#now I have healed and my mind has been cleansed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stormofdefiance · 4 months

Text

True knowledge exists in knowing you know nothing || Dr. Ratio & Socrates

Okay, I legitimately laughed out loud writing that title, but listen. LISTEN.

Ratio's inspirations derive from many sources; from referencing Archimedes's brain-blast in the tub, to being doomed to have his head bonked by Newton's apple ad infinitum in his idle animation, to his ultimate line ('esse est percipi' / 'to be is to be perceived') a direct quote from Berkeley on Idealism - it's apparent that his design nods towards scholars across time periods rather than being a direct parallel to a singular academic.

Nevertheless, just for fun, I've been rotating Ratio and ancient greek philosophers around in my head and have had a great time chewing over how parallels Socrates in particular. I am in no way saying that Hoyo even thought about Socrates while they were designing Ratio, but I thought I'd share my thoughts. I think there are some worthwhile parallels to be drawn that touch on all aspects of Ratio's own philosophy regarding ignorance, the value of knowledge, and his deep appreciation of life. So, let's get into it.

Ratio is interested in humanity and curing 'ill minds with knowledge', that 'to turn a blind eye to the folly of others is not an etiquette, but a wicked worldly practice.' Ignorance is a disease - this is a concept that can be viewed through a Socratic lens. Socrates believed that that virtue and knowledge were impossible to separate from one another, and that virtue could be developed through acquiring knowledge and insight. If knowledge is virtue, then ignorance is vice. In Socrates's mind, no one would rationally choose to do something bad. People might choose to do bad things, but this is rooted in their own perception of the world - as in, someone would only choose to do something bad (for the world, or for themselves) because they believed (erroneously) that it was the right or good thing to do. To Socrates, the cure to this was knowledge: 'There are two kinds of disease of the soul, vice and ignorance.' & 'What does most harm in the world is not sinfulness but ignorance'.

To Ratio, 'If ignorance is an ailment, it is the duty of the scholars to weed it out and heal the universe'. He views his own ignorance as 'filth' that must be cleansed through methods such as reading. He also views knowledge as a method for humans to overcome their problems - 'Another day has passed. If your problem still hasn't been solved, is it possible the problem is you?' & 'You look distressed. Is something troubling you? if so, you can figure it out for yourself.' These statements sound harsh, but they also clue us into Ratio's philosophy - that through self-examination and improvement, one can overcome one's ailments.

Socrates was also known for being a trouble-maker, he was abrupt and tactless and did not care for someone's social standing nor decorum. He was also known for using what is now called the Socratic method, asking a series of questions that ultimately seek to show contradictions in the beliefs of those who posed them, and to move systematically towards a hypothesis free from contradiction. Socrates rarely made assertions himself - after all, he had no wisdom of his own. But he could interrogate others in order to expose their own foibles, much to the embarrassment and annoyance of those around him. He was once described as a 'gnat' chewing on the 'lazy horse of Athens', causing it to wake up and spring to life due to his persistent gnawing and prodding. Ratio also employs the Socratic method - 'I'm asking questions' - and also adopts sophist tactics such as playing devil's advocate and taking opposing sides (with both himself as seen a story quest, and with others as we see with his texts urging us to take up a side so he might debate us). Through questioning and interrogation, upsetting what we consider social convention and norms, we can dispel contradictions and thereby come closer to some form of truth.

To add to this - as highlighted in the replies below - Ratio’s skill ‘intellectual midwifery’ is a reference to the Socratic method. The idea being that Socrates helped those around him give birth to the knowledge that was already within them, rather than treating his students minds as empty vessels for him to fill with his own answers. Again this is beautifully echoed in Ratio - he doesn’t want to tell you how to live your life, he wants you to work out for yourself what it is you need, thus empowering oneself through self-examination and questioning.

Socrates did not believe in writing anything down. He believed that face-to-face communication was a far more effective way of communicating knowledge - which means, unfortunately, what we know of Socrates is primarily derived from secondary sources. Much of what we know about him today comes from Plato's dialogues, and Plato was known for liberally exercising artistic license.

Although Ratio is not dead, I find it interesting that his character story is told exclusively through secondary sources. To quote - '…There are no less than eight documentaries detailing his legendary exploits, and over a dozen memoirs about him. However, despite the plethora of commentaries, none of them seems to provide a compelling perspective.' It's as though there are no surviving fragments penned by Ratio's hand and all we have to go on is through the lenses of other people. This challenges us, perhaps, to try to think about our own interpretation of Ratio since secondary sources cannot be taken as a wholly unbiased account - and once again employing the Socratic method and empowering the reader to come to their own interpretation.

While Socrates left no writing behind, he was interested in spreading knowledge. Socrates spent most of his life in Athens, a city that was, during his lifetime (~470-399 BC), a hotpot of scholars, wisemen and philosophers. Athena, the Greek god of wisdom, was named after the city - her symbol the owl that is also appropriately perched on Ratio’s shoulder. Also in Athens at this time where the sophists. The sophists were a class of intellectuals who were known to teach courses in various subjects - but often for a high fee, and generally centred around the idea that persuasion and the use of knowledge as a tool was more important than wisdom or truth itself. There's some debate about whether Socrates could be characterised as a sophist himself, but, crucially, he is characterised as refusing to take payment for his teachings. He was born a plebeian (perhaps you might describe it as a mundane background.) He was known to dress in rags and go barefoot, speaking to and (often antagonising) people from all walks of life, preferring the marketplace as a center of debate than palaces or courtrooms. I can't help but think of the sophists as similar to the genius society (or at least Ratio's depiction of them in contrast to himself), cooped up in ivory towers and gatekeeping knowledge to the most privileged. He doubts if Herta's talent is always helpful to others, he compares Screwllum to a 'monarch'. Then again, the sophists may in fact be a bit of a parallel to the Intelligentsia Guild - from Ratio, 'when someone is willing to listen to knowledge that is being disseminated and circulated, a price is created'.

Socrates (or at least the Platonic depiction of Socrates) was at one time declared the wisest man in Athens by the Oracle of Delphi. Socrates balks at this assertion - how can he possibly be the wisest man in Athens when he in fact knows nothing at all? This was not a claim made of modesty - he truly believed that he had no wisdom, that he was unsure what 'wisdom' itself even was. Ultimately, Socrates concludes that the only way that the Oracle could be correct is that by actually acknowledging that he knows nothing he paradoxically is the wisest man in Athens. All wisdom, therefore, is rooted in wondering, with wondering only possible if one is open to admitting one's own ignorance.

What I love about all of this in relation to Ratio is that Ratio styles himself as a mundanite. The Intelligensia Guild advocates that 'all knowledge must be circulated like currency' and accepts 'all beings… who seek to learn'. Ratio has no time for the satisfied self-styling of intellectualism, he himself states that 'to speak knowledge, we must first make people realise their own folly.' No one is above criticism in this regard, even himself - again, to quote 'Whenever someone agrees with me, I feel like I must be wrong.' Again, I feel as though he would resonate with Socrates here: 'Smart people learn from everything and everyone, average people from their experiences, and stupid people already have all the answers'. With Aventurine, he is quick to mock his appearance as over-the-top and vapid - once again making it clear his distate for vanity and hollow displays of showiness (albeit he may have been acting for Sunday's sake here. Also, no comment about this coming from a man who runs around in a toga, lmao) Equally, with Aventurine, it is clear that Ratio is willing to learn from him - he apologises when he offends, he abhors his methodology and yet he still relies upon it and trusts in Aventurine's plan, he is drawn to him in some ways precisely because he is so different to himself. Aventurine (at least styles himself) as impulsive to Ratio's slow and steady methodology, Aventurine whose learning has been entirely self-made vs Ratio who has spent his life in classrooms, Ratio who scoffs at Aventurine's favourite games of chance yet adds slot machines to his simulated universe. And to Socrates, the experience of aporia – in all of its discomfort and disruption – is the very catalyst of wonder, and that wonder was not just the root of wisdom but also the way to live a good and happy life. There is something beautiful in this to me, and this extends to Ratio. Ratio fundamentally cares about life. For all his brashness, his lashing out against 'idiots', his harsh demeanour - he wants people to live good lives, he wants to contribute to the good of humanity - all people, even those he is annoyed by, he cares so profoundly and absolutely about life. The entire reason why he is obsessed with wisdom and learning is not to exalt or elevate himself, not as some kind of ritualistic expression of piety towards a deity, but it is instead an expression of devotion towards life itself. Ratio has a strict work out routine not so that he can show off his body, but because living healthily is living well and working out is a component of that. Even the way he fusses and worries about Aventurine, someone he is pointedly irritated by, reveals how deeply his care runs. So so much of his character is centered on caring for life, even if it is not immediately obvious.

Finally, I'd like to highlight some ways in which Ratio is not like Socrates. First of all, Socrates was repeatedly described as 'ugly' by fellow philosophers Plato and Xenophon - this is contrast to Ratio being repeatedly described as 'handsome'. This is an interesting subversion to me (albeit likely an indulgent one) as in both cases both men attempt to distance their physical appearance from the weight of their words. Ratio wears the bust for many reasons, but way to view it is that he is attempting to stop his appearance from bearing any influence in the subject of debate.

Socrates was also said to be blessed by a divine touch, and as we know, this is something that agonises Ratio as Nous has not yet turned THEIR gaze towards him.

Lastly, Ratio has - thankfully - not yet been ordered by the state to drink hemlock for all his trouble-making and blustering. Though perhaps he may someday be put on trial by the IPC if the theories that he is working alongside Aventurine to undermine the corporation are true - we will just have to wait and see.

Thanks for reading my little ramble. I'd be super interested in anyone's thoughts if they'd like to share, but regardless, I'll leave off on some of my favourite wee quotes from the Rat man:

'Even a life marked by failure is a life worth living - it is only in moments of solitude and despair, when help is absent, that fools grasp how to pick themselves up.'

'Do stay alive. I wish you the best of luck.'

#dr ratio #ratio #aventurine #hsr #honkai star rail #my witterings #i love the rat man so much idk #much of the information i describe about Socrates comes from the podcast History of Philosophy without the Gaps #which I highly recommend if this is your kind of thing lol #but mostly I just wanted to have fun spinning my hyperfixation around lol #Also I make a few declarative statements throughout this but know that I do not claim to be a scholar of greek philosophy lol #please check the verasity for yourselves before relying on what I have to say #for I know nothing u see u see? :P #also I just wanna add in that I do NOT think Ratio is a perfect human being #ratio can be hypocritical and cruel and ignorant just like the rest of us #but I adore that too as afterall he is also an expression of humanity #with all its earthy faults

156 notes · View notes

themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 3 months

Text

Datura Pt 15

Author's Note: Darrrrrlllllliiiiinnnngggg guess who's back from jail the debilitating cycle of mental illness?

Seriously tho, thank ya'll for sticking with me I have not been able to write more than a couple paragraphs a day lately. Please enjoy meeting a couple familiar faces, as a treat.

Content Warnings: Canon Typical Violence

Previous Chapter/Masterlist

-----------------

Giving the High Lords’ their powers back is, surprisingly, the easiest part of the next hour. Reaching into your power well, untangling the threads of each of them, swirling together within you is easy compared to getting them to agree on anything. They all stand there, in what’s left of the Throne Room, yelling at each other about what’s to be done about your father. Rhys and Helion want him dead now, the Cauldron returned to its resting place. Beron and Tarquin want to go home and be done with the whole mess. Kallias and Thesan want to try and muster their armies, in case of all out war.

By this point its all a jumble of nonsense in your ears. You’re so tired. Rhys, with his powers returned, is healing nicely from the wounds you’ve inflicted, and despite all he’s endured, he’s the one holding you upright as you lean into his side. It’s taking all your energy to just keep your eyes open, to not give into the warmth that radiates from his skin, and sink into it.

“We are wasting time!” Helion agrues.

“What he does in the Human Lands is no business of ours!” Shouts Beron.

You’d snarl at him if you had the energy; every time he opens his mouth you wish you’d had the presence of mind to give his powers to Eris instead, but the headache from holding all that had gotten so bad you’d thought your head might actually burst if you didn’t expel as much of it as you could. As is, Tamlin’s powers still prowl beneath your skin; finding him will be a challenge you’ll have to face later, once this threat is finally over.

Rhys’s hand strokes your side soothingly as he comes to Helion’s defense, his snarl making the room shake. He is a sight to behold at full power, everything about him seems to dim the impressive powers around him. Wisps of shadows twirl around his body, twining around your own in exploration. A welcome darkness. You’d like very much to fall into it and not think about any of this for weeks and weeks.

“We are getting nowhere with this,” Kallias insists. “Let us return home and send out spies. We are of no help to anyone if we end up dead because we went in blind.”

“We cannot wait that long,” Helion presses.

“We won’t need to,” Rhys says, flicking a bit of lint off his shoulder. “My spy should be here with news any minute now.”

Even you crane your head up to look at him, surprised. He hasn’t moved from the Throne Room, is only now dressed because he summoned something from a pocket realm, when would he have had the time?

He merely winks at you as he says to the others, “Once he arrives, we will make our decision.”

“And we should trust a word from your spies?” Beron snarls. “As we should trust a story about the Cauldron from her.” He’s been rather pissed that a female had wielded his powers, and has taken every opportunity to take a shot at you since getting them back. As if diminishing your ability cleansed them of whatever womanly germs you may have gotten on them.

“I gave you those powers of my own free will, I can take them back any time I desire,” you warn.

He has the good sense to step away from you, at least, even if his disdain is palpable.

“The next time you look at my mate like that,” Rhys snarls so low the lights in the room start to wink out. The stars that usually glitter in his violet eyes shrink, pupil expanding until it’s nearly black. “I’ll separate your head from your shoulders.” His shadows deepen, swirling around him.

Mate. The word clangs through them like a warning bell and there are various reactions of disgust and surprise. Helion claps him on the back in congratulations despite the others’ response.

You brush a mental hand over the thin thread that connects you to Rhys, testing to tell yourself that it is real. The loss of the bargains is visceral, it feels as if there’s a gaping wound in your soul, poking around in there feels like touching an exposed nerve, but beneath it, glittering like a million stars, is that tether. The one you suspect might have been the only reason you’re still alive at all.

Rhys opens his end of it to you, the door of adamant thrown open far wider than it had ever been before. “Are you all right, Darling?”

You could cry from a thousand different things right now, but the fact that you can hear him, feel him like this makes you close your eyes for a brief moment and relish the fact that Hybern hadn’t robbed you of this too. “I thought…” the memory of that dark power holding you down, tearing the bargain apart, flashes across your shared mental space before you can shut it out. “I wasn’t sure this would still be here.”

Rhys’s anger flares down the bond as the memory plays out before him, the arm around your waist tightening. “It will always be here. Nothing, no exiled king, no Mountain, no damned Cauldron, will ever change that.”

“Even if I did punch you in the face?” You quip, eyes blurring with tears.

His deep rumble of a laugh flows down the bond, fills it with glittering starlight. It is such a contrast to the dark lord mask he still outwardly shows the other lords. Looking at him, they can only see Darkness Incarnate, a creature of shadows and malevolence that keeps baring his teeth when someone gets out of line. Yet here, between your two souls, he is gentle and kind and bright.

“Maybe if you’d broken my nose it would be different, I am known for my good looks after all,” he returns. “So I suppose it can be overlooked.”

You’ve almost forgotten the other lords are still bickering until Rhys’s remark makes you snort and Beron turns to glare at you. It’s only because your mate flashes his teeth at him with a growl that he keeps from pointing it out.

You could have stayed like this, warm in both his physical and mental embrace, had a male with wings not entered the room. Fae came in all shapes, sizes and colors, your travels had shown many of them to you over the years, but you’ve met very few with wings like these. The leathery membrane is reminiscent of a bat’s, with a large apex talon at the tip; when folded behind him, the talons make it look like horns are growing out of his shoulders. He weara]s black fighting leathers, fit tight to his muscled form; a sword sheathed between his great wings, a single, ornate dagger strapped to his thigh. You know him to be with Rhys solely from the shadows that mist over his frame, drifting through his dark hair to shroud his face as he enters, his powers not entirely unlike your mate’s.

The male’s hazel eyes flick immediately to Rhys, his features mostly schooled into cold indifference, but you note the briefest flick of relief as he takes in his High Lord.

“Don’t tell me you only brought the Shadowsinger?” Helion asks with a pout.

The rest of the room finally falls silent as the male steps up to the table you’ve all been arguing around. Rhys claps him on the shoulder in greeting, your mate’s posture relaxing at his presence.

The male returns the gesture, the hand he reaches out scarred beyond any repair. “M’lord.” There’s a bit of teasing underneath the tone, as if he says it in joke, perhaps that is why Rhys flashes him a grin in return.

“Well?” Thesan questions.

“My spies and I have tracked Hybern back to a temple in Spring,” the male says, turning away from Rhys to face them. “Troops are prepared to move, but no one has yet. I couldn’t get any closer.”

You run your fingers over your damaged throat in thought. He has the Cauldron still, why not use it?

Helion asks as much before you can say it aloud.

“I couldn’t get inside, his shields are extensive. If we are to engage him, we’ll have to draw him outside.”

“With what army?” Kallias returns.

“We have an Illyrian legion and a squadron of Darkbringers standing by,” he says with a nod to Rhys.

“Ah, so you did bring Cassian,” Helion says with a grin. “I was hoping I’d see a pretty face after being in this cage for so long.”

Beron snarls softly under his breath in disgust.

“I can break the shield,” you say.

“Tore through Amarantha’s like butter,” Helion agrees.

Rhys’s attention is now glued to you, as is the Shadowsinger, hazel eyes assessing the way his lord holds you.

“I can go in first, take the shield down, and you all can come in behind me.”

“And let you lead us right into a trap?” Beron snarls.

“Would you prefer to go in first?” Tarquin returns.

“Helion and I will be right behind you,” Rhys says slowly, as if he’s still thinking through the details.

“I can cleave any surprise spells beyond the shield,” Helion confirms.

“My troops can provide cover, if Hybern’s men move,” Rhys continues. “The rest of you can follow along behind. We’ll distract Hybern while…”

A shiver runs inadvertently down my spine at thought, but I force the words out anyway, “While I drain the Cauldron so he can’t use it.”

Rhys nods, a string of affection trickling down the bond. “Once Hybern and his troops are dead, or captured, we send the Cauldron back to its resting place, and we all go home.”

Kallias rubs a hand wearily over his face.

“I don’t see why all of us have to risk our necks,” Beron snarls.

“Because we don’t know what else he has up his sleeve,” Thesan returns. “We’ve all been in the dark to the outside world for the last fifty years. He could have anything.”

“He doesn’t have his whole army moved in yet,” the Shadowsinger confirms. “We have to move now.”

Tarquin sighs as he leans his weight against the table. “Let us be done with it then.”

You sigh with relief. It’s almost over. This nightmare is, mercifully, moments away from over. All you have to do is tear down a shield and drain the actual, life giving, Cauldron.

The terrifying, cold, bottomless Cauldron that had swallowed you and spit you out. The very thing that had tied you to Hybern’s will and nearly cost you your mate. And you wanted to, somehow, take that power from it so it couldn’t be wielded?

You are in over your head.

You never should have suggested it.

But how can you not? Even with all their powers restored, none of the High Lords can take power from anyone, or anything else. That is a gift that belongs to you and you alone. It has to be you.

By the time you pull yourself out of your thoughts over the ancient artifact, the other lords have filtered out, leaving you alone with Rhys and his spy. It’s only when they’re gone that Rhys releases you, so he can throw his arms around the other male. It is far more affectionate than you have ever seen him be with someone aside from yourself.

“Az,” he half sobs into the other male’s shoulder.

“You idiot!” The other snarls, even as those scarred hands grip so tight to the back of Rhys’s shirt it looks like he might tear it. “What were you thinking!?”

Rhys’s response is still more sob than laugh, but there is some humor in it nonetheless. “It worked didn’t it?”

“I’d thought I’d never see you again, you stupid prick!”

When they finally pull away, Rhys is grinning. “Az, you should meet my mate.”

You’re still standing there awkwardly, and probably looking like you’d been tossed under a wagon, if you’re being totally honest with yourself, and the only thing you can think to do is give a little wave. “Hi.”

He looks back and forth between you two, shadows drifting off his shoulders, slithering around his dark boots like snakes as they come to appraise you, much as Rhys’s own powers had that night on Calanmai. Though these are colder and more methodic in their search than your mate’s had been.

“Y/N, this is my brother, Azriel.”

“Who’s blood is all over your hands?” Azriel asks by way of greeting.

It’s an effort not to tuck them behind your back under his scrutiny. “A little bit of everyone’s really,” you mumble.

Azriel shoots Rhys a look that has your mate grinning, “She killed Amarantha.”

“Well, then, it’s nice to meet you,” Azriel replies, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a grin.

“You two will get along well, I think,” Rhys says, and judging by the warmth he’s flooding down the bond you know he really means it. This is important to him.

“You make it a habit of killing dictators, Y/N?” Azriel teases.

“Well we are on our way to kill my father, so I might be,” you return.

The shock on his face is enough to make you grin, even as Rhys slaps Azriel on the back and says, “We should go find Cass.”

Cass turns out to be one of the tallest males you’ve ever seen, bearing the same dark wings as Azriel, long brown hair tied back out of his sun kissed face. While Azriel had remarks on Rhys’s absence to make, this one merely barreled into him as soon as he caught sight of him, nearly taking them both to the ground in his attempt to bear hug him.

Azriel takes up the space beside you, watching them with the same cold indifference he looked at everything. “Careful, he’s a hugger.” Was the only warning you got before the giant of a male released Rhys to sweep you up into a hug of your own.

You awkwardly pat his large back once your feet manage to get back on the ground. “Uh hi.”

“You’re much prettier than he is,” he says when he pulls away, a shit eating grin plastered to his handsome face. “You sure you want this loser?” He jerks his thumb in Rhys’s direction for good measure.

Rhys grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you back against his chest. “Don’t mind Cassian, he was dropped as a baby.”

“I was not!” Cassian returns. “Thrown out into the snow sure, but no one ever dropped me.”

“His head’s so big you wouldn’t have noticed if he had anyway,” Azriel returns.

Rhys chuckles as they turn to square off each other, shouting obscenities. “I know they’re a little much-”

You run your fingers over his arm where it’s braced against your collarbone, the weight of him at your back solid and reassuring. “This is pretty much what I’d expect of anyone related to you, honestly.”

He gives your shoulder a teasing pinch, “Brat.”

“You endured all this for them,” you say in a more serious tone. “You gave all of yourself to make sure they were safe. They’re important to you, so they’re important to me.”

He kisses the top of your head in thanks. “I can’t wait for this to be over, so we can go home and you can meet the rest of them.”

For that, for them, you can do this, you can go up against the Cauldron. You give his hand a squeeze. “Let’s get this done then.”

----

The crunch of every dead piece of grass under your feet sounds like an alarm bell. The rustle of the trees, the quiet of the nearby birds, it all feels as if it’s screaming your location right to your father.

You draw a deep breath as you creep forward, then another as the Temple finally comes into view. Hybern’s shield around the building is a lot less visible than Amarantha’s had been, yet you can feel it. There’s a buzzing beneath your skin that grows the closer you get to it, the air tinged with a hint of overripe fruit.

“Hello, Daughter of the Void, have you come to play another game?”

You freeze, a shiver running down your spine.

Behind you, Rhys and Helion pause too, watching the area ahead of you warily. Cassian had produced armor and weapons for both of them, their swords still sheathed at their backs. Rhys reaches a hand up to grab his at your movements, but neither mention hearing the Cauldron.

“Darling?” Rhys asks mind to mind to avoid being heard. “Are you all right?”

Your stomach is in your throat, it’s an effort to swallow. “Yeah,” you lie as the phantom touch of that icy water brushes over your skin. Cassian hadn’t found armor for you, just a pair of more practical clothes and boots. Helion had offered to cast a shield for you, but his efforts had been for nothing, your body had swallowed up the shield like it was starving for any bit of new power it could reach. Still, you wish you’d found something, anything to make you feel a little less powerless against what you were up against.

“Just thought I heard something.” In a few more tentative steps, you’re at the edge of the shield.

“Come, come and play, Sweet Nothing.”

You reach out a hand, even though it’s shaking, and let your claws slide into place. They’re still a little distorted from Spring’s powers, you skin a war of fur and scales as the warring powers fight for dominance.

You can do this. Your mate is right behind you. His brothers and their winged armies just above the treeline. You are not alone to fight Hybern this time.

“Once we’re through, let Helion go ahead and check for protection spells,” Rhys cautions.

“I didn’t see any before,” you muse.

“He wasn’t trying to keep you out then,” he reminds. “But he knows that you’re against him now. We have to be ready for anything.”

You square your shoulders. You can do this.

The shield splits under your claws as if you’re shredding paper, your hand tingling with the sensation of a thousand needles as you draw all that power into you. After holding the powers of all the High Lords, this is nothing in comparison, even if it is stronger than Amarantha’s. You don’t stop pulling it into you until you no longer feel the buzzing of it against your skin.

“We’re in,” you say to Helion, who strides past you far more confidently than you felt he should be.

Especially when it’s so… quiet.

You tilt your head, listening. There are still no birds here, but there is no waiting army either. Hybern had plenty of soldiers when you’d seen him last, too many to cram all inside the Temple, even with the ones you’d misted under his orders. It shouldn’t be this quiet.

Helion’s head tilts to the side as he too considers the stillness.

You can’t smell any spells at work, or see any other types of shields.

“Come, come and play,” the Cauldron beckons. “We have so much more to learn from each other, Little Death.”

Why have no army in sight with something this valuable out in the open?

Why leave something you could hear within reach?

You glance back at Rhys, by the look on his face its clear he too knows something is wrong, but he still can’t hear that it’s wrong.

“Come.” It starts like a second pulse within your chest.

“Come.” Then the hair on your arms raises.

“Come.” The ground trembles, but still no one but you notices.

Because you were remade. It knows you and you know it. And that’s the only way you have time to run and push Helion out of the way before Hybern uses the Cauldron to send out a blast of pure energy that hits you right in the chest.

_________________________________

Tag List: @mariahoedt, @lovelydove, @twsssmlmaa, @sleepylunarwolf, @judig92, @willowpains, @daughterofthemoons-stuff, @annnaaaa88, @myheartfollower, @uniquecolorwizard, @eternallyelvish, @waytoomanyteenagefeels, @lovemesomeevesy, @localfangirl09, @isa1b2h3, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @slytherintaco, @iluvewmanblog, @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife, @kitsunetori, @lilah-asteria, @dianxiaxie, @msoldier, @amara-moonlight, @darling006, @92494-blog1, @genniecokkie, @nyctophiliiiiaaa

#rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader angst #rhysand x reader smut #UTM!rhys #rhysand acotar #Cassian acotar #azriel acotar #datura fic #acotar fic #acotar smut #my writing #my fanfic

76 notes · View notes

sepublic · 4 months

Text

Homesick: The Lost TOH S1B Episode!

So the storyboards for Homesick gave us the Healing Glyph, which incorporates the alchemical symbol for Water, just as the Fire Glyph has Fire (obviously) and Plant has Earth (not as obvious but still very much so). Makes sense, water is often associated with cleansing and healing; Take for example Avatar the Last Airbender! Not only that BUT;

Prior to Any Sport in a Storm, John Bailey Owen, a head writer for the show, tweeted this book plate! I and others lost our minds over what appeared to be a S1-era graphic with an unknown fifth glyph, and speculated about it…

Now we know. It was the Healing Glyph all along!!!!!! It was indeed another glyph! And its placement with the four we know makes me suspect the writers still intended for most spells to be accessed via glyph combos, it’s just that the base glyphs of the Titan would’ve been five and not four! And Healing being one of the Titan’s main glyphs in an earlier draft makes sense, given the Titan has to have VERY good health to stay alive in her rotted state for so long, as well as resurrecting Luz, being the literal grounds for life on the Boiling Isles, and even regenerating imperfectly, which was a concept brought up by the writers for why certain aspects of the isles are fleshy or have entire body parts.

Alas, the episode the Healing Glyph appears in —Homesick— wasn’t animated. But it does have Luz being in Hexside as a plot point, showing how she has to rely on the magic around her to make things for other classes, like potions. So this episode might’ve been drafted after the executive mandate for more Hexside, and been intended to air after The First Day even!

Given Homesick’s storyboards open with an introduction to its the crew members while No Tree Left Behind doesn’t… I think Homesick was made during a different stage of development, after the final version of S1A had been storyboarded in fact! While NTLB was before S1A’s final drafts were settled on, hence Lilith being more villainous like in the pilot and using Luz as a hostage (which detracts from Agony of a Witch’s significance as that sorta thing being the first time it happens). Adding to my point is how the demon hunters return in Homesick, with Tom alluding to Hooty’s Moving Hassle;

Of course, the name Homesick’s H doesn’t fit into ‘A witch loses a true way’ which has me suspect the titles for S1 weren’t finalized when this was storyboarded, either; So before we got S1A’s titles officially revealed. Or maybe the message would’ve ended differently, while still starting with ‘A witch loses’. I can imagine how development for a season can change past its midway point!!!

But yeah, this is the missing glyph! The lost episode! Why wasn’t it animated, I wonder; Maybe there wasn’t enough space for S1B and the writers felt every other episode shown took priority (I will not tolerate Sense and Insensitivity and Really Small Problems slander, King’s development DOES matter). Maybe they ran out of budget, they reached the episode limit for a season. S1 was meant to be 20 episodes but instead got 19, so S2 compensated with 21! We got an extra episode for S2 because of it… Only for the show to be cancelled after Agony of a Witch aired, so it really needed that extra episode to set up S3 ugh. Reminder that we lost fourteen episodes’ worth of screen time because of Disney!

Anyhow, Homesick could’ve been our missing episode to round out that number. Again, I don’t know why it was left out, but I wonder if the character of Caduceia (who appears in this episode) had her design repurposed for Raine Whispers, whose teenage appearance is alluded to later in S1B. But that photo could’ve been added late in production, during the time in which things were actually animated! If we look at the production codes for S1, it has 101-120… But there isn’t a 117.

I should clarify that production codes don’t always align to episodes’ intended order; Something Ventured, Someone Framed is 109 while Escape of the Palisman is 108. But SVSF has to happen before EotP, because EotP references Luz being enrolled in Hexside, which happens in SVSF. So as far as I can tell, Homesick (aka production code 117) happens after The First Day. We see Eda’s ring, so it’d also have to occur before Wing it like Witches!

But then again Clouds on the Horizon’s storyboards gave Amity the portal key when she lost that eleven episodes ago, so who knows what happens in production or what details get messed up by storyboarders, especially since production isn’t always chronological; Homesick’s storyboarders might not have known about the ring in WilW while working on the episode. The lack of Healing Glyph in other episodes makes me wonder if it was supposed to be Luz’s last one, even!

She doesn’t use it in WilW where it could’ve helped Amity at the end, but then maybe that episode was altered in response to no more Homesick. In fact maybe the episode was cut because the writers were concerned about the Healing Glyph not having established limits (which they learned from by later in S2 giving Luz’s invisibility combo the breathing requirement), which takes away a lot of tension and can write them into a corner. I know that feeling… In the episode it was powerful enough to heal Hooty of his entire illness, and as Dana says, limitation breeds innovation so such a boon for the protagonists had to be removed to make room for potential conflict and dilemmas later on.

Since Homesick’s conclusion depends a lot on and revolves around the Healing Glyph, they might not have been able to rework the plot to still make it work in the S1B context, not in enough time, plus we already know that the final show didn’t need the episode that much in the end if there’s no glyph for it to offer. And then the animators went back and edited WilW to foreshadow Raine since Caduceia as a character was now cut, leaving her design repurposed for Whispers instead.

On another note, Homesick’s photo of Manny with his face blurred also indicates he was meant to be a mystery as early as S1B, aka his death as a motivator for Luz was in plan at least since then; Makes sense, Manny giving Luz her favorite book is based off of Dana’s own childhood experience with her father, so she would have that in mind well before The Owl House was even an idea prompted out of spite! Additionally, Camila WAS meant to be a nurse, and this was changed at some point during or after S1B’s production!

And with all this speculation on development aside, I want to address how this could still fit into current canon; I’ve HC’ed that different Titans have different base glyphs and different designs, though the function of some spells may align (such as King and his papa having Light). So maybe Healing is the second of King’s glyphs, and Luz discovers it when Eda or someone else casts a healing spell!!! I could see a very abridged version of Homesick happening post-canon, after the show’s final scene.

#the owl house #the owl house pilot #glyphs #speculation #analysis

65 notes · View notes

justcallmefox89 · 7 months

Text

Gale and the Gith: Chapter Fourteen - Inferior Part V

Nothing is as it seems.

Gale huffs, glancing over at the portal for the tenth time in as many minutes, then resumes his pacing. Lae’zel and Astarion exchange a brief glance but otherwise leave the wizard to his thoughts.

It’s taking too long. Why did I agree to let him go in alone? Stupid, stupid, stu-

The portal flashes and X’aa’nath tumbles through, wild-eyed and breathing harshly. Gale rushes to him, catching him by the shoulders and helping him stay upright.

“Kin! Have you done it? Have you killed our Queen’s enemy?”

X’aa’nath flinches, a barely noticeable thing Gale only catches because of how close they are. He quickly straightens up and faces Lae’zel. “I tried, kin. I tried… but the target is unkillable.”

Surprise, then anger flickers across Lae’zel’s face. “Unkillable? I don’t believe you – show me your mind.”

X’aa’nath looks like he wants to protest, but he relents, and slowly his unconsciousness unfurls, allowing the other three into his mind.

“I may have made a mistake trusting you. I told you to stay away from the githyanki. But you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” X’aa’nath’s dream visitor, a handsome elven warrior, turns to face him. “And now you’ve come to murder me.”

“My kin offer me cleansing! And my Queen has told me who you really are – an agent of the Illithid Grand Design.”

“I told you I stole the artefact from someone- well, I stole it from Vlaakith. Since then she has become desperate.”

X’aa’nath scowls. “So you admit to stealing from my Queen as well. Why should I not kill you where you stand?”

“Vlaakith wants me dead because I know her secret,” the dream visitor protests. “It is a secret so great that if your people ever found out, that would be the end of her rule, the end of her. That same secret is how I have been protecting you from the Absolute.”

X’aa’nath frowns, shaking his head slightly.

“I can hear your thoughts. You think I’m lying. Vlaakith warned you that I would try to deceive you. But consider this – what reason do I have to deceive you? I want the same thing as you do – freedom. I am on your side. I have been from the very beginning.”

“No! Do not try to trick me. Vlaakith does not lie to her faithful!”

The dream visitor draws his sword and kneels, offering his weapon to X’aa’nath. “I already told you I protect you, that I saved you. That I’m just like you. If this is not enough to convince you, what more is there to say?”

“I am githyanki,” X’aa’nath snarls, snatching the sword out of his dream visitor’s hands. “I am nothing like you. I am loyal to my Queen. I will bring her your head and be blessed with ascension.”

With no further hesitation X’aa’nath thrusts the sword through the dream visitor’s chest. Blood pours from the wound and the dream visitor gasps in pain.

“I really though you wouldn’t,” he grinds out. “We could have been so much more. But you had to choose this.”

The dream visitor fades from existence, then quickly reappears, completely healed and glaring at X’aa’nath.

“So you are not to be trusted.”

The sorcerer stumbles back, shaking his head and staring in shock.

“I don’t intend to make a habit of conversing with my killer, so I will be brief. Your survival depends on mine, and mine on yours. It is less than ideal, but it is where we stand. I know a secret that Vlaakith never wants to be revealed. It is the reason that she mobilized her people to retrieve the Astral Prism. It is why she sent you to kill me. And why she will kill you once you leave this place. Since we are both dependent on your ability to survive that, you would do well to remember that without me, you would become a mind flayer.”

“Lies!” X’aa’nath cries out. “You know nothing of my Queen!”

The dream visitor sneers and rolls his eyes. “Leave. I have a battle to return to.”

He waves his hand and X’aa’nath is thrown back through the portal.

Gale blinks, dazed as he withdraws from X’aa’nath’s memory.

Lae’zel scowls. “Vlaakith tavki na’zin! I see – only madness. My Queen knows my faith. She would never condemn me. But you… you have failed her.”

X’aa’nath’s eyes widen. “No, kin! I did as Vlaakith commanded; you saw the truth of it!”

“I should have been the one to go,” she growls. “I knew you could not be trusted with this.”

“Kin…?” X’aa’nath voice is small and unsure.

Lae’zel’s hand whips up and strikes X’aa’nath’s face with a sharp crack. “You are not my kin. You are not githyanki. You are the unwanted one… and you will always be other.”

A soft sound breaks in X’aa’nath’s throat, but otherwise he stands stoically in the face of Lae’zel’s condemnation. The red imprint of her hand blooms across his right cheek, standing out starkly against the pale gold of his skin.

Gale steps closer to him, attempting to be a reassuring presence without overwhelming the skittish sorcerer.

“Enough, Lae’zel!” Astarion snaps, stepping between the two gith, casting a slightly worried look toward X’aa’nath.

The younger gith avoids the vampire’s eyes, resolutely looking out at the broken rocks and gleaming stars as they drift by.

“Yes,” Lae’zel agrees. “We must go to the ch’r’rai. He will summon Vlaakith – she must know of this… this apostate.”

W’wargaz is waiting for them as they exit the planecaster, surrounded by a group of warriors. “Lae’zel – I have been waiting. You are named hshar’lak. Bend your head, for my blade is ready.”

“Ch’r’rai please summon Vlaakith!” she cries. “There is much she needs to be told!”

“She speaks truth, ch’r’rai!” X’aa’nath adds. “Please, allow us to explain.”

“She already knows of your failure, ghaik wretch,” W’wargaz sniffs disdainfully. “The queen has spoken – her death is decreed and yours will follow. You have shamed Khou’zal for the last time.”

Gale shoulders sag as the realization hits him; no matter the outcome of their trip to the Astral Plane, Vlaakith had no intention of letting any of them live. From the look on Astarion’s face, Gale surmises he has reached the same conclusion.

The faint hint of burning ozone fills the air and a brief touch of static caresses Gale’s exposed skin, sending a shiver crawling up his spine. He sucks in a deep breath as X’aa’nath takes a protective stance in front of his party members, his skin rippling with lightening he’s barely able to contain.

X’aa’nath grins maniacally as he stares down the ch’r’rai. “You want my head W’wargaz? Come and get it. Htak’a!”

He launches himself at W’wargaz and chaos erupts.

68 notes · View notes

storiesbyrhi · 11 months

Text

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: We speak to those beyond. 3668 words.

1986

Time was not linear. Nor was it circular. It was an overlapping collage of everything that had ever happened. A compressed murder board. A grimoire swallowed whole. Eddie remembered it all.

A century of Eptesicus fuscus, a shell of consciousness. Hawkins. A sickness. A witch’s healing hand. Before that, the flatlands. A coven. You. Oh, you, his little witch.

“Those are not your apples.” Cleansing crystals by moonlight. Amabel, little witch. Lonely vampire. Collecting flowers and berries. Green milkweed. Unconditional good. A forest gate. “Bloodline magic, far and wide.” A bet, a kiss, and a name. “I envy your world of absolutes. And I love you so.” Marguerite du Bruyeres’ letters to Guillaume du Bruyeres. Unmistakably vampire carnage. Blood of my blood.

Eddie let you slip onto the pillow, then escaped out of the trailer and into the early morning. The sun would rise soon but he needed to move. Run. Scream.

The sisters – Sally and Gillian. Penelope, the spellcaster. “By your hand he is taken and I die on this night, or you let us go and free yourself of this burden.” Transformation. Walking through the grass. Black-eyed Susan, tansy, elecampane, yellow carnation, cyclamen. Blood of my blood.

He remembered who he was before you. And before Roanoke. His accent and gait may have changed, but he was the same sad, doomed soul he’d been then. Still a monster.

Eddie sobbed. He went to the forest gate on the outskirts of town and laid in the grass, looking up at the starry sky, letting the shame and horror and regret drown him.

What was he to do? How would he tell you? Should he tell you? Would you be able to see it on his face?

He waited until the very last minutes of night to return to Forest Hills. Eddie moved slowly through the town; slowly, at least, for him. He could picture it all now, how it used to be. The dirt roads. The vacuum of quiet that proceeded the era of constant electrical white noise.

You slept well into the morning, but roused yourself before midday. Eddie was watching Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope. He seemed immersed, so you went about making breakfast. Assam tea with cocoa husks. Oatmeal with sultanas and brown sugar.

There was an awkwardness to Eddie when you sat next to him, curling up close enough to touch. Your mind cycled through possibilities with rapid fire speed. The notion it kept circling back to was – did he regret kissing you?

“Chewie reminds me of the creatures that live in the woods. Have you seen them? Over in the north-west?” you asked, trying to break the ice.

Eddie nodded. “They are shy,”

“Yeah. The humans don’t know about them. Well. They do, but most of them think it’s a hoax. They’re considered cryptids… Which is like, an animal or creature that may or may not exist…” You were rambling. “When they see one, they call it Bigfoot… But Chewie definitely looks like one.”

Eddie didn’t answer. You hadn’t appeared to notice the significance of him remembering something, even something innocuous like the existence of things in the woods.

You finished eating, washed your dishes, and returned to the couch. Star Wars ended and you had no real choice but to address the atmosphere.

“Are you okay?” you asked Eddie.

He looked at you, something in his expression you couldn’t quite place. He nodded. “Yes… Perhaps on edge regarding what your Witches will tell,”

“Yeah… Well then, let’s not put it off any longer.”

Directing Eddie to sit across the room, you knelt at your altar and lit two candles. A pale blue candle for truth. A darker indigo candle for intuition and breaking through illusion. With paper in front of you and a pen in hand, you closed your eyes.

The Witches Who Came Before were always with you, so you needn’t call for them. Instead, you spoke to them with clear intention.

“It is not my place to question you. But it is your place to guide me. To offer truth. Long ago, you foretold of us leaving the flatlands. Then, you warned me of returning. What would have happened if I had heeded that warning?”

The temperature of the room dropped and the air grew thick. Eddie felt his skin tingle and prickle, a frisson of fear and excitement running through him.

“I know you see him for what he is. Without him, Vecna would not have been defeated. Can you say without doubt that he would have been without my intervention?”

It was a challenge to them. If you and Eddie hadn’t destroyed Vecna, could your coven have stopped him? Could all the witches in the world have stop him? Maybe, sure. However, somewhere deep down you knew the answer. Vecna did not belong to this plane of existence. He wasn’t even of the world he inhabited. And a witch can only fight within the boundaries of the natural world.

If you had not come to Hawkins, if you had not found the bat and restored Eddie to his vampire form, Vecna would have taken the town, then the world.

The Witches were silent. It told you that you were right.

“You said that not all callings are sanctified, but that the voice calling me was coming into focus for you. Do you know what brought me here?”

The flames flickered and your hand picked up the signal. The words scrawled along the paper faster than you could read.

“Life and Death have no voice… They do not come calling in the night,” The Witches said. “Their siblings are to follow suit, yet they are wayward in their youth,”

“Which of their siblings called to me?” you asked.

“Destiny was formed in shattered ruins.”

The letters were so unfamiliar, you weren’t sure which witch was speaking to you. It didn’t matter. You had an answer. Destiny had broken free of the rules and reached out to you, urging you to come to Hawkins.

“If I was fated to return to Hawkins, then I was fated to find him?”

Y. E. S. was written over and over, the word tracing itself again and again.

“Why me?”

“Like calls to like. Fate to fate. Love to love,” they said. “History will not repeat itself,”

“A history I do not remember.”

For a moment, quiet. “Lore must be rewritten. You must remember.”

You looked over at Eddie, who could not see any of the words on the page. He was watching you intently, something so human behind his eyes.

“How?” you asked The Witches. “How can I remember?”

“By definition. Blood for blood. Magic for magic.”

You didn’t understand but it felt like enough information that you could figure it out. There was one more thing you needed to know. “The coven… Did I betray them or have they betrayed me?”

“Knowledge is… a creator’s prerogative.”

The pen dropped and the flames were snuffed by an unseen power. You breathed out and read the pages again. Eddie came to sit opposite you. He took the paper.

“Destiny is… a sentient thing?” Eddie asked.

“It’s not meant to be. Forces like fate and life and death shouldn’t… proactively… change the course of what happens on Earth. Not for good reason,”

“I assume we will not hear this reason from Destiny,”

“No… But… It’s an answer. I was called here to find you so we could kill Vecna.”

It was a hypothesis you had both considered. It should have felt satisfying to have it confirmed, yet it was a shallow kind of resolution.

“And, it had to be you,” Eddie said. He knew why it had to be you. No other witch would have saved a vampire. It pained him to see you confused and lost.

“When I get my memories back, I’ll know why it had to be me,”

“By definition. Blood for blood. Magic for magic,” Eddie read off the page. You nodded. “By definition, you are a witch, you are magic. Therefore, it is through magic that you will find your memories,” he reasoned.

It clicked into place in your mind. “And by definition, you are a vampire… blood… so… Through blood you’ll get yours back?” you guessed.

When you looked up at Eddie, you expected to see your own excited expression mirrored. Instead, there was restraint. He broke eye contact almost immediately and began to nod, standing up and walking away.

“Yes. Although I don’t-” he began.

“Stop,” you whispered.

You got up and followed him across the room, he took a step to move away from you but you grabbed him by the wrist. Eddie was helpless as you squinted your eyes and studied his face. When you figured it out, a small gasp slipped from your lips and you let go of him.

As you went to speak, your voice cracked and you had to start again. “How long?”

Eddie said your name with too much softness.

“No. No. Don’t… Don’t do that. How long have you remembered? Do you remember everything? When… When did you remember?” You felt like you were going to throw up.

It hurt.

Not the nausea or the sudden headache, but the deceit. You had thought you and Eddie were a united front. A team. But he had lied to you.

“Only last night, but-”

“Last night?! Was that before or after we…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Now that your face was contorted with fear and sadness, Eddie’s mirror yours.

“Please, let me tell you. I’ll tell you everything,” he begged. His hand reached out; he wanted to brush the tears from your cheeks.

You flinched and Eddie moved back in response.

Had you been stupid to trust a vampire? Was everything you felt about Eddie misguided? Were all your bad decisions going to lead to a reckoning, where excommunication was the best outcome you could hope for?

Eddie wanted desperately to spill it all out. To tell you everything that had happened in 1836. To warn you against trusting your coven. To help you find your memories, and maybe Kelsey’s too. But the more he pushed, the more you pulled away. He’d never had faith in anything, but he demanded it of himself in that moment. Have faith in fate. Have faith in his little witch.

Your mind was having trouble holding any one thought. Normally, you’d be cycling through them all, but it felt like your brain was empty. Long hallways leading to unfurnished rooms. Cavernous spaces. Haunted. You were frozen on the spot, watching Eddie watch you. Then, everything came into sharp focus at the sound of a knock on the trailer’s front door.

The tension was popped and you choked back a half-sob. Eddie hid himself in the bedroom, closing the door behind him, as you answered. He climbed onto the bed and curled up, regret washing over him as he closed his eyes and listened.

Sunlight poured in as the door swung open, Robin and Nancy’s shadows casting long across the trailer’s carpet. You frowned, at first, confused by their appearance. The grief was so intense that it was almost an entity standing beside them. You understood then.

“Hey,” Nancy greeted weakly.

“Hi,” you replied.

It felt strange following a normal social script with them. Yet, you all persisted.

“This is Dustin,” she introduced, taking a step to reveal a child standing behind her.

You knew who he was and nodded politely in his direction. He was already crying. Sighing, you looked away from them, out at Forest Hills. Life was returning to it, but you had been too busy with your own shit to notice.

“It might be too early for this,” you told them.

“It’s past midday,” Robin countered.

“No, I mean, too early in the grieving process. It’s only been a couple days,” you explained.

“Are you saying that… He won’t… Answer us… yet? Or that we aren’t ready to talk to him?” Nancy asked. “Because, no offense, but you don’t know us well enough to tell us if we’re ready,”

“We’re ready,” Robin added.

You sucked your bottom lip in, forgetting the split. You winced at the pain, tasted the blood. The blood. Was that how Eddie got his memory back? Had he kissed blood from your mouth and found history in it?

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” Dustin squeaked. The boy’s face was pure misery. His nose was red from rubbing it with tissues. His eyes were bloodshot. He was clenching his jaw.

Stepping aside, you nodded. “Okay. Come in.”

Eddie stayed where he was, knowing it was not his place to intrude on such a private event.

You cleared the altar in the middle of the lounge room and directed the teens to sit around it. They watched as you gathered items from around the place and mumbled to yourself while scribbling into a notebook.

“Where there is death, there have always been attempts to commune with the dead. It is not a practice that belongs strictly to witches. Since the beginning of time, humans have sought out methods to speak to those they’ve lost. Where connection has been made, it is usually more to do with the dead than the methods of the living, but nonetheless, it has happened.”

Nancy was listening intently, ever the student. Robin and Dustin both looked at each other, sharing inpatient expressions.

“It’s important to understand history. If you want to participate in the craft, you owe it at least that,” you told them. “Our way of bridging us and them is dependent on the dead. How they appear is dictated by them entirely,”

“What does that mean?” Nancy asked.

“It means, I can send them a message and open the doorway, but if and how they walk through it has nothing to do with me. They could send a single message back. Just an echo I hear. Their form may appear, ready to hold conversation. Alternatively, they may close the door and lock it. You need to be prepared for any of these outcomes,”

“He’ll want to talk to us,” Dustin said. “I know he will.”

You hoped he was right.

If the altar was at the center of an invisible pentagram, you placed an object at each point. A small plate of chunks of cedarwood, burning slowly. Black onyx. Sprigs of vervain. A bowl of moon water. Finally, a white candle burning at where the top of the pentagram would be.

You sat at the altar and used a pin to open a tiny wound in your finger. Closing your eyes and letting the blood roll down your hand, you spoke. “I offer my blood, the blood of a born witch, in payment of passage into the ether.” You opened your eyes and looked at the teens. “You can call to him,” you instructed.

They looked between themselves, silently figuring out who would go first. Naturally, Nancy took a deep breath in. Her eyes glazed over with tears. Her voice was small. “Steve? Are you there?”

She looked to you for guidance; you nodded for her to continue.

“Steve… It’s Nancy… Robin and Dustin are here too… We…” She had to stop to steel her nerves. “We miss you. And. Um. We… we wanted…” It was suddenly impossible for her to say the words ‘to say goodbye.’ Nancy started to cry.

“Hey- hey, dingus,” Robin took over. “Are you there? You’re probably busy… hitting on ghost chicks already… But, um, if you could just… just tune in for a minute…”

Everyone’s attention snapped to the bowl of water as it shook and spilled. You felt him first. Warmth. Steve Harrington felt warm.

“He’s here,” you told them. “He’s listening.”

They all focused, trying to sense what you did. Slowly, his outline was becoming visible to you. He was behind his friends, leaning against the trailer’s wall, by the door. Steve’s arms were crossed against his chest and one leg was folded, foot flat against the wall. He appeared casual, already at peace with his death.

“Your friends wanted to say goodbye to you,” you said to him.

“Are you like…” Steve waved his hands in the air. “Like a witch?”

You nodded.

“All this is… Are you a- a good witch?”

“Was that a genuine question or are you quoting The Wizard of Oz?” you asked him.

Robin covered her face with her hands as Dustin rolled his eyes.

“I thought dying, might, you know, level him up?” Dustin whispered through his tears.

“I can hear you,” Steve said.

“Does he know we tried… we…” Nancy cut through the comedy with her grief, getting stuck on her words again.

Steve nodded. He moved through the trailer, his form semi-transparent and snapping with residual energy. He sat next to you, looking over at his friends.

“He knows you tried to save him. He knows you didn’t want to leave him there,” you told them.

“Tell Dustin that he doesn’t need to feel guilty. I’m glad he wasn’t there,” Steve said.

“It’s good you weren’t there, Dustin. Steve is thankful you were safe and that you didn’t have to see him in the end,”

“And tell him that he’s the coolest kid I ever knew. That I figured that out on the train tracks. He’s cool and he’s so smart. Twice as smart as me. More, probably. He’s gonna grow up and be the kind of man I wish I was.”

You watched Steve as he spoke. The way he looked at Dustin with admiration in his eyes. Like this kid who probably worshipped him was actually the hero of the group.

You relayed Steve’s message word-for-word. Dustin whimpered and let Nancy wrap an arm around him.

“Thanks, man,” Dustin managed to get out. “I love you.”

Steve looked to Robin next. “I don’t know how to explain it to her,” he told you.

“It’s okay. I think she’ll understand,”

“Yeah… That’s it though. She gets me. And I get her. Like… I feel normal around her. I can just be… me. She’s my best friend… I have a shit load of regrets but not knowing Robin sooner is right at the top of that list. Tell her… that she’s so much braver than she thinks she is. And that she’s smart in a way nobody else is… And that she totally deserves to be loved. And not by some girl who keeps it a secret. Nothing like that. She deserves the whole love story movie thing… romantic comedy with the happy ending. Can you tell her that?”

You could and you did.

Robin nodded to herself in a self-soothing action, then pulled her knees up to her chest and started to rock. Steve frowned at her.

“Tell her that she should still go on the trip we were thinking about,”

“He says you should still go on the trip,” you said to her.

Robin barked out a broken laugh. “Sunshine, beers, and babes,” she said.

“Oh! And tell her if someone pauses Fast Times at Ridgemont High at 53 minutes and 5 seconds, she knows what it means.”

Robin laughed again and nodded. “Noted.”

Steve nodded along with her. “Maybe she should take Nancy on the trip. They’d actually make really good friends if they got to know each other,”

“I think they’re doing that,” you told him.

“That’s good…” He looked at Nancy. “I had the chance to tell her everything, near the end. Got some of it… Tell her… Shit. I don’t know how to say it without sounding like I’m blowing smoke up her ass,”

“You’re up Nancy. He needs a second. Says he doesn’t know how to tell you what he needs to without sounding like he’s blowing smoke up your ass.”

Everyone laughed. Except Steve. He held his hands up in question. “What the hell, man? You said you were a good witch!”

You liked Steve.

“Okay… She needs to really believe what I told her. About how she really helped me stop being such an asshole. And that it’s okay how it ended between us. I was stuck in the present but Nancy sees the future. Big plans, you know? She should know that’s a good thing.”

As soon as you started to give Nancy the message, she burst into tears again.

“Tell her that I love that she always trusts her gut. And that she’ll always look so hot with a shotgun… And tell her that I’ll say hi to Barb for her.”

The room fell into silence after the last of Nancy’s goodbye was said. Nobody was ready to move on just yet. After a few minutes of reflection, Steve’s form began to flicker. He knew what it meant. When you sat up straight, the others all looked at you.

“I gotta go,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” you replied softly. “Here. Hold my hand.”

Steve frowned, unsure of what would happen. Still, he thought it best to do what a good witch said. He took your hand and felt a zap of electricity or something magic.

“Any last words?” you asked him.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. The others all gasped. Steve looked to them then back to you. “They can hear me?”

Robin started to sob again. Dustin nodded.

“Oh, shit, okay. Shit… Hi… Shit…”

“It’s okay,” you told him, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah… Uh… Just… It’s okay, you know? It… it had to be this way. There’s already plenty of Steves in the world, you know? But there’s only one Dustin Henderson. One Robin Buckley. One Nancy Wheeler. The world needs you guys. So, it’s okay. I’m okay. I love you.”

The others cried and said goodbye. They held each other and let themselves feel it all.

Steve’s hand slowly faded out of yours, until there was nothing left but his warmth and the memory of him etched into his friends' minds like love letters swiped through wet concrete.

End Note: This chapter was written very much in collab with @dr-aculaaa, my resident Steve expert. Thank you so much! I hope you like how the scene turned out.

Chapter seventeen is a little bit of an interlude, it's an ode to both Steve and to the magic that runs through this story. But also... now she knows Eddie knows... yikes.

Grimoire updated!

Fic Taglist: @paranoidmunson @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel

#Burning Yarrow #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Reader Insert #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson x Reader #Vampire!Eddie Munson

123 notes · View notes

juststoriesintheend · 2 months

Note

What would an au where Sol lives look like?

ohohohohoh boy howdy have i been thinking about this

i have a couple ideas, one for my horny brain that is in love with him and one that's more logical. since i've already kind of summarized my horny thoughts into a vague fic idea, i'll focus on a more logical string of thoughts

when vernestra finds him, he's barely clinging on to life (it's giving palpatine + vader parallels quite frankly)

they get him back on the ship, get him an oxygen mask, and eventually return to coruscant, but all the medical assistance in the world can't un-do the power of the force wrapped around your throat

his voice is permanently changed, much more hoarse and painful for him to talk. he has memory problems bc being deprived of oxygen for that long gave him brain damage

he stands trial for what he did on brendok 16 years ago. i feel like he might be able to be talked into taking the fall for every single death on khofar too, but if not then i could vernestra waving it away as "osha attacked him to save her own life & now he's delirious w/ grief and has lost his grip on reality"

maybe he's exiled? maybe he's sent to prison on coruscant? i think either way, he is no longer a jedi and he's going somewhere to rot for his crimes, and he goes willingly bc he feels like he deserves it

if he's aware that mae is with the jedi, he'd probably be torn between letting her be and being obsessed with reconnecting with her - to ease his conscience? to beg for death? he probably doesn't even know what he wants

all sol knows is that he made a mistake and he (and everyone he's ever loved) paid for it at osha's hand. he's plagued by flashbacks and nightmares. when he talks to other jedi or prisoners about a sith villain who threatens the republic, he's written off as a crazy old man

and maybe he is. osha choking him snapped his mind, it utterly broke him. if he had died there, it might have been enough to heal him, cleanse him of his sins. but surviving has only allowed his guilt to thrive. bc death would have been his penance

basically, he's still scapegoated and he probably loses his sanity over the years. i do not see anything happy or good for him in this scenario

which is why i don't like to think about it lol

alternatively, in some happier universe:

i like the idea of sol being able to escape. maybe vernestra thinks he's really dead bc he's quite literally on the cusp between life and death. and when she starts to drag him off for a sad, lonely jedi funeral, she realizes he's alive and mostly an amnesiac, so she decides to help him

she does what she can to help him heal in whatever short time she has and then she sends him off in an escape pod, gives him this second chance to go somewhere and live out the rest of his life in peace

the jedi he once was died on brendok, at his daughter's hand. now he can just be sol. no guilt or trauma to weigh him down. he can be a farmer. or a tradesman. a teacher. he can live

i think sol always wanted to be a father but couldn't bc of the way the order is structured/the jedi tenets, so maybe in this alternate life he can adopt some other orphan (amnesiacs sol and mae becoming found family for each other, anyone??)

maybe he meets someone his own age that he can love and become attached to in a better, slightly healthier way. someone he can wake up beside and dote upon. someone who makes him want to be the best person he can be

pls for the love of god, let this man have something happy for once in his life

#master sol #star wars #the acolyte #the acolyte spoilers #idk if this is anything but here u go my friend #requests

23 notes · View notes

risingofjupiter · 2 years

Text

first arrival - felix x gn!reader

warnings - suggests reader has medium/long length hair. some mentions of blood, not too much tho <3

a/n - just some fluffy felix headcannons! (god this man is gorgeous)

imagine.. felix being one of the only people to take some interest in you when you’re first brought onto the island.

felix having to show you around because he’s “more responsible” than the other lost boys. (peter’s just realizing felix needs bitches)

you and felix actually having a lot in common and being able to spark multiple interesting conversations, between the two of you.

you saying something positive about his scar and felix has to turn away to make sure you can’t see the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

almost tripping on a random tree root in front of you, when felix grabs your arm and pulls you near him to make sure you aren’t gonna fall.

realizing how close you two are, felix lightly shoves you away and continues marching through the tour.

felix showing you where your tent is and not realizing himself, that he’s been standing there staring, until you turn around and make eye contact with him.

he turns around and walks off to the bonfire, feeling slightly embarrassed. busy’s himself with collecting wood for the fire.

approaching the bonfire and making yourself comfortable, felix will glance up at you, through the fire, every now and then.

accidentally cuts his finger with his knife, that he was sharpening, looking at you. felix not minding the deep-ish cut too much, but pan insisting that he get it cleaned, at least.

“coincidentally” you being one of the few that know how to properly examine and cleanse a wound. felix remembering that fact, and cautiously walks over to you.

he stands in front of you just holding out his finger for you to see, not entirely sure of how to ask for your assistance.

“uh.. earlier you mentioned, you used to be a nurse’s assistant. help me with this?”

grabbing felix’s hand to get a closer look at the cut, while making felix flush in the process. (poor baby isn’t used to all that physical contact)

“yep, that’s an easy fix,” you stand up, pulling felix along. “i have some supplies i brought, in my tent.”

you setting felix down on a little stool in your tent, while you fish out some of the medical tools you managed to bring.

felix watching you the entire time, not being able to believe such a gentle creature found it’s way onto harsh lands.

taking hold of felix’s hand again, gentler this time, you slowly wipe away the excess blood, with a rag, then begin to apply some disinfectant gel.

hair getting in your face, you attempt to brush it out of the way with your elbow, but to no use. until felix softly tucks the stray locks of hair behind your ear.

you pause for half a second, then remembering why felix is in your tent in the first place, you continue applying the gel.

finishing as you put a small bandage on it, you speak, “all done! should heal by tomorrow felix.” with a nod and a squeezing of his left hand, you’re off putting away your supplies.

felix sits there a moment, with a small curve of a smile on his lips, thinking to himself. ‘i don’t think i’ll mind getting hurt from now on.’

thank you for reading! feel free to leave any requests or thoughts :)

comment to be added to my taglist ❦

#parker croft #felix x reader #ouat felix #fluff #peter pan x reader #gn!reader #felix imagines #once upon a time

436 notes · View notes

secteel · 7 months

Text

Why was Yamamura locked up?

Back to lore digging because I had so many questions, and so many personal headcanons without actually sharing them to see if some people agreed, but the League's been on my mind for the most part! I always wondered why Yamamura was locked up in the dungeons (going mad/blood-drunk usually meant the Hunter of Hunters would come for you rather than getting imprisoned I assumed), if he had been locked up in the living world at all. So far, we just see him in such state in the Nightmare, but considering Maria spent the later half of her life in the Research Hall, and that it is where we find her in the Nightmare, I had reasons to believe that Yamamura got locked up at some point, and died in his cell like Gracia did. ''Shrouded by night, but with steady stride. Colored by blood, but always clear of mind. Proud hunter of the church. Beasts are a curse, and a curse is a shackle. Only ye are the true blades of the church.'' That chant sounded more like a mantra when I first heard it, and upon the thought of people imprisoning Hunters who had gone mad or gone against the Healing Church's dogma (like Gracia in her own cell who is found in a praying position), I suspect that Yamamura was probably tormented over and over again, most likely through torture, to the point of not being capable of any form of speech rather than reciting the same chant over and over again. After all, when we find him, he keeps on bashing his head against the wall- ''There shall be no sympathy for those engaged in the bloody mission of the League. No matter that an oath must be taken to uphold the illusion.'' - League Staff

Now with that in mind, we already know that Yamamura went mad after years and years working for the League, and that he eventually died. That description kinda gives off the impression that the Church did not really like the League as a whole (considering you find Valtr in the woods and that he seems rather disgusted by the 'mad doctors'). We know the Healing Church isn't so keen on sharing much of their knowledge with Yharnamites, let alone foreigners who take up arms to fight against beasts without seeking their support (I mean Valtr, Yamamura, and Madaras cannot really be considered Yharnamites, and we know that Gascoigne parted from the Church at some point). Therefore, it could be somewhat plausible for Church Hunters to have locked up Yams under the intention of "fixing the madman by reminding him who is in charge of Yharnam". ''A standard hunter's hat, worn by Yamamura the Wanderer. This hat and staff were given to him when he became a hunter and confederate of the League.'' - Yamamura Hunter Hat Also! He's not wearing his hat in the cells when we find him! It's a very interesting detail considering Fromsoft games do not do things randomly. Maybe he abandoned his oath when he went mad? Maybe the Church took it away from him to truly strip him from any attachment he had in the past? Maybe the Church was twisted enough at that point for their Hunters to truly believe that tormenting a poor foreign man with nothing to lose would bring him salvation and cleanse his soul.

"Perhaps there is some mercy in the madness. Those who wish to see vermin can, and those who choose to are provided with boundless purpose.'' - Vermin All in all, I'm not so sure as to why exactly Yamamura was locked up, but I'm certain it has something to do with more than just going mad from working for so long for the League. I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts though!

#bloodborne #soulsborne #the old hunters #yamamura the wanderer #old hunter yamamura #bloodborne lore #the league #bloodborne league #valtr master of the league #younger madaras twin #fromsoftware #the healing church

52 notes · View notes

poisonnxkki · 1 year

Text

Mistakes I Made In The Beginning Of My Practice🦋

What Makes Something a Mistake?

How do we define a mistake? How do we know when we've messed up? These were questions that haunted me in the beginning of my practice. I was overly worried about doing things wrong and having to pay the price for those mess ups. The uncertainty of it all made me really hesitant to start experimenting in my craft. I would later come to terms with the fact that mistakes are inevitable, but as a beginner I was definitely intimidated.

The truth is, I'm not really sure there's a surefire way to know if something is a mistake until we've messed up. Spell work can be tricky in the sense that we often define our own parameters of success. This means that a spell can be failure to one person and a success to another based on their personal views of what success means. If a spell has consequences that we don't intend it to have or manifests in a way we weren't expecting, does that constitute as a failure? Sometimes yes and sometimes no. In my opinion the best way to determine if something's a mistake is to mess up. You won't know until things go wrong.

How I Rectify Mistakes:

To start, remember mistakes are inevitable. We can't avoid them and we shouldn't try to. Sometimes spell work isn't going to manifest in the way we were expecting. Sometimes our spells are going to force us to confront uncomfortable truths or set boundaries in order to get what we want, and there may be no other way around that. This is a reality that we should strive to accept rather than avoid.

But what happens when we actually do mess up? How do we go about fixing what we've done? I follow a few guidelines which help me determine what my next steps should be and hopefully these are helpful for you too.

Determine what has happened and if the spell is influencing the situation- the effects of some spells are relatively short lived so if the spell isn't currently influencing the situation then you're on damage control (and a good cleansing should be enough). However, some spells (often spells that are contained within a vessel or are tethered to you) need to be undone first.

Cleanse or banish- depending on the type of spell you may feel like cleansing just isn't enough. If that's the case, doing a banishment of the effects/energy of your previous spell should do the trick.

Mundane over magical- the effects of spell work often show up in our daily lives so taking the time to fix/heal from life events is super important.

Reflect- it's important to try and understand exactly what went wrong. Were you specific enough? What ingredients did you use? What order? What did your petition say (if you used one)? Where was your mind when you were casting? Going over how you did the spell can be helpful when determining what went wrong. It's important to reiterate that sometimes our spells are going to force us to confront uncomfortable truths or set boundaries in order to get what we want. Something that feels like a mistake now, could play an important role in you getting what you want later on so keep that in mind.

Mistakes I've Made:

I've talked about this before but I once did self-love spell for myself and a group of friends. This was fine, my mistake was trying to do them at the same time. I ended up accidentally binding myself to all of them. Months later we had a major falling out, which inevitably ended our friendship and was especially difficult on me. I was sick for several days and ended up doing several chord cutting spells to rectify the situation.

I was struggling with severe anxiety a few years ago and decided to do a spell to help with it. The problem was that I didn't define what I wanted from the spell. I kinda just said "no more anxiety" and lit the flame. When doing this spell, social situations had been the driving force behind my anxiety. However, it became health related after this spell. I should have been more clear in my intention when doing that spell but more importantly, I should have known that there is no "easy" fix for anxiety.

My first baneful protection was a blunder because it didn't work. I was nervous about messing up, which caused me to. Something I find influences baneful protections are boundaries (and our ability to set them). If you can't set boundaries in the physical world, then you aren't going to be able to set them energetically (in my personal opinion). I was an absolute pushover in relationships. I let people take advantage of my kindness and had trouble putting my foot down. My energy reflected that and the baneful protection did absolutely nothing, it was both a waste of ingredients and time.

🖤*All images are from Pinterest*

202 notes · View notes

thewitcheslibrary · 6 months

Text

Grounding 101

Grounding and centering are two of the most important things a witch should know, especially because they often work with energy. The purpose of grounding and centering is to stabilise your energy, draw energy from the Earth, and produce a positive state of being.

Your energy reflects your emotions. It's your "vibe", where your mind has strayed, when you get goosebumps, frightened sweats, or happy tears.

I am sure you can feel your vitality if you concentrate hard enough. Unground energy might feel "fluttery": a racing heart, butterflies in the stomach, and stray thoughts. Noticing your energy is the first step towards grounding, and the more you practise it, the better you will get at tuning in.

Your energy is the first line of protection for how you move through the world: do you recall the proverb "sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me"? Words have the potential to injure or heal, depending on your energy level. Have you ever felt that someone's words punched you in the gut? They basically pummelling your energies (particularly your solar plexus). Sometimes the punch continues to strike even after the person who delivered it has left. Anyone who follows the news knows this for certain! But it's not only about the "bad" stuff; when we're very excited about something, it may be tough to stay in the moment as we wait.

Even if you don't receive one of those gut-punches, you might sometimes lose your energy. Have you ever felt like you arrived home but your thoughts was still in the grocery store? Grounding your energy in your area can help you set clear limits for who gets your energy and when. It might make you feel comfortable and supported rather than unbound. Grounding may help those who don't have a secure physical spot to call home, as well as anybody dealing through trauma and facing triggers, discover a safe place within themselves while they manage the issue.

How to ground yourself-

Take a deep, deep inhalation through your nostrils and hold for a second. Exhale through your mouth until all of your breath is out. Repeat as many times as necessary to feel present.

Position both feet or hands firmly on the ground and concentrate on the four corners of your palms or soles in succession. Focus on your base to feel as stable as possible.

Take a bath or shower and cleanse yourself from the top down. Focus on sending unnecessary or unbalanced energy down with the water.

Take a few deep breaths while picturing a ball of light at the base of your spine. Use your mental skills to imagine it spinning and spinning, catching any loose energy (like spinning cotton candy into a bundle), and then pushing it down into the earth. For a more in-depth ritual, repeat this process for each of your energy centres, beginning at the top and working your way down.

To anchor yourself in your environment, sprinkle salt on the floor and spend a few seconds visualising it shining with rainbow light, connecting with your own light and bringing down any unwanted energy. Then sweep up the salt and discard it.

Make any activity that needs your focus into a grounding ritual: making coffee, combing your hair, writing, gardening, cooking, or anything else that speaks to your spirit and keeps you in the present now.

Light a candle and focus your attention on the flame. Firegazing has been psychologically proved to help focus your mind and relax your energies. If you're using a scented candle, take deep breathes and enjoy the aroma and warmth.

Hold a grounding crystal or use a grounding essence during any of these tasks to summon extra help. Darker-colored stones tend to be the most grounding, although even rock from outside works (and may even work best).

#pagan witch #witch #witchblr #witchcore #witchcraft #grounding #centering

20 notes · View notes

orthodoxadventure · 5 months

Note

I ask for a prayer. I've been dealing with increased anger and anxiety recently. Certainly a symptom of neglecting my spiritual needs the past few months. If you will, pray that I get back on the right path. Please and thank you. God bless.

I'm sorry to hear that you've been struggling with anxiety and anger recently, and I pray that both of these things improve for you. Of course I will keep you in my prayers.

Some prayers you might find helpful are under the readmore

Prayer Against Fear

O Greatly-merciful Master, Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me and cleanse me from every sadness and disturbance and cowardice. Drive away from me every spiritual choking and demonic sorrow, that I sense in my body and my soul. For You are our Joy, and the hope of all the ends of the earth, and those far off at sea. Be merciful to me, O Master, upon my sins. Take from me the heavy burden of sin and despair. Drive far away from me every sadness and laziness. Confirm me in Your Love, and with unassailable hope and unshakable faith in You, through the intercessions of Your Spotless Mother, and all Your Saints. Amen.

Another Prayer Against Fear

O Master, Lord my God, in Whose hands is my destiny: Help me according to Thy mercy, and leave me not to perish in my transgressions, nor allow me to follow them who place desires of the flesh over those of the spirit.

I am Thy creation; disdain not the work of Thy hands. Turn not away; be compassionate and humiliate me not, neither scorn me, O Lord, as I am weak. I have fled unto Thee as my Protector and God. Heal my soul, for I have sinned against Thee. Save me for Thy mercy’s sake, for I have cleaved unto Thee from my youth; let me who seeks Thee not be put to shame by being rejected by Thee for mine unclean actions, unseemly thoughts, and unprofitable remembrances. Drive away from me every filthy thing and excess of evil.

For Thou alone art holy, alone mighty, and alone immortal, in all things having unexcelled might, which, through Thee, is given to all that strive against the devil and the might of his armies. For unto Thee is due all glory, honor and worship: To the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen

Prayer Against Adversity

Dear heavenly Lord, It’s as if I take One step forward and Two steps back. Things go wrong In the most unexpected ways. It seems like the whole world Works against me sometimes. And my failure ties me up in knots. Yet I know one thing, For Your Word has told me, That I am not alone. So once again I call out to You, Rise up, oh Lord, rise up! Strike down the resistance and fear That seek to silence my faith. Give me strength and clarity To continue, no matter How hard the wind blows against me. I believe in Your promise. You will not abandon me. I trust in the resurrection That sets my soul free. You are my almighty God And I am Your beloved child. Christ won this for me Upon the cross. Only by Your grace, According to Your holy will, In Jesus name, Amen.

Prayer to Overcome Panic Attacks

Lord, I come to You and I thank You for drawing near to me when I draw near to You. To think that You are mindful of me — it overwhelms my soul. But Lord, today my spirit is heavy and my body is weak. I cannot bear the weight of this anxiety and panic any longer. I recognize I can’t get through this alone, and I pray against the very active enemy who is trying to shake my faith and tear us apart. Help me stand strong in You. Fortify these weary bones and remind me of the truth that this pain and panic will not last forever. It will pass.

Fill me with Your joy, peace and perseverance, Father. Restore my soul and break the chains of anxiety and panic that bind me. I trust You with my panic and I know that You have the power to take it all away. But even if You don’t, I know I don’t have to be a slave to my fear. I can rest in the shadow of Your wings and I will rise and overcome by Your unwavering strength. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Bless My Enemies, O Lord

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Enemies have driven me into your embrace more than friends have.

Friends have bound me to earth, enemies have loosed me from earth and have demolished all my aspirations in the world.

Enemies have made me a stranger in worldly realms and an extraneous inhabitant of the world. Just as a hunted animal finds safer shelter than an unhunted animal does, so have I, persecuted by enemies, found the safest sanctuary, having ensconced myself beneath your tabernacle, where neither friends nor enemies can slay my soul.

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

They, rather than I, have confessed my sins before the world.

They have punished me, whenever I have hesitated to punish myself. They have tormented me, whenever I have tried to flee torments. They have scolded me, whenever I have flattered myself. They have spat upon me, whenever I have filled myself with arrogance.

Bless my enemies, O Lord, Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Whenever I have made myself wise, they have called me foolish. Whenever I have made myself mighty, they have mocked me as though I were a dwarf. Whenever I have wanted to lead people, they have shoved me into the background. Whenever I have rushed to enrich myself, they have prevented me with an iron hand. Whenever I thought that I would sleep peacefully, they have wakened me from sleep. Whenever I have tried to build a home for a long and tranquil life, they have demolished it and driven me out.

Truly, enemies have cut me loose from the world and have stretched out my hands to the hem of your garment.

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Bless them and multiply them; multiply them and make them even more bitter against me:

so that my fleeing to You may have no return; so that all hope in men may be scattered like cobwebs; so that absolute serenity may begin to reign in my soul; so that my heart may become the grave of my two evil twins, arrogance and anger; so that I might amass all my treasure in heaven; ah, so that I may for once be freed from self-deception, which has entangled me in the dreadful web of illusory life.

Enemies have taught me to know what hardly anyone knows, that a person has no enemies in the world except himself.

One hates his enemies only when he fails to realize that they are not enemies, but cruel friends.

It is truly difficult for me to say who has done me more good and who has done me more evil in the world: friends or enemies.

Therefore bless, O Lord, both my friends and enemies.

A slave curses enemies, for he does not understand. But a son blesses them, for he understands. For a son knows that his enemies cannot touch his life. Therefore he freely steps among them and prays to God for them.

#prayer #prayer request #prayer req #anxiety #mental health

17 notes · View notes

ladypiscesmoon · 7 months

Text

Timothée Chalamet & Armie Hammer

This reading was done on the 27th of February and is alleged/for entertainment purposes only.

It has been a while since I read for these two. I think I did the last full reading last October, when they weren’t on great terms. I checked in a couple of times after that, but it didn’t change. Armie needed space and Timmy gave him exactly that.

I have had a lot of asks for these two, also when I wasn’t able to answer due to my health problems. But here we go:

From the words and pictures tarot & the Prism oracle:

Judgement reversed (doubt, self-loathing, lack of self awareness) & cleanse (love and appreciation for yourself, wiping away dust and grime, reveal the shine underneath bringing a sense of calm, ease and clarity)

As difficult it was for Timmy (I sense he felt betrayed and very lonely) I think Armie needed this time to make up his mind. After his anger faded, he was really hurt for a long time and still is. But he started to remember the times he was really happy with Tim. These two will always find their way back to each other, so it seems.

9 of cups (contentment, wishes come true, comfort, emotional, stability) & creativity (embrace magic, enjoy the process), caution ( don’t rush things, slow down, listen to your inner voice, proceed with care)

What I picked up from this: yes, I think Armie finally reached out to Timmy. Both have to proceed with care, though. I think they really have to talk about what they expect from each other and talk about boundaries. They shouldn’t rush or they will have the same problems again. Also I sensed that Timmy really literally has to slow down. I’m worried he will burn himself out. Apparently he’s sick now, a sign that he has to listen to his body.

The lovers (choices, relationship, union of harmony, full of trust, confidence and strength. Physical attraction and inner harmony) & peace (bring a sense of peace into your lives after a period of turmoil as a sign of healing, reflect on opening your heart, stillness together), determination (reach your goals, the summit of the mountain is within reach)

Love is not the issue here. It’s obvious their connection is strong. But that’s not always enough. Except for free will, one must always be willing to grow in a relationship, to be vulnerable, to communicate, to not be afraid of taking a leap. So I think this is hopeful, but they have to work for it. And I think they’re willing to work for it after this period of separation.

King of pentacles reversed ( greed, indulgence, obsessiveness with financial success, desire for things, temptation) & reflection (mirroring, teaching, encouraging to move forward, make important changes in your life, deep self-inquiring)

I think that Armie actually thought that Timmy was weak in accepting offers from the Kardashian’s and that he was over-ambitious or had a little bit of an ego. Strangely enough, I think Armie mirrors that, when he was younger he also did things he’s not proud of and even now he’s not always thinking before he acts. So he was hurt, yes, but I feel that Tim thought: well, you can make mistakes, but I can’t?

Now that Armie is a bit cooled off, he reflects on good things and wants to move on from this.

5 of pentacles reversed (recovery, isolation) & intuition (where is it guiding you? What does it tell you?

They should now build the contact up again, hopefully they will.

The secret language of the soul

Heal your masculine aspect, transform old situations into new possibilities, lovingly speak your truth, ground yourself

I purchased this deck a month ago and I really like it. What is the message here?

Thoughts: work on healing and resentment, create a balance. Let go of what no longer serves you, it will be uncomfortable but it will lead you into greater freedom and harmony. There are a lot of possibilities to make it work, if you two will do the work and TALK to each other. Take responsibility for your own role in the situation and think about how it impacted the other. Take responsibility for past behaviour, be honest with each other, mature, develop trust. Learn how to be vulnerable instead of acting in anger if you’re hurt.

Love oracle cards & lovers oracle

What would they like to say to each other?

Armie: top row

Timmy: bottom row

Heart shape cards: both. Of course the soulmate card came out, I was expecting that, I don’t think I ever did a reading for these guys without the twin flame card, or the soulmate card.

Armie is clearly ready to move past this and try to mend things. Tim seems to want to build up their communication. Not today ( the last card), I feel has more to do with him avoiding to much stress, because he feels sick and exhausted. I don’t feel he is not wanting to talk to Armie. But yeah, he certainly could do with a break from press and promotion.

This concludes the reading. Bear in mind, readers can interpret cards in different ways, this is what I pick up, and what I feel. Be nice to each other!

If you have any questions about this reading or other things, feel free to ask.

#celebrity tarot #celeb tarot #armie hammer #timothée chalamet

24 notes · View notes