#light versus dark path

[iamentertainmentclub-blog]

Proverbs Daily Reflection – December 16, 2024

Joseph Mekael Page, Joseph Mekael Page Ministries, Proverbs Daily, Proverbs 16:1, righteous path, wisdom, light vs dark, spiritual growth, faith-based imagery, Christian content, Bible Study, inspiration, guidance, God’s plan, fork in the road, wisdom and

Proverbs 16:1 (NLT)“We can make our own plans, but the Lord gives the right answer.” It’s natural to make plans—5-year plans, 10-year plans, and beyond. We map out education, careers, family goals, and other desires, believing they align with what’s right. But as Christians, we are reminded that the Lord orders the steps of a good man. This is based on Psalm 37:23, KJV. No matter how…

[httpsoftbunni]

The Universal Gesture of the Raised Right Hand

The raised right hand, a gesture seen across various religions, spiritual traditions, and artistic depictions, carries with it profound symbolic meaning. This ubiquitous gesture is often linked to themes of blessing, protection, authority, and enlightenment, and has been shown in the iconography of deities, spiritual leaders, and mystics for millennia. Its recurrence suggests it is more than just a physical movement; it embodies a universal archetype that is deeply ingrained in human consciousness. Through examining the gesture's origins, symbolism, and often suppressed meanings, we can gain profound insights into its role as a bridge between the material and the divine.

Core Symbolism Across Traditions

At its core, the raised right hand symbolizes reassurance and spiritual power. Across different traditions, it conveys a sense of divine protection, authority, and the dispelling of fear. In Hinduism and Buddhism, this gesture is epitomized in the Abhaya Mudra, which translates to “gesture of fearlessness.” The Buddha, often depicted with his right hand raised to shoulder height, palm outward, uses this gesture as a symbol of peace and protection, calming the fears of the devotee. Similarly, Hindu deities like Vishnu and Shiva adopt this mudra to bestow blessings and offer divine assurance.

Christian and Cross-Cultural Depictions

In Christianity, the gesture is closely associated with Jesus Christ, who is frequently depicted raising his right hand in a benediction, signifying the transmission of divine grace and spiritual power. Mary, too, is shown in similar contexts, her hand raised in a gesture of blessing. The raised right hand also carries significance in Sikhism, where Guru Nanak's gesture symbolizes divine truth and guidance. Even in occult traditions, figures such as Baphomet incorporate this gesture to represent the balance between the spiritual and material realms, echoing the principle of "as above, so below." The universality of this gesture underscores its association with spiritual authority across various cultures.

Esoteric Meaning and the Right-Hand Path

Beyond its religious and spiritual meanings, the raised right hand also has esoteric significance. It is often seen as a symbol of the "Right-Hand Path," a concept tied to righteousness, divine order, and enlightenment. This contrasts with the "Left-Hand Path," which is often associated with hidden knowledge or rebellion against established norms. This duality—light versus dark, order versus chaos—encapsulates humanity’s ongoing journey to balance material existence with spiritual transcendence.

Prehistoric and Ancient Origins

The origins of this sacred gesture stretch far back into prehistory. Before the advent of organized religion, prehistoric shamans—spiritual leaders adept at navigating altered states of consciousness—likely used the raised right hand as a nonverbal form of communication with higher realms. Cave paintings dating back over 30,000 years show figures with raised hands, suggesting a deep, intuitive connection between this posture and spiritual invocation. As civilizations emerged, this gesture became more formalized within religious and ceremonial contexts.

In ancient Sumer (around 4000 BCE), gods and rulers were often depicted with raised hands, invoking divine authority. Similarly, in ancient Egypt, deities like Osiris and Isis are frequently shown with their hands raised during sacred rituals. The Indus Valley Civilization (circa 2500 BCE) integrated mudras, symbolic hand gestures, into their early yogic practices. The Vedic texts (circa 1500 BCE) codified these hand gestures within Hindu rituals, associating them with the control of energy and blessings. Buddhism later adopted the Abhaya Mudra, as exemplified by the Buddha, who used it to calm a charging elephant sent by his cousin Devadatta, symbolizing serene power and protection.

An Archetype Across Cultures

Despite regional differences, the raised right hand has consistently symbolized divine connection across cultures. Its prevalence suggests an archetypal truth embedded in the collective human consciousness, one that spans time and geographical boundaries.

Esotericism and the Mystical Hand

In esoteric traditions such as Freemasonry and Hermeticism, the raised right hand goes beyond a simple gesture of blessing. It symbolizes the oath of initiation into higher knowledge, invoking cosmic truths that transcend ordinary understanding. The human hand itself is often viewed as a microcosm of divine creation, with its five fingers corresponding to the pentagram—a symbol of balance—and the five elements: earth, water, fire, air, and spirit. Ancient cultures believed that certain hand positions could channel energy flows within the body or invoke universal forces, further amplifying the significance of the raised right hand.

Duality and Balance in Symbolism

The duality inherent in this gesture reflects broader cosmic principles. The right hand is often associated with light, order, and divine authority, while the left hand is linked to chaos, hidden knowledge, or rebellion. This contrast is vividly illustrated in occult symbolism through figures like Baphomet, who is depicted with one hand pointing upward, toward the heavens, and the other pointing downward, toward the earth. Baphomet embodies the balance between opposites, serving as a reminder that spiritual enlightenment requires the reconciliation of dual forces.

Suppression of Esoteric Knowledge

Yet, beneath these surface meanings lies a deeper layer of significance, one that has often been suppressed or reinterpreted throughout history. Many cultures embraced the raised right hand as a sacred symbol, but its more esoteric meanings have often been obscured by religious institutions seeking to control spiritual knowledge. The myths surrounding pre-flood civilizations—such as Atlantis—speak of societies that possessed profound knowledge of sacred geometry, cosmic cycles, and spiritual science. This knowledge was likely lost or deliberately erased after catastrophic events reshaped human history.

Early Christianity, too, contained mystical teachings that were later suppressed by institutionalized religion. Gnostic texts describe Jesus as a teacher of self-mastery, rather than blind submission to external authority. Concepts such as reincarnation, which were central to early Christian thought, were removed from doctrine during Church councils. Similarly, the role of Mary Magdalene as an equal spiritual leader was diminished to reinforce patriarchal structures. These omissions serve to obscure Christianity's esoteric roots, favoring dogma over personal enlightenment.

Sound, Frequency, and Vibrational Truths

In addition to these religious suppressions, the science of sound and frequency also holds a key to understanding the deeper significance of the raised right hand. Ancient civilizations understood that sound shapes reality, a concept encoded in sacred languages like Sanskrit and Hebrew. The standard tuning of modern music (440 Hz) contrasts with ancient systems such as 432 Hz tuning, which is believed to harmonize with natural frequencies. This shift may represent a deliberate attempt to disrupt humanity's connection to higher vibrations, further distancing the masses from their spiritual potential.

The Moon and Frequency Control Theories

Some esoteric traditions even suggest that the Moon, with its perfect size for eclipses, may have been artificially placed in Earth's orbit as part of a control mechanism for human consciousness. Its presence raises questions about its origins and whether it serves as a frequency regulator, locking humanity into specific vibrational states.

Ultimately, the raised right hand represents more than just a symbolic gesture; it embodies humanity's shared spiritual heritage. Its presence across cultures suggests that it encodes universal truths about enlightenment: mastery over physical reality through alignment with cosmic laws, protection from ignorance, and guidance toward higher planes of existence. Yet, much of its deeper meaning remains hidden beneath layers of historical suppression and reinterpretation. By rediscovering these lost meanings—whether through ancient texts or modern esotericism—we can begin unlocking humanity's full potential for spiritual awakening.

The raised right hand, as a timeless and powerful gesture, continues to beckon us toward greater understanding and unity with the divine. It is a symbol that transcends time and culture, offering us an ancient key to uncovering the profound mysteries of the universe. Through it, we are reminded of our intrinsic connection to higher wisdom and the eternal quest for spiritual enlightenment.

[pheracy]

Viktor looking at Jayce in his eyes, with their faces really close. When he trusted Jayce minutes before he betrayed his trust, what they agreed he'd say on the stage. Viktor feeling Jayce's warmth around him, embraced by Jayce's arm as he always does.

When there was still hope to make others' lives better. When they had the same beliefs and shared a dream. "You should come up with me, we're partners" vs "Viktor, you're my partner!".

Jayce encouraging his partner to stand by his side and show the world their accomplishments. Jayce distracted by high society and left his partner behind without realizing it, behind a mug with his own face on it.

Viktor not even lifting his head to look at him. Viktor after Jayce didn't keep the promise he made to him. After not letting him die. Viktor who, despite being wrapped in Jayce's arms, feels nothing, not even cold, just a a charge, a potential of what once was.

Viktor knew their paths diverged long ago while Jayce just realized it. Jayce, who now is aware of what losing Viktor feels like, versus Viktor, who felt he lost Jayce time before that.

The darkness versus the light of these two scenes, one warmer and the other colder. The truth is out: Jayce used the Hexcore and Viktor's actions killed Sky.

At the top, they're both wearing their gala and lab clothes, even then emphasizing their social difference. At the bottom, neither of them is wearing the upper garment. It's no longer about science or politics, but about themselves as partners, friends.

In the first scene, Jayce gave in to pressure and made a decision on his own that he should have consulted with Viktor first. In the second scene, Jayce is going to resign from the council that pushed him away from Viktor. He understands now, nothing is more important than being with him in the lab, their special shared place.

In both scenes, Jayce's optimism stands out in convincing Viktor that they should fullfil their dream together. In the first scene, Viktor almost has an expression of admiration; he trusts Jayce and thinks he will do the right thing, what they had previously agreed. In the second scene, Viktor has lost faith in Jayce and decides that he can do it on his own; he will help the rest of humanity and make the city a better place. "I must say goodbye to this place now. To you.".

Jayce lost Viktor once again and thought what was most important was to give magic to the people, but his heart tells him nothing compares to having his partner back. "We'll make this right, together". And in the end, they did.

[follows-the-bees]

The lighting on the Queen Anne's Revenge during the couple scenes spent there is interesting.

The wood of the ship is dark, offering places for shadows and higher light absorption. The windows are covered, only allowing in peaks of sunbeams.

This is a loud symbolism of Ed's mindset. He's depressed, stuck in the dark recesses of his mind.

Every scene we see in Ed's captain's quarters Stede is mentioned. The light peaks through the darkness. It's the interesting among the mundane. The light shining through in streams hit him like the thought of Stede broaching Ed's dark thoughts and demeanor as Blackbeard.

Ed's cabin being dark in lighting, mindset, and aesthetics is a complete contract to the openness and lighter wood finishes of Stede's.

Ed is surrounded by items like skulls that reflect the persona of Blackbeard, who is shot with mainly his side and back as the main focus. The candles in the cabin are also lit oddly — only half the candles are lit, not toward Ed, but toward Izzy. And another candle is lit behind Stede.

This gives the illusion that the sunlight and candlelight represent two different things. Candles represent the life Ed wants to leave behind, that shines on Izzy, the embodiment of toxic piracy. Candles flicker, are temperamental to atmospheric changes; they offer a smaller light, and the candle being behind Ed doesn't offer him any light at all.

On the other hand, sunlight varies from blindingly bright to a soft glow, but no matter what it is warming. Ed is facing away from these candles and toward the sunlight, the warmth and curiosity of this Gentleman Pirate. This is probably the first time Ed has been intrigued by something/someone in years and he is getting a sunny disposition at the idea of this newness. Ed faces the outside, the sunlight not the darkness of his cabin and the meek lighting candles offer.

While candles don't necessarily represent piracy/Blackbeard and the sunlight as Stede and a new life, they do offer two different types of lighting. Two different effects, two different paths Ed can take, what he wants and what he has. The limited light of a candle not even in a spot that can be utilized versus the beams of sun that offers a larger potential.

[achilles-rage]

you guys this is so self indulgent and different than what i usually write but it had to be done and i blame my current cod hyperfixation for this<3

imagine your boyfriend rocker chasing you through the woods😵‍💫

you feel like your heart is about to beat out of your chest as you race through the trees, hearing nothing but the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears and the snaps of twigs under your bare feet. your path is illuminated only by the almost-full moon, and while you’re thankful for the soft light that allows you to see where you’re going, you also know that it means he can see you as well.

you know he’s a better runner than you are; you’ve never been very quick, but the adrenaline pumping through your body allows you to keep running through the night. the bottom of your feet are sore, and you feel the stray branches slice against your bare legs as you run deeper into the woods, but you don’t stop.

“i’m gonna find you, sweetheart. there’s no point in running.” his voice echoes through the warm breeze and into your ears. you look behind you, trying to see if he’s finally found you, but you don’t see him. once you turn back around, you hear his heavy footsteps not too far from where you are, and you have to fight back a noise of both fear and excitement.

it’s always been a fantasy of yours; to be chased through the woods like prey. you’re not sure what it is about the idea, but it makes desire course through you and your skin erupt in goosebumps. rocker had found out one day when you were reading a book in bed. he saw how enthralled you were with the chapter you were currently reading, how your thighs squeezed together every so often, so he decided to pick up the book the next morning when you were getting ready for work. 

he was intrigued by the idea, and he sort of liked the idea of having to catch you in order to have his way with you, so he approached you one day and asked you about it. you were embarrassed at first, but once he had finally calmed you down and told you that he was interested, you let your guard down and agreed to let him chase you through the woods on his family’s property. he had told his parents that you two were just going camping for the weekend, and it was far enough from the house that no one would know the difference anyway.

you finally duck behind a tree, breathing heavily as you press your back tightly against the trunk. you’re only wearing a short nightdress, and the thin white fabric isn’t doing much to protect your soft skin from the harsh tree bark, but you kept your back firmly in place as if you’ll sink right into the tree and your hiding place will not be found by him.

you hear his footsteps get closer, his loud pants being carried through the air, making you shiver. you can hear the branches snapping under his boots, and you bite your lip in an attempt to quiet your breathing. you think about the harsh contrast of his tight t-shirt, cargo pants, and boots versus your flimsy white nightdress and you feel your desire pooling between your legs. at this moment, you’re not sure if you’d rather be caught or keep running, chasing the adrenaline high you’re feeling.

“i thought you’d be better than this, sweetheart. i’m getting close, aren’t i? i can hear your breathing.” he teases in a dark tone, slowing his pace as he gets closer to the sound of your breaths to quiet his steps. you put a hand over your mouth to stifle your breathing, your lungs burning as you struggle to give them some much needed air. you also feel your inner thighs starting to burn, having nothing to stop the chafing between your thick thighs, but the pain almost fades to nothing as you feel your arousal soaking through your panties.

you’re so focused on slowing your breathing that you barely hear him round the tree and grab your wide hips, holding you against the tree with a low growl before you have time to react.

“i’ve caught my prey. now you know what i get to do?” he purrs, his face just inches from yours. you look up at him with wide eyes, still breathing heavily as he presses himself against you. 

“what?” you get out, whimpering softly as you feel him roll his hips against yours ever so slightly, his hardening length pushing against your soft tummy. he smirks at your innocent little answer, leaning down further to whisper in your ear.

“whatever i want, princess. you get to be my pretty little toy.” he whispers before nibbling at your ear gently. you tilt your head back instinctively, letting out a shaky breath.

“you like the sound of that, sweetheart? you like the idea of being my little toy? being used by me?” you whimper at his words, arching your back into him as you nod eagerly.

“please.” you whisper, your voice barely audible. he smirks down at you darkly, one hand reaching up to run down your cheek.

“you want me to use you, pretty girl? is that what you want?” you nod again, whimpering as you try to move your hips against his, desperate for friction against your dripping core. he hums softly at your reaction, putting his hand back on your hip and tightening his grip, stopping you from moving against him.

“get on your knees, sweetheart. now.”

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[pureshadough]

crk reread - crispia 9 (contd.)

God, I hate Chili Pepper Cookie.

like i mean SERIOUSLY pure vanilla what in the war necessitated THIS

really makes you wonder what the progression of technology has looked like since this point or if the fall of the kingdom brought some amount of stagnation with it. ffxiv allagan empire vibes a little bit

not that i can really convey it over text of course but this thing has FANTASTIC sound design in all of the cutscenes by the way. really imposing and mechanized in a way that sells its scale

this entire argument is SUCH a good character moment for both of them but especially pure vanilla, it really forces him to confront and weigh his "status quo" values to his newer gut instincts and risky ambitions - all by way of arguing with his closest friend, no less

neither one of them is really Wrong for taking up the angle they do here (especially understanding black raisin as a character thats likely VERY traumatized and defined by what she's Lost over the years), but it nevertheless draws the line on where their paths HAVE to diverge for the good of earthbread. this is the point where the writing properly starts to demand the players attention, i think. a brief period of narrative lucidity before i have to go back to watching chili pepper say the same two sentences over and over again

fantastic cutscene thumbnail

now i don't personally think that the light of truth is Actually shadow milk at this point in the story (given the timing and how shmilk's beast yeast arc is defined by just how much he Lies about his involvement in pv's life versus how far reaching his influence actually is), but reframing these scenes to reflect that idea regardless of the canonicity is CRAZY. it gives these exchanges this new Sting to them.

like here it COMPLETELY alters the tone of LoT away from being a spectator nudging someone along the right path by way of tough love to instead be shadow milk being Just The Fucking Worst, and i wholeheartedly adore both interpretations because of it

this illustration is so evocative. The moon looming behind him as the weight of both dark enchantress' destruction and his own actions rest upon his shoulders... a benevolent leader with his arms outstretched to only the birds picking at scraps... one of my favorites so far

you ever think about just how many of his mortal friends died both during and after the war? Yeah

oomf in call watching me stream these cutscenes: heal THIS

this entire set of interactions is really funny. crepe meets a cute girl and just wants to study her like a bug in a cup

Queen shit (gender neutral)

WHAT IS A CRYOBAKING POD WHAT IS A CRYOBAKING POD WHAT IS A CRYOBAKING POD DEVSIS EXPLAIN YOURSELF!!!!

D. Does this not also contradict the notion that dark enchantress was trying to figure out where the vanilla kingdom was? She was sealed in moonstone until maybe a day ago by the way and the wafflebot attacks started "many moons ago" so When did this encounter Happen. Imagining it as a white lily figment is insanely funny because that suggests crepe just DEDUCED that DE's identity after the fact but that also doesn't work for several other reasons. Hrrrrrm.

this absolute wet cat

there is SO MUCH happening here and yet somehow I have managed to come out of this chapter with more questions than I did going into it! Incredible! Gotta love it /gen. I really did forget just how fast and loose the vanilla kingdom's lore gets if you try to examine it too closely but I'm honestly kind of just having fun filling the gaps myself knowing that they probably weren't thinking about it nearly as hard as I am now. this goofy ass video game. 10 might do a better job of filling some of these gaps given I know there's some details in this mix im probably Definitely misremembering but we'll just have to see

[nimuetheseawitch]

SGA Summer Vacation Recs

So, a few weeks ago, a friend asked for longfic recommendations to read while on vacation, and I did not really realize how many I was recommending at the time. Seemed like a good idea to make a post about it.

Time in a Bottle by astolat, 14K (not originally on my list because it was too short, but it's too perfect for a summer reading list, so I added it), McShep, Rated E, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings To see a World in a Grain of Sand / And a Heaven in a Wild Flower / Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand / And Eternity in an hour.

The Long Dark (series) by @logicgunn, 141K, McShep, Rated G-E but the first is M, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings An astronomical event causes two strangers to crash land on a remote island in the frozen Canadian north. Cue a fluffy slow burn in a survival setting.

Lord John Sheppard Versus Earth by LitGal, 61K, McShep, Rated M, Graphic Depictions of Violence Canon diverged before Jackson found Atlantis. The IOC stepped in and decided to make things more efficient. A gene testing program brought Major John Sheppard into the program earlier, but budget constraints and international treaties have kept Dr. Jackson out of the antarctic. So now John has to find his own team--and his own geek--or he's in danger of being stuck in the mountain forever as a light switch. However, as the universe changes, fate forces some things to return to proper form, and other things… they get wildly out of control. John isn't sure how he came to be Earth's enemy, but he's going to have to deal with the cards he's dealt.

Teamwork by onthewaters, 24K, McShep and others, Rated E, Graphic Depictions of Violence There is an Earth where things have turned out a little differently, and the people who go to Atlantis aren't quite the ones we know. AKA The one where Rodney is a Mountie.

The Doctor and the Sheppard by @hero-in-waiting, 70K, McShep, Rated E They've been in Pegasus for a year before Rodney is finally allowed to go off-world to meet with the mysterious leader of a group of allies against the wraith. The first meeting goes well, sending them down a path none of them could've foreseen, and leaving Rodney with thoughts of the mysterious leader with his bright eyes and dark hair.

The Hard Prayer by Rheanna, 30K, McShep, Rated M One year after the end of the world, John meets another survivor.

In Sickness and in Health by @a-storm-of-roses, 31K, McShep, Rated E "So I told a little lie, just to get you back to Atlantis. It was the only way, so try not to get too mad. I told them we were married.” When John suffers a major, life-changing injury on Earth, Rodney must pretend to be his husband to ensure his return to Atlantis. As he struggles to navigate recovery and accept his new reality, John must also come to terms with his new role as Rodney's husband and the new dynamics in their relationship. A story of healing, recovery, loss, love, and acceptance.

Enigma by sgamadison, McShep, 32K, McShep, Rated E, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings During an off-world mission, a piece of Ancient technology transports Rodney and John on a one-way trip to a deserted airfield. Working together to get back, it takes a vivid dream to make Rodney realize what's been in front of him all along.

Bridges by bussaiko, 52K, McShep, Rated E Engineer Rodney McKay went to North Carolina's Crystal Coast to help his sister design a series of bridges. He hoped to rebuild his career following a professional disaster; he didn't expect to be drawn into the small community of Athos Island, where he found friendship and perhaps something more with helicopter pilot John Sheppard. But when Rodney tries to learn more about John's past, what he discovers might tear them apart. (non-Stargate AU)

Apocalypse Rising by sian1359, 81K, McShep, Rated M, Graphic Depictions of Violence The Goa'uld are not the only ones who covet Earth.

Zen and the Art of Jumper Maintenance by Indybaggins, 39K, McShep, Rated M The one where Rodney gets sucked in and John… follows. Featuring a quirky John, Rodney in orange robes, crazy Ancient-worship, sheep milking and jumpers that aren't broken but need to be fixed anyway.

Black Helicopters (series) by whizzy, 141K, McShep, Rated T-E but the first is M, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Screw the bet. Rodney was going to prove the existence of extraterrestrial intelligence. Oh, and incidentally, he might just catch the United States Air Force with their pants around their ankles.

Pegasus Purgatorio by MrsHamill, 127K, McShep, Rated E, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings It is difficult to write a paradise when all the superficial indications are that you ought to write an apocalypse. It is obviously much easier to find inhabitants for an inferno or even a purgatorio. (Ezra Pound) Yeah, I'd say that about covers it, Ezra. John and Rodney are left behind when Atlantis (and, by extension, Pegasus) is evacuated. While returning to the Milky Way, they decide to bring a few friends along.

What A Wonderful Bunker You Would Make by ocdindeed, 50K, McShep, Rated M Summary in simple words: Rodney is recluse and John has a kid. Summary in not so simple words: Rodney McKay has given up on the world, living a simple life up on a mountain devoid of people. He likes it that way, at least he did until a kid with a full head of dark hair ambled up his dirt driveway and changed his sequestered life forever. (AU - Set during SG1 & Pre-SGA timeline.)

G******, Tramps, and Thieves* (series) by auburn, 372K, McShep and a whole lot more, Rated T-M, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, later fics Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Vala Mal Doran and her partners, renegades Jehan abd-Ba'al and Meredith McKay, hijack the Tau'ri ship Prometheus and leave the Milky Way behind in search of the Lost City of the Ancients, Atlantis.

*I censored this title due to a common racial slur

[anneangel]

Javert is as tragic as the title of the book suggests, a miserable.

He may even be the main antagonist, in the sense of opposing the centric character (Jean Valjean), but he is certainly not a villain.

He is obsessed with fulfilling his duty and in a tireless pursuit of justice. He does not believe in Jean Valjean's redemption and his obsession with persecuting him is related to his rigid worldview based on his personal experience and inflexible principles, related to his past, where he was born into a dysfunctional family. He firmly believes in the idea that a bad person is bad forever. He sees his role as Inspector as a fight against crime and injustice.

He doesn't pursue Jean Valjean because he's a villain, he pursues him because he believes Jean is a criminal, who violated his parole, and therefore deserves to be sent back to the prison system.

He was just a man who believed he was doing the right thing, following the law. He believed that people chose to be miserable and that they got what they deserved for choosing to be "vagabonds." He looked at himself and took pleasure in thinking; I came from a dysfunctional home and I still do what is right, so if others don't do it, it's because they don't want to and will never change.

But then he finds himself at a crossroads after Jean Valjean spares his life: "the law says I must arrest this man. But my conscience says I owe him a life debt."

For the first time he contemplates that "law" and "justice" do not always go together. It would be "legal under the law" to arrest Jean, but it would not be "morally just". It's a conflict between legality versus morality.

So poor Javert still faces the deconstruction of his beliefs: “he thought that good and evil were very different things and that an ex-convict could only be bad while a police officer could only be good”, when he realizes that reality not obeys that extreme and that a prisoner can be good (or that it is possible to change and become good), just as a law enforcement officer can become corrupt.

Faced with so many things that he firmly believed falling apart, showing erroneous beliefs of live, he chooses to kill himself rather than live with such unrest. So, basically he commits suicide because he was saved by Jean Valjean, and he couldn't stand that fact.

It really must have been scary to discover that he has spent his life following beliefs that suddenly deteriorate in front of him. It's sad that in the face of this "scare" he chose to kill himself.

The character promotes a very pertinent reflection, and leads us to reconsider the way we look at people who are typically stigmatized by society. Victor Hugo is never trying to say that bad people are good deep down, nothing like that; After all, there is the character Mr. Thénardier to prove this. What he is saying is that we cannot make it an absolute rule that all people who commit crimes were and will be bad forever. Because by establishing that they are, a stigma is created that can be unfair for those who, like Jean, tried to change their lives.

It is also necessary to remember that at no point does Hugo say that Jean Valjen was right in stealing the bread, but rather that the penalty imposed on him was disproportionate to the crime committed. In the end, we read that Javert kills himself because he cannot bear the idea that Jean, an ex-prisoner, can go from darkness to light. While he, by following the law, committed an injustice.

He thinks that Jean, even though he was a former prisoner, managed to go to a place above him morally, while he, who was such an inflexible agent of the law, saw himself as someone tough who didn't understand the factor of redemption as an element capable of rescue the soul of someone who once made a mistake.

Honestly, I like the character and understand the powerful reflection he brings to us. But at the same time, I'm sad that he killed himself. He could have chosen other paths, but ultimately he was so desolate that he saw no other options.

[d-z20]

The Ballad of Agatha Harkness Chapter 13

Summary: The time has come for Rio to face the music and tell Agatha who she really is.

Warnings: angst with a happy endning (they finally admit they love each other!!)

Words: 2.6k

A/N: This one is a little emotional but I promise there's a happy ending!!

AO3 link | Master List

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The Confession of Death

The air in the cottage hung heavy with stillness, the faint scent of smouldering wood lingering in the hearth. Moonlight filtered through the small window, casting silver streaks across Agatha’s face as she slept. Curled beneath the patchwork quilt, her chest rose and fell in an unhurried rhythm, her usually sharp features softened by the veil of sleep.

Rio stood by the doorway, leaning against the frame with an expression that no one—least of all herself—would have expected. Her usual sardonic grin was nowhere to be found. Instead, her dark eyes traced every line of Agatha’s face, their depths filled with something dangerously close to reverence. Her fingers tightened around the edge of her cloak, knuckles whitening. She had faced countless battles, countless endings, and yet none of them terrified her the way this moment did.

“I long to tell you,” she whispered into the darkness, her voice barely audible over the crackle of the dying fire. “But what if you don’t want me anymore?”

The words felt foreign, almost laughable on her tongue, but the fear was real—too real. For someone who had spent lifetimes indifferent to human connections, the weight of this singular bond was crushing. She pushed off the doorway, pacing soundlessly across the room, her thoughts tangling with every step.

Rio knew that this couldn’t go on, this precarious balance of secrets and stolen moments. Agatha deserved to know the truth about her. But what if that truth shattered everything? What if, after all this time, the woman who looked at her with such fierce intensity, who teased and challenged her at every turn, suddenly saw her as something monstrous?

—

As dawn crept into the sky, Rio slipped out of the cottage, needing space to think. The air was crisp, the faint tang of dew settling on her skin as she wandered down the familiar path. Behind her, the cottage stood silent, a haven that now felt like it was closing in on her. She couldn’t stay—not with the weight of her truth pressing so heavily on her chest.

The nearby village was quiet, the world still heavy with sleep. Rio walked without direction, her feet carrying her over cobblestone and grass, her thoughts replaying moments she both cherished and feared. Agatha’s laughter echoed in her mind, sharp and unrestrained as they’d argued over the merits of wine versus mead. It wasn’t the memory itself that haunted her, but the realisation that every laugh, every quirk of Agatha’s lips, could be snuffed out the moment Rio revealed who she truly was.

Her pace slowed as her eyes turned toward the riverbank, the same place where so many of their shared memories had taken root. The dark water shimmered faintly, catching the pale light of the rising sun. She stopped, staring into its ripples as if they might hold an answer she was too afraid to voice. She could still hear Agatha’s voice from that day—teasing, coaxing her to step into the cold water despite her grumbled protests.

“I’m not getting in there,” Rio had said, crossing her arms as she leaned against a tree.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Agatha had shot back, her tone carrying that infuriating mix of mockery and affection. She’d waded in with all the confidence in the world, water swishing around her calves. “Come on, Rio, what’s the worst that could happen? You melt?”

Rio had eventually relented, her reluctance fading in the face of Agatha’s relentless enthusiasm. That day had been easy. Simple. Agatha had splashed her, her wild curls dripping water as she laughed like she hadn’t a care in the world. That laugh—that genuine, unguarded joy—had lodged itself deep in Rio’s chest. Even now, the memory of it tightened something inside her, an ache that was both sweet and unbearable.

Rio sank onto a fallen log near the river’s edge, elbows resting on her knees as she raked her fingers through her hair. She couldn’t go back to what she’d been before Agatha—distant, untouchable, a mere shadow of existence. For so long, she’d been nothing more than a name whispered in fear, a force that ended things but never began them. She’d always accepted it, even embraced it, because it was easier to be alone when no one wanted you anyway.

But Agatha wanted her.

It didn’t make sense—none of it did. Everyone else always hated her, reviled her, cursed her name as their final breaths left their bodies. But Agatha? No, she was different. When Rio walked into her life, her eyes didn’t fill with fear or anger. Instead, they lit up. Her smile widened, her voice softened, and her embrace felt like warmth Rio had long forgotten was possible.

And now, Rio had to destroy it.

Her hands clenched into fists, nails biting into her palms. She had always been the end of things—an inevitability no one could love. If she stayed, if she let herself believe in the fragile beauty of what they had, she would only taint it. And yet, the thought of leaving was unbearable, a hollowing out of something she didn’t know she had until Agatha had filled it.

Rio stared at the river, her reflection rippling across the surface, fragmented and distorted. Wasn’t that all she was? A distortion of life, a shadow in its wake? She had spent centuries perfecting the art of not caring. And now, in the face of Agatha’s laughter, her stubbornness, her maddeningly beautiful way of seeing the world... she cared too much.

The sun rose higher, its golden light casting long shadows over the still village. But Rio felt no warmth from it, only the cold certainty that she was on borrowed time.

She buried her face in her hands, the weight of her turmoil threatening to crush her. For the first time in lifetimes, she wanted to stay. But how could she, when staying would mean breaking the one thing that had ever truly made her feel alive?

—

By the time she returned to the cottage, dusk had fallen, painting the sky in shades of purple and gold. Agatha was waiting, her arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe. Her eyes tracked Rio as she approached, sharp and knowing.

“You’ve been gone all day,” Agatha said evenly, though her tone hinted at the irritation she’d likely been nursing.

Rio offered a crooked grin, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Needed to stretch my legs. You know how restless I get.”

Agatha stepped aside to let her in, but her gaze lingered, studying Rio with a scrutiny that made her want to bolt. Instead, Rio busied herself with the hearth, stirring the fire back to life as though she could avoid the weight of Agatha’s attention.

“Rio,” Agatha said after a moment, her voice softer now, but no less direct. “What’s going on? Where do you disappear to??”

The question hung in the air, heavy and expectant. Rio laughed—too loud, too sharp—turning to face her. “What, can’t a girl have a brooding walk through the woods without being interrogated?”

Agatha’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t play coy with me. I’d prefer you just spit it out.”

Rio hesitated, the mask slipping for a brief moment. She opened her mouth, the confession bubbling at the back of her throat, but the words caught, stuck behind the lump of fear that threatened to choke her. “It’s nothing,” she said finally, her voice strained. “Just… things on my mind.”

—

Later that night, the fire burned low, and the shadows stretched long, flickering across the small cottage with a restless energy. Agatha was seated in her chair, a book balanced on her lap, though she hadn’t turned a page in several minutes. Her gaze shifted occasionally to Rio, who stood across the room, her back turned, seemingly lost in thought. The tension was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words.

Agatha finally broke the silence, her tone sharp but edged with concern. “Alright, enough of this. You’ve been acting strange all day, and frankly, I’m tired of the guessing games. If it has anything to do with where you disappear to so often, now’s the time to say it.”

Rio stiffened but didn’t turn around. Instead, she let out a short, humourless laugh, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. “What’s the point in asking questions you don’t want the answers to?” she replied, her voice low and guarded.

Agatha closed the book with a decisive snap, rising to her feet. “Stop deflecting, Rio,” she demanded, stepping closer. “Something’s eating at you. If you think I don’t notice, you’re more of a fool than I thought.”

Rio turned sharply, her eyes blazing. “You think you want to know, but you don’t, Agatha. Trust me.”

“Don’t tell me what I want,” Agatha shot back, her voice rising. “You’ve built walls so high you can barely see over them yourself! Why don’t you stop running and let me in for once?”

The argument escalated, both women’s voices ricocheting off the walls of the small room. Rio’s demeanour flipped between nonchalant, erratic, and painfully needy, her usual confidence unraveling.

“You think I’m just running?” Rio shouted, her voice cracking with the weight of her words. “Maybe I am! Maybe that’s all I’ve ever done because staying means watching everything you care about fall apart!” She spun away, her hands raking through her hair as if trying to ground herself.

Agatha’s gaze softened, but her determination remained firm. “You’re not running now, are you?” she said quietly. “So stop pretending like you don’t care. I see through it.”

Rio froze at that, her back still to Agatha. When she finally turned, her expression was a warzone—panic and defiance battling for dominance. Her lips quirked into a shaky smile, but her eyes betrayed her, shimmering with unshed tears.

“You wanted to know why I keep disappearing?” she said, her voice uneven, a thin layer of dark humour coating her words. “Well, darling, I’m out reaping souls. I’m not just a green witch, I’m the green witch. I’m Death, sweetheart. Surprised?”

Rio’s hands trembled, and she clasped them tightly behind her back, as if restraining herself from reaching out to Agatha. Her voice, usually dripping with sardonic humour, cracked at the edges. “I’ve seen it before, you know,” she added softly, her gaze dropping to the floor. “That moment when someone realises what I am. The way their face changes. Fear. Loathing. Sometimes they’re polite enough to pretend, but it’s always there, that flicker of revulsion. And I couldn’t bear to see it on your face. Not yours.” She blinked rapidly, swallowing hard.

The confession hung in the air like a storm cloud, the weight of it pressing down on the room. Rio’s eyes welled up, and her voice cracked as she continued. “And now you know. So go ahead, Agatha. Say it. Say you don’t want me here anymore.”

For a moment, Agatha didn’t speak. Her sharp features softened as she absorbed the words. Rio could almost see the thoughts racing behind her dark eyes, and it was torture—she’s going to send me away, she has to send me away.

Instead of horror, a slow smirk crept across Agatha’s lips, the edges of her mouth twitching as though she were holding back laughter. “You’re telling me I’m sleeping with Death?” she said finally, her tone wry. “Well, that explains why you’re so relentless.”

For a moment, Rio’s expression faltered, caught between disbelief and heartbreak. “You think this is funny?” she said, her voice rising in frustration. “This isn’t a joke, Agatha. I’m telling you to your face that I’m everything people fear—the shadow in the corner, the end they can’t escape. And you’re standing there smirking like it’s a fucking game!”

Rio turned away, gripping the edge of the mantle so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Remember the river? The way you laughed when I refused to step into the water, calling me a coward?” She huffed a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “I’m not afraid of water, Agatha. I was afraid of losing that moment, that laugh—of you seeing through me. For centuries, I’ve been everything people run from, and I didn’t want to ruin the one time I felt... alive.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling as if willing the tears to stay where they were. “I just wanted to stay in that moment with you.”

Agatha stepped closer, her voice losing its teasing lilt as she continued. “Do you really think I’d turn you away? I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. Like I’m something precious. How could I ever hate you for something you never chose? For something that makes you… you?” She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against Rio’s hand, though Rio flinched at the touch. “You’ve never given me reason to fear you, Rio. Not once. If anything, I’m more terrified of the idea of losing you than I ever could be of who you are.”

“Stop it,” Rio said, her voice trembling. “Stop pretending. You’re just… you’re lying, or—” She faltered, her emotions spilling over. “Don’t mess with me, Agatha. I can’t cope with that.”

Agatha’s expression softened, though her voice remained steady. She reached out again, this time gripping Rio’s face firmly in her hands, forcing her to meet her gaze. “I want you, Rio,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I want you here. I want you to stay. I want you. All of you. Let me to see you as you have seen me: whole and unashamed.”

Rio’s shoulders sagged as if the weight of a thousand lifetimes had finally slipped free. She met Agatha’s gaze, searching for even a glimmer of doubt, but all she found was steadfast certainty. Her lips trembled as a tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek. “I’ve spent so long convincing myself I didn’t need anyone,” she whispered. “But you... you make me wish I could stay. You make me want to be more than this.” She gestured at herself, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. “More than just an ending.”

Agatha reached up, cupping Rio’s face with both hands. “You’re not just an ending,” she said firmly. “You’re my beginning. My middle. And I’ll fight you on it if you say otherwise.”

The seriousness of her words broke something in Rio, and she could no longer hold back her tears. “But why?” she asked weakly, her voice raw with emotion. “Why do you want me?”

Agatha’s eyes shone with an intensity that made Rio’s knees nearly buckle. “Because I love you,” she said firmly, her voice carrying the weight of unshakable conviction. “I don’t care who you are. You are mine, and I love you,” she repeated, her voice breaking just slightly on the last word.

The intensity of the moment shattered the tension like glass. Rio surged forward, capturing Agatha’s lips in a kiss that was both a question and an answer. It was messy and desperate, their emotions spilling out in every movement. They clung to each other as if the world outside the walls of the cottage had ceased to exist.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads resting together, Rio let out a shaky laugh. “You’re insane, you know that?”

Agatha smiled, her fingers brushing against Rio’s cheek. “And you love it.”

Rio laughed again, the sound lighter this time, filled with something that felt dangerously close to hope. She pulled back just enough to look into Agatha’s eyes, her voice soft but steady. “I love you, Agatha,” she said, the words carrying the weight of centuries’ worth of longing.

Agatha’s smile widened, her fingers lacing through Rio’s. “Good. Because you’re not getting rid of me now.”

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I told you there'd be a happy ending :)

[intermundia]

hey will um- any thoughts on feyd-rautha and paul’s dynamic? not even necessarily from a shipping pov. i just feel like you’ll have some juicy insights lol

I don’t have anything really new to say that hasn’t been said, but it IS fascinating to me that Paul and Feyd-Rautha were supposed to be married, with thousands of years of Bene Gesserit design to create these two ideal parents for the chosen one, but Paul’s divergent masculinity broke that union and made them into antagonists. They’re foils, like the way you place a gem on metal to make it shine brighter, yet the light that Feyd-Rautha shines on Paul illuminates Paul's dark side, rendering his negative self visible, warning about it and exemplifying it.

In the sense that Paul was raised in a culture of honor, and yet chose exploitation, Feyd-Rautha was raised in a culture of exploitation, and chose honor. He contained that unexpected virtue, not enough to redeem him, but enough to cast light on the honor that Paul discarded. When Paul says “so this is how we’ll survive, by being Harkonnens,” the audience knows with dread what part of Paul’s essential personhood that he will be leaning into, the cruelty and exploitation of others, the wanton violence, the selfish ambition.

Also it’s fascinating that unlike Feyd-Rautha, Paul is NOT sexually vulnerable; he’s simply not available to be manipulated through sex, he does the manipulating. He resists Irulan’s seduction entirely, and doesn’t give any real power to Chani. He indulges in sex because he feels love and desire, and he maintains control in the realm of sexuality over Irulan, whose life path is controlled by the fact that he denies her children. If he had been the wife of Feyd-Rautha, he would’ve been able to gain and keep power in the relationship using sexuality and children as a tool.

Feyd-Rautha, despite being a psychopathic power hungry dominant force in much of his life, still would’ve bent to Paul-as-lover, Paul-as-giver-of-intimate-pain. Feyd-Rautha was born to be a sire for Paul's child, born to serve as stud for a powerful woman to create the one. It’s an inherently complementary role, a dependent one. Once they took his seed, and once they established sexual control over him, he would be theirs to use or discard. He’s a tool and a weapon, where Paul should’ve been the sacred vessel, the ultimate woman and mother.

I also deeply appreciate the design choices that Villneuve made that diverge from the written text in a way to visually communicate important personality and ideological information. They are equal-and-opposite visually as well as narratively. Seeing that final duel, Feyd-Rautha is bleached of all natural color, hairless and clean, his shiny black armor tells the story of an industrial culture, versus Paul in sandy brown, natural cloth with a natural blade, coming from the people who lived on the land, in balance and sync with the land, and against those who steal and exploit the land.

It's an archetypal clash of civilizations, embodied in these two young men fighting to the death. They just look like a matched set, opposites that synthesize a thesis of Atreides and antithesis of Harkonnen into a higher being, that should have been their child. The fact that they fought to the death instead of generating life is a bad sign for the galaxy—not that their child necessarily would have been the one to lead into a better future, but Paul killed billions. Jessica's usurpation of Paul's motherhood of the one disrupted that plan, and Paul's masculinity and sexual independence led to a disaster.

[gffa]

STAR WARS CONTENT CHECK IN TIME. Congratulate me, for I have officially completed all of Phases I and II's comics and books! I think Young Jedi Adventures probably falls into Phase I, but I just haven't had time to put it on in the background while doing other things, as I was on a roll with the books and comics. I'll be a little sad when I have nothing left to binge with all this stuff, but I'm also looking forward to having time and space for idk getting back to the Lockwood books, finishing the ORV novel, or hell maybe even have time to read a fic???? MAIN STORYLINE NOVELS - PHASE I:

The High Republic: Light of the Jedi

The High Republic: A Test of Courage

The High Republic: Into the Dark

The High Republic: The Rising Storm

The High Republic: Race To Crashpoint Tower

The High Republic: Out Of The Shadows

The High Republic: Mission to Disaster

The High Republic: The Fallen Star

The High Republic: Midnight Horizon

MAIN STORYLINE NOVELS - PHASE II:

The High Republic: Path of Deceit

The High Republic: Convergence

The High Republic: Quest for the Hidden City

The High Republic: Cataclysm

The High Republic: Quest for Planet X

The High Republic: Path of Vengeance

MAIN STORYLINE NOVELS - PHASE III:

The High Republic: The Eye of Darkness

The High Republic: Escape from Valo

The High Republic: Defy The Storm

MAIN STORYLINE COMICS - PHASE I:

The High Republic (2021) - 15 issues

The High Republic Adventures (2021) - 13 issues

The High Republic: The Monster of Temple Peak - 4 issues

The High Republic: The Edge Of Balance - 2 manga volumes

The High Republic: Trail of Shadows - 5 issues

The High Republic: Eye of the Storm - 2 issues

MAIN STORYLINE COMICS - PHASE II:

The High Republic: The Blade - 4 issues

The High Republic (2022) - 10 issues

The High Republic Adventures (2022) - 8 issues

The High Republic: Edge of Balance: Precedent - 1 manga volume

The High Republic Adventures: The Nameless Terror - 4 issues

MAIN STORYLINE COMICS - PHASE III:

The High Republic: Shadows of Starlight - 4 issues

The High Republic (2023) - 6 issues [ONGOING]

The High Republic Adventures (2023) - 5 issues [ONGOING]

The High Republic - Saber for Hire (2023) - 1 issue [ONGOING]

MAIN STORYLINE AUDIODRAMAS - PHASE I:

The High Republic: Tempest Runner

MAIN STORYLINE AUDIODRAMAS - PHASE II:

The High Republic: The Battle of Jedha

ONESHOT COMIC ISSUES - PHASE I:

Star Wars Adventures (2020) #6 - “The Gaze Electric”

The High Republic Adventures: Free Comic Book Day 2021

The High Republic Adventures Annual 2021

The High Republic Adventures: Galactic Bake-Off Spectacular

Star Wars Adventures (2020) #14 - “A Very Nihil Interlude”

The High Republic Adventures: Free Comic Book Day 2023

ONESHOT COMIC ISSUES - PHASE II:

The High Republic Adventures: Quest of the Jedi

ONESHOT COMIC ISSUES - PHASE III:

The High Republic Adventures: Crash Landing

ANTHOLOGY NOVELS - PHASE I:

Star Wars: The High Republic: Starlight Stories

Life Day Treasury

ANTHOLOGY NOVELS - PHASE II:

Star Wars Insider: The High Republic: Tales of Enlightenment

ANTHOLOGY NOVELS - ALL PHASES:

The High Republic: Tales of Light and Life

EVERYTHING ELSE:

Star Wars: Young Jedi Adventures - 25 episodes

I really enjoyed The Eye of Darkness, once again each book that starts out the era is a real banger that has a lot of impact for me, I think this is probably my favorite book for Marchion Ro so far, a character who has felt a little too inscrutable for me up to this point. He could have easily fell into the role of saying he wants to "govern" people but really wants to rule with an iron fist, but nah that guy straight up doesn't want to fit into Republic-style politics or machinations, he just wants to do what he wants to do, this whole thing is about his ego/entitlement complex, in a lot of ways. His dynamic with Ghirra Starros was one I actively looked forward to, because so much of this plot was shaped by feeling like it was a palette swap of the Republic versus the Separatists, that on the surface it was being framed as seceding from the Republic, but really it was occupation. But I felt like this book helped shake off some of that, where they went in a direction where instead this guy is just The Strong Shall Prevail And I'm Strong So I'll Do What I Want and Marchion genuinely sticks to that. It doesn't matter what Ghirra could win for him via politics, he doesn't want that. He's starting to spin out and he clearly doesn't have a real plan, he just wants to fuck things up, but I found that really refreshingly fun here. (I think the way Marc Thompson reads him contributed a lot to that, too. He nicely captures the unhinged aspect of Marchion.) I enjoyed Avar's story a lot, how conflicted she felt and how badly that was affecting her connection to the Force. I hope that this isn't where her difficulty with her internal struggle ends, because The High Republic 2021 comic really had some great moments about how she was having trouble letting go of her anger and fear, and it's not that I want her to nearly fall to the dark side, but that I want the resolution to extend a bit beyond that the Force feels clear and coherent to her again. And It was nice seeing Bell's internal thoughts again, giving him time to work through his feelings, as he stumbles a bit and eventually manages to right himself. I wish Burryaga had gotten some character development, he was just kind of there to be a prop in Bell's story, but given that I love Bell so much, I'm not really mad about that. I'm also about a fifth of the way through Escape from Valo and it's about what I expected from the authors and that it's a junior novel, but I'm enjoying it! I enjoyed the comics, "The Monster of Temple Peak" and "The Nameless Terror" (the art is SO PRETTY), they're fun adventures, but I do wonder a bit of there's bigger plans for Ty Yorrick in Phase III, given how much she's consistently been around, but hasn't yet done a ton of intersecting with the main plot. Or is she just there because she's fun to write and they're trying to make this a big clockwork puzzle tapestry by including characters who are part of the story, just not the main story? I'd love to know what other people thought of any of this! And you should all tell me what you're reading/watching/playing right now, because I want to know how your Star Wars journeys are going!

[jazaesis]

Idalia thrived in the role of a Jedi Master. What she loved most about being a Master was the opportunity to guide the development of her Padawans, providing them with a structured path to harnessing their abilities and guiding them in understanding their roles within the broader context of the Jedi Order and the galaxy.

She was also keen on teaching them not just how to wield the Force, but to understand its implications and the responsibility it entailed. This included engaging in detailed discussions about the Jedi Code, the philosophy of the Light versus the Dark Side, and how to face moral dilemmas.

[mechanicalflowergarden]

Alright since people seemed curious, here's a rundown of the headcanoned lore behind my recent piece.

Keep in mind, not everything here will line up with the way the KH lore works. This is just something a friend and I discussed for fun :)

ALSO SPOILERS!!

===

In this story, Yozora stumbles upon Strelitzia in the Final World, unconscious and injured. He takes her with him back to Quadratum, patches her up and offers her a place to stay.

The two end up becoming friends which my friend and I described as, "Sunshine & Sunshine protector (who has an attitude problem)".

We also came up with the headcanon that Yozora is UX Player's 3rd Reincarnation (tho both are unaware of it). I have not seen them the same since.

Now that's the basic backstory my friend and I came up with which we used in a DnD-like VRChat RP about an alternate ending to KH3 where Xehanort won and is taking over other worlds. Characters from KH & FF band together to protect the worlds and defeat Xehanort.

Now Yozora's relationship with the group is kind of iffy. He's hard to read and he tends to isolate himself, and some characters don't like that about him. They don't understand his intentions, and even when they do, they're quick to be against him.

Some of this behavior is inspired from Noctis, specifically from Versus XIII. Noctis' Versus XIII VA mentioned that Noctis was originally meant to be a much darker character before they changed him for XV.

Strelitzia knows Yozora isn't a bad person, after all he took her in and cared for her. She sees the good in him and accepts the bad parts too. Nobody could ever convince her to stay away from him. And in turn, she's the only one Yozora will allow to be close to him.

Friend and I came up with what-if scenarios and one of them was Strelitzia falling into darkness with Yozora.

The reason why Strelitzia would be such a good candidate to fall into darkness is bc she's someone who questioned their reason for protecting the light and fighting darkness (which was hinted in UX).

She's someone who has personally seen what darkness can do to someone, but she's also seen that not every person who falls to darkness is a bad person.

Take Ventus for example. Darkness possessed him to kill her, but during the times Lauriam considers putting an end to Ventus, her soul tells him not to.

So imagine the scenario where everyone was against Yozora, believing he had to be put down. Strelitzia would never allow that to happen. She'd question why these guardians of light are able to justify this action as one of light.

And if remaining by Yozora's side means she's also fallen into darkness, then she'll gladly accept whatever titles they throw at her.

This drawing is to show the bad end of that battle where Yozora is struck down. Taking his weapon and jacket before he fades away, she strays from the path of light for it had failed her.

[shadowkoo]

The Taste of Sin

→ Summary: Following his sister's passing, Taehyung faced a daunting battle within himself, one where he eventually succumbed to the enveloping shadows that gripped his soul. Your task is to free him from the clutches of the black magic that now consumes him. The only problem? He doesn't want to be saved.

↠ taehyung x f.reader | 6.7k words | 18+ ↠ genre: angst, horror, strangers/enemies to lovers, smut, black magic au, warlock/witch au

→ Warnings: Read at your own risk! Includes scenes of abduction/kidnapping, minor and major character death & dead bodies, murder, stabbing, knives and other weapons, blood, rituals and witchcraft (duh), slight torture / exorcism-like behavior? idk how else to describe it askldjf;skljdl, illusions to scars, burning skin, unprotected sex, explicit sex, angry sex, fingering, choking, oral (female receiving), teasing, begging, rough kissing, magical fucking? (we’re making that a thing lol), deep dicking, creampie

→ Author note: Thank you so much for reading! All likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. If you would prefer to bookmark and read it later on AO3, you can find it crossposted here.

⋆˙⟡ m.list ⟡⋆⟡ ao3 ⟡⋆⟡ wips ⟡⋆⟡ updates ⟡⋆⟡ shadow realm ⟡˙⋆

Long ago, every instance of magic served a positive purpose. According to the tale, the cosmos gave rise to two mighty entities, Kai and Nyx, after many years of stagnant magic. For magic had been around for centuries by this point, but no one truly had mastered it.

When the culling eliminated many witches and warlocks, the magical line of descendants began to diminish. Kai and Nyx would become the light that the survivors could look to for guidance and protection.

They grew in unison, fostering and educating their apprentices about the complete potential magic can provide and how to harness their talents. Nyx was beloved by the people, and Kai’s gifts were powerful enough to keep them safe from those who dared to harm them.

Over time, Kai's feelings of resentment towards Nyx and his responsibility to safeguard only grew. He yearned to be worshipped. The affection that was once mutual turned into malice, and a sinister shadow wrapped around his soul. It tickled his spine, twisting around through his veins, until he let it take over and embraced the darkness within.

That was the day Black Magic was born.

In the present day, those who are gifted with magical powers are either deemed Sacred or Sinful once they’ve matured. It’s common knowledge that all witches and warlocks are originally born Sacred. Evil isn't born. We know that to be true. It's a learned behavior, created over time. However, the path someone follows in life can change everything.

It's not a matter of what side a witch chooses, but what side chooses them. And unfortunately, it's not as simple as good versus evil, light versus dark, or right versus wrong. 

It boils down to a witch's determination to defend themselves and the length their loved ones will go to in order to resurrect the person they once knew.

But black magic doesn't discriminate. It shows no concern for your family lineage, your economic status, or your future aspirations.

It's patient. 

It bides its time until your vulnerability allows you to embrace even the slightest taste before it creeps into your soul, waiting until you make the choice to devour it completely. 

At that point, you can no longer tell where the darkness ends, and a witch begins. They are now one.

So when the Kim family unexpectedly lost their sweet boy to the Sinful, they knew it would be nearly impossible to get him back.

The only way his soul can be saved is by someone who is accustomed to the taste of black magic helping to remind him of who he truly is.

"This is a photo we took on his eighteenth birthday. That was five years ago. We didn’t know it would be the last photo we would ever take of him..." Mrs. Kim hands you the photo and sniffles, a sign that she’s attempting to keep her composure.

'Please don’t cry, please don’t cry.’ you repeat to yourself. For being upper-class witches, they sure are some of the more sensitive ones. You can tell that they truly care for their estranged son.

Deep down you know that they have all the right reasons to feel this way, but your lack of certain emotions, specifically sympathy, makes it a little difficult for you to feel compassion in moments like this.

Ever since you were rescued from the darkness you've had a hard time understanding emotions and sensitivities. You don’t like either. They make you vulnerable, and vulnerability is dangerous for someone like you.

You are an exception to the rule, neither completely Sacred or Sinful. You’re a part of the Saved; a group of witches that have been brought back from the Sinful. Of course, you can never get rid of the darkness completely. It lingers in your blood, but you’ve learned to control it.

"So do you know what happened that allowed him to let the darkness in? I know that your family is one of the stronger bloodlines, so it couldn’t have been that his powers were limited. And he's not a half-blood either?"

Mr. and Mrs. Kim share a look, debating if they should disclose the reason to you.

"You're right. He was strong up until his sister died. He abandoned his powers and lost interest. We would have to plead for him to do anything remotely related to magic, and even then he put up a fight."

'That would do it. An emotional, grieving warlock that refused to use his powers would be an easy target.'

You rest your hand on Mrs. Kim's in an attempt to console her. "You know this is going to be difficult, right? He's been gone for so long. Are you sure your son is still in there?"

"I know he is. He has to be," she urges, her eyes begging for you to help them.

"Okay..." you say softly, "Were you able to track him? Where was he last?"

"On the east side of the city. We used a spell to pinpoint his exact location, and he was spotted three days ago on camera outside of this mini-mart." Mr. Kim hands you the blurry image. 

"Well, it looks like I’ve got some work to do. I’ll keep you two updated."

Taehyung gazes at the street lamps' reflection on the wet pavement. Unaware of the earlier rain, he stares at the puddles left in the wake of the storm.

His daze breaks as he catches the familiar sound of a woman's heels approaching. He closes his eyes, envisioning the woman within the shadows of his mind.

'She'll work,' he decides, watching her walk quickly in his general direction. Astral Vision is just one of the perks of turning dark. 

He waits until she’s closer, then conceals his body before she can see him lingering in the shadows outside of the bar. The spell took less than a second to manifest, and then he grabs her. One hand over her mouth and the other pushing her towards his car.

The woman is terrified, rightfully so, and Taehyung feeds on her fear. Her pale face, wide eyes, and fast pulse excite him.

He would have preferred to keep her lucid, but she wouldn’t stop screaming. Her high-pitched shrieks still echo in his ears. Thankfully, the sleeping spell he casts knocks her out, making the car ride enjoyable for the most part. 

If only there was a spell that silenced the constant whispering in his ear…

It doesn’t take long for them to arrive at his place. This part of the city was known for being the center of the dark arts, so when the woman's body trails behind him in the air, no one questions it because everyone is used to seeing some fucked up shit. Hell, last week someone set a captured spirit loose and kept walking through the walls of the old apartment building.

As they enter the dark lair, Taehyung waves his hand around and his magic carries the woman’s body to the worship room and gently lays her down on the makeshift altar table.

At the snap of his fingers, she wakes and frantically glances around at her new surroundings. A fireplace full of black flames, candlesticks everywhere she looks, pentagons and other unrecognizable sigils painted across the walls, and a mysterious man walking toward her with a devilish smile.

"Blood is old. Blood is powerful. Blood is exactly what the darkness wants." He starts chanting, making his way around her body, circling her.

"No, please!" The woman yells as she struggles against the restraints that suddenly appear from thin air. "Please. I beg you," she cries, "I have a child. She's two. *Please!*" The woman continues to sob as he lifts the knife in the air

"Shut up. This will go by faster if you just shut the hell up."

It wouldn’t matter if she was pleading as if her life depended on it. In this case, it did, but that’s irrelevant. Nor does the look in her eyes when she realizes she was going to die tonight. 

Taehyung doesn’t care. He just wants the whispering to end, and the only way to make that happen is to do what it told him.

So he did.

You listen quietly as Taehyung completes his incantation, completely drawn in by the way he handles his power. The unlit candles that fill his room all ignite when he finishes, signaling that your cover is close to being blown now that you’re no longer hidden from plain sight.

The girl notices your figure and wails out when your eyes manage to lock. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she saw you already, you weren't sure when, or how, you were going to make your presence known. 

That's how easily the darkness can get to you. You didn’t even realize when it had you paralyzed in time. And if a witch isn't aware at all times, they have a higher chance of being taken over.

"Please save me! I see you, help me!" Her shrill voice pierces through the empty room. You duck by a bookshelf and wait to see if he spots you too. 

Taehyung pauses to glance around; he doesn’t sense anyone so he closes his eyes and continues with his plan.

When you step out of the shadows she repeats herself, begging to be let go, begging for you to help her. 

You take another step closer, moving slowly while racking your brain for how you’re going to get her out of here when suddenly the dark flames quit dancing in the fireplace. Every candle in the room turns toward you and the room becomes too quiet.

Someone taps on your shoulder. Startled, you turn your head to find no one there. And when you move to face the woman again, a tall figure stands in your way.

"Who the hell are you?" Taehyung demands, a mere few inches from your position.

If you weren’t slightly concerned about what he was going to do to you next, you probably would have laughed out loud. That blade is pointless. You both know that he can do a lot more damage with his powers now that the darkness is on his side. 

Speaking of which, his other hand twists at his side and you guess he’s trying to inflict pain on you somehow.

You know this must be true when he frowns, clearly confused as to why you aren’t on the floor in crippling agony.

"Oh, yeah. That doesn't work on me babe, clearly not human." You admit rather smugly. His demeanor tenses as you close in on him. "You should really put the knife down. You don't want to accidentally hurt her, do you?"

"That's exactly what I want to do," he hisses, using his magic to send his knife flying through the air and into her chest before you can even process what’s happening. 

The second the blade touches blood, every candle in the room is extinguished.

You somehow manage to hold in your surprised gasp, despite not being ready for that.

This job isn’t for everyone. You’ve witnessed a lot of death in your short time as Saver. If it wasn’t for the good pay and the sense of accomplishment, (not to mention the high probability of making Nyx proud) there was no way in hell you would willingly put yourself in this traumatic position.

That's what you remind yourself of anyway. Especially since it’s hard finding anything else with your label. Damn witch society and their stupid social standings for making everyone believe that a Saved witch is any less of value than a Sacred one.

It’s been a while since your last assignment, and after how badly that one had ended, you’ve been contemplating if it was a mistake to come so soon - just like your coworkers had presumed. 

You brush those thoughts aside and remember why you’re here, to save.

"Did you have to kill her? Was that really necessary?" you prod.

"Yeah, it gets them off my back," he huffs, "What do you want?" He peers at you, trying to figure you out.

One ‘perk’, for lack of a better word, of being one of the Saved is that when a Sinful reads you, they catch onto the lingering darkness and assume you're one of them. It makes it easier for them to trust you, which inherently makes your job easier.

"Need a place to crash for a week or two. I sensed you from outside. Thought it was safe here since we're the same and all that." You had rehearsed this part, knowing you would need a valid excuse to get close to him. And it was normal, the Sinful did usually group together. Everyone is stronger in numbers.

"Does this look like a boarding house to you? Get the fuck out." He turns back to the dead woman's body and catches her blood in a vessel filled with ash and other unrecognizable ingredients.

"What kind of ritual is this?" You ask, ignoring his demand and following him around the room as he throws other components into the blood pool. "Looks very...ancient?" It looks disgusting if you’re being completely honest, but you have to play along. "Need help?"

"Why aren't you leaving?" He questions. "Did I not make myself clear? Get. Out."

"What if we make a deal," you suggest, starting your plan. "I'll clean up your messes and stay out of your way and you let me stay here. I'm a newbie, if you can't tell. So far I'm really enjoying how much I don't care. I can do whatever and go wherever I want. Well actually I can't, I think I'm being hunted-" Your rambling trick works and he interrupts you, clearly irritated. and doing whatever he can to shut you up.

Taehyung rubs a hand over his face when he realizes he can't get rid of you, "Okay! Okay, I really don't give a shit. Stay here then. Whatever. Just stop talking. Fuck."

It’s rather easy getting him to cave, but in retrospect, that's not a good thing. It just proves how far gone he is. For example, who doesn't care if a random person - specifically a person who broke into their home - stays with them for an uncertain amount of time? He just doesn't care. And that's scary.

He walks towards the door, the vessel still in hand, and turns to you to say, "I'll be back later. Take care of the body."

Lovely.

3:00 AM

There’s a reason why this time of night is called the witching hour. That's when witches and warlocks are the most powerful. 

So here you are, cross-legged and floating above the floor, getting ready to do something rather invasive, but effective. You aren’t sure if there’s a specific name for what you’re doing, but you’re basically putting yourself into Taehyung’s dreaming mind to pull the memories out of their hiding spots.

When the darkness takes over, it pushes everything aside and fills your mind with disturbing thoughts instead of your own, and it does this so quickly that you forget almost everything about yourself in a matter of minutes.

It’s also tricky because you aren’t able to detect what the memories are until after having drug them out from the deepest pockets of his mind. You have a 50/50 chance of this working in your favor, and you really need it to.

Being inside someone's dream is like being underwater. You don't move as fast as you usually do, and everything's a little fuzzy to look at. Thankfully Taehyung is smart enough to have his memories boxed away, so it isn’t hard to find them. You reach for the nearest one to you, then proceed to open the lid.

The first memory that you pull is one from Taehyung's childhood. You watch his family run around the beach, laughing and splashing around in the salty ocean water.

You reach for another, and suddenly it's autumn. Older Taehyung and his younger sister are kicking the leaves around in the park. A crisp breeze carries the leaves away in the wind while they play.

The next memory leaves you chilled. Taehyung is driving through a snowstorm on his way home after picking his sister up from school. He didn't want her to drive in this weather. You watch in horror as a deer runs out in front of them. He swerves and the car spins on the icy road before rolling several times. They're knocked out for a while, and when Taehyung finally comes to he notices that she's no longer next to him, and there's a giant hole in the windshield.

You return to your body, which is covered in a cold sweat. 'What a terrible way to watch a loved one die. No wonder he let the darkness in.'

You’re ready for your next plan of attack the following morning when Taehyung finds you in the kitchen. His face twists when he notices your bowl, he’s not-so-secretly judging your choice of food.

"What? A witch has to eat." You say, defending the sugary cereal. "Plus, it was in your cabinet. You bought it."

"Didn't buy it. Also not my house, I'm just ahhh - renting it for the time being." He grins, obviously satisfied with his response.

'He's in a rather decent mood. Especially compared to yesterday. Does that mean the memories worked? There's only one way to find out...'

"So," you start, even though you know Taehyung isn’t paying attention to you, "How did you sleep?"

"I relived my sister's death last night." 'Yeah. That one's on me. My bad.' "But I also dreamed about this breakfast cafe near my favorite park that my family used to eat at every time we came to the city."

Your eyes grew in size when you realize that he remembered a memory all on his own. This is really good. Really, really good.

Taehyung wakes up feeling different, but he can’t place how. For the first time in a while, he doesn’t hear whispering, and he can’t help but wonder if you have something to do with that.

'It must be', he decides. 'You, for whatever reason, keep the whispering at bay.'

And then it clicks. You're one of them. And he doesn't know what to do about it.

You're here to fix him. But he doesn't want to change. To go back to a normal life. Well, as normal of a life as a warlock can have.

He sits up in bed and opens his palm. The smallest flame appears and he watches it dance in his gloomy room. He doesn’t want to miss this. Without black magic, Taehyung is nothing but a weak man, incapable of protecting the people he cares about.

He plays it off when he sees you in the kitchen, choosing to talk about his dreams last night, and watches your face light up when he threw in that last one.

"Do you want to visit that place today? It sounds like it's nice," You suggest before getting up to put your empty dish in the sink.

Taehyung's face drops, he’s right. You’re one of the Saved.

"You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you? It's too bad that place doesn't exist," he hisses before driving you backward. Your head bounces off the wall and he doesn’t hesitate to push the knife he had hidden earlier against your windpipe.

"Do you think I'm an idiot? I know what you are," he seethes. His rage deepens as his face lowered to yours. His eyes burn into yours, "You're Saved. And now you're trying to save me. Correct?"

You swallow slowly and nod. This is a serious situation. At any point, Taehyung could snap. Then who would save him?

Both of you proceed to look at each other, waiting for the other to do something stupid. He presses the knife further into your skin, fighting with himself to end your life. But he can’t, for some reason, he’s intrigued and wonders ‘What if?’

"Fuck it," he breathes, having made up his mind, and closes the gap between you. His lips move against yours in a fight for power. The forgotten knife drops to the floor and his arms move to hold you tightly between his body and the wall.

You’re in shock. This isn’t supposed to happen. Definitely not a part of your plan. You don't sleep with the people you're supposed to save; you're pretty sure there's a rule against that somewhere. But strangely enough, you aren’t complaining. He’s a good kisser.

'This really shouldn't be happening.'

No matter how wrong it may be, you let things continue. He has you shoved up against the wall, his lips covering yours. 

Taehyung’s magic massages along the sides of your body, before joining in the middle and going right for your center.

He knows exactly what you want before you do, touching the right places, and bringing goosebumps to your skin's surface with every motion.

He’s addictive - whether it’s because of the taste of sin on his skin or the taste of the black magic vibrating through his veins - you can’t get enough of it.

Practically every nerve in your body is on fire and you haven't even gotten to the fun part yet.

You moan when the pressure between your legs grows, and bite your lip in an attempt to keep them in.

"You should be running in the opposite direction right about now," he purrs before leaning to drag his tongue along your neck.

"Oh please, I'm not going anywhere. Not until I get what I want." You pant. 

"And what do you want?" he questions with a sly smirk.

"You." 'And to save you.'

He doesn’t hesitate to tear your clothes off before removing his own.

"Please," you beg, needing to be touched by him. Your insides ache for more of him.

He brings a hand up and closes it around your neck, "No talking. Got it?"

You nod again, secretly enjoying the slight pressure and the tingling feeling the lack of oxygen creates.

He lifts one of your legs and you wrap it around his waist, opening yourself up for him. His fingers sink into your heat, moving at a pace you can’t keep up with, preparing you for what’s to come next.

Another moan leaves your swollen lips as he pushes into you without hesitation. Your back arches involuntarily and you squeeze your eyes shut at the amount of intense pleasure running through your body. 

Taehyung holds firmly onto your sides and he pounds into you relentlessly. His deep thrusts have you close to seeing stars. The magic he’s using simultaneously leaves behind sensuous, shadowy caresses upon your skin as he takes you to another dimension.

“Fuck,” he growls before placing lingering wet kisses along your neck. You marvel at how he stretches your insides out in the most delicious way.

“Don't stop. Keep going,” you choke out, unable to stay silent any longer, “Please keep going, oh god!” You’re so close to the edge. A few hard thrusts later and you’re shaking as the coil deep inside you snaps, sending waves of white heat throughout your body.

You whimper when he continues to pound into you, his release not far off. Taehyung moans one last time before releasing into you, and your convulsing walls suck in his warm seed.

You shudder when he slowly pulls out of you and dropped to his knees. A small gasp slips out when his parted lips meet your center. Your fingers grasp onto his hair as his tongue dove deep into you.

Taehyung indulges himself in your sweet taste. For whatever reason, he can’t get enough of you. It isn’t until you’re pleading for him to give you a break that he releases your already sensitive nub.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, and once he has he stands back up. Both of your chests are moving at the same pace as you look into each other's eyes, almost asking, what now?

"Okay. Well, um, I'm gonna shower... I'll see you later?" Fuck, you don’t know how to talk to him after that. Are you supposed to thank him for the best sex of your entire life? Do you just quit your job and run away?

Taehyung, on the other hand, is in awe. He isn’t sure what kind of spell you have over him but he’s already craving more.

He doesn’t care enough to argue about the fact that you lied to him. Not after that. 

Plus, sex is sex. If he has to put up with your annoying habits and attempts to 'save him' for a while longer for good sex then he will. Simple as that.

With his decision made, he accompanies you into the bathroom. "I hope you're ready for round two."

Honestly, you aren’t sure how long you’ve been with Taehyung. The days tend to blend together, particularly due to your inconsistent sleeping schedule.

You still have your mission in mind, but it isn’t something you desire to finish right away. The small sliver of darkness inside of you rejoices when you push your duties aside.

The second Taehyung becomes Saved and is returned to his family, you have to say goodbye. And that's something that you aren't prepared for. You know now that your heart has gotten involved, which is a dangerous game to play.

This is exactly why they say to never mix business with pleasure. It makes such a mess of things.

Taehyung keeps you in bed for most of the day, for reasons most can assume, and your exhausted body isn’t tired of this routine just yet. Habit has it that you usually fall asleep, phone in hand. So it’s no surprise that when you awoke to it vibrating you already knew what to expect.

After rubbing the sleep from your tired eyes, you squint at the bright screen in an attempt to read what it says.

Unknown Caller

Your heart sinks, and you crawl out of bed. 'This isn't going to be good.' You hurry to make it out of the bedroom before answering.

"Hey, Taemin-"

"It shouldn't be taking you this long to track a Sinful." Your supervisor interrupts, "What the hell is going on? Are we losing you?"

"Nothing's going on, I swear. I tracked him at first but then things got complicated. I even managed to break into his place." Your excuse is half-true. "I’ll keep you updated on my progress-"

"It’s been over a month. You have 48 hours to bring him in, or we're giving the case to Dino. My advice is to get the Sinful bastard on a leash and *bring him in.*" He hangs up on you and his words echo in your mind. 48 hours. 48 hours until someone else is taking him from you.

"Who was that?" Taehyung asks with a scratchy voice when you crawl back into bed.

"Wrong number. Go back to sleep," you whisper. You wait for his breathing to even out and take the risk of projecting into his mind once again. It’s dangerous to flood him with so many memories this fast but you don’t have a choice. You pluck memory after memory out of those damn boxes, hoping that it’s enough to make him come back. You’re running out of time.

The following morning, you realize just how dangerous it can be. Taehyung is in a sour mood from the second he wakes.

"Why can't you just stay out of my mind for one night!" he hollers, climbing out of bed and trying to get away from you as fast as possible. "I know you were in there. Why do you have to remind me of her." His voice cracks and it pains you to see how much he’s hurting.

You can’t stop though. Even though he’s in pain, he’s still feeling, and he needs to feel to get better. “Because your memories are important-”

"Stay out of my fucking head!" He rages, cutting you off and disappearing before you can say anything else.

It's now been several hours since you saw him last. Maybe you were pushing him too hard and the darkness realized that it's being forced out. They call it a flare-up; it’s like the last straw. The darkness will do anything to stay in its host, even if that means harming them.

Once Taehyung returns, you try not to panic when you see the bruises all over his body. Not normal purple-blue bruises, but deep green and black ones. Serious ones. Especially for a warlock. These kinds of bruises are caused by magic. Strong magic. Typically black magic.

"Oh my god, what happened?" You rush to him the second he steps in the door. He’s shirtless, hands all bloody, and covered in those god-awful bruises.

"I don't- I don't know. Blood everywhere. The bodies. I don't know."

Your hands rest over his and you close your eyes, focusing on retracing his steps with your gifts.

You’re transported to an alley, where you watch as Taehyung attacked a mob of the Sinful. You wince when he snaps the first man’s neck and then consumes the darkness seeping out of the slumped body. He claims the additional power for himself, as he does with the rest of the people that you see left lying around.

You pull yourself back to the present and look at Taehyung. With more black magic running through his veins, heat radiates from his body and his muscles tense, hoping to be used in another battle shortly.

"Taehyung, I know it hurts to remember and feel these emotions but I really need you to keep them. Don't let the darkness take them away. Please, Taehyung. It's important." His eyes meet yours and you can see the fight he’s putting up from the inside.

"I'm trying. I really am."

Your fingers trail down his cheek, "I know. I know how hard it is, and I know how strong you are. You can do this."

"I can't." Tears stream down his face, "I'm nothing without it, I'm weak. I have to let it in again. I need it."

His entire demeanor changes after saying those words, not realizing the weight that they carry. He’s so close, and now it’s back. He’s rid of the darkness for just a few short minutes and he’s so broken. There’s no way you can save him all on your own.

"You," He says, his voice deepening to something sinister, "Don't you know when to give up? Haven't you realized he doesn't want you to save him?"

"He wants to be saved. You just won't let him go. I'll get him back, and I'll get you out for good," you spit out.

"It's been too long, he's never coming back," the voice gloats, although the darkness that spills through his lips doesn’t match his eyes. "How pathetic it is that you have feelings for this weak warlock. Don't you know that he will never be the same? He won't love you. He doesn't even know what love is. Stupid girl."

"That's a lie." You remind yourself that this isn’t Taehyung talking. This was the darkness. “He’s capable and worthy of so much love, unlike you.”

Even though you know better, there’s a small part of you that’s scared it’s true. 'What if it’s impossible for him to love? Even after he comes back?'

Taehyung can’t help it. He really tried. But it’s just too strong of a fight for him. He doesn’t have the energy.

And you don’t have time to waste. Grabbing onto his head, you stare into his eyes, "I'll get you out of there, I promise." He tries to pry your hands off but you hold on strong. "I promise, Taehyung. Please hold on just a little longer."

You hate to leave him, especially after a momentary breakthrough, but you need help. So you dial the one person you know you can depend on.

"Hey Dino, how fast can you and the others get here?"

It's been different since you've left.

Taehyung doesn't understand why he feels this way, or why he feels at all. He doesn't care, at least that's what he's telling himself to get through the past couple of days. Although he can't help but wonder why you left, and if you’ll ever come back.

It’s thoughts like these that have him so distracted, that's why he doesn’t sense them. That's why they’re able to capture him. Once again, Taehyung is nothing but a weak warlock - even with black magic on his side this time.

Whoever it is, they’re strong enough to cast a sight spell. He can’t see anything. He doesn’t know where he’s being taken.

When they finally release the spell, he's confused by his surroundings. He was almost expecting to see more Sinful wanting to suck the rest of his powers out for their own benefit this time.

To his genuine surprise, it's you.

You and a crowd. All Saved witches and warlocks. Even though he knows what's coming, he's terrified. Not many make it through this part.

"I know you're smart, so I don't need to explain to you that this is going to hurt like a bitch. But I need you to hold on. The darkness is going to want you to give up, and I swear to god Taehyung, if you let that happen I will kill you. You need to hold on."

The group circles around his body and began chanting the spell while you prepared to do the worst part. You refuse to let anyone else do this. 

It’s horrific, to say the least. No one enjoys burning protective sigils into another person's skin, especially when that person is someone you love. You know better than to look at his face when you do this, but his screams remind you of how terrible it hurts, and the scars on your arms ache having been in this exact position. The smell of melting flesh is enough to make you sick to your stomach, let alone the combination of all of these things.

Hell is nothing compared to what a witch goes through to be Saved. The rush of everything that you have done but technically didn't do, the people you murdered, the emotions and memories that come flooding in. It's a lot to be overwhelmed with. And sadly, not everyone can handle it. 

You pray to Nyx that Taehyung is capable to make it through this.

'I'm okay, keep going.'

Raising your gaze to him as his voice sounds in your mind, he reassures you that this has to be done.

'Whatever happens, keep going.'

You nod, holding back tears when he lets out another blood-curdling cry.

You don't know what happened. An eerie sensation washes over you as you try to make sense of the scene in front of you. Someone screams. Who’s screaming? You don’t recognize them to be coming from you, but it has to be. The only thing you’re able to focus on is someone dragging you away from his cold, limp body.

Dino holds onto you through your endless fighting, "He's gone. We need to move. You know we're all at risk with that kind of dark power floating around, unseen."

And that’s the last time you saw Taehyung.

Life after leaving the city is hard. 

You refuse to talk to anyone about what happened, but they all have their own assumptions. Even your supervisor wants you to take more time off but you’ve been declining. Surrounding yourself with work is the only distraction capable of taking your mind off everything else.

You’ll gladly do anything but sit at home where you actually had time to think.

The assignment you recently returned from had been really underwhelming; you brought back and returned the woman to her husband in less than a day. A new record for you. All it took was a handful of wedding photos and snap - she was back. Granted, this one was only gone for a fortnight, so it was an easy job compared to... You let that thought end abruptly, refusing to say his name.

Unlocking your front door, you take a step inside and drop your bag at your feet, your magic closing and relocking it for you. 

'Something is wrong.'

You feel it, someone else’s presence. You have no idea how or why - but someone is in the next room over. Your magic can sense theirs.

Nobody knows where you live, not even the other Saved witches. You need to have your safe haven in case anything ever happens. Your house is spellbound to keep the Sinful from entering. However, if a Sinful took in an absurd amount of darkness, it isn’t impossible for that to happen. And you’re terrified to find out who is waiting for you.

It isn’t common for them to hunt you down but in the rare event that it does happen, you have certain protocols to follow, or else things can get very dangerous. Scared to death, you keep your hands at bay and pull yourself mostly together before walking into the living room.

"Why are you crunched over walking like that?"

Letting out a yelp, you immediately turn to your left. “Taehyung?" Your hand rests on your beating heart. 'He's alive?'

"Before you ask, yes I'm alive, and yes it's actually me." It takes you a moment to register his words, which he completely understandable. He knows you must have been through a lot these last couple of weeks. Especially since everyone assumed he was dead.

"There's no way... It’s not possible. Dino checked before we left, you were dead. I don't know how you are here right now." 

'You're hallucinating. That's the only realistic answer. You're going crazy and imagining all of this. There is no way Taehyung was alive this whole time. You would have known.'

"Well, apparently he didn't do his job very well because here I am," he chuckles. This is so not the time for chuckling and happy reunions.

You know it’s cliche to do so, but you really just had to poke him in the chest to check. Magic-wise, you can tell he’s alive. You can also tell that he’s still a warlock again, blessed with the gifts of Nyx, but you can’t place any darkness within him.

"How is that possible?” you mumble to yourself, reading his soul again.  All Saved have a trace of darkness...but he has none.

"This might be a wild assumption, but can it be due to the fact that I died and came back? I don't think the darkness could withstand that."

"That seems logical." You’re still weirded out by this whole ordeal but that answer would work for now, at least until you brought him to the base tomorrow to be checked out. "So then why were you hiding in the corner?"

His lips curl up, "What can I say, I learned from the best."

"Okay, so then why are you here? In my house?"

"I needed to see you. I didn't believe it at first either when I first woke up. I thought maybe I turned into a ghost or something, that my spirit was trapped since I died dark. But people noticed me on the streets. And for the first time in years, only my own thoughts were in my head. No whispering." He rests a hand on your cheek, "You saved me."

“It was my job,” you blurted out, not knowing what to say. This is absurd, everything that had just happened made absolutely zero sense. 

He gives you a look, knowing better than to believe that was the only reasoning for why you pushed so hard to bring him back.

"And can I just say for my personal well-being that I never wanted to hurt myself more than the day when fake-me said that it was impossible for me to love you. You have no idea how hard I was fighting to come through and say the exact opposite."

Taehyung steps forward and pulls you against his body, "Because I do, I love you."

Your heart nearly bursts having heard him confess the truth. Raising your hands up to his head, you pull him down into your waiting kiss, where you pour love and light into one another.

While you’ve become accustomed to the taste of sin on his lips, you’ve got to admit, the taste of love is so much better.

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[honeybadger-has-a-grimoire]

Pokémon Grounding Ritual

Hey, everyone! It’s Clover, and, as per the results of the poll, the next blog topic is my Pokémon Grounding Technique! And I have to say, this is a good thing to write about now, specifically, since a lot of stuff went down IRL—and I’ll definitely need to ground and recenter myself soon.

So grab your bag, your favorite Pokémon, and your Pokédex as we talk about how I use one of my favorite media franchises in my practice!

Psychology and Witchcraft: A Quick Background Discussion

Okay, so before we go on our journey to be the very best like no one ever was, a quick discussion on how I use psychology in my practice is necessary for background knowledge.

In my witchcraft practice, I use the idea that spell work and ritual can help you calm down and focus on a problem at hand. In doing things with your hands and with the set intention of helping you out with X,Y, or Z, you are creating a space in your brain to look at the problem from a new perspective. This new perspective then helps you solve the problem since not only is your headspace calm, but, also, doing the spell diverts your consciousness from the problem at hand—which then allows your unconscious mind to work through it a bit better and help find a solution through processing all the information you have gathered.

I mainly use this approach to witchcraft through grounding techniques, like making Tea or playing Pokémon. The ability to use my hands and distract my brain helps a lot to calm me down and look at problems or situations through a new perspective—mainly a calm one.

Pokémon specifically comes in handy when I’m overstimulated, exhausted, and miserable. I work two jobs, and one of them has various different types of lights of various levels of brightness and warmth. This lack of uniformity causes a migraine due to photosensitivity and it only gets compounded by the store being wall-to-wall with customers on Sundays. So I start feeling overwhelmed and jittery and not okay. I need to escape and to ground all the excess energy.

So… I hid in the girl’s bathroom, turned on my emulator, lowered the brightness and played GBA rom hacks and fan games of Pokémon.

And that’s where my little ritual began.

Now, let’s actually talk Pokémon ritualistic grounding.

Pokémon Grounding Ritual

The actual ritual itself is very simple and adaptable to your specific needs. Remember, what works for me may not work for you and what works for you may not work for Tyson down the street and what works for Tyson may not work for his partner. In witchcraft, Pop Culture Witchcraft especially, a lot of it requires researching (cultural/historical contexts, open versus closed practices, other people’s paths, etc.) and then trial and error.

For me, the Pokémon Grounding Ritual works as such:

I hide in the bathroom, my room, or another solitary place. Double points if it’s dark and quiet.

I boot up my Delta Emulator app on my phone.

I let my intuition guide me on picking out a Pokémon game to continue playing—and this is the most important step because I am usually too overwhelmed to think. So, by going on autopilot, I am allowing myself to slowly start coming down from overstimulation or anxiety.

I play and allow myself to focus on the game for about five or ten minutes (more depending on how overwhelmed I feel and where I am). And I let my inner self decide when it’s ready to rejoin the world—which is usually after a battle or two.

Repeat when necessary.

Allowing my excess energy to have a focus is why this really works. I am taking all this pent up, uncomfortable energy and putting it into action physically by moving my hands and letting the calming surroundings of my favorite video game franchise bring me back to myself. When I’m home, if I’ve had an overwhelming day, I usually do this by working on my Arthurian Grimoire project you’ve seen me post on my main blog or make tea. But I can’t exactly pull out my craft kit or my teapot whenever I’m out and overwhelmed.

Psychological-Techno magick is great for on the go because I always have my phone on me in case of emergency. So I will always have Pokémon with me.

What about you guys? Do you have a similar ritual? If not, what’s your go to grounding? Tell me, I would like to know!

That’s it for today, folks!

[violetmuses]

Versus - A. Aretas (Part II) ❤️‍🩹

Title: Versus - A. Aretas (Part II) ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Female Reader

Main Storyline: Following the death of Isabel Aretas, Armando crosses paths with you again.

Versus - Part I 🖤

Tag List: @nelo0wesker @yassbishimvintage @nobodygetsza @peaxhygirl @superstar-t20 @adoresmiles @klssngss @deja-r @hyper-trash-panda @amethyst-loves-bucky 🏷

=======

2024

Unexpected knocking rattled against the front door of your home this evening and you scrambled to cover up, not relaxing yet.

Your RING camera signaled two famous men who stood on the porch right now:

Your own comrade from the Miami Police Department, Detective Mike Lowrey, joined his longtime partner and best friend Marcus Burnett.

“What the hell, Mike?” Opening their entrance, you welcomed both friends inside and shut the front door. There's just no other choice.

“I'm really sorry for bothering you like this, but it's an emergency.” Mike hardly sat down.

Intelligence agencies whispered that late Miami Captain Conrad Howard muddled with the cartel for years.

Who knows what could happen if garbage ruined Cap’s legacy now?

“What happened? I've heard some things about Captain…” You trailed.

“Marcus and I can prove that Cap is innocent, but…” Mike paused when your RING Camera signaled again.

You didn't recognize the stranger who joined this doorstep, at least not yet.

Wearing this Bud Light shirt, the man chose one trucker hat which veiled his eyes. Jeans covered both legs and boots or sneakers walked along.

“Mike, do you know who's waiting at the door right now?” You questioned Lowrey just in case.

“Shit!” Mike cursed as an immediate response tonight.

Even Marcus stopped playing around and cringed silently for once.

“What's going on?” You arched your brow toward Mike, puzzled.

“That's Arman…” Mike hardly finished speaking before you exposed one of your firearms upon realization.

“We need Armando for the case, all right?” Mike wanted control. “Put your gun down.”

“Mike…” You wouldn't listen. “Bring him in here. I dare you!”

“We need him and he's my son.” Mike revealed brand-new info this time around.

“Your…” Your voice whispered as Mike disarmed you regardless.

“Let Armando through.” Mike eased. “We can't solve this case without his help.”

“Fine.” You accepted reality.

After closing both eyes, you walk back to this front door and view the presence of your enemy: Armando Aretas.

Tension burns in that living room when you shut the door again and silence nearly drowns all four of you.

_____

“AMMO couldn't help?” You offered that question to Mike while everyone looked through files.

“Dorn referred us near you.” Mike acknowledged one of the department's tech geniuses. “Armando can identify whoever framed Cap.”

“Just promise me something. ” You continued working.

"Yeah?" Mike asked you.

“When the team finds this monster, kill him.” You don't make eye contact with Lowrey. “No more dark headlines."

“Deal.” Mike nodded toward you just when Armando pulled another flash drive.

The silent trade is quick and you load material on this computer once more.

“It's him.” Armando observed this grayscale picture of one man with bright hair, confirming.

“You sure?” Mike glanced toward his son and checked.

“That's who ordered the hit.” Aretas spoke up again.

“James McGrath: Former Army Ranger turned DEA agent. Tortured before joining the cartel himself.” You detailed highlights of McGrath’s own criminal history.

“That's it. We got a name.” Mike took charge while speaking to Armando and Marcus. “Let's reconvene in the morning with a plan and get outta here.”

“Plenty of room.” You say, shutting down work for good.

______

“Thank you.” By morning, Mike, Marcus and Armando would leave your home while sporting tactical uniforms.

“Of course.” You nodded to Mike and Marcus, but Armando paused at the front door, looking in your direction.

“I'm sorr…” Both of you struggled with the much-needed apology.

This mutual grudge needed to fade out because life called so much more than pain.

Watching Armando leave, your heart shattered.