#I can project my religious trauma on him and make it so sexy

[mishwanders]

• Fierce Deity • Rain •

Summary: The Fierce Deity falls into the hands of someone who isn’t afraid of him.

Genre/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Smut, Minor cooking accident (slight burn that gets taken care of) GN!Reader. Minors DNI with this one.

Author’s Notes: I am so soft for the fierce deity, so I was COMPELLED to write for him. This fic was written by Mishwanders. Do not take or repost it anywhere as your own.

The Fierce Deity was not used to the kindness of others. Even before he had been subjected to the curse of the mask, he was more often than not met with the sharpness of bared teeth and blades, the touch of cold steel and greedy hands desperately reaching him, leaving him only with the sting of battle that dug into his bones.

As the turn of time drew on, he found himself growing weary of it. Even if his deeds were of noble intent - to protect the people of the land no matter the cost - someone always found a way to manipulate his honest intentions, breaking down his resolve little by little, tainting his view and his faith in those who lived in this realm. He truly thought all hope might have been lost for them all, but that was before he met you.

It was just by chance that you’d stumbled upon the place where he had last been hidden, picking up his mask out of the darkness and pulling him into the light. You had looked at him curiously, seeing how worn down the mask was, the marks on its face having faded, the wood cracking from the years of wear and tear. As you stared at him, wondering how it could have ended up behind a rock outside in the forest, he was staring back up at you, taking in all the details of your face, how the sun crowned your head, adorning you in its light. You looked like a shining gem to him and he was certain that he saw you in his fate from that point on.

After that, you had brought the mask into your home with the intention of fixing it, unaware of the power the mask or who it contained. You handled it with care, gently cleaning off the smudges of dirt from the surface, gluing the cracks, buffing the rough textures and edges away, mending the tattered hat, and even repainting the color back onto it. It was the first time in a long time that the Fierce Deity had ever felt the vigor of life be restored to him, it was the first time he’d ever felt so cared for by anyone in his life. You didn’t have to do any of it, but you had done it out of the goodness of your own, never expecting anything in return, and that had done more than restored what little hope he had left in this place and its creatures.

In turn for the care he listened intently to every word that you spoke, every song that you hummed, every story that you told him, what you liked and disliked. You talked to the mask as if you knew he was really there, as if he were a friend. He reveled in learning more about you and your life, and found himself developing a desire to protect you, to protect the kindness you had, to protect the joy that emanated off of you.

He wanted nothing more than to come to life and let you know who he really was, to pledge his allegiance to you, to speak the words through his sealed lips.

He wanted you to know that he cared about you, but being bound to his curse, he was unable to break past the wooden barrier by wishes alone. So, he waited patiently, making a home on your mantle, watching over you, awaiting for the day that the possibility of breaking his curse could arise.

That day did arrive, in the most unexpected of ways. He heard you scream in agony and feared the worst. His desperation to come to your aid was strong, his need to protect you breaking the bounds of the seal of his curse, and just like magic, he felt himself changing. The mask flew off the mantle and onto the wooden floor below, his body reshaping behind it. When his body was fully reformed, he pushed himself off the ground and made his way quickly to you to see how exactly you needed his aid.

He found you in the kitchen, holding your hand, your eyes tightly shut from the pain. He examined you with his white eyes, making sure there were no other issues, and then a glance around the room to see if there was a perpetrator of your pain. When you opened your eyes again you froze in place, looking up at him in shock, trying to figure out how the mask you owned had turned into a man in your kitchen. He looked back down at you with a look of worry. He held out his hand to you, offering to help.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing - I just burned my hand on the cooking pot. I just need a potion -”

He quickly left the room to grab the bottle of potion and returned, pulling out a chair for you to sit down on. He settled down on one knee to be at your level, tending to the wound and wrapping it up in a bandage. You watched him as he silently took care of you, feeling the sensation of his fingertips over your skin. He did not feel like he was made of wood, but out of flesh and bone, as if he had always existed like this. When he was finished he looked back up at you and you couldn’t help but ask if he were real.

“Are you actually here?”

He nodded in response and brought your hand up to his face, allowing you to touch his cheek. It felt just as human as his fingers had. You studied him further, allowing your fingers to move over to the marks that were no longer sealed in paint, but in his skin. You then gently moved to the edges of his face, feeling for the break in the seal of the mask, but you noticed it was nowhere to be found.

He was really here. He had always been here behind the mask without your knowing.

That’s when you realized he truly must have seen and heard everything that you did since you'd brought him here - a thought that caused your face to heat up. You quickly moved your hand away from him and gave him an apologetic smile.

“I - uh - thanks for the help.” You stated, “If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you been here? Or rather, how long have you been sentient?”

Your questions were met with silence and it puzzled you to the point of worry. “Can you speak? Did I accidentally glue your lips shut when I was fixing you?”

You reached your hand over to his lips to make sure you hadn’t, but he stopped you, wrapping his hand around your wrist to prevent you from getting any closer. He then moved his hand to hold yours in his own, gently kissing the knuckles of your wounded hand. His forwardness took you by surprise, but not as much as the sound of his voice.

“Do you wish for me to speak?”

It was otherworldly, almost booming throughout the kitchen, but it still somehow sounded human. There was a sense of gentle power within it, as well as within every action he made towards you.

You nodded in response. “I do. How did you - I mean how were you - what happened to the mask?”

“I heard your plea for help. I wanted to protect you, so I appeared in this form to come to your aid.” He explained

You laughed nervously, “So I take it you heard me scream then? I’m sorry for worrying you, it was just a measly cooking burn.”

He looked up at you, his eyes unwavering as you spoke. You guessed it must not have been a small thing to him. You tried to move the conversation to something else.

How did you become the mask? Have you always been like that?”

As you spoke you felt something darken around him, seeing him grow more solemn. You attempted to back track, to try and save the conversation as you apologized. “I’m sorry, is that a tender subject?”

He shook his head. “No, you are quite alright. I was cursed by the goddesses for a deed I can no longer remember, bound to the mask for it. I was not always like this, I was once a fierce war god.”

“So a Fierce Deity, then? It must be quite a surprise for you to find yourself here then.” You replied, “I had no idea about your curse or that you even existed.”

“It’s alright, not many know now in this time, not as many as they had before. I actually quite enjoy your life. It’s quiet, filled with more joy and less suffering.” He responded

“So you don’t mind it?” You asked

“I like it.” He said, “At first it was odd, I didn’t understand, but the more you took care of me, I began to learn that it was something I needed.”

You looked at him with surprise as he spoke. You never expect a fierce war deity to need a life like yours, but maybe there was a reason for it. You felt safer having the mask around, a certain feeling of protection would come over your home when it was in your presence. Now, you understood why it felt that way - he was the reason for it.

“Well, I know I said it already, but thank you for your help.”

His expression changed, he looked at you with happiness at the sound of your words. “It’s alright, I want to protect you.”

You felt the heat burning your cheeks again as he spoke, a bit of selfish joy at his words rising in your chest. Yes, these were some of the oddest of circumstances this could have happened in, but it was nice knowing that there was someone else looking out for you, nonetheless wanted to. So, you both decided to make the most out of it.

It was a rocky start to say the least, one that you both would soon come to learn how to approach the other, smoothing out the communication as your time together drew on. The more time you spent together, the more he opened up to you, his hardened exterior slowly being chipped away at by your ever present kindness. The more he stayed with you, the more you grew comfortable in his presence, never fearing him and the power that he held in his hands, the destruction that they could cause, that they had caused.

It felt as if you two were meant to find each other, in some way. You both filled in the empty spaces that the other had. You both craved the care and the protection, to have someone who could reach through the pain and the fear, someone who had the courage to draw the other out of their shell, in a way that no one else could.

You quickly found yourself in the midst of it, in the midst of each other, blurring the lines of each other, filling the empty spaces both emotional and physical. The Fierce Deity hovered over you, his soft lips trailing along the edge of your jaw, down your neck, feeling your quickening pulse under your skin. He listened to the gasps and gentle moans that left you, filling the air like the praise for the way he worshiped you, the way his hips met with yours, the way he drew the pleasure out of you. He relished in the way you looked, how your lips were parted, the way your chest heaved, the way your body moved in tune to his, the way the lightning flashed through the window and danced on your skin, making his precious gem glow once again. He was completely enraptured in you, tangled up in you as if he were in a trance.

He felt your arms wrap around him, holding him closer to you as you whisper in his ear. “Kiss me again.”

He didn’t hesitate to answer your request. Fierce’s lips were quickly on yours like the mouth of a wolf wrapped around its prey. His tongue delving past your lips, tasting you, drinking you in like holy water that he knew could cleanse him with pleasure, washing out the coarse salt of time and shame from him. Your love left like the rain on his skin, casting the pain of loneliness he’d felt for so long like dust into nothing, making him feel as if he were in pure bliss.

Your hands moved, entangling in his white locks, your legs wrapping around him, pushing him deeper inside of you. A moan broke past your throat and through your lips to his as you melted into him, finding yourself lost in his every movement, into each and every delicate touch. Even as he ravaged you, drawing out your pleasure, he still touched you tenderly with his war torn hands.

“Fierce -” Your voice broke through the moans, pleading, begging for him.

His ears perked up at the sound of it, and he leaned in closer to you, his voice coming as a low whisper in your ear, “Hm? What is it, my gem?”

“Please, please don’t stop.” You begged

He smiled against your skin, placing another kiss on your ear before whispering, “I don’t intend to.”

He continued his pace, sliding in and out as he pulled your hands away from him, pinning them above your head, down to the soft surface of the bed. He peered down at you, his eyes trailing along the length of your body, taking in every last piece of it to his memory, solidifying it.

“You look wonderful, my gem.” He praised

You loved it when he called you his, the way he looked at you, the way he held you. It was as if he were ready to devour you, to consume you, making you one with him. You knew how much he desired you, his every word and touch made it clear just how badly he wanted you, how he craved you. He was all consuming, his passion as befitting as his name - Fierce. Your hands gripped tightly to his own as you felt yourself coming undone at the seams for him, your back arching up off the bed for him as your pleasure reached its peak, losing yourself within the waves of it, as he watched.

He didn’t stop there though, for as soon as he knew you had been fulfilled, he took to pleasuring himself with you. His hands moved away from your own and instead slid down your body until they reached your hips. He pulled your hips up in line with his, making sure you were in the perfect position to take him. You gripped on tightly to the sheets around you, feeling his pace quicken, your body shaking at the sheer strength behind each thrust. Your voice grew louder as he continued to pleasure himself with you, unable to string together a coherent sentence amidst it, but he didn’t mind, he liked having you like this, pliable in his hands. You were so perfect in his eyes, the way you felt around him, against him, the way you said his name through your cries of pleasure. He knew it wouldn’t take him long to reach his peak, to feel his resolve breaking. You could easily draw that out of him, even if you didn’t realize it.

He praised you, his words broken in between moans, with each thrust. “M-My - precious - ah gem. You feel s-ssoo good.”

You returned the same, with a simple request. “P-Please - ngh - cum for me!”

His grip tightened on your hips as he thrusted harder into you for a moment longer before he finally broke. He felt the pleasure coursing through him and his hips slowly stuttered against your own as he filled you. Fierce collapsed over you from the wave of it, feeling himself slowly descending down from the pure ecstasy he felt. As he drew closer, you released the sheets and moved your hands to his face, pulling him in for one last breathless kiss. You both stayed that way for a bit until he finally decided to pull out, groaning into it. You pulled away, allowing him to rest his forehead against yours, peering up into his eyes. You gently thumbed over the red marks on his cheek, looking at him with all of the adoration in the world, unable to convey how much you loved him through words alone. He knew how to make you feel just as loved in return, as if you two were the only ones in the world that existed, as if the only moments that truly mattered were the ones he had with you.

He knew how to cleanse you with pleasure, washing over you like the rain.

[ceeceetv]

🌵 🕯️ 🥤🍄 🦴🪲 🧩

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

This is prob a longer answer than you expected but here it is. I am much more of an album listener than a playlist listener. I like to put on an album or artist and just get immersed in their work one at a time. Especially bc I feel like streaming has sort of taken away from the experience of albums as cohesive works. Here’s the Julien Baker album that has been stuck in my brain on repeat recently. Love a sad, existential record.

Playlists are also great though and I will def put on a playlist to run to or have in the background, etc. And I admire people who can curate great playlists!

And here’s where I’ll admit to my deep and abiding love of Taylor Swift and her songwriting. My longest fandom experience is with her work. So. Here’s a playlist called Taylor Swift bridges that are god-tier bc that woman can write a fucking bridge like no one else.

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

lol. 10. And thanks for indulging me by adding this question and letting me talk about it. I am a copy editor as a career and also as a hobby. I have loved words and language as long as I can remember, and I think I find more joy in helping other people wrangle and finesse their writing until it says just exactly what they want it to say than in writing my own work. I’ve told you this, but the fact that editing is a solitary activity that is also inherently very collaborative is perfect for my personality. There is also something that is just so satisfying to me about a perfectly punctuated sentence with smooth syntax and prosody that also communicates meaning effectively. A well-used semi-colon is sexy. And I love standing in as an advocate for the reader to make sure their experience is as close to what the author intends as possible. I could go on.

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

God. This is the longest fic I’ve ever read by a wide margin, but it has become so special to me I have to shout it out:

Here’s what I wrote in my AO3 bookmark for it: Author takes us from intimate, provincial romance to epic, sweeping action/tragedy so deftly I can’t even believe it. I’ve never been so invested in an original side character or cried harder reading a fic. This one is special.

It’s a story about the two of them falling in love slowly and messily with lots of false starts and obstacles that deals with identity and grief and longing and self-loathing and forgiveness and has a Mobius backstory where he contends with queer prejudice in 1990s America and it also includes hot smut and I just cannot recommend it enough. (It’s technically not finished but very close to and there are over 200k words published.)

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Idk if this is a head canon so much as just the way I personally read the text of the show but: Mobius has religious trauma and his experience with the TVA is akin to fundamentalist Christian indoctrination. Loki is the spark that helps him begin to deconstruct and heal and wake up to himself and what he actually wants.

Also: Loki LOVES having his hair played with and Mobius loves to have his hands in Loki’s hair.

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing? 

Mmm, idk about one piece of media but, as a medium, song lyrics and poetry. Anything I’ve started writing lately has usually been sparked by a lyric. I feel like lyrics are able to evoke much more complex stories in so few words, which I think is magical.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

[fic about Mobius washing Loki’s hair for him]

The sight of Loki’s cock, not hard at the moment but definitely not-not interested, nearly makes Mobius forget where he is. What he’s meant to be doing—helping with—right now.

He looks up to find Loki watching him.

“Um,” Mobius starts, suddenly struggling to find words (appropriate ones, anyway). “Right, so, should we get started?” He rises up off his heels and reaches for the detachable shower head.

“I like it hot,” Loki says.

“What?!” Mobius balks and nearly drops the shower head into the bath.

“The water. I like it hot. Don’t be afraid to turn it up.”

“Oh, sure. Can do.” Get it together, Mobius.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

Immediately? Hmm, well, I will say when a fic has something in the summary like “Where Loki doesn’t turn into a dumb tree and they can actually be together,” I will not click to begin with. I’m happy to read certain kinds of fix-its or universes where the ending is different or not relevant, but if an author is actively throwing shade at the canon ending, I just assume we have such different readings of the show that what we want from a fic probably doesn’t align very well.

[rataltouille]

FORCE MAJEURE: NOVEL INTRO

[this is my original work, do not use / repurpose / plagiarise in any form]

GENRE: literary fiction.

SETTING: south india, early 2010s.

POV & TENSE: dual pov; present tense + third person limited.

STAGE: prepping for camp nano [my current goal for camp is 10k!]

THEMES + AESTHETICS: fatalism, chance and luck, the duality of everything, corruption, chaos vs order, manipulation, power, sacrifice, loneliness, free will, love vs obsession. the sound of waves crashing against rocks, sitting in an empty house and watching a watery dawn, saltwater seeping into your pores as you swim deeper and deeper underwater; driving through neon cities under a full moon, laughter mixing with the bright sounds of people, the buzz of contact in a room full of strangers.

CONTENT WARNINGS: cults and religious trauma, implications + discussions of emotional abuse, terrible parents, manipulation, gaslighting. [note: this wip is very new so more content warnings may be added as i go]

SUMMARY:

when twins ananya and naveen get separated while escaping their home, they find themselves in completely different places—one stumbling onto a hidden commune by the beach, the other pulled into a group of thieves in the city. this story is a dark coming-of-age where the twins must confront their obsessions with things they can’t control and what they’re willing to do to belong.

aka “i know everything happens for a reason but what the fuck”

CHARACTERS:

omg my children <3 [all picrew credits to @/sagravi’s picrew!]

ANANYA [pronounced as: uh-nun-yah]

she/they [she’s very non-binary but doesn't have the term for it in the book? so in my head she uses she/they but in the book uses she/her]

looks like she can kill you, will instead make you fall in love and slowly [and unknowingly] break your heart <3

“have you ever seen a woman so beautiful you started crying?”

unintentionally funny. says something mean and people will laugh not realising she actually meant it

carries around a lot of anger about the multiple ways in which people have wronged her and now and then just goes feral [as she should, really]

aroace and has a very longterm, very on screen crisis about it. what i learnt from this is that i cannot write an uplifting aroace story and tbh i don't know what that says about me as someone who’s also aroace.

very emotionally attached to her parents :) very emotionally detached from people in general :) suffering™

does not have a good time

NAVEEN [pronounced as: nuh-veen]

he/him [also very non-binary]

looks baby, is actually very sad

“i do not have a fake social media personality. i am genuinely this mentally ill in real life”

unintentionally unfunny. he cries himself to sleep at night because his puns weren’t well received [me too honestly]

very queer!! he’s mspec but doesn’t label himself, and honestly king <3 he also gets caught in a bisexual love triangle. the way i was anti-love triangles until this guy appeared🧍

was always the twin who was idolised and seen as the family’s future which not only put a lot of pressure on him but also strained his relationship with ananya in unexpected ways which is just :(

does not have a good time

literally i fell in love with the twins so quickly; they are so cool and are most definitely my genvy. their relationship is very central to the story despite them being separated for the most of it [if the story plays out that way]. i’m excited to actually start drafting to learn more about them + their dynamic!!

SO HOW’D THIS HAPPEN?

so a few days ago my brain said “new fun ya contemporary concept about queer twins in high school” and then within five minutes of its existence my brain also said “contemporary ya my ass it’s now adult litfic deal with it” and at this point i’m just like. okay.

this book is my second novel and also my *bangs posts and pans* camp nano wip! [please as if i haven't mentioned this seventy times already] coincidentally my academic year + finals also end on the first of april so this is such a perfect time to start a new project!!

ALSO i’m jumping on the trend of making a temporary taglist for weekly updates like all the cool, sexy writeblrs who are doing it [read as: atlas fam] so!! let me know [dm/ask/reply/mention in reblog] if you want to be added to the camp nano taglist!! if you want to keep up with the wip after camp, you can ask to be added to my general taglist. heads up that i won't be tagging my general taglist for the weekly updates!!

everything about this project is tagged as force majeure and the writing updates as force majeure update. also here’s the link to the very very in-progress playlist. you can send me an ask / message me if you’d like to be added to my taglist or have any questions about the project. and that’s about it for now!!

[delusion-of-negation]

top 10 (ish) ridiculous or annoying FAQs:

(click at your own discretion)

1) "kids today rely on others to do everything"

ah yes, damn those participation trophies! if it wasn't for them my hands wouldn't be fucked, and I wouldn't need people to write for me. but seriously, stop reading boomer comics, and go outside to meet some actual young people.

2) "sus that a non-american says mom"

yeah, because it's clearly the superior version, and I'm not too patriotic to concede a defeat.

3) "sweaty, the victims of abuse by catholics are real people, stop appropriating their pain just because you want to hate catholics; plus teachers abuse people just as often anyway"

so firstly, I don't hate anybody. and secondly, regarding the fact that victims really do exist, [insert "of course I know him, he's me" meme here]; although I don't often talk much about the abuse I went through or what my religious beliefs are. but, more importantly, statements like "survivors are people" can be phrased like "some people are survivors", and when you're unable to act according to the latter (like when you don't even consider that somebody might be one) then you display a failure to recognise the former - you're projecting; a survivor can't be appropriating their own pain, but you can be appropriating it to silence one. and thirdly, teachers do abuse - the problem isn't and has never been purely religion, rather that abuse is often done by somebody in a position of trust, power, and familiarity; and that the lack of a global minimum enables totally legal abuse on top of the illegal stuff. people with access and respect have more opportunity to abuse than those without, and that goes for teachers too. but, once again, you can be appropriating the pain of survivors to deflect and silence people. please remember this before you say that shit.

4) "get help/therapy"

way ahead of you - years ahead of you. but it's not magic - people who say this often act as if you'll start behaving differently overnight. not only are some things simply beyond the ability of talking therapy to completely rectify, it also takes time and has to be selective. you've got to pick your priorities, and that's definitely not whatever ship or joke you're mad at me about today. therapy is a slow, arduous process that can't guarantee results - it isn't "anti-recovery" to recognise that, it's honesty. while I've been in therapy for a long time, it is not necessarily going to change whatever you don't like about me - whether that's because it can't, because my focus now is on more important or urgent things, or because I don't want to change that.

5a) "tell your family you ship incest, see how that goes; normal people find it disgusting"

actually, some know, and they're fine with it. in fact, one prefers sibling pairings in fiction to all other dynamics because, to paraphrase, "it's a deeper level of messed up co-dependence". so unfortunately for you, my remaining family (by which I mean those not dead or cut out of my life after abuse and so forth) actually are able to distinguish between fiction and reality. plus, my reasoning for caring if they find it gross or not pertains only to recommending books and such - their opinions do not dictate my tastes.

5b) "don't sexualise/appropriate incestuous abuse" and "I bet you enjoyed being raped" and other attempts to upset me over 5a

firstly, as I've already said here, survivors can't be appropriating ourselves. in addition, you're not owed people's history or trauma - it's not okay to require people's personal information, or else you'll send anon hate and accusations of appropriation. secondly, I'm not sexualising our abuse (not just because I write horror, and so a lot of my writing is intended to be creepy, not sexy); these stories aren't about us, they're not us at all. entire dynamics/people (fictional or otherwise) aren't all going to be applicable to us or identical to us, just because they have something in common with us; they're not us and they're not accountable to us. thirdly, the fact that people send this stuff (attempting to trigger people's trauma over ships) is so much more worrying to me than somebody making our communal imaginary friends kiss. you're trying to hurt people. and finally, to the "I bet you enjoyed it" crowd (if you're at all serious): do you think you'd enjoy being in a real zombie apocalypse, alone, afraid, and really at risk of being eaten alive? a fictional scenario does not feel remotely the same as a real one. this isn't rocket science - things that look like you aren't you; fiction isn't reality; don't send anon hate. (edit: comparable "just leave me alone, I'm not hurting anyone" sentiments for yandere stuff, and anything else you decide I'm naughty for.)

6) "you'll be sent off to do manual labour once your communist revolution happens"

while I don't know why people think that I'm a communist, a dictatorial regime probably isn't going to want me to do manual labour. they're more likely to just shoot me; I'm useless and a liability. call me crazy, but something tells me that "ah yes, we shall give ze deranged cripple ze power tools" isn't the communist position.

7a) "they/them can't be singular pronouns"

yes they can, and they're used as such in both shakespeare and the bible. but you don't have to say this - I'm also okay with he/him, so you could've just used those and chilled out. also, do I look like somebody who views the rules of grammar as fully immutable and imperative?

7b) "enbies/aros/pan/etc aren't valid"

do you really think that you're going to change any hearts or minds by putting that in my ask box or under my funny maymays? chill out, it's not worth the effort - you could be planning a party (in minecraft) and having fun instead. it isn't worth my time to rant at everybody who's saying something isn't valid, updating how I'm explaining it as my opinions grow and general discourse around it evolves; I'm just who I am, somebody else is who they are - why bicker in presumptuous ways about if that's enough? it ultimately is valid, in my opinion, but that isn't an invitation to keep demanding that I debate. (edit: old posts of mine probably don't phrase things incredibly, on this or anything... I tried.)

8) "what are your politics?"

my politics are informed first and foremost by the knowledge that I'm not cut out to be some kind of leader - I don't want to be the guy who tells everyone else what to do, I just offer what seem to me like valid criticisms of how we are doing things now, and general pointers on the values and ethics that I would prefer to move towards. things like individual freedom, taking the most pacifist route where possible, trying not to give excessive power to small groups of people (governments or corporations), helping those in need even when they're not palatable, and letting me suck loads of dicks. but please refrain from decreeing me something - there's not enough information in what I said, so you'll just be filling in the blanks with assumptions. (edit: workplace democracy seems cool to me; benefits are good; fair fines and taxes; and the "sperm makes you loopy" saga: 1, 2, 3, and 4.)

9) "you're a narcissist"

no, I don't meet the diagnostic criteria. joking on the internet that you're hot doesn't make a person a narcissist. the fact that I've chosen to keep my actual self-esteem issues to myself is not proof that they don't exist - you're just not entitled to that information about me. but it's also not narcissism to really like how you look. (edit: don't throw labels around carelessly too.)

10a) "kin list?"

the fabric of the universe, a zombie, dionysus, maned wolf/arctic fox hybrid, a comedian, big gay, big rock, ambiguously partial insincerity. (edit: kin list may or may not be incomplete.)

10b) "kin isn't valid/that's just being insane"

haven't we established that I'm deranged, and that sending stuff like this on anon is simply a waste of your precious time? besides, I do not care if it's invalid or insane - it's fun, I'm happy. (edit: see 7b for my opinion on sending me yet another ask with "that's invalid" in it; I'm not in the mood to discuss the nature of validity.)

bonus: "it gets better" and "trigger list?"

as I've said before, things just don't always get better for everyone - sometimes things can't be cured or even treated, sometimes they kill you; in some cases it could get better if not for a blockade or lack of time. the world is messy. it needs to be more normalised to reassure or comfort people without relying on saying that their issue will get better or be cured. it does suck to be this ill, but it also sucks to be made out to be a lazy pessimist, just because I have the audacity to not play along. and as for the trigger list, I don't like providing people with an easily accessed list of ways to hurt my feelings or harm me - upsetting me is supposed to be challenging, and thus rewarding. if you want a cheat sheet then you're out of luck, I'm afraid.

bonus #2: "FAQ stands for frequently asked questions, it doesn't need that s at the end!"

yeah, I know, I just enjoy chaos and disarray.

bonus #3 (edit): "what are your disabilities and how exactly are they incurable and/or deadly?"

again, I don't tell the internet everything about me, especially when it poses a risk, especially not as an easily accessible list for you to refer back to whenever you feel inclined to hurt my feelings. that is understandably a sore subject. (edit: that includes physical health issues btw.)

bonus #4 (edit): "so we shouldn't be critical?"

if it wasn't clear from my answer about politics or my post in general, you can have opinions about things, and you can voice that. it's just not realistic to exist at extremes: to think that you alone should dictate what exists in fiction, or to think that people shouldn't be expressing disdain or criticism of any calibur. say how you feel about things, that's fine, but it's also fine if people find that they don't value your input. plus we're all flawed, we can all be hypocritical from time to time, we all get bitchy, and we all make mistakes, or even knowingly fuck things up. that's important to keep in mind, whether we're talking about the one being criticised or the one doing the criticising - poor choices of words, imperfect tone, or contradictory ideas are inevitably going to happen occasionally.

congrats on reaching the end! if you have, at any point, said one of these to me, you owe a hug to your nearest loved one (once it's safe).

edit: might add more links/bonus points in the future when I think of things, but it's late now. (sorry for links where prior notes in the thread have my old url, that may get a tad confusing; also, not all links are my blog or my op, since it is to illustrate points/vibes, not to self-promo.)

[dragqueenpentheus]

Okay no one has to read this but i DO have to write it:

PYROC VS FATHER PAUL

Ya bitch needs an art break bc im getting angry about voices existing as i try to keep myself entertained. Today is NOT a god one for sinking into repetitive line work and that’s just about all i have on the table atm

SO! Im gunna do a little thinking about my little meow meows all fucked up by religion. Just a comparison for my sanity and interests. Pyroc is my baby i wrote him for the first time years ago. Five?????????? Whadda hell. Going on six.

ANYWAY john joined religion because of his trauma. His sister died and he felt lost. He was unmoored in this fishing village and looking for reason looking for hope. Hed had his heart broken and trying to make sense of tragedy on his own was totally beyond him. Thats why his interactions with riley in AA are SO good like. He knows that confusion and he knows the rhetoric that’s supposed to combat it. Only it dooesnt work for riley.

The same sort of thing happens for pyrc, only inverted. Loss urns him away from god and religion because its SO strong in his family and not only is he loosing trust in god, but his kin as well. He’s suspicious there’s mre they arent telling him, at the point of his fathers death. And he agrees to, on the surface, absolutely wholly throw himself in to being the second the family and the village need. But he’s keeping his treachery under wraps.

That’s one of the coolest things about father paul imo is like. That slow unraveling of what is. Frankly. An awful half assed plan, driven by fear and loneliness and desperation and dementia and love. Even VERY obvious things like. Taking down the newspaper photo of his young self ‘slip’ by him. I think, on some level, its DEEPLY intentional. He wants people to CHOOSE this. He wants people like bev. He wants people who see him and are in aw of him beating god. Of killing death. He wants to be worshiped and adored and for people to come to him willingly, no tragedy driving them to his arms.

Pyroc also wnats to be worshipped, but he ALSO wants to do the worshipping. He really longs for an element of almost????? But not quite??? Subjection?? He wants to be shown something and for a Great Voice to tell him, unquestioningly and unerringly that it is GOOD. Full stop. And then he wants to spend his life worshipping it. But this booko is an exploration of how….. no such thing exists. And more importantly no great voice exists either. There is nothing wholly good, nothing wholy evil. His lack of faith in himself once he becomes god is him starting to understand that as well. Thats on purpose baked into the lore. The starting point was ‘what if god was a position and in order to get promoted you had to be a murderer. No matter what’. He understands things are not wholly good, at that point. I onder how long it will be for him to realize they are not fully evil as well?

Bc pruitt does hm hm hm an interesting move. Where he takes something the narritve is very sure to communicate is EVIL no wiggle room just fact. Even if its driven by animal instinct its. Evil. And he makes it, not just good, but HOLY. And god i LOVEEEE that for him i ADOREEE that what a MOVE. Driven by desperation and dementia and relief and ‘if god saved me than maybe i can be good despite loving and sinning and maybe if i defeat god then i will be Thee Good’. SO sexy of him. Im really fascinated by his morality. He seems to have an understanding of the shades of grey in some respects??? But if he had a BETTER one with more forgiveness in his heart i feel like hed have left the church anyway after sarah was born??? Even if millie didnt ask him??? That might just be my own sensibilities creeping in but ….. like he culd have seen her on the weekends. He can do other jobs. Hes straight (??? Not totally convinced of this) he could have just dated her that makes me crazy. LIKE OBV HE HAD LINES HE THOUGHT THAT WOULD CROSS AND HE HAD INTERNALIZED THE CHURCH AND THE RULES AND SHE WAS MARRIED AND ECT ECT i know he couldnt have really but. Thye were straight. They coulda.

Im not gunna do fantasy homophobia bc i think its …………….. Boring. But i think some element of??? The vindlegaurd line MUST be passed along and for that particular rules must be applied. But thats also boring as hell :/ maybe i can work in my parthenogenesis lore?????????? I bet pyroc would love building that spell in any universe. That’s the sequal when he goes to magic university in helsin. But yeah i do like the concept that. Anyone can have a baby thru magic its just a time and energy commitment. Just a matter of wanting it enough together. Every baby is so deeply wanted and its mere existence is proof. Thats dope i love that. HMMM to be decided at a later date when im deeper into the story i think. I still havent figured out fully how and where and why orion is going to be invovled and if???? Pyroc and orion are even going to be romantic??????? Im torn im TORn…….

Thikns about john bonding w sarah over science and learning and starts wEEPING…. Like theres some surity beloved. Its just a matter of uncovering. I think sarah felt that same thirst for answers and hunted them differently. Her faith is in logic and science. I loveeee her god. Every scene w her and her dad absolutely RUIN me like!!!!!! SHE DOESNT KNOW!!! SHE DOESNT KNOW HOW LOVED SHE IS!!!!!! I hope at hte very end she saw the blood as the gesture of love it SO clearly was and not him trying to poison her. God i love that she spat it out. GOD. Thats about being gay, btw. Spits the religious offering that could save you across the gasoline soaked church floor like BABE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I think we as a collective should talk about the possibiites around sarah/erin more. Bc their defiance combined would be. Earth SHATTERING for crockett.

In the future pyroc gets a kid. Ever since that campaign where Enemy ended up playing his daughter im like. How did i NOT know this idiot wanted nothing more in the entire world than to travel it with his daughter. I dont care how or why hes getting a kid. Hed be so doting and awful abut it. He would need orion as a co-parent for the kids self esteem to be normal levels. thINKS ABOUT PAUL GETTING TO RAISE SARAH AND JUST ABSOLUTELY GASSING HER UPPPPPPPP HANGING EVERY DOODLE SHE EVER MADE ON TEH FRIDGE. BOASTING ABOUT HER SCEINECE PROJECT OT ANYONE WITHIN EYESIGHT EVEN THOUGH ‘WE K N O W JOHNWE WERE ALL AT THE SCEINCE FAIR’!!!!!!!!!!! Let these fuck ups be doting fathers im fucking begging. That scene where paul is like. You take ccare of everyone on the island sarah. Its more than being a doctor. You comfort them.

HM HM comfort is such a thing for Miss Bitch like!! He sees it as a Good Thing. He tries to bring it for riley by asking to hold the AA meetings on island ((also manipulation. Obvously also manipulation. I wouldnt have bene shocked if he was slipping the vampire blood into the coffee every meeting either. But thats just a theory. A game theory.)) ANYWAY he sees comfort as hly. The church gave it to him when he needed it. The angel gave it to him in the cave. Feeling safe and warm is HIGH on his list of priorities and what makes him hand over respect.

I think pyroc has lived a very comfortable life in SO many ways, but in none he. Activly recognizes. A key part of his character arc his him…. Opening his eyes to the world around them. Seeing the privilege he has and being like. Wait. This isnt Right. We have to change thi. And when no one agrees ti shifts to I have to change this. With Violence. A little revolutionary <3 it only costs the life of his whole ass family

Thats more fun comparison ground like…… paul is SO much about I know whats right and there is a cost but i AM ignoring it. Like HE KNOOOOWSSSS he knooooows he just doesnt want o See. I’m not sure if im going to surprise yroc with the ……megadeath of. His whole family. Or if it’s a choice he has to activly make. I think a choice makes it more compelling, more layerd. It has to be in the moment though, becaus ei think thats. A key difference between them. Pyroc wouldnt do it.. hed just leave hed peace out and do what he could in small ways. But he wouldnt do his big stand off with god. Hed shrink his goals in order to not hurt his family. Out of love?? Intimidation?? Some instinct wihtin him that balks at the idea of disobedience??? I think even he doesnt know. But i LOVE john becaue he jsut decides to lie. He closes his eyes and says i am being stupid on purpose. I think thats PERHAPS more compelling than good guy coward pyroc BUT!!!!! Thats who he is rip to ths little man. Cant change him now hes a whole ass child in my head. The PLOT i can change. Him….. not without massive character development <3

UGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MM set my brain on FIRE!!!! Im so glad nano is coming up. I love sharpening pyroc against the comparison of other AMAZING characters. Father paul hill my beloved millstone <3 anyway sorry to anyone who reads this its literally me unhinging my jaw and emptying my brain out. I had to write stuff that wasn’t novel or fic. A little character time down and dirty. I wil NOT be editing this love and light to future me trying to decode this