#no shade to people whose belief makes them look for ways to be more kind and understanding and tolerant

[phillipthehermit]

FINALLY the Orthodox Easter is tomorrow, that means that MAYBE my mom will stop talking about Christian stuff for ONE SECOND at least

[tritoch]

I wish people were willing to have a slightly broader or more expansive understanding of FFXIV's women because I think there's so much there in terms of easily-unearthed subtext that no one really thinks about! And I don't mean this in a "people need to re-evaluate their response to the women of Stormblood" way (though I do think that's largely true), I mean I think fandom's understanding even of the women it mostly likes is pretty weak. And you can say that's because the women are underwritten, and I won't argue that they couldn't use more attention from the writing, but that doesn't prevent you from analyzing them the way you can any character in fiction.

Like everyone's always like, oh, Y'shtola and Krile are like your snarky wine aunts, haha. But...Sharlayan is a pretty ossified and patriarchal society from what we see of it in Endwalker and places like the AST quests. Can we open ourselves to the possibility that it means something that almost every young Sharlayan woman we meet, almost all young women in academia, tends to be a little sharp and quick on the retort? The arch and snarky ways in which those two carry themselves reflect in some sense the facts that Krile is almost literally a nepo baby woman in STEM who is barely older than her students, while Y'shtola learned her behaviors from her much older female mentor, a woman who hated Sharlayan academic culture so much she literally abandoned it to go live in a cave.

Or like, Alisaie! Fan jokes and meta frequently buy into her tendency to characterize the dynamic between her and Alphinaud as a jock/nerd, street savvy extrovert vs book smart introvert thing. Except, tragically, Alphinaud's highest stat is 100% Charisma and he absolutely pulled in his student days. All his greatest achievements are diplomatic, and he very easily develops strong friendships with people in every culture you learn about. Alisaie is the determined, sensitive genius who revolutionizes Eorzea by proving the tempered can be healed. She's just permanently carrying a chip on her shoulder that while she and her brother are remembered as the youngest students in Studium history, actually he got in six months before her, a fact pretty much no one else ever brings up once. She's constantly fuming over the fact that he was marginally better than her in certain specific ways in high school, and looking to differentiate them in ways that actually fail to credit her own obvious strengths and accomplishments. I think that's so fun! It's so juicy, and it's equally good for comedy or serious character studies.

Venat is a genuinely benevolent hero who has no compunction sacrificing lives for the greater good. Minfilia is kind and compassionate and clearly on some level actually buys into the narrative of her own unique moral authority. Ysayle is a revolutionary firebrand with almost no concern for the common man, whose death reflects her Javert-like inability to reconcile her own romantic belief in justice with the tragic ways her blinkered worldview (born largely of trauma) let her be easily co-opted by a violent system. But even people who like these characters rarely move past surface-level reads (people who think Venat is just an all-loving mommy figure make me want to fucking die). The fandom is allergic to drawing connections the game doesn't draw, and fails to recognize that FFXIV is a game where characters voice understandings of themselves and others that are wrong about as often as they're right.

You can already see the ways that women like Wuk Lamat and Cahciua and Sphene are getting flattened or losing their shading in fan reception and it's boring. Like I'm not even saying this because you should take female characters more seriously or something (though you should), I'm literally just bored to tears sometimes and if you guys turn Wuk Lamat into another Hot Dumb Jock Lady, I will combust.

[rhinestonz]

☆ FRAGILE ☆

People appreciate beauty in many different ways. Some admire from afar , some praise. However , your roommates Gojo and Geto , we’re the kind that loves to step in pristine snow. The kind that like to taint beauty just for the fun of it. 

Roommate!Satosugu x Virgin!reader. Blowjob , doggy style , virginity loss , name calling a bit. Fingering. Masterbation.

There was no doubt in your mind that the universe was punishing you for everything you had ever done when you got paired with Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo as roommates. Paired with the men whose names floated around campus like warnings of a ghost. They were cruel… according to everyone else. They were never cruel to you. So nice since you moved in , helping you unpack , making you a welcome meal , showing you around. Maybe the rumors were just rumors. Well , except for one , the one about them being hot… fuck were they hot. If that rumor weren’t true you wouldn’t be in the confines of your room desperately trying to make your fingers do something for you. Soft desperate whimpers stifled by the biting of your lip. Tears of frustration running down your cheek. “F-fuck I can’t do it “ you cried, a genuine small sob. Frustrated beyond belief, throwing yourself back into your pillow, moving your fingers around your clit desperately. That’s the only satisfaction you could give yourself. 

Your body shot up at the sound of your door creaking. Eyes widening meeting shaded blue eyes. Gojo stood at your door frame, arms crossed , lips curled in amusement. He walked towards your figure. “ Hey Geto , come check this out “ you yelled into the living room. His booming voice snapping you out of your shock.” Oh um Gojo you're not supposed to be home” your voice shook as you  frantically pulled your blanket over yourself only for it to be yanked away. “ and you’re not supposed to be touching yourself so horribly” Gojo sassed at you. Your silk nightgown rolled up to your hips and your cunt glisting , clenching around nothing. The sight making both males hard. Geto arrived in your room in no time , standing over your bed looking over to gojo who had scooped your wrist up. “No wonder you’re struggling slut .. fingers so tiny there useless “ he spat , passing your wrists onto geto before his fingers prodded at you gummy walls. Your head shot back , his fingers filled you up so easily, with no effort. It was honestly embarrassing. “F-fuck Gojo please~” you choked out , your legs moving. Not used to this stimulation. “ relax baby “ Geto cooed , spreading your legs nice and wide for Gojo, “ we just wanna help ~”

They helped you all right. Gave you everything they had. “ fuck your so tight baby-“ Geto grunted , his tip being sucked in by your cunt. “ Crazy , did I not stretch her out well enough?” Gojo asked incredulously “ swear lil virgin cunts never cease to amaze me” he sighed , grunting as your warm mouth enveloped him. “ she got such a good throat on her though!” he chuckled , his arms behind his head. With your shaking arms squashed beneath you, you moved your fingers to your clit , trying desperately to get off even more. Geto scoffed at you “ you still tryna use those useless things ?!” He asked , slapping your hands away. Your whine of disappointment turning into a moan as his warm fingers replaced yours. You could tell he knew what he was doing. He had a pattern , he was skilled. “ I’m not enough for you baby? , first time you're getting some dick but you're still so needy”. you let out a soft whimper on Satoru’s cock. Surprised you hadn’t choked with how it was hitting the back of your throat. 

It was like they had a connection. With one look at each other they both matched up their paces. Your whimpers pitiful as your throat and cervix were hit at the same time. You finally choked on Satoru’s cock only to be forced back down and told to breathe through your nose. A task hard with his giant length. Your legs shaking violently as Geto pounded into you, unrelenting thrusts filling up your core. You felt yourself melt as warm liquid filled both of your holes. Letting a long moan ring against Gojo’s length. The two males grunting and panting as you whimpered. White spilling from your mouth and dripping from your cunt. The sound of exhaustion being broken by their words in unison “See pretty girl.. we helped you!” They smiled. There was another rumor , that they were amazing at sex.. you were so glad to know that rumor was true also. 

[lilith-scourge]

TW: Abortion mention

Questions #1 - The Basics

These are the first questions you need to answer about your character - the stuff you probably need to know to get started.

Name? Lilith Alayaya (original), Lilith Scourge (current).

Age? 160 years old, looks in her late 20's or early 30's

Approximate height? 5’ 8"

Approximate weight? 125

Hair colour? Dark Brown

Eye colour? Chocolate brown

Skin tone? Olive

Do they speak with an accent? No

Where are they from? The Ruins of Destarin

Where are they now? Destarin, Trade District

Questions #2 - Backstory

Who are their parents? She has a witch mother who was named Igraine and a demon for a father whose name she does not know.

What is their earliest memory? Playing with her sisters as different shapeshifting creatures. Alternatively, watching her mother do magic.

What did they want to be when they grew up? A badass succubus who people could grow to fear. She always wanted what her sisters wanted which was a guild of their own. Possibly a midwife after learning bits and pieces of the craft.

What did/do their parents want them to be? Something successful, whatever that may be.

Do they have siblings? Older or younger? Brothers or sisters? She has 2 older sisters, Evelyn and Rae

Do they have or have they ever had children? How many? No children. Whenever she starts to realize she's with child, she takes a draught that her mother taught her to make. She doesn't think she would make a very good mother and would rather be the doting aunt than an absent mother.

Do they or have ever had a significant other? Are they still with them? Why? Why not? They've been in relationships, sometimes many at once, but while the other person finds it serious, Lilith finds them playthings. They're just ways to pass her immortal time. The older she becomes, the more she craves an intimate connection, however.

Up until now, what’s the most noteworthy thing they’ve done? To them? To the people around them? (Are they different things for different people?) Build the Scourge guild with her sisters and open a shop called Roses and Rosemary.

What was their education like? She knows how to read and write thanks to her mothers and sisters. She's very good with numbers and money. That's where her education lies at this moment.

Questions #3 - Tastes

What’s your character’s favourite colour? Red. All different shades of red.

Do they/would they choose to wear a scent? What would it be? Lilith likes musky smells and often smells of Amber. She applies it to her wrists, the backs of her ears and her ankles. It often wafts around people as she walks by.

Are they a tea, or coffee drinker? or do they drink a lot of alcohol? What kind? Lilith prefers a cup of her own tea blend to coffee and will partake in alcohol, though not to get drunk. A buzz is nice, but she likes to be in control of her decisions and her person.

What kind of books do they read?  She loves books with a strong female character that can kick tons of ass. Other than that, she's really not a reader. She's more of a doer.

What kind of music do they like? Do they like music at all? Lilith is a fan of anything that sounds savage and morose. she loves the violin and the cello and could listen to them for hours.

If they were about to die, what would they have as their last meal? Um...a sexy human being, for sure.

Are they hedonistic? In all cases? Or does practicality sometimes/always/often win out? Oh yes. Definitely hedonistic. She often says 'fuck it' with practicality and does whatever feels right in the moment which can get her into sticky situations at times. The only thing that brings her down to earth are admonitions from her sisters. It doesn't really occur to her that she's done anything wrong until after she's done that wrong thing. Whoops.

Do they have any philias or phobias? No Phobias...possibly motherhood. Philias is anything that makes her feel sexy or wanted.

Questions #4 - Morals, Beliefs, and Faith

Do they have an internal or an external moral code? (Internal would be a something that they’ve come up with for themselves, external would be something they’ve had handed to them. Many religious people will have an external moral code, for example. Samurai warriors, too.)  She's got an External one. Growing up with her sisters already grown, she was more privileged because her sisters were already established, already had wealth. Everything she believes in came from her sisters and her mothers.

To what extent are their actions dictated by this code? A large extent. Not 100 percent, but possibly 80 percent. the other 20 percent is her own sense of justice

Do they believe in a God or Gods/Goddesses/Higher being of some description? She believes in Gods and Goddesses. The craft her mother shared with her was rooted in mother nature, and she can remember the woman praying to different ones in order to have her prayer heard.

Are they superstitious? I don't believe so.

Do they value faith/instinct more highly than reason? Instinct more than reason, unfortunately.

Do they believe in an afterlife? If so, what’s it like? Lilith isn't sure, honestly. She knows spirits exist, but as for an afterlife, she doesn't know.

Do they have any specific beliefs that manifest obviously? (Moral vegetarianism is a good example of this sort of thing): Take what you want and damn the rest? Nothing matters but my family?

Are the respectful of the beliefs of others? To what extent? She tries to be...but will sometimes piss people off when she doesn't think like them.

Have they ever had to stand up to criticism for being religious? Or not being religious? No.

Would they be more likely to act for the good of the one, or the good of the many? The good of the one. For sure.

Questions #5 - Relationships

Do they make friends easily? Not quite. She doesn't really care if people like her or not.

Do they have a best friend? Probably Merrymock.

Can they get people to do what they want them to? If so, how? She usually can. She’s got a face that’s hard not to love, and she can charm her way into most anything.

Do they have a lot of romantic relationships? Serious, or short term? If you can call fuck buddies, romantic, then yeah. they are usually short term.

Do they fall in and out of love easily? Not really. She doesn’t trust easily. Just because she’s friendly, doesn’t mean she’s stupid. She keeps a guard up, until the person can prove whether or not she can trust them.

Do strangers and acquaintances actually like them when they meet? They see someone insanely beautiful and are intrigued. whether they like her personality or not depends on the person.

Do they have a network? (That is, a range of people they’re connected to without necessarily knowing) Because of the Scourge Guild she has a whole network of people.

What is their relationship like with their family? She’s very, very close with them. She is the quintessential youngest sister. She loves her sisters more than anything in this world and would die for them, gladly.

Do they like children? Do they want children of their own? She's the 'fun' aunt. She doesn't mind children, she just doesn't want children of her own. 

Questions #6 - Physical Appearance

How does this character dress? How would they choose to dress, if all options were open to them? Sexy, always showing skin, always standing out. X, X, X

Do they have any tattoos? What do they mean? Several. the phases of the moon adorn her fingers, she has many runes and symbols that mean something to her.

Do they have piercings? How many? Is this culturally appropriate for them? ears, cartilage, nose piercing, nipple piercings

Do they have scars? Where did they come from? Her scars always heal when she feeds from someone

Do they alter their appearance in some way on a regular basis? (Make up, hair dye, that kind of thing) She's always made up, her hair is always done just so but it's her natural color.

Is there something they’d choose to change about their appearance if they had the opportunity to? No. She's very happy with how she looks and she loves that she has wings protruding from her back.

Is there something about their appearance they’re particularly proud of/happy with? Her wings and her horns.

Objectively, are they physically attractive? Fairly plain? Unattractive? Very physically attractive, and she knows how to flaunt it.

Do they have an accurate mental picture and opinion of their physical appearance? I think she might have a bit of a higher opinion of herself than others do.

How much time do they spend thinking about their physical appearance? It’s usually always in the back of her mind.

Questions #7 - Miscellaney

What did they have for breakfast this morning? Bacon, eggs, toast and cup of chamomile and mint tea.

Do they sleep on their side, front, or back? Either on her side or on her stomach because of her wings.

Do they work better with sound or silence? Sound

Do they have a strange obsession with something minor? Anything that can divine the future.

Do they like art? Sure. She can appreciate it.

Do they prefer to sit on the floor or on a chair? On the floor so she can spread out.

[kxngnestor]

The "Moral-Festo" Manifesto.

It's in the name, Moral. If there is anything that decides how a person holds themselves and their beliefs, it is measured by their morality. This also translates to art in unimaginable ways. Throughout this entire blog you will find analysis of all kinds of artistic pieces and videos with abstract designs and intents. One thing that seems to stick to them all, is their ability to convey sometime of action that can be deemed right or wrong depending on whose eyes they are being seen from. You could say that this pattern was derived from my choice of art, but non the less it ties in nicely. Aside from what is right or wrong, most of the pieces displayed here have artistic backgrounds that make them into the juggernaut of paintings and works of art that they are. The categories of works shown here are photos, paintings, and videos all with detailed analysis.

The paintings section of my blog features three main paintings that very accurately represent the theme of morality, even if it is subliminal. Those three paintings are The Last Judgment by Michelangelo, Yosemite IV by Natvar Bhavsar, and finally The Last Supper by Leonardo de Vinci. I would say that it is fairly obvious to say where we can see the morality aspect in the first and second painting considering that "The Last Supper" has Jesus in it, and "The Last Judgment" have some type of God like figure to it. Because both are filled with a God, we see how they all could be subjected to judgment, where the people's actions will be questioned on their morality with the way the paints show intense feelings of power in them. Now the second picture by Bhavsar is really one that you have to look into and question, how can simple strips and blend of colors reflect any sense of right or wrong? The trick is all in the colors. The blend of white, yellow, and orange in the dark shade are dark colors insinuate that there is no light. Colors like those can give off feelings of past sorrow and when these feelings come around, they make you question what could have been done to make me feel like this? That same question is one of regret from a decision that wasn't morally correct and didn't settle well in your heart. The author has a very good way on showing emotion in emotionless things.

The video section of my blog is the shows and even stronger sense of the theme. The two main videos are the "Re-Enactment" by Francis Alys and Rafael Ortega", and a small scene from "Hamlet". The first video that we see is the reenactment. The reenactment is the pinnacle of morality because of the video's realistic and suspenseful atmosphere that is creates. We can actually see in real time how one man's choices had repercussions and then how they were dealt with. There are two aspects of morality with this video, the first one is relating to the man's actions and the second to the polices. My personal opinion is that that neither where in the wrong, but one cause panic. The best part about this video is that its whole purpose was to show how much you can get out of it without having plot or continuous episodes, and that's what it achieved. The last video is hamlet. This one is very self-explanatory, there were loads of killings, but where they justified. I would say that most of them weren't, but this led to the scene becoming that much more impactful and worrisome.

With all sections of the blog covered, I hope you delight yourself with a plethora of emotions and moral decision.

[ibijau]

Price of wishes pt7 / on AO3

Lan Xichen meets his new relatives in the Cloud Recesses

Lan Xichen gazes upon the gates of the Cloud Recesses, and feels… 

Not scared, not quite, but nervous certainly. The more he travelled with Nie Huaisang and his brother's disciples, the more Lan Xichen became struck by how much the world has changed while he was clinging to his last believers and trying to survive. Towns are bigger, houses are more durable, people from different places mix, and they sell as common things items that he remembers being rare luxuries. 

The world has changed, and Lan Xichen is striving not to show how unsettled he feels. 

And then, there's this writing business. Out of every passing fashion that had to stick around… 

In spite of how he feels about this writing fad, Lan Xichen has been trying his best to learn. Trying isn’t succeeding. Lan Xichen can read some characters, and he knows certain texts thanks to Nie Huaisang’s efforts, but it simply isn’t enough to maintain the illusion of the person he is supposed to be.

Hopefully, Nie Huaisang’s other plan will work.

The Lan disciple guarding the gate is startled when he's told that the young master of his sect has returned, but by the time Lan Xichen asks that his uncle be warned he lost his jade token in an incident, that young man in white has already accepted his existence. It's not surprising, not when Lan Xichen has already convinced Nie Mingjue whose mind is much stronger, but it's still a relief. 

The Lan disciple dutifully sends a message to master Lan Qiren who arrives quite fast to the gate, followed closely by a boy whose features are eerily similar to Lan Xichen. He got that much right, it seems. 

Lan Xichen bows politely before the man who is now his uncle, the boy who he will call his brother for a full mortal lifetime, and smiles at both of them. He can feel for a moment their doubts about his presence, forming a stronger wall than Nie Mingjue’s did, but he only needs to absorb some of Nie Huaisang’s belief in him to make that wall crumble. It is not hard at all, and Lan Xichen can’t help but feel that those two are almost relieved by his intrusion in their lives.

It was the same with Nie Mingjue. He might act tough and stern, but he is young, not ten years older than Nie Huaisang. He’s also as desperate for company as his brother but in a position that forbids him from seeking out new friends. And now, as Lan Qiren caves into the invasion, Lan Xichen gets a flash of gratitude, because having a nearly fully adult nephew means someone he can rely on. Lan Qiren, like Nie Mingjue, is a lonely man, and shouldn’t be so resigned to it at such a young age.

“You weren’t supposed to be gone this long,” Lan Qiren scolds his nephew. “You should have been here a while ago to help prepare the arrival of the guest disciples. And what's this I hear about your token being lost?”

Nie Huaisang, unnoticed by nearly everyone, lets out a shaky breath.

“My apologies, shufu,” Lan Xichen says with another bow. “A few things came up while I was gone that delayed my return. In fact, I would like to speak to you about this immediately, if you have the time. Wangji as well, this will concern him. And… I think it might be good if Nie gongzi came as well.”

Lan Wangji, exactly as silent and austere as Nie Huaisang described him, stares at his brand new brother with emotionless eyes. When those eyes turn to Nie Huaisang though, they let a certain curiosity shine through, to which Nie Huaisang reacts by turning a little pink and averting his eyes. But no objection is made to Lan Xichen’s request, and they all retire to the house Lan Qiren shares with his nephew for a private conversation.

It is not an unpleasant place. Austere but elegant, as everything appears to be in the Cloud Recesses. One thing immediately attracts Lan Xichen’s attention: the number of books. This house alone appears to contain as many as all of Qinghe Nie’s library. This makes Nie Huaisang’s panic over Lan Xichen’s inability to read all the more understandable. If the entire sect is similar to Lan Qiren, then Lan Xichen’s meagre powers might not be enough to counter their surprise at a young master who cannot read fluently.

Tea is poured as refreshment for the travellers, and all four of them sit down. Lan Qiren allows his new nephew a moment to drink, then asks again about the delay in returning.

"The situation is this," Lan Xichen explains. "While I was away, something happened and I lost all my memories. I cannot be sure what it was exactly, but I do not appear to have any physical marks on me, nor did I detect anything that would indicate a curse. All I know for sure is that I barely knew who I was when this started."

His new relatives are startled at the news, especially Lan Wangji who glances at Nie Huaisang in a silent question, but with the slightest of push on Lan Xichen’s part they do not think of doubting that story.

"As I wandered, I stumbled upon the Unclean Realm where Nie Mingjue welcomed me and treated me as if we knew each other. I played along and didn't mention my predicament. I thought Nie Mingjue did not feel like an enemy, but I didn't know how much to trust my instincts. After a while, Nie Huaisang realised something was wrong, encouraged me to share my secret with him, and agreed to help me hide this for the time being. We both feared someone might try to take advantage, should my situation be revealed."

"A wise decision," Lan Qiren agreed, a severe expression on his face as he stroked his beard. "It is lucky you wandered into friendly territory, when others might have been less kind than the Nie." 

Meaning the Wen sect, Lan Xichen guesses. There's a feud of sorts between the Wens and the Nie, he understands, but really the whole cultivation world appears scared of them. 

"Our thanks to Nie gongzi for his help," Lan Qiren says. 

"Mn," Lan Wangji agrees, cramming a surprising amount of emotion in that single sound. Or maybe it is the way he's looking at Nie Huaisang, his pale eyes intense and sharp. 

Nie Huaisang blushes intensely and squirms a little, clearly uncomfortable with the attention, or perhaps with being praised over something that never happened. To rescue him from his discomfort, Lan Xichen promptly continues.

“The memory loss is actually rather severe,” he explained. “We are still figuring out what I can and cannot remember. While I was in Qinghe, I dared not say too much to Nie zongzhu, even after deciding he was friendly, because I couldn’t be sure of the extent of that friendship, and I knew I had to think of my sect’s safety. But after making me confess the truth on the way here, Nie gongzi has been of great help in figuring out just how much I have lost. He happened to have with him a number of texts concerning our rules and customs which he shared with me, though I must confess reading is not easy at this time. It causes me terrible headaches after even a very short while.”

Hearing this, Lan Qiren’s concern only grows, marking him to Lan Xichen as a far warmer person than Nie Huaisang prepared him for. Not that he blames his young friend for his judgement: it is not unexpected for a man to behave differently toward a student than he would with a relative, especially when the student is Nie Huaisang, who has made it clear that learning does not come easily to him.

Worried for this nephew he’d never met just half a shichen earlier, Lan Qiren quickly comes up with a plan.  First, he will go fetch a doctor to check Lan Xichen, since an external eye might detect more than he did himself. If they can identify what ails him, they might return him to normal. Should that fail (Lan Xichen will have to use his powers on the doctor as well, though he’s getting tired and might require a large offering from Nie Huaisang that night) they will need to keep the situation secret, for fear that certain people try to take advantage of the situation. In that case, Lan Qiren decides that his nephews will isolate themselves together for a few days, until the lectures for the guest disciples start, so that Lan Xichen can be reminded of the knowledge and behaviours expected of a young master of their sect.

Lan Wangji makes no objection to this plan. His only remark is to ask that Nie Huiasang stay with them until Lan Qiren returns with a doctor, so he can be further questioned about the present situation. Lan Qiren agrees, and leaves the boys alone.

As soon as they are just the three of them together, something shifts in Lan Wangji’s attitude. So far he hasn’t given the impression of a particularly expressive person, and yet Lan Xichen can instantly tell that his new brother is incredibly upset.

“Nie gongzi,” Lan Wangji says, his voice monotone and yet heavy with carefully refrained emotion. “Who is this person sitting with us?”

Nie Huaisang goes pale, as if he might faint, then turns a bright shade of red, before he starts laughing in a nervous manner.

“Ah, just as could be expected of you!” Nie Huaisang exclaims with a painful grin. “Lan gongzi is really something else! Anybody else could be fooled except you, I should have known!”

Lan Wangji makes no answer. Lan Xichen cannot tell if his new brother is aggravated or relieved that Nie Huaisang isn’t even trying to hide that something is wrong.

As for Lan Xichen himself, he feels too keenly the pain of disappointment. While Lan Wangji does appear to be a powerful young cultivator, and strong willed for his age, Nie Mingjue and Lan Qiren were still his superiors. The only reason he resisted where they gave in, Lan Xichen suspects, is because Nie Huaisang has more faith in Lan Wangji’s strength of spirit than in his, creating a weakness in his powers.

“Explain,” Lan Wangji demands, and Nie Huaisang obeys without hesitation.

Not only does he not hesitate, but Nie Huaisang appears sincerely relieved to share his secret as he retells the way he ran away, how he became lost and unknowingly made a deal with a god who then took human form.

Lan Wangji listens, glances over Lan Xichen, and frowns.

“He looks like me. Why?”

From being merely a little nervous, Nie Huaisang panics at the question with such intensity that it nearly makes Lan Xichen physically sick. For a torturous second there is no more belief sustaining him, replaced by a terror that cannot feed him. It doesn’t last longer than a heartbeat before Nie Huaisang pulls himself together and laughs awkwardly, but Lan Xichen is left shaken.

“Well, I ran away because I felt so lonely and unappreciated, right?” Nie Huaisang explains. “And I wanted to not feel alone. And so I thought of you, because I…”

He hesitates, his entire face flushed red. For the second time in just moments, Lan Xichen feels Nie Huaisang’s belief waver, replaced by a sentiment entirely directed toward Lan Wangji.

“I think of you as my best friend,” Nie Huaisang miserably lies, “so of course I wanted someone like you at my side.”

Hit by a sudden realisation, Lan Xichen stares at the young man who gave him a chance to live again. With parts of Nie Huaisang modelled after Lan Wangji, of course Lan Xichen knew already there had to be some attraction involved. But this isn’t mere attraction that he is witnessing. 

Instead, Nie Huaisang is in love with Lan Wangji.

That discovery alone is already painful. In their short time together Lan Xichen has become quite fond of Nie Huaisang and has seen nothing in him that could make him fear the ‘marriage’ part of their deal. To find that he has a rival, one of true flesh and blood, one who doesn’t need the world explained to him, who can read and write and do all those things that matter so much to Nie Huaisang, is like being stabbed in the guts.

But things only get worse when Lan Wangji, so impassible thus far, huffs ever so slightly at Nie Huaisang and smiles at him with all the warmth his nature allows him.

It might not be love yet, but fondness is a first step in that direction.

Meaning that Nie Huaisang might never have needed Lan Xichen and just didn't know it yet.

"Nie gongzi always makes things interesting," Lan Wangji placidly comments, which Nie Huaisang appears to take as criticism, while Lan Xichen suspects it to be a compliment. "I will allow this person to remain." 

"Really ? Wangji, that means lying!" 

"Hm. This person is meant to be my older brother, correct?" 

Nie Huaisang again panics, explains, apologises, but Lan Wangji's attention has shifted to his new brother. Under such a piercing gaze, Lan Xichen feels exposed, though he doesn't detect any bad feeling coming from Lan Wangji, only curiosity and a sharp flicker of hope. 

"He may stay," Lan Wangji repeats. "If he stays long, he will in some years announce that he steps down in my favour. Until then, this person may carry the title of heir." 

Silence falls for a long moment. Lan Xichen hasn't finished processing what this means (more effort, more lies, more pretending, all to fool not only this sect but also all others) when he notices that Lan Wangji is smiling again, while Nie Huaisang starts howling with laughter. 

"Wangji! Lan gongzi! No, wait, it's Lan er-gonzi now, right? Either way, who knew you had it in you to be crafty! Dumping your responsibilities on someone else like this… why, it sounds like something I would do!" 

"You are my friend," Lan Wangji soberly replies, though his eyes shine. "And a bad influence."

Nie Huaisang only laughs harder, joyful and free in a way Lan Xichen has never seen him. 

It might be good to look for new followers quickly, the god decides. Before this fountain of belief dries out as Nie Huaisang realises he already has everything he wished for, sending Lan Xichen back to the misery and despair of his old existence.

[catpella]

Avatar

FFXIV write prompt: Avatar.

Valle and Ysayle discuss Shiva.

2022 words. Set during early Heavensward Road Trip. Early ship signs definitely visible.

From the first, Valle wondered what it was like to be Shiva.

The first time she watched Lady Iceheart transform, her heart nearly stopped in awe, so overcome by what she was watching that she had no ability to. She watched as the aetherical power of the gathered crystals was pulled into Iceheart's body, as large shards of ice wrapped themselves around her and encased her as she spoke, as the night sky rippled and auroras blossomed in the heavens as the world remade itself in that location, and as it transfigured and remade her. Ice swept the arena and turned a flesh-and-blood woman into what appeared to be ice-made-flesh, skin and hair varying shades of ice in hue.

The primal hovered before them, and the part of her mind that was still analytical noted the deep blue of the hands contrasting with the paler skin and how the hair narrowed into crown spikes of ice, and wondered if it was just coloration or texture as well. She radiated lethality and beauty in equal amounts, and for the first time, Valle understood why people would worship primals.

This being drew her in a way she had not been drawn to Leviathan, or Garuda, or any other primal she'd faced. She yearned to step closer, to be embraced by ice, to feel that aether stir around her.

Was this tempering?

It couldn't be. She had the Echo. She could not be tempered.

Could she be? The other primals she'd faced had been shaped by minds and hearts of the beast tribes, not by those of the main Spoken races, those who believed in the Twelve. And this being before them, clad in ice and full of righteous conviction, could well be a reflection of the Fury herself. Was that why she was swaying towards her, step by step, drawn in?

"Primal's active! Summon your carbuncle and fight," hissed a familiar voice from down and to her left. Broken from her trance, Valle startled, and switched to the fight, where the blizzard battered and beat her.

After the fight, when she laid in a camp with some fellow primal-slayers who worked for the Scions, her dreams were full of ice, and snow, of being battered by the primal that changed the ice into weapons to fling at her, and of course, of the woman who effortlessly controlled it all. When she woke, she sat near the fire with her journal, and wondered what kind of woman had the convictions and faith to use herself as a primal. To talk about her desire for resolving the war, that no sacrifice would be too great, to make of herself a sacrifice to the energies of a primal... What type of person was Iceheart? Valle yearned to understand the woman who could channel the power of primals, and didn't understand why her desire was so strong.

~*~

Months later, Lady Iceheart began to travel with the small group. She slowly ceased to be Iceheart and became Ysayle. Traveling with the woman whose powers had haunted her thoughts both sleeping and waking meant Valle's wondering about her had the chance to be answered, but she didn't want to come across like Alphinaud, incessantly asking questions about people's abilities with no regard for their feelings. So she watched Ysayle as they traveled, casting glances at her when she thought she wasn't looking, watching how she handled threats when they had to fight hostile wildlife, seeing how ice aether stirred around her.

"What does it feel like, to be Shiva?" was constantly on her mind, but she kept it from her lips, and instead engaged Ysayle in other types of conversation in the quiet nights of camping. Valle told stories of where she came from, of growing up on Vylbrand's shores and swimming like a fish. Then as they climbed into Dravania and further mountainsward, she told stories of what she remembered of living in Gyr Abania, contrasting the different mountainscapes. Talking about a lost homeland triggered Ysayle to discuss bits and pieces of her life before Ishgard and Coerthas fell to the snow with Valle.

"There's something else you want to talk about, isn't there?" Ysayle asked her one night, when the others had gone to bed and Valle was sitting the watch alone with only a carbuncle for company. "I see how you watch me."

Valle briefly considered a flirtatious joke. She _did_ find Ysayle, the woman, beautiful and compelling. Would have even if she didn't carry the Echo, Hydaelyn's blessing, and the power to become a primal but not one enthralled and subverted. But she suspected if she said, that she'd be in a different type of trouble with the lady. Asking about her abilities felt the safer option.

"I wonder about your magic," she said.

"About how I channel Shiva, without losing myself."

"Yes. How it is that you can pull the aether from the crystals into yourself, how you can manifest the Shiva ideal without losing your will, if it is the blessing we both bear that lets you do it without being subsumed... I've fought several primals that beast tribes summoned, creating them out of aether and them dissipating away. You're the first to enact one within yourself, and it just...fascinates me." She reached out and stroked her hand over the emerald carbuncle as she spoke, voice faltering as she worried she was being Alphinaud.

"So many questions," Ysayle said, pale eyes glinting a more greenish hue from the carbuncle's light. "I have no answers for you, for I don't think of it in such a _scientific_ way."

"You were taught to summon. I assumed it was at least somewhat scientific in the instructions. And I'm an arcanist, I can't quite help the scientific approach," she said a little ruefully.

"I was shown how to pull the aether into myself to empower the change," Ysayle corrected her. "Actually becoming Shiva... it's a matter of faith. I know of Saint Shiva. I believe in her. And then I become her, joining her will with mine."

"You see yourself as an avatar of her? Or as a vessel?" Valle asked.

"Do you see them differently?"

"Yes..." she said, then added, "a vessel is hollowed out and made into the puppet of another's will, an avatar takes that power and embodies it with control."

"What an interesting distinction. Empowered or powerless." Ysayle's voice was suddenly icy.

Valle stared at the Elezen woman who had gone suddenly cold, mentally imposing Shiva's countenance over her face, seeing the similarities and differences. "I apologize if I've insulted you."

"I know you're just trying to understand it. I just can't help you," Ysayle said. "I have faith in Shiva, and it carries me through. That's all I need."

"Faith..." Valle repeated under her breath.

"What do you believe in?" Ysayle asked, after the silence had lingered long enough that Valle assumed the conversation was over.

"You're not the first to ask me that. Gaius Baelsar asked if I believed in Eorzea, in the Twelve, if they were primals."

"And what did you say?"

"Nothing. There was a fight going on," she said dryly.

"And do you?"

"I don't believe they're primals." If she looked at it logically, maybe they could be, but - she'd been raised in her faith in Rhalgr and He was not a primal who took from the land and the people and gave nothing back, not like Ifrit.

"Do you think someone could be an avatar of them?"

"I never really thought about it," she admitted.

"If someone could be an avatar of Halone, why not an avatar of a Saint?"

Valle sucked air through her teeth, not expecting Ysayle to have turned the questioning around on her like this. "I'm not sure."

"Seems like you have some faith of your own, even if you're not clear on it. You know what I think? That you ask how I become Shiva not just because you want to understand it from a scientific reasoning, to break it down into your equations," she said with a nod at Valle's grimoire, "but because you want to know if it's from our blessing. You want to know if you could do it too."

Valle hadn't been thinking of that consciously. She wanted to understand primal summoning to stop it, like the Scions' mission was for. Knowing the difference between Shiva, and Ramuh, and Leviathan and Ifrit, would be able to tell them so much. Thinking about _her_ becoming a conduit for that aether and power hadn't been on the agenda.

And yet, if you understood how it was done, didn't it mean you could do it yourself? In times of need?

Ysayle leaned forward, more animated now. "What would you sacrifice yourself for? What cause do you believe in above all else?"

"The pursuit of knowledge. The preservation of the world. Peace between warring factions," she said, but her voice was weak and unconvinced, and they both heard it.

"Not strong enough to use the power. You have to _mean_ your cause with all your heart, to pursue it at all costs, to be willing to lay down anything for it," and now Ysayle had become Iceheart and her eyes shone a more unearthly silver as she spoke. "Until you know that, you understand nothing of becoming an avatar, even if you had it dissected into a hundred of your tidy equations."

"You're right," Valle said. She felt ashamed that her conviction was weak, embarrassed to be so thoroughly taken to task, and the desire to look away from the intense gaze of the fervent woman before her was strong.

But there was a compelling counter-desire to keep staring at her and drinking in the power that radiated from her, not the ice aether that lashed out when Ysayle was Iceheart was Shiva, but the intensity of belief that made her radiant like the moon, luminous and impossible to stare away from.

"I wish I was like you," she blurted.

The moment passed, the fervor fading and the zealot becoming just another woman looking up into the sky as she laced her fingers together and cracked her knuckles, the pop echoing loudly in the quiet night air.

"It's not easy," Ysayle warned her.

"Being Hydaelyn's chosen never is. She picked us both for a reason. At least you know what yours is," Valle said.

The Elezen reached out and brushed her fingers across the carbuncle sitting between them. Goosebumps raced up the Roegadyn's arms as though her skin was what had been touched, to Valle's great surprise, since there was no sensory feedback with her aetherical construct.

"There's a greatness in you, scholar. When you set your feet on the path you must walk and cannot be swayed from, you'll find it."

"I hope you're by my side, then. To show me what to do," Valle ventured.

Ysayle smiled down at the carbuncle as she splayed her fingers across its back. "If you believe in bringing a peaceful end to the war and not allowing the Ishgardians free reign to slaughter, then we walk the same path."

"Thank you for letting me ask questions."

"'Twas nothing. I'd rather answer you about the power than the young Sharlayan or the Azure Dragoon." Ysayle's lips quirked slightly.

"I'm glad I'm more pleasant than them," Valle said.

"You always will be. Now go to bed and end your watch. I'll take over," she said.

Valle meant to protest and stay up longer, but she yawned deeply. Offering a sheepish smile, she said, "Goodnight, Ysayle."

"Goodnight, Valle."

The Roegadyn desummoned her carbuncle and walked back to her sleeping bag, trying not to read over-much into how she had trembled at the sound of Ysayle's voice saying her name.

~*~

In her dreams that night, she stood again in the amphitheatre. The winter tempest raged, the snow pulled into a vortex by the warped currents of ice aether. But this time, rather than standing outside and being hurt by it, she was cradled by it, safe inside the eye as the blizzard lashed out at the foes.

[bandaged-writer]

“you are my soulmate.” || dazai

lyric prompts are still open ^.^

➤ Requested by: nonnie (I accidentally deleted the ask instead of saving it)

➤ Lyric prompt: "You are my soulmate."

➤ Pairing: Dazai x Reader

➤ Genre: fluff, romance, soulmate! AU, friends to lovers-ish(?)

➤ Warnings: none

➤ Word count: 2k

The remains of steam trickled down the foggy bathroom mirror while you were busy rubbing your wet hair dry, the smell of showering gel and shampoo lingering in your nose and relaxing your tense nerves. It had been quite the rough week at the agency; a couple of fights, tons of paperwork which your back hated you for and more than enough complaints from the neighbors about the noise and damage. Of course, you couldn't help but reward yourself with a nice, long shower.

Wiping the steam away from the mirror, you tilted your head at the monochromatic reflection staring back at you. There were no colors whatsoever, only a gloomy mix of black and white painted your world once again. Suddenly, you were reminded of the time your mother had told you about soulmates who would paint you a clear blue sky overtime, but what the hell was blue? What did it look like? You were already in your 20s, you doubted that your soulmate was close by - for all you knew, they could live across the globe or died already. Fate wasn't always kind, after all.

Shaking these memories away and wrapping a fluffy towel tightly around your torso, you finally stepped out of the comfort of your bathroom only to be greeted by a pouting mummy lazing around on your couch. "[Name]! Good that you finally finished your shower, the remote control isn't working anymore!" Dazai whined dramatically and held the defective device in his hands as if it had committed a felony. "I've been stuck having to watch a documentary about dogs! Dogs of all animals! Only your beauty can cure my eyes from what they had witnessed-"

Embarrassment heated your cheeks up while your hands were clutching your towel to your chest, your friend's words fell on deaf ears. "What the hell are you doing here?!" you yelled at the brunette and swung a trained leg at the suicidal man whose hand easily grabbed your bare ankle. "My sweet [Name], don't you know how lonely I am without a pretty lady to spend a Saturday with?," by then, you were already used to Dazai's flirty antics and only rolled your eyes at his sugar-coated words for they were nothing more but just that. "That gives you no right to break into my house while I'm showering!," you were beyond flustered, although even this wasn't exactly new. Dazai had seen you half naked numerous times over the course of your friendship and it had never gotten under your skin so deeply. "It's not breaking in when you showed me where the spare key is," a smug expression settled down on Dazai's handsome features as he showed you the glimmering key which was usually hidden in the flower pot in front of your door.

Just as you were about to give in, something weird happened.

For a moment, you could see Dazai's eye color, the shade of his hair and clothes. It was a mere flicker of faded paint filling your vision before your world went back to its monochromatic state and left you staring at your friend like a deer caught in headlights.

"Earth to [Name]," Dazai snapped his fingers in front of your eyes and whipped you back to reality where everything was very much black and white and not colorful. "Wait here, I need to get dressed," pulling your leg from Dazai's grasp, you made a run to your bedroom, slammed the door shut and let your back collide with the cool wood, small gasps leaving your lips as your breathing picked up in a horrifying realization.

The one person you were closest to made you see colors. The one person who knew you better than the back of his hand, knew every little flaw and imperfection and was the epitome of a suicidal womanizer.

No, it had to be a mistake. A simple miscalculation, a cheap trick of the eye. Yes, nothing but a mistake - you had heard of some people seeing colors from birth or they randomly gained the ability to see them without developing feelings towards anyone.

This would be a disaster.

_____________________

And oh boy, were you right.

With each passing day, the dreary monochromatic life you were used to, gradually disappeared and tainted your vision with colors you didn't want to see, because you could finally see that everything your co-workers had told you about Dazai was indeed true.

"What does Dazai look like?," doodling on a random sheet of paper and with coffee resting next to your computer, you threw the sudden question at Naomi who was one of the few people at the agency who could see colors. The ravenette raised a fine eyebrow, looking at you like you had lost your mind. "You don't suffer from long-term memory loss, do you?," a teasing cadence laced in her voice. Letting your body slightly slide down the chair, you leaned your head back against the furniture and pouted. "I know what he looks like! But like..what colors is he made up of?," it was a funny question - you considered Dazai your best friend and yet, you didn't know the color of his irises, of his coat, of the silly pendant he always carried around his neck. You wanted to see your friend.

Naomi's gaze softened at that, a tender curve finding home on her lips which made her eyes smile. It was a question so trivial that only few people worried about, and yet there you were, oblivious to the feelings that were so painfully obvious to everyone at the agency.

And so, Naomi told you about every color that was Dazai Osamu: from the black shoes, to the beige coat, to the blue pendant and his brown locks.

"I envy you for seeing so much more, Naomi."

Those words turned out to be a blessing and a curse alike.

On one hand, you could faintly make out the sparkle in Dazai's coffee-colored orbs but on the other hand, that sparkle was reserved for the pretty waitress of Uzumaki's whose hand he was currently holding, his mind smitten with the mere idea of committing a lover's suicide. You wish you wouldn't see them light up even though the color you saw was barely there, washed out.

"Would a fair maiden such as yourself allow me the honor of you accompanying me to the afterlife?," a moonstruck smile stretched Dazai's lips, his calloused thumb stroking the delicate knuckles of the waitress who remained unfazed by Dazai's attempt to woo her. It was a typical sight, yet why did it bother you? You had witnessed such scenes countless of times and even acted as the brunette's girlfriend just so he could get rid of another woman's unwanted affection. "Hmm, maybe if you have a life insurance," the waitress twinkled, clearly uninterested in Dazai's proposal.

You realized that not even a soulmate could tie Dazai down.

"Are you alright, [Name]?," Atsushi pulled your attention to the matter at hand which was assigning several cases to different colleagues, but even Atsushi could tell that you weren't really with him. He saw the way your gaze would travel to the counter where Dazai was keeping himself busy with the waitress, he noticed the way you'd only ever give him an occasional "mhm" or a short "yes".

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm good. Don't worry, Atsushi," you waved a dismissive hand in front of your face and put on the ghost of a smile which never reached your eyes.

"I was just thinking about how blue the sky is today."

_____________________

"Have you ever seen colors, Osamu?," mindlessly, you stared at the sake in the small cup held by your fingers, your body resting on Dazai's floor with the wall supporting your back. It was a lazy night of having a few drinks at the brunette's place, talking about anything that came to mind or letting silence and unspoken words fill the space.

Dazai effortlessly downed a shot and let the liquor burn his throat. At least, the drinks were less bitter with you around. "Well, have you?" Ah, that bastard once again avoided your question by asking his own and putting the spotlight on you. It was such a painfully obvious tactic to dodge personal questions, but it still worked every damn time. Or maybe you just needed to get some thoughts off your chest and run the risk of Dazai figuring out the secret you had only told Atsushi about.

"What do you think about it?," stupid how the two of you danced around the topic like it was poison which could bring death upon the both of you.

Sitting down opposite of you, Dazai scanned your face. The way your gaze was fixed on him like a magnet, the missing makeup, the slightly disheveled hair from work and the way your lips shone thanks to the lip balm you always carried with you. "You're a curious thing, aren't you?," a chuckle caressed your ears and you wished it was a bit more lighthearted, a bit less closed off. Dazai rested his elbow on his propped up knee in a lazy manner as he gathered his thoughts; it was something he had never talked about.

"I don't think I like the concept of a soulmate. After all, your soulmate can be dead or be against the beliefs you hold on to so tightly. It'd cause unnecessary conflict over and over again until both individuals grow tired of each other and eventually break up, no?," Dazai paused then sighed, his eyes drawn to the night sky outside. "Isn't it a bit mean to gift color only those who feel something like love towards someone?"

Those words were as bitter as the liquor scorching your throat, but could you really disagree? A soulmate was only a partner suggestion given by the universe and whatever created it. Many soulmates eventually got tired of one another, yet no one broke things off since having someone to come home to was comfortable. It was comfortable, but it was no longer love. "It is. I've been dying to see what colors you are," you admitted softly, hoping he couldn't tear through the lie and discover that you saw the color of the cut that he got from an earlier fight.

At that, Dazai smiled at you with tender eyes and tilted his head to the side, brown strands of hair framing his stupidly dreamy face. "Honestly? I've been wondering what your eye color is."

You swore the world just got more colorful.

_____________________

The day the colors reached their peak of vibrancy was the day your heart skipped a beat for the first time in quite a while.

In the background, you could hear Kunikida scolding Dazai and threatening to kill him with his own bony fingers jus because the brunette was trying to shove his reports to Atsushi. "I swear I'll make you see the end of your life!," the blond man yelled, clearly fed up with his colleague's antics and non-existent work ethics. "At least let me die with a beautiful woman by my side!"

You couldn't help the chuckle that left your lips. Their arguments never failed to squeeze a laugh out of your lungs even when you didn't feel like laughing at all. The agency was your safe place, it was your home.

"Oh, I spent an entire minute dealing with your crap although we should get going. Let's go, Dazai," Kunikida let go of his partner's collar, dusted off his pants like nothing happened and grabbed the keys for the car; no way in hell would he ever let the suicidal maniac drive, again. "Punctual as always, Kunikida," Dazai mock praised the blond and crossed his hands behind his head, a smile on his face.

"Ah, good luck, guys!," you called after Kunikida with quite the stack of paper in your hands and smiled up at Dazai who just..looked at you. You were about to tell him to hurry up and head out before Kunikida would scold him again, when he spoke in a hushed tone which was only meant to be heard by you.

"I like your lip balm. Red suits you."

[onebadwinter]

Magneto Tropes

Taken from here

Adaptation Dye-Job: In the comics, he has been shown to have had white hair for the vast majority of his adult life, presumably as a side-effect of his mutation. In the films, he's introduced with grey hair (though only because, lacking Comic-Book Time, the screenwriters had to make him the realistic age of a Holocaust survivor) and he has dark brown hair as a younger man in the prequels.

Adaptation Name Change: In the comics, his original name was Max Eisenhardt and Erik Lehnsherr was an alias. In the films Erik Lehnsherr is his real name and the alias he uses is Henryk Gurzsky. To be fair though, Max Eisenhardt was not revealed as his true comic book name until the 2008 miniseries X-Men: Magneto Testament, long after the first X-Men movie was released in 2000.

Adaptational Wimp: To varying degrees. Magneto's power set in the comics varies Depending on the Writer, but among his traditional powers are the ability to generate force fields and electromagnetic pulses, a resistance to telepaths and psychic attacks, and he's a genius in multiple scientific fields. In the film his powerset is scaled back to just control over metallic metals (though after Apocalypse's boost, he's capable of doing so on a global scale and maintaining a powerful forcefield), he needs his helmet to block out telepathy, and his scientific knowledge doesn't seem to be as extensive.

Affably Evil: With Xavier. They still play chess games together a good 40 years into their conflict with each other. Hell, if you are on his side, he is rather chatty and friendly to you.

Antagonist in Mourning: In X-Men: The Last Stand, he sincerely grieves over Xavier's death and cuts off his Dragon Pyro's irreverent talk about the deceased abruptly. As in most versions of X-Men, he and Xavier were very close friends who eventually found themselves on separate sides due to their ideological differences.

Anti-Hero:

Anti-Villain: Has an unquestionably sympathetic backstory and very good reason to believe that humans are out to eradicate the mutant race. However, he is a dangerous individual with few limits on his devotion and what must be done to ensure the survival of his kind. Even his best and oldest friend isn't safe from his extreme methods and beliefs.

The Atoner: Ian McKellen invokes this while discussing his character in the "Double Take: Xavier & Magneto" documentary on the X-Men: Days of Future Past Blu-Ray release."The Magneto that you see with me is a man of conscience, and a man with an unhappy life behind him. He's come through a great deal, and isn't taking on single-handedly, or even with the help of his Brotherhood, society as a whole. He's joined up again with his old friend, Professor X, and together, they're going to try to move things forward."

Badass Baritone: Both Ian McKellen and Michael Fassbender pull this off.

Badass Cape: Part of his supervillain outfit is his iconic crimson cape.

Played straight in Dark Phoenix, where he makes a point that the Phoenix is dangerous, but his methods involve injuring anyone who gets in his way as he tries to kill Jean.

Subverted in X-Men: First Class and X2: X-Men United, where he seems to join the heroes against a common foe, but is ultimately revealed to have ulterior motives and turns against them in the end.

Badass Longcoat: Magneto typically wears a long black coat in civilian attire, such as his appearance at the mutant hearings in the first film, the attempt to stop Mystique in X-Men: Days of Future Past, and his Roaring Rampage of Revenge in Dark Phoenix.

Berserk Button: Does not like people who 'just follow orders’. This is heavily implied to be because it was the excuse many Nazi officials gave for their actions during the Nuremburg trials.

Big Bad:

Big Bad Ensemble:

Big Brother Instinct: By the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis, he had already begun to view Charles as a brother figure. When the Blackbird spiraled out of control, Erik used his body to shield Xavier from injury, and he immediately halted his attack on the American and Soviet naval forces when Charles was shot. Even after they become enemies, Erik continously shows both respect and affection for Charles, consitantly referring to him as ‘Old Friend’. He was immensely saddened by his death in X-Men: The Last Stand, and deeply insulted by those who where disrespectful to him. He would also routinely put his own life on the line to help or save Charles, and the two kept very close in their later years, despite often being on opposing sides of the battle field.

Big Good: Old Magneto shares the role with Charles Xavier in X-Men: Days of Future Past, acting as the wise, protective mentor of the future team. This is in sharp contrast with his younger self, whose bigotry almost catapults the world into an even worse timeline than the one they are currently living in.

Byronic Hero: In X-Men: First Class—morally troubled, emotionally damaged, attractive, and very charismatic about his pro-mutant beliefs. Particularly to some of the impressionable younger characters like Mystique.

The Chessmaster: Invoked several times. He is seen playing Chess with Charles Xavier several times throughout the original trilogy, and references Chess during his attack on Alcatraz, to his benefit as Juggernaut was about to pull a Leeroy Jenkins and would have been depowered in the first wave had Erik not stopped him. Erik (stopping Juggernaut): In Chess, the pawns go first. (the defenders reveal their plastic dart guns filled with the cure serum, leading to the first wave of attackers getting depowered) Erik: Hmm, plastic. They've learned. That's why the pawns go first.

Color Motifs: He dresses up in various shades of red and purple.

Combat Tentacles: He can turn metal cables and pipes into such things, the most notable in X-Men: First Class when he uses a cable to snag the telepathy-blocking helmet and pull it off Shaw’s head, enabling Xavier to take control.

Composite Character: Has Juggernaut's helmet in this adaptation. This makes sense, as this Magneto's twisted, Cain and Abel relationship with Charles (Juggernaut's brother in the comics) is played to the hilt.

Cool Helmet: Wears his famous telepathy-blocking helmet. Technology wired into the helmet prevents telepathic intrusion, making Magneto difficult to control or impossible to find via Cerebro.

The Corrupter: Although he convinces Raven to accept her mutant appearance, he also pushes her into committing murder against human enemies and truly becoming Mystique. Charles believes Erik is a large influence for Raven leaving him.

Cultured Badass: He speaks several languages, passionately discusses philosophy, shows considerable knowledge of politics and foreign cultures, and enjoys the occasional game of chess with Xavier.

Curb-Stomp Battle: Dishes these out to Wolverine on a regular basis. Wolverine's metal skeleton makes him nigh-unstoppable against other opponents but is a huge liability going up against Magneto, who either immobilizes him or flings him away (or both) with ease every time they encounter each other as foes. Even when he faces a time-displaced Logan lacking the adamantium in his bones, Erik still dispatches him and nearly drowns him by impaling Wolverine with metal pipes and flinging him into a river.

Dark and Troubled Past: "Holocaust survivor" is about as dark and troubled as it gets.

Dark Messiah: In X-Men: Days of Future Past, his younger self prepares to kill Nixon while declaring mutant supremacy in front of a live broadcast.

Deadpan Snarker: The biggest one in the series, natch. X2: X-Men United is largely his snark-fest at everyone else's expense.

Death Glare: Young Magneto, portrayed by Fassbender, gives a calm murderous look killing the Nazis and Shaw, and also ripping a filling tooth from a banker in X-Men: First Class. Also, a good stare carrying the RFK Stadium towards the White House in X-Men: Days of Future Past.

Demoted to Dragon: He isn't the leader of the supervillain team in X-Men: Apocalypse; this time around, he plays second fiddle to Apocalypse.  He becomes The Starscream and pulls a Heel–Face Turn, though.

Determinator: In the '70s, he asks Logan how fighting him for years has worked out for him and Logan responds they're both "survivors" which only serves to motivate Erik to later demonstrate how much more powerful he is than the Wolverine later on when he runs metal pipes through his body and leaves him to drown, muttering contemptuously, "so much for survival."

Disappeared Dad: To Quicksilver. Despite them sharing a few scenes and Quicksilver entering the plot of X-Men: Apocalypse just to find him, Magneto shows no signs of recognizing him.

Dissonant Serenity: He's disturbingly calm, even cheerful, during the scene in the bar in Argentina, just before he murders three ex-Nazi's.

Doesn't Like Guns: His younger self uses guns when he needs to, while the older Magneto sneers at them. This is partly because of his background as a holocaust survivor, and partly because humans rely on guns to fight, and he sees it as a sign of their inferiority. Of course, that's a bit hypocritical when he has the power of magnetism, and those who don't possess such an advantage have to defend themselves somehow.

Do Unto Others Before They Do Unto Us: His motive in almost every movie is to wipe out humanity before they can do the same to mutantkind.

Emotional Powers:

Enemy Mine:

Even Bad Men Love Their Mamas: Despite all that he's done, his love for his mother is one of his defining characteristics. Unfortunately, it's also the reason why he killed Shaw in cold blood, truly becoming Magneto.

Even Evil Has Loved Ones: He does care deeply for certain characters - in the prequel films most obvously for Charles and Mystique. The memory of the good times he and Charles shared in their youth is enough to make him turn on Apocalypse, while Hank informing him of Mystique's death at Jean's hands sends him on a Roaring Rampage of Revenge.

Even Evil Has Standards: Magneto always considered Xavier a friend and never wanted him dead. In X3 when Pyro says he would have done so if Magneto ordered it, Magneto is clearly angered at the idea. Whatever their qualms, neither wanted the other dead.

Evil Former Friend: Naturally while remaining on Friendly Enemy terms with Charles Xavier, the X-Men and Brotherhood are at great conflict in the majority of films regardless.

Evil Genius: With truly amazing schemes. In X-Men: Days of Future Past, he was able to steal a file containing the details of the Sentinels, after reading it over he was somehow able to reprogram them while inserting metal tracks within the bodies.

Extra-ore-dinary: His impressive mutant ability to control metal. Guns are a joke to him and throughout the films he's accomplished feats capable of lifting a submarine from water, the Golden Gate Bridge, and the RFK Stadium, the last without showing any real sign of effort. In X-Men: Apocalypse thanks to Apocalypse's enhancement he's shown ripping practically every metallic structure on the planet apart via control of the world's magnetic field and with Jean, putting the Xavier Institute back together from scratch.

Fantastic Radiation Shielding: His helmet protects him from various mutants' psychic powers.

Faux Affably Evil: If you aren't on his side, he can be downright terrifying and still sound unfailingly polite. When Pyro expresses disappointment that he wasn't the one to kill Professor X, Magneto gives him a rather grandfatherly talking-to...with an unspoken, but very real assurance that the next ill words Pyro speaks of Charles Xavier would be his last.

First-Name Basis: In the films, just like in the comics, he and Charles Xavier always use their first names when speaking to or about each other. Only a handful of others are on a first-name basis with them.

Foil:

Freudian Excuse: A former victim of the Holocaust believing humanity will subjugate mutants the same way.

Friendly Enemy: To Charles Xavier. Their relationship stretches the definition of "friendly" about as far as it will go but it's there. They have the utmost respect for one another and used to be close companions but just about every differing point between them comes from a place of vitriolic and passionate division (to the point both refuse to see a future where the other's point of view can exist, it is a mutually exclusive matter of black-and-white difference in opinion).

The Fundamentalist: Without a doubt believes mutants are the superior species and humans will fight against their extinction.

Gaining the Will to Kill: When he meets Raven in X-Men: Days of Future Past, he appears noticeably distressed before picking up a gun and apologizing then claiming mutants will never be safe with her alive before shooting at her.

Heel–Face Revolving Door: His moral standing across the films has variously been Nominal Hero, Anti-Hero, Anti-Villain, The Atoner, and Well-Intentioned Extremist. Magneto is rarely a straight villain and even more rarely a straight hero, but in the meantime he wavers all the way between the two.

Helmets Are Hardly Heroic: In Dark Phoenix, he starts off as a neutral figure, and then dons his trademark helmet when he becomes an antagonist shortly afterward. He teams up with the X-Men at the beginning of the third act right after his helmet is destroyed in a fight.

Heterosexual Life-Partners:

He Who Fights Monsters:

Hijacked by Ganon: He has a tendency to hijack the plans of the villains of the films in retaliation against them.

Hoist by His Own Petard: Invokes this on so many occasions, such as threatening dozens of policemen with their own guns,  using Dark Cerebro to kill all humans after it was just used in an attempt to kill all mutants, as well as killing multiple soldiers by pulling off the pins on their grenades, hurling missiles at ships that just fired them, and  using the Sentinels during the DisasterousDemonstration in the past to attack the spectators.

Humans Are Bastards: Believing humans will continue to grow and despise mutants he maintains this belief. Though it doesn't really help his case when he keeps doing actions that make people fear him.

Hypocrite:

Magneto is responsible for the main conflict in X-Men, as he intends to sacrifice Rogue to power a machine capable of turning normal humans into mutants, but is unaware that the artificial mutations are unstable and will kill the affected.

In X-Men: The Last Stand, Magneto builds an army and prepares to attack Alcatraz island, where a cure for mutations is being developed. His efforts lead him to recruit the unstable Phoenix, who goes on a rampage during the film's climax and causes countless deaths.

Magneto shares the antagonistic role with Stryker in X2: X-Men United, but their goals are opposite of each other: the former intends to use the machine called Dark Cerebro to rid the world of normal humans, whereas the latter intends to do the same to the mutants.

Trask, Mystique and a younger version of Magneto are the main villains of X-Men: Days of Future Past. Trask invented the Sentinels, mutant-hunting machines that turned the world into an apocalyptic dystopia. Mystique goes on trying to get revenge on Trask by killing him after seeing the pictures of her deceased fellow mutants. Magneto opposes both Mystique and Trask by promoting his own ideals of supremacy, which only serve to amplify humanity's fear of mutants and push the Sentinel program forward.

In X-Men: First Class upon seeing the mansion Charles grew up in.Erik: Honestly Charles, I don't know how you survived living in such hardship.

In the original X-Men, when Magneto has the X-Men trapped and bound within the Statue of Liberty, he points out a foolish tactical error on Scott's part with withering contempt.Cyclops: Storm, fry him! Magneto: Oh yes, a bolt of lightning into a huge copper conductor. I thought you lived at a school.

He also really enjoys mocking Wolverine in general.Magneto: Why do you always think it's all about you?

In X-Men: First Class, he is originally only able to use his powers when extremely angry. The first two times, it involves maternal separation. However, he can't properly focus it until Charles coaches him to concentrate on happier emotions.

In X-Men: Apocalypse, his power hike into Physical God territory is initially assumed to be Apocalypse enhancing him like the other Horsemen, but Charles contradicts this, contemptuously asserting that all Apocalypse has done is tap into his rage and pain.

X2: X-Men United: He and Mystique team-up with the X-Men to stop a human villain from killing all mutants. Right up until he decides to invert the attack and have all the non-Mutants killed instead.

X-Men: Days of Future Past: He and Xavier unite against the Sentinels that threaten all of mutantkind with extinction. Although he ends up attempting his own plans for mutant superiority and, ironically enough, winds up jeopardizing the plan to save mutantkind.

Dark Phoenix: Magneto initially attempts to kill Jean for killing Mystique, but he and his lieutenants join forces with the X-Men to fight the D'Bari when they come for the Phoenix Force in the climax.

In X-Men: Days of Future Past, while the public and most other characters refer to him and Raven (Mystique) by their mutant code names, Charles and Hank still remain on a first name basis with both of them, and vice versa. This is also presumably true for Alex, who still addresses his former ally as Erik.

X-Men: First Class: He and Charles are juxtaposed in their respective Argentinian bar and Oxford pub scenes. The sober Lehnsherr is all business when he's hunting down Nazis, and he murders three men (including the bartender) in cold blood after taunting his prey. The inebriated Xavier is the life of a party when he and his fellow graduate students celebrate the successful defense of his PhD thesis, and he later tries to flirt with Agent MacTaggert. Producer Bryan Singer gives a very basic summary of their differences in the "Magneto the Survivor" featurette:"Ultimately, they come from different places. Erik Lehnsherr is a victim of the Holocaust, he probably left the war with nothing, and is very much a solitary man, while Xavier had a life of privilege, became a professor at Oxford, was surrounded by peers, has an intimate relationship with Mystique since childhood, so he's quite loved, and therefore quite idealistic, less embittered, and just has a very different view from Lehnsherr."

X-Men: Days of Future Past:

Both past and future Magneto contrast each other in the film. 1973 Magneto continues to move forward with mutant supremacy and attacking Charles and his group, while future Magneto was fighting to protect both mankind and mutants while lamenting his pointless struggles with Charles in their younger years. Past Erik is very much on his own, but his elderly counterpart is a valuable team member.

Past Magneto and Past Xavier were both inactive and isolated in between 1963 and 1973 (the former due to imprisonment, the latter due to depression). Erik shows signs of wanting to repair some of their previous friendship, but a bitter Charles isn't interested for the most part. Magneto tries to kill Mystique while Xavier tries to protect her. Hank remains unwaveringly devoted to Charles, but Erik loses Mystique's loyalty after the murder attempt. In X-Men: First Class, Erik personified "rage" while Charles embodied "serenity," but their roles are reversed in 1973. Xavier is now the one who is full of pain and anger, and therefore has great trouble wielding his telepathy, whereas Magneto is (relatively) calm and controlled, still possessing great mastery over his power despite being deprived of metal for a decade. (We even see Erik adopt a meditation pose in his prison cell, which makes him appear Zen-like.)

Wolverine and the younger Magneto are violent individuals who love Xavier, but whereas Jerk with a Heart of Gold Logan possesses Undying Loyalty towards Charles, Jerk with a Heart of Jerk Erik is quick to betray him, until he finally does the reverse and pulls a Heel–Face Turn in X-Men: Apocalypse.

X-Men: Apocalypse: After he loses his family, he's in so much grief that he's willing to follow Apocalypse, who convinces Erik that he's God, and God has granted Magneto a divine purpose.

The version of Magneto from the second timeline in particular embodies this trope, having changed sides eight separate times over the course of the series.note

Considering that his and Charles' friendship only lasted a couple months, at most, in X-Men: First Class, it was unusually intimate on an emotional level.

Played straight in X-Men: Days of Future Past, with his older self and Professor X (the moment where they're holding hands is the closest that we've seen them since First Class), but averted with their younger selves. In 1973, Charles never once calls him "friend" (although Erik uses the endearment twice), which goes to show how broken their relationship is.

X-Men: Director Bryan Singer explains in the September 2000 issue of SFX:"...the paradox in Magneto's character is that he was the victim and then becomes the aggressor. It's like he's slowly become these people who persecuted him and murdered his family right in front of him. He became embittered. You get angry enough and you start forgetting."

X-Men: First Class: He hates Shaw and wants to kill him, but he eventually embraces Shaw's beliefs about mutant supremacy. It's even spelled out through the villain wearing the same helmet that Magneto is associated with. Justified at the crucial moment because he separates revenge from his ideals, which is why he's able to compliment Shaw's vision while still hating the man to his core. Shaw the man wronged him terribly, but Shaw the visionary is inspirational.

X2: X-Men United: After stopping Stryker's plan to kill all mutants with a fake Cerebro, he decides to reprogram the machine to kill regular humans instead.

X-Men: Days of Future Past: Young Magneto hijacks the Sentinels to attempt killing both Bolivar Trask and President Nixon.

X-Men: First Class features a variation: once Erik kills Shaw, he basically embraces his evil nature and attempts to wipe out the American and Soviet fleets.

Despite claiming to help his fellow mutants, Magneto has no qualms on attacking and even killing other mutants who stand in the way of his anti-human crusade.

Magneto is motivated by his memories of enduring the Holocaust during World War II and believes mutants will be subjected to the same treatment as the Jews in Nazi Germany if they do not fight back. This leads to him falling victim to He Who Fights Monsters, becoming a genocidal racist just as bad as the Nazis.

In X-Men, he is willing to sacrifice Rogue but not himself in the advancement of his cause. Beautifully called out by Wolverine, who tells him: "You're so full of shit. If you were really so righteous, it would be you up in that thing." Erik levitates away without replying, but the expression on his face makes it clear the remark hit home.

At the climax of X-Men: Days of Future Past, his past-self sics a Sentinel on Wolverine and Beast, after a grand speech about how he will protect mutantkind.

In Dark Phoenix he tells Jean about the futility of killing for revenge, and how it never made the pain he felt go away. Then, when he finds out Jean killed Mystique, he almost immediately decides to kill her in revenge - though that could simply be the difference between knowing it intellectually and his emotional reaction.

   I-Y

Improvised Weapon: As long as it's metal, Magneto's powers let him use anything as a weapon. He has killed people with such things as a coin and a locket.

I Did What I Had to Do: In X-Men: Days of Future Past, he tells Raven he tried to kill her because he was aware of the impending Sentinel menace and came to the conclusion that the only way to prevent it would be if she was permanently dispatched.

I Hate Past Me: In X-Men: Days of Future Past right before Kitty sends Wolverine back in time, he worries that his and Charles' past-selves won't understand the nightmarish situation in the Bad Future and be able to fix things. Erik: It's not [Wolverine] I'm worried about, it's us. We were young, we didn't know any better.

Ineffectual Loner: Was one in X-Men: First Class until Charles convinced him he could do better with friends of his own, and in the ending he begins building his brotherhood of mutants.

I Was Quite a Looker: He was a classic example of Tall, Dark, and Handsome when he was a young man (and he has aged gracefully over the years).

Jerkass Has a Point: He did make the fair point towards Charles that he grew up with Raven, and shouldn't have entirely claimed responsibility for raising her, which did in part drive her away from him.

Just the Way You Are: In X-Men: First Class, he is able to persuade Raven to his side finding her mutant appearance to be "perfection" in contrast to Charles and Hank, who feel she should look more "normal" to gain acceptance within society.

Karma Houdini:

Kick the Son of a Bitch: Some of his victims include Nazis, Sebastian Shaw and the corrupt, violent slob in charge of his prison cell. He also chained William Stryker back up and left him to die at the end of X2: X-Men United.

Knight Templar: Wants to stop mutant prejudice... by subjugating humans.

Lean and Mean: Magneto seems to have little-to-no fat on his body. It makes sense, given that he's a Holocaust survivor who spent his early life on the road.

Loner-Turned-Friend: In X-Men: First Class when he met Charles Xavier and his group.

Made of Iron: His younger self is quite capable of taking a beating. In X-Men: First Class he gets thrown off a boat by Emma Frost in diamond form and was being thrown across a room by Shaw crashing into mirrors. In X-Men: Days of Future Past, he took head injuries from Beast and nearly drowned before restraining him only needing a head stitching after - a head stitching he performed himself while examining the schematics of the Sentinel's and without even twitching at the pain. His older self also survived a blast from Cyclops in the first film, and in X-Men: Days of Future Past continued to protect the group from the Sentinels with a shard having pierced his abdomen.

Manipulative Bastard: Best demonstrated as he convinces Pyro and in the prequel series, Raven, to defect to his side.

Meaningful Name: Erik means "ruler" and Lehnsherr can be roughly translated as "feudal lord" (lehn = fief, herr = master). Magneto's birth name betrays his ambition to rule over humans.

Mook Horror Show: Several films have him performing one.

Motive Rant: Delivers one to Senator Kelly after capturing him in X-Men.Magneto: Are you a god-fearing man, senator? That's such a strange phrase. I've always thought of God as a teacher, as a bringer of light, wisdom, and understanding; you see, I think what you really are afraid of is me. Me and my kind, the Brotherhood of Mutants. Though it's not so surprising really. Mankind has always feared what it doesn't understand. Well, don't fear God, Senator, and certainly don't fear me. (in an undertone) Not anymore.

My Greatest Failure: The death of Xavier in X-Men: The Last Stand, which he directly caused by awakening Dark Phoenix.Magneto: Charles Xavier did more for mutants than you'll ever know. My single greatest regret is that he had to die for our dream to live.

My God, What Have I Done?: X-Men: The Last Stand features him saying the line, when he finds himself on the other side of the Mutants vs. Humans war he's been pushing for, and Phoenix finally goes crazy and starts killing people.

Nazi Hunter: He spends the first twenty minutes or so of his screentime in X-Men: First Class tracking down and killing Nazis. In fact, his reason for joining the X-Men is so that he can find and kill Sebastian Shaw, the mutant Nazi who killed his mother.

The Needs of the Many: In X-Men: Days of Future Past.Erik: Forgive me Mystique, as long as you're out there we'll never be safe.

Never Be Hurt Again: He is both a Holocaust Survivor and mutant "lab rat" which pushes him towards Do Unto Others Before They Do Unto Us regarding mutant suppression by the humans.

New Era Speech: Gets one in Days of Future Past, delivered on national television before the Presidential cabinet.Magneto: You built these weapons to destroy us. Why? Because you are afraid of our gifts. Because we are different. Humanity has always feared that which is different. Well, I'm here to tell you, to tell the world, you're right to fear us. We are the future. We are the ones who will inherit this earth, and anyone who stands in our way will suffer the same fate as these men you see before you. Today was meant to be a display of your power. Instead I give you a glimpse of the devastation my race can unleash upon yours. Let this be a warning to the world. And to my mutant brothers and sisters out there, I say this; no more hiding, no more suffering. You have lived in the shadows in shame and fear for too long. Come out, join me. Fight together in the brotherhood of our kind. A new tomorrow, that starts today.

Nice Hat: Occasionally wears a fedora while in civilian garb, as shown in X-Men when he attends the hearing on mutants at the beginning of the film and in X-Men: Days of Future Past when he raids the vault for his helmet.

Nice Job Fixing It, Villain!: Attacking Mystique at the Paris Peace Conference bought Bolivar Trask a couple extra days and gets Nixon to fund the Sentinel program, but his betrayal and attack on the White House sets up a situation where a mutant is seen saving Nixon's life on live TV. Mystique performs a Heel–Face Turn, Nixon cancels the Sentinel program, and the Bad Future is averted.

Nightmare Fetishist: Everyone in X-Men: First Class, tells Raven that her true form as Mystique is horrifying, but Eric tells her that she is beautiful as she is, and that taking on a more normal looking appearance is wasteful of her powers, and limits her concentration against unexpected attacks. In X-Men: The Last Stand however, when Mystique shields Magneto from being struck by darts containing the Mutant Cure, he coldly abandons her now that she's human, regretfully telling Pyro that she used to be "so beautiful."

Noble Demon: At his fundamental core, Magneto wishes to protect innocent minorities from genocidal persecution at the hands of murderous racists, no matter what it takes.

Not So Different:

Outliving One's Offspring: His daughter is killed by Polish policemen in one of the most heartbreaking moments of the whole film franchise.

Overarching Villain: Magneto is the central antagonist of the first trilogy. In the prequels, he usurps the role of Big Bad from Shaw and Trask, before pulling a Heel–Face Turn at the very end of X-Men: Apocalypse. However, he comes to oppose the X-Men once again in the following film, only to ultimately join their battle against Vuk during the climax.

Parental Abandonment: His father is nowhere to be seen, and his mother is executed before him by Shaw to try and induce his magnetism powers.

Pet the Dog: He was the first person in Raven's life that complimented and truly admired her natural blue form. Also, upon reveal he compliments Hank, although it isn't met with a kind reaction from Beast, who believed he was being mocked.

Physical God: While always immensely powerful, he becomes this in X-Men: Apocalypse, being on the verge of tearing apart the planet (as one character puts it, "destroying everything built since the Bronze Age") while maintaining an impenetrable forcefield. Moreover, Charles implies that unlike the other Horsemen, Apocalypse didn't actually enhance him, he just tapped into his rage and pain, meaning that he had this potential all along.

Power Floats: Can fly by manipulating the Earth's magnetic field.

Pre-Mortem One-Liner: He delivers one to Sebastion Shaw as Charles holds control of Shaw's body."This is what we're going to do. [holds up the coin] I am going to count to three and I'm going to move the coin. One. [moves the coin towards Shaw's head] Two. Three." [puts the coin through Shaw's head, Charles screams].

Protagonist Journey to Villain: X-Men: First Class revolves around him seeking revenge for the murder of his mother and his increasing acceptance of mutant supremacy.

Red and Black and Evil All Over: His outfits typically have a lot of dark red and dark grey. The dark grey is accentuated in the older Magneto's costumes.

Red Oni, Blue Oni: In X-Men: First Class, he is rather hot-headed while Charles is more level-headed. ''Empire'' magazine even color-coded the front covers of their May 2011 issue accordingly.◊

Roaring Rampage of Revenge:

Rousing Speech: On several occasions he's persuaded mutants to follow his cause and fight along himself. Most notably, when he attacked the white house and on a live broadcast declared mutants come out of hiding because they are more powerful than the humans who would try to eliminate them. This is after he discredited the Sentinel program and held the president cabinet at gun point.

Sensitive Guy and Manly Man: In X-Men: First Class, he is the Manly Man to Charles' Sensitive Guy. They display this dynamic in their personalities (Anti-Hero vs. All-Loving Hero) and physique (Tall, Dark, and Handsome vs. Pretty Boy) as well as their philosophies and methods (Pay Evil unto Evil vs. Wide-Eyed Idealist).

Shut Up, Kirk!: Delivered one to Xavier in X-Men: First Class.Xavier: There are thousands of men on those ships. Good, honest, innocent men! They're just following orders. Erik: I've been at the mercy of men just following orders. Never again.

Slasher Smile: He sports a brief one when he rips iron from a guard's body in X2.

Slave Brand: The tattoo number of a Nazi concentration camp he carries upon his forearm, which he has brought attention towards to serve as a reminder for human cruelty.

At the end of X-Men United, he escapes after attempting to wipe out all non-mutants.

At the end of The Last Stand, he sneaks away when the Dark Phoenix awakens and realizes on his own that the effects of the mutant cure are only temporary.

In Apocalypse, he murders a bunch of policemen and creates a magnetic field that caused a lot of damage across the globe, but is let off the hook because he helped kill En Sabah Nur. However, this could be explained by the fact that he's so powerful at this point that there's way to reasonably contain him.

In Dark Phoenix he instigates a battle against the X-Men in the streets of New York, including his ripping a subway train out the ground and using it as a battering ram against the D'Bari stronghold, all in an attempt to kill Jean, but later fights alongside the X-Men to save her after Charles manages to sway him. By the end of the film he's openly wandering the streets of Paris without any repercussions, and even invites Xavier to come to Genosha with him.

The Nazis at the bar in First Class.

The security guards in Days of Future Past when he reclaims his helmet, done while sharply dressed wearing shades and a fedora.

And in Apocalypse, he does it again to the policemen sent to bring him in after one of them accidentally kills his wife and daughter. With a locket.

In X-Men: First Class, when he confronts the villain Sebastian Shaw at the end: Erik Lehnsherr: If you're in there, I'd like you to know that I agree with every word you said. We are the future. But unfortunately, you killed my mother.

In X2: X-Men United, the first thing he does when he gets inside the second Cerebro? Instructs Jason Stryker to simply reverse the polarity on Professor X's mental attack to target humans instead of mutants rather than free Charles from Jason's mind control.

In X-Men: First Class, he hunts down Shaw and his Nazi underlings to exact revenge for the death of his mother. He succeeds in giving the latter ones horrific deaths, but is effortlessly defeated by Emma Frost when he tries to do the same to the former.

In X-Men: Apocalypse, he uses his family medallion to slaughter the whole Polish police squad that has been sent to arrest him after they killed his daughter and wife by accident. He then goes on to kill his co-workers at the steel plant after one of them denounced him. Apocalypse arrives just as Erik was about to kill them, and sucks them all into the floor.

In Dark Phoenix, after learning that Jean killed Raven in a case of Power Incontinence, he immediately grabs his old helmet and heads to New York to get revenge.

Slowly Slipping Into Evil: In the original trilogy, Magneto starts out as a Well-Intentioned Extremist bent on turning regular humans into mutants. Come X2, he instead wishes to commit genocide against mankind, but still cares about mutant lives. But he is at his worst in The Last Stand, where he recklessly chooses to sacrifice his troops in Alcatraz, comparing them to the pawns in a Chess game.

The Social Darwinist: He believes mutants are the superior species towards humans.

Start of Darkness: X-Men: First Class devotes itself to his gradual transformation into the human-hating supremacist he is today, courtesy of his past as a Holocaust survivor and his affinity with Shaw's ideology.

Stealth Pun: Michael Fassbender kept his natural auburn hair for the role in X-Men: First Class and X-Men: Days of Future Past, which makes him... Erik the Red.note

Super Reflexes: In X-Men: First Class, he's fairly confident he can stop a bullet shot point blank from his head. Later, he more or less holds true to his claim by stopping a horde of missiles fired by the US and Russian army within several feet from the air to him, and deflecting bullets while being shot at by Moira MacTaggert.

Sympathetic Murderer: In First Class, his target being Shaw, who killed his mother and tortured him.

Tailor-Made Prison:

Tall, Dark, and Handsome: In his youth, as shown in the First Class trilogy.

Team Dad: In X-Men: First Class he was the more stern and less nurturing parental figure for the proto X-Men, opposite Charles' Team Mom. This is what makes the "Beach Divorce" scene so much more tragic.

Team Member in the Adaptation: He was never a Horsemen in the comics. This version also forms the Brotherhood by taking control of the Hellfire Club after killing Shaw.

That Man Is Dead:Xavier: Erik, don't join them. Magneto: Whatever it is you think you saw in me, I buried it with my family.

Time-Shifted Actor: He has been portrayed by four actors in three note different stages of his life.

Tired of Running: Inspires mutant followers to stop hiding and accept themselves, while turning on the humans who would target them.

Too Happy to Live: His life in Poland in Apocalypse looks too happy to last as he is spotted and unmasked by authorities and both his wife and daughter die tragically.

Took a Level in Badass: In First Class after Charles unlocks his full potential and in Apocalypse when the titular character gives him a boost.

Tragic Keepsake: When he first met Sebastian Shaw, he was asked to move a Nazi Coin in exchange for his mother's life but was unable to do so and she was murdered. He carried the coin for most of his life until he moved it through Shaw's head, killing him.

Tragic Villain: Possibly the archetypal example.Charles: Listen to me very carefully my friend... killing Shaw will not bring you peace.Erik: Peace was never an option.Erik: Is this what you want from me?! Is this what I am?

Tranquil Fury: In X-Men: First Class, his powers are manifested through anger, until Charles helps by telling him "true focus lies somewhere between rage and serenity."

Traumatic Superpower Awakening: Shaw had Erik awaken control of his magnetism by murdering his mother.

Troubled, but Cute: In X-Men: First Class, pre-supervillainy, he is a Nazi-hunting Byronic Hero with an intensely Dark and Troubled Past (involving the Holocaust, loss of his parents, and being a victim of human experimentation) and bucketloads of trauma and cynicism. He also wears a leather jacket on a few occasions.

Villain Has a Point: Magneto believes humans and mutants can never co-exist and fears the crimes of the Holocaust will be repeated against mutants one day. The Bad Future in Days of Future Past shows he's absolutely right; humans have created the Sentinels to hunt down and exterminate mutants, who are being herded into camps to be killed or experimented on en masse. Far before then, however, in First Class the U.S. and Soviet fleets open fire on the assembled mutants at Cuba simply because they are mutants, making no distinction between the ones that just fought to save them and the ones that were trying to kill them. Even when mutants do things right by humans (Mystique saving President Nixon in Days of Future Past), humans still screw them over, as shown in Logan when the mutants are on the verge of extinction again.

Villainous Legacy: He ends up killing Shaw out of revenge, but he fully agrees with Shaw's goal; that is, Mutants needing supremacy over humans to thrive, and carries it over from him.

Visionary Villain: He wants to create a world safe for mutants by any means necessary.

The Unfettered: If it means the safety of mutants he'll kill anyone from the President or even Mystique.

Was It Really Worth It?: His future self ultimately regrets fighting Charles for so long, and wishes he had some of those years back.

We Can Rule Together: An open door he extends to any mutant willing to see things his way, all the way up to and including Professor Xavier himself. Some accept and the ones who don't usually swing to Xavier's point of view.

Well-Intentioned Extremist: He has always been the archetypal example in comics and the films faithfully live up to that. He puts forth a big effort to allow mutants to come out of hiding and gain acceptance of themselves but at the same time opposes humans who would threaten them, believing war is inevitable. His plan in X-Men, is actually rather benevolent and would finally end the division between Mutants and the rest of Mankind, while sacrificing only Rogue to make it work. It's a good plan (though not necessarily one that would work in the long run), it's just a shame his machine doesn't work!

We Used to Be Friends: The whole premise of X-Men: First Class is to show how he and Charles Xavier became friends and then ended up on opposite sides with different ideals.

What the Hell Are You?: In X-Men: First Class, we have the following conversation:Former Nazi Officer: [in German] Who—what are you?Erik: [in English] Let's just say I'm Frankenstein's Monster... and I'm looking for my creator.

What the Hell, Hero?: In X-Men: Days of Future Past, his past self goes into an outburst about how fellow mutants were being killed left and right while Young Charles has been in hiding with Hank. Erik: Angel, Azazel, Emma, Banshee. Mutant brothers and sisters, all dead! Countless others, experimented on! Butchered! Where were you, Charles?! We were supposed to protect them! Where were you when your own people needed you?! Hiding! You and Hank! Pretending to be something you're not! You abandoned us all!

Wicked Cultured: Mags always enjoy a good game of chess with Xavier or listening to classical music.

With Us or Against Us: Concerning the mutants who choose to fight with him or against him, namely the X-men.

Woobie, Destroyer of Worlds: Each film of the new timeline keeps piling on the trauma that fuels his rage. In First Class he was a Holocaust survivor who had to watch his mother die in front of his eyes, and worse, it was because he couldn't consciously use his powers at the time. In Days of Future Past the Brotherhood were killed and experimented on by Trask Industries. In Apocalypse, after giving living in peace a chance, his wife and daughter are killed after his cover is blown as a mutant. All of this leads to him becoming an extremist willing to kill countless numbers of people. Highlighted in X-Men: First Class and arguably even more so in X-Men: Apocalypse, since he's quite literally out to destroy the world.

Worthy Opponent: He and Xavier have this relationship. Magneto: Charles Xavier did more for mutants than you will ever know. My single greatest regret is that he had to die for our dream to live.

Would Hit a Girl:

Would Hurt a Child: In X-Men: The Last Stand, he orders Juggernaut to kill Leech.

You Are Number 6: In X-Men: First Class, he outs himself as a holocaust survivor to some Nazis he was amicably chatting with (and planning to kill). When they asked for the names of his parents, being from the same town, he answered that they "had no names—they were stolen from them" before showing his own concentration camp number. Violence ensues.

You Are What You Hate: He hates Nazis due to being a survivor of the Holocaust, but ultimately embraces racism against non-mutants, this is highlighted in X-Men: First Class.

You Killed My Father: In X-Men: First Class, when he kills Schmidt/Shaw despite agreeing with his Mutant Supremacist ideals because Schmidt killed his mother in front of him as a child.Magneto: I want you to know I agree with everything you just said. We are the future. But, unfortunately... you killed my mother.

Younger Than They Look: In X-Men: First Class, Erik is around the same age as Charles (late twenties/early thirties), but the former appears considerably older because Michael Fassbender looks older than his actual age (he has a lot of lines on his face) while the baby-faced James McAvoy looks younger despite there being a only two-year age gap between the two actors. This can be Handwaved as Erik ageing prematurely because of the trauma and starvation he experienced during World War II.

Also, an alias Magneto himself used once, during the "Trial of Gambit" debacle. And one a Shiar spy on Earth used. Not so much a Stealth Pun as a Mythology Gag.

As an older man, however, his reflexes have notably slowed, as shown X-Men: Days of Future Past, when it takes him several moments to respond to and restrain a thrashing Logan - long enough for him to gash Kitty - and he doesn't quite catch all of the X-Jet's shrapnel.

At the end of X-Men, Magneto is locked in a cell made entirely of plastic. He got out in X2: X-Men United, thanks to Mystique giving one of his guards an "iron supplement," actually at least half a pound of the stuff, in liquid form. In real life, this would have given him iron poisoning, but he didn't survive long enough to find that out.

Subverted in X-Men: Days of Future Past. The concrete cell under the Pentagon was not built specifically for him, but simply constructed that way because steel was being rationed at the time. It still holds him quite well, though.

X-Men: First Class: The film ends with him outright proclaiming that he prefers his new moniker: Magneto.

X-Men: Apocalypse: Charles pleads with him not to join Apocalypse, but Lehnsherr has already reclaimed his Magneto persona.

Even when he genuinely tries to find peace in X-Men: Apocalypse,  his family is killed triggering an epic Rage Against the Heavens moment.

X-Men: He forcibly places Rogue into his machine, knowing full well that it will kill her.

X-Men: First Class:

X-Men: Days of Future Past: He would have murdered Mystique if it weren't for Beast's timely intervention.

Dark Phoenix: He attempts to murder Jean when he learns she killed Mystique. Later on, he finds himself alone against Vuk on the Mutant Containment Unit's train, uses his power to pick up every remaining gun, and empties them all into her at point-blank range. Thanks to Vuk's innate Healing Factor and getting an upgrade from absorbing the Phoenix, she blows this off without a scratch.

He cracks Emma Frost's crystalline neck after she refuses to cooperate.

He nearly strangles Moira to death with her own military dog tags, although Xavier manages to talk him out of it.

[delightsan]

FLAME (II) | CS

⁕ genre: fuck boy!san, bad boy!au, college!au, fluff, angst, enemies to lovers

⁕ pairings: choi san x fem!reader

⁕ words: 6.4k

⁕ description: keeping the title of being the best student on campus isn’t easy for you, especially when your mind was occupied only by him and his annoying smirk, the popular bad boy who once decided to sets on fire your heart without anybody’s permission

⁕ warnings: explicit language, suggestive remarks, smoking & alcohol

read the prologue and the chapter one

The sociable cafeteria is filled with people whose names you can't remember, but their curious stares welcome you with affectionate embrace, as soon you enter the huge space of the room. The embrace you crave, since San planted the promising rays of hope in your heart, it's devastating to you, because the only concern which matters are his gleaming eyes, full of chestnut color and mischievous spark. His presence is absolutely breathtaking. You're indeed a fragile prisoner of his burning touch, and the lustful gaze, soon as you would gentle rub affectionate circles on his arms tattoo's beauty, the night before, where the only sound was your rapid heartbeats and heavy breathing. He left the blurry trace of passionate kisses down your pale neck to remind you about his intentions, when you see the purple marks of his unspoken words.

Choi San's eerie relationship with you are the cause of your ruthless nights, but you will gladly suffer for him if it meant he would hold your hand in his warm palms, and smooch your face in kisses.

Rushing at the end of long line to the bufet, you scan the surroundings in a haste glance to spot his glowing figure, seated between the rest of his friends, it's utterly mindblowing, the way your stomach churns with pleasant anxiety when his starry eyes meet with yours. San's dazzling existence throws you into the vortex of emotions, where the love is struggling against the malicious demons of your fears. He's dressed in his usual clothes, the color black highlights his sharp facial features, and the used martens on his feet shows his rebellious side. 

You bow in grateful at the elderly woman, who give you the meal of the day, thanking her for the extra portion of rice, as your stomach grumble at the lack of the daily food intake. The kindly gesture make you smile in delight, while the other students talk feverishly about the last soccer game in which the boy, whose angelic voice is like the sweetest honey, Jongho won a golden tropheum for the school's team. He becomes a hero in the eyes of the thousands of people and Hongjoong's, who is proud to call himself a father figure. ATEEZ have a lot of outstanding achievements on their side, they are a gang of gifted kids with deadly stares and auras, for example Hongjoong godly hands are great at crafting, he is a owner of his own fashion brand, called "star1117", in which "Mars" is a main model, and that's your beloved saviour Seonghwa. Yunho's long to heaven legs are born to dance on the big scene, along with Wooyoung's powerful movements and San's acute technique. Yeosang is the expanded mind behind the drones, Mingi is a soundcloud rapper, who still takes baby steps in his career, but is already famous on the campus, and Jongho is a star of the football team.

The pretty girl, who would wave in excitment at seeing your presence in the entrance to the cafeteria, before your spirit had lost his way on earth, to land in the gates of hell by San's intoxicating appearance is your bestfriend. Her name is Yeji and she is a lovable person, the definition of your half missing, with a adventurous heart and daring smile, catching the attention for her stunning looks in both genders, but the confessions of the admirers are always denied in order to search for her unrequited love in Wooyoung's sparkling eyes. You know she deserves someone better than a mere boy, but Wooyoung is a perfect example of being out of her league. The hands contaminated with sins of his could never reach her, as you protect her through the life, like a guardian angel, who failed himself agaisnt the bright side of good, as he signed a pact with the devil, to let his heart rotts in hell.

She is excessively pure to be in a dark place, the same as you, where you are fighting with your sins, doubouting the feelings of innermost love and the power of God. To be honest, you had grown to have a loads of faith in every existence, which drifts in the subconsciousness of your mind, while trying to defeat the ghosts of cruel prejudice, as you want to believe in his sincere words and his innocence. Perhaps Wooyoung's adorable giggles and goofy smiles, that creates with care his mesmerizing crescents eyes, which are underlined with smoky eyeliner, aren't plaugued with demons, maybe his easy going aura isn't fraud in lies, maybe he is way more different than you think.

Truth to be told, you shouldn't ponder over it and you shouldn't be hanging around San or his friends as much as you do, but you can't help the desire to.

You greet Yeji with a soft grin, muttering a faintly "hi", while taking the free spot beside her at the wooden table, at which she beams at you in delighment, happy about your your presence, but soon her strong gaze gets bored of you, and wanders towards the source of her happiness. "What's so interesting, hm?" you say, acting dumbfounded at her behaviour to ignore the pain inside your chest, the betrayl it is. She's long lost to the paradise of him, Jung Wooyoung is the reason behind her loving stares and fast heartbeat, you failed miserably at being her guardian angel, but maybe that's what the destiny write in their galaxies.

Yeji bites her plump lips in anxiety, curling a lock of her black hair between fingers, the feeling of infatuation on her face, and you sigh, while she spares you a glance, it's filled with deep affection, and a smile ghosts over her cherry lips. The view of the boys belonging to the ATEEZ came into your frame, as she bumps her head towards them, where all of them eating their lunch in peace, and her smile is reciprocated by Wooyoung. "Oh, Wooyoung? Is something there between you and him?"

"No, well not yet of course, but maybe soon." Yeji says with a sorrow, it's obvious, groaning in annoyance like a lovestruck teeneger, who can't decide which kind of dress would be the best option for a memorable date with a crush, a cute ribbon dress or sexy tight dress. The mischievous cupidin, who travels the world in search of his miserable victims, not only hit you both with his influential arrow, making you a fools for his entertainment at your clumsy attempts to feel being beloved.

She is dedicateted to the idea of Jung Wooyoung being selected by gods to be her first and last love, but he likes to deny the allegations of being the leading light in her life, even if she deeply cares for him and treasure the feeling of dedication to him.

You want to beliefe it also, maybe some souls are meant to be together, bound by the red thread of destiny to the end of their fulfilled life.

The obnoxious sight of the stupid girls at the left side of the room, who would swoon over the holy eightly of boys, in which Wooyoung's high pitched laugh is heard everywhere, because San's another corny joke about big dicks is hilarious to him, is a painful sight for Yeji. Her significant other is looking at the stranger blonde with a lewd eyes, the picture is what trashes violently your heart and your lungs feel as if on fire, you pity your besfriend, she doesn't deserve the treatment of feeding up with his false hope. Jung Wooyoung likes to play a sick roulette with her genuine feelings towards him, doesn't give a single fuck about the consequences of his sinful actions.

Choi San does seem to care, though, because he catches your furious stare, which could burn the holes in Wooyoung's shaky with laughter figure, the devil itself apologize for the behaviour of his beloved friend. Bad habits are tough to break, blinded by a hand of foolish lust in frail attempts to take the boredom out by being an asshole, as the bitter aftertaste of forbidden fruit never tasted so good. You smile softly to him, to reassure him it's not his fault, because he can't control the actions of the other person. Rubbing small circles on the back of your friend to lift her ruined mood, while Seonghwa notices your gaze filled with adoration towards San, he smirks in a mockery, and you make a disgusted face, as Hongjoong giggles like a sweet kid at your exchanges, but you throw at Seonghwa a middle finger, at which he gaps offended. San's concerned face is what make you bashful of your previous poor actions, as he narrow his cat like eyes at you in order to search for a cause of your outbusrt.

Fuck, Seonghwa you are dead to me.

You hide shyly behind Yeji's small shoulders like a scaredy cat, who was caught at scratching the favourite furniture of his owners, the feeling of shame is creeping at your face, while avoiding his puzzling glare. "So he likes me, huh?" you whisper in a hush, trying to convince yourself once again about the sincerity of those significant words, which sound like sweet nothings in a romantic fairytale in your mouth. The tight grip of yours at the girl's pink blouse is a definition of your tiresome doubts, you wish to the vivid stars to save you from oppression of the snares of love.

You don’t know when you fell in love with him. You don’t even know if you fell for him at some point in life or if you’ve loved him from the beginning of your life, or maybe far before the two of you existed, but his declaration of love locks you in a cage of wonders, making you a helpless bird. 

Yeji is astonished, when she comprehend your remark, and she quirks her eyebrows at you. "Wait, hold on. (Y/N) is there someone interested in you or my delusional mind is playing tricks on me, because I heard that someone likes you."

The light shade of pink adorns your face like a spreading flu, the trembling of your hands and the dizziness in your head it's the effects of your disease, which San is the cause. Unlike the flu, it won't disappear, when you treat it with a care, the only way to get rid of the disease it's by hurting him right through with a piercing bullet, but you can't do it, when he looks at you with a smile, that can melt your heart. You quickly shake your head, don't knowing about the breath you were holding, when she ask you the question. "No, what do you mean." She wouldn't let you go so easily, she do know about your defensive position, as you like to run away without  giving a proper answer.

She sighs. "Okay, listen. Maybe I'm not the smartest kid in our school like you, but I can't ignore the way San is looking at you. He is eye fucking you everytime he sees you, it's fascinating to per say." she mocks you in a childish manner. "What the fuck? Yeji, shut up! It's embarrassing, while you say it like that." "I don't care, tell me what's between the two of you." 

To fight her in an unequal battle is hopeless, because the possibility of you winning is none, the victory is negligible, as you would never win an argument with her strong points. She is like a brave lioness who defends her children against the threats by other animals, she also have a soft spot, which is Jung Wooyoung, but you wouldn't dare to touch the burning subject of her love, as you could die in the agony, and there would be nothing left but ashes of your mistake. "Fine, you ass." you roll your eyes at her, maybe admitting to your obscure desires is a good step to believe in impossible. The weight of your insistent insecurity is tugging you down, but your desire to fly between the old friends, made in heaven where the clouds are the epitome of warm embrace is stronger. "I like San." you confess. "He said he likes me, when I was with him in the library, he confessed to me about his love, and the world suddenly started to overflow with it colors.  I want to try, but my insecurities are making it hard to believe, but we kissed-" Your voice is shakier and more broken than you’d ever thought it could be.

"Hey, don't. You need to understand that you are amazing." she cooes. "I'm not surprised he likes you, you have heart made of gold and personality who shines like the brightest gem in the world, everything about you screams perfect." her reassuring words, which soothe your strained nerves in pleasure of joy, as you nod in agreement are a reason behind your shy smile. Yeji is a great friend, you believe that the only reason you became best friends was the fact that you didn’t let her vanish into the sea of doubtness, when there was no one who would extend a helping hand to her lifeless body. "Give yourself some time and most importantly trust him, everyone deserve a chance."

Your romance is not like any other love story unless you consider painful longing to the point of self-destruction as normal occurrences, he demolishes your soul and paints the idea of spending more time with him into the world of unknown, because you are, once again, convinced that Choi San was born to mess with your heart. The idea of being devoted lovers, burns the unseen scars at the pit of your stomach, because it feels distant, but also so close within reach, it sounds unfeasible, but also so beautiful, as you think about his hot touches on your skin. You care for him deeply, he knows the struggle of being misjudged just based on the foolish decisions made in past, but everyone do mistakes, which leads to a irritating effects in the future, haunting us like the worst nightmare.

We need to understand that people aren't faultless. 

The longing picture of San's getting out of shackles of the rebel, sealed by his sins, drifts into the subconscious state of your mind like a dove of hope, letting you imagine to be the person, who is willing to help him and experience his transformation, it's fullfilling your senses. To dream about the future next to him, where kisses are laced with love, the passion and where fondly words of utter adoration are whispered in the deadly night is deadlier than anything else in this world. But you pray to God, promising to be a good cause of his wrongdoings, which will lead to his change, because no suffering like this would ever break him free. "You are right, thank you."

"We are friends, it's not a big deal. Now promise me, you will never doubt yourself again." 

"I promise." you smile.

You're deep lost in the meaningful conversation with Yeji to notice the flaming presence of San, whose delicate hand touches your fragile shoulder to get your attention on him, and you melt the moment his burning touch you. He smells like cotton candy, when he wasn't smoking, and his whole aura seems to brighten entirely at the prospect of your sparkling eyes on his, and you allow a giggle to slip past your, when his cherry lips grins at you in a toothy smile, the round cheeks after the meal makes him adorable, how can he be a personification of the devil. His red hair is styled back, showing perfectly his forehead and the intensity of his eyes, the charming dimples you grow to love don't ever disappoint to take away your breath. "Be at the library at 5PM, don't be late." His tone is soft and gentle and you decide, that you hate Choi San for making you fall so carelessly in love with him. He was gone, by the end of the bell sound, and his intoxicating scent also gone with him.

And the warmth, you are already missing.

"Good luck, (Y/N)." Yeji squeezes your arm, and make her way towards the next lecture.

The rest of the day went smoothly, sharing some classes with San doesn't help you with your studies, it's a poison to your grades, but an antidote for your lonliness, as the monotonous lecture with Mr. Kim is coming to an end soon. You chuckle at his little love letters, which he puts in your sweater pocket, most of them consists of a cheesy pickup lanes, like "For some reason, I was feeling a little off today. But when you came along, you definitely turned me on." and "Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?" His hot breath on your neck, makes you shiver in a pleasure, when you sit in front of him, as you decide to abandon your pet's teacher seat in the displeasure of the scolding look of the lecturer, but you couldn't care less. "Come meet me at your locker." the last letter says, and you are introduced the state of euphoria.

The bell once again rings, not only signaling the end of the lecture, but also the rapid beating of your heart.

You turn around, exited to see his beautiful face, but you are slightly late, as he are already nowhere to be seen in the class along with his table partner Yunho, who reminds you of a big polar bear. Packing your belongings, you got a message form an unknown number, which shocks you to the core, "Don't trust him, he is not worth it." those words are driving you mad crazy. What the hell. You don't think much of it, but there is an empty feeling in your chest, as if a dark force settled down your stomach to bug out your day. Choi San has turned your life upside down and has brought you onto an edge that you enjoyed more than you cared to admit, it was too late to take a step back.

"Fuck this." you curse under your breath, exciting the class to look for San.

You take the steps, needed to arrive next to his strong figure, Yunho nowhere to be seen, and you offer him the bestest smile you can, perhaps, filled with every emotion you can't hide. The air around you is suffocating, he radiates an angelic glow, uncommon to him, you can't help but place a gentle kiss on his cheek, when he leanded nonchalantly against your locker, his shoulder relaxes visibly at your loving presence. San sends you a sly grin and tugs at the end of your blue sweater to draw you into his arms, eyes focused onto the sweet source of his happiness. "What was that for?" he pats the top of your head and places his hand on the small of your back, his actions are enough to make your heart stop beating, because his beauty defined by high cheekbones and dark arched eyebrows are the defenition of perfection. 

"I don't know." you splutter. "I suddenly got an urge to do it or maybe I wanted to prove to you about the theory of meteorite impact to the ground, which would kill all of the dinosaurs. " 

"Oh, why did you make me aware of death of dinosaurs, it's sad. Can you kiss me again to make my pain go away?"

"Kiddo." his forehead presses against yours, as you lean into him and press your lips against his ear, hands intertwined tightly and the scent still overwhelming. You place a fond kiss at the hem of his ear, whispering about sweet nothings, the boldness of your actions are enough to make him stiff in place, as you take your time to look at him, to drink in his perfect features. He’s sun kissed, you notice, and his lips are red and curved into a small smile. Choi San has turned your life upside down and has brought you onto an edge that you enjoyed more than you care to admit. "No more kisses." you laugh.

You pull away from him, and his bottom lip pops out, forming a pout and you have a strong desire to trace it with your fingers and your mouth like you did back then on the balcony, where the bright sun embodied your serene emotions. "I can always steal it, princess." he teases, and you break out into an easy grin, as he placed a chaste kiss at your soft lips.

"Let's go. I'm not in the mood to study anymore." 

"There is still one lesson ahead of us, San."

"So what? I want to spend rest of the day with my girlfriend. Now come on baby, don't make me beg you." 

He promised to make you fall in a twisted snares of love with him, his burning touches which ignites the fire will be the answer to your hopeless eyes, and he will prove the sincerity of his intentions, when you decide to run away with the knight in laether jacket to find the source of your happiness. There is no place for deep reflections, you want him to degrade you with his dark life, and to be a part of his kingdom, because ruling without the queen was already hard for him. The world can burn in noxious agony, if it means he would be there with your connected soul, holding you closely in a affectionate embrace, as your trembling hands finds way to his sharp face adorned with the most attractive smile.

"Fine, let's go." you mutter under your breath, and San lets out a quiet and triumphant yes slip from his lips, as he eagerly grabs your hand in his warm one, to assure you about the correctness of this choice and leads you to the courtyard, where his black motorbike is parked. 

Choi San is the love of your life, you decide, as you watch him, hand held tightly by him. San is everything you want and more, he is fullfilling your senses with wholesome ecstasy, you drink up his presence in the gleaming sun, a view satisfying like the miracle oasis in the middle of tropical desert. You look at him and smile. 

He is beautiful.

He attentively puts a helmet on your head, his face scrunch in concentration, his tongue pokes out of his mouth, when he was focused on protecting you from inevitable, he flashes you a dimple grin, which you return. "It will protect you. I hope you aren't afraid of speed." The thrilling feeling of adrenaline kicks in, as San's motor roars in the air like a obsessed mantra, your heart beating abruptly in your chest at the frantic sound. You are terrified, but the look of pacification on his blissful face, you long to is enough for you to hop into the embrace of death, hugging his calming back from behind. "Good girl."

The fast ride through the city with San reminds you of playing with fire, it could be a lethal weapon in the wrong hands, taking away your reckless life, when you handle it without proper caution. Life isn't beautiful without taking a risk, perhaps it's easier to put your faith in devil's sharp claws, than look for the light in angel's halo, because San's calming presence is enough for you to endure the feeling of frighten. He is aware of your trembling hands, you can't control, the swift breaths you take to soothe your racing nerves, while you melt into his figure to gain the courage, as he speeds up down the road. The destination is unknown to you, he hasn't metioned where he wish to take you, kissing you with the burning passion, holding you close in his arms till your worries of unrequited love vanish into the void, leaving a space for an attachment.

You trust San with the remaining strength in you, it isn't difficult, but you can't resist fluttering shut your eyes to ease the throbbing of your heart, you know nothing awful will happend to you, if he is here to remind you of his close proximity. "Baby, we are here. Open your pretty eyes, you can't miss the view." The ride came to an end when his divine voice comes out of his throat, the moment his yearning palms touch your gentle face to reveal you from the helmet, it's devastating for him, he can't let go of your pure smiles and soft chuckles at his sugared praises about your bravery. He is mesmerized by your angelic purity, the taste of blissful heaven never tasted so delectable at his tongue, as he molds your lips in a heated adventure between clouds. His intoxicating scent make you lightheaded, teeth clashing together in a messy battle of dominance and you let his lustful desires win, the low whimper escapes from his mouth. Believing in God is unnecessary for him, but believing in the miracles of blue paradise is right, because he could meet you.

The mesmerizing view of ocean absorbs your attention, it's beautiful, the sun is near to set and the colors of orange and red are visible in the sky, interwined together in a fierce dance to create a gorgeous convolution of emotions, where the stray souls would find the answer for their longing questions. San's head falls down into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet perfume, the smell he craves, his warm embrace on your waist grow in strength, as the cold breeze hit his back. He place another chaste kiss down your neck, your delicate hand is gripping at the red hair on top of his head, when your lips tremble at the close inticimaty, but he pulls away completely and you feel cold and empty, as he flashes you a sly grin. 

"I thought it would be nice to enjoy the sunset, while we will be busy making out like horny teenegers." San's glowing eyes forms the crescents, his sharp features softens in the vivid twilight, when he teases you, as he ruffles your hair with a precious laugh. He is uterrly beutiful in every way, you think, from the reflection of luminescent stars in his eyes, the freckles on his neck made of stardust, you yearn to explore with your desirable touch, to his flawlessly shaped waist, as it fits perfectly in your arms. But he is brighter than all stars above. "It was a joke of course, but it doesn't sounds so bad in my opinion." He flashes you a mischievous grin, eyes flaming as he stared you down with an interest.

You giggle, subtly pressing harder against him, the heat rolling off his body, he will be the death of you, but the state of limerence is amazing, you can't restrain from his charms, the God had taken his time with him, so why he had to banish him to the gates of hell? "You're gross." you flicker his forehead, smiling with adoration, when his face pouts a disappointment, a little whine escapes his mouth. Then you realize the God is awful, maybe San isn't uninfected with sins, he never prayed, but he tries to be good in his own, unique way. 

Because Choi San is open minded, the heavy curtains of the cruel world aren't enough to fool his divine eyes, and maybe you're dancing with the devil, but it doesn't frighten you. Being partly good is better than being artificial pure. San laid his leather jacket that smells like his cologne on your shoulders, as he sees you shivering under the circumstance of cold wind, his arms now exposed fully to you, the antic makes you blush and you throw him a sheepish smile to hide the cherry like flush. "No, just madly in love with you, princess." he takes out the cigarette from the back pocket of his jeans, lighting it up immediately, with a cunning smirk, it's the sin he is addicted to, the smoke surrounding him seems to embrace him gracefully.

The motorcycle seat beneath you is like a safe home to you, when still in place without the danger of speed, it's comforting you in every possible way, and his godly presence makes it even better, it's like the best antidote for solitude. "Are you always this smooth with your words?" you ask, biting your trembling lips, as his intense stare is burning holes on your redden face. He hums in dismiss, heart beating faster and faster as the seconds passed by. "Can I have one?" your breath hitches in your throat, when his large palms clutches your chin in a gentle touch. 

Choi San is the cause of the swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

"Can you be honest with me? Tell me, have you ever smoke?" he says, searching in your eyes for a genuine answer, but you can never lie to him, as the weight of the repulsiveun untruth is inordinately heavy, you couldn't carry it throught the life. 

"No."

"Then the answer is also no, angel." his delicate grip on you has loosened, as he lets go of your chin, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you whimper in his chest at the lose of his warmth. He doesn't fancy the idea of ​​you being addicted to the awful nicotine because of him, the deadly treat isn't worth losing your flawless purity, and for San you are a good girl made of pure porcelain, too fragile for this dark world. Good girls don't smoke. You clutch at his black shirt, as he lowers his head in order to move his lips to your cheek, while you inhale deeply his intoxicating scent and you’ve never felt more alive than you did then, in San's arms – the one boy who sets your heart in flames.

"But I want to try, please San. Let me, it will be my first and last time. I promise." you whine, the high hopes in your mind, because San can't resist your soft pleadings, as he is a slave of your angelic voice, but he doesn't mind as long, as you are his cause of rapid heartbeat. Truth to be told, both of you are too lost into the world of love, Choi San has committed to you, and you seal the deal with the devil itself, as you press an open mouthed kiss on his neck and then on his jaw, landing on his lips at the end. And yes, maybe it can bring the pain and sorrow, but the embrace of the devil is worth it.

He chuckles, and it’s low and throaty, his right hand ends up on your neck in a firm grip, leaving a trace of hell, which burns you alive. You aren't afraid of his crimes anymore, beacuse Choi San is the reason of the flowing sensation in your veins, as he pushes you harder into his body, taking a deep inxhale from the cigarette with the other hand. He molds together your plump lips in a sensual kiss, the other hand finds the way to your cheek, the metal cold rings on his fingers are sending you to overdive, as his mouth opens against yours and his tongue licks eagrly at the entrance of your lips. You give in to his burning touch, mouth feeling hot and a heavy, the sensation of fullness settles into the pit of your chest, as he kisses you harder and more urgent, exhaling the deathly smoke into your lungs. San is needy, but you don't mind, as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. There’s no reason to hold back, you desire his proximaty and he desires yours, it's the definition of selling your soul to the bad side.

Your fingers reach for his hair, feeling the fluffiness of his locks, as San breaks the kiss, when the overflow of smoke in your mouth chokes you, and your hazy eyes still fixated on his swollen lips, which forms a cocky grin. "I can't believe you said it was your last, when you are looking at me like this, sweetheart." You struggle to breathe, as his hands cup your face in between them, rough fingertips rubbing circles into the skin, and you blush harder than you thought possible, when a low and guttural moan leaves the back of his throat. "Fuck, it's hard for me to restrain."

"Sorry."

The overwhelming weight of the intense battle, filled with lustful touches and hot kisses, leaves you hot-blooded, and you wish it would last longer, because San is the reason of your mad addiction and sins, which pulls you down into the hole of thirst. You don't regret giving up, the pit in your stomach deepens and your thoughts swirl around in your head like sweet promises, because you can see the love oozing in his chestnut eyes, and you swear you fell in love with him once again. San rests his forehead against your heart, the sound of your rapid heartbeat is like a beloved lullaby for him, cooing him to fall into the marvellous dreamland, but the gates to the underworld of Hades are watching him, proud of his actions, because you sinned, and the God will never forgive you, but if that means rotting in hell together with San, then it's alright to do so. You are sure that you can endure it, because Choi San is your medicine for pain.

"Don't be, it's my fault. I got too carried away, but I can't help it, you are driving me crazy." his fingers brush at the strands falling into your eyes and he presses another quick kiss onto your longing mouth. There is no air left in your lungs, and they burn with need yet you neglect them. "Do you like the place?" he flashes you a gentle smile, pushing up the jacket on you, which had slip when you were too engaged in each other mouths, and he moves away completly from you to let you see the breattaking view, as he stands next to you. It eases your neglected pain.

The beautiful place pulled straight out of a fairy tale, reminds you of the place, where you had spend most of your childhood, but you can't recognize it, as your memories are blurry. "Yes, I do!" you answer, looking at the sunset in awe. "I feel like I was here before, but I can't remember it." you sigh. "I have a feeling that I used to spend a lot of time here, coll-" you say in a daze, but San interrupts you with a unreadable grin, when you look his way, to see how the sun is glowing at his honey like skin, making him a untouchable piece of art, the messy hair stand on all sides from the previous actions, but he still looks saintly.

"Collecting the colorful sheels and screaming about the invisible fishes in the water, which would scare you to the bones?" he finishes the sentence for you, and you, quite simply put, forget how to breathe. San smiles a bright smile, pearly whites on display, and you see the glimmer of the orbs in his eyes. You blink at him in confusion. "Yeah, something like that, but how did you know?" you ask bewildered by his words.

"I was the kid with the blonde streak at the top of his head. Girls swooned over me, and I only had my eyes for a girl, who would smooch my bruises on knees, from falling too many times on the hard rocks near the shore." he chuckles, finally looking at you with beaming eyes full of adoration, the late realization hit you like a bolt from the heaven.

The story of you and Choi San didn't start the moment the saviour Seonghwa introduced him to you, but it started at the very beginning of the hot summer holiday, both of you were still an small mere imitaions of your parents, made of nothing, but the blank pages, who later would be neglected by your bad words and poor choices. You met him at the age of 12, he wasn’t the tallest, but he was endearing, when he walked confidently into the blazing sand, in his hands toys and a happy smile on his face. San had one desire back then, the childish one, to defeat everyone in the competiton of building the highest sand castle, and the prize was a date with the most beautiful girl on the beach, and yes you were her.

He succesfuly won the first place, after many devastating for a kid failures, but his motivation to win was more powerful, just like him today. In this young age boys grossed you out, they were noisy and disgusting, and they were talking only about games, but he was different, a little mysterious. You were under some sort of aura that managed to take your breath away even back then, when he was nothing more than a boy, who was raised by his granparents, with a stupid name "Shiber Choi", but he soon turned to be your best friend and that's how your two months teeneger crush, filled with nervewrecking adventures and deep conversation started.

"What? That was you, no fucking way, San! You were my first love, you asshole!" You flush in delight and raise on your tiptoes to press a lingering kiss to his mellow cheek, putting your hand over his heart. "I love you, San." You whisper quietly into his shirt, sound muffled by the fabric and you hope he hears you, especially now, that you are held by him so tightly. He hugs you tighter and kisses the top of your head, fingers coming to comb through the hair at the nape of your neck. 

Choi San is your first love and you hope to also be your last.

[queerwashingmedia]

Loki’s problem with queerbaiting: part 1

Sylvie and Loki and bisexuality

(Part of this analysis is also present on my main, @stephen9260)

When first word got out that Loki came out as bi, I was excited: Marvel is owned by Disney, and I saw what it had done in other media, so I knew there was no chance it was different with Marvel.

I thought I was wrong when I heard the news.

But I wasn’t. I really wasn’t.

Was bringing Sylvie in the mix a good move?

Sylvie was not a good choice. At all.

Not because she’s a woman, there would have been nothing wrong with Loki having a female love interest (when having done the right balancing instead of makimg him come out and never mentioning it again, not even in subtext), but obviously there’s just so many people that think of bisexuals as immoral, deviants, s3x crazed freaks, and in all honesty having your bi lead engaging in selfcest just reinforces this dehumanizing stereotype.

Also, her betraying him after building up a possibly good dynamic would have made sense if not for the way it was delivered.

The kiss just did not make sense.

The kiss was probably not one of any sort of actual affection from neither of them, so them kissing just didn’t make sense overall.

Would having a relatioship right now be a good idea at all?

Throughout the whole series Loki is mostly confused or on the run, he only has time to let himself go when he’s on the train (when the coming out scene happens) and in Pompeii, which doesn’t leave him with much time to get his whole thing going. Which brings me to the point that I don’t think him getting into a relationship in the series is a good idea character wise.

He’s having a great character development and getting a partner doesn’t make sense with the kind of growth he’s going through, it would be almost out of place.

Even if that were the case though, I feel like there is something to be said: whatever gender his partner would end up being, he would have needed at least a scene when he’s flirting with a person whose gender is different than his partner’s, especially if the partner ends up being a woman (which in the eyes of basically everyone considering how little effort they are putting in making Loki actually genderfuid,  would make the relationship straight passing).

(Under the cut is an analysis of the kiss scene for anyone wondering why I think it wasn’t romantic)

First I analized the lighting, to see if the colors had been chosen to make the scene look more romantic or not (spoiler: they were not).

Usually darker colors are use in violent scenes or, for instance, s3x scenes, or still any sort of interaction that is dirven by passion, anger, or similar emotions.

This tecnique checks out with the scene we are viewing.

The scene is not well lit, but the colors are not red or similar shades like they are usually in this situations. Instead, mainly greens, but also blues (expecially during the kiss per se) purples and some other colors were used, so my guess is that the lighting was supposed to mainly mimick the colors that came from outside the room (the timelines diverging), inside the room (for one the fireplace in the background gives Sylki a more warm, tender aura, which I believe was used to make her seem far from someone who would be prone to betrayal) and most of all the caothic energy that both of the variants, being dieties of mischief and chaos themsleves, emanate.

I already have my theories on Sylvies side of the story, the kiss being merely a distraction, not a last goodbye before the final betrayal or a true expression of her feelings before sacrificing them for the sake of her beliefs.

So I looked into Loki’s face and expression, not majorly during the kiss (they’re smushing their faces together, what could I even have seen), but after.

Unfortunately, we can’t see his face before Sylvie annouces her betrayal, but while normaly, in a scene like this, the character who has been betrayed and actually wanted and enjoyed that kiss has still a little hope on their face before we can see it being whiped out by despair, what I could see in those few second from beginning to end was sadness and disappointment and resignation.

It didn’t just turn from a half smile of newfound joy and calm to the realization of someone who’s being betrayed: from the second the camera was onto Loki we could see his face was still, from when we can see his poorly lit profile his mouth hasn’t moved an inch (and nor have his eyes, from what I can tell), thus his expression hasn’t changed.

So that is when the realization hit me.

Why his face was like this.

When Sylive lowered her swords, Loki could see that she was bluffing, he knew it wasn’t real.

“I’ve been where you are. I’ve felt what you feel”

These words just prove it further.

He knows she has trust issues (like he does), so of course her lowering her guard was not genuine.   And he was proven right by that kiss. That’s when he realized that unlike him, she hadn’t grown, she was still like the Loki the sacred timeline had intended. Loki knew it because in that moment he was reminded that while not being exactly like him, they’re the same person.

She’s the Loki of the past, the Loki that doen’t trust  anyone, she’s like him before entering the tva.  

She was still prone to betrayal.

She’s not the same as who he is right now, but she’s the same as who he was before the character development

[docholligay]

Fluff day prompt: One of the Overwatch characters (your choice) realizing how much Tracer and Winston's friendship has positively impacted/changed the team. ^__^

Number three! I kept trying to write this into what I wanted it to be and it never got there and I’M ANNOYED but there we are sometimes we do our best, anyway 1800 words. 

Tracer was curled up under Winston’s arm, half-asleep though she swore she wasn’t tired not but an hour ago, Winston’s thumb rubbing back and forth across her shoulder as her eyelids grew heavy. A few weeks ago, she had been teetering between life and death, death’s victory taken only by Pharah’s refusal to allow it to be so. 

Mercy was not the sort of person who ever tried to guess at life. The unpredictability of her own had long since beat that out of her, and now she simply tried to steer the ship, instead of guessing at the storm. But even she would never have believed the man WInston would turn out to be, in the light of Tracer’s great friendship and love, and how Mercy would come to fear more than than simply the loss of Tracer’s life, but all the things that had bloomed within it. 

He was a nervous creature, Mercy had noted, and then scolded herself for thinking creature. They sat across from each other in that cold meeting room, in the original Overwatch, hearing about how Airman Oxton, callsign Tracer, was missing, but perhaps not quite deceased. She’d complained to him, later, in her office, about how she hated the experimental division, how she thought they were inhuman. She had handed him pictures she had of Tracer, sent by the family with their pleas for answers. 

She still remembered the way he had looked at them, how his eyes had softened as he looked over the one of her with her father at a birthday party, and it was then that Mercy saw that he might not be just as bad as the rest of them, whose faces had stayed stoic when faced with the tears of her father, with the pictures of a woman who was clearly deeply loved, and terribly missed. Mercy had no gift for stoicism, and she had no interest in trying. 

Winston did his best to stand upright, to keep his jaw straight, and to look like the rest of them, neat in his uniform, as he went through the halls of Overwatch. No one was ever fooled. Winston spoke little, and softly, and nervously touched at his glasses trying to make himself small, whenever anyone ever got too close. LeCroix ran ramshackle over the top of him, and he quietly took it, and Mercy managed to feel a strange mix of pity and annoyance and his weakness. 

Even as they cared for Tracer, he stammered when Moira interrogated him over Tracer’s condition and her progress and what sort of things her body might now be able to do. It seemed, Moira would say, that it was kinder simply to let her die and benefit by the autopsy, given the way she cried out in pain and fear. Mercy had never seen herself as the sort of person who got in the middle of arguments, but she could only bear to watch Moira browbeat the poor thing for so long, and anyhow, eventually he might turn Tracer’s care over to Moira, and Mercy would rather perform her own bowel resection than let that happen. 

Mercy had not respected him, though she made every effort to be kind, until Tracer began to speak. Quietly, weakly, but steadily, every day, sometimes more than once, trying with all her might to make herself understood. 

She was asking for her father. 

In that same cold meeting room, people with more strategy than souls debated whether or not they should tell her her father had died only days before she was recovered, whether they should tell her family that she was alive, before deciding that it would be deleterious to her recovery to let her know her father had died. They had been close, said the dossier they had on her. They would tell her after she had strengthened, and might be able to tell them something about the whereabouts of the Slipstream. Monstrous, she had thought. 

There had been the heavy sound of a pushing chair, and Mercy had seen Winston stand. 

“No,” he said, staring at the table, “this isn’t right. No. I---No.” 

He hadn’t stopped, hadn’t looked up at any of them, simply pushed in his chair and walked down the hallway, quick as he could, to the bug jar where Tracer was kept, lying quietly on her bed, and he told her. He told her before he could lose his nerve, before anyone could stop him, before he thought about what he might be doing and how he could be brought up on charges of insubordination. 

Tracer had wailed, and then stopped speaking for another two weeks. Mercy had come into the lab to see Winston silently sitting at her side, his hand on her back as softly as he could make it. He hadn’t left her, all the night, though he could not have known her, not really. Mercy had seen, for the first time, a strength in him. A strength that was only more emboldened as Tracer began to heal, as she and Winston grew closer, spending a first American Thanksgiving together in her little bug jar, her declaring them proper friends, her clumsily wrapped Christmas gift, and the way Winston’s eyes grew wide when she called him Win. 

It was strange to think that Tracer had brought him strength, when she supposed those who had never known Winston would see the scene set before them, Tracer’s eyes closed as her body melted over him, and assumed that what she brought was softness. An animal, right? The beast that must be tamed by beauty? They did not see that what he had been, before, how nervous and shirking. 

She had heard it said that being loved gives you strength, but it is loving that brings courage, and she had never seen this truer than in Winston’s change, and what it had done for all of Overwatch. She had tried to explain this to Pharah, that Winston had been cowardly and dodged responsibility, that to see him on the field of battle was its own sort of miracle, but Pharah had mildly scolded her. 

“He is a shy man,” she said, her eyebrows furrowed, “but it is unkind to call him cowardly.” 

Mercy had simply shaken her head and smiled. Pharah was one of the most intelligent people she know, but sometimes slow to come around to the idea that we are not born as we are now--she had been so principled and so driven from her childhood that she could scarcely imagine a great shift in any other adult. She wasn’t much for second chances, Pharah. 

But she hadn’t seen him build his armor with a shaking hand, knowing that he feared conflict and fighting, that he had fled from violence all of his life, but knowing that he wanted to stay at Tracer’s side, whatever that meant. Tracer believed that she was born to fight for this world, and retirement did not suit her. She was a fighter from the first. So Winston would learn to fight. He built and he steeled himself, and Tracer’s ebullient affection gave him the spark he needed to allow himself to become the beast who could destroy as well as repair. She loved him, and did not fear him, even when she saw what he was capable of. Tracer was the sort of person who could shoot a man in the face and then cheerfully help a child out of some rubble, so there was no question in her mind that Winston could snap a spine on the battlefield, and carefully wrap her in a hug. She brought him into her family Christmas celebrations, and gave him her last name, (Plenty of Oxtons love, plenty to go around with it) and she had watched him blossom and grow from weak and wilting to a tree strong enough to give support and shade to this world. To stand alongside the rest of them. 

He needed no prompting, when she had gone into time again. He had nearly killed Doomfist and refused to be more than mildly embarrassed about the fact, more angry at Mercy for immediately treating his wounds than anything else. He had fought for Tracer, and she had seen that rage and that strength in his face, even as he held her little body in his arms so tenderly, and tried to reassure her that all would be well again. 

He had told Overwatch that they could go straight to hell. 

Tracer had fought, too. She had fought through the pain of being torn through time again, against the damage it had done to her, even through Mercy’s caution that if it happened again, the damage could be very permanent. She had fought to claw her way back to Winston, back to London. Tracer always worried after him, privately, to Mercy, that if anything happened to her, he’d be dragged down by his own melancholy, no matter than her family had fully adopted him. So she fought, no matter the strain. 

Others wouldn’t understand her saying this, Mercy thought, for there was nothing romantic between them, but she had considered theirs to be one of the great loves she had the privilege to witness. 

“This is easier,” Winston had said, when Pharah had asked offhandedly about caring for her after being shot when he had done it before, “my voice and my touch can comfort her. They don’t hurt her.” 

She thought about that, watching Winston stroke her back as she finally drifted off to the sleep she didn’t need, the smile that lit on his lips as he looked down at her, her cheeks pink again, her hair messily tossed in her cheerful sort of way, cuddled up next to him, perfectly relaxed. It was easier, she knew, because even shot, close to death as Tracer had been, Winston could reach her. Winston could love her. 

Mercy was often mocked, to her face and behind her back, about her belief in love. That love was why she did what she did, as her constant answer, and love was the only thing that would save this world. They laughed because they had such a simplistic view of love, that it was flowers and poetry and candy. But Mercy knew better. This team was strong because it was filled with love. Love was what drew them to risk their own lives, love was what brought Hana from her home to a group of people she did not know, love was what informed every single one of Pharah’s command decisions, and Mercy knew that love guided her hand as she moved to stitch and bandage every single person she had ever touched. 

She realized, seeing the soft scene between them, that Winston and Tracer’s love had not only made the two of them stronger, but had made this team the kind that could save Overwatch. The kind that could build Overwatch. 

An Overwatch with love deep enough to heal the world.

[lifeofresulullah]

The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): The Battle of Badr and Afterwards

Munafiqs Appear

When the Prophet honored Makkah, there were mainly Muslim Arabs, Polytheistic Arabs and Jewish people there; there were also some Christians but not many.

After the Messenger of Allah settled in Madinah, Islam became more common in Madinah. People of Madinah embraced Islam in groups. Meanwhile, the Prophet established a political and administrative organization for Muslims.  

Meanwhile, another group appeared: A group of munafiqs (hypocrites) that did not believe heartily but seemed to be believers.

The tribes of Aws and Khazraj, which had been tired of the internal clashes and fights that lasted for years between them, made an agreement and decided to appoint Abdullah b. Ubay b. Salul as their ruler just before the Prophet came to Madinah. They even ordered the crown that he would put on. 

However, the dream of Abdullah b. Ubay to be the leader came to naught when the Messenger of Allah honored Madinah because almost all of the members of Aws and Khazraj had become Muslims; they all gathered around the Prophet as a necessity of their belief.

This situation offended Abdullah b. Ubay b. Salul, whose dream of being the ruler ended, a lot. When he saw that there were not many people around him, he seemingly became a Muslim. 

He himself said that he had become a Muslim seemingly due to the psychological pressure of the people around him. During the Expedition of Muraysi, he worked hard to set Muhajirs against Ansar and overstepped the mark by saying, “Once we return to Madinah, the strong ones will definitely drive out the weak ones.” Thereupon, the chapter of al-Munafiqun was sent down about munafiqs.

After the chapter was sent down, some people said to Abdullah b. Ubay, “O Abu Hu¬bab! Very severe verses were sent down about you. Go to the Messenger of Allah and tell him to ask for forgiveness from Allah for you!”  He said,

“You ordered me to believe and I did. You ordered me to pay zakah and I did. There is nothing but to prostrate before Muhammad now.” 

The following event also shows clearly how grieved and sad Abdullah b. Ubay was due to losing the hope of becoming the ruler:

Once, the Prophet was going to the house of Sa’d b. Ubada, who was ill, to visit him. On the way, when the Prophet saw that some Muslims, polytheistic Arabs and Jews were sitting in the shade of the house of Abdullah b. Ubay, he greeted them and sat next to them. He recited a passage from the Quran to them; he gave them the glad tiding that good deeds would lead them to Paradise and warned them that bad deeds would take them to Hell.

When the Prophet finished his words, Abdullah b. Ubay said, “O Speaker! If what you say is true, there can be nothing better than them. However, You should stay in your house and tell them to the people that come to your house. Do not go to the meetings of the people who do not like what you say and do not disturb them!”

The Prophet was offended by what he said. He left that place and went to Sa’d b. Ubada’s house. When he told Sa’d b. Ubada why he was sorry, Sa’d said, “O Messenger of Allah! Forgive the mistakes of Ibn Ubay. I swear by Allah, who sent the Quran to you, that the will of Allah became manifest by giving you the prophethood. However, the people of this city had prepared to make him put on the crown and be their ruler. When Allah gave you the prophethood, his expectation came to nothing and Ibn Ubay became very sorry and got offended by your prophethood; he treated you badly because of it. 

The leader of the munafiqs was Abdullah b. Ubay. There were many accomplices around him. Besides, there were many people who followed him blindly due to reasons like kinship, being allies. It is not possible to give a definite number about them. However, the number of people that left the Battle of Uhud by following Abdullah b. Ubay was about three hundred. That is, it was about one third of the Islamic army. It was not a number to despise. It shows that they had an influence on the political life of Madinah.

When the Messenger of Allah returned from the Battle of Badr as victorious, the religion of Islam became stronger. The enemies were intimidated. Thereupon, some Jews in Madinah believed in Islam by saying, “That is the person whose attributes are mentioned in the Torah! No one can resist him from now on. He will always be victorious!” Some of them pretended to be Muslims. Thus, munafiqs appeared among Jews, too. Most of the Jewish munafiqs were among Jewish scholars. They were fiendishly clever. They were more mischievous and dishonest than the others. They worked hard to humiliate Islam, to demoralize Muslims and to prevent the polytheists from being converted to Islam. They asked many complicated questions in order to keep the Prophet busy and to trouble him. 

We learn from the Quran that there were munafiqs among the desert Arabs called ‘Bedouins’: “Certain of the desert Arabs round about you are Hypocrites, as well as (desert Arabs) among the Madinah folk: they are obstinate in hypocrisy: thou knowest them not: We know them.” 

Although the social levels, lifestyles and races of munafiqs were different, they all had the same attributes: Their first attribute was “saying with their lips what was not in their hearts.” That is, they seemed to be believers although they did not believe heartily. They talked to Muslims, traveled with them by seeming to be Muslims and asked them questions that would make them doubt. Thus, they wanted to weaken the trust of Muslims about one another, to drive a wedge among them and to set them against one another.

Their aim was to put forward views that will cause mischief and separation among Muslims and to humiliate the Prophet in the eyes of Muslims by lies and slanders. They did everything to realize their inauspicious aim; they regarded everything as fair to realize their aim. There was no meanness and fraud that they would resort to in order to realize their aim.

The attitude and the policy of the Prophet toward them was thought-provoking and exemplary. The Messenger of Allah was informed about their activities aiming to shake Islam a few times. The Messenger of Allah summoned those people at once and questioned them whenever he was informed. However, they always said that they did not carry out any harmful activities and that they were innocent each time. Then, they uttered kalima ash-shahada and repeated that they were believers and Muslims. As a matter of fact, when Hazrat Zayd b. Arqam told the Prophet that Abdullah b. Ubay said, “Once we return to Madinah, the strong ones will definitely drive out the weak ones”, the Prophet summoned Ibn Ubay and asked him, “Did you utter the words that I was informed?”

Abdullah b. Ubay responded as follows:

“No! I swear by Allah, who sent you the book, that I did not utter any of those words. Zayd is definitely a liar!”

The Quran points out to those attitudes of the munafiqs as follows:

“When the Hypocrites come to thee, they say, "We bear witness that thou art indeed the Messenger of Allah." Yea, Allah knoweth that thou art indeed His Messenger, and Allah beareth witness that the Hypocrites are indeed liars!” 

The revelation that was sent down while they were denying their crimes told the Prophet that they committed those crimes and that they were denying them by telling lies. However, the Messenger of Allah showed patience and tolerance toward them and forgave them.

As we have mentioned above, when the Prophet read a passage from the Quran and preached Abdullah b. Ubay and the people who were together with him, Abdullah b. Ubay could not bear it said to the Prophet, “Go and tell these things to the people who come to visit you. Do not disturb us!”

The Prophet was offended by his words. He mentioned Sa’d b. Ubada, whom he visited about what he had said; When Sa’d b. Ubada said, “O Messenger of Allah! Forgive his mistake”, the Prophet forgave him. 

Another attribute of the munafiqs was to act hypocritically and fawn on Muslims when they met them and to say, ‘We believe’ but when they are alone with their evil ones they say: ‘We are really with you we (were) only jesting.’ They took pride in this hypocrisy and immoral act.

An example to show this attitude of the munafiqs clearly is the act of Abdullah b. Ubay, their leader. Once, he was outside with his accomplices. He saw that some Companions were coming. He said to his men, “Look how I will get rid of them.” When they approached, he held Hazrat Abu Bakr’s hand and said, “Hello, O Master of Banu Tamim! The friend of the Messenger of Allah in the cave! The loyal one who sacrificed his self and property willingly for the sake of the Prophet!” Then he held Hazrat Umar’s hand and said, “Hello, O Master of Banu Adiyy! Hazrat Faruq, who is strong in his religion and who sacrificed his self and property for the sake of the Messenger of Allah!”

Hazrat Ali could not put with this hypocrisy and said “Abdullah! Fear Allah, do not be a hypocrite because the munafiqs are the most evil creatures of Allah.”

Thereupon, Ibn Ubay said, “O Abul Hasan! Do you say this about me? By Allah, our belief is like your belief; our confirmation is like your confirmation” and left them.

Then, Abdullah b. Ubay turned to his friends and said, “Have you seen what I did? Do as I did when you see them!” 

According to a narration, the 14th verse of the chapter al-Baqara was sent down after this event. 

Munafiqs took part in the prayers and other kinds of worshipping seemingly but they tried to do things secretly against Muslims. It is remarkable that they tried not to show the things that are related to unbelief and that they were not expelled from the Islamic community because they seemed Muslims. Therefore, it was more important to maintain the solidarity and security against those internal enemies rather than the unbelievers and polytheists because the harm caused by the internal enemies is always greater. The internal enemies disperse the strength and decrease the courage; the external enemies increase the solidarity and strength. Therefore, the Quran mentions the munafiqs a lot. Muslims are warned by the Quran to be always alert against them and not to be deceived by their tricks.  

The Prophet knew them because God Almighty informed him about them; and then he informed some Companions about them. However, he did not reveal their names publicly. He did not taunt them.

This attitude was better for the interest of Islam and Muslims. Besides, there was another important reason why the Prophet treated them like that. It was the possibility of their giving up the evil deeds and the activities of mischief and sedition gradually because it is possible that an evil deed is abandoned in time if it is not revealed; however, if it is revealed, it will arouse the fury of its doer and will increase his evil deeds. 

Due to those reasons, it can be said that the Prophet took into consideration the following issues when he did not reveal the munafiqs, treated them like Muslims in the world and did not exclude them from the Islamic community in compliance with the Quran:

1) To make it possible for their children that will grow up in the Islamic community be good Muslims.

2) To make them face the spiritual trouble when they seemingly practice the divine decrees that they did not believe in their hearts and to enable them to become real believers feeling repentance. 

The munafiqs resorted to many ways to humiliate the Prophet in the eyes of the believers and tried to use every opportunity. Many events regarding the issue took place.

The arrogance of Mirba b. Qayziyy can be given as an example.

When the Messenger of Allah was going to Uhud with his army, this ferocious munafiq did not want to let the Messenger of Allah pass through his truck farm and said, “O Muhammad! If you are a prophet, it is not permissible for you to tread on my farm.” Then, he picked a handful of soil and said, “By Allah, if I knew it would not disturb others, I would throw this soil at you!”

Some Muslims, who could not put with that arrogant act of that munafiq, wanted to kill him; however, the Prophet said, “Leave him! He is blind! His heart is blind; the eye of his heart is blind.”

Before the intervention of the Prophet, Said b. Zayd hit this ferocious munafiq.

Another example to the similar acts of the munafiqs is what happened in the expedition of Tabuk.

During a stopover, the camel of the Prophet got lost. Despite all searches, it could not be found. The munafiqs took action and started to say, “If Muhammad were really a prophet, he would know where his camel was!”

When the Prophet heard what they said, he said, “Yes... By Allah, I can only know what Allah informs me. Now, He has shown me where my camel is. My camel is in such and such a valley; its halter is attached to a tree. Go and get it.”

They found the camel in the valley, attached to a tree, just like the Prophet described. 

The most remarkable harmful act of the munafiqs during the period of the Prophet was to abandon Muslims in the most critical moments. Thus, they wanted to weaken them in number and demoralize them. A clear example of it took place when they left the Islamic army during the Battle of Uhud. The number of the munafiqs who left the Islamic army under the leadership of the ferocious was three hundred; that is, one third of the Islamic army. By doing so, the munafiqs decreased the number of the Muslims and demoralized the mujahids. Due to their act, some Muslims felt uneasy and even wanted to return. However, they changed their minds due to the sagacity of the Prophet and the help of God Almighty. 

Similarly, in the most critical moment of the Battle of Khandaq, the munafiqs said to the Prophet, “Let us go to our houses because our houses are defenseless.”

Meanwhile, Sa’d b. Muadh came to the presence of the Prophet and said,  “O Messenger of Allah! Do not let them. By Allah, whenever we are exposed to a misfortune or we face a difficult situation, they always act like that.”

As it can be understood from the statements above, the munafiqs tried to abandon the Islamic army in the most critical moments in order to leave the Messenger of Allah and Muslims in the lurch.

They did the same thing during the expedition of Tabuk. While the Muslims were getting ready for the expedition, some of the munafiqs said to them, “Do not set out in this scorching heat!”, trying to demoralize the Muslims; they also applied to the prophet and asked for permission for not joining the expedition. About eighty of them were given the permission. The Quran mentions their situation as follows:

“Those who were left behind (in the Tabuk expedition) rejoiced in their inaction behind the back of the Messenger of Allah: they hated to strive and fight with their goods and their persons, in the Cause of Allah: they said, "Go not forth in the heat. Say, "The fire of Hell is fiercer in heat." If only they could understand! Let them laugh a little: much will they weep: a recompense for the (evil) that they do.!”

In the same expedition, Abdullah b. Ubay, the munafiqs and his Jewish allies joined the Islamic army and went as far as Thaniyya al-Wada; they settled there. However, he decided not to go with the Islamic army and returned with the people who were together with him. He not only returned with the munafiqs who were subject to him and his Jewish allies but he also spoke as follows in order to weaken the enthusiasm of jihad of the mujahids:

“Muhammad is in a difficult situation; he will fight against Banu Asfar (Byzantines) in the scorching heat and in distant places. He thinks it is a game to fight against Banu Asfar. By Allah, I virtually see his friends tied by ropes in twos one morning!”

Despite those destructive and mischievous attitudes of the munafiqs that aimed to set Muslims against one another and harmful acts, the Prophet treated them differently from the polytheists and Jews. He usually invited Abdullah b. Ubay to meetings and consulted him.    

His attitude toward them almost always included forgiveness and tolerance. However, he always acted cautiously despite his forgiveness and tolerance. He always checked and followed their acts and attitudes secretly.

When Abdullah b. Ubay, the leader of the munafiqs, spoke insultingly about the Messenger of Allah and Muslims in the expedition of Banu Mustaliq, Hazrat Umar could not put up with it and said, “O Messenger of Allah! Let me kill Abdullah b. Ubay!” The Messenger of Allah responded as follows:

“No! O Umar! What will happen when those who do not know the issue will say, ‘Muhammad kills his friends’?”

In another narration, the Messenger of Allah is reported to have said the following:

“If I order my Companions to kill him, they will kill him. However, there will be a lot of turmoil in Yathrib (Madinah) soon!”

As it can be understood from those statements, the Prophet always took into consideration the possibility that the munafiqs, whose number was quite a lot, could cause an internal fight among Muslims. Therefore, he always showed patience against what they did.

Again, during the expedition of Banu Mustaliq, the son of Ibn Ubay, Hazrat Abdullah, who was a sincere Muslim, went to the presence of the Messenger of Allah and said, “O Messenger of Allah! I heard that you were going to kill my father. If you really want to do it, let me kill him!” The Messenger of Allah responded as follows:

“No... Treat him leniently. As long as he is with us, we will treat him well.”

In fact, the Messenger of Allah always treated him tolerantly and appreciatively until he died. Even when he died, he did him a favor; he gave his shirt to be used as a shroud for Ibn Ubay. The Prophet led his janazah prayer in spite of the opposition of some Companions, primarily Hazrat Umar. The Messenger of Allah obtained good results for the policy of forgiving, tolerance and doing favors toward Abdullah b. Ubay and the other munafiqs. When the Prophet led the janazah prayer of Ibn Ubay, about one thousand munafiqs who saw it became sincere Muslims.

The Prophet left the munafiqs free in the community but he never neglected to keep them under psychological pressure. When he was informed about the plots that they attempted, he immediately told them what they were planning to do; thus, they had the fear that all of their acts were observed and followed.

Once, the Prophet saw that a group of munafiqs gathered and started to talk secretly; he approached them and said, “You came together in order to do this and that; and you said this and that. Come on! Ask forgiveness from Allah. I am asking for forgiveness from Allah, too.”

Therefore, they were always in fear that God Almighty would inform His beloved Messenger about their tricks. They were living in such worry and fear that when they heard a small noise in the army, they thought it was something against them. The Quran informs us about their situation as follows:

“When thou lookest at them, their exteriors please thee; and when they speak, thou listenest to their words. They are as (worthless as hollow) pieces of timber propped up, (unable to stand on their own). They think that every cry is against them.” 

Another attitude of the Prophet against them was to prevent them from coming together separately no matter where they were. The aim of this attitude was to prevent them from developing common ideas.

Demolishing the Mosque of Dirar was a good example of it. They built that mosque in order to develop some ideas against Islam and to make their plans freely not in order to worship there. The Messenger of Allah knew what their aim was; so he ordered the Companions to demolish that mosque. His order was fulfilled at once.

To sum up, it can be said that the Prophet obtained the results of his policy, which was based on tolerance and caution, against the group of munafiqs. Thanks to his attitude, he prevented them from leaving the Islamic community and joining the ranks of polytheists. He maintained the unity of Muslims. He prevented them from getting organized and rebelling against Muslims.

[magpieslocket]

#writeyourwitchcraft

Inspired by this post, I wrote down my answers to these prompts in September 2019. Revisiting the list, I have rewritten my answers for January 2021.

The long long prompt list and answers follow under the cut.

What draws me to witchcraft?

Witchcraft draws me in as a tool of self-reflection and self-improvement.

How do I see the divine?

I see the divine as a human creation out of necessity. We seek patterns in a chaotic universe, and divinity is the thing beyond us that laces together disparate parts into a seamless whole.

What in witchcraft makes me happy?

Tea, oils, incense, and community.

Do I want to follow a path that has to do with a little nature, or a lot of nature?

A lot of nature. I believe we need nature in our lives, and the closer we can get to it, the healthier we are.

What areas of witchcraft would I like to learn more about?

Regional biodiversity, ethnobotany, divination outside of tarot, more about tarot, more traditional Americana regional styles of craft.

Where do my witchy talents lie?

Visualization and empathy.

What kind of deities, if any, do I want to honor?

I don’t currently work with any deities.

How do I believe magic works?

If it works, it works by sympathetic principles of energy flow and positive psychology. I think we manifest what we believe. I think we have the most powerful computer on the planet riding around on our shoulders, and magic is a way to program ourselves.

Simple or elaborate spells/rituals? Why?

As elaborate as is needed. I believe that some pageantry acts as a trigger in our brain to start recording, so to speak. By performing a ritual, we are telling ourselves we have power to affect the outcome of events. Some elaborate steps can help us believe it better, as we are so trained to see simplicity as ineffective.

What are my views on cursing/hexing?

I believe it is pointless, as it only increases the pain and hate in your own heart, and will seldom affect the target unless the target knows they have been cursed. On the other hand, I don’t believe in some “karmic” return of the reflection of the power used. I think it is fine for others, but I don’t seek it out. 

Do I want to practice something similar to my ancestors?

I am wary of Norse reconstructionist religion because so much is based on so little in the way of sources, so I have no idea how similar the practice is to what my Danish ancestors would have really known. In spite of this, I have always been drawn to Norse mythology and have Huginn tattooed behind my ear. I try to balance my own Norse leanings with some Americana / Appalachian tradition.

What are the basic morals and ethics I feel I should live by?

This is such a difficult question to boil down to a few sentences. I believe we are all human together, and as such, we must treat each other with dignity and respect. Not because of some reward for doing good, but because we wish to be treated with dignity and respect ourselves. 

What in nature am I drawn to; the ocean, animals, the trees, etc?

All of it.

Which (witchy) holidays, if any, would I like to celebrate and how?

I celebrate the Wiccan Wheel of the Year with friends because while none of us are Wiccan, we are all flavors of Pagan, and find the regular breaking of bread together fun.

How do I believe divination works?

Divination is self knowledge passed through the veil that obfuscates authorship. We project our gut feelings onto a medium made to soak up and amplify those feelings into readable patterns, then read those patterns without acknowledging our hand in making them.

Would I like to work with a group some of the time, all of the time or not at all?

Some of the time would be grand, Covid willing. I would love to find more like minded people to practice with.

Which aspects of witchcraft appeal to me most, which the least?

I love the trappings of witchcraft, and despise the gatekeeping, racism, and antisemitism that plague the community. The sense of community and the ceremony of witchcraft appeals to me in so many ways, but I find a lot of fault in the community at large for cultural appropriation of people it then fetishizes. 

What do I believe happens to us when we die?

I think we go dark, cease to be, and are mourned. I think our body returns to dust and our mind was only ever a flicker of light in the darkness in the first place.

How do I see mythological creatures?

I think most mythological creatures are based on hearsay of living or extinct animals, that knowledge passed down from ear to ear and from generation to generation, changing and becoming unrecognizable to its original form, like a strange game of Telephone.

When do I feel most magical?

I feel magical when I am in a flow state. When the rest of the world melts away and I can focus entirely on the task at hand.

How much is witchcraft woven into my daily life; is this too much, too little or just enough?

I feel that right now, it is just enough. I use visualization to boost my mood, my confidence, and my energy, and I use meditation to relax, soothe anxiety and depression, and be more mindful of my body. I use crystals and teas to affect change in my emotional states.

What kind of witch do I feel I am?

If I had to choose, Green Witch. I feel most connected with the energy of plants.

Which texts/quotes best describe my current path?

There are no gardening mistakes, only experiments. – Janet Kilburn Phillips

A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in. – Greek proverb

Remember that children, marriages, and flower gardens reflect the kind of care they get. — H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

Do I like research and gathering info, or do I like things handed to me?

That is a loaded question and I don’t like it.

Which things about witchcraft worry or scare me?

I worry about becoming overly dependent on magical thinking and not taking the reins to my own life.

What is my favourite element?

No way to say.

How do I see gender (roles) in witchcraft?

Gender is not a binary experience, and gender roles in magic often feel like outdated trapping of a different time. I feel that society is catching up with the expression of gender being something varied and personal and that the witchcraft community is catching up too. I simply ignore anything that takes it upon itself to assign gender roles to magical correspondences. 

Am I interested more in magic, or spirituality?

I have had great talks with friends on the difference between the two. How do you define it? I think I prefer spirituality as a pattern grid that lays over life and gives meaning to senselessness.

Do I like to be told how to do things, or would I rather figure it out on my own?

That depends on the thing! I prefer to be told how to fix a car or not poison myself with homemade tea, but I like to figure out my own methods for programing my attitudes. 

What rules, if any, do I live by when it comes to witchcraft and magic?

I had a lot of trouble with this question. There are simple rules, like “don’t eat strange herbs without ample research” and there are complex rules, like “try not to appropriate closed cultures” - I think that like the ethics and morals question, it boils down to treating others how you’d like to be treated.

What do I gain from witchcraft and magic?

I gain a feeling of autonomy, to self-direct my own brain. 

Formal or informal rituals/spells? Why?

Informal, because who’s to say what is formalized. 

What subject do I love to study?

Oh everything. There isn’t a bad subject to study.

What is my favourite type of magic; candle, sympathetic, sigils, etc?

Sympathetic magic is one of my favorites, and sigils are a common topic of interest for me. 

What would my perfect witchy day be like?

What does this question mean? “April 25th — because it's not too hot, not too cold. All you need is a light jacket!”

Would I want to be dedicated/initiated?

Sure, if I trusted the people doing it.

Who do I honor (ex: deities, ancestors, myself, etc), and how do I, or would I like to, honor them?

I honor myself with mindful listening.

How do I create a sacred/witchy space?

I create the space by engaging with my five senses. Creating texture, scents, sights, and general ambiance to enrich my experience and captivate my senses. 

What do I believe is needed for a successful spell/ritual?

Intent and belief. 

Which cultures do I draw from in my witchcraft?

Norse, Hellenistic/Greek, American/Appalachian.

What is my learning style; books, websites, videos, more hands-on?

I’m still experimenting with content, but I think websites and hands-on.

What, if anything, in my mundane life influences my witchcraft?

Chronic depression and anxiety influence my witchcraft because they influence my energy levels and ability to engage with the experiences. 

What are my hobbies, how do I (or can I) incorporate them in my witchcraft?

My biggest hobbies are writing, drawing, and painting, and I use all three to explore my craft. I use writing to question and define, I use drawing to explore, and I use painting to honor.

Where do my non-witchy talents lie, how do I (or can I) incorporate them in my witchcraft?

Art is where most people would say my talent lies. I have used stormwater to add interesting energy to paintings, and would do so again in the future.

What would my dream witchy life look like? What steps can I take to work towards it?

My dream witchy life is running a combination gallery space and witchy store. Steps I can take would be to continue honing my craft (art and magic) and building the skills necessary to run a gallery space successfully.

What would my dream sacred space/witchy home look like? What steps can I take to work towards it?

Plants, plants, and more plants. Statues, paintings, and prints of powerful imagery. I am working on my gardening dreams, and my art dreams, so continue to do both of those things.

What symbols correspond with me; runes, animals, flowers, gemstones, etc?

Stags, deer, wolves, smokey quartz, rutilated quartz, snowflake obsidian, pothos.

Am I an open and proud witch, or do I (need to) hide my craft?

I am a very private person in real life. I don’t share my craft with anyone outside my direct family and close friends.

What are my favourite witchy items/tools; divination tool, ritual tool, décor, clothing, etc?

Tarot cards are my current obsession. Some of the magpied shiny bits that I have collected over the years, from sharks teeth to perfume bottles, make the list. 

What is holding me back in my craft?

Issues with mental health, physical health, and self-doubt.

What is my pre-spell/ritual routine?

Grounding myself to the Earth.

What are my ultimate witchy goals and how can I work towards them?

I’m not sure how to answer this. I guess, to be more mindful, to be more content, and to be more present. I am working with myself through therapy and ritual and setting small achievable goals to work towards those things. 

I implore @theodoravanyar and anyone else who takes the time to read this long slog of words to consider writing their own answers down for the new year. 

[inmyarmswrappedin]

DRUCK reactions - s4 ep1

Ages ago I said I wanted to write meta about Cris’ and Matteo’s seasons, so of course, when I finally sit down to write reactions to a Skam remake, it’s about Amira instead.

A few weeks back I was composing tumblr posts in bed before falling asleep (my number 1 hobby lol) when it struck me that the writing for Amira’s season was really… indefensibly bad. So let’s stroll down through memory lane and revisit Druck s4, or how to throw away your potential because you have to put out this season before summer is over!

CLIP 1: Dark clouds over Winterberg

Obviously I’m writing these with the benefit of hindsight, but I will try and incorporate what my initial reaction to a clip was whenever I can remember.

Sometime between the Abiball episode and episode 32, I argued (on twitter) that the Abiball special was the Abiball episode instead, the first episode of Amira’s season. It would thus introduce us to the conflicts and characters that would take place during Amira’s season. I thought that in addition to the obvious Amira/Mohammed, Carlos/Kiki/Essam would be important, Kiki’s family life would be important, Stefan would be important, and David/Matteo would probably not be important as they seemed to be doing just fine in their scenes.

I didn’t think Mia/Alex would be important because I didn’t actually watch their clip lol. The Winterberg stans on my twitter orbit thought the clip was cute and nothing to worry about. That should’ve been my first clue that the (twitter) stan habit of repeating the “we never lose” mantra doesn’t make for great viewing comprehension, because watching the clip, it’s so obvious that shit is gonna go down lol.

Mia moves from one of the flat share’s bathrooms to the other because they never really recreated Mia’s room in the s3 flat share.

I still haven’t watched Mia’s episode, so I don’t know how all this stuff is going to get resolved, but it seems like Mia doesn’t think they can handle a LDR, and Alex is picking up on those vibes hard. I guess I don’t really get why Mia is so pessimistic about it because at that age I kinda thought a few months break weren’t really an obstacle. (Not sure if it would help me to watch Mia’s season, because this seems like a wholly new conflict.)

Anyway, Alex acts sweet/reassuring (I really like how soft spoken everyone is in this episode), so Mia puts it out of her mind for now. But Idk, they haven’t really spoken about the elephant in the room.

CLIP 2: Don’t call them the chastest evak ever again

Tbh this clip comes across as a direct rebuttal to all the s3 commentary about David and Matteo seeming like they’re not into each other, or like they aren’t ~passionate~ like the other evaks.

It’s like, “these gremlins are horny on main, now shut up.”

But I like that they’re fully dressed, like yes, you can show physical intimacy without undressing your teen actors (shade fully intended).

I love Lukas von Horbatschewsky’s hair and I’m very jealous of Matteo in this sequence, lmao.

Luis Sepúlveda died of coronavirus this year, in Spain. You’re welcome for that bit of 2020 misery dripping onto this cute clip.

I do think David feels guilty that he may have caused Matteo to fail his Spanish exam because of David’s own issues, which I think is very on brand for David. Obviously it wasn’t his fault.

I really like how soft spoken everyone is in this episode, 2X.

And this has been said a million times by now, but David and Matteo are the one evak version where they’re the same age (Joana is in the same year as Cris, but is a year older, so she must’ve gotten held back at some point). So it’s funny, and possibly a reference to Isak and Even, to see David talking about what it’d be like if they had that age difference. Like, maybe David would be more like Even in behavior! And, going by Matteo’s reaction, he wouldn’t be into that.

This clip really feels like the ending to Matteo and David. They’ll go on a road trip, they’ll work on David’s movie, they’ll be around, but this clip is their conclusion. They both feel secure and content in their relationship, and ready for everything that’s to come.

Like I said on the post about Cris and Joana, I like that David and Matteo don’t have further issues. And while I have tons of issues with Druck s4, which I will be talking about forever in the following posts, I never had an issue with how they deployed Matteo or David. (Okay, self. Now say that again without crying about David’s season that should have been.)

Fucking David cutting their make out short only to then say such a highkey flirty, romantic thing to Matteo though. No wonder Matteo’s like, “STOP, I’M SUPPOSED TO STUDY.”

CLIP 3: A challenger appears!

I like the fanon that David is a healthy eater (or at least in comparison to Matteo), because all we ever see David eat of his own volition (i.e. not food that was made for him) is candy.

God, I love Kiki snatching David’s fruity gummies out of his hands. It makes me laugh every time, particularly how she demands to know if the candy is vegan.  

Hanna looks beautiful. ;_;

There’s a split second when Jonas is about to give Hanna that box where David looks alarmed in the background. In my mind he’s all, “Bro, no. Not a public proposal. Reel it back in, bro!”

And then, to the surprise of Jonas and all the viewers, we find out that not only are Jonas and Hanna not together, but Hanna is dating German Arthur. Again, in “fandom refuses to acknowledge storyline conflict until it’s staring right at them” news, Stefan had actually been introduced via an audio to Hanna the day before, but people were convinced it was Hanna’s dad. Whose actor they called just to record an audio. Clearly.

My belief at this point was that Stefan would be relevant to Amira’s storyline, but instead it was just a way to give Hanna her own episode. 🤡

Matteo’s transformation into Michi is complete by donning his grandpa hat.

He also makes to trip David for no real reason. Throwback to Unter Wasser.

Matteo saying Inshallalalah in a sing song voice is cute, but so annoying.

Matteo Florenzi: He’s a pain in the ass, but we love him.

CLIP 4: I guess Abdi and Axel picked up his grades at another point

I love the way Matteo grabs David’s head to pull him along. They’re so cute and I’m gonna enjoy every second.

Jonas also grabs Hanna along, because fans needed to be further confused as to what was happening with Hanna and Stefan and Jonas.

Thank you, Druck, for telling me Kiki’s and Amira’s grades, but as you can understand, that’s nowhere near enough to satisfy my curiosity and I will be needing to know everyone’s GPA because that is the kind of thing that’s important to me. What about it!!!

I think, going by how impressed Mia is, that Mia’s grade isn’t as good as Amira’s. Which I think is a neat detail, since the Nooras are kind of supposed to be the perfect girls. I like that Amira is even better than Mia at school.

I thought the concept of Carlos failing his final exam and maybe realizing school wasn’t his thing would’ve been an interesting storyline to explore, but I’m not mad that it didn’t happen. Hopefully Druck will touch on it with the next kids.

And we’re now treated to three reveals about Kiki. Kiki has a sister (now she has two), she likes the idea of moving out and living with Carlos, and her mom isn’t doing well.

The remakes trying to develop their Vildes past s4 make sense to me. By the end of Skam, Vilde clearly was the character who’d been the most robbed of a season, there were several potential storylines to do with her. Financial instability, alcoholic mom, eating disorders, plus it seemed obvious that any season taking place during the girls’ russetide should go to her. And that’s without getting into Vilde’s strong denial that she was a lesbian.

So the remakes are sitting on all these potential storylines, but as we now know, they can’t make their own Vilde season.

And from a European TV exec’s point of view, Vilde (who in every version is a white, skinny, ostensibly straight girl) is a very safe main after the gay and Muslim seasons.

Cue the LITTLE SISTER.  

I get why people are fed up with the Vildes’ prominence in the remakes that are in their latter stages, but at the same time we got 8 versions of Noora’s season, most of which are a limpdicked enemies to lovers story with a misguided sexual assault storyline tacked at the end. (And I say misguided because after a strong start, it’s mostly about what William will think, how William will react, I can’t tell William about this, etc.) So in my case, I’ve had quite enough Noora to last me a lifetime, but my Vilde thirst has only begun to be quenched.

Tangent over, Kiki lies that she’s not going to the lake because she’s going to check on Carlos. Bad form, Kiki.

CLIP 5: Graduation (Friends Forever).mp3

In clown news, I predicted there’d be a clip between the Kiki stuff and the actual dance (maybe a Sam clip), as it seemed to me there wasn’t much of a connection between Kiki looking sad on that ping pong table and PARTY TIME. Lol at me.

And speaking of clowning, while I thought the Abiball episode was part of s4, I also thought that was fine because it was just doing the multi POV episode in the beginning of the season rather than at the end, right? Wrong.

As much as it would’ve been great if Sam and Abdi had storylines pertaining to racism and islamophobia (whether Abdi is or isn’t a Muslim, people would probably assume he is), I also have to admit… This conversation is hilarious.

“I want to have intercourse with you.” [glass breaks in the background]

Abdi closing his speech with a wide smile gvvhvh.

The first hundred times I watched this scene, I thought Alex seemed a bit alarmed at the conversation taking place, but really… We’re back to stone-faced Alex lol.

Don’t kill me, but I feel a little bad for Abdi in this moment. He really put himself out there and Sam just leaves without giving him an answer, yikes. I actually got tired of Abdi’s sad sackiness during the season, but right now I feel for him. L

There’s this smile Jonas sometimes directs at dudes (like Alex here) that makes me think… Bi. He also directs it at Matteo in s3.

Ugh.

There’s a parallel universe where Stefan was the villain of Amira’s season, and it would’ve been a much more interesting season than the one we got.

Because Stefan is a bit of a Darth Jonas. He works for Greenpeace, but, at least in this scene, seems a bit full of himself, and like… twisting the knife in a way that feels like it has to be intentional. And it would’ve been so interesting if Druck had tackled the white dudes who seem like they’re not going to be assholes about Muslims, but then turn around and say some shocking garbage. I’m sure we’ve all met a guy like that before.

In my mind, Stefan would’ve driven a wedge between Hanna and Amira, which would’ve been way more compelling than what we got, but on the other hand, it probably would’ve made fandom people hate Hanna, and people outside of fandom hate Amira.

Anyway, tag teaming gays! I love how David and Matteo share a look and immediately take care of both Jonas and Stefan.

I also love it when David looks murderous. It looks good on him.

But I feel like this didn’t go anywhere? Like, Matteo always hated Stefan and continued hating Stefan until the finale. In this scene, David seems to dislike Stefan just as much, but it’s not a thread they bother following. It’s too bad because I think Matteo and David together sabotaging Stefan is a lot funnier than just Matteo doing it.

I love how soft spoken Amira is when telling Essam not to show up at her graduation party. I would’ve been a lot less polite lmao.

You know, I actually thought Kiki was genuine here when she said she wasn’t a fan of competitions. Obviously that’s not the Kiki we’ve known until this point, but like, I thought it was meant to show character development on her part, But we’ll talk about THAT more in the following episodes.

Matteo fully blames their win on David being so hot, mysterious and new, and it’s hilarious because that’s also what initially drew him to David. Like, “fuck you for being so hot!”

I thought it was such a nice detail that they brought back the girl from the refugee classes in s1. We’re saying goodbye to all these school people who are going on their own post high school journeys without us!

In my mind, Abdi and Alex are talking about something completely serious, like, I don’t know, Abdi’s dad wanting him to study business and Alex advising Abdi on the best business schools in Berlin or something.

I feel like Hanna is the one girl in the squad who really doesn’t feel ready for post high school life and I HATE the writers so much for how they wrapped her character up, but we’ll save that for later.

I could watch Matteo passing the tiara (=the main) to Amira forever. The way he tips his hat and looks like even he’s a little surprised that he (a character like him!) was ever the lead on a teen show, David’s voice asking Matteo if he’s coming, Matteo leaving with David to live happily ever after, the initial notes of Just Got Paid as Amira looks at nighttime Berlin. This meme is overdone by now, but THE POETIC CINEMA.

Jonas glaring at romantic rivals at end of year dances is iconic at this point.

Amira being tagteamed by an annoying little brother AND a well-meaning, embarrasing older brother. Choose your own nightmare.

I really love the set up for the Essam/Kiki/Carlos conflict. The emotional potential is SO good because on one hand you have Kiki, who wants to have a good time for once instead of parenting her own parent, then Carlos whose self-esteem is on the floor after having failed his final exam, and Essam, whose own sense of self-worth hinges upon whether white German girls find him attractive. Like, obviously Essam is never going to come between Kiki and Carlos who have been through some shit together, but with Carlos out of commission and Essam eager to please, you can see how the situation could so easily turn into a mess.

Amira and Mohammed have the most sexual tension out of any Yousana pair, period. They literally just said hi to each other and I already feel like I’m intruding gvhvhv.      

Social media

David saying of Matteo: “Er bekommt Auslauf.” (Something like, “he gets walkies” because he’s been good with revising) is the cutest shit ever.

Remember when Stefan sent Jonas a whole ass message and signed it “with sunny greetings”? Stefan was much more fun when we were supposed to find him unbearable.

Kiki creating a new Whatsapp group for every single thing is so true to life.

I’d forgotten that Amira also hated Stefan almost right away. The season that could’ve been, I tell you.

All the Abi Chaker Clan content reminds me of how I thought Jonas looked like, well, such a child, compared to Stefan, and I thought that was intentional. Like, here is Stefan with a Greenpeace job whereas Jonas doesn’t know what to do with his life, and he’s like, spray-painting abi chaker clan onto walls and posting pics to the abi chaker clan account. It’s not that I thought Jonas should’ve acted like a whole ass adult, of course he’s having fun with his high school friends, but I thought Jonas might feel inadequate in comparison to where Stefan is at this point of his life.

I can’t remember who revealed it, but Sara was supposed to end up with Toilet Sam and that was supposed to come out during the s3 finale (on that week, Sara posted a story with a guy whose face was obscured iirc). Since that was part of the clip where Hanna and Jonas also got back together, which they cut to make way for Hanna/Jonas/Stefan drama, Sara takes some other dude to the Abiball. And I think we’re supposed to think that’s the same dude she went on that date with.

[pretty-thoughts-and-a-pen]

Dark Feathered, (1)

A boy, a demon and a mystery box left on his doorstep with a cool surface and an aura of mystery. Such is how the stories of Cyan Archer begin.

Demons were majestic, alluring creatures that appeared in your living room at the call of a symbol and finished off your plate of cookies. As Cyan watched the darkness spread and thicken under the flickering lights of the room, he was reminded once again of how he did not ask for any of this.

An inky black cloud hovered over the red circle painted on the floor, with two lines slashed through it making a cross. No, it was not blood, simply red paint. Cyan didn't know why he bothered. It was impossible to scrub off afterwards, and it wasn't like demons demanded the summoning symbol look like it was drawn in blood - they could make do with chalk, no problem. But Cyan could be whimsical that way, and whatever little things he could take pleasure in from time to time, he wasn't going to give up so very easily.

A shape started to form in the mystical cloud that was only getting more and more compressed. A vaguely humanoid figure could soon be discerned, and when the lights stopped flickering, the sound of two feet gently tapping onto the floor followed the image. Cyan blinked and rubbed his eyes. It was easy to get caught up and disoriented during the summoning. Nevertheless, he quickly clasped his hands behind his back and bowed his head, training his gaze onto the pointed, black shoes that stood on the edge of the circle.

He kept his tone low and respectful. "I, Cyan Archer, welcome you into this home-"

The shoes were gone.

Cyan's head snapped up. Against the backdrop of his white ceiling, two large, feathered wings, black and shining as if they were a piece of the midnight itself, fluttered away in the direction of the kitchen. A moment later, a crashing sound indicated the box on the counter had been knocked off. Cyan's body relaxed then, and a suffering sigh ripped from his throat. It wasn't one of the higher ups then - the more dangerous ones that required Cyan's full submission. No, it was HIM.

Good news...mostly.

He jogged over to the kitchen and there he was. Lounging on the counter with his back against the wall, the young man could've been mistaken for a normal teenager, if not for the wings that protruded from his inhumanely pale skin, so intensely dark they seemed to absorb the brightness around them. The rest of him - small, brown eyes, hair that was just a slightly darker shade of brown, and a fit, tall stature- was incongruently ordinary when put together with demon wings. Even the symbols and words that adorned his neck, chest, and arms in swirling, dizzying patterns, could've been mistaken for tattoos by someone who didn't know better.

But Cyan was not fazed by the abnormal, and instead focused on the fresh batch of cookies he had left out, which were being devoured. He had seen it coming; he had known Alistair Shade long enough to not be surprised. And annoying as that was, he would take one of the friendliest of the demons he knew over the other, less amiable, members of his species any day.

"Ally." He strode forward and tried to hop onto the counter across from him. Alistair, however, quickly stretched his legs out over the whole thing and flippantly kicked him off. "Hey, what the hell?"

The demon smirked. "No space on my throne for people who call me 'Ally'."

He took several seconds, then, to chew two cookies at once. Cyan huffed. Filling up the time, though, he bent over and picked up the box from the floor. The rectangular-shaped piece of polished wood was no bigger than his average school textbook, and no heavier either. As he dusted it off, a familiar prickling feeling arose in the back of his neck. He could've sworn the wood got colder under his fingertips the longer he held them there. Its gleaming surface reflected his face, but not correctly. Distortedly. Cyan knew a thing or two about having his worldview turned upside down, bent and distorted beyond belief, and it had made him forget who he was before his mother and sister had decided to change everything. He did not appreciate a bent image of him staring up from a box that probably contained nightmares inside.

He decided he hated it.

So, naturally, he plopped it onto Alistair's legs.

"Rude." Alistair put the plate away and ran his appraising gaze over the object. "Certainly very pretty, Cy. What's inside?"

"I'm not entirely sure I want to know." Cyan pursed his lips, and settled for glaring at the lid, so that it would come off on its own and save him the trouble. It didn't. "Kind of why I was summoning one of you guys. I thought I could get some information, or someone would just confiscate the thing. Stolen demon property, sir." He made sure to make his voice thick and ridiculous, for the impression of a certain demon named Viktor he wasn't particularly fond of.

Alistair just stared at him for a long time, his stoic expression revealing nothing. He couldve just been contemplating. And then...

"Fallen angels."

He said it matter-of-factly. Cyan just waved his hands around. "Oh, come on! Everyone says 'demons' when they see black wings, and creepy symbols, and-"

Alistair leaned forward and wrapped a hand around his mouth to shut him up. "And you're not everyone. No 'demons'. No 'Ally'. Now," he lightly tossed the box in the air and rattled it, revealing a clinking sound that indicated numerous tiny objects bumping around inside, "are you going to open this? Preferably while we're still young, please."

So Cyan took his sweet time. He pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses, wiped off his sweat multiple times, paced the kitchen a little, and shoved Alistair every time he laughed, or shook the box pointedly, or snapped his fingers and dyed Cyan's light blonde hair a horrendous shade of red. The two of them only stopped when it became clear that the box was, in fact, getting colder with every passing second.

"Is it just me," Alistair wondered, blinking, "or were those icicles not there under the lid before?"

"Not there." Cyan marched over and took the cursed thing, firmly putting it down on the counter after Alistair vacated it. The demon stood nearby, still and steady, and Cyan found himself hiding halfway behind his outstretched wings, while leaning as far away as he could from the box whose lid he was prying open.

Finally, he flicked the lid aside. Quickly, he jumped completely behind Alistair and ducked behind his back, settling for peaking over one broad shoulder. The boys waited with bated breath - for smoke, hellfire, booming laughter. Nothing.

Cyan leaned over, holding onto Alistair's shoulders for support. He looked into the box to see...

...coins?

No ordinary coins, either. The wooden hollow was brimming with intricately carved, golden coins that shone with an unearthly light. Against all expectations, that didn't seem dangerous. They were very clearly beautiful and valuable.

Cyan stepped out of hiding and reached out to take one. "Well, this isn't so bad."

Alistair grabbed his hand in mid air.

The demon's face was always pale, but now it looked sickly and etched with fear. He pushed both of Cyan's hands down and away, then, slowly and carefully, plucked something out of the box with the very tip of his fingers. Not a coin, but a note, which had been buried amidst the gold. He smoothed it out on the counter, and Cyan couldn't help but note how much distance he had suddenly put between himself and the box, where previously he had been standing directly in front of it and been the human's shield.

Only three words on the paper, written in block letter. HIDE IT, CY.

Cyan grabbed Alistair's arm as support. "Ally, what's wrong?"

Alistair threw his head back and breathed in deeply. "Those coins, with purple carvings instead of black? And creating ice out of thin air? I'm pretty sure they belong to...an Elder. And not just any one." He fixed his eyes on Cyan's face, and his usual cool and calm expression mostly returned, except for his irises getting darker and darker progressively, which ruined the image. "He is famous for conjuring ice for his work, and to enchant his property and protect it from intruders. I think," he turned to look at the dreadful treasure once more, "those belong to Lord Julius."

If there was one thing Cyan did not want to face, it was an Elder. There were demons that were considered young, who had died and turned recently, and these could be reasonable. One of these was Alistair, and he was an outlier case altogether. Cyan even knew that these young ones were called Saplings, as a result of some inside joke that had apparently lasted millennia.

A testament to how chill they could be.

But then, on the other hand, there were the Elder demons. These had been around since the dawn of time, and they were everything Cyan feared. Powerful, ill-tempered, and full of pride that you had better not wound, and on top of that these came with a variety of unique flavors of powers. Ever since his mother, Rose, and his sister, Bethany, had decided to dabble in the occult, one of the most unfortunate consequences had been this - their family's entanglement with Elder demons.

Cyan tried very hard to keep the tremble out of his voice. "So," he pretended his hand wasn't shaking as much as it was, "I'm assuming Julius didn't mail these as a nice gift, did he?"

"No." Alistair was too grim for Cyan's comfort. If he would just make another snide comment, or do something silly, the teen's world would turn slightly more right. "We might have a big problem here. Rose and Bethany..."

Seeing no escape from this predicament, Cyan chose to bury his face in Alistair's shoulder. Casting a weary look at that dreadful treasure again, he nodded.

"...they stole an Elder's gold."