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blondephenobarbitol · 4 months

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I'm thinking about the implications again.

The numbers that the hive mind performs aren't random. Both the lyrics and the choreography will often boil down to to one purpose: to cause pain. (Pokey is ruthless.)

Sometimes it's physical, and that's easy to spot. The cops spend half of their song just kicking and pushing people to the ground. Join Us And Die literally ends with Ted getting beat up.

And when the choreography doesn't allow for it, the lyrics are specifically trying to elicit an emotional response. The hive uses Alice to torment Bill. He's watching someone he loves die in front of him. It does the same for Charlotte.

Okay, the hive gets a kick out watching people suffer. That's not new information. But the implications...

Look at Inevitable. It's a pretty significant shift from the rest of the numbers. Whereas those seem tailored for pain and fear, Inevitable seems to be comforting? Just look.

Paul walks out, and the first thing he does is hug Emma. Which doesn't seem significant at first, but think: Did Bill get that same courtesy?

Alice's first line is meant to taunt Bill. Paul's is almost consolatory; " Emma / I'm sorry / you lost." I won't dissect this completely, the theory is that this first line is genuine. Paul is actually sorry that their plan failed.

And when you take a look at the choreography, it becomes clear that it's a lot kinder than the other songs.

We see Paul waltzing with Emma and kissing her hands. And even though he's not letting her get away, he's not trying to hurt her. He's not even trying to intimidate her. He's shown more than once bending down--getting on her level, like you would to a child--as opposed to towering over her.

The lyrics aren't messing with her either. Whereas Sam is manipulative and Alice is spiteful, Paul's lyrics are reassuring.

"I'm still the man you trust," is a lot different than "Don't you twust me?" when you get right down to it. It carries with it a connotation of 'I'm okay, and you will be too.'

"What if I told you I made it?" actively contradicts the 'I killed your loved one' narrative that Alice used with Bill.

It's not like Emma is buying any of it. She's still terrified. Paul doesn't need to hurt her or taunt her in order to scare her, just singing was enough. But it's clear that he's not trying to.

The hive mind gets a kick out of watching people suffer. Emma is the leading lady. You'd think that she's the one who should have the most brutal song. But she just doesn't. It seems like her song is trying to be the kindest.

We know it's implied that once they get infected, people are still conscious inside their musical doppelgängers (source: the line "your own body is your front row seat" as well as Sam breaking through its control long enough to say "Charlotte" before falling back under).

I think Paul was conscious during Inevitable. I think he knew that they weren't escaping this. I think he knew he was eventually going to kill Emma, and there was nothing he could do about it. But I think he didn't want her to suffer.

Instead, I think he resolved to give her as kind a death as he could. He would lie. He'd tell her he was happy and that she was safe. He'd be as gentle as the hive mind allowed. She was running out of time, so he'd love her with every second they had left.

(but that's just a theory...a musical theory... and cut)

#tgwdlm #the guy who didn't like musicals #emma perkins #paul matthews #starkid #team starkid #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #lords in black #pokotho #pokey #npmd #black friday #theory #scene analysis #analysis #lauren lopez #jon matteson #jeff blim

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 2 months

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Dydd Gŵyl Dewi hapus i bawb!

That's right! It's WALES' BIRTHDAY*!!! Yaaaaayyyy today you are all Welsh. Enjoy your 24 hours of perfect harmonisation ability and utter disinterest in any celebrities. Watch out for the dragons.

*It is not Wales' birthday

I have decided to revive an old favourite of this blog to mark the occasion - prepare for a classic Pick The Fake Welsh Word Poll! And to super charge the Welshness today we are assessing the glory that is the daffodil - the national flower of Wales (lol not really, our national flower is the leek. And that's why queen Lizzie Two had to get coronated with a leek on her dress because we refused to let them use the daffodil even when the palace designer begged. Iconic.)

(But the daffodil is still a symbol of Wales, so it counts here.)

So! Let's go! Etymology at the end.

Etymology Notes

Croeso'r Gwanwyn - they flower in March! Hence the St David's Day link. One of the first flowers to bloom in spring.

Clych babi - the trumpet bit looks like a bell, I suppose, and has similar (make a noise' connotations. Why a baby? Dunno. Maybe a spring link again.

Gwayw brenin - the leaves are definitely spear-like, and the petals look a bit like a crown

Pibell felen - 'pibell' usually means a pipe in the sense of music, so another trumpet reference. Except we didn't have trumpets in Wales, so pipe it is

Gylfinog - the trumpet again. The word is often used for animals (morfil gylfinog is beaked whale, for example). Cognate with Cornish gelvinek, Irish gulba, etc.

Cenhinen Pedr - Peter is probably the saint. The leek is otherwise a Welsh emblem

Lily pengam - the angle of the flower head, maybe, makes it 'wry-headed'? And then the lily link, which turns up a few times

Melyn Clamai - yellow is obvious. Clamai is a corruption of Calan Mai - May Eve. Another reference to the time of year

Lili Clamai - lily again, Calan Mai again.

Dwndili - a corruption of the English word 'daffodil', and the lili again

Daffidondili - further corruption

Daffitwndili - corruption but with hypercorrection of the d to a t! Can you tell these ones are dialectic?

~~~

Enjoy!

#wales!#closed for cleaning on mondays #st davids day

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ghostdrinkssoup · 1 year

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something I find really interesting about hannibal’s character is how he uses people’s expectations and ingrained assumptions to hide himself. no one suspects he’s a serial killer because he doesn’t present as one. he’s elegant and refined and isn’t cruel to animals. he’s highly sophisticated, a polyglot and has a deep admiration for beauty and life. he appreciates saving lives just as much as he appreciates ending them. in fact, this particular aspect of his character is partly why it takes will the entirety of s1 to accept hannibal’s true nature. will saw hannibal save abigail and accompany her to the hospital in apéritif and he also saw hannibal save a man’s life by performing emergency surgery and taking over the operation at the end of sorbet.

this moment in particular is interesting because of how it’s framed to make hannibal look almost godly from will’s point of view:

1) hannibal is positioned immediately higher than will due to being in the ambulance, meaning will is looking up at hannibal, while hannibal is looking down on him

2) hannibal is standing under a bright light as he works to save this guy’s life, while will is standing in almost complete darkness

3) the usual orchestral, classical music is playing in the background, emphasising the apparent “holiness” of the act and framing hannibal as some sort of saviour

the impact of this scene is even more potent when considering the context of the rest of the episode, since will has already stated that the ripper is not the type to save people or enact mercy on anyone. his style of murders doesn’t suggest this characteristic whatsoever, and although will’s assessment is correct, hannibal’s personality and overall demeanour doesn’t match what we’d imagine a person like that might look like. I think will is confronted by this as well, because even if hannibal’s surgical skill means he matches the ripper’s profile (which makes him a valid suspect) his actions contradict will’s image of the ripper, while simultaneously affirming it:

it’s difficult to reconcile these facets of hannibal’s character. it’s inherently contradictory and defies our cultural expectations. nonetheless, hannibal’s inclination to save people is sometimes more insidious than his murders. he doesn’t save people out of altruism, he does it because he thinks he’s superior and enjoys deciding outcomes. he doesn’t view himself as insane, he views himself as god. this is most aptly explored in takiawase, through the acupuncturist/beekeeper killer. here we see a murderer who confesses that she killed a man to quiet his mind, and tells jack that it’s beautiful that she managed to protect him and her other patients. this is one side of hannibal’s character, the one who’s a doctor and therapist and sees death as a cure from disease, even if the ‘disease’ itself is literally just discourtesy. it’s ultimately an act of power.

and yet in this same episode he flips a coin and saves bella on a whim. this of course is framed to others as an act of mercy, however the reality is he took bella’s power away in an act disguised as kindness. once again, he hides in plain sight. this is the other side of his character, and it’s just as deadly.

it’s still about power.

but we don’t associate acts of mercy with monstrosity. when hannibal comforts abigail in trou normand we question whether he’s as bad as we think, because what negative connotations are tied to paternal tenderness? we miss that hannibal is fostering dependency, that he literally looks dead in the eyes as he holds her, and that he blatantly just told us that he’s using abigail to manipulate will:

hannibal often does this actually. he either directly says what he’s doing or suggests that he’s the culprit (often through cannibal puns, as we know) but no one ever interprets him correctly because doing so would contradict the image he’s carefully constructed for himself. it would cause too much dissonance.

and what’s fascinating is that on a subtextual level this is largely what the show is about. the story is an exploration of societal roles and the struggle to fit into stiff categorisation and expectations. will parallels hannibal in this regard because he’s desperately trying to repress his identity by taking on certain roles. and the audience is lured by this persona the same way the characters are lured by hannibal because will defies our understanding of certain tropes. on a genre level, will assumes the detective archetype, meaning we are primed to think he’s inherently good. when we see him say he wants to save people we believe him, even though he often only does so to prove to himself that he’s a good person. will is indeed righteous, a characteristic we often view positively, however he’s violent, wrathful and actively enjoys murder due to how powerful it makes him feel. he’s not dissimilar to hannibal, we just don’t see this straight away because doing so would disrupt our understanding of good and evil.

will hides the same way hannibal does, except will hides from us as well

#ghostie once again goes on a tangent #but it’s so !! I really love how the show fucks with everyone #and uses our expectations to do it #even on a narrative/genre level #the key to unveiling it is letting that conditioning and urge to categorise everything go #also wow I’m back to writing meta hello there #nbc hannibal #hannibal #will graham #hannigram #hannibal meta #ghost speaks

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soobnny · 6 months

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talk tomorrow — lee heeseung. best friends to lovers. drunken confessions. fluff. (1.1k words)

It takes a single message from Jay reading “Heeseung drunk. Please help” for you to leave the comfort of your bed in favor of picking up your best friend.

He’d told you the night prior that he’d be drinking out with his friends, even asked you to come with him. However, you were a prisoner to your 10-page essay due at midnight so you’d opted out of his invitation – despite his accompanying doe-eyes, pout, and whining. He had taken everything out of his books of “How To Get (Name) To Say Yes” for you to reconsider, but you’d kept a firm stand on wanting to pass your subject.

Though, at 2am, with your essay—not proofread— passed and sent into the void for you to never look at ever again, you had no choice but to get the boy before he makes stupid decisions that’d have him be subject to his friends’ teasing the next day. If Jay’s one text message hadn’t convinced you, Jake’s drunk phone call with Heeseung mumbling your name over and over again would’ve done the trick.

So, clad in pajamas you had every intent on sleeping in, you’re left walking a few minutes away from his destination until you could smell the familiar scent of hard liquor. It doesn’t take a minute of you announcing you’d arrived before Heeseung barges out of the club doors to stumble his way to you and take you in his arms, just like in the movies, back slouched and head draped on your shoulder.

Though, the movies never described how foul alcohol would smell like on a boy’s sweaty body. It made you freak out, along with the thought of the connotations of a drunken boy who could pull whoever he wanted. Had he met a pretty girl?

Had it been Jake, you wouldn’t have minded. You’d even go as far as saying you’d help him, but Heeseung is a different case. Different in that you’re madly in love with him, and you could only ever see Jake as a brother figure.

“(Name)? Is it actually you?” His words come out in a slur, but you don’t miss the tilt of sudden giddiness in the way that he speaks to you.

“He’s been whining about you all night.” Jay’s voice follows from right behind him, peeling the drunk boy away from you who instantly makes grabby hands and lunges right back when Jay lets go. You could hear Heeseung mumbling, “don’t tell her”, against your shoulder.

“Don’t tell me what?” You try to support Heeseung’s wait on you, looking from him to Jay who simply shrugs his shoulders in response. Jake is a compliant drunk at the back with his eyes curtained and hands behind his back so Jay doesn’t scold him.

“That I like you.” He murmurs, low rasp in his voice and arms tightening around you as if to prepare you for the words you had never expected to hear from the boy. You would’ve stumbled in your step had Heeseung not depended most of his weight on you.

Jake’s mouth drops.

“Oh my god. He actually said it.” You could hear Jake’s harsh whispers that Jay desperately tries to shut down, dragging his friend back into the building despite his attempts at trying to see the scene unfold before him.

The door closes, and it’s just you, Heeseung, and the faint music playing from the club.

“Do you actually mean that?” You ask more to yourself, sudden bomb dropped. Apparently, it does not take seconds to comprehend that the boy you’d been in love with since middle school bears the same feelings for you. So, you stand there looking like an idiot with Heeseung stuck to you like his life depends on it.

“Of course I do.” His head perks up, defensive almost, peeling away from you. “Have you not— have you not noticed the way I look at you? How I have all your favorite books memorized, how I know everything about you by heart? I like you so much, (Name). I like you so much that sometimes it feels like I can’t breathe because what is my heart for if not to love you?”

“Hee—”

“How could anyone not love you? You walk into a room, and everyone is captivated by you. Magic is everywhere with you, and I just want to be able to have even just a fraction of who you are. But I could never tell you that. I’m just… I’m just your best friend, right? How could I be anything more?”

His eyes are glossy, and fixated on your lips before he curses himself. “I’m sorry. Are you mad at me?”

“Hee, of course I’m not mad at you. But, can we talk about this tomorrow? I don’t want you to say things you don’t mean.”

“But I do mean everything, baby. And I’ll—” Hiccup. “I’ll say everything again tomorrow, anything you want for you to believe me.”

“Come on, let’s go home. We’ll talk more about this in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You’re gonna have a really bad headache tomorrow.”

“Hmm… I heard kisses are a good remedy.”

“Really, now?”

“Mhm.”

His hand dives after yours, walking with you to your apartment minutes away. Your heart flutters in the space between your intertwined fingers. He holds onto you like he knows nothing else. It only makes you smile more.

He’ll settle for handholding tonight.

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“Mmm, couldn’t stop thinking about you though. It’s always more fun with you.” Heeseung doesn’t even think of what he’s saying anymore, spewing unfiltered words he’d normally keep hidden until he was sure you felt the same. Maybe it’s because his mind is too busy reeling what it’d be like to be with you, and how your lips could possibly feel like on his.

“Hee.” You warn light-heartedly.

“Okay, tomorrow, tomorrow. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” He repeats like a mantra before sighing out. “Want time to hurry. Wanna know if you feel the same way.”

Heeseung looks lost in his own body when you arrive back into your apartment, but he still has everything memorized—where to take his shoes off, where to sit as you hand him a glass of water to drink, where his spare clothes are.

Your chest feels warm the whole time you help him wash his face. He simply sits there, compliant and behaved which is not how he’s like on a day to day basis, as you run your hands through his face, even after you dry him off with a towel. Heeseung is only a boy with a mind thinking if his everydays could look like this.

He falls asleep after 15 minutes, but his hand never leaves yours, and there’s a little note on your bedtime with lines you could barely recognize as Heeseung’s handwriting.

I meant everything. Talk tomorrow.

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lucifers-rubber-duck · 27 days

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hazbin crew with a reader that died in modern times and like somehow a song from modern times starts playing (idk fanfic magic 🤷‍♀️) but it's like cpr or wap or something and reader just knows every word to it. idk if you would consider this nsfw cuz i just consider it like kinda crackfic type energy but if you don't then just delete this lol

Characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Husker, Angel & Lucifer.

Warnings: None I guess.

A/N: I think it's funny, lmao, I cannot take any song with sexual lyrics seriously. Thanks for the ask anon.

𖤓Charlie

• Charlie may be thousands of years old, but she knows how to catch up with new times, slangs and trends.

• She's not very used with songs of the human realm tho, most songs that they have in Hell were made right there. But there are some occasions were a Succubus will record their own cover of a human song since they can travel there and back.

• So when the voice of Verosika Mayday starts singing CPR on your headphones, you can't not sing along, the main reason you started listening to her is because she does these covers. You don't even try to sing quietly, you're just going all out.

• Charlie doesn't know how to react well to sexual situations, be it a sudden porn commercial with Angel that decided to pass on the TV, random posters with nudity on the streets or even songs. So when you hear you sing explicit lyrics she does panic a little.

• She would politely ask you to lower down your voice, she wouldn't forbid you from listening to your music, especially if it is something that reminds you of earth, but she does want you to be a little more quiet with those suggestive words.

𖤓Vaggie

• If she heard you singing anything like that she would first give you a harsh look and cross her arms from the other side of the room, she does not enjoy how explicit you're being but Charlie said to not cause problems with the other members of the hotel.

• The second time she listens to you sing like that she snaps and grabs your phone away from you, scolding your and saying that if you want to stay in the hotel you'll have to behave and that those songs are against what the hotel stands for.

• She's very passionate on making Charlie's dream come true and will try to do anything in her power to ban stuff that resembles sin from the hotel, she already couldn't get rid of the bar, at least she can put a stop to vulgar songs. That causes some minor conflicts between you both.

• And don't even try to explain that it is a song from your period of time and that is just fine from where you came from on earth, she'll not listen and still say you can't listen or sing to those songs anymore. You resort to only listening to them in your room.

𖤓Alastor

• I think it's no surprise that Alastor dislikes anything that resembles modernity, he hates the annoying picture boxes, the noisy rectangles that people carry around, and of course, he hates the newer songs as well.

• When he hears you sing any song that has sexual connotation he rolls his eyes in annoyance and lowers his deer ears, he gives you a death stare and makes sure to show he's annoyed. He doesn't get why you listen to that instead of classier music like jazz.

• He would first try to be the polite gentlemen that he is and gently ask you to turn the volume down, but if you keep doing it you can say goodbye to your phone, he's going to burn it or at least break it.

• He's a man that loves the old fashion and doesn't want frivolous modernity to ruin anything in his little theater of hopeless souls that is the hotel. You better never play those songs around him again or a broken phone will be the least of your problems.

𖤓Husker

• He already has to deal with Angel being his annoying self and always being vulgar with him, the moment he realizes he'll have to deal with you too he's going to try and ban you from the bar and tell you to stay a 5 meter radius away from him.

• He's just so done with everyone's bullshit, he doesn't care that it's a modern song and that reminds you of home or that some fancy Succubus is the one singing it; he's going to shoo you away from his sight of view.

•That only makes you want to annoy him more to be honest. You normally either team up with Angel to stress the shit out of him with a improvised karaoke at the bar or make Niffty get the song stuck in her head, she spends a lot of time around Husker and making her sing while she works close to him always makes him give you a death stare.

•Simply putting, there's now a banned sign with your face in the bar's wall and he gave Niffty permission to stab you if you stepped too close to it and now you have to say sorry to Husker if you want to ever have another drink.

𖤓Angel

• This man does not care in the slightest that you're singing a song with explicit words, in fact, I believe he actually knows the lyrics as well, he's the only one that listens to pop songs on a daily basis and is more used than anyone else at the hotel with more modern human songs.

• You two would be karaoke buddies, even if the karaoke is at your rooms in the hotel, or literally in the lobby. The moment a song he likes starts playing he'll pull you with his arms and start singing with you.

• You two mainly do that to annoy Husker at his bar, you two make a poor bartender deal with two drunk people singing something like CPR weekly. He doesn't trust you both on the bar on Fridays anymore.

• Songs are the way you both bond, he likes your vibes but when you two sing is the moment he knows he can just be himself without being judged or called a whore for a moment.

𖤓Lucifer

• He secretly listens to his songs. He has been alone for a long long time, he has listened to multiple types of music genres and heard everything, he just enjoys having music on the background while he does anything else.

• He's kind of surprised when he listens to you singing, Charlie told him you died very recently but he didn't imagine it was that recently. He thinks it's a good idea to try and start a conversation with you about you similar tastes in songs, that's how you make friends after all.

• After some practice on what to say and not just be a complete mess in front of you, he starts the conversation, you two actually get along pretty well, you're surprised someone as old as him listens to such recent songs and actually knows artists like Verosika.

• He's pretty chill about the lyrics, but will ask you to tone it down a little while singing to not disturb the other people at the hotel.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #angel dust #charlie hazbin hotel #charlie x reader #hazbin angel dust #angel dust x reader #husker x reader #husker hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #vaggie x reader #hazbin vaggie

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3lostyears · 4 months

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timepetals thoughts i keep having:

i know that the assumption is “she is my s-” means soulmate but i always think he just thinks of rose as his soul. less that she completes him or is his other half and more that she just is his conscience and any goodness he may have is hers. he was born out of love for her, she is such an integral part of him, she is his soul itself.

i know everyone has taken permanent damage from the “how long are you going to stay with me” and why the general focus is on the doctor’s reaction but the way rose says forever gets to me. she’s not giddy or girlish when she says it, in some ways she almost sounds resigned to it, which has wonderfully angsty connotations in the timeline of s2. but it’s why it really works for me, she is so dead serious and committed when she says it, because she understands everything it means (and therefore part of her feels solemn about it). it has a lot of weight to it. even the first time donna says she’s going to travel with the doctor forever to martha at the end of the doctor’s daughter she sounds a lot more fanciful.

every time i hear the doctor scream when rose loses her grip in doomsday i just think that he would absolutely not have survived her actually being sucked into the void.

i always think the vocals in doomsday are similar to the doctor’s theme so to me the angry rock music is rose’s side and the vocals are his, rather than the howling wolf idea i’ve heard some people compare it to. how the doctor’s theme is lonely and mournful with its sparse instruments but calm, everything the ninth doctor was, while doomsday is heartbroken and angry and an entire orchestra because it’s two people overcome with grief together. how doomsday becomes such a motif for both characters individually, even when they're separated.

i still struggle to comprehend that the doctor wearing floral ties in s3 is canon and NOT a fanfic trope like you're telling the doctor said "i need a floral motif as close to my two hearts as possible" and you're describing him as something other than a grieving widower???

the doctor really could not go anywhere in s3 without running into some kind of couple but i never see people talk about the parallels in 42. “we chose this ship together / he keeps me honest so i don’t want false hope” and the way the doctor literally gives mcdonnell his condolences through gritted teeth?? the fact that she would rather die with korwin than be without him and have it be her fault

that the doctor, king of self-loathing, saw rose dressed as his ninth self and carrying a giant weapon and he not only RAN to her but then deliberately protected her from the trauma of seeing him change again. and then tentoo immediately picks a blue suit to be like now i’m matchey matchey with rose 🥰 the universe was ending and he’d seen rose again for two actual minutes but the doctor was so utterly focused on her.

how tentoo truly is rose's doctor, especially as he's got that little bit of nine in him. he's born out of the same love and protection of his previous incarnations but he loses a heart and the curse of the timelords and goes oh, this is rose's heart. and then he wears the blue mourning suit and yes, there is still mourning, but there is also the start of the rest of their lives together.

how the doctor’s hair most noticeably changed after school reunion to become spikier and less boyish. how that coincides with him using mickey to put distance between himself and rose now that he’s been reminded of rose’s mortality.

how wild the doctor and jack’s conversation in utopia is. the way the doctor says “rose” like it’s an entire explanation in itself because even before she absorbed the time vortex she fundamentally changed the life of everyone she met. the way he says “everything she did was so human” and the way he accepts jack’s sorry to him because there’s no trying to deny his feelings from jack, not when he saw his ninth self. the way jack has BARELY finished his sentence about watching rose grow up when the doctor casually asks him if he wants to die, the almost playful way he says it. one semi suicidal immortal who spent half of the season trying to get himself killed to another, both of them still kind of toying with the idea. both of them trying to have hope even though they've lost so much.

#doctor who #timepetals #rose tyler #meta #dw meta

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naneun-no · 3 months

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From my drafts so it’s late but:

Today’s delulu thought is that Standing Next to You has too many lyrical coincidences to not be about Jimin.

🫣 I SAID IT WAS DELUSIONAL OKAY

You are free to disagree. You probably should 🤣

I mean we know it wasn’t written by Jung Kook but obviously the version he recorded was arranged with and for JK, and “leave your body golden” can’t be a coincidence right? Like it’s the whole ass album name, plus a word that carries connotations of JK himself, which the ppl who worked with him on Seven must have known.

So if that wasn’t a coincidence… then what about:

1. “How we left and right is something we control” — a callback to both Left and Right by CP feat JK, but also a nod to Butter, a massive BTS hit and a song that he performs alongside his boyfie bestie JM.

2. “When it’s deep like DNA, something they can’t take away” — a callback to another massive BTS hit, interesting. And *delulu warning* also reminds me of JM and JK’s extreme similarities that they themselves have referred to before?? They’re wired the same, they have the same sense of humor, they live and breathe for the same shit and even though they have some very key differences, they really do seem like twin flames (even if you just see it as platonic). They are similar in ways that seem braided into the fibers of their being. Like, in their DNA 🧬 some may say. *delulu warning #2* I’m also reminded of Jimin’s Letter lyrics: “After all this time has passed will we still be the same? Just like we were when we first met.”

Also, “something they can’t take away” is an interesting turn of phrase… more on that later.

3. Okay the real meaty part:

Screaming I’ll testify that we'll survive the test of time, they can't deny our love. They can't divide us, we'll survive the test of time I promise I'll be right here

[I seriously can’t believe how closeted-couple-coded this song is]

First off, again with the Letter lyrics mirrored here with the “test of time.” Then it’s got all this drama about being ripped apart and how it won’t happen and how they’ll be next to each other no matter what and that they have “something they can’t take away.”

Not only does all that line up with other Letter lyrics, but it is so goddamn dramatic and for what?

Be for real, what straight couple in this day and age would have this much working against them?? The only possible explanations are: 1) within the fantasy world of a song I suppose this could be some sort of Romeo and Juliet/West Side Story motif, and to be fair the music video did have a kind of rival gang/crime family look to it? Sort of? With the men fighting below the stage? Idk. Or it could be 2) the fact that idols do in fact often have to hide even their straight relationships, which is wild to me. But I know it’s a thing, so. I suppose there’s that. JK doesn’t seem the type though honestly. I think he’d be even more open about it than V.

On the other hand, the lyrics seem SO fit for a couple who are a) queer, b) closeted, c) currently in/about to be in a legislatively homophobic military and country (am I saying that right? Lol) and d) internationally famous pop idols in the SAME BAND who are both widely regarded as heterosexual sex symbols and would be shunned by many people in their homeland AND internationally if their queerness were to be revealed, much less if they were truly an item and THAT news broke.

Whew. That was a lot but like… that would be a real example of a relationship that would be VERY threatened by outside forces plotting against them and trying to separate them. Not JK and a hot blonde model, not him and a Korean actress, not basically any other scenario but a queer relationship.

Idk I know he didn’t write it but like ??? What the hell is that theme? I’m dying to get inside the mind of the people who DID write it, because are they or are they jikookers at this point like?!

4. Just for fun I’ll also point out the “leave your body golden like the sun and moon” 😏 like. Okay. At this point the songwriters are watching Jikook compilations, drooling over @slaaverin edits like convince me they’re not. CONVINCE ME.

5. “Deeper than the rain”?! “The pain”?! Alright I’m not even serious at this point but ??? Rainy day fight 🌧️?!?! 🤣🤣

6. “Standing next to you” oh you mean like… for 18 months? In a companion enlistment program? Like that?

Alright alright I’m done but you get my point. What even is this song if not an anthem of jikookery?! It’s more on-the-nose than Letter, more sneaky than Still With You. It wasn’t written by JK but at this point I’m calling that the songwriters are as delulu as me.

Hope y’all are well. If you made it to the end of this thank you for donning your tinfoil hat with me and I hope you at least got a giggle.

✌️

#jikook #kookmin #jimin and jungkook #jikook theories #delulu time

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yazthebookish · 3 months

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Hello my loves❤️!!

I've said that I do not intend to discuss anything HOFAS-related since I haven't read the book and I only know a few details I specifically asked.

But I read the beautiful, beautiful Bryce, Nesta, and Azriel Walmart chapter and I need to just gush about something. It's not the whole chapter but just small parts of it mostly relating to Azriel.

Disclaimer: I have no interest in engaging in ship discourse (annoy me and it's an immediate block) nor do I want someone to change my opinion because it will not be changed. I stick by what I read and interpret in these books and am quite happy and content with it 😉

⚠️ Bryce, Nesta, and Azriel Bonus Chapter Spoilers Ahead! ⚠️

And with each mile onward, she could hear Azriel humming softly to himself. The rolling, wild melody of "Stone Mother" flowed off his lips, and she could have sworn even the shadows danced at the sound.

Do you realize that the entire time Bryce was playing the songs on her phone, she made no comments on Azriel's shadows but towards the end when her phone's battery died and Azriel started humming to himself, then she made a note of the shadows dancing at his sound.

They did not dance to her songs, they dance to Azriel's humming and I find that so endearing!!

It proves my point again at the instances we get descriptions of Azriel's shadows singing are with positive connotations. Their dancing is not written to be nefarious or odd.

Pray tell, in the entire series when Az's shadows are described to be dancing, which scenarios triggered those actions? Mostly when it comes to Gwyn because if you search in every book you won't find a description of them dancing around someone except Gwyn. This is a point I've been making since ACOSF came out and I'll highlight them below:

• These excerpts are from Azriel's bonus chapter

"How was the party?" Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music.

Gwyn wasn't singing here, they were reacting to some silent music... which we can suspect as much is the mating bond? A bond Sarah described in ACOSF as music between souls?

Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer.

His shadows sang in answer. We don't know for sure if Gwyn was singing or it was something else but I'll bet on the latter since she was training and one of his shadows earlier darted out to dance with her breath as if it heard some silent music. It still reaffirms to me that it can hear the music between souls, the mating bond.

• This is from ACOSF (pg. 623) and keep in mind this is post-Solstice/Azriel's bonus chapter

Azriel clapped his hands, and all the females straightened. "You'll work in groups of three."

Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright,

"What do we get if we finish the course?"

Az's shadows danced around him. "Since there's no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn't bother to get a prize."

One of the things I absolutely love when it comes to SJM's romances is she creates a common ground for the couple and gives them some things to bond and connect to.

In this instance, it's not only about Azriel's shadows but the fact that he also is fond of music. He doesn't express his fondness through dancing like Nesta, he hums to the tune. He sings.

Who else adores music and sings? Gwyn.

Who made Azriel admit that he sings? Gwyn.

These are not a coincidental connections.

And the author is a big fan of music so I think it's such a beautiful connection to create between two characters that have had such a dark and tragic past and are still processing the trauma they experienced.

The chapter did not give us much in terms of ships or who is Azriel into, but it did elaborate more on Azriel's fondness for music. It did elaborate on the genuine reactions of his shadows which were sometimes always framed in a negative way.

It also kind of proved my cute headcanon about whenever Azriel sings, his shadows dance around him.

I honestly can't wait for his book!! But first we have to tackle HOFAS so look forward to my reading updates in a few days!

#hofas #hofas spoilers #gwynriel #yaz reads hofas #yaz the bookish breaks her silence #okay yaz didn't read hofas I just want to keep it in that tag for future reference Lol

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yilinwriter · 2 months

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Kindred Spirits 知音: "The One Who Truly Understands Your Songs"

For #AroWeek, I want to talk about the Chinese term 知音 (pronounced zhīyīn in Mandarin), which has influenced my thinking about queerplatonic relationships. zhī 知: to know, knowing yīn 音: music, sound literally, a zhīyīn is someone who "truly understands your songs"

the term zhīyīn comes from a story about finding a kindred spirit through music.

There are many versions of the story. Here's one version:

One day, the musician Yu Boya was playing a qin (see image) in the wilderness, when he met Zhong Ziqi.

When Boya played one song, Ziqi immediately understood it and described it as reflecting the mood of soaring mountains (高山). When Boya played another song, Ziqi also comprehended immediately and described it as creating the mood of flowing waters (流水). Ziqi could understand all of Boya's songs. When Ziqi passed away, Boya felt so distressed that he destroyed his qin and never played it again. Boya thought of Ziqi as a "zhīyīn," and that term continues to be widely used to this day.

In a modern context, the term of "zhīyīn" is often translated into English as a soulmate, a kindred spirit, or a very close friend, but at its core, it's a term that refers to a type of intensely emotional, spiritual, and platonic connection with someone.

The original songs played by Boya have been long lost to the passage of time, but musicians and composers have tried to imagine what the songs might have sounded like.

There's even a recording of "Flowing Waters" (流水) included on the Voyager Golden Record, symbolically helping humankind search for a zhīyīn as it drifts around in outer space.

youtube

For me, as an aspec (demiromantic, biromantic, and asexual) Sino diaspora femme, the idea of zhīyīn offers me a way to think about the concept of queerplatonic relationships, given that it's very similar to the idea of a soulmate but without the necessary romantic connotations of the word in English. The concept of zhīyīn is explored again and again in various Sinophone literature and popular media, from wuxia and xianxia c-dramas to poetry that alludes explicitly or indirectly to zhīyīn.

Folks who follow my work as a translator might know that I have been translating poems by Qiu Jin (1875-1907), one of China's most renowned feminist poets. She frequently wrote about her longing for a zhīyīn. Some of my translations: https://chinachannel.lareviewofbooks.org/2021/02/12/qiu-jin/

The concept of zhiyin also features prominently in my upcoming book of poetry translations, The Lantern and the Night Moths. I originally wrote this thread for Twitter but wanted to bring it here for #AroWeek. Alloromantic folks, please take a moment to learn more about #AroWeek and support arospec creators. If you are arospec and found me via this tweet, please feel free to say hi!

#translation #music #zhiyin #cdrama #aromantic #aspec #aro week #chinese folklore #高山流水 #guqin #Youtube

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hana-no-seiiki · 10 months

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𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 𝐎𝐂! [ 𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐈 ] 𝐱 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐔𝐏! 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

— [ 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ] ( full drawing at the end of post )

𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌. This was the norm with idols. Nothing was wrong with such a premise you surmised, as only fools would believe their idols act the same on camera and behind. It was simple. They had an image and a personality, two completely different things in the entertainment world.

Hayate’s image was this brash, straight to the point, no nonsense person. A man who did not care much about looks, but was completely devoted to the art of music. A startling contrast to his angel like singing voice. Gap Moe, as his fans and manager would put it.

Hayate’s personality behind the cameras however, is what you would say an almost complete one-eighty.

The bi-colored haired boy was total skincare fanatic, he loved fashion, planning out his looks, journaling, and working out for the sake of keeping his body in shape. You say almost because he was incredulously meticulous either-way. You never met a man who was so passionate that it often infected you to do the same in your career and life. He enjoyed idol-work, breathed it, and deserved every bit of success he’d gotten so far.

He was also, still brash even behind the scenes.

“Why the hell would you be jealous of me?” To many, Hayate’s voice was intimidating — rough, and quite loud. It was jarring to see him switching from his speaking one to his singing. But to you who had spend far too long with this man, it was normal. And sometimes normal was something to crave for.

And boy did Hayate enjoy those normal moments between you two.

“Hayate, who wouldn’t be jealous of a man whose group had won several awards in their rookie years, now topping every chart.”

“A complete All-Kill, innit?” Your co-worker spoke from a couple of feet away. He was in charge of styling Hayate’s mess of a hair. The two of you are the only people capable of being physically close to him, aside from his members without being mauled. And you mean mauled in every sense of the term.

“Besides that, you’re just so motivated all the time. It’s like you have endless energy to do what you have to do.”

You noticed Hayate visibly relax, his tense posture almost escaping your eyes earlier. You make a mental note to bring him out to rest again one day. Most likely after your pay-day. Hayate always offered to pay for stuff you two bought on an outing but you just couldn’t do him like that.

Your co-worker chimed in again, “Meanwhile [Y/N] is here downing several [Fave Caffeinated Drink] just to get through the day.”

“Why are you here again?” You and Hayate deadpanned in sync, earning a laugh from all three of you in the room.

“I just . . . have a good. . . source of motivation.” The singer gave you a heavy, alluring stare. His muscle tee allowing you to view his neck slowly turning scarlet.

“He’s all red.”

“Fuck, I completely forgot to blend his neck! Wait, where’s my foundation brush?!” You screeched, running out to find wherever it could have gotten to in the building, knowing you most likely forgot it in the another member’s room. Either completely unaware of Hayate’s intense look, or simply too dense to understand the connotation of it.

Your colleague snorted as the door closed behind you, “You’re going to have to be more obvious than that lover boy, they’re worse than a brick wall.”

“. . .”

“Not even a sure, mate?” The British man sighed. It was always like this. Whenever you were out Hayate would just go silent. Only ever speaking to direct the stylist’s actions. You always insisted that your client saw you two as equal as you’ve never witnessed him acting this way, and every time the hair stylist spoke to you about it he could feel the menacing glare down his spine just provoking him to speak so that Hayate would pounce at an excuse to fire and sue him for defamation.

Once he was done styling the idol’s hair, Mr. Co-Worker backed off immediately. Knowing full well of the consequences of lingering around Hayate any longer.

“I’m back!” You hollered, a limp on your step due to a large man glomping you from behind.

“And who’s that behind you?” Your co-worker sighed. With you around his risk of dying goes down by at least 70%.

“Ehe.” But with Eve of all people to rile Hayate up, he’ll have to crank those chances back up again. The visual of the group had apparently stolen it earlier when he came by to do his daily dues in pushing Hayate one step further to an aneurysm. It was an important duty he had to fulfill as a member of Yesterday’s Dawn, and bringing you into the mix happened to annoy the vocalist the most.

“Don’t ehe me, Soo-bitch! Get the hell out of my make-up room!”

Eve smooches you on the cheek before promptly sticking his tongue out, “BLEGHHHHHH!!!”

You froze in response.

You see the veins protruding on Hayate’s temples and neck, reminding you of the job you came into the room to properly finish. Angry Hayate was something you haven’t seen in a while, but experienced has taught you not to react much and proceed with your job as if he isn’t planning several ways of mutilation at the moment.

It worked as moments later he calmed down and began chatting with you again.

Perhaps you should retract your judgment of his character. Hayate didn’t have sides he just had layers, and you his beloved make-up artist, were in the deepest one.

@yesterdaysdawnofficial just posted something! Check it out?

❤️ 💬 ✈️

1,426,394 likes

yesterdaysdawnofficial just two pretty bois uwu -eve

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yesterdayssleepfxker✅ nice.

yesterdaysfoodfxker✅ BLUDNDJDJ BLUR THE LOGO BLUR THE LOGO

yesterdaysbeauty ✅ there goes our sumsang sponsorship…

maniacforhayate AAAAAAAA OPPAR SaRANGhae

yesterdaysstan in this part of the ydjungle we see hayatus sasakus warding off one of his potential mates via hypnosis. completely uninterested.

_sanctuary_of_flowers_ *fanfic typing intensifies*

[ AUTHOR’S NOTE ]

Hayate was pretty much born from my weird obsession with working out and practicing the violin lately. My parents said that I look and sound hella constipated doing both and so an emotionally constipated yandere just came into mind.

also i “referenced” that one photo of jungkook holding a mirror to jimin’s meme face for this in case you thought the artwork looked familiar. tried using a new hair coloring style ehe.

UNEDITED

want more content like this? check my masterlist or the first few tags for more specific posts.

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023. artworks, characters, and story belongs to me. please do not redistribute, repost, or translate without permission.

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useless-bulgariafacts · 1 year

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October 26th is Dimìtrovden/Mitrovden (Димитровден), or the Orthodox feast day of St. Demetrius of Thessaloniki. (Bulgarian: Свети Димитър Солунски) He is a 3rd-4th century Christian saint and great martyr (великомъченик) from the city of Thessaloniki in Greece, of which he is the patron saint.

Hagiographies refer to St. Demetrius as a young man of a senatorial family, who became proconsul and was tasked with persecuting Christians in the at the time still pagan Roman Empire. However, being himself Christian, he instead protected them, for which the emperor had him jailed. He was later speared to death as punishment for the defeat of the gladiator Lyaeus at the hands of Demetrius' disciple, Nestor. This marked the beginning of his veneration by Christians in the area, which grew in the following centuries, as he was said to guard the city against raiders.

Albeit not one originally, during the Middle Ages St. Demetrius came to be revered as a warrior saint, and iconography portrays him riding on a red horse, running a spear through various enemies — often Lyaeus, but also whoever was locally perceived as an enemy. In Greek icons, this is sometimes the Bulgarian tsar Kaloyan, while in Bulgarian ones — the Byzantine emperor Basil II The Bulgarslayer, or later on, a Turk. St. Demetrius is also associated with the founding of the Second Bulgarian Tsardom, specifically the uprising of the brothers Petăr and Asen, which broke out on Oct. 26th, 1185. The St. Demetrius church in Veliko Tărnovo (pictured above) was built in commemoration the event, and served as a coronation site of Asen dynasty tsars, who claimed him as their patron.

Traditionally, Dimitrovden marks the end of the seasonal transition from fall to winter, a period which begins on Oct. 14th with Petkovden. Bulgarian folk mythology casts the saints George and Demetrius in the role of twin brothers, whose respective holidays split the year into its warm and cold halves. The latter, elder of the two, ushers in the cold and darkness, as he rides in on his red horse and the winter's first snowflakes sprinkle down onto the earth from his beard. As St. George's opposite and counterpart, he takes on the qualities of a chthonic deity, and thus has connotations to death and the Beyond — under his patronage the so-called Dimitrovska Zadushnica takes place on the Saturday prior to Dimitrovden, one of several such holidays where food is given out in honor of deceased ancestors. Perhaps this is also why, in addition to St. George, folk imagination places him as a brother to Archangel Michael and nephew to St. Paraskeva/Petka.

Dimitrovden is the true end to the year's agrarian cycle — the harvest now over, it's time to put the farm tools away, make sure the animals have shelter and firewood is stocked up. It's also when farmhands and other labourers' contracts expire and they get rehired for the year ahead, which is why the day is also known as Razpust (Разпуст). As with other big holidays, a community-wide celebratory feast is held, and the customary ritual meal (or kurban) is mutton. The biggest ram is chosen, a pair of gold-painted apples are placed onto its horns and those present bow before it, after which it's slaughtered and cooked, and receives a priest's blessing before being served. Festivities are accompanied by music and horo (group dancing), which again has an intended matchmaking function. Namesakes of the saint celebrate the occasion, too — but they're traditionally served a chicken or rooster dish, according to gender. Other foods for Dimitrovden include corn, seasonal fruit and derived dishes, such as apple pita, pestil (a type of plum dessert), rachel (pumpkin syrup), etc.

Another activity which traditionally ends on Dimitrovden is construction work — a new house is supposed to have been completed by then, and the homeowners celebrate by throwing their own feast with a kurban, and inviting friends and relatives to witness the house being blessed by the master mason and the priest. The feast day has therefore been adopted as a career holiday of builders and masons.

The day's connection to the mysterious and otherworldly has inspired various beliefs and rituals of prognostic or divinatory nature, and anything from the weather and moon phases, to the behaviour of farm animals is observed carefully and used to make future predictions. Characteristic is the custom, known as polazvane (полазване), wherein members of the household make note of the first person to visit them, to physically cross the threshold into their home, and interpret them as a portent of things to come. Also, according to old treasure hunting legends, Dimitrovden is when "the sky opens" and buried gold emits a blue-ish flame just above ground.

Dimitrovden is part of the group of holidays, based around the idea of transition and liminality; between fall and winter, between the world of the living and of the dead. The Christian and pre-Christian symbolism intertwine, the martyr death of the saint mirrors the "death" of nature as the earth is covered in snow and daytime engulfed by darkness. And crucially — for a people whose perception of time follows nature's cycles — the coming of winter brings not only a period of calm and rest, but the promise of spring and renewal.

#Bulgaria #Slavic #Balkan #Eastern Europe #Orthodox #folklore #mythology #customs #Dimitrovden #here you go bulgarian halloween pt.2 #I am again sorry it's several days later but it took a while to write ok

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little-diable · 1 year

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Holy Realm - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

Father Riddle will always be my favourite dark character to write for. Please remember, don't like it, don't read it. But please, like and reblog if you did enjoy reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: (Y/n) has found her way back home, spending her summer vaction with her overly religious mother, who introduces her to a man that is set on blemishing her once pure soul.

Warnings: 18+, smut, sex in a church, oral (m), religious connotations, heavy power play, dub!con, degration, praying a rosary

Pairing: Father!Tom Riddle x nonreligious!fem!reader (3.2k words)

Header by @deathofpeaceofmind

“Hurry, I don’t want to miss the service!” (Y/n) had to bite down her groan, hurrying after her mother, taking two steps at a time. The sun was about to set, drenching the horizon in a dark red, symbolic of the pain they’ll pray about, the suffering the son of Christ had endured. Mere stories (y/n) could pay no mind to, not believing in the bible nor the religion her mother clung to.

The church was filled, only two spots in the first row were still left empty, forcing yet another groan out of (y/n). She had returned home only a day ago, cursing herself for giving in, for following her mother’s call to spend her summer vacation at home. Deep down she had missed her family, the small town she had grown up in, but after only a few hours of being back home, (y/n) was ready to leave once again.

Her tired eyes took in her surroundings, the familiar faces that smiled at her, forcing a fake smile to widen on (y/n)’s lips. She could only hope that the service will pass quickly, allowing her to hide away in her old room with her book and some music to distract herself from her parent’s bickering.

(Y/n)’s wandering thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door being pushed open, exposing a man she hadn’t seen before. He carried himself with a dark gaze and an almost too straight posture, eyes set ahead, focusing on the cross towering over the altar. “That’s father Riddle, he joined the community last September.” (Y/n) couldn’t pay her mother’s whispers a thought, fully mesmerized by the handsome man that left her heart racing.

“Good evening, I’m glad to see so many of you in our holy halls, please, pray with us.” His eyes met hers, only for a few seconds, and yet (y/n) felt herself trembling in her seat. There was something about the man that left her yearning for more, hoping that his gaze would wander back to her frame soon. Like a school girl crushing on her professor, hanging onto his every word, (y/n) felt herself being pulled into his grasp.

The man didn’t smile once, he had nothing sweet to him, making her question how a man like him had found the love for caring for those that shared the same beliefs. He didn’t strike her like a man of God, appearing like a demon that had crawled straight from hell, with eyes that still reflected the flames of suffering, threatening to burn those that stared for too long.

“Stand up.” (Y/n)’s mother tugged on her elbow, forcing (y/n) to her feet. Father Riddle was already staring at her, without any emotions lingering in his gaze, and yet (y/n) found herself shrinking away, hoping that he wouldn’t call her out on her state of distraction. She didn’t speak the prayers, didn’t give in once, perhaps she was trying to provoke a reaction out of the father, wondering if he’d stare at her long enough to wordlessly communicate with her. But he didn’t, not once did his gaze linger long enough to make (y/n) feel the heat his eyes reflected.

“For the Lord is a great God, and a great king above all gods. Come, let us worship and bow down and kneel before the Lord our Maker.” The prayer echoed through the church, words (y/n) didn’t speak, keeping her mouth shut even as her mother gave her a small push, hoping that her daughter would give in. It was pathetic, really, but she couldn’t help but search his gaze, too intrigued to back down just yet. The man’s trap had forced her to her knees, abiding to his every command, he could toy with her body and soul, and she’d blindly give in. Darkness had touched her soul, seeping into her every pore, one with the call of the underworld the son of God had once wandered.

“May you rest well knowing that He will hear your call. Have a good evening, thank you.” The shadow of a smile found its way to the man’s lips as he ended the service, closing the bible with his eyes still set on the community that hung onto his every word. (Y/n) had to snap herself out of her mesmerized state, embarrassed by the way she had to press her thighs together, feeling her panties growing damper by the second.

“Come, I want to introduce you.” Before (y/n) could try and protest her mother had already tugged on her hand, pulling her towards the line of people that wanted to speak to the man. Once again (y/n) allowed herself to take in his tall frame, the white collar that perfectly pressed against his throat, the jaw muscles that ticked whenever he listened to the ones praising his service.

“Father Riddle, what a glorious service it has been. This is my daughter, (y/n), she’s sadly not a follower of Christ.” (Y/n) had to bite down her snort, breath hitched in her chest as his eyes found hers once again. It took her a moment to snap out of her state, shooting him a small smile as he shook her hand, squeezing tighter than she had expected him to.

“It’s good to finally meet you, (y/n). Please, if you ever find the need to strengthen your belief, our church will always be open for you.” Her mouth felt dry, unable to reply to the words that had a teasing undertone to them.

“Oh, what a lovely idea! She will definitely visit in the next few days, if somebody can reassure her of God’s love it will be you, father.” (Y/n) didn’t find the strength to protest, couldn’t ignore the excitement buzzing through her at the thought of crossing paths with the man again, without her mother near. With a small smile lingering on his lips the man nodded his head, murmuring a soft “I can’t wait” before he bid the two goodbye.

And with a heavy breath exhaled, (y/n) followed her all too oblivious mother out of the church.

—

It was the next evening when (y/n) found herself walking up the stairs of the church once again. She had her hands clinging onto the strap of her bag, needing to find something to hold onto, unsure what to expect. Her mother hadn’t stopped talking about the man, begging her daughter to give in and go talk to him, praying that she would find her way back to God. And even though (y/n) hadn’t paid her mother's rambling much attention, she found herself thinking about the man, the way she wanted to be touched by him.

Hours after the service had ended her hands had started wandering, hiding away in the darkness of her room, following the call those believing in God would curse. Her thoughts had raced through her mind, painting pictures of the tall man, wondering how he’d touch her, if he’d allow her to drop to her knees for him. Mere thoughts that have pushed her closer and closer to the edge, giving in with a heavy gasp rumbling through her.

“Hello?” (Y/n)’s voice echoed through the empty church, met by nothing but silence. Slowly she walked further through the building, up to the altar, eyes taking in the colourful glass windows, the paintings that told the story of Christ, and the heavy cross hanging over her head. Her gaze found the door the father had walked through yesterday evening, spots of light were reflected through the milky glass, calling her closer.

“Father Riddle?” She called out, knocking on the door before she pushed it open. Her eyes met his, pushing the same heat she had felt yesterday through her system, smiling at the man.

“(Y/n), what a joy. I hadn’t expected you to find your way back here so soon, please, sit.” She shut the door before she sat down on the chair near his table, taking in the shelves filled with books, feeling the cold that lingered in his office, a clear contrast to the warmth that had filled the halls of the church. “Tell me, how is it being back home? Your mother told me she hasn’t seen you in years.”

“It’s different, I now remember why I have stayed away for so long.” The words rolled off her tongue without thinking twice about them, grateful for the raspy chuckle that rumbled through the man. His eyes didn’t stray from her features once, taking in every inch, every imperfection he found himself intrigued by. As if he was the last truth humankind had to cling to, his presence filled the room, luring her further into his trap.

“Do you remember why you lost your faith? Your mother told me about your struggles with God.” He rose from his seat, walking towards the small desk nearby to fill a glass with water. Her gaze followed his every step, drawn to him like a sinner following the devil’s call, one with the darkness those that believed in the creator of all life feared.

“I don’t think I’ve ever truly believed in God, how can you, when all this pain and suffering is happening?” He placed the glass of water in front of her, not moving away as he leaned back against his table, knees almost touching (y/n)'s. The man was now towering over her, wordlessly communicating the power he held over her, as if she was a puppet he guided, tugging on the strings that forced her to sit still.

“You see, (y/n), God works in mysterious ways, it’s not on us to question him. I fear you have been tainted, you’ve been lured in by the devil’s call. Your mother is suffering, because of your disloyalty to God, don’t you want to see her happy?” She didn't know how to reply, would normally start laughing about words like these and run from those that dared to abuse their power, but she couldn’t move, glued to her seat with trembling thighs and a racing heart. “Speak up when you’re asked to.”

“I,” (y/n) heavily swallowed, pondering over the words that burned on the tip of her tongue. “How do I find my way back to God when I’ve pushed him away for so long?” His hand found her jaw, tilting her head up to keep looking at him, not giving (y/n) a chance to move away from the man. The father had a tight grip on her, leaving marks she’d have to hide from her mother when morning rose over the small town that had been brainwashed by the one that was now guiding her.

“Put your trust in me, show me how much you want to find your way back to Him and I shall show you the way.” His voice grew raspier with every spoken word, waiting for the small nod of her head before he spoke up once again. “Good. Follow my command and you will be freed from the devil's grasp. Kneel for me, (y/n).”

She dropped to her knees, jeans rubbing against the rough carpet. Her eyes didn’t dare stray from his dark ones, unable to think straight, unable to realise that the man was playing with the power he held over her. This is what she had been dreaming of last night, wondering how he’d manhandle her, and who was she to deny herself of her needs?

“Here, take this.” (Y/n) took the white rosary from him, fingertips absentmindedly rolling the wooden pearls. Her eyes followed the movements of his hands, watching him unbuckle his belt, freeing his hardening cock from his dark trousers. “Keep holding onto it for now. Open your mouth for me, and prove to me how much you love God.”

Her lips parted, welcoming his cock into her mouth, swallowing around him. The father was ruthless, tugging her closer with his hand finding the back of her head, making (y/n) gag around him. Tears salty like the body of water the son of Christ had walked upon ran down her cheeks, dropping one by one like the sinners that had fallen from heaven with Lucifer.

The corners of her mouth burned, saliva dripped from her chin, onto the rosary she was holding in her hands. His moans guided her, silently praising her for the pressure she used on his cock, how she bobbed her head with the right amount of speed, slowly adjusting to his size.

Their eyes kept holding contact, reminding (y/n) that there was no running from the man that perfectly embodied the darkness she had been warned of since she had been a mere child. A darkness she was intrigued by, hoping that the grasp he had on her wouldn’t grow loose just yet, curious to find out what else he’d do to her.

“Atta girl, fuck, such an eager whore, ready to please me.” His words left her moaning around him, finding pride in the way he was praising her. (Y/n) felt herself dripping, walls clenching around nothing, needing to be filled by him.

His cock twitched in her mouth as the man started fucking her mouth, abusing her with his tip meeting the back of her throat, leaving her heaving for air. She didn’t dare move away, greedily swallowing as he released himself in her mouth, painting her cheeks and tongue white. His groans left her trembling, praying that he’d finally give in and touch her like she needed him to.

With too much force the father pulled her off his cock, taking a step back to let his gaze wander over her features, taking in the saliva still clinging to her skin, the swollen lips of hers, “Against the desk, spread your legs for me.”

(Y/n) rose with quivering limbs, front pressed against the table top. He worked on her jeans, pulling them down her legs with her panties following, allowing (y/n) to step out of them before he pushed her back down against the wood. Cold fingers brushed through her folds, silently chuckling as he felt her arousal clinging to her skin.

“You’re soaked for me – you see, from the moment I first saw you, I knew you had to be treated differently.” He plunged two fingers into her, pressing himself against her back to cage her. A surprised gasp left her, eyes squeezed shut, hands tightening their grip on the rosary she was still clinging to, reminding her of the mission she was now supposed to follow. “Tell me, (y/n), do you remember how to pray the rosary?”

“I think so.” Her whispers left him chuckling, he kept fucking her with his fingers as he murmured to her, leaving her torn between her arousal and the commands he was speaking.

“Show me then, pray.” The father let go of her, leaving her empty, and yet she didn’t dare question him. A shaky breath was inhaled into her lungs, eyes squeezed shut to force herself to remember the prayer she had once known by heart – as a child too young to question the belief she had been growing up with. She heard him fumble around, ripping open what she assumed to be a condom, sounds (y/n) desperately needed to distract herself from if she wanted to please him.

“Our Father, who art in heaven hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Amen.” The second the prayer had left her lips, the man had pushed into her, cock forcing her walls apart. (Y/n)’s moans filled the room, eyes still squeezed shut as she breathed through the pain, not used to being filled by a cock of his size. But the father paid no attention to her uneasiness, pulling out only to push right back in, fucking her against his table.

“Keep on praying, don’t disappoint me.” The mere thought of disappointing the man left her panicking, trying to snap out of her lust drunken state. The first Hail Mary rumbled through (y/n), trying to remember the words she was supposed to speak, calling out to those who shall help her when in need.

“Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee.” Her moans kept interrupting her, wondering if she’d eventually snap the rosary apart from the amount of pressure she used to hold onto it. Her mind was racing, unable to focus on anything but him. His thrusts grew more ferocious, forcing her hips to meet the table with every movement, sure to leave bruises that would linger for days on end.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, Pray for us sinners, Now and at the hour of our death.” A sinner she was, and yet it didn’t feel like she was sinning, as she was guided by a man of God, a man that understood the miracles mere human minds weren’t made to pick up on. Tears of desperation welled up on her eyes as his hand found its way around her middle, cupping her core. He circled her clit, coaxing another moan out of her.

“Don’t give in just yet, use your strength.” He murmured the words, adding more pressure to her touch to taint the girl even further. The man had crawled from hell, only to blemish her once pure soul, leaving holes of darkness that could no longer be filled by the light her belief had once pushed through her. Her walls fluttered around his cock, teeth finding their way into her lower lip to try and stop herself from giving in just yet.

“Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end.” The moment the prayer had left her bloody lips, he breathed out a small “Cum”, a command almost missed by the moaning woman. (Y/n) came with a gasp, letting go of the rosary to hold onto the edge of the desk, trying to claw her fingernails into the wood. He kept fucking her through her high, following moments later with a deep groan filling his fleshcage.

For a few seconds they were trapped in a thick fog of silence, catching their breaths before he pulled out of her, letting go of his tight grasp on her. No words were spoken as (y/n) tried to put her clothes back on, still trembling but now shying away from his dark gaze. Only as his hand found its way back to her chin, tilting her head up, did she give in.

“I expect you to come back tomorrow morning for our service. Don’t disappoint me, (y/n), remember that I’m your only way back into the holy realm.”

#Tom Riddle smut #little-diable priest #Tom Riddle imagine

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steddieasitgoes · 4 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 18 Prompt: Classic Christmas Songs

Tags: Eddie Munson Hates Christmas Music, Steve Harrington Has A Crush On Eddie, But He Doesn't Know It, Rewriting A Song As A Means To Flirt, Robin Buckey Is A Great Friend, Jewish Eddie

wc: 1230 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

“Christmas songs again?” Eddie groans, stepping into the warm air of Family Video. Unfurling the scarf he begrudgingly wears after Ms. Henderson went through the trouble of knitting him one last year, he moseys his way to Steve and Robin who are slouched over the counter.

“If we did do you think we would be listening to Christmas songs right now?” Robin asks, lifting her head from where she had it buried in her hands. “I’m one “Last Christmas” loop away from becoming the Grinch.”

“Hey! Don’t disrespect Wham like that!”

Eddie snorts, shaking his head. “You would love that song, big boy.” Pulling his gaze away from Steve and the annoyed pout he’s currently sporting, he locks eyes with Robin. “Quick Buckley, name the worst Christmas song.”

“Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” obviously.”

“What!” Steve gasps from beside her. “It’s romantic!”

“It’s predatory, Steve! He’s holding her hostage!”

“Sorry, Stevie, but I have to side with Robin on this one.”

“You two are ridiculous,” Steve says, rolling his eyes as he goes back to checking in returns.

“I see your “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” and I raise you “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” Eddie says.

Robin hums in contemplation before tilting her head. “Not a fan of birds?”

“Honestly, the birds are the least offensive part of the song.”

“Oh no,” Steve groans, turning around in his chair to face them. “I smell a Munson rant in our future.”

“Good thing we have all the candy we could ever ask for,” Robin muses already fishing out a container of gummy words from the candy counter to her left. “Let's hear it, Munson.”

Eddie takes a moment to gather himself, takes a big inhale of air, and then launches into his practiced rant about how “Twelve Days of Christmas” is the worst Christmas song to ever be created. Sure, it doesn’t have predatory connotations like Robin’s song, but it does have a shit ton of birds that no person would ever want to be gifted. And that’s only the beginning. He rants about the unbearable upbeat music, the repetitive nature, and all the other stupid gifts this unnamed person gets their so-called true love.

But his biggest qualm with the song comes at the end of his nearly fifteen-minute rant.

“And no one even questions why there’s suddenly 12 days of Christmas! Christmas is one day not twelve. It’s encroaching on Hanukkah,” he huffs, hands thrown in the air nearly knocking over the pile of returns Steve was previously working through. “Multiple days of celebration is our thing, but oh, no, the Christmas crew had to come take it.”

“Huh. I never thought about it like that.”

“Glad I could enlighten you,” he says, bowing in her direction. When he comes back up from his dramatic, he turns in Steve’s direction. “What about you, Stevie? Have I changed your stance on Christmas songs?”

“I mean, yeah… “Twelve Days of Christmas,” you know is a stupid song, but I mean Wham’s “Last Christmas” isn’t.”

Eddie thunks his head against the counter at the same time Robin lets out a groan. As far as Eddie’s concerned, there’s no arguing with Steve on this one. It’s best to cut is losses, rent the movie Dustin requested for the first annual Hellfire Movie Night, and get out of here before he has to bear witness to whatever Steve’s face looks like when Wham blasts through the shitty speakers.

“Take me with you,” Robin pleads, hand clasped around his wrist.

“Sorry, Buckley. You’re on your own with this one.”

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

“So far I have a dreidel, latke, and eight candles shining. But I still need five more things.” Groaning, Steve tips his head back, narrowly missing the neon Family Video sign. “This is harder than I thought.”

“What exactly are you doing?” Robin asks through a mouthful of gummy bears.

“M’trying to rewrite “Twelve Days of Christmas” into “Eight Nights of Hanukkah” for Eddie.”

“Aw, Steve,” she coos, rolling her chair over to him so she can give him a playful pat on the back. “You’re finally going to tell him you like him with a song!”

“What?” he shouts, head whipping forward. If he wakes up with a kink in his neck tomorrow, it’s entirely Robin’s fault. And he’s going to make sure she knows it. “I don’t like Eddie!"

Robin scoffs. “Right, so you’re just writing him a song because…”

“Because, his little rant was inspiring, okay? It’s not fair that Christmas has all these songs and Hanukkah only has that dreidel one,” Steve grumbles. “Maybe if he had his own song to sing he wouldn’t hate mine so much.”

“Alright well, good luck with that,” Robin snorts before quickly disappearing to help the sole customer in the store.

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

Steve spends the next three Family Video shifts rewriting “Twelve Days Of Christmas” into a Hanukkah-themed song worthy of Eddie’s praise. Reluctantly Robin pitches in on the second day, reminding Steve that the lyrics don’t have to be about Hanukkah since birds have nothing to do with Christmas.

The revelation is the key to breaking the writer's block he was facing and by the end of their third shift of the week, Steve has a perfectly crafted “Eight Night of Hanukkah” song ready for Eddie’s eyes.

When Eddie strolls in five minutes before they close, Robin starts goading Steve into delivering his present. She wants him to sing the song to him, but he’s not about to

put himself through that embarrassment — especially not in front of Eddie who can actually carry a tune. Instead, he passes Eddie the piece of paper he carefully transferred the final lyrics to this afternoon and watches with bated breath as Eddie takes it in his hands and begins to read it.

The silence is unbearable and Steve’s three seconds away from jumping over the counter, retreating to his Beamer, and running away from Hawkins so he never has to see him again, when Eddie clears his throat.

“You wrote this?” Eddie asks and Steve nods, bile rising in his chest. “For me?”

“I mean, yeah? I just… I couldn't stop thinking about what you said and—“

He’s cut off by the feeling of Eddie’s arms tugging him forward. His hip collides into the counter, but its all worth it when Eddie leans forward, wrapping himself as best he can around Steve.

He’s warm, warmer than Steve thought he would be. The scarf he’s been wearing for weeks now smells like cigarettes and something woodsy — a cologne or aftershave if Steve had to guess. Steve can feel the rise and fall of his chest as Eddie rocks him closer.

It makes Steve feel… well it, makes him feel something.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Eddie admits, finally letting go of Steve.

“It was nothing, man,” Steve shrugs and ignores the way Robin rolls her eyes beside him. At least she has the decency to hide her scoff behind an impromptu coughing fit.

“Nothing? You wrote a song! That’s not nothing! Seriously, thank you. M’gonna go home and put music to it immediately. None of that upbeat “Twelve Days of Christmas” nonsense though. This deserves real guitars.”

“Will you play it for me?”

“Course! We’re co-creators on this bad boy now!”

Steve likes the sound of that.

Maybe more than he should.

#steddiemas #two fics today surpise!#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie fluff #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve fic #eddie fic #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #robin buckley #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

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