnation. More generally, the Purgatory was needed to try to explain how a God of endless love, mercy and understanding could have a realm such as Hell entirely dedicated to infinite misery and torments until the end of time. The solution to this paradox was the existence of a third issue, a third realm where people that were not bad enough to deserve infinite torture could earn a "second chance" and purify themselves of their sins to reach Heaven: the Purgatory (from the verbs and terms refering to a "purge", or the "purging" of something - in this case, to purge one's sins and evils).

However, just because the Purgatory was "invented" in the Middle-Ages doesn't mean that it doesn't have older roots. Indeed, inspired by the old concept of the Bosom of Abraham (talked about in the Ancient Testament, and then referred to by Jesus in the New Testament), the early Christians believed in a concept called the "refrigerium". The refrigerium, the "freshening" or "refreshening" of the deceased, actually had a dual meaning. At the same time, the refrigerium designated a supposed place, a "fresh" and pleasant realms where the souls awaited for the Last Judgement ; and it also designated the practice and habit of "refreshing" the memory of the dead - for example organizing ritual feasts and commemorative reunions in order to not forget the deceased. This dual belief reflected the remnants of the Roman religion in early Christianity: indeed, the Roman Empire did not actually have any precise or defined belief in any "afterlife" (despite what Latin poets might let you think). The Roman religion, being a religion of ritual rather than of belief, did not care much about any realm beyond death, but rather focused on a series of rituals to honor the memory of the dead (such as the family having meals on their graves regularly) or appease the unresting souls (the famous ghost-hunting rituals against the larvae and the lemurs). This tradition of the ritualistic "memory-keeping" of the dead stayed within early Christianity.

The belief in Purgatory also stems from and is heavily tied to the belief in the Last Judgement and the Resurrection - key features of the Christian religion, the idea that at the end of time God will organize a Final Judgement, the famed Judgement Day, upon all of humanity, after resurrecting all the deceased that ever were. I'm not going to lose myself too much in this complex topic - but the belief of Purgatory also comes from theologians constantly wondering and pondering what happens to the souls between death and Judgement Day, and how the Last Judgement can be "prepared".

As early as the second century, the Greek Fathers of the Church (Clement of Alexandria, or Origen) started talkeing about a "purifying fire" for the souls, but they did not develop much the idea. The Latin Church Fathers, meanwhile (Gregory the Great, Ambrose, Augustine, Jerome) talked about a "second chance" offered after death to those that did not commit very grave or heavy sins, and that consisted in purification trials. But the details were still murky and confused: nobody agreed on what those purifications were, on how long the process took, or on where they took place. But they all agreed on a common point: the idea that the prayers of the living had the power to ease the suffering and the trials of the souls of the dead. Saint Augustine, that is often considered the "father of Purgatory", started the idea that this "purifying fire" in the afterlife could only work on venial sins, and that it was located somewhere between "the death of the Christian and the resurrection of their body" ; the idea was continued by Gregory the Great, whose text Moralia in Job heavily influenced the Purgatory ideas. For those of you not versed in Christian terminology, sins are divided between venial sins and mortal sins (not to be confused with the "deadly sins"). Venial sins are minor, not-so-bad sins, that can be easily forgiven or erased by things such as sincere remorse, penitence and confession ; mortal sins, meanwhile, are grave and serious sins that cannot be fully erased and will lead your soul to Hell.

Between the 7th and the 12th centuries, the religious doctrine and official canon of the Church stayed at a dead end. Theologians, authors and other religious debaters did not dare go further into the whole "Purgatory" debate - they stayed by what the Fathers had said before them, and the debates stayed debates with no real conclusions. However, if the official teachings did not evolve, this era saw a boom in terms of popular imagination. Starting from the monasteries, there was a true wave of imagination and imageries that fed onto the many "pagan remnants" that were everywhere in the societies and beliefs of the Middle-Ages: you had the remnants of the Greco-Roman beliefs, especially the Plato philosophy, and you had all the leftovers of the Celtic and Germanic mythologies, mixed with all the apocalyptic imagery that was VERY popular at the time... And all this mixed together started shaping the Purgatory as we know it today.

For example, in the 8th century or so, in his Ecclesiastical History, Bede collected a story called "Drythelm's vision" (book V, chapter 12). The titular man, Drythelm, had what we would call today a Near-Death-Experience - he entered into a death-like state, then suddenly returned to life. Once "awake", he told of how he had been guided by a shinng person dressed in white to fantastical landscapes East of the world. At first, Drythelm saw a deep valley: one side was burning, the other covered by both a snowstorm and hailstorm, and a ceaseless wind pushed human souls from the burning fire to the freezing ice constantly. Drythelm thought he was in Hell, but his guide rather told him it was not Hell, but a place where the souls of those that were late in confessing their sins or trying to repair their crimes were "examined and punished" - but since before their death they ended up confessing their evils and making penitence, they all earned the right to join Heaven upon Judgement Day. After this sight, Drythelm goes over a high wall, and sees a green, flowery meadow, filled with lovely scents and bright light, where white-dressed people chat with each other. Drythelm thinks he is in Heaven, but the guide once again says no: rather, this place is the realm where the souls of those not perfect enough for Heaven are sent, but they too will earn their right to the "Celestial Kingdom" upon Judgement Day. As such, Drythelm vision doesn't offer a "third realm" between Heaven and Hell, but rather a binary system of temporary places, one of torment and one of waiting.

[I will make a pause here to explain something: The reason why Heaven seems so hard to reach in early Christian texts is actually quite simple. Heaven was not originally made for human souls. Maybe I'll explain this in more details when I'll make posts covering the evolution of Heaven but simply put: originally Heaven was supposed to be the realm of God and angels, and that's it. It was an inhuman realm for inhuman beings. Then, the Church did accept the idea that human souls could go to Heaven: but it was only Saints. Aka, not just any good human souls, but exceptional humans that had risen above their regular condition to become themselves part-divine. The idea that all good souls can go to Heaven is actually a "late" development in the concept of Heaven ; hence why in these early texts we have a lot of talks about how even good human souls are still not "perfect" enough to reach Heaven.]

Now, Drythelm was not a man of the Church - he was your regular guy, so to speak. As such, it is interesting to compare this vision to another "afterlife vision", called the "Wetti Vision", collected by Walafrid Strabon in the 9th century: Wetti being a monk, the vision is much more "religious". The monk Wetti claimed that one day, as he was sick and laying in his room, he saw Satan appear before him, in the shape of a black and ugly Churchman, surrounded by demon and torture-tools. However a group of monks came in to force the demons to flee, and a purple-clad angel suddenly appeared to comfort the sick monk. Awakening, Wetti asked for other monks of his monastery to pray for him, and he read some of the Dialogues of Gregory the Great, before going to sleep again. The angel returned, but this time clad in white, and took Wetti away on a pleasant road, towards high mountains made of marble and surrounded by a river - a river in which people are tormented and tortured, especially bad priests and the women they seduced. The angel then shows Wetti a version of Purgatory - here a twisted and crooked castle on the mountains, made of wood and stone, and where both monks and non-Churchmen have "purgative" torments inflicted upon them - Wetti notably sees here Charlemagne, punished for his sexual life. This text is very interesting because it clearly split Purgatory and Hell - explaining that the torments of Hell are endless and eternal, while those of Purgatory (the mountainous realm) are temporary.

Another vision that was influential is called the "Vision of Charles the Fat", which has in common with the Vision of Wetti to show historical figures of great rulers being tormented in the afterlife, showing even the "greats of this world" cannot escape a moral punishment. The Vision of Charles the Fat notably inspired Dante's own Divine Comedy - but we'll put the details for another time.

So, we have a boom of visions of the afterlife, and of records of strange dreams and NDE visits of "in-between" places that are neither Heaven no Hell. The theologians have to catch up, and to put an end to these endless discussions around unclear and vague doctrines full of holes. Two main questions are brought up: on one side, the "categorization of the souls", on the other, the "geography of the afterlife". To be clear: theologians wonder who can be redeemed, how they can be redeemed, and if Purgatory is truly separate from Hell. Saint Augustine had established a division of souls in four categories: 1) the all-good 2) the all-evil 3) the not-all-good (or "mostly-good") 4) the not-all-evil (or the "mostly evil"). However, theologians couldn't possibly make this four-part classification fit with the trinity that was arising of Heaven-Hell-Purgatory.

A commentator named the "Ambrosiaster" (or "Pseudo-Ambrose) had a HUGE impact on the medieval theologians of the 12th and 13th centuries, because in his study of the first epistle of saint Paul to the Corinthians, he clearly defined three fates after death. All the saints and the justs go to Heaven. All the infidels, all the atheists, all the impious ad apostates go to the "endless Gehenna". But the sinners that "had faith" will undergo trials before reaching Heaven. Under this light, the theologians of the 12th century decided to gather in one category the "not-all-good" and "not-all-evil" souls - those not good enough to go to Heaven and those not bad enough to go to Hell. They became one group known as the "mediocriter", the mediocre souls, and yet despite going to a same place (Purgatory) they had were prepared for a different fate.

The true foundational texts of the Purgatory date from between 1170 and 1200 - and the afterlife thoughts and theories they offer are actually a reflection of the social, political and judiciary evolutions of the time. Indeed, what happens during this era? The Pope's authority becomes much stronger and his power more direct. The feodal system starts crumbling down, replaced by great States. The bourgeoisie starts appearing as a third group between the peasants and the nobility ; the same way that a "third order" appears between churchmen and the secular people. The apocalyptic texts, which had been very influential until now, become secondary sources, while the Song of Songs is pushed forward. As such, the 12th century invites people to discover a restructured world and society, and to think about making justice evolve. People of the era were not satisfied anymore but the Heaven-Hell couple, thought as too simple and too binary. The idea of personal responsability eclipsed the "sins of the community", and it was around this era that judiciary concepts such as "parole", "conditional liberty" and "emission of sentence" were created. Theologians drew a line between the vices (the natural flaws and the evil pulsions within one's soul) and the sins (crimes and evil actions, but that could be done not out of evil intentions, but out of ignorance). It was also around this era that the division between the mortal sins (criminalia capitalia) and the venial sins (parva, quotidiana, minuta) was heavily stressed out - the new afterlife had to reflect the idea that some sins could be forgiven, others not.

In France, two intellectual communities truly theorized the Purgatory between the 12th and 13th centuries. On one side, you had the intellectual Parisian community - especially Notre-Dame, which was as much a cathedral as a school, before its "scholar" functions was moved to the University and the teachers of Franciscan and Dominican orders. Jacques Le Goff did identify the birth of modern Purgatory with the event known as the "scolastic spring", represented by the three Pierres : Pierre le Chantre, Pierre le Mangeur, Pierre Lombard. Pierre le Mangeur (Peter the Eater) was notably one of the first men in France to use the term "purgatorium". The second intellectual domain to build Purgatory was the Cistercian order, whose influence was so great many people consider saint Bernard to have "created" Purgatory - and it is known that the Cistercian order had many ties to the Parisian intellectuals.

To return to the three Pierres, Pierre Lombard in his Sentences explained there were three categories of souls, identical to the one we saw before: one group is of the entirely good and virtuous souls, another is the evil souls, and the third group gathers those that are almost entirely good, and those that are almost entirely bad. Pierre le Chantre rather explicitely describe three afterlife realms, a Heaven-Hell-Purgatory system (and he explicitely uses "purgatorium" to designate the third realm). If we move on to the 13th century, we find many more men talking about Purgatory: the great theologians that were Guillaume of Auverge, Bonaventure, Albert the Great, Thomas Aquinas... But while they speak about it, they do not really focus much or think much of it. Albert the Great, for example, considers Purgatory to be a place located near Hell, and where venial sins can be redeemed. He considers Purgatory a "passage-area", through which souls are led and guided by demons that are unable to harm them. Unlike Hell, which is a place of punishment where souls are tortured by both freezing cold and burning heat, Purgatory is a place of purging and purification leading to heavenly bliss - and this can only be done by fire, but a benevolent and non-harmful fire.

It was around the same time that the concept of "Limbo" appeared, as a place where the souls of unbaptized children went - and with the rise of Purgatory and Limbo, the old concepts of the Bosom of Abraham and of the refrigerium were completely erased and buried. The Purgatory became the embodiment of the "Suffering Church" Innocent III created. [To be clear: Sant Augustine established a division between Celestial Church and the Peregrine Church. This duality evolved in the 12th century into the Militant Church and the Triumphing Church, but the concept stayed the same. There is one side of the Church found on Earth, made by all the living agents of God, and the men and women of the Church, and the active Christians ; and another that is in Heaven, and is made of all the saints, and all the blessed ones living with God and His angels, and all the deceased Christians in the celestial realm. From Innocent III onward, the Christians located in Purgatory became the "third" side of the Church - the Suffering Church, or Penitent Church.]

In conclusion: all the great religious authorities, theologians and Christianity scholars agreed on the existence of Purgatory as a third place and spread the belief in it. But they still left its location and its details blurry, untold or open for imagination - placing the Purgatory as more of a secondary detail or general background in the great Christanity cosmogony. For them, recognizing that it exists was already enough: no need to waste too much time thinking about it, all you need to know is that it is there.

But despite the theologians and scholars' silence about Purgatory, the people became VERY interest with the idea of Purgatory, if not completely enamored with it. The idea of a "third realm", of a "second chance" became a HUGE thing - and as such, many, many secular or non-religious works started heavily expanding the "Purgatory lore".

Given this post is a bit too long, I'll stop here - to offer more next time...

#hazbin hotel #purgatory #christian beliefs #christianity #christian mythology #history of christianity #hell #heaven #afterlife #realms of the afterlife #christian afterlife

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