#maybe its just me but i think that some sort of spirituality | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

istherewifiinhell · 11 months

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banging my head against the wall. does anyone wanna go insane and read TMNT Mirage #37 with me? An emotionally fraught jouney of faith and family and battling for or against your roots of eons past? You should. But if your not in for reading a 40 page comic I have a condensed visual/textual moments and summation for you! You might enjoy it!

[Mirage 37, Rick McCollum and Bill Anderson]

ID: Turtles walking through a forest with full camping bags. Mikey has his mask around his neck and wears a bucket hat: Well..." Raph wears a wide brimmed fedora type hat, he balances one sai by its point on his finger: "You do got a point, buddy." Leo is shadowed in the back with a straw hat. END

[In this comic the turtles are depicted with understated beaks and look lankier than Classic Mirage style. Their skin is usually in the darker of the 2 toners, and their masks are left without toner.]

ID: From behind the group, Don and Mikey in silhouette up front. Behind them, Raph is throwing his sai in the air. Leo is saying "I believe you Don, but... Spiritual meaning? Maybe you're reading too much into it." Close on Don's face, frowning "No, I'm not." END.

[See Donatello: The Ring, in Turtle Soup #2] Here's what you missed: Don went on a spiritual journey by himself. Now he wants them all to experience it.

ID: Three turtles and Splinter in the farm house living room. Raph and Mikey on the couch with books, Leo on the floor polishing his sword. Splinter standing to the side. Raph: Yeah, but Casey's car's on the blink. Mike: I hope its doesn't fall apart while he's out with April. Leo: Don will fix it when he returns. Raph has one leg up, is tossing some shuriken in one hand, his books says "Fun with sai". Mike slouches and has a drink can, his book is "Life of Bruce Lee" END

ID: Three Panels of Don explaining his experience in front of a large fire, fiddling with his bo staff, the flames curl around him as he speaks. A brow raised: But it wasn't the trees- It was one of us! The Father of All Reptiles Looking contemplative: He was a turtle. Or a ghost. Some kind of spirit... With a sheepish smile: And I'm glad I met him. He said I was special... END

Splinter reprimands the other turtles for not taking Don seriously. His lecture:

"Your lack of respect is unbecoming. Have I so failed you that you have no feel for your heritage, your roots? Reptiles ruled this world for uncounted eons, your people strode the land, slipped through the warm seas, and skittered about the sky. Though gone, their blood is your blood. And their spirit should be yours! They are your elders, with their bones left in the rock, lasting forever in the skin of the world. Respect them, and honor their spirits as you do me!" "Recall the time you spent, eons past, with your friend Renet. How you spoke of it once you'd returned! Did you not feel a sense of unity with that time? Did you not resonate to the heart-beat of the archosaurs? Your enthusiasm lingered for weeks."

[See Tales of TMNT 7] They went back in time and met dinosaurs, amongst other things.

ID: Panels with a close up on each character. April in profile, with a solemn look: You babbled on about it for days. Mike smiling wide: Yeah! It was warm! Leo, clutching his sword, looking away: I felt so free! Raph, his mask pushed up to his forehead, an eyes closed smile: Three months of fishing! Don, holding his staff, looking down: Yes, I was... Happy. END

Splinter continues to speak.

"Happiness…Ah, Donatello, it is so ephemeral. As was the time of those reptiles. Everything is a ring, and the ring turns. The world grew cold, small, furry creatures came out of the shadows. The dinosaurs died. The age of mammals began."

Raph, upset, gets disparaging about what the predominance of mammals has done to the earth.

ID: Three panels. Raph, shocked, hand over his mouth: I can't believe I said that. Splinter looming over Raph, who jerks back. Splinter: ~Think~ before~ you~ speak~ Raphael! Raph: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Splinter: Need I remind you that your best friend Casey Jones is a mammal? Close on Raph and April. Splinter off panel: Not to mention myself? Raph: Eep! April grimacing: I'm feeling warm-blooded and hairy also! END

ID: Four panels. Caption box: And look they do— Raph looking at two trees growing diagonally, thinking: I don't even know what I'm looking for. Leo, partially hidden behind foliage, thinking: Something's up. I feel... something. Mike, looking at a tree that's grown a loop in its trunk, thinking: Is this a "spiritual experience?" Don, walking through the trees in silhouette thinking: Why can't I find the place?" END

After a day of searching, they camp, but Mike goes missing during his watch in the night.

ID: Two panels, each showing Raph and Don and they face off and argue, their speech bubbles placed between them. Raph is backed up against a tree, angry, clenching his sais tightly. Don has his bo like a walking stick, and seems calmer.

Raph: Why? Mike needs us! Don, with an irregular speech bubble: Either he is alive or he is dead. The quest is more important. R: What are you talking about? What's wrong with you? D, normal bubble: Nothing. I had a dream last night. If we give up the quest, we've lost. R: Mike is more important! D: That's what the adversary hopes you think. R: What adversary? D, irregular bubble: Have Faith. R: Donatello! D, regular bubble: Remember when you devovled? We kept faith. R, yelling: AAARGH! END

[See Mirage 24-26] Raph was de-mutated into a regular turtle, his brothers had to go on a journey to save him.

ID: Leo, mask off, scowling "This is what we'll do. Break camp. Consolidate our gear. Bury what's left. We're on a combat mission now. We'll keep faith, Don, but--. A narrow panel of Don, drawn small, gripping his staff: What? Leo getting in Don's face, displeased: I hate leaving Mike. -- Just make sure you're right. END

Raph goes missing on their second nights watch, Don becomes stranger and more convicted about this quest.

ID: Leo, furiously, points in the direction of the viewer, accusing Don. "What's with you? Why are you so out of it?! -- What's wrong with your voice? [Larger text] Don't you care about Mike or Raph?! END

ID: Don sits facing away from Leo, gripping his staff, angry, speaking towards his hands. Leo looks on from a ways back, dramatically lit. Don: [Large text] Of course I do! [Normal text] But... I don't know what's wrong with my voice. I don't know who the Adversary is. And yet..." END

ID from alt: Two panels, Leo glaring, getting in Don's face, pointing at his beak, grabbing Don's staff. "Who told you this?" Don has brows raised. Don, with a wincing smile: "The Father of us all." END

ID: Multiple panels. Close on Leo, "Remember what I said about being sure?" Don holding his staff in front of himself, seemingly scared, "Leo, please." Mid on Leo, more neutral frown, "Don..." Full body, Leo turns away, the wind picks up. Leo facing away, pulled back shot. "Let's keep going." END

Narration as they travel further into stranger and stranger territory.

Leonardo: What was to be a relaxing romp has become a grueling death march. Sweating and hacking through the threatening undergrowth, he understands that he is hopelessly lost. As lost as Donatello seems to be, following an Unknown pull, mumbling to somebody only he can hear Donatello: while Leonardo must fight the wild landscape, he slips easily through the thorns. And he listens, and talks. Hair is better than scales? The birds are traitors, having stolen the secret of hot blood? Giants, brought low by small, furry ones? As he pursues the silent beckoning, he learns...

They have a run in with a foe in pitch black forest. They take many hits but score one back, severing one limb, hairy and clawed, then retreat. Don garbs himself in some make shift religious fair, using his blanket, mud and ash. The two sleep, they dream.

And they dream the same dream. They see their blood rise and rule. The ring is turning. The reptiles differentiate, and claim the seas and air. They see their family as it might have become- If the ring hadn't broken. They feel contempt for their children, the birds, as they invade the skies. But it is nothing compared to the fear which the small hairy ones bring. The furry horde had been around since the reptiles beginnings- swarming… unstoppable.

ID: Three panels. Caption Box: The morning brings questions. Leo and Don sit with their backs to a tree. Don's taken his mask off, made a dark markings on his face and body, and wears a hood. Leo: Did you dream-? Don: Yes. Leo looks upset, gestures with a hand in front of himself. "I... felt grief. Anguish. They must be let loose. -- But why? And how?" Don's face is completely shadowed by his hood, his eyes and teeth stick out in far too much detail. It is an unsettling smile. "You're starting to learn." END

Another fight, Don's leg is broken by the mammalian Adversary. Leo, with all the weight of the loss of his brothers, takes position to make a last stand protecting him. But Don urges him to continue on, to find and aid the Father of all Reptiles.

ID: Many panels, Don injured, propped against a tree. Eyes closed in pain he says "Can't you hear?" Leo looks behind them. A strange voice says "Come." Close on Don, crying, yelling at Leo "Go! Please! I have faith in you!" Leo's eyes, frowning. Leo's hand, offering his sword. Leo's eyes, he's crying through his mask. "Take this." Don's hand taking the sword from Leo. Narrow panel, Leo walks away, remaining sword drawn. "Fight well." END

ID: A cut off panel with dialogue, and a close on Leo, framed between two rocks, crying heavily. The says: You have become one with sorrow. You are sad. I am glad. Now we may speak. END

Leo climbs and the conversation continues.

Narration: There are sounds behind him, as he climbs. Voice: Your brother Donatello gave me joy when we met. I thought it would release me from my grief. Narration: Following him as he scampers every higher. Voice: I tried to go. But joy is ephemeral-- Narration: Leonardo reaches the top with haste. Voice: While melancholy lasts forever.

Leo sits at the mountain peak, thinks of his brothers, contemplates the sounds of the Adversary below and the Father of all Reptiles speaks to him more, as he falls into sleep.

This is my nexus, my holy spot. This is my prison, where I am trapped by my sadness. Dream of extinction. Dream of death. Once we were, now we are not. You and yours are what we could have been-- Had not the hairy ones come. All the scaly brethren are my children… But they hairy ones killed them-

Leo wakes slowly to a growl, then all at once with a yelp.

ID: Full page, the Father of all reptiles finishes in a yell. "THEY ATE MY EGGS!" The mammalian Adversary's loud growl just under the speech bubble. It looms in the panel, over Leo at the bottom, his sword drawn. The Adversary, large and rodent like, fur dark, eyes gleaming, foam dripping from its mouth. One arm severed and still bleeding, implanted in it are the weapons from Leo's brothers. Raph's sai in its leg, Mike's nunchaku in the stub of its arm, Don's staff and Leo's other sword in its chest. Other small rodents cling to its form. Surrounding the image, marginalia in the corners. Cracked eggs up top, rodents in the bottom. And a border of text, listing eras, genera and species of or relating to early mammals. END

Leo's brothers, injured, wounds wrapped and broken limbs braced, are following his trail. They see signs in the sky, Mikey thinks it looked like a massive turtle. Don is assured with his faith that this means the Father of All Reptiles is aiding Leo, and that they should rest. Mike and Raph leave him to sit at the mountain base (offering him another weapon for protection), and make their way up.

Narration: At the pinnacle, a warm, fresh breeze wafts downward. The trees below grow normal. Throughout the world, fossil Mesozoic eggs break apart, as fetal reptile souls are let loose. Paleontologists will find no more intact eggs. EVER.

ID: Full page panel, Leo sits at the base of the giant cracked egg of the Father of All Reptiles. Sword dangling, he's exhausted, blood splatters him, his sword, and the mottled surface of the egg shell. The Adversary's head and remaining hand are laying to one side, the dark mass of fur on his other. His brothers cresting the peak see him, and he says "We freed him. The wheel is moving again. The ring is whole." Caption box: And whole, the ring moves on. A Marginalia drawing in the corner shows a small rodent, the front of its body inside the cracked shell of an egg. END

#some shit #tmnt #tmnt mirage #wifi blogs mirage #<- more posts like this. and less like this. there #turbles...#pretty please someone be insane about this with me? i just think its sooooooooo #my heart hurts thinking about them yearning for when the earth might have been better suited for beings like them.#and the tension between don having this true like spiritual experience and their family bonds.#NORMALLY. im against stories making any of the turtles be skeptics. especially for mirage. it just comes off a little strange. with all #they've been thru. BUT I THINK THIS ONE REALLY SELLS IT. it really sells what they would be willing to go along with but also plenty of #reasons they would push back too. and maybe it seems a little corny. but i really like it just being. reptile specific.#instead of filtering some real cultures believes into the comic. not that it cant be done just. this is the 90s.#and none of the writers have really had the chops whove done it so far (and a non insig. number have.)#anyway what i say about the leatherhead issue. I love when don gets main character syndrome. SAD BOY.#really just a very very characterful issue i like it so much. when i saw the back cover again after reading. i got startled by the red mask #cause i forgot this was mirage. NOT. need to be clear. that i dont think TONES of mirage is also this characterful. just like.#the sort of. amalgamation in my head took over. also they sounded like 03 while i was reading. due to. don angst.#so so so long. 2 LAST THINGS #should outs to the other brother for the words help in second to last image. he came in clutch!#and i would just really like to redirect everyones attention to raphs smile in image 5. he has dimples! (turtle dimples...)#oh shit 3rd last thing. guess which image was scaring the shit outta be when i tired to sleep. 👁👄👁

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bellwitchfaggot · 2 years

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I do understand the way in which spirituality is like a deep-seated psychological human need and the way in which ppl seem to tend to go a little batshit crazy when that need is not being met like I think spirituality is kinda the like glue that goes in all the cracks of a person's perception of reality and I do think spirituality is extremely useful for not losing the plot of one's life entirely. This being said however I used to be a very spiritual person and then it was systemically abused out of me by the psychiatric industrial complex and like. I can see now I think that a lot of the beliefs I used to hold and the ways in which I would process and make sense of the world were not actually harmful to me and were also not actually harming anyone else and I think I was like a much happier and more fulfilled person when I was a much more spiritual person and I'm really interested in trying to reincorporate a lot of that into my life but at this point I straight dont know how to like do that without feeling like I'm cracking tf up inside due to the extreme dissonance surrounding spirituality that has been bred in me specifically by people who I believed were helping me for a very large part of my life

#going to find a snackie then maybe get blasted n take a nap idk im sooo sleepy tired #oh just realized its cuz i think i only slept for like 3 hrs #christ maybe i'll start going to church again at some point idfk #i really dont. even know where to begin with starting to unravel what spiritual beliefs i may or may not actually hold and also like for me #spirituality is soooo tied very very VERY deeply in with my severe fucking long term and still semi ongoing cult trauma i just. i really #dont even know where to BEGIN with figuring shit like this out but the mere thought of reintroducing spirituality into my life makes me #feel like such a deepseated fear and sense of danger and unease. ig i gota figure out where tf the line lies for me at some point tho #personal #like. i have very good reason to believe that during my childhood and teenage years i was specifically being groomed to be like acting as #the leader of some sort of fucking apocalypse death cult by my church and that really complicates things!#and then like at some point in my teenage years SOMEONE started to like try to help me get out somehow which took the form of me being like #introduced to like neo paganism and shit and those were some of the most enjoyable and like positive but simultaneously like apeshit years #of my life . and then i was like forcefully medically lobotomized for like years using strong prescription drugs that i didnt really unders #tand what i was being given and like basically fully convinced by someone or something that all spirituality is automatically psychosis #the thing about that is i think believing THAT has actually somewhat led to me accidentally just becoming even more fucking insane #idk its all very complicated and like at this point in my life and recovery i am aware that like i have literally hundreds if not thousands #of unintegrated parts and its just going to take some real fucking time of me like being allowed and safe and comfortable enough to like #fully start to unravel all those different lived experiences inside of me that someone or some group of ppl may or may not have been #specifically attempting to prevent me from ever fully unraveling for me to like. figure out what my own actual opinions are on this and a #lot of other things are #idk i didnt mean to type this many tags on this post or go this in depth but here we r i spose. much 2 think abt #did log

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caroloftheshells · 2 years

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long post re theory pedagogy again

the other thing about that vid (and another thing! lol) being that hierarchically a lot of the people doing the more interesting or out-there research and diversifying the field from a content perspective (and, tbh, demographically) are like grad students or early-career people who don’t even necessarily have any pedagogical flexibility & tend to be slotted in to teach lower-level theory courses-- whose outcomes are predetermined not only by general screwy nasm strictures but by whatever the professor down the line in the curriculum is teaching / expects people to know when they get there. and we get paid (much) less also than tenured professors. which is really a generic “thing about all academia” that doesn’t necessarily become a nefarious personal flaw on the part of said scholars and instead ought to be addressed at a structural level bc the scale of the issue exceeds individual instructors’ spheres of influence.

BUT music occupies such a fucked “totally separate from society” space in many ppl’s imaginations that it’s like oh man how dare it have the same issues as every other field of scholarship bc it shouldn’t “really” be a matter of scholarship in the first place. ie music is culturally rendered a “nothing matters just feel it” / “everything is ephemeral and there is only Innate Talent and nothing can be taught” sort of field such that any intellectualizing thereof &/or suggestion of learnabilty / non-innateness is deemed, like, boring & regressive by some people & i’d say especially people raised with a certain awareness of the “composer-genius” culture of wam education. like i’m completely on the “fuck partwriting parallel fifths are awesome” train as a matter of taste (for example) but that does not mean that learning what parallel fifths are-- and why some old european guys didn’t like them *bc they preferred it to sound like there was more than one voice and it’s easier to create that perceptually w/o an overtone effect* (eg)-- is going to like destroy your artistic Essence and make you a worse musician bc now you’re no longer an empty vessel put on this earth to channel brahms or whoever. & plus i think perpetuating the synonymizing of theory-as-field with wam harmonic rules not only is like factually misrepresentative of current research but also is sort of a self fulfilling prophesy such that ppl who would otherwise have completely fascinating things to say & questions to ask are discouraged from non-platitudinous & open-ended (theoretical) inquiry re the content and aims of their own rep & listening, and tacitly learn that composers’ ~~genius~~ descended from the heavens & you either get it or you don’t, you either “have talent” as a composer or you don’t, et cetera

#Which I Maintain is dangerous not bc i think there is a set method of learning all music(s) obviously but bc that's how you get like #weird essentialism & i'm thinking especially abt anecdotes i've heard re: vocal pedagogy where ppl have been subjected to (...)#racial discrimination; gender discrimination; fatphobia / discrimination based on having or not having a certain 'look' to go w your voice #& told they are 'naturally' inclined to sing or study certain genres of music & shouldn't try anything else (not even ranges! whole genres)#which is maybe sort of tangential but i think stems from this same deal of 'you just have to Feel it' & such #the idea of music as ephemeral and quasi-spiritually channeled such that you lose something if you approach it w scrutiny #or if you have to break it down in a way that; in its detail & precision; reads as divorced from immediate aesthetic judgment #the idea that there's some magic there not to be explained; that composition thus is a special ineffable pursuit for special people. bleh #& the... in depth research and nuance and hesitancy to have a snappy take that like ime culturally describes many theorists. is good #& is; again ime; something valued by several music scholars who sought it out as a Way Out Of a certain brand of meritocratic bullshit #toward a different brand of weird pedantry of course but i think it has its place despite being hooked academically 2 a toxic music culture #in the sense that; for sure; there are egregious issues; but the repertoire bias is unilaterally present in wam circles #& it's like well. your problem is 'with' the textbooks but since when has a so called 'voice degree'#at your average som / public institution without enormous fucking tons of money #unlike idk berklee lol #actually regarded choral singing; musical theatre; art song; rock vocals; et cetera with the same seriousness as a wagnerian opera career #and made a variety of music available from a performance perspective as well. i mean my undergrad was vaguely ok here but On The Whole...#bigger fish re funding in notated-music industry and degrees as job prep for shrinking market etc #anyway though...... i value myself too much to be a youtuber lol #imagine me appending that 'just saying things recreationally' post to this post #carol overreacts to life #theorycomp tag

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gone-fish-mode · 8 months

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ok. i have questions for some therians and otherkin. these are genuine and will be below the cut! you can dm or send an ask of tag or comment or whatever. these aren't too serious or anything i don't think. but they're bugging me and i need answers but im SHY and scared to send asks to folks who may not be comfy answering.

ok so first is deity, god, angel, and demon otherkin. and this one is a bit personal, but I've been thinking about it a lot. are you religious? or do you consider yourself a part of your religion of origin? how has your identity changed your relationship with spirituality and all that? i feel like being any sort of divine otherkin would cause for a few complications, especially if you were spiritual beforehand. it seems like an interesting dynamic and i am yet to really see anyone talk about it in depth (granted, i do not peruse yalls kin specific tags much, so what do I really know)

ok next. most mammal therians/kin apply to this one. Yall's ears. When I see conversations about ear placements and interacting with phantom limbs, its always described on the top of your head. But on most, it's right behind the eyes, maybe closer to the brow bone. is that where yall feel them, or is it almost like an anime character (yk what i mean)? If so, do you think it has to do with our heads being so much taller? Or is it a hybrid system.

ok. finally for my birds. why are the wings on yalls back? is it because hands are too foreign? Bird wings and human arms are the same limbs with evolved features. Like idk it just confuses me.

i know for the last two shifts are different for everyone and all that but. I'm such a literal and logical person that these things keep bugging me and they will continue to bug me until i get answers. if i felt wings on my back, i'd assume i was some harpy or griffin. eaugh. anyway! thank you for your time have a wonderful day.

#blub blub #otherkin #therian #alterhuman #canine therian #canine otherkin #feline therian #feline otherkin #bird therian #bird otherkin #wolf therian #voidkin #divinekin #godkin #deitykin #demonkin #actually angelic #angelkin #fallen angelkin

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newcathedrals · 26 days

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can i ask you a dumb question how do you classify a 'classic' winnix fic i am so curious

I am so glad someone asked! I am so passionate about the “classic” style of winnix. “Classic” doesn’t refer to when the fic was written (it doesn’t matter if it’s old or not) or its popularity (it doesn’t have to be super popular). It's not a super common term or anything, but I found a pattern in many winnix fics bc I read so much and started thinking of these elements as part of a "genre."

Here are the musts of a “classic winnix” fic:

Not an AU. events line up closely to the progression of the events in the series, no huge divergences. diehard writers even line events up with the real Dick Winter’s book/other Band of Brothers books

If the plot includes time immediately post-war, it often takes place in NJ and involves Dick working at Nixon Nitration

Kathy, Nix’s sister, Nix’s father, and Dick’s family members are part of the plot if there’s any post-war plot

Lewis’s alcoholism is an issue in the plot and in Dick and Nix’s relationship. Nix struggles with some sort of mental health issue: alcoholism, depression, self-worth issues, etc

Nix and Dick both have issues related to their sexuality because of the homophobia of the period. Even if one or both of them have fully accepted themselves, this was a process they had to go through. Almost always, Dick has spiritually reconciled his sexual attraction with his Christianity. Internalized homophobia and societal homophobia are issues that they have to face.

There are other elements that are definitely not “required” but are super common in the “classic” winnix fic style. Most of the classic style fics will have a few of these elements:

Depending how long the post-war plot of the fic is, Dick and Nix almost always end up farming in the end. Chicken farming, grain farming, and producing animal feed are popular choices. If they end up farming, they always end up in rural Pennsylvania

Stanhope Nixon is an antagonist and blocks Dick and Nix’s ultimate goals of happiness and peace. He’s an alcoholic, and “gave” Nix the disease through childhood trauma, or even just genetics

Nix struggles to be a father to his daughter, and struggles with this issue.

Harry and Kitty are Nix and Dick’s closest friends that remain from their time in the war. They’re not explicitly homophobic and accept Dick and Lew as a couple (especially if they’re not outwardly affectionate in front of Kitty and Harry)

Lewis often does not feel deserving of Dick and struggles to accept Dick’s love. Sometimes he thinks that Dick should move on from him and marry a woman, and that he stands in the way of Dick’s “true” happiness and progress in life. Dick has to convince Nix that he’s the one for him, and that making a life with Lewis would make him happiest.

Bastogne foxhole activities (iykyk)

Some writers pay attention to the speech patterns and slang of the time, and incorporate 1940s language into their writing

I never get enough of this style! Even though the fics within this “genre” have so many similarities with each other, each writer also brings something new to the style and plot. The longer fics within the classic style also feel the most reminiscent of published novels. Maybe I’ll make a list of my favorites in the classic style (although many are in both of my winnix fic rec posts). The peak of classic winnix is the “What Things We Have Heard Together” series by joissant in my opinion. Some other greats are Fiorediloto’s "The Earth Below My Feet" series and the shorter “Give Me Light, Give Me Life” by an orphan account. But I also find more fics that fit into the "classic" style every day!

#winnix #winnix fic #band of brothers #hbo war #maybe this term will catch on...

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hyrule-in-a-pokeball · 11 months

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GANONDORF AND "CALAMITY" GANON: TWO SEPARATE BEINGS

Calamity Ganon, as we know, was more like a primal force of nature, though it did display some level of intelligence with its ability to formulate and execute plans (Spawning the blights and unleashing them, corrupting the Guardians, etc) it wasn't exactly a big brain genius. I mean, come on, it had 10,000 years to plan, and the best it came up with, while effective, was "Uno reverse lol" And with an additional 100 years its plan became "Cyborg time!"

And then just. "Big pig!"

It wasn't a tactical genius. It won because Hyrule was overly reliant on the ancient Sheikah technology to the point that they were helpless against that very technology when it was turned against them.

But what the hell was Calamity ganon? Well, we see it in three, maybe four forms. Pig Cloud

Which Creating a Champion states is a "spirit composed of malice"

Fashion disaster Ganon

An incomplete, slapped together body made of Malice and machinery (Apparently he started building this body when he sensed Link awaken in the chamber of resurrection)

Kaiju Ganon

A body formed of pure malice as a final "screw you though" after his cool new cyborg body was destroyed.

And the fourth body is possibly the malice itself, seeing as he seemed to be hell bent on using it to make his new bodies. It was like clumps of flesh just sort of laying around waiting to be assembled into something.

So now that we know the calamity's 3 (or 4) main forms, I want to focus on the pig cloud, because I think that is Calamity Ganon's truest form. The malice is something it created, either intentionally or as a byproduct of simply existing, and its other bodies were things made of that malice.

Now, we know that Calamity Ganon was utterly destroyed at the end of Breath of the wild. It didn't like, return to Dry Ganondorf in the depths. That thing got nuked.

And that means that Ganondorf's consciousness was always in his dry body and not acting through the Calamity. In fact, when Rauru seals him away, he taunts Rauru and says "Thousands of years will pass in the blink of an eye" which to me says he knows he gonna be stuck in that spot for a hot minute.

The Calamity spawned from him, but it was not him. Its almost like a giant, out of control Phantom Ganon thats just sort of up there doing its best. But with Ganondorf sealed away, how did Calamity Ganon get loose? Well, it might seem odd, but I think Majora's mask (the object) can point us in the right direction

Majora's Mask was once just a normal mask. Carved from normal wood. (actually if you look at the renders it looks more like it was carved from stone, but whatever) It wasn't alive, it didn't possess magic powers. It was just a mask. A mask used in ancient hexing rituals. Over time, the negative energies created from those hexing rituals sort of infected the mask and eventually became conscious, with the mask acting as a body. It was a Tulpa that was housed inside the mask. (A tulpa is a concept in mysticism of an object or being that is created through mental or spiritual power. To make it extremely basic: A tulpa is an imaginary friend that stops being imaginary. Actually in that sense, Phantom Ganon is basically a tulpa.)

So, Ganondorf, sealed away, conscious or not, was just seething. Pure hate for Hyrule, for Rauru the first king, and all his descendants. That hate was so pure and intense that it basically manifested as Calamity Ganon. The pig cloud. A separate entity born of Ganondorf's sheer spite and hate.

And if you need further proof that they are not the same entity, we need only look to Ganondorf's profile in Tears of the Kingdom, unlocked after completing the game.

Ganondorf had been slowly working on his revival for 100 years INDEPENDENTLY of Calamity Ganon. Link and Zelda just pulled a "wrong place/wrong time" when they found him at the exact moment the seal finally weakened enough to break.

Man what would Ganondorf have done if he broke out of his seal like 5 or 8 years earlier, made his way to the surface, and found pig cloud ganon just up there partying?

#The legend of Zelda #Tears of the kingdom #Breath of the wild #Majora's Mask #Ganondorf #Calamity Ganon

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thewertsearch · 1 year

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Kanaya was the one to name Rose? Does this mean all the 'Homestuck Player' actions from Act 1 were trolls all along?

This was a mechanic I had long since dismissed as a quirk of early Homestuck, back before its rules had been solidified. I love that even old mysteries like this can come full-circle.

It also means this was definitely Karkat.

GA: I Am A Troll From Another Universe Using A Chat Client Utility Which Is Capable Of Contacting You And Your Friends At Any Point Of Your Lives Which I Choose Up To And Including The Moment Of Your Own Incompetence Fueled Self Destruction

Imagine if this was the first message we'd seen from a troll, back in Act 3. It would've taken me half a dozen posts just to digest the implications!

GT: you are a time traveling space alien from the future, sent here to study humans? GA: No GT: are you from mars? is it a mission of peace? GA: No John You Werent Listening GT: what does your time machine look like? a phone booth? phone booths are a popular thing for some reason. GA: Damn It

Well, you were looking for a way to make this interesting. Whatever else you can say about the John Egbert stream-of-consciousness, it's certainly never boring.

GT: were you lured to earth by a huge gyroscopey thing that jodie foster piloted in contact, while matthew mcconaughey sort of acted as her spiritual guide i guess… GA: What The Hell GT: and then he kind of preached to her about having faith instead of believing in the sciences so hard all the time, and i guess in the end she believed him, maybe? GT: actually, im not even sure what the point of mcconaughey was in that movie. but he was still awesome. GT: and then jodie found her dad on an alien planet... but i think he was a ghost or something? or maybe an alien in disguise.

I feel like I'm getting spoiled for Contact, which I've never seen - but I'm also learning that Contact is apparently buckwild enough that spoilers don't matter.

GA: Im A Girl Not A Boy GT: oh, sorry. GT: i don't know why i thought you were. GA: It Happens

Especially on a planet where dimorphism doesn't appear to matter. I feel like troll gender expression would be more about presentation than physical traits, in a manner similar to Discworld dwarfs.

GT: were you trolling rose too? [...] GA: I Just Spoke To Her In The Future GA: [...] She Said To Paste Something From Our Conversation

That was John, actually - and just before that, he told you to message him in a way that would make the ensuing conversations as convoluted as possible.

So far, you're succeeding with flying colors, and copypasting predestined messages is just the icing on the cake.

GA: Now Im Wondering If You Might Be Trolling Me As Well GT: ok well, just between you and me… GT: SOMEONE here is getting trolled. GT: and it just might be all three of us.

Again, you're using Trollian. Any conversation you have in this app is guaranteed to troll you, your partner, and probably a couple of bystanders for good measure. It's happened before.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #2702 #s61

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rrat-king · 4 months

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walk with me bird,,, thinking about kristen's lack of self preservation especially in sophmore year- she does crazy shit again and again and it is funny but like. when you actually look at it, its like this elaborate performance. so much going on in kristen's brain, losing her family, (we know she's clearly still thinking about it with the start of sy being her returning to her brothers) losing her religion and then recreating it and still feeling lost.

all her life being full and told that this is the thing- that will protect you as long as you are good so kristen is good and then realizes oh. i was meant for something terrible actually, my church who vowed to protect me is actually trying to make me a hellmouth. like oh. great well i dont feel safe in that anymore, im always arguing with my parents because even they are still polluted with their religion but she lets it go she tries to find something else. and then she ends fy with her new religion and immediately doesnt like it, over the summer it still doesnt click and she changes it again, she puts her faith or even lack of it at the forefront as she does these insane choices, like a leap of faith. like oh someone has got to save me if i do this- surely someone will. (also pushing my agenda of kristen's faith eventually forming into believing in her friends bc they are the ones who always save her not the gods even though i do love cass)

like ally talking about chaos not being cute anymore really makes me think of all this- because it's like kristen being like oh well if it goes wrong than at least it's some sort of relief from this pressure of being something and at least im not plagued with thinking about not being good enough for my own parents. like her being so not aggressive but trying to counter sandralynn too- like not wanting to view her as a parental figure but as a person. kristen like almost tries to parent her in a way which sounds weird but its very like she can't turn it off in her head because she's been raised with expectation so she does feel on the same level as adults when in reality she is not but kristen believes like oh i can solve this here maybe u shouldnt be doing this thing in her relationship. i think part of it is kristen not wanting to see a parent become better and then have to wonder why her's didn't. like was she not enough for them to want to me better. it's so complex i adore kristen's character and it kinda surprises me how often she becomes very 2d in the fandom but alas, many thoughts about her

i am absolutely walking with you. i love what your talking about with her dynamic with sandra lynn (which. i will always be crazy about her and sandra lynn they are just both so intersting in thier relationships) but yeah it makes a lot of sense that she doesn't know how to properly interact with her if you think about the amount of pressure she has been given to be a spiritual leader through church or if you hc her as a parentified older sister to her little brothers (which i do personally) so she's not thinking about her interaction with sandra lynn as like, a regular adult cuz she hasn't really had those interactions before, especially when it comes to an adult not trusting her.

and i think that's why she just feels so insane in sophmore year, jsut like, she's going from something super rigid to something where it feels like she can do anything and that's fucking scary. like she has a place to stay but she doesn't really have any parents to answer to, she has a god but she has so much doubt it doesn't feel reliable, all she really has as stability is her friends and her girlfriend, and i feel like she is just incredibly reckless cuz like, she's doing better but its almost like she has nothing to lose? but she does. and she did, and i think that was what beardsley was saying about the chaos not being cute anymore, like kristen was acting like she was invinvible at times and that not only got her hurt, but also those around her, and im excited to see how she grows from that.

#anon beloved thank you so much for the ask #bird answers #d20 #fantasy high #kristen applebees #dimension 20

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windvexer · 1 year

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for like the fifth time I'm going to try and say my feelings on "you have to do physical support actions or your magic won't work"

if you're not familiar with this it basically means performing regular ""mundane"" actions that correspond with your magical intent. Cast a house protection spell, but also lock the doors. Cast a job spell, but also apply for jobs.

At face value it does not seem like very bad advice and in fact I do think that for many people it's decent advice, in fact I suspect it's helpful for many,

but I find an intense difference between these two statements:

"Mundane supportive actions can be a helpful technique for manifestation. It's something you might try as part of your magical experiments or for troubleshooting when your magic isn't working well,"

and,

"You must perform corresponding physical actions or your magic will not work."

And I think that most people just sort of automatically assume some version of this to be true without ever really thinking about it. And today I'd like to tug at some of this base assumption yarn and see what the cardigan looks like when we're done.

Here are some things I see said about this:

"Magic follows the path of least resistance [assumption of its own, but let's roll with it] and taking mundane supportive action reduces resistance against the spell."

Well, does it though?

Let's assume that magic takes the path of least resistance

(and gods, spirits, and entities always, universally, and unfailingly function in a way that simply takes the least amount of energy possible and never behave in unique and unpredictable ways according to their personality and whims)

and that the path of least resistance for a job spell is that the delivery person is going to hand you a package at your door and say, "hey, we're hiring, I get a bonus referral if you call this number by Friday."

Okay, so that's the path of least resistance. By, like, a huge margin. Let's say that path has 5 resistance points (low!).

And you applying for jobs online or in person has 750 resistance points (holy shit, that's quite high).

Like, right now, for whatever reason, you're just not getting hired when you submit your resume (*your "best friend" hid swear words in your job experience column as a "joke").

For this thought experiment, the spell is simply going to manifest by the delivery person handing you a referral printout.

So let me ask you this

Is going out to apply to jobs with your resume actually reducing "resistance" in a way that matters at all?

In fact, in some scenarios, is it possible that the actions you take (turning in your tainted resume) increase resistance, even though from our perspective it is supposed to be helping?

In this thought exercise, these mundane actions which are supposed to be helping are either irrelevant to the path the spell is actually going to take, or are actually increasing "resistance."

So -

Are mundane actions always necessary to compel spells to manifest?

And if they are always necessary, what is the mystical function which links unrelated and unhelpful actions to the actual manifestation of the spell?

I've never seen anyone explain that part. Because I think people would say something like

The Universe wants to see you work towards your own goals

In which case, that is the spell, I've already done that, it was me casting the spell!!!!!

(Also I'm not New Age, I do not believe in a conscious or co-creating Universe in a way that matters, and my spiritual beliefs about the Universe do not intersect with my magic)

or maybe they'd say like

Splashing around in the pond of Applying For Jobs somehow causes ripples in the Jobs pond that makes it easier for the spell to manifest,

like apparently there's some sort of surface tension that we need to break in order to allow the spell to manifest at all.

And to be perfectly honest,

yeah.

I believe in that one.

I believe it helps!!

It's the equivalent of a cartoon where a big cloud of dust kicks up and then something important is swapped out behind the scenes but we don't really know how it happened.

But!

I don't believe it helps all of the time!

I don't believe it is necessary all of the time!

When facing a very stagnant or resistant situation, I personally find that a valid magical technique is splashing about in the pond and getting the silt stirred up and then bippity boppity, the change happened!

This of course implies that such actions may be unnecessary and even very unhelpful when:

Situations are rapidly changing and fast-paced

Situations are very delicate and it was already never safe for you to take the only available mundane options

...you didn't need to do so, because the spell was going to manifest just fine anyway

The splashing is actually getting directly in the way of causing manifestation

Let's revisit that job spell where your ""friend"" fucked with your resume.

Now let's say that your job spell has specific requirements.

Let's say that you must have a work from home position in your niche field.

The only way to get these jobs (besides in-person networking, which you can't do because you are disabled) is to apply online.

And in this field you do not fill out little job apps. You always send in your resume.

Every single time you send in your resume, you are unknowingly sending a tampered resume that uses extremely inappropriate language.

Because you have been told you must take mundane supportive action or your spell will not manifest, you actively seek out employers and send them your resume. They never reply.

Once you send in your resume, even employers who were talking to you stopped contact.

Someone on Twitter reaches out to you! Unexpected! Great lead! You send in your resume (you must perform physical supportive actions or your spell will not manifest) and...

They block you.

"Now hold on," perhaps you are saying, "this is such a specific situation. And not very reasonable, either. A majority of people will be able to perform physical supportive actions that are actually helpful."

In which I return to point #1, where if the only way the spell was going to manifest was via the delivery driver, how do you know any specific action you are taking is actually helpful?

And waving back to point #2, which is, it is reasonable, actually, for people to be doing everything appropriate and reasonable to support their spellwork, but unknownst to them there is some hidden problem that is causing mundane actions to fuck up manifestation,

whether or not it is a simple and obvious problem like a fucky resume, or whether it is a very obscure and esoteric problem,

But then also let's roll right into point #3, which is,

I just don't believe that a majority of practitioners, even very good practitioners, are so adept at spellwork that they know exactly the "path of resistance" their spells are going to take,

because for some reason when people say "path of least resistance" apparently they're envisioning like 2 or 3 huge macro channels we can get in there and dig out with shovels,

and not ten thousand cracks the size of spider legs smashed into the mirror of reality,

each one almost as equally likely as one another,

running into each other like colors in a liquid prism,

many of which may not respond at all to our clumsy actions,

may be specifically resistant to our actions,

or operate on planes of existence so Other that it is a miracle the intersect with physical reality at all, and yet are as alike as any crack to shunt our manifestations to our feet.

"Magic follows the path of least resistance" is a delightful nod at Newtonian physics, and doesn't actually imply that, like, these paths are things we can necessarily interact with in a way that matters,

are large enough that we can adeptly manipulate them with our mountainous, clunky bodies,

are channels we recognize or personally believe in,

or even exist within our realm of comprehension.

The "path of least resistance" could be nine hundred thoughts flitting through a series of retail worker's minds, one secret shopper not being able to find the right brand of salsa, a dropped cigarette, and an exasperated manager finally turning to Annoying Chad and saying, "you said you can get your friend to work here, right?"

well, anyway.

Thoughts like these are why I question this magical "law" as being a law in the first place, and why some of the stuff we take for granted in manifestation not really mattering at all, sometimes.

I just believe that magic is supposed to work.

I do think that very often, and for mysterious reasons of mystery, mundane support actions can help. (splashing in the pond, &etc)

I think that if you are personally having trouble manifesting, or if you are new to magic and you're not sure what to try first,

experimenting with mundane support actions is just dandy.

I think that if you're more experienced in magic and looking to try something new, experimenting with magical support actions is a nifty way to flesh out your personal praxis.

But I think that unless you are specifically working with a magical tradition that requires mundane support actions,

then this is not an actual rule or law at all. It's just a technique, and like any other can help, harm, or do nothing at all.

#pphfphfhfh. well #i got it written #i don't know if these are my final thoughts but there you have it #uhhh lets tag this as #theory #spell crafting #tbl

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headspace-hotel · 1 year

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Howdy! I've been following your discussions of ecology and spirituality and indigenous ways of knowing with interest! If it's alright I'd like to share some thoughts. A commonality I've noticed in a lot of the people who object to a lot of the things you're saying, and I think you've noticed as well, is that they seem to see science as a way of accessing reality without filtering by bias and belief. I think that idea comes from how we teach science in the US, and probably more broadly. We tend to teach science as a set of objective unchanging facts and truths without much detail or thought on how we came to know these things. My personal belief is that it would be far better to teach science as a process. Maybe have a class tracing the history of scientific ideas and understanding previous scientific or even pre-scientific thoughts and theories.

I've commented on your posts a few times and you may know I'm a geologist. As I've gotten further into my studies, I've had to change my idea of what science is. I now see it as a living process of making ever more useful simplifications about the world. The world itself is far too complex to understand even one aspect of it in its totality, so we observe patterns and try to simplify them to make models and rules out of them to understand behaviors of the world around us. Scientific models aren't always true in a simple direct way, but what they are is useful. If it isn't useful get rid of it and make a new hypothesis or conjecture or theory. I think one culture difference between different scientific disciplines is in how the subject matter confronts you with complexity. Much of the rigour that gives physics and chemistry their prestige for being able to explain so much stems from the fact that they remove as much complexity and impurity as possible. I think that baked into that sort of hierarchy of sciences is how close they are to pulling all of the different theories within the discipline under a universalizing theory (ie., quantum mechanics/relativity for physics being the best example) but I'm now off topic so I'll stop.

That turned into a bit of a stream of conscious mess, but I think I put down what I wanted to. I've been really enjoying your thoughts, and it's been (as you may be able to tell from the length of this) food for thought for myself in a similar way as reading Braiding Sweetgrass was for me. Keep it up!

basically, yes, correct. and also that, in times and places where "spirituality" and "science" are not culturally considered separate, you can't bring your "science is about the real world of real things, spirituality is about things that can't be measured or proven" framework because it Doesn't Work

The oldest mathematicians viewed mathematics as what we would today call "spiritual;" that doesn't make mathematics not real. Just because shamans with a framework that deals in the world of spirits use X plant for medicinal purposes, doesn't mean the plant doesn't have medicinal properties or that the shaman's usage isn't rooted in observations of what that plant does.

And if you went back in time to a Neolithic shaman with nothing in common with you and tried to explain the germ theory of disease to them, through a universal translator so both of you could understand, you could explain that mammoth pox isn't caused by a slight to the mammoth god by accidentally knocking over the mammoth god idol.

But you couldn't explain that mammoth pox isn't caused by evil spirits that leave the body of a mammoth when it is killed. It would be literally impossible to explain this. Because the Neolithic shaman's conceptual framework for "evil spirits" doesn't have a stipulation that it excludes microorganisms. It has no reason to.

And instead of trying to explain to the shaman THAT "demon=things that don't exist in physical reality" and THEN explain that demons (by this definition) aren't real, you would have to realize that you and the shaman are using different models for the same thing, and the shaman isn't fundamentally misattributing the cause of illness in any meaningful way, they just don't know exactly how it works.

#science

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troomtroom101 · 4 days

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Toon Quest Theory PT.1: Who is Pib and the meaning behind the Book of Life

okay so I know @toontails announced their return (idk your pronouns im sorry!!) but I recently reread thru the Toon Quest story and I’m finally clicking some stuff together that I’ve been wanting to maybe throw out there!! Please guys listen to me i have been thinking of this for weeks, TQ has so many open ends and mystery that it’s not even funny. I’m a person of wanting to understand things so I made this post to share my thoughts with you guys, and yes I did research don’t make fun of me!!!

so, to start off first and simple. I wanted to get down to the point where the Book of Life is first mentioned, AA mentioned that the Book of Life dosen’t randomly select its holders which makes sense because the book is a lingage and it somewhat of a heirloom (ok probs not the best wording but still) it was also mentioned that the Book of Life chooses its holders like I said, generational wise but also because of the attributes that the subject brings to the team. I couldn’t find the screenshot but AA answered an anon ask at one point stating that. Now if we look more into the team we can understand why exactly they make up the team they are now, instead of a group of goofballs we actually do have a pretty well looking team.

Oswald’s attribute would be his luck. Which is seen in the first chapter when he managed to save everhine in the van from the semi truck crashing into them, which follows with him cheering that he still had his luck.

Bendy’s attribute from what I can assume, would be the fact that he’s a demon, and from what AA has stated/revealed the strongest one on the team (though Bendy himself might not know that) I’m taking it that in this AU, Bendy isn’t created from the ink machine but as it was said from AA he was accidentally taken from his home and placed on the surface (I can’t find the screenshot of the authors confirmation but trust me!!) I say that because Abel is after Bendy, which was also stated. And I’ll also go into why he might be after Bendy in my next post. But bendy’s attribute would be his strength and the fact that he’s basically inhuamne. Not to mention toons are hard to kill as is and since he’s a toon demon, it’ll take a lot to really kill Bendy and I’m sure we’ll see more of that in detail with future chapters.

Donald’s attribute would be his bad luck, which may be bad but is actually a good thing as in one of the chapters his bad luck basically murked the spirit spider that was chasing after them in the cave sequence.

His attribute clearly comes in handy when it’s needed. Not to mention it weighs out Oswald’s good luck with his bad luck. Creating a balance.

For Cuphead and Mugman, it would have to be because they harness power to shot their peashooters, and because as stated they defeated the Devil some years ago. Though with their character turnaround with tagging along with the TQ gang, this makes them a great advocate with knowing some plans about the opposing team.

And Panchito would have to be for his intellucal integrity as he himself was the one to even put the band together to begin with. Traveling overseas just to find one of them. His morals seems to be very strong and I believe there’s more to his character as he was the first one to recive the book and get any sort of information about it, as he claimed that the thought of the book came to him in a dream that he has had for years. Which would make sense why the book would go to Panchito first out of everyone because his person is uplifting, loyal and fairly responsible (in a way)

the book clearly harness some spiritual power as AA has stated. It’s not just a book, so I believe the book is what sent Panchito these visions. Also he’s good to and that it’s clear he’s a sharpshooter. Maybe even as good as Bettigan.

And moving onto Y/n. Her attribute, as we all know. Is undetermined because she’s a human. Not a toon. She dosen’t have any cool tricks, she dosen’t entirely have magic as it was said that she was supposed to, but lo and behold. She dosen’t. And she never will, as AA has confirmed. But inside the story it was say MULTIPLE times that the reader was supposed to be given a power to help her.

it’s refered to as a mark and how it was supposed to be given to Hector, but because of time and how he and his group couldn’t successfully go on with the plan of figuring out what Ruby Falls was (the death of his friends) he came to a witch in the woods to send a message to Y/n about how her having a mark would help her defend herself from darkness and save mankind.

But as we noticed, Y/n has no power and so far has been fighting and defending herself based on her agility and luck. As it’s seems multiple times, she’s not very good in combat unless the other toons are with her to back her up. But by herself on a 1 on 1 combat, she fails exceedingly bad at defending herself, which I won’t bash her too much as she’s just a teenage girl who’s revealed to be a homebody with no friends, fighting against various combative individuals who clearly has more training and knowledge in the ring than she does. You’re not gonna wake up one day and be able to take down Batman. But there is one thing about her that I will point out. That she’s very observant and can very much tell when things are off in certain situations. As stated by AA.

Reader is indeed a fast learner as when Ruck was teaching her archery, she was able to develop a knowledge on how to properly use a bow and arrow. And I must say. Archery is very much a tactile and difficult field to get in as it takes a lot of body strength and muscle strength, but with little time she had. She was able to adapt very quickly as seen with her being able to successfully get bullseye during the Warrior Falls contestant picking for the finale’s.

Though that dosen’t mean we’ll run right over the fact that Y/n dosen’t have magic as states as she was suposoed to have. It even concerns her to a point of questioning why she dosen’t have it. Does the book decide not to give her magic? Does it often happen for these quirks to just not show up. It was clear that someone or something is suposoed to give them these quirks as Hector denied wanting to have it as he stated he would save it for Y/n. Which also comes into play that this is probably a one time use.

So where is it? And who has it? Well. Who else is the only one in the series that has magic? Well, we have Bendy. Who’s able to bend liquids (which from what I see it’s preferably ink) and he can also make portals.

But this can also be because of the fact that Bendy is an actual demon and harness power that not any ordinary toon can. But that also makes me say. Do you know who else has the ability to create rifts and portals?

And y’all look at this FUCKING KEY WORD!!! PUDDLE

I swear this is not a COINCIDENCE!! I make this side by side comparison because at some point it was mentioned that Bendy would be the one prone to betray Y/n. Now I don’t wanna point fingers, but I believe Bendy may be a reason why Y/n is powerful. Or 1 of the many reasons. Because my second reason is going to be Pib. As it was said that Pib plays a big role and sort of a fairly meaningful role to not only Y/n, but to everytbing. Now, I don’t wanna be that guy but I really do want to say that Pib is actually a good guy and Y/n is a bad guy. AA did at one point said that Y/n is morally grey and that she dosen’t really care to be a hero, meaning that Y/n dosen’t wanna put her life in the line for just the sake of it.

which may seem like a bad thing but, honestly? We’ll probably get more into why the reader may feel this way and why she may essentially reach a point where she feels this isn’t really fit for her. Pib isn’t exactly a bad guy because their only objective to them is to kill Y/n. That’s it. They don’t care for the book. They don’t care for the situation or who has the book, but it’s just to kill Y/n.

and the opposing team also wants Y/n dead as well. And only her. They don’t care for the others but just wanting her dead

I’ll get into later why I might think why they want Oswald out of everyone. But that’s besides the point, I find it concerning that Y/n has such a large bounty over her head when she hasn’t done anything to anyone or from what we know and have been seeing she’s pretty much innocent. Before I get into Pib, I also want to put on the table why I may think everyone wants Y/n eliminated first.

I’m chapter 5, Argus states that when she kills Y/n, the book will be in her possession.

She claims that when Y/n’s dead her bloodline will be no more, now I want to say she’s refering to Y/n being the last of her generation to hold the book in her possession, but now that I thought more on it, maybe when Y/n dies, the book just automatically releases its hold on the others making it accessible to anyone. So in some sort of way, Y/n has to be a key, a valuable key and asset to keeping that book locked. Whuch can explain why Ruck is trying him damn hardest to teach Y/n under the time he has to defend herself properly seeing she has no power to properly do it. Because if she dies. Everyone is shit out of luck, anyone in the world can just access the book. Which can explain why the villians want Y/n dead so bad. if break the lock. You have access to the riches. Now that’s if the others will still be there to defend the book from being taken still.

which moves back to Pib. Now we all know. The books signature glow is a yellow/golden light or aurora. It helped them navigate where to find eachother. Certain locations and even a piece to Ruby’s Heart. This book is basically its only navigation. But who else has that certain golden glow to them.

In the recent sneak peek, Pib was able to tug some hair from their head and use the essence of it to creating a golden line to lead them to where the TQuesters are. The same navigating line that they used many times to help them travel around. And Pib’s glow is yellow and golden. A color that's assossiated with the book. Maybe Pib is also a keeper of the book, and maybe the magic that was supposed to be given to Y/n was handed to Pib somehwere along the line. But who would have given this power to Pib. The only other person I can think of, would be the main villian. The man in the trenchcoat. As he was the sole purpose of all of this happening to begin with. Though he has little screentime. It’s clear that he’s going to be a big problem. Pib’s power was also stated that it’s just about as strong as Bendy and Abel. Abel being a literal arch Angel—which is mentioned that Abel’s sole purpose on earth is to kill dark magic that’s located in the Shadow Realm. A split between physical world and the spiritual world. Which I can assume is where Bendy came from as well as Zip and Zot as they were confirmed to be from the shadow realm. I belive the things from this world are dangerous and cannot be contained. Which is why Abel is even present to begin with. He’s role is to destory anything that’s from that world. Including Bendy. Now why he has such a hatred towards Bendy, I don’t know.

Not to mention Abel is at the top of the list of things that is very hard to be defeated so it’s safe to say that the book refering to angels being able to banish darkness, Abel is what it’s refering to.

Pib and Abel works hand in hand because they both have the power to do a lot of damage. I’ll make pt2 going over more bc I need you guys to hear me OUUTTTTTTTTTTTT

@toontails I WILL NOT BACK DOWN UNTIL I FULLY UNDERSTAND

#toon quest #Theory #big brain moment

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kaelio · 5 months

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DECEPTIVE MOVIE TRAILERS FOR DIFFERENT PARTS OF THE VAMPIRE CHRONICLES IF THEY WERE A CINEMATIC SERIES:

I love imagining misleading movie trailers, it's just a thing I do. If I had infinite money and time and a time machine and the rights to adapt the Anne Rice vampire novels, these are examples of extremely dishonest trailers for those movies I would enjoy:

Devil's Minion: Have it appear to be some kind of psychological thriller, either about a guy who is perceiving his stalker as a literal monster, or a guy who feels some Presence stalking him and envisions it as a mysterious, beautiful young man. He's not really my favorite but we need Christopher Nolan directing, like really hitting that Memento tone. What's real?? What's not real?? Daniel appears to be using drugs and the audience is like ohhh is this about addiction? And then it totally seems like a dark addiction metaphor, like Oscar bait maybe. Even when Daniel gets a handjob it isn't clear because Requiem for a Dream got a lot of awards.

(*Don't try to smoosh in with Queen of the Damned, you have enough going on here.)

Tale of The Body Thief: A romantic drama that doesn't seem to realize its intensely worrisome undercurrents (a la "Passengers"). We see a woman of the cloth ministering to a homeless man who, following a severe medical crisis that lands him in her care, seems to be having spiritual delusions. She connects with him over their shared faith... and their desire for meaningful intimacy. We get a swell of orchestral music... some sort of scene of them kissing in the rain... another scene from which we can infer they're in bed together, but the camera is centered on a crucifix on her wall. "I will find the power to come back to you..." he says.

Tale of The Body Thief (Part 2): Wham! Actually a lot of the audience doesn't realize that last trailer never gave you a title! Maybe they think it's a gimmick! It takes them a moment to realize this old man (Indiana Jones??) racing around the cruise ship is accompanied by the same actor as the homeless man described above. "GET THAT MAN!" David shouts as Raglan does some sort of parkour that isn't quite extreme enough to cue in the audience that he's supposed to be inhuman. We see Lestat-in-body pushing through people in a rave taking place on the cruise ship dance floor. It seems like a cynical tie-in because everyone is young and hot there (not really the primary demographic for cruises). Camera pans over some sort of jacuzzi tub with a bunch of women in bikinis in it. "Excuse me, ladies!" someone says as they jump over the tub and since he has a ripped shirt and he's hot the girls in the tub go "ooooooh!" And maybe they have cocktails so it's supposed to be funny. But really sell it as an action-comedy and then WHANG! "Tale of the Body Thief" appears in huge text onscreen like "COMING THIS SPRING" and Mojo's little head pops up from the bottom of the screen and barks.

The Vampire Lestat: Oh you just shoot it like The Favorite, like the exact same cinematography, or maybe Chevalier, but it's about a sensitive stage actor in pre-Revolutionary France, trying to focus on his art as the world becomes more fraught around him. It invites you into his sensitive artistic soul.... Is there time for gentleness, for optimism, for art, in an era of nascent conflict? What will social forces have in store for him, or for his troubled companion? And then maybe you do give away the game where at the last second you see the window explode and the big evil Nosferatu-Magnus bursts through the door with his big gummy mouth with the two fangs like "Rrrrraarrhg!!"

Memnoch the Devil: Starts with some overplayed song for 45-50 year old men in the background of a scene of Lestat and David stealing the artifacts from the dead Roger. Inter-cut with bits of Lestat dismembering Roger's body. They get into a car (no rooftops, Anne, it would look silly on screen! We can't!) and smirk at each other—apparent heist film. Lestat turns the knob for the radio and then another song for loser guys starts to play. "Dora's gonna get mad," David says, as if we're taking precious seconds of this trailer to no-homo the whole thing and establish regressive attitudes about women all at once. Lestat probably says something like "Chicks, man." The movie promises no actual content or any reason to be interested in it, as with most heist movies.

Memnoch the Devil: Hey? Is that the same guy? They're using the same guy for... what is this, a remake of It's A Wonderful Life? God this is worse than when Chris Pratt started voicing both Mario and Garfield. Find another actor!

Blood & Gold: We see a clawed hand sticking out of a glacier and suddenly... it moves!! Ice cracks around the hand! A huge, mysterious, looming figure bursts out of the ice, covered in rags and holding a giant battle axe!! Thunder and lightening appear in the background suddenly for no reason, and a song from Iron Maiden kicks in. Implies heavily that it's some sort of dark action film that may or may not be trying to lean on the popularity of Marvel's "Thor" movies. Like that Winnie the Pooh movie where he kills people. "THE OLDEST STORY..." the trailer narrator guy says, "... IS REVENGE"

The Vampire Armand: You start off with all of the boys sitting around, having a good time, talking about their futures, all the places they're planning to go, the things they want—like, highschool yearbook signing energy. And then there's this one kid who seems kind of smug and suddenly he's like, "pft, you guys, you think so small. You're focused about what the master can get you with his power... but I want the power 😏". And then you'd cut to him on his way up a big fancy marble staircase and you'd see him puffing himself up, excited, maybe even telling the narrator about the amazing situation he's in, but how since he's totally the favorite he's going to do what his peers are either too humble or doltish to consider: ask to learn the magic itself. And it's building tension and he's just-just-just about to ask and then you hear "No." Or "You're not ready. The magic isn't for you." Gives you this great set-up, like a Sorcerer's Apprentice thing. You're already in this kid's corner. How come he doesn't get the magic? Why would anyone try to keep someone from self-actualizing?? Not very cool. Anyway this would be almost exactly the same energy as the trailer for that new Disney movie Wish.

#the vampire chronicles #tvc #I can't explain why I love to do this but I do #plays on the back of my eyelids when I drive. cars in front of me as well.

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pardi-real · 4 months

Text

Tarot of Destiny / Chapter 2 - Tarot Reading

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Hanamaru: "So, what's Maginaria like?

......Any famous local alcohol or something?"

Teddy: "Mr. Hanamaru! We're going there on business, don't forget."

Hanamaru: "I know what you mean, Teddy. I'm just asking."

Berrien: "I'm not sure about the local alcohol, but… as I mentioned earlier, this town thrives on fortune-telling. They value spirituality a lot... Anything disruptive to the ambiance is frowned upon. Particularly during the festival, they prefer more dignified attire and behavior."

Yuhan: "I see… Dignified behavior, huh.... Then, I guess Mr. Hanamaru can't come."

Hanamaru: "Wait, wait, wait, wait. If you leave me here, I'll cry for real, okay?"

Flure: "Speaking of which... What's dignified attire?"

Berrien: "Fufu... Don't worry. I mean the kind of 'proper outfits' that Flure always makes for us."

Lono: "I see... Then I guess I'll be fine in this tailcoat."

Flure: "What– no way! You can't wear your usual clothes for a festival. I'll design something suitable for the festival in the city of fortune-telling!"

Lono: "Oops… Looks like the fire in Flure's soul is burning again."

Haures: "I'm looking forward to your designs, Flure, but... don't push yourself."

Teddy: "Let me know If I can help!"

Flure: "Yes! Thank you very much. Fortune-telling… I wonder what design would fit~…"

Berrien: "Ah, yes, speaking of reference... Lady Elvira gave me these 'envelopes', it might help."

> " 'Envelopes'…?"

Berrien: "Yes. It is addressed to all of us, including the lord. I've checked mine, and if my assumption is correct, the contents might give us clues for the costumes."

Berrien handed out the envelopes one by one to the butlers.

Berrien: "Three left... one for you, my lord."

> "Thank you"

Berrien: "Yes ♪ And this one... 'To Mr. Talking Cat'... It's addressed to Muu, isn't it?"

Muu: "What! There's one for me, too? Ehehe… This might be the first time I've received a letter addressed to me!"

Berrien: "Fufu. The last one is for Haures."

Haures: "Thank you. Without further ado… let's see what's inside. Hmm... this is… Some sort of a 'card' is attached to a piece of paper... underneath it, there are sentences.

'This is the tarot card that represents you.' 'I hope this card will guide your actions… Hence, I hope it will be a guidepost for your life.'

This card... represents me? What does that mean? I know that what is pasted on the paper is probably a tarot card… and appears to be pasted upside down. Is there a meaning to this?

Hmm... I don't know much about fortune-telling…"

Teddy: "Me neither... I only know what my lucky color is today."

Yuhan: "I know a little about Feng Shui… but I'm an outsider to tarot."

Hanamaru: "I see... no tarot hobbyist among us, then. So, Fennesz. Over to you."

Fennesz: "Huh… M-me...?

Hanamaru: "Yeah, you know, the knowledgeable Fennesz. I thought maybe you knew something about tarot readings… My bad. Bit much to ask, wasn't it?"

Fennesz: ".............. Uhm… I can tell you a bit… The card Haures got... is 'Justice' in 'reverse'.

In tarot reading, there are different types of cards and the concept of upright and reversed positions. Even if you draw the same card of 'Justice'... the meaning of the card will change depending on its position.

For example... the meaning of 'the card of Justice in reverse position' is 'to judge others harshly' or 'violence'... also 'excessive harshness' or something like that…"

Hanamaru: ".......Wow. How do you even know all that stuff...?"

Fennesz: "D-don't set me up and act surprised now… I just happened to have read about it in a book and remembered it…"

Hanamaru: "Hehe, my bad, my bad. Just honestly impressed."

Haures: "But still... It didn't seem to have good meanings. So, the reversed Justice card represents me…? Err… but I don't understand why."

Fennesz: "Uhm… but tarot cards have multiple interpretations... I don't think what I just said defines you, Haures…"

Haures: "Phew… Thanks, Fennesz."

Fennesz: "No, really... There's more to you, Haures...."

Haures: "Anyway... tarot cards are sent to all of us. If we refer to the pictures on these tarot cards.... It could help design costumes, right, Mr. Berrien?"

Berrien: "Yes… that's the idea."

Flure: "I see… That's right… I keep coming up with new ideas. Alright everyone, if you don't mind... Let me know your cards later!"

Hanamaru: "Yeah, got it. By the way… I wonder which card is in my envelope~ let's see. ……… Ergh. The heck is this… 'DEATH'... It says 'death'. It's obviously an unlucky card."

Teddy: "Hmm~... It is true that it has an unlucky vibe, but... this card is 'reversed', isn't it? Maybe it doesn't mean what it looks like…"

Fennesz: "Yes, Teddy is right, Mr. Hanamaru. Death in the reverse position means 'rebirth' or 'change'... a reversal of fortune.

You will be able to get out of the pain of not being able to move forward and move on.... I think that's what it means.

On the other hand, when it is in the upright position, it can mean the end of something, or farewell… and there are also many other meanings…"

Hanamaru: "Hmm~ I see. Well, if anything, I'm glad it's not upright."

Muu: "Fufu, regardless.... It's the same card, but the position changes the meaning... Tarot reading is so interesting, my lord!"

> "Yes, indeed"

Fennesz: "By the way... Which card was in your envelope, my lord?"

Fennesz asked me, and when I opened the envelope addressed to me... there was… the same card I had seen earlier....

> "It's Death in the upright position...."

Fennesz: "What…"

note: at least in English-speaking tarot, reversed Justice card means "dishonesty", "denial", "be careful with your emotions", and "injustice/unfairness/bias".

Reversed Death card means "fear of change", "refusing rebirth", "inability to let go/move on", "decay". While Death in upright position would mean "rebirth", "new beginnings", "transformation".

Well, I can find what Fennesz said in several Japanese websites though.

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#Tarot of Destiny #Aknk

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finnpeach · 5 months

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Dude kneel was my favorite fic on the face of the earth. If you don’t want anything to do with it it totally respect that but I hope someday you’ll rewrite or repost it. I read it so much I nearly had it memorized

Hey do you wanna get married or something? Because this is the best compliment ever and I never stopped thinking about it. Sorry, I know you sent me this months ago but I finally got the motivation to dig through my docs and hit copy and paste. FIND KNEEL BELOW! JUST FOR YOU!

Kneel

Please enjoy my fleabag-inspired Vashwood AU, where Wolfwood is a disillusioned priest with the kink and Vash is a secret angel. Something about having a cold tears down his defences that he’s not just a normal human, and Wolfwood starts to catch on.

The church is remarkably cold today, Wolfwood thinks, as he walks towards the pulpit. The air has a chilly bite to it and sends a shiver down his spine. He will have to ask Milly to distribute blankets to the parishioners for the next time, lest they start getting complaints.

Fifty pairs of eyes follow him from the pews, holding their stare as the entrance song rings across the stone walls. Nobody is excited to see him delivering the mass today.

“Father Wolfwood? He’s all right, a bit rough around the edges. He seems dissuaded by the spirit these days. Maybe he needs to go on a religious sabbatical.”

It is true that he has been a bit, well, bored, lately. He delivers the same Mass every Sunday. Receives the same sort of confessionals every day. Baptises the same type of wriggling babies. Attends the same standard of funerals. He has completely lost his motivation, his provocation, for the spirit. Maybe he is in the wrong line of work.

His black robe sweeps around his ankles. Were it not for the organ and the singing, he would hear it, swish swish swishing beneath him like its own prayer.

The entrance song comes to a close as he places his bible on the pulpit. He prefers his own, rather than the church’s large scripture. He can make notes this way and scribble drawings of a burning bush, or a ridiculously large boat with two of every animal.

With careless fingers, he opens the bible and clears his throat. His earthy brown eyes lazily scan the crowd, the forthcoming speech stirring in his mind like old bones coming to life.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” Wolfwood’s voice echoes throughout the church. He opens his palms towards the ceiling, as he always does.

“Amen,” the church replies.

Wolfwood delivers the greeting speech with practised boredom. He wishes something would happen. Please God, if you are even out there, save me from this mundanity.

His tongue forms the final words. “The Lord be with you.”

“And also with you,” comes the echo of the crowd.

“Please be seated.” Wolfwood nearly yawns. He closes his eyes, feigning spiritual enlightenment.

“And also with you.” One singular voice breaks the silence within the church.

Wolfwood’s eyes shoot open. He hadn’t expected his joke of a prayer, to be saved from this mundanity, to be answered so soon. Forty nine other pairs of eyes turn to see who has just spoken up.

He pinpoints him immediately. Spikey blonde hair. Undercut. His cheeks are pink with embarrassment. His nose, too. Tall, red coat. Glasses. Sheepishly grinning and sitting down to escape everyone’s gaze.

Also an idiot, apparently.

Wolfwood has never seen him here before. A surprised smile twitches at the corner of his lips, taken aback, the sluggish boredom replaced with renewed vigour.

He continues with the rest of the sermon, his heart suddenly beating in tandem with the rhythm of his words. Something about this blonde man’s eyes watching him (they’re blue, even from behind the pulpit, Wolfwood can see that they shine like sapphires) lights a fire in him. He has not felt like this since he first started studying scripture.

At some point, towards the end of Mass, he hears someone sniffling. Thick, wet sniffs that punctuate the silence around his speech. This was to be expected, though, considering how cold the church is. Wolfwood is not able to tell who it is until his eyes land, once again, on the blonde stranger.

He is the one sniffling. His nose is pink, like an English rose, and he keeps rubbing at it. He should just blow his nose and get it all over with.

Considering the sniffling, it was also only a matter of time until the sneezing commenced.

“...all the glory and honour is yours, forever and ever,” Wolfwood concludes.

“Amen,” the crowd replies.

“H’ihZTSHsHh’UE!”

The sneeze echoes off the stone walls of the church. Luckily, the organist begins playing, muffling the sound of the next sharp, wet sneeze.

“-- eh’TDhSHhh’ieW!”

Wolfwood searches the parishioners to see where the sneezes came from. The likeliest suspect is the same spikey, sniffly stranger from earlier, and Wolfwood is correct in his assumption.

Warm, liquid heat fills his veins like syrup. The man is bent forward in the pew with elbows on his knees. He tends to his dripping nose with a pathetic piece of tissue and looks absolutely miserable. Does he have a cold? Why is Wolfwood’s heart beating so fast, just from looking at him? It is as though he is looking at an angel, something holy, even though the man is just suffering through a cold. Maybe Wolfwood should–

“Father? Wolfwood?” Milly’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. The young woman is standing next to him with the box of wafers and wine in her hand.

“Are you okay? I’ve been trying to get your attention. We’re ready to start the communion rite.”

“Ah.” Wolfwood shakes his head, hoping it will rid his mind of the man’s pink nose. He needs to focus. “Right. Sorry. Let’s go.”

He takes the box of wafers from her hand, or the body of Christ. How can Christ’s body be in these pathetic little wafers? He should at least be in a 12 ounce wagyu steak, that would be more fitting. Wolfwood thinks. He does not suppose the church could write off wagyu beef for expenses, though.

He stands in front of the pulpit as people begin to line up to receive the body and blood of Christ. Milly pours the wine while Wolfwood hands them the wafers with practised apathy. The Body of Christ, Amen. The Body of Christ, Amen. The Body of Christ–

His indifference is dispelled when the man in the red coat suddenly appears before him.

Wolfwood swallows. His throat is tight against his priest’s collar. They are probably the same height, yet the blonde appears a little shorter because he’s tucking his chin down slightly. The position allows him to gaze up at Wolfwood with sparkling blue eyes.

“Father,” the man says courteously, his tongue grazing against his bottom lip. It leaves his lips wet, similar to his nose, which, now that Wolfwood is closer, is actually an irritated shade of red.

Wolfwood ignores the shiver that electrifies his body as he repeats the word like a chant in his head. Father. Father. Father.

“The Body of Christ,” Wolfwood says, his tongue thick in his mouth as he raises the wafer.

“Amen,” the other replies softly, never once breaking eye contact.

He expects the blonde man to hold out his hand and take the wafer, like everyone else has, but instead he drops open his mouth slightly and allows his pink tongue to slide out of his mouth, resting against his pillowy bottom lip.

He continues to gaze up at Wolfwood expectantly.

Gritting his teeth, the priest places the wafer on the tip of the believer’s tongue. He feels like he is buzzing with electricity. The man lifts his tongue, slightly, so slightly, so that it touches the tip of Wolfwood’s finger as he places the wafer.

Shocked, Wolfwood draws his hand back as quickly as one does when they touch a hot stove. The moisture settles into his skin like venom.

Warmth stirs in his abdomen. The man draws his tongue back into his mouth, letting the wafer disintegrate on his tongue. He gives Wolfwood a small smile and a wink.

Wolfwood cannot seem to break eye contact with the stranger as he exits the line and the next parishioner steps forward. He has to remind himself to look away, to focus on the person in front of him.

He flexes his hand that had been touched by the man’s tongue and ignores the heat bubbling inside him. The priest readies the next wafer.

“The Body of Christ.”

“Amen,” the woman replies and holds out her hand.

***

After the service, Wolfwood walks behind the church to smoke. It is a quiet spot and overlooks the cemetery, and few parishioners tend to bother him back here.

That is, until today.

He lights the cigarette between his lips and leans his head back against the freezing stone wall. He lets his eyes slip shut as he battles with his own detachment for this place. At least it is quiet and peaceful out here–

“Hi.”

Wolfwood jolts at the sound, his heart ricocheting around his chest like a bullet. To his right is the blonde parishioner with the pink nose, the same from earlier. How did he know about his hiding spot?!

He bites his cigarette and glares at him as he tries to slow the hammering in his chest.

“Fucking hell, you almost gave me a heart attack! Do you just sneak up on everyone like that?!”

“Oh, sorry.” The stranger looks genuinely surprised and apologetic, and maybe a little shocked to hear a priest swearing. He gives Wolfwood a gentle smile, the kind that would make anyone trust him immediately. Wolfwood feels himself grow even more on edge.

“I thought you heard me coming. I just wanted to say that your service was really great.”

Wolfwood huffs a laugh. “Don’t usually get compliments like that these days. Thanks.”

The man cocks his head to the side and lifts an eyebrow. He looks a bit like a puppy tilting its head.

“Why not?”

“Mmm,” Wolfwoof hums. “It’s not important.” He waves his hand at him, as if to shake away the topic. “Anyway, is this your first time here, blondie?”

The man does not seem bothered by the nickname. In fact, it makes his smile grow.

“Yes, I just moved here. I volunteered a lot at my previous church and wanted to do the same here. I thought I’d come find you to ask about any help you may need.”

Wolfwood snorts. “Really? We usually only get delinquent kids that need community service time comin’ around here to help out.” He takes a long drag of his cigarette and angles the smoke away from the man.

“You got a name?”

“Vash.”

Vash. “Wolfwood. Nice to meet ya.” Wolfwood puts his cigarette between his lips and offers his hand, which Vash kindly refuses, holding his hands up to his chest with his palms facing the priest.

“Ahh, you probably don’t want to shake hands with me. I have a bit of a cold,” he says, grinning abashedly. “Sorry if my sneezing messed up your sermon today. I didn’t want to get anyone else sick, so I sat in the back.”

Yeah, so Vash could sneeze all over everyone in front of him? He really is a bit of a moron. But Wolfwood is lucky he was not sitting up front, sneezing as he was, otherwise he would have had a boner for the whole church to see.

“Hm. Are you an angel, or somethin’? Like actually.” Wolfwood tucks his chin forward and looks at him from over the rim of his glasses. This man is far too nice for his own good.

“What do you mean?” Vash has not stopped smiling since they started talking, and his smile has only stretched, as if he is surprised by being called an angel. The question clearly makes him nervous even though Wolfwood was just teasing.

“I mean – you’re sick as hell, and came to Mass just so you could ask about volunteering, and you’re at least considerate about being sick. What’s the catch? You hiding something?”

“N-no! I just like helping my community, thahh…”

Wolfwoof watches as Vash’s hands steeple over his nose, anticipating the inevitable. Fuck, stop staring.

But he cannot. Vash’s pretty blue eyes pinch shut and his golden eyelashes catch in the sun like a flame. His lips draw back over his teeth to reveal sharp canines as his pale hands rise up to tent his nose.

“H’ahDZSh’hue!-- huh.. h’uhDThSCH’ue!” He stays bent forward for a millisecond, eyes shut, as if expecting another. When a third does not come, he rights himself and looks at Wolfwood again with a sharp sniffle.

The priest watches as one of Vash’s pink, damp nostrils closes with the sniff but the other does not. Ah, so he’s congested.

Wolfwood cannot pinpoint it, but the atmosphere seems brighter, lighter, now. He could have sworn he saw a little golden halo of light flash around Vash’s head when he sneezed, but maybe the sun is just playing tricks on him.

Once again, the priest’s collar is tight around his throat as he swallows. He is suddenly grateful for the extra fabric in his robe and he just hopes that it is covering the emerging hard on.

“God bless you.”

“Snff!.. Thangks.” Vash smiles brightly again, like the blessing has just renewed him. Maybe he is just a religious weirdo. “Might be a while udntil I can volunteer, though.” He laughs a little and Wolfwood swears he hears wind chimes rustle on a nearby tree. Which is odd, because there is not a single breeze in the air.

“No kidding.” Wolfwood kicks his foot up against the wall of the church. “We don’t have anything going on yet, but we’ll do a winter clothing drive soon. Milly’s setting it up, though, so I’d talk to her.”

“A winter clothing drive… Perfect, I’ll go talk to her about it then. I also wondered—“ Vash steps closer so that they are only a foot apart. Wolfwood’s skin shivers as he comes closer, as if someone has just placed a cold hand on his back. The blonde lowers his voice even though they are alone.

“— is there someone I could talk to? I’ve been… I suppose, going through a difficult time, but—“

Wolfwood holds up his hand to stop him. “We offer confessionals and counselling sessions at specified times, and I’m on break right now.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry—“ His smile breaks for the first time. Did a cloud just cover the sun?

“But—” Wolfwood keeps his hand up but places his fingers down so only his index remains up. “You are welcome by my office at any time. Or in my hiding spot. If you bring a few beers, we can have a proper chat.”

Vash grins again, and suddenly the cloud passes. Light floods around them like a shining beacon. Wolfwood thinks it must be a coincidence.

“That would be great.”

“No wine coolers. I don’t drink that sissy shit.” Wolfwood puts his cigarette out on the stone wall of the church and pinches the butt between his fingers. Milly has told him off for cursing around the parishioners before, apparently it’s not very “professional”.

“Oh, so you’re a cool, swear-y priest, are you?” Vash’s voice is teasing, light, and airy. Wolfwood could have this back and forth for hours.

“All the best are.” Wolfwood cannot help but grin. Finally, some appreciation around here.

“Thank you, Father. I’ll come by sometime.” Vash gives him a small wave goodbye and walks away.

The last thing Wolfwood sees is the end of his red coat gliding around the corner. Why does he feel so good right now, after just a short conversation with Vash? Something inside him feels light again, as if he could walk on air and watch the world below.

Father, Father, Father.

***

Vash rounded the corner as calmly as he possibly could, until he was out of sight from Wolfwood. Then he broke out into a sprint and ran far and fast, away from the church and away from anyone who might have seen his drop in disguise. He probably looked quite insane, running in jeans and combat boots and a red coat, and many humans stopped to give him a strange look.

His legs carried him as far as a secluded park. His cold, this silly thing that humans caught and were weakened by, made it difficult for him to catch his breath,

That had been close. Too close, Nai would say, you’re going to compromise your true nature if you keep it up.

And to that, Vash would say, It’s okay! Why does it matter if they find out that we’re angels? Aren’t we supposed to be helping them, anyway? Maybe knowing who we are will help them understand!

Nai would roll his eyes, and he would either leave it at that, or lecture him on how helpless humans were, how exposing their true divinity would ruin the humans, how their entire world could be undone if he so much as stuck a wing out of line.

Deep down, Vash knew his brother was a little bit right, but he was a little bit wrong, too. Wolfwood understood, and he was not helpless.

He had been assigned to this particular priest by Nai. Another priest who’s lost his way, Vash. Just go down there and perform a few miracles and he’ll be back on track.

Most priests were not particularly beautiful, or fun to be around. They were often old, or too serious. But Wolfwood was a different story entirely. He was tall, and very handsome. He had had an interesting childhood, based on the report Nai had given him, and had lived in an orphanage for most of his life. According to his profile, he tends to be blasphemous, unruly, prideful, lazy, and even lustful. Vash, as his assigned angel, would have to set him on the path towards holy righteousness again.

It seemed he had become disillusioned with religion in the previous years, and needed divine intervention to get back on track. Easy enough. Vash would swoop in there, perform a few miracles, and then leave. It should be simple.

Except, it was not. Vash’s heart had hammered in his chest like a rabbit beneath a hawk’s shadow when he first laid eyes on Wolfwood. The priest’s robe was tight against his chest, the black and white collar wrapped around his throat, and a small silver cross hanging by a silver chain around his neck.

Despite his immediate attraction for the priest, the visit had still gone (somewhat) according to plan. Wolfwood sensed Vash’s presence and felt the spirit during his service, and as such, the Mass improved. At the end, he had heard snippets of other parishioners gossiping about how much better the service had been, how much more enigmatic Wolfwood had been.

The only hiccup was this cold. He had caught it in the days leading up to his visit with Wolfwood. It is unusual for angels to catch colds, but certainly not unheard of. Being on Earth, surrounded by unholiness and sin, made him more susceptible to illnesses. When Vash woke up the morning of his visit with an ache in his throat and a stuffiness in his sinuses, he was not the least bit surprised.

Now that he’s in the park, he can stretch out a bit. He wanders deeper into the woods until he arrives at a clearing. The hills extend for miles, with trees dotting the perimeter. No one will see, and if they do, he can just fly away.

Vash removes his coat and allows his wings to stretch out, a pleasurable shiver running down his spine as they extend from between his shoulder blades. Ah, much better.

He lays down in the grass and stares up at the sky. Wolfwood knew he was hiding something. He had even called him an angel.

The opportunity to think further about it is interrupted by the same spark in his sinuses as earlier. His nose scrunches in retaliation, lips drawing back over his teeth to reveal sharp canines, and he twists to the side.

“H’ddYZSHhue! ‘ihHTSCHhhyiewhh!” The contagious mist catches in the sunlight, a clear testament to how wet the sneezes were. He sniffles pathetically and rubs harshly at his nose with the heel of his hand.

That had been another thing Vash had noticed about Wolfwood’s lust. He liked this particular bodily sensation, and had paid special attention when Vash did it in the church. How funny, that he likes something so delicate and simple. Vash thinks.

The angel rolls back on his spine and sighs. He feels like he knows so much, yet so little at the same time.

***

Four days later, and the mundanity of his line of work has returned. Vash has not been seen in the church since the last Mass, and Wolfwood has to admit that he misses his presence.

This particular priest hates confessionals most of all. He is not interested in hearing about people’s sins, nor does he particularly care to comfort them, but it is sometimes interesting to hear the latest bit of church gossip. For example, when someone with a recognisable voice comes in and confesses they stole something from their neighbour, who also happens to be a church member, and now Wolfwood knows about the old lady thievery drama between Mrs. Jones and Mrs. Downy. Or, when a certain (Mrs. Downy, of course) hardly anonymous churchgoer confesses that she slept with a married man (Mr. Jones), and the wife (Mrs. Jones) doesn’t know. Those days are the most interesting.

He has a feeling, though, that today will be a slow day, full of people who actually want to confess their boring sins and feel better about themselves when he tells them they’re forgiven.

Beside him, the curtain swishes on the other confessional box as someone steps through it.

It begins. Wolfwood yawns. The confessional sits down.

Wolfwood continues slouching, bored. He tugs on his priest’s collar and hopes this will be done quickly. It only takes the sound of a familiar voice to suddenly make him sit upright and at attention.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Blondie.

“It has been… um…” Vash trails off, and Wolfwood swears he can see him counting on his fingers through the screened partition. Seriously?

“It has been, um… Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever confessed, actually. So I guess that’s the first sin. But here are my sins.” He sniffles a couple times. Is something bothering his nose? Is he still sick?

Wolfwood’s throat is tight. What could this goody two shoes possibly have to confess about? Did he hug someone too hard and give them a bad back? Did he give some crying child an ice cream, and then that kid turned out to be diabetic?

“I’ve fallen in love. And it’s a bit unconventional.”

Wolfwood rolls his eyes. He gets about a hundred “I’m gay” confessionals every week. And he didn’t have to guess that Vash was, either.

This is a waste of a confessional. Though, maybe he’ll get some more intel on who Vash is in love with. Wolfwood was really hoping that he was single. Not that he should, though, since his like of work forbids it.

“Well, the Lord loves all his children, regardless of their preferences. Despite what you may have heard.” He leans his head against the wooden wall, aching for a cigarette. He really does not care to reassure people about their sexuality. A hole is a hole. What is even more annoying is the combination of these confessionals and finding out his new love interest is already in love with another.

Vash gives a small chuckle. “No, no, it’s not that. It’s unconventional because of his… line of work, I suppose.”

Wolfwood pauses. Line of work. “Could you elaborate?”

Vash is quiet for a moment. The silence hangs delicately in the air.

“He’s a priest.”

Something inside Wolfwood shatters like glass.

Wolfwoof says nothing for an instant. He hears Vash’s congested, snuffly breathing, which has started getting louder. Is he nervous?

“I’m sorry. That was stupid. Forget I said anything.”

Wolfwood stares at the floor ahead of him.

“Wolfwood? Are you there? Please say something.” His voice cracks, desperate.

Wolfwood closes his eyes and leans his head back. Some sort of feeling takes over him again, filling him with the same magnetic spirituality as it did in Mass when Vash had his eyes on him. He relinquishes himself.

“Kneel,” he says, softly. He should not be doing this.

“What?”

“Kneel.” He should not be doing this.

Wolfwood waits to hear Vash sink down to the floor before he rises from his seat. He silently slips out of his own side, then stands outside of Vash’s curtain for a beat. His heart hammers in his chest like a drum. Do not open the curtain. Do not open the curtain.

He tugs back the curtain and they meet each other’s gaze. Vash is kneeled on the floor, hands pathetically folded in his lap, eyes wet. His nose is still pink, a sure sign he has not shaken his cold yet. His eyes, fuck, his big blue eyes, look up at him so softly.

Vash staring up at him like this, like he is an answered prayer, makes him feel alive. Perhaps what he is about to do is acceptable in God’s eyes, if Vash is looking at him so religiously.

Wolfwood takes a knee and allows his hand to glide over Vash’s jaw, his thumb resting against the base of his ear. His skin is warm. Vash breathes through his mouth, lips slightly parted. His eyes search Wolfwood’s, darting from his lips, to his eyes, to his hand resting against his face. He looks angelic.

Vash is the first to break the spell, when he sees Wolfwood struggling too. He leans forward and kisses Wolfwood, careful at first, light. Much too cautious for Wolfwood’s taste. A match strikes within the priest at the taste of his lips and he deepens the pressure in turn.

He pulls Vash to his feet as their lips strike against each other. Pushing and pulling. It is all Wolfwood, at first, on the offence, with Vash pathetically accepting. At the feel of Wolfwood’s hand on his hip, his fingers digging into his skin, he presses forward, parrying each of Wolfwood’s kisses with his own.

They stop suddenly when Vash presses his hand to Wolfwood’s chest.

“Wait,” he says. He is breathing hard. “I still have a cold.”

“Like I give a fucking shit about that. Come here.”

Wolfwood is not going to stop now. He steps into the confessional box and closes the curtain behind them, then wraps his hands around the back of Vash’s thighs to pick him up. Vash yelps a bit in surprise but is quickly placated when he finds himself on Wolfwood’s lap, seated in the confessional booth.

“This… Kissing a priest, in a church. Won’t he get mad?” Vash asks between kisses. His hand is warm against Wolfwood’s neck, the other is knotted in his black hair.

“Who?” Shut up and just keep kissing me, he thinks. Vash’s lips taste like golden honey, and each time they drift away, Wolfwood is left wanting more.

“God.”

Wolfwood snickers. “What’re you, his secretary?”

Something about that causes Vash to pause, and he takes a second to come up with something clever to get Wolfwood off his trail.

“Aren’t you, technically?”

“Touché.” He presses a soft kiss to Vash’s lips. “If you don’t tell on me, I won’t tell on you. It’ll be our little secret.”

Wolfwood is growing harder with Vash in his lap, and the way he keeps pulling away to sniffle and rub at his nose is not helping. He is too far gone to care anymore. Each time he turns his head away, Wolfwood gives him a moment to recover before gripping his fingers in Vash’s blonde hair and tugging him back. He is impatient, restless. It is a combination of breaking his vows as a priest in the holiest place he could possibly break them, and the sensation of Vash sitting atop his cock.

His lips find Wolfwood’s neck and begin making deep, dark bruises above the collar. A gentle moan unwillingly escapes him at the sensation. He does not think it can get much better until Vash’s breath starts to hitch. His breath staggers against Wolfwood’s lips, and he almost mistakes it for pleasure, until Vash is pitching forward against Wolfwood’s shoulder, sneezing right against the collar of his robe.

“Hih’DHhSHHh’YUE!” The mist coats half of Wolfwood’s throat. He grits his teeth to avoid moaning.

“Suhh.. Sorry…” Vash breaths, then– “--eh’IDTSHhhyIEW!” His pink, twitching nose presses against the crook of Wolfwood’s neck again, and Wolfwood swears he saw a halo around his head again.

“What was that?”

“What?” Vash asks, leaning back to wipe at his nose with the side of his index finger.

“That thing you just did. The light. What was it? Where’d it go?”

Vash looks stunned. “I… I don’t–”

The sound of footsteps echoing against the tiled floor of the church causes them both to freeze. Wolfwood clamps his palm over Vash’s mouth, his other hand steadying the other’s lower back.

The other curtain draws back and someone steps in and sits down. Fuck.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

Wolfwood stays silent, lost for words, until Vash pokes him in the ribs.

“Pl-please continue.” Wolfwood’s throat is as dry as sandpaper. Vash watches him like a hawk.

“It has been two years since my last confession. Since then I have lied, cheated on my wife, and…”

Wolfwood feels Vash’s lips part against his palm and his breath hitches. Oh, fuck no. He glares up at Vash and sees his nose twitching against the side of his fingers.

‘Don’t you dare.’ Wolfwood mouths, baring his teeth at him.

Vash shakes his head and pinches his eyes shut. His hands grab onto Wolfwood’s shoulders.

“... I have used drugs, and alcohol, and been blasphemous…”

Jesus, this guy needs to wrap it up. Wolfwood can only focus on Vash right now, the way he feels against his cock, how he so desperately needs to sneeze.

The man keeps droning on and Wolfwood feels like he is in hell. He presses his hand tighter around Vash’s mouth. If this guy catches them, he is definitely going to lose his job.

“H’ih…”

‘Blondie!’ Wolfwood mouths, but it is useless. He removes his hand from Vash’s mouth and wraps it around the back of Vash’s head, tugging him forward just as Vash’s chest expands one last time.

“Heh’idZSHhh’yue!” Wolfwood presses Vash’s face against the crook of his neck, but not quickly enough to muffle the first sneeze. They echo around the confession box and the church.

“ih-CHSHhh’ue! ihGKTSHhhIEW!” Each sneeze bursts a mist of successive spray against Wolfwood’s neck. This, he thinks, must be some sort of baptism.

Once Vash has finally stopped sneezing, he rests his forehead against Wolfwood’s shoulder and sniffles thickly, making little congested sounds that do not help their situation.

“Uh… Bless you, Father Wolfwood,” the man says, pausing his confession. Wolfwood is about to open his mouth, deliver the prayer of Absolution and get him out of here, when Vash decides to speak up instead.

“Thank you!” Vash chirps, and his stupid voice is so remarkably different from Wolfwood’s that the man goes silent. If Wolfwood could see the man, he’d imagine that his jaw would be hanging open.

Wolfwood will beat Vash’s ass later, most certainly. For now, he just wraps his hand around Vash’s jaw to shut him up before turning back to the confessionary.

“Apologies, I caught a cold and my voice is going. God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son…”

He finishes the prayer of Absolution and sends the man on his way. When he’s gone, Wolfwood all but kicks Vash out of the confessional booth.

“‘Thank you’?!”

“He blessed me!” Vash rubs his ass as he stands up. Ouch, the church tiles are painful to land on.

“No, he blessed me, you dumbass. You’re lucky he’s only marginally dumber than you so he won’t tell the whole church I was fucking the blonde in the confessional box!”

“I’m sorry, I had to sneeze,” Vash whines as he dusts off his jeans. He stares at Wolfwood with those big, dumb, blue puppy eyes again, and it makes Wolfwood groan and pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I’m going to hell. Get out of my church.” He is too mad to remember the golden ring of light around Vash’s head when he sneezed. He just wants Vash out of here so he can forget this ever happened.

“I’ll be in Mass tomorrow.”

“Oh, no, you are never allowed in here again.” Wolfwood shakes his head at him and points towards the door.

“Why not?”

“Because–” I’ll fall in love with you, I’ll break my faith, I’ll do worse things to you than just kiss you in a confessional booth. “Because. Just go.”

Vash gives him a parting look, as if he has something he wants to say, but he says nothing. He just nods and sulks out of the church.

Unfortunately everything seems a bit dimmer once he is gone. Wolfwood sighs and rubs the back of his neck as he walks toward his office, feeling listless again. Somehow, though, he knows deep in his heart that Vash will come back, and they will both make the same mistake all over again.

#my writing #hope that was the right tag for it #ok time to go rewatch fleabag

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